The Cruciform Mark. The strange story of Richard Tregenna, etc

Front matter

PRINTED BV 6POTTISWO0DE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON THE STRANGE STORY OF RICHARD TREGENNA BACHELOR OF MEDICINE (UNIV. ED1N.) BY RICCARDO STEPHENS, M.B. LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. Post Mortem i II. The All Souls' Clue 8 III. TWEEDSIDE 15 IV. Macleod's Smoker 22 V. The Face on the AA'ai.l 25 VI. 'Skins' 32 VII. A Nocturne 37 VIII. Joan of Arc 41 IX. A Leader of Thought 47 X. Mrs. Reay-Carter 53 XI. Disgraced 59 XII. AAtest-End Philanthropy 65 XIII. Between Two Fires 71 XI\r. Clegg's Tea Party 77 XV. The Lists are out S4 X\T. Doctor Tregenna 00 XVII. An Unwilling Prophet 96 XVIII. The Hand of Fate 103 XIX. Offended Dignity 109 XX. The Capping 116 XXI. Treasure Trove 119 XXII. The Countess of Jura 125 XXIII. Howell is mysterious 132 XXIV. Clegg breaks loose . 13S XXV.

A Professional Consultation . . . .144 XXAT. A Secret Society VI CHAP. PACE XXVII. Fate the Fiddler 157 XXVIII. Murder or ? 162 XXIX. The Cruciform Mark 169 XXX. Cave Canem 176 XXXI. A Weariness to the Flesh . . . .183 XXXII. A Deserter .188 XXXIII. The Earl's Birthday 192 XXXIV. A Race for Loye 199 XXXV. Noblesse Oblige 207 XXXVI. A Lost Leader 213 XXXVII. Said Word is Thrall 216 XXXVIII. In the Dissecting-room 223 XXXIX. An Editorial Committee 22S XL. Resurrectionists 234 XLI. Warnings ........ 242 XLII. My Horoscope 24S XLIII. The Countess Intervenes 256 XLIV. Our Misunderstanding 262 XLV. Martyrs to Science 267 XLVI. Rats and Snakes 274 XLYII. With the Nighthawks 279 XLVIII. A Dreamer of Dreams 2S6 XLIX. Hydrophids and Benzoline . . . .291 L. White Magic 298 LI. Tweedside again 304 LII.

A Mysterious Disappearance . . . . 310 LIII. Shadows 317 LIV. To the Sound of Tattoo 324 LV. In the Valley of the Shadow .... 329 LVI. De Mortuis ,-,2

Chapter I Post Mortem

It was June, in Edinburgh, and the Finals in Medicine were well on. To us, who were in, there seemed, and had seemed for the last month, nothing else really worth talking about. As for me, Richard Tregenna, I was sick of it all. It was of more importance to me than to many that I should pass that year, and I had slaved at a time when other men with less anxiety and more wisdom lived as if examinations were not and never would be. The result was that I could ' stay ' no longer, and I, on a sudden, grew careless. Cui bono ? I had worked honestly and hard, and could work no more. As I shied my Erichsen at the bookshelf, the shadow listed. There was sunshine outside, and standing in it I felt a longing for the country, and wandered away thinking of the hills and burns and rising yellow trout. I would go fishing until Friday night.

Even as I decided this, I found that my accustomed feet had carried me to the Infirmary, and that I was staring at the surgical notice board, with its memoranda of the day's operations. No, the surgical paper came next week — I would have none of that to-day — but as I strolled on, the grim but inconspicuous little notice board caught my eye, ' Post-mortem hodie,' and I went across to the post-mortem theatre, thinking of the sweet Tweed and the country about it as I passed in. I was a little early, and went to the front seats. A few third-year men lounged and chatted, or went over notes of the E morning lectures. One was coaching another in materia medica just behind me, and brought down a heavy fist on the desk close by my head whenever his friend mistook the dose — which was often. On the table just before me Lty a white sheet, and under the sheet was the stiff sharp outline of a body.

