diff options
Diffstat (limited to '40520-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 40520-0.txt | 7837 |
1 files changed, 7837 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/40520-0.txt b/40520-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ec186e --- /dev/null +++ b/40520-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7837 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40520 *** + + THE SOUL STEALER + + BY C. RANGER-GULL + + Author of "The Serf," "The Harvest of Love," "The Price of Pity," + "A Story of the Stage," etc., etc. + + LONDON + F. V. WHITE & Co., Limited + 14, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. + 1906 + + RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED + + BREAD STREET HILL, E.C., AND + BUNGAY, SUFFOLK. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAP. PAGE + + I. MR. EUSTACE CHARLIEWOOD, MAN ABOUT TOWN 1 + + II. UNEXPECTED ENTRANCE OF TWO LADIES 19 + + III. NEWS OF A REVOLUTION 31 + + IV. THE SECOND LOVER ARRIVES 50 + + V. A CONSPIRACY OF SCIENTISTS 60 + + VI. "WILL YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOUR?" 70 + + VII. ENGLAND'S GREAT SENSATION 89 + + VIII. THE CHIVALROUS BARONET 100 + + IX. GRATITUDE OF MISS MARJORIE POOLE 109 + + X. A MAN ABOUT TOWN PAYS A DEBT 120 + + XI. BEEF TEA AND A PHOSPHATE SOLUTION 130 + + XII. THE TOMB-BOUND MAN 150 + + XIII. LORD MALVIN 160 + + XIV. DONALD MEGBIE SEES POSSIBILITIES 171 + + XV. HAIL TO THE LOVERS! 190 + + XVI. STRANGE OCCURRENCE IN THE TEMPLE 201 + + XVII. MARJORIE AND DONALD MEGBIE 211 + + XVIII. PLANS 222 + + XIX. A DEATH-WARRANT IS PRESENTED TO A PRISONER 230 + + XX. THOUGHTS OF ONE IN DURANCE 248 + + XXI. HOW THEY ALL WENT TO THE HOUSE IN REGENT'S PARK 258 + + XXII. THE DOOM BEGINS 264 + + XXIII. THE DOOM CONTINUES 280 + + XXIV. MR. WILSON GUEST MAKES A MISTAKE 286 + + XXV. AT LAST! 292 + + XXVI. TWO FINAL PICTURES 305 + + + + +THE SOUL STEALER + + + + +CHAPTER I + +MR. EUSTACE CHARLIEWOOD, MAN ABOUT TOWN + + +Upon a brilliant morning in the height of the winter, Mr. Eustace +Charliewood walked slowly up Bond Street. + +The sun was shining brightly, and there was a keen, invigorating snap in +the air which sent the well-dressed people who were beginning to throng +the pavements, walking briskly and cheerily. + +The great shops of one of the richest thoroughfares in the world were +brilliant with luxuries, the tall commissionaires who stood by the heavy +glass doors were continually opening them for the entrance of +fashionable women. + +It was, in short, a typical winter's morning in Bond Street when +everything seemed gay, sumptuous and debonair. + +Mr. Eustace Charliewood was greeted several times by various friends as +he walked slowly up the street. But his manner in reply was rather +languid, and his clean-shaven cheeks lacked the colour that the eager +air had given to most of the pedestrians. + +He was a tall, well-built man, with light close-cropped hair and a large +intelligent face. His eyes were light blue in colour, not very direct in +expression, and were beginning to be surrounded by the fine wrinkles +that middle age and a life of pleasure imprint. The nose was aquiline, +the mouth clean cut and rather full. + +In age one would have put Mr. Charliewood down as four and forty, in +status a man accustomed to move in good society, though probably more +frequently the society of the club than that of the drawing-room. + +When he was nearly at the mouth of New Bond Street, Mr. Charliewood +stopped at a small and expensive-looking hairdresser's and perfumer's, +passed through its revolving glass doors and bowed to a stately young +lady with wonderfully-arranged coils of shining hair, who sat behind a +little glass counter covered with cut-glass bottles of scent and ivory +manicure sets. + +"Good-morning, Miss Carling," he said easily and in a pleasant voice. +"Is Proctor disengaged?" + +"Yes, Mr. Charliewood," the girl answered, "he's quite ready for you if +you'll go up-stairs." + +"Quite well, my dear?" Mr. Charliewood said, with his hand upon the door +which led inwards to the toilette saloons. + +"Perfectly, thank you, Mr. Charliewood. But you're looking a little +seedy this morning." + +He made a gesture with his glove which he had just taken off. + +"Ah well," he said, "very late last night, Miss Carling. It's the price +one has to pay, you know! But Proctor will soon put me right." + +"Hope so, I'm sure," she answered, wagging a slim finger at him. "Oh, +you men about town!" + +He smiled back at her, entered the saloon and mounted some thickly +carpeted stairs upon the left. + +At the top of the stairs a glass door opened into a little ante-room, +furnished with a few arm-chairs and small tables on which _Punch_ and +other journals were lying. Beyond, another door stood half open, and at +the noise of Mr. Charliewood's entrance a short, clean-shaved, +Jewish-looking man came through it and began to help the visitor out of +his dark-blue overcoat lined and trimmed with astrachan fur. + +Together the two men went into the inner room, where Mr. Charliewood +took off his coat and collar and sat down upon a padded chair in front +of a marble basin and a long mirror. + +He saw himself in the glass, a handsome, tired face, the hair too light +to show the greyness at the temples, but hinting at that and growing a +little thin upon the top. The whole face, distinguished as it was, bore +an impress of weariness and dissipation, the face of a man who lived for +material enjoyment, and did so without cessation. + +As he looked at his face, bearing undeniable marks of a late sitting the +night before, he smiled to think that in an hour or so he would be +turned out very different in appearance by the Jewish-looking man in the +frock coat who now began to busy himself with certain apparatus. + +The up-stairs room at Proctor's toilette club was a select haunt of many +young-middle aged men about town. The new American invention known as +"Vibro Massage" was in use there, and Proctor reaped a large harvest by +"freshening up" gentlemen who were living not wisely but too well, +incidentally performing many other services for his clients. The masseur +pushed a wheeled pedestal up to the side of the chair, the top of which +was a large octagonal box of mahogany. Upon the side were various +electric switches, and from the centre of the box a thick silk-covered +wire terminated in a gleaming apparatus of vulcanite and steel which the +operator held in his hand. + +Proctor tucked a towel round his client's neck, rubbed some +sweet-smelling cream all over his face and turned a switch in the side +of the pedestal. + +Immediately an electric motor began to purr inside, like a great cat, +and the masseur brought the machine in his right hand, which looked not +unlike a telephone receiver, down upon the skin of the subject's face. + +What was happening was just this. A little vulcanite hammer at the end +of the machine was vibrating some six thousand times a minute and +pounding and kneading the flesh, so swiftly and silently that +Charliewood felt nothing more than a faint thrill as the hammer was +guided skilfully over the pouches beneath the eyes, and beat out the +flabbiness from the cheeks. + +After some five minutes, Proctor switched off the motor and began to +screw a larger and differently-shaped vulcanite instrument to the end of +the hand apparatus. + +Mr. Charliewood lay back, in a moment of intense physical ease. By means +of the electrodes the recruiting force had vibrated gently through the +nerves. New animation had come into the blood and tissues of the tired +face, and already that sensation of youthful buoyancy, which is the +surest indication of good health, was returning to his dissipated mask. + +"Now then, sir," said Proctor, "I've screwed on a saddle-shaped +electrode, and I'll go up and down the spine, if you please; kindly +stand up." + +Once more the motor hummed, and Mr. Charliewood felt an indescribable +thrill of pleasure as the operator applied straight and angular strokes +of the rapidly vibrating instrument up and down his broad back, +impinging upon the central nerve system of the body and filling him with +vigour. + +"By Jove, Proctor," he said, when the operation was over at last, and +the man was brushing his hair and spraying bay rum upon his face--"by +Jove, this is one of the best things I've ever struck! In the old days +one had to have a small bottle of Pol Roger about half-past eleven if +one had been sitting up late at cards the night before. Beastly bad for +the liver it was. But I never come out of this room without feeling +absolutely fit." + +"Ah, sir," said Mr. Proctor, "it's astonishing what the treatment can +do, and it's astonishing what a lot of gentlemen come to me every day at +all hours. My appointment book is simply filled, sir, filled! And no +gentleman need be afraid now of doing exactly as he likes, till what +hour he likes, as long as he is prepared to come to me to put him right +in the morning." + +After making an appointment for two days ahead, Mr. Charliewood passed +out into the ante-room once more. During the time while he had been +massaged another client had entered and was waiting there, lounging upon +a sofa and smoking a cigarette. + +He was a tall, youngish looking man, of about the same height and build +as Mr. Charliewood, clean-shaved, and with dark red hair. He looked up +languidly as Proctor helped Charliewood into his fur coat. The first +arrival hardly noticed him, but bade the masseur a good-day, and went +out jauntily into Bond Street with a nod and a smile for the pretty girl +who sat behind the counter of the shop. + +It was a different person who walked down Bond Street towards +Piccadilly--a Mr. Charliewood who looked younger in some indefinite way, +who walked with sprightliness, and over whose lips played a slight and +satisfied smile. + +It was not far down Bond Street--now more bright and animated than +ever--to Mr. Charliewood's club in St. James's Street, a small but +well-known establishment which had the reputation of being more select +than it really was. + +Swinging his neatly-rolled umbrella and humming a tune to himself under +his breath, he ran up the steps and entered. A waiter helped him off +with his overcoat, and he turned into the smoking-room to look at the +letters which the porter had handed him, and to get himself in a right +frame of mind for the important function of lunch. + +In a minute or two, with a sherry and bitters by his side and a Parascho +cigarette between his lips he seemed the personification of correctness, +good-humour, and mild enjoyment. + +Very little was known about Eustace Charliewood outside his social life. +He lived in Chambers in Jermyn Street, but few people were ever invited +there, and it was obvious that he must use what was actually his home as +very little more than a place in which to sleep and to take breakfast. +He was of good family, there was no doubt about that, being a member of +the Norfolk Charliewoods, and a second son of old Sir Miles Charliewood, +of King's Lynn. Some people said that Eustace Charliewood was not +received by his family; there had been some quarrel many years before. +This rumour gained general belief, as Charliewood never seemed to be +asked to go down to his father's place for the shooting, or, indeed, +upon any occasion whatever. There was nothing against Eustace +Charliewood. Nobody could associate his name with any unpleasant +scandal, or point out to him as being in any way worse than half a +hundred men of his own position and way of life. Yet he was not very +generally popular--people just liked him, said "Oh, Eustace Charliewood +isn't half a bad sort!" and left it at that. Perhaps a certain mystery +about him and about his sources of income annoyed those people who +would like to see their neighbour's bank-book once a week. + +Charliewood lived fairly well, and everybody said, "How on earth does he +manage it?" the general opinion being that his father and elder brother +paid him an allowance to keep him outside the life of the family. + +About one o'clock Mr. Charliewood went into the club dining-room. The +head waiter hurried up to him, and there was a somewhat protracted and +extremely confidential conversation as to the important question of +lunch. As the waiter would often remark to his underlings, "It's always +a pleasure to do for a gentleman like Mr. Charliewood, because he gives +real thought to his meals, chooses his wine with care and his food with +discrimination, not like them young men we get up from Hoxford and +Cambridge, who'll eat anything you put before 'em, and smacks their lips +knowing over a corked bottle of wine." + +"Very well," Mr. Charliewood said, "Robert, the clear soup, a portion of +the sole with mushrooms, a grilled kidney and a morsel of Camembert. +That will do very well. A half bottle of the '82 Neirsteiner and a Grand +Marnier with my coffee." + +Having decided this important question, Mr. Charliewood looked round the +room to see if any of his particular friends were there. He caught the +eye of a tall, young-looking man with a silly face and very carefully +dressed. This was young Lord Landsend, a peer of twenty-one summers, who +had recently been elected to the Baobab Tree Club, and who had a +profound admiration for the worldly wisdom of his fellow member. + +The young man got up from his table and came over to Mr. Charliewood. + +"I say, Charlie," he said, "I'm going to motor down to Richmond this +afternoon, just to get an appetite for dinner; will you come?" + +Charliewood was about to agree, when a waiter brought him a telegram +upon a silver tray. He opened it, read it, crushed the flimsy pink +Government paper in his hand and said-- + +"Awfully sorry, Landsend, but I've just had a wire making an appointment +which I must keep." + +He smiled as he did so. + +"Ah," said the young gentleman, with a giggle, prodding his friend in +the shoulder with a thin, unsteady finger. "Ah, naughty, naughty!" + +With that he returned to his place, and Mr. Charliewood lunched alone. + +Once he smoothed out the telegram again, and read it with a slight frown +and an anxious expression in his eyes. It ran as follows-- + + _Be here three this afternoon without fail._ + + _GOULDESBROUGH._ + +When Mr. Charliewood had paid his bill and left the dining-room, the +head waiter remarked with a sigh and a shake of the head that his pet +member did not seem to enjoy his food to-day. "Which is odd, Thomas," +concluded that oracle, "because a finer sole-oh-von-blong I never see +served in the Club." + +Charliewood got into a cab, gave the driver the name and address of a +house in Regent's Park, lit a cigar and sat back in deep thought. He +smoked rather rapidly, seeing nothing of the moving panorama of the +streets through which the gondola of London bore him swiftly and +noiselessly. His face wore a sullen and rather troubled expression, not +at all the expression one would have imagined likely in a man who had +been summoned to pay an afternoon call upon so famous and popular a +celebrity as Sir William Gouldesbrough, F.R.S. + +There are some people who are eminent in science, literature, or art, +and whose eminence is only appreciated by a small number of learned +people and stamped by an almost unregarded official approbation. These +are the people who, however good their services may be, are never in any +sense popular names, until many years after they are dead and their +labours for humanity have passed into history and so become recognized +by the crowd. But there are other celebrities who are popular and known +to the "Man in the street." Sir William Gouldesbrough belonged to the +latter class. Everybody knew the name of the famous scientist. His +picture was constantly in the papers. His name was a household word, and +with all his arduous and successful scientific work, he still found time +to be a frequent figure in society, and a man without whom no large +social function, whether public or private, was considered to be +complete. He was the sort of person, in short, of whom one read in the +newspapers--"and among the other distinguished guests were Sir Henry +Irving, Sir Alma Tadema, Mr. Rudyard Kipling, and Sir William +Gouldesbrough." + + +He had caught the popular attention by the fact that he was still a +comparatively young man of five and forty. He had caught the ear and +attention of the scientific world by his extraordinary researches into +the lesser known powers of electric currents. Moreover, and it is an +unusual combination, he was not only an investigator of the lesser known +attributes of electricity who could be ranked with Tessler, Edison, or +Marconi, but he was a psychologist and pathologist of European +reputation. He was said by those who knew to have probed more deeply +into mental processes than almost any man of his time, and for two or +three years now every one who was on the inside track of things knew +that Sir William Gouldesbrough was on the verge of some stupendous +discovery which was to astonish the world as nothing else had astonished +it in modern years. + +Eustace Charliewood appeared to be an intimate friend of this great man. +He was often at his house, they were frequently seen together, and the +reason for this strange combination was always a fruitful subject of +gossip. + +Serious people could not understand what Gouldesbrough saw in a mere +pleasant-mannered and idle clubman, of no particular distinction or +importance. Frivolous society people could not understand how Mr. +Charliewood cared to spend his time with a man who took life seriously +and was always bothering about stupid electricity, while in the same +breath they rather admired Charliewood for being intimate with such a +very important person in England as Sir William Gouldesbrough +undoubtedly was. + +For two or three years now this curious friendship had been a piquant +subject of discussion, and both Sir William's and Mr. Charliewood's most +intimate friends had spent many pleasant hours in inventing this or that +base and disgraceful reason for such a combination. + +Yet as the cab rolled smoothly up Portland Place Mr. Charliewood did not +look happy. He threw his cigar away with a petulant gesture, and watched +a street arab dive for it among the traffic with a sneer of disgust. + +He unbuttoned his heavy astrachan coat; it felt tight across his chest, +and he realized that his nerves were still unstrung, despite the efforts +of the morning. Then he took a cheque-book from his pocket and turned +over the counterfoils till he came to the last balance. He frowned +again, put it away, and once more leant back with a sigh of resignation. + +In a few more minutes the cab drew up at a brick wall which encircled a +large house of red brick, a house built in the Georgian period. + +Only the top of the place could be seen from the street, as the wall was +somewhat unusually high, while the only means of entrance was a green +door let into the brickwork, with a brass bell-pull at one side. + +In a moment or two the door opened to Charliewood's ring, and a +man-servant of the discreet and ordinary type stood there waiting. + +"Good afternoon, sir," he said. "Sir William expects you." + +Charliewood entered and walked along a wide gravel path towards the +portico of the house, chatting casually to the butler as he went. + +It could now be seen that Sir William Gouldesbrough's residence was a +typical mansion of George the First's reign. The brick was mellowed to a +pleasant autumnal tint, the windows, with their white frames and small +panes, were set in mathematical lines down the façade, a flight of stone +steps led up to the square pillared porch, on each side of which a +clumsy stone lion with a distinctly German expression was crouching. The +heavy panelled door was open, and together the guest and the butler +passed into the hall. + +It was a large place with a tesselated floor and high white painted +doors all round. Two or three great bronze urns stood upon marble +pedestals. There was a big leather couch of a heavy and old-fashioned +pattern, and a stuffed bear standing on its hind legs, some eight feet +high, and with a balancing pole in its paws, formed a hat rack. + +The hall was lit from a square domed sky-light in the roof, which showed +that it was surrounded by a gallery, up to which led a broad flight of +stairs with carved balustrades. + +The whole place indeed was old-fashioned and sombre. After the coziness +of the smart little club in St. James's Street, and the brightness and +glitter of the centre of the West End of town, Charliewood felt, as +indeed he always did, a sense of dislike and depression. + +It was all so heavy, massive, ugly, and old-fashioned. One expected to +see grim and sober gentlemen in knee-breeches and powdered hair coming +silently out of this or that ponderous doorway--lean, respectable and +uncomfortable ghosts of a period now vanished for ever. + +"Will you go straight on to the study, sir?" the butler said. "Sir +William expects you." + +Charliewood did not take off his coat, as if he thought that the +interview to which he was summoned need not be unduly prolonged. But +with his hat and umbrella in his hand he crossed the hall to its +farthest left angle beyond the projecting staircase, and opened a green +baize door. + +He found himself in a short passage heavily carpeted, at the end of +which was another door. This he opened and came at once into Sir William +Gouldesbrough's study. + +Directly he entered, he saw that his friend was sitting in an arm-chair +by the side of a large writing-table. + +Something unfamiliar in his host's attitude, and the chair in which he +was sitting, struck him at once. + +He looked again and saw that the chair was slightly raised from the +ground upon a low daïs, and was of peculiar construction. + +In a moment more he started with surprise to see that there was +something extremely odd about Sir William's head. + +A gleam of sunlight was pouring into the room through a long window +which opened on to the lawn at the back of the house. It fell full upon +the upper portion of the scientist's body, and with a muffled expression +of surprise, Mr. Charliewood saw that Sir William was wearing a sort of +helmet, a curved shining head-dress of brass, like the cup of an acorn, +from the top of which a thick black cord rose upwards to a china plug +set in the wall not far away. + +"Good heavens, Gouldesbrough!" he said in uncontrollable surprise, +"what----" + +As he spoke Sir William turned and held up one hand, motioning him to +silence. + +The handsome and intellectual face that was so well known to the public +was fixed and set into attention, and did not relax or change at +Charliewood's ejaculation. + +The warning hand remained held up, and that was all. + +Charliewood stood frozen to the floor in wonder and uneasiness, utterly +at a loss to understand what was going on. The tremor of his nerves +began again, his whole body felt like a pincushion into which +innumerable pins were being pushed. + +Then, with extreme suddenness, he experienced another shock. + +Somewhere in the room, quite close to him, an electric bell, like the +sudden alarm of a clock on a dark dawn, whirred a shrill summons. + +The big man jumped where he stood. + +At the unexpected rattle of the bell, Sir William put his hand up to his +head, touched something that clicked, and lifted the heavy metal cap +from it. He placed it carefully down upon the writing-table, passed his +hand over his face for a moment with a tired gesture, and then turned to +his guest. + +"How do you do?" he said. "Glad to see you, Charliewood." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +UNEXPECTED ENTRANCE OF TWO LADIES + + +For a moment or two Eustace Charliewood did not return his host's +greeting. He was not only surprised by the curious proceeding of which +he had been a witness, but he felt a certain chill also. + +"What the deuce are you up to now, Gouldesbrough?" he said in an uneasy +voice. "Another of your beastly experiments? I wish you wouldn't startle +a fellow in this way." + +Sir William looked keenly at the big man whose face had become curiously +pallid. + +There was a tremendous contrast in the two people in the room. +Gouldesbrough was a very handsome man, as handsome as Charliewood +himself had been in younger days, but it was with an entirely different +beauty. His face was clean shaved, also, but it was dark, clear-cut and +ascetic. The eyes were dark blue, singularly bright and direct in +glance, and shaded by heavy brows. The whole face and poise of the tall +lean body spoke of power, knowledge, and resolution. + +One man was of the earth, earthy; the other seemed far removed from +sensual and material things. Yet, perhaps, a deep student of character, +and one who had gone far into the hidden springs of action within the +human soul, would have preferred the weak, easy-going sensualist, with +all his meannesses and viciousness, to the hard and agate intellect, the +indomitable and lawless will that sometimes shone out upon the face of +the scientist like a lit lamp. + +Charliewood sat down in obedience to a motion of his host's hand. He sat +down with a sigh, for he knew that he had been summoned to Sir William +Gouldesbrough's house to perform yet another duty which was certain to +be distasteful and furtive. + +Yes! there was no hope for it now. For the last few years the man about +town had been under the dominion of a stronger will than his, of a more +cunning, of a more ruthless brain. Little by little he had become +entangled within the net that Gouldesbrough had spread for him. And the +lure had been then and afterwards a lure of money--the one thing +Charliewood worshipped in the world. + +The history of the growth of his secret servitude to this famous man +was a long one. Money had been lent to him, he had signed this or that +paper, he had found his other large debts bought up by the scientist, +and at the end of three years he had found himself willy nilly, body and +soul, the servant of this man, who could ruin him in a single moment and +cast him down out of his comfortable life for ever and a day. + +No living soul knew or suspected that there was any such bond as this +between the two men. Even Charliewood's enemies never guessed the +truth--that he was a sort of jackal, a spy to do his master's bidding, +to execute this or that secret commission, to go and come as he was +ordered. + +As yet all the services which Charliewood had rendered to Sir William, +and for which, be it said, he was excellently paid, were those which, +though they bordered upon the dishonourable and treacherous, never +actually overstepped the borders. + +Gouldesbrough employed Charliewood to find out this or that, to make +acquaintance with one person or another, to lay the foundation, in fact, +of an edifice which he himself would afterwards build upon information +supplied by the clubman. There was no crime in any of these proceedings, +no robbery or black-mail. And what happened after he had done his work +Charliewood neither knew nor cared. Of one thing, however, he was +certain, that whatever the scientist's motives might be--and he did not +seek to probe them--they were not those of the ordinary criminal or +indeed ever bordered upon the criminal at all. All that Charliewood +knew, and realized with impotence and bitterness, was that he had +allowed himself to become a mere tool and spy of this man's, a prober of +secrets, a walker in tortuous by-paths. + +"What did you wire to me for?" Charliewood said in a sulky voice. "What +do you want me to do now?" + +Sir William looked quickly at his guest, and there was a momentary gleam +of ill-temper in his eyes, but he answered smoothly enough. + +"My dear Charliewood, I wish you wouldn't take that tone. Surely we have +been associated too long together for you to speak to me in that way +now. It has suited your convenience to do certain things for me, and it +has suited my convenience to make it worth your while to do them. There +is the whole matter. Please let's be friendly, as we always have been." + +Charliewood shrugged his shoulders. + +"You know very well, Gouldesbrough," he said, "that I am in your hands +and have got to do anything you ask me in reason. However, I don't want +to insist on that aspect of the question if you don't. What did you wire +to me for?" + +"Well," Sir William said, passing a cigar-box over to the other, though +he did not smoke himself, "there is a certain man that I am interested +in. I don't know him personally, though I know something about him. I +want to know him, and I want to know everything I can about him too." + +"I suppose," Charliewood answered, "that there is no difficulty for you +in getting to know anybody you want to?" He said it with a slight sneer. + +"Oh, of course not," Sir William answered, "but still in this case I +want you to get to know him first. You can easily do this if you wish, +you are sure to have some mutual acquaintances. When you get to know him +make yourself as pleasant as you can be to him--and nobody can do that +more gracefully than yourself, my dear boy. Become his intimate friend, +if possible, and let me know as much as you can about his habits and +objects in life. I don't want you to spare any expense in this matter if +it is necessary to spend money, and of course you will draw upon me for +all you require in the matter." + +Charliewood held up his cigar and looked steadily at the crust of white +ash which was forming at the end. + +"What's the man's name?" he asked without moving his eyes. + +"His name," said Sir William lightly, "is Rathbone, a Mr. Guy Rathbone. +He is a barrister and has chambers in the Temple. A youngish man, I +understand, of about seven and twenty." + +At the name Charliewood gave a momentary start. He allowed a slight +smile to come upon his lips, and it was not a pleasant smile. + +Gouldesbrough saw it, flushed a little and moved uneasily, feeling that +although this man was his servant there were yet disadvantages in +employing him, and that he also could sting when he liked. + +Directly Sir William had mentioned the name of the person on whose +actions and life, not to put too fine a point on it, he was ordering his +henchman to become a spy, Charliewood knew the reason. He realized in an +instant what was the nature of the interest Sir William Gouldesbrough +took in Mr. Guy Rathbone, barrister-at-law. + +The famous scientist, long, it was said in society, a man quite +impervious to the attractions of the other sex and the passion of love, +had but a few months ago become engaged. + +Wealthy as he was, distinguished, handsome and attractive in his manner, +there had not been wanting ladies who would have very gladly shared and +appropriated all these advantages. Like any other unmarried man in his +desirable position, the scientist had been somewhat pursued in many +drawing-rooms. Of late, however, the pursuit had slackened. Match-making +mothers and unappropriated daughters seemed to have realized that here +was a citadel they could not storm. Six months ago, therefore, society +had been all the more startled to hear of Sir William's engagement to +Miss Marjorie Poole, the only daughter of old Lady Poole of Curzon +Street. + +Marjorie Poole was the daughter of a rather poor baronet who had died +some years before, the title going to a cousin. Lady Poole was left with +a house in Curzon Street and a sufficient income for her own life, but +that was all. And among many of the women who hunt society for a husband +for their daughters, as a fisherman whips a stream for trout, the +dowager was one of the most conspicuous. + +It was said that she had angled for Sir William with an alertness and +unwearying pursuit which was at last crowned by success. More charitable +people, and especially those who knew and liked Miss Poole, said that +the girl would never have lent herself to any schemes of her mother's +unless she had been genuinely fond of the man to whom she was engaged. +There had been much talk and speculation over the engagement at first, +a speculation which had in its turn died away, and which during the last +few weeks had been again revived by certain incidents. + +Eustace Charliewood, whose whole life and business it was to gather and +retail society gossip, was very well aware of the reason which made +people once more wag their heads and hint this or that about the +Gouldesbrough engagement. + +Mr. Guy Rathbone had appeared upon the scene, a young barrister of good +family but of no particular fortune. Several times Mr. Rathbone had been +seen skating with Miss Poole at Prince's. At this or that dance--Sir +William Gouldesbrough did not go to dances--Rathbone had danced a good +deal with Miss Poole. Many envious and linx-like eyes had watched them +for some weeks, and men were beginning to say in the clubs that "young +Rathbone is going to put the scientific Johnny's nose out of joint." + +It was this knowledge which caused the little sneering smile to appear +on Charliewood's face, and it gave him pleasure to detect the human +weakness of jealousy in the inscrutable man who held him so tightly in +his grip. + +"Well, all right," Charliewood said at length. "I'll do what you want." + +"That's a good fellow," Sir William answered, smiling genially, his +whole face lighting up and becoming markedly attractive as it did so, +"you've always been a good friend to me, Charliewood." + +"My banking account is very low just at present," the other went on. + +"Then I'll write you a cheque at once," Sir William answered, getting up +from his chair and going to the writing-table in the corner of the room. + +Charliewood's face cleared a little. Then he noticed his cigar had been +burning all down one side. He dropped it into an ash-tray and put his +hand in his coat pocket to find a cigarette. + +He took out an ordinary silver case, when his eye fell upon the crest +engraved upon the cover. He started and looked again, turning it so that +the light fell full upon it. + +The crest of the Charliewood family was a hand with a battle-axe and the +motto, "Ne Morare," and in the usual custom it was engraved upon +Charliewood's own case. + +But this was not the Charliewood crest. It was a wyvern charged on a +shield, and the motto consisted of the single word "GARDEZ." + +He gave a startled exclamation. + +"What's the matter?" Sir William said, turning round sharply. + +"I've got some other fellow's cigarette-case," Charliewood answered in +amazement, opening it as he did so. + +There was only one cigarette in the case, but there were several +visiting-cards in one compartment, and moreover the name of the owner +was cut in the inside of the lid. + +The case dropped from Charliewood's fingers with a clatter, and he grew +quite pale. + +"What is it?" his host inquired again. + +"Have you been playing some infernal trick on me, Gouldesbrough?" +Charliewood said. + +"No; why?" + +"Because this cigarette-case, by some strange chance, is the +cigarette-case of the man we've been talking about, this Guy Rathbone!" + +He stood up, thrusting his hands deep into the pockets of the fur coat +as he did so. Then he pulled out a letter, stamped and addressed and +obviously ready for the post. + +"Good heavens!" he said, "here's something else. It's a letter for the +post." + +"Who is it addressed to?" Sir William asked in a curious voice. + +Charliewood looked at it and started again. + +"As I live," he answered, "it's addressed to Miss Poole, 100A, Curzon +Street!" + +There was a curious silence for a moment or two. Both men looked at +each other, and mingled astonishment and alarm were on the face of +either. The whole thing seemed uncanny. They seemed, while concocting +something like a plot, to have trodden unawares into another. + +Suddenly Charliewood stamped his foot upon the ground and peeled off his +overcoat. + +"I've got it," he cried. "Why, of course I've seen the very man myself +this morning. This is his coat, not mine. I went to a hairdresser's this +morning and left my coat in the ante-room while I was going through a +massage treatment. When I came out there was a man waiting there for his +turn, and I must have taken his coat in exchange for mine. And the man +was this Mr. Guy Rathbone, of course. You know these dark blue coats +lined with astrachan are quite ordinary, everybody is wearing them this +year. And I noticed, by Jove, that the thing seemed a little tight in +the cab! It's about the oddest coincidence that I've ever come across in +my life!" + +Sir William bowed his head in thought for a minute or two. + +"Well, this is the very best opportunity you could have, my dear +fellow," he said, "of making the man's acquaintance. Of course you can +take him back the coat and the cigarette-case at once." + +"And the letter?" Charliewood said swiftly. "The letter to Miss Poole?" + +Sir William looked curiously at his guest. + +"I think," he said slowly, "that I'll just spend half-an-hour with this +letter first. Then you can take it away with the other things. I assure +you that it will look just the same as it does now." + +Charliewood shrugged his shoulders. + +"Have it your own way," he said contemptuously, "but don't ask _me_ to +open any letters to a lady, that's all." + +Sir William flushed up and was about to make an angry reply, when the +door of the study was suddenly thrown open and they saw the butler +standing there. + +There was a rustle of skirts in the passage. + +"Lady Poole and Miss Poole, sir," said the butler. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +NEWS OF A REVOLUTION + + +Marjorie and Lady Poole came into the room. For two at least of the +people there it was an agonizing moment. But a second before, Sir +William Gouldesbrough had been proposing to steal and open a letter +written by another man to his _fiancée_. But a second before, Mr. +Eustace Charliewood, the well-known society man, had sullenly acquiesced +in the proposal. And now here was Marjorie Poole confronting them. + +"We thought we'd come to tea, William," Lady Poole said effusively, +going forward to shake hands with her future son-in-law. "Ah, Mr. +Charliewood, how do you do?" She gave him a bright nod, and he turned to +Marjorie, while her mother was shaking hands with the scientist. + +Charliewood's face was flushed a deep red, and his hand trembled so that +the tall girl looked at him in some surprise. + +Marjorie Poole was a maiden for whom many men had sighed. The oval face +with its pure olive complexion, the large brown eyes, clear as a forest +pool, the coiled masses of hair, the colour of deeply ripened corn, made +up a personality of singular distinction and charm. She was the sort of +girl of whom people asked, "Who is she?" And if younger sons and other +people who knew that they could never win and wear her, said that she +was a little too reserved and cold, it was only a prejudiced way of +expressing her complete grace and ease of manner. + +"How are you, Mr. Charliewood?" she said in a clear, bell-like voice. "I +haven't seen you since the Carr's dance." + +"Well, to tell the truth, Miss Poole," Charliewood answered with a voice +that had a singular tremor in it, "you startled me out of my wits when +you came in. Just a moment before, Sir William had mentioned your name, +and we were both thinking of you when, as quick as one of those +ridiculous entrances on the stage, pat upon the very word, the butler +threw open the door and you came in." + +"Oh, a stage entrance!" Marjorie answered. "I don't like stage +entrances;" and turning away she went up to her _fiancé_, making it +quite clear that, whatever her opinions about the conventions of the +boards might be, she did not like Mr. Charliewood. + +The big, light-haired man stayed for a moment or two, made a few +conventional remarks, and then wished his host farewell. + +As he crossed the hall he began mechanically to put on the heavy +astrachan coat upon his arm, then, with a muttered curse which surprised +the butler, he took it off again and hurriedly left the house. + +"Well, and how are you, William?" said Lady Poole, sitting down by the +fire. "Are you going to give us some tea? We have been paying calls, and +I told Marjorie that we would just come on and see how you were, in case +you might be in. And how is the electricity going? Why don't you invent +a flying-machine? I'm sure it would be more useful than the things you +do invent. How charming it would be to step out of one's bedroom window +into one's aëriel brougham and tell the man to fly to the Savoy!" + +Gouldesbrough did not immediately reply, but old Lady Poole was used to +this. + +She was a tall, florid old thing, richly dressed, with an ample and +expansive manner. Now that Sir William had proposed and the forthcoming +marriage was an accepted thing, the good lady felt her duty was done. +Having satisfied herself of Sir William's position, his banking account +and his general eligibility, she cared for nothing else, and she had +grown quite accustomed to the little snubs she received from his hands +from time to time. + +Gouldesbrough was looking at Marjorie. His deep blue eyes had leapt up +from their usual intense calm into flame. The thin-cut lips were +slightly parted, the whole man had become humanized and real in a single +moment. + +The sinister suggestion had dropped from him as a cloak is thrown off, +and he remembered nothing of the plot he had been hatching, but only saw +before him the radiant girl he adored with all the force of his nature +and all the passion of a dark but powerful soul, to which love had never +come before. + +"How are you, dearest?" he said anxiously. "Do you know that I haven't +heard from you or seen you for nearly four days? Tell me all that you +have been doing, all that you have been thinking." + +"Four days, is it?" Lady Poole broke in. "Well, you know, my dear +William, you will have plenty of time with Marjorie in the future, you +mustn't attempt to monopolize her just at present. There have been so +many engagements, and I'm sure you have been entirely happy with the +electricity, haven't you? Such a comfort, I think, to have a hobby. It +gives a real interest in life. And I'm sure, when a hobby like yours has +proved so successful, it's an additional advantage. I have known so +many men who have been miserable because they have never had anything to +do to amuse them. And unless they take up wood-carving or fretwork or +something, time hangs so heavily, and they become a nuisance to their +wives. Poor Sir Frederick only took up tact as a hobby. Though that was +very useful at a party, it was horribly boring in private life. One +always felt he understood one too well!" + +Up to the present Marjorie had said nothing. She seemed slightly +restless, and the smile that played about her lips was faint and +abstracted. Her thoughts seemed elsewhere, and the scrutiny of the deep +blue eyes seemed slightly to unnerve her. + +At that moment the butler entered, followed by a footman carrying a +tea-table. + +Marjorie sank down with a sigh of relief. + +"I'm so tired," she said in a quiet voice. "Mother's been dragging me +about to all sorts of places. William, why do you have that horrid man, +Eustace Charliewood, here? He always seems about the house like a big +tame cat. I detest him." + +Gouldesbrough winced at the words. He had put his hand into the +side-pocket of his coat, and his fingers had fallen upon a certain +letter. Ah! why, indeed, did he have Charliewood for a friend? + +His answer was singularly unconvincing, and the girl looked at him in +surprise. He was not wont to speak thus, with so little directness. + +"Oh, I don't know, dear," he answered. "He's useful, you know. He +attends to a lot of things for me that I'm too busy to look after +myself." + +Again Marjorie did not answer. + +"What have you been doing, William?" she said at length, stirring the +tea in her cup. + +"I've been thinking about you principally," he answered. + +She frowned a little. "Oh, I don't mean in that way," she answered +quickly. "Tell me about real things, important things. What are you +working at now? How is your work going?" + +He noticed that something like enthusiasm had crept into her voice--that +she took a real interest in his science. His heart throbbed with anger. +It was not thus that he wished to hear her speak. It was he himself, not +his work, that he longed with all his heart and soul this stately damsel +should care about. + +But, resolute always in will, completely master of himself and his +emotion, he turned at once and began to give her the information which +she sought. + +And as he spoke his voice soon began to change. It rang with power. It +became vibrant, thrilling. There was a sense of inordinate strength and +confidence in it. + +While old Lady Poole leant back in her chair with closed eyes and a +gentle smile playing about her lips, enjoying, in fact, a short and +well-earned nap, the great scientist's passionate voice boomed out into +the room and held Marjorie fascinated. + +She leant forward, listening to him with strained attention--her lips a +little parted, her face alight with interest, with eagerness. + +"You want to hear, dearest," he said, "you want to hear? And to whom +would I rather tell my news? At whose feet would I rather lay the +results of all I am and have done? Listen! Even to you I cannot tell +everything. Even to you I cannot give the full results of the problems I +have been working at for so many years. But I can tell you enough to +hold your attention, to interest you, as you have never been interested +before." + +He began to speak very slowly. + +"I have done something at last, after years of patient working and +thought, which it is not too much to say will revolutionize the whole of +modern life--will revolutionize the whole of life, indeed, as it has +never been changed before. All the other things I have done and made, +all the results of my scientific work have been but off-shoots of this +great central idea, which has been mine since I first began. The other +things that have won me fame and fortune were discovered upon the way +towards the central object of my life. And now, at last, I find myself +in full possession of the truth of all my theories. In a month or two +from now my work will be perfected, then the whole world will know what +I have done. And the whole world will tremble, and there will be fear +and wonder in the minds of men and women, and they will look at each +other as if they recognized that humanity at last was waking out of a +sleep and a dream." + +"Is it so marvellous as all that?" she said almost in a whisper, awed by +the earnestness of his manner. + +"I am no maker of phrases," he replied, "nor am I eloquent. I cannot +tell you how marvellous it is. The one great citadel against which human +ingenuity and time have beaten in vain since our first forefathers, is +stormed at last! In my hands will shortly be the keys of the human soul. +No man or woman will have a secret from me. The whole relation of +society will be changed utterly." + +"What is it? What is it?" she asked with a light in her eyes. "Have you +done what mother said in jest? Have you indeed finally conquered the +air?" + +He waved his hand with a scornful gesture. + +"Greater far--greater than that," he answered. "Such a vulgar and +mechanical triumph is not one I would seek. In a material age it is +perhaps a great thing for this or that scientist to invent a means of +transit quicker and surer than another. But what is it, after all? Mere +accurate scientific knowledge supplemented by inventive power. No! Such +inventions as the steam-engine, printing, gun-powder, are great in their +way, but they have only revolutionized the surface of things; the