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CONAN DOYLE. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man from Archangel, by A. 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: The Man from Archangel + and Other Tales of Adventure + +Author: A. Conan Doyle + +Release Date: December 31, 2010 [EBook #34797] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1>THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL</h1> + +<h2><i>and Other Tales of Adventure</i></h2> + +<h2>A. CONAN DOYLE</h2> + + +<h3>NEW YORK<br /> +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1905, 1908, 1909, 1910, 1911, 1913,<br /> +1914, 1918, 1919,<br /> +By A. Conan Doyle</span><br /></h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1910,<br /> +By Charles Scribner's Sons</span></h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1911,<br /> +By Associated Sunday Magazines, Inc.</span></h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1908,<br /> +By The McClure Company</span></h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1900, 1902,<br /> +By The S. S. McClure Company</span></h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1894,<br /> +D. Appleton & Company</span></h3> + +<h3>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#TALES_OF_ADVENTURE">TALES OF ADVENTURE</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#I">I. <span class="smcap">Début of Bimbashi Joyce</span></a><br /> +<a href="#II">II. <span class="smcap">The Surgeon of Gaster Fell</span></a><br /> +<a href="#III">III. <span class="smcap">Borrowed Scenes</span></a><br /> +<a href="#IV">IV. <span class="smcap">The Man from Archangel</span></a><br /> +<a href="#V">V. <span class="smcap">The Great Brown-Pericord Motor</span></a><br /> +<a href="#VI">VI. <span class="smcap">The Sealed Room</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#TALES_OF_MEDICAL_LIFE">TALES OF MEDICAL LIFE</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#VII">VII. <span class="smcap">A Physiologist's Wife</span></a><br /> +<a href="#VIII">VIII. <span class="smcap">Behind the Times</span></a><br /> +<a href="#IX">IX. <span class="smcap">His First Operation</span></a><br /> +<a href="#X">X. <span class="smcap">The Third Generation</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XI">XI. <span class="smcap">The Curse of Eve</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XII">XII. <span class="smcap">A Medical Document</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XIII">XIII. <span class="smcap">The Surgeon Talks</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XIV">XIV. <span class="smcap">The Doctors of Hoyland</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XV">XV. <span class="smcap">Crabbe's Practice</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#By_SIR_ARTHUR_CONAN_DOYLE">By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TALES_OF_ADVENTURE" id="TALES_OF_ADVENTURE"></a>TALES OF ADVENTURE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<h3>THE DÉBUT OF BIMBASHI JOYCE</h3> + + +<p>It was in the days when the tide of Mahdism, which had swept in such a +flood from the great Lakes and Darfur to the confines of Egypt, had at +last come to its full, and even begun, as some hoped, to show signs of a +turn. At its outset it had been terrible. It had engulfed Hicks's army, +swept over Gordon and Khartoum, rolled behind the British forces as they +retired down the river, and finally cast up a spray of raiding parties +as far north as Assouan. Then it found other channels to east and to +west, to Central Africa and to Abyssinia, and retired a little on the +side of Egypt. For ten years there ensued a lull, during which the +frontier garrisons looked out upon those distant blue hills of Dongola. +Behind the violet mists which draped them, lay a land of blood and +horror. From time to time some adventurer went south towards those +haze-girt mountains, tempted by stories of gum and ivory, but none ever +returned. Once a mutilated Egyptian and once a Greek woman, mad with +thirst and fear, made their way to the lines. They were the only exports +of that country of darkness. Sometimes the sunset would turn those +distant mists into a bank of crimson, and the dark mountains would rise +from that sinister reek like islands in a sea of blood. It seemed a grim +symbol in the southern heaven when seen from the fort-capped hills by +Wady Halfa.</p> + +<p>Ten years of lust in Khartoum, ten years of silent work in Cairo, and +then all was ready, and it was time for civilisation to take a trip +south once more, travelling, as her wont is, in an armoured train. +Everything was ready, down to the last pack-saddle of the last camel, +and yet no one suspected it, for an unconstitutional Government has its +advantages. A great administrator had argued, and managed, and cajoled; +a great soldier had organised and planned, and made piastres do the work +of pounds. And then one night these two master spirits met and clasped +hands, and the soldier vanished away upon some business of his own. And +just at that very time Bimbashi Hilary Joyce, seconded from the Royal +Mallow Fusiliers, and temporarily attached to the Ninth Soudanese, made +his first appearance in Cairo.</p> + +<p>Napoleon had said, and Hilary Joyce had noted, that great reputations +are only to be made in the East. Here he was in the East with four tin +cases of baggage, a Wilkinson sword, a Bond's slug-throwing pistol, and +a copy of <i>Green's Introduction to the Study of Arabic</i>. With such a +start, and the blood of youth running hot in his veins, everything +seemed easy. He was a little frightened of the General, he had heard +stories of his sternness to young officers, but with tact and suavity he +hoped for the best. So, leaving his effects at Shepheard's Hotel, he +reported himself at headquarters.</p> + +<p>It was not the General, but the head of the Intelligence Department who +received him, the Chief being still absent upon that business which had +called him. Hilary Joyce found himself in the presence of a short, +thick-set officer, with a gentle voice and a placid expression which +covered a remarkably acute and energetic spirit. With that quiet smile +and guileless manner he had undercut and outwitted the most cunning of +Orientals. He stood, a cigarette between his fingers, looking at the +new-comer.</p> + +<p>"I heard that you had come. Sorry the Chief isn't here to see you. Gone +up to the frontier, you know."</p> + +<p>"My regiment is at Wady Halfa. I suppose, sir, that I should report +myself there at once?"</p> + +<p>"No; I was to give you your orders." He led the way to a map upon the +wall, and pointed with the end of his cigarette. "You see this place. +It's the Oasis of Kurkur—a little quiet, I am afraid, but excellent +air. You are to get out there as quick as possible. You'll find a +company of the Ninth, and half a squadron of cavalry. You will be in +command."</p> + +<p>Hilary Joyce looked at the name, printed at the intersection of two +black lines, without another dot upon the map for several inches round +it.</p> + +<p>"A village, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No, a well. Not very good water, I'm afraid, but you soon get +accustomed to natron. It's an important post, as being at the junction +of two caravan routes. All routes are closed now, of course, but still +you never know who <i>might</i> come along them."</p> + +<p>"We are there, I presume, to prevent raiding?"</p> + +<p>"Well, between you and me, there's really nothing to raid. You are there +to intercept messengers. They must call at the wells. Of course you have +only just come out, but you probably understand already enough about the +conditions of this country to know that there is a great deal of +disaffection about, and that the Khalifa is likely to try and keep in +touch with his adherents. Then, again, Senoussi lives up that way"—he +waved his cigarette to the westward—"the Khalifa might send a message +to him along that route. Anyhow, your duty is to arrest every one coming +along, and get some account of him before you let him go. You don't talk +Arabic, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I am learning, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, you'll have time enough for study there. And you'll have a +native officer, Ali something or other, who speaks English, and can +interpret for you. Well, good-bye—I'll tell the Chief that you reported +yourself. Get on to your post now as quickly as you can."</p> + +<p>Railway to Baliani, the post-boat to Assouan, and then two days on a +camel in the Libyan Desert, with an Ababdeh guide, and three +baggage-camels to tie one down to their own exasperating pace. However, +even two and a half miles an hour mount up in time, and at last, on the +third evening, from the blackened slag-heap of a hill which is called +the Jebel Kurkur, Hilary Joyce looked down upon a distant clump of +palms, and thought that this cool patch of green in the midst of the +merciless blacks and yellows was the fairest colour effect that he had +ever seen. An hour later he had ridden into the little camp, the guard +had turned out to salute him, his native subordinate had greeted him in +excellent English, and he had fairly entered into his own.</p> + +<p>It was not an exhilarating place for a lengthy residence. There was one +large bowl-shaped, grassy depression sloping down to the three pits of +brown and brackish water. There was the grove of palm trees also, +beautiful to look upon, but exasperating in view of the fact that Nature +has provided her least shady trees on the very spot where shade is +needed most. A single widespread acacia did something to restore the +balance. Here Hilary Joyce slumbered in the heat, and in the cool he +inspected his square-shouldered, spindle-shanked Soudanese, with their +cheery black faces and their funny little pork-pie forage caps. Joyce +was a martinet at drill, and the blacks loved being drilled, so the +Bimbashi was soon popular among them. But one day was exactly like +another. The weather, the view, the employment, the food—everything was +the same. At the end of three weeks he felt that he had been there for +interminable years. And then at last there came something to break the +monotony.</p> + +<p>One evening, as the sun was sinking, Hilary Joyce rode slowly down the +old caravan road. It had a fascination for him, this narrow track, +winding among the boulders and curving up the nullahs, for he remembered +how in the map it had gone on and on, stretching away into the unknown +heart of Africa. The countless pads of innumerable camels through many +centuries had beaten it smooth, so that now, unused and deserted, it +still wound away, the strangest of roads, a foot broad, and perhaps two +thousand miles in length. Joyce wondered as he rode how long it was +since any traveller had journeyed up it from the south, and then he +raised his eyes, and there was a man coming along the path.</p> + +<p>For an instant Joyce thought that it might be one of his own men, but a +second glance assured him that this could not be so. The stranger was +dressed in the flowing robes of an Arab, and not in the close-fitting +khaki of a soldier. He was very tall, and a high turban made him seem +gigantic. He strode swiftly along, with head erect, and the bearing of a +man who knows no fear.</p> + +<p>Who could he be, this formidable giant coming out of the unknown? The +percursor possibly of a horde of savage spearmen. And where could he +have walked from? The nearest well was a long hundred miles down the +track. At any rate the frontier post of Kurkur could not afford to +receive casual visitors. Hilary Joyce whisked round his horse, galloped +into camp, and gave the alarm. Then, with twenty horsemen at his back, +he rode out again to reconnoitre.</p> + +<p>The man was still coming on in spite of these hostile preparations. For +an instant he had hesitated when first he saw the cavalry, but escape +was out of the question, and he advanced with the air of one who makes +the best of a bad job. He made no resistance, and said nothing when the +hands of two troopers clutched at his shoulders, but walked quietly +between their horses into camp. Shortly afterwards the patrols came in +again. There were no signs of any Dervishes. The man was alone. A +splendid trotting camel had been found lying dead a little way down the +track. The mystery of the stranger's arrival was explained. But why, and +whence, and whither?—these were questions for which a zealous officer +must find an answer.</p> + +<p>Hilary Joyce was disappointed that there were no Dervishes. It would +have been a great start for him in the Egyptian army had he fought a +little action on his own account. But even as it was, he had a rare +chance of impressing the authorities. He would love to show his capacity +to the head of the Intelligence, and even more to that grim Chief who +never forgot what was smart, or forgave what was slack. The prisoner's +dress and bearing showed that he was of importance. Mean men do not ride +pure-bred trotting camels. Joyce sponged his head with cold water, drank +a cup of strong coffee, put on an imposing official tarboosh instead of +his sun-helmet, and formed himself into a court of inquiry and judgment +under the acacia tree.</p> + +<p>He would have liked his people to have seen him now, with his two black +orderlies in waiting, and his Egyptian native officer at his side. He +sat behind a camp-table, and the prisoner, strongly guarded, was led up +to him. The man was a handsome fellow, with bold grey eyes and a long +black beard.</p> + +<p>"Why!" cried Joyce, "the rascal is making faces at me."</p> + +<p>A curious contraction had passed over the man's features, but so swiftly +that it might have been a nervous twitch. He was now a model of Oriental +gravity.</p> + +<p>"Ask him who he is, and what he wants?"</p> + +<p>The native officer did so, but the stranger made no reply, save that the +same sharp spasm passed once more over his face.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm blessed!" cried Hilary Joyce. "Of all the impudent +scoundrels! He keeps on winking at me. Who are you, you rascal? Give an +account of yourself! D'ye hear?"</p> + +<p>But the tall Arab was as impervious to English as to Arabic. The +Egyptian tried again and again. The prisoner looked at Joyce with his +inscrutable eyes, and occasionally twitched his face at him, but never +opened his mouth. The Bimbashi scratched his head in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mahomet Ali, we've got to get some sense out of this fellow. +You say there are no papers on him?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; we found no papers."</p> + +<p>"No clue of any kind?"</p> + +<p>"He has come far, sir. A trotting camel does not die easily. He has come +from Dongola, at least."</p> + +<p>"Well, we must get him to talk."</p> + +<p>"It is possible that he is deaf and dumb."</p> + +<p>"Not he. I never saw a man look more all there in my life."</p> + +<p>"You might send him across to Assouan."</p> + +<p>"And give some one else the credit! No, thank you. This is my bird. But +how are we going to get him to find his tongue?"</p> + +<p>The Egyptian's dark eyes skirted the encampment and rested on the cook's +fire.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said he, "if the Bimbashi thought fit——" He looked at the +prisoner and then at the burning wood.</p> + +<p>"No, no, it wouldn't do. No, by Jove, that's going too far."</p> + +<p>"A very little might do it."</p> + +<p>"No, no. It's all very well here, but it would sound just awful if ever +it got as far as Fleet Street. But, I say," he whispered, "we might +frighten him a bit. There's no harm in that."</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Tell them to undo the man's galabeeah. Order them to put a horseshoe in +the fire and make it red-hot."</p> + +<p>The prisoner watched the proceedings with an air which had more of +amusement than of uneasiness. He never winced as the black sergeant +approached with the glowing shoe held upon two bayonets.</p> + +<p>"Will you speak now?" asked the Bimbashi savagely.</p> + +<p>The prisoner smiled gently and stroked his beard.</p> + +<p>"Oh, chuck the infernal thing away!" cried Joyce, jumping up in a +passion. "There's no use trying to bluff the fellow. He knows we won't +do it. But I <i>can</i> and I <i>will</i> flog him, and you tell him from me that +if he hasn't found his tongue by to-morrow morning, I'll take the skin +off his back as sure as my name's Joyce. Have you said all that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can sleep upon it, you beauty, and a good night's rest may it +give you!"</p> + +<p>He adjourned the Court, and the prisoner, as imperturbable as ever, was +led away by the guard to his supper of rice and water.</p> + +<p>Hilary Joyce was a kind-hearted man, and his own sleep was considerably +disturbed by the prospect of the punishment which he must inflict next +day. He had hopes that the mere sight of the koorbash and the thongs +might prevail over his prisoner's obstinacy. And then, again, he thought +how shocking it would be if the man proved to be really dumb after all. +The possibility shook him so that he had almost determined by daybreak +that he would send the stranger on unhurt to Assouan. And yet what a +tame conclusion it would be to the incident! He lay upon his angareeb +still debating it when the question suddenly and effectively settled +itself. Ali Mahomet rushed into his tent.</p> + +<p>"Sir," he cried, "the prisoner is gone!"</p> + +<p>"Gone!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, and your own best riding camel as well. There is a slit cut +in the tent, and he got away unseen in the early morning."</p> + +<p>The Bimbashi acted with all energy. Cavalry rode along every track; +scouts examined the soft sand of the wadys for signs of the fugitive, +but no trace was discovered. The man had utterly disappeared. With a +heavy heart Hilary Joyce wrote an official report of the matter and +forwarded it to Assouan. Five days later there came a curt order from +the Chief that he should report himself there. He feared the worst from +the stern soldier, who spared others as little as he spared himself.</p> + +<p>And his worst forebodings were realised. Travel-stained and weary, he +reported himself one night at the General's quarters. Behind a table +piled with papers and strewn with maps the famous soldier and his Chief +of Intelligence were deep in plans and figures. Their greeting was a +cold one.</p> + +<p>"I understand, Captain Joyce," said the General, "that you have allowed +a very important prisoner to slip through your fingers."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, sir."</p> + +<p>"No doubt. But that will not mend matters. Did you ascertain anything +about him before you lost him?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"How was that?"</p> + +<p>"I could get nothing out of him, sir."</p> + +<p>"Did you try?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I did what I could."</p> + +<p>"What did you do?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I threatened to use physical force."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?"</p> + +<p>"He said nothing."</p> + +<p>"What was he like?"</p> + +<p>"A tall man, sir. Rather a desperate character, I should think."</p> + +<p>"Any way by which we could identify him?"</p> + +<p>"A long black beard, sir. Grey eyes. And a nervous way of twitching his +face."</p> + +<p>"Well, Captain Joyce," said the General, in his stern, inflexible voice, +"I cannot congratulate you upon your first exploit in the Egyptian army. +You are aware that every English officer in this force is a picked man. +I have the whole British army from which to draw. It is necessary, +therefore, that I should insist upon the very highest efficiency. It +would be unfair upon the others to pass over any obvious want of zeal or +intelligence. You are seconded from the Royal Mallows, I understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt that your Colonel will be glad to see you fulfilling +your regimental duties again."</p> + +<p>Hilary Joyce's heart was too heavy for words. He was silent.</p> + +<p>"I will let you know my final decision to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>Joyce saluted and turned upon his heel.</p> + +<p>"You can sleep upon that, you beauty, and a good night's rest may it +give you!"</p> + +<p>Joyce turned in bewilderment. Where had those words been used before? +Who was it who had used them?</p> + +<p>The General was standing erect. Both he and the Chief of the +Intelligence were laughing. Joyce stared at the tall figure, the erect +bearing, the inscrutable grey eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Captain Joyce, we are quits!" said the General, holding out +his hand. "You gave me a bad ten minutes with that infernal red-hot +horseshoe of yours. I've done as much for you. I don't think we can +spare you for the Royal Mallows just yet awhile."</p> + +<p>"But, sir; but——!"</p> + +<p>"The fewer questions the better, perhaps. But of course it must seem +rather amazing. I had a little private business with the Kabbabish. It +must be done in person. I did it, and came to your post in my return. I +kept on winking at you as a sign that I wanted a word with you alone."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. I begin to understand."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't give it away before all those blacks, or where should I have +been the next time I used my false beard and Arab dress? You put me in a +very awkward position. But at last I had a word alone with your Egyptian +officer, who managed my escape all right."</p> + +<p>"He! Mahomet Ali!"</p> + +<p>"I ordered him to say nothing. I had a score to settle with you. But we +dine at eight, Captain Joyce. We live plainly here, but I think I can do +you a little better than you did me at Kurkur."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<h3>THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL</h3> + + +<h3>I: HOW THE WOMAN CAME TO KIRKBY-MALHOUSE</h3> + +<p>Bleak and wind-swept is the little town of Kirkby-Malhouse, harsh and +forbidding are the fells upon which it stands. It stretches in a single +line of grey-stone, slate-roofed houses, dotted down the furze-clad +slope of the rolling moor.</p> + +<p>In this lonely and secluded village, I, James Upperton, found myself in +the summer of '85. Little as the hamlet had to offer, it contained that +for which I yearned above all things—seclusion and freedom from all +which might distract my mind from the high and weighty subjects which +engaged it. But the inquisitiveness of my landlady made my lodgings +undesirable and I determined to seek new quarters.</p> + +<p>As it chanced, I had in one of my rambles come upon an isolated dwelling +in the very heart of these lonely moors, which I at once determined +should be my own. It was a two-roomed cottage, which had once belonged +to some shepherd, but had long been deserted, and was crumbling rapidly +to ruin. In the winter floods, the Gaster Beck, which runs down Gaster +Fell, where the little dwelling stood, had overswept its banks and torn +away a part of the wall. The roof was in ill case, and the scattered +slates lay thick amongst the grass. Yet the main shell of the house +stood firm and true; and it was no great task for me to have all that +was amiss set right.</p> + +<p>The two rooms I laid out in a widely different manner—my own tastes are +of a Spartan turn, and the outer chamber was so planned as to accord +with them. An oil-stove by Rippingille of Birmingham furnished me with +the means of cooking; while two great bags, the one of flour, and the +other of potatoes, made me independent of all supplies from without. In +diet I had long been a Pythagorean, so that the scraggy, long-limbed +sheep which browsed upon the wiry grass by the Gaster Beck had little to +fear from their new companion. A nine-gallon cask of oil served me as a +sideboard; while a square table, a deal chair and a truckle-bed +completed the list of my domestic fittings. At the head of my couch hung +two unpainted shelves—the lower for my dishes and cooking utensils, the +upper for the few portraits which took me back to the little that was +pleasant in the long, wearisome toiling for wealth and for pleasure +which had marked the life I had left behind.</p> + +<p>If this dwelling-room of mine were plain even to squalor, its poverty +was more than atoned for by the luxury of the chamber which was destined +to serve me as my study. I had ever held that it was best for my mind to +be surrounded by such objects as would be in harmony with the studies +which occupied it, and that the loftiest and most ethereal conditions of +thought are only possible amid surroundings which please the eye and +gratify the senses. The room which I had set apart for my mystic studies +was set forth in a style as gloomy and majestic as the thoughts and +aspirations with which it was to harmonise. Both walls and ceilings were +covered with a paper of the richest and glossiest black, on which was +traced a lurid and arabesque pattern of dead gold. A black velvet +curtain covered the single diamond-paned window; while a thick, yielding +carpet of the same material prevented the sound of my own footfalls, as +I paced backward and forward, from breaking the current of my thought. +Along the cornices ran gold rods, from which depended six pictures, all +of the sombre and imaginative caste, which chimed best with my fancy.</p> + +<p>And yet it was destined that ere ever I reached this quiet harbour I +should learn that I was still one of humankind, and that it is an ill +thing to strive to break the bond which binds us to our fellows. It was +but two nights before the date I had fixed upon for my change of +dwelling, when I was conscious of a bustle in the house beneath, with +the bearing of heavy burdens up the creaking stair, and the harsh voice +of my landlady, loud in welcome and protestations of joy. From time to +time, amid the whirl of words, I could hear a gentle and softly +modulated voice, which struck pleasantly upon my ear after the long +weeks during which I had listened only to the rude dialect of the +dalesmen. For an hour I could hear the dialogue beneath—the high voice +and the low, with clatter of cup and clink of spoon, until at last a +light, quick step passed my study door, and I knew that my new +fellow-lodger had sought her room.</p> + +<p>On the morning after this incident I was up be-times, as is my wont; but +I was surprised, on glancing from my window, to see that our new inmate +was earlier still. She was walking down the narrow pathway, which +zigzags over the fell—a tall woman, slender, her head sunk upon her +breast, her arms filled with a bristle of wild flowers, which she had +gathered in her morning rambles. The white and pink of her dress, and +the touch of deep red ribbon in her broad drooping hat, formed a +pleasant dash of colour against the dun-tinted landscape. She was some +distance off when I first set eyes upon her, yet I knew that this +wandering woman could be none other than our arrival of last night, for +there was a grace and refinement in her bearing which marked her from +the dwellers of the fells. Even as I watched she passed swiftly and +lightly down the pathway, and turning through the wicket gate, at the +further end of our cottage garden, she seated herself upon the green +bank which faced my window, and strewing her flowers in front of her, +set herself to arrange them.</p> + +<p>As she sat there, with the rising sun at her back, and the glow of the +morning spreading like an aureole around her stately and well-poised +head, I could see that she was a woman of extraordinary personal beauty. +Her face was Spanish rather than English in its type—oval, olive, with +black, sparkling eyes, and a sweetly sensitive mouth. From under the +broad straw hat two thick coils of blue-black hair curved down on either +side of her graceful queenly neck. I was surprised, as I watched her, to +see that her shoes and skirt bore witness to a journey rather than to a +mere morning ramble. Her light dress was stained, wet and bedraggled; +while her boots were thick with the yellow soil of the fells. Her face, +too, wore a weary expression, and her young beauty seemed to be clouded +over by the shadow of inward trouble. Even as I watched her, she burst +suddenly into wild weeping, and throwing down her bundle of flowers ran +swiftly into the house.</p> + +<p>Distrait as I was and weary of the ways of the world, I was conscious of +a sudden pang of sympathy and grief as I looked upon the spasm of +despair which seemed to convulse this strange and beautiful woman. I +bent to my books, and yet my thoughts would ever turn to her proud +clear-cut face, her weather-stained dress, her drooping head, and the +sorrow which lay in each line and feature of her pensive face.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Adams, my landlady, was wont to carry up my frugal breakfast; yet +it was very rarely that I allowed her to break the current of my +thoughts, or to draw my mind by her idle chatter from weightier things. +This morning, however, for once, she found me in a listening mood, and +with little prompting, proceeded to pour into my ears all that she knew +of our beautiful visitor.</p> + +<p>"Miss Eva Cameron be her name, sir," she said: "but who she be, or where +she came fra, I know little more than yoursel'. Maybe it was the same +reason that brought her to Kirkby-Malhouse as fetched you there +yoursel', sir."</p> + +<p>"Possibly," said I, ignoring the covert question; "but I should hardly +have thought that Kirkby-Malhouse was a place which offered any great +attractions to a young lady."</p> + +<p>"Heh, sir!" she cried, "there's the wonder of it. The leddy has just +come fra France; and how her folk come to learn of me is just a wonder. +A week ago, up comes a man to my door—a fine man, sir, and a gentleman, +as one could see with half an eye. 'You are Mrs. Adams,' says he. 'I +engage your rooms for Miss Cameron,' says he. 'She will be here in a +week,' says he; and then off without a word of terms. Last night there +comes the young leddy hersel'—soft-spoken and downcast, with a touch of +the French in her speech. But my sakes, sir! I must away and mak' her +some tea, for she'll feel lonesome-like, poor lamb, when she wakes under +a strange roof."</p> + + +<h3>II: HOW I WENT FORTH TO GASTER FELL</h3> + +<p>I was still engaged upon my breakfast when I heard the clatter of dishes +and the landlady's footfall as she passed toward her new lodger's room. +An instant afterward she had rushed down the passage and burst in upon +me with uplifted hand and startled eyes. "Lord 'a mercy, sir!" she +cried, "and asking your pardon for troubling you, but I'm feared o' the +young leddy, sir; she is not in her room."</p> + +<p>"Why, there she is," said I, standing up and glancing through the +casement. "She has gone back for the flowers she left upon the bank."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, see her boots and her dress!" cried the landlady wildly. "I +wish her mother was here, sir—I do. Where she has been is more than I +ken, but her bed has not been lain on this night."</p> + +<p>"She has felt restless, doubtless, and went for a walk, though the hour +was certainly a strange one."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Adams pursed her lip and shook her head. But then as she stood at +the casement, the girl beneath looked smilingly up at her and beckoned +to her with a merry gesture to open the window.</p> + +<p>"Have you my tea there?" she asked in a rich, clear voice, with a touch +of the mincing French accent.</p> + +<p>"It is in your room, miss."</p> + +<p>"Look at my boots, Mrs. Adams!" she cried, thrusting them out from under +her skirt. "These fells of yours are dreadful places—<i>effroyable</i>—one +inch, two inch; never have I seen such mud! My dress, too—<i>voilà</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Eh, miss, but you are in a pickle," cried the landlady, as she gazed +down at the bedraggled gown. "But you must be main weary and heavy for +sleep."</p> + +<p>"No, no," she answered laughingly, "I care not for sleep. What is sleep? +it is a little death—<i>voilà tout</i>. But for me to walk, to run, to +breathe the air—that is to live. I was not tired, and so all night I +have explored these fells of Yorkshire."</p> + +<p>"Lord 'a mercy, miss, and where did you go?" asked Mrs. Adams.</p> + +<p>She waved her hand round in a sweeping gesture which included the whole +western horizon. "There," she cried. "O comme elles sont tristes et +sauvages, ces collines! But I have flowers here. You will give me water, +will you not? They will wither else." She gathered her treasures in her +lap, and a moment later we heard her light, springy footfall upon the +stair.</p> + +<p>So she had been out all night, this strange woman. What motive could +have taken her from her snug room on to the bleak, wind-swept hills? +Could it be merely the restlessness, the love of adventure of a young +girl? Or was there, possibly, some deeper meaning in this nocturnal +journey?</p> + +<p>Deep as were the mysteries which my studies had taught me to solve, here +was a human problem which for the moment at least was beyond my +comprehension. I had walked out on the moor in the forenoon, and on my +return, as I topped the brow that overlooks the little town, I saw my +fellow-lodger some little distance off amongst the gorse. She had raised +a light easel in front of her, and, with papered board laid across it, +was preparing to paint the magnificent landscape of rock and moor which +stretched away in front of her. As I watched her I saw that she was +looking anxiously to right and left. Close by me a pool of water had +formed in a hollow. Dipping the cup of my pocket-flask into it, I +carried it across to her.