elligence, and his
answers were frequently obscure, which I attributed to his limited
acquaintance with our language. Suddenly, however, as I sat writing,
he ceased to give any answer at all to my inquiries, and on my turning
towards him I was shocked to see that he was sitting bolt upright in his
chair, staring at me with a perfectly blank and rigid face. He was again
in the grip of his mysterious malady.

"My first feeling, as I have just said, was one of pity and horror.
My second, I fear, was rather one of professional satisfaction. I made
notes of my patient's pulse and temperature, tested the rigidity of his
muscles, and examined his reflexes. There was nothing markedly abnormal
in any of these conditions, which harmonized with my former experiences.
I had obtained good results in such cases by the inhalation of nitrite
of amyl, and the present seemed an admirable opportunity of testing
its virtues. The bottle was downstairs in my laboratory, so leaving my
patient seated in his chair, I ran down to get it. There was some little
delay in finding it--five minutes, let us say--and then I returned.
Imagine my amazement to find the room empty and the patient gone.

"Of course, my first act was to run into the waiting-room. The son had
gone also. The hall door had been closed, but not shut. My page who
admits patients is a new boy and by no means quick. He waits downstairs,
and runs up to show patients out when I ring the consulting-room bell.
He had heard nothing, and the affair remained a complete mystery. Mr.
Blessington came in from his walk shortly afterwards, but I did not say
anything to him upon the subject, for, to tell the truth, I have got in
the way of late of holding as little communication with him as possible.

"Well, I never thought that I should see anything more of the Russian
and his son, so you can imagine my amazement when, at the very same hour
this evening, they both came marching into my consulting-room, just as
they had done before.

"'I feel that I owe you a great many apologies for my abrupt departure
yesterday, doctor,' said my patient.

"'I confess that I was very much surprised at it,' said I.

"'Well, the fact is,' he remarked, 'that when I recover from these
attacks my mind is always very clouded as to all that has gone before. I
woke up in a strange room, as it seemed to me, and made my way out into
the street in a sort of dazed way when you were absent.'

"'And I,' said the son,