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Updated: June 10, 2025
Next day the servant found the fine gold spectacles broken on the threshold, and that very night we were all standing breathless by the bar- room window, and Fettes at our side, sober, pale, and resolute in look. 'God protect us, Mr. Fettes! said the landlord, coming first into possession of his customary senses. 'What in the universe is all this? These are strange things you have been saying.
A nameless dread was swathed, like a wet sheet, about the body, and tightened the white skin upon the face of Fettes; a fear that was meaningless, a horror of what could not be, kept mounting to his brain. Another beat of the watch, and he had spoken. But his comrade forestalled him. "That is not a woman," said Macfarlane, in a hushed voice. "It was a woman when we put her in," whispered Fettes.
Fettes was an old drunken Scotchman, a man of education obviously, and a man of some property, since he lived in idleness. He had come to Debenham years ago, while still young, and by a mere continuance of living had grown to be an adopted townsman. His blue camlet cloak was a local antiquity, like the church-spire.
Fettes had outlived his terrors and had forgotten his baseness. He began to plume himself upon his courage, and had so arranged the story in his mind that he could look back on these events with an unhealthy pride. Of his accomplice he saw but little. They met, of course, in the business of the class; they received their orders together from Mr.
"Oh, yes, Toddy, you do!" "Don't you call me that confounded name," growled Macfarlane. "Hear him! Did you ever see the lads play knife? He would like to do that all over my body," remarked the stranger. "We medicals have a better way than that," said Fettes. "When we dislike a dead friend of ours, we dissect him." Macfarlane looked up sharply, as though this jest were scarcely to his mind.
Fettes became instantly sober; his eyes awoke, his voice became clear, loud, and steady, his language forcible and earnest. We were all startled by the transformation, as if a man had risen from the dead. "I beg your pardon," he said, "I am afraid I have not been paying much attention to your talk. Who is this Wolfe Macfarlane?"
By-the-bye, when a man of the world falls into a bit of luck, has a few shillings extra in his pocket I'm ashamed to speak of it, but there's a rule of conduct in the case. No treating, no purchase of expensive class-books, no squaring of old debts; borrow, don't lend." "Macfarlane," began Fettes, still somewhat hoarsely, "I have put my neck in a halter to oblige you."
A nameless dread was swathed, like a wet sheet, about the body, and tightened the white skin upon the face of Fettes; a fear that was meaningless, a horror of what could not be, kept mounting to his brain. Another beat of the watch, and he had spoken. But his comrade forestalled him. 'That is not a woman, said Macfarlane, in a hushed voice. 'It was a woman when we put her in, whispered Fettes.
For the present it must be how-d'ye-do and good-bye in one, for my fly is waiting, and I must not fail the train; but you shall let me see yes you shall give me your address, and you can count on early news of me. We must do something for you, Fettes. I fear you are out at elbows; but we must see to that for auld lang syne, as once we sang at suppers." "Money!" cried Fettes; "money from you!
He exercised, however, a very remarkable control over Macfarlane; issued orders like the Great Bashaw; became inflamed at the least discussion or delay, and commented rudely on the servility with which he was obeyed. This most offensive person took a fancy to Fettes on the spot, plied him with drinks, and honoured him with unusual confidences on his past career.
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