A Terrible Temptation (Fiscle Part 3) - Charles Reade (recommended ebook reader txt) 📗

The Days Rolled On,  And Brought No Change For The Better. Sir Charles

Continued To Brood On His One Misfortune. He Refused To Go

Out-Of-Doors,  Even Into The Garden,  Giving As His Reason That He Was

Not Fit To Be Seen. "I Don't Mind A Couple Of Women," Said He,  Gravely,

"But No Man Shall See Charles Bassett In His Present State. No.

Patience! Patience! I'll Wait Till Heaven Takes Pity On Me. After All,

It Would Be A Shame That Such A Race As Mine Should Die Out,  And These

Fine Estates Go To Blackguards,  And Poachers,  And Anonymous-Letter

Writers."

 

Lady Bassett Used To Coax Him To Walk In The Corridor; But,  Even Then,

He Ordered Mary Wells To Keep Watch And Let None Of The Servants Come

That Way. From Words He Let Fall It Seems He Thought "Childlessness"

Was Written On His Face,  And That It Had Somehow Degraded His Features.

 

Now A Wealthy And Popular Baronet Could Not Thus Immure Himself For Any

Length Of Time Without Exciting Curiosity,  And Setting All Manner Of

Rumors Afloat. Visitors Poured Into Huntercombe To Inquire.

 

Lady Bassett Excused Herself To Many,  But Some Of Her Own Sex She

Thought It Best To Encounter. This Subjected Her To The Insidious

Attacks Of Curiosity Admirably Veiled With Sympathy. The Assailants

Were Marvelously Subtle; But So Was The Devoted Wife. She Gave Kiss For

Kiss,  And Equivoque For Equivoque. She Seemed Grateful For Each Visit;

But They Got Nothing Out Of Her Except That Sir Charles's Nerves Were

Shaken By His Fall,  And That She Was Playing The Tyrant For Once,  And

Insisting On Absolute Quiet For Her Patient.

 

One Visitor She Never Refused--Mr. Angelo. He,  From The First,  Had Been

Her True Friend; Had Carried Sir Charles Away From The Enemy,  And Then

Had Dismissed The Gaping Servants. She Saw That He Had Divined Her

Calamity And She Knew From Things He Said To Her That He Would Never

Breathe A Word Out-Of-Doors. She Confided In Him. She Told Him Mr.

Bassett Was The Real Cause Of All This Misery: He Had Insulted Sir

Charles. The Nature Of This Insult She Suppressed. "And Oh,  Mr.

Angelo," Said She,  "That Man Is My Terror Night And Day! I Don't Know

What He Can Do,  But I Feel He Will Do Something If He Ever Learns My

Poor Husband's Condition."

 

"I Trust,  Lady Bassett,  You Are Convinced He Will Learn Nothing From

Me. Indeed,  I Will Tell The Ruffian Anything You Like. He Has Been

Sounding Me A Little; Called To Inquire After His Poor Cousin--The

Hypocrite!"

 

"How Good You Are! Please Tell Him Absolute Repose Is Prescribed For A

Time,  But There Is No Doubt Of Sir Charles's Ultimate Recovery."

 

Mr. Angelo Promised Heartily.

 

Mary Wells Was Not Enough; A Woman Must Have A Man To Lean On In

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Trouble,  And Lady Bassett Leaned On Mr. Angelo. She Even Obeyed Him.

One Day He Told Her That Her Own Health Would Fail If She Sat Always In

The Sick-Room; She Must Walk An Hour Every Day.

 

_"Must_ I?" Said She,  Sweetly.

 

"Yes,  Even If It Is Only In Your Own Garden."

 

From That Time She Used To Walk With Him Nearly Every Day.

 

Richard Bassett Saw This From His Tower Of Observation; Saw It,  And

Chuckled. "Aha!" Said He. "Husband Sick In Bed. Wife Walking In The

Garden With A Young Man--A Parson,  Too. He Is Dark,  She Is Fair.

