The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker (ebook and pdf reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: Bram Stoker
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hands in hers, said:
“I hope you won’t remember what i said. I did not mean it, and I was
distraught.” I did not make reply; but I held her hands and kissed
them. There are different ways of kissing a lady’s hands. This way was
intended as homage and respect; and it was accepted as such in the
high-bred, dignified way which marked Miss Trelawny’s bearing and every
movement. I went over to the sofa and looked down at the senseless man.
The dawn had come much nearer in the last few minutes, and there was
something of the clearness of day in the light. As I looked at the
stern, cold, set face, now as white as a marble monument in the pale
grey light, i could not but feel that there was some deep mystery beyond
all that had happened within the last twenty-six hours. Those beetling
brows screened some massive purpose; that high, broad forehead held some
finished train of reasoning, which the broad chin and massive jaw would
help to carry into effect. As I looked and wondered, there began to
steal over me again that phase of wandering thought which had last night
heralded the approach of sleep. I resisted it, and held myself sternly
to the present. This was easier to do when Miss Trelawny came close to
me, and, leaning her forehead against my shoulder, began to cry
silently. Then all the manhood in me woke, and to present purpose. It
was of little use trying to speak; words were inadequate to thought. But
we understood each other; she did not draw away when I put arm
protectingly over her shoulder as I used to do with my little sister
long ago when in her childish trouble she would come to her big brother
to be comforted. That very act or attitude of protection made me more
resolute in my purpose, and seemed to clear my brain of idle, dreamy
wandering in thought. With an instinct of greater protection, however,
I took away my arm as I heard the Doctor’s footstep outside the door.
When Doctor Winchester came in he looked intently at the patient before
speaking. His brows were set, and his mouth was a thin, hard line.
Presently he said:
“There is much in common between the sleep of your Father and Nurse
Kennedy. Whatever influence has brought it about has probably worked the
same way in both cases. In Kennedy’s case the coma is less marked. I
cannot but feel, however, that with her we may be able to do more and
more quickly than with this patient, as our hands are not tied. I have
placed her in a draught; and already she shows some signs, though very
faint ones, of ordinary unconsciousness. The rigidity of her limbs is
less, and her skin seems more sensitive—or perhaps I should say less
insensitive—to pain.”
“How is it, then,” I asked, “that Mr. Trelawny is still in this state of
insensibility; and yet, so far as we know, his body has not had such
rigidity at all?”
“That I cannot answer. The problem is one which we may solve in a few
hours; or it may need a few days. But it will be a useful lesson in
diagnosis to us all; and perhaps to many and many others after us, who
knows!” he added, with the genuine fire of an enthusiast.
As the morning wore on, he flitted perpetually between the two rooms,
watching anxiously over both patients. He made Mrs. Grant remain with
the Nurse, but either Miss Trelawny or I, generally both of us, remained
with the wounded man. We each managed, however, to get bathed and
dressed; the Doctor and Mrs. Grant remained with Mr. Trelawny whilst we
had breakfast.
Sergeant Daw went off to report at Scotland Yard the progress of the
night; and then to the local station to arrange for the coming of his
comrade, Wright, as fixed with Superintendent Dolan. When he returned I
could not but think that he had been hauled over the coals for shooting
in a sick-room; or perhaps for shooting at all without certain and
proper cause. His remark to me enlightened me in the matter:
“A good character is worth something, sir, in spite of what some of them
say. See! I’ve still got leave to carry my revolver.”
That day was a long and anxious one. Toward nightfall Nurse Kennedy so
far improved that the rigidity of her limbs entirely disappeared. She
still breathed quietly and regularly; but the fixed expression of her
face, though it was a calm enough expression, gave place to fallen
eyelids and the negative look of sleep. Doctor Winchester had, towards
evening, brought two more nurses, one of whom was to remain with Nurse
Kennedy and the other to share in the watching with Miss Trelawny, who
had insisted on remaining up herself. She had, in order to prepare for
the duty, slept for several hours in the afternoon. We had all taken
counsel together, and had arranged thus for the watching in Mr.
Trelawny’s room. Mrs. Grant was to remain beside the patient till
twelve, when Miss Trelawny would relieve her. The new nurse was to sit
in Miss Trelawny’s room, and to visit the sick chamber each quarter of
an hour. The Doctor would remain till twelve; when I was to relieve
him. One or other of the detectives was to remain within hail of the
room all night; and to pay periodical visits to see that all was well.
Thus, the watchers would be watched; and the possibility of such events
as last night, when the watchers were both overcome, would be avoided.
