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@@ -0,0 +1,8315 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Round the Red Lamp, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Round the Red Lamp + Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: February 3, 2008 [EBook #423] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROUND THE RED LAMP *** + + + + + + + + + +ROUND THE RED LAMP + +BEING FACTS AND FANCIES OF MEDICAL LIFE + +By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE + + + + +THE PREFACE. + +[Being an extract from a long and animated correspondence with a friend +in America.] + +I quite recognise the force of your objection that an invalid or a +woman in weak health would get no good from stories which attempt to +treat some features of medical life with a certain amount of realism. +If you deal with this life at all, however, and if you are anxious to +make your doctors something more than marionettes, it is quite +essential that you should paint the darker side, since it is that which +is principally presented to the surgeon or physician. He sees many +beautiful things, it is true, fortitude and heroism, love and +self-sacrifice; but they are all called forth (as our nobler qualities +are always called forth) by bitter sorrow and trial. One cannot write +of medical life and be merry over it. + +Then why write of it, you may ask? If a subject is painful why treat +it at all? I answer that it is the province of fiction to treat +painful things as well as cheerful ones. The story which wiles away a +weary hour fulfils an obviously good purpose, but not more so, I hold, +than that which helps to emphasise the graver side of life. A tale +which may startle the reader out of his usual grooves of thought, and +shocks him into seriousness, plays the part of the alterative and tonic +in medicine, bitter to the taste but bracing in the result. There are +a few stories in this little collection which might have such an +effect, and I have so far shared in your feeling that I have reserved +them from serial publication. In book-form the reader can see that +they are medical stories, and can, if he or she be so minded, avoid +them. + +Yours very truly, + +A. CONAN DOYLE. + + +P. S.--You ask about the Red Lamp. It is the usual sign of the general +practitioner in England. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + BEHIND THE TIMES + HIS FIRST OPERATION + A STRAGGLER OF '15 + THE THIRD GENERATION + A FALSE START + THE CURSE OF EVE + SWEETHEARTS + A PHYSIOLOGIST'S WIFE + THE CASE OF LADY SANNOX + A QUESTION OF DIPLOMACY + A MEDICAL DOCUMENT + LOT NO. 249 + THE LOS AMIGOS FIASCO + THE DOCTORS OF HOYLAND + THE SURGEON TALKS + + + + +ROUND THE RED LAMP. + + + + +BEHIND THE TIMES. + +My first interview with Dr. James Winter was under dramatic +circumstances. It occurred at two in the morning in the bedroom of an +old country house. I kicked him twice on the white waistcoat and +knocked off his gold spectacles, while he with the aid of a female +accomplice stifled my angry cries in a flannel petticoat and thrust me +into a warm bath. I am told that one of my parents, who happened to be +present, remarked in a whisper that there was nothing the matter with +my lungs. I cannot recall how Dr. Winter looked at the time, for I had +other things to think of, but his description of my own appearance is +far from flattering. A fluffy head, a body like a trussed goose, very +bandy legs, and feet with the soles turned inwards--those are the main +items which he can remember. + +From this time onwards the epochs of my life were the periodical +assaults which Dr. Winter made upon me. He vaccinated me; he cut me +for an abscess; he blistered me for mumps. It was a world of peace and +he the one dark cloud that threatened. But at last there came a time +of real illness--a time when I lay for months together inside my +wickerwork-basket bed, and then it was that I learned that that hard +face could relax, that those country-made creaking boots could steal +very gently to a bedside, and that that rough voice could thin into a +whisper when it spoke to a sick child. + +And now the child is himself a medical man, and yet Dr. Winter is the +same as ever. I can see no change since first I can remember him, save +that perhaps the brindled hair is a trifle whiter, and the huge +shoulders a little more bowed. He is a very tall man, though he loses +a couple of inches from his stoop. That big back of his has curved +itself over sick beds until it has set in that shape. His face is of a +walnut brown, and tells of long winter drives over bleak country roads, +with the wind and the rain in his teeth. It looks smooth at a little +distance, but as you approach him you see that it is shot with +innumerable fine wrinkles like a last year's apple. They are hardly to +be seen when he is in repose; but when he laughs his face breaks like a +starred glass, and you realise then that though he looks old, he must +be older than he looks. + + +How old that is I could never discover. I have often tried to find +out, and have struck his stream as high up as George IV and even the +Regency, but without ever getting quite to the source. His mind must +have been open to impressions very early, but it must also have closed +early, for the politics of the day have little interest for him, while +he is fiercely excited about questions which are entirely prehistoric. +He shakes his head when he speaks of the first Reform Bill and +expresses grave doubts as to its wisdom, and I have heard him, when he +was warmed by a glass of wine, say bitter things about Robert Peel and +his abandoning of the Corn Laws. The death of that statesman brought +the history of England to a definite close, and Dr. Winter refers to +everything which had happened since then as to an insignificant +anticlimax. + +But it was only when I had myself become a medical man that I was able +to appreciate how entirely he is a survival of a past generation. He +had learned his medicine under that obsolete and forgotten system by +which a youth was apprenticed to a surgeon, in the days when the study +of anatomy was often approached through a violated grave. His views +upon his own profession are even more reactionary than in politics. +Fifty years have brought him little and deprived him of less. +Vaccination was well within the teaching of his youth, though I think +he has a secret preference for inoculation. Bleeding he would practise +freely but for public opinion. Chloroform he regards as a dangerous +innovation, and he always clicks with his tongue when it is mentioned. +He has even been known to say vain things about Laennec, and to refer +to the stethoscope as "a new-fangled French toy." He carries one in +his hat out of deference to the expectations of his patients, but he is +very hard of hearing, so that it makes little difference whether he +uses it or not. + +He reads, as a duty, his weekly medical paper, so that he has a general +idea as to the advance of modern science. He always persists in +looking upon it as a huge and rather ludicrous experiment. The germ +theory of disease set him chuckling for a long time, and his favourite +joke in the sick room was to say, "Shut the door or the germs will be +getting in." As to the Darwinian theory, it struck him as being the +crowning joke of the century. "The children in the nursery and the +ancestors in the stable," he would cry, and laugh the tears out of his +eyes. + +He is so very much behind the day that occasionally, as things move +round in their usual circle, he finds himself, to his bewilderment, in +the front of the fashion. Dietetic treatment, for example, had been +much in vogue in his youth, and he has more practical knowledge of it +than any one whom I have met. Massage, too, was familiar to him when +it was new to our generation. He had been trained also at a time when +instruments were in a rudimentary state, and when men learned to trust +more to their own fingers. He has a model surgical hand, muscular in +the palm, tapering in the fingers, "with an eye at the end of each." I +shall not easily forget how Dr. Patterson and I cut Sir John Sirwell, +the County Member, and were unable to find the stone. It was a +horrible moment. Both our careers were at stake. And then it was that +Dr. Winter, whom we had asked out of courtesy to be present, introduced +into the wound a finger which seemed to our excited senses to be about +nine inches long, and hooked out the stone at the end of it. "It's +always well to bring one in your waistcoat-pocket," said he with a +chuckle, "but I suppose you youngsters are above all that." + +We made him president of our branch of the British Medical Association, +but he resigned after the first meeting. "The young men are too much +for me," he said. "I don't understand what they are talking about." +Yet his patients do very well. He has the healing touch--that magnetic +thing which defies explanation or analysis, but which is a very evident +fact none the less. His mere presence leaves the patient with more +hopefulness and vitality. The sight of disease affects him as dust +does a careful housewife. It makes him angry and impatient. "Tut, +tut, this will never do!" he cries, as he takes over a new case. He +would shoo Death out of the room as though he were an intrusive hen. +But when the intruder refuses to be dislodged, when the blood moves +more slowly and the eyes grow dimmer, then it is that Dr. Winter is of +more avail than all the drugs in his surgery. Dying folk cling to his +hand as if the presence of his bulk and vigour gives them more courage +to face the change; and that kindly, windbeaten face has been the last +earthly impression which many a sufferer has carried into the unknown. + +When Dr. Patterson and I--both of us young, energetic, and +up-to-date--settled in the district, we were most cordially received by +the old doctor, who would have been only too happy to be relieved of +some of his patients. The patients themselves, however, followed their +own inclinations--which is a reprehensible way that patients have--so +that we remained neglected, with our modern instruments and our latest +alkaloids, while he was serving out senna and calomel to all the +countryside. We both of us loved the old fellow, but at the same time, +in the privacy of our own intimate conversations, we could not help +commenting upon this deplorable lack of judgment. "It's all very well +for the poorer people," said Patterson. "But after all the educated +classes have a right to expect that their medical man will know the +difference between a mitral murmur and a bronchitic rale. It's the +judicial frame of mind, not the sympathetic, which is the essential +one." + +I thoroughly agreed with Patterson in what he said. It happened, +however, that very shortly afterwards the epidemic of influenza broke +out, and we were all worked to death. One morning I met Patterson on +my round, and found him looking rather pale and fagged out. He made +the same remark about me. I was, in fact, feeling far from well, and I +lay upon the sofa all the afternoon with a splitting headache and pains +in every joint. As evening closed in, I could no longer disguise the +fact that the scourge was upon me, and I felt that I should have +medical advice without delay. It was of Patterson, naturally, that I +thought, but somehow the idea of him had suddenly become repugnant to +me. I thought of his cold, critical attitude, of his endless +questions, of his tests and his tappings. I wanted something more +soothing--something more genial. + +"Mrs. Hudson," said I to my housekeeper, "would you kindly run along to +old Dr. Winter and tell him that I should be obliged to him if he would +step round?" + +She was back with an answer presently. "Dr. Winter will come round in +an hour or so, sir; but he has just been called in to attend Dr. +Patterson." + + + + +HIS FIRST OPERATION. + +It was the first day of the winter session, and the third year's man +was walking with the first year's man. Twelve o'clock was just booming +out from the Tron Church. + +"Let me see," said the third year's man. "You have never seen an +operation?" + +"Never." + +"Then this way, please. This is Rutherford's historic bar. A glass of +sherry, please, for this gentleman. You are rather sensitive, are you +not?" + +"My nerves are not very strong, I am afraid." + +"Hum! Another glass of sherry for this gentleman. We are going to an +operation now, you know." + +The novice squared his shoulders and made a gallant attempt to look +unconcerned. + +"Nothing very bad--eh?" + +"Well, yes--pretty bad." + +"An--an amputation?" + +"No; it's a bigger affair than that." + +"I think--I think they must be expecting me at home." + +"There's no sense in funking. If you don't go to-day, you must +to-morrow. Better get it over at once. Feel pretty fit?" + +"Oh, yes; all right!" The smile was not a success. + +"One more glass of sherry, then. Now come on or we shall be late. I +want you to be well in front." + +"Surely that is not necessary." + +"Oh, it is far better! What a drove of students! There are plenty of +new men among them. You can tell them easily enough, can't you? If +they were going down to be operated upon themselves, they could not +look whiter." + +"I don't think I should look as white." + +"Well, I was just the same myself. But the feeling soon wears off. +You see a fellow with a face like plaster, and before the week is out +he is eating his lunch in the dissecting rooms. I'll tell you all +about the case when we get to the theatre." + +The students were pouring down the sloping street which led to the +infirmary--each with his little sheaf of note-books in his hand. There +were pale, frightened lads, fresh from the high schools, and callous +old chronics, whose generation had passed on and left them. They swept +in an unbroken, tumultuous stream from the university gate to the +hospital. The figures and gait of the men were young, but there was +little youth in most of their faces. Some looked as if they ate too +little--a few as if they drank too much. Tall and short, tweed-coated +and black, round-shouldered, bespectacled, and slim, they crowded with +clatter of feet and rattle of sticks through the hospital gate. Now +and again they thickened into two lines, as the carriage of a surgeon +of the staff rolled over the cobblestones between. + +"There's going to be a crowd at Archer's," whispered the senior man +with suppressed excitement. "It is grand to see him at work. I've +seen him jab all round the aorta until it made me jumpy to watch him. +This way, and mind the whitewash." + +They passed under an archway and down a long, stone-flagged corridor, +with drab-coloured doors on either side, each marked with a number. +Some of them were ajar, and the novice glanced into them with tingling +nerves. He was reassured to catch a glimpse of cheery fires, lines of +white-counterpaned beds, and a profusion of coloured texts upon the +wall. The corridor opened upon a small hall, with a fringe of poorly +clad people seated all round upon benches. A young man, with a pair of +scissors stuck like a flower in his buttonhole and a note-book in his +hand, was passing from one to the other, whispering and writing. + +"Anything good?" asked the third year's man. + +"You should have been here yesterday," said the out-patient clerk, +glancing up. "We had a regular field day. A popliteal aneurism, a +Colles' fracture, a spina bifida, a tropical abscess, and an +elephantiasis. How's that for a single haul?" + +"I'm sorry I missed it. But they'll come again, I suppose. What's up +with the old gentleman?" + +A broken workman was sitting in the shadow, rocking himself slowly to +and fro, and groaning. A woman beside him was trying to console him, +patting his shoulder with a hand which was spotted over with curious +little white blisters. + +"It's a fine carbuncle," said the clerk, with the air of a connoisseur +who describes his orchids to one who can appreciate them. "It's on his +back and the passage is draughty, so we must not look at it, must we, +daddy? Pemphigus," he added carelessly, pointing to the woman's +disfigured hands. "Would you care to stop and take out a metacarpal?" + +"No, thank you. We are due at Archer's. Come on!" and they rejoined +the throng which was hurrying to the theatre of the famous surgeon. + +The tiers of horseshoe benches rising from the floor to the ceiling +were already packed, and the novice as he entered saw vague curving +lines of faces in front of him, and heard the deep buzz of a hundred +voices, and sounds of laughter from somewhere up above him. His +companion spied an opening on the second bench, and they both squeezed +into it. + +"This is grand!" the senior man whispered. "You'll have a rare view of +it all." + +Only a single row of heads intervened between them and the operating +table. It was of unpainted deal, plain, strong, and scrupulously +clean. A sheet of brown water-proofing covered half of it, and beneath +stood a large tin tray full of sawdust. On the further side, in front +of the window, there was a board which was strewed with glittering +instruments--forceps, tenacula, saws, canulas, and trocars. A line of +knives, with long, thin, delicate blades, lay at one side. Two young +men lounged in front of this, one threading needles, the other doing +something to a brass coffee-pot-like thing which hissed out puffs of +steam. + +"That's Peterson," whispered the senior, "the big, bald man in the +front row. He's the skin-grafting man, you know. And that's Anthony +Browne, who took a larynx out successfully last winter. And there's +Murphy, the pathologist, and Stoddart, the eye-man. You'll come to +know them all soon." + +"Who are the two men at the table?" + +"Nobody--dressers. One has charge of the instruments and the other of +the puffing Billy. It's Lister's antiseptic spray, you know, and +Archer's one of the carbolic-acid men. Hayes is the leader of the +cleanliness-and-cold-water school, and they all hate each other like +poison." + +A flutter of interest passed through the closely packed benches as a +woman in petticoat and bodice was led in by two nurses. A red woolen +shawl was draped over her head and round her neck. The face which +looked out from it was that of a woman in the prime of her years, but +drawn with suffering, and of a peculiar beeswax tint. Her head drooped +as she walked, and one of the nurses, with her arm round her waist, was +whispering consolation in her ear. She gave a quick side-glance at the +instrument table as she passed, but the nurses turned her away from it. + +"What ails her?" asked the novice. + +"Cancer of the parotid. It's the devil of a case; extends right away +back behind the carotids. There's hardly a man but Archer would dare +to follow it. Ah, here he is himself!" + +As he spoke, a small, brisk, iron-grey man came striding into the room, +rubbing his hands together as he walked. He had a clean-shaven face, +of the naval officer type, with large, bright eyes, and a firm, +straight mouth. Behind him came his big house-surgeon, with his +gleaming pince-nez, and a trail of dressers, who grouped themselves +into the corners of the room. + +"Gentlemen," cried the surgeon in a voice as hard and brisk as his +manner, "we have here an interesting case of tumour of the parotid, +originally cartilaginous but now assuming malignant characteristics, +and therefore requiring excision. On to the table, nurse! Thank you! +Chloroform, clerk! Thank you! You can take the shawl off, nurse." + +The woman lay back upon the water-proofed pillow, and her murderous +tumour lay revealed. In itself it was a pretty thing--ivory white, +with a mesh of blue veins, and curving gently from jaw to chest. But +the lean, yellow face and the stringy throat were in horrible contrast +with the plumpness and sleekness of this monstrous growth. The surgeon +placed a hand on each side of it and pressed it slowly backwards and +forwards. + +"Adherent at one place, gentlemen," he cried. "The growth involves the +carotids and jugulars, and passes behind the ramus of the jaw, whither +we must be prepared to follow it. It is impossible to say how deep our +dissection may carry us. Carbolic tray. Thank you! Dressings of +carbolic gauze, if you please! Push the chloroform, Mr. Johnson. Have +the small saw ready in case it is necessary to remove the jaw." + +The patient was moaning gently under the towel which had been placed +over her face. She tried to raise her arms and to draw up her knees, +but two dressers restrained her. The heavy air was full of the +penetrating smells of carbolic acid and of chloroform. A muffled cry +came from under the towel, and then a snatch of a song, sung in a high, +quavering, monotonous voice: + + "He says, says he, + If you fly with me + You'll be mistress of the ice-cream van. + You'll be mistress of the----" + +It mumbled off into a drone and stopped. The surgeon came across, +still rubbing his hands, and spoke to an elderly man in front of the +novice. + +"Narrow squeak for the Government," he said. + +"Oh, ten is enough." + +"They won't have ten long. They'd do better to resign before they are +driven to it." + +"Oh, I should fight it out." + +"What's the use. They can't get past the committee even if they got a +vote in the House. I was talking to----" + +"Patient's ready, sir," said the dresser. + +"Talking to McDonald--but I'll tell you about it presently." He walked +back to the patient, who was breathing in long, heavy gasps. "I +propose," said he, passing his hand over the tumour in an almost +caressing fashion, "to make a free incision over the posterior border, +and to take another forward at right angles to the lower end of it. +Might I trouble you for a medium knife, Mr. Johnson?" + +The novice, with eyes which were dilating with horror, saw the surgeon +pick up the long, gleaming knife, dip it into a tin basin, and balance +it in his fingers as an artist might his brush. Then he saw him pinch +up the skin above the tumour with his left hand. At the sight his +nerves, which had already been tried once or twice that day, gave way +utterly. His head swain round, and he felt that in another instant he +might faint. He dared not look at the patient. He dug his thumbs into +his ears lest some scream should come to haunt him, and he fixed his +eyes rigidly upon the wooden ledge in front of him. One glance, one +cry, would, he knew, break down the shred of self-possession which he +still retained. He tried to think of cricket, of green fields and +rippling water, of his sisters at home--of anything rather than of what +was going on so near him. + +And yet somehow, even with his ears stopped up, sounds seemed to +penetrate to him and to carry their own tale. He heard, or thought +that he heard, the long hissing of the carbolic engine. Then he was +conscious of some movement among the dressers. Were there groans, too, +breaking in upon him, and some other sound, some fluid sound, which was +more dreadfully suggestive still? His mind would keep building up +every step of the operation, and fancy made it more ghastly than fact +could have been. His nerves tingled and quivered. Minute by minute +the giddiness grew more marked, the numb, sickly feeling at his heart +more distressing. And then suddenly, with a groan, his head pitching +forward, and his brow cracking sharply upon the narrow wooden shelf in +front of him, he lay in a dead faint. + + +When he came to himself, he was lying in the empty theatre, with his +collar and shirt undone. The third year's man was dabbing a wet sponge +over his face, and a couple of grinning dressers were looking on. + +"All right," cried the novice, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I'm +sorry to have made an ass of myself." + +"Well, so I should think," said his companion. + +"What on earth did you faint about?" + +"I couldn't help it. It was that operation." + +"What operation?" + +"Why, that cancer." + +There was a pause, and then the three students burst out laughing. +"Why, you juggins!" cried the senior man, "there never was an operation +at all! They found the patient didn't stand the chloroform well, and +so the whole thing was off. Archer has been giving us one of his racy +lectures, and you fainted just in the middle of his favourite story." + + + + +A STRAGGLER OF '15. + +It was a dull October morning, and heavy, rolling fog-wreaths lay low +over the wet grey roofs of the Woolwich houses. Down in the long, +brick-lined streets all was sodden and greasy and cheerless. From the +high dark buildings of the arsenal came the whirr of many wheels, the +thudding of weights, and the buzz and babel of human toil. Beyond, the +dwellings of the workingmen, smoke-stained and unlovely, radiated away +in a lessening perspective of narrowing road and dwindling wall. + +There were few folk in the streets, for the toilers had all been +absorbed since break of day by the huge smoke-spouting monster, which +sucked in the manhood of the town, to belch it forth weary and +work-stained every night. Little groups of children straggled to +school, or loitered to peep through the single, front windows at the +big, gilt-edged Bibles, balanced upon small, three-legged tables, which +were their usual adornment. Stout women, with thick, red arms and +dirty aprons, stood upon the whitened doorsteps, leaning upon their +brooms, and shrieking their morning greetings across the road. One +stouter, redder, and dirtier than the rest, had gathered a small knot +of cronies around her and was talking energetically, with little shrill +titters from her audience to punctuate her remarks. + +"Old enough to know better!" she cried, in answer to an exclamation +from one of the listeners. "If he hain't no sense now, I 'specs he +won't learn much on this side o' Jordan. Why, 'ow old is he at all? +Blessed if I could ever make out." + +"Well, it ain't so hard to reckon," said a sharp-featured pale-faced +woman with watery blue eyes. "He's been at the battle o' Waterloo, and +has the pension and medal to prove it." + +"That were a ter'ble long time agone," remarked a third. "It were +afore I were born." + +"It were fifteen year after the beginnin' of the century," cried a +younger woman, who had stood leaning against the wall, with a smile of +superior knowledge upon her face. "My Bill was a-saying so last +Sabbath, when I spoke to him o' old Daddy Brewster, here." + +"And suppose he spoke truth, Missus Simpson, 'ow long agone do that +make it?" + +"It's eighty-one now," said the original speaker, checking off the +years upon her coarse red fingers, "and that were fifteen. Ten and +ten, and ten, and ten, and ten--why, it's only sixty-and-six year, so +he ain't so old after all." + +"But he weren't a newborn babe at the battle, silly!" cried the young +woman with a chuckle. "S'pose he were only twenty, then he couldn't be +less than six-and-eighty now, at the lowest." + +"Aye, he's that--every day of it," cried several. + +"I've had 'bout enough of it," remarked the large woman gloomily. +"Unless his young niece, or grandniece, or whatever she is, come +to-day, I'm off, and he can find some one else to do his work. Your +own 'ome first, says I." + +"Ain't he quiet, then, Missus Simpson?" asked the youngest of the group. + +"Listen to him now," she answered, with her hand half raised and her +head turned slantwise towards the open door. From the upper floor +there came a shuffling, sliding sound with a sharp tapping of a stick. +"There he go back and forrards, doing what he call his sentry go. 'Arf +the night through he's at that game, the silly old juggins. At six +o'clock this very mornin there he was beatin' with a stick at my door. +'Turn out, guard!' he cried, and a lot more jargon that I could make +nothing of. Then what with his coughin' and 'awkin' and spittin', +there ain't no gettin' a wink o' sleep. Hark to him now!" + +"Missus Simpson, Missus Simpson!" cried a cracked and querulous voice +from above. + +"That's him!" she cried, nodding her head with an air of triumph. "He +do go on somethin' scandalous. Yes, Mr. Brewster, sir." + +"I want my morning ration, Missus Simpson." + +"It's just ready, Mr. Brewster, sir." + +"Blessed if he ain't like a baby cryin' for its pap," said the young +woman. + +"I feel as if I could shake his old bones up sometimes!" cried Mrs. +Simpson viciously. "But who's for a 'arf of fourpenny?" + +The whole company were about to shuffle off to the public house, when a +young girl stepped across the road and touched the housekeeper timidly +upon the arm. "I think that is No. 56 Arsenal View," she said. "Can +you tell me if Mr. Brewster lives here?" + +The housekeeper looked critically at the newcomer. She was a girl of +about twenty, broad-faced and comely, with a turned-up nose and large, +honest grey eyes. Her print dress, her straw hat, with its bunch of +glaring poppies, and the bundle she carried, had all a smack of the +country. + +"You're Norah Brewster, I s'pose," said Mrs. Simpson, eyeing her up and +down with no friendly gaze. + +"Yes, I've come to look after my Granduncle Gregory." + +"And a good job too," cried the housekeeper, with a toss of her head. +"It's about time that some of his own folk took a turn at it, for I've +had enough of it. There you are, young woman! In you go and make +yourself at home. There's tea in the caddy and bacon on the dresser, +and the old man will be about you if you don't fetch him his breakfast. +I'll send for my things in the evenin'." With a nod she strolled off +with her attendant gossips in the direction of the public house. + +Thus left to her own devices, the country girl walked into the front +room and took off her hat and jacket. It was a low-roofed apartment +with a sputtering fire upon which a small brass kettle was singing +cheerily. A stained cloth lay over half the table, with an empty brown +teapot, a loaf of bread, and some coarse crockery. Norah Brewster +looked rapidly about her, and in an instant took over her new duties. +Ere five minutes had passed the tea was made, two slices of bacon were +frizzling on the pan, the table was rearranged, the antimacassars +straightened over the sombre brown furniture, and the whole room had +taken a new air of comfort and neatness. This done she looked round +curiously at the prints upon the walls. Over the fireplace, in a +small, square case, a brown medal caught her eye, hanging from a strip +of purple ribbon. Beneath was a slip of newspaper cutting. She stood +on her tiptoes, with her fingers on the edge of the mantelpiece, and +craned her neck up to see it, glancing down from time to time at the +bacon which simmered and hissed beneath her. The cutting was yellow +with age, and ran in this way: + +"On Tuesday an interesting ceremony was performed at the barracks of +the Third Regiment of Guards, when, in the presence of the Prince +Regent, Lord Hill, Lord Saltoun, and an assemblage which comprised +beauty as well as valour, a special medal was presented to Corporal +Gregory Brewster, of Captain Haldane's flank company, in recognition of +his gallantry in the recent great battle in the Lowlands. It appears +that on the ever-memorable 18th of June four companies of the Third +Guards and of the Coldstreams, under the command of Colonels Maitland +and Byng, held the important farmhouse of Hougoumont at the right of +the British position. At a critical point of the action these troops +found themselves short of powder. Seeing that Generals Foy and Jerome +Buonaparte were again massing their infantry for an attack on the +position, Colonel Byng dispatched Corporal Brewster to the rear to +hasten up the reserve ammunition. Brewster came upon two powder +tumbrils of the Nassau division, and succeeded, after menacing the +drivers with his musket, in inducing them to convey their powder to +Hougoumont. In his absence, however, the hedges surrounding the +position had been set on fire by a howitzer battery of the French, and +the passage of the carts full of powder became a most hazardous matter. +The first tumbril exploded, blowing the driver to fragments. Daunted +by the fate of his comrade, the second driver turned his horses, but +Corporal Brewster, springing upon his seat, hurled the man down, and +urging the powder cart through the flames, succeeded in forcing his way +to his companions. To this gallant deed may be directly attributed the +success of the British arms, for without powder it would have been +impossible to have held Hougoumont, and the Duke of Wellington had +repeatedly declared that had Hougoumont fallen, as well as La Haye +Sainte, he would have found it impossible to have held his ground. +Long may the heroic Brewster live to treasure the medal which he has so +bravely won, and to look back with pride to the day when, in the +presence of his comrades, he received this tribute to his valour from +the august hands of the first gentleman of the realm." + +The reading of this old cutting increased in the girl's mind the +veneration which she had always had for her warrior kinsman. From her +infancy he had been her hero, and she remembered how her father used to +speak of his courage and his strength, how he could strike down a +bullock with a blow of his fist and carry a fat sheep under either arm. +True, she had never seen him, but a rude painting at home which +depicted a square-faced, clean shaven, stalwart man with a great +bearskin cap, rose ever before her memory when she thought of him. + +She was still gazing at the brown medal and wondering what the "Dulce +et decorum est" might mean, which was inscribed upon the edge, when +there came a sudden tapping and shuffling upon the stair, and there at +the door was standing the very man who had been so often in her +thoughts. + +But could this indeed be he? Where was the martial air, the flashing +eye, the warrior face which she had pictured? There, framed in the +doorway, was a huge twisted old man, gaunt and puckered, with twitching +hands and shuffling, purposeless feet. A cloud of fluffy white hair, a +red-veined nose, two thick tufts of eyebrow and a pair of dimly +questioning, watery blue eyes--these were what met her gaze. He leaned +forward upon a stick, while his shoulders rose and fell with his +crackling, rasping breathing. + +"I want my morning rations," he crooned, as he stumped forward to his +chair. "The cold nips me without 'em. See to my fingers!" He held +out his distorted hands, all blue at the tips, wrinkled and gnarled, +with huge, projecting knuckles. + +"It's nigh ready," answered the girl, gazing at him with wonder in her +eyes. "Don't you know who I am, granduncle? I am Norah Brewster from +Witham." + +"Rum is warm," mumbled the old man, rocking to and fro in his chair, +"and schnapps is warm, and there's 'eat in soup, but it's a dish o' tea +for me. What did you say your name was?" + +"Norah Brewster." + +"You can speak out, lass. Seems to me folk's voices isn't as loud as +they used." + +"I'm Norah Brewster, uncle. I'm your grandniece come down from Essex +way to live with you." + +"You'll be brother Jarge's girl! Lor, to think o' little Jarge having +a girl!" He chuckled hoarsely to himself, and the long, stringy sinews +of his throat jerked and quivered. + +"I am the daughter of your brother George's son," said she, as she +turned the bacon. + +"Lor, but little Jarge was a rare un!" he continued. "Eh, by Jimini, +there was no chousing Jarge. He's got a bull pup o' mine that I gave +him when I took the bounty. You've heard him speak of it, likely?" + +"Why, grandpa George has been dead this twenty year," said she, pouring +out the tea. + +"Well, it was a bootiful pup--aye, a well-bred un, by Jimini! I'm cold +for lack o' my rations. Rum is good, and so is schnapps, but I'd as +lief have tea as either." + +He breathed heavily while he devoured his food. "It's a middlin' +goodish way you've come," said he at last. "Likely the stage left +yesternight." + +"The what, uncle?" + +"The coach that brought you." + +"Nay, I came by the mornin' train." + +"Lor, now, think o' that! You ain't afeard o' those newfangled things! +By Jimini, to think of you comin' by railroad like that! What's the +world a-comin' to!" + +There was silence for some minutes while Norah sat stirring her tea and +glancing sideways at the bluish lips and champing jaws of her companion. + +"You must have seen a deal o' life, uncle," said she. "It must seem a +long, long time to you!" + +"Not so very long neither. I'm ninety, come Candlemas; but it don't +seem long since I took the bounty. And that battle, it might have been +yesterday. Eh, but I get a power o' good from my rations!" He did +indeed look less worn and colourless than when she first saw him. His +face was flushed and his back more erect. + +"Have you read that?" he asked, jerking his head towards the cutting. + +"Yes, uncle, and I'm sure you must be proud of it." + +"Ah, it was a great day for me! A great day! The Regent was there, +and a fine body of a man too! 'The ridgment is proud of you,' says he. +'And I'm proud of the ridgment,' say I. 'A damned good answer too!' +says he to Lord Hill, and they both bu'st out a-laughin'. But what be +you a-peepin' out o' the window for?" + +"Oh, uncle, here's a regiment of soldiers coming down the street with +the band playing in front of them." + +"A ridgment, eh? Where be my glasses? Lor, but I can hear the band, +as plain as plain! Here's the pioneers an' the drum-major! What be +their number, lass?" His eyes were shining and his bony yellow +fingers, like the claws of some fierce old bird, dug into her shoulder. + +"They don't seem to have no number, uncle. They've something wrote on +their shoulders. Oxfordshire, I think it be." + +"Ah, yes!" he growled. "I heard as they'd dropped the numbers and +given them newfangled names. There they go, by Jimini! They're young +mostly, but they hain't forgot how to march. They have the swing-aye, +I'll say that for them. They've got the swing." He gazed after them +until the last files had turned the corner and the measured tramp of +their marching had died away in the distance. + +He had just regained his chair when the door opened and a gentleman +stepped in. + +"Ah, Mr. Brewster! Better to-day?" he asked. + +"Come in, doctor! Yes, I'm better. But there's a deal o' bubbling in +my chest. It's all them toobes. If I could but cut the phlegm, I'd be +right. Can't you give me something to cut the phlegm?" + +The doctor, a grave-faced young man, put his fingers to the furrowed, +blue-corded wrist. + +"You must be careful," he said. "You must take no liberties." The +thin tide of life seemed to thrill rather than to throb under his +finger. + +The old man chuckled. + +"I've got brother Jarge's girl to look after me now. She'll see I +don't break barracks or do what I hadn't ought to. Why, darn my skin, +I knew something was amiss! + +"With what?" + +"Why, with them soldiers. You saw them pass, doctor--eh? They'd +forgot their stocks. Not one on 'em had his stock on." He croaked and +chuckled for a long time over his discovery. "It wouldn't ha' done for +the Dook!" he muttered. "No, by Jimini! the Dook would ha' had a word +there." + +The doctor smiled. "Well, you are doing very well," said he. "I'll +look in once a week or so, and see how you are." As Norah followed him +to the door, he beckoned her outside. + +"He is very weak," he whispered. "If you find him failing you must +send for me." + +"What ails him, doctor?" + +"Ninety years ails him. His arteries are pipes of lime. His heart is +shrunken and flabby. The man is worn out." + +Norah stood watching the brisk figure of the young doctor, and +pondering over these new responsibilities which had come upon her. +When she turned a tall, brown-faced artilleryman, with the three gold +chevrons of sergeant upon his arm, was standing, carbine in hand, at +her elbow. + +"Good-morning, miss," said he, raising one thick finger to his jaunty, +yellow-banded cap. "I b'lieve there's an old gentleman lives here of +the name of Brewster, who was engaged in the battle o' Waterloo?" + +"It's my granduncle, sir," said Norah, casting down her eyes before the +keen, critical gaze of the young soldier. "He is in the front parlour." + +"Could I have a word with him, miss? I'll call again if it don't +chance to be convenient." + +"I am sure that he would be very glad to see you, sir. He's in here, +if you'll step in. Uncle, here's a gentleman who wants to speak with +you." + +"Proud to see you, sir--proud and glad, sir," cried the sergeant, +taking three steps forward into the room, and grounding his carbine +while he raised his hand, palm forwards, in a salute. Norah stood by +the door, with her mouth and eyes open, wondering if her granduncle had +ever, in his prime, looked like this magnificent creature, and whether +he, in his turn, would ever come to resemble her granduncle. + +The old man blinked up at his visitor, and shook his head slowly. "Sit +ye down, sergeant," said he, pointing with his stick to a chair. +"You're full young for the stripes. Lordy, it's easier to get three +now than one in my day. Gunners were old soldiers then and the grey +hairs came quicker than the three stripes." + +"I am eight years' service, sir," cried the sergeant. "Macdonald is my +name--Sergeant Macdonald, of H Battery, Southern Artillery Division. I +have called as the spokesman of my mates at the gunner's barracks to +say that we are proud to have you in the town, sir." + +Old Brewster chuckled and rubbed his bony hands. "That were what the +Regent said," he cried. "'The ridgment is proud of ye,' says he. 'And +I am proud of the ridgment,' says I. 'And a damned good answer too,' +says he, and he and Lord Hill bu'st out a-laughin'." + +"The non-commissioned mess would be proud and honoured to see you, +sir," said Sergeant Macdonald; "and if you could step as far you'll +always find a pipe o' baccy and a glass o' grog a-waitin' you." + +The old man laughed until he coughed. "Like to see me, would they? +The dogs!" said he. "Well, well, when the warm weather comes again +I'll maybe drop in. Too grand for a canteen, eh? Got your mess just +the same as the orficers. What's the world a-comin' to at all!" + +"You was in the line, sir, was you not?" asked the sergeant +respectfully. + +"The line?" cried the old man, with shrill scorn. "Never wore a shako +in my life. I am a guardsman, I am. Served in the Third Guards--the +same they call now the Scots Guards. Lordy, but they have all marched +away--every man of them--from old Colonel Byng down to the drummer +boys, and here am I a straggler--that's what I am, sergeant, a +straggler! I'm here when I ought to be there. But it ain't my fault +neither, for I'm ready to fall in when the word comes." + +"We've all got to muster there," answered the sergeant. "Won't you try +my baccy, sir?" handing over a sealskin pouch. + +Old Brewster drew a blackened clay pipe from his pocket, and began to +stuff the tobacco into the bowl. In an instant it slipped through his +fingers, and was broken to pieces on the floor. His lip quivered, his +nose puckered up, and he began crying with the long, helpless sobs of a +child. "I've broke my pipe," he cried. + +"Don't, uncle; oh, don't!" cried Norah, bending over him, and patting +his white head as one soothes a baby. "It don't matter. We can easy +get another." + +"Don't you fret yourself, sir," said the sergeant. "'Ere's a wooden +pipe with an amber mouth, if you'll do me the honour to accept it from +me. I'd be real glad if you will take it." + +"Jimini!" cried he, his smiles breaking in an instant through his +tears. "It's a fine pipe. See to my new pipe, Norah. I lay that +Jarge never had a pipe like that. You've got your firelock there, +sergeant?" + +"Yes, sir. I was on my way back from the butts when I looked in." + +"Let me have the feel of it. Lordy, but it seems like old times to +have one's hand on a musket. What's the manual, sergeant, eh? Cock +your firelock--look to your priming--present your firelock--eh, +sergeant? Oh, Jimini, I've broke your musket in halves!" + +"That's all right, sir," cried the gunner laughing. "You pressed on +the lever and opened the breech-piece. That's where we load 'em, you +know." + +"Load 'em at the wrong end! Well, well, to think o' that! And no +ramrod neither! I've heard tell of it, but I never believed it afore. +Ah! it won't come up to brown Bess. When there's work to be done, you +mark my word and see if they don't come back to brown Bess." + +"By the Lord, sir!" cried the sergeant hotly, "they need some change +out in South Africa now. I see by this mornin's paper that the +Government has knuckled under to these Boers. They're hot about it at +the non-com. mess, I can tell you, sir." + +"Eh--eh," croaked old Brewster. "By Jimini! it wouldn't ha' done for +the Dook; the Dook would ha' had a word to say over that." + +"Ah, that he would, sir!" cried the sergeant; "and God send us another +like him. But I've wearied you enough for one sitting. I'll look in +again, and I'll bring a comrade or two with me, if I may, for there +isn't one but would be proud to have speech with you." + +So, with another salute to the veteran and a gleam of white teeth at +Norah, the big gunner withdrew, leaving a memory of blue cloth and of +gold braid behind him. Many days had not passed, however, before he +was back again, and during all the long winter he was a frequent +visitor at Arsenal View. There came a time, at last, when it might be +doubted to which of the two occupants his visits were directed, nor was +it hard to say by which he was most anxiously awaited. He brought +others with him; and soon, through all the lines, a pilgrimage to Daddy +Brewster's came to be looked upon as the proper thing to do. Gunners +and sappers, linesmen and dragoons, came bowing and bobbing into the +little parlour, with clatter of side arms and clink of spurs, +stretching their long legs across the patchwork rug, and hunting in the +front of their tunics for the screw of tobacco or paper of snuff which +they had brought as a sign of their esteem. + +It was a deadly cold winter, with six weeks on end of snow on the +ground, and Norah had a hard task to keep the life in that time-worn +body. There were times when his mind would leave him, and when, save +an animal outcry when the hour of his meals came round, no word would +fall from him. He was a white-haired child, with all a child's +troubles and emotions. As the warm weather came once more, however, +and the green buds peeped forth again upon the trees, the blood thawed +in his veins, and he would even drag himself as far as the door to bask +in the life-giving sunshine. + +"It do hearten me up so," he said one morning, as he glowed in the hot +May sun. "It's a job to keep back the flies, though. They get +owdacious in this weather, and they do plague me cruel." + +"I'll keep them off you, uncle," said Norah. + +"Eh, but it's fine! This sunshine makes me think o' the glory to come. +You might read me a bit o' the Bible, lass. I find it wonderful +soothing." + +"What part would you like, uncle?" + +"Oh, them wars." + +"The wars?" + +"Aye, keep to the wars! Give me the Old Testament for choice. There's +more taste to it, to my mind. When parson comes he wants to get off to +something else; but it's Joshua or nothing with me. Them Israelites +was good soldiers--good growed soldiers, all of 'em." + +"But, uncle," pleaded Norah, "it's all peace in the next world." + +"No, it ain't, gal." + +"Oh, yes, uncle, surely!" + +The old corporal knocked his stick irritably upon the ground. "I tell +ye it ain't, gal. I asked parson." + +"Well, what did he say?" + +"He said there was to be a last fight. He even gave it a name, he did. +The battle of Arm--Arm----" + +"Armageddon." + +"Aye, that's the name parson said. I 'specs the Third Guards'll be +there. And the Dook--the Dook'll have a word to say." + +An elderly, grey-whiskered gentleman had been walking down the street, +glancing up at the numbers of the houses. Now as his eyes fell upon +the old man, he came straight for him. + +"Hullo!" said he; "perhaps you are Gregory Brewster?" + +"My name, sir," answered the veteran. + +"You are the same Brewster, as I understand, who is on the roll of the +Scots Guards as having been present at the battle of Waterloo?" + +"I am that man, sir, though we called it the Third Guards in those +days. It was a fine ridgment, and they only need me to make up a full +muster." + +"Tut, tut! they'll have to wait years for that," said the gentleman +heartily. "But I am the colonel of the Scots Guards, and I thought I +would like to have a word with you." + +Old Gregory Brewster was up in an instant, with his hand to his +rabbit-skin cap. "God bless me!" he cried, "to think of it! to think +of it!" + +"Hadn't the gentleman better come in?" suggested the practical Norah +from behind the door. + +"Surely, sir, surely; walk in, sir, if I may be so bold." In his +excitement he had forgotten his stick, and as he led the way into the +parlour his knees tottered, and he threw out his hands. In an instant +the colonel had caught him on one side and Norah on the other. + +"Easy and steady," said the colonel, as he led him to his armchair. + +"Thank ye, sir; I was near gone that time. But, Lordy I why, I can +scarce believe it. To think of me the corporal of the flank company +and you the colonel of the battalion! How things come round, to be +sure!" + +"Why, we are very proud of you in London," said the colonel. "And so +you are actually one of the men who held Hougoumont." He looked at the +bony, trembling hands, with their huge, knotted knuckles, the stringy +throat, and the heaving, rounded shoulders. Could this, indeed, be the +last of that band of heroes? Then he glanced at the half-filled +phials, the blue liniment bottles, the long-spouted kettle, and the +sordid details of the sick room. "Better, surely, had he died under +the blazing rafters of the Belgian farmhouse," thought the colonel. + +"I hope that you are pretty comfortable and happy," he remarked after a +pause. + +"Thank ye, sir. I have a good deal o' trouble with my toobes--a deal +o' trouble. You wouldn't think the job it is to cut the phlegm. And I +need my rations. I gets cold without 'em. And the flies! I ain't +strong enough to fight against them." + +"How's the memory?" asked the colonel. + +"Oh, there ain't nothing amiss there. Why, sir, I could give you the +name of every man in Captain Haldane's flank company." + +"And the battle--you remember it?" + +"Why, I sees it all afore me every time I shuts my eyes. Lordy, sir, +you wouldn't hardly believe how clear it is to me. There's our line +from the paregoric bottle right along to the snuff box. D'ye see? +Well, then, the pill box is for Hougoumont on the right--where we +was--and Norah's thimble for La Haye Sainte. There it is, all right, +sir; and here were our guns, and here behind the reserves and the +Belgians. Ach, them Belgians!" He spat furiously into the fire. +"Then here's the French, where my pipe lies; and over here, where I put +my baccy pouch, was the Proosians a-comin' up on our left flank. +Jimini, but it was a glad sight to see the smoke of their guns!" + +"And what was it that struck you most now in connection with the whole +affair?" asked the colonel. + +"I lost three half-crowns over it, I did," crooned old Brewster. "I +shouldn't wonder if I was never to get that money now. I lent 'em to +Jabez Smith, my rear rank man, in Brussels. 