VII
THE OPERATION
Dr. Price was not entirely at ease in his mind as the two doctors droverapidly from the hotel to Major Carteret's. Himself a liberal man, fromhis point of view, he saw no reason why a colored doctor might notoperate upon a white male child,--there are fine distinctions in theapplication of the color line,--but several other physicians had beeninvited, some of whom were men of old-fashioned notions, who might notrelish such an innovation.
This, however, was but a small difficulty compared with what might befeared from Major Carteret himself. For he knew Carteret's unrelentinghostility to anything that savored of recognition of the negro as theequal of white men. It was traditional in Wellington that no coloredperson had ever entered the front door of the Carteret residence, andthat the luckless individual who once presented himself there uponalleged business and resented being ordered to the back door had beenunceremoniously thrown over the piazza railing into a rather thornyclump of rosebushes below. If Miller were going as a servant, to hold abasin or a sponge, there would be no difficulty; but as a surgeon--well,he wouldn't borrow trouble. Under the circumstances the major mightyield a point.
But as they neared the house the major's unyielding disposition loomedup formidably. Perhaps if the matter were properly presented to Dr.Burns, he might consent to withdraw the invitation. It was not yet too,late to send Miller a note.
"By the way, Dr. Burns," he said, "I'm very friendly to Dr. Miller, andshould personally like to have him with us to-night. But--I ought tohave told you this before, but I couldn't very well do so, on suchshort notice, in Miller's presence--we are a conservative people, andour local customs are not very flexible. We jog along in much the sameold way our fathers did. I'm not at all sure that Major Carteret or theother gentlemen would consent to the presence of a negro doctor."
"I think you misjudge your own people," returned Dr. Burns, "they arebroader than you think. We have our prejudices against the negro at theNorth, but we do not let them stand in the way of anything that _we_want. At any rate, it is too late now, and I will accept theresponsibility. If the question is raised, I will attend to it. When Iam performing an operation I must be _aut Caesar, aut nullus_."
Dr. Price was not reassured, but he had done his duty and felt thereward of virtue. If there should be trouble, he would not beresponsible. Moreover, there was a large fee at stake, and Dr. Burns wasnot likely to prove too obdurate.
They were soon at Carteret's, where they found assembled the severalphysicians invited by Dr. Price. These were successively introduced asDrs. Dudley, Hooper, and Ashe, all of whom were gentlemen of goodstanding, socially and in their profession, and considered it a highprivilege to witness so delicate an operation at the hands of so eminenta member of their profession.
Major Carteret entered the room and was duly presented to the famousspecialist. Carteret's anxious look lightened somewhat at sight of thearray of talent present. It suggested, of course, the gravity of theimpending event, but gave assurance of all the skill and care whichscience could afford.
Dr. Burns was shown to the nursery, from which he returned in fiveminutes.
"The case is ready," he announced. "Are the gentlemen all present?"
"I believe so," answered Dr. Price quickly.
Miller had not yet arrived. Perhaps, thought Dr. Price, a happyaccident, or some imperative call, had detained him. This would befortunate indeed. Dr. Burns's square jaw had a very determined look. Itwould be a pity if any acrimonious discussion should arise on the eve ofa delicate operation. If the clock on the mantel would only move faster,the question might never come up.
"I don't see Dr. Miller," observed Dr. Burns, looking around the room."I asked him to come at eight. There are ten minutes yet."
Major Carteret looked up with a sudden frown.
"May I ask to whom you refer?" he inquired, in an ominous tone.
The other gentlemen showed signs of interest, not to say emotion. Dr.Price smiled quizzically.
"Dr. Miller, of your city. He was one of my favorite pupils. He is alsoa graduate of the Vienna hospitals, and a surgeon of unusual skill. Ihave asked him to assist in the operation."
Every eye was turned toward Carteret, whose crimsoned face had set in alook of grim determination.
"The person to whom you refer is a negro, I believe?" he said.
"He is a colored man, certainly," returned Dr. Burns, "though one wouldnever think of his color after knowing him well."
"I do not know, sir," returned Carteret, with an effort at self-control,"what the customs of Philadelphia or Vienna may be; but in the South wedo not call negro doctors to attend white patients. I could not permit anegro to enter my house upon such an errand."
"I am here, sir," replied Dr. Burns with spirit, "to perform a certainoperation. Since I assume the responsibility, the case must be under myentire control. Otherwise I cannot operate."
"Gentlemen," interposed Dr. Price, smoothly, "I beg of you both--this isa matter for calm discussion, and any asperity is to be deplored. Thelife at stake here should not be imperiled by any consideration of minorimportance."
"Your humanity does you credit, sir," retorted Dr. Burns. "But othermatters, too, are important. I have invited this gentleman here. Myprofessional honor is involved, and I merely invoke my rights tomaintain it. It is a matter of principle, which ought not to give way toa mere prejudice."
"That also states the case for Major Carteret," rejoined Dr. Price,suavely. "He has certain principles,--call them prejudices, if youlike,--certain inflexible rules of conduct by which he regulates hislife. One of these, which he shares with us all in some degree, forbidsthe recognition of the negro as a social equal."
