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diff --git a/42989-8.txt b/42989-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 26f4275..0000000 --- a/42989-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8699 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Plattner Story and Others, by H. G. Wells - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Plattner Story and Others - -Author: H. G. Wells - -Release Date: June 20, 2013 [EBook #42989] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLATTNER STORY AND OTHERS *** - - - - -Produced by eagkw, Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - THE - PLATTNER STORY - - AND OTHERS - - - - - BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - - THE STOLEN BACILLUS - THE WONDERFUL VISIT - THE WHEELS OF CHANCE - THE ISLAND OF DOCTOR MOREAU - THE TIME MACHINE - - - - - THE - PLATTNER STORY - - AND OTHERS - - BY - H. G. WELLS - - METHUEN & CO. - 36 ESSEX STREET, W.C. - LONDON - 1897 - - - - - TO - MY FATHER - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - THE PLATTNER STORY 2 - THE ARGONAUTS OF THE AIR 29 - THE STORY OF THE LATE MR. ELVESHAM 47 - IN THE ABYSS 71 - THE APPLE 94 - UNDER THE KNIFE 106 - THE SEA-RAIDERS 126 - POLLOCK AND THE PORROH MAN 142 - THE RED ROOM 165 - THE CONE 179 - THE PURPLE PILEUS 196 - THE JILTING OF JANE 213 - IN THE MODERN VEIN 224 - A CATASTROPHE 239 - THE LOST INHERITANCE 252 - THE SAD STORY OF A DRAMATIC CRITIC 262 - A SLIP UNDER THE MICROSCOPE 274 - - - - -THE PLATTNER STORY - - -Whether the story of Gottfried Plattner is to be credited or not, is -a pretty question in the value of evidence. On the one hand, we have -seven witnesses--to be perfectly exact, we have six and a half pairs -of eyes, and one undeniable fact; and on the other we have--what is -it?--prejudice, common sense, the inertia of opinion. Never were there -seven more honest-seeming witnesses; never was there a more undeniable -fact than the inversion of Gottfried Plattner's anatomical structure, -and--never was there a more preposterous story than the one they -have to tell! The most preposterous part of the story is the worthy -Gottfried's contribution (for I count him as one of the seven). Heaven -forbid that I should be led into giving countenance to superstition by -a passion for impartiality, and so come to share the fate of Eusapia's -patrons! Frankly, I believe there is something crooked about this -business of Gottfried Plattner; but what that crooked factor is, I -will admit as frankly, I do not know. I have been surprised at the -credit accorded to the story in the most unexpected and authoritative -quarters. The fairest way to the reader, however, will be for me to -tell it without further comment. - -Gottfried Plattner is, in spite of his name, a free-born Englishman. -His father was an Alsatian who came to England in the Sixties, married -a respectable English girl of unexceptionable antecedents, and died, -after a wholesome and uneventful life (devoted, I understand, chiefly -to the laying of parquet flooring), in 1887. Gottfried's age is -seven-and-twenty. He is, by virtue of his heritage of three languages, -Modern Languages Master in a small private school in the South of -England. To the casual observer he is singularly like any other Modern -Languages Master in any other small private school. His costume is -neither very costly nor very fashionable, but, on the other hand, it -is not markedly cheap or shabby; his complexion, like his height and -his bearing, is inconspicuous. You would notice, perhaps, that, like -the majority of people, his face was not absolutely symmetrical, his -right eye a little larger than the left, and his jaw a trifle heavier -on the right side. If you, as an ordinary careless person, were to bare -his chest and feel his heart beating, you would probably find it quite -like the heart of anyone else. But here you and the trained observer -would part company. If you found his heart quite ordinary, the trained -observer would find it quite otherwise. And once the thing was pointed -out to you, you too would perceive the peculiarity easily enough. It is -that Gottfried's heart beats on the right side of his body. - -Now, that is not the only singularity of Gottfried's structure, -although it is the only one that would appeal to the untrained mind. -Careful sounding of Gottfried's internal arrangements, by a well-known -surgeon, seems to point to the fact that all the other unsymmetrical -parts of his body are similarly misplaced. The right lobe of his liver -is on the left side, the left on his right; while his lungs, too, are -similarly contraposed. What is still more singular, unless Gottfried is -a consummate actor, we must believe that his right hand has recently -become his left. Since the occurrences we are about to consider (as -impartially as possible), he has found the utmost difficulty in -writing, except from right to left across the paper with his left hand. -He cannot throw with his right hand, he is perplexed at meal times -between knife and fork, and his ideas of the rule of the road--he is -a cyclist--are still a dangerous confusion. And there is not a scrap -of evidence to show that before these occurrences Gottfried was at all -left-handed. - -There is yet another wonderful fact in this preposterous business. -Gottfried produces three photographs of himself. You have him at the -age of five or six, thrusting fat legs at you from under a plaid frock, -and scowling. In that photograph his left eye is a little larger than -his right, and his jaw is a trifle heavier on the left side. This -is the reverse of his present living conditions. The photograph of -Gottfried at fourteen seems to contradict these facts, but that is -because it is one of those cheap "Gem" photographs that were then in -vogue, taken direct upon metal, and therefore reversing things just -as a looking-glass would. The third photograph represents him at -one-and-twenty, and confirms the record of the others. There seems here -evidence of the strongest confirmatory character that Gottfried has -exchanged his left side for his right. Yet how a human being can be so -changed, short of a fantastic and pointless miracle, it is exceedingly -hard to suggest. - -In one way, of course, these facts might be explicable on the -supposition that Plattner has undertaken an elaborate mystification, -on the strength of his heart's displacement. Photographs may be -fudged, and left-handedness imitated. But the character of the man -does not lend itself to any such theory. He is quiet, practical, -unobtrusive, and thoroughly sane, from the Nordau standpoint. He -likes beer, and smokes moderately, takes walking exercise daily, and -has a healthily high estimate of the value of his teaching. He has a -good but untrained tenor voice, and takes a pleasure in singing airs -of a popular and cheerful character. He is fond, but not morbidly -fond, of reading,--chiefly fiction pervaded with a vaguely pious -optimism,--sleeps well, and rarely dreams. He is, in fact, the very -last person to evolve a fantastic fable. Indeed, so far from forcing -this story upon the world, he has been singularly reticent on the -matter. He meets inquirers with a certain engaging--bashfulness is -almost the word, that disarms the most suspicious. He seems genuinely -ashamed that anything so unusual has occurred to him. - -It is to be regretted that Plattner's aversion to the idea of -post-mortem dissection may postpone, perhaps for ever, the positive -proof that his entire body has had its left and right sides -transposed. Upon that fact mainly the credibility of his story hangs. -There is no way of taking a man and moving him about _in space_, as -ordinary people understand space, that will result in our changing -his sides. Whatever you do, his right is still his right, his left -his left. You can do that with a perfectly thin and flat thing, of -course. If you were to cut a figure out of paper, any figure with a -right and left side, you could change its sides simply by lifting it -up and turning it over. But with a solid it is different. Mathematical -theorists tell us that the only way in which the right and left sides -of a solid body can be changed is by taking that body clean out of -space as we know it,--taking it out of ordinary existence, that is, -and turning it somewhere outside space. This is a little abstruse, -no doubt, but anyone with any knowledge of mathematical theory will -assure the reader of its truth. To put the thing in technical language, -the curious inversion of Plattner's right and left sides is proof -that he has moved out of our space into what is called the Fourth -Dimension, and that he has returned again to our world. Unless we -choose to consider ourselves the victims of an elaborate and motiveless -fabrication, we are almost bound to believe that this has occurred. - -So much for the tangible facts. We come now to the account of the -phenomena that attended his temporary disappearance from the world. -It appears that in the Sussexville Proprietary School, Plattner not -only discharged the duties of Modern Languages Master, but also taught -chemistry, commercial geography, book-keeping, shorthand, drawing, and -any other additional subject to which the changing fancies of the -boys' parents might direct attention. He knew little or nothing of -these various subjects, but in secondary as distinguished from Board -or elementary schools, knowledge in the teacher is, very properly, by -no means so necessary as high moral character and gentlemanly tone. -In chemistry he was particularly deficient, knowing, he says, nothing -beyond the Three Gases (whatever the three gases may be). As, however, -his pupils began by knowing nothing, and derived all their information -from him, this caused him (or anyone) but little inconvenience for -several terms. Then a little boy named Whibble joined the school, who -had been educated (it seems) by some mischievous relative into an -inquiring habit of mind. This little boy followed Plattner's lessons -with marked and sustained interest, and in order to exhibit his zeal -on the subject, brought, at various times, substances for Plattner to -analyse. Plattner, flattered by this evidence of his power of awakening -interest, and trusting to the boy's ignorance, analysed these, and even -made general statements as to their composition. Indeed, he was so far -stimulated by his pupil as to obtain a work upon analytical chemistry, -and study it during his supervision of the evening's preparation. He -was surprised to find chemistry quite an interesting subject. - -So far the story is absolutely commonplace. But now the greenish -powder comes upon the scene. The source of that greenish powder seems, -unfortunately, lost. Master Whibble tells a tortuous story of finding -it done up in a packet in a disused limekiln near the Downs. It would -have been an excellent thing for Plattner, and possibly for Master -Whibble's family, if a match could have been applied to that powder -there and then. The young gentleman certainly did not bring it to -school in a packet, but in a common eight-ounce graduated medicine -bottle, plugged with masticated newspaper. He gave it to Plattner at -the end of the afternoon school. Four boys had been detained after -school prayers in order to complete some neglected tasks, and Plattner -was supervising these in the small classroom in which the chemical -teaching was conducted. The appliances for the practical teaching of -chemistry in the Sussexville Proprietary School, as in most small -schools in this country, are characterised by a severe simplicity. They -are kept in a small cupboard standing in a recess, and having about the -same capacity as a common travelling trunk. Plattner, being bored with -his passive superintendence, seems to have welcomed the intervention of -Whibble with his green powder as an agreeable diversion, and, unlocking -this cupboard, proceeded at once with his analytical experiments. -Whibble sat, luckily for himself, at a safe distance, regarding him. -The four malefactors, feigning a profound absorption in their work, -watched him furtively with the keenest interest. For even within the -limits of the Three Gases, Plattner's practical chemistry was, I -understand, temerarious. - -They are practically unanimous in their account of Plattner's -proceedings. He poured a little of the green powder into a test-tube, -and tried the substance with water, hydrochloric acid, nitric acid, -and sulphuric acid in succession. Getting no result, he emptied out a -little heap--nearly half the bottleful, in fact--upon a slate and tried -a match. He held the medicine bottle in his left hand. The stuff began -to smoke and melt, and then--exploded with deafening violence and a -blinding flash. - -The five boys, seeing the flash and being prepared for catastrophes, -ducked below their desks, and were none of them seriously hurt. The -window was blown out into the playground, and the blackboard on its -easel was upset. The slate was smashed to atoms. Some plaster fell -from the ceiling. No other damage was done to the school edifice or -appliances, and the boys at first, seeing nothing of Plattner, fancied -he was knocked down and lying out of their sight below the desks. They -jumped out of their places to go to his assistance, and were amazed to -find the space empty. Being still confused by the sudden violence of -the report, they hurried to the open door, under the impression that -he must have been hurt, and have rushed out of the room. But Carson, -the foremost, nearly collided in the doorway with the principal, Mr. -Lidgett. - -Mr. Lidgett is a corpulent, excitable man with one eye. The boys -describe him as stumbling into the room mouthing some of those tempered -expletives irritable schoolmasters accustom themselves to use--lest -worse befall. "Wretched mumchancer!" he said. "Where's Mr. Plattner?" -The boys are agreed on the very words. ("Wobbler," "snivelling puppy," -and "mumchancer" are, it seems, among the ordinary small change of Mr. -Lidgett's scholastic commerce.) - -Where's Mr. Plattner? That was a question that was to be repeated many -times in the next few days. It really seemed as though that frantic -hyperbole, "blown to atoms," had for once realised itself. There was -not a visible particle of Plattner to be seen; not a drop of blood nor -a stitch of clothing to be found. Apparently he had been blown clean -out of existence and left not a wrack behind. Not so much as would -cover a sixpenny piece, to quote a proverbial expression! The evidence -of his absolute disappearance, as a consequence of that explosion, is -indubitable. - -It is not necessary to enlarge here upon the commotion excited in the -Sussexville Proprietary School, and in Sussexville and elsewhere, by -this event. It is quite possible, indeed, that some of the readers of -these pages may recall the hearing of some remote and dying version -of that excitement during the last summer holidays. Lidgett, it would -seem, did everything in his power to suppress and minimise the story. -He instituted a penalty of twenty-five lines for any mention of -Plattner's name among the boys, and stated in the schoolroom that he -was clearly aware of his assistant's whereabouts. He was afraid, he -explains, that the possibility of an explosion happening, in spite of -the elaborate precautions taken to minimise the practical teaching of -chemistry, might injure the reputation of the school; and so might any -mysterious quality in Plattner's departure. Indeed, he did everything -in his power to make the occurrence seem as ordinary as possible. In -particular, he cross-examined the five eye-witnesses of the occurrence -so searchingly that they began to doubt the plain evidence of their -senses. But, in spite of these efforts, the tale, in a magnified -and distorted state, made a nine days' wonder in the district, and -several parents withdrew their sons on colourable pretexts. Not the -least remarkable point in the matter is the fact that a large number -of people in the neighbourhood dreamed singularly vivid dreams of -Plattner during the period of excitement before his return, and that -these dreams had a curious uniformity. In almost all of them Plattner -was seen, sometimes singly, sometimes in company, wandering about -through a coruscating iridescence. In all cases his face was pale and -distressed, and in some he gesticulated towards the dreamer. One or -two of the boys, evidently under the influence of nightmare, fancied -that Plattner approached them with remarkable swiftness, and seemed to -look closely into their very eyes. Others fled with Plattner from the -pursuit of vague and extraordinary creatures of a globular shape. But -all these fancies were forgotten in inquiries and speculations when, on -the Wednesday next but one after the Monday of the explosion, Plattner -returned. - -The circumstances of his return were as singular as those of his -departure. So far as Mr. Lidgett's somewhat choleric outline can be -filled in from Plattner's hesitating statements, it would appear that -on Wednesday evening, towards the hour of sunset, the former gentleman, -having dismissed evening preparation, was engaged in his garden, -picking and eating strawberries, a fruit of which he is inordinately -fond. It is a large old-fashioned garden, secured from observation, -fortunately, by a high and ivy-covered red-brick wall. Just as he was -stooping over a particularly prolific plant, there was a flash in the -air and a heavy thud, and before he could look round, some heavy body -struck him violently from behind. He was pitched forward, crushing the -strawberries he held in his hand, and that so roughly, that his silk -hat--Mr. Lidgett adheres to the older ideas of scholastic costume--was -driven violently down upon his forehead, and almost over one eye. -This heavy missile, which slid over him sideways and collapsed into a -sitting posture among the strawberry plants, proved to be our long-lost -Mr. Gottfried Plattner, in an extremely dishevelled condition. He -was collarless and hatless, his linen was dirty, and there was blood -upon his hands. Mr. Lidgett was so indignant and surprised that he -remained on all-fours, and with his hat jammed down on his eye, while -he expostulated vehemently with Plattner for his disrespectful and -unaccountable conduct. - -This scarcely idyllic scene completes what I may call the exterior -version of the Plattner story--its exoteric aspect. It is quite -unnecessary to enter here into all the details of his dismissal by Mr. -Lidgett. Such details, with the full names and dates and references, -will be found in the larger report of these occurrences that was laid -before the Society for the Investigation of Abnormal Phenomena. The -singular transposition of Plattner's right and left sides was scarcely -observed for the first day or so, and then first in connection with -his disposition to write from right to left across the blackboard. He -concealed rather than ostended this curious confirmatory circumstance, -as he considered it would unfavourably affect his prospects in a new -situation. The displacement of his heart was discovered some months -after, when he was having a tooth extracted under anęsthetics. He then, -very unwillingly, allowed a cursory surgical examination to be made of -himself, with a view to a brief account in the _Journal of Anatomy_. -That exhausts the statement of the material facts; and we may now go on -to consider Plattner's account of the matter. - -But first let us clearly differentiate between the preceding portion -of this story and what is to follow. All I have told thus far is -established by such evidence as even a criminal lawyer would approve. -Every one of the witnesses is still alive; the reader, if he have the -leisure, may hunt the lads out tomorrow, or even brave the terrors of -the redoubtable Lidgett, and cross-examine and trap and test to his -heart's content; Gottfried Plattner, himself, and his twisted heart and -his three photographs are producible. It may be taken as proved that he -did disappear for nine days as the consequence of an explosion; that -he returned almost as violently, under circumstances in their nature -annoying to Mr. Lidgett, whatever the details of those circumstances -may be; and that he returned inverted, just as a reflection returns -from a mirror. From the last fact, as I have already stated, it -follows almost inevitably that Plattner, during those nine days, must -have been in some state of existence altogether out of space. The -evidence to these statements is, indeed, far stronger than that upon -which most murderers are hanged. But for his own particular account -of where he had been, with its confused explanations and well-nigh -self-contradictory details, we have only Mr. Gottfried Plattner's word. -I do not wish to discredit that, but I must point out--what so many -writers upon obscure psychic phenomena fail to do--that we are passing -here from the practically undeniable to that kind of matter which any -reasonable man is entitled to believe or reject as he thinks proper. -The previous statements render it plausible; its discordance with -common experience tilts it towards the incredible. I would prefer not -to sway the beam of the reader's judgment either way, but simply to -tell the story as Plattner told it me. - -He gave me his narrative, I may state, at my house at Chislehurst, and -so soon as he had left me that evening, I went into my study and wrote -down everything as I remembered it. Subsequently he was good enough to -read over a type-written copy, so that its substantial correctness is -undeniable. - -He states that at the moment of the explosion he distinctly thought he -was killed. He felt lifted off his feet and driven forcibly backward. -It is a curious fact for psychologists that he thought clearly during -his backward flight, and wondered whether he should hit the chemistry -cupboard or the blackboard easel. His heels struck ground, and he -staggered and fell heavily into a sitting position on something soft -and firm. For a moment the concussion stunned him. He became aware at -once of a vivid scent of singed hair, and he seemed to hear the voice -of Lidgett asking for him. You will understand that for a time his -mind was greatly confused. - -At first he was distinctly under the impression that he was still in -the classroom. He perceived quite distinctly the surprise of the boys -and the entry of Mr. Lidgett. He is quite positive upon that score. -He did not hear their remarks; but that he ascribed to the deafening -effect of the experiment. Things about him seemed curiously dark and -faint, but his mind explained that on the obvious but mistaken idea -that the explosion had engendered a huge volume of dark smoke. Through -the dimness the figures of Lidgett and the boys moved, as faint and -silent as ghosts. Plattner's face still tingled with the stinging -heat of the flash. He was, he says, "all muddled." His first definite -thoughts seem to have been of his personal safety. He thought he was -perhaps blinded and deafened. He felt his limbs and face in a gingerly -manner. Then his perceptions grew clearer, and he was astonished to -miss the old familiar desks and other schoolroom furniture about him. -Only dim, uncertain, grey shapes stood in the place of these. Then came -a thing that made him shout aloud, and awoke his stunned faculties -to instant activity. _Two of the boys, gesticulating, walked one -after the other clean through him!