At the drawing-room window of the villa there appeared a polite little
man, with bright intelligent eyes, and cheerful sociable manners. Neatly
dressed in professional black, he stood, self-proclaimed, a prosperous
country doctor--successful and popular in a wide circle of patients and
friends. As Mrs. Crayford approached him, he stepped out briskly to
meet her on the lawn, with both hands extended in courteous and cordial
greeting.
“My dear madam, accept my heartfelt congratulations!” cried the doctor.
“I have seen the good news in the paper; and I could hardly feel more
rejoiced than I do now if I had the honor of knowing Lieutenant Crayford
personally. We mean to celebrate the occasion at home. I said to my
wife before I came out, ‘A bottle of the old Madeira at dinner to-day,
mind!--to drink the lieutenant’s health; God bless him!’ And how is our
interesting patient? The news is not altogether what we could wish, so
far as she is concerned. I felt a little anxious, to tell you the truth,
about the effect of it; and I have paid my visit to-day before my usual
time. Not that I take a gloomy view of the news myself. No! There is
clearly a doubt about the correctness of the information, so far as
Mr. Aldersley is concerned--and that is a point, a great point in Mr.
Aldersley’s favor. I give him the benefit of the doubt, as the lawyers
say. Does Miss Burnham give him the benefit of the doubt too? I hardly
dare hope it, I confess.”
“Miss Burnham has grieved and alarmed me,” Mrs. Crayford answered. “I
was just thinking of sending for you when we met here.”
With those introductory words, she told the doctor exactly what had
happened; repeating not only the conversation of that morning between
Clara and herself, but also the words which had fallen from Clara, in
the trance of the past night.
The doctor listened attentively. Little by little, its easy smiling
composure vanished from his face, as Mrs. Crayford went on, and left him
completely transformed into a grave and thoughtful man.
“Let us go and look at her,” he said.
He seated himself by Clara’s side, and carefully studied her face, with
his hand on her pulse. There was no sympathy here between the dreamy
mystical temperament of the patient and the downright practical
character of the doctor. Clara secretly disliked her medical attendant.
She submitted impatiently to the close investigation of which he made
her the object. He questioned her--and she answered irritably. Advancing
a step further (the doctor was not easily discouraged) he adverted to
the news of the Expedition, and took up the tone of remonstrance which
had been already adopted by Mrs. Crayford. Clara declined to discuss the
question. She rose with formal politeness, and requested permission to
return to the house. The doctor attempted no further resistance. “By all
means, Miss Burnham,” he answered, resignedly--having first cast a look
at Mrs. Crayford which said plainly, “Stay here with me.” Clara bowed
her acknowledgments in cold silence, and left them together. The
doctor’s bright eyes followed the girl’s wasted, yet still graceful
figure as it slowly receded from view, with an expression of grave
anxiety which Mrs. Crayford noticed with grave misgiving on her side.
He said nothing, until Clara had disappeared under the veranda which ran
round the garden-side of the house.
“I think you told me,” he began, “that Miss Burnham has neither father
nor mother living?”
“Yes. Miss Burnham is an orphan.”
“Has she any near relatives?”
“No. You may speak to me as her guardian and her friend. Are you alarmed
about her?”
“I am seriously alarmed. It is only two days since I called here last,
and I see a marked change in her for the worse--physically and morally,
a change for the worse. Don’t needlessly alarm yourself! The case is
not, I trust, entirely beyond the reach of remedy. The great hope for
us is the hope that Mr. Aldersley may still be living. In that event,
I should feel no misgivings about the future. Her marriage would make a
healthy and a happy woman of her. But as things are, I own I dread that
settled conviction in her mind that Mr. Aldersley is dead, and that her
own death is soon to follow. In her present state of health this
idea (haunting her as it certainly will night and day) will have its
influence on her body as well as on her mind. Unless we can check the
mischief, her last reserves of strength will give way. If you wish for
other advice, by all means send for it. You have my opinion.”
“I am quite satisfied with your opinion,” Mrs. Crayford replied. “For
God’s sake, tell me, what can we do?”
“We can try a complete change,” said the doctor. “We can remove her at
once from this place.”
“She will refuse to leave it,” Mrs. Crayford rejoined. “I have more than
once proposed a change to her--and she always says No.”
The doctor paused for a moment, like a man collecting his thoughts.
