The Blind Spot | Page 3

the day the greatest, perhaps, that we have known. He
had a way of going out before his fellows-- it is the way of genius--and he had gone far,
indeed, before them. If we would trust Dr. Holcomb we have much to live for; our
religion is not all hearsay and there is a great deal in science still unthought of. It is an
unfortunate case; but there is much to be learned in the circumstance that led the great

doctor into the Blind Spot.

I
RHAMDA AVEC
On a certain foggy morning in September, 1905, a tall man wearing a black overcoat and
bearing in one hand a small satchel of dark- reddish leather descended from a Geary
Street tram at the foot of Market Street, San Francisco. It was a damp morning; a mist
was brooding over the city blurring all distinctness.
The man glanced about him; a tall man of trim lines and distinctness and a quick, decided
step and bearing. In the shuffle of descending passengers he was outstanding, with a
certain inborn grace that without the blood will never come from training. Men noticed
and women out of instinct cast curious furtive glances and then turned away; which was
natural, inasmuch as the man was plainly old. But for all that many ventured a second
glance--and wondered.
An old man with the poise of twenty, a strange face of remarkable features, swarthy, of
an Eastern cast, perhaps Indian; whatever the certainty of the man's age there was still a
lingering suggestion of splendid youth. If one persisted in a third or fourth look this
suggestion took an almost certain tone, the man's age dwindled, years dropped from him,
and the quizzical smile that played on the lips seemed a foreboding of boyish laughter.
We say foreboding because in this case it is not mistaken diction. Foreboding suggests
coming evil; the laughter of boys is wholehearted. It was merely that things were not
exactly as they should be; it was not natural that age should be so youthful. The fates
were playing, and in this case for once in the world's history their play was crosswise.
It is a remarkable case from the beginning and we are starting from facts. The man
crossed to the window of the Key Route ferry and purchased a ticket for Berkeley, after
which, with the throng, he passed the turnstile and on to the boat that was waiting. He
took the lower deck, not from choice, apparently, but more because the majority of his
fellow passengers, being men, were bound in this direction. The same chance brought
him to the cigar-stand. The men about him purchased cigars and cigarettes, and as is the
habit of all smokers, strolled off with delighted relish. The man watched them. Had
anyone noticed his eyes he would have noted a peculiar colour and a light of surprise.
With the prim step that made him so distinctive he advanced to the news-stand.
"Pardon me; but I would like to purchase one of those." Though he spoke perfect English
it was in a strange manner, after the fashion of one who has found something that he has
just learned how to use. At the same time he made a suggestion with his tapered fingers
indicating the tobacco in the case. The clerk looked up.
"A cigar, sir? Yes, sir. What will it be?"

"A cigar?" Again the strange articulation. "Ah, yes, that is it. Now I remember. And it has
a little sister, the cigarette. I think I shall take a cigarette, if--if--if you will show me how
to use it."
It was a strange request. The clerk was accustomed to all manner of men and their brands
of humour; he was about to answer in kind when he looked up and into the man's eyes.
He started.
"You mean," he asked, "that you have never seen a cigar or cigarette; that you do not
know how to use them? A man as old as you are."
The stranger laughed. It was rather resentful, but for all that of a hearty taint of humour.
"So old? Would you say that I am as old as that; if you will look again--"
The young man did and what he beheld is something that he could not quite account for:
the strange conviction of this remarkable man; of age melting into youth, of an uncertain
freshness, the smile, not of sixty, but of twenty. The young man was not one to argue,
whatever his wonder; he was first of all a lad of business; he could merely acquiesce.
"The first time! This is the first time you have ever seen a cigar or cigarette?"
The stranger nodded.
"The first time. I have never beheld one of them before this