," said Aubrey, in a low voice; "but we must not talk in the
passage or we shall wake him. I saw he was not fit to be alone, so I
sent to the hotel for his traps, and am putting him up here. He turned
in, half an hour ago, and seemed really inclined to sleep. He was almost
off, when I left him."

Aubrey, closing the door, led the way to his sitting-room, where the
three easy chairs were still drawn up before the stove.

"I conclude you are Dr. Cameron," said Aubrey, turning up the light, and
motioning his visitor to the chair which had lately been Ronnie's.

"Yes, I am Dick Cameron, Ronnie's particular chum; and if ever he needed
a particular chum, poor old chap, he does so at this moment. But I am
glad he has found a friend in you, and one really able to undertake him.
You did right not to leave him at the hotel; and he must not travel back
to England alone."

"I have already arranged to accompany him," said Aubrey Treherne.

"Good; it will save me a journey."

Dick pulled off his ulster, threw it across the red velvet sofa, flung
his cap after it, and took the proffered chair.

In his blue serge suit and gay tie, he looked like the captain of a
college football team.

Aubrey, eyeing him with considerable reserve and distaste, silently took
up his position in the chair opposite. He felt many years older than
this peremptory young man, who appeared to consider himself master of
all situations.

Dick turned his bright eyes on to the empty chair between them.

"So Ronnie has spent the evening with you?"

"He has."

"Who was the third party?"

"The third party was the Infant of Prague."

"Oh, bother that rotten Infant!" exclaimed Dr. Dick. "I came near to
putting my foot through its shining tummy this morning! Still it may
serve its silly use, if it takes his mind off his book, until we can get
him safely home. I suppose you know, sir, that Ronald West is about as
ill as a man can be? It will be touch and go whether we can get him home
before the crash comes."

"I thought he seemed excited and unwell," said Aubrey. "What do you
consider is the cause of his condition?"

"Well, the bother is, we can't exactly tell. But I should say he has
been letting himself in for constant exposure to extreme heat by day,
and to swampy dampness by night; not taking proper food; living in a
whirl of excited imagination with no rational companionship to form an
outlet; and, on the top of all this, contracted some malarial