Only one had been bold enough to speak upon the subject personally to Dr. West, and that was the proud old baronet, Sir Rufus Hautley.  He rode down to the doctor’s house one day; and, leaving his horse with his groom, had a private interview with the doctor.  That Dr. West must have contrived to satisfy him in some way, was undoubted.  Rigidly severe and honourable, Sir Rufus would no more have countenanced wrongdoing, than he would have admitted Dr. West again to his house, whether as doctor or anything else, had he been guilty of it.  But when Sir Rufus went away, Dr. West attended him to the door, and they parted cordially, Sir Rufus saying something to the effect that he was glad his visit had dispelled the doubt arising from these unpleasing rumours, and he would recommend Dr. West to inquire into their source, with a view of bringing their authors to punishment.  Dr. West replied that he should make it his business to do so.  Dr. West, however, did nothing of the sort; or if he did do it, it was in strict privacy.

Jan sat one day astride on the counter in his frequent abiding-place, the surgery.  Jan had got a brass vessel before him, and was mixing certain powders in it, preparatory to some experiment in chemistry, Master Cheese performing the part of looker-on, his elbows, as usual, on the counter.

“I say, we had such a start here this morning,” began young Cheese, as if the recollection had suddenly occurred to him.  “It was while you had gone your round.”

“What start was that?”

“Some fellow came here, and—­I say, Jan,” broke off young Cheese, “did you ever know that room had got a second entrance to it?”

He pointed to the door of the back room—­a room which was used exclusively by Dr. West.  He had been known to see patients there on rare occasions, but neither Jan nor young Cheese was ever admitted into it.  It opened with a latch-key only.

“There is another door leading into it from the garden,” replied Jan.  “It’s never opened.  It has got all those lean-to boards piled against it.”

“Is it never opened, then?” retorted Master Cheese.  “You just hear.  A fellow came poking his nose into the premises this morning, staring up at the house, staring round about him, and at last he walks in here.  A queer-looking fellow he was, with a beard, and appeared as if he had come a thousand miles or two, on foot.  ‘Is Dr. West at home?’ he asked.  I told him the doctor was not at home; for, you see, Jan, it wasn’t ten minutes since the doctor had gone out.  So he said he’d wait.  And he went peering about and handling the bottles; and once he took the scales up, as if he’d like to test their weight.  I kept my eye on him.  I thought a queer fellow like that might be going to walk off with some physic, like Miss Amilly walks off the castor oil.  Presently he comes to that door.  ‘Where does this lead to?’ said he.  ‘A private room,’ said I, ’and please to keep your hands off it.’  Not he.  He lays hold of the false knob, and shakes it, and turns it, and pushes the door, trying to open it.  It was fast.  Old West had come out of there before going out, and catch him ever leaving that door open!  I say, Jan, one would think he kept skeletons there.”