It was only ten o’clock. The dull roar of the traffic which converged9 all day upon London Bridge had died away now to a mere10 confused murmur11. It was raining heavily, and the gas shone dimly through the streaked12 and dripping glass, throwing little circles upon the glistening13 cobblestones. The air was full of the sounds of the rain, the thin swish of its fall, the heavier drip from the eaves, and the swirl14 and gurgle down the two steep gutters15 and through the sewer16 grating. There was only one figure in the whole length of Scudamore Lane. It was that of a man, and it stood outside the door of Dr. Horace Selby.
He had just rung and was waiting for an answer. The fanlight beat full upon the gleaming shoulders of his waterproof17 and upon his upturned features. It was a wan18, sensitive, clear-cut face, with some subtle, nameless peculiarity19 in its expression, something of the startled horse in the white-rimmed eye, something too of the helpless child in the drawn20 cheek and the weakening of the lower lip. The man-servant knew the stranger as a patient at a bare glance at those frightened eyes. Such a look had been seen at that door many times before.
“Is the doctor in?”
The man hesitated.
“He has had a few friends to dinner, sir. He does not like to be disturbed outside his usual hours, sir.”
“Tell him that I MUST see him. Tell him that it is of the very first importance. Here is my card.” He fumbled21 with his trembling fingers in trying to draw one from his case. “Sir Francis Norton is the name. Tell him that Sir Francis Norton, of Deane Park, must see him without delay.”
“Yes, sir.” The butler closed his fingers upon the card and the half-sovereign which accompanied it. “Better hang your coat up here in the hall. It is very wet. Now if you will wait here in the consulting-room, I have no doubt that I shall be able to send the doctor in to you.”
It was a large and lofty room in which the young baronet found himself. The carpet was so soft and thick that his feet made no sound as he walked across it. The two gas jets were turned only half-way up, and the dim light with the faint aromatic22 smell which filled the air had a vaguely23 religious suggestion. He sat down in a shining leather armchair by the smouldering fire and looked gloomily about him. Two sides of the room were taken up with books, fat and sombre, with broad gold lettering upon their backs. Beside him was the high, old-fashioned mantelpiece of white marble—the top of it strewed24 with cotton wadding and bandages, graduated measures, and little bottles. There was one with a broad neck just above him containing bluestone, and another narrower one with what looked like the ruins of a broken pipestem and “Caustic” outside upon a red label. Thermometers, hypodermic syringes bistouries and spatulas25 were scattered about both on the mantelpiece and on the central table on either side of the sloping desk. On the same table, to the right, stood copies of the five books which Dr. Horace Selby had written upon the subject with which his name is peculiarly associated, while on the left, on the top of a red medical directory, lay a huge glass model of a human eye the size of a turnip26, which opened down the centre to expose the lens and double chamber27 within.
Sir Francis Norton had never been remarkable28 for his powers of observation, and yet he found himself watching these trifles with the keenest attention. Even the corrosion29 of the cork30 of an acid bottle caught his eye, and he wondered that the doctor did not use glass stoppers. Tiny scratches where the light glinted off from the table, little stains upon the leather of the desk, chemical formulae scribbled31 upon the labels of the phials—nothing was too slight to arrest his attention. And his sense of hearing was equally alert. The heavy ticking of the solemn black clock above the mantelpiece struck quite painfully upon his ears. Yet in spite of it, and in spite also of the thick, old-fashioned wooden partition, he could hear voices of men talking in the next room, and could even catch scraps32 of their conversation. “Second hand was bound to take it.” “Why, you drew the last of them yourself!”
“How could I play the queen when I knew that the ace7 was against me?” The phrases came in little spurts33 falling back into the dull murmur of conversation. And then suddenly he heard the creaking of a door and a step in the hall, and knew with a tingling34 mixture of impatience35 and horror that the crisis of his life was at hand.
Dr. Horace Selby was a large, portly man with an imposing36 presence. His nose and chin were bold and pronounced, yet his features were puffy, a combination which would blend more freely with the wig37 and cravat38 of the early Georges than with the close-cropped hair and black frock-coat of the end of the nineteenth century. He was clean shaven, for his mouth was too good to cover—large, flexible, and sensitive, with a kindly39 human softening40 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 bristled41 out from under his ears spindling away upwards42 to merge43 in the thick curves of his brindled44 hair. To his patients there was something reassuring45 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 consolation46, and so too were the large, white, soothing47 hands, one of which he held out to his visitor.