human +soul remains as it was before. What I now know is a far, far loftier and +more marvellous thing." + +In his excitement he had risen and was bending over her. + +Now she also rose, and stared into his face with one hand upon his arm. + +"Oh, tell me," she said, "what in life can be so strange, so terrible in +its effects as this you speak of?" + +"Listen," he answered once more. "You know what LIGHT is? You know that +it can be split up into its component parts by means of the prism in the +spectroscope?" + +"Every child knows that to-day," she answered. + +"Good!" he replied. And he went on. "I am putting this in the very +simplest possible language. I want you to see the broadest, barest, +simplest outlines. Do you know anything of the human mind? What should +you say hypnotism was, for instance, in ordinary words?" + +"Surely," she replied, "it is the power of one brain acting upon +another." + +"Exactly," he said, "and in what way? How is a brain, not physically +touching another brain, able to influence it?" + +"By magnetism," she replied, "by"--she hesitated for a word--"by a sort +of current passing from one brain to another." + +He held out both his hands in front of him. They were clasped, and she +saw that his wrists were shaking. He was terribly excited. + +"Yes," he went on, his voice dropping lower and lower and becoming even +more intense, "you have said exactly the truth. The brain is a +marvellous instrument, a sensitive instrument, an electric instrument +which is constantly giving out strange, subtle, and hitherto +uninvestigated currents. It is like the transmitter at the top of Signor +Marconi's wireless telegraphy station. Something unseen goes out into +the air, and far away over the Mother of Oceans something answers to its +influence. That is exactly what happens with the human brain. Countless +experiments have proved it, the scientists of the world are agreed." + +"Then----?" she said. + +"Supposing I had discovered how to collect these rays or vibrations, for +that is the better word, these delicate vibrations which come from the +human brain?" + +"I think I begin to see," Marjorie said slowly, painfully, as if the +words were forced from her and she spoke them under great emotion. "I +think I begin to see a little light." + +"Ah," he answered, "you are always above ordinary women. There is no one +in the world like you. Your brain is keen, subtle, strong. You were +destined for me from the first." + +Once more, even in the midst of her excitement, a shade passed over her +face. She touched him on the arm again. + +"Go on! Tell me! Not this, not that. Tell me about the work!" + +"I," he repeated, "I alone of all men in the world have learnt how to +collect the invisible vibrations of thought itself. Now, remember what I +told you at first. I mentioned Light, the way in which Light can be +passed through a prism, split up into its component parts, and give the +secret of its composition to the eye of the scientist. Not only can _I_ +collect the mysterious vibrations of the human brain, but _I_ can pass +them through a spectroscope more marvellous than any instrument ever +dreamt of in the history of the world. I can take the vibrations of +thought, and discover their consistency, their strength, their MEANING." + +She stared at him incredulously. "Even yet," she said, "I fail to see +the ultimate adaptation of all this. I realize that you have discovered +a hitherto unproved truth about the mechanism of thought. That is an +achievement which will send your name ringing down the avenues of the +future. But there seems to be something behind all you are telling me. +You have more to say. What is the _practical_ outcome of all this, this +theoretical fact?" + +"It is this," he answered. "I hold in my hands the power to know what +this or that person, be it a king upon his throne, a girl on her wedding +day, or a criminal in the dock, is thinking at any given moment." + +She started from him with a little cry. "Oh no," she said, and her face +had grown very white indeed. "Oh no, God would not allow it. It is a +power only God has." + +He laughed, and in his laugh she heard something that made her shrink +back still further. It was a laugh such as Lucifer might have laughed, +who defied a Power which he would not acknowledge to be greater than +his. + +"You will never do that," she said, "wonderful as you are." + +"Marjorie," he answered, "I am a man with a brain that theorizes, but +never ventures upon a statement that cannot be proved by fact. If I tell +you this, if I hint broadly at the outcome of my life's work, I am doing +so, believe me, because I have chapter and verse for all I say, because +I can prove that it has passed from the dim realms of theory and of hope +into the brilliant daylight of actual achievement!" + +She stared at him. His words were too much for her mind to grasp +immediately. + +It was an intense moment. + +But, as in real life intense moments generally are, it was broken by a +curious interruption. + +A voice came thickly from the arm-chair by the fire, where old Lady +Poole had been reclining in placid sleep. It was the strange voice of +one who sleeps, without expression, but perfectly distinct. + +"I will not have it, cook--(indistinguishable murmur)--explained when I +engaged you--will _not_ have men in the kitchen!" + +Sir William and Marjorie looked at each other for a moment with blank +faces. Then, all overstrung as they were, the absurdity of the +occurrence struck them at the same moment, and they began to laugh +softly together. + +It was a little pleasant and very human interlude in the middle of these +high matters, and at that moment the great man felt that he was nearer +to Marjorie than he had been before at any other moment of the +afternoon. She no longer hung entranced upon his impassioned and +wonderful words, she laughed with him quite quietly and simply. + +Lady Poole snored deeply, and no longer vocalized the drama of her +domestic dream. + +Suddenly Marjorie turned back once more to Sir William. + +"It's only mother dreaming about one of the servants we have had to send +away," she said. "What a stupid interruption! Now, go on, go on!" + +Her voice recalled him to his marvellous story. + +"Tell me what is the actual achievement," she said. + +"It is this. When you speak into a telephone the vibrations of your +voice agitate a sensitive membrane, and by means of electricity the +vibrations are conveyed to almost any distance. When Madame Melba sings +into the gramophone, her voice agitates the membrane, which in its turn +agitates a needle, which in its turn again makes certain marks upon a +waxen disc." + +"Yes, go on, go on!" + +"When I put a certain instrument upon the head of a man or a woman, when +I surround the field of emanation by a shield which captures the +vibrations, they are conducted to a receiver more delicate and sensitive +than anything which has ever been achieved by scientific process +before. That receiver collects these vibrations and can transmit them, +just in the manner of a telephone or telegraph wire, for almost any +distance." + +"And at the other end?" Marjorie asked. + +"It has been a difficulty of ten long, anxious, unwearying years." + +"And now?" + +"Now that difficulty has been finally overcome." + +"Therefore?" + +"What a person thinks in London can be sent in vibrations along a wire +to Paris." + +"I see. I understand! But when there they can only be transmitted to +another brain, of course. You mean that you have invented a more +marvellous system of telegraphy than has ever been invented before. For +instance, I could sit here in this room and communicate with you with +absolute freedom in Paris. How wonderful that is! What a triumphant +achievement! But--but, William, marvellous as it is, you do not +substantiate what you said just now. The secrets of thought may be +yours, but only when the sender wills it." + +"Ah," he answered, with a deep note of meaning coming into his voice. +"If I had only discovered what you say, I should have discovered much. +But I have gone far, far away from this. I have done much, much more. +And in that lies the supreme value of my work." + +Once more they were standing together, strained with wonder, with +amazement and triumph passing between them like the shuttle of a loom; +once more she was caught up into high realms of excitement and dawning +knowledge, the gates of which had never opened to her brain before. + +"To come back to the phonograph," Sir William said. "The marks are made +upon the waxen disc, and they are afterwards reproduced in sound, +recorded upon metal plates to remain for ever as a definite reproduction +of the human voice. Now, and here I come to the final point of all, I +have discovered a means by which thought can be turned into actual +vision, into an actual expression of itself for every one to read. What +I mean is this. I have discovered the process, and I have invented the +machine by which, as a person thinks, the thought can be conveyed to any +distance along the wire, can be received at the other end by an +instrument which splits it up into this or that vibration. And these +vibrations actuate upon a machine by the spectroscope, by the bioscope, +which show them upon a screen in the form of either pictures or of words +as the thoughts of the thinker are at that moment sent out by the brain +in words or pictures." + +"Then what does this mean?" + +"It means that once my apparatus, whether by consent of the subject or +by force, is employed to collect the thought vibrations, then no secrets +can be hidden. The human soul must reveal itself. Human personality is +robbed of its only defence. There will be no need to try the criminal of +the future. He must confess in spite of himself. The inviolability of +thought is destroyed. The lonely citadel of self exists no longer. The +pious hypocrite must give his secret to the world, and sins and sinners +must confess to man what only God knew before." + +Marjorie sat down in her chair and covered her face with her hands. +Various emotions thronged and pulsed through her brain. The stupendous +thing that this man had done filled her with awe for his powers, with +terror almost, but with a great exultation also. She did not love him, +she knew well that she had never loved him, but she realized her +influence over him. She knew that this supreme intellect was hers to do +with as she would. She knew that if he was indeed, as he said, master of +the world, she was mistress of his mind, she was the mistress of him. +The mysterious force of his love, greater than any other earthly force +which he could capture or control, had made him, who could make the +minds of others his slaves and instruments, the slave of her. + +Yes! LOVE! That, after all, was the greatest force in the whole world. +Here was a more conclusive proof than perhaps any woman had ever had +before in the history of humanity. + +Love! Even while the inmost secrets of nature were wrested from her by +such a man as this, love was still his master, love was still the motive +power of the world. + +And as she thought that, she forgot for a moment all her fears and all +her wonder, in a final realization of what all the poets had sung and +all the scientists striven to destroy. Her blood thrilled and pulsed +with the knowledge, but it did not thrill or pulse for the man whose +revelations had confirmed her in it. The man whom she had promised to +marry was the man who had confirmed her in the knowledge of the truth. +And all he had said and done filled her with a strange joy such as she +had never known before. + +At that moment Sir William came towards her. He had switched on the +electric light, and the room was now brilliantly illuminated. In his +hand he held a large oval thing of brass, bright and shining. + +At that moment, also, old Lady Poole woke up with a start. + +"Dear me," she said, "I must have taken forty winks. Well, I suppose, my +dear children, that I have proved my absolute inability to be _de trop_! +What are you doing, William?" + +"It's a little experiment," Sir William said, "one of my inventions, +Lady Poole. Marjorie, I want you to take off your hat." + +Marjorie did so. With careful and loving hands the great man placed the +metal helmet upon her head. The girl let him do so as if she were in a +dream. Then Sir William pressed a button in the wall. In a few seconds +there was an answering and sudden ring of an electric bell in the study. + +"Now, Marjorie!" Sir William said, "now, all I have told you is being +actually proved." + +He looked at her face, which flowered beneath the grotesque and shining +cap of metal. + +"Now, Marjorie, everything you are thinking is being definitely recorded +in another place." + +For a moment or two the significance of his words did not penetrate to +her mind. + +Then she realized them. + +Lady Poole and the scientist saw the rapt expression fade away like a +lamp that is turned out. Horror flashed out upon it, horror and fear. +Her hands went up to her head; she swept off the brilliant helmet and +flung it with a crash upon the ground. + +Then she swayed for a moment and sank into a deep swoon. + +She had been thinking of Mr. Guy Rathbone, barrister-at-law, and what +her thoughts were, who can say? + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE SECOND LOVER ARRIVES + + +On the evening of the day in which she had fainted, Marjorie Poole sat +alone in the drawing-room of her mother's house in Curzon Street. + +It was a large, handsome place, furnished in the Empire style with +mirrors framed in delicate white arabesques, and much gilding woven into +the pattern. The carpet was a great purple expanse covered with laurel +wreaths of darker purple. + +There was but little furniture in the big, beautiful place, but it was +all airy, fantastic and perfect of its kind. There was a general air of +repose, of size and comely proportion in this delightful room. Here, an +old French clock clicked merrily, there were two or three inlaid +cabinets, and upon the walls were a few copies of some of Watteau's +delightful scenes in the old courtly gardens of Versailles. + +Marjorie wore a long tea-gown, and she was sitting quite alone in the +brilliantly lit place, with a book in her hand. The book was in her +hand indeed, but she was not reading it. Her eyes were fixed upon the +opposite wall, though they saw nothing there. Her thoughts were busy and +her face was pale. + +She had recovered from her swoon in a minute or two, and found her +mother fussing round her and her lover generally skilful in doing all +that was necessary. And a short time afterwards she had driven home with +Lady Poole. + +What she had heard, the very strain of hearing and being so intensely +interested in it, had taken her strength away. Then had come the words +when Sir William told her that the very thoughts that she was thinking +at that moment were being in some mysterious way recorded and known. And +she knew that she had been thinking of another man, thinking of him as +an engaged girl should never think. + +But as she had returned to consciousness, Sir William had told her +kindly and simply that if she had feared her thoughts, whatever they +might be, were known to him, she need fear no longer. "There was no +one," he said, "observing any record of vibrations from your dear mind. +Do you think that I should have allowed that, Marjorie? How could you +think it of me?" + +She had driven home relieved but very weary, and feeling how complex +life was, how irrevocable the mistakes one made from impulse or lack of +judgment really were. + +Ambition! Yes, it was that that had brought her to where she was now. +Her heart had never been touched by any one. She never thought herself +capable of a great love for a man. From all her suitors she had chosen +the one who most satisfied her intellectual aspirations, who seemed to +her the one that could give her the highest place, not only in the +meaningless ranks of society, but in and among those who are the elect +and real leaders of the world. + +And now? Well, now she was waiting because Guy Rathbone was coming to +the house. + +A letter from him had arrived just before dinner. She had expected it by +an earlier post, the post by which all his letters usually came, and she +had been impatient at its non-arrival. But it had come at last, and she +was sitting in the drawing-room waiting for him now. + +He was on intimate terms in that house, and came and went almost as he +would, old Lady Poole liking to have young people round her, and feeling +that now Marjorie's future was satisfactorily settled, there was no need +to bar her doors to people she was fond of, but who, before the +engagement, she would have regarded as dangerous. + +Even as Marjorie was thinking of him, the butler showed Guy Rathbone +into the room. + +Marjorie got up, flushing a little as she saw him. + +"Mother's very tired," she said; "she's not well to-night, and so she's +gone to bed. Perhaps you'd rather not stay." + +He sat down, after shaking hands, without an answer in words. He looked +at her, and that was his answer. + +He was a tall young man, as tall as Sir William, but more largely built, +with the form and figure not of the student but rather of the athlete. +His face was clean-shaven, frank, open and boyishly good-looking; but a +pair of heavy eyebrows hung over eyes that were alert and bright, +robbing the upper part of his face of a too juvenile suggestion. His +head was covered with dark red curls, and he had the walk and movements +of perfect health and great physical power, that had once led a +dyspeptic friend at the Oxford and Cambridge Club to remark of him, that +"Rathbone is the sort of fellow who always suggests that he could eat +all the elephants of India and pick his teeth with the spire of +Strasburg Cathedral afterwards." + +There was force about him, the force of clean, happy youth, health, and +a good brain. It was not the concentrated force and power of Sir +William, but it was force nevertheless. + +And as he came into the room, Marjorie felt her whole heart go out to +him, leaping towards him in his young and manly beauty. She knew that +here indeed was the one man that would satisfy her life for ever and a +day. He was not famous, he was clever without having a great intellect, +but for some reason or other he was the man for her. She knew it, and +she feared that he was beginning to know she knew it. + +He was sitting in the chair, when he turned and looked her straight in +the face. + +"I have come to-night," he said, "to say something very serious, very +serious indeed. I am glad Lady Poole isn't here, just for to-night, +Marjorie." + +"I've told you you oughtn't to say Marjorie," she said. + +"Well," he answered, "you've called me Guy for a good long time now, and +one good turn deserves another." + +He smiled, showing a perfect and even row of teeth, a smile so simple, +hearty and spontaneous that once more that furiously beating heart of +hers seems striving to burst its physical bonds and leap to him. + +Then he passed his hand through his hair, and his face immediately +became full of perplexity and doubt. + +"I should have been here before," he said, "only I was detained. I met +a man who happened to take my overcoat to-day in mistake for his own +from the hairdresser's. He turned out to be a decent sort of chap, and I +couldn't get rid of him at once. But that's by the way. I've come here +to say something which is awfully difficult to say. I've fought it out +with myself, and I've wondered if I should be a bounder in saying it. +I'm afraid I'm going to say something that a gentleman oughtn't to say. +I don't know. I really don't know. But something within tells me that if +I don't say it I should be doing something which I should regret all my +life long. But you must forgive me, and if after what I've said to you +you feel that I oughtn't to have done so, I do beg you will forgive me, +Marjorie. Will you forgive me?" + +Her voice was very low. "Yes," she said in almost a whisper. + +"You are engaged to another man," he said. "I don't know him, I have +never seen him. I know he is a great swell and very important. A year +ago, if anybody had told me that I was going to talk to a girl who was +engaged to another man as I'm going to talk to you, I should probably +have knocked him down. Shows one never knows, doesn't it, Marjorie?" + +She began to breathe quickly. Her breast rose and fell, her agitation +was very manifest. The tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. She +hated herself for this visible emotion; she did her best to control it, +but it was utterly impossible, and she knew that she was telling him +even now what she knew also he most desired to hear. + +He got up from his chair, big, forceful, manly and young, and was by her +side in a moment. + +"Marjorie," he said, "dear, sweet girl, I can't help telling you, +however wrong it may be. I love you, I love you deeply and dearly. I am +quite certain, I don't know how, but I'm certain, and nothing in the +world could persuade me I wasn't, that I'm the man who was made for you, +and that you're the girl who was made for me. I can't put it poetically, +I don't know how to say it beautifully, as the Johnnies say it in the +novels and on the stage, but, darling, I love you." + +There was a catch and a break in his voice; a sob had come into it. + +Then he went on. "Do you know, Marjorie, I can't help thinking somehow +that you must have made a mistake--" He was kneeling now by the side of +her chair. His arms stole round her, she made no motion to forbid it. It +was a moment of absolute surrender, a surrender which she had no power +to withstand. + +And now he held her in his strong arms, his kisses fell upon her lips, +her head was on his shoulder, she was sobbing quietly and happily. With +no word of avowal spoken, she gave herself to him at that moment. He had +felt, and his whole body was shaken with joy and triumph, that come what +might, she was his in spirit if indeed she could never be his in any +other way. + +It was a great moment for those two young lives. Young man and maid, +knowing themselves and each other for the first time. It wasn't +romantic, exactly, there was nothing very striking about it, perhaps, +but it was sweet--ah! unutterably sweet! + + * * * * * + +He was walking about the room. + +"You must tell him," he said, "dearest. You'll have to go through so +much more than I shall, and it cuts me to the heart to think of it. +You'll have to face all the opposition of everybody, of your people, of +society and the world generally. And I can't help; you'll have to go +through this alone. It's a bitter thought that I can't help you. Dear, +dare you fight through this for me? Are you strong enough? are you brave +enough?" + +She went up to him, and placed both her hands upon his shoulders, +looking straight into his face. + +"I have been wicked," she said, "I have been wrong. But perhaps there +were excuses. Until one has felt love, real love, Guy, one doesn't +realize its claims or the duties one owes it. I was ambitious. I liked +William well enough. He interested me and stimulated me. I felt proud to +think that I was to be the companion of a man who knew and had done so +much. But now the mere thought of that companionship fills me with fear. +Not fear of him, but fear of the treachery I should have done my nature +and myself if I had married him. I don't know what will happen, but here +and now, Guy, whatever may be the outcome, I tell you that I love you, +and I swear to you, however wrong it may be, whatever violence I may be +doing to my plighted troth, I tell you that, however great the +unworthiness, I will be yours and yours alone. I know it's wrong, and +yet, somehow, I feel it can't be wrong. I don't understand, +but--but----" He took her in his arms once more and held her. + +It was late, and he was going, and was bidding her farewell. He knelt +before her and took her hand, bowing over it and kissing it. + +"Good-night," he said, "my lady, my love, my bride! I am with you now, +and shall be with you always in spirit until we are one--until the end +of our lives. And whatever may be in store in the immediate future I +shall be watching and waiting, I shall be guarding you and shielding you +as well as I can, and if things come to the worst, I shall be ready, and +we will count the world well lost, as other wise lovers have done, for +the sacred cause and in the holy service of Love." + +So he bowed over her slim white hand and kissed it, looking in his +beauty and confidence and strength like any knight of old kneeling +before the lady he was pledged to serve. And when he was gone, and she +was alone in her room up-stairs, Marjorie was filled with a joy and +exhilaration such as she had never known before. Yet there seemed +hanging over the little rosy landscape, the brightly-lit landscape in +which she moved, a dark and massive cloud. + +She dreamt thus. She dreamt that this cloud grew blacker and blacker, +and still more heavy, sinking lower and lower towards her. Then she saw +her lover as a knight in armour cutting upwards with a gleaming sword +until the cloud departed and rushed away, and all was once more bathed +in sunlight. She knew the name of that sword. It was not Excalibur, it +was Love. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A CONSPIRACY OF SCIENTISTS + + +Sir William Gouldesbrough had been up very late the night before. He +came down from his room on a grey morning a fortnight after the day on +which he had told Marjorie something of his hopes. It was nearly twelve +o'clock. He had not retired to rest until four upon the same morning. +And when he had at last left the great laboratories built out of the +back of the house, he had stumbled up to his room, a man drunk with an +almost incredible success--a success of detail so perfect and complete +that his intelligence staggered before the supreme triumph of his hopes. + +But the remaining portion of the night, or rather during the beginning +of the chill wintry dawn, he had lain alone in his great Georgian +bedroom, watching the grey light filtering into the room, flood by +flood, until the dark became something more terrible, something filled +with vast moving shadows, with monstrous creatures which lurked in the +corners of the room, with strange half lights that went and came, and +gave the wan mirrors of the wardrobe, of the mantel-shelf, a ghost-like +life only to withdraw, and then once more increase it. + +And as this great and famous man lay in this vast lonely room without +power of sleep, two terrible emotions surged and throbbed within +him,--two emotions in their intensity too great for one mind to hold. + +One was the final and detailed triumph of all he held dear in the world +of science and in the department of his life's work. The other was the +imminent and coming ruin of his heart's hope, and the love which had +come to him, and which had seemed the most wonderful thing that life +could give. + +Yes, there he lay, a king of intellect, a veritable prince of the powers +of the air, and all his triumph was but as dust and ashes and +bitterness, because he knew that he was losing a smaller principality +perhaps, but one he held dearer than all his other possessions. + +Emperor of the great grey continent of science, he must now resign his +lordship of the little rosy principality of Love. + +So, as he came down-stairs close upon mid-day of the winter's morning--a +tall distinguished figure in the long camel's-hair dressing-gown, with +its suggestion of a monk's robe--the butler who was crossing the hall +at the time was startled by the fixed pallor of his face. + +The man went up to him. + +"Excuse me, Sir William," he said, "but you're working too hard. You're +not well, sir. You mustn't overdo it. I have got you a sole and +mushrooms for breakfast, sir, but I should not advise you to touch it, +now I've seen you. If you'll allow me to offer my advice, I should +suggest a bowl of soup." + +"Thank you, Delaine," Sir William answered. "But I don't think I could +even take anything at present. Will you send my letters into the study?" + +"Yes, Sir William," the man replied, "and I shall make so bold as to +bring you a bowl of soup in half-an-hour, as well." + +Gouldesbrough crossed the great gloomy hall and entered the study. + +A bright fire was glowing on the hearth, the place was all dusted, tidy +and cheerful, even though the world outside was a blank wall of fog. + +He stood up in the middle of the room. Tall, columnar, with a great +dignity about him, had there been any one there to see. It was a dual +dignity, the dignity of supreme success and the dignity of irremediable +pain. + +The butler came in with the letters upon a copper tray. There was a +great pile of them, and as the man closed the door after he put the tray +upon the writing-table, Sir William began to deal the letters like a +pack of cards, throwing this and that one on the floor, with a shuffling +movement of the wrist, and as he did so his eyes were horrid in their +searching and their intensity. At last he came to the one he sought. A +letter addressed to him in a bold but feminine handwriting. As his +fingers touched it a loud sob burst out into the silence of the room. +With shaking fingers he tore it open, standing among the litter of the +unopened letters, and began to read. + +He read the letter right through, then walked to the mantel-piece, +leaning his right arm upon it as if for support. But the tension was now +a little relaxed. He had come down to find the worst, to meet the +inevitable. He had met it, and there was now neither premonition of the +moment of realization nor the last and torturing flicker of despairing +hope. + +This was the letter. It began without preface or address-- + + "You must have known this was coming. Everything in your manner has + shown me that you knew it was coming. And for that, unhappy as I + am, I am glad. I have a terrible confession to make to you. But + you who are so great, you who know the human mind from your great + height, as a conquering general surveys a country from a + mountain-top, you will understand. When you asked me to marry you + and I said 'Yes,' I was pleased and flattered, and I had a + tremendous admiration and respect for you and for all you have + done. Then when we came to know each other, I began to see the + human side of you, and I had, and if you will let me say so, still + have, a real affection for you. And had it not been that something + more powerful than affection has come into my life, I would have + been a true and faithful wife and companion to you. + + "But you have seen, and you must know, that things are changed. Are + we not all subject to the laws of destiny, the laws of chance? Is + it not true that none of us on our way through the world can say by + whom or how we shall be caught up out of ourselves and changed into + what we could not be before? Oh, you know it all. You of all men + know it! + + "I need not here speak in detailed words, because from things you + have seen you know well enough what I am about to say, of whom I + would speak if I could. But it is enough, William, to tell you what + you already know. That I love some one else, and that if I am true + to myself, which is after all the first _duty_ of all of us, I + could never marry you. I can never be to you what you wish or what + I would like to be as your wife. I am stricken down with the + knowledge of the pain all this will give you, though, thank God, it + is not a pain for which you are unprepared. I dare not ask your + forgiveness, I can say nothing to console you. I have acted + wickedly and wrongly, but I cannot do anything else but what I am + doing. + + "Forgive, if you can. Think kindly, if you can, of Marjorie." + +Now he knew. He folded the letter gently, kissed it--an odd action for a +man so strong--and put it in the inside pocket of his coat, which +pressed next his heart. + +Then he rang the bell. + +"Ask Mr. Guest to come," he said. + +"Very well, Sir William," the butler answered, "but Mr. Charliewood has +just arrived." + +"Then ask him in," Gouldesbrough answered. + +Charliewood came into the room. + +"By Jove!" he said, "you look about as seedy as I've ever seen you +look!" + +Sir William went up to him and put his hand upon his shoulder. + +"Look here," he said, "I've had a smack in the face this morning, +Charliewood. You know what it is, I need not tell you. And look here, +too, I'm going to ask you to help me as you've never helped me before. +I'm afraid, old fellow, I've often been a nuisance to you, and often +rather rubbed in the fact that you owe me money, and that you've had to +do things for me. Forgive me now, if you will. I'm going to call upon +you for active friendship." + +"Oh," Charliewood answered, "we won't talk about friendship between you +and me. I've done what I had to do and there's enough." + +Sir William still held him by the shoulder. "You don't really feel that, +Charliewood?" he said in a quiet voice, and as he did so the magnetism +of his personality began to flow and flood upon the weaker man and +influence him to kindliness. + +"Well, well," he said, "what is it now? I suppose we've been running +round a vicious circle and we've come to the last lap?" + +"That's just about it," Sir William answered. "Just let me say that this +is the last service I shall ever ask from you. I'll give you back all +the I.O.U.'s and things, and I'll give you enough money to put yourself +absolutely right with the world, then we'll say good-bye." + +Charliewood started. "That's awfully good of you," he said. "I don't +think that I want to say good-bye. But still, what is it?" + +"Rathbone," Sir William answered, pronouncing the name with marked +difficulty. + +"It's all over then?" Charliewood answered. + +"Yes." + +"I thought it would be. I have told you all that has been going on, and +I knew it would be." + +"She's written to me this morning," Gouldesbrough said. "A kind letter, +but a letter finishing it all." + +Then the weaker, smaller man became, as so often happens in life, the +tempter--the instrument which moves the lever of a man's career towards +the dark sinister side of the dial. + +Charliewood was touched and moved by the unexpected kindness in his +patron's voice. + +"Don't say it's finished," he said; "nothing is finished for a man like +you, with a man like me to help him. Of course it's not finished. You +have not always been all you might to me, William, but I'll help you +now. I'll do anything you want me to do. Buck up, old boy! You will pass +the post first by a couple of lengths yet." + +"How?" + +"Well, what were you going to ask me to do?" + +They looked each other in the face with glowing eyes and pale +countenances, while a horrible excitement shone out upon them both. + +At that moment the door opened very quietly, and an extraordinary person +came into the room. + +He was a short, fat, youthful-looking man, with a large, pink, and quite +hairless face. The face was extremely intelligent, noticeably so, but it +was streaked and furrowed with dissipation. It told the story not of the +man who enjoyed the sensuous things of life in company, and as part of a +merry progress towards the grave, but it betrayed the secret sot, the +cunning sensualist private and at home. + +This man was Mr. Guest, Sir William's faithful assistant in science, a +man who had no initiative power, who could rarely invent a project or +discover a scientific fact, but a man who, when once he was put upon the +lines he ought to go, could follow them as the most intelligent +sleuth-hound in the scientific world. + +Wilson Guest was perhaps the greatest living physicist in Europe. He was +of inestimable value to his chief, and he was content to remain between +the high red-brick walls of the old house in Regent's Park, provided +with all he needed for his own amusements, and instigated to further +triumphs under the ægis of his master. + +"Well, what is it?" said this fat, youthful and rather horrible-looking +person. + +"We've come to grips of the great fact, Guest," Sir William answered, +still with his hand upon Charliewood's shoulder. + +The pink creature laughed a hollow and merciless laugh. + +"I knew it would come to this," he said, "since you have added another +interest to your scientific interests, Gouldesbrough. Why have you +called me in to a consultation?" + +Gouldesbrough's whole face changed; it became malignant, the face of a +devil. + +"I'm going to win," he said. "I've had a knock-down blow, but I'm going +to get up and win still! Mr. Rathbone must disappear. That can be easily +arranged with the resources at our command." + +Guest gave a horrible chuckle. + +"And when we've got him?" he said. + +"He must disappear for always," Gouldesbrough answered. + +"Quite easy," Guest replied. "Quite easy, William. But, _not until we've +done with him, shall he_?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, isn't it the last condition of our experiments that we should have +some one a slave, a dead man to the world, to use as we shall think fit? +Here's your man. Do what you like to him afterwards. Let's make your +rival a stepping-stone to your final success." + +Then the three men looked at each other in fear. + +Charliewood and Sir William Gouldesbrough were pale as linen, but the +short, fat man was pink still, and laughed and chuckled nervously. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"WILL YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOUR?" + + +Mr. Eustace Charliewood's chambers were in Jermyn Street. But few of his +many friends had ever seen the interior of them. Such entertaining as +the man about town did--and he was always one of those who were +entertained, rather than one of those who offer hospitality--was done at +his club. + +The man who looked after the place and valeted his master was therefore +the more surprised when Charliewood had called him up one morning after +breakfast. + +"Look here, William," Charliewood had said, "I've got a gentleman coming +to dinner. We've some business to talk over, so I shan't dine him at the +club. I suppose you can manage a little dinner here?" + +"Certainly, sir, if necessary," the man answered. "Of course you're not +in the habit of dining at home, and you've not got your own things. That +is if you mean a proper little dinner, sir." + +"I do, I do, William," his master answered hurriedly. + +"But, there, that needn't matter," the man answered, "we can have +everything in if you like, sir." + +"That will be best," Charliewood answered. "I leave everything to you, +William. Except," he added as an afterthought, "the menu. I want a small +dinner, William, but quite good. Shall we say a little _bisque_ for the +soup? Then perhaps a small Normandy sole. Afterwards a chicken cooked +_en casserole_. As an _entrée_ some white truffles stewed in +Sillery--you can get them in glass jars from Falkland & Masons--and then +a morsel of Brie and some coffee. That will do, I think." + +"And about the wine, sir?" said William, astonished at these +unaccustomed preparations, and inwardly resolving that Mr. Eustace +Charliewood had discovered a very brightly plumed pigeon to pluck. + +"Oh, about the wine! Well, I think I'll see to that myself. I'll have it +sent up from the club. You've an ice-pail for the champagne, haven't +you, William?" + +"Yes, sir, we certainly have _that_." + +"Very good then. We'll say at eight then." + +William bowed and withdrew. + +All that day the various members of this or that fast and exclusive +club round about St. James's Street, noticed that Eustace Charliewood +was out of form. His conversation and his greetings were not so +imperturbably cheerful and suave as usual. He took no interest in the +absorbing question as to whether young Harry Rayke--the Earl of Spaydes' +son--would after all propose to Lithia Varallette, the well-known +musical comedy girl. The head waiter of the Baobab Club noticed Mr. +Charliewood was off his food, and everybody with whom the man about town +came in contact said that "Richard was by no means himself." + +As the evening drew on, a dark, foggy evening, which promised as night +came to be darker and foggier still, Charliewood's agitation increased, +though just now there was no one to see it. + +He walked down St. James's Street, past Marlborough House, and briskly +promenaded the wide and splendid avenue which now exists in front of +Buckingham Palace. The fog made him cough, the raw air was most +unpleasant, and it was no hour for exercise. But, despite the cold and +misery of it all, Charliewood continued his tramp backwards and +forwards. + +When he returned to his chambers in Jermyn Street, about seven o'clock, +he found that his clothes were wet with perspiration, and only a hot +bath before dressing for dinner and a couple of bromide tabloids in a +wine-glass full of milk seemed to bring him back to his ordinary +condition. + +When, however, he went into his little dining-room, to all outward +appearances he was the usual Eustace Charliewood of the pavements and +club-rooms of the West End. + +The room was comfortable. A bright fire glowed upon the hearth, shining +upon the high-class sporting prints, the subdued wall-paper, the +comfortable padded chairs, and the shelves loaded with bachelor +nick-nacks and sporting trophies of his youth. + +In one corner was a little round table set for two, gleaming with glass +and silver and lit by electric lights covered with crimson shades. + +It was all very warm and inviting. He looked round it with satisfaction +for a moment. + +Then, suddenly, as he stood on the hearth-rug, he put his plump, white +hand with the heavy seal ring upon it, up to his throat. The apple moved +up and down convulsively, and for a single moment the whole being of the +man was filled with overmastering fear of the future and horror and +loathing for himself. + +The spasm passed as quickly as it came, the drug he had taken asserted +its grip upon the twitching nerves, the man whose whole life was +discreet adventure, who was a soldier of social fortune, who daily +faced perils, became once more himself. + +That is to say, to put it in two words, his better angel, who had held +possession of him for a moment, fled sorrowfully away, while the +especial spirit deputed to look after the other side of him happened to +chance that way, and remembering he had often found a hospitable +reception from Mr. Eustace Charliewood, looked in, found his old +quarters duly swept and garnished, and settled down. + +Charliewood's rooms were on the ground floor. In a minute or two, it was +about a quarter to eight, he heard someone upon the steps outside, in +Jermyn Street, and then the electric bell whirr down below in the +kitchen. + +He rushed out into the hall. It generally took William some time to +mount from the lower regions, which were deep in the bowels of the +earth, and no doubt Mr. Charliewood kindly desired to spare the butler +the trouble of opening the door. + +So, at least, William thought, as he mounted the kitchen stairs and came +out into the hall to find Mr. Charliewood already helping his guest off +with his coat and showing him into the dining-room. William did not know +that there were any special reasons in Mr. Charliewood's mind for not +having his guest's name announced and possibly remembered by the +servant. + +"Well, my dear Rathbone, how are you?" Charliewood said, and no face +could have been kinder or more inviting and pleasant to see than the +face of the host. "Awfully good of you to come and take me like this, +but I thought we should be more comfortable here than at the Club. There +are one or two things I want to talk over. I'll do you as well as I can, +but I can't answer for anything. You must take pot luck!" + +Guy Rathbone looked round the charming room and laughed--a full-blooded, +happy laugh. + +"I wish you could see my chambers in the Temple," he said. "But you +fellows who live up this end do yourselves so jolly well!" + +"I suppose one does overdo it," Charliewood answered, "in the way of +little comforts and things. It's a mistake, no doubt, but one gets used +to it and was brought up to it, and so just goes on, dependent upon +things that a sensible man could easily do without. Now, sit down and +have a sherry and bitters. Dinner will be up in a minute. And try one of +these cigarettes. It's a bad plan to smoke before dinner, I know, as a +rule, but these little things just go with the sherry and bitters, and +they are special. I get them over from Rio. They're made of black +Brazilian tobacco, as you see; they're only half as long as your finger, +and instead of being wrapped in filthy, poisonous rice paper, they're +covered with maize leaves." + +Rathbone sank into the luxurious chair which his host pointed out to +him, took the sherry, in its heavily cut glass, and lit one of the +cigarettes. He stretched out his feet towards the fire and enjoyed a +moment of intense physical ease. The flames and the shaded electric +lights shone upon his fine and happy face, twinkled upon the stud in his +shirt front, and showed him for what he was at that moment--a young +gentleman intensely enjoying everything that life had to give. + +In a moment or two more dinner was served. + +"You needn't wait, William," Charliewood said, as they sat down to the +_hors d'oeuvre_. "Just put the soup on and I'll ring when we're ready." + +"So good of you to ask me," Rathbone said. "I should have gone to the +Oxford and Cambridge Club, had a beef-steak, looked at the evening +papers, and then returned to chambers to write letters. Rather a dismal +proceeding on a night like this!" + +"Hadn't you anything on to-night, then?" Charliewood asked carelessly. + +"Not a single thing," Rathbone answered. "I've been cutting all my +engagements during the last week or two, telling people I was going out +of town. I've got a special reason for working very hard just now." + +Charliewood started, and a slight gleam came into his eyes. + +"Good idea, that!" he said, "telling people you're going out of town +when you want to be quiet for a week or two!" + +"It is," Rathbone replied. "At most of the houses I'm in the habit of +going to just now every one thinks I'm away. I've been living the life +of a recluse, as far as society goes." + +Charliewood slightly lifted a glass of Pol Roger. + +"Here's success to the work, my dear boy," he said jovially. "And I +congratulate myself on the odd accident which brought us together. And +of course I don't know you very well, Rathbone, and I am sure I should +hate to be impertinent in any way. But still, as you know, I go about +everywhere, and one can't help hearing things. And, besides, I'm in a +special position in regard to a certain matter, too. Here's my best wish +for your happiness in the future, in another way!" + +He looked straight into the young man's eyes as he said this, and as he +did so Rathbone, whose glass was lifted in response, began to colour +until his whole face became crimson. + +"I haven't offended you?" Charliewood said quickly. + +"Oh--er--not a bit, of course," Rathbone answered with manifest +uneasiness. "But I didn't know that anything had got about. I didn't +know that you knew. Oh, confound it," he concluded, "I don't want to +talk about my own affairs; I----Hang it all, Charliewood, tell me +straight out what you mean." + +"I repeat," Charliewood answered, "that I haven't known you very long, +and therefore I am very chary of in any way infringing the natural +reticence that should be between men in our position. Still, you know +who I am; everybody knows all about me, and I should like you to believe +that I am really a friend." + +As he said this, though his face was full of frankness and kindliness +once more, Charliewood felt that sick loathing of himself he had +experienced just before his guest had arrived. There was a throbbing at +his temples, his throat felt as if it were packed with warm flour. He +hurriedly gulped down some champagne and went on. "Everybody knows by +this time," he said in a quiet voice, "that--that--well, old chap, that +there has been a sort of set to partners and a change in certain +quarters." + +At that moment William appeared with the fish, Charliewood having rung +for him at the psychological moment, knowing that the little interlude +would give his guest time to collect his thoughts. + +When the man had once more left the room, Rathbone, who had been biting +his lips in perplexity and drumming upon the table with his fingers, +bent towards his host. + +"I see you know all about it," he said; "and, upon my word, if you'd let +me, I should like to talk things over with you from one point of view." + +"My dear Rathbone," Charliewood replied, "say nothing whatever to me +unless you like, but understand that what you did say would be said in +absolute confidence, and that if the experience of a man older in social +life, and accustomed to all its vagaries, can help you, I give it to you +with all my heart." + +"Now I call that very good of you, Charliewood," the young man answered. +"I'll tell you straight out, what you probably already know, and I'll +ask you for a hint as to what I ought to do. Miss Poole"--he mentioned +the name with obvious reluctance--"has found that she made an--er, well, +a sort of mistake in her affections. I have no doubt it's all over +London that she's written to Sir William Gouldesbrough telling him so." + +"Throwing him over, in fact," Charliewood said. + +"If you like to put it so," the other answered, "and of course that is +just what it amounts to." + +"Well then?" Charliewood said. + +"I feel in a sort of way that I've done an awfully caddish thing," +Rathbone went on. "Fortunately, I am not in Gouldesbrough's set. I don't +know him at all. At the same time it's awfully bad form to make love to +a girl who's engaged to any one else. And that, unconsciously, is just +what I seem to have been doing for a very long time. But, believe me," +he concluded with a singular simplicity and boyishness, "I really +couldn't help it." + +Charliewood laughed a little and then sighed to himself. + +"I quite understand," he said; "these things do and will happen, and it +wasn't your fault at all. But I do think it's very wrong if a girl who +finds that she has made a mistake doesn't put it right before it becomes +unavoidable." + +"Do you really?" Rathbone cried. "Well, do you know, that's just my +point of view, and it relieves me to hear you say so." + +"And do you know," Charliewood replied, "that I'm probably the most +intimate friend William Gouldesbrough has in the world?" + +Rathbone started. "Good Lord!" he said. "Then--what--then--why? And you +really mean that you can be friends with me?" + +"That's just what I do mean," Charliewood answered; "and now we've got +to the point, I will tell you frankly that though our meeting was a pure +accident in the first place, I am awfully glad that we did meet and that +you are here to-night. I have talked the whole matter over with poor +dear Sir William a good deal lately. He has done me the honour to make +me his confidant in the matter. Two or three days ago I mentioned that I +knew you." + +"What did he say?" Rathbone asked quickly. + +"I can't tell you his words," Charliewood answered, "but I can tell you +their purpose. And it was a wonderful revelation to me of the strength +and beauty of my old friend's character. He's a fine fellow, Rathbone, +and when you know him you'll say so too." + +"Know him?" Rathbone said. "My dear Charliewood, surely you see that +it's impossible that I should meet a man to whom I have unconsciously +done such a great injury." + +"Ah," Charliewood answered, "you don't know William. It is just the +possibility which makes his character so fine. Practically, what he said +to me was this. 