As the train rolled along the charming valley, in which lie the miniature towns of Wilton, Dinton, and Tisbury, we pledged each other in right good fellowship, and by the time Exeter was reached were friendly enough to have journeyed round the world together.
Exeter behind us, I began to feel drowsy, and presently was fast asleep.
I remember no more of that ill-fated journey; nor, indeed, have I any recollection of anything at all, until I woke up in Room No. 37 of the Ship and Vulture Hotel in Plymouth.
The sunshine was streaming in through the slats of the Venetian blinds, and a portly gentleman, with a rosy face, and grey hair, was standing by my bedside, holding my wrist in his hand, and calmly scrutinizing me. A nurse in hospital dress stood beside him.
"I think he'll do now," he said to her as he rubbed his plump hands together; "but I'll look round in the course of the afternoon."
"One moment," I said feebly, for I found I was too weak to speak above a whisper. "Would you mind telling me where I am, and what is the matter with me?"
"I should very much like to be able to do so," was the doctor's reply. "My opinion is, if you want me to be candid, that you have been drugged and well-nigh poisoned by a remarkably clever chemist. But what the drug and poison were, and who administered it to you, and the motive for doing so, is more than I can tell you. From what I can learn from the hotel proprietors, you were brought here from the railway station in a cab last night by a gentleman who happened to find you in the carriage in which you travelled down from London. You were in such a curious condition that I was sent for and this nurse procured. Now you know all about it."
"What day did you say this is?"
"Saturday, to be sure."
"Saturday!" I cried. "You don't mean that! Then, by Jove, I've missed the Saratoga after all. Here, let me get up! And tell them downstairs to send for the Inspector of Police. I have got to get to the bottom of this."