IN WHICH FANNY NARRATES HOW HER HUSBAND HAD A FIT, AND WHAT THE DOCTOR
THOUGHT OF IT.
"Nothing more took place before we got up in the morning. Lemon torsed
about as usual, and kept groaning and talking to hisself, but, excep
what I've told you, I couldn't make head or tail of his mumblings.
Devlin come down to breakfast, and said, as gay as gay can be,
"'I've had a lovely night.'
"'Have you?' said I. I wouldn't have spoke if I could have helped it,
but he's got a way of forcing the words out of you.
"'Yes,' he answered, 'a most lovely night. I've slep the sleep of the
just.' What he meant by it I don't know, but it's what he said. 'You
look tired, Mrs. Lemon.'
"He grinned in my face, sir, as he made the remark, and my blood begun
to boil.
"I've got enough to make me look tired,' I said. 'Lemon hasn't had a
decent night's rest for months.'
"'You don't say so! But why not, why not?' asked Devlin, pitching into
the ham and eggs.
"'You can answer that better than I can,' I said, jumping from the
table; 'You; yes, you!'
"'Fanny!' cried Lemon.
"'I don't care,' I said, feeling reckless; I think it must have been
because I was sure you'd come to my help, sir. 'I don't care. Things
aren't as they should be, and it stands to reason they can't go on
like this much longer.'
"'O,' said Devlin, helping hisself to the last rasher. 'It stands to
reason, does it?'
"'Yes, it does,' I answered. 'I'm Lemon's wife, and if he can't take
care of hisself it's my duty to do it for him.'
"'Can't you take care of yourself?' asked Devlin of my poor husband.
'That's sad, very sad!'
"'I can, I can,' cried Lemon. 'Fanny don't know what she's talking
about.'
"'I thought as much,' said Devlin. 'Nerves unstrung. She wants bracing
up. I must prescribe for her.'
"'Not if I know it,' I said. 'I've had enough of you and your
prescribing to last me a lifetime. Don't look at me like that, or
you'll drive me mad!'
"'Was there ever sech an unreasonable woman?' said Devlin, and he come
and laid his hand upon me. 'Jest see how she's shaking. Lemon. She's
low, very low; I really must prescribe for her. Leave her to me. I'll
see that no harm comes to her.'
"What with his great staring eyes piercing me through and through, and
his hand patting my shoulder, and his mocking voice, and the grin on
his face, all my courage melted clean away, and I burst out crying and
run into the kitchen. There I stayed till I heard the street-door
slam, and then I went back to clear the breakfast-things, with a
thankful heart that Devlin was gone. If he'd only have left my husband
behind him I should have been satisfied, but Lemon was gone too. There
was a bottle on the table with something in it, and a label on it in
Devlin's writing--
"For my dear kind friend, Mrs. Lemon. A tonic for her nerves. A
tablespoonful, in water, three times a day.'
"'A tablespoonful, in water, three times a day,' thinks I to myself.
'Not if I know it.'
"I was going to throw the bottle in the dusthole, but I thought I'd
better not, and I put it away on the top shelf of the cupboard, right
at the back. After that I went about my work, wondering how it was all
going to end, and casting about in my mind whether there was anything
I could do to get rid of the creature as was making our lives a
misery. But I couldn't think of nothing.
"Lemon was never very fond of politics, but he likes to know what's
going on, and we take in a penny weekly newspaper as gives all the
news from one end of the week to the other, and how they do it for the
money beats me holler. The boy brings it every Sunday morning, and it
ain't once in a year that Lemon buys a daily paper. You'll see
presently why I mention it.
"It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and I was setting sewing when I
hears the latchkey in the street-door. Now, Saturday is always a late
day with Lemon and Devlin; they don't generally come home till ten or
eleven o'clock at night, and I was surprised when I heard the key in
the lock. I knew it must be one or the other of 'em, because nobody
but them and me has a latchkey. I set and listened, wondering whether
it was Lemon and what had brought him home so early, and I made up my
mind, if it _was_ him, to have a good talk with him, and try and
persuade him once more to give up Devlin altogether. 'But why don't he
come in?' thought I. There he was in the street, fumbling about with
the key as though there was something wrong with it; and he stayed
there so long that I couldn't stand it no longer, so I goes to the
door and opens it myself. The minute it was open Lemon reels past me,
behaving hisself as if he was mad or drunk. I picked up the latchkey
which he'd dropped, and follered him into the parlour here. What made
him ketch hold of me, and moan, and cry, and look round as if he'd
brought a ghost in with him, and it was standing at his elber? And
what made him suddingly cover his face with his hands, and after
trembling like a aspen leaf, tumble down on the floor in a fit right
before my very eyes? There he laid, sir, twisting and foaming, a sight
I pray I may never see agin.
