Lydia Trent (19 page)

“
Oh,
you've come back, have you?” she snapped. “Well, I'll tell you
where you can find your Mr Alcott – in bed. He comes a crawling
back at five this afternoon, a-complaining of feeling ill, and
begging to be let in. Rules are rules, says I, and until the clock
strikes seven, not one foot shall cross that threshold. Allow it
once, and you'll find yourself obliged to allow it again. And so I
shut the door on him. Blest if at seven o clock one of my other gents
weren't causing a ruckus at the door because Alcott was a-laying on
the step! Well we couldn't get him to stand, so Mr Terwhillie just
carried him up to his bed, says there ought to be a doctor. And who's
to pay for that, I ask, not to mention the inconvenience. I don't
have time for nursing and coddling, and he's a week behind on the
rent as it is. I only let him off with it a few days as he's always
punctual with it, and now look.” and the termagant folded her arms
in mortal offence at the gentleman having had the effrontery to fall
ill at her expense.

“
Perhaps
I can be of assistance, Madam.” said Mr Dodd smoothly, and in a
very few moments he had paid the grumbling woman her few shillings
rent, caused a doctor to be summoned, and taken possession of Mr
Alcott and this unfortunate gentleman's room. Here the detective
found an important piece of evidence concerning the true identity of
'Mr Alcott', after he had taken the sick gentleman's glassy,
threadbare shirt up from the floor, where it had been thrown by Mr
Terwhillie (now invisible) in a hasty preparation for bed - involving
the simple expedient of removing his boots and outer garments, and
pitching him pell-mell under the covers - and found it to be marked,
in Turkey-red thread now faded to a pale fawn colour, the stitches
almost worn through - 'MW'.

It
was an epoch in the history of Mrs Gant's lodging house (for such was
the name of the formidable lady who ran that inhospitable abode with
such implacable efficiency), when not one, but three young ladies
crossed the threshold. O, black day indeed, when these bachelor halls
were sullied by the footfalls of the fair! Mrs Gant was near
apoplectic at the unwarranted intrusion, but her anger availed naught
– come in they would.

These
three were Adeline, Lydia, and Catherine, who had been summoned
thither by a hasty note from Mr Dodd. This gentleman now met them in
the hallway.

“
Thankyou
for coming, ladies,” he said. “I called you here because I am now
more or less convinced of the truth of your assertion, Mrs Parrish,
that this man is indeed Malcolm Wade, your father. Whether he is
using a false name for some private reason, or whether his memory was
as deranged as his intellect by the severe blow to the head he
received, I am not entirely certain. At any rate, Malcolm Wade was
lost sight of, and so he preserved himself from further attempts on
his life.”

“
Oh,
thankyou!” cried Adeline.

“
You
say he is ill – how is he?” queried Catherine, more to the point.

“
The
doctor is with him now. I am afraid he was utterly prostrate when I
saw him – stay, here is the doctor coming out now.”

The
doctor, after being assured that these young ladies were connections
of Mr Alcott, being his two daughters and their stepsister, spoke
freely.

“
Well,
Sir, my dears, it looks a most unpromising case, most unpromising. I
am sorry to alarm you, but the gentleman appears to have a bilious
fever, which under normal circumstances would not in itself be
dangerous, but the feverish symptoms, coupled as they are with his
past head injury, are very worrying. Our first priority must be to
break the fever. I have prescribed some draughts, which must be given
hourly until the fever breaks. I shall also have to bleed him – we
shall see if this is effective. In addition, he must be kept cool by
the constant application of wet cloths.”

Catherine
indicated her willingness to apply these remedies, and of course
Lydia and Adeline spoke up offering to help her. Adeline, of course,
had the most natural right to be there, but not only did she have
less experience of nursing than Lydia, but she had not been in strong
health herself of late.

“
Adeline,
my dearest, you have been in delicate health – you cannot be
allowed to destroy your health by the rigours of nursing. You had
much better nurse yourself – Lydia and I will inform you of any
change, however slight.”

Adeline
made some demur at this, and made some allusion to Lydia's own recent
illness.

“
Pho,
as to that, I am very much recovered – I am as strong as ever. But
what will it avail, if we should bring your father back into health,
if he should then find his daughter well-nigh broken by the effort?”
persuaded Lydia. “You are not strong, and I would have the reunion
between you two unmarred by the shadow of illness. Go, and be assured
I shall do the very best I can for your father. Besides, we shall
want someone who is free to come and go, to fetch things, and take
messages, and be in every way useful. See, there is the doctor's
prescription to be made up – you could go for it, and we shall need
various supplies, for I do not believe Mrs Gant will be inclined to
let us make free with her things.”

Adeline
immediately agreed to take the prescription to be made up, and fetch
anything needful. Thus the matter was settled, and the two elder
girls took up their station in the sickroom.

They
soon discovered that their wants were many, for the room was almost
bare, and Mrs Gant disinclined to provide anything beyond the scant
and indifferent breakfast and dinner which were included in the terms
of her lodging. When Adeline returned with the medicine, she found
herself furnished with a great list of things to be either borrowed
from their uncle's house, or purchased at nearby shops, ranging from
beef tea and calfs foot jelly, to a supply of rags to bathe the poor
gentleman's forehead, to a spirit burner for boiling water, and
bedding that the girls might supply the deficiency in the lodging
house bed, as well as make up a couch for their own use.

