Chapter XIII

IN WHICH FANNY NARRATES HOW HER HUSBAND HAD A FIT, AND WHAT THE DOCTOR THOUGHT OF IT.

"Nothing more took place before we got up in the morning. Lemon torsed about as usual, and kept groaning and talking to hisself, but, excep what I've told you, I couldn't make head or tail of his mumblings. Devlin come down to breakfast, and said, as gay as gay can be,

"'I've had a lovely night.'

"'Have you?' said I. I wouldn't have spoke if I could have helped it, but he's got a way of forcing the words out of you.

"'Yes,' he answered, 'a most lovely night. I've slep the sleep of the just.' What he meant by it I don't know, but it's what he said. 'You look tired, Mrs. Lemon.'

"He grinned in my face, sir, as he made the remark, and my blood begun to boil.

"I've got enough to make me look tired,' I said. 'Lemon hasn't had a decent night's rest for months.'

"'You don't say so! But why not, why not?' asked Devlin, pitching into the ham and eggs.

"'You can answer that better than I can,' I said, jumping from the table; 'You; yes, you!'

"'Fanny!' cried Lemon.

"'I don't care,' I said, feeling reckless; I think it must have been because I was sure you'd come to my help, sir. 'I don't care. Things aren't as they should be, and it stands to reason they can't go on like this much longer.'

"'O,' said Devlin, helping hisself to the last rasher. 'It stands to reason, does it?'

"'Yes, it does,' I answered. 'I'm Lemon's wife, and if he can't take care of hisself it's my duty to do it for him.'

"'Can't you take care of yourself?' asked Devlin of my poor husband. 'That's sad, very sad!'

"'I can, I can,' cried Lemon. 'Fanny don't know what she's talking about.'

"'I thought as much,' said Devlin. 'Nerves unstrung. She wants bracing up. I must prescribe for her.'

"'Not if I know it,' I said. 'I've had enough of you and your prescribing to last me a lifetime. Don't look at me like that, or you'll drive me mad!'

"'Was there ever sech an unreasonable woman?' said Devlin, and he come and laid his hand upon me. 'Jest see how she's shaking. Lemon. She's low, very low; I really must prescribe for her. Leave her to me. I'll see that no harm comes to her.'

"What with his great staring eyes piercing me through and through, and his hand patting my shoulder, and his mocking voice, and the grin on his face, all my courage melted clean away, and I burst out crying and run into the kitchen. There I stayed till I heard the street-door slam, and then I went back to clear the breakfast-things, with a thankful heart that Devlin was gone. If he'd only have left my husband behind him I should have been satisfied, but Lemon was gone too. There was a bottle on the table with something in it, and a label on it in Devlin's writing--

"For my dear kind friend, Mrs. Lemon. A tonic for her nerves. A tablespoonful, in water, three times a day.'

"'A tablespoonful, in water, three times a day,' thinks I to myself. 'Not if I know it.'

"I was going to throw the bottle in the dusthole, but I thought I'd better not, and I put it away on the top shelf of the cupboard, right at the back. After that I went about my work, wondering how it was all going to end, and casting about in my mind whether there was anything I could do to get rid of the creature as was making our lives a misery. But I couldn't think of nothing.

"Lemon was never very fond of politics, but he likes to know what's going on, and we take in a penny weekly newspaper as gives all the news from one end of the week to the other, and how they do it for the money beats me holler. The boy brings it every Sunday morning, and it ain't once in a year that Lemon buys a daily paper. You'll see presently why I mention it.

"It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and I was setting sewing when I hears the latchkey in the street-door. Now, Saturday is always a late day with Lemon and Devlin; they don't generally come home till ten or eleven o'clock at night, and I was surprised when I heard the key in the lock. I knew it must be one or the other of 'em, because nobody but them and me has a latchkey. I set and listened, wondering whether it was Lemon and what had brought him home so early, and I made up my mind, if it _was_ him, to have a good talk with him, and try and persuade him once more to give up Devlin altogether. 'But why don't he come in?' thought I. There he was in the street, fumbling about with the key as though there was something wrong with it; and he stayed there so long that I couldn't stand it no longer, so I goes to the door and opens it myself. The minute it was open Lemon reels past me, behaving hisself as if he was mad or drunk. I picked up the latchkey which he'd dropped, and follered him into the parlour here. What made him ketch hold of me, and moan, and cry, and look round as if he'd brought a ghost in with him, and it was standing at his elber? And what made him suddingly cover his face with his hands, and after trembling like a aspen leaf, tumble down on the floor in a fit right before my very eyes? There he laid, sir, twisting and foaming, a sight I pray I may never see agin.

