On Monday morning, however, the Castle was thrown into a state of the greatest consternation. The doctor pronounced him to be suffering from scarlet fever, and Lord and Lady Gascoyne were filled with alarm for the safety of their own child.
Walter Chard had been constantly with him, and any moment little Lord Hammerton might develop the complaint.
The sick child was immediately secluded at the extreme end of the castle, and a trained nurse was sent for. From the moment I heard that it was scarlet fever my mind was at work. Supposing Hammerton did not develop the complaint, would it be possible to convey the infection to him?
If I could get near Walter Chard in the convalescent stage it would be easy enough.
Of course, it did not follow that even if Lord Hammerton took the infection he would die, but there was the chance that he might.
Lady Gascoyne talked of removing him from the castle at once, but the doctor decided that it was not necessary.
“Our patient is too far away to do any mischief. He is for practical purposes quite isolated, and if you disinfect the rooms he has been living in you need not be in the least alarmed.”
On my return to town I waited a week, and then wrote to Lady Gascoyne, saying that I hoped Lord Hammerton showed no signs of having caught the infection. I displayed so exactly the right amount of solicitude that on meeting Lord Gascoyne in town he greeted me, for him, almost effusively.
“My wife was quite touched, Rank. Naturally, we were alarmed, but I fancy it’s all right. The other little chap will soon be on the road to recovery. Come down with me to-morrow if you are not afraid.”
It was exactly what I wanted. The chance might not again offer itself to carry out my design. I met Lord Gascoyne at Waterloo, and we travelled down together. It was the sort of travelling that suited me to perfection; a saloon carriage had been reserved for us, and all along the line we were treated like royalty.