issatisfied with his consultation will consent to stay here a little
longer--something may happen which will justify a trifling sacrifice of
your own convenience. Is ten minutes' patience too much to ask of you?"

The three visitors who had waited longest consulted among themselves,
and (having nothing better to do with their time) decided on accepting
the Doctor's proposal. The visitor who believed it all to be "humbug"
coolly took a gold coin out of his pocket, tossed it into the air,
caught it in his closed hand, and walked up to the shaded lamp on the
bracket.

"Heads, stay," he said, "Tails, go." He opened his hand, and looked at
the coin. "Heads! Very good. Go on with your hocus-pocus, Doctor--I'll
wait."

"You believe in chance," said the Doctor, quietly observing him. "That
is not my experience of life."

He paused to let the stranger who now held Number Fourteen pass him into
the inner room--then followed, closing the door behind him.

CHAPTER III.

THE CONSULTATION.

THE consulting-room was better lighted than the waiting-room, and that
was the only difference between the two. In the one, as in the other, no
attempt was made to impress the imagination. Everywhere, the commonplace
furniture of a London lodging-house was left without the slightest
effort to alter or improve it by changes of any kind.

Seen under the clearer light, Doctor Lagarde appeared to be the last
person living who would consent to degrade himself by an attempt at
imposture of any kind. His eyes were the dreamy eyes of a visionary; his
look was the prematurely-aged look of a student, accustomed to give the
hours to his book which ought to have been given to his bed. To state
it briefly, he was a man who might easily be deceived by others, but who
was incapable of consciously practicing deception himself.

Signing to his visitor to be seated, he took a chair on the opposite
side of the small table that stood between them--waited a moment with
his face hidden in his hands, as if to collect himself--and then spoke.

"Do you come to consult me on a case of illness?" he inquired, "or do
you ask me to look to the darkness which hides your future life?"

The answer to these questions was frankly and briefly expressed. "I have
no need to consult you about my health. I come to hear what you can tell
me of my future life."

"I can try," pursued the Doctor; "but I cannot promise to succeed."

"I accept your conditions," the stranger r