Paul Patoff

d a divan. The walls were dark, and the color of the curtains and carpet was a dark green, but two large lamps illuminated every corner of the apartment. A

ly upon sights which would astonish ordinary people. Her features were strongly marked, but gentle in expression and somewhat pale, and as she sat facing us, her large white hands were folded together on the foot of the

Mr. Griggs, who formerly knew Madame Patoff. I have h

th a ring of strength and determination in it that was very attractive. She moved to the door opposite to the one by which we had entered,

a smaller manner, slender and delicate and lovely; but Madame Patoff belonged to a very different category. She was on a grander scale, and in her dark eyes there was room for deeper feeling than in the gentle looks of her sister and niece. One could understand how in her youth she had braved the opposition of father and mother and sisters, and had married the brilliant Russian, and had followed him to the ends of the earth during ten years, through peace and through war, till he died. One could understand how some great trouble and des

rried five lamps; there were others upon the wall, high up on brackets and beyond her reach. There was no fireplace, but the air was very warm, heated, I suppose, by some concealed apparatus. The furniture consisted of deep chairs, lounges and divans of every description; three or four bookcases were filled with books, and there were many volumes piled in a disorderly fashion upon the different tables, and some lay upon the floor beside a cushioned lounge, which looked as though it were the favorite resting-place of the inmate of the apartment. At first sight it seemed to me that few precautions were observed; the nurse was seated in an outer apartment, and Madame Patoff was quite alone and free. But the room

d his anxiety, but it appeared to me very unlikely that when she failed to recognize him she should remember me. For some moments she gazed upon me, and then a slight flush rose to her pale cheeks, her fi

id Cutter, in loud, clear tones. "You ou

face had changed completely in its expression. Her teeth were closely set together, and her lip curle

ugh his round glasses he fixed his commanding glance upon her. But as he looked her eyes

aps, a strong evidence of insanity. In all my life of wandering and various experience I have chanced to be thrown into the society of but one insane person besides Madame Patoff. That was a curious case: a hardy old sea-captain, who chanced to make a fortune upon the New York stock exchange, and went stark mad a few weeks later. His madness seemed to come from elation at his success, and it was very curious to watch its progress, and very sad.

on the lounge which I have described as surrounded with books, and, ta

professor, "we

ay where you are." Cutter looked

ied, indifferently. "I think she

ile I was waiting in the study, that it would be worth while to try the effect of a remark in a tongue with which Mada

e you wished to die," I said, in a

ld not have seen this, for I was between him and her. She looked up at me, and fixed her dark eyes on mine. There was a great sadness in them,

r seeing Paul t

ad voice, that seemed to stir the

been her husband's nam

as with you to-day; yo

d she had no son, her tears rose at the mention of him. Probably for the very reason that I had not then had any experience of insane persons, the impression formed itself in my mind that this poor lady was not mad, after all. It seemed madness on my own part to doubt the evidence before me,-the evidence of attendants trained to the duty of watching lunatics, the assurances of a man who

e house; you have seen him to-day. Your son is Pa

her lips. She let the book fall from her hands u

l you I have no son." Again she laughed,-less

nt you. I will leave yo

, and I thought her eyes rested on the figure of the professor, standing at the other end of the room, a

ssian?" This time she said nothing, but her eyes remained

sane persons? To my surprise, she put out her hand and took mine, and shook it, in the most na

?" she asked

ould say more. But she laughed again,-very little this time,

r couch. She did not look up, and a moment later Cutter and I stood again in the antechamber. The professor slowly rubbed

"This has been a remarkably eventful day. She is probably very tired, and if you co

Cutter had a pass-key to the heavy door in the passage, and opened it and closed it noiselessly behind us. I felt as though I had been in a dream, as we eme

"will you tell me what she said to you, and whether she gave any signs of intelligence?" He faced

said that 'Paul' was dead. Was that he

What

laughed and answered, 'I tell you I have no son,-why do you torment me?' She said all that in Russ

utter, with a smi

im that I thought she disliked him. It might have been only my imagination. Besides, that nameless, undefined suspicion had crossed my brain that Madame Patoff was not really mad; and though her apparently meaningless words might have been interpreted to mean s

face was there when she saw her son this afternoon, so far as I can gather from Carvel's description. I wish they had waited for me. This remark about her son is very curious, too. It is more like a monomania than anything we have had yet. It is like a fixed idea in cha

it perfectly

us all with her extraordinary lack of memory, and who, nevertheless, remembers fluently the forms and expressions of one of the most complicated languages in the world. At the same time we do not think that she

n she fell at

I made a caref

n by any amount of guessing," I remarked. "Nothing but ti

the professor, impatiently. "I have a great mind to advise Carvel to

ently believes that she is recovering. I could see it in

mous nurse, too. Those people, from their constant daily experience, sometimes understand things that we specialists do not. But on the other hand, she is so

one hitherto, and that a possible clue to Madame Patoff's condition might be obtained by encouragi

of memory is wholly transitory. She recognized her son to-day, and I think she had some recognition o

