“Probably not, sir, but we want to be quite certain on that point. I understand that the cause of death was the rupture of an aneurism. Can you tell me how long Sir Garth had suffered from this—disability?” The physician stood for a moment looking down at the writing-pad in front of him, his fingers playing an irritated tattoo on the woodwork of the table. Then, with a shrug of the shoulders, he sat down, signing to the detective to do the same. “Very well,” he said, “I suppose I had better do what you want, though it seems a complete waste of time—yours as well as mine. Sir Garth Fratten had been suffering from a thorasic aneurism for about a year. It was very slight at first, and I had hoped by treatment—the injection of gelatine solution—to cure it. Within the last three months, however, the dilatation had noticeably increased. I ordered complete rest—owing to the position, in the chest, an operation was out of the question—but Sir Garth was a self-willed man and would not listen to reason. He preferred, he said, to die in harness rather than lead an idle and useless life, though he did agree to knock off a certain amount of his work. There was always great danger of the aneurism bursting in the event of sudden shock and, though I hadn’t expected it quite so soon, I was in no way surprised when it occurred.” “I’m afraid I’m very ignorant, sir,” said Poole. “Would you mind telling me, not too technically, what an aneurism is?” This was pie to Sir Horace and he answered with a better grace than he had yet shown. “An aneurism is a blood-containing cavity, the walls of which are formed from the dilatation of an artery, or of its surrounding tissues. The dilatation is due to local weakness, caused by injury or disease. You might say that the general effect was rather like the ballooning of an inner tube through the outer cover of a motor tire. Naturally, if the aneurism bursts, the blood escapes from the artery into the pleura and death rapidly ensues. Do I make myself clear?” “Quite, sir. Now can you tell me if it is the case that Sir Garth’s family was in ignorance of this condition?” “Certainly not. Not, that is to say, at the time of his death. It is true that for some time Sir Garth told his family and friends that it was his heart that was troubling him—he considered that deception, I believe, to be a euphemism. But he made no stipulation to me about it and I myself told his son what was the matter with him. The boy and his sister were worried by a slight accident that had occurred to Sir Garth—only a week or two before his death, it was, as a matter of fact—and young Fratten came up here to see me about it. I wrote him out a note of explanation to show his sister—he wasn’t sure that he could explain it to her himself. It was obviously desirable that they should know, so that they could use their influence to restrain him from overdoing himself.”