A Strange Discovery | Page 7

a fastidious care of even his own reputation to
impede the development of one of his surprises. If the town of Bellevue
was to stagnate mentally, it would not be the fault of George F.
Castleton, A.M., M.D.
It was on the eighth day of my stay in Bellevue, that, on starting forth
from the hotel one morning, I saw Doctor Castleton standing before the
Loomis House, in one of his favorite attitudes--that is, with his head
and shoulders thrown back and his hands upon his hips--looking
intently at a young man who stood speaking with an aged farmer across
the way, near the street curbing--a harmless-looking youth, with dark
blue eyes, and straight, very dark hair--in fact, the clerical-looking
young man whom I had seen from my windows. Something in the
man's make-up--perhaps something in his attire--suggested the stranger
in town. Doctor Castleton's large black eyes flashed irefully, and he
was evidently gratified at my approach. A complete stranger in my
place might have thought his arrival opportune, and have looked upon
himself as a diverting instrument in higher hands employed to prevent
bloodshed. As I stopped by the doctor's side, he said, with
ill-suppressed agitation,
"That d----d villain over there has got to leave town. He calls himself a
doctor, but I have set in motion the wheels of the law of this great State
of Illinois, and I'll expose the infernal rascal." Then, with a dark,

knowing look at me, he hissed (though none of his preceding words
had been audible across the street), "An 'Irregular,' sir--cursed
sugar-and-water quack--a figure 9 with the tail rubbed off. Why, sir"
(in a more conversational but still emphatic tone), "I have given sixty
grains of calomel at a dose, and I have given a tenth of a grain of
calomel at a dose; I would give a man a hundred grains of quinine, and
I have done it; I have" (and here he took from his pocket a small round
lozenge or button of bone) "--I have bored into the brains of man--into
the Corinthian Capital of Mortality, so to speak. When that man"
(pointing with his right forefinger to the circle of bone in his left palm)
"was kicked in the head by his mule, three of my colleagues were on
the scene before me--standing around like old women, doing nothing. I
have elaborate instruments, sir--I don't read any more books--the
world's literature is here" (tapping his forehead). "I've thought too
much to care for other men's ideas. Like old women, I was saying, sir.
'Give me a poker,' I yelled--' give me anything.' I sent for my trephine.
Great God, how the blood flew, and the bone creaked! I raised the
depressed bone. The man lives. I've done everything, in my life. And
now a cursed quack comes to town--. Where's his wife? I say--where's
his suffering children?--Don't tell me, anybody, that the man's not
married, and run away from his suffering wife. Take his trail; glide like
the wily savage back over his course, and mark me, sir, you'll trace the
pathway of a besom of destruction: weeping mothers, broken-hearted
fathers, daughters bowed in the dust. What's he here for? Why didn't he
stay where he was? But I'll drive him out of town--you will see--bag
and baggage: the wires are set--the avalanche approaches--he is
doomed."
Two days later, at the same spot, I came upon Doctor Castleton in
conversation with the harmless-looking young man, to whom the
doctor formally presented me. The name of the young man, as stated by
Castleton, and as I already knew, was "Doctor Bainbridge." We
exchanged a few words, he extended to me an invitation to call upon
him, and he accepted an urgent request from me to visit me at the hotel.
As my stay in America would probably last but a few days longer, I
proposed that the evening of that same day be selected as the time for
his visit, and to this proposal he readily assented. Then, with a quiet

smile, he bowed and left us. As he walked away Doctor Castleton
remarked,
"That young man is a genius, sir. Belongs to the Corinthian Capital of
Mortality. Trust me, sir, he's the coming man in this town. He will be a
power here, in the years to come. I read a man, sir, as you would read a
book."
I then invited Doctor Castleton to come to my rooms that evening, even
if he could spare no more than a few moments; and he promised to
come, "Though," he said, "I may not be able more than to run in, and
run out again." Bainbridge, the new Bellevue candidate for medical
practice, could devote his hours as he should elect; but Castleton, "for
twenty years the guardian of the