'Only till pay-day, Grig,' +says he. By Gosh! he was stuck by a lancer at Quatre Bras, and me with +not so much as a slip o' paper to prove the debt! Them three +half-crowns is as good as lost to me." + +The colonel rose from his chair laughing. "The officers of the Guards +want you to buy yourself some little trifle which may add to your +comfort," he said. "It is not from me, so you need not thank me." He +took up the old man's tobacco pouch and slipped a crisp banknote inside +it. + +"Thank ye kindly, sir. But there's one favour that I would like to ask +you, colonel." + +"Yes, my man." + +"If I'm called, colonel, you won't grudge me a flag and a firing party? +I'm not a civilian; I'm a guardsman--I'm the last of the old Third +Guards." + +"All right, my man, I'll see to it," said the colonel. "Good-bye; I +hope to have nothing but good news from you." + +"A kind gentleman, Norah," croaked old Brewster, as they saw him walk +past the window; "but, Lordy, he ain't fit to hold the stirrup o' my +Colonel Byng!" + +It was on the very next day that the old corporal took a sudden change +for the worse. Even the golden sunlight streaming through the window +seemed unable to warm that withered frame. The doctor came and shook +his head in silence. All day the man lay with only his puffing blue +lips and the twitching of his scraggy neck to show that he still held +the breath of life. Norah and Sergeant Macdonald had sat by him in the +afternoon, but he had shown no consciousness of their presence. He lay +peacefully, his eyes half closed, his hands under his cheek, as one who +is very weary. + +They had left him for an instant and were sitting in the front room, +where Norah was preparing tea, when of a sudden they heard a shout that +rang through the house. Loud and clear and swelling, it pealed in +their ears--a voice full of strength and energy and fiery passion. +"The Guards need powder!" it cried; and yet again, "The Guards need +powder!" + +The sergeant sprang from his chair and rushed in, followed by the +trembling Norah. There was the old man standing up, his blue eyes +sparkling, his white hair bristling, his whole figure towering and +expanding, with eagle head and glance of fire. "The Guards need +powder!" he thundered once again, "and, by God, they shall have it!" He +threw up his long arms, and sank back with a groan into his chair. The +sergeant stooped over him, and his face darkened. + +"Oh, Archie, Archie," sobbed the frightened girl, "what do you think of +him?" + +The sergeant turned away. "I think," said he, "that the Third Guards +have a full muster now." + + + + +THE THIRD GENERATION. + +Scudamore Lane, sloping down riverwards from just behind the Monument, +lies at night in the shadow of two black and monstrous walls which loom +high above the glimmer of the scattered gas lamps. The footpaths are +narrow, and the causeway is paved with rounded cobblestones, so that +the endless drays roar along it like breaking waves. A few +old-fashioned houses lie scattered among the business premises, and in +one of these, half-way down on the left-hand side, Dr. Horace Selby +conducts his large practice. It is a singular street for so big a man; +but a specialist who has an European reputation can afford to live +where he likes. In his particular branch, too, patients do not always +regard seclusion as a disadvantage. + +It was only ten o'clock. The dull roar of the traffic which converged +all day upon London Bridge had died away now to a mere confused murmur. +It was raining heavily, and the gas shone dimly through the streaked +and dripping glass, throwing little circles upon the glistening +cobblestones. The air was full of the sounds of the rain, the thin +swish of its fall, the heavier drip from the eaves, and the swirl and +gurgle down the two steep gutters and through the sewer grating. There +was only one figure in the whole length of Scudamore Lane. It was that +of a man, and it stood outside the door of Dr. Horace Selby. + +He had just rung and was waiting for an answer. The fanlight beat full +upon the gleaming shoulders of his waterproof and upon his upturned +features. It was a wan, sensitive, clear-cut face, with some subtle, +nameless peculiarity in its expression, something of the startled horse +in the white-rimmed eye, something too of the helpless child in the +drawn cheek and the weakening of the lower lip. The man-servant knew +the stranger as a patient at a bare glance at those frightened eyes. +Such a look had been seen at that door many times before. + +"Is the doctor in?" + +The man hesitated. + +"He has had a few friends to dinner, sir. He does not like to be +disturbed outside his usual hours, sir." + +"Tell him that I MUST see him. Tell him that it is of the very first +importance. Here is my card." He fumbled with his trembling fingers +in trying to draw one from his case. "Sir Francis Norton is the name. +Tell him that Sir Francis Norton, of Deane Park, must see him without +delay." + +"Yes, sir." The butler closed his fingers upon the card and the +half-sovereign which accompanied it. "Better hang your coat up here in +the hall. It is very wet. Now if you will wait here in the +consulting-room, I have no doubt that I shall be able to send the +doctor in to you." + +It was a large and lofty room in which the young baronet found himself. +The carpet was so soft and thick that his feet made no sound as he +walked across it. The two gas jets were turned only half-way up, and +the dim light with the faint aromatic smell which filled the air had a +vaguely religious suggestion. He sat down in a shining leather +armchair by the smouldering fire and looked gloomily about him. Two +sides of the room were taken up with books, fat and sombre, with broad +gold lettering upon their backs. Beside him was the high, +old-fashioned mantelpiece of white marble--the top of it strewed with +cotton wadding and bandages, graduated measures, and little bottles. +There was one with a broad neck just above him containing bluestone, +and another narrower one with what looked like the ruins of a broken +pipestem and "Caustic" outside upon a red label. Thermometers, +hypodermic syringes bistouries and spatulas were scattered about both +on the mantelpiece and on the central table on either side of the +sloping desk. On the same table, to the right, stood copies of the +five books which Dr. Horace Selby had written upon the subject with +which his name is peculiarly associated, while on the left, on the top +of a red medical directory, lay a huge glass model of a human eye the +size of a turnip, which opened down the centre to expose the lens and +double chamber within. + +Sir Francis Norton had never been remarkable for his powers of +observation, and yet he found himself watching these trifles with the +keenest attention. Even the corrosion of the cork of an acid bottle +caught his eye, and he wondered that the doctor did not use glass +stoppers. Tiny scratches where the light glinted off from the table, +little stains upon the leather of the desk, chemical formulae scribbled +upon the labels of the phials--nothing was too slight to arrest his +attention. And his sense of hearing was equally alert. The heavy +ticking of the solemn black clock above the mantelpiece struck quite +painfully upon his ears. Yet in spite of it, and in spite also of the +thick, old-fashioned wooden partition, he could hear voices of men +talking in the next room, and could even catch scraps of their +conversation. "Second hand was bound to take it." "Why, you drew the +last of them yourself!" + +"How could I play the queen when I knew that the ace was against me?" +The phrases came in little spurts falling back into the dull murmur of +conversation. And then suddenly he heard the creaking of a door and a +step in the hall, and knew with a tingling mixture of impatience and +horror that the crisis of his life was at hand. + +Dr. Horace Selby was a large, portly man with an imposing presence. +His nose and chin were bold and pronounced, yet his features were +puffy, a combination which would blend more freely with the wig and +cravat of the early Georges than with the close-cropped hair and black +frock-coat of the end of the nineteenth century. He was clean shaven, +for his mouth was too good to cover--large, flexible, and sensitive, +with a kindly human softening at either corner which with his brown +sympathetic eyes had drawn out many a shame-struck sinner's secret. +Two masterful little bushy side-whiskers bristled out from under his +ears spindling away upwards to merge in the thick curves of his +brindled hair. To his patients there was something reassuring in the +mere bulk and dignity of the man. A high and easy bearing in medicine +as in war bears with it a hint of victories in the past, and a promise +of others to come. Dr. Horace Selby's face was a consolation, and so +too were the large, white, soothing hands, one of which he held out to +his visitor. + +"I am sorry to have kept you waiting. It is a conflict of duties, you +perceive--a host's to his guests and an adviser's to his patient. But +now I am entirely at your disposal, Sir Francis. But dear me, you are +very cold." + +"Yes, I am cold." + +"And you are trembling all over. Tut, tut, this will never do! This +miserable night has chilled you. Perhaps some little stimulant----" + +"No, thank you. I would really rather not. And it is not the night +which has chilled me. I am frightened, doctor." + +The doctor half-turned in his chair, and he patted the arch of the +young man's knee, as he might the neck of a restless horse. + +"What then?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the pale face with +the startled eyes. + +Twice the young man parted his lips. Then he stooped with a sudden +gesture, and turning up the right leg of his trousers he pulled down +his sock and thrust forward his shin. The doctor made a clicking noise +with his tongue as he glanced at it. + +"Both legs?" + +"No, only one." + +"Suddenly?" + +"This morning." + +"Hum." + +The doctor pouted his lips, and drew his finger and thumb down the line +of his chin. "Can you account for it?" he asked briskly. + +"No." + +A trace of sternness came into the large brown eyes. + +"I need not point out to you that unless the most absolute +frankness----" + +The patient sprang from his chair. "So help me God!" he cried, "I have +nothing in my life with which to reproach myself. Do you think that I +would be such a fool as to come here and tell you lies. Once for all, +I have nothing to regret." He was a pitiful, half-tragic and +half-grotesque figure, as he stood with one trouser leg rolled to the +knee, and that ever present horror still lurking in his eyes. A burst +of merriment came from the card-players in the next room, and the two +looked at each other in silence. + +"Sit down," said the doctor abruptly, "your assurance is quite +sufficient." He stooped and ran his finger down the line of the young +man's shin, raising it at one point. "Hum, serpiginous," he murmured, +shaking his head. "Any other symptoms?" + +"My eyes have been a little weak." + +"Let me see your teeth." He glanced at them, and again made the +gentle, clicking sound of sympathy and disapprobation. + +"Now your eye." He lit a lamp at the patient's elbow, and holding a +small crystal lens to concentrate the light, he threw it obliquely upon +the patient's eye. As he did so a glow of pleasure came over his large +expressive face, a flush of such enthusiasm as the botanist feels when +he packs the rare plant into his tin knapsack, or the astronomer when +the long-sought comet first swims into the field of his telescope. + +"This is very typical--very typical indeed," he murmured, turning to +his desk and jotting down a few memoranda upon a sheet of paper. +"Curiously enough, I am writing a monograph upon the subject. It is +singular that you should have been able to furnish so well-marked a +case." He had so forgotten the patient in his symptom, that he had +assumed an almost congratulatory air towards its possessor. He +reverted to human sympathy again, as his patient asked for particulars. + +"My dear sir, there is no occasion for us to go into strictly +professional details together," said he soothingly. "If, for example, +I were to say that you have interstitial keratitis, how would you be +the wiser? There are indications of a strumous diathesis. In broad +terms, I may say that you have a constitutional and hereditary taint." + +The young baronet sank back in his chair, and his chin fell forwards +upon his chest. The doctor sprang to a side-table and poured out half +a glass of liqueur brandy which he held to his patient's lips. A +little fleck of colour came into his cheeks as he drank it down. + +"Perhaps I spoke a little abruptly," said the doctor, "but you must +have known the nature of your complaint. Why, otherwise, should you +have come to me?" + +"God help me, I suspected it; but only today when my leg grew bad. My +father had a leg like this." + +"It was from him, then----?" + +"No, from my grandfather. You have heard of Sir Rupert Norton, the +great Corinthian?" + +The doctor was a man of wide reading with a retentive, memory. The +name brought back instantly to him the remembrance of the sinister +reputation of its owner--a notorious buck of the thirties--who had +gambled and duelled and steeped himself in drink and debauchery, until +even the vile set with whom he consorted had shrunk away from him in +horror, and left him to a sinister old age with the barmaid wife whom +he had married in some drunken frolic. As he looked at the young man +still leaning back in the leather chair, there seemed for the instant +to flicker up behind him some vague presentiment of that foul old dandy +with his dangling seals, many-wreathed scarf, and dark satyric face. +What was he now? An armful of bones in a mouldy box. But his deeds-- +they were living and rotting the blood in the veins of an innocent man. + +"I see that you have heard of him," said the young baronet. "He died +horribly, I have been told; but not more horribly than he had lived. +My father was his only son. He was a studious man, fond of books and +canaries and the country; but his innocent life did not save him." + +"His symptoms were cutaneous, I understand." + +"He wore gloves in the house. That was the first thing I can remember. +And then it was his throat. And then his legs. He used to ask me so +often about my own health, and I thought him so fussy, for how could I +tell what the meaning of it was. He was always watching me--always +with a sidelong eye fixed upon me. Now, at last, I know what he was +watching for." + +"Had you brothers or sisters?" + +"None, thank God." + +"Well, well, it is a sad case, and very typical of many which come in +my way. You are no lonely sufferer, Sir Francis. There are many +thousands who bear the same cross as you do." + +"But where is the justice of it, doctor?" cried the young man, +springing from his chair and pacing up and down the consulting-room. +"If I were heir to my grandfather's sins as well as to their results, I +could understand it, but I am of my father's type. I love all that is +gentle and beautiful--music and poetry and art. The coarse and animal +is abhorrent to me. Ask any of my friends and they would tell you +that. And now that this vile, loathsome thing--ach, I am polluted to +the marrow, soaked in abomination! And why? Haven't I a right to ask +why? Did I do it? Was it my fault? Could I help being born? And +look at me now, blighted and blasted, just as life was at its sweetest. +Talk about the sins of the father--how about the sins of the Creator?" +He shook his two clinched hands in the air--the poor impotent atom with +his pin-point of brain caught in the whirl of the infinite. + +The doctor rose and placing his hands upon his shoulders he pressed him +back into his chair once more. "There, there, my dear lad," said he; +"you must not excite yourself. You are trembling all over. Your +nerves cannot stand it. We must take these great questions upon trust. +What are we, after all? Half-evolved creatures in a transition stage, +nearer perhaps to the Medusa on the one side than to perfected humanity +on the other. With half a complete brain we can't expect to understand +the whole of a complete fact, can we, now? It is all very dim and +dark, no doubt; but I think that Pope's famous couplet sums up the +whole matter, and from my heart, after fifty years of varied +experience, I can say----" + +But the young baronet gave a cry of impatience and disgust. "Words, +words, words! You can sit comfortably there in your chair and say +them--and think them too, no doubt. You've had your life, but I've +never had mine. You've healthy blood in your veins; mine is putrid. +And yet I am as innocent as you. What would words do for you if you +were in this chair and I in that? Ah, it's such a mockery and a +make-believe! Don't think me rude, though, doctor. I don't mean to be +that. I only say that it is impossible for you or any other man to +realise it. But I've a question to ask you, doctor. It's one on which +my whole life must depend." He writhed his fingers together in an +agony of apprehension. + +"Speak out, my dear sir. I have every sympathy with you." + +"Do you think--do you think the poison has spent itself on me? Do you +think that if I had children they would suffer?" + +"I can only give one answer to that. 'The third and fourth +generation,' says the trite old text. You may in time eliminate it +from your system, but many years must pass before you can think of +marriage." + +"I am to be married on Tuesday," whispered the patient. + +It was the doctor's turn to be thrilled with horror. There were not +many situations which would yield such a sensation to his seasoned +nerves. He sat in silence while the babble of the card-table broke in +upon them again. "We had a double ruff if you had returned a heart." +"I was bound to clear the trumps." They were hot and angry about it. + +"How could you?" cried the doctor severely. "It was criminal." + +"You forget that I have only learned how I stand to-day." He put his +two hands to his temples and pressed them convulsively. "You are a man +of the world, Dr. Selby. You have seen or heard of such things before. +Give me some advice. I'm in your hands. It is all very sudden and +horrible, and I don't think I am strong enough to bear it." + +The doctor's heavy brows thickened into two straight lines, and he bit +his nails in perplexity. + +"The marriage must not take place." + +"Then what am I to do?" + +"At all costs it must not take place." + +"And I must give her up?" + +"There can be no question about that." + +The young man took out a pocketbook and drew from it a small +photograph, holding it out towards the doctor. The firm face softened +as he looked at it. + +"It is very hard on you, no doubt. I can appreciate it more now that I +have seen that. But there is no alternative at all. You must give up +all thought of it." + +"But this is madness, doctor--madness, I tell you. No, I won't raise +my voice. I forgot myself. But realise it, man. I am to be married +on Tuesday. This coming Tuesday, you understand. And all the world +knows it. How can I put such a public affront upon her. It would be +monstrous." + +"None the less it must be done. My dear lad, there is no way out of +it." + +"You would have me simply write brutally and break the engagement at +the last moment without a reason. I tell you I couldn't do it." + +"I had a patient once who found himself in a somewhat similar situation +some years ago," said the doctor thoughtfully. "His device was a +singular one. He deliberately committed a penal offence, and so +compelled the young lady's people to withdraw their consent to the +marriage." + +The young baronet shook his head. "My personal honour is as yet +unstained," said he. "I have little else left, but that, at least, I +will preserve." + +"Well, well, it is a nice dilemma, and the choice lies with you." + +"Have you no other suggestion?" + +"You don't happen to have property in Australia?" + +"None." + +"But you have capital?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you could buy some. To-morrow morning would do. A thousand +mining shares would be enough. Then you might write to say that urgent +business affairs have compelled you to start at an hour's notice to +inspect your property. That would give you six months, at any rate." + +"Well, that would be possible. Yes, certainly, it would be possible. +But think of her position. The house full of wedding presents--guests +coming from a distance. It is awful. And you say that there is no +alternative." + +The doctor shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well, then, I might write it now, and start to-morrow--eh? Perhaps +you would let me use your desk. Thank you. I am so sorry to keep you +from your guests so long. But I won't be a moment now." + +He wrote an abrupt note of a few lines. Then with a sudden impulse he +tore it to shreds and flung it into the fireplace. + +"No, I can't sit down and tell her a lie, doctor," he said rising. "We +must find some other way out of this. I will think it over and let you +know my decision. You must allow me to double your fee as I have taken +such an unconscionable time. Now good-bye, and thank you a thousand +times for your sympathy and advice." + +"Why, dear me, you haven't even got your prescription yet. This is the +mixture, and I should recommend one of these powders every morning, and +the chemist will put all directions upon the ointment box. You are +placed in a cruel situation, but I trust that these may be but passing +clouds. When may I hope to hear from you again?" + +"To-morrow morning." + +"Very good. How the rain is splashing in the street! You have your +waterproof there. You will need it. Good-bye, then, until to-morrow." + +He opened the door. A gust of cold, damp air swept into the hall. And +yet the doctor stood for a minute or more watching the lonely figure +which passed slowly through the yellow splotches of the gas lamps, and +into the broad bars of darkness between. It was but his own shadow +which trailed up the wall as he passed the lights, and yet it looked to +the doctor's eye as though some huge and sombre figure walked by a +manikin's side and led him silently up the lonely street. + +Dr. Horace Selby heard again of his patient next morning, and rather +earlier than he had expected. A paragraph in the Daily News caused him +to push away his breakfast untasted, and turned him sick and faint +while he read it. "A Deplorable Accident," it was headed, and it ran +in this way: + +"A fatal accident of a peculiarly painful character is reported from +King William Street. About eleven o'clock last night a young man was +observed while endeavouring to get out of the way of a hansom to slip +and fall under the wheels of a heavy, two-horse dray. On being picked +up his injuries were found to be of the most shocking character, and he +expired while being conveyed to the hospital. An examination of his +pocketbook and cardcase shows beyond any question that the deceased is +none other than Sir Francis Norton, of Deane Park, who has only within +the last year come into the baronetcy. The accident is made the more +deplorable as the deceased, who was only just of age, was on the eve of +being married to a young lady belonging to one of the oldest families +in the South. With his wealth and his talents the ball of fortune was +at his feet, and his many friends will be deeply grieved to know that +his promising career has been cut short in so sudden and tragic a +fashion." + + + + +A FALSE START. + +"Is Dr. Horace Wilkinson at home?" + +"I am he. Pray step in." + +The visitor looked somewhat astonished at having the door opened to him +by the master of the house. + +"I wanted to have a few words." + +The doctor, a pale, nervous young man, dressed in an +ultra-professional, long black frock-coat, with a high, white collar +cutting off his dapper side-whiskers in the centre, rubbed his hands +together and smiled. In the thick, burly man in front of him he +scented a patient, and it would be his first. His scanty resources had +begun to run somewhat low, and, although he had his first quarter's +rent safely locked away in the right-hand drawer of his desk, it was +becoming a question with him how he should meet the current expenses of +his very simple housekeeping. He bowed, therefore, waved his visitor +in, closed the hall door in a careless fashion, as though his own +presence thereat had been a purely accidental circumstance, and finally +led the burly stranger into his scantily furnished front room, where he +motioned him to a seat. Dr. Wilkinson planted himself behind his desk, +and, placing his finger-tips together, he gazed with some apprehension +at his companion. What was the matter with the man? He seemed very +red in the face. Some of his old professors would have diagnosed his +case by now, and would have electrified the patient by describing his +own symptoms before he had said a word about them. Dr. Horace +Wilkinson racked his brains for some clue, but Nature had fashioned him +as a plodder--a very reliable plodder and nothing more. He could think +of nothing save that the visitor's watch-chain had a very brassy +appearance, with a corollary to the effect that he would be lucky if he +got half-a-crown out of him. Still, even half-a-crown was something in +those early days of struggle. + +Whilst the doctor had been running his eyes over the stranger, the +latter had been plunging his hands into pocket after pocket of his +heavy coat. The heat of the weather, his dress, and this exercise of +pocket-rummaging had all combined to still further redden his face, +which had changed from brick to beet, with a gloss of moisture on his +brow. This extreme ruddiness brought a clue at last to the observant +doctor. Surely it was not to be attained without alcohol. In alcohol +lay the secret of this man's trouble. Some little delicacy was needed, +however, in showing him that he had read his case aright--that at a +glance he had penetrated to the inmost sources of his ailments. + +"It's very hot," observed the stranger, mopping his forehead. + +"Yes, it is weather which tempts one to drink rather more beer than is +good for one," answered Dr. Horace Wilkinson, looking very knowingly at +his companion from over his finger-tips. + +"Dear, dear, you shouldn't do that." + +"I! I never touch beer." + +"Neither do I. I've been an abstainer for twenty years." + +This was depressing. Dr. Wilkinson blushed until he was nearly as red +as the other. "May I ask what I can do for you?" he asked, picking up +his stethoscope and tapping it gently against his thumb-nail. + +"Yes, I was just going to tell you. I heard of your coming, but I +couldn't get round before----" He broke into a nervous little cough. + +"Yes?" said the doctor encouragingly. + +"I should have been here three weeks ago, but you know how these things +get put off." He coughed again behind his large red hand. + +"I do not think that you need say anything more," said the doctor, +taking over the case with an easy air of command. "Your cough is quite +sufficient. It is entirely bronchial by the sound. No doubt the +mischief is circumscribed at present, but there is always the danger +that it may spread, so you have done wisely to come to me. A little +judicious treatment will soon set you right. Your waistcoat, please, +but not your shirt. Puff out your chest and say ninety-nine in a deep +voice." + +The red-faced man began to laugh. "It's all right, doctor," said he. +"That cough comes from chewing tobacco, and I know it's a very bad +habit. Nine-and-ninepence is what I have to say to you, for I'm the +officer of the gas company, and they have a claim against you for that +on the metre." + +Dr. Horace Wilkinson collapsed into his chair. "Then you're not a +patient?" he gasped. + +"Never needed a doctor in my life, sir." + +"Oh, that's all right." The doctor concealed his disappointment under +an affectation of facetiousness. "You don't look as if you troubled +them much. I don't know what we should do if every one were as robust. +I shall call at the company's offices and pay this small amount." + +"If you could make it convenient, sir, now that I am here, it would +save trouble----" + +"Oh, certainly!" These eternal little sordid money troubles were more +trying to the doctor than plain living or scanty food. He took out his +purse and slid the contents on to the table. There were two +half-crowns and some pennies. In his drawer he had ten golden +sovereigns. But those were his rent. If he once broke in upon them he +was lost. He would starve first. + +"Dear me!" said he, with a smile, as at some strange, unheard-of +incident. "I have run short of small change. I am afraid I shall have +to call upon the company, after all." + +"Very well, sir." The inspector rose, and with a practised glance +around, which valued every article in the room, from the two-guinea +carpet to the eight-shilling muslin curtains, he took his departure. + +When he had gone Dr. Wilkinson rearranged his room, as was his habit a +dozen times in the day. He laid out his large Quain's Dictionary of +Medicine in the forefront of the table so as to impress the casual +patient that he had ever the best authorities at his elbow. Then he +cleared all the little instruments out of his pocket-case--the +scissors, the forceps, the bistouries, the lancets--and he laid them +all out beside the stethoscope, to make as good a show as possible. +His ledger, day-book, and visiting-book were spread in front of him. +There was no entry in any of them yet, but it would not look well to +have the covers too glossy and new, so he rubbed them together and +daubed ink over them. Neither would it be well that any patient should +observe that his name was the first in the book, so he filled up the +first page of each with notes of imaginary visits paid to nameless +patients during the last three weeks. Having done all this, he rested +his head upon his hands and relapsed into the terrible occupation of +waiting. + +Terrible enough at any time to the young professional man, but most of +all to one who knows that the weeks, and even the days during which he +can hold out are numbered. Economise as he would, the money would +still slip away in the countless little claims which a man never +understands until he lives under a rooftree of his own. Dr. Wilkinson +could not deny, as he sat at his desk and looked at the little heap of +silver and coppers, that his chances of being a successful practitioner +in Sutton were rapidly vanishing away. + +And yet it was a bustling, prosperous town, with so much money in it +that it seemed strange that a man with a trained brain and dexterous +fingers should be starved out of it for want of employment. At his +desk, Dr. Horace Wilkinson could see the never-ending double current of +people which ebbed and flowed in front of his window. It was a busy +street, and the air was forever filled with the dull roar of life, the +grinding of the wheels, and the patter of countless feet. Men, women, +and children, thousands and thousands of them passed in the day, and +yet each was hurrying on upon his own business, scarce glancing at the +small brass plate, or wasting a thought upon the man who waited in the +front room. And yet how many of them would obviously, glaringly have +been the better for his professional assistance. Dyspeptic men, anemic +women, blotched faces, bilious complexions--they flowed past him, they +needing him, he needing them, and yet the remorseless bar of +professional etiquette kept them forever apart. What could he do? +Could he stand at his own front door, pluck the casual stranger by the +sleeve, and whisper in his ear, "Sir, you will forgive me for remarking +that you are suffering from a severe attack of acne rosacea, which +makes you a peculiarly unpleasant object. Allow me to suggest that a +small prescription containing arsenic, which will not cost you more +than you often spend upon a single meal, will be very much to your +advantage." Such an address would be a degradation to the high and +lofty profession of Medicine, and there are no such sticklers for the +ethics of that profession as some to whom she has been but a bitter and +a grudging mother. + +Dr. Horace Wilkinson was still looking moodily out of the window, when +there came a sharp clang at the bell. Often it had rung, and with +every ring his hopes had sprung up, only to dwindle away again, and +change to leaden disappointment, as he faced some beggar or touting +tradesman. But the doctor's spirit was young and elastic, and again, +in spite of all experience, it responded to that exhilarating summons. +He sprang to his feet, cast his eyes over the table, thrust out his +medical books a little more prominently, and hurried to the door. A +groan escaped him as he entered the hall. He could see through the +half-glazed upper panels that a gypsy van, hung round with wicker +tables and chairs, had halted before his door, and that a couple of the +vagrants, with a baby, were waiting outside. He had learned by +experience that it was better not even to parley with such people. + +"I have nothing for you," said he, loosing the latch by an inch. "Go +away!" + +He closed the door, but the bell clanged once more. "Get away! Get +away!" he cried impatiently, and walked back into his consulting-room. +He had hardly seated himself when the bell went for the third time. In +a towering passion he rushed back, flung open the door. + +"What the----?" + +"If you please, sir, we need a doctor." + +In an instant he was rubbing his hands again with his blandest +professional smile. These were patients, then, whom he had tried to +hunt from his doorstep--the very first patients, whom he had waited for +so impatiently. They did not look very promising. The man, a tall, +lank-haired gypsy, had gone back to the horse's head. There remained a +small, hard-faced woman with a great bruise all round her eye. She +wore a yellow silk handkerchief round her head, and a baby, tucked in a +red shawl, was pressed to her bosom. + +"Pray step in, madam," said Dr. Horace Wilkinson, with his very best +sympathetic manner. In this case, at least, there could be no mistake +as to diagnosis. "If you will sit on this sofa, I shall very soon make +you feel much more comfortable." + +He poured a little water from his carafe into a saucer, made a compress +of lint, fastened it over the injured eye, and secured the whole with a +spica bandage, secundum artem. + +"Thank ye kindly, sir," said the woman, when his work was finished; +"that's nice and warm, and may God bless your honour. But it wasn't +about my eye at all that I came to see a doctor." + +"Not your eye?" Dr. Horace Wilkinson was beginning to be a little +doubtful as to the advantages of quick diagnosis. It is an excellent +thing to be able to surprise a patient, but hitherto it was always the +patient who had surprised him. + +"The baby's got the measles." + +The mother parted the red shawl, and exhibited a little dark, +black-eyed gypsy baby, whose swarthy face was all flushed and mottled +with a dark-red rash. The child breathed with a rattling sound, and it +looked up at the doctor with eyes which were heavy with want of sleep +and crusted together at the lids. + +"Hum! Yes. Measles, sure enough--and a smart attack." + +"I just wanted you to see her, sir, so that you could signify." + +"Could what?" + +"Signify, if anything happened." + +"Oh, I see--certify." + +"And now that you've seen it, sir, I'll go on, for Reuben--that's my +man--is in a hurry." + +"But don't you want any medicine?" + +"Oh, now you've seen it, it's all right. I'll let you know if anything +happens." + +"But you must have some medicine. The child is very ill." He +descended into the little room which he had fitted as a surgery, and he +made up a two-ounce bottle of cooling medicine. In such cities as +Sutton there are few patients who can afford to pay a fee to both +doctor and chemist, so that unless the physician is prepared to play +the part of both he will have little chance of making a living at +either. + +"There is your medicine, madam. You will find the directions upon the +bottle. Keep the child warm and give it a light diet." + +"Thank you kindly, sir." She shouldered her baby and marched for the +door. + +"Excuse me, madam," said the doctor nervously. "Don't you think it too +small a matter to make a bill of? Perhaps it would be better if we had +a settlement at once." + +The gypsy woman looked at him reproachfully out of her one uncovered +eye. + +"Are you going to charge me for that?" she asked. "How much, then?" + +"Well, say half-a-crown." He mentioned the sum in a half-jesting way, +as though it were too small to take serious notice of, but the gypsy +woman raised quite a scream at the mention of it. + +"'Arf-a-crown! for that?" + +"Well, my good woman, why not go to the poor doctor if you cannot +afford a fee?" + +She fumbled in her pocket, craning awkwardly to keep her grip upon the +baby. + +"Here's sevenpence," she said at last, holding out a little pile of +copper coins. "I'll give you that and a wicker footstool." + +"But my fee is half-a-crown." The doctor's views of the glory of his +profession cried out against this wretched haggling, and yet what was +he to do? "Where am I to get 'arf-a-crown? It is well for gentlefolk +like you who sit in your grand houses, and can eat and drink what you +like, an' charge 'arf-a-crown for just saying as much as, ''Ow d'ye +do?' We can't pick up' arf-crowns like that. What we gets we earns +'ard. This sevenpence is just all I've got. You told me to feed the +child light. She must feed light, for what she's to have is more than +I know." + +Whilst the woman had been speaking, Dr. Horace Wilkinson's eyes had +wandered to the tiny heap of money upon the table, which represented +all that separated him from absolute starvation, and he chuckled to +himself at the grim joke that he should appear to this poor woman to be +a being living in the lap of luxury. Then he picked up the odd +coppers, leaving only the two half-crowns upon the table. + +"Here you are," he said brusquely. "Never mind the fee, and take these +coppers. They may be of some use to you. Good-bye!" He bowed her +out, and closed the door behind her. After all she was the thin edge +of the wedge. These wandering people have great powers of +recommendation. All large practices have been built up from such +foundations. The hangers-on to the kitchen recommend to the kitchen, +they to the drawing-room, and so it spreads. At least he could say now +that he had had a patient. + +He went into the back room and lit the spirit-kettle to boil the water +for his tea, laughing the while at the recollection of his recent +interview. If all patients were like this one it could easily be +reckoned how many it would take to ruin him completely. Putting aside +the dirt upon his carpet and the loss of time, there were twopence gone +upon the bandage, fourpence or more upon the medicine, to say nothing +of phial, cork, label, and paper. Then he had given her fivepence, so +that his first patient had absorbed altogether not less than one sixth +of his available capital. If five more were to come he would be a +broken man. He sat down upon the portmanteau and shook with laughter +at the thought, while he measured out his one spoonful and a half of +tea at one shilling eightpence into the brown earthenware teapot. +Suddenly, however, the laugh faded from his face, and he cocked his ear +towards the door, standing listening with a slanting head and a +sidelong eye. There had been a rasping of wheels against the curb, the +sound of steps outside, and then a loud peal at the bell. With his +teaspoon in his hand he peeped round the corner and saw with amazement +that a carriage and pair were waiting outside, and that a powdered +footman was standing at the door. The spoon tinkled down upon the +floor, and he stood gazing in bewilderment. Then, pulling himself +together, he threw open the door. + +"Young man," said the flunky, "tell your master, Dr. Wilkinson, that he +is wanted just as quick as ever he can come to Lady Millbank, at the +Towers. He is to come this very instant. We'd take him with us, but +we have to go back to see if Dr. Mason is home yet. Just you stir your +stumps and give him the message." + +The footman nodded and was off in an instant, while the coachman lashed +his horses and the carriage flew down the street. + +Here was a new development. Dr. Horace Wilkinson stood at his door and +tried to think it all out. Lady Millbank, of the Towers! People of +wealth and position, no doubt. And a serious case, or why this haste +and summoning of two doctors? But, then, why in the name of all that +is wonderful should he be sent for? + +He was obscure, unknown, without influence. There must be some +mistake. Yes, that must be the true explanation; or was it possible +that some one was attempting a cruel hoax upon him? At any rate, it +was too positive a message to be disregarded. He must set off at once +and settle the matter one way or the other. + +But he had one source of information. At the corner of the street was +a small shop where one of the oldest inhabitants dispensed newspapers +and gossip. He could get information there if anywhere. He put on his +well-brushed top hat, secreted instruments and bandages in all his +pockets, and without waiting for his tea closed up his establishment +and started off upon his adventure. + +The stationer at the corner was a human directory to every one and +everything in Sutton, so that he soon had all the information which he +wanted. Sir John Millbank was very well known in the town, it seemed. +He was a merchant prince, an exporter of pens, three times mayor, and +reported to be fully worth two millions sterling. + +The Towers was his palatial seat, just outside the city. His wife had +been an invalid for some years, and was growing worse. So far the +whole thing seemed to be genuine enough. By some amazing chance these +people really had sent for him. + +And then another doubt assailed him, and he turned back into the shop. + +"I am your neighbour, Dr. Horace Wilkinson," said he. "Is there any +other medical man of that name in the town?" + +No, the stationer was quite positive that there was not. + +That was final, then. A great good fortune had come in his way, and he +must take prompt advantage of it. He called a cab and drove furiously +to the Towers, with his brain in a whirl, giddy with hope and delight +at one moment, and sickened with fears and doubts at the next lest the +case should in some way be beyond his powers, or lest he should find at +some critical moment that he was without the instrument or appliance +that was needed. Every strange and outre case of which he had ever +heard or read came back into his mind, and long before he reached the +Towers he had worked himself into a positive conviction that he would +be instantly required to do a trephining at the least. + +The Towers was a very large house, standing back amid trees, at the +head of a winding drive. As he drove up the doctor sprang out, paid +away half his worldly assets as a fare, and followed a stately footman +who, having taken his name, led him through the oak-panelled, +stained-glass hall, gorgeous with deers' heads and ancient armour, and +ushered him into a large sitting-room beyond. A very +irritable-looking, acid-faced man was seated in an armchair by the +fireplace, while two young ladies in white were standing together in +the bow window at the further end. + +"Hullo! hullo! hullo! What's this--heh?" cried the irritable man. +"Are you Dr. Wilkinson? Eh?" + +"Yes, sir, I am Dr. Wilkinson." + +"Really, now. You seem very young--much younger than I expected. +Well, well, well, Mason's old, and yet he don't seem to know much about +it. I suppose we must try the other end now. You're the Wilkinson who +wrote something about the lungs? Heh?" + +Here was a light! The only two letters which the doctor had ever +written to The Lancet--modest little letters thrust away in a back +column among the wrangles about medical ethics and the inquiries as to +how much it took to keep a horse in the country--had been upon +pulmonary disease. They had not been wasted, then. Some eye had +picked them out and marked the name of the writer. Who could say that +work was ever wasted, or that merit did not promptly meet with its +reward? + +"Yes, I have written on the subject." + +"Ha! Well, then, where's Mason?" + +"I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance." + +"No?