“I see,” said the young man, looking thoughtful.
“Now, you are a musician, are you not?”
“I play a little,” said the young man, with a bewildered look.
“You play the violin?”
“Yes.”
“And, of course, you have it in your rooms. Would you be so good as to bring me the bow of your violin, and borrow for me anywhere a tuning-fork of as high a note as possible?”
The young man looked at Dr Lefevre in puzzled inquiry; but the doctor was considering the electrical apparatus before him, and the young man set off on his errands. When he returned with the fiddle-bow and the tuning-fork, he saw Lefevre had placed the machine ready, with fresh chemicals in the vessels.
“Do you perceive my purpose?” asked Lefevre. He placed one handle of the apparatus in the unconscious patient’s right hand, while he himself took hold of her left arm with his right hand, so that the inner side of his wrist was in contact with the inner side of hers; and then, to complete the circle of connection, he took in his left hand the other handle of the apparatus. “You don’t understand?”
“I do not,” answered the young man.
“We want a very rapid vibration—much more rapid than usual,” said the doctor. “I can apply no more rapid vibration at present than that which the note of that tuning-fork will produce. I want you to sound the tuning-fork with the fiddle-bow, and then apply the fork to this wire.”
“Oh,” said the young man, “I understand!”
“Now,” said Lefevre, “you’d better call the Sister to set the electricity going.”
The Sister came and took her place as before described—with her hands, that is, on the cylinder of the electrode, her fingers dipping over into the vessels of chemicals. She opened her eyes and smiled at sight of the fiddle-bow and tuning-fork.
“I am trying a new thing, Sister,” said Lefevre, with a touch of severity. “I do not need you, I do not wish you, to exert yourself this time; I only wish you to keep that position, and to be calm. Maintain your composure, and attend.... Now!” said he, addressing the young man.
The fiddle-bow was drawn across the tuning-fork, and the fork applied with its thrilling note to the conducting wire which Lefevre held. The wire hummed its vibration, and electricity tingled wildly through Lefevre’s nerves... There was an anxious, breathless pause for some seconds, and fear of failure began to contract the doctor’s heart.
“Take your hands away, Sister,” said he. Then, turning to his assistant, “Apply that to the other wire,” said he; and dropping his own wire, he put his hand over the cylinder, with his fingers dipping into the vessel from which the other wire sprang. When the wire hummed under the tuning-fork and the vibration thrilled again, instantly he felt as if an inert obstruction had been removed. The vibratory influence whirled wildly through him, there was a pause of a second or two (which seemed to him many minutes in duration), and then suddenly a kind of rigor passed upon the form and features of his patient, as if each individual nerve and muscle were being threaded with quick wire, a sharp rush of breath filled her chest, and she opened her eyes and closed them again.