“Don’t think anything about it,” he answered. “I am nervous; and to have that special medicine analyzed would set my mind at rest. I know that the medicines were always kept in a cupboard in the dressing-room. Let me go to that cupboard. Give me the key.” “But this is most alarming,” said Mrs. Pelham. “I think you must be out of your mind.” “Let me have the key of the cupboard.” “The cupboard is open, and the medicines have been removed. Dr. Tarbot was here a fortnight ago. He asked me to give him the key of that special cupboard. He told me that there was something peculiar about Piers’s death—of course we all know that he died of acute heart disease, or something of the sort, but Dr. Tarbot was anxious to make copious notes of the case, and he had lost one of the prescriptions. He took all the medicine bottles away.” While Mrs. Pelham was speaking Dick’s face grew hard and gray. “If that is the case there is no use in troubling you,” he said. “Tarbot will tell me what I desire to know. Good night.” CHAPTER XIX. “‘SCOUNDREL!’ HE SAID.” When Pelham left the house in Ashley Mansions it was not yet ten o’clock. He paused for a moment on the pavement to look at his watch and consult with himself. The result of his brief thought was that he turned with resolute steps in the direction of Harley Street. Ten minutes after he left Ashley Mansions he was ringing the bell of Luke Tarbot’s house. The door was opened, he asked if the doctor was in. The servant replied in the affirmative. “What name shall I say?” he asked. “Say that Sir Richard Pelham wishes to speak to Dr. Tarbot for a moment.” Sir Richard was asked to step into the hall, and the servant went hurriedly into a room which opened on to the hall at the left side. The next moment Tarbot came out to meet Dick and to welcome him. “Come in, Sir Richard,” he said. “I am very glad to see you. Do you mind joining me in my smoking-den? I can give you an excellent cigar and a hearty welcome.” Tarbot’s manner was cordial. The two men entered the smoking-room. Pelham declined a cigar. His manner was full of reserve, and intensely gloomy. Tarbot saw at a glance that he intended to make himself disagreeable. He gave his guest one very keen flash out of his deeply set eyes, and immediately afterwards put on his most guarded manner. It had been the lot of the great surgeon to see all sorts and conditions of men. For years now he had read the human countenance in its intricate and many phases. He saw that Dick was much troubled and desperate. This was no call of mere politeness. But it was not Tarbot’s cue to take the initiative, and he waited for his guest to speak. “I have come here to-night, Dr. Tarbot, to ask you a special question.” “What may that be?” asked Tarbot. “Have I to thank you for a very unpleasant rumor which is afloat with regard to me in my club?” “You must explain yourself. I do not understand.”