‘Father Lamb is awfully impatient,’ insisted Palmer.

‘Palmer, you have your order!’ said Hadley, and then turned to me. ‘Doctor? All is well with Mr Holmes?’

‘I need another moment,’ I replied.

‘All right. Then would you be good enough to check on Mr Buttons?’ said Hadley.

He departed, and I finished and exited the cell. Palmer shut the barred door with a loud clang and locked it securely. A quick glance at my friend showed him already at work, squirming under the straitjacket.

I wondered what Holmes’s plan could be. He might free himself, and then what? He would not get far. The station was full of men and bustling with activity.

Meanwhile, I had an urgent mission. Buttons could be suffering from shock. Another suicide attempt would not be unusual. I said as much to Palmer, who assured me the bedding had been removed from Buttons’ cell to prevent him hanging himself.

‘Yes, but shock is now the risk. Can you bring a blanket and something warm to drink?’ I said.

He nodded. ‘I’ll be right with you. He’s down that hallway there.’ He pointed me in the direction of the cell.

Echoing from the distant end of the hall and around the corner, I heard the familiar voice of Father Lamb. ‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir. I do, I fear for this young man’s soul.’ The strident voice grew fainter.

Thinking to follow, I hurried down the corridor but made a wrong turn. I saw neither Father Lamb nor Buttons’ cell. I did pass one larger cell which contained two drunken, somnolent men. What a labyrinthine place this was!

I asked directions and at last I arrived at Buttons’ cell. I peeked in through the door’s barred window. The young man lay on the hard cot, curled into a foetal position, shivering and moaning. Father Lamb was nowhere in sight. The bedding had been removed, but it left him soaking wet and chilled. He was ghastly white, shaking mightily, and I did not like the look of him. The delay in allowing me to check him was unconscionable.

I put my face near the small window into the cell. ‘Buttons!’

He looked up, saw me, and moaned. ‘Why did you save me? I want to die.’

‘Here we are, Doctor!’ It was Palmer, with blankets and a coffee.

‘Hurry!’ I said. ‘He appears to be in shock. We need to get him warm.’

We entered and I covered the shivering young man. Palmer handed me the coffee.

‘Try to drink some of this, Deacon Buttons,’ said I. ‘Father Lamb is on his way,’ although it was clear to me that the boy needed medical attention more than spiritual.

He moaned. ‘Father? No, no! He can’t see me like this.’

‘Easy now. He already saw you at the river. He was terrified for you. You were very nearly successful in killing yourself.’