</p> + +<p>"Miss Cameron, I believe," said I. "I am your fellow-lodger. Upperton is +my name. We must introduce ourselves in these wilds if we are not to be +for ever strangers."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then, you live also with Mrs. Adams!" she cried. "I had thought +that there were none but peasants in this strange place."</p> + +<p>"I am a visitor, like yourself," I answered. "I am a student, and have +come for quiet and repose, which my studies demand."</p> + +<p>"Quiet, indeed!" said she, glancing round at the vast circle of silent +moors, with the one tiny line of grey cottages which sloped down beneath +us.</p> + +<p>"And yet not quiet enough," I answered, laughing, "for I have been +forced to move further into the fells for the absolute peace which I +require."</p> + +<p>"Have you, then, built a house upon the fells?" she asked, arching her +eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"I have, and hope within a few days to occupy it."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but that is <i>triste</i>," she cried. "And where is it, then, this +house which you have built?"</p> + +<p>"It is over yonder," I answered. "See that stream which lies like a +silver band upon the distant moor? It is the Gaster Beck, and it runs +through Gaster Fell."</p> + +<p>She started, and turned upon me her great dark, questioning eyes with a +look in which surprise, incredulity, and something akin to horror seemed +to be struggling for mastery.</p> + +<p>"And you will live on the Gaster Fell?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"So I have planned. But what do you know of Gaster Fell, Miss Cameron?" +I asked. "I had thought that you were a stranger in these parts."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I have never been here before," she answered. "But I have heard +my brother talk of these Yorkshire moors; and, if I mistake not, I have +heard him name this very one as the wildest and most savage of them +all."</p> + +<p>"Very likely," said I carelessly. "It is indeed a dreary place."</p> + +<p>"Then why live there?" she cried eagerly. "Consider the loneliness, the +barrenness, the want of all comfort and of all aid, should aid be +needed."</p> + +<p>"Aid! What aid should be needed on Gaster Fell?"</p> + +<p>She looked down and shrugged her shoulders. "Sickness may come in all +places," said she. "If I were a man I do not think I would live alone on +Gaster Fell."</p> + +<p>"I have braved worse dangers than that," said I, laughing; "but I fear +that your picture will be spoiled, for the clouds are banking up, and +already I feel a few raindrops."</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was high time we were on our way to shelter, for even as I +spoke there came the sudden, steady swish of the shower. Laughing +merrily, my companion threw her light shawl over her head, and, seizing +picture and easel, ran with the lithe grace of a young fawn down the +furze-clad slope, while I followed after with camp-stool and paint-box.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was the eve of my departure from Kirkby-Malhouse that we sat upon the +green bank in the garden, she with dark, dreamy eyes looking sadly out +over the sombre fells; while I, with a book upon my knee, glanced +covertly at her lovely profile and marvelled to myself how twenty years +of life could have stamped so sad and wistful an expression upon it.</p> + +<p>"You have read much," I remarked at last. "Women have opportunities now +such as their mothers never knew. Have you ever thought of going +further—of seeking a course of college or even a learned profession?"</p> + +<p>She smiled wearily at the thought.</p> + +<p>"I have no aim, no ambition," she said. "My future is black—confused—a +chaos. My life is like to one of these paths upon the fells. You have +seen them, Monsieur Upperton. They are smooth and straight and clear +where they begin; but soon they wind to left and wind to right, and so +mid rocks and crags until they lose themselves in some quagmire. At +Brussels my path was straight; but now, <i>mon Dieu!</i> who is there can +tell me where it leads?"</p> + +<p>"It might take no prophet to do that, Miss Cameron," quoth I, with the +fatherly manner which two-score years may show toward one. "If I may +read your life, I would venture to say that you were destined to fulfil +the lot of women—to make some good man happy, and to shed around, in +some wider circle, the pleasure which your society has given me since +first I knew you."</p> + +<p>"I will never marry," said she, with a sharp decision, which surprised +and somewhat amused me.</p> + +<p>"Not marry—and why?"</p> + +<p>A strange look passed over her sensitive features, and she plucked +nervously at the grass on the bank beside her.</p> + +<p>"I dare not," said she in a voice that quivered with emotion.</p> + +<p>"Dare not?"</p> + +<p>"It is not for me. I have other things to do. That path of which I spoke +is one which I must tread alone."</p> + +<p>"But this is morbid," said I. "Why should your lot, Miss Cameron, be +separated from that of my own sisters, or the thousand other young +ladies whom every season brings out into the world? But perhaps it is +that you have a fear and distrust of mankind. Marriage brings a risk as +well as a happiness."</p> + +<p>"The risk would be with the man who married me," she cried. And then in +an instant, as though she had said too much, she sprang to her feet and +drew her mantle round her. "The night air is chill, Mr. Upperton," said +she, and so swept swiftly away, leaving me to muse over the strange +words which had fallen from her lips.</p> + +<p>Clearly, it was time that I should go. I set my teeth and vowed that +another day should not have passed before I should have snapped this +newly formed tie and sought the lonely retreat which awaited me upon the +moors. Breakfast was hardly over in the morning before a peasant dragged +up to the door the rude hand-cart which was to convey my few personal +belongings to my new dwelling. My fellow-lodger had kept her room; and, +steeled as my mind was against her influence, I was yet conscious of a +little throb of disappointment that she should allow me to depart +without a word of farewell. My hand-cart with its load of books had +already started, and I, having shaken hands with Mrs. Adams, was about +to follow it, when there was a quick scurry of feet on the stair, and +there she was beside me all panting with her own haste.</p> + +<p>"Then you go—you really go?" said she.</p> + +<p>"My studies call me."</p> + +<p>"And to Gaster Fell?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes; to the cottage which I have built there."</p> + +<p>"And you will live alone there?"</p> + +<p>"With my hundred companions who lie in that cart."</p> + +<p>"Ah, books!" she cried, with a pretty shrug of her graceful shoulders. +"But you will make me a promise?"</p> + +<p>"What is it?" I asked, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"It is a small thing. You will not refuse me?"</p> + +<p>"You have but to ask it."</p> + +<p>She bent forward her beautiful face with an expression of the most +intense earnestness. "You will bolt your door at night?" said she; and +was gone ere I could say a word in answer to her extraordinary request.</p> + +<p>It was a strange thing for me to find myself at last duly installed in +my lonely dwelling. For me, now, the horizon was bounded by the barren +circle of wiry, unprofitable grass, patched over with furze bushes and +scarred by the profusion of Nature's gaunt and granite ribs. A duller, +wearier waste I have never seen; but its dulness was its very charm.</p> + +<p>And yet the very first night which I spent at Gaster Fell there came a +strange incident to lead my thoughts back once more to the world which I +had left behind me.</p> + +<p>It had been a sullen and sultry evening, with great livid cloud-banks +mustering in the west. As the night wore on, the air within my little +cabin became closer and more oppressive. A weight seemed to rest upon my +brow and my chest. From far away the low rumble of thunder came moaning +over the moor. Unable to sleep, I dressed, and standing at my cottage +door, looked on the black solitude which surrounded me.</p> + +<p>Taking the narrow sheep path which ran by this stream, I strolled along +it for some hundred yards, and had turned to retrace my steps, when the +moon was finally buried beneath an ink-black cloud, and the darkness +deepened so suddenly that I could see neither the path at my feet, the +stream upon my right, nor the rocks upon my left. I was standing groping +about in the thick gloom, when there came a crash of thunder with a +flash of lightning which lighted up the whole vast fell, so that every +bush and rock stood out clear and hard in the vivid light. It was but +for an instant, and yet that momentary view struck a thrill of fear and +astonishment through me, for in my very path, not twenty yards before +me, there stood a woman, the livid light beating upon her face and +showing up every detail of her dress and features.</p> + +<p>There was no mistaking those dark eyes, that tall, graceful figure. It +was she—Eva Cameron, the woman whom I thought I had for ever left. For +an instant I stood petrified, marvelling whether this could indeed be +she, or whether it was some figment conjured up by my excited brain. +Then I ran swiftly forward in the direction where I had seen her, +calling loudly upon her, but without reply. Again I called, and again no +answer came back, save the melancholy wail of the owl. A second flash +illuminated the landscape, and the moon burst out from behind its cloud. +But I could not, though I climbed upon a knoll which overlooked the +whole moor, see any sign of this strange midnight wanderer. For an hour +or more I traversed the fell, and at last found myself back at my little +cabin, still uncertain as to whether it had been a woman or a shadow +upon which I gazed.</p> + + +<h3>III: OF THE GREY COTTAGE IN THE GLEN</h3> + +<p>It was either on the fourth or the fifth day after I had taken +possession of my cottage that I was astonished to hear footsteps upon +the grass outside, quickly followed by a crack, as from a stick upon the +door. The explosion of an infernal machine would hardly have surprised +or discomfited me more. I had hoped to have shaken off all intrusion for +ever, yet here was somebody beating at my door with as little ceremony +as if it had been a village ale-house. Hot with anger, I flung down my +book and withdrew the bolt just as my visitor had raised his stick to +renew his rough application for admittance. He was a tall, powerful man, +tawny-bearded and deep-chested, clad in a loose-fitting suit of tweed, +cut for comfort rather than elegance. As he stood in the shimmering +sunlight, I took in every feature of his face. The large, fleshy nose; +the steady blue eyes, with their thick thatch of overhanging brows; the +broad forehead, all knitted and lined with furrows, which were strangely +at variance with his youthful bearing. In spite of his weather-stained +felt hat, and the coloured handkerchief slung round his muscular brown +neck, I could see at a glance he was a man of breeding and education. I +had been prepared for some wandering shepherd or uncouth tramp, but this +apparition fairly disconcerted me.</p> + +<p>"You look astonished," said he, with a smile. "Did you think, then, that +you were the only man in the world with a taste for solitude? You see +that there are other hermits in the wilderness besides yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that you live here?" I asked in no conciliatory +voice.</p> + +<p>"Up yonder," he answered, tossing his head backward. "I thought as we +were neighbours, Mr. Upperton, that I could not do less than look in and +see if I could assist you in any way."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I said coldly, standing with my hand upon the latch of the +door. "I am a man of simple tastes, and you can do nothing for me. You +have the advantage of me in knowing my name."</p> + +<p>He appeared to be chilled by my ungracious manner.</p> + +<p>"I learned it from the masons who were at work here," he said. "As for +me, I am a surgeon, the surgeon of Gaster Fell. That is the name I have +gone by in these parts, and it serves as well as another."</p> + +<p>"Not much room for practice here?" I observed.</p> + +<p>"Not a soul except yourself for miles on either side."</p> + +<p>"You appear to have had need of some assistance yourself," I remarked, +glancing at a broad white splash, as from the recent action of some +powerful acid, upon his sunburnt cheek.</p> + +<p>"That is nothing," he answered, curtly, turning his face half round to +hide the mark. "I must get back, for I have a companion who is waiting +for me. If I can ever do anything for you, pray let me know. You have +only to follow the beck upward for a mile or so to find my place. Have +you a bolt on the inside of your door?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered, rather startled at this question.</p> + +<p>"Keep it bolted, then," he said. "The fell is a strange place. You never +know who may be about. It is as well to be on the safe side. Good-bye." +He raised his hat, turned on his heel and lounged away along the bank of +the little stream.</p> + +<p>I was still standing with my hand upon the latch, gazing after my +unexpected visitor, when I became aware of yet another dweller in the +wilderness. Some distance along the path which the stranger was taking +there lay a great grey boulder, and leaning against this was a small, +wizened man, who stood erect as the other approached, and advanced to +meet him. The two talked for a minute or more, the taller man nodding +his head frequently in my direction, as though describing what had +passed between us. Then they walked on together, and disappeared in a +dip of the fell. Presently I saw them ascending once more some rising +ground farther on. My acquaintance had thrown his arm round his elderly +friend, either from affection or from a desire to aid him up the steep +incline. The square burly figure and its shrivelled, meagre companion +stood out against the sky-line, and turning their faces, they looked +back at me. At the sight, I slammed the door, lest they should be +encouraged to return. But when I peeped from the window some minutes +afterward, I perceived that they were gone.</p> + +<p>All day I bent over the Egyptian papyrus upon which I was engaged; but +neither the subtle reasonings of the ancient philosopher of Memphis, nor +the mystic meaning which lay in his pages, could raise my mind from the +things of earth. Evening was drawing in before I threw my work aside in +despair. My heart was bitter against this man for his intrusion. +Standing by the beck which purled past the door of my cabin, I cooled my +heated brow, and thought the matter over. Clearly it was the small +mystery hanging over these neighbours of mine which had caused my mind +to run so persistently on them. That cleared up, they would no longer +cause an obstacle to my studies. What was to hinder me, then, from +walking in the direction of their dwelling, and observing for myself, +without permitting them to suspect my presence, what manner of men they +might be? Doubtless, their mode of life would be found to admit of some +simple and prosaic explanation. In any case, the evening was fine, and a +walk would be bracing for mind and body. Lighting my pipe, I set off +over the moors in the direction which they had taken.</p> + +<p>About half-way down a wild glen there stood a small clump of gnarled and +stunted oak trees. From behind these, a thin dark column of smoke rose +into the still evening air. Clearly this marked the position of my +neighbour's house. Trending away to the left, I was able to gain the +shelter of a line of rocks, and so reach a spot from which I could +command a view of the building without exposing myself to any risk of +being observed. It was a small, slate-covered cottage, hardly larger +than the boulders among which it lay. Like my own cabin, it showed signs +of having been constructed for the use of some shepherd; but, unlike +mine, no pains had been taken by the tenants to improve and enlarge it. +Two little peeping windows, a cracked and weather-beaten door, and a +discoloured barrel for catching the rain water, were the only external +objects from which I might draw deductions as to the dwellers within. +Yet even in these there was food for thought, for as I drew nearer, +still concealing myself behind the ridge, I saw that thick bars of iron +covered the windows, while the old door was slashed and plated with the +same metal. These strange precautions, together with the wild +surroundings and unbroken solitude, gave an indescribably ill omen and +fearsome character to the solitary building. Thrusting my pipe into my +pocket, I crawled upon my hands and knees through the gorse and ferns +until I was within a hundred yards of my neighbour's door. There, +finding that I could not approach nearer without fear of detection, I +crouched down, and set myself to watch.</p> + +<p>I had hardly settled into my hiding place, when the door of the cottage +swung open, and the man who had introduced himself to me as the surgeon +of Gaster Fell came out, bareheaded, with a spade in his hands. In front +of the door there was a small cultivated patch containing potatoes, peas +and other forms of green stuff, and here he proceeded to busy himself, +trimming, weeding and arranging, singing the while in a powerful though +not very musical voice. He was all engrossed in his work, with his back +to the cottage, when there emerged from the half-open door the same +attenuated creature whom I had seen in the morning. I could perceive now +that he was a man of sixty, wrinkled, bent, and feeble, with sparse, +grizzled hair, and long, colourless face. With a cringing, sidelong +gait, he shuffled toward his companion, who was unconscious of his +approach until he was close upon him. His light footfall or his +breathing may have finally given notice of his proximity, for the worker +sprang round and faced him. Each made a quick step toward the other, as +though in greeting, and then—even now I feel the horror of the +instant—the tall man rushed upon and knocked his companion to the +earth, then whipping up his body, ran with great speed over the +intervening ground and disappeared with his burden into the house.</p> + +<p>Case hardened as I was by my varied life, the suddenness and violence of +the thing made me shudder. The man's age, his feeble frame, his humble +and deprecating manner, all cried shame against the deed. So hot was my +anger, that I was on the point of striding up to the cabin, unarmed as I +was, when the sound of voices from within showed me that the victim had +recovered. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and all was grey, save +a red feather in the cap of Pennigent. Secure in the failing light, I +approached near and strained my ears to catch what was passing. I could +hear the high, querulous voice of the elder man and the deep, rough +monotone of his assailant, mixed with a strange metallic jangling and +clanking. Presently the surgeon came out, locked the door behind him and +stamped up and down in the twilight, pulling at his hair and brandishing +his arms, like a man demented. Then he set off, walking rapidly up the +valley, and I soon lost sight of him among the rocks.</p> + +<p>When his footsteps had died away in the distance, I drew nearer to the +cottage. The prisoner within was still pouring forth a stream of words, +and moaning from time to time like a man in pain. These words resolved +themselves, as I approached, into prayers—shrill, voluble prayers, +pattered forth with the intense earnestness of one who sees impending +and imminent danger. There was to me something inexpressibly awesome in +this gush of solemn entreaty from the lonely sufferer, meant for no +human ear, and jarring upon the silence of the night. I was still +pondering whether I should mix myself in the affair or not, when I heard +in the distance the sound of the surgeon's returning footfall. At that I +drew myself up quickly by the iron bars and glanced in through the +diamond-paned window. The interior of the cottage was lighted up by a +lurid glow, coming from what I afterward discovered to be a chemical +furnace. By its rich light I could distinguish a great litter of +retorts, test tubes and condensers, which sparkled over the table, and +threw strange, grotesque shadows on the wall. On the further side of the +room was a wooden framework resembling a hencoop, and in this, still +absorbed in prayer, knelt the man whose voice I heard. The red glow +beating upon his upturned face made it stand out from the shadow like a +painting from Rembrandt, showing up every wrinkle upon the +parchment-like skin. I had but time for a fleeting glance; then, +dropping from the window, I made off through the rocks and the heather, +nor slackened my pace until I found myself back in my cabin once more. +There I threw myself upon my couch, more disturbed and shaken than I had +ever thought to feel again.</p> + +<p>Such doubts as I might have had as to whether I had indeed seen my +former fellow-lodger upon the night of the thunderstorm were resolved +the next morning. Strolling along down the path which led to the fell, I +saw in one spot where the ground was soft the impressions of a foot—the +small, dainty foot of a well-booted woman. That tiny heel and high +in-step could have belonged to none other than my companion of +Kirkby-Malhouse. I followed her trail for some distance, till it still +pointed, so far as I could discern it, to the lonely and ill-omened +cottage. What power could there be to draw this tender girl, through +wind and rain and darkness, across the fearsome moors to that strange +rendezvous?</p> + +<p>I have said that a little beck flowed down the valley and past my very +door. A week or so after the doings which I have described, I was seated +by my window when I perceived something white drifting slowly down the +stream. My first thought was that it was a drowning sheep; but picking +up my stick, I strolled to the bank and hooked it ashore. On examination +it prove to be a large sheet, torn and tattered, with the initials J. C. +in the corner. What gave it its sinister significance, however, was that +from hem to hem it was all dabbled and discoloured.</p> + +<p>Shutting the door of my cabin, I set off up the glen in the direction of +the surgeon's cabin. I had not gone far before I perceived the very man +himself. He was walking rapidly along the hillside, beating the furze +bushes with a cudgel and bellowing like a madman. Indeed, at the sight +of him, the doubts as to his sanity which had risen in my mind were +strengthened and confirmed.</p> + +<p>As he approached I noticed that his left arm was suspended in a sling. +On perceiving me he stood irresolute, as though uncertain whether to +come over to me or not. I had no desire for an interview with him, +however, so I hurried past him, on which he continued on his way, still +shouting and striking about with his club. When he had disappeared over +the fells, I made my way down to his cottage, determined to find some +clue to what occurred. I was surprised, on reaching it, to find the +iron-plated door flung wide open. The ground immediately outside it was +marked with the signs of a struggle. The chemical apparatus within and +the furniture were all dashed about and shattered. Most suggestive of +all, the sinister wooden cage was stained with blood-marks, and its +unfortunate occupant had disappeared. My heart was heavy for the little +man, for I was assured I should never see him in this world more.</p> + +<p>There was nothing in the cabin to throw any light upon the identity of +my neighbours. The room was stuffed with chemical instruments. In one +corner a small bookcase contained a choice selection of works of +science. In another was a pile of geological specimens collected from +the limestone.</p> + +<p>I caught no glimpse of the surgeon upon my homeward journey; but when I +reached my cottage I was astonished and indignant to find that somebody +had entered it in my absence. Boxes had been pulled out from under the +bed, the curtains disarranged, the chairs drawn out from the wall. Even +my study had not been safe from this rough intruder, for the prints of a +heavy boot were plainly visible on the ebony-black carpet.</p> + + +<h3>IV: OF THE MAN WHO CAME IN THE NIGHT</h3> + +<p>The night set in gusty and tempestuous, and the moon was all girt with +ragged clouds. The wind blew in melancholy gusts, sobbing and sighing +over the moor, and setting all the gorse bushes agroaning. From time to +time a little sputter of rain pattered up against the window-pane. I sat +until near midnight, glancing over the fragment on immortality by +Iamblichus, the Alexandrian platonist, of whom the Emperor Julian said +that he was posterior to Plato in time but not in genius. At last, +shutting up my book, I opened my door and took a last look at the dreary +fell and still more dreary sky. As I protruded my head, a swoop of wind +caught me and sent the red ashes of my pipe sparkling and dancing +through the darkness. At the same moment the moon shone brilliantly out +from between two clouds and I saw, sitting on the hillside, not two +hundred yards from my door, the man who called himself the surgeon of +Gaster Fell. He was squatted among the heather, his elbows upon his +knees, and his chin resting upon his hands, as motionless as a stone, +with his gaze fixed steadily upon the door of my dwelling.</p> + +<p>At the sight of this ill-omened sentinel, a chill of horror and of fear +shot through me, for his gloomy and mysterious associations had cast a +glamour round the man, and the hour and place were in keeping with his +sinister presence. In a moment, however, a manly glow of resentment and +self-confidence drove this petty emotion from my mind, and I strode +fearlessly in his direction. He rose as I approached and faced me, with +the moon shining on his grave, bearded face and glittering on his +eyeballs. "What is the meaning of this?" I cried, as I came upon him. +"What right have you to play the spy on me?"</p> + +<p>I could see the flush of anger rise on his face. "Your stay in the +country has made you forget your manners," he said. "The moor is free to +all."</p> + +<p>"You will say next that my house is free to all," I said, hotly. "You +have had the impertinence to ransack it in my absence this afternoon."</p> + +<p>He started, and his features showed the most intense excitement. "I +swear to you that I had no hand in it!" he cried. "I have never set foot +in your house in my life. Oh, sir, sir, if you will but believe me, +there is a danger hanging over you, and you would do well to be +careful."</p> + +<p>"I have had enough of you," I said. "I saw that cowardly blow you struck +when you thought no human eye rested upon you. I have been to your +cottage, too, and know all that it has to tell. If there is a law in +England, you shall hang for what you have done. As to me, I am an old +soldier, sir, and I am armed. I shall not fasten my door. But if you or +any other villain attempt to cross my threshold it shall be at your own +risk." With these words, I swung round upon my heel and strode into my +cabin.</p> + +<p>For two days the wind freshened and increased, with constant squalls of +rain until on the third night the most furious storm was raging which I +can ever recollect in England. I felt that it was positively useless to +go to bed, nor could I concentrate my mind sufficiently to read a book. +I turned my lamp half down to moderate the glare, and leaning back in my +chair, I gave myself up to reverie. I must have lost all perception of +time, for I have no recollection how long I sat there on the borderland +betwixt thought and slumber. At last, about 3 or possibly 4 o'clock, I +came to myself with a start—not only came to myself, but with every +sense and nerve upon the strain. Looking round my chamber in the dim +light, I could not see anything to justify my sudden trepidation. The +homely room, the rain-blurred window and the rude wooden door were all +as they had been. I had begun to persuade myself that some half-formed +dream had sent that vague thrill through my nerves, when in a moment I +became conscious of what it was. It was a sound—the sound of a human +step outside my solitary cottage.</p> + +<p>Amid the thunder and the rain and the wind I could hear it—a dull, +stealthy footfall, now on the grass, now on the stones—occasionally +stopping entirely, then resumed, and ever drawing nearer. I sat +breathlessly, listening to the eerie sound. It had stopped now at my +very door, and was replaced by a panting and gasping, as of one who has +travelled fast and far.</p> + +<p>By the flickering light of the expiring lamp I could see that the latch +of my door was twitching, as though a gentle pressure was exerted on it +from without. Slowly, slowly, it rose, until it was free of the catch, +and then there was a pause of a quarter minute or more, while I still +sat silent with dilated eyes and drawn sabre. Then, very slowly, the +door began to revolve upon its hinges, and the keen air of the night +came whistling through the slit. Very cautiously it was pushed open, so +that never a sound came from the rusty hinges. As the aperture enlarged, +I became aware of a dark, shadowy figure upon my threshold, and of a +pale face that looked in at me. The features were human, but the eyes +were not. They seemed to burn through the darkness with a greenish +brilliancy of their own; and in their baleful, shifty glare I was +conscious of the very spirit of murder. Springing from my chair, I had +raised my naked sword, when, with a wild shouting, a second figure +dashed up to my door. At its approach my shadowy visitant uttered a +shrill cry, and fled away across the fells, yelping like a beaten hound.</p> + +<p>Tingling with my recent fear, I stood at my door, peering through the +night with the discordant cry of the fugitives still ringing in my ears. +At that moment a vivid flash of lightning illuminated the whole +landscape and made it as clear as day. By its light I saw far away upon +the hillside two dark figures pursuing each other with extreme rapidity +across the fells. Even at that distance the contrast between them forbid +all doubt as to their identity. The first was the small, elderly man, +whom I had supposed to be dead; the second was my neighbour, the +surgeon. For an instant they stood out clear and hard in the unearthly +light; in the next, the darkness had closed over them, and they were +gone. As I turned to re-enter my chamber, my foot rattled against +something on my threshold. Stooping, I found it was a straight knife, +fashioned entirely of lead, and so soft and brittle that it was a +strange choice for a weapon. To render it more harmless, the top had +been cut square off. The edge, however, had been assiduously sharpened +against a stone, as was evident from the markings upon it, so that it +was still a dangerous implement in the grasp of a determined man.</p> + +<p>And what was the meaning of it all? you ask. Many a drama which I have +come across in my wandering life, some as strange and as striking as +this one, has lacked the ultimate explanation which you demand. Fate is +a grand weaver of tales; but she ends them, as a rule, in defiance of +all artistic laws, and with an unbecoming want of regard for literary +propriety. As it happens, however, I have a letter before me as I write +which I may add without comment, and which will clear all that may +remain dark.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Kirkby Lunatic Asylum</span>,</p> + +<p>"<i>September 4th</i>, 1885.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I am deeply conscious that some apology and explanation +is due to you for the very startling and, in your eyes, +mysterious events which have recently occurred, and which have +so seriously interfered with the retired existence which you +desire to lead. I should have called upon you on the morning +after the recapture of my father, but my knowledge of your +dislike to visitors and also of—you will excuse my saying +it—your very violent temper, led me to think that it was +better to communicate with you by letter.</p> + +<p>"My poor father was a hard-working general practitioner in +Birmingham, where his name is still remembered and respected. +About ten years ago he began to show signs of mental +aberration, which we were inclined to put down to overwork and +the effects of a sunstroke. Feeling my own incompetence to +pronounce upon a case of such importance, I at once sought the +highest advice in Birmingham and London. Among others we +consulted the eminent alienist, Mr. Fraser Brown, who +pronounced my father's case to be intermittent in its nature, +but dangerous during the paroxysms. 'It may take a homicidal, +or it may take a religious turn,' he said; 'or it may prove to +be a mixture of both. For months he may be as well as you or I, +and then in a moment he may break out. You will incur a great +responsibility if you leave him without supervision.'