Familiarity breeds contempt, so they say, but surely not with all men, or for all things ? To a Final man, the shell of what was perhaps only yesterday a better and brighter creature than himself, is a familiar object, but it never lost a certain grave and curious interest for me, and I sat there now, dreamily speculating who she was or had been (a long dark tress of hair trailed to the ground) and where she was now. Idle speculation that last, but the first point was quickly settled, for the lecturer came in, the cloth was lifted aside, and I saw a face that I knew. It took me back to something that had happened the week before, when, as I was reading late at night in my own room, in the Rookery, as the residents profanely called the students' settlement where I lived, Clegg had come to ask me if I would see one of his cases with him.

Now, Clegg was a man of my year who had wisely decided to wait another twelve months before taking his Final ; it was therefore especially im portant to him to do nothing which might show that he thought he knew less than I, who had the cheek to face the examiners. So this is the way that Clegg, an ingenious fellow, had worked up to what he wanted. ' Beastly hot night. What a bore to be cramming now ! You're looking quite seedy. If you don't look out you'll break down before the Writtens ; why don't you go out for half an hour and then get to bed ? I swear your pupils are unequally dilated, and I believe there's astigmatism too.' ' Rot ! ' I retorted. ' Clear out ! I've got a couple more hours' work to do.' ' Now, look here,' persisted Clegg, ' haven't you got clinical surgery to-morrow ?' ' Yes,' I snapped at him. ' AVell, you won't know a probe from a probang, if you aren't careful.

Come out with me, I want to see a case in the Lawnmarket. I'm going to send her into hospital to-morrow, so you may get her in your clinical medicine later in the week.' POST MORTEM 3 ' Do you want me to come to some Lawnmarket den for fresh air ? ' I asked ; but I went, on Clegg's assurance that it was a good case, and this is what I saw. We passed through a dirty, airless court, where a king, and Hume, the prince of sceptics, once dwelt, now ornamented, as I knew, having seen it by day, only with drying clothes and the miscellaneous rubbish of the dust-bin, up a stair, odorous with the stinks of centuries, where two women hauled patiently at a drunken and blaspheming mass which was probably the lord and master of one of them. Up and up we went, past flat after flat of fighting, snoring, swearing humanity, here and there getting a whiff of freshness and a glimpse of sky through the narrow, barred stairwindows, till we reached the top, some eight storeys up, where, on a straw mattress, covered with a ragged patchwork coverlet, lay the patient.

She was a girl only eighteen or twenty, dark-eyed and black-haired, who would have been pretty had shelved a healthy life outside the dirt and temptation of cities ; but I knew her to be past-mistress, poor thing, in all forms of dissipation, and I knew her health had been wrecked thereby, for I had attended her through pneu monia only the winter before. ' I know the girl,' I said to Clegg ; ' but what do you find peculiar about the case ? She has half a dozen troubles. You've examined her chest, I suppose ? ' ' Oh yes, I know all that, but that's not the point. How has she been, Mrs. O'Reilly ? ' and he turned to one of the two women who stood by. ' The same, dochtor, always the same, and it's dying she is, but this lady ' (turning with true Irish politeness to the other creature) ' has minded her these two hours.

Tell the gentleman, Bridget, did she spake ? ' ' It's twice she's said " I'm dyin'," and twice she's said " glory," and no more will she open her mouth for bite or sup. If Father Rafferty don't come soon, Mrs. O'Reilly dear, it's a corpse he'll find to greet him.' ' Have you sent for the priest ? ' I asked. ' He'll be here in the morning, sorr,' answered Mrs. O'Reilly ; ' but will she live till then ? ' ' Live ! ' I answered, ' why, of course she will ; but if she is going to the Infirmary in the morning you must send to stop Father Rafferty, and he'll see her there. B I drew Clegg away to the window. ' What did you want me to see her for ? ' I asked. He answered by asking another question, ' Is she dying ? ' ' She's very low,' I answered, ' and she very likely is dying, especially if she thinks so, but she'll have a much better chance in the Infirmary.' 'What's she dying of?' asked Clegg, evidently not satisfied. ' Well, her lungs are all wrong, and the poor thing has lived a very hard life, I know.

