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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE DEATH-DOCTOR
 
 "THE MASTER OF MYSTERY" 
 
 WILLIAM LE QUEUX'S NOVELS 
 OPINIONS in 1912 
 
 " Mr. William Le Qneiix i-etains his position as ' The Master of 
 Mystery." . . . He is far too skilful to allow pause for thouglit : he 
 whirls his readers from iuciJent to incident, holding their attention 
 from the first page to the close of the book."— /'aW Mall Qazette. 
 
 " Mr. Le Queux is the master of mystery. He never fails to produce 
 tlie correct illusion. He always leaves us panting for more— a brilliant 
 feat." — Daily Graphic. 
 
 " Mr. Le Queux is still ' Th.e Master of Mystery.' "—Madame. 
 
 " To those who like detective stories Mr. Le Queux writes the very 
 acme and essence of tlie thing. His is the master-hand." — Manchester 
 Courie7: 
 
 "Mr. Le Queux is a most experienced hand in writing sensational 
 fiction. He never loses the grip of his readers." — Publishers' Circular. 
 
 "Mr. Le Queux always grips his reader, and holds him to the last 
 page."— Bristol Times and Mirror. 
 
 "Mr, Le Queux's books once begun must be read to the end." — 
 Evening Neii-s. 
 
 " There is no better companion on a railway journey than Mr. William 
 Le Queux."— Daili/ Mail. 
 
 "Mr. Le Qneux knows his business, and carries it on vigorously and 
 lirosperously. His stories are always fantastic and thrilling." — Daily 
 Telegraph. 
 
 " Mr. Le Queux is an adept at the semi-detective story. His work 
 is ahvH\s excellent." — Review uf Reviews. 
 
 " Mr. Le Queux is always so refreshing in his stories of adventure 
 that one knows on taking up a new book of liis that one will be amused." 
 — Birmingham Post, 
 
 " Mr. Le Queux's books are delightfully cowymcmg."— Scotsman. 
 
 "Mr. Le Queux's books are always exciting and absorbing. His 
 mysteries are enthralling and his skill is world-famous."— Zrufrpoo/ Daily 
 Post. 
 
 " Mr. Le Queux litis brouglit the art of the sensational novel to high 
 pertectiou."—Jf orthe7-n Whig. 
 
 "Mr. Le Queux can be depended upon for an exciting story." — 
 T. P.'i Weekly. 
 
 " Mr. Le Queux is so true to his own style that any one familiar ■nith 
 his books would certainly guess him to be the author, even if his name 
 were not given."— Methodist Recorder.
 
 The Death- Doctor 
 
 BEING THE REMARKABLE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ARCHIBALD MORE D'ESCOMBE, M.D., OF 
 
 KENSINGTON, LONDON, SELECTED 
 
 BY 
 
 LAURENCE LANNER-BROWN. M.D. 
 
 and 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 WILLIAM LE QUEUX 
 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT. Ltd. 
 
 PATERNOSTER HOUSE, E.G. 
 1912
 
 ( .^ - -V 
 
 NOTE BY Laurence Lanner-Brown, M.D., 
 OF Earl's Court Road, London 
 
 Some year and a half ago, my Jriend 
 and erstwhile neighbour. Dr. Archibald More 
 d'Escombe, died suddenly, and shortly after his 
 decease I received jrom his solicitors a sealed 
 packet addressed to me in his handwriting, with 
 instructions that it was not to he opened until 
 after his death. 
 
 Dr. More d'Escombe and I had been close 
 Jriends Jor some years ; first in the little Devon- 
 shire town oj Okehampton, until he migrated 
 to London, where I Jound him several years later, 
 when 1 myself set up in practice in EarVs Court 
 Road. 
 
 As I first remember him, he was a smart, 
 slight, good-looking man — dark and clean-shaven, 
 with an easy and taking manner — a javourite 
 with all, especially the jemale sex, a clever 
 medical, but at the same time excellent at bridge 
 and at most games and sports, both indoor and 
 out. 
 
 His wije was a pretty, well-meaning little 
 woman, but entirely eclipsed by her smart, suc- 
 cessjul andjascinating husband. 
 
 In Okehampton, Dr. More d'Escombe was 
 certainly the most popular figure, while in Ken- 
 sington he was extremely well known and enjoyed 
 a very wide and lucrative practice. Therefore 

 
 vi NOTE 
 
 it came as a great shock to me when I read the 
 manuscript after his death and, to my horror, 
 discovered what I should never have thought 
 possible, yet, alas ! 07ily too plainly, how a clever, 
 unscrupulous, and yet, in a way, plucky man oj 
 my own profession, possessed oj deep knowledge 
 and learning, can hoodzvink, deceive and plunder 
 the world in general, not even excluding his mos! 
 intimate jriends and acquaintances. 
 
 He having lejt it entirely at my discreti'v. 
 I propose, with the assistance oj my jriend. Mi . 
 William Le Queux, to publish a jew episodes (j 
 his varied and venturesome career because, '• 
 he says in his MSS. : " / leave no one behin' 
 me, and therejore there is no reason why some 
 oj the jools in the world should not he shown how 
 blind and credulous they may be, especially ij 
 one jully comprehends the power oj flattery — a 
 great power.'''' 
 
 At the risk oj condemnation by the whole 
 medical projession and perhaps by the public at 
 large, I have selected a jew oj the many striking 
 and astounding incidents he records — the majority 
 being entirely unsuited to the public eye — and 
 wherever possible I quote his own words. 
 
 " Let my career serve as a warning to others^'' 
 he urges, and mainly jor that reason I have 
 ventured to publish this remarkable record. 
 
 Laurence Lanner-Brown. 
 
 EarV s Court Road, W . 
 July, 1912.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. — In which there is Open Confession. i 
 II. — In which a Lady is concerned . 52 
 III. — In which I disclose a Secret . . 77 
 IV. — In which I earn a Big Fee . . 86 
 V. — In which my Love Affair is ex- 
 plained ...... 97 
 
 VI. — In which I oblige a Lady . . 108 
 
 VII. — In which a Risky Coup is described 119 
 
 VIII.— In which a Problem is presented . 134 
 IX. — In which I attend an Eccentric 
 
 Patient ...... 145 
 
 X. — In which I silence an Enemy . . 159 
 XL — In which I attend a Strange Case . 178 
 XII. — In which a Patient grows Confi- 
 dential ...... 192 
 
 XIIL— In which Mrs. Auberon's Secret is 
 
 REVEALED ..... 206 
 
 XIV.— In which the Avenue Road Mystery 
 
 is EXPLAINED 238 
 
 XV. — In which I make a Little Present . 278 
 XVI.— In which a Red-haired Lady sheds 
 
 Tears 3" 
 
 XVIL— In which I am Discovered . . 337
 
 \ 
 
 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IN WHICH THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 
 
 T AM fully aware, my dear Lanner-Brown, that 
 -'- after my death, when you open these 
 pages, you will be greatly shocked. 
 
 The skeleton which for many years has 
 been locked so securely in my cupboard, and 
 which I now at last have courage to reveal, 
 will, I know, stagger you. 
 
 I, Archibald More d'Escombe, have enjoyed 
 a lucrative practice in Kensington. I have 
 worked hard, and I believe I have not only 
 earned the esteem of my many patients of 
 both sexes, but also that of my fellow-men. 
 I have been moderate in my habits, partial 
 perhaps to a really good vintage port, but 
 nevertheless a constant churchgoer ; for some 
 years churchwarden of St. Stephen's, and, in 
 addition, a regular subscriber to all local 
 
 I
 
 2 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 charities, as far as my means as a medical 
 man would allow. 
 
 Outwardly, I suppose, I have differed in no 
 way to the many thousand other men who, 
 having walked the hospitals, have qualified and 
 now practise the science of medicine up and 
 down the country. But when, my dear Lanner- 
 Brown, you have read this plain, matter-of-fact 
 and yet remarkable narrative of my amazing 
 life, it will be for you yourself to judge 
 whether it be best, in the public interest, to 
 suppress it and destroy the manuscript, or 
 whether you will risk the condemnation, which 
 must be hurled upon you by the public and 
 the whole medical profession, and publish it 
 as a warning to others who may, by their ex- 
 pert scientific knowledge, be led into similar 
 temptation. 
 
 This matter I leave entirely in your hands, 
 and at your discretion. 
 
 Though in the following pages you will, no 
 doubt, discover much that will astound and 
 even appal you, yet many of the circumstances 
 you will yourself recall. I think you will find 
 that in this record I have been entirely frank 
 and open, and agree that I have all along ad- 
 mitted the motive, and have never sought to 
 shield myself, either by excuse or by hypocrisy.
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 3 
 
 During the last eight years of our pleasant 
 and intimate acquaintance, I have ever held 
 you in the highest esteem. You are a real 
 man. True, you as a confirmed bachelor were 
 always something of a lady-killer, while you 
 believed me to be indeed the quiet-mannered, 
 rather short-sighted, and perhaps somewhat old- 
 fashioned, family-practitioner in whom you so 
 often confided. 
 
 Ah ! I often wondered what you would 
 actually have thought of me had you but 
 known the ugly, wretched truth. And some- 
 times — forgive me, my dear fellow — I have 
 smiled at your ignorance. 
 
 But here, in moments snatched from the 
 constant hustle of a wide and growing practice, 
 I have written down the secret of my change- 
 ful life complete — perhaps you will term it 
 terrible. 
 
 You,, my old chum, will be the first to judge 
 me. And I know, alas, too well ! the nature 
 of your judgment — a bitter judgment, which 
 will be confirmed by any who afterwards 
 may be permitted by you to peruse these 
 pages. 
 
 But I offer no apology, either to you or 
 to the public. Indeed, I have none to offer. 
 Whether I regret matters not to you. Neither 
 
 I*
 
 4 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 does the awful, heart-piercing remorse which 
 has, in these last days, so tortured me. 
 
 No ! all that concerns you is the truth re- 
 garding my disgraceful past. My future, now 
 that I am passing in silence to the great Un- 
 known, lies in my own hands. 
 
 If I spoke of atonement, you yourself would 
 accuse me of hypocrisy, and dismiss me as a 
 canting humbug. Therefore, upon that one 
 point I am silent. 
 
 I intend only to relate hard, soUd facts, and 
 leave you to form your own conclusions. 
 
 Before dilating on some of the various inci- 
 dents which occurred in my career after I be- 
 came a quahfied medical man, however, it 
 would be as well, I think, if I gave you a 
 Httle information about my earUer days. Not 
 that I wish to make any excuses for myself or 
 my doings, but simply to give you an idea 
 as to my more youthful experiences and 
 doings. 
 
 As you know, I qualified comparatively late 
 in Hfe. I was twenty-six before I could write 
 those eight letters, M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P., after 
 my name, which not only enabled me to 
 practise medicine and surgery, but also, 
 above all other things, gave me the power to 
 sign a death-certificate.
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 5 
 
 That is the all-important point. Knowledge 
 is power. 
 
 Most students of medicine become qualified 
 at somewhere about twenty-three or four, but 
 when I should have been doing well I had 
 made a rather poor mess of things. 
 
 A father who had cut down his own 
 personal expenses to a minimum, and a mother 
 who, late in life, continued to churn her own 
 butter at our Sussex farmhouse-home in order 
 to provide me with a reasonable income, had 
 both been grievously disappointed. 
 
 I had been sent up to Oxford, like so many 
 others, with the reputation of a budding 
 scholar ; but instead of doing anything of note, 
 I simply obtained a pass-degree which, as you 
 know, means very little indeed ; and then, 
 after putting in another couple of years at 
 Guy's, I found myself no further on, having 
 still my intermediate-final to pass, nor, indeed, 
 could I have answered many simple questions 
 in anatomy or physiology, although my know- 
 ledge of billiards, bridge, actors and actresses 
 was remarkably good. 
 
 Thus, when my father died suddenly, and 
 with him my income, the chances I possessed 
 of becoming a practitioner of medicine had 
 apparently disappeared, for what he did leave
 
 6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 was only just enough to keep my mother and 
 sisters in genteel poverty. 
 
 " What the devil am I fit for ? " I asked 
 my friend Aitkin one day. " I might become 
 a bilHard-marker, or a racing tout; but I'm 
 not fit for much else. I really am a most 
 useless beggar." 
 
 " Poor old chap," said he, " you're badly 
 hipped, and well you may be, but don't chuck 
 up the sponge. Put an advertisement in the 
 Telegraph. Sit down, man, and write it straight 
 away. I'll see to it for you." 
 
 Poor old Tom ! he was a good chap — peace 
 to his ashes — he was shot in a drinking-bar in 
 California. 
 
 Well, I wrote as he suggested : 
 
 "Young Gentleman; Oxford degree; some 
 knowledge of medicine ; accustomed to good 
 society; musical, speaks French well, desires 
 post as secretary or travelling companion — 
 D'Escombe, Telegraph Office, Fleet Street." 
 
 "That's all right," laughed Tom, "but you 
 don't mention your real accomplishments, I 
 notice. You should add, ' Has taken prizes 
 for consumption of beer; an excellent pool- 
 player ; irresistible manner with ladies, and wide 
 experience in card playing.' " 
 
 "Don't be a fool, Tom," I growled. "Take
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 7 
 
 the infernal scribble away — much good will it 
 do." 
 
 " Farewell ! " said Tom dramatically, and the 
 next I heard about the advertisement, three 
 days later, was a letter forwarded to my lodg- 
 ings from the Telegraph office, asking me to 
 call at a house in Redcliffe Gardens on the 
 following afternoon. 
 
 In the interim I had refused my mother's 
 offer to go home for a while, and had sorted 
 out my goods and chattels, many of which I 
 sold at a great loss, as was but natural. 
 
 In the event of the advertisement being a 
 failure I had decided to try my luck in 
 America. However, here was a possibility. I 
 looked at the letter a second and third time 
 — expensive paper, with a faint perfume about 
 it ; faint, but very distinctive. It is a curious 
 fact, but one never forgets a smell in the 
 way one loses a name, or a face. The nose is 
 the most reliable of organs. It cannot forget, 
 but always recognizes any odour out of the 
 common which has once been smelt ; and 
 this perfume, even to the present day, brings 
 back to me the memory of my bare, untidy 
 lodgings off Tottenham Court Road on that 
 last day of my freedom from serious and 
 worldly affairs.
 
 8 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 The letter was written in a feminine hand, 
 neat but unformed, and concluded with a 
 bold masculine signature : " Horatio Augustus 
 Fcatherson." 
 
 I clothed myself that afternoon in a blue 
 serge suit — luckily my wardrobe was well 
 stocked and in good condition — and looking 
 in the glass to view the tout ensemble saw, not 
 the professional-looking individual whom you 
 have known as More d'Escombe, but a slight, 
 dark young man, with a — I may as well say it 
 — clean-cut, rather handsome face, a small 
 waxed dark moustache, and a clear, almost 
 olive, complexion. 
 
 I do not wish to eulogize my appearance as 
 it then was, for after all, good looks are only 
 worth what they will bring to the pocket, and 
 depend upon the country and surroundings in 
 which one lives ; a man or woman passing as 
 handsome in one continent may be looked 
 upon as positively ugly in another. It all 
 depends on the standard of beauty in the 
 immediate market. 
 
 A smartly-dressed housemaid showed me to 
 the presence of Mr. Featherson, who, immacu- 
 lately dressed, was sitting reading in a cosily 
 furnished smoking-room. 
 
 As I entered, he rose, and I saw that he
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 9 
 
 had greatly the advantage of me in height, 
 and was thin and aristocratic in appearance. 
 He could not have been less than six feet two. 
 
 "Good afternoon, Mr. d'Escombe," he said 
 in a pleasant voice as he shook hands, " it's 
 very good of you to come at such short notice, 
 I'm sure. Will you smoke ? " And as he 
 motioned me to a chair he handed me a box 
 of " Sultans," such as I had smoked myself 
 in palmier days. " Would you be so kind, Mr. 
 d'Escombe," he continued rather stiffly, " as 
 to give me some idea why you are seeking 
 such a post as you mention ? What references 
 you propose to offer, and what experience, if 
 any, of clerical work you have had ? " 
 
 My ansvv^er to this was, as I had pre-deter- 
 mined, to tell the whole story of my crass 
 stupidity in the past, and thus show my con- 
 dition in the present. 
 
 " You appear to have a rather pleasing 
 capacity for enjoying yourself, Mr. d'Escombe," 
 • said he, with a grim smile on his thin face, 
 which showed two gold-stopped teeth through 
 his drooping grey moustache, and which caused 
 at the same time innumerable tiny wrinkles to 
 appear at the corners of his deep-set, calm grey 
 eyes. " But other things being equal, I think 
 you will do for me excellently. You see, I
 
 10 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 want a man who, while possessing some com- 
 mon sense, is willing to be instructed by me 
 to do things in my way — fallow ground to 
 work on, as it were — and I gather that by 
 now you have sown and reaped the majority 
 of your wild oats." 
 
 " I think I have," I laughed. " And I will 
 certainly do my very best to meet your 
 requirements — if you are so good as to give me 
 a chance." And yet, Laurence, as I said it the 
 curious glitter in the man's eyes, an undefin- 
 able something in his manner, gave me the idea 
 that he was not exactly " straight." Still, I 
 could do nothing ; it would have been sheer 
 madness to refuse. 
 
 " I'm going abroad in a couple of days," 
 he said ; " I and my daughter. Could you 
 join me here to-morrow ? Oh ! and as to 
 salary. I can offer you a hundred a year, and 
 pay all your expenses — reasonable expenses, 
 that is," and as he smiled his eyes contracted 
 and the thousand tiny wrinkles got deeper, 
 and many others quite unsuspected suddenly 
 appeared. 
 
 " I can be here at any time you wish, Mr. 
 Featherson," was my answer. " I have only 
 to pack a couple of bags." 
 
 " Very well, then ; to-morrow for lunch at
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION ii 
 
 one-thirty." He pressed the electric bell, 
 saying, " The maid will show you the way 
 out. Au revoir.'''' 
 
 I opened the door expecting to see the maid, 
 but as she did not appear I closed it after 
 me, intending to find my own way out. It 
 was all very curious, I thought. No further 
 word as to references — nothing as to notice. 
 He seemed to have, as it were, jumped at me. 
 
 I was on the point of letting myself out of 
 the front door when a girl came into the hall 
 — a girl, I say, but I cannot describe her 
 adequately. She was beyond the limits of my 
 poor powers, but sweet, delicate, wonderfully 
 pretty, were the impressions on my mind at 
 the moment. She appeared to be quite young, 
 and dressed in white. Her great, dark eyes 
 were open widely as she came, her finger 
 suggestively raised, rapidly towards me. 
 
 "You are Mr. d'Escombe ? " she said in a 
 low, half-frightened whisper, and as she said it 
 the perfume on the writing-paper was no 
 secret, for I now smelt it a second time — a 
 sweet, subtle scent. 
 
 " Have you seen my father ? " she asked, as I 
 nodded assent to her first question, too taken 
 aback by her attitude and sudden appearance 
 to speak.
 
 12 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Yes, thank you," I answered in a low 
 voice, recovering my self-possession ; " but 
 
 what " 
 
 She held up her hand. " S-shh ! Please 
 don't talk, Mr. d'Escombe. I want to warn 
 you. Don't come back here, on any account." 
 She glanced apprehensively at the staircase and 
 continued, " I don't want my father to know 
 that I've seen you, but please, please don't 
 come back. You'll regret it very, very deeply." 
 And then, as a noise came from somewhere 
 above, she turned, saying, " For your own sake 
 go away, and do not return," and disappeared 
 quickly through a door near ; while I, my 
 brain awhirl, let myself quietly out of the 
 hall door. 
 
 Once again I found myself in the street, 
 away from the mysterious house and its 
 strange occupants. I walked on utterly dumb- 
 founded. " Don't come back — regret it — " 
 what could she mean, and who was she ? 
 Featherson's daughter ? He had mentioned a 
 daughter. 
 
 Certainly it was a most amazing and curious 
 state of affairs, but one thing I was determined 
 upon. I would go back, and all the more 
 readily if that sweet-faced girl were to be one 
 of the party to go abroad ; and besides what
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 13 
 
 could happen ? It was certain that I should 
 keep my eyes very wide open after receiving 
 that mysterious warning. 
 
 As a matter of fact, I felt bucked up and 
 buoyant in the face of that afternoon's 
 happenings. " Hurrah," I thought with glee, 
 *' I'm in for a real good thing — with a spice 
 of adventure in it ! " 
 
 I spent a busy evening writing letters and 
 packing, and next day, at half-past one, as- 
 cended the steps of the house of Featherson, 
 a man staggering behind me with two large kit 
 bags and a suit case. 
 
 Featherson himself came into the hall as I 
 entered and invited me into his den. 
 
 " Come in, Mr. d'Escombe. Come in. Let 
 me introduce you to my daughter, Ella. She 
 has not long left school, and is going to travel 
 
 with us — little minx " and he chucked her 
 
 under the chin, in — to my mind — a rather 
 vulgar manner. 
 
 The girl reddened, and then shaking hands 
 with me, asked if I had travelled much. 
 
 " I lived in Paris with my uncle for a while 
 as a lad," I answered, *' therefore, I speak the 
 language fairly well." 
 
 " Excuse me one moment, d'Escombe," said 
 the master of the house, leaving the room, at
 
 14 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 which action I felt somewhat awkward, hardly- 
 knowing what to say. But the girl spoke at 
 once : 
 
 " So you have come back ! You refused to 
 take my advice," she said in a low, reproachful 
 voice. 
 
 " Miss Featherson," I answered, " I know 
 nothing of your reasons for giving me such 
 advice ; but work, occupation, I must have. I 
 daren't say no to anything decent." 
 
 " I'm so very sorry," was her answer ; " I 
 know you will bitterly regret your action. 
 But there — it's done now," and throwing off 
 her mysterious tone and manner she began to 
 chatter about our coming travels, and I could 
 not help thinking that she was pleased, rather 
 than angry, at my refusal to accept her advice* 
 This was to be her first long journey with her 
 father. She had stayed with him for short 
 periods during her school life at Brighton, but 
 now the dear old days were over. 
 
 " Won't you explain your remarks of yester- 
 day ? " I inquired after a while. " I cannot 
 understand things at all — why " 
 
 " Not another syllable please, Mr. d'Escombe," 
 she interrupted. " I beg you to forget every 
 word I said, and ask you particularly to say 
 nothing to my father." As she spoke I thought
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 15 
 
 I caught a gleam of fear, even of terror, in 
 her dark eyes as she glanced towards the door. 
 
 " Very well, not another word," I laughed. 
 " But why do you talk of ' the dear old days '? " 
 
 " Ah ! I was very happy in the convent 
 school, everybody was very kind to me, and I 
 was never left alone with nothing to do. Now 
 father often has to leave me for whole days, 
 and I am not even allowed out without 
 him," was her answer, made with a most 
 adorable pout. Certainly she was charmingly 
 pretty, and apparently innocence and freshness 
 itself. 
 
 And yet, what did she know ? Why the 
 warning ? I racked my brains to try and dis- 
 cover the mystery. 
 
 In four days' time we were comfortably 
 settled in an hotel at Sorrento. You know 
 that little Italian town, I believe. You went 
 there one winter. It is hard to find a more 
 charming spot in the whole of that land of 
 colour and picturesque beauty. 
 
 The hotel, built upon the edge of the high 
 cliff which forms the " seaward " wall of the 
 town, was full, at that season, of tourists 
 and visitors — English, American, German and 
 French — as also were all the other hotels in 
 the place.
 
 i6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Ella and I soon became the greatest of 
 friends and allies, and one afternoon, as wc 
 walked together at sundown, she gave me the 
 reason of her warning in London. 
 
 " I hate to tell you, Mr. d'Escombe," she 
 said, " but I am certain, from what I have 
 seen in the few short visits and holidays that 
 I've had with my father, that he does not 
 make his living in a nice way. I'm sure that 
 he plays cards a lot, and I simply hate the 
 
 men he often plays with; and yet " and she 
 
 hesitated. 
 
 " Yet — what ? " I inquired anxiously. Her 
 admissions made me feel most anxious, and, at 
 the same time, curious. 
 
 " And yet sometimes he plays with quite 
 young men — almost boys — and I'm afraid — 
 well, Mr. d'Escombe — you know." 
 
 "Yes; I know what you mean, Miss Ella. 
 You think that he persuades them to play, 
 and wins their money, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes — but not unfairly. I can't believe 
 that father would ever do anything so really 
 horrid." 
 
 " Of course not, Miss Ella," I replied, feel- 
 ing at the same time that my eyes were opened, 
 and that I had cast in my lot with one of those 
 genteel social vampires so common in the big
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 17 
 
 cities of Europe. Yet, so far, I had nothing 
 but Ella's suspicions to go upon. I had been 
 given nothing to do personally, except to make 
 travelHng and hotel arrangements — and even 
 the names of the hotels were given to me ; 
 and I had been told, at all times, to assume a 
 grand air, and give the idea that we were folk 
 of great importance. 
 
 " If you do this," explained Featherson, 
 " we shall get well looked after, and obtain 
 the best of rooms and attendance. Money 
 talks, you know." 
 
 In Sorrento I saw very little of my em- 
 ployer. He obtained a footing very rapidly 
 in the great card-playing set of the town, and 
 he told me that he was making quite " a pot 
 of money." 
 
 In the meantime I was told off to look after 
 his daughter, and Ella and I spent much 
 time wandering about the beautiful country- 
 side, and making little excursions to Naples, 
 Capri, Amalii, and the various other adjacent 
 places of interest. 
 
 Of course, the inevitable happened, and I 
 fell quite seriously in love with my charming 
 little companion. I managed to keep my 
 secret to myself ; how I hardly know. But I 
 did; yet, of course, she knew. As the days 
 
 2
 
 i8 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 passed I found myself, when not with Ella, 
 very frequently in the company of an American 
 visitor in the hotel — a small man with very 
 piercing blue eyes and a marked American 
 accent. Ella took an instinctive dislike to him, 
 although he was always extremely attentive and 
 polite to her, and I think I got more of her 
 society than I should otherwise have done on 
 this account, as she seemed to hate to see me 
 with the American, and even went so far as to 
 interrupt us on several occasions. 
 
 On the whole, however, life moved both 
 pleasantly and quietly, although I could not 
 help feeling that I was living on the edge 
 of a quiescent volcano which might, at any 
 moment, become active. 
 
 I was right. The activity was very strange, 
 and very serious. 
 
 One evening, after we had been living at 
 the hotel for about three weeks, shortly after 
 dinner had commenced, an English lady who 
 was staying there with her husband came in 
 late — a very unusual thing for her to do ; and 
 it was evident to all in the room that she was 
 very agitated about something. 
 
 Her husband was sitting at their tahle-a-deux 
 waiting for her, but on listening to the state- 
 ment which she made to him in an undertone,
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 19 
 
 he got up hastily and left the dining-room, 
 everybody, of course, wondering what could be 
 wrong. 
 
 Our curiosity was very soon gratified, for 
 the manager of the hotel, a tall, red-bearded 
 Pole, who spoke seven languages fluently, came 
 into the salle-a-m anger, and announced in a 
 loud voice : 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, mesdames et mes- 
 sieurs, a visitor has had her jewellery stolen 
 from her room. I have summoned the police. 
 I must, therefore, most reluctantly, and, with 
 many regrets, ask everybody present to keep their 
 seats until the officers arrive. The jewellery 
 was seen by its owner half an hour ago, 
 consequently I am compelled to think that 
 someone in the hotel must be responsible 
 for the loss." 
 
 He repeated this statement in French and 
 Italian, and at the conclusion of his remarks 
 every guest was looking round covertly at the 
 occupiers of the other tables, wondering the 
 while who among that gay, well-dressed party 
 was the thief. 
 
 Ella and I were dining tete-a-tete, as Mr. 
 Featherson had been away since lunch. I 
 noticed that she went deadly pale as the 
 manager talked, and I feared that she was 
 
 2*
 
 20 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 going to faint. But she quickly pulled hersel'f 
 together. 
 
 " How dreadful it is to be mixed up in an 
 affair like this ! " she said across to me. " It 
 makes me feel quite ill. What will they do ? " 
 
 " Can't say, " I answered. " Unless they 
 search us all, and our baggage too." 
 
 At this moment my employer, with a fine 
 diamond stud in his dress-shirt, strolled into 
 the room and walked to our table, all the eyes 
 in the room being fixed on his tall figure. 
 
 " Hallo ! " he exclaimed, " everybody seems 
 very quiet — it's more like a funeral than a 
 dinner," and he glanced in an unconcerned 
 way around the big dining-room. " Sorry to 
 be late, little girlie," he said, smiling at his 
 pale-faced daughter, " but I've only just got 
 away from the ' Grand.' Been playing bridge, 
 and had jolly good luck — grand slam on no 
 trumps. But what the deuce is the matter ? " 
 he continued, with another quick glance around 
 the room, where all the other diners sat 
 almost silent, and, with but few exceptions, 
 looking at him. 
 
 "Mrs. Cass has just had her jewels stolen, 
 father," answered the girl in a low, frightened 
 voice ; *' and the manager says we're all to sit 
 here until the police come 
 
 ?j
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 21 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " he laughed, " and they suspect 
 some of us, do they ? Well, we can only offer 
 to be searched — eh ? " Glancing at me : 
 *' You don't mind, do you, d'Escombe ? You 
 haven't been a naughty boy — have you ? " 
 
 " Not I," I said, " I don't steal jewels." 
 And I smiled grimly. 
 
 " Very well, then ; — here, gargon ! " 
 
 A sleek, obsequious waiter appeared. 
 
 " Ask the manager if he will speak to me," 
 said my employer. 
 
 He was always obeyed, this tall, slight, 
 quietly spoken man, and the waiter appeared 
 in a few moments with the Pole. 
 
 " Look here," exclaimed my employer ; " we 
 want to be off. Can't we be searched and go ? 
 I'm quite willing to set the example, although 
 I haven't been in the hotel all the evening. 
 And this lady and gentleman," nodding at 
 us, " are also anxious to clear their characters." 
 
 "The police have just arrived, Signore," re- 
 plied the manager, who looked most uncom- 
 fortable and unhappy. He beckoned to a 
 quietly dressed little man who had just entered 
 the room. " This gentleman, M'sieur Feather- 
 son, and his party, wish to be searched, and 
 thus set an example for all the guests," he 
 explained.
 
 22 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Betiissimo,^^ answered the little man, look- 
 ing intently at Featherson and myself. 
 " Please come with me." 
 
 We went into the inner office of the hotel, 
 and were certainly most thoroughly gone 
 through. We could not have successfully hid- 
 den a pin. Ella had been taken to another 
 room by a woman, and came out looking even 
 whiter than before. We all three then went 
 for a stroll in the beautiful hotel grounds, for 
 the weather was fine, and the moon delight- 
 fully bright and clear. 
 
 "A very unpleasant business," declared 
 Featherson. " Ella, you're looking quite queer 
 and ill." 
 
 " I feel faint, father," was her answer. " I 
 think I'll go to my room." 
 
 We two men walked on a short distance, 
 and were then joined by my American friend 
 — Mr. James B. Rowe. 
 
 " I guess those jewels are gone for 'keeps 
 he volunteered to us. " I reckon the crook 
 who took them was too cute for most folk," 
 he added. 
 
 " What makes you think that ? " asked my 
 companion. 
 
 " Wal," drawled the New Yorker, " by the 
 time they've gone through all the baggage and 
 
 5
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 23 
 
 all the folks in the dining-sal-oon, there will 
 not be a guest in the hotel unaccounted for 
 except yourself, Mr. Featherson." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked my employer 
 hotly. 
 
 "What I say, sir," replied the American. 
 " All the guests came down from their bed- 
 rooms dressed for dinner, so there has not been 
 any opportunity for hiding six fairly bulky cases, 
 has there ? But where's the little missie ? " 
 
 " She's gone in. This wretched business 
 has upset her," said I, breaking in upon the 
 conversation, not relishing the tone which it 
 had taken between the other two. 
 
 The American glanced quickly at Mr. 
 Featherson, who had pushed a little ahead 
 of us, when suddenly he stumbled and fell 
 heavily to the ground. 
 
 I rushed forward to pick him up. 
 
 " Curse it, I've strained my ankle again," 
 he said. " How deuced unfortunate. I've 
 done it about four times already, and it means 
 no walking for me for three or four days at 
 the least. I say, Mr. Rowe, would you be 
 kind enough to run into the hotel, and ask 
 two strong waiters to bring along a chair to 
 carry me inside ? I daren't put my foot to 
 the ground."
 
 24 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Rowe, evidently not too pleased, started off 
 to do as he was asked. 
 
 The moment he was out of sight, Feather- 
 son's face changed its expression. " Here, 
 d'Escombe, quick ! " he said, speaking in a half 
 whisper. " If you love Ella — and I believe you 
 do — help me now. That man's a detective, 
 one of the shrewdest. The jewels are in a 
 wooden ventilator, in the corridor by my bed- 
 room. Now listen." 
 
 I was so thunderstruck by his words, that T 
 could not speak. 
 
 " When Rowe comes back I shall ask him to 
 help me in, and I shall send you for some 
 brandy. Go quickly to our rooms, and, if 
 they have been searched, then take the stuff 
 out of the ventilator, give them to Ella, and 
 tell her to hide them in her room for a short 
 
 time." 
 
 I gasped. By Jove, I was new to crime in 
 those days, and the calm way in which this 
 immaculate gentleman owned up to being a 
 common thief was too much for me. 
 
 "Hurry man," he added, "or it's all up. 
 This infernal accident prevents me doing any- 
 thing for myself — or are you going to 
 denounce me ? " 
 
 A moment only was allowed me to decide
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 25 
 
 on the matter — a serious enough one, Heaven 
 knows ! — whether or not to become the con- 
 federate of a rat cVhotel. But the thought of 
 poor Httle Ella, and also of the probable profit 
 which would accrue, decided me. Besides, if I 
 did tell what I knew I was stranded, almost 
 penniless, in a foreign country. 
 
 "All right — I'll do what I can," I answered, 
 just as Rowe returned with the waiters. He 
 hadn't wasted any time, and, evidently suspect- 
 ing Featherson, did not intend to lose sight of 
 him. I ran to meet him. " I am just going 
 to get a little brandy, Mr. Featherson is feel- 
 ing queer," I exclaimed as I passed the trio. 
 But I noticed that Rowe turned and looked at 
 me with evident suspicion. 
 
 I reached Ella's door panting and short of 
 breath, and when she answered my knock I 
 noticed that her eyes were red and tearful. 
 
 "What is it?" she whispered hoarsely. 
 " Have they found out ? " 
 
 " Found out what ? " 
 
 "That he — that my father stole the jewels ? " 
 she gasped. 
 
 " No, no," I said. " But what do you 
 know ? " 
 
 " I saw him coming from the woman's 
 room," she interrupted, her face ghastly white.
 
 26 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Have the police searched your rooms yet ? 
 I inquired. " There's no time to lose/' 
 
 "Yes, yes, all the three." 
 
 "Then I'm going to give them to you to 
 hide, according to your father's instructions," 
 I said in an undertone. " I'm just going to 
 my room to get something to cover the cases 
 with, and shall be back in a minute or two if 
 the corridor is clear— -luckily it's not much 
 used." 
 
 I slipped on my big motor-coat and strolled 
 along to the place Featherson had indicated, 
 trying to look unconcerned, but my heart 
 was thumping nervously away. I could feel it 
 very distinctly, and that's a bad sign. The 
 coast, however, was clear. Evidently the entries 
 and exits of the big hotel were well guarded. 
 In a few moments, however, I had transferred 
 the cases, which I found in the ventilator, into 
 my commodious pockets. Just as I finished 
 a waiter turned the corner of the corridor, 
 but luckily there was a bath-room close by, 
 so I sauntered into it just in the nick of time, 
 although I admit I Hstened intently to see if 
 any alarm were ''ounded. 
 
 No, all was quiet, so I again emerged and 
 went post-haste to Ella's room, where I handed 
 her the cases. There was no time for talking,
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 27 
 
 so I rushed downstairs for the brandy. I had 
 been delayed too long, however, for as I 
 reached the hall the chair containing the 
 injured man was carried up the front stairs by 
 the waiters, the man Rowe still being in 
 attendance, most kind and sympathetic. 
 
 "Too late, d'Escombe," said Featherson 
 with a sickly smile, and then turning to his 
 carriers, "Right up to my room — Number 81 
 — and thank you so much for your kindness, 
 sir," he continued, turning to the American. 
 " I shall be quite all right now." 
 
 " I guess I'll come up with you, and see 
 you put all O.K. ," answered the other. " I 
 reckon I know some about sprains — and bullet 
 wounds," he added with a side wink at me. 
 
 " I really could not trouble you. My 
 daughter can do all that is necessary. She 
 knows exactly how to fix me up," said Feather- 
 son, with an air which said very distinctly 
 " Stand off." 
 
 " Very well. If you won't have me, you 
 won't. I'll look in and see you in the fore- 
 noon," the American said, and as he walked 
 away I felt that he knew he was temporarily 
 repulsed. 
 
 " Come on, boy," said the injured man to 
 me, and in a few moments we three — he, Ella
 
 28 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 and I — were in his bedroom with the door 
 locked. 
 
 " Where's the stuff," he inquired, as, much 
 to my astonishment, he got off the chair and 
 walked silently yet firmly to the door, and 
 examined the keyhole. Ella and I stared at 
 each other, neither able to repress a smile at 
 his able tactics and excellent acting. 
 
 There was certainly nothing wrong with his 
 ankle. 
 
 He glanced at us, caught the expression 
 upon our faces, and said, " You're both of 
 you in it now — you understand ? And you've 
 got to help, you've no alternative." 
 
 His pale-faced daughter, shaking with excite- 
 ment and emotion, half-sobbed out the words, 
 " Oh, father, is it really true ? Are you a 
 thief ? And yet it must be, because I saw 
 you leave Mrs. Cass's room with the jewel- 
 cases, and I know you got out of your bedroom 
 window afterwards. I was looking out of mine, 
 and saw you." 
 
 She broke down altogether, and then turning 
 to me said hoarsely, " Mr. d'Escombe, you 
 must leave us. You must not be mixed up 
 in this affair." 
 
 " Be quiet, Ella," interrupted her father 
 severely. " And mind your own business.
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 29 
 
 Mr. d'Escombe can quite well manage his own 
 affairs." Then, turning to me, he said, " You 
 see how you stand, and I promise you your 
 fair share of the profits. Everything is safe 
 enough now, and, if I am any judge of 
 character, you are not going to refuse five 
 hundred pounds on account of moral scruples. 
 Here's fifty to go on with." 
 
 The fellow knew me better than I knew my- 
 self, for I did not refuse. The lure of the 
 money, and the attraction of Ella combined, 
 were too much for me. So, in spite of the 
 tearful protestations of his daughter, I arranged 
 to convey the jewel-cases to his room in about 
 half an hour. 
 
 " We'll come to a definite agreement later 
 on," said the tall, polite adventurer. " At 
 present, we must be careful ; that infernal Ameri- 
 can is suspicious. I expect another visit from 
 him — although he knows nothing about me." 
 
 According to the arrangement, I smuggled 
 the well-worn leather cases to his room, and 
 watched him, tall and big as he was, crawl 
 out of the window, and so hand-over-hand up 
 an iron ventilating shaft, and deposit the cases 
 on the roof of the hotel. The window having 
 been re-closed and fastened, my agile friend 
 reclined on a couch in the room, while I rang
 
 30 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 for a waiter, who brought the two whiskies and 
 sodas which he ordered. 
 
 " Now, d'Escombe — to business," said my 
 employer when we were again alone. " It was 
 impossible to talk while Ella was here. Poor 
 little girl, she's had a bit of a shock, I'm 
 afraid. But you see how things are, and how 
 I make a precarious, but not unhandsome, 
 livelihood. My only reason for obtaining your 
 valuable services was to get help and, if 
 possible, bring you up in the way I would 
 wish you to go. Now will you go on helping, 
 or not ? Do as you like; there's risk, of course, 
 but there's excitement — there's life and there's 
 money — if you choose." 
 
 " I've already decided," I answered. " I will 
 help you until I have enough to comfortably 
 qualify on, and after that I shall go my own 
 way. At the same time, I may as well tell 
 you that I am very fond of Ella." 
 
 Her father laughed. 
 
 " Any reason, so long as you stay, dear boy. 
 Your innocent face is quite valuable to me," 
 he said. " But now listen. Later on, to-night, 
 I shall remove the jewels from those cases, and 
 they must be got away from here, sewn up in 
 Ella's dress ; the cases themselves I shall leave 
 on .the roof."
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 31 
 
 " You're surely not going to implicate her 
 as deeply as that Featherson ? " I queried, 
 dropping the prefix for the first time. 
 
 " Mr. Featherson, if you please," he inter- 
 rupted sharply. " It is necessary that you keep 
 on the same old terms with me ; you might 
 forget at the wrong moment. Yes ; Ella must 
 help on this occasion. I fear that detective 
 might make another excuse to get me examined 
 again, and I hardly think he will worry a lady 
 a second time." 
 
 "All right," I said, giving in to him, and 
 then I told Ella what was expected of her 
 later on. I had a good deal of trouble. There 
 were many tears to be kissed away, and many 
 " nothings " to be spoken, before I could get 
 her to see things from our point of view. 
 
 About ten o'clock — ah ! how long the 
 evening seemed — I strolled into the lounge. 
 
 " I guess you'll find your hands full up, 
 sonny," said a voice which I now heard with 
 aversion and some fear. " How's that darned 
 ankle, anyway ? " 
 
 It was Rowe. 
 
 " It's going on very well, thank you ; and, as 
 you say, I have a great deal to do just now," 
 I answered coldly, as I walked away. I was 
 not desirous of being questioned by the
 
 32 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 objectionable American who, it was very 
 evident, suspected my employer. 
 
 In the small hours of the morning, the 
 jewels were taken from their hiding-place and 
 put into Ella's care. After that we two men 
 had a long talk in undertones, the outcome of 
 which was that I v/rote to the Hotel Inter- 
 national in Algiers, requesting that rooms 
 should be reserved for Count Binetti and 
 daughter. 
 
 A great fuss was made over the loss of Mrs. 
 Cass's valuables, but nothing was discovered ; 
 and, after a couple of days of constant anxiety, 
 I was very glad to leave the hotel with 
 Featherson and Ella. 
 
 We had booked rooms at Bertolini's in 
 Naples — a delightful hotel — and it was cer- 
 tainly a great pleasure to be away from the 
 constant espionage of James Rowe, whom, 
 however, we met afterwards in the town ; 
 which fact proved Featherson's wisdom in pre- 
 serving his limp and bandaged ankle for the 
 time being. 
 
 Two days later, however, I left, as I ob- 
 tained a passage on a small Italian steamer to 
 Algiers, mv two companions promising to follow 
 later by a regular boat due to sail in a week's 
 time.
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 33 
 
 I registered at the Hotel International as 
 Monsieur Boileau, representing myself to be a 
 French tourist, and here my knowledge of the 
 language stood me in good stead. 
 
 This was the initial move in a new plot of 
 Featherson's to make further money ; and when, 
 in due course. Count Binetti and his daughter 
 arrived, I was passed by with a haughty stare 
 from that tall, supercilious-looking aristocrat. 
 Counts, of course, are numerous in Continental 
 hotels, but few of them have the superb 
 manner and presence of that able swindler 
 with whom I was now in partnership. 
 
 By careful arrangement, the Count's table 
 was next to mine in the dining-room, and in 
 a day or two he condescended to smoke a 
 cigarette with me, while his daughter — bless 
 her little heart — became quite friendly. Poor 
 girl ! She was most unhappy, but could not 
 desert her father, although she knew he was 
 contemplating another risky coup. 
 
 The young Prince de Montelupo arrived at 
 the hotel shortly after Featherson, and with 
 him were his mother and two or three other 
 grand ladies and gentlemen with long names 
 and titles — and much jewellery. 
 
 Everything was now ready for our adventure, 
 and early one morning, about half-past one, 
 
 3
 
 34 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 having warned Ella, Featherson and myself 
 went to either end of the long building and 
 set fire to two fuses which would burn long 
 enough to enable us to return to our rooms. 
 This business was very carefully timed, and 
 almost as soon as we got back first one loud 
 report and then another resounded and thun- 
 dered through the corridors and halls of the 
 big hotel. Immediately pandemonium reigned 
 around us, which my partner and I added to 
 by shouting : '' Fire 1 Fire ! " 
 
 Truly our carefully prepared little explosive 
 smoke-balls were sufficient to stir anyone up ! 
 
 Out of their bedrooms, panic-stricken and 
 shrieking, rushed the guests. A few stayed to 
 throw on a dressing-gown or some light gar- 
 ment, but all hurried helter-skelter to get 
 down the escape stairs and outside the building 
 as rapidly as possible. Meanwhile, two figures 
 in capacious dressing-gowns with large inside 
 pockets and with a bag slung round their 
 waists hurried from room to room collecting 
 jewellery of all kinds, watches, money, pocket- 
 books — in fact anything portable or valuable. 
 
 These two, my dear Lanner-Brown, were, of 
 course, Featherson and myself, Ella having 
 rushed out with the frightened crowd. 
 
 We knew the scare would be over very
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 35 
 
 quickly, but the smoke from our fire-balls was 
 dense and acrid, and we had time to fill our 
 pockets and bags, and then, by a back staircase 
 which we had previously reconnoitred, we 
 joined the o*;her agitated guests who were 
 standing in the hotel grounds watching the 
 smoking building. Some were hysterical, others 
 half fainting, and, being mostly foreigners, all 
 were in a state of panic. But I saw that 
 already servants and waiters were returning 
 within the building, and it was certain that 
 an alarm of robbery would be raised very soon. 
 
 Our plans, however, were deeply laid. We 
 had settled upon a temporary hiding-place for 
 our plunder, and very soon the miscellaneous 
 collection we had annexed was deposited in a 
 large marble cup, which was raised about nine 
 feet high by the hand of a life-sized statue 
 which stood in a dark pathway. My friend's 
 shoulder made an excellent step for me to 
 reach this hiding-place. This done, we hurried 
 out of the garden and separately joined the 
 throng now re-entering the hotel. Here we 
 found that the police were already in charge, 
 and that there were rumours of an audacious 
 robbery. 
 
 Soon note-books were produced by the police- 
 agents, and the general excitement and indig- 
 
 3*
 
 o 
 
 6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 nation of the inmates of the hotel became 
 intense as they made out the list of their 
 losses. By Jove! Laurence! if half the curses 
 showered upon our heads had come to pass 
 we should have had a very hot time. Of 
 course, we had, each of us, lost articles of 
 value, and joined most heartily in execrating 
 the thieves. Indeed, we also put in a claim 
 for what had been taken ! 
 
 Of course, nothing was discovered, and in 
 two days' time I returned to Naples, Feather- 
 son and Ella following me very shortly. She, 
 poor child, seemed to have lost her good looks ; 
 her brightness and vivacity had disappeared, 
 and she was ready to cry at the slightest thing. 
 Featherson, cute customer, knocked the stones 
 from their settings and brought them away in 
 his pockets, first having cast the settings into 
 the sea. 
 
 Once more reunited in Naples, we held 
 another council of war. Featherson suggested 
 that he should take his daughter back to 
 France, where it was to be hoped she would 
 throw off the depression and melancholy which 
 had recently obsessed her, and afterwards be- 
 take himself to Antwerp, at which centre of 
 stolen goods he could get rid of the spoils of 
 the two adventures in which I had taken part.
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 37 
 
 " But how about me ? " I inquired. *■' What 
 am I to do ? Where am I to go in the 
 meantime ? I feel a Httle too close to Algiers 
 for real comfort, just at present!" 
 
 " Discretion, dear boy," laughed the old 
 rascal. " Why don't you take a run to Monte 
 Carlo ? Have a little flutter. I know — go to 
 the 'Hermitage,' and I'll join you there as 
 soon as I can fix things up. You'll find it 
 excellent, though expensive. And you can 
 keep your eyes well open there." 
 
 " Right ho ! " I answered. " But what about 
 cash ? I hav-en't very much left. You must 
 give me some more. I've only had fifty." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you must have some, I suppose," 
 he replied grudgingly. And taking out his 
 bulky pocket-book : " Here's another fifty for 
 you — five tenners. They must last till I do 
 the business," and he gave a most villainous 
 wink. 
 
 I was not exactly happy over this arrange- 
 ment. What if he made off, and never came 
 near me again ! 
 
 " How do I know that you'll come back, 
 Featherson ? " I queried, thinking it best to 
 speak out straight. 
 
 " You don't," he laughed. " You've got to 
 trust me. But I'll be back in a week or ten
 
 38 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 days, don't worry, boy." And I had to be 
 content with this meagre assurance. 
 
 However, Laurence, he did come back — to 
 find me at the "Hermitage" and stone-broke. 
 I'd lost every sou at the tables, and my hotel- 
 bill was owing — a big one ! 
 
 " Thank Heaven you've turned up," I said 
 as he swaggered in, immaculately dressed. 
 " Have you managed all right ? " 
 
 " So so," said he. " Let's have a whisky 
 and soda. I'll be your guest to-day. I'm 
 staying at the 'Regina.'" That wasn't the 
 hotel he named — for it would hardly do to 
 indicate it here. 
 
 His manner was supercilious, and I somehow 
 scented trouble. 
 
 " How much have you got for me ? " I asked 
 in an undertone as we sat at a little table in 
 the winter garden. 
 
 " I'm afraid I can't make it more than — 
 let's see, you've had a hundred ? — another four 
 hundred." 
 
 " What ? " I interrupted angrily. " Only 
 four hundred, and what have you netted ? 
 Five thousand, or more ! " 
 
 " Steady, boy — steady ! " The old rascal 
 smiled grimly at me. " You must leave 
 things to me. In fact," and he involuntarily
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 39 
 
 stiffened himself, "you are in my hands 
 entirely, and you will have to take what I can 
 afford. I told you so before." 
 
 " Why you told me perhaps I'd get two 
 thousand — and now " I said. 
 
 " Look here, d'Escombe," he interrupted 
 quickly, " you're entirely in my hands. You 
 can't hurt me without hurting yourself. Anc 
 I tell you I can only give you four hundred. 
 We must bring off another coup very soon." 
 
 " I'm hanged if I do," I answered angrily. 
 " I've done with you," and I rose. 
 
 " Don't be in a hurry," came the answer, 
 suave and quiet. " Come over to me later on, 
 and let's talk it over in peace." 
 
 " Very well, I will," and I think I shut up 
 my mouth with a vicious snap. I was exceed- 
 ingly cross and disappointed, and with a 
 casual au revoir, left my guest to himself. 
 
 Now I had fortunately made one friend 
 during my fortnight's stay at Monte Carlo — 
 a young French doctor named Jules Fabris, 
 who was studying medicine, and particularly 
 bacteriology, in various capitals of Europe. On 
 several occasions I had joined him at the big 
 laboratory attached to the hospital, down 
 in Monaco, and watched him at work with 
 cultures, bacteria and germs of all sorts and
 
 40 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 varieties, from complete innocence to savage 
 malignancy. 
 
 I strolled round to see him after Featherson 
 had left me. 
 
 " Hullo, my dear friend," he greeted mc 
 with joy, shaking my hand. " Come and see 
 the lance-shaped diplococcus ; it's almost new 
 to me." He knew that as a student I was 
 interested, for I had studied several text-books 
 on the subject, notably Muir and Ritchie's. 
 A few minutes later I applied my eye to the 
 microscope, and watched the little pairs of 
 cocci under the cover-glass. 
 