</p> + +<p>"I need say no more, sir. You will understand the terrible task +which has fallen upon my poor sister and me in endeavoring to +save my father from the asylum which in his sane moments filled +him with horror. I can only regret that your peace has been +disturbed by our misfortunes, and I offer you in my sister's +name and my own our apologies.</p> + +<p>"Yours truly,</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">J. Cameron</span>."</p></blockquote> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<h3>BORROWED SCENES</h3> + +<blockquote><p>"It cannot be done. People really would not stand it. I know +because I have tried."—<i>Extract from an unpublished paper upon +George Borrow and his writings.</i></p></blockquote> + + +<p>Yes, I tried and my experience may interest other people. You must +imagine, then, that I am soaked in George Borrow, especially in his +<i>Lavengro</i> and his <i>Romany Rye</i>, that I have modelled both my thoughts, +my speech and my style very carefully upon those of the master, and that +finally I set forth one summer day actually to lead the life of which I +had read. Behold me, then, upon the country road which leads from the +railway-station to the Sussex village of Swinehurst.</p> + +<p>As I walked, I entertained myself by recollections of the founders of +Sussex, of Cerdic that mighty sea-rover, and of Ella his son, said by +the bard to be taller by the length of a spear-head than the tallest of +his fellows. I mentioned the matter twice to peasants whom I met upon +the road. One, a tallish man with a freckled face, sidled past me and +ran swiftly towards the station. The other, a smaller and older man, +stood entranced while I recited to him that passage of the Saxon +Chronicle which begins, "Then came Leija with longships forty-four, and +the fyrd went out against him." I was pointing out to him that the +Chronicle had been written partly by the monks of Saint Albans and +afterwards by those of Peterborough, but the fellow sprang suddenly over +a gate and disappeared.</p> + +<p>The village of Swinehurst is a straggling line of half-timbered houses +of the early English pattern. One of these houses stood, as I observed, +somewhat taller than the rest, and seeing by its appearance and by the +sign which hung before it that it was the village inn, I approached it, +for indeed I had not broken my fast since I had left London. A stoutish +man, five foot eight perhaps in height, with black coat and trousers of +a greyish shade, stood outside, and to him I talked in the fashion of +the master.</p> + +<p>"Why a rose and why a crown?" I asked as I pointed upwards.</p> + +<p>He looked at me in a strange manner. The man's whole appearance was +strange. "Why not?" he answered, and shrank a little backwards.</p> + +<p>"The sign of a king," said I.</p> + +<p>"Surely," said he. "What else should we understand from a crown?"</p> + +<p>"And which king?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"You will excuse me," said he, and tried to pass.</p> + +<p>"Which king?" I repeated.</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You should know by the rose," said I, "which is the symbol of that +Tudor-ap-Tudor, who, coming from the mountains of Wales, yet seated his +posterity upon the English throne. Tudor," I continued, getting between +the stranger and the door of the inn, through which he appeared to be +desirous of passing, "was of the same blood as Owen Glendower, the +famous chieftain, who is by no means to be confused with Owen Gwynedd, +the father of Madoc of the Sea, of whom the bard made the famous cnylyn, +which runs in the Welsh as follows:—"</p> + +<p>I was about to repeat the famous stanza of Dafydd-ap-Gwilyn when the +man, who had looked very fixedly and strangely at me as I spoke, pushed +past me and entered the inn. "Truly," said I aloud, "it is surely +Swinehurst to which I have come, since the same means the grove of the +hogs." So saying I followed the fellow into the bar parlour, where I +perceived him seated in a corner with a large chair in front of him. +Four persons of various degrees were drinking beer at a central table, +whilst a small man of active build, in a black, shiny suit, which seemed +to have seen much service, stood before the empty fireplace. Him I took +to be the landlord, and I asked him what I should have for my dinner.</p> + +<p>He smiled, and said that he could not tell.</p> + +<p>"But surely, my friend," said I, "you can tell me what is ready?"</p> + +<p>"Even that I cannot do," he answered; "but I doubt not that the landlord +can inform us." On this he rang the bell, and a fellow answered, to whom +I put the same question.</p> + +<p>"What would you have?" he asked.</p> + +<p>I thought of the master, and I ordered a cold leg of pork to be washed +down with tea and beer.</p> + +<p>"Did you say tea <i>and</i> beer?" asked the landlord.</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"For twenty-five years have I been in business," said the landlord, "and +never before have I been asked for tea and beer."</p> + +<p>"The gentleman is joking," said the man with the shining coat.</p> + +<p>"Or else——" said the elderly man in the corner.</p> + +<p>"Or what, sir?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said he—"nothing." There was something very strange in this +man in the corner—him to whom I had spoken of Dafydd-ap-Gwilyn.</p> + +<p>"Then you are joking," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>I asked him if he had read the works of my master, George Borrow. He +said that he had not. I told him that in those five volumes he would +not, from cover to cover, find one trace of any sort of a joke. He would +also find that my master drank tea and beer together. Now it happens +that about tea I have read nothing either in the sagas or in the bardic +cnylynions, but, whilst the landlord had departed to prepare my meal, I +recited to the company those Icelandic stanzas which praise the beer of +Gunnar, the long-haired son of Harold the Bear. Then, lest the language +should be unknown to some of them, I recited my own translation, ending +with the line—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If the beer be small, then let the mug be large."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I then asked the company whether they went to church or to chapel. The +question surprised them, and especially the strange man in the corner, +upon whom I now fixed my eye. I had read his secret, and as I looked at +him he tried to shrink behind the clock-case.</p> + +<p>"The church or the chapel?" I asked him.</p> + +<p>"The church," he gasped.</p> + +<p>"<i>Which</i> church?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He shrank farther behind the clock. "I have never been so questioned," +he cried.</p> + +<p>I showed him that I knew his secret. "Rome was not built in a day," said +I.</p> + +<p>"He! He!" he cried. Then, as I turned away, he put his head from behind +the clock-case, and tapped his forehead with his fore-finger. So also +did the man with the shiny coat, who stood before the empty fireplace.</p> + +<p>Having eaten the cold leg of pork—where is there a better dish, save +only boiled mutton with capers?—and having drunk both the tea and the +beer, I told the company that such a meal had been called "to box Harry" +by the master, who had observed it to be in great favour with commercial +gentlemen out of Liverpool. With this information and a stanza or two +from Lopez de Vega I left the Inn of the Rose and Crown behind me, +having first paid my reckoning. At the door the landlord asked me for my +name and address.</p> + +<p>"And why?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Lest there should be inquiry for you," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"But why should they enquire for me?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, who knows?" said the landlord, musing. And so I left him at the +door of the Inn of the Rose and Crown, whence came, I observed, a great +tumult of laughter. "Assuredly," thought I, "Rome was not built in a +day."</p> + +<p>Having walked down the main street of Swinehurst, which, as I have +observed, consists of half-timbered buildings in the ancient style, I +came out upon the country road, and proceeded to look for those wayside +adventures, which are, according to the master, as thick as blackberries +for those who seek them upon an English highway. I had already received +some boxing lessons before leaving London, so it seemed to me that if I +should chance to meet some traveller whose size and age seemed such as +to encourage the venture, I would ask him to strip off his coat and +settle any differences which we could find in the old English fashion. I +waited, therefore, by a stile for any one who should chance to pass, and +it was while I stood there that the screaming horror came upon me, even +as it came upon the master in the dingle. I gripped the bar of the +stile, which was of good British oak. Oh, who can tell the terrors of +the screaming horror! That was what I thought as I grasped the oaken bar +of the stile. Was it the beer—or was it the tea? Or was it that the +landlord was right and that other, the man with the black, shiny coat, +he who had answered the sign of the strange man in the corner? But the +master drank tea with beer. Yes, but the master also had the screaming +horror. All this I thought as I grasped the bar of British oak, which +was the top of the stile. For half an hour the horror was upon me. Then +it passed, and I was left feeling very weak and still grasping the oaken +bar.</p> + +<p>I had not moved from the stile, where I had been seized by the screaming +horror, when I heard the sound of steps behind me, and turning round I +perceived that a pathway led across the field upon the farther side of +the stile. A woman was coming towards me along this pathway, and it was +evident to me that she was one of those gipsy Rias, of whom the master +has said so much. Looking beyond her, I could see the smoke of a fire +from a small dingle, which showed where her tribe were camping. The +woman herself was of a moderate height, neither tall nor short, with a +face which was much sunburned and freckled. I must confess that she was +not beautiful, but I do not think that any one, save the master, has +found very beautiful women walking about upon the high-roads of England. +Such as she was I must make the best of her, and well I knew how to +address her, for many times had I admired the mixture of politeness and +audacity which should be used in such a case. Therefore, when the woman +had come to the stile, I held out my hand and helped her over.</p> + +<p>"What says the Spanish poet Calderon?" said I. "I doubt not that you +have read the couplet which has been thus Englished:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Oh, maiden, may I humbly pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I may help you on your way.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The woman blushed, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Where," I asked, "are the Romany chals and the Romany chis?"</p> + +<p>She turned her head away and was silent.</p> + +<p>"Though I am a gorgio," said I, "I know something of the Romany lil," +and to prove it I sang the stanza—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Coliko, coliko saulo wer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apopli to the farming ker<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will wel and mang him mullo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will wel and mang his truppo."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The girl laughed, but said nothing. It appeared to me from her +appearance that she might be one of those who make a living at telling +fortunes or "dukkering," as the master calls it, at racecourses and +other gatherings of the sort.</p> + +<p>"Do you dukker?" I asked.</p> + +<p>She slapped me on the arm. "Well, you <i>are</i> a pot of ginger!" said she.</p> + +<p>I was pleased at the slap, for it put me in mind of the peerless Belle. +"You can use Long Melford," said I, an expression which, with the +master, meant fighting.</p> + +<p>"Get along with your sauce!" said she, and struck me again.</p> + +<p>"You are a very fine young woman," said I, "and remind me of Grunelda, +the daughter of Hjalmar, who stole the golden bowl from the King of the +Islands."</p> + +<p>She seemed annoyed at this. "You keep a civil tongue, young man," said +she.</p> + +<p>"I meant no harm, Belle. I was but comparing you to one of whom the saga +says her eyes were like the shine of sun upon icebergs."</p> + +<p>This seemed to please her, for she smiled. "My name ain't Belle," she +said at last.</p> + +<p>"What is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Henrietta."</p> + +<p>"The name of a queen," I said aloud.</p> + +<p>"Go on," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"Of Charles's queen," said I, "of whom Waller the poet (for the English +also have their poets, though in this respect far inferior to the +Basques)—of whom, I say, Waller the poet said:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'That she was Queen was the Creator's act,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Belated man could but endorse the fact.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I say!" cried the girl. "How you do go on!"</p> + +<p>"So now," said I, "since I have shown you that you are a queen you will +surely give me a choomer"—this being a kiss in Romany talk.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you one on the ear-hole," she cried.</p> + +<p>"Then I will wrestle with you," said I. "If you should chance to put me +down, I will do penance by teaching you the Armenian alphabet—the very +word alphabet, as you will perceive, shows us that our letters came from +Greece. If, on the other hand, I should chance to put you down, you will +give me a choomer."</p> + +<p>I had got so far, and she was climbing the stile with some pretence of +getting away from me, when there came a van along the road, belonging, +as I discovered, to a baker in Swinehurst. The horse, which was of a +brown colour, was such as is bred in the New Forest, being somewhat +under fifteen hands and of a hairy, ill-kempt variety. As I know less +than the master about horses, I will say no more of this horse, save to +repeat that its colour was brown—nor indeed had the horse nor the +horse's colour anything to do with my narrative. I might add, however, +that it could either be taken as a small horse or as a large pony, being +somewhat tall for the one, but undersized for the other. I have now said +enough about this horse, which has nothing to do with my story, and I +will turn my attention to the driver.</p> + +<p>This was a man with a broad, florid face and brown side-whiskers. He was +of a stout build and had rounded shoulders, with a small mole of a +reddish colour over his left eyebrow. His jacket was of velveteen, and +he had large, iron-shod boots, which were perched upon the splashboard +in front of him. He pulled up the van as he came up to the stile near +which I was standing with the maiden who had come from the dingle, and +in a civil fashion he asked me if I could oblige him with a light for +his pipe. Then, as I drew a matchbox from my pocket, he threw his reins +over the splashboard, and removing his large, iron-shod boots he +descended on to the road. He was a burly man, but inclined to fat and +scant of breath. It seemed to me that it was a chance for one of those +wayside boxing adventures which were so common in the olden times. It +was my intention that I should fight the man, and that the maiden from +the dingle standing by me should tell me when to use my right or my +left, as the case might be, picking me up also in case I should be so +unfortunate as to be knocked down by the man with the iron-shod boots +and the small mole of a reddish colour over his left eyebrow.</p> + +<p>"Do you use Long Melford?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He looked at me in some surprise, and said that any mixture was good +enough for him.</p> + +<p>"By Long Melford," said I, "I do not mean, as you seem to think, some +form of tobacco, but I mean that art and science of boxing which was +held in such high esteem by our ancestors, that some famous professors +of it, such as the great Gully, have been elected to the highest offices +of the State. There were men of the highest character amongst the +bruisers of England, of whom I would particularly mention Tom of +Hereford, better known as Tom Spring, though his father's name, as I +have been given to understand, was Winter. This, however, has nothing to +do with the matter in hand, which is that you must fight me."</p> + +<p>The man with the florid face seemed very much surprised at my words, so +that I cannot think that adventures of this sort were as common as I had +been led by the master to expect.</p> + +<p>"Fight!" said he. "What about?"</p> + +<p>"It is a good old English custom," said I, "by which we may determine +which is the better man."</p> + +<p>"I've nothing against you," said he.</p> + +<p>"Nor I against you," I answered. "So that we will fight for love, which +was an expression much used in olden days. It is narrated by Harold +Sygvynson that among the Danes it was usual to do so even with +battle-axes, as is told in his second set of runes. Therefore you will +take off your coat and fight." As I spoke, I stripped off my own.</p> + +<p>The man's face was less florid than before. "I'm not going to fight," +said he.</p> + +<p>"Indeed you are," I answered, "and this young woman will doubtless do +you the service to hold your coat."</p> + +<p>"You're clean balmy," said Henrietta.</p> + +<p>"Besides," said I, "if you will not fight me for love, perhaps you will +fight me for this," and I held out a sovereign. "Will you hold his +coat?" I said to Henrietta.</p> + +<p>"I'll hold the thick 'un," said she.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't," said the man, and put the sovereign into the pocket of +his trousers, which were of a corduroy material. "Now," said he, "what +am I do to earn this?"</p> + +<p>"Fight," said I.</p> + +<p>"How do you do it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Put up your hands," I answered.</p> + +<p>He put them up as I had said, and stood there in a sheepish manner with +no idea of anything further. It seemed to me that if I could make him +angry he would do better, so I knocked off his hat, which was black and +hard, of the kind which is called billy-cock.</p> + +<p>"Heh, guv'nor!" he cried, "what are you up to?"</p> + +<p>"That was to make you angry," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am angry," said he.</p> + +<p>"Then here is your hat," said I, "and afterwards we shall fight."</p> + +<p>I turned as I spoke to pick up his hat, which had rolled behind where I +was standing. As I stooped to reach it, I received such a blow that I +could neither rise erect nor yet sit down. This blow which I received as +I stooped for his billy-cock hat was not from his fist, but from his +iron-shod boot, the same which I had observed upon the splashboard. +Being unable either to rise erect or yet to sit down, I leaned upon the +oaken bar of the stile and groaned loudly on account of the pain of the +blow which I had received. Even the screaming horror had given me less +pain than this blow from the iron-shod boot. When at last I was able to +stand erect, I found that the florid-faced man had driven away with his +cart, which could no longer be seen. The maiden from the dingle was +standing at the other side of the stile, and a ragged man was running +across the field from the direction of the fire.</p> + +<p>"Why did you not warn me, Henrietta?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I hadn't time," said she. "Why were you such a chump as to turn your +back on him like that?"</p> + +<p>The ragged man had reached us, where I stood talking to Henrietta by the +stile. I will not try to write his conversation as he said it, because I +have observed that the master never condescends to dialect, but prefers +by a word introduced here and there to show the fashion of a man's +speech. I will only say that the man from the dingle spoke as did the +Anglo-Saxons who were wont, as is clearly shown by the venerable Bede, +to call their leaders 'Enjist and 'Orsa, two words which in their proper +meaning signify a horse and a mare.</p> + +<p>"What did he hit you for?" asked the man from the dingle. He was +exceedingly ragged, with a powerful frame, a lean brown face, and an +oaken cudgel in his hand. His voice was very hoarse and rough, as is the +case with those who live in the open air. "The bloke hit you," said he. +"What did the bloke hit you for?"</p> + +<p>"He asked him to," said Henrietta.</p> + +<p>"Asked him to—asked him what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, he asked him to hit him. Gave him a thick 'un to do it."</p> + +<p>The ragged man seemed surprised. "See here, guv'nor," said he. "If +you're collectin', I could let you have one half-price."</p> + +<p>"He took me unawares," said I.</p> + +<p>"What else would the bloke do when you bashed his hat?" said the maiden +from the dingle.</p> + +<p>By this time I was able to straighten myself up by the aid of the oaken +bar which formed the top of the stile. Having quoted a few lines of the +Chinese poet Lo-tun-an to the effect that, however hard a knock might +be, it might always conceivably be harder, I looked about for my coat, +but could by no means find it.</p> + +<p>"Henrietta," I said, "what have you done with my coat?"</p> + +<p>"Look here, guv'nor," said the man from the dingle, "not so much +Henrietta, if it's the same to you. This woman's my wife. Who are you to +call her Henrietta?"</p> + +<p>I assured the man from the dingle that I had meant no disrespect to his +wife. "I had thought she was a mort," said I; "but the ria of a Romany +chal is always sacred to me."</p> + +<p>"Clean balmy," said the woman.</p> + +<p>"Some other day," said I, "I may visit you in your camp in the dingle +and read you the master's book about the Romanys."</p> + +<p>"What's Romanys?" asked the man.</p> + +<p><i>Myself.</i> Romanys are gipsies.</p> + +<p><i>The Man.</i> We ain't gipsies.</p> + +<p><i>Myself.</i> What are you then?</p> + +<p><i>The Man.</i> We are hoppers.</p> + +<p><i>Myself</i> (to Henrietta). Then how did you understand all I have said to +you about gipsies?</p> + +<p><i>Henrietta.</i> I didn't.</p> + +<p>I again asked for my coat, but it was clear now that before offering to +fight the florid-faced man with the mole over his left eyebrow I must +have hung my coat upon the splashboard of his van. I therefore recited a +verse from Ferideddin-Atar, the Persian poet, which signifies that it is +more important to preserve your skin than your clothes, and bidding +farewell to the man from the dingle and his wife I returned into the old +English village of Swinehurst, where I was able to buy a second-hand +coat, which enabled me to make my way to the station, where I should +start for London. I could not but remark with some surprise that I was +followed to the station by many of the villagers, together with the man +with the shiny coat, and that other, the strange man, he who had slunk +behind the clock-case. From time to time I turned and approached them, +hoping to fall into conversation with them; but as I did so they would +break and hasten down the road. Only the village constable came on, and +he walked by my side and listened while I told him the history of +Hunyadi Janos and the events which occurred during the wars between that +hero, known also as Corvinus or the crow-like, and Mahommed the second, +he who captured Constantinople, better known as Byzantium, before the +Christian epoch. Together with the constable I entered the station, and +seating myself in a carriage I took paper from my pocket and I began to +write upon the paper all that had occurred to me, in order that I might +show that it was not easy in these days to follow the example of the +master. As I wrote, I heard the constable talk to the station-master, a +stout, middle-sized man with a red neck-tie, and tell him of my own +adventures in the old English village of Swinehurst.</p> + +<p>"He is a gentleman too," said the constable, "and I doubt not that he +lives in a big house in London town."</p> + +<p>"A very big house if every man had his rights," said the station-master, +and waving his hand he signalled that the train should proceed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL</h3> + + +<p>On the fourth day of March, in the year 1867, I being at that time in my +five-and-twentieth year, I wrote down the following words in my +note-book—the result of much mental perturbation and conflict:</p> + +<p>"The solar system, amidst a countless number of other systems as large +as itself, rolls ever silently through space in the direction of the +constellation of Hercules. The great spheres of which it is composed +spin and spin through the eternal void ceaselessly and noiselessly. Of +these one of the smallest and most insignificant is that conglomeration +of solid and of liquid particles which we have named the earth. It +whirls onwards now as it has done before my birth, and will do after my +death—a revolving mystery, coming none know whence, and going none know +whither. Upon the outer crust of this moving mass crawl many mites, of +whom I, John M'Vittie, am one, helpless, impotent, being dragged +aimlessly through space. Yet such is the state of things amongst us that +the little energy and glimmering of reason which I possess is entirely +taken up with the labours which are necessary in order to procure +certain metallic discs, wherewith I may purchase the chemical elements +necessary to build up my ever-wasting tissues, and keep a roof over me +to shelter me from the inclemency of the weather. I thus have no thought +to expend upon the vital questions which surround me on every side. Yet, +miserable entity as I am, I can still at times feel some degree of +happiness, and am even—save the mark!—puffed up occasionally with a +sense of my own importance."</p> + +<p>These words, as I have said, I wrote down in my note-book, and they +reflected accurately the thoughts which I found rooted far down in my +soul, ever present and unaffected by the passing emotions of the hour. +At last, however, came a time when my uncle, M'Vittie of Glencairn, +died—the same who was at one time chairman of committees of the House +of Commons. He divided his great wealth among his many nephews, and I +found myself with sufficient to provide amply for my wants during the +remainder of my life, and became at the same time the owner of a bleak +tract of land upon the coast of Caithness, which I think the old man +must have bestowed upon me in derision, for it was sandy and valueless, +and he had ever a grim sense of humour. Up to this time I had been an +attorney in a midland town in England. Now I saw that I could put my +thoughts into effect, and, leaving all petty and sordid aims, could +elevate my mind by the study of the secrets of nature. My departure from +my English home was somewhat accelerated by the fact that I had nearly +slain a man in a quarrel, for my temper was fiery, and I was apt to +forget my own strength when enraged. There was no legal action taken in +the matter, but the papers yelped at me, and folk looked askance when I +met them. It ended by my cursing them and their vile, smoke-polluted +town, and hurrying to my northern possession, where I might at last find +peace and an opportunity for solitary study and contemplation. I +borrowed from my capital before I went, and so was able to take with me +a choice collection of the most modern philosophical instruments and +books, together with chemicals and such other things as I might need in +my retirement.</p> + +<p>The land which I had inherited was a narrow strip, consisting mostly of +sand, and extending for rather over two miles round the coast of Mansie +Bay, in Caithness. Upon this strip there had been a rambling, grey-stone +building—when erected or wherefore none could tell me—and this I had +repaired, so that it made a dwelling quite good enough for one of my +simple tastes. One room was my laboratory, another my sitting-room, and +in a third, just under the sloping roof, I slung the hammock in which I +always slept. There were three other rooms, but I left them vacant, +except one which was given over to the old crone who kept house for me. +Save the Youngs and the M'Leods, who were fisher-folk living round at +the other side of Fergus Ness, there were no other people for many miles +in each direction. In front of the house was the great bay, behind it +were two long barren hills, capped by other loftier ones beyond. There +was a glen between the hills, and when the wind was from the land it +used to sweep down this with a melancholy sough and whisper among the +branches of the fir-trees beneath my attic window.</p> + +<p>I dislike my fellow-mortals. Justice compels me to add that they appear +for the most part to dislike me. I hate their little crawling ways, +their conventionalities, their deceits, their narrow rights and wrongs. +They take offence at my brusque outspokenness, my disregard for their +social laws, my impatience of all constraint. Among my books and my +drugs in my lonely den at Mansie I could let the great drove of the +human race pass onwards with their politics and inventions and +tittle-tattle, and I remained behind stagnant and happy. Not stagnant +either, for I was working in my own little groove, and making progress. +I have reason to believe that Dalton's atomic theory is founded upon +error, and I know that mercury is not an element.</p> + +<p>During the day I was busy with my distillations and analyses. Often I +forgot my meals, and when old Madge summoned me to my tea I found my +dinner lying untouched upon the table. At night I read Bacon, Descartes, +Spinoza, Kant—all those who have pried into what is unknowable. They +are all fruitless and empty, barren of result, but prodigal of +polysyllables, reminding me of men who, while digging for gold, have +turned up many worms, and then exhibit then exultantly as being what +they sought. At times a restless spirit would come upon me, and I would +walk thirty and forty miles without rest or breaking fast. On these +occasions, when I used to stalk through the country villages, gaunt, +unshaven, and dishevelled, the mothers would rush into the road and drag +their children indoors, and the rustics would swarm out of their +pot-houses to gaze at me. I believe that I was known far and wide as the +"mad laird o' Mansie." It was rarely, however, that I made these raids +into the country, for I usually took my exercise upon my own beach, +where I soothed my spirit with strong black tobacco, and made the ocean +my friend and my confidant.</p> + +<p>What companion is there like the great restless, throbbing sea? What +human mood is there which it does not match and sympathise with? There +are none so gay but that they may feel gayer when they listen to its +merry turmoil, and see the long green surges racing in, with the glint +of the sunbeams in their sparkling crests. But when the grey waves toss +their heads in anger, and the wind screams above them, goading them on +to madder and more tumultuous efforts, then the darkest-minded of men +feels that there is a melancholy principle in Nature which is as gloomy +as his own thoughts. When it was calm in the Bay of Mansie the surface +would be as clear and bright as a sheet of silver, broken only at one +spot some little way from the shore, where a long black line projected +out of the water looking like the jagged back of some sleeping monster. +This was the top of the dangerous ridge of rocks known to the fishermen +as the "ragged reef o' Mansie." When the wind blew from the east the +waves would break upon it like thunder, and the spray would be tossed +far over my house and up to the hills behind. The bay itself was a bold +and noble one, but too much exposed to the northern and eastern gales, +and too much dreaded for its reef, to be much used by mariners. There +was something of romance about this lonely spot. I have lain in my boat +upon a calm day, and peering over the edge I have seen far down the +flickering, ghostly forms of great fish—fish, as it seemed to me, such +as naturalist never knew, and which my imagination transformed into the +genii of that desolate bay. Once, as I stood by the brink of the waters +upon a quiet night, a great cry, as of a woman in hopeless grief, rose +from the bosom of the deep, and swelled out upon the still air, now +sinking and now rising, for a space of thirty seconds. This I heard with +my own ears.</p> + +<p>In this strange spot, with the eternal hills behind me and the eternal +sea in front, I worked and brooded for more than two years unpestered by +my fellow men. By degrees I had trained my old servant into habits of +silence, so that she now rarely opened her lips, though I doubt not that +when twice a year she visited her relations in Wick, her tongue during +those few days made up for its enforced rest. I had come almost to +forget that I was a member of the human family, and to live entirely +with the dead whose books I pored over, when a sudden incident occurred +which threw all my thoughts into a new channel.