'Yes,'he said,with a repetition of the bitter laugh.'You have brought a poor devil back into the world,who has no business there.Do I astonish you?Well!I have a fancy of my own for telling you what men in my situation generally keep a secret.Ihave no name and no father.The merciful law of Society tells me Iam Nobody's Son!Ask your father if he will be my father too,and help me on in life with the family name.'
Arthur looked at me,more puzzled than ever.I signed to him to say nothing,and then laid my fingers again on the man's wrist.
No!In spite of the extraordinary speech that he had just made,he was not,as I had been disposed to suspect,beginning to get light-headed.His pulse,by this time,had fallen back to a quiet,slow beat,and his skin was moist and cool.Not a symptom of fever or agitation about him.
Finding that neither of us answered him,he turned to me,and began talking of the extraordinary nature of his case,and asking my advice about the future course of medical treatment to which he ought to subject himself.I said the matter required careful thinking over,and suggested that I should submit certain preions to him the next morning.He told me to write them at once,as he would,most likely,be leaving Doncaster,in the morning,before I was up.It was quite useless to represent to him the folly and danger of such a proceeding as this.He heard me politely and patiently,but held to his resolution,without offering any reasons or any explanations,and repeated to me,that if I wished to give him a chance of seeing my preion,I must write it at once.Hearing this,Arthur volunteered the loan of a travelling writing-case,which,he said,he had with him;and,bringing it to the bed,shook the note-paper out of the pocket of the case forthwith in his usual careless way.With the paper,there fell out on the counterpane of the bed a small packet of sticking-plaster,and a little water-colour drawing of a landscape.
The medical student took up the drawing and looked at it.His eye fell on some initials neatly written,in cypher,in one corner.He started and trembled;his pale face grew whiter than ever;his wild black eyes turned on Arthur,and looked through and through him.
'A pretty drawing,'he said in a remarkably quiet tone of voice.
'Ah!and done by such a pretty girl,'said Arthur.'Oh,such a pretty girl!I wish it was not a landscape -I wish it was a portrait of her!'
'You admire her very much?'
Arthur,half in jest,half in earnest,kissed his hand for answer.
'Love at first sight!'he said,putting the drawing away again.
'But the course of it doesn't run smooth.It's the old story.
She's monopolised as usual.Trammelled by a rash engagement to some poor man who is never likely to get money enough to marry her.
It was lucky I heard of it in time,or I should certainly have risked a declaration when she gave me that drawing.Here,doctor!
Here is pen,ink,and paper all ready for you.'
'When she gave you that drawing?Gave it.Gave it.'He repeated the words slowly to himself,and suddenly closed his eyes.Amomentary distortion passed across his face,and I saw one of his hands clutch up the bedclothes and squeeze them hard.I thought he was going to be ill again,and begged that there might be no more talking.He opened his eyes when I spoke,fixed them once more searchingly on Arthur,and said,slowly and distinctly,'You like her,and she likes you.The poor man may die out of your way.Who can tell that she may not give you herself as well as her drawing,after all?'
Before young Holliday could answer,he turned to me,and said in a whisper,'Now for the preion.'From that time,though he spoke to Arthur again,he never looked at him more.
When I had written the preion,he examined it,approved of it,and then astonished us both by abruptly wishing us good night.
I offered to sit up with him,and he shook his head.Arthur offered to sit up with him,and he said,shortly,with his face turned away,'No.'I insisted on having somebody left to watch him.He gave way when he found I was determined,and said he would accept the services of the waiter at the Inn.
'Thank you,both,'he said,as we rose to go.'I have one last favour to ask -not of you,doctor,for I leave you to exercise your professional discretion -but of Mr.Holliday.'His eyes,while he spoke,still rested steadily on me,and never once turned towards Arthur.'I beg that Mr.Holliday will not mention to any one -least of all to his father -the events that have occurred,and the words that have passed,in this room.I entreat him to bury me in his memory,as,but for him,I might have been buried in my grave.I cannot give my reasons for ****** this strange request.I can only implore him to grant it.'
His voice faltered for the first time,and he hid his face on the pillow.Arthur,completely bewildered,gave the required pledge.
I took young Holliday away with me,immediately afterwards,to the house of my friend;determining to go back to the Inn,and to see the medical student again before he had left in the morning.
