Tor, who had some business to get through before starting for England, took up his quarters at the hotel, and sent off a good many telegraphic messages; and in a few hours’ time repaired to the doctor’s house to hear his verdict as to Phil’s condition. ‘I will undertake the case of your friend, mein Herr, for it interests me; but I am sure there is more injury than is to be accounted for by the sunstroke. I suspect a slight effusion on the brain, from the rupture of some tiny vessel: there are symptoms of compression, which are not to be explained by a simple sunstroke.’ Tor looked disturbed. ‘You do not think him seriously ill, I hope?’ ‘Everything, my dear young friend, that affects the human brain is serious. The brain is a most wonderful and complicated structure. I could demonstrate to you, by the aid of my microscope, how——’ ‘Excuse me, doctor, but you have made me anxious. You do not mean to say that you consider my friend’s life in danger?’ Such a complication as Phil’s death, before his assumption of his own name and position, could not be contemplated without a shudder. The doctor raised his hands with a gesture of horror. ‘Oh no, no, no—_nein, nein_—not at all, my dear sir—not at all; pray do not alarm yourself needlessly. Herr Torwood’s life is in no danger at all, so far as my experience goes—none whatever; but the case is, nevertheless, a serious one—all cases of compression are serious. He may be a long while getting over it—he may remain many weeks in his present state. You called him “unconscious;” but that is hardly the correct word to use. He is in a torpid helpless state, and to you he seems insensible; but medically speaking, it is not real coma. Still, he is absolutely incapable of any thought or volition, and his mind is all astray; and this condition of torpor may last some while. I heard of a case somewhat similar, where the balance of the faculties was not restored for above a year.’ Tor listened aghast. Dr. Schneeberger’s innocent zeal filled him with dismay, akin to irritation. ‘You do not mean that you think my friend will be a year in recovering?’ he asked sharply. ‘My dear sir, no, a thousand times no; such cases are _most_ rare; it may never be my good fortune to meet with one like it. I merely mentioned the matter to show you how impossible it was to say how long a time will elapse before a patient will recover his full consciousness. Your friend will, in all probability, make far more rapid progress. Still, if there is, as I suspect, some slight effusion of blood upon the brain, it may be some while before the system will re-absorb it.’ ‘Can nothing be done?’ questioned Tor impatiently. ‘Would any operation hasten his recovery? As it happens just now, it is of great importance that he should be able to return soon to England; affairs there require his presence. Can you do nothing of that sort, doctor?’ Dr. Schneeberger shook his head, and his odd, expressive face put on a shrewd look of gravity.