'You know this young fellow, Eustace. Is he a decent +sort of man? A gentleman in ideas, as well as in position, clean living +and all that?' 'As far as I know,' I answered, 'he's just so in every +way.'" + +Once more Rathbone coloured up to the eyes. + +Charliewood went on. + +"Then William unburdened himself to me fully. 'I only want Marjorie +Poole to be happy,' he said, 'and when the proper time arrives I shall +just write and tell her so. I was fond of her, deeply fond of her; what +man would not be? I thought if she cared for me that she would be a +worthy mistress of my house, and an ideal partner to share my fortune +and the position I have won. But I am much older than she is. I am +immersed, as you know, in grave, scientific pursuits, and I quite +realize that I could not give her what as a young girl she has a right +to expect. I don't say that I relinquish my claim upon her without a +pang, but I have other interests, and my wife and love could in any case +only be a part of my life. Do you know what I should like to do more +than anything else, Eustace?' 'What?' I said. 'Why,' he continued, 'to +meet this young Mr. Rathbone. To tell him all that I am telling you, +perfectly frankly, to shake him by the hand, and, by Jove, to be the +best man at his wedding, if he'd let me. Then I shall get back to my +inventions with a quiet mind, knowing that the only girl who has ever +touched me in the least degree is safe and happy.'" + +Rathbone pushed back his chair and jumped up. + +"Why, heavens," he said, "what a noble fellow! There's a _man_, if you +like. I can quite see it all, Charliewood, and you've relieved my mind +of a tremendous weight. I can see it all quite distinctly. One of the +most distinguished and charming men of the day sees a beautiful and +intellectual girl and thinks the time has come when he must marry. Of +course, he can't really know what _love_ is, like a younger man or a man +who has not made his mark in the world. He can't feel what I feel, for +instance. And so he bows to the inevitable, and in the kindest and most +chivalrous way wants to make every one happy. Charliewood! It's just +like a story-book!" + +"I don't read 'em myself much, the papers do for me. But, 'pon my soul, +since you put it in that way, so it is." + +Mr. Charliewood quite forgot to add what sort of story-book. Even the +most popular novels of to-day don't always have the traditional happy +ending. + +"Sit down, old fellow," Charliewood said with great kindness. "You +mustn't miss this chicken, it is a rather special dish, and I'm going to +ring for William." + +"Oh, hang chicken!" Rathbone answered, his face glowing. + +"Never abuse your dinner," Charliewood answered. "Only people who are +not able to dine do that. You never know when you may dine again." + +As he said this the wicked exhilaration at having successfully played +with sure and dexterous fingers upon this young and impressionable +nature flowed over the older man. An evil joy in his own powers came to +him--a devilish satisfaction in his knowledge of the horrid future. For +a moment the Tenant who had lately taken up his abode within Mr. Eustace +Charliewood was looking out of his host's eye. + +Rathbone laughed carelessly. Then, after the waiter had once more +entered and left the room, he bent over the table and began to speak +more earnestly. + +"I suspect," he said, "that I owe you a great deal in this matter, +Charliewood, more than you would care to confess. Now tell me, don't I?" + +Charliewood waved his hand. + +"Oh, we won't go into that part of the question," he said. "But there's +just one thing I would like to say. Your feeling in the matter has been +quite splendid, Rathbone. I admire you for the way you have felt and +spoken since you have been telling me about your engagement, from first +to last. Such a lot of men would have congratulated themselves upon +winning the girl away from the other fellow without a thought of what +the other fellow would feel. Now look here, I do think you owe William +this much reparation----" + +"Anything in the world I can do----" Rathbone was beginning. + +"Well, there's one thing you can do," Charliewood answered, "you can +satisfy him that you're the sort of man to whom he would care to +surrender Miss Poole. He is willing and anxious to make friends with +you. In fact, I know he is most anxious to meet you. I admit that it may +be rather an awkward meeting for you, but I think that you owe it to +him, considering the way in which he regards the whole affair." + +"Of course I will meet him," Rathbone answered. "I shall be proud to +meet a man like that. Any time you like." + +"Well, I don't want to press things, Rathbone; but, personally, I should +say there was no time like the present. We are sure to find +Gouldesbrough in to-night after dinner. Suppose we walk up to Regent's +Park and call on him. I know you will be received in the kindest way, in +a way you never suspected before we talked the matter over." + +"We'll do it," Rathbone answered, "and I shall leave his house to-night +feeling a great burden has been removed from me." + +Charliewood made no answer to this last remark but merely pushed the +champagne-bottle over to his guest. + + * * * * * + +An hour afterwards the two men, both with the astrachan coats which +brought them so curiously together turned up about their ears, were +walking briskly towards Oxford Street. The fog was very heavy and few +people were about, though Charliewood said he knew exactly how to find +the way. + +"You needn't worry," he said, "we'll go up Portland Place, and I can +find Sir William's house without the least trouble. In fact, I think it +would be a mistake to take a hansom on a night like this. The roads are +horribly greasy. You can't see the lights of any vehicle a few yards +ahead, and we're just as likely to be run into as not. Of course, if +you'd rather ride----" + +"Not a bit," Rathbone answered, "exercise will do me good, and I shall +feel calmer and more prepared for the interview. I'm not a sybarite like +you are, and after a dinner like you've given me I should not be nearly +in such good form unless I did have a walk." + +"Right oh!" Charliewood replied; "then come along. We will walk fast to +keep warm." + +They went on, neither talking much, because of the thick fog that stung +the nostrils and the eyes and poured down the throat when the mouth was +opened. + +In about three-quarters of an hour they had passed up Portland Place, +turned to the left and were drawing near the house they sought. + +"It's not very far now," Charliewood said. + +He shook as he said so, and his voice had a very muffled sound. + +"Don't you talk, old fellow," Rathbone answered. "I can see you're cold, +and this fog plays the deuce with the lungs. Do keep quiet; there's no +need to say anything. I'll follow where you lead." + +They stood at last before the little door in the high wall of Sir +William Gouldesbrough's house. + +In the distance the faint rumble of London came to their ears, but there +was not a soul about. Nobody saw them as Charliewood opened the door +with a pass-key, explaining to Rathbone that Sir William had given him +the key in order to save the servants coming through the garden. + +"I'm always in and out of the house," he explained, still with the cold +and fog in his voice. + +They opened the door, and it clicked behind them. + +Rathbone brushed against some laurel bushes. + +"I say," he said, "how dark it is here! You must conduct me, +Charliewood, up this path. Let me take your arm." + +He took his friend's arm, noticing with wonder how the cold seemed to +have penetrated the bones of his host; for the big man's whole body was +trembling. + +The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked for thirty yards +or so. Then Rathbone saw a dim light above his head. It was the lamp +which hung in the porch. His feet knocked against the step. + +"Here we are," Charliewood said; "six steps, and then the front door." + +Once more Charliewood produced a key, opened the massive door of the +hall, and entered with his friend. + +"Take off your coat," he said, as Rathbone looked round wonderingly at +the big, gloomy and dimly-lit place. "This is rather miserable, but +Gouldesbrough has got a little snuggery down the passage, where we shall +be quite comfortable. Are you ready? Very well, then, come along." + +The house seemed absolutely still, save for Charliewood's echoing +footsteps as he led the way towards the door on the right-hand side of +the wide staircase. + +Rathbone followed him. As he did so the sombre emptiness of the place +began to steal over his nerves and influence them, coupled, no doubt, +with the expectation of the coming interview. + +He shuddered a little, and wished that he was back again in the cosy +little room in Jermyn Street. + +Then a green baize door opened, they passed through, and it swung back +noiselessly behind them. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ENGLAND'S GREAT SENSATION + + +In the course of a week or so London, and shortly afterwards the whole +of England, realized that a new and absorbing sensation was dawning. + +Perhaps there is nothing which more excites the popular mind than the +sudden disappearance of anybody from whatever class of society. + +It began to be realized, whispered and hinted at in the newspapers that +a young and rising barrister of good family, named Mr. Guy Rathbone, of +the Inner Temple, had suddenly vanished. It was but a year or two before +that the whole of the country had been thrilled by the sad case of Miss +Hickman. The event and the excitement it had raised at the time were +still fresh in the public mind; and when it began to be rumoured that +something even more sensational than that had taken place, the Press +began to be on the alert. In ten days' time such as were known of the +facts of Mr. Guy Rathbone's apparent departure from ordinary life had +become the topic of the hour. The newspapers were filled with columns of +surmises. Hour by hour, as the evening papers of London and the +provinces appeared, new theories, clues, explanations filled the leader +pages and the contents' bills. The "Rathbone Mystery," as it was called, +absorbed the whole interest of the country. An announcement of war would +have been momentarily disregarded by the man in the street, while he yet +remained unsatisfied as to the truth about the young gentleman who +seemed to have been utterly wiped out from the world of men and women, +to have vanished into thin air without a trace of his movements or a +single clue as to his whereabouts. + +All that was accurately known was summed up again and again in the Press +and in general conversation, and it amounted to just this and no more. + +Mr. Guy Rathbone was in fairly prosperous circumstances; he had an +income of his own, was slowly but steadily climbing the laborious ladder +of the Bar, was popular in society, and, as far as could be ascertained, +had no troubles of any sort whatever. + +It was shown that Rathbone was not in debt, and practically owed nothing +whatever, except the ordinary current accounts, which he was accustomed +to settle every quarter. He had a fair balance at the bank, and his +securities, which provided him with his income, were intact. His life +had been a singularly open one. His movements had never suggested +anything secret or disreputable. His friends were all people in good +circumstances, and no one had ever alleged any shady acquaintances +against him. He was in perfect health, was constantly in the habit of +taking exercise at the German Gymnasium, still played football +occasionally, and held a commission in the Inns of Court Volunteers. He +had never been observed to be downcast or despondent in any way. In +short, there was no earthly reason, at any rate upon the surface, for a +voluntary withdrawal on his part from the usual routine of his life. + +The idea of suicide was frankly scouted by both friends, acquaintances +and business connections. People do not destroy themselves without a +real or imaginary reason, and this young man had always been regarded as +so eminently healthy-minded and sane, that no one was prepared to +believe even that he had made away with himself in a sudden fit of +morbidity or madness. It was shown that there had been no taint of +insanity in his family for several generations. The theory of suicide +was clearly untenable. This was the conclusion to which journalists, +police, and the new class of scientific mystery experts which has sprung +up during the last few years unanimously came. Moreover, in the London +of to-day, or even in the country, it is a most difficult thing for a +man to commit suicide without the more or less immediate discovery of +his remains. + +There was not wanting the class of people who hinted at foul play. But +that theory was immensely narrowed by the fact that no one could have +had any motive for murdering this young man, save only a member of the +criminal classes, who did so for personal gain. It was quite true that +he might have been robbed and his body cunningly disposed of. Such +things have happened, such things do, though very rarely, happen in the +London of to-day. But the class of criminal who makes a practice and +livelihood of robbery with violence, of attempted or actual murder, is a +small class. Every member of it is intimately known to the police, and +Scotland Yard was able to discover no single suspicious movement of this +or that criminal who might reasonably be concerned in such an affair. +Moreover, it was pointed out that such criminals were either invariably +brought to justice or that, at any rate, the _fact_ that some one or +other unknown has committed a murder is invariably discovered within a +week or so of the occurrence. + +For fourteen days the hundreds of people engaged in trying to solve this +mystery had found no single indication of foul play. + +Where, then, was Guy Rathbone? Was he alive? was he dead? Nobody was +prepared to say. + +The one strange circumstance which seemed to throw a tiny light upon the +mystery was this. For a fortnight or so before his disappearance, Mr. +Rathbone, usually in the habit of going a good deal to dinner-parties, +dances, and so on, had declined all invitations. Many people who had +invited him to this or that function now came forward and announced that +their invitations had been declined, as Mr. Rathbone had said he was +going out of town for a short time. Inquiries in the Temple showed that +Mr. Rathbone had not been out of town at all. He had remained almost +entirely in his chambers, and even his appearances in the Law Courts, +where he had only done three days' actual work for the last week or two, +had been less frequent than usual. + +Rathbone was in the habit of being attended to by a woman who came early +in the morning, lit the fires, prepared his bath and breakfast, and then +swept the chambers. The woman generally arrived at seven and left about +twelve, returning again for an hour about six in the evening, to make up +the fires and do anything else that might be required. Rathbone either +lunched in the Inner Temple or in one of the Fleet Street restaurants. +If not dining out, he generally took this meal at the Oxford and +Cambridge Club, of which he was a member. + +The waiters in the Temple Hall said that his attendance had not been +quite as regular as usual in the fortnight or so before his +disappearance, but they certainly thought that they had seen him every +other day or so. + +The woman who looked after the chambers stated that Mr. Rathbone had +remained indoors a good deal more than usual, seeming to be engrossed in +law books. On several occasions when she had arrived at six in the +evening, she had found that he did not require his dress clothes put +out, and had asked her to bring him in some sandwiches or some light +food of that description, as he intended to work alone far into the +night. + +These slight divergencies from his ordinary habits were, every one +agreed, significant of something. But what that something was nobody +knew, and the wild suggestions made on all sides seemed to provide no +real solution. + +The last occasion upon which Mr. Rathbone had been seen by any one able +to report the occurrence was in the early morning at breakfast. Mrs. +Baker, the bed-maker, had cooked the breakfast as usual, and had asked +her master if he would excuse her attendance in the evening, as she had +a couple of orders for the Adelphi, in return for displaying the bills +of the theatre in a little shop she kept with her daughter in a street +off Holborn. + +"My master seemed in his usual spirits," the good woman had said in an +interview with a member of the staff of the _Westminster Gazette_. "He +gave me permission at once to go to the theatre, and said that he +himself would be out that evening. There was no trace of anything +unusual in his manner. When I arrived in the morning and opened the +outer doors of the chambers with my pass key, I went into the study and +the sitting-room as usual, lit two fires, turned on the bath, made a cup +of tea and took it to Mr. Rathbone's bedroom. There was no answer to my +knock, and when I opened the door and went in, thinking he was +over-sleeping himself, I found the bed had not been slept in. This was +very unusual in a gentleman of Mr. Rathbone's regular habits. It would +not have attracted my notice in the case of some gentlemen I have been +in the habit of doing for, who were accustomed to stay out without any +intimation of the fact. But I did think it strange in the case of Mr. +Guy, always a very steady gentleman. I waited about till nearly one +o'clock, and he did not return. I then went home, and did not go to the +chambers again till six o'clock, when I found things in the same state +as before, the fires burnt out, and no trace of anybody having entered. +As I left the Inn I asked the porter if he had seen Mr. Rathbone, and he +replied that he had not returned. The same thing happened for the next +two days, when the porter communicated with the authorities of the Inn, +and an inspector of police was called in." + +The interview disclosed few more facts of importance, save only one. +This was that Mr. Rathbone had dressed for dinner on the night of his +disappearance. His evening clothes were not in the wardrobe, and the +morning suit he had been wearing at breakfast was neatly folded and +placed upon a chest of drawers ready for Mrs. Baker to brush it. + +This seemed to show indubitably that the barrister had no thought of +being absent from home that night. + +There the matter had rested at first. Meanwhile, as no new discovery was +made, and not the slightest ray of light seemed to be forthcoming, the +public interest was worked up to fever heat. Rathbone had few relations, +though many friends. His only surviving relative appeared to be his +uncle, a brother of his mother, who was the Dean of Bexeter. The +clergyman was interviewed, and stated that he generally received a +letter from his nephew every three weeks or so, but nothing in the most +recent letter had been unusual, and that he was as much in the dark as +any ordinary member of the public. + +This much was known to the man in the street. But in society, while the +comment and amazement was no less in intensity, much more was known than +the outside world suspected. + +For some time past every one had remarked the apparent and growing +intimacy between the lost man and Miss Marjorie Poole, who was engaged +to the famous scientist, Sir William Gouldesbrough, F.R.S. How far +matters had gone between the young couple was only conjectured, but at +the moment of Rathbone's disappearance it was generally believed that +Miss Poole was about to throw over Sir William for his young rival--this +was the elegant way in which men talked in the clubs and women in their +drawing-rooms. + +Nothing is hidden now-a-days, and the fierce light of publicity beats +upon the doings of the countess and the coster-monger alike. The +countess may, perhaps, preserve a secret a little longer than the +coster-monger, and that is the only difference between them in this +regard. + +Accordingly, on the fifteenth or sixteenth day of the mystery, a +sensational morning paper published a special article detailing what +professed to be an entirely new light upon the situation. If statements +affecting the private and intimate life of anybody can be called in good +taste, the article was certainly written with a due regard to +proprieties, and with an obvious attempt to avoid hurting the feelings +of any one. But, as it was pointed out in a prefatory note, the whole +affair had passed from the regions of private life into the sphere of +national interest, and therefore it was the duty of a journal to give to +the world all and every fact which had any bearing upon the affair, +without fear or favour. + +This last article, which created a tremendous sensation, was in +substance as follows:-- + +It hinted that a young lady of great charm, and moving in the highest +circles, a young lady who had been engaged for some little time to one +of the most distinguished Englishmen of the day, had lately been much +seen with the vanished man. The gossip of society had hinted that this +could mean nothing more or less than the young lady had been mistaken in +the first disposal of her affections, and was about to make a change. + +How did this bear upon the situation? + +During the next day or two, though no names were actually printed, it +became generally known who the principal characters in the supposed +little drama of love really were. Everybody spoke freely of old Sir +Frederick Poole's distinguished daughter, of Lady Poole of Curzon +Street, and of Sir William Gouldesbrough. + +When the article first appeared everybody began to say, "Ah, now we +shall have the whole thing cleared up." But as the days went on people +began to realize that the new facts threw little new light upon the +mystery, and only provided a possible motive for Mr. Guy Rathbone's +suicide. And then once more people were compelled to ask themselves if +Mr. Rathbone really was in love with Miss Poole, and had found that +either she would have nothing to say to him, or that she was inevitably +bound to Sir William Gouldesbrough in honour. Then when, how and where +did he make away with himself? + +And to that question there was absolutely no answer. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE CHIVALROUS BARONET + + +Lady Poole and her daughter had been living in rooms in the great Palace +Hotel at Brighton for a fortnight. + +Marjorie, utterly broken down by the terrible mystery that enveloped +her, and shrinking from the fierce light that began to beat upon the +details of her private life, had implored her mother to take her from +London. + +There had been a terrible scene between the old lady and her daughter +when, the day after Marjorie had written to Sir William Gouldesbrough +telling him that she could not marry him, she had confessed the truth to +Lady Poole. + +In her anger and excitement the elder woman had said some bitter and +terrible things. She was transformed for a space from the pleasant and +easy-going society dame into something hard, furious, and even coarse. +Marjorie had shrunk in amazement and fear from the torrent of her +mother's wrath. And finally she had been able to bear it no longer, and +had lost consciousness. + +Allowances should be made for the dowager. She was a worldly woman, good +and kind as far as she went, but purely worldly and material. The hope +of her life had seemed gained when her daughter became engaged to Sir +William. The revelation that, after all, the engagement was now broken, +was nothing more than a delusion, and that a younger and ineligible man, +from the worldly point of view, had won Marjorie's affection, was a +terrible blow to the woman of the world. All her efforts seemed useless. +The object of her life, so recently gained, so thoroughly enjoyed, was +snatched away from her in a sudden moment. + +But when Marjorie had come to herself again, and the doctor had been +summoned to treat her for a nervous shock, she found her mother once +more the kindly and loved parent of old. Lady Poole had been frightened +at her own violence, and repented bitterly for what she had said. She +tended and soothed the girl in the sweetest and most motherly way. And +without disguising from Marjorie the bitter blow the girl's decision was +to her, she told her that she was prepared to accept the inevitable, and +to re-organize all her ideas for the future. + +And then had come the black mystery of Guy's utter vanishing from the +world of men and women. + +Lady Poole had always been fond of Guy Rathbone, and now, by a curious +contradiction of nature, when she had schooled herself to realize that +it was on this man her daughter's life was centred, the old lady was +terribly and genuinely affected at Guy's disappearance. No one could +have been more helpful or more sympathetic during these black hours, and +she gladly left Curzon Street for Brighton, in order that she might be +alone with her daughter and endeavour to bring her back in some measure +to happiness, or, if not happiness, to interest in life. + +Soon after Marjorie had written her letter to Sir William, Lady Poole +had received a reply from the scientist, enclosing a short note for her +daughter. + +It had been a wonderful letter. The writer said that he could not +disguise from himself that he had seen, or at least suspected, the way +things were going. + + "Terrible," he said, "as this letter of your daughter's has been to + me, it would yet ill-become me not to receive it as a man. I had + hoped and believed that a very happy life was in store for me with + Marjorie and for her with me. Then I saw that it was not to be, and + Marjorie's letter comes as no surprise, but as only the definite + and final end of my dream. Dear Lady Poole, do realize that, + despite all this, it will always be my duty and my privilege to be + the friend of you and of your daughter if you and she will permit + me to be so. I have told her so often how I love her, and I tell + her so even now. But love, as I understand it, should have the + element of self-sacrifice in it, if it is true love. I will + therefore say no more about my personal feelings, except in one + way. Just as my whole life would have been devoted to making your + daughter happy, so I now feel it is my duty to devote myself as + well as I can to making her happy in another way. She has chosen a + man no doubt more worthy to be her husband than I should ever be. + You will forgive a natural weakness if I say no more on this point, + but the great fact is that she has chosen. Therefore, I say that my + only wish is for her life-long happiness, and that all my + endeavours, such as they are, will be still devoted to that end. + Let them be happy, let them be together. And if I can promote their + happiness, even though my own heart may be broken, believe me, dear + Lady Poole, it is my most fervent wish. + + "Will you give Marjorie the enclosed little note of farewell? I + shall not trouble her more, until perhaps some day in the future we + may still be friends, though fate and her decision have forbidden + me to be anything more to her than just that. + + "Believe me, my dear Lady Poole, + "In great sorrow and in sincere friendship, + "WILLIAM GOULDESBROUGH." + +So the two ladies had gone to Brighton, and while the press of the +United Kingdom was throbbing with excitement, while hundreds of people +were endeavouring to solve the terrible mystery of Guy Rathbone's +disappearance, the girl more nearly interested in it than any one else +in the world stayed quietly with her mother at the pleasant sea-side +town, and was not molested by press or public. + +Marjorie had become, even in these few days, a ghost of her former self. +The light had faded out of her eyes, they had ceased to appear +transparent and had become opaque. Her beautifully chiselled lips now +drooped in pathetic and habitual pain, her pallor was constant and +unvarying. She drank in the keen sea breezes, and they brought no colour +to her cheeks. She walked upon the white chalk cliffs and saw nothing of +the shifting gold and shadow as the sun fell upon the sea, heard nothing +of the harmonies of the Channel winds. Her whole heart was full of a +passionate yearning and a terrible despair; she was like a stately +flower that had been put out of its warm and sheltered home into an icy +blast, and was withered and blackened in an hour. + +Kind as her mother was, Marjorie felt that there was nobody now left to +lean upon, to confide in. A girl of her temperament needs some stronger +arm than any woman can provide, to help and comfort, to keep awake the +fires of hope within her, and nothing of the sort was hers. In all the +world she seemed to have no one to confide in, no one to lean upon, no +one who would give her courage and hope for the black and impenetrable +future. + +At the end of the first fortnight, Marjorie knew, though her mother only +just referred to the matter, that letters were daily arriving from Sir +William Gouldesbrough. + +One evening Lady Poole, unable to keep the news from her daughter any +longer, told her of these communications. + +"I dare say, darling," the old lady said, "I may give you pain, but I +think you really ought to know how wonderfully poor dear William is +behaving in this sad affair. Though it must be terribly hard for him, +though it must fill him with a pain that I can only guess at, he is +moving heaven and earth to discover what has become of your poor boy. He +is daily writing to me to tell me what he is doing, to inform me of his +hopes, and I tell you, Marjorie, that if human power can discover what +has happened to Guy, William Gouldesbrough will discover it. Do realize, +dear, what a noble thing this is in the man you have rejected. Whenever +I receive his letters I can't help crying a little, it seems so noble, +so touching, and so beautiful of him." + +Marjorie was sitting at the table. The ladies dined in their private +rooms, and it was after the meal. Her head was in her hands and her eyes +were full of tears. She looked up as her mother said this, with a white, +wan face. + +"Ah, yes, dear," she replied, "there is no doubt of that, William was +always noble. He is as great in heart as he is in intellect. He is +indeed one of the chosen and best. Don't think I don't realize it, +mother, now you've told me, indeed I _do_ realize it. My whole heart is +filled with gratitude towards him. No one else would have done as much +in his position." + +"You do feel that, do you, dear?" Lady Poole said. + +"Oh, indeed I do," she answered, "though I fear that even he, great as +his intellect is, will never disperse this frightful, terrible +darkness." + +Lady Poole got up and came round to where her daughter was sitting. She +put her hand upon the shining coil of hair and said-- + +"Dear, do you think that you could bear to see him?" + +"To see William?" Marjorie answered quickly with a curious catch in her +voice. + +"Yes, darling, to see William. Would it give you too much pain?" + +"But how, why, what for?" + +"Oh, not to revive any memories of the past, there is nothing further +from his thoughts. But this morning he wrote me the very sweetest +letter, saying that in this crisis he might be able to give you a little +comfort." + +"Has he discovered anything, then?" Marjorie asked. + +"I fear not as yet. But he says that at this moment you must feel very +much alone. As you know, he is doing all that a mortal man can. Of +course, I have told him how broken you are by it all, and he thinks that +perhaps you might like to hear what he is doing, might like to confide +in him a little. 'If,' he says in his letter, 'she will receive me as a +brother, whose only wish is to help her in this terrible trial, can I +say how proud and grateful I shall be to come to her and tell her what I +can?'" + +Marjorie gave a great sob. It was too much. In her nervous and weak +condition the gentle and kindly message her mother had given her was +terribly affecting. + +"How good he is!" she murmured. "Yes, mother, if only he would come I +should like to see him." + +"Then, my dear," Lady Poole replied, "that is very easily arranged, for +he is in the hotel to-night." + +Marjorie started. Her mother went to a side table on which was a little +portable telephone. She held the receiver to her ear, and when the clerk +from the down-stairs office replied, asked that Sir William +Gouldesbrough should be told at once that Lady Poole would be very glad +to see him in Number 207. + +Marjorie rose and began to pace the room. A growing excitement mastered +her, her hands twitched, her eyes were dilated. Perhaps she was at last +going to hear something, something definite, something new, about Guy. + +There was a knock at the door. A waiter opened it, and Sir William +Gouldesbrough came into the room. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +GRATITUDE OF MISS MARJORIE POOLE + + +As the man to whom she had been engaged came into the room, Marjorie +rose to meet him. She was not embarrassed, the hour and occasion were +too serious for that, and she herself was too broken down for any +emotions save those that were intensely real and came from an anguished +heart. She went up to him, all pale and drooping, and took him by the +hand. + +"Thank you, William," she said in a low voice, and that was all. + +But in her words Gouldesbrough realized all that she was powerless to +say. He heard, with an inward thrill and leap of the pulses, an immense +respect for him, which, even in the days of their engagement, he had +never heard. + +Always, Marjorie had reverenced his attainments, never had she seemed to +be so near to him as a _man_ as now. + +He looked straight into her eyes, nor did his own flinch from her +direct and agonized gaze. The frightful power of his dominating will, +the horrible strength of his desire, the intensity of his purpose, +enabled him to face her look without a sign of tremor. + +He, this man with a marvellous intellect and a soul unutterably stained +by the most merciless perfidy, was yet able to look back at her with a +kind, sorrowful, and touching glance. + +Gouldesbrough wore no metal helmet which should make the horror of his +thoughts and knowledge plain for Marjorie to see. The man who had +committed a crime as foul and sinister as ever crime was yet, the man +who was responsible for the pale face of the girl he loved, the drooping +form, the tearful eyes, yet smiled back at her with a mask of patient +resignation, deference, and chivalry. + +"I am so glad you've come, William," Lady Poole said; "and I'm sure, +distressing as all these circumstances are, we cannot thank you enough +for what you have done and are doing. No one else in your position would +have done so much. And on Marjorie's behalf and on my own I thank you +with a full heart." + +Sir William bowed. + +Then Lady Poole, voluble as she usually was, and unabashed in almost +every circumstance hesitated a little. The situation was certainly very +delicate, almost unparalleled, indeed, and it was certainly quite +outside even her wide experience. But her voice had a genuine ring of +thankfulness and gratitude, and the real woman emerged from the veneer +of worldliness and baffled ambition. + +There was a pause for a moment, no one of the three spoke a single word. +Then Lady Poole, by an intuition, said and did exactly the right +thing--perhaps old Sir Frederick's "hobby of tact" had not been without +its use after all! She sank into a chair. + +"There's no need for any explanation, I can see that," she said with a +sigh of relief. "With any other man it would have been so different, but +it's all right, William, I can see it in your manner and in your +presence here. Then let me say once and for all, that both Marjorie and +I feel at last we have got some one with us who will help us. We have +been terribly alone. We have both felt it most poignantly. After all, +women do want a man in a crisis! You, dear William, are the last man we +should have thought of asking to help us, and yet you are the first man +who has come to do so." + +"Dear Lady Poole," Gouldesbrough answered in a quiet voice, "I think +perhaps I see a little of what you mean. I am not sure, but I think I +do. And I regard it as the greatest privilege and honour to come to you +with an offer of help and assistance in your trouble." + +He turned to the younger lady. + +"Marjorie," he said, "you must treat me just like a brother now. You +must forget all that has passed between us, and just lean on me, rely on +me, use me. Nothing could make me more happy than just that." + +Lady Poole rose again. Who shall say in the volatile brain of the good +dame that already in the exhilaration of Sir William's presence and +kindness, new hopes and ambitions were not reviving? Lady Poole was a +woman, and she was an opportunist too. Woman-like, her mind moved fast +into an imaginary future; it had always done so. And it is possible that +upon the clouded horizon of her hopes a faint star began to twinkle once +more. + +Who shall blame Lady Poole? + +"Now, my dears," she said in a more matter of fact voice, "I think +perhaps you might be happier in discussing this matter if I were to go +away. Under the circumstances, I am perfectly aware that it's not the +correct thing to do, but that is speaking only from a conventional +standpoint, and none of us here can be conventional at a moment like +this. If you would rather have me stay, just say so. But it is with +pride and pleasure that I know that I can leave you with Marjorie, +William, even under these miserable circumstances and in this unhappy +business." + +Gouldesbrough smiled sadly. + +"It is as Marjorie wishes," he said. "But I know that Marjorie knows she +can trust me." + +The great man saw that once more the girl lifted her eyes and looked at +him with something which was almost like reverence. Never before had he +seen her look at him like this. Once more the evil joy in the +possibility of victory after all leapt through his blood. + +No thought nor realization of the terrible thing he had done, of the +horrors that he and the pink-faced man in Regent's Park were even now +perfecting, came to trouble that moment of evil pride. Everybody had +always said, everybody who had been brought into contact with him, +always knew that Sir William Gouldesbrough was a strong man! + +Lady Poole waited a moment to see if her daughter made any sign of +wishing her to remain, and finding that there was none, for Marjorie was +standing with drooping head and made no movement, the dowager swept out +of the room with rustling skirts, and gently closed the door. + +Sir William and Marjorie were left alone. + +The man of action asserted himself. + +"Sit down, Marjorie," he said in a commonplace tone, "and just let me +talk to you on pure matters of fact. Now, my dear, we haven't seen each +other since you wrote me the letter telling me that our engagement was a +mistake. You know what my reply to that was, and I believe and trust you +know that I shall remain perfectly true to both the spirit and actual +words of that communication. That's all we need say now, except just +this: I loved you dearly and I love you dearly now. I had hoped that we +might have been very happy together and that I might have spent my life +in your service. But that was not to be in the way that I had hoped. At +the same time, I am not a man easily moved or changed, and if I cannot +be yours in one way, dear girl, I will be yours in another. However, +that's all about that. Now, then, let me tell you how hard I have been +trying to discover the truth of this astounding disappearance of poor +Mr. Guy Rathbone." + +A low sob came from the girl in the chair. It was a sob not only of +regret for her lost lover, but it had the same note of reverence, of +utter appreciation, of her first words. + +"You are too good," she said. "William, I have treated you horribly +badly. You are too good. Oh, you are _too_ good!" + +"Hush!" he said in a sharp staccato voice. "We agreed that aspect of +the question wasn't to be spoken of any more. The past is the past, and, +my dear little girl, I beg you to realize it. You loved poor Guy +Rathbone, and he seems to have been wiped out of ordinary life. My +business is to find him again for you, so that you may be happy. I have +been trying to do the utmost in my power for days. I have done +everything that my mind could suggest, and as yet nothing has occurred. +Now, Marjorie, let's just be business-like. Tell me what you think about +the matter, and I will tell you what I think. See if our two brains +cannot hit on something which will help us." + +"William," she said with a full note, a chord rather, of deep pain in +her voice--"William, I don't know what to think. I can't understand it. +I am lost in utter darkness. There seems no possible reason why he +should have gone away. I can only think that the worst has happened, and +that some terrible people must have killed him." + +"But why?" + +"Oh," she answered almost hysterically, "he was so beautiful and so +strong. They must have killed him because he was so different to other +men." She did not see the tall man who sat before her wince and quiver. +She did not see his face change and contort itself into malignancy. She +did not realize that these innocent words, wrung from a simple +distressed and loving heart, meant awful things for the man she longed +for. + +"But, Marjorie," the voice came steady and strong, "you know that is +just a little fantastic, if you will forgive me for saying so. People +don't go about injuring other people because they are better-looking or +have finer natures than themselves. They only say unkind things about +them, they don't kill them, you know." + +"Oh, of course, you are right, William," she answered, "and I hardly +know what I'm saying, the pain of it all is so great. But then, there +_is_ nothing to say. I can't understand, I can hardly realize what has +happened." + +"For my part," Sir William answered, "I have left no stone unturned to +discover the truth. I have been in communication with every force or +agency which might be able to explain the thing. And no one has given me +the slightest hint, except perhaps----" + +She leapt up from her chair, her pale face changed. + +"Yes?" she cried, "What is it? What is that?" + +Her breath came thick and fast. Sir William remained sitting in his +chair and his head was bowed. + +"Sit down, Marjorie," he answered; "I didn't mean to say that." + +"But you said it," she replied. "Ah! my ears are very keen, and there +was something in your voice which had meaning. William, what is it? What +is it?" + +"Nothing," he answered in a deep, decisive voice. + +But the voice brought no conviction to her ears. She had detected, or +thought she had detected, the note of an inner knowledge when he had +first spoken. She crossed the room with rapid strides and laid her white +hand upon his shoulder. + +"You've _got_ to tell me," she said imperiously. And her touch thrilled +him through and through with an exquisite agony and an exquisite joy. + +"It's nothing," he repeated. + +Now there was less conviction than ever in his voice. She laughed +hysterically. "William," she said, "I know you so well, you can't hide +anything from me. There's something you can tell me. Whatever it may be, +good or bad, you've just _got_ to tell me." + +At that he looked up at her, and his face, she saw, was drawn and +frightened. + +"Marjorie," he said, "don't let any words of mine persuade you into any +belief. Since you ask me I must say what I have got to say. But mind +you, I am in no way convinced myself that what I am going to tell you is +more than mere idle supposition." + +"Tell me," she whispered, and her voice hissed like escaping steam. + +"Well, it's just this," he said, "and it's awfully hard for me even to +hint such a thing to you. But, you know, Rathbone had recently made +rather a friend of poor Eustace Charliewood. I like Charliewood; you +never did. A man's point of view and a girl's point of view are quite +different about a man. But of course I can't pretend that Charliewood is +exactly, well--er--what you might call--I don't know quite how to put +it, Marjorie." + +"I know," she said with a shudder of disgust "I know. Go on." + +"Well, just before Rathbone disappeared those two seemed to have been +about together a good deal, and of course Charliewood is a man who has +some rather strange acquaintances, especially in the theatrical world. +That is to say, in the sub-theatrical world. Marjorie, I hardly know how +to put it to you, and I think I had better stop." + +"Go on!" she cried once more. + +"Well," he said wearily, "Rathbone was a good fellow, no doubt, but he +is a young man, and no girl really knows what the life of a young man +really is or may be. I know that Charliewood introduced Rathbone to a +certain girl. Oh, Marjorie, I can't go on, these suspicions are +unworthy." + +"Terribly unworthy," she cried, standing up to her full height, and then +in a moment she drooped to him, and once more she asked him to go on. + +He told her of certain meetings, saying that there could have been, of +course, no harm in them, skilfully hinting at this or that, and then +testifying to his utter disbelief in the suspicions that he himself had +provoked. She listened to him, growing whiter and whiter. At last his +hesitating speech died away into silence, and she stood looking at him. + +"It might be," she whispered, half to herself, "it might be, but I do +not think it _could_ be. No man could be so unutterably cruel, so +unutterably base. I have made you tell me this, William, and I know that +you yourself do not believe it. He could not be so wicked as to +sacrifice everything for one of those people." + +And then Sir William rose. + +"No," he said, "he couldn't. I feel it, though I don't know him. +Marjorie, no living man could leave you for one of the vulgar syrens of +the half world." + +She looked at him for a moment as he put the thing in plain language, +and then burst into a passion of weeping. + +"I can't bear any more, William," she said between her sobs. "Go now, +but find him. Oh, find him!