Dr. Malchi: or, 'Who was I?'

Front matter

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THE LOST WITNESS. >. MOINA. By EMILE GABORIAU. I. THE DETECTIVE'S DILEMMA. 2. THE DETECTIVE'S TRIUMPH. 3. IN DEADLY PERIL. 4. CAUGHT IN THE NET. 5. THE CHAMPDOCE MYSTERY. A DETECTIVE IN ITALY. By HAY FORBES. A MYSTERIOUS CASE. By K. F. Hill. ON A WINTER'S NIGHT. By Sir G. CAMPBELL. BAZl BAZOUM ; or, a Strange Detective. By C. Robins. ' B ' CONFIDENTIAL. By Am ked H. Poultney. MYSTERY OF MANDEV1LLE SQUARE. CAMPBELL. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAG1S Introduction 1 I. Mt Awakening ' ; 2 II. Dr. Malchi 8 III. In the Doctor's Study 16 IV, Regina 21 V. I Discover my own Name 33 VI. My Investigations Receive a Check . . .43 VII. A Story of a Childhood 51 VIII. A Strange Contentment 55 IX. My Visitor 6) X. Narcissa Westmoreland 64 XI. At Colonel Westmoreland's House t , . 71 XII. I am Forgiven 80 XIII. Narcissa or Regina? 89 XIV.

Introduction

. The experience I am about to relate is, I suppose, one of the most extraordinary that ever befell mortal man — nay, I am almost tempted to go farther, and boldly avow that, in mystery and originality, it doubtless surpasses all other extraordinary experiences. The difficulty of relating it in such a manner as to convey to the reader anything like an adequate impression of it besets me, even before the ink in which I have traced the first words of this introduction is dry. How can I make clear to sceptical or (possibly) prejudiced minds what I can but dimly comprehend myself ? " There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in our philosophy," says Hamlet. The quotation is a hackneyed one ; but unless the reader who scans these prefatory observations will at once acknowledge its truth, he or she, as the case may be, is advised to read no farther.

I must confess that the difficulties which menace my remarkable narration are as formidable as numerous. Perhaps the one which has power to move me most is the fear lest my object in making it public should be misunderstood. I am neither a sensationalist nor literary charlatan, neither have I the faintest desire tc pander to the love for the mysterious which is more or less innate in every human breast. I care but little whether, after my story is read, it is credited or not. I shall have fulfilled my duty. I shall v. have given to the world the details of an experience which, I again assert, has, to the best of my belief, no parallel. There is, I frankly own, much in it that calls for explanation, and much that at first sight mav seem mystical and unfinished, but I cannot (and would not if I could) deviate from my original determination, viz., to write down, as simply as possible, the following wonderful narration.

Chapter I. My Awakening

I awoke out of a sound and dreamless slumber, for some moments afterwards my mind, as is often the case with newly-awakened sleepers, hovered between the borderland of oblivion and consciousness. Presently,a<_ my reasoning powers grew stronger, I opened my eyes, still somewhat sleepily, and regarded with lazy attention a stray sunbeam lying athwart the white coverlec. I do not know how many moments elapsed before a curious sensation — mark you well that word — slowly made itself felt in my quickening mind. The sensation was as disagreeable as curious. To get rid of it, I closed my eyes again, and vainly strove to forget it. It became, however, more asserting and more pertinent. With swift-growing impatience, I strove to analyse it, and, succeed ing in the abstract, failed in the main; of,. in other words, I discovered that the curious sensation had its origin in a far more curious, because totally unknown, source.

I daresay many people, in their waking moments, have experienced a singular lapse of memory concerning some trivial, or sometimes an important, past event in their lives. Slumber has temporarily effaced the event from their memories, but the consciousness that such and such a lapse of memory has been committed is invariably present, and the awakening mind cannot rest until it has recalled it. Take, for instance, a great sorrow or a great joy which has un- MY AWAKENING. 3 expeetedly occurred in the life of any ordinary man or woman The person awakes the morning after the eve-juand, in the case of it being a sorrowful one, feels a strange mental depression and sense of unhappiness before the recollection of the sorrow itself has manifested itself to the memory and in the case of an unexpected joy, or forthcoming pleasure, the newly-aroused sleeper feels an unwonted buoyancy of spirits, and a consciousness of happiness, while the quickened mind is travelling backwards to the source.