Something Will Come Of This. Ha,  Ha!"

 

Lady Bassett Now Talked Of Sending To London For Advice; But Mary Wells

Dissuaded Her. "Physic Can't Cure Him. There's Only One Can Cure Him,

And That Is Yourself,  My Lady."

 

"Ah,  Would To Heaven I Could!"

 

"Try _My_ Way,  And You Will See,  My Lady."

 

"What,  _That_ Way! Oh,  No,  No!"

 

"Well,  Then,  If You Won't,  Nobody Else Can."

 

Such Speeches As These,  Often Repeated,  On The One Hand,  And Sir

Charles's Melancholy On The Other,  Drove Lady Bassett Almost Wild With

Distress And Perplexity.

 

Meanwhile Her Vague Fears Of Richard Bassett Were Being Gradually

Realized.

 

Bassett Employed Wheeler To Sound Dr. Willis As To His Patient's

Condition.

 

Dr. Willis,  True To The Honorable Traditions Of His Profession,  Would

Tell Him Nothing. But Dr. Willis Had A Wife. She Pumped Him: And

Wheeler Pumped Her.

 

By This Channel Wheeler Got A Somewhat Exaggerated Account Of Sir

Charles's State. He Carried It To Bassett,  And The Pair Put Their Heads

Together.

 

The Consultation Lasted All Night,  And Finally A Comprehensive Plan Of

Action Was Settled. Wheeler Stipulated That The Law Should Not Be

Broken In The Smallest Particular,  But Only Stretched.

 

Four Days After This Conference Mr. Bassett,  Mr. Wheeler,  And Two

Spruce Gentlemen Dressed In Black,  Sat Upon The "Heir's Tower,"

Watching Huntercombe Hall.

 

They Watched,  And Watched,  Until They Saw Mr. Angelo Make His Usual

Part 3 Chapter 16 Pg 137

Daily Call.

 

Then They Watched,  And Watched,  Until Lady Bassett And The Young

Clergyman Came Out And Strolled Together Into The Shrubbery.

 

Then The Two Gentlemen Went Down The Stairs,  And Were Hastily Conducted

By Bassett To Huntercombe Hall.

 

They Rang The Bell,  And The Taller Said,  In A Business-Like Voice,  "Dr.

Mosely,  From Dr. Willis."

 

Mary Wells Was Sent For,  And Dr. Mosely Said,  "Dr. Willis Is Unable To

Come To-Day,  And Has Sent Me."

 

Mary Wells Conducted Him To The Patient. The Other Gentleman Followed.

 

"Who Is This?" Said Mary. "I Can't Let All The World In To See Him."

 

"It Is Mr. Donkyn,  The Surgeon. Dr. Willis Wished The Patient To Be

Examined With The Stethoscope. You Can Stay Outside,  Mr. Donkyn."

 

This New Doctor Announced Himself To Sir Charles,  Felt His Pulse,  And

Entered At Once Into Conversation With Him.

 

Sir Charles Was In A Talking Mood,  And Very Soon Said One Or Two

Inconsecutive Things. Dr. Mosely Looked At Mary Wells And Said He Would

Write A Prescription.

 

As Soon As He Had Written It He Said,  Very Loud,  "Mr. Donkyn!"

 

The Door Instantly Opened,  And That Worthy Appeared On The Threshold.

 

"Oblige Me," Said The Doctor To His Confrere,  "By Seeing This

Prescription Made Up; And You Can Examine The Patient Yourself; But Do

Not Fatigue Him."

 

With This He Retired Swiftly,  And Strolled Down The Corridor,  To Wait

For His Companion.

 

He Had Not To Wait Long. Mr. Donkyn Adopted A Free And Easy Style With

Sir Charles,  And That Gentleman Marked His Sense Of The Indignity By

Turning Him Out Of The Room,  And Kicking Him Industriously Half-Way

Down The Passage.