_ Neither manifested the slightest -consciousness of his presence. It is difficult to imagine the sensation -he felt. They came against him, he says, with no more force than a wisp -of mist. - -Plattner's first thought after that was that he was dead. Having been -brought up with thoroughly sound views in these matters, however, he -was a little surprised to find his body still about him. His second -conclusion was that he was not dead, but that the others were: that the -explosion had destroyed the Sussexville Proprietary School and every -soul in it except himself. But that, too, was scarcely satisfactory. He -was thrown back upon astonished observation. - -Everything about him was extraordinarily dark: at first it seemed to -have an altogether ebony blackness. Overhead was a black firmament. -The only touch of light in the scene was a faint greenish glow at the -edge of the sky in one direction, which threw into prominence a horizon -of undulating black hills. This, I say, was his impression at first. -As his eye grew accustomed to the darkness, he began to distinguish a -faint quality of differentiating greenish colour in the circumambient -night. Against this background the furniture and occupants of the -classroom, it seems, stood out like phosphorescent spectres, faint -and impalpable. He extended his hand, and thrust it without an effort -through the wall of the room by the fireplace. - -He describes himself as making a strenuous effort to attract attention. -He shouted to Lidgett, and tried to seize the boys as they went to -and fro. He only desisted from these attempts when Mrs. Lidgett, whom -he (as an Assistant Master) naturally disliked, entered the room. He -says the sensation of being in the world, and yet not a part of it, -was an extraordinarily disagreeable one. He compared his feelings, -not inaptly, to those of a cat watching a mouse through a window. -Whenever he made a motion to communicate with the dim, familiar world -about him, he found an invisible, incomprehensible barrier preventing -intercourse. - -He then turned his attention to his solid environment. He found the -medicine bottle still unbroken in his hand, with the remainder of the -green powder therein. He put this in his pocket, and began to feel -about him. Apparently, he was sitting on a boulder of rock covered with -a velvety moss. The dark country about him he was unable to see, the -faint, misty picture of the schoolroom blotting it out, but he had a -feeling (due perhaps to a cold wind) that he was near the crest of a -hill, and that a steep valley fell away beneath his feet. The green -glow along the edge of the sky seemed to be growing in extent and -intensity. He stood up, rubbing his eyes. - -It would seem that he made a few steps, going steeply down hill, and -then stumbled, nearly fell, and sat down again upon a jagged mass of -rock to watch the dawn. He became aware that the world about him was -absolutely silent. It was as still as it was dark, and though there was -a cold wind blowing up the hill-face, the rustle of grass, the soughing -of the boughs that should have accompanied it, were absent. He could -hear, therefore, if he could not see, that the hillside upon which he -stood was rocky and desolate. The green grew brighter every moment, and -as it did so a faint, transparent blood-red mingled with, but did not -mitigate, the blackness of the sky overhead and the rocky desolations -about him. Having regard to what follows, I am inclined to think that -that redness may have been an optical effect due to contrast. Something -black fluttered momentarily against the livid yellow-green of the -lower sky, and then the thin and penetrating voice of a bell rose out -of the black gulf below him. An oppressive expectation grew with the -growing light. - -It is probable that an hour or more elapsed while he sat there, the -strange green light growing brighter every moment, and spreading -slowly, in flamboyant fingers, upward towards the zenith. As it grew, -the spectral vision of _our_ world became relatively or absolutely -fainter. Probably both, for the time must have been about that of our -earthly sunset. So far as his vision of our world went, Plattner, by -his few steps downhill, had passed through the floor of the classroom, -and was now, it seemed, sitting in mid-air in the larger schoolroom -downstairs. He saw the boarders distinctly, but much more faintly -than he had seen Lidgett. They were preparing their evening tasks, -and he noticed with interest that several were cheating with their -Euclid riders by means of a crib, a compilation whose existence he had -hitherto never suspected. As the time passed, they faded steadily, as -steadily as the light of the green dawn increased. - -Looking down into the valley, he saw that the light had crept far -down its rocky sides, and that the profound blackness of the abyss -was now broken by a minute green glow, like the light of a glow-worm. -And almost immediately the limb of a huge heavenly body of blazing -green rose over the basaltic undulations of the distant hills, and -the monstrous hill-masses about him came out gaunt and desolate, in -green light and deep, ruddy black shadows. He became aware of a vast -number of ball-shaped objects drifting as thistledown drifts over -the high ground. There were none of these nearer to him than the -opposite side of the gorge. The bell below twanged quicker and quicker, -with something like impatient insistence, and several lights moved -hither and thither. The boys at work at their desks were now almost -imperceptibly faint. - -This extinction of our world, when the green sun of this other universe -rose, is a curious point upon which Plattner insists. During the -Other-World night it is difficult to move about, on account of the -vividness with which the things of this world are visible. It becomes a -riddle to explain why, if this is the case, we in this world catch no -glimpse of the Other-World. It is due, perhaps, to the comparatively -vivid illumination of this world of ours. Plattner describes the -midday of the Other-World, at its brightest, as not being nearly so -bright as this world at full moon, while its night is profoundly -black. Consequently, the amount of light, even in an ordinary dark -room, is sufficient to render the things of the Other-World invisible, -on the same principle that faint phosphorescence is only visible in -the profoundest darkness. I have tried, since he told me his story, -to see something of the Other-World by sitting for a long space in a -photographer's dark room at night. I have certainly seen indistinctly -the form of greenish slopes and rocks, but only, I must admit, very -indistinctly indeed. The reader may possibly be more successful. -Plattner tells me that since his return he has dreamt and seen and -recognised places in the Other-World, but this is probably due to his -memory of these scenes. It seems quite possible that people with -unusually keen eyesight may occasionally catch a glimpse of this -strange Other-World about us. - -However, this is a digression. As the green sun rose, a long street -of black buildings became perceptible, though only darkly and -indistinctly, in the gorge, and, after some hesitation, Plattner began -to clamber down the precipitous descent towards them. The descent was -long and exceedingly tedious, being so not only by the extraordinary -steepness, but also by reason of the looseness of the boulders -with which the whole face of the hill was strewn. The noise of his -descent--now and then his heels struck fire from the rocks--seemed -now the only sound in the universe, for the beating of the bell had -ceased. As he drew nearer, he perceived that the various edifices had -a singular resemblance to tombs and mausoleums and monuments, saving -only that they were all uniformly black instead of being white, as -most sepulchres are. And then he saw, crowding out of the largest -building, very much as people disperse from church, a number of pallid, -rounded, pale-green figures. These dispersed in several directions -about the broad street of the place, some going through side alleys and -reappearing upon the steepness of the hill, others entering some of the -small black buildings which lined the way. - -At the sight of these things drifting up towards him, Plattner stopped, -staring. They were not walking, they were indeed limbless, and they -had the appearance of human heads, beneath which a tadpole-like body -swung. He was too astonished at their strangeness, too full, indeed, -of strangeness, to be seriously alarmed by them. They drove towards -him, in front of the chill wind that was blowing uphill, much as -soap-bubbles drive before a draught. And as he looked at the nearest -of those approaching, he saw it was indeed a human head, albeit with -singularly large eyes, and wearing such an expression of distress and -anguish as he had never seen before upon mortal countenance. He was -surprised to find that it did not turn to regard him, but seemed to be -watching and following some unseen moving thing. For a moment he was -puzzled, and then it occurred to him that this creature was watching -with its enormous eyes something that was happening in the world he had -just left. Nearer it came, and nearer, and he was too astonished to -cry out. It made a very faint fretting sound as it came close to him. -Then it struck his face with a gentle pat--its touch was very cold--and -drove past him, and upward towards the crest of the hill. - -An extraordinary conviction flashed across Plattner's mind that this -head had a strong likeness to Lidgett. Then he turned his attention -to the other heads that were now swarming thickly up the hillside. -None made the slightest sign of recognition. One or two, indeed, came -close to his head and almost followed the example of the first, but -he dodged convulsively out of the way. Upon most of them he saw the -same expression of unavailing regret he had seen upon the first, and -heard the same faint sounds of wretchedness from them. One or two wept, -and one rolling swiftly uphill wore an expression of diabolical rage. -But others were cold, and several had a look of gratified interest in -their eyes. One, at least, was almost in an ecstasy of happiness. -Plattner does not remember that he recognised any more likenesses in -those he saw at this time. - -For several hours, perhaps, Plattner watched these strange things -dispersing themselves over the hills, and not till long after they -had ceased to issue from the clustering black buildings in the gorge, -did he resume his downward climb. The darkness about him increased so -much that he had a difficulty in stepping true. Overhead the sky was -now a bright, pale green. He felt neither hunger nor thirst. Later, -when he did, he found a chilly stream running down the centre of the -gorge, and the rare moss upon the boulders, when he tried it at last in -desperation, was good to eat. - -He groped about among the tombs that ran down the gorge, seeking -vaguely for some clue to these inexplicable things. After a long -time he came to the entrance of the big mausoleum-like building from -which the heads had issued. In this he found a group of green lights -burning upon a kind of basaltic altar, and a bell-rope from a belfry -overhead hanging down into the centre of the place. Round the wall -ran a lettering of fire in a character unknown to him. While he was -still wondering at the purport of these things, he heard the receding -tramp of heavy feet echoing far down the street. He ran out into the -darkness again, but he could see nothing. He had a mind to pull the -bell-rope, and finally decided to follow the footsteps. But, although -he ran far, he never overtook them; and his shouting was of no avail. -The gorge seemed to extend an interminable distance. It was as dark -as earthly starlight throughout its length, while the ghastly green -day lay along the upper edge of its precipices. There were none of the -heads, now, below. They were all, it seemed, busily occupied along the -upper slopes. Looking up, he saw them drifting hither and thither, some -hovering stationary, some flying swiftly through the air. It reminded -him, he said, of "big snowflakes"; only these were black and pale green. - -In pursuing the firm, undeviating footsteps that he never overtook, in -groping into new regions of this endless devil's dyke, in clambering up -and down the pitiless heights, in wandering about the summits, and in -watching the drifting faces, Plattner states that he spent the better -part of seven or eight days. He did not keep count, he says. Though -once or twice he found eyes watching him, he had word with no living -soul. He slept among the rocks on the hillside. In the gorge things -earthly were invisible, because, from the earthly standpoint, it was -far underground. On the altitudes, so soon as the earthly day began, -the world became visible to him. He found himself sometimes stumbling -over the dark green rocks, or arresting himself on a precipitous brink, -while all about him the green branches of the Sussexville lanes were -swaying; or, again, he seemed to be walking through the Sussexville -streets, or watching unseen the private business of some household. -And then it was he discovered, that to almost every human being in our -world there pertained some of these drifting heads: that everyone in -the world is watched intermittently by these helpless disembodiments. - -What are they--these Watchers of the Living? Plattner never learned. -But two, that presently found and followed him, were like his -childhood's memory of his father and mother. Now and then other faces -turned their eyes upon him: eyes like those of dead people who had -swayed him, or injured him, or helped him in his youth and manhood. -Whenever they looked at him, Plattner was overcome with a strange -sense of responsibility. To his mother he ventured to speak; but she -made no answer. She looked sadly, steadfastly, and tenderly--a little -reproachfully, too, it seemed--into his eyes. - -He simply tells this story: he does not endeavour to explain. We are -left to surmise who these Watchers of the Living may be, or if they are -indeed the Dead, why they should so closely and passionately watch a -world they have left for ever. It may be--indeed to my mind it seems -just--that, when our life has closed, when evil or good is no longer -a choice for us, we may still have to witness the working out of the -train of consequences we have laid. If human souls continue after -death, then surely human interests continue after death. But that is -merely my own guess at the meaning of the things seen. Plattner offers -no interpretation, for none was given him. It is well the reader should -understand this clearly. Day after day, with his head reeling, he -wandered about this strange-lit world outside the world, weary and, -towards the end, weak and hungry. By day--by our earthly day, that -is--the ghostly vision of the old familiar scenery of Sussexville, all -about him, irked and worried him. He could not see where to put his -feet, and ever and again with a chilly touch one of these Watching -Souls would come against his face. And after dark the multitude of -these Watchers about him, and their intent distress, confused his mind -beyond describing. A great longing to return to the earthly life that -was so near and yet so remote consumed him. The unearthliness of things -about him produced a positively painful mental distress. He was worried -beyond describing by his own particular followers. He would shout at -them to desist from staring at him, scold at them, hurry away from -them. They were always mute and intent. Run as he might over the uneven -ground, they followed his destinies. - -On the ninth day, towards evening, Plattner heard the invisible -footsteps approaching, far away down the gorge. He was then wandering -over the broad crest of the same hill upon which he had fallen in his -entry into this strange Other-World of his. He turned to hurry down -into the gorge, feeling his way hastily, and was arrested by the sight -of the thing that was happening in a room in a back street near the -school. Both of the people in the room he knew by sight. The windows -were open, the blinds up, and the setting sun shone clearly into it, so -that it came out quite brightly at first, a vivid oblong of room, lying -like a magic-lantern picture upon the black landscape and the livid -green dawn. In addition to the sunlight, a candle had just been lit in -the room. - -On the bed lay a lank man, his ghastly white face terrible upon the -tumbled pillow. His clenched hands were raised above his head. A little -table beside the bed carried a few medicine bottles, some toast and -water, and an empty glass. Every now and then the lank man's lips -fell apart, to indicate a word he could not articulate. But the woman -did not notice that he wanted anything, because she was busy turning -out papers from an old-fashioned bureau in the opposite corner of the -room. At first the picture was very vivid indeed, but as the green dawn -behind it grew brighter and brighter, so it became fainter and more and -more transparent. - -As the echoing footsteps paced nearer and nearer, those footsteps -that sound so loud in that Other-World and come so silently in this, -Plattner perceived about him a great multitude of dim faces gathering -together out of the darkness and watching the two people in the room. -Never before had he seen so many of the Watchers of the Living. -A multitude had eyes only for the sufferer in the room, another -multitude, in infinite anguish, watched the woman as she hunted with -greedy eyes for something she could not find. They crowded about -Plattner, they came across his sight and buffeted his face, the noise -of their unavailing regrets was all about him. He saw clearly only -now and then. At other times the picture quivered dimly, through the -veil of green reflections upon their movements. In the room it must -have been very still, and Plattner says the candle flame streamed -up into a perfectly vertical line of smoke, but in his ears each -footfall and its echoes beat like a clap of thunder. And the faces! -Two, more particularly near the woman's: one a woman's also, white -and clear-featured, a face which might have once been cold and hard, -but which was now softened by the touch of a wisdom strange to earth. -The other might have been the woman's father. Both were evidently -absorbed in the contemplation of some act of hateful meanness, so it -seemed, which they could no longer guard against and prevent. Behind -were others, teachers, it may be, who had taught ill, friends whose -influence had failed. And over the man, too--a multitude, but none -that seemed to be parents or teachers! Faces that might once have -been coarse, now purged to strength by sorrow! And in the forefront -one face, a girlish one, neither angry nor remorseful, but merely -patient and weary, and, as it seemed to Plattner, waiting for relief. -His powers of description fail him at the memory of this multitude of -ghastly countenances. They gathered on the stroke of the bell. He saw -them all in the space of a second. It would seem that he was so worked -on by his excitement that, quite involuntarily, his restless fingers -took the bottle of green powder out of his pocket and held it before -him. But he does not remember that. - -Abruptly the footsteps ceased. He waited for the next, and there was -silence, and then suddenly, cutting through the unexpected stillness -like a keen, thin blade, came the first stroke of the bell. At that the -multitudinous faces swayed to and fro, and a louder crying began all -about him. The woman did not hear; she was burning something now in the -candle flame. At the second stroke everything grew dim, and a breath of -wind, icy cold, blew through the host of watchers. They swirled about -him like an eddy of dead leaves in the spring, and at the third stroke -something was extended through them to the bed. You have heard of a -beam of light. This was like a beam of darkness, and looking again at -it, Plattner saw that it was a shadowy arm and hand. - -The green sun was now topping the black desolations of the horizon, -and the vision of the room was very faint. Plattner could see that -the white of the bed struggled, and was convulsed; and that the woman -looked round over her shoulder at it, startled. - -The cloud of watchers lifted high like a puff of green dust before the -wind, and swept swiftly downward towards the temple in the gorge. Then -suddenly Plattner understood the meaning of the shadowy black arm that -stretched across his shoulder and clutched its prey. He did not dare -turn his head to see the Shadow behind the arm. With a violent effort, -and covering his eyes, he set himself to run, made, perhaps, twenty -strides, then slipped on a boulder, and fell. He fell forward on his -hands; and the bottle smashed and exploded as he touched the ground. - -In another moment he found himself, stunned and bleeding, sitting face -to face with Lidgett in the old walled garden behind the school. - - * * * * * - -There the story of Plattner's experiences ends. I have resisted, I -believe successfully, the natural disposition of a writer of fiction -to dress up incidents of this sort. I have told the thing as far as -possible in the order in which Plattner told it to me. I have carefully -avoided any attempt at style, effect, or construction. It would have -been easy, for instance, to have worked the scene of the death-bed -into a kind of plot in which Plattner might have been involved. -But, quite apart from the objectionableness of falsifying a most -extraordinary true story, any such trite devices would spoil, to my -mind, the peculiar effect of this dark world, with its livid green -illumination and its drifting Watchers of the Living, which, unseen and -unapproachable to us, is yet lying all about us. - -It remains to add, that a death did actually occur in Vincent Terrace, -just beyond the school garden, and, so far as can be proved, at -the moment of Plattner's return. Deceased was a rate-collector and -insurance agent. His widow, who was much younger than himself, married -last month a Mr. Whymper, a veterinary surgeon of Allbeeding. As the -portion of this story given here has in various forms circulated orally -in Sussexville, she has consented to my use of her name, on condition -that I make it distinctly known that she emphatically contradicts every -detail of Plattner's account of her husband's last moments. She burnt -no will, she says, although Plattner never accused her of doing so: -her husband made but one will, and that just after their marriage. -Certainly, from a man who had never seen it, Plattner's account of the -furniture of the room was curiously accurate. - -One other thing, even at the risk of an irksome repetition, I must -insist upon, lest I seem to favour the credulous superstitious view. -Plattner's absence from the world for nine days is, I think, proved. -But that does not prove his story. It is quite conceivable that even -outside space hallucinations may be possible. That, at least, the -reader must bear distinctly in mind. - - - - -THE ARGONAUTS OF THE AIR - - -One saw Monson's Flying Machine from the windows of the trains passing -either along the South-Western main line or along the line between -Wimbledon and Worcester Park,--to be more exact, one saw the huge -scaffoldings which limited the flight of the apparatus. They rose over -the tree-tops, a massive alley of interlacing iron and timber, and an -enormous web of ropes and tackle, extending the best part of two miles. -From the Leatherhead branch this alley was foreshortened and in part -hidden by a hill with villas; but from the main line one had it in -profile, a complex tangle of girders and curving bars, very impressive -to the excursionists from Portsmouth and Southampton and the West. -Monson had taken up the work where Maxim had left it, had gone on at -first with an utter contempt for the journalistic wit and ignorance -that had irritated and hampered his predecessor, and had spent (it was -said) rather more than half his immense fortune upon his experiments. -The results, to an impatient generation, seemed inconsiderable. When -some five years had passed after the growth of the colossal iron groves -at Worcester Park, and Monson still failed to put in a fluttering -appearance over Trafalgar Square, even the Isle of Wight trippers felt -their liberty to smile. And such intelligent people as did not consider -Monson a fool stricken with the mania for invention, denounced him as -being (for no particular reason) a self-advertising quack. - -Yet now and again a morning trainload of season-ticket holders would -see a white monster rush headlong through the airy tracery of guides -and bars, and hear the further stays, nettings, and buffers snap, -creak, and groan with the impact of the blow. Then there would be -an efflorescence of black-set white-rimmed faces along the sides of -the train, and the morning papers would be neglected for a vigorous -discussion of the possibility of flying (in which nothing new was ever -said by any chance), until the train reached Waterloo, and its cargo -of season-ticket holders dispersed themselves over London. Or the -fathers and mothers in some multitudinous train of weary excursionists -returning exhausted from a day of rest by the sea, would find the dark -fabric, standing out against the evening sky, useful in diverting some -bilious child from its introspection, and be suddenly startled by the -swift transit of a huge black flapping shape that strained upward -against the guides. It was a great and forcible thing beyond dispute, -and excellent for conversation; yet, all the same, it was but flying in -leading-strings, and most of those who witnessed it scarcely counted -its flight as flying. More of a switchback it seemed to the run of the -folk. - -Monson, I say, did not trouble himself very keenly about the opinions -of the press at first. But possibly he, even, had formed but a poor -idea of the time it would take before the tactics of flying were -mastered, the swift assured adjustment of the big soaring shape to -every gust and chance movement of the air; nor had he clearly reckoned -the money this prolonged struggle against gravitation would cost -him. And he was not so pachydermatous as he seemed. Secretly he had -his periodical bundles of cuttings sent him by Romeike, he had his -periodical reminders from his banker; and if he did not mind the -initial ridicule and scepticism, he felt the growing neglect as the -months went by and the money dribbled away. Time was when Monson had -sent the enterprising journalist, keen after readable matter, empty -from his gates. But when the enterprising journalist ceased from -troubling, Monson was anything but satisfied in his heart of hearts. -Still day by day the work went on, and the multitudinous subtle -difficulties of the steering diminished in number. Day by day, too, -the money trickled away, until his balance was no longer a matter of -hundreds of thousands, but of tens. And at last came an anniversary. - -Monson, sitting in the little drawing-shed, suddenly noticed the date -on Woodhouse's calendar. - -"It was five years ago to-day that we began," he said to Woodhouse -suddenly. - -"Is it?" said Woodhouse. - -"It's the alterations play the devil with us," said Monson, biting a -paper-fastener. - -The drawings for the new vans to the hinder screw lay on the table -before him as he spoke. He pitched the mutilated brass paper-fastener -into the waste-paper basket and drummed with his fingers. "These -alterations! Will the mathematicians ever be clever enough to save us -all this patching and experimenting? Five years--learning by rule of -thumb, when one might think that it was possible to calculate the whole -thing out beforehand. The cost of it! I might have hired three senior -wranglers for life. But they'd only have developed some beautifully -useless theorems in pneumatics. What a time it has been, Woodhouse!" - -"These mouldings will take three weeks," said Woodhouse. "At special -prices." - -"Three weeks!" said Monson, and sat drumming. - -"Three weeks certain," said Woodhouse, an excellent engineer, but no -good as a comforter. He drew the sheets towards him and began shading a -bar. - -Monson stopped drumming, and began to bite his finger-nails, staring -the while at Woodhouse's head. - -"How long have they been calling this Monson's Folly?" he said suddenly. - -"_Oh!