Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 2).djvu/386

 "How to proceed?" I said to myself, as I sat amongst my bottles and drugs, tapping the table with my finger nails:—"how to proceed? I must try it upon a patient, but it is not fair or just to try experiments upon one who confides in you. Suppose my ideas are wrong—suppose it is a fallacy?"

These thoughts troubled me so that I grew feverish, and my head burned.

Jumping up from my chair, I took a clean tumbler from a shelf, half filled it from a seltzogene which stood on the table, tossed off the sparkling water, put back the tumbler and resumed my seat, feeling decidedly belter and clearer.

"How to proceed?" I said again. "I cannot, I must not try it upon a patient. It would not be just. Upon whom, then? Mary!"

"Perish the thought!" I cried dramatically. "To deceive her would be ten times worse."

"But I might tell her first. She would take it—bless her!—if I told her."

"No—no—no—no!" I cried; and then, half aloud, "If the experiment must be tried, and you have so much faith in it, try it upon yourself, like a man!"

I sprang up once more with all kinds of unpleasant notions beginning to haunt me. Suppose the dose failed—suppose it proved fatal—suppose I were suddenly called away without having time to explain to a brother medical man what I had taken.

"Why, they would bring it in suicide, and my wife would be a widow," I exclaimed with a chill of horror seeming to make my blood run sluggishly through my veins.

But this was momentary. I recovered my strength of mind directly, and, unlocking my desk, I took out a bottle containing a white powder, which I shook and held up to the light.

"I'll try one drachm first,” I said. "Too much. No: it would be absurd to trifle with it. How can I get a satisfactory result if I do not proceed boldly with my test? Am I going to play the coward after all?"

I went to the shelf where the bottles stood, and took down the one labelled Sp. Vin., having determined to combine a stimulant with the drug, which would, I knew, from former experience, dissolve in spirit, but, to my chagrin, the bottle was completely empty.

"Brandy will do," I said to myself; and, after replacing the bottle, I went out and into the dining-room to fetch one of the three from the spirit stand, but found that its contents were confined to about a wine-glassful. "That would be enough," I thought, and going back into my consulting room, I set the little decanter down, removed the stopper, and my hand trembled a little as I poured in the white powder, a mere pinch, but full of potency.

"You are a coward," I said to myself contemptuously. "You would have given that to a patient without a qualm, but you are all on the shiver because you are going to take it yourself."

And myself seemed to answer, as if I then led a dual existence.

"I am no coward," it said half aloud. "For the benefit of medical science I am going to take that drug as soon as it is dissolved; and if it destroys my life, I have died in a great cause as bravely as any soldier who ever faced the deadly breach."

As I spoke I replaced the stopper, crumpled up the paper, and threw it in the waste basket. I then shook up the brandy, which looked turbid at first, but rapidly began to clear, as I set it down, took paper and pen, and was about to write a few lines to my wife telling her what I had done, and why, lest in the case of accident I might be