“I am sorry to have kept you waiting. It is a conflict of duties, you perceive—a host’s to his guests and an adviser’s to his patient. But now I am entirely48 at your disposal, Sir Francis. But dear me, you are very cold.”
“Yes, I am cold.”
“And you are trembling all over. Tut, tut, this will never do! This miserable49 night has chilled you. Perhaps some little stimulant——”
“No, thank you. I would really rather not. And it is not the night which has chilled me. I am frightened, doctor.”
The doctor half-turned in his chair, and he patted the arch of the young man’s knee, as he might the neck of a restless horse.
“What then?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the pale face with the startled eyes.
Twice the young man parted his lips. Then he stooped with a sudden gesture, and turning up the right leg of his trousers he pulled down his sock and thrust forward his shin. The doctor made a clicking noise with his tongue as he glanced at it.
“Both legs?”
“No, only one.”
“Suddenly?”
“This morning.”
“Hum.”
The doctor pouted50 his lips, and drew his finger and thumb down the line of his chin. “Can you account for it?” he asked briskly.
“No.”
A trace of sternness came into the large brown eyes.
“I need not point out to you that unless the most absolute frankness——”
The patient sprang from his chair. “So help me God!” he cried, “I have nothing in my life with which to reproach myself. Do you think that I would be such a fool as to come here and tell you lies. Once for all, I have nothing to regret.” He was a pitiful, half-tragic51 and half-grotesque figure, as he stood with one trouser leg rolled to the knee, and that ever present horror still lurking52 in his eyes. A burst of merriment came from the card-players in the next room, and the two looked at each other in silence.
“Sit down,” said the doctor abruptly53, “your assurance is quite sufficient.” He stooped and ran his finger down the line of the young man’s shin, raising it at one point. “Hum, serpiginous,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Any other symptoms?”
“My eyes have been a little weak.”
“Let me see your teeth.” He glanced at them, and again made the gentle, clicking sound of sympathy and disapprobation.
“Now your eye.” He lit a lamp at the patient’s elbow, and holding a small crystal lens to concentrate the light, he threw it obliquely55 upon the patient’s eye. As he did so a glow of pleasure came over his large expressive56 face, a flush of such enthusiasm as the botanist57 feels when he packs the rare plant into his tin knapsack, or the astronomer58 when the long-sought comet first swims into the field of his telescope.
“This is very typical—very typical indeed,” he murmured, turning to his desk and jotting59 down a few memoranda60 upon a sheet of paper. “Curiously enough, I am writing a monograph61 upon the subject. It is singular that you should have been able to furnish so well-marked a case.” He had so forgotten the patient in his symptom, that he had assumed an almost congratulatory air towards its possessor. He reverted62 to human sympathy again, as his patient asked for particulars.
“My dear sir, there is no occasion for us to go into strictly63 professional details together,” said he soothingly64. “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 hereditary65 taint66.”
The young baronet sank back in his chair, and his chin fell forwards upon his chest. The doctor sprang to a side-table and poured out half a glass of liqueur brandy which he held to his patient’s lips. A little fleck67 of colour came into his cheeks as he drank it down.
“Perhaps I spoke68 a little abruptly,” said the doctor, “but you must have known the nature of your complaint. Why, otherwise, should you have come to me?”
“God help me, I suspected it; but only today when my leg grew bad. My father had a leg like this.”
“It was from him, then——?”
“No, from my grandfather. You have heard of Sir Rupert Norton, the great Corinthian?”
The doctor was a man of wide reading with a retentive69, memory. The name brought back instantly to him the remembrance of the sinister70 reputation of its owner—a notorious buck71 of the thirties—who had gambled and duelled and steeped himself in drink and debauchery, until even the vile72 set with whom he consorted73 had shrunk away from him in horror, and left him to a sinister old age with the barmaid wife whom he had married in some drunken frolic. As he looked at the young man still leaning back in the leather chair, there seemed for the instant to flicker74 up behind him some vague presentiment75 of that foul76 old dandy with his dangling77 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 veins78 of an innocent man.
“I see that you have heard of him,” said the young baronet. “He died horribly, I have been told; but not more horribly than he had lived. My father was his only son. He was a studious man, fond of books and canaries and the country; but his innocent life did not save him.”
“His symptoms were cutaneous, I understand.”
“He wore gloves in the house. That was the first thing I can remember. And then it was his throat. And then his legs. He used to ask me so often about my own health, and I thought him so fussy79, for how could I tell what the meaning of it was. He was always watching me—always with a sidelong eye fixed80 upon me. Now, at last, I know what he was watching for.”
