CHAPTER I.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIX, Issue XXVII, 25 December 1897, Page 6 (Supplement)

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTION. HAT disease does not show itself in every IJV I B All. generation is no argument against its a / jiM existence. Gout, for instance, often does Al I l/° not revea l itself for several successive e> generations. Circumstances unfavourable to its development have retarded or —-A checked its growth. Lunacy undoubtedly runs in families, but , ——* it is always dormant in some members. * s reasona bl e to suppose that it is MH •1/1 caused by bacilli as •flillV surely as is any other I k-. .MH ’l|r disease. One mem- W

ber may have a suicidal mania, another a homicidal mania, and so on ; and it is surely reasonable also to believe that the form the madness takes depends on the part of the brain affected by the germs. If, then, this is so, is it not also reasonable to believe that bacilli may affect our mental and moral qualities as well as our bodily ? May not our sense of right and wrong be determined by the presence of organisms which in one individual are harmless, in another destructive of all that is noble and good ? Cannot some special function of the brain be destroyed ? Cannot some noble quality be perverted, or some harmful one so ‘ diseased ’ as to become harmless ? It seems so indeed. I relate in the following pages events as they actually occurred. It can scarcely be wondered at that they confirm me in the opinion that our qualities, good or bad, depend upon living organisms, and that the day is coming when the evil nature or criminal inclination of a man can be removed, not by a series of sermons or by penal punishment, but by surgical operation. What glorious visions of a perfect future, then, reveal themselves to us by these discoveries. Is the day near at hand when the expert physician will be called in to remove impurities of character as he is now called in to remove bodily impurities i

There was nothing more remarkable about my early life than there is about that of many other boys. I left my mother’s apron strings for a public school at the age of twelve, and a few years later I passed on to the University where I was to take my medical degree and afterwards succeed my father in his comfortable Yorkshire practice.

Mordaunt had been my great friend at school, and accompanied me to college. In due course we took our degrees and left for home. It had never occurred to me to look for any future but succeeding to my father’s practice, but as we sat in the railway carriage on our way home, Mordaunt suggested that I should accompany him to Australia and look for a practice there. After a good deal of opposition, I at last got the consent of my parents to do so, and shortly afterwards we were on board the ‘ Britannia, ’ and fairly on our way. For the first two days I was a great sufferer from sea

sickness. The third day out the steward brought me some toast and tea, and —it stayed there. An hour afterwards I went on deck and threw myself into a chair. I was half dozing (for I had not fully recovered), when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looking up saw Mordaunt by my side, and with him two ladies. For the first and only time in my life I was struck dumb by feminine beauty. I have always been an admirer of beautiful women, but never have I been so impressed as on this occasion, and (I may as well say it

at once), I was desperately, madly, intensely in love with Grace Dacre before I had known her three minutes. * * * * * * * * * Mordaunt was the life and soul of the little social circle into which we fell on board. It was he who organised our plays and all the little devices for passing away the time and relieving the monotony of the journey. It was about three days after I had been introduced to Grace Dacre that an unpleasant incident occurred. We had been rehearsing a charade one afternoon, and as I

I had to wear a sailor’s oilskin dress to represent one of the characters, I found it convenient to take off my watch and chain, as well as my scarf pin and ring. I put them down on a small table, and a few minutes afterwards, when I went for them, I found my watch and chain had disappeared. None of us had noticed anyone enter, and, indeed, we all came to the conclusion that no one could possibly have come in and approached the table without being observed by some of us. Still, the watch was gone, and at length we had to give up the search without unravelling the mystery. It was impossible, of course, to suspect any of those present, and the affair ceased to be talked about after a day or two. It would probably have passed out of our memory but that other losses occurred in much the same way. Mordaunt lost a sovereign from a desk that he had left unguarded for a few moments on the saloon table ; but I seemed to be the special victim, for I lost many small trifles, not intrinsically valuable in themselves, but precious to me from their associations. Mordaunt and I occupied one cabin, and used the one adjoining it as a dressing room. From it I lost a gold stud—one of a set that my mother had given me as a parting gift. I had shown it to Grace in the afternoon, and she had been particularly struck with its unique and beautiful design. It grieved me more than I can express to lose it, and I determined to watch until I caught the thief, even if I had to do so every night until

the end of the voyage. After saying ‘good night,’ I retired, and, putting out the lamp, sat down in such a position that, by the dim reflection of the steward’s light, I could see anyone entering our dressing room. No one came. The next night I did the same. I was tired, for we had been dancing on deck all the evening, and was soon half dozing as I sat on a portmanteau by the curtains of our cabin door. Suddenly I awakened, and was all attention, for I heard a stealthy step, and then I saw

some person pass into the dressing room. I stood up without making any noise, and grasped a stout walking stick, with a heavybutt. that I had placed by my side lest I should need it. I was ready to spring out when I heard what was unmistakably the rustle of a woman’s dress, and became aware that I had no man to .deal with but a woman. I quietly opened the curtains and stepped into the narrow passage between the rooms, and then I could see the figure of a woman bending over our luggage. I sprang forward and seized her by the wrist with my left hand, giving it, I fear, a fearful wrench which must have nearly broken it. At the same time I struck a match with the other. I let the wrist go and reeled back while she passed out. The agony of that moment still dwells in my memory as the most awful and painful period of my life. I had recognised—GßACE DACRE!