Unto the Third and Fourth Generation.[1]
By Hall Caine,
Author of "The Manxman," "The Deemster," "The Scapegoat," etc.
SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS ALREADY PUBLISHED.
Harcourt, who tells the story, is a young London lawyer, into whose life a terrible thing has come. He is engaged to Lucy Clousedale, a Cumberland girl who has beauty and wealth; and the day of their marriage is approaching when he is horrified to learn that his fiancée has become a helpless victim of violent dipsomania. Her ailment recurs in periodical attacks, and is inherited from her father and her grandfather. The latter, "old Geordie" Clousedale, the founder of the family's fortune, had—according to the local tradition of Lucy's northern home—overreached a miner who had discovered a new and valuable deposit of ore in the Cumberland hills. The mine, called “Owd Boney"—the "old bone of contention"—added to George Clousedale's wealth, but the mother of the defrauded man laid a curse upon its owner, who died a drunkard's death within a year. His son followed in his footsteps, and now the same fearful craving has attacked Lucy.
Harcourt, who loves her deeply, is in despair. His friend Sir George Chute, who first introduced him to Lucy, now advises him to abandon her, and to telegraph to his father, Sir Robert Harcourt, an Indian judge, not to carry out his announced intention of coming home to his son's wedding. In his doubt and hesitation the young lawyer chances to encounter Dr. La Mothe, a French hypnotist, who tells him that the crave for drink may be cured by putting the patient into a mesmeric slumber. Harcourt determines to try the experiment, and arranges with Mrs. Hill, Lucy's guardian, that he shall be summoned to Cumberland at the first sign of the return of the malady.
V.
A letter came from the Scots minister. By the grace of God Lucy was better. Her ardent philanthropy had begun again. She was organizing Bands of Hope among the children. The power of the Lord was strong above all other powers, and our dear victim was to be saved.
I was relieved, but I was also distressed. The pathos of Lucy's repentance touched me deeply, but if the world knew the truth, how it would shout itself hoarse at what it must call her hypocrisy!
My time was not yet, but it came only too soon, only too surely. A fortnight later I heard from Mrs.Hill. Lucy was betraying symptoms of another attack. The twitching of her mouth, the restlessness of her hands, the keen and feverish look of her eyes, these were unmistakable indications.
“They began,” said the nurse, “after service last Sunday morning. She took the communion. Merciful Father! What am I saying? And yet it is the truth, and I must not conceal it.”
I had told Mrs. Hill that I had engaged a doctor who was a specialist in nervous ailments, and that I wished for due warning of the return of an attack. Her letter was intended to ask for the specialist, and I summoned him by a telegram.
On the way to Euston I called on Sir George at his chambers in Lincoln's Inn Fields. He heard of my errand without and either approval or disapproval. His strong face was like a mask, and gave no sign. As I was leaving his room he touched my arm and said, “Have you telegraphed to your father?”
I answered "No,” and tried to hasten away.
“I must do so myself,” he said.
“Give me a week more,” I pleaded.
“There will still be time enough to stop him.”
Sir George nodded his head, and I left him. He had no faith in my errand, I knew that. Only his pity for the deep entanglement of my affections suffered him to see me go on with my enterprise.
Late the same night I reached Cumberland with Dr. La Mothe. We put up at the Wheatsheaf, and I lost no time in sending a message to McPherson and to Godwin, announcing my arrival, and asking them to oblige me with a call. The two men came together, and there was a strained and painful interview. I introduced the hypnotist and told of my intention, saying I desired their countenance and assistance.
The minister refused it, promptly and absolutely. His attitude was precisely that which I might have foreseen. What I proposed to do would be tampering with free will. His conscience was startled by such audacity. Drink was a temptation of the devil, only to be conquered by the grace of God. The measures we proposed to employ were the instruments of the evil
- ↑ Copyrighted, 1895, by Hall Caine.—This story began in the June number of Munsey's Magazine.
