e prelude to his dinner. From his manner
it struck me that he was in mortal dread of something or somebody, but
when I questioned him upon the point he became so offensive that I was
compelled to drop the subject. Gradually, as time passed, his fears
appeared to die away, and he had renewed his former habits, when a fresh
event reduced him to the pitiable state of prostration in which he now
lies.

"What happened was this. Two days ago I received the letter which I now
read to you. Neither address nor date is attached to it.

"'A Russian nobleman who is now resident in England,' it runs, 'would
be glad to avail himself of the professional assistance of Dr. Percy
Trevelyan. He has been for some years a victim to cataleptic attacks, on
which, as is well known, Dr. Trevelyan is an authority. He proposes to
call at about quarter past six to-morrow evening, if Dr. Trevelyan will
make it convenient to be at home.'

"This letter interested me deeply, because the chief difficulty in the
study of catalepsy is the rareness of the disease. You may believe,
then, that I was in my consulting-room when, at the appointed hour, the
page showed in the patient.

"He was an elderly man, thin, demure, and commonplace--by no means the
conception one forms of a Russian nobleman. I was much more struck by
the appearance of his companion. This was a tall young man, surprisingly
handsome, with a dark, fierce face, and the limbs and chest of a
Hercules. He had his hand under the other's arm as they entered, and
helped him to a chair with a tenderness which one would hardly have
expected from his appearance.

"'You will excuse my coming in, doctor,' said he to me, speaking English
with a slight lisp. 'This is my father, and his health is a matter of
the most overwhelming importance to me.'

"I was touched by this filial anxiety. 'You would, perhaps, care to
remain during the consultation?' said I.

"'Not for the world,' he cried with a gesture of horror. 'It is more
painful to me than I can express. If I were to see my father in one of
these dreadful seizures I am convinced that I should never survive
it. My own nervous system is an exceptionally sensitive one. With your
permission, I will remain in the waiting-room while you go into my
father's case.'

"To this, of course, I assented, and the young man withdrew. The patient
and I then plunged into a discussion of his case, of which I took
exhaustive notes. He was not remarkable for int