 " What are these," I inquired with curiosity. 
 
 " Very deadly ! Oh, very, very deadly," was 
 the reply. " The pneumococcus, the germ of 
 pneumonia, and incidentally of many other 
 causes of rapid death." 
 
 The short lecture he then gave me imbued 
 me with a great respect for the tiny little 
 objects I could see so distinctly. 
 
 Later that night I had a stormy interview 
 with Featherson, and though I left him with a 
 gay bon soir my heart was full of thoughts of 
 revenge. He was simply using me as a cat's- 
 paw and taking all the prizes himself. 
 
 I could not, as I had dreamt of doing, go 
 back to London, get qualified, and commence
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 41 
 
 in honest practice. I wanted, at the very 
 least, a thousand pounds. But nothing would 
 move him. Entreaties and threats were alike 
 useless. Next morning when I saw him walk- 
 ing on the terrace of the Casino he was 
 wearing one of those ugly black respirators 
 which are so often used by invalids — or pseudo- 
 invalids — on the Riviera. It suited him 
 apparently, just at that time, to pose as one. 
 I passed him by with a cold casual nod. 
 
 Two minutes later, there suddenly came 
 into my mind the idea which was to free me 
 from his slavery and give me a fair start in life. 
 
 Why not utilize some of my friend's cul- 
 tures, and use the respirator as a vehicle ? 
 
 I knew a good deal of medicine of course, 
 and I felt certain that if Horatio Augustus 
 Featherson got pneumonia his chances of life 
 were small, seeing that he was not a young 
 man and had led a hard, dissipated life. But, 
 conversely, my chances of money-making were 
 big. I should certainly pose as his friend if 
 he were laid up, and I should have very bad 
 luck if I did not obtain a good picking. I 
 knew that he always kept his money upon him, 
 generally in notes. 
 
 This, then, was to be the real parting of the 
 ways for me. I had either to cave in, and
 
 42 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 simply continue to act as an assistant to a 
 selfish and unscrupulous blackguard who evi- 
 dently did not intend that I should get out 
 of his clutches, or I had — the word must be 
 faced, Laurence — to murder him ! 
 
 My transient infatuation for Ella had long 
 ago disappeared, and the death of her father 
 would be no great loss to her. 
 
 Yes, I decided to do it. It was the only 
 way ! 
 
 So I took a stroll in the sunshine and 
 thought out my method of procedure. I 
 should have no difficulty in getting a cultiva- 
 tion of the diplococcus. There were several 
 in my friend's laboratory, and I had the free 
 run of that. But I must make an opportunity 
 to inoculate the respirator. 
 
 I started next day by calling on Featherson 
 at his hotel. 
 
 " I am sorry," I said, with an appearance 
 of contrition, " that I so foolishly lost my 
 temper yesterday. I hope you'll shake hands 
 over it all, and we can then be friends once 
 more." 
 
 " Jolly glad to do so, my boy," said the old 
 reprobate with the hearty laugh which he 
 could produce at will: " I feel certain that 
 we thieves cannot afford to fall out. Now
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 43 
 
 we'U set to work on a new coup^ and then 
 perhaps you'll be able to get a bigger per- 
 centage. You must see that, so far, I've 
 worked everything, and therefore I ought to 
 take the lion's share of the profits — eh ? " 
 
 He did not mention that if we'd been 
 caught the balance on the other side would 
 have been fairly equally distributed. 
 
 He was in his bedroom in a brocaded 
 dressing-gown when I saw him, and, keeping 
 my eyes open, I soon noticed the ugly black 
 respirator lying on his dressing-table. 
 
 When could I get at it, I wondered. It was 
 not an easy matter. Neither was the trans- 
 mission of the deadly bacteria ; and when I 
 left him, having promised to dine with him 
 that evening, I was still turning over in my 
 mind how best to get to work. 
 
 He was wearing the object of my thoughts 
 late that afternoon while we strolled along the 
 terrace of the Casino by the sea, and I, care- 
 fully watching, saw him put it in a little case, 
 which he placed in his coat-pocket as, later on, 
 he entered the atrium of the Casino. 
 
 The brilliant surroundings, the red-coated 
 Roumanian band across at the Cafe de Paris, 
 the host of smart, well-dressed folk by whom 
 I was surrounded, had no interest for me that
 
 44 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 evening. My mind had but one objective — 
 that respirator. 
 
 How was I to get hold of it without his 
 knowledge? Only a few moments were needed 
 to introduce the deadly germs of pneumonia 
 into it, and then, once he had inhaled a breath, 
 the affair was finished. 
 
 I decided to try next day. I dare not delay. 
 
 He might leave at any day, at any hour, 
 and certainly I could not carry such savage and 
 death-dealing organisms about with me indefi- 
 nitely. No, I had to manage it somehow im- 
 mediately, and so determined was I that I paid 
 a visit to the laboratory next afternoon, knowing 
 that my friend Fabris was otherwise engaged. 
 I took away one of the eight small culture- 
 tubes labelled " diplococcus lanceolatus," and 
 I assure you that when I placed it, carefully 
 wrapped in a roll of lint which I had brought 
 with me, within my waistcoat pocket, I longed 
 most heartily to have an early opportunity of 
 dispensing with it. 
 
 What if someone jostled me heavily, or I 
 fell — or any one of the many small possible 
 accidents occurred ? Then I myself stood a 
 great chance of inhaling, or becoming inoculated 
 on my clothes or hands with this particularly 
 virulent germ.
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 45 
 
 However, the risk had to be taken. Moreover, 
 I had to dispose of the parcel in one of the 
 small pockets of my dress-clothes. This was 
 worse still, but I was desperate, and took my 
 chance. 
 
 I reached his hotel early with the idea of 
 seeing my quarry in his bedroom again. My 
 only chance was during his change of clothes, 
 and I timed it just right. He was carefully 
 tying his black bow over his pique dress shirt 
 as I was shown into his room. I had prepared 
 my story. 
 
 " I intended to wait for you below. Feather- 
 son," I explained. " But, do you know, I am 
 afraid that fellow Rowe is downstairs. I am 
 almost certain it was he I saw, sitting in the 
 corner of the lounge under a big palm, 
 disguised with a beard. I thought it would 
 
 be wise if you were to reconnoitre before we 
 
 went down, eh ?" 
 
 " By Jove ! " ejaculated the old sinner, " I 
 
 sincerely hope it isn't, but I'll go and see. I 
 
 can have a good look from the top of the 
 
 stairs." And he hurriedly put on his coat. 
 
 " Wait here a minute for me ; I can spot him, 
 
 however he's faked up." 
 
 He hurried off, and the next moment saw 
 
 me draw from the side pocket of his recently
 
 46 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 discarded coat the small case containing the 
 respirator. 
 
 Two seconds more, and I was sprinkling the 
 inside of it with the culture-fluid, my heart 
 meanwhile thumping away and ray hands 
 shaking. 
 
 It was done. I replaced the inoculated 
 death-trap in its case, and then back to the 
 coat pocket, when suddenly a knock came at 
 the door, and in walked a waiter. My heart 
 leaped into my throat, and a curious feeling 
 came into the pit of my stomach. 
 
 " Monsieur Featherson ? " he queried, looking 
 at me, as I thought, rather strangely. 
 
 "He's just gone out," I answered in a 
 shaky voice, and as I spoke the culture-tube 
 in my left hand fell to the ground and 
 broke. 
 
 I started back. The waiter jumped forward 
 to see what had happened, and then — a lucky 
 stroke of genius, Laurence — a glass of vermouth 
 and soda which my host had been drinking 
 stood on the table at my elbow, and as the 
 waiter stepped up, I upset this also on the 
 same spot as the broken tube. The man looked 
 at me reproachfully, yet with wonder in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " M'sieur has broken something ? "
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 47 
 
 " Nothing important," I replied in French. 
 " But you might just clear up the mess, will 
 you, waiter ? I have broken a little bottle of 
 mine and the glass of vermouth too. I'm 
 sorry to trouble you. Mr. Featherson will be 
 back in a minute if you wish to see him," and 
 I gave him half a louis. 
 
 The man left and returned very quickly, 
 but he was still sweeping up the debris as the 
 tenant of the room came back. 
 
 " Hullo, what's happened ? " he queried. 
 
 *' Oh, nothing, except I've spilled your drink, 
 but that can soon be remedied. Bring another — 
 no ; bring two vermouth and sodas," I ordered 
 the waiter as he, poor devil, took out his 
 dustpan with its deadly contents. 
 
 All this time I felt very nervous. Would the 
 young Frenchman say anything ? What would 
 happen to others who came into contact with 
 the tens of thousands of pneumonia germs now 
 set free in the house ? 
 
 These were ugly questions. 
 
 " I couldn't see any sign of the chap, 
 d'Escombe. I expect you were mistaken. 
 You're young at the game yet," laughed my 
 companion. " Anyway we'll risk it, and have 
 some dinner. Over at the ' Paris ' is best, perhaps 
 — or Giro's. How the dickens did you manage
 
 48 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 to make this infernal mess ? " he continued, 
 looking at the carpet. 
 
 " A mere accident. I'm sorry," I said. 
 " Let's have our drinks over at the cafe ; we 
 can keep our eyes open for awhile if he 
 really is about." 
 
 " All right," said he, and meeting the 
 waiter he instructed him accordingly. 
 
 Featherson was very agreeable that night, 
 and we both of us made a little money at 
 roulette. As we parted, after the Casino closed, 
 he said, " We shall get on very well together, 
 boy. I'll play the game by you. You see." 
 I wish he hadn't said that. 
 Next day I went over to the laboratory to 
 see Dr. Fabris. He was attending to his cul- 
 tures and had not missed the tube I had taken. 
 Later I went over to Nice with him and we 
 were persuaded to stay the night with his 
 acquaintances who lived up at Cimiez, and 
 also the following day, so I did not see 
 Featherson until the third day after I had 
 used the diplococcus. 
 
 When I did call in the afternoon I detected 
 a change in him. He was flushed, which was 
 very rare with him, and his eyes shone bright 
 and restless. 
 
 I knew the signs — the pneumococcus had
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 49 
 
 not failed, and sure enough late that evening 
 I was telephoned for to go to the hotel. 
 
 " M'sieur's friend is far from well, I fear," 
 the hotel manager informed me as I entered. 
 " He wishes to see you." 
 
 I went up, and found a doctor there. The 
 patient was tossing about in bed with a nasty 
 little hacking cough and was short of breath. 
 
 " I'm bad, boy," he said. " Devilish queer. 
 God knows what's the matter. You'll keep an 
 eye on me, won't you ? I'm very much alone, 
 old chap, if anything's wrong," and his voice 
 broke. It was the first time he had ever 
 shown me any emotion. I think he knew he 
 was very ill. 
 
 " Serious case, m'sieur," the French doctor 
 told me afterwards downstairs, " and curiously 
 enough I have got another patient here — a 
 waiter — just the same thing, an acute form of 
 pneumonia, I fear. I hope not of an infectious 
 nature. If it is, mon Dieu ! everybody in the 
 hotel may be affected. Be very careful your- 
 self when you're in his room," he urged. 
 
 It had not struck me before that I might 
 start a series of infectious cases, and the 
 thought gave me a queer turn. It was more 
 than I had bargained for. I was young then. 
 But that feeling very soon wore off. 
 
 4
 
 50 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Well, to cut a long story short, I went back 
 next day and found the invalid delirious, and 
 as a nurse had been obtained, I had to send 
 her out of the room on a fictitious errand, 
 telling her that I was a medical man. Then 
 I proceeded to make a hurried search for 
 Featherson's note-case, which I ultimately 
 found beneath his pillow. I knew I ran an 
 awful risk of infection, but had again to take 
 that. 
 
 I was disappointed to discover only two 
 thousand pounds in paper, out of which I 
 pocketed sixteen hundred, and replaced the 
 rest. It would not have done to leave him 
 without a fair supply — otherwise suspicion 
 might have arisen. 
 
 Well, he died, and the waiter died, and 
 afterwards two more of the hotel-servants. 
 It was a sad affair for the proprietor, as all 
 the guests left hurriedly. I frankly admit 
 that, once having obtained the money, I did 
 not run much risk of infection myself, but as 
 Featherson never recovered actual consciousness 
 it was no hardship to him. 
 
 I somehow, nevertheless, felt that I should 
 have liked to have soothed his last days. The 
 old blackguard had his good points. 
 
 I sent all he had left, in the way of money
 
 THERE IS OPEN CONFESSION 51 
 
 and effects, to Ella, and wrote her a long 
 letter saying how very sorry I was — and how 
 I wished I could have done more for him. 
 
 That affair completed, I returned to England, 
 having actually avoided the temptation to 
 increase my capital at the tables. I very soon 
 started my medical curriculum — with what result 
 I will, later on, confess to you. 
 
 The pneumococcus is a very efficient and 
 valuable weapon ; but it is extremely hard to 
 control its actions or its ravages, exhibiting, as 
 it does, so many and varied forms of attack. 
 
 I have had cause to use it on one other 
 occasion, which, perhaps, my dear fellow, I will 
 in due course relate to you. 
 
 Poor old Featherson ! I'm sorry, in a way 
 — even now.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 IN WHICH A LADY IS CONCERNED 
 
 T3ERHAPS the strange sequence of events 
 -■- which occurred in a country-house, 
 where I was a guest about six months before I 
 got qualified, first put into my mind the enor- 
 mous possibiHties of crime that a thorough 
 knowledge of toxicology placed in the hands 
 of a medical man who did not possess any so- 
 called morals — or a conscience. 
 
 It is a rather queer story, my dear old fellow, 
 and I will tell it you as I gleaned it, after having 
 gathered together all the threads of the tangle. 
 
 I had gone to stay with a comparatively new 
 friend, with whom I became acquainted in none 
 too savoury surroundings in London, a fellow, 
 younger than myself, named Anthony Laurence, 
 and who lived with his people at Mallowfield 
 Court, ten miles from York. His father, Sir 
 Geoffrey Laurence, resided there with his second 
 wife. My friend was her son — a youngster of 
 
 52
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 53 
 
 twenty, who was too lazy to take up even the 
 easy profession of arms, which his half-brother 
 Francis, the heir to the estate, had done. 
 
 Francis did not get on at all well with his 
 step-mother, who, as I afterwards discovered, 
 was an Argentine lady, and whose son Anthony 
 had inherited from her the tendency to idleness 
 and the love of ease and comfort, which is common 
 to that curious mixture of European and native 
 American nationalities called the Argentino. 
 
 Francis — who was at Aldershot — under these 
 conditions went home but seldom, fond as he 
 was of his father, leaving, therefore, his step- 
 mother and her son a free " run " of the family 
 estate. 
 
 I cannot say that I was personally struck with 
 Master Anthony, but even in those days I had 
 a keen eye to the main chance, and when he 
 invited me to Yorkshire to stay with his people, 
 I accepted, not knowing at the time, however, 
 how matters stood with the family. 
 
 Francis, I learnt, had a good allowance from 
 his father, and the want of money had never 
 troubled him. As a matter of fact, I found out 
 that he was a particularly clean-living young 
 man — the society of women he had never culti- 
 vated, and he was looked upon by match-making 
 parents as a hopeless bachelor.
 
 54 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Two days after I arrived at Mallowfield a 
 great disaster happened. Sir Geoffrey became 
 suddenly ill at dinner, and the fussy little family 
 medico diagnosed that he had been attacked 
 by an apoplectic seizure. Consequently, Francis 
 was wired for next morning, and arrived about 
 six o'clock on the same evening. 
 
 I was in the hall when he arrived, and saw 
 his step-mother — a sly, dark, beautifully-formed 
 woman who did not look her forty-five years 
 — meet the young lieutenant at the door of 
 his home. 
 
 He shook hands with her and immediately 
 inquired after his father. 
 
 " He had a stroke last night," she answered, 
 " and Dr. Shaw-Lathome fears that he will not 
 recover. Poor Frank, I am so bitterly grieved." 
 And her handkerchief went up to her eyes. 
 
 " May I go up and see him ? " asked Francis 
 in a cold, unemotional voice. I found out later 
 that the presence of his stepmother always made 
 him show the worst side of his character. 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish," she replied. " We 
 have got a nurse — a very good one." 
 
 He went upstairs, and the nurse admitted 
 him to have, as it turned out, his last look at 
 his unconscious father. 
 
 Meanwhile — you understand, of course, that
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 55 
 
 I gathered all these facts later — his step-mother 
 retired to her cosy little boudoir, in which, 
 lounging in an easy chair, she found her son 
 Anthony. 
 
 He was a pleasant-looking youth, of small 
 build and stature, with large dark eyes, clean- 
 cut thin features and black hair, which he had 
 inherited from his mother. 
 
 " Francis is here," she said. " My poor 
 Anthony, you will soon be almost a beggar. 
 Sir Geoffrey has, as you know, left everything 
 to him, with the exception of a life-income to 
 me and a miserable pittance to you. Oh, 
 what an injustice, and a shame ! — to a lout 
 like that — it maddens me, Anthony ! " 
 
 " But why, mother ? " 
 
 ^' The will is this : if Francis survives his 
 father practically everything is his, to do as he 
 likes with — and we must go. You know he 
 hates me ! But if your half-brother died first, 
 Anthony, the estate would be yours." 
 
 "That's no good to me, mother," answered 
 the young man. " Francis is as strong as a 
 horse, so it's evidently settled. Poor father 
 can't live long, but I'll talk to old Frank to- 
 night, and see what he'll do for me. I can't 
 work, and he knows it. Oh ! he'll see me put 
 all right. He must help me."
 
 56 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 His mother smiled bitterly. " Yes, you're to 
 be a pensioner, on your good behaviour, and 
 perhaps allowed to see your mother once a 
 year, or something like that. I know he hates 
 me, and I hate him. Ah, how I hate him 
 and his cold English ways ! " 
 
 " I'll try anyway, later on," replied her son. 
 " He's not so bad, mother, you know. It's 
 only his way." 
 
 " His way ! " she was interrupted by the 
 entrance of the elder son at that moment. 
 
 " I'm afraid it's all over with the poor old 
 guv'nor," he said in a shaky voice. " Both 
 Shaw-Lathome and the London man say 
 there's no hope." His face was white, and his 
 lips trembled — he was very fond of his 
 father. " Where am I to sleep to-night ? " he 
 continued, looking at his step-mother. 
 
 " In the tower-room, Francis, if that will 
 suit you," she answered. " It's nice and quiet, 
 and has its own staircase — so you will not be 
 interrupted." 
 
 " Thanks, that will do for me very nicely. 
 I shall go there early, as I may be called up 
 during the night," the young officer replied. 
 " Who knows ? " 
 
 " You'll have something to eat, Francis ? " 
 
 " Thank you, I suppose one must eat how-
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 57 
 
 ever bad things are ; but I'll go to the ' den ' 
 first, and smoke a pipe." 
 
 " And I'll go and see that your room is 
 comfortable and ready for you," said the lady. 
 As she left the room, her mouth was shut 
 tight and her hands clenched. 
 
 Francis, having sought his room early, was 
 joined at midnight by his half-brother, who 
 went, as he told his mother, to ask for help 
 in the future. 
 
 The man-servant Roberts, who took whisky 
 and soda up to the room, noticed that the 
 two young men were excited, and he heard 
 high words between them as he left. 
 
 About four o'clock that same morning, the 
 servant, who was sitting up waiting for pos- 
 sible contingencies, was summoned by the nurse 
 to go and fetch the lieutenant as his father 
 had just died suddenly, and at the same time 
 another man was called up to go and wake 
 the doctor, who was sleeping in the house, 
 and other members of the family. 
 
 Scarcely a few moments had passed before 
 the man Roberts came rushing back, his eyes 
 almost starting out of his head, his knees 
 shaking under him, his mouth twitching. 
 
 " Mr. Francis " he gasped out jerkily, 
 
 almost in a whisper, " dead — dead in his bed.
 
 58 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 all screwed up and convulsed ! and horrible — 
 
 awful " Words failed him, he seemed to 
 
 be struck dumb with horror. 
 
 The nurse — a capable woman — took him hy 
 the shoulders and shook him. At that moment 
 Dr. Shaw-Lathome arrived, followed almost 
 immediately hy myself. We had occupied 
 adjoining rooms. He was a little, fat, fussy 
 man, with gold eye-glasses and short, bristly 
 grey hair — you know the type, old chap. 
 
 " What's this I hear ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Sir Geoffrey has just died suddenly, 
 doctor," .answered the nurse. " But this man 
 whom I sent to fetch Lieutenant Laurence 
 says that he is dead also — or if not, convulsed 
 and seriously ill. There is evidently something 
 horrible the matter. Will you see ? You can 
 do nothing for Sir Geoffrey himself, and this 
 man " — nodding towards the shivering Roberts 
 — " is useless." 
 
 " Eh, what ? — young Francis dead ? What 
 do you mean ? " inquired the medico, looking 
 severely at the servant. 
 
 " He is dead in his bed, sir," repeated the 
 frightened man. " Come with me, and I'll 
 show you the room — in the tower — but I 
 won't go in again, sir, no — not for a thousand 
 pounds — awful — awful "
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 59 
 
 *' Go on, then," ordered Dr. Lathome ; 
 and turning to me, " Mr. d'Escombe, you're 
 in the profession, will you come with me ? " 
 
 We followed the servant down the fine 
 staircase, into the big hall, along a corridor, 
 and thence up a narrow, winding stairway, 
 evidently built into a circular tower. The 
 man pointed to a door at the top, and then 
 turned and hurried away. He was half crazy 
 with fright. 
 
 The doctor knocked at the door, but getting 
 no answer, opened it, and we both entered, 
 to start back aghast. 
 
 The man was right — the sight that had met 
 his eye was enough to terrify stronger men 
 than he. On the bed, curled and curved into 
 the most extraordinary and unnatural position, 
 was the body of the handsome and well-set-up 
 young officer who had arrived but a few hours 
 before. 
 
 His face, half buried in a pillow, was almost 
 black, his eyes stared wide open, but showed 
 little except the white conjunctivas, and his 
 tongue — half bitten through — protruded from 
 his mouth. His hands were clenched, the nails 
 driven deep into the skin, and his back was 
 curved like a bow. Even the toes themselves 
 were doubled up close to the soles of his
 
 6o THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 purple feet. The sight was a terrible one 
 even to the medical eye. Every portion of 
 the unfortunate young man was in a condition 
 of extreme muscular spasm. 
 
 " There is no doubt that he is dead, poor 
 chap," said my companion ; " and it looks 
 like poison — perhaps strychnine ! Look about 
 you, Mr. d'Escombe ; but don't touch or move 
 anything. We must send for the police at 
 
 once." 
 
 We made a careful but superficial examina- 
 tion of the body, and looked closely for any- 
 thing, either in the shape of a bottle or glass, 
 which could have contained the fatal dose. 
 But we found nothing. 
 
 "We can do no more at present," declared 
 the doctor, before many minutes were over ; 
 and as we left the room and its horrors, he 
 carefully locked the door and took the key, 
 which he found on the inside of the lock. 
 
 We then went to the bedroom of the dead 
 baronet. I followed, although it was nothing 
 really to do with me, meeting on the way the 
 still half-dazed Roberts, whom we had sent to 
 the police-station. 
 
 The lady of the house, subdued and tearful, 
 met us as we entered. Her son was behind 
 her, looking anxious and distraught.
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 6i 
 
 " Oh, doctor, what has happened ? " she 
 asked, sobbing volubly. 
 
 "A very terrible affair, my dear lady," he 
 answered, recovering his professional manner. 
 " In addition to the death of your husband, 
 which, of course, we expected, I am grieved to 
 tell you that Mr. Francis has come to a 
 terrible end. He is dead too." 
 
 Lady Laurence gave a scream, and collapsed, 
 moaning, on a chair, but Anthony stepped 
 forward, his face working convulsively. " What, 
 Francis dead ! It's not true, doctor ; is it, 
 d'Escombe ? " appealing to me. I could see 
 real misery in his eyes. " Say it's not true — 
 tell me, old man." 
 
 " It is, Anthony, only too true," I repHed, 
 wondering somewhat at his extreme agitation, 
 knowing, as I did, that he and his half-brother 
 were not the closest of friends. " And I fear 
 also that it is not a case of natural death," I 
 added. 
 
 "Not natural," he half whispered in a 
 husky tone. " Why — why — what do you mean, 
 Archie ? Suicide or ? " He feared to con- 
 tinue. 
 
 " We know nothing yet ; the police have 
 been sent for and the room is locked, " I told 
 him. " But, buck up, man, you must face
 
 62 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 the music. You are the head of the family 
 
 now. " 
 
 " The head of the family, " he repeated 
 under his breath, and glanced furtively at his 
 mother, who, attended by the nurse, still lay 
 faint and pale on the couch to which she had 
 been carried. 
 
 I must say that some suspicion of foul play 
 came into my mind. Had Anthony anything to 
 do with the death of the young man upstairs ? 
 
 The household was by this time in a state 
 of panic. Servants stood here and there in 
 twos and threes, whispering in awe-struck 
 tones. No one seemed to know what to do; 
 but just at this moment a police-sergeant, 
 followed by a constable, was announced by 
 the man Roberts. 
 
 " Lady Laurence is too ill to see anyone," 
 answered Dr. Shaw-Lathome, who, in lieu of 
 anyone more competent, had to take charge 
 of affairs. " I will see the sergeant at once." 
 He turned to me once again, as if in need of 
 help. " Will you come with me again, Mr. 
 d'Escombe ?" he said. " I am the police- 
 surgeon, and shall have to take this case over at 
 first, any way. " 
 
 " I'll be pleased to help in any manner I 
 can, " I answered, and turned to leave the
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 63 
 
 room, glancing for the moment at Anthony, 
 who was still standing near his mother with 
 an expression on his face which I could not 
 understand — it was a. mixture of fear and 
 fright, and yet somehow he had not the 
 crushed look of a guilty man. 
 
 We conducted the officer to the tower- 
 room, and the horrible scene. 
 
 Dr. Lathome then pointed out to the police 
 the attitude of the body, and also showed two 
 very dark livid marks, one on each side of the 
 dead man's throat — thumb marks apparently, 
 he said. 
 
 The sergeant's eyebrows lifted. " Violence," 
 he commented. 
 
 " It looks like it, " said the surgeon, " but 
 we must have some further medical help." 
 
 "And official," chimed in the officer. "We 
 had better send at once. " And he gave the 
 constable some instructions. 
 
 On the following day an inquest on the 
 body of Lieutenant Laurence was held, and at 
 the end of it Anthony Laurence, my friend 
 and host, was arrested for the murder of his 
 half-brother. 
 
 The evidence was stronger than I had 
 imagined. It was proved that the two young 
 men had quarrelled. Roberts was positive as
 
 64 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 to that. It also appeared to be quite certain 
 tliat no one could possibly have visited the 
 dead man on that evening but his half-brother, 
 as in order to reach the tower-room it was 
 necessary to pass through the hall, and that 
 had not been empty for a moment during the 
 few hours before the death. 
 
 Anthony, in his evidence, volunteered the 
 statement that he and Francis had quarrelled, 
 and admitted also that the marks on the 
 throat were probably his handiwork, the two 
 having come to blows. " But," he said, 
 " Francis was stronger than I, and although I 
 held him by the throat for a very short time 
 he afterwards threw me out of the room and 
 shut the door. What I did was really done in 
 self-defence." 
 
 He swore that he left deceased about one 
 o'clock, very angry, but in perfect health as 
 far as he knew, and that he had then gone to 
 his own room. 
 
 There was no evidence to support him, 
 however, as to the time, although Roberts 
 admitted seeing him pass through the hall 
 " very late." 
 
 The medical evidence was very curious, and 
 to me, my dear fellow, most interesting and 
 instructive.
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 65 
 
 " Death," said Professor Hughes, the expert 
 called in, " resulted from asphyxia, and might 
 have been caused by strangulation, and the 
 thumb marks on the throat were extremely 
 suspicious." 
 
 Then he went on : 
 
 " The general condition, position and appear- 
 ance of the body was unnatural to a degree, 
 and it seems to me that some other factor 
 beside the compression of the throat should be 
 taken into consideration, although so far we 
 have no evidence whatever of poison. Rigor 
 mortis — stiffening — had set in early in the 
 morning, putting the time of death at eleven 
 o'clock at the latest, under normal conditions, 
 and yet at twelve-thirty the man-servant 
 swears that he saw deceased alive and appar- 
 ently in robust health. The post-mortem 
 examination reveals nothing, although further 
 research as to the presence of poison will be 
 undertaken." 
 
 Under the circumstances the police had no 
 option but to arrest Anthony and detain him 
 on suspicion, pending a further inquiry. 
 
 Lady Laurence was exceedingly upset over 
 this result. She cried continuously and refused 
 to eat, or talk, or see anybody, even though 
 the doctor pointed out to her that the 
 
 5
 
 66 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 evidence was not strong enough to convict 
 her son. 
 
 " My poor boy, my poor boy ! What shall 
 I do ! Whatever shall I do ! " she wailed con- 
 tinuously, and constant nursing and attention 
 was necessary for her. 
 
 The late baronet's will, as she told her son, 
 left everything, except her jointure, to him, if 
 the elder son, Francis, died before his father, 
 and without a legitimate heir. But the ques- 
 tion immediately arose, which of them did die 
 first ? There was no definite evidence to 
 show this, and this proved to be another 
 factor in producing the lamentable mental and 
 physical condition of Lady Laurence a few 
 days after the tragedy. 
 
 My friend Anthony was eventually brought 
 before the magistrate and charged with murder. 
 
 Counsel defending him seemed to me to be 
 singularly incapable, and but for my prompt- 
 ing from the seat I had secured behind him, I 
 believe he would have allowed the case to 
 proceed without even pointing out what a sad 
 mistake was being made, and how flimsy the 
 evidence was against the man charged. Yet 
 I had, at the back of my mind, the idea — call 
 it intuition if you like — that Anthony was not 
 keen on making a defence, though I felt certain
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 67 
 
 that when the case came before a judge — if it 
 did — that Anthony was safe, although the 
 evidence against him in some directions was 
 very strong. 
 
 " Who else," argued the prosecution, " could 
 have done it ? It is evident that the deceased 
 had only the one visitor that night, and with 
 him a quarrel was admitted." Motive also 
 was adduced, and in the end my young friend 
 was committed for trial. I obtained permission 
 to see him on two occasions while he was in 
 prison, but could get practically no informa- 
 tion from him. 
 
 " You know, Archie, that I didn't do it," 
 he said sadly. He seemed miserably depressed, 
 and no wonder ! " And I know nothing about 
 it, but I can see that there is a lot of evidence 
 against me. We did have a row that night. 
 I asked him to give me a decent income — told 
 him that he ought to do so, and he rounded 
 on me, saying that I was a lazy young devil, 
 that he wouldn't encourage me, but that if I 
 would show any inchnation to do work of 
 some kind or another that he would then help 
 me. I got angry, and my mother's name 
 cropped up — that started the fuss. He said 
 she was a designing woman and hated him, 
 and I stood up for her, and after — well, you've 
 
 5*
 
 68 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 heard — I was chucked out. I hadn't a chance 
 against Francis." 
 
 " I beheve you, Anthony," I answered. 
 " And I'll do all I can to help you, but — who 
 killed him ? I feel certain it was not suicide." 
 
 The youngster said nothing — and again I 
 felt that he knew, or suspected more than he 
 could tell. 
 
 Who else was there, I asked myself, except 
 his mother, Lady Laurence. She had certainly 
 not visited the dead lieutenant after he went 
 to the tower-room. The mystery was in- 
 scrutable — every track ended, as it were, in a 
 blind alley. 
 
 Anthony asked me to stay at the house for 
 a time and help his mother in her loneUness ; 
 for she, poor soul, was a stranger in the land, 
 and the neighbourhood left her severely alone. 
 
 Lady Laurence, however, in a few days' 
 time recovered from her severe prostration up 
 to a point, but she sat, silent and wretched, 
 day after day in her boudoir, saying nothing — 
 but thinking all the time of her son in his 
 prison cell. 
 
 Meanwhile I was not idle, and as the day 
 for the trial at the Assizes at York approached 
 I began to feel more hopeful. 
 
 '^ I think we shall clear him all right," I
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED Gg 
 
 told the widow two days before the case was 
 hkely to come off. " I have not drawn 
 altogether blank." As a matter of fact I 
 suspected the employment of a hypodermic 
 syringe as the means by which poison had 
 been given. 
 
 She stared at me, with a terrified expression, 
 as it appeared to my mind, but said nothing. 
 
 On the following day we took rooms at the 
 Station Hotel at York. During the evening 
 Lady Laurence was startled by her maid, who 
 came into her sitting-room and said, " Mrs. 
 Laurence to see you, m' lady ; shall I show 
 her in ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Laurence," repeated her ladyship. 
 " Mrs. Laurence, who can she be ? Yes, show 
 her in, please — if she is respectable." 
 
 " Oh, quite, m' lady," replied the girl, and 
 in a few moments she ushered in a tall, slim 
 young woman, dressed neatly in a well-fitting 
 black gown. 
 
 " Pardon my intrusion," said the visitor, in 
 a soft, pleasant voice ; " but I have been ill, 
 and have only been able to leave my room 
 for the first time to-day, after nearly a month 
 in bed, during which time I was not allowed 
 to read or write. I only learned yesterday 
 about my poor Francis." There the girl
 
 70 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 broke down, and cried as if her heart would 
 break. 
 
 Lady Laurence looked on astounded, wonder- 
 ing what on earth the girl meant, but did not 
 attempt to move — did not even suggest a 
 chair to her visitor. 
 
 The girl, however, soon recovered her self- 
 control, and continued : 
 
 " Poor dear Francis. He would never let 
 me write to you or tell you." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " inquired Lady 
 Laurence, but I feel sure her heart sank with 
 a premonition of trouble in store. " Poor 
 Francis ? — to whom do you refer ? " 
 
 The girl — she was very young — threw up 
 her head on hearing the hard tone of voice. 
 
 '' I refer to my late husband — Lieutenant 
 Francis Laurence," she replied in a steady 
 voice. 
 
 *' Your husband ? " The elder woman could 
 hardly trust her voice, it seemed to be lost. 
 " Why — why — Francis was not married ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, but he was," answered the 
 visitor. " And, moreover, we have a little boy 
 three months old ; it was about him, in 
 particular, that I came to see you." 
 
 The elder woman looked at the speaker with 
 blank amazement' in her face, and at the same
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 71 
 
 time an expression of mingled horror and 
 despair was apparent. 
 
 " Francis married ! A son ! Impossible — it 
 can't be true ! " she gasped out, as she sank 
 back on her couch. 
 
 " It is true, Lady Laurence," replied the 
 young lady ; " and I am anxious to know how 
 my son is situated by the death of his father 
 and grandfather ? " 
 
 Lady Laurence stood up, looked at her 
 visitor for a moment with widely dilated eyes 
 and a ghastly, bluish-white face, and then 
 dropped on the floor, senseless. 
 
 She was carried to bed, and I, having been 
 hurriedly summoned, managed to obtain the 
 same nurse who had attended to her husband, 
 to look after her. I also sent for a medical 
 man. 
 
 Then I took charge of the visitor, and 
 learnt from her all I have just told you. 
 
 The sick woman, during the night, began 
 to ramble and talk incoherently, with occasional 
 lucid intervals, but her mind had apparently 
 given way ; why, it was hard to tell. 
 
 The nurse, after awhile, sent for me. 
 "• You must come and listen to her," she said. 
 " She talks about the most awful things. 
 What is curare ? "
 
 72 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Then, Brown, the light suddenly dawned 
 upon me. I was a theoretical student of 
 toxicology, and knew as much about poison, 
 and more, than most men. My thoughts at 
 once went back to that gruesome, unnatural 
 figure on the bed in the tower-room. Francis 
 had died of poison — and that poison was un- 
 doubtedly curare ! 
 
 " Phew ! What a fool I was not to think of 
 it before," I said to myself. " I can see it 
 all now." 
 
 " Does she talk of curare ? " I inquired. 
 
 " She speaks of Httle else at present," 
 replied the nurse. " Curare, poison, death, 
 convulsions, needles — her mind seems to run 
 in a circle." 
 
 " Needles," I repeated. " Needles ! " and 
 then went with the nurse and listened outside 
 the door of the sick room. 
 
 Next morning I went by the first train back 
 to the Laurences' house, and at once made 
 my way to the tower-room, which had been 
 left entirely undisturbed since the young 
 fellow's horrible death. 
 
 First I carefully examined the sofa-couch at 
 the foot of the bed ; there was only one 
 cushion on this, and that I left alone. Next, 
 the big padded easy chair had to bt over-
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 73 
 
 hauled, and I poked about these two articles 
 of furniture with a stick I carried with me 
 very carefully, and very closely, but no one 
 accompanying me would have understood my 
 movements. However, I found nothing and 
 turned my attention to the bed, still rumpled 
 and upset, and at last wrapping my hand in 
 my handkerchief, and on the top of that a 
 small towel, I started to prod and push about 
 the pillows. 
 
 I had been at this work from the start 
 about three hours before I gave a sudden 
 jump, and looked anxiously at the palm of my 
 hand, and I admit I felt a sudden sensation 
 of deadly fear, carefully as I had protected my- 
 self. After that, if you had watched me, you 
 would have seen me very slowly and with 
 infinite care draw from the pillow I last 
 examined a pin — a thing six inches long — 
 which I could not get entirely away until, 
 with my pocket scissors, I had cut the linen 
 cover. Then I held very gingerly in my 
 fingers one of those long pins used by ladies 
 with a round black head, the point of which 
 appeared to be rusty, and which had evidently 
 been sewn into the pillow itself. 
 
 The mystery was solved ! Poor unsuspecting 
 Francis had laid his head down on this death-
 
 74 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 trap, the point of the poisoned pin had 
 scratched him, and death, horrible and rapid, 
 had supervened. That was the end of him. 
 
 The whole story was now clear. A mother, 
 jealous, vindictive and greedy for wealth ; a 
 mother who loved her own son and hated her 
 husband's child had brought this about — and, 
 I felt sure, a son who suspected his mother. 
 
 I pictured her that night when Francis 
 arrived, desperate and half-insane, going to the 
 tower-room with this pin, its point prepared 
 with the curare poison, and sewing it into the 
 pillow, feeling sure that the young officer 
 would die before his father, and that her son 
 would become Sir Anthony Laurence. 
 
 How frightful must have been her feelings 
 when her son was arrested for her crime. 
 Again, how harried her conscience when the 
 question arose as to which of the twain had 
 died first, and finally, how hopeless and useless 
 her dreadful crime, when she found out that 
 there was another heir to the property and 
 title. 
 
 No wonder that her nervous system had 
 given way ; but I very much doubt if the 
 cause of the death of Francis Laurence would 
 ever have been elucidated unless the word 
 curare had dropped from her lips in delirium.
 
 A LADY IS CONCERNED 75 
 
 When I returned that night she was still as 
 bad as ever, and, as a matter of fact, was 
 removed to the York County Asylum within 
 the next few days and soon afterwards died 
 therein. 
 
 She was certainly a clever woman, and had 
 probably some considerable knowledge of the 
 poisons of her native land. I think I told you 
 she was a South American, and it was, of 
 course, from there that she brought her supply 
 of curare, which is certainly a most deadly and 
 efhcacious poison, and one which, if introduced 
 into the blood stream in the proper way, 
 leaves no trace for the post-mortem examiner 
 — as this case ultimately proved. 
 
 The medical evidence from start to finish 
 was of no value, except as to its false premises ; 
 the very early onset of rigor mortis would have 
 given me, in my later days, much information 
 — but I was young and inexperienced then. 
 
 I saw the chief constable, and told him 
 what I had found in the pillow, but taking 
 all the facts into consideration he decided to 
 take no further proceedings, seeing that, not 
 only was the unfortunate woman insane, but 
 that also there was no real definite evidence 
 against anyone, although there was no doubt 
 as to what had happened.
 
 76 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Anthony was brought up for trial, but at 
 the Assizes the grand jury did not return a 
 true bill against him, and consequently nothing 
 further came out. 
 
 The outcome of all this proved my young 
 friend's salvation, as he afterwards took up the 
 profession of the law, and did well. The 
 claims of the small heir were, of course, incon- 
 testable, and he is now already promising to 
 become a shining light in the county. 
 
 The whole story — and perhaps I have been 
 somewhat verbose — had a considerable effect 
 on my after life, for as I have already said, it 
 showed me very plainly how easy it is to 
 make things appear to be almost the exact 
 antithesis of what they really are. 
 
 To my mind, toxicology is the only " ology " 
 worth studying ; not only is it fascinating to a 
 degree, but it is valuable — very valuable.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 IN WHICH I DISCLOSE A SECRET 
 
 X/'OU never imagined, my dear fellow, in 
 -■- all the years of our intimacy, that I 
 was a gigantic fraud — -but I propose to show 
 you myself as I really was. 
 
 I started earning my own living as an 
 indoor assistant to a Dr. Shirley Eckington, 
 who had a poor-class practice in Leeds, 
 receiving eighty pounds a year. I had nothing 
 else but a maximum of assurance and a 
 minimum of morality. My life consisted of 
 much hard work, indoor and out, by day, and 
 cards, billiards and barmaids after my work 
 was finished — that is, as much as a doctor's 
 work is ever finished. But as time went on I 
 began to stay at home at nights, for the reason 
 that I had fallen temporarily in love with the 
 doctor's daughter — a pretty, innocent little 
 girl, who looked after her semi-invalid father
 
 78 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 with the greatest care and attention, but who 
 knew Httle or nothing of the outside world. 
 
 Poor Httle Gwen ! I can often see her big 
 blue eyes and golden hair even now ;" however, 
 that's by the way. Suffice it to say that 
 before long there was a definite understanding 
 between us, but which we kept strictly to 
 ourselves, knowing that we had no immediate 
 prospects of marriage. Her father, Dr. Ecking- 
 ton, was a peculiar man, who had evidently 
 lived a strenuous life, and at the latter end of 
 it was certainly not overburdened with wealth. 
 The practitioner among the poorer classes has 
 generally a hard struggle to pay his way, and 
 he was no exception to the rule ; he did not 
 possess the faculty of plausible lying which is 
 so necessary to success in the general prac- 
 titioner. He suffered with fainting attacks 
 which I regarded as showing heart trouble, but 
 up to a certain evening he had never 
 mentioned his ailments to me ; he treated 
 himself. It was after I had been with him 
 for about eight months, and two months after 
 my understandmg with Gwen, that he sent 
 for me one evening about eleven o'clock. 
 
 " Sit down, Mr. d'Escombe," he said, as he 
 handed me a cigar-case. " Excuse my getting 
 up, but I want to have a chat with you."
 
 I DISCLOSE A SECRET 79 
 
 "Thank you," I answered, wondering which 
 of my sins he had discovered. " Nothing 
 wrong, I hope ? " 
 
 " It depends," was his answer. " Have you 
 got any means of your own — except what you 
 earn, I mean ? — because, if not, I don't think 
 you have treated either me or my daughter 
 fairly. You can't marry on eighty pounds a 
 year." A grim smile played about his haggard 
 features as he spoke, but he did not appear 
 to be angry. 
 
 I confess I was staggered for the moment ; 
 he had found out, then, in spite of all our 
 care. 
 
 " I — I — what do you mean, sir ? " I faltered. 
 
 " Oh, I know all about it, my dear sir," he 
 said. " I've not lived all these years and not 
 learnt to keep my eyes open. But to return : 
 Are you now, or likely to be, in a position to 
 marry ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid not at present," I repUed, " but 
 I hope as time goes on to find an opening, 
 and I meant then to speak to you about a 
 formal engagement between Gwen and myself. 
 We are both quite prepared to wait." 
 
 " Bah 1 " sneered the old man. " Find an 
 opening — what kind of an opening, eh ? Don't 
 talk nonsense, man."
 
 8o THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I'm afraid I had nothing to say, and after 
 a few minutes' silence, he continued, leaning 
 forward and looking me straight in the face : 
 " Now listen to me. I am a poor man, and I 
 haven't very long to live — but even that is 
 too long." 
 
 " Too long. Dr. Eckington ? What do you 
 mean ? " I inquired, in astonishment. 
 
 "This," said he. "If I shufHe off this 
 mortal coil within the next week, Gwen will 
 have five thousand pounds, for which amount 
 my hfe is insured ; but as the premium is due 
 within seven days, and I haven't the necessary 
 money for it, the poHcy will lapse. My life 
 has been a hard one, my friend, and this 
 insurance is all I have been able to do in the 
 shape of provision for my girl when I'm gone. 
 I've never been able to save a penny beyond 
 this." 
 
 " But, my dear sir," I interrupted, " you 
 are good for years yet. Why talk like this ? " 
 " Not for years, d'Escombe," he answered, 
 with a sad smile. " Just listen here." He 
 tapped his chest, and I was surprised to find 
 how very badly diseased his heart was. " You 
 see how it is," he continued. " I can't hold 
 out much longer. Why prolong the agony 
 and leave the girl penniless ? No ; you and
 
 I DISCLOSE A SECRET 8i 
 
 she can marry, you can buy a practice, and I 
 shall die satisfied — but it must be this week.'''' 
 
 " What do you mean ? " I queried. 
 
 " Mean," said he, " mean — why, I intend 
 that you shall help me. A little digitalin, 
 followed by some morphia, a hypodermic 
 syringe — and all is settled. You can sign the 
 certificate, and Gwen — bless her heart ! — gets 
 the money. But not a word to her, mind. 
 She must never know." 
 
 I sat aghast. It was a remarkable sugges- 
 tion, a man quietly asking me to murder him. 
 It took my breath away for the minute, and 
 yet, it was easy enough, too, when one came 
 to think of it. 
 
 " You are not in earnest. Dr. Eckington ? " 
 I said. " I can't kill you in cold blood hke 
 this — it's too preposterous." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort, man," replied the 
 doctor. " I am in deadly earnest, and to- 
 morrow I shall take to my bed. You can 
 give me the first dose in the evening." 
 
 " I can't do it, sir," I protested. " Besides, 
 it might be discovered, and then " 
 
 " Nonsense ! You are quite safe. Anyway, 
 choose, and choose now — either a new berth 
 as an underpaid assistant, or wife, money, and 
 a practice." 
 
 6
 
 82 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 To cut it short, I consented, and next 
 evening, when he sent Gwen for me to go to 
 his bedroom, I gave him his first dose of 
 digitaHn, which was to initiate his final illness. 
 
 For the next two or three days I hardly 
 dared look Gwen in the face. Poor little girl, 
 she was very distressed over her father, and I 
 was genuinely fond of her — for the time 
 being. 
 
 " Is he very ill, Archie dear ? " she often 
 inquired. " He is going to get better, isn't 
 he?" 
 
 " Yes, darling. He is very bad, but we 
 must always be hopeful," I would say, feeling, 
 I must admit, an awful blackguard. I was 
 a bit thin-skinned still, but it wore off, as you 
 will read later. 
 
 On the fourth night, when I visited my 
 patient, he said : " D'Escombe, this must come 
 to an end. I can't stand much more of it ; 
 but make it as sharp and sudden as you can, 
 my boy. I'm very tired of it " — and I fancy 
 I saw tears come into his eyes. " I can't do 
 any more for my little girl than this, and I 
 thank you for helping me ; but God's curse 
 on you if you don't treat her well after I'm 
 gone. You promise, eh ? You'll not fail 
 me ? "
 
 I DISCLOSE A SECRET 83 
 
 " Of course, sir, of course I will," I 
 answered. " I love her very dearly, and will 
 do all I can to make her happy." 
 
 " And she is never to know — how I died ? " 
 
 " Never, I promise you most faithfully." 
 
 " Now, don't forget the morphia whenever 
 
 I send for you. Give me an extra dose of the 
 
 other now, and then send Gwen to me. 
 
 Perhaps I shall see you again to-night." 
 
 Ominous words. I went back to the surgery, 
 and thought it over, and as the hours passed 
 the waiting actually made me feel nervous. I 
 had three strong whiskies and sodas — rare for 
 me — but even then by midnight I was ready 
 to start at the slightest noise, and felt generally 
 all to bits. " This won't do," I thought. 
 " Buck up, old man," and just then I heard 
 a swish of garments, and in rushed Gwen in 
 a dressing-gown, bare-footed and dishevelled. 
 
 " Oh, Archie, Archie, come quick. I think 
 father's dying, please," and her voice broke 
 into a terrified sob. I snatched up my hypo- 
 dermic case and ran upstairs, Gwen following. 
 Eckington looked ghastly. His breathing was 
 laboured, and he appeared to be very ill — 
 much worse than he really was, but he was 
 evidently suffering great pain. " Now — now," 
 he whispered, as I sent Gwen away to fetch 
 
 6*
 
 84 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 something, " the morphia, quick." Even then 
 he could have been saved, and I'm not sure 
 that the wistful look in his eyes didn't mean, 
 " You needn't if you don't want to." But I 
 did — I was ready now — and without a hand- 
 shake I prepared, and gave, the injection. 
 
 " I'm going, Gwen," he whispered to her. 
 " Good-bye, my darling, d'Escombe will help 
 you." 
 
 He glanced at me with rapidly contracting 
 pupils, the weeping girl kneeling by his bed- 
 side, convulsively clutching one thin, white 
 hand. 
 
 " Good-bye — remember," were the last words 
 I heard before he fell into the stupor from 
 which there was to be no awakening. 
 
 We sat with him all night, and in the early 
 morning he died — while the poor little girl 
 sobbed on my shoulder. 
 
 I managed to quieten her after a time, and 
 told her that I would attend to everything. 
 
 Luckily there were no near relations to 
 come bothering with awkward and inquisitive 
 questions ; and everybody knew he had been 
 ailing for some time, so, therefore, no one was 
 surprised to hear of his death. I certified 
 aortic valvular disease, and in due time claimed 
 and got for my fiancee the insurance money.
 
 I DISCLOSE A SECRET 85 
 
 I persuaded her to agree to an early marriage, 
 and then, after some httle trouble, bought the 
 Okehampton practice, which, at any rate, to 
 begin with, suited me very well. He was a 
 plucky beggar that Eckington. What do you 
 think, Brown ?
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 IN WHICH I EARN A BIG FEE 
 
 FAURING my first two years of practice in 
 ^^ Okehampton I worked fairly hard, but 
 only made about eight hundred pounds a year, 
 which was not nearly enough, especially as my 
 tastes and habits became increasingly extrava- 
 gant. 
 
 I wanted good horses, good wine, good 
 cigars, plenty of holidays, and a thousand and 
 one other things and luxuries, which rapidly 
 absorbed more money than I was making. 
 
 I cannot imagine any worse feeling than 
 that of an empty pocket to a man who has 
 been accustomed to a full one. 
 
 My wife and I had a large circle of 
 acquaintances and kept almost open house to 
 those who liked card-playing. 
 
 I was at this time the delight and the 
 " much admired " of ladies, both young and 
 old, for whom I invented ailments, to cure 
 
 86
 
 I EARN A BIG FEE 87 
 
 which I provided necessary medicines and the, 
 to me most essential, resulting accounts. 
 
 I was getting very unhappy, however, when 
 one day, much to my gratification, I was 
 called to Scoriton Manor, a fine country resi- 
 dence about five miles distant from our little 
 town, to see the youthful heir to the estate 
 and ten thousand a year. 
 
