I determined to take the packet to the hospital next day, when I should go to inquire for the invalid, and either give it to him, or, if his condition rendered him incapable of taking care of it, intrust it to the house-surgeon. It was not permitted to me to fulfil my intention. When, after my day’s work, I went to the hospital, I found that the patient in whom I was interested had been removed.
‘We found out his name and address from some letters in his pocket,’ said the house-surgeon, ‘and sent a message to his family. His son came immediately and removed him.’
‘What is the name?’ I asked.
‘I forget. Collins or Cotton, or something like that; but I can’t speak with any certainty. He was a solicitor, I remember.’
‘Is not his name on the hospital books?’
‘No. He was here so short a time, that it was never entered.’
‘How very unfortunate!’ I exclaimed.
‘Why? Was it of importance that you should see him?’ asked the house-surgeon, an easygoing and careless youth, who had evidently felt hitherto that my interrogatories were tiresome and unnecessary, but was now roused to attention by the fervour of my tone.
‘It may be of considerable importance to him. He dropped a packet, apparently containing documents, when he fell yesterday. I picked it up, and forgot to deliver it to you when I left him in your charge. It may be essential to him to regain immediate possession of it.’
The young doctor was sufficiently interested now, but he could do nothing; he had no certain recollection of anything connected with his patient. I was forced to content myself with leaving with him my name, Richard Langham, and the address of Messrs Hamley and Green, in whose employ I was, that he might refer to me if any inquiry was made about the packet.