</p> + +<p>Three rough days in June had been succeeded by one calm and peaceful +one. There was not a breath of air that evening. The sun sank down in +the west behind a line of purple clouds, and the smooth surface of the +bay was gashed with scarlet streaks. Along the beach the pools left by +the tide showed up like gouts of blood against the yellow sand, as if +some wounded giant had toilfully passed that way, and had left these red +traces of his grievous hurt behind him. As the darkness closed in, +certain ragged clouds which had lain low on the eastern horizon +coalesced and formed a great irregular cumulus. The glass was still low, +and I knew that there was mischief brewing. About nine o'clock a dull +moaning sound came up from the sea, as from a creature, who, much +harassed, learns that the hour of suffering has come round again. At ten +a sharp breeze sprang up from the eastward. At eleven it had increased +to a gale, and by midnight the most furious storm was raging which I +ever remember upon that weather-beaten coast.</p> + +<p>As I went to bed the shingle and seaweed were pattering up against my +attic window, and the wind was screaming as though every gust were a +lost soul. By that time the sounds of the tempest had become a lullaby +to me. I knew that the grey walls of the old house would buffet it out, +and for what occurred in the world outside I had small concern. Old +Madge was usually as callous to such things as I was myself. It was a +surprise to me when, about three in the morning, I was awoke by the +sound of a great knocking at my door and excited cries in the wheezy +voice of my housekeeper. I sprang out of my hammock, and roughly +demanded of her what was the matter.</p> + +<p>"Eh, maister, maister!" she screamed in her hateful dialect. "Come doun, +mun; come doun! There's a muckle ship gaun ashore on the reef, and the +puir folks are a' yammerin' and ca'in' for help—and I doobt they'll a' +be drooned. Oh, Maister M'Vittie, come doun!"</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, you hag!" I shouted back in a passion. "What is it to +you whether they are drowned or not? Get back to your bed and leave me +alone." I turned in again and drew the blankets over me. "Those men out +there," I said to myself, "have already gone through half the horrors of +death. If they be saved they will but have to go through the same once +more in the space of a few brief years. It is best therefore that they +should pass away now, since they have suffered that anticipation which +is more than the pain of dissolution." With this thought in my mind I +endeavoured to compose myself to sleep once more, for that philosophy +which had taught me to consider death as a small and trivial incident in +man's eternal and ever-changing career, had also broken me of much +curiosity concerning worldly matters. On this occasion I found, however, +that the old leaven still fermented strongly in my soul. I tossed from +side to side for some minutes endeavouring to beat down the impulses of +the moment by the rules of conduct which I had framed during months of +thought. Then I heard a dull roar amid the wild shriek of the gale, and +I knew that it was the sound of a signal-gun. Driven by an +uncontrollable impulse, I rose, dressed, and having lit my pipe, walked +out on to the beach.</p> + +<p>It was pitch dark when I came outside, and the wind blew with such +violence that I had to put my shoulder against it and push my way along +the shingle. My face pringled and smarted with the sting of the gravel +which was blown against it, and the red ashes of my pipe streamed away +behind me, dancing fantastically through the darkness. I went down to +where the great waves were thundering in, and shading my eyes with my +hands to keep off the salt spray, I peered out to sea. I could +distinguish nothing, and yet it seemed to me that shouts and great +inarticulate cries were borne to me by the blasts. Suddenly as I gazed I +made out the glint of a light, and then the whole bay and the beach were +lit up in a moment by a vivid blue glare. They were burning a coloured +signal-light on board of the vessel. There she lay on her beam ends +right in the centre of the jagged reef, hurled over to such an angle +that I could see all the planking of her deck. She was a large +two-masted schooner, of foreign rig, and lay perhaps a hundred and +eighty or two hundred yards from the shore. Every spar and rope and +writhing piece of cordage showed up hard and clear under the livid light +which sputtered and flickered from the highest portion of the +forecastle. Beyond the doomed ship out of the great darkness came the +long rolling lines of black waves, never ending, never tiring, with a +petulant tuft of foam here and there upon their crests. Each as it +reached the broad circle of unnatural light appeared to gather strength +and volume, and to hurry on more impetuously until, with a roar and a +jarring crash, it sprang upon its victim. Clinging to the weather +shrouds I could distinctly see some ten or twelve frightened seamen, +who, when their light revealed my presence, turned their white faces +towards me and waved their hands imploringly. I felt my gorge rise +against these poor cowering worms. Why should they presume to shirk the +narrow pathway along which all that is great and noble among mankind has +travelled? There was one there who interested me more than they. He was +a tall man, who stood apart from the others, balancing himself upon the +swaying wreck as though he disdained to cling to rope or bulwark. His +hands were clasped behind his back and his head was sunk upon his +breast, but even in that despondent attitude there was a litheness and +decision in his pose and in every motion which marked him as a man +little likely to yield to despair. Indeed, I could see by his occasional +rapid glances up and down and all around him that he was weighing every +chance of safety, but though he often gazed across the raging surf to +where he could see my dark figure upon the beach, his self-respect or +some other reason forbade him from imploring my help in any way. He +stood, dark, silent, and inscrutable, looking down on the black sea, and +waiting for whatever fortune Fate might send him.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that that problem would very soon be settled. As I +looked, an enormous billow, topping all the others, and coming after +them, like a driver following a flock, swept over the vessel. Her +foremast snapped short off, and the men who clung to the shrouds were +brushed away like a swarm of flies. With a rending, riving sound the +ship began to split in two, where the sharp back of the Mansie reef was +sawing into her keel. The solitary man upon the forecastle ran rapidly +across the deck and seized hold of a white bundle which I had already +observed but failed to make out. As he lifted it up the light fell upon +it, and I saw that the object was a woman, with a spar lashed across her +body and under her arms in such a way that her head should always rise +above water. He bore her tenderly to the side and seemed to speak for a +minute or so to her, as though explaining the impossibility of remaining +upon the ship. Her answer was a singular one. I saw her deliberately +raise her hand and strike him across the face with it. He appeared to be +silenced for a moment or so by this, but he addressed her again, +directing her, as far as I could gather from his motions, how she should +behave when in the water. She shrank away from him, but he caught her in +his arms. He stooped over her for a moment and seemed to press his lips +against her forehead. Then a great wave came welling up against the side +of the breaking vessel, and leaning over he placed her upon the summit +of it as gently as a child might be committed to its cradle. I saw her +white dress flickering among the foam on the crest of the dark billow, +and then the light sank gradually lower, and the riven ship and its +lonely occupant were hidden from my eyes.</p> + +<p>As I watched those things my manhood overcame my philosophy, and I felt +a frantic impulse to be up and doing. I threw my cynicism to one side as +a garment which I might don again at leisure, and I rushed wildly to my +boat and my sculls. She was a leaky tub, but what then? Was I, who had +cast many a wistful, doubtful glance at my opium bottle, to begin now to +weigh chances and to cavil at danger? I dragged her down to the sea with +the strength of a maniac and sprang in. For a moment or two it was a +question whether she could live among the boiling surge, but a dozen +frantic strokes took me through it, half full of water but still afloat. +I was out on the unbroken waves now, at one time climbing, climbing up +the broad black breast of one, then sinking down, down on the other +side, until looking up I could see the gleam of the foam all around me +against the dark heavens. Far behind me I could hear the wild wailings +of old Madge, who, seeing me start, thought no doubt that my madness had +come to a climax. As I rowed I peered over my shoulder, until at last on +the belly of a great wave which was sweeping towards me I distinguished +the vague white outline of the woman. Stooping over, I seized her as she +swept by me, and with an effort lifted her, all sodden with water, into +the boat. There was no need to row back, for the next billow carried us +in and threw us upon the beach. I dragged the boat out of danger, and +then lifting up the woman I carried her to the house, followed by my +housekeeper, loud with congratulation and praise.</p> + +<p>Now that I had done this thing a reaction set in upon me. I felt that my +burden lived, for I heard the faint beat of her heart as I pressed my +ear against her side in carrying her. Knowing this, I threw her down +beside the fire which Madge had lit, with as little sympathy as though +she had been a bundle of fagots. I never glanced at her to see if she +were fair or no. For many years I had cared little for the face of a +woman. As I lay in my hammock upstairs, however, I heard the old woman +as she chafed the warmth back into her, crooning a chorus of, "Eh, the +puir lassie! Eh, the bonnie lassie!" from which I gathered that this +piece of jetsam was both young and comely.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The morning after the gale was peaceful and sunny. As I walked along the +long sweep of sand I could hear the panting of the sea. It was heaving +and swirling about the reef, but along the shore it rippled in gently +enough. There was no sign of the schooner, nor was there any wreckage +upon the beach, which did not surprise me, as I knew there was a great +undertow in those waters. A couple of broad-winged gulls were hovering +and skimming over the scene of the shipwreck, as though many strange +things were visible to them beneath the waves. At times I could hear +their raucous voices as they spoke to one another of what they saw.</p> + +<p>When I came back from my walk the woman was waiting at the door for me. +I began to wish when I saw her that I had never saved her, for here was +an end of my privacy. She was very young—at the most nineteen, with a +pale somewhat refined face, yellow hair, merry blue eyes, and shining +teeth. Her beauty was of an ethereal type. She looked so white and light +and fragile that she might have been the spirit of that storm-foam from +out of which I plucked her. She had wreathed some of Madge's garments +round her in a way which was quaint and not unbecoming. As I strode +heavily up the pathway, she put out her hands with a pretty, child-like +gesture, and ran down towards me, meaning, as I surmise, to thank me for +having saved her, but I put her aside with a wave of my hand and passed +her. At this she seemed somewhat hurt, and the tears sprang into her +eyes, but she followed me into the sitting-room and watched me +wistfully. "What country do you come from?" I asked her suddenly.</p> + +<p>She smiled when I spoke, but shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Français?" I asked. "Deutsch?" "Espagnol?"—each time she shook her +head, and then she rippled off into a long statement in some tongue of +which I could not understand one word.</p> + +<p>After breakfast was over, however, I got a clue to her nationality. +Passing along the beach once more, I saw that in a cleft of the ridge a +piece of wood had been jammed. I rowed out to it in my boat, and brought +it ashore. It was part of the sternpost of a boat, and on it, or rather +on the piece of wood attached to it, was the word "Archangel," painted +in strange, quaint lettering. "So," I thought, as I paddled slowly back, +"this pale damsel is a Russian. A fit subject for the White Czar and a +proper dweller on the shores of the White Sea!" It seemed to me strange +that one of her apparent refinement should perform so long a journey in +so frail a craft. When I came back into the house, I pronounced the word +"Archangel" several times in different intonations, but she did not +appear to recognise it.</p> + +<p>I shut myself up in the laboratory all the morning, continuing a +research which I was making upon the nature of the allotropic forms of +carbon and of sulphur. When I came out at mid-day for some food she was +sitting, by the table with a needle and thread, mending some rents in +her clothes, which were now dry. I resented her continued presence, but +I could not turn her out on the beach to shift for herself. Presently +she presented a new phase of her character. Pointing to herself and then +to the scene of the shipwreck, she held up one finger, by which I +understood her to be asking whether she was the only one saved. I nodded +my head to indicate that she was. On this she sprang out of her chair +with a cry of great joy, and holding the garment which she was mending +over her head, and swaying it from side to side with the motion of her +body, she danced as lightly as a feather all round the room, and then +out through the open door into the sunshine. As she whirled round she +sang in a plaintive shrill voice some uncouth barbarous chant, +expressive of exultation. I called out to her, "Come in, you young +fiend, come in and be silent!" but she went on with her dance. Then she +suddenly ran towards me, and catching my hand before I could pluck it +away, she kissed it. While we were at dinner she spied one of my +pencils, and taking it up she wrote the two words "Sophie Ramusine" upon +a piece of paper, and then pointed to herself as a sign that that was +her name. She handed the pencil to me, evidently expecting that I would +be equally communicative, but I put it in my pocket as a sign that I +wished to hold no intercourse with her.</p> + +<p>Every moment of my life now I regretted the unguarded precipitancy with +which I had saved this woman. What was it to me whether she had lived or +died? I was no young, hot-headed youth to do such things. It was bad +enough to be compelled to have Madge in the house, but she was old and +ugly, and could be ignored. This one was young and lively, and so +fashioned as to divert attention from graver things. Where could I send +her, and what could I do with her? If I sent information to Wick it +would mean that officials and others would come to me and pry, and peep, +and chatter—a hateful thought. It was better to endure her presence +than that.</p> + +<p>I soon found that there were fresh troubles in store for me. There is no +place safe from the swarming, restless race of which I am a member. In +the evening, when the sun was dipping down behind the hills, casting +them into dark shadow, but gilding the sands and casting a great glory +over the sea, I went, as is my custom, for a stroll along the beach. +Sometimes on these occasions I took my book with me. I did so on this +night, and stretching myself upon a sand-dune I composed myself to read. +As I lay there I suddenly became aware of a shadow which interposed +itself between the sun and myself. Looking round, I saw to my great +surprise a very tall, powerful man, who was standing a few yards off, +and who, instead of looking at me, was ignoring my existence completely, +and was gazing over my head with a stern set face at the bay and the +black line of the Mansie reef. His complexion was dark, with black hair, +and short, curling beard, a hawk-like nose, and golden earrings in his +ears—the general effect being wild and somewhat noble. He wore a faded +velveteen jacket, a red-flannel shirt, and high sea boots, coming +half-way up his thighs. I recognised him at a glance as being the same +man who had been left on the wreck the night before.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" I said, in an aggrieved voice. "You got ashore all right, +then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, in good English. "It was no doing of mine. The waves +threw me up. I wish to God I had been allowed to drown!" There was a +slight foreign lisp in his accent which was rather pleasing. "Two good +fishermen, who live round yonder point, pulled me out and cared for me; +yet I could not honestly thank them for it."</p> + +<p>"Ho! ho!" thought I, "here is a man of my own kidney."</p> + +<p>"Why do you wish to be drowned?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Because," he cried, throwing out his long arms with a passionate, +despairing gesture, "there—there in that blue smiling bay, lies my +soul, my treasure—everything that I loved and lived for."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," I said. "People are ruined every day, but there's no use +making a fuss about it. Let me inform you that this ground on which you +walk is my ground, and that the sooner you take yourself off it the +better pleased I shall be. One of you is quite trouble enough."</p> + +<p>"One of us?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yes—if you could take her off with you I should be still more +grateful."</p> + +<p>He gazed at me for a moment as if hardly able to realise what I said, +and then with a wild cry he ran away from me with prodigious speed and +raced along the sands towards my house. Never before or since have I +seen a human being run so fast. I followed as rapidly as I could, +furious at this threatened invasion, but long before I reached the house +he had disappeared through the open door. I heard a great scream from +the inside, and as I came nearer the sound of a man's bass voice +speaking rapidly and loudly. When I looked in, the girl, Sophie +Ramusine, was crouching in a corner, cowering away, with fear and +loathing expressed on her averted face and in every line of her +shrinking form. The other, with his dark eyes flashing, and his +outstretched hands quivering with emotion, was pouring forth a torrent +of passionate pleading words. He made a step forward to her as I +entered, but she writhed still further away, and uttered a sharp cry +like that of a rabbit when the weasel has him by the throat.</p> + +<p>"Here!" I said, pulling him back from her. "This is a pretty to-do! What +do you mean? Do you think this is a wayside inn or place of public +accommodation?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir," he said, "excuse me. This woman is my wife, and I feared that +she was drowned. You have brought me back to life."</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" I asked roughly.</p> + +<p>"I am a man from Archangel," he said simply; "a Russian man."</p> + +<p>"What is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Ourganeff."</p> + +<p>"Ourganeff!—and hers is Sophie Ramusine. She is no wife of yours. She +has no ring."</p> + +<p>"We are man and wife in the sight of Heaven," he said solemnly, looking +upwards. "We are bound by higher laws than those of earth." As he spoke +the girl slipped behind me and caught me by the other hand, pressing it +as though beseeching my protection. "Give me up my wife, sir," he went +on. "Let me take her away from here."</p> + +<p>"Look here, you—whatever your name is," I said sternly; "I don't want +this wench here. I wish I had never seen her. If she died it would be no +grief to me. But as to handing her over to you, when it is clear she +fears and hates you, I won't do it. So now just clear your great body +out of this, and leave me to my books. I hope I may never look upon your +face again."</p> + +<p>"You won't give her up to me?" he said hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"I'll see you damned first!" I answered.</p> + +<p>"Suppose I take her," he cried, his dark face growing darker.</p> + +<p>All my tigerish blood flashed up in a moment. I picked up a billet of +wood from beside the fireplace. "Go," I said, in a low voice, "go quick, +or I may do you an injury." He looked at me irresolutely for a moment, +and then he left the house. He came back again in a moment, however, and +stood in the doorway looking in at us.</p> + +<p>"Have a heed what you do," he said. "The woman is mine, and I shall have +her. When it comes to blows, a Russian is as good a man as a Scotchman."</p> + +<p>"We shall see that," I cried, springing forward, but he was already +gone, and I could see his tall form moving away through the gathering +darkness.</p> + +<p>For a month or more after this things went smoothly with us. I never +spoke to the Russian girl, nor did she ever address me. Sometimes when I +was at work in my laboratory she would slip inside the door and sit +silently there watching me with her great eyes. At first this intrusion +annoyed me, but by degrees, finding that she made no attempt to distract +my attention, I suffered her to remain. Encouraged by this concession, +she gradually came to move the stool on which she sat nearer and nearer +to my table, until after gaining a little every day during some weeks, +she at last worked her way right up to me, and used to perch herself +beside me whenever I worked. In this position she used, still without +ever obtruding her presence in any way, to make herself very useful by +holding my pens, test-tubes, or bottles and handing me whatever I +wanted, with never-failing sagacity. By ignoring the fact of her being a +human being, and looking upon her as a useful automatic machine, I +accustomed myself to her presence so far as to miss her on the few +occasions when she was not at her post. I have a habit of talking aloud +to myself at times when I work, so as to fix my results better in my +mind. The girl must have had a surprising memory for sounds, for she +could always repeat the words which I let fall in this way, without, of +course, understanding in the least what they meant. I have often been +amused at hearing her discharge a volley of chemical equations and +algebraic symbols at old Madge, and then burst into a ringing laugh when +the crone would shake her head, under the impression, no doubt, that she +was being addressed in Russian.</p> + +<p>She never went more than a few yards from the house, and indeed never +put her foot over the threshold without looking carefully out of each +window in order to be sure that there was nobody about. By this I knew +that she suspected that her fellow-countryman was still in the +neighbourhood, and feared that he might attempt to carry her off. She +did something else which was significant. I had an old revolver with +some cartridges, which had been thrown away among the rubbish. She found +this one day, and at once proceeded to clean it and oil it. She hung it +up near the door, with the cartridges in a little bag beside it, and +whenever I went for a walk, she would take it down and insist upon my +carrying it with me. In my absence she would always bolt the door. Apart +from her apprehensions she seemed fairly happy, busying herself in +helping Madge when she was not attending upon me. She was wonderfully +nimble-fingered and natty in all domestic duties.</p> + +<p>It was not long before I discovered that her suspicions were well +founded, and that this man from Archangel was still lurking in the +vicinity. Being restless one night I rose and peered out of the window. +The weather was somewhat cloudy, and I could barely make out the line of +the sea, and the loom of my boat upon the beach. As I gazed, however, +and my eyes became accustomed to the obscurity, I became aware that +there was some other dark blur upon the sands, and that in front of my +very door, where certainly there had been nothing of the sort the +preceding night. As I stood at my diamond-paned lattice, still peering +and peeping to make out what this might be, a great bank of clouds +rolled slowly away from the face of the moon, and a flood of cold, clear +light was poured down upon the silent bay and the long sweep of its +desolate shores. Then I saw what this was which haunted my doorstep. It +was he, the Russian. He squatted there like a gigantic toad, with his +legs doubled under him in strange Mongolian fashion, and his eyes fixed +apparently upon the window of the room in which the young girl and the +housekeeper slept. The light fell upon his upturned face, and I saw once +more the hawk-like grace of his countenance, with the single +deeply-indented line of care upon his brow, and the protruding beard +which marks the passionate nature. My first impulse was to shoot him as +a trespasser, but, as I gazed, my resentment changed into pity and +contempt "Poor fool," I said to myself, "is it then possible that you, +whom I have seen looking open-eyed at present death, should have your +whole thoughts and ambitions centred upon this wretched slip of a +girl—a girl, too, who flies from you and hates you? Most women would +love you—were it but for that dark face and great handsome body of +yours—and yet you must needs hanker after the one in a thousand who +will have no traffic with you." As I returned to my bed I chuckled much +to myself over this thought. I knew that my bars were strong and my +bolts thick. It mattered little to me whether this strange man spent his +night at my door or a hundred leagues off, so long as he was gone by the +morning. As I expected, when I rose and went out, there was no sign of +him, nor had he left any trace of his midnight vigil.</p> + +<p>It was not long, however, before I saw him again. I had been out for a +row one morning, for my head was aching, partly from prolonged stooping, +and partly from the effects of a noxious drug which I had inhaled the +night before. I pulled along the coast some miles, and then, feeling +thirsty, I landed at a place where I knew that a fresh water stream +trickled down into the sea. This rivulet passed through my land, but the +mouth of it, where I found myself that day, was beyond my boundary line. +I felt somewhat taken aback when rising from the stream at which I had +slaked my thirst I found myself face to face with the Russian. I was as +much a trespasser now as he was, and I could see at a glance that he +knew it.</p> + +<p>"I wish to speak a few words to you," he said gravely.</p> + +<p>"Hurry up, then!" I answered, glancing at my watch. "I have no time to +listen to chatter."</p> + +<p>"Chatter!" he repeated angrily. "Ah, but there. You Scotch people are +strange men. Your face is hard and your words rough, but so are those of +the good fishermen with whom I stay, yet I find that beneath it all +there lie kind honest natures. No doubt you are kind and good, too, in +spite of your roughness."</p> + +<p>"In the name of the devil," I said, "say your say, and go your way. I am +weary of the sight of you."</p> + +<p>"Can I not soften you in any way?" he cried. "Ah, see—see here"—he +produced a small Grecian cross from inside his velvet jacket. "Look at +this. Our religions may differ in form, but at least we have some common +thoughts and feelings when we see this emblem."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that," I answered.</p> + +<p>He looked at me thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"You are a very strange man," he said at last. "I cannot understand you. +You still stand between me and Sophie. It is a dangerous position to +take, sir. Oh, believe me, before it is too late. If you did but know +what I have done to gain that woman—how I have risked my body, how I +have lost my soul! You are a small obstacle to some which I have +surmounted—you, whom a rip with a knife, or a blow from a stone, would +put out of my way for ever. But God preserve me from that," he cried +wildly. "I am deep—too deep—already. Anything rather than that."</p> + +<p>"You would do better to go back to your country," I said, "than to skulk +about these sand-hills and disturb my leisure. When I have proof that +you have gone away I shall hand this woman over to the protection of the +Russian Consul at Edinburgh. Until then, I shall guard her myself, and +not you, nor any Muscovite that ever breathed, shall take her from me."</p> + +<p>"And what is your object in keeping me from Sophie?" he asked. "Do you +imagine that I would injure her? Why man, I would give my life freely to +save her from the slightest harm. Why do you do this thing?"</p> + +<p>"I do it because it is my good pleasure to act so," I answered. "I give +no man reasons for my conduct."</p> + +<p>"Look here!" he cried, suddenly blazing into fury, and advancing towards +me with his shaggy mane bristling and his brown hands clenched. "If I +thought you had one dishonest thought towards this girl—if for a moment +I had reason to believe that you had any base motive for detaining +her—as sure as there is a God in Heaven I should drag the heart out of +your bosom with my hands." The very idea seemed to have put the man in a +frenzy, for his face was all distorted and his hands opened and shut +convulsively. I thought that he was about to spring at my throat.</p> + +<p>"Stand off," I said, putting my hand on my pistol. "If you lay a finger +on me I shall kill you."</p> + +<p>He put his hand into his pocket, and for a moment I thought he was about +to produce a weapon too, but instead of that he whipped out a cigarette +and lit it, breathing the smoke rapidly into his lungs. No doubt he had +found by experience that this was the most effectual way of curbing his +passions.</p> + +<p>"I told you," he said in a quieter voice, "that my name is +Ourganeff—Alexis Ourganeff. I am a Finn by birth, but I have spent my +life in every part of the world. I was one who could never be still, nor +settle down to a quiet existence. After I came to own my own ship there +is hardly a port from Archangel to Australia which I have not entered. I +was rough and wild and free, but there was one at home, sir, who was +prim and white-handed and soft-tongued, skilful in little fancies and +conceits which women love. This youth by his wiles and tricks stole from +me the love of the girl whom I had ever marked as my own, and who up to +that time had seemed in some sort inclined to return my passion. I had +been on a voyage to Hammerfest for ivory, and coming back unexpectedly I +learned that my pride and treasure was to be married to this +soft-skinned boy, and that the party had actually gone to the church. In +such moments, sir, something gives way in my head, and I hardly know +what I do. I landed with a boat's crew—all men who had sailed with me +for years, and who were as true as steel. We went up to the church. They +were standing, she and he, before the priest, but the thing had not been +done. I dashed between them and caught her round the waist. My men beat +back the frightened bridegroom and the lookers on. We bore her down to +the boat and aboard our vessel, and then getting up anchor we sailed +away across the White Sea until the spires of Archangel sank down behind +the horizon. She had my cabin, my room, every comfort. I slept among the +men in the forecastle. I hoped that in time her aversion to me would +wear away, and that she would consent to marry me in England or in +France. For days and days we sailed. We saw the North Cape die away +behind us, and we skirted the grey Norwegian coast, but still, in spite +of every attention, she would not forgive me for tearing her from that +pale-faced lover of hers. Then came this cursed storm which shattered +both my ship and my hopes, and has deprived me even of the sight of the +woman for whom I have risked so much. Perhaps she may learn to love me +yet. You, sir," he said wistfully, "look like one who has seen much of +the world. Do you not think that she may come to forget this man and to +love me?"</p> + +<p>"I am tired of your story," I said, turning away. "For my part, I think +you are a great fool. If you imagine that this love of yours will pass +away you had best amuse yourself as best you can until it does. If, on +the other hand, it is a fixed thing, you cannot do better than cut your +throat, for that is the shortest way out of it. I have no more time to +waste on the matter." With this I hurried away and walked down to the +boat. I never looked round, but I heard the dull sound of his feet upon +the sands as he followed me.</p> + +<p>"I have told you the beginning of my story," he said, "and you shall +know the end some day. You would do well to let the girl go."</p> + +<p>I never answered him, but pushed the boat off. When I had rowed some +distance out I looked back and saw his tall figure upon the yellow sand +as he stood gazing thoughtfully after me. When I looked again some +minutes later he had disappeared.</p> + +<p>For a long time after this my life was as regular and as monotonous as +it had been before the shipwreck. At times I hoped that the man from +Archangel had gone away altogether, but certain footsteps which I saw +upon the sand, and more particularly a little pile of cigarette ash +which I found one day behind a hillock from which a view of the house +might be obtained, warned me that, though invisible, he was still in the +vicinity. My relations with the Russian girl remained the same as +before. Old Madge had been somewhat jealous of her presence at first, +and seemed to fear that what little authority she had would be taken +away from her. By degrees, however, as she came to realise my utter +indifference, she became reconciled to the situation, and, as I have +said before, profited by it, as our visitor performed much of the +domestic work.