“Thank you, I am doing very well, Mr. Juxon,” he said as the squire entered.

“Oh—­I am very glad,” answered Mr. Juxon politely.  The information was wholly voluntary as he had not asked any question concerning the detective’s comfort.

“And how is the patient?” inquired Mr. Booley.  “Do you think there is any chance of removing him this afternoon?”

“This afternoon?” repeated the squire, in some astonishment.  “The man is very ill.  It may be weeks before he can be removed.”

“Oh!” ejaculated the other.  “I was not aware of that.  I cannot possibly stay so long.  To-morrow, at the latest, he will have to go.”

“But, my dear sir,” argued Mr. Juxon, “the thing is quite impossible.  The doctor can testify to that—­”

“We are apt to be our own doctors in these cases,” said Mr. Booley, calmly.  “At all events he can be taken as far as the county gaol.”

“Upon my word, it would be murder to think of it—­a man in a brain fever, in a delirium, to be taken over jolting roads—­dear me!  It is not to be thought of!”

Mr. Booley smiled benignly, for the first time since the squire had made his acquaintance.

“You seem to forget, Mr. Juxon, that my time is very valuable,” he observed.

“Yes—­no doubt—­but the man’s life, Mr. Booley, is valuable too.”

“Hardly, I should say,” returned the detective coolly.  “But since you are so very pressing, I will ask to see the man at once.  I can soon tell you whether he will die on the road or not.  I have had considerable experience in that line.”

“You shall see him, as soon as the doctor comes,” replied the squire, shocked at the man’s indifference and hardness.

“It certainly cannot hurt him to see me, if he is still unconscious or raving,” objected Mr. Booley.

“He might have a lucid moment just when you are there—­the fright would very likely kill him.”

“That would decide the question of moving him,” answered Booley, taking his glasses from his nose, laying down the paper and rising to his feet.  “There is clearly some reason why you object to my seeing him now.  I would not like to insist, Mr. Juxon, but you must please remember that it may be my duty to do so.”

The squire was beginning to be angry; even his calm temper was not proof against the annoyance caused by Mr. Booley’s appearance at the Hall, but he wisely controlled himself and resorted to other means of persuasion.

“There is a reason, Mr. Booley; indeed there are several very good reasons.  One of them is that it might be fatal to frighten the man; another is that at this moment his wife is by his bedside.  She has entirely made up her mind that when he is recovered he must return to prison, but at present it would be most unkind to let her know that you are in the house.  The shock to her nerves would be terrible.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Booley, “if there is a lady in the case we must make some allowances, I presume.  Only, put yourself in my place, Mr. Juxon, put yourself in my place.”