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Page 6
"You're in demand to-night, Doctor," he said. "A young person called
for you almost directly you had left your house, and, learning where
you were gone, followed you."
"Indeed!" I said, a trifle incredulously. "There are plenty of other
doctors if the case is an urgent one."
"She may have thought it would save time as you were actually up and
dressed," explained Eltham; "and the house is quite near to here, I
understand."
I looked at him a little blankly. Was this another effort of the
unknown jester?
"I have been fooled once," I said. "That 'phone call was a hoax--"
"But I feel certain," declared Eltham, earnestly, "that this is
genuine! The poor girl was dreadfully agitated; her master has broken
his leg and is lying helpless: number 280, Rectory Grove."
"Where is the girl?" I asked, sharply.
"She ran back directly she had given me her message."
"Was she a servant?"
"I should imagine so: French, I think. But she was so wrapped up I had
little more than a glimpse of her. I am sorry to hear that some one
has played a silly joke on you, but believe me--" he was very earnest
--"this is no jest. The poor girl could scarcely speak for sobs. She
mistook me for you, of course."
"Oh!" said I grimly "well, I suppose I must go. Broken leg, you said?
--and my surgical bag, splints and so forth, are at home!"
"My dear Petrie!" cried Eltham, in his enthusiastic way--"you no doubt
can do something to alleviate the poor man's suffering immediately. I
will run back to your rooms for the bag and rejoin you at 280, Rectory
Grove."
"It's awfully good of you, Eltham--"
He held up his hand.
"The call of suffering humanity, Petrie, is one which I may no more
refuse to hear than you."
I made no further protest after that, for his point of view was
evident and his determination adamant, but told him where he would
find the bag and once more set out across the moonbright common, he
pursuing a westerly direction and I going east.
Some three hundred yards I had gone, I suppose, and my brain had been
very active the while, when something occurred to me which placed a
new complexion upon this second summons. I thought of the falsity of the
first, of the improbability of even the most hardened practical joker
practising his wiles at one o'clock in the morning. I thought of our
recent conversation; above all I thought of the girl who had delivered
the message to Eltham, the girl whom he had described as a French maid
--whose personal charm had so completely enlisted his sympathies. Now,
to this train of thought came a new one, and, adding it, my suspicion
became almost a certainty.
I remembered (as, knowing the district, I should have remembered
before) that there was no number 280 in Rectory Grove.
Pulling up sharply I stood looking about me. Not a living soul was in
sight; not even a policeman. Where the lamps marked the main paths
across the common nothing moved; in the shadows about me nothing
stirred. But something stirred within me--a warning voice which for
long had lain dormant.
What was afoot?
A breeze caressed the leaves overhead, breaking the silence with
mysterious whisperings. Some portentous truth was seeking for
admittance to my brain. I strove to reassure myself, but the sense of
impending evil and of mystery became heavier. At last I could combat
my strange fears no longer. I turned and began to run toward the south
side of the common--toward my rooms--and after Eltham.
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