When wine failed, I tried brandy.When the other stimulants lost their influence, I doubled the dose.After an interval of suspense -- the like of which I hope to God I shall never feel again -- there came a day when the rapidity of the pulse slightly, but appreciably, diminished; and, better still, there came also a change in the beat -- an unmistakable change to steadiness and strength.Then , I knew that I had saved him; and then I own I broke down.I laid the poor fellow's wasted hand back on the bed, and burst out crying.An hysterical relief, Mr.Blake -- nothing more!
Physiology says, and says truly, that some men are born with female constitutions -- and I am one of them!'
He made that bitterly professional apology for his tears, speaking quietly and unaffectedly, as he had spoken throughout.His tone and manner, from beginning to end, showed him to be especially, almost morbidly, anxious not to set himself up as an object of interest to me.
`You may well ask, why I have wearied you with all these details?' he went on.`It is the only way I can see, Mr.Blake, of properly introducing to you what I have to say next.Now you know exactly what my position was, at the time of Mr.Candy's illness, you will the more readily understand the sore need I had of lightening the burden on my mind by giving it, at intervals, some sort of relief.I have had the presumption to occupy my leisure, for some years past, in writing a book, addressed to the members of my profession -- a book on the intricate and delicate subject of the brain and the nervous system.My work will probably never be finished;and it will certainly never be published.It has none the less been the friend of many lonely hours; and it helped me to while away the anxious time -- the time of waiting, and nothing else -- at Mr.Candy's bedside.
I told you he was delirious, I think? And I mentioned the time at which his delirium came on?'
`Yes.'
`Well, I had reached a section of my book, at that time, which touched on this same question of delirium.I won't trouble you at any length with my theory on the subject -- I will confine myself to telling you only what it is your present interest to know.It has often occurred to me in the course of my medical practice, to doubt whether we can justifiably infer -- in cases of delirium -- that the loss of the faculty of speaking connectedly, implies of necessity the loss of the faculty of thinking connectedly as well.Poor Mr.Candy's illness gave me an opportunity of putting this doubt to the test.I understand the art of writing in shorthand; and I was able to take down the patient's "wanderings," exactly as they fell from his lips.-- Do you see, Mr.Blake, what I am coming to at last?'
I saw it clearly, and waited with breathless interest to hear more.
`At odds and ends of time,' Ezra Jennings went on, `I reproduced my shorthand notes, in the ordinary form of writing -- leaving large spaces between the broken phrases, and even the single words, as they had fallen disconnectedly from Mr.Candy's lips.I then treated the result thus obtained, on something like the principle which one adopts in putting together a child's "puzzle." It is all confusion to begin with; but it may be all brought into order and shape, if you can only find the right way.Acting on this plan, I filled in each blank space on the paper, with what the words or phrases on either side of it suggested to me as the speaker's meaning; altering over and over again, until my additions followed naturally on the spoken words which came before them, and fitted naturally into the spoken words which came after them.The result was, that I not only occupied in this way many vacant and anxious hours, but that I arrived at something which was (as it seemed to me) a confirmation of the theory that I held.
In plainer words, after putting the broken sentences together I found the superior faculty of thinking going on, more or less connectedly, in my patient's mind, while the inferior faculty of expression was in a state of almost complete incapacity and confusion.'
`One word!' I interposed eagerly.`Did my name occur in any of his wanderings?'
`You shall hear, Mr.Blake.Among my written proofs of the assertion which I have just advanced -- or, I ought to say, among the written experiments, tending to put my assertion to the proof -- there is one, in which your name occurs.For nearly the whole of one night Mr.Candy's mind was occupied with something between himself and you.I have got the broken words, as they dropped from his lips, on one sheet of paper.And I have got the links of my own discovering which connect those words together, on another sheet of paper.The product (as the arithmeticians would say)is an intelligible statement -- first, of something actually done in the past; secondly, of something which Mr.Candy contemplated doing in the future, if his illness had not got in the way, and stopped him.The question is whether this does, or does not, represent the lost recollection which he vainly attempted to find when you called on him this morning?'
`Not a doubt of it!' I answered.`Let us go back directly, and look at the papers!'
`Quite impossible, Mr.Blake.'
`Why?'
`Put yourself in my position for a moment,' said Ezra Jennings.`Would you disclose to another person what had dropped unconsciously from the lips of your suffering patient and your helpless friend, without first knowing that there was a necessity to justify you in opening your lips?'
I felt that he was unanswerable, here; but I tried to argue the question, nevertheless.
`My conduct in such a delicate matter as you describe,' I replied, `would depend greatly on whether the disclosure was of a nature to compromise my friend or not.'
`I have disposed of all necessity for considering that side of the question, long since,' said Ezra Jennings.`Wherever my notes include anything which Mr.Candy might have wished to keep secret, those notes have been destroyed.
