Please, Mrs. Grant, see that Nurse Kennedy’s room is ready;
and ask two of the men to come and carry her in.”  Mrs. Grant went out
immediately; and in a few minutes came back saying:

“The room is quite ready; and the men are here.”  By her direction two
footmen came into the room and, lifting up the rigid body of Nurse
Kennedy under the supervision of the Doctor, carried her out of the
room. Miss Trelawny remained with me in the sick chamber, and Mrs.
Grant went with the Doctor into the Nurse’s room. When we were alone Miss Trelawny came over to me, and taking both my
hands in hers, said:

“I hope you won’t remember what I said. I did not mean it, and I was
distraught.”  I did not make reply; but I held her hands and kissed
them. There are different ways of kissing a lady’s hands. This way
was intended as homage and respect; and it was accepted as such in the
high-bred, dignified way which marked Miss Trelawny’s bearing and every
movement. I went over to the sofa and looked down at the senseless
man. The dawn had come much nearer in the last few minutes, and there
was something of the clearness of day in the light. As I looked at the
stern, cold, set face, now as white as a marble monument in the pale
grey light, I could not but feel that there was some deep mystery
beyond all that had happened within the last twenty-six hours. Those
beetling brows screened some massive purpose; that high, broad forehead
held some finished train of reasoning, which the broad chin and massive
jaw would help to carry into effect. As I looked and wondered, there
began to steal over me again that phase of wandering thought which had
last night heralded the approach of sleep. I resisted it, and held
myself sternly to the present. This was easier to do when Miss
Trelawny came close to me, and, leaning her forehead against my
shoulder, began to cry silently. Then all the manhood in me woke, and
to present purpose. It was of little use trying to speak; words were
inadequate to thought. But we understood each other; she did not draw
away when I put arm protectingly over her shoulder as I used to do with
my little sister long ago when in her childish trouble she would come
to her big brother to be comforted. That very act or attitude of
protection made me more resolute in my purpose, and seemed to clear my
brain of idle, dreamy wandering in thought. With an instinct of
greater protection, however, I took away my arm as I heard the Doctor’s
footstep outside the door. When Doctor Winchester came in he looked intently at the patient before
speaking. His brows were set, and his mouth was a thin, hard line. Presently he said:

“There is much in common between the sleep of your Father and Nurse
Kennedy. Whatever influence has brought it about has probably worked
the same way in both cases. In Kennedy’s case the coma is less marked. I cannot but feel, however, that with her we may be able to do more and
more quickly than with this patient, as our hands are not tied. I have
placed her in a draught; and already she shows some signs, though very
faint ones, of ordinary unconsciousness. The rigidity of her limbs is
less, and her skin seems more sensitive—or perhaps I should say less
insensitive—to pain.”

“How is it, then,” I asked, “that Mr. Trelawny is still in this state
of insensibility; and yet, so far as we know, his body has not had such
rigidity at all?”

“That I cannot answer. The problem is one which we may solve in a few
hours; or it may need a few days. But it will be a useful lesson in
diagnosis to us all; and perhaps to many and many others after us, who
knows!” he added, with the genuine fire of an enthusiast. As the morning wore on, he flitted perpetually between the two rooms,
watching anxiously over both patients. He made Mrs. Grant remain with
the Nurse, but either Miss Trelawny or I, generally both of us,
remained with the wounded man. We each managed, however, to get bathed
and dressed; the Doctor and Mrs. Grant remained with Mr. Trelawny
whilst we had breakfast. Sergeant Daw went off to report at Scotland Yard the progress of the
night; and then to the local station to arrange for the coming of his
comrade, Wright, as fixed with Superintendent Dolan. When he returned
I could not but think that he had been hauled over the coals for
shooting in a sick-room; or perhaps for shooting at all without certain
and proper cause. His remark to me enlightened me in the matter:

“A good character is worth something, sir, in spite of what some of
them say. See! I’ve still got leave to carry my revolver.”

That day was a long and anxious one. Toward nightfall Nurse Kennedy so
far improved that the rigidity of her limbs entirely disappeared. She
still breathed quietly and regularly; but the fixed expression of her
face, though it was a calm enough expression, gave place to fallen
eyelids and the negative look of sleep. Doctor Winchester had, towards
evening, brought two more nurses, one of whom was to remain with Nurse
Kennedy and the other to share in the watching with Miss Trelawny, who
had insisted on remaining up herself. She had, in order to prepare for
the duty, slept for several hours in the afternoon. We had all taken
counsel together, and had arranged thus for the watching in Mr.
Trelawny’s room. Mrs. Grant was to remain beside the patient till
twelve, when Miss Trelawny would relieve her. The new nurse was to sit
in Miss Trelawny’s room, and to visit the sick chamber each quarter of
an hour. The Doctor would remain till twelve; when I was to relieve
him. One or other of the detectives was to remain within hail of the
room all night; and to pay periodical visits to see that all was well. Thus, the watchers would be watched; and the possibility of such events
as last night, when the watchers were both overcome, would be avoided. When the sun set, a strange and grave anxiety fell on all of us; and in
our separate ways we prepared for the vigil. Doctor Winchester had
evidently been thinking of my respirator, for he told me he would go
out and get one. Indeed, he took to the idea so kindly that I
persuaded Miss Trelawny also to have one which she could put on when
her time for watching came. And so the night drew on. Chapter V

More Strange Instructions


When I came from my room at half-past eleven o’clock I found all well
in the sick-room. The new nurse, prim, neat, and watchful, sat in the
chair by the bedside where Nurse Kennedy had sat last night. A little
way off, between the bed and the safe, sat Dr. Winchester alert and
wakeful, but looking strange and almost comic with the respirator over
mouth and nose. As I stood in the doorway looking at them I heard a
slight sound; turning round I saw the new detective, who nodded, held
up the finger of silence and withdrew quietly. Hitherto no one of the
watchers was overcome by sleep. I took a chair outside the door. As yet there was no need for me to
risk coming again under the subtle influence of last night.