At last he stopped and looked at his watch. But for the cruel man or woman who had written the anonymous letters of which Dr. Maclean had told him, he and Jean would by now have been man and wife. He reminded himself drearily that he had forgotten to cancel his order for the small suite of rooms overlooking the Thames where they were to have spent their Christmas honeymoon. Well, so much the better! It gave him a little satisfaction to know that the rooms which were to have been the scene of his ecstatic happiness were empty of life, of joy, of laughter, for at least a little while.

The door of the darkened room burst open, and Dr. Maclean’s hearty voice exclaimed exultantly: “Our trouble’s over! The Home Office is going to take no further action in the matter——”

Then he shut the door, turning on, as he did so, the electric light.

“I had a great stroke of luck! One of the two men sent to examine me was an old fellow-student of mine, a fellow called Wilson, an Aberdeen chap. It made everything easy, of course.”

86Putting his hat down on a table, he came close up to the other man.

86

“My God, Harry, don’t look like that! The trouble’s over, man—don’t you understand?”

“You’re a good friend, Maclean. I’ll never forget how you’ve stood by me in this thing——”

“Nonsense!” he said strongly. “I was as much in it as you were—your poor wife was my patient, after all. I signed her death certificate.”

“I want to ask you a question—and I trust to you to answer it truly,” said Harry Garlett in a low, tense tone.

“Ask away, man!”

The doctor said the words jokingly, but he felt hurt and disappointed—tired, too. He had put every ounce of power he possessed—and there was a good deal of power in Jock Maclean—into the difficult interview he had just carried through so successfully.

“Did you obtain an assurance that the inquiry into the cause of Emily’s death would never be reopened?”

Harry Garlett’s question made Dr. Maclean feel acutely uncomfortable. It seemed to bring back, echoing in his ears, the last words that old friend of his, Donald Wilson, had uttered: “The matter is now closed, Maclean—unless, of course, anything in 

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