‘Well, sir, his last idea was, that ambitious people who had failed in their aims—such as authors whose books were roughly handled by the critics, artists whose works did not meet with the appreciation they expected, actors whose genius was not universally recognised, and suchlike—were a great bore to society, and in their turn were inclined to shun the world; so he proposed building a retreat where all such could retire to seclusion—a kind of Agapemone, you see, sir.’

‘If he had found a scanty population for his rural settlement, it would nevertheless not be for the lack of such people.’

‘Just so, sir.’

‘Do you consider his a hopeless case?’

‘I fear so, sir. He’s one of the quiet sort, you see. More violent cases are often easier to deal with. Our governor turned out a rare wild one quite cured the other day.’

‘What was his treatment?’

‘Letting him have his own way. It’s part of our governor’s system; but it was rather risky in this case.’

I feel interested, and I intimate as much.

‘Well, sir, Captain B—— had been down with the yellow fever in the West Indies, and it was such a severe attack that the doctors gave him up as a bad job, and handed him over to the black nurses to do what they could for him. They pulled him through, but with such strong doses of quinine, that before he was convalescent his reason was gone. His was suicidal mania—about the worst kind we have to do with, for the patient always has his victim handy if he can only get the means. They had a rare job to get him over to England; and when he was first put under the governor’s care, he was about the worst case we had. The governor studied him carefully, and found that letting him have his own way was the only thing that did him any good. He was very fond of bathing; and by-and-by, when he began to mend a little, he was allowed to go to a river near our place. Of course I always went too, and kept a pretty sharp eye on him. However, this did not suit him; so one day he goes to the governor and says: “Dr ——, it is not congenial to my feelings as a gentleman, always to have that fellow with me when I take my bath; I would much prefer privacy.” The governor tried to put him off; but the contradiction had a bad effect on him. Now one of the governor’s theories is, that at a certain stage of the complaint, if you can humour patients, they have every chance of recovery; cross them, and it is gone. “Captain B——,” says he, “I know that if you pass your word to me, you will keep it like a man of honour; so if you will give me your word as an officer and gentleman that if I let you go alone you will return to me in an hour and report yourself, I will let you go.” Captain B—— gave his word as required, and every day he used to do the same, always coming to give his word of honour, and returning each day to report himself, proud of being trusted. It was rather risky treatment for a suicidal patient, but it succeeded. He’s as well now, sir, as you or I.

‘There was another case we had, quite different’——