The Crimson Blind
Page 22
CHAPTER XXII
"THE LIGHT THAT FAILED"
Bell followed Dr. Cross into the hospital with a sense of familiarpleasure. The cool, sweet smell of the place, the decorous silence, theorder of it all appealed to him strongly. It was as the old war-horsewho sniffs the battle from afar. And the battle with death was ever ajoy to Bell.
"This is all contrary to regulations, of course," he suggested.
"Well, it is," Cross admitted. "But I am an enthusiast, and one doesn'toften get a chance of chatting with a brilliant, erratic star likeyourself. Besides, our man is not in the hospital proper. He is in akind of annexe by my own quarters, and he scoffs the suggestion ofbeing nursed."
Bell nodded, understanding perfectly. He came at length to abrilliantly-lighted room, where a dark man with an exceedingly highforehead and wonderfully piercing eyes was sitting up in bed. The darkeyes lighted with pleasure as they fell upon Bell's queer, shamblingfigure and white hair.
"The labour we delight in physics pain," he greeted with a laugh and agroan. "It's worth a badly twisted shoulder to have the pleasure ofseeing Hatherly Bell again. My dear fellow, how are you?"
The voice was low and pleasant, there was no trace of insanity about thespeaker. Bell shook the proffered hand. For some little time theconversation proceeded smoothly enough. The stranger was a good talker;his remarks were keen and to the point.
"I hope you will be comfortable here," Bell suggested.
A faint subtle change came over the other's face.
"All but one thing," he whispered. "Don't make a fuss about it, becauseCross is very kind. But I can't stand the electric light. It reminds meof the great tragedy of my life. But for the electric light I should be afree man with a good practice to-day."
"So you are harping on that string again," Bell said, coldly. "I fanciedthat I had argued you out of that. You know perfectly well that it is allimagination, Heritage."
Heritage passed his left hand across his eyes in a confused kind of way.
"When you look at one like that I fancy so," he said. "When I was underyour hands I was forgetting all about it. And now it has all come backagain. Did I tell you all about it, Cross?"
Bell gave Cross a significant glance, and the latter shook his head.
"Well, it was this way," Heritage began, eagerly. His eyes were gleamingnow, his whole aspect was changed. "I was poor and struggling, but I hada grand future before me. There was a patient of mine, a rich man, whohad a deadly throat trouble. And he was going to leave me all his moneyif I cured him. He told me he had made a will to that effect, and he haddone so. And I was in direst straits for some ready cash. When I came tooperate I used an electric light, a powerful light--you know what I mean.The operation failed and my patient died. The operation failed becausethe electric light went out at a critical time.
"People said it was a great misfortune for me, because I was on thethreshold of a new discovery which would have made my name. Nothing ofthe kind. I deliberately cut the positive wire of the electric light sothat I should fail, and so that my patient might die and I might getall his money at once. And he did die, and nobody suspected me--nobodycould possibly have found me out. Then I went mad and they put me underBell's care. I should have got well, only he gave up his practice anddrifted into the world again. My good, kind friend Reginald Hensonheard of my case; he interested some people in me and placed me where Iam at present."
"So Reginald Henson knows all about it?" Bell asked, drily.
"My dear fellow, he is the best friend I have in the world. He was mostinterested in my case. I have gone over it with him a hundred times. Ishowed him exactly how it was done. And now you know why I loathe theelectric light. When it shines in my eyes it maddens me; it brings backto me the recollection of that dreadful time, it causes me to--"
"Heritage," Bell said, sternly, "close your eyes at once, and be silent."
The patient obeyed instantly. He had not forgotten the old habit ofobedience. When he opened his eyes again at length he looked round him ina foolish, shamefaced manner.
"I--I am afraid I have been rambling," he muttered. "Pray don't noticeme, Bell; if you are as good a fellow as you used to be, come and see meagain. I'm tired now."
Bell gave the desired assurance, and he and Cross left the room together.
"Any sort of truth in what he has been saying?" asked the latter.
"Very little," Bell replied. "Heritage is an exceedingly clever fellowwho has not yet recovered from a bad breakdown some years ago. I hadnearly cured him at one time, but he seems to have lapsed into bad waysagain. Some day, when I have time, I shall take up his case once more."
"Did he operate, or try some new throat cure?"
"Exactly. He was on the verge of discovering some way of operating forthroat cases with complete success. You can imagine how excited he wasover his discovery. Unfortunately the patient he experimented on diedunder the operation, not because the light went out or any nonsense ofthat kind, but from failure of the heart's action owing to excitement.Heritage had no sleep for a fortnight, and he broke down altogether. Formonths he was really mad, and when his senses came back to him he hadthat hallucination. Some day it will go, and some day Heritage will takeup the dropped threads of his discovery and the world will be all thebetter for it. And now, will you do me a favour?"
"I will do anything that lies in my power."
"Then be good enough to let me have a peep at the man who was foundhalf-murdered in my friend David Steel's conservatory. I'm interested inthat case."
Cross hesitated for a moment.
"All right," he said. "There can't be any harm in that. Come this way."
Bell strolled along with the air of a man who is moved by no more thanordinary curiosity. But from the first he had made up his mind not tolose this opportunity. He had not the remotest idea what he expected tofind, but he had a pretty good idea that he was on the verge of animportant discovery. He came at length to the bedside of the mysteriousstranger. The man was lying on his back in a state of coma, his breathcame heavily between his parted lips.
Bell bent low partly to examine the patient, partly to hide his facefrom Cross. If Bell had made any discovery he kept the fact rigidlyto himself.
"Looks very young," he muttered. "But then he is one of those men whonever grow any hair on their faces. Young as he looks, I should judge himto be at least forty-five, and, if I am not mistaken, he is a man who hasheard the chimes at midnight or later. I'm quite satisfied."
"It's more than I am," Cross said, when at length he and his visitor werestanding outside together. "Look here, Bell, you're a great friend ofSteel's, whom I believe to be a very good fellow. I don't want to get himinto any harm, but a day or two ago I found this letter in a pocket-bookin a belt worn by our queer patient. Steel says the fellow is a perfectstranger to him, and I believe that statement. But what about thisletter? I ought to have sent it to the police, but I didn't. Read it."
And Cross proceeded to take a letter from his pocket. It was on thickpaper; the stamped address given was "15, Downend Terrace." There was noheading, merely the words "Certainly, with pleasure, I shall be home; infact, I am home every night till 12.30, and you may call any time up tillthen. If you knock quietly on the door I shall hear you.--D.S."
"What do you make of it?" Cross asked.
"It looks as if your patient had called at Steel's house by appointment,"Bell admitted. "Here is the invitation undoubtedly in Steel'shandwriting. Subsequently the poor fellow is found in Steel's housenearly murdered, and yet Steel declares solemnly that the man is aperfect stranger to him. It is a bad business, but I assure you thatSteel is the soul of honour. Cross, would you be so good as to let mehave that letter for two or three days?"
"Very well," Cross said, after a little hesitation. "Good-night."
Bell went on his way homeward with plenty of food for thought.
He stopped just for a moment to light a cigar.
"Getting towards the light," he mutter
ed; "getting along. The light isnot going to fail after all. I wonder what Reginald Henson would say ifhe only knew that I had been to the hospital and recognised our mutualfriend Van Sneck there!"