ver. He was used to the extremely cunning ways of
gentlemen off their balance, and he had a profound belief in Simms and
Cavendish, whose names endorsed the certificate of lunacy he had
received with the newcomer. He was also a man just as cunning as Jones.

"Well," he said, with an air of absolute frankness, "this takes me by
surprise; a practical joke, but why did you play such a practical joke?"

"I know," said Jones, "it was stupid, just a piece of tom-foolery--but
you see how I am landed."

Dr. Hoover ignored this evasion whilst noting it.

Then he began to ask all sorts of little questions seemingly irrelevant
enough. Did Jones think that he was morally justified in carrying out
such a practical joke? Why did he not say at once it was a practical
joke after the affair had reached a certain point? Was his memory as
good as of old? Was he sure in his own mind that he was the Earl of
Rochester? Was he sure that as the Earl of Rochester he could hold that
title against a claim that he was not the Earl? Give details and so
forth?

"Now suppose," said Dr. Hoover, "I were to contest the title with you
and say 'you are Mr. Jones and I am the Earl of Rochester,' how would
you establish your claim. I am simply asking, to find out whether what
you consider to be a practical joke was in fact a slight lapse of memory
on your part, a slight mind disturbance such as is easily caused by
fatigue or even work, and which often leaves effects lasting some weeks
or months.

"Now I must point out to you that, as--practical joke or not--you came
here calling yourself Mr. Jones, I would be justified in asking you for
proof that you are _not_ Mr. Jones. See my point?"

"Quite."

"Well, then, prove your case," said the physician jovially.

"How can I?"

"Well, if you are the Earl of Rochester, let me test your memory. Who is
your banker?"

"Coutts."

Hoover did not know who the Earl of Rochester's banker might be, but the
promptness of the reply satisfied him of its truth, the promptness was
also an index of sanity. He passed at a venture to a subject on which he
was acquainted.

"And how many brothers and sisters have you?"

That was fatal.

Jones' eye fell under the pressure of Hoover's.

"There is no use in going on with these absurd questions," said he, "a
thing everyone knows."

"But I just want to prove to you," said Hoover, gently, "that your mind,
which in a week from now, will have quite recovered, is still