Hammond Innes - Campbell's Kingdom

‘How did you know I had it?’ I interrupted her.

‘Sarah Garret told me.’

‘She shouldn’t have. I told her because-’ What was the use of talking about it? I felt tired now. ‘I want to sleep,’ I murmured. Anything to get her out of the room, to avoid having to look at her and have her eyes and face and body reproaching me for the future that might have been. ‘Please, Jean,’ I whispered. ‘Leave me. Let me go to sleep now.’

There was no sound in the room only a tense silence. Then I heard her move. ‘Not until I’ve said something,’ she said gently. I opened my eyes to see her bending over me. A shaft of sunlight touched her hair, rimming her face in gold. Her hand touched my face, smoothing my forehead. ‘I’m not leaving you, Bruce. Whether you marry me or not doesn’t matter, but you’ll just have to get used to having me around.’

I stared up at her for a moment and then closed my eyes. I think I wanted to hold the memory of her face, that little smile that spread up into the eyes. ‘The doctor may be wrong,’ I murmured.

‘If you weren’t injured I’d slap you for that.’ Her voice trembled slightly. Then she bent over me and her lips touched mine. ‘I seem fated to fall in love with men who are under sentence of death.’ Her fingers touched my temple and then I heard her footsteps cross the room, the door closed and I was alone. I lay there, feeling relaxed and happy. I wasn’t afraid of anything now. I wasn’t alone. Even the pain seemed dull as I sank into a deep sleep.

It is winter now and the mountains lie under a white mantle of snow. I am writing this, sitting at the desk my grandfather made. Johnnie brought it down from the Kingdom with him. Through the window I look across a clearing in the cottonwoods to the ford where the waters of Thunder Creek glide swift and black to the lake. Some day that clearing will be a garden. Already Jean has a library of gardening books sent out from England and is planning the layout. We are full of plans — plans for the house, plans for the development of the Kingdom, plans for a family. It is just wonderful to sit back and plan. To plan something is to have a future. And to have a future is to have the whole of life.

As you’ve probably guessed already, the miracle did happen. Dr Graham was right. The X-ray pictures showed no trace of a cancer growth. How it happened nobody seems to know. I can only quote the letter I received from Dr Maclean-Harvey.

Dear Mr Wetheral,

Dr Graham has sent me the full details of your case as at 27th August, together with the X-ray photographs he has had taken. I can only say that I entirely agree with his view that there is now no trace of cancer and that you are completely cured and have no need to worry for the future.

You must be wondering now whether I was correct in my original diagnosis. For your benefit I am sending Dr Graham copies of the X-rays taken at the London Hospital on 17th April together with a copy of the case notes I made at the time. You might like to frame one of the pictures side-by-side with Graham’s X-rays as a reminder that you have confounded the experts! I need hardly add that I am delighted that you have.

Dr Graham will doubtless have told you that occasionally cases of spontaneous cure do occur in cancer. The causes are not known and the instances are few. In your case I am inclined to the view that it may be largely psychological. You underwent a sudden and complete change of environment, coupled with the acquisition of an intense interest — or, since I understand you have recently got married, I should perhaps say interests. This, together with the fact that you became involved in a struggle outside yourself, may well have given you an overwhelming interest in living which you had not before. All this is not strictly within orthodox medicine, but in a case of this sort it is necessary to look beyond the laboratory and the operating theatre. It is perhaps nearer to the miracle than to medicine.

Finally, may I say how happy I am to be able to record in this instance a complete reversal of my expectations. It is cases like yours that place our medical achievements to date in their proper perspective and give to the profession that desire to go on searching diligently for the cure to a terrible disease. I wish you every success and if ever you come to England I hope you will come and see me.

Yours sincerely,

Douglas Maclean-Harvey.

On the wall behind me is a big frame, a sort of montage of pictures and documents. There are the X-ray photographs, before and after, Maclean-Harvey’s letter, a picture of Campbell Number Two before it blew in, a photograph of the dam, the original of my grandfather’s will and the document signed by Roger Fergus returning to me the mineral rights of Campbell’s Kingdom. There in that frame is the whole story of the last six months. Now I have put it down on paper. What the future has in store, I do not know. What does it matter? The great thing is to have a future. We will begin drilling operations up in the Kingdom as soon as the snows melt. Maybe I’ll end up a millionaire. But all the money in the world cannot buy what I have now.