March 31, 2025 • 24 mins
Tales of Terror and Mystery is a spine-tingling collection of short stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, masterfully blending suspense, horror, and the unexplained. Divided into two parts—Tales of Terror and Tales of Mystery—the book explores eerie encounters, unsettling twists, and haunting atmospheres. From psychological thrills to scientific enigmas, Doyle steps beyond his famous detective tales to deliver chilling narratives that captivate and disturb. Perfect for fans of classic gothic fiction and supernatural suspense, this collection reveals a darker, more mysterious side of Doyle’s literary genius. For more thrilling content and engaging podcasts, visit https://www.quietperiodplease.com/.
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Speaker 1 (00:01):
The Case of Lady Sannax by Arthur Conan Doyle. This
is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the
public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit
LibriVox dot org. Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur
Conan Doyle, The Case of Lady Sanax. The relations between
(00:26):
Douglas Stone and the notorious Lady Sanax were very well known,
both among the fashionable circles of which she was a
brilliant member, and the scientific bodies, which numbered him among
their most illustrious conferres. There was naturally, therefore a very
wide spread interest when it was announced one morning that
(00:47):
the lady had absolutely and forever taken the veil, and
that the world would see her no more. When at
the very tale of this rumor there came the assurance
that the celebrated operating surgeon, the Man of Steel Nerves,
had been found in the morning by his valet, seated
on one side of his bed, smiling pleasantly upon the universe,
(01:10):
with both legs jammed into one side of his breeches,
and his great brain about as valuable as a cap
full of porridge. The matter was strong enough to give
quite a little thrill of interest to folk who had
never hoped that their jaded nerves were capable of such
a sensation. Douglas Stone, in his prime was one of
(01:30):
the most remarkable men in England. Indeed, he could hardly
be said to have ever reached his prime, for he
was but nine and thirty at the time of this
little incident. Those who knew him best were aware that
famous as he was as a surgeon, he might have
succeeded with even greater rapidity in any of a dozen
lines of life. He could have cut his way to
(01:52):
fame as a soldier, struggled to it as an explorer,
bullied for it in the courts, or built it out
of stone and iron. As an engineer. He was born
to be great, for he could plan what another man
dare not do, and he could do what another man
dare not plan. In surgery. None could follow him. His nerve,
(02:14):
his judgment, his intuition were things apart. Again and again.
His knife cut away death, but grazed the very springs
of life in doing it, until his assistants were as
white as the patient. His energy, his audacity, his full
blooded self confidence does not the memory of them still
linger in the south of Marylebone Road and the north
(02:37):
of Oxford Street. His vices were as magnificent as his virtues,
and infinitely more picturesque. Large as was his income, and
it was the third largest of all professional men in London.
It was far beneath the luxury of his living. Deep
in his complex nature lay a rich vein of sensualism,
(02:58):
at the sport of which he placed all the prizes
of his life. The eye, the ear, the touch, the palate,
all were his masters. The bouquet of old vintages, the
scent of rare exotics, the curves and tints of the
daintiest potteries of Europe. It was to these that the
quick running stream of gold was transformed. And then came
(03:20):
his sudden, mad passion for Lady Sannax, when a single
interview with two challenging glances and a whispered word set
him ablaze. She was the loveliest woman in London, and
the only one to him. He was one of the
handsomest men in London, but not the only one to her.
She had a liking for new experiences and was gracious
(03:42):
to most men who wooed her. It may have been cause,
or it may have been effect, that Lord Sannax looked
fifty though he was but six and thirty. He was
a quiet, silent, neutral tinted man, This lord, with thin
lips and heavy eyelids, much given to gardening, and full
of homelike habits. He had at one time been fond
(04:03):
of acting, had even rented a theater in London, and
on its boards had first seen Miss Marian Dawson, to
whom he had offered his hand, his title and the
third of a county. Since his marriage, his early hobby
had become distasteful to him, even in private theatricals. It
was no longer possible to persuade him to exercise the
(04:25):
talent which he had often showed that he possessed. He
was happier with a spud and a watering can among
his orchids and chrysanthemums. It was quite an interesting problem.
Whether he was absolutely devoid of sense or miserably wanting
in spirit. Did he know his ladies ways and condone them,
or was he a mere blind, doting fool. It was
(04:48):
a point to be discussed over the teacups in snug
little drawing rooms, or with the aid of a cigar
in the bow windows of clubs. Bitter and plain were
the comments among men upon his condoct There was but
one who had a good word to say for him,
and he was the most silent member in the smoking room.
He had seen him break in a horse at the university,
(05:10):
and it seemed to have left an impression upon his mind.
But when Douglas Stone became the favorite, all doubts as
to Lord Sannox's knowledge or ignorance were set forever at rest.