--that's queer too. He knows you and thinks a lot of your opinion. +You're a stranger in the town, are you not?" + +"Yes, I have only been here a very short time." + +"That was what Mason said. He didn't give me the address. Said he +would call on you and bring you, but when the wife got worse of course +I inquired for you and sent for you direct. I sent for Mason, too, but +he was out. However, we can't wait for him, so just run away upstairs +and do what you can." + +"Well, I am placed in a rather delicate position," said Dr. Horace +Wilkinson, with some hesitation. "I am here, as I understand, to meet +my colleague, Dr. Mason, in consultation. It would, perhaps, hardly be +correct for me to see the patient in his absence. I think that I would +rather wait." + +"Would you, by Jove! Do you think I'll let my wife get worse while the +doctor is coolly kicking his heels in the room below? No, sir, I am a +plain man, and I tell you that you will either go up or go out." + +The style of speech jarred upon the doctor's sense of the fitness of +things, but still when a man's wife is ill much may be overlooked. He +contented himself by bowing somewhat stiffly. "I shall go up, if you +insist upon it," said he. + +"I do insist upon it. And another thing, I won't have her thumped +about all over the chest, or any hocus-pocus of the sort. She has +bronchitis and asthma, and that's all. If you can cure it well and +good. But it only weakens her to have you tapping and listening, and +it does no good either." + +Personal disrespect was a thing that the doctor could stand; but the +profession was to him a holy thing, and a flippant word about it cut +him to the quick. + +"Thank you," said he, picking up his hat. "I have the honour to wish +you a very good day. I do not care to undertake the responsibility of +this case." + +"Hullo! what's the matter now?" + +"It is not my habit to give opinions without examining my patient. I +wonder that you should suggest such a course to a medical man. I wish +you good day." + +But Sir John Millbank was a commercial man, and believed in the +commercial principle that the more difficult a thing is to attain the +more valuable it is. A doctor's opinion had been to him a mere matter +of guineas. But here was a young man who seemed to care nothing either +for his wealth or title. His respect for his judgment increased +amazingly. + +"Tut! tut!" said he; "Mason is not so thin-skinned. There! there! +Have your way! Do what you like and I won't say another word. I'll +just run upstairs and tell Lady Millbank that you are coming." + +The door had hardly closed behind him when the two demure young ladies +darted out of their corner, and fluttered with joy in front of the +astonished doctor. + +"Oh, well done! well done!" cried the taller, clapping her hands. + +"Don't let him bully you, doctor," said the other. "Oh, it was so nice +to hear you stand up to him. That's the way he does with poor Dr. +Mason. Dr. Mason has never examined mamma yet. He always takes papa's +word for everything. Hush, Maude; here he comes again." They subsided +in an instant into their corner as silent and demure as ever. + +Dr. Horace Wilkinson followed Sir John up the broad, thick-carpeted +staircase, and into the darkened sick room. In a quarter of an hour he +had sounded and sifted the case to the uttermost, and descended with +the husband once more to the drawing-room. In front of the fireplace +were standing two gentlemen, the one a very typical, clean-shaven, +general practitioner, the other a striking-looking man of middle age, +with pale blue eyes and a long red beard. + +"Hullo, Mason, you've come at last!" + +"Yes, Sir John, and I have brought, as I promised, Dr. Wilkinson with +me." + +"Dr. Wilkinson! Why, this is he." + +Dr. Mason stared in astonishment. "I have never seen the gentleman +before!" he cried. + +"Nevertheless I am Dr. Wilkinson--Dr. Horace Wilkinson, of 114 Canal +View." + +"Good gracious, Sir John!" cried Dr. Mason. + +"Did you think that in a case of such importance I should call in a +junior local practitioner! This is Dr. Adam Wilkinson, lecturer on +pulmonary diseases at Regent's College, London, physician upon the +staff of the St. Swithin's Hospital, and author of a dozen works upon +the subject. He happened to be in Sutton upon a visit, and I thought I +would utilise his presence to have a first-rate opinion upon Lady +Millbank." + +"Thank you," said Sir John, dryly. "But I fear my wife is rather tired +now, for she has just been very thoroughly examined by this young +gentleman. I think we will let it stop at that for the present; +though, of course, as you have had the trouble of coming here, I should +be glad to have a note of your fees." + +When Dr. Mason had departed, looking very disgusted, and his friend, +the specialist, very amused, Sir John listened to all the young +physician had to say about the case. + +"Now, I'll tell you what," said he, when he had finished. "I'm a man +of my word, d'ye see? When I like a man I freeze to him. I'm a good +friend and a bad enemy. I believe in you, and I don't believe in +Mason. From now on you are my doctor, and that of my family. Come and +see my wife every day. How does that suit your book?" + +"I am extremely grateful to you for your kind intentions toward me, but +I am afraid there is no possible way in which I can avail myself of +them." + +"Heh! what d'ye mean?" + +"I could not possibly take Dr. Mason's place in the middle of a case +like this. It would be a most unprofessional act." + +"Oh, well, go your own way!" cried Sir John, in despair. "Never was +such a man for making difficulties. You've had a fair offer and you've +refused it, and now you can just go your own way." + +The millionaire stumped out of the room in a huff, and Dr. Horace +Wilkinson made his way homeward to his spirit-lamp and his +one-and-eightpenny tea, with his first guinea in his pocket, and with a +feeling that he had upheld the best traditions of his profession. + +And yet this false start of his was a true start also, for it soon came +to Dr. Mason's ears that his junior had had it in his power to carry +off his best patient and had forborne to do so. To the honour of the +profession be it said that such forbearance is the rule rather than the +exception, and yet in this case, with so very junior a practitioner and +so very wealthy a patient, the temptation was greater than is usual. +There was a grateful note, a visit, a friendship, and now the +well-known firm of Mason and Wilkinson is doing the largest family +practice in Sutton. + + + + +THE CURSE OF EVE. + +Robert Johnson was an essentially commonplace man, with no feature to +distinguish him from a million others. He was pale of face, ordinary +in looks, neutral in opinions, thirty years of age, and a married man. +By trade he was a gentleman's outfitter in the New North Road, and the +competition of business squeezed out of him the little character that +was left. In his hope of conciliating customers he had become cringing +and pliable, until working ever in the same routine from day to day he +seemed to have sunk into a soulless machine rather than a man. No +great question had ever stirred him. At the end of this snug century, +self-contained in his own narrow circle, it seemed impossible that any +of the mighty, primitive passions of mankind could ever reach him. Yet +birth, and lust, and illness, and death are changeless things, and when +one of these harsh facts springs out upon a man at some sudden turn of +the path of life, it dashes off for the moment his mask of civilisation +and gives a glimpse of the stranger and stronger face below. + +Johnson's wife was a quiet little woman, with brown hair and gentle +ways. His affection for her was the one positive trait in his +character. Together they would lay out the shop window every Monday +morning, the spotless shirts in their green cardboard boxes below, the +neckties above hung in rows over the brass rails, the cheap studs +glistening from the white cards at either side, while in the background +were the rows of cloth caps and the bank of boxes in which the more +valuable hats were screened from the sunlight. She kept the books and +sent out the bills. No one but she knew the joys and sorrows which +crept into his small life. She had shared his exultations when the +gentleman who was going to India had bought ten dozen shirts and an +incredible number of collars, and she had been as stricken as he when, +after the goods had gone, the bill was returned from the hotel address +with the intimation that no such person had lodged there. For five +years they had worked, building up the business, thrown together all +the more closely because their marriage had been a childless one. Now, +however, there were signs that a change was at hand, and that speedily. +She was unable to come downstairs, and her mother, Mrs. Peyton, came +over from Camberwell to nurse her and to welcome her grandchild. + +Little qualms of anxiety came over Johnson as his wife's time +approached. However, after all, it was a natural process. Other men's +wives went through it unharmed, and why should not his? He was himself +one of a family of fourteen, and yet his mother was alive and hearty. +It was quite the exception for anything to go wrong. And yet in spite +of his reasonings the remembrance of his wife's condition was always +like a sombre background to all his other thoughts. + +Dr. Miles of Bridport Place, the best man in the neighbourhood, was +retained five months in advance, and, as time stole on, many little +packets of absurdly small white garments with frill work and ribbons +began to arrive among the big consignments of male necessities. And +then one evening, as Johnson was ticketing the scarfs in the shop, he +heard a bustle upstairs, and Mrs. Peyton came running down to say that +Lucy was bad and that she thought the doctor ought to be there without +delay. + +It was not Robert Johnson's nature to hurry. He was prim and staid and +liked to do things in an orderly fashion. It was a quarter of a mile +from the corner of the New North Road where his shop stood to the +doctor's house in Bridport Place. There were no cabs in sight so he +set off upon foot, leaving the lad to mind the shop. At Bridport Place +he was told that the doctor had just gone to Harman Street to attend a +man in a fit. Johnson started off for Harman Street, losing a little +of his primness as he became more anxious. Two full cabs but no empty +ones passed him on the way. At Harman Street he learned that the +doctor had gone on to a case of measles, fortunately he had left the +address--69 Dunstan Road, at the other side of the Regent's Canal. +Robert's primness had vanished now as he thought of the women waiting +at home, and he began to run as hard as he could down the Kingsland +Road. Some way along he sprang into a cab which stood by the curb and +drove to Dunstan Road. The doctor had just left, and Robert Johnson +felt inclined to sit down upon the steps in despair. + +Fortunately he had not sent the cab away, and he was soon back at +Bridport Place. Dr. Miles had not returned yet, but they were +expecting him every instant. Johnson waited, drumming his fingers on +his knees, in a high, dim lit room, the air of which was charged with a +faint, sickly smell of ether. The furniture was massive, and the books +in the shelves were sombre, and a squat black clock ticked mournfully +on the mantelpiece. It told him that it was half-past seven, and that +he had been gone an hour and a quarter. Whatever would the women think +of him! Every time that a distant door slammed he sprang from his +chair in a quiver of eagerness. His ears strained to catch the deep +notes of the doctor's voice. And then, suddenly, with a gush of joy he +heard a quick step outside, and the sharp click of the key in the lock. +In an instant he was out in the hall, before the doctor's foot was over +the threshold. + +"If you please, doctor, I've come for you," he cried; "the wife was +taken bad at six o'clock." + +He hardly knew what he expected the doctor to do. Something very +energetic, certainly--to seize some drugs, perhaps, and rush excitedly +with him through the gaslit streets. Instead of that Dr. Miles threw +his umbrella into the rack, jerked off his hat with a somewhat peevish +gesture, and pushed Johnson back into the room. + +"Let's see! You DID engage me, didn't you?" he asked in no very +cordial voice. + +"Oh, yes, doctor, last November. Johnson the outfitter, you know, in +the New North Road." + +"Yes, yes. It's a bit overdue," said the doctor, glancing at a list of +names in a note-book with a very shiny cover. "Well, how is she?" + +"I don't----" + +"Ah, of course, it's your first. You'll know more about it next time." + +"Mrs. Peyton said it was time you were there, sir." + +"My dear sir, there can be no very pressing hurry in a first case. We +shall have an all-night affair, I fancy. You can't get an engine to go +without coals, Mr. Johnson, and I have had nothing but a light lunch." + +"We could have something cooked for you--something hot and a cup of +tea." + +"Thank you, but I fancy my dinner is actually on the table. I can do +no good in the earlier stages. Go home and say that I am coming, and I +will be round immediately afterwards." + +A sort of horror filled Robert Johnson as he gazed at this man who +could think about his dinner at such a moment. He had not imagination +enough to realise that the experience which seemed so appallingly +important to him, was the merest everyday matter of business to the +medical man who could not have lived for a year had he not, amid the +rush of work, remembered what was due to his own health. To Johnson he +seemed little better than a monster. His thoughts were bitter as he +sped back to his shop. + +"You've taken your time," said his mother-in-law reproachfully, looking +down the stairs as he entered. + +"I couldn't help it!" he gasped. "Is it over?" + +"Over! She's got to be worse, poor dear, before she can be better. +Where's Dr. Miles!" + +"He's coming after he's had dinner." The old woman was about to make +some reply, when, from the half-opened door behind a high whinnying +voice cried out for her. She ran back and closed the door, while +Johnson, sick at heart, turned into the shop. There he sent the lad +home and busied himself frantically in putting up shutters and turning +out boxes. When all was closed and finished he seated himself in the +parlour behind the shop. But he could not sit still. He rose +incessantly to walk a few paces and then fell back into a chair once +more. Suddenly the clatter of china fell upon his ear, and he saw the +maid pass the door with a cup on a tray and a smoking teapot. + +"Who is that for, Jane?" he asked. + +"For the mistress, Mr. Johnson. She says she would fancy it." + +There was immeasurable consolation to him in that homely cup of tea. +It wasn't so very bad after all if his wife could think of such things. +So light-hearted was he that he asked for a cup also. He had just +finished it when the doctor arrived, with a small black leather bag in +his hand. + +"Well, how is she?" he asked genially. + +"Oh, she's very much better," said Johnson, with enthusiasm. + +"Dear me, that's bad!" said the doctor. "Perhaps it will do if I look +in on my morning round?" + +"No, no," cried Johnson, clutching at his thick frieze overcoat. "We +are so glad that you have come. And, doctor, please come down soon and +let me know what you think about it." + +The doctor passed upstairs, his firm, heavy steps resounding through +the house. Johnson could hear his boots creaking as he walked about +the floor above him, and the sound was a consolation to him. It was +crisp and decided, the tread of a man who had plenty of +self-confidence. Presently, still straining his ears to catch what was +going on, he heard the scraping of a chair as it was drawn along the +floor, and a moment later he heard the door fly open and someone come +rushing downstairs. Johnson sprang up with his hair bristling, +thinking that some dreadful thing had occurred, but it was only his +mother-in-law, incoherent with excitement and searching for scissors +and some tape. She vanished again and Jane passed up the stairs with a +pile of newly aired linen. Then, after an interval of silence, Johnson +heard the heavy, creaking tread and the doctor came down into the +parlour. + +"That's better," said he, pausing with his hand upon the door. "You +look pale, Mr. Johnson." + +"Oh no, sir, not at all," he answered deprecatingly, mopping his brow +with his handkerchief. + +"There is no immediate cause for alarm," said Dr. Miles. "The case is +not all that we could wish it. Still we will hope for the best." + +"Is there danger, sir?" gasped Johnson. + +"Well, there is always danger, of course. It is not altogether a +favourable case, but still it might be much worse. I have given her a +draught. I saw as I passed that they have been doing a little building +opposite to you. It's an improving quarter. The rents go higher and +higher. You have a lease of your own little place, eh?" + +"Yes, sir, yes!" cried Johnson, whose ears were straining for every +sound from above, and who felt none the less that it was very soothing +that the doctor should be able to chat so easily at such a time. +"That's to say no, sir, I am a yearly tenant." + +"Ah, I should get a lease if I were you. There's Marshall, the +watchmaker, down the street. I attended his wife twice and saw him +through the typhoid when they took up the drains in Prince Street. I +assure you his landlord sprung his rent nearly forty a year and he had +to pay or clear out." + +"Did his wife get through it, doctor?" + +"Oh yes, she did very well. Hullo! hullo!" + +He slanted his ear to the ceiling with a questioning face, and then +darted swiftly from the room. + +It was March and the evenings were chill, so Jane had lit the fire, but +the wind drove the smoke downwards and the air was full of its acrid +taint. Johnson felt chilled to the bone, though rather by his +apprehensions than by the weather. He crouched over the fire with his +thin white hands held out to the blaze. At ten o'clock Jane brought in +the joint of cold meat and laid his place for supper, but he could not +bring himself to touch it. He drank a glass of the beer, however, and +felt the better for it. The tension of his nerves seemed to have +reacted upon his hearing, and he was able to follow the most trivial +things in the room above. Once, when the beer was still heartening +him, he nerved himself to creep on tiptoe up the stair and to listen to +what was going on. The bedroom door was half an inch open, and through +the slit he could catch a glimpse of the clean-shaven face of the +doctor, looking wearier and more anxious than before. Then he rushed +downstairs like a lunatic, and running to the door he tried to distract +his thoughts by watching what; was going on in the street. The shops +were all shut, and some rollicking boon companions came shouting along +from the public-house. He stayed at the door until the stragglers had +thinned down, and then came back to his seat by the fire. In his dim +brain he was asking himself questions which had never intruded +themselves before. Where was the justice of it? What had his sweet, +innocent little wife done that she should be used so? Why was nature +so cruel? He was frightened at his own thoughts, and yet wondered that +they had never occurred to him before. + +As the early morning drew in, Johnson, sick at heart and shivering in +every limb, sat with his great coat huddled round him, staring at the +grey ashes and waiting hopelessly for some relief. His face was white +and clammy, and his nerves had been numbed into a half conscious state +by the long monotony of misery. But suddenly all his feelings leapt +into keen life again as he heard the bedroom door open and the doctor's +steps upon the stair. Robert Johnson was precise and unemotional in +everyday life, but he almost shrieked now as he rushed forward to know +if it were over. + +One glance at the stern, drawn face which met him showed that it was no +pleasant news which had sent the doctor downstairs. His appearance had +altered as much as Johnson's during the last few hours. His hair was +on end, his face flushed, his forehead dotted with beads of +perspiration. There was a peculiar fierceness in his eye, and about +the lines of his mouth, a fighting look as befitted a man who for hours +on end had been striving with the hungriest of foes for the most +precious of prizes. But there was a sadness too, as though his grim +opponent had been overmastering him. He sat down and leaned his head +upon his hand like a man who is fagged out. + +"I thought it my duty to see you, Mr. Johnson, and to tell you that it +is a very nasty case. Your wife's heart is not strong, and she has +some symptoms which I do not like. What I wanted to say is that if you +would like to have a second opinion I shall be very glad to meet anyone +whom you might suggest." + +Johnson was so dazed by his want of sleep and the evil news that he +could hardly grasp the doctor's meaning. The other, seeing him +hesitate, thought that he was considering the expense. + +"Smith or Hawley would come for two guineas," said he. "But I think +Pritchard of the City Road is the best man." + +"Oh, yes, bring the best man," cried Johnson. + +"Pritchard would want three guineas. He is a senior man, you see." + +"I'd give him all I have if he would pull her through. Shall I run for +him?" + +"Yes. Go to my house first and ask for the green baize bag. The +assistant will give it to you. Tell him I want the A. C. E. mixture. +Her heart is too weak for chloroform. Then go for Pritchard and bring +him back with you." + +It was heavenly for Johnson to have something to do and to feel that he +was of some use to his wife. He ran swiftly to Bridport Place, his +footfalls clattering through the silent streets and the big dark +policemen turning their yellow funnels of light on him as he passed. +Two tugs at the night-bell brought down a sleepy, half-clad assistant, +who handed him a stoppered glass bottle and a cloth bag which contained +something which clinked when you moved it. Johnson thrust the bottle +into his pocket, seized the green bag, and pressing his hat firmly down +ran as hard as he could set foot to ground until he was in the City +Road and saw the name of Pritchard engraved in white upon a red ground. +He bounded in triumph up the three steps which led to the door, and as +he did so there was a crash behind him. His precious bottle was in +fragments upon the pavement. + +For a moment he felt as if it were his wife's body that was lying +there. But the run had freshened his wits and he saw that the mischief +might be repaired. He pulled vigorously at the night-bell. + +"Well, what's the matter?" asked a gruff voice at his elbow. He +started back and looked up at the windows, but there was no sign of +life. He was approaching the bell again with the intention of pulling +it, when a perfect roar burst from the wall. + +"I can't stand shivering here all night," cried the voice. "Say who +you are and what you want or I shut the tube." + +Then for the first time Johnson saw that the end of a speaking-tube +hung out of the wall just above the bell. He shouted up it,-- + +"I want you to come with me to meet Dr. Miles at a confinement at once." + +"How far?" shrieked the irascible voice. + +"The New North Road, Hoxton." + +"My consultation fee is three guineas, payable at the time." + +"All right," shouted Johnson. "You are to bring a bottle of A. C. E. +mixture with you." + +"All right! Wait a bit!" + +Five minutes later an elderly, hard-faced man, with grizzled hair, +flung open the door. As he emerged a voice from somewhere in the +shadows cried,-- + +"Mind you take your cravat, John," and he impatiently growled something +over his shoulder in reply. + +The consultant was a man who had been hardened by a life of ceaseless +labour, and who had been driven, as so many others have been, by the +needs of his own increasing family to set the commercial before the +philanthropic side of his profession. Yet beneath his rough crust he +was a man with a kindly heart. + +"We don't want to break a record," said he, pulling up and panting +after attempting to keep up with Johnson for five minutes. "I would go +quicker if I could, my dear sir, and I quite sympathise with your +anxiety, but really I can't manage it." + +So Johnson, on fire with impatience, had to slow down until they +reached the New North Road, when he ran ahead and had the door open for +the doctor when he came. He heard the two meet outside the bed-room, +and caught scraps of their conversation. "Sorry to knock you up--nasty +case--decent people." Then it sank into a mumble and the door closed +behind them. + +Johnson sat up in his chair now, listening keenly, for he knew that a +crisis must be at hand. He heard the two doctors moving about, and was +able to distinguish the step of Pritchard, which had a drag in it, from +the clean, crisp sound of the other's footfall. There was silence for +a few minutes and then a curious drunken, mumbling sing-song voice came +quavering up, very unlike anything which he had heard hitherto. At the +same time a sweetish, insidious scent, imperceptible perhaps to any +nerves less strained than his, crept down the stairs and penetrated +into the room. The voice dwindled into a mere drone and finally sank +away into silence, and Johnson gave a long sigh of relief, for he knew +that the drug had done its work and that, come what might, there should +be no more pain for the sufferer. + +But soon the silence became even more trying to him than the cries had +been. He had no clue now as to what was going on, and his mind swarmed +with horrible possibilities. He rose and went to the bottom of the +stairs again. He heard the clink of metal against metal, and the +subdued murmur of the doctors' voices. Then he heard Mrs. Peyton say +something, in a tone as of fear or expostulation, and again the doctors +murmured together. For twenty minutes he stood there leaning against +the wall, listening to the occasional rumbles of talk without being +able to catch a word of it. And then of a sudden there rose out of the +silence the strangest little piping cry, and Mrs. Peyton screamed out +in her delight and the man ran into the parlour and flung himself down +upon the horse-hair sofa, drumming his heels on it in his ecstasy. + +But often the great cat Fate lets us go only to clutch us again in a +fiercer grip. As minute after minute passed and still no sound came +from above save those thin, glutinous cries, Johnson cooled from his +frenzy of joy, and lay breathless with his ears straining. They were +moving slowly about. They were talking in subdued tones. Still minute +after minute passing, and no word from the voice for which he listened. +His nerves were dulled by his night of trouble, and he waited in limp +wretchedness upon his sofa. There he still sat when the doctors came +down to him--a bedraggled, miserable figure with his face grimy and his +hair unkempt from his long vigil. He rose as they entered, bracing +himself against the mantelpiece. + +"Is she dead?" he asked. + +"Doing well," answered the doctor. + +And at the words that little conventional spirit which had never known +until that night the capacity for fierce agony which lay within it, +learned for the second time that there were springs of joy also which +it had never tapped before. His impulse was to fall upon his knees, +but he was shy before the doctors. + +"Can I go up?" + +"In a few minutes." + +"I'm sure, doctor, I'm very--I'm very----" he grew inarticulate. "Here +are your three guineas, Dr. Pritchard. I wish they were three hundred." + +"So do I," said the senior man, and they laughed as they shook hands. + +Johnson opened the shop door for them and heard their talk as they +stood for an instant outside. + +"Looked nasty at one time." + +"Very glad to have your help." + +"Delighted, I'm sure. Won't you step round and have a cup of coffee?" + +"No, thanks. I'm expecting another case." + +The firm step and the dragging one passed away to the right and the +left. Johnson turned from the door still with that turmoil of joy in +his heart. He seemed to be making a new start in life. He felt that +he was a stronger and a deeper man. Perhaps all this suffering had an +object then. It might prove to be a blessing both to his wife and to +him. The very thought was one which he would have been incapable of +conceiving twelve hours before. He was full of new emotions. If there +had been a harrowing there had been a planting too. + +"Can I come up?" he cried, and then, without waiting for an answer, he +took the steps three at a time. + +Mrs. Peyton was standing by a soapy bath with a bundle in her hands. +From under the curve of a brown shawl there looked out at him the +strangest little red face with crumpled features, moist, loose lips, +and eyelids which quivered like a rabbit's nostrils. The weak neck had +let the head topple over, and it rested upon the shoulder. + +"Kiss it, Robert!" cried the grandmother. "Kiss your son!" + +But he felt a resentment to the little, red, blinking creature. He +could not forgive it yet for that long night of misery. He caught +sight of a white face in the bed and he ran towards it with such love +and pity as his speech could find no words for. + +"Thank God it is over! Lucy, dear, it was dreadful!" + +"But I'm so happy now. I never was so happy in my life." + +Her eyes were fixed upon the brown bundle. + +"You mustn't talk," said Mrs. Peyton. + +"But don't leave me," whispered his wife. + +So he sat in silence with his hand in hers. The lamp was burning dim +and the first cold light of dawn was breaking through the window. The +night had been long and dark but the day was the sweeter and the purer +in consequence. London was waking up. The roar began to rise from the +street. Lives had come and lives had gone, but the great machine was +still working out its dim and tragic destiny. + + + + +SWEETHEARTS. + +It is hard for the general practitioner who sits among his patients +both morning and evening, and sees them in their homes between, to +steal time for one little daily breath of cleanly air. To win it he +must slip early from his bed and walk out between shuttered shops when +it is chill but very clear, and all things are sharply outlined, as in +a frost. It is an hour that has a charm of its own, when, but for a +postman or a milkman, one has the pavement to oneself, and even the +most common thing takes an ever-recurring freshness, as though +causeway, and lamp, and signboard had all wakened to the new day. Then +even an inland city may seem beautiful, and bear virtue in its +smoke-tainted air. + +But it was by the sea that I lived, in a town that was unlovely enough +were it not for its glorious neighbour. And who cares for the town +when one can sit on the bench at the headland, and look out over the +huge, blue bay, and the yellow scimitar that curves before it. I loved +it when its great face was freckled with the fishing boats, and I loved +it when the big ships went past, far out, a little hillock of white and +no hull, with topsails curved like a bodice, so stately and demure. +But most of all I loved it when no trace of man marred the majesty of +Nature, and when the sun-bursts slanted down on it from between the +drifting rainclouds. Then I have seen the further edge draped in the +gauze of the driving rain, with its thin grey shading under the slow +clouds, while my headland was golden, and the sun gleamed upon the +breakers and struck deep through the green waves beyond, showing up the +purple patches where the beds of seaweed are lying. Such a morning as +that, with the wind in his hair, and the spray on his lips, and the cry +of the eddying gulls in his ear, may send a man back braced afresh to +the reek of a sick-room, and the dead, drab weariness of practice. + +It was on such another day that I first saw my old man. He came to my +bench just as I was leaving it. My eye must have picked him out even +in a crowded street, for he was a man of large frame and fine presence, +with something of distinction in the set of his lip and the poise of +his head. He limped up the winding path leaning heavily upon his +stick, as though those great shoulders had become too much at last for +the failing limbs that bore them. As he approached, my eyes caught +Nature's danger signal, that faint bluish tinge in nose and lip which +tells of a labouring heart. + +"The brae is a little trying, sir," said I. "Speaking as a physician, +I should say that you would do well to rest here before you go further." + +He inclined his head in a stately, old-world fashion, and seated +himself upon the bench. Seeing that he had no wish to speak I was +silent also, but I could not help watching him out of the corners of my +eyes, for he was such a wonderful survival of the early half of the +century, with his low-crowned, curly-brimmed hat, his black satin tie +which fastened with a buckle at the back, and, above all, his large, +fleshy, clean-shaven face shot with its mesh of wrinkles. Those eyes, +ere they had grown dim, had looked out from the box-seat of mail +coaches, and had seen the knots of navvies as they toiled on the brown +embankments. Those lips had smiled over the first numbers of +"Pickwick," and had gossiped of the promising young man who wrote them. +The face itself was a seventy-year almanack, and every seam an entry +upon it where public as well as private sorrow left its trace. That +pucker on the forehead stood for the Mutiny, perhaps; that line of care +for the Crimean winter, it may be; and that last little sheaf of +wrinkles, as my fancy hoped, for the death of Gordon. And so, as I +dreamed in my foolish way, the old gentleman with the shining stock was +gone, and it was seventy years of a great nation's life that took shape +before me on the headland in the morning. + +But he soon brought me back to earth again. As he recovered his breath +he took a letter out of his pocket, and, putting on a pair of +horn-rimmed eye-glasses, he read it through very carefully. Without +any design of playing the spy I could not help observing that it was in +a woman's hand. When he had finished it he read it again, and then sat +with the corners of his mouth drawn down and his eyes staring vacantly +out over the bay, the most forlorn-looking old gentleman that ever I +have seen. All that is kindly within me was set stirring by that +wistful face, but I knew that he was in no humour for talk, and so, at +last, with my breakfast and my patients calling me, I left him on the +bench and started for home. + +I never gave him another thought until the next morning, when, at the +same hour, he turned up upon the headland, and shared the bench which I +had been accustomed to look upon as my own. He bowed again before +sitting down, but was no more inclined than formerly to enter into +conversation. There had been a change in him during the last +twenty-four hours, and all for the worse. The face seemed more heavy +and more wrinkled, while that ominous venous tinge was more pronounced +as he panted up the hill. The clean lines of his cheek and chin were +marred by a day's growth of grey stubble, and his large, shapely head +had lost something of the brave carriage which had struck me when first +I glanced at him. He had a letter there, the same, or another, but +still in a woman's hand, and over this he was moping and mumbling in +his senile fashion, with his brow puckered, and the corners of his +mouth drawn down like those of a fretting child. So I left him, with a +vague wonder as to who he might be, and why a single spring day should +have wrought such a change upon him. + +So interested was I that next morning I was on the look out for him. +Sure enough, at the same hour, I saw him coming up the hill; but very +slowly, with a bent back and a heavy head. It was shocking to me to +see the change in him as he approached. + +"I am afraid that our air does not agree with you, sir," I ventured to +remark. + +But it was as though he had no heart for talk. He tried, as I thought, +to make some fitting reply, but it slurred off into a mumble and +silence. How bent and weak and old he seemed--ten years older at the +least than when first I had seen him! It went to my heart to see this +fine old fellow wasting away before my eyes. There was the eternal +letter which he unfolded with his shaking fingers. Who was this woman +whose words moved him so? Some daughter, perhaps, or granddaughter, +who should have been the light of his home instead of---- I smiled to +find how bitter I was growing, and how swiftly I was weaving a romance +round an unshaven old man and his correspondence. Yet all day he +lingered in my mind, and I had fitful glimpses of those two trembling, +blue-veined, knuckly hands with the paper rustling between them. + +I had hardly hoped to see him again. Another day's decline must, I +thought, hold him to his room, if not to his bed. Great, then, was my +surprise when, as I approached my bench, I saw that he was already +there. But as I came up to him I could scarce be sure that it was +indeed the same man. There were the curly-brimmed hat, and the shining +stock, and the horn glasses, but where were the stoop and the +grey-stubbled, pitiable face? He was clean-shaven and firm lipped, +with a bright eye and a head that poised itself upon his great +shoulders like an eagle on a rock. His back was as straight and square +as a grenadier's, and he switched at the pebbles with his stick in his +exuberant vitality. In the button-hole of his well-brushed black coat +there glinted a golden blossom, and the corner of a dainty red silk +handkerchief lapped over from his breast pocket. He might have been +the eldest son of the weary creature who had sat there the morning +before. + +"Good morning, Sir, good morning!" he cried with a merry waggle of his +cane. + +"Good morning!" I answered, "how beautiful the bay is looking." + +"Yes, Sir, but you should have seen it just before the sun rose." + +"What, have you been here since then?" + +"I was here when there was scarce light to see the path." + +"You are a very early riser." + +"On occasion, sir; on occasion!" He cocked his eye at me as if to +gauge whether I were worthy of his confidence. "The fact is, sir, that +my wife is coming back to me to day." + +I suppose that my face showed that I did not quite see the force of the +explanation. My eyes, too, may have given him assurance of sympathy, +for he moved quite close to me and began speaking in a low, +confidential voice, as if the matter were of such weight that even the +sea-gulls must be kept out of our councils. + +"Are you a married man, Sir?" + +"No, I am not." + +"Ah, then you cannot quite understand it. My wife and I have been +married for nearly fifty years, and we have never been parted, never at +all, until now." + +"Was it for long?" I asked. + +"Yes, sir. This is the fourth day. She had to go to Scotland. A +matter of duty, you understand, and the doctors would not let me go. +Not that I would have allowed them to stop me, but she was on their +side. Now, thank God! it is over, and she may be here at any moment." + +"Here!" + +"Yes, here. This headland and bench were old friends of ours thirty +years ago. The people with whom we stay are not, to tell the truth, +very congenial, and we have, little privacy among them. That is why we +prefer to meet here. I could not be sure which train would bring her, +but if she had come by the very earliest she would have found me +waiting." + +"In that case----" said I, rising. + +"No, sir, no," he entreated, "I beg that you will stay. It does not +weary you, this domestic talk of mine?" + +"On the contrary." + +"I have been so driven inwards during these few last days! Ah, what a +nightmare it has been! Perhaps it may seem strange to you that an old +fellow like me should feel like this." + +"It is charming." + +"No credit to me, sir! There's not a man on this planet but would feel +the same if he had the good fortune to be married to such a woman. +Perhaps, because you see me like this, and hear me speak of our long +life together, you conceive that she is old, too." + +He laughed heartily, and his eyes twinkled at the humour of the idea. + +"She's one of those women, you know, who have youth in their hearts, +and so it can never be very far from their faces. To me she's just as +she was when she first took my hand in hers in '45. A wee little bit +stouter, perhaps, but then, if she had a fault as a girl, it was that +she was a shade too slender. She was above me in station, you know--I +a clerk, and she the daughter of my employer. Oh! it was quite a +romance, I give you my word, and I won her; and, somehow, I have never +got over the freshness and the wonder of it. To think that that sweet, +lovely girl has walked by my side all through life, and that I have +been able----" + +He stopped suddenly, and I glanced round at him in surprise. He was +shaking all over, in every fibre of his great body. His hands were +clawing at the woodwork, and his feet shuffling on the gravel. I saw +what it was. He was trying to rise, but was so excited that he could +not. I half extended my hand, but a higher courtesy constrained me to +draw it back again and turn my face to the sea. An instant afterwards +he was up and hurrying down the path. + +A woman was coming towards us. She was quite close before he had seen +her--thirty yards at the utmost. I know not if she had ever been as he +described her, or whether it was but some ideal which he carried in his +brain. The person upon whom I looked was tall, it is true, but she was +thick and shapeless, with a ruddy, full-blown face, and a skirt +grotesquely gathered up. There was a green ribbon in her hat, which +jarred upon my eyes, and her blouse-like bodice was full and clumsy. +And this was the lovely girl, the ever youthful! My heart sank as I +thought how little such a woman might appreciate him, how unworthy she +might be of his love. + +She came up the path in her solid way, while he staggered along to meet +her. Then, as they came together, looking discreetly out of the +furthest corner of my eye, I saw that he put out both his hands, while +she, shrinking from a public caress, took one of them in hers and shook +it. As she did so I saw her face, and I was easy in my mind for my old +man. God grant that when this hand is shaking, and when this back is +bowed, a woman's eyes may look so into mine. + + + + +A PHYSIOLOGIST'S WIFE. + +Professor Ainslie Grey had not come down to breakfast at the usual +hour. The presentation chiming-clock which stood between the +terra-cotta busts of Claude Bernard and of John Hunter upon the +dining-room mantelpiece had rung out the half-hour and the +three-quarters. Now its golden hand was verging upon the nine, and yet +there were no signs of the master of the house. + +It was an unprecedented occurrence. During the twelve years that she +had kept house for him, his youngest sister had never known him a +second behind his time. She sat now in front of the high silver +coffee-pot, uncertain whether to order the gong to be resounded or to +wait on in silence. Either course might be a mistake. Her brother was +not a man who permitted mistakes. + +Miss Ainslie Grey was rather above the middle height, thin, with +peering, puckered eyes, and the rounded shoulders which mark the +bookish woman. Her face was long and spare, flecked with colour above +the cheek-bones, with a reasonable, thoughtful forehead, and a dash of +absolute obstinacy in her thin lips and prominent chin. Snow white +cuffs and collar, with a plain dark dress, cut with almost Quaker-like +simplicity, bespoke the primness of her taste. An ebony cross hung +over her flattened chest. She sat very upright in her chair, listening +with raised eyebrows, and swinging her eye-glasses backwards and +forwards with a nervous gesture which was peculiar to her. + +Suddenly she gave a sharp, satisfied jerk of the head, and began to +pour out the coffee. From outside there came the dull thudding sound +of heavy feet upon thick carpet. The door swung open, and the +Professor entered with a quick, nervous step. He nodded to his sister, +and seating himself at the other side of the table, began to open the +small pile of letters which lay beside his plate. + +Professor Ainslie Grey was at that time forty-three years of +age--nearly twelve years older than his sister. His career had been a +brilliant one. At Edinburgh, at Cambridge, and at Vienna he had laid +the foundations of his great reputation, both in physiology and in +zoology. + +His pamphlet, On the Mesoblastic Origin of Excitomotor Nerve Roots, had +won him his fellowship of the Royal Society; and his researches, Upon +the Nature of Bathybius, with some Remarks upon Lithococci, had been +translated into at least three European languages. He had been +referred to by one of the greatest living authorities as being the very +type and embodiment of all that was best in modern science. No wonder, +then, that when the commercial city of Birchespool decided to create a +medical school, they were only too glad to confer the chair of +physiology upon Mr. Ainslie Grey. They valued him the more from the +conviction that their class was only one step in his upward journey, +and that the first vacancy would remove him to some more illustrious +seat of learning. + +In person he was not unlike his sister. The same eyes, the same +contour, the same intellectual forehead. His lips, however, were +firmer, and his long, thin, lower jaw was sharper and more decided. He +ran his finger and thumb down it from time to time, as he glanced over +his letters. + +"Those maids are very noisy," he remarked, as a clack of tongues +sounded in the distance. + +"It is Sarah," said his sister; "I shall speak about it." + +She had handed over his coffee-cup, and was sipping at her own, +glancing furtively through her narrowed lids at the austere face of her +brother. + +"The first great advance of the human race," said the Professor, "was +when, by the development of their left frontal convolutions, they +attained the power of speech. Their second advance was when they +learned to control that power. Woman has not yet attained the second +stage." + +He half closed his eyes as he spoke, and thrust his chin forward, but +as he ceased he had a trick of suddenly opening both eyes very wide and +staring sternly at his interlocutor. + +"I am not garrulous, John," said his sister. + +"No, Ada; in many respects you approach the superior or male type." + +The Professor bowed over his egg with the manner of one who utters a +courtly compliment; but the lady pouted, and gave an impatient little +shrug of her shoulders. + +"You were late this morning, John," she remarked, after a pause. + +"Yes, Ada; I slept badly. Some little cerebral congestion, no doubt +due to over-stimulation of the centers of thought. I have been a +little disturbed in my mind." + +His sister stared across at him in astonishment. The Professor's +mental processes had hitherto been as regular as his habits. Twelve +years' continual intercourse had taught her that he lived in a serene +and rarefied atmosphere of scientific calm, high above the petty +emotions which affect humbler minds. + +"You are surprised, Ada," he remarked. "Well, I cannot wonder at it. +I should have been surprised myself if I had been told that I was so +sensitive to vascular influences. For, after all, all disturbances are +vascular if you probe them deep enough. I am thinking of getting +married." + +"Not Mrs. O'James" cried Ada Grey, laying down her egg-spoon. + +"My dear, you have the feminine quality of receptivity very remarkably +developed. Mrs. O'James is the lady in question." + +"But you know so little of her. The Esdailes themselves know so +little. She is really only an acquaintance, although she is staying at +The Lindens. Would it not be wise to speak to Mrs. Esdaile first, +John?" + +"I do not think, Ada, that Mrs. Esdaile is at all likely to say +anything which would materially affect my course of action. I have +given the matter due consideration. The scientific mind is slow at +arriving at conclusions, but having once formed them, it is not prone +to change. Matrimony is the natural condition of the human race. I +have, as you know, been so engaged in academical and other work, that I +have had no time to devote to merely personal questions. It is +different now, and I see no valid reason why I should forego this +opportunity of seeking a suitable helpmate." + +"And you are engaged?" + +"Hardly that, Ada. I ventured yesterday to indicate to the lady that I +was prepared to submit to the common lot of humanity. I shall wait +upon her after my morning lecture, and learn how far my proposals meet +with her acquiescence. But you frown, Ada!" + +His sister started, and made an effort to conceal her expression of +annoyance. She even stammered out some few words of congratulation, +but a vacant look had come into her brother's eyes, and he was +evidently not listening to her. + +"I am sure, John, that I wish you the happiness which you deserve. If +I hesitated at all, it is because I know how much is at stake, and +because the thing is so sudden, so unexpected." Her thin white hand +stole up to the black cross upon her bosom. "These are moments when we +need guidance, John. If I could persuade you to turn to spiritual----" + +The Professor waved the suggestion away with a deprecating hand. + +"It is useless to reopen that question," he said. "We cannot argue +upon it. You assume more than I can grant. I am forced to dispute +your premises. We have no common basis." + +His sister sighed. + +"You have no faith," she said. + +"I have faith in those great evolutionary forces which are leading the +human race to some unknown but elevated goal." + +"You believe in nothing." + +"On the contrary, my dear Ada, I believe in the differentiation of +protoplasm." + +She shook her head sadly. It was the one subject upon which she +ventured to dispute her brother's infallibility. + +"This is rather beside the question," remarked the Professor, folding +up his napkin. "If I am not mistaken, there is some possibility of +another matrimonial event occurring in the family. Eh, Ada? What!" + +His small eyes glittered with sly facetiousness as he shot a twinkle at +his sister. She sat very stiff, and traced patterns upon the cloth +with the sugar-tongs. + +"Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien----" said the Professor, sonorously. + +"Don't, John, don't!" cried Miss Ainslie Grey. + +"Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien," continued her brother inexorably, "is a +man who has already made his mark upon the science of the day. He is +my first and my most distinguished pupil. I assure you, Ada, that his +'Remarks upon the Bile-Pigments, with special reference to Urobilin,' +is likely to live as a classic. It is not too much to say that he has +revolutionised our views about urobilin." + +He paused, but his sister sat silent, with bent head and flushed +cheeks. The little ebony cross rose and fell with her hurried +breathings. + +"Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien has, as you know, the offer of the +physiological chair at Melbourne. He has been in Australia five years, +and has a brilliant future before him. To-day he leaves us for +Edinburgh, and in two months' time, he goes out to take over his new +duties. You know his feeling towards you. It, rests with you as to +whether he goes out alone. Speaking for myself, I cannot imagine any +higher mission for a woman of culture than to go through life in the +company of a man who is capable of such a research as that which Dr. +James M'Murdo O'Brien has brought to a successful conclusion." + +"He has not spoken to me," murmured the lady. + +"Ah, there are signs which are more subtle than speech," said her +brother, wagging his head. "But you are pale. Your vasomotor system +is excited. Your arterioles have contracted. Let me entreat you to +compose yourself. I think I hear the carriage. I fancy that you may +have a visitor this morning, Ada. You will excuse me now." + +With a quick glance at the clock he strode off into the hall, and +within a few minutes he was rattling in his quiet, well-appointed +brougham through the brick-lined streets of Birchespool. + +His lecture over, Professor Ainslie Grey paid a visit to his +laboratory, where he adjusted several scientific instruments, made a +note as to the progress of three separate infusions of bacteria, cut +half-a-dozen sections with a microtome, and finally resolved the +difficulties of seven different gentlemen, who were pursuing researches +in as many separate lines of inquiry. Having thus conscientiously and +methodically completed the routine of his duties, he returned to his +carriage and ordered the coachman to drive him to The Lindens. His +face as he drove was cold and impassive, but he drew his fingers from +time to time down his prominent chin with a jerky, twitchy movement. + +The Lindens was an old-fashioned, ivy-clad house which had once been in +the country, but was now caught in the long, red-brick feelers of the +growing city. It still stood back from the road in the privacy of its +own grounds. A winding path, lined with laurel bushes, led to the +arched and porticoed entrance. To the right was a lawn, and at the far +side, under the shadow of a hawthorn, a lady sat in a garden-chair with +a book in her hands. At the click of the gate she started, and the +Professor, catching sight of her, turned away from the door, and strode +in her direction. + +"What! won't you go in and see Mrs. Esdaile?" she asked, sweeping out +from under the shadow of the hawthorn. + +She was a small woman, strongly feminine, from the rich coils of her +light-coloured hair to the dainty garden slipper which peeped from +under her cream-tinted dress. One tiny well-gloved hand was +outstretched in greeting, while the other pressed a thick, +green-covered volume against her side. Her decision and quick, tactful +manner bespoke the mature woman of the world; but her upraised face had +preserved a girlish and even infantile expression of innocence in its +large, fearless, grey eyes, and sensitive, humorous mouth. Mrs. +O'James was a widow, and she was two-and-thirty years of age; but +neither fact could have been deduced from her appearance. + +"You will surely go in and see Mrs. Esdaile," she repeated, glancing up +at him with eyes which had in them something between a challenge and a +caress. + +"I did not come to see Mrs. Esdaile," he answered, with no relaxation +of his cold and grave manner; "I came to see you." + +"I am sure I should be highly honoured," she said, with just the +slightest little touch of brogue in her accent. "What are the students +to do without their Professor?" + +"I have already completed my academic duties. Take my arm, and we +shall walk in the sunshine. Surely we cannot wonder that Eastern +people should have made a deity of the sun. It is the great beneficent +force of Nature--man's ally against cold, sterility, and all that is +abhorrent to him. What were you reading?" + +"Hale's Matter and Life." + +The Professor raised his thick eyebrows. + +"Hale!" he said, and then again in a kind of whisper, "Hale!" + +"You differ from him?" she asked. + +"It is not I who differ from him. I am only a monad--a thing of no +moment. The whole tendency of the highest plane of modern thought +differs from him. He defends the indefensible. He is an excellent +observer, but a feeble reasoner. I should not recommend you to found +your conclusions upon Hale." + +"I must read Nature's Chronicle to counteract his pernicious +influence," said Mrs. O'James, with a soft, cooing laugh. + +Nature's Chronicle was one of the many books in which Professor Ainslie +Grey had enforced the negative doctrines of scientific agnosticism. + +"It is a faulty work," said he; "I cannot recommend it. I would rather +refer you to the standard writings of some of my older and more +eloquent colleagues." + +There was a pause in their talk as they paced up and down on the green, +velvet-like lawn in the genial sunshine. + +"Have you thought at all," he asked at last, "of the matter upon which +I spoke to you last night?" + +She said nothing, but walked by his side with her eyes averted and her +face aslant. + +"I would not hurry you unduly," he continued. "I know that it is a +matter which can scarcely be decided off-hand. In my own case, it cost +me some thought before I ventured to make the suggestion. I am not an +emotional man, but I am conscious in your presence of the great +evolutionary instinct which makes either sex the complement of the +other." + +"You believe in love, then?" she asked, with a twinkling, upward glance. + +"I am forced to." + +"And yet you can deny the soul?" + +"How far these questions are psychic and how far material is still sub +judice," said the Professor, with an air of toleration. "Protoplasm +may prove to be the physical basis of love as well as of life." + +"How inflexible you are!" she exclaimed; "you would draw love down to +the level of physics." + +"Or draw physics up to the level of love." + +"Come, that is much better," she cried, with her sympathetic laugh. +"That is really very pretty, and puts science in quite a delightful +light." + +Her eyes sparkled, and she tossed her chin with the pretty, wilful air +of a woman who is mistress of the situation. + +"I have reason to believe," said the Professor, "that my position here +will prove to be only a stepping-stone to some wider scene of +scientific activity. Yet, even here, my chair brings me in some +fifteen hundred pounds a year, which is supplemented by a few hundreds +from my books. I should therefore be in a position to provide you with +those comforts to which you are accustomed. So much for my pecuniary +position. As to my constitution, it has always been sound. I have +never suffered from any illness in my life, save fleeting attacks of +cephalalgia, the result of too prolonged a stimulation of the centres +of cerebration. My father and mother had no sign of any morbid +diathesis, but I will not conceal from you that my grandfather was +afflicted with podagra." + +Mrs. O'James looked startled. + +"Is that very serious?" she asked. + +"It is gout," said the Professor. + +"Oh, is that all? It sounded much worse than that." + +"It is a grave taint, but I trust that I shall not be a victim to +atavism. I have laid these facts before you because they are factors +which cannot be overlooked in forming your decision. May I ask now +whether you see your way to accepting my proposal?" + +He paused in his walk, and looked earnestly and expectantly down at her. + +A struggle was evidently going on in her mind. Her eyes were cast +down, her little slipper tapped the lawn, and her fingers played +nervously with her chatelain. Suddenly, with a sharp, quick gesture +which had in it something of ABANDON and recklessness, she held out her +hand to her companion. + +"I accept," she said. + +They were standing under the shadow of the hawthorn. He stooped +gravely down, and kissed her glove-covered fingers. + +"I trust that you may never have cause to regret your decision," he +said. + +"I trust that you never may," she cried, with a heaving breast. + +There were tears in her eyes, and her lips twitched with some strong +emotion. + +"Come into the sunshine again," said he. "It is the great restorative. +Your nerves are shaken. Some little congestion of the medulla and +pons. It is always instructive to reduce psychic or emotional +conditions to their physical equivalents. You feel that your anchor is +still firm in a bottom of ascertained fact." + +"But it is so dreadfully unromantic," said Mrs. O'James, with her old +twinkle. + +"Romance is the offspring of imagination and of ignorance. Where +science throws her calm, clear light there is happily no room for +romance." + +"But is not love romance?" she asked. + +"Not at all. Love has been taken away from the poets, and has been +brought within the domain of true science. It may prove to be one of +the great cosmic elementary forces. When the atom of hydrogen draws +the atom of chlorine towards it to form the perfected molecule of +hydrochloric acid, the force which it exerts may be intrinsically +similar to that which draws me to you. Attraction and repulsion appear +to be the primary forces. This is attraction." + +"And here is repulsion," said Mrs. O'James, as a stout, florid lady +came sweeping across the lawn in their direction. "So glad you have +come out, Mrs. Esdaile! Here is Professor Grey." + +"How do you do, Professor?" said the lady, with some little pomposity +of manner. "You were very wise to stay out here on so lovely a day. +Is it not heavenly?" + +"It is certainly very fine weather," the Professor answered. + +"Listen to the wind sighing in the trees!" cried Mrs. Esdaile, holding +up one finger. "It is Nature's lullaby. Could you not imagine it, +Professor Grey, to be the whisperings of angels?" + +"The idea had not occurred to me, madam." + +"Ah, Professor, I have always the same complaint against you. A want +of rapport with the deeper meanings of nature. Shall I say a want of +imagination. You do not feel an emotional thrill at the singing of +that thrush?" + +"I confess that I am not conscious of one, Mrs. Esdaile." + +"Or at the delicate tint of that background of leaves? See the rich +greens!" + +"Chlorophyll," murmured the Professor. + +"Science is so hopelessly prosaic. It dissects and labels, and loses +sight of the great things in its attention to the little ones. You +have a poor opinion of woman's intellect, Professor Grey. I think that +I have heard you say so." + +"It is a question of avoirdupois," said the Professor, closing his eyes +and shrugging his shoulders. "The female cerebrum averages two ounces +less in weight than the male. No doubt there are exceptions. Nature +is always elastic." + +"But the heaviest thing is not always the strongest," said Mrs. +O'James, laughing. "Isn't there a law of compensation in science? May +we not hope to make up in quality for what we lack in quantity?" + +"I think not," remarked the Professor, gravely. "But there is your +luncheon-gong. No, thank you, Mrs. Esdaile, I cannot stay. My +carriage is waiting. Good-bye. Good-bye, Mrs. O'James." + +He raised his hat and stalked slowly away among the laurel bushes. + +"He has no taste," said Mrs. Esdaile--"no eye for beauty." + +"On the contrary," Mrs. O'James answered, with a saucy little jerk of +the chin. "He has just asked me to be his wife." + + +As Professor Ainslie Grey ascended the steps of his house, the +hall-door opened and a dapper gentleman stepped briskly out. He was +somewhat sallow in the face, with dark, beady eyes, and a short, black +beard with an aggressive bristle. Thought and work had left their +traces upon his face, but he moved with the brisk activity of a man who +had not yet bade good-bye to his youth. + +"I'm in luck's way," he cried. "I wanted to see you." + +"Then come back into the library," said the Professor; "you must stay +and have lunch with us." + +The two men entered the hall, and the Professor led the way into his +private sanctum. He motioned his companion into an arm-chair. + +"I trust that you have been successful, O'Brien," said he. "I should +be loath to exercise any undue pressure upon my sister Ada; but I have +given her to understand that there is no one whom I should prefer for a +brother-in-law to my most brilliant scholar, the author of Some Remarks +upon the Bile-Pigments, with special reference to Urobilin." + +"You are very kind, Professor Grey--you have always been very kind," +said the other. "I approached Miss Grey upon the subject; she did not +say No." + +"She said Yes, then?" + +"No; she proposed to leave the matter open until my return from +Edinburgh. I go to-day, as you know, and I hope to commence my +research to-morrow." + +"On the comparative anatomy of the vermiform appendix, by James M'Murdo +O'Brien," said the Professor, sonorously. "It is a glorious subject--a +subject which lies at the very root of evolutionary philosophy." + +"Ah! she is the dearest girl," cried O'Brien, with a sudden little +spurt of Celtic enthusiasm--"she is the soul of truth and of honour." + +"The vermiform appendix----" began the Professor. + +"She is an angel from heaven," interrupted the other. "I fear that it +is my advocacy of scientific freedom in religious thought which stands +in my way with her." + +"You must not truckle upon that point. You must be true to your +convictions; let there be no compromise there." + +"My reason is true to agnosticism, and yet I am conscious of a void--a +vacuum. I had feelings at the old church at home between the scent of +the incense and the roll of the organ, such as I have never experienced +in the laboratory or the lecture-room." + +"Sensuous-purely sensuous," said the Professor, rubbing his chin. +"Vague hereditary tendencies stirred into life by the stimulation of +the nasal and auditory nerves." + +"Maybe so, maybe so," the younger man answered thoughtfully. "But this +was not what I wished to speak to you about. Before I enter your +family, your sister and you have a claim to know all that I can tell +you about my career. Of my worldly prospects I have already spoken to +you. There is only one point which I have omitted to mention. I am a +widower." + +The Professor raised his eyebrows. + +"This is news indeed," said he. + +"I married shortly after my arrival in Australia. Miss Thurston was +her name. I met her in society. It was a most unhappy match." + +Some painful emotion possessed him. His quick, expressive features +quivered, and his white hands tightened upon the arms of the chair. +The Professor turned away towards the window. + +"You are the best judge," he remarked "but I should not think that it +was necessary to go into details." + +"You have a right to know everything--you and Miss Grey. It is not a +matter on which I can well speak to her direct. Poor Jinny was the +best of women, but she was open to flattery, and liable to be misled by +designing persons. She was untrue to me, Grey. It is a hard thing to +say of the dead, but she was untrue to me. She fled to Auckland with a +man whom she had known before her marriage. The brig which carried +them foundered, and not a soul was saved." + +"This is very painful, O'Brien," said the Professor, with a deprecatory +motion of his hand. "I cannot see, however, how it affects your +relation to my sister." + +"I have eased my conscience," said O'Brien, rising from his chair; "I +have told you all that there is to tell. I should not like the story +to reach you through any lips but my own." + +"You are right, O'Brien. Your action has been most honourable and +considerate. But you are not to blame in the matter, save that perhaps +you showed a little precipitancy in choosing a life-partner without due +care and inquiry." + +O'Brien drew his hand across his eyes. + +"Poor girl!" he cried. "God help me, I love her still! But I must go." + +"You will lunch with us?" + +"No, Professor; I have my packing still to do. I have already bade +Miss Grey adieu. In two months I shall see you again." + +"You will probably find me a married man." + +"Married!" + +"Yes, I have been thinking of it." + +"My dear Professor, let me congratulate you with all my heart. I had +no idea. Who is the lady?" + +"Mrs. O'James is her name--a widow of the same nationality as yourself. +But to return to matters of importance, I should be very happy to see +the proofs of your paper upon the vermiform appendix. I may be able to +furnish you with material for a footnote or two." + +"Your assistance will be invaluable to me," said O'Brien, with +enthusiasm, and the two men parted in the hall. The Professor walked +back into the dining-room, where his sister was already seated at the +luncheon-table. + +"I shall be married at the registrar's," he remarked; "I should +strongly recommend you to do the same." + +Professor Ainslie Grey was as good as his word. A fortnight's +cessation of his classes gave him an opportunity which was too good to +let pass. Mrs. O'James was an orphan, without relations and almost +without friends in the country. There was no obstacle in the way of a +speedy wedding. They were married, accordingly, in the quietest manner +possible, and went off to Cambridge together, where the Professor and +his charming wife were present at several academic observances, and +varied the routine of their honeymoon by incursions into biological +laboratories and medical libraries. Scientific friends were loud in +their congratulations, not only upon Mrs. Grey's beauty, but upon the +unusual quickness and intelligence which she displayed in discussing +physiological questions. The Professor was himself astonished at the +accuracy of her information. "You have a remarkable range of knowledge +for a woman, Jeannette," he remarked upon more than one occasion. He +was even prepared to admit that her cerebrum might be of the normal +weight. + +One foggy, drizzling morning they returned to Birchespool, for the next +day would re-open the session, and Professor Ainslie Grey prided +himself upon having never once in his life failed to appear in his +lecture-room at the very stroke of the hour. Miss Ada Grey welcomed +them with a constrained cordiality, and handed over the keys of office +to the new mistress. Mrs. Grey pressed her warmly to remain, but she +explained that she had already accepted an invitation which would +engage her for some months. The same evening she departed for the +south of England. + +A couple of days later the maid carried a card just after breakfast +into the library where the Professor sat revising his morning lecture. +It announced the re-arrival of Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien. Their +meeting was effusively genial on the part of the younger man, and +coldly precise on that of his former teacher. + +"You see there have been changes," said the Professor. + +"So I heard. Miss Grey told me in her letters, and I read the notice +in the British Medical Journal. So it's really married you are. How +quickly and quietly you have managed it all!" + +"I am constitutionally averse to anything in the nature of show or +ceremony. My wife is a sensible woman--I may even go the length of +saying that, for a woman, she is abnormally sensible. She quite agreed +with me in the course which I have adopted." + +"And your research on Vallisneria?" + +"This matrimonial incident has interrupted it, but I have resumed my +classes, and we shall soon be quite in harness again." + +"I must see Miss Grey before I leave England. We have corresponded, +and I think that all will be well. She must come out with me. I don't +think I could go without her." + +The Professor shook his head. + +"Your nature is not so weak as you pretend," he said. "Questions of +this sort are, after all, quite subordinate to the great duties of +life." + +O'Brien smiled. + +"You would have me take out my Celtic soul and put in a Saxon one," he +said. "Either my brain is too small or my heart is too big. But when +may I call and pay my respects to Mrs. Grey? Will she be at home this +afternoon?" + +"She is at home now. Come into the morning-room. She will be glad to +make your acquaintance." + +They walked across the linoleum-paved hall. The Professor opened the +door of the room, and walked in, followed by his friend. Mrs. Grey was +sitting in a basket-chair by the window, light and fairy-like in a +loose-flowing, pink morning-gown. Seeing a visitor, she rose and swept +towards them. The Professor heard a dull thud behind him. O'Brien had +fallen back into a chair, with his hand pressed tight to his side. + +"Jinny!" he gasped--"Jinny!" + +Mrs. Grey stopped dead in her advance, and stared at him with a face +from which every expression had been struck out, save one of +astonishment and horror. Then with a sharp intaking of the breath she +reeled, and would have fallen had the Professor not thrown his long, +nervous arm round her. + +"Try this sofa," said he. + +She sank back among the cushions with the same white, cold, dead look +upon her face. The Professor stood with his back to the empty +fireplace and glanced from the one to the other. + +"So, O'Brien," he said at last, "you have already made the acquaintance +of my wife!" + +"Your wife," cried his friend hoarsely. "She is no wife of yours. God +help me, she is MY wife." + +The Professor stood rigidly upon the hearthrug. His long, thin fingers +were intertwined, and his head sunk a little forward. His two +companions had eyes only for each other. + +"Jinny!" said he. + +"James!" + +"How could you leave me so, Jinny? How could you have the heart to do +it? I thought you were dead. I mourned for your death--ay, and you +have made me mourn for you living. You have withered my life." + +She made no answer, but lay back among her cushions with her eyes still +fixed upon him. + +"Why do you not speak?" + +"Because you are right, James. I HAVE treated you cruelly--shamefully. +But it is not as bad as you think." + +"You fled with De Horta." + +"No, I did not. At the last moment my better nature prevailed. He +went alone. But I was ashamed to come back after what I had written to +you. I could not face you. I took passage alone to England under a +new name, and here I have lived ever since. It seemed to me that I was +beginning life again. I knew that you thought I was drowned. Who +could have dreamed that fate would throw us together again! When the +Professor asked me----" + +She stopped and gave a gasp for breath. + +"You are faint," said the Professor--"keep the head low; it aids the +cerebral circulation." He flattened down the cushion. "I am sorry to +leave you, O'Brien; but I have my class duties to look to. Possibly I +may find you here when I return." + +With a grim and rigid face he strode out of the room. Not one of the +three hundred students who listened to his lecture saw any change in +his manner and appearance, or could have guessed that the austere +gentleman in front of them had found out at last how hard it is to rise +above one's humanity. The lecture over, he performed his routine +duties in the laboratory, and then drove back to his own house. He did +not enter by the front door, but passed through the garden to the +folding glass casement which led out of the morning-room. As he +approached he heard his wife's voice and O'Brien's in loud and animated +talk. He paused among the rose-bushes, uncertain whether to interrupt +them or no. Nothing was further from his nature than play the +eavesdropper; but as he stood, still hesitating, words fell upon his +ear which struck him rigid and motionless. + +"You are still my wife, Jinny," said O'Brien; "I forgive you from the +bottom of my heart. I love you, and I have never ceased to love you, +though you had forgotten me." + +"No, James, my heart was always in Melbourne. I have always been +yours. I thought that it was better for you that I should seem to be +dead." + +"You must choose between us now, Jinny. If you determine to remain +here, I shall not open my lips. There shall be no scandal. If, on the +other hand, you come with me, it's little I care about the world's +opinion. Perhaps I am as much to blame as you. I thought too much of +my work and too little of my wife." + +The Professor heard the cooing, caressing laugh which he knew so well. + +"I shall go with you, James," she said. + +"And the Professor----?" + +"The poor Professor! But he will not mind much, James; he has no +heart." + +"We must tell him our resolution." + +"There is no need," said Professor Ainslie Grey, stepping in through +the open casement. "I have overheard the latter part of your +conversation. I hesitated to interrupt you before you came to a +conclusion." + +O'Brien stretched out his hand and took that of the woman. They stood +together with the sunshine on their faces. The Professor paused at the +casement with his hands behind his back, and his long black shadow fell +between them. + +"You have come to a wise decision," said he. "Go back to Australia +together, and let what has passed be blotted out of your lives." + +"But you--you----" stammered O'Brien. + +The Professor waved his hand. + +"Never trouble about me," he said. + +The woman gave a gasping cry. + +"What can I do or say?" she wailed. "How could I have foreseen this? +I thought my old life was dead. But it has come back again, with all +its hopes and its desires. What can I say to you, Ainslie? I have +brought shame and disgrace upon a worthy man. I have blasted your +life. How you must hate and loathe me! I wish to God that I had never +been born!" + +"I neither hate nor loathe you, Jeannette," said the Professor, +quietly. "You are wrong in regretting your birth, for you have a +worthy mission before you in aiding the life-work of a man who has +shown himself capable of the highest order of scientific research. I +cannot with justice blame you personally for what has occurred. How +far the individual monad is to be held responsible for hereditary and +engrained tendencies, is a question upon which science has not yet said +her last word." + +He stood with his finger-tips touching, and his body inclined as one +who is gravely expounding a difficult and impersonal subject. O'Brien +had stepped forward to say something, but the other's attitude and +manner froze the words upon his lips. Condolence or sympathy would be +an impertinence to one who could so easily merge his private griefs in +broad questions of abstract philosophy. + +"It is needless to prolong the situation," the Professor continued, in +the same measured tones. "My brougham stands at the door. I beg that +you will use it as your own. Perhaps it would be as well that you +should leave the town without unnecessary delay. Your things, +Jeannette, shall be forwarded." + +O'Brien hesitated with a hanging head. + +"I hardly dare offer you my hand," he said. + +"On the contrary. I think that of the three of us you come best out of +the affair. You have nothing to be ashamed of." + +"Your sister----" + +"I shall see that the matter is put to her in its true light. +Good-bye! Let me have a copy of your recent research. Good-bye, +Jeannette!" + +"Good-bye!" + +Their hands met, and for one short moment their eyes also. It was only +a glance, but for the first and last time the woman's intuition cast a +light for itself into the dark places of a strong man's soul. She gave +a little gasp, and her other hand rested for an instant, as white and +as light as thistle-down, upon his shoulder. + +"James, James!" she cried. "Don't you see that he is stricken to the +heart?" + +He turned her quietly away from him. + +"I am not an emotional man," he said. "I have my duties--my research on +Vallisneria. The brougham is there. Your cloak is in the hall. Tell +John where you wish to be driven. He will bring you anything you need. +Now go." + +His last two words were so sudden, so volcanic, in such contrast to his +measured voice and mask-like face, that they swept the two away from +him. He closed the door behind them and paced slowly up and down the +room. Then he passed into the library and looked out over the wire +blind. The carriage was rolling away. He caught a last glimpse of the +woman who had been his wife. He saw the feminine droop of her head, +and the curve of her beautiful throat. + +Under some foolish, aimless impulse, he took a few quick steps towards +the door. Then he turned, and throwing himself into his study-chair he +plunged back into his work. + + +There was little scandal about this singular domestic incident. The +Professor had few personal friends, and seldom went into society. His +marriage had been so quiet that most of his colleagues had never ceased +to regard him as a bachelor. Mrs. Esdaile and a few others might talk, +but their field for gossip was limited, for they could only guess +vaguely at the cause of this sudden separation. + +The Professor was as punctual as ever at his classes, and as zealous in +directing the laboratory work of those who studied under him. His own +private researches were pushed on with feverish energy. It was no +uncommon thing for his servants, when they came down of a morning, to +hear the shrill scratchings of his tireless pen, or to meet him on the +staircase as he ascended, grey and silent, to his room. In vain his +friends assured him that such a life must undermine his health. He +lengthened his hours until day and night were one long, ceaseless task. + +Gradually under this discipline a change came over his appearance. His +features, always inclined to gauntness, became even sharper and more +pronounced. There were deep lines about his temples and across his +brow. His cheek was sunken and his complexion bloodless. His knees +gave under him when he walked; and once when passing out of his +lecture-room he fell and had to be assisted to his carriage. + +This was just before the end of the session and soon after the holidays +commenced the professors who still remained in Birchespool were shocked +to hear that their brother of the chair of physiology had sunk so low +that no hopes could be entertained of his recovery. Two eminent +physicians had consulted over his case without being able to give a +name to the affection from which he suffered. A steadily decreasing +vitality appeared to be the only symptom--a bodily weakness which left +the mind unclouded. He was much interested himself in his own case, +and made notes of his subjective sensations as an aid to diagnosis. Of +his approaching end he spoke in his usual unemotional and somewhat +pedantic fashion. "It is the assertion," he said, "of the liberty of +the individual cell as opposed to the cell-commune. It is the +dissolution of a co-operative society. The process is one of great +interest." + +And so one grey morning his co-operative society dissolved. Very +quietly and softly he sank into his eternal sleep. His two physicians +felt some slight embarrassment when called upon to fill in his +certificate. + +"It is difficult to give it a name," said one. + +"Very," said the other. + +"If he were not such an unemotional man, I should have said that he had +died from some sudden nervous shock--from, in fact, what the vulgar +would call a broken heart." + +"I don't think poor Grey was that sort of a man at all." + +"Let us call it cardiac, anyhow," said the older physician. + +So they did so. + + + + +THE CASE OF LADY SANNOX. + +The relations between Douglas Stone and the notorious Lady Sannox were +very well known both among the fashionable circles of which she was a +brilliant member, and the scientific bodies which numbered him among +their most illustrious confreres. There was naturally, therefore, a +very widespread interest when it was announced one morning that the +lady had absolutely and for ever taken the veil, and that the world +would see her no more. When, at the very tail of this rumour, there +came the assurance that the celebrated operating surgeon, the man of +steel nerves, had been found in the morning by his valet, seated on one +side of his bed, smiling pleasantly upon the universe, with both legs +jammed into one side of his breeches and his great brain about as +valuable as a cap full of porridge, the matter was strong enough to +give quite a little thrill of interest to folk who had never hoped that +their jaded nerves were capable of such a sensation. + +Douglas Stone in his prime was one of the most remarkable men in +England. Indeed, he could hardly be said to have ever reached his +prime, for he was but nine-and-thirty at the time of this little +incident. Those who knew him best were aware that, famous as he was as +a surgeon, he might have succeeded with even greater rapidity in any of +a dozen lines of life. He could have cut his way to fame as a soldier, +struggled to it as an explorer, bullied for it in the courts, or built +it out of stone and iron as an engineer. He was born to be great, for +he could plan what another man dare not do, and he could do what +another man dare not plan. In surgery none could follow him. His +nerve, his judgment, his intuition, were things apart. Again and again +his knife cut away death, but grazed the very springs of life in doing +it, until his assistants were as white as the patient. His energy, his +audacity, his full-blooded self-confidence--does not the memory of them +still linger to the south of Marylebone Road and the north of Oxford +Street? + +His vices were as magnificent as his virtues, and infinitely more +picturesque. Large as was his income, and it was the third largest of +all professional men in London, it was far beneath the luxury of his +living. Deep in his complex nature lay a rich vein of sensualism, at +the sport of which he placed all the prizes of his life. The eye, the +ear, the touch, the palate--all were his masters. The bouquet of old +vintages, the scent of rare exotics, the curves and tints of the +daintiest potteries of Europe--it was to these that the quick-running +stream of gold was transformed. And then there came his sudden mad +passion for Lady Sannox, when a single interview with two challenging +glances and a whispered word set him ablaze. She was the loveliest +woman in London, and the only one to him. He was one of the handsomest +men in London, but not the only one to her. She had a liking for new +experiences, and was gracious to most men who wooed her. It may have +been cause or it may have been effect that Lord Sannox looked fifty, +though he was but six-and-thirty. + +He was a quiet, silent, neutral-tinted man, this lord, with thin lips +and heavy eyelids, much given to gardening, and full of home-like +habits. He had at one time been fond of acting, had even rented a +theatre in London, and on its boards had first seen Miss Marion Dawson, +to whom he had offered his hand, his title, and the third of a county. +Since his marriage this early hobby had become distasteful to him. +Even in private theatricals it was no longer possible to persuade him +to exercise the talent which he had often shown that he possessed. He +was happier with a spud and a watering-can among his orchids and +chrysanthemums. + +It was quite an interesting problem whether he was absolutely devoid of +sense, or miserably wanting in spirit. Did he know his lady's ways and +condone them, or was he a mere blind, doting fool? It was a point to +be discussed over the teacups in snug little drawing-rooms, or with the +aid of a cigar in the bow windows of clubs. Bitter and plain were the +comments among men upon his conduct. There was but one who had a good +word to say for him, and he was the most silent member in the +smoking-room. He had seen him break in a horse at the university, and +it seemed to have left an impression upon his mind. + +But when Douglas Stone became the favourite, all doubts as to Lord +Sannox's knowledge or ignorance were set for ever at rest. There, was +no subterfuge about Stone. In his high-handed, impetuous fashion, he +set all caution and discretion at defiance. The scandal became +notorious. A learned body intimated that his name had been struck from +the list of its vice-presidents. Two friends implored him to consider +his professional credit. He cursed them all three, and spent forty +guineas on a bangle to take with him to the lady. He was at her house +every evening, and she drove in his carriage in the afternoons. There +was not an attempt on either side to conceal their relations; but there +came at last a little incident to interrupt them. + +It was a dismal winter's night, very cold and gusty, with the wind +whooping in the chimneys and blustering against the window-panes. A +thin spatter of rain tinkled on the glass with each fresh sough of the +gale, drowning for the instant the dull gurgle and drip from the eves. +Douglas Stone had finished his dinner, and sat by his fire in the +study, a glass of rich port upon the malachite table at his elbow. As +he raised it to his lips, he held it up against the lamplight, and +watched with the eye of a connoisseur the tiny scales of beeswing which +floated in its rich ruby depths. The fire, as it spurted up, threw +fitful lights upon his bold, clear-cut face, with its widely-opened +grey eyes, its thick and yet firm lips, and the deep, square jaw, which +had something Roman in its strength and its animalism. He smiled from +time to time as he nestled back in his luxurious chair. Indeed, he had +a right to feel well pleased, for, against the advice of six +colleagues, he had performed an operation that day of which only two +cases were on record, and the result had been brilliant beyond all +expectation. No other man in London would have had the daring to plan, +or the skill to execute, such a heroic measure. + +But he had promised Lady Sannox to see her that evening and it was +already half-past eight. His hand was outstretched to the bell to +order the carriage when he heard the dull thud of the knocker. An +instant later there was the shuffling of feet in the hall, and the +sharp closing of a door. + +"A patient to see you, sir, in the consulting-room, said the butler. + +"About himself?" + +"No, sir; I think he wants you to go out." + +"It is too late," cried Douglas Stone peevishly. "I won't go." + +"This is his card, sir." + +The butler presented it upon the gold salver which had been given to +his master by the wife of a Prime Minister. + +"'Hamil Ali, Smyrna.' Hum! The fellow is a Turk, I suppose." + +"Yes, sir. He seems as if he came from abroad, sir. And he's in a +terrible way." + +"Tut, tut! I have an engagement. I must go somewhere else. But I'll +see him. Show him in here, Pim." + +A few moments later the butler swung open the door and ushered in a +small and decrepit man, who walked with a bent back and with the +forward push of the face and blink of the eyes which goes with extreme +short sight. His face was swarthy, and his hair and beard of the +deepest black. In one hand he held a turban of white muslin striped +with red, in the other a small chamois leather bag. + +"Good-evening," said Douglas Stone, when the butler had closed the +door. "You speak English, I presume?" + +"Yes, sir. I am from Asia Minor, but I speak English when I speak +slow." + +"You wanted me to go out, I understand?" + +"Yes, sir. I wanted very much that you should see my wife." + +"I could come in the morning, but I have an engagement which prevents +me from seeing your wife to-night." + +The Turk's answer was a singular one. He pulled the string which +closed the mouth of the chamois leather bag, and poured a flood of gold +on to the table. + +"There are one hundred pounds there," said he, "and I promise you that +it will not take you an hour. I have a cab ready at the door." + +Douglas Stone glanced at his watch. An hour would not make it too late +to visit Lady Sannox. He had been there later. And the fee was an +extraordinarily high one. He had been pressed by his creditors lately, +and he could not afford to let such a chance pass. He would go. + +"What is the case?" he asked. + +"Oh, it is so sad a one! So sad a one! You have not, perhaps, heard +of the daggers of the Almohades?" + +"Never." + +"Ah, they are Eastern daggers of a great age and of a singular shape, +with the hilt like what you call a stirrup. I am a curiosity dealer, +you understand, and that is why I have come to England from Smyrna, but +next week I go back once more. Many things I brought with me, and I +have a few things left, but among them, to my sorrow, is one of these +daggers." + +"You will remember that I have an appointment, sir," said the surgeon, +with some irritation. "Pray confine yourself to the necessary details." + +"You will see that it is necessary. To-day my wife fell down in a +faint in the room in which I keep my wares, and she cut her lower lip +upon this cursed dagger of Almohades." + +"I see," said Douglas Stone, rising. "And you wish me to dress the +wound?" + +"No, no, it is worse than that." + +"What then?" + +"These daggers are poisoned." + +"Poisoned!" + +"Yes, and there is no man, East or West, who can tell now what is the +poison or what the cure. But all that is known I know, for my father +was in this trade before me, and we have had much to do with these +poisoned weapons." + +"What are the symptoms?" + +"Deep sleep, and death in thirty hours." + +"And you say there is no cure. Why then should you pay me this +considerable fee?" + +"No drug can cure, but the knife may." + +"And how?" + +"The poison is slow of absorption. It remains for hours in the wound." + +"Washing, then, might cleanse it?" + +"No more than in a snake-bite. It is too subtle and too deadly." + +"Excision of the wound, then?" + +"That is it. If it be on the finger, take the finger off. So said my +father always. But think of where this