THE OBSTINATE PATIENT.
It was about a week after the exposure which had taken place in Stratton
Street, that the following events occurred at the splendid mansion of
the Marquis of Holmesford.
Although the time-piece upon the mantel of this nobleman's bed-room had
only just proclaimed the hour of three in the afternoon, yet the
curtains were drawn close over the windows, and the chamber was rendered
as dark as possible.
In that apartment, too, there was a profound silence—broken only by the
low but irregular breathing of some one who slept in the bed.
By the side of the couch sate two elderly men, dressed in black, and who
maintained a strict taciturnity—doubtless for fear of awakening the
sleeper.
On a small table between them were various bottles containing medicines.
The bed stood upon a sort of dais, or raised portion of the floor, this
platform being attained by two steps. High over the couch was a canopy
of velvet and gold, surmounted by the coronet of a Marquis, and from
whence the rich satin curtains, of dark purple, flowed over that
voluptuous bed.
The room itself was furnished in the most luxurious manner. The rosewood
tables were inlaid with mother of pearl: the chairs were of antique
form, with high backs carved in the most exquisite manner;—the mirrors
were large, the pictures numerous, and all set in magnificent
frames;—and the toilette-table was of the most elegant and costly
description.
And yet he, for whom all this gorgeousness and splendour had been
devised,—he, whose wealth had converted the entire mansion into a palace
that would have even delighted the proudest Sultan that ever sate on an
oriental throne,—this man, for whom earth had such delights—the world so
many enjoyments,—this man—the Marquis of Holmesford—was about to succumb
to the power of the Angel of Death.
Oh! what a mockery was it to behold,—when the window-curtains were drawn
back, upon the Marquis awaking from his uneasy slumber,—what a mockery
was it to behold that truly imperial magnificence surrounding the couch
whereon lay a thin, weak, haggard, and attenuated old man, in whose eyes
was already seen that stony glare which marks the last looks of
dissolving nature!
The nobleman awoke, and turned round towards his physicians, who watched
at the bed-side.
One of them rose and drew back the window-curtains as noiselessly as
possible; and then the pure light of a lovely day streamed into the
apartment.
The other medical attendant took the nobleman's hand, felt his pulse,
and inquired in a low whisper "how his lordship felt now?"
"Just the same—or may be a little worse," answered the Marquis, in a
hollow but feeble tone. "And yet it is impossible that I should be in
any real danger! Oh! no—I was only taken ill last night; and men do
not—do not—_die_," he added, pronouncing the fatal word with a most
painful effort, "upon so slight a warning."
"Your lordship is far from well—very far from well," said the physician,
emphatically; "and it is my duty to assure you of that fact."
"But you—you do not think, doctor," stammered the Marquis, "that I am in
any—any real—real danger?"
And as he spoke, his glassy eyes were for a few moments lighted up with
the evanescent fire of intense excitement—the agitation of a suspense
ineffably painful.
"My lord," answered the physician, in a solemn tone, "if you have any
affairs of a worldly nature to settle——"
"No—no: it can't be! You are deceiving me!" almost shrieked the old
nobleman, starting up wildly to a sitting posture: "do you mean to
offend—to insult me when I am a little indisposed? For I am convinced
that this is only a trifling indisposition—a passing illness."
"My dear Marquis," said the second physician, advancing towards the bed,
"my colleague performs but his duty—painful though it be—when he assures
you——"
"Oh! yes—I understand you," again interrupted the nobleman, catching at
a straw: "you do right to prepare me for the worst! But mine is not an
extreme case—is it? Oh! no—I am certain it cannot be! You are both
clever men—well versed in all the mysteries of your profession—and you
can soon restore me to health. There! I will give you each a cheque for
five thousand pounds the day that you tell me that I may get up again!"
And once more did he contemplate them with eager—anxious glances,
expressive alike of feverish hope and tremendous terror.
"Speak—speak!" he cried: "answer me! Five thousand pounds for each of
you, the day that I leave this bed!"
"Were your lordship to offer us all your fortune," answered the elder
physician—he who had first spoken,—"we could not do more for you than we
are now doing. And if you excite yourself thus——"
"Excite myself, indeed!" ejaculated the Marquis, attempting a
laugh—which, however, rather resembled a death-rattle that seemed to
shake his crazy old frame even to the very vital foundations: "is it not
enough to make me excited, when you are so foolish as to joke with me
about my being in danger—although you know that I must recover soon?
Don't you know _that_, doctor?—tell me dear doctor—shall I not be well
in a few days—or at all events a few weeks? Come—reassure me: say that
you only spoke in jest! Danger, indeed! Why, doctor, I possess a
constitution of iron!"
And, thus speaking, the Marquis fell back upon his pillow, in a state of
extreme exhaustion.
The younger physician forced him to swallow some medicine; and for a few
minutes he lay panting and moaning as if the chords of existence were
snapping rapidly one after the other.
At length he turned again towards his medical attendants.