There was no subterfuge about Stone. In his high handed,
impetuous fashion, he set all caution and discretion at defiance.
(05:30):
The scandal became notorious. A learned body intimated that his
name had been struck from the list of its vice presidents.
Two friends implored him to consider his professional credit. He
cursed them all three, and spent forty guineas on a
bangle to take with him to the lady. He was
at her house every evening, and she drove in his
(05:53):
carriage in the afternoons. There was not an attempt on
either side to conceal their relations, but there came, at
lefe last a little incident to interrupt them. It was
a dismal winter's night, very cold and gusty, with the
wind whooping in the chimneys and blustering against the window panes.
A thin spatter of rain tinkled on the glass with
(06:14):
each fresh sow of the gale, drowning for the instant
the dull gurgle and drip from the eaves. Douglas Stone
had finished his dinner and sat by his fire in
the study, a glass of rich port upon the malachite
table at his elbow. As he raised it to his lips,
he held it up against the lamp shade and watched
(06:35):
with the eye of a connoisseur the tiny scales of
bee's wing, which floated in its rich ruby depths. The
fire as it spurted up threw fitful lights upon his bald,
clear cut face, with its widely opened gray eyes, its
thick and yet firm lips, and the deep square jaw,
which had something Roman in its strength and its animalism.
(06:57):
He smiled from time to time as he nestled back
in his luxurious chair. Indeed, he had a right to
feel well pleased, for, against the advice of six colleagues,
he had performed an operation that day of which only
two cases were on record, and the result had been brilliant,
beyond all expectation. No other man in London would have
(07:19):
had the daring to plan or the skill to execute
such a heroic measure. But he had promised Lady Sannox
to see her that evening, and it was already half
past eight. His hand was outstretched to the bell to
order the carriage when he heard the dull thud of
the knocker. An instant later, there was the shuffling of
(07:40):
feet in the hall and the sharp closing of a door.
A patient to see you, sir in the consulting room,
said the butler about himself. No, sir, I think he
wants you to go out. It is too late, cried
Douglas Stone peevishly. I won't go. This is his card, sir.
(08:04):
The butler presented it upon the gold salver, which had
been given to his master by the wife of a
Prime minister. Emil Ali smyrna him. The fellow is a Turk.
I suppose yes, sir. He seems as if he came
from abroad, sir, and he's in a terrible way. Tut tut,
(08:24):
I have an engagement. I must go somewhere else, but
I'll see him. Show him in here, pim. A few
moments later, the butler swung open the door and ushered
in a small, in decrept man who walked with a
bent back and with the forward push of the face
and blink of the eyes which goes with extreme short sight.
(08:45):
His face was swarthy, and his hair and beard of
the deepest black. In one hand he held a turban
of white muslin striped with red, in the other a
small shammy leather bag. Good evening, said Douglas Stone, when
the butler had closed the door. You speak English, I presume, yes, sir.
(09:06):
I am from Asia minor, but I speak English when
I speak slow. You wanted me to go out? I understand, yes, sir.
I wanted very much that you should see my wife.
I could come in the morning, but I have an
engagement which prevents me from seeing your wife to night.
(09:26):
The Turk's answer was a singular one. He pulled the
string which closed the mouth of the chamois leather bag
and poured a flood of gold on to the table.
There are three hundred pounds there, said he, and I
suppose that it will not take you an hour. I
have a cab ready at the door. Douglas Stone glanced
(09:48):
at his watch. An hour would not make it too
late to visit lady Sannox. He had been there later,
and the fee was an extraordinarily high one. He had
been pressed by his creditors lately, and he I could
not afford to let such a chance pass. He would go.
What is the case, he asked, Oh, it is so
(10:08):
sad a one, so sad a one. You have not
perhaps heard of the daggers of the al Mohades. Never ah,
They are Eastern daggers, of a great age, and of
a singular shape, with the hilt like what you call
a stirrup. I am a curiosity dealer, you understand, and
(10:30):
that is why I have come to England from Smyrna.
But next week I go back once more. Many things
I brought with me, and I have a few things left.
But among them, to my sorrow, is one of these daggers.
You will remember that I have an appointment, sir, said
the surgeon, with some irritation. Pray, confine yourself to the
(10:53):
necessary details. You will see that it is necessary. To day.
My wife fell down in a faint in the room
in which I keep my wares. And she cut her
lower lip upon the cursed dagger of al Mohades. I see,
said Douglas Stone rising. And you wish me to dress
(11:14):
the wound? No, no, it is worse than that. What then,
these daggers are poisoned? Poisoned? Yes, and there is no
man east or west who can tell. Now what is
the poison or what the cure? But all that is
known I know, for my father was in this trade
(11:37):
before me, and we have had much to do with
these poisoned weapons. What are the symptoms? Deep sleep and
death in thirty hours? And you say there is no cure,
why then should you pay me this considerable fee. No
drug can cure, but the knife may. And how the
(12:01):
poison is slow of absorption, it remains for hours in
the wound. Washing then might cleanse it, No more than
in a snake bite. It is too subtle and too deadly.
