“We shouldn’t be back early enough for me to go to Kensington from the station, I suppose?”

“No; certainly not.  I find that the trains are very awkward; we should not reach King’s Cross until nearly one in the morning.”

“Then, in that case, I shall write to Miss Gibson and excuse myself.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” said Thorndyke; “it will disappoint them, and really it is not necessary.”

“I shall write forthwith,” I said firmly, “so please don’t try to dissuade me.  I have been feeling quite uncomfortable at the thought that, all the time I have been in your employ, I seem to have done nothing but idle about and amuse myself.  The opportunity of doing something tangible for my wage is too precious to be allowed to slip.”

Thorndyke chuckled indulgently.  “You shall do as you please, my dear boy,” he said; “but don’t imagine that you have been eating the bread of idleness.  When you see this Hornby case worked out in detail, you will be surprised to find how large a part you have taken in unravelling it.  Your worth to me has been far beyond your poor little salary, I can assure you.”

“It is very handsome of you to say that,” I said, highly gratified to learn that I was really of use, and not, as I had begun to suspect, a mere object of charity.

“It is perfectly true,” he answered; “and now, since you are going to help me in this case, I will set you your task.  The case, as I have said, appears to be quite simple, but it never does to take the simplicity for granted.  Here is the letter from the solicitors giving the facts as far as they are known at present.  On the shelves there you will find Casper, Taylor, Guy and Ferrier, and the other authorities on medical jurisprudence, and I will put out one or two other books that you may find useful.  I want you to extract and make classified notes of everything that may bear on such a case as the present one may turn out to be.  We must go prepared to meet any contingency that may arise.  This is my invariable practice, and even if the case turns out to be quite simple, the labour is never wasted, for it represents so much experience gained.”

“Casper and Taylor are pretty old, aren’t they?” I objected.

“So is suicide,” he retorted drily.  “It is a capital mistake to neglect the old authorities.  ‘There were strong men before Agamemnon,’ and some of them were uncommonly strong, let me tell you.  Give your best attention to the venerable Casper and the obsolete Taylor and you will not be without your reward.”

As a result of these injunctions, I devoted the remainder of the day to the consideration of the various methods by which a man might contrive to effect his exit from the stage of human activities.  And a very engrossing study I found it, and the more interesting in view of the problem that awaited solution on the morrow; but yet not so engrossing but that I was able to find time to write a long, rather intimate and minutely