“What is that?”
“Why, a commission to inquire into, and report upon, her sanity.”
“We might? We will. That’s exactly what we’ll do. But how? What are the necessary steps to take?”
“Why, when she’s brought up for sentence, next week, and asked what she has to say, and so forth, you have an attorney on hand, and let him declare his conviction, based upon affidavits, that she’s a lunatic, and then move that sentence be suspended pending the investigation of her sanity by a commission to be appointed by the court—understand? Our side won’t oppose, and the judge will grant the motion as a matter of course.”
“Ah, yes; I see.—Mercy upon me, I never knew a fainting fit to last so long as this; did you?”
“Well, I’m not much posted on fainting-fits in general, but it’ does seem as though this was an uncommonly lengthy one, to be sure.”
Arthur’s face betrayed no sign of vitality except for the gentle flutter of his nostrils as his breath came and went.
“Poor fellow,” mused Romer, “what an infernal pickle he’s gone and got himself into! It’s the strangest coincidence I ever heard of. There he was, pegging away at that case month after month, and never suspecting that the lady in question was his wife! And she—she never told him. Queer, ain t it? As far as we were concerned, we never should have lifted a finger, only I was anxious to do Ripley a good turn. He’s a nice fellow, is Ripley, and I always liked him and his father before him. That’s why we took this business up—just for the sake of giving him a lift, you know. As for his client, old Peixada, we’d have seen him hanged before we’d have troubled ourselves about his affairs—except, as I say, for Ripley’s sake. And now, this is what comes of it. Well, Ripley never was cut out for a lawyer anyhow. He had too many notions, and didn’t take things practically enough. Why, when the question of advertising first came up, he was as squeamish about it, and made as much fuss, as if he’d known all the time who she was.”
“Here’s the doctor, sir,” cried Jim, entering at this point.
Jim was followed by a young gentleman in uniform, who, without waiting to hear the history of the case, at once approached the sofa, and began to exercise his craft. He undid Arthur’s cravat, unbuttoned his shirt collar, placed one hand upon his forehead, and with the other hand felt his pulse.