"I do not know what Miller's social value may be," replied Dr. Burns,stoutly, "or whether you gain or lose by your attitude toward him. Ihave invited him here in a strictly professional capacity, with whichhis color is not at all concerned."
"Dr. Burns does not quite appreciate Major Carteret's point of view,"said Dr. Price. "This is not with him an unimportant matter, or a merequestion of prejudice, or even of personal taste. It is a sacredprinciple, lying at the very root of our social order, involving thepurity and prestige of our race. You Northern gentlemen do not quiteappreciate our situation; if you lived here a year or two you would actas we do. Of course," he added, diplomatically, "if there were noalternative--if Dr. Burns were willing to put Dr. Miller's presence onthe ground of imperative necessity"--
"I do nothing of the kind, sir," retorted Dr. Burns with some heat. "Ihave not come all the way from Philadelphia to undertake an operationwhich I cannot perform without the aid of some particular physician. Imerely stand upon my professional rights."
Carteret was deeply agitated. The operation must not be deferred; hischild's life might be endangered by delay. If the negro's presence wereindispensable he would even submit to it, though in order to avoid sopainful a necessity, he would rather humble himself to the Northerndoctor. The latter course involved merely a personal sacrifice--theformer a vital principle. Perhaps there was another way of escape.Miller's presence could not but be distasteful to Mrs. Carteret forother reasons. Miller's wife was the living evidence of a painfulepisode in Mrs. Carteret's family, which the doctor's presence wouldinevitably recall. Once before, Mrs. Carteret's life had been endangeredby encountering, at a time of great nervous strain, this ill-bornsister and her child. She was even now upon the verge of collapse at theprospect of her child's suffering, and should be protected from theintrusion of any idea which might add to her distress.
"Dr. Burns," he said, with the suave courtesy which was part of hisinheritance, "I beg your pardon for my heat, and throw myself upon yourmagnanimity, as between white men"--
"I am a gentleman, sir, before I am a white man," interposed Dr. Burns,slightly mollified, however, by Carteret's change of manner.
"The terms should be synonymous," Carteret could not refrain fromsaying. "As between white men, and gentlemen, I say to you, fr
ankly,that there are vital, personal reasons, apart from Dr. Miller's color,why his presence in this house would be distasteful. With thisstatement, sir, I throw myself upon your mercy. My child's life is worthmore to me than any earthly thing, and I must be governed by yourdecision."
Dr. Burns was plainly wavering. The clock moved with provoking slowness.Miller would be there in five minutes.
"May I speak with you privately a moment, doctor?" asked Dr. Price.
They withdrew from the room and were engaged in conversation for a fewmoments. Dr. Burns finally yielded.
"I shall nevertheless feel humiliated when I meet Miller again," hesaid, "but of course if there is a personal question involved, thatalters the situation. Had it been merely a matter of color, I shouldhave maintained my position. As things stand, I wash my hands of thewhole affair, so far as Miller is concerned, like Pontius Pilate--yes,indeed, sir, I feel very much like that individual."
"I'll explain the matter to Miller," returned Dr. Price, amiably, "andmake it all right with him. We Southern people understand the negroesbetter than you do, sir. Why should we not? They have been constantlyunder our interested observation for several hundred years. You feelthis vastly more than Miller will. He knows the feeling of the whitepeople, and is accustomed to it. He wishes to live and do business here,and is quite too shrewd to antagonize his neighbors or come where he isnot wanted. He is in fact too much of a gentleman to do so."
"I shall leave the explanation to you entirely," rejoined Dr. Burns, asthey reentered the other room.
Carteret led the way to the nursery, where the operation was to takeplace. Dr. Price lingered for a moment. Miller was not likely to bebehind the hour, if he came at all, and it would be well to head him offbefore the operation began.
Scarcely had the rest left the room when the doorbell sounded, and aservant announced Dr. Miller.
Dr. Price stepped into the hall and met Miller face to face.
He had meant to state the situation to Miller frankly, but now that themoment had come he wavered. He was a fine physician, but he shrank fromstrenuous responsibilities. It had been easy to theorize about thenegro; it was more difficult to look this man in the eyes--whom at thismoment he felt to be as essentially a gentleman as himself--and tell himthe humiliating truth.
As a physician his method was to ease pain--he would rather take therisk of losing a patient from the use of an anaesthetic than from theshock of an operation. He liked Miller, wished him well, and would notwittingly wound his feelings. He really thought him too much of agentleman for the town, in view of the restrictions with which he mustinevitably be hampered. There was something melancholy, to a cultivatedmind, about a sensitive, educated man who happened to be off color. Sucha person was a sort of social misfit, an odd quantity, educated out ofhis own class, with no possible hope of entrance into that above it. Hefelt quite sure that if he had been in Miller's place, he would neverhave settled in the South--he would have moved to Europe, or to the WestIndies, or some Central or South American state where questions of colorwere not regarded as vitally important.
