GENERAL MATHIESON'S SEIZURE.
Three months later John Simcoe called for a letter directed to "Mr.
Jackson, care of William Scriven, Tobacconist, Fetter Lane." The address
was in his own handwriting. He carried it home before opening it. The
writing was rough and the spelling villainous.
"SAMOA.
"MY DEAR JACK: I was mitely glad when the old brig came in and
Captain Jephson handed me a letter from you, and as you may guess
still more pleased to find with it an order for fifty pounds. It
was good and harty of you, but you allus was the right sort. I have
dun as you asked me; I went to the wich man and for twelve bottles
of rum he gave me the packet inclosed of the stuff he uses. There
aint much of it, but it is mitely strong. About as much as will lie
on the end of a knife will make a man foam at the mouth and fall
into convulsions, three times as much as that will kill him
outrite. He says there aint no taste in it. I hope this will suit
your purpus. You will be sorry to hear that Long Peter has been
wiped out; he was spered by a native, who thort Pete wanted to run
away with his wife, wich I don't believe he did for she wernt no
way a beuty. Vigors is in a bad way; he has had the shakes bad
twice and I don't think that he can last much longer. Trade is bad
here, but now I have got the rino I shall buy another cocoanut
plantation and two or three more wives to work it, and shall be
comfortible. I am a pore hand with the pen, so no more from your
friend,
"BEN STOKES."
A week later Hilda wrote to her friend:
"MY DEAR NETTA: I am writing in great distress. Three days ago
uncle had a terrible fit. He was seized with it at the club, and I
hear that his struggles were dreadful. It was a sort of convulsion.
He was sensible when he was brought home, but very weak; he does
not remember anything about it. Fortunately, Dr. Pearson, who
always attends us, was one of the party, and he sent off cabs for
two others. Dr. Pearson came home with him. Of course I asked him
what it was, and he said that it was a very unusual case, and that
he and the other doctors had not yet come to any decision upon it,
as none of them had ever seen one precisely like it. He said that
some of the symptoms were those of an epileptic fit, but the
convulsions were so violent that they rather resembled tetanus than
an ordinary fit. Altogether he seemed greatly puzzled, and he would
give no opinion as to whether it was likely to recur. Uncle is
better to-day; he told me that he, Mr. Simcoe, and four others had
been dining together. He had just drunk his coffee when the room
seemed to swim round, and he remembered nothing more until he found
himself in bed at home. Mr. Simcoe came home with him, and the
doctor said, I must acknowledge, that no one could have been kinder
than he was. He looked quite ill from the shock that he had had.
But still I don't like him, Netta; in fact, I think I dislike him
more and more every day. I often tell myself that I have not a
shadow of reason for doing so, but I can't help it. You may call it
prejudice: I call it instinct.
"You can well imagine how all this has shocked me. Uncle seemed so
strong and well that I have always thought he would live to a great
age. He is sixty-eight, but I am sure he looks ten years
younger--at least he did so; at present he might be ninety. But I
can only hope that the change is temporary, and that he will soon
be his dear self again. The three doctors are going to have a
meeting here to-morrow. I shall be anxious, indeed, to hear the
result. I hope that they will order him a change, and that we can
go down together, either to his place or mine; then I can always be
with him, whereas here he goes his way and I go mine, and except at
meal-times we scarcely meet. If he does go I shall try and persuade
him to engage a medical man to go with us. Of course, I do not know
whether a doctor could be of any actual use in case of another
attack, but it would be a great comfort to have one always at
hand."
The letter stopped here, and was continued on the following evening.
"The consultation is over; Dr. Pearson had a long talk with me
afterwards. He said that it was without doubt an epileptic fit, but
that it differed in many respects from the general type of that
malady, and that all of them were to some extent puzzled. They had
brought with them a fourth doctor, Sir Henry Havercourt, who is the
greatest authority on such maladies. He had seen uncle, and asked
him a few questions, and had a talk with Dr. Pearson, and had from
him a minute account of the seizure. He pronounced it a most
interesting and, as far as he knew, a unique case, and expressed a
wish to come as a friend to see how the General was getting on. Of
course he inquired about his habits, asked what he had had for
dinner, and so on.
"'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 constitution. 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 companionship 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 godsend. He intended to run
down himself once a fortnight, from Saturday 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 passion 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
cushioned 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 assistants, 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 hitherto 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 circumstances 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 prone, 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
circumstances 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 circumstances 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 circumstance 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 Warwickshire. 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.