A DOCTOR'S STORY.

Press, Volume L, Issue 8596, 25 September 1893, Page 6

A DOCTOR'S STORY.

The Speaker. Once in the course of a medical career of nearly fifty years I saved a patient's life. In otlier cases I have my doubts ; but in that one I'm certain of it. You 11 take another cigarette? What, no? Then black coffue !

The patient was a lady—younpr, and not unpleasing. That gave mc an interest in the case. ' She lived at Surbiton. I had never seen her before I was called in for this particular illness; but one day- her husband came to my house in Harley street and wanted mc to go down postha9te with him to look at her. He was particularly anxious to get a first rate London specialist's opinion. They d had a general practitioner down at their own place, he said, but I hat wasn't enough for him; he distrusted G.P.'s. He insisted upon getting the very best advice for her. A tall dark man, the.husband, with keen deep-sunken eyes. He looked a Spaniard, and might have been Grand Inquisitor. But what struck mc most about him was the queer lit le f<cr. that, though he expressed the greatest anxiety, and desired to show the ueepest aiFecion, I couldn't help feeling it was my opinion he wanted far more than my assistance. He laid great stress upon the point of my being an undoubted authority. Whatever, I thought of the case he would know it was right. He didn't care about the diagnosis of these suburban doctors ; he didn't trust their prognosis; but I—if I told him hia wife would live, he could be sure she would recover; and if I told him—well, the worst—why, he knew he must accept it with resignation. (Cambric pockethnndkerchief.) I went down with him and saw her, She was very ill indeed, A most pathetic young woman. She routed my keenest sympathy. But it was the queerest case I ever knew inmylife. I could make nothing of it. I told the husband she was seriously ill; I doubted her recovery, she had sunk so low ; but 1 dirtn'c understand i!". His eyes had an inscrutable gleam in them when I told him that; but he answered very anxiously, "Can't you put a name to it?" It would bs satisfactory at least to know what it is that's the matter with her."

" No, I can't," I replied. "In the whole course of my experience I never yet saw anything like it." His face fell a little. Long medical practice has made mc observe the quick shades of emotion, that pass over f ices. "I was in hopes yoa would have under stood it," he said, very slowly, with a hard look into my eyes, pointing each word wii h emphasis. "it was for that I wenr. to the best London authority. I thought these ordinary suburban men might fail to niase it out, but that I was sure of an' opinion from a great London specialist". They told mc your forte was diagnosis." Clever, of him, I felt at tiie time, to try thus to work upon my professional priae and my professi >nal susceptibilities. He fancied he could force mc or cajole mc into giving it a name. That was decidedly sharp of him, but it overshot the marly. It gave mc a first clue to the real nature of her illness.

Next day, and next again, I went down to see my pat lent. Money was no object, the affectionate husband said often. All he wanted was to be sure his dear wife had the benefit ot the very best medical advice and assistance. The third day I was so puzzled I took my assistant down with mc without telling him why. I sent him in to see her. When he camoout I said to him, " Well, Harvey, what do you make of it?" "I don't make anything of it, he answered. "I can't. It looks to mc unique. I don't in the least understand ir." "Neither do I," I replied,, stroking my chin. " ThatS why I brought you to see it." We sat and stared at one another in silence for a minute. Then my assistant said, very dubiously. "The fact is, Sir Everard, it appears to mc " " Well; co on, man ! Out with it 1" " Not a case of natural disease at all, but a case of poisoning." '* Precisely my opinion," I answered, giving a start. "I brought you here to confirm it."

I went into the sick Woman's room again. " I want to ask you one question/ I said, in as soothing a voice as possible. " You may think; it an odd one. Is there anybody who would benefit in any way by your death ?' She gazed up at mc feebly. "Not a soul, she answered. " All I have in the world I've left by will to dear Archie." That, settled the question. I felt sure I knew a prescription that would cure her. I went down again to the dinineroom. The husband wii* there sitting uneasily by the window. He-lo.ked at mc with an anxious face. " Well, I've formed an oninion on the case at last," I said, "and so has Dr. Harvey here; but perhaps ir. may distress you or annoy you to hear it.' He glanced nervously at my assistant; then at mc in return. I had placed myself on purpose so that both oar eyes were upon him from every angle. He shuffled in his chair. '' Oh, I'm prepared for the worst," he answered with a sickly emile. " I know she can't recover." " Then do you desire mc to give you the honest opinion I've formed," I asked, " at the risk of offending you?" "Yesi": I want your opinion, he answered; but his lips quivered faintly. "It's that that I called you in for." I stared straight into his eyes. I fixed him with mine. He couldn't avoid them without catching Harvey's. " Then my opinion is this/* I said slowly and distinctly, "that if: your wife dies— you'll be hanged for it." He never moved a muscle of his face; but his colour went wuh a rush—he was white as a ghost in a moment. He rose with an effort.

This is a mauvaise plaisatiterie," he cried, "at such a time as this! A mauvaise plaisanterie!" (He was more than half French, and his native language came natural to him at these critical moments.)

" No plaisanterie at all," I answered, very grim, "but a simple statement of my medical opinion. Look here, Mr So-and-so, we are two ; you are one. Now I give you fair warning. Thi9 lady upstairs is being slowly poisoned. Unless she recovers, we will hold you answerable. You wanted the best advice. Well, now you have got it. Don't suppose you_ can deceive mc by using a little-known poison. I won't lefryou murder her. Tour wife must recover. I have my eye upon you. If anything ever happens to her, now or hereafter, I shall take good care there is full enquiry; and so will Dγ Harvey. I say no more than that. And I wish you a very good morning. To-morrow, when I come, I shall expect to see a marked improvement. And so I did. She was decidedly better. In three weeks she was well. In a month she was at Harrogate. I never undeceived her. She loved the creature; and I allowed her to go on loving him. But I confess I was relieved when fours years later he providentially broke his wretched neck on the Schreckhorn. It unburdened ray mind of the responsibiMty of watching him. In other cases I have ray doubts. But In that one I'm confident I really saved my patient's life; and I should think you agree with mc.