"Well, I do believe that I am rather worse than I just now fancied
myself to be," he said, in a very faint and feeble tone: "but still I am
sure of getting better soon. That medicine has already done me good.
Three or four bottles of it—and I shall be quite well. Ah! my dear
friends, you are profoundly skilled in all the secrets of the human
frame; and with two such physicians as you, it would be impossible
to—to—die so soon!"
"Pray, my lord, do not excite yourself," observed the elder medical
attendant. "Repose and rest often prove more efficacious than drugs and
potions."
"Well—well—I will be quiet—I will tranquillise myself," said the
Marquis. "But you must not frighten me any more—you must not talk to me
about settling my worldly affairs—just as if I were indeed about to
die," he added, with a ghastly attempt to smile away that expression of
profound terror which he _felt_ to be imprinted on his countenance.
"No—no: it is too ridiculous to put such ideas into one's head! Why—how
old do you take me to be, doctor?"
"My lord, you afflict me greatly by this style of discourse," said the
elder physician, who was thus appealed to. "Most solemnly do I adjure
your lordship to compose your mind to that state in which every
Christian should be prepared for the worst."
"Doctor—doctor, you cannot be serious!" again half shrieked the
affrighted nobleman. "What! am I indeed so very ill? No—no: consider the
strength of my constitution—remember how able I am to procure by my
wealth every means that may conduce to my recovery—think of what you
yourself can do for me——"
"My lord," said the physician, solemnly, "we will exert all human
efforts to save you: but the result is with God!"
The Marquis uttered a hollow groan, and, closing his eyes, appeared to
be suddenly wrapt in profound meditation.
The scene which we have just described, was a most painful one—even to
those two physicians whose experience in such matters was so extensive.
There was something peculiarly horrible in that old man of shattered
health and exhausted vigour, boasting of the strength of a constitution
ruined by a long career of debauchery,—boasting, too, even against his
own internal convictions!
But, like all men who fear to die, the Marquis would not admit in words
what his soul had acknowledged to itself. He seemed to feel as if there
were a possibility of staving off the approach of death, merely by
reiterating a disbelief that the destroyer was advancing at all. Thus,
though his mind was filled with the most appalling apprehensions, he
nevertheless clung—he knew not how nor wherefore—to a hope that his
physicians _might_ be deceived—that they had exaggerated his danger—that
their skill was potent enough to wrestle with the dissolution of
nature—in a word, that it was quite possible for him to recover.
And, if he feared to die, it was not precisely because he dreaded the
idea of being suddenly plunged into eternity; for he had been a sceptic
all his life, and was by no means convinced that there was any future
state at all. But his mind shrank from the thought of death as from a
revolting spectacle; and moreover the world had so many charms—such
boundless attractions for him—that he could not endure the prospect of
being called away from those delicious scenes for ever!
He remained for nearly a quarter of an hour buried in the most profound
meditation.
"My worthy friends," he at length said, opening his glassy eyes once
more, and turning towards his physicians, "I am now prepared to hear
without excitement any thing you may deem it advisable or proper to
communicate. In one word, is my state really one of great peril?"
"Your lordship now speaks as becomes a man of strong mind," answered the
elder physician; "and in this altered mood you will receive with due
tranquillity the sad announcement which I am bound to make."
"And that announcement?" said the Marquis, hastily.
"Is that your lordship's recovery is in the hands of heaven," replied
the physician, solemnly: "for no human agency can enable you to quit
that bed in health again."
"And this is your serious conviction?" said the Marquis, grasping the
bed-clothes tightly with both his hands, as if to restrain an explosion
of his agonising feelings.
"My duty towards your lordship compels me to answer in the affirmative,"
returned the physician.
A pause of some minutes ensued: the Marquis could not trust himself to
speak. Silence was for a time the only safeguard against a relapse into
those wildly-expressed doubts, adjurations, and frantic wanderings which
had ere now denoted the real condition of his mind.
"It is then decided—and I must prepare for death!" he at length said, in
a low and measured tone. "With a candour equal to that which you have
already shown, doctor, tell me how long I may hope yet to live?"
"Do not press me, my lord, on that head——"
"Nay: now you are yourself adopting the very means to excite me,"
interrupted the Marquis, angrily. "I am nerved to hear the worst: but I
wish that _the worst_ may be communicated to me. Speak, doctor—speak
fearlessly—and say how long I may expect yet to live?"
The two physicians consulted each other with a rapid interchange of
glances; and both thereby intimating an affirmative, the elder one said,
"Your lordship might probably survive four-and-twenty hours."
"Four-and-twenty hours!" repeated the Marquis, the bed actually shaking
with the cold shudder that passed through his frame at this appalling
announcement: "four-and-twenty hours!" he said a second time: "that is a
very short reprieve, indeed! Has your skill no means, doctor, of
prolonging my existence for a few days—for a few hours, even, longer
than the amount which you have named?"
"There is no hope of accomplishing such a result, my lord," was the
reply.