_ Year or so," said Woodhouse carelessly, without looking up. - -Monson sucked the air in between his teeth, and went to the window. The -stout iron columns carrying the elevated rails upon which the start of -the machine was made rose up close by, and the machine was hidden by -the upper edge of the window. Through the grove of iron pillars, red -painted and ornate with rows of bolts, one had a glimpse of the pretty -scenery towards Esher. A train went gliding noiselessly across the -middle distance, its rattle drowned by the hammering of the workmen -overhead. Monson could imagine the grinning faces at the windows of the -carriages. He swore savagely under his breath, and dabbed viciously at -a blowfly that suddenly became noisy on the window-pane. - -"What's up?" said Woodhouse, staring in surprise at his employer. - -"I'm about sick of this." - -Woodhouse scratched his cheek. "Oh!" he said, after an assimilating -pause. He pushed the drawing away from him. - -"Here these fools ... I'm trying to conquer a new element--trying to -do a thing that will revolutionise life. And instead of taking an -intelligent interest, they grin and make their stupid jokes, and call -me and my appliances names." - -"Asses!" said Woodhouse, letting his eye fall again on the drawing. - -The epithet, curiously enough, made Monson wince. "I'm about sick of -it, Woodhouse, anyhow," he said, after a pause. - -Woodhouse shrugged his shoulders. - -"There's nothing for it but patience, I suppose," said Monson, sticking -his hands in his pockets. "I've started. I've made my bed, and I've got -to lie on it. I can't go back. I'll see it through, and spend every -penny I have and every penny I can borrow. But I tell you, Woodhouse, -I'm infernally sick of it, all the same. If I'd paid a tenth part of -the money towards some political greaser's expenses--I'd have been a -baronet before this." - -Monson paused. Woodhouse stared in front of him with a blank expression -he always employed to indicate sympathy, and tapped his pencil-case on -the table. Monson stared at him for a minute. - -"Oh, _damn_!" said Monson suddenly, and abruptly rushed out of the room. - -Woodhouse continued his sympathetic rigour for perhaps half a minute. -Then he sighed and resumed the shading of the drawings. Something had -evidently upset Monson. Nice chap, and generous, but difficult to get -on with. It was the way with every amateur who had anything to do with -engineering--wanted everything finished at once. But Monson had usually -the patience of the expert. Odd he was so irritable. Nice and round -that aluminium rod did look now! Woodhouse threw back his head, and put -it, first this side and then that, to appreciate his bit of shading -better. - -"Mr. Woodhouse," said Hooper, the foreman of the labourers, putting his -head in at the door. - -"Hullo!" said Woodhouse, without turning round. - -"Nothing happened, sir?" said Hooper. - -"Happened?" said Woodhouse. - -"The governor just been up the rails swearing like a tornader." - -"_Oh!_" said Woodhouse. - -"It ain't like him, sir." - -"No?" - -"And I was thinking perhaps"-- - -"Don't think," said Woodhouse, still admiring the drawings. - -Hooper knew Woodhouse, and he shut the door suddenly with a vicious -slam. Woodhouse stared stonily before him for some further minutes, -and then made an ineffectual effort to pick his teeth with his pencil. -Abruptly he desisted, pitched that old, tried, and stumpy servitor -across the room, got up, stretched himself, and followed Hooper. - -He looked ruffled--it was visible to every workman he met. When a -millionaire who has been spending thousands on experiments that employ -quite a little army of people suddenly indicates that he is sick of -the undertaking, there is almost invariably a certain amount of mental -friction in the ranks of the little army he employs. And even before he -indicates his intentions there are speculations and murmurs, a watching -of faces and a study of straws. Hundreds of people knew before the day -was out that Monson was ruffled, Woodhouse ruffled, Hooper ruffled. A -workman's wife, for instance (whom Monson had never seen), decided to -keep her money in the savings-bank instead of buying a velveteen dress. -So far-reaching are even the casual curses of a millionaire. - -Monson found a certain satisfaction in going on the works and behaving -disagreeably to as many people as possible. After a time even -that palled upon him, and he rode off the grounds, to every one's -relief there, and through the lanes south-eastward, to the infinite -tribulation of his house steward at Cheam. - -And the immediate cause of it all, the little grain of annoyance that -had suddenly precipitated all this discontent with his life-work -was--these trivial things that direct all our great decisions!--half -a dozen ill-considered remarks made by a pretty girl, prettily -dressed, with a beautiful voice and something more than prettiness -in her soft grey eyes. And of these half-dozen remarks, two words -especially--"Monson's Folly." She had felt she was behaving charmingly -to Monson; she reflected the next day how exceptionally effective she -had been, and no one would have been more amazed than she, had she -learned the effect she had left on Monson's mind. I hope, considering -everything, that she never knew. - -"How are you getting on with your flying-machine?" she asked. ("I -wonder if I shall ever meet any one with the sense not to ask that," -thought Monson.) "It will be very dangerous at first, will it not?" -("Thinks I'm afraid.") "Jorgon is going to play presently; have you -heard him before?" ("My mania being attended to, we turn to rational -conversation.") Gush about Jorgon; gradual decline of conversation, -ending with--"You must let me know when your flying-machine is -finished, Mr. Monson, and then I will consider the advisability of -taking a ticket." ("One would think I was still playing inventions -in the nursery.") But the bitterest thing she said was not meant for -Monson's ears. To Phlox, the novelist, she was always conscientiously -brilliant. "I have been talking to Mr. Monson, and he can think of -nothing, positively nothing, but that flying-machine of his. Do you -know, all his workmen call that place of his 'Monson's Folly'? He is -quite impossible. It is really very, very sad. I always regard him -myself in the light of sunken treasure--the Lost Millionaire, you know." - -She was pretty and well educated,--indeed, she had written an -epigrammatic novelette; but the bitterness was that she was typical. -She summarised what the world thought of the man who was working -sanely, steadily, and surely towards a more tremendous revolution in -the appliances of civilisation, a more far-reaching alteration in the -ways of humanity than has ever been effected since history began. -They did not even take him seriously. In a little while he would be -proverbial. "I _must_ fly now," he said on his way home, smarting with -a sense of absolute social failure. "I must fly soon. If it doesn't -come off soon, by God! I shall run amuck." - -He said that before he had gone through his pass-book and his litter of -papers. Inadequate as the cause seems, it was that girl's voice and the -expression of her eyes that precipitated his discontent. But certainly -the discovery that he had no longer even one hundred thousand pounds' -worth of realisable property behind him was the poison that made the -wound deadly. - -It was the next day after this that he exploded upon Woodhouse and -his workmen, and thereafter his bearing was consistently grim for -three weeks, and anxiety dwelt in Cheam and Ewell, Malden, Morden, and -Worcester Park, places that had thriven mightily on his experiments. - -Four weeks after that first swearing of his, he stood with Woodhouse -by the reconstructed machine as it lay across the elevated railway, -by means of which it gained its initial impetus. The new propeller -glittered a brighter white than the rest of the machine, and a gilder, -obedient to a whim of Monson's, was picking out the aluminium bars -with gold. And looking down the long avenue between the ropes (gilded -now with the sunset), one saw red signals, and two miles away an -ant-hill of workmen busy altering the last falls of the run into a -rising slope. - -"I'll _come_," said Woodhouse. "I'll come right enough. But I tell you -it's infernally foolhardy. If only you would give another year"-- - -"I tell you I won't. I tell you the thing works. I've given years -enough"-- - -"It's not that," said Woodhouse. "We're all right with the machine. But -it's the steering"-- - -"Haven't I been rushing, night and morning, backwards and forwards, -through this squirrel's cage? If the thing steers true here, it will -steer true all across England. It's just funk, I tell you, Woodhouse. -We could have gone a year ago. And besides"-- - -"Well?" said Woodhouse. - -"The money!" snapped Monson over his shoulder. - -"Hang it! I never thought of the money," said Woodhouse, and then, -speaking now in a very different tone to that with which he had said -the words before, he repeated, "I'll come. Trust me." - -Monson turned suddenly, and saw all that Woodhouse had not the -dexterity to say, shining on his sunset-lit face. He looked for a -moment, then impulsively extended his hand. "Thanks," he said. - -"All right," said Woodhouse, gripping the hand, and with a queer -softening of his features. "Trust me." - -Then both men turned to the big apparatus that lay with its flat wings -extended upon the carrier, and stared at it meditatively. Monson, -guided perhaps by a photographic study of the flight of birds, and by -Lilienthal's methods, had gradually drifted from Maxim's shapes towards -the bird form again. The thing, however, was driven by a huge screw -behind in the place of the tail; and so hovering, which needs an almost -vertical adjustment of a flat tail, was rendered impossible. The body -of the machine was small, almost cylindrical, and pointed. Forward and -aft on the pointed ends were two small petroleum engines for the screw, -and the navigators sat deep in a canoe-like recess, the foremost one -steering, and being protected by a low screen, with two plate-glass -windows, from the blinding rush of air. On either side a monstrous flat -framework with a curved front border could be adjusted so as either to -lie horizontally, or to be tilted upward or down. These wings worked -rigidly together, or, by releasing a pin, one could be tilted through -a small angle independently of its fellow. The front edge of either -wing could also be shifted back so as to diminish the wing-area about -one-sixth. The machine was not only not designed to hover, but it was -also incapable of fluttering. Monson's idea was to get into the air -with the initial rush of the apparatus, and then to skim, much as a -playing-card may be skimmed, keeping up the rush by means of the screw -at the stern. Rooks and gulls fly enormous distances in that way with -scarcely a perceptible movement of the wings. The bird really drives -along on an aėrial switchback. It glides slanting downward for a -space, until it has gained considerable momentum, and then altering -the inclination of its wings, glides up again almost to its original -altitude. Even a Londoner who has watched the birds in the aviary in -Regent's Park knows that. - -But the bird is practising this art from the moment it leaves its nest. -It has not only the perfect apparatus, but the perfect instinct to -use it. A man off his feet has the poorest skill in balancing. Even -the simple trick of the bicycle costs him some hours of labour. The -instantaneous adjustments of the wings, the quick response to a passing -breeze, the swift recovery of equilibrium, the giddy, eddying movements -that require such absolute precision--all that he must learn, learn -with infinite labour and infinite danger, if ever he is to conquer -flying. The flying-machine that will start off some fine day, driven -by neat "little levers," with a nice open deck like a liner, and all -loaded up with bombshells and guns, is the easy dreaming of a literary -man. In lives and in treasure the cost of the conquest of the empire of -the air may even exceed all that has been spent in man's great conquest -of the sea. Certainly it will be costlier than the greatest war that -has ever devastated the world. - -No one knew these things better than these two practical men. And they -knew they were in the front rank of the coming army. Yet there is -hope even in a forlorn hope. Men are killed outright in the reserves -sometimes, while others who have been left for dead in the thickest -corner crawl out and survive. - -"If we miss these meadows"--said Woodhouse presently in his slow way. - -"My dear chap," said Monson, whose spirits had been rising fitfully -during the last few days, "we mustn't miss these meadows. There's -a quarter of a square mile for us to hit, fences removed, ditches -levelled. We shall come down all right--rest assured. And if we don't"-- - -"Ah!" said Woodhouse. "If we don't!" - -Before the day of the start, the newspaper people got wind of the -alterations at the northward end of the framework, and Monson was -cheered by a decided change in the comments Romeike forwarded him. "He -will be off some day," said the papers. "He will be off some day," -said the South-Western season-ticket holders one to another; the -seaside excursionists, the Saturday-to-Monday trippers from Sussex -and Hampshire and Dorset and Devon, the eminent literary people from -Hazlemere, all remarked eagerly one to another, "He will be off -some day," as the familiar scaffolding came in sight. And actually, -one bright morning, in full view of the ten-past-ten train from -Basingstoke, Monson's flying-machine started on its journey. - -They saw the carrier running swiftly along its rail, and the white and -gold screw spinning in the air. They heard the rapid rumble of wheels, -and a thud as the carrier reached the buffers at the end of its run. -Then a whirr as the Flying-Machine was shot forward into the networks. -All that the majority of them had seen and heard before. The thing went -with a drooping flight through the framework and rose again, and then -every beholder shouted, or screamed, or yelled, or shrieked after his -kind. For instead of the customary concussion and stoppage, the Flying -Machine flew out of its five years' cage like a bolt from a crossbow, -and drove slantingly upward into the air, curved round a little, so as -to cross the line, and soared in the direction of Wimbledon Common. - -It seemed to hang momentarily in the air and grow smaller, then it -ducked and vanished over the clustering blue tree-tops to the east of -Coombe Hill, and no one stopped staring and gasping until long after it -had disappeared. - -That was what the people in the train from Basingstoke saw. If you had -drawn a line down the middle of that train, from engine to guard's -van, you would not have found a living soul on the opposite side to -the flying-machine. It was a mad rush from window to window as the -thing crossed the line. And the engine-driver and stoker never took -their eyes off the low hills about Wimbledon, and never noticed that -they had run clean through Coombe and Maiden and Raynes Park, until, -with returning animation, they found themselves pelting, at the most -indecent pace, into Wimbledon station. - -From the moment when Monson had started the carrier with a "_Now!_" -neither he nor Woodhouse said a word. Both men sat with clenched -teeth. Monson had crossed the line with a curve that was too sharp, -and Woodhouse had opened and shut his white lips; but neither spoke. -Woodhouse simply gripped his seat, and breathed sharply through his -teeth, watching the blue country to the west rushing past, and down, -and away from him. Monson knelt at his post forward, and his hands -trembled on the spoked wheel that moved the wings. He could see -nothing before him but a mass of white clouds in the sky. - -The machine went slanting upward, travelling with an enormous speed -still, but losing momentum every moment. The land ran away underneath -with diminishing speed. - -"_Now!_" said Woodhouse at last, and with a violent effort Monson -wrenched over the wheel and altered the angle of the wings. The machine -seemed to hang for half a minute motionless in mid-air, and then he -saw the hazy blue house-covered hills of Kilburn and Hampstead jump -up before his eyes and rise steadily, until the little sunlit dome of -the Albert Hall appeared through his windows. For a moment he scarcely -understood the meaning of this upward rush of the horizon, but as the -nearer and nearer houses came into view, he realised what he had done. -He had turned the wings over too far, and they were swooping steeply -downward towards the Thames. - -The thought, the question, the realisation were all the business of a -second of time. "Too much!" gasped Woodhouse. Monson brought the wheel -half-way back with a jerk, and forthwith the Kilburn and Hampstead -ridge dropped again to the lower edge of his windows. They had been -a thousand feet above Coombe and Maiden station; fifty seconds after -they whizzed, at a frightful pace, not eighty feet above the East -Putney station, on the Metropolitan District line, to the screaming -astonishment of a platformful of people. Monson flung up the vans -against the air, and over Fulham they rushed up their atmospheric -switchback again, steeply--too steeply. The 'buses went floundering -across the Fulham Road, the people yelled. - -Then down again, too steeply still, and the distant trees and houses -about Primrose Hill leapt up across Monson's window, and then suddenly -he saw straight before him the greenery of Kensington Gardens and the -towers of the Imperial Institute. They were driving straight down upon -South Kensington. The pinnacles of the Natural History Museum rushed up -into view. There came one fatal second of swift thought, a moment of -hesitation. Should he try and clear the towers, or swerve eastward? - -He made a hesitating attempt to release the right wing, left the catch -half released, and gave a frantic clutch at the wheel. - -The nose of the machine seemed to leap up before him. The wheel pressed -his hand with irresistible force, and jerked itself out of his control. - -Woodhouse, sitting crouched together, gave a hoarse cry, and sprang up -towards Monson. "Too far!" he cried, and then he was clinging to the -gunwale for dear life, and Monson had been jerked clean overhead, and -was falling backwards upon him. - -So swiftly had the thing happened that barely a quarter of the people -going to and fro in Hyde Park, and Brompton Road, and the Exhibition -Road saw anything of the aėrial catastrophe. A distant winged shape -had appeared above the clustering houses to the south, had fallen -and risen, growing larger as it did so; had swooped swiftly down -towards the Imperial Institute, a broad spread of flying wings, had -swept round in a quarter circle, dashed eastward, and then suddenly -sprang vertically into the air. A black object shot out of it, and -came spinning downward. A man! Two men clutching each other! They came -whirling down, separated as they struck the roof of the Students' Club, -and bounded off into the green bushes on its southward side. - -For perhaps half a minute, the pointed stem of the big machine still -pierced vertically upward, the screw spinning desperately. For one -brief instant, that yet seemed an age to all who watched, it had hung -motionless in mid-air. Then a spout of yellow flame licked up its -length from the stern engine, and swift, swifter, swifter, and flaring -like a rocket, it rushed down upon the solid mass of masonry which was -formerly the Royal College of Science. The big screw of white and gold -touched the parapet, and crumpled up like wet linen. Then the blazing -spindle-shaped body smashed and splintered, smashing and splintering in -its fall, upon the north-westward angle of the building. - -But the crash, the flame of blazing paraffin that shot heavenward from -the shattered engines of the machine, the crushed horrors that were -found in the garden beyond the Students' Club, the masses of yellow -parapet and red brick that fell headlong into the roadway, the running -to and fro of people like ants in a broken ant-hill, the galloping of -fire-engines, the gathering of crowds--all these things do not belong -to this story, which was written only to tell how the first of all -successful flying-machines was launched and flew. Though he failed, and -failed disastrously, the record of Monson's work remains--a sufficient -monument--to guide the next of that band of gallant experimentalists -who will sooner or later master this great problem of flying. And -between Worcester Park and Malden there still stands that portentous -avenue of iron-work, rusting now, and dangerous here and there, to -witness to the first desperate struggle for man's right of way through -the air. - - - - -THE STORY OF THE LATE MR. ELVESHAM - - -I set this story down, not expecting it will be believed, but, if -possible, to prepare a way of escape for the next victim. He, perhaps, -may profit by my misfortune. My own case, I know, is hopeless, and I am -now in some measure prepared to meet my fate. - -My name is Edward George Eden. I was born at Trentham, in Staffordshire, -my father being employed in the gardens there. I lost my mother when -I was three years old, and my father when I was five, my uncle, -George Eden, then adopting me as his own son. He was a single man, -self-educated, and well-known in Birmingham as an enterprising -journalist; he educated me generously, fired my ambition to succeed -in the world, and at his death, which happened four years ago, left -me his entire fortune, a matter of about five hundred pounds after -all outgoing charges were paid. I was then eighteen. He advised me -in his will to expend the money in completing my education. I had -already chosen the profession of medicine, and through his posthumous -generosity, and my good fortune in a scholarship competition, I became -a medical student at University College, London. At the time of the -beginning of my story I lodged at 11A University Street, in a