He glanced at his visitors. Saw that they were well-dressed men in ulsters and low-crowned hats, and that the speaker was a well-built fellow with a closely-cut beard; while another was a rather Mephistophelean-looking man, with cheeks closely shaven, and upper lip bearing a bristly moustache. Between them they supported a slight, young-looking companion, who was moaning slightly, but evidently making an effort to be firm. "Mind, Harry--Rogers," he said, in a high-pitched voice, "it's as if something red-hot was running through my chest! Ah-h-h!" "Support him, gentlemen," said the doctor. "Mind he doesn't faint. Here, quick! Here!" He spoke in sharp, decided tones, as he directed and helped them to lay the injured man upon the settee, where he subsided with a querulous cry, grinding his teeth the while, and compressing his lips. "Kindly shut both doors," said the doctor; and the man who had first spoken, and who looked very pale, obeyed. "So cursedly unlucky!" he said excitedly. "I never saw such a fog. They've no business to allow men to drive fast on a night like this." "Don't talk, old chap. Not serious, I hope, doctor?" said the Mephistophelean man. "Cab seemed to come out of the fog, and he was knocked down. I got an ugly blow on the shoulder." "Get me some brandy," said the injured man faintly. "My chest's crushed." "No, no, not so bad as that," said the doctor kindly. "You shall have a stimulus soon. Now, then, suppose we see what the damage is. A broken rib, I expect, and that will only mean a little pain. Now, then." His busy fingers were rapidly and tenderly unbuttoning the injured man's coat, while a gasping moan came from his lips. "Hurts me horribly--to breathe, doctor." There was a gasping sound, and the Mephistophelean man reeled, tried to save himself, and fell against the consulting-room door, which somehow flew open, revealing the sleeping figure of Mark Heath on the couch. "My dear sir--faint?" "I beg your pardon, doctor," said the sinister-looking man. "Sick as a great girl. I can bear pain, but to see him like that turned me over. No, no, see to him; I'm better now." The doctor continued his task, while the door swung to once more. "Still feel faint?" said the doctor, without looking up. "Oh, no; it's all gone now. I really am ashamed." "Nothing to be ashamed of, my dear sir. It is a man's nature. Now I shall be obliged to ask one of you to lend me a little assistance here." The bearded man stood ready, and exchanged a glance with his Mephistophelean companion, who was behind the doctor now. "Ah!" Dr Chartley uttered a quick ejaculation, for, as he bent over his patient, the man behind struck him a heavy blow with a short thick life-preserver, and, quick almost as lightning, delivered another crashing stroke on the back of the head.