I gave you another treatment, and your eye improved, that would demonstrate . . .’
‘That would demonstrate that my original treatment has at last begun to be effective and that your treatment was of no significance.’
‘You want your eye to recover as fast as possible. If you apply a treatment and within a reasonable time there has been no improvement, then one may conclude that, within that time, the treatment does not work. Whether it works next week, the week after or in three years’ time does not matter.’
Dr Grove opened his mouth to dispute this line of argument, then suffered another twinge of pain in his eye, which he began once more to rub furiously.
I saw an opportunity both of ingratiating myself and perhaps even of gaining a fee to bolster my resources. So I asked for some warm water and straight away began to bathe the foul mess out of the eye entirely, thinking that this alone would probably effect an almost miraculous cure. By the time I had finished, his tortured eye was open once more and, although he was still in some discomfort, he expressed his joy at how much better he felt already. Even more satisfyingly, he attributed it solely to the potion I had applied.
‘Now for the next stage,’ Grove said stoutly as he rolled up his sleeve. ‘I think five ounces would do, don’t you think?’
I disagreed, although I refrained from telling him that I was far from convinced that bleeding ever did anyone much good, as I wasafraid of losing his confidence. So instead I suggested the harmony of his body would be better restored by a light vomit after eating – especially as he looked like a man who could easily miss a meal or two with no ill effects.
The treatment concluded, he asked me to share a glass of wine with him, which invitation I declined, having already drunk far too much recently. Instead, I explained my visit to him, thinking that if he did not bring up the incident in the coffee house, I would not do so either. Initially, I had been critical of his behaviour; now I knew the girl better, I was more understanding.
‘It is about a young man whom I encountered yesterday,’ I said. ‘A Mr Prestcott.’
Dr Grove frowned at the very mention of Mr Prestcott and asked how I had met him, considering that he was locked in the castle.
‘It was through my dear friend Dr Lower,’ I said, ‘who had a . . . message to deliver to him.’
‘Wants his corpse, does he?’ Grove said. ‘I swear when I become sick I feel inclined to go back to my family in Northampton, in case Lower turns up at my bedside with an acquisitive glint in his eye. What did Prestcott say?’
I told him that Prestcott had refused outright to countenance the idea, and Grove nodded. ‘Good for him. Sound boy, although it was easy to see that he’d come to a bad end. Very wayward.’
‘At the moment’, I replied gravely, ‘he seems very contrite and in need of spiritual comfort. He wants you to visit him, to offer him the solace of religion.’
Grove looked as pleased as he was surprised. ‘The ability of the noose to make even the worst of sinners embrace God’s mercy should never be underestimated,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘I will go this evening.’
I liked him for that. He was brusque and certainly of very definite opinions, yet he was also kindly, I sensed, and loved nothing better than for people to disagree with him. Lower told me later that, whatever his failings, Grove never took offence at opinions honestly held, even though he was determined to combat them as much as possible. It meant that, while he was difficult to like, some came to love him.
‘He was most anxious to speak to you as soon as possible,’ I said. ‘But I would recommend you wait for a day or so. The wind is from the north, and it is known that is bad for an ailment of the eyes.’
‘We shall see,’ he said. ‘But I must go soon. I was loath to do so unless he called for me himself, and I am gratified he now has. My
‘That would demonstrate that my original treatment has at last begun to be effective and that your treatment was of no significance.’
‘You want your eye to recover as fast as possible. If you apply a treatment and within a reasonable time there has been no improvement, then one may conclude that, within that time, the treatment does not work. Whether it works next week, the week after or in three years’ time does not matter.’
Dr Grove opened his mouth to dispute this line of argument, then suffered another twinge of pain in his eye, which he began once more to rub furiously.
I saw an opportunity both of ingratiating myself and perhaps even of gaining a fee to bolster my resources. So I asked for some warm water and straight away began to bathe the foul mess out of the eye entirely, thinking that this alone would probably effect an almost miraculous cure. By the time I had finished, his tortured eye was open once more and, although he was still in some discomfort, he expressed his joy at how much better he felt already. Even more satisfyingly, he attributed it solely to the potion I had applied.
‘Now for the next stage,’ Grove said stoutly as he rolled up his sleeve. ‘I think five ounces would do, don’t you think?’
I disagreed, although I refrained from telling him that I was far from convinced that bleeding ever did anyone much good, as I wasafraid of losing his confidence. So instead I suggested the harmony of his body would be better restored by a light vomit after eating – especially as he looked like a man who could easily miss a meal or two with no ill effects.
The treatment concluded, he asked me to share a glass of wine with him, which invitation I declined, having already drunk far too much recently. Instead, I explained my visit to him, thinking that if he did not bring up the incident in the coffee house, I would not do so either. Initially, I had been critical of his behaviour; now I knew the girl better, I was more understanding.
‘It is about a young man whom I encountered yesterday,’ I said. ‘A Mr Prestcott.’
Dr Grove frowned at the very mention of Mr Prestcott and asked how I had met him, considering that he was locked in the castle.
‘It was through my dear friend Dr Lower,’ I said, ‘who had a . . . message to deliver to him.’
‘Wants his corpse, does he?’ Grove said. ‘I swear when I become sick I feel inclined to go back to my family in Northampton, in case Lower turns up at my bedside with an acquisitive glint in his eye. What did Prestcott say?’
I told him that Prestcott had refused outright to countenance the idea, and Grove nodded. ‘Good for him. Sound boy, although it was easy to see that he’d come to a bad end. Very wayward.’
‘At the moment’, I replied gravely, ‘he seems very contrite and in need of spiritual comfort. He wants you to visit him, to offer him the solace of religion.’
Grove looked as pleased as he was surprised. ‘The ability of the noose to make even the worst of sinners embrace God’s mercy should never be underestimated,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘I will go this evening.’
I liked him for that. He was brusque and certainly of very definite opinions, yet he was also kindly, I sensed, and loved nothing better than for people to disagree with him. Lower told me later that, whatever his failings, Grove never took offence at opinions honestly held, even though he was determined to combat them as much as possible. It meant that, while he was difficult to like, some came to love him.
‘He was most anxious to speak to you as soon as possible,’ I said. ‘But I would recommend you wait for a day or so. The wind is from the north, and it is known that is bad for an ailment of the eyes.’
‘We shall see,’ he said. ‘But I must go soon. I was loath to do so unless he called for me himself, and I am gratified he now has. My
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