“Thank you, Polton,” said Thorndyke. “I see you diagnosed my visitor as a professional brother.”
Polton crinkled benevolently and admitted that he “thought the gentleman looked like one of us’; and with this he melted away, closing the door behind him without a sound.
“Well,” said Thorndyke, as he handed me my tea-cup, “what have you been doing with yourself since you left the hospital?”
“Principally looking for a job,” I replied; “and now I’ve found one—a temporary job, though I don’t know how temporary. To-morrow I take over the practice of a man named Cornish in Mecklenburgh-square. Cornish is a good deal run down, and wants to take a quiet holiday on the East Coast. He doesn’t know how long he will be away. It depends on his health; but I have told him that I am prepared to stay as long as he wants me to. I hope I shan’t make a mess of the job, but I know nothing of general practice.”
“You will soon pick it up,” said Thorndyke; “but you had better get your principal to show you the ropes before he goes, particularly the dispensing and bookkeeping. The essentials of practice, you know, but the little practical details have to be learnt, and you are doing well to make your first plunge into professional life in a practice that is a going concern. The experience will be valuable when you make a start on your own account.”
On this plane of advice and comment our talk proceeded until I thought that I had stayed long enough, when I once more rose to depart. Then, as we were shaking hands, Thorndyke reverted to the object of my visit.
“I shall not appear in this case unless the coroner wishes me to,” said he. “I shall consult with the official medical witness, and he will probably give our joint conclusions in his evidence; unless we should fail to agree, which is very unlikely. But you will be present, and you had better attend closely to the evidence of all the witnesses and let me have your account of the inquest as well as the shorthand writer’s report. Good-bye, Gray. You won’t be far away if you should want my help or advice.”
I left the precincts of the Temple in a much more satisfied frame of mind. The mystery which seemed to me to surround the death of Julius D’Arblay would be investigated by a supremely competent observer, and I need not further concern myself with it. Perhaps there was no mystery at all. Possibly the evidence at the inquest would supply a simple explanation. At any rate, it was out of my hands and into those of one immeasurably more capable and I could now give my undivided attention to the new chapter of my life that was to open on the morrow.
CHAPTER III.
The Doctor’s Revelations
It was in the evening of the very day on which I took up my duties at number 61 Mecklenburgh-square that the little blue paper was delivered summoning me to attend at the inquest on the following day. Fortunately, Dr. Cornish’s practice was not of a highly strenuous type, and the time of year tended to a small visiting list, so that I had no difficulty in making the necessary arrangements. In fact, I made them so well that I was the first to arrive at the little building in which the inquiry was to be held and was admitted by the caretaker to the empty room. A few minutes later, however, the inspector made his appearance, and while I was exchanging a few words with him the jury began to straggle in, followed by the reporters, a few spectators and witnesses, and finally the coroner, who immediately took his place at the head of the table and prepared to open the proceedings.