"I knelt down quick and undid his neck-handkercher, and tried to bring
him to, but he got worse and worse, and all I could do wasn't a bit of
good.
"There was nobody in the house but Lemon and me, and, almost
distracted, I run like mad to the chemist's shop at the corner of the
second turning to the right, who's got a son walking the horspitals,
and begged him to come with me and see my poor man. He come at once,
sir, and there was Lemon still on the floor in his fit. The doctor
unclarsped Lemon's hands and put something in 'em, and I slipped a
cold key down his back because his nose was bleeding.
"'That's a good sign,' said the doctor, as he forced Lemon's jaws
apart and put a spoon between his teeth, which Lemon almost bit in
two. Then he threw a jug of cold water into Lemon's face, completely
satcherating him, and after that Lemon wasn't so violent; but he
didn't recover his senses or open his eyes.
"'Let's git him to bed,' said the doctor.
"He helped me carry Lemon up-stairs, where we undressed him, and it
wasn't before we got him between the sheets that he come to.
"'Feel better?' asked the doctor.
"But Lemon never spoke.
"'Don't leave him,' said the doctor to me, and he went back to his
shop and brought a sleeping draught, which Lemon took, and soon
afterwards fell asleep.
"'He won't wake,' said the doctor, 'for twelve hours at least. Is he
subject to fits?'
"'No, sir,' I answered; 'this is the first he's ever had. Can you tell
me what's the matter with him? He ain't been drinking, has he?'
"There's no sign of drink,' said the doctor, 'and no smell of it.
_Does_ he drink?'
"'Not more than is good for him,' I said. 'I've never seen Lemon the
worse for liquor.'
"'What I don't like about him,' the doctor then said, 'was the look in
his eyes when he come to his senses--as if he'd had a shock. Has he
taken a religious turn?'
"'No, sir.'
"'Is he sooperstitious at all?'
"'No, sir.'
"'The reason I ask, Mrs. Lemon,' said the doctor, 'is because this
don't seem to me a ordinary fit. Is there any madness in your
husband's family?'
"'I never heard of any,' I answered, 'and I think I should have been
sure to know it if there was.'
"'Very likely,' said the doctor, 'though sometimes they keep it dark.
All I can say is, there's something on Mr. Lemon's mind, or he's
received a mental shock.'
"With that he went away.
"Lemon by that time was sound as a top. The doctor must have given him
a strong dose to overcome him so, and it did my heart good to see him
laying so peaceful. But I couldn't help thinking over what the doctor
had said of him. There was either something on Lemon's mind or he'd
received a mental shock. And that was said without the doctor knowing
what I knew, for I'd kep my troubles to myself. I didn't as much as
whisper what Lemon had said in his sleep the night before about the
young girl in Victoria Park with golden hair and a bunch of white
daisies in her belt, covered with blood.
"'Perhaps Lemon's been reading a story,' I thought, 'with something
like that in it, and it's took hold of him.'
"There was nothing to wonder at in that. The penny newspaper we take
in always has a story in it that goes on from week to week, and always
ending at such a aggravating part that I can hardly wait to git the
next number. I fly for it the first thing Sunday morning, before I
read anything else. Lemon goes for the police-courts, and takes the
story afterwards.
"My mind was running on in that way as I picked up Lemon's clothes,
which the doctor and me had tore off him and throwed on the floor; and
I don't mind telling you, sir, that I felt in the pockets. First, his
trousers. There was nothing in 'em but a few coppers and two-and-six
in silver. Then his westcoat. There was nothing in that but his silver
watch and a button that had come off. Then his coat. What I found
there was his handkercher, his spectacles, and a evening newspaper, I
folded his clothes tidy, and come down-stairs with the paper in my
hand. There must be something particular in it, thinks I, as I set
down in the parlour here, and opened it in the middle, and smoothed it
out. There was, sir.
"The very first words I saw, in big letters, at the top of the column
was--'Dreadful and Mysterious Discovery in Victoria Park. Ruthless
Murder of a Young Girl. Stabbed to the Heart! A Bunch of Blood-stained
Daisies!'
"Can you imagine my feelings, sir?
"I could scarce believe my eyes. But there it was, staring me in the
face, like a great bill on the walls printed in red. The ink was
black, of course, but as I looked at the awful words they grew larger
and larger, and their colour seemed to change to the colour of blood."