little -upper room, very shabbily furnished, and draughty, overlooking the back -of Shoolbred's premises. I used this little room both to live in and -sleep in, because I was anxious to eke out my means to the very last -shillingsworth. - -I was taking a pair of shoes to be mended at a shop in the Tottenham -Court Road when I first encountered the little old man with the yellow -face, with whom my life has now become so inextricably entangled. He -was standing on the kerb, and staring at the number on the door in -a doubtful way, as I opened it. His eyes--they were dull grey eyes, -and reddish under the rims--fell to my face, and his countenance -immediately assumed an expression of corrugated amiability. - -"You come," he said, "apt to the moment. I had forgotten the number of -your house. How do you do, Mr. Eden?" - -I was a little astonished at his familiar address, for I had never set -eyes on the man before. I was a little annoyed, too, at his catching me -with my boots under my arm. He noticed my lack of cordiality. - -"Wonder who the deuce I am, eh? A friend, let me assure you. I have -seen you before, though you haven't seen me. Is there anywhere where I -can talk to you?" - -I hesitated. The shabbiness of my room upstairs was not a matter for -every stranger. "Perhaps," said I, "we might walk down the street. I'm -unfortunately prevented"--My gesture explained the sentence before I -had spoken it. - -"The very thing," he said, and faced this way and then that. "The -street? Which way shall we go?" I slipped my boots down in the passage. -"Look here!" he said abruptly; "this business of mine is a rigmarole. -Come and lunch with me, Mr. Eden. I'm an old man, a very old man, and -not good at explanations, and what with my piping voice and the clatter -of the traffic"-- - -He laid a persuasive skinny hand that trembled a little upon my arm. - -I was not so old that an old man might not treat me to a lunch. Yet at -the same time I was not altogether pleased by this abrupt invitation. -"I had rather"--I began. "But _I_ had rather," he said, catching me -up, "and a certain civility is surely due to my grey hairs." And so I -consented, and went with him. - -He took me to Blavitski's; I had to walk slowly to accommodate myself -to his paces; and over such a lunch as I had never tasted before, -he fended off my leading questions, and I took a better note of his -appearance. His clean-shaven face was lean and wrinkled, his shrivelled -lips fell over a set of false teeth, and his white hair was thin and -rather long; he seemed small to me,--though, indeed, most people seemed -small to me,--and his shoulders were rounded and bent. And watching -him, I could not help but observe that he too was taking note of me, -running his eyes, with a curious touch of greed in them, over me, from -my broad shoulders to my sun-tanned hands, and up to my freckled face -again. "And now," said he, as we lit our cigarettes, "I must tell you -of the business in hand. - -"I must tell you, then, that I am an old man, a very old man." He -paused momentarily. "And it happens that I have money that I must -presently be leaving, and never a child have I to leave it to." I -thought of the confidence trick, and resolved I would be on the alert -for the vestiges of my five hundred pounds. He proceeded to enlarge on -his loneliness, and the trouble he had to find a proper disposition -of his money. "I have weighed this plan and that plan, charities, -institutions, and scholarships, and libraries, and I have come to this -conclusion at last,"--he fixed his eyes on my face,--"that I will find -some young fellow, ambitious, pure-minded, and poor, healthy in body -and healthy in mind, and, in short, make him my heir, give him all -that I have." He repeated, "Give him all that I have. So that he will -suddenly be lifted out of all the trouble and struggle in which his -sympathies have been educated, to freedom and influence." - -I tried to seem disinterested. With a transparent hypocrisy, I said, -"And you want my help, my professional services, maybe, to find that -person." - -He smiled, and looked at me over his cigarette, and I laughed at his -quiet exposure of my modest pretence. - -"What a career such a man might have!" he said. "It fills me with envy -to think how I have accumulated that another man may spend-- - -"But there are conditions, of course, burdens to be imposed. He must, -for instance, take my name. You cannot expect everything without some -return. And I must go into all the circumstances of his life before I -can accept him. He _must_ be sound. I must know his heredity, how his -parents and grandparents died, have the strictest inquiries made into -his private morals"-- - -This modified my secret congratulations a little. "And do I understand," -said I, "that I--?" - -"Yes," he said, almost fiercely. "You. _You._" - -I answered never a word. My imagination was dancing wildly, my innate -scepticism was useless to modify its transports. There was not a -particle of gratitude in my mind--I did not know what to say nor how to -say it. "But why me in particular?" I said at last. - -He had chanced to hear of me from Professor Haslar, he said, as a -typically sound and sane young man, and he wished, as far as possible, -to leave his money where health and integrity were assured. - -That was my first meeting with the little old man. He was mysterious -about himself; he would not give his name yet, he said, and after I had -answered some questions of his, he left me at the Blavitski portal. -I noticed that he drew a handful of gold coins from his pocket when -it came to paying for the lunch. His insistence upon bodily health -was curious. In accordance with an arrangement we had made I applied -that day for a life policy in the Loyal Insurance Company for a large -sum, and I was exhaustively overhauled by the medical advisers of that -company in the subsequent week. Even that did not satisfy him, and he -insisted I must be re-examined by the great Doctor Henderson. It was -Friday in Whitsun week before he came to a decision. He called me -down, quite late in the evening,--nearly nine it was,--from cramming -chemical equations for my Preliminary Scientific examination. He was -standing in the passage under the feeble gas-lamp, and his face was a -grotesque interplay of shadows. He seemed more bowed than when I had -first seen him, and his cheeks had sunk in a little. - -His voice shook with emotion. "Everything is satisfactory, Mr. Eden," -he said. "Everything is quite, quite satisfactory. And this night of -all nights, you must dine with me and celebrate your--accession." He -was interrupted by a cough. "You won't have long to wait, either," he -said, wiping his handkerchief across his lips, and gripping my hand -with his long bony claw that was disengaged. "Certainly not very long -to wait." - -We went into the street and called a cab. I remember every incident of -that drive vividly, the swift, easy motion, the vivid contrast of gas -and oil and electric light, the crowds of people in the streets, the -place in Regent Street to which we went, and the sumptuous dinner we -were served with there. I was disconcerted at first by the well-dressed -waiter's glances at my rough clothes, bothered by the stones of the -olives, but as the champagne warmed my blood, my confidence revived. At -first the old man talked of himself. He had already told me his name in -the cab; he was Egbert Elvesham, the great philosopher, whose name I -had known since I was a lad at school. It seemed incredible to me that -this man, whose intelligence had so early dominated mine, this great -abstraction, should suddenly realise itself as this decrepit, familiar -figure. I daresay every young fellow who has suddenly fallen among -celebrities has felt something of my disappointment. He told me now of -the future that the feeble streams of his life would presently leave -dry for me, houses, copyrights, investments; I had never suspected that -philosophers were so rich. He watched me drink and eat with a touch of -envy. "What a capacity for living you have!" he said; and then, with a -sigh, a sigh of relief I could have thought it, "It will not be long." - -"Ay," said I, my head swimming now with champagne; "I have a future -perhaps--of a passing agreeable sort, thanks to you. I shall now have -the honour of your name. But you have a past. Such a past as is worth -all my future." - -He shook his head and smiled, as I thought, with half-sad appreciation -of my flattering admiration. "That future," he said, "would you -in truth change it?" The waiter came with liqueurs. "You will not -perhaps mind taking my name, taking my position, but would you -indeed--willingly--take my years?" - -"With your achievements," said I gallantly. - -He smiled again. "Kummel--both," he said to the waiter, and turned -his attention to a little paper packet he had taken from his pocket. -"This hour," said he, "this after-dinner hour is the hour of small -things. Here is a scrap of my unpublished wisdom." He opened the packet -with his shaking yellow fingers, and showed a little pinkish powder -on the paper. "This," said he--"well, you must guess what it is. But -Kummel--put but a dash of this powder in it--is Himmel." His large -greyish eyes watched mine with an inscrutable expression. - -It was a bit of a shock to me to find this great teacher gave his mind -to the flavour of liqueurs. However, I feigned a great interest in his -weakness, for I was drunk enough for such small sycophancy. - -He parted the powder between the little glasses, and, rising suddenly, -with a strange unexpected dignity, held out his hand towards me. I -imitated his action, and the glasses rang. "To a quick succession," -said he, and raised his glass towards his lips. - -"Not that," I said hastily. "Not that." - -He paused, with the liqueur at the level of his chin, and his eyes -blazing into mine. - -"To a long life," said I. - -He hesitated. "To a long life," said he, with a sudden bark of -laughter, and with eyes fixed on one another we tilted the little -glasses. His eyes looked straight into mine, and as I drained the stuff -off, I felt a curiously intense sensation. The first touch of it set my -brain in a furious tumult; I seemed to feel an actual physical stirring -in my skull, and a seething humming filled my ears. I did not notice -the flavour in my mouth, the aroma that filled my throat; I saw only -the grey intensity of his gaze that burnt into mine. The draught, the -mental confusion, the noise and stirring in my head, seemed to last an -interminable time. Curious vague impressions of half-forgotten things -danced and vanished on the edge of my consciousness. At last he broke -the spell. With a sudden explosive sigh he put down his glass. - -"Well?" he said. - -"It's glorious," said I, though I had not tasted the stuff. - -My head was spinning. I sat down. My brain was chaos. Then my -perception grew clear and minute as though I saw things in a concave -mirror. His manner seemed to have changed into something nervous and -hasty. He pulled out his watch and grimaced at it. "Eleven-seven! And -to-night I must--Seven--twenty-five. Waterloo! I must go at once." He -called for the bill, and struggled with his coat. Officious waiters -came to our assistance. In another moment I was wishing him good-bye, -over the apron of a cab, and still with an absurd feeling of minute -distinctness, as though--how can I express it?--I not only saw but -_felt_ through an inverted opera-glass. - -"That stuff," he said. He put his hand to his forehead. "I ought not -to have given it to you. It will make your head split to-morrow. -Wait a minute. Here." He handed me out a little flat thing like a -seidlitz-powder. "Take that in water as you are going to bed. The other -thing was a drug. Not till you're ready to go to bed, mind. It will -clear your head. That's all. One more shake--Futurus!" - -I gripped his shrivelled claw. "Good-bye," he said, and by the droop of -his eyelids I judged he too was a little under the influence of that -brain-twisting cordial. - -He recollected something else with a start, felt in his breast-pocket, -and produced another packet, this time a cylinder the size and shape of -a shaving-stick. "Here," said he. "I'd almost forgotten. Don't open -this until I come to-morrow--but take it now." - -It was so heavy that I well-nigh dropped it. "All ri'!" said I, and he -grinned at me through the cab window as the cabman flicked his horse -into wakefulness. It was a white packet he had given me, with red seals -at either end and along its edge. "If this isn't money," said I, "it's -platinum or lead." - -I stuck it with elaborate care into my pocket, and with a whirling -brain walked home through the Regent Street loiterers and the dark -back streets beyond Portland Road. I remember the sensations of that -walk very vividly, strange as they were. I was still so far myself -that I could notice my strange mental state, and wonder whether this -stuff I had had was opium--a drug beyond my experience. It is hard now -to describe the peculiarity of my mental strangeness--mental doubling -vaguely expresses it. As I was walking up Regent Street I found in my -mind a queer persuasion that it was Waterloo station, and had an odd -impulse to get into the Polytechnic as a man might get into a train. I -put a knuckle in my eye, and it was Regent Street. How can I express -it? You see a skilful actor looking quietly at you, he pulls a grimace, -and lo!--another person. Is it too extravagant if I tell you that it -seemed to me as if Regent Street had, for the moment, done that? Then, -being persuaded it was Regent Street again, I was oddly muddled about -some fantastic reminiscences that cropped up. "Thirty years ago," -thought I, "it was here that I quarrelled with my brother." Then I -burst out laughing, to the astonishment and encouragement of a group of -night prowlers. Thirty years ago I did not exist, and never in my life -had I boasted a brother. The stuff was surely liquid folly, for the -poignant regret for that lost brother still clung to me. Along Portland -Road the madness took another turn. I began to recall vanished shops, -and to compare the street with what it used to be. Confused, troubled -thinking is comprehensible enough after the drink I had taken, but what -puzzled me were these curiously vivid phantasm memories that had crept -into my mind, and not only the memories that had crept in, but also -the memories that had slipped out. I stopped opposite Stevens', the -natural history dealer's, and cudgelled my brains to think what he had -to do with me. A 'bus went by, and sounded exactly like the rumbling -of a train. I seemed to be dipped into some dark, remote pit for the -recollection. "Of course," said I, at last, "he has promised me three -frogs to-morrow. Odd I should have forgotten." - -Do they still show children dissolving views? In those I remember one -view would begin like a faint ghost, and grow and oust another. In -just that way it seemed to me that a ghostly set of new sensations was -struggling with those of my ordinary self. - -I went on through Euston Road to Tottenham Court Road, puzzled, and a -little frightened, and scarcely noticed the unusual way I was taking, -for commonly I used to cut through the intervening network of back -streets. I turned into University Street, to discover that I had -forgotten my number. Only by a strong effort did I recall 11A, and -even then it seemed to me that it was a thing some forgotten person -had told me. I tried to steady my mind by recalling the incidents of -the dinner, and for the life of me I could conjure up no picture of -my host's face; I saw him only as a shadowy outline, as one might see -oneself reflected in a window through which one was looking. In his -place, however, I had a curious exterior vision of myself sitting at a -table, flushed, bright-eyed, and talkative. - -"I must take this other powder," said I. "This is getting impossible." - -I tried the wrong side of the hall for my candle and the matches, and -had a doubt of which landing my room might be on. "I'm drunk," I said, -"that's certain," and blundered needlessly on the staircase to sustain -the proposition. - -At the first glance my room seemed unfamiliar. "What rot!" I said, and -stared about me. I seemed to bring myself back by the effort, and the -odd phantasmal quality passed into the concrete familiar. There was the -old glass still, with my notes on the albumens stuck in the corner of -the frame, my old everyday suit of clothes pitched about the floor. And -yet it was not so real after all. I felt an idiotic persuasion trying -to creep into my mind, as it were, that I was in a railway carriage in -a train just stopping, that I was peering out of the window at some -unknown station. I gripped the bed-rail firmly to reassure myself. -"It's clairvoyance, perhaps," I said. "I must write to the Psychical -Research Society." - -I put the rouleau on my dressing-table, sat on my bed and began to -take off my boots. It was as if the picture of my present sensations -was painted over some other picture that was trying to show through. -"Curse it!" said I; "my wits are going, or am I in two places at once?" -Half-undressed, I tossed the powder into a glass and drank it off. It -effervesced, and became a fluorescent amber colour. Before I was in bed -my mind was already tranquillised. I felt the pillow at my cheek, and -thereupon I must have fallen asleep. - - * * * * * - -I awoke abruptly out of a dream of strange beasts, and found myself -lying on my back. Probably everyone knows that dismal, emotional dream -from which one escapes, awake indeed, but strangely cowed. There was -a curious taste in my mouth, a tired feeling in my limbs, a sense of -cutaneous discomfort. I lay with my head motionless on my pillow, -expecting that my feeling of strangeness and terror would probably -pass away, and that I should then doze off again to sleep. But instead -of that, my uncanny sensations increased. At first I could perceive -nothing wrong about me. There was a faint light in the room, so faint -that it was the very next thing to darkness, and the furniture stood -out in it as vague blots of absolute darkness. I stared with my eyes -just over the bedclothes. - -It came into my mind that someone had entered the room to rob me of my -rouleau of money, but after lying for some moments, breathing regularly -to simulate sleep, I realised this was mere fancy. Nevertheless, the -uneasy assurance of something wrong kept fast hold of me. With an -effort I raised my head from the pillow, and peered about me at the -dark. What it was I could not conceive. I looked at the dim shapes -around me, the greater and lesser darknesses that indicated curtains, -table, fireplace, bookshelves, and so forth. Then I began to perceive -something unfamiliar in the forms of the darkness. Had the bed turned -round? Yonder should be the bookshelves, and something shrouded and -pallid rose there, something that would not answer to the bookshelves, -however I looked at it. It was far too big to be my shirt thrown on a -chair. - -Overcoming a childish terror, I threw back the bedclothes and thrust my -leg out of bed. Instead of coming out of my truckle-bed upon the floor, -I found my foot scarcely reached the edge of the mattress. I made -another step, as it were, and sat up on the edge of the bed. By the -side of my bed should be the candle, and the matches upon the broken -chair. I put out my hand and touched--nothing. I waved my hand in the -darkness, and it came against some heavy hanging, soft and thick in -texture, which gave a rustling noise at my touch. I grasped this and -pulled it; it appeared to be a curtain suspended over the head of my -bed. - -I was now thoroughly awake, and beginning to realise that I was -in a strange room. I was puzzled. I tried to recall the overnight -circumstances, and I found them now, curiously enough, vivid in my -memory: the supper, my reception of the little packages, my wonder -whether I was intoxicated, my slow undressing, the coolness to my -flushed face of my pillow. I felt a sudden distrust. Was that last -night, or the night before? At anyrate, this room was strange to -me, and I could not imagine how I had got into it. The dim, pallid -outline was growing paler, and I perceived it was a window, with the -dark shape of an oval toilet-glass against the weak intimation of the -dawn that filtered through the blind. I stood up, and was surprised -by a curious feeling of weakness and unsteadiness. With trembling -hands outstretched, I walked slowly towards the window, getting, -nevertheless, a bruise on the knee from a chair by the way. I fumbled -round the glass, which was large, with handsome brass sconces, to find -the blind-cord. I could not find any. By chance I took hold of the -tassel, and with the click of a spring the blind ran up. - -I found myself looking out upon a scene that was altogether strange -to me. The night was overcast, and through the flocculent grey of -the heaped clouds there filtered a faint half-light of dawn. Just at -the edge of the sky, the cloud-canopy had a blood-red rim. Below, -everything was dark and indistinct, dim hills in the distance, a vague -mass of buildings running up into pinnacles, trees like spilt ink, and -below the window a tracery of black bushes and pale grey paths. It was -so unfamiliar that for the moment I thought myself still dreaming. I -felt the toilet-table; it appeared to be made of some polished wood, -and was rather elaborately furnished--there were little cut-glass -bottles and a brush upon it. There was also a queer little object, -horse-shoe-shaped it felt, with smooth, hard projections, lying in a -saucer. I could find no matches nor candlestick. - -I turned my eyes to the room again. Now the blind was up, faint -spectres of its furnishing came out of the darkness. There was a huge -curtained bed, and the fireplace at its foot had a large white mantel -with something of the shimmer of marble. - -I leant against the toilet-table, shut my eyes and opened them again, -and tried to think. The whole thing was far too real for dreaming. I -was inclined to imagine there was still some hiatus in my memory, as a -consequence of my draught of that strange liqueur; that I had come into -my inheritance perhaps, and suddenly lost my recollection of everything -since my good fortune had been announced. Perhaps if I waited a little, -things would be clearer to me again. Yet my dinner with old Elvesham -was now singularly vivid and recent. The champagne, the observant -waiters, the powder, and the liqueurs--I could have staked my soul it -all happened a few hours ago. - -And then occurred a thing so trivial and yet so terrible to me that I -shiver now to think of that moment. I spoke aloud. I said, "How the -devil did I get here?" ... _And the voice was not my own._ - -It was not my own, it was thin, the articulation was slurred, the -resonance of my facial bones was different. Then, to reassure myself -I ran one hand over the other, and felt loose folds of skin, the -bony laxity of age. "Surely," I said, in that horrible voice that -had somehow established itself in my throat, "surely this thing is a -dream!" Almost as quickly as if I did it involuntarily, I thrust my -fingers into my mouth. My teeth had gone. My finger-tips ran on the -flaccid surface of an even row of shrivelled gums. I was sick with -dismay and disgust. - -I felt then a passionate desire to see myself, to realise at once in -its full horror the ghastly change that had come upon me. I tottered to -the mantel, and felt along it for matches. As I did so, a barking cough -sprang up in my throat, and I clutched the thick flannel nightdress I -found about me. There were no matches there, and I suddenly realised -that my extremities were cold. Sniffing and coughing, whimpering a -little, perhaps, I fumbled back to bed. "It is surely a dream," I -whimpered to myself as I clambered back, "surely a dream." It was a -senile repetition. I pulled the bedclothes over my shoulders, over my -ears, I thrust my withered hand under the pillow, and determined to -compose myself to sleep. Of course it was a dream. In the morning the -dream would be over, and I should wake up strong and vigorous again to -my youth and studies. I shut my eyes, breathed regularly, and, finding -myself wakeful, began to count slowly through the powers of three. - -But the thing I desired would not come. I could not get to sleep. -And the persuasion of the inexorable reality of the change that had -happened to me grew steadily. Presently I found myself with my eyes -wide open, the powers of three forgotten, and my skinny fingers upon -my shrivelled gums. I was, indeed, suddenly and abruptly, an old man. -I had in some unaccountable manner fallen through my life and come to -old age, in some way I had been cheated of all the best of my life, of -love, of struggle, of strength, and hope. I grovelled into the pillow -and tried to persuade myself that such hallucination was possible. -Imperceptibly, steadily, the dawn grew clearer. - -At last, despairing of further sleep, I sat up in bed and looked -about me. A chill twilight rendered the whole chamber visible. It -was spacious and well-furnished, better furnished than any room I -had ever slept in before. A candle and matches became dimly visible -upon a little pedestal in a recess. I threw back the bedclothes, -and, shivering with the rawness of the early morning, albeit it was -summer-time, I got out and lit the candle. Then, trembling horribly, -so that the extinguisher rattled on its spike, I tottered to the glass -and saw--_Elvesham's face!