"And what about this other thing—this furor epilepticus, whatever it is?" asked Penreath, anxiously.
"As you didn't murder anybody, you haven't had the epileptic fury," replied Colwyn, laughing.
"But Sir Henry Durwood said at the trial that I was an epileptic," persisted the other.
"He was wrong about the furor epilepticus, so it is just as likely that he was wrong about the epilepsy. His theory was that you were going to attack somebody at the breakfast table of the hotel, and you have just told us that you had no intention of attacking anybody—that your only idea was to get out of the room. You are neither an epileptic nor insane, in my opinion, but at that time you were suffering from the after effects of shell-shock. Take my advice, and forget all about the trial and what you heard there, or, if you must think of it, remember the excellent certificate of sanity and clear-headedness which the doctors for the Crown gave you! When you get free I'll take you to half a dozen specialists who'll probably confirm the Crown point of view."
Penreath laughed for the first time.
"You've made me feel like a new man," he said. "How can I thank you for all you have done?"
"The only way you can show your gratitude is by instructing Mr. Oakham to lodge an appeal for you—at once. Have you the necessary forms with you, Mr. Oakham?"
"I have," said the solicitor, finding voice after a long silence.