 He was seven years old ; his father was dead, 
 and his mother lived at the Manor, which 
 with the whole estate was entailed. His uncle, 
 the next-of-kin, spent most of his time there, 
 and it was through his influence that I was 
 asked to attend the sick boy. He and I had 
 played billiards together at the County Hotel 
 on several occasions, and I might say that he 
 won every time, and, conversely, that I judi- 
 ciously lost. 
 
 Jack Chalmers was a bright, nice little chap, 
 and I did not find much the matter with him, 
 and so I told his mother, at the same time 
 carefully hedging in case anything might 
 develop later. She and I did not hit it off; 
 there are some people, the sort you call really 
 honest and straightforward, don't you know, 
 who have a ' natural antipathy to those who 
 are not of their way of thinking. 
 
 Captain Chalmers, the uncle, asked me into
 
 88 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 his room to smoke a cigar before I left, and 
 of course inquired after the boy. 
 
 " I managed to rush you in here this time, 
 my dear d'Escombe," he said, in his slow, 
 drawling manner, " but I'm doubtful, very 
 doubtful. ' Madam ' does not like you, I fear, 
 and is almost sure to find some excuse for 
 sending to London next time. What a pity 
 I'm not Lord of the Manor ; I could put 
 plenty of work and good fat fees in your way. 
 Is there anything the matter with the boy ? 
 His heart quite sound, eh ? " 
 
 Of course these remarks had the effect they 
 were calculated to have ; little Jack Chalmers' 
 death-warrant was signed in the few seconds 
 which passed before I answered. 
 
 " I can't say that I should be exactly sorry, 
 don't-yer-know," he continued, and looked 
 very straight at me through his monocle. 
 
 Then I started in to prepare my ground. I 
 talked about the hard times, lack of work, 
 shortness of money, and heavy expenses, and 
 ended up by asking the Captain point-blank if 
 he could lend me a hundred pounds for a 
 month. 
 
 " My dear boy," he answered, " I wish you 
 could do the same for me." 
 
 Oh," I said pointedly, " you and I are in
 
 I EARN A BIG FEE 89 
 
 the same boat and experiencing the same bad 
 financial weather, eh ? I suppose if you were 
 to come into the estate you would be glad to 
 lend a helping hand ? " 
 
 "I should just think so, old chappie; not a 
 paltry hundred, but ten times the amount." 
 
 " Or perhaps even more ? " 
 
 " Yes, perhaps twenty times." 
 
 " Is that a promise ? " 
 
 " Yes, in the very unlikely event of anything 
 happening." 
 
 " More unlikely things have happened, 
 Chalmers," I answered with a grin. " Well, 
 good-bye, I shall be up again to-morrow to 
 see how the boy is going on." 
 
 I thought furiously as I drove home, and 
 by the time the carriage drew up at my door 
 my plan was decided. 
 
 At this particular time I was attending a 
 child who was in the last stage of scarlet fever, 
 the desquamating stage we call it ; really a 
 peeling off of innumerable small flaky bits of 
 skin, each of which is capable of giving scarlet 
 fever to someone else. 
 
 What was easier than to convey this infec- 
 tion to the boy up at the Manor ? 
 
 Next day I visited the infectious case first, 
 and whilst examining him, I managed to
 
 go THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 scrape off enough of the Httle fragments of 
 skin under two of my finger-nails to give 
 scarlet fever to twenty children. 
 
 I had often manufactured cases, but now 
 two thousand of the " best and brightest " 
 were being dangled cleverly before me. 
 
 I had not only to communicate the disease, 
 however, but it was needful also to render it 
 fatal — not such an easy business, yet I could 
 not think of any better plan. You see, such 
 an enormous amount of care was taken to 
 keep the boy from running any risks. He was 
 always carefully watched and guarded. 
 
 I drove directly home from the fever 
 case and covered the two infected fingers 
 with rubber points cut from a glove, 
 which could be slipped off under cover of 
 my handkerchief, or even the bed-clothes, if 
 necessary. 
 
 I intended to plant my disease-carrying 
 atoms at the moment when I took the boy's 
 temperature, and I was a good deal taken 
 aback to find that since my departure the day 
 previously, Mrs. Chalmers had persuaded a 
 friend of hers, who was a nurse, to pay her a 
 short visit, and help look after Jackie j at the 
 same time, consequently, I found that the 
 temperature had been already taken
 
 I EARN A BIG FEE 91 
 
 Adopting a rather pompous and fussy 
 manner, however, I said that I should prefer 
 to take it again, and walking to the window 
 pretended to be looking at the thermometer, 
 instead of which I was of course removing 
 the rubber nail covers, one of which I was 
 clumsy enough to drop as I returned to the 
 bedside. 
 
 I put the thermometer into the boy's 
 mouth with my left hand, making sure that 
 both his lips and tongue touched the two 
 fingers which I had infected. 
 
 " You've dropped a rubber finger-cover, 
 doctor," said a soft voice, and turning, I 
 found the nurse holding it out to me, looking 
 meantime with some interest at my hands to 
 see, I supposed, why I needed such protec- 
 tion. 
 
 " Thank you, nurse," I said ; " I ran a 
 needle into my finger to-day, and I always 
 take great care of my hands." 
 
 " How is Jackie this morning, Dr. 
 d'Escombe ? " inquired the boy's mother, as 
 I followed her downstairs. 
 
 " I don't think that he's quite so well," was 
 my previously thought-out answer. " Although 
 he has not any serious rise of temperature, 
 still there's something I'm not quite satisfied
 
 92 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 about — the kind of intuition which we doctors 
 get, you know." 
 
 " Would you Hke a consultation ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Nonsense, Jane — there's nothing the 
 matter," interrupted the drawling voice of the 
 gallant Captain, who had just entered. " You 
 leave d'Escombe to look after the little chap. 
 He'll be well in a couple of days." 
 
 The lady looked at him, a very straight, 
 almost inquiring look, and I could see by the 
 momentary flash in her eyes and the firmer 
 set of the mouth that she distrusted her rela- 
 tion ; perhaps simply because he was the next 
 heir to little Jackie. 
 
 " You'll tell me at once if there's the 
 slightest danger, won't you. Dr. d'Escombe ? " 
 she said to me, ignoring the Captain's remark 
 altogether. " He is all I've got, and it would 
 break my heart if anything happened to him. 
 I can trust you, can't I ? " 
 
 This kind of interview was none too 
 pleasant, and I was glad to get away and drink 
 a large whisky-and-soda with the prospective 
 Lord of the Manor. 
 
 " How is he really ? " he asked, looking 
 keenly at me. 
 
 " I don't quite know, Chalmers. I shouldn't
 
 I EARN A BIG FEE 93 
 
 55 
 
 wonder if he were sickening for something 
 I replied, with a smile. 
 
 " Gad, you're a cold-blooded devil ! " he 
 blurted out, and then, " I mean all doctors 
 seem to be naturally hard-hearted and unfeel- 
 ing — eh, what ? " 
 
 " Not all, not by a long way ; some are 
 different. I, personally, practise to make 
 money, not for the sake of curing the sufferer, 
 if that's what you mean." 
 
 Next day the boy had a headache, and two 
 days later his temperature jumped up, and 
 when I told his mother she openly deplored 
 the recent death of her regular medical 
 attendant, and practically insisted on a consul- 
 tation with one of the leading physicians in 
 London. 
 
 He came in the evening, but could throw 
 no light on the case ; the rash had not yet 
 appeared. Luckily for me he regarded the 
 illness very lightly ; but when on the following 
 day the typical red rash did come, and he was 
 again sent for from the hotel, he changed his 
 opinion, and diagnosed a virulent attack of 
 scarlet fever. 
 
 " You were right, d'Escombe," the Captain 
 remarked to me later, with a curious look in 
 his eyes.
 
 94 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 He knew well enough that the illness was 
 my doing. 
 
 The child got rapidly worse, and I must 
 confess that when I went in to see him, 
 and that was several times a day, the sight 
 of his httle, red, flushed face, bright, 
 suffused eyes, and pretty, tousled fair hair, 
 made me — even me — feel uncomfortable and 
 anxious to see the finish so that I might get 
 away. 
 
 The most searching inquiries failed to 
 discover the source of his infection ; nobody, 
 of course, thought of me — nobody ever does 
 suspect the doctor, although Mrs. Chalmers 
 did ask me if I had any scarlet fever cases, to 
 which I said " No." 
 
 Despite the most unremitting attention and 
 nursing, the frequent visits of the great man 
 from London, and my constant presence in 
 the house, the boy died on the sixth day ; but 
 it is possible that if I had not kept a close 
 watch, he might have recovered. 
 
 Captain Chalmers inquired constantly and 
 eagerly after the invahd, and as the days went 
 on his manner to me changed ; he became 
 patronizing and arrogant, already seeing himself 
 the possessor of the Manor and its land and 
 income.
 
 I EARN A BIG FEE 95 
 
 Would he pay ? That was my worry. I 
 had no means of making him, and if he chose 
 to back out he could. 
 
 On the day of little Jackie's death the 
 Captain asked me into his room, and said : " I 
 shall be able to lend you the money we 
 mentioned very shortly, but one thing I insist 
 on, and that is that you never enter this 
 house again ; and I should also like to inform 
 you that when I make a new will, your name 
 will not appear, so my death will not advantage 
 you. I thought it would be well to mention 
 it, because it seems to me that you are the 
 sort of man who might act on the chance, and 
 I hope to hve for many years yet." 
 
 For the moment, I felt like letting him have 
 it straight from the shoulder, but it wouldn't 
 do, and so I answered, smiling : 
 
 " You speak in enigmas, Chalmers, but any- 
 thing to suit you ; however, you must not 
 appear any different to me in the town. 
 Then I shall hear from you soon .? " 
 
 "In a day or two," he rephed ; and I left 
 the Manor, never to enter it again except 
 on the occasion of poor little Jackie's 
 funeral. 
 
 The two thousand came in notes with never 
 a word, and very soon Chalmers appeared to
 
 96 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 take an intense dislike to the Manor, and went 
 to live in London, and abroad. 
 
 This windfall put me straight for a time, 
 but, as usual, matters came to a bad pass again, 
 not so very long after.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 IN WHICH MY LOVE-AFFAIR IS EXPLAINED 
 
 A ^7" HEN I first started in practice, old 
 friend, I made up my mind to pose 
 as a ladies' man, and I certainly earned that 
 reputation among my patients. As a matter 
 of fact I have only once ever really made a 
 fool of myself over a woman, and then un- 
 fortunately for her — as she died much earlier 
 in life than appeared to be probable. 
 
 I will tell you about it, although I admit 
 that it is a story of which I am not proud, 
 and which I should have kept to myself if I 
 had not decided to let you, old friend, know 
 everything about my life. 
 
 I have told you how my marriage came 
 about, and possibly you may have noticed in 
 your many visits to my house at Okehampton 
 that my wife and I were not what you call an 
 affectionate couple. As a matter of fact my 
 youthfql infatuation for her wore off within 
 
 97 7
 
 98 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 the first year of our married life, and during 
 the five years which this lasted our relations 
 to each other were cold and frequently 
 strained. She came to look upon me as a 
 hard, calculating man-of-the-world, who had 
 little affection to spare except upon himself, 
 and I think that her very orthodox opinions 
 of right and wrong ultimately made me look 
 upon her as a narrow-minded and distinctly 
 milk-and-water kind of person. Then, at the 
 end of that time, she made a bosom friend of 
 Estelle Martin — a woman slightly older than 
 herself — and with this woman I fell desperately 
 in love. 
 
 You will say after reading these papers : 
 " How ridiculous ! This man who was selfish 
 to the bone ; who stayed his hand at nothing ; 
 who killed without scruple, who robbed with 
 joy, this blackguard d'Escombe to fall in love 
 —bosh ! " 
 
 But it was so. She was a very beautiful 
 woman — stately and calm, with that red-brown 
 hair beloved of the Venetian painters, and the 
 violet eyes and perfect contour of face which 
 vou only find in Ireland. So I lost my head 
 completely. 
 
 At first she hardly noticed me, although she 
 was constantly in my house, but the time
 
 MY LOVE-AFFAIR IS EXPLAINED 99 
 
 at last came, after I had exerted every effort, 
 and played every card I knew, that she under- 
 stood and responded. 
 
 I remember it so well. 
 
 That evening my wife had gone out visiting 
 and was late in returning, and Estelle and I 
 were sitting in the twilight, waiting. I was 
 ablaze with longing for her, controlling myself 
 with difficulty. She was speaking confidentially 
 about her younger days, and then as she 
 talked I put my hand on hers and she did not 
 take it away. It was all done and over in a 
 second ; before I could think I was kissing her 
 madly. I laugh at myself now, but I was in 
 deadly earnest then. " You mustn't — oh ! you 
 really must not," I remember her saying, but 
 she returned my kisses, and ten minutes after I 
 left her crying bitterly, but she put on her hat 
 and coat, and got away before my wife came back. 
 
 We had many stolen meetings afterwards, 
 but she was always blaming herself for her 
 treachery to " Babs " — my wife's name with 
 her intimates — and try as I would, and I think 
 I was fairly persuasive, I could never make 
 her really responsive, or even kiss me again. 
 
 ^' I will not be such a treacherous beast to 
 her," she would say, " much as I love you, 
 But — if only we had met before." 
 
 r
 
 100 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Well, that's enough of my love-story, my 
 friend ; but you can see that I was in that 
 frame of mind which stops at nothing. So at 
 the very first opportunity I could get — it was 
 a post-mortem — I made a virulent culture of 
 some staphylococci, the germs which produce 
 blood-poisoning, and a few days after my wife 
 scratched her hand very badly with an un- 
 suspected pin which lurked in one of her 
 garments, with the result that in about ten 
 days' time she was in bed, attended by a 
 brother practitioner, and being nursed most 
 assiduously by Estelle, who insisted, as she had 
 had some training, on taking the place of a 
 regular nurse. 
 
 " Poor dear little Babs," she said to me one 
 night, as I sat brooding and wondering how 
 things would turn out. " I think she is turn- 
 ing the corner. I am so glad ! " 
 
 "Glad!" I muttered. "Glad! Estelle 
 darling, come, let us abandon everything, and 
 get away together — to America, Australia — 
 where you will. I can't go on like this." 
 
 Like a silly fool I was quite prepared to 
 give up everything — profession, honour, practice, 
 home — if she would only come with me. But 
 she looked at me with a half frightened air. 
 
 " I believe," she said in a low voice, " I
 
 MY LOVE-AFFAIR IS EXPLAINED loi 
 
 really believe you would be glad if Babs didn't 
 get better." 
 
 " And why not ? " I whispered. " I want 
 you, Estelle darling — only you ! " 
 
 She shivered and drew away from me as she 
 answered : " You will make me hate you, if you 
 talk like that. How can you ? " And she 
 went to the sick-room without another word 
 or look. 
 
 Well, I have to tell you now I've begun. 
 My wife had to have three minor operations 
 done for the poisoned arm and then began to 
 improve, but slowly, and at the end of a 
 month's illness she was just a shadow of her- 
 self, fragile to a degree, in just that condition 
 which only required the smallest " fillip " to 
 turn things the wrong way, and — well — it had 
 to be done. 
 
 I wanted Estelle madly, frantically, and while 
 my wife was alive this was impossible, so that 
 night I added enough arsenic to a dose of her 
 medicine to produce a sickness which I felt 
 the invalid would not be likely to stand, and 
 which is a common symptom in such cases as 
 hers. 
 
 I felt a bit uncomfortable as I saw the thin, 
 pallid-faced, golden-huired little woman lying 
 in the bed.
 
 102 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " I think I'm getting better — I'm so sorry 
 I've been such a worry to you, Archie. You'll 
 forgive me, won't you, dear ? " she half 
 whispered. 
 
 " Yes, yes," I muttered, feeling an awful 
 brute for the moment, but Estelle's face came 
 into my mind — curse her — and I decided to 
 carry the thing through. 
 
 " What horrid medicine the doctor has sent 
 me," she continued. " I can still feel it 
 burning." 
 
 " Oh, that will soon pass off," I answered 
 with a laugh. " Don't get faddy about the 
 physic, and now," I added, as I turned to 
 leave her, " I'll get Miss Martin to come up." 
 And another moment saw me out of that 
 room, which had certainly somewhat jarred on 
 my nerves. 
 
 I saw Estelle about two hours later, when 
 she came to tell me that my wife was worse, 
 and was in considerable pain. 
 
 " She complains of the medicine which you 
 gave her," she said, looking at me with an 
 expression on her face which made my heart 
 sink, and then suddenly, her eyes flashing, she 
 blurted forth : " You brute, I beheve you've 
 poisoned her ! " 
 
 Perhaps, Brown, for the one time in my
 
 MY LOVE-AFFAIR IS EXPLAINED 103 
 
 life I was frightened. Mv words came spas- 
 modically and I knew my lips trembled as I 
 answered her. 
 
 " What— ^0^ — you mean, Estelle: dear ! — 
 poisoned ! — now don't talk such nonseme, there's 
 a good Httle girl ! " I replied, but I fear my tone 
 was not convincing. -:'/ 
 
 "As sure as I stand here," "continued the 
 girl, "you shall answer for it if you've done 
 anything wrong to that poor dear upstairs. 
 Oh, I hate you — I hate you, you brute ! " 
 
 Woman, my dear old friend, passeth all the 
 understanding of man. Here was a girl who, a 
 few hours before, was willing enough to admit 
 that I was the only man she had ever loved, 
 ready now to see me in the hands of the law 
 — aye, and to put me there ! 
 
 " I am going back to her," she continued, 
 her face still flushed with emotion, " and I've 
 sent for your friend the doctor." 
 
 My feelings were far from pleasant, for I 
 knew that if a post-mortem were to be held 
 in . the house I should be in a very tight 
 corner. 
 
 " Fool I was not to stick to my hypodermic," 
 I thought to myself. " As it is, I'm afraid 
 that my efforts have been in vain. And, in 
 addition, Estelle becomes a stumbling-block. 
 
 5}
 
 104 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 The imminence of danger acted like a cold- 
 water douche upon my infatuation, to say 
 nothing of the girl's altered attitude. 
 
 The position was a most serious one, and 
 had to be faced promptly. My wife grew 
 rapidly worse during the day ; nothing would 
 stop the sickness, and my good old medical 
 friend shook his head. " This is the last 
 straw, as it were, d'Escombe," he said to me 
 when he came downstairs. " I'm afraid she 
 can't rally." And as he said it I caught a 
 look on Estelle's face which made me finally 
 decide on carrying out an idea which I had 
 had in my mind for the last hour. 
 
 It was quite certain, Laurence, that if my 
 wife died Estelle was dangerous, and her 
 tongue must be silenced. She had slept in 
 my house for several nights and I had 
 noticed that she wore soft felt slippers while 
 on duty upstairs. This fact enabled me to 
 carry out my scheme. I carefully treated two 
 or three flat-headed tacks with a nicotin 
 alkaloid which I had carefully preserved for 
 over twelve months in view of a crisis such as 
 the present, and these tacks I laid carefully 
 between the door of her room and her bed, 
 feeling fairly certain that she would tread 
 upon one of them. The action of this poison
 
 MY LOVE-AFFAIR IS EXPLAINED 105 
 
 is to produce immediate motor paralysis, that 
 is loss of all power of movement or speech — 
 and if given in a sufficient dose, almost 
 immediate death. I did not want this latter 
 possibility to happen, but I hoped to find her 
 in a state of collapse, apparently from over- 
 work, and thus be able to " take her over " as 
 a patient, and keep that troublesome tongue 
 quiet. 
 
 It was a somewhat elaborate plan, but 
 fortunately it succeeded. 
 
 My wife got rapidly worse that evening, and 
 Estelle would not even look at or speak to me, 
 and I felt sure that the morning would bring 
 serious trouble, if matters did not arrange 
 themselves as I wished. However, they did. 
 I was called hurriedly from my room by a 
 maid about midnight, who told me that Miss 
 Estelle had fainted in her bedroom, and I 
 rushed up at once and found her lying on the 
 bed, comatose. 
 
 " Run for the doctor, Janet," I said to the 
 maid, and as soon as she had gone I removed 
 the tell-tale nail, which, sure enough, was in 
 the sole of the slipper worn by the girl with 
 whom a few hours before I thought I was 
 madly in love. She was unconscious — the drug 
 had done its work well, and I was enabled to
 
 io6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 pick up the other poisoned tacks which were 
 on the floor, before assistance arrived. 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " said my colleague ; " what 
 an unfortunate affair. She has evidently 
 over-worked herself. What shall we do, 
 d'Escombe ? " 
 
 " Send for a couple of nurses, doctor," I 
 answered, " and I will take this patient off 
 your hands. She looks very ill, I think." 
 
 " Yes, I'm afraid she is, and with your poor 
 wife so desperately bad too, I'm sorry for 
 you," he replied. 
 
 " We must do the best we can," I said. 
 " But it is unfortunate." 
 
 My wife died that night, and Estelle knew 
 nothing of it. I kept her under the influence 
 of nicotin and hyoscin, given hypodermically 
 in carefully graduated doses for several days, 
 and then allowed her to recover movement 
 and semi-consciousness. But I kept her brain 
 clouded and dazed for a long enough period 
 to prevent her thinking clearly of previous 
 happenings. 
 
 I then arranged with her widowed mother 
 to get her away to the Continent for a long 
 rest and change, feeling certain that when she 
 did return anything she said would be looked 
 upon as the fancy of a mind aflfected by illness.
 
 MY LOVE-AFFAIR IS EXPLAINED 107 
 
 I was quite cured of my infatuation, as you 
 may imagine. 
 
 I didn't see Estelle again for six months, 
 and by then the action of the drugs and the 
 course of time caused us to meet simply as 
 old acquaintances, and this only very seldom. 
 But, by Jove ! it was very much " touch and 
 
 go." 
 
 The shock and consequent illness was, I 
 fear, the real cause of Estelle's death some 
 twelve months later.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 IN WHICH I OBLIGE A LADY 
 
 T EXPECT, my dear Laurence, that since our 
 ■*■ meeting, several years ago, before I came 
 to Kensington, when you went on your sea- 
 voyage, you have wondered at many things 
 connected with me. You shall have your 
 curiosity satisfied. 
 
 You remember, of course, my exodus from 
 Okehampton, after my wife's death. You, 
 among many other friends, followed my poor 
 wife to the grave, but no one, not even you, 
 guessed what a trial her illness was to me. 
 
 From some source, probably papers left by 
 her father, she got an idea that something 
 about his death was suspicious, and after that 
 our married life was unhappy. 
 
 Well, she died, and my brother practitioner 
 who attended her signed the death certificate 
 without the slightest suspicion entering his 
 mind as to any assistance she may have had in 
 
 io8
 
 I OBLIGE A LADY 109 
 
 leaving this unhappy world. Then I migrated 
 to London, having sold the Okehampton 
 practice. 
 
 I bought a partnership in the West End, 
 but I did not agree with my colleague very 
 well, and it became necessary very shortly for 
 one of us to go. 
 
 He went. 
 
 In a most inexplicable manner he contracted 
 an attack of erysipelas, and this, instead of 
 clearing up, as it should have done, became 
 worse and ultimately killed him. 
 
 I had at the time a very severe case of 
 erysipelas among my patients, and I cannot 
 help thinking that he contracted his attack 
 through me. 
 
 It was this way. I had taken some swabs 
 of fluid, alive, of course, with the bacillus of 
 erysipelas, and stupidly forgot to put them 
 away. 
 
 The swabs were left in the surgery with 
 some pins sticking in them, and he, knowing 
 nothing about them, picked up the innocent- 
 looking fragments of cotton-wool containing 
 the poison — and the pins — and threw them 
 away. 
 
 I fear that he pricked his finger badly while 
 so doing, and consequently infected himself.
 
 no THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 And carefully as I tended and dressed him, 
 he died. 
 
 Among my patients was Admiral App- 
 Smith, who lived on Campden Hill, and 
 through him I made a nice little sum and 
 found a staunch friend. If I should die 
 before him (I am still treating him) he oc- 
 casionally will wonder greatly at his sudden 
 recovery from the bad chronic dyspepsia 
 which has troubled him for the past eight 
 years. 
 
 " Confound you, d'Escombe," he would 
 often say, " just as you have cured me, on it 
 comes again. You doctor-fellows aren't much 
 good, after all." 
 
 "That's all very well, Admiral," I would 
 reply. " You are nearly eighty ; be thankful 
 you're alive." 
 
 The Admiral had a daughter, who was 
 married to an utter scamp, well-connected — 
 but a drunkard. In those days, I spent my 
 evenings in the houses of friends who had 
 home ties, and as the App-Smiths' house was 
 close to my residence, I put in many odd 
 hours there. 
 
 One day, the daughter, Mrs. Crosswell, came 
 to Cromwell Road to see me, and I notice4 
 that she looked ilL
 
 I OBLIGE A LADY iii 
 
 She was a very pretty woman, tall and dark, 
 with almost a Spanish cast of countenance. 
 
 " What brings you here to-day, Mrs. Cross- 
 well ? " I asked. 
 
 She sat down wearily. " I hardly know how 
 to begin, Doctor," she replied ; " but look 
 here," and pulling up her sleeve, she showed 
 me on her beautiful, round, white arm, two 
 greenish-black discolorations — evidently bruises. 
 
 I started. " How on earth did you get hurt 
 like that ? " 
 
 " My husband's mark," she said. 
 
 " What ? Mr. Crosswell did that ? By 
 accident." 
 
 " Done by intention, and with his fist. But 
 this is nothing ; see here," and tearing open 
 the lace on her chest, she showed me just 
 below the throat another mark more recent, 
 more severe, and more extensive. 
 
 " He is brutal, and I cannot live with him 
 any longer," she cried. " Not only does he 
 strike me and hurt me in every way, but he 
 suspects me of being untrue to him." 
 
 She sank back in the chair, her white, un- 
 covered chest heaving, and tears starting to 
 flow down her cheeks. 
 
 At this moment I heard an altercation out- 
 side my door, and the next moment in burst
 
 112 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Crosswell himself. His face was flushed, his 
 hat on the back of his head, and his clothes 
 awry and dishevelled. 
 
 " So," he shouted, " she is here, and with 
 the wonderful doctor who is such a friend of 
 her family." 
 
 He swayed as he spoke, and clutched a 
 chair. 
 
 " You infernal blackguard ! Calling yourself 
 a friend under the cloak of pill-mixing ! I'll 
 horse-whip you till you can't stand," he 
 shouted. I made no reply to him, but seeing 
 that the lady could now leave, I said to her : 
 
 " Kindly wait in the hall, Mrs. Crosswell, 
 while I have a word or two with — your 
 husband." 
 
 " She'll do nothing of the kind," he said. 
 " Stay here, Louise." 
 
 I opened the door and showed his wife out. 
 Her husband started to intercept me, but 
 tripped and fell headlong at his first step. 
 
 He picked himself up, however, and made a 
 rush at me. 
 
 You know me, Lawrence ; I am not a child, 
 and when he got near me I just quietly sat 
 him on a sofa with one of the simple little 
 tricks of the wily Jap. 
 
 " Now, sir," I said, " you shall explain
 
 I OBLIGE A LADY 113 
 
 yourself, and a full explanation I shall want, 
 followed by an apology." 
 
 He had evidently drunk a lot already that 
 day, for even now his rage was disappearing 
 and a sleepy, maudlin look was commencing to 
 fill his previously bright eyes. 
 
 " You'll get no explan — explanation from 
 me, or 'pology either, damn you ! " 
 
 " What do you mean by following your wife 
 and forcing your way into my house in the 
 way you've done ? " I demanded. " You're 
 going to be ill, I cjn see, Mr. Crosswell. Sit 
 still a minute until I come back." 
 
 It was very evident to me that he was on 
 the verge of delirium tremens. When I came 
 back he was looking round in a stupid, dazed 
 manner, and he took the draught of bromide 
 I gave him without a word. I sent for a 
 taxi, and we all got in and drove to their 
 house. 
 
 During the journey I noticed that he was 
 breaking out into that profuse sweat which 
 is common to all alcoholic cases, but the dose 
 I had given him was keeping him quiet. 
 
 Having reached our destination, I said to 
 his still tearful wife, " I am going to see him 
 in bed myself, and then we must send for a 
 nurse ; he's in for a bad time." 
 
 8
 
 114 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Will he talk much before the nurse ? " she 
 inquired. 
 
 " Don't trouble about that," I answered ; 
 " I will see to it that we have a discreet 
 woman." 
 
 Her husband had by now gone to his room, 
 and when I went up to him he was lying on 
 the bed. 
 
 " What do you want here, you hound ? " 
 he growled. " Wait till I'm better. I'll show 
 you up, and her too." 
 
 " You get up and I'll help you undress," I 
 rephed, but, calm as I appeared, his remarks 
 bothered me. One word against a doctor's 
 reputation and it is damned. 
 
 " You're not going to doctor me, don't you 
 think it," growled the sick man. " I'll send 
 for Lanner-Brown." He referred to you ! 
 
 " All right, get to bed and we'll see," I 
 answered, and he allowed me to help him — 
 showing, of course, how unbalanced his mind 
 was. 
 
 I went home, had a cigar and a large cocaine 
 and soda — a strange drink, you say, old man, 
 but as you very well know, a wonderful help 
 at times, if you're used to it. 
 
 I had thought, and I decided. This man 
 must not be allowed to cause trouble, and yet it
 
 I OBLIGE A LADY 115 
 
 would not be wisdom on my part to let him 
 take a sudden and suspicious turn for the worse. 
 
 I gave him morphia that night. 
 
 When I visited him he was sitting up 
 in bed, flushed, sweating, and laughing 
 immoderately. 
 
 In the morning I had a long conversation 
 with the Admiral, and took the opportunity of 
 giving him a little arsenic in his whisky and soda. 
 
 I told him all the circumstances, and he 
 was shocked. 
 
 " What on earth can we do, d'Escombe ? " 
 he said. " I'm sure he'll do what he says. 
 Poor, poor Louise ! " 
 
 " I don't know ; I'm afraid I'm a ruined 
 man," I replied ; " but I would give anything 
 to save her." 
 
 After seeing my patient, I sat down in Mrs. 
 Crosswell's cosy little room and had a long 
 talk. At the end of this conversation she 
 made the remark : 
 
 " Well, Dr. d'Escombe, if that arrangement 
 is carried out, I shall thank you and bless 
 you all my days." 
 
 The case went on through the usual course 
 of such attacks, but as the man rallied, a 
 curious change seemed to take place in his 
 character and general demeanour. 
 
 8*
 
 ii6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 He became almost childish — and his memory 
 was not as good as it should be. 
 
 On the sixth night after his attack I paid 
 my evening visit early. The nurse was asleep 
 and Mrs. Crosswell was in charge. If you had 
 watched me closely that evening you would 
 have noticed a little hypodermic syringe in 
 my left hand as I went to examine my 
 patient. 
 
 He was half asleep, and as I felt his pulse 
 I sent his wife into the next room for some 
 small thing. While she was away the point 
 of the syringe found its way into the arm 
 of the semi-conscious man, and the syringe 
 was emptied. He started up in bed, and his 
 wife hurried back on hearing him shout. 
 
 "What is the matter?" she breathlessly 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " It's nothing, my dear lady," I said calmly, 
 although my heart was beating fast — too fast 
 — and a sudden fear seemed to clutch it ; if 
 this woman found out, and told all she knew, 
 there was risk — serious risk. 
 
 " He's stuck something into me. What is 
 it — oh, what has he done f " moaned the 
 invalid. 
 
 " Have you done anything, Dr. d'Escombe ? " 
 
 *' Simply ordinary treatment, my dear lady.
 
 I OBLIGE A LADY 117 
 
 Don't take any notice of his roarings, " I said, 
 unconcernedly. 
 
 That night Mr. Crosswell had an attack 
 which resembled apoplexy at first, but which, 
 later, developed into maniacal raving. I 
 treated him in consultation with you, and he 
 ultimately recovered. 
 
 The one sad result of the illness was total 
 loss of memory. 
 
 Probably, my dear fellow, you have not 
 that intimate knowledge of poisonous alkaloids 
 that I have, and even now I have no doubt 
 that you did not understand the way I 
 managed it. 
 
 I had steadily during his illness given him 
 small doses of hyoscyamine, one of the alkaloids 
 of henbane, and on that last night I mention I 
 gave him a big dose, and this drug, you may 
 not know, if carefully administered, will cause 
 insensibility, afterwards mania, and then, on 
 recovery of bodily health, very frequently 
 complete loss of memory. 
 
 The value of drugs is beyond description. 
 Even you, most worthy friend, had at one 
 time in my house enough cocaine in your 
 coffee to enable me to win five pounds off 
 you at bridge. 
 
 Perhaps you remember that night you got
 
 ii8 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 so excited. Hurrah for drugs, and bravo for 
 the man who has the knowledge and pluck 
 to use them ! 
 
 The Crosswells live in Maida Vale now; he 
 is very harmless, and his wife is very sad 
 about him. 
 
 My agreement with her, of which I spoke, 
 was to, if necessary, get him put under 
 control, if he continued his statements. 
 
 I only did this to blind her as to my 
 methods and to obtain the large cheque which 
 was promised me both by father and daughter 
 if I could save her from her husband. 
 
 They little knew the means adopted by me, 
 not to save her, but to escape myself from 
 the tongue of that drunken brute.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IN WHICH A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 
 
 T DID think that when, leaving a balance of 
 ^ a few hundreds in the hands of my long- 
 suffering bank-manager, I went for a tour in 
 the Royal Mail boat Dorsetshire to China 
 and Japan I should be free of matters medical, 
 and also clear of financial difficulties necessi- 
 tating risky coups. But no. " Adventures to 
 the adventurous." 
 
 Indeed, when I arrived home I had paid 
 my somewhat extravagant expenses and was an 
 extra fifteen hundred in hand. 
 
 I was very happy on board for the first six 
 weeks. The ship, although not large, was 
 comfortable, the majority of the officers were 
 good fellows, and passengers were few. 
 Nothing is so delightful to the busy man, if 
 he is a decent sailor and not in search of 
 constant and varied excitement, as a long sea 
 voyage. The absence of the postman is, 
 
 119
 
 120 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 perhaps, the most delightful point of all — no 
 daily worries, nothing to answer, no bills to 
 make you shudder and rush to the tantalus. 
 If you are also a keen chess and card 
 player, then the life, for a few months, 
 is ideal. 
 
 The skipper of the Dorsetshire was a 
 most able man, but an amusing study. He 
 was obsessed with the idea that he was a 
 lady-killer of the most accomplished type, and 
 I beheve he really considered himself hand- 
 some, but he held a " lone hand " in that 
 belief. I mention this because, later on, this 
 curious, almost ludicrous, fancy of his was of 
 great value to me — and another. 
 
 As the voyage progressed and we got into 
 warmer climes, our passenger-list increased, 
 and before Shanghai, outward bound, the 
 first-class saloon was nearly full. 
 
 The ship's doctor was an Irishman named 
 Currie ; tall and thin, with a deHghtful 
 brogue, a maximum of assurance and a mini- 
 mum of professional ability. What small 
 amount of medical knowledge he originally 
 possessed had been gradually dissipated into 
 thin sea-air or dissolved in whisky-and-soda, 
 and it was with great joy that he informed 
 me at this latter port that another profes-
 
 A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 121 
 
 sional brother was coming aboard, with his 
 wife. 
 
 " Sure, and we'll be a happy family now," 
 said he. " And I'll be relying on the two of 
 ye to help me." 
 
 The new arrival was a good-featured, clean- 
 shaven man who, however, showed traces of 
 dissipation in his loose-lipped mouth and fluid 
 bright eyes, and this conjecture of mine was 
 soon confirmed when I saw him drink a 
 tumbler of champagne, which he was com- 
 pelled to hold with both hands, before break- 
 fast on the first morning after we left port. 
 
 His wife was a brilliant little woman with 
 very golden hair and a shm, yet almost 
 perfect figure, which was shown to the best 
 advantage in the thin China silk frocks worn so 
 much in the tropics. In a day or two Dr. 
 and Mrs. Toillet were a most popular couple 
 among the company on board. 
 
 The majority of the other ladies adopted 
 the role of being somewhat strait-laced. This 
 was undoubtedly because they were afraid of 
 each other, for gossip in the Far East travels 
 very fast, and before long they appeared to be 
 of one opinion about Mrs. Toillet and gave 
 her, to a certain degree, the cold shoulder. 
 This drove her to the smoking-room — she was
 
 122 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 an inveterate smoker — and the company of 
 men, of whom the chief officer — a lengthy and 
 cadaverous individual called Verte — and myself 
 were the most favoured. 
 
 It was not long before she confided to me 
 the trouble about her husband — he drank too 
 much, and he took morphia, the result being 
 that half his time was spent in the smoking 
 and card rooms, and the other half in a state 
 of semi-stupefaction in his cabin. 
 
 I was out for a holiday, however. I cer- 
 tainly didn't want to be bothered with women, 
 and I am afraid I turned a deaf ear to her 
 pretty sayings, and refused to enter into any 
 flirtation. 
 
 " I believe you are made of wood, Dr. 
 d'Escombe," she said one day to me. " Will 
 nothing move you ? Are you quite emotion- 
 less ? " 
 
 " No, my dear child," I said, smiling at 
 her, " but everything of that kind in the East 
 is too easy and simple — and it's far too hot." 
 
 " Then I'm not going to waste my time on 
 you," she laughed. " I'm going to conquer 
 that dear, ugly captain — or else his immaculate 
 chief." 
 
 " Both much too easy," I answered. " But 
 count on me to help you."
 
 A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 123 
 
 On the following day Dr. Currie came to 
 me. I was playing chess on deck. 
 
 " Can you spare me a minute in my cabin, 
 Docther ? " he inquired. And when I got 
 there he told me that Toillet was very bad ; 
 he feared delirium tremens. Would I see him 
 in consultation ? 
 
 Toillet was certainly rather ill ; twisting and 
 turning in his bunk, with bright expressionless 
 eyes and busy fingers and a face flushed and 
 unshared. 
 
 " Jolly glad to see you, d'Er — d'Er — what is 
 it ? " he said. " Have a drink ; ring for the 
 steward." 
 
 " Too hot, old man ; wait a bit," I said 
 quietly. " You're not looking quite fit." 
 
 " Fit ! " he shouted, starting up. " Fit ! 
 How can I be fit with that she-devil about ? 
 Where is she now ? " He looked vacantly round 
 the cabin. " Mamie, you little devil, where 
 are you ? " he continued in a loud voice. And 
 then, whispering confidentially : " She's always 
 spying about somewhere — perhaps she's under 
 the bunk ? " 
 
 "No, no; she's on deck," answered Currie. 
 " I'll go and bring her back in a minute," 
 turning to me. 
 
 As he left the sick man leaned over to me.
 
 124 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Come here, close, Doctor, I want to tell 
 you something." He looked quite sensible for 
 a moment. " Sister Mamie and I aren't — 
 well, you understand ? — but it's a secret — only 
 you know." And then suddenly he shouted : 
 " Je-rusalem ! see those green beetles on the 
 wall. Get me some morphia, quick, man — 
 they're after me ! " And he started into the 
 incoherent rambling of alcoholism. 
 
 I wondered if his statement were true — and 
 for the first time the idea of making something 
 out of the trip occurred to me. Toillet was 
 evidently a sick man — his possessions and ex- 
 penditure showed money, and I promptly 
 decided to cultivate his wife more carefully. 
 
 Currie returned alone. " She is sitting on 
 the boat-deck with the ' Old Man,' " he 
 reported, " who's making very hot running, 
 and the Chief on the bridge is lookin' mighty 
 sick." 
 
 We decided to give our patient a dose of 
 morphia to get him some sleep if possible, 
 and then we had a chat about him in the 
 dispensary. 
 
 " They haven't been on board long," he 
 said, " but there's only one bottle of brandy 
 left. The chief steward's holdin' that up for 
 * medical comforts. ' "
 
 A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 125 
 
 Why do you say they .^ " I queried. 
 They're both tarred with the same brush," 
 said he, " only she can ' carry on ' and he 
 
 
 can't." 
 
 I had something to think about that evening. 
 It still seemed plain to me that there was the 
 strong possibility of money-making in this 
 situation. He rich, she evidently unscrupulous 
 and, I imagined, innately vicious ; moreover 
 the two of them possessed a weakness which 
 can nearly always be turned to account by 
 the wise man. Truly said the ancient : " In 
 
 vino Veritas." 
 
 I managed to get a tete-a-tete with Mrs. 
 Toillet after dinner, and told her that 
 I had been to see her husband in consul- 
 tation. 
 
 "We didn't like to interrupt you, seeing 
 that you were so occupied on the boat-deck," 
 I said. 
 
 " What nonsense ! " she laughed. " I was 
 only amusing myself with that conceited old 
 idiot, and because I wanted to make the old 
 ' cats ' on board jealous ; they all hate me, you 
 know." She laughed as she turned and looked 
 me straight in the face with an expression I 
 know very well and which means much to the 
 man of the world.
 
 126 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Let's go down to my cabin and have 
 something with ice," I suggested promptly. 
 
 " Rather ! " said she. And before long we 
 were chatting most confidentially, and I had 
 been told the history of her husband's weak- 
 nesses. I did not tell her what I knew ; I 
 thought it would possibly be of use later on ; 
 but two days after — acquaintances develop 
 very rapidly in the tropics on board ship — I 
 had the whole story from her. 
 
 " I am sick and tired of him," she confided, 
 " and if I were only certain about his money 
 I shouldn't care a hang how much he drank, 
 or how many doses of morphia he had. He 
 is always jealous," she continued, " and he 
 only wants me just to feel that I am his 
 property and must stay near him while he is 
 maudlin and half helpless." 
 
 " I am very sorry for you, poor child," I 
 told her. " I wish I could help you." 
 
 " So you can," she answered, sitting up 
 close to me on my settee. " You're a doctor ; 
 you can do anything. I'd make it worth your 
 while." And suddenly she leant over and 
 kissed me. " Now you will help me, won't 
 you ? I'm so sick of it all," she added with a 
 wicked little smile. 
 
 " You run away and let me think matters
 
 A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 127 
 
 over," I said, and in a half joking way 
 pushed her out of my cabin. Women are 
 very difficult in those parts of the world, 
 Laurence. You've been East, and you 
 know. 
 
 I did think things over, and a difficult 
 problem I had to face. It was not so hard 
 to dispose of Toillet — I had an idea for that — 
 but I had to make sure of my money from 
 her if I did so. 
 
 " You must keep clear of me," I told her 
 the next time I had an opportunity. " Make 
 up to the Old Man. He's ready enough. 
 Don't give folks aboard any opening to couple 
 our names together. I hate to tell you so," 
 I ' dd ^d mendaciously, knowing how easily her 
 ciinour propre might be offended. " But I 
 have a plan " 
 
 " Dear old chap, I thought you were the 
 one to help me," she answered. " But you 
 must explain to me." 
 
 " All right, walk with me on deck before 
 dinner to-night," I suggested. " There's safety 
 in a crowd." 
 
 We walked, and she told me point-blank 
 that if her reputed husband died she would 
 get twenty thousand pounds, as he had made 
 a will in her favour about eighteen months
 
 128 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 before, at which time his mental balance could 
 not be questioned. 
 
 We talked around the subject for half an 
 hour, and then she suddenly said : " Well, 
 Doc, I'm going to dress." And as she turned 
 to go, whispered : " Two thousand for you, 
 if you manage it." 
 
 " Yes," I thought, " but should I get it ? " 
 However, there was no certain way of making 
 quite sure, and I decided to trust my luck. 
 
 Dr. Toillet was, in the meantime, picking 
 up somewhat, but as he got better of the 
 alcoholic poisoning so the depression which it 
 left caused him to increase his doses of 
 morphia, and on two occasions I found him 
 in a heavy stertorous sleep when I dropped 
 into his cabin to look at him. 
 
 Dr. Currie was very pleased to have any 
 work taken off his hands, and consequently I 
 had no difficulty in another two days' time in 
 giving the invalid a hypodermic injection of 
 apomorphine and a preparation of calabar-bean 
 mixed together. I might have done this 
 earlier, but I waited until the wind had 
 freshened up somewhat — enough to give us a 
 bit of a lop, anyway. You ask why, Laurence ? 
 
 For this reason. I had decided that Dr. 
 Toillet should die of sea-sickness, induced, of
 
 A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 129 
 
 course, by his previous illness, as in health he 
 was a good sailor, and the injection I gave 
 was certain to cause obstinate vomiting, and 
 would also seriously affect his heart. But it 
 all had to appear very natural; life on ship- 
 board being so narrow and confined that every 
 soul knows practically every detail of the life 
 and doings of everybody else. 
 
 My arrangement worked well, however, and 
 that evening as we steamed merrily along with 
 a fresh breeze on our starboard quarter, 
 Currie came to me, and said : 
 
 " Toillet's ver-ry bad. This weather's made 
 him sick — mortal sick." 
 
 " That's serious," I answered. " Where's 
 his wife ? " 
 
 " Oh, she's down, lookin' afther him," 
 answered the well-meaning old chap. " She's 
 a real good one after all, if it's a bona fide 
 illness." 
 
 " So she is," I said. " Let's go and see 
 her." 
 
 The patient looked bad, very bad indeed. 
 His face had become dusky and drawn, and he 
 was constantly sick ; I hardly thought the one 
 dose would have had such an effect. 
 
 Mrs. Toillet looked at me — just one glance, 
 but sufficient. She guessed, and she gave a 
 
 9
 
 130 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 tiny, almost imperceptible nod, as though to 
 say : " All right, the two thousand holds 
 good." 
 
 She nursed the patient assiduously for the 
 next couple of days, and I had to seize the 
 opportunity of a boat and fire-station drill, 
 which I sent her up to watch and which took 
 away all stewards and undesirables from the 
 cabins and alleyways, to give another injection. 
 
 " This should be sufficient," I told myself 
 as I threw the light cover over the collapsed 
 patient. I wondered if I should get the 
 money after all. I had a strong idea in my 
 mind that I should. 
 
 She appeared on deck late that night, and, 
 finding me alone, came to my side, and said : 
 " I suppose I have to thank you for this ? " 
 
 " Very possibly," I answered. And then 
 suddenly I added : " Do you think that, as a 
 friend, you could lend me a couple of hundred 
 pounds in a day or two ? I have a great 
 necessity for it just now." 
 
 " I'll write you a cheque for a hundred and 
 fifty to-night. Doctor, if you want it," was 
 her answer. And then in a whisper ; " How 
 long ? " 
 
 " I hope to see a change in about thirty-six 
 hours," I replied.
 
 A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 131 
 
 a 
 
 You're a real good pal," was her rejoinder. 
 " I thought I knew a real man when I saw 
 him." 
 
 " A very pretty eye for a blackguard," I 
 thought to myself. " You're a clever woman." 
 
 I got my cheque in an envelope half an 
 hour later, with a pohte Httle note thanking 
 me for my kindness to her husband and her- 
 self. And three hours after I received it 
 Currie came to my cabin and waked me out 
 of a sleep on my settee. 
 
 " I think Toillet's finished," he said some- 
 what excitedly. " Poor-r devil — he's done for-r 
 himself. Will you come and see him ? " 
 
 I went, and, sure enough, Toillet was at his 
 last gasp ; the cold sweat of death was 
 upon his face, which had become blue and 
 pinched. 
 
 " It's all over, Currie," I whispered. " Keep 
 quiet." And I pointed to the figure of the 
 almost-widow as she sat half huddled up on a 
 chair, apparently crying bitterly. She was a 
 magnificent actress, Brown. I defy any man 
 to say she wasn't overcome with grief at that 
 moment. 
 
 " The sickness stopped about two hours 
 ago," Currie told me. " But his heart was so 
 shaky that he couldn't rally. D'ye know he 
 
 9*
 
 132 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 took morphia ? " he asked in an undertone. 
 "That finished him." 
 
 "No, I knew nothing," said I. "I only 
 feel that a good chap has gone." 
 
 We buried him the day before we arrived at 
 Nagasaki, and his widow — who obtained a 
 perfect rig-out of mourning from a Chinese 
 tailor — seemed overcome with grief but said 
 she must go home with us. 
 
 And so we carried her the round trip, 
 always a poor pathetic little figure, inviting the 
 sympathy of everybody, and only getting her 
 few moments of recreation in my cabin. She 
 looked forward to her brandy-and-soda there 
 as the only saving clause in her life. 
 
 To cut it all short, we got home : she proved 
 his will. It was made out to her in her 
 maiden name, and his relations at first were 
 inclined to contest it. But they gave up the 
 idea. The evidence was too strong against 
 them, and they could not stultify his name. 
 anyway. 
 
 I got my money, but I had to make three 
 or four journeys to see the lady, and talk 
 pretty straight to her before I really did put 
 it in my pocket. And all the time I knew it 
 was just a toss-up whether I gained or not. 
 
 However, I was very pleased ultimately, that
 
 A RISKY COUP IS DESCRIBED 133 
 
 I had honoured the Dorsetshire with my com- 
 pany, and I often wonder when next I shall 
 meet the widow, and what devil's game she 
 has been up to in the meantime. 
 
 She was one of those women who could not 
 help but get into mischief and what the world 
 calls wickedness.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 IN WHICH A PROBLEM IS PRESENTED 
 
 \ "I THEN Dr. Richard Elleston was defeated 
 ' * by me in our candidature for the post 
 of Honorary Physician to the newly-erected 
 Cottage Hospital at Newbridge, where I 
 practised for a Httle time after Okehampton 
 and on my return from the East, a great 
 amount of sympathy was shown by his 
 numerous friends and admirers, and all the 
 gossips of the neighbourhood had a most 
 valuable topic of conversation for some weeks. 
 But it remains for you, my dear friend, to 
 let the light in upon the secret history of the 
 election. 
 
 He had been established in practice on the 
 spot for several years. I was a comparatively 
 new comer. He had, as patients, nearly all 
 the influential residents. I had the poorer 
 people and — his enemies. As you know well, 
 every medical man in general practice is 
 
 134
 
 A PROBLEM IS PRESENTED 135 
 
 certain to make plenty of the latter. We were, 
 of course, working in opposition, but I adopted 
 the friendly attitude towards him, whereas he, 
 whenever the opportunity occurred, did his 
 best to depreciate my abilities and position. 
 He was in reality very jealous of me, and, 
 though I say it, he had reason to be. 
 
 Now, this post to the new hospital meant 
 a great deal to the man who got it, and I 
 made up my mind that the man should be 
 myself. But how was it to be managed ? It 
 could only be done by undermining his 
 position among the governors who had the 
 power of election and who were all, with two 
 exceptions, in his favour. Not that I was 
 unpopular, but he was the older man, the 
 more experienced practitioner, and the private 
 medical attendant to all but the two I 
 mention of the powers in existence 
 
 The Chairman was a retired Army ofHcer, 
 a red-faced, loud-voiced, dogmatic and 
 bumptious colonel, but withal a man who 
 meant well, and who stood by his friends. It 
 was through this man that I decided to act. 
 He had married a second time, and had one 
 child — a boy of ten — by the second wife, of 
 whom he was inordinately proud, but who 
 was by no means a nice youth — not one of
 
 136 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 the decent, manly, don't-care-a-bit sort of boys, 
 but a weedy, red-haired striphng, who was 
 cordially dishked by everyone with whom he 
 came in contact. 
 