_ It was none the less horrible because I -had already dimly feared as much. He had already seemed physically -weak and pitiful to me, but seen now, dressed only in a coarse flannel -nightdress that fell apart and showed the stringy neck, seen now as -my own body, I cannot describe its desolate decrepitude. The hollow -cheeks, the straggling tail of dirty grey hair, the rheumy bleared -eyes, the quivering, shrivelled lips, the lower displaying a gleam of -the pink interior lining, and those horrible dark gums showing. You -who are mind and body together, at your natural years, cannot imagine -what this fiendish imprisonment meant to me. To be young and full of -the desire and energy of youth, and to be caught, and presently to be -crushed in this tottering ruin of a body.... - -But I wander from the course of my story. For some time I must have -been stunned at this change that had come upon me. It was daylight when -I did so far gather myself together as to think. In some inexplicable -way I had been changed, though how, short of magic, the thing had been -done, I could not say. And as I thought, the diabolical ingenuity of -Elvesham came home to me. It seemed plain to me that as I found myself -in his, so he must be in possession of _my_ body, of my strength, that -is, and my future. But how to prove it? Then, as I thought, the thing -became so incredible, even to me, that my mind reeled, and I had to -pinch myself, to feel my toothless gums, to see myself in the glass, -and touch the things about me, before I could steady myself to face the -facts again. Was all life hallucination? Was I indeed Elvesham, and he -me? Had I been dreaming of Eden overnight? Was there any Eden? But if -I was Elvesham, I should remember where I was on the previous morning, -the name of the town in which I lived, what happened before the dream -began. I struggled with my thoughts. I recalled the queer doubleness of -my memories overnight. But now my mind was clear. Not the ghost of any -memories but those proper to Eden could I raise. - -"This way lies insanity!" I cried in my piping voice. I staggered to my -feet, dragged my feeble, heavy limbs to the washhand-stand, and plunged -my grey head into a basin of cold water. Then, towelling myself, I -tried again. It was no good. I felt beyond all question that I was -indeed Eden, not Elvesham. But Eden in Elvesham's body! - -Had I been a man of any other age, I might have given myself up to my -fate as one enchanted. But in these sceptical days miracles do not pass -current. Here was some trick of psychology. What a drug and a steady -stare could do, a drug and a steady stare, or some similar treatment, -could surely undo. Men have lost their memories before. But to exchange -memories as one does umbrellas! I laughed. Alas! not a healthy laugh, -but a wheezing, senile titter. I could have fancied old Elvesham -laughing at my plight, and a gust of petulant anger, unusual to me, -swept across my feelings. I began dressing eagerly in the clothes I -found lying about on the floor, and only realised when I was dressed -that it was an evening suit I had assumed. I opened the wardrobe -and found some more ordinary clothes, a pair of plaid trousers, and -an old-fashioned dressing-gown. I put a venerable smoking-cap on my -venerable head, and, coughing a little from my exertions, tottered out -upon the landing. - -It was then, perhaps, a quarter to six, and the blinds were closely -drawn and the house quite silent. The landing was a spacious one, a -broad, richly-carpeted staircase went down into the darkness of the -hall below, and before me a door ajar showed me a writing-desk, a -revolving bookcase, the back of a study chair, and a fine array of -bound books, shelf upon shelf. - -"My study," I mumbled, and walked across the landing. Then at the sound -of my voice a thought struck me, and I went back to the bedroom and put -in the set of false teeth. They slipped in with the ease of old habit. -"That's better," said I, gnashing them, and so returned to the study. - -The drawers of the writing-desk were locked. Its revolving top was also -locked. I could see no indications of the keys, and there were none in -the pockets of my trousers. I shuffled back at once to the bedroom, -and went through the dress suit, and afterwards the pockets of all the -garments I could find. I was very eager, and one might have imagined -that burglars had been at work, to see my room when I had done. Not -only were there no keys to be found, but not a coin, nor a scrap of -paper--save only the receipted bill of the overnight dinner. - -A curious weariness asserted itself. I sat down and stared at the -garments flung here and there, their pockets turned inside out. My -first frenzy had already flickered out. Every moment I was beginning -to realise the immense intelligence of the plans of my enemy, to see -more and more clearly the hopelessness of my position. With an effort I -rose and hurried hobbling into the study again. On the staircase was a -housemaid pulling up the blinds. She stared, I think, at the expression -of my face. I shut the door of the study behind me, and, seizing a -poker, began an attack upon the desk. That is how they found me. The -cover of the desk was split, the lock smashed, the letters torn out of -the pigeon-holes and tossed about the room. In my senile rage I had -flung about the pens and other such light stationery, and overturned -the ink. Moreover, a large vase upon the mantel had got broken--I do -not know how. I could find no cheque-book, no money, no indications of -the slightest use for the recovery of my body. I was battering madly at -the drawers, when the butler, backed by two women-servants, intruded -upon me. - - * * * * * - -That simply is the story of my change. No one will believe my frantic -assertions. I am treated as one demented, and even at this moment I -am under restraint. But I am sane, absolutely sane, and to prove it I -have sat down to write this story minutely as the things happened to -me. I appeal to the reader, whether there is any trace of insanity in -the style or method of the story he has been reading. I am a young man -locked away in an old man's body. But the clear fact is incredible to -everyone. Naturally I appear demented to those who will not believe -this, naturally I do not know the names of my secretaries, of the -doctors who come to see me, of my servants and neighbours, of this -town (wherever it is) where I find myself. Naturally I lose myself in -my own house, and suffer inconveniences of every sort. Naturally I ask -the oddest questions. Naturally I weep and cry out, and have paroxysms -of despair. I have no money and no cheque-book. The bank will not -recognise my signature, for I suppose that, allowing for the feeble -muscles I now have, my handwriting is still Eden's. These people about -me will not let me go to the bank personally. It seems, indeed, that -there is no bank in this town, and that I have an account in some part -of London. It seems that Elvesham kept the name of his solicitor secret -from all his household--I can ascertain nothing. Elvesham was, of -course, a profound student of mental science, and all my declarations -of the facts of the case merely confirm the theory that my insanity -is the outcome of overmuch brooding upon psychology. Dreams of the -personal identity indeed! Two days ago I was a healthy youngster, -with all life before me; now I am a furious old man, unkempt, and -desperate, and miserable, prowling about a great luxurious strange -house, watched, feared, and avoided as a lunatic by everyone about me. -And in London is Elvesham beginning life again in a vigorous body, and -with all the accumulated knowledge and wisdom of threescore and ten. He -has stolen my life. - -What has happened I do not clearly know. In the study are volumes -of manuscript notes referring chiefly to the psychology of memory, -and parts of what may be either calculations or ciphers in symbols -absolutely strange to me. In some passages there are indications that -he was also occupied with the philosophy of mathematics. I take it he -has transferred the whole of his memories, the accumulation that makes -up his personality, from this old withered brain of his to mine, and, -similarly, that he has transferred mine to his discarded tenement. -Practically, that is, he has changed bodies. But how such a change -may be possible is without the range of my philosophy. I have been a -materialist for all my thinking life, but here, suddenly, is a clear -case of man's detachability from matter. - -One desperate experiment I am about to try. I sit writing here -before putting the matter to issue. This morning, with the help of a -table-knife that I had secreted at breakfast, I succeeded in breaking -open a fairly obvious secret drawer in this wrecked writing-desk. I -discovered nothing save a little green glass phial containing a white -powder. Round the neck of the phial was a label, and thereon was -written this one word, "_Release_." This may be--is most probably, -poison. I can understand Elvesham placing poison in my way, and I -should be sure that it was his intention so to get rid of the only -living witness against him, were it not for this careful concealment. -The man has practically solved the problem of immortality. Save for the -spite of chance, he will live in my body until it has aged, and then, -again, throwing that aside, he will assume some other victim's youth -and strength. When one remembers his heartlessness, it is terrible to -think of the ever-growing experience, that.... How long has he been -leaping from body to body?... But I tire of writing. The powder appears -to be soluble in water. The taste is not unpleasant. - - * * * * * - -There the narrative found upon Mr. Elvesham's desk ends. His dead body -lay between the desk and the chair. The latter had been pushed back, -probably by his last convulsions. The story was written in pencil, -and in a crazy hand, quite unlike his usual minute characters. There -remain only two curious facts to record. Indisputably there was some -connection between Eden and Elvesham, since the whole of Elvesham's -property was bequeathed to the young man. But he never inherited. When -Elvesham committed suicide, Eden was, strangely enough, already dead. -Twenty-four hours before, he had been knocked down by a cab and killed -instantly, at the crowded crossing at the intersection of Gower Street -and Euston Road. So that the only human being who could have thrown -light upon this fantastic narrative is beyond the reach of questions. -Without further comment I leave this extraordinary matter to the -reader's individual judgment. - - - - -IN THE ABYSS - - -The lieutenant stood in front of the steel sphere and gnawed a piece of -pine splinter. "What do you think of it, Steevens?" he asked. - -"It's an idea," said Steevens, in the tone of one who keeps an open -mind. - -"I believe it will smash--flat," said the lieutenant. - -"He seems to have calculated it all out pretty well," said Steevens, -still impartial. - -"But think of the pressure," said the lieutenant. "At the surface -of the water it's fourteen pounds to the inch, thirty feet down -it's double that; sixty, treble; ninety, four times; nine hundred, -forty times; five thousand, three hundred--that's a mile--it's two -hundred and forty times fourteen pounds; that's--let's see--thirty -hundredweight--a ton and a half, Steevens; _a ton and a half_ to the -square inch. And the ocean where he's going is five miles deep. That's -seven and a half"-- - -"Sounds a lot," said Steevens, "but it's jolly thick steel." - -The lieutenant made no answer, but resumed his pine splinter. The -object of their conversation was a huge ball of steel, having an -exterior diameter of perhaps nine feet. It looked like the shot -for some Titanic piece of artillery. It was elaborately nested in a -monstrous scaffolding built into the framework of the vessel, and -the gigantic spars that were presently to sling it overboard gave -the stern of the ship an appearance that had raised the curiosity -of every decent sailor who had sighted it, from the Pool of London -to the Tropic of Capricorn. In two places, one above the other, the -steel gave place to a couple of circular windows of enormously thick -glass, and one of these, set in a steel frame of great solidity, was -now partially unscrewed. Both the men had seen the interior of this -globe for the first time that morning. It was elaborately padded with -air cushions, with little studs sunk between bulging pillows to work -the simple mechanism of the affair. Everything was elaborately padded, -even the Myers apparatus which was to absorb carbonic acid and replace -the oxygen inspired by its tenant, when he had crept in by the glass -manhole, and had been screwed in. It was so elaborately padded that a -man might have been fired from a gun in it with perfect safety. And it -had need to be, for presently a man was to crawl in through that glass -manhole, to be screwed up tightly, and to be flung overboard, and to -sink down--down--down, for five miles, even as the lieutenant said. It -had taken the strongest hold of his imagination; it made him a bore at -mess; and he found Steevens, the new arrival aboard, a godsend to talk -to about it, over and over again. - -"It's my opinion," said the lieutenant, "that that glass will simply -bend in and bulge and smash, under a pressure of that sort. Daubrée -has made rocks run like water under big pressures--and, you mark my -words"-- - -"If the glass did break in," said Steevens, "what then?" - -"The water would shoot in like a jet of iron. Have you ever felt a -straight jet of high pressure water? It would hit as hard as a bullet. -It would simply smash him and flatten him. It would tear down his -throat, and into his lungs; it would blow in his ears"-- - -"What a detailed imagination you have!" protested Steevens, who saw -things vividly. - -"It's a simple statement of the inevitable," said the lieutenant. - -"And the globe?" - -"Would just give out a few little bubbles, and it would settle down -comfortably against the day of judgment, among the oozes and the bottom -clay--with poor Elstead spread over his own smashed cushions like -butter over bread." - -He repeated this sentence as though he liked it very much. "Like butter -over bread," he said. - -"Having a look at the jigger?" said a voice, and Elstead stood behind -them, spick and span in white, with a cigarette between his teeth, -and his eyes smiling out of the shadow of his ample hat-brim. "What's -that about bread and butter, Weybridge? Grumbling as usual about the -insufficient pay of naval officers? It won't be more than a day now -before I start. We are to get the slings ready to-day. This clean sky -and gentle swell is just the kind of thing for swinging off a dozen -tons of lead and iron; isn't it?" - -"It won't affect you much," said Weybridge. - -"No. Seventy or eighty feet down, and I shall be there in a dozen -seconds, there's not a particle moving, though the wind shriek itself -hoarse up above, and the water lifts halfway to the clouds. No. Down -there"-- He moved to the side of the ship and the other two followed -him. All three leant forward on their elbows and stared down into the -yellow-green water. - -"_Peace_," said Elstead, finishing his thought aloud. - -"Are you dead certain that clockwork will act?" asked Weybridge -presently. - -"It has worked thirty-five times," said Elstead. "It's bound to work." - -"But if it doesn't?" - -"Why shouldn't it?" - -"I wouldn't go down in that confounded thing," said Weybridge, "for -twenty thousand pounds." - -"Cheerful chap you are," said Elstead, and spat sociably at a bubble -below. - -"I don't understand yet how you mean to work the thing," said Steevens. - -"In the first place, I'm screwed into the sphere," said Elstead, "and -when I've turned the electric light off and on three times to show I'm -cheerful, I'm swung out over the stern by that crane, with all those -big lead sinkers slung below me. The top lead weight has a roller -carrying a hundred fathoms of strong cord rolled up, and that's all -that joins the sinkers to the sphere, except the slings that will be -cut when the affair is dropped. We use cord rather than wire rope -because it's easier to cut and more buoyant--necessary points, as you -will see. - -"Through each of these lead weights you notice there is a hole, and -an iron rod will be run through that and will project six feet on the -lower side. If that rod is rammed up from below, it knocks up a lever -and sets the clockwork in motion at the side of the cylinder on which -the cord winds. - -"Very well. The whole affair is lowered gently into the water, and the -slings are cut. The sphere floats,--with the air in it, it's lighter -than water,--but the lead weights go down straight and the cord runs -out. When the cord is all paid out, the sphere will go down too, pulled -down by the cord." - -"But why the cord?" asked Steevens. "Why not fasten the weights -directly to the sphere?" - -"Because of the smash down below. The whole affair will go rushing -down, mile after mile, at a headlong pace at last. It would be knocked -to pieces on the bottom if it wasn't for that cord. But the weights -will hit the bottom, and directly they do, the buoyancy of the sphere -will come into play. It will go on sinking slower and slower; come to a -stop at last, and then begin to float upward again. - -"That's where the clockwork comes in. Directly the weights smash -against the sea bottom, the rod will be knocked through and will kick -up the clockwork, and the cord will be rewound on the reel. I shall be -lugged down to the sea bottom. There I shall stay for half an hour, -with the electric light on, looking about me. Then the clockwork -will release a spring knife, the cord will be cut, and up I shall -rush again, like a soda-water bubble. The cord itself will help the -flotation." - -"And if you should chance to hit a ship?" said Weybridge. - -"I should come up at such a pace, I should go clean through it," said -Elstead, "like a cannon ball. You needn't worry about that." - -"And suppose some nimble crustacean should wriggle into your -clockwork"-- - -"It would be a pressing sort of invitation for me to stop," said -Elstead, turning his back on the water and staring at the sphere. - - * * * * * - -They had swung Elstead overboard by eleven o'clock. The day was -serenely bright and calm, with the horizon lost in haze. The electric -glare in the little upper compartment beamed cheerfully three times. -Then they let him down slowly to the surface of the water, and a sailor -in the stern chains hung ready to cut the tackle that held the lead -weights and the sphere together. The globe, which had looked so large -on deck, looked the smallest thing conceivable under the stern of the -ship. It rolled a little, and its two dark windows, which floated -uppermost, seemed like eyes turned up in round wonderment at the people -who crowded the rail. A voice wondered how Elstead liked the rolling. -"Are you ready?" sang out the commander. "Ay, ay, sir!" "Then let her -go!" - -The rope of the tackle tightened against the blade and was cut, and an -eddy rolled over the globe in a grotesquely helpless fashion. Someone -waved a handkerchief, someone else tried an ineffectual cheer, a middy -was counting slowly, "Eight, nine, ten!" Another roll, then with a jerk -and a splash the thing righted itself. - -It seemed to be stationary for a moment, to grow rapidly smaller, and -then the water closed over it, and it became visible, enlarged by -refraction and dimmer, below the surface. Before one could count three -it had disappeared. There was a flicker of white light far down in the -water, that diminished to a speck and vanished. Then there was nothing -but a depth of water going down into blackness, through which a shark -was swimming. - -Then suddenly the screw of the cruiser began to rotate, the water was -crickled, the shark disappeared in a wrinkled confusion, and a torrent -of foam rushed across the crystalline clearness that had swallowed up -Elstead. "What's the idee?" said one A.B. to another. - -"We're going to lay off about a couple of miles, 'fear he should hit us -when he comes up," said his mate. - -The ship steamed slowly to her new position. Aboard her almost everyone -who was unoccupied remained watching the breathing swell into which -the sphere had sunk. For the next half-hour it is doubtful if a word -was spoken that did not bear directly or indirectly on Elstead. The -December sun was now high in the sky, and the heat very considerable. - -"He'll be cold enough down there," said Weybridge. "They say that below -a certain depth sea water's always just about freezing." - -"Where'll he come up?" asked Steevens. "I've lost my bearings." - -"That's the spot," said the commander, who prided himself on his -omniscience. He extended a precise finger south-eastward. "And this, I -reckon, is pretty nearly the moment," he said. "He's been thirty-five -minutes." - -"How long does it take to reach the bottom of the ocean?" asked -Steevens. - -"For a depth of five miles, and reckoning--as we did--an acceleration -of two feet per second, both ways, is just about three-quarters of a -minute." - -"Then he's overdue," said Weybridge. - -"Pretty nearly," said the commander. "I suppose it takes a few minutes -for that cord of his to wind in." - -"I forgot that," said Weybridge, evidently relieved. - -And then began the suspense. A minute slowly dragged itself out, and no -sphere shot out of the water. Another followed, and nothing broke the -low oily swell. The sailors explained to one another that little point -about the winding-in of the cord. The rigging was dotted with expectant -faces. "Come up, Elstead!" called one hairy-chested salt impatiently, -and the others caught it up, and shouted as though they were waiting -for the curtain of a theatre to rise. - -The commander glanced irritably at them. - -"Of course, if the acceleration's less than two," he said, "he'll -be all the longer. We aren't absolutely certain that was the proper -figure. I'm no slavish believer in calculations." - -Steevens agreed concisely. No one on the quarter-deck spoke for a -couple of minutes. Then Steevens' watchcase clicked. - -When, twenty-one minutes after, the sun reached the zenith, they were -still waiting for the globe to reappear, and not a man aboard had -dared to whisper that hope was dead. It was Weybridge who first gave -expression to that realisation. He spoke while the sound of eight bells -still hung in the air. "I always distrusted that window," he said quite -suddenly to Steevens. - -"Good God!" said Steevens; "you don't think--?" - -"Well!" said Weybridge, and left the rest to his imagination. - -"I'm no great believer in calculations myself," said the commander -dubiously, "so that I'm not altogether hopeless yet." And at midnight -the gunboat was steaming slowly in a spiral round the spot where -the globe had sunk, and the white beam of the electric light fled -and halted and swept discontentedly onward again over the waste of -phosphorescent waters under the little stars. - -"If his window hasn't burst and smashed him," said Weybridge, "then -it's a cursed sight worse, for his clockwork has gone wrong, and he's -alive now, five miles under our feet, down there in the cold and dark, -anchored in that little bubble of his, where never a ray of light has -shone or a human being lived, since the waters were gathered together. -He's there without food, feeling hungry and thirsty and scared, -wondering whether he'll starve or stifle. Which will it be? The Myers -apparatus is running out, I suppose. How long do they last?" - -"Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "what little things we are! What daring -little devils! Down there, miles and miles of water--all water, and -all this