Dr. Price did not like to lie, even to a negro. To a man of his owncaste, his word was his bond. If it were painful to lie, it would behumiliating to be found out. The principle of _noblesse oblige_ was alsoinvolved in the matter. His claim of superiority to the colored doctorrested fundamentally upon the fact that he was white and Miller was not;and yet this superiority, for which he could claim no credit, since hehad not made himself, was the very breath of his nostrils,--he would nothave changed places with the other for wealth untold; and as agentleman, he would not care to have another gentleman, even a coloredman, catch him in a lie. Of this, however, there was scarcely anydanger. A word to the other surgeons would insure their corroboration ofwhatever he might tell Miller. No one of them would willingly wound Dr.Miller or embarrass Dr. Price; indeed, they need not know that Millerhad come in time for the operation.
"I'm sorry, Miller," he said with apparent regret, "but we were hereahead of time, and the case took a turn which would admit of no delay,so the gentlemen went in. Dr. Burns is with the patient now, and askedme to explain why we did not wait for you."
"I'm sorry too," returned Miller, regretfully, but nothing doubting. Hewas well aware that in such cases danger might attend upon delay. He hadlost his chance, through no fault of his own or of any one else.
"I hope that all is well?" he said, hesitatingly, not sure whether hewould be asked to remain.
"All is well, so far. Step round to my office in the morning, Miller, orcome in when you're passing, and I'll tell you the details."
This was tantamount to a dismissal, so Miller took his leave. Descendingthe doorsteps, he stood for a moment, undecided whether to return homeor to go to the hotel and await the return of Dr. Burns, when he heardhis name called from the house in a low tone.
"Oh, doctuh!"
He stepped back toward the door, outside of which stood the coloredservant who had just let him out.
"Dat's all a lie, doctuh," he whispered, "'bout de operation bein'already pe'fo'med. Dey-all had jes' gone in de minute befo' youcome--Doctuh Price hadn' even got out 'n de room. Dey be'n quollin''bout you fer de las' ha'f hour. Majah Ca'te'et say he wouldn' haveyou, an' de No'then doctuh say he wouldn't do nothin' widout you, an'Doctuh Price he j'ined in on bofe sides, an' dey had it hot an' heavy,nip an' tuck, till bimeby Majah Ca'te'et up an' say it wa'n't altogetheryo' color he objected to, an' wid dat de No'then doctuh give in. He'sa fine man, suh, but dey wuz too much fer 'im!"
"Thank you, Sam, I'm much obliged," returned Miller mechanically. "Onelikes to know the truth."
Truth, it has been said, is mighty, and must prevail; but it sometimesleaves a bad taste in the mouth. In the ordinary course of events Millerwould not have anticipated such an invitation, and for that reason hadappreciated it all the more. The rebuff came with a corresponding shock.He had the heart of a man, the sensibilities of a cultivated gentleman;the one was sore, the other deeply wounded. He was not altogether sure,upon reflection, whether he blamed Dr. Price very much for the amiablelie, which had been meant to spare his feelings, or thanked Sam a greatdeal for the unpalatable truth.
Janet met him at the door. "How is the baby?" she asked excitedly.
"Dr. Price says he is doing well."
"What is the matter, Will, and why are you back so soon?"
He would have spared her the story, but she was a woman, and would haveit. He was wounded, too, and wanted sympathy, of which Janet was anexhaustless fountain. So he told her what had happened. She comfortedhim after the manner of a loving woman, and felt righteously indignanttoward her sister's husband, who had thus been instrumental in thehumiliation of her own. Her anger did not embrace her sister, and yetshe felt obscurely that their unacknowledged relationship had been themalignant force which had given her husband pain, and defeated hishonorable ambition. When Dr. Price entered the nursery, Dr. Burns wasleaning attentively over the operating table. The implements needed forthe operation were all in readiness--the knives, the basin, the sponge,the materials for dressing the wound--all the ghastly paraphernalia ofvivisection.
Mrs. Carteret had been banished to another room, where Clara vainlyattempted to soothe her. Old Mammy Jane, still burdened by her fears,fervently prayed the good Lord to spare the life of the sweet littlegrandson of her dear old mistress.
Dr. Burns had placed his ear to the child's chest, which had been baredfor the incision. Dr. Price stood ready to administer the anaesthetic.Little Dodie looked up with a faint expression of wonder, as if dimlyconscious of some unusual event. The major shivered at the thought ofwhat the child must undergo.
"There's a change in his breathing," said Dr. Burns, lifting his head."The whistling noise is less pronounced, and he breathes easier. Theobstruction seems to have shifted."
Applying his ear again to the child's throat, he listened for a momentintently, and then picking the baby up from the table, gave it a coupleof sharp claps between
the shoulders. Simultaneously a small object shotout from the child's mouth, struck Dr. Price in the neighborhood of hiswaistband, and then rattled lightly against the floor. Whereupon thebaby, as though conscious of his narrow escape, smiled and gurgled, andreaching upward clutched the doctor's whiskers with his little hand,which, according to old Jane, had a stronger grip than any otherinfant's in Wellington.
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