Excision of the wound, then that is it. If it
beyond the finger, take the finger off, so said my father.
(12:25):
Always and think of where this wound is, and that
it is my wife. It is dreadful, but familiarity with
such grim matters may take the finer edge from a
man's sympathy. To douglas Stone, this was already an interesting case,
and he brushed aside as irrelevant the feeble objections of
the husband. It appears to be that or nothing, said
(12:47):
he brusquely. It is better to lose a lip than
a life. I yes, I know that you are right. Well, well,
it is kismet and it must be faced. I have
the cab, and you will come with me and do
this thing. Douglas Stone took his case of beast stories
from a drawer and placed it with a roll of
(13:09):
bandage and a compress of lint in his pocket. He
must waste no more time if he were to see
lady Sannax. I am ready, said he, pulling on his overcoat.
Will you take a glass of wine before you go
out into this cold air? His visitor shrank away with
a protesting hand upraised. You forget that I am a
(13:30):
mussulman and a true follower of the prophet, said he.
But tell me what is the bottle of green glass
which you have placed in your pocket. It is chloroform ah.
That also is forbidden to us. It is a spirit,
and we make no use of such things. What you
(13:53):
would allow your wife to go through an operation without
an anesthetic. Ah, she will feel nothing, poor soul. The
deep sleep has already come on, which is the first
working of the poison. And then I have given her
of our smyrna opium. Come sir, for already an hour
has passed. As they stepped out into the darkness, a
(14:15):
sheet of rain was driven in upon their faces, and
the hall lamp, which dangled from the arm of a
marble caryatid, went out with a fluff pim. The butler
pushed the heavy door to straining hard with his shoulder
against the wind, while the two men groped their way
towards the yellow glare, which showed where the cab was waiting.
(14:36):
An instant later, they were rattling upon their journey. Is
it far, asked Douglas Stone. Oh no, we have a
very little quiet place off the Euston road. The surgeon
pressed the spring of his repeater and listened to the
little tings which told him the hour. It was a
quarter past nine. He calculated the distances and the short
(15:01):
time which it would take him to perform so trivial
an operation. He ought to reach Lady Senek's by ten o'clock.
Through the fogged windows, he saw the blurred gas lamps
dancing past, with occasionally the broader glare of a shop front.
The rain was pelting and rattling upon the leathern top
of the carriage, and the wheels swashed as they rolled
(15:22):
through puddle and mud. Opposite to him, the white head
gear of his companion gleamed faintly through the obscurity. The
surgeon felt in his pockets and arranged his needles, his ligatures,
and his safety pins that no time might be wasted.
When they arrived, he chafed with impatience and drummed his
foot upon the floor. But the cab slowed down at
(15:45):
last and pulled up in an instant. Douglas stone was
out and the Smyrna merchant's toe was at his very heel.
You can wait, said he to the driver. It was
a mean looking house in a narrow and sordid street.
The surgeon, who knew his London well, cast a swift
glance into the shadows, but there was nothing distinctive, no shop,
(16:07):
no movement, nothing but a double line of dull, flat
faced houses, a double stretch of wet flagstone which gleamed
in the lamplight, and a double rush of water in
the gutters, which swirled and gurgled towards the sewer gratings.
The door which faced them was blotched and discolored, and
a faint light in the fan pane above it served
(16:29):
to show the dust and the grime which covered it. Above,
in one of the bedroom windows, there was a dull,
yellow glimmer. The merchant knocked loudly, and as he turned
his dark face towards the light, douglas Stone could see
that it was contracted with anxiety. A bolt was drawn,
and an elderly woman with a taper stood in the doorway,
(16:50):
shielding the thin flame with her gnarled hand. Is all well,
gasped the merchant. She is as you left her, sir.
She has not spoken. No, she is in a deep sleep.
The merchant closed the door, and douglas Stone walked down
the narrow passage, glancing about him in some surprise as
(17:12):
he did so. There was no oil cloth, no mat,
no hat rack. Deep gray dust and heavy festoons of
cobwebs met his eyes everywhere. Following the old woman up
the winding stair, his firm footfall echoed harshly through the
silent house. There was no carpet. The bedroom was on
the second landing. Douglas Stone followed the old nurse into it,
(17:36):
with the merchant at his heels. Here, at least there
was furniture and spare. The floor was littered and the
corners piled with Turkish cabinets, inlaid tables, coats of chain mail,
strange pipes, and grotesque weapons. A single small lamp stood
upon a bracket on the wall. Douglas Stone took it down, and,
(17:56):
picking his way among the lumber, walked over to a
couch in the corner, on which lay a woman dressed
in the Turkish fashion with the yazmac and veil. The
lower part of the face was exposed, and the surgeon
saw a jagged cut which zigzagged along the border of
the upper lip. You will forgive the ozmac, said the Turk.
