a mortal antipathy-第38部分

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in　an　agitated　and　thoroughly　frightened　way；



〃No！　no　nuss！　　no　woman！　　She　kill　him！　　I　stay　by　him　day　and　night；

but　don'　let　no　woman　come　near　him；if　you　do；　he　die！〃



The　doctor　explained　that　he　intended　to　send　a　man　who　was　used　to

taking　care　of　sick　people；　and　with　no　little　effort　at　last

succeeded　in　convincing　Paolo　that；　as　he　could　not　be　awake　day　and

night　for　a　fortnight　or　three　weeks；　it　was　absolutely　necessary　to

call　in　some　assistance　from　without。　　And　so　Mr。　Maurice　Kirkwood

was　to　play　the　leading　part　in　that　drama　of　nature's　composing

called　a　typhoid　fever；　with　its　regular　bedchamber　scenery；　its

properties　of　phials　and　pill…boxes；　its　little　company　of　stock

actors；　its　gradual　evolution　of　a　very　simple　plot；　its　familiar

incidents；　its　emotional　alternations；　and　its　denouement；　sometimes

tragic；　oftener　happy。



It　is　needless　to　say　that　the　sympathies　of　all　the　good　people　of

the　village；　residents　and　strangers；　were　actively　awakened　for　the

young　man　about　whom　they　knew　so　little　and　conjectured　so　much。

Tokens　of　their　kindness　came　to　him　daily：　flowers　from　the　woods

and　from　the　gardens；　choice　fruit　grown　in　the　open　air　or　under

glass；　for　there　were　some　fine　houses　surrounded　by　well…kept

grounds；　and　greenhouses　and　graperies　were　not　unknown　in　the　small

but　favored　settlement。



On　all　these　luxuries　Maurice　looked　with　dull　and　languid　eyes。　　A

faint　smile　of　gratitude　sometimes　struggled　through　the　stillness　of

his　features；　or　a　murmured　word　of　thanks　found　its　way　through　his

parched　lips；　and　he　would　relapse　into　the　partial　stupor　or　the

fitful　sleep　in　which；　with　intervals　of　slight　wandering；　the　slow

hours　dragged　along　the　sluggish　days　one　after　another。　　With　no

violent　symptoms；　but　with　steady　persistency；　the　disease　moved　on

in　its　accustomed　course。　　It　was　at　no　time　immediately　threatening；

but　the　experienced　physician　knew　its　uncertainties　only　too　well。

He　had　known　fever　patients　suddenly　seized　with　violent　internal

inflammation；　and　carried　off　with　frightful　rapidity。　　He　remembered

the　case　of　a　convalescent；　a　young　woman　who　had　been　attacked　while

in　apparently　vigorous　general　health；　who；　on　being　lifted　too

suddenly　to　a　sitting　position；　while　still　confined　to　her　bed；

fainted；　and　in　a　few　moments　ceased　to　breathe。　　It　may　well　be

supposed　that　he　took　every　possible　precaution　to　avert　the

accidents　which　tend　to　throw　from　its　track　a　disease　the　regular

course　of　which　is　arranged　by　nature　as　carefully　as　the　route　of　a

railroad　from　one　city　to　another。　　The　most　natural　interpretation

which　the　common　observer　would　put　upon　the　manifestations　of　one　of

these　autumnal　maladies　would　be　that　some　noxious　combustible

element　had　found　its　way　into　the　system　which　must　be　burned　to

ashes　before　the　heat　which　pervades　the　whole　body　can　subside。

Sometimes　the　fire　may　smoulder　and　seem　as　if　it　were　going　out；　or

were　quite　extinguished；　and　again　it　will　find　some　new　material　to

seize　upon；　and　flame　up　as　fiercely　as　ever。　　Its　coming　on　most

frequently　at　the　season　when　the　brush　fires　which　are　consuming　the

dead　branches；　and　withered　leaves；　and　all　the　refuse　of　vegetation

are　sending　up　their　smoke　is　suggestive。　　Sometimes　it　seems　as　if

the　body；　relieved　of　its　effete　materials；　renewed　its　youth　after

one　of　these　quiet；　expurgating；　internal　fractional　cremations。

Lean；　pallid　students　have　found　themselves　plump　and　blooming；　and

it　has　happened　that　one　whose　hair　was　straight　as　gnat　of　an　Indian

has　been　startled　to　behold　himself　in　his　mirror　with　a　fringe　of

hyacinthine　curls　about　his　rejuvenated　countenance。



There　was　nothing　of　what　medical　men　call　malignity　in　the　case　of

Maurice　Kirkwood。　　The　most　alarming　symptom　was　a　profound

prostration；　which　at　last　reached　such　a　point　that　he　lay　utterly

helpless；　as　unable　to　move　without　aid　as　the　feeblest　of

paralytics。　　In　this　state　he　lay　for　many　days；　not　suffering　pain；

but　with　the　sense　of　great　weariness；　and　the　feeling　that　he　should

never　rise　from　his　bed　again。　　For　the　most　part　his　intellect　was

unclouded　when　his　attention　was　aroused。　　He　spoke　only　in　whispers；

a　few　words　at　a　time。　　The　doctor　felt　sure；　by　the　expression　which

passed　over　his　features　from　time　to　time；　that　something　was

worrying　and　oppressing　him；　something　which　he　wished　to

communicate；　and　had　not　the　force；　or　the　tenacity　of　purpose；　to

make　perfectly　clear。　　His　eyes　often　wandered　to　a　certain　desk；　and

once　he　had　found　strength　to　lift　his　emaciated　arm　and　point　to　it。

The　doctor　went　towards　it　as　if　to　fetch　it　to　him；　but　he　slowly

shook　his　head。　　He　had　not　the　power　to　say　at　that　time　what　he

wished。　　The　next　day　he　felt　a　little　less　prostrated；　and　succeeded

in　explaining　to　the　doctor　what　he　wanted。　　His　words；　so　far　as　the

physician　could　make　them　out；　were　these　which　follow。　　Dr。　Butts

looked　upon　them　as　possibly　expressing　wishes　which　would　be　his

last；　and　noted　them　down　carefully　immediately　after　leaving　his

chamber。



〃I　commit　the　secret　of　my　life　to　your　charge。　　My　whole　story　is

told　in　a　paper　locked　in　that　desk。　　The　key　isput　your　hand　under

my　pillow。　　If　I　die；　let　the　story　be　known。　　It　will　show　that　I

washumanand　save　my　memory　from　reproach。〃



He　was　silent　for　a　little　time。　　A　single　tear　stole　down　his　hollow

cheek。　　The　doctor　turned　his　head　away；　for　his　own　eyes　were　full。

But　he　said　to　himself；　〃It　is　a　good　sign；　I　begin　to　feel　strong

hopes　that　he　will　recover。〃



Maurice　spoke　once　more。　　〃Doctor；　I　put　full　trust　in　you。　　You　are

wise　and　kind。　　Do　what　you　will　with　this　paper；　but　open　it　at　once

and　read。　　I　want　you　to　know　the　story　of　my　life　before　it　is

finishedif　the　end　is　at　hand。　　Take　it　with　you　and　read　it　before

you　sleep。〃　　He　was　exhausted　and　presently　his　eyes　closed；　but　the

doctor　saw　a　tranquil　look　on　his　features　which　added　encouragement

to　his　hopes。









XVIII



MAURICE　KIRKWOOD'S　STORY　OF　HIS　LIFE。



I　am　an　American　by　birth；　but　a　large　part　of　my　life　has　been

passed　in　foreign　lands。　　My　father　was　a　man　of　education；　possessed

of　an　ample　fortune；　my　mother　was　considered；　a　very　accomplished

and　amiable　woman。　　I　was　their　first　and　only　child。　　She　died　while

I　was　yet　an　infant。　　If　I　remember　her　at　all　it　is　as　a　vision；

more　like　a　glimpse　of　a　pre…natal　existence　than　as　a　part　of　my

earthly　life。　　At　the　death　of　my　mother　I　was　left　in　the　charge　of

the　old　nurse　who　had　enjoyed　her　perfect　confidence。　　She　was

devoted　to　me；　and　I　became　absolutely　dependent　on　her；　who　had　for

me　all　the　love　and　all　the　care　of　a　mother。　　I　was　naturally　the

object　of　the　attentions　and　caresses　of　the　family　relatives。　　I

have　been　told　that　I　was　a　pleasant；　smiling　infant；　with　nothing　to

indicate　any　peculiar　nervous　susceptibility；　not　afraid　of

strangers；　but　on　the　contrary　ready　to　make　their　acquaintance。　　My

father　was　devoted　to　me　and　did　all　in　his　power　to　promote　my

health　and　comfort。





I　was　still　a　babe；　often　carried　in　arms；　when　the　event　happened

which　changed　my　whole　future　and　destined　me　to　a　strange　and　lonely

existence。　　I　cannot　relate　it　even　now　without　a　sense　of　terror。　　I

must　force　myself　to　recall　the　circumstances　as　told　me　and　vaguely

remembered；　for　I　am　not　willing　that　my　doomed　and　wholly

exceptional　life　should　pass　away　unrecorded；　unexplained；

unvindicated。　　My　nature　is；　I　feel　sure；　a　kind　and　social　one；　but

I　have　lived　apart；　as　if　my　heart　were　filled　with　hatred　of　my

fellow…creatures。　　If　there　are　any　readers　who　look　without　pity；

without　sympathy；　upon　those　who　shun　the　fellowship　of　their　fellow

men　and　women；　who　show　by　their　downcast　or　averted　eyes　that　they

dread　companionship　and　long　for　solitude；　I　pray　them；　if　this　paper

ever　reaches　them；　to　stop　at　this　point。　　Follow　me　no　further；　for

you　will　not　believe　my　story；　nor　enter　into　the　feelings　which　I　am

about　to　reveal。　　But　if　there　are　any　to　whom　all　that　is　human　is

of　interest；　who　have　felt　in　their　own　consciousness　some　stirrings

of　invincible　attraction　to　one　individual　and　equally　invincible

repugnance　to　another；　who　know　by　their　own　experience　that　elective

affinities　have　as　their　necessary　counterpart；　and；　as　it　were；

their　polar　opposites；　currents　not　less　strong　of　elective

repulsions；　let　them　read　with　unquestioning　faith　the　story　of　a

blighted　life　I　am　about　to　relate；　much　of　it；　of　course；　received

from　the　lips　of　others。



My　cousin　Laura；　a　girl　of　seventeen；　lately　returned　from　Europe；

was　considered　eminently　beautiful。　　It　was　in　my　second　summer　that

she　visited　my　father's　house；　where　he　was　living　with　his　servants

and　my　old　nurse；　my　mother　having　but　recently　left　hi