CHAPTER XVIII
THE NAPOLEON OF THE MOORS
On the bear-skin rug, with his back to the fire, stood Dr. RobertMackenzie, known to his friends as "Dr. Rob" or "Old Robbie," accordingto their degrees of intimacy.
Jane's first impression was of a short, stout man, in a sealskinwaistcoat which had seen better days, a light box-cloth overcoat threesizes too large for him, a Napoleonic attitude,--little spindle legsplanted far apart, arms folded on chest, shoulders hunched up,--whichled one to expect, as the eye travelled upwards, an ivory-whitecomplexion, a Roman nose, masterful jaw, and thin lips folded in a lineof conscious power. Instead of which one found a red, freckled face, anose which turned cheerfully skyward, a fat pink chin, and droopingsandy moustache. The only striking feature of the face was a pair ofkeen blue eyes, which, when turned upon any one intently, almostdisappeared beneath bushy red eyebrows and became little points ofturquoise light.
Jane had not been in his presence two minutes before she perceivedthat, when his mind was working, he was entirely unconscious of hisbody, which was apt to do most peculiar things automatically; so thathis friends had passed round the remark: "Robbie chews up dozens ofgood pen-holders, while Dr. Mackenzie is thinking out excellentprescriptions."
When Jane entered, his eyes were fixed upon an open letter, which sheinstinctively knew to be Deryck's, and he did not look up at once. Whenhe did look up, she saw his unmistakable start of surprise. He openedhis mouth to speak, and Jane was irresistibly reminded of a tamegoldfish at Overdene, which used to rise to the surface when theduchess dropped crumbs. He closed it without uttering a word, andturned again to Deryck's letter; and Jane felt herself to be the crumb,or rather the camel, which he was finding it difficult to swallow.
She waited in respectful silence, and Deryck's words passed withcalming effect through the palpitating suspense of her brain. "TheGaelic mind works slowly, though it works exceeding sure. He will beexceeding sure that I am a verra poor judge o' women."
At last the little man on the hearth-rug lifted his eyes again toJane's; and, alas, how high he had to lift them!
"Nurse--er?" he said inquiringly, and Jane thought his searching eyeslooked like little bits of broken blue china in a hay-stack.
"Rosemary Gray," replied Jane meekly, with a curtsey in her voice;feeling as if they were rehearsing amateur theatricals at Overdene, andthe next minute the duchess's cane would rap the floor and they wouldbe told to speak up and not be so slow.
"Ah," said Dr. Robert Mackenzie, "I see."
He stared hard at the carpet in a distant corner of the room, thenwalked across and picked up a spline broken from a bass broom; broughtit back to the hearth-rug; examined it with minute attention; then putone end between his teeth and began to chew it.
Jane wondered what was the correct thing to do at this sort ofinterview, when a doctor neither sat down himself nor suggested thatthe nurse should do so. She wished she had asked Deryck. But he couldnot possibly have enlightened her, because the first thing he alwayssaid to a nurse was: "My dear Nurse SO-AND-SO, pray sit down. Peoplewho have much unavoidable standing to do should cultivate the habit ofseating themselves comfortably at every possible opportunity."
But the stout little person on the hearth-rug was not Deryck. So Janestood at attention, and watched the stiff bit of bass wag up and down,and shorten, inch by inch. When it had finally disappeared, Dr. RobertMackenzie spoke again.
"So you have arrived, Nurse Gray," he said.
"Truly the mind of a Scotchman works slowly," thought Jane, but she wasthankful to detect the complete acceptance of herself in his tone.Deryck was right; and oh the relief of not having to take thisunspeakable little man into her confidence in this matter of thedeception to be practised on Garth.
"Yes, sir, I have arrived," she said.
Another period of silence. A fragment of the bass broom reappeared andvanished once more, before Dr. Mackenzie spoke again.
"I am glad you have arrived, Nurse Gray," he said.
"I am glad TO have arrived, sir," said Jane gravely, almost expectingto hear the duchess's delighted "Ha, ha!" from the wings. The littlecomedy was progressing.
