They found themselves--at least, the doctor and Sally did--inferring, from his refreshed manner and his confidence about departing, that his memory was coming back, or would come back. It might have seemed needless inquisitiveness to press him with further questions. They left the point alone. After all, they had no more right to catechize him about himself than if he had been knocked down by a cart outside the door, and brought into the house unconscious--a thing which might quite well have happened. Mrs. Nightingale seemed very anxious he should not go away quite unprovided with money. She asked Dr. Vereker to pass him on a loan from her before he parted with him. He could post it back when it was quite convenient, so the doctor was to tell him. The doctor asked, Wasn't a sovereign a large order? But she seemed to think not. "Besides," said she, "it makes it certain we shall not lose sight of him. I'm not sure we ought to let him go at all," added she. She seemed very uneasy about it--almost exaggeratedly so, the doctor thought. But he was reassuring and confident, and she allowed his judgment to overrule hers. But he must bring him back without scruple if he saw reason to do so. He promised, and the two departed together, the gait and manner of Fenwick giving rise to no immediate apprehension. "How rum!" said Sally, when they had gone. "I never thought I should live to see a man electrocuted." "A man what?" "Well, half-electrocuted, then. I say, mother----" "What, dear?" She is looking very tired, and speaks absently. Sally makes the heat responsible again in her mind, and continues: "I don't believe his name's Algernon at all! It's Arthur, or Andrew, or something of that sort." "You're very wise, poppet. Why?" "Because you stopped such a long time after Algernon. It was like cheating at Spiritualism. You _must_ say the alphabet quite steady--A--B--C--D----" Sally sketches out the proper attitude for the impartial inquirer. "Or else you're an accomplice." "You're a puss! No, _his_ name's Algernon, right enough.... I mean, I've no doubt it's Algernon. Why shouldn't it be?" "No reason at all. Dr. Vereker's is Conrad, so, of course, there's no reason why his shouldn't be Algernon." Satisfactory and convincing! At least, the speaker thinks so, and is perfectly satisfied. Her mother doesn't quarrel with the decision. "Kitten!" she says suddenly. And then in reply to her daughter's, "What's up, mammy dear?" she suggests that they shall walk out in front--it is a quiet, retired sort of cul-de-sac road, ending in a fence done over with tar, with nails along the top like the letter _L_ upside down--in the cool. "It's quite delicious now the sun's gone down, and Martha can make supper another half-hour late." Agreed. The mother pauses as they reach the gate. "Who's that talking?" she asks, and listens. "Nobody. It's only the sparrows going to bed." "No, no; not that! Shish! be quiet! I'm sure I heard Dr. Vereker's voice----"