The Man from Archangel, and Other Tales of AdventureDoyle, Arthur Conan
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The Man from Archangel, and Other Tales of Adventure
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Adventure stories, English; Physicians -- Fiction
His small eyes glittered with sly facetiousness as he shot a twinkle at
his sister. She sat very stiff, and traced patterns upon the cloth with
the sugar-tongs.
"Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien----" said the Professor sonorously.
"Don't, John, don't!" cried Miss Ainslie Grey.
"Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien," continued her brother inexorably, "is a man
who has already made his mark upon the science of the day. He is my
first and my most distinguished pupil. I assure you, Ada, that his
'Remarks upon the Bile-Pigments, with special reference to Urobilin,' is
likely to live as a classic. It is not too much to say that he has
revolutionised our views about Urobilin."
He paused, but his sister sat silent, with bent head and flushed cheeks.
The little ebony cross rose and fell with her hurried breathings.
"Dr. James M'Murdo O'Brien has, as you know, the offer of the
physiological chair at Melbourne. He has been in Australia five years,
and has a brilliant future before him. To-day he leaves us for
Edinburgh, and in two months' time he goes out to take over his new
duties. You know his feeling towards you. It rests with you as to
whether he goes out alone. Speaking for myself, I cannot imagine any
higher mission for a woman of culture than to go through life in the
company of a man who is capable of such a research as that which Dr.
James M'Murdo O'Brien has brought to a successful conclusion."
"He has not spoken to me," murmured the lady.
"Ah, there are signs which are more subtle than speech," said her
brother, wagging his head. "You are pale. Your vasomotor system is
excited. Your arterioles have contracted. Let me entreat you to compose
yourself. I think I hear the carriage. I fancy that you may have a
visitor this morning, Ada. You will excuse me now."
With a quick glance at the clock he strode off into the hall, and within
a few minutes he was rattling in his quiet, well-appointed brougham
through the brick-lined streets of Birchespool.
His lecture over, Professor Ainslie Grey paid a visit to his laboratory,
where he adjusted several scientific instruments, made a note as to the
progress of three separate infusions of bacteria, cut half a dozen
sections with a microtome, and finally resolved the difficulties of
seven different gentlemen, who were pursuing researches in as many
separate lines of inquiry. Having thus conscientiously and methodically
completed the routine of his duties, he returned to his carriage and
ordered the coachman to drive him to The Lindens. His face as he drove
was cold and impassive, but he drew his fingers from time to time down
his prominent chin with a jerky, twitchy movement.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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