“They thought she had left home of her own accord—that she had a lover in secret. At least, the inspector hinted at that suggestion.”
“Of course her mother was frantic,” I remarked. “But had you no suspicion of any person posing as her friend?”
“None. It was not till six days later—about one o’clock in the day, when a constable called and told Mrs. Tennison that a young lady answering the description of her daughter had been found at the roadside, and had been taken to the cottage hospital at Petersfield. We both took the next train from Waterloo, and on arrival at the hospital found the poor girl lying in bed. But so strange was her manner that she was unable to recognize either of us. All she could say were the words ‘Red, green and gold!’ and she shuddered in horror as though the colours terrified her. These words she constantly repeated—‘red, green and gold!’—‘red, green and gold!’”
“What was the doctor’s opinion?”
“He was as much puzzled as we were, sir. Apparently my poor young mistress was found early in the morning lying in the hedge on the main Portsmouth Road. Her clothes were wet, for it had rained during the night. Her boots were very muddy, and her clothes in an awful state. She seemed as if she had wandered about for hours. But all she could say to us were the words: ‘Red, green and gold.’”
“Did not she recognize her mother?” I inquired.
“No, sir. She hasn’t recognized her—even now!”
“Doctors have seen her, I suppose?”
“Oh, yes, half a dozen of them—including Doctor Moroni, the great Italian doctor. He took her to Florence for treatment, but it did her no good—none in the least.”