"But you can't shut a man up on your mere impressions without
documents or certificates or anything?"

The doctor got languidly to his feet. "Quite so," he said. "You
certainly ought to see the documents."

He went across to the curious mock book-shelves and took down one
of the flat mahogany cases. This he opened with a curious key at
his watch-chain, and laying back a flap revealed a quire of
foolscap covered with close but quite clear writing. The first
three words were in such large copy-book hand that they caught
the eye even at a distance. They were: "MacIan, Evan Stuart."

Evan bent his angry eagle face over it; yet something blurred it
and he could never swear he saw it distinctly. He saw something
that began: "Prenatal influences predisposing to mania.
Grandfather believed in return of the Stuarts. Mother carried
bone of St. Eulalia with which she touched children in sickness.
Marked religious mania at early age----"

Evan fell back and fought for his speech. "Oh!" he burst out at
last. "Oh! if all this world I have walked in had been as sane as
my mother was."

Then he compressed his temples with his hands, as if to crush
them. And then lifted suddenly a face that looked fresh and
young, as if he had dipped and washed it in some holy well.

"Very well," he cried; "I will take the sour with the sweet. I
will pay the penalty of having enjoyed God in this monstrous