"Sit down," he whispered.
"She coming back with the doctor ?" "Yes," Lot coughed.
David Hautville settled into a chair with a surly grunt.

He watched Lot cough, holding to his straining chest, and thought that he must be worse, else he would not have sent for the doctor.

He resolved to wait and take his daughter home with him, by force if necessary, but with no more disturbance of this man, who might be sick unto death.
Seeing Lot cast his eyes about as if looking for something, and make a motion towards the table at his side, he rose up quickly and got him a spoonful of the cough mixture in a bottle thereon, and administered it to him gently.
"Don't you touch my wet coat," said David Hautville, "or yo'll get a chill," and he held himself carefully away from the sick man.
When Lot lay back, panting, he returned to his chair and did not speak again.

The two remained in silence until there came the jingle of bells, the tramp of horses' feet, and the voice of men out in the yard.
Lot lay still, with his eyes closed.

David Hautville raised his head and looked at the window, thick with frost.