“Had you brothers or sisters?”
“None, thank God.”
“Well, well, it is a sad case, and very typical of many which come in my way. You are no lonely sufferer, Sir Francis. There are many thousands who bear the same cross as you do.”
“But where is the justice of it, doctor?” cried the young man, springing from his chair and pacing up and down the consulting-room. “If I were heir to my grandfather’s sins as well as to their results, I could understand it, but I am of my father’s type. I love all that is gentle and beautiful—music and poetry and art. The coarse and animal is abhorrent81 to me. Ask any of my friends and they would tell you that. And now that this vile, loathsome82 thing—ach, I am polluted to the marrow83, 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, blighted84 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 clinched85 hands in the air—the poor impotent atom with his pin-point of brain caught in the whirl of the infinite.
The doctor rose and placing his hands upon his shoulders he pressed him back into his chair once more. “There, there, my dear lad,” said he; “you must not excite yourself. You are trembling all over. Your nerves cannot stand it. We must take these great questions upon trust. What are we, after all? Half-evolved creatures in a transition stage, nearer perhaps to the Medusa on the one side than to perfected humanity on the other. With half a complete brain we can’t expect to understand the whole of a complete fact, can we, now? It is all very dim and dark, no doubt; but I think that Pope’s famous couplet sums up the whole matter, and from my heart, after fifty years of varied86 experience, I can say——”
But the young baronet gave a cry of impatience and disgust. “Words, words, words! You can sit comfortably there in your chair and say them—and think them too, no doubt. You’ve had your life, but I’ve never had mine. You’ve healthy blood in your veins; mine is putrid88. And yet I am as innocent as you. What would words do for you if you were in this chair and I in that? Ah, it’s such a mockery and a make-believe! Don’t think me rude, though, doctor. I don’t mean to be that. I only say that it is impossible for you or any other man to realise it. But I’ve a question to ask you, doctor. It’s one on which my whole life must depend.” He writhed89 his fingers together in an agony of apprehension90.
“Speak out, my dear sir. I have every sympathy with you.”
“Do you think—do you think the poison has spent itself on me? Do you think that if I had children they would suffer?”
“I can only give one answer to that. ‘The third and fourth generation,’ says the trite91 old text. You may in time eliminate it from your system, but many years must pass before you can think of marriage.”
“I am to be married on Tuesday,” whispered the patient.
It was the doctor’s turn to be thrilled with horror. There were not many situations which would yield such a sensation to his seasoned nerves. He sat in silence while the babble92 of the card-table broke in upon them again. “We had a double ruff if you had returned a heart.” “I was bound to clear the trumps93.” They were hot and angry about it.
“How could you?” cried the doctor severely94. “It was criminal.”
“You forget that I have only learned how I stand to-day.” He put his two hands to his temples and pressed them convulsively. “You are a man of the world, Dr. Selby. You have seen or heard of such things before. Give me some advice. I’m in your hands. It is all very sudden and horrible, and I don’t think I am strong enough to bear it.”
The doctor’s heavy brows thickened into two straight lines, and he bit his nails in perplexity.
“The marriage must not take place.”
“Then what am I to do?”
“At all costs it must not take place.”
“And I must give her up?”
“There can be no question about that.”
The young man took out a pocketbook and drew from it a small photograph, holding it out towards the doctor. The firm face softened95 as he looked at it.
“It is very hard on you, no doubt. I can appreciate it more now that I have seen that. But there is no alternative at all. You must give up all thought of it.”
“But this is madness, doctor—madness, I tell you. No, I won’t raise my voice. I forgot myself. But realise it, man. I am to be married on Tuesday. This coming Tuesday, you understand. And all the world knows it. How can I put such a public affront96 upon her. It would be monstrous.”
“None the less it must be done. My dear lad, there is no way out of it.”
“You would have me simply write brutally97 and break the engagement at the last moment without a reason. I tell you I couldn’t do it.”
“I had a patient once who found himself in a somewhat similar situation some years ago,” said the doctor thoughtfully. “His device was a singular one. He deliberately98 committed a penal99 offence, and so compelled the young lady’s people to withdraw their consent to the marriage.”
The young baronet shook his head. “My personal honour is as yet unstained,” said he. “I have little else left, but that, at least, I will preserve.”
“Well, well, it is a nice dilemma100, and the choice lies with you.”
“Have you no other suggestion?”
“You don’t happen to have property in Australia?”
“None.”
“But you have capital?”
“Yes.”
