The Doctor's Dilemma

Chapter I. An Open Door

1 THINK I was as nearly mad as I could be; nearer madness, I believe, than I shall ever be again, thank God ! Three weeks of it had driven me to the very verge of desperation. I cannot say here what had brought me to this pass, for I do not know into whose hands these pages may fall ; but I had made up my mind to persist in a certain line of conduct which I firmly believed to be right, while those who had authority over me, and were stronger than I was, were resolutely bent upon making me submit to their will. The conflict had been going on, more or less violently, for months ; now I had come very near the end of it. I felt that I must either yield or go mad. There was no chance of my dying; I was thought too strong for that. There was no other alternative than subjection or insanity. It had been raining all the day long, in a ceaseless driv ing torrent, which had kept the streets clear of passengers.

I could see nothing but wet flagstones, with little pools of water lodging in every hollow, in which the rain-drops splashed heavily whenever the storm grew more in earnest. Now and then a tradesman's cart, or a cab, with the drivers wrapped in mackintoshes, dashed past; and I watched them till they were out of my sight. It had been the dreariest of days. My eyes had followed the course of solitary drops rolling down the window panes, until my head ached. Toward nightfall I could distinguish a low, wailing tone, moaning through the air ; a quiet prelude to a coming change in the weather, which was foretold also by little rents in the thick mantle of cloud, which had shrouded the sky all day. The storm of rain was about to be succeeded by a storm of wind. Any change would be acceptable to me.

There was nothing within my room less dreary than without. I was in London, but in what part of London I did not know. The house was one of those desirable family residences, advertised in the Times as to be let furnished, and promising all the comforts and refinements of a home. It was situated in a highly respectable, though not altogether fashionable quarter; as I judged by the gloomy, monotonous rows of buildings which I could see from my windows: none of which were shops, but all private dwellings. The people who passed up and down the streets on fine days were all of one stamp, well-to-do persons, who could afford to wear good and handsome clothes ; but who were infinitely less interesting than the dear picturesque beggars of Italian towns, or the sprightly well-dressed peasantry of French cities.

The rooms on the third floor- — my rooms, which I had not been allowed to leave since we entered the house, three weeks before — were very badly furnished, indeed, with comfortless, high horsehair-seated chairs, and a sofa of the same uncomfortable material, cold and slippery, on which it was im possible to rest. The carpet was nearly threadbare, and the curtains of dark red moreen were very dingy; the mirror over the chimney-piece seemed to have been made purposely to distort my features, and produce in me a feeling of depression. My bed-room, which communicated with this agreeable sitting-room by folding -doors, was still smaller and gloomier; and opened upon a dismal back yard, where a dog in a kennel howled dejectedly from time to time, and rattled his chain, as if to remind me that I was a prisoner like himself. 1 had no books, no work, no music.

It was a dreary place to pass a dreary time in ; and my only resource was to pace to and fro — to and fro from one end to another of those wretched rooms. I watched the day grow dusk, and then dark. The rifts in the driving clouds were growing larger, and the edges were torn. I left off roaming up and down my room, like some entrapped creature, and sank down on the floor by the window, looking out for the pale, sad blue of the sky which gleamed now and then through the clouds, till the night had quite set in. I did not cry, for I am not given to over-much weeping, and my heart was too sore to be healed by tears ; neither did I tremble, for I held out my hand and arm to make sure they were steady ; but still I felt as if I were sinking down — down into an awful, profound despondency, from which I should never rally; it was all over with me.

I had nothing before me but to give up, and own myself over-matched and conquered. 1 have a half-remembrance that as I crouched there in the darkness, I sobbed once, and cried under my breath, "God help me!" A very slight sound grated on my ear, and a fresh thrill of strong resentful feeling quivered all through me ; it was the hateful click of the key turning in the lock. It gave me force to carry out my defiance a little longer. Before the door could be opened I sprang to my feet, and stood erect, and outwardly very calm, gazing through the win dow, with my face turned away from the persons who were coming in; I was so placed that I could see them reflected in the mirror over the fire-place. A servant came first, carrying in a tray, upon which were a lamp and my tea — such a meal as might be prepared for a school-girl in disgrace.

