And ought not to be abused, he said hastily. No, of course not. No one ought to abuse those who trust. Capital coffee this, he added, as he partook of more. Grand thing to keep a man awake.
Humph! Tired. Ours is weary work, and he yawned.
I believe I should have been a clever fellow, mused the doctor, if I had not been so confoundedly lazy. Theres something very interesting in these cases. In yours, for instance, my fine old fellow, it sets one thinking whether I could have treated you differently, and whether I could do anything to prevent the recurrence of these fits.
He smoked on in silence, and then shook his head.
No, he said, half aloud; if there is a fire burning, and that is kept burning, all that we can do is to keep on smothering it for a time. It is sure to keep on eating its way out. He has a fire in his brain which he insists upon keeping burning, so until he quenches it himself, all I can do is to stop the flames by smothering it over by my medical sods. You must cure yourself, Norman Gartram; I cannot cure you. No, and you cannot cure yourself, for you will go on struggling to make more money that you have no use for, till you die. Poor devil!
He said the last two words aloud, in a voice full of pitying contempt. Then, after another sip of his coffee, he looked round for a book, drew the lamp close to his right shoulder, and picked up one or two volumes, but only to throw them down again; and he was reaching over for another when his eye fell upon the cash belt with its bulging contents.
Humph, he ejaculated, as he turned it over and over, and noted that it had been in service a long time. Stuffed very full. Notes, I suppose. Old boy hates banking. Wonder how much there is in? Very dishonourable, he muttered; extremely so, but he has placed himself in my hands.
He drew out a pocket-book.
Wants a new elastic band, my dear Gartram. Out of order. I must prescribe a new band. Let me see; what have we here? Notes fivers tens two fifties. Droll thing that these flimsy looking scraps of paper should represent so much money. More here too tens, all of them.
He drew forth
cried the woman, with her eyes lighting up, and a look of exultation in every feature; Ill swear to obey you.
Then you will measure out to Norman Gartram, and pay back to him all he has paid to me.
Isaac!
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as it says in the Holy Book.
Husband!
You have sworn to do it, woman, and there is no drawing back. As he murdered me, so you shall cut short his cursed life.
Isaac, I cannot.
Woman, you have sworn to the dying; you are the instrument, the chosen vessel to execute Gods wrath upon this man. For he shall not live to do more wrong to the suffering people he has been grinding under his heel.
No, no: I could not do this thing, Isaac, it is too terrible.
She has sworn to do it. She has heard the message, and his days will come to an end as mine have come, and he will go on no longer in his wickedness, piling up riches. Ha! ha! ha! Thou fool this night shall thy wife are you there?
Isaac! Husband!
Ah, yes. Good wife, my last words. Words from the other world. You will not rest till you have fulfilled your sacred task. I shall not rest till then you the chosen vessel His wrath against the oppressor as I have been cut off so shall Gartram be cut off yours the chosen hand, wife quick your hand upon my head you swear that you will do my bidding the bidding of
He paused, and she saw his eyes gazing wildly in hers, and it seemed as if the words she whispered were dragged from her a voice within her seeming to utter them, and the belief that she was but the instrument of a great punishment upon a sinful man appeared to strengthen within her breast.
Quick, gasped the dying man; your hand upon my head, wife your lips close to me let me hear you speak.
Isaac! Husband! she groaned; must I do this dreadful thing?
It is a message from
There was a terrible silence in the narrow chamber, and the dying mans eyes were fixed upon hers as she laid her hand upon his brow and spoke firmly,
I swear.
Hah!
A low, rattling expiration of the breath, and as Sarah Woodham gazed in her husbands eyes, the wild, fiery look died slowly out, to become grave and tender. Then it seemed to her that the look was fixed and strange. She had been prepared, but not for so sudden a shock as this.
Ike! she cried, lowering him upon the pillow. Ike! Why dont you speak? Do you hear me? and her voice sounded peremptory and harsh; do you hear me?
She had seized him by the shoulders as she bent over him, and her voice grew more excited and strange.
You are doing this to frighten me to keep that oath but I will do it. Ike, dear, do you hear me? Dont play with me. It hurts my poor heart to see you so fixed and strange Ike! Husband! Speak!
In her horror and agony she gripped his shoulders more tightly and shook him.
Then the horrible truth refused to be kept longer at bay, and, starting back from the couch where the fixed, grave eyes seemed to follow her, reminding her of her oath, she stood with her hands raised, staring wildly for a few moments before an exceeding bitter cry escaped her lips.