They had sent for me from the inn when the stranger was taken ill in the afternoon, but I was not at home, and medical assistance was sought for elsewhere.

When the man from The Two Robins rang the night-bell, I was just thinking of going to bed.

Naturally enough, I did not believe a word of his story about "a dead man who had come to life again." However, I put on my hat, armed myself with one or two bottles of restorative medicine, and ran to the inn, expecting to find nothing more remarkable, when I got there, than a patient in a fit.
My surprise at finding that the man had spoken the literal truth was almost, if not quite, equaled by my astonishment at finding myself face to face with Arthur Holliday as soon as I entered the bedroom.

It was no time then for giving or seeking explanations.

We just shook hands amazedly, and then I ordered everybody but Arthur out of the room, and hurried to the man on the bed.
The kitchen fire had not been long out.