He suggested that I should come also. When we had entered, Sir James
turned to me and said:

“I understand from Doctor Winchester that you are a friend of Miss
Trelawny, and that you have already considerable knowledge of this
case. Perhaps it will be well that you should be with us. I know you
already as a keen lawyer, Mr. Ross, though I never had the pleasure of
meeting you. As Doctor Winchester tells me that there are some strange
matters outside this case which seem to puzzle him—and others—and in
which he thinks you may yet be specially interested, it might be as
well that you should know every phase of the case. For myself I do not
take much account of mysteries—except those of science; and as there
seems to be some idea of an attempt at assassination or robbery, all I
can say is that if assassins were at work they ought to take some
elementary lessons in anatomy before their next job, for they seem
thoroughly ignorant. If robbery were their purpose, they seem to have
worked with marvellous inefficiency. That, however, is not my
business.”  Here he took a big pinch of snuff, and turning to Miss
Trelawny, went on: “Now as to the patient. Leaving out the cause of his
illness, all we can say at present is that he appears to be suffering
from a marked attack of catalepsy. At present nothing can be done,
except to sustain his strength. The treatment of my friend Doctor
Winchester is mainly such as I approve of; and I am confident that
should any slight change arise he will be able to deal with it
satisfactorily. It is an interesting case—most interesting; and
should any new or abnormal development arise I shall be happy to come
at any time. There is just one thing to which I wish to call your
attention; and I put it to you, Miss Trelawny, directly, since it is
your responsibility. Doctor Winchester informs me that you are not
yourself free in the matter, but are bound by an instruction given by
your Father in case just such a condition of things should arise. I
would strongly advise that the patient be removed to another room; or,
as an alternative, that those mummies and all such things should be
removed from his chamber. Why, it’s enough to put any man into an
abnormal condition, to have such an assemblage of horrors round him,
and to breathe the atmosphere which they exhale. You have evidence
already of how such mephitic odour may act. That nurse—Kennedy, I
think you said, Doctor—isn’t yet out of her state of catalepsy; and
you, Mr. Ross, have, I am told, experienced something of the same
effects. I know this”—here his eyebrows came down more than ever, and
his mouth hardened—“if I were in charge here I should insist on the
patient having a different atmosphere; or I would throw up the case. Doctor Winchester already knows that I can only be again consulted on
this condition being fulfilled. But I trust that you will see your
way, as a good daughter to my mind should, to looking to your Father’s
health and sanity rather than to any whim of his—whether supported or
not by a foregoing fear, or by any number of “penny dreadful”
mysteries. The day has hardly come yet, I am glad to say, when the
British Museum and St. Thomas’s Hospital have exchanged their normal
functions. Good-day, Miss Trelawny. I earnestly hope that I may soon
see your Father restored. Remember, that should you fulfil the
elementary condition which I have laid down, I am at your service day
or night. Good-morning, Mr. Ross. I hope you will be able to report
to me soon, Doctor Winchester.”

When he had gone we stood silent, till the rumble of his carriage
wheels died away. The first to speak was Doctor Winchester:

“I think it well to say that to my mind, speaking purely as a
physician, he is quite right. I feel as if I could have assaulted him
when he made it a condition of not giving up the case; but all the same
he is right as to treatment. He does not understand that there is
something odd about this special case; and he will not realise the knot
that we are all tied up in by Mr. Trelawny’s instructions. Of
course—” He was interrupted by Miss Trelawny:

“Doctor Winchester, do you, too, wish to give up the case; or are you
willing to continue it under the conditions you know?”

“Give it up! Less now than ever. Miss Trelawny, I shall never give it
up, so long as life is left to him or any of us!”  She said nothing,
but held out her hand, which he took warmly. “Now,” said she, “if Sir James Frere is a type of the cult of
Specialists, I want no more of them. To start with, he does not seem
to know any more than you do about my Father’s condition; and if he
were a hundredth part as much interested in it as you are, he would not
stand on such punctilio. Of course, I am only too anxious about my
poor Father; and if I can see a way to meet either of Sir James Frere’s
conditions, I shall do so. I shall ask Mr. Marvin to come here today,
and advise me as to the limit of Father’s wishes. If he thinks I am
free to act in any way on my own responsibility, I shall not hesitate
to do so.”  Then Doctor Winchester took his leave. Miss Trelawny sat down and wrote a letter to Mr. Marvin, telling him of
the state of affairs, and asking him to come and see her and to bring
with him any papers which might throw any light on the subject. She
sent the letter off with a carriage to bring back the solicitor; we
waited with what patience we could for his coming. It is not a very long journey for oneself from Kensington Palace
Gardens to Lincoln’s Inn Fields; but it seemed endlessly long when
waiting for someone else to take it. All things, however, are amenable
to Time; it was less than an hour all told when Mr. Marvin was with us. He recognised Miss Trelawny’s impatience, and when he had learned
sufficient of her father’s illness, he said to her:

“Whenever you are ready I can go with you into particulars regarding
your Father’s wishes.”

“Whenever you like,” she said, with an evident ignorance of his
meaning. “Why not now?”  He looked at me, as to a fellow man of
business, and stammered out:

“We are not alone.”

“I have brought Mr. Ross here on purpose,” she answered. “He knows so
much at present, that I want him to know more.”  The solicitor was a
little disconcerted, a thing which those knowing him only in courts
would hardly have believed. He answered, however, with some hesitation:

“But, my dear young lady—Your Father’s wishes!—Confidence between
father and child—”

Here she interrupted him; there was a tinge of red in her pale cheeks
as she did so:

“Do you really think that applies to the present circumstances, Mr.
Marvin? My Father never told me anything of his affairs; and I can
now, in this sad extremity, only learn his wishes through a gentleman
who is a stranger to me and of whom I never even heard till I got my
Father’s letter, written to be shown to me only in extremity. Mr. Ross
is a new friend; but he has all my confidence, and I should like him to
be present.