Then suddenly she became aware that during the last few minutes Dr.Mackenzie's mind had been concentrated upon something else. She had notfilled it at all. The next moment it was turned upon her and two swiftturquoise gleams from under the shaggy brows swept over her, with therapidity and brightness of search-lights. Dr. Mackenzie commencedspeaking quickly, with a wonderful rolling of r's.
"I understand, Miss Gray, you have come to minister to the patient'smind rather than to his body. You need not trouble to explain. I haveit from Sir Deryck Brand, who prescribed a nurse-companion for thepatient, and engaged you. I fully agreed with his prescription; and,allow me to say, I admire its ingredients."
Jane bowed, and realised how the duchess would be chuckling. What aninsufferable little person! Jane had time to think this, while hewalked across to the table-cloth, bent over it, and examined an ancientspot of ink. Finding a drop of candle grease near it, he removed itwith his thumb nail; brought it carefully to the fire, and laid it onthe coals. He watched it melt, fizzle, and flare, with an intenseconcentration of interest; then jumped round on Jane, and caught herlook of fury.
"And I think there remains very little for me to say to you about thetreatment, Miss Gray," he finished calmly. "You will have receivedminute instructions from Sir Deryck himself. The great thing now is tohelp the patient to take an interest in the outer world. The temptationto persons who suddenly become totally blind, is to form a habit ofliving entirely in a world within; a world of recollection,retrospection, and imagination; the only world, in fact, in which theycan see."
Jane made a quick movement of appreciation and interest. After all shemight learn something useful from this eccentric little Scotchman. Ohto keep his attention off rubbish on the carpet, and grease spots onthe table-cloth!
"Yes?" she said. "Do tell me more."
"This," continued Dr. Mackenzie, "is our present difficulty with Mr.Dalmain. There seems to be no possibility of arousing his interest inthe outside world. He refuses to receive visitors; he declines to hearhis letters. Hours pass without a word being spoken by him. Unless youhear him speak to me or to his valet, you will easily suppose yourselfto have a patient who has lost the power of speech as well as the giftof sight. Should he express a wish to speak to me alone when we arewith him, do not leave the room. Walk over to the fireplace and remainthere. I desire that you should hear, that when he chooses to rouse andmake an effort, he is perfectly well able to do so. The most importantpart of your duties, Nurse Gray, will be the aiding him day by day toresume life,--the life of a blind man, it is true; but not thereforenecessarily an inactive life. Now that all danger of inflammation fromthe wounds has subsided, he may get up, move about, learn to find hisway by sound and touch. He was an artist by profession. He will neverpaint again. But there are other gifts which may form reasonableoutlets to an artistic nature."
He paused suddenly, having apparently caught sight of another greasespot, and walked over to the table; but the next instant jumped roundon Jane, quick as lightning, with a question.
"Does he play?" said Dr. Rob.
But Jane was on her guard, even against accidental surprises.
"Sir Deryck did not happen to mention to me, Dr. Mackenzie, whether Mr.Dalmain is musical or not."
"Ah, well," said the little doctor, resuming his Napoleonic attitude inthe centre of the hearth-rug; "you must make it your business to findout. And, by the way, Nurse, do you play yourself?"
"A little," said Jane.
"Ah," said Dr. Rob. "And I dare say you sing a little, too?"
Jane acquiesced.
"In that case, my dear lady, I leave most explicit orders that youneither sing a little nor play a little to Mr. Dalmain. We, who haveour sight, can just endure while people who 'play a little' show us howlittle they can play; because we are able to look round about u
s andthink of other things. But to a blind man, with an artist's sensitivesoul, the experience might culminate in madness. We must not risk it. Iregret to appear uncomplimentary, but a patient's welfare must takeprecedence of all other considerations."
Jane smiled. She was beginning to like Dr. Rob.
"I will be most careful," she said, "neither to play nor to sing to Mr.Dalmain."
