“Fever epidemic¹ in Blankshire. Medical help urgently required. The villages specially² affected³ by the fever, are Loam⁴, Hurstleigh, Marston, Styles, and Lislehurst—all on the estate of the Marquess of St. Quentin.
“The epidemic is of a very serious nature. The Chief Sanitary⁵ Inspector⁶ of Donisbro’ visited the affected villages upon the outbreak of the illness, and declares the cottages to be in a greatly neglected condition.
“The local physician has applied⁷ for help to the staff of the London Hospitals.”

Hugh Chichester read these words in the hall of the Blue-friars Hospital, as he and another young doctor waited for a “case,” which was being brought in from the street.
“Estate of the Marquess of St. Quentin,”
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 his companion commented. “Isn’t that the chap who had that frightful⁸ motor-smash three months ago? Why, hullo! Chichester, old man! Are you off your head?”
For Hugh had flung himself into the lift without a word, and was swooping⁹ upward to the first floor, where he knew that he would find his father.
The doctor was free for the moment, but Hugh knew that he himself was not. He only paused to thrust the paper in his father’s hand, with a hoarse¹⁰ “Read that,” and was down the staircase and in the hall again, before the “case,” upon its stretcher, had crossed the wide open paved courtyard of the Blue-friars Hospital.
Dr. Chichester was quick of understanding, as doctors generally are.

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