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A MAN ABOUT TOWN PAYS A DEBT + + +The people in the luxurious smoking-room of the great Palace Hotel saw a +pale, ascetic-looking and very distinguished man come in to the +comfortable place and sit down upon a lounge. + +"Do you know who that is?" one man whispered to another, flicking the +ash off a cigar. + +"No; who is he?" his companion answered. + +"That's Sir William Gouldesbrough." + +"Oh, the great scientific Johnny, you mean." + +"Yes, they say that he is going to turn the world topsy-turvy before +he's done." + +"The world's good enough for me," was the reply, "and if I'd my way, +these people who invent things should all be taken out and shot. I'm +tired of inventions, they make life move too quickly. The good old times +were best, when it took eight hours to get from Brighton to London, and +one could not have telegrams from one's office to worry one." + +"Perhaps you're right," said the first man. "But still, people look at +things differently now-a-days. At any rate, Gouldesbrough is said to be +one of the leading men in England to-day." + +"He doesn't look happy over it," replied his companion. "He looks like a +death's-head." + +"Well, you know, he's mixed up in the Rathbone mystery in a sort of +way." + +"Oh yes, of course; he was engaged to the girl who chucked him over for +the Johnny who has disappeared, wasn't he?" + +"That's it. Just watch him, poor wretch; doesn't he look pipped?" + +"Upon my word, the perspiration's standing out on his forehead in beads. +He seems as if----" + +"As if he had been overworking and overeating. He wants a Turkish bath, +I expect. Now then, Jones, what do you really think about the fall in +South Africans? Will they recover in the next two months? That's what I +want to know; that's what I want to be certain of." + +Sir William had just left the up-stairs apartments of the Pooles. He had +rung for the lift and entered, without a word to the attendant, who had +glanced fearfully at the tall, pale man with the flashing eyes and the +wet face. Once or twice the lift-man noticed that the visitor raised his +hand to his neck above the collar and seemed to press upon it, and it +may have been fancy on the lift-man's part--though he was not an +imaginative person--but he seemed to hear a sound like a drum beating +under a blanket, and he wondered if the gentleman was troubled with +heart-disease. + +Gouldesbrough pressed the little electric bell upon the oak table in +front of him, and in a moment a waiter appeared. + +"Bring me a large brandy and soda," he said in a quiet voice. + +The waiter bowed and hurried away. + +The waiter did not know, being a foreigner, and unacquainted with the +tittle-tattle of the day, that Sir William Gouldesbrough, the famous +scientist, was generally known to be a practical teetotaller, and one +who abhorred the general use of alcoholic beverages. + +When the brandy came, amber in the electric lights of the smoking-room, +and with a piece of ice floating in the liquid, Sir William took a small +white tabloid from a bottle in his pocket and dropped it into the glass. +It fizzed, spluttered, and disappeared. + +Then he raised the tumbler to his lips, and as he did so the floating +ice tinkled against the sides of the glass like a tiny alarum. + +"Nerves gone," the stock-broking gentleman close by said to his friend, +with a wink. + +In five minutes or so, after he had lit a cigarette, Gouldesbrough rose +and left the smoking-room. He put on his coat in the hall and went out +of the front door. + +It was not yet late, and the huge crescent of electric lights, which +seemed to stretch right away beyond Hove to Worthing, gleamed like a +gigantic coronet. + +It was a clear night. The air was searching and keen, and it seemed to +steady the scientist as he walked down the steps and came out from under +the hotel portico on to the pavement. + +A huge round moon hung over the sea, which was moaning quietly. The +lights in front of the Alhambra Music Hall gleamed brightly, and on the +promenade by the side of the shore innumerable couples paced and +re-paced amid a subdued hum of talk and laughter. + +The pier stretched away into the water like a jewelled snake. It was +Brighton at ten o'clock, bright, gay, and animated. + +Sir William was staying at the Brighton Royal, the other great hotel +which towers up upon the front some quarter of a mile away from the +Palace, where Marjorie and Lady Poole were. + +He strode through the crowds, seeing nothing of them, hearing nothing +but the beat of his own heart. + +Even for a man so strong as he, the last hour had been terrible. Never +before in all his life, at the moment of realization when some great +scientific theory had materialized into stupendous fact, when first +Marjorie had promised to marry him--at any great crisis of his life--had +he undergone so furious a strain as this of the last hour. + +He came out of the Palace Hotel, knowing that he had carried out his +intentions with the most consummate success. He came out of it, +realizing that not half-a-dozen men in England could have done what he +had done, and as the keen air smote upon his face like a blow from the +flat of a sword, he realized also that not six men in England, walking +the pleasant, happy streets of any town, were so unutterably stained and +immeasurably damned as he. + +As he passed through the revolving glass doors of his own hotel, and the +hall-porters touched their caps, he exerted all the powers of his will. + +He would no longer remember or realize what he had done and what it +meant to him. He would only rejoice in his achievement, and he banished +the fear that comes even to the most evil when they know they have +committed an almost unpardonable sin. + +He did not use the lift to go to his sitting-room on the second floor; +he ran lightly up the stairs, wanting the exercise as a means of +banishing thought. + +He entered his own room, switched on the electric light, took off his +coat, and stood in front of the fire, stretching his arms in pure +physical weariness. + +Yes! That was over! Another step was taken. Once more he had progressed +a step towards his desire, in spite of the most adverse happenings and +the most forbidding aspects of fate. + +The unaccustomed brandy at the Palace Hotel, and the bromide solution he +had dropped into it, had calmed his nerves, and suddenly he laughed +aloud in the rich, silent room, a laugh of pure triumph and excitement. + +Even as the echoes of his voice died away, his eyes fell upon the table +and saw that there was a letter lying there addressed to him. The +address was written in a well-known handwriting. He took it up, tore +open the envelope and read the communication. + +It was this-- + + "I have been down here for several days, trying to escape from + London and the thoughts which London gives me. But it has been + quite useless. I saw to-day, quite by chance, in the hotel + register, that you have arrived here. I did not think that we were + ever likely to meet again, except in the most casual way. I hope + not. Since I have been here, the torture of my life has increased a + thousand-fold, and I have come to the conclusion that my life must + stop. I am not fit to live. I don't blame you too much, because if + I hadn't been a scoundrel and a wastrel all my life, I should never + have put myself in your hands. As far as your lights go, you have + acted well to me. You have paid me generously for the years of + dirty work I have done at your bidding. For what I have done + lately, you have made me financially free, and I shall die owing no + man a penny, and with no man, save you only, knowing that I die + without hope--lost, degraded and despairing. Don't think I blame + you, William Gouldesbrough, because I don't. When I was at Eton, I + was always a pleasure-loving little scug. I was the same at Oxford. + I have been the same in all my life in town. I have never been any + good to myself, and I have disappointed all the hopes my people had + for me. It's all been my own fault. Then I became entangled with + you, and I was too weak to resist the money you were prepared to + pay me for the things I have done for you. + + "But it's all over now. I have gone too far. I have helped you, and + am equally guilty with you, to commit a frightful crime. Lax as I + have always been, I can no longer feel I have any proper place + among men of my own sort. All I can say is that I am glad I shall + die without anybody knowing what I really am. + + "I write this note after dinner, and, finding the number of your + room from the hotel clerk, I leave it here for you to see. I am + going to make an end of it all in an hour or two, when I have + written a few notes to acquaintances and so on. I can't go on + living, Gouldesbrough, because night and day, day and night, I am + haunted by the thought of that poor young man you have got in your + foul house in Regent's Park. What you are doing to him I don't + know. The end of your revenge I can only guess at. But it is all so + horrible that I am glad to be done with life. I wish you good-bye; + and I wish to God--if there is really a God--that I had never + crossed your path and never been your miserable tool. + + "EUSTACE CHARLIEWOOD." + +As Sir William Gouldesbrough read this letter, his whole tall figure +became rigid. He seemed to stiffen as a corpse stiffens. + +Then, quite suddenly, he turned round and pushed the letter into the +depths of the glowing fire, pressing the paper down with the poker until +every vestige of it was consumed. + +He strode to the door of the room, opened it, came out into the wide +carpeted corridor and hurried up to the lift. + +He pressed the button and heard it ring far down below. + +In a minute or two there came the clash of the shutting doors, the +"chunk" of the hydraulic mechanism, and he saw the shadow of the +lift-roof rising up towards him. + +The attendant opened the door. + +"Will you take me up to the fourth floor, please," he said, "to Mr. +Eustace Charliewood's room?" + +"Mr. Charliewood, sir?" the man replied. "Oh, yes, I remember, number +408. Tall, clean-shaved gentleman." + +"That's him," Sir William said. "I have only just learnt that he has +been staying in the hotel. He is an old friend, and I had no idea he was +here." + +The iron doors clashed, the lift shot upward, and the attendant and Sir +William arrived at the fourth floor. + +"Down the corridor, sir, and the first turning on the right," the +lift-man said. "But perhaps I'd better show you." + +He ran the ironwork gates over their rollers and hurried down the +corridor with Sir William. They turned the corner, and the man pointed +to a door some fifteen yards away. + +"That's it, sir," he said. "That's Mr. Charliewood's room." + +Even as he spoke there was a sudden loud explosion which seemed to come +from the room to which he had pointed--a horrid crash in the warm, +richly-lit silence of the hotel. + +The man turned to Sir William with a white face. + +"Come on," he said, forgetting his politeness. "Something has happened. +Come, quick!" + +When they burst into the room they found the man about town lying upon +the hearth-rug with a little blue circle edged with crimson in the +centre of his forehead. The hands were still moving feebly, but what had +been Eustace Charliewood was no longer there. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +BEEF TEA AND A PHOSPHATE SOLUTION + + +Sir William Gouldesbrough remained in Brighton for three days. Eustace +Charliewood had died in two minutes after the lift-man and the scientist +had burst into the room. The suicide had said no word, and indeed was +absolutely unconscious from the moment the shot had been fired, until +his almost immediate death. + +Sir William had made all the necessary arrangements. He had communicated +with old Sir Miles Charliewood, of Norfolk, he had expedited the +arrangements for the inquest, and he was, as the newspapers said, +"overcome with grief at the death of his old and valued friend." + +During the three days, the demeanour of the famous scientist was +reported on with great admiration in all quarters. He had known of +nothing to cause Mr. Eustace Charliewood any trouble or worry, and he +was struck down by the loss he had sustained. + +"It shows," many of the leading people in Brighton said to each other, +"that science is, after all, not the de-humanizing agency it is +popularly said to be. Here is perhaps the most famous scientific man of +the age, grieving like a brother for his friend, a mere society man of +charming manners and without any intellectual attainments. Melancholy as +the occasion is, it has served to bring out some fine and noble traits +in a man whose private life has always been something of a mystery to +the public." + +The inquest was a short one. There were few witnesses. One or two +intimate friends of the dead man came down from London--club friends +these--and testified that they knew of nothing which could have prompted +the suicide, though the dead man had been noticed to be somewhat +depressed for the last fortnight or so. + +Sir William himself, in a short but learned exposition given during the +course of his evidence, pronounced it as his opinion that Eustace +Charliewood had been suddenly seized by one of those unexplainable +impulses of mania which, like a scarlet thread, sometimes lurk +unsuspected for years in the pearly cells of the brain. + +His view was accepted by the coroner and the jury, and the usual verdict +of temporary insanity was returned. + +"He was," Sir William had said at the close of the evidence and in a +voice broken with deep feeling, "the best and truest friend I have ever +had. Our walks in life were utterly different. He took no interest in, +nor did he understand, my scientific work. And I, on the other hand, +took very little part in the social duties and amusements which made up +the greater part of Mr. Eustace Charliewood's life. Perhaps for that +very reason we were the more closely drawn together. No one will ever +know, perhaps, the real underlying goodness, generosity and faithfulness +in my dead friend's character. I cannot go into details of his private +life, I can only say that the mysterious seizure which has robbed +society of one of its ornaments, has taken from the world a gentleman in +every thought and deed, a type of man we can ill afford to lose in the +England of to-day." + +Young Lord Landsend, who, with Mr. Percy Alemare, had attended the +inquest from London, looked at his friend with a somewhat cynical smile, +as the deep voice of Sir William Gouldesbrough faltered in its +peroration. Mr. Percy Alemare replied to the smile with a momentary +wink. Both of the young men were very sorry that Eustace Charliewood had +dropped out so suddenly. They had liked him well enough, but they +certainly had not discerned the innate nobility of character, so +feelingly set forth by Sir William Gouldesbrough, and so fully reported +by the newspaper-men present. + +Afterwards, in the hotel, old Sir Miles Charliewood had shaken the +scientist warmly by the hand. + +"What I have heard you say, Sir," he said, "comforted me very much. I +wish poor Eustace's eldest brother had been here to hear you say it. But +James is in India with his regiment. Eustace did not come to us at +Charliewood Hall. There were family reasons of long standing, why there +was a breach between his family and himself. These, Sir William, I will +not enter into here. But death heals all breaches, and remembering +Eustace as a bright and happy boy at Eton, before we became estranged, I +feel a father's natural sorrow. But let me say, Sir William, once more, +that you have lightened that sorrow somewhat. I had regarded my son as +living a useless and selfish life upon the allowance I was in the habit +of paying into his bank. To hear that there was an underlying strata of +goodness and nobleness in his character is indeed a solace." + +Sir William had bowed, and old Sir Miles, a courtly old gentleman of +great age, whose grief had not prevented him from making an excellent +dinner the evening before, and from passing somewhat acrid criticisms +upon the hotel wine, drove away to the station, smoking a cigar, and +feeling that the troublesome and unpleasant episode was well over. + +Thus, Mr. Eustace Charliewood, man about town, made his sudden exit from +Vanity Fair. + +Thus, Sir William Gouldesbrough, F.R.S., had another secret to lock up +in the sombre recesses of his brain. + +During the three days that he had been forced to remain in Brighton by +the tragedy, Sir William had seen something of the two ladies at the +Palace Hotel. + +Both Lady Poole and Marjorie during that time had come insensibly to +lean upon him, and to ask his advice about this or that. A terrible gap +had been created in Marjorie's life, and though Gouldesbrough could not +fill it, he came at the right moment to comfort and sustain. + +Before he returned to London, Sir William had gradually glided into a +new relation with the girl to whom he had been engaged. He found his +power over her had increased. She was more dependent and subservient in +her great trouble than she had ever been during the time when she was +promised to be his wife, and he must sue for favours. + +And Gouldesbrough noticed also that, though the girl's grief seemed in +no way lessened her hopes of ever seeing Guy Rathbone again seemed to +be dwindling. The cunning words that he had spoken, the little hint of a +vulgar Circe was perhaps beginning to germinate within Marjorie's brain. +She was too loyal to believe any such statement, but, nevertheless, it +had an unconscious influence with her. At any rate, she began to cease +discussion of the mystery, and there was the hinting of a coming +resignation to the hard and impenetrable fact. + +This at least was what Sir William Gouldesbrough deduced. + +Trained watcher of the mind and human impulse as he was, psychologist of +marvellous knowledge and penetration, he began to see, or so he thought +to himself, that all was not yet lost, that it might well be that the +events of the last few weeks would some day--not yet or soon, but some +day--place him upon a higher pedestal than ever before. + +On the evening of the fourth day after his arrival, Sir William +Gouldesbrough returned to town. In the afternoon he had driven with Lord +Landsend and Percy Alemare to the cemetery. + +It had been a cold and blustering afternoon, and the plain hearse and +the single carriage that followed it had trotted through the +semi-deserted streets until the grave-side was reached. The shivering +vicar of a neighbouring church, whose turn it was to take the cemetery +duty for the week, had said the words of the burial-service, and in some +half-an-hour all that was mortal of Mr. Eustace Charliewood had +disappeared for ever and a day. + +He would never stroll up Bond Street in his fur coat any more. Never +again would he chat with the head-waiter upon the important question of +a lunch. No longer would Mr. Proctor, the masseur, set the little rubber +hammers to beat out the lines of dissipation upon that weak and handsome +face. Mr. Eustace Charliewood had resigned his membership of the St. +James's Street Clubs, and had passed out of Vanity Fair into the night. + +After the funeral, Gouldesbrough went to say good-bye to Lady Poole and +Marjorie. His last words to them were these-- + +"I shall go on," he said, "doing all that I can in every possible way. +And everything that I do I will let you know, and if I can discover the +slightest clue to this terrible mystery, you shall hear it at once. But +don't buoy yourself up with false hopes, that is all I ask. None of us +can say what the future may have in store, but for my part I have not +much hope. It may seem a cruel thing for me to say, Marjorie, but I +think it is my duty to say it. Bear up and be brave, and remember that I +am always close by to do anything I can in any and every way to help you +and your mother." + +And when he had gone, the two ladies, sitting in the twilight before the +glowing fire in the open hearth of the hotel sitting-room, had felt that +something, some one, who had become necessary to them, had departed. + +Sir William Gouldesbrough travelled up to Victoria in a Pullman car. He +sat in his arm-chair before a little table, on which was a pile of +evening papers. During the first ten minutes he had glanced through all +of them, and only one part of the news' columns claimed his +attention--this was the portion of the paper devoted to the "Rathbone +Mystery." + +He noticed that already the clamour and agitation was beginning to die +down. The shrewd purveyors of news were beginning to realize that the +mystery was not likely to be solved, and that the public appetite was +satiated with it. + +The two columns or more which had been usual in the early days of +Rathbone's disappearance, had now dwindled to a single three-quarters of +a column. Sir William realized that the public interest was already +dying out. + +For a few minutes, when he had methodically folded the papers in a pile, +he allowed his thoughts to dwell upon the recent incidents at Brighton. + +Charliewood had killed himself. What did that mean? It simply meant that +Eustace Charliewood was out of the way. The baronet had not a single +regret in his mind. Despite the geniality of his manner to his late +henchman, when circumstances had seemed to require that, he had regarded +him as simply a servant and a tool, and as of considerably less +importance in the scheme of things than, say, a delicate induction coil, +or a new drum armature. + +Then there was Marjorie. In his quick summarizing way, allowing no +emotion to enter his brain at the moment, Sir William reviewed that +aspect of his Brighton visit too. Well, that also was satisfactory. +Things were going indeed far better than he had hoped. He had +accomplished exactly what he had meant to do, rather more indeed, and he +had done so with singular success. His position with Lady Poole and her +daughter was perhaps stronger than it had ever been, even in the days +when his position was, so to speak, an official one. Good again! + +And with that, the cool, hard intellect dismissed personal affairs +entirely, and with a sigh of relief the physical body of the man leant +back in his chair, while the brain went swiftly and gladly into the high +realms of science. + +At Victoria, Sir William's motor brougham was waiting, and he was driven +swiftly through the lighted streets of London towards his own house in +Regent's Park. He smoked a cigar and bent forward, looking at the moving +panorama of people under the gas-lamps, as a man sits in an arm-chair +and lets the world defile before him. And as he watched the countless +throngs, streams that moved and pulsed in the arteries of the great city +as the blood moves and pulses in the veins and arteries of man, he was +filled with a tremendous exultation and pride. + +Soon, ah, soon! he would be master of every single mind and soul that, +housed in its envelope of flesh, flitted so rapidly past the windows of +the swift-moving machine in which he sat. + +No secrets, great or small, noble or petty, worthy or evil, would be +hidden from him, and he, alone, by the power of his intellect and the +abnormal force of his will, had wrested from nature the most stupendous +and mysterious of all her secrets. + +There was but little more to be done now, before the great invention +would be shown to the leading scientists of the world. + +Already slight hints, thin rumours of what was being done in the +laboratories of Regent's Park, were beginning to filter through the most +important scientific circles. A paper read by Sir William at the British +Association, a guarded article contributed to the _Nineteenth Century_, +propounding some most daring theories as to the real action of the +mind, had already prepared some of the shrewdest brains in Europe for a +possible revelation of something stupendously startling in the realms of +scientific achievement. + +A few keen and brilliant brains had realized, if Sir William was right, +even in these preliminary conclusions, whither the conclusions tended. +Lesser scientists who could not see so far, knew nothing. The man in the +street was only aware that the great scientist had been working for +years upon abstruse problems which had no interest for him whatever. + +But, nevertheless, in the highest circles, there was an indubitable stir +and rumour. + +Yes! But little now remained to be done before absolute perfection of +the invention was obtained. A few more experiments, more delicate and +decisive than any that had gone before, still remained to be made. The +apparatus itself was completed. Its working under certain conditions was +certain. It was still necessary, however, to test it by means of +continuous experiments upon a living human brain. + +During the last year of their work, Gouldesbrough and Wilson Guest had +begun to realize this last necessity with increasing conviction. They +saw that the coping-stone of the marvellous edifice which they had +slowly built up through the years, was now resolving itself into this, +and this alone. Neither had said as much to each other in so many +words, until some four months ago. Then, upon one memorable night, when, +excited by drink to an unusual freedom and openness of speech, Guest had +voiced the unspoken thought of his master and himself. + +A human brain, a living human brain, in a living human body was an +absolute and final requirement. + +There were not wanting, there never have been wanting, scientific +enthusiasts who will submit themselves to experiment. But in this case a +voluntary subject was impossible, for reasons which will presently +appear. It became a definite problem with the two men as to how, and by +what means, they should obtain a living creature who should be +absolutely subject to their will. + +And then chance had provided Sir William with the unique opportunity. He +had seen his way to rid himself of a hated rival, and to provide a +subject for experiment at one and the same time. He had not hesitated. +Brains so far removed from the ordinary sphere of humanity as his never +hesitate at anything. + +Guy Rathbone had disappeared. + +The motor stopped at the door in the great, grim wall which surrounded +Sir William's house. He said good-night to the chauffeur who looked +after his two cars at a garage some half-a-mile away, and opened the +wicket with his key. + +As he walked through the dark garden and saw the great square block of +the house looming up before him, it was with a quickening sense of +anticipation and pleasure. All the worries of his life were momentarily +over and done with, he was coming back to his great passion, to his life +work, the service of science! + +It was about ten o'clock, and as he opened the front door and came into +the hall, everything was silent and still. He lifted up the padded stick +which hung beside the dinner-gong and struck the metal, standing still +while the deep booming note echoed mournfully through the house. + +The butler did not answer the summons. Sir William realized that the man +must be out; Wilson Guest had probably given the servants an evening's +holiday for some purpose of his own. + +He crossed the dimly-lit hall, pushed open the baize door which led to +the study, and entered his own room. + +The fire was burning brightly, the electric lights glowed, but the place +was quite empty. On his writing-table were a pile of letters, on a round +table set beside the fire was a cold chicken and a bottle of claret. +Obviously his first surmise had been right, and the servants were out. + +He left the study, proceeded onwards down the passage and unlocked +another door, a door through which no one but himself and Guest were +allowed to penetrate, a door that was always kept locked, and which led +to the laboratories, mechanical rooms, and invention studios, which had +been built out at the back of the house over what were once the tennis +lawns, and occupied a considerable area. + +Locking the door behind him, Sir William went on down a short passage. +The first door on the right had the letter "A" painted on it in white. + +He opened this door and looked in. + +The room was empty, though it was brilliantly lit. It was a place filled +with large tables, on which there were drawing instruments, sheets of +figures and tracings. + +Guest was not there. + +Closing the door again and passing onward, Sir William entered the +chemical laboratory, a long, low place, lit by a sky-light in day, and +by electricity at night. As he opened the door quietly, he heard sounds +of movement. And then immediately, at the far end of the laboratory, he +saw the man he was looking for. + +The place was in entire darkness save at one end, where two incandescent +bulbs glowed above an experiment table. + +The assistant was bending over a Bunsen burner above which a large glass +tube was clamped, in which some liquid was boiling. + +Suddenly he heard Sir William's advancing footsteps, and leapt up. For a +single moment the grey-pink hairless face was suffused with furtive +terror at the sound. It shone out in the light of the lamps clear and +distinct, though the lower part of the body was hidden by the darkness. + +"Here you are then," Gouldesbrough said. "The whole house seems +deserted." + +Guest sighed with relief, and then began to titter in his curious, +almost feminine, way-- + +"By Jove!" he said, "you startled me, William. I had no idea when you'd +be back. My nerves are like lumps of wet velvet. He! he!" + +His hand shook as he came forward to greet his chief. Sir William knew +well that this man was a consistent and secret drunkard, and he never +made any comment on the fact. Guest was at liberty to do exactly as he +pleased, to gratify his vices to the full--because Guest, drunk or +sober, was a complete and brilliant helper, and because Sir William not +only could not do without him, but knew that the man was his, body and +mind, so long as he was allowed to indulge himself as he would. Yet, as +the greater man shook hands with the lesser, he was conscious of a +sudden thrill of repulsion at the filthy fears of the sensualist. + +"Yes, I'm back," Gouldesbrough answered, "and everything has gone very +well. I suppose you have seen that Eustace Charliewood killed himself?" + +"Yes, I did," Guest answered, "and for a few hours I was considerably +troubled about it. Then I saw by the paper that you were down there, so +I knew it would be all right. He never said anything, of course, or left +anything behind him?" + +"Only a letter to me, which I destroyed." + +"Good," Guest answered, and his interest in Eustace Charliewood and his +end ceased immediately. "Well, I've lots to tell you. I've gone as far +as I could on my own lines, but I've been longing for you to come back. +My dear William, it's simply splendid! How right you have been always! +How absolutely necessary it was to have a living brain to experiment +on!" + +"How is the man, in good health?" + +"Well, of course there's been a considerable waste of tissue, and the +absolute lack of exercise has had its effect. But the cell is well +ventilated with an electric fan which I keep constantly going, and I +allow the subject to read two or three hours every day--such books as he +may ask for. The rest of the time I turn out the light, after I have +fixed on the cap. I find that the thought images thrown upon the screen +in room "D" are more vivid when the subject is kept in darkness. Still, +speaking as a whole, the physical health is good, and it's singular how +vivid the thought pictures are, which shows that the cerebrum is in a +perfectly strong and healthy condition. As you know, it is from that +part of the brain we get all our voluntary and actual pictures; +therefore, we are to be congratulated that there is no weakness in that +regard so far. Still, when you came in, I was just preparing a phosphate +solution which I'm going to mix with the subject's soup, which he will +take in an hour or so. Three or four days' phosphate treatment will +intensify the vibrations within the magnetic field of the cap. I was +doing this in view of your return, when we shall really begin to +experiment seriously." + +"Have you had any trouble, physical trouble I mean, with the subject?" +Gouldesbrough asked. + +"Oh, no," Guest replied indifferently. "Of course he's as strong as a +horse, but the aluminium fetters and the system of india-rubber cord +that you suggested, have proved all that was necessary. I can render him +quite helpless directly I get inside the cell and before he could +possibly reach me. Then fitting the cap is a simple matter. The head is +rigid in the vulcanite depression which encloses the neck, and there is +no resistance at all." + +"Good," Gouldesbrough answered. "Curiously enough, I found that design +in a strange old book published at the time of the Reformation, +detailing some of the methods of the Holy Office in Spain, with +appropriate wood cuts." + +Guest chuckled horribly. + +"Of course as yet," Gouldesbrough went on in calm, even tones, "the +subject has not the slightest idea what the experiments mean? He doesn't +know why you fit on the receiver? He is quite in the dark?" + +"Entirely," Guest answered, "and he is at a loss to imagine what we are +doing to him." + +"Ah, well," Gouldesbrough replied, "when we do tell him----" + +"It will be lovely," the assistant replied, tittering once more, "to +watch the pictures that come on the screen when he knows that we are +reading his inmost thoughts when he tries to control them, to alter +them, and fails in his agony! When he realizes that he doesn't belong to +himself any more!" + +The creature rubbed its plump and delicate hands together in an ecstasy +of evil enjoyment. + +"I suppose," Gouldesbrough said with some slight hesitation, "you've +gathered a good deal of the fellow's opinions, memories, etc., lately?" + +"Never had such an amusing time in all my life," Guest answered. "I've +gone down and put on the cap and tied him up, and I've come up and sat +alone in front of the screen in Room "D," turned on the generating +current and sat in an arm-chair with a bottle of whisky at my side, and +laughed till I cried! You'll learn a few home truths about yourself, +William, before very long. The curious thing is, that whenever your +picture comes upon the screen, it's all distorted. You are a fairly +passable-looking man, as men go, William, but you should see yourself as +this man sees you in his brain." + +He laughed once more, malicious and horrible laughter which echoed high +up in the sky-light of this weird and empty place. + +Gouldesbrough made an impatient movement. + +"How do you mean?" he said. + +"Well," Guest answered, intensely enjoying the situation, "I've seen a +good many pictures of nasty ugly looking devils and monsters, and I've +been in the Weirtz Museum at Brussels, but no artist who ever painted or +drew, and no man who ever modelled in wax, ever made such a face as this +man's brain makes of you, when he thinks of you!" + +Gouldesbrough laughed grimly. + +"Poor devil," he said indifferently, "he naturally would. But I'm glad +we have got such an excellent brain for experiment. The Pons Varolii +must be exceptionally active." + +"I should think it was," Guest answered. "You should see the pictures +that come on the screen when he is thinking of Marjorie Poole!" + +Gouldesbrough started. + +"How do you mean?" he said. + +"Well," Guest replied, turning off the blue flame of the Bunsen burner, +and stirring the mixture in the test-tube with a glass rod--"well, +Marjorie Poole's a pretty girl, but when this man calls her up in his +memory, she's a sort of angel. You know what a difficulty we had when we +got over the Lithium lines in the ash of the muscular tissue of the +blood, which had to be translated through the new spectroscope into +actual colour upon the screen? Well, we did get over it, but when the +subject thinks of Marjorie Poole, the colour all fades out of the +picture, the actual primary colours, I mean. The girl flashes out into +the dark in white light, like a sort of angel! and the first time I saw +it I jumped up from my chair, shut off the connecting switch and turned +up the lamps. It was so unlike any of the other pictures we have ever +got, and for a moment I thought I had been over-doing it a little in the +whisky line." + +Gouldesbrough stopped the strange inhuman creature in his unholy +amusement. + +"Well, I'm going to bed now," he said. "We'll begin work to-morrow. I +saw some supper put out for me in the study." + +"Right oh," Guest answered. "Good-night then, William. I'm going to take +the beef broth and phosphates to our Brain down below in the cell." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE TOMB-BOUND MAN + + +Mr. Guest had visited his victim and had gone. + +Supper was over. Beef-tea and phosphorous! and Mr. Guest had said his +mocking words of good-night. + +"Sleep well, Mr. Rathbone! I shall not be compelled to ask you to wear +that pretty metal cap until to-morrow, so I won't turn out the light. +You have a book to read, you've had your supper, and I wish you a +pleasant time alone. No doubt you will occupy your leisure in thinking +of Miss Marjorie Poole. You'll recall that occasion in a certain room +hung with pink, when you kissed her by the side of the piano in the +white and gold case! I know you often recall that happy incident." + +He had closed the heavy steel door with a last chuckle of malice and +power, leaving the prisoner white and shaking with fear. How did this +sinister and devilish gaoler know his intimate thoughts? + +He groaned deeply, and then, as he had done a thousand times before, +gazed round the place in which he was in terror-struck amazement. Where +was he? _What_ was this horrible prison with all its strange +contrivances, its inexplicable mysteries? + +He was in a large stone cell, brilliantly lit at this moment by two +incandescent electric bulbs in the vaulted ceiling far above his head. A +long time ago now, how long he could not have said, he was Gerald +Rathbone, a man living in the world, seeing the sunlight and breathing +the air of day. He had been Gerald Rathbone, moving honourably among his +fellow men, seeing human faces, hearing the music of human voices, an +accepted lover, and a happy man. + +That was long ago, a dream, a vision which was fading away. It seemed +years since he had heard any voice but that of the pink, hairless man +who fed him and whose slave he had become. + +Once more the prisoned thing that had been Gerald Rathbone gazed round +the cell, striving with terrible intensity of thought to understand it +and penetrate its mysteries. Here he had been put and here he had +remained ever since that sickening moment when he had been talking to +Sir William Gouldesbrough. He had been standing in front of the baronet, +when his arms had been gripped from behind and unseen fingers held a +damp cloth, with a faint sickly and aromatic smell, over his face. A +noise like the rushing of great waters sounded in his ears, there was a +sense of falling into a gulf of enveloping blackness. + +He had awakened in the place which he was now surveying again, with +frightful and fascinated curiosity. + +In the brilliant light of the electric bulbs every object in the cell +was clearly seen. The place was not small. It was oblong in shape, some +sixteen feet by twelve. The walls were built of heavy slabs of Portland +stone cemented together with extreme nicety and care. The door of the +cell was obviously new. It was a heavy steel door with a complicated +system of locks--very much like the door of a safe. The whole place, +indeed, suggested that it had been used as a strong-room at some time or +other. There was no window of any kind in the cell. In the centre of the +arched roof there was a barred ventilator, and close by an electric fan +whirled and whispered unceasingly. The sound made by the purring thing +as it revolved two thousand times a minute was almost the only sound +Gerald Rathbone heard now. + +The floor of the cell was covered with cork carpet of an ordinary +pattern. The victim cast his glance on all this without interest. Then, +as if he did so unwillingly, but by the force of an attraction he could +not resist, he stared, with lively doubt and horror rippling over his +face, at something which stood against the opposite wall. He saw a long +narrow couch of some black wood, slanting upwards towards the head. The +couch stood upon four thick pedestals of red rubber, which in their turn +rested upon four squares of thick porcelain. The whole thing had the +appearance of a shallow box upon trestles, and at the head was a curious +pillow of india-rubber. At the side of this thick pad was a +collar-shaped circlet of vulcanite clamped between two arms of +aluminium, which moved in any direction upon ball-pivots. + +He stared at this mysterious couch, trying to understand it, to realize +it. + +He rose from the narrow bed on which he sat, and advanced to the centre +of the cell--to the centre, but no further than that. + +Around his waist a circlet of light steel was welded, and from it thin +steel chains ran through light handcuffs upon his wrists, and were +joined to steel bands which were locked upon his ankles. And all these +chains, hardly thicker than stout watch-chains, but terribly strong, +were caught up to a pulley that hung far above his head and, in its +turn, gave its central chain to another pulley and swivel fixed in the +roof. + +In the half of his cell where his little bed was fixed, the prisoner had +fair liberty of movement, despite his shackles. He could sit or lie, +use his hands with some freedom. But whenever he attempted to cross the +invisible line which divided one part of the cell from the other, the +chains tightened and forbade him. + +He stood now, straining to the limit of his bonds, gazing at the long +couch of black wood, with its rubber feet, its clamps and collar at the +head. + +Above the mysterious couch, upon a triangular shelf by the door, was +something that gleamed and shone brightly. It was a cap of metal, shaped +like a huge acorn cup, or a bishop's mitre. From an ivory stud in the +centre of the peak, coils of silk-covered wire ran to a china plug in +the wall. + +Rathbone stood upright for several minutes gazing at these things. Then +with a long, hopeless sigh, to the accompanying jingle of his fetters, +he turned and sat down once more upon his bed. + +As prisoners do, he had contracted the habit of talking aloud to +himself. It was a poor comfort--this mournful echo of one's own +voice!