ARTHUR
46

Belding, Hadwin's next neighbor, though unaffected by the general panic, continued to visit the city daily with his market wagon . He departs at sunrise, and usually returns during the day. A letter was received in time by Susan. As the hour of Belding's return approached, his impatience and anxiety increased. The daily letter was received and read, with overflowing zeal. For a while his emotions subsided, but returned with increased vigor at noon the next day.

This agitation was too harsh for a weak constitution like his. He renewed his plea to Wallace to get out of the city. He repeated his statement about the existence, until now, of safety, and his promise to come when danger was near. When Belding returns, instead of being accompanied by Wallace, with only a letter from her, the unhappy Susan will drown in wailing and crying, and resisted every attempt to console him with a stubbornness that became madness. Finally, it is apparent that Wallace's delay will be fatal to his employer's health.

Mr. Hadwin has been passive until now. He understands that his daughter's pleas and protests are more likely to affect Wallace's behavior than any representation he can make. Now, however, he writes a letter to Wallace, in which he gives orders to her to return with Belding, and states that with a longer delay, the young man will lose his favor.

The disease, at this moment, is making considerable progress. Belding's interest eventually succumbs to his fear, and this is the last trip he proposes to take. Therefore, our impatience for Wallace's return increased; for, if this opportunity were to be lost, no more suitable conveyance would be offered to him.

Belding departed, as usual, in the early hours. The habitual interval between her departure and return is spent by Susan in a turmoil of hope and fear. As midday approached, his tension escalated into wildness and suffering. He could hardly help but run along the road, for miles, towards the city; that he might, by meeting Belding halfway, more quickly ascertain the fate of his lover. He placed himself in the window facing the road that Belding had to go through.

His older sister and father, though impatient, marked, with painful desire, the first sound of an approaching vehicle. They snatched a look at it as soon as it appeared in plain sight. Unaccompanied belding.

This confirmation of her fear made Susan unhappy. He sank into a fit, from which, for a long time, his recovery was hopeless. This was replaced by a ferocious onslaught of madness, in which he attempted to seize every pointy tool that was within his reach, with the intention of destroying himself. This which was carefully removed, or forcibly taken away from her, she withdrew from sobs and cries.

After interrogating Belding, he told us that he occupied his usual post in the market; that up until now Wallace should have searched for him, and exchanged letters; but, this morning, the young man did not appear, although Belding has been persuaded, by his desire to meet him, to extend his stay in the city longer than usual.

That some other cause other than illness has led to this negligence is almost impossible. There is almost no room for the most optimistic temperament to indulge hope. Wallace is without relatives, and possibly without friends, in town. The merchant whose service he placed was connected to him without consideration except interests. Then what should the situation be when infected with a disease that all believe is contagious, and a fear of being able to break the strongest bond that binds humans together?

This disease affects men with different levels of malignancy. In its worst form it may be incurable; but, in some way, it can no doubt be conquered by the skill of the doctor and the loyalty of the nurse. In its least frightening symptoms, neglect and solitude will make it fatal.

Wallace may, perhaps, experience this pest in the mildest degree; but the desertion of all mankind, not only of medicine but of food, will seal his doom irrevocably. My imagination was ceaselessly pursued by the image of this young man, perishing alone, and in obscurity; calling the name of a distant friend, or begging, ineffectively, for help from those near.

Until now distress has been contemplated from a distance, and through the medium of lavish pleasure to be struck by the beautiful, or transported by the majesty. Now that calamity has entered my own door, imaginary evil is replaced by the real, and my heart is a place of sympathy and horror.

I find myself unfit for recreation or work. I enveloped myself in the darkness of the neighboring forest, or got lost in the maze of rocks and valleys. I tried, in vain, to cover up Wallace's dying ghost, and forget the spectacle of domestic misery. It finally occurred to me to ask, May this evil not be put aside, and the happiness of the Hadwin family be rebuilt? Wallace had no friends and no help; but could I not give him a place of protection and nurses? Why not rush into the city, search for his place to live, and make sure if he is alive or dead? If he still preserves life, may I, with consolation and presence, contribute to the restoration of his health, and bring him once again into the lap of his family?

By what transport his arrival will be commended! How much their impatience and sadness will be compensated with his return! In the spectacle of their joy, how festive and pure was my pleasure! Are the benefits I received from Hadwin demanding less retaliation than this?

It is true that my own life will be threatened; but my danger will be proportional to the duration of my stay at this site of infection. Wallace's death or escape might free me from having to spend a night in town. Rural people who go to the market every day, as evidenced by experience, are free from this disease; consequently, perhaps, limiting their survival in the city to a few hours. Can't I, in this case, follow their example, and enjoy similar exceptions?

I stayed, however, maybe longer than the day. I may be cursed to share in a common destiny. How then? Life depends on a thousand possibilities, not to be calculated or predicted. The seeds of premature and lingering death are sown in my constitution. In vain hope to escape the disease that caused the death of my mother and brothers. We are a race whose existence of some inherent property is limited to a short period of twenty years. We are exposed, as with the rest of humanity, to innumerable casualties; but, if these are shunned, we are doomed to perish by consumption . Then why should I hesitate to give up my life for the sake of virtue and humanity? It is better to die in the consciousness of having offered heroic sacrifices, to die with quick blows, than to die of evil nature, in shameful inactivity and prolonged suffering.