The Jewel of Seven Stars

  Chapter V

  More Strange Instructions

  When I came from my room at half-past eleven o'clock I found all wellin the sick-room. The new nurse, prim, neat, and watchful, sat in thechair by the bedside where Nurse Kennedy had sat last night. A littleway off, between the bed and the safe, sat Dr. Winchester alert andwakeful, but looking strange and almost comic with the respirator overmouth and nose. As I stood in the doorway looking at them I heard aslight sound; turning round I saw the new detective, who nodded, heldup the finger of silence and withdrew quietly. Hitherto no one of thewatchers was overcome by sleep.

  I took a chair outside the door. As yet there was no need for me torisk coming again under the subtle influence of last night. Naturallymy thoughts went revolving round the main incidents of the last day andnight, and I found myself arriving at strange conclusions, doubts,conjectures; but I did not lose myself, as on last night, in trains ofthought. The sense of the present was ever with me, and I really feltas should a sentry on guard. Thinking is not a slow process; and whenit is earnest the time can pass quickly. It seemed a very short timeindeed till the door, usually left ajar, was pulled open and Dr.Winchester emerged, taking off his respirator as he came. His act,when he had it off, was demonstrative of his keenness. He turned upthe outside of the wrap and smelled it carefully.

  "I am going now," he said. "I shall come early in the morning; unless,of course, I am sent for before. But all seems well tonight."

  The next to appear was Sergeant Daw, who went quietly into the room andtook the seat vacated by the Doctor. I still remained outside; butevery few minutes looked into the room. This was rather a form than amatter of utility, for the room was so dark that coming even from thedimly-lighted corridor it was hard to distinguish anything.

  A little before twelve o'clock Miss Trelawny came from her room.Before coming to her father's she went into that occupied by NurseKennedy. After a couple of minutes she came out, looking, I thought, atrifle more cheerful. She had her respirator in her hand, but beforeputting it on, asked me if anything special had occurred since she hadgone to lie down. I answered in a whisper--there was no loud talkingin the house tonight--that all was safe, was well. She then put on herrespirator, and I mine; and we entered the room. The Detective and theNurse rose up, and we took their places. Sergeant Daw was the last togo out; he closed the door behind him as we had arranged.

  For a while I sat quiet, my heart beating. The place was grimly dark.The only light was a faint one from the top of the lamp which threw awhite circle on the high ceiling, except the emerald sheen of the shadeas the light took its under edges. Even the light only seemed toemphasize the blackness of the shadows. These presently began to seem,as on last night, to have a sentience of their own. I did not myselffeel in the least sleepy; and each time I went softly over to look atthe patient, which I did about every ten minutes, I could see that MissTrelawny was keenly alert. Every quarter of an hour one or other ofthe policemen looked in through the partly opened door. Each time bothMiss Trelawny and I said through our mufflers, "all right," and thedoor was closed again.

  As the time wore on, the silence and the darkness seemed to increase.The circle of light on the ceiling was still there, but it seemed lessbrilliant than at first. The green edging of the lamp-shade becamelike Maori greenstone rather than emerald. The sounds of the nightwithout the house, and the starlight spreading pale lines along theedges of the window-cases, made the pall of black within more solemnand more mysterious.

  We heard the clock in the corridor chiming the quarters with its silverbell till two o'clock; and then a strange feeling came over me. Icould see from Miss Trelawny's movement as she looked round, that shealso had some new sensation. The new detective had just looked in; wetwo were alone with the unconscious patient for another quarter of anhour.

  My heart began to beat wildly. There was a sense of fear over me. Notfor myself; my fear was impersonal. It seemed as though some newperson had entered the room, and that a strong intelligence was awakeclose to me. Something brushed against my leg. I put my hand downhastily and touched the furry coat of Silvio. With a very faintfar-away sound of a snarl he turned and scratched at me. I felt bloodon my hand. I rose gently and came over to the bedside. MissTrelawny, too, had stood up and was looking behind her, as though therewas something close to her. Her eyes were wild, and her breast rose andfell as though she were fighting for air. When I touched her she didnot seem to feel me; she worked her hands in front of her, as thoughshe was fending off something.

  There was not an instant to lose. I seized her in my arms and rushedover to the door, threw it open, and strode into the passage, callingloudly:

  "Help! Help!"

  In an instant the two Detectives, Mrs. Grant, and the Nurse appeared onthe scene. Close on their heels came several of the servants, both menand women. Immediately Mrs. Grant came near enough, I placed MissTrelawny in her arms, and rushed back into the room, turning up theelectric light as soon as I could lay my hand on it. Sergeant Daw andthe Nurse followed me.