--but it seemed to make the profound solitude more bearable for a +moment. He began a miserable monologue now. + +"I _must_ understand it!" he said. "That is the first step of all, if I +am to keep my brain, if there is ever to be the slightest chance of +escape, I must understand this terrible and secret business. + +"What are these fiends doing to me? + +"Let me go through the whole thing slowly and in order." + +He began to reconstruct the scenes of his frequent torture, with the +logic and precision with which he would have worked out a proposition of +Euclid. It was the only way in which he could keep a grip upon a failing +mind; a logical process of thought alone could solve this horrid +mystery. + +What happened every day, sometimes two or three times a day? Just this. +He would be lying on his bed, reading, perhaps, if the electric lights +were turned on. There would be a sudden creak and rattle of the big +pulleys high up in the roof, a rattle which came without any warning +whatever. + +Then the central chain, to which all the other thinner chains were +fastened, would begin to tighten and move. Slowly, inch by inch, as if +some one were turning a winch-handle outside the cell, the chain wound +up into the roof. As it did so, the smaller chains, which were fixed to +the steel bands upon his limbs, tightened also. + +Struggle as he might, the arrangements and balance of the weights were +so perfect that in less than a minute he would be swinging clear of the +bed, as helpless as a bale of goods at the end of a crane. + +Then the upward movement of the chain would stop, the door open with a +clicking of its massive wards, and Guest would come in. + +In a moment more Gerald always found himself swung on to the long black +couch. His neck was encircled by the collar of thick vulcanite, his head +was bent upwards by means of an india-rubber pillow beneath it, his +hands and feet were strapped to the framework of the couch. + +And finally Guest would take the metal cap and fix it firmly upon his +head, pressed down to the very eyes so that he could in no way shake it +off. The man would leave the cell, sometimes with a chuckle or a +malicious sentence that seemed full of hidden meaning, sometimes in +silence. + +And then the electric light invariably went out. + +Rathbone never knew how long he was forced to remain thus in the dark, +the subject of some horrible experiment, at the nature of which he could +only guess. The period seemed to vary, but there was no possible test of +time. Long ago time had ceased to exist for him. + +Release would come at last, release, food and light--and so the dreadful +silent days went on. + +"What are these devils doing to me?" + +The hollow voice of reverie and self-communing cut into the silence like +a knife. + +"It must be that I am being made the victim of an awful revenge and +hatred. Charliewood was the decoy and tool of Gouldesbrough; it was all +planned from the first. Marjorie was never really relinquished by +Gouldesbrough. He meant all along to get me out of the way, to get +Marjorie back if he could. All this is clear enough. I thought I was +dealing with an honourable gentleman, and a great man, too great to +stoop even to anything petty or mean. I have been dealing with desperate +and secret criminals, people who live hideous double lives, who walk the +world and sit in high places and do unnameable evil in the dark. Yes! +That is clear enough. Even now, perhaps, my darling is once more in the +power of this monster Gouldesbrough!" + +The thin voice failed and died away into a tortured whimper. The tall +form shook with agony and the rattle of the steel chains mingled with +the "purr," "purr" of the electric fan in the roof. + +By a tremendous effort of will Rathbone clutched at his thoughts again. +He wrenched his mind back from the memory of his dreadful plight to the +solving of the mystery. + +Till he had some glimmering of the _meaning_ of what was being done to +him, he was entirely hopeless and helpless. + +He began to murmur to himself again. + +"In the first place Gouldesbrough has got me out of the way +successfully. I have disappeared from the world of men, the field is +clear for him. But he has not killed me. For some reason or other, +dangerous though it must be for him, he is keeping me alive. It surely +would have been safer for him to have murdered me in this secret place, +and buried me beneath the stone flags here? I am forced to conclude that +he is keeping me for an even worse revenge than that of immediate +extinction. It is torture enough to imprison me like this, of course. +But, if the man is what I feel he is--not man, but devil--would he not +have tortured me in another way before now? There are dreadful pains +that fiends can make the body suffer. One has read of unbearable agonies +in old books, in the classics. Yet nothing of the sort has been done to +me yet, and I have been long in this prison. My food has been plentiful +and of good quality, even definitely stimulating I have thought at +times. + +"It is obvious then that I am not to be subjected to any of the horrors +one has read of. What _is_ being done to me? when, each day, I am fixed +rigidly upon that couch, and the brass helmet is put upon my head, what +is going on? I cannot feel any sensation out of the ordinary when I am +tied down there. I am no weaker in body, my faculties are just as +unimpaired when I am released as they were before. At least it seems so +to me. I can discover no change in me either, mental or physical. + +"Something is being done by means of electricity. The coils of wire that +lead from the helmet to the plug in the wall show that. The way in which +the couch is insulated, the vulcanite collar, the rubber pillow, all +lead to the same conclusion. At first I thought that a torturing current +of electricity was to be directed into the brain. That my faculties, my +very soul itself, were to be dissolved and destroyed by some subtle +means. But it is not so. There is no current coming to me through the +wire. Nowhere does my head touch metal, the cap is lined throughout with +rubber. But yesterday, as my gaoler held up the helmet to examine it +before putting it on my head, I had an opportunity of seeing the whole +interior for the first time. + +"There was very little to see! At the top was a circular orifice which +seemed to be closed by a thin disc of some shining material. That was +all. It looked just like the part of a telephone into which one speaks. +My brain, my body, are not being acted upon. Nothing is being slowly +instilled into my being. _Can it be that anything is being taken away?_" + +He bent his head upon his hands and groaned in agony. All was dark and +impenetrable, there was no solution, no help. He was in the grip of +merciless men, in the clutch of the unknown. + +The electric light in the cell went out suddenly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +LORD MALVIN + + +If Sir William Gouldesbrough represented all that was most brilliant, +modern, and daring in the scientific world of Europe, Lord Malvin stood +as its official figure-head. He was the "grand old man" of science, and +was regarded by every one as a final court of appeal in all such +matters. + +He was of a great age, almost eighty, in fact, yet his health was +perfect, his intellect unimpaired, and his interest in human events as +keen and vigorous as that of a man but half his age and in the full +prime and meridian of life. + +In science, he represented what the President of the Royal Academy +represents in art, or the Lord Chief Justice in the law, and although he +had almost ceased independent investigations, he was always appealed to +and consulted when anything new and revolutionary in science was +discovered or promulgated by any of the younger men. + +The younger men themselves, while allowing their chief's vast knowledge +and experience, his real and undeniable eminence, were apt to call him +conservative, and to hint that he was of an alien generation. They would +say that his judgment was sometimes obscured by his veneration and love +for the past, and because he found himself unable to leap so rapidly to +conclusions as they did, they put him down as an old fogey who had done +valuable and remarkable work in his time, but who ought to be content +with his peerage and immense fortune and retire to the planting of +cabbages or the growing of roses in the country. + +In the public eye, nevertheless, Lord Malvin remained as familiar and +necessary a part of the English landscape as St. Paul's; and, whenever a +great man died and the newspapers enumerated the few remaining veterans +of the Commonwealth, Lord Malvin was usually the first to be mentioned. + +For many years there had been an antagonism between Lord Malvin and Sir +William Gouldesbrough. It was not personal so much as scientific, an +abstract and intellectual antagonism. When Sir William's star first +began to rise above the horizon--he was only Mr. Gouldesbrough +then--Lord Malvin had recognized his talent as an inventor, but +deprecated many of his theories. These ideas, these possibilities for +the future which Gouldesbrough was fond of giving to the world in +lectures and reviews, seemed horribly dangerous, subversive, and +fantastic to the older man. + +He said so in no uncertain voice, and for some years, though he was +always kind and civil to Gouldesbrough, he certainly did much to +discount the rising star's power of illumination. + +But as time went on, each daring theory put forth by Gouldesbrough +passed into the realm of actual fact. Lord Malvin saw that Sir William +had been almost invariably right. He saw that the new man not only told +the world that some day this or that marvel would come to pass, but +immediately afterwards set to work and himself made it come to pass! + +Lord Malvin was a noble man as well as a nobleman--sometimes a rare +combination to-day--and he confessed himself in the wrong. Directly he +saw that he had been mistaken, and that Sir William was no charlatan, +but one of the most daring and brilliant scientists the world had ever +known, the peer gave the newer man all the weight of his support. +Nevertheless, while forced by circumstance and Gouldesbrough's +justification of his own ideas into a scientific brotherhood, Lord +Malvin, who constantly met the other, found a new problem confronting +him. + +While he had not believed in Gouldesbrough's theories, Lord Malvin had +rather liked him personally. + +Now that he was compelled to believe in Gouldesbrough's theories, Lord +Malvin found that he experienced a growing dislike for the man himself. +And as he was a fair and honourable man, Lord Malvin did everything he +possibly could to rid himself of this prejudice, with the result that +while his efforts to do so were quite unavailing, he redoubled his +kindness and attentions to the man he disliked. + +All the scientific world knew that Sir William was perfecting some +marvellous discovery. In Berlin, Paris, Petersburg, Vienna, and Buda +Pesth, learned savants were writing to their _confrères_ in London to +know what this might be. The excitement was intense, the rumours were +endless, and it is not too much to say that the whole scientific +intellect of the globe was roused and waiting. + +Now when a number of leading brains are agitated upon one subject, +something of that agitation begins to stir and move in the outside +world. + +Already some hints had got about, and the press of Europe and America +was scenting some extraordinary news. + +The whole business had at length culminated in the giving of a great +reception by Lord Malvin. + +Everybody who mattered was asked, not only in the scientific but also in +the general world. + +And everybody knew, that not only was the reception given in Sir William +Gouldesbrough's honour, but that he would say something more or less +definite about what he had in hand. + +In short, a pronouncement was to be made, and the ears of every one were +tingling to hear it. + +Among the idle and frivolous section of society the promised revelation +had become the topic of the hour. Everything else was quite forgotten. +Gerald Rathbone's disappearance was already a thing of the past. Eustace +Charliewood's suicide had not lasted for the proverbial nine days as a +subject of talk. But here was something _quite_ new! Something all the +more attractive because of its mystery. + +Some people said that Sir William had invented a way in which any one +might become invisible for a few pence. + +This suggested delightful possibilities to every one, save only the +newly rich, whose whole endeavour was to be seen. + +On the other hand there was a considerable section of people who +asserted that Sir William had succeeded in supplying the lesion in the +brain of the ape, and that now that intelligent animal would be able to +talk, own property, and become recognized as a British citizen. Every +one began to read the _Jungle Book_ again, and a serious proposal was +made in an Imperialistic Journal that England might thus colonize and +secure the unexplored forests of Central Africa, by means of drilling +and civilizing the monkeys of the interior. + +A Gorilla-General was to be appointed, who should know the English +language, but no other, and it was thought that by this means the +British dominions and population would be enormously increased. The +"Smart Set" especially welcomed this recruitment of their numbers. + +In city circles both these conjectures were scouted. + +The well-informed insisted that Sir William had discovered a method of +solidifying alcohol, so that in future one would buy one's whiskey in +chunks, and one's champagne in sticks like barley sugar. + +Lord Malvin lived in Portland Place, in one of those great stone houses +which, however sombre without, are generally most pleasant and +attractive within. He was unmarried, and his niece Dorothea Backhouse +acted as hostess and generally controlled his domestic affairs. + +The stately rooms were crowded with well-known people of all sorts and +conditions. Yet this assembly differed from others in a marked manner. +All the society people who lived solely for amusement had been invited, +and were there. But mingled with the butterflies, one saw the ants and +bees. By the carefully groomed, and not ill-looking face of a young and +fashionable man about town, could be seen the domed forehead, and the +face gashed and scored with thought, of some great savant or deep +thinker. + +It was indeed an unusual assemblage that passed through the large and +brilliant rooms, laughing and talking. In the blue drawing-room, Kubelik +had just arrived and was beginning to play. Every one crushed in to hear +the young maestro. Melba was to sing a song, perhaps two, later on in +the evening, and the ball-room was filled with supper-tables. + +In so much Lord Malvin's party did not differ in any way from that of +any other famous and wealthy London host. There was the same light and +sparkle of jewels. The warm air was laden with perfume, the same +beautiful and tired faces moved gracefully among all this luxury. But +the men and women who worked and thought for the world were in this +Portland Place palace also. They talked together in eager and animated +groups, they paid little or no attention to this or that delight which +had been provided for them. All these things were phantoms and unreal to +these people. The real things were taking place within the brain as they +conversed together. The army of intellect was massing within the citadel +of thought, to wrest new territory from the old queen nature, mistress +of the kingdom of the unknown. + +Lord Malvin and his niece had received their guests at the head of the +grand staircase. Now, when almost every one had arrived, the great +scientist had withdrawn to an inner room at the end of a long series of +apartments, and stood there talking with a small knot of friends. + +This inner drawing-room was the culminating part of the suite, the +throne room as it were; and the people standing there could look down a +long and crowded vista of light and movement, while the yearning and +sobbing of Kubelik's violin came to their ears in gusts and throbs of +delicious sound. + +Lord Malvin, a tall, upright old man with a long white beard, a high +white brow beneath his velvet skull-cap, and wearing a row of orders, +was talking to Sir Harold Oliver. Sir Harold was the principal of a +great Northern University, a slim, hard-faced man of middle age, and the +pioneer in the movement which was allowing a place to both philosophy +and psychology in modern science. + +A third person stood there also, a youngish man of middle height, Mr. +Donald Megbie, the well-known journalist and writer on social and +religious matters. Donald Megbie held rather a curious position in the +literary world. He was the friend of many great people, and more often +than not his pen was the vehicle chosen by them to first introduce +their ideas and discoveries to the general public. When it was time to +let the man in the street know of some stupendous discovery, Megbie was +called in, and his articles, always brilliant and interesting, explained +the matter in popular terms for the non-technical mind. + +"So Gouldesbrough has not yet come?" Sir Harold Oliver said. + +"Not yet," Lord Malvin answered. "I have had a telegram from him, +however, to say that he is compelled to be rather later than he had +expected. I have told the butler to wait in the hall for him, and to +bring him straight through here directly he arrives." + +"A remarkable man," said Mr. Megbie, in that low and pleasant voice +which had become so familiar in high places--even in the private rooms +of cabinet ministers it was said--during the last few years. + +"A man none of us can afford to ignore," Sir Harold answered with a +slight sigh of impatience. + +Megbie smiled. + +"My dear Donald," Sir Harold went on, "please don't smile in that +superior sort of manner. I know what you are thinking. You're thinking +'how these scientists love one another.' You are accusing me of envy, +jealousy and uncharitableness. I'm not jealous of Gouldesbrough, great +as his attainments are, and I'm sure I don't envy him." + +"Any one might be forgiven a little envy on such an occasion as this," +Megbie answered. "I confess that if I thought every one of importance in +London were met together in Lord Malvin's house to welcome _me_, to hear +what _I_ was going to do next, I should be rather more than pleased." + +Lord Malvin smiled kindly, but the noble old face grew sad for a moment. + +"Ah!" he said, "you are young, Mr. Megbie. I thought as you think when I +was your age. But one finds out the utter worthlessness of fame and +applause and so on, as one grows older. The work itself is the thing! +Yes! There, and therein only, lies the reward. All else is vain and +hollow. I am a very old man, and I am near my end. I suppose I may say +that such honours as can be given have fallen to my share. Yet I can +honestly say that I would give them all up, I would efface myself +utterly if I thought that I was on the brink of the discovery which I +believe William Gouldesbrough has made and will tell us something of +to-night!" + +The other two started. A deep note of seriousness had come into the +voice of the venerable old man. It portended something, something vast +and far-reaching, and they all stood silent for a moment occupied with +their own thoughts. + +The distant music of piano and violin rose higher and higher in keen +vibrating melody. There was a note of triumph in it which seemed to +accentuate the gravity and importance of Lord Malvin's words. The +triumphant notes of the man who was coming were singing and ringing +through the halls and chambers of this great house! + +The music ceased suddenly, and there was a great clapping of hands. + +At that moment the three men waiting in the inner room saw a tall, black +figure moving towards them, the figure of a man on whom people were +beginning to press and converge, a figure that smiled, bowed, stopped +continually to shake hands and receive greetings, and made a slow +progress towards them. + +Sir William Gouldesbrough, the man of the future, radiant, honoured and +successful, was arriving to greet Lord Malvin, the man of the past. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +DONALD MEGBIE SEES POSSIBILITIES + + +So Sir William Gouldesbrough passed through the crowds of friends and +acquaintances who crowded round him in a welter of curiosity and +congratulation, and came into the inner room, where Lord Malvin, Sir +Harold Oliver and Mr. Donald Megbie were waiting to receive him. + +Tall, suave, and self-contained, he bowed and shook hands. Then there +was a moment's pause--they were waiting for him to speak, expectant of +what he should say. + +"I am sorry, Lord Malvin," he began, "that I have arrived so late at +your party. But I was conducting an experiment, and when I was half-way +through I found that it was going to lead me much further than I +thought. You know how that happens sometimes?" + +"Perfectly, Sir William, and the fact is a scientist's greatest pleasure +very often. Now, may I ask you--you will excuse an old man's +impatience--may I ask you if you have finally succeeded? When I last +saw you the composition of the spectrum presented a difficulty." + +"That I have now completely overcome, Lord Malvin." + +Lord Malvin trembled, actually trembled with excitement. "Then the +series of experiments is complete?" + +"Quite. And more than that, I have done, not once or twice but many +times, exactly what I told you I hoped to do. The thing, my lord, is an +accomplished fact, indisputable--_certain_!" + +Lord Malvin turned to Sir Harold Oliver and Megbie. + +"Gentlemen," he said in a clear voice but full of a profound emotion. +"The history of life is changed. We all must stand in a new relation to +each other, to society and to the world." + +Donald Megbie knew that here was a chance of his literary lifetime. Lord +Malvin would never have spoken in this way without due consideration and +absolute conviction. Something very big indeed was in the air. But what +was it? The journalist had not an idea as yet. + +He looked eagerly at the aquiline, ascetic face of the inventor, marked +the slight smile of triumph that lingered round the lips, and noted how +the eyes shone, brilliantly, steadily, as if they were lighted up from +behind. Megbie had seen many men in many countries. + +And as he looked keenly at Sir William Gouldesbrough two thoughts came +into his mind. One was something like this--"You are certainly one of +the most intellectual and remarkable men now living. You are unique, and +you stand upon a pedestal of fame that only one man in several +generations ever reaches. All the same, I shouldn't like to be in your +power or to stand in your way!" And moreover the question came to the +quick analytic brain of the writer whether the brilliance of those +lamp-like eyes was wholly natural, was wholly sane. + +These twin thoughts were born and over in a flash, and even as he +thought of them Megbie began to speak. + +"Now that Lord Malvin has told us so much, Sir William," he said, "won't +you tell us some more? I suppose you know that all the world is waiting +for a pronouncement?" + +"The world will know very soon, Mr. Megbie," Gouldesbrough answered +pleasantly. "In about a fortnight's time I am sending out some +invitations to some of our leading people to witness the result of my +experiments in my laboratories. I hope I may have the pleasure of seeing +you there also. But if you wish it, I will certainly give you a slight +idea of the work. Since the public seem interested in what I am doing, +and something seems to have leaked out, I am quite willing that they +should know more. And of course there is no one to whom I would rather +say anything than yourself." + +Megbie bowed. He was tremendously excited. Brother writers who did not +make a tenth of his income and had not a quarter of his eminence were +wont to say that his ears twitched when in the presence of a great +celebrity. This no doubt was calumny, but the journalist stood in an +attitude of strained attention--as well a man might stand when the +secret of the hour was about to be revealed to him in preference to all +other men. + +Gouldesbrough bowed to Lord Malvin. + +"I'm going to have half-an-hour's conversation with Mr. Megbie," he +said. "Meanwhile, my lord, I wonder if you would give Sir Harold Oliver +a slight technical outline of my processes? And of course, as I +understand this is to be in some sense a night on which your friends are +to be given some general information, I shall place myself entirely in +your hands as to any revelations you may think proper to make." + +He moved off with the journalist, leaving the two other men already +fallen into deep talk. + +"Where shall we go, Mr. Megbie?" he said, as they came out into a large +room hung with old Flemish tapestry and full of people. + +"There is a little conservatory down a corridor here," Megbie +answered. "I expect we should be quite undisturbed there. Moreover, +we could smoke, and I know that you are like me, Sir William, a +cigarette-smoker." + +"That will do very well, then," Gouldesbrough answered, and they walked +away together. Every one saw them go. Ladies nodded and whispered, +gentlemen whispered and nodded to each other. The occasion was perfectly +well understood. Sir William was telling Donald Megbie! By supper time +it would be all over the rooms and the _Eastminster Gazette_ to-morrow +afternoon would have all the details. + +"Megbie is always chosen in affairs of this sort." "That's Megbie, the +writing Johnny, who sort of stage-manages all these things." "The +ubiquitous Donald has got him in his grip, and we shall soon know all +the details"--these were the remarks made upon every side as the two men +strolled through the rooms. + +Then an incident that was much commented on next day in society, +occurred quite suddenly. It created quite a little sensation and gave +rise to a great deal of gossip. + +Sir William and Mr. Megbie came to a part of the room where Lady Poole +and her daughter Marjorie were standing talking to General Mayne of the +War Office. + +Lady Poole saw the scientist. + +"Ah, William!" she said, somewhat loudly, and quite in her old manner of +the days when Sir William and Marjorie were engaged. "So here you are, +blazing with triumph. Every one's talking of you, and every one has been +asking Marjorie if she knows what it is you've invented this time!" + +Megbie, who knew both Lady Poole and her daughter, but did not wish to +enter into a conversation just at this important moment, bowed, smiled +at the old lady and the girl, and stood a little aside. + +Gouldesbrough took Lady Poole by the hand and bent over it, saying +something in a low voice to her. And once more society nodded and +whispered as it saw the flush of pleasure in the lady's face and her +gratified smile. Again society whispered and nodded as it saw Marjorie +Poole shake hands with her _ex-fiancé_, and marked the brightness of her +beautiful eyes and saw the proud lips moving in words of friendship and +congratulation. + +What Gouldesbrough said in answer to Marjorie was this-- + +"It is so kind and good of you to be pleased, Marjorie. Nothing is more +valuable to me than that. I am going to have half-an-hour with Donald +Megbie now. I find that it's usual to tell the general public something +at this stage. So I'm doing it through Megbie. He's safe, you know, and +he understands one. But after that, will you let me take you in to have +some supper? Do please let me! It would just make everything splendid, +be the final joy, you know!" + +"I should be very churlish to refuse you anything to-night, William," +she answered sadly, but with great pride for him in her voice. "Haven't +you done almost everything for me? You've done what no other living man +would have done. I shall be very glad and feel very proud if you will +come back here for me after you have talked to Donald Megbie." + +Gouldesbrough went away with the journalist. In five minutes every one +in Lord Malvin's house was saying that Marjorie Poole was engaged to Sir +William Gouldesbrough once more. + +Marjorie watched the two men go away. Her heart was full of pride and +pain. She rejoiced that all this had come to the chivalrous gentleman +who had been her lover and plighted husband. She felt each incident of +his growing triumph with intense sympathy and pleasure. He had been so +good to her! From the very first he had been splendid. If only she could +have loved him, how happy would her lot have been as mate and companion +to such a man as this! She was not worldly, but she was of the world +and knew it well. She realized most completely all the advantages, the +subtle pleasures that would belong to the wife of this great man. The +love of power and dominion, the sense of a high intellectual +correspondence with the finest brain of the day, the incense of a lofty +and chivalrous devotion--all these, yes, all these, would be for the +girl Sir William loved and wedded. + +She half-wondered if such devotion as his had proved to be ought to go +unrewarded. + +Was it _right_? Had any girl a real excuse for making a man like William +Gouldesbrough unhappy? Guy Rathbone had faded utterly out of life. The +greatest skill, the most active and prolonged inquiry had failed to +throw the slightest light upon his disappearance. + +As a person, Guy had ceased to exist. He lived only as a memory in her +heart. A dear memory, bitter-sweet--ah, sweet and bitter!--but no more a +thing of flesh and blood. A phantom, a shadow now and for evermore! + + * * * * * + +Sir William and Donald Megbie sat in a small palm house talking +earnestly together. A tiny fountain sent up its glittering whip of water +from a marble pool on which water-lilies were floating, while tiny +iridescent fish swum slowly round their roots. There was a silence and +fragrance in the pleasant remote place, the perfume of exotic flowers, +the grateful green of giant cacti which rested the eye. + +Concealed electric lights shed their radiance upon fern, flower, and +sparkling water, and both men felt that here was a place for confidences +and a fit spot in which matters of import might be unfolded. + +Both men were smoking, and in the still warm air, the delicate grey +spirals from the thick Turkish cigarettes rose with a fantastic grace of +curve that only the pencil of a Flaxman could have given its true value. + +"I am all attention, Sir William," Megbie said. + +"Well, then, I will put the thing to you in a nutshell, and as simply as +possible. When you come to the demonstration at my house in a few days' +time, you will be able to gather all the details and have them explained +to you. I am going to give you a simple broad statement here and now. +For years I have been investigating the nature of thought. I have been +seeking to discover what thought really is, how it takes place, what is +its _mechanical_ as well as its psychical value. Now, I claim that I +have discovered the active principle of thought. I have discovered how +to measure it, how to harness it, so to speak; how to use it, in fact, +just as other investigators in the past have harnessed and utilized +electricity!" + +Megbie started. "I think I see," he said hurriedly. "I think I see +something--but go on, Sir William, go on!" + +Gouldesbrough smiled, pleased with the agitation the man who sat by him +showed so plainly. + +He went on--"Hitherto that which observes--I mean the power of thought, +has never been able, strictly speaking, to observe itself. It can never +look on at itself from the outside, or view itself as one of the +multitude of things that come under its review. It is itself the origin +of vision, and the eye cannot see its own power of seeing. I have +altered all this. Thought is a fluid just as electricity is, or one may +say that it is a peculiar form of motion just as light is. The brain is +the machine that creates the motion. I have discovered that the brain +gives off definite rays or vibrations which rise from it as steam rises +from a boiling pot. That is the reason why one brain can act upon +another, can influence another. It explains personal magnetism, +hypnotism and so on. What I have done is this: I have perfected a means +by which these rays can be collected and controlled. I can place an +apparatus upon your head which will collect the thought vibrations as +you think and produce them." + +"And then, Sir William?" + +"Then I can conduct those rays along a wire for any distance in the form +of an electric current. Finally, by means of a series of sensitive +instruments which I will show you at the forthcoming demonstration, I +can transmute these vibrations into actual pictures or words, and throw +them upon a screen for all the world to see. That is to say, in actual +words, whatever any one is thinking is reproduced exactly as he thinks +it, without his having any power to prevent it. Thought, which had +hitherto been locked up in the brain of the thinker and only reaches us +through his words with whatever modification he likes to make, will now +be absolutely naked and bare." + +There was a silence of a minute or two as Sir William stopped speaking. + +The journalist was thinking deeply, his head bowed upon his hands. + +He looked up at last and his face was very pale. Little beads of +perspiration stood out upon his forehead. His eyes were luminous. + +"It is too big to take in all at once," he said. "But I see some things. +In the first instance, your discovery means the triumph of _TRUTH_! +Think of it! the saying that 'truth shall prevail' will be justified at +last!" + +Gouldesbrough nodded, and the writer went on, his voice warming into +enthusiasm as he continued, his words pouring out in a flood. "No one +will lie any more because every one will realize that lying will be +useless, when your machine can search out their inmost secrets! In two +generations deceit will have vanished from the world. We shall invest in +no company unless the directors submit themselves to the scrutiny of +your invention. We shall be able to test the genuineness of every +enterprise before embarking upon it! Again, your invention means the +triumph of _JUSTICE_! There will be no more cases of wrongful +imprisonment. No man will suffer for a crime he did not commit! Oh, it's +wonderful, beyond thinking! The cumbrous machinery of the law-courts +will be instantly swept away. The criminal will try himself in spite of +himself, he will give the secret of his actions to the world! The whole +of life will be changed and made bright! We shall witness the final +triumph of all--_THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE_! Man or maid will be each able to +test the reality and depth of each other's affection! There will be no +more mercenary marriages, no betrayals of trusting women. And from these +unions of love, pure and undefiled by worldly considerations, a new and +finer race will spring up, noble, free and wise! And you, you the man +sitting here by my side, have done all this!" + +His voice failed him for a moment, and the burning torrent of his words +was still. In the rush and clamour of the new ideas, in the immeasurable +vastness of the conception, speech would not go on. Then he started, and +his face grew paler than before. "Forgive me," he said, "forgive me if I +seem to doubt. It is all so incredibly wonderful. But you have really +_done_ this, Sir William? You are not merely hoping to do it some day? +You are not merely advancing along the road which may some day lead to +it?" + +"I have actually done it, Mr. Megbie, completely, utterly, certainly. +And in a few days you shall judge for yourself. But it is certain." + +"But it is infinite in its possibilities!" the journalist went on. +"Another thing that I see quite clearly will result is this. The right +man in the right place will be an accomplished fact in the future. We +shall find out early in the life of a child exactly in what direction +its true power lies. To-day we find that circumstance and the mistakes +of parents and guardians are constantly putting children into walks of +life for which they are not in the least fitted. The result is a +dreadful waste of power. We see on every side clergymen who ought to be +business men, business men who ought to be painters or musicians, clerks +who are bad clerks, but who would make excellent soldiers. Your +marvellous discovery will change all this for ever. Every day the +growing brain of the child will be tested. We shall find out exactly +what its true thoughts are; children will cease to be inarticulate and +unable to give us a true idea of themselves as they so often are at +present. Teaching will become an exact science, because every +schoolmaster will be able to find out how much his teaching is +appreciated and understood, and how little, as the case may be. And we +shall discover other and even more portentous secrets! We shall know +what is passing in the minds of the dying who cannot speak to us! We +shall know the truth about a future state, inasmuch as we shall be able +to find out whether the mind does indeed receive warnings and hintings +of the other world at the moment of passing! Then, also, I suppose that +we shall be able to penetrate into a world that has been closed to us +since the human species began! We shall know at last in what strange way +animals think! The pictures that pass into the brain of the dog, the +horse, the tiger, through the physical eyes, will be made clear for us +to see! We shall wrest his secret from the eagle and see the memories of +the primeval forest which linger in the minds of the jaguar and ape!" + +The little fountain in the centre of the conservatory tinkled merrily. +The electric bulbs in the glass roof shed a soft light upon the broad +green leaves of the tropical plants, which seemed as if they had been +cunningly japanned. Two men in modern evening dress sat talking +together, while distant sounds of talk and laughter floated in to them +from the great and fashionable drawing-rooms beyond. It was an ordinary +picture enough, and to the superficial eye one without special +significance or meaning. + +Yet, at that moment and in that place, a stupendous revelation was being +made. A tale which the wildest imagination would have hesitated to give +a place in the mind was being poured into the ears of one who was the +mouthpiece of the public. To-morrow all the world would be thinking the +thoughts, experiencing the same mental disturbance, that Donald Megbie +was experiencing now. The cables would be flashing the news through vast +cities and over the beds of mighty oceans to the furthest corner of the +habitable globe. + +Megbie realized something of this. "I feel my responsibility very +acutely," he said. "You have put into my hands one of the greatest +chances that any writer for the public press has ever had. Before I +begin to write anything, I must be alone to think things over. You may +well imagine how all this has startled me. For the thinking man it +almost has an element of terror. One feels an awe that may in any moment +change to fear! When I first saw Mount Blanc I felt as I do now." + +Sir William gazed keenly at his companion. Megbie was obviously +unstrung. It was curious to see how this revelation had gripped and +influenced the keen, cool-headed man of the world, curious and full of a +thrill, exquisite in its sense of power and dominion. The tall figure of +the scientist towered over that of the other man. Gouldesbrough had +risen, the usual reserve of his manner had dropped away from him, and +great tides of exultation seemed to carry him swiftly and irresistibly +to the very heart of human things. During the long years of experiment +and toil, Gouldesbrough had occasionally known these moments of savage +ecstasy. But never had he known a moment so poignant, so supreme as +this. As he stood there the thought came to him that he alone stood +apart from all created men in the supremacy of intellect, in the majesty +of an utter sovereignty over the minds of mankind. + +The rush of furious emotion mastered him for a moment, so terrible was +it in its intensity and strength. + +"Yes," he cried, with a wild gesture of his arm and in a high vibrating +voice. "Yes! You are right! You have said what all the world is about +to say. I have stormed the heights of the unknown! The secrets of all +men's hearts are mine, and I claim an absolute knowledge of the soul, +even as God claims it!" + +Megbie started from his reverie. He stared at the tall, swaying figure +with fascinated eyes as he heard the bold and terrible words. Was it not +thus that Lucifer himself had spoken in Milton's mighty poem? + +And how had the star of the morning fallen? + +Once more the thought flashed into his mind that there was something of +madness in those blazing eyes. However great things this man had done, +were not these words of tremendous arrogance the symptom of a brain +destined to blaze up for a moment in mighty triumph and then to pass +into the dark? + +Who could say? Who could tell? + +Suddenly Megbie realized that Sir William was speaking in an ordinary +voice. + +"Forgive me," he was saying quietly, and with a half laugh. "I'm afraid +I let myself go for a moment. It's not a thing I often do, you know; but +you were so appreciative. Now you will please let me run away. I am +afraid I have already been here too long. I have promised to take Miss +Poole in to supper." + +He shook hands and walked hurriedly away. + +Megbie sat where he was for a few moments longer. He intended to leave +the house quietly and go home to his chambers in the Temple, perhaps +looking in at one of his clubs on the way. He did not want the +innumerable questions, the pressure of the curious, which he knew would +be his lot if he remained any longer in Portland Place. His mind was in +a whirl, entire solitude would alone enable him to collect his thoughts. + +He rose to leave the conservatory, when he saw something bright upon the +chair on which Sir William Gouldesbrough had been sitting. It was a +cigarette-case. + +Megbie realized that Gouldesbrough had forgotten it. Being unwilling to +seek out the scientist, Megbie put the case into his pocket, meaning to +send it round to Sir William's house in the morning. Then he went +swiftly into the hall, and managed to get away out of the house without +being questioned or stopped. + +It was a clear, bright night. There was less smoke about in the sky than +usual, and the swift motion of the hansom cab was exhilarating. How +fortunate Sir William was! so the journalist thought, as he was driven +through the lighted streets. He stood upon a supreme pinnacle of fame, +and beautiful Marjorie Poole--a girl to make any man happy--was being +kind to him again. The romantic and mysterious Rathbone incident was +over and done with. Miss Poole's fancy for the young barrister must have +only been a passing one. But what a dark and mysterious business it had +all been! + +Megbie had known Guy Rathbone a little. He had often met him in the +Temple, and he had liked the bright and capable young fellow. + +For a moment the writer contrasted the lot of two men--the one he had +just left, great, brilliant, and happy; the other, whom he had known in +the past, now faded utterly away into impenetrable dark. + +He sighed. Then he thought that a cigarette would be refreshing. He +found he had no cigarettes of his own, but his fingers touched the case +Sir William had left behind him in the conservatory. + +Good! there would be sure to be cigarettes in the case. + +He drew it out and opened it. There were two cigarettes in one of the +compartments. + +But it was not the sight of the two little tubes of paper that made the +writer's eyes dilate and turned his face grey with sudden fear. Cut +deeply into the silver he saw this-- + + GUY RATHBONE, + INNER TEMPLE, + LONDON, E.C. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HAIL TO THE LOVERS! + + +When he had left Donald Megbie, Sir William Gouldesbrough went back to +the room in which he had last seen Marjorie Poole. + +He found her the centre of a circle of friends and acquaintances. Lady +Poole was sitting by her daughter's side, and was in a high good humour. + +Gouldesbrough saw at once that while he had been talking with Donald +Megbie in the conservatory, Lord Malvin had done as Gouldesbrough had +asked him. Every one knew, with more or less accuracy, of what the new +invention consisted. + +If the excitement and stir of expectation had been noticeable at the +beginning of the evening, it was now doubly apparent. The rooms hummed +like a hive with excited talk, and it was obvious that society +considered it had received a remarkable sensation. Sir William knew that +things were moving in the direction he wished, when he saw Marjorie +Poole holding a little court in this manner. She was always a very +popular girl and knew everybody. But to-night was not ordinary. It was +plain that both Marjorie and Lady Poole were being courted because of +their relationship to Sir William Gouldesbrough. Of course everybody +knew the past history of the engagement. But now it seemed almost +certain that it would be renewed. Gouldesbrough realized all this in a +moment, and with intense satisfaction. The assumption that he and +Marjorie were once more engaged, or on the verge of being so, could not +but contribute towards the fact. + +Yes, it was a propitious hour. Everything was in his favour; this was +his grand night, and he meant that it should be crowned by the renewal +of the promise of the girl he loved. + +As he went up to the group he seemed wonderfully strong and dominant. +Marjorie's eyes fell upon him and brightened as they did so. Certainly +there was no one else like this man! + +Gouldesbrough wanted to carry Marjorie away to the supper-room at once, +but he was not to escape so easily. He was surrounded at once, and +congratulations were fired at him from every side. + +The old Duchess of Marble Arch, an ancient dame painted to resemble a +dairy-maid of one and twenty, laid a tremulous claw-like hand, blazing +with rings, upon Gouldesbrough's arm. She was a scandal-monger who had +ruined homes, a woman who had never done an unselfish action or ever had +a thought that was not sordid, malevolent or foul. Yet she was a great +lady, a Princess in Vanity Fair, and even Sir William could not +disregard her, so great and important was this venerable hag. + +"Well," she began in her high impertinent voice, "so you have outdone +Aladdin, I hear, Sir William. Really I congratulate you on your +thought-trap or whatever it is. I suppose we shall have you in the Upper +House soon! I wish you could manage to catch some thoughts for me on the +Stock Exchange. Couldn't you have your machine taken down to Capel +Court? I should very much like to know what some of the gentlemen who +deal in South Africans are thinking just now. The market is really in +the most abominable state. And do please bring the machine to one of my +At Homes. It would give me intense pleasure to know what is going on in +the minds of some of my friends. We could install it in one of the +smaller drawing-rooms, behind a screen. No one would know, and we could +catch thoughts all the evening--though I expect the machine would want +disinfecting after the first half-hour. I will see that there is some +Condy's fluid ready." + +She moved away chattering shrilly. Young Lord Landsend succeeded her. + +That nobleman showed very evident traces of living as hard as his purse +and his doctor would let him, and his pale countenance was stamped with +a congratulatory grin. "'Pon my soul, Sir William," he said, "this thing +you've made is really awfully jolly, you know. Topping idea really. Hope +you wont go fishin' round for my thoughts!" + +There was a general laugh at this, and some one was heard to remark that +they didn't think that Sir William Gouldesbrough would make any very big +hauls in that quarter! + +"But how splendid of you, Sir William!" said Mrs. Hoskin-Heath, a pretty +dark-haired woman with beautiful eyes. "It is really marvellous. Now +there will be a real meaning in the saying 'a penny for your thoughts!' +Shall you have penny-in-the-slot machines on all the stations of the +Twopenny Tube? So nice while one is waiting for a train. Just imagine +how nice it will be to let your _cher ami_ know how much you like him +without having to say any actual compromising words! You are a public +benefactor, Sir William." + +Another voice broke in upon Gouldesbrough's impatient ear. + +"How do you do, Sir William? It is a great pleasure to meet you on such +an occasion as this, an occasion which, if I may say so, is really +historic! You may not remember me, but I had the privilege of meeting +you at Brighton not long ago. My name is Charliewood, Sir Miles +Charliewood; we met on the melancholy occasion of my poor second +son's--er--death. You were very kind and helpful." + +Gouldesbrough shook hands with the old baronet. A shadow passed over his +face as he did so, and he would have given much to have avoided the +sight of him--not to have known at all that Sir Miles was in Portland +Place on this night of triumph. + +Gouldesbrough was one of those men who had solved the chief problem of +life. Like Napoleon, he was master of his own mind. His mind did not +dominate him, as the minds of most of us do. He controlled it absolutely +and never allowed thoughts of one part of his life to intrude upon those +of another. + +And now, with the frightful egotism of supreme self-will, he actually +felt aggrieved at this sudden meeting. It was, he thought, hard at this +radiant, happy moment! He did not want to be reminded of the past or of +the terrible and criminal secret of the present. Why should the pale +ghost of Eustace Charliewood come to trouble him now? His partner in an +unspeakable infamy, the tool he had used for the satisfaction of his +devilish desires was dead. Dead, gone away, no longer in existence. That +he, Gouldesbrough, was morally the murderer of the distracted man whom +he had forced into crime troubled him not at all. It never had troubled +him--he had learned to be "Lord of Himself." And now, in this moment of +unprecedented triumph, the wraith of the dead man rose up swiftly and +without warning to be a spectre at the feast. It was hard! + +But he turned to Sir Miles Charliewood and was as courteous and charming +as ever. His marked powers of fascination did not desert him. That +strange magnetism that was able to draw people to him, to make them his +servants and slaves, surrounded him now like the fabled "aura" of the +Theosophists. + +He bent over the pompous little man with a smile of singular sweetness. + +"Forget?" he said. "My dear sir, how could I forget? It is charming to +see you again. I hadn't an idea you knew Lord Malvin or were interested +in scientific affairs. Your congratulations are very welcome to me, +though you have said far more than I deserve. I hope we shall meet again +soon. I am generally at home in Regent's Park in the afternoons. It +would have made me very happy if poor Eustace could have been with us +to-night. He was one of my most intimate friends, as you know. And I +may tell you that he took a great interest in the experiments which have +now culminated so satisfactorily for me. Poor dear fellow! It is a great +sorrow to me that he is not with us. Well, well! I suppose that these +things are arranged for us by a Power over which we have no control, a +Force beyond our poor power of measuring or understanding. Good-night, +Good-night, Sir Miles. Do come and see me soon." + +He bowed and smiled, with Marjorie upon his arm, and then turned away +towards the supper-room. And he left Sir Miles Charliewood--who had not +cared twopence for his son during his lifetime--full of a pleasing +melancholy and regret for the dead man. + +Such is the power of success to awake dormant emotions in flinty hearts. + +Such is the aroma and influence which "doth hedge a king" in any sphere +of modern life! + +Sir William walked away with the beautiful girl by his side. He felt the +light touch of her fingers upon his arm, and his blood raced and leapt +with joy. He felt a boy again, a happy conquering boy. Yes, all was +indeed well upon this night of nights! + +As they entered the supper-room and found a table, Lord Landsend saw +them. He was with Mrs. Pat Argyle, the society actress, and his cousins +the young Duke and Duchess of Perth. + +Landsend was a fast young man of no particular intellect. But he was +kind, popular, and not without a certain personal charm. He could do +things that more responsible and important people couldn't do. + +As he saw the hero of the occasion and the night come in with Marjorie +Poole, an inspiration came to the rackety young fellow. + +He jumped up from his chair and began to clap loudly. + +There was a moment's dead silence. Everybody stopped talking, the clink +and clatter of the meal was still. + +Then the little Duchess of Perth--she was Miss Mamie Q. Oildervan, of +New York--took Landsend up. She began to clap too. As she had three +hundred thousand a year, was young, cheeky and delightful, she was a +leader of society at this moment. + +Every one followed suit. There was a full-handed thunder of applause. + +Lord Landsend lifted a glass of champagne high in the air. + +"Here's to the wizard of the day!" he shouted merrily. "Here's to the +conqueror of thought!" + +There was another second of silence. During it, the Duke of Perth, a boy +fresh from Oxford, caught the infection of the moment. He raised his +glass also--"And to Miss Poole too!" he said. + +People who had spent years in London society said that they had never +experienced anything like it. A scene of wild excitement began. Staid +and ordinary people forgot convention and restraint. There was a high +and jocund chorus of congratulation and applause. The painted roof of +the supper-room rang with it. + +Society had let itself go for once, and there was a madness of +enthusiasm in the air. + +Sir William Gouldesbrough stood there smiling. He entered into the +spirit of the whole thing and bowed to the ovation, laughing with +pleasure, radiant with boyish enjoyment. + +He felt Marjorie's hand upon his arm quiver with excitement, and he felt +that she was his at last! + +She stood by his side, her face a deep crimson, and it was as though +they were a king and queen returning home to the seat and city of their +rule. + +It was so public an avowal, chance had been so kind, fortune so +opportune, that Sir William knew that Marjorie would never retrace her +steps now. It was an announcement of betrothal for all the world to see! +It was just that. + +Lady Poole, who was supping with Sir Michael Leeds, the great +millionaire who was the prop and mainstay of the English Church, pressed +a lace handkerchief to her eyes. + +The bewildering enthusiasm of the moment caught her too. She rose from +her seat--only a yard or two away from the triumphant pair--and went up +to them with an impulsive gesture. + +"God bless you, my dears!" she said in a broken voice. + +Marjorie bowed her head. She drooped like a lovely flower. Fate, it +seemed to her, had taken everything out of her hands. She was the +creature of the moment, the toy of a wild and exhilarating environment. + +She gave one quick, shy glance at Sir William. + +He read in it the fulfilment of all his hopes. + +Then old Lord Malvin came down the room, ancient, stately and bland. + +"My dears," he said simply, "this must be a very happy night for you." + +Sir William turned to the girl suddenly. His voice was confident and +strong. + +"My dear Marjorie," he said, "how kind they all are to us!" + +A little group of four people sat down to the table beneath the +crimson-shaded light. + +Lord Malvin, the most famous scientist and most courtly gentleman of his +time. Sir William Gouldesbrough, the hero of this famous +party--to-morrow, when Donald Megbie had done his work, to be the hero +of the civilized world. + +Lady Poole. Sweet Marjorie Poole, in the grip of circumstances that were +beyond her thinking. + +And no one of the four--not even Sir William Gouldesbrough, F.R.S.