The Collected Works of Ambrose Bierce — Volume 2: In the Midst of Life: Tales of Soldiers and Civilians

by Ambrose Bierce

  III

  In extinguishing his meagre allowance of candle Mr. Jarette's object wasto preserve it against some unforeseen need. He may have thought, too,or half thought, that the darkness would be no worse at one time thananother, and if the situation became insupportable it would be better tohave a means of relief, or even release. At any rate it was wise to havea little reserve of light, even if only to enable him to look at hiswatch.

  No sooner had he blown out the candle and set it on the floor at hisside than he settled himself comfortably in the arm-chair, leaned backand closed his eyes, hoping and expecting to sleep. In this he wasdisappointed; he had never in his life felt less sleepy, and in a fewminutes he gave up the attempt. But what could he do? He could not gogroping about in absolute darkness at the risk of bruising himself--atthe risk, too, of blundering against the table and rudely disturbing thedead. We all recognize their right to lie at rest, with immunity fromall that is harsh and violent. Jarette almost succeeded in makinghimself believe that considerations of this kind restrained him fromrisking the collision and fixed him to the chair.

  While thinking of this matter he fancied that he heard a faint sound inthe direction of the table--what kind of sound he could hardly haveexplained. He did not turn his head. Why should he--in the darkness? Buthe listened--why should he not? And listening he grew giddy and graspedthe arms of the chair for support. There was a strange ringing in hisears; his head seemed bursting; his chest was oppressed by theconstriction of his clothing. He wondered why it was so, and whetherthese were symptoms of fear. Then, with a long and strong expiration,his chest appeared to collapse, and with the great gasp with which herefilled his exhausted lungs the vertigo left him and he knew that sointently had he listened that he had held his breath almost tosuffocation. The revelation was vexatious; he arose, pushed away thechair with his foot and strode to the centre of the room. But one doesnot stride far in darkness; he began to grope, and finding the wallfollowed it to an angle, turned, followed it past the two windows andthere in another corner came into violent contact with thereading-stand, overturning it. It made a clatter that startled him. Hewas annoyed. "How the devil could I have forgotten where it was?" hemuttered, and groped his way along the third wall to the fireplace. "Imust put things to rights," said he, feeling the floor for the candle.

  Having recovered that, he lighted it and instantly turned his eyes tothe table, where, naturally, nothing had undergone any change. Thereading-stand lay unobserved upon the floor: he had forgotten to "put itto rights." He looked all about the room, dispersing the deeper shadowsby movements of the candle in his hand, and crossing over to the doortested it by turning and pulling the knob with all his strength. It didnot yield and this seemed to afford him a certain satisfaction; indeed,he secured it more firmly by a bolt which he had not before observed.Returning to his chair, he looked at his watch; it was half-past nine.With a start of surprise he held the watch at his ear. It had notstopped. The candle was now visibly shorter. He again extinguished it,placing it on the floor at his side as before.

  Mr. Jarette was not at his ease; he was distinctly dissatisfied with hissurroundings, and with himself for being so. "What have I to fear?" hethought. "This is ridiculous and disgraceful; I will not be so great afool." But courage does not come of saying, "I will be courageous," norof recognizing its appropriateness to the occasion. The more Jarettecondemned himself, the more reason he gave himself for condemnation; thegreater the number of variations which he played upon the simple themeof the harmlessness of the dead, the more insupportable grew the discordof his emotions. "What!" he cried aloud in the anguish of his spirit,"what! shall I, who have not a shade of superstition in my nature--I,who have no belief in immortality--I, who know (and never more clearlythan now) that the after-life is the dream of a desire--shall I lose atonce my bet, my honor and my self-respect, perhaps my reason, becausecertain savage ancestors dwelling in caves and burrows conceived themonstrous notion that the dead walk by night?--that--" Distinctly,unmistakably, Mr. Jarette heard behind him a light, soft sound offootfalls, deliberate, regular, successively nearer!

  IV

  Just before daybreak the next morning Dr. Helberson and his youngfriend Harper were driving slowly through the streets of North Beach inthe doctor's coupe.

  "Have you still the confidence of youth in the courage or stolidity ofyour friend?" said the elder man. "Do you believe that I have lost thiswager?"

  "I _know_ you have," replied the other, with enfeebling emphasis.

  "Well, upon my soul, I hope so."

  It was spoken earnestly, almost solemnly. There was a silence for a fewmoments.

  "Harper," the doctor resumed, looking very serious in the shiftinghalf-lights that entered the carriage as they passed the street lamps,"I don't feel altogether comfortable about this business. If your friendhad not irritated me by the contemptuous manner in which he treated mydoubt of his endurance--a purely physical quality--and by the coolincivility of his suggestion that the corpse be that of a physician, Ishould not have gone on with it. If anything should happen we areruined, as I fear we deserve to be."

  "What can happen? Even if the matter should be taking a serious turn, ofwhich I am not at all afraid, Mancher has only to 'resurrect' himselfand explain matters. With a genuine 'subject' from the dissecting-room,or one of your late patients, it might be different."

  Dr. Mancher, then, had been as good as his promise; he was the "corpse."

  Dr. Helberson was silent for a long time, as the carriage, at a snail'space, crept along the same street it had traveled two or three timesalready. Presently he spoke: "Well, let us hope that Mancher, if he hashad to rise from the dead, has been discreet about it. A mistake in thatmight make matters worse instead of better."

  "Yes," said Harper, "Jarette would kill him. But, Doctor"--looking athis watch as the carriage passed a gas lamp--"it is nearly four o'clockat last."

  A moment later the two had quitted the vehicle and were walking brisklytoward the long-unoccupied house belonging to the doctor in which theyhad immured Mr. Jarette in accordance with the terms of the mad wager.As they neared it they met a man running. "Can you tell me," he cried,suddenly checking his speed, "where I can find a doctor?"

  "What's the matter?" Helberson asked, non-committal.

  "Go and see for yourself," said the man, resuming his running.

  They hastened on. Arrived at the house, they saw several personsentering in haste and excitement. In some of the dwellings near by andacross the way the chamber windows were thrown up, showing a protrusionof heads. All heads were asking questions, none heeding the questions ofthe others. A few of the windows with closed blinds were illuminated;the inmates of those rooms were dressing to come down. Exactly oppositethe door of the house that they sought a street lamp threw a yellow,insufficient light upon the scene, seeming to say that it could disclosea good deal more if it wished. Harper paused at the door and laid a handupon his companion's arm. "It is all up with us, Doctor," he said inextreme agitation, which contrasted strangely with his free-and-easywords; "the game has gone against us all. Let's not go in there; I'm forlying low."

  "I'm a physician," said Dr. Helberson, calmly; "there may be need ofone."

  They mounted the doorsteps and were about to enter. The door was open;the street lamp opposite lighted the passage into which it opened. Itwas full of men. Some had ascended the stairs at the farther end, and,denied admittance above, waited for better fortune. All were talking,none listening. Suddenly, on the upper landing there was a greatcommotion; a man had sprung out of a door and was breaking away fromthose endeavoring to detain him. Down through the mass of affrightedidlers he came, pushing them aside, flattening them against the wall onone side, or compelling them to cling to the rail on the other,clutching them by the throat, striking them savagely, thrusting themback down the stairs and walking over the fallen. His clothing was indisorder, he was without a hat. His eyes, wild and restless, had in themsomething more terrifying than his appa
rently superhuman strength. Hisface, smooth-shaven, was bloodless, his hair frost-white.

  As the crowd at the foot of the stairs, having more freedom, fell awayto let him pass Harper sprang forward. "Jarette! Jarette!" he cried.

  Dr. Helberson seized Harper by the collar and dragged him back. The manlooked into their faces without seeming to see them and sprang throughthe door, down the steps, into the street, and away. A stout policeman,who had had inferior success in conquering his way down the stairway,followed a moment later and started in pursuit, all the heads in thewindows--those of women and children now--screaming in guidance.

  The stairway being now partly cleared, most of the crowd having rusheddown to the street to observe the flight and pursuit, Dr. Helbersonmounted to the landing, followed by Harper. At a door in the upperpassage an officer denied them admittance. "We are physicians," said thedoctor, and they passed in. The room was full of men, dimly seen,crowded about a table. The newcomers edged their way forward and lookedover the shoulders of those in the front rank. Upon the table, the lowerlimbs covered with a sheet, lay the body of a man, brilliantlyilluminated by the beam of a bull's-eye lantern held by a policemanstanding at the feet. The others, excepting those near the head--theofficer himself--all were in darkness. The face of the body showedyellow, repulsive, horrible! The eyes were partly open and upturned andthe jaw fallen; traces of froth defiled the lips, the chin, the cheeks.A tall man, evidently a doctor, bent over the body with his hand thrustunder the shirt front. He withdrew it and placed two fingers in the openmouth. "This man has been about six hours dead," said he. "It is a casefor the coroner."

  He drew a card from his pocket, handed it to the officer and made hisway toward the door.

  "Clear the room--out, all!" said the officer, sharply, and the bodydisappeared as if it had been snatched away, as shifting the lantern heflashed its beam of light here and there against the faces of the crowd.The effect was amazing! The men, blinded, confused, almost terrified,made a tumultuous rush for the door, pushing, crowding, and tumblingover one another as they fled, like the hosts of Night before the shaftsof Apollo. Upon the struggling, trampling mass the officer poured hislight without pity and without cessation. Caught in the current,Helberson and Harper were swept out of the room and cascaded down thestairs into the street.

  "Good God, Doctor! did I not tell you that Jarette would kill him?" saidHarper, as soon as they were clear of the crowd.

  "I believe you did," replied the other, without apparent emotion.

  They walked on in silence, block after block. Against the graying eastthe dwellings of the hill tribes showed in silhouette. The familiar milkwagon was already astir in the streets; the baker's man would soon comeupon the scene; the newspaper carrier was abroad in the land.

  "It strikes me, youngster," said Helberson, "that you and I have beenhaving too much of the morning air lately. It is unwholesome; we need achange. What do you say to a tour in Europe?"

  "When?"

  "I'm not particular. I should suppose that four o'clock this afternoonwould be early enough."

  "I'll meet you at the boat," said Harper.

  Seven years afterward these two men sat upon a bench in Madison Square,New York, in familiar conversation. Another man, who had been observingthem for some time, himself unobserved, approached and, courteouslylifting his hat from locks as white as frost, said: "I beg your pardon,gentlemen, but when you have killed a man by coming to life, it is bestto change clothes with him, and at the first opportunity make a breakfor liberty."

  Helberson and Harper exchanged significant glances. They were obviouslyamused. The former then looked the stranger kindly in the eye andreplied:

  "That has always been my plan. I entirely agree with you as to itsadvant--"

  He stopped suddenly, rose and went white. He stared at the man,open-mouthed; he trembled visibly.

  "Ah!" said the stranger, "I see that you are indisposed, Doctor. If youcannot treat yourself Dr. Harper can do something for you, I am sure."

  "Who the devil are you?" said Harper, bluntly.

  The stranger came nearer and, bending toward them, said in a whisper: "Icall myself Jarette sometimes, but I don't mind telling you, for oldfriendship, that I am Dr. William Mancher."

  The revelation brought Harper to his feet. "Mancher!" he cried; andHelberson added: "It is true, by God!"

  "Yes," said the stranger, smiling vaguely, "it is true enough, nodoubt."

  He hesitated and seemed to be trying to recall something, then beganhumming a popular air. He had apparently forgotten their presence.

  "Look here, Mancher," said the elder of the two, "tell us just whatoccurred that night--to Jarette, you know."

  "Oh, yes, about Jarette," said the other. "It's odd I should haveneglected to tell you--I tell it so often. You see I knew, byover-hearing him talking to himself, that he was pretty badlyfrightened. So I couldn't resist the temptation to come to life and havea bit of fun out of him--I couldn't really. That was all right, thoughcertainly I did not think he would take it so seriously; I did not,truly. And afterward--well, it was a tough job changing places with him,and then--damn you! you didn't let me out!"

  Nothing could exceed the ferocity with which these last words weredelivered. Both men stepped back in alarm.

  "We?--why--why," Helberson stammered, losing his self-possessionutterly, "we had nothing to do with it."

  "Didn't I say you were Drs. Hell-born and Sharper?" inquired the man,laughing.

  "My name is Helberson, yes; and this gentleman is Mr. Harper," repliedthe former, reassured by the laugh. "But we are not physicians now; weare--well, hang it, old man, we are gamblers."

  And that was the truth.

  "A very good profession--very good, indeed; and, by the way, I hopeSharper here paid over Jarette's money like an honest stakeholder. Avery good and honorable profession," he repeated, thoughtfully, movingcarelessly away; "but I stick to the old one. I am High Supreme MedicalOfficer of the Bloomingdale Asylum; it is my duty to cure thesuperintendent."