Part 3 (1/2)
One day the shadow of death that was stealing southward pa.s.sed over the house containing so much life, and happiness, and wealth, and beauty.
The train pa.s.sed as usual, and among the pa.s.sengers who alighted was a man who walked to the counter in a weary, uncertain manner. One or two persons were present who knew him, and upon grasping his hand they found that it was cold. This was strange, for the day was very hot. In his eyes was a look of restlessness and anxiety, but he said that he had only a pain across the forehead, and that after needed rest it would pa.s.s away. He was conducted to a room, and there he fell across the bed, quite worn out, he said. He complained of slight cramps in the legs and thought that they had been caused by climbing the stairs.
After a half-hour had pa.s.sed he rang his bell violently and sent for the resident physician. That gentleman went to see him, and after remaining a few minutes went to the office, looking anxious and pale.
He was a tall, quiet man, with white hair. He asked for Mr. Clayton, but when he was informed that that gentleman was temporarily absent he asked for Baker.
”Is your patient very ill, doctor?” inquired the cas.h.i.+er, privately and with a certain dread.
”I want Baker,” said the doctor, somewhat shortly.
”Nothing serious, I hope.”
”Send me Baker instantly.”
The physician had a secret of life and death. To treat it wisely he required confidants of courage, sagacity, patience, tact, and prompt action. There were only two to whom he should impart it,--one was the proprietor and the other the man from Georgia.
When Baker had come the physician led him up-stairs to the floor which held the patient's room, brought him to the window at the end of the corridor and turned him so that the light fell full upon his face.
”Baker, can you keep a secret?”
”Me?”
”Yes; can you keep a secret?”
”Well, let me tell you about it; I don't know; mebbe I can.”
”Have you ever seen people die?”
”Oh, yes, sir!”
”A great many in the same house?”
”Yes, sir; yes, sir.”
”Baker,” said the physician, placing his hand gently on the broad shoulder before him, and looking the man earnestly in the eyes, and speaking very impressively--”Baker, are you afraid to die?”
”Me?”
”Yes.”
”Die?”
”Yes.”
There was no expression whatever upon his patient, gentle face. He gazed past the physician through the window and made no reply.
”Are you afraid of death, Baker?”
”Who? Me?”
”Yes.”