, it seems to me that I ought to be informed of the circumstances which le

," said the professor, shortly, an

ging his tail. He had recognized the tread of his mistress, and a moment later Hermione entered and came towards us. Hermione did not like the professor very much, and the professor knew it; for he was a man of quick and i

arvel," said he. "He knew y

head as he laid his long muzzle upon her knee. "Poor Fang, you know your friends, don't you? Mr. Griggs, this

rested in the dog nor his collar, and, muttering something

ng to cousin Paul in her usual way, and Macaulay has got into a corner w

l me," I answered. "I have been to s

an always talk to you about it. Did pa

ing Madame Patoff in the Black Forest, and the

n to see her, Mis

or dear aunt! she used to be glad to see me. Is not it dreadfully sad? Can you imagine a man who has just seen h

ppose he does not want to make

sked Hermione, in a low voice, lea

surprised, "does anybody

dedly. "I do not believe she is a

n of Professor Cutter's reputation in those things says th

. I am sure people sometimes try to kill themselves

recognized any one

amed," suggested my

lmost foolish. But it was a woman's thought about another woman, and

ld she be

self, and if people took it for granted that I was crazy, I would let them believe it, because I should be too much

illy," I replied. "It i

nally she would go to sleep while I was reading. One day I was sitting quite quietly beside her, and she looked at me very sadly, as though she were thinking of somebody she had loved,-I cannot tell why; and without thinking I looked at her, and said, 'Dear aunt Annie, tell me, you are not really mad, are you?' Then she turned very pale and bega

me one; your father, for instance,

it happened," she answered; and then she adde

hesitation. "I do not think I shal

quickly, "I should muc

ee with you, but I should

She checked herself, and then continued in a lower voice: "It is prejudice,

that you do not li

tell me what it was, because your father does not wish me to hear it. But I should like to be sure whether you know all

about it," said

d of Fang, who never moved from her knee. There was a pause, during which we were both wondering what strange circumst

but I suppose it was something too dreadful to be told.

s persuaded that the prime cause must have been extraordinary i

. "Just think how horrible it would be if"-- She stop

e idea had pained her, whatever it might be. Presently she

aunt Annie only let us believe she was mad, because she h

replied. Hermione ros

said. "I hope we may all und

ght, Mis

, laughing. "How two years change everything! It u

ook my hand. "If you are old enough to be called Mi

an that," she sai

d learned so much that I was confused, and needed rest and leisure to reflect. That morning I had waked with a sensation of unsatisfied curiosity. All I had wanted to discover had been told me before bed-time, and mor

most indifferent man alive to let himself be put in my position, and not to feel curiosity; to be taken into a half confidence of the most intense interest, and not to desire exceedingly to be

culties at the time when she did the deed, whatever it might be. That this was a conceivable hypothesis there was no manner of doubt, only I could hardly imagine what action, apart from the poor woman's attempt at suicide, could have been so serious as to persuade her to act insanity for t

vident that the scientist and the young girl disliked each other. There was more in it than appeared upon the surface. Innocent young girls do not suddenly contract violent prejudices against elderly and inoffensive men who do not weary them or annoy them in some way; still less do men of large intellect and experience take unreason

uestion. Whether or not I was right in wishing to pursue the secret to its ultimate source and explanation, I leave you to judge. I will only say that, although I was at first impelled by what seems now a wretched and worthless curiosity, I found, as time went on, that there was such a multiplicity of interests at stake, that the complications were so singular and unexpected and the passions aroused so maste

t, and strove to become an agent for good in that strange series of events into which my poor curiosity had originally brought me. And having thus explained and expressed myself in concluding what I may regard as the first part of my story, I promise that I will not trouble you again, dear lady, with any unnecessary asseverations of my good faith, nor

view, frequently detailing conversations in which I took no part and scenes of which I had not at the tim