empty water about us and this sky. Gulfs!" He threw his hands -out, and as he did so, a little white streak swept noiselessly up the -sky, travelled more slowly, stopped, became a motionless dot, as though -a new star had fallen up into the sky. Then it went sliding back again -and lost itself amidst the reflections of the stars and the white haze -of the sea's phosphorescence. - -At the sight he stopped, arm extended and mouth open. He shut his -mouth, opened it again, and waved his arms with an impatient gesture. -Then he turned, shouted "El-stead ahoy!" to the first watch, and -went at a run to Lindley and the search-light. "I saw him," he said. -"Starboard there! His light's on, and he's just shot out of the water. -Bring the light round. We ought to see him drifting, when he lifts on -the swell." - -But they never picked up the explorer until dawn. Then they almost ran -him down. The crane was swung out and a boat's crew hooked the chain -to the sphere. When they had shipped the sphere, they unscrewed the -manhole and peered into the darkness of the interior (for the electric -light chamber was intended to illuminate the water about the sphere, -and was shut off entirely from its general cavity). - -The air was very hot within the cavity, and the indiarubber at the lip -of the manhole was soft. There was no answer to their eager questions -and no sound of movement within. Elstead seemed to be lying motionless, -crumpled up in the bottom of the globe. The ship's doctor crawled in -and lifted him out to the men outside. For a moment or so they did not -know whether Elstead was alive or dead. His face, in the yellow light -of the ship's lamps, glistened with perspiration. They carried him down -to his own cabin. - -He was not dead, they found, but in a state of absolute nervous -collapse, and besides cruelly bruised. For some days he had to lie -perfectly still. It was a week before he could tell his experiences. - -Almost his first words were that he was going down again. The sphere -would have to be altered, he said, in order to allow him to throw off -the cord if need be, and that was all. He had had the most marvellous -experience. "You thought I should find nothing but ooze," he said. "You -laughed at my explorations, and I've discovered a new world!" He told -his story in disconnected fragments, and chiefly from the wrong end, so -that it is impossible to re-tell it in his words. But what follows is -the narrative of his experience. - -It began atrociously, he said. Before the cord ran out, the thing kept -rolling over. He felt like a frog in a football. He could see nothing -but the crane and the sky overhead, with an occasional glimpse of the -people on the ship's rail. He couldn't tell a bit which way the thing -would roll next. Suddenly he would find his feet going up, and try to -step, and over he went rolling, head over heels, and just anyhow, on -the padding. Any other shape would have been more comfortable, but -no other shape was to be relied upon under the huge pressure of the -nethermost abyss. - -Suddenly the swaying ceased; the globe righted, and when he had -picked himself up, he saw the water all about him greeny-blue, with -an attenuated light filtering down from above, and a shoal of little -floating things went rushing up past him, as it seemed to him, towards -the light. And even as he looked, it grew darker and darker, until -the water above was as dark as the midnight sky, albeit of a greener -shade, and the water below black. And little transparent things in the -water developed a faint glint of luminosity, and shot past him in faint -greenish streaks. - -And the feeling of falling! It was just like the start of a lift, he -said, only it kept on. One has to imagine what that means, that keeping -on. It was then of all times that Elstead repented of his adventure. He -saw the chances against him in an altogether new light. He thought of -the big cuttlefish people knew to exist in the middle waters, the kind -of things they find half digested in whales at times, or floating dead -and rotten and half eaten by fish. Suppose one caught hold and wouldn't -let go. And had the clockwork really been sufficiently tested? But -whether he wanted to go on or to go back mattered not the slightest now. - -In fifty seconds everything was as black as night outside, except where -the beam from his light struck through the waters, and picked out every -now and then some fish or scrap of sinking matter. They flashed by too -fast for him to see what they were. Once he thinks he passed a shark. -And then the sphere began to get hot by friction against the water. -They had underestimated this, it seems. - -The first thing he noticed was that he was perspiring, and then he -heard a hissing growing louder under his feet, and saw a lot of little -bubbles--very little bubbles they were--rushing upward like a fan -through the water outside. Steam! He felt the window, and it was hot. -He turned on the minute glow-lamp that lit his own cavity, looked at -the padded watch by the studs, and saw he had been travelling now for -two minutes. It came into his head that the window would crack through -the conflict of temperatures, for he knew the bottom water is very near -freezing. - -Then suddenly the floor of the sphere seemed to press against his feet, -the rush of bubbles outside grew slower and slower, and the hissing -diminished. The sphere rolled a little. The window had not cracked, -nothing had given, and he knew that the dangers of sinking, at anyrate, -were over. - -In another minute or so he would be on the floor of the abyss. He -thought, he said, of Steevens and Weybridge and the rest of them five -miles overhead, higher to him than the very highest clouds that ever -floated over land are to us, steaming slowly and staring down and -wondering what had happened to him. - -He peered out of the window. There were no more bubbles now, and the -hissing had stopped. Outside there was a heavy blackness--as black as -black velvet--except where the electric light pierced the empty water -and showed the colour of it--a yellow-green. Then three things like -shapes of fire swam into sight, following each other through the water. -Whether they were little and near or big and far off he could not tell. - -Each was outlined in a bluish light almost as bright as the lights of -a fishing smack, a light which seemed to be smoking greatly, and all -along the sides of them were specks of this, like the lighter portholes -of a ship. Their phosphorescence seemed to go out as they came into -the radiance of his lamp, and he saw then that they were little fish -of some strange sort, with huge heads, vast eyes, and dwindling bodies -and tails. Their eyes were turned towards him, and he judged they were -following him down. He supposed they were attracted by his glare. - -Presently others of the same sort joined them. As he went on down, -he noticed that the water became of a pallid colour, and that little -specks twinkled in his ray like motes in a sunbeam. This was probably -due to the clouds of ooze and mud that the impact of his leaden sinkers -had disturbed. - -By the time he was drawn down to the lead weights he was in a dense fog -of white that his electric light failed altogether to pierce for more -than a few yards, and many minutes elapsed before the hanging sheets -of sediment subsided to any extent. Then, lit by his light and by the -transient phosphorescence of a distant shoal of fishes, he was able to -see under the huge blackness of the super-incumbent water an undulating -expanse of greyish-white ooze, broken here and there by tangled -thickets of a growth of sea lilies, waving hungry tentacles in the air. - -Farther away were the graceful, translucent outlines of a group of -gigantic sponges. About this floor there were scattered a number of -bristling flattish tufts of rich purple and black, which he decided -must be some sort of sea-urchin, and small, large-eyed or blind things -having a curious resemblance, some to woodlice, and others to lobsters, -crawled sluggishly across the track of the light and vanished into the -obscurity again, leaving furrowed trails behind them. - -Then suddenly the hovering swarm of little fishes veered about and came -towards him as a flight of starlings might do. They passed over him -like a phosphorescent snow, and then he saw behind them some larger -creature advancing towards the sphere. - -At first he could see it only dimly, a faintly moving figure remotely -suggestive of a walking man, and then it came into the spray of light -that the lamp shot out. As the glare struck it, it shut its eyes, -dazzled. He stared in rigid astonishment. - -It was a strange vertebrated animal. Its dark purple head was dimly -suggestive of a chameleon, but it had such a high forehead and such a -braincase as no reptile ever displayed before; the vertical pitch of -its face gave it a most extraordinary resemblance to a human being. - -Two large and protruding eyes projected from sockets in chameleon -fashion, and it had a broad reptilian mouth with horny lips beneath its -little nostrils. In the position of the ears were two huge gill-covers, -and out of these floated a branching tree of coralline filaments, -almost like the tree-like gills that very young rays and sharks possess. - -But the humanity of the face was not the most extraordinary thing about -the creature. It was a biped; its almost globular body was poised on a -tripod of two frog-like legs and a long thick tail, and its fore limbs, -which grotesquely caricatured the human hand, much as a frog's do, -carried a long shaft of bone, tipped with copper. The colour of the -creature was variegated; its head, hands, and legs were purple; but -its skin, which hung loosely upon it, even as clothes might do, was a -phosphorescent grey. And it stood there blinded by the light. - -At last this unknown creature of the abyss blinked its eyes open, -and, shading them with its disengaged hand, opened its mouth and gave -vent to a shouting noise, articulate almost as speech might be, that -penetrated even the steel case and padded jacket of the sphere. How a -shouting may be accomplished without lungs Elstead does not profess to -explain. It then moved sideways out of the glare into the mystery of -shadow that bordered it on either side, and Elstead felt rather than -saw that it was coming towards him. Fancying the light had attracted -it, he turned the switch that cut off the current. In another moment -something soft dabbed upon the steel, and the globe swayed. - -Then the shouting was repeated, and it seemed to him that a distant -echo answered it. The dabbing recurred, and the globe swayed and ground -against the spindle over which the wire was rolled. He stood in the -blackness and peered out into the everlasting night of the abyss. -And presently he saw, very faint and remote, other phosphorescent -quasi-human forms hurrying towards him. - -Hardly knowing what he did, he felt about in his swaying prison for -the stud of the exterior electric light, and came by accident against -his own small glow-lamp in its padded recess. The sphere twisted, and -then threw him down; he heard shouts like shouts of surprise, and when -he rose to his feet, he saw two pairs of stalked eyes peering into the -lower window and reflecting his light. - -In another moment hands were dabbing vigorously at his steel casing, -and there was a sound, horrible enough in his position, of the metal -protection of the clockwork being vigorously hammered. That, indeed, -sent his heart into his mouth, for if these strange creatures succeeded -in stopping that, his release would never occur. Scarcely had he -thought as much when he felt the sphere sway violently, and the floor -of it press hard against his feet. He turned off the small glow-lamp -that lit the interior, and sent the ray of the large light in the -separate compartment out into the water. The sea-floor and the man-like -creatures had disappeared, and a couple of fish chasing each other -dropped suddenly by the window. - -He thought at once that these strange denizens of the deep sea had -broken the rope, and that he had escaped. He drove up faster and -faster, and then stopped with a jerk that sent him flying against the -padded roof of his prison. For half a minute, perhaps, he was too -astonished to think. - -Then he felt that the sphere was spinning slowly, and rocking, and -it seemed to him that it was also being drawn through the water. By -crouching close to the window, he managed to make his weight effective -and roll that part of the sphere downward, but he could see nothing -save the pale ray of his light striking down ineffectively into the -darkness. It occurred to him that he would see more if he turned the -lamp off, and allowed his eyes to grow accustomed to the profound -obscurity. - -In this he was wise. After some minutes the velvety blackness became a -translucent blackness, and then, far away, and as faint as the zodiacal -light of an English summer evening, he saw shapes moving below. He -judged these creatures had detached his cable, and were towing him -along the sea bottom. - -And then he saw something faint and remote across the undulations of -the submarine plain, a broad horizon of pale luminosity that extended -this way and that way as far as the range of his little window -permitted him to see. To this he was being towed, as a balloon might be -towed by men out of the open country into a town. He approached it very -slowly, and very slowly the dim irradiation was gathered together into -more definite shapes. - -It was nearly five o'clock before he came over this luminous area, and -by that time he could make out an arrangement suggestive of streets -and houses grouped about a vast roofless erection that was grotesquely -suggestive of a ruined abbey. It was spread out like a map below him. -The houses were all roofless enclosures of walls, and their substance -being, as he afterwards saw, of phosphorescent bones, gave the place an -appearance as if it were built of drowned moonshine. - -Among the inner caves of the place waving trees of crinoid stretched -their tentacles, and tall, slender, glassy sponges shot like shining -minarets and lilies of filmy light out of the general glow of the -city. In the open spaces of the place he could see a stirring movement -as of crowds of people, but he was too many fathoms above them to -distinguish the individuals in those crowds. - -Then slowly they pulled him down, and as they did so, the details of -the place crept slowly upon his apprehension. He saw that the courses -of the cloudy buildings were marked out with beaded lines of round -objects, and then he perceived that at several points below him, in -broad open spaces, were forms like the encrusted shapes of ships. - -Slowly and surely he was drawn down, and the forms below him became -brighter, clearer, more distinct. He was being pulled down, he -perceived, towards the large building in the centre of the town, and he -could catch a glimpse ever and again of the multitudinous forms that -were lugging at his cord. He was astonished to see that the rigging of -one of the ships, which formed such a prominent feature of the place, -was crowded with a host of gesticulating figures regarding him, and -then the walls of the great building rose about him silently, and hid -the city from his eyes. - -And such walls they were, of water-logged wood, and twisted wire-rope, -and iron spars, and copper, and the bones and skulls of dead men. The -skulls ran in zigzag lines and spirals and fantastic curves over the -building; and in and out of their eye-sockets, and over the whole -surface of the place, lurked and played a multitude of silvery little -fishes. - -Suddenly his ears were filled with a low shouting and a noise like the -violent blowing of horns, and this gave place to a fantastic chant. -Down the sphere sank, past the huge pointed windows, through which he -saw vaguely a great number of these strange, ghostlike people regarding -him, and at last he came to rest, as it seemed, on a kind of altar that -stood in the centre of the place. - -And now he was at such a level that he could see these strange people -of the abyss plainly once more. To his astonishment, he perceived that -they were prostrating themselves before him, all save one, dressed as -it seemed in a robe of placoid scales, and crowned with a luminous -diadem, who stood with his reptilian mouth opening and shutting, as -though he led the chanting of the worshippers. - -A curious impulse made Elstead turn on his small glow-lamp again, so -that he became visible to these creatures of the abyss, albeit the -glare made them disappear forthwith into night. At this sudden sight -of him, the chanting gave place to a tumult of exultant shouts; and -Elstead, being anxious to watch them, turned his light off again, and -vanished from before their eyes. But for a time he was too blind to -make out what they were doing, and when at last he could distinguish -them, they were kneeling again. And thus they continued worshipping -him, without rest or intermission, for the space of three hours. - -Most circumstantial was Elstead's account of this astounding city and -its people, these people of perpetual night, who have never seen sun -or moon or stars, green vegetation, nor any living, air-breathing -creatures, who know nothing of fire, nor any light but the -phosphorescent light of living things. - -Startling as is his story, it is yet more startling to find that -scientific men, of such eminence as Adams and Jenkins, find nothing -incredible in it. They tell me they see no reason why intelligent, -water-breathing, vertebrated creatures, inured to a low temperature and -enormous pressure, and of such a heavy structure, that neither alive -nor dead would they float, might not live upon the bottom of the deep -sea, and quite unsuspected by us, descendants like ourselves of the -great Theriomorpha of the New Red Sandstone age. - -We should be known to them, however, as strange, meteoric creatures, -wont to fall catastrophically dead out of the mysterious blackness of -their watery sky. And not only we ourselves, but our ships, our metals, -our appliances, would come raining down out of the night. Sometimes -sinking things would smite down and crush them, as if it were the -judgment of some unseen power above, and sometimes would come things of -the utmost rarity or utility, or shapes of inspiring suggestion. One -can understand, perhaps, something of their behaviour at the descent of -a living man, if one thinks what a barbaric people might do, to whom an -enhaloed, shining creature came suddenly out of the sky. - -At one time or another Elstead probably told the officers of the -_Ptarmigan_ every detail of his strange twelve hours in the abyss. That -he also intended to write them down is certain, but he never did, and -so unhappily we have to piece together the discrepant fragments of his -story from the reminiscences of Commander Simmons, Weybridge, Steevens, -Lindley, and the others. - -We see the thing darkly in fragmentary glimpses--the huge ghostly -building, the bowing, chanting people, with their dark chameleon-like -heads and faintly luminous clothing, and Elstead, with his light turned -on again, vainly trying to convey to their minds that the cord by which -the sphere was held was to be severed. Minute after minute slipped -away, and Elstead, looking at his watch, was horrified to find that he -had oxygen only for four hours more. But the chant in his honour kept -on as remorselessly as if it was the marching song of his approaching -death. - -The manner of his release he does not understand, but to judge by the -end of cord that hung from the sphere, it had been cut through by -rubbing against the edge of the altar. Abruptly the sphere rolled over, -and he swept up, out of their world, as an ethereal creature clothed -in a vacuum would sweep through our own atmosphere back to its native -ether again. He must have torn out of their sight as a hydrogen bubble -hastens upward from our air. A strange ascension it must have seemed to -them. - -The sphere rushed up with even greater velocity than, when weighted -with the lead sinkers, it had rushed down. It became exceedingly hot. -It drove up with the windows uppermost, and he remembers the torrent of -bubbles frothing against the glass. Every moment he expected this to -fly. Then suddenly something like a huge wheel seemed to be released -in his head, the padded compartment began spinning about him, and he -fainted. His next recollection was of his cabin, and of the doctor's -voice. - -But that is the substance of the extraordinary story that Elstead -related in fragments to the officers of the _Ptarmigan_. He promised to -write it all down at a later date. His mind was chiefly occupied with -the improvement of his apparatus, which was effected at Rio. - -It remains only to tell that on February 2, 1896, he made his second -descent into the ocean abyss, with the improvements his first -experience suggested. What happened we shall probably never know. -He never returned. The _Ptarmigan_ beat about over the point of his -submersion, seeking him in vain for thirteen days. Then she returned to -Rio, and the news was telegraphed to his friends. So the matter remains -for the present. But it is hardly probable that no further attempt -will be made to verify his strange story of these hitherto unsuspected -cities of the deep sea. - - - - -THE APPLE - - -"I must get rid of it," said the man in the corner of the carriage, -abruptly breaking the silence. - -Mr. Hinchcliff looked up, hearing imperfectly. He had been lost in -the rapt contemplation of the college cap tied by a string to his -portmanteau handles--the outward and visible sign of his newly-gained -pedagogic position--in the rapt appreciation of the college cap and -the pleasant anticipations it excited. For Mr. Hinchcliff had just -matriculated at London University, and was going to be junior assistant -at the Holmwood Grammar School--a very enviable position. He stared -across the carriage at his fellow-traveller. - -"Why not give it away?" said this person. "Give it away! Why not?" - -He was a tall, dark, sunburnt man with a pale face. His arms were -folded tightly, and his feet were on the seat in front of him. He was -pulling at a lank black moustache. He stared hard at his toes. - -"Why not?" he said. - -Mr. Hinchcliff coughed. - -The stranger lifted his eyes--they were curious, dark-grey eyes--and -stared blankly at Mr. Hinchcliff for the best part of a minute, -perhaps. His expression grew to interest. - -"Yes," he said slowly. "Why not? And end it." - -"I don't quite follow you, I'm afraid," said Mr. Hinchcliff, with -another cough. - -"You don't quite follow me?" said the stranger quite mechanically, -his singular eyes wandering from Mr. Hinchcliff to the bag with its -ostentatiously displayed cap, and back to Mr. Hinchcliff's downy face. - -"You're so abrupt, you know," apologised Mr Hinchcliff. - -"Why shouldn't I?" said the stranger, following his thoughts. "You are -a student?" he said, addressing Mr. Hinchcliff. - -"I am--by Correspondence--of the London University," said Mr. -Hinchcliff, with irrepressible pride, and feeling nervously at his tie. - -"In pursuit of knowledge," said the stranger, and suddenly took his -feet off the seat, put his fist on his knees, and stared at Mr. -Hinchcliff as though he had never seen a student before. "Yes," he -said, and flung out an index finger. Then he rose, took a bag from -the hat-rack, and unlocked it. Quite silently he drew out something -round and wrapped in a quantity of silver-paper, and unfolded this -carefully. He held it out towards Mr. Hinchcliff--a small, very smooth, -golden-yellow fruit. - -Mr. Hinchcliff's eyes and mouth were open. He did not offer to take -this object--if he was intended to take it. - -"That," said this fantastic stranger, speaking very slowly, "is the -Apple of the Tree of Knowledge. Look at it--small, and bright, and -wonderful--Knowledge--and I am going to give it to you." - -Mr. Hinchcliff's mind worked painfully for a minute, and then -the sufficient explanation, "Mad!" flashed across his brain, and -illuminated the whole situation. One humoured madmen. He put his head a -little on one side. - -"The Apple of the Tree of Knowledge, eigh!" said Mr. Hinchcliff, -regarding it with a finely assumed air of interest, and then looking -at the interlocutor. "But don't you want to eat it yourself? And -besides--how did you come by it?" - -"It never fades. I have had it now three months. And it is ever bright -and smooth and ripe and desirable, as you see it." He laid his hand -on his knee and regarded the fruit musingly. Then he began to wrap it -again in the papers, as