 I was quite friendly with Colonel Mather- 
 son. Indeed I frequently dropped into his 
 bungalow after dinner for a game of picquet 
 a cigar and a whisky-and-soda, and it was on 
 the occasion of one of these evening visits 
 that I learnt the fact that " Octavius the 
 beloved " was sick and that Dr. Elleston had 
 been called in. 
 
 The idea came to me in a second. Here 
 was my opportunity to discredit my opponent. 
 It was very evident that if I could turn the 
 Chairman of the Governors into a supporter 
 of myself, instead of the champion of Dr. 
 Elleston, I should have a very strong sporting 
 chance of grabbing the appointment. 
 
 I called next day on some pretext and 
 inquired after the young cub Octavius, and 
 was told that he was somewhat better, but 
 that the doctor had put him on very light 
 diet as he considered that he habitually ate 
 too many sweets. I could see a substratum 
 of annoyance in Mrs. Matherson ; her dear 
 Octavius could never do anything wrong. " Eat 
 too much — nonsense— nonsense," she declared.
 
 A PROBLEM IS PRESENTED 137 
 
 " Poor little chap," I said very sympatheti- 
 cally, " Fm so sorry for him. Can I go and 
 cheer him up a little ? " 
 
 " Please do. Dr. d'Escombe," said the lady 
 with a grateful look. " He will be so glad to 
 see you." 
 
 I saw him — nasty little youngster ! — but I 
 made myself very pleasant, and got a reward 
 for my forbearance that evening when Colonel 
 Matherson thanked me for my kindness. 
 
 " What do you think of him ? " he asked 
 me. 
 
 I was very diplomatic, my dear Brown, I 
 can assure you. I had a rather difficult game 
 to play. 
 
 " He doesn't seem to me to be ill," I said 
 with a somewhat nervous air. " But it is 
 never wise to take things too lightly." 
 
 " Just what I said, the very words ! " 
 assented the Colonel, evidently very pleased. 
 " I told Dr. Elleston that he is a delicate 
 and highly-strung boy and difficult to under- 
 stand." 
 
 Highly strung ! Oh, the value of those two 
 words to us of the medical profession — eh ? 
 They will get us out of almost any difficulty 
 if we manipulate them properly ! 
 
 " I doubt if Dr. Elleston really understands
 
 138 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 children such as Octavius," he continued, 
 " ahhough he is a good man, a very good 
 man. But somehow, as my wife says, he lacks 
 sympathy." 
 
 So he did. Brown, for some cases ; he was 
 a bit too straightforward for really successful 
 general practice. 
 
 " Yes," interrupted the Colonel's wife as 
 she suddenly re-entered the room, " he told 
 me that a dose of castor oil and three days 
 starvation would do the boy all the good in 
 the world." 
 
 " Oh, dear, dear ! " said the anxious father. 
 " Starve the poor child ! What do you think, 
 d'Escombe ? " — turning to me. 
 
 " Oh, I mustn't interfere, you know," I 
 replied gravely. " But you must not let him 
 get too low. I'm hoping to see him all right 
 in a day or two." As a matter of fact Master 
 Octavius was in for an attack of typhoid fever 
 with which I proposed to infect him within 
 the next two or three days. 
 
 The point was this. Typhoid takes a very 
 long time to develop, as perhaps you know ; 
 you may be infected for three weeks or a 
 month — walking about, playing games, doing 
 your work, and simply feeling tired and limp 
 all the time — but in the end the acute stage
 
 A PROBLEM IS PRESENTED 139 
 
 of the fever supervenes and the patient 
 becomes really ill. 
 
 I luckily had at this time a patient who 
 was suffering from typhoid — just an isolated 
 case — and on the following day I obtained the 
 necessary infective matter from his house — 
 how, it matters not — and on the following 
 day called to see Octavius and gave him a few 
 sweets, knowing that as they were forbidden 
 him he would hold his tongue, and most 
 certainly eat them. 
 
 And now came the question of diplomacy. 
 I had to get my fish to rise to my fly. 
 
 The Colonel was always pleased to see me 
 for a smoke and drink after dinner, and within 
 the week Dr. Elleston and myself were sitting 
 together listening to the yarns of the old 
 soldier. 
 
 " You are quite happy about the boy. 
 Doctor ? " he asked my professional brother. 
 
 " Oh, quite," answered Elleston in his bluff 
 way ; " he's all right ; just the digestive upset of 
 a boy who doesn't know when he's had enough 
 to eat." 
 
 " Well, I thought he looked a httle bit 
 seedy," I remarked in a deprecating way. 
 " But still, boys will be boys." 
 
 " Yes, of course," laughed " the Opposi-
 
 140 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 tion." " I'll wager my reputation he's all right 
 in a few days." 
 
 " I hope you're right," said I with a side 
 glance at the Colonel, who, I could see, 
 noticed that we were not quite in agreement. 
 And we proceeded to talk of other matters. 
 But later, when Elleston had gone, my host 
 said to me : 
 
 " I believe you're a bit doubtful about 
 ' Tavy,' aren't you, d'Escombe ? " 
 
 " To tell you truth, Colonel, I am just a 
 shade," I answered. " But there, it's not my 
 business ; only I can't help thinking that one 
 cannot be too cautious in such a case. He's 
 rather a delicate little chap, and, personally, I 
 should not yet give a definite opinion." 
 
 "You're a good chap, d'Escombe," was the 
 answer. " I tell you frankly I wish you were 
 looking after him for me, but I can't give 
 Elleston up — although I believe he's a bit out 
 of date." 
 
 And so it went on for a week or two ; the 
 boy to my eye evidently sickening for typhoid, 
 but to that of Elleston he appeared simply 
 lazy, spoiled and lackadaisical. 
 
 The Colonel worried as days passed, and 
 one night Elleston, having been badgered a 
 good deal, said : " I'll bet my reputation, and
 
 A PROBLEM IS PRESENTED 141 
 
 anything else you like, that the child is well 
 in a week." 
 
 He looked at me, with no friendly glance, 
 and I took his challenge. 
 
 " I can't help thinking you're wrong," I 
 replied, having waited for this opportunity ; 
 " but, of course, I can't say much ; I haven't 
 examined him. I only go by his appearance." 
 
 " Yes, and that's a darned poor one," inter- 
 rupted the boy's father. " What about a con- 
 sultation, Elleston ? " 
 
 At this the senior practitioner of the district 
 flared up. 
 
 " Oh, if you're not satisfied. Colonel, do as 
 you like ; it's quite immaterial to me. Perhaps 
 d'Escombe would like to take the case 
 over." 
 
 This was war to the knife. 
 
 " Not at all," I said very quietly ; " there 
 is no reason to be offended. Dr. Elleston. 
 The Colonel is naturally very anxious." 
 
 " Anxious ! " the other almost shouted. 
 " Anxious ! over an overfed youngster whose 
 digestion and stomach have been upset by 
 improper feeding ! There's nothing to be 
 anxious about." 
 
 " Don't get out of temper about it, my 
 dear chap," said the Colonel apologetically.
 
 142 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 "You know I've trusted you all these years. 
 But with only the one boy I get ' nervy.' " 
 
 "And rightly so, sir," I chimed in, seeing 
 that a little filHp was necessary. " And 
 although I am sorry that Dr. Elleston should 
 have taken what I've said in the spirit he has, 
 yet I still say I am not quite happy about 
 the boy." 
 
 This was enough. The old family doctor, 
 with a savage look at me, said he was going ; 
 and the Colonel accompanied him to the door. 
 Before I left I distinctly heard him say that if 
 anything went wrong it would be a bad day 
 for Elleston. 
 
 Days went on, the boy looked whiter and 
 more tired, and certainly his medical attendant 
 would have sounded a note of alarm earlier 
 except for the fact that he would have to 
 acknowledge his mistake, and my perspicuity, 
 until at last the boy's temperature told its 
 tale. 
 
 Then there was trouble. A consulting 
 physician was sent for, but before that the 
 Colonel asked me my private opinion and I 
 told him I feared typhoid. He mentioned 
 this to Elleston, who pooh-poohed the idea, 
 until the new adviser said definitely that it 
 was so.
 
 A PROBLEM IS PRESENTED X43 
 
 The day following the consultation saw me 
 installed as the family doctor, Elleston having 
 been summarily dismissed after a great row 
 with the Colonel. 
 
 He came to my place the same night, and 
 asked me why I had suspected typhoid. Had 
 I had any cases at the time ? 
 
 " It's very curious to me," he continued. 
 " Why, where has the infection come from ? 
 The boy has not been out for over a month ; 
 that means that he has probably become 
 infected since he's been laid up. I don't 
 understand it, d'Escombe," he said very 
 severely. " I suppose this will mean that you 
 will get the new appointment — but be careful," 
 he added banefully ; " I tell you I don't 
 understand it." 
 
 I laughed lightly at his words, but all the 
 time felt a little nervous. If the boy should 
 let out the fact that I gave him the sweets 
 some weeks before, it might look awkward. 
 Elleston was suspicious. 
 
 I thought a lot that night, and decided that 
 no more risk must be run. You will not be 
 surprised, therefore, to hear that my special 
 hypodermic was loaded in my pocket on my 
 next visit to the wretched Octavius, and had 
 you had the opportunity of watching me you
 
 144 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 would have seen that the charge in the syringe 
 was labelled "■ Muscarin." 
 
 I sent the nurse on a short errand to 
 another part of the house when I went upstairs 
 to my young patient, who was almost uncon- 
 scious, being in the very acute stage of the 
 fever. 
 
 And within tvv'elve hours he died somewhat 
 suddenly of heart failure. 
 
 This was absolutely the death-blow to Dr. 
 Elleston's hopes for the new appointment, 
 as Colonel Matherson, quietly primed and 
 prompted in a diplomatic manner by me, 
 swore that his old medical attendant shouldn't 
 have a look in — and he didn't. 
 
 I got the post comfortably, and I really 
 don't think the world lost anything by the 
 " dropping out " of Octavius.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 IN WHICH I ATTEND AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT 
 
 T AM writing to-night about an hour after 
 -■- saying good-bye to you, O most worthy 
 friend 1 
 
 Do you remember what a long time you 
 spent in discussing the Camden Town mystery 
 on one particular day ? 
 
 This room of mine certainly has many 
 curious things hidden in it. Many a tale 
 would some of them tell, if they could speak. 
 You noticed some empty cultivation-tubes 
 this evening, and asked me why I kept 
 them. 
 
 I am now going to write the true history of 
 those tubes this evening. 
 
 It was before you came to Kensington that 
 these happenings took place. Quite close to 
 my house hved an old fellow named Humphrey 
 Friende. He dwelt in his own house, was 
 unmarried, and was attended by a man-servant 
 
 145 10
 
 146 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 whom he called Jacques. There were two 
 maid-servants also ; for my friend was very 
 well off, and his house was excellently fur- 
 nished and managed. He was a very can- 
 tankerous old man, who had quarrelled with 
 all his relations. But he had a few friends, of 
 whom perhaps I was the greatest. 
 
 We had one strong link between us, a 
 mutual love for chess-playing. Two evenings 
 in every week were religiously kept free by 
 both of us, but the games were always played 
 at his house ; he refused to go out of doors 
 after sunset. 
 
 We ultimately became very great friends, 
 and he gave me to understand that I should 
 benefit considerably by his will, and I knew 
 that he would " cut up " well. 
 
 Little did he know that his skill and en- 
 thusiasm for the game was keeping him from 
 terrors of which no ordinary person has ever 
 dreamt. It is, doubtless, a good thing for many 
 people that toxicologists like myself are rare, and 
 that the science and art of poisoning is an almost 
 unknown cult. 
 
 I fancy that I won a few more games than 
 my opponent in the long run, but he was a 
 very strong player. 
 
 I well remember our last evening's chess,
 
 AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT 147 
 
 and I have never ceased to regret, although I 
 was a thousand pounds richer for it, the 
 untimely death of Mr. Humphrey Friende. 
 
 It could not be helped, as you will see. 
 
 I was tired that night, and I went across to 
 my friend's house in Addison Road, hoping to 
 forget my weariness and worries by having a 
 good fight over the chess-board. 
 
 The door was opened by Jacques. This 
 man was a very singular character. He looked 
 about eighty years old, but was as active and 
 strong as a man of forty. He had been the 
 confidential servant of Mr. Friende since they 
 were both young men. 
 
 " Good-evening, doctor," he said ; " my 
 master is waiting for you, and the men's all 
 ready." 
 
 "Thank you, Jacques," I replied; "I hope 
 to leave here a winner to-night." 
 
 " I hope you won't, sir," answered the 
 faithful Jacques ; " something has upset my 
 master to-day, and perhaps if he won to-night 
 he would feel better." 
 
 I was certainly off colour that night, and a 
 carefully prepared attack on the King's 
 knight's side by the enemy got me into such 
 desperate straits that I resigned at move 
 forty-three, 
 
 10*
 
 148 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " An even fiver on the next game," was my 
 challenge. 
 
 " Done," said Humphrey Friende ; " the fiver 
 is mine." 
 
 We tossed for move, and I won. 
 
 I had not the sum of money with me if I 
 lost. Long and deeply I thought, but some- 
 how defeat was looming ahead. 
 
 " I have won — I have you ! " chuckled the 
 old man, as time went on ; " you had better 
 resign — it's waste of time going on." 
 
 So it was. I resigned. 
 
 "Double or quits," I said. "Just one more 
 game." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," replied the victor ; 
 " but, first — Jacques " — he rang the bell. 
 
 The faithful Jacques appeared instantly, as 
 if he had been at the door itself. 
 
 " Whisky, soda, and cigars," his master 
 ordered, " and then you need not wait up for 
 me. I may be late." 
 
 " Help yourself, doctor, and me, if you 
 don't mind," said Friende, " and now for a 
 great struggle." 
 
 Temptation was too strong for me here, 
 Brown, and I dropped two minute tabloids of 
 digitalin into my opponent's drink. Ten pounds 
 was far too much for me to lose, just at this time.
 
 AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT 149 
 
 I only put enough into the drink to make 
 him feel queer ; I wouldn't have killed him 
 then for anything. I should have no one to 
 play chess with if he were gone. 
 
 We started once again, and twice during 
 the game I fancied I heard a movement 
 outside the door. Could Jacques possibly be 
 waiting and watching ? I must be careful — 
 surely he had not seen me doctor the whisky- 
 and-soda .'' 
 
 If he had, trouble was brewing. 
 
 As time passed, I noticed that Friende was 
 getting pale, and, suddenly, without a 
 moment's warning, he dropped off his chair in 
 a dead faint. Before I could do more, his 
 man Jacques was in the room. 
 
 He picked his master up, undid his collar 
 and shirt and laid him on the sofa, taking no 
 notice whatever of me until these actions 
 were completed. Then, his little eyes glaring 
 furiously at me, he said : 
 
 " If he dies, I know how he was killed. I 
 saw you put something in his drink — I 
 watched you — I thought you were trying to 
 do him good, but now I see. — you — a doctor 
 — doing this for a paltry ten pounds." 
 
 " My dear Jacques, what are you " 
 
 " Don't talk to me," said the man.
 
 150 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 apparently mad with rage. " If my master dies, 
 you shall hang — hang, I say, or, if not, I 
 shall kill you myself with these hands," and 
 he extended his long claw-like fingers towards 
 me. 
 
 At this morrient Friende opened his eyes, 
 and said in unsteady tones : 
 
 " What on earth is the matter ? Have I 
 been ill ? " 
 
 " Only for a minute, sir," answered Jacques. 
 
 I stepped forward with the idea in my 
 mind that I might perhaps be able to bluff 
 things out, but Jacques jumped in front of me. 
 
 " You are not going near him till he knows 
 why he was ill," he snarled. 
 
 Turning to his master, he said, pointing at me : 
 
 " That man put poison in your drink, sir. 
 I saw him do it. I was watching the game 
 from behind the door. It was he who made 
 you ill, so that he might win ten pounds." 
 
 " It's a lie, " I replied, looking savagely at 
 Jacques, who was still breathing short from 
 excitement. Humphrey Friende looked me 
 straight in the face. 
 
 " Jacques has never told a lie yet. Dr. 
 d'Escombe. May I ask you myself, did you 
 put anything in my drink ? " 
 
 I saw that the game was up, and replied :
 
 AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT 151 
 
 " Well, if 70U must know, I thought you 
 were looking seedy, and gave you a little 
 medicine without making you aware of the 
 fact." 
 
 " A very opportune moment to drug me," 
 he sneered. " But, oh, doctor, doctor, you of 
 all men. I would have gladly given you the 
 ten pounds ! " 
 
 Then, getting angry, he continued : " This, 
 of course, is your last visit here, and I tell 
 you point-blank that my will will read 
 differently next week. I am too hurt to say 
 any more. Jacques, show Dr. d'Escombe the 
 door." 
 
 "You will be sorry, Mr. Friende, that you 
 should have acted like this, just on the word 
 of a scarecrow servant such as that, " I said 
 angrily, pointing to Jacques, who only smiled 
 and opened the door for me. 
 
 I was very sick with myself that night, and 
 I had a good stiff glass of soda and my 
 particular poison at once. I was not going to 
 be beaten without a struggle, and sat down 
 to smoke and turn things over in my mind. 
 He must not alter his will, that was the point. 
 As I ruminated, my eyes glancing idly round 
 my cosy room, the thought of a diphtheria 
 cultivation-tube upstairs gave me an idea.
 
 152 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I looked at the clock ; ten minutes after 
 midnight. By half-past I had collected on my 
 table a pair of soft rubber shoes, a small 
 compendium jemmy and pick-lock — ^given to 
 me by a patient who was very expert with it 
 — an electric torch, a big bunch of all kinds 
 of keys, two cultivation-tubes, a revolver, 
 a small bundle of cotton-wool and some very 
 thin rubber operating gloves. After carefully 
 examining each article, to make sure that 
 everything there was in perfect working order, 
 I lit a big cigar, and sat down to read. 
 
 By the time I had smoked a second cigar it 
 was nearly two o'clock. 
 
 Behold me, then, in soft hat, overcoat, 
 rubber shoes on my feet, and the rest of my 
 paraphernaha in my pockets, carefully looking 
 round from the shelter of my front door, 
 trying to locate the policeman on the beat. 
 I waited for ten minutes ; everything was 
 silent and still. I waited until a heavy cloud 
 turned the streets and houses into deep 
 shadows before I rapidly crossed the road. I 
 went round to the house of one Humphrey 
 Friende, Esq., to pay a late night call — and I 
 did not go to the front door — no — but round 
 the house to the kitchen quarters. 
 
 There were two doors, and I tried my care-
 
 AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT 153 
 
 fully oiled keys on both. The first had its 
 own key in the lock inside. The second was 
 clear, but was of no use to me. I turned the 
 lock easily with one of my keys, but the door 
 was bolted as well. 
 
 I then tried some pliers on the key of the 
 other door, and in ten seconds I stood within 
 the scullery of my house of call. 
 
 My first action was to re-lock the door, 
 knowing as I did that policemen have a nasty 
 habit of looking round and noticing open 
 windows, doors, etc. The key was left in so 
 that my retreat would be hindered only for a 
 moment, should I have to hurry home. 
 
 Walking slowly and quietly, I made my way 
 to the smoking-room I knew so well. Every- 
 thing was absolutely quiet, and by the aid of 
 my electric torch, occasionally used, I arrived 
 without a sound at my destination. This was 
 the wall on which, hung the elaborate pipe- 
 rack, in which, carefully arranged, was the 
 collection of pipes smoked regularly by my 
 one-time companion and opponent. 
 
 Now to make matters safe. 
 
 Out of my pocket came the glass tubes. 
 
 These, by the light of the torch, were 
 opened. I took the precaution of putting on 
 the rubber gloves before starting on this stage
 
 154 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 of the proceedings. The cotton-wool was now 
 used, and in five minutes all the mouth-pieces 
 of the numerous pipes, cigar and cigarette 
 holders, were smeared with a virulent diph- 
 theria cultivation. Anyone putting these pipes 
 into his mouth for the next day or two ran a 
 big risk of contracting the disease mentioned. 
 
 I could do no more, and having put back 
 into my pocket every trace I had made of my 
 nocturnal visit, I carefully and silently 
 retraced my steps to the back door, exulting 
 in my successful visit. 
 
 " Botheration," I half-whispered to myself 
 as I got to the exit, " the key's gone." 
 
 It was. 
 
 In a moment my hand grasped the revolver 
 in my side pocket, and I stood in the dark- 
 ness, fearing to breathe. Someone was about, 
 and listening most intently, I felt certain I 
 heard the sound of restrained respiration quite 
 close to me. 
 
 I decided. 
 
 With my revolver in my right hand I 
 pressed the button of my electric torch with 
 the left, and looked round me. I had an idea 
 of w^hat I should see, and I was right. On 
 the other side of the room holding a great 
 stick was Jacques.
 
 AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT 155 
 
 Jacques, whitefaced and trembling, the 
 same and yet not the same. He was surprised 
 and frightened. 
 
 He hadn't expected me. 
 
 " One word and you're a dead man, 
 Jacques," I said, with an angry frown and an 
 expression on my face that told the wretched, 
 shaking servant that I meant what I said. 
 
 He had evidently thought to entrap burglars 
 and had not expected the sudden illumination 
 and attack, and certainly not me. As a matter 
 of fact, if I had been two seconds later, he 
 would have been outside the other door in 
 the scullery, and the alarm would have been 
 sounding through the house. My luck just 
 saved me. 
 
 Immediate action following decision got me 
 through this scrape. 
 
 " Listen to me, Jacques. Do you hear me ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 '• I have been trying to find your master's 
 will." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "I have failed." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Oh, hang your ' Yes, sirs ' — you will not 
 whisper one word about my being here." 
 
 " No, sir."
 
 156 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " That is all very well, Master Jacques, I 
 have had one experience of you this evening 
 already. I must make things certain as far as 
 you are concerned." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Put down that stick ; put it down," I 
 continued ; he showed some incHnation to come 
 for me, I thought. 
 
 " Quickly ! — now don't forget — one sound of 
 alarm, or movement, and I fire." The revolver 
 was still pointing straight at him. 
 
 " Please pay attention. I have done no 
 harm in the house either to your master or to 
 yourself, have I ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 He had not seen me in the smoking-room. 
 All was well. 
 
 " You will not, therefore, open your mouth 
 as to this visit of mine ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Wait a minute. To make it safe — take 
 this piece of paper and pen " — I took them 
 out of my pocket with difficulty, the revolver 
 and torch each requiring attention — " and write, 
 ' I, John Jacques,' write it down — ' I, John 
 Jacques, freely confess, that Dr. More 
 d'Escombe found me stealing.' 
 
 "Oh, no, sir — no " 
 
 ? 35
 
 AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT 157 
 
 " Quiet, you fool," I whispered. " If you 
 waken any of the household, it will be the end 
 of you, — write." 
 
 " ' My master's cigars, spirits and money on 
 the night of October the thirteenth, nineteen 
 hundred and nine. ' " 
 " Sign it." 
 
 He did so, great beads of sweat standing out 
 on his lean, hard face. 
 
 " Now give it to me. I have done no 
 harm, and if you keep quiet, there will be no 
 trouble. Good-night, Jacques." 
 
 I crossed the road once more, feeling pretty 
 safe. Jacques dare not say a word. What 
 could he say ? Friende himself might escape 
 but most likely not. He was a great smoker, 
 and without doubt he would use two or three 
 of those pipes that I had turned into such 
 deadly traps. 
 
 I slept quite well that night, and woke up 
 quite fresh in the morning. 
 
 Would Fate prove kind or false ? 
 
 Would Friende get ill before he altered his 
 will ? All was quiet during that first day. 
 
 On the second day a carriage drew up at 
 Mr. Humphrey Friende's house — a doctor's 
 carriage. 
 
 Eureka ! — he was ill.
 
 158 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 He was — very ill, and in spite of all treat- 
 ment he died of acute diphtheria, and was 
 followed in two days by his man-servant, 
 Jacques, who it was thought contracted the 
 disease from him. 
 
 But Jacques was an inveterate smoker. 
 
 So ended my happy chess evenings ; but the 
 will was not altered, and my temporary 
 financial troubles were once more at an end.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 IN WHICH I SILENCE AN ENEMY 
 
 A BOUT two years after I had started practice 
 ^^^~^ in Cromwell Road, I found it necessary to 
 keep an assistant. This need impHcated me, a 
 little later on, in a trial of wits which became 
 ultimately a duel to the death between myself 
 and a remarkably clever young man, who 
 possessed that scorn and utter disregard of the 
 modern code of morality, which I flattered 
 myself I had never come across except in my 
 own personality. 
 
 You and I, Laurence, have frequently been 
 opponents, and sometimes partners in the only 
 two great games of skill played in England ; 
 there are others much more difficult played 
 abroad : I mean whist and chess. Chess, as 
 we have often remarked, is a game of practically 
 mathematical certainty, and you can each see 
 both sides of the game. But whist is different : 
 it does not require that foresight and brain- 
 
 159
 
 i6o THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 wearing calculation and appreciation of the 
 ultimate disposition of forces, which, if you 
 are cute enough to see it, must come. On 
 the other hand, however, it requires deduction, 
 the art of discovering the enemy's plans and 
 movements in the future by utilizing the few, 
 and often trivia], signs vouchsafed to you 
 by the play in the early part of the 
 hand. 
 
 The man with the exact, mathematical mind 
 will win at chess. Whist wants more than that ; 
 it wants an argumentative and reasoning brain 
 with the faculty of putting two and two 
 together, and, at the same time, the cunning 
 necessary to mislead the adversary in his 
 deductive reasoning with regard to you. 
 
 I mention this, because in my duel with 
 young Anderson, it was my superior power of 
 reasoning from small things to big, which 
 enabled me to follow his cofhn to the grave, 
 instead of vice versa. 
 
 This young man — he had only been qualified 
 two years — came to me with the most flattering 
 testimonials from his college and hospital, and 
 he had that keen and alert look about his 
 small, closely set, greenish eyes with their 
 light eyelashes, and almost invisible eyebrows, 
 which showed a brain quick to understand,
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY i6i 
 
 and act, while the big nose and square jaw 
 indicated pluck and determination. 
 
 I made a great mistake in going against one 
 of my axioms, when I closed with him ; he 
 had bright red hair — and I always have 
 distrusted, and always shall distrust the red- 
 headed man — and pursue the red-headed 
 woman. 
 
 I took him into my house, fixed him up a room 
 which could serve both as a bed and sitting 
 apartment if he wished to be alone; but he 
 had the run of the house also. 
 
 I first suspected him of prying when I 
 found a brown boot-button under a chair in 
 my smoking-room, which chair I used to st;ind 
 on in order to get at a little safe that I had 
 had built into the panelled wall seven feet 
 from the ground. It seemed to me that the 
 button must have been forced off when a step 
 up on to the chair was made, and — Anderson 
 always wore brown button boots. 
 
 The inference was he had been examining, 
 or tampering with my safe. 
 
 The question occurred at once, was he 
 suspicious of me and consequently trying to 
 find out what he could, or, was he simply a 
 thief ? 
 
 From that time I watched liim closely, but 
 
 II
 
 i62 - THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 discovered nothing. I therefore treated him 
 even more affably than before, but took the 
 precaution of removing everything of import- 
 ance from the safe to my bank in a sealed tin 
 box. 
 
 I was having a lot of trouble just at this 
 time with a nurse, a keen, handsome woman 
 of the world, bent solely on self-aggrandisement. 
 She had been called in to attend a case of 
 mine which had ended fatally, but, sad to say, 
 the patient before she died confided enough 
 to this nurse to enable her to come and 
 threaten me, unless I made it worth her while 
 to keep quiet. I was talking one evening to 
 Anderson in his room ; we had each just 
 lighted a cigar, when the page-boy came to 
 tell me that Nurse James, the blackmailer I 
 mentioned, would like to see me. 
 
 " Excuse me, Anderson," I said. " I 
 must just see this woman ; I shan't be 
 long." 
 
 I had, however, quite a lengthy and very 
 stormy interview, which ended in the trans- 
 ference of two five-pound notes from my 
 pocket to her purse. I was startled when I 
 came to let her out to find the door of my 
 room ajar. I could have sworn I shut it most 
 carefully when I entered; therefore someone,
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 163 
 
 taking advantage of our heated argument, had 
 played the eavesdropper. This was serious. 
 
 I went back to Anderson's room, and in a 
 moment knew that it was he who had Hstened, 
 and that now he knew too much for my 
 safety. 
 
 You will remember that when I went away 
 we had just ht cigars. I left him smoking, 
 and when I came back he was still smoking, 
 but only the first half-inch had been con- 
 sumed ; the cigar had not been touched while 
 I was away ; mine was nearly finished. The 
 idea struck him about ten seconds later, and 
 he threw the tell-tale roll of tobacco into the 
 fire, saying that he felt queer, as an excuse. 
 
 Matters began to look serious ; it was quite 
 certain that this red-headed devil was a danger- 
 ous enemy, a man to be reckoned with ; and I 
 began to turn over schemes in my mind for 
 his defeat. 
 
 " I can't chuck him, that's certain," I 
 thought. " One breath of suspicion and twenty 
 criminal offences might be raked up against 
 me. It's only my position, my extravagant 
 living, and prompt payment of all local debts 
 which keeps me, like Csesar's wife, beyond sus- 
 picion. One inkling in the right quarter, and 
 
 I'm bowled out." 
 
 II*
 
 i64 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I had at this time two distinct and separate 
 causes of fear, which I could hardly hope to 
 escape from for any length of time, seeing 
 that I was again very short of money. 
 
 Two plans of campaign had to be mapped 
 out. I decided that the " nurse " danger was 
 the more important, seeing that a post-mortem 
 on the case she knew of would mean absolute 
 disaster, and only needed a word from her to 
 be brought about. 
 
 You have seen, Laurence, in your time, that 
 I got on well with the fair sex ; and I proceeded 
 to fall desperately in love with this handsome 
 clever woman who was so dangerous. 
 
 My wife had been dead two years, and 
 the chance of catching and marrying the suc- 
 cessful, good-looking (I'm not boasting, as^ 
 you know) doctor, was too great a tempta- 
 tion. 
 
 We became engaged, and rarely a day passed 
 that I did not spend an hour or two with 
 her in her quiet room. You will not be sur- 
 prised to hear that before long the tendency 
 to drink, which she had suffered from for 
 some time, increased to a very marked 
 extent. 
 
 Meanwhile, Anderson^ all unconscious of mv 
 knowledge of his treachery, poked and pryed
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 165 
 
 about to try and get more information as to 
 my affairs ; but to no avail. 
 
 I was too careful. 
 
 " What about a holiday, Anderson ? " I asked 
 him about six months after he came to me. 
 "Things are very slack; don't you want to go 
 and see your people ? " I was trying to get 
 information, because I wanted to know whom 
 I should have to deal with when he was 
 taken ill. 
 
 He looked up at me, a sharp, keen glance, 
 and then, turning away, said, " My people are 
 dead, except one brother. He's an advocate 
 in Edinburgh, and doesn't want me about." 
 
 " Then you don't want to go away ? " 
 
 " Thank you very much, no." 
 
 He was a smart young man this ; I felt that 
 he suspected some motive in my question, but 
 of course could not tell what. 
 
 The opportunity for disposing of the black- 
 mailing lady came before long. For some 
 weeks she had been bothering me to make our 
 engagement known, which was the last thing I 
 wanted ; consequently my presents of brandy 
 and champagne had become more frequent, 
 but had made sad inroads into my scanty store 
 of ready money, and it was with great joy that 
 I welcomed a message one evening to go to
 
 i66 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Netting Hill and see Nurse James, who was 
 very ill. 
 
 " Good old chappie, here we are," said the 
 flushed, dishevelled-looking woman, who, with 
 her loose hair hanging round her shoulders, 
 which were covered by a brilliant dressing- 
 jacket, sat up in bed, the wild stare of delirium 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " Coming to sit with me and see all the 
 devils ? — thousands of them ; and they're all got 
 up like tom-tits, see — all over the bed ? — I keep 
 on catching them. There's another," and she 
 made a motion of seizing a fluttering bird and 
 wringing its neck. 
 
 " That one's done for — now let's have a 
 drink ; half and half champagne and brandy, 
 fizz and cognac for two — ganjon ! " 
 
 She was in the grip of alcoholic poisoning. 
 
 I called for the landlady. 
 
 " She must have someone to sit with her 
 and look after her," I said. " Has she any 
 friends or relatives that you know of ? She 
 would never open her mouth on the subject 
 
 to me." 
 
 " I don't know of anyone, sorr," answered 
 the corpulent, and almost blue-faced Irish- 
 woman. " Nobody's ever-r come to see her-r, 
 savin' your worship."
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 167 
 
 " Can you find anyone who knows anything 
 about nursing ? " 
 
 " There's Widdy O'Halloran down the 
 street, sorr, she've done a bit av it." 
 
 " See if she'll come in and help ; I'll pay 
 her," I said. 
 
 " The good Lord bless ye for a kind 
 gintleman," said the old soul in a husky 
 whisper as she left the room. 
 
 " You love, come over to me," shouted 
 the invaUd. " Where are the drinks ? " 
 
 " Coming, Susie, coming," I said. '' Now 
 you must stay quiet in bed," and I mixed her 
 a good tumblerful of the drink she required. 
 
 The Widdy O'Halloran was able to stop, 
 and, giving her instructions, I left, followed 
 by the imprecations of the once handsome, 
 clever nurse. 
 
 I went straight to the house of Dale, a 
 practitioner close by, and, telling him of the 
 case, asked if he would, as a favour, look in 
 and see her, and give me his opinion. 
 
 " She has nursed several cases for me," I 
 told him, " and I am anxious about her ; she 
 seems to be quite friendless." 
 
 I dare not, as you will understand, put in a 
 trained nurse, as she might in her ravings talk 
 about me ; whereas the Widdy, if supplied
 
 i68 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 with a sufficiency of gin, would take no 
 notice. 
 
 I went to see her again that night, but 
 took my trusty hypodermic with me, which I 
 was able to use quite comfortably, as the sick 
 woman was lying half comatose from exhaus- 
 tion. She was pretty certain to recover unless 
 further steps were taken ; but that was all in 
 my plan from the very first. 
 
 I injected a mixture of atropine and aconite, 
 which, without altering the symptoms in any 
 way, would cause intense depression of the 
 heart, and prevent that tendency to rally 
 which is common to the first attack of 
 delirium tremens. 
 
 When I left the house, thinking that very 
 probably I had seen the last of Susie, I was 
 startled and surprised for the moment to see 
 the figure of a man run round to the back of 
 the little semi-detached villa I had just 
 left. 
 
 The sick-room was on the ground floor, 
 and, turning back, I went to the window, and 
 found out what I suspected ; namely, that it 
 was possible, on account of an ill-fitting blind, 
 to see half the room from the outside, and, 
 unfortunately, that half in which the bed was 
 situated.
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 169 
 
 "A spy," I said. "Could it be anyone but 
 Anderson ? " 
 
 I decided to make inquiries when I got home ; 
 and instead of going to the club as was my 
 wont in the evening, I hailed the first taxi I 
 could find, and hurried back to my house. I 
 took the precaution to examine the soil in the 
 little garden before I left, and even brought a 
 small piece away with me. 
 
 " Now if Anderson's out, and has any mud 
 on his boots hke this, I have him," I 
 muttered. " And, vice versa, he has me to a 
 certain extent ; he must have seen me use the 
 hypodermic." 
 
 If once he had any definite evidence against 
 me, my hfe would not be worth living, and 
 once he knew that I knew that he knew, my 
 chances of beating him would become very 
 much less. To-night should decide. 
 
 I reached home ; he was out, but as no one 
 had seen me go in, I left again secretly, and 
 when I once more got back about midnight, 
 there was Anderson sitting by the fire in felt 
 slippers, smoking and drinking. 
 
 "' What a beast of a night," he volunteered ; 
 it certainly was cold and damp. " I'm jolly 
 glad I've been able to sit nice and quiet all 
 the evening."
 
 170 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Quite a pretty liar," I thought, but said, 
 " Well, I'm awfully sorry, but I'm very tired ; 
 would you mind just running up to the 
 Major and giving him his evening dose ? " 
 
 This was a patient in Nevern Square whom 
 I always saw myself, but I felt I must get 
 Anderson out of the way for awhile, in order 
 to have a look round his room. 
 
 " Yes, I'll go at once," he answered, and 
 when he came back ready to go out he was 
 wearing a clean pair of boots. 
 
 The moment he had gone, and I had 
 fastened the outer door, I went to his apart- 
 ment, and sure enough, as I thought, I found 
 a pair of boots with plenty of the clayey soil 
 which I expected to find clinging to them. 
 
 I at once wrote a note to the medical man 
 whom I had asked to see Susie, saying that I 
 should be away for a day or two, would he be 
 so kind as to look after her, order what he 
 wanted, and charge to me. He had a very 
 poor practice, and would, I knew, be glad to 
 do anything. 
 
 " I'm going to have a few days in the 
 country, Anderson," I said to that gentleman a 
 few days later, as we sat and smoked, " and 
 you must come with me ; I hke to have some 
 one sensible to talk to, instead of being con-
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 171 
 
 stantly bored by the drivel of the ordinary 
 chance acquaintance of the country." 
 
 He looked at me, a sharp, half inquiring 
 glance from those keen eyes of his, and I 
 imagined him saying to himself, " Does he 
 suspect me, is this a trap ? " 
 
 " Where do you propose to go ? " he 
 inquired. 
 
 " I am going to a little place called Hythe 
 in the Southampton Water, a most delightful 
 spot ; a friend of mine has offered me the use 
 of his bungalow for a while. And I'm going 
 to accept the offer," was my reply. 
 
 He didn't quite like it ; I could fathom the 
 doubt in his mind as to whether he was safe. 
 You see, he was beginning to know me, but 
 there was no way out for him, and so, accept- 
 ing the inevitable, he smiled blandly and asked : 
 
 " When do we go ? " 
 
 " The day after to-morrow, thank goodness," 
 I answered. " And I think we ought to have 
 a thundering good time. No work, and plenty 
 to do." 
 
 I don't think he ever dreamt that there was 
 the remotest chance of his leaving that bunga- 
 low feet foremost, although he had vague 
 suspicions, I knew, that my arrangements were 
 made. At the same time I felt that I had a
 
 172 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 clever and resourceful antagonist, and that it 
 behoved nie to look after myself. 
 
 Breakfast next morning brought me a short 
 note from Dale, my colleague in attendance on 
 Nurse James, saying that she had died during 
 the night — should he sign the certificate ? 
 
 I wrote back thanking him very profusely, 
 and asked him to see to everything for me, 
 both certificate and funeral, and I enclosed 
 with much pleasure (really with profound 
 regret) notes for twenty pounds, the balance 
 from which I hoped he would accept for his 
 trouble. Danger number one was crossed off 
 — scratched ! 
 
 Now for number two, but this one was 
 difficult and required great care. 
 
 We were soon settled in our bungalow, with 
 an old woman to look after us by day, but 
 who left us solus by night. 
 
 I knew it was imperative that Anderson 
 should not leave this little domicile alive, 
 although he was at this time the picture of 
 health and strength. 
 
 I did not take much baggage with me, but 
 I took a dispatch box which I locked and 
 sealed, and generally took an inordinate amount 
 of care over ; it had nothing of importance in 
 it, but it was taken with a purpose.
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 17 
 
 I wished to make absolutely certain ; the 
 evidence against my assistant, so far, was 
 purely circumstantial. This box was the bait ! 
 
 Deductive reasoning told me that if the 
 young man wished to make a search, he could 
 only do it at night, and in order to do that I 
 must be kept asleep. 
 
 Morphia of course would be the drug chosen, 
 easy to give, only sHghtly bitter ; it can be 
 mixed in beer or tea with the greatest ease ; 
 although the books tell you that it must be 
 dissolved in acid. I must tell you, Brown, at 
 this point that I have taken large doses of 
 morphia every day for some years, and have 
 found it the most delightful stimulant and 
 help in times of stress that one could imagine 
 or wish for. Anderson was ignorant of this, 
 and I was not surprised on our second lonely 
 evening in the bungalow to detect morphia in 
 my whisky and soda. 
 
 I went off placidly on the sofa in what 
 appeared to him to be a deep sleep ; as a 
 matter of fact, the dose he gave me was just 
 enough to slightly stimulate my faculties, and 
 when he went to my bedroom in his search 
 for documents or whatever he could find, I 
 took the opportunity to put into his halt 
 empty glass a vegetable drug the name of
 
 174 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 which I will not give away even to you, 
 Laurence ; my experience that night made me 
 decide never to use it again, or tell its name. 
 This occasion was the first and last time I 
 used it in a poisonous dose. 
 
 He came back, flushed and angry-looking, 
 and while I watched him with eyes nearly 
 closed he drank off the doctored whisky and 
 cursed aloud at his failure ; he even shook his 
 fist at me as I lay apparently helpless. 
 
 Then cam_e the gradual onset of the 
 symptoms of my drug. 
 
 This evil thing paralyses the muscular 
 system, but leaves the nervous system un- 
 touched, and given in the right dose it affects 
 the voluntary muscles first, leaving the in- 
 voluntary, that is those of the heart and 
 principal organs which this system governs, 
 unaffected for the time being. 
 
 Imagine, then, Anderson, his red head damp, 
 and clammy with the sweat of fear, his eyes 
 moving quickly and with a terrified expression, 
 his breath coming in short, sobbing gasps, 
 lying on the thick skin rug in front of the 
 little fire-place. Imagine him, I say, when he 
 saw me, whom he thought to have put to 
 sleep^for hours, move slowly oft' the sofa, and 
 walk towards him with the smile of the victor.
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 175 
 
 " What have you done to me, you fiend ? " 
 he jerked out in a husky, horrid voice. 
 " Tell me, am I dying ? you devil ! you 
 devil ! " 
 
 " Yes, Master Anderson," I answered. 
 " You thought to beat me, to blackmail me, 
 to drug me, while all the time you pretended 
 to be my friend. Well, you've lost, and 
 before long your other muscles will fail just as 
 your arm_s and legs, and motor muscles generally, 
 have already failed. You thought to play m.e 
 false, you cursed hound ; and you're taking the 
 consequences." 
 
 " Oh, God, d'Escombe," he begged, " give 
 me a chance. I'll be your slave. I'll do any- 
 thing for you, but don't let me die like this." 
 He made a desperate effort to move, but to 
 no purpose, only the rolling of his eyes and 
 his deep groans told of his struggle. 
 
 " Too late now, too late," I said. " You 
 will keep your senses for a day or two per- 
 haps, but I must stop your talking, because I 
 am sending for the village doctor to attend 
 you." 
 
 The irony of the thing seemed too much 
 for him, and he sank back in a temporary 
 stupor, during which I attended with a second 
 hypodermic injection to his vocal chords.
 
 176 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 thereby making sure that he would tell no 
 tales. 
 
 The round, jolly little country practitioner 
 came next day. "Embolism or thrombosis, 
 don't you think ? " he suggested, turning to 
 me, and I smiled a grim smile at the eyes of 
 the sick man, who could hear, but could 
 neither move nor speak. It certainly must be 
 a very horrible position to be in, especially 
 when you feel you are dying. 
 
 " Quite right, doctor," I answered. " Not 
 much chance." I didn't look at him many 
 more times ; in fact, those eyes of his haunt 
 me yet, but self-defence is the first law of 
 nature, and I had recently been hard pressed. 
 I saw to his funeral and sent him quite a 
 nice wreath. Then, after a few weeks' sail- 
 ing and fishing in Norfolk, I went back to 
 work, feeling at any rate safe for the time 
 being. But it had been a strenuous fight, and 
 if I had not been a morphia-taker, probably 
 Anderson would have come out on top. 
 
 I could afford to take a risk in a tiny out- 
 of-the-way village which in London would 
 have been extremely dangerous. Do you see 
 now what I meant by deduction as against 
 apparent logical certainties ? 
 
 I finish this just before leaving to play a
 
 I SILENCE AN ENEMY 177 
 
 rubber at your house, Brown, and I hope by 
 some means or other, crooked most Hkely, to 
 get a liver or two out of you, and the old 
 duffers with you. 
 
 4u revoir for this evening. 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 IN WHICH I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE 
 
 OIR RICHARD NANSON, of the firm 
 *^ of Nanson & Nanson, foreign bankers, in 
 Moorgate Street, was a small mine of wealth 
 to me for about four months. 
 
 I met him first at Monte Carlo, the place 
 above all others, to my mind, for a short 
 holiday. 
 
 He was one of those big, handsome, aris- 
 tocratic-looking men, with a long, fair beard, 
 tinged with grey, and a voice of the most 
 beautiful quality. 
 
 As you know by this time. Brown, I am a 
 being of the most complex nature. I love 
 music, I can sit and listen to it all day if it 
 is good, I am a great admirer of art — indeed, 
 I am not at all a bad artist myself, and yet 
 at the same time, there are few vices I have 
 not indulged in. 
 
 Yes, I find pleasure in the very lowest and 
 
 178
 
 I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE 179 
 
 most diabolically wicked places which are to 
 be found on the Continent — nothing of that 
 kind jars on me. 
 
 All this, apropos of Nanson's voice. 
 
 A strong desire to know him was soon 
 satisfied by a mutual friend visiting at the 
 Casino, and, curiously enough, he took a great 
 fancy to me, so much so, that, as we were 
 both without travelling companions, he asked 
 me to be his guest at the Hotel de Paris, in 
 which he was staying, for the last three days 
 of my short visit to the gamblers' paradise. 
 
 You may be certain I accepted the invita- 
 tion very promptly, and hoped that, in the 
 future, something substantial in the way of 
 financial increment might be the outcome of 
 the new friendship struck up in this un- 
 expected manner. We went about together 
 constantly during the next three days, and in 
 that time I made a discovery, or at least felt 
 certain that I had. 
 
 Sir Richard Nanson was in the early stage 
 of that grim and fatal disease, G.V.I. , as we 
 call it, General Paralysis of the Insane being 
 the full name. 
 
 The first stage of this affection, which is 
 much more common than folks imagine, is 
 very often one of exaltation, during which the 
 
 12*
 
 i8o THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 sufferer imagines himself possessed of wealth 
 untold, or power unlimited. It was while the 
 banker was in this diseased frame of mind that 
 I hoped to feather my nest at his expense. 
 Without going into further detail at this 
 point, I may say that on my return to 
 London, I managed to extract no less than 
 five thousand pounds from him in the course 
 of the next two months. I so contrived that 
 not even his subordinates, or clerks at the 
 bank, had any definite proof that this money 
 had been given to me. 
 
 I received it all in notes, and as far as any- 
 body knew, these notes had been used by the 
 head of the firm himself. 
 
 Of course, if suspicion arose they could be 
 traced, but suspicion should not be aroused if 
 I could help it. I say nobody knew it, and I 
 went my way, happy in that beHef, until the 
 day on which he paid me the last five 
 hundred. 
 
 On that particular morning I had cause to 
 go out suddenly into the little ante-room 
 adjoining his office in the bank, in which 
 Fernie, an old servant, waited all day to 
 attend to the personal wants of his master. 
 
 There was a solid party-wall between the 
 two rooms, but running along the top of this
 
 I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE i8i 
 
 wall was a narrow strip of glass, evidently put 
 there to give more light to the office. 
 
 I was disagreeably surprised when I entered 
 the ante-room to see Fernie standing on a 
 wooden office chair, which in its turn stood 
 on a small table, with his nose glued to the 
 glass which I have mentioned. It was 
 evident that he could see, and in all proba- 
 bility hear, what went on in his master's 
 sanctum. 
 
 I took an antipathy to the creature the first 
 time I saw him. He was a little, thin, dried- 
 up atom of a man, with a wizened, wrinkled 
 face, and sharp, beady black eyes, which I felt 
 sure took in all that went on around their 
 owner. 
 
 " Hullo, Fernie," I said quietly, " what's the 
 game up there ? " 
 
 He jumped down with wonderful activity 
 for a man over sixty, and coming close up to 
 me, his restless, twinkling eyes shining quite 
 malignantly, he squeaked out in his high- 
 pitched voice : 
 
 " I seen yer — I seen yer every time when 'e 
 give yer all them notes ; you ain't playin' fair 
 with 'im — 'e don't know wot 'e's a-doin' of — 
 you've got to give 'em back, d'ye 'ear, 'e'll 
 want 'em all for Miss Lucy.'
 
 i82 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 This was awkward, because it was a certainty 
 that before long all the world must know of 
 the banker's illness, and an inquiry into his 
 finances would inevitably follow. With this 
 little devil as a witness against me, my 
 dealings with a man whose brain was affected 
 would cause me serious trouble if they came 
 out. 
 
 I could see that it was necessary to go 
 " canny " with this queer specimen of 
 humanity, and I asked, " Why do you say ' he 
 doesn't know what he's doing ' ? " 
 
 " I've knowed 'im thirty years," was the 
 answer, " and I've seen that 'e's not been 
 'isself for some time." 
 
 " You're talking nonsense, Fernie," I laughed, 
 " Sir Richard is all right." 
 
 I kept away from the bank for close on a 
 fortnight after this, and then received a 
 message from Sir Richard asking me to visit 
 him at his private house, in Kensington 
 Gardens, which, so far, I had avoided. 
 
 I was very disgusted when I saw Fernie, 
 dressed in irreproachable black, open the door 
 for me, and I did not fail to notice the look, 
 both suspicious and impertinent, which he 
 gave me. Nanson was sitting in an arm-chair 
 in his gorgeously furnished bedroom, and I 
 
 /
 
 I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE 183 
 
 was surprised to see the change which two 
 weeks had made in him. 
 
 " Where the devil have you been all this 
 long time, d'Escombe ? " he inquired. " I'm 
 very seedy. My brain's queer, I don't seem 
 to be able to think logically, and my money 
 matters are all in a muddle. I don't know if 
 I've got any left. Didn't I give you some 
 once ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. Sir Richard," I answered, and as 
 I spoke I looked round the room, half expecting 
 to see that horrid little hound Fernie some- 
 where about. 
 
 " As you know, d'Escombe, I've only got 
 my daughter to think of, but I don't know 
 how I stand, or how she would be situated if 
 I died now. I can't get to the bank; I 
 shouldn't comprehend things if I could. 
 What's coming to me, doctor, am I going 
 mad ? " he asked, and the once strong-minded, 
 able, and plucky financier burst into a flood 
 of tears. 
 
 " Cheer up, man," I said, " I'll just keep 
 you in bed for a week or so, and give you 
 a chance to pick up ; you've been overdoing 
 it." 
 
 " All right, d'Escombe," was the answer. 
 " But I refuse to see any visitors, or do any
 
 i84 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 business. Only you, and Lucy, and Fernie 
 shall be allowed in." 
 
 I had a talk with his daughter before I left, 
 and told her that the outlook was bad, but 
 suggested that we should wait another fort- 
 night before letting anyone into the secret, if 
 things worked out according to my prognosis. 
 
 " Once brand a man with brain trouble and 
 he is condemned for the rest of his life," I 
 told her. 
 
 Fernie opened the door to show me out 
 that afternoon, and as he did so, said to me, 
 " That money's Miss Lucy's ; you give it to her, 
 doctor ; I've seen 'im and you over them notes." 
 
 The affair was now at such a pass as to 
 cause me " furiously to think," but it was 
 two days later that the idea came to me. 
 
 Sir Richard's mental faculties were rapidly 
 getting worse. It was now necessary either for 
 his daughter, Fernie or me to be always in 
 attendance on him, and it was a look that 
 he gave Fernie, and which I caught, that first 
 put the project into my head. 
 
