"When you look at yourself in the glass you see the typical appearance of the leper.""You are jesting," said Strickland."I wish to God I were.""Do you intend to tell me that I have leprosy?" "Unfortunately, there can be no doubt of it."Dr.Coutras had delivered sentence of death on many men, and he could never overcome the horror with which it filled him.He felt always the furious hatred that must seize a man condemned when he compared himself with the doctor, sane and healthy, who had the inestimable privilege of life.Strickland looked at him in silence.Nothing of emotion could be seen on his face, disfigured already by the loathsome disease.
"Do they know?" he asked at last, pointing to the persons on the verandah, now sitting in unusual, unaccountable silence.
"These natives know the signs so well," said the doctor."They were afraid to tell you."Strickland stepped to the door and looked out.There must have been something terrible in his face, for suddenly they all burst out into loud cries and lamentation.They lifted up their voices and they wept.Strickland did not speak.After looking at them for a moment, he came back into the room.
"How long do you think I can last?"
"Who knows? Sometimes the disease continues for twenty years.It is a mercy when it runs its course quickly."Strickland went to his easel and looked reflectively at the picture that stood on it.
"You have had a long journey.It is fitting that the bearer of important tidings should be rewarded.Take this picture.It means nothing to you now, but it may be that one day you will be glad to have it." Dr.Coutras protested that he needed no payment for his journey; he had already given back to Ata the hundred-franc note, but Strickland insisted that he should take the picture.Then together they went out on the verandah.The natives were sobbing violently."Be quiet, woman.Dry thy tears," said Strickland, addressing Ata."There is no great harm.
I shall leave thee very soon."
"They are not going to take thee away?" she cried.
At that time there was no rigid sequestration on the islands, and lepers, if they chose, were allowed to go free.
"I shall go up into the mountain," said Strickland.Then Ata stood up and faced him.
"Let the others go if they choose, but I will not leave thee.Thou art my man and I am thy woman.If thou leavest me I shall hang myself on the tree that is behind the house.I swear it by God."There was something immensely forcible in the way she spoke.She was no longer the meek, soft native girl, but a determined woman.She was extraordinarily transformed.
"Why shouldst thou stay with me? Thou canst go back to Papeete, and thou wilt soon find another white man.The old woman can take care of thy children, and Tiare will be glad to have thee back.""Thou art my man and I am thy woman.Whither thou goest I will go, too." For a moment Strickland's fortitude was shaken, and a tear filled each of his eyes and trickled slowly down his cheeks.Then he gave the sardonic smile which was usual with him.
"Women are strange little beasts," he said to Dr.Coutras."You can treat them like dogs, you can beat them till your arm aches, and still they love you." He shrugged his shoulders."Of course, it is one of the most absurd illusions of Christianity that they have souls.""What is it that thou art saying to the doctor?" asked Ata suspiciously."Thou wilt not go?""If it please thee I will stay, poor child."Ata flung herself on her knees before him, and clasped his legs with her arms and kissed them.Strickland looked at Dr.Coutras with a faint smile.
"In the end they get you, and you are helpless in their hands.White or brown, they are all the same."Dr.Coutras felt that it was absurd to offer expressions of regret in so terrible a disaster, and he took his leave.Strickland told Tane, the boy, to lead him to the village.Dr.Coutras paused for a moment, and then he addressed himself to me.