Probably she's just sinking now out of sheer exhaustion.' Clegg gave a little sigh of relief. ' Well, after she gets into the Infirmary I'm not responsible, am I ? ' ' I don't know what you mean,' I said crossly. ' Whose ward will she go into ? ' ' Richie's.' ' Oh, of course,' I said sarcastically, ' if the case isn't quite clear to Richie, he'll call you in for consultation. Richie's always so doubtful of his own powers, isn't he ? I think I see him consulting a student ! ' But Clegg was not to be riled, neither did he seem very much inclined to talk further about it. He said, ' No doubt she'll be all right in the Infirmary,' and we came away together, leaving the two watchers, after refusing to taste the whisky with which they evidently intended to brighten the sick-room as much as possible.

Just as we were turning away from the bed the sick girl had opened her eyes widely and said, ' I'm dyin' ' in a firm, clear voice, and that was all she had said while we were there. I neither saw nor heard anything further of her until now, when I found her body stretched out before me on the table in the post-mortem theatre. I remembered all this while the examination went on. The girl had been taken, we were told, into Professor Richie's female ward, as Clegg had expected, and had died there, some five days later, complaining very little, but gradually failing. Richie himself seemed interested in the case, for he came in and stood pompous, portly, and self-satisfied, while Howell with his usual funereal air,|made the examination. Howell always did that in a manner which made me sure that in a past stage of existence he had been an undertaker, and in a future one would certainly be a vampire.

Indeed, there were already gruesome stories among junior medicals of HowelPs meals, where they were taken and of what they consisted, and POST MORTEM 5 he never gave George, the porter, orders to put aside some especially scientifically interesting organ, but what a grin and an only half-suppressed shudder would pass round among his more imaginative or younger students. Whether Howell knew of his sinister reputation I don't know, but I am sure that if he did know he did not care. Gaunt, red-bearded, funereal and cadaverous as he was, he was also an enthusiastic, hard-working and conscientious scientist, doing a great deal of unremu nerative work in a very unpretending way, and it was said that he had lately all but succeeded in tracing the complete life history of the red blood-corpuscle. Shy, and therefore cold and dry with his juniors, but always having the courage of his opinions, as he happened to show that morning.

The examination went on, perhaps a little more slowly than usual, with now and then a few clear words of description and comment from Howell, and little interjected exclamations from Richie, who always seemed pleasantly satisfied at his own wonderful acute ness, which was, according to him, verified in the kindest manner by his past patients when they made their appearance in the post-mortem theatre, to which (report said) a fair number of them found their way. All through the examination it was ' Exactly so.' ' Just as I had supposed.' ' A beautiful illustration of what I had described,' and so on. At the end, while Howell hung over the table like a great black - plumaged, red-headed bird of prey, looking as though he meditated clutching what was left and bearing it away to some dark corner, Richie evidently thought this an occasion to be improved. ' If Doctor Howell will allow me, gentlemen,' he said, with a little condescending nod toward the contemplative Howell, ' I should like to point out to you the well-marked series of events, the different stages of which I have endeavoured to describe in my little work onthe subject, possibly known to some of you, and so beautifully illustrated by what you now see.' The men on the benches stamped their applause, as in duty bound, but faintly as a rule, with the notable exception of one who wished to be funny and thumped so vigorously that he thought it best to leave at once.

Howell, completely absorbed in what was before him, nodded a careless consent, and went on peering and scrutinising anxiously, while the professor, swinging his gold-rimmed glasses, proceeded to explain all things with copious extracts from ' my little work.' It was at that moment that I heard a stumbling, and a grumbling from other men sitting in the same line as myself, which ended in a sharp curse from the man next to me, as Clegg stumbled over his foot in crushing past, and clumped down beside me. He paid no attention to his neighbour's freely expressed opinions of him, the size of his feet, his probable weight, and his general personal appearance, although Clegg, as a rule, was not a man to give either a soft answer or none. He didn't seem even to hear the injured one's remarks. He paid very little attention to Richie's eloquent explanations, but watched Howell anxiously while he stood and looked down on the table apparently forgetting where he was and what was going on around him. ' What does he say ? ' asked Clegg, jerking his head towards Howell's sombre figure. ' Nothing,' I returned. ' Why aren't you in your ward ? ' ' Wanted to know result,' whispered Clegg curtly, and con tinued to watch Howell in silence.

