matter,--and the initial "M" might be French or anything in the world.

In the meantime Dr Lefevre had been pondering the details of the affair,
and noting the aspects of his patient's condition; but the more he noted
and pondered, the more contorted and inexplicable did the mystery
become. His understanding boggled at its very first notes. It was almost
unheard of that a young man of his patient's strong and healthy
constitution and temper should be hypnotised or mesmerised at all, much
less hypnotised to the verge of dissolution; and it was unprecedented
that even a weak, hysterical subject should, after being unhypnotised,
remain so long in prostrate exhaustion. Then, suppose these
circumstances of the case were ordinary, there arose this question,
which refused to be solved: Since it was ridiculous to suppose that the
hypnotisation was a wanton experiment, and since it had not been for the
sake of robbery, what had been its object?

The interest of the case was emphasised and enlarged by an article in
'The Daily Telegraph,' in which was called to mind the singular story in
its Paris correspondence a day or two before, of the young woman in the
Hôtel-Dieu, which Lefevre had forgotten. The writer remarked on the
points of similarity which the case in the Brighton train bore to that
of the Paris pavement; insisted on the probable identity of the man in
the fur coat with the man in the cloak; and appealed to Dr Lefevre to
explain the mystery, and to the police to find the man "who has alarmed
the civilised world by a new form of outrage."

Lefevre was piqued by that article, and he went to see his patient day
after day, in the constant hope of finding a solution of the puzzle that
perplexed him. The direction in which he looked for light will be best
suggested by remarking what were his peculiar theory and practice.