The Man with a Shadow

“Nothing – !”

“I can’t understand your complaint, of course, old fellow; but tell me one thing. Are you sufficiently compos mentis to know what to do for yourself for the best?”

“Quite, Salis, quite,” said North slowly.

“And you are ill, and are carrying out a definite line of action?”

“I am doing what is really – what is for the best.”

“And you do not need help – additional advice?”

“If I did, a letter or telegram would bring down a couple of London’s most eminent men; but they could do nothing.”

Salis sighed.

“But can I do nothing?”

“Only help me to have perfect rest and peace.”

“But about your patients? Moredock is complaining bitterly.”

“My patients must go elsewhere,” said North slowly. “I cannot see anybody.”

“Don’t think I am moved by curiosity; but are you sure that you are doing what is best for yourself?”

“Quite sure. Let me cure myself my own way, and – and – ”

“Well – what, old fellow?” said Salis, for the doctor had ceased speaking.

“Don’t take any notice of what I say at times. I’ve – I’ve been working a little too hard, and – at times – ”

“Yes, at times?”

“I feel a little delirious, and say things I should not say at other times – times I say, at other times.”

There was a singularity in his utterance, and his repetitions, which struck Salis; and these broken sentences were strange even to the verge of being terrible, coming as they did out of the darkness before him.

“Oh, yes; I understand,” he hastened to say cheerfully. “I know, old fellow. Want a wet towel about your head and rest.”

“Yes – and rest,” said North quietly.

“Rest and plenty of sleep. I set your disorder down to that,” said Salis, as a feeling of uneasiness which he could not master seemed to increase. At one moment he felt that his friend was not in a proper condition to judge what was best for him; at another he concluded that he was; and that, after all, it was a strange thing that a man could not do as he liked in his own house, even to shutting himself up in a dark room to rest his eyes.

A strange silence had fallen upon the place, and, in spite of his efforts, Salis could not bear it. A dozen subjects sprang to his lips, and he was about to utter them, but he felt that they would be inappropriate; and as North remained perfectly silent, and the uneasy feeling consequent upon sitting there in the darkness, conversing, as it were, with the invisible, increasing, Salis rose.

“Well,” he said, “I’m glad I came, old fellow. I haven’t bothered you much?”

“No.”

“And I may come again?” A pause. Then – “Yes.”

“And you’ll see me?”

“I cannot see you. I shall be glad if you’ll come. I feel safer and better when you are here.”

Salis winced a little. Then a thought struck him.

“Look here, old fellow. Come and stay with us for a change.”

North seemed to start violently, and Salis felt how grave a mistake he had made. For the moment he had forgotten everything about Leo, and he bit his lip at his folly.

“No. Go now.”

“Will you shake hands?”

“No, no,” said North passionately. “Go, man; go now. Don’t come again for some days.”

“As you will, North; only remember this – a message will fetch me at any time. You will summon me if I can be of any use?”

North seemed to utter some words of assent, and then Salis heard a faint rustling sound approaching in the darkness, which, in spite of his manhood and firmness, made the curate wince, as he felt how much he was at North’s mercy if this complaint took an unpleasant mental turn.

But the rustling was explained directly after by the click of the door-lock. Then a pale bar of light shone into the room as the opening enlarged, and as it was evidently held ready Salis passed out, the door closed sharply behind him, the lock snapped into its place, and he shuddered as he heard a low, mocking laugh, followed by the vibration of the floor as the invalid began to pace rapidly up and down.

“What ought I to do?” muttered Salis, as he stood irresolutely upon the mat, till he felt a touch upon his arm, and, turning, found that Mrs Milt had evidently been waiting for him to come out.

“Well, sir?” she whispered, as they went down.

“Well, Mrs Milt?”

“You don’t think that he is – a little – you don’t think that is coming on?”

“What, lunacy?” The housekeeper nodded. “Absurd, Mrs Milt!” cried Salis, “absurd!”

“Thank goodness, sir!”

“A little out of order and eccentric. But what made you ask that question?”

“Well, sir, it was something Mr Thompson said.”

Volume Three – Chapter Eleven.

Salis Makes a Discovery

“I cannot interfere, really, my dear Mary – I cannot interfere. Mrs Berens is a friend of yours, and one of my parishioners, but what can I do?”

“She is alone in the world, and in great trouble.”

“But here is a foolish woman; goes and listens to a plausible lawyer, and makes at his suggestion a number of investments, and then repents and comes to the parson.”