wound is, and that it is my +wife. It is dreadful!" + +But familiarity with such grim matters may take the finer edge from a +man's sympathy. To Douglas Stone this was already an interesting case, +and he brushed aside as irrelevant the feeble objections of the husband. + +"It appears to be that or nothing," said he brusquely. "It is better +to lose a lip than a life." + +"Ah, yes, I know that you are right. Well, well, it is kismet, and +must be faced. I have the cab, and you will come with me and do this +thing." + +Douglas Stone took his case of bistouries from a drawer, and placed it +with a roll of bandage and a compress of lint in his pocket. He must +waste no more time if he were to see Lady Sannox. + +"I am ready," said he, pulling on his overcoat. "Will you take a glass +of wine before you go out into this cold air?" + +His visitor shrank away, with a protesting hand upraised. + +"You forget that I am a Mussulman, and a true follower of the Prophet," +said he. "But tell me what is the bottle of green glass which you have +placed in your pocket?" + +"It is chloroform." + +"Ah, that also is forbidden to us. It is a spirit, and we make no use +of such things." + +"What! You would allow your wife to go through an operation without an +anaesthetic?" + +"Ah! she will feel nothing, poor soul. The deep sleep has already come +on, which is the first working of the poison. And then I have given +her of our Smyrna opium. Come, sir, for already an hour has passed." + +As they stepped out into the darkness, a sheet of rain was driven in +upon their faces, and the hall lamp, which dangled from the arm of a +marble caryatid, went out with a fluff. Pim, the butler, pushed the +heavy door to, straining hard with his shoulder against the wind, while +the two men groped their way towards the yellow glare which showed +where the cab was waiting. An instant later they were rattling upon +their journey. + +"Is it far?" asked Douglas Stone. + +"Oh, no. We have a very little quiet place off the Euston Road." + +The surgeon pressed the spring of his repeater and listened to the +little tings which told him the hour. It was a quarter past nine. He +calculated the distances, and the short time which it would take him to +perform so trivial an operation. He ought to reach Lady Sannox by ten +o'clock. Through the fogged windows he saw the blurred gas-lamps +dancing past, with occasionally the broader glare of a shop front. The +rain was pelting and rattling upon the leathern top of the carriage and +the wheels swashed as they rolled through puddle and mud. Opposite to +him the white headgear of his companion gleamed faintly through the +obscurity. The surgeon felt in his pockets and arranged his needles, +his ligatures and his safety-pins, that no time might be wasted when +they arrived. He chafed with impatience and drummed his foot upon the +floor. + +But the cab slowed down at last and pulled up. In an instant Douglas +Stone was out, and the Smyrna merchant's toe was at his very heel. + +"You can wait," said he to the driver. + +It was a mean-looking house in a narrow and sordid street. The +surgeon, who knew his London well, cast a swift glance into the +shadows, but there was nothing distinctive--no shop, no movement, +nothing but a double line of dull, flat-faced houses, a double stretch +of wet flagstones which gleamed in the lamplight, and a double rush of +water in the gutters which swirled and gurgled towards the sewer +gratings. The door which faced them was blotched and discoloured, and +a faint light in the fan pane above it served to show the dust and the +grime which covered it. Above, in one of the bedroom windows, there +was a dull yellow glimmer. The merchant knocked loudly, and, as he +turned his dark face towards the light, Douglas Stone could see that it +was contracted with anxiety. A bolt was drawn, and an elderly woman +with a taper stood in the doorway, shielding the thin flame with her +gnarled hand. + +"Is all well?" gasped the merchant. + +"She is as you left her, sir." + +"She has not spoken?" + +"No; she is in a deep sleep." + +The merchant closed the door, and Douglas Stone walked down the narrow +passage, glancing about him in some surprise as he did so. There was +no oilcloth, no mat, no hat-rack. Deep grey dust and heavy festoons of +cobwebs met his eyes everywhere. Following the old woman up the +winding stair, his firm footfall echoed harshly through the silent +house. There was no carpet. + +The bedroom was on the second landing. Douglas Stone followed the old +nurse into it, with the merchant at his heels. Here, at least, there +was furniture and to spare. The floor was littered and the corners +piled with Turkish cabinets, inlaid tables, coats of chain mail, +strange pipes, and grotesque weapons. A single small lamp stood upon a +bracket on the wall. Douglas Stone took it down, and picking his way +among the lumber, walked over to a couch in the corner, on which lay a +woman dressed in the Turkish fashion, with yashmak and veil. The lower +part of the face was exposed, and the surgeon saw a jagged cut which +zigzagged along the border of the under lip. + +"You will forgive the yashmak," said the Turk. "You know our views +about woman in the East." + +But the surgeon was not thinking about the yashmak. This was no longer +a woman to him. It was a case. He stooped and examined the wound +carefully. + +"There are no signs of irritation," said he. "We might delay the +operation until local symptoms develop." + +The husband wrung his hands in incontrollable agitation. + +"Oh! sir, sir!" he cried. "Do not trifle. You do not know. It is +deadly. I know, and I give you my assurance that an operation is +absolutely necessary. Only the knife can save her." + +"And yet I am inclined to wait," said Douglas Stone. + +"That is enough!" the Turk cried, angrily. "Every minute is of +importance, and I cannot stand here and see my wife allowed to sink. +It only remains for me to give you my thanks for having come, and to +call in some other surgeon before it is too late." + +Douglas Stone hesitated. To refund that hundred pounds was no pleasant +matter. But of course if he left the case he must return the money. +And if the Turk were right and the woman died, his position before a +coroner might be an embarrassing one. + +"You have had personal experience of this poison?" he asked. + +"I have." + +"And you assure me that an operation is needful." + +"I swear it by all that I hold sacred." + +"The disfigurement will be frightful." + +"I can understand that the mouth will not be a pretty one to kiss." + +Douglas Stone turned fiercely upon the man. The speech was a brutal +one. But the Turk has his own fashion of talk and of thought, and +there was no time for wrangling. Douglas Stone drew a bistoury from +his case, opened it and felt the keen straight edge with his +forefinger. Then he held the lamp closer to the bed. Two dark eyes +were gazing up at him through the slit in the yashmak. They were all +iris, and the pupil was hardly to be seen. + +"You have given her a very heavy dose of opium." + +"Yes, she has had a good dose." + +He glanced again at the dark eyes which looked straight at his own. +They were dull and lustreless, but, even as he gazed, a little shifting +sparkle came into them, and the lips quivered. + +"She is not absolutely unconscious," said he. + +"Would it not be well to use the knife while it would be painless?" + +The same thought had crossed the surgeon's mind. He grasped the +wounded lip with his forceps, and with two swift cuts he took out a +broad V-shaped piece. The woman sprang up on the couch with a dreadful +gurgling scream. Her covering was torn from her face. It was a face +that he knew. In spite of that protruding upper lip and that slobber +of blood, it was a face that he knew. She kept on putting her hand up +to the gap and screaming. Douglas Stone sat down at the foot of the +couch with his knife and his forceps. The room was whirling round, and +he had felt something go like a ripping seam behind his ear. A +bystander would have said that his face was the more ghastly of the +two. As in a dream, or as if he had been looking at something at the +play, he was conscious that the Turk's hair and beard lay upon the +table, and that Lord Sannox was leaning against the wall with his hand +to his side, laughing silently. The screams had died away now, and the +dreadful head had dropped back again upon the pillow, but Douglas Stone +still sat motionless, and Lord Sannox still chuckled quietly to himself. + +"It was really very necessary for Marion, this operation," said he, +"not physically, but morally, you know, morally." + +Douglas Stone stooped forwards and began to play with the fringe of the +coverlet. His knife tinkled down upon the ground, but he still held +the forceps and something more. + +"I had long intended to make a little example," said Lord Sannox, +suavely. "Your note of Wednesday miscarried, and I have it here in my +pocket-book. I took some pains in carrying out my idea. The wound, by +the way, was from nothing more dangerous than my signet ring." + +He glanced keenly at his silent companion, and cocked the small +revolver which he held in his coat pocket. But Douglas Stone was still +picking at the coverlet. + +"You see you have kept your appointment after all," said Lord Sannox. + +And at that Douglas Stone began to laugh. He laughed long and loudly. +But Lord Sannox did not laugh now. Something like fear sharpened and +hardened his features. He walked from the room, and he walked on +tiptoe. The old woman was waiting outside. + +"Attend to your mistress when she awakes," said Lord Sannox. + +Then he went down to the street. The cab was at the door, and the +driver raised his hand to his hat. + +"John," said Lord Sannox, "you will take the doctor home first. He +will want leading downstairs, I think. Tell his butler that he has +been taken ill at a case." + +"Very good, sir." + +"Then you can take Lady Sannox home." + +"And how about yourself, sir?" + +"Oh, my address for the next few months will be Hotel di Roma, Venice. +Just see that the letters are sent on. And tell Stevens to exhibit all +the purple chrysanthemums next Monday and to wire me the result." + + + + +A QUESTION OF DIPLOMACY. + +The Foreign Minister was down with the gout. For a week he had been +confined to the house, and he had missed two Cabinet Councils at a time +when the pressure upon his department was severe. It is true that he +had an excellent undersecretary and an admirable staff, but the +Minister was a man of such ripe experience and of such proven sagacity +that things halted in his absence. When his firm hand was at the wheel +the great ship of State rode easily and smoothly upon her way; when it +was removed she yawed and staggered until twelve British editors rose +up in their omniscience and traced out twelve several courses, each of +which was the sole and only path to safety. Then it was that the +Opposition said vain things, and that the harassed Prime Minister +prayed for his absent colleague. + +The Foreign Minister sat in his dressing-room in the great house in +Cavendish Square. It was May, and the square garden shot up like a +veil of green in front of his window, but, in spite of the sunshine, a +fire crackled and sputtered in the grate of the sick-room. In a +deep-red plush armchair sat the great statesman, his head leaning back +upon a silken pillow, one foot stretched forward and supported upon a +padded rest. His deeply-lined, finely-chiselled face and slow-moving, +heavily-pouched eyes were turned upwards towards the carved and painted +ceiling, with that inscrutable expression which had been the despair +and the admiration of his Continental colleagues upon the occasion of +the famous Congress when he had made his first appearance in the arena +of European diplomacy. Yet at the present moment his capacity for +hiding his emotions had for the instant failed him, for about the lines +of his strong, straight mouth and the puckers of his broad, overhanging +forehead, there were sufficient indications of the restlessness and +impatience which consumed him. + +And indeed there was enough to make a man chafe, for he had much to +think of and yet was bereft of the power of thought. There was, for +example, that question of the Dobrutscha and the navigation of the +mouths of the Danube which was ripe for settlement. The Russian +Chancellor had sent a masterly statement upon the subject, and it was +the pet ambition of our Minister to answer it in a worthy fashion. +Then there was the blockade of Crete, and the British fleet lying off +Cape Matapan, waiting for instructions which might change the course of +European history. And there were those three unfortunate Macedonian +tourists, whose friends were momentarily expecting to receive their +ears or their fingers in default of the exorbitant ransom which had +been demanded. They must be plucked out of those mountains, by force +or by diplomacy, or an outraged public would vent its wrath upon +Downing Street. All these questions pressed for a solution, and yet +here was the Foreign Minister of England, planted in an arm-chair, with +his whole thoughts and attention riveted upon the ball of his right +toe! It was humiliating--horribly humiliating! His reason revolted at +it. He had been a respecter of himself, a respecter of his own will; +but what sort of a machine was it which could be utterly thrown out of +gear by a little piece of inflamed gristle? He groaned and writhed +among his cushions. + +But, after all, was it quite impossible that he should go down to the +House? Perhaps the doctor was exaggerating the situation. There was a +Cabinet Council that day. He glanced at his watch. It must be nearly +over by now. But at least he might perhaps venture to drive down as +far as Westminster. He pushed back the little round table with its +bristle of medicine-bottles, and levering himself up with a hand upon +either arm of the chair, he clutched a thick oak stick and hobbled +slowly across the room. For a moment as he moved, his energy of mind +and body seemed to return to him. The British fleet should sail from +Matapan. Pressure should be brought to bear upon the Turks. The +Greeks should be shown--Ow! In an instant the Mediterranean was +blotted out, and nothing remained but that huge, undeniable, intrusive, +red-hot toe. He staggered to the window and rested his left hand upon +the ledge, while he propped himself upon his stick with his right. +Outside lay the bright, cool, square garden, a few well-dressed +passers-by, and a single, neatly-appointed carriage, which was driving +away from his own door. His quick eye caught the coat-of-arms on the +panel, and his lips set for a moment and his bushy eyebrows gathered +ominously with a deep furrow between them. He hobbled back to his seat +and struck the gong which stood upon the table. + +"Your mistress!" said he as the serving-man entered. + +It was clear that it was impossible to think of going to the House. +The shooting up his leg warned him that his doctor had not +overestimated the situation. But he had a little mental worry now +which had for the moment eclipsed his physical ailments. He tapped the +ground impatiently with his stick until the door of the dressing-room +swung open, and a tall, elegant lady of rather more than middle age +swept into the chamber. Her hair was touched with grey, but her calm, +sweet face had all the freshness of youth, and her gown of green shot +plush, with a sparkle of gold passementerie at her bosom and shoulders, +showed off the lines of her fine figure to their best advantage. + +"You sent for me, Charles?" + +"Whose carriage was that which drove away just now?" + +"Oh, you've been up!" she cried, shaking an admonitory forefinger. +"What an old dear it is! How can you be so rash? What am I to say to +Sir William when he comes? You know that he gives up his cases when +they are insubordinate." + +"In this instance the case may give him up," said the Minister, +peevishly; "but I must beg, Clara, that you will answer my question." + +"Oh! the carriage! It must have been Lord Arthur Sibthorpe's." + +"I saw the three chevrons upon the panel," muttered the invalid. + +His lady had pulled herself a little straighter and opened her large +blue eyes. + +"Then why ask?" she said. "One might almost think, Charles, that you +were laying a trap! Did you expect that I should deceive you? You +have not had your lithia powder." + +"For Heaven's sake, leave it alone! I asked because I was surprised +that Lord Arthur should call here. I should have fancied, Clara, that +I had made myself sufficiently clear on that point. Who received him?" + +"I did. That is, I and Ida." + +"I will not have him brought into contact with Ida. I do not approve +of it. The matter has gone too far already." + +Lady Clara seated herself on a velvet-topped footstool, and bent her +stately figure over the Minister's hand, which she patted softly +between her own. + +"Now you have said it, Charles," said she. "It has gone too far--I +give you my word, dear, that I never suspected it until it was past all +mending. I may be to blame--no doubt I am; but it was all so sudden. +The tail end of the season and a week at Lord Donnythorne's. That was +all. But oh! Charlie, she loves him so, and she is our only one! How +can we make her miserable?" + +"Tut, tut!" cried the Minister impatiently, slapping on the plush arm +of his chair. "This is too much. I tell you, Clara, I give you my +word, that all my official duties, all the affairs of this great +empire, do not give me the trouble that Ida does." + +"But she is our only one, Charles." + +"The more reason that she should not make a mesalliance." + +"Mesalliance, Charles! Lord Arthur Sibthorpe, son of the Duke of +Tavistock, with a pedigree from the Heptarchy. Debrett takes them +right back to Morcar, Earl of Northumberland." + +The Minister shrugged his shoulders. + +"Lord Arthur is the fourth son of the poorest duke in England," said +he. "He has neither prospects nor profession." + +"But, oh! Charlie, you could find him both." + +"I do not like him. I do not care for the connection." + +"But consider Ida! You know how frail her health is. Her whole soul +is set upon him. You would not have the heart, Charles, to separate +them?" + +There was a tap at the door. Lady Clara swept towards it and threw it +open. + +"Yes, Thomas?" + +"If you please, my lady, the Prime Minister is below." + +"Show him up, Thomas." + +"Now, Charlie, you must not excite yourself over public matters. Be +very good and cool and reasonable, like a darling. I am sure that I +may trust you." + +She threw her light shawl round the invalid's shoulders, and slipped +away into the bed-room as the great man was ushered in at the door of +the dressing-room. + +"My dear Charles," said he cordially, stepping into the room with all +the boyish briskness for which he was famous, "I trust that you find +yourself a little better. Almost ready for harness, eh? We miss you +sadly, both in the House and in the Council. Quite a storm brewing +over this Grecian business. The Times took a nasty line this morning." + +"So I saw," said the invalid, smiling up at his chief. "Well, well, we +must let them see that the country is not entirely ruled from Printing +House Square yet. We must keep our own course without faltering." + +"Certainly, Charles, most undoubtedly," assented the Prime Minister, +with his hands in his pockets. + +"It was so kind of you to call. I am all impatience to know what was +done in the Council." + +"Pure formalities, nothing more. By-the-way, the Macedonian prisoners +are all right." + +"Thank Goodness for that!" + +"We adjourned all other business until we should have you with us next +week. The question of a dissolution begins to press. The reports from +the provinces are excellent." + +The Foreign Minister moved impatiently and groaned. + +"We must really straighten up our foreign business a little," said he. +"I must get Novikoff's Note answered. It is clever, but the fallacies +are obvious. I wish, too, we could clear up the Afghan frontier. This +illness is most exasperating. There is so much to be done, but my +brain is clouded. Sometimes I think it is the gout, and sometimes I +put it down to the colchicum." + +"What will our medical autocrat say?" laughed the Prime Minister. "You +are so irreverent, Charles. With a bishop one may feel at one's ease. +They are not beyond the reach of argument. But a doctor with his +stethoscope and thermometer is a thing apart. Your reading does not +impinge upon him. He is serenely above you. And then, of course, he +takes you at a disadvantage. With health and strength one might cope +with him. Have you read Hahnemann? What are your views upon +Hahnemann?" + +The invalid knew his illustrious colleague too well to follow him down +any of those by-paths of knowledge in which he delighted to wander. To +his intensely shrewd and practical mind there was something repellent +in the waste of energy involved in a discussion upon the Early Church +or the twenty-seven principles of Mesmer. It was his custom to slip +past such conversational openings with a quick step and an averted face. + +"I have hardly glanced at his writings," said he. "By-the-way, I +suppose that there was no special departmental news?" + +"Ah! I had almost forgotten. Yes, it was one of the things which I +had called to tell you. Sir Algernon Jones has resigned at Tangier. +There is a vacancy there." + +"It had better be filled at once. The longer delay the more +applicants." + +"Ah, patronage, patronage!" sighed the Prime Minister. "Every vacancy +makes one doubtful friend and a dozen very positive enemies. Who so +bitter as the disappointed place-seeker? But you are right, Charles. +Better fill it at once, especially as there is some little trouble in +Morocco. I understand that the Duke of Tavistock would like the place +for his fourth son, Lord Arthur Sibthorpe. We are under some +obligation to the Duke." + +The Foreign Minister sat up eagerly. + +"My dear friend," he said, "it is the very appointment which I should +have suggested. Lord Arthur would be very much better in Tangier at +present than in--in----" + +"Cavendish Square?" hazarded his chief, with a little arch query of his +eyebrows. + +"Well, let us say London. He has manner and tact. He was at +Constantinople in Norton's time." + +"Then he talks Arabic?" + +"A smattering. But his French is good." + +"Speaking of Arabic, Charles, have you dipped into Averroes?" + +"No, I have not. But the appointment would be an excellent one in +every way. Would you have the great goodness to arrange the matter in +my absence?" + +"Certainly, Charles, certainly. Is there anything else that I can do?" + +"No. I hope to be in the House by Monday." + +"I trust so. We miss you at every turn. The Times will try to make +mischief over that Grecian business. A leader-writer is a terribly +irresponsible thing, Charles. There is no method by which he may be +confuted, however preposterous his assertions. Good-bye! Read Porson! +Goodbye!" + +He shook the invalid's hand, gave a jaunty wave of his broad-brimmed +hat, and darted out of the room with the same elasticity and energy +with which he had entered it. + +The footman had already opened the great folding door to usher the +illustrious visitor to his carriage, when a lady stepped from the +drawing-room and touched him on the sleeve. From behind the +half-closed portiere of stamped velvet a little pale face peeped out, +half-curious, half-frightened. + +"May I have one word?" + +"Surely, Lady Clara." + +"I hope it is not intrusive. I would not for the world overstep the +limits----" + +"My dear Lady Clara!" interrupted the Prime Minister, with a youthful +bow and wave. + +"Pray do not answer me if I go too far. But I know that Lord Arthur +Sibthorpe has applied for Tangier. Would it be a liberty if I asked +you what chance he has?" + +"The post is filled up." + +"Oh!" + +In the foreground and background there was a disappointed face. + +"And Lord Arthur has it." + +The Prime Minister chuckled over his little piece of roguery. + +"We have just decided it," he continued. + +"Lord Arthur must go in a week. I am delighted to perceive, Lady +Clara, that the appointment has your approval. Tangier is a place of +extraordinary interest. Catherine of Braganza and Colonel Kirke will +occur to your memory. Burton has written well upon Northern Africa. I +dine at Windsor, so I am sure that you will excuse my leaving you. I +trust that Lord Charles will be better. He can hardly fail to be so +with such a nurse." + +He bowed, waved, and was off down the steps to his brougham. As he +drove away, Lady Clara could see that he was already deeply absorbed in +a paper-covered novel. + +She pushed back the velvet curtains, and returned into the +drawing-room. Her daughter stood in the sunlight by the window, tall, +fragile, and exquisite, her features and outline not unlike her +mother's, but frailer, softer, more delicate. The golden light struck +one half of her high-bred, sensitive face, and glimmered upon her +thickly-coiled flaxen hair, striking a pinkish tint from her +closely-cut costume of fawn-coloured cloth with its dainty cinnamon +ruchings. One little soft frill of chiffon nestled round her throat, +from which the white, graceful neck and well-poised head shot up like a +lily amid moss. Her thin white hands were pressed together, and her +blue eyes turned beseechingly upon her mother. + +"Silly girl! Silly girl!" said the matron, answering that imploring +look. She put her hands upon her daughter's sloping shoulders and drew +her towards her. "It is a very nice place for a short time. It will +be a stepping stone." + +"But oh! mamma, in a week! Poor Arthur!" + +"He will be happy." + +"What! happy to part?" + +"He need not part. You shall go with him." + +"Oh! mamma!" + +"Yes, I say it." + +"Oh! mamma, in a week?" + +"Yes indeed. A great deal may be done in a week. I shall order your +trousseau to-day." + +"Oh! you dear, sweet angel! But I am so frightened! And papa? Oh! +dear, I am so frightened!" + +"Your papa is a diplomatist, dear." + +"Yes, ma." + +"But, between ourselves, he married a diplomatist too. If he can +manage the British Empire, I think that I can manage him, Ida. How +long have you been engaged, child?" + +"Ten weeks, mamma." + +"Then it is quite time it came to a head. Lord Arthur cannot leave +England without you. You must go to Tangier as the Minister's wife. +Now, you will sit there on the settee, dear, and let me manage +entirely. There is Sir William's carriage! I do think that I know how +to manage Sir William. James, just ask the doctor to step in this way!" + +A heavy, two-horsed carriage had drawn up at the door, and there came a +single stately thud upon the knocker. An instant afterwards the +drawing-room door flew open and the footman ushered in the famous +physician. He was a small man, clean-shaven, with the old-fashioned +black dress and white cravat with high-standing collar. He swung his +golden pince-nez in his right hand as he walked, and bent forward with +a peering, blinking expression, which was somehow suggestive of the +dark and complex cases through which he had seen. + +"Ah," said he, as he entered. "My young patient! I am glad of the +opportunity." + +"Yes, I wish to speak to you about her, Sir William. Pray take this +arm-chair." + +"Thank you, I will sit beside her," said he, taking his place upon the +settee. "She is looking better, less anaemic unquestionably, and a +fuller pulse. Quite a little tinge of colour, and yet not hectic." + +"I feel stronger, Sir William." + +"But she still has the pain in the side." + +"Ah, that pain!" He tapped lightly under the collar-bones, and then +bent forward with his biaural stethoscope in either ear. "Still a +trace of dulness--still a slight crepitation," he murmured. + +"You spoke of a change, doctor." + +"Yes, certainly a judicious change might be advisable." + +"You said a dry climate. I wish to do to the letter what you +recommend." + +"You have always been model patients." + +"We wish to be. You said a dry climate." + +"Did I? I rather forget the particulars of our conversation. But a +dry climate is certainly indicated." + +"Which one?" + +"Well, I think really that a patient should be allowed some latitude. +I must not exact too rigid discipline. There is room for individual +choice--the Engadine, Central Europe, Egypt, Algiers, which you like." + +"I hear that Tangier is also recommended." + +"Oh, yes, certainly; it is very dry." + +"You hear, Ida? Sir William says that you are to go to Tangier." + +"Or any----" + +"No, no, Sir William! We feel safest when we are most obedient. You +have said Tangier, and we shall certainly try Tangier." + +"Really, Lady Clara, your implicit faith is most flattering. It is not +everyone who would sacrifice their own plans and inclinations so +readily." + +"We know your skill and your experience, Sir William. Ida shall try +Tangier. I am convinced that she will be benefited." + +"I have no doubt of it." + +"But you know Lord Charles. He is just a little inclined to decide +medical matters as he would an affair of State. I hope that you will +be firm with him." + +"As long as Lord Charles honours me so far as to ask my advice I am +sure that he would not place me in the false position of having that +advice disregarded." + +The medical baronet whirled round the cord of his pince-nez and pushed +out a protesting hand. + +"No, no, but you must be firm on the point of Tangier." + +"Having deliberately formed the opinion that Tangier is the best place +for our young patient, I do not think that I shall readily change my +conviction." + +"Of course not." + +"I shall speak to Lord Charles upon the subject now when I go upstairs." + +"Pray do." + +"And meanwhile she will continue her present course of treatment. I +trust that the warm African air may send her back in a few months with +all her energy restored." + +He bowed in the courteous, sweeping, old-world fashion which had done +so much to build up his ten thousand a year, and, with the stealthy +gait of a man whose life is spent in sick-rooms, he followed the +footman upstairs. + +As the red velvet curtains swept back into position, the Lady Ida threw +her arms round her mother's neck and sank her face on to her bosom. + +"Oh! mamma, you ARE a diplomatist!" she cried. + +But her mother's expression was rather that of the general who looked +upon the first smoke of the guns than of one who had won the victory. + +"All will be right, dear," said she, glancing down at the fluffy yellow +curls and tiny ear. "There is still much to be done, but I think we +may venture to order the trousseau." + +"Oh I how brave you are!" + +"Of course, it will in any case be a very quiet affair. Arthur must +get the license. I do not approve of hole-and-corner marriages, but +where the gentleman has to take up an official position some allowance +must be made. We can have Lady Hilda Edgecombe, and the Trevors, and +the Grevilles, and I am sure that the Prime Minister would run down if +he could." + +"And papa?" + +"Oh, yes; he will come too, if he is well enough. We must wait until +Sir William goes, and, meanwhile, I shall write to Lord Arthur." + +Half an hour had passed, and quite a number of notes had been dashed +off in the fine, bold, park-paling handwriting of the Lady Clara, when +the door clashed, and the wheels of the doctor's carriage were heard +grating outside against the kerb. The Lady Clara laid down her pen, +kissed her daughter, and started off for the sick-room. The Foreign +Minister was lying back in his chair, with a red silk handkerchief over +his forehead, and his bulbous, cotton-wadded foot still protruding upon +its rest. + +"I think it is almost liniment time," said Lady Clara, shaking a blue +crinkled bottle. "Shall I put on a little?" + +"Oh! this pestilent toe!" groaned the sufferer. "Sir William won't +hear of my moving yet. I do think he is the most completely obstinate +and pig-headed man that I have ever met. I tell him that he has +mistaken his profession, and that I could find him a post at +Constantinople. We need a mule out there." + +"Poor Sir William!" laughed Lady Clara. "But how has he roused your +wrath?" + +"He is so persistent-so dogmatic." + +"Upon what point?" + +"Well, he has been laying down the law about Ida. He has decreed, it +seems, that she is to go to Tangier." + +"He said something to that effect before he went up to you." + +"Oh, he did, did he?" + +The slow-moving, inscrutable eye came sliding round to her. + +Lady Clara's face had assumed an expression of transparent obvious +innocence, an intrusive candour which is never seen in nature save when +a woman is bent upon deception. + +"He examined her lungs, Charles. He did not say much, but his +expression was very grave." + +"Not to say owlish," interrupted the Minister. + +"No, no, Charles; it is no laughing matter. He said that she must have +a change. I am sure that he thought more than he said. He spoke of +dulness and crepitation, and the effects of the African air. Then the +talk turned upon dry, bracing health resorts, and he agreed that +Tangier was the place. He said that even a few months there would work +a change." + +"And that was all?" + +"Yes, that was all." + +Lord Charles shrugged his shoulders with the air of a man who is but +half convinced. + +"But of course," said Lady Clara, serenely, "if you think it better +that Ida should not go she shall not. The only thing is that if she +should get worse we might feel a little uncomfortable afterwards. In a +weakness of that sort a very short time may make a difference. Sir +William evidently thought the matter critical. Still, there is no +reason why he should influence you. It is a little responsibility, +however. If you take it all upon yourself and free me from any of it, +so that afterwards----" + +"My dear Clara, how you do croak!" + +"Oh! I don't wish to do that, Charles. But you remember what happened +to Lord Bellamy's child. She was just Ida's age. That was another +case in which Sir William's advice was disregarded." + +Lord Charles groaned impatiently. + +"I have not disregarded it," said he. + +"No, no, of course not. I know your strong sense, and your good heart +too well, dear. You were very wisely looking at both sides of the +question. That is what we poor women cannot do. It is emotion against +reason, as I have often heard you say. We are swayed this way and +that, but you men are persistent, and so you gain your way with us. +But I am so pleased that you have decided for Tangier." + +"Have I?" + +"Well, dear, you said that you would not disregard Sir William." + +"Well, Clara, admitting that Ida is to go to Tangier, you will allow +that it is impossible for me to escort her? + +"Utterly." + +"And for you? + +"While you are ill my place is by your side." + +"There is your sister?" + +"She is going to Florida." + +"Lady Dumbarton, then?" + +"She is nursing her father. It is out of the question." + +"Well, then, whom can we possibly ask? Especially just as the season +is commencing. You see, Clara, the fates fight against Sir William." + +His wife rested her elbows against the back of the great red chair, and +passed her fingers through the statesman's grizzled curls, stooping +down as she did so until her lips were close to his ear. + +"There is Lord Arthur Sibthorpe," said she softly. + +Lord Charles bounded in his chair, and muttered a word or two such as +were more frequently heard from Cabinet Ministers in Lord Melbourne's +time than now. + +"Are you mad, Clara!" he cried. "What can have put such a thought into +your head?" + +"The Prime Minister." + +"Who? The Prime Minister?" + +"Yes, dear. Now do, do be good! Or perhaps I had better not speak to +you about it any more." + +"Well, I really think that you have gone rather too far to retreat." + +"It was the Prime Minister, then, who told me that Lord Arthur was +going to Tangier." + +"It is a fact, though it had escaped my memory for the instant." + +"And then came Sir William with his advice about Ida. Oh! Charlie, it +is surely more than a coincidence!" + +"I am convinced," said Lord Charles, with his shrewd, questioning gaze, +"that it is very much more than a coincidence, Lady Clara. You are a +very clever woman, my dear. A born manager and organiser." + +Lady Clara brushed past the compliment. + +"Think of our own young days, Charlie," she whispered, with her fingers +still toying with his hair. "What were you then? A poor man, not even +Ambassador at Tangier. But I loved you, and believed in you, and have +I ever regretted it? Ida loves and believes in Lord Arthur, and why +should she ever regret it either?" + +Lord Charles was silent. His eyes were fixed upon the green branches +which waved outside the window; but his mind had flashed back to a +Devonshire country-house of thirty years ago, and to the one fateful +evening when, between old yew hedges, he paced along beside a slender +girl, and poured out to her his hopes, his fears, and his ambitious. +He took the white, thin hand and pressed it to his lips. + +"You, have been a good wife to me, Clara," said he. + +She said nothing. She did not attempt to improve upon her advantage. +A less consummate general might have tried to do so, and ruined all. +She stood silent and submissive, noting the quick play of thought which +peeped from his eyes and lip. There was a sparkle in the one and a +twitch of amusement in the other, as he at last glanced up at her. + +"Clara," said he, "deny it if you can! You have ordered the trousseau." + +She gave his ear a little pinch. + +"Subject to your approval," said she. + +"You have written to the Archbishop." + +"It is not posted yet." + +"You have sent a note to Lord Arthur." + +"How could you tell that?" + +"He is downstairs now." + +"No; but I think that is his brougham." + +Lord Charles sank back with a look of half-comical despair. + +"Who is to fight against such a woman?" he cried. "Oh! if I could send +you to Novikoff! He is too much for any of my men. But, Clara, I +cannot have them up here." + +"Not for your blessing?" + +"No, no!" + +"It would make them so happy." + +"I cannot stand scenes." + +"Then I shall convey it to them." + +"And pray say no more about it--to-day, at any rate. I have been weak +over the matter." + +"Oh! Charlie, you who are so strong!" + +"You have outflanked me, Clara. It was very well done. I must +congratulate you." + +"Well," she murmured, as she kissed him, "you know I have been +studying a very clever diplomatist for thirty years." + + + + +A MEDICAL DOCUMENT. + +Medical men are, as a class, very much too busy to take stock of +singular situations or dramatic events. Thus it happens that the +ablest chronicler of their experiences in our literature was a lawyer. +A life spent in watching over death-beds--or over birth-beds which are +infinitely more trying--takes something from a man's sense of +proportion, as constant strong waters might corrupt his palate. The +overstimulated nerve ceases to respond. Ask the surgeon for his best +experiences and he may reply that he has seen little that is +remarkable, or break away into the technical. But catch him some night +when the fire has spurted up and his pipe is reeking, with a few of his +brother practitioners for company and an artful question or allusion to +set him going. Then you will get some raw, green facts new plucked +from the tree of life. + +It is after one of the quarterly dinners of the Midland Branch of the +British Medical Association. Twenty coffee cups, a dozer liqueur +glasses, and a solid bank of blue smoke which swirls slowly along the +high, gilded ceiling gives a hint of a successful gathering. But the +members have shredded off to their homes. The line of heavy, +bulge-pocketed overcoats and of stethoscope-bearing top hats is gone +from the hotel corridor. Round the fire in the sitting-room three +medicos are still lingering, however, all smoking and arguing, while a +fourth, who is a mere layman and young at that, sits back at the table. +Under cover of an open journal he is writing furiously with a +stylographic pen, asking a question in an innocent voice from time to +time and so flickering up the conversation whenever it shows a tendency +to wane. + +The three men are all of that staid middle age which begins early and +lasts late in the profession. They are none of them famous, yet each +is of good repute, and a fair type of his particular branch. The +portly man with the authoritative manner and the white, vitriol splash +upon his cheek is Charley Manson, chief of the Wormley Asylum, and +author of the brilliant monograph--Obscure Nervous Lesions in the +Unmarried. He always wears his collar high like that, since the +half-successful attempt of a student of Revelations to cut his throat +with a splinter of glass. The second, with the ruddy face and the +merry brown eyes, is a general practitioner, a man of vast experience, +who, with his three assistants and his five horses, takes twenty-five +hundred a year in half-crown visits and shilling consultations out of +the poorest quarter of a great city. That cheery face of Theodore +Foster is seen at the side of a hundred sick-beds a day, and if he has +one-third more names on his visiting list than in his cash book he +always promises himself that he will get level some day when a +millionaire with a chronic complaint--the ideal combination--shall seek +his services. The third, sitting on the right with his dress shoes +shining on the top of the fender, is Hargrave, the rising surgeon. His +face has none of the broad humanity of Theodore Foster's, the eye is +stern and critical, the mouth straight and severe, but there is +strength and decision in every line of it, and it is nerve rather than +sympathy which the patient demands when he is bad enough to come to +Hargrave's door. He calls himself a jawman "a mere jawman" as he +modestly puts it, but in point of fact he is too young and too poor to +confine himself to a specialty, and there is nothing surgical which +Hargrave has not the skill and the audacity to do. + +"Before, after, and during," murmurs the general practitioner in answer +to some interpolation of the outsider's. "I assure you, Manson, one +sees all sorts of evanescent forms of madness." + +"Ah, puerperal!" throws in the other, knocking the curved grey ash from +his cigar. "But you had some case in your mind, Foster." + +"Well, there was only one last week which was new to me. I had been +engaged by some people of the name of Silcoe. When the trouble came +round I went myself, for they would not hear of an assistant. The +husband who was a policeman, was sitting at the head of the bed on the +further side. 'This won't do,' said I. 'Oh yes, doctor, it must do,' +said she. 'It's quite irregular and he must go,' said I. 'It's that +or nothing,' said she. 'I won't open my mouth or stir a finger the +whole night,' said he. So it ended by my allowing him to remain, and +there he sat for eight hours on end. She was very good over the +matter, but every now and again HE would fetch a hollow groan, and I +noticed that he held his right hand just under the sheet all the time, +where I had no doubt that it was clasped by her left. When it was all +happily over, I looked at him and his face was the colour of this cigar +ash, and his head had dropped on to the edge of the pillow. Of course +I thought he had fainted with emotion, and I was just telling myself +what I thought of myself for having been such a fool as to let him stay +there, when suddenly I saw that the sheet over his hand was all soaked +with blood; I whisked it down, and there was the fellow's wrist half +cut through. The woman had one bracelet of a policeman's handcuff over +her left wrist and the other round his right one. When she had been in +pain she had twisted with all her strength and the iron had fairly +eaten into the bone of the man's arm. 'Aye, doctor,' said she, when +she saw I had noticed it. 'He's got to take his share as well as me. +Turn and turn,' said she." + +"Don't you find it a very wearing branch of the profession?" asks +Foster after a pause. + +"My dear fellow, it was the fear of it that drove me into lunacy work." + +"Aye, and it has driven men into asylums who never found their way on +to the medical staff. I was a very shy fellow myself as a student, and +I know what it means." + +"No joke that in general practice," says the alienist. + +"Well, you hear men talk about it as though it were, but I tell you +it's much nearer tragedy. Take some poor, raw, young fellow who has +just put up his plate in a strange town. He has found it a trial all +his life, perhaps, to talk to a woman about lawn tennis and church +services. When a young man IS shy he is shyer than any girl. Then +down comes an anxious mother and consults him upon the most intimate +family matters. 'I shall never go to that doctor again,' says she +afterwards. 'His manner is so stiff and unsympathetic.' Unsympathetic! +Why, the poor lad was struck dumb and paralysed. I have known general +practitioners who were so shy that they could not bring themselves to +ask the way in the street. Fancy what sensitive men like that must +endure before they get broken in to medical practice. And then they +know that nothing is so catching as shyness, and that if they do not +keep a face of stone, their patient will be covered with confusion. +And so they keep their face of stone, and earn the reputation perhaps +of having a heart to correspond. I suppose nothing would shake YOUR +nerve, Manson." + +"Well, when a man lives year in year out among a thousand lunatics, +with a fair sprinkling of homicidals among them, one's nerves either +get set or shattered. Mine are all right so far." + +"I was frightened once," says the surgeon. "It was when I was doing +dispensary work. One night I had a call from some very poor people, +and gathered from the few words they said that their child was ill. +When I entered the room I saw a small cradle in the corner. Raising +the lamp I walked over and putting back the curtains I looked down at +the baby. I tell you it was sheer Providence that I didn't drop that +lamp and set the whole place alight. The head on the pillow turned and +I saw a face looking up at me which seemed to me to have more +malignancy and wickedness than ever I had dreamed of in a nightmare. +It was the flush of red over the cheekbones, and the brooding eyes full +of loathing of me, and of everything else, that impressed me. I'll +never forget my start as, instead of the chubby face of an infant, my +eyes fell upon this creature. I took the mother into the next room. +'What is it?' I asked. 