At this amazing news the doctor got up slowly, and turning his bushy head toward Frederik, fixed his keen eyes upon him. He was all attention now.
"Yes——?"
Then with a sheepish laugh Frederik abruptly changed the subject.
"You'll think it strange," he said, "but I simply cannot make up my mind to go near the old desk of my uncle's—peculiar, yes—isn't it?"
He smiled rather a sickly smile at the doctor, and hesitated.
"I've got a perfect—Ha! Ha!—terror of the thing!"
His laughter was quite mirthless and his fear made him a pitiable object.
The doctor, not trying to hide his contempt for him, went to the desk, took the telegram, and threw it in Frederik's direction, not even troubling to aim accurately.
It hit the floor about two feet away from the younger man's trimly shod feet, and he quickly reached over sideways and seized it. He tore it open. Then, as his eyes took in the message it contained, he drew a long breath.
He sat down mechanically, looking straight ahead of him.