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Robert saw that the physician's glance for a moment lost its quiet look of attention, and became earnest and searching. "He is wondering whether I am the patient," thought Mr. Audley, "and is looking for the diagnoses of madness in my face." Dr. Mosgrave spoke as if in answer to this thought. "Is it not about your own health that you wish to consult me?" he said, interrogatively. "Oh, no!" Dr.
Mosgrave walked up and down the room once or twice before he spoke again. "I will not discuss the probabilities of the suspicion which distresses you, Mr. Audley," he said, presently, "but I will tell you this much, I do not advise any esclandre. This Mr. George Talboys has disappeared, but you have no evidence of his death.
He was thin and sallow, with lantern jaws, and eyes of a pale, feeble gray, that seemed as if they had once been blue, and had faded by the progress of time to their present neutral shade. However powerful the science of medicine as wielded by Dr. Alwyn Mosgrave, it had not been strong enough to put flesh upon his bones, or brightness into his face.
He sat long over his solitary cup of tea, smoking his meerschaum pipe, and meditating darkly upon the task that lay before him. "I will appeal to the experience of this Dr. Mosgrave," he though; "physicians and lawyers are the confessors of this prosaic nineteenth century. Surely, he will be able to help me."
"I will thank you when I am better able to do so," he said, with emotion; "I will thank you in my uncle's name as well as in my own." "I have only five minutes more, and I have a letter to write," said Dr. Mosgrave, smiling at the young man's energy. He seated himself at a writing-table in the window, dipped his pen in the ink, and wrote rapidly for about seven minutes.
He was thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and excitement, and he fell into a heavy sleep in his easy-chair before the bright fire, from which he was only awakened by the entrance of Mr. Richards with the return message. This return message was very brief. "DEAR AUDLEY Always glad to oblige. Alwyn Mosgrave, M.D., 12 Saville Row. Safe." This with names and addresses, was all that it contained.
Robert Audley had sat looking gloomily at the fire, wondering how he should begin the conversation, and had needed this reminder of the physician's presence. "You are very good, Dr. Mosgrave," he said, rousing himself by an effort, "and I thank you very much for having responded to my summons. I am about to appeal to you upon a subject which is more painful to me than words can describe.
Mosgrave shook his head, gravely, when Mr. Audley came to the end of his story. "You have nothing further to tell me?" he said. "No. I do not think there is anything more that need be told," Robert answered, rather evasively. "You would wish to prove that this lady is mad, and therefore irresponsible for her actions, Mr. Audley?" said the physician.
If you could produce evidence of his death, you could produce no evidence against this lady, beyond the one fact that she had a powerful motive for getting rid of him. No jury in the United Kingdom would condemn her upon such evidence as that." Robert Audley interrupted Dr. Mosgrave, hastily.
This second message was only a very earnest request to Doctor Mosgrave to pay an immediate visit to Audley Court on a matter of serious moment. Having written this message, Mr. Audley felt that he had done all that he could do. He drank his brandy and water. He had actual need of the diluted alcohol, for he had been chilled to the bone by his adventures during the fire.
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