The doctor, although hardly more than a boy, seemed to know his business, and after examining the girl and asking a few questions, he proceeded to administer various remedies, which he took out of a bag he carried. "I am afraid this case is too serious for me," he said at last. "What is the trouble?" "Of course, I can't speak with any certainty, but from what you tell me, I think the lady is in for an attack of brain fever." Crichton felt _his_ brain reel. "What shall I do?" "We will take her home and in the meantime telephone to whatever doctor you wish to have called, so that he can see the patient as soon as possible." "I have no house in town. I was going into lodgings but I can't take an invalid there." "Of course not! What do you say to taking her at once to a nursing home?" "Yes, that would be best. Which one would you recommend? I am ignorant of such matters." "Well--Dr. Stuart-Smith has one not far from here. You know him by reputation, don't you?" "Certainly. All right, take her there." "I had better telephone and prepare them for our arrival. What is the lady's name, please?" The inspector's eyes were upon him; Peter was at his elbow. Well--there was no help for it. "Mrs. Cyril Crichton," he said. The doctor returned in a few minutes. "It is all right. They have got a room and Doctor Smith will be there almost as soon as we are." Having lifted her into the ambulance, the doctor turned to Cyril and said: "I suppose you prefer to accompany Mrs. Crichton. You can get in, in front." Crichton meekly obeyed. "Take my things to the lodgings and wait for me there, and by the way, be sure to telephone at once to Mr. Campbell and tell him I must see him immediately," he called to Peter as they drove off. They had apparently got rid of the police--that was something at all events. His own position, however, caused him the gravest concern. It was not only compromising but supremely ridiculous. He must extricate himself from it at once. His only chance, he decided, lay in confiding the truth to Dr. Smith. Great physicians have necessarily an enormous knowledge of life and therefore he would be better able than any other man to understand the situation and advise him as to what should be done. At all events the etiquette of his calling would prevent a doctor from divulging a professional secret, even in the case of his failing to sympathise with his, Cyril's, knight-errantry. Crichton heaved a sigh of satisfaction. His troubles, he foresaw, would soon be over. The ambulance stopped. The girl was carried into the house and taken possession of by an efficient-looking nurse, and Cyril was requested to wait in the reception-room while she was being put to bed. Dr. Smith, he was told, would communicate with him as soon as he had examined the patient.