She came up to me as if to draw down the blinds and close the shutters. "Leave them," I said; "I will do it myself by and-by." " He's not coming home to-night," said a woman's voice behind me, in a scoffing tone. I could see her too, without turning round. A hand some woman with bold black eyes, and a rouged face, which showed coarsely in the ugly looking-glass. She was extravagantly dressed, and wore a profusion of ornaments — tawdry ones, mostly, but one or two I recognized as my own. She was not many years older than myself. I took no notice whatever of her, or her words, or her presence ; but continued to gaze out steadily at the lamp-lit streets and stormy sky. Her voice grew hoarse with pas sion, and I knew well how her face would burn and flush under the rouge. " It will be no better for you when he is at home," she said fiercely.

" He hates you ; he swears so a hundred times a day, and he is determined to break your proud spirit for you. We shall force you to knock under sooner or later; and I warn you it will be best for you to be sooner rather than later. What friends have you got any where to take your side? If you'd made friends with me, my fine lady, you'd have found it good for yourself; but you've chosen to make me your enemy, and I'll make him your enemy. You know as well as I do, he can't bear the sight of your long, puling face." Still I did not answer by word or sign. I set my teeth together, and gave no indication that I had heard one word of her taunting speech. My silence only served to fan her fury. "Upon my soul, madam," she almost shrieked, "you are enough to drive me to murder! I could beat you, standing there so dumb, as if I was not worthy to speak a word to.

Ay! and I would, but for him. So then three weeks of this hasn't broken you down yet! but you are only making it the worse for yourself ; we shall try other means to-morrow." She had no idea how nearly my spirit was broken, for I gave her no reply. She came up to where I stood, and shook her clenched hand in my face — a large well-shaped hand, with bejewelled fingers, that could have given me a heavy blow. Her face was dark with passion ; yet she was maintaining some control over herself, although with great difficulty. She had never struck me yet, but I trembled and shrank from her, and was thankful when she flung herself out of the room, pulling the door violently after her, and locking it noisily, as if the harsh jarring sounds would be more terrifying than the tones of her own voice. Left to myself I turned round to the light, catching a fresh glimpse of my face in the mirror — a paler and sadder and more forlorn face than before.

I almost hated myself in that glass. But I was hungry, for I was young, and ray health and appetite were very good ; and I sat down to my plain fare, and ate it heartily. I felt stronger and in better spirits by the time I had finished the meal; I resolved to brave it out a little longer. The house was very quiet ; for at present there was no one in it except the woman and the servant who had been up to my room. The servant was a poor London drudge, who was left in charge by the owners of the house, and who had been for bidden to speak to me. After a while I heard her heavy shambling footsteps coming slowly up the staircase, and passing my door on her way to the attics above ; they sounded louder than usual, and I turned my head round involuntarily. A thin, fine streak of light, no thicker than a thread, shone for an instant in the dark corner of the wall close by the door-post, but it died away almost be fore I saw it.

My heart stood still for a moment, and then beat like a hammer. I stole very softly to the door, and discovered that the bolt had slipped beyond the hoop of the lock — probably in the sharp bang with which it had been closed. The door was open for me!

Chapter II. To Southampton

THERE was not a moment to be lost. When the servant came down-stairs again from her room in the attics, she would be sure to call for the tea-tray, in order to save herself another journey ; how long she would be up-stairs was quite uncertain. If she was gone to " clean " herself, as she called it, the process might be a very long one, and a good hour might be at my disposal ; but I could not count upon that. In the drawing-room below sat my jailer and enemy, who might take a whim into her head, and come up to see her prisoner at any instant. It was necessary to be very quick, very decisive, _nd very silent. I had been on the alert for such a chance ever since my imprisonment began. My seal-skin hat and jacket lay ready to my hand in a drawer; but I could find no gloves; I could not wait for gloves.

Already there were ominous sounds overhead, as if the servant had despatched her brief business there, and was about to come down. I had not time to put on thicker boots ; and it was perhaps essential to the success of my flight to steal down the stairs in the soft velvet slippers I was wearing. I stepped as lightly as I could — lightly but very swiftly, for the servant was at the top of the upper flight, while I had two to descend. I crept past the drawing-room door. The heavy house door opened with a grating of the hinges ; but I stood outside it, in the shelter of the portico — fret but the rain and wind of a stormy night in October beating against me, and with no light save the glimmer of the feeble street lamps flickering across the wet pavement. I knew very well that my escape was almost hopeless, for the success of it depended very much upon which road of the three lying before me I should happen to take.