“Then you could buy some. To-morrow morning would do. A thousand mining shares would be enough. Then you might write to say that urgent business affairs have compelled you to start at an hour’s notice to inspect your property. That would give you six months, at any rate.”
“Well, that would be possible. Yes, certainly, it would be possible. But think of her position. The house full of wedding presents—guests coming from a distance. It is awful. And you say that there is no alternative.”
The doctor shrugged101 his shoulders.
“Well, then, I might write it now, and start to-morrow—eh? Perhaps you would let me use your desk. Thank you. I am so sorry to keep you from your guests so long. But I won’t be a moment now.”
He wrote an abrupt54 note of a few lines. Then with a sudden impulse he tore it to shreds102 and flung it into the fireplace.
“No, I can’t sit down and tell her a lie, doctor,” he said rising. “We must find some other way out of this. I will think it over and let you know my decision. You must allow me to double your fee as I have taken such an unconscionable time. Now good-bye, and thank you a thousand times for your sympathy and advice.”
“Why, dear me, you haven’t even got your prescription103 yet. This is the mixture, and I should recommend one of these powders every morning, and the chemist will put all directions upon the ointment104 box. You are placed in a cruel situation, but I trust that these may be but passing clouds. When may I hope to hear from you again?”
“To-morrow morning.”
“Very good. How the rain is splashing in the street! You have your waterproof there. You will need it. Good-bye, then, until to-morrow.”
He opened the door. A gust87 of cold, damp air swept into the hall. And yet the doctor stood for a minute or more watching the lonely figure which passed slowly through the yellow splotches of the gas lamps, and into the broad bars of darkness between. It was but his own shadow which trailed up the wall as he passed the lights, and yet it looked to the doctor’s eye as though some huge and sombre figure walked by a manikin’s side and led him silently up the lonely street.
Dr. Horace Selby heard again of his patient next morning, and rather earlier than he had expected. A paragraph in the Daily News caused him to push away his breakfast untasted, and turned him sick and faint while he read it. “A Deplorable Accident,” it was headed, and it ran in this way:
“A fatal accident of a peculiarly painful character is reported from King William Street. About eleven o’clock last night a young man was observed while endeavouring to get out of the way of a hansom to slip and fall under the wheels of a heavy, two-horse dray. On being picked up his injuries were found to be of the most shocking character, and he expired while being conveyed to the hospital. An examination of his pocketbook and cardcase shows beyond any question that the deceased is none other than Sir Francis Norton, of Deane Park, who has only within the last year come into the baronetcy. The accident is made the more deplorable as the deceased, who was only just of age, was on the eve of being married to a young lady belonging to one of the oldest families in the South. With his wealth and his talents the ball of fortune was at his feet, and his many friends will be deeply grieved to know that his promising105 career has been cut short in so sudden and tragic a fashion.”
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1
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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footpaths
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| 人行小径，人行道( footpath的名词复数 ) | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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converged
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| v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的过去式 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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sewer
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| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
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waterproof
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| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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aromatic
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vaguely
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strewed
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spatulas
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| n.（搅拌或涂敷用的）铲，漆工抹刀( spatula的名词复数 )；压舌板 | |
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turnip
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| n.萝卜，芜菁 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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corrosion
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| n.腐蚀，侵蚀；渐渐毁坏，渐衰 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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spurts
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| 短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 )； 突然奋起 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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merge
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| v.(使)结合，(使)合并，(使)合为一体 | |
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brindled
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| adj.有斑纹的 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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52
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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obliquely
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| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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57
botanist
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| n.植物学家 | |
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astronomer
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| n.天文学家 | |
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59
jotting
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| n.简短的笔记，略记v.匆忙记下( jot的现在分词 )；草草记下，匆匆记下 | |
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memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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monograph
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| n.专题文章，专题著作 | |
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reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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fleck
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| n.斑点，微粒 vt.使有斑点，使成斑驳 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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retentive
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| v.保留的，有记忆的；adv.有记性地，记性强地；n.保持力 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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consorted
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| v.结伴( consort的过去式和过去分词 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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putrid
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| adj.腐臭的；有毒的；已腐烂的；卑劣的 | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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trumps
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| abbr.trumpets 喇叭；小号；喇叭形状的东西；喇叭筒v.（牌戏）出王牌赢（一牌或一墩）( trump的过去式 )；吹号公告，吹号庆祝；吹喇叭；捏造 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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100
dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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101
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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102
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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103
prescription
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| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
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104
ointment
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| n.药膏，油膏，软膏 | |
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105
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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