The Croxley Master

The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring By Arthur Conan DoyleMR. ROBERT MONTGOMERY was seated at his desk his head upon his hands in a state of the blackest despondency. Before him was the open ledger with the long columns of Dr. Oldacre's prescriptions. At his elbow lay the wooden tray with the labels in various partitions the cork box the lumps of twisted sealing-wax while in front a rank of empty bottles waited to be filled. But his spirits were too low for work. He sat in silence with his fine shoulders bowed and his head upon his hands. Outside through the grimy surgery window over a foreground of blackened brick and slate a line of enormous chimneys like Cyclopean pillars upheld the lowering dun-coloured cloud-bank. For six days in the week they spouted smoke but to-day the furnace fires were banked for it was Sunday. Sordid and polluting gloom hung over a district blighted and blasted by the greed of man. There was nothing in the surroundings to cheer a desponding soul but it was more than his dismal environment which weighed upon the medical assistant. His trouble was deeper and more personal. The winter session was approaching. He should be back again at the University completing the last year which would give him his medical degree but alas! he had not the money with which to pay his class fees nor could he imagine how he could procure it. Sixty pounds were wanted to make his career and it might have been as many thousands for any chance there seemed to be of his obtaining it. He was roused from his black meditation by the entrance of Dr. Oldacre himself a large clean-shaven respectable man with a prim manner and an austere face. He had prospered exceedingly by the support of the local Church interest and the rule of his life was never by word or action to run a risk of offending the sentiment which had made him. His standard of respectability and of dignity was exceedingly high and he expected the same from his assistants. His appearance and words were always vaguely benevolent. A sudden impulse came over the despondent student. He would test the reality of this philanthropy. I beg your pardon Dr. Oldacre said he rising from his chair I have a great favour to ask of you. The doctor's appearance was not encouraging. His mouth suddenly tightened and his eyes fell. Yes Mr. Montgomery? You are aware sir that I need only one more session to complete my course. So you have told me.