My own sensation, which I am endeavouring to describe, was similar to those quoted, only in the complete and con cious loss of memory. I experienced neither any remarkable buoyancy of spirits nor mental depression. I bad simply and entirely lost all my personal recollections. The ludicrous ness of my position appealed irresistibly to my sense of humour, aud I smiled broadly to myself as I waited for the tide of memory to turn. The watch over my head ticked away another five minute, and then I sprang up in bed and tried to laugh at my dilemma. My laugh died suddenly away. My lapse of memory each second caused me more annoyance. I could not have told, even to have saved my life, what the day of the month or the week was. I applied several (laughable, I think them now) tests to my memory. What did I have for dinner yesterday ?

Could indigestion possibly be to blame for my extraordinary forgetfulness ? I could not remember partaking of any food, either on the yesterday, or any other day of my life. " Pooh, pooh, that is nothing.," I cried aloud. " Thousands of diners cannot remember what they have recently eaten, Let me think instead of how I spent yesterday. Come now. Where aid I go ? What did I do ? " Memory failed to answer roe. With increasing alarm I strove to force myself to recollect, but my fruitless endeavours recoiled on myself. Questions only presented themselves to my perplexed mind ; questions to which I could give no answers. I tried to think of impersonal matters, and in so doing I recovered the calmness which I intuitively felt rather than knew belonged to me. Queen Victoria was the Sovereign to whom I yielded humble allegiance.

The Marquess of Salisbury b was Prime Minister of England. Mr. Gladstone had recently delivered hi^elf of the longest speech on record. I heaved a deep sigh of relief, and then — I chanced for the :rst iime to glance round the room in which I had lately ajoyed so profound a slumber. All was unfamiliar and totally unrecognisable to me. Peads of perspiration slowly gathered on my forehead, and a strange sdntness, averted only by a strong effort of will, menaced me. Parting aside the silken curtains of the bed, I eagerly and curiously surveyed my surroundings. All the ordinary and comfortable fittings of a bed-chamber met my eyes ; tables, chairs, upholsteries, were of a substantial, almost luxurious, character; but their very lack of friendly attributes terrified me. I knew them not. To the best of my belief I had never beheld the room or the room's furniture before.

" I must be dreaming," I muttered to myself, pressing my hands over my eyes ; " I shall awake presently from a remarkable nightmare." The sound of my own voice reassured me. I took courage after a moment or two, and looked up almost expecting by that time to find that the room had lost its utterly unfamiliar aspect. I was disappointed ; the prosaic furniture remained unchanged, its very substantiality seemed to render the idea of its indulging in transformation feats of any kind extremely unlikely. The brass handles of the wardrobe blinked in the sunshine, and the white curtains at the window swayed gently to and fro in the morning breeze. A sweet perfume was suddenly wafted to my nostrils. I turned my head and noticed an exquisite halfblown white rose in a tall and slender Bohemian vase on a small tablo near my left hand.

I gazed again and again at it. Who had placed it there ? Had I myself . What gentle association was connected with it ? I shook my head in total inability to solve these conundrums, and then, sharply drawing the curtain, I shut out the sight of the rose, and strove with a prodigious effort of will to awake from the paralysing night mare. I failed dismally. The truth was slowly forcing itself upon me, but I fought it furiously back. I would not acknowledge, even to myself, that I had awoke from my strange slumber, entirely ignorant of my own identity. MY A WAKENING. 5 I sprang out of the bed and paced the room, Who was I ? Whence had I come ? Whither was I going ? Great heaved ! had ever sane man asked himself such questions before ? Ah ! was I sane ? I stopped short in my hurried pacing, appalled at the only solution of my terrible awakening that presented itself to me.

Madmen, I had read once (I could remember book and author, but not any other connective circum stances), had no remembrance of past events. Ergo, I was mad. Stop, I would further test my memory before I accepted so dread an ultimatum. With a trembling voice I recited several famous soliloquies culled from various authors. I seized a pencil and sheet of paper which haply lay near me, and easily translatedfrom memory a goodly portion of Sophocles' Avnyovr). I solved difficult mathematical problems. I worked out several intricate calculations, and only when fully assured that my singular loss of memory had not affected my intellectual powers did I lay down the pencil and endeavour to realise my position. I had forgotten my own name, personality, manner of past life, all former associations, friends; everything, in short, with which I once must have been individually connected.

I was not mad. My head was clear, my thinking powers un clouded. Save for my reasoning and intellectual abilities, I might have been just born into the world, so utterly oblivious was I of all that had happened to me. Was ever man placed in such a predicament before ? I groaned, as, seating myself at the little table beside the bed, I despairingly attempted to think out the cure for my novel disease. If only I had pos sessed the slightest clue — if only my own name had been whispered into my ear, the flood-gates of memory would. I felt assured, at once surrender. I had verily drank of the waters of Lethe — but how ? when ? where ? " I will be calm and composed," I determinedly declared. " I will, at least, remember my own name, even if I have to wrestle it letter by letter from the alphabet."