 The banker's brain, as I have told you, was 
 very unbalanced ; he was irritable, suspicious, 
 and difficult to manage, and it was quite easy 
 for me to do what I wished, namely, to 
 inflame his mind against his old servant.
 
 I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE 185 
 
 "I don't like telling tales, Sir Richard," I 
 said to him ; " but there is u leakage of 
 information about your health. I was asked 
 only yesterday if your brain was queer. Of 
 course I said no, but where did the idea 
 come from ? Only your daughter, myself or 
 Fernie could possibly have said anything." 
 
 "Then it must be that rascal," he shouted. 
 " Send for him now, I'll show him that he 
 can't play fast and loose with me." 
 
 " Gently, Sir Richard, gently," I said. 
 " You must keep calm, sleep on it, and we'll 
 see to-morrow ; in the meantime I'll make a 
 few inquiries for you." 
 
 He calmed down, and I went home to make 
 preparations for carrying out my scheme. 
 
 I proposed, after sowing the seeds of sus- 
 picion in the sick man's mind against Fernie, 
 once more to utiHze a certain alkaloid and a 
 drug in combination, the effect of which, 
 injected hypodermically, would be to cause in 
 the banker's tottering brain an intense excite- 
 ment, which would be very likely to take a 
 homicidal form. If, when the effect was at 
 its climax, he should be alone whh Fernie, 
 then — well, he was big and still muscular, and 
 the servant would not have a chance, if 
 trouble did come. It was a lovely plan, and
 
 i86 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I felt quite pleased with myself, as I over- 
 hauled my syringe, pregnant with so great a 
 potential power of evil. 
 
 I intended to use muscarin, a little known 
 extractive from poisonous fungi, and curare, 
 and I felt pretty certain that they would have 
 the desired effect. And then, with Fernie 
 removed, and Nanson looked upon as a lunatic, 
 the finger of suspicion could not be pointed 
 at me. 
 
 I had had made to my design, about two 
 years before, a pocket-case which would hold 
 in safety a fully charged hypodermic syringe, 
 and this was a necessity to me, because, as a 
 rule, when I used my favourite weapon, it had 
 to be manipulated in a hurry. If it were 
 necessary to charge it on the scene of action, 
 a considerable amount of time was required, 
 and very often I had not more than thirty or 
 forty seconds, free from observation, in which 
 to work. 
 
 On the next morning, I still further inflamed 
 my patient's temper against Fernie, and when 
 he became excited I gave him two tabloids of 
 morphia, ostensibly to calm him, really to keep 
 him quiet until the other drugs were active, 
 and then, after waiting half an hour, I put my 
 syringe into the back of his neck, and injected
 
 I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE 187 
 
 the prepared mixture. The usual place in 
 which to give a hypodermic is, of course, the 
 arm, but it shows, and, except for legitimate 
 work, I always use the neck. In order to 
 make things safe, I told Miss Nanson that I 
 thought she wanted more fresh air, and said 
 that at two o'clock I should call for her and 
 take her for a short run in my motor. She 
 demurred for a while, but I got my own way 
 ultimately, and as I handed her into the car 
 later on I remarked to Fernie, who had run 
 downstairs for a moment, " We leave him in 
 your most capable hands, Fernie, Fm sure he 
 will be safe." 
 
 Did some strange presentiment come over 
 him just then ? He certainly went suddenly 
 white, indeed almost ghastly. I confess I felt 
 a little excited as we drew up at the Nanson 
 establishment about a quarter-past three, but 
 no, everything was quite peaceful. 
 
 " Good God," I thought, " am I going to 
 fail ? " 
 
 " Everything quite quiet, Sarah .? " asked the 
 young mistress, us the neat housemaid brought 
 in afternoon tea. 
 
 " Yes, miss, quite quiet," answered the girl. 
 
 Little did the two women dream that I 
 was on tenter-hooks from second to second.
 
 i88 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 as I waited for something to happen, I hardly 
 knew what, myself. 
 
 " Should we hear his death scream ? " I 
 wondered. 
 
 I really think that was the longest forty- 
 seven minutes of my life. 
 
 The maid returned to remove the cups, and 
 I imagined that Miss Nanson would be curious 
 about my unusually long stay, and then, just 
 as the girl got to the door with the tray it 
 happened. 
 
 It was a scream. 
 
 It came suddenly, out of the silence of the 
 big house, a horrid, dreadful sound of mortal, 
 hopeless fear, so horrid as to give even me that 
 feehng that one's blood is freezing in one's 
 body. Then it died away for a moment only, 
 and recurred with a change of note — a deeper, 
 more despairing and terrifying screech than 
 before, which only a man facing immediate 
 death could utter ; a long-drawn-out last 
 hopeless call, ending in a choking, gurgling 
 bubble — and then — silence. 
 
 " What is it ? What has happened ? Oh, 
 doctor, what is it ? " whispered Miss Nanson, 
 as she half tottered towards me, '' Is it in the 
 house ? W-w-was it father ? " 
 
 The maid still remained motionless by the
 
 I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE 189 
 
 door, and as I said " Come, Miss Nanson, let 
 us see what it is," I put my hand on the 
 girl's shoulder, and told her to find the coach- 
 man and send him upstairs to me. 
 
 All was quiet as we started to go to the 
 invalid's room, but when we got nearer to it, 
 a low, fiendish, blood-curdling chuckle made 
 us stand for a moment and hsten. 
 
 The girl clutched tight hold of my 
 arm. " I'm frightened, doctor. Oh, I'm so 
 frightened," she said in a low, trembling voice ; 
 " something awful has happened." 
 
 I had an idea of what I should see, but, 
 good God ! I never in all my life saw anything 
 quite so repulsive and loathsome. 
 
 One glance, and I stepped back, closing the 
 door as I did so. 
 
 " Go downstairs. Miss Lucy," I said ; " I 
 will look after things, and see to your father, 
 but this is no sight for you." 
 
 She went, and on the stairs passed the 
 square-jawed, strongly-built coachman for whom 
 I had sent. 
 
 He did not look any too happy as I told 
 him to follow me, and when he entered his 
 master's bedroom behind me I thought he 
 would have collapsed. 
 
 Lying on his back with his head towards the
 
 190 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 foot of the bed was the wretched Fernie, his 
 face blue-black, and puffed out almost beyond 
 recognition ; froth issued from his swollen lips, 
 while the thin but sinewy hands of his master 
 still convulsively gripped the bruised and dis- 
 coloured neck of his victim. 
 
 Sir Richard Nanson, with hair dishevelled, and 
 clothed only in a long, white night shirt, was 
 kneeling on the bed, one knee on each side of 
 the dead man, and as I looked he stared at 
 me with an expression I can only describe as 
 being like that of a maddened, half-famished 
 cat, who has just caught a bird, and fears that 
 it is going to be taken from him. 
 
 There was no sign of recognition in his 
 wild, bloodshot eyes, and he made no move- 
 ment, only that he looked about him quickly, 
 savagely, and furtively, as if watching to see 
 that no one came to take his prey from him. 
 
 It was quite evident that Fernie was dead, 
 and that his destroyer was suffering from acute 
 and dangerous mania. 
 
 " No doubt about the action of muscarin 
 and curare," I told myself; "but I must 
 certainly have more experience before I use 
 them again ; evidently the mixture vi^as wrong, 
 or I gave too big a dose." 
 
 The police were sent for, and ultimately Sir
 
 I ATTEND A STRANGE CASE 191 
 
 Richard became an inmate of an asylum, in 
 which he has remained ever since. 
 
 The banker's affairs when examined were in 
 a terrible state, and I went to a good deal of 
 trouble in order to find Lucy Nanson, who is 
 a very independent young person, a post as 
 lady-companion to some society aristocrat. 
 
 And I kept, and have spe?it, the five 
 thousand.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 IN WHICH A PATIENT GROWS CONFIDENTIAL 
 
 A/'OU may often, O most worthy brother- 
 -■- medico, persuade an old trout, even if 
 he is not on the feed, to take a fly, by 
 putting it over him time after time. 
 
 He seems to get tired of seeing the same 
 old fly so often, and after following it down 
 the stream many times he will ultimately rise 
 at it, and then there's a fine old splash. 
 
 As in this delightful sport, so in my life, I 
 have caught a wary old fish many a time by 
 the above method. Living about two miles 
 from Cromwell Road, in a lonely thoroughfare 
 in the old part of Hammersmith, was one 
 Michael Stone. His house. The Nook 
 (save the word ! ), was a tumble-down old 
 stone edifice, lying well back from the highway 
 — an ugly, repulsive-looking dwelling in which 
 •' spooks," and such like, might well have their 
 being. 
 
 192
 
 A CONFIDENTIAL PATIENT 193 
 
 This dismal dwelling was inhabited by two 
 people only, the old man above mentioned 
 and his niece, a girl named Polly. The man 
 had the reputation of being a miser, and 
 certainly his appearance was suitable to the 
 character. He was a tall, spare old man, with 
 a long cadaverous face, a great aquiline nose, 
 and straggHng white hair. His niece was a 
 short, buxom young woman with a nice 
 manner and a soft, pleasing voice. 
 
 I was first called to The Nook to attend 
 Mr. Stone for an attack of angina pectoris, a 
 heart affection, which, as you know, is 
 intensely painful, but not often fatal. 
 
 He was a difficult man to get on with — in 
 fact he had no friends or visitors. I managed, 
 however, to ingratiate myself both with uncle 
 and niece, and went occasionally to the lonely 
 old house to play draughts with my patient, 
 a game to which he was very partial. 
 
 Now, as to the remarks about the trout and 
 the fly. I regarded Michael Stone as a wary 
 old fish, and I was constantly baiting him to 
 let me into the secret of his supposed hoards 
 of gold, if any, and if so, where ? I was 
 fairly certain that rumour did not speak falsely 
 in the matter. 
 
 I was playing his favourite game with him 
 
 13
 
 194 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 in his only sitting-room one evening when he 
 rose to my lure. His niece had gone to bed. 
 
 We had just finished a game, which I 
 allowed him to win, and I got up as if to 
 leave, when he stopped me, and said, " One 
 moment, doctor ; I have come to look upon 
 you as a very honest and straightforward 
 man." And he continued, " You have told 
 me that sooner or later one of these horrible 
 attacks of mine may be the end of me. I 
 must, I suppose, make a will, and I want 
 your assistance." 
 
 I had always treated him, during these 
 attacks, with nitro-glycerine, but had never 
 told him the name of the remedy or given 
 him a prescription, in order, of course, to 
 keep up a regular attendance upon him. 
 
 I mention this as a prelude to the incidents 
 which occurred later. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Stone," I said, " of course 
 if I can be of any use to you, I am always at 
 your service." 
 
 " I felt sure you would help me, doctor," 
 replied the old man. " Now I've been a 
 saving man all my fife, and I've gold — gold I 
 say — hidden. It is to go to my niece, — to 
 Polly, but I want no lawyers prying round, 
 and, mark you, no death duties. You shall
 
 A CONFIDENTIAL PATIENT 195 
 
 help me, doctor, and you shall be paid for so 
 doing. Listen to me. I've got my money in 
 this house — but hush — let us talk in whispers — 
 no one must hear us." 
 
 He bent over close to my ear and dropped 
 his voice. 
 
 " Not a word to a soul, doctor. They 
 think the poor old man has money. So he 
 has," and here he gave another of his eerie 
 cackles. " But they don't know how much. 
 I love it, man, and Polly shall have it — but 
 she doesn't know anything." 
 
 I had a shrewd idea that Polly did know 
 something. But how much, I had to find out. 
 
 " Come with me, doctor," continued the 
 old man. 
 
 He hobbled out of the room, his stick in 
 one hand, a guttering candle in the other. 
 
 I followed with joy in my heart. I had at 
 last achieved my end, at the cost of many 
 a weary evening. 
 
 He reached the end of the corridor, opened 
 a door which let in a rush of air, and we 
 stepped into an empty stone-floored room, 
 which had once, I thought, been a kitchen. 
 The old man put the candle down on the 
 empty hearth, and looked all around him. 
 " Shut that door," said he, as he opened the 
 
 13*
 
 196 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 old oven with shaking hands and drew 
 out a bag, which — thanks be ! gave forth the 
 sound of coins. 
 
 " See here, doctor, this is gold, gold — all 
 mine ! I come here and count it — there are 
 eight bags — eight hundred pounds." He was 
 talking in an excited whisper, his eyes flashing 
 and his hands trembhng. " All mine — and 
 nobody knows." 
 
 " I see," I said. " And all this is for 
 
 Polly ? " 
 
 *' Yes ! Yes ! When I'm dead and gone. 
 But this is not all. Come." 
 
 To make a short story of it, I followed him 
 round the tumble-down old place into all 
 sorts of queer and uncanny holes and corners, 
 and by the time he had finished I was half- 
 dazed with my luck. 
 
 He had just about seven thousand pounds 
 in gold hidden away in that ramshackle old 
 house, and this, except a small sum for Polly, 
 would be a most acceptable addition to my 
 very impoverished exchequer. 
 
 How much did Miss Polly know ? How 
 often had she followed her uncle in his 
 midnight excursions ? I must make it my 
 business to find answers to these questions 
 before assisting my patient across Styx.
 
 A CONFIDENTIAL PATIENT 197 
 
 Shortly after showing me his money, Michael 
 Stone had a bad attack of angina : I was 
 often at the house, and consequently had the 
 desired opportunity to become very friendly 
 with the somewhat stolid and unconversational 
 Polly. 
 
 1 ultimately made her talk, and one day 
 she confided in me that she knew her uncle 
 had money hidden in the house. 
 
 " I saw him put a big bag up the old 
 scullery chimney one night. The scullery is 
 never used, you know." 
 
 " Did you find out what was in the bag, 
 Polly ? " 
 
 "Yes, I did, doctor, it was sovereigns." 
 
 " Keep an eye on that bag, Polly," I said. 
 " It may be your fortune. But hasn't your 
 uncle got more than that put away ? " 
 
 " I haven't seen any more," she said. 
 " There's a lot of money there." 
 
 This was a most satisfactory conversation. 
 I could see my way clear. 
 
 I waste no time, when my way is straight, 
 my dear Lanner-Brown, and on the day 
 following my talk with Polly, I went to a 
 motor establishment, and after much talking 
 hired a small 12-14 horse-power car for a month. 
 
 I knew something of driving, but I obtained
 
 igS THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 the services of a chauffeur, who knew the 
 Httle car well, for a fortnight. 
 
 This deal, simple as it seemed, put the days 
 of Mr. Michael Stone in this unhappy world 
 at about twenty to thirty in number. 
 
 You see my plan ? 
 
 Stone was to die ; I was to remove the gold. 
 Polly was to have what I thought safe and 
 wise to leave. 
 
 The car turned out to be a little treasure, 
 and in a week I could do anything with her in 
 the way of driving. I dismissed the man ; and 
 for the future drove her myself. 
 
 I was now waiting. 
 
 Would the old man get ill, or had I to 
 make him so ? 
 
 He saved me the trouble. 
 
 Three weeks from the time I got the car 
 I also got my opportunity. 
 
 About half-past eight in the morning of the 
 day I mention, Polly sent me up a message, 
 " Would I come at once ? " 
 
 Would I come ! 
 
 I sent word to her, " I would drive over as 
 soon as I was dressed." 
 
 On arriving at the house, I left the car 
 well inside the ramshackle old gate, and went 
 right into the long, low sitting-room.
 
 A CONFIDENTIAL PATIENT 199 
 
 On a shaky and ancient horse-hair sofa lay 
 the miser, partly dressed. An expression of 
 extreme agony — the fearful pain of angina — 
 was on his face. The attack was a bad one — 
 he might possibly die without assistance. Good ! 
 
 "He is very bad," I said to Polly. "I 
 think I can relieve him for the time being, 
 but I want a prescription made up. Will you 
 go to the chemist, and get it ? " 
 
 " Yes, doctor, but what about uncle ? " 
 
 " Don't fear, I'll stay with him until you 
 return," I answered. I gave her a note to 
 give to the chemist — it was nothing important, 
 but it got her out of the way. 
 
 It took me twenty minutes to put about 
 five thousand pounds in gold into the car, and 
 then I started on a search through the out- 
 houses. 
 
 As I came back from my last journey I 
 thought I would look at my patient. 
 
 As I entered the door of the room in which 
 I had left him I felt a violent blow on my 
 head ; so severe was it that I dropped to the 
 floor. I was not, however, knocked right out, 
 and picking myself up, I looked round in a 
 dazed, half sensible kind of way, wondering 
 what had happened. 
 
 The figure of old Stone met my view. He
 
 200 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 was standing by the table — leaning on it with 
 one hand, the other holding the heavy stick 
 with which he had just attacked me. 
 
 His face was convulsed with fury. He tried 
 to speak, but only the inarticulate sounds 
 hissed out while he raised his stick as if to 
 attack me again. 
 
 He had recovered temporarily from his 
 seizure, although I could have sworn he was 
 safe for an hour. 
 
 I stepped over to him, and, by a strong 
 eflFort of will overcoming my repugnance at 
 touching him, removed the stick from his hand. 
 I had to use considerable force to take it, and 
 then he tried hard to bite me, slavering over 
 me in a most hateful manner that made me 
 cross, and I hit him over the head hard enough 
 to lay him out. 
 
 He dropped with a groan, and I immediately 
 picked him up and carried him to his sofa. 
 
 Now, time was of the essence of the con- 
 tract ; Polly would soon be back. 
 
 Firstly, out came my chief friend, the dear 
 little hypodermic, and into the shrivelled arm 
 of the unconscious man went enough strychnine 
 and cocaine for my purpose. 
 
 He should die in a fit. Then a run to the 
 motor to see the gold covered up safely.
 
 A CONFIDENTIAL PATIENT 201 
 
 Yes, all was well ! 
 
 Now to put the room tidy and conceal any 
 evidence of the unexpected conflict. 
 
 I looked at the old man's head. I had 
 made a nasty bump on it which showed 
 plainly. Why didn't the strychnine begin to 
 act ; then he could struggle and hurt himself ! 
 
 He must have more. He was still quite 
 quiet. Another injection and I sat down to 
 wait. 
 
 Was the infernal stuff never going to act ? 
 
 I decided to go and meet Polly and delay 
 her entrance to the room ; she was due to be 
 back. 
 
 I stopped her at the door, and said, " He's 
 quiet and peaceful now ; have you got the 
 medicine ? " 
 
 " Yes, doctor," she answered breathlessly. 
 
 At that moment, a fiendish scream rang 
 through the house, and we both rushed to the 
 old man. 
 
 He had started up from the sofa, and was 
 in the midst of a severe convulsion, which 
 very shortly brought his head and his heels 
 almost together. The strychnine was at work. 
 
 " Oh, how awful," said Polly ; " I never saw 
 him like that before." 
 
 I did not attempt any treatment when Polly
 
 202 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 was there, she could not then say anything to 
 my detriment in case any part of the day's 
 work was discovered. 
 
 Michael Stone was now dying rapidly, and 
 I told his niece this. 
 
 " I must go now," I said. " I am sorry I 
 cannot do anything more to help you — but — 
 but I will come over again later, and then 
 we must see about your affairs. I will do all 
 I can for you. Good-bye." 
 
 I was anxious to get the gold off the 
 premises, and I wasted no time in starting 
 the car. 
 
 I am not an expert in motors, and you can 
 imagine my horror when I found the thing 
 would not start. 
 
 Here was a pretty kettle of fish — after all 
 my care and scheming to find myself utterly 
 baulked by a beastly motor. 
 
 What was I to do ? 
 
 The gold must come out — a big business ; 
 and where was it to go ? 
 
 I glared around in an ecstasy of rage and 
 desperation. If Polly were not about ! I 
 retraced my steps to the house, and found the 
 girl watching the now rapidly dying man. 
 
 " Polly," I said, " my motor refuses to more ; 
 I must get a man out here to see to it. Will
 
 A CONFIDENTIAL PATIENT 203 
 
 you take a message for me, if I sit here and 
 look after your uncle ? " 
 
 " I couldn't leave him now, doctor," she 
 replied. " I hope you don't mind, but he's 
 been kind to me in his way, and I should like 
 to be with him till the end." 
 
 Nothing would go right. 
 
 "Very well," I answered. " I suppose I must 
 go myself, but don't leave him for a second. 
 You can't be too careful, Polly." 
 
 I went back to the old garden, and noticed 
 lying in the evergreen shrubs a rusty old roller 
 with a hollow drum. 
 
 This would do for a temporary hiding-place, 
 and I proceeded rapidly to transfer the many 
 bags of gold from the car to the interior of 
 the roller. I then covered the open ends with 
 some loose brambles, etc., and set off rapidly 
 to get some one who knew enough about the 
 vagaries of a car to come and help me. 
 
 When I returned in about an hour with a 
 mechanic I found that death had released the 
 wretched old man from his troubles. 
 
 I told the girl about her uncle's wishes, and 
 that all he had was to go to her, after my 
 bill had been paid. He owed no others. 
 
 " He's got his money hidden about, doctor. 
 Do you know where it is ? " she inquired.
 
 204 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 "No, Polly, I haven't an idea," I replied. 
 " But to-night, if you like, I will come over 
 and help you to find your fortune." 
 
 " Thank you very much ; you are so good 
 to me," she answered, her words punctuated 
 with sobs. 
 
 I drove back again after dark, and found 
 Polly restless and agitated ; she had not yet 
 found much money. 
 
 " I should so much like a cup of coffee, 
 and I expect it would do you good," I 
 suggested to her. 
 
 " I will make some at once," the girl 
 replied, and in a few minutes returned with it. 
 
 I had some laudanum with me in a small 
 glass phial, and took the opportunity of 
 putting a fair dose into her cup when her 
 back was turned. 
 
 I could not remove the gold in safety unless 
 this restless girl was kept quiet. 
 
 " I feel very tired, doctor. I think I won't 
 trouble you any more to-night," she said 
 before long, and we went back to the room 
 in which the miser had died, and in a few 
 moments Polly was in a chair — fast asleep. 
 
 Now to work again. It had been a long, 
 trying day — even my nervous system was 
 feeling strained, and when the gold was once
 
 A CONFIDENTIAL PATIENT 205 
 
 more aboard, and the 12-14 ^^^ ^^^^ running 
 smoothly home, I felt veiy thankful. 
 
 I saw Polly next day and she apologized for 
 sleeping in the way she did. 
 
 Two thousand pounds, which was the 
 amount she ultimately found, satisfied her 
 thoroughly, but duty was paid on it, despite 
 the wishes of the man who had collected and 
 hoarded it to so little effect. 
 
 I'm afraid my " legacy " didn't last long. 
 It's wonderful how money goes when you've 
 got it in your pocket — at least, so far as I'm 
 concerned.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 IN WHICH MRS. AUBEROn's SECRET IS REVEALED 
 
 T WONDER, my trusted friend, if you 
 ^ remember that September day when you, 
 after a consultation in Abingdon Road, 
 lunched at my house, and we opened that 
 bottle of most excellent '64 port which old 
 Glynn in Campden Hill had sent me ? 
 
 That same evening you, in your ignorance, 
 would insist upon seeing me off upon a 
 holiday from Charing Cross, though your 
 presence on the platform cost me a first-class 
 ticket to Paris. I tried to induce you not to 
 come, for I had no intention whatever of 
 going to the Continent. But you were inex- 
 orable, so I was compelled to buy a ticket and 
 travel as far as Dover, just because I wished 
 it to be thought that I had gone to Italy. 
 
 I had left young Saunderson in charge as 
 locum tenens. You will remember him — a tall, 
 dark, thin fellow, who drifted up and down 
 
 206
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 207 
 
 the country making love to every lady-patient 
 he came across. You will remember, too, how 
 hard-worked I had been with that epidemic 
 of influenza, and you yourself, who had just 
 been on holiday, suggested that I should run 
 out to Palermo. 
 
 I know that my face was pale and drawn, 
 and, by Jove, I think yours would have been 
 if you had been dreading the ugly revelation 
 of which I then stood in hourly fear. It was 
 a case of blackmail over a certain little affair. 
 Suffice it to say that one night I had received 
 a knock-down blow — a visit from a woman. 
 
 A third person knew sufficient to put me 
 into the dock at the Old Bailey ! 
 
 Phew ! I grow hot all over when I reflect 
 upon it. 
 
 Well, I decided upon having a much-needed 
 change, and, as you know, I left Charing 
 Cross by the night-mail for Dover. But 
 instead of crossing to Calais I slept the night 
 at the " Lord W*arden," and on the next after- 
 noon alighted at the quiet, little old-fashioned 
 town of Ashburton, which, perhaps you know, 
 is situated at the end of a branch fine from 
 Totnes, in Devonshire, and, being in close 
 proximity to the heather-clad slopes of breezy 
 Dartmoor, is very popular as a holiday centre.
 
 2o8 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 As I stepped upon the platform a smart 
 chauffeur met me, my traps were quickly 
 stowed into a powerful grey Daimler, and in 
 a few moments we were tearing along the 
 leafy Devonshire lanes, away in the direction 
 of the Moor. 
 
 I sat back with my cigarette and reflected. 
 
 This visit of mine was, indeed, a curious 
 one — as curious as the circumstances which 
 had induced it. 
 
 Perhaps I had better describe them. 
 
 One night, about three months before, just 
 as I had thrown down the evening paper with 
 thoughts of bed, the telephone bell rang, and 
 a woman's refined voice asked me to call at 
 an address in Queen's Gate, a few doors from 
 Old Brompton Road, which, as you know, is 
 a high-class neighbourhood about half a mile 
 from my house. Scenting a wealthy patient, 
 I promised to go at once, and on arrival 
 found the house a large, old-fashioned one, 
 drab painted, with porch and deep basement. 
 
 In the drawing-room, to which I was shown 
 by a grave, white-headed man-servant, I was 
 greeted by a rather handsome woman of 
 thirty in a dinner-gown of black satin and 
 sequins, reheved by a bunch of scarlet flowers 
 in the corsage.
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 209 
 
 " My husband has been taken very ill this 
 evening, Dr. d'Escombe," she said, after 
 thanking me for coming at that hour. " I would 
 be so very grateful if you would see him." 
 
 I bowed and expressed readiness to do all 
 in my power. Then, after a few minutes' 
 conversation, she told me that her name was 
 Auberon, and that they had come into the 
 neighbourhood quite recently. 
 
 As our eyes met I noted that she was 
 extremely handsome. I also knew instinctively 
 that she was endeavouring to make an im- 
 pression upon me. 
 
 Why is it, Brown, that women are so 
 fond of flirting with their doctor ? Ah ! How 
 many times has a pale, pinched face lying 
 upon a pillow " made eyes " at me ; how 
 many times has a convalescent patient, sitting 
 by her fire, put out a tiny foot and shapely 
 ankle for my admiration. And how many 
 times, too, has a woman sniggered provocatively 
 when I have held my stethoscope upon her 
 bared breast. 
 
 But enough ! You know me sufficiently well 
 to be aware that I am only a ladies'-man 
 when I have a distinct purpose in view. The 
 medical man who allows himself to fall beneath 
 the blandishments of his patients of the 
 
 14
 
 210- THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 opposite sex is instantly a lost soul. The 
 " dear doctor " must be ever wary, and 
 constantly on the look-out for pitfalls spread 
 before him by those who, eager for flirtation, 
 are not sufficiently bold enough to do it 
 outside their own homes. With the doctor, 
 the confidant of the family, a secret under- 
 standing is so very easy. 
 
 Towards Mrs. Auberon I preserved a purely 
 professional and correct attitude, and followed 
 her upstairs into the large, handsomely-furnished 
 room, where I found a grey, bald-headed man 
 in pink pyjamas, much older than herself, 
 lying in bed. 
 
 I was left alone with my patient. After a 
 few questions which he answered in a weak 
 voice, I made careful diagnosis, found a high 
 temperature, took a swab from the throat, 
 placed it in a sterile tube, and then promising 
 to send a mixture spoke some cheery words, 
 and left the room. 
 
 As I opened the door I distinctly heard the 
 jrou-jrou of disappearing skirts, and knew that 
 the sick man's wife had been listening at the 
 door. 
 
 Having descended the stairs to the dining- 
 room she soon joined me, all anxiety to 
 know my opinion.
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 211 
 
 "At present, Mrs. Auberon, I fear I cannot 
 say exactly what the complaint may be. But 
 I shall call to-morrow, and then I shall know 
 definitely," was my reply, and presently I left. 
 She sent the old butler with me for the 
 mixture, and as he walked at my side I tried 
 to learn what I could of his master and 
 mistress. 
 
 " I've only been with 'em a month, sir," 
 was the man's reply. " Mr. Auberon is a very 
 nice gentleman, but the missus don't get on 
 very well with young Mr. Edward. He's the 
 master's son by 'is first wife." 
 " Oh ! Where is he ? " I asked. 
 "At Canterbury. He's in the Army." 
 " And is Mr. Auberon comfortably off ? " 
 " Yes, doctor. I've heard from the servants 
 that about half the town of Torquay belongs 
 to 'im — or at least the ground it stands on." 
 " Do they quarrel f " 
 
 " Oh ! a bit. The master keeps a tight 'and 
 on the money, I fancy. He says she's 
 extravagant and, my eye, 'e's right. She's 
 never at 'ome — always in Paris, or somewhere," 
 he replied. 
 
 Arrived at my surgery, I concocted the 
 usual harmless mixture, and the old man 
 departed. 
 
 14*
 
 212 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Then I threw myself into my chair and Ht 
 a cigarette. 
 
 Yes. Whatever the situation was in the 
 Auberon household, the lady was certainly 
 very shrewd and clever. And that she had 
 attempted to fascinate me could not be 
 disguised. What did it mean ? 
 
 Next morning I was up early. I rubbed 
 the damp swab upon a cover-glass, dried it, 
 and stained it with methylene blue for a few 
 minutes. Then I washed the film, dried it, 
 mounted it and placed it beneath my micro- 
 scope. 
 
 No second glance was required to determine 
 the nature of the disease from which Mr. 
 Auberon was suffering. The bacilli were 
 present in characteristic form, those slender 
 rods, some straight, some slightly curved, their 
 thickness being slightly greater than the 
 tubercle bacillus — the indisputable proof of 
 diphtheria. 
 
 When I called an hour later I carried with 
 me some antidiphtheric serum. I was intro- 
 duced to Captain Edward Auberon, the sick 
 man's son, a tall, well-built fellow almost the 
 same age as his step-mother. 
 
 The wife introduced him, and to them I 
 told the result of my diagnosis. Both were
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 213 
 
 greatly alarmed, but I assured them that the 
 administration of the serum would quickly 
 arrest the progress of the malady, and that 
 we must hope for the best results. I 
 suggested the immediate engagement of a 
 nurse, and gave certain instructions to be 
 followed. 
 
 Suddenly Mrs. Auberon, addressing her step- 
 son, said : 
 
 '* Edward, I wish you would do me a 
 favour, dear. Go to the telephone and ask 
 Cox to come up and see your father at once. 
 He's been asking to see him." 
 
 " Cox," I ventured to exclaim. " Who is 
 he?" 
 
 " My husband's lawyer. He is worrying 
 about something or other. Of course, doctor, 
 you will not tell Henry what the malady is ? " 
 
 " Of course not, Mrs. Auberon," I replied, 
 looking straight into her dark eyes, for instinc- 
 tively I saw that she was longing to say 
 something, now that we were alone and the 
 door had closed. 
 
 " Do — do you honestly believe my husband 
 will recover ? " she asked in a curious strained 
 voice. 
 
 " I certainly believe so. The serum is 
 generally efficacious," was my reply.
 
 214 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Her lower lip stiffened slightly, so slightly, 
 indeed, that had I not been watching, I should 
 not have noticed it. 
 
 She was silent. Her gaze was fixed out of 
 the window. The pause was a rather awkward 
 one. Then suddenly, after watching her for a 
 few moments, I said with a smile : 
 
 " Forgive me, Mrs. Auberon, if I say that 
 you do not appear — well, exactly anxious for 
 your husband's recovery." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she cried, turning 
 upon me, her dark eyes flashing in resentment. 
 
 " Nothing," I replied grimly. " Only — well, 
 in some cases, you know, wives are a little 
 tired — just a trifle weary of married life. 
 That's all." 
 
 She bent forward in her chair, looking into 
 my face with a fierce, intense expression. 
 
 " Ah ! I see. Dr. d'Escombe — I see, now, 
 that you are not one of those canting 
 moralists, but a thorough-going man of the 
 world. You judge the world by the world's 
 standards. You have read the heart of a 
 woman. You — you have read mine ! " she 
 admitted. 
 
 A footstep sounded outside in the tiled hall, 
 and she started, fearing lest it should be the 
 Captain returning.
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 215 
 
 " Listen ! " she went on in a low, hoarse 
 whisper, glancing towards the door. " It is 
 true — true what you have surmised. I — I 
 confess it to you. Ah ! the horror of it all ! 
 But I can bear this life no longer. Henry has 
 driven me to desperation. Quick, there's no 
 time to lose if we are to come to an arrange- 
 ment — a purely business arrangement," and she 
 paused, suddenly growing quite calm. " You 
 have the tube of serum in your bag. What is 
 its price, Dr. d'Escombe ? " she whispered. 
 
 I was taken aback. She had fallen into the 
 net more quickly than I had anticipated. 
 
 " Five hundred pounds," I replied, naming 
 the figure that first entered my mind. I was 
 an arrant fool. I might just as well have said 
 a thousand. 
 
 " Done ! " she said. " Give it to me." 
 
 " No," I said, smiling. " I suppose you do 
 not keep such a sum in the house. So I shall 
 call again at five o'clock this afternoon to 
 administer the serum. If, by that time, you 
 have the cash ready to hand to me, I shall go 
 away — and forget to inject it. Or better," I 
 added, " I may perhaps inject something else." 
 
 "There will be no blunder?" she said 
 hoarsely. 
 
 " None — on my part."
 
 2i6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " And none on mine," was the woman's 
 hard reply. Her dark brows were sHghtly knit 
 and her Hps stiffened again. Ah ! how easily, 
 my dear Brown, will an evil woman, in these 
 days of rapid hving, buy a man's Hfe ! If you 
 had only seen half of the ugly side of matri- 
 mony as I have seen it you would be appalled 
 and thank your stars you are a bachelor. 
 
 Five hundred pounds is surely good pay for 
 a moment's forgetfulness. Therefore we smiled 
 at each other in perfect agreement, and I 
 ascended the stairs and visited my patient. 
 
 A very bad chill and swollen throat, I pro- 
 nounced it to be. 
 
 "My dear Mr. Auberon," I said, "don't 
 worry in the least. I hear you are troubling 
 yourself over business affairs. It is all to no 
 purpose. In a week I shall have you smoking 
 a cigar with me. Trust in me, and I'll pull 
 you through right enough. I've sent for a most 
 excellent nurse — a woman I can implicitly trust 
 — and you'll very quickly pull round again." 
 
 " You took something from my throat last 
 night, doctor. What did you find ? " he 
 asked, looking me straight in the face. 
 
 " I made the most minute microscopical 
 examination, and I found absolutely nothing 
 abnormal," was my airy response.
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 217 
 
 I suppose I must have chatted with him for 
 half an hour in the presence of his wife, and 
 he became quite satisfied. 
 
 " It's a good job, Dora, that it isn't any- 
 thing serious," he said laughing, as he fondly 
 took his wife's hand — the hand which intended 
 to murder him. " I really thought I was in 
 for something very bad." 
 
 " Yes, and so did I, dear. I've been worry- 
 ing all night," she replied. " But Dr. 
 d'Escombe declares that you'll be all right 
 again in a few days, and then we'll go down 
 to Coombe for a month or so. The moorland 
 air always does you so much good. So cheer 
 up, dearest, and be patient." And she pressed 
 his hot hand tenderly. 
 
 Her eyes met mine. Then I walked across 
 to the window. To save the man, the serum 
 should have been administered then and there. 
 I knew sufficient of diphtheria to be well 
 aware that at five o'clock it would probably 
 be too late, even if I then administered it. 
 
 The Captain entered the room, followed by 
 the nurse whom I had engaged by telephone. 
 To her, I gave instructions in the presence of 
 them both, and shortly afterwards, after calHng 
 the nurse aside and teUing her the true nature 
 of the case, I left the house.
 
 2i8 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I declare to you, old chap, that I walked back 
 home with a lighter gait than for fully three 
 months past. A firm of money-lenders were 
 bothering me over a little loan, and I wanted 
 money to settle with them. Therefore I had 
 raised no objection to selling my little tube of 
 serum for five hundred of " the best and 
 brightest." 
 
 I saw my patients as usual, and at the 
 appointed hour I had a stiff peg of whisky 
 and returned to Queen's Gate. 
 
 In the hall I met the Captain, who ac- 
 companied me to his father's room, and 
 watched my rather fussy investigations in 
 silence. 
 
 I wondered whether he entertained any 
 suspicion. 
 
 My attitude was, as before, one of cheerful 
 optimism. The patient was, I saw, con- 
 siderably worse than in the morning. He was 
 taking his mixture regularly, but I fear it was 
 not calculated to do him very much good. 
 A glass of water would have been equally 
 efficacious. 
 
 The Captain called me outside into the 
 corridor and suggested that a second medical 
 man should be called into consultation. 
 
 " Certainly," I said. " I have not the
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 219 
 
 slightest objection. My own idea is that the 
 best course would be to inject the anti- 
 diphtheric serum this evening and call in a 
 second opinion to-morrow morning." 
 
 Delay was what I required. 
 
 My frank response satisfied him, and he 
 named Heston Forsyth, a very good man 
 living in Cavendish Square. Therefore I 
 promised to telephone an appointment with 
 him. 
 
 I was eager to have a private chat with 
 Mrs. Auberon, but to my dismay, discovered 
 that she was out. She had gone out on a 
 business message for her sick husband, and 
 would not return before seven. 
 
 Having learnt this, I decided to come back 
 at seven and inject the serum. 
 
 Had the woman repented ? Did she fear 
 lest I might give her away ? I walked back to 
 my surgery with mixed feelings of anger and 
 disappointment. A note lay upon my table, 
 and I opened and read it with satisfaction. 
 
 I had not, however, been indoors half an 
 hour when a patient was announced, and on 
 entering the waiting-room with my best pro- 
 fessional smile, I found Mrs. Auberon. 
 
 " I came here, doctor," she exclaimed in a 
 low, half-frightened voice when she was seated
 
 220 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 in my consulting room with the door closed. 
 " I came, because I feared that Edward might 
 overhear, or have his suspicions aroused. Have 
 you made the injection ? " she inquired 
 quickly. 
 
 " Not yet. I have promised Captain Auberon 
 to return at seven, in order to do so. He 
 wishes Heston Forsyth to see his father in the 
 morning." 
 
 " And what then ? " she gasped, staring 
 
 straight at me. 
 
 "Why, nothing," I laughed. "That is if 
 you are in the same mind as you were this 
 morning." 
 
 " My mind is unchanged," she promptly 
 replied with resolution. " I am here prepared 
 to buy the serum," and from her hand-bag 
 she produced a small roll of crisp bank-notes — 
 the price of her husband's life. 
 
 In silence I took them, counted them, and 
 in return handed over to her the little tube 
 from my bag. 
 
 " But — but, doctor," she whispered hoarsely 
 as she held it in her hand. " You will inject 
 something — or Edward may grow suspicious." 
 
 " Of course, I shall," I replied, smiling. 
 " The first question that Heston Forsyth will 
 ask will be whether I have done so."
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 221 
 
 " Then you will be at the house at seven, 
 eh ? " she asked, rising from her chair, her 
 handsome face pale and hard-set. 
 
 " I shall," was my brief response. 
 
 Then, as she put out her hand to me in 
 farewell, I suddenly fixed her with my eyes 
 and said : 
 
 " As we now understand each other so 
 perfectly, Mrs. Auberon, I wonder that you 
 are not entirely frank with mc." 
 
 " Frank with you ! What do you mean ? " 
 she exclaimed in surprise. 
 
 " Well, you might, for instance, acknowledge 
 the motive of this little affair — that another 
 man, Mr. Paul Taylor, is anxious to marry you 
 in the event of your husband's non-recovery." 
 
 " How did you know that ? " she gasped, 
 her face blanched to the lips. 
 
 " I learnt it to-day," I said, quite coolly. 
 " You left the house at three o'clock and kept 
 an appointment with Taylor in the Burmese 
 Tea Rooms, in Bond Street. Afterwards you 
 went to a mourning warehouse in Regent 
 Street, where you were measured for a gown, 
 though you did not actually order one. Taking 
 time by the forelock, Mrs. Auberon, eh ? " 
 
 " You have had me watched ! " she cried 
 resentfully.
 
 222 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " And surely there is no harm in it all," 1 
 declared. " When dealing with a stranger it is 
 usual, in every business, to make some inquiries. 
 We are still friends, I hope." And I put out 
 my hand. 
 
 She grasped it and, laughing a little nervously, 
 declared that I had been a trifle too in- 
 quisitive. 
 
 " But never mind. Dr. d'Escombe. I 
 trust you implicitly. You will call at seven," 
 she added. 
 
 Then I bowed her out, extremely glad to 
 rid myself of her presence. 
 
 The notes I locked away in my writing- 
 table, and having prepared another tube of a 
 perfectly harmless serum, I attended at Queen's 
 Gate punctually at seven o'clock. 
 
 Again the Captain met me, pale and anxious, 
 and in his presence the nuise declared that the 
 patient v/as rapidly growing worse. 
 
 " I feel no alarm," I said. " I shall give 
 the injection, and he should pull round within 
 the next four hours." 
 
 So I ascended to the room and used my 
 little hypodermic, filled with a perfectly harm- 
 less liquid, in the presence of the nurse, whom 
 I intended should be my witness in case of 
 any awkward inquiry.
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 223 
 
 Below, in the drawing-room, sat Mrs. 
 Auberon full of anxiety. She plied, me with 
 so many questions that I was compelled to 
 admit to myself that she was a most admir- 
 able actress. I noted with satisfaction, too, 
 that whatever might be the strained relations 
 between son and step-mother, the former had 
 no suspicion of the manoeuvre in progress. 
 
 I used the Auberons' telephone to speak 
 with Heston Forsyth, and made an appoint- 
 ment to meet him there at eleven o'clock next 
 morning. For four hours I remained in the 
 house, visiting my patient many times, and 
 noting his progress. I declared his condition 
 to be ameliorated, though, truth to tell, he 
 was growing from bad to worse. 
 
 Well, to cut a long story short, when Heston 
 Forsyth came he saw, at first glance, that the 
 case was a very serious one, but as I had 
 injected the serum and given the drugs usual 
 in such cases, nothing more could be done. 
 
 We were together in the sick-room for over 
 an hour, and afterwards meeting Mrs. Auberon 
 and her step-son in the drawing-room he gave 
 out a quantity of professional patter and con- 
 cluded by assuring them : 
 
 " You can, I feel certain, rest assured that 
 Dr. d'Escombe's treatment is the very best
 
 224 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 that could have been adopted. I agree en- 
 tirely with everything he has done, and we 
 can only now hope for a speedy recovery." 
 
 I glanced at the sick man's wife, but she 
 instantly averted her gaze. 
 
 The Captain was quite re-assured, and 
 Heston Forsyth, having pocketed his fee, drove 
 away. 
 
 The inevitable occurred rather sooner than 
 I expected, for I was called up on the 'phone 
 at one o'clock one morning, and before I 
 could get round, Mr. Auberon had passed to 
 that land that lies beyond the human ken. 
 
 So next day I signed the death-certificate, 
 and two days later his remains were followed 
 by his sorrowing widow and son and a number 
 of friends to their last resting-place in Woking 
 Cemetery. 
 
 In a month, my dear Brown, I had for- 
 gotten all about the affair. I possess a faculty 
 for forgetfulness that is often very convenient. 
 Cocaine and soda have washed many a nasty 
 taste from my mouth. 
 
 Late one night, about eight or nine weeks 
 afterwards, I was reading the evening paper 
 before going to bed when a patient was shown 
 into my consulting-room. 
 
 It proved to be Mrs. Auberon. She looked
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 225 
 
 veiy elegant, for her deep black suited her 
 well. 
 
 " Dr. d'Escombe," she began in a low, 
 frightened voice, scarce above a whisper. " I 
 — I'm in peril. I " 
 
 " What ! " I gasped, starting up. " Is it 
 known ? " 
 
 " Not exactly. Wait, and I will explain the 
 situation," she said as she bent eagerly towarcis 
 me. " On my husband's death I found, quite 
 contrary to my expectations, that I was left 
 with ten thousand a year, together with 
 Coombe Manor, our place in South Devon. I 
 believed that it had all gone to Edward, and 
 that I should only have a hfe-interest. And 
 secondly — well, I found that Mr. Taylor 
 and myself were not exactly suited to each 
 other." 
 
 " I'm very sorry for that," I said. " I 
 believed that you were devoted to each other." 
 
 " So we were — but — well, little differences 
 arose between us, because — because — I may as 
 well confess it — because I found out, by mere 
 chance, who and what he really was." 
 
 " And what was he ? "" 
 
 " A pure adventurer." 
 
 " Phew ! " and I emitted a long breath. 
 
 '' And worse," she went on. " In a foolish 
 
 15
 
 226 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 moment of indiscretion during my husband's 
 illness I unfortunately told him that he would 
 not get better — that you and I were in accord, 
 and that I had bought the bottle of serum." 
 
 " My God, woman ! " I cried, starting to 
 my feet. " Are you a howHng imbecile ? " 
 
 "You are right!" she gasped. "I was. 
 I've paid for it — paid for it dearly ever since. 
 He's had three thousand pounds from me 
 already." 
 
 •'You're an infernal fool, Mrs. Auberon," I 
 declared openly. " And you deserve what 
 you've got." 
 
 " I know ! I know ! " she cried in sheer 
 despair. " But your peril is equal with mine. 
 I've paid in order to save you, as well as to 
 save myself. He threatens to put the whole 
 matter before Edward. If he does, then we 
 are lost. What can I do ? " 
 
 " Do ? Why, pay him a lump sum and get 
 rid of him." 
 
 "And if I do so he will then commence to 
 blackmail you." 
 
 " What does he really know ? " I asked 
 calmly. 
 
 " Everything. I was a fool, and believing 
 we were to be man and wife, told him every- 
 thing."
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 227 
 
 * He can prove nothing." 
 
 " Ah, yes he can," she replied. " I paid 
 you in notes. He knows that. He knows 
 that I got those notes from my bank. I 
 suppose you paid them into yours ? " 
 
 I was a fool to have done so. But all 
 seemed so clear and easv at the time that I 
 had not taken my usual precaution to change 
 them at Cook's into foreign money, and then 
 back into English currency at the bank. 
 
 What the woman said was only too true. 
 Thanks to her foolish confession we were both 
 in an uncommonly tight corner, 
 
 " Well, what is to be done ? " I asked, 
 clasping my hands behind my back. 
 
 " Done ? What can we do ? If I pay him 
 off, he will come to you." 
 
 " How much does he want ? " 
 
 " He will name no fixed price. He laughs 
 in my face and says that he intends that I 
 shall provide him with an income for life." 
 
 I pulled a grimace. 
 
 *' I suppose he'll come to me before very 
 long, eh ? " 
 
 " No doubt he will. But 
 before that. Dr. d'Escombe. 
 suspect that I have seen you." 
 
 " Act. How ? " 
 
 we 
 
 must 
 
 act 
 
 He 
 
 must 
 15* 
 
 not
 
 228 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Well," and she hesitated, her fine dark 
 eyes turned upon mine. " Well — do you leave 
 it to me to suggest a way out ? " she asked 
 slowly. 
 
 " You did so on a previous occasion," I 
 remarked. 
 
 A silence fell between us, broken only by 
 the loud solemn tick of the old grandfather's 
 clock in the corner. 
 
 " He is coming to visit me at Coombe next 
 Saturday. Perhaps he — well, he might be 
 taken seriously ill during his stay with me. 
 Who knows ? " 
 
 And in her eyes showed a queer, eager look. 
 She was a woman of nerve and determination. 
 
 " Why is he visiting you ? " 
 
 '■ It is a purely friendly visit — to talk over 
 the future. By tacit agreement our engage- 
 ment is at an end, of course." 
 
 " He has no love for you, eh ? " 
 
 " None. He never had. He was after my 
 money — by fair means or foul. That's all." 
 
 " And when he has bled you for all you are 
 worth, he will just go to the Captain and tell 
 him the whole story." 
 
 " That is my firm belief. For that reason I 
 make the suggestion that certain means — may 
 — be — found — eh ? "
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 229 
 
 And as she whispered the words slowly, she 
 gknced around the room as though in fear of 
 eavesdroppers. 
 
 I was silent. I was lighting a cigarette. 
 
 " I thought, perhaps, you might run down 
 to Coombe," she went on, watching me. "' I 
 go down to-morrow morning, and you could 
 follow me the day after. You, on your part, 
 might pretend to go on a holiday, and come 
 to me in secret instead." 
 
 " But Taylor may be watching my move- 
 ments. If so, he will be aware of your visit 
 here to-night ! " 
 
 " I think not. I have no fear of that. He's 
 in Scotland. Say that you will come." 
 
 " Well — I will do so, if vou wish to consult 
 me professionally." 
 
 " I do. But I don't want you to cure any 
 disease. I want you to give one — 'you under- 
 stand ? " and she grinned. 
 
 " Perfectly. You think that in our mutual 
 interests this fellow's mouth must be effectually 
 closed ? " I said quite coolly. 
 
 " You follow me exactly, doctor. Think 
 matters over carefully between now and Tues- 
 day, and make preparations to go for a holiday 
 — perhaps to the Continent. Instead of doing 
 so come down to me. Come as Mr. Fryer,
 
 230 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 my solicitor. None of my old servants are 
 with me now." 
 
 I promised. Then she drank the glass of 
 brandy-and-soda I mixed for her, and I saw 
 her into the taxi which was waiting. 
 
 My hat, Brown ! Imagine my feelings 
 when she had gone. Here I was, once more, 
 in an infernal hole, merely on account of a 
 hysterical woman. 
 
 And the only way out of that impasse was 
 by some subtle manoeuvre whereby the man 
 who knew would be placed hors-de-combat. 
 
 For hours I paced my room that night, 
 turning matters carefully over, and trying to 
 arrive at some conclusion as to the best means 
 to adopt to achieve our sinister end. 
 
 You came in. Brown, to ask me about that 
 testimonial to the organist at St. Stephen's, 
 you will remember, and I put down my couple 
 of guineas, which you thought so very generous 
 where church work was concerned, did you not ? 
 It pays a medical man to be known among his 
 patients as a good churchgoer. You know that 
 quite well. 
 
 As Mr. Basil Fryer, solicitor, I duly arrived 
 at Ashburton, after your unwelcome attention 
 had sent me down to Dover, and after half an 
 hour in the car I found myself at a big, old
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 231 
 
 country-mansion overlooking Dartmoor, where 
 my clever hostess greeted me warmly. 
 
 We dined together tete-a-tete in the fine 
 oak-panelled room, and afterwards we were 
 closeted in the library, the servants having 
 previously been informed of my professional 
 capacity. 
 
 " He will occupy the room you now have," 
 she said at last in a low voice, as she crouched 
 near the fire, her dark, wonderful eyes fixed upon 
 me. " I leave it to you to devise some means." 
 