though he had abandoned his intention of giving -it away. - -"But how did you come by it?" said Mr. Hinchcliff, who had his -argumentative side. "And how do you know that it _is_ the Fruit of the -Tree?" - -"I bought this fruit," said the stranger, "three months ago--for a -drink of water and a crust of bread. The man who gave it to me--because -I kept the life in him--was an Armenian. Armenia! that wonderful -country, the first of all countries, where the ark of the Flood -remains to this day, buried in the glaciers of Mount Ararat. This man, -I say, fleeing with others from the Kurds who had come upon them, -went up into desolate places among the mountains--places beyond the -common knowledge of men. And fleeing from imminent pursuit, they -came to a slope high among the mountain-peaks, green with a grass -like knife-blades, that cut and slashed most pitilessly at anyone -who went into it. The Kurds were close behind, and there was nothing -for it but to plunge in, and the worst of it was that the paths they -made through it at the price of their blood served for the Kurds to -follow. Every one of the fugitives was killed save this Armenian and -another. He heard the screams and cries of his friends, and the swish -of the grass about those who were pursuing them--it was tall grass -rising overhead. And then a shouting and answers, and when presently he -paused, everything was still. He pushed out again, not understanding, -cut and bleeding, until he came out on a steep slope of rocks below a -precipice, and then he saw the grass was all on fire, and the smoke of -it rose like a veil between him and his enemies." - -The stranger paused. "Yes?" said Mr. Hinchcliff. "Yes?" - -"There he was, all torn and bloody from the knife-blades of the grass, -the rocks blazing under the afternoon sun--the sky molten brass--and -the smoke of the fire driving towards him. He dared not stay there. -Death he did not mind, but torture! Far away beyond the smoke he heard -shouts and cries. Women screaming. So he went clambering up a gorge in -the rocks--everywhere were bushes with dry branches that stuck out like -thorns among the leaves--until he clambered over the brow of a ridge -that hid him. And then he met his companion, a shepherd, who had also -escaped. And, counting cold and famine and thirst as nothing against -the Kurds, they went on into the heights, and among the snow and ice. -They wandered three whole days. - -"The third day came the vision. I suppose hungry men often do see -visions, but then there is this fruit." He lifted the wrapped globe in -his hand. "And I have heard it, too, from other mountaineers who have -known something of the legend. It was in the evening time, when the -stars were increasing, that they came down a slope of polished rock -into a huge dark valley all set about with strange, contorted trees, -and in these trees hung little globes like glow-worm spheres, strange -round yellow lights. - -"Suddenly this valley was lit far away, many miles away, far down it, -with a golden flame marching slowly athwart it, that made the stunted -trees against it black as night, and turned the slopes all about them -and their figures to the likeness of fiery gold. And at the vision -they, knowing the legends of the mountains, instantly knew that it was -Eden they saw, or the sentinel of Eden, and they fell upon their faces -like men struck dead. - -"When they dared to look again the valley was dark for a space, and -then the light came again--returning, a burning amber. - -"At that the shepherd sprang to his feet, and with a shout began to run -down towards the light, but the other man was too fearful to follow -him. He stood stunned, amazed, and terrified, watching his companion -recede towards the marching glare. And hardly had the shepherd set out -when there came a noise like thunder, the beating of invisible wings -hurrying up the valley, and a great and terrible fear; and at that -the man who gave me the fruit turned--if he might still escape. And -hurrying headlong up the slope again, with that tumult sweeping after -him, he stumbled against one of these stunted bushes, and a ripe fruit -came off it into his hand. This fruit. Forthwith, the wings and the -thunder rolled all about him. He fell and fainted, and when he came to -his senses, he was back among the blackened ruins of his own village, -and I and the others were attending to the wounded. A vision? But the -golden fruit of the tree was still clutched in his hand. There were -others there who knew the legend, knew what that strange fruit might -be." He paused. "And this is it," he said. - -It was a most extraordinary story to be told in a third-class carriage -on a Sussex railway. It was as if the real was a mere veil to the -fantastic, and here was the fantastic poking through. "Is it?" was all -Mr. Hinchcliff could say. - -"The legend," said the stranger, "tells that those thickets of dwarfed -trees growing about the garden sprang from the apple that Adam carried -in his hand when he and Eve were driven forth. He felt something in -his hand, saw the half-eaten apple, and flung it petulantly aside. -And there they grow, in that desolate valley, girdled round with the -everlasting snows, and there the fiery swords keep ward against the -Judgment Day." - -"But I thought these things were"--Mr. Hinchcliff -paused--"fables--parables rather. Do you mean to tell me that there in -Armenia"-- - -The stranger answered the unfinished question with the fruit in his -open hand. - -"But you don't know," said Mr. Hinchcliff, "that that _is_ the fruit -of the Tree of Knowledge. The man may have had--a sort of mirage, say. -Suppose"-- - -"Look at it," said the stranger. - -It was certainly a strange-looking globe, not really an apple, Mr. -Hinchcliff saw, and a curious glowing golden colour, almost as though -light itself was wrought into its substance. As he looked at it, he -began to see more vividly the desolate valley among the mountains, the -guarding swords of fire, the strange antiquities of the story he had -just heard. He rubbed a knuckle into his eye. "But"--said he. - -"It has kept like that, smooth and full, three months. Longer than that -it is now by some days. No drying, no withering, no decay." - -"And you yourself," said Mr. Hinchcliff, "really believe that"-- - -"Is the Forbidden Fruit." - -There was no mistaking the earnestness of the man's manner and his -perfect sanity. "The Fruit of Knowledge," he said. - -"Suppose it was?" said Mr. Hinchcliff, after a pause, still staring -at it. "But after all," said Mr. Hinchcliff, "it's not my kind of -knowledge--not the sort of knowledge. I mean, Adam and Eve have eaten -it already." - -"We inherit their sins--not their knowledge," said the stranger. -"That would make it all clear and bright again. We should see -into everything, through everything, into the deepest meaning of -everything"-- - -"Why don't you eat it, then?" said Mr. Hinchcliff, with an inspiration. - -"I took it intending to eat it," said the stranger. "Man has fallen. -Merely to eat again could scarcely"-- - -"Knowledge is power," said Mr. Hinchcliff. - -"But is it happiness? I am older than you--more than twice as old. -Time after time I have held this in my hand, and my heart has -failed me at the thought of all that one might know, that terrible -lucidity-- Suppose suddenly all the world became pitilessly clear?" - -"That, I think, would be a great advantage," said Mr. Hinchcliff, "on -the whole." - -"Suppose you saw into the hearts and minds of everyone about you, into -their most secret recesses--people you loved, whose love you valued?" - -"You'd soon find out the humbugs," said Mr. Hinchcliff, greatly struck -by the idea. - -"And worse--to know yourself, bare of your most intimate illusions. -To see yourself in your place. All that your lusts and weaknesses -prevented your doing. No merciful perspective." - -"That might be an excellent thing too. 'Know thyself,' you know." - -"You are young," said the stranger. - -"If you don't care to eat it, and it bothers you, why don't you throw -it away?" - -"There again, perhaps, you will not understand me. To me, how could one -throw away a thing like that, glowing, wonderful? Once one has it, one -is bound. But, on the other hand, to _give_ it away! To give it away -to someone who thirsted after knowledge, who found no terror in the -thought of that clear perception"-- - -"Of course," said Mr. Hinchcliff thoughtfully, "it might be some sort -of poisonous fruit." - -And then his eye caught something motionless, the end of a white board -black-lettered outside the carriage window. "--MWOOD," he saw. He -started convulsively. "Gracious!" said Mr. Hinchcliff. "Holmwood!"--and -the practical present blotted out the mystic realisations that had been -stealing upon him. - -In another moment he was opening the carriage-door, portmanteau in -hand. The guard was already fluttering his green flag. Mr. Hinchcliff -jumped out. "Here!" said a voice behind him, and he saw the dark eyes -of the stranger shining and the golden fruit, bright and bare, held -out of the open carriage-door. He took it instinctively, the train was -already moving. - -"_No!_" shouted the stranger, and made a snatch at it as if to take it -back. - -"Stand away," cried a country porter, thrusting forward to close the -door. The stranger shouted something Mr. Hinchcliff did not catch, head -and arm thrust excitedly out of the window, and then the shadow of the -bridge fell on him, and in a trice he was hidden. Mr. Hinchcliff stood -astonished, staring at the end of the last waggon receding round the -bend, and with the wonderful fruit in his hand. For the fraction of -a minute his mind was confused, and then he became aware that two or -three people on the platform were regarding him with interest. Was he -not the new Grammar School master making his début? It occurred to him -that, so far as they could tell, the fruit might very well be the naļve -refreshment of an orange. He flushed at the thought, and thrust the -fruit into his side pocket, where it bulged undesirably. But there was -no help for it, so he went towards them, awkwardly concealing his sense -of awkwardness, to ask the way to the Grammar School, and the means of -getting his portmanteau and the two tin boxes which lay up the platform -thither. Of all the odd and fantastic yarns to tell a fellow! - -His luggage could be taken on a truck for sixpence, he found, and he -could precede it on foot. He fancied an ironical note in the voices. He -was painfully aware of his contour. - -The curious earnestness of the man in the train, and the glamour -of the story he told, had, for a time, diverted the current of Mr. -Hinchcliff's thoughts. It drove like a mist before his immediate -concerns. Fires that went to and fro! But the preoccupation of his -new position, and the impression he was to produce upon Holmwood -generally, and the school people in particular, returned upon him with -reinvigorating power before he left the station and cleared his mental -atmosphere. But it is extraordinary what an inconvenient thing the -addition of a soft and rather brightly-golden fruit, not three inches -in diameter, may prove to a sensitive youth on his best appearance. -In the pocket of his black jacket it bulged dreadfully, spoilt the -lines altogether. He passed a little old lady in black, and he felt -her eye drop upon the excrescence at once. He was wearing one glove -and carrying the other, together with his stick, so that to bear the -fruit openly was impossible. In one place, where the road into the -town seemed suitably secluded, he took his encumbrance out of his -pocket and tried it in his hat. It was just too large, the hat wobbled -ludicrously, and just as he was taking it out again, a butcher's boy -came driving round the corner. - -"Confound it!" said Mr. Hinchcliff. - -He would have eaten the thing, and attained omniscience there and -then, but it would seem so silly to go into the town sucking a juicy -fruit--and it certainly felt juicy. If one of the boys should come by, -it might do him a serious injury with his discipline so to be seen. -And the juice might make his face sticky and get upon his cuffs--or it -might be an acid juice as potent as lemon, and take all the colour out -of his clothes. - -Then round a bend in the lane came two pleasant sunlit girlish figures. -They were walking slowly towards the town and chattering--at any -moment they might look round and see a hot-faced young man behind them -carrying a kind of phosphorescent yellow tomato! They would be sure to -laugh. - -"_Hang!_" said Mr. Hinchcliff, and with a swift jerk sent the -encumbrance flying over the stone wall of an orchard that there abutted -on the road. As it vanished, he felt a faint twinge of loss that lasted -scarcely a moment. He adjusted the stick and glove in his hand, and -walked on, erect and self-conscious, to pass the girls. - - * * * * * - -But in the darkness of the night Mr. Hinchcliff had a dream, and saw -the valley, and the flaming swords, and the contorted trees, and knew -that it really was the Apple of the Tree of Knowledge that he had -thrown regardlessly away. And he awoke very unhappy. - -In the morning his regret had passed, but afterwards it returned and -troubled him; never, however, when he was happy or busily occupied. At -last, one moonlight night about eleven, when all Holmwood was quiet, -his regrets returned with redoubled force, and therewith an impulse to -adventure. He slipped out of the house and over the playground wall, -went through the silent town to Station Lane, and climbed into the -orchard where he had thrown the fruit. But nothing was to be found -of it there among the dewy grass and the faint intangible globes of -dandelion down. - - - - -UNDER THE KNIFE - - -"What if I die under it?" The thought recurred again and again, as I -walked home from Haddon's. It was a purely personal question. I was -spared the deep anxieties of a married man, and I knew there were few -of my intimate friends but would find my death troublesome chiefly on -account of their duty of regret. I was surprised indeed, and perhaps -a little humiliated, as I turned the matter over, to think how few -could possibly exceed the conventional requirement. Things came -before me stripped of glamour, in a clear dry light, during that walk -from Haddon's house over Primrose Hill. There were the friends of my -youth: I perceived now that our affection was a tradition, which we -foregathered rather laboriously to maintain. There were the rivals -and helpers of my later career: I suppose I had been cold-blooded or -undemonstrative--one perhaps implies the other. It may be that even the -capacity for friendship is a question of physique. There had been a -time in my own life when I had grieved bitterly enough at the loss of -a friend; but as I walked home that afternoon the emotional side of my -imagination was dormant. I could not pity myself, nor feel sorry for -my friends, nor conceive of them as grieving for me. - -I was interested in this deadness of my emotional nature--no doubt -a concomitant of my stagnating physiology; and my thoughts wandered -off along the line it suggested. Once before, in my hot youth, I -had suffered a sudden loss of blood, and had been within an ace of -death. I remembered now that my affections as well as my passions had -drained out of me, leaving scarce anything but a tranquil resignation, -a dreg of self-pity. It had been weeks before the old ambitions, -and tendernesses, and all the complex moral interplay of a man, had -reasserted themselves. It occurred to me that the real meaning of -this numbness might be a gradual slipping away from the pleasure-pain -guidance of the animal man. It has been proven, I take it, as -thoroughly as anything can be proven in this world, that the higher -emotions, the moral feelings, even the subtle tendernesses of love, are -evolved from the elemental desires and fears of the simple animal: they -are the harness in which man's mental freedom goes. And it may be that, -as death overshadows us, as our possibility of acting diminishes, this -complex growth of balanced impulse, propensity, and aversion, whose -interplay inspires our acts, goes with it. Leaving what? - -I was suddenly brought back to reality by an imminent collision with -a butcher-boy's tray. I found that I was crossing the bridge over the -Regent's Park Canal, which runs parallel with that in the Zoological -Gardens. The boy in blue had been looking over his shoulder at a black -barge advancing slowly, towed by a gaunt white horse. In the Gardens -a nurse was leading three happy little children over the bridge. The -trees were bright green; the spring hopefulness was still unstained by -the dusts of summer; the sky in the water was bright and clear, but -broken by long waves, by quivering bands of black, as the barge drove -through. The breeze was stirring; but it did not stir me as the spring -breeze used to do. - -Was this dulness of feeling in itself an anticipation? It was curious -that I could reason and follow out a network of suggestion as clearly -as ever: so, at least, it seemed to me. It was calmness rather than -dulness that was coming upon me. Was there any ground for the belief in -the presentiment of death? Did a man near to death begin instinctively -to withdraw himself from the meshes of matter and sense, even before -the cold hand was laid upon his? I felt strangely isolated--isolated -without regret--from the life and existence about me. The children -playing in the sun and gathering strength and experience for the -business of life, the park-keeper gossiping with a nursemaid, the -nursing mother, the young couple intent upon each other as they passed -me, the trees by the wayside spreading new pleading leaves to the -sunlight, the stir in their branches--I had been part of it all, but I -had nearly done with it now. - -Some way down the Broad Walk I perceived that I was tired, and that my -feet were heavy. It was hot that afternoon, and I turned aside and sat -down on one of the green chairs that line the way. In a minute I had -dozed into a dream, and the tide of my thoughts washed up a vision -of the resurrection. I was still sitting in the chair, but I thought -myself actually dead, withered, tattered, dried, one eye (I saw) pecked -out by birds. "Awake!" cried a voice; and incontinently the dust of the -path and the mould under the grass became insurgent. I had never before -thought of Regent's Park as a cemetery, but now, through the trees, -stretching as far as eye could see, I beheld a flat plain of writhing -graves and heeling tombstones. There seemed to be some trouble: the -rising dead appeared to stifle as they struggled upward, they bled in -their struggles, the red flesh was tattered away from the white bones. -"Awake!" cried a voice; but I determined I would not rise to such -horrors. "Awake!" They would not let me alone. "Wike up!" said an angry -voice. A cockney angel! The man who sells the tickets was shaking me, -demanding my penny. - -I paid my penny, pocketed my ticket, yawned, stretched my legs, and, -feeling now rather less torpid, got up and walked on towards Langham -Place. I speedily lost myself again in a shifting maze of thoughts -about death. Going across Marylebone Road into that crescent at the end -of Langham Place, I had the narrowest escape from the shaft of a cab, -and went on my way with a palpitating heart and a bruised shoulder. It -struck me that it would have been curious if my meditations on my death -on the morrow had led to my death that day. - -But I will not weary you with more of my experiences that day and -the next. I knew more and more certainly that I should die under the -operation; at times I think I was inclined to pose to myself. The -doctors were coming at eleven, and I did not get up. It seemed scarce -worth while to trouble about washing and dressing, and though I read -my newspapers and the letters that came by the first post, I did not -find them very interesting. There was a friendly note from Addison, -my old school friend, calling my attention to two discrepancies and -a printer's error in my new book, with one from Langridge venting -some vexation over Minton. The rest were business communications. I -breakfasted in bed. The glow of pain at my side seemed more massive. -I knew it was pain, and yet, if you can understand, I did not find it -very painful. I had been awake and hot and thirsty in the night, but in -the morning bed felt comfortable. In the night-time I had lain thinking -of things that were past; in the morning I dozed over the question of -immortality. Haddon came, punctual to the minute, with a neat black -bag; and Mowbray soon followed. Their arrival stirred me up a little. I -began to take a more personal interest in the proceedings. Haddon moved -the little octagonal table close to the bedside, and, with his broad -black back to me, began taking things out of his bag. I heard the light -click of steel upon steel. My imagination, I found, was not altogether -stagnant. "Will you hurt me much?" I said in an off-hand tone. - -"Not a bit," Haddon answered over his shoulder. "We shall chloroform -you. Your heart's as sound as a bell." And as he spoke, I had a whiff -of the pungent sweetness of the anęsthetic. - -They stretched me out, with a convenient exposure of my side, and, -almost before I realised what was happening, the chloroform was being -administered. It stings the nostrils, and there is a suffocating -sensation, at first. I knew I should die--that this was the end of -consciousness for me. And suddenly I felt that I was not prepared for -death: I had a vague sense of a duty overlooked--I knew not what. What -was it I had not done? I could think of nothing more to do, nothing -desirable left in life; and yet I had the strangest disinclination -to death. And the physical sensation was painfully oppressive. Of -course the doctors did not know they were going to kill me. Possibly -I struggled. Then I fell motionless, and a great silence, a monstrous -silence, and an impenetrable blackness came upon me. - -There must have been an interval of absolute unconsciousness, -seconds or minutes. Then, with a chilly, unemotional clearness, I -perceived that I was not yet dead. I was still in my body; but all the -multitudinous sensations that come sweeping from it to make up the -background of consciousness had gone, leaving me free of it all. No, -not free of it all; for as yet something still held me to the poor -stark flesh upon the bed--held me, yet not so closely that I did not -feel myself external to it, independent of it, straining away from it. -I do not think I saw, I do not think I heard; but I perceived all that -was going on, and it was as if I both heard and saw. Haddon was bending -over me, Mowbray behind me; the scalpel--it was a large scalpel--was -cutting my flesh at the side under the flying ribs. It was interesting -to see myself cut like cheese, without a pang, without even a qualm. -The interest was much of a quality with that one might feel in a game -of chess between strangers. Haddon's face was firm and his hand steady; -but I was surprised to perceive (_how_ I know not) that he was feeling -the gravest doubt as to his own wisdom in the conduct of the operation. - -Mowbray's thoughts, too, I could see. He was thinking that Haddon's -manner showed too much of the specialist. New suggestions came up like -bubbles through a stream of frothing meditation, and burst one after -another in the little bright spot of his consciousness. He could not -help noticing and admiring Haddon's swift dexterity, in spite of his -envious quality and his disposition to detract. I saw my liver exposed. -I was puzzled at my own condition. I did not feel that I was dead, but -I was different in some way from my living self. The grey depression, -that had weighed on me for a year or more and coloured all my thoughts, -was gone. I perceived and thought without any emotional tint at all. -I wondered if everyone perceived things in this way under chloroform, -and forgot it again when he came out of it. It would be inconvenient to -look into some heads, and not forget. - -Although I did not think that I was dead, I still perceived quite -clearly that I was soon to die. This brought me back to the -consideration of Haddon's proceedings. I looked into his mind, and -saw that he was afraid of cutting a branch of the portal vein. My -attention was distracted from details by the curious changes going on -in his mind. His consciousness was like the quivering little spot of -light which is thrown by the mirror of a galvanometer. His thoughts -ran under it like a stream, some through the focus bright and distinct, -some shadowy in the half-light of the edge. Just now the little glow -was