I had no idea of the direction of any one of them, for I had never been out of the house since the night I was brought to it. The strong quick running of the servant, and the passionate fury of the woman, would overtake me if we were to have a long race ; and if they overtook me they would force me back. I had no right to seek freedom in this wild way, yet it was the only way. Even while I hesitated in the portico of the house that ought to have been my home, I heard the shrill scream of the girl within when she found my door open, and my room empty. If I did not decide instantaneously, and decide aright, it would have been better for me never to have tried this chance of escape. # But I did not linger another moment. I could almost believe an angel took me by the hand and led me. I darted straight across the muddy road, getting my thin slippers wet through at once, ran for a few yards, and then turned sharply round a corner into a street, at the end of which I saw the cheery light of shop-windows, all in a glow in spite of the rain.

On I fled breathlessly, unhindered by any passer-by, for the rain was still falling, though more lightly. As I drew nearer to the shop-windows, an omnibus-driver, seeing me run toward him, pulled up his horses in expectation of a passenger. The conductor shouted some name which I did not hear, but I sprang in, caring very little where it might carry me, so that I could get quickly enough and far enough out of the reach of my pursuers. There had been no time to lose, and none was lost. The omnibus drove on again quickly, and no trace of me was left. I sat quite still in the farthest corner of the omnibus, hardly able to recover my breath after my rapid running. I was a little frightened at the notice the two or three other passengers appeared to take of me, and I did my best to seem calm and collected.

My ungloved hands gave me some trouble, and I hid them as well as I could in the folds of my dress ; for there was something remark able about the want of gloves in any one as well dressed as I was. But nobody spoke to me, and one after another they left the omnibus, and fresh persons took their places, who did not know where I had got in. I did not stir, for I determined to go as far as I could in this conveyance. But all the while I was wondering what I should do with my self, and where I could go, when it reached its destination. There was one trifling difficulty immediately ahead of me. When the omnibus stopped I should have no small change for paying my fare. There was an Australian sovereign fastened to my watch-chain, which I could take off, but it would be difficult to detach it while we were jolting on.

Besides, I dreaded to attract attention to my self. Yet what else could I do ? Before I had settled this question, which occupied me so fully that I forgot other and more serious difficulties, the omnibus drove into a station-yard, and every passenger, inside and out, prepared to alight. I lingered till the last, and sat still till I had unfastened my gold piece. The wind drove across the open space in a strong gust as I stepped down upon the pavement. A man had just de scended from the roof, and was paying the conductor: a tall, burly man, wearing a thick water-proof coat, and a seaman's hat of oil-skin, with a long flap lying over the back of his neck. His face was brown and weather-beaten, but he had kindly-looking eyes, which glanced at me as I stood waiting to pay my fare. '' Going down to Southampton?

" said the conductor to him. " Ay, and beyond Southampton," he answered. " You'll have a rough night of it," said the conductor. '•' Sixpence, if you please, miss." I offered him my Australian sovereign, which he turned over curiously, asking me if I had no smaller change. He grumbled when I answered no, and the stranger, who had not passed on, but was listening to what was said, turned pleasantly to me. " You have no change, mam'zelle? " he asked, speaking rather slowly, as if English was not his ordinary speech. " Very well! are you going to Southampton? " " Yes, by the next train," I answered, deciding upon that course without hesitation. "So am I, mam'zelle," he said, raising his hand to his oil-skin cap: "I will pay this sixpence, and you can give it me again, when you buy your ticket in the office."

I smiled quickly, gladly ; and he smiled back upon me, but gravely, as if his face was not used to a smile. I passed on into the station, where a train was standing, and people hurrying about the platform, choosing their carriages. At the ticket-office they changed my Australian gold-piece without a word; and I sought out my seaman friend to return the sixpence he had paid for me. He had done me a greater kindness than he could ever know, and I thanked him heartily. His honest, deep -set blue eyes glistened under their shaggy eyebrows as they looked down upon me. " Can I do nothing more for you, mam'zelle? " he asked. " Shall I see after your luggage? " " Oh ! that will be all right, thank you," I replied, " but is this the train for Southampton, and how soon will it start ? " I was watching anxiously the stream of people going to and fro, lest I should see some person who knew me.

