Part 33 (1/2)

”Quite,” said Hoover, with a benign smile.

He was used to things like this, profoundly confidential communications concerning claims to crowns and princ.i.p.alities, or grumbles about food.

He did not expect what followed.

”I am not going to grumble at your having me here,” said Jones; ”it's my fault for playing practical jokes. I didn't think they'd go the length of doping me and locking me up under the name I gave them.”

”And what name was that?” asked Hoover kindly.

”Jones.”

”Oh, and now tell me, if you are not Mr. Jones, who are you?”

”Who am I? Well, I can excuse the question. I'm the Earl of Rochester.”

This was a nasty one for Hoover, but that gentleman's face shewed nothing.

”Indeed,” said he, ”then why did you call yourself Jones?”

”For a joke. I slung them a yarn and they took it in. Then they gave me a draught to compose my nerves, they thought really that I was dotty, and I drank it--you must have seen the condition I was in when I got here.”

”Hum, hum,” said Hoover. 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 t.i.tle against a claim that he was not the Earl? Give details and so forth?

”Now suppose,” said Dr. Hoover, ”I were to contest the t.i.tle 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 pa.s.sed at a venture to a subject on which he was acquainted.

”And how many brothers and sisters have you?”