An Invisible Wound

.Translated from the Hungarian of Mauru Jokias for the Parisian.J One of the most celebrated practitioners of Pesth. Dr. K., wascalled upuii one morning, to receive at an early hour a visitor in great haste, who, while waiting in the antechamber, sent in word by the footman that delay for him was danger. He must be received irnmediately. The doctor threw on his dressinggown hastily and had his patiënt shown in. He found liinüself in the presence of a man utterly unkown to him, but who, to judge of his dress and manners, evident]}' belonged to the best society. His palé face bore traces of great physical and moral suffering. He carried his right hand in a siing, and in spite of his efforts to restrain himself from time to time a stiíied sigh escaped him. Seeing the poor man stagger the doctor invited liim to rtiC UuWil. "I am tired. I have not slept for a week. There is something the matter with my right hand - I do not know what. Is it a carbuncle ? Is it a caneer? At first the suffering was slight. but now it it a burning, horrible, continual pain, increasing in immensity day by day, I can bear it no longer. 1 jumped into my carriage and here I am. I have come to beg you to cauterize it, or to cut out the painful part, for one more hour of this dreadf ui torture would drive me to perditiou!" The doctor asked to see ie hand, which the patiënt put into his, gnashing his teeth meanwhiie frm the intensity of pain, while Jé physician ceeded to undo e bandages with every possiblp precaution. "Above L doctor, I beg of you not to atta1 an' importance to wliat you wíji ee. My complaint is so strange nat you will be surprised, but I beseech you to take no notice of that." "Where is the pain ful spot? It is surprising. 1 see nothing." "Xorl either, and yet the pain is so dreadful that I feel tempted to knock my head against the wall." The doctor took a magnifyirg glass, examined, and shook his head. "The skin is f uil of Ufe, The blood circuíales very regularly. Underneath there is neither inflammation nor cáncer. It is as liealtby as any other part of your body." "And yet it seems to me that it is ratlier more red therethan elsewhere." "Where?" The stranger took a pencil from his pocket-book and traced on his hand a circle as large as a 10-cent bit, with the remark, "Just there." The doctor looked. He began to think that his patiënt was crazy. "Kemain here," he said. "In a few days I will cure you." The doctor saw to his astonishment that his strange visilor spoke curiously. He took off his coat, turned up liis shirt sleeves and took a bistoury in his left hand. A second more and the steel would ïiovp m!i. ■., deep incisión in the flesh. tou I" cried the doctor, who was uiaiu Lliat lila l.lLU'lll. LUIOUgll UHskillfuluess, miglit open some important vein. "Since you judee the operation indispensable, so beit." He took the bistoury, and holding in tía left hand the right hand of the patiënt he begged him to turn away his ïead, some people not being able to bear the sight of their own blood. "It is unnecessary! On the contrary, it is I who wiil indicate how deep down you must cut." In fact, he watched the operation to the end with the greatest possible composure, indicating how far it was ;o go. The open hand did net even ;remble in the doctor's hand, and wlien the little piece of round flesh was cut out he heaved a deep sigh, like one who experiences a feeling of immense relief, 'The burning pain has ceased ?" "It has quite gone," said the stranger with a smile. '-The pain has entirely ceased, as if it had been taken away with the part cut out. The slight pain occasioned by the bleedng is, as comparad with the other, ike a reireshing breeze after an internal heat.' It does me really good to see my blood flow. Only let it flow, it does me so much good." The stranger looked with delight at he streaming blood. The doctor was obliged to insist upon dressing the wound. While he was binding it up the paient's face changed eompletely. The expression of pain paseed away ; hesmiled on the doctor with a look full of good humor, and there was no longer any ontraction of the features, any look of despair. He seemed to haye taken a ïew Jo.-ise of life. His brow cleaied; he colar returned to his face; his whole person underwent a visible ransformatlon. When his hand was replaced in the sling he made use of the one that remained free to shake the doctor hand warmly, saying to him with cordiality : "Accept rny most sincere thanks. You have positively cured me, The small remuneration that I offer yon is in no wise proportioned to the service you have rendered me. Buring tlie rest of my life I will try by what means I can discharge my obligation." The doctor, liowever, would not consent to accept the thousand florins placed on the table. The stranger on his side ref used to take them back ; but seeing that the doctor was beginning togrow angry, he begged that he would bestow them on some hospital and so took his leave. The doctor informed several of his colip.iuriies.of this singular case and them being able to give a plausible explanation. ïowards the end of a month Dr. K. reoeived a letter dated from his patient's residenee. He opened it. It was closely written and he saw by the signature that his patiënt had wiitten it with his own hand, from which he concluded that the pain had not returned, lor if it had he could hardly have held the pen. The letter ran asfollows: "My Deak DocTou : I do not wish that either you or medical science should be left in doubt