"I will go and fetch him," said MacIan, calmly; "I left the poor
fellow wandering about by the nasturtium bed."

MacIan vanished, and in a few moments returned, trailing with him
his own discovery among lunatics, who was a slender man with a
fixed smile and an unfixed and rolling head. He had a goatlike
beard just long enough to be shaken in a strong wind. Turnbull
sprang to his feet and was like one who is speechless through
choking a sudden shout of laughter.

"Why, you great donkey," he shouted, in an ear-shattering
whisper, "that's not one of the patients at all. That's one of
the doctors."

Evan looked back at the leering head with the long-pointed beard
and repeated the word inquiringly: "One of the doctors?"

"Oh, you know what I mean," said Turnbull, impatiently. "The
medical authorities of the place."

Evan was still staring back curiously at the beaming and bearded
creature behind him.

"The mad doctors," said Turnbull, shortly.

"Quite so," said MacIan.

After a rather restless silence Turnbull plucked MacIan by the
elbow and pulled him aside.