The Lost Heir Part 11

"'The great point, Dr. Pearson,' I said, after the consultation was over, 'is, of course, whether there is likely to be any recurrence of the attack.' 'That is more than I can say,' he answered gravely; 'at present he can hardly be said to have recovered altogether from the effects of this one, which is in itself an unusual feature in the case. As a rule, when a person recovers from an epileptic fit he recovers altogether--that is to say, he is able to walk and talk as before, and his face shows little or no sign of the struggle that he has undergone. In this case the recovery is not altogether complete. You may have noticed that his voice is not only weak, but there is a certain hesitation in it. His face has not altogether recovered its natural expression, and is slightly, very slightly, drawn on one side, which would seem to point to paralysis; while in other respects the attack was as unlike a paralytic stroke as it could well have been. Thus, you see, it is difficult in the extreme for us to give any positive opinion concerning a case which is so entirely an exceptional one. We can only hope for the best, and trust to the strength of his const.i.tution. At any rate, we all agree that he needs absolute quiet and very simple and plain diet.

You see, he has been a great diner-out; and though an abstemious man in the way of drinking, he thoroughly appreciates a good dinner. All this must be given up, at any rate for a time. I should say that as soon as he is a little stronger, you had better take him down into the country. Let him see as few visitors as possible, and only very intimate friends. I do not mean that he should be lonely or left to himself; on the contrary, quiet companions.h.i.+p and talk are desirable.'

"I said that though the country might be best for him, there was no medical man within three miles of his place, and it would be terrible were we to have an attack, and not know what to do for it.

He said that he doubted if anything could be done when he was in such a state as he was the other night, beyond sprinkling his face with water, and that he himself felt powerless in the case of an attack that was altogether beyond his experience. Of course he said it was out of the question that I should be down there alone with him, but that I must take down an experienced nurse. He strongly recommended that she should not wear hospital uniform, as this would be a constant reminder of his illness.

"I said that I should very much like to have a medical man in the house. Money was no object, and it seemed to me from what he said that it would also be desirable that, besides being a skillful doctor, he should be also a pleasant and agreeable man, who would be a cheerful companion to him as well as a medical attendant.

"He agreed that this would certainly be very desirable, and that he and the others were all anxious that the case should be watched very carefully. He said that he would think the matter over, and that if he could not find just the man that would suit, he would ask Sir Henry Havercourt to recommend us one.

"He said there were many clever young men to whom such an engagement for a few months would be a G.o.dsend. He intended to run down himself once a fortnight, from Sat.u.r.day until Monday, which he could do, as his practice was to a large extent a consulting one. I could see plainly enough that though he evidently put as good a face upon it as he could, he and the other doctors took by no means a hopeful view of the case.

"It is all most dreadful, Netta, and I can hardly realize that only three days ago everything was bright and happy, while now it seems that everything is uncertain and dark. There was one thing the doctor said that pleased me, and that was, 'Don't let any of his town friends in to see him; and I think that it would be as well that none of them should go down to visit him in the country. Let him be kept altogether free from anything that would in the smallest degree excite him or set his brain working.' I told him that no one had seen him yet, and that I would take good care that no one should see him; and I need hardly tell you that Mr. Simcoe will be the first person to be informed of the doctor's orders."

A week later General Mathieson came downstairs for the first time. The change in him was even greater than it had seemed to be when he was lying on the sofa in his room; and Tom Roberts, who had been the General's soldier-servant years before, and had been in his service since he left the army, had difficulty in restraining his tears as he entered, with his master leaning heavily on his arm.

"I am shaky, my dear Hilda, very shaky," the General said. "I feel just as I did when I was laid up with a bad attack of jungle fever in India.

However, no doubt I shall pick up soon, just I did then. Pearson tells me that he and the others agree that I must go down into the country, and I suppose I must obey orders. Where is it we are to go?"

"To your own place, uncle."

"My own place?" he repeated doubtfully, and then after a pause, "Oh, yes, of course! Oh, yes!"

There was a troubled look in his face, as if he was trying to recall memories that had somehow escaped him, and Hilda, resolutely repressing the impulse to burst into a flood of tears, said cheerfully:

"Yes, I shall be very glad to be back at Holmwood. We won't go down by train, uncle. Dr. Pearson does not think that you are strong enough for that yet. He is going to arrange for a comfortable carriage in which you can lie down and rest. We shall make an early start. He will arrange for horses to be sent down so that we can change every ten or twelve miles, and arrive there early in the afternoon. It is only seventy miles, you know."

"Yes, I have driven up from there by the coach many a time when I was a boy, and sometimes since; have I not, Tom?"

"Yes, General. The railway was not made till six or seven years ago."

"No, the railway wasn't made, Hilda; at least, not all the way."

Hilda made signs to Tom not to leave the room, and he stood by his master's shoulder, prompting him occasionally when his memory failed him.

"You must get strong very fast, uncle, for Dr. Pearson said that you cannot go until you are more fit to bear the fatigue."