 " While dressing to-night I made an ex- 
 amination of the room, hardly knowing what 
 course to adopt. But a plan occurred to me 
 at dinner. I shall explain it to-morrow, before 
 I leave for London." 
 
 " No. Tell me now. I am all anxiety. Is 
 there any chance of failure ? " 
 
 " I think not, Mrs. Auberon," was my quiet 
 reply. " We both of us have far too much at 
 stake to court disaster. But — well, may I speak 
 quite frankly ? " 
 
 " Certainly. Are we not friends ? " 
 
 " I am about to perform you a service, and 
 well — one generally expects payment for such 
 dehcate work — not much, of course, but — just 
 a sHght acknowledgment. Say a sum equal to 
 that before, eh ? "
 
 232 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 The woman looked very straight at me, and 
 her chest heaved just a httle, causing her 
 diamond pendant to ghtter. 
 
 " Five hundred," she remarked. " Well, if 
 you really must have it I will give you a 
 cheque when the affair is complete." 
 
 " I merely suggest it," I said. " I think 
 that the little matter is worth that to you — 
 is it not ? " 
 
 " You are equally implicated," she exclaimed. 
 
 " But without motive. You had a motive, 
 remember." 
 
 " You are equally culpable with me." 
 
 " That, unfortunately, does not alter the cir- 
 cumstances that I am just a little pushed for 
 money," I laughed. " We doctors have, alas ! 
 to live beyond our incomes all the time. I 
 think you will quite understand that I'm really 
 in need of another five hundred." 
 
 " And that is all, remember." 
 
 " The last penny I shall suggest." 
 
 " You will have the cheque on the day of 
 the unfortunate event," she said, and we rose 
 and passed into the big drawing-room where 
 she seated herself at the grand piano, and 
 played several airs from the latest musical 
 comedy. 
 
 I wanted to get away from the place, for I
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 233 
 
 had been seized by a desire for a Continental 
 holiday after all. Saunderson was looking after 
 things — his eye ever upon the lady patients — 
 and with five hundred I could have a merry 
 time for a week or two. 
 
 At last I bent over her hand and she left 
 me, while I strolled along to the smoking-room, 
 where the butler served my whisky-and-soda 
 with great stateliness. 
 
 Then, after an excellent cigar, I ascended 
 to my room. 
 
 Next morning, when I dressed I used the 
 cake of soap from my dressing-case, in 
 preference to the brand-new cake which I 
 found in the soap-dish upon the dressing-room 
 wash-stand. 
 
 By eight o'clock I had had my tub and was 
 fully dressed. Therefore, I turned my careful 
 attention to the dark brown cake of soap — a 
 highly-perfumed tablet of a well-advertised 
 variety. Fortunately for me, it possessed no 
 antiseptic qualities. Therefore, with greatest 
 care, I opened a small tube of culture which 
 I had brought with me, and, with a camel-hair 
 brush, lightly painted it over the surface of 
 the soap. 
 
 It dried quickly, and I replaced it in its 
 dish.
 
 234 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Those few strokes of the tiny brush had 
 rendered that unsuspicious-looking cake of soap 
 as deadly as the bite of a cobra. The culture 
 was in glucose bouillon, and if any inquisitive 
 person had smelt the soap he would have 
 detected a peculiar burnt odour of the 
 particular bacillus which I had employed. 
 These, if submitted to the microscope, would 
 have been found to be of drumstick form, 
 slender organisms developing filamentous forms 
 which could be easily identified by an expert 
 in " bugs." 
 
 Truly a knowledge of bacteriology is of 
 greatest use to the medical man ! 
 
 Mrs. Auberon appeared at breakfast, fresh 
 and charming in a neat grey gown of the 
 latest mode, and surely no one would suspect 
 her of being haunted by that terrible dread of 
 exposure. Her face betrayed not the slightest 
 anxiety, and it was with superb coolness that, 
 when later on we were alone in the morning- 
 room, she asked : 
 
 " Well, doctor, what are your plans ? " 
 
 "They are already laid," I rephed. "Allow 
 your visitor to have my dressing-room — exactly 
 as it is at present, nothing touched. Give 
 careful instructions to the maids, and then 
 treat your friend diplomatically for say four,
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 235 
 
 or even five, days. Allow him to believe that 
 you are again ready to be bled. That will 
 disarm him." 
 
 " And then ? " she asked, still without a 
 muscle of her face moving, as she stood near 
 the fire-place. 
 
 " Wait and see," I replied with a grim 
 smile. " Remember that clean water may be 
 placed in the ewer and the bottle, but nothing 
 else on the wash-stand must be touched — 
 nothing whatever." 
 
 " Your instructions shall be carried out to 
 the very letter," she declared. " But what 
 may I expect ? " 
 
 " After five days you may expect the 
 inevitable," I said. " And if it occurs, I can 
 have my cheque at once — eh ? " 
 
 " Certainly, the same day, I promise you. 
 But — but if we fail ? " 
 
 " No," I said. " We cannot fail. I have 
 accomplished my part of the affair. The rest 
 must be left to you to entertain your visitor, 
 and disarm all suspicion." 
 
 "You are really very mysterious," she 
 declared, with a laugh. 
 
 " Am I ? Well, in such a case it is as well 
 sometimes not to be too open. You will learn 
 the result of my efforts quite quickly enough.
 
 236 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I think you said my train left Ashburton at 
 half-past eleven ? " I added. 
 
 She glanced at the clock, and ringing the 
 bell, told the man to get my bag. I was 
 anxious to get back to town again, and leave 
 for Paris by the night mail. The five hundred 
 pounds were now as good as in my hand. 
 
 As I drove away in the car she stood in 
 the old stone porch, and waved her hand 
 merrily in farewell. By Jove ! She was a 
 really remarkable woman. Her self-control 
 was unequalled. 
 
 I went first to Geneva, and then south to 
 Naples, on my way to Palermo. 
 
 At the hotel at Naples I received a hastily- 
 scribbled note from her to say that Taylor 
 had been stricken by some mysterious disease. 
 She did not trust to the telegraph, in fear 
 lest the message should be brought up against 
 her. 
 
 I smiled as I read her hasty scrawl in 
 pencil. There are few men who have not 
 some slight abrasion of the skin upon their 
 hands or do not shave so closely that the 
 blood is drawn. Upon a broken skin the 
 slightest use of that tablet of soap would 
 produce an effect as deadly as a knife wound 
 in the heart.
 
 MRS. AUBERON'S SECRET 237 
 
 Six days later, as I entered the hall of the 
 pretty Hotel Igiea, at Palerno, the hall-porter 
 handed me a letter which, he said, had 
 arrived only that morning. 
 
 It was from Mrs. Auberon, who regretted 
 to inform me that her guest had, on the day 
 of writing, unfortunately died of tetanus. 
 
 Enclosed was a cheque in payment of my 
 account. 
 
 And that cheque, my dear fellow, was for 
 the sum agreed — five hundred pounds. 
 
 Without a doubt, the fatal illness of Paul 
 Taylor saved us both from a very unpleasant 
 experience. 
 
 And it paid all the expenses of my Conti- 
 nental holiday.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 IN WHICH THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY IS 
 EXPLAINED 
 
 A/'OU will, perhaps, recall, my dear Brown 
 one warm evening when you met me in 
 the lounge of the Empire Theatre. I was 
 wuh a thin, pasty-faced boy of nineteen in 
 dinner-clothes, and with tuberculosis written 
 plainly upon his countenance. You had just 
 come back to London that day, after a month 
 in Switzerland. 
 
 That night, I recollect, you chided me for 
 ordering absinthe in the bar. I was highly 
 amused. You believed, just as the world 
 believed, that I was a staid and sober family- 
 practitioner. Not so long ago such men as 
 you and I wore coats of broad-cloth, like the 
 family-lawyer, or the undertaker. Truly ours 
 is a smug profession still, though we no longer 
 affect the broadcloth and have exchanged the 
 silk hat for the vulgar " bowler " of commerce.
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 239 
 
 I remember how that night you described 
 to me the merry " carryings-on " of some 
 members of a musical comedy company you 
 had met at Zermatt, and you invited me to tea 
 at the " Carlton" with two of your lady-friends. 
 
 True, I took absinthe that night. Three 
 hours before — in the Cafe de I'Europe next 
 door — I had taught the boy how to drink it 
 — with a motive. 
 
 Well, I suppose I may as well tell you the 
 story now that I have laid bare to you the 
 secrets of my eventful life. Patients repose 
 confidence in me, men of my own profession 
 like yourself consult me, and women call me 
 their " dear doctor." I wear a mask — as 
 impenetrable as the Sphinx, I believe. And yet, 
 Brown, I daily curse myself as a brute — and 
 worse. 
 
 But a man must Hve in these hard times. 
 The profession is over-crowded. Y'ou fellows, 
 who lead a merry easy-going life at sea, away 
 from letters and duns, with an ever-changing 
 crowd of passengers and an " old man " who 
 winks at your flirtations, can never fully reahze 
 the dreary drudgery of the unfortunate devil 
 who practises medicine. 
 
 Nobody dreams that I practise a special — 
 a very special — branch of it, namely toxicology.
 
 240 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Yes, I practise it as other men practise bone- 
 setting or surgical operations. I know my 
 drugs, I know my doses, and, best of all, I 
 know the effects — all by practise. But, un- 
 fortunately, the patients I have been compelled 
 to practise upon till I had attained proficiency 
 have, in many cases, been carried to their 
 grave, and there interred upon my own 
 certificate. 
 
 But I was telling you of the boy Ronald 
 Snell, who was with me that night in the 
 Empire. 
 
 Well, it happened in this way. 
 
 One August morning, about half-past ten 
 o'clock, I was in the surgery of my old friend, 
 Doctor Thring, in Alexandra Road, St. John's 
 Wood. He had been called up to Dundee to 
 see^'his brother who was dying, and had wired 
 asking me to look after his practice for three 
 days. He had a large one in and around 
 Regent's Park, Chalk Farm, Kilburn and 
 Hampstead, and in addition held the office 
 of divisional surgeon of police. I had known 
 him ever since our old days at Guy's, where 
 Golding-Bird had picked him out as a coming 
 surgeon — and so he was. He had already 
 made his mark, while I — well, I had, perhaps, 
 left my mark in another direction.
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 241 
 
 I had just finished a batch of patients when 
 the maid entered, telling me that a poHce- 
 inspector in plain clothes wished to see me, and 
 I, ot course, gave orders for him to be admitted. 
 
 He was a dark-bearded, broad-shouldered 
 man in a dark grey suit and a green Homburg 
 hat, and on entering he told me that his 
 name was Inspector Wills of the headquarters 
 of the S Division of Metropolitan PoUce at 
 Hampstead. 
 
 " I've called, doctor, to ask you to accom- 
 pany us to a house in Avenue Road," he 
 said. " Half an hour ago we received this by 
 post at the station," and he handed me a 
 single sheet of note-paper, upon which the 
 following words were type-written : 
 
 " IJ the Superintendent oj Police zvill have 
 search made at Barons tnere House, Avenue 
 Road, he will make a discovery. Circumstances 
 have jorced the writer to take his lije, rather 
 than jace exposure and bear the punishment. " 
 
 " Suicide, eh ? " I remarked, handing back 
 the letter to the inspector. '' Very well, I'll 
 come with you." 
 
 And I put on my hat and went forth into 
 the road, where a constable in plain 
 clothes — whose name I afterwards learnt was 
 Saunders — stood awaiting us. 
 
 16
 
 242 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 A short walk through Boundary Road and 
 St. John's Wood Park brought us into Avenue 
 Road, where, half-way down on the left, Wills 
 halted, saying : 
 
 " Here we are. This is the house — the 
 house of the mystery ! I wonder what we 
 shaU find ! " 
 
 " The place has been to let furnished for 
 nearly a year, sir," Saunders remarked. " See ! 
 the board is still up. I was on this beat 
 three months ago and, funnily enough, one 
 night, though the place was closed, I could 
 have sworn that I saw a light in one of those 
 upper windows. But afterwards I decided 
 that it was only a reflection upon the 
 glass." 
 
 The house, a large old-fashioned detached 
 one, stood back behind a high wall. Above 
 its iron gate was displayed a weather-worn 
 board, announcing that the place was to let 
 furnished, while, seen from the road, the 
 premises bore a faded, neglected air. The 
 garden-paths were weedy, the beds entangled 
 and over-grown, while the yellow blinds, all 
 of which were drawn, were limp, dirty and 
 discoloured. 
 
 Smartly painted well-kept houses were on 
 either side, their gardens bright with geraniums,
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 243 
 
 dahlias and flowering creepers, therefore the 
 dwelling in question looked very shabby and 
 neglected in contrast. 
 
 My two companions, who had stopped before 
 the gate, glanced apprehensively up and down 
 the road, for they did not wish to attract 
 attention in entering. 
 
 " It certainly does look a house of mystery," 
 I said, when, after pretending to chat together 
 at the kerb for a few moments, the inspector 
 suddenly unlatched the gate and stepped 
 inside the neglected garden. 
 
 Wills leisurely ascended the dirty moss-grown 
 front steps ; I following, while his subordinate 
 went round to the servants' entrance. Then 
 Wills pulled the big knob. 
 
 The bell could be heard clanging loudly 
 within. But there was no response. 
 
 Another bell rang. It was Saunders at the 
 back door. 
 
 Again and again the two officers rang and 
 knocked, but nothing stirred, though both 
 men stood listening intently, their ears strained 
 at the doors. 
 
 I glanced around and there saw traces of 
 recent footsteps where we stood. There was 
 the mark of a muddy boot upon the step of 
 the door. It must have been made by some 
 
 16*
 
 244 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 intruder a month before, because no rain 
 had fallen in London during that period. 
 
 Upon the steps, and in the garden, were 
 wisps of straw and pieces of waste paper, the 
 drift of the London street, blown there by the 
 wind. Old boots and rags, tossed over the 
 wall, lay about, and amid the tangle some 
 stunted roses, defying the disorder, were 
 blooming. 
 
 In a few moments we went to the rear of 
 the premises, and at the inspector's orders 
 Saunders produced from his pocket a putty 
 knife, and made an attempt to push back the 
 catch of the scullery window. But the sash 
 could not be lifted. It had been secured by 
 two long screws passing through the sashes. 
 
 Three windows we tried, and each gave the 
 same result, whereupon the inspector said ; 
 " We must force the door." 
 
 From his inner pocket Saunders produced a 
 short but business-like steel jemmy of the 
 type used by burglars — indeed, it was, they 
 told me, one which had been found upon a 
 member of that fraternity — and quickly com- 
 menced work upon the back door. 
 
 At first he could make no impression upon 
 it, but after about ten minutes there was a 
 sound of the cracking of wood, and the
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 245 
 
 sockets of the bolts being wrenched off under 
 the leverage, the door flew open. Then we 
 all three entered. 
 
 The kitchen showed signs of recent 
 occupancy, for upon the table stood dirty 
 plates and dishes, while in the range were 
 dead cinders, and upon it stood several dirty 
 pots and pans, showing that a meal had 
 recently been cooked there. 
 
 " I always thought the house was empty ! " 
 exclaimed Saunders. 
 
 "We have it on the list as unoccupied," 
 declared the inspector. " Waoever is here 
 certainly has no right to be. Let's go on." 
 
 We ascended the kitchen stairs and searched 
 the ground-floor rooms, finding a large, old- 
 fashioned, heavily-furnished dining-room, where 
 stood the remains of a meal of which three 
 persons had partaken. The drawing-room 
 furniture was covered with a pretty pink-and- 
 white chintz of old design, while the hbrary 
 was cosy and well appointed. 
 
 In the bright sunshine of that August 
 morning, however, the place presented a very 
 dirty and neglected appearance. As Saunders 
 drew up the blinds, dirt and disorder were 
 everywhere revealed. The place had not been 
 cleaned for many months, and the neglect
 
 246 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 became the more apparent when we ascended 
 the wide, well-carpeted staircase to the bed- 
 rooms above. Searching one room after 
 another, we saw that all the beds had been 
 slept in, the soiled bed-linen having been 
 flung back without the beds being re-made. 
 
 Entering one of the front rooms, both men 
 gave vent to an ejaculation of surprise, for 
 there, in the semi-darkness, lay the crouching 
 figure of a man upon the carpet near the 
 fire-place. 
 
 Saunders drew up the blind, allowing the 
 sunlight to stream in, when several strange 
 features became revealed. The dead man's 
 face, as he lay turned towards them, was 
 white as marble, but shrivelled and distorted 
 out of all recognition, while grasped in his 
 hand was a heavy Browning revolver, one 
 chamber of which had been discharged, the 
 tell-tale bullet having lodged just above the 
 heart. 
 
 I fell upon my knees and quickly examined 
 him. 
 
 " Suicide ! " I said at last. " He's been 
 dead nine or ten hours, I should say." 
 
 " He's quite unrecognizable. Dr. d'Es- 
 combe," remarked Wills. " I've seen a good 
 many suicides in my time, but I've never seen
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 247 
 
 such a transformation in the face before. 
 Look at his eyes. They are narrow and drawn 
 — Kke a Chinaman's ! " 
 
 " Yes," I answered, calmly reflectmg. I saw 
 at once that the case was a mysterious one, 
 though I kept my own counsel. 
 
 I judged the deceased to be about thirty. 
 He was in well-cut evening clothes, and wore 
 upon his finger a fine ruby ring, while in his 
 shirt-front were two diamond studs. 
 
 Quickly the two police-officers bent and 
 searched the body, establishing the fact that 
 the tabs bearing the tailor's name had been 
 cut out of the man's clothes, thus revealing a 
 determination upon his part not to be 
 identified. 
 
 " He'd committed some crime and feared 
 arrest," I remarked ; " that is quite apparent 
 from his letter. Therefore, he has taken every 
 precaution to conceal his identity." 
 
 " Didn't wish to bring scandal and disgrace 
 upon his friends, I suppose," said Wills. 
 " We'll search the room, Saunders." 
 
 Then, as he turned towards the dressing- 
 table, he saw, lying upon it, a note, addressed 
 also in type-writing, " To the Police." 
 
 He tore it open and within found a twenty- 
 pound note, together with a slip of paper,
 
 248 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 upon which were the words : " To defray the 
 cost of my interment in Woking Cemetery." 
 
 I was at that moment crossing the room, 
 when my eye caught a small ball of paper, 
 which had been screwed up and fiung into the 
 fire-place. 
 
 I picked it up and on smoothing it out, 
 found the words, written in a bold, round hand : 
 
 " Riddle : — The Wasp can no longer sting.^^ 
 
 Wills, to whom I handed it, read and re- 
 read the cryptic words. 
 
 " I wonder what that means, doctor ? Can 
 this be the wasp ? " he asked, glancing at the 
 dead man. " Or did he wish to show his 
 defiance of somebody known as ' The Wasp ' 
 — that he can no longer be stung by him ! " 
 
 " ' The Wasp ' is perhaps some spiteful 
 person," I remarked. 
 
 "Yes," replied the inspector; "there seems 
 a good deal of mystery regarding this afltair." 
 
 Both my companions made a tour of the 
 bedrooms, and the attics upstairs, but dis- 
 covered nothing else to attract their attention. 
 Saunders was sent to the station to report the 
 gruesome find. 
 
 When he had gone Wills unlocked the front- 
 door, and then re-ascended with me to where 
 the dead man lay.
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 249 
 
 He was, I found, a careful and painstaking 
 officer, popular with his men, but not par- 
 ticularly shrewd in the detection of crime. 
 Being in the uniformed branch of the service, 
 he left investigation to the officers of the 
 Criminal Investigation Department attached to 
 the head-quarters of his Division. 
 
 But several facts struck me as curious in 
 this case. And as we stood there, in the 
 presence of the dead, I tried to form some 
 theory as to the reason of that unknown man's 
 suicide. 
 
 The body was quite cold, therefore death 
 must have occurred many hours before. Who 
 was he ? Why had he intruded there in that 
 empty house, when he apparently had had 
 money at his command, as witnessed by the 
 twenty-pound note upon the dressing-table ? 
 And why was he so anxious to announce his 
 defiance ? 
 
 While standing there in silence in the 
 presence of that dead man with the queerly 
 distorted face — contracted it seemed into a 
 weird, hideous grin — I formed the conclusion 
 that, whoever he was, he had actually been in 
 imminent peril of arrest. Somebody, probably 
 the person referred to as " The Wasp," had given 
 away his secret. And his open defiance was
 
 250 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 now shown hy that scrap of paper. " The Wasp 
 can no longer sting ! " Why ? Because his 
 victim was dead. 
 
 But that distorted countenance puzzled me 
 greatly. 
 
 Again I examined the wound, and saw at 
 once that it was a mortal one. The muzzle 
 of the pistol had been held close against the 
 shirt front, the hole in which was brown and 
 blackened. 
 
 By the remains of food in the dining-room, 
 he had had two companions there. Who were 
 they ? Surely they would come forward and 
 make some statement. 
 
 " It's a complete mystery, Dr. d'Escombe, 
 isn't it ? " exclaimed the inspector, turning to 
 me. 
 
 It certainly was, and it had greatly aroused 
 my curiosity. But, determined to investigate 
 matters myself, I affected indifference and said : 
 
 " Merely a case of suicide during temporary 
 insanity. I'll make the post-mortem this after- 
 noon, if you'll have the body removed to the 
 mortuary." 
 
 " Very well, sir," was the man's reply. 
 «' But you didn't go up into the attics, doctor, 
 did you ? " 
 
 I replied in the negative.
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 251 
 
 " I'd like 70U to see one room, doctor, if 
 you don't mind coming up," he said, and I 
 followed him to the top of the house, where 
 we entered a long room, with sloping roof, in 
 which I saw some steel cog-wheels and several 
 pieces of frames of machines, the nature of 
 which it was impossible to determine. 
 
 " It looks as though this was used as a 
 workshop," I said. 
 
 " Yes, that's just the point, doctor." 
 
 " An inventor's workshop — a mad inventor, 
 probably," I said. 
 
 " I must call Syms, our C.I.D. man," the 
 inspector said, " and I shall leave it to 
 him." 
 
 " There's little to leave," I declared with a 
 laugh. " The man was evidently wanted on a 
 criminal charge and simply shot himself to 
 escape arrest, giving your people notice of his 
 intentions. He says so in his letter to the 
 Superintendent. He was probably some crank 
 inventor." 
 
 " All we have to determine is the cause of 
 death," Wills remarked. 
 
 " That's easily settled," I said. " Bullet- 
 wound, self-inflicted." 
 
 And with my pronouncement the estimable 
 official expressed himself entirely satisfied.
 
 252 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I walked back to Thring's house in Alexandra 
 Road, full of serious reflections. 
 
 The word " Riddle " kept recurring to me. 
 I had certainly seen it several times recently, 
 but where, I could not for the life of me 
 recollect. 
 
 Suddenly, just as I entered the house, I 
 remembered. I had noticed it in an adver- 
 tisement in the Morning Post. 
 
 I rushed into the waiting-room, where a 
 copy of that day's paper lay upon the table 
 and searched it. 
 
 Yes ! In the " agony " column was an 
 advertisement — a copy of those very words 
 written upon that discarded scrap of paper — a 
 declaration that " The Wasp " could no longer 
 sting ! 
 
 Half an hour later I drove in Thring's car 
 down to the office of the paper in the Strand, 
 and there searched diligently through the 
 files for the past six months. 
 
 In them I found nearly a dozen different 
 cryptic communications to " Riddle," but so 
 carefully worded that of none could the actual 
 meaning be determined. 
 
 Unknown to Wills, I had, while in that 
 house of mystery, made one discovery. I had 
 found in one of the leather seats of the
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 253 
 
 dining-room chairs a hair-pin, which went to 
 show that one of the man's companions at 
 that last meal of which he had partaken had 
 been a woman. In addition, Wills had failed 
 to notice that, behind the couch in the 
 drawing-room, there lay a crumpled piece of 
 pale salmon coloured ribbon-velvet. It had a 
 hook on one end and an eye on the other. 
 Therefore, it had been worn around the 
 woman's hair, and had probably fallen off 
 unnoticed. 
 " Who was the woman ? 
 
 With the assistance of a local medical man 
 named Neale I made a post-mortem, and we 
 at once declared it to be a case of suicide — a 
 verdict which the coroner's jury returned 
 unanimously next day. 
 
 But nobody knew that, for the purposes of 
 further investigation, I had preserved in a 
 phial a small quantity of the blood of the 
 unidentified suicide. 
 
 Inspector Syms, the officer of the Criminal 
 Investigation Department attached to the 
 head-quarters of the S Division at Hampstead, 
 told me that the owner of the house called 
 Baronsmere was a retired stockbroker named 
 Charlesworth. It had been let three years ago 
 on a ten years' lease to a German importer
 
 254 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 named Heinrich Otto, who, unknown to the 
 owner, was apparently trying to sub-let it 
 furnished. Otto, who paid the rent regularly, 
 had returned to Hamburg a year before, 
 leaving the house in the hands of local agents, 
 while Mr. Charlesworth resided somewhere 
 down in Cornwall. 
 
 Herr Otto was described as a short, stout, 
 fair-headed man of forty-five, who wore round, 
 gold -rimmed spectacles. But even though the 
 features of the suicide were so distorted, they 
 could not have in any way resembled those of 
 the German. 
 
 The mystery, though dismissed by police 
 and public, was, to me, a most remarkable 
 and interesting one, because I had established 
 one amazing fact most clearly — a fact utterly 
 unsuspected and yet astounding. 
 
 I had made a discovery, and saw that, if I 
 exercised a constant vigil, I might possibly 
 turn my knowledge to considerable monetary 
 advantage. 
 
 You know, my dear Brown, that I'm in a 
 chronic state of being hard-up. I was then. 
 I wanted money, and I had devised a deep 
 scheme to secure it. 
 
 Well, that night, and for a good many 
 nights afterwards I haunted the Avenue Road.
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 255 
 
 Fortunately the papers were too occupied with 
 the Camden Town mystery to take any notice 
 of a mere suicide in an unoccupied house, 
 hence no pubhc curiosity had been aroused, 
 and I was able to pursue my nocturnal vigils 
 without let or hindrance. 
 
 Thring had buried his brother and returned, 
 therefore I had gone back to my own practice 
 in Cromwell Road, and each evening, after I 
 had seen the last of my patients, I changed 
 my attire and took a taxi up to St. John's 
 Wood to continue my weary watch. 
 
 It was a mere toss-up. I might succeed, 
 if only my usual good luck would follow 
 me. But there were a great many chances 
 against me. 
 
 By Jove ! I was desperately hard-up at the 
 time. The fine pearl pin I wore in my cravat 
 only cost half a crown and my emerald ring — 
 the one you admired so much one day — was 
 bought for a sovereign. All the little bits of 
 jewellery I possessed had gone to safe keeping. 
 Really, I don't know what our most honour- 
 able profession is coming to when a hard- 
 working man like myself — and a favourite 
 among the ladies — can't get a living. If it 
 had not been for my trusty little hypodermic 
 I should have gone under long ago.
 
 256 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I daresay that, having read my confessions 
 so far, you have begun to feel that I was a 
 dangerous man. But not half so dangerous, I 
 assure you, as some men who practise medicine 
 — and profit by it. Know your drug, know 
 your dose, and know its effect, and you can, 
 with the aid of your hypodermic, play with 
 men and women just as you please. The 
 world itself is but a plaything in the hands of 
 the clever practitioner who specializes in toxi- 
 cology. Oh, yes, Brown ! I could tell you 
 some things even stranger than those I have 
 written down here in the silent watches of 
 the night. But I have refrained, because I 
 fear that certain unscrupulous persons who 
 may read these lines might be tempted to 
 make similar experiments upon their fellow-men. 
 
 My little hypodermic, which lies here in its 
 well-worn case as I write, has been my best 
 friend throughout my career. It has brought 
 to me more money in five seconds than I can 
 earn by practise in five years. By its marvellous 
 aid I can make the old feel young, and the 
 miser generous ; the sad will yell with side- 
 splitting laughter, and the merry will become 
 full of grief ; the careful will gamble, and the 
 good staid woman will cast virtue to the 
 winds. Can any weapon be more terrible in
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 257 
 
 the hands of a man who is hard-up, and who 
 is not hampered by conscience ? 
 
 Ah, Brown, I often think how many 
 practitioners are, hke myself, compelled to keep 
 up appearances upon a limited income, and in 
 addition, most probably, have some secret 
 feminine entanglement. To the doctor are con- 
 fessed the family secrets, and well — in many 
 cases, he can, if he so wishes, profit very 
 considerably by his knowledge. 
 
 I was telling you, however, of how I 
 watched that dark, unht, neglected house in 
 Avenue Road — watched it nightly from dark 
 until dawn — and yet without result. 
 
 I suppose quite a fortnight must have gone 
 by when one overcast night, at about half- 
 past one, while in a shabby suit and golf-cap, 
 I lounged at the corner of Avenue Road, I 
 saw a taxi stop about a hundred yards away, 
 and from it there descended a man, with an 
 old woman in a black bonnet and shawl. 
 
 They paid the driver, and the cab having 
 moved off, the pair strolled along slowly 
 towards where I was standing in the shadow, 
 and suddenly entered the gate of the tenant- 
 less house. 
 
 Their actions surprised me, and my curiosity 
 being aroused, I crept along the pavement 
 
 17
 
 258 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 and watched them silently ascend the front 
 steps and carefully let themselves in with a 
 latch-key. 
 
 When the door had closed, I stood wonder- 
 ing what course to pursue. Here, most 
 certainly, were the intruders who came at 
 night to that empty house with some 
 secret design. 
 
 As I watched, I saw upon the blinds of the 
 dining-room the flash of an electric torch. 
 The light showed from room to room. They 
 appeared to be searching the house. The 
 situation was a peculiar one. If I alarmed 
 the police, then my own scheme would at 
 once be negatived. So I watched and waited. 
 
 Presently, after twenty minutes or so, the 
 young man emerged stealthily and descended 
 the steps. He would have encountered me 
 had I not previously taken the precaution to 
 conceal myself inside the small garden. 
 
 Then I made a sudden resolve. The old 
 woman was alone within, so I would enter 
 and demand an explanation. 
 
 I got in by the pantry window — which I 
 had purposely unlatched and unscrewed when 
 inside with the detectives — and crept upstairs 
 to the dining-room, where a faint light showed. 
 Peering through the crevice of the door, I
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 259 
 
 saw the hook-nosed old woman, her bonnet 
 and shawl removed, seated at the table with a 
 lighted candle, carefully counting a number of 
 bank-notes. 
 
 The dim light fahing upon her revealed a 
 thin, careworn, wrinkled face, with dark, deep- 
 sunken eyes, high cheek bones and grey hair — 
 an evil, repulsive countenance. Her long, 
 brown hands fingered the notes as she 
 murmured to herself in counting. Upon the 
 table lay a shabby leather vanity-bag from 
 which she had apparently taken the large sum 
 she was counting. 
 
 Suddenly, without warning, I stepped into 
 the room and confronted her. 
 
 She grabbed the notes beneath her hand, 
 and sat staring at me, open-mouthed, immov- 
 able as a statue. 
 
 " Well, madam ! " I exclaimed in a hard 
 voice. " Perhaps you will explain your presence 
 here in this house, eh ? " 
 
 " Explain ! " she cried. " Why should I ? 
 Who are you ? " 
 
 " I am a person, madam, who knows your 
 secret," was my reply. " A man who, if you 
 so desire, is ready and anxious to help you, 
 and become your friend." 
 
 " Why do you wish to become my friend, 
 
 17*
 
 26o THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 pray ? " she inquired incredulously in a thin, 
 croaking voice. 
 
 " Well — you would prefer me as friend, 
 rather than enemy, I suppose ? " was my 
 meaning reply. 
 
 She had hastily swept up the bundle of 
 notes and replaced them in her shabby bag. 
 
 " I don't know you, sir," said the old 
 woman., " and, moreover, I don't want to know 
 
 '•0 
 ?5 
 
 you. 
 
 " Probably not — because I could blow this 
 whistle and give you at once into custody," I 
 said with a dry laugh. 
 
 The old woman's eyes narrowed perceptibly, 
 and she started at my words. 
 
 " This house is a house of secrets," I went 
 on, " and the police are extremely anxious to 
 discover what really happened here one night 
 about three weeks ago. They are still in 
 ignorance — but I alone know." 
 
 *' You know ! " gasped the woman, staring at 
 me. 
 
 "Yes. I know that a certain young man 
 found in this place did not shoot himself. He 
 was enticed here — and then deUberately mur- 
 dered. Madam, I give you and your friends 
 due credit for a wonderful astuteness and 
 knowledge. The whole plot was really remark-
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 261 
 
 able, and the simulation of suicide perfect. 
 The typed letter to the police, the draft 
 advertisement, the previous announcements in 
 the Morning Post, all show that, controlling 
 this sinister business, there is some master 
 mind. I want to meet him. Who is he ? " 
 
 " Very hkely that I would tell — eh ? " she 
 laughed. 
 
 " Better tell me," I said. " You know his 
 secrets, hence you will sooner or later die, as 
 all who have known his secrets have died by 
 some subtle and unsuspected means — died like 
 that young man died." 
 
 It was a wild shot of mine, but the old 
 woman gave vent to a low, harsh laugh. 
 
 " I think not," she said confidently. " I can 
 take care of myself." 
 
 " And the young man who has just left this 
 house is marked down as the next victim — 
 eh ? " I asked in a low, dry tone. 
 
 She was silent for a moment. Then she 
 raised her thin, inteUigent face to mine, and 
 said : 
 
 " I realize that, whoever you are, you know 
 something." 
 
 " My name is More d'Escombe. I am a 
 medical man," was my brief reply. " It is 
 true that I am in full possession of the means
 
 262 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 employed to encompass the death of that poor 
 fellow upon whom I made a post-mortem." 
 
 " You know — the truth ! " she gasped, her 
 bony cheeks blanched, her hands trembling as 
 she clutched the edge of the table, her dark 
 eyes staring at me in horror. 
 
 " I do," was my cold response, as I gazed 
 in triumph full in her face. " I will be quite 
 frank with you, and so you must be frank 
 with me." I went on, " I have myself had 
 some little experience with the drug used. I 
 know its dose, and also its effect. The ex- 
 pression upon the dead man's face alone told 
 to me the plain truth. Who was he ? What 
 was his name ? " 
 
 She refused to answer ; my words seemed to 
 hold her paralysed in fear. 
 
 " Come," I said. " We are alone here. And 
 — well, I may, I suppose, be perfectly open 
 with you — I'm prepared to assist you if it is 
 made worth my while. If not — then we may 
 as well remain strangers." 
 
 I had seen that bundle of notes in her hands, 
 and sight of them had aroused within me that 
 fatal avarice which has, alas ! more than once 
 been so nearly the cause of my undoing. 
 
 " Come," I repeated. " What was his 
 name ? "
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 263 
 
 " Lionel Wray," she blurted out, feeling that 
 further resistance was useless, in view of the 
 knowledge I possessed. 
 
 " He was enticed here and robbed — as 
 others have been," I said, looking straight 
 into her face. " Who is your male friend ? 
 Not that boy who has just left you," and 
 then, in order to emphasize my coolness, I 
 took out a cigarette and lit it. 
 
 " My friend is dead," she said. " He died 
 suddenly in Paris a week ago — the result of an 
 accident." 
 
 "A bad accident ? " 
 
 " No, a slight scratch." 
 
 " And his was the master-mind, eh ? " 
 
 " He was a medical man, like yourself. Dr. 
 More d'Escombe," responded the old woman, 
 looking straight at me. 
 
 " And he killed himself by accident — eh ? 
 Confess it." 
 
 "Yes," she responded. "That is unfor- 
 tunately the truth." 
 
 " And you are now in need of a friend ? " 
 
 "I am." 
 
 " Some other person knows the secret of 
 this house," I said. "Who is he?" 
 
 I was wondering from what source that 
 tempting bundle of notes had been derived.
 
 264 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 and whether some of them could not be 
 transferred to my own pocket. 
 
 " That young man, Ronald Snell, who came 
 here with me. He is the son of the man 
 who died in Paris. He — well," and she 
 lowered her voice, " the fact is, he knows too 
 much." 
 
 " And it would be to your advantage 
 if " 
 
 " Yes, if — if something happened," she 
 whispered quickly. 
 
 " Ah, I see," I exclaimed, fully realizing her 
 meaning. " But what does he know ? " 
 
 " Everything. His father — whose real name 
 was Heinrich Otto, but who sometimes took 
 the name of Snell — foolishly let him into the 
 secret of the business transacted here — a paying 
 business, doctor," she laughed. 
 
 " What was that ? " 
 
 " The printing of these," and she touched 
 the little handbag containing the bank-notes. 
 
 " Then Otto was a forger ? " I exclaimed 
 in surprise, suddenly recollecting the pieces of 
 discarded machinery in the attics. 
 
 " Otto was a German doctor, who was also 
 an expert engraver. He prepared the notes, 
 while I travelled across the Continent and 
 changed them. A year ago, however, the
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 265 
 
 suspicions of the Paris police became aroused 
 and I was followed back here to London. 
 Whereupon Otto closed the house, put up 
 the board to let and fled to Germany. Then, 
 when all suspicion had died down, he returned 
 and lived in rooms in Camden Town, only 
 visiting this place at night. For what reason 
 you may guess." 
 
 " Men were enticed here, drugged and 
 robbed," I said. 
 
 She nodded in the afiirmative. 
 
 " Lionel Wray was not the only person who 
 lost his Hfe in this house, no doubt. A man 
 who knew the exact dose of ergotonin, as this 
 Otto did, must have practised upon other 
 victims," I said. 
 
 " Then you know the drug ? " exclaimed 
 the old woman with a queer, harsh laugh. 
 "You know something of drugs?" 
 
 " I do — perhaps as much as your friend 
 Otto did." 
 
 " Then you will help me, Dr. More 
 d'Escombe ? " she said quickly. " Five thousand 
 pounds to your bank on the day that young 
 Ronald breathes his last." 
 
 I hesitated. She might so easily back out 
 of her part of the bargain. My main object 
 was a sum in advance.
 
 266 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " You're offer is certainly rather tempting, 
 Mrs. " 
 
 " Netherall," she interrupted. 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Netherall," I said, "I hardly 
 yet understand why you are so very anxious 
 to rid yourself of the boy." 
 
 I wanted to learn the whole story. 
 
 " I require your assistance, doctor, and I'm 
 prepared to pay for it," repHed the crafty old 
 woman, whose keen, dark eyes glittered with 
 evil in the candle-light. " I know that you 
 were called in by the police when they found 
 young Wray. It was a master-stroke of old 
 Otto's. The police believed it to be a case of 
 suicide in order to avoid arrest." 
 
 " But there were circumstances which might 
 easily have aroused suspicion," I pointed out. 
 " A meal had been eaten at this table, and 
 the remains left. Why ? " 
 
 " Old Heinrich laughed at the police. He 
 typed the letter, and posted it himself. He 
 always declared that the police were idiots, 
 and was fond of proving it." 
 
 " But the advertisements. Who was 
 ' Riddle ? ' " 
 
 " A riddle of his own creation. He in- 
 vented it in order to mystify and mislead the 
 police."
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 267 
 
 I explained how, recognizing the poison used, 
 I had watched the house each night. 
 
 " Not every night," she laughed. " Three 
 times at least you have missed, for we've been 
 here on three occasions." 
 
 "What was the motive of getting rid of 
 young Wray ? " I asked. 
 
 " The same as the others. To close his lips. 
 He was a clerk at a money-changer's in Moor- 
 gate Street, and he one day recognized Otto 
 as a man who had exchanged at a bureau de 
 change in Calais, two forged thousand-franc 
 notes for EngHsh gold. Otto became friendly 
 and Wray sought, of course, to learn more. 
 He accepted an invitation to supper here, 
 intending to give away his friend to the pohce 
 next day. But — well, he did not hve to do 
 so, that's all ! " 
 
 " Several ' persons have, I suppose, been 
 assisted out of the world in a similar manner 
 by Otto ? " I remarked. 
 
 She nodded with an evil grin. 
 
 " Why do you fear his son ? Surely he 
 should fear you, Mrs. Netherall ? " 
 
 " No. In this house, up in the attic, 
 Heinrich Otto had seventy thousand pounds' 
 worth of forged French notes concealed — notes 
 which he printed before he gave up the work
 
 268 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 and cleared out the machinery — as well as 
 two thousand pounds in genuine English bank- 
 notes. I knew their hiding-place and, daring 
 detection, I came here and took them a week 
 ago. Unfortunately, however, the old man, 
 before he left England, told his son where 
 they were. The boy is searching for them, 
 and suspects me of steahng them. If I do 
 not refund them he will go to the police and 
 tell them the whole truth." 
 
 " H'm. Pretty awkward for you, eh ? I 
 suppose he can tell them some rather queer 
 stories." 
 
 " He can. And the worst of it is that the 
 infernal boy has clean hands." 
 
 I rose from the chair where I had been 
 sitting, and, assuming my stiffest professional 
 manner, said : 
 
 " I'm afraid that it is not in my power to 
 assist you, Mrs. Netherall. I much regret it." 
 
 " Not if I give you five thousand pounds 
 in good notes — in gold if you like. You are a 
 clever doctor, and surely the little affair would 
 not be difficult." 
 
 " Madam, I am not in the habit of perform- 
 ing such services," I said in stern rebuke.. 
 
 " What ? " she gasped, staring at me in 
 horror as she rose. '' You refuse ? "
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 269 
 
 " As far as I can see mv best course is to 
 make a statement to the police," I said, my 
 manner entirely changed. 
 
 " To give me away ! " she cried. '' I — I 
 thought you were my friend." 
 
 But I only lit another cigarette, laughing in 
 her ugly face. 
 
 Her wrinkled countenance went pale as 
 death. Then, a second later, she turned 
 crimson in anger. 
 
 " Dr. d'Escombe, you are, indeed, clever. You 
 have induced mc to make a clean breast of the 
 affair, and having done so, you refuse to help me." 
 
 " Madam," I said in a low, earnest tone, 
 " I am an honourable man. I do not take 
 human life without compunction, as did your 
 German friend." 
 
 " But surely your scruples can be put aside ? 
 Five thousand pounds is a substantial sum, 
 remember." 
 
 " And you will profit how much ? You 
 have French notes of the face value of seventy 
 thousand. If they are worth anything at all 
 you can get fifty thousand for them from 
 persons who, like yourself, deal in such com- 
 modities. And you offer me five thousand ! " 
 
 " It is a good fee for five minutes' work, is 
 it not ? "
 
 270 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " The work would take less, but the risk is 
 life-long." 
 
 " You don't trust me ? " she exclaimed, 
 looking at me with a hard, evil expression. 
 
 " Well, we were strangers till half an hour 
 ago," I replied. 
 
 " And if I increased the figure how would 
 you propose to act ? " 
 
 " Ah ! I should have to first make the 
 young gentleman's acquaintance and diagnose 
 his case," I said with a smile. 
 
 But she remained silent. She evidently did 
 not intend to put down any sum in advance. 
 By Jove, old chap ! I was desperate at that 
 moment, fighting against bankruptcy day after 
 day. Still, as you know, I never believe in 
 tracking small game. So I affected complete 
 indifference. 
 
 " I'll increase it by another thousand," the 
 old woman croaked at last. 
 
 " Two thousand paid down now," I insisted. 
 
 " If you wish," was her answer with some 
 reluctance. " But this is blackmail ! " 
 
 " To-morrow will do. But my figure is two 
 thousand down for silence and assistance. I 
 will meet you anywhere by appointment. 
 The bank-notes in this house are not altogether 
 to my liking. I'm perfectly candid," I laughed.
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 271 
 
 " These are all right," she declared, pointing 
 to her bag. " But, if you wish, I'll meet you 
 to-morrow at eleven o'clock outside Westmin- 
 ster Station, on the Embankment. You can 
 then take the notes to any bank and change 
 them." 
 
 " And five thousand this day week ? " 
 
 " If the desired event has occurred by then." 
 
 I saw a blotting pad upon the sideboard, 
 
 and crossing to it got her to write a few 
 
 scribbled lines of agreement, which she duly 
 
 signed. 
 
 Then taking leave of her I left the house 
 of mystery. 
 
 The manner in which Lionel Wray had 
 been killed and the way in which the affair 
 had been made to simulate suicide betrayed 
 the artist. That was certainly not the first 
 occasion on which Heinrich Otto had used 
 ergotonin with criminal intent. He had been 
 aware — by demonstration most probably — of 
 its action in instantly arresting the fiow of 
 the blood, of producing a marble-like pallor, 
 and of contracting the superficial muscles of 
 the face, thereby rendering the victim un- 
 recognizable even by his nearest friends. The 
 drug had been administered first, and directly 
 afterwards the shot had been fired and the
 
 272 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 weapon placed in the dead man's hand, the 
 muscles of which had afterwards contracted. 
 
 Yes. The more I reflected upon Heinrich 
 Otto, the more did I wonder to what extent 
 he had used his toxicological knowledge. He 
 had, no doubt, been a perfect artist in his 
 branch of the profession. 
 
 Next morning at eleven I met the old 
 woman at Westminster, and from her received 
 twenty Bank of England notes for one hundred 
 pounds each, which, a quarter of an hour 
 later, I deposited at my own bank in Fleet 
 Street, thus finding myself with a welcome 
 balance. 
 
 In that hour the fate of young Ronald 
 Snell was sealed. 
 
 Next day, while in the bar of the Leicester 
 Lounge, in Leicester Square, I managed to 
 scrape up an acquaintance with him. At first 
 he was rather shy of me, but thanks, perhaps, 
 to my ultra-respectable appearance and sedate 
 manner, we quickly became on friendly terms. 
 
 I had taken a bedroom and sitting-room 
 at the Savoy Hotel, and on the following day 
 he called to see me. He dined with me, and 
 we went out to the White City afterwards. 
 Next day and the next we met, for I took 
 pains to ingratiate myself with him. He was
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 273 
 
 a silly hoy, even though well versed in the 
 vices of London Hfe. In ignorance of my 
 acquaintance with Mrs. Netherall, his late 
 father's accomphce, he led me to beheve that 
 he was the son of a Manchester merchant, 
 and that his slight German accent had been 
 acquired during his school-days at Wiesbaden. 
 
 On the night you met me at the Empire, 
 we had dined together at the Savoy, and 
 perhaps you may have noticed that he was 
 without gloves. He had left them behind in 
 the sitting-room. 
 
 Something of a dandy, Ronald Snell, son of 
 the great forger and toxicologist, was most 
 particular about his gloves — pale grey suede 
 ones. Only when in a taxi on our way to 
 the Empire did he discover, to his annoyance, 
 that he had left them behind. 
 
 " Never mind, my dear fellow. You'll go 
 back with me to supper, and then you can 
 get them," I said reassuringly. 
 
 That afternoon I had introduced him to 
 absinthe while we had sat at one of those 
 httle tables in the Cafe de I'Europe, in 
 Leicester Square. After we left you we 
 returned there, and he had yet another 
 absinthe. I was trying an experiment. 
 
 Then we took a taxi to the Savoy, where 
 
 18
 
 274 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 we had supper and sat afterwards sipping 
 curagoa, watching the half-world of London, 
 and listening to the Roumanian band. 
 
 Upon my companion the combination of 
 absinthe and champagne had already had its 
 effect. He was bright and merry, declaring 
 that, thanks to me, he had spent a most 
 deUghtful day. 
 
 When the lights went down and a warning 
 voice announced that the time-limit had ex- 
 pired, we ascended in the lift to my sitting-room. 
 
 "You want your gloves," I said. "There 
 they are." 
 
 They were lying upon the sideboard, where 
 he had left them, but as he drew on the left 
 hand one he exclaimed in a thick, indistinct 
 voice : 
 
 " By Jove ! Why — why a beastly pin has 
 got into the thumb ! And I've pricked myself 
 badly." 
 
 And he drew off the glove quickly and 
 examined his thumb beneath the light. Upon 
 the puncture was a tiny bead of dark blood. 
 
 I glanced at it critically, and then laughing, 
 declared : 
 
 " Oh, that's nothing," and looking at the 
 pin, added : " It isn't rusty, so there can be 
 no danger."
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 275 
 
 " Well," he said, " you're a doctor, so you 
 ought to know," and he laughed an idiotic 
 laugh. Then slowly he replaced the glove, 
 while I cast the offending pin into the fire- 
 place. 
 
 For the next three days we were inseparable, 
 but on the fourth morning I received a 
 message over the telephone from his rooms in 
 Down Street, saying that he was feeling very 
 unwell and asking me to call. 
 
 I went, and as soon as I saw him I felt 
 inwardly satisfied. 
 
 " Not quite the thing, eh ? " I exclaimed 
 cheerily, feeUng his pulse. 
 
 "No, d'Escombe. I feel horribly ill," the 
 young fellow declared. " Look at my thumb ; 
 I believe I've poisoned it somehow." 
 
 It was red and inflamed, but, fortunately, 
 owing to the alcohol he had consumed at the 
 Savoy, he had no recollection of the slight 
 pin-prick. 
 
 " It certainly looks a bit red," I said. 
 " I'll go out to the chemist's and get some- 
 thing to dress it with." 
 
 Presently I bandaged it with a little harm- 
 less ointment, and assured him he would be 
 better on the morrow. 
 
 Next day, however, I found a marked 
 
 18*
 
 276 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 constitutional disturbance, together with an 
 eruption on the surface of the body. 
 
 He had noticed it and suggested that 
 Dr. Macdonald, a medical man he had 
 consulted before, and who lived in Paddington, 
 should be called. To this I raised no 
 objection. Therefore, my estimable colleague 
 saw him, made an independent diagnosis, and 
 was much puzzled next day by the eruption 
 which had at first appeared papular and was 
 now assuming a pustular form. He found the 
 nasal mucous membrane secondarily infected, 
 and thence inflammatory swelling was spreading 
 to the tissues of the face. 
 
 When we consulted, Macdonald acknow- 
 ledged himself in complete ignorance of the 
 disease from which the patient was suffering, 
 an ignorance which, of course, I also affected. 
 
 As day succeeded day, Macdonald attended 
 him, but he grew no better. His symptoms 
 were of rapid pyaemia, and on the ninth day 
 Ronald Snell breathed his last, while both 
 Macdonald and his partner, a man named 
 Booth, were, as I expected, utterly at a loss 
 to diagnose the actual disease. 
 
 They were unaware that the pin in the 
 young man's suede glove had been infected 
 with a stroke culture I had carefully incubated
 
 THE AVENUE ROAD MYSTERY 277 
 
 on potato, the bacillus of glanders — a malady 
 which is extremely difficult to diagnose. 
 Fortunately, the truth was quite unsuspected, 
 or they would have appHed mallein, and by 
 its means discovered the inoculation. 
 
 Thus did I assist the son of Heinrich Otto, 
 the expert toxicologist, out of the world, and 
 on the day of his burial in Highgate Cemetery, 
 I became the richer by five thousand pounds. 
 
 I have often wondered what became of old 
 Mrs. Netherall. I have never seen her since 
 that afternoon when we parted outside my 
 bank in Fleet Street, where I had paid in the 
 bank-notes which she handed to me in 
 acknowledgment of my services. 
 
 My vigil upon that tenantless house in 
 Avenue Road was certainly a long and tedious 
 one, but surely my patience was well rewarded. 
 
 I spent the month of October at Monte 
 Carlo, just for another little flutter, and in 
 order to get some nasty tastes out of my 
 mouth. But bad luck dogged me once again, 
 for I, alas ! lost every sou at the tables — all 
 except a couple of hundred. 
 
