Words as wild as these to the accompaniment of that overwrought demeanour suggested an acute form of mental disturbance only too clearly.
"You had better tell me everything," said I, persuasively. "Perhaps I might be able to help a little. Two heads are better than one, you know."
I must confess that I had no great hope of being able to help the unlucky fellow very materially, but somewhat to my surprise he answered in a perfectly rational manner.
"I have come here with the intention of telling you everything. I must have help, and you are the only friend I've got."
"One of many," said I, lying cordially.
"It's true," said Fitz. "The only one. Like that chap in the Bible, the hand of every man is against me. I deserve it; I know I've not played the game; but now I must have somebody to stand by me, and I've come to you."
"Well," said I, "that is no more than you would do by me in similar circumstances."
"You don't mean that," said Fitz, with an expression of keen misery. "But you are a genuine chap, all the same."
"Let's hear the trouble."
"The trouble is this," said Fitz, and as he spoke the look of wildness returned to his eyes. "My wife went in the car to do some shopping at Middleham at three o'clock yesterday afternoon expecting to be back at five, and neither she nor the car has returned.