"Well, Dr. Cavendish, have you seen your patient?"
"No, I have not seen him," was the reply. "It is quite true that he is gone. I find he is embarking on a sea voyage, going off somewhere to the other end of the world, and he had to go up, or forfeit his passage-money."
"They told you, then, what they told me. As, of course, they would," he added inwardly.
"But there's something in it I don't altogether understand," resumed the doctor. "Not a syllable was spoken by the patient yesterday to denote that he was on the move, or that he had been on the move, even only to journey down from London. On the contrary, I gathered, or fancied I gathered, from the tenor of his remarks that he had been for some time stationary, and would be stationary for an indefinite period to come. It was when I spoke to him about the necessity of keeping himself quiet and free from exertion. What I don't understand is why he should not candidly have told me that he had this voyage before him."
Mr. Strange did not answer. Various doubts were crowding upon him. Had the man got away? in disguise, say? But no, he did not think it.
"By the way, you did not tell me your name," said the doctor, as he took his seat in the gig.
"My name! oh, did I not? My name is Tatton."
Dr. Cavendish bent down his head and spoke in a low tone. His groom was adjusting the apron.
"You hinted last night at some great trouble that this gentleman was in, Mr. Tatton. I have been wondering whether that has to do with this sudden departure--whether he had reasons for being afraid to stay?"
"Just the question that has occurred to me, Dr. Cavendish," confessed the detective. "If he has gone away, it is fear that has driven him."