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laced curtains of the dying Narcissa； a man who； through long contact
with suffering； had acquired a universal tenderness and breadth of kindly
philosophy； a man who； day and night； was at the beck and call of anguish；
a man who never asked the creed； belief； moral or worldly standing of the
sufferer； or even his ability to pay the few coins that enabled him （the
physician） to exist and practice his calling； in brief； a man who so nearly
lived up to the example of the Great Master that it seems strange I am
writing of him as a doctor of medicine and not of divinity。
The note was in pencil； characteristically brief； and ran thus：
〃Here is the man I spoke of。 He ought to be good material for you。〃
For a moment I sat looking from the note to the man； and sounding the
〃dim perilous depths〃 of my memory for the meaning of this mysterious
communication。 The good 〃material；〃 however； soon relieved my
embarrassment by putting his hand on his waistcoat； coming toward me；
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and saying； 〃It is just here； you can feel it。〃
It was not necessary for me to do so。 In a flash I remembered that my
medical friend had told me of a certain poor patient； once a soldier； who；
among his other trials and uncertainties； was afflicted with an aneurism
caused by the buckle of his knapsack pressing upon the arch of the aorta。
It was liable to burst at any shock or any moment。 The poor fellow's
yoke had indeed been too heavy。
In the presence of such a tremendous possibility I think for an instant I
felt anxious only about myself。 What I should do； how dispose of the
body； how explain the circumstance of his taking off； how evade the
ubiquitous reporter and the coroner's inquest； how a suspicion might arise
that I had in some way； through negligence or for some dark purpose；
unknown to the jury； precipitated the catastrophe； all flashed before me。
Even the note； with its darkly suggestive offer of 〃good material〃 for me；
looked diabolically significant。 What might not an intelligent lawyer
make of it？
I tore it up instantly； and with feverish courtesy begged him to be
seated。
〃You don't care to feel it？〃 he asked； a little anxiously。
〃No。〃
〃Nor see it？〃
〃No。〃
He sighed； a trifle sadly； as if I had rejected the only favor he could
bestow。 I saw at once that he had been under frequent exhibition to the
doctors； and that he was； perhaps； a trifle vain of this attention。 This
perception was corroborated a moment later by his producing a copy of a
medical magazine； with a remark that on the sixth page I would find a full
statement of his case。
〃Could I serve him in any way？〃 I asked。
It appeared that I could。 If I could help him to any light employment；
something that did not require any great physical exertion or mental
excitement； he would be thankful。 But he wanted me to understand that
he was not； strictly speaking； a poor man； that some years before the
discovery of his fatal complaint he had taken out a life insurance policy
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for five thousand dollars； and that he had raked and scraped enough
together to pay it up； and that he would not leave his wife and four
children destitute。 〃You see；〃 he added； 〃if I could find some sort of light
work to do； and kinder sled along； you knowuntil〃
He stopped； awkwardly。
I have heard several noted actors thrill their audiences with a single
phrase。 I think I never was as honestly moved by any spoken word as
that 〃until；〃 or the pause that followed it。 He was evidently quite
unconscious of its effect； for as I took a seat beside him on the sofa； and
looked more closely in his waxen face； I could see that he was evidently
embarrassed； and would have explained himself further； if I had not
stopped him。
Possibly it was the dramatic idea； or possibly chance； but a few days
afterward； meeting a certain kind…hearted theatrical manager； I asked him
if he had any light employment for a man who was an invalid？ 〃Can he
walk？〃 〃Yes。〃 〃Stand up for fifteen minutes？〃 〃Yes。〃 〃Then I'll take
him。 He'll do for the last scene in the 'Destruction of Sennacherib'it's a
tremendous thing； you know。 We'll have two thousand people on the
stage。〃 I was a trifle alarmed at the title； and ventured to suggest
（without betraying my poor friend's secret that he could not actively
engage in the 〃Destruction of Sennacherib；〃 and that even the spectacle of
it might be too much for him。 〃Needn't see it at all；〃 said my managerial
friend； 〃put him in front； nothing to do but march in and march out； and
dodge curtain。〃
He was engaged。 I admit I was at times haunted by grave doubts as
to whether I should not have informed the manager of his physical
condition； and the possibility that he might some evening perpetrate a real
tragedy on the mimic stage； but on the first performance of 〃The
Destruction of Sennacherib；〃 which I conscientiously attended； I was
somewhat relieved。 I had often been amused with the placid way in
which the chorus in the opera invariably received the most astounding
information； and witnessed the most appalling tragedies by poison or the
block； without anything more than a vocal protest or command； always
delivered to the audience and never to the actors； but I think my poor
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friend's utter impassiveness to the wild carnage and the terrible exhibitions
of incendiarism that were going on around him transcended even that。
Dressed in a costume that seemed to be the very soul of anachronism； he
stood a little outside the proscenium； holding a spear； the other hand
pressed apparently upon the secret