I remembered enough Greek mythology to supply elementary facts, while I hunted for a particular book about Athens.
“Machaon was the son of Asclepios,” I said, “and Asclepios was the Greek god of healing. He had precincts, hydropathic establishments, where people went to be cured. The Romans called him Aesculapius.”
“What can he do for you then?” asked Charles. “You’re fairly fit, aren’t you?”
Not till he spoke did a light dawn on me. Though I had been thinking so much of Parkes that day, I had not consciously made the connection.
“But Parkes isn’t,” said I. “Is that possible?”
“By Jove!” said he.
I found my book, and turned to the accounts of the precinct of Asclepios in Athens.
“Yes, Asclepios had two sons,” I said—“Machaon and Podaleirios. In Homeric times he wasn’t a god, but only a physician, and his sons were physicians too. The myth of his godhead is rather a late one——”
I shut the book.
“Best not to read any more,” I said. “If we know all about Asclepios, we shall possibly be suggesting things to the medium’s mind. Let’s see what Machaon can tell us about himself, and we can verify it afterwards.”