By this time Richie had explained everything to his own complete satisfaction. ' Death, gentlemen, must therefore inevitably ensue, in spite of my care and attention, since,' and then he went on into scientific phrases with which we have nothing to do, con cerning the inability of an important organ to perform its work. Unfortunately the Professor looked upon this organ as his own particular property. His 'little work ' had dealt with it extensively, and, I believe that, although he might have hesitated to acknowledge it, he secretly cherished an impression that an all-wise Providence had, as it were, formed that organ, with a view to his becoming its specialist. He therefore raised his voice to be heard by the back benches, and em phasised his points with his head turned in Howell's direction, so that even Howell must hear him.

The result was un satisfactory. Howell, roused from what seemed to be anxious thought, stared aghast at the Professor's easy explanations, and at last, as the great man beamed upon us from his heights of superior knowledge, Howell, getting hold both of him and of the par ticular organ in question, quite obviously began in an undertone to dispute his conclusions. The Professor's dignified astonish ment at such impertinence was interesting to see. At first POST MORTEM 7 he seemed merely playfully contemptuous, waving the matter off with his glasses swung in his plump right hand, as though dispute were impossible. But Howell was on his own ground, and in a position of trust, and he would not be denied. He pressed his point, he illustrated it, he repeated it, and both men grew hotter, and both voices grew louder, as they bent to one another over the table, while the corpse stared silently up at the ceiling between them, with what seemed a careless, sardonic grin upon its pale face, at these two learned men who knew so little and said so much, while it knew all and said nothing.

As their voices rose together I turned to Clegg for sym pathetic appreciation of the situation, but I was startled to see that if they had been discussing his own fate he could not have taken it more seriously. He was white to the lips and his breath came in little pants, while he clutched at the desk in front of him and leant forward, hungrily watching every movement of the lips of Howell, who was evidently his oracle. The discussion was ended by the Professor's turning away with more haste than dignity, and going out at the little side door, very much like an enraged turkey cock. As for Howell, he stood quiet for a few moments looking down at the body before him, and perhaps steadying himself before he spoke. At last he looked up. ' Gentlemen, you have had the various morbid appearances pointed out to you, and Professor Richie has also given you his opinion as to the cause of death.

Since I am your teacher in this place, I feel bound to tell you that I am not satisfied with his explanation. These changes which you see might, in my opinion, although serious, be far more advanced without causing death. I am bound to confess, as honest men must confess sometimes, even when they are much wiser than I pretend to be, that I am ignorant of the cause of death in this case, and that I shall arrange for a more thorough examination, the results of which I will report to you.' He nodded his intimation that there was nothing more to be done, and I rose to leave, but was startled by a heavy blow as I did so. Clegg, the hardened habitue of the infirmary and the dissecting-room, had fainted and fallen against me, and I and the man whose feet he had shown so little regard for, lifted him out between us.

Chapter II The All Souls' Club

That night, after dinner, persisting in my determination to read no more, and feeling that to sit in my room without working would be impossible, I decided to go out. While I wondered where I should spend the evening, my eyes fell upon an invitation card, of what would probably be called a chaste design. At the top was a gilt lyre twined with laurels, and under neath it was stated that this evening the members of the All Souls' Club would meet at No. 22 Merrion Street, which, as everybody knows, is the house of the celebrated Mrs. Reay- Carter. Now, I had considerable admiration for Mrs. Reay- Carter, though not for those qualities which were most pro minent in her. Her beauty was undoubted, her besetting sin and danger was indolence. The danger was the greater because her beauty, being of the type known as statuesque, her poses and movements had to correspond.

