The Stolen Bacillus and Other Incidents | Page 5

a whirl of excitement!--compared to me."
"I think I would rather be without so much excitement," said his
housekeeper. "It can't be good for you."
"I suppose it's troublesome. Still ... you see, nothing ever happens to me.
When I was a little boy I never had accidents. I never fell in love as I
grew up. Never married.... I wonder how it feels to have something
happen to you, something really remarkable.
"That orchid-collector was only thirty-six--twenty years younger than
myself--when he died. And he had been married twice and divorced
once; he had had malarial fever four times, and once he broke his thigh.
He killed a Malay once, and once he was wounded by a poisoned dart
And in the end he was killed by jungle-leeches. It must have all been
very troublesome, but then it must have been very interesting, you
know--except, perhaps, the leeches."
"I am sure it was not good for him," said the lady, with conviction.
"Perhaps not." And then Wedderburn looked at his watch.
"Twenty-three minutes past eight I am going up by the quarter to
twelve train, so that there is plenty of time. I think I shall wear my
alpaca jacket--it is quite warm enough--and my grey felt hat and brown
shoes. I suppose--"
He glanced out of the window at the serene sky and sunlit garden, and
then nervously at his cousin's face.
"I think you had better take an umbrella if you are going to London,"
she said in a voice that admitted of no denial. "There's all between here
and the station coming back."

When he returned he was in a state of mild excitement. He had made a
purchase. It was rare that he could make up his mind quickly enough to
buy, but this time he had done so.
"There are Vandas," he said, "and a Dendrobe and some Palaeonophis."
He surveyed his purchases lovingly as he consumed his soup. They
were laid out on the spotless tablecloth before him, and he was telling
his cousin all about them as he slowly meandered through his dinner. It
was his custom to live all his visits to London over again in the evening
for her and his own entertainment.
"I knew something would happen to-day. And I have bought all these.
Some of them--some of them--I feel sure, do you know, that some of
them will be remarkable. I don't know how it is, but I feel just as sure
as if someone had told me that some of these will turn out remarkable.
"That one"--he pointed to a shrivelled rhizome--"was not identified. It
may be a Palaeonophis--or it may not. It may be a new species, or even
a new genus. And it was the last that poor Batten ever collected."
"I don't like the look of it," said his housekeeper. "It's such an ugly
shape."
"To me it scarcely seems to have a shape."
"I don't like those things that stick out," said his housekeeper.
"It shall be put away in a pot to-morrow."
"It looks," said the housekeeper, "like a spider shamming dead."
Wedderburn smiled and surveyed the root with his head on one side. "It
is certainly not a pretty lump of stuff. But you can never judge of these
things from their dry appearance. It may turn out to be a very beautiful
orchid indeed. How busy I shall be to-morrow! I must see to-night just
exactly what to do with these things, and to-morrow I shall set to
work."

"They found poor Batten lying dead, or dying, in a mangrove swamp--I
forget which," he began again presently, "with one of these very
orchids crushed up under his body. He had been unwell for some days
with some kind of native fever, and I suppose he fainted. These
mangrove swamps are very unwholesome. Every drop of blood, they
say, was taken out of him by the jungle-leeches. It may be that very
plant that cost him his life to obtain."
"I think none the better of it for that."
"Men must work though women may weep," said Wedderburn with
profound gravity.
"Fancy dying away from every comfort in a nasty swamp! Fancy being
ill of fever with nothing to take but chlorodyne and quinine--if men
were left to themselves they would live on chlorodyne and quinine--and
no one round you but horrible natives! They say the Andaman islanders
are most disgusting wretches--and, anyhow, they can scarcely make
good nurses, not having the necessary training. And just for people in
England to have orchids!"
"I don't suppose it was comfortable, but some men seem to enjoy that
kind of thing," said Wedderburn. "Anyhow, the natives of his party
were sufficiently civilised to take care of all his collection until his
colleague, who was an