Yet who was there in London who could know me ? " It will be off in five minutes," answered the seaman. " Shall I look out a carriage for you ? " He was somewhat careful in making his selection ; finally he put me into a compartment where there were only two ladies, and he stood in front of the door, but with his back turned toward it, until the train was about to start. Then he touched his hat again with a gesture of farewell, and ran away to a second-class carriage. I sighed with satisfaction as the train rushed swiftly through the dimly-lighted suburbs of London and entered upon the open country. A wan, watery line of light lay under the brooding clouds in the west, tinged with a lurid hue ; and all the great field of sky stretching above the level landscape was overcast with storm-wrack, fleeing swiftly before the wind.

At times the train seemed to shake with the blast, when it was passing over any em bankment more than ordinarily exposed ; but it sped across the country almost as rapidly as the clouds across the sky. No one in the carriage spoke. Then came over me that weird feeling familiar to travellers, that one has been doomed to travel thus through many years, and has not half accomplished the time. I felt as if I had been fleeing from my home, and those who should have been my friends, for a long and weary while ; yet it was scarcely an hour since I had made my escape. In about two hours or more — but exactly what time I did not know, for my watch had stopped — my fellow passengers, who had scarcely condescended to glance at me, alighted at a large, half-deserted station, where only a few lamps were burning.

Through the window I could see that very few other persons were leaving the train, and I concluded we had not yet reached the terminus. A porter came up to me as I leaned my head through the window. " Going on, miss? " he asked. "Oh, yes! " I answered, shrinking back into my corner seat. He remained upon the step, with his arm over the window-frame, while the train moved on at a slackened pace for a few minutes, and then pulled up, but at no station. Before me lay a dim, dark, indistinct scene, with little specks of light twinkling here and there in the night, but whether on sea or shore I could not tell. Immedi ately opposite the train stood the black hulls and masts and funnels of two steamers, with a glimmer of lanterns on their decks, and up and down their shrouds. The porter opened the door for me.

"You've only to go on board, miss," he said, "your luggage will be seen to all right." And he hurried away to open the doors of other carriages. I stood still, utterly bewildered, for a minute or two, with the wind tossing my hair about, and the rain beating in sharp stinging drops like hailstones upon my face and hands. It must have been close upon midnight, and there was no light but the dim, glow-worm glimmer of the lanterns on deck. Every one was hurrying past me. I began almost to repent of the desperate step I had taken ; but I had learned already that there is no possibility of retracing one's steps. At the gangways of the two vessels there were men shouting hoarsely, " This way for the Channel Islands!" "This way for Havre and Paris!" To which boat should I trust myself and my fate?

There was nothing to guide me. Yet once more that night the moment had come when I was compelled to make a prompt, decisive, urgent choice. It was almost a question of life and death to me: a leap in the dark must be taken. My great terror was lest my place of refuge should be discovered, and I be forced back again. Where was I to go — to Paris, or to the Channel Islands?

Chapter III

A ROUGH NIGHT AT SEA. A MERE accident decided it. Near the forepart of the train I saw the broad, tall figure of my new friend, the seaman, making his way across to the boat for the Channel Islands ; and almost involuntarily I made up my mind to go on board the same steamer, for I had an instinctive feeling that he would prove a real friend, if I had need of one. He did not see me following ; no doubt he supposed I had left the train at Southampton, having only taken my ticket so far ; though how I had missed Southampton I could not tell. The deck was wet and slippery, and the confusion upon it was very great. I was too much at home on a steamer to need any directions ; and I went down immediately into the ladies' cabin, which was almost empty, and chose a berth for myself in the darkest corner.

It was not far from the door, and pres ently two other ladies came down, with a gentleman and the captain, and held an anxious parley close to me. I listened absently and mechanically, as indifferent to the subject as if it could be of no consequence to me. "Is there any danger? " asked one of the ladies. " Well, I cannot say positively there will be no danger," answered the captain; "there's not danger enough to keep me and the crew in port; but it will be a very dirty night in the Channel. If there's no actual necessity for crossing to-night I should advise you to wait, and see how it will be to-morrow, Of course we shall use extra caution, and all that sort of thing. No ; I cannot say I expect any great danger." " But it will be awfully rough? " said the gentleman. The captain answered only by a sound between a groan and a whistle, as if he could not trust himself to think ol words that would describe the roughness.