Greatly comforted by my resolution, I repeated aloud as many masculine Christian names commencing with A as I could po.3sibly remember, and only after I had exhausted my tolerably long list did I begin at B, and so on to C. My task necessarily occupied some considerable time, and, when completed, found me no nearer discovering my own name than I had been before I had run the alphabetical gamut. Once or twice indeed I had halted somewhat hopefully over a particular letter, but as that letter invariably chanced to be of the Y or Z order, I was consequently offered but a limited selection of names to choose from, and none of them, on close consideration, seemed exactly desirable cognomens. " What in the world shall I do, I thought, hopelessly, when, cheque-book in hand, I find myself still mentally searching for my lost name _ Stop ! that question suggested a legion of other questions.

Had I a cheque-book, or, more important still, a banking account ? Was I a rich or a poor man ? Was I young or' old ? handsome or ugly ? I debated these important questions with indescribable anxiety. A thought suddenly struck me. I could at least solve the two last. I strode to the cheval glass, and with bated breath surveyed myself. Was the reflection thus presented to me really my own ? I gazed again and again at it. My memory was not in the slightest degree resuscitated by it. I might have been, for aught it recalled to me, looking on tbe face and form of a complete stranger. Let me describe, as well as I can, the reflection in the cheval glass. I saw a tall young man, clad in a silken-lined dressing-gown ; he was well built, but something about his general appear ance betokened either recent indisposition or else the delicacy which is alone produced by much studious confinement.

I dwelt upon the regularity of his features and the refinement of expression with much pleasure. Certainly, just now, alarm and unmixed amazement were depicted to no small extent upon his countenance, but under less extraordinary circumstances and a gentler play of emotions, it would, I felt assured, be deemed an extremely interesting one. " I am both young and handsome," I murmured with a sigh of relief, as I sank again into my chair. But my con tentment did not last long; I had only been enabled to answer the least important of my questions. My own identity was as' far from being established as ever. " Who was I ?" The perplexing query seemed stamped in letters of fire upon my brain. It was ludicrous no longer — it was terrifying. MY AWAKE! 7 The breath of the rose was softly borne to me {,:_ the morn ing breeze.

I, with a strange impatience, left its proximity. It alone, of all my surroundings, seemed associated some memory — forgotten, it is true, but nevertheless felt. Suddenly my eyes: rested on the pile of garments neatly folded beside my recently-vacated bed. Eureka ! I had found the clue at last. Surely familiar apparel would prove to be the key which would unlock the hiding-place of memory. I eagerly examined one by one the garments, but, alas ! I was doomed to be disappointed. Eacli was of fine texture and fashion, but. brand new. I searched the pockets of the coat placed for me to wear (placed by whom ?), but all were empty. Not a scrap of writing, or the veriest trifle that might have belonged to my forgotten self could I by diligent search discover. In the pockets of the waistcoat I found some twenty sovereigns, and these, so far as I knew, repre sented my sole worldly wealth.

I tubbed and dressed myself in mute despair. "When I opened the door of my mysterious bed-chamber, what should I find ? More mysteries, or an elucidation of my terrible position ? The latter I earnestly hoped for. Presently I became conscious of the remarkable stillness of the house in which I had so strangely found myself an inmate. I had been too much absorbed before to heed, or indeed notice it ; but I remembered now that I had heard none of the usual domestic noises. No opening or closing of doors, no footsteps, no voices; not one of the hundred early morning sounds which are distinctly audible even in the quietest household. I gazed at the door with, I am ashamed to say, something like fear. My mind [instantly became full of fantastic and foolish fancies. Had I been bewitched and made to awake from an enchanted slumber with a different individuality ?

Had I been transported to a different sphere wherein all the past was forgotten ? Had I /lived centuries ago, and been born again a new creature ? The sudden shrill, sweet song of a bird outside my window rebuked my wild conjectures, and, in a measure, restored my equanimity. Directly the little songster had flown away, I crossed over to the window, and, widely opening it, contemplated the view of the outside world presented to me. Surely across the vista of chimney -pots I could, discern the dome of Si. Paul's. My heart beat fast with thankful ness., . I was in London ; that fact was alone sufficient to drive away my nameless fears. No unknown hemisphere Siaimed me for its own. No magician had spell-bound me ; but yet — and with the thought I sadly turned away from the window — the dome of St. Paul's and other recognisable land marks had sailed to restore to me my lost identity.

