Doctor Therne

by H. Rider Haggard

After the adjournment for lunch Sir John Bell was put into the witness-box, where, with a little additional detail, he repeated almost word for word what he had said before. Listening to him my heart sank, for he made an excellent witness, quiet, self-contained, and, to all appearance, not a little affected by the necessity under which he found himself of exposing the evil doings of a brother practitioner. I noticed with dismay also that his evidence produced a deep effect upon the minds of all present, judge and jury not excepted.

Then came the cross-examination, which certainly was a brilliant performance, for under it were shown that from the beginning Sir John Bell had certainly borne me ill-will; that to his great chagrin I had proved myself his superior in a medical controversy, and that the fever which my wife contracted was in all human probability due to his carelessness and want of precautions while in attendance upon her. When this cross-examination was concluded the court rose for the day, and, being on bail, I escaped from the dock until the following morning.

I returned to my house and went up to the nursery to see the baby, who was a very fine and healthy infant. At first I could scarcely bear to look at this child, remembering always that indirectly it had been the cause of its dear mother’s death. But now, when I was so lonely, for even those who called themselves my friends had fallen away from me in the time of trial, I felt drawn towards the helpless little thing.

I kissed it and put it back into its cradle, and was about to leave the room when the nurse, a respectable widow woman with a motherly air, asked me straight out what were my wishes about the child and by what name it was to be baptised, seeing that when I was in jail she might not be able to ascertain them. The good woman’s question made me wince, but, recognising that in view of eventualities these matters must be arranged, I took a sheet of paper and wrote down my instructions, which were briefly that the child should be named Emma Jane after its mother and mine, and that the nurse, Mrs. Baker, should take it to her cottage, and be paid a weekly sum for its maintenance.

Having settled these disagreeable details I went downstairs, but not to the dinner that was waiting for me, as after the nurse’s questions I did not feel equal to facing the other domestics. Leaving the house I walked about the streets seeking some small eating-place where I could dine without being recognised. As I wandered along wearily I heard a harsh voice behind me calling me by name, and, turning, found that the speaker was Mr. Stephen Strong. Even in the twilight there was no possibility of mistaking his flaming red tie.

“You are worried and tired, doctor,” said the harsh voice. “Why ain’t you with your friends, instead of tramping the streets after that long day in court?”

“Because I have no friends left,” I answered, for I had arrived at that stage of humiliation when a man no longer cares to cloak the truth.

A look of pity passed over Mr. Strong’s fat face, and the lines about the pugnacious mouth softened a little.

“Is that so?” he said. “Well, young man, you’re learning now what happens to those who put their faith in fashionable folk and not in the Lord. Rats can’t scuttle from a sinking ship faster than fashionable folk from a friend in trouble. You come along and have a bit of supper with me and my missis. We’re humble trades-folk, but, perhaps as things are, you won’t mind that.”

I accepted Mr. Strong’s invitation with gratitude, indeed his kindness touched me. Leading me to his principal shop, we passed through it and down a passage to a sitting-room heavily furnished with solid horsehair-seated chairs and a sofa. In the exact centre of this sofa, reading by the light of a lamp with a pink shade which was placed on a table behind her, sat a prim grey-haired woman dressed in a black silk dress and apron and a lace cap with lappets. I noticed at once that the right lappet was larger than the left. Evidently it had been made so with the design of hiding a patch of affected skin below the ear, which looked to me as though it had been caused by the malady called lupus. I noticed further that the little woman was reading an anti-vaccination tract with a fearful picture of a diseased arm upon its cover.