"I shall soon get strong, my dear. What is to-day?"

"To-day is Friday, uncle."

"Somehow I have lost count of days," he said. "Well, I should think that I shall be fit to go early next week; it is not as if we were going to ride down. I was always fond of riding, and I hope I shall soon be after the hounds again. Let me see, what month is this?"

"It is early in June, uncle; and the country will be looking its best."

"Yes, yes; I shall have plenty of time to get strong before cub-hunting begins."

So the conversation dragged on for another half hour, the General's words coming slower and slower, and at the end of that time he dropped asleep. Hilda made a sign to Roberts to stay with him, and then ran up to her own room, closed the door behind her, and burst into a pa.s.sion of tears. Presently there was a tap at the door, and her maid came in.

"Tom has just slipped out from the dining room, miss, and told me to tell you that the General was sleeping as peacefully as a child, and he thought it was like enough that he would not wake for hours. He said that when he woke he and William would get him up to his own room."

"Thank you, Lucy." The door closed again. Hilda got up from the bed on which she had lain down, and buried herself in the depths of a large cus.h.i.+oned chair. There she sat thinking. For the first time she realized how immense was the change in her uncle. She had seen him several times each day, but he had spoken but a few words, and it only seemed to her that he was drowsy and disinclined to talk. Now she saw how great was the mental as well as the physical weakness.

"It is terrible!" she repeated over and over again to herself. "What a wreck--oh, what a dreadful wreck! Will he ever get over it?"

She seemed absolutely unable to think. Sometimes she burst into sobs, sometimes she sat with her eyes fixed before her, but seeing nothing, and her fingers twining restlessly round each other. Presently the door opened very gently, and a voice said, "May I come in?" She sprang to her feet as if electrified, while a glad cry of "Netta!" broke from her lips. A moment later the two girls were clasped in a close embrace.

"Oh, Netta, how good of you!" Hilda said, after she had sobbed for some time on her friend's shoulder. "Oh, what a relief it is to me!"

"Of course I have come, you foolish girl. You did not suppose I was going to remain away after your letter? Aunt is with me; she is downstairs, tidying herself up. We shut up the house and left the gardener in charge, and here we are, as long as you want us."

"But your pupils, Netta?"

"I handed them all over to another of the Professor's a.s.sistants, so we need not bother about them. I told aunt that I should not be down for an hour. Mrs. Brown is looking after her, and getting her a cup of tea, and I asked her to bring two cups up here. I thought that you would prefer for us to have a chat by ourselves. Now tell me all about it, dear; that is, if there is anything fresh since you wrote."

Hilda told her the doctor's opinion and the plans that had been formed.

"Dr. Pearson brought a Dr. Leeds here with him this morning. He says he is very clever. His term as house surgeon at Guy's or St. Bartholomew's, I forget which, has just expired, and as he had not made any definite plans he was glad to accept the doctor's offer to take charge of my uncle. He seemed, from what little I saw of him, a pleasant man, and spoke in a cheerful voice, which will be a great thing for uncle. I should think that he is six or seven and twenty. Dr. Pearson said he was likely to become a very distinguished man in his profession some day. He is going to begin at once. He will not sleep here, but will spend most of his time here, partly because he wants to study the case, and partly because he wants uncle to get accustomed to him. He will travel down with us, which will be a great comfort to me, for there is no saying how uncle may stand the journey. I suggested that we should have another carriage, as the invalid carriage has room for only one inside besides the patient, but he laughed, and said that he would ride on the box with Tom Roberts; there will be room for two there, as we are going to post down. Of course, you and your aunt will go down by train, and be there to meet us; it will make it so much brighter and more cheerful having you to receive us than if we had to arrive all alone, with no one to say welcome."

"And is your uncle so very weak?"

"Terribly weak--weak both mentally and physically," and she gave an account of the interview that afternoon.

"That is bad indeed, Hilda; worse than I had expected. But with country air, and you and me to amuse him, to say nothing of the doctor, we may hope that he will soon be a very different man."

"Well, I will not stay talking here any longer, Netta; we have left your aunt half an hour alone, and if she were not the kindest soul in the world, she would feel hurt at being so neglected, after coming all this way for my sake. You don't know what good your coming has effected.

Before you opened the door I was in the depth of despair; everything seemed shaken, everything looked hopeless. There seemed to have been a sort of moral earthquake that had turned everything in my life topsy-turvy, but now I feel hopeful again. With you by my side I think that I can bear even the worst."

They went down to the drawing room, where they found Mrs. Brown, the housekeeper, having a long gossip over what had taken place with Miss Purcell, whom, although a stranger, she was unaffectedly glad to see, as it seemed to take some of her responsibilities off her shoulders, and she knew that Netta's society would be invaluable to Hilda.

It was not until a week later that, after another consultation, the doctors agreed that it was as well that the General should be moved down to his country place. Dr. Pearson was opinion that there was some improvement, but that it was very slight; the others could see no change since they had seen him ten days before. However, they agreed with their colleague that although there might be a certain amount of danger in moving him to the country, it was best to risk that, as the change might possibly benefit him materially.