  We were just in time. Close under the great safe, where on the twosuccessive nights he had been found, lay Mr. Trelawny with his leftarm, bare save for the bandages, stretched out. Close by his side wasa leaf-shaped Egyptian knife which had lain amongst the curios on theshelf of the broken cabinet. Its point was stuck in the parquet floor,whence had been removed the blood-stained rug.

  But there was no sign of disturbance anywhere; nor any sign of any oneor anything unusual. The Policemen and I searched the room accurately,whilst the Nurse and two of the servants lifted the wounded man back tobed; but no sign or clue could we get. Very soon Miss Trelawnyreturned to the room. She was pale but collected. When she came closeto me she said in a low voice:

  "I felt myself fainting. I did not know why; but I was afraid!"

  The only other shock I had was when Miss Trelawny cried out to me, as Iplaced my hand on the bed to lean over and look carefully at her father:

  "You are wounded. Look! look! your hand is bloody. There is blood onthe sheets!" I had, in the excitement, quite forgotten Silvio'sscratch. As I looked at it, the recollection came back to me; butbefore I could say a word Miss Trelawny had caught hold of my hand andlifted it up. When she saw the parallel lines of the cuts she cried outagain:

  "It is the same wound as Father's!" Then she laid my hand down gentlybut quickly, and said to me and to Sergeant Daw:

  "Come to my room! Silvio is there in his basket." We followed her,and found Silvio sitting in his basket awake. He was licking his paws.The Detective said:

  "He is there sure enough; but why licking his paws?"

  Margaret--Miss Trelawny--gave a moan as she bent over and took one ofthe forepaws in her hand; but the cat seemed to resent it and snarled.At that Mrs. Grant came into the room. When she saw that we werelooking at the cat she said:

  "The Nurse tells me that Silvio was asleep on Nurse Kennedy's bed eversince you went to your Father's room until a while ago. He came therejust after you had gone to master's room. Nurse says that NurseKennedy is moaning and muttering in her sleep as though she had anightmare. I think we should send for Dr. Winchester."

  "Do so at once, please!" said Miss Trelawny; and we went back to theroom.

  For a while Miss Trelawny stood looking at her father, with her browswrinkled. Then, turning to me, as though her mind were made up, shesaid:

  "Don't you think we should have a consultation on Father? Of course Ihave every confidence in Doctor Winchester; he seems an immenselyclever young man. But he is a young man; and there must be men whohave devoted themselves to this branch of science. Such a man wouldhave more knowledge and more experience; and his knowledge andexperience might help to throw light on poor Father's case. As it is,Doctor Winchester seems to be quite in the dark. Oh! I don't know whatto do. It is all so terrible!" Here she broke down a little and cried;and I tried to comfort her.

  Doctor Winchester arrived quick
ly. His first thought was for hispatient; but when he found him without further harm, he visited NurseKennedy. When he saw her, a hopeful look came into his eyes. Taking atowel, he dipped a corner of it in cold water and flicked on the face.The skin coloured, and she stirred slightly. He said to the newnurse--Sister Doris he called her:

  "She is all right. She will wake in a few hours at latest. She may bedizzy and distraught at first, or perhaps hysterical. If so, you knowhow to treat her."

  "Yes, sir!" answered Sister Doris demurely; and we went back to Mr.Trelawny's room. As soon as we had entered, Mrs. Grant and the Nursewent out so that only Doctor Winchester, Miss Trelawny, and myselfremained in the room. When the door had been closed Doctor Winchesterasked me as to what had occurred. I told him fully, giving exactlyevery detail so far as I could remember. Throughout my narrative,which did not take long, however, he kept asking me questions as to whohad been present and the order in which each one had come into theroom. He asked other things, but nothing of any importance; these wereall that took my attention, or remained in my memory. When ourconversation was finished, he said in a very decided way indeed, toMiss Trelawny:

  "I think, Miss Trelawny, that we had better have a consultation on thiscase." She answered at once, seemingly a little to his surprise:

  "I am glad you have mentioned it. I quite agree. Who would yousuggest?"

  "Have you any choice yourself?" he asked. "Any one to whom your Fatheris known? Has he ever consulted any one?"

  "Not to my knowledge. But I hope you will choose whoever you thinkwould be best. My dear Father should have all the help that can behad; and I shall be deeply obliged by your choosing. Who is the bestman in London--anywhere else--in such a case?"