When the sun set, a strange and grave anxiety fell on all of us; and in
our separate ways we prepared for the vigil. Doctor Winchester had
evidently been thinking of my respirator, for he told me he would go out
and get one. Indeed, he took to the idea so kindly that I persuaded
Miss Trelawny also to have one which she could put on when her time for
watching came.
And so the night drew on.
When I came from my room at half-past eleven o’clock I found all well in
the sick-room. The new nurse, prim, neat, and watchfull, sat in the
chair by the bedside where Nurse Kennedy had sat last night. A little
way off, between the bed and the safe, sat Dr. Winchester alert and
wakeful, but looking strange and almost comic with the respirator over
mouth and nose. As I stood in the doorway looking at them I heard a
slight sound; turning round I saw the new detective, who nodded, held up
the finger of silence and withdrew quietly. Hitherto no one of the
watchers was overcome by sleep.
I took a chair outside the door. As yet there was no need for me to
risk coming again under the subtle influence of last night. Naturally
my thoughts went revolving round the main incidents of the last day and
night, and I found myself arriving at strange conclusions, doubts,
conjectures; but I did not lose myself, as on last night, in trains of
thought. The sense of the present was ever with me, and I really felt
as should a sentry on guard. Thinking is not a slow process; and when
it is earnest the time can pass quickly. It seemed a very short time
indeed till the door, usually left ajar, was pulled open and Dr.
Winchester emerged, taking off his respirator as he came. His act, when
he had it off, was demostrative of his keenness. He turned up the
outside of the wrap and smelled it carefully.
“I am going now,” he said. “I shall come early in the morning; unless,
of course, I am sent for before. But all seems well tonight.”
The next to appear was Sergeant Daw, who went quietly into the room and
took the seat vacated by the Doctor. I still remained outside; but
every few minutes looked into the room. This was rather a form than a
matter of utility, for the room was so dark that coming even from the
dimly-lighted corridor it was hard to distinguish anything.
A little before twelve o’clock Miss Trelawny came from her room. Before
coming to her father’s she went into that occupied by Nurse Kennedy.
After a couple of minutes she came out, looking, I thought, a trifle
more cheerful. She had her respirator in her hand, but before putting
it on, asked me if anything special had occurred since she had gone to
lie down. I answered in a whisper—there was no loud talking in the
house tonight—that all was safe, was well. She then put on her
respirator, and I mine; and we entered the room. The Detective and the
Nurse rose up, and we took their places. Sergeant Daw was the last to
go out; he closed the door behind him as we had arranged.
For a while I sat quiet, my heart beating. The place was grimly dark.
The only light was a faint one from the top of the lamp which threw a
white circle on the high ceiling, except the emerald sheen of the shade
as the light took its under edges. Even the light only seemed to
emphasize the blackness of the shadows. These presently began to seem,
as on last night, to have a sentience of their own. I did not myself
feel in the least sleepy; and each time I went softly over to look at
the patient, which I did about every ten minutes, I could see that Miss
Trelawny was keenly alert. Every quarter of an hour one or other of the
policemen looked in through the partly opened door. Each time both Miss
Trelawny and I said through our mufflers, “all right,” and the door was
closed again.
As the time wore on, the silence and the darkness seemed to increase.
The circle of light on the ceiling was still there, but it seemed less
brilliant than at first. The green edging of the lamp-shade became like
Maori greenstone rather than emerald. The sounds of the night without
the house, and the starlight spreading pale lines along the edges of the
window-cases, made the pall of black within more solemn and more
mysterious.
We heard the clock in the corridor chiming the quarters with its silver
bell till two o’clock; and then a strange feeling came over me. I could
see from Miss Trelawny’s movement as she looked round, that she also had
some new sensation. The new detective had just looked in; we two were
alone with the unconscious patient for another quarter of an hour.
My heart began to beat wildly. There was a sense of fear over me. Not
for myself; my fear was impersonal. It seemed as though some new person
had entered the room, and that a strong intelligence was awake close to
me. Something brushed against my leg. I put my hand down hastily and
touched the furry coat of Silvio. With a very faint far-away sound of a
snarl he turned and scratched at me. I felt blood on my hand. I rose
gently and came over to the bedside. Miss Trelawny, too, had stood up
and was looking behind her, as though there was something close to her.
Her eyes were wild, and her breast rose and fell as though she were
fighting for air. When I touched her she did not seem to feel me; she
worked her hands in front of her, as though she was fending off
something.
There was not an instant to lose. I
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