In the next second I found myself looking into the muzzle of a revolver. They say that when a man is in imminent danger, the mental strain is relieved automatically by trivialities of thought; and, do you know, the first thing that flamed through my head was, “How many turns does the rifling take in a barrel of that length?”
“I have come to kill you,” said my visitor in a tone as cold as camphor ice, yet with a dignified courtesy I could not but admire. Was I face to face with a crank? This question I decided in the negative, and the situation became so much the more—piquant, shall I say? Well, I can say it now, at least. Perspective adds piquancy, very often.
“Sir,” I said as quietly-as most men could when a very earnest gentleman has the drop on them, “sir, there is certainly some mistake here.”
It may have been an inane remark; but at least he didn’t pull the trigger, and that gained time.
“There is none, I am equally certain,” he replied.
“You have me at a decided disadvantage,” I continued, “and as any movement of attack or alarm on my part would precipitate fatalities, may I request that before you kill me, you at least tell me why you propose to do so. I make this request because, as a physician, I can see that you are perfectly sane and not the crank I at first thought you.”
I was regaining my nerve, you see; if there is one thing in this world to give a man nerve and coolness, it’s to put it right up to him to avoid the next one. At any rate, the fairness of my request must have appealed to my visitor, for he said, “Certainly I will tell you, doctor. That is only just. I kill you because you performed a critical operation on my wife, and she is dying.”
“This is all a fearful error,” I exclaimed eagerly. “I do not even know you, have never seen you nor your wife, much less operated upon her. Surgeons of my standing in the profession—I say this advisedly, sir—usually know whom they treat.”
“Usually they do, I grant you,” he assented, but he emphasized the wrong word quite unpleasantly. “This has been an exception,” he added.
“Why do you believe it was I who operated?” I urged.