--gave +a thought to the man in the living tomb--to Guy Rathbone who was, even +at that moment, tied up in india-rubber and aluminium bonds for the +amusement of Mr. Guest, the pink, hairless man of Regent's Park. Mr. +Guest was drunk of whisky, and sat happy, mocking his prisoner far down +in the cellars of Sir William's house. + +Other folk were drunk of success and applause in Portland Place. + +But Donald Megbie was awake in the Inner Temple, and his thoughts were +curious and strange. + +Donald Megbie had left the party too early in the evening. He was drunk +of nothing at all! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +STRANGE OCCURRENCE IN THE TEMPLE + + +Like most writers, Donald Megbie was of a nervous and sensitive +temperament. Both mental and physical impressions recorded themselves +very rapidly and completely upon his consciousness. + +He arrived at the Inner Temple with every nerve in a state of +excitement, such as he had hardly ever known before. + +He walked down the dim echoing ways towards the river, his chambers +being situated in the new buildings upon the embankment. + +A full moon hung in the sky, brilliant and honey-coloured, attended by +little drifts of amber and sulphur-tinted clouds. + +But the journalist saw nothing of the night's splendour. He almost +stumbled up the stairs to the first floor. + +A lamp was burning over the door of his rooms, and his name was painted +in white letters upon the oak. He went in and turned on the electric +light. Then, for a moment, he stood still in the hall, a +richly-furnished place surrounded on all sides by doors painted white. +His feet made no sound upon the thick Persian carpet, and the whole flat +was perfectly still. + +He felt uneasy, curiously so, as if some calamity was impending. The +exhilaration of his stirring talk with Sir William Gouldesbrough--so +recent, so profoundly moving--had now quite departed. His whole +consciousness was concentrated upon a little box of metal in the pocket +of his overcoat. It seemed alive, he was acutely conscious of its +presence, though his fingers were not touching it. + +"By Jove!" he said to himself aloud, "the thing's like an electric +battery. It seems as if actual currents radiated from it." His own voice +sounded odd and unnatural in his ears, and as he hung up his coat and +went into the study with the cigarette-case in his hand, he found +himself wishing that he had not given his man a holiday--he had allowed +him to go to Windsor to spend a night at his mother's house. + +A bright fire glowed in the grate of red brick. It shone upon the +book-lined walls, playing cheerily upon the crimson, green and gold of +the bindings, and turned the great silver inkstand upon the +writing-table into a thing of flame. + +Everything was cheerful and just as usual. + +Megbie put the box down on the table and sank into a huge leather +arm-chair with a sigh of relief and pleasure. + +It was good to be back in his own place again, the curtains drawn, the +lamps glowing, the world shut out. He was happier here than anywhere +else, after all! It was here in this beautiful room, with its books and +pictures, its cultured comfort, that the real events of his life took +place, those splendid hours of solitude, when he set down the vivid +experiences of his crowded life with all the skill and power God had +given him, and he himself had cultivated so manfully and well. + +Now for it! Tired as his mind was, there lay a time of deep thinking +before it. There was the article for to-morrow to group and arrange. It +was probably the most important piece of work he had ever been called +upon to do. It would startle the world, and it behoved him to put forth +all his energies. + +Yet there was something else. He must consider the problem of the +cigarette-case first. It was immediate and disturbing. + +How had this thing come into Sir William's possession? What +communication had Gouldesbrough had with Guy Rathbone? That they were +rivals for the hand of Miss Poole Megbie knew quite well. Every one knew +it. It was most unlikely that the two men could have been friends or +even acquaintances. Indeed Megbie was almost certain that Rathbone did +not know Sir William. + +Was that little shining toy on the table a message from the past? Or was +it rather instinct with a present meaning? + +He took it up again and looked at it curiously. + +Immediately that he did so, the sense of agitation and unrest returned +to him with tremendous force. + +Megbie was not a superstitious man. But now-a-days we all know so much +more about the non-material things of life that only the most ignorant +people call a man with a belief in the supernatural, superstitious. + +Like many another highly educated man of our time, Megbie knew that +there are strange and little-understood forces all round us. When an +ex-Prime Minister is a keen investigator into the psychic, when the +principal of Birmingham University, a leading scientist, writes +constantly in dispute of the mere material aspect of life--the cultured +world follows suit. + +Megbie held the cigarette-case in his hand. All the electric lights +burned steadily. The door was closed and there was not a sound in the +flat. + +Then, with absolute suddenness, Megbie saw that a man was standing in +front of him, at the other side of the fireplace, not three yards away. +He was a tall man, clean-shaven, with light close-cropped hair and a +rather large face. The eyes were light blue in colour and surrounded by +minute puckers and wrinkles. The nose was aquiline, the mouth clean-cut +and rather full. The man was dressed in a dark blue overcoat, and the +collar and cuffs of the coat were heavily trimmed with astrachan fur. + +The room was absolutely still. + +Something like a grey mist or curtain descended over Megbie's eyes. It +rolled up, like a curtain, and Megbie saw the man with absolute +clearness and certainty. He could almost have put out his hand and +touched him. + +Measured by the mere material standard of time, these events did not +take more than a second, perhaps only a part of a second. + +Then the writer became aware that the room was filled with +sound--sudden, loud and menacing. It was a sound as of sudden drums at +midnight, such a sound as the gay dances in Brussels heard on the eve of +Waterloo, when the Assembly sounded in the great square, and the whole +city awoke. + +In another moment, Megbie knew what the sound in his ears really was. +His own heart and pulses were racing and beating like the sudden +_traillerie_ of drums. + +In a flash he recognized the face and form of his visitor--this outward +form and semblance of a man which had sprung up and grown concrete in +the night! The phantom--if indeed it was a phantom--wore the dress and +aspect of Eustace Charliewood, the well-known man about town who had +killed himself at Brighton a few years ago! + +Megbie had never spoken to Charliewood--so far as he could remember--but +he knew him perfectly well by sight, as every one in the West End of +London had known him, and he was a member of one of the clubs to which +the dead man had belonged. + +The Thing that stood there, the Thing or Person which had sprung out of +the air, wore the earthly semblance of Eustace Charliewood. + +Megbie shouted out loud. A great cry burst from his lips, a cry of +surprise and fear, a challenge of that almost dreadful _curiosity_ that +men experience now and then when they are in the presence of the +inexplicable, the terrible and the unknown. + +Then Megbie saw that the face of the Apparition was horribly contorted. + +The mouth was opening and shutting rapidly in an agony of appeal. It +seemed as though a torrent of words must be pouring from it, though +there was not a sound of human speech in the large warm room. + +Great tears rolled down the large pale cheeks, the brow was wrinkled +with pain. The hands gesticulated and pointed, flickering rapidly hither +and thither without sound. And continually, over and over again, the +hands pointed to the gleaming silver case for cigarettes which Donald +Megbie clasped tightly in his right hand. + +The silent agitated Thing, so close--ah, so close! was trying to tell +Donald something. + +It was trying to say something about the cigarette-case, it was trying +to tell Megbie something about Guy Rathbone. + +And what? What was this fearful message that the agonized Thing was so +eager and so horribly impotent to deliver? + +Megbie's voice came to him. It sounded thin and muffled, just like the +voice of a mechanical toy. + +What is it? What is it? What are you trying to say to me about poor Guy +Rathbone? + +And then, as if it had seen that Megbie was trying to speak to it, but +it could not hear his words, the figure of Eustace Charliewood wrung its +hands, with a gesture which was inexpressibly dreadful, unutterably +painful to see. + +Megbie started up. He stepped forward. "Oh, don't, don't!" he said. As +he spoke he dropped the cigarette-case, which, up to the present he had +clutched in a hot wet hand. It fell with a clatter against the +fender--that at any rate was a real noise! + +In a moment the mopping, mourning, weeping phantom was gone. + +The room was exactly as it had been before, still, warm, +brilliantly-lit. And Donald Megbie stood upon the hearth-rug dazed and +motionless, while a huge and icy hand seemed to creep round his heart +and clutch it with lean, cold fingers. + +Donald Megbie stood perfectly motionless for nearly a minute. + +Then he knelt down and prayed fervently for help and guidance. At +moments such as this men pray. + +Much comforted and refreshed he rose from his knees, and went to one of +the windows that looked out over the Thames. + +He pulled aside the heavy green curtain, and saw that a clear colourless +light immediately began to flow and flood into the room. + +It was not yet dawn, but that mysterious hour which immediately presages +the dawn had come. + +The river was like a livid streak of pewter, the leafless plane-trees of +the embankment seemed like delicate tracery of iron in the faint +half-light. London was sleeping still. + +The writer felt very calm and quiet as he turned away from the window +and moved towards his bedroom. + +The fire was nearly dead, but he saw the silver cigarette-case upon the +rug and picked it up. He went to bed with the case under his pillow, and +this is what he dreamed-- + +He saw Guy Rathbone in a position of extreme peril and danger. The +circumstances were not defined, what the actual peril might be was not +revealed. But Megbie knew that Rathbone was communicating with his brain +while he slept. Rathbone was living somewhere. He was captive in the +hands of enemies, he was trying to "get through" to the brain of some +one who could help him. + +The journalist only slept for a few short hours. He rose refreshed in +body and with an unalterable conviction in his mind. The events of the +last night were real. No chance or illusion had sent the vision and the +dream, and the innocent-looking cigarette-case that lay upon the table, +and which had come into his hands so strangely, was the pivot upon which +strange events had turned. + +The little silver thing was surrounded by as black and impenetrable a +mystery as ever a man had trodden into unawares. + +And in the broad daylight, when all that was fantastic and unreal was +banished from thought, Megbie knew quite well towards whom his thoughts +tended, on what remarkable and inscrutable personality his dreadful +suspicions had begun to focus themselves. + +He sat down and wrote his article till lunch-time. It was the best thing +he had ever done, he felt, as he gathered the loose sheets together, and +thrust a paper-clip through the corners. + +He rose and was about to ring for his man--who had returned at +breakfast-time--when the door opened and the man himself came in. + +"Miss Marjorie Poole would like to see you, sir, if you are disengaged," +he said. + +Donald Megbie's face grew quite white with surprise. + +Once more he felt the mysterious quickenings of the night before. + +"Ask Miss Poole to come in," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +MARJORIE AND DONALD MEGBIE + + +The valet showed Marjorie Poole into Donald Megbie's study. + +She wore a coat and skirt of dark green Harris Tweed with leather collar +and cuffs, and a simple sailor hat. + +Megbie, who had never met Miss Poole in the country, but only knew her +in London and during the season, had never seen her dressed like this +before. He had always admired her beauty, the admirable poise of her +manner, the evidences of intellectuality she gave. + +At the moment of her entry the journalist thought her more beautiful +than ever, dressed as if for covert-side or purple-painted moor. And his +quick brain realized in a moment that she was dressed thus in an +unconscious attempt to escape observation, to be incognito, as it were. + +But why had she come to see him? She was in trouble, her face showed +that--it was extraordinary, altogether unprecedented. + +Megbie showed nothing of the thoughts which were animating him, either +in his face or manner. He shook hands as if he had just met Miss Poole +in Bond Street. + +"Do sit down," he said, "I think you'll find that chair a comfortable +one." + +Marjorie sat down. "Of course, Mr. Megbie," she said, "you will think it +very strange that I should come here alone; when I tell you why, you +will think it stranger still. And I don't want any one to know that I +have been here. I shall tell mother, of course, when I get back." + +Megbie bowed and said nothing. It was the most tactful thing to do. + +"I feel you will not misunderstand my motives," the girl went on, "when +I explain myself. In certain cases, and among certain persons, +conventions are bourgeois. We don't know each other very well, Mr. +Megbie, though we have sometimes had some interesting talks together. +But in a sense I know you better than you know me. You see, I have read +your books and other writings. In common with the rest of the world I +can gather something of your temper of mind, and of your outlook upon +life." + +Megbie once more inclined his head. He wondered furiously what all this +might mean. At the moment he was absolutely in the dark. He stretched +out his hand towards a tin of cigarettes that stood on a bracket by the +side of the fireplace, and then withdrew it suddenly, remembering who +was present. + +"Oh, do smoke," she said, instantly interpreting the movement. "Now let +me just tell you exactly why I am here, why I _had_ to come here. Of all +the men I know, you are the most likely to understand. You have made a +study of psychical affairs, of what the man in the street calls +'spooks'--you know about dreams." + +At that Megbie started forward, every muscle in his body becoming rigid +and tense, his hands gripping the knobs of his chair arms. + +"Of course!" he said, in a voice that rippled with excitement. "Go on, +please. I might have known your coming here this morning is all part of +the wonderful and uncanny experiences I had last night. You've come +about Guy Rathbone!" + +It was the girl's turn to start. Fear came creeping into eyes which were +not wont to show fear, the proud mouth grew tremulous. + +Marjorie stretched out her hands--little hands in tan-coloured gloves. +"Ah!" she cried, in a voice that had become shrill and full of pain, +"then it is true! Things have happened to you too! Mr. Megbie, you and I +have become entangled in some dark and dreadful thing. I dare not think +what it may be. _But Guy is not dead._" + +Megbie answered her in the same words. + +"No," he said, "Guy Rathbone is not dead." His voice had sunk several +tones. It tolled like a bell. + +"Miss Poole," he went on, "tell me, tell me at once what happened to you +last night." + +With a great effort of control, Marjorie began her story. + +"It was very late when we got home last night after the party," she +said. "I was in a curious state of nerves and excitement. I must touch +upon a personal matter--this is no time for reticence or false shame. I +had been with William Gouldesbrough. You know that we were at one time +engaged--oh, this is horribly difficult for me to say, Mr. Megbie." + +"Go on, Miss Poole. I know, I know. But what does it matter in such a +time as this?" + +"Nothing at all," she answered in a resolute voice. "I was engaged to +Sir William when I found out that my affection was going elsewhere--Guy, +Mr. Rathbone----" + +"You needn't go into the past, Miss Poole," Donald broke in, "tell me +about last night." + +"I was with Sir William at supper-time. There was a remarkable scene. It +was a sort of triumph for him, and I was with him, every one included me +in it. It was, obviously, generally assumed that we had become engaged +once more. On the way home, Sir William again asked me to be his wife. I +told him that I could not give him an answer then. I said that I would +tell him to-night. He is coming to Curzon Street to-night." + +"I beg you, I implore you to wait." + +Megbie's words were so grave, he seemed so terribly in earnest, that the +girl shrank from them, as one would shrink from blows. + +The same thought began to lurk in the eyes of the woman and the man, the +same incredible and yet frightful thought. + +Marjorie's cheeks were almost grey in colour. To Megbie, as he watched +her, she seemed to have grown older suddenly. The lustre seemed to him +to have gone out of her hair. + +"I reached home," she said. "Mother made me take a cup of beef-tea, and +I went to my room. I was preparing for bed, indeed I was brushing my +hair before the mirror, when a curious sense of disturbance and almost +of fear came over me. I felt as if there was another presence in the +room. Now my looking-glass is a very large one indeed. It commands the +whole of the room. The whole of the room is reflected in it without any +part left out, except of course which I could see where I sat. When this +strange feeling of another presence came over me, I thought it was +merely reaction after a terribly exciting night. I looked into the +glass and saw that the room was absolutely empty. Still the sensation +grew. It became so strong at last that I turned round. And there, Mr. +Megbie, I tell you in the utmost bewilderment, but with extreme +certainty, there, though the mirror showed nothing at all, a figure was +standing, the figure of a man. It was not three feet away." + +Megbie broke in upon her narrative. + +"The figure," he said in a hushed voice, "was the figure of Mr. Eustace +Charliewood, who shot himself at Brighton some little time ago." + +She cried out aloud, "Yes! But how did you know?" + +"He came to me also, last night. He came to me out of the other world, +which is all round us, but which we cannot see. He was trying to tell me +something about Guy Rathbone." + +Marjorie Poole began to sob quietly. + +"I knew it," she answered. "Mr. Charliewood in another state sees more +than we see, he knows where Guy is. Oh, my love, my love!" + +Megbie went up to her. He had some sal-volatile in his dressing-case, +and he made her take it. + +"Be brave," he said; "you have more to tell me yet, as I have more to +tell you. Guy is alive, we are certain of that. But he is in some one's +power. The spirit of this man, Eustace Charliewood, knows where he is. +He is trying to tell us. He is trying to make amends for something. He +must have had something to do with Guy's disappearance." + +"Mr. Charliewood," Marjorie said in a whisper, "was William +Gouldesbrough's intimate friend. He was always about the house. When Guy +Rathbone disappeared, Eustace Charliewood killed himself. William was at +Brighton at the time. He was trying to help me and my mother to find +Guy." + +"Go on with your story, if you can," Megbie said. "One more effort!" + +"I knew that the figure was trying to tell me about Guy. Something told +me that with absolute certainty. But it couldn't tell me. It began to +weep and wring its hands. Oh, it was pitiful! Then suddenly, it seemed +to realize that it was no use. It stood upright and rigid, and fixed its +eyes upon me. Mr. Megbie, such mournful eyes, eyes so full of sorrow and +terrible remorse, were never in a human face. As those eyes stared down +at me, a deep drowsiness began to creep over me. Sleep came flooding +over me with a force and power such as I had never known before. It was +impossible to withstand it. People who have taken some drug must feel +like that. Just as I was, in the chair in front of the dressing-table, +I sank into sleep." + +"And your dream?" Megbie said quietly. + +She started. "Ah, you know," she said. "The spirit of Eustace +Charliewood could not tell me while I was conscious. But in sleep he +could influence my brain in some other mysterious way. I dreamed that +Guy was in a sort of cell. By some means or other I knew that it was +underground. A man was there, a man whom I have met, a man--a horrible +creature--who is a fellow-worker of Sir William Gouldesbrough. The man +was doing something to Guy. I couldn't see what it was. Then the picture +faded away. I seemed to be moving rapidly in a cold empty place where +there was no wind or air, sound, or, or--I can't describe it. It was a +sort of 'between place.'" + +"And then?" + +"Then I saw you standing by the side of William Gouldesbrough. It was at +the party--Lord Malvin's party, which we had just left. I saw this as if +from a vast distance. It was a tiny, tiny picture, just as one could see +something going on under a microscope. William was talking to some one +whom I couldn't see. But I knew it was myself, that I was looking at the +exact scene which had happened at the party, when you were going away +with William, and he had stopped on the way to ask me to go into supper +with him. And, strangely enough, in another part of my mind, the +sub-conscious part I suppose, I knew that I was looking at an event of +the past, and that this was the reason why it seemed so tiny and +far-off. The picture went away in a flash--just like an eye winking. +You've been to one of those biograph shows and seen how suddenly the +picture upon the screen goes?--well, it was just like that. Then a voice +was speaking--a very thin and very distant voice. If one could telephone +to the moon, one would hear the voice at the other end just like that, I +should think. And though the voice was so tiny, it was quite distinct, +and it had a note of terrible entreaty. 'Go to Donald Megbie,' it said. +'Go at once to Donald Megbie, the writer. He will help. There is still +time. Go to Donald Megbie. I have been able to communicate with him. He +has the silver--Guy----' And then, Mr. Megbie, the voice stopped +suddenly. Those were the exact words. What they meant, I did not know. +But when I awoke they remained ringing in my ears like the echo of a +bell heard over a wide expanse of country. In the morning I resolved to +come to you. I didn't know where you lived, but I looked you up in +'Who's Who.' And as soon as I could get away without any one knowing, I +came here." + +Donald Megbie rose from his chair. He realized at once that it was +necessary to keep the same high tension of this interview. If that were +lost everything would go. + +"I know what the poor troubled spirit--if it is a spirit--of the man, +Charliewood, meant by his last words. There is a thing called +psychometry, Miss Poole. In brief, it means that any article which +belongs, or has belonged, to any one, somehow retains a part of their +personality. It may well be that the mysterious thought-vibrations which +Sir William Gouldesbrough has discovered can linger about an actual and +material object. Last night, when Sir William left me to take you in to +supper at Lord Malvin's, he left his cigarette-case behind him in the +conservatory where we had been sitting. I didn't want to bother him +then, so I put it in my pocket, intending to send it to him to-day; here +it is. It belonged to Guy Rathbone. I found it in Sir William's +possession, and I believe that it has been the means--owing, to some law +or force which we do not yet understand--of bringing us together this +morning." He handed her the cigarette-case. + +Neither of them could know that this was the case which Eustace +Charliewood had found in the pocket of Rathbone's fur coat, when he had +taken it from the Bond Street coiffeur in mistake. + +Neither of them could see how it had been restored by Charliewood to +Rathbone, and had been appropriated by Mr. Guest, when the captive had +been taken to his silent place below the old house in Regent's Park. + +And even Sir William Gouldesbrough did not know that he had seen the +thing in his study, just as he was starting for Lord Malvin's house, and +had absently slipped it into his pocket, thinking it was his own. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +PLANS + + +Sir William Gouldesbrough stood in the large laboratory. The great room +was perfectly dark, save only for a huge circle of bright light upon one +of the walls, like the circle thrown upon a screen by a magic-lantern. + +A succession of dim and formless figures moved and slid over the +illuminated space in fantastic silence. Now and then the face of part of +the dress of one of the figures would suddenly glow out into colour and +absolute distinctness. Then it would fade away into mist. + +There was a "click," and the circle of light vanished, another, and the +vast laboratory glowed out into being as Sir William turned on a hundred +electric bulbs. + +Mr. Guest was sitting upon a long, low table swinging his legs. His +great pink face was blotched and stained by excess, and his hand shook +like an aspen leaf. + +He jerked his head towards the opposite wall upon which the huge screen +was stretched--an enormous expanse of white material stretched upon +rollers of hollow steel. + +"Rathbone's getting about done," he said. "I give him another month +before his brain goes or he pegs out altogether. Look at those results +just now! All foggy and uncertain. He's losing the power of +concentrating his thoughts. Continuous thinking is getting beyond him." + +Sir William was sitting in an arm-chair. By the side of it was a +circular table with a vulcanite top, covered with switch-handles and +controlling mechanism. His long thin finger played with a little brass +button, and his face was set in lines of deep and gloomy thought. His +eyes were fixed and brooding, and sombreness seemed to surround him like +an atmosphere. He showed no signs of having heard his assistant for a +moment or two. Then he turned his face suddenly towards him. + +"My friend," he said, "you yourself will not last another month if you +go on as you are going. That is quite certain. You ought to know it as +well as I do. Another attack of delirium and nothing can save you." + +Mr. Guest smiled horribly. "Very possibly, William," he said, "I have +thought that it may be so myself. But why should I care? I'm not like +you. I have no human interests. Nothing matters to me except my work." + +"And if you die in delirium tremens you won't be able to go on with your +work." + +"My dear William, there is nothing left for me to do. In this new +discovery of ours, yours has been the master-mind. I quite admit that. +But you could not have done without me. I know, as you know, that there +is no one else in Europe except myself who could have helped you to +bring the toil of years to such a glorious conclusion. Well, there is +the end of it. I am nearly fifty years old. There is no time to start +again, to begin on something new. Life will not be long enough. I have +used up all my powers in the long-continued thought-spectrum +experiments. I have no more energy for new things. I rest upon my +laurels, content that I have done what I have, and content from the +purely scientific point of view. I've fulfilled my destiny. My mind is +not like the minds of other men I meet. It is not quite human. It's a +purely scientific mind, a piece of experimental apparatus which has now +done its work." + +He laughed, a laugh which was so mirthless and cold that even +Gouldesbrough shuddered at the soulless, melancholy sound. Then he got +down from the table and shambled over the floor of the laboratory +towards a cupboard. He took a bottle of whisky from a shelf, half filled +a tumbler with the spirit, and lifted it towards his chief in bitter +mockery. + +"Here's luck, William," he said, "luck to the great man, the pet of +Europe, the saviour of the race! You see I have been reading Mr. Donald +Megbie's articles in the papers." He drank the whisky and poured some +more into the glass. "Yet, William, most fortunate of living men! you +seem unhappy. 'The Tetrarch has a sombre air,' as the play says. What a +pity it is that you are not like me, without any human affections to +trouble me! I don't want to pry into your private affairs--I never did, +did I?--but I presume something has gone wrong with your matrimonial +affairs again? I'm right, am I not? Can't Miss Marjorie make up her +mind? Tell me if you like. I can't give you any sympathy, but I can give +you advice." + +Gouldesbrough flushed and moved impatiently in his chair. Then he began +to speak. + +"If what you say is true, Guest, then you must be a happy man. Your life +is complete, you have got what you wanted, you have done what you wanted +to do. And if you choose to kill yourself with amyl alcohol, I suppose +that's your affair. What you say is quite right. I am terribly worried +and alarmed about the success of _my_ great desire, the one wish +remaining to me. I don't expect or want sympathy from you, but your +advice is worth having, and you shall give it to me if you will." + +Wilson Guest nodded. "Tell me what is worrying you," he said. + +"You know that I have had great hopes of obtaining Miss Poole's consent +to our re-engagement. Everything has been going on well. Miss Poole +believes--or did believe--that the man Rathbone is dead. I used your +suggestion and hinted at a vulgar intrigue. At Brighton, when +Charliewood shot himself, I was constantly with Miss Poole and her +mother. My pretended efforts to solve the mystery of Rathbone's +disappearance told. I saw that I was winning back all the ground I had +lost. I had great hopes. These seemed to culminate the other night at +Lord Malvin's reception. Miss Poole promised to receive me the next day +and give me a definite answer. I knew what that meant; it meant yes. I +was prepared to stake everything upon it. When I called at Curzon Street +in the evening I was told that she was unwell, and could not see me. The +next day I succeeded in seeing her. I was taken aback. There was a +distinct change in her manner. The old intimacy and freedom which I had +been able to re-establish had gone. There was almost a shrinking in her +attitude--she seemed afraid of me." + +"Well, that is easily accounted for. You have done something hitherto +beyond human power. Naturally she regards you as a person apart--some +one who can work miracles. But what did she say?" + +"It wasn't that sort of shrinking, Guest. I know Miss Poole well. I +understand the real strength and brilliancy of her mind. She is not a +foolish, ordinary girl to be frightened as you suggest. I told her that +I had come for my answer. I think I spoke well. My heart was in what I +said, and I urged my cause as powerfully as I could. Miss Poole +absolutely refused to give me any answer at all." + +"Well, that is no very terrible thing, William. I know little of women, +but one is told that is their way. She will not yield at once, that is +all." + +"I wish I could think so, Guest. It did not strike me in that way at +all. And she said a curious thing also. She said that I might re-open +the question after the public demonstration. She wouldn't pledge herself +to give an answer even then. But she said that I must say nothing more +to her on the subject until after the demonstration." + +Wilson Guest laughed. + +"What a powerful drug this love is!" he said. "It's as unexpected in its +action as ether! My dear William, you are worrying yourself about +nothing. I'm sure of it. Remember that you can't look at the thing with +an unprejudiced eye. It's all quite clear to me. Miss Poole simply wants +to wait until she has seen your triumph with her own eyes. That is all, +believe me. You are in too much of a hurry. How curious that is! It is +the strangest thing in the world to find _you_--you of all men--in a +hurry. It is only by monumental and marvellous patience that you have +succeeded in discovering a law, and applying that law with my help, +which makes you the greatest man of science the world has ever known. +And yet you leap at the fence of a girl's hesitation and reserve as if +everything depended on breaking a record for the jump!" + +Gouldesbrough smiled faintly and shook his head. He was not convinced, +but it was plain that he was comforted by what Guest had said. + +His smile was melancholy and gently sad; and in the electric radiance of +the huge mysterious room he seemed like some eager and kindly priest or +minister who bewailed the sins of his flock, but with a humorous and +human understanding of mortal frailty. + +And there he stood, the greatest genius of modern times, and also one of +the most cruel and criminal of living men. Yet so strange and tortuous +is the human soul, so enslaved can conscience be by the abnormal mind, +that he thought of himself as nothing but a devoted lover. + +His passion and desire for this girl were horrible in their egotism and +their intensity alike. But the man with the marvellous brain thought +that the one thing which set him apart from the herd and redeemed him +for his crime was his love for Marjorie Poole. He really, honestly and +truly, believed that! + +It was not without reason that Donald Megbie had seen the blaze of +insanity in Sir William's eyes. A supreme genius is very seldom sane. +Professor Lombroso has said so, Max Nordau agitated scientific Europe by +saying it a few years ago. + +Yet some one more important said it many years before-- + + "Great wits are sure to madness near allied, + And thin partitions do their bounds divide." + +"So the matter rests there?" Guest asked. + +"Yes," Sir William answered; "but I have altered the day of the +demonstration. There is no need to wait after all! Everything is +prepared. I have sent out cards for Friday next, three days from now." + +Guest poured out some more of the spirit. He laughed rather +contemptuously. + +"Can't wait, then!" he said. "I'm glad I'm free from these +entanglements, William. Of course it doesn't matter when the people come +to see the thing at work. As you say, everything is quite ready. But +there is another thing to be considered. What about Rathbone? He's no +more use to us now, and he must be got rid of. Shall I go down-stairs +and kill him?" + +He said it with the indifference with which he might have proposed to +wash his hands. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A DEATH-WARRANT IS PRESENTED TO A PRISONER + + +When Wilson Guest spoke of the final extinction of the wretched subject +of their experiments, Sir William Gouldesbrough did not answer. He began +to pace the long room, his head was sunk upon his breast, and his face +was like the face of Minos, inscrutable and deadly calm. + +Suddenly the whistle of a speaking tube sounded in the wall. All the +laboratories and experimental rooms were thus connected with the house +proper. None of the servants were allowed to pass the connecting door, +unless by special leave. + +Guest went to the speaking-tube and placed it against his ear--an ear +that was pointed like a goat's ear. + +Then he looked at the tall figure which was pacing the laboratory. +"William," he called out with an impish giggle, "a lady has called to +see you. A lady from Curzon Street!" + +Gouldesbrough stopped short in his walk and raised his head. His face +suddenly became a mask of eager attention and alertness. + +Guest tittered with amusement at the effect which his words had +produced. "Don't be agitated," he said, "and don't look like Henry +Irving when he played Romeo. It isn't the young lady. It's the old one. +It's Lady Poole. The butler has shown her into the study, and she's +waiting to know if you can see her." + +Gouldesbrough did not reply, but left the laboratory at once. Guest +could hear his hurried footsteps echoing along the corridor. Then the +pink-faced man turned to the whisky bottle again. He poured out a +four-finger peg and sat down in the arm-chair which stood by the +vulcanite table which controlled the vast and complicated apparatus of +the thought spectrum. He sipped the whisky and looked at his watch. +"Rathbone's had the cap on for an hour," he said. "Well, he can go on +wearing it for a bit. If William agrees when he comes back it will be +the last time Rathbone will have the pleasure of helping in our +experiments. I may as well take a peep at his thoughts now. Lord! what a +fascinating game it is!" He turned a switch, and all the lights in the +place went out suddenly. Then his fingers found the starting lever of +the machines. + +He moved it, and immediately a low humming sound, as of a drum or fan +revolving at immense speed was heard, far away at the other end of the +laboratory. Then, immediately in front of where the scientist sat, the +great white disc of light, full twelve feet in diameter, suddenly +flashed into view. + +Images and pictures began to form themselves upon the screen. + + * * * * * + +Sir William found old Lady Poole in his study, not sitting placidly in +the most comfortable chair she could find, her usual plan wherever she +might be, but standing upon the hearth-rug and nervously swinging a thin +umbrella, the jewelled handle of which sparkled in the firelight. + +"Ah, William," she said at once in an agitated voice, letting him lead +her to a chair while she was speaking. "Ah, William, I am upset about +Marjorie. I am very upset about the girl. I thought over what was best +to be done, and I determined that I would take the bull by the horns and +come and talk things over with you. That is right, isn't it?" + +There was a little anxiety in the good lady's voice, for, however much +she desired Sir William for a son-in-law and liked him personally, she +was considerably afraid of him in certain of his moods. + +"My dear Lady Poole," he replied with one of his rare and charming +smiles, "there is no one whom I would rather see than you. And I'm sure +that you know that. Tell me all about it." + +His tone was gentle and confidential, and Lady Poole's face brightened +at once. + +"Dear William!" she said. "Well, I've come to you to talk about +Marjorie. Our interests are absolutely identical in regard to her. You +can't want to marry my daughter more than I want to see my daughter +married to you. Lately things have been going well between you both. I +saw that at once; nothing escapes me where Marjorie is concerned. She +was quite forgetting her foolish fancy for that wretched young Rathbone, +owing to his perfectly providential disappearance or death or whatever +it was. Then I made sure that everything had come right at Lord Malvin's +party, and especially when I heard that you were going to call next day. +I went out. I thought it better. And when I came home my maid told me +that Marjorie had not seen you after all. And since then I've kept an +eye on all that was going on, and I'm very seriously disturbed. Anything +I say seems to have no effect. Marjorie will hardly let me mention your +name to her; I cannot understand it at all. Her manner is changed too. +She seems expecting something or some one. My firm conviction is that +she has another fit of pining for young Rathbone. I told her as much +one evening. In fact, I'm afraid I rather lost my temper. 'Guy Rathbone +is most certainly dead,' I told her. 