(18:17):
You know our views about women in the east. But
the surgeon was not thinking about the ozmac. This was
no longer a woman to him, It was a case.
He stooped and examined the wound carefully. There are no
signs of irritation, said he. We might delay the operation
until local symptoms develop. The husband wrung his hands in
(18:40):
uncontrollable agitation. Oh, sir, sir, he cried, do not trifle.
You do not know. It is deadly. I know, and
I give you my assurance that an operation is absolutely necessary.
Only the knife can save her. And yet I am
(19:01):
inclined to wait, said douglas Stone. That is enough, the
turk cried angrily. Every minute is of importance, and I
cannot stand here and see my wife allowed to sink.
It only remains for me to give you my thanks
for having come, and to call in some other surgeon
before it is too late. Douglas Stone hesitated to refund
(19:25):
that hundred pounds was no pleasant matter. But of course,
if he left the case, he must return the money.
And if the Turk were right and the woman died,
his position before a coroner might be an embarrassing one.
You have had personal experience of this poison, he asked.
I have, and you assure me that an operation is needful.
(19:48):
I swear it by all that I hold sacred. The
disfigurement will be frightful. I can understand that the mouth
will not be a pretty one to kiss. Douglas Stone
turned fiercely upon the man. The speech was a brutal one.
But the Turk has his own fashion of talk and
of thought, and there was no time for wrangling. Douglas
(20:10):
Stone drew a bistery from his case, opened it and
felt the keen straight edge with his forefinger. Then he
held the lamp closer to the bed. Two dark eyes
were gazing up at him through the slit in the yeshchmech.
They were all iris, and the pupil was hardly to
be seen. You have given her a very heavy dose
of opium. Yes, she has had a good dose. He
(20:35):
glanced again at the dark eyes, which looked straight at
his own. They were dull and lustreless. But even as
he gazed, a little shifting sparkle came into them, and
the lips quivered. She is not absolutely unconscious, said he.
Would it not be well to use the knife while
it will be painless. The same thought had crossed the
(20:57):
surgeon's mind. He grasped the wounded lip with his forceps,
and with two swift cuts he took out a broad
V shaped piece. The woman sprang up on the couch
with a dreadful, gurgling scream, Her covering was torn from
her face. It was a face that he knew, in
spite of that protruding upper lip and that slobber of blood.
(21:18):
It was a face that he knew. She kept on
putting her hand up to the gap and screaming. Douglas
Stone sat down at the foot of the couch with
his knife and his forceps. The room was whirling round,
and he felt something go like a ripping seam behind
his ear. A bystander would have said that his face
(21:40):
was the more ghastly of the two, as in a dream,
or as if he had been looking at something. At
the play, he was conscious that the turk's hair and
beard lay upon the table, and that Lord Sannox was
leaning against the wall with his hand to his side,
laughing silently. The screams had died way now, and the
(22:01):
dreadful head had dropped back again upon the pillow, but
douglas Stone still sat motionless, and Lord Sannax still chuckled
quietly to himself. It was really very necessary for Marion
this operation, said he, not physically, but morally, you know, morally.
(22:22):
Douglas Stone stooped for yards and began to play with
the fringe of the coverlet his knife tinkled down upon
the ground, but he still held the forceps and something more.
I had long intended to make a little example, said
Lord Sannox, suavely. Your note of Wednesday miscarried, and I
(22:43):
have it here in my pocket book. I took some
pains in carrying out my idea. The wound, by the way,
was from nothing more dangerous than my signet ring. He
glanced keenly at his silent companion and cocked the small
revolver which he held in his coat pocket. But douglas
Stone was still picking at the Coverlet you see you
(23:04):
have kept your appointment after all, said Lord Sannox, And
at that douglas Stone began to laugh. He laughed long
and loudly. But Lord Sannox did not laugh. Now. Something
like fear sharpened and hardened his features. He walked from
the room, and he walked on tiptoe. The old woman
(23:25):
was waiting outside. Attend to your mistress when she awakes,
said Lord Sannox. Then he went down to the street.
