Call of His Profession

[rabidsamfan]

The Clerk of the Court had just begun to read out the charges against me when a scuffle at the back of the room drew all our attention. I turned too, and caught sight of Merridew, sitting in the seats reserved for witnesses. His face was pale and damp with sweat, and the bandages on the hand I could see were becoming stained by exudations. Had he spent his money on lawyers and not on a decent doctor? Again I felt the lack of my medical bag: the man was obviously in pain.

But there was nothing I could do.