"Indeed!" I said, a trifle incredulously. "There are plenty of other
doctors if the case is an urgent one."

"She may have thought it would save time as you were actually up and
dressed," explained Eltham; "and the house is quite near to here, I
understand."

I looked at him a little blankly. Was this another effort of the
unknown jester?

"I have been fooled once," I said. "That 'phone call was a hoax--"

"But I feel certain," declared Eltham, earnestly, "that this is
genuine! The poor girl was dreadfully agitated; her master has broken
his leg and is lying helpless: number 280, Rectory Grove."

"Where is the girl?" I asked, sharply.

"She ran back directly she had given me her message."

"Was she a servant?"

"I should imagine so: French, I think. But she was so wrapped up I had
little more than a glimpse of her. I am sorry to hear that some one
has played a silly joke on you, but believe me--" he was very earnest
--"this is no jest. The poor girl could scarcely speak for sobs. She
mistook me for you, of course."

"Oh!" said I grimly, "well, I suppose I must go. Broken leg, you said?
--and my surgical bag, splints and so forth, are at home!"