"No hope!" murmured the Marquis: then after another short pause, he said
in a tone which it cost him a dreadful effort to render firm, "Have the
kindness to direct that my solicitor may be sent for without delay."
This desire was immediately complied with; and as the lawyer lived in
the neighbourhood, scarcely half an hour elapsed ere he was ushered into
the presence of the Marquis.
The physicians were desired to remain in the room; and the solicitor,
seating himself by the nobleman's directions at the table near the bed,
prepared his writing materials.
The Marquis of Holmesford then gave instructions relative to the
disposal of his property; and the lawyer drew up the will in due form.
Having detailed various bequests and legacies, and disposed of the great
bulk of his fortune, the Marquis, who spoke in a firm and distinct tone
of voice, addressed the lawyer in the following manner:—
"And now, sir, have the kindness to insert the words which I am about to
dictate to you:—'_Also I will and bequeathe to Katherine Bazzano,
half-sister of his Highness Richard, Prince of Montoni, the sum of fifty
thousand pounds, as a proof of the sincere contrition and deep regret
which I experience on account of certain proceedings on my part, whereby
the mother of the said Katherine Bazzano endured grievous wrong and
great affliction, although perfectly innocent of any evil thought or
deed in respect to her husband, the deceased father of the
above-mentioned Richard Prince of Montoni._'—Have you written to my
dictation?"
"I have followed your lordship as accurately as the introduction of a
few necessary legal technicalities into that last clause would permit,"
was the solicitor's reply.
"Then naught now remains for me but to sign the will," said the Marquis;
and he sate up in the bed, apparently with but little exertion.
He affixed his name with a firm hand to the document, and requested the
physicians to witness it.
The ceremony was then completed; and the solicitor took his departure.
So soon as he had left the room, the Marquis addressed himself to the
physicians in these terms:—
"My good friends, the ordeal which I most dreaded has been accomplished;
and I feel as if a considerable weight were taken off my mind. What I
now require is that you give me some powerful medicament or a strong
cordial, that will endow me with sufficient energy to rise from this bed
and proceed—alone and unattended—to another room in the house,—a room
which I _must_ visit—or I should not die in peace! And as a reward for
this last service, I desire you to divide equally between you the amount
which you will find in yonder writing-desk. That sum consists of a few
thousands, and will, I hope, amply repay the kindness which I now expect
at your hands."
"While I thank your lordship for this instance of your bounty towards me
and my colleague," said the elder physician, "I am convinced that I
express his feelings as well as my own, in stating that we cannot
possibly allow you to quit your couch. The excitement might prove almost
immediately fatal."
"I have no time to waste in hearing or answering objections," said the
Marquis, his glazing eyes lighting up with the fever of impatience, and
a hectic flush appearing on his sallow, sunken, withered cheeks. "Do
what I request—or leave me this moment: give me such a cordial as you
may think suitable to the purpose—or my valet will supply me with a
bumper of champagne."
"My dear Marquis——"
"My lord—my lord——"
"In one word, do as I desire—or leave me," exclaimed the nobleman,
cutting short the ejaculations of the two physicians by an imperious
wave of his skeleton-like hand: "there shall be no other master save
myself in this house, until the breath be out of my body."
The physicians essayed farther remonstrances—but in vain. The Marquis
grew fearfully irritated with their opposition, and then fell back so
exhausted upon his pillow, that the medical attendants were compelled to
administer as a restorative the cordial which he had demanded as an
artificial stimulant a few minutes previously.
The effect of the cordial was really surprising: that old man, whom its
influence had just snatched—but snatched only for a time—from the
out-stretched arms of death, sate up in his bed, smiled, and seemed to
bid defiance to the destroying angel.
"You must humour me now, my friends," he said, in a jocose manner, which
contrasted awfully with the inevitable peril of his condition: "go to
the writing-desk in yonder corner, and let me be assured you have
possessed yourselves of that token of my good feeling which I bequeathe
to you."
The physicians, rather to please their obstinate patient than to gratify
any avaricious longing on their part, did as they were desired: but,
scarcely had they opened the desk, where they observed a bundle of
Bank-notes, when a low chuckle met their ears.
They turned and beheld the Marquis, clad in a long dressing-gown and
with slippers on his feet, hurrying out of the room by a small door near
the foot of his bed.
To hasten after him was their first and most natural impulse; but the
key was turned on the other side ere they even reached the door.
Without losing a moment, they hastened from the room by a door at the
opposite extremity; but in the adjoining passage they were met by the
nobleman's principal valet.
"Gentlemen," said the domestic, "his lordship desires me to inform you
that he has no farther need of your services."
"But, my good fellow," exclaimed the younger physician, "your master is
dying—he cannot live another day; and this excitement—this rash
proceeding——"
"Is sheer madness!" added the senior medical attendant. "Whither has
your master gone?"
The valet whispered a few words to the physicians: they understood him
full well, and exchanged looks of mingled disgust and horror.
"The unnatural excitement of this proceeding," at length observed the
elder physician, "will kill the Marquis within an hour!"