Hence exercise, so necessary from one point of view, was limited from the other, and what is known as carriage exercise (save the mark !) suited her attitudes and consequently her inclination best. I am ready to believe that she could be witty herself, and quick to see wit in others, but there again the fatal ' statuesque ' forbade such a danger to symmetry, lest too sudden a smile or too unrestrained a laugh should destroy the outline, and even in time create wrinkles. She had a pleasant voice too, and cultivated it, since it afforded opportunities for graceful attitudes, but clearness of enunciation threatens the soft curves of the mouth, and therefore no one ever knew what Mrs. Reay-Carter sang about. In spite of all these little weaknesses, however, I repeat that I had an admiration for Mrs. Reay-Carter on account of a natural defect, which I dare say by this time she will have overcome.

She was staunch to her friends and had a kindly disposition, of which I think she was a little ashamed. It savoured of the plebeian, and I have no doubt has been eradicated. I decided to seek for amusement and instruction from the THE ALL SOULS' CI/UB 9 All Souls' Club that night, and proceeded with many yawns and grumbles to get into evening dress, the All Souls' Club being in no way Bohemian either in dress or demeanour. While I was dressing Clegg came in, still looking a little shaky, and stretching out on my bed asked what I meant to do. I told him, and asked if he would care to come too, since I was at liberty to bring a friend. He was dubious for a time, for the dear fellow made no pretence to the particular order of intellect that shines at such gatherings, although he was often strong in retort and clear-sighted in most things.

He remembered, however, that ' some awfully fine girls ' might be there, and that Mrs. Reay-Carter in her more frivolous moments gave good dances ; he therefore went off to dress, having had my repeated assurance that he needn't shave. Behold us, then, entering the drawing-room of Mrs. Reay- Carter to the sound of the tinkling of spoons and teacups and the low hum of intellectual conversation. Mrs. Reay-Carter received us in a dress of startling originality, since to be original in dress just then was orthodox and fashionable, and with the very newest handshake which she had just brought from London. ' So good of you to come to our poor little meetings, Mr. Tregenna — or is it Doctor? Not yet? Oh, those horrid examinations ! Quite a number of men have disappointed me to-night because — what do you think ? — they're afraid to meet my hus band until he has examined them.

Isn't it absurd to be afraid of him ? You're more plucky, aren't you ? but then there's no fear for you. Now you won't be sarcastic to-night, will you ? I'm always so nervous if anything of mine is read when you're here.' I couldn't help smiling at this, for Mrs. Reay-Carter knew no more of nervousness than the knocker of her front door did, but she pounced on me at once. ' Now you're going to say something cruel, I know you are, and I'm going to run away.' ' I don't think I'm going to be cruel,' I said. ' I want to do my friend Mr. Clegg the kindness of introducing him to you, if you'll allow me?' and the introduction was accordingly made. ' You belong to the Settlement too, don't you ? ' asked Mrs. Reay-Carter, beaming upon him, 'and I'm afraid you'll be clever and horrid too. You're ali alike up there,' and she glided away to greet some newcomers, before poor Clegg had found words to repel the fearful accusation. ' What a deuced fine woman ! ' he murmured to me. ' Why she's a perfect Juno ! ' ' Don't tell her so,' I advised him. ' Diana is more her fancy, with a little of Minerva chucked in.

Shall I introduce you to some of the people ? ' And taking him round the room, which began to fill, I introduced him to some of the leading lights, until presently a little gong was sounded and the business of the meeting began. The paper of the evening, for ability, was one called ' How to help the Poor.' It was read by Muir, a medical student in his final year, whom I knew slightly, and who I thought was not known by Clegg at all. He was a tall, fair, rather heavily built man, with a handsome, sarcastic face, and most infernal manners. Directly his paper began, the sound of his voice made me prepared to fight every proposition he made, and to contradict every statement. I felt as though I were listening to a fiddle played out of tune, and, to my surprise, from the way Clegg began to fret and fume directly the man got up, he was evidently as impatient as I. As Muir went on there was fidgeting all over the room, no one seemed able to keep quiet, with the exception of his little blue-eyed fiancee, Elsie Reid, who sat opposite to him full of open admiration, more and more impressed by her lover's calm assumption of knowledge.

