THE HAND OF SCIENCE.
A feeling of apprehension and solemnity pervaded the hall when at last
the old family coach deposited its single occupant, Dr. Campbell, at the
gate. The colonel stood at the top of the steps to welcome him. Edward
and Mary were waiting in the sitting-room.
The famous practitioner, a tall, shapely figure, entered, and as he
removed his glasses he brought sunshine into the room, with his cheery
voice and confident manner. To Mrs. Montjoy he said:
"I came as soon as the telegram was received. Anxiety and loss of rest
in cases like yours are exceedingly undesirable. It is better to be
informed--even of the worst. Before we discuss this matter, come to the
window and let me examine the eye, please." He was assisting her as he
spoke. He carefully studied the condition of the now inflamed and
sightless organ, and then replaced the bandage.
"It is glaucoma," he said, briefly. "You will remember that I feared it
when we fitted the glasses some years ago. The slowness of its advance
is due to the care you have taken. If you are willing I would prefer to
operate at once." All were waiting in painful silence. The brave woman
replied: "Whenever you are ready I am," and resumed her knitting. He had
been deliberate in every word and action, but the occasion was already
robbed of its terrors, so potent are confidence, decision and action.
Edward was introduced and would have taken his leave, but the oculist
detained him.
"I shall probably need you," he said, "and will be obliged if you
remain. The operation is very simple."
The room was soon prepared; a window was thrown open, a lounge drawn
under it and bandages prepared. Mary, pale with emotion, when the
slender form of her mother was stretched upon the lounge hurriedly
withdrew. The colonel seated himself and turned away his face. There was
no chloroform, no lecture. With the simplicity of of a child at play,
the great man went to work. Turning up the eyelid, he dropped upon the
cornea a little cocaine, and selecting a minute scalpel from his case,
with two swift, even motions cut downward from the center of the eye and
then from the same starting point at right angles. The incisions
extended no deeper than the transparent epidermis of the organ.
Skillfully turning up the angle of this, he exposed a thin, white
growth--a minute cloud it seemed to Edward.
"Another drop of cocaine, please," the pleasant voice of the oculist
recalled him, and upon the exposed point he let fall from the dropper
the liquid. Lifting the little cloud with keen pinchers, the operator
removed it, restored the thin epidermis to its place, touched it again
with cocaine, and replaced the bandage. The strain of long hours was
ended; he had not been in the house thirty minutes.
"I felt but the scratch of a needle," said the patient; "it is indeed
ended?"
"All over," he said, cheerfully. He then wrote out a prescription and
directions for dressing, to be given to the family physician. Mary was
already by her mother's side, holding and patting her hand.
The famous man was an old friend of the family, and now entered into a
cheerful discussion of former times and mutual acquaintances. The little
boy had entered, and somehow had got into his lap, where all children
usually got who came under his spell. While talking on other subjects he
turned down the little fellow's lids.
"I see granulation here, colonel. Attend to it at once. I will leave a
prescription." And then with a few words of encouragement, he went off
to the porch to smoke.
After dinner the conversation came back to the patient.
"She will regain her vision this time," said Dr. Campbell, "but the
disease can only be arrested; it will return. The next time it will do
no good to operate. It is better to know these things and prepare for
them." The silence was broken by Edward.
"Are you so sure of this, doctor, that you would advise against further
consultation? In Paris, for instance, is Moreau. In your opinion, is
there the slightest grounds for his disagreeing with you?"
"In my opinion, no. But my opinion never extends to the point of
neglecting any means open to us. Were I afflicted with this disease I
would consult everybody within reach who had had experience." Edward
glanced in triumph at Mary. Dr. Campbell continued:
"I would be very glad if it were possible for Mrs. Montjoy to see Moreau
about the left eye. You will remember that I expressed a doubt as to the
hopelessness of restoring that one when it was lost. It was not affected
with glaucoma; there is a bare possibility that something might be done
for it with success. If the disease returns upon the right eye, the
question of operating upon the other might then come up again." Edward
waited a moment and then continued his questions:
"Do you not think a sea voyage would be beneficial, doctor?"
"Undoubtedly, if she is protected from the glare and dust while ashore.
We can only look to building up her general health now." Edward turned
away, with throbbing pulses.
"But," continued the doctor, "of course nothing of this sort should be
attempted until the eye is perfectly well again; say in ten days or two
weeks." Mary sat with bowed head. She did not see why Dr. Campbell arose
presently and walked to where Edward was standing. She looked upon them
there. Edward was talking with eager face and the other studying him
through his glasses. But somehow she connected his parting words with
that short interview.
"And about the sea voyage and Moreau, colonel; I do not know that I
ought to advise you, but I shall be glad if you find it convenient to
arrange that, and will look to you to have Moreau send me a written
report. Good-bye." But Edward stopped him.
