he pages of a
bound copy of the Illustrated London News.

"James," said Lord Saltire, "this is Dr. Stark Munro, who has come to
look after you."

My patient mumbled something in his beard, which seemed to me
suspiciously like "Damn Dr. Stark Munro!" The peer evidently thought the
same, for he led me aside by the elbow.

"I don't know whether you have been told that James is a little rough in
his ways at present," said he; "his whole nature has deteriorated very
much since this calamity came upon him. You must not be offended by
anything he may say or do."

"Not in the least," said I.

"There is a taint of this sort upon my wife's side," I whispered the
little lord; "her uncle's symptoms were identical. Dr. Peterson says
that the sunstroke was only the determining cause. The predisposition
was already there. I may tell you that the footman will always be in the
next room, so that you can call him if you need his assistance."

Well, it ended by lord and lacquey moving off, and leaving me with my
patient. I thought that I should lose no time in establishing a kindly
relation with him, so I drew a chair over to his sofa and began to ask
him a few questions about his health and habits. Not a word could I get
out of him in reply. He sat as sullen as a mule, with a kind of sneer
about his handsome face, which showed me very well that he had heard
everything. I tried this and tried that, but not a syllable could I
get from him; so at last I turned from him and began to look over some
illustrated papers on the table. He doesn't read, it seems, and will do
nothing but look at pictures. Well, I was sitting like this with my back
half turned, when you can imagine my surprise to feel something plucking
gently at me, and to see a great brown hand trying to slip its way into
my coat pocket. I caught at the wrist and turned swiftly round, but too
late to prevent my handkerchief being whisked out and concealed behind
the Hon. James Derwent, who sat grinning at me like a mischievous
monkey.

"Come, I may want that," said I, trying to treat the matter as a joke.

He used some language which was more scriptural than religious. I saw
that he did not mean giving it up, but I was determined not to let him
get the upper hand over me. I grabbed for the handkerchief; and he, with
a snarl, caught my hand in both of his. He had a powerful grip, but I
managed to get his wrist and to give it a wrench round, until, with a
howl, he dropped m