The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 2 of 5)

Mr Naird, advancing to the bed-side, said, 'Is there any thing you wish, my good lady? Tell me if there is any thing we can do, that will procure you pleasure?'

In vain Ellis endeavoured to give him an hint, that such a question might lead her to surmise her danger: the perceptions of Elinor were too quick to allow time for retraction or after precaution: the deepest damask flushed her pallid cheeks; her eyes became wildly dazzling, and she impetuously exclaimed, 'The time, then, is come! The struggle is over! – and I shall quaff no more this "nauseous draught of life[3 - Dryden.]?"'

She clasped her hands in an extacy, and vehemently added, 'When – when – tell me if possible, to a moment! when eternal stillness may quiet this throbbing breast? – when I may bid a final, glad adieu to this detestable world, to all its servile customs, and all its despicable inhabitants? – Why do you not speak? – Be brief, be brief!'

Mr Naird, slowly approaching her, silently felt her pulse.

'Away with this burlesque dumb shew!' cried she, indignantly. 'No more of these farcical forms! Speak! When may your successor close these professional mockeries? fit only for weak patients who fear your sentence: to me, who boldly, eagerly demand it, speak reason and truth. When may I become as insensible as Harleigh? – Colder, death itself has not power to make me!'

Again he felt her pulse, and, while her eyes, with fiery impatience, called for a prompt decision, hesitatingly pronounced, that if she had any thing to settle, she could not be too expeditious.

Her countenance, her tone, her whole appearance, underwent, now, a sudden change; and she seemed as powerfully struck as if the decree which so earnestly she had sought, had been internally unexpected. She sustained herself, nevertheless, with firmness; thanked him, though in a low and husky voice, for his sincerity; and crossing her arms, and shutting her eyes, to obviate any distraction to her ideas by surrounding objects, delivered herself up to rapt meditation: becoming, in a moment, as calm, and nearly as gentle, as if a stranger by nature to violent passions, or even to strong feelings.

An impression so potent, made by the no longer doubted, and quick approximation of that Death, which, in the vigour and pride of Life, and Health, she had so passionately invoked, forcibly and fearfully affected Ellis; who uttered a secret prayer, that her own preparations for an event, which though the most indispensably common, could never cease to be the most universally tremendous of mortality, might be frequent enough, and cheerful enough, to take off horrour from its approach, without substituting presumption.

After a long pause, Elinor opened her eyes; and, in a subdued voice and manner, that seemed to stifle a struggling sigh, softly said, 'There is no time, then, it seems, to lose? My short race is already run, – yet already has been too long! O Harleigh! had I been able to touch your heart! – '

Tears gushed into her eyes: she dispersed them hastily with her fingers; and, looking around her with an air of inquietude and shame, said, with studied composure, 'You have kindly, Mr Naird, offered me your services. I thankfully accept them. Pursue and find, without delay, Mr Harleigh, repeat to him what you have just pronounced, and tell him…' She blushed deeply, sighed; checked herself, and mildly went on, 'This is no season for pride! Tell him my situation, and that I beg, I entreat, I conjure, I even implore him to let me once more – ' Again she stopt, almost choaked with repressed emotions; but presently, with a calmer accent, added, 'Say to him, he will not merely soften, but delight my last moments, in being then the sole object I shall behold, as, from the instant that I first saw him, he has been the only one who has engaged my thoughts: – the imperious, constant master of my mind!'

Mr Naird respectfully accepted the commission; demanding only, in return, that she would first permit him once more to dress her wound. This she opposed; though so faintly, that it was evident that she was more averse to being thought cowardly, or inconsistent, than to stopping the quicker progress of dissolution. When Mr Naird, therefore represented, that it was sending him upon a fruitless errand, if she meant to bleed to death in his absence, she complied. He then enjoined her to be quiet, and went forth.

With the most perfect stillness she awaited his return; neither speaking nor moving; and holding her watch in her hand, upon which she fixed her eyes without intermission; except to observe, from time to time, whether Ellis were in sight.

When he re-appeared, she changed colour, and covered her face with her hand; but, soon removing it, and shewing a steady countenance, she raised her head. When however, she perceived that he was alone; and, after looking vainly towards the door, found that no one followed, she tremulously said,

'Will he not, then, come?'

Mr Naird answered, that it had not been possible to overtake him; a note, however, had been left at his lodgings, containing an earnest request, that a daily written account of the patient, till the danger should be over, might be forwarded to Cavendish Square; where it would follow him with the utmost expedition.

Elinor now looked almost petrified.

'Danger!' she repeated: 'He knows me, then, to be in danger, – yet flies me! And for Him I have lived; – and for Him I die!'

