CHAPTER VIII.
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 addresswas in his own handwriting. He carried it home before opening it. Thewriting 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 h
e 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. Thechange in him was even greater than it had seemed to be when he waslying on the sofa in his room; and Tom Roberts, who had been theGeneral's soldier-servant years before, and had been in his servicesince he left the army, had difficulty in restraining his tears as heentered, with his master leaning heavily on his arm.
"I am shaky, my dear Hilda, very shaky," the General said. "I feel justas 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 tellsme 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 recallmemories that had somehow escaped him, and Hilda, resolutely repressingthe 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 bytrain, uncle. Dr. Pearson does not think that you are strong enough forthat yet. He is going to arrange for a comfortable carriage in which youcan lie down and rest. We shall make an early start. He will arrange forhorses 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, youknow."
"Yes, I have driven up from there by the coach many a time when I was aboy, 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 hismaster's shoulder, prompting him occasionally when his memory failedhim.
"You must get strong very fast, uncle, for Dr. Pearson said that youcannot 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 thatI shall be fit to go early next week; it is not as if we were going toride down. I was always fond of riding, and I hope I shall soon be afterthe 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-huntingbegins."
So the conversation dragged on for another half hour, the General'swords coming slower and slower, and at the end of that time he droppedasleep. Hilda made a sign to Roberts to stay with him, and then ran upto her own room, closed the door behind her, and burst into a passion oftears. 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 totell you that the General was sleeping as peacefully as a child, and hethought it was like enough that he would not wake for hours. He saidthat 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 onwhich she had lain down, and buried herself in the depths of a largecushioned chair. There she sat thinking. For the first time she realizedhow immense was the change in her uncle. She had seen him several timeseach day, but he had spoken but a few words, and it only seemed to herthat he was drowsy and disinclined to talk. Now she saw how great wasthe mental as well as the physical weakness.
"It is terrible!" she repeated over and over again to herself. "What awreck--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 dooropened very gently, and a voice said, "May I come in?" She sprang to herfeet as if electrified, while a glad cry of "Netta!" broke from herlips. 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 sometime 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 wasgoing to remain away after your letter? Aunt is with me; she isdownstairs, tidying herself up. We shut up the house and left thegardener 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 weneed not bother about them. I told aunt that I should not be down for anhour. Mrs. Brown is looking after her, and getting her a cup of tea, andI asked her to bring two cups up here. I thought that you would preferfor us to have a chat by ourselves. Now tell me all about it, dear; thatis, 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 heis 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 definiteplans he was glad to accept the doctor's offer to take charge of myuncle. He seemed, from what little I saw of him, a pleasant man, andspoke in a cheerful voice, which will be a great thing for uncle. Ishould think that he is six or seven and twenty. Dr. Pearson said he waslikely to become a very distinguished man in his profession some day. Heis going to begin at once. He will not sleep here, but will spend mostof his time here, partly because he wants to study the case, and partlybecause he wants uncle to get accustomed to him. He will travel downwith us, which will be a great comfort to me, for there is no saying howuncle may stand the journey. I suggested that we should have anothercarriage, as the invalid carriage has room for only one inside besidesthe patient, but he laughed, and said that he would ride on the box withTom Roberts; there will be room for two there, as we are going to postdown. Of course, you and your aunt will go down by train, and be thereto meet us; it will make it so much brighter and more cheerful havingyou to receive us than if we had to arrive all alone, with no one to saywelcome."
"And is your uncle so very weak?"
"Terribly weak--weak both mentally and physically," and she gave anaccount of the interview that afternoon.
"That is bad indeed, Hilda; worse than I had expected. But with countryair, and you and me to amuse him, to say nothing of the doctor, we mayhope that he will soon be a very different man."
"Well, I will not stay talking here any longer, Netta; we have left youraunt half an hour alone, and if she were not the kindest soul in theworld, she would feel hurt at being so neglected, after coming all thisway 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; everythingseemed shaken, everything looked hopeless. There seemed to have been asort of moral earthquake that had turned everything in my lifetopsy-turvy, but now I feel hopeful again. With you by my side I thinkthat I can bear even the worst."
They went down to the drawing room, where they found Mrs. Brown, thehousekeeper, having a long gossip over what had taken place with MissPurcell, whom, although a stranger, she was unaffectedly glad to s
ee, asit seemed to take some of her responsibilities off her shoulders, andshe knew that Netta's society would be invaluable to Hilda.