'I was as kind and sympathetic as I +could be,' I said, 'when Mr. Rathbone first disappeared. I very much +disapproved of him, but I recognized you had a certain right to choose +your own future companion, within limits. But now you're simply making +yourself and me miserable and ridiculous, and you're treating one of the +best-hearted and distinguished men in England in a way which is simply +abominable. It's heartless, it's cruel, and you will end by disgusting +society altogether, and we shall have to go and live among the retired +officers at Bruges or some place like that.'" + +Lady Poole paused for breath. She had spoken with extreme volubility and +earnestness, and there were tears in her voice. + +It is a mistake to assume that because people are worldly they are +necessarily heartless too. Lady Poole really loved her daughter, but she +did earnestly desire to see her married to this wealthy and famous man +who seemed to have no other desire. + +Sir William broke in upon the pause. "All you tell me, dear Lady Poole," +he said, "is very chilling and depressing to my dearest hope. But +difficulties were made to be overcome, weren't they? and to the strong +man there are no fears--only shadows. But what answer did Marjorie make +when you said all this to her?" + +"A very strange one, William. She said, 'Guy is not dead, mother. I know +it. I feel it. I feel certain of it. And when I feel this how can I say +anything to Sir William!' Then I asked her if she proposed to keep you +waiting for the rest of both your lives before she said anything +definite. She burst into tears and said that she was very miserable, but +that she intended to say something definite to you after the coming +reception here when you are going to show every one your new invention." + +"Yes," Sir William answered. "She has promised that, but I fear what her +answer will be. Well, we must hope for the best, Lady Poole. If I were +you I shouldn't worry. Leave everything to me. I have everything at +stake." + +"Well, I felt I must come and tell you, William," Lady Poole said. "I +felt that it would help you to know exactly how things stand. Perhaps +all will come well. Girls are very difficult to manage. I wanted +Marjorie to go out a great deal in order to occupy her mind and to keep +her from brooding over this absurd fancy that Guy Rathbone is alive. But +she seems to shun all engagements. However, she's fortunately thought +that she would like to try her hand at writing something, she was +always interested in books, you know. So she's spending a good deal of +time over it--a story I think--and Mr. Donald Megbie is helping her. He +calls now and then and makes suggestions on what she has done. A nice, +quiet little man he seems, and a fervent admirer of yours. I sounded him +on that point the other day. So even this little fancy of Marjorie's for +writing may turn out to be a help. Mr. Megbie is sure to become +enthusiastic if your name is mentioned in any way, and it will keep the +fact of how the world regards you well before Marjorie. Now, good-bye. +It's a relief to have come and told you everything. I must fly, and I +know you will want to get back to your electricity and things." + +Sir William went with her to the garden-gate in the wall, where her +carriage was waiting. Then he went back to the study and took down the +speaking-tube that communicated with the large laboratory. He asked +Wilson Guest to come to him at once. + +In a few minutes the assistant shambled in. His eyes were bright with +the liquid brightness of alcoholic poisoning; his speech was much +clearer and more decided than it had been earlier in the day. It had +tone and _timbre_. The crimson blotches on the face were less in +evidence. Guest had drunk a bottle of whisky since breakfast-time, a +quantity which would hopelessly intoxicate three ordinary men and +probably kill one. But this enormous quantity of spirit was just +sufficient, in the case of this man, to make him as near the normal as +he could ever get. A bottle of whisky in the morning acted upon the +drink-sodden tissues as a single peg might act upon an ordinary person +who was jaded and faint. + +Gouldesbrough knew all the symptoms of his assistant's disease very +well. He recognized that the moment in the day when Guest was most +himself and was most useful had now arrived. The effects of yesterday's +drinking were now temporarily destroyed. + +"I want your help, Wilson," he said, with a strange look in his eyes. "I +want to resume the discussion we were beginning when Lady Poole called. +You are all right now?" + +"Oh yes, William," the man answered without a trace of his usual giggle, +with the former sly malice of his manner quite obliterated. "This is my +good hour. I feel quite fit--for me--and I'm ready. About Rathbone you +mean?" + +"Exactly. Lady Poole has given me to understand that her daughter is +still pining after this person." + +"Call him a _thing_, William. He isn't a person any more. He is just a +part of our machinery, nothing more. And moreover a part of our +machinery that is getting worn out, that we don't want any more, and +that we ought to get rid of." + +"You think so?" + +"I'm certain of it. We must not lose sight of the fact that while there +is life in that body there is always danger for us. Not much danger, I +admit--everything was managed too well in the first instance. But still +there is danger, and a danger that grows." + +"How grows?" + +"Because at the present moment the newspapers of the civilized world are +full of your name. Because the eyes of the whole world are directed +towards this house in Regent's Park." + +"There is something in that, Wilson. Now my thought is that if the body +could actually be found, then Miss Poole would know, with the rest of +the world, that the fellow was actually dead. Could that be managed?" + +Guest lit a cigarette. "I suppose so," he said, thoughtfully. "But that +would be giving up an experiment I had hoped to have had the opportunity +of performing. Human vivisection would give us such an enormous increase +of scientific knowledge. It is only silly sentiment that does not give +the criminal to the surgeon. But have it your own way, William. I will +forego the experiment. It is obvious that if the body is to be found, +there must be no traces of anything of that sort. There would be a +post-mortem of course." + +"Then what do you propose, Guest?" + +"Let me smoke for a moment and think." + +He sat silent for two or three minutes with the heavy eyelids almost +veiling the large bistre-coloured eyes. + +Then he looked up. His smile was so horrible in its cunning that +Gouldesbrough made an involuntary shrinking movement. But it was a +movement dictated by the nerves and not by the conscious brain, for, +dreadful as was the thing Guest was about to say, there was something in +Sir William Gouldesbrough's mind which was more dreadful still. + +"The body shall be found," Guest said, "in the river, somewhere down +Wapping way, anywhere in the densely-populated districts of the Docks. +It shall be dressed in common clothes. When it is discovered and +identified--I know how to arrange a certain identification--it will be +assumed that Rathbone simply went down to the slums and lost himself. +There have been cases known where reputable citizens have suddenly +disappeared from their surroundings of their own free will and dropped +into the lowest kind of life for no explainable reason. De Quincey +mentions such a case in one of his essays." + +"Good. But how can it be done? We can't carry a body to Wapping in a +brown paper parcel." + +"Of course not. But has it not occurred to you that we are close to the +Regent's Canal? I haven't worked out details. They will shape themselves +later on. But there are plenty of barges always going up and down the +canal. Certainly we can do the thing. It is only a question of money. We +have an unlimited command of money. But, listen. Our body is alive +still. It will be quite easy for us--with our knowledge--to treat this +living body with certain preparations, and in such a way that when it is +dead it will present all the appearance of having been killed by excess +in some drug. The post-mortem will disclose it. If we keep it alive +during a month from now, we can make it a morphia maniac to all +appearance. We can inject anything we like into this Rathbone and make +him a slave to some drug, whether he likes it or not!" + +"No, Guest. The really expert pathologist would discover it. It couldn't +be done in a month. It might in six." + +"The really expert pathologist won't perform the post-mortem, William. +There are only ten in London! Some local doctor of the police will apply +the usual tests and discover exactly what we wish him to discover. He +will analyze a corpse. He won't synthesize a history of the corpse. Only +ten men in England could do that with certainty, and you and I are two +of those ten, though it is many years ago since we gave up that sort of +work for physics. So you see your object will be doubly served. The +actual death will be proved, and the fellow's life be discredited while +the apparently true reason of his disappearance will be revealed." + +Sir William looked steadily at his assistant. "Your brain is wonderfully +sufficient," he said. "It is extraordinary how it withstands the ravages +of alcohol. Really, my dear Wilson, you are a remarkable man. All you +say is quite excellent. And, meanwhile, I have a proposal to make." + +He suddenly rose from his chair, and his eyes began to blaze with insane +passion. He shook with it, his whole face was transformed. In his turn +he became abnormal. + +And just as the famous man had thought of the lesser, a moment or two +ago--had regarded him coldly and spoken of him, to him, as a mind +diseased--so now the lesser, stimulated to spurious sanity for the +moment, saw the light of mania in his chief's eyes. + +Two great forces, two great criminals, two horrid egotists, and both +lost men! Lost far more certainly and irrevocably than the prisoned and +dying gentleman far below in the strong room, where the electric fans +whispered all day and night, where the fetters jingled and the heart was +turning to salt stone! + +The man was changed utterly. The grave courtly ascetic vanished as a +breath on glass vanishes. And in his stead stood a creature racked with +evil jealousy and malice, a gaunt inhuman figure in whose eyes was the +glitter of a bird of prey. + +Guest saw the swift and terrible drop into the horrible and the +grotesque. He realized that for a brief moment he was master of the +situation. + +"Tell me, William," he said. "And what is your idea?" + +Gouldesbrough stopped. He turned towards his questioner and shook a +long, threatening arm at him. + +"Why," he said, "all this time the man Rathbone has never known why we +are keeping him in prison. He has never seen me, but day by day you have +descended to his cell, caught him up in the toils of the chains which he +wears, and hoisted him on to the couch. And all this time, when you have +fitted the cap upon his head, the man has known nothing of the reasons. +He is in the dark, mentally, as he is so often in the dark from a +physical point of view, when you, his jailer, see fit to turn off the +light. But now he shall know what we are doing with him. I am going down +to tell him that every thought which has been born in his brain has been +noted and recorded by you and by me. I am going to tell him what we are +going to do with his wretched body. He shall know of your proposals, how +that we, his lords and masters, will simulate in his tissues the +physical appearances of protracted vice. He shall know to-day how his +body will be discovered, and how his memory will be for ever discredited +in the eyes of the world. And I shall tell him to-day, that as he lies +bound and in my power, wearing the helmet of brass which robs him of his +own power of secret thought, that I am going up-stairs to watch his +agony in pictures, and that Marjorie will be with me--that she is +utterly under my influence--and that we shall laugh together as we see +each thought, each agony, chasing one another over the screen. We shall +be together, I shall tell him, my arms will be round her, her lips will +seek mine, and for the first time in the history of the world...." + +He stopped for a moment. His hand went up to his throat as if the +torrent of words were choking him. Then Guest cut in to his insane +ecstasy. + +"You are a fool, William," came from the pink-faced man, in an icy +titter. "Of course when you tell him why and how we have used him, he +will believe it. But I don't think that he will believe in your pleasant +fiction of you and the girl as a sort of latter-day Lacoön in one +arm-chair, laughing together as you take your supreme revenge." + +Gouldesbrough strode up to Guest. He clutched him by the shoulder. "Give +me the keys," he said, "the keys, the keys." + +Guest was not at all dismayed. Laughing still, he put his hand into his +pocket and took out the pass-key of the strong-room. + +"There you are, William," he said; "now go down and enjoy yourself. Our +friend is still tied down on the couch--he's been like that for several +hours, because I've forgotten to go and loose him. I'm going to have +some more whisky, and then I shall go to the big laboratory and switch +on the current. If I'm not very much mistaken, our friend's brain will +provide a series of pictures more intense and vivid, more sharply +defined in both outline and colour, than I have ever seen before, during +the whole course of our experiments." + +Gouldesbrough took the key and was out of the room in a flash. Guest +groped for the decanter. + + * * * * * + +His hair was quite grey now. All the gold had gone from it, just as the +youth had passed from his face--his face which was now the colour of +ashes, and gashed with agony. + +And he lay there, trussed and tied in his material fetters of +india-rubber and aluminium. On his head the gleaming metal cap was +clamped. He was supine and an old man. All the sap had gone from the +fine athlete of a few weeks ago, and the splendid body that had been, +was just a shell, a husk. + +But the soul looked through the eyes still, tortured but undaunted, in +agony but not afraid. + +In the lower silence of that deep cellar where Guy suffered there were +but two sounds. One was the insistent whisper of the electric fan, the +other was the voice which came from Sir William Gouldesbrough as he bent +over the recumbent figure--the broken, motionless figure in which, +still, brave eyes were set like jewels. + +"So now you know! You know it all, you realize, dead man, all that I +have done to you, and all that I am going to do. Down here, in this +little room, you have thought that you were alone. You have imagined +that whatever had happened to you, you were yet alone with the agony of +your thoughts, and with God! But you were not! Though you never knew it +until now, you never were! Each prayer that you thought you were +sending up to the unknown force that rules the world, was caught by me. +For weeks I have daily seen into your soul, and laughed at its +irremediable pain. I have got your body, and for the first time in the +history of the world, your mind, your soul, are mine also." + +The voice stopped for a moment. It had become very harsh and dry. It +clicked and rang with a metallic sound in this torture-chamber far +underground. + +And still the bright eyes watched the body of the man who was possessed, +very calmly, very bravely. + +The horrid voice rose into an insane shriek. + +"She is up-stairs now, the girl you presumed to love, the rose of all +the roses that you dared to come near, is sitting, laughing as she sees +all that you are thinking now, vividly before her in pictures and in +words. In a moment I shall be with her, and together we shall mock your +agonies, twined in each other's arms." + +Perhaps a vault in the dungeons of the Inquisition or in some other +place of horror where merciless men have watched the agonies of their +brethren, has echoed with pure merriment. Who can say, who can tell? + +Such a thing may have happened, but we do not know. But to-night, at +this very moment, from the prone figure stretched on its bed of pain, +from the heart of a man who had just heard that he was doomed to a cruel +death, and robbed of his very individuality, there came a bright and +merry laugh which rang out in that awful place as the Angelus rings over +the evening fields of France, and all the peasants bow in homage to +their Maker. + +And then the voice. "I know now why I am here, and what has been done to +me during these long, leaden hours. I am now at the point of death. But, +with all your devilish cleverness, with all your brilliancy, you are but +as a child. I suppose I shall not see you again, but I forgive you, +Gouldesbrough, forgive you utterly. And it is easier for me to do this, +because I know that you are lying. In this world she still loves me, in +the next she is mine, as I am hers. And it is because you know this that +you come and rant and laugh, and show yourself as the fearful madman +that you are. Good-bye, good-night; I am happier than you as I lie here, +because I know that, for ever and a day, Marjorie loves me and I love +Marjorie. And it won't be any time at all before we meet." + +And once again the laugh that echoed from stone wall to ceiling of +stone, was blithe and confident. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THOUGHTS OF ONE IN DURANCE + + +Once more the cell was only tenanted by the victim. Sir William had +gone, the great door had clanked and clicked, and Guy Rathbone still lay +upon his couch of torture. + +The electric light still shone, as Gouldesbrough had forgotten to turn +it off, or perhaps did not know that this was the invariable custom of +his assistant when Rathbone was clanked and bolted down to his bed of +vulcanite. It was the first visit that Sir William had paid to the +living tomb to which he had consigned his rival. + +Rathbone had laughed indeed, and his laugh was still echoing in the +frenzied brain of the scientist as he mounted upwards to the light of +day. But the laugh, though it had indeed been blithe and confident, had +been a supreme effort of will, of faith and trust, was merely the echo +and symbol of a momentary state which the tortured body and despairing +mind could not sustain. + +Rathbone could not move his head, fixed tight as it was in its collar. +But two great tears rolled from the weakened and trembling eyelids down +the gaunt, grey cheeks. The supreme ecstasy of belief and trust in the +girl he loved, the hope of meeting her again in another world where time +was not and where the period of waiting would be unfelt, passed away +like a thing that falls through water. Once more a frightful emptiness +and fear came down over him like a cloud falls. + +From where his couch was placed, though he could not turn his head, he +could see nearly the whole interior of his cell. There were the concrete +walls, each cranny and depression of which he knew so well. There was +the other, and scarcely less painful, bed upon which he slept, or tried +to sleep at such times when exhausted nature mercifully banished the +pain of his soul. It was not day when he slept, it was not night, for +day and night are things of the world, the world with which he was never +to have any more to do, and which he should never see again with +material eyes. + +There was the little table upon which was the last book they had let him +have, a book brought to him in bitter mockery by Wilson Guest a child's +picture book called "Reading without Tears." And he could see the +network of ropes and india-rubber attachments which went up to the +pulley in the roof, and which rendered him absolutely helpless by means +of the mechanism outside the cell which was set in motion before his +jailor entered. + +There was hardly any need for these ingenious instruments any longer. +The athlete was gaunt and wasted, his skin hung upon him in grey folds. +The gold had faded out of his hair and it was nearly white. The firm and +manly curve of the lips was broken and twisted. The whole mouth was +puckered with pain and torture. It was almost a senile mouth now. Very +little physical strength remained in the body--no, there was hardly any +need for the pulley and ropes now, and soon there would be no need for +them at all, until, perhaps, some other unhappy captive languished in +the grip of these monsters. + +His tired eyes gazed round the cell, and his thoughts were for a moment +numbed into nothingness. There was just a piece of lead at the back of +his brain, that was all. He was conscious of it being there, drowsily +conscious, but no more than that. + +Quite suddenly something seemed to start his mental lethargy, his brain +resumed its functions instantaneously. There was a roaring in his ears +like the sound of a wind, and he awoke to full consciousness and +realization of what Sir William had told him, of the unutterable terror +and frightfulness of his coming doom. All over his face, hands, and +body, beads of perspiration started out in little jets. Then he felt as +if a piece of ice were being slid smoothly down his spine--from the +neck downwards. His hands opened and shut convulsively, gripping at +nothing, and the soles of his feet, in their list slippers, became +suddenly and strangely hot. The collar round his neck seemed to be +throttling him, and his mouth opened, gasping for air. + +Then that deep and hidden chamber was filled with a wail so mournful, +melancholy and hopeless, so dismal and inhuman that the very concrete +walls themselves might also have melted and dissolved away before the +fire of such agony and the sound of such despair. + +He knew the dark and more sinister reason of his captivity, he knew what +they had made him and for what dreadful purpose. + +Ah! It was a supreme revenge. They had stolen him from his love and they +had stolen his very inmost soul from him. All the agonized prayers which +had gone up to God like thin flames had been caught upon their way like +tangible and material things, caught by the devilish power of one man, +and thrown upon the wall for him to see and laugh over. All his +passionate longing for Marjorie, all the messages he tried to frame and +send her through the darkness and the walls of stone, all these had been +but an amusement and a derision for the fiend whose slave he had become. +And all his hatred, his deep cursings of his captor, all his futile +half-formed plans for an escape were all known to the two men. And still +worse, his very memories, his most sacred memories, had been taken from +him and used as a theatre by William Gouldesbrough and Wilson Guest. He +understood now the remarks that the assistant had sometimes made, the +cruel and extraordinary knowledge he seemed to display of things that +had happened in Rathbone's past. It was all quite plain, all terribly +distinct. + +And worst of all, the sacred moments when he had avowed his love for +Marjorie, and she, that peerless maiden, had come to him in answer, +these dear memories, which alone had kept his cooling mind from madness, +were known and exulted over by these men. They had seen him kiss +Marjorie; all the endearments of the lovers had passed before them like +tableaux in a pantomime. Yes; this indeed was more than any brain could +bear. + +Rathbone knew now that he was going mad. + +Of course, God never heard his prayers, they could not get up to God. +Those beasts had caught them in a net and God never heard them. There +had always been that one thought, even in the darkest hour--that thought +that God knew and would come to his aid. + +The face, the rigid face, worked and wrinkled horribly. Ripples of agony +passed up and down it like the ripples upon the wind-blown surface of a +pool. It was not human now any longer, and the curious and lovers of +what is terrible may see such faces in the museum of the mad painter of +pictures at Brussels. + +Then, as a stone falls, consciousness flashed away, though the face +still moved and wrinkled automatically. + +Presently the door of the cell was unlocked, and Wilson Guest came in. +He was rather drunk and rather angry also. + +Sir William had come back from telling Rathbone the truth about what had +been done to him and what they proposed to do. Guest had been waiting in +the study with great expectation. He congratulated himself on having +worked up his patron sufficiently to make him visit Rathbone himself and +inform him of his fate. He had not thought that Gouldesbrough could have +been brought to do any such thing, and he had awaited his chief's +arrival with intense and cynical expectation. + +When at last Sir William did enter the room, his face was very pale, but +the passion of hideous anger had quite gone from it, and it was calm and +quiet. The eyes no longer blazed, the lips were set in their usual +curve. + +"Have you told him, William?" Guest asked in his malicious voice. "Have +you told him everything? Come along, then, let's go into the laboratory +at once and see what he thinks about it." + +There was no response. Sir William seemed as a man in a dream. When at +length he did answer his voice appeared to come from a long distance, +and it was sad and almost kindly. + +"Yes," he said, in that gentle mournful voice; "yes, my friend, I have +told him. Poor, poor fellow! How terrible his thoughts must be now. I +wish I could do something for him. The spectacle of such agony is indeed +terrible. Poor, poor fellow!" + +He sank into a chair, his head fell upon his breast, his fingers +interlocked, and he seemed to be sleeping. + +Guest looked at him for a moment stupidly. The assistant was fuddled +with drink, and could not understand these strange symptoms and +phenomena of a great brain which was swiftly being undermined. + +All he noticed was that Sir William certainly seemed sunk in upon +himself like an old man. + +With a gesture of impatience he left the room and traversed the corridor +until he came to the largest laboratory, where the Thought Spectroscope +instruments were. He turned up the electric light, found the switch +which controlled part of the machinery, moved the switch and turned down +the electric light once more, looking expectantly at the opposite wall. +There was no great circle of light such as he waited for. + +With an oath he stumbled out of the laboratory, not forgetting to lock +it carefully. And then, unlocking another door, a door which formed the +back of a great cupboard in No. C room, a door which nobody ever saw, he +went down a flight of stone steps to those old disused cellars, in one +of which Rathbone was kept. He opened the door and found the captive +still lying upon the vulcanite couch, his face still working like the +face of a mechanical toy, and in a deep swoon. + +Guest hastily unbuckled the straps and released the neck from the +collar. He carried Rathbone to the bed, locked the thin steel chains, +which hung from the roof, upon the anklets and the handcuffs, and then +dashed water repeatedly in his face. + +In his pocket, Mr. Guest invariably carried a supply of liquor. It +sometimes happened that in going from a room where he had exhausted all +the liquor, into another room where he knew he would find more, the two +rooms would be separated by a corridor of some little length, and it +sometimes happened that Mr. Guest needed a drink when he arrived in the +middle of the corridor. So he always carried a large, silver-mounted +flask in the pocket of his coat. He unscrewed this now and poured some +whisky down the captive's throat. In a minute or two a faint tinge of +colour appeared upon the cheekbones, and with a shudder and sob the +tortured soul came back to the tortured body, which even yet it was not +to be suffered to leave. + +"That's better," Mr. Guest remarked. "I thought you had gone off, I +really did. Not yet, my dear boy, not yet. Would not do at all. Would +not suit our purpose. I'm sure you won't be so disobliging as to treat +us in such a shabby way after all we have done for you. I understand +William has told you of the delicate attentions by which we propose to +make your exit as interesting and as valuable to science as possible." + +Rathbone looked at him steadily. He spoke to him in a weak, thin voice. + +"Yes," he said, "I know now, I know everything. But have you no single +spark of pity or compassion within you, that you can come here to mock +and gloat over a man who is surely suffering more than any one else has +ever suffered in the history of the world? Is it impossible to touch you +or move you in any way?" + +Mr. Guest rubbed his hands with huge enjoyment. + +"Ah!" he said chuckling, while the pink, hairless face was one mask of +pleasure. "Ah, that is how I have been wanting to hear you talk for a +long, long time. I thought we should break you down at last, though. For +my part I should have told you long before, only William thought that +you would not give yourself away about Miss Marjorie Poole if you knew +that we saw it all. However, we know now, so it don't matter. Dear +little girl she is, Mr. Rathbone. Sir William sees her every day. She +thinks you have gone off with a barmaid and are living quite happily, +helping her to manage a pub. in the East. Sir William sees her every +day, and she sits on his knee, and they kiss each other and laugh about +being in love. Charming, isn't it? Fancy you talking to me like that. +Pity? Pity? Aren't I your best friend? Don't I bring you your food every +day? And didn't I give you a drink just now? That's more than William +did. And besides to-morrow aren't I going to begin the injections that +in a month's time or so will make you appear a confirmed dipsomaniac, +just before I come down here and hold your head in a bucket of water +until you are drowned? Then, dress your body in nice, dirty clothes and +have you dropped in the Thames just above Wapping. Oh, Mr. Rathbone, how +could you say such cruel things to your good friend, Mr. Wilson Guest? +Well, I must be going. I don't think you will want anything more +to-night, will you? Good night. Sleep pleasantly. I am going to go to +bed myself, and I shall lie awake thinking of the fun there will be at +the inquest when the Doctor reports after the post-mortem that you were +a confirmed drunkard, and all the world, including Miss Marjorie Poole, +will know the real truth about Guy Rathbone's disappearance." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW THEY ALL WENT TO THE HOUSE IN REGENT'S PARK + + +The little door in the wall of Sir William Gouldesbrough's old Georgian +house stood wide open. Carriages were driving up, and the butler was +constantly ushering visitors into the vast sombre hall, while a footman +kept escorting this or that arrival up the gravel path among the laurel +bushes. + +It was afternoon, a dull and livid afternoon. Clouds had come down too +near to London, and thunder lurked behind them. Never at any time a +cheerful place, the old walled house of the scientist to-day wore its +most depressing aspect. + +The well-known people, who were invited to the demonstration of a +stupendous and revolutionary discovery, looked with ill-concealed +curiosity at the house, the garden, and the gloomy dignity of the hall. + +There has always been a great deal of surmise and curiosity about Sir +William's home and private life. That so distinguished a man was a +bachelor was in itself an anomaly; and, though Gouldesbrough went +continually into society, when he himself entertained it was generally +at restaurants, except in very rare instances. So the world of London +had come to regard the house in Regent's Park as a sort of wizard's +cave, a secret and mysterious place where the modern magician evolved +wonders which were to change the whole course of modern life. + +About forty people had been invited to the demonstration. + +Lord Malvin was there, of course. He came in company with Donald Megbie +and Sir Harold Oliver. + +All three men seemed singularly grave and preoccupied, and, as the other +guests noted the strange, and even stern, expression upon Lord Malvin's +face, they whispered that the leader of the scientific world felt that +on this day he was to be deposed and must resign his captaincy for ever. + +But in this case, as it generally is, gossip was at fault. Nobody knew +of the strange conference which had been held by Donald Megbie with Lord +Malvin and Sir Harold Oliver. Nobody knew how Miss Marjorie Poole had +driven up to Lord Malvin's house in Portland Place one afternoon with +Donald Megbie. Nobody would have believed, even if they had been told, +how the two grave scientists (who realized that, however many truths are +discovered, there still lie hidden forces which we shall never +understand this side of the Veil) had listened to the extraordinary +story the journalist and the society girl had to tell. + +Therefore, on this important afternoon, though Lord Malvin's seriousness +was commented upon, it was entirely misunderstood. + +Various other scientists from France, Germany and America were present. +Donald Megbie, the editor of the _Eastminster Gazette_, and a famous +novelist represented the press and the literary world. + +The Bishop of West London, frail, alert, his grey eyes filled with +eagerness, was one of the guests. Dean Weare came with him, and the +political world had sent three ambassadors in the persons of Mr. Decies, +the Home Secretary, Sir James Clouston and Sir William Ellrington. There +was an academician who looked like a jockey, and a judge who looked like +a trainer. The rest of the guests were all well-known people, who, if +they were not particularly interested in science, were yet just the +people who could not be ignored on an important occasion. That is to +say, they belonged to that little coterie of men and women in London +who have no other _metier_ than to be present at functions of extreme +importance! For no particular reason they have become fixtures, and +their personalities are entirely merged in the unearned celebrity of +their name and the apparent necessity for their presence. + +The men in their black frock coats passed over the great galleried hall +like ghosts, and the white furs of the ladies, and the grey plumes and +feathers of their hats, did little to relieve the general note of +sadness, or to bring any colour into Sir William Gouldesbrough's house. +Among the last arrivals of all were Lady Poole and her daughter. + +The guests had congregated in the hall where servants were handing about +tea, and where two great fires warmed the air indeed, but could not +destroy the sense of mental chill. + +Sir William had not yet made his appearance, and it was understood that +when the party was complete the butler was to lead them straight to the +laboratories. The fact marked the seriousness of the occasion. + +This was no social party, no scientific picnic, at which one went to see +things which would interest and amuse, and to chatter, just as one +chatters at an exhibition of water-colours in Pall Mall. Everybody felt +this, everybody knew it, and everybody experienced a sense of awe and +gravity as befitted people who were about to witness something which +would mark an epoch in the history of the world and change the whole +course of human life. + +As Marjorie Poole came into the hall with her mother, every one saw that +she looked ill. Her face was pale, there were dark rings under her eyes; +and, as she stepped over the threshold of the door, one or two people +noticed that she shivered. It was remarked also, that directly the two +ladies entered, Lord Malvin, Sir Harold Oliver, and Mr. Megbie went up +to them in a marked manner, and seemed to constitute themselves as a +sort of bodyguard for the rest of the stay in the hall. + +"She does not look much like a girl who is engaged to the most +successful man of the day, does she?" Mrs. Hoskin-Heath said to Lord +Landsend. + +"No, you are right," Lord Landsend whispered. "She is afraid Sir +William's machine won't work, and that the whole thing won't come off, +don't you know. And, for my part, though I don't profess to understand +exactly what Sir William is going to show us, I bet a fiver that it is +not more wonderful than things I have seen scores of times at Maskelyne +and Cook's. Wonderful place that, Mrs. Hoskin-Heath. I often go there on +a dull afternoon; it makes one's flesh creep, 'pon my word it does. I +have been there about fifty times, and I have never yet felt safe from +the disappearing egg." + +The butler was seen to come up to Lord Malvin and ask him a question. +The peer looked round, and seemed to see that every one was prepared to +move. He nodded to the man, who crossed the hall, bowed, and opened a +door to the right of the great central staircase. + +"My master tells me to say, my lord," he said, addressing Lord Malvin, +but including the whole of the company in his gaze--"my master tells me +to say that he will be very much obliged if you will come into the +laboratory." + +A footman went up to the door and held it open, while the butler, with a +backward look, disappeared into the passage, and led the way towards the +real scene of the afternoon's events. + +As that throng of famous people walked down the long corridor, which led +past the study door, not a single one of them knew or could surmise that +all and severally they were about to experience the emotion of their +lives. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE DOOM BEGINS + + +The visitors found themselves in the laboratory, a large building lit by +means of its glass roof. + +Sir William Gouldesbrough, dressed in a grey morning suit, received +them. He shook hands with one or two, and bowed to the rest; but there +was no regular greeting of each person who came in. + +At one side of the laboratory were three long rows of arm-chairs, built +up in three tiers on platforms, much in the same way as the seats are +arranged for hospital students in an operating theatre. + +The guests were invited to take their places, and in a minute or two had +settled themselves, the more frivolous and non-scientific part of them +whispering and laughing together, as people do before the curtain rises +at a play. This is what they saw. + +About two yards away from the lowest row of seats, which was practically +on the floor level, the actual apparatus of the discovery began. Upon +specially constructed tables, on steel supports, which rose through the +boarding of the floor, were a series of machines standing almost the +whole length of the room. + +Upon the opposite wall to the spectators was a large screen, upon which +the Thought Pictures were to be thrown. + +Save for the strange apparatus in all its intricacy of brass and +vulcanite, coiled wire and glass, there was more than a suggestion of +the school-room in which the pupils are entertained by a magic-lantern +exhibition. + +Marjorie Poole and her mother sat next to Lord Malvin, on either side of +him, while Donald Megbie, Sir Harold Oliver, and the Bishop of West +London were immediately to their right and left. + +Gouldesbrough had not formally greeted Marjorie, but as he stood behind +his apparatus ready to begin the demonstration, he flashed one bright +look at her full of triumph and exultation. Megbie, who was watching +very closely, saw that the girl's face did not change or soften, even at +this supreme moment, when the unutterable triumph of the man who loved +her was about to be demonstrated to the world. + +Amid a scene of considerable excitement on the part of the +non-scientific of the audience, and the strained tense attention of the +famous scientists, Sir William Gouldesbrough began. + +"My Lord, my illustrious _confrères_, ladies and gentlemen, I have to +thank you very much for all coming here this afternoon to see the law +which I have discovered actually applied by means of mechanical +processes, which have been adapted, invented and made by myself and my +brilliant partner and helper, Mr. Wilson Guest." + +As he said this, Sir William turned towards the end of the room where +his assistant was busy bending over one of the machines. + +The man, with the large hairless face, was pale, and his fingers were +shaking, as they moved about among the screws and wires. He did not look +up as Gouldesbrough paid him this just tribute, though every one of the +spectators turned towards him at the mention of his name. + +Truth to tell, Mr. Wilson Guest was, for the first time for many years, +absolutely bereft of all alcoholic liquor since the night before. For +the first time in their partnership Gouldesbrough had insisted upon +Guest's absolute abstention. He had never done such a thing before, as +he pointed out to his friend, but on this day he said his decision was +final and he meant to be obeyed. + +The frenzied entreaties of the poor wretch about mid-day, his miserable +abasement and self-surrender, as he wept for his poison, were useless +alike. He had been forced to yield, and at this moment he was suffering +something like torture. It was indeed only by the greatest effort of his +weakened will that he could attend to the mechanical duties of adjusting +the sensitive machines for the demonstration which was to follow. + +"I cannot suppose that any of you here are now unaware of the nature of +my experiments and discovery. It has been ventilated in the press so +largely during the last few days, and Mr. Donald Megbie has written such +a lucid account of the influence which he believes the discovery will +have upon modern life, that I am sure you all realize something of the +nature of what I am about to show you. + +"To put it very plainly, I am going to show you how thought can be +collected in the form of vibrations, in the form of fluid electric +current, and collected directly from the brain of the thinker as he +thinks. + +"I am further going to demonstrate to you how this current can be +transformed into a visible, living and actual representation of the +thoughts of the thinker." + +He stopped for a moment, and there was a little murmur from his guests. +Then he went on. + +"Before proceeding to actual experiment, it is necessary that I should +give you some account of the means by which I have achieved such +marvellous results. I do not propose to do this in extremely technical +language, for were I to do so, a large portion of those here this +afternoon would not be able to follow me. I shall proceed to explain in +words, which I think most of you will understand. + +"My illustrious _confrères_ in Science will follow me and understand the +technical aspect of what I am going to put into very plain language, and +to them especially I would say that, after the actual experiment has +been conducted, I shall beg them to examine my apparatus and to go into +the matter with me from a purely scientific aspect. + +"And now, ladies and gentlemen, let me begin. + +"That light is transmitted by waves in the ether is abundantly proved, +but the nature of the waves and the nature of the ether have, until the +present, always been uncertain. It is known that the ultimate particles +of bodies exist in a state of vibration, but it cannot be assumed that +the vibration is purely mechanical. Experiment has proved the existence +of magnetic and electric strains in the ether, and I have found that +electro-magnetic strains are propagated with the same speed as that of +which light travels. + +"You will now realize, to put it in very simple language, that the +connection between light and what the man in the street would call +currents, or waves of electricity, is very intimate. When I had fully +established this in my own mind, I studied the physiology of the human +body for a long period. I found that the exciting agents in the nerve +system of the animal frame are frequently electric, and by experimenting +upon the nerve system in the human eye, I found that it could be excited +by the reception of electro-magnetic waves. + +"In the course of my experiments I began more and more frequently to ask +myself, 'What is the exact nature of thought?' + +"You all know how Signor Marconi can send out waves from one of his +transmitters. I am now about to tell you that the human brain is nothing +more nor less than an organism, which, in the process of thought, sends +out into the surrounding ether a number of subtle vibrations. But, as +these vibrations are so akin in their very essence to the nature of +light, it occurred to me that it might be possible to gather them +together as they were given off, to direct them to a certain point, and +then, by means of transforming them into actual light, pass that light +through a new form of spectroscope; and, instead of coloured rays being +projected upon a screen through the prism of the instrument, the actual +living thought of the brain would appear for every one to see. + +"This is, in brief, precisely what I have done, and it is precisely +what I am going to show you in a few minutes. Having given you this +briefest and slightest outline of the law I have discovered and proved, +I will explain to you something of the mechanical means by which I have +proved it, and by which I am going to show it to you in operation." + +He stopped once more, and moved a little away from where he had been +standing. Every one was now thoroughly interested. There was a tremulous +silence as the tall, lean figure moved towards a small table on which +the shining conical cap, or helmet of brass, lay. + +Sir William took up the object and held it in his right hand, so that +every one could see it distinctly. From the top, where the button of an +ordinary cap would be, a thin silk-covered wire drooped down to the +floor and finally rose again and disappeared within a complicated piece +of mechanism a few feet away. + +"This cap," Sir William said, "is placed upon the head of a human being. +You will observe later that it covers the whole of the upper part of the +head down to the eyes, and also descends behind to the nape of the neck +and along each side of the neck to the ears. + +"A person wearing this cap is quite unconscious of anything more than +the mere fact of its weight upon his head. But what is actually going on +is, that every single thought he secretes is giving off this vibration, +not into the ether, but within the space enclosed by the cap. These +vibrations cannot penetrate through the substance with which the cap is +lined, and in order to obtain an outlet, they can only use the outlet +which I have prepared for them. This is placed in the top of the cap, +and is something like those extremely delicate membranes which receive +the vibrations of the human voice in a telephone and transmit them along +a wire to the receiver at the other end of it." + +He put down the cap, and looked towards his audience. Not a single +person moved in the very least. The distinguished party, tier upon tier, +might have been a group of wooden statues painted and coloured to +resemble the human form. Sir William moved on. + +"Here," he said, "is a piece of apparatus enclosed in this box, which +presented the first great difficulty in the course of the twenty years +during which I have been engaged upon this work. Within this wooden +shell," he tapped it with his fingers, "the thought vibrations, if I may +call them so, are collected and transformed into definite and separate +_electric_ currents. Every single variation in their strength or quality +is changed into a corresponding electric current, which, in its turn, +varies from its fellow currents. So far, I have found that from between +3,000 to 4,000 different currents, differing in their tensity and their +power, are generated by the ordinary thoughts of the ordinary human +being. + +"You may take it from me, as I shall presently show my scientific +brethren, that within this box Thought Vibrations are transformed into +_electric_ currents." + +He passed on to a much larger machine, which was connected by a network +of wires covered with crimson and yellow silk, to the mahogany box which +he had just left. + +The outside of the new piece of apparatus resembled nothing so much as +one of those enormous wine-coolers which one sees in big restaurants or +hotels. It was a large square case standing upon four legs. But from the +lid of this case rose something which suggested a very large +photographic camera, but made of dull steel. The tube, in which the lens +of an ordinary camera is set, was in this case prolonged for six or +seven feet, and was lost in the interior of the next machine. + +And now, for the first time, the strained ears of the spectators caught +a note of keen vibration and excitement in Sir William Gouldesbrough's +voice. He had been speaking very quietly and confidently hitherto; but +now the measured utterance rose half a tone; and, as when some great +actor draws near in speech to the climax of the event he mimics, so Sir +William also began to be agitated, and so also the change in tone sent a +thrill and quiver through the ranks of those who sat before him. + +"Here," he said, "I have succeeded in transforming my electric currents +into light. That is nothing, you may think for a moment, the electric +current produces light in your own houses at any moment; but you must +remember that in your incandescent bulbs the light is always the same in +its quality. Light of this sort, passed through the prism of a +spectroscope will always tell the same story when the screen presents +itself for analysis. My problem has been to produce an infinite variety +of light, so that every single thought vibration