steady; but the least movement on Mowbray's part, the slightest -sound from outside, even a faint difference in the slow movement of -the living flesh he was cutting, set the light-spot shivering and -spinning. A new sense-impression came rushing up through the flow of -thoughts; and lo! the light-spot jerked away towards it, swifter than -a frightened fish. It was wonderful to think that upon that unstable, -fitful thing depended all the complex motions of the man; that for -the next five minutes, therefore, my life hung upon its movements. -And he was growing more and more nervous in his work. It was as if a -little picture of a cut vein grew brighter, and struggled to oust from -his brain another picture of a cut falling short of the mark. He was -afraid: his dread of cutting too little was battling with his dread of -cutting too far. - -Then, suddenly, like an escape of water from under a lock-gate, a -great uprush of horrible realisation set all his thoughts swirling, -and simultaneously I perceived that the vein was cut. He started back -with a hoarse exclamation, and I saw the brown-purple blood gather -in a swift bead, and run trickling. He was horrified. He pitched the -red-stained scalpel on to the octagonal table; and instantly both -doctors flung themselves upon me, making hasty and ill-conceived -efforts to remedy the disaster. "Ice!" said Mowbray, gasping. But I -knew that I was killed, though my body still clung to me. - -I will not describe their belated endeavours to save me, though I -perceived every detail. My perceptions were sharper and swifter -than they had ever been in life; my thoughts rushed through my mind -with incredible swiftness, but with perfect definition. I can only -compare their crowded clarity to the effects of a reasonable dose -of opium. In a moment it would all be over, and I should be free. I -knew I was immortal, but what would happen I did not know. Should I -drift off presently, like a puff of smoke from a gun, in some kind of -half-material body, an attenuated version of my material self? Should -I find myself suddenly among the innumerable hosts of the dead, and -know the world about me for the phantasmagoria it had always seemed? -Should I drift to some spiritualistic _séance_, and there make foolish, -incomprehensible attempts to affect a purblind medium? It was a -state of unemotional curiosity, of colourless expectation. And then -I realised a growing stress upon me, a feeling as though some huge -human magnet was drawing me upward out of my body. The stress grew and -grew. I seemed an atom for which monstrous forces were fighting. For -one brief, terrible moment sensation came back to me. That feeling of -falling headlong which comes in nightmares, that feeling a thousand -times intensified, that and a black horror swept across my thoughts in -a torrent. Then the two doctors, the naked body with its cut side, the -little room, swept away from under me and vanished, as a speck of foam -vanishes down an eddy. - -I was in mid-air. Far below was the West End of London, receding -rapidly,--for I seemed to be flying swiftly upward,--and, as it -receded, passing westward, like a panorama. I could see, through the -faint haze of smoke, the innumerable roofs chimney-set, the narrow -roadways, stippled with people and conveyances, the little specks -of squares, and the church steeples like thorns sticking out of the -fabric. But it spun away as the earth rotated on its axis, and in a -few seconds (as it seemed) I was over the scattered clumps of town -about Ealing, the little Thames a thread of blue to the south, and the -Chiltern Hills and the North Downs coming up like the rim of a basin, -far away and faint with haze. Up I rushed. And at first I had not the -faintest conception what this headlong rush upward could mean. - -Every moment the circle of scenery beneath me grew wider and wider, -and the details of town and field, of hill and valley, got more and -more hazy and pale and indistinct, a luminous grey was mingled more -and more with the blue of the hills and the green of the open meadows; -and a little patch of cloud, low and far to the west, shone ever more -dazzlingly white. Above, as the veil of atmosphere between myself and -outer space grew thinner, the sky, which had been a fair springtime -blue at first, grew deeper and richer in colour, passing steadily -through the intervening shades, until presently it was as dark as -the blue sky of midnight, and presently as black as the blackness of -a frosty starlight, and at last as black as no blackness I had ever -beheld. And first one star, and then many, and at last an innumerable -host broke out upon the sky: more stars than anyone has ever seen from -the face of the earth. For the blueness of the sky is the light of the -sun and stars sifted and spread abroad blindingly: there is diffused -light even in the darkest skies of winter, and we do not see the stars -by day only because of the dazzling irradiation of the sun. But now I -saw things--I know not how; assuredly with no mortal eyes--and that -defect of bedazzlement blinded me no longer. The sun was incredibly -strange and wonderful. The body of it was a disc of blinding white -light: not yellowish, as it seems to those who live upon the earth, but -livid white, all streaked with scarlet streaks and rimmed about with a -fringe of writhing tongues of red fire. And, shooting half-way across -the heavens from either side of it, and brighter than the Milky Way, -were two pinions of silver-white, making it look more like those winged -globes I have seen in Egyptian sculpture, than anything else I can -remember upon earth. These I knew for the solar corona, though I had -never seen anything of it but a picture during the days of my earthly -life. - -When my attention came back to the earth again, I saw that it -had fallen very far away from me. Field and town were long since -indistinguishable, and all the varied hues of the country were merging -into a uniform bright grey, broken only by the brilliant white of the -clouds that lay scattered in flocculent masses over Ireland and the -west of England. For now I could see the outlines of the north of -France and Ireland, and all this island of Britain, save where Scotland -passed over the horizon to the north, or where the coast was blurred -or obliterated by cloud. The sea was a dull grey, and darker than the -land; and the whole panorama was rotating slowly towards the east. - -All this had happened so swiftly that, until I was some thousand miles -or so from the earth, I had no thought for myself. But now I perceived -I had neither hands nor feet, neither parts nor organs, and that I felt -neither alarm nor pain. All about me I perceived that the vacancy (for -I had already left the air behind) was cold beyond the imagination of -man; but it troubled me not. The sun's rays shot through the void, -powerless to light or heat until they should strike on matter in their -course. I saw things with a serene self-forgetfulness, even as if I -were God. And down below there, rushing away from me,--countless miles -in a second,--where a little dark spot on the grey marked the position -of London, two doctors were struggling to restore life to the poor -hacked and outworn shell I had abandoned. I felt then such release, -such serenity as I can compare to no mortal delight I have ever known. - -It was only after I had perceived all these things that the meaning of -that headlong rush of the earth grew into comprehension. Yet it was -so simple, so obvious, that I was amazed at my never anticipating the -thing that was happening to me. I had suddenly been cut adrift from -matter: all that was material of me was there upon earth, whirling -away through space, held to the earth by gravitation, partaking of the -earth-inertia, moving in its wreath of epicycles round the sun, and -with the sun and the planets on their vast march through space. But -the immaterial has no inertia, feels nothing of the pull of matter -for matter: where it parts from its garment of flesh, there it remains -(so far as space concerns it any longer) immovable in space. I was not -leaving the earth: the earth was leaving _me_, and not only the earth, -but the whole solar system was streaming past. And about me in space, -invisible to me, scattered in the wake of the earth upon its journey, -there must be an innumerable multitude of souls, stripped like myself -of the material, stripped like myself of the passions of the individual -and the generous emotions of the gregarious brute, naked intelligences, -things of newborn wonder and thought, marvelling at the strange release -that had suddenly come on them! - -As I receded faster and faster from the strange white sun in the black -heavens, and from the broad and shining earth upon which my being had -begun, I seemed to grow, in some incredible manner, vast: vast as -regards this world I had left, vast as regards the moments and periods -of a human life. Very soon I saw the full circle of the earth, slightly -gibbous, like the moon when she nears her full, but very large; and -the silvery shape of America was now in the noonday blaze wherein (as -it seemed) little England had been basking but a few minutes ago. At -first the earth was large, and shone in the heavens, filling a great -part of them; but every moment she grew smaller and more distant. As -she shrunk, the broad moon in its third quarter crept into view over -the rim of her disc. I looked for the constellations. Only that part of -Aries directly behind the sun and the Lion, which the earth covered, -were hidden. I recognised the tortuous, tattered band of the Milky -Way, with Vega very bright between sun and earth; and Sirius and Orion -shone splendid against the unfathomable blackness in the opposite -quarter of the heavens. The Pole Star was overhead, and the Great Bear -hung over the circle of the earth. And away beneath and beyond the -shining corona of the sun were strange groupings of stars I had never -seen in my life--notably, a dagger-shaped group that I knew for the -Southern Cross. All these were no larger than when they had shone on -earth; but the little stars that one scarce sees shone now against the -setting of black vacancy as brightly as the first-magnitudes had done, -while the larger worlds were points of indescribable glory and colour. -Aldebaran was a spot of blood-red fire, and Sirius condensed to one -point the light of a world of sapphires. And they shone steadily: they -did not scintillate, they were calmly glorious. My impressions had an -adamantine hardness and brightness: there was no blurring softness, -no atmosphere, nothing but infinite darkness set with the myriads of -these acute and brilliant points and specks of light. Presently, when -I looked again, the little earth seemed no bigger than the sun, and -it dwindled and turned as I looked, until, in a second's space (as it -seemed to me), it was halved; and so it went on swiftly dwindling. Far -away in the opposite direction, a little pinkish pin's head of light, -shining steadily, was the planet Mars. I swam motionless in vacancy, -and, without a trace of terror or astonishment, watched the speck of -cosmic dust we call the world fall away from me. - -Presently it dawned upon me that my sense of duration had changed: that -my mind was moving not faster but infinitely slower, that between each -separate impression there was a period of many days. The moon spun once -round the earth as I noted this; and I perceived clearly the motion of -Mars in his orbit. Moreover, it appeared as if the time between thought -and thought grew steadily greater, until at last a thousand years was -but a moment in my perception. - -At first the constellations had shone motionless against the black -background of infinite space; but presently it seemed as though the -group of stars about Hercules and the Scorpion was contracting, while -Orion and Aldebaran and their neighbours were scattering apart. -Flashing suddenly out of the darkness there came a flying multitude -of particles of rock, glittering like dust-specks in a sunbeam, and -encompassed in a faintly luminous haze. They swirled all about me, -and vanished again in a twinkling far behind. And then I saw that a -bright spot of light, that shone a little to one side of my path, was -growing very rapidly larger, and perceived that it was the planet -Saturn rushing towards me. Larger and larger it grew, swallowing up the -heavens behind it, and hiding every moment a fresh multitude of stars. -I perceived its flattened, whirling body, its disc-like belt, and seven -of its little satellites. It grew and grew, till it towered enormous; -and then I plunged amid a streaming multitude of clashing stones and -dancing dust-particles and gas-eddies, and saw for a moment the mighty -triple belt like three concentric arches of moonlight above me, its -shadow black on the boiling tumult below. These things happened in -one-tenth of the time it takes to tell of them. The planet went by like -a flash of lightning; for a few seconds it blotted out the sun, and -there and then became a mere black, dwindling, winged patch against the -light. The earth, the mother mote of my being, I could no longer see. - -So, with a stately swiftness, in the profoundest silence, the solar -system fell from me, as it had been a garment, until the sun was a mere -star amid the multitude of stars, with its eddy of planet-specks, lost -in the confused glittering of the remoter light. I was no longer a -denizen of the solar system: I had come to the Outer Universe, I seemed -to grasp and comprehend the whole world of matter. Ever more swiftly -the stars closed in about the spot where Antares and Vega had vanished -in a luminous haze, until that part of the sky had the semblance of -a whirling mass of nebulę, and ever before me yawned vaster gaps of -vacant blackness, and the stars shone fewer and fewer. It seemed as if -I moved towards a point between Orion's belt and sword; and the void -about that region opened vaster and vaster every second, an incredible -gulf of nothingness, into which I was falling. Faster and ever faster -the universe rushed by, a hurry of whirling motes at last, speeding -silently into the void. Stars glowing brighter and brighter, with -their circling planets catching the light in a ghostly fashion as I -neared them, shone out and vanished again into inexistence; faint -comets, clusters of meteorites, winking specks of matter, eddying light -points, whizzed past, some perhaps a hundred millions of miles or so -from me at most, few nearer, travelling with unimaginable rapidity, -shooting constellations, momentary darts of fire, through that black, -enormous night. More than anything else it was like a dusty draught, -sunbeam-lit. Broader, and wider, and deeper grew the starless space, -the vacant Beyond, into which I was being drawn. At last a quarter of -the heavens was black and blank, and the whole headlong rush of stellar -universe closed in behind me like a veil of light that is gathered -together. It drove away from me like a monstrous jack-o'-lantern driven -by the wind. I had come out into the wilderness of space. Ever the -vacant blackness grew broader, until the hosts of the stars seemed -only like a swarm of fiery specks hurrying away from me, inconceivably -remote, and the darkness, the nothingness and emptiness, was about me -on every side. Soon the little universe of matter, the cage of points -in which I had begun to be, was dwindling, now to a whirling disc of -luminous glittering, and now to one minute disc of hazy light. In a -little while it would shrink to a point, and at last would vanish -altogether. - -Suddenly feeling came back to me--feeling in the shape of overwhelming -terror: such a dread of those dark vastitudes as no words can describe, -a passionate resurgence of sympathy and social desire. Were there -other souls, invisible to me as I to them, about me in the blackness? -or was I indeed, even as I felt, alone? Had I passed out of being -into something that was neither being nor not-being? The covering -of the body, the covering of matter, had been torn from me, and the -hallucinations of companionship and security. Everything was black and -silent. I had ceased to be. I was nothing. There was nothing, save only -that infinitesimal dot of light that dwindled in the gulf. I strained -myself to hear and see, and for a while there was naught but infinite -silence, intolerable darkness, horror, and despair. - -Then I saw that about the spot of light into which the whole world of -matter had shrunk there was a faint glow. And in a band on either side -of that the darkness was not absolute. I watched it for ages, as it -seemed to me, and through the long waiting the haze grew imperceptibly -more distinct. And then about the band appeared an irregular cloud -of the faintest, palest brown. I felt a passionate impatience; but -the things grew brighter so slowly that they scarce seemed to change. -What was unfolding itself? What was this strange reddish dawn in the -interminable night of space? - -The cloud's shape was grotesque. It seemed to be looped along its lower -side into four projecting masses, and, above, it ended in a straight -line. What phantom was it? I felt assured I had seen that figure -before; but I could not think what, nor where, nor when it was. Then -the realisation rushed upon me. _It was a clenched Hand._ I was alone -in space, alone with this huge, shadowy Hand, upon which the whole -Universe of Matter lay like an unconsidered speck of dust. It seemed -as though I watched it through vast periods of time. On the forefinger -glittered a ring; and the universe from which I had come was but a spot -of light upon the ring's curvature. And the thing that the hand gripped -had the likeness of a black rod. Through a long eternity I watched -this Hand, with the ring and the rod, marvelling and fearing and -waiting helplessly on what might follow. It seemed as though nothing -could follow: that I should watch for ever, seeing only the Hand and -the thing it held, and understanding nothing of its import. Was the -whole universe but a refracting speck upon some greater Being? Were our -worlds but the atoms of another universe, and those again of another, -and so on through an endless progression? And what was I? Was I indeed -immaterial? A vague persuasion of a body gathering about me came into -my suspense. The abysmal darkness about the Hand filled with impalpable -suggestions, with uncertain, fluctuating shapes. - -Then, suddenly, came a sound, like the sound of a tolling bell: faint, -as if infinitely far; muffled, as though heard through thick swathings -of darkness: a deep, vibrating resonance, with vast gulfs of silence -between each stroke. And the Hand appeared to tighten on the rod. And -I saw far above the Hand, towards the apex of the darkness, a circle -of dim phosphorescence, a ghostly sphere whence these sounds came -throbbing; and at the last stroke the Hand vanished, for the hour had -come, and I heard a noise of many waters. But the black rod remained -as a great band across the sky. And then a voice, which seemed to run -to the uttermost parts of space, spoke, saying, "There will be no more -pain." - -At that an almost intolerable gladness and radiance rushed in upon -me, and I saw the circle shining white and bright, and the rod black -and shining, and many things else distinct and clear. And the circle -was the face of the clock, and the rod the rail of my bed. Haddon was -standing at the foot, against the rail, with a small pair of scissors -on his fingers; and the hands of my clock on the mantel over his -shoulder were clasped together over the hour of twelve. Mowbray was -washing something in a basin at the octagonal table, and at my side I -felt a subdued feeling that could scarce be spoken of as pain. - -The operation had not killed me. And I perceived, suddenly, that the -dull melancholy of half a year was lifted from my mind. - - - - -THE SEA RAIDERS - -I - - -Until the extraordinary affair at Sidmouth, the peculiar species -_Haploteuthis ferox_ was known to science only generically, on the -strength of a half-digested tentacle obtained near the Azores, and a -decaying body pecked by birds and nibbled by fish, found early in 1896 -by Mr. Jennings, near Land's End. - -In no department of zoological science, indeed, are we quite so much in -the dark as with regard to the deep-sea cephalopods. A mere accident, -for instance, it was that led to the Prince of Monaco's discovery -of nearly a dozen new forms in the summer of 1895, a discovery in -which the before-mentioned tentacle was included. It chanced that -a cachalot was killed off Terceira by some sperm whalers, and in -its last struggles charged almost to the Prince's yacht, missed it, -rolled under, and died within twenty yards of his rudder. And in its -agony it threw up a number of large objects, which the Prince, dimly -perceiving they were strange and important, was, by a happy expedient, -able to secure before they sank. He set his screws in motion, and -kept them circling in the vortices thus created until a boat could -be lowered. And these specimens were whole cephalopods and fragments -of cephalopods, some of gigantic proportions, and almost all of them -unknown to science! - -It would seem, indeed, that these large and agile creatures, living -in the middle depths of the sea, must, to a large extent, for ever -remain unknown to us, since under water they are too nimble for nets, -and it is only by such rare unlooked-for accidents that specimens -can be obtained. In the case of _Haploteuthis ferox_, for instance, -we are still altogether ignorant of its habitat, as ignorant as we -are of the breeding-ground of the herring or the sea-ways of the -salmon. And zoologists are altogether at a loss to account for its -sudden appearance on our coast. Possibly it was the stress of a hunger -migration that drove it hither out of the deep. But it will be, -perhaps, better to avoid necessarily inconclusive discussion, and to -proceed at once with our narrative. - -The first human being to set eyes upon a living _Haploteuthis_--the -first human being to survive, that is, for there can be little doubt -now that the wave of bathing fatalities and boating accidents that -travelled along the coast of Cornwall and Devon in early May was due -to this cause--was a retired tea-dealer of the name of Fison, who was -stopping at a Sidmouth boarding-house. It was in the afternoon, and he -was walking along the cliff path between Sidmouth and Ladram Bay. The -cliffs in this direction are very high, but down the red face of them -in one place a kind of ladder staircase has been made. He was near -this when his attention was attracted by what at first he thought to -be a cluster of birds struggling over a fragment of food that caught -the sunlight, and glistened pinkish-white. The tide was right out, and -this object was not only far below him, but remote across a broad waste -of rock reefs covered with dark seaweed and interspersed with silvery -shining tidal pools. And he was, moreover, dazzled by the brightness of -the further water. - -In a minute, regarding this again, he perceived that his judgment was -in fault, for over this struggle circled a number of birds, jackdaws -and gulls for the most part, the latter gleaming blindingly when the -sunlight smote their wings, and they seemed minute in comparison with -it. And his curiosity was, perhaps, aroused all the more strongly -because of his first insufficient explanations. - -As he had nothing better to do than amuse himself, he decided to make -this object, whatever it was, the goal of his afternoon walk, instead -of Ladram Bay, conceiving it might perhaps be a great fish of some -sort, stranded by some chance, and flapping about in its distress. And -so he hurried down the long steep ladder, stopping at intervals of -thirty feet or so to take breath and scan the mysterious movement. - -At the foot of the cliff he was, of course, nearer his object than -he had been; but, on the other hand, it now came up against the -incandescent sky, beneath the sun, so as to seem dark and indistinct. -Whatever was pinkish of it was now hidden by a skerry of weedy -boulders. But he perceived that it was made up of seven rounded bodies, -distinct or connected, and that the birds kept up a constant croaking -and screaming, but seemed afraid to approach it too closely. - -Mr. Fison, torn by curiosity, began picking his way across the -wave-worn rocks, and, finding the wet seaweed that covered them thickly -rendered them extremely slippery, he stopped, removed his shoes and -socks, and coiled his trousers above his knees. His object was, of -course, merely to avoid stumbling into the rocky pools about him, and -perