Paul Suter

“ Murdock and old Jarvins were never seen again in that house.
For the benefit of those wedding guests who did not know why, Mrs. John Bamber, flushed and smiling, seized upon a lull in the conversation to enlighten them. She wished to substitute truth for the wild rumors that had been flying about since Mrs. Murdock's dismissal. In the telling, the smile left her face, and her eyes grew stern. It was a black enough tale; the exposure of an attempt to turn a sensitive but sane man into a madman. ”

“ The doctor bowed, gravely, in the moonlight; and the old man in the doorway also bowed, with an even graver courtesy. He was a giant of a man, whose long, white beard and slightly bent shoulders, proclaimed his years. In the yellow light of the candle he carried, his eyes gleamed with sombre vigor. Though the hand which held the candle shook, his voice was free from the cackling quality of age. ”

“ The moon shone here, too. It showed him a ruined fireplace, a stone floor, four blackened walls.
For a moment, his eyes wandered to and fro, regarding the room with nightmare fascination; then he turned, mechanically, and walked down the ruinous hall, through the crumbling doorway, into the valley. He knew this for reality. He had come, the night before to this burned house; he had sat on that remnant of a bench, before that cold fireplace; he had lain, and felt that
he was resting comfortably, on the charred slats of that bed, All the rest had been in his mind merely ”

“ That was another of Jarvins' peculiarities; he seldom sat in a chair. Instead, he paced back and forth, incessantly, hands behind his back, hunched shoulders swinging to his stride, head sunk forward and bright eyes glancing up under veiled lids. He stopped, suddenly. His voice took on an odd pathos, which, somehow, stirred unaccustomed sympathy in John Bamber's heart.
"I've had trouble; one doesn't come to my age without it. Your uncle, too, my boy, had much in his time. And all trouble is much the same in the end. ”

“ Even the converter's ghostly glare, through the windows over the bookcases, was softened by the judicious use of prism glass. At last, all was ready for the wedding.
For that occasion, young John Bamber hired the best firm of decorators in the town, and gave them free rein. Wherever a stair post or a chandelier was open to floral improvement, it was made to blossom. The bookcases in the erstwhile somber library had their part in an elaborate nuptial design. Even the dim light became bright. ”

“ Some time in the course of that night, ere his astounding exit into the other room, Craddock began to talk. Before that, nothing much beyond gloomy monosyllables had entered into the conversation.
Marvin, the artist, had been pacing up and down the room, or sitting, bowed, in a Morris chair. Jugrand, professor of psychology for unreckoned years in the university, was crumpled inelegantly in a Turkish rocker. When he opened his half-shut eyes, the firelight glistened from their faded blue, bristled his white moustache to the point of grotesqueness, made his red cheeks seem frightfully puffy. ”

“ After a time, Jugrand rose, with an air of heavy resolution, ponderously adapted himself to a standing position, and walked over to the double glass doors. He looked through them, intently. The lines of thought gave his face something of power and charm, despite its fatness. The others stared at him, as he stared through the glass.
When he resumed his chair, which still rocked gently, he addressed himself to the surgeon:
"I like to play sometimes with a theory—a fanciful theory—that the brain cells continue to work for a while after what we call death. Why do we call it that? ”

“ The mandate came with unexpected force. Young John Bamber's instinct was to remain; but he could not stand out against his uncle's will. Even while death waited in the shadows, old John remained master of his house.
Young John obeyed. As he opened the door to step into the dark hall, he glanced back and saw the quivering figure sitting in the chair; the face, with its high-arched nose, bent inflexibly toward him; the eyes still returning his gaze.
At the foot of the stairs the young man met Mrs. Murdock, the gaunt Scotch housekeeper. ”

“ Jugrand laughed.
"It seems to you the living beside the dead—therefore bizarre. In his normal moments, it would seem so to him. To-night, he is not normal. I am not so sure that he is even asleep—as we understand sleep. Perhaps he has been staring rather too steadily into the fire."
He went on, in a moment:
"I should like to have heard Craddock's theories. I, myself, have but one. Of course, I have suspected the truth for some time."
"What truth?" demanded Marvin.
"That this friend of ours—this dear and wonderful friend, who lies in his coffin—was suffering from loss of memory. ”

“ He smiled back into her violet eyes, and, with sudden deftness, imprisoned the hand that had been patting his.
"Lucia!"
She was silent; but her smile became deeper. There was a hint in it, too, of wistfulness and pain.
"Tell me—" he began; then he stopped. What was it he wished her to tell him? It was perfectly natural that he should be there on the bench with her. There was no mystery in that. Yet why, then, were they so strange toward each other? They should have been chatting unrestrainedly and gaily, as they always did. No two people in the world could be more intimate than they were. ”

“ He would not admit squarely to himself what it was that he had seen. To do so would be disastrous. His mind could not stand it. He must keep his thoughts away from what was upstairs—sitting there in the darkness. ”

“ Do you mean to tell me you're not joking? If you're not, then you are ill; for you know these woods better than I."
"I was lost; but I’ve found myself, now!" he answered her, with an abrupt burst of gayety. "I've found myself, Lucia!"
"Did you ever lose yourself, then, silly boy?" she retorted.
It was a simple question, but it shook the doctor. His mind, which had seemed very steady, swayed a little, and he saw the girl and the room and the crackling logs through a mist. Then the steadiness returned. ”

“ Simply because our crude instruments can no longer detect signs of life. We have no proof but that decay—even embalming, perhaps—may precede absolute death by an appreciable interval."
He stopped, with his eyes on the surgeon. It was as if he were feeling for some unthinkable result, grotesque, like his own fat cheeks. Craddock's narrow face looked pale and tired. He groped for a rocker, and fell into it, chin on hand. He stared steadfastly into the fire.
Jugrand asked him a quiet question:
"Do you suppose he was thinking of this trouble when he talked to Marvin about 'background'?" ”

“ Murdock would have screamed, then pretended she saw nothing—just as Jarvins pretended, when he and I were looking together at the figure. But I heard their footsteps and came out. They must have been standing near me in the darkness at the time. Instead of going crazy on the spot, I fainted."
The doctor, prominent among the guests, nodded gravely.
"Some temperaments go mad when they reach the breaking-point; others faint."
"I'm glad you're the fainting kind, John," Mary smiled into his face, still pale and nervous. ”

“ On the other was an oaken wardrobe, with a top higher than the doctor could reach. He essayed the feat, in youthful exuberance, and paid for it the next moment when he sank down upon the bed, hand on heart. The comfort was quickly gone, however, and he rose to look out of the broad-silled window at the valley below.
The grass waved and glistened in the moonlight. In the distance, the circle of woods enclosed it, like a dark horizon line. The moon had mounted higher, but its slanting rays were not yet entering his chamber. No living thing moved within sight. ”

“ He could scarcely allow himself time to take her hat and coat and hang them in the darkened hallway.
"Shall we go up?" he demanded, breathlessly.
"I think so. We can't make it any easier by putting it off."
He led the way to the rear of the hall. Unconsciously, they tiptoed, though Mrs. Murdock was noisy in the kitchen. A single gas jet, turned low, disclosed the broad stairs, rising to the door at the top. The glare of the converter, reflecting from some bookcase door in the library to right of them, shone on the lower part of the polished baluster. Mary grasped his arm. ”

“ That points to a subconscious inhibition—something in his original life which dried up the springs, so to speak. Maybe he had loved once, before memory left him—when he was, perhaps, eighteen or nineteen—and could not love again. There you have my theory."
Marvin was silent, staring moodily into the flames. Jugrand rose, and, walking to the glass doors, slowly pushed them open. He spoke, softly:
"The one breathes heavily, and mutters in his dreams. The other is still; he would react to no test at present available to science. ”

“ You know, I promised your uncle to keep an eye on you. He had a long talk with me about you, only a few days before the end."
Once he was inside, with hat and cane deposited in their accustomed places, Jarvins bent his quizzical, uncomfortably keen eyes on the young man.
"You are not yourself, yet; and your trouble is mental, rather than physical. Am I correct?"
John Bamber nodded. He neither welcomed nor resented the suggestion.
"Then I have the right to offer my services," the old man continued.
"There is nothing that anyone can do," John returned, curtly. ”

“ The artist fairly shot his questions.
"No."
Jugrand spoke, deliberately choosing his words:
"I am interested in what he learned from himself—from his own mind. A man of his mentality can not have let such a matter rest. He must have employed the various expedients of psycho-analysis."
"He did. That, in fact, was the fight I referred to. He told me. Also, he took the more obvious course of trying to find the hospital where he had been ill. But if he ever succeeded, no hospital admitted it. Possibly the right one had been enjoined to secrecy, through his mother's influence." ”

“ He waited, in silence.
"My advice is that you go up to his room again tonight. Have someone else with you—someone more in sympathy with your mind that Mr. Jarvins is. If we can solve the secret of that room, we may be able to explain the coffin you saw, too."
She went on, still working out his plan for him.
"Mrs. Murdock won't do. Mr. Jarvins failed. John, it will have to be—"
He looked up into her face. She was smiling at him.
"It will have to be—Mary Lane!" ”

“ Jarvins pivoted on his heel, and swept the place with his glance. "I see—the room; it has never had much furniture, but what there was is still here. It seems you are making no changes—very properly, my boy, I should say. There is the little bookcase with his favorite volumes; the chess board on the table; his chair before the fireplace. ”

“ She laughed, frankly, and, seizing his hand in her own firm little one, dragged him unresisting to the bench. There she plumped down, and took both of his hands in hers, the better to emphasize, by patting them, the fact that she was scolding him soundly.
"What will you say next? Each night you've the most ridiculous excuse in the world. Then, the very next time, you come with a worse. Don’t you know, sir, that lovers should be ahead of their hour, and not tardy?"
The doctor was aware that the old couple had excused themselves. He was alone with the girl. ”

“ So it was that they listened intently—painfully—when Craddock started to tell of an informal party which he and Doctor Wilford Sawyer had attended together.
"In this room—a year ago. There must have been a dozen of us, more or less. Someone suggested that each of us tell something he did as a boy—some adventure—something out of the ordinary."
"As a boy—yes?" Marvin prompted, nervously.
He untwisted his lean legs from the Morris chair where he happened to be coiled, just then. He was suddenly on the alert. ”

“ Young John met his eye; and abruptly with the desperation of a man driven to seek the most unlikely aid, his resolve was taken.
"If you will, then, you can help me at this minute, Mr. Jarvins," he said, quietly. "I have just come from the room that was my uncle's. I should like you to go there with me."
"A little thing to do!" Jarvins smiled. "Will you lead or follow?" ”

“ She died that same year."
"You knew them then?" the surgeon asked. His voice was drowsy.
Jugrand nodded.
"I attended her funeral. He looks very much like her. The clergyman had a hard time getting enough information for his address."
Marvin relaxed in a brief smile. There is grim humor in the professional funeral eulogy. Then, as if fulfilling a difficult duty, Craddock palpably roused himself and launched into the remainder of what he had to say. ”

“ When he returns to his senses, he'll forget all about it. We must not take delirium seriously."
She had had to be content with that. Yet, pondering those delirious words, she had stolen away up the stairs, to peer into the vast room which had been old John Bamber's. She had seen gaunt Mrs. Murdock in there, dusting—that was all; that, and the vacant arm chair before the fireplace. ”

“ At thirty, he had finished college, and had served his year in a hospital. He could not have been more than forty when he came to us, and even then, I believe, he had an enviable reputation."
Jugrand nodded.
"He had it from the first. He is not of common clay with the rest of us. He is one of the immortals."
"And this in spite of the fight that never ceased for a moment," Craddock emphasized.
The artist jerked his head, impatiently.
"What fight? I don't understand. Loss of memory is bad enough, of course; but his mother must have told him a good deal ”