I thought of Hans Andersen's shadowless man, and envied him. He had but lost his shadow ; I might be said to have lost my substantiality. I would no longer, though, waste my time in lamenting my lost state — I would boldly leave my chamber and seek its cure. Brushing past the table in my haste to carry out my new resolution, I unwittingly inhaled the perfume of the rose again. Its scent seemed borne to me in the guise of a faint sigh, I took it into my hand and looked long and earnestly at it before I replaced it in the vase. What was its association with my past life ? As I asked myself this unanswerable question, I raised my eyes and met the gaze of a singular-looking man who had noiselessly crossed the threshold of my chamber. Seeing that I had observed him, he advanced a step further, and, in a clear and musical voice, said : " I am Dr. Malchi. Who are you ? "

Chapter II

IiR. MALCHI. I do not know how long we stood fixedly regarding each other. I — unable to answer his simple question — stared at him with a curiosity perhaps excusable under the extraordinary circumstances of our meeting. He — standing at his ease, and with a singular smile parting his strangely expressive lips — surveyed me (its' I thought with sudden indefinable anger) after the mauner in which the vivisectionist surveys a °recently-experimented-on rabbit. I have said that he was a singular-looking man, but I doubt if the word singular aptly describes him ; he was more — he was extraordinary, repulsive, and yet remarkably attractive. He was (if I may be allowed so paradoxical an expression) a milk-white mulatto. That is to say that, while his closely curling but silky, rather than woolly, hair, and prominent, wide, nostrilled nose, and full, sensuous lips, unmistakably pointed to his West Indian or Spanish-American ancestry, yet these characteristics his perfectly white skin and large brilliant eyes attempted to contradict.

I do not even now know the exact hue of the latter, but, despite their brilliancy, and remarkable powers of expression, they were cruel eyes ; but, here again a contradiction — their cruelty was belied by the self-indulgent and indolent curve of chin and facial outline altogether. The doctor seemed aware of the mental analysis to which his face was being subjected, for his smile deepened suddenly. " I am Dr. Malchi," he said again. " Who are you ? " I knew that he was mocking my inability to answer his question, and I naturally resented his impertinence. " Stand aside," I said, haughtily. " I care not who you are, and it cannot matter to you who I am." The smile vanished from his face, and was replaced by a somwhat anxious frown. "Before you treat me thus cavalierly, young sir," he said, " would it not be as well to ascertain your obligations to me ?"

His words had much the same effect upon me as a sudden douche of cold water might. I shivered and drew a sharp breath. What were ray obligations to this man ? Great heaven ! who was he, aud who was I . I suppose he noticed my spasm of emotion, for, advancing closer, he laid his hand upon my shoulder and said kindly enough : " You are excited, and therefore petulant ; but I do not easily take offence. Come with me. I am just going to breakfast ; you will bear me company ? " I shook my head. " Food would choke me just now," I replied ; and then, after a brief struggle with my pride, I brokenly told the doctor of my extraordinary failure of memory. "My past life is a blank— a complete blank to me," I said, in conclusion. " Far heaven's sake, man, do not laughs at me, I have forgotten everything— everything concerning my own identity."

Far from evincing the least desire to laugh, Dr. Malchi regarded me with grave and interested attention. '"Your case is a strange, but not utterly unique, one,"^he said, presently ; " but with your leave we will discuss it after we have broken our fast." I impatiently freed myself from his detaining hand. "I cannot eat." I said (very rudely, I am afraid). " Do you not see that you alone have power to help me ? Tell me who I am ; you must know, since apparently I am your guest. Tell me how I came here, and when." He raised his hand somewhat playfully. " I am afraid I cannot satisfy your natural curiosity," he good humouiedly replied ; " but do not be disheartened. After breakfast we will exchange confidences— at least," he added quickly, " you shall tell me all you know of yourself, and then I will till you when, and under what circumstances, you became n?y very welcome guest."

He turned, as he spoke, to the open door, but I caught him by the arm. " Answer me you shall one question," I determinately declared. "Am I . mad ? Answer me, man, and answer me truly." The doctor was unaffectedly amazed at the question. He replied at once with evident sincerity. " Mad ! No, a thousand times no. You are as sane as I am." I heaved a sigh of relief. My worst fear was exorcised. " Come, follow me," commanded Dr. Malchi, glancing over his shoulder as he descended the staircajse. I followed him almost mechanically. He had— although I guessed it not. — already taught me to obey him. He led the way into a plainly-furnished room, wherein a substantial breakfast was awaiting him. Seating himself at the head of the table, he motioned me to a seat at his ri" ht hand. Directly we had taken our places a woman servant noiselessly entered the room, and glided behind the doctor's chair.

