It was only when he stood on the doorstep of Richard’s hotel, that his jocund mood was a little dashed by remembering that he had then to commence the duties of his office, and must fabricate a plausible story to account for what he knew nothing about—a part that the greatest of sages would find it difficult to perform. The young, however, whom sages well may envy, seldom fail in lifting their inventive faculties to the level of their spirits, and two minutes of Hippias’s angry complaints against the friend he serenely inquired for, gave Ripton his cue.
“We’re in the very street—within a stone’s-throw of the house, and he jumps like a harlequin out of my cab into another; he must be mad—that boy’s got madness in him!—and carries off all the boxes—my dinner-pills, too! and keeps away the whole of the day, though he promised to go to the doctor, and had a dozen engagements with me,” said Hippias, venting an enraged snarl to sum up his grievances.
Ripton at once told him that the doctor was not at home.
“Why, you don’t mean to say he’s been to the doctor?” Hippias cried out.
“He has called on him twice, sir,” said Ripton, expressively. “On leaving me he was going a third time. I shouldn’t wonder that’s what detains him—he’s so determined.”
By fine degrees Ripton ventured to grow circumstantial, saying that Richard’s case was urgent and required immediate medical advice; and that both he and his father were of opinion Richard should not lose an hour in obtaining it.
“He’s alarmed about himself,” said Ripton, and tapped his chest.
Hippias protested he had never heard a word from his nephew of any physical affliction.
“He was afraid of making you anxious, I think, sir.”
Algernon Feverel and Richard came in while he was hammering at the alphabet to recollect the first letter of the doctor’s name. They had met in the hall below, and were laughing heartily as they entered the room. Ripton jumped up to get the initiative.
“Have you seen the doctor?” he asked, significantly plucking at Richard’s fingers.
Richard was all abroad at the question.
Algernon clapped him on the back. “What the deuce do you want with doctor, boy?”
The solid thump awakened him to see matters as they were. “Oh, ay! the doctor!” he said, smiling frankly at his lieutenant.” Why, he tells me he’d back me to do Milo’s trick in a week from the present day.—Uncle,” he came forward to Hippias, “I hope you’ll excuse me for running off as I did. I was in a hurry. I left something at the railway. This stupid Rip thinks I went to the doctor about myself. The fact was, I wanted to fetch the doctor to see you here—so that you might have no trouble, you know. You can’t bear the sight of his instruments and skeletons—I’ve heard you say so. You said it set all your marrow in revolt—’fried your marrow,’ I think were the words, and made you see twenty thousand different ways of sliding down to the chambers of the Grim King. Don’t you remember?”