Dr. Percy took a decided step in this emergency. He went to the minister, to whom no one, friend or enemy, had ventured to give the slightest hint of the reports in circulation. Dr. Percy plainly stated the facts, represented that his character and the fate of his whole life were at stake, and besought his lordship to have the truth examined into by eminent and impartial physicians. Erasmus was aware of all he hazarded in making this request--aware that he must hurt Lord Oldborough’s feelings--that he must irritate him by bringing to his view at once, and in this critical moment, a number of family cabals, of which he was ignorant--aware that Lord Oldborough was oppressed with business, public and private; and that, above all things, he was impatient of any intrusion upon his hours of privacy. But all these subordinate considerations vanished before Lord Oldborough’s magnanimity. Without saying one word, he sat down and wrote an order, that proper means should be taken to ascertain the disease of which Lady Oldborough died. The report made, in consequence of this order, by the surgeons, confirmed Dr. Percy’s opinion that her ladyship’s disease was water on the chest--and Lord Oldborough took effectual means to give the truth publicity. “You need not thank me, Dr. Percy--you have a right to expect justice, more you will never want. My assistance might, it seems, have been injurious, but can never be necessary to your reputation.” These few words--much from Lord Oldborough--and which he took care to say when they could be heard by numbers, were quickly circulated. The physicians and surgeons who had given in their report were zealous in maintaining the truth; medical and political parties were interested in the affair; the name of Dr. Percy was joined with the first names in the medical world, and repeated by the first people in the great world, so that with surprising celerity he became known and fashionable. And thus the very circumstance that threatened his ruin was, by his civil courage and decided judgment, converted into the means of his rising into eminence. Late one night, after a busy and fatiguing day, just as Erasmus had got into bed, and was settling himself comfortably to sleep, he heard a loud knock at the door. “Mr. Henry, sir, from Mr. Panton’s in the city, wishes to speak with you.” “Show him in.--So, old Panton, I suppose--some indigestion has brought him to reason?” “Oh! no such thing,” interrupted Mr. Henry--“I would not have disturbed you at this time of night for any such trifle; but our excellent friend, Mr. Gresham--” “What of him?” cried Erasmus, starting up in bed.