"He is. I met him twice at Alnwick Hall when I went down to the funerals; George St. John's and poor Benja's. Isaac was too ill to go each time, and I had to represent him. Do you"--he paused a moment in hesitation, and then went on--"think it likely that Mr. Norris died insane? I am sure there is no insanity on Mrs. Darling's side."
"I have no reason for thinking so," replied the dean. "I was in want of a servant at the time, and a man who had lived with Mr. Norris applied to me for the situation. It was the surgeon, Pym, who spoke to his character: Mrs. Norris was ill and could not be seen. I engaged him. He had been the personal attendant of Mr. Norris in his last illness."
"Did he ever say what Mr. Norris's disease was?"
"No. He was very reserved. A good servant, but one of the closest men I ever came across. I once asked him what illness his master had died of, and he said fever. I observed that Mr. Pym had told me it was not fever. He replied he believed the illness had a little puzzled Mr. Pym, but he himself felt sure it was fever of some description; there could be no doubt whatever about it."
"Is he with you now?"
"No, poor fellow, he is dead. My place was too hard for him, for I kept only one man then, and he left me for a lighter one. After that he went back to his late mistress, who had just married Colonel Darling. A little later I heard of his death."
Frederick St. John was paying no attention to this last item of explanation: he had fallen into a train of thought. The dean looked at him.
"Dr. Beauclerc, if any one could throw light upon this subject, it is Pym. I wish you would write and ask him."
"Ask him what?"
"What Mr. Norris really died of. It might have been insanity."