Round the Red Lamp: Being Facts and Fancies of Medical LifeDoyle, Arthur Conan
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Round the Red Lamp: Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Medical fiction; Physicians -- Fiction
It was the more to his credit that he should keep up to date in his
knowledge, since he had no competition to force him to exertion. In
the seven years during which he had practised in Hoyland three rivals
had pitted themselves against him, two in the village itself and one in
the neighbouring hamlet of Lower Hoyland. Of these one had sickened
and wasted, being, as it was said, himself the only patient whom he had
treated during his eighteen months of ruralising. A second had bought
a fourth share of a Basingstoke practice, and had departed honourably,
while a third had vanished one September night, leaving a gutted house
and an unpaid drug bill behind him. Since then the district had become
a monopoly, and no one had dared to measure himself against the
established fame of the Hoyland doctor.
It was, then, with a feeling of some surprise and considerable
curiosity that on driving through Lower Hoyland one morning he
perceived that the new house at the end of the village was occupied,
and that a virgin brass plate glistened upon the swinging gate which
faced the high road. He pulled up his fifty guinea chestnut mare and
took a good look at it. "Verrinder Smith, M. D.," was printed across
it in very neat, small lettering. The last man had had letters half a
foot long, with a lamp like a fire-station. Dr. James Ripley noted the
difference, and deduced from it that the new-comer might possibly prove
a more formidable opponent. He was convinced of it that evening when
he came to consult the current medical directory. By it he learned
that Dr. Verrinder Smith was the holder of superb degrees, that he had
studied with distinction at Edinburgh, Paris, Berlin, and Vienna, and
finally that he had been awarded a gold medal and the Lee Hopkins
scholarship for original research, in recognition of an exhaustive
inquiry into the functions of the anterior spinal nerve roots. Dr.
Ripley passed his fingers through his thin hair in bewilderment as he
read his rival's record. What on earth could so brilliant a man mean
by putting up his plate in a little Hampshire hamlet.
But Dr. Ripley furnished himself with an explanation to the riddle. No
doubt Dr. Verrinder Smith had simply come down there in order to pursue
some scientific research in peace and quiet. The plate was up as an
address rather than as an invitation to patients. Of course, that must
be the true explanation. In that case the presence of this brilliant
neighbour would be a splendid thing for his own studies. He had often
longed for some kindred mind, some steel on which he might strike his
flint. Chance had brought it to him, and he rejoiced exceedingly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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