  "There are several good men; but they are scattered all over the world.Somehow, the brain specialist is born, not made; though a lot of hardwork goes to the completing of him and fitting him for his work. Hecomes from no country. The most daring investigator up to the presentis Chiuni, the Japanese; but he is rather a surgical experimentalistthan a practitioner. Then there is Zammerfest of Uppsala, and Fenelonof the University of Paris, and Morfessi of Naples. These, of course,are in addition to our own men, Morrison of Aberdeen and Richardson ofBirmingham. But before them all I would put Frere of King's College.Of all that I have named he best unites theory and practice. He has nohobbies--that have been discovered at all events; and his experience isimmense. It is the regret of all of us who admire him that the nerveso firm and the hand so dexterous must yield to time. For my own partI would rather have Frere than any one living."

  "Then," said Miss Trelawny decisively, "let us have Doctor Frere--bythe way, is he 'Doctor' or 'Mister'?--as early as we can get him in themorning!"

  A weight seemed removed from him, and he spoke with greater ease andgeniality than he had yet shown:

  "He is Sir James Frere. I shall go to him myself as early as it ispossibly to see him, and shall ask him to come here at once." Thenturning to me he said:

  "You had better let me dress your hand."

  "It is nothing," I said.

  "Nevertheless it should be seen to. A scratch from any animal mightturn out dangerous; there is nothing like being safe." I submitted;forthwith he began to dress my hand. He examined with amagnifying-glass the several parallel wounds, and compared them withthe slip of blotting-paper, marked with Silvio's claws, which he tookfrom his pocket-book. He put back the paper, simply remarking:

  "It's a pity that Silvio slips in--and out--just when he shouldn't."

  The morning wore slowly on. By ten o'clock Nurse Kennedy had so farrecovered that she was able to sit up and talk intelligibly. But shewas still hazy in her thoughts; and could not remember anything thathad happened on the previous night, after her taking her place by thesick-bed. As yet she seemed neither to know nor care what had happened.

  It was nearly eleven o'clock when Doctor Winchester returned with SirJames Frere. Somehow I felt my heart sink when from the landing I sawthem in the hall below; I knew that Miss Trelawny was to have the painof telling yet another stranger of her ignorance of her father's life.

  Sir James Frere was a man who commanded attention followed by respect.He knew so thoroughly what he wanted himself, that he placed at once onone side all wishes and ideas of less definite persons. The mere flashof his piercing eyes, or the set of his resolute mouth, or the loweringof his great eyebrows, seemed to compel immediate and willing obedienceto his wishes. Somehow, when we had all been introduced and he waswell amongst us, all sense of mystery seemed to melt away. It was witha hopeful spirit that I saw him pass into the sick-room with DoctorWinchester.

  They remained in the room a long time; once they sent for the Nurse,the new one, Sister Doris, but she did not remain long. Again theyboth went into Nurse Kennedy's room. He sent out the nurse attendanton her. Doctor Winchester told me afterward that Nurse Kennedy, thoughshe was ignorant of later matters, gave full and satisfactory answersto all Doctor Frere's questions relating to her patient up to the timeshe became unconscious. Then they went to the study, where theyremained so long, and their voices raised in heated discussion seemedin such determined opposition, that I began to feel uneasy. As forMiss Trelawny, she was almost in a state of collapse from nervousnessbefore they joined us. Poor girl! she had had a sadly anxious time ofit, and her nervous strength had almost broken down.

  They came out at last, Sir James first, his grave face looking asunenlightening as that of the sphinx. Doctor Winchester followed himclosely; his face was pale, but with that kind of pallor which lookedlike a reaction. It gave me the idea that it had been red not longbefore. Sir James asked that Miss Trelawny would come into the study.He suggested that I should come also. When we had entered, Sir Jamesturned to me and said:

