'Ye may say that,' answered the grinning surgeon, with a quiet oath of
expectation.
''Tis a handsome fee, Sir, and you may have it.'
'Five hundred guineas!'
'Ah, you've heard, Sir, perhaps, of the attempted murder in the park, on
Doctor Sturk, of the Artillery; for which Mr. Nutter now lies in
prison?' said Mr. Dangerfield.
'That I have, Sir.'
'Well, you shall have the money, Sir, if you perform a simple
operation.'
''Tis not to hang him you want me?' said the doctor, with a gloomy
sneer.
'Hang him!--ha, ha--no, Sir, Doctor Sturk still lives, but insensible.
He must be brought to consciousness, and speech. Now, the trepan is the
only way to effect it; and I'll be frank with you: Doctor Pell has been
with him half a dozen times, and he says the operation would be
instantaneously fatal. I don't believe him. So also says Sir Hugh
Skelton, to whom I wrote in London--I don't believe him, either. At all
events, the man is dying, and can't last very many days longer, so
there's nothing risked. His wife wishes the operation; here's her note;
and I'll give you five hundred guineas and--what are you here for?'
'Only eighteen, unless some more has come in this morning,' answered the
doctor.
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