"And you do not need help--additional advice?" "If I did, a letter or telegram would bring down a couple of London's most eminent men; but they could do nothing." Salis sighed. "But can I do nothing?" "Only help me to have perfect rest and peace." "But about your patients? Moredock is complaining bitterly." "My patients must go elsewhere," said North slowly. "I cannot see anybody." "Don't think I am moved by curiosity; but are you sure that you are doing what is best for yourself?" "Quite sure. Let me cure myself my own way, and--and--" "Well--what, old fellow?" said Salis, for the doctor had ceased speaking. "Don't take any notice of what I say at times. I've--I've been working a little too hard, and--at times--" "Yes, at times?" "I feel a little delirious, and say things I should not say at other times--times I say, at other times." There was a singularity in his utterance, and his repetitions, which struck Salis; and these broken sentences were strange even to the verge of being terrible, coming as they did out of the darkness before him. "Oh, yes; I understand," he hastened to say cheerfully. "I know, old fellow. Want a wet towel about your head and rest." "Yes--and rest," said North quietly. "Rest and plenty of sleep. I set your disorder down to that," said Salis, as a feeling of uneasiness which he could not master seemed to increase. At one moment he felt that his friend was not in a proper condition to judge what was best for him; at another he concluded that he was; and that, after all, it was a strange thing that a man could not do as he liked in his own house, even to shutting himself up in a dark room to rest his eyes. A strange silence had fallen upon the place, and, in spite of his efforts, Salis could not bear it. A dozen subjects sprang to his lips, and he was about to utter them, but he felt that they would be inappropriate; and as North remained perfectly silent, and the uneasy feeling consequent upon sitting there in the darkness, conversing, as it were, with the invisible, increasing, Salis rose. "Well," he said, "I'm glad I came, old fellow. I haven't bothered you much?" "No." "And I may come again?" A pause. Then--"Yes." "And you'll see me?" "I cannot see you. I shall be glad if you'll come. I feel safer and better when you are here." Salis winced a little. Then a thought struck him. "Look here, old fellow. Come and stay with us for a change." North seemed to start violently, and Salis felt how grave a mistake he had made. For the moment he had forgotten everything about Leo, and he bit his lip at his folly. "No. Go now." "Will you shake hands?" "No, no," said North passionately. "Go, man; go now. Don't come again for some days." "As you will, North; only remember this--a message will fetch me at any time. You will summon me if I can be of any use?"