  "I understand from Doctor Winchester that you are a friend of MissTrelawny, and that you have already considerable knowledge of thiscase. Perhaps it will be well that you should be with us. I know youalready as a keen lawyer, Mr. Ross, though I never had the pleasure ofmeeting you. As Doctor Winchester tells me that there are some strangematters outside this case which seem to puzzle him--and others--and inwhich he thinks you may yet be specially interested, it might be aswell that you should know every phase of the case. For myself I do nottake much account of mysteries--except those of science; and as thereseems to be some idea of an attempt at assassination or robbery, all Ican say is that if assassins were at work they ought to take someelementary lessons in anatomy before their next job, for they seemthoroughly ignorant. If robbery were their purpose, they seem to haveworked with marvellous inefficiency. That, however, is not mybusiness." Here he took a big pinch of snuff, and turning to to MissTrelawny, went on: "Now as to the patient. Leaving out the cause of hisillness, all we can say at present is that he appears to be sufferingfrom a marked attack of catalepsy. At present nothing can be done,except to sustain his strength. The treatment of my friend DoctorWinchester is mainly such as I approve of; and I am confident thatshould any slight change arise he will be able to deal with itsatisfactorily. It is an interesting case--most interesting; andshould any new or abnormal development arise I shall be happy to comeat any time. There is just one thing to which I wish to call yourattention; and I put it to you, Miss Trelawny, directly, since it isyour responsibility. Doctor Winchester informs me that you are notyourself free in the matter, but are bound by an instruction given byyour Father in case just such a condition of things should arise. Iwould strongly advise that the patient be removed to another room; or,as an alternative, that those mummies and all such things should beremoved from his chamber. Why, it's enough to put any man into anabnormal condition, to have such an assemblage of horrors round him,and to breathe the atmosphere which they exhale. You have evidencealready of how such mephitic odour may act. That nurse--Kennedy, Ithink you said, Doctor--isn't yet out of her state of catalepsy; andyou, Mr. Ross, have, I am told, experienced something of the sameeffects. I know this"--here his
eyebrows came down more than ever, andhis mouth hardened--"if I were in charge here I should insist on thepatient having a different atmosphere; or I would throw up the case.Doctor Winchester already knows that I can only be again consulted onthis condition being fulfilled. But I trust that you will see yourway, as a good daughter to my mind should, to looking to your Father'shealth and sanity rather than to any whim of his--whether supported ornot by a foregoing fear, or by any number of "penny dreadful"mysteries. The day has hardly come yet, I am glad to say, when theBritish Museum and St. Thomas's Hospital have exchanged their normalfunctions. Good-day, Miss Trelawny. I earnestly hope that I may soonsee your Father restored. Remember, that should you fulfil theelementary condition which I have laid down, I am at your service dayor night. Good-morning, Mr. Ross. I hope you will be able to reportto me soon, Doctor Winchester."

  When he had gone we stood silent, till the rumble of his carriagewheels died away. The first to speak was Doctor Winchester:

  "I think it well to say that to my mind, speaking purely as aphysician, he is quite right. I feel as if I could have assaulted himwhen he made it a condition of not giving up the case; but all the samehe is right as to treatment. He does not understand that there issomething odd about this special case; and he will not realise the knotthat we are all tied up in by Mr. Trelawny's instructions. Ofcourse--" He was interrupted by Miss Trelawny:

  "Doctor Winchester, do you, too, wish to give up the case; or are youwilling to continue it under the conditions you know?"

  "Give it up! Less now than ever. Miss Trelawny, I shall never give itup, so long as life is left to him or any of us!" She said nothing,but held out her hand, which he took warmly.

  "Now," said she, "if Sir James Frere is a type of the cult ofSpecialists, I want no more of them. To start with, he does not seemto know any more than you do about my Father's condition; and if hewere a hundredth part as much interested in it as you are, he would notstand on such punctilio. Of course, I am only too anxious about mypoor Father; and if I can see a way to meet either of Sir James Frere'sconditions, I shall do so. I shall ask Mr. Marvin to come here today,and advise me as to the limit of Father's wishes. If he thinks I amfree to act in any way on my own responsibility, I shall not hesitateto do so." Then Doctor Winchester took his leave.

  Miss Trelawny sat down and wrote a letter to Mr. Marvin, telling him ofthe state of affairs, and asking him to come and see her and to bringwith him any papers which might throw any light on the subject. Shesent the letter off with a carriage to bring back the solicitor; wewaited with what patience we could for his coming.

  It is not a very long journey for oneself from Kensington PalaceGardens to Lincoln's Inn Fields; but it seemed endlessly long whenwaiting for someone else to take it. All things, however, are amenableto Time; it was less than an hour all told when Mr. Marvin was with us.

  He recognised Miss Trelawny's impatience, and when he had learnedsufficient of her father's illness, he said to her:

  "Whenever you are ready I can go with you into particulars regardingyour Father's wishes."

  "Whenever you like," she said, with an evident ignorance of hismeaning. "Why not now?" He looked at me, as to a fellow man ofbusiness, and stammered out:

  "We are not alone."