"Good," said Dr. Mackenzie. "But now let me tell you what you mostcertainly may do, by-and-by. Lead him to the piano. Place him thereupon a seat where he will feel secure; none of your twirly, ricketystools. Make a little notch on the key-board by which he can easilyfind middle C. Then let him relieve his pent-up soul by the painting ofsound-pictures. You will find this will soon keep him happy for hours.And, if he is already something of a musician,--as that huge grandpiano, with no knick-knacks on it indicates,--he may begin that sort ofthing at once, before he is ready to be worried with the Braillesystem, or any other method of instructing the blind. But contrive aneasy way--a little notch in the wood-work below the note--by means ofwhich, without hesitation or irritation, he can locate himselfinstantly at middle C. Never mind the other notes. It is all the SEEINGhe will require when once he is at the piano. Ha, ha! Not bad for aScotchman, eh, Nurse Gray?"
But Jane could not laugh; though somewhere in her mental background sheseemed to hear laughter and applause from the duchess. This was nocomedy to Jane,--her blind Garth at the piano, his dear beautiful headbent over the keys, his fingers feeling for that pathetic little notch,to be made by herself, below middle C. She loathed this individual whocould make a pun on the subject of Garth's blindness, and, in the backof her mind, Tommy seemed to join the duchess, flapping up and down onhis perch and shrieking: "Kick him out! Stop his jaw!"
"And now," said Dr. Mackenzie unexpectedly, "the next thing to be done,Nurse Gray, is to introduce you to the patient."
Jane felt the blood slowly leave her face and concentrate in a terriblepounding at her heart. But she stood her ground, and waited silently.
Dr. Mackenzie rang the bell. Simpson appeared.
"A decanter of sherry, a wine-glass, and a couple of biscuits," saidDr. Rob.
Simpson vanished.
"Little beast!" thought Jane. "At eleven o'clock in the morning!".
Dr. Rob stood, and waited; tugging spitefully at his red moustache, andlooking intently out of the window.
Simpson reappeared, placed a small tray on the table, and went quietlyout, closing the door behind him.
Dr. Rob poured out a glass of sherry, drew up a chair to the table, andsaid: "Now, Nurse, sit down and drink that, and take a biscuit with it."
Jane protested. "But, indeed, doctor, I never--"
"I have no doubt you 'never,'" said Dr. Rob, "especially at eleveno'clock in the morning. But you will to-day; so do not waste any timein discussion. You have had a long night journey; you are goingupstairs to a very sad sight indeed, a strain on the nerves andsensibilities. You have come through a trying interview with me, andyou are praising Heaven it is over. But you will praise Heaven withmore fervency when you have drunk the sherry. Also you have beenstanding during twenty-three minutes and a half. I always stand tospeak myself, and I prefer folk should stand to listen. I can nevertalk to people while they loll around. But you will walk upstairs allthe more steadily, Nurse Rosemary Gray, if you sit down now for fiveminutes at this table."
Jane obeyed, touched and humbled. So, after all, it was a kind,comprehending heart under that old sealskin waistcoat; and a shrewdunderstanding of men and matters, in spite of the erratic, somewhatobjectionable exterior. While she drank the wine and finished thebiscuits, he found busy occupation on the other side of the room,polishing the window with his silk pocket-handkerchief; making a queerhumming noise all the time, like a bee buzzing up the pane. He seemedto have forgotten her presence; but, just as she put down the emptyglass, he turned and, walking straight across the room, laid his handupon her shoulder.
"Now, Nurse," he said, "follow me upstairs, and, just at first, speakas little as possible. Remember, every fresh voice intruding into thestill depths of that utter blackness, causes an agony of bewildermentand disquietude to the patient. Speak little and speak low, and may GodAlmighty give you tact and wisdom."
There was a dignity of conscious knowledge and power in the smallquaint figure which preceded Jane up the staircase. As she followed,she became aware that her spirit leaned on his and felt sustained andstrengthened. The unexpected conclusion of his sentence, old-fashionedin its wording, yet almost a prayer, gave her fresh courage. "May GodAlmighty give you tact and wisdom," he had said, little guessing howgreatly she needed them. And now another voice, echoing throughmemory's arches to organ-music, took up the strain: "Where Thou artGuide, no ill can come." And with firm though noiseless step, Janefollowed Dr. Mackenzie into the roam where Garth was lying, helpless,sightless, and disfigured.
The Rosary Page 20