"What about Laird Duncan?" Lord Darcy asked.
"Well, that's a different matter. I'm afraid that his back injury was aggravated, and that crack on the chin didn't do him any good. I don't know whether Father Bright can help him or not. Healing takes the co-operation of the patient. I did all I could for him, but I'm just a chirurgeon, not a practitioner of the Healing Art. Father Bright has quite a good reputation in that line, however, and he may be able to do his lordship some good."
Master Sean shook his head dolefully. "His Reverence has the Talent, there's no doubt of that, but now he's pitted against another man who has it—a man whose mind is bent on self-destruction in the long run."
"Well, that's none of my affair," said Dr. Pateley. "I'm just a technician. I'll leave healing up to the Church, where it belongs."
"Master Sean," said Lord Darcy, "there is still a mystery here. We need more evidence. What about the eyes?"
Master Sean blinked. "You mean the picture test, my lord?"
"I do."
"It won't stand up in court, my lord," said the sorcerer.
"I'm aware of that," said Lord Darcy testily.
"Eye test?" Dr. Pateley asked blankly. "I don't believe I understand."