The cab was at the door, and the driver raised
his hand to his hat. John said, Lord Sannox, you
will take the doctor home first. He will want leading downstairs,
I think tell his butler that he has been taken
(23:46):
ill at a case. Very good, sir. Then you can
take Lady Sannax home. And how about yourself, sir. Oh
my address for the next few months will be Hotel
di Roma, Venice. Just see that the letters are sent
on and tell Stevens to exhibit all the purple chrysanthemums
next Monday and to wire me the result. End of
(24:11):
the Case of Lady Senex by Arthur Conan Doyle
The Case of Lady Sannax by Arthur Conan Doyle. This
is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the
public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit
LibriVox dot org. Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur
Conan Doyle, The Case of Lady Sanax. The relations between
(00:26):
Douglas Stone and the notorious Lady Sanax were very well known,
both among the fashionable circles of which she was a
brilliant member, and the scientific bodies, which numbered him among
their most illustrious conferres. There was naturally, therefore a very
wide spread interest when it was announced one morning that
(00:47):
the lady had absolutely and forever taken the veil, and
that the world would see her no more. When at
the very tale of this rumor there came the assurance
that the celebrated operating surgeon, the Man of Steel Nerves,
had been found in the morning by his valet, seated
on one side of his bed, smiling pleasantly upon the universe,
(01:10):
with both legs jammed into one side of his breeches,
and his great brain about as valuable as a cap
full of porridge. The matter was strong enough to give
quite a little thrill of interest to folk who had
never hoped that their jaded nerves were capable of such
a sensation. Douglas Stone, in his prime was one of
(01:30):
the most remarkable men in England. Indeed, he could hardly
be said to have ever reached his prime, for he
was but nine and thirty at the time of this
little incident. Those who knew him best were aware that
famous as he was as a surgeon, he might have
succeeded with even greater rapidity in any of a dozen
lines of life. He could have cut his way to
(01:52):
fame as a soldier, struggled to it as an explorer,
bullied for it in the courts, or built it out
of stone and iron. As an engineer. He was born
to be great, for he could plan what another man
dare not do, and he could do what another man
dare not plan. In surgery. None could follow him. His nerve,
(02:14):
his judgment, his intuition were things apart. Again and again.
His knife cut away death, but grazed the very springs
of life in doing it, until his assistants were as
white as the patient. His energy, his audacity, his full
blooded self confidence does not the memory of them still
linger in the south of Marylebone Road and the north
(02:37):
of Oxford Street. His vices were as magnificent as his virtues,
and infinitely more picturesque. Large as was his income, and
it was the third largest of all professional men in London.
It was far beneath the luxury of his living. Deep
in his complex nature lay a rich vein of sensualism,
(02:58):
at the sport of which he placed all the prizes
of his life. The eye, the ear, the touch, the palate,
all were his masters. The bouquet of old vintages, the
scent of rare exotics, the curves and tints of the
daintiest potteries of Europe. It was to these that the
quick running stream of gold was transformed. And then came
(03:20):
his sudden, mad passion for Lady Sannax, when a single
interview with two challenging glances and a whispered word set
him ablaze. She was the loveliest woman in London, and
the only one to him. He was one of the
handsomest men in London, but not the only one to her.
She had a liking for new experiences and was gracious
(03:42):
to most men who wooed her. It may have been cause,
or it may have been effect, that Lord Sannax looked
fifty though he was but six and thirty. He was
a quiet, silent, neutral tinted man, This lord, with thin
lips and heavy eyelids, much given to gardening, and full
of homelike habits. He had at one time been fond
(04:03):
of acting, had even rented a theater in London, and
on its boards had first seen Miss Marian Dawson, to
whom he had offered his hand, his title and the
third of a county. Since his marriage, his early hobby
had become distasteful to him, even in private theatricals. It
was no longer possible to persuade him to exercise the
(04:25):
talent which he had often showed that he possessed. He
was happier with a spud and a watering can among
his orchids and chrysanthemums. It was quite an interesting problem.
Whether he was absolutely devoid of sense or miserably wanting
in spirit. Did he know his ladies ways and condone them,
or was he a mere blind, doting fool. It was
(04:48):
a point to be discussed over the teacups in snug
little drawing rooms, or with the aid of a cigar
in the bow windows of clubs. Bitter and plain were
the comments among men upon his condoct There was but
one who had a good word to say for him,
and he was the most silent member in the smoking room.
He had seen him break in a horse at the university,
(05:10):
and it seemed to have left an impression upon his mind.
But when Douglas Stone became the favorite, all doubts as
to Lord Sannox's knowledge or ignorance were set forever at rest.
There was no subterfuge about Stone. In his high handed,
impetuous fashion, he set all caution and discretion at defiance.
(05:30):
The scandal became notorious. A learned body intimated that his
name had been struck from the list of its vice presidents.