as to the niystery of the strange disease which will soon bring me to my grave- and even elsewhere. "I am ajbout to describe to you the origin of this terrible malady. It broke out a week ago and 1 can struggle agamst it no longer. At the present moment I can only manage to trace these lines by placing on the sensitive part a piece of lig-hted tinder, to serve as a cataplasm. As long as the tinder burns I do not feel the other pain- and it is as nothing in Eomparison. "Six months ago I was still a very happy man. I lived, without care, on my incoine. I was on friendly terras with all the world, and I took pleasure in everything that can interest a man of thirty-five, I had married a year ago, married for love, a most beautif ui young girl, of cultivated mind and with the best heart in the world, who had been companion to a certain countess, my neighbor. My wife had no fortune, and the love she had for me was not only gratitude, but also the genuine affection of a child. Six months passed in such a way that the tnorrow always seemed to me happier than the eve. If sometimes I was obliged to go to Pesth and leave my home for a day my wife had not a moment's peace. Shë would come two miles on the road to meet me. If I was belated she would stay awake all night, waiting for me, and if, by dint of entreaty, she was prevailed upon to go and see her former mistress, who was still very fond of her, no power than half a day, and even then her regrets for my absence put " the others out of temper. Her fondness for me went so far as to make her give up dancing, so as not to be obliged to put her hand into a stranger's ; and nothing caused her such grave displeasure as the compliments she was apt to receive. In a word, I had for my wife an innocent child, who had no thought but for me, and who would confess her dreams to me as enormous crimes if she had not dreamt of me. 'One day I know not what demon whispered in my ear, 'Supposing all this were only disshnulation?" Men are mad enough to seek how they can torment themselves in the midst of the greatest happiness. "My wife had awork-table,the drawer of wliieh she kept carefully locked. I had noticed this several times. She never forgot the key, and never left the drawer open. "The question ran in my head, 'What can she be liiding iïom me there?' I liad taken leave of my senses. I no longer believetl either in the innocence of lier face or in tne purity of her eyes, in lier caresses or in her kisses. suppose all that were nothing bul hypocrisy? "One morning the countcss came again to fetch her, and after much entreaty succeeded in deciding her to spend the day with her. Our estates were some miles apart, aid I promised my wife to go and join her. "As soon as the carriage had left the courtyard I gathered together all the keys of the house and tried them in the lock of the little drawer. One of viiem openeü ït. 1 feit like a man committing his iirst crime. I was a thief about to surprise the secrets of a feeble woman. My hands trembled I drew froia out the drawer, prudently carefully, one by one, the objeets con tained therein, so that no confusión sliould betray that a strange hand hac ransacked them. My breast heaved ; I was wpll-mVJi tiffofjtori Hfihold suddenly, beneath a mass of lace, I had placed my hand on a packet of letters! 1 lelt es H' n ítoK f Kskt„;„„ bm passed from my head to my heart Alas ! one glance told me what these letters were! They were love-letters "The packet was tied by a pink ribbon with a silver edgc. "As I touched the ribbon the thought occurreü to me : Is tms right r Is this wor c worthy of an honest man 'i To steal the secrets of a woman ! Secrets which belong to the time when she was a young girl ! Can I ask her to rentier an account of the thoughts she had before she belonged to me. Can I be jealous of a time when she did not know me? Who could suspect her of a f'ault ? Who? I was base enough to do so, and 'the devil again whispered in my ear : 'Supposing that these letters were of a time when I had already a right to all her thoughts, a right to be jealous even of her dreams, when she was already mine ?' I untied the ribbon. Jio one saw me. There was not even a minor in the room to make me blush for myself. I opened one letter, then another, and read tliem to the end." "Ohwhat a fearful hour that was for me ! What did those letters contain ? The vilest betrayal of which a man was ever yet the victim; and they were written by one of my most intímate frienda! And in what a straiu ! what passion ! what certainty of his love being shared ! How he spoke of secrecy ! What counsels he lavished on the art of deceiving a husband ! And all these letters were of a time when I was married and perfectly happy! Shall I teil yon what I feit? Imagine the intoxication caused by adeadly poison. 1 drank deeply of this poison. I read all the letters; all. Then I ref olded them, relied the ribbon, replaced the packet, and simt the drawer "1 knew that ïf 1 did not go for her at 12 o'clock she would come back from the countess's in the evening. And so it happened. She got down hastily from the carriage and ran toward me as I stood waiting for her on the steps. She kissed me with extreme tenderness and seemed to be very glad to be with me again. 