"I am going back directly, doctor, and can take you and the carriage
need not return again. I will keep you waiting a few moments only." He
drew Col. Montjoy aside and they walked to the rear veranda.
"Colonel," he said, earnestly, "I want to make you an offer, and I do it
with hesitancy only because I am afraid you cannot understand me
thoroughly upon such short acquaintance. I believe firmly in this trip
and want you to let me help you bring it about. Without having
interested myself in your affairs, I am assured that you stand upon the
footing of the majority of southerners whose fortunes were staked upon
the Confederacy, and that just now it would inconvenience you greatly to
meet the expense of this experience. I want you to let me take the place
of John Morgan and do just as he would have done in this
situation--advance you the necessary money upon your own terms." As he
entered upon the subject the old gentleman looked away from him, and as
he proceeded Edward could see that he was deeply affected. He extended
his hand impulsively to the young man at last and shook it warmly. Tears
had gathered in his eyes. Edward continued:
"I appreciate what you would say, Colonel; you think it too much for a
comparative stranger to offer, or for you to accept, but the matter is
not one of your choosing. The fortunes of war have brought about the
difficulty, and that is all. You have risked your all on that issue and
have lost. You cannot risk the welfare of your wife upon an issue of
pride. You must accept. Go to Gen. Evan, he will tell you so."
"I cannot consider the offer, my young friend, in any other than a
business way. Your generosity has already put us under obligations we
can never pay and has only brought you mortification."
"Not so," was the reply. "In your house I have known the first home
feeling I ever experienced. Colonel, don't oppose me in this. If you
wish to call it business, give it that term."
"Yours will be the fourth mortgage on this place; I hesitate to offer
it. The hall is already pledged for $15,000."
"It is amply sufficient."
"I will consider the matter, Mr. Morgan," he said after a long silence.
"I will consider it and consult Evan. I do not see my way clear to
accept your offer, but whether or not, my young friend"--putting his arm
over the other's shoulder, his voice trembling--"whether I do or not you
have in making it done me an honor and a favor that I will remember for
life. It is worth something to meet a man now and then who is worthy to
have lived in nobler times. God bless you--and now you must excuse me."
He turned away abruptly. Thrilled by his tone and words, Edward went to
the front. As he shook hands with Mary he said:
"I cannot tell yet. But he cannot refuse. There is no escape for him."
At the depot in the city the doctor said: "Do not count too hopefully
upon Paris, my young friend. There is a chance, but in my opinion the
greatest good that can be achieved is for the patient to store in memory
scenes upon which in other days she may dwell with pleasure. Keep this
in mind and be governed accordingly." He climbed aboard the train and
waved adieu.
Edward was leaving the depot when he overtook Barksdale. Putting his
buggy in the care of a boy, he walked on with the railroader at his
request to the club. Barksdale took him into a private room and over a
choice cigar Edward gave him all the particulars of the duel and then
expressed his grateful acknowledgments for the friendly services
rendered him.
"I am assured by Gen. Evan," he said, "that had my demand been made in a
different form I might have been seriously embarrassed."
"Royson depended upon the Montjoys to get him out of the affair; he had
no idea of fighting."
"But how could the Montjoys have helped him?"
"They could have appealed to him to withdraw the charges he had made,
and he would have done so because the information came really from a
member of the Montjoy family. I do not think you will need to ask her
name. I mention it to you because you should be informed." Edward
comprehended his meaning at once. Greatly agitated, he exclaimed:
"But what object could she have had in putting out such slander? I do
not know her nor she me." Barksdale waved his hand deprecatingly:
"You do not know much of women."
"No. I have certainly not met this kind before."
Barksdale reflected a few moments, and then said, slowly: "Slander is a
curious thing, Mr. Morgan. People who do not believe it will repeat it.
I think if I were you I would clear up all these matters by submitting
to an interview with a reporter. In that you can place your own and
family history before the public and end all talk." Edward was pale, but
this was the suggestion that he had considered more than once. He shook
his head quickly.
"I disagree with you. I think it beneath the dignity of a gentleman to
answer slander by the publication of his family history. If the people
of this city require such statements from those who come among them,
then I shall sell out my interest here and go abroad, where I am known.
This I am, however, loath to do; I have a few warm friends here."
Barksdale extended his hand.
"You will, I hope, count me among them. I spoke only from a desire to
see you fairly treated."
"I have reason to number you among them. I am going to Paris shortly, I
think, with Mrs. Montjoy. Her eyesight is failing. I will be glad to see
you again before then."
"With Mrs. Montjoy?" exclaimed Barksdale.
"Yes; the matter is not entirely settled yet, but I do not doubt that
she will make the trip. Miss Montjoy will go with us."
Barksdale did not lift his eyes, but was silent, his hand toying with
his glass.
"I will probably call upon you before your departure," he said, as he
arose.