“Yes — I suppose that’s all we can do, Mrs. Lorrimer. You have both been marvelous. How you can stay on after all that is beyond me.”
“We’ve our duty to Sir Anthony, sir, and to you. We’ve been in his service nigh on twenty years. And we’ve our faith.”
“The maid left at once, I suppose?”
“Yes, Mr. Tony. She slept through the first part of the commotion, but she heard Sir Anthony crying out in our room afterwards, and that finished her. Just packed her bags and went. Feckless hussy!”
A bell jangled over their heads, and Lorrimer stood up.
“That’ll be Tregellis, Mr. Tony,” said he, “back from Portreath.”
A few minutes later Tony was reading Hamilton’s wire announcing the coming of Dr. Nicholas Gaunt on the following day.
Chapter IV
I
Tony was walking up and down the platform at Redruth, smoking a cigarette, and wondering what manner of man this Dr. Gaunt would turn out to be. Dr. Pellew had never heard of him, but then Dr. Pellew himself confessed that he was not in touch with modern psychology. Tony knew that he could rely on Hamilton to do his best, but he was rather doubtful about the outcome of this forlorn hope.
His conjectures were presently interrupted by the distant rumble of the train, and he ceased his perambulations and stood beneath a lamp. The engine roared by in a flurry of steam, the brakes screamed harshly, and the train came to a grinding standstill. A number of people descended, amongst whom was a tall, thin figure in a dark overcoat, who glanced up and down the platform uncertainly. Seeing Tony obviously waiting, he approached, hat in hand, and asked if he had the pleasure of addressing Mr. Anthony Lovell. Tony acknowledged his identity, and the doctor introduced himself. Gripping the firm, cool hand held out to him, and gazing into those wonderful eyes, Tony felt all his doubts vanish. If this man could not cure his father, he told himself, no one could.
The doctor’s luggage was collected with the help of a porter and bestowed in the waiting car. Tony took the wheel, and soon they were threading their way out of the narrow streets of the straggling industrial town into the dusky lanes leading to the coast.
The doctor had expressed a wish to see the patient before discussing the case, in order that he might not form any preconceived opinions, so they conversed on general topics during the drive. Tony found his first impression confirmed at every point, for Dr. Gaunt’s conversation was both charming and exceedingly well informed; and by the time they reached Pentock the two were firm friends.
They did not stop at the Three Fishermen for a meal, as Tony had done, for the doctor insisted that every moment was precious, and that he must see Sir Anthony as soon as possible. Tregellis was found in the bar, and sent down to prepare the boat; the car was put away, and in a very short time they were in the launch and heading for the island.
Strange, Tony thought, as they climbed up to the Abbey, silently for very want of breath, how different this was from his first coming to Kestrel, two days ago. Then he had felt desolate, unhappy at the thought of his father’s strange affliction, oppressed by the dark threat of the fortress-like pile above them; a prisoner being led to his doom. Now he was confident, happy almost, secure in the genial comradeship of the man beside him, bringing hope and, he believed, salvation to this father.
Lorrimer met them at the inner door, and respectfully welcomed the man who had come to save his master. His wife was hovering in the background, and, as soon as she was able, bore off the visitor to his room, smiling all over her homely features.
As soon as Gaunt had disappeared up the staircase Dr. Pellew came out of the library, and listened gloomily to Tony’s panegyric of the newcomer’s virtues.
“As I’ve said before, my boy,” he stated, “if anyone can do more for your father than I’ve done, he’s welcome to try, but for my part, I don’t believe it’s possible.”
But when Gaunt reappeared, and Tony introduced the two doctors, he was secretly amused to note how Dr. Pellew’s hardly veiled animosity disappeared before the other’s tact and courtesy.
“My dear sir,” Gaunt said, “you G.P.s are the backbone of our profession. Your general knowledge is profound. You yourself, for instance, could deal with hundreds of cases in which I should be worse than helpless. Obstetrics, for example, a subject of which I know practically nothing, whereas you bring dozens of children safely into the world every year: a most admirable achievement. But in this realm of the mind strange cases occur once in a while, and that is where I and my fellow psycho-practitioners come in. We have the special knowledge necessary to deal with matters right outside ordinary medical practice.”
Dr. Pellew, beaming with simple pleasure, replied:
“You are perfectly right, Doctor. Never in all my experience have I seen a case like Sir Anthony’s. My villagers indulge in a variety of complaints, but their minds are too simple, bless ’em, to go astray as his has done.”
After outlining his diagnosis and treatment of the case so far Dr. Pellew took his colleague up to see the patient, leaving Tony alone.
Sir Anthony lay as he had done since his last outburst, the solitary candle by the bedside throwing his angular features into sharp relief. Gaunt approached, took the lean wrist, and felt his pulse. Then he peered narrowly into the half-closed eyes and shook his head. Motioning Dr. Pellew to accompany him, he left the room. Once outside, he said:
“I can do nothing until the effect of your last injection has worn off. That will be at about noon tomorrow, will it not?”
The other assented, and they went down the broad staircase to where Tony was anxiously waiting in the hall below.
“There is absolutely nothing to worry about, Mr. Lovell,” Dr. Gaunt told him. “I cannot commence my treatment until Sir Anthony has recovered from the effects of the drug which Dr. Pellew has, quite rightly, been using. Tomorrow will be soon enough. Leave everything to me.”
Shortly after dinner Dr. Pellew retired for the night, saying that he wished to leave the island early in the morning and return to his neglected practice at Pentock.
“Not that anything urgent will have happened, you know, except possibly for a few cuts and bruises. I’m expecting no babies this month,” he said with a smile as he bade them good night.
When he had gone Dr. Gaunt gave Tony his private opinion.
“We must not delude ourselves, Mr. Lovell. Your father is desperately ill — in his mind. Admittedly Pellew’s treatment, the only possible one for a man of his limited knowledge, would have infallibly killed Sir Anthony within a few days. But the only real trouble lies in this mind. My first step will be to induce a state of hypnosis, when he will be quite safe for an indefinite period. Then I shall endeavour to find out what caused this abnormal state of terror, and afterwards, if necessary, erase it utterly from his memory.”
“And you can do this, Doctor? You’re certain of it?”
“Absolutely. I have treated many similar cases — some far worse than your father’s. Trust in me.”
“I do, Doctor — without any hesitation.”
They fell silent for a while, and Tony let his eyes wander round the great hall, with its lofty, timbered roof and stone walls, bare for the most part except for an occasional piece of arras, or a trophy of arms catching the light upon its polished steel. When his absent-minded gaze fell upon the staircase at the farther end he suddenly remembered the trap-door which lay beneath it, beside which his father had been found five days ago. Recalling the strange and dreadful story which Lorrimer had told, he at once began to wonder whether he should tell it to the doctor.