How
quickly the sickroom routine establishes itself – that strange
twilit half-life, its time measured not by days and nights, but by
the intervals of physic and fomentations, the odd hours of rising and
sleeping, interrupted by the doctor's visits, and punctuated by the
lancet. The patient was bled twice a day for the first few days, and
the girls became quite accustomed to seeing the slow drip-drip-drip,
staining the water in the basin below his arm pinker at ever splash.
Despite this, and the constant wetting and bathing of the patient's
forehead, which required a fresh cool cloth to be laid on his brow
every ten minutes, despite the hourly draughts and the lowering diet
(though the man scarce took anything, being unconscious for a great
deal of the time, and wandering when he was awake) – despite all
that medicine and two constant and devoted nurses could do, the fever
raged unabated into the second week.

At
this point Mr Dodd, who though his professional duties were not just
then required, still took an interest in the case, asked permission
to call in a second physician, a gentleman of his odd and varied
acquaintance. This practitioner duly arrived, and proceeded to
frighten the girls half out of their wits by railing against almost
every treatment thus far employed.

“
Cool
cloths I approve of, but look here – the man needs all his
strength, and what does my esteemed colleague do, but prescribe the
very things that will most weaken him. He is low and weak, his
illness has been exacerbated by poor diet – so what shall we do?
Why, give him only modest amounts of barely nutritious food, and so
starve him still further. His stomach lining is irritated –
therefore let us prescribe strong raking medicines.” stormed the
Doctor Spratt. This was as nothing to his ire, however, when he found
out the gentleman had been bled – and bled freely, twice a day.

“
It's
murder, that's what it is!” he blazed. “Without that, I could
have saved him, but he needs strength, and what does the man do but
rob him twice daily of the precious fluid which is the basis of his
strength. He has dripped out his very life into that basin. I will do
my best to repair the damage, but in the face of this, I am forced to
say that I believe the case is hopeless, quite hopeless.”

The
girls were utterly dismayed at this pronouncement, but hoped that
things were not quite so black as the good doctor painted them. They
speedily obeyed the doctor's injunctions as to medicine, which was to
be of a strengthening rather than lowering tendency, and diet, which
consisted of such items as brandy and strong beef tea, also intended
to have a strengthening, stimulating effect.

Their
efforts were rewarded by a lessening of the fever overnight, and the
girls became quite hopeful, but the doctor did not share their
optimism.

“
See,
he has not yet regained consciousness. It is all the fault of that
cursed bleeding.”

He
persevered with his treatment, however, though the ladies were much
troubled by the intervals of delirium becoming longer and the
intervals of sleep – or rather stupor – becoming less. At the end
of the second week, however, their patient showed a change. His
breathing eased, and there appeared a light perspiration upon his
brow. Both Adeline and Doctor Spratt were called.

“
Ah,
he is sleeping naturally. I do not hold out hopes of a full recovery,
but he is somewhat better. Keep the room quiet, and let him sleep.
When he wakes, give him the draught I will now prescribe, and
whatever nourishment he can take. I will return in a few hours.”

The
girls hugged each other, but sensibly kept their joy in abatement.
The gentleman slept for almost two hours, at the end of which time he
opened his eyes, and, starting slightly at the slim figure of the
girl seated by the bed, spoke in a thin, weak voice.

“
What,
am I still wandering? This is witchery, I am sure, for you look very
like someone dear to me.”

“
Yes,
father, it is I, Catherine.”

“
But
how come you to be here? Did you come to the hotel after all? The man
said he did not know where you were. Where is he? How came he to lie
to me? Am I still at the Lambscourt? I came here seeking for you,
Catherine.”

“
No,
father, you are not at the Lambscourt Hotel – you have not been
there in a year.” and in a few short sentences she described how he
had been living, under a name not his own, since his fall. Mr Wade
was amazed at this, but Lydia hushed his questions.

“
Do
not excite yourself, sir, you are still very ill. When you are a
little better, you may speak with your daughters, but for now, you
must drink this, and eat a little if you can, and husband your
strength.”

Mr
Wade was too weak to object, and after he had taken his medicine and
drunk a little beef broth, he lapsed back into sleep. When next he
awoke, Adeline was there.

“
Father,”
said Catherine, “This is Adeline.”

“
Why,
yes,” he replied, weakly, “I should have known her at once –
for she is the very image of her mother when first I married her. Now
then, I am glad you are both here, for I have something to say to
you.”

“
Sir,
cannot it wait?” interrupted Lydia, “You are very weak, and I am
sure you will overtax your strength.”

“
Nay,
it would overset me more to leave this unsaid, for I am as conscious
of my weakness as you are, and fear if I do not speak now then my
tale will never be heard.” Lydia was silent at this, and so he
continued.

“
When
I lost my Adeline – I speak of my wife, not you my dear – I
believed I had stopped caring for any living thing. I could hardly
bear to look on the baby which my love had died bringing into the
world, and my elder daughter, in trying to comfort me, only served to
irritate me. You distracted me from my grief, girls, when all I
wanted was to treasure it up and hide from the world, hugging my pain
to my myself.

“
It
was a hard pain to bear, however, and I sought relief in drink. In my
selfish grief, I forgot that two little girls had lost their mamma –
I felt as if I alone had the right to mourn that angel.

“
When
I married your stepmother, there was no love in the case. It was a
matter of convenience only – she particularly needed a home, and I
hoped that she would take the care of you off my hands. I believed
she had, and so I was free to sink further into my selfish courses,
and when she took Adeline off my hands entirely, I was, at the time,
more glad than sorry, and so I did not bother to seek my recreant
wife or missing daughter.

“
That
left you, Catherine, on my hands. But every day that passed increased
my self-devotion, and my dependence on drink and the excitements of
the card table and the race track. For I felt that my heart had died
within me, and the only time I felt alive was the moment before the
turn of a card or the start of a race, when a fortune may be won or
lost in the next breath.