1 let r.othing be seen on my face. We talked, we supped togeather and then retired to our separate bedrooms. I did not close my eyes. Wide awake, I counted every hour. When the clock struck quarter past midnight I got upand passed into lier bedroom. ïhere was the beautiful blonde head buried in the white pillows. It is just tliat angels are depicted in the midst of white clouds. What a frightf'ul lie was this on the part of nature; vice with a face of schinnocence! My resolution was poison had eorroded my whoïiTséiul.'' "1 placed my right hand gently under her throat and strangled her.' She opened for one moment her large, dark blue eyes, looked at me with astonishnient, then closed them and died. Slie died without struggling aguinst me, as if falling asleep. She was never angry with me, not even when I killed her. One drop of blood feil from her mouth on the back of my band. You know where; Í did not perceive it until the ext day, when it had dried. We buried her without any one suspecting the truth. I lived there in complete solitude ; who was there to control my actions ? She had neither relatives nor protectors to question me on the subject and I designedly put off writing to my friends, so that" none of them could arrive in time. "On coming back from the vault I did not feelthe slightest weighton my conscience. I liad been cruel, but she deserved it. I did not hate her ; I could forget her; J hardly thought about it. Never did a man commit a murder with less remorse than I. "On my return, I found in the chateau the countess so often mentioned. My measures had been so well taken that she also arrived too late for the funeral. She seemed much agitated on seeing me. Terror, sympathy, grief -I know not what - made her speak so confusedly that I could not understand what she said to console me. "Did I ever listen to her ? What need had I of eousolation ? 1 was not soirow-stricken. Finally slie took me familiarly by the hand and said in a low voice that slie was obliged to conflde to me a secret and that slve counted on my honor as a nobleman not to abuse it. She had given my wife to keep for lier a package of letters that she could not keep herself , and she begged of me to give them back to her. While she was speaking I feit several times that I shivered from head to foot. With apparent coldness I questioned her on the contenta of these letltJÖ. Al btliB UitL:(ll Hit Isüljj uU-ted and replied with indignation. " 'Sir, your wife was more generous tlian you. "Vhen she took charge of these letters she did not ask me their contents. She even gave me her word . never to look at them, and I am con vinced that she never ever glanced at them. Her's was a noble soul, and she would nave disdained to break in secret her given word." " 'It is well,' I replied. 'How shall I recognize the package ?' " 'lt was tied by a pink ribbon with a silver edge.' " '1 will go and search for it.' "I took my wife's keys and began to searcli for the packet; although 1 knew where it was, I pretended to have some difflculty in tinding it." " 'Is it this '!' I said, handing it to the countess, '"Yes, yes! See, the knot I made is still tliere. She never touched it.' "I did not dare to lift my eyes to lier I feared lest she should read in them that I had undone it, and tliat I bad undone something else besides. I tookleave of her hastily; she got intö her carriage and drove off. Poor woman, she had her excuse. Her husband was brutal and dissipated. If 1 luid been like him 1 should have deserved a wife like her. Oh! but my wifel Her heart was innocent, her soul angelic! Sho loved her husband even in the moment when her husband killed her. 1 do not know what Idid during the first hours that followed. When I came back to the consciousness of the horrible reality I was in the vault, beside the coflin. 1 saw the lid slowly raised and the dead woman vvithin rose noiselesslv before me. I was stretched stiiï and stark, beside tlie coflin, one hand on its edge and the other beneath her head. The lips of tlie corpse were wliite; one drop of blood hung from them. She bent slowly towards me, opened her eyes as when I murdered of bïoifag'aT. haLThedrop pves sbut: qnca moro, she feil back on her cold pillow and the coffin closed over her dead body. "A short time after I was awakened by a pain as that produced by a scorpion's sting. I rushed into the open air. It was early morn. No one saw me. The drop of blood had disappeared; there was no outward sign of the pain, and yet the spot wheie the blood had fallen burned as though being eaten away by a corroding poison. The pain gave no respite and increasedevery houi I could sleep sometimes, but even then I never lost consciousness of my suffering. There was no one to whom I could make complaint. and for that matter there was no one who would have believed my story. You liave been witness to the intensity of my suffering and you know how much your operation relieved me. But as soon as the wound heals the pain comes back. It has come now for tlie third time, and I have no longer the strength to stand it. In an hour I shall be dead. One thought consoles me - as she has avenged herself on me in this world she will. perhaps, forgive me in the next. I thank you for your good offices. May God reward you for them!" A few days after the newspapers of Sz; recorded that one of our rich3st landed proprietors had blown out his brains. Some attributed the suicide to grief at his wif e's death ; others, who were better informed, to an incurable wound. Those who knew best said ie was a monomaniac, and his wound, which could not be cured, existed only n his iinagination. They have a saying out West that grasshoppers and grass widows will ump at the iirst chance. But these i Western people will say anything but heir prayers.