The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 274: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

2/0 He did not deign an answer. His economy of words was at times sheer brutality. “ Cold water.” He spoke in a curt tone, lacking courtesy to the point of offensiveness. “ Bring me some.” To run into the adjoining room was the work of a moment. I brought back with me the carafe and a glass. “A towel.” Obediently I snatched one off the rail upon which it was hanging. That the doctor soaked in the water and applied it to the girl’s forehead. Leaving it there, he walked to the mantel. From his breast pocket he drew a folding leather case, containing some tiny little bottles. Selecting one of them—holding it up between the light and himself—he from it carefully meas- ured ten drops into the glass. The liquid was of a bright green color; it sparkled in the hght as the drops fell. He added very little water ; shook the glass round until the fluids mixed; then said: “A spoon.” I rushed out, and in a moment had returned with what he required. He was standing by the bedside waiting for it with outstretched hand. Taking up some of the contents of the glass, he put a hand under the pil- low and raiséd the girl’s head. Then he managed by some means to get her mouth open; to pour one, two, and after a moment’s interval a third spoonful of the mixture down her throat. The doctor seemed satisfied with the swallowing. He let the pillow go back into its place and the girl’s head rest as before. As we stood there watching her, I made another attempt: “Well, doctor, what is it? ” At the sound of my voice he turned round; from between his half-closed evelids he looked at me. Then he said slowly : “You ought to have followed the medical instead of the lexal profession.” “What do you mean?” A shrug of his shoulders; an expres- sive raising of his eyebrows as he an- swered : “You diagnosed this case so well.” I was not in a state of mind to find any interest in enigmas—and his re- mark seemed full of them. Again | asked: “How do you mean?” “The girl is dying.” CHAPTER V. UNDER THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. WHETHER the doctor said what he did to frighten me, I do not know—I mecline to a suspicion that that was the object. He thought, possibly, to there- by elicit from me what he would have called the cruth. Anyway, the girl did not die. But as he stood w atching her, she seemed as calm as death itself. Her serenity was supreme; she was as motionless under the doctor’s care as she had been under mine. It was appalling to me: that watch- ing, waiting, solemn silence. In my overwrought, excited condition—much as J disliked asking any question—I blurted out: “What shall we do?” . He turned his eyes from his patient for a moment. Fixed them on me as, with an emphasis on the first word, he echoed: “We do! I should speak in the sin- gular if I were you.” There was such grimness about the response, such vicious emphasis on the distinction, that I asked his meaning. “So far as I am personally con- cerned,” he answered coolly, “I am in no doubt; I quite understand what 1 shall do.” So amazed was f[ at this that I could only look at him in my astonishment. Indeed, so intense was the feeling that I almost gasped: so wholly incompre- hensible, yet plainly significant, was the tone in his voice. “ What shall you do, then? ” I asked. “Tell me.” As he remained silent I repeated mv question: | “ What shall you do?” “That altogether depends—on what happens during the next half hour.” It was not difficult to understand that he had administered a restorative ‘of a powerful description; I gathered ECOMRRIC LOG SS) (GO) awa