"I knelt down quick and undid his neck-handkercher, and tried to bring him to, but he got worse and worse, and all I could do wasn't a bit of good.

"There was nobody in the house but Lemon and me, and, almost distracted, I run like mad to the chemist's shop at the corner of the second turning to the right, who's got a son walking the horspitals, and begged him to come with me and see my poor man. He come at once, sir, and there was Lemon still on the floor in his fit. The doctor unclarsped Lemon's hands and put something in 'em, and I slipped a cold key down his back because his nose was bleeding.

"'That's a good sign,' said the doctor, as he forced Lemon's jaws apart and put a spoon between his teeth, which Lemon almost bit in two. Then he threw a jug of cold water into Lemon's face, completely satcherating him, and after that Lemon wasn't so violent; but he didn't recover his senses or open his eyes.

"'Let's git him to bed,' said the doctor.

"He helped me carry Lemon up-stairs, where we undressed him, and it wasn't before we got him between the sheets that he come to.

"'Feel better?' asked the doctor.

"But Lemon never spoke.

"'Don't leave him,' said the doctor to me, and he went back to his shop and brought a sleeping draught, which Lemon took, and soon afterwards fell asleep.

"'He won't wake,' said the doctor, 'for twelve hours at least. Is he subject to fits?'

"'No, sir,' I answered; 'this is the first he's ever had. Can you tell me what's the matter with him? He ain't been drinking, has he?'

"There's no sign of drink,' said the doctor, 'and no smell of it. _Does_ he drink?'

"'Not more than is good for him,' I said. 'I've never seen Lemon the worse for liquor.'

"'What I don't like about him,' the doctor then said, 'was the look in his eyes when he come to his senses--as if he'd had a shock. Has he taken a religious turn?'

"'No, sir.'

"'Is he sooperstitious at all?'

"'No, sir.'

"'The reason I ask, Mrs. Lemon,' said the doctor, 'is because this don't seem to me a ordinary fit. Is there any madness in your husband's family?'

"'I never heard of any,' I answered, 'and I think I should have been sure to know it if there was.'

"'Very likely,' said the doctor, 'though sometimes they keep it dark. All I can say is, there's something on Mr. Lemon's mind, or he's received a mental shock.'

"With that he went away.

"Lemon by that time was sound as a top. The doctor must have given him a strong dose to overcome him so, and it did my heart good to see him laying so peaceful. But I couldn't help thinking over what the doctor had said of him. There was either something on Lemon's mind or he'd received a mental shock. And that was said without the doctor knowing what I knew, for I'd kep my troubles to myself. I didn't as much as whisper what Lemon had said in his sleep the night before about the young girl in Victoria Park with golden hair and a bunch of white daisies in her belt, covered with blood.

"'Perhaps Lemon's been reading a story,' I thought, 'with something like that in it, and it's took hold of him.'

"There was nothing to wonder at in that. The penny newspaper we take in always has a story in it that goes on from week to week, and always ending at such a aggravating part that I can hardly wait to git the next number. I fly for it the first thing Sunday morning, before I read anything else. Lemon goes for the police-courts, and takes the story afterwards.

"My mind was running on in that way as I picked up Lemon's clothes, which the doctor and me had tore off him and throwed on the floor; and I don't mind telling you, sir, that I felt in the pockets. First, his trousers. There was nothing in 'em but a few coppers and two-and-six in silver. Then his westcoat. There was nothing in that but his silver watch and a button that had come off. Then his coat. What I found there was his handkercher, his spectacles, and a evening newspaper, I folded his clothes tidy, and come down-stairs with the paper in my hand. There must be something particular in it, thinks I, as I set down in the parlour here, and opened it in the middle, and smoothed it out. There was, sir.

"The very first words I saw, in big letters, at the top of the column was--'Dreadful and Mysterious Discovery in Victoria Park. Ruthless Murder of a Young Girl. Stabbed to the Heart! A Bunch of Blood-stained Daisies!'

"Can you imagine my feelings, sir?

"I could scarce believe my eyes. But there it was, staring me in the face, like a great bill on the walls printed in red. The ink was black, of course, but as I looked at the awful words they grew larger and larger, and their colour seemed to change to the colour of blood."