entirely without attack.
Wholly unlike the case of old Mr. Bawdrey, in the affair of the
"Nine-fingered Skeleton," this could be no poison that was administered
by touch, injected into the blood through the pores of the skin; for
whatsoever Captain Bridewell touched, his son touched after him, and no
evil came of it to him. Then, too, there was no temptation of wealth to
inherit, as in old Bawdrey's case, for the little that Captain Bridewell
possessed would die with him. He had no expectations; he stood in no
one's way to an inheritance. Why, then, was he being done to death?--and
how?

A dear, kindly, lovable old fellow, with a heart as big as an ox's, a
hand ever ready to help those in need, as witness his adoption of the
mutineering mate's children, a mind as free from guile as any child's,
he ought, in the natural order of things, to have not one enemy in the
world, one acquaintance who did not wish him well; and yet----

"I must manage to get a look at that maimed hand somehow and to examine
that peculiar eruption closely," said Cleek to Bridewell, when they were
alone together. "I could get so little impression of its character on
account of the bandages and the sling. Do you think I could get to see
it some time without either?"

"Yes, certainly you can. Fordyce always dresses it in the evening. We'll
make it our business to be about then, and he'll be sure to let you see
it if you like."

"I should, indeed," said Cleek. "And by the way, I haven't seen Dr.
Fordyce yet. Isn't he about?"

"Not just at present; be in to tea, though. He's off on his rounds at
present. Makes a practice of looking after the poor for the simple
humanity of the thing. Never charges for his services. You'll like
Fordyce, he's a ripping sort."

And so indeed he seemed to be when, at tea, Cleek met him for the first
time and found him a jovial, round-faced, apple-cheeked, rollicking
little man of fifty-odd years.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Headland--very pleased indeed," he said gaily,
when young Bridewell introduced them. "Londoner, I can see, by the cut
of you, Londoner and soldier, too. No mistaking military training when a
man carries himself like that. Londoner myself once upon a time. But no
place like the country for health, and no part of the country like
Devon. Paradise, sir, Paradise. Well, Captain, and how are we to-day,
eh? Better?"

"No, I'm afraid not, doctor," replied the old seaman. "Pain's been a
little worse t