“I heard something on my way here,” he proceeded, “which suggests to my
mind a method of meeting the difficulty that you have just mentioned.
Unless I am entirely mistaken, Miss Burnham will not say No to the
change that I have in view for her.”
“What is it?” asked Mrs. Crayford, eagerly.
“Pardon me if I ask you a question, on my part, before I reply,” said
the doctor. “Are you fortunate enough to possess any interest at the
Admiralty?”
“Certainly. My father is in the Secretary’s office; and two of the Lords
of the Admiralty are friends of his.”
“Excellent! Now I can speak out plainly with little fear of
disappointing you. After what I have said, you will agree with me, that
the only change in Miss Burnham’s life which will be of any use to her
is a change that will alter the present tone of her mind on the subject
of Mr. Aldersley. Place her in a position to discover--not by reference
to her own distempered fancies and visions, but by reference to actual
evidence and actual fact--whether Mr. Aldersley is, or is not, a living
man; and there will be an end of the hysterical delusions which now
threaten to fatally undermine her health. Even taking matters at their
worst--even assuming that Mr. Aldersley has died in the Arctic seas--it
will be less injurious to her to discover this positively, than to leave
her mind to feed on its own morbid superstitions and speculations, for
weeks and weeks together, while the next news from the Expedition is on
its way to England. In one word, I want you to be in a position, before
the week is out, to put Miss Burnham’s present conviction to a practical
test. Suppose you could say to her, ‘We differ, my dear, about Mr.
Francis Aldersley. You declare, without the shadow of a reason for it,
that he is certainly dead, and, worse still, that he has died by the
act of one of his brother officers. I assert, on the authority of the
newspaper, that nothing of the sort has happened, and that the chances
are all in favor of his being still a living man. What do you say to
crossing the Atlantic, and deciding which of us is right--you or I?’
Do you think Miss Burnham will say No to that, Mrs. Crayford? If I know
anything of human nature, she will seize the opportunity as a means of
converting you to a belief in the Second Sight.”
“Good Heavens, doctor! do you mean to tell me that we are to go to sea
and meet the Arctic Expedition on its way home?”
“Admirably guessed, Mrs. Crayford! That is exactly what I mean.”
“But how is it to be done?”
“I will tell you immediately. I mentioned--didn’t I?--that I had heard
something on my road to this house.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I met an old friend at my own gate, who walked with me a part of
the way here. Last night my friend dined with the admiral at Portsmouth.
Among the guests there was a member of the Ministry who had brought the
news about the Expedition with him from London. This gentleman told the
company there was very little doubt that the Admiralty would immediately
send out a steam-vessel, to meet the rescued men on the shores of
America, and bring them home. Wait a little, Mrs. Crayford! Nobody
knows, as yet, under what rules and regulations the vessel will sail.
Under somewhat similar circumstances, privileged people have been
received as passengers, or rather as guests, in her majesty’s ships--and
what has been conceded on former occasions may, by bare possibility, be
conceded now. I can say no more. If you are not afraid of the voyage for
yourself, I am not afraid of it (nay, I am all in favor of it on medical
grounds) for my patient. What do you say? Will you write to your father,
and ask him to try what his interest will do with his friends at the
Admiralty?”
Mrs. Crayford rose excitedly to her feet.
“Write!” she exclaimed. “I will do better than write. The journey to
London is no great matter--and my housekeeper here is to be trusted
to take care of Clara in my absence. I will see my father to-night! He
shall make good use of his interest at the Admiralty--you may rely on
that. Oh, my dear doctor, what a prospect it is! My husband! Clara!
What a discovery you have made--what a treasure you are! How can I thank
you?”
“Compose yourself, my dear madam. Don’t make too sure of success. We
may consider Miss Burnham’s objections as disposed of beforehand. But
suppose the Lords of the Admiralty say No?”
“In that case, I shall be in London, doctor; and I shall go to them
myself. Lords are only men; and men are not in the habit of saying No to
me.”
So they parted.
In a week from that day, her majesty’s ship _Amazon_ sailed for North
America. Certain privileged persons, specially interested in the Arctic
voyagers, were permitted to occupy the empty state-rooms on board.
On the list of these favored guests of the ship were the names of two
ladies--Mrs. Crayford and Miss Burnham.
Fifth Scene--The Boat-House.