'A girl of sixteen,' said she, and then +throwing up her arms, 'Oh, pray God she may be taken!' The poor thing, +though she spent her life in this little cradle, had great, long, thin +limbs which she curled up under her. I lost sight of the case and +don't know what became of it, but I'll never forget the look in her +eyes." + +"That's creepy," says Dr. Foster. "But I think one of my experiences +would run it close. Shortly after I put up my plate I had a visit from +a little hunch-backed woman who wished me to come and attend to her +sister in her trouble. When I reached the house, which was a very poor +one, I found two other little hunched-backed women, exactly like the +first, waiting for me in the sitting-room. Not one of them said a +word, but my companion took the lamp and walked upstairs with her two +sisters behind her, and me bringing up the rear. I can see those three +queer shadows cast by the lamp upon the wall as clearly as I can see +that tobacco pouch. In the room above was the fourth sister, a +remarkably beautiful girl in evident need of my assistance. There was +no wedding ring upon her finger. The three deformed sisters seated +themselves round the room, like so many graven images, and all night +not one of them opened her mouth. I'm not romancing, Hargrave; this is +absolute fact. In the early morning a fearful thunderstorm broke out, +one of the most violent I have ever known. The little garret burned +blue with the lightning, and thunder roared and rattled as if it were +on the very roof of the house. It wasn't much of a lamp I had, and it +was a queer thing when a spurt of lightning came to see those three +twisted figures sitting round the walls, or to have the voice of my +patient drowned by the booming of the thunder. By Jove! I don't mind +telling you that there was a time when I nearly bolted from the room. +All came right in the end, but I never heard the true story of the +unfortunate beauty and her three crippled sisters." + +"That's the worst of these medical stories," sighs the outsider. "They +never seem to have an end." + +"When a man is up to his neck in practice, my boy, he has no time to +gratify his private curiosity. Things shoot across him and he gets a +glimpse of them, only to recall them, perhaps, at some quiet moment +like this. But I've always felt, Manson, that your line had as much of +the terrible in it as any other." + +"More," groans the alienist. "A disease of the body is bad enough, but +this seems to be a disease of the soul. Is it not a shocking thing--a +thing to drive a reasoning man into absolute Materialism--to think that +you may have a fine, noble fellow with every divine instinct and that +some little vascular change, the dropping, we will say, of a minute +spicule of bone from the inner table of his skull on to the surface of +his brain may have the effect of changing him to a filthy and pitiable +creature with every low and debasing tendency? What a satire an asylum +is upon the majesty of man, and no less upon the ethereal nature of the +soul." + +"Faith and hope," murmurs the general practitioner. + +"I have no faith, not much hope, and all the charity I can afford," +says the surgeon. "When theology squares itself with the facts of life +I'll read it up." + +"You were talking about cases," says the outsider, jerking the ink down +into his stylographic pen. + +"Well, take a common complaint which kills many thousands every year, +like G. P. for instance." + +"What's G. P.?" + +"General practitioner," suggests the surgeon with a grin. + +"The British public will have to know what G. P. is," says the +alienist gravely. "It's increasing by leaps and bounds, and it has the +distinction of being absolutely incurable. General paralysis is its +full title, and I tell you it promises to be a perfect scourge. Here's +a fairly typical case now which I saw last Monday week. A young +farmer, a splendid fellow, surprised his fellows by taking a very rosy +view of things at a time when the whole country-side was grumbling. He +was going to give up wheat, give up arable land, too, if it didn't pay, +plant two thousand acres of rhododendrons and get a monopoly of the +supply for Covent Garden--there was no end to his schemes, all sane +enough but just a bit inflated. I called at the farm, not to see him, +but on an altogether different matter. Something about the man's way +of talking struck me and I watched him narrowly. His lip had a trick +of quivering, his words slurred themselves together, and so did his +handwriting when he had occasion to draw up a small agreement. A +closer inspection showed me that one of his pupils was ever so little +larger than the other. As I left the house his wife came after me. +'Isn't it splendid to see Job looking so well, doctor,' said she; 'he's +that full of energy he can hardly keep himself quiet.' I did not say +anything, for I had not the heart, but I knew that the fellow was as +much condemned to death as though he were lying in the cell at Newgate. +It was a characteristic case of incipient G. P." + +"Good heavens!" cries the outsider. "My own lips tremble. I often +slur my words. I believe I've got it myself." + +Three little chuckles come from the front of the fire. + +"There's the danger of a little medical knowledge to the layman." + +"A great authority has said that every first year's student is +suffering in silent agony from four diseases," remarks the surgeon. +"One is heart disease, of course; another is cancer of the parotid. I +forget the two other." + +"Where does the parotid come in?" + +"Oh, it's the last wisdom tooth coming through!" + +"And what would be the end of that young farmer?" asks the outsider. + +"Paresis of all the muscles, ending in fits, coma, and death. It may +be a few months, it may be a year or two. He was a very strong young +man and would take some killing." + +"By-the-way," says the alienist, "did I ever tell you about the first +certificate I signed? I came as near ruin then as a man could go." + +"What was it, then?" + +"I was in practice at the time. One morning a Mrs. Cooper called upon +me and informed me that her husband had shown signs of delusions +lately. They took the form of imagining that he had been in the army +and had distinguished himself very much. As a matter of fact he was a +lawyer and had never been out of England. Mrs. Cooper was of opinion +that if I were to call it might alarm him, so it was agreed between us +that she should send him up in the evening on some pretext to my +consulting-room, which would give me the opportunity of having a chat +with him and, if I were convinced of his insanity, of signing his +certificate. Another doctor had already signed, so that it only needed +my concurrence to have him placed under treatment. Well, Mr. Cooper +arrived in the evening about half an hour before I had expected him, +and consulted me as to some malarious symptoms from which he said that +he suffered. According to his account he had just returned from the +Abyssinian Campaign, and had been one of the first of the British +forces to enter Magdala. No delusion could possibly be more marked, +for he would talk of little else, so I filled in the papers without the +slightest hesitation. When his wife arrived, after he had left, I put +some questions to her to complete the form. 'What is his age?' I +asked. 'Fifty,' said she. 'Fifty!' I cried. 'Why, the man I examined +could not have been more than thirty! And so it came out that the real +Mr. Cooper had never called upon me at all, but that by one of those +coincidences which take a man's breath away another Cooper, who really +was a very distinguished young officer of artillery, had come in to +consult me. My pen was wet to sign the paper when I discovered it," +says Dr. Manson, mopping his forehead. + +"We were talking about nerve just now," observes the surgeon. "Just +after my qualifying I served in the Navy for a time, as I think you +know. I was on the flag-ship on the West African Station, and I +remember a singular example of nerve which came to my notice at that +time. One of our small gunboats had gone up the Calabar river, and +while there the surgeon died of coast fever. On the same day a man's +leg was broken by a spar falling upon it, and it became quite obvious +that it must be taken off above the knee if his life was to be saved. +The young lieutenant who was in charge of the craft searched among the +dead doctor's effects and laid his hands upon some chloroform, a +hip-joint knife, and a volume of Grey's Anatomy. He had the man laid +by the steward upon the cabin table, and with a picture of a cross +section of the thigh in front of him he began to take off the limb. +Every now and then, referring to the diagram, he would say: 'Stand by +with the lashings, steward. There's blood on the chart about here.' +Then he would jab with his knife until he cut the artery, and he and +his assistant would tie it up before they went any further. In this +way they gradually whittled the leg off, and upon my word they made a +very excellent job of it. The man is hopping about the Portsmouth Hard +at this day. + +"It's no joke when the doctor of one of these isolated gunboats himself +falls ill," continues the surgeon after a pause. "You might think it +easy for him to prescribe for himself, but this fever knocks you down +like a club, and you haven't strength left to brush a mosquito off your +face. I had a touch of it at Lagos, and I know what I am telling you. +But there was a chum of mine who really had a curious experience. The +whole crew gave him up, and, as they had never had a funeral aboard the +ship, they began rehearsing the forms so as to be ready. They thought +that he was unconscious, but he swears he could hear every word that +passed. 'Corpse comin' up the latchway!' cried the Cockney sergeant of +Marines. 'Present harms!' He was so amused, and so indignant too, +that he just made up his mind that he wouldn't be carried through that +hatchway, and he wasn't, either." + +"There's no need for fiction in medicine," remarks Foster, "for the +facts will always beat anything you can fancy. But it has seemed to me +sometimes that a curious paper might be read at some of these meetings +about the uses of medicine in popular fiction." + +"How?" + +"Well, of what the folk die of, and what diseases are made most use of +in novels. Some are worn to pieces, and others, which are equally +common in real life, are never mentioned. Typhoid is fairly frequent, +but scarlet fever is unknown. Heart disease is common, but then heart +disease, as we know it, is usually the sequel of some foregoing +disease, of which we never hear anything in the romance. Then there is +the mysterious malady called brain fever, which always attacks the +heroine after a crisis, but which is unknown under that name to the +text books. People when they are over-excited in novels fall down in a +fit. In a fairly large experience I have never known anyone do so in +real life. The small complaints simply don't exist. Nobody ever gets +shingles or quinsy, or mumps in a novel. All the diseases, too, belong +to the upper part of the body. The novelist never strikes below the +belt." + +"I'll tell you what, Foster," says the alienist, "there is a side of +life which is too medical for the general public and too romantic for +the professional journals, but which contains some of the richest human +materials that a man could study. It's not a pleasant side, I am +afraid, but if it is good enough for Providence to create, it is good +enough for us to try and understand. It would deal with strange +outbursts of savagery and vice in the lives of the best men, curious +momentary weaknesses in the record of the sweetest women, known but to +one or two, and inconceivable to the world around. It would deal, too, +with the singular phenomena of waxing and of waning manhood, and would +throw a light upon those actions which have cut short many an honoured +career and sent a man to a prison when he should have been hurried to a +consulting-room. Of all evils that may come upon the sons of men, God +shield us principally from that one!" + +"I had a case some little time ago which was out of the ordinary," says +the surgeon. "There's a famous beauty in London society--I mention no +names--who used to be remarkable a few seasons ago for the very low +dresses which she would wear. She had the whitest of skins and most +beautiful of shoulders, so it was no wonder. Then gradually the +frilling at her neck lapped upwards and upwards, until last year she +astonished everyone by wearing quite a high collar at a time when it +was completely out of fashion. Well, one day this very woman was shown +into my consulting-room. When the footman was gone she suddenly tore +off the upper part of her dress. 'For Gods sake do something for me!' +she cried. Then I saw what the trouble was. A rodent ulcer was eating +its way upwards, coiling on in its serpiginous fashion until the end of +it was flush with her collar. The red streak of its trail was lost +below the line of her bust. Year by year it had ascended and she had +heightened her dress to hide it, until now it was about to invade her +face. She had been too proud to confess her trouble, even to a medical +man." + +"And did you stop it?" + +"Well, with zinc chloride I did what I could. But it may break out +again. She was one of those beautiful white-and-pink creatures who are +rotten with struma. You may patch but you can't mend." + +"Dear! dear! dear!" cries the general practitioner, with that kindly +softening of the eyes which had endeared him to so many thousands. "I +suppose we mustn't think ourselves wiser than Providence, but there are +times when one feels that something is wrong in the scheme of things. +I've seen some sad things in my life. Did I ever tell you that case +where Nature divorced a most loving couple? He was a fine young +fellow, an athlete and a gentleman, but he overdid athletics. You know +how the force that controls us gives us a little tweak to remind us +when we get off the beaten track. It may be a pinch on the great toe +if we drink too much and work too little. Or it may be a tug on our +nerves if we dissipate energy too much. With the athlete, of course, +it's the heart or the lungs. He had bad phthisis and was sent to +Davos. Well, as luck would have it, she developed rheumatic fever, +which left her heart very much affected. Now, do you see the dreadful +dilemma in which those poor people found themselves? When he came +below four thousand feet or so, his symptoms became terrible. She +could come up about twenty-five hundred and then her heart reached its +limit. They had several interviews half way down the valley, which +left them nearly dead, and at last, the doctors had to absolutely +forbid it. And so for four years they lived within three miles of each +other and never met. Every morning he would go to a place which +overlooked the chalet in which she lived and would wave a great white +cloth and she answer from below. They could see each other quite +plainly with their field glasses, and they might have been in different +planets for all their chance of meeting." + +"And one at last died," says the outsider. + +"No, sir. I'm sorry not to be able to clinch the story, but the man +recovered and is now a successful stockbroker in Drapers Gardens. The +woman, too, is the mother of a considerable family. But what are you +doing there?" + +"Only taking a note or two of your talk." + +The three medical men laugh as they walk towards their overcoats. + +"Why, we've done nothing but talk shop," says the general practitioner. +"What possible interest can the public take in that?" + + + + +LOT NO. 249. + +Of the dealings of Edward Bellingham with William Monkhouse Lee, and of +the cause of the great terror of Abercrombie Smith, it may be that no +absolute and final judgment will ever be delivered. It is true that we +have the full and clear narrative of Smith himself, and such +corroboration as he could look for from Thomas Styles the servant, from +the Reverend Plumptree Peterson, Fellow of Old's, and from such other +people as chanced to gain some passing glance at this or that incident +in a singular chain of events. Yet, in the main, the story must rest +upon Smith alone, and the most will think that it is more likely that +one brain, however outwardly sane, has some subtle warp in its texture, +some strange flaw in its workings, than that the path of Nature has +been overstepped in open day in so famed a centre of learning and light +as the University of Oxford. Yet when we think how narrow and how +devious this path of Nature is, how dimly we can trace it, for all our +lamps of science, and how from the darkness which girds it round great +and terrible possibilities loom ever shadowly upwards, it is a bold and +confident man who will put a limit to the strange by-paths into which +the human spirit may wander. + +In a certain wing of what we will call Old College in Oxford there is a +corner turret of an exceeding great age. The heavy arch which spans +the open door has bent downwards in the centre under the weight of its +years, and the grey, lichen-blotched blocks of stone are, bound and +knitted together with withes and strands of ivy, as though the old +mother had set herself to brace them up against wind and weather. From +the door a stone stair curves upward spirally, passing two landings, +and terminating in a third one, its steps all shapeless and hollowed by +the tread of so many generations of the seekers after knowledge. Life +has flowed like water down this winding stair, and, waterlike, has left +these smooth-worn grooves behind it. From the long-gowned, pedantic +scholars of Plantagenet days down to the young bloods of a later age, +how full and strong had been that tide of young English life. And what +was left now of all those hopes, those strivings, those fiery energies, +save here and there in some old-world churchyard a few scratches upon a +stone, and perchance a handful of dust in a mouldering coffin? Yet +here were the silent stair and the grey old wall, with bend and saltire +and many another heraldic device still to be read upon its surface, +like grotesque shadows thrown back from the days that had passed. + +In the month of May, in the year 1884, three young men occupied the +sets of rooms which opened on to the separate landings of the old +stair. Each set consisted simply of a sitting-room and of a bedroom, +while the two corresponding rooms upon the ground-floor were used, the +one as a coal-cellar, and the other as the living-room of the servant, +or gyp, Thomas Styles, whose duty it was to wait upon the three men +above him. To right and to left was a line of lecture-rooms and of +offices, so that the dwellers in the old turret enjoyed a certain +seclusion, which made the chambers popular among the more studious +undergraduates. Such were the three who occupied them now--Abercrombie +Smith above, Edward Bellingham beneath him, and William Monkhouse Lee +upon the lowest storey. + +It was ten o'clock on a bright spring night, and Abercrombie Smith lay +back in his arm-chair, his feet upon the fender, and his briar-root +pipe between his lips. In a similar chair, and equally at his ease, +there lounged on the other side of the fireplace his old school friend +Jephro Hastie. Both men were in flannels, for they had spent their +evening upon the river, but apart from their dress no one could look at +their hard-cut, alert faces without seeing that they were open-air +men--men whose minds and tastes turned naturally to all that was manly +and robust. Hastie, indeed, was stroke of his college boat, and Smith +was an even better oar, but a coming examination had already cast its +shadow over him and held him to his work, save for the few hours a week +which health demanded. A litter of medical books upon the table, with +scattered bones, models and anatomical plates, pointed to the extent as +well as the nature of his studies, while a couple of single-sticks and +a set of boxing-gloves above the mantelpiece hinted at the means by +which, with Hastie's help, he might take his exercise in its most +compressed and least distant form. They knew each other very well--so +well that they could sit now in that soothing silence which is the very +highest development of companionship. + +"Have some whisky," said Abercrombie Smith at last between two +cloudbursts. "Scotch in the jug and Irish in the bottle." + +"No, thanks. I'm in for the sculls. I don't liquor when I'm training. +How about you?" + +"I'm reading hard. I think it best to leave it alone." + +Hastie nodded, and they relapsed into a contented silence. + +"By-the-way, Smith," asked Hastie, presently, "have you made the +acquaintance of either of the fellows on your stair yet?" + +"Just a nod when we pass. Nothing more." + +"Hum! I should be inclined to let it stand at that. I know something +of them both. Not much, but as much as I want. I don't think I should +take them to my bosom if I were you. Not that there's much amiss with +Monkhouse Lee." + +"Meaning the thin one?" + +"Precisely. He is a gentlemanly little fellow. I don't think there is +any vice in him. But then you can't know him without knowing +Bellingham." + +"Meaning the fat one?" + +"Yes, the fat one. And he's a man whom I, for one, would rather not +know." + +Abercrombie Smith raised his eyebrows and glanced across at his +companion. + +"What's up, then?" he asked. "Drink? Cards? Cad? You used not to be +censorious." + +"Ah! you evidently don't know the man, or you wouldn't ask. There's +something damnable about him--something reptilian. My gorge always +rises at him. I should put him down as a man with secret vices--an +evil liver. He's no fool, though. They say that he is one of the +best men in his line that they have ever had in the college." + +"Medicine or classics?" + +"Eastern languages. He's a demon at them. Chillingworth met him +somewhere above the second cataract last long, and he told me that he +just prattled to the Arabs as if he had been born and nursed and weaned +among them. He talked Coptic to the Copts, and Hebrew to the Jews, and +Arabic to the Bedouins, and they were all ready to kiss the hem of his +frock-coat. There are some old hermit Johnnies up in those parts who +sit on rocks and scowl and spit at the casual stranger. Well, when +they saw this chap Bellingham, before he had said five words they just +lay down on their bellies and wriggled. Chillingworth said that he +never saw anything like it. Bellingham seemed to take it as his right, +too, and strutted about among them and talked down to them like a Dutch +uncle. Pretty good for an undergrad. of Old's, wasn't it?" + +"Why do you say you can't know Lee without knowing Bellingham?" + +"Because Bellingham is engaged to his sister Eveline. Such a bright +little girl, Smith! I know the whole family well. It's disgusting to +see that brute with her. A toad and a dove, that's what they always +remind me of." + +Abercrombie Smith grinned and knocked his ashes out against the side of +the grate. + +"You show every card in your hand, old chap," said he. "What a +prejudiced, green-eyed, evil-thinking old man it is! You have really +nothing against the fellow except that." + +"Well, I've known her ever since she was as long as that cherry-wood +pipe, and I don't like to see her taking risks. And it is a risk. He +looks beastly. And he has a beastly temper, a venomous temper. You +remember his row with Long Norton?" + +"No; you always forget that I am a freshman." + +"Ah, it was last winter. Of course. Well, you know the towpath along +by the river. There were several fellows going along it, Bellingham in +front, when they came on an old market-woman coming the other way. It +had been raining--you know what those fields are like when it has +rained--and the path ran between the river and a great puddle that was +nearly as broad. Well, what does this swine do but keep the path, and +push the old girl into the mud, where she and her marketings came to +terrible grief. It was a blackguard thing to do, and Long Norton, who +is as gentle a fellow as ever stepped, told him what he thought of it. +One word led to another, and it ended in Norton laying his stick across +the fellow's shoulders. There was the deuce of a fuss about it, and +it's a treat to see the way in which Bellingham looks at Norton when +they meet now. By Jove, Smith, it's nearly eleven o'clock!" + +"No hurry. Light your pipe again." + +"Not I. I'm supposed to be in training. Here I've been sitting +gossiping when I ought to have been safely tucked up. I'll borrow your +skull, if you can share it. Williams has had mine for a month. I'll +take the little bones of your ear, too, if you are sure you won't need +them. Thanks very much. Never mind a bag, I can carry them very well +under my arm. Good-night, my son, and take my tip as to your +neighbour." + +When Hastie, bearing his anatomical plunder, had clattered off down the +winding stair, Abercrombie Smith hurled his pipe into the wastepaper +basket, and drawing his chair nearer to the lamp, plunged into a +formidable green-covered volume, adorned with great colored maps of +that strange internal kingdom of which we are the hapless and helpless +monarchs. Though a freshman at Oxford, the student was not so in +medicine, for he had worked for four years at Glasgow and at Berlin, +and this coming examination would place him finally as a member of his +profession. With his firm mouth, broad forehead, and clear-cut, +somewhat hard-featured face, he was a man who, if he had no brilliant +talent, was yet so dogged, so patient, and so strong that he might in +the end overtop a more showy genius. A man who can hold his own among +Scotchmen and North Germans is not a man to be easily set back. Smith +had left a name at Glasgow and at Berlin, and he was bent now upon +doing as much at Oxford, if hard work and devotion could accomplish it. + +He had sat reading for about an hour, and the hands of the noisy +carriage clock upon the side table were rapidly closing together upon +the twelve, when a sudden sound fell upon the student's ear--a sharp, +rather shrill sound, like the hissing intake of a man's breath who +gasps under some strong emotion. Smith laid down his book and slanted +his ear to listen. There was no one on either side or above him, so +that the interruption came certainly from the neighbour beneath--the +same neighbour of whom Hastie had given so unsavoury an account. Smith +knew him only as a flabby, pale-faced man of silent and studious +habits, a man, whose lamp threw a golden bar from the old turret even +after he had extinguished his own. This community in lateness had +formed a certain silent bond between them. It was soothing to Smith +when the hours stole on towards dawning to feel that there was another +so close who set as small a value upon his sleep as he did. Even now, +as his thoughts turned towards him, Smith's feelings were kindly. +Hastie was a good fellow, but he was rough, strong-fibred, with no +imagination or sympathy. He could not tolerate departures from what he +looked upon as the model type of manliness. If a man could not be +measured by a public-school standard, then he was beyond the pale with +Hastie. Like so many who are themselves robust, he was apt to confuse +the constitution with the character, to ascribe to want of principle +what was really a want of circulation. Smith, with his stronger mind, +knew his friend's habit, and made allowance for it now as his thoughts +turned towards the man beneath him. + +There was no return of the singular sound, and Smith was about to turn +to his work once more, when suddenly there broke out in the silence of +the night a hoarse cry, a positive scream--the call of a man who is +moved and shaken beyond all control. Smith sprang out of his chair and +dropped his book. He was a man of fairly firm fibre, but there was +something in this sudden, uncontrollable shriek of horror which chilled +his blood and pringled in his skin. Coming in such a place and at such +an hour, it brought a thousand fantastic possibilities into his head. +Should he rush down, or was it better to wait? He had all the national +hatred of making a scene, and he knew so little of his neighbour that +he would not lightly intrude upon his affairs. For a moment he stood +in doubt and even as he balanced the matter there was a quick rattle of +footsteps upon the stairs, and young Monkhouse Lee, half dressed and as +white as ashes, burst into his room. + +"Come down!" he gasped. "Bellingham's ill." + +Abercrombie Smith followed him closely down stairs into the +sitting-room which was beneath his own, and intent as he was upon the +matter in hand, he could not but take an amazed glance around him as he +crossed the threshold. It was such a chamber as he had never seen +before--a museum rather than a study. Walls and ceiling were thickly +covered with a thousand strange relics from Egypt and the East. Tall, +angular figures bearing burdens or weapons stalked in an uncouth frieze +round the apartments. Above were bull-headed, stork-headed, +cat-headed, owl-headed statues, with viper-crowned, almond-eyed +monarchs, and strange, beetle-like deities cut out of the blue Egyptian +lapis lazuli. Horus and Isis and Osiris peeped down from every niche +and shelf, while across the ceiling a true son of Old Nile, a great, +hanging-jawed crocodile, was slung in a double noose. + +In the centre of this singular chamber was a large, square table, +littered with papers, bottles, and the dried leaves of some graceful, +palm-like plant. These varied objects had all been heaped together in +order to make room for a mummy case, which had been conveyed from the +wall, as was evident from the gap there, and laid across the front of +the table. The mummy itself, a horrid, black, withered thing, like a +charred head on a gnarled bush, was lying half out of the case, with +its clawlike hand and bony forearm resting upon the table. Propped up +against the sarcophagus was an old yellow scroll of papyrus, and in +front of it, in a wooden armchair, sat the owner of the room, his head +thrown back, his widely-opened eyes directed in a horrified stare to +the crocodile above him, and his blue, thick lips puffing loudly with +every expiration. + +"My God! he's dying!" cried Monkhouse Lee distractedly. + +He was a slim, handsome young fellow, olive-skinned and dark-eyed, of a +Spanish rather than of an English type, with a Celtic intensity of +manner which contrasted with the Saxon phlegm of Abercombie Smith. + +"Only a faint, I think," said the medical student. "Just give me a +hand with him. You take his feet. Now on to the sofa. Can you kick +all those little wooden devils off? What a litter it is! Now he will +be all right if we undo his collar and give him some water. What has +he been up to at all?" + +"I don't know. I heard him cry out. I ran up. I know him pretty +well, you know. It is very good of you to come down." + +"His heart is going like a pair of castanets," said Smith, laying his +hand on the breast of the unconscious man. "He seems to me to be +frightened all to pieces. Chuck the water over him! What a face he +has got on him!" + +It was indeed a strange and most repellent face, for colour and outline +were equally unnatural. It was white, not with the ordinary pallor of +fear but with an absolutely bloodless white, like the under side of a +sole. He was very fat, but gave the impression of having at some time +been considerably fatter, for his skin hung loosely in creases and +folds, and was shot with a meshwork of wrinkles. Short, stubbly brown +hair bristled up from his scalp, with a pair of thick, wrinkled ears +protruding on either side. His light grey eyes were still open, the +pupils dilated and the balls projecting in a fixed and horrid stare. +It seemed to Smith as he looked down upon him that he had never seen +nature's danger signals flying so plainly upon a man's countenance, and +his thoughts turned more seriously to the warning which Hastie had +given him an hour before. + +"What the deuce can have frightened him so?" he asked. + +"It's the mummy." + +"The mummy? How, then?" + +"I don't know. It's beastly and morbid. I wish he would drop it. +It's the second fright he has given me. It was the same last winter. +I found him just like this, with that horrid thing in front of him." + +"What does he want with the mummy, then?" + +"Oh, he's a crank, you know. It's his hobby. He knows more about +these things than any man in England. But I wish he wouldn't! Ah, +he's beginning to come to." + +A faint tinge of colour had begun to steal back into Bellingham's +ghastly cheeks, and his eyelids shivered like a sail after a calm. He +clasped and unclasped his hands, drew a long, thin breath between his +teeth, and suddenly jerking up his head, threw a glance of recognition +around him. As his eyes fell upon the mummy, he sprang off the sofa, +seized the roll of papyrus, thrust it into a drawer, turned the key, +and then staggered back on to the sofa. + +"What's up?" he asked. "What do you chaps want?" + +"You've been shrieking out and making no end of a fuss," said Monkhouse +Lee. "If our neighbour here from above hadn't come down, I'm sure I +don't know what I should have done with you." + +"Ah, it's Abercrombie Smith," said Bellingham, glancing up at him. +"How very good of you to come in! What a fool I am! Oh, my God, what +a fool I am!" + +He sunk his head on to his hands, and burst into peal after peal of +hysterical laughter. + +"Look here! Drop it!" cried Smith, shaking him roughly by the shoulder. + +"Your nerves are all in a jangle. You must drop these little midnight +games with mummies, or you'll be going off your chump. You're all on +wires now." + +"I wonder," said Bellingham, "whether you would be as cool as I am if +you had seen----" + +"What then?" + +"Oh, nothing. I meant that I wonder if you could sit up at night with +a mummy without trying your nerves. I have no doubt that you are quite +right. I dare say that I have been taking it out of myself too much +lately. But I am all right now. Please don't go, though. Just wait +for a few minutes until I am quite myself." + +"The room is very close," remarked Lee, throwing open the window and +letting in the cool night air. + +"It's balsamic resin," said Bellingham. He lifted up one of the dried +palmate leaves from the table and frizzled it over the chimney of the +lamp. It broke away into heavy smoke wreaths, and a pungent, biting +odour filled the chamber. "It's the sacred plant--the plant of the +priests," he remarked. "Do you know anything of Eastern languages, +Smith?" + +"Nothing at all. Not a word." + +The answer seemed to lift a weight from the Egyptologist's mind. + +"By-the-way," he continued, "how long was it from the time that you ran +down, until I came to my senses?" + +"Not long. Some four or five minutes." + +"I thought it could not be very long," said he, drawing a long breath. +"But what a strange thing unconsciousness is! There is no measurement +to it. I could not tell from my own sensations if it were seconds or +weeks. Now that gentleman on the table was packed up in the days of +the eleventh dynasty, some forty centuries ago, and yet if he could +find his tongue he would tell us that this lapse of time has been but a +closing of the eyes and a reopening of them. He is a singularly fine +mummy, Smith." + +Smith stepped over to the table and looked down with a professional eye +at the black and twisted form in front of him. The features, though +horribly discoloured, were perfect, and two little nut-like eyes still +lurked in the depths of the black, hollow sockets. The blotched skin +was drawn tightly from bone to bone, and a tangled wrap of black coarse +hair fell over the ears. Two thin teeth, like those of a rat, overlay +the shrivelled lower lip. In its crouching position, with bent joints +and craned head, there was a suggestion of energy about the horrid +thing which made Smith's gorge rise. The gaunt ribs, with their +parchment-like covering, were exposed, and the sunken, leaden-hued +abdomen, with the long slit where the embalmer had left his mark; but +the lower limbs were wrapt round with coarse yellow bandages. A number +of little clove-like pieces of myrrh and of cassia were sprinkled over +the body, and lay scattered on the inside of the case. + +"I don't know his name," said Bellingham, passing his hand over the +shrivelled head. "You see the outer sarcophagus with the inscriptions +is missing. Lot 249 is all the title he has now. You see it printed +on his case. That was his number in the auction at which I picked him +up." + +"He has been a very pretty sort of fellow in his day," remarked +Abercrombie Smith. + +"He has been a giant. His mummy is six feet seven in length, and that +would be a giant over there, for they were never a very robust race. +Feel these great knotted bones, too. He would be a nasty fellow to +tackle." + +"Perhaps these very hands helped to build the stones into the +pyramids," suggested Monkhouse Lee, looking down with disgust in his +eyes at the crooked, unclean talons. + +"No fear. This fellow has been pickled in natron, and looked after in +the most approved style. They did not serve hodsmen in that fashion. +Salt or bitumen was enough for them. It has been calculated that this +sort of thing cost about seven hundred and thirty pounds in our money. +Our friend was a noble at the least. What do you make of that small +inscription near his feet, Smith?" + +"I told you that I know no Eastern tongue." + +"Ah, so you did. It is the name of the embalmer, I take it. A very +conscientious worker he must have been. I wonder how many modern works +will survive four thousand years?" + +He kept on speaking lightly and rapidly, but it was evident to +Abercrombie Smith that he was still palpitating with fear. His hands +shook, his lower lip trembled, and look where he would, his eye always +came sliding round to his gruesome companion. Through all his fear, +however, there was a suspicion of triumph in his tone and manner. His +eye shone, and his footstep, as he paced the room, was brisk and +jaunty. He gave the impression of a man who has gone through an +ordeal, the marks of which he still bears upon him, but which has +helped him to his end. + +"You're not going yet?" he cried, as Smith rose from the sofa. + +At the prospect of solitude, his fears seemed to crowd back upon him, +and he stretched out a hand to detain him. + +"Yes, I must go. I have my work to do. You are all right now. I +think that with your nervous system you should take up some less morbid +study." + +"Oh, I am not nervous as a rule; and I have unwrapped mummies before." + +"You fainted last time," observed Monkhouse Lee. + +"Ah, yes, so I did. Well, I must have a nerve tonic or a course of +electricity. You are not going, Lee?" + +"I'll do whatever you wish, Ned." + +"Then I'll come down with you and have a shake-down on your sofa. +Good-night, Smith. I am so sorry to have disturbed you with my +foolishness." + +They shook hands, and as the medical student stumbled up the spiral and +irregular stair he heard a key turn in a door, and the steps of his two +new acquaintances as they descended to the lower floor. + + +In this strange way began the acquaintance between Edward Bellingham +and Abercrombie Smith, an acquaintance which the latter, at least, had +no desire to push further. Bellingham, however, appeared to have taken +a fancy to his rough-spoken neighbour, and made his advances in such a +way that he could hardly be repulsed without absolute brutality. Twice +he called to thank Smith for his assistance, and many times afterwards +he looked in with books, papers, and such other civilities as two +bachelor neighbours can offer each other. He was, as Smith soon found, +a man of wide reading, with catholic tastes and an extraordinary +memory. His manner, too, was so pleasing and suave that one came, +after a time, to overlook his repellent appearance. For a jaded and +wearied man he was no unpleasant companion, and Smith found himself, +after a time, looking forward to his visits, and even returning them. + +Clever as he undoubtedly was, however, the medical student seemed to +detect a dash of insanity in the man. He broke out at times into a +high, inflated style of talk which was in contrast with the simplicity +of his life. + +"It is a wonderful thing," he cried, "to feel that one can command +powers of good and of evil--a ministering angel or a demon of +vengeance." And again, of Monkhouse Lee, he said,--"Lee is a good +fellow, an honest fellow, but he is without strength or ambition. He +would not make a fit partner for a man with a great enterprise. He +would not make a fit partner for me." + +At such hints and innuendoes stolid Smith, puffing solemnly at his +pipe, would simply raise his eyebrows and shake his head, with little +interjections of medical wisdom as to earlier hours and fresher air. + +One habit Bellingham had developed of late which Smith knew to be a +frequent herald of a weakening mind. He appeared to be forever talking +to himself. At late hours of the night, when there could be no visitor +with him, Smith could still hear his voice beneath him in a low, +muffled monologue, sunk almost to a whisper, and yet very audible in +the silence. This solitary babbling annoyed and distracted the +student, so that he spoke more than once to his neighbour about it. +Bellingham, however, flushed up at the charge, and denied curtly that +he had uttered a sound; indeed, he showed more annoyance over the +matter than the occasion seemed to demand. + +Had Abercrombie Smith had any doubt as to his own ears he had not to go +far to find corroboration. Tom Styles, the little wrinkled man-servant +who had attended to the wants of the lodgers in the turret for a longer +time than any man's memory could carry him, was sorely put to it over +the same matter. + +"If you please, sir," said he, as he tidied down the top chamber one +morning, "do you think Mr. Bellingham is all right, sir?" + +"All right, Styles?" + +"Yes sir. Right in his head, sir." + +"Why should he not be, then?" + +"Well, I don't know, sir. His habits has changed of late. He's not +the same man he used to be, though I make free to say that he was never +quite one of my gentlemen, like Mr. Hastie or yourself, sir. He's took +to talkin' to himself something awful. I wonder it don't disturb you. +I don't know what to make of him, sir." + +"I don't know what business it is of yours, Styles." + +"Well, I takes an interest, Mr. Smith. It may be forward of me, but I +can't help it. I feel sometimes as if I was mother and father to my +young gentlemen. It all falls on me when things go wrong and the +relations come. But Mr. Bellingham, sir. I want to know what it is +that walks about his room sometimes when he's out and when the door's +locked on the outside." + +"Eh! you're talking nonsense, Styles." + +"Maybe so, sir; but I heard it more'n once with my own ears." + +"Rubbish, Styles." + +"Very good, sir. You'll ring the bell if you want me." + +Abercrombie Smith gave little heed to the gossip of the old +man-servant, but a small incident occurred a few days later which left +an unpleasant effect upon his mind, and brought the words of Styles +forcibly to his memory. + +Bellingham had come up to see him late one night, and was entertaining +him with an interesting account of the rock tombs of Beni Hassan in +Upper Egypt, when Smith, whose hearing was remarkably acute, distinctly +heard the sound of a door opening on the landing below. + +"There's some fellow gone in or out of your room," he remarked. + +Bellingham sprang up and stood helpless for a moment, with the +expression of a man who is half incredulous and half afraid. + +"I surely locked it. I am almost positive that I locked it," he +stammered. "No one could have opened it." + +"Why, I hear someone coming up the steps now," said Smith. + +Bellingham rushed out through the door, slammed it loudly behind him, +and hurried down the stairs. About half-way down Smith heard him stop, +and thought he caught the sound of whispering. A moment later the door +beneath him shut, a key creaked in a lock, and Bellingham, with beads +of moisture upon his pale face, ascended the stairs once more, and +re-entered the room. + +"It's all right," he said, throwing himself down in a chair. "It was +that fool of a dog. He had pushed the door open. I don't know how I +came to forget to lock it." + +"I didn't know you kept a dog," said Smith, looking very thoughtfully +at the disturbed face of his companion. + +"Yes, I haven't had him long. I must get rid of him. He's a great +nuisance." + +"He must be, if you find it so hard to shut him up. I should have +thought that shutting the door would have been enough, without locking +it." + +"I want to prevent old Styles from letting him out. He's of some +value, you know, and it would be awkward to lose him." + +"I am a bit of a dog-fancier myself," said Smith, still gazing hard at +his companion from the corner of his eyes. "Perhaps you'll let me have +a look at it." + +"Certainly. But I am afraid it cannot be to-night; I have an +appointment. Is that clock right? Then I am a quarter of an hour late +already. You'll excuse me, I am sure." + +He picked up his cap and hurried from the room. In spite of his +appointment, Smith heard him re-enter his own chamber and lock his door +upon the inside. + +This interview left a disagreeable impression upon the medical +student's mind. Bellingham had lied to him, and lied so clumsily that +it looked as if he had desperate reasons for concealing the truth. +Smith knew that his neighbour had no dog. He knew, also, that the step +which he had heard upon the stairs was not the step of an animal. But +if it were not, then what could it be? There was old Styles's +statement about the something which used to pace the room at times when +the owner was absent. Could it be a woman? Smith rather inclined to +the view. If so, it would mean disgrace and expulsion to Bellingham if +it were discovered by the authorities, so that his anxiety and +falsehoods might be accounted for. And yet it was inconceivable that +an undergraduate could keep a woman in his rooms without being +instantly detected. Be the explanation what it might, there was +something ugly about it, and Smith determined, as he turned to his +books, to discourage all further attempts at intimacy on the part of +his soft-spoken and ill-favoured neighbour. + +But his work was destined to interruption that night. He had hardly +caught tip the broken threads when a firm, heavy footfall came three +steps at a time from below, and Hastie, in blazer and flannels, burst +into the room. + +"Still at it!" said he, plumping down into his wonted arm-chair. "What +a chap you are to stew! I believe an earthquake might come and knock +Oxford into a cocked hat, and you would sit perfectly placid with your +books among the rains. However, I won't bore you long. Three whiffs +of baccy, and I am off." + +"What's the news, then?" asked Smith, cramming a plug of bird's-eye +into his briar with his forefinger. + +"Nothing very much. Wilson made 70 for the freshmen against the +eleven. They say that they will play him instead of Buddicomb, for +Buddicomb is clean off colour. He used to be able to bowl a little, +but it's nothing but half-vollies and long hops now." + +"Medium right," suggested Smith, with the intense gravity which comes +upon a 'varsity man when he speaks of athletics. + +"Inclining to fast, with a work from leg. Comes with the arm about +three inches or so. He used to be nasty on a wet wicket. Oh, +by-the-way, have you heard about Long Norton?" + +"What's that?" + +"He's been attacked." + +"Attacked?" + +"Yes, just as he was turning out of the High Street, and