  "I have brought Mr. Ross here on purpose," she answered. "He knows somuch at present, that I want him to know more." The solicitor was alittle disconcerted, a thing which those knowing him only in courtswould hardly have believed. He answered, however, with some hesitation:

  "But, my dear young lady--Your Father's wishes!--Confidence betweenfather and child--"

  Here she interrupted him; there was a tinge of red in her pale cheeksas she did so:

  "Do you really think that applies to the present circumstances, Mr.Marvin? My Father never told me anything of his affairs; and I cannow, in this sad extremity, only learn his wishes through a gentlemanwho is a stranger to me and of whom I never even heard till I got myFather's letter, written to be shown to me only in extremity. Mr. Rossis a new friend; but he has all my confidence, and I should like him tobe present. Unless, of course," she added, "such a thing is forbiddenby my Father. Oh! forgive me, Mr. Marvin, if I seem rude; but I havebeen in such dreadful trouble and anxiety lately, that I have hardlycommand of myself." She covered her eyes with her hand for a fewseconds; we two men looked at each other and waited, trying to appearunmoved. She went on more firmly; she had recovered herself:

  "Please! please do not think I am ungrateful to you for your kindnessin coming here and so quickly. I really am grateful; and I have everyconfidence in your judgment. If you wish, or think it best, we can bealone." I stood up; but Mr. Marvin made a dissentient gesture. He wasevidently pleased with her attitude; there was geniality in his voiceand manner as he spoke:

  "Not at all! Not at all! There is no restriction on your Father'spart; and on my own I am quite willing. Indeed, all told, it may bebetter. From what you have said of Mr. Trelawny's illness, and theother--incidental--matters, it will be well in case of any graveeventuality, that it was understood from the first, that circumstanceswere ruled by your Father's own imperative instructions. For, pleaseunderstand me, his instructions are imperative--most imperative. Theyare so unyielding that he has given me a Power of Attorney, under whichI have undertaken to act, authorising me to see his written wishescarried out. Please believe me once for all, that he intended fullyeverything mentioned in that letter to you! Whilst he is alive he isto remain in his own room; and none of his property is to be removedfrom it under any circumstances whatever. He has even given aninventory of the articles which are not to be displaced."

  Miss Trelawny was silent. She looked somewhat distressed; so, thinkingthat I understood the immediate cause, I asked:

  "May we see the list?" Miss Trelawny's face at once brightened; but itfell again as the lawyer answered promptly--he was evidently preparedfor the question:

  "Not unless I am compelled to take action on the Power of Attorney. Ihave brought that instrument with me. You will recognise, Mr.Ross"--he said this with a sort of business conviction which I hadnoticed in his professional work, as he handed me the deed--"howstrongly it is worded, and how the grantor made his wishes apparent insuch a way as to leave no loophole. It is his own wording, except forcertain legal formalities; and I assure you I have seldom seen a moreiron-clad document. Even I myself have no power to make the slightestrelaxation of the instructions, without committing a distinct breach offaith. And that, I need not tell you, is impossible." He evidentlyadded the last words in order to prevent an appeal to his personalconsideration. He did not like the seeming harshness of his words,however, for he added:

  "I do hope, Miss Trelawny, that you understand that I amwilling--frankly and unequivocally willing--to do anything I can,within the limits of my power, to relieve your distress. But yourFather had, in all his doings, some purpose of his own which he did notdisclose to me. So far as I can see, there is not a word of hisinstructions that he had not thought over fully. Whatever idea he hadin his mind was the idea of a lifetime; he had studied it in everypossible phase, and was prepared to guard it at every point.

  "Now I fear I have distressed you, and I am truly sorry for it; for Isee you have much--too much--to bear already. But I have noalternative. If you want to consult me at any time about anything, Ipromise you I will come without a moment's delay, at any hour of theday or night. There is my private address," he scribbled in hispocket-book as he spoke, "and under it the address of my club, where Iam generally to be found in the evening." He tore out the paper andhanded it to her. She thanked him. He shook hands with her and withme and withdrew.

  As soon as the hall door was shut on him, Mrs. Grant tapped at the doorand came in. There was such a look of distress in her face that MissTrelawny stood up, deadly white, and asked her:

  "What is it, Mrs. Grant? What is it? Any new trouble?"

  "I grieve to say, miss, that the servants, all
but two, have givennotice and want to leave the house today. They have talked the matterover among themselves; the butler has spoken for the rest. He says ashow they are willing to forego their wages, and even to pay their legalobligations instead of notice; but that go today they must."

  "What reason do they give?"

  "None, miss. They say as how they're sorry, but that they've nothingto say. I asked Jane, the upper housemaid, miss, who is not with therest but stops on; and she tells me confidential that they've got somenotion in their silly heads that the house is haunted!"

  We ought to have laughed, but we didn't. I could not look in MissTrelawny's face and laugh. The pain and horror there showed no suddenparoxysm of fear; there was a fixed idea of which this was aconfirmation. For myself, it seemed as if my brain had found a voice.But the voice was not complete; there was some other thought, darkerand deeper, which lay behind it, whose voice had not sounded as yet.