There could be no doubt of his meaning. The ladies hastily determined to drive back to their hotel, and gathered up their small packages and wrappings quickly. I fancied they were re garding me somewhat curiously, but I kept my face away from them carefully. They could only see my seal-skin jacket and hat, and my rough hair; and they did not speak to me. "You are going to venture, miss? " said the captain, stepping into the cabin as they retreated up the steps. " Oh, yes," I answered. " I am obliged to go, and I am not in the least afraid." "You needn't be," he replied, in a hearty voice. "We shall do our best, for our own sakes, and you would be our first care if there was any mishap. Women and chil dren first always. I will send the stewardess to you; she goes, of course." I sat down on one of the couches, listening for a few minutes to the noises about me.

The masts were groan ing, and the planks creaking under the heavy tramp of the sailors, as they got ready to start, with shrill cries to one another. Then the steam-engine began to throb like a pulse through all the vessel from stem to stern. Presently the stewardess came down, and recommended me to lie down in my berth at once, which I did very obediently, but silently, for I did not wish to enter into conversation with the woman, who seemed inclined to be talkative. She covered me up well with several blankets, and there I lay with my face turned from the light of the swinging lamp, and scarcely moved hand or foot throughout the dismal and stormy night. For it was very stormy and dismal as soon as we were out of Southampton Water, and in the rush and swirl of the Channel. I did not fall asleep for an instant.

I do not suppose I should have slept had the Channel been, as it is sometimes, smooth as a mill-pond, and there had been no clamorous hissing and booming of waves against the frail planks, which I could touch with my hand. I could see nothing of the storm, but I could hear it ; and the boat seemed tossed like a mere cockle-shell, to and fro upon the rough sea. It did not alarm me so much as it distracted my thoughts, and kept them from dwelling upon possibilities far more perilous to me than the dan ger of death by shipwreck. A short suffering such a death would be. My hasty escape had been so unexpected, so unhoped for, that it had bewildered me, and it was almost a pleasure to lie still and listen to the din and uproar of the sea, and the swoop of the wind rushing down upon it. Was I my self or no?

Was this nothing more than a very coherent, a very vivid dream, from which I should awake by-and by to find myself a prisoner still, a creature as wretched and friendless as any that the streets of London contained? My flight had been too extraordinary a success, so far, for my mind to be able to dwell upon it calmly. I watched the dawn break through a little port-hole opening upon my berth, which had been washed and beaten by the water all the night long. The level light shone across the troubled and leaden-colored surface of the sea, which seemed to grow a little quieter under its touch. I had fancied during the night that the waves were running mountains high ; but now I could see them, they only rolled to and fro in round, swelling hillocks, dull green against the eastern sky, with deep, sullen troughs of a livid purple between.

But the fury of the storm had spent itself, that was evident, and the steamer was now steadily making way. The stewardess had gone away early in the night, being frightened to death, she said, to seek more genial com panionship than mine. So I was alone, with the blending light of the early dawn and that of the lamp burning feebly from the ceiling. I sat up in my berth and cautiously unstitched the lining in the breast of my jacket. Here, months ago, when I first began to foresee this emergency. and while I was still allowed the use of my money, I had concealed, one by one, a few five-pound notes of the Bank of England. I counted them over, eight of them ; forty pounds in all, my sole fortune, my only means of living. True, I had besides these a diamond ring, presented to me under circumstances which made it of no value to me, except for its worth in money, and a watch and chain given me years ago by my father.

A jeweller had told me that the ring was worth six pounds, and the watch and chain forty; but how difficult and dangerous it would be for me to sell either of them ! Practically rny means were limited to the eight notes of five pounds each. I kept out one for payment of my passage, then replaced the rest, and carefully pinned them into the unstitched lining. Then I began to wonder what my destination was. I knew nothing whatever of the Channel Islands, except the names which I had learned at school — Jersey, Guern sey, Alderney, and Sark. I repeated these over and over again to myself; but which of them we were bound for, or if we were about to call at each one, I did not know. I should have been more at home had I gone to Paris. As the light grew, I became restless, and at last I left my berth and ventured to climb the cabin-steps.