 

Messrs. Mosely And Donkyn Retired To Highmore.

 

Bassett Was Particularly Pleased At The Baronet Having Kicked Donkyn;

So Was Wheeler; So Was Dr. Mosely. Donkyn Alone Did Not Share The

General Enthusiasm.

 

When Sir Charles Had Disposed Of Mr. Donkyn He Turned On Mary Wells,

And Rated Her Soundly For Bringing Strangers Into His Room To Gratify

Their Curiosity; And When Lady Bassett Came In He Made His Formal

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Complaint,  Concluding With A Proposal That One Of Two Persons Should

Leave Huntercombe,  Forever,  That Afternoon--Mary Wells Or Sir Charles

Bassett.

 

Mary Replied,  Not To Him,  But To Her Mistress,  "He Came From Dr.

Willis,  My Lady. It Was Dr. Mosely; And The Other Gent Was A Surgeon."

 

"Two Medical Men,  Sent By Dr. Willis?" Said Lady Bassett,  Knitting Her

Brow With Wonder And A Shade Of Doubt.

 

"A Couple Of Her Own Sweethearts,  Sent By Herself," Suggested Sir

Charles.

 

Lady Bassett Sat Down And Wrote A Hasty Letter To Dr. Willis. "Send A

Groom With It,  As Fast As He Can Ride," Said She; And She Was Much

Discomposed And Nervous And Impatient Till The Answer Came Bade.

 

Dr. Willis Came In Person. "I Sent No One To Take My Place," Said He.

"I Esteem My Patient Too Highly To Let Any Stranger Prescribe For Him

Or Even See Him--For A Few Days To Come."

 

Lady Bassett Sank Into A Chair,  And Her Eloquent Face Filled With An

Undefinable Terror.

 

Mary Wells,  Being On Her Defense,  Put In Her Word. "I Am Sure He Was A

Doctor; For He Wrote A Prescription,  And Here 'Tis."

 

Dr. Willis Examined The Prescription,  With No Friendly Eye.

 

"Acetate Of Morphia! The Very Worst Thing That Could Be Given Him. This

Is The Favorite Of The Specialists. This Fatal Drug Has Eaten Away A

Thousand Brains For One It Has Ever Benefited."

 

"Ah!" Said Lady Bassett. "'Specialists!' What Are They?"

 

"Medical Men,  Who Confine Their Practice To One Disease."

 

"Mad-Doctors,  He Means," Said The Patient,  Very Gravely.

 

Lady Bassett Turned Very Pale. "Then Those Were Mad-Doctors."

 

"Never You Mind,  Bella," Said Sir Charles. "I Kicked The Fellow

Handsomely."

 

"I Am Sorry To Hear It,  Sir Charles."

 

"Why?"

 

Dr. Willis Looked At Lady Bassett,  As Much As To Say,  "I Shall Not Give

_Him_ My Real Reason;" And Then Said,  "I Think It Very Undesirable You

Should Be Excited And Provoked,  Until Your Health Is Thoroughly

Restored."

 

Dr. Willis Wrote A Prescription,  And Retired.

Part 3 Chapter 16 Pg 139

Lady Bassett Sank Into A Chair,  And Trembled All Over. Her Divining Fit

Was On Her; She Saw The Hand Of The Enemy,  And Filled With Vague Fears.

 

Mary Wells Tried To,  Comfort Her. "I'll Take Care No More Strangers Get

In Here," Said She. "And,  My Lady,  If You Are Afraid,  Why Not Have The

Keepers,  And Two Or Three More,  To Sleep In The House? For,  As For Them

Footmen,  They Be Too Soft To Fight."

 

"I Will," Said Lady Bassett; "But I Fear It Will Be No Use. Our Enemy

Has So Many Resources Unknown To Me. How Can A Poor Woman Fight With A

Shadow,  That Comes In A Moment And Strikes;