Two friends implored him to consider his professional credit. He
cursed them all three, and spent forty guineas on a
bangle to take with him to the lady. He was
at her house every evening, and she drove in his
(05:53):
carriage in the afternoons. There was not an attempt on
either side to conceal their relations, but there came, at
lefe last a little incident to interrupt them. It was
a dismal winter's night, very cold and gusty, with the
wind whooping in the chimneys and blustering against the window panes.
A thin spatter of rain tinkled on the glass with
(06:14):
each fresh sow of the gale, drowning for the instant
the dull gurgle and drip from the eaves. Douglas Stone
had finished his dinner and sat by his fire in
the study, a glass of rich port upon the malachite
table at his elbow. As he raised it to his lips,
he held it up against the lamp shade and watched
(06:35):
with the eye of a connoisseur the tiny scales of
bee's wing, which floated in its rich ruby depths. The
fire as it spurted up threw fitful lights upon his bald,
clear cut face, with its widely opened gray eyes, its
thick and yet firm lips, and the deep square jaw,
which had something Roman in its strength and its animalism.
(06:57):
He smiled from time to time as he nestled back
in his luxurious chair. Indeed, he had a right to
feel well pleased, for, against the advice of six colleagues,
he had performed an operation that day of which only
two cases were on record, and the result had been brilliant,
beyond all expectation. No other man in London would have
(07:19):
had the daring to plan or the skill to execute
such a heroic measure. But he had promised Lady Sannox
to see her that evening, and it was already half
past eight. His hand was outstretched to the bell to
order the carriage when he heard the dull thud of
the knocker. An instant later, there was the shuffling of
(07:40):
feet in the hall and the sharp closing of a door.
A patient to see you, sir in the consulting room,
said the butler about himself. No, sir, I think he
wants you to go out. It is too late, cried
Douglas Stone peevishly. I won't go. This is his card, sir.
(08:04):
The butler presented it upon the gold salver, which had
been given to his master by the wife of a
Prime minister. Emil Ali smyrna him. The fellow is a Turk.
I suppose yes, sir. He seems as if he came
from abroad, sir, and he's in a terrible way. Tut tut,
(08:24):
I have an engagement. I must go somewhere else, but
I'll see him. Show him in here, pim. A few
moments later, the butler swung open the door and ushered
in a small, in decrept man who walked with a
bent back and with the forward push of the face
and blink of the eyes which goes with extreme short sight.
(08:45):
His face was swarthy, and his hair and beard of
the deepest black. In one hand he held a turban
of white muslin striped with red, in the other a
small shammy leather bag. Good evening, said Douglas Stone, when
the butler had closed the door. You speak English, I presume, yes, sir.
(09:06):
I am from Asia minor, but I speak English when
I speak slow. You wanted me to go out? I understand, yes, sir.
I wanted very much that you should see my wife.
I could come in the morning, but I have an
engagement which prevents me from seeing your wife to night.
(09:26):
The Turk's answer was a singular one. He pulled the
string which closed the mouth of the chamois leather bag
and poured a flood of gold on to the table.
There are three hundred pounds there, said he, and I
suppose that it will not take you an hour. I
have a cab ready at the door. Douglas Stone glanced
(09:48):
at his watch. An hour would not make it too
late to visit lady Sannox. He had been there later,
and the fee was an extraordinarily high one. He had
been pressed by his creditors lately, and he I could
not afford to let such a chance pass. He would go.
What is the case, he asked, Oh, it is so
(10:08):
sad a one, so sad a one. You have not
perhaps heard of the daggers of the al Mohades. Never ah,
They are Eastern daggers, of a great age, and of
a singular shape, with the hilt like what you call
a stirrup. I am a curiosity dealer, you understand, and
(10:30):
that is why I have come to England from Smyrna.
But next week I go back once more. Many things
I brought with me, and I have a few things left.
But among them, to my sorrow, is one of these daggers.
You will remember that I have an appointment, sir, said
the surgeon, with some irritation. Pray, confine yourself to the
(10:53):
necessary details. You will see that it is necessary. To day.
My wife fell down in a faint in the room
in which I keep my wares. And she cut her
lower lip upon the cursed dagger of al Mohades. I see,
said Douglas Stone rising. And you wish me to dress
(11:14):
the wound? No, no, it is worse than that. What then,
these daggers are poisoned? Poisoned? Yes, and there is no
man east or west who can tell. Now what is
the poison or what the cure? But all that is
known I know, for my father was in this trade
(11:37):
before me, and we have had much to do with
these poisoned weapons. What are the symptoms? Deep sleep and
death in thirty hours? And you say there is no cure,
why then should you pay me this considerable fee. No
drug can cure, but the knife may. And how the
(12:01):
poison is slow of absorption, it remains for hours in
the wound. Washing then might cleanse it, No more than
in a snake bite. It is too subtle and too deadly.
