"Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. "By Heaven!" cried Darrell, "it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. As for the doctor, he found a pleasure in this service that would have puzzled him had he paused to analyse it.
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