will produce, when +transformed, its own _special_ and _individual_ quality of light, and +that," he concluded, "I have done." + +Sir Harold Oliver, who had been leaning forward with grey eyes so +strained and intent that all the life seemed to have gone out of them +and they resembled sick pearls, gave a gasp as Sir William paused. + +Then Gouldesbrough continued. + +He placed his hand upon the thing like a camera which rose from the lid +of the larger structure below it. + +"Within this chamber," he said, "all the light generated below is +collected and focussed. It passes in one volume through this object." + +He moved onwards, as he spoke, running his fingers along the pipe which +led him to the next marvel in this stupendous series. + +"I have now come," he began again, "to what Mr. Guest and myself might +perhaps be allowed to think as our supreme triumph. Here is our +veritable Thought Spectroscope within this erection, which, as you will +observe, is much larger than anything else I have shown you. The light +which pours along that tube is passed through, what I will only now +designate as a prism, to keep the analogy of the light spectroscope, and +is split up into its component parts. + +"You will see that, rising out of this iron box," he ran his hand over +the sides of it as if he loved it, "the lens projects just like the lens +of a bioscope. This lens is directed full upon that great white screen +which is exactly opposite to you all; and this is my final demonstration +of the mechanism which I am now about to set in motion to prove to you +that I have now triumphed over the hitherto hidden Realm of Thought. +From this lens I shall pour upon the screen in a minute or two for you +all to see, without doubt and in simple view, the thoughts of the man or +woman on whom I shall place the cap." + +He ceased. The first part of the demonstration was over. + +Lord Malvin rose in his seat. His voice was broken by emotion. + +"Sir," he said, "I know, none better perhaps in this room, of the +marvellous series of triumphs which have led you to this supreme moment. +I know how absolutely and utterly true all you have told us is, and I +know that we are going to witness your triumph." + +He turned round to the people behind him. + +"We are going to see," he said, "the human soul laid bare for the first +time in the history of the world." + +Then he turned once more to Sir William, and his voice, though still +full of almost uncontrollable emotion, became deep and stern. + +"Sir William Gouldesbrough," he said, "I have to salute you as the +foremost scientist of all time, greater than Newton, greater than +Darwin, greater than us all. And I pray to God that you have used the +great talent He has given you in a worthy way, and I pray that, if you +have done this, you will always continue to do so; for surely it is only +for some special reason that God has allowed you this mastery." + +He ceased, and there was rustle and hum of movement among all the +people, as this patriarch lifted his voice with almost a note of +warning and menace in it. + +It was all so unusual, so unexpected--why did this strange prophetic +note come into the proceedings? What was hidden in the old man's brain? + +Every one felt the presence, the unseen presence of deep waters and +hidden things. + +Marjorie Poole had bowed her head, she was absolutely motionless. There +was a tension in the air. + +Sir William Gouldesbrough's head was bowed also, as he listened with +courteous deference to the words of one whose name had been chief and +most honoured in the scientific world for so many years. Those who +watched him remarked afterwards that he seemed to be stricken into stone +for a moment, as words which were almost a veiled accusation pealed out +into the great room. + +Then they saw Sir William once more himself in a swift moment. His eyes +were bright and there was a look of triumph on his face. + +"I thank you, Lord Malvin," he said, in a voice which was arrogant and +keen, "I thank you for your congratulations, your belief, and for your +hopes for me; and now my lord, ladies, and gentlemen, shall we not +proceed to the actual demonstration? + +"I am going to ask that one of you come down from your seat and allow me +to place the cap upon your head. I shall then darken the laboratory, +and the actual thoughts of the lady or gentleman who submits herself or +himself to the experiment will be thrown upon the screen." + +There was a dead silence now, but most of the people there looked at +each other in doubt and fear. + +It might well be that, confronted for the first time in their lives with +the possibility of the inmost secrets of their souls being laid bare, +the men and women of the world would shrink in terror. Who of us, +indeed, is able to look clearly and fairly into his own heart, and +realize in very actual truth what he is! Do we not, day by day, and hour +by hour, apply the flattering unction to our souls that we aren't so +very bad after all; that what we did last week, and what, +sub-consciously we know we shall do again in the week that is coming, is +only the result of a temperament which cannot be controlled in this or +that particular, and that we have many genial virtues--not exactly +specified or defined--which make it all up to a high level of conduct +after all? + +Yes! There was a silence there, as indeed there would have been in any +other assembly when such a proposal was made. + +They were all ashamed, they were all frightened. They none of them dared +submit themselves to this ordeal. + +And as they looked at their host they saw that a faint and mocking +smile was playing about his mouth, and that the eyes above it flamed and +shone. + +Then they heard his voice once more, and the new and subtle quality of +mockery had crept into that also. + +"Ladies and gentlemen, I am waiting for one of you to give me an +opportunity of proving all that I have told you." + +"My lord, will not you afford me the great privilege of being the first +subject of the new experiment?" + +Lord Malvin looked very straightly and rather strangely at Sir William +Gouldesbrough. + +"Sir," he said, "I am not afraid to display my thoughts to this company, +but shall I be the first person who has ever done so? Of course not. You +have had other subjects for experiment, whether willing or unwilling--I +do not know." + +Once again the guests saw Sir William's face change. What strange and +secret duel, they asked themselves, was going on before them? How was it +that Lord Malvin and Sir William Gouldesbrough seemed to be in the twin +positions of accuser and accused? + +What was all this? + +Lord Malvin continued-- + +"I am ready to submit myself, Sir William, in the cause of Science. But +I would ask you, very, very earnestly, if you desire that the thoughts +that animate me at this moment should be given to every one here?" + +Gouldesbrough stepped back a pace as though some one had struck him. +There was a momentary and painful silence. And then it was that the +Bishop of West London rose in his place. + +"Sir William," he said, "I shall be highly honoured if you will allow me +to be the first subject. I shall fix my thoughts upon some definite +object, and then we shall see if my memory is good. I have only just +come back from a holiday in the Holy Land, and it will give me great +pleasure to sit in your chair and to try and construct some memories of +Jerusalem for you all." + +With that the Bishop stepped down on to the floor of the laboratory, and +sat in the chair which Sir William indicated. + +The spectators saw the brass cap carefully fitted on the prelate's head. + +Then Sir William stepped to the little vulcanite table upon which the +controlling switches were--there was a click, shutters rolled over the +sky-lights in the roof, already obscured by the approach of evening, and +the electric lights of the laboratory all went out simultaneously. The +darkness was profound. The great experiment had begun. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE DOOM CONTINUES + + +They were all watching, and watching very intently. All they could see +was a bright circle of light which flashed out upon the opposite wall. +It was just as though they were watching an ordinary exhibition of the +magic-lantern or the cinematograph. + +And suddenly, swiftly, these world-worn and weary people of society, +these scientists who lived by measure and by rule, saw that all Sir +William Gouldesbrough had said was true--and truer than he himself knew. + +For upon this white screen, where all their eyes were fixed, there came +a picture of the Holy City, and it was a picture such as no single +person there had ever seen before. + +For it was not that definite and coloured presentment of a scene caught +by the camera and reproduced through the mechanical means of a lens, +which is a thing which has no soul. It was the picture of that Holy +City to which all men's thoughts turn in trouble or in great crises of +their lives. And it was a picture coloured by the imagination of the man +who had just come back from Jerusalem, and who remembered it in the +light of the Christian Faith and informed it with all the power of his +own personality. + +They saw the sharp outlines of the olive trees, immemorially old, as a +fringe to the picture. The sun was shining, the white domes and roofs +were glistening, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre loomed up large in +this vista, seen through a temperament, and through a memory, and seen +from a hill. + +For a brief space, they all caught their breath and shuddered at the +marvellous revelation of the power and magnificence of thought which was +revealed to them at that moment. And then they watched the changing, +shifting phantom, which was born from the thought of this good man, with +a chill and shudder at the incredible wonder of it all. + +The afternoon, as it has been said, was thunderous and grim. While the +representatives of the world that matters had been listening to Sir +William, the forces of nature had been massing themselves upon the +frontier-line of experience and thought. And now, at this great moment, +the clouds broke, the thunder stammered, and in that darkened place the +white and amethyst lightning came and flickered like a spear thrown from +immensity. + +The gong of the thunder, the crack and flame of the lightning, passed. +There was a dead silence. Still the spectators saw the mapped landscape +of the Holy City shining before them, glad, radiant and serene. + +And then, old Lady Poole dropped her fan--a heavy fan made of ebony and +black silk. It clattered down the tier of seats and brought an alien +note into the tension and the darkness of the laboratory. + +Everybody started in the gloom. There was a little momentary flutter of +excitement. And, as they all watched the gleaming circle of light upon +which the brain of the Bishop had painted his memories so truthfully and +well, they saw a sudden change. The whole, beautiful picture became +troubled, misty. It shook like a thing seen through water at a great +depth. + +Then the vision of the City where God suffered went straight away. There +was no more of it. It vanished as a breath breathed upon a window clouds +and vanishes. + +The concentration of mind of the Bishop must then--as it was said +afterwards--have been interrupted by the sudden sound of the falling +fan, for all those celebrated men and women who sat and watched saw dim +grey words, like clouds of smoke which had formed themselves into the +written symbols of speech, appear in the light. + +And these were the words-- + +"God will not allow----" + +At that moment the silence was broken by a tiny sound. It is always the +small sound that defines blackness and silence. + +Sir William, who perhaps had realized where the thoughts of the Bishop +were leading him, who had doubtless understood the terror of the naked +soul, the terror which he himself had made possible, switched on the +light. The whole laboratory was illuminated, and it was seen that the +people were looking at each other with white faces; and that the folk, +who were almost strangers, were grasping each other by the wrist. And +the Bishop himself was sitting quietly in the chair, with a very pale +face and a slight smile. + +At that moment the people who had come to catch the visual truth of this +supreme wonder, rose as one man. Voices were heard laughing and sobbing; +little choked voices mingled and merged in a cacophany of fear. + +It was all light now, light and bright, and these men and women of the +world were weeping on each other's shoulders. + +The Bishop rose. + +"Oh, please," he said, "please, my dears, be quiet. This is wonderful, +this is inexplicable, but we have only begun. Let us see this thing +through to the very, very end. Hush! Be quiet! There is no reason, nor +is there any need, for hysteria or for fear." + +The words of the Churchman calmed them all. They looked at him, they +looked at each other with startled eyes, and once more there was a great +and enduring silence. + +Then Sir William spoke. His face was as pale as linen; he was not at all +the person whom they had seen half-an-hour ago--but he spoke swiftly to +them. + +"His Lordship," he said, "has given us one instance of how the brain +works, and he has enabled us to watch his marvellous memory of what he +has so lately seen. And now, I will ask some one or other of you to come +down here and help me." + +Young Lord Landsend looked at Mrs. Hoskin-Heath and winked. + +"I shall be very pleased, Sir William," he said in the foolish, staccato +voice of his class and kind, "I shall be very pleased, Sir William, to +think for you and all the rest of us here." + +Lord Landsend stumbled down from where he sat and went towards the +chair. As he did so, there were not wanting people who whispered to +each other that a penny for his thoughts was an enormous price to pay. +The cap was fitted on his head; they all saw it gleaming there above the +small and vacuous face; and then once more the lights went out. + +The great circle of white light upon the screen remained fixed and +immovable. No picture formed itself or occurred within the frame of +light and shadow. For nearly a minute the circle remained unsullied. + +Then Mrs. Hoskin-Heath began to titter. Every one, relieved from the +tension of the first experiment, joined her in her laugh. They all +realized that young Lord Landsend could not think, and had not any +thoughts at all. In the middle of their laughter, which grew and rose +until the whole place was filled with it, the young man, doubtless +spurred on by this unaccustomed derision, began to think. + +And what they all saw was just this--some one they had all seen before, +many times, after dinner. + +They simply saw, in rather cloudy colour, Miss Popsy Wopsy, the +celebrated Gaiety girl, alertly doing things of no importance, while the +baton of the conductor made a moving shadow upon the chiffon of her +frock. + +And so here was another brain, caught up, classified and seen. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +MR. WILSON GUEST MAKES A MISTAKE + + +Mr. Wilson Guest had seen all this many times before. The actual +demonstration would have given him amusement and filled him with that +odd secret pride which was the only reward he asked from that science +which he had followed so long under different conditions than the +present. + +If Sir William Gouldesbrough had not absolutely prohibited the use of +any alcohol upon that day, Guest might have been normal and himself. It +was in this matter that Sir William made a great mistake. In his extreme +nervousness and natural anxiety, he forgot the pathology of his subject, +and did not realize how dangerous it is to rob a man of his drug, and +then expect him to do his work. + +Guest's assistance had been absolutely necessary in the first instance, +in order to prepare the various parts of the Thought Spectrum, and to +ensure the proper working of the machinery. + +But now, when all that was done, when the demonstration was actually +going on and everything was working smoothly and well, there was no +immediate need at the moment for Guest's presence in the laboratory. + +Accordingly, while Lord Landsend was vainly trying to secrete thought, +Wilson Guest slipped out by the side-door in the dark. He was in a long +passage leading to the other experimental rooms, and he heaved a great +sigh of relief. High above in the air, the thunder could still be heard +growling, but the corridor itself, lit by its rows of electric lights +and softly carpeted, seemed to the wretched man nothing but an avenue to +immediate happiness. + +He shambled and almost trotted towards the dining-room in the other part +of the house, where he knew that he would find something to drink +quicker than anywhere else. He crossed the big hall and went into the +dining-room. No one was there. + +It was a panelled room with a softly glowing wood fire upon the hearth, +and heavy crimson curtains shutting out the dying lights of the day. On +a gleaming mahogany sideboard were bottles of cut-glass, ruby, diamond, +and amber; bottles in which the soft firelight gleamed and was repeated +in a thousand twinkling points. + +A loud sob of relief burst from the drunkard, and he went up to the +sideboard with the impish greed and longing that one sees in some great +ape. + +And now, as his shadow, cast upon the wall in the firelight, parodied +and distorted all his movements, there seemed _two_ obscene and evil +creatures in the rich and quiet room. It was as though the man with his +huge hairless face were being watched and waited for by an ape-like +ambassador from hell. + +Guest clutched the mahogany sideboard and, his fingers were so hot that +a greyness like that of damp breath on frosted glass glowed out upon the +wood--it seemed as if the man's very touch brought mildew and blight. + +Guest ran his eye rapidly along the decanters. His throat felt as though +it was packed with hot flour. His mouth tasted as if he had been sucking +a brass tap. His tongue was swollen and his lips were hard, cracked, and +feverish. He snatched the brandy bottle from a spirit-case, and poured +all that was in it into a heavy cut-glass tumbler. Then, looking round +for more, for the tantalus had not been more than one-fourth part full, +he saw a long wicker-covered bottle of curaçao, and he began to pour +from it into the brandy. Then, without water, or mineral water, he began +to gulp down this astonishing and powerful mixture, which, in a fourth +of its quantity, would probably have struck down the ordinary man, as a +tree snaps and falls in a sudden wind. + +It had been Guest's intention to take enough alcohol to put him into +something like a normal condition, and then to return to the laboratory +to assist at the concluding scenes of the demonstration, and to enjoy it +in his own malicious and sinister fashion. But as the liquor seemed to +course through his veins and to relieve them of the intolerable strain, +as he felt his whole body respond to the dose of poison to which he had +accustomed it, thoughts of returning to the laboratory became very dim +and misty. + +Here was this large comfortable room with its panelled walls, its old +family portraits in their massive gilt frames, this fire of wood logs in +a great open hearth, sending out so pleasant and hospitable an +invitation to remain. Every fibre of the wretch's body urged him to take +the twilight hour and enjoy it. + +Guest sat down in a great arm-chair, padded with crimson leather, and +gazed dreamily into the white heart of the fire. + +He felt at peace, and for five minutes sat there without movement, +looking in the flickering firelight like some grotesque Chinese +sculpture, some god of darkness made by a silent moon-faced man on the +far shores of the Yang-tze-Kiang. + +Then Mr. Guest began to move again; the fuel that he had taken was +burning out. The man's organism had become like one of those toy engines +for children, which have for furnace a little methyl lamp, and which +must be constantly renewed if the wheels of the mechanism are to +continue to revolve. + +Mr. Guest rose from the arm-chair and shambled over to the sideboard +again. The bottle of curaçao was still almost full, though there did not +appear to be any more brandy. + +That would do, he thought, and he poured from the bottle into his glass +as if he had been pouring beer. The wretched man had forgotten that, in +his present state--a state upon the very verge of swift and hidden +paroxysm and of death--the long abstention of the morning and afternoon +had modified his physiological condition. Moreover, the suddenness of +these stealthy potations in the dining-room began to have their way with +him. He was a man whom it was almost impossible to make intoxicated, as +the ordinary person understands intoxication. When Guest was drunk, his +mind became several shades more evil, that was all. + +But at this moment the man succumbed, and in half-an-hour his brain was +absolutely clouded and confused. He had forgotten both time and +occasion, and could not think coherently. + +At last he seemed to realize this himself. He rose to his feet and, +clutching hold of the dining-room table, swayed and lurched towards the +dining-room door. There was a dim consciousness within him of something +which was imminently necessary to be done, but which he had forgotten or +was unable to recall. + +"What was it?" he kept asking himself with a thick indistinctness. "I +knew I had somethin' to do, somethin' important, can't think what it +was." + +At that moment his hand, which he had thrust into his pocket, touched a +key. + +"I've got it," he said, "'course, I know now. I must go down and put the +cap on Rathbone, after I have injected the alcohol preparation. William +and I want to sit in front of the screen and follow his thoughts; they +are funnier than they ever used to be before we told him what we were +doing to him. I'll just take one more drink, then I'll go down-stairs to +the cellars at once." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +AT LAST! + + +When the sounds of amused laughter at Lord Landsend's unconscious +revelation had passed away, and that young nobleman, slightly flushed +indeed, but still with the imperturbability that a man of his class and +kind learns how to wear on all occasions, had regained his seat, a fire +of questions poured in upon Sir William Gouldesbrough. + +The famous scientists of the party had all risen and were conferring +together in a ripple of rapid and exciting talk, which for the +convenience of the foreign members of their number, was conducted in +French. + +Marjorie Poole, who had not looked at Sir William at all during the +whole of the afternoon, was very pale and quiet. + +Gouldesbrough had noticed this, and even in the moment of supreme +triumph his heart was heavy within him. He feared that something +irrevocable had come between him and the girl he loved, and her pallor +only intensified his longing to be done with the whole thing, to be +alone with her and to have the explanation which he desired so keenly +and yet dreaded so acutely. For what Lord Malvin had said to him had +stabbed him with a deadly fear, as each solemn, significant word rang +through the room. + +"Could it be," he asked himself, "could it possibly be that these people +suspected or knew anything?" + +His quick brain answered the question in its own swift and logical +fashion. It was utterly impossible that Lord Malvin _could_ know +anything. His words were a coincidence and that was all. No, he need not +fear, and possibly, he thought, the long strain of work and worry had +had its influence upon his nerves and he had become morbid and unstrung. +That fear passed, but there was still in his heart the fear, and +strangely enough an even greater fear, that he would never now make +Marjorie his own. + +His outward face and demeanour showed nothing of the storm and riot +within. He was calm, self-possessed, and smiling, quick to answer and to +reply, to explain this or that point in his discoveries, to be adequate, +confident and serene. + +In reply to a question from Dean Weare, Sir William leant upon one of +the cases which covered the thought-transforming mechanism and gave a +little lecture. + +"Quite so, Mr. Dean," he said; "it is exactly as you suppose, the form, +power, and vividness of the pictures upon the screen correspond exactly +with the strength of the intellect of the person whose thoughts are +making these pictures. You will find your strongly imaginative man, or +your man whose brain is much turned inward upon himself, and who, for +this very reason takes little part in the action or movement of life, +will give a far more complete and vivid picture than any other. For +example, assuming that the Bishop's valet is an ordinary servant and +accompanied his Lordship to Palestine a few months ago, and saw exactly +what his Lordship saw, that man's memories would not be thrown upon the +screen with such wonderful vividness as his Lordship's were. He would +not be able, in all probability, to produce a picture, a general +impression, which is a real picture and not a photograph, and which so +conveys the exact likeness of a place far more than any photograph could +ever do. His thoughts would probably be represented by some special +incident which had struck his fancy at the time and assumed a proportion +in his mind which a cultured and logical faculty of thought would at +once reject as being out of due proportion. And finally, in a precise +ratio to the power of the brain--I do not mean to its health, or +ill-health, its weight or size, I mean its pure _thinking_ power--so +are the thoughts, when transformed into light, vivid or not vivid, as +the case may be." + +Mrs. Hoskin-Heath turned to Lord Landsend, who was sitting beside her. +Her pretty face wore a roguish smile as she whispered to him. + +"Billy, what an awful donkey _you_ must be." + +Lord Landsend looked at her for a moment. Then he answered-- + +"Well, you know, I am not at all sure that it is not a jolly good thing +to be sometimes. I would not be that fellow Gouldesbrough for anything." + +She looked at him in amusement. There was something quite serious in the +young man's face. + +"Why," she said, in a whisper, "what do you mean, Billy?" + +"I may not be clever," said Lord Landsend, "but I prefer to spend my +life doing what amuses me, not what other people think I ought to do. At +the same time I know men, and I know that scientific Johnny over there +has got something on his mind which I should not care to have. Poor +Tommy Decies had that look in his eyes the night before Ascot last year, +poor Eustace Charliewood had it just before he went down to Brighton and +shot himself; and you may take it from me, Mrs. Hoskin-Heath, that I +know what I am talking about." + +"And now," said Sir William, looking up and down the rows of faces +opposite him. "And now, which of you will submit himself to the next +experiment?" + +Then Lord Landsend spoke. He was determined to "get his own back," as he +would have put it, if possible. + +"Why don't you have a try yourself, Sir William," he said, with a not +very friendly grin; "or won't what d'you call 'em work for its master? +You had my thoughts for nothing, I'll give you twopence for yours." + +There was an ill-suppressed titter from the more frivolous portion of +the spectators; but Lord Malvin turned round and looked at the young man +with a frown of disapproval. There was something in that leonine head +and those calm wise eyes which compelled him to silence. + +Then Herr Schmoulder, a famous savant from Berlin, spoke. + +"It would an interesting demonstration make," he said, "of der statement +of der relative power that the strong and weak brain possesses if we +could see der apparatus in operation upon der thought vibrations +transformed of an intelligence which not equal to our own is." + +Mrs. Hoskin-Heath chimed in, her beautiful, silvery notes coming, after +the deep, grave, guttural, like a peal of bells heard in the lull of a +thunderstorm. + +"What a _good_ idea, Sir William!" she said. "I wish you would let me +send for my footman. He is sure to be in the servants' hall. It would be +so interesting to know his real opinion of me and my husband; and he +certainly is a most consummate fool, and would be a thoroughly good +subject for such an experiment. I brought him out of Gloucestershire. +You know, he was one of the under-footmen at my brother's place, and I +have been trying to train him, though with little success. I mean that +he is too stolid to be shy, and, therefore, won't object at all, as some +men would, to put the cap on and sit down here in the dark. He won't be +frightened, I am sure." + +"By all means, Mrs. Hoskin-Heath," Gouldesbrough said with a smile. "No +doubt one could not have a better subject, and I really shall be able to +illustrate the difference between the relative values of brain-power by +this means. You will all be able to notice the difference in the +vividness and outline of the pictures or words that will appear." + +Sir William turned round for Wilson Guest, whom he proposed to send upon +the mission, but could not find him. + +"I will ring for the butler," he said, "and tell him to fetch your man, +Mrs. Hoskin-Heath." + +"Oh! don't do that," a voice said upon the second tier. +"I--I--am--er--not feeling very well, Sir William, and I was going to +ask your permission to go and sit down in the hall for a few minutes; I +will tell one of your servants, they are sure to be about." + +The voice was the voice of Donald Megbie. He did not look at all ill, +but he stepped down with a smile and went out of the laboratory, while +everybody waited for the advent of Mrs. Hoskin-Heath's footman. + +Once more Sir William looked round to see if Wilson Guest had returned. + +The actual projecting apparatus by which the transformed light rays were +thrown upon the screen required some attention. The delicate apparatus +which focussed the lens of the projector, in order to bring it into the +nearest possible co-ordination with the light which it had to magnify +and transmit, needed some little care. + +"Will you excuse me for a moment," he said to everybody there, "if I +leave you in darkness again, until the man comes? I wish to attend to a +portion of the mechanism here, and I can only do so by turning off the +lights." + +There was a chorus of "Oh, please do so, Sir William," and suddenly the +laboratory was once more plunged into utter blackness. + +Nobody talked much now, curiously enough. For a moment there was nothing +heard but the regular beating of Lady Poole's fan, and one whispering +conversation which might, or might not, have been carried on between +Lord Landsend and Mrs. Hoskin-Heath. + +Then the thunder, which had been quiet for a little time, began to +mutter once more. The dark air became hot and full of oppression. And in +the dark Lord Malvin took the hand of Marjorie Poole in his own. "Be +brave," he said into her ear. "I know what you must suffer, believing +what you believe." + +She whispered back to him. + +"I have known it ever since I have been in this place," she said. "Oh! +Lord Malvin, I have known it quite certainly, _Guy is in this house_!" + +"Donald Megbie has gone out, as you saw just now," he answered. "Be +brave! be strong! I believe that God is guiding you. I too have felt the +psychic influence of something strange and very, very terrible in the +air of this house." + +In a moment more the beginning of the end came. The great twelve-foot +circle of light flashed out upon the screen, but now with an +extraordinary brightness and vividness, such as the spectators had not +seen before during the course of the experiments. For a space of, +perhaps, ten seconds, there was no sound at all. Nobody quite realized +that anything out of the ordinary was happening, except possibly the +scientists, who had a complete grasp of the mechanical methods of the +experiments and realized that in this room, at any rate, no one was +wearing the cap. + +There was a loud cry of astonishment, and, so it seemed, of alarm. + +Sharply outlined against the brilliant circle, sharply outlined in a +gigantic shape, and standing full in the screen of the light that +streamed from the lens of the projector, the spectators saw that Sir +William Gouldesbrough was standing. They caught a glimpse of his face. +It was a face like the face of a dead man. His arms were whirling in the +air like mills, and then as a cry died away in mournful echoes in the +high roof of the laboratory, there was a dead sound as the figure of the +scientist disappeared and fell out of the circle of light upon the +floor. + +Upon the screen itself there came a picture. It was the picture of a +girl, but of a girl with a face so sweetly tender and compassionate, so +irradiated with utter confidence and trust, so pained and yet so tender, +that no painter had ever put so wonderful a thing on canvas, and no +Madonna in the galleries of the world was more beautiful or more kind. + +And the face was one that they all knew well and recognized in a moment. +It was the face of one of them, the face of Marjorie Poole, and it was +so beautiful because it was painted by an artist whose pictures have +never before appealed so poignantly to human eyes--it was painted by +despairing Love itself. + +At that marvellous sight, a sight which none of those present ever +forgot in after life, a strange cry went up into the high-domed roof. It +was a cry uttered by many voices and in many keys. There was a gasp of +excitement and of fear, shrill women's tones, the guttural of the +Teuton, the bass of the startled Englishmen, the high, staccato cry of +the Latin, as the French savants joined in it. + +But in whatever key the exclamations were pitched, they all blended into +something like a wail, a composite, multiple thing, the wail of a +company of people who had seen something behind the Veil for the first +time in their lives. + +The picture glowed and looked out at them in all its ineffable +tenderness and glory, and then grew dim, trembled, dissolved, and melted +away. + +Then upon the screen came words, terrible, poignant words-- + + "MARJORIE, MARJORIE DEAR, I KNOW THAT YOU ARE NEAR ME, NOW IN BODY + AS YOU ARE ALWAYS NEAR ME IN THOUGHTS. I FEEL IT, I KNOW IT, AND + EVEN IN THIS CRUEL PRISON, THIS HOPELESS PRISON, WHERE I AM DYING, + AND SHALL SHORTLY DIE, I KNOW THAT YOU ARE NEAR ME IN BODY, AND IN + THAT SPIRIT YOU ARE ALWAYS MINE AND I AM ALWAYS YOURS. LOVE, IF THE + THOUGHTS THAT THEY ARE ROBBING ME OF, IF THE THOUGHTS THAT FILL MY + MIND, AND WHICH THOSE TWO FIENDS ARE PROBABLY LOOKING AT AND + LAUGHING OVER, HAVE ANY POWER AT ALL, THEN I SEND THEM TO YOU WITH + MY LAST EFFORT, IN ONE LAST ATTEMPT TO REACH YOU AND TO SAY THAT I + LOVE YOU AND TO SAY GOOD-BYE." + +The circle of white light grew dimmer. Faint, eddying spirals of +something that seemed like smoke rose up and obscured the words. They +saw an ashen vapour of grey creep over the circle, as the shadow of the +moon creeps over the sun at an eclipse. Then the circle disappeared +finally, and they were left once more in the dark. + +In the dark, indeed, but not in silence. A tumult of agonized voices +filled the laboratory. And over them all a brave voice beat in upon the +sound with the strong and regular assurance of a great bell, a bell like +the mighty mass of metal which hangs in the ancient belfry of Bruges. + +Lord Malvin was calling to them to be calm and silent, was telling them +that he knew what all this meant and that they must be of courage and +good cheer. + +Then some one struck a match. It was Lord Landsend, his face very white +and serious. He held it up above his head and called to Lord Malvin. + +"Here you are, Sir," he said. "I will get down to you in a second. Then +we can find the switch to turn on the electric light." + +He stumbled down to where Lord Malvin sat,--showing the value of the +practical man and polo player in a crisis--and together the two peers, +the famous and honoured scientist and the wealthy young man whom the +world flattered and called _dilettante_ and a fool, went their way to +the switch-table in the guiding light of this small torch. + +Suddenly a blaze of light dispelled the darkness and showed a company of +ghosts looking at each other with weeping faces. + +It showed also the figure of a girl sunk upon its chair in a deadly +swoon. And it showed also the body of Sir William Gouldesbrough lying +upon the floor between the series of machines and the screen upon the +opposite wall. The dead face was so horrible that some one ran up +immediately and covered it with a handkerchief. + +This was Lord Landsend. + +The tumult was indescribable, but by sheer power of authority and wisdom +Lord Malvin calmed them all. His hand was raised as the hand of a +conductor holds the vehemence of a band in check. + +In a few short trenchant sentences he told them the history of the +strange occurrence which Donald Megbie and Mrs. Poole had brought to his +notice; and even as he told them, Sir Harold Oliver and Lady Poole were +bringing back the unconscious girl to life and realization. + +"The man is here," Lord Malvin said, "the man is here. Guy Rathbone lies +dying and prisoned in this accursed house. Sir Harold Oliver, I will ask +you to remain with these ladies while I will go forth and solve this +horrid mystery." + +He looked round with a weary, questioning eye, seeking who should be his +companion, and as he did so young Lord Landsend touched him on the arm +and smiled. + +"Come, my dear boy," the old man said with a melancholy smile of +kindness, "you are just the man I want; come with me." + +Then, before he left the laboratory, he spoke a few rapid words in +French to one or two of the foreign scientists. + +Upon that, these gentlemen went down among the strange and fantastic +apparatus upon the tables and lifted up That which but a few minutes ago +had held the soul and the personality of Sir William Gouldesbrough. They +carried the long, limp, terrible dead Thing to the other end of the +room, where there was a screen. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +TWO FINAL PICTURES + + +There are two things to record-- + +(1) + +His hair was quite grey, his face was old and lined. His body was +beginning to be ravaged by the devilish drugs with which it had been +inoculated. + +But he lay upon a couch in the study, and Marjorie bent over him kissing +him, calling to him and cooing inarticulate words of belief and of love. + +Lady Poole was there also, motionless and silent, while Lord Malvin and +the doctor, who had been hastily summoned from Baker Street, watched by +the head of the couch. + +The doctor looked at Lord Malvin and nodded his head. + +"He will be all right," he whispered. "Those devils have not killed him +yet. He will live and be as strong as ever." + +The tears were rolling down Lord Malvin's face and he could not speak, +but he nodded back to the doctor. + +And then they saw the face of Guy Rathbone, who lay there so broken and +destroyed, begin to change. The gashes, which supreme and long-continued +agony had cut into it, had not indeed passed away. The ashen visage +remained ashen still, but a new light came flickering into the tired +eyes, and in an indescribable way youth was returning. + +Youth was returning, youth! + +It came back, summoned out of the past by a supreme magic--the supreme +magic of love. + +The girl who loved him was kissing him, he was with her at last, and all +was well. + + * * * * * + +(2) + +"It is a grave thing and much considered to be," said Herr Schmoulder. + +It was late at night. + +They had taken Wilson Guest to the hospital, where the doctors were +holding him down, as he shrieked and laughed, and died in delirium +tremens. + +Lord Malvin, Sir Harold Oliver, and the other scientists were gathered +together in the laboratory, that recent theatre of such terrible events. + +"It is a very grave thing indeed, Herr Schmoulder," Lord Malvin +answered; "but I have not ventured to propose it without a consultation +in the highest quarters. Decies will be here at any moment, and then +upon his decision we shall act. He has been to see the King." + +The distinguished men waited there silent and uneasy. All round them +stood the marvellous instruments by which the late Sir William +Gouldesbrough had obtained a triumph unknown before in the history of +the world. + +The yellow radiance of the electric light poured down upon the gleaming +mahogany, brass, vulcanite and steel. + +On the opposite wall was the great white screen--just an ordinary +stretch of prepared canvas upon steel rollers, a dead, senseless thing, +and no more than that. Yet as the least imaginative of them there +chanced to turn his head and see that great white sheet, he shuddered to +think of the long agony it had pictured while the two monsters had sat +and taken their amusement from it, as a man takes a glass of wine. + +There was a rap upon the principal door of the laboratory. Lord Malvin +strode to it and opened it. The butler, a portly man on the morning of +this day, but now seeming to have shrunk into his clothes, and to have +lost much of his vitality, stood there. + +Beside him was a gentleman in evening dress, with a keen clean-shaven +face and grey hair which curled. + +The gentleman stepped quickly into the laboratory. It was the Home +Secretary. + +He shook Lord Malvin by the hand, and his face was very troubled. + +"You are quite right, my Lord," he said. "I may say that His Majesty is +at one with you and with me in this matter. His Majesty is much +disturbed." + +Then Lord Malvin turned round to the other gentlemen. + +"Come, my brethren," he said in a sad voice, "come and let us do what we +have to do. The Bishop of West London was wiser than any of us when he +said that God would never allow this thing to continue, and he was +right." + +Lord Malvin turned to the frightened servant. + +"Go into the kitchens," he said, "or send one of the other men, and +fetch a large hammer, such a hammer as you use for breaking up coal." + +In a minute or two the butler returned, and handed a formidable +implement with a wedge-shaped iron head on a long ash shank to Lord +Malvin. + +The Home Secretary stood by, and the great men of science clustered +round him, watching Lord Malvin's actions. + +The peer went to the silent, soulless machines, which had been the +medium through which such wonder and terror had passed, and raising the +hammer about his head, he destroyed each one severally, with a sort of +ritual, as some priest carries out the ritual of his Faith. + +This old man, whose name and personality stood so high, so supreme +indeed, in the modern world, was like some ancient prophet of the Lord, +who, fired with holy zeal, strode down the pagan avenues of the ancient +world and tore and beat the false idols from their pedestals in the +frenzy of one who kills and destroys that truth may enter and the world +be calm. + +It was done, over. The politician shook hands with Lord Malvin, and +resumed his dry, official manner, perhaps a little ashamed or frightened +at the emotion which he had exhibited. + +"Good-bye, Lord Malvin," he said. "This terrible business is now over. I +have to return to the palace to tell His Majesty that this--this +_devilish_ invention is destroyed. Good-night, good-night." + +Then a tall man with a pointed beard came into the laboratory, saluting +the Home Secretary as he was leaving, with several of the other +scientists who had witnessed the whole thing from first to last and now +felt that they must go home. + +The man with the beard was the man who had been sent from Scotland Yard. + +He walked up to Lord Malvin and saluted. + +"I think, my Lord," he said, "that everything requisite has now been +done. I have all the servants in my charge, and we have fifteen or +twenty men in the house, seeing that nothing is disturbed until official +inquiry is due." + +By this time nobody was left in the laboratory but the detective +inspector, Lord Malvin, and Herr Schmoulder. + +"Oh! and there is one other thing, my Lord, I have to ask you. Mr. +Donald Megbie, the writing gentleman is here, and begs that he may be +allowed to see you. Should I be right in admitting the gentleman?" + +"Certainly, certainly," Lord Malvin replied. "Bring him in at once, +please inspector." + +In less than a minute a plain-clothes policeman ushered Donald Megbie +into the laboratory. + +He went up to Lord Malvin, and his face was bright and happy. + +"It is all right, my Lord," he said, "Rathbone is recovering swiftly. +Miss Poole is with him, and the doctors say, that though they feared for +a short time that his reason would go, they are now quite satisfied that +he will recover. He is sleeping quietly in a private room at Marylebone +Hospital, and Marjorie Poole is sitting by his side holding his hand." + +Then Megbie looked at the wreck upon the floor. + +"Ah!" he said, "so you have destroyed this horrid thing?" + +"Yes," Lord Malvin answered; "I discussed it with Decies, and Decies +went to see the King. It was thought to be better and wiser for the +safety of the commonwealth--for the safety of the world indeed--that Sir +William Gouldesbrough's discovery should perish with Sir William +Gouldesbrough." + +"Ah!" Donald Megbie answered; "I felt sure that that was the best +course. It would have been too terrible, too subversive. The world must +go on as it has always gone on. I have thought, during the last few +hours, that Sir William Gouldesbrough was not himself at all. Is it not +possible that he himself might have died long ago, and that _something_ +was inhabiting his body, something which came out of the darkness behind +the Veil?" + +"That, Mr. Megbie," said Lord Malvin, "is the picturesque thought of the +literary man. Science does not allow the possibility of such sinister +interferences. And now, I am going home. You will realize, of course, +that your supreme services in this matter will be recognized, though I +fear that the recognition can never be acknowledged publicly." + +Donald Megbie bowed. + +"My Lord," he said, "they have been recognized already, because I have +seen how love has called back a soul into life. I have seen Marjorie +Poole sitting by the bedside of Guy Rathbone. And, do you know, Lord +Malvin," he continued in a less exalted tone, "I never wish to see +anything in my life here more utterly beautiful than that." + +"Come," said Lord Malvin, "it is very late; we are all tired and +unstrung." + +The two men, arm in arm, the young writer and the great man, moved +towards the door of the laboratory. + +The detective inspector stood watching the scene with quiet and +observant eyes. + +But Herr Schmoulder surveyed the wreckage of the Thought-Spectroscope, +and as he turned at length to follow Lord Malvin and Donald Megbie, he +heaved a deep Teutonic sigh. + +"It was der most wonderful triumph that ever der unknown forces occurred +has been," he muttered. + +Then the three men crossed the vast, sombre hall, now filled with +frightened servants and the stiff official guardians of the law, and +went out through the path among the laurel bushes to the gate in the +wall, where their carriages were waiting. + +And Donald Megbie, as he drove home through the silent streets of the +West End, heard a tune in his heart, which responded and lilted to the +regular beat of the horse's feet upon the macadam. And the burden of the +tune was "_Love_." + + +_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and Bungay._ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Soul Stealer, by +Cyril Arthur Edward Ranger Gull + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40520 *** |