The thing in the woods

I had just made my rounds of the wards for the last time, that June evening, fifteen years ago, when Murchison, my chief, came to me with the open letter in his hand.

"Here's the very chance to suit you, Haverill," he said. "Read that! A chap named Lennox, in Pennsylvania, wants a substitute for three months. Small country practice--no work of any account, I imagine--and a good holiday thrown in. Just reached me tonight, by chance."

I had finished my term as interne, and was leaving the hospital the next day. The whole summer was before me, for after three years of heavy work I owed myself one good vacation before settling to the task of building up a private practice, and I was glad enough of the chance to turn it to advantage. Every dollar I had saved I had put aside for the future struggle, and Murchison knew it. How to take a three months' vacation on next to nothing was no easy problem, and only such an opportunity as this, for which I had been searching vainly for weeks past, could solve it.

I glanced at the signature below the letter.

"George Lennox.... I used to know a George Lennox at college."

"Probably the same man. He asks me to recommend some one reliable. Funny idea. He can't have much opinion of his country colleagues, or he'd simply hand the patients over. There can't be so many of them, in a place like that. Rather fussy, I gather! Well, it might suit you. I thought I'd ask you before I spoke to anyone else."

It suited me so well, in prospect, that I sat down at Murchison's desk and wrote off my application then and there. Lennox's answer came promptly, dated from the small town in Pennsylvania where he had been settled for the past five years. Beyond a few details about the place, his letter told me very little. He was leaving for his health, to take a three months' holiday abroad, and he wanted a substitute as early as possible. The practice was that of the average country doctor in a not over-populous neighbourhood. It was a bracing district, not far from the mountains; there was good fishing, and some shooting in the fall, and with the arrangements he offered it fell in perfectly with my own plans. He was urgent that I should take over the work as soon as I could, and after a brief correspondence I settled up my affairs in the city--they were not many--packed my few belongings, and went down.

It was a small and primitive station at which I was deposited, after a somewhat uninteresting train journey. The place struck me, even in those days, as a survival of an earlier age; one of those little backwaters left behind in the flow of progress. As I stood looking about me at the stretch of dusty road, the hotel, and the few clustered shops that marked the beginning of the village street, the station-master came up.

"You're for Doctor Lennox, ain't you?" he began. "His buggy's there waitin'. I reckon Pete's over at the saloon, puttin' in time! I'll step over an' tell him."

I put my valise in the solitary vehicle he indicated, with a smart roan mare in the shafts, and a moment later "Pete" appeared, drawing a furtive black hand over his mouth. I addressed him curtly; if he was to be my factotum during the next three months there would have to be less of these rather free-and-easy ways. He eyed me civilly, with some curiosity, muttering a darkie's invariable ready excuses; climbed to the buggy seat, tilting his straw hat over his eyes, and we set off.

The village was not large. It seemed that Lennox's place was some mile and a half out, and our road led for the most part through woods. It was pretty country. The trees were tall and close-growing, hickory and oak, with young saplings pushing a sturdy growth between. There were boulders everywhere, the sullen granite that in this district crops out through the earth's scant surface, making the small farmer's life a perpetual harvest of stone picking. To me, fresh from the city pavements, it was picturesque enough. Once a hare loped across our path, and I saw Pete shift the reins to scrabble in his coat pocket. He cast a half-sheepish glance at me as he did so.

"Have you lost something?" I asked.

"No, sah! I jest recollected suthin'. Raikon dat hyar remin' me!"

"Meeting a rabbit is supposed to be lucky, isn't it?" I remarked, lighting a cigarette. "It seems to me I've heard so."

He looked at me suspiciously, and I knew that I had divined correctly the reason of that sudden dive. "Dat so, sah?" he said guilelessly. "I 'spect all dem things jes' depend!"

A few yards further the road took a bend.