</p> + +<p>And now I am coming near the end of this narrative of mine, which I have +written a great deal more for my own amusement than for that of any one +else. The termination of the strange episode in which these two Russians +had played a part was as wild and as sudden as the commencement. The +events of one single night freed me from all my troubles, and left me +once more alone with my books and my studies, as I had been before their +intrusion. Let me endeavour to describe how this came about.</p> + +<p>I had had a long day of heavy and wearying work, so that in the evening +I determined upon taking a long walk. When I emerged from the house my +attention was attracted by the appearance of the sea. It lay like a +sheet of glass, so that never a ripple disturbed its surface. Yet the +air was filled with that indescribable moaning sound which I have +alluded to before—a sound as though the spirits of all those who lay +beneath those treacherous waters were sending a sad warning of coming +troubles to their brethren in the flesh. The fishermen's wives along +that coast know the eerie sound, and look anxiously across the waters +for the brown sails making for the land. When I heard it I stepped back +into the house and looked at the glass. It was down below 29°. Then I +knew that a wild night was coming upon us.</p> + +<p>Underneath the hills where I walked that evening it was dull and chill, +but their summits were rosy-red, and the sea was brightened by the +sinking sun. There were no clouds of importance in the sky, yet the dull +groaning of the sea grew louder and stronger. I saw, far to the +eastward, a brig beating up for Wick, with a reef in her topsails. It +was evident that her captain had read the signs of nature as I had done. +Behind her a long, lurid haze lay low upon the water, concealing the +horizon. "I had better push on," I thought to myself, "or the wind may +rise before I can get back."</p> + +<p>I suppose I must have been at least half a mile from the house when I +suddenly stopped and listened breathlessly. My ears were so accustomed +to the noises of nature, the sighing of the breeze and the sob of the +waves, that any other sound made itself heard at a great distance. I +waited, listening with all my ears. Yes, there it was again—a +long-drawn, shrill cry of despair, ringing over the sands and echoed +back from the hills behind me—a piteous appeal for aid. It came from +the direction of my house. I turned and ran back homewards at the top of +my speed, ploughing through the sand, racing over the shingle. In my +mind there was a great dim perception of what had occurred.</p> + +<p>About a quarter of a mile from the house there is a high sand-hill, from +which the whole country round is visible. When I reached the top of this +I paused for a moment. There was the old grey building—there the boat. +Everything seemed to be as I had left it. Even as I gazed, however, the +shrill scream was repeated, louder than before, and the next moment a +tall figure emerged from my door, the figure of the Russian sailor. Over +his shoulder was the white form of the young girl, and even in his haste +he seemed to bear her tenderly and with gentle reverence. I could hear +her wild cries and see her desperate struggles to break away from him. +Behind the couple came my old housekeeper, staunch and true, as the aged +dog, who can no longer bite, still snarls with toothless gums at the +intruder. She staggered feebly along at the heels of the ravisher, +waving her long, thin arms, and hurling, no doubt, volleys of Scotch +curses and imprecations at his head. I saw at a glance that he was +making for the boat. A sudden hope sprang up in my soul that I might be +in time to intercept him. I ran for the beach at the top of my speed. As +I ran I slipped a cartridge into my revolver. This I determined should +be the last of these invasions.</p> + +<p>I was too late. By the time I reached the water's edge he was a hundred +yards away, making the boat spring with every stroke of his powerful +arms. I uttered a wild cry of impotent anger, and stamped up and down +the sands like a maniac. He turned and saw me. Rising from his seat he +made me a graceful bow, and waved his hand to me. It was not a +triumphant or a derisive gesture. Even my furious and distempered mind +recognised it as being a solemn and courteous leave-taking. Then he +settled down to his oars once more, and the little skiff shot away out +over the bay. The sun had gone down now, leaving a single dull, red +streak upon the water, which stretched away until it blended with the +purple haze on the horizon. Gradually the skiff grew smaller and smaller +as it sped across this lurid band, until the shades of night gathered +round it and it became a mere blur upon the lonely sea. Then this vague +loom died away also and darkness settled over it—a darkness which +should never be raised.</p> + +<p>And why did I pace the solitary shore, hot and wrathful as a wolf whose +whelp has been torn from it? Was it that I loved this Muscovite girl? +No—a thousand times no. I am not one who, for the sake of a white skin +or a blue eye, would belie my own life, and change the whole tenor of my +thoughts and existence. My heart was untouched. But my pride—ah, there +I had been cruelly wounded. To think that I had been unable to afford +protection to the helpless one who craved it of me, and who relied on +me! It was that which made my heart sick and sent the blood buzzing +through my ears.</p> + +<p>That night a great wind rose up from the sea, and the wild waves +shrieked upon the shore as though they would tear it back with them into +the ocean. The turmoil and the uproar were congenial to my vexed spirit. +All night I wandered up and down, wet with spray and rain, watching the +gleam of the white breakers and listening to the outcry of the storm. My +heart was bitter against the Russian. I joined my feeble pipe to the +screaming of the gale. "If he would but come back again!" I cried, with +clenched hands; "if he would but come back!"</p> + +<p>He came back. When the grey light of morning spread over the eastern +sky, and lit up the great waste of yellow, tossing waters, with the +brown clouds drifting swiftly over them, then I saw him once again. A +few hundred yards off along the sand there lay a long dark object, cast +up by the fury of the waves. It was my boat, much shattered and +splintered. A little farther on, a vague, shapeless something was +washing to and fro in the shallow water, all mixed with shingle and with +seaweed. I saw at a glance that it was the Russian, face downwards and +dead. I rushed into the water and dragged him up on to the beach. It was +only when I turned him over that I discovered that she was beneath him, +his dead arms encircling her, his mangled body still intervening between +her and the fury of the storm. It seemed that the fierce German Sea +might beat the life from him, but with all its strength it was unable to +tear this one-idea'd man from the woman whom he loved. There were signs +which led me to believe that during that awful night the woman's fickle +mind had come at last to learn the worth of the true heart and strong +arm which struggled for her and guarded her so tenderly. Why else should +her little head be nestling so lovingly on his broad breast, while her +yellow hair entwined itself with his flowing beard? Why too should there +be that bright smile of ineffable happiness and triumph, which death +itself had not had power to banish from his dusky face? I fancy that +death had been brighter to him than life had ever been.</p> + +<p>Madge and I buried them there on the shores of the desolate northern +sea. They lie in one grave deep down beneath the yellow sand. Strange +things may happen in the world around them. Empires may rise and may +fall, dynasties may perish, great wars may come and go, but, heedless of +it all, those two shall embrace each other for ever and aye, in their +lonely shrine by the side of the sounding ocean. I sometimes have +thought that their spirits flit like shadowy sea-mews over the wild +waters of the bay. No cross or symbol marks their resting-place, but old +Madge puts wild flowers upon it at times, and when I pass on my daily +walk and see the fresh blossoms scattered over the sand, I think of the +strange couple who came from afar, and broke for a little space the dull +tenor of my sombre life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<h3>THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR</h3> + + +<p>It was a cold, foggy, dreary evening in May. Along the Strand blurred +patches of light marked the position of the lamps. The flaring shop +windows flickered vaguely with steamy brightness through the thick and +heavy atmosphere.</p> + +<p>The high lines of houses which led down to the Embankment were all dark +and deserted, or illuminated only by the glimmering lamp of the +caretaker. At one point, however, there shone out from three windows +upon the second floor a rich flood of light, which broke the sombre +monotony of the terrace. Passers-by glanced up curiously, and drew each +others' attention to the ruddy glare, for it marked the chambers of +Francis Pericord, the inventor and electrical engineer. Long into the +watches of the night the gleam of his lamps bore witness to the untiring +energy and restless industry which was rapidly carrying him to the first +rank in his profession.</p> + +<p>Within the chamber sat two men. The one was Pericord himself—hawk-faced +and angular, with the black hair and brisk bearing which spoke of his +Celtic origin. The other—thick, sturdy, and blue-eyed, was Jeremy +Brown, the well-known mechanician. They had been partners in many an +invention, in which the creative genius of the one had been aided by the +practical abilities of the other. It was a question among their friends +as to which was the better man.</p> + +<p>It was no chance visit which had brought Brown into Pericord's workshop +at so late an hour. Business was to be done—business which was to +decide the failure or success of months of work, and which might affect +their whole careers. Between them lay a long brown table, stained and +corroded by strong acids, and littered with giant carboys, Faure's +accumulators, voltaic piles, coils of wire, and great blocks of +nonconducting porcelain. In the midst of all this lumber there stood a +singular whizzing, whirring machine, upon which the eyes of both +partners were riveted.</p> + +<p>A small square metal receptacle was connected by numerous wires to a +broad steel girdle, furnished on either side with two powerful +projecting joints. The girdle was motionless, but the joints with the +short arms attached to them flashed round every few seconds, with a +pause between each rhythmic turn. The power which moved them came +evidently from the metal box. A subtle odour of ozone was in the air.</p> + +<p>"How about the flanges, Brown?" asked the inventor.</p> + +<p>"They were too large to bring. They are seven foot by three. There is +power enough there to work them however. I will answer for that."</p> + +<p>"Aluminium with an alloy of copper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"See how beautifully it works." Pericord stretched out a thin, nervous +hand, and pressed a button upon the machine. The joints revolved more +slowly, and came presently to a dead stop. Again he touched a spring and +the arms shivered and woke up again into their crisp metallic life. "The +experimenter need not exert his muscular powers," he remarked. "He has +only to be passive, and use his intelligence."</p> + +<p>"Thanks to my motor," said Brown.</p> + +<p>"<i>Our</i> motor," the other broke in sharply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course," said his colleague impatiently. "The motor which you +thought of, and which I reduced to practice—call it what you like."</p> + +<p>"I call it the Brown-Pericord Motor," cried the inventor, with an angry +flash of his dark eyes. "You worked out the details, but the abstract +thought is mine, and mine alone."</p> + +<p>"An abstract thought won't turn an engine," said Brown doggedly.</p> + +<p>"That was why I took you into partnership," the other retorted, drumming +nervously with his fingers upon the table. "I invent, you build. It is a +fair division of labour."</p> + +<p>Brown pursed up his lips, as though by no means satisfied upon the +point. Seeing, however, that further argument was useless, he turned his +attention to the machine, which was shivering and rocking with each +swing of its arms, as though a very little more would send it skimming +from the table.</p> + +<p>"Is it not splendid?" cried Pericord.</p> + +<p>"It is satisfactory," said the more phlegmatic Anglo-Saxon.</p> + +<p>"There's immortality in it!"</p> + +<p>"There's money in it!"</p> + +<p>"Our names will go down with Montgolfier's."</p> + +<p>"With Rothschild's, I hope."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Brown; you take too material a view," cried the inventor, +raising his gleaming eyes from the machine to his companion. "Our +fortunes are a mere detail. Money is a thing which every heavy-witted +plutocrat in the country shares with us. My hopes rise to something +higher than that. Our true reward will come in the gratitude and +goodwill of the human race."</p> + +<p>Brown shrugged his shoulders. "You may have my share of that," he said. +"I am a practical man. We must test our invention."</p> + +<p>"Where can we do it?"</p> + +<p>"That is what I wanted to speak about. It must be absolutely secret. If +we had private grounds of our own it would be an easy matter, but there +is no privacy in London."</p> + +<p>"We must take it into the country."</p> + +<p>"I have a suggestion to offer," said Brown. "My brother has a place in +Sussex on the high land near Beachy Head. There is, I remember, a large +and lofty barn near the house. Will is in Scotland, but the key is +always at my disposal. Why not take the machine down to-morrow and test +it in the barn?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing could be better."</p> + +<p>"There is a train to Eastbourne at one."</p> + +<p>"I shall be at the station."</p> + +<p>"Bring the gear with you, and I will bring the flanges," said the +mechanician, rising. "To-morrow will prove whether we have been +following a shadow, or whether fortune is at our feet. One o'clock at +Victoria." He walked swiftly down the stair and was quickly reabsorbed +into the flood of comfortless clammy humanity which ebbed and flowed +along the Strand.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The morning was bright and spring-like. A pale blue sky arched over +London, with a few gauzy white clouds drifting lazily across it. At +eleven o'clock Brown might have been seen entering the Patent Office +with a great roll of parchment, diagrams, and plans under his arm. At +twelve he emerged again smiling, and, opening his pocket-book, he packed +away very carefully a small slip of official blue paper. At five minutes +to one his cab rolled into Victoria Station. Two giant canvas-covered +parcels, like enormous kites, were handed down by the cabman from the +top, and consigned to the care of a guard. On the platform Pericord was +pacing up and down, with long, eager step and swinging arms, a tinge of +pink upon his sunken and sallow cheeks.</p> + +<p>"All right?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Brown pointed in answer to his baggage.</p> + +<p>"I have the motor and the girdle already packed away in the guard's van. +Be careful, guard, for it is delicate machinery of great value. So! Now +we can start with an easy conscience."</p> + +<p>At Eastbourne the precious motor was carried to a four-wheeler, and the +great flanges hoisted on the top. A long drive took them to the house +where the keys were kept, whence they set off across the barren Downs. +The building which was their destination was a commonplace whitewashed +structure, with straggling stables and out-houses, standing in a grassy +hollow which sloped down from the edge of the chalk cliffs. It was a +cheerless house even when in use, but now with its smokeless chimneys +and shuttered windows it looked doubly dreary. The owner had planted a +grove of young larches and firs around it, but the sweeping spray had +blighted them, and they hung their withered heads in melancholy groups. +It was a gloomy and forbidding spot.</p> + +<p>But the inventors were in no mood to be moved by such trifles. The +lonelier the place, the more fitted for their purpose. With the help of +the cabman they carried their packages down the footpath, and laid them +in the darkened dining-room. The sun was setting as the distant murmur +of wheels told them that they were finally alone.</p> + +<p>Pericord had thrown open the shutters and the mellow evening light +streamed in through the discoloured windows. Brown drew a knife from his +pocket and cut the pack-thread with which the canvas was secured. As the +brown covering fell away it disclosed two great yellow metal fans. These +he leaned carefully against the wall. The girdle, the connecting-bands, +and the motor were then in turn unpacked. It was dark before all was set +out in order. A lamp was lit, and by its light the two men continued to +tighten screws, clinch rivets, and make the last preparations for their +experiment.</p> + +<p>"That finishes it," said Brown at last, stepping back and surveying the +machine.</p> + +<p>Pericord said nothing, but his face glowed with pride and expectation.</p> + +<p>"We must have something to eat," Brown remarked, laying out some +provisions which he had brought with him.</p> + +<p>"Afterwards."</p> + +<p>"No, now," said the stolid mechanician. "I am half starved." He pulled +up to the table and made a hearty meal, while his Celtic companion +strode impatiently up and down, with twitching fingers and restless +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Now then," said Brown, facing round, and brushing the crumbs from his +lap, "who is to put it on?"</p> + +<p>"I shall," cried his companion eagerly. "What we do to-night is likely +to be historic."</p> + +<p>"But there is some danger," suggested Brown. "We cannot quite tell how +it may act."</p> + +<p>"That is nothing," said Pericord, with a wave of his hand.</p> + +<p>"But there is no use our going out of our way to incur danger."</p> + +<p>"What then? One of us must do it."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. The motor would act equally well if attached to any +inanimate object."</p> + +<p>"That is true," said Pericord thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"There are bricks by the barn. I have a sack here. Why should not a +bagful of them take our place?"</p> + +<p>"It is a good idea. I see no objection."</p> + +<p>"Come on then," and the two sallied out, bearing with them the various +sections of their machine. The moon was shining cold and clear though an +occasional ragged cloud drifted across her face. All was still and +silent upon the Downs. They stood and listened before they entered the +barn, but not a sound came to their ears, save the dull murmur of the +sea and the distant barking of a dog. Pericord journeyed backwards and +forwards with all that they might need, while Brown filled a long narrow +sack with bricks.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, the door of the barn was closed, and the lamp +balanced upon an empty packing-case. The bag of bricks was laid upon two +trestles, and the broad steel girdle was buckled round it. Then the +great flanges, the wires, and the metal box containing the motor were in +turn attached to the girdle. Last of all a flat steel rudder, shaped +like a fish's tail, was secured to the bottom of the sack.</p> + +<p>"We must make it travel in a small circle," said Pericord, glancing +round at the bare high walls.</p> + +<p>"Tie the rudder down at one side," suggested Brown. "Now it is ready. +Press the connection and off she goes!"</p> + +<p>Pericord leaned forward, his long sallow face quivering with excitement. +His white nervous hands darted here and there among the wires. Brown +stood impassive with critical eyes. There was a sharp burr from the +machine. The huge yellow wings gave a convulsive flap. Then another. +Then a third, slower and stronger, with a fuller sweep. Then a fourth +which filled the barn with a blast of driven air. At the fifth the bag +of bricks began to dance upon the trestles. At the sixth it sprang into +the air, and would have fallen to the ground, but the seventh came to +save it, and fluttered it forward through the air. Slowly rising, it +flapped heavily round in a circle, like some great clumsy bird, filling +the barn with its buzzing and whirring. In the uncertain yellow light of +the single lamp it was strange to see the loom of the ungainly thing, +flapping off into the shadows, and then circling back into the narrow +zone of light.</p> + +<p>The two men stood for a while in silence. Then Pericord threw his long +arms up into the air.</p> + +<p>"It acts!" he cried. "The Brown-Pericord Motor acts!" He danced about +like a madman in his delight. Brown's eyes twinkled, and he began to +whistle.</p> + +<p>"See how smoothly it goes, Brown!" cried the inventor. "And the +rudder—how well it acts! We must register it to-morrow."</p> + +<p>His comrade's face darkened and set. "It <i>is</i> registered," he said, with +a forced laugh.</p> + +<p>"Registered?" said Pericord. "Registered?" He repeated the word first in +a whisper, and then in a kind of scream. "Who has dared to register my +invention?"</p> + +<p>"I did it this morning. There is nothing to be excited about. It is all +right."</p> + +<p>"You registered the motor! Under whose name?"</p> + +<p>"Under my own," said Brown sullenly. "I consider that I have the best +right to it."</p> + +<p>"And my name does not appear?"</p> + +<p>"No, but——"</p> + +<p>"You villain!" screamed Pericord. "You thief and villain! You would +steal my work! You would filch my credit! I will have that patent back +if I have to tear your throat out!" A sombre fire burned in his black +eyes, and his hands writhed themselves together with passion. Brown was +no coward, but he shrank back as the other advanced upon him.</p> + +<p>"Keep your hands off!" he said, drawing a knife from his pocket. "I will +defend myself if you attack me.</p> + +<p>"You threaten me?" cried Pericord, whose face was livid with anger. "You +are a bully as well as a cheat. Will you give up the patent?"</p> + +<p>"No, I will not."</p> + +<p>"Brown, I say, give it up!"</p> + +<p>"I will not. I did the work."</p> + +<p>Pericord sprang madly forward with blazing eyes and clutching fingers. +His companion writhed out of his grasp, but was dashed against the +packing-case, over which he fell. The lamp was extinguished, and the +whole barn plunged into darkness. A single ray of moonlight shining +through a narrow chink flickered over the great waving fans as they came +and went.</p> + +<p>"Will you give up the patent, Brown?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"Will you give it up?"</p> + +<p>Again no answer. Not a sound save the humming and creaking overhead. A +cold pang of fear and doubt struck through Pericord's heart. He felt +aimlessly about in the dark and his fingers closed upon a hand. It was +cold and unresponsive. With all his anger turned to icy horror he struck +a match, set the lamp up, and lit it.</p> + +<p>Brown lay huddled up on the other side of the packing-case. Pericord +seized him in his arms, and with convulsive strength lifted him across. +Then the mystery of his silence was explained. He had fallen with his +right arm doubled up under him, and his own weight had driven the knife +deeply into his body. He had died without a groan. The tragedy had been +sudden, horrible, and complete.</p> + +<p>Pericord sat silently on the edge of the case, staring blankly down, and +shivering like one with the ague, while the great Brown-Pericord Motor +boomed and hurtled above him. How long he sat there can never be known. +It might have been minutes or it might have been hours. A thousand mad +schemes flashed through his dazed brain. It was true that he had been +only the indirect cause. But who would believe that? He glanced down at +his blood-spattered clothing. Everything was against him. It would be +better to fly than to give himself up, relying upon his innocence. No +one in London knew where they were. If he could dispose of the body he +might have a few days clear before any suspicion would be aroused.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a loud crash recalled him to himself. The flying sack had +gradually risen with each successive circle until it had struck against +the rafters. The blow displaced the connecting-gear, and the machine +fell heavily to the ground. Pericord undid the girdle. The motor was +uninjured. A sudden, strange thought flashed upon him as he looked at +it. The machine had become hateful to him. He might dispose both of it +and the body in a way that would baffle all human search.</p> + +<p>He threw open the barn door, and carried his companion out into the +moonlight. There was a hillock outside, and on the summit of this he +laid him reverently down. Then he brought from the barn the motor, the +girdle and the flanges. With trembling fingers he fastened the broad +steel belt round the dead man's waist. Then he screwed the wings into +the sockets. Beneath he slung the motor-box, fastened the wires, and +switched on the connection. For a minute or two the huge yellow fans +flapped and flickered. Then the body began to move in little jumps down +the side of the hillock, gathering a gradual momentum, until at last it +heaved up into the air and soared heavily off in the moonlight. He had +not used the rudder, but had turned the head for the south. Gradually +the weird thing rose higher, and sped faster, until it had passed over +the line of cliff, and was sweeping over the silent sea. Pericord +watched it with a white drawn face, until it looked like a black bird +with golden wings half shrouded in the mist which lay over the waters.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>In the New York State Lunatic Asylum there is a wild-eyed man whose name +and birth-place are alike unknown. His reason has been unseated by some +sudden shock, the doctors say, though of what nature they are unable to +determine. "It is the most delicate machine which is most readily put +out of gear," they remark, and point, in proof of their axiom, to the +complicated electric engines, and remarkable aeronautic machines which +the patient is fond of devising in his more lucid moments.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>THE SEALED ROOM</h3> + + +<p>A solicitor of an active habit and athletic tastes who is compelled by +his hopes of business to remain within the four walls of his office from +ten till five must take what exercise he can in the evenings. Hence it +was that I was in the habit of indulging in very long nocturnal +excursions, in which I sought the heights of Hampstead and Highgate in +order to cleanse my system from the impure air of Abchurch Lane. It was +in the course of one of these aimless rambles that I first met Felix +Stanniford, and so led up to what has been the most extraordinary +adventure of my lifetime.</p> + +<p>One evening—it was in April or early May of the year 1894—I made my +way to the extreme northern fringe of London, and was walking down one +of those fine avenues of high brick villas which the huge city is for +ever pushing farther and farther out into the country. It was a fine, +clear spring night, the moon was shining out of an unclouded sky, and I, +having already left many miles behind me, was inclined to walk slowly +and look about me. In this contemplative mood, my attention was arrested +by one of the houses which I was passing.</p> + +<p>It was a very large building, standing in its own grounds, a little back +from the road. It was modern in appearance, and yet it was far less so +than its neighbours, all of which were crudely and painfully new. Their +symmetrical line was broken by the gap caused by the laurel-studded +lawn, with the great, dark, gloomy house looming at the back of it. +Evidently it had been the country retreat of some wealthy merchant, +built perhaps when the nearest street was a mile off, and now gradually +overtaken and surrounded by the red brick tentacles of the London +octopus. The next stage, I reflected, would be its digestion and +absorption, so that the cheap builder might rear a dozen +eighty-pound-a-year villas upon the garden frontage. And then, as all +this passed vaguely through my mind, an incident occurred which brought +my thoughts into quite another channel.</p> + +<p>A four-wheeled cab, that opprobium of London, was coming jolting and +creaking in one direction, while in the other there was a yellow glare +from the lamp of a cyclist. They were the only moving objects in the +whole long, moonlit road, and yet they crashed into each other with that +malignant accuracy which brings two ocean liners together in the broad +waste of the Atlantic. It was the cyclist's fault. He tried to cross in +front of the cab, miscalculated his distance, and was knocked sprawling +by the horse's shoulder. He rose, snarling; the cabman swore back at +him, and then, realising that his number had not yet been taken, lashed +his horse and lumbered off. The cyclist caught at the handles of his +prostrate machine, and then suddenly sat down with a groan. "Oh, Lord!" +he said.</p> + +<p>I ran across the road to his side. "Any harm done?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"It's my ankle," said he. "Only a twist, I think; but it's pretty +painful. Just give me your hand, will you?"</p> + +<p>He lay in the yellow circle of the cycle lamp, and I noted as I helped +him to his feet that he was a gentlemanly young fellow, with a slight +dark moustache and large, brown eyes, sensitive and nervous in +appearance, with indications of weak health upon his sunken cheeks. Work +or worry had left its traces upon his thin, yellow face. He stood up +when I pulled his hand, but he held one foot in the air, and he groaned +as he moved it.</p> + +<p>"I can't put it to the ground," said he.</p> + +<p>"Where do you live?"</p> + +<p>"Here!" he nodded his head towards the big, dark house in the garden. "I +was cutting across to the gate when that confounded cab ran into me. +Could you help me so far?"</p> + +<p>It was easily done. I put his cycle inside the gate, and then I +supported him down the drive, and up the steps to the hall door. There +was not a light anywhere, and the place was as black and silent as if no +one had ever lived in it.</p> + +<p>"That will do. Thank you very much," said he, fumbling with his key in +the lock.</p> + +<p>"No, you must allow me to see you safe."</p> + +<p>He made some feeble, petulant protest, and then realised that he could +really do nothing without me. The door had opened into a pitch-dark +hall. He lurched forward, with my hand still on his arm.</p> + +<p>"This door to the right," said he, feeling about in the darkness.</p> + +<p>I opened the door, and at the same moment he managed to strike a light. +There was a lamp upon the table, and we lit it between us. "Now, I'm all +right. You can leave me now! Good-bye!" said he, and with the words he +sat down in the arm-chair and fainted dead away.</p> + +<p>It was a queer position for me. The fellow looked so ghastly, that +really I was not sure that he was not dead. Presently his lips quivered +and his breast heaved, but his eyes were two white slits and his colour +was horrible. The responsibility was more than I could stand. I pulled +at the bell-rope, and heard the bell ringing furiously far away. But no +one came in response. The bell tinkled away into silence, which no +murmur or movement came to break. I waited, and rang again, with the +same result. There must be some one about. This young gentleman could +not live all alone in that huge house. His people ought to know of his +condition. If they would not answer the bell, I must hunt them out +myself. I seized the lamp and rushed from the room.</p> + +<p>What I saw outside amazed me. The hall was empty. The stairs were bare, +and yellow with dust. There were three doors opening into spacious +rooms, and each was uncarpeted and undraped, save for the grey webs +which drooped from the cornice, and rosettes of lichen which had formed +upon the walls. My feet reverberated in those empty and silent chambers. +Then I wandered on down the passage, with the idea that the kitchens, at +least, might be tenanted. Some caretaker might lurk in some secluded +room. No, they were all equally desolate. Despairing of finding any +help, I ran down another corridor, and came on something which surprised +me more than ever.</p> + +<p>The passage ended in a large, brown door, and the door had a seal of red +wax the size of a five-shilling piece over the key-hole. This seal gave +me the impression of having been there for a long time, for it was dusty +and discoloured. I was still staring at it, and wondering what that door +might conceal, when I heard a voice calling behind me, and, running +back, found my young man sitting up in his chair and very much +astonished at finding himself in darkness.</p> + +<p>"Why on earth did you take the lamp away?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I was looking for assistance."</p> + +<p>"You might look for some time," said he. "I am alone in the house."</p> + +<p>"Awkward if you get an illness."