This reflexion destroyed all her composure; and every strong passion, every turbulent emotion, resumed its empire over her mind. She commanded Mr Naird from the room, forced Golding to dress her, and ordered a chaise and four horses immediately to the door. She was desperate, she said, and careless alike of appearances and of consequences. She would seek Harleigh herself. His icy heart, with all its apathy, recoiled from the sound of her last groan; but she would not spare him that little pain, since its infliction was all that could make the end of her career less intolerable than its progress.

She was just ready, when Mrs Maple, called up by Mr Naird, to dissuade her niece from this enterprize, would have represented the impropriety of the intended measure. But Elinor protested that she had finally taken leave of all fatiguing formalities; and refused even to open the chamber-door.

She could not, however, save herself from hearing a warm debate between Mrs Maple and Mr Naird, in which the following words caught her ears: 'Shocking, Madam, or not, it is indispensable, if go she will, that you should accompany her; for the motion of a carriage in her present inflamed, yet enfeebled state, may shorten the term of your solicitude from a few days to a few hours. I am sorry to pronounce such a sentence; but as I find myself perfectly useless, I think it right to put you upon your guard, before I take my leave.'

Elinor changed colour, ceased her preparations, and sunk upon the bed. Presently, however, she arose, and commanded Golding to call Mr Naird.

'I solemnly claim from you, Mr Naird,' she cried, 'the same undisguised sincerity that you have just practised with Mrs Maple.' Then, fixing her eyes upon his face, with investigating severity, 'Tell me,' she continued, 'in one word, whether you think I have strength yet left to reach Cavendish Square?'

'If you go in a litter, Madam, and take a week to make the journey – '

'A week? – I would arrive there in a few hours! – Is that impossible?'

'To arrive? – no; to arrive is certainly – not impossible.'

'Dead, you perhaps mean? – To arrive dead is not impossible? – Speak clearly!'

'A medical man, Madam, lives in a constant round of perplexity; for either he must risk killing his patients by telling them unpleasant truths; or letting them kill themselves by nourishing false hopes.'

'Take some other time for bewailing your own difficulties, Sir! and speak to the point, without that hateful official cant.'

'Well, Madam, if nothing but rough honesty will satisfy you, bear it, at least, with fortitude. The motion of a carriage is so likely to open your wound, that, in all probability, before you could gain Cuckfield – or Reigate, at furthest, – '

He stopt. Elinor finished for him: 'I should be no more?'

He was silent.

'I thank you, Sir!' she cried, in a firm voice, though with livid cheeks. 'And pray, how long, – supposing I do just, and only, what you bid me, – how long do you think it likely I should linger?'

'O, some days, I have no doubt. Perhaps a week.'

The storm, now, again kindled in her disordered mind: 'How!' she cried, 'have I done all this – dared, risked, braved all things human, – and not human – to die, at last, a common death? – to expire, in a fruitless journey, an unacknowledged, and unoffered sacrifice? – or to lie down tamely in my bed, till I am extinct by ordinary dissolution? – '

Wringing then her hands, with mingled anguish and resentment, 'Mr Naird,' she cried, 'if you have the smallest real skill; the most trivial knowledge or experience in your profession; bind up my wound so as to give me strength to speed to him! and then, though the lamp of life should be instantly extinguished; though the same moment that bless annihilate me, I shall be content – O more than content! I shall expire with transport!'

Mr Naird making no reply, she went on yet more impetuously: 'Oh snatch me,' she cried, 'snatch me from the despicable fate that threatens me! – With energies so pure, with affections so genuine, with feelings so unadulterated, as mine, let me not be swept from the earth, with the undistinguished herd of common broken-hearted, broken-spirited, love-sick fanatics! Let me but once more join Harleigh! once more see that countenance which is life, light, and joy to my soul! hear, once more, that voice which charms all my senses, which thrills every nerve! – and then, that parting breath which rapturously utters, Harleigh, I come to die in beholding thee! shall bless you, too, as my preserver, and bid him share with you all that Elinor has to bequeath!'

She uttered this with a rapidity and agitation that nearly exhausted her remnant strength; and, tamed by feeling her dependance upon medical skill, she listened patiently to the counsels and propositions of Mr Naird; in consequence of which, an express was sent to Harleigh, explaining her situation, her inability to be removed, her request to see him, and her immediate danger, if not kept quiet both in body and mind.

This done, satisfied that Harleigh could not read such a letter without hastening back, she agreed to all the prescriptions that were proposed; and even suffered a physician to be called to the assistance of Mr Naird, in her fear lest, if Harleigh should not be found in Cavendish Square, she might expire, before the sole instant for which she desired either to live or to die, should arrive.

notes

1

Swift's Laputa.

2

During the dominion of Robespierre.

3

Dryden.