Before the paper was ended Clegg was jogging me violently with his elbow. ' May visitors speak, Tregenna ? May I speak ? ' ' May you what ? ' I asked contemptuously, ready to be rude to anyone in the irritated condition produced by Muir's voice and manner. ' May I speak, I say ? ' ' Of course, if you want to. I warn you, Muir's a Tartar.' Clegg shrugged his shoulders defiantly, and sat watching Muir as though he would like to spring at his throat. I was rather amused and very much surprised, for I could not imagine what Clegg knew or cared about the question of the poor, though he was ' Hail fellow, well met ' with everybody. But when Muir had finished and Clegg jumped up to answer him, I was still more surprised, for some stronger motive than I knew of gave him eloquence. Not being a great reader, and quite unaccustomed to debate, he didn't say much, his sentences THE ALL SOULS' CLUB 11 had no superfluous ornamentation, and he went for Muir in a straightforward, dashing way, to which the club was quite unaccustomed. 'Gave it him hot, old man, didn't I ?' he whispered. ' Very hot indeed,' I answered. ' We shall see you a Radical M.P. yet.

I had no idea that you were so devoted to your poorer brethren.' ' Ah, you don't know,' he said with an air of mystery and a huge sigh, after which he became so absorbed in his own thoughts that Muir's attempts at a crushing rejoinder were quite lost upon him, and fell very flat. That was the last paper of the evening, and the club broke up into laughing, chatting little groups. Mrs. Reay-Carter came across the room to us almost at once, and addressed herself to Clegg. ' How good of you to stand up so bravely for the poor dear people ! ' she said. ' You must join the club, you know, you really must, and fight Mr. Muir for us.' Clegg blushed and grunted, not being accustomed to such praise. ' I'm better with my hands than my tongue, I'm afraid, Mrs. Reay-Carter. I'm not used to this sort of thing.' ' Oh, you dreadful man ! you mustn't use your hands here.

But come, I want to introduce you to a Miss Verney. She is so pleased with what you said, and she wants to know you. Why, what's the matter, Mr. Clegg, you aren't afraid of ladies, are you ? Mr. Tregenna, tell me what I've done to frighten Mr. Clegg ? ' I turned to look at him, and frightened he certainly did seem. He stared hard at Mrs. Reay-Carter, without saying anything, and whether it was the electric light or not, I could not tell, but he certainly seemed to be getting pale under the sunburn that covered his face. ' He's been overworking, I think, Mrs. Reay-Carter. Shall I take you home, Clegg ? ' Clegg pulled himself together with a shake. ' No, thanks, old man, I'm all right. I was too long in the dissecting-room to-day, I think. I'm demonstrating, you know. Did you say you would introduce me to someone, Mrs. Reay- Carter?' And Mrs. Reay-Carter said 'Yes,' and took him away, while I became entrapped into conversation with a soi disant poetess who praised some rhymes of mine in the hope that it would make me praise hers.

This lady kept me so fully occupied that I saw nothing more of Clegg until he came back to suggest that we should go. As we went back along Princes Street, the June moon rose over the Castle, and a little wind brought the scent of flowers from the gardens. My examinations were forgotten for the time, and I must plead guilty to seeling sentimental, but I got no encouragement from Clegg. He walked almost silently by my side, and sat silently in my room when we reached it, looking out over the misty Forth, until at last I began to chaff him with having something on his conscience, whereupon he got up abruptly, and, wishing me ' good night,' went to his own room. I was alone now, but not at all inclined to sleep, and going to the window, I leant out into the June twilight. Away to the east, in the widening Firth of Forth, came and went the revolv ing light of Inchkeith ; westward rose the dim outline of part of the Castle Rock and grey, old Castle bastions.