</p> + +<p>"It was foolish of me to faint. I inherit a weak heart from my mother, +and pain or emotion has that effect upon me. It will carry me off some +day, as it did her. You're not a doctor, are you?"</p> + +<p>"No, a lawyer. Frank Alder is my name."</p> + +<p>"Mine is Felix Stanniford. Funny that I should meet a lawyer, for my +friend, Mr. Perceval, was saying that we should need one soon."</p> + +<p>"Very happy, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Well, that will depend upon him, you know. Did you say that you had run +with that lamp all over the ground floor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"<i>All</i> over it?" he asked, with emphasis, and he looked at me very hard.</p> + +<p>"I think so. I kept on hoping that I should find some one."</p> + +<p>"Did you enter <i>all</i> the rooms?" he asked, with the same intent gaze.</p> + +<p>"Well, all that I could enter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then you <i>did</i> notice it!" said he, and he shrugged his shoulders +with the air of a man who makes the best of a bad job.</p> + +<p>"Notice, what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the door with the seal on it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did."</p> + +<p>"Weren't you curious to know what was in it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it did strike me as unusual."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you could go on living alone in this house, year after +year, just longing all the time to know what is at the other side of +that door, and yet not looking?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say," I cried, "that you don't know yourself?"</p> + +<p>"No more than you do."</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you look?"</p> + +<p>"I mustn't," said he.</p> + +<p>He spoke in a constrained way, and I saw that I had blundered on to some +delicate ground. I don't know that I am more inquisitive than my +neighbours, but there certainly was something in the situation which +appealed very strongly to my curiosity. However, my last excuse for +remaining in the house was gone now that my companion had recovered his +senses. I rose to go.</p> + +<p>"Are you in a hurry?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No; I have nothing to do."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should be very glad if you would stay with me a little. The +fact is that I live a very retired and secluded life here. I don't +suppose there is a man in London who leads such a life as I do. It is +quite unusual for me to have any one to talk with."</p> + +<p>I looked round at the little room, scantily furnished, with a sofa-bed +at one side. Then I thought of the great, bare house, and the sinister +door with the discoloured red seal upon it. There was something queer +and grotesque in the situation, which made me long to know a little +more. Perhaps I should, if I waited. I told him that I should be very +happy.</p> + +<p>"You will find the spirits and a siphon upon the side table. You must +forgive me if I cannot act as host, but I can't get across the room. +Those are cigars in the tray there. I'll take one myself, I think. And +so you are a solicitor, Mr. Alder?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And I am nothing. I am that most helpless of living creatures, the son +of a millionaire. I was brought up with the expectation of great wealth; +and here I am, a poor man, without any profession at all. And then, on +the top of it all, I am left with this great mansion on my hands, which +I cannot possibly keep up. Isn't it an absurd situation? For me to use +this as my dwelling is like a coster drawing his barrow with a +thoroughbred. A donkey would be more useful to him, and a cottage to +me."</p> + +<p>"But why not sell the house?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I mustn't."</p> + +<p>"Let it, then?"</p> + +<p>"No, I mustn't do that either."</p> + +<p>I looked puzzled, and my companion smiled.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you how it is, if it won't bore you," said he.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I should be exceedingly interested."</p> + +<p>"I think, after your kind attention to me, I cannot do less than relieve +any curiosity that you may feel. You must know that my father was +Stanislaus Stanniford, the banker."</p> + +<p>Stanniford, the banker! I remembered the name at once. His flight from +the country some seven years before had been one of the scandals and +sensations of the time.</p> + +<p>"I see that you remember," said my companion. "My poor father left the +country to avoid numerous friends, whose savings he had invested in an +unsuccessful speculation. He was a nervous, sensitive man, and the +responsibility quite upset his reason. He had committed no legal +offence. It was purely a matter of sentiment. He would not even face his +own family, and he died among strangers without ever letting us know +where he was."</p> + +<p>"He died!" said I.</p> + +<p>"We could not prove his death, but we know that it must be so, because +the speculations came right again, and so there was no reason why he +should not look any man in the face. He would have returned if he were +alive. But he must have died in the last two years."</p> + +<p>"Why in the last two years?"</p> + +<p>"Because we heard from him two years ago."</p> + +<p>"Did he not tell you then where he was living?"</p> + +<p>"The letter came from Paris, but no address was given. It was when my +poor mother died. He wrote to me then, with some instructions and some +advice, and I have never heard from him since."</p> + +<p>"Had you heard before?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we had heard before, and that's where our mystery of the +sealed door, upon which you stumbled to-night, has its origin. Pass me +that desk, if you please. Here I have my father's letters, and you are +the first man except Mr. Perceval who has seen them."</p> + +<p>"Who is Mr. Perceval, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"He was my father's confidential clerk, and he has continued to be the +friend and adviser of my mother and then of myself. I don't know what we +should have done without Perceval. He saw the letters, but no one else. +This is the first one, which came on the very day when my father fled, +seven years ago. Read it to yourself."</p> + +<p>This is the letter which I read:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">My Ever Dearest Wife</span>,—</p> + +<p>"Since Sir William told me how weak your heart is, and how +harmful any shock might be, I have never talked about my +business affairs to you. The time has come when at all risks I +can no longer refrain from telling you that things have been +going badly with me. This will cause me to leave you for a +little time, but it is with the absolute assurance that we +shall see each other very soon. On this you can thoroughly +rely. Our parting is only for a very short time, my own +darling, so don't let it fret you, and above all don't let it +impair your health, for that is what I want above all things to +avoid.</p> + +<p>"Now, I have a request to make, and I implore you by all that +binds us together to fulfil it exactly as I tell you. There are +some things which I do not wish to be seen by any one in my +dark room—the room which I use for photographic purposes at +the end of the garden passage. To prevent any painful thoughts, +I may assure you once for all, dear, that it is nothing of +which I need be ashamed. But still I do not wish you or Felix +to enter that room. It is locked, and I implore you when you +receive this to at once place a seal over the lock, and leave +it so. Do not sell or let the house, for in either case my +secret will be discovered. As long as you or Felix are in the +house, I know that you will comply with my wishes. When Felix +is twenty-one he may enter the room—not before.</p> + +<p>"And now, good-bye, my own best of wives. During our short +separation you can consult Mr. Perceval on any matters which +may arise. He has my complete confidence. I hate to leave Felix +and you—even for a time—but there is really no choice.</p> + +<p>"Ever and always your loving husband,</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Stanislaus Stanniford</span>.</p> + +<p>"<i>June 4th, 1887.</i>"</p></blockquote> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"These are very private family matters for me to inflict upon you," said +my companion apologetically. "You must look upon it as done in your +professional capacity. I have wanted to speak about it for years."</p> + +<p>"I am honoured by your confidence," I answered, "and exceedingly +interested by the facts."</p> + +<p>"My father was a man who was noted for his almost morbid love of truth. +He was always pedantically accurate. When he said, therefore, that he +hoped to see my mother very soon, and when he said that he had nothing +to be ashamed of in that dark room, you may rely upon it that he meant +it."</p> + +<p>"Then what can it be?" I ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"Neither my mother nor I could imagine. We carried out his wishes to the +letter, and placed the seal upon the door; there it has been ever since. +My mother lived for five years after my father's disappearance, although +at the time all the doctors said that she could not survive long. Her +heart was terribly diseased. During the first few months she had two +letters from my father. Both had the Paris postmark, but no address. +They were short and to the same effect: that they would soon be +re-united, and that she should not fret. Then there was a silence, which +lasted until her death; and then came a letter to me of so private a +nature that I cannot show it to you, begging me never to think evil of +him, giving me much good advice, and saying that the sealing of the room +was of less importance now than during the lifetime of my mother, but +that the opening might still cause pain to others, and that, therefore, +he thought it best that it should be postponed until my twenty-first +year, for the lapse of time would make things easier. In the meantime, +he committed the care of the room to me; so now you can understand how +it is that, although I am a very poor man, I can neither let nor sell +this great house."</p> + +<p>"You could mortgage it."</p> + +<p>"My father had already done so."</p> + +<p>"It is a most singular state of affairs."</p> + +<p>"My mother and I were gradually compelled to sell the furniture and to +dismiss the servants, until now, as you see, I am living unattended in a +single room. But I have only two more months."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that in two months I come of age. The first thing that I do will +be to open that door; the second, to get rid of the house."</p> + +<p>"Why should your father have continued to stay away when these +investments had recovered themselves?"</p> + +<p>"He must be dead."</p> + +<p>"You say that he had not committed any legal offence when he fled the +country?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"Why should he not take your mother with him?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"Why should he conceal his address?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"Why should he allow your mother to die and be buried without coming +back?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," said I, "if I may speak with the frankness of a +professional adviser, I should say that it is very clear that your +father had the strongest reasons for keeping out of the country, and +that, if nothing has been proved against him, he at least thought that +something might be, and refused to put himself within the power of the +law. Surely that must be obvious, for in what other possible way can the +facts be explained?"</p> + +<p>My companion did not take my suggestion in good part.</p> + +<p>"You had not the advantage of knowing my father, Mr. Alder," he said +coldly. "I was only a boy when he left us, but I shall always look upon +him as my ideal man. His only fault was that he was too sensitive and +too unselfish. That any one should lose money through him would cut him +to the heart. His sense of honour was most acute, any theory of his +disappearance which conflicts with that is a mistaken one."</p> + +<p>It pleased me to hear the lad speak out so roundly, and yet I knew that +the facts were against him, and that he was incapable of taking an +unprejudiced view of the situation.</p> + +<p>"I only speak as an outsider," said I. "And now I must leave you, for I +have a long walk before me. Your story has interested me so much that I +should be glad if you could let me know the sequel."</p> + +<p>"Leave me your card," said he; and so, having bade him "good-night," I +left him.</p> + +<p>I heard nothing more of the matter for some time, and had almost feared +that it would prove to be one of those fleeting experiences which drift +away from our direct observation and end only in a hope or a suspicion. +One afternoon, however, a card bearing the name of Mr. J. H. Perceval +was brought up to my office in Abchurch Lane, and its bearer, a small, +dry, bright-eyed fellow of fifty, was ushered in by the clerk.</p> + +<p>"I believe, sir," said he, "that my name has been mentioned to you by my +young friend, Mr. Felix Stanniford?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," I answered, "I remember."</p> + +<p>"He spoke to you, I understand, about the circumstances in connection +with the disappearance of my former employer, Mr. Stanislaus Stanniford, +and the existence of a sealed room in his former residence."</p> + +<p>"He did."</p> + +<p>"And you expressed an interest in the matter."</p> + +<p>"It interested me extremely."</p> + +<p>"You are aware that we hold Mr. Stanniford's permission to open the door +on the twenty-first birthday of his son?"</p> + +<p>"I remember."</p> + +<p>"The twenty-first birthday is to-day."</p> + +<p>"Have you opened it?" I asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, sir," said he gravely. "I have reason to believe that it would +be well to have witnesses present when that door is opened. You are a +lawyer, and you are acquainted with the facts. Will you be present on +the occasion?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly."</p> + +<p>"You are employed during the day, and so am I. Shall we meet at nine +o'clock at the house?"</p> + +<p>"I will come with pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Then you will find us waiting for you. Good-bye, for the present." He +bowed solemnly, and took his leave.</p> + +<p>I kept my appointment that evening, with a brain which was weary with +fruitless attempts to think out some plausible explanation of the +mystery which we were about to solve. Mr. Perceval and my young +acquaintance were waiting for me in the little room. I was not surprised +to see the young man looking pale and nervous, but I was rather +astonished to find the dry little City man in a state of intense, though +partially suppressed, excitement. His cheeks were flushed, his hands +twitching, and he could not stand still for an instant.</p> + +<p>Stanniford greeted me warmly, and thanked me many times for having come. +"And now, Perceval," said he to his companion, "I suppose there is no +obstacle to our putting the thing through without delay? I shall be glad +to get it over."</p> + +<p>The banker's clerk took up the lamp and led the way. But he paused in +the passage outside the door, and his hand was shaking, so that the +light flickered up and down the high, bare walls.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stanniford," said he, in a cracking voice, "I hope you will prepare +yourself in case any shock should be awaiting you when that seal is +removed and the door is opened."</p> + +<p>"What could there be, Perceval? You are trying to frighten me."</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Stanniford; but I should wish you to be ready ... to be braced +up ... not to allow yourself ..." He had to lick his dry lips between +every jerky sentence, and I suddenly realised, as clearly as if he had +told me, that he knew what was behind that closed door, and that it +<i>was</i> something terrible. "Here are the keys, Mr. Stanniford, but +remember my warning!"</p> + +<p>He had a bunch of assorted keys in his hand, and the young man snatched +them from him. Then he thrust a knife under the discoloured seal and +jerked it off. The lamp was rattling and shaking in Perceval's hands, so +I took it from him and held it near the key-hole, while Stanniford tried +key after key. At last one turned in the lock, the door flew open, he +took one step into the room, and then, with a horrible cry, the young +man fell senseless at our feet.</p> + +<p>If I had not given heed to the clerk's warning, and braced myself for a +shock, I should certainly have dropped the lamp. The room, windowless +and bare, was fitted up as a photographic laboratory, with a tap and +sink at the side of it. A shelf of bottles and measures stood at one +side, and a peculiar, heavy smell, partly chemical, partly animal, +filled the air. A single table and chair were in front of us, and at +this, with his back turned towards us, a man was seated in the act of +writing. His outline and attitude were as natural as life; but as the +light fell upon him, it made my hair rise to see that the nape of his +neck was black and wrinkled, and no thicker than my wrist. Dust lay upon +him—thick, yellow dust—upon his hair, his shoulders, his shrivelled, +lemon-coloured hands. His head had fallen forward upon his breast. His +pen still rested upon a discoloured sheet of paper.</p> + +<p>"My poor master! My poor, poor master!" cried the clerk, and the tears +were running down his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"What!" I cried, "Mr. Stanislaus Stanniford!"</p> + +<p>"Here he has sat for seven years. Oh, why would he do it? I begged him, +I implored him, I went on my knees to him, but he would have his way. +You see the key on the table. He had locked the door upon the inside. +And he has written something. We must take it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, take it, and for God's sake, let us get out of this," I +cried; "the air is poisonous. Come, Stanniford, come!" Taking an arm +each, we half led and half carried the terrified man back to his own +room.</p> + +<p>"It was my father!" he cried, as he recovered his consciousness. "He is +sitting there dead in his chair. You knew it, Perceval! This was what +you meant when you warned me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I knew it, Mr. Stanniford. I have acted for the best all along, +but my position has been a terribly difficult one. For seven years I +have known that your father was dead in that room."</p> + +<p>"You knew it, and never told us!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be harsh with me, Mr. Stanniford, sir! Make allowance for a man +who has had a hard part to play."</p> + +<p>"My head is swimming round. I cannot grasp it!" He staggered up, and +helped himself from the brandy bottle. "These letters to my mother and +to myself—were they forgeries?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; your father wrote them and addressed them, and left them in my +keeping to be posted. I have followed his instructions to the very +letter in all things. He was my master, and I have obeyed him."</p> + +<p>The brandy had steadied the young man's shaken nerves. "Tell me about +it. I can stand it now," said he.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Stanniford, you know that at one time there came a period of +great trouble upon your father, and he thought that many poor people +were about to lose their savings through his fault. He was a man who was +so tender-hearted that he could not bear the thought. It worried him and +tormented him, until he determined to end his life. Oh, Mr. Stanniford, +if you knew how I have prayed him and wrestled with him over it, you +would never blame me! And he in turn prayed me as no man has ever prayed +me before. He had made up his mind, and he would do it in any case, he +said; but it rested with me whether his death should be happy and easy +or whether it should be most miserable. I read in his eyes that he meant +what he said. And at last I yielded to his prayers, and I consented to +do his will.</p> + +<p>"What was troubling him was this. He had been told by the first doctor +in London that his wife's heart would fail at the slightest shock. He +had a horror of accelerating her end, and yet his own existence had +become unendurable to him. How could he end himself without injuring +her?</p> + +<p>"You know now the course that he took. He wrote the letter which she +received. There was nothing in it which was not literally true. When he +spoke of seeing her again so soon, he was referring to her own +approaching death, which he had been assured could not be delayed more +than a very few months. So convinced was he of this, that he only left +two letters to be forwarded at intervals after his death. She lived five +years, and I had no letters to send.</p> + +<p>"He left another letter with me to be sent to you, sir, upon the +occasion of the death of your mother. I posted all these in Paris to +sustain the idea of his being abroad. It was his wish that I should say +nothing, and I have said nothing. I have been a faithful servant. Seven +years after his death, he thought no doubt that the shock to the +feelings of his surviving friends Would be lessened. He was always +considerate for others."</p> + +<p>There was a silence for some time. It was broken by young Stanniford.</p> + +<p>"I cannot blame you, Perceval. You have spared my mother a shock, which +would certainly have broken her heart. What is that paper?"</p> + +<p>"It is what your father was writing, sir. Shall I read it to you?"</p> + +<p>"Do so."</p> + +<p>"'I have taken the poison, and I feel it working in my veins. It is +strange, but not painful. When these words are read I shall, if my +wishes have been faithfully carried out, have been dead many years. +Surely no one who has lost money through me will still bear me +animosity. And you, Felix, you will forgive me this family scandal. May +God find rest for a sorely wearied spirit!'"</p> + +<p>"Amen!" we cried, all three.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TALES_OF_MEDICAL_LIFE" id="TALES_OF_MEDICAL_LIFE"></a>TALES OF MEDICAL LIFE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>A PHYSIOLOGIST'S WIFE</h3> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was an unprecedented occurrence. During the twelve years that she had +kept house for him, his younger 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Those maids are very noisy," he remarked, as a clack of tongues sounded +in the distance.</p> + +<p>"It is Sarah," said his sister; "I shall speak about it."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I am not garrulous, John," said his sister.</p> + +<p>"No, Ada; in many respects you approach the superior or male type."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You were late this morning, John," she remarked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ada; I slept badly. Some little cerebral congestion, no doubt due +to over-stimulation of the centres of thought. I have been a little +disturbed in my mind."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Not Mrs. O'James?" cried Ada Grey, laying down her egg-spoon.</p> + +<p>"My dear, you have the feminine quality of receptivity very remarkably +developed. Mrs. O'James is the lady in question."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And you are engaged?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I am sure, John," she said, "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——"</p> + +<p>The Professor waved the suggestion away with a deprecating hand.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>His sister sighed.</p> + +<p>"You have no faith," she said.</p> + +<p>"I have faith in those great evolutionary forces which are leading the +human race to some unknown but elevated goal."</p> + +<p>"You believe in nothing."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, my dear Ada, I believe in the differentiation of +protoplasm."</p> + +<p>She shook her head sadly. It was the one subject upon which she ventured +to dispute her brother's infallibility.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien——" said the Professor sonorously.</p> + +<p>"Don't, John, don't!" cried Miss Ainslie Grey.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>He paused, but his sister sat silent, with bent head and flushed cheeks. +The little ebony cross rose and fell with her hurried breathings.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"He has not spoken to me," murmured the lady.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there are signs which are more subtle than speech," said her +brother, wagging his head. "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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What! won't you go in and see Mrs. Esdaile?" she asked, sweeping out +from under the shadow of the hawthorn.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I did not come to see Mrs. Esdaile," he answered, with no relaxation of +his cold and grave manner; "I came to see you."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Hale's <i>Matter and Life</i>."</p> + +<p>The Professor raised his thick eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Hale!" he said, and then again in a kind of whisper, "Hale!"</p> + +<p>"You differ from him?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"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.'"</p> + +<p>"I must read <i>Nature's Chronicle</i> to counteract his pernicious +influence," said Mrs. O'James, with a soft, cooing laugh.</p> + +<p><i>Nature's Chronicle</i> was one of the many books in which Professor +Ainslie Grey had enforced the negative doctrines of scientific +agnosticism.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>There was a pause in their talk as they paced up and down on the green, +velvet-like lawn in the genial sunshine.</p> + +<p>"Have you thought at all," he asked at last, "of the matter upon which I +spoke to you last night?"</p> + +<p>She said nothing, but walked by his side with her eyes averted and her +face aslant.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You believe in love, then?" she asked, with a twinkling, upward glance.</p> + +<p>"I am forced to."</p> + +<p>"And yet you can deny the soul?"</p> + +<p>"How far these questions are psychic and how far material is still <i>sub +judice</i>," said the Professor, with an air of toleration. "Protoplasm may +prove to be the physical basis of love as well as of life."</p> + +<p>"How inflexible you are!" she exclaimed; "you would draw love down to +the level of physics."</p> + +<p>"Or draw physics up to the level of love."</p> + +<p>"Come, that is much better," she cried, with her sympathetic laugh. +"That is really very pretty, and puts science in quite a delightful +light."</p> + +<p>Her eyes sparkled, and she tossed her chin with a pretty, wilful air of +a woman who is mistress of the situation.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'James looked startled.</p> + +<p>"Is that very serious?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It is gout," said the Professor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that all? It sounded much worse than that."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>He paused in his walk, and looked earnestly and expectantly down at her.</p> + +<p>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 <i>abandon</i> and recklessness, she held out her hand to her +companion.</p> + +<p>"I accept," she said.</p> + +<p>They were standing under the shadow of the hawthorn. He stooped gravely +down, and kissed her glove-covered fingers.</p> + +<p>"I trust that <i>you</i> may never have cause to regret your decision," he +said.</p> + +<p>"I trust that <i>you</i> never may," she cried, with a heaving breast.</p> + +<p>There were tears in her eyes, and her lips twitched with some strong +emotion.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But it is so dreadfully unromantic," said Mrs. O'James, with her old +twinkle.</p> + +<p>"Romance is the offspring of imagination and of ignorance. Where science +throws her calm, clear light there is happily no room for romance."</p> + +<p>"But is not love romance?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"It is certainly very fine weather," the Professor answered.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"The idea had not occurred to me, madam."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Professor, I have always the same complaint against you. A want of +<i>rapport</i> 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?"</p> + +<p>"I confess that I am not conscious of one, Mrs. Esdaile."</p> + +<p>"Or at the delicate tint of that background of leaves? See the rich +greens!"</p> + +<p>"Chlorophyll," murmured the Professor.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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 what we lack in quantity?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>He raised his hat and stalked slowly away among the laurel bushes.</p> + +<p>"He has no taste," said Mrs. Esdaile—"no eye for beauty."</p> + +<p>"On, the contrary," Mrs. O'James answered, with a saucy little jerk of +the chin. "He has just asked me to be his wife."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I'm in luck's way," he cried. "I wanted to see you."</p> + +<p>"Then come back into the library," said the Professor; "you must stay +and have lunch with us."</p> + +<p>The two men entered the hall, and the Professor led the way into his +private sanctum. He motioned his companion into an arm-chair.</p> + +<p>"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.'"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"She said Yes, then?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"The vermiform appendix——" began the Professor.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You must not truckle upon that point. You must be true to your +convictions; let there be no compromise there."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Sensuous—purely sensuous," said the Professor, rubbing his chin. +"Vague hereditary tendencies stirred into life by the stimulation of the +nasal and auditory nerves."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The Professor raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"This is news indeed," said he.</p> + +<p>"I married shortly after my arrival in Australia. Miss Thurston was her +name. I met her in society. It was a most unhappy match."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You are the best judge," he remarked; "but I should not think that it +was necessary to go into details."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>O'Brien drew his hand across his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Poor girl!" he cried. "God help me, I love her still. But I must go."</p> + +<p>"You will lunch with us?"</p> + +<p>"No, Professor; I have my packing still to do. I have already bade Miss +Grey adieu. In two months I shall see you again."</p> + +<p>"You will probably find me a married man."</p> + +<p>"Married!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have been thinking of it."</p> + +<p>"My dear Professor, let me congratulate you with all my heart. I had no +idea. Who is the lady?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I shall be married at the registrar's," he remarked; "I should strongly +recommend you to do the same."</p> + +<p>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 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.</p> + +<p>One foggy, drizzling morning they returned to Birchespool, for the next +day would reopen 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, 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.</p> + +<p>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 rearrival 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.</p> + +<p>"You see there have been changes," said the Professor.</p> + +<p>"So I heard. Miss Grey told me in her letters, and I read the notice in +the <i>British Medical Journal</i>. So it's really married you are. How +quickly and quietly you have managed it all!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And your research on Vallisneria?"</p> + +<p>"This matrimonial incident has interrupted it, but I have resumed my +classes, and we shall soon be quite in harness again."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The Professor shook his head.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>O'Brien smiled.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"She is at home now. Come into the morning-room. She will be glad to +make your acquaintance."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Jinny!" he gasped—"Jinny!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Try this sofa," said he.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"So, O'Brien," he said at last, "you have already made the acquaintance +of my wife!"</p> + +<p>"Your wife," cried his friend hoarsely. "She is no wife of yours. God +help me, she is <i>my</i> wife."</p> + +<p>The Professor stood rigidly upon the hearth-rug. His long, thin fingers +were intertwined, and his head had sunk a little forward. His two +companions had eyes only for each other.</p> + +<p>"Jinny!" said he.</p> + +<p>"James!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>She made no answer, but lay back among the cushions with her eyes still +fixed upon him.