 I've often thought it curious that such 
 little windfalls to a doctor do him so very 
 little good.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 IN WHICH I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 
 
 /^NE afternoon, at the feast in honour of 
 ^^ the wedding of Shiela Warren, a patient 
 of mine who hved with her parents in Long- 
 ridge Road, Earl's Court, I was introduced to 
 Mr. James Farnell. 
 
 A stout, red-faced, pompous old gentleman, 
 he greeted me affably, and we had a long 
 chat in the corner of the crowded drawing- 
 room. 
 
 Only recently I had pulled the bride through 
 a very severe attack of scarlet-fever, and the 
 thanks of the family, and ' of the young man 
 who was that day the bridegroom, had been 
 showered upon me. The girl now standing, 
 handsome and radiant, in her bridal gown, 
 had very nearly gone under. Indeed, one 
 night I had left that house, feeling that I 
 should not see her again aHve. Yet, with that 
 perversity which Nature so often asserts, she 
 
 278
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 279 
 
 had taken a sudden turn, and had grown 
 rapidly well. 
 
 Her parents had been anxious to give her a 
 change, therefore, disregarding infection, I sent 
 her down to an hotel at Eastbourne, and I was 
 not really surprised when, two or three weeks 
 afterwards, there had been a mysterious out- 
 break of the same disease in that establishment. 
 
 But I said nothing, neither did any of the 
 Warren family. 
 
 James Farnell, who was father of the bride- 
 groom, invited me to visit him in Fitzjohn's 
 Avenue, Hampstead, where he lived. 
 
 Later on, while chatting with the bride's 
 father after the pair had left for their honey- 
 moon, I learnt that Farnell senior was a 
 wealthy man who dabbled in the City, and 
 was director of two important companies, and 
 chairman of a big shipbuilding firm at Gates- 
 head. 
 
 Strange, Brown, what an attractive scent 
 money always has for me. 
 
 As soon as I knew that he was really wealthy 
 — and not one of those useless ones who live 
 up to every penny of their income — I resolved 
 to cultivate his acquaintance. Hence, three 
 days later, I called at the big, red-brick, 
 detached house half-way up the hill from
 
 28o THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Swiss Cottage, and took tea with his dark- 
 haired wife and his daughter Edith, a tall, fair 
 girl of about seventeen. 
 
 Upon that, my first visit to that artistic, 
 well-appointed house, I detected that Farnell 
 was a faddist — one of those men of middle age 
 who are ever anxious about their health and 
 weight, and ever suspicious that there may be 
 something the matter with their heart. 
 
 Such men are constant sources of income to 
 the medical man. The family-practitioner 
 always cultivates their acquaintance, for they 
 mean nice little quarterly accounts. The 
 faddist will not repulse his doctor from looking 
 in " just to see that he's all right," even though 
 he may be passing on his way to another 
 patient. And as " every picture tells a story," 
 so does " every visit mean a fee." 
 
 Well, I soon began to know all about 
 Farnell's complaints, both real and imaginary. 
 He let fall that he had had several bad 
 " goes " of fever in the tropics ; therefore I 
 attributed all his ailments to the weakness left 
 by malaria, and advised him to be most 
 careful. 
 
 I smiled when he explained to me how his 
 rheumatism had been treated by a man whom 
 I knew to be a charlatan, and though I
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 281 
 
 pretended to agree that such treatment might 
 be beneficial, I added : 
 
 " The reHef can only be temporary, and if 
 you were to ask me candidly, Mr. Farnell, I 
 should say that you have not been in the best 
 of hands. This exercise and golf, and such 
 like can do you no good. You are not strong 
 enough for it." 
 
 " Don't you think so r " he asked, looking at 
 me in alarm. 
 
 "No, I don't." 
 
 " Examine my heart. Dr. d'Escombe. I wish 
 you would — and tell me your candid opinion." 
 
 Unfortunately, I had not my stethoscope 
 with me, but I promised that I would make a 
 professional visit next morning, if he wished it. 
 
 He was eager and anxious. Smiling within 
 myself I saw that I had landed another fish 
 into my net. 
 
 Well, the outcome of my visit next day 
 was to alarm him slightly, and at the same 
 time promise him a complete cure. 
 
 " If you carry out my treatment you'll be a 
 new man in six months," I assured him. 
 " You're run down. You've not been treated 
 as you should have been. I don't like your 
 heart at all. But we can soon have it right 
 again. No exercise, remember. Don't walk
 
 282 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 up-hill or upstairs too quickly. Save yourself 
 all the exertion you can. And as for your 
 rheumatism, it can be quite cured by judicious 
 application of electricity. I know a most 
 excellent man. I'll see him myself, and if you 
 go down to him twice or three times a week 
 for a month or two, you'll be able to move 
 your hands as well as I can." 
 
 " Do you really think so, Dr. d'Escombe ? " 
 asked the old chap, his face brightening. 
 
 Though he did not drink port himself, he 
 kept a splendid cellar, and the glass of wine 
 he ordered for me was perfect. 
 
 From that day forward, for five whole 
 months I saw him twice a week. Sometimes 
 he would motor down to Cromwell Road to 
 see me. You met him once in my smoking- 
 room, I remember. 
 
 The summer days were stifling in London, 
 and he longed to get to Vichy. But I kept 
 him carefully at home, for did not every visit 
 mean a fee ? 
 
 He was a cute old man. But my pro- 
 fessional patter and my air of deep concern 
 deceived him, as it had deceived many a 
 cleverer man. Fortunately, he had a slight 
 affection of the heart, and this, I, of course, 
 magnified until at the end of five months he
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 283 
 
 felt himself liable to expire suddenly at any 
 moment. 
 
 Mrs. Farnell was a mere cipher in the 
 house. He was devoted to his daughter Edith, 
 and, by Jove ! I never knew a smarter or 
 cleverer girl. She had been to school in 
 Dresden, and was saturated with German philo- 
 sophy, which ill became her, pretty and 
 " fluffy " as she was. 
 
 Once, when I had paid a visit to her 
 father, I found her alone in the morning- 
 room, standing by the window. 
 
 She turned upon me like a young tigress, 
 and with flashing eyes exclaimed : 
 
 " Look here, Dr. d'Escombe, I don't think 
 you are treating Dad fairly. You are making 
 him believe he's horribly ill, and I'm sure he 
 isn't ! " 
 
 I looked the girl straight in the face, much 
 surprised. 
 
 " I have no knowledge of treating your 
 father unfairly. Miss Farnell," I replied. 
 " Indeed, I don't follow you." 
 
 " You are making him believe he's really ill, 
 and I, for one, don't believe it," she declared 
 angrily. " He could walk, shoot, play golf, and 
 take exercise before he consulted you, and now 
 — why, he's a perfect invalid."
 
 284 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 The girl saw through me. In an instant 1 
 reaHzed how shrewd she was, even though she 
 might be one of those flighty ones who, in 
 the afternoon, wander across the Heath from 
 " Jack Straw's Castle " towards the " Spaniards," 
 and sit upon the seats, displaying neat ankles, 
 and eyeing the men who chance to pass by. 
 
 " I fear you are mistaken," I laughed. 
 " Your father has been much worse than he 
 imagined. He has been keeping himself very 
 quiet, it is true ; but he'll find the benefit of 
 it next year." 
 
 I had known all along that she disliked me. 
 Why, I could not tell. Her brother's wife 
 had sung my praises many times, for to my 
 efforts she certainly owed her life. And yet 
 this girl suspected my treatment of her silly 
 old father. 
 
 How she had so completely read me, was a 
 perfect mystery. 
 
 I pretended to treat her hostility with utter 
 unconcern, and laughingly declared that she 
 would very soon discern an improvement in 
 her father's general health. 
 
 For another month I continued to give him 
 innocuous tonics, while the electrical expert 
 gave him light baths and other treatments of 
 his own invention. So, between us, we were
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 285 
 
 making a very good thing out of him. His 
 cheques came in very useful, I can tell you, 
 my boy. But I was in sore want of a few 
 hundreds just then, and was carefully scheming 
 how I could get them. 
 
 That infernal rubber boom caused me to 
 rush into speculation, like it did so many 
 others, and now the day of reckoning was, 
 alas ! fast approaching. 
 
 I found myself once again in desperate 
 straits. I was hard-worked, too, for just at 
 that time another epidemic of influenza had 
 broken out. 
 
 Old Farnell was a very hard nut as regards 
 money matters, or I would have asked him 
 point-blank for a loan. But I saw it was 
 useless. He had given his son a handsome 
 present on his marriage, and was for ever 
 referring to it, declaring that he could ill- 
 aflFord it. 
 
 Many men who are rich, plead poverty. 
 Therefore I only smiled. 
 
 One autumn morning, however, when I 
 called to visit him, the maid told me that he 
 was in the small room at the end of the 
 passage, an apartment which he called his 
 business-room. Being so constantly in the 
 house I walked along, and was about to push
 
 286 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 open the door when I was startled to hear 
 within men's voices raised in anger. 
 
 I Hstened and overheard a stranger exclaim 
 in a hard tone, but quite audibly: 
 
 " Well, Farnell, I've put the truth quite 
 plainly before you, much as I regret it. 
 You'll have to pay, or else face prosecution. 
 You are my friend, and I alone know the 
 truth. You put things square, then I'll remain 
 silent, and nobody will know." 
 
 "Yes, and you might blackmail me later 
 on, eh ? " 
 
 " I think you know me well enough, after 
 ten years, to be certain that I should never 
 do that ! " snapped the other. 
 
 " What I know of you, Davies, is nothing 
 much to your credit," rephed my patient in a 
 low voice. " But I may as well admit the truth 
 of all you've said, and be perfectly frank." 
 
 " And how do you propose squaring it up ? 
 Your defalcations amount, roughly, I think, to 
 nearly eleven thousand pounds." 
 
 " I haven't got the money," declared old 
 Farnell. 
 
 " But you've had it and thrown it away on 
 the Stock Exchange." 
 
 " Who knows that I've had it beside 
 yourself ? "
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 287 
 
 " Nobody. Who can know ? " replied the 
 man addressed as Davies, while I listened to 
 the conversation with breathless interest. 
 
 There was a long pause, during which I 
 heard a match being struck. 
 
 " And what is the latest time before the 
 money need be paid ? " 
 
 " A month — not a day later." 
 
 " And nobody knows that I have had the 
 money, except yourself, eh ? Are you quite 
 certain of that ? " Farnell repeated. 
 
 " Positive. I alone hold the proof, my dear 
 sir. 
 
 " I know. And without that proof nothing 
 could possibly be brought against me," my 
 patient said. 
 
 " You are not treating me quite fairly, 
 Farnell," the other complained. " I came 
 here in your own interests — in order to give 
 you an opportunity of putting matters straight 
 before the truth leaks out." 
 
 " I know. But I can't find eleven thousand 
 in an hour." 
 
 "You can in a month." 
 
 "Yes — I suppose I must. Well, have a 
 drink," and the master of the house rang the 
 bell. 
 
 I stepped back along the hall, and entered
 
 288 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 the morning-room to wait until his visitor 
 departed. 
 
 He emerged soon, a thin, pale-faced, rather 
 round-shouldered man of forty-five, wearing 
 gold pince-nez. I was careful he should not 
 see me, though I got a good glance at his 
 face, both as he crossed the hall and again as 
 he passed the window on his way out. 
 
 Instantly I came forth from the room, and 
 meeting Farnell, said : 
 
 " I heard you were engaged, so thought I'd 
 wait." 
 
 " Yes, doctor, come in," he snapped, and led 
 the way back to his den. He was quite 
 unlike his usual self, and treated me with 
 considerable abruptness. 
 
 We were seated together v^ith the door 
 closed when I suddenly looked him straight 
 in the face, and said : 
 
 " You are not quite yourself this morning, Mr. 
 Farnell. This excitement is not good for you." 
 
 " Excitement ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Well, the excitement of having such a 
 visitor," I replied meaningly and rather slowly. 
 
 He started up, staring at me in blank 
 astonishment. 
 
 " What do you mean, d'Escombe ? What — 
 what do you know ? "
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 289 
 
 " I know that man's name, and the reason 
 of his visit," was my cool reply. " The fact 
 is, I heard your voices raised and I was 
 compelled to listen — to hear those allegations 
 he made against you." 
 
 " By Heaven ! " he gasped, sinking back in 
 his chair. " Then — then you know / " 
 
 I nodded in the afhrmative. 
 
 " But you can surely trust me with your 
 secret, Mr. Farnell ? " I exclaimed. " Indeed, 
 if I can be of any service I will act most 
 willingly. You may rely upon my entire 
 discretion." 
 
 He looked straight at me for some moments 
 without replying. His face had grown pale, 
 and a curious, haggard expression showed in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " Ah 1 " he sighed at last. " If you only 
 could help me. My poor wife — and poor 
 Edith ! The blow will be terrible to them, if 
 I stand in the dock at the Old Bailey." 
 
 " But you won't ; you'll pay." 
 
 " I've promised to pay, but the worst of it 
 is. I can't. Lately I've been very hard hit, 
 and I've only about five thousand at the 
 bank. That's useless." 
 
 " Then how do you propose to act ? " I 
 inquired in a low voice. 
 
 19
 
 290 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Heaven alone knows ! Face the music, I 
 suppose." 
 
 "Bosh!" I laughed. "You're surely not 
 going to act the fool ? " 
 
 " I don't quite follow you, d'Escombe," he 
 said. " Can you see any way out of it ? " 
 
 " Well," I replied with some hesitation. 
 " There is — one way." 
 
 " How ? " he cried eagerly, rising and facing 
 me earnestly. I was silent for a few moments, 
 carefully examining my well-manicured finger- 
 nails. 
 
 " This man Davies is not a very reliable 
 person, is he ? From what I gathered, he 
 possesses certain proofs of your dishonesty, 
 and he alone knows how much you've had — 
 and how you have had it. Am I correct ? " 
 
 " Yes. He knows everything. He's learnt 
 it in a most artful way." 
 
 " Probably in order to bleed you. He 
 believes you to be well off." 
 
 " In all probability." 
 
 " Well," I said ; " you have only to reckon 
 with him. You are certain of that ? " 
 
 " Yes, at present nobody else knows. And 
 he will tell nobody, otherwise he couldn't black- 
 mail me afterwards." 
 
 " Good. Then he is your sole enemy," I
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 291 
 
 said. " And — well, I put it to you, for 
 example, supposing that his mouth were closed 
 there would be no fear. Nobody would know 
 into whose pockets the money had gone ! " 
 
 He nodded, his countenance full of despair. 
 
 " It might be believed to have gone into 
 his," he said. 
 
 Apparently he did not grasp my true 
 meaning. He, of course, beHeved me to be 
 the very soul of honour, and the perfect pink 
 of respectability. 
 
 " We may suppose many things, d'Escombe," 
 he said, a hard expression showing in the 
 corners of his mouth. " But we can hardly 
 suppose that his lips will be closed," and he 
 sighed, his eyes downcast to the carpet. " No, 
 for three weeks I'll live and enjoy Hfe — and 
 then, well, probably I shall find an easy way 
 out," he added meaningly. 
 
 " You can," I said very seriously. " It only 
 wants a little courage." 
 
 " Suicide, eh ? " he murmured. 
 
 " Not at all," I said, and then after a 
 pause, my eyes fixed upon his, I added : 
 "There is a way by which his mouth may be 
 closed." 
 
 He looked very keenly at me for a few 
 seconds. His grey brows knit slowly, as 
 
 19*
 
 292 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 though the drift of my argument was slowly 
 filtering through his brain. 
 
 " Phew ! " he gasped. " I see ! You are 
 a doctor d'Escombe. You could help me — if 
 you only dared ! " 
 
 I nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " A risky business ! You'd want a big price, 
 and — well, I can't pay very much, though to 
 me it means life or death ! " 
 
 "A thousand," I said. "I'll manage it for 
 that, and free you." 
 
 " And take all risks ? " he whispered. 
 
 " On two conditions. That you pay me a 
 couple of hundred now — as a retainer, as it 
 were — and that you are for ever silent." 
 
 I saw in an instant that he swallowed the 
 bait. He was just a httle frightened at 
 the suggestion, but ten minutes later, in the 
 broad, open light of day with the sunshine 
 streaming into that httle room, he purchased 
 the life of his enemy. He wrote me a cheque 
 for two hundred pounds. 
 
 Then, fearing that one day or other he 
 might condemn me, I compelled him to 
 scribble a few lines to the effect that the sum 
 was paid to me " for private services rendered." 
 
 That, my dear fellow, together with the 
 existence of the cheque, would be evidence
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 293 
 
 too strong to permit of any double-dealing on 
 his part. 
 
 I placed the cheque in my pocket, highly 
 satisfied with my morning's work. I was to 
 release a patient, and a good fellow, from an 
 ugly situation, and rid society of a person who 
 was extremely undesirable — a man who had 
 blackmailed many of his City friends on 
 previous occasions. 
 
 Strange, my dear friend, how money tumbles 
 unexpectedly into my hands just at the very 
 moment that I require it ! But there, I 
 suppose if one is unscrupulous, and not cursed 
 by too delicate a conscience, one can always 
 earn a decent income in my profession. 
 
 Outside Swiss Cottage station I took a taxi 
 across to Kensington, and on arriving home had 
 a quiet cigar. Over it I tried to formulate a 
 plan. That same afternoon I put an inquiry 
 through to the Information Bureau which I 
 sometimes patronized, and three days later 
 learned that Llewellyn Henson Davies was a 
 well-known City man who had dabbled in 
 finance for years, and who lived in chambers 
 in King Street, St. James'. He was a 
 bachelor, very quiet, staid, and highly respect- 
 able — a member of Brooks's, and on Sundays 
 he attended St. James', Piccadilly, regularly.
 
 294 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 His minage was not an extensive one, con- 
 sisting only of an elderly Italian valet. 
 
 When I called at Fitzjohn's Avenue and told 
 Farnell what I knew, he was amazed. 
 
 " My dear d'Escombe, how did you learn all 
 this ? " he asked. 
 
 But I only assumed a sphinx-like expression, 
 and smiled, asking him to supply any further 
 details he could regarding his enemy's habits 
 or his haunts. 
 
 " I really don't know. Sometimes he 
 lunches at Birch's, in Cornhill," he said ; " and 
 he's a member of the City Carlton. You 
 know his office in the Poultry, at the corner 
 of Bucklersbury ? " 
 
 " Yes," I said. " I suppose I must now 
 make his acquaintance." 
 
 But scarcely had I uttered this sentence 
 when his daughter Edith entered the room. 
 
 " Whose acquaintance. Dad ? " she asked. 
 
 " We are talking business, dearie," he replied. 
 "And I wish that when I'm engaged with 
 Dr. d'Escombe you would knock before you 
 come in. It is hardly lady-like to burst into 
 a man's room like this ! " 
 
 " But, Dad, how was I to know ? " she pro- 
 tested with a pout. " I didn't hear you 
 talking at first. I thought you were alone,"
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 295 
 
 dnd she glanced at me with an expression of 
 annoyance. 
 
 '' You must not think, my dear ; you must 
 always make certain," he said. 
 
 Then after another covert, and not alto- 
 gether pleasant glance at me, she turned 
 reluctantly and left. 
 
 " I hope your daughter does not suspect 
 anything ? " I asked, glancing at the closed 
 door. 
 
 " What can she suspect ? " queried my 
 patient. " No, my dear fellow, don't have any 
 such misgivings. You are quite safe. I leave 
 the whole matter entirely to you. He must be 
 silenced, and you alone can do it. But what 
 means do you intend to employ ? " 
 
 " Ah ! You must leave all details to me, 
 Mr. Farnell," I said firmly. " In such a 
 difficult and serious case one must provide for 
 every contingency, however remote. Davies 
 means mischief, hence he is just as wary as 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Well, act entirely as you think fit, and 
 there are eight hundred pounds for you on 
 the day that he — the day that he is in- 
 competent to trouble me further," he said. 
 
 And with that, I left and returned to 
 Cromwell Road.
 
 296 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 That afternoon I called on a man whom I 
 sometimes employed to make private inquiries 
 for me, and I instructed him to find out 
 something further regarding Davies. Two 
 days later I had a report in my hands which 
 showed that the person in question was well- 
 known in a certain circle in the City, but he 
 had the reputation of being addicted to sharp 
 practice. He was a director of two distinctly 
 shady concerns. The whole report, indeed, 
 went to show that, while posing as an 
 influential man, he was, on the contrary, little 
 better than an adventurer. He had led an 
 eventful life in South Africa before the war, 
 and had made several remarkable coups in 
 finance in consequence. 
 
 For a long while I pondered over what I 
 read. 
 
 Then, passing into that bare upstairs room 
 which I used as a laboratory, and to which 
 nobody was ever admitted, I went to the win- 
 dow and examined my tiny tubes of various 
 cultures in the small, square incubator. They 
 were innocent-looking little tubes, in all 
 conscience, but contained in them were 
 sufficient germs of deadly diseases to decimate 
 a town. 
 
 The particular tube to which I turned my
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 297 
 
 attention was one in which I was making a 
 rather difficult cultivation of certain bacteria 
 which, on the day before, I had received from 
 Paris. I placed a little of it beneath my 
 microscope and on magnifying it a thousand 
 times watched those minute micro-organisms, 
 the exact nature of which science has not, up 
 to the present, determined. 
 
 Still, the culture had commenced, and I 
 raised my eye from the microscope, perfectly 
 satisfied. The organism resembled a kind of 
 yeast which bacteriologists have placed among 
 the blastomycetes, yet more than that we 
 know but little. Nevertheless, the tiniest 
 particle of that virus introduced beneath the 
 skin, either by injection or by abrasion, would 
 certainly result in one of the most horrible 
 and fatal diseases to which man is subject. 
 
 The media I was using contained brain 
 substance, and, delighted with the entire 
 success of my experiment, I left the room, 
 carefully re-locking the door behind me. 
 
 That evening, anyone passing down King 
 Street, St. James', about eight o'clock would, 
 perhaps, have noticed a taxi draw up at the 
 kerb at the corner of Bury Street. In it some- 
 one sat back in the darkness, and the driver 
 smoked a cigarette while seated at the wheel.
 
 298 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 The man inside the cab was myself, and I 
 was watching for the man Davies to emerge 
 from his chambers, which were over a hat 
 shop. 
 
 I was in evening-dress, and I suppose I 
 presented as respectable an appearance as he 
 did, when, after three-quarters of an hour, he 
 came forth in black overcoat and crush-hat, 
 and strolled up Duke Street into Jermyn 
 Street, entering the Maison Jules for dinner. 
 
 Hence, I was compelled to follow up in the 
 taxi, and again wait without my own dinner, 
 till an hour later he emerged and took a taxi 
 to the Palace Theatre. 
 
 There he seated himself in a stall, while I 
 watched him from the promenade. Then, 
 during the entr''acte, he came forth and 
 descended to the bar. I allowed him to 
 order a whisky-and-soda, when, suddenly 
 seizing my opportunity, I came up beside him, 
 and reaching over to give the barmaid my 
 money, accidentally upset his drink. 
 
 " Do forgive me, my dear sir," I said in 
 my best professional manner of apology. " It 
 was horribly clumsy of me ! " And I at once 
 ordered another whisky-and-soda. 
 
 I noted his annoyance, but the profuseness 
 of my apology melted him, and when I
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 299 
 
 expressed hope that none of it had gone upon 
 his clothes, he said with a laugh : 
 
 " Oh, no ! It's really nothing — a mere 
 accident." 
 
 So we drank together, chatted for a few 
 moments, discussed the programme, and 
 agreed that it was not up to the usual 
 standard of the house. 
 
 Ten minutes later he had accepted one of 
 my cigarettes, and had paid for a drink for me. 
 
 Knowing that Farnell had never mentioned 
 me, I told him my real name. Indeed, I gave 
 him my card, which showed that I was a 
 medical man, while he gave me one of his. 
 
 Presently I went back with my new ac- 
 quaintance to witness the latest dance. But 
 we voted it poor, and before we parted we 
 went again to the bar. 
 
 I was much gratified to find that he seemed 
 to have taken quite a fancy to me. Why, I 
 cannot tell. Perhaps it was because I had been 
 telhng him some funny hospital stories, which 
 he declared were quite fresh to him, and cer- 
 tainly they caused him to laugh heartily. 
 
 " I wonder that you smoke cigarettes without 
 a mouthpiece ! " I suddenly exclaimed. " We 
 doctors never do. It is not healthy to allow 
 your lungs to do the same work as a plug of
 
 300 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 cotton-wool can do. See mine," and I ex- 
 hibited my amber mouthpiece, which, mi- 
 screwing in the centre, contained a plug of 
 wool. 
 
 " By Jove ! An excellent idea. Where do 
 you get them ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I'll send you one," I said, laughing, " as 
 souvenir of this meeting. And we shall meet 
 again, I hope." 
 
 " Certainly. I'll be most pleased. But, 
 I say," he added, " it's awfully good of 
 you." 
 
 " Not at all," I declared, and, then the show 
 being over, we strolled together down Shaftes- 
 bury Avenue as far as Piccadilly Circus, where 
 we parted. 
 
 Next day I sent him the cigarette-tube by 
 post, and three days afterwards called at his 
 chambers, having previously rung him up on 
 the telephone. 
 
 The instant I entered his cosy sitting-room 
 in the twilight of the wintry afternoon, I saw 
 that at least I had successfully accomplished 
 one point. 
 
 But I remained silent, took the cigarette he 
 offered me, and sank into the big arm-chair 
 beside the fire. 
 
 For some time we chatted merrily, the room
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 301 
 
 lit by the leaping flames of the fire, and I 
 proposed dinner the next evening and a theatre 
 afterwards, to which he raised no objection. 
 
 I could read in his face the word " adven- 
 turer." And further, I had no great liking for 
 the thin, sallow-faced foreign valet who 
 attended him. 
 
 Presently I remarked casually : 
 " I suppose you got the cigarette-tube all 
 right ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, d'Escombe. So many thanks for 
 it," he rephed. " How very foolish of me. I 
 quite forgot to thank you for it. I've smoked 
 it every day since. See, I have it now," and 
 he removed it from his lips. " I find it most 
 pleasant smoking, so cool and different alto- 
 gether from the usual mode." 
 
 " Yes, I see. But " I exclaimed, scrutin- 
 izing his lips. "You were only just in time, 
 Mr. Davies." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean ? " he asked in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Oh, nothing very much," I replied, in an 
 endeavour to treat the matter with unconcern. 
 " Only — well, I see you have a significant sore 
 upon your lower lip." 
 
 " It came yesterday," he said. " I've never 
 had one before. You're a doctor, d'Escombe ;
 
 302 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 surely it's nothing serious ? I'll switch on the 
 light." 
 
 He did so, and as he stood beneath it I 
 carefully examined his mouth and the small 
 open sore which, truth to tell, had been pur- 
 posely set up by sucking the prepared holder I 
 had sent him. 
 
 He saw that I did not like the look of it. 
 
 " What is it ? " he demanded. " It's un- 
 commonly sore." 
 
 " Well, there's of course nothing to be really 
 alarmed at — not blood-poisoning or anything of 
 that sort. Still, it should be attended to. If 
 it spreads, it may disfigure your whole chin. 
 I've known such cases. So, if you'll allow me, 
 I'll send you over a little ointment. Rub it 
 well in with the fore-finger both night and 
 morning." 
 
 " Thanks, d'Escombe ; that will be awfully 
 good of you," the man declared. 
 
 " Not at all," I laughed. " I always believe 
 in taking things of that sort in time. When 
 once such a thing spreads one never knows 
 how it will end." 
 
 " You alarm me ! " 
 
 *' Oh, my dear fellow, don't be alarmed. 
 Simply use the remedy regularly, and in a 
 day or two it will entirely disappear,"
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 303 
 
 We smoked on for an hour, and when I 
 rose to leave I promised I would send him 
 over the ointment that same evening by 
 district messenger. 
 
 This I did, and as you may surmise, dear boy, 
 when I mixed the ointment I emptied into it 
 the whole of the little tubeful of that culture 
 which I had so carefully incubated. 
 
 Next night we dined together in the grill- 
 room at the Carlton, and as I sat opposite 
 him I inquired after the little sore upon his 
 lip. 
 
 " Oh, it's very much better." he declared. 
 " I used what you sent me last night, and 
 again this morning. It is rapidly healing." 
 
 I expressed pleasure, but somehow that tiny 
 sore fascinated me, as, ever and anon, I looked 
 into the face of the doomed man. We went 
 to the Gaiety together and sat in the stalls, 
 watching a musical comedy. But, by Jove! I 
 was hardly at my ease. 
 
 The trick had been done. I had only now 
 to await results. 
 
 Next evening I visited old Mr. Farnell, and 
 almost his first question when we were alone 
 was : 
 
 " Well, what has happened ? " 
 
 '' Nothing," I said. " Nothing at least to
 
 304 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 cause you a moment's worry. Only, on next 
 Thursday week, I shall call here for my 
 cheque." 
 
 He stared at me with a mixed expression of 
 amazement and pleasure. 
 
 " Then you have been successful ! " he 
 gasped. " How ? " 
 
 " The matter concerns myself," I replied 
 with a smile. " To-day is Friday ; on Thursday 
 week, or at latest on Friday, I shall ask you 
 for the cheque — that's all." 
 
 " And it will be ready for you, d'Escombe, 
 with a hundred added to it," was the old 
 fellow's reply. " By Jove ! when I pay you I 
 really believe my rheumatism will be cured. 
 I shall enter upon a new lease of life." 
 
 " Of course you will," I said cheerfully. 
 " Didn't I tell you there was no reason what- 
 ever to worry ? " 
 
 " Ah, yes. But I didn't know that you 
 were so plucky," was his reply. " Most 
 doctors wear a mask of respectability, and 
 would be horrified at any suggestion of the 
 kind. Yet you made it yourself." 
 
 " As a matter of business, purely," I 
 declared. " By releasing you from a difficulty 
 I shall also be benefiting myself." 
 
 " I like you, d'Escombe," he said, his big
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 305 
 
 face broadening into a laugh. "You're such 
 a philosopher." 
 
 " People who knew the truth would perhaps 
 call me something else," I remarked with a 
 grin. 
 
 "But tell me, what have you done ? " he 
 said. " Davies called upon me in the City this 
 morning and expressed a hope that I should 
 not fail to put matters right by the day named. 
 He seemed quite in his usual health." 
 
 " He is," I replied. " Probably he never 
 felt better in all his life. But why is he so 
 anxious that you should pay back the 
 money ? " I queried. " It surely doesn't 
 affect him. He wants to profit by your 
 defalcations, but I can't exactly sec how he 
 would, if you raised the money and repaid it." 
 
 " Well, he is jointly responsible with 
 myself," Farnell replied. 
 
 " But if he could show that he had no 
 knowledge that you had withdrawn the money, 
 there surely could be no charge against him," 
 I exclaimed. " No, Mr. Farnell, the fellow's 
 game was purely one of blackmail. He 
 intended that you should give him five 
 hundred, or perhaps a thousand, to allow 
 matters to drift along for a few weeks longer. 
 Then another demand — and so on." 
 
 20
 
 3o6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " You think so ? " asked my patient. 
 
 " I'm sure of it. But if my diagnosis be 
 correct, lie will not have an opportunity. I 
 shall not call here again till the day I have 
 named — and then it will be to receive my fee 
 of eight hundred pounds," I added with a 
 laugh. 
 
 " And it will afford me the greatest pleasure 
 to hand it to you, Dr. d'Escombe," he 
 answered. " Only my curiosity is aroused. 
 Do tell me what means you are employing to 
 bring matters to a successful issue." 
 
 "No, Mr. Farnell," I responded. "You 
 must forgive me if I refuse to expose to you 
 the cause. Your only interest is in the effect. 
 Remember, you left it entirely to my dis- 
 
 cretion." 
 
 "Ah, I see!" he said. "By Jove! d'Es- 
 combe, you're a wary bird. You'd make a 
 fortune in the City. I quite discern your 
 point. If I knew your method, I might talk, 
 eh?" 
 
 I smiled again in the affirmative. After- 
 wards we played a game of billiards, and I 
 left just before eleven o'clock. 
 
 On the following Saturday evening I met 
 Davies by appointment at the " Berkeley," and 
 we dined together, and afterwards went to
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 307 
 
 the Alhambra. He complained of bad pains 
 in his head. 
 
 " My nerves seem all unstrung," he said. 
 " I don't know what's been the matter with 
 me for the past couple of days. I'm entirely 
 out of sorts." 
 
 " Ah ! I expect you want a change. Too 
 much City. Why don't you go to Brighton, 
 or somewhere, for a few days ? " 
 
 " Because, just now, d'Escombe, I'm very 
 busy," he declared. " I have to attend to 
 several important and private matters — business 
 that nobody can conduct for me." 
 
 " But I don't like your symptoms," I said. 
 " One should never neglect a nervous attack." 
 
 " You'll have to prescribe for me, d'Es- 
 combe," he said with a laugh, as we leaned 
 over the back of the grand circle of the 
 theatre. " That sore on my lip has completely 
 healed." 
 
 " I told you it would, if you persevered 
 with the ointment," was my reply. 
 
 "Well, you'll now have to cure my nerves," 
 he declared. 
 
 " I'll call to-morrow, if you really wish it," 
 I said. " But, I somehow hate treating 
 personal friends. I wish you'd call in a local 
 man. There's Spencer, in Jermyn Street — a 
 
 20*
 
 3o8 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 most excellent man, who has, I believe, a very- 
 large practice about here. Why not consult 
 him ? I'll also look in, but only as a con- 
 sultant." 
 
 " Why don't you like to treat me ? " he 
 asked quickly. 
 
 " Because I always think it best for my 
 friends to be treated by other practitioners. 
 I've found it so all through my career," I 
 said, perhaps lamely. 
 
 " I had Spencer once — about a year ago." 
 
 " Then have him again. There's nothing 
 to be alarmed at, as far as I can see. Only, 
 if I were you, I would let him see you. 
 There can be no harm in it." 
 
 " None. You are quite right, d'Escombe. I 
 shall call on him to-morrow." 
 
 It was long past midnight when we parted. 
 I was quite willing for Spencer to see the 
 man, for I knew that, on discovering the true 
 nature of the disease, he would never suspect 
 its real cause, and moreover, whatever efforts 
 he might make with the serum treatment, all 
 would be without avail. The period of incul- 
 cation had been too long. No power on earth 
 could now save him. 
 
 Well, my dear fellow, my surmise proved 
 correct.
 
 I MAKE A LITTLE PRESENT 309 
 
 When I called two days later I found 
 Spencer with him. The patient was in bed 
 suffering from spasms, especially of the muscles 
 of deglutition and respiration, with excitement 
 evidenced by delirium. 
 
 " This is a curious case," the smart, elderly 
 practitioner declared, as we both stood beside 
 the unconscious man. " At present, I've not 
 been able to diagnose it properly." 
 
 I pretended to make an effort to diagnose 
 it, but without avail. 
 
 Next day I called before Spencer arrived, 
 and found Davies conscious again. 
 
 " By Jove, d'Escombe," he exclaimed, " I'm 
 having a bad time. But you'll pull me 
 through, won't you, old chap ? " he implored 
 me. 
 
 " Of course we'll get you right again," I 
 assured him. Then, with a few comforting 
 words, I left. 
 
 Really, I felt rather sorry for him, because I 
 knew of the agony that must ensue. 
 
 On Wednesday, when I called at eleven, 
 Spencer was again with him, but he was again 
 unconscious. 
 
 "Rabies," declared the doctor. "Yesterday, 
 he told me that he had been bitten by a 
 farmer's dog while out shooting, nine months
 
 310 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 ago. I at once obtained some Pasteur serum, 
 but, as you see, the case is rapid and hopeless." 
 
 On Thursday morning, when I asked Spencer 
 over the telephone of his patient, I was 
 scarcely surprised to learn that he had expired 
 in terrible agony soon after two o'clock that 
 morning. 
 
 So, at noon, I kept my appointment with 
 old Farnell, and received the eight-hundred- 
 pound fee for my little account — with the 
 extra hundred added. 
 
 And that same evening, after a visit to the 
 dead man's chambers to take a last look at 
 him, Mr. Farnell carried away with him 
 certain proofs of his own defalcations which, 
 if not destroyed, might have been attended 
 with rather unpleasant results.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 IN WHICH A RED-HAIRED LADY SHEDS TEARS 
 
 T HAVE often mentioned to you, I feel sure, 
 •^ among my many rambling letters, that I 
 have always posed as a ladies' man ; but that 
 word pose does not include all my dealings 
 with the so-called " fair " sex. I have had my 
 periods of temporary infatuation, even madness, 
 and apropos of the following incident, I repeat 
 my old axiom : " Fight shy of red-haired men, 
 but follow red-haired women." 
 
 I had one curious, and somewhat instructive 
 little episode proving my phrase, I think, in 
 which I ran some risk, and from which I only 
 gained the gratitude and temporary affection 
 of a very red-haired woman, and in addition I 
 lost a sovereign — the cost of a wreath for her 
 husband — and an hour of my valuable time 
 expended in attending his funeral. 
 
 The Manne-Martyns came to live, as you no 
 doubt will remember, in Phillimore Gardens 
 
 311
 
 312 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 about four years after I started practice in 
 Cromwell Road, but if I recollect rightly, 
 my dear Brown, you had but Httlc to do with 
 them. The man was certainly very objection- 
 able, although he was without a doubt a 
 gentleman, as far as blood and education were 
 concerned. 
 
 I can still easily call to mind the first time 
 that I met Rita Manne-Martyn, although I 
 knew her by sight before. 
 
 It was on a cold wet night, and I was 
 comfortably settled in a big chair with a pipe 
 of Perique, and Haeckel's " Riddle of the 
 Universe," when the sound of the night-bell 
 made me groan. " Always the way," I growled, 
 " one is certain to have a night visit if the 
 weather is extra bad." 
 
 As everybody else was in bed I went to the 
 door, which, as I opened it, admitted a bitter 
 blast of north wind accompanied by drift- 
 ing sleet, and also a female figure in a white 
 cloak — an opera-cloak — ye gods ! for a night 
 like that. 
 
 " Are you Dr. d'Escombe," gasped a parti- 
 cularly sweet voice. " Please let me come in, 
 and do shut the door." 
 
 " Yes, I am Dr. d'Escombe," I answered, 
 as I carried out her order. " Please come
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 313 
 
 inside. Surely you are very unwise to come 
 out dressed in this way on such a night," and 
 I led the way to my smoking-room with its 
 warm, cosy lire. 
 
 I glanced at her as I handed her a chair, 
 and was astonished to see how wonderfully 
 handsome she was, because although I had seen 
 her before on a few occasions, I had not 
 noticed that fact. 
 
 " Mrs. Manne-Martyn, I believe ? " I ven- 
 tured to say, and as she sat down I saw that 
 she had on a black, very decolletS, evening dress 
 and thin satin drawing-room slippers, which 
 were soaked through and most certainly ruined. 
 
 " What can I do for you ? I fear there 
 must be something serious the matter to bring 
 you out to me like this," I said as I took her 
 opera-cloak and hung it over the back of a 
 chair. I wondered in my own mind most 
 consumedly why this pretty woman had come 
 to see me in this strange and unorthodox kind 
 of way. 
 
 " I — I hardly know how to tell you, ,Dr. 
 d'Escombe," she replied, her shortness of 
 breath caused, I imagined, partly by the storm 
 blowing outside which she had braved, and 
 partly by agitation. " My husband, he is ill — 
 perhaps dying — I don't know. Oh ! you will
 
 314 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 help me, won't you ? because — his people know 
 that we quarrel — and they might say " 
 
 Her really beautiful dark blue eyes, full of 
 tears, looked at me most appealingly, as though 
 she thought I could understand everything. 
 
 " Say what ? " 
 
 "Well, I must tell you — nobody else knows 
 — but he smokes 'hasheesh' — Indian hemp, 
 you know — and I'm afraid he's had too much. 
 He's quite different to what he usually is. 
 Will you come now ? " 
 
 I must say I didn't hke the look of things 
 at all. There was evidently something "not 
 quite straight;" not that I cared, from the 
 ordinary point of view. I was only thinking 
 of myself, although I could not restrain a 
 certain regard for this charming red-haired 
 visitor. ^,^^^ 
 
 " I will order a taxi," I suggested. 
 
 " No, no ; it's only a quarter of a mile — see, 
 I've walked it once," interupted my visitor. 
 " Won't you come back with me now ? I can't 
 wait," she urged. 
 
 Certainly if she — a young and delicate-looking 
 woman — could do it, so could I. I considered 
 for a moment. 
 
 "Very well, Mrs. Martyn, I will brave the 
 storm ; if you can, I can," I said.
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 315 
 
 She looked at her drenched evening shoes 
 and muddy stockings and gave a little shor""! 
 hard laugh. 
 
 " One would think I love my husband very 
 dearly, wouldn't they ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Excuse me one moment," I said, as I went 
 to put on my bad-weather garments, thinking 
 and wondering all the time. She was very 
 pretty ; and she was afraid — of what ? 
 
 We started off through the driving snow 
 together towards Kensington Road. I offered 
 my arm, which was accepted, but so fierce was 
 the wind that conversation was practically 
 impossible. Consequently when I arrived at 
 the house I knew scarcely anything of my case. 
 
 " You must get those wet clothes off at 
 once," I said to my companion. " Shall I 
 wait for you ? " 
 
 " No — yes — yes. I won't be long. Won't 
 you sit down ? and I will be with you in a 
 few moments." 
 
 My new patient lived in a very decent 
 house, as you will remember. No doubt they 
 had money, for the room in which I waited 
 was beautifully furnished, and showed the 
 touch of a woman's hand in the various flower- 
 yases and nick-nacks which adorned it. 
 
 " Indian hemp," I muttered as I waited.
 
 3i6 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " I wonder Iiow long he has taken it, and if 
 his mind is affected yet ? " 
 
 The lady returned very soon, and seeing her 
 in the bright light, with her hat off, I noticed 
 that her eyes were swollen and red. She had 
 been crying. 
 
 " Will you come up, doctor ? I'll show you 
 the way," she said. So I followed her 
 promptly. 
 
 Lying on a couch at the foot of a single bed, 
 in a comparatively small room, was a man in 
 a dressing-gown, his face purple and bloated, 
 his breathing slow, heavy and stertorous. 
 This, combined with thin feeble pulse, the 
 condition of the pupils, and the insensitive 
 eye-balls, told me that his wife was correct — 
 he was suffering from poison. Was it what I 
 had been told ? 
 
 Ideas pass through one's mind swiftly under 
 such circumstances — particularly so, perhaps, in 
 mine — and I kept on wondering. She had 
 told me they quarrelled. The man, as I had 
 seen him before in the street, and as I saw 
 him now, comatose and half dead, gave me 
 the impression of being a brute. Dissipation 
 was written large in his fat face, and I could 
 well understand him being cruel, and repulsive 
 also, to such a woman as this — his wife. Had
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 317 
 
 she attempted to kill him, and was she playing 
 a part ? 
 
 I decided to be very careful both in word 
 and action, noticing as I did that the demean- 
 our of the servant, elderly and sour of visage, 
 was not that of a friendly domestic. She 
 appeared to be somewhat of an inimical 
 character, and was in close attendance on the 
 sick man. 
 
 " You say that he is in the habit of smoking 
 ' hasheesh ' ? " I inquired of the lady, in a tone 
 of voice which the servant could not help but 
 hear. 
 
 " Yes, doctor," was the answer ; " and to- 
 night we have been playing bridge and he lost 
 every rubber. This seemed to irritate him, 
 and he retired as soon as our friends left us to 
 have his usual smoke, and after — I found him 
 hke this ! " 
 
 There was but little for me to do, but of 
 course I had my hypodermic case with me, 
 and I gave him some strychnine to pull his 
 heart together, and then, having given a few 
 other minor instructions to the grim-faced 
 woman, I told Mrs. Manne-Martyn that we 
 could now only wait and watch the result. 
 
 " Has he ever been like this before ? " I 
 queried.
 
 3i8 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " Not so bad. I was never really frightened 
 before to-night, but, I suppose I ought to tell 
 you, he has been drinking very heavily for the 
 last two days — in fact, more or less for the 
 past two years." Her voice shook as the 
 sentence was completed, and I could look back 
 and see a world of misery, a life of horror, 
 which this refined, sensitive, pretty woman had 
 already passed through. 
 
 Don't be irritated with me, Brown, if I do 
 sometimes wax sentimental. You know there 
 is a strain of that trick in me, although you, 
 on reading these lines, would hardly think so. 
 
 I felt a great compassion, even pity, for the 
 unfortunate lady. I suppose my expression, or 
 perhaps my voice, told her this ; at any rate 
 sofne subtle form of telepathy occurred between 
 us, because, as I said : " I am afraid youVe 
 had a very bad time of it," she interrupted 
 me by laying her head on her bare arms — she 
 was in some neglige which showed the porcelain 
 whiteness and perfect contour of these very 
 distinctly — and breaking into a passion of deep, 
 silent sobs. 
 
 It hurt me to see this. I always hate to 
 see a woman really cry ; I don't mean the 
 trickle of tears and the red nose which can be 
 produced almost at will, such as you see in the
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 319 
 
 pit of the theatre, but the heart-breaking tears 
 of absolute despair. There I go again ! For- 
 give me, old boy, but I will not offend any 
 more. 
 
 I managed, ultimately, to quiet her, and 
 then asked for her story. 
 
 It was a sad one, and the man lying up- 
 stairs was evidently, as I thought from the 
 look of him, an absolute brute and blackguard. 
 She had plenty of marks to show of his 
 violence at different times. She showed me a 
 hardly-healed cut on her head, luckily hidden 
 by her abundant bronze-red hair. 
 
 " This is his last effort," she said with a 
 sickly smile. " He threw a teacup at me, and, 
 as it broke, it cut me, and he laughed when 
 he saw the blood trickle down my face and 
 neck. Oh ! how I hate him," she continued, 
 " and yet " 
 
 " Why do you go on like this ? " I asked. 
 " There are ways " 
 
 " Yes, but we have one little boy, and I 
 will not, while I can endure, let his name be 
 associated with anything disgraceful. That is 
 why I have borne it these last two years. Not 
 only him," she nodded towards the staircase, 
 " but that woman, who is an old servant of his 
 family, and his mother and sister. They all
 
 320 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 hate me and make my life more wretched, and 
 will believe nothing against him. I must wire 
 to them as soon as I can." 
 
 " What a pity if he should recover," I 
 thought to myself. When, however, I saw him 
 again before going home I felt I was going to 
 be disappointed. His heart was stronger, and 
 a very slight reflex had returned to the eyes. 
 He was going to recover, and I told his wife so. 
 
 " You will come in and see him again, won't 
 you. Dr. d'Escombe ? " she implored. " You've 
 no idea what a relief it is to have somebody 
 to confide in." 
 
 I went again, and yet again, and came to 
 know the man and his relations. But I got 
 to know Mrs. Manne-Martyn better, and it 
 was not long before I decided that her drunken, 
 drug-smoking husband should not cumber the 
 earth very much longer. 
 
 If I did carry out my decision, I could not 
 hide from myself the fact that I had a very 
 difficult and even dangerous proposition before 
 me. 
 
 There are some folks who, however objec- 
 tionable, however vile they may appear to be 
 in the eyes of the unbiased observer, have 
 someone whose outlook is blind as to their 
 faults ; someone who makes every excuse for
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 321 
 
 their shortcomings and will, at every turn, 
 allocate the blame to every source except the 
 right one. 
 
 In this case I had two such individuals to 
 deal with — Mrs. Manne-Martyn senior, and 
 her daughter, the younger sister of my patient. 
 
 He did not recover rapidly from his over- 
 dose of Indian hemp and alcohol, and at 
 the end of a fortnight I was still in daily 
 attendance. 
 
 I do not wish to say much about it. Brown, 
 but in that comparatively short time Mrs. 
 Manne-Martyn and I found ourselves upon 
 distinctly intimate terms. I imagined myself 
 seriously in love with her, and she — well, dear 
 little soul, she had been living a terrible life 
 for at least two years, and a little real 
 sympathy and help appealed to her more, 
 perhaps, than anything else could have done. 
 
 So my resolve to dispose of Julius Manne- 
 Martyn, Esquire, became more and more 
 decisive, but I fully appreciated the fact that 
 I had to get through a very vigilant and 
 suspicious defence, in the shape of the mother, 
 sister, and the afore-mentioned domestic. 
 
 On several occasions the sick man had 
 become delirious. He had certainly suffered 
 from a mild attack of delirium tremens, 
 
 21
 
 322 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 masked and mitigated hy his drug-taking. 
 While in this condition he never ceased to 
 rave against his wife, although I am quite 
 certain that he had not, even in his sanest 
 moments, any reason up to the present so to do. 
 
 " Traitor ! traitor ! " he would yell out. 
 " I know you hate me ! Kill me now ! Do 
 for me ! I know ; I have seen the loathing in 
 your eyes," and so ©n. His pitying relations 
 would stand by and nod their heads, look at 
 each other and say among themselves : " We 
 always knew it, didn't we ? Why did he marry 
 her ? " and so on, ad nauseam. 
 
 They would not allow her into the sick- 
 room. Not that she cared, for who could 
 have cared for a man like that ? But the 
 ignominy, the disgrace in front of the servants, 
 hurt her, and I felt that this could not go on. 
 
 The greatest care was necessary. He must 
 certainly die of something which was likely 
 and reasonable — some ailment absolutely above 
 suspicion, something which must, if necessary, 
 stand the searching of an expert post-mortem 
 examination, because it would be fatal to trust 
 in any way whatsoever the ultimate movements 
 or suspicions of the very prejudiced and 
 narrow-minded women with whom I now had 
 to deal and contend.
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 323 
 
 I paved the way for the idea which I had 
 in my mind by putting some bronchial 
 irritant into the mixture, combining it with 
 small doses of belladonna. I will tell you later 
 why I did so. Then, one day, the thought 
 flashed across me — why it had not occurred to 
 me before I cannot say, except perhaps that I 
 was badly infatuated — how would Rita be 
 situated when he died ? 
 
 It was a serious consideration. We had had 
 many a quiet talk together, but I fear 
 business matters had been allowed to sHde, 
 and I knew nothing of her affairs. And myself 
 — well, I've always been hard-up, and at that 
 particular time things were perhaps even a 
 trifle worse than usual. I was practically 
 living on credit. I could do nothing for her ; 
 you see, I had been hard hit in the rubber 
 boom — and, goodness knows, I kept my own 
 expenses low enough. 
 
 " Rita, darling," I said one evening, as she 
 sat with me in her cosy boudoir, " how 
 would you be situated if he were to die ? " 
 
 Her slim fingers tightened upon my arm. 
 '' He — die ! " she laughed, a quiet hopeless 
 laugh. " Don't dream of it, dear. He will 
 live to make my life a curse." 
 
 " Yes," I interrupted ; " but if he did ? " 
 
 21*
 
 324 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 "If he did?" she repeated. "The heavens 
 would fall. Why, I should be free, and I 
 should have the three hundred a year he 
 settled on me at first." 
 
 " You're sure ? " I felt that this had sealed 
 his fate. " You are quite sure ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes; he has often cursed himself for a 
 fool for doing it." 
 
 Every man has his moment of madness. I 
 have seldom given myself away, I think. 
 Luckily I had no cause to regret it; but I 
 did do so now. 
 
