There was, however, a wide difference between assuming that a portion
of the conversation had escaped a witness's memory and disbelieving all
that witness's evidence. As the counsel for the Crown had said, if he
had not, as he swore, warned me, and I had not, as he swore, refused to
listen to his warning, then Sir John Bell was a moral monster. That he,
Sir John, at the beginning of my career in Dunchester had shown some
prejudice and animus against me was indeed admitted. Doubtless, being
human, he was not pleased at the advent of a brilliant young rival, who
very shortly proceeded to prove him in the wrong in the instance of one
of his own patients, but that he had conquered this feeling, as a man of
generous impulses would naturally do, appeared to be clear from the fact
that he had volunteered to attend upon that rival's wife in her illness.

From all these facts the jury would draw what inferences seemed just
to them, but he for one found it difficult to ask them to include
among these the inference that a man who for more than a generation had
occupied a very high position among them, whose reputation, both in and
out of his profession, was great, and who had received a special mark of
favour from the Crown, was in truth an evil-minded and most malevolent
perjurer. Yet, if the statement of the accused was to be accepted, that
would appear to be the case. Of course, however, there remained the
possibility that in the confusion of a hurried interview I might have
misunderstood Sir John Bell's words, or that he might have misunderstood
mine, or, lastly, as had been suggested, that having come to the
conclusion that Sir John could not possibly form a trustworthy opinion
on the nature of my wife's symptoms without awaiting their further
development, I had determined to neglect advice, in which, as a doctor
myself, I had no confidence.