Excision of the wound, then that is it. If it
beyond the finger, take the finger off, so said my father.
(12:25):
Always and think of where this wound is, and that
it is my wife. It is dreadful, but familiarity with
such grim matters may take the finer edge from a
man's sympathy. To douglas Stone, this was already an interesting case,
and he brushed aside as irrelevant the feeble objections of
the husband. It appears to be that or nothing, said
(12:47):
he brusquely. It is better to lose a lip than
a life. I yes, I know that you are right. Well, well,
it is kismet and it must be faced. I have
the cab, and you will come with me and do
this thing. Douglas Stone took his case of beast stories
from a drawer and placed it with a roll of
(13:09):
bandage and a compress of lint in his pocket. He
must waste no more time if he were to see
lady Sannax. I am ready, said he, pulling on his overcoat.
Will you take a glass of wine before you go
out into this cold air? His visitor shrank away with
a protesting hand upraised. You forget that I am a
(13:30):
mussulman and a true follower of the prophet, said he.
But tell me what is the bottle of green glass
which you have placed in your pocket. It is chloroform ah.
That also is forbidden to us. It is a spirit,
and we make no use of such things. What you
(13:53):
would allow your wife to go through an operation without
an anesthetic. Ah, she will feel nothing, poor soul. The
deep sleep has already come on, which is the first
working of the poison. And then I have given her
of our smyrna opium. Come sir, for already an hour
has passed. As they stepped out into the darkness, a
(14:15):
sheet of rain was driven in upon their faces, and
the hall lamp, which dangled from the arm of a
marble caryatid, went out with a fluff pim. The butler
pushed the heavy door to straining hard with his shoulder
against the wind, while the two men groped their way
towards the yellow glare, which showed where the cab was waiting.
(14:36):
An instant later, they were rattling upon their journey. Is
it far, asked Douglas Stone. Oh no, we have a
very little quiet place off the Euston road. The surgeon
pressed the spring of his repeater and listened to the
little tings which told him the hour. It was a
quarter past nine. He calculated the distances and the short
(15:01):
time which it would take him to perform so trivial
an operation. He ought to reach Lady Senek's by ten o'clock.
Through the fogged windows, he saw the blurred gas lamps
dancing past, with occasionally the broader glare of a shop front.
The rain was pelting and rattling upon the leathern top
of the carriage, and the wheels swashed as they rolled
(15:22):
through puddle and mud. Opposite to him, the white head
gear of his companion gleamed faintly through the obscurity. The
surgeon felt in his pockets and arranged his needles, his ligatures,
and his safety pins that no time might be wasted.
When they arrived, he chafed with impatience and drummed his
foot upon the floor. But the cab slowed down at
(15:45):
last and pulled up in an instant. Douglas stone was
out and the Smyrna merchant's toe was at his very heel.
You can wait, said he to the driver. It was
a mean looking house in a narrow and sordid street.
The surgeon, who knew his London well, cast a swift
glance into the shadows, but there was nothing distinctive, no shop,
(16:07):
no movement, nothing but a double line of dull, flat
faced houses, a double stretch of wet flagstone which gleamed
in the lamplight, and a double rush of water in
the gutters, which swirled and gurgled towards the sewer gratings.
The door which faced them was blotched and discolored, and
a faint light in the fan pane above it served
(16:29):
to show the dust and the grime which covered it. Above,
in one of the bedroom windows, there was a dull,
yellow glimmer. The merchant knocked loudly, and as he turned
his dark face towards the light, douglas Stone could see
that it was contracted with anxiety. A bolt was drawn,
and an elderly woman with a taper stood in the doorway,
(16:50):
shielding the thin flame with her gnarled hand. Is all well,
gasped the merchant. She is as you left her, sir.
She has not spoken. No, she is in a deep sleep.
The merchant closed the door, and douglas Stone walked down
the narrow passage, glancing about him in some surprise as
(17:12):
he did so. There was no oil cloth, no mat,
no hat rack. Deep gray dust and heavy festoons of
cobwebs met his eyes everywhere. Following the old woman up
the winding stair, his firm footfall echoed harshly through the
silent house. There was no carpet. The bedroom was on
the second landing. Douglas Stone followed the old nurse into it,
(17:36):
with the merchant at his heels. Here, at least there
was furniture and spare. The floor was littered and the
corners piled with Turkish cabinets, inlaid tables, coats of chain mail,
strange pipes, and grotesque weapons. A single small lamp stood
upon a bracket on the wall. Douglas Stone took it down, and,
(17:56):
picking his way among the lumber, walked over to a
couch in the corner, on which lay a woman dressed
in the Turkish fashion with the yazmac and veil. The
lower part of the face was exposed, and the surgeon
saw a jagged cut which zigzagged along the border of
the upper lip. You will forgive the ozmac, said the Turk.