"Have you formed any opinion of the case, Dr. Leeds?" Sir Henry asked.

"I can scarcely be said to have any distinct opinion, Sir Henry. The symptoms do not tally with those one would expect to find after any ordinary sort of seizure, although certainly they would point to paralysis rather than epilepsy. I should, had the case come before me in the ordinary way in the ward of a hospital, have come to the conclusion that the seizure itself and the after-effects pointed rather to the administration of some drug than to any other cause. I admit that I am not acquainted with any drug whose administration would lead to any such results; but then I know of no other manner in which they could be brought about save by some lesion of a blood vessel in the brain of so unusual a character that no such case has. .h.i.therto been reported in any work with which I am acquainted. This, I say, would be my first theory in the case of a patient of whose previous history I was entirely unaware, and who came under my charge in a hospital ward; but I admit that in the present case it cannot be entertained for a moment, and I must, during my attendance upon General Mathieson, watch closely for symptoms that would aid me in localizing brain lesion or other cause."

He spoke modestly and quietly in the presence, as he was, of some of the leading men of his profession. The theory he had enunciated had not occurred to any of them, but, as he spoke, they all recognized that the symptoms might under other circ.u.mstances have led them to a similar conclusion. They were silent for a minute when he ceased speaking, then Sir Henry said gravely:

"I admit, Dr. Leeds, that some of the symptoms, indeed the fit itself, might in the case of a patient of whose history we were ignorant seem to point to some obscure form of poisoning, since they do not accord with what one would expect in ordinary forms of brain seizures of this kind.

However, there is no doubt that we are all somewhat p.r.o.ne, when we meet with a case possessing unusual or altogether exceptional features, to fall back upon the theory of poisoning. In this case, fortunately, the circ.u.mstances are such as to preclude the possibility of entertaining the idea for a moment; and, as you say, you must endeavor to find, watching him as you will do, some other cause of what I admit is a mysterious and obscure case; and knowing you as I do, I am sure that you will mention this theory, even as a theory, to no one.

"We are all aware that there are many cases which come before us where we may entertain suspicions, and strong suspicions, that the patient has been poisoned, and yet we dare not take any steps because, in the first place, we have no clew as to how or by whom he or she has been poisoned, and because, if after death an autopsy should prove that we were mistaken, it would be nothing short of professional ruin. Here, as you said, the theory is happily irreconcilable with the circ.u.mstances of the case, and no drug known to European science would produce so strange a seizure or the after-effects. Of course, as we all know, on the west coast of Africa, and it is believed in India, the natives are acquainted with poisons which are wholly unknown, and will probably remain unknown, since medical men who have endeavored to investigate the matter have almost always fallen victims themselves to poisons administered by the people whose secrets they were endeavoring to discover.

"However, we can happily put that altogether aside. Dr. Pearson tells us that he intends to go down once a fortnight, and has promised to furnish us with the results of his own observations, and his own reports of this very interesting case. If General Mathieson had, in the course of his military career, ever been struck in the head by a bullet, I should say unhesitatingly that some splinter, possibly very minute, had obtruded into the brain matter; but this has, I learn, not been the case. The only serious injury that he has ever received was when he was terribly torn and nearly killed by a tiger some twenty years ago in India. It may be useful to you, Dr. Leeds, to keep this in your mind. There can be no doubt that scratches and bites, even of the domestic cat, occasionally give rise to violent inflammations, and probably, indeed I believe it to be the case, those of the great cats of India are still more poisonous.

As is the case with the bite of a mad dog, the poison may in some cases remain latent for a considerable time, until some circ.u.mstance may arouse it into activity. I would suggest that should any scars caused at that time remain, you should examine them carefully, and ascertain whether there is any sign of inflammatory action there. I grant the improbability of any consequences arising so many years after the event, but at the same time in a case of this kind, where we are perfectly at a loss to explain what we see, it is as well to look for the cause in every direction, however improbable it may appear."

"Thank you, Sir Henry; I will certainly do so. I was not aware before of the General having suffered such an injury, and I will go this afternoon and spend a few hours in looking through the medical works at the library of the India Office to see if there are any records of serious disturbance caused in the system by wounds inflicted by tigers a considerable time after they have apparently healed."

The meeting then broke up, and two days later General Mathieson was taken down to his seat in Warwicks.h.i.+re. Post horses were in readiness all along the road, and the journey was accomplished quickly and without fatigue to the patient, who slept the greater part of the distance. At each change Dr. Leeds got down and had two or three minutes' talk with Hilda, and when the General was awake gave him a spoonful of restorative medicine. His presence close at hand was a great comfort to Hilda, upon whom the strain of watching her uncle was very great, and she was thankful indeed when they arrived at the end of the journey, and found Netta and her aunt, who had gone down by that morning's train together with the housekeeper and her own maid, waiting on the steps to receive them.