It was not until a week later that, after another consultation, thedoctors agreed that it was as well that the General should be moved downto his country place. Dr. Pearson was opinion that there was someimprovement, but that it was very slight; the others could see no changesince they had seen him ten days before. However, they agreed with theircolleague that although there might be a certain amount of danger inmoving him to the country, it was best to risk that, as the change mightpossibly 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. Thesymptoms do not tally with those one would expect to find after anyordinary sort of seizure, although certainly they would point toparalysis rather than epilepsy. I should, had the case come before me inthe ordinary way in the ward of a hospital, have come to the conclusionthat the seizure itself and the after-effects pointed rather to theadministration of some drug than to any other cause. I admit that I amnot acquainted with any drug whose administration would lead to any suchresults; but then I know of no other manner in which they could bebrought about save by some lesion of a blood vessel in the brain of sounusual a character that no such case has hitherto been reported in anywork with which I am acquainted. This, I say, would be my first theoryin the case of a patient of whose previous history I was entirelyunaware, and who came under my charge in a hospital ward; but I admitthat in the present case it cannot be entertained for a moment, and Imust, during my attendance upon General Mathieson, watch closely forsymptoms 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 theleading men of his profession. The theory he had enunciated had notoccurred to any of them, but, as he spoke, they all recognized that thesymptoms might under other circumstances have led them to a similarconclusion. They were silent for a minute when he ceased speaking, thenSir 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 topoint to some obscure form of poisoning, since they do not accord withwhat 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 meetwith a case possessing unusual or altogether exceptional features, tofall back upon the theory of poisoning. In this case, fortunately, thecircumstances are such as to preclude the possibility of entertainingthe 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 amysterious and obscure case; and knowing you as I do, I am sure that youwill mention this theory, even as a theory, to no one.
"We are all aware that there are many cases which come before us wherewe may entertain suspicions, and strong suspicions, that the patient hasbeen poisoned, and yet we dare not take any steps because, in the firstplace, 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 weremistaken, it would be nothing short of professional ruin. Here, as yousaid, the theory is happily irreconcilable with the circumstances of thecase, and no drug known to European science would produce so strange aseizure or the after-effects. Of course, as we all know, on the westcoast of Africa, and it is believed in India, the natives are acquaintedwith poisons which are wholly unknown, and will probably remain unknown,since medical men who have endeavored to investigate the matter havealmost always fallen victims themselves to poisons administered by thepeople whose secrets they were endeavoring to discover.
"However, we can happily put that altogether aside. Dr. Pearson tells usthat he intends to go down once a fortnight, and has promised to furnishus with the results of his own observations, and his own reports of thisvery interesting case. If General Mathieson had, in the course of hismilitary career, ever been struck in the head by a bullet, I should sayunhesitatingly that some splinter, possibly very minute, had obtrudedinto the brain matter; but this has, I learn, not been the case. Theonly serious injury that he has ever received was when he was terriblytorn and nearly killed by a tiger some twenty years ago in India. It maybe useful to you, Dr. Leeds, to keep this in your mind. There can be nodoubt that scratches and bites, even of the domestic cat, occasionallygive rise to violent inflammations, and probably, indeed I believe it tobe 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 casesremain latent for a considerable time, until some circumstance mayarouse it into activity. I would suggest that should any scars caused atthat time remain, you should examine them carefully, and ascertainwhether there is any sign of inflammatory action there. I grant theimprobability 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 aloss to explain what we see, it is as well to look for the cause inevery direction, however improbable it may appear."
"Thank you, Sir Henry; I will certainly do so. I was not aware before ofthe General having suffered such an injury, and I will go this afternoonand spend a few hours in looking through the medical works at thelibrary of the India Office to see if there are any records of seriousdisturbance caused in the system by wounds inflicted by tigers aconsiderable time after they have apparently healed."
The meeting then broke up, and two days later General Mathieson wastaken down to his seat in Warwickshire. Post horses were in readinessall along the road, and the journey was accomplished quickly and withoutfatigue to the patient, who slept the greater part of the distance. Ateach change Dr. Leeds got down and had two or three minutes' talk withHilda, and when the General was awake gave him a spoonful of restorativemedicine. His presence close at hand was a great comfort to Hilda, uponwhom the strain of watching her uncle was very great, and she wasthankful indeed when they arrived at the end of the journey, and foundNetta and her aunt, who had gone down by that morning's train togetherwith the housekeeper and her own maid, waiting on the steps to receivethem.