Thanking him, Mrs. Batley
returned to the house, and presently afterwards, Sibbald made his
appearance. His looks and person had become even more repulsive than
formerly. He desired to be led to the patient, and on seeing her, shook
his head. He examined the pustule, which had greatly increased in size,
and turning away, muttered, "I can do nothing for her."
"At least make the attempt," implored Mrs. Batley. "She is the Countess
of Rochester. You shall be well rewarded--and if you cure her, the earl
will make your fortune."
"If his lordship would change stations with me, I could not cure her,"
replied Sibbald. "Let me look at her again," he added, examining the
pustule. "There is a strange appearance about this tumour. Has Judith
Malmayns attended her?"
"She was here yesterday," replied Mrs. Batley.
"I thought so," he muttered. "I repeat it is all over with her." And he
turned to depart.
"Do not leave her thus, in pity do not!" cried the old woman, detaining
him. "Make some effort to save her. My lord loves her to distraction,
and will abundantly reward you."
"All I can do is to give her something to allay the pain," returned
Sibbald. And drawing a small phial from his doublet, he poured its
contents into a glass, and administered it to the patient.
"That will throw her into a slumber," he said, "and when she wakes, she
will be without pain.
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