One glance showed Arthur this--one glance before he flew breathlessly to the door and alarmed the house.
The man whom the landlord called "Ben" was the first to appear on the stairs.In three words Arthur told him what had happened, and sent him for the nearest doctor.
I, who tell you this story, was then staying with a medical friend of mine, in practice at Doncaster, taking care of his patients for him during his absence in London; and I, for the time being, was the nearest doctor.They had sent for me from the inn when the stranger was taken ill in the afternoon, but I was not at home, and medical assistance was sought for elsewhere.
When the man from The Two Robins rang the night-bell, I was just thinking of going to bed.Naturally enough, I did not believe a word of his story about "a dead man who had come to life again."However, I put on my hat, armed myself with one or two bottles of restorative medicine, and ran to the inn, expecting to find nothing more remarkable, when I got there, than a patient in a fit.
My surprise at finding that the man had spoken the literal truth was almost, if not quite, equaled by my astonishment at finding myself face to face with Arthur Holliday as soon as I entered the bedroom.It was no time then for giving or seeking explanations.
We just shook hands amazedly, and then I ordered everybody but Arthur out of the room, and hurried to the man on the bed.
The kitchen fire had not been long out.There was plenty of hot water in the boiler, and plenty of flannel to be had.With these, with my medicines, and with such help as Arthur could render under my direction, I dragged the man literally out of the jaws of death.In less than an hour from the time when I had been called in, he was alive and talking in the bed on which he had been laid out to wait for the coroner's inquest.
You will naturally ask me what had been the matter with him, and I might treat you, in reply, to a long theory, plentifully sprinkled with what the children call hard words.I prefer telling you that, in this case, cause and effect could not be satisfactorily joined together by any theory whatever.There are mysteries in life and the conditions of it which human science has not fathomed yet; and I candidly confess to you that, in bringing that man back to existence, I was, morally speaking, groping haphazard in the dark.I know (from the testimony of the doctor who attended him in the afternoon) that the vital machinery, so far as its action is appreciable by our senses, had, in this case, unquestionably stopped, and I am equally certain (seeing that I recovered him) that the vital principle was not extinct.When I add that he had suffered from a long and complicated illness, and that his whole nervous system was utterly deranged, I have told you all I really know of the physical condition of my dead-alive patient at the Two Robins Inn.
When he "came to," as the phrase goes, he was a startling object to look at, with his colorless face, his sunken cheeks, his wild black eyes, and his long black hair.The first question he asked me about himself when he could speak made me suspect that I had been called in to a man in my own profession.I mentioned to him my surmise, and he told me that I was right.
He said he had come last from Paris, where he had been attached to a hospital; that he had lately returned to England, on his way to Edinburgh, to continue his studies; that he had been taken ill on the journey; and that he had stopped to rest and recover himself at Doncaster.He did not add a word about his name, or who he was, and of course I did not question him on the subject.
All I inquired when he ceased speaking was what branch of the profession he intended to follow.
"Any branch," he said, bitterly, "which will put bread into the mouth of a poor man."At this, Arthur, who had been hitherto watching him in silent curiosity, burst out impetuously in his usual good-humored way:
"My dear fellow" (everybody was "my dear fellow" with Arthur), "now you have come to life again, don't begin by being down-hearted about your prospects.I'll answer for it I can help you to some capital thing in the medical line, or, if I can't, Iknow my father can."
The medical student looked at him steadily.
"Thank you," he said, coldly; then added, "May I ask who your father is?""He's well enough known all about this part of the country,"replied Arthur."He is a great manufacturer, and his name is Holliday."My hand was on the man's wrist during this brief conversation.
The instant the name of Holliday was pronounced I felt the pulse under my fingers flutter, stop, go on suddenly with a bound, and beat afterward for a minute or two at the fever rate.
"How did you come here?" asked the stranger, quickly, excitably, passionately almost.
Arthur related briefly what had happened from the time of his first taking the bed at the inn.
"I am indebted to Mr.Holliday's son, then, for the help that has saved my life," said the medical student, speaking to himself, with a singular sarca** in his voice."Come here!"He held out, as he spoke, his long, white, bony right hand.
"With all my heart," said Arthur, taking his hand cordially."Imay confess it now," he continued, laughing, "upon my honor, you almost frightened me out of my wits."The stranger did not seem to listen.His wild black eyes were fixed with a look of eager interest on Arthur's face, and his long bony fingers kept tight hold of Arthur's hand.Young Holliday, on his side, returned the gaze, amazed and puzzled by the medical student's odd language and manners.The two faces were close together; I looked at them, and, to my amazement, Iwas suddenly impressed by the sense of a likeness between them--not in features or complexion, but solely in expression.It must have been a strong likeness, or I should certainly not have found it out, for I am naturally slow at detecting resemblances between faces.