 " Then he dies," I said, my arm around her, 
 the words whispered into her ear. It sounds 
 melodramatic, but it was not. It was dead 
 serious determination. " And," I continued, 
 looking into her face, "you must help me." 
 
 " I — help you — how — what do you mean, 
 Archie ? " was the whispered answer. 
 
 " I can manage it easily, but I must have a 
 chance to get him by myself. Those women 
 must be got out of the way. Three — two — 
 minutes will do it, but it must be certain." 
 
 " Julius — die," she muttered, cHnging close 
 up to me in the semi-darkness. " Do you 
 mean it ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes, dear, I am speaking in earnest," 
 I answered. " I cannot see you go on like
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 325 
 
 this — with that man and those awful women. 
 I must help you." 
 
 " And the risk ? " 
 
 " I'll chance the risk," I answered, kissing 
 her, as I thought to myself that it was not 
 the first I had run by many. 
 
 " You must go now, Archie," said my 
 companion. '' They'll miss me ; I am always 
 spied upon, but — yes, I'll help you. Oh, how 
 can I thank you ? — but you must not do it. 
 Why take this awful risk ? " 
 
 " None at all, Rita," I replied as we kissed 
 good-night. " None — if you can keep the 
 
 secret." 
 
 " I would die sooner than say one word 
 which would implicate you ; I swear it. Oh, 
 only " 
 
 I stopped her ; she was inclined to get 
 hysterical. She was one of those highly-strung, 
 nervous women with an infinity of pluck under 
 trying circumstances, but who, curiously enough, 
 break down very easily when their affections or 
 sympathies are aroused. I knew she had grown 
 very fond of me, so I felt compelled to put 
 on the brake, as it were. 
 
 " Pull yourself together, dear," I spoke 
 quietly, and very quickly soothed her excited 
 nerves.
 
 326 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 God ! Laurence, I'm fond of her still — if only 
 things had turned out right ! But there, they 
 did not. 
 
 " Come and see me at my consulting hour 
 to-morrow," I said as I kissed her again, and 
 strolled down Phillimore Gardens home, to 
 think matters over. 
 
 I had started Manne-Martyn with an artificial 
 cough, and I had given him dilated pupils, 
 which his attendants had noticed. So far I 
 was on the road. 
 
 But the opportunity had to be made, and 
 Rita, much as I disliked the idea, must help 
 me, must draw off the enemy, while I, the 
 preliminaries having been arranged, brought off 
 the final coup. 
 
 " What do you think of my son, doctor," 
 asked my patient's mother on the morning 
 following my revelation to Rita. " Is he really 
 improving ? He is sure to get well again — is he 
 not ? " 
 
 " As far as I can see, madam." 
 
 " I believe it is all Rita's fault," she said ; 
 " she has treated him shamefully, poor fellow ! 
 He has been driven to do wrong " 
 
 " That is really nothing to do with me, Mrs. 
 Manne-Martyn," I declared, for I feared that 
 if she went on in that strain I might arouse
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 327 
 
 suspicion in her mind. If I showed the 
 sHghtest regard for Rita my prestige as family 
 doctor was gone. 
 
 " When do you think you will allow him out 
 of bed ? " asked his sister — a seriously-dressed 
 lady in tailor-made coat and skirt, and with 
 a hard, most unpleasant expression on her 
 face. 
 
 " He's slow in picking up," I answered, 
 " but the nursing is just now everything. I 
 must congratulate you on your knowledge of 
 such work. The way you manage him is 
 really wonderful." 
 
 He was still quite unable to do anything by 
 himself alone, and required constant help. 
 
 " I ought to warn you," I continued, 
 " against the possible risk of a relapse. Such 
 things are not uncommon in cases like this." 
 
 " Oh, doctor, I do hope not," chimed in 
 the mother. " He is getting every attention, 
 and we are doing all we can. Your instructions 
 are being carried out to the very letter." 
 . This was what I was anxious to know, as 
 the idea in my mind made time, punctuahty, 
 that is to say, the essential factor. 
 
 I had another long talk with Rita on the 
 subject of her husband's decease, and ultimately 
 the' innate devil in her broke through the
 
 328 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 veneer of morality, and we laid our plans 
 carefully, and without reserve on either side. 
 
 " And after ? " said she. 
 
 After — I hardly knew. I was desperately in 
 love with her for the time ; I'll defy any man 
 with an eye to the artistic, and a mind, a soul, 
 an inner consciousness of sex, call it what you 
 like, untrammelled by artificial laws and customs, 
 to be anything else. I am positive there are 
 some women whom no man can resist — that is, 
 if the woman is in real dead earnest. Rita 
 was one of ^hose. 
 
 " i ou must manage to put a small narcotic 
 dose into his food or drink to-morrow morning 
 at breakfast time. You can manage that — can't 
 you, Rita ? " I inquired. " I will give you a 
 little phial when I see you to-night. It will 
 l^e •'. very tiny dose." 
 
 . intended to give the doomed man — for 
 doomed he was as soon as my plans were laid 
 — enough of a concentrated preparation of 
 belladonna to send him off into a sound sleep 
 for some hours. 
 
 That being accomplished, I proposed to make 
 my daily call in the afternoon, because the 
 " dragon " and her daughter invariably drove for 
 an hour or two after lunch, visiting and shop- 
 ping. So I had then only one enemy to deal with.
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 329 
 
 Now I had decided some time since to use, if I 
 used anything at all for a deadly purpose, 
 bacteria called the diplococcus lanceolatus, which 
 I have mentioned to you once before — a germ 
 which in the lung causes pneumonia, but 
 which, curiously enough, if it takes its habitat 
 in some other portion of the body, sets up a 
 totally different set of symptoms, such as 
 inflammation of the brain, or of a joint, the 
 main point being that the result is almost 
 invariably fatal, and quite beyond the possibility 
 of discovery by ordinary methods. 
 
 If I had three minutes with Mr. Manne- 
 Martyn on the following afternoon I could, 
 assisted by my faithful hypodermic, put into 
 his circulation a sufficient amount of this germ- 
 infection to, with the smallest pinch of luck, 
 assist him rapidly to leave a world which he 
 certainly did not adorn. 
 
 It was impossible to say where he would be 
 attacked. Time alone would show. But I had 
 to depend upon Rita to create a diversion, to 
 remove for a sufficiently long time the sour- 
 visaged Martha. This was the weak point of 
 the plan of campaign. 
 
 Would my fellow-conspirator be successful ? 
 
 " What will you do ? " I had inquired of her. 
 
 " Leave it to me ; I will manage it," was
 
 330 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 the answer I got. And no more information 
 was given. " Only be ready when Martha 
 leaves you alone with him," she added. 
 
 I gave the poor little ill-used woman the 
 narcotic dose that night, and as I left her she 
 said, almost gaily : " Au revoir, till to-morrow 
 at half-past three. You may rely upon 
 me." 
 
 True to time, with the germ-culture in the 
 barrel of my syringe, I arrived at the house 
 and, of course, found Martha at the bedside of 
 my patient. 
 
 " He's just gone off into a heavy sleep, 
 doctor," she informed me, after I had told 
 her that an important case had kept me 
 during the morning, " and Mrs. Manne-Martyn 
 hardly liked leaving him, but I promised her 
 that I would not leave the room, or let her," 
 she nodded towards the staircase, " come 
 
 in." 
 
 I proceeded in a methodical manner to 
 examine my patient. He was breathing 
 heavily, snoring in fact. But I had hardly 
 finished taking his pulse-rate — much I cared 
 about it ! — when a terrified shriek rang through 
 the house — a most thrilling and ear-piercing 
 scream. 
 
 It was Rita's voice. What had happened ?
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 331 
 
 I started for the door, and then, " Martha, 
 Martha, come quickly," the voice of the 
 housemaid came from below. 
 
 The old servant listened for a second or 
 two, and then another scream resounded through 
 the house, and turning to me, she said 
 hurriedly : 
 
 " Will you excuse me for one moment, 
 doctor ? Somebody is hurt, I'm afraid. It 
 sounds like young Mrs. Martyn." 
 
 " All right, run along quickly and see," I 
 answered, but I felt upset, and hardly knew 
 what to do. Had Rita really hurt herself ? 
 Surely those cries of pain were not simulated. 
 
 However, for the moment I hardened my 
 heart, screwed the needle on to the syringe 
 and, pushing the point deep into the back of 
 the sleeper's neck, pressed the piston down to 
 the bottom of the barrel. 
 
 The apparently unconscious man aroused 
 with a yell. The pain of the needle had 
 awakened him. He turned so rapidly as to 
 break off the point of the needle and leave it 
 deeply imbedded in the tissues ! 
 
 Then, as I hurriedly pocketed the remainder 
 of the broken instrument, he sat up in bed, 
 howling out : " Help, help ! murder " 
 
 My wits almost left me for a moment.
 
 332 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 What was wrong downstairs I knew not, but 
 I felt very anxious with this new compli- 
 cation. 
 
 It takes time to write this, Brown, but the 
 whole business, from start to finish, had 
 occurred in a few seconds, and, to make 
 matters worse, who should appear in the door- 
 way but the sick man's mother and sister. 
 
 " Why, whatever is the matter ? " inquired 
 the elder lady breathlessly. " Has this house 
 gone mad ? " 
 
 Rushing up to the man, who was still calling 
 out and howling, she put her hand on his 
 head. 
 
 " What have you done. Dr. d'Escombe ? " 
 she asked severely. " Poor boy — my poor dear 
 boy ! " addressing the fat-faced son, who kept 
 on murmuring " Help ! murder ! " 
 
 The old lady looked suspiciously at me. 
 " Something has brought him to this state, 
 and Martha is not here, doctor. What does 
 this mean ? " 
 
 "Don't be alarmed, madam," I said as 
 quietly as I could. The position was very 
 awkward, especially with that broken needle to 
 be reckoned with. And then, Rita ! I must 
 go and find out what was wrong with her. 
 
 " There has been some accident downstairs,
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 333 
 
 I fear," I continued. " What is it ? Can I 
 help ? " 
 
 " No, no, doctor ; don't leave Julius. It is 
 only that silly girl. She has scalded her hand ; 
 Martha is there, but how dare she leave this 
 room ? What a lucky thing we were anxious, 
 and returned early." 
 
 " Is Ri — is Mrs. Martyn injured ? " — my 
 voice shook a little I am sure. " I hope it's 
 not serious ? " 
 
 " No, not at all," answered the unsympa- 
 thetic old lady. " Please attend to my son." 
 
 He was still rolling about in bed, but 
 getting a little more rational. 
 
 " Poor old Julius," said his hard-faced sister ; 
 " it's all right ; nobody will hurt you." But 
 all the time I was on tenter-hooks. Would 
 that broken needle be discovered ? 
 
 " I think Mrs. Manne-Martyn's cries upset 
 him," I explained. " There is nothing wrong 
 with him ; in fact, he is much better." 
 
 " It was very wrong of Martha to leave him," 
 persisted the elder woman. Her callousness as 
 to the sufferer downstairs made me so cross 
 that I threw caution to the winds, and said : 
 " I think I ought to go and see if I can do 
 anything for Mrs. Martyn." And I strode out 
 of the room.
 
 334 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Poor, brave little woman ; she had purposely 
 poured some boiling water over her left hand 
 so that no suspicion could arise as to the cause 
 of her diversion of Martha's watchfulness. I 
 found her crying with pain. However, I 
 dissembled my fears of discovery, and gave her 
 a reassuring nod. After her plucky way of 
 going to work I felt compelled to make the 
 best of things. 
 
 I dressed her hand, with various little sur- 
 reptitious squeezings, and went home, still 
 wondering what would happen. 
 
 Was I to be discovered, after all, in an affair 
 which brought me nothing ? Or would my 
 luck still hold good ? Much depended upon 
 how the diplococcus acted — where would it 
 form a colony of poisonous germs, ever growing 
 and spreading through the blood-stream ? 
 Would he die of meningitis, pneumonia or 
 pyaemia ? I did not want pneumonia. I could 
 only hope for the quickest end. 
 
 One thing was certain. I must be in con- 
 stant attendance, and if I could get a moment, 
 remove the broken half of that tell-tale needle. 
 
 Next morning I called early, when my 
 patient's mother received me coldly. I could 
 see she had taken offence at my action of the 
 previous afternoon. But so far all was well.
 
 A LADY SHEDS TEARS 335 
 
 As to my patient, his temperature had already 
 risen a degree and a half. Something was at 
 work — somewhere. Where ? 
 
 It was a curious waiting for a day or two, 
 Brown. I knew that a determination must 
 arise, but was helpless to say what. I only 
 saw the little woman just to dress her badly 
 scalded hand, and, when I got a chance, to 
 reprimand her severely for taking so drastic a 
 course. 
 
 " I promised you, dear," she said, " and I 
 meant to keep my word thoroughly." 
 
 On the third day Manne-Martyn became 
 delirious and so seriously ill that his mother 
 demanded a consultation. 
 
 We got Hubert Harrison, of Harley Street, 
 but as I told him beforehand about the 
 hasheesh and the alcohol he did not bother 
 himself. In fact asked me what I would like 
 him to say. 
 
 " He's certainly going to die, is he not ? " I 
 suggested. 
 
 " Most certainly," answered the specialist. 
 " It looks like acute meningitis." 
 
 "Then tell them straight out," I said. "And 
 mention that I could not, in your opinion, 
 have done anything more." 
 
 " Of course, of course," replied the great
 
 336 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 man. " I'm sure of that. Really a good thing, 
 I expect," he concluded. 
 
 There was, of course, intense agitation and 
 many tears as the result of his opinion ; but I 
 took no heed. I could not forget the sick man's 
 treatment of his wife. 
 
 Well — he died, and when I made my final 
 examination by myself, I managed to withdraw 
 that incriminating piece of steel. 
 
 I ran a very big risk over that. If only he 
 had at any time been rational enough to locate 
 the seat of his pain I should have probably 
 been discovered. 
 
 But the Devil looks after his own, and 
 certainly he kept a watchful eye over me on 
 that occasion. 
 
 I saw a good deal of the widow for some 
 months after this, but I was too busy to see 
 her often enough, and she found and married 
 a fellow on the Stock Exchange. 
 
 Yes, Rita was very charming, but dangerous 
 — and fickle.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 IN WHICH I AM DISCOVERED ! 
 
 I ^HIS is the last episode in my career, 
 -■- because, old friend, before to-morrow's 
 sun rises, I shall have discovered whether there 
 be a hereafter or not. You know well that 
 I have always been a pure agnostic — knowing 
 nothing, believing nothing — risking everything ! 
 With all my care and attention to detail I 
 have at last been found out ! 
 
 Certainly a most unlooked-for and out of 
 the way grouping together of circumstances 
 has been the cause. 
 
 I knew that sooner or later, if I continued 
 taking risks, that the end would come. It has. 
 This is a serious and hanging affair. However, 
 I have had ten years of hfe — of hfe, man, not 
 of the plant-like existence lived by most folk, 
 but ten years, with every minute giving me 
 the feeHng of being really and actively alive. 
 
 What a difference ! 
 
 337 22
 
 338 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 Of course, you are anxious to hear my story. 
 It is the last one, the grand finale, of More 
 d'Escombe. 
 
 If I had not been a keen fisherman, I 
 should not be writing this. Now I have 
 thrown my last fly — I'm sorry — for some 
 thines. 
 
 About a month ago, I went for the week- 
 end to Dingley, in Hampshire, a village where 
 I can get some good trout fishing from the 
 landlord of the inn, and in which I rent a 
 small cottage during the all-too-short season — 
 April to the early part of June. I went out 
 on the Sunday, ready for a happy day, my 
 luncheon case and flask full, plenty of spare 
 tackle, and flies galore. 
 
 A very good rise took place about eleven, 
 but for the life of me I couldn't find the fly 
 they were taking. I could see about twenty 
 different patterns on the water, but the trout 
 were only taking one kind. I worked my way 
 up stream, and at last with a large very dark 
 olive, I got a brace of beauties within ten 
 minutes. 
 
 Shortly after this, I saw a lovely fish rising 
 continually in a run close by a large snag. 
 
 A most difficult spot to fish, but I could 
 see that the riser was an extra big one.
 
 I AM DISCOVERED 339 
 
 I threw too low down, and only just saved 
 my cast from the snag. 
 
 The next time the fly went right over him 
 — no, he wouldn't touch — when, splash ! and 
 my reel was ringing out with a lovely buzz, 
 and the rod was bent to its straining point. 
 
 By Jove ! What a beautiful trout ! How he 
 dashed about, now to one bank, now to the 
 other. If only I had a friend with me to 
 land my prize. 
 
 A harsh voice broke in on my thoughts. 
 
 " Give us the net, Guv'nor ; I'll land him 
 for you." 
 
 I looked round, and saw a ragged, dirty- 
 looking man, with loafer and vagabond written 
 in his coarse face and bleared eyes. 
 
 *' Do you know how ? " I inquired hurriedly. 
 
 He laughed a rasping guffaw. 
 
 " Do I know how ! I 'specs I've caught 
 more trout than you've ever thought of," he 
 said. " Does old Bob Gye know how ? " 
 
 " All right," I snapped ; " take the net, then, 
 and don't stand there laughing in that silly 
 way." 
 
 He certainly did his part of the work well, 
 and the eyes of the old poacher, as I suspected 
 him to be, glistened as he held up a lovely 
 fish well over three pounds. 
 
 22*
 
 340 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 As he held up the capture at arm's length, 
 I gave a sudden start. 
 
 At last I had found a means at hand to 
 make five thousand pounds, which just then 
 was being dangled in front of me by Sir 
 Walter Michelcombe. He was an immensely 
 wealthy man, as you know, old chap, middle- 
 aged, tall and handsome, and with a charming, 
 pretty little wife. 
 
 But here was the trouble. 
 
 Michelcombe told me the whole thing in 
 my house one night, being at the time very 
 talkative and off his guard. 
 
 He put it down to the whisky. 
 
 It seems that he had fallen desperately in 
 love with an actress in London, but she, 
 knowing he was married, would have nothing 
 to say to him. 
 
 This rejection only inflamed him the more, 
 and he openly said in my room that night — 
 meaning what he said, too — that he would 
 give five thousand to be rid of his wife. 
 
 I laughingly said, " How long do you give 
 me to do this for you ? " 
 
 " A month — not a day longer." 
 
 " Very well." I jotted down a few words 
 on an envelope and said, "Will you sign 
 this ? "
 
 I AM DISCOVERED 341 
 
 He read it — looked at me with wonder and 
 yet fear in his eyes. 
 
 "Are you serious ? " he asked. 
 
 " As serious as a man can be at this time of 
 night, but sign it — no harm done anyway," I 
 rephed. 
 
 He signed. It was an I.O.U. for ^^5,000 — 
 provided the conditions were fulfilled. 
 
 That was all — no conditions were mentioned. 
 
 This conversation was vividly recalled to my 
 mind by the tramp, for on his wrist was a 
 bright circular spot, with an inflamed angry- 
 looking blush around it. 
 
 " How long have you had that, my man ? " 
 I inquired. 
 
 " I got that unloading skins at Bristol two 
 days ago," he growled, " and damnation bad I 
 be with it." 
 
 I examined it carefully. It was anthrax — 
 malignant pustule — without a doubt. 
 
 " If that is not removed immediately," I said 
 to him, " it's all up with you. Master Bob 
 Gye. Do you understand, it's got to be cut 
 out to save your life." 
 
 The poor wretch became suddenly faint, and 
 a deadly livid pallor took the place of his 
 beery redness, the while his knees were 
 trembling violently.
 
 342 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 I pulled out my flask. 
 
 " Here, man, have a good drink, and cheer 
 up. Don't give in. I'm a doctor myself, and 
 if you like to come to my cottage this even- 
 ing, I will remove that horrible sore, and put 
 you right again. In the meantime, for God's 
 sake, keep it covered up — don't let a soul catch 
 sight of it. You're highly infectious, and if 
 you are caught now, you will certainly be shut 
 up for some time. Here's half-a-crown, and 
 get some light good food and come and see 
 me at nine." I told him the name of my 
 cottage, and was not sorry to see him slouch off. 
 
 You say to yourself, Brown, " That's not quite 
 like More d'Escombe, to operate on an ordinary 
 tramp, especially in such an infectious and 
 deadly condition." 
 
 Quite right, old man, but I wanted the 
 anthrax bacillus, and here was the opportunity 
 to get it — far from home — far from London — 
 far from the person who would develop it. 
 
 In London I could have made a stab- 
 culture in gelatine, or a culture on either agar 
 or blood serum. I knew the colonies of bacilli. 
 I had observed them often beneath my 
 microscope, beautiful wavy wreaths, like locks 
 of hair, radiating from the centre and 
 apparently terminating in a point which, how-
 
 I AM DISCOVERED 343 
 
 ever, on examination with a high power 
 objective, is observed to be a filament which 
 turns upon itself. 
 
 Yes, my dear fellow, as you know by 
 experience, bacteriology is a beautiful study. 
 You discover fresh forms of life every day. 
 
 The bacillus anthracis is extremelv interest- 
 ing. In bouillon, after twenty-four hours' 
 incubation at 37° C., there are shown irregu- 
 larly spiral threads suspended in the liquid. 
 And these, on being examined, are seen to be 
 made up of bundles of parallel chains of 
 bacilli. Later growth is more abundant and 
 forms a flocculent mass at the bottom of the 
 fluid. But I wanted it at once, and the 
 delay necessary for cultivation was by this 
 happy chance avoided. 
 
 I did no more fishing on that day. I had 
 two miles to walk back to the domicile. 
 
 I strolled along the bank, smoking and 
 thinking deeply — so deeply that I almost ran 
 into a very pretty and well-dressed nurse who 
 was going in the opposite direction. 
 
 I note with a strange, cynical amusement 
 how the present impasse has arisen through a 
 number of things happening which were, not 
 merely one or two, but the whole of them, 
 most unlikely and extraordinary.
 
 344 THE DEATH-DOCTOR ; ' 
 
 The fact of meeting this nurse, little as I 
 knew it, was the first link which was to drag 
 me out of this sphere. I looked at her with a 
 languid interest, wondering who was ill in the 
 neighbourhood, and noticing the well-cut 
 features and handsome figure which she 
 possessed. 
 
 She, in her turn, looked me straight in the 
 face as she passed. I arrived home, took 
 off my fishing clothes, and settled down to a 
 most excellent fittle dinner. 
 
 I could hardly believe that the tramp would 
 face the music, but I got the material ready 
 for removing the pustule. Most certainly, 
 nine tramps out of ten would have shied at 
 the knife, but this one formed the second hnk 
 of the chain, made up of improbabihties, by 
 turning up. 
 
 Very ill and bad he looked, and I gave him 
 as httle chloroform as possible, and did the 
 small operation with the greatest dispatch. 
 
 When he came round, he had a drink — the 
 poor wretch couldn't eat — and then I gave 
 him five shillings, and told him to take the 
 train out of Dingley at once. 
 
 " If you're here to-morrow," I said, " I shall 
 be compelled to inform the local authorities 
 about you." 
 
 /
 
 I AM DISCOVERED 345 
 
 He promised to go, and he did, much to 
 my satisfaction. 
 
 I now had the means of inoculating any 
 number of persons with anthrax, and no one 
 knew that such a bacillus was in my possession. 
 
 It is a very uncommon condition, and the 
 ordinary cultivation tubes could easily be 
 traced in London, if necessary. But here, as I 
 say, I was safe from possession of the virus 
 being attributed to me, if anything untoward 
 did crop up. 
 
 What a small and hopeless fool is man, if 
 fate is against him ! 
 
 I was always more or less in attendance on 
 Lady Michelcombe, who was a petite^ fragile- 
 looking little woman, with large dark eyes, 
 which opened wide when she talked to you, 
 and a charming, although somewhat childish 
 manner. A very lovable little lady, who looked 
 upon Michelcombe himself, big, burly, and 
 overbearing as he was, as her lord and master, 
 in very truth. 
 
 A woman who deserved to be loved and 
 made much of ; really a very pleasing character, 
 and yet Michelcombe wanted her out of the 
 way. 
 
 I must say I had a few qualms of conscience 
 at the idea of doing this, but I was dreadfully
 
 346 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 pushed for money ; you see, I have such 
 expensive tastes, and it is marvellous how 
 money goes. 
 
 I went a few days after my return from 
 Dingley to pay a professional call on Lady 
 Michelcombe, whom I found lying on a sofa, 
 clad in a most fascinating garment, which 
 somehow fixed itself on my mind. It was pale 
 yellow, made of some soft clinging material, 
 loosely made and yet at the same time 
 seeming to fit everywhere. 
 
 You will say to yourself, Brown, " It is 
 about time the poor fellow was out of it, if 
 he is coming to this." Well, I suppose I am 
 feehng a bit strained to-night, and I couldn't 
 help thinking about that frock. Lady Michel- 
 combe looked more childish than usual that 
 morning. 
 
 " You wicked man, you've quite deserted me 
 lately; now come and confess to me. Who 
 is it?" 
 
 " My dear Lady Michelcombe, instead of 
 chiding, you should pity me," I answered. 
 " I have been using great self-control in 
 remaining away for the week I arranged, and 
 overcome the temptation to run in and see 
 you every day." 
 
 *' I don't think I shall beUeve you," she said,
 
 I AM DISCOVERED 347 
 
 with the curious Httle rippHng laugh peculiar 
 to her. " I might have been dead and buried 
 for all you knew." 
 
 " You certainly look very much alive and 
 above ground at present, and you have on a 
 most charming gown," I repHed. 
 
 '• Now I want you to tell me about my 
 heart, doctor," said my patient. " I don't 
 believe it is quite right." 
 
 •' Oh, I am sure it is," I answered, " but I 
 v/ill make sure," and producing a stethoscope, I 
 went through the form of examining her chest. 
 While I was doing so she gave a little scream. 
 
 " Oh, doctor, you've scratched my arm, you 
 bad man." 
 
 " Where ? " I said, putting the stethoscope 
 away. 
 
 " Look, it's bleeding, you cruel monster ; and 
 see, there's the reason," pointing to my coat 
 sleeve, in the cuff of which was sticking a pin. 
 
 " I really am very sorry, Lady Michelcombe," 
 said L "I apologize most humbly. It is a 
 bad scratch. I will send you something to 
 put on it. It would never do to have an arm 
 like that disfigured for any length of time." 
 
 " Yes, and jt hurts, too. I dismiss you until 
 you show your contrition by attending person- 
 ally to the wound you have made."
 
 348 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 " I will come back very soon, and dress the 
 gash," I replied, with a smile, which she 
 returned. " Au revoir.''^ 
 
 In about half an hour the scratch was tied 
 up with a little ointment dressing on it. 
 
 The bacillus anthracis was abundant in the 
 ointment. I looked in again in the evening, 
 and exchanged the first box of ointment for 
 one that was innocuous, and went away, 
 feeling as safe as possible. 
 
 In two days. Lady Michelcombe was very 
 ill, and I had a consultant called in, and a 
 nurse sent for. 
 
 The consultant was a man known to be 
 against operating, and has attained his present 
 exalted position, not by the possession of much 
 learning or skill, but by a manner, a presence, 
 and a talent for diplomacy and tact. The 
 nurse — here again, note the unkindness of fate, 
 was, to my surprise, the very girl whom I had 
 met on the river bank some days before. She 
 informed me that she was Lord Michelcombe's 
 half-sister, but her manner was stiff and ungra- 
 cious. 
 
 I discovered that she was nursing not to 
 make a livelihood, but for the love of it. 
 
 Lady Michelcombe was operated on, in my 
 opinion, twenty-four hours too late.
 
 I AM DISCOVERED 349 
 
 She died on the following day, and many 
 searching inquiries were made as to the origin of 
 her illness. Of course, nothing was discovered, 
 and I felt quite safe. 
 
 Then came the worst, the " unkindest cut " of 
 all. That idiot Michelcombe developed anthrax, 
 evidently caught from his wife. He was a bad 
 subject, a notorious drinker, a man who had 
 Hved hard, and undermined his once fine 
 constitution. 
 
 A nasty, indescribable feeling came over me 
 when I was informed by a note from the nurse 
 that another medical man had been called in, 
 and that my services were not required. 
 
 I began to see red. Two days passed. They 
 seemed to me like two years. 
 
 What was happening ^ Was Michelcombe 
 going to pull through ? What would he say ? 
 How much could he let out ? Our arrangement 1 
 
 Discovery seemed impossible. I had covered 
 my tracks very carefully, yet my mind misgave 
 me. 
 
 I took an enormous quantity of morphia in 
 that time. On the second evening the storm 
 burst. 
 
 I heard the door-bell ring, and in a few 
 moments, " Miss Cardew " was announced. 
 
 Miss Cardew was the nurse — the nurse. She
 
 350 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 came into my room, pale-faced, with her 
 mouth set, and an ugly glint in her eyes. 
 
 " Lord Michelcombe died an hour ago," she 
 said, in a cold, calm voice, " and before he 
 died he told me the infamous and horrible 
 plot between you and him. How God allows 
 such a man as you to remain on this earth, is 
 a wonder to me. That such a cold-blooded, 
 heartless, wicked villain could exist, I have 
 never imagined." 
 
 " You are going a little too far, Miss 
 Cardew," said I. "May I ask you to what 
 you refer ? " 
 
 " To what ! Oh, if I were a man, and could 
 thrash you until you screamed for mercy — and 
 then let you die the death you brought on 
 that poor little woman." 
 
 " You make assertions which you are quite 
 unable to substantiate," I answered. " I beg 
 you to be careful in what you are saying 
 about me." 
 
 " You blind fool ! " she half shouted at me. 
 "You think I don't know — I know everything. 
 Little did you think that I, too, saw the 
 tramp at the village, and his wrist also." 
 
 This was the worst blow of all. Here was 
 the connecting evidence which could hang me. 
 What miserable luck!
 
 I AM DISCOVERED 351 
 
 I was too thunderstruck to say anything for 
 the moment, and she continued : 
 
 " Yes, he showed me his pustule, and asked 
 me if it was right to have it removed. Little 
 did I think that this wretch was to cause the 
 death of my best friend at the hands of the 
 greatest fiend unhung ! " 
 
 I stood dumbfounded. 
 
 Her eyes glared and flashed with passion as 
 she spoke, and if looks could kill, I should not 
 have survived a second. 
 
 I remained standing, looking almost fascinated, 
 as it were, at the woman who had run me to 
 earth, and who had the pluck to come and 
 tell me all she knew. 
 
 What could I do ? 
 
 " I am going to place all my facts before 
 the police to-morrow morning, if you are alive. 
 Dr. More d'Escombe. Doctor ! Good heavens ! 
 I wonder how many poor, unsuspecting 
 souls you have doctored to death ? You 
 have twelve hours, and a private detective is 
 watching you for me, if you try to bolt. 
 You're a coward, I've no doubt. If you take 
 the correct course, I shall keep quiet for the 
 sake of the reputation of the minor villain, my 
 dead half-brother. If I have never done a 
 good action before, and never do one again, I
 
 352 THE DEATH-DOCTOR 
 
 am satisfied with my life in ridding the world 
 of such a monster as you." 
 
 She turned swiftly and left the room before 
 I had time to say a word, leaving me still 
 standing. 
 
 I had a big drink, thought it over thoroughly. 
 There was no getting away from the evidence 
 Everything dove-tailed so beautifully. 
 
 I must go home to Kensington and die in 
 a respectable way, or something of the kind. 
 Only this one infernal woman knew. By Heaven ! 
 
 if I could silence her Ah ! — 
 
 ***** 
 
 I a.m. Bah ! it's no use, my old jriend, 1 
 can't get near her. She has a couple oj private 
 detectives on the watch. 
 
 Good-bye J Most probably, I shall go oj) jor my 
 last sleep in about an hour. 
 
 Beaten by a woman ! 
 
 Let my career serve as a warning to others. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Printed at The Chapel River Press, Kingston, Surrey.
 
 Paternoster House, 
 
 Paternoster Row, 
 
 London, E.G. 
 
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 12
 
 NEW 6- NOVELS 
 
 Baba and the Black Sheep 
 
 By E. W. SAVI 
 
 Author of "The Daughter-in-Law " (3rd edition), etc. 
 
 The story of an English girl placed, by circumstances, 
 in a unique position in Bengal. Her character and 
 thrilling adventures form the theme of the book into 
 which is also introduced, among other English people, a 
 man who has by his own folly wrecked his career and lost 
 his good name for ever. 
 
 " Baba's " conduct at a crisis when she was at the 
 mercy of the " Black Sheep," holds the reader spellbound. 
 How her influence works on the hardened nature of this 
 embittered man, is a triumph of the story-teller's art, and 
 lends the novel a positive charm. 
 
 The local colour is such as could' only have been written 
 by one who has lived on the spot, and who has by long 
 experience acquired a delightful understanding of native 
 character and ways. The reader is perforce moved to 
 tears and laughter during the reading of this most engaging 
 story. 
 
 13
 
 NEW 6/- NOVELS. 
 
 ANO^YMOUS 
 
 " Splinters " 
 
 This is a veritable human document. It contains a number 
 of letters now edited for publication, which passed between a 
 man and a woman who were lovers, but who had separated for a 
 reason which the letters themselves reveal. 
 
 Although it tells of the light loves of the woman, as well as of 
 her very serious love, the book leaves an impression of true and 
 pure high-mindedness, and there is not a word or thought or 
 presentment of an action to offend ; but, on the contrary, through 
 the ennobling of their great love, both lives are hfted and inspired. 
 
 Young, beautiful, and of great charm, with the distinction of 
 high birth, and the dormant instincts of a great woman, her environ- 
 ment has always been one of pleasure. Widowed at twenty-two, 
 she attracts a number of striking and distinguished men, but has 
 chosen not to marry again. Guy Desmond wins her from her 
 decision, and is about to marry her, when he is called away. In his 
 protracted absence she is tempted by an old lover, and found in 
 his company by Desmond on an unexpected return. Desmond 
 goes away, breaking off all intercourse, and for a time there is 
 silence between them. 
 
 After a year she writes to him, and the letters which pass 
 between them tell the story of an overwhelming and irresistible 
 love, bearing down all barriers before it. Slowly the woman's 
 soul is awakened to its depths, and responds to all that is highest 
 in love and in her lover. 
 
 Yet she will not meet him, and grows to be full of a desire to 
 atone for her faithless hour, and work out her salvation through 
 some great act of self-sacrifice. This causes her to hide from 
 him. But the man will not accept her dictum. He searches for 
 her desperately, and finds her at last through tragedy. 
 
 The letters between the lovers have been supplemented by 
 others, to and from friends, which make complete the record of 
 these two lives. A preface is added to the book, in explanation of 
 the way in which the letters came to be published, and to show 
 that the names used are fictitious. 
 
 14
 
 NEW 6/- NOVELS 
 
 By AMELIE RIVES 
 
 (Princess Troubetskoy) 
 
 The World's End 
 
 By the Author of "The Quick and the Dead," 
 "According to St. John," <S:c. 
 
 This is undoubtedly the most powerfully \vritten story 
 that has come from the pen of Princess Troubetskoy. The 
 plot is one that required great delicacy of handling, and the 
 author has just used the right touch, although the treatment 
 may be described as modern. A lovely, innocent, Virginian 
 girl is betrayed in a mad moment of sweeping passion by 
 Richard Bryce, a perverse, egotistical creature, the only child 
 of a doting mother, and heir of Randolph, his uncle and 
 formerly his guardian. The girl Phoebe believes she is his 
 bride — nothing was further from Richard's thoughts, who 
 goes away and leaves her. Out of this passion comes a whole 
 drama of suffering, a tangle of emotions. Randolph, who 
 has guessed the truth, marries Phoebe, because he loves 
 her. She, on her part, worships him, but believes he does 
 not know the truth. He feels that some day she will summon 
 up courage to tell him. In his eyes her silence, which he 
 understands and condones, is worse than the sin which 
 preceded it. A child is born. Then the base egoist reappears, 
 and the situations arising therefrom are tragic. It ends by 
 Phoebe's husband avening himself on his nephew, and by 
 absolute love and understanding between Phoebe and 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 15
 
 NEW 6/- NOVELS 
 
 By VIOLET METHLEY 
 
 The Loadstone 
 
 A little-known tragedy of the Napoleonic wars is the 
 background for this story's opening scene. Benedict 
 Sainte-Anne is one of 5,000 French prisoners marooned 
 upon the lonely island of Cabrera, after the disastrous 
 Treaty of Baylen. The majority perished miserably ; 
 finally, at the release of the survivors, Sainte-Anne is 
 abandoned by his treacherous companions. 
 
 He escapes at last with a single object in life; to 
 rejoin his Master, Napoleon, of whose fortunes he has 
 heard nothing for long years past. The story tells how 
 that desire was tragically fulfilled. 
 
 After many adventures, Sainte-Anne becomes one of 
 the Emperor's suite at St. Helena, and here love comes to 
 transform the broken-spirited man. We meet other 
 members of that strange household, together with 
 Napoleon himself, and his warder, Lowe. 
 
 Sainte-Anne is involved in an abortive plan for the 
 Emperor's escape, which almost ends tragically for 
 himself. He is saved, and, by the same means, attains 
 happiness. 
 
 16
 
 NEW 6/. NOVELS 
 
 By WILLIAM WESTRUP 
 
 The Toll 
 
 Author of "The River of Dreams," "The Debt," etc. 
 
 Mr. Westrup's novels of South African life are too well 
 known to need any introduction to the public. The present 
 story may be described as an epic of mining life in South 
 Africa. A young man, who is shift-boss on a mine and who 
 spends most of his time below ground, has sent to England 
 for his intended wife, Molly Rayde, although he is at the 
 time a victim of phthisis, the miners' curse. But he does not 
 tell the girl, who at length joins him, of his malady, but 
 marries her, with some misgiving ; and although they are 
 happy together for a time, the spectre is there. The end is, 
 however, unexpected. 
 
 No more eloquent and illuminating story of the real 
 condition of the people at the gold mines in and about 
 Johannesburg exists, and it is so convincing in its realism, 
 that to all those who are in any way interested in South 
 African affairs this book makes a strong appeal. 
 
 By the same Author. 
 
 In crown Svo, 6s. 
 
 The River of Dreams 
 
 "The outstanding feature of this novel is the character- 
 drawing. — It is superb. It is a well-told and excellent story, 
 with the interest sustained in a high degree." — Pall Mall 
 Gazette. 
 
 n
 
 GERTRUDE PAGE'S NOVELS 
 
 Each in crown Svo, cloth gilt, 6Sa 
 
 WHERE THE STRANGE ROADS 
 
 GO DOWN StKEaitioa 
 
 " Miss Page has never drawn a more splendid woman tlian brilliant, unconventional, 
 loyal Joe Latliom. It is a triumpli to have united the qualities of strength and 
 cliarm in a heroine. Joe's love story is like herself, fine and inspiring." — Obaerver. 
 
 THE GREAT SPLENDOUR is.hThousa.i 
 
 " Miss Page is an ideal author for a depressing day. She is like a good water colour 
 artist who knows how to make the greyest landscape luminous. Her new novel is full 
 of life and youth." — Morning Post. 
 
 THE RHODESIAN 
 
 " It would seem that some of the power of the ' Magic Carpet ' must linger in the 
 pen of Miss Gertrude Page, for with a few strokes thereof she wafts us into Rhodesia, 
 where she refreshes us with the wild beauty of veldt and sky, and teaches us the 
 fascination of open spaces and ancient ruins." — Olobe, 
 
 WINDING PATHS I8.KTKo«ana 
 
 " This is most certainly the best book that Miss Page has yet written. The note of 
 the book is its astonishing truth. It is from the first page to the last of quite absorbing 
 interest. The women are real and vivid in all they say and do." — Sland-ard. 
 
 THE SILENT RANCHER itthEaaio. 
 
 "'The Silent Rancher' is one of the best novels we have read this season." — 
 Pall Mall Oatetle. 
 
 LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS isthEauio. 
 
 " This is the wild land of Rhodesia, with its space, freshness, freedom and kopjes, the 
 breath of life to one girl and the poison of another. A bright story with a glow of real 
 >ife in \t."— Daily Chronicle. 
 
 THE EDGE O' BEYOND ss.KEaiuo. 
 
 " In this story of Rhodesian life the author has shown impartially both the sunshine 
 and the shadows of that land of charms and mystery." — Punch. 
 
 PADDY THE NEXT BEST THING 
 
 I9tk Editioa 
 
 " All novel readers will love Paddy, who was a wild girl, ' the next best thing ' to 
 being a boy." — Morning Post. 
 
 TWO LOVERS AND A LIGHTHOUSE 
 
 3ra EaitioA 
 In crown Svo, cloth gilt and gilt top, 3s. 6Cl« 
 
 " A charming love story on a somewhat original background. It covers a great deal 
 of ground, and contains much clever land tender writing with touches of humour to 
 relieve the pathos." — Scotsman, ALSO 
 
 JILL'S RHODESIAN PHILOSOPHY 
 
 4tk Eaitioa 
 
 In crown Svo, cloth giU, with the Author' s portrait , 28> 6d. net. 
 
 " A capital description of life on a farm in Rhodesia. There is a glow of real life in 
 the telling which fascinates the reader, and holds the attention from first to last" 
 Tht Queen. 
 
 i8 
 
 /
 
 NOVELS AT ONE SHILLING NET 
 
 Each in crown 8vo, with picture paper cover in colours. 
 
 A NEW ARSENE NOVEL AT I/- 
 
 The Crystal Stopper 
 
 By MAURICE LE BLANC 
 
 Author of " Arsene Lupin," etc. 
 
 VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED 
 
 THE CLAW By Cynthia Stockley 
 
 POPPY: The Story of a South African Girl 
 
 By Cynthia Stockley 
 TO=DAY AND LOVE By Madd Yardley 
 
 AS YE HAVE SOWN By Dolf Wyllarde 
 
 MAFOOTA By Dolf Wyllarde 
 
 SPIES OF THE KAISER By William le Queux 
 
 In cloth, picture wrappers. 
 
 THE SECOND THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW 
 
 By Jerome K. Jerome 
 
 THE PASSING OF THE THIRD FLOOR BACK 
 
 And other Stories. By Jerome K. Jerome 
 
 THE O'FLYNN By Justin Huntly McCarthy 
 
 THE PREY OF THE STRONGEST By Morley Roberts 
 
 Jerome K. Jerome's Original Play of 
 THE PASSING OF THE THIRD FLOOR BACK 
 
 In crown 8to, cloth gilt, with 16 illuatrations, 2s. 6d. net. lu paper cover, 
 
 Is. 6cl. net. 
 
 EDNA LYALL*S NOVELS 
 
 Uniform Edition in 8 Volumes 
 
 Each in crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Donovan : a Modern Englishman 
 Knight Errant 
 Won by Waiting 
 To Right the Wrong 
 
 We Two 
 
 In the Golden Days 
 A Hardy Norseman 
 In Spite of All 
 
 19
 
 Htirst & Blackett's 
 
 Td. NOVEL SERIES 
 
 Each in small crown 8vo, bound in cloth, gold lettering, 
 
 well printed from NEW TYPE ON GOOD PAPER, with 
 
 frontispiece illustration and decorative title page on 
 
 art paper, and wrapper in colours, 7d. net. 
 
 9levi) Voiumed, I9I^» 
 
 44 Donovan cdna lyall 
 
 45 In the Suntime of her Youth j^S^IJJS^^ 
 
 46 A Health unto His Majesty { iccXKIiY 
 
 47 A Fair Irish Maid j. huntly McCarthy 
 
 48 St. Elmo AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON 
 
 49 Circe's Daughter priscilla craven 
 
 51 Man of No Importance "Rita" 
 
 52 Countess Daphne 'Rita" 
 
 53 The Price of Power william le queux 
 
 54 The Outpost of Eternity cosmo Hamilton 
 
 55 The Orchard Close alice and claude askew 
 
 Volumes already Published, 
 
 MADAME ALBANESI ALICE & CLAUDE ASKEW 
 Drusilla's Point of View Destiny 
 
 Marian Sax jVl. e. BRADDON 
 A Question of Quality ^^^^ Love has Chains. 
 
 The strongest of All xxru:*^ h«..o^ 
 
 Things ^^® White House 
 
 A Young Man from the During Her Majesty's 
 
 Country Pleasure 
 
 20
 
 Hurst & Blackett's Td. Novels 
 
 CONTINUED. 
 Volumes already published. 
 
 MRS. B. M. CROKER 
 
 Her Own People 
 The Youngest Miss 
 
 Mowbray 
 The Company's Servant 
 
 JESSIE FOTHERGILL 
 
 Lassies of Leverhouse 
 A March in the Ranlcs 
 
 TOM GALLON 
 Jimmy Quixote 
 
 COSMO HAMILTON 
 The Infinite Capacity 
 
 E. W. HORNUNQ 
 Peccavi 
 
 "IOTA" (Mrs. Mannington 
 Caffyn) 
 
 Dorinda & Her Daughter 
 
 WILLIAM LE QUEUX 
 
 The Man from Downing 
 Street 
 
 justin huntly 
 McCarthy 
 
 The Gorgeous Borgia 
 The King over the Water 
 The God of Love 
 The Illustrious O'Hagan 
 Needles and Pins 
 
 MARY E. MANN 
 Moonlight 
 
 CHARLES MARRIOTT 
 The Intruding Angel 
 
 MRS. OLIPHANT 
 
 The Cuckoo in the Nest 
 It was a Lover and His 
 
 Lass 
 Janet 
 Agnes 
 
 MRS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS 
 
 The Ides of March 
 Her Point of View 
 
 "RITA" 
 
 The Seventh Dream 
 
 ADELINE SERGEANT 
 
 Kitty Holden 
 A Soul Apart 
 Jacobi's Wife 
 
 BEATRICE WHITBY 
 
 Mary Fenwick's 
 Daughter 
 
 Bequeathed 
 
 The Awakening of Mary 
 Fenwick 
 
 PERCY WHITE 
 
 Colonel Daveron 
 
 The House of Intrigue 
 
 MRS. C. N. WILLIAMSON 
 The Turnstile of Night 
 The Silent Battle 
 
 21
 
 Hurst and Blackett's 
 
 6d. COPYRIGHT NOVELS 
 
 Volumes already Published 
 
 Mrs. ALEXANDER 
 
 A Crooked Path 
 
 ALICE &. CLAUDE ASKEW 
 
 The Orchard Close 
 
 ROBERT BARR 
 
 A Rock in the Baltic 
 The Triumphs of Eugene 
 Valmont 
 
 M. E. BRADDON 
 
 Her Convict 
 
 ADA CAMBRiDQE 
 
 A Happy Marriage 
 
 LUCAS CLEEVE 
 
 From Crown to Cross 
 Woman and Moses 
 
 DOROTHEA CONYERS 
 
 Bloom or Blight 
 
 PIERRE COSTELLO 
 
 A Sinner in Israel 
 
 Ml' CRAIK 
 
 Hannah 
 
 A Life for a Life 
 
 Young Mrs. Jardine 
 
 A Brave Lady 
 
 John Halifax, Qentleman 
 
 A Noble Life 
 
 Mrs. B. M. CROKER 
 The Company's Servant 
 
 COMTESSE DE BREMONT 
 Lady Lillian's Luck 
 
 DICK DONOVAN 
 
 The Fatal Ring 
 
 B. L. FARJEON 
 
 Blade -o'-Qrass 
 
 The Tragedy of Peatherstone 
 
 The Betrayal of John Fordham 
 
 EDITH H. FOWLER 
 
 For Richer, for Poorer 
 
 TOM GALLON 
 
 The Lackey and the Lady 
 Fortunes a- Begging 
 Jimmy Quixote 
 
 M. F. GORON 
 
 The World of Crime 
 
 5ARAH GRAND 
 
 Emotional Moments 
 
 CLIVE HOLLAND 
 
 Brown Face and White: A 
 Japanese Story 
 
 FERGUS HUME 
 
 The Mother of Emeralds 
 
 32
 
 Sd. Copyright Novels already published — continued. 
 
 COULSON KERNAHAN 
 
 The Red Peril 
 
 WILLIAM LE QUEUX 
 
 The House of the Wicked 
 
 EDNA LYALL 
 
 Donovan 
 
 In the Qolden Days 
 
 We Two 
 
 Won by Waiting 
 
 A Hardy Norseman 
 
 A Knight Errant 
 
 In Spite of All 
 
 To Right the Wrong 
 
 Dr. GEO. MACDONALD 
 
 sir Qibble 
 Robert Falconer 
 
 J. MIDDLETON 
 
 MACDONALD 
 
 Thunderbolt 
 
 BERTRAM MITFORD 
 
 The Secret of the Lebombo 
 
 HELEN MATHERS 
 
 Pigskin and Petticoat 
 
 J. E. PRESTON MUDDOCK 
 
 The Star of Fortune 
 
 Mrs. OLIPHANT 
 
 The Laird of Norlaw 
 House on the Moor 
 
 JOHN OXENHAM 
 
 Ood's Prisoner 
 
 EDEN PHILLPOTTS 
 
 Folly and Fresh Air 
 
 Mrs. BAILLIE REYNOLDS 
 The Tree of Knowledge 
 
 Mrs. FRED REYNOLDS 
 
 Love's Magic 
 
 MORLEY ROBERTS 
 
 The Flying Cloud 
 
 EFFIE ADELAIDE 
 
 ROWLANDS 
 
 Judged by Fate 
 A Lovely Woman 
 Hester Trefusls 
 Woman against Woman 
 Lavender's Love Story 
 His One Love 
 A Modern Witch 
 Her Heart's Longing 
 The Love that Kills 
 Her Punishment 
 The Fault of One 
 Husband and Foe 
 Love's Fire 
 
 "RITA" 
 
 Saba Macdonald 
 
 A Man of No Importance 
 
 DORA RUSSELL 
 
 The Secret of the River 
 A Bitter Birthright 
 
 ADELINE SERGEANT 
 
 Erica's Husband 
 
 A Life Sentence 
 
 Caspar Brooke's Daughter 
 
 Sir Anthony 
 
 The Claim of Anthony Lockhart 
 
 Marjory's Mistake 
 
 A Broken Idol 
 
 DOUGLAS SLADEN 
 
 The Tragedy of the Pyramids 
 
 ANNIE S. SSVAN 
 The Broad Road 
 
 23
 
 HURST & BLACKETT'S 
 
 6(1. Copyright Novels 
 
 Well printed from new type on good 
 
 paper, and bound In attractive 
 
 picture covers In colours. 
 
 _ 
 
 NEW VOLUMES for I9I4 
 
 106 ARABY'S HUSBAND Alice & Claude Askew 
 
 107 LET JUSTICE BE DONE Mark Allerton 
 
 108 CHRISTINE Adeline Sergeant 
 
 109 HEARTS AT WAR Effie Adelaide Rowlands 
 
 110 THE MAN WITH THE MONEY Effie Adelaide Rowlands 
 
 111 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK FEATHER Gaston Leroux 
 
 112 CALLING THE TUNE Justin Huntly McCarthy 
 
 113 THE O'FLYNN Justin Huntly McCarthy 
 
 114 HER OWN PEOPLE B. M. Croker 
 lis THE WHITE HOUSE M. E. Braddon 
 
 116 DESTINY Alice & Claude Askew 
 
 117 EUGENE YIDOCQ Dick Donovan 
 
 118 IN THE VORTEX Clive Holland 
 
 Hurst & Blackett Limited, Paternoster House, Paternoster Row, London
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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