Along the narrow footpath at the side a girl was walking. She was dressed in a short golf-skirt and cotton blouse, with a man's Panama on her head, and from her look I took her for a chance summer visitor rather than a resident. I noticed her only casually, but as the buggy drew abreast she lifted her head, and instantly I felt Pete swerve against me on the seat. His clumsy action made the horse start. The girl laughed, a little mocking ripple--I heard her with a glow of annoyance--and we shot off at increased pace up the road.

I turned to the man angrily; he had drunk even more than I supposed. His face was actually pale, as pale as a darkie's can be. His hand was in his pocket again, and he turned my blame promptly on the horse.

"Yoh clumsy trash, ain' yoh look whar yoh goin' a-skeerin' folks that way! I'se larn yoh suthin' some day!"

"What's the matter with you?" I said. "Can't you drive steadily?"

He fell to muttering, apologetic, conciliatory.

"'Deed, sah, dat hoss ain' got no sainse! I done druv dat hoss two years, an' I know her, sah! Dere ain' no hoss round got less sainse. Sho as we met dat hyar I knew there was suthin' boun' ter happen! I ain' got no use fur meetin' hyars in de mawnin'--no, sah! I ain' doin' no business wiv 'em!"

We reached Lennox's house without further incident. It was a grey stone house, standing back in a pleasant garden, with barn and small orchard adjoining. Lennox was out on the porch to welcome me. Pete led the mare swiftly round to the side and began to unharness; I think he was anxious to escape any possible comment I might make to the doctor on his condition.

"Well, so you've got here!" Lennox said as we shook hands. "I'm very glad. Did you have a tiresome journey? Come inside. I'm very glad to see you!"

His tone was cordiality itself. To my ears it had even a note of relief. It struck me instantly, as I looked at him, that he had been through some recent stress of worry, if not ill-health. He had aged considerably. He was older than I, and his hair already a little grey at the temples. His face was lined and troubled, and he had an uneasy way with his hands I did not like. I had known him always as a rather steady-going, plodding sort of fellow, not given to excess of nervous energy in any form, and his present appearance gave me something of a shock.

He led the way into the house. Dinner was already served. Lennox followed the country custom in dining early. I don't know how the staid elderly woman, who was both cook and housekeeper, and who was to fulfil the same offices for me, would take to such an innovation as dinner at seven. I ate well after my journey, Lennox but sparingly. He offered me a high ball with the meal, but drank only water himself.

"I've got into country ways," he said. "I'm afraid you'll find the place a bit dull, Haverill, but you'll manage all right. You can get most things you want, down here; the tradespeople aren't bad."

Over our meal we talked chiefly of the University days when we had been more or less friends, though Lennox was already a senior when I entered, of the men we had mutually known and of their careers, and lightly only, of our own. Lennox was not over-talkative, but he seemed more at ease as the day wore on. I could see he was glad to have me definitely there, was anxious to start, but I was not quite prepared for his answer when I asked him what day he thought of leaving.

"Oh, tomorrow! I shall get the twelve-thirty to the city. Everything is ready."

I suppose I looked rather blank, for I had counted on a couple of days at least in his company before I was left alone.

"You'll find everything easy to hand. I'll go over things with you this evening. It isn't a specially busy place here, you know!"

"And you'll be away three months?" I asked.

"More or less.... My dear fellow, I want a change! I want it frightfully!" I agreed with him. His eyes were wandering round the room as he spoke. "The work's nothing here--worse luck! You'll have practically a holiday. But I'm quite run down. There've been some ... some family worries. What's the matter, Pete?"

The coloured man had come into the room.

"De mare's done got anudder shoe loose. I 'specs I'll hev to take her into town."

"Again? You should have had it seen to this morning early." He spoke irritably. "Take her in, and don't be late back!"

"Yessah!"

Pete went out lingeringly, and I more than suspected from his entry that he had been listening, or attempting to listen, to our talk.

"That man," I said when he had gone. "Do you find him all right?"

"Pete?" Lennox lit a cigar. "He's invaluable! You'll find him a splendid servant. He's been with me three years, and I wouldn't part with him for a good deal. He has his faults, as all darkies have, but he's thoroughly trustworthy!"