I glanced at her with quick interest, but, alas 1 her face was that of a stranger's, and it was easy to be seen (so, at least, I thought), by her stealthy and inquisitive glance at me when first she entered the room, that she had not before been cognisant of my presence in the house. " I have already learned two things," I meditatively reflected as I sipped my coffee. " Firstly, that I am a stranger here. Secondly, that this house has not sheltered me for many hours." Dr. Malchi discoursed very pleasantly on gossipping social topics during the meal, and I, although disinclined for such conversation, was never at a loss to understand his allusions. " I have not yet had time," he casually remarked, " to see H."- -mentioning a certain actor who, to the best of my belief, had only been in London some three months.

" Have you not ? " I answered, rather absently, for my thoughts were elsewhere ; " I have — once." The doctor glanced at me with a strange interest apparent in his brilliant eyes. He had noticed the halt in my reply, and he had guessed that it was due to my lack of any per sonal recollections in connection with that visit to the theatre. Had I gone alone, or with friends ? Where had I gone afterwards ? I knit my brow in perplexity, and, pushing away my cup, waited with ill-concealed impatience for the doctor to finish his repast. As I waited, I, without, I hope, being guilty of any grave breach of etiquette, more attentively scrutinised the face anc figure of my extraordinary host. I judged him to be about fifty years of age ; certainly not more. He was of moderate height and sinewy figure which intuitively gave the beholder an idea of somewhat unusual strength and powers of endurance ; which idea was borne out by his long, but remarkably well-shaped, hands and wrists, on which the nervous, whipcord-like muscles could be plainly seen.

His face attracted and repelled me The dead white of his skin against his black, clustering hair was a veritable masterpiece of colouring ; but the contrasts harmonised, although each gained an added peculiarity. His features certainly bore out all the characteristics of the base-born mulatto, but his noble forehead and grand head might have been inherited from kingly progenitors. He was evidently an educated man, and en rapport with all the social and aristocratic topics of the day, and — but here my mental speculations were brought to an abrupt conclusion. " I see that you are regarding with interest our deaf and dumb attendant," smilingly observed Dr. Malchi. " I will tell you one day, if you will deign to listen to it, her some what remarkable history." i I coloured wi;h shame. He had pretended to attribute my inquisitivene.is to the affliction of the woman who stood like a statue behind his chair, and who I, for the first time, noticed to be a deaf mute.

I stammered out a half-apology to him; he had courteously rebuked my impertinent curiosity. " I am not surprised at your notice of my silent hand maiden," he said, with a half-laugh ; and still keeping up the farce of my supposed interest in the deaf and dumb woman, " but you will, I doubt not, get used to her in time. She is an invaluable servant, and her lack of speech," he added, lightly, " is one of her chief recommendations — to me at least." I did not relish his vague suggestions concerning the pro longation of my stay in his house ; so, ignoring the subject of his idle remarks, I said decisively : " As 1 do not iutend to inflict my company upon you longer than I can help, my personal likes and dislikes will neither affect your household — nor yourself." Not to have saved my life could I have helped including the doctor as one who could have no authority over me in the future, in my declaration of independence ; but, contrary to my expectation, he did not seemingly resent the liberty.

He only smiled and slightly raised his eyebrows. " 1 beg your pardon, sir ; you have said truly ; you will not. of course, honour my poor house longer with your presence — than you can help." I glanced sharply at him ; but apparently be had answered me without any sinister meaning lurking in his words, and I was already half ashamed of my assertion, which certainly savoured of ingratitude. Had I forgotten my helplessness if he refused to aid me ? He alone could solve niyr terrible conundrum. He laid his knife and fork down at last, and daintily passed a napkin across his lips. " Now I am at your service," he said, rising. " If you will accompany me into my study, we can converse undis turbed. See that we are, Leah," he added, turning to the dumb waitingwoman, whose eyes were attentively fixed on his lips.

She bowed her head assentingly, and opened the room door for her master and myself to pass out. At the end of the long vestibule hung an olive-green curtain, curiously embroidered with gold arabesques. Draw ing this aside. Dr. Malchi revealed behind it a door, which, taking the key from his pocket, he unlocked. He motioned me to precede him into the room, and then carefully closed and locked the door again. " We will guard against interruptions," he said, in smiling apology of his latter act, and, handing me a chair, he seated himself opposite me. The room was furnished with a semi-barbaric luxury, and admirably harmonised with its owner's peculiar caste of countenance ; but I was too self-absorbed to admire, or indeed notice, the thousand rare and beautiful curiosities of all kinds lavishly scattered around.