(18:17):
You know our views about women in the east. But
the surgeon was not thinking about the ozmac. This was
no longer a woman to him, It was a case.
He stooped and examined the wound carefully. There are no
signs of irritation, said he. We might delay the operation
until local symptoms develop. The husband wrung his hands in
(18:40):
uncontrollable agitation. Oh, sir, sir, he cried, do not trifle.
You do not know. It is deadly. I know, and
I give you my assurance that an operation is absolutely necessary.
Only the knife can save her. And yet I am
(19:01):
inclined to wait, said douglas Stone. That is enough, the
turk cried angrily. Every minute is of importance, and I
cannot stand here and see my wife allowed to sink.
It only remains for me to give you my thanks
for having come, and to call in some other surgeon
before it is too late. Douglas Stone hesitated to refund
(19:25):
that hundred pounds was no pleasant matter. But of course,
if he left the case, he must return the money.
And if the Turk were right and the woman died,
his position before a coroner might be an embarrassing one.
You have had personal experience of this poison, he asked.
I have, and you assure me that an operation is needful.
(19:48):
I swear it by all that I hold sacred. The
disfigurement will be frightful. I can understand that the mouth
will not be a pretty one to kiss. Douglas Stone
turned fiercely upon the man. The speech was a brutal one.
But the Turk has his own fashion of talk and
of thought, and there was no time for wrangling. Douglas
(20:10):
Stone drew a bistery from his case, opened it and
felt the keen straight edge with his forefinger. Then he
held the lamp closer to the bed. Two dark eyes
were gazing up at him through the slit in the yeshchmech.
They were all iris, and the pupil was hardly to
be seen. You have given her a very heavy dose
of opium. Yes, she has had a good dose. He
(20:35):
glanced again at the dark eyes, which looked straight at
his own. They were dull and lustreless. But even as
he gazed, a little shifting sparkle came into them, and
the lips quivered. She is not absolutely unconscious, said he.
Would it not be well to use the knife while
it will be painless. The same thought had crossed the
(20:57):
surgeon's mind. He grasped the wounded lip with his forceps,
and with two swift cuts he took out a broad
V shaped piece. The woman sprang up on the couch
with a dreadful, gurgling scream, Her covering was torn from
her face. It was a face that he knew, in
spite of that protruding upper lip and that slobber of blood.
(21:18):
It was a face that he knew. She kept on
putting her hand up to the gap and screaming. Douglas
Stone sat down at the foot of the couch with
his knife and his forceps. The room was whirling round,
and he felt something go like a ripping seam behind
his ear. A bystander would have said that his face
(21:40):
was the more ghastly of the two, as in a dream,
or as if he had been looking at something. At
the play, he was conscious that the turk's hair and
beard lay upon the table, and that Lord Sannox was
leaning against the wall with his hand to his side,
laughing silently. The screams had died way now, and the
(22:01):
dreadful head had dropped back again upon the pillow, but
douglas Stone still sat motionless, and Lord Sannax still chuckled
quietly to himself. It was really very necessary for Marion
this operation, said he, not physically, but morally, you know, morally.
(22:22):
Douglas Stone stooped for yards and began to play with
the fringe of the coverlet his knife tinkled down upon
the ground, but he still held the forceps and something more.
I had long intended to make a little example, said
Lord Sannox, suavely. Your note of Wednesday miscarried, and I
(22:43):
have it here in my pocket book. I took some
pains in carrying out my idea. The wound, by the way,
was from nothing more dangerous than my signet ring. He
glanced keenly at his silent companion and cocked the small
revolver which he held in his coat pocket. But douglas
Stone was still picking at the Coverlet you see you
(23:04):
have kept your appointment after all, said Lord Sannox, And
at that douglas Stone began to laugh. He laughed long
and loudly. But Lord Sannox did not laugh. Now. Something
like fear sharpened and hardened his features. He walked from
the room, and he walked on tiptoe. The old woman
(23:25):
was waiting outside. Attend to your mistress when she awakes,
said Lord Sannox. Then he went down to the street.
The cab was at the door, and the driver raised
his hand to his hat. John said, Lord Sannox, you
will take the doctor home first. He will want leading downstairs,
I think tell his butler that he has been taken
(23:46):
ill at a case. Very good, sir. Then you can
take Lady Sannax home. And how about yourself, sir. Oh
my address for the next few months will be Hotel
di Roma, Venice. Just see that the letters are sent
on and tell Stevens to exhibit all the purple chrysanthemums
next Monday and to wire me the result. End of
(24:11):
the Case of Lady Senex by Arthur Conan Doyle
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