within a +hundred yards of the gate of Old's." + +"But who----" + +"Ah, that's the rub! If you said 'what,' you would be more +grammatical. Norton swears that it was not human, and, indeed, from +the scratches on his throat, I should be inclined to agree with him." + +"What, then? Have we come down to spooks?" + +Abercrombie Smith puffed his scientific contempt. + +"Well, no; I don't think that is quite the idea, either. I am inclined +to think that if any showman has lost a great ape lately, and the brute +is in these parts, a jury would find a true bill against it. Norton +passes that way every night, you know, about the same hour. There's a +tree that hangs low over the path--the big elm from Rainy's garden. +Norton thinks the thing dropped on him out of the tree. Anyhow, he was +nearly strangled by two arms, which, he says, were as strong and as +thin as steel bands. He saw nothing; only those beastly arms that +tightened and tightened on him. He yelled his head nearly off, and a +couple of chaps came running, and the thing went over the wall like a +cat. He never got a fair sight of it the whole time. It gave Norton a +shake up, I can tell you. I tell him it has been as good as a change +at the sea-side for him." + +"A garrotter, most likely," said Smith. + +"Very possibly. Norton says not; but we don't mind what he says. The +garrotter had long nails, and was pretty smart at swinging himself over +walls. By-the-way, your beautiful neighbour would be pleased if he +heard about it. He had a grudge against Norton, and he's not a man, +from what I know of him, to forget his little debts. But hallo, old +chap, what have you got in your noddle?" + +"Nothing," Smith answered curtly. + +He had started in his chair, and the look had flashed over his face +which comes upon a man who is struck suddenly by some unpleasant idea. + +"You looked as if something I had said had taken you on the raw. +By-the-way, you have made the acquaintance of Master B. since I looked +in last, have you not? Young Monkhouse Lee told me something to that +effect." + +"Yes; I know him slightly. He has been up here once or twice." + +"Well, you're big enough and ugly enough to take care of yourself. +He's not what I should call exactly a healthy sort of Johnny, though, +no doubt, he's very clever, and all that. But you'll soon find out for +yourself. Lee is all right; he's a very decent little fellow. Well, +so long, old chap! I row Mullins for the Vice-Chancellor's pot on +Wednesday week, so mind you come down, in case I don't see you before." + +Bovine Smith laid down his pipe and turned stolidly to his books once +more. But with all the will in the world, he found it very hard to +keep his mind upon his work. It would slip away to brood upon the man +beneath him, and upon the little mystery which hung round his chambers. +Then his thoughts turned to this singular attack of which Hastie had +spoken, and to the grudge which Bellingham was said to owe the object +of it. The two ideas would persist in rising together in his mind, as +though there were some close and intimate connection between them. And +yet the suspicion was so dim and vague that it could not be put down in +words. + +"Confound the chap!" cried Smith, as he shied his book on pathology +across the room. "He has spoiled my night's reading, and that's reason +enough, if there were no other, why I should steer clear of him in the +future." + +For ten days the medical student confined himself so closely to his +studies that he neither saw nor heard anything of either of the men +beneath him. At the hours when Bellingham had been accustomed to visit +him, he took care to sport his oak, and though he more than once heard +a knocking at his outer door, he resolutely refused to answer it. One +afternoon, however, he was descending the stairs when, just as he was +passing it, Bellingham's door flew open, and young Monkhouse Lee came +out with his eyes sparkling and a dark flush of anger upon his olive +cheeks. Close at his heels followed Bellingham, his fat, unhealthy +face all quivering with malignant passion. + +"You fool!" he hissed. "You'll be sorry." + +"Very likely," cried the other. "Mind what I say. It's off! I won't +hear of it!" + +"You've promised, anyhow." + +"Oh, I'll keep that! I won't speak. But I'd rather little Eva was in +her grave. Once for all, it's off. She'll do what I say. We don't +want to see you again." + +So much Smith could not avoid hearing, but he hurried on, for he had no +wish to be involved in their dispute. There had been a serious breach +between them, that was clear enough, and Lee was going to cause the +engagement with his sister to be broken off. Smith thought of Hastie's +comparison of the toad and the dove, and was glad to think that the +matter was at an end. Bellingham's face when he was in a passion was +not pleasant to look upon. He was not a man to whom an innocent girl +could be trusted for life. As he walked, Smith wondered languidly what +could have caused the quarrel, and what the promise might be which +Bellingham had been so anxious that Monkhouse Lee should keep. + +It was the day of the sculling match between Hastie and Mullins, and a +stream of men were making their way down to the banks of the Isis. A +May sun was shining brightly, and the yellow path was barred with the +black shadows of the tall elm-trees. On either side the grey colleges +lay back from the road, the hoary old mothers of minds looking out from +their high, mullioned windows at the tide of young life which swept so +merrily past them. Black-clad tutors, prim officials, pale reading +men, brown-faced, straw-hatted young athletes in white sweaters or +many-coloured blazers, all were hurrying towards the blue winding river +which curves through the Oxford meadows. + +Abercrombie Smith, with the intuition of an old oarsman, chose his +position at the point where he knew that the struggle, if there were a +struggle, would come. Far off he heard the hum which announced the +start, the gathering roar of the approach, the thunder of running feet, +and the shouts of the men in the boats beneath him. A spray of +half-clad, deep-breathing runners shot past him, and craning over their +shoulders, he saw Hastie pulling a steady thirty-six, while his +opponent, with a jerky forty, was a good boat's length behind him. +Smith gave a cheer for his friend, and pulling out his watch, was +starting off again for his chambers, when he felt a touch upon his +shoulder, and found that young Monkhouse Lee was beside him. + +"I saw you there," he said, in a timid, deprecating way. "I wanted to +speak to you, if you could spare me a half-hour. This cottage is mine. +I share it with Harrington of King's. Come in and have a cup of tea." + +"I must be back presently," said Smith. "I am hard on the grind at +present. But I'll come in for a few minutes with pleasure. I wouldn't +have come out only Hastie is a friend of mine." + +"So he is of mine. Hasn't he a beautiful style? Mullins wasn't in it. +But come into the cottage. It's a little den of a place, but it is +pleasant to work in during the summer months." + +It was a small, square, white building, with green doors and shutters, +and a rustic trellis-work porch, standing back some fifty yards from +the river's bank. Inside, the main room was roughly fitted up as a +study--deal table, unpainted shelves with books, and a few cheap +oleographs upon the wall. A kettle sang upon a spirit-stove, and there +were tea things upon a tray on the table. + +"Try that chair and have a cigarette," said Lee. "Let me pour you out +a cup of tea. It's so good of you to come in, for I know that your +time is a good deal taken up. I wanted to say to you that, if I were +you, I should change my rooms at once." + +"Eh?" + +Smith sat staring with a lighted match in one hand and his unlit +cigarette in the other. + +"Yes; it must seem very extraordinary, and the worst of it is that I +cannot give my reasons, for I am under a solemn promise--a very solemn +promise. But I may go so far as to say that I don't think Bellingham +is a very safe man to live near. I intend to camp out here as much as +I can for a time." + +"Not safe! What do you mean?" + +"Ah, that's what I mustn't say. But do take my advice, and move your +rooms. We had a grand row to-day. You must have heard us, for you +came down the stairs." + +"I saw that you had fallen out." + +"He's a horrible chap, Smith. That is the only word for him. I have +had doubts about him ever since that night when he fainted--you +remember, when you came down. I taxed him to-day, and he told me +things that made my hair rise, and wanted me to stand in with him. I'm +not strait-laced, but I am a clergyman's son, you know, and I think +there are some things which are quite beyond the pale. I only thank +God that I found him out before it was too late, for he was to have +married into my family." + +"This is all very fine, Lee," said Abercrombie Smith curtly. "But +either you are saying a great deal too much or a great deal too little." + +"I give you a warning." + +"If there is real reason for warning, no promise can bind you. If I +see a rascal about to blow a place up with dynamite no pledge will +stand in my way of preventing him." + +"Ah, but I cannot prevent him, and I can do nothing but warn you." + +"Without saying what you warn me against." + +"Against Bellingham." + +"But that is childish. Why should I fear him, or any man?" + +"I can't tell you. I can only entreat you to change your rooms. You +are in danger where you are. I don't even say that Bellingham would +wish to injure you. But it might happen, for he is a dangerous +neighbour just now." + +"Perhaps I know more than you think," said Smith, looking keenly at the +young man's boyish, earnest face. "Suppose I tell you that some one +else shares Bellingham's rooms." + +Monkhouse Lee sprang from his chair in uncontrollable excitement. + +"You know, then?" he gasped. + +"A woman." + +Lee dropped back again with a groan. + +"My lips are sealed," he said. "I must not speak." + +"Well, anyhow," said Smith, rising, "it is not likely that I should +allow myself to be frightened out of rooms which suit me very nicely. +It would be a little too feeble for me to move out all my goods and +chattels because you say that Bellingham might in some unexplained way +do me an injury. I think that I'll just take my chance, and stay where +I am, and as I see that it's nearly five o'clock, I must ask you to +excuse me." + +He bade the young student adieu in a few curt words, and made his way +homeward through the sweet spring evening feeling half-ruffled, +half-amused, as any other strong, unimaginative man might who has been +menaced by a vague and shadowy danger. + +There was one little indulgence which Abercrombie Smith always allowed +himself, however closely his work might press upon him. Twice a week, +on the Tuesday and the Friday, it was his invariable custom to walk +over to Farlingford, the residence of Dr. Plumptree Peterson, situated +about a mile and a half out of Oxford. Peterson had been a close +friend of Smith's elder brother Francis, and as he was a bachelor, +fairly well-to-do, with a good cellar and a better library, his house +was a pleasant goal for a man who was in need of a brisk walk. Twice a +week, then, the medical student would swing out there along the dark +country roads, and spend a pleasant hour in Peterson's comfortable +study, discussing, over a glass of old port, the gossip of the 'varsity +or the latest developments of medicine or of surgery. + +On the day which followed his interview with Monkhouse Lee, Smith shut +up his books at a quarter past eight, the hour when he usually started +for his friend's house. As he was leaving his room, however, his eyes +chanced to fall upon one of the books which Bellingham had lent him, +and his conscience pricked him for not having returned it. However +repellent the man might be, he should not be treated with discourtesy. +Taking the book, he walked downstairs and knocked at his neighbour's +door. There was no answer; but on turning the handle he found that it +was unlocked. Pleased at the thought of avoiding an interview, he +stepped inside, and placed the book with his card upon the table. + +The lamp was turned half down, but Smith could see the details of the +room plainly enough. It was all much as he had seen it before--the +frieze, the animal-headed gods, the banging crocodile, and the table +littered over with papers and dried leaves. The mummy case stood +upright against the wall, but the mummy itself was missing. There was +no sign of any second occupant of the room, and he felt as he withdrew +that he had probably done Bellingham an injustice. Had he a guilty +secret to preserve, he would hardly leave his door open so that all the +world might enter. + +The spiral stair was as black as pitch, and Smith was slowly making his +way down its irregular steps, when he was suddenly conscious that +something had passed him in the darkness. There was a faint sound, a +whiff of air, a light brushing past his elbow, but so slight that he +could scarcely be certain of it. He stopped and listened, but the wind +was rustling among the ivy outside, and he could hear nothing else. + +"Is that you, Styles?" he shouted. + +There was no answer, and all was still behind him. It must have been a +sudden gust of air, for there were crannies and cracks in the old +turret. And yet he could almost have sworn that he heard a footfall by +his very side. He had emerged into the quadrangle, still turning the +matter over in his head, when a man came running swiftly across the +smooth-cropped lawn. + +"Is that you, Smith?" + +"Hullo, Hastie!" + +"For God's sake come at once! Young Lee is drowned! Here's Harrington +of King's with the news. The doctor is out. You'll do, but come along +at once. There may be life in him." + +"Have you brandy?" + +"No." + +"I'll bring some. There's a flask on my table." + +Smith bounded up the stairs, taking three at a time, seized the flask, +and was rushing down with it, when, as he passed Bellingham's room, his +eyes fell upon something which left him gasping and staring upon the +landing. + +The door, which he had closed behind him, was now open, and right in +front of him, with the lamp-light shining upon it, was the mummy case. +Three minutes ago it had been empty. He could swear to that. Now it +framed the lank body of its horrible occupant, who stood, grim and +stark, with his black shrivelled face towards the door. The form was +lifeless and inert, but it seemed to Smith as he gazed that there still +lingered a lurid spark of vitality, some faint sign of consciousness in +the little eyes which lurked in the depths of the hollow sockets. So +astounded and shaken was he that he had forgotten his errand, and was +still staring at the lean, sunken figure when the voice of his friend +below recalled him to himself. + +"Come on, Smith!" he shouted. "It's life and death, you know. Hurry +up! Now, then," he added, as the medical student reappeared, "let us +do a sprint. It is well under a mile, and we should do it in five +minutes. A human life is better worth running for than a pot." + +Neck and neck they dashed through the darkness, and did not pull up +until, panting and spent, they had reached the little cottage by the +river. Young Lee, limp and dripping like a broken water-plant, was +stretched upon the sofa, the green scum of the river upon his black +hair, and a fringe of white foam upon his leaden-hued lips. Beside him +knelt his fellow-student Harrington, endeavouring to chafe some warmth +back into his rigid limbs. + +"I think there's life in him," said Smith, with his hand to the lad's +side. "Put your watch glass to his lips. Yes, there's dimming on it. +You take one arm, Hastie. Now work it as I do, and we'll soon pull him +round." + +For ten minutes they worked in silence, inflating and depressing the +chest of the unconscious man. At the end of that time a shiver ran +through his body, his lips trembled, and he opened his eyes. The three +students burst out into an irrepressible cheer. + +"Wake up, old chap. You've frightened us quite enough." + +"Have some brandy. Take a sip from the flask." + +"He's all right now," said his companion Harrington. "Heavens, what a +fright I got! I was reading here, and he had gone for a stroll as far +as the river, when I heard a scream and a splash. Out I ran, and by +the time that I could find him and fish him out, all life seemed to +have gone. Then Simpson couldn't get a doctor, for he has a game-leg, +and I had to run, and I don't know what I'd have done without you +fellows. That's right, old chap. Sit up." + +Monkhouse Lee had raised himself on his hands, and looked wildly about +him. + +"What's up?" he asked. "I've been in the water. Ah, yes; I remember." + +A look of fear came into his eyes, and he sank his face into his hands. + +"How did you fall in?" + +"I didn't fall in." + +"How, then?" + +"I was thrown in. I was standing by the bank, and something from +behind picked me up like a feather and hurled me in. I heard nothing, +and I saw nothing. But I know what it was, for all that." + +"And so do I," whispered Smith. + +Lee looked up with a quick glance of surprise. "You've learned, then!" +he said. "You remember the advice I gave you?" + +"Yes, and I begin to think that I shall take it." + +"I don't know what the deuce you fellows are talking about," said +Hastie, "but I think, if I were you, Harrington, I should get Lee to +bed at once. It will be time enough to discuss the why and the +wherefore when he is a little stronger. I think, Smith, you and I can +leave him alone now. I am walking back to college; if you are coming +in that direction, we can have a chat." + +But it was little chat that they had upon their homeward path. Smith's +mind was too full of the incidents of the evening, the absence of the +mummy from his neighbour's rooms, the step that passed him on the +stair, the reappearance--the extraordinary, inexplicable reappearance +of the grisly thing--and then this attack upon Lee, corresponding so +closely to the previous outrage upon another man against whom +Bellingham bore a grudge. All this settled in his thoughts, together +with the many little incidents which had previously turned him against +his neighbour, and the singular circumstances under which he was first +called in to him. What had been a dim suspicion, a vague, fantastic +conjecture, had suddenly taken form, and stood out in his mind as a +grim fact, a thing not to be denied. And yet, how monstrous it was! +how unheard of! how entirely beyond all bounds of human experience. An +impartial judge, or even the friend who walked by his side, would +simply tell him that his eyes had deceived him, that the mummy had been +there all the time, that young Lee had tumbled into the river as any +other man tumbles into a river, and that a blue pill was the best thing +for a disordered liver. He felt that he would have said as much if the +positions had been reversed. And yet he could swear that Bellingham +was a murderer at heart, and that he wielded a weapon such as no man +had ever used in all the grim history of crime. + +Hastie had branched off to his rooms with a few crisp and emphatic +comments upon his friend's unsociability, and Abercrombie Smith crossed +the quadrangle to his corner turret with a strong feeling of repulsion +for his chambers and their associations. He would take Lee's advice, +and move his quarters as soon as possible, for how could a man study +when his ear was ever straining for every murmur or footstep in the +room below? He observed, as he crossed over the lawn, that the light +was still shining in Bellingham's window, and as he passed up the +staircase the door opened, and the man himself looked out at him. With +his fat, evil face he was like some bloated spider fresh from the +weaving of his poisonous web. + +"Good-evening," said he. "Won't you come in?" + +"No," cried Smith, fiercely. + +"No? You are busy as ever? I wanted to ask you about Lee. I was +sorry to hear that there was a rumour that something was amiss with +him." + +His features were grave, but there was the gleam of a hidden laugh in +his eyes as he spoke. Smith saw it, and he could have knocked him down +for it. + +"You'll be sorrier still to hear that Monkhouse Lee is doing very well, +and is out of all danger," he answered. "Your hellish tricks have not +come off this time. Oh, you needn't try to brazen it out. I know all +about it." + +Bellingham took a step back from the angry student, and half-closed the +door as if to protect himself. + +"You are mad," he said. "What do you mean? Do you assert that I had +anything to do with Lee's accident?" + +"Yes," thundered Smith. "You and that bag of bones behind you; you +worked it between you. I tell you what it is, Master B., they have +given up burning folk like you, but we still keep a hangman, and, by +George! if any man in this college meets his death while you are here, +I'll have you up, and if you don't swing for it, it won't be my fault. +You'll find that your filthy Egyptian tricks won't answer in England." + +"You're a raving lunatic," said Bellingham. + +"All right. You just remember what I say, for you'll find that I'll be +better than my word." + +The door slammed, and Smith went fuming up to his chamber, where he +locked the door upon the inside, and spent half the night in smoking +his old briar and brooding over the strange events of the evening. + +Next morning Abercrombie Smith heard nothing of his neighbour, but +Harrington called upon him in the afternoon to say that Lee was almost +himself again. All day Smith stuck fast to his work, but in the +evening he determined to pay the visit to his friend Dr. Peterson upon +which he had started upon the night before. A good walk and a friendly +chat would be welcome to his jangled nerves. + +Bellingham's door was shut as he passed, but glancing back when he was +some distance from the turret, he saw his neighbour's head at the +window outlined against the lamp-light, his face pressed apparently +against the glass as he gazed out into the darkness. It was a blessing +to be away from all contact with him, but if for a few hours, and Smith +stepped out briskly, and breathed the soft spring air into his lungs. +The half-moon lay in the west between two Gothic pinnacles, and threw +upon the silvered street a dark tracery from the stone-work above. +There was a brisk breeze, and light, fleecy clouds drifted swiftly +across the sky. Old's was on the very border of the town, and in five +minutes Smith found himself beyond the houses and between the hedges of +a May-scented Oxfordshire lane. + +It was a lonely and little frequented road which led to his friend's +house. Early as it was, Smith did not meet a single soul upon his way. +He walked briskly along until he came to the avenue gate, which opened +into the long gravel drive leading up to Farlingford. In front of him +he could see the cosy red light of the windows glimmering through the +foliage. He stood with his hand upon the iron latch of the swinging +gate, and he glanced back at the road along which he had come. +Something was coming swiftly down it. + +It moved in the shadow of the hedge, silently and furtively, a dark, +crouching figure, dimly visible against the black background. Even as +he gazed back at it, it had lessened its distance by twenty paces, and +was fast closing upon him. Out of the darkness he had a glimpse of a +scraggy neck, and of two eyes that will ever haunt him in his dreams. +He turned, and with a cry of terror he ran for his life up the avenue. +There were the red lights, the signals of safety, almost within a +stone's throw of him. He was a famous runner, but never had he run as +he ran that night. + +The heavy gate had swung into place behind him, but he heard it dash +open again before his pursuer. As he rushed madly and wildly through +the night, he could hear a swift, dry patter behind him, and could see, +as he threw back a glance, that this horror was bounding like a tiger +at his heels, with blazing eyes and one stringy arm outthrown. Thank +God, the door was ajar. He could see the thin bar of light which shot +from the lamp in the hall. Nearer yet sounded the clatter from behind. +He heard a hoarse gurgling at his very shoulder. With a shriek he +flung himself against the door, slammed and bolted it behind him, and +sank half-fainting on to the hall chair. + +"My goodness, Smith, what's the matter?" asked Peterson, appearing at +the door of his study. + +"Give me some brandy!" + +Peterson disappeared, and came rushing out again with a glass and a +decanter. + +"You need it," he said, as his visitor drank off what he poured out for +him. "Why, man, you are as white as a cheese." + +Smith laid down his glass, rose up, and took a deep breath. + +"I am my own man again now," said he. "I was never so unmanned before. +But, with your leave, Peterson, I will sleep here to-night, for I don't +think I could face that road again except by daylight. It's weak, I +know, but I can't help it." + +Peterson looked at his visitor with a very questioning eye. + +"Of course you shall sleep here if you wish. I'll tell Mrs. Burney to +make up the spare bed. Where are you off to now?" + +"Come up with me to the window that overlooks the door. I want you to +see what I have seen." + +They went up to the window of the upper hall whence they could look +down upon the approach to the house. The drive and the fields on +either side lay quiet and still, bathed in the peaceful moonlight. + +"Well, really, Smith," remarked Peterson, "it is well that I know you +to be an abstemious man. What in the world can have frightened you?" + +"I'll tell you presently. But where can it have gone? Ah, now look, +look! See the curve of the road just beyond your gate." + +"Yes, I see; you needn't pinch my arm off. I saw someone pass. I +should say a man, rather thin, apparently, and tall, very tall. But +what of him? And what of yourself? You are still shaking like an +aspen leaf." + +"I have been within hand-grip of the devil, that's all. But come down +to your study, and I shall tell you the whole story." + +He did so. Under the cheery lamplight, with a glass of wine on the +table beside him, and the portly form and florid face of his friend in +front, he narrated, in their order, all the events, great and small, +which had formed so singular a chain, from the night on which he had +found Bellingham fainting in front of the mummy case until his horrid +experience of an hour ago. + +"There now," he said as he concluded, "that's the whole black business. +It is monstrous and incredible, but it is true." + +Dr. Plumptree Peterson sat for some time in silence with a very puzzled +expression upon his face. + +"I never heard of such a thing in my life, never!" he said at last. +"You have told me the facts. Now tell me your inferences." + +"You can draw your own." + +"But I should like to hear yours. You have thought over the matter, +and I have not." + +"Well, it must be a little vague in detail, but the main points seem to +me to be clear enough. This fellow Bellingham, in his Eastern studies, +has got hold of some infernal secret by which a mummy--or possibly only +this particular mummy--can be temporarily brought to life. He was +trying this disgusting business on the night when he fainted. No doubt +the sight of the creature moving had shaken his nerve, even though he +had expected it. You remember that almost the first words he said were +to call out upon himself as a fool. Well, he got more hardened +afterwards, and carried the matter through without fainting. The +vitality which he could put into it was evidently only a passing thing, +for I have seen it continually in its case as dead as this table. He +has some elaborate process, I fancy, by which he brings the thing to +pass. Having done it, he naturally bethought him that he might use the +creature as an agent. It has intelligence and it has strength. For +some purpose he took Lee into his confidence; but Lee, like a decent +Christian, would have nothing to do with such a business. Then they +had a row, and Lee vowed that he would tell his sister of Bellingham's +true character. Bellingham's game was to prevent him, and he nearly +managed it, by setting this creature of his on his track. He had +already tried its powers upon another man--Norton--towards whom he had +a grudge. It is the merest chance that he has not two murders upon his +soul. Then, when I taxed him with the matter, he had the strongest +reasons for wishing to get me out of the way before I could convey my +knowledge to anyone else. He got his chance when I went out, for he +knew my habits, and where I was bound for. I have had a narrow shave, +Peterson, and it is mere luck you didn't find me on your doorstep in +the morning. I'm not a nervous man as a rule, and I never thought to +have the fear of death put upon me as it was to-night." + +"My dear boy, you take the matter too seriously," said his companion. +"Your nerves are out of order with your work, and you make too much of +it. How could such a thing as this stride about the streets of Oxford, +even at night, without being seen?" + +"It has been seen. There is quite a scare in the town about an escaped +ape, as they imagine the creature to be. It is the talk of the place." + +"Well, it's a striking chain of events. And yet, my dear fellow, you +must allow that each incident in itself is capable of a more natural +explanation." + +"What! even my adventure of to-night?" + +"Certainly. You come out with your nerves all unstrung, and your head +full of this theory of yours. Some gaunt, half-famished tramp steals +after you, and seeing you run, is emboldened to pursue you. Your fears +and imagination do the rest." + +"It won't do, Peterson; it won't do." + +"And again, in the instance of your finding the mummy case empty, and +then a few moments later with an occupant, you know that it was +lamplight, that the lamp was half turned down, and that you had no +special reason to look hard at the case. It is quite possible that you +may have overlooked the creature in the first instance." + +"No, no; it is out of the question." + +"And then Lee may have fallen into the river, and Norton been +garrotted. It is certainly a formidable indictment that you have +against Bellingham; but if you were to place it before a police +magistrate, he would simply laugh in your face." + +"I know he would. That is why I mean to take the matter into my own +hands." + +"Eh?" + +"Yes; I feel that a public duty rests upon me, and, besides, I must do +it for my own safety, unless I choose to allow myself to be hunted by +this beast out of the college, and that would be a little too feeble. +I have quite made up my mind what I shall do. And first of all, may I +use your paper and pens for an hour?" + +"Most certainly. You will find all that you want upon that side table." + +Abercrombie Smith sat down before a sheet of foolscap, and for an hour, +and then for a second hour his pen travelled swiftly over it. Page +after page was finished and tossed aside while his friend leaned back +in his arm-chair, looking across at him with patient curiosity. At +last, with an exclamation of satisfaction, Smith sprang to his feet, +gathered his papers up into order, and laid the last one upon +Peterson's desk. + +"Kindly sign this as a witness," he said. + +"A witness? Of what?" + +"Of my signature, and of the date. The date is the most important. +Why, Peterson, my life might hang upon it." + +"My dear Smith, you are talking wildly. Let me beg you to go to bed." + +"On the contrary, I never spoke so deliberately in my life. And I will +promise to go to bed the moment you have signed it." + +"But what is it?" + +"It is a statement of all that I have been telling you to-night. I +wish you to witness it." + +"Certainly," said Peterson, signing his name under that of his +companion. "There you are! But what is the idea?" + +"You will kindly retain it, and produce it in case I am arrested." + +"Arrested? For what?" + +"For murder. It is quite on the cards. I wish to be ready for every +event. There is only one course open to me, and I am determined to +take it." + +"For Heaven's sake, don't do anything rash!" + +"Believe me, it would be far more rash to adopt any other course. I +hope that we won't need to bother you, but it will ease my mind to know +that you have this statement of my motives. And now I am ready to take +your advice and to go to roost, for I want to be at my best in the +morning." + + +Abercrombie Smith was not an entirely pleasant man to have as an enemy. +Slow and easytempered, he was formidable when driven to action. He +brought to every purpose in life the same deliberate resoluteness which +had distinguished him as a scientific student. He had laid his studies +aside for a day, but he intended that the day should not be wasted. +Not a word did he say to his host as to his plans, but by nine o'clock +he was well on his way to Oxford. + +In the High Street he stopped at Clifford's, the gun-maker's, and +bought a heavy revolver, with a box of central-fire cartridges. Six of +them he slipped into the chambers, and half-cocking the weapon, placed +it in the pocket of his coat. He then made his way to Hastie's rooms, +where the big oarsman was lounging over his breakfast, with the +Sporting Times propped up against the coffeepot. + +"Hullo! What's up?" he asked. "Have some coffee?" + +"No, thank you. I want you to come with me, Hastie, and do what I ask +you." + +"Certainly, my boy." + +"And bring a heavy stick with you." + +"Hullo!" Hastie stared. "Here's a hunting-crop that would fell an ox." + +"One other thing. You have a box of amputating knives. Give me the +longest of them." + +"There you are. You seem to be fairly on the war trail. Anything +else?" + +"No; that will do." Smith placed the knife inside his coat, and led the +way to the quadrangle. "We are neither of us chickens, Hastie," said +he. "I think I can do this job alone, but I take you as a precaution. +I am going to have a little talk with Bellingham. If I have only him +to deal with, I won't, of course, need you. If I shout, however, up +you come, and lam out with your whip as hard as you can lick. Do you +understand?" + +"All right. I'll come if I hear you bellow." + +"Stay here, then. It may be a little time, but don't budge until I +come down." + +"I'm a fixture." + +Smith ascended the stairs, opened Bellingham's door and stepped in. +Bellingham was seated behind his table, writing. Beside him, among his +litter of strange possessions, towered the mummy case, with its sale +number 249 still stuck upon its front, and its hideous occupant stiff +and stark within it. Smith looked very deliberately round him, closed +the door, locked it, took the key from the inside, and then stepping +across to the fireplace, struck a match and set the fire alight. +Bellingham sat staring, with amazement and rage upon his bloated face. + +"Well, really now, you make yourself at home," he gasped. + +Smith sat himself deliberately down, placing his watch upon the table, +drew out his pistol, cocked it, and laid it in his lap. Then he took +the long amputating knife from his bosom, and threw it down in front of +Bellingham. + +"Now, then," said he, "just get to work and cut up that mummy." + +"Oh, is that it?" said Bellingham with a sneer. + +"Yes, that is it. They tell me that the law can't touch you. But I +have a law that will set matters straight. If in five minutes you have +not set to work, I swear by the God who made me that I will put a +bullet through your brain!" + +"You would murder me?" + +Bellingham had half risen, and his face was the colour of putty. + +"Yes." + +"And for what?" + +"To stop your mischief. One minute has gone." + +"But what have I done?" + +"I know and you know." + +"This is mere bullying." + +"Two minutes are gone." + +"But you must give reasons. You are a madman--a dangerous madman. Why +should I destroy my own property? It is a valuable mummy." + +"You must cut it up, and you must burn it." + +"I will do no such thing." + +"Four minutes are gone." + +Smith took up the pistol and he looked towards Bellingham with an +inexorable face. As the second-hand stole round, he raised his hand, +and the finger twitched upon the trigger. + +"There! there! I'll do it!" screamed Bellingham. + +In frantic haste he caught up the knife and hacked at the figure of the +mummy, ever glancing round to see the eye and the weapon of his +terrible visitor bent upon him. The creature crackled and snapped +under every stab of the keen blade. A thick yellow dust rose up from +it. Spices and dried essences rained down upon the floor. Suddenly, +with a rending crack, its backbone snapped asunder, and it fell, a +brown heap of sprawling limbs, upon the floor. + +"Now into the fire!" said Smith. + +The flames leaped and roared as the dried and tinderlike debris was +piled upon it. The little room was like the stoke-hole of a steamer +and the sweat ran down the faces of the two men; but still the one +stooped and worked, while the other sat watching him with a set face. +A thick, fat smoke oozed out from the fire, and a heavy smell of burned +rosin and singed hair filled the air. In a quarter of an hour a few +charred and brittle sticks were all that was left of Lot No. 249. + +"Perhaps that will satisfy you," snarled Bellingham, with hate and fear +in his little grey eyes as he glanced back at his tormenter. + +"No; I must make a clean sweep of all your materials. We must have no +more devil's tricks. In with all these leaves! They may have +something to do with it." + +"And what now?" asked Bellingham, when the leaves also had been added +to the blaze. + +"Now the roll of papyrus which you had on the table that night. It is +in that drawer, I think." + +"No, no," shouted Bellingham. "Don't burn that! Why, man, you don't +know what you do. It is unique; it contains wisdom which is nowhere +else to be found." + +"Out with it!" + +"But look here, Smith, you can't really mean it. I'll share the +knowledge with you. I'll teach you all that is in it. Or, stay, let +me only copy it before you burn it!" + +Smith stepped forward and turned the key in the drawer. Taking out the +yellow, curled roll of paper, he threw it into the fire, and pressed it +down with his heel. Bellingham screamed, and grabbed at it; but Smith +pushed him back, and stood over it until it was reduced to a formless +grey ash. + +"Now, Master B.," said he, "I think I have pretty well drawn your +teeth. You'll hear from me again, if you return to your old tricks. +And now good-morning, for I must go back to my studies." + +And such is the narrative of Abercrombie Smith as to the singular +events which occurred in Old College, Oxford, in the spring of '84. As +Bellingham left the university immediately afterwards, and was last +heard of in the Soudan, there is no one who can contradict his +statement. But the wisdom of men is small, and the ways of nature are +strange, and who shall put a bound to the dark things which may be +found by those who seek for them? + + + + +THE LOS AMIGOS FIASCO. + +I used to be the leading practitioner of Los Amigos. Of course, +everyone has heard of the great electrical generating gear there. The +town is wide spread, and there are dozens of little townlets and +villages all round, which receive their supply from the same centre, so +that the works are on a very large scale. The Los Amigos folk say that +they are the largest upon earth, but then we claim that for everything +in Los Amigos except the gaol and the death-rate. Those are said to be +the smallest. + +Now, with so fine an electrical supply, it seemed to be a sinful waste +of hemp that the Los Amigos criminals should perish in the +old-fashioned manner. And then came the news of the eleotrocutions in +the East, and how the results had not after all been so instantaneous +as had been hoped. The Western Engineers raised their eyebrows when +they read of the puny shocks by which these men had perished, and they +vowed in Los Amigos that when an irreclaimable came their way he should +be dealt handsomely by, and have the run of all the big dynamos. There +should be no reserve, said the engineers, but he should have all that +they had got. And what the result of that would be none could predict, +save that it must be absolutely blasting and deadly. Never before had +a man been so charged with electricity as they would charge him. He +was to be smitten by the essence of ten thunderbolts. Some prophesied +combustion, and some disintegration and disappearance. They were +waiting eagerly to settle the question by actual demonstration, and it +was just at that moment that Duncan Warner came that way. + +Warner had been wanted by the law, and by nobody else, for many years. +Desperado, murderer, train robber and road agent, he was a man beyond +the pale of human pity. He had deserved a dozen deaths, and the Los +Amigos folk grudged him so gaudy a one as that. He seemed to feel +himself to be unworthy of it, for he made two frenzied attempts at +escape. He was a powerful, muscular man, with a lion head, tangled +black locks, and a sweeping beard which covered his broad chest. When +he was tried, there was no finer head in all the crowded court. It's +no new thing to find the best face looking from the dock. But his good +looks could not balance his bad deeds. His advocate did all he knew, +but the cards lay against him, and Duncan Warner was handed over to the +mercy of the big Los Amigos dynamos. + +I was there at the committee meeting when the matter was discussed. +The town council had chosen four experts to look after the +arrangements. Three of them were admirable. There was Joseph +M'Conner, the very man who had designed the dynamos, and there was +Joshua Westmacott, the chairman of the Los Amigos Electrical Supply +Company, Limited. Then there was myself as the chief medical man, and +lastly an old German of the name of Peter Stulpnagel. The Germans were +a strong body at Los Amigos, and they all voted for their man. That +was how he got on the committee. It was said that he had been a +wonderful electrician at home, and he was eternally working with wires +and insulators and Leyden jars; but, as he never seemed to get any +further, or to have any results worth publishing he came at last to be +regarded as a harmless crank, who had made science his hobby. We three +practical men smiled when we heard that he had been elected as our +colleague, and at the meeting we fixed it all up very nicely among +ourselves without much thought of the old fellow who sat with his ears +scooped forward in his hands, for he was a trifle hard of hearing, +taking no more part in the proceedings than the gentlemen of the press +who scribbled their notes on the back benches. + +We did not take long to settle it all. In New York a strength of some +two thousand volts had been used, and death had not been instantaneous. +Evidently their shock had been too weak. Los Amigos should not fall +into that error. The charge should be six times greater, and +therefore, of course, it would be six times more effective. Nothing +could possibly be more logical. The whole concentrated force of the +great dynamos should be employed on Duncan Warner. + +So we three settled it, and had already risen to break up the meeting, +when our silent companion opened his month for the first time. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "you appear to me to show an extraordinary +ignorance upon the subject of electricity. You have not mastered the +first principles of its actions upon a human being." + +The committee was about to break into an angry reply to this brusque +comment, but the chairman of the Electrical Company tapped his forehead +to claim its indulgence for the crankiness of the speaker. + +"Pray tell us, sir," said he, with an ironical smile, "what is there in +our conclusions with which you find fault?" + +"With your assumption that a large dose of electricity will merely +increase the effect of a small dose. Do you not think it possible that +it might have an entirely different result? Do you know anything, by +actual experiment, of the effect of such powerful shocks?" + +"We know it by analogy," said the chairman, pompously. "All drugs +increase their effect when they increase their dose; for example--for +example----" + +"Whisky," said Joseph M'Connor. + +"Quite so. Whisky. You see it there." + +Peter Stulpnagel smiled and shook his head. + +"Your argument is not very good," said he. "When I used to take +whisky, I used to find that one glass would excite me, but that six +would send me to sleep, which is just the opposite. Now, suppose that +electricity were to act in just the opposite way also, what then?" + +We three practical men burst out laughing. We had known that our +colleague was queer, but we never had thought that he would be as queer +as this. + +"What then?" repeated Philip Stulpnagel. + +"We'll take our chances," said the chairman. + +"Pray consider," said Peter, "that workmen who have touched the wires, +and who have received shocks of only a few hundred volts, have died +instantly. The fact is well known. And yet when a much greater force +was used upon a criminal at New York, the man struggled for some little +time. Do you not clearly see that the smaller dose is the more deadly?" + +"I think, gentlemen, that this discussion has been carried on quite +long enough," said the chairman, rising again. "The point, I take it, +has already been decided by the majority of the committee, and Duncan +Warner shall be electrocuted on Tuesday by the full strength of the Los +Amigos dynamos. Is it not so?" + +"I agree," said Joseph M'Connor. + +"I agree," said I. + +"And I protest," said Peter Stulpnagel. + +"Then the motion is carried, and your protest will be duly entered in +the minutes," said the chairman, and so the sitting was dissolved. + +The attendance at the electrocution was a very small one. We four +members of the committee were, of course, present with the executioner, +who was to act under their orders. The others were the United States +Marshal, the governor of the gaol, the chaplain, and three members of +the press. The room was a small brick chamber, forming an outhouse to +the Central Electrical station. It had been used as a laundry, and had +an oven and copper at one side, but no other furniture save a single +chair for the condemned man. A metal plate for his feet was placed in +front of it, to which ran a thick, insulated wire. Above, another wire +depended from the ceiling, which could be connected with a small +metallic rod projecting from a cap which was to be placed upon his +head. When this connection was established Duncan Warner's hour was +come. + +There was a solemn hush as we waited for the coming of the prisoner. +The practical engineers looked a little pale, and fidgeted nervously +with the wires. Even the hardened Marshal was ill at ease, for a mere +hanging was one thing, and this blasting of flesh and blood a very +different one. As to the pressmen, their faces were whiter than the +sheets which lay before them. The only man who appeared to feel none +of the influence of these preparations was the little German crank, who +strolled from one to the other with a smile on his lips and mischief in +his eyes. More than once he even went so far as to burst into a shout +of laughter, until the chaplain sternly rebuked him for his ill-timed +levity. + +"How can you so far forget yourself, Mr. Stulpnagel," said he, "as to +jest in the presence of death?" + +But the German was quite unabashed. + +"If I were in the presence of death I should not jest," said he, "but +since I am not I may do what I choose." + +This flippant reply was about to draw another and a sterner reproof +from the chaplain, when the door was swung open and two warders entered +leading Duncan Warner between them. He glanced round him with a set +face, stepped resolutely forward, and seated himself upon the chair. + +"Touch her off!" said he. + +It was barbarous to keep him in suspense. The chaplain murmured a few +words in his ear, the attendant placed the cap upon his head, and then, +while we all held our breath, the wire and the metal were brought in +contact. + +"Great Scott!" shouted Duncan Warner. + +He had bounded in his chair as the frightful shock crashed through his +system. But he was not dead. On the contrary, his eyes gleamed far +more brightly than they had done before. There was only one change, +but it was a singular one. The black had passed from his hair and +beard as the shadow passes from a landscape. They were both as white +as snow. And yet there was no other sign of decay. His skin was +smooth and plump and lustrous as a child's. + +The Marshal looked at the committee with a reproachful eye. + +"There seems to be some hitch here, gentlemen," said he. + +We three practical men looked at each other. + +Peter Stulpnagel smiled pensively. + +"I think that another one should do it," said I. + +Again the connection was made, and again Duncan Warner sprang in his +chair and shouted, but, indeed, were it not that he still remained in +the chair none of us would have recognised him. His hair and his beard +had shredded off in an instant, and the room looked like a barber's +shop on a Saturday night. There he sat, his eyes still shining, his +skin radiant with the glow of perfect health, but with a scalp as bald +as a Dutch cheese, and a chin without so much as a trace of down. He +began to revolve one of his arms, slowly and doubtfully at first, but +with more confidence as he went on. + +"That jint," said he, "has puzzled half the doctors on the Pacific +Slope. It's as good as new, and as limber as a hickory twig." + +"You are feeling pretty well?" asked the old German. + +"Never better in my life," said Duncan Warner cheerily. + +The situation was a painful one. The Marshal glared at the committee. +Peter Stulpnagel grinned and rubbed his hands. The engineers scratched +their heads. The bald-headed prisoner revolved his arm and looked +pleased. + +"I think that one more shock----" began the chairman. + +"No, sir," said the Marshal "we've had foolery enough for one morning. +We are here for an execution, and a execution we'll have." + +"What do you propose?" + +"There's a hook handy upon the ceiling. Fetch in a rope, and we'll +soon set this matter straight." + +There was another awkward delay while the warders departed for the +cord. Peter Stulpnagel bent over Duncan Warner, and whispered +something in his ear. The desperado started in surprise. + +"You don't say?" he asked. + +The German nodded. + +"What! Noways?" + +Peter shook his head, and the two began to laugh as though they shared +some huge joke between them. + +The rope was brought, and the Marshal himself slipped the noose over +the criminal's neck. Then the two warders, the assistant and he swung +their victim into the air. For half an hour he hung--a dreadful +sight--from the ceiling. Then in solemn silence they lowered him down, +and one of the warders went out to order the shell to be brought round. +But as he touched ground again what was our amazement when Duncan +Warner put his hands up to his neck, loosened the noose, and took a +long, deep breath. + +"Paul Jefferson's sale is goin' well," he remarked, "I could see the +crowd from up yonder," and he nodded at the hook in the ceiling. + +"Up with him again!" shouted the Marshal, "we'll get the life out of +him somehow." + +In an instant the victim was up at the hook once more. + +They kept him there for an hour, but when he came down he was perfectly +garrulous. + +"Old man Plunket goes too much to the Arcady Saloon," said he. "Three +times he's been there in an hour; and him with a family. Old man +Plunket would do well to swear off." + +It was monstrous and incredible, but there it was. There was no +getting round it. The man was there talking when he ought to have been +dead. We all sat staring in amazement, but United States Marshal +Carpenter was not a man to be euchred so easily. He motioned the +others to one side, so that the prisoner was left standing alone. + +"Duncan Warner," said he, slowly, "you are here to play your part, and +I am here to play mine. Your game is to live if you can, and my game +is to carry out the sentence of the law. You've beat us on +electricity. I'll give you one there. And you've beat us on hanging, +for you seem to thrive on it. But it's my turn to beat you now, for my +duty has to be done." + +He pulled a six-shooter from his coat as he spoke, and fired all the +shots through the body of the prisoner. The room was so filled with +smoke that we could see nothing, but when it cleared the prisoner was +still standing there, looking down in disgust at the front of his coat. + +"Coats must be cheap where you come from," said he. "Thirty dollars it +cost me, and look at it now. The six holes in front are bad enough, +but four of the balls have passed out, and a pretty state the back must +be in." + +The Marshal's revolver fell from his hand, and he dropped his arms to +his sides, a beaten man. + +"Maybe some of you gentlemen can tell me what this means," said he, +looking helplessly at the committee. + +Peter Stulpnagel took a step forward. + +"I'll tell you all about it," said he. + +"You seem to be the only person who knows anything." + +"I AM the only person who knows anything. I should have warned these +gentlemen; but, as they would not listen to me, I have allowed them to +learn by experience. What you have done with your electricity is that +you have increased this man's vitality until he can defy death for +centuries." + +"Centuries!" + +"Yes, it will take the wear of hundreds of years to exhaust the +enormous nervous energy with which you have drenched him. Electricity +is life, and you have charged him with it to the utmost. Perhaps in +fifty years you might execute him, but I am not sanguine about it." + +"Great Scott! What shall I do with him?" cried the unhappy Marshal. + +Peter Stulpnagel shrugged his shoulders. + +"It seems to me that it does not much matter what you do with him now," +said he. + +"Maybe we could drain the electricity out of him again. Suppose we +hang him up by the heels?" + +"No, no, it's out of the question." + +"Well, well, he shall do no more mischief in Los Amigos, anyhow," said +the Marshal, with decision. "He shall go into the new gaol. The +prison will wear him out." + +"On the contrary," said Peter Stulpnagel, "I think that it is much more +probable that he will wear out the prison." + +It was rather a fiasco and for years we didn't talk more about it than +we could help, but it's no secret now and I thought you might like to +jot down the facts in your case-book. + + + + +THE DOCTORS OF HOYLAND. + +Dr. James Ripley was always looked upon as an exceedingly lucky dog by +all of the profession who knew him. His father had preceded him in a +practice in the village of Hoyland, in the north of Hampshire, and all +was ready for him on the very first day that the law allowed him to put +his name at the foot of a prescription. In a few years the old +gentleman retired, and settled on the South Coast, leaving his son in +undisputed possession of the whole country side. Save for Dr. Horton, +near Basingstoke, the young surgeon had a clear run of six miles in +every direction, and took his fifteen hundred pounds a year, though, as +is usual in country practices, the stable swallowed up most of what the +consulting-room earned. + +Dr. James Ripley was two-and-thirty years of age, reserved, learned, +unmarried, with set, rather stern features, and a thinning of the dark +hair upon the top of his head, which was worth quite a hundred a year +to him. He was particularly happy in his management of ladies. He had +caught the tone of bland sternness and decisive suavity which dominates +without offending. Ladies, however, were not equally happy in their +management of him. Professionally, he was always at their service. +Socially, he was a drop of quicksilver. In vain the country mammas +spread out their simple lures in front of him. Dances and picnics were +not to his taste, and he preferred during his scanty leisure to shut +himself up in his study, and to bury himself in Virchow's Archives and +the professional journals. + +Study was a passion with him, and he would have none of the rust which +often gathers round a country practitioner. It was his ambition to +keep his knowledge as fresh and bright as at the moment when he had +stepped out of the examination hall. He prided himself on being able +at a moment's notice to rattle off the seven ramifications of some +obscure artery, or to give the exact percentage of any physiological +compound. After a long day's work he would sit up half the night +performing iridectomies and extractions upon the sheep's eyes sent in +by the village butcher, to the horror of his housekeeper, who had to +remove the debris next morning. His love for his work was the one +fanaticism which found a place in his dry, precise nature. + +It was the more to his credit that he should keep up to date in his +knowledge, since he had no competition to force him to exertion. In +the seven years during which he had practised in Hoyland three rivals +had pitted themselves against him, two in the village itself and one in +the neighbouring hamlet of Lower Hoyland. Of these one had sickened +and wasted, being, as it was said, himself the only patient whom he had +treated during his eighteen months of ruralising. A second had bought +a fourth share of a Basingstoke practice, and had departed honourably, +while a third had vanished one September night, leaving a gutted house +and an unpaid drug bill behind him. Since then the district had become +a monopoly, and no one had dared to measure himself against the +established fame of the Hoyland doctor. + +It was, then, with a feeling of some surprise and considerable +curiosity that on driving through Lower Hoyland one morning he +perceived that the new house at the end of the village was occupied, +and that a virgin brass plate glistened upon the swinging gate which +faced the high road. He pulled up his fifty guinea chestnut mare and +took a good look at it. "Verrinder Smith, M. D.," was printed across +it in very neat, small lettering. The last man had had letters half a +foot long, with a lamp like a fire-station. Dr. James Ripley noted the +difference, and deduced from it that the new-comer might possibly prove +a more formidable opponent. He was convinced of it that evening when +he came to consult the current medical directory. By it he learned +that Dr. Verrinder Smith was the holder of superb degrees, that he had +studied with distinction at Edinburgh, Paris, Berlin, and Vienna, and +finally that he had been awarded a gold medal and the Lee Hopkins +scholarship for original research, in recognition of an exhaustive +inquiry into the functions of the anterior spinal nerve roots. Dr. +Ripley passed his fingers through his thin hair in bewilderment as he +read his rival's record. What on earth could so brilliant a man mean +by putting up his plate in a little Hampshire hamlet. + +But Dr. Ripley furnished himself with an explanation to the riddle. No +doubt Dr. Verrinder Smith had simply come down there in order to pursue +some scientific research in peace and quiet. The plate was up as an +address rather than as an invitation to patients. Of course, that must +be the true explanation. In that case the presence of this brilliant +neighbour would be a splendid thing for his own studies. He had often +longed for some kindred mind, some steel on which he might strike his +flint. Chance had brought it to him, and he rejoiced exceedingly. + +And this joy it was which led him to take a step which was quite at +variance with his usual habits. It is the custom for a new-comer among +medical men to call first upon the older, and the etiquette upon the +subject is strict. Dr. Ripley was pedantically exact on such points, +and yet he deliberately drove over next day and called upon Dr. +Verrinder Smith. Such a waiving of ceremony was, he felt, a gracious +act upon his part, and a fit prelude to the intimate relations which he +hoped to establish with his neighbour. + +The house was neat and well appointed, and Dr. Ripley was shown by a +smart maid into a dapper little consulting room. As he passed in he +noticed two or three parasols and a lady's sun bonnet hanging in the +hall. It was a pity that his colleague should be a married man. It +would put them upon a different footing, and interfere with those long +evenings of high scientific talk which he had pictured to himself. On +the other hand, there was much in the consulting room to please him. +Elaborate instruments, seen more often in hospitals than in the houses +of private practitioners, were scattered about. A sphygmograph stood +upon the table and a gasometer-like engine, which was new to Dr. +Ripley, in the corner. A book-case full of ponderous volumes in French +and German, paper-covered for the most part, and varying in tint from +the shell to the yoke of a duck's egg, caught his wandering eyes, and +he was deeply absorbed in their titles when the door opened suddenly +behind him. Turning round, he found himself facing a little woman, +whose plain, palish face was remarkable only for a pair of shrewd, +humorous eyes of a blue which had two shades too much green in it. She +held a pince-nez in her left hand, and the doctor's card in her right. + +"How do you do, Dr. Ripley?" said she. + +"How do you do, madam?" returned the visitor. "Your husband is perhaps +out?" + +"I am not married," said she simply. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon! I meant the doctor--Dr. Verrinder Smith." + +"I am Dr. Verrinder Smith." + +Dr. Ripley was so surprised that he dropped his hat and forgot to pick +it up again. + +"What!" he grasped, "the Lee Hopkins prizeman! You!" + +He had never seen a woman doctor before, and his whole conservative +soul rose up in revolt at the idea. He could not recall any Biblical +injunction that the man should remain ever the doctor and the woman the +nurse, and yet he felt as if a blasphemy had been committed. His face +betrayed his feelings only too clearly. + +"I am sorry to disappoint you," said the lady drily. + +"You certainly have surprised me," he answered, picking up his hat. + +"You are not among our champions, then?" + +"I cannot say that the movement has my approval." + +"And why?" + +"I should much prefer not to discuss it." + +"But I am sure you will answer a lady's question." + +"Ladies are in danger of losing their privileges when they usurp the +place of the other sex. They cannot claim both." + +"Why should a woman not earn her bread by her brains?" + +Dr. Ripley felt irritated by the quiet manner in which the lady +cross-questioned him. + +"I should much prefer not to be led into a discussion, Miss Smith." + +"Dr. Smith," she interrupted. + +"Well, Dr. Smith! But if you insist upon an answer, I must say that I +do not think medicine a suitable profession for women and that I have a +personal objection to masculine ladies." + +It was an exceedingly rude speech, and he was ashamed of it the instant +after he had made it. The lady, however, simply raised her eyebrows +and smiled. + +"It seems to me that you are begging the question," said she. "Of +course, if it makes women masculine that WOULD be a considerable +deterioration." + +It was a neat little counter, and Dr. Ripley, like a pinked fencer, +bowed his acknowledgment. + +"I must go," said he. + +"I am sorry that we cannot come to some more friendly conclusion since +we are to be neighbours," she remarked. + +He bowed again, and took a step towards the door. + +"It was a singular coincidence," she continued, "that at the instant +that you called I was reading your paper on 'Locomotor Ataxia,' in the +Lancet." + +"Indeed," said he drily. + +"I thought it was a very able monograph." + +"You are very good." + +"But the views which you attribute to Professor Pitres, of Bordeaux, +have been repudiated by him." + +"I have his pamphlet of 1890," said Dr. Ripley angrily. + +"Here is his pamphlet of 1891." She picked it from among a litter of +periodicals. "If you have time to glance your eye down this +passage----" + +Dr. Ripley took it from her and shot rapidly through the paragraph +which she indicated. There was no denying that it completely knocked +the bottom out of his own article. He threw it down, and with another +frigid bow he made for the door. As he took the reins from the groom +he glanced round and saw that the lady was standing at her window, and +it seemed to him that she was laughing heartily. + +All day the memory of this interview haunted him. He felt that he had +come very badly out of it. She had showed herself to be his superior +on his own pet subject. She had been courteous while he had been rude, +self-possessed when he had been angry. And then, above all, there was +her presence, her monstrous intrusion to rankle in his mind. A woman +doctor had been an abstract thing before, repugnant but distant. Now +she was there in actual practice, with a brass plate up just like his +own, competing for the same patients. Not that he feared competition, +but he objected to this lowering of his ideal of womanhood. She could +not be more than thirty, and had a bright, mobile face, too. He +thought of her humorous eyes, and of her strong, well-turned chin. It +revolted him the more to recall the details of her education. A man, +of course, could come through such an ordeal with all his purity, but +it was nothing short of shameless in a woman. + +But it was not long before he learned that even her competition was a +thing to be feared. The novelty of her presence had brought a few +curious invalids into her consulting rooms, and, once there, they had +been so impressed by the firmness of her manner and by the singular, +new-fashioned instruments with which she tapped, and peered, and +sounded, that it formed the core of their conversation for weeks +afterwards. And soon there were tangible proofs of her powers upon the +country side. Farmer Eyton, whose callous ulcer had been quietly +spreading over his shin for years back under a gentle regime of zinc +ointment, was painted round with blistering fluid, and found, after +three blasphemous nights, that his sore was stimulated into healing. +Mrs. Crowder, who had always regarded the birthmark upon her second +daughter Eliza as a sign of the indignation of the Creator at a third +helping of raspberry tart which she had partaken of during a critical +period, learned that, with the help of two galvanic needles, the +mischief was not irreparable. In a month Dr. Verrinder Smith was +known, and in two she was famous. + +Occasionally, Dr. Ripley met her as he drove upon his rounds. She had +started a high dogcart, taking the reins herself, with a little tiger +behind. When they met he invariably raised his hat with punctilious +politeness, but the grim severity of his face showed how formal was the +courtesy. In fact, his dislike was rapidly deepening into absolute +detestation. "The unsexed woman," was the description of her which he +permitted himself to give to those of his patients who still remained +staunch. But, indeed, they were a rapidly-decreasing body, and every +day his pride was galled by the news of some fresh defection. The lady +had somehow impressed the country folk with almost superstitious belief +in her power, and from far and near they flocked to her consulting room. + +But what galled him most of all was, when she did something which he +had pronounced to be impracticable. For all his knowledge he lacked +nerve as an operator, and usually sent his worst cases up to London. +The lady, however, had no weakness of the sort, and took everything +that came in her way. It was agony to him to hear that she was about +to straighten little Alec Turner's club foot, and right at the fringe +of the rumour came a note from his mother, the rector's wife, asking +him if he would be so good as to act as chloroformist. It would be +inhumanity to refuse, as there was no other who could take the place, +but it was gall and wormwood to his sensitive nature. Yet, in spite of +his vexation, he could not but admire the dexterity with which the +thing was done. She handled the little wax-like foot so gently, and +held the tiny tenotomy knife as an artist holds his pencil. One +straight insertion, one snick of a tendon, and it was all over without +a stain upon the white towel which lay beneath. He had never seen +anything more masterly, and he had the honesty to say so, though her +skill increased his dislike of her. The operation spread her fame +still further at his expense, and self-preservation was added to his +other grounds for detesting her. And this very detestation it was +which brought matters to a curious climax. + +One winter's night, just as he was rising from his lonely dinner, a +groom came riding down from Squire Faircastle's, the richest man in the +district, to say that his daughter had scalded her hand, and that +medical help was needed on the instant. The coachman had ridden for +the lady doctor, for it mattered nothing to the Squire who came as long +as it were speedily. Dr. Ripley rushed from his surgery with the +determination that she should not effect an entrance into this +stronghold of his if hard driving on his part could prevent it. He did +not even wait to light his lamps, but sprang into his gig and flew off +as fast as hoof could rattle. He lived rather nearer to the Squire's +than she did, and was convinced that he could get there well before her. + +And so he would but for that whimsical element of chance, which will +for ever muddle up the affairs of this world and dumbfound the +prophets. Whether it came from the want of his lights, or from his +mind being full of the thoughts of his rival, he allowed too little by +half a foot in taking the sharp turn upon the Basingstoke road. The +empty trap and the frightened horse clattered away into the darkness, +while the Squire's groom crawled out of the ditch into which he had +been shot. He struck a match, looked down at his groaning companion, +and then, after the fashion of rough, strong men when they see what +they have not seen before, he was very sick. + +The doctor raised himself a little on his elbow in the glint of the +match. He caught a glimpse of something white and sharp bristling +through his trouser leg half way down the shin. + +"Compound!" he groaned. "A three months' job," and fainted. + +When he came to himself the groom was gone, for he had scudded off to +the Squire's house for help, but a small page was holding a gig-lamp in +front of his injured leg, and a woman, with an open case of polished +instruments gleaming in the yellow light, was deftly slitting up his +trouser with a crooked pair of scissors. + +"It's all right, doctor," said she soothingly. "I am so sorry about +it. You can have Dr. Horton to-morrow, but I am sure you will allow me +to help you to-night. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you by +the roadside." + +"The groom has gone for help," groaned the sufferer. + +"When it comes we can move you into the gig. A little more light, +John! So! Ah, dear, dear, we shall have laceration unless we reduce +this before we move you. Allow me to give you a whiff of chloroform, +and I have no doubt that I can secure it sufficiently to----" + +Dr. Ripley never heard the end of that sentence. He tried to raise a +hand and to murmur something in protest, but a sweet smell was in his +nostrils, and a sense of rich peace and lethargy stole over his jangled +nerves. Down he sank, through clear, cool water, ever down and down +into the green shadows beneath, gently, without effort, while the +pleasant chiming of a great belfry rose and fell in his ears. Then he +rose again, up and up, and ever up, with a terrible tightness about his +temples, until at last he shot out of those green shadows and was in +the light once more. Two bright, shining, golden spots gleamed before +his dazed eyes. He blinked and blinked before he could give a name to +them. They were only the two brass balls at the end posts of his bed, +and he was lying in his own little room, with a head like a cannon +ball, and a leg like an iron bar. Turning his eyes, he saw the calm +face of Dr. Verrinder Smith looking down at him. + +"Ah, at last!" said she. "I kept you under all the way home, for I +knew how painful the jolting would be. It is in good position now with +a strong side splint. I have ordered a morphia draught for you. Shall +I tell your groom to ride for Dr. Horton in the morning?" + +"I should prefer that you should continue the case," said Dr. Ripley +feebly, and then, with a half hysterical laugh,--"You have all the rest +of the parish as patients, you know, so you may as well make the thing +complete by having me also." + +It was not a very gracious speech, but it was a look of pity and not of +anger which shone in her eyes as she turned away from his bedside. + +Dr. Ripley had a brother, William, who was assistant surgeon at a +London hospital, and who was down in Hampshire within a few hours of +his hearing of the accident. He raised his brows when he heard the +details. + +"What! You are pestered with one of those!" he cried. + +"I don't know what I should have done without her." + +"I've no doubt she's an excellent nurse." + +"She knows her work as well as you or I." + +"Speak for yourself, James," said the London man with a sniff. "But +apart from that, you know that the principle of the thing is all wrong." + +"You think there is nothing to be said on the other side?" + +"Good heavens! do you?" + +"Well, I don't know. It struck me during the night that we may have +been a little narrow in our views." + +"Nonsense, James. It's all very fine for women to win prizes in the +lecture room, but you know as well as I do that they are no use in an +emergency. Now I warrant that this woman was all nerves when she was +setting your leg. That reminds me that I had better just take a look +at it and see that it is all right." + +"I would rather that you did not undo it," said the patient. "I have +her assurance that it is all right." + +Brother William was deeply shocked. + +"Of course, if a woman's assurance is of more value than the opinion of +the assistant surgeon of a London hospital, there is nothing more to be +said," he remarked. + +"I should prefer that you did not touch it," said the patient firmly, +and Dr. William went back to London that evening in a huff. + +The lady, who had heard of his coming, was much surprised on learning +his departure. + +"We had a difference upon a point of professional etiquette," said Dr. +James, and it was all the explanation he would vouchsafe. + +For two long months Dr. Ripley was brought in contact with his rival +every day, and he learned many things which he had not known before. +She was a charming companion, as well as a most assiduous doctor. Her +short presence during the long, weary day was like a flower in a sand +waste. What interested him was precisely what interested her, and she +could meet him at every point upon equal terms. And yet under all her +learning and her firmness ran a sweet, womanly nature, peeping out in +her talk, shining in her greenish eyes, showing itself in a thousand +subtle ways which the dullest of men could read. And he, though a bit +of a prig and a pedant, was by no means dull, and had honesty enough to +confess when he was in the wrong. + +"I don't know how to apologise to you," he said in his shame-faced +fashion one day, when he had progressed so far as to be able to sit in +an arm-chair with his leg upon another one; "I feel that I have been +quite in the wrong." + +"Why, then?" + +"Over this woman question. I used to think that a woman must +inevitably lose something of her charm if she took up such studies." + +"Oh, you don't think they are necessarily unsexed, then?" she cried, +with a mischievous smile. + +"Please don't recall my idiotic expression." + +"I feel so pleased that I should have helped in changing your views. I +think that it is the most sincere compliment that I have ever had paid +me." + +"At any rate, it is the truth," said he, and was happy all night at the +remembrance of the flush of pleasure which made her pale face look +quite comely for the instant. + +For, indeed, he was already far past the stage when he would +acknowledge her as the equal of any other woman. Already he could not +disguise from himself that she had become the one woman. Her dainty +skill, her gentle touch, her sweet presence, the community of their +tastes, had all united to hopelessly upset his previous opinions. It +was a dark day for him now when his convalescence allowed her to miss a +visit, and darker still that other one which he saw approaching when +all occasion for her visits would be at an end. It came round at last, +however, and he felt that his whole life's fortune would hang upon the +issue of that final interview. He was a direct man by nature, so he +laid his hand upon hers as it felt for his pulse, and he asked her if +she would be his wife. + +"What, and unite the practices?" said she. + +He started in pain and anger. + +"Surely you do not attribute any such base motive to me!" he cried. "I +love you as unselfishly as ever a woman was loved." + +"No, I was wrong. It was a foolish speech," said she, moving her chair +a little back, and tapping her stethoscope upon her knee. "Forget that +I ever said it. I am so sorry to cause you any disappointment, and I +appreciate most highly the honour which you do me, but what you ask is +quite impossible." + +With another woman he might have urged the point, but his instincts +told him that it was quite useless with this one. Her tone of voice +was conclusive. He said nothing, but leaned back in his chair a +stricken man. + +"I am so sorry," she said again. "If I had known what was passing in +your mind I should have told you earlier that I intended to devote my +life entirely to science. There are many women with a capacity for +marriage, but few with a taste for biology. I will remain true to my +own line, then. I came down here while waiting for an opening in the +Paris Physiological Laboratory. I have just heard that there is a +vacancy for me there, and so you will be troubled no more by my +intrusion upon your practice. I have done you an injustice just as you +did me one. I thought you narrow and pedantic, with no good quality. +I have learned during your illness to appreciate you better, and the +recollection of our friendship will always be a very pleasant one to +me." + +And so it came about that in a very few weeks there was only one doctor +in Hoyland. But folks noticed that the one had aged many years in a +few months, that a weary sadness lurked always in the depths of his +blue eyes, and that he was less concerned than ever with the eligible +young ladies whom chance, or their careful country mammas, placed in +his way. + + + + +THE SURGEON TALKS. + +"Men die of the diseases which they have studied most," remarked the +surgeon, snipping off the end of a cigar with all his professional +neatness and finish. "It's as if the morbid condition was an evil +creature which, when it found itself closely hunted, flew at the throat +of its pursuer. If you worry the microbes too much they may worry you. +I've seen cases of it, and not necessarily in microbic diseases either. +There was, of course, the well-known instance of Liston and the +aneurism; and a dozen others that I could mention. You couldn't have a +clearer case than that of poor old Walker of St. Christopher's. Not +heard of it? Well, of course, it was a little before your time, but I +wonder that it should have been forgotten. You youngsters are so busy +in keeping up to the day that you lose a good deal that is interesting +of yesterday. + +"Walker was one of the best men in Europe on nervous disease. You must +have read his little book on sclerosis of the posterior columns. It's +as interesting as a novel, and epoch-making in its way. He worked like +a horse, did Walker--huge consulting practice--hours a day in the +clinical wards--constant original investigations. And then he enjoyed +himself also. 'De mortuis,' of course, but still it's an open secret +among all who knew him. If he died at forty-five, he crammed eighty +years into it. The marvel was that he could have held on so long at +the pace at which he was going. But he took it beautifully when it +came. + +"I was his clinical assistant at the time. Walker was lecturing on +locomotor ataxia to a wardful of youngsters. He was explaining that +one of the early signs of the complaint was that the patient could not +put his heels together with his eyes shut without staggering. As he +spoke, he suited the action to the word. I don't suppose the boys +noticed anything. I did, and so did he, though he finished his lecture +without a sign. + +"When it was over he came into my room and lit a cigarette. + +"'Just run over my reflexes, Smith,' said he. + +"There was hardly a trace of them left. I tapped away at his +knee-tendon and might as well have tried to get a jerk out of that +sofa-cushion. He stood with his eyes shut again, and he swayed like a +bush in the wind. + +"'So,' said he, 'it was not intercostal neuralgia after all.' + +"Then I knew that he had had the lightning pains, and that the case was +complete. There was nothing to say, so I sat looking at him while he +puffed and puffed at his cigarette. Here he was, a man in the prime of +life, one of the handsomest men in London, with money, fame, social +success, everything at his feet, and now, without a moment's warning, +he was told that inevitable death lay before him, a death accompanied +by more refined and lingering tortures than if he were bound upon a Red +Indian stake. He sat in the middle of the blue cigarette cloud with +his eyes cast down, and the slightest little tightening of his lips. +Then he rose with a motion of his arms, as one who throws off old +thoughts and enters upon a new course. + +"'Better put this thing straight at once,' said he. 'I must make some +fresh arrangements. May I use your paper and envelopes?' + +"He settled himself at my desk and he wrote half a dozen letters. It +is not a breach of confidence to say that they were not addressed to +his professional brothers. Walker was a single man, which means that +he was not restricted to a single woman. When he had finished, he +walked out of that little room of mine, leaving every hope and ambition +of his life behind him. And he might have had another year of +ignorance and peace if it had not been for the chance illustration in +his lecture. + +"It took five years to kill him, and he stood it well. If he had ever +been a little irregular he atoned for it in that long martyrdom. He +kept an admirable record of his own symptoms, and worked out the eye +changes more fully than has ever been done. When the ptosis got very +bad he would hold his eyelid up with one hand while he wrote. Then, +when he could not co-ordinate his muscles to write, he dictated to his +nurse. So died, in the odour of science, James Walker, aet. 45. + +"Poor old Walker was very fond of experimental surgery, and he broke +ground in several directions. Between ourselves, there may have been +some more ground-breaking afterwards, but he did his best for his +cases. You know M'Namara, don't you? He always wears his hair long. +He lets it be understood that it comes from his artistic strain, but it +is really to conceal the loss of one of his ears. Walker cut the other +one off, but you must not tell Mac I said so. + +"It was like this. Walker had a fad about the portio dura--the motor +to the face, you know--and he thought paralysis of it came from a +disturbance of the blood supply. Something else which counterbalanced +that disturbance might, he thought, set it right again. We had a very +obstinate case of Bell's paralysis in the wards, and had tried it with +every conceivable thing, blistering, tonics, nerve-stretching, +galvanism, needles, but all without result. Walker got it into his +head that removal of the ear would increase the blood supply to the +part, and he very soon gained the consent of the patient to the +operation. + +"Well, we did it at night. Walker, of course, felt that it was +something of an experiment, and did not wish too much talk about it +unless it proved successful. There were half-a-dozen of us there, +M'Namara and I among the rest. The room was a small one, and in the +centre was in the narrow table, with a macintosh over the pillow, and a +blanket which extended almost to the floor on either side. Two +candles, on a side-table near the pillow, supplied all the light. In +came the patient, with one side of his face as smooth as a baby's, and +the other all in a quiver with fright. He lay down, and the chloroform +towel was placed over his face, while Walker threaded his needles in +the candle light. The chloroformist stood at the head of the table, +and M'Namara was stationed at the side to control the patient. The +rest of us stood by to assist. + +"Well, the man was about half over when he fell into one of those +convulsive flurries which come with the semi-unconscious stage. He +kicked and plunged and struck out with both hands. Over with a crash +went the little table which held the candles, and in an instant we were +left in total darkness. You can think what a rush and a scurry there +was, one to pick up the table, one to find the matches, and some to +restrain the patient who was still dashing himself about. He was held +down by two dressers, the chloroform was pushed, and by the time the +candles were relit, his incoherent, half-smothered shoutings had +changed to a stertorous snore. His head was turned on the pillow and +the towel was still kept over his face while the operation was carried +through. Then the towel was withdrawn, and you can conceive our +amazement when we looked upon the face of M'Namara. + +"How did it happen? Why, simply enough. As the candles went over, the +chloroformist had stopped for an instant and had tried to catch them. +The patient, just as the light went out, had rolled off and under the +table. Poor M'Namara, clinging frantically to him, had been dragged +across it, and the chloroformist, feeling him there, had naturally +claped the towel across his mouth and nose. The others had secured +him, and the more he roared and kicked the more they drenched him with +chloroform. Walker was very nice about it, and made the most handsome +apologies. He offered to do a plastic on the spot, and make as good an +ear as he could, but M'Namara had had enough of it. As to the patient, +we found him sleeping placidly under the table, with the ends of the +blanket screening him on both sides. Walker sent M'Namara round his +ear next day in a jar of methylated spirit, but Mac's wife was very +angry about it, and it led to a good deal of ill-feeling. + +"Some people say that the more one has to do with human nature, and the +closer one is brought in contact with it, the less one thinks of it. I +don't believe that those who know most would uphold that view. My own +experience is dead against it. I was brought up in the +miserable-mortal-clay school of theology, and yet here I am, after +thirty years of intimate acquaintance with humanity, filled with +respect for it. The evil lies commonly upon the surface. The deeper +strata are good. A hundred times I have seen folk condemned to death +as suddenly as poor Walker was. Sometimes it was to blindness or to +mutilations which are worse than death. Men and women, they almost all +took it beautifully, and some with such lovely unselfishness, and with +such complete absorption in the thought of how their fate would affect +others, that the man about town, or the frivolously-dressed woman has +seemed to change into an angel before my eyes. I have seen death-beds, +too, of all ages and of all creeds and want of creeds. I never saw any +of them shrink, save only one poor, imaginative young fellow, who had +spent his blameless life in the strictest of sects. Of course, an +exhausted frame is incapable of fear, as anyone can vouch who is told, +in the midst of his sea-sickness, that the ship is going to the bottom. +That is why I rate courage in the face of mutilation to be higher than +courage when a wasting illness is fining away into death. + +"Now, I'll take a case which I had in my own practice last Wednesday. +A lady came in to consult me--the wife of a well-known sporting +baronet. The husband had come with her, but remained, at her request, +in the waiting-room. I need not go into details, but it proved to be a +peculiarly malignant case of cancer. 'I knew it,' said she. 'How long +have I to live?' 'I fear that it may exhaust your strength in a few +months,' I answered. 'Poor old Jack!' said she. 'I'll tell him that +it is not dangerous.' 'Why should you deceive him?' I asked. 'Well, +he's very uneasy about it, and he is quaking now in the waiting-room. +He has two old friends to dinner to-night, and I haven't the heart to +spoil his evening. To-morrow will be time enough for him to learn the +truth.' Out she walked, the brave little woman, and a moment later her +husband, with his big, red face shining with joy came plunging into my +room to shake me by the hand. No, I respected her wish and I did not +undeceive him. I dare bet that evening was one of the brightest, and +the next morning the darkest, of his life. + +"It's wonderful how bravely and cheerily a woman can face a crushing +blow. It is different with men. A man can stand it without +complaining, but it knocks him dazed and silly all the same. But the +woman does not lose her wits any more than she does her courage. Now, +I had a case only a few weeks ago which would show you what I mean. A +gentleman consulted me about his wife, a very beautiful woman. She had +a small tubercular nodule upon her upper arm, according to him. He was +sure that it was of no importance, but he wanted to know whether +Devonshire or the Riviera would be the better for her. I examined her +and found a frightful sarcoma of the bone, hardly showing upon the +surface, but involving the shoulder-blade and clavicle as well as the +humerus. A more malignant case I have never seen. I sent her out of +the room and I told him the truth. What did he do? Why, he walked +slowly round that room with his hands behind his back, looking with the +greatest interest at the pictures. I can see him now, putting up his +gold pince-nez and staring at them with perfectly vacant eyes, which +told me that he saw neither them nor the wall behind them. 'Amputation +of the arm?' he asked at last. 'And of the collar-bone and +shoulder-blade,' said I. 'Quite so. The collar-bone and +shoulder-blade,' he repeated, still staring about him with those +lifeless eyes. It settled him. I don't believe he'll ever be the same +man again. But the woman took it as bravely and brightly as could be, +and she has done very well since. The mischief was so great that the +arm snapped as we drew it from the night-dress. No, I don't think that +there will be any return, and I have every hope of her recovery. + +"The first patient is a thing which one remembers all one's life. Mine +was commonplace, and the details are of no interest. I had a curious +visitor, however, during the first few months after my plate went up. +It was an elderly woman, richly dressed, with a wickerwork picnic +basket in her hand. This she opened with the tears streaming down her +face, and out there waddled the fattest, ugliest, and mangiest little +pug dog that I have ever seen. 'I wish you to put him painlessly out +of the world, doctor,' she cried. 'Quick, quick, or my resolution may +give way.' She flung herself down, with hysterical sobs, upon the +sofa. The less experienced a doctor is, the higher are his notions of +professional dignity, as I need not remind you, my young friend, so I +was about to refuse the commission with indignation, when I bethought +me that, quite apart from medicine, we were gentleman and lady, and +that she had asked me to do something for her which was evidently of +the greatest possible importance in her eyes. I led off the poor +little doggie, therefore, and with the help of a saucerful of milk and +a few drops of prussic acid his exit was as speedy and painless as +could be desired. 'Is it over?' she cried as I entered. It was really +tragic to see how all the love which should have gone to husband and +children had, in default of them, been centred upon this uncouth little +animal. She left, quite broken down, in her carriage, and it was only +after her departure that I saw an envelope sealed with a large red +seal, and lying upon the blotting pad of my desk. Outside, in pencil, +was written: 'I have no doubt that you would willingly have done this +without a fee, but I insist upon your acceptance of the enclosed.' I +opened it with some vague notions of an eccentric millionaire and a +fifty-pound note, but all I found was a postal order for four and +sixpence. The whole incident struck me as so whimsical that I laughed +until I was tired. You'll find there's so much tragedy in a doctor's +life, my boy, that he would not be able to stand it if it were not for +the strain of comedy which comes every now and then to leaven it. + +"And a doctor has very much to be thankful for also. Don't you ever +forget it. It is such a pleasure to do a little good that a man should +pay for the privilege instead of being paid for it. Still, of course, +he has his home to keep up and his wife and children to support. But +his patients are his friends--or they should be so. He goes from house +to house, and his step and his voice are loved and welcomed in each. +What could a man ask for more than that? And besides, he is forced to +be a good man. It is impossible for him to be anything else. How can +a man spend his whole life in seeing suffering bravely borne and yet +remain a hard or a vicious man? It is a noble, generous, kindly +profession, and you youngsters have got to see that it remains so." + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Round the Red Lamp, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROUND THE RED LAMP *** + +***** This file should be named 423.txt or 423.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/423/ + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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