The Great Secret Part 27

"You think it possible," I asked, "that he is alive now?"

"It is quite possible," she answered, "but not very likely. He probably died with the slight effort he made in moving his arm. I am quite willing to go in and examine him, if you like, or would you prefer to wait until the doctor comes?"

"We will wait," I answered. "He cannot be more than a few minutes."

Almost as I spoke, I heard the dog-cart returning. I hurried downstairs and admitted the doctor. It was almost daybreak and very cold. A thin, grey mist hung over the park; a few stars were still visible. Eastwards, there was a faint break in the clouds.

"What's wrong?" he asked, as I closed the door behind him.

"Something very extraordinary, doctor," I answered, hurrying him upstairs. "Come and hear what the nurse has to say."

He looked at me in a puzzled manner, but I hurried him upstairs. The nurse met him on the landing. She whispered something in his ear, and they entered the bedchamber together. I remained outside.

In about ten minutes the door was thrown open, and the doctor appeared upon the threshold. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and there was a look upon his face which I had never seen there before. He had the appearance of a man who has been in touch with strange things.

"Some hot water," said he--"boiling, if possible. Don't ask me any questions, there's a good fellow!"

I had already aroused some of the servants, telling them that the nurse had been taken ill, and I was able to bring what he had asked for in a few minutes. But when I returned with it and tried the handle of the door, I found it locked. Rust opened it after I had knocked twice, and took the can from me.

"Go away, there's a good fellow," he begged. "I will come to you as soon as I can--as soon as there is anything to tell."

I obeyed him without demur. I went into my study, ordered some tea, and tried to read. It must have been an hour before the door was opened, and Rust appeared.

"Courage," he said, "I have some extraordinary news for you."

"I am quite prepared for it," I answered calmly.

"He is alive!"

I nodded.

"I judged as much."

"More than that! I believe he will recover!"

There was a short silence. I had never seen Rust so agitated.

"You don't seem to grasp quite all that this means," he continued. "For the first time in my life, I have signed a certificate of death for a living person!"

"You have signed the certificate?" I asked.

He nodded.

"The undertaker has it."

The maid entered just then with the tea. I ordered another cup for Rust, and when it had arrived, I made him sit down opposite to me.

"His was exactly the kind of illness," he remarked thoughtfully, "to lead to something of this sort. I am quite sure now, whatever Kauppmann's friend may say, that his disease was not a natural one. He has been suffering from some strange form of poisoning. It is the most interesting case I have ever come in contact with. There were certain symptoms--"

"Rust," I interrupted, "forgive me, but I don't want to hear about symptoms. I want to talk to you as man to man. We are old friends! You must listen carefully to what I have to say."

Rust's good-humored, weather-beaten, little face was almost pitiful.

"You're going to pitch into me, of course," he remarked. "Well, I suppose I deserve it. You may not believe it, but I can a.s.sure you that ninety-nine out of every hundred medical men would have signed the certificate in my case."

"I have no doubt of it," I answered. "That is not the matter I want to discuss with you at all. There is something more serious, terribly serious, behind all this. Frankly, if I did not know you so well, Rust, I should offer you the biggest fee you had ever received in your life, to leave the place this morning and be called to--Timbuctoo. As it is," I continued more slowly, "I am going to appeal to you as a sportsman! I am going to take you into my confidence as far as I dare. I want, if I can, to justify a very extraordinary request."

Rust took off his spectacles and laid them upon the table.

"The request being--" he asked.

"That you start for the holiday you were speaking of the other day," I said, "within twelve hours."

He glanced at me curiously. I think that he was beginning to wonder whether I might not be the next person to need medical advice.

"Go on," he said. "I am prepared to listen at any rate...."

He listened. And at 10.30 that morning, he left Saxby--for the South Coast.

CHAPTER XIX

AN AFFAIR OF STATE

My cousin met me at St. Pancras. I saw him before my own carriage had reached the platform, peering into the window of every compartment in his short-sighted way. He recognized me at last with a little wave of the hand.

"Glad to see you, Hardross! These your things? We'll have a hansom. Where are you staying?"

"At the club, if I can get a room," I answered. "I shall try there before I go to an hotel, at any rate."

"Come and have some lunch first," Sir Gilbert said firmly. "You can see about your room afterwards. Remember your appointment is at three o'clock."

I acquiesced, and got into a cab with my cousin. I was perfectly aware that he was almost consumed with curiosity. He scarcely waited until we were off before he began.

"Hardross!" he asked, "what's up?"

"Nothing particular," I answered lamely.

"Rubbish!" he declared, "you are the last man in the world I should have expected to see in town the second week in September! You haven't come for nothing, have you? And then this interview with Lord Polloch. What on earth can you have to say to the Prime Minister?"

"I'm afraid, Gilbert," I answered, "that I can't tell you--just yet. You see it isn't my own affair at all. It's--another man's secret."

My cousin was palpably disappointed.

"Well," he said, a little curtly, "whatever sort of a secret it is, it hasn't agreed with you very well. I never saw you look so seedy--and years older too! What on earth have you been doing with yourself?"