"I don't want to trade on that," returned the doctor, hastily. "But it is an old dream of mine to tell you, sir, about my work, and how and why I came to take it up. I was not intended for medicine, you see; my people are army people, were Border outlaws once upon a time, and fighting folk ever since. My father was an ensign in the Crimea--Scots Fusiliers. I joined the Argyll and Sutherlands the year before South Africa--where, by the way, I remember seeing you with your Yeomen." "I had eighteen months of it without a headache or a scratch." "I wish I could say the same, Mr. Vinson. I was shot through the head at the Modder, ten days after I landed." "Through the head, did you say?" asked the Home Secretary, lifting his own some inches. The doctor touched the silver patch in his dark strong hair. "That's where the bullet came slinking out; any but a Mauser would have carried all before it! As it was, it left me with a bit of a squint, as you can see; otherwise, in a very few weeks, I was as fit as ever--physically." "Wonderful!" "Physically and even mentally--from a medical point of view--but not morally, Mr. Vinson! Something subtle had happened, some pressure somewhere, some form of local paralysis. And it left me a pretty low-down type, I can tell you! It was a case of absolute automatism--but I won't go into particulars now, if you don't mind." "On no account, my dear doctor!" exclaimed the Secretary of State, with inadvertent cordiality. "This is all of extraordinary interest. I believe I can see what's coming. But I want to hear every word you care to tell me--and not one that you don't." "It had destroyed my moral sense on just one curious point; but, thank God, I came to see the cause as well as to suffer unspeakably from the effect. After that it was a case of killing or curing oneself by hook or by crook. I decided to try the curing first. And--to cut a long yarn short--I _was_ cured." "Easily?" "No. The slander may come home to roost, but I shall never think much of the London specialist! I've dropped my two sovereigns and a florin into too many of their itching palms, beginning with the baronets and knights and ending up with the unknown adventures. But not a man-Jack of them was ashamed to pocket his two guineas (in one case three) for politely telling me I was as mad as a hatter to think of such a thing as really was the matter with me!" "And in the end?" "In the end I struck a fellow with an open mind--but not in England--and if I said that he literally opened mine it might be an exaggeration, but that's all. He did go prospecting in my skull--risked his reputation as against my life--but we both came out on top." "And you've been your own man ever since?"