The Stratagem and Other Stories

voice low, slow, thick, yet reiterated. Then suddenly, quite clear and loud, attempting to rise in the bed: “I smashed Magdalen into a million pieces with an axe.” After a moment's pause: “a million is not very many now-a-days." From this—which I now see to have been the speech of a sane Arthur—he dropped again into de- lirium. “A million pieces,” “a cool million,” “a million mil- lion million million million million” and so on: then abruptly: “Fanny’s dog’s dead.” I cannot explain the last sentence to my readers; I may, however, remark that it meant everything to me. I burst into tears. At that moment I caught Arthur's thought, “You ought to be busy with the note-book, not crying.” I resolutely dried my eyes, took courage, and began to write. II The doctor came in at this moment and begged me to go and rest. “You are only distressing yourself, Mrs. Blair,” he said; “and needlessly, for he is absolutely un- conscious and suffers nothing.” A pause. “My God! why do you look at me like that?” he exclaimed, frightened out of his wits. I think my face had caught something of that devil's, something of that sneer, that loathing, that mire of contempt and stark despair. I sank back into myself, ashamed already that mere knowledge—and such mean vile knowledge—should so puff one up with hideous pride. No wonder Satan fell! I began to understand all the old legends, and far more— I told Doctor Kershaw that I was carrying out Ar- thur's last wishes. He raised no further opposition; but I saw him sign to the male nurse to keep an eye on me. The sick man’s finger beckoned us. He could not speak; he traced circles on the counterpane. The doctor (with characteristic intelligence) having counted the cir- cles, nodded; and said: “Yes, it is nearly seven o’clock.