</p> + +<p>"Why do you not speak?"</p> + +<p>"Because you are right, James. I have treated you cruelly—shamefully. +But it is not as bad as you think."</p> + +<p>"You fled with De Horta."</p> + +<p>"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——"</p> + +<p>She stopped and gave a gasp for breath.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 to play the eavesdropper; but +as he stood, still hesitating, words fell upon his ear which struck him +rigid and motionless.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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 are. I thought too much of my work +and too little of my wife."</p> + +<p>The Professor heard the cooing, caressing laugh which he knew so well.</p> + +<p>"I shall go with you, James," she said.</p> + +<p>"And the Professor——?"</p> + +<p>"The poor Professor! But he will not mind much, James; he has no heart."</p> + +<p>"We must tell him our resolution."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But you—you——" stammered O'Brien.</p> + +<p>The Professor waved his hand.</p> + +<p>"Never trouble about me," he said.</p> + +<p>The woman gave a gasping cry.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>O'Brien hesitated with a hanging head.</p> + +<p>"I hardly dare offer you my hand," he said.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Your sister—"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"James, James!" she cried. "Don't you see that he is stricken to the +heart?"</p> + +<p>He turned her quietly away from him.</p> + +<p>"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 faring you anything you need. Now +go."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"It is difficult to give it a name," said one.</p> + +<p>"Very," said the other.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I don't think poor Grey was that sort of a man at all."</p> + +<p>"Let us call it cardiac, anyhow," said the other physician.</p> + +<p>So they did so.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>BEHIND THE TIMES</h3> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +wicker-work 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 the Fourth and even of +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 +anti-climax.</p> + +<p>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 his 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 newfangled 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.</p> + +<p>He always reads, as a duty, his weekly medical paper, so that he has a +general idea as to the advance of modern science. He persists in looking +upon it, however, 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.</p> + +<p>He is so very much behind the day that occasionally, as things move +round in their usual circle, he finds himself, to his own 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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, wind-beaten face has been the last earthly +impression which many a sufferer has carried into the unknown.</p> + +<p>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 +country-side. 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.</p> + +<p>"It is 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."</p> + +<p>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 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>She was back with an answer presently.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Winter will come round in an hour or so, sir, but he has just been +called in to attend Dr. Patterson."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>HIS FIRST OPERATION</h3> + + +<p>It was the first day of a 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.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," said the third year's man, "you have never seen an +operation?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"My nerves are not very strong, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>"Hum! Another glass of sherry for this gentleman. We are going to an +operation now, you know."</p> + +<p>The novice squared his shoulders and made a gallant attempt to look +unconcerned.</p> + +<p>"Nothing very bad—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes—pretty bad."</p> + +<p>"An—an amputation?"</p> + +<p>"No, it's a bigger affair than that."</p> + +<p>"I think—I think they must be expecting me at home."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, all right."</p> + +<p>The smile was not a success.</p> + +<p>"One more glass of sherry, then. Now come on or we shall be late. I want +you to be well in front."</p> + +<p>"Surely that is not necessary."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I should look as white."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 button-hole, and a note-book in +his hand, was passing from one to the other, whispering and writing.</p> + +<p>"Anything good?" asked the third year's man.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I missed it. But they'll come again, I suppose. What's up +with the old gentleman?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"This is grand," the senior man whispered; "you'll have a rare view of +it all."</p> + +<p>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 waterproofing covered half of it, and beneath stood a +large tin tray full of sawdust. On the farther 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Who are the two men at the table?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 woollen +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 bees-wax 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.</p> + +<p>"What ails her?" asked the novice.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The woman lay back upon the waterproofed 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He says, says he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you fly with me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You'll be mistress of the ice-cream van;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You'll be mistress of the——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Narrow squeak for the Government," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ten is enough."</p> + +<p>"They won't have ten long. They'd do better to resign before they are +driven to it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I should fight it out."</p> + +<p>"What's the use. They can't get past the committee, even if they get a +vote in the House. I was talking to——"</p> + +<p>"Patient's ready, sir," said the dresser.</p> + +<p>"Talking to M'Donald—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 hands 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?"</p> + +<p>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 swam 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"All right," cried the novice, sitting up and rubbing his eyes; "I'm +sorry to have made an ass of myself."</p> + +<p>"Well, so I should think," said his companion. "What on earth did you +faint about?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it. It was that operation."</p> + +<p>"What operation?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that cancer."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and then the three students burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<h3>THE THIRD GENERATION</h3> + + +<p>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 so many 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 a European reputation can afford to live where +he likes. In his particular branch, too, patients do not always consider +seclusion to be a disadvantage.</p> + +<p>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 yellow circles upon the glistening +cobblestones. The air was full of the sounds of 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.</p> + +<p>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 before.</p> + +<p>"Is the doctor in?"</p> + +<p>The man hesitated.</p> + +<p>"He has had a few friends to dinner, sir. He does not like to be +disturbed outside his usual hours, sir."</p> + +<p>"Tell him that I <i>must</i> 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 the case. "Sir Francis Norton is the name. Tell +him that Sir Francis Norton of Deane Park must see him at once."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 arm-chair +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 pipe stem, and "Caustic" outside upon +a red label. Thermometers, hypodermic syringes, bistouries and spatulas +were scattered thickly 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.</p> + +<p>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 formulæ scribbled +upon the labels of some 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 fireplace struck quite +painfully upon his ears. Yet, in spite of it, and in spite also of the +thick, old-fashioned, wooden partition walls, he could hear the 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 the ace +was against me?" The phrases came in little spurts, falling back into +the dull murmur of conversation. And then suddenly he heard a 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.</p> + +<p>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 frockcoat 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.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to have kept you waiting. It is a conflict of duties, you +perceive. A host to his guests and an adviser to his patient. But now I +am entirely at your disposal, Sir Francis. But, dear me, you are very +cold."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am cold."</p> + +<p>"And you are trembling all over. Tut, tut, this will never do. This +miserable night has chilled you. Perhaps some little stimulant——"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you. I would really rather not. And it is not the night which +has chilled me. I am frightened, doctor."</p> + +<p>The doctor half turned in his chair and patted the arch of the young +man's knee as he might the neck of a restless horse.</p> + +<p>"What, then?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the pale face with +the startled eyes.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Both legs?"</p> + +<p>"No, only one."</p> + +<p>"Suddenly?"</p> + +<p>"This morning."</p> + +<p>"Hum!" The doctor pouted his lips, and drew his finger and thumb down +the line of his chin. "Can you account for it?" he said briskly.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>A trace of sternness came into the large, brown eyes.</p> + +<p>"I need not point out to you that unless the most absolute +frankness——"</p> + +<p>The patient sprang from his chair.</p> + +<p>"So help me God, doctor," 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."</p> + +<p>He was a pitiful, half-tragic, and half-grotesque figure as he stood +with one trouser leg rolled to his 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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"My eyes have been a little weak."</p> + +<p>"Let me see your teeth!" He glanced at them, and again made the gentle +clicking sound of sympathy and disapprobation.</p> + +<p>"Now the 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The young baronet sank back in his chair and his chin fell forward upon +his chest. The doctor sprang to a side table and poured out a half 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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"God help me, I suspected it—but only to-day when my leg grew bad. My +father had a leg like this."</p> + +<p>"It was from him, then?"</p> + +<p>"No, from my grandfather. You have heard of Sir Rupert Norton, the great +Corinthian?"</p> + +<p>The doctor was a man of wide reading with a retentive memory. The name +brought back to him instantly 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 in some drunken +frolic he had espoused. 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"His symptoms were cutaneous, I understand."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Had you brothers or sisters?"</p> + +<p>"None, thank God!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But where's the justice of it, doctor?" cried the young man, springing +from the 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 +clenched hands in the air, the poor, impotent atom with his pinpoint of +brain caught in the whirl of the infinite.</p> + +<p>The doctor rose and placing his hands upon his shoulders he pressed him +back into his chair again.</p> + +<p>"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 Pope's +famous couplet sums the whole matter up, and from my heart, after fifty +years of varied experience, I can say that——"</p> + +<p>But the young baronet gave a cry of impatience and disgust.</p> + +<p>"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-belief. +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 man to realise it. But I've a +question to ask you, doctor. It's one on which my whole life must +depend."</p> + +<p>He writhed his fingers together in an agony of apprehension.</p> + +<p>"Speak out, my dear sir. I have every sympathy with you."</p> + +<p>"Do you think—do you think the poison has spent itself on me? Do you +think if I had children that they would suffer?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I am to be married on Tuesday," whispered the patient.</p> + +<p>It was Dr. Horace Selby's turn to be thrilled with horror. There were +not many situations which would yield such a sensation to his +well-seasoned nerves. He sat in silence while the babble of the +card-table broke in again upon them. "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.</p> + +<p>"How could you?" cried the doctor severely. "It was criminal."</p> + +<p>"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, Doctor Selby. You have seen or heard of such things before. +Give me some advice. I'm in your hands. It is all so sudden and +horrible, and I don't think I am strong enough to bear it."</p> + +<p>The doctor's heavy brows thickened into two straight lines and he bit +his nails in perplexity.</p> + +<p>"The marriage must not take place."</p> + +<p>"Then what am I to do?"</p> + +<p>"At all costs it must not take place."</p> + +<p>"And I must give her up?"</p> + +<p>"There can be no question about that!"</p> + +<p>The young man took out a pocket-book and drew from it a small +photograph, holding it out towards the doctor. The firm face softened as +he looked at it.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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 know. And all the world knows it. How +can I put such a public affront upon her? It would be monstrous."</p> + +<p>"None the less it must be done. My dear sir, there is no way out of it."</p> + +<p>"You would have me simply write brutally and break the engagement at +this last moment without a reason? I tell you I couldn't do it."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The young baronet shook his head.</p> + +<p>"My personal honour is as yet unstained," said he. "I have little else +left, but that at least I will preserve."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, it's a nice dilemma and the choice lies with you."</p> + +<p>"Have you no other suggestion?"</p> + +<p>"You don't happen to have property in Australia?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"But you have capital?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then you could buy some—to-morrow morning, for example. A thousand +mining shares would do. 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."</p> + +<p>"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 there is no alternative."</p> + +<p>The doctor shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"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," said he 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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 +mannikin's side, and led him silently up the lonely street.</p> + +<p>Doctor Horace Selby heard again of his patient next morning and rather +earlier than he had expected. A paragraph in the <i>Daily News</i> 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:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"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 a most shocking character, and he expired while being +conveyed to the hospital. An examination of his pocket-book and +card-case 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."</p></blockquote> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>THE CURSE OF EVE</h3> + + +<p>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 smug 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.</p> + +<p>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 exultation when the gentleman who was going to +India had bought ten dozen shirts and an incredible number of collars, +and she had been 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Doctor 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 scarves 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.</p> + +<p>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. Johnson'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.</p> + +<p>Fortunately he had not sent the cab away, and he was soon back at +Bridport Place. Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>"If you please, doctor, I've come for you," he cried; "the wife was +taken bad at six o'clock."</p> + +<p>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 Doctor Miles threw +his umbrella into the rack, jerked off his hat with a somewhat peevish +gesture, and pushed Johnson back into the room.</p> + +<p>"Let's see! You <i>did</i> engage me, didn't you?" he asked in no very +cordial voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, doctor, last November. Johnson, the outfitter, you know, in the +New North Road."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I don't——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, of course, it's your first. You'll know more about it next time."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Peyton said it was time you were there, sir."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"We could have something cooked for you—something hot and a cup of +tea."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You've taken your time," said his mother-in-law reproachfully, looking +down the stairs as he entered.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it!" he gasped. "Is it over?"</p> + +<p>"Over! She's got to be worse, poor dear, before she can be better. +Where's Doctor Miles?"</p> + +<p>"He's coming after he's had dinner."</p> + +<p>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 fall 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.</p> + +<p>"Who is that for, Jane?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"For the mistress, Mr. Johnson. She says she would fancy it."</p> + +<p>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 +lighthearted 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.</p> + +<p>"Well, how is she?" he asked genially.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's very much better," said Johnson, with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, that's bad!" said the doctor. "Perhaps it will do if I look in +on my morning round?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 some one came 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.</p> + +<p>"That's better," said he, pausing with his hand upon the door. "You look +pale, Mr. Johnson."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, sir, not at all," he answered deprecatingly, mopping his brow +with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"There is no immediate cause for alarm," said Doctor Miles. "The case is +not all that we could wish it. Still we will hope for the best."</p> + +<p>"Is there danger, sir?" gasped Johnson.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Did his wife get through it, doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, she did very well. Hullo! Hullo!"</p> + +<p>He slanted his ear to the ceiling with a questioning face, and then +darted swiftly from the room.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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 any one whom +you might suggest."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Smith or Hawley would come for two guineas," said he. "But I think +Pritchard of the City Road is the best man."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, bring the best man," cried Johnson.</p> + +<p>"Pritchard would want three guineas. He is a senior man, you see."</p> + +<p>"I'd give him all I have if he would pull her through. Shall I run for +him?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I can't stand shivering here all night," cried the voice. "Say who you +are and what you want or I shut the tube."</p> + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"I want you to come with me to meet Doctor Miles at a confinement at +once."</p> + +<p>"How far?" shrieked the irascible voice.</p> + +<p>"The New North Road, Hoxton."</p> + +<p>"My consultation fee is three guineas, payable at the time."</p> + +<p>"All right," shouted Johnson. "You are to bring a bottle of A.C.E. +mixture with you."</p> + +<p>"All right! Wait a bit!"</p> + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"Mind you take your cravat, John," and he impatiently growled something +over his shoulder in reply.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 bedroom, 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Is she dead?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Doing well," answered the doctor.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Can I go up?"</p> + +<p>"In a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure, doctor. I'm very—I'm very——" he grew inarticulate. "Here +are your three guineas, Doctor Pritchard. I wish they were three +hundred."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said the senior man, and they laughed as they shook hands.</p> + +<p>Johnson opened the shop door for them and heard their talk as they stood +for an instant outside.</p> + +<p>"Looked nasty at one time."</p> + +<p>"Very glad to have your help."</p> + +<p>"Delighted, I'm sure. Won't you step round and have a cup of coffee?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I'm expecting another case."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Can I come up?" he cried, and then, without waiting for an answer, he +took the steps three at a time.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Kiss it, Robert!" cried the grandmother. "Kiss your son!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Thank God it is over! Lucy, dear, it was dreadful!"</p> + +<p>"But I'm so happy now. I never was so happy in my life."</p> + +<p>Her eyes were fixed upon the brown bundle.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't talk," said Mrs. Peyton.</p> + +<p>"But don't leave me," whispered his wife.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>A MEDICAL DOCUMENT</h3> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It is after one of the quarterly dinners of the Midland Branch of the +British Medical Association. Twenty coffee cups, a dozen 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Ah, puerperal!" throws in the other, knocking the curved grey ash from +his cigar. "But you had some case in your mind, Foster."</p> + +<p>"Well, there was one only 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 <i>he</i> 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."</p> + +<p>"Don't you find it a very wearing branch of the profession?" asks Foster +after a pause.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, it was the fear of it that drove me into lunacy work."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"No joke that in general practice," says the alienist.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>is</i> 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 <i>your</i> nerve, Manson."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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 cheek-bones, 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."</p> + +<p>"That's creepy," says Doctor 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 the 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."</p> + +<p>"That's the worst of these medical stories," sighs the outsider. "They +never seem to have an end."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Faith and hope," murmurs the general practitioner.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You were talking about cases," says the outsider, jerking the ink down +into his stylographic pen.</p> + +<p>"Well, take a common complaint which kills many thousands every year, +like G.P. for instance."</p> + +<p>"What's G.P.?"</p> + +<p>"General practitioner," suggests the surgeon with a grin.</p> + +<p>"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 friends 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."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" cries the outsider. "My own lips tremble. I often slur +my words. I believe I've got it myself."</p> + +<p>Three little chuckles come from the front of the fire.</p> + +<p>"There's the danger of a little medical knowledge to the layman."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Where does the parotid come in?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's the last wisdom tooth coming through!"</p> + +<p>"And what would be the end of that young farmer?" asks the outsider.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"By the way," says the alienist, "did I ever tell you about the first +certificate I ever signed? I stood as near ruin then as a man could go."</p> + +<p>"What was it, then?"</p> + +<p>"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 +forms. '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 takes 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.</p> + +<p>"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 when 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 <i>Anatomy</i>. He had the man laid by the steward upon the cabin +table, and with a picture of the 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 Yard at this day.</p> + +<p>"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 'atchway!' 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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"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 any one to 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, belongs to the +upper part of the body. The novelist never strikes below the belt."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"I had a case some little time ago which was out of the ordinary," says +the surgeon. "There was 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 +every one 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 God's 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."</p> + +<p>"And did you stop it?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Dear! dear! dear!" cries the general practitioner, with that kindly +softening of the eyes which has 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 4,000 feet or so, his +symptoms became terrible. She could come up about 2,500, 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."</p> + +<p>"And one at last died," says the outsider.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Only taking a note or two of your talk."</p> + +<p>The three medical men laugh as they walk towards their overcoats.</p> + +<p>"Why, we've done nothing but talk shop," says the general practitioner. +"What possible interest can the public take in that?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE SURGEON TALKS</h3> + + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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. '<i>De mortuis</i>,' 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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"When it was over he came into my room and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"'Just run over my reflexes, Smith,' said he.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'So,' said he, 'it was not intercostal neuralgia after all.'</p> + +<p>"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 the 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.</p> + +<p>"'Better put this thing straight at once,' said he. 'I must make some +fresh arrangements. May I use your paper and envelopes?'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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, æt. 45.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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 the +narrow table, with a mackintosh 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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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 +clapped 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 had 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 any one can vouch who is told, in the midst of his seasickness, 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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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, 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 <i>pince-nez</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"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 wicker-work 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE DOCTORS OF HOYLAND</h3> + + +<p>Doctor 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 Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>Doctor 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 <i>Archives</i> and +the professional journals.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>débris</i> next morning. His love for his work was the one fanaticism +which found a place in his dry, precise nature.</p> + +<p>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 practiced 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.</p> + +<p>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. Doctor 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 Doctor +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. Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>But Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>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. Doctor Ripley was pedantically exact on such points, +and yet he deliberately drove over next day and called upon Doctor +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.</p> + +<p>The house was neat and well appointed, and Doctor 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 Doctor +Ripley, in the corner. A bookcase full of ponderous volumes in French +and German, paper-covered for the most part, and varying in tint from +the shell to the yolk 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 <i>pince-nez</i> +in her left hand, and the doctor's card in her right.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Doctor Ripley?" said she.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, madam?" returned the visitor. "Your husband is perhaps +out?"</p> + +<p>"I am not married," said she simply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon! I meant the doctor—Dr. Verrinder Smith."</p> + +<p>"I am Doctor Verrinder Smith."</p> + +<p>Doctor Ripley was so surprised that he dropped his hat and forgot to +pick it up again.</p> + +<p>"What!" he gasped, "the Lee Hopkins prizeman! You!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to disappoint you," said the lady drily.</p> + +<p>"You certainly have surprised me," he answered, picking up his hat.</p> + +<p>"You are not among our champions, then?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that the movement has my approval."</p> + +<p>"And why?"</p> + +<p>"I should much prefer not to discuss it."</p> + +<p>"But I am sure you will answer a lady's question."</p> + +<p>"Ladies are in danger of losing their privileges when they usurp the +place of the other sex. They cannot claim both."</p> + +<p>"Why should a woman not earn her bread by her brains?"</p> + +<p>Doctor Ripley felt irritated by the quiet manner in which the lady +cross-questioned him.</p> + +<p>"I should much prefer not to be led into a discussion, Miss Smith."</p> + +<p>"Doctor Smith," she interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Well, Doctor 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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that you are begging the question," said she. "Of +course, if it makes women masculine that <i>would</i> be a considerable +deterioration."</p> + +<p>It was a neat little counter, and Doctor Ripley, like a pinked fencer, +bowed his acknowledgment.</p> + +<p>"I must go," said he.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that we cannot come to some more friendly conclusion since +we are to be neighbours," she remarked.</p> + +<p>He bowed again, and took a step towards the door.</p> + +<p>"It was a singular coincidence," she continued, "that at the instant +that you called I was reading your paper on 'Locomotor Ataxia,' in the +<i>Lancet</i>."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said he drily.</p> + +<p>"I thought it was a very able monograph."</p> + +<p>"You are very good."</p> + +<p>"But the views which you attribute to Professor Pitres, of Bordeaux, +have been repudiated by him."</p> + +<p>"I have his pamphlet of 1890," said Doctor Ripley angrily.