"I am glad to find, from what I have seen up-stairs," I said, "that you
resisted the secret Dictate."
"Resisted isn't the word," answered Betteredge. "Wrostled is the word. I
wrostled, sir, between the silent orders in my bosom pulling me one way,
and the written orders in my pocket-book pushing me the other,
until (saving your presence) I was in a cold sweat. In that dreadful
perturbation of mind and laxity of body, to what remedy did I apply? To
the remedy, sir, which has never failed me yet for the last thirty years
and more--to This Book!"
He hit the book a sounding blow with his open hand, and struck out of it
a stronger smell of stale tobacco than ever.
"What did I find here," pursued Betteredge, "at the first page I
opened? This awful bit, sir, page one hundred and seventy-eight, as
follows.--'Upon these, and many like Reflections, I afterwards made it
a certain rule with me, That whenever I found those secret Hints or
Pressings of my Mind, to doing, or not doing any Thing that presented;
or to going this Way, or that Way, I never failed to obey the secret
Dictate.' As I live by bread, Mr. Jennings, those were the first words
that met my eye, exactly at the time when I myself was setting the
secret Dictate at defiance! You don't see anything at all out of the
common in that, do you, sir?"
"I see a coincidence--nothing more."
"You don't feel at all shaken, Mr. Jennings, in respect to this medical
enterprise of yours?
"Not the least in the world."
Betteredge stared hard at me, in dead silence. He closed the book
with great deliberation; he locked it up again in the cupboard with
extraordinary care; he wheeled round, and stared hard at me once more.
Then he spoke.
"Sir," he said gravely, "there are great allowances to be made for a man
who has not read ROBINSON CRUSOE since he was a child. I wish you good
morning."
He opened his door with a low bow, and left me at liberty to find my own
way into the garden. I met Mr. Blake returning to the house.
"You needn't tell me what has happened," he said. "Betteredge has played
his last card: he has made another prophetic discovery in ROBINSON
CRUSOE. Have you humoured his favourite delusion? No? You have let him
see that you don't believe in ROBINSON CRUSOE? Mr. Jennings! you have
fallen to the lowest possible place in Betteredge's estimation. Say what
you like, and do what you like, for the future. You will find that he
won't waste another word on you now."