Certainly he looked a quaint figure as he emerged into the high road--a quaint but not unpleasing one. Long he was--six feet, and four inches over that--but square-shouldered and supple. His carriage was easy, but not of a military description, and he stooped slightly, with the stoop of the rowing-man rather than that of one engaged in sedentary work or of one who has overgrown his strength. He looked, as he strolled across the road, like a long, lean hound, trained to the hour, hard as steel and tough as hickory. His face was well cut, with rather sleepy eyes and a certain gentleness about the corners of the mouth that had caused his school-fellows to regard him as somewhat of a "soft"--until he hit them. His hair was clipped short and well brushed, and his complexion was pink with health and the application of cold water. As Jim was moving across the road in his indolently graceful way, a carriage and pair approached at a quick trot. At a word from one of its occupants the coachman pulled up close by the young surgeon. "Can you tell me, please, if this is Dr Mortimer’s?" inquired a stern-faced elderly lady, whose rich mantle and handsome equipage betokened her to be a person of means and possibly of position. "Yes, all of this," replied Jim, with a comprehensive wave of his hand which took in each side of the road, "is Dr Mortimer’s." A pretty girl was sitting by his questioner’s side, and the fact was not lost upon Jim. "The Doctor is out," he added, "but I am a medical man. Can I be of service to you?" The lady surveyed Jim’s dressing-gown with evident disapproval, but Jim glanced unconcernedly at the telephone wire overhead. Meanwhile the pretty girl gazed straight before her at the blue smoke curling over the housetops in Threeways, having decided that this very tall man in such unorthodox attire was quite good-looking. "I prefer to see Dr Mortimer himself. Do you think he will be in soon?" "He may be in at any moment," said Jim; "that is the way to his house," he added to the coachman, "through those gates." "I am obliged to you." The lady sat back without troubling to bestow another glance on Jim, but she observed to her companion as they entered the drive that the extraordinary young fellow in the dressing-gown was probably one of the madmen. Jim Mortimer, sauntering on, at length reached the asylum, a cheerful-looking red-brick-building, standing healthily high. He found Hughes in the patients’ common room--a spacious and airy apartment provided with a piano, a bagatelle board, and other requisites for indoor pastimes. As Jim was chatting with the head attendant, a grey-haired, round-shouldered man of some sixty summers came up to them. "Take care, Mr James!" he exclaimed, "he’s just behind you! Oh, if I had a gun now!" Jim knew that Mr Richards--the speaker--had "alligators" on his bad days. "No, he’s gone under the table," replied Jim. "See him? Here, lend me a cue, and I’ll kill him."