</p> + +<p>"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——"</p> + +<p>Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 régime 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 Doctor Verrinder Smith was +known, and in two she was famous.</p> + +<p>Occasionally, Doctor Ripley met her as he drove upon his rounds. She had +started a high dog-cart, 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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. Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Compound!" he groaned. "A three months' job," and fainted.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, doctor," said she soothingly. "I am so sorry about it. +You can have Doctor 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."</p> + +<p>"The groom has gone for help," groaned the sufferer.</p> + +<p>"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——"</p> + +<p>Doctor 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 Doctor +Verrinder Smith looking down at him.</p> + +<p>"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 Doctor Horton in the morning?"</p> + +<p>"I should prefer that you should continue the case," said Doctor 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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>"What! You are pestered with one of those!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what I should have done without her."</p> + +<p>"I've no doubt she's an excellent nurse."</p> + +<p>"She knows her work as well as you or I."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You think there is nothing to be said on the other side?"</p> + +<p>"Good heavens! do you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know. It struck me during the night that we may have been +a little narrow in our views."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I would rather that you did not undo it," said the patient. "I have her +assurance that it is all right."</p> + +<p>Brother William was deeply shocked.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I should prefer that you did not touch it," said the patient firmly, +and Doctor William went back to London that evening in a huff.</p> + +<p>The lady, who had heard of his coming, was much surprised on learning of +his departure.</p> + +<p>"We had a difference upon a point of professional etiquette," said +Doctor James, and it was all the explanation he would vouchsafe.</p> + +<p>For two long months Doctor 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Why, then?"</p> + +<p>"Over this woman question. I used to think that a woman must inevitably +lose something of her charm if she took up such studies."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't think they are necessarily unsexed, then?" she cried, +with a mischievous smile.</p> + +<p>"Please don't recall my idiotic expression."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What, and unite the practices?" said she.</p> + +<p>He started in pain and anger.</p> + +<p>"Surely you do not attribute any such base motive to me!" he cried. "I +love you as unselfishly as ever a woman was loved."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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 intend 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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>CRABBE'S PRACTICE</h3> + + +<p>I wonder how many men remember Tom Waterhouse Crabbe, student of +medicine in this city. He was a man whom it was not easy to forget if +you had once come across him. Geniuses are more commonly read about than +seen, but one could not speak five minutes with Crabbe without +recognising that he had inherited some touch of that subtle, indefinable +essence. There was a bold originality in his thought, and a convincing +earnestness in his mode of expressing it, which pointed to something +higher than mere cleverness. He studied spasmodically and irregularly, +yet he was one of the first men—certainly the most independent +thinker—of his year. Poor Crabbe—there was something delightfully +original even in his mistakes. I can remember how he laboriously +explained to his examiner that the Spanish fly <i>grew</i> in Spain. And how +he gave five drops of Sabin oil credit for producing that state which it +is usually believed to rectify.</p> + +<p>Crabbe was not at all the type of man whom we usually associate with the +word "genius." He was not pale nor thin, neither was his hair of +abnormal growth. On the contrary he was a powerfully built, +square-shouldered fellow, full of vitality, with a voice like a bull and +a laugh that could be heard across the meadows. A muscular Christian +too, and one of the best Rugby forwards in Edinburgh.</p> + +<p>I remember my first meeting with Crabbe. It gave me a respect both for +his cool reasoning powers and for his courage. It was at one of the +Bulgarian Atrocity meetings held in Edinburgh in '78. The hall was +densely packed and the ventilation defective, so that I was not sorry to +find that owing to my lateness I was unable to get any place, and had to +stand in the doorway. Leaning against the wall there I could both enjoy +the cool air and hear the invectives which speaker after speaker was +hurling at the Conservative ministry. The audience seemed +enthusiastically unanimous. A burst of cheering hailed every argument +and sarcasm. There was not one dissentient voice. The speaker paused to +moisten his lips, and there was a silence over the hall. Then a clear +voice rose from the middle of it: "All very fine, but what did +Gladstone——" There was a howl of execration and yells of "Turn him +out!" But the voice was still audible. "What did Gladstone do in '63?" +it demanded. "Turn him out. Show him out of the window! Put him out!" +There was a perfect hurricane of threats and abuse. Men sprang upon the +benches shaking their sticks and peering over each other's shoulders to +get a glimpse of the daring Conservative. "What did Gladstone do in +'63?" roared the voice; "I insist upon being answered." There was +another howl of execration, a great swaying of the crowd, and an eddy in +the middle of it. Then the mass of people parted and a man was borne out +kicking and striking, and after a desperate resistance was precipitated +down the stairs.</p> + +<p>As the meeting became somewhat monotonous after this little +divertisement, I went down into the street to cool myself. There was my +inquisitive friend leaning up against a lamp-post with his coat torn to +shreds and a pipe in his mouth. Recognising him by his cut as being a +medical student, I took advantage of the freemasonry which exists +between members of that profession.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," I said, "you are a medical, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said; "Thomas Crabbe, a 'Varsity man."</p> + +<p>"My name is Barton," I said. "Pardon my curiosity, but would you mind +telling me what Gladstone <i>did</i> do in '63?"</p> + +<p>"My dear chap," said Crabbe, taking my arm and marching up the street +with me, "I haven't the remotest idea in the world. You see, I was +confoundedly hot and I wanted a smoke, and there seemed no chance of +getting out, for I was jammed up right in the middle of the hall, so I +thought I'd just make them carry me out; and I did—not a bad idea, was +it? If you have nothing better to do, come up to my digs and have some +supper."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said I; and that was the foundation of my friendship with +Thomas Crabbe.</p> + +<p>Crabbe took his degree a year before I did, and went down to a large +port in England with the intention of setting up there. A brilliant +career seemed to lie before him, for besides his deep knowledge of +medicine, acquired in the most practical school in the world, he had +that indescribable manner which gains a patient's confidence at once. It +is curious how seldom the two are united. That charming doctor, my dear +madam, who pulled the young Charley through the measles so nicely, and +had such a pleasant manner and such a clever face, was a noted duffer at +college and the laughing-stock of his year. While poor little Doctor +Grinder whom you snubbed so, and who seemed so nervous and didn't know +where to put his hands, he won a gold medal for original research and +was as good a man as his professors. After all, it is generally the +outside case, not the inside works, which is noticed in this world.</p> + +<p>Crabbe went down with his young degree, and a still younger wife, to +settle in this town, which we will call Brisport. I was acting as +assistant to a medical man in Manchester, and heard little from my +former friend, save that he had set up in considerable style, and was +making a bid for a high-class practice at once. I read one most deep and +erudite paper in a medical journal, entitled "Curious Development of a +Discopherous Bone in the Stomach of a Duck," which emanated from his +pen, but beyond this and some remarks on the embryology of fishes he +seemed strangely quiet.</p> + +<p>One day to my surprise I received a telegram from Mrs. Crabbe begging me +to run down to Brisport and see her husband, as he was far from well. +Having obtained leave of absence from my principal, I started by the +next train, seriously anxious about my friend. Mrs. Crabbe met me at the +station. She told me Tom was getting very much broken down by continued +anxiety; the expenses of keeping up his establishment were heavy, and +patients were few and far between. He wished my advice and knowledge of +practical work to guide him in this crisis.</p> + +<p>I certainly found Crabbe altered very much for the worse. He looked +gaunt and cadaverous, and much of his old reckless joyousness had left +him, though he brightened up wonderfully on seeing an old friend.</p> + +<p>After dinner the three of us held a solemn council of war, in which he +laid before me all his difficulties. "What in the world am I to do, +Barton?" he said. "If I could make myself known it would be all right, +but no one seems to look at my door-plate, and the place is overstocked +with doctors. I believe they think I am a D.D. I wouldn't mind if these +other fellows were good men, but they are not. They are all antiquated +old fogies at least half a century behind the day. Now there is old +Markham, who lives in that brick house over there and does most of the +practice in the town. I'll swear he doesn't know the difference between +locomotor ataxia and a hypodermic syringe, but he is known, so they +flock into his surgery in a manner which is simply repulsive. And +Davidson down the road, he is only an L.S.A. Talked about epispastic +paralysis at the Society the other night—confused it with liquor +epispasticus, you know. Yet that fellow makes a pound to my shilling."</p> + +<p>"Get your name known and write," said I.</p> + +<p>"But what on earth am I to write about?" asked Crabbe. "If a man has no +cases, how in the world is he to describe them? Help yourself and pass +the bottle."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you invent a case just to raise the wind?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bad idea," said Crabbe thoughtfully. "By the way, did you see my +'Discopherous Bone in a Duck's Stomach'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it seemed rather good."</p> + +<p>"Good, I believe you! Why, man, it was a domino which the old duck had +managed to gorge itself with. It was a perfect godsend. Then I wrote +about embryology of fishes because I knew nothing about it and reasoned +that ninety-nine men in a hundred would be in the same boat. But as to +inventing whole cases, it seems rather daring, does it not?"</p> + +<p>"A desperate disease needs desperate remedies," said I. "You remember +old Hobson at college. He writes once a year to the British Medical and +asks if any correspondent can tell him how much it costs to keep a horse +in the country. And then he signs himself in the Medical Register as +'The contributor of several unostentatious queries and remarks to +scientific papers!'"</p> + +<p>It was quite a treat to hear Crabbe laugh with his old student guffaw. +"Well, old man," he said, "we'll talk it over to-morrow. We mustn't be +selfish and forget that you are a visitor here. Come along out, and see +the beauties (save the mark!) of Brisport." So saying he donned a +funereal coat, a pair of spectacles, and a hat with a desponding brim, +and we spent the remainder of the evening roaming about and discussing +mind and matter.</p> + +<p>We had another council of war next day. It was a Sunday, and as we sat +in the window, smoking our pipes and watching the crowded street, we +brooded over many plans for gaining notoriety.</p> + +<p>"I've done Bob Sawyer's dodge," said Tom despondingly. "I never go to +church without rushing out in the middle of the sermon, but no one knows +who I am, so it is no good. I had a nice slide in front of the door last +winter for three weeks, and used to give it a polish up after dusk every +night. But there was only one man ever fell on it, and he actually +limped right across the road to Markham's surgery. Wasn't that hard +lines?"</p> + +<p>"Very hard indeed," said I.</p> + +<p>"Something might be done with orange peel," continued Tom, "but it looks +so awfully bad to have the whole pavement yellow with peel in front of a +doctor's house."</p> + +<p>"It certainly does," I agreed.</p> + +<p>"There was one fellow came in with a cut head one night," said Tom, "and +I sewed him up, but he had forgotten his purse. He came back in a week +to have the stitches taken out, but without the money. That man is going +about to this day, Jack, with half a yard of my catgut in him—and in +him it'll stay until I see the coin."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't we get up some incident," said I, "which would bring your name +really prominently before the public?"</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, that's exactly what I want. If I could get my name into +the <i>Brisport Chronicle</i> it would be worth five hundred a year to me. +There's a family connection, you know, and people only want to realise +that I am here. But how am I to do it unless by brawling in the street +or by increasing my family? Now, there was the excitement about the +discopherous bone. If Huxley or some of these fellows had taken the +matter up it might have been the making of me. But they took it all in +with a disgusting complacency as if it was the most usual thing in the +world and dominoes were the normal food of ducks. I'll tell you what +I'll do," he continued, moodily eyeing his fowls. "I'll puncture the +floors of their fourth ventricles and present them to Markham. You know +that makes them ravenous, and they'd eat him out of house and home in +time. Eh, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Thomas," said I, "you want your name in the papers—is that +it?"</p> + +<p>"That's about the state of the case."</p> + +<p>"Well, by Jove, you shall have it."</p> + +<p>"Eh? Why? How?"</p> + +<p>"There's a pretty considerable crowd of people outside, isn't there, +Tom?" I continued. "They are coming out of church, aren't they? If there +was an accident now it would make some noise."</p> + +<p>"I say, you're not going to let rip among them with a shot gun, are you, +in order to found a practice for me?"</p> + +<p>"No, not exactly. But how would this read in tomorrow's +<i>Chronicle</i>?—'Painful occurrence in George Street.—As the congregation +were leaving George Street Cathedral after the morning service, they +were horrified to see a handsome, fashionably dressed gentleman stagger +and fall senseless upon the pavement. He was taken up and carried +writhing in terrible convulsions into the surgery of the well-known +practitioner Doctor Crabbe, who had been promptly upon the spot. We are +happy to state that the fit rapidly passed off, and that, owing to the +skilful attention which he received, the gentleman, who is a +distinguished visitor in our city, was able to regain his hotel and is +now rapidly becoming convalescent.' How would that do, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Splendid, Jack—splendid!"</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy, I'm your fashionably dressed stranger, and I promise you +they won't carry me into Markham's."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, you are a treasure—you won't mind my bleeding you?"</p> + +<p>"Bleeding me, confound you! Yes, I do very much mind."</p> + +<p>"Just opening a little vein," pleaded Tom.</p> + +<p>"Not a capillary," said I. "Now, look here; I'll throw up the whole +business unless you give me your word to behave yourself. I don't draw +the line at brandy."</p> + +<p>"Very well, brandy be it," grumbled Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm off," said I. "I'll go into the fit against your garden +gate."</p> + +<p>"All right, old man."</p> + +<p>"By the way, what sort of a fit would you like? I could give you either +an epileptic or an apoplectic easily, but perhaps you'd like something +more ornate—a catalepsy or a trade spasm, maybe—with miner's nystagmus +or something of that kind?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit till I think," said Tom, and he sat puffing at his pipe for +five minutes. "Sit down again, Jack," he continued. "I think we could do +something better than this. You see, a fit isn't a very deadly thing, +and if I did bring you through one there would be no credit in it. If we +are going to work this thing, we may as well work it well. We can only +do it once. It wouldn't do for the same fashionably dressed stranger to +be turning up a second time. People would begin to smell a rat."</p> + +<p>"So they would," said I; "but hang it, you can't expect me to tumble off +the cathedral spire, in order that you may hold an inquest on my +remains! I You may command me in anything reasonable, however. What +shall it be?"</p> + +<p>Tom seemed lost in thought. "Can you swim?" he said presently.</p> + +<p>"Fairly well."</p> + +<p>"You could keep yourself afloat for five minutes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I could do that."</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid of water?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not much afraid of anything."</p> + +<p>"Then come out," said Tom, "and we'll go over the ground."</p> + +<p>I couldn't get one word out of him as to his intentions, so I trotted +along beside him, wondering what in the wide world he was going to do. +Our first stoppage was at a small dock which is crossed by a swinging +iron bridge. He hailed an amphibious man with top-boots. "Do you keep +rowing-boats and let them out?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the man.</p> + +<p>"Then good day," and to the boatman's profound and audible disgust we +set off at once in the other direction.</p> + +<p>Our next stoppage was at the Jolly Mariner's Arms. Did they keep beds? +Yes, they kept beds. We then proceeded to the chemist's. Did he keep a +galvanic battery? Once again the answer was in the affirmative, and with +a satisfied smile Tom Crabbe headed for home once more, leaving some +very angry people behind him.</p> + +<p>That evening over a bowl of punch he revealed his plan—and the council +of three revised it, modified it, and ended by adopting it, with the +immediate result that I at once changed my quarters to the Brisport +Hotel.</p> + +<p>I was awakened next day by the sun streaming in at my bedroom window. It +was a glorious morning. I sprang out of bed and looked at my watch. It +was nearly nine o'clock. "Only an hour," I muttered, "and nearly a mile +to walk," and proceeded to dress with all the haste I could. "Well," I +soliloquised as I sharpened my razor, "if old Tom Crabbe doesn't get his +name in the papers to-day, it isn't my fault. I wonder if any friend +would do as much for me!" I finished my toilet, swallowed a cup of +coffee and sallied out.</p> + +<p>Brisport seemed unusually lively this morning. The streets were crowded +with people. I wormed my way down Waterloo Street through the old Square +and past Crabbe's house. The cathedral bells were chiming ten o'clock as +I reached the above-mentioned little dock with the iron swinging bridge. +A man was standing on the bridge leaning over the balustrades. There was +no mistaking the heart-broken hat rim and the spectacles of Thomas +Waterhouse Crabbe, M.B.</p> + +<p>I passed him without sign of recognition, dawdled a little on the quay, +and then sauntered down to the boathouse. Our friend of yesterday was +standing at the door with a short pipe in his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Could I have a boat for an hour?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He beamed all over. "One minute, sir," he said, "an' I'll get the +sculls. Would you want me to row you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you'd better," I replied.</p> + +<p>He bustled about, and in a short time managed to launch a leaky-looking +old tub, into which he stepped, while I squatted down in the sheets.</p> + +<p>"Take me round the docks," I said. "I want to have a look at the +shipping."</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye, sir," said he, and away we went, and paddled about the docks +for the best part of an hour. At the end of that time we turned back and +pulled up to the little quay from which he had started. It was past +eleven now and the place was crowded with people. Half Brisport seemed +to have concentrated round the iron bridge. The melancholy hat was still +visible.</p> + +<p>"Shall I pull in, sir?" asked the boatman.</p> + +<p>"Give me the sculls," said I. "I want a bit of exercise—let us change +places," and I stood up.</p> + +<p>"Take care, sir!" yelled the boatman as I gave a stagger. "Look out!" +and he made a frantic grab at me, but too late, for with a melodramatic +scream I reeled and fell over into the Brisport dock.</p> + +<p>I hardly realised what it was I was going to do until I had done it. It +was not a pleasant feeling to have the thick, clammy water closing over +one's head. I struck the bottom with my feet, and shot up again to the +surface. The air seemed alive with shouts. "Heave a rope!" "Where's a +boat-hook!" "Catch him!" "There he is!" The boatman managed to hit me me +a smart blow on the head with something, an oar, I fancy, and I went +down again, but not before I had got my lungs well filled with air. I +came up again and my top-booted friend seized me by the hair of my head +as if he would tear my scalp off. "Don't struggle!" he yelled, "and I'll +save you yet." But I shook him off, and took another plunge. There was +no resisting him next time, however, for he got a boat-hook into my +collar, and though I kept my head under water as long as possible I was +ignominiously hauled to land.</p> + +<p>There I lay on the hard stones of the quay, feeling very much inclined +to laugh, but looking, no doubt, very blue and ghastly. "He's gone, poor +chap!" said some one. "Send for a doctor." "Run, run to Markham." "Quite +dead." "Turn him upside down." "Feel his pulse." "Slap him on the back."</p> + +<p>"Stop," said a solemn voice—"stop! Can I be of any assistance? I am a +medical man. What has occurred?"</p> + +<p>"A man drowned," cried a score of voices. "Stand back, make a ring—room +for the doctor!"</p> + +<p>"My name is Doctor Crabbe. Dear me, poor young gentleman! Drop his +hand," he roared at a man who was making for my pulse. "I tell you in +such a state the least pressure or impediment to the arterial +circulation might prove fatal."</p> + +<p>To save my life I couldn't help giving a very audible inward chuckle at +Tom's presence of mind. There was a murmur of surprise among the crowd. +Tom solemnly took off his hat. "The death rattle!" he whispered. "The +young soul has flown—yet perchance science may yet recall it. Bear him +up to the tavern."</p> + +<p>A shutter was brought, I was solemnly hoisted on to the top of it, and +the melancholy cortège passed along the quay, the corpse being really +the most cheerful member of the company.</p> + +<p>We got to the Mariner's Arms and I was stripped and laid in the best +bed. The news of the accident seemed to have spread, for there was a +surging crowd in the street, and the staircase was thronged with people. +Tom would only admit about a dozen of the more influential of the +townspeople into the room, but issued bulletins out of the window every +five minutes to the crowd below.</p> + +<p>"Quite dead," I heard him roar. "Respiration has ceased—no +pulsation—but we still persevere, it is our duty."</p> + +<p>"Shall I bring brandy?" said the landlady.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and towels, and a hip bath and a basin—but the brandy first."</p> + +<p>This sentiment met with the hearty approbation of the corpse.</p> + +<p>"Why, he's drinking it," said the landlady, as she applied the glass to +my lips.</p> + +<p>"Merely an instance of a reflex automatic action," said Tom. "My good +woman, any corpse will drink brandy if you only apply it to the +glossopharyngeal tract. Stand aside and we will proceed to try Marshall +Hall's method of resuscitation."</p> + +<p>The citizens stood round in a solemn ring, while Tom stripped off his +coat and, climbing on the bed, proceeded to roll me about in a manner +which seemed to dislocate every bone in my body.</p> + +<p>"Hang it, man, stop!" I growled, but he only paused to make a dart for +the window and yell out "No sign of life," and then fell upon me with +greater energy than ever. "We will now try Sylvestre's method," he said, +when the perspiration was fairly boiling out of him; and with that he +seized me again, and performed a series of evolutions even more +excruciating than the first. "It is hopeless!" he said at last, stopping +and covering my head reverently with the bed-clothes. "Send for the +coroner! He has gone to a better land. Here is my card," he continued to +an inspector of police who had arrived. "Doctor Crabbe of George Street. +You will see that the matter is accurately reported. Poor young man!" +And Tom drew his handkerchief across his eyes and walked towards the +door, while a groan of sympathy rose from the crowd outside.</p> + +<p>He had his hand upon the handle when a thought seemed to strike him, and +he turned back. "There is yet a possible hope," he said, "we have not +tried the magical effects of electricity—that subtle power, next of kin +to nervous force. Is there a chemist's near?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, doctor, there's Mr. McLagan just round the corner."</p> + +<p>"Then run! run! A human life trembles in the balance—get his strongest +battery, quick!" And away went half the crowd racing down the street and +tumbling over each other in the effort to be first at Mr. McLagan's. +They came back very red and hot, and one of them bore a shining brown +mahogany box in his arms which contained the instrument in question.</p> + +<p>"Now, gentlemen," said Tom, "I believe I may say that I am the first +practitioner in Great Britain who has applied electricity to this use. +In my student days I have seen the learned Rokilansky of Vienna employ +it in some such way. I apply the negative pole over the solar plexus, +while the positive I place on the inner side of the patella. I have seen +it produce surprising effects; it may again in this case."</p> + +<p>It certainly did. Whether it was an accident or whether Tom's innate +reckless devilry got the better of him I cannot say. He himself always +swore that it was an accident, but at any rate he sent the strongest +current of a most powerful battery rattling and crashing through my +system. I gave one ear-splitting yell and landed with a single bound +into the middle of the room. I was charged with electricity like a +Leyden jar. My very hair bristled with it.</p> + +<p>"You confounded idiot!" I shouted, shaking my fist in Tom's face. "Isn't +it enough to dislocate every bone in my body with your ridiculous +resuscitations without ruining my constitution with this thing?" and I +gave a vicious kick at the mahogany box. Never was there such a +stampede! The inspector of police and the correspondent of the +<i>Chronicle</i> sprang down the staircase, followed by the twelve +respectable citizens. The landlady crawled under the bed. A lodger who +was nursing her baby while she conversed with a neighbour in the street +below let the child drop upon her friend's head. In fact Tom might have +founded the nucleus of a practice there and then. As it was, his usual +presence of mind carried him through. "A miracle!" he yelled from the +window. "A miracle! Our friend has been brought back to us; send for a +cab." And then <i>sotto voce</i>, "For goodness' sake, Jack, behave like a +Christian and crawl into bed again. Remember the landlady is in the room +and don't go prancing about in your shirt."</p> + +<p>"Hang the landlady," said I, "I feel like a lightning conductor—you've +ruined me!"</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow," cried Tom, once more addressing the crowd, "he is alive, +but his intellect is irretrievably affected. He thinks he is a lightning +conductor. Make way for the cab. That's right! Now help me to lead him +in. He is out of all danger now. He can dress at his hotel. If any of +you have any information to give which may throw light upon this case my +address is 81 George Street. Remember, Doctor Crabbe, 81 George Street. +Good day, kind friends, good-bye!" And with that he bundled me into the +cab to prevent my making any further disclosures, and drove off amid the +enthusiastic cheers of the admiring crowd.</p> + +<p>I could not stay in Brisport long enough to see the effect of my <i>coup +d'état</i>. Tom gave us a champagne supper that night, and the fun was fast +and furious, but in the midst of it a telegram from my principal was +handed in ordering me to return to Manchester by the next train. I +waited long enough to get an early copy of the <i>Brisport Chronicle</i>, and +beguiled the tedious journey by perusing the glowing account of my +mishap. A column and a half was devoted to Dr. Crabbe and the +extraordinary effects of electricity upon a drowned man. It ultimately +got into some of the London papers, and was gravely commented upon in +the <i>Lancet</i>.</p> + +<p>As to the pecuniary success of our little experiment I can only judge +from the following letter from Tom Crabbe, which I transcribe exactly as +I received it:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">What Ho! My resuscitated Corpse</span>,</p> + +<p>"You want to know how all goes in Brisport, I suppose. Well, +I'll tell you. I'm cutting Markham and Davidson out completely, +my boy. The day after our little joke I got a bruised leg (that +baby), a cut head (the woman the baby fell upon), an +erysipelas, and a bronchitis. Next day a fine rich cancer of +Markham's threw him up and came over to me. Also a pneumonia +and a man who swallowed a sixpence. I've never had a day since +without half a dozen new names on the list, and I'm going to +start a trap this week. Just let me know when you are going to +set up, and I'll manage to run down, old man, and give you a +start in business, if I have to stand on my head in the +water-butt. Good-bye. Love from the Missus.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ever yours,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"<span class="smcap">Thomas Waterhouse Crabbe</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"M.B. Edin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"81 George Street,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Brisport."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +</blockquote> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="By_SIR_ARTHUR_CONAN_DOYLE" id="By_SIR_ARTHUR_CONAN_DOYLE"></a>By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE</h2> + + +<h3><i>Novels and Stories</i></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">DANGER! <i>And Other Stories</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE DOINGS OF RAFFLES HAW<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">HIS LAST BOW<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Some Latin Reminiscences of Sherlock Holmes</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLACK DOCTOR<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And Other Tales of Terror and Mystery</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And Other Tales of Adventure</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE CROXLEY MASTER<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And Other Tales of the Ring and Camp</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And Other Tales of Twilight and the Unseen</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And Other Tales of Long Ago</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And Other Tales of Pirates</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><i>On the Life Hereafter</i></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE NEW REVELATION<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE VITAL MESSAGE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE COMING OF THE FAIRIES<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE CASE FOR SPIRIT PHOTOGRAPHY<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE WANDERINGS OF A SPIRITUALIST<br /></span> +<span class="i0">OUR AMERICAN ADVENTURE<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><i>A History of the Great War</i></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BRITISH CAMPAIGN IN FRANCE AND FLANDERS—Six Vols.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><i>Poems</i></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Man from Archangel, by A. 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