Tales of the Wonder Club Volume II Part 7

"As you like, sir," said he, complying with my request. I blotted the sheet of paper, and placed it in my pocket.

"Now, sir," said I to my father, "I have a secret to tell you. Do not faint, but be prepared for a shock."

My father looked at me in astonishment.

"Your son lives," said I.

"What do I hear?--my son--my son lives?" he exclaimed, staggering backwards. Then recovering somewhat his composure, he asked, "But how? I myself saw him laid in the ground; besides, I tell you I saw his ghost last night."

"That was nothing but a distempered dream brought on by our conversation before you retired to rest," said I. "I tell you your son lives--he is in my care. Listen; but what I am about to tell you, you must keep to yourself, otherwise it will damage my reputation. Hearing that your son had been buried, I, being a doctor and in want of a subject for dissection, employed resurrectioners or body-s.n.a.t.c.hers to procure me your son's body. They stole it from his grave and brought it to my house. When I began to dissect I found that he was not yet dead. He has been at my house ever since, still very weak from his recent illness. He has related to me his love affair, and knows of the deception that you practised upon him. He begged me to procure for him his father's consent to his marriage, otherwise, he said he might die in real earnest."

"Oh, doctor, doctor!" cried my father, "can it be true? Oh, say that you are not jesting with me. Do not trifle with the feelings of a poor man!"

"I never trifle," I replied, with dignity.

"Then it is true, doctor, really true! O G.o.d be praised," and he clasped his hands convulsively, whilst the tears ran down his cheeks.

Suddenly his ecstasy abated, and he grew serious.

"What is the matter?" I asked.

"Oh, but, doctor, if--if after all what I saw last night were not a dream--if whilst during your absence from home, my son really has died, and appeared to me last night to let me know. What proof have you that the vision of my son last night _was_ a dream?" he asked.

"What proof?" I exclaimed. "_This_ proof," I cried, throwing off my disguise and speaking in my own natural voice again. "Behold me, father, risen from the dead!"

My father's surprise, consternation and joy was beyond all description.

"What!" he cried, "and are you really Jack risen from the grave? Come, let me touch you to be sure you are no ghost.

"Ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed, hysterically. "What! Jack, my boy, I see it all. Ha! ha! ha! ha!" and he wept upon my shoulder till I thought he'd go off in a fit.

"Hush! father," I cried, "and calm yourself. My resurrection must be a secret between us two, for motives of policy. Do you understand?"

"Why a secret?" he asked.

"Never mind now; that is part of my plan. If you tell a single soul you'll spoil all, and I am a ruined man," I said.

"I understand nothing of all this, Jack," said my father, "but you may count upon my secrecy; but I say, Jack, how long must I keep the secret, for I am burning to tell everyone in the village?"

"For Heaven's sake, hold your tongue," said I, "until I give you permission to let it out, or I am ruined for life."

"Well, well, Jack, mum's the word," said my father.

I then resumed my disguise and prepared to leave the inn.

"Why, what the devil are you going to be up to now?"

"Mum's the word," said I. "You shall know all when I return. Good-bye, father," and off I started.

I busied myself a good deal about getting everything in order for the wedding, and returned to H----, where without further bother I was married at the village church.

Fearful that if I threw off my disguise before the wedding that something or other, I could not tell what or from what quarter, would mar all and prevent the marriage just at the last moment, after having been so successful up to this time, this feeling, or presentiment of harm, vague as it was, induced me to keep on my disguise all through the ceremony, but when it came to signing my name in the register, I signed my real name--"John Hearty."

This created some sensation.

The aunt wanted me to explain myself. However, we hurried back to the aunt's house, where we at once threw off my disguise, explained all, and craved pardon for the deception I had practised upon her.

At first the aunt seemed a little cold. She was hurt at the deception being carried on so long.

There was no necessity for such tricks, she said, if she had been told all at the beginning; nothing would have been known to anyone else.

"Do you think I would trust a woman's tongue?" I said. "Come, now, aunt," I said, "though I am not a doctor, I did you quite as much good as a court physician could have done you. Yes, although the medicine was only liquorice water mixed up with other harmless filth."

"In that, too, I've been imposed upon, then," murmured the aunt.

"Nevertheless, I cured you," retorted I; "you yourself admitted it, and what is more, I took no fee."

Soon, however, Molly's aunt recovered her good humour, and all pa.s.sed off with a hearty laugh.

The only difficulty now was to reconcile ourselves with Molly's father.

The comedy was nearly at an end. I donned my disguise once more, and we started off together after the wedding breakfast to our native village, and driving up to old Sykes' house, we knocked at the door.

We entered, and I introduced myself as his son-in-law. He received us well, and wished us both health and prosperity. I did not know exactly how to break the ice, so I reflected a moment.

"Mr. Sykes," said I, still in my feigned voice, "I shall expect you this evening to dine with me at six o'clock at the 'Headless Lady.' Come, I will take no refusal. If we are to be friends together, I shall expect you, if not----"

He began to make an excuse about his gouty leg, saying that he never left the house.

"Oh, nonsense," said I, "that is just the reason you never get well.

Going out now and then will do you good. I am a doctor, you know, and I advise you for your good. If you do not like to walk, make use of our coach."

He still hesitated, and at length said, "Well, the fact is, I never go to that house. The landlord and I are not friends. We have had some differences together of long standing, and----"

"Nonsense," said I, "that is no excuse at all. All men have differences now and then, but we must learn to forget and forgive."

"No," said Sykes; "he was very much in the wrong."

"Well, I've no doubt that he thinks you are in the wrong," said I. "Dine with me this evening there, and I'll undertake to make matters straight for you both. Hearty is a good and honest man, and is one of my best friends. I have known him these nineteen years. If you refuse to come, it will be an offence to me, mind that."

After a time I succeeded in softening him down a little, till I at length drew from him a reluctant consent, and, according to his word, he appeared that evening at our inn.

A grand dinner was prepared, before partaking of which I succeeded in joining the hands of the two bitter enemies.

Seeing that the hour had arrived for the divulging of the secret I explained all in a few words, threw off my disguise and craved his blessing.

Old Sykes was a crusty sort of a cove, and I expected that there would have been a scare, but we had got him into a good humour previously, and he was so much amused, in spite of himself, at the whole scheme that he wrung my hand heartily and laughed much over my odd adventures.

Dinner pa.s.sed off gaily, and I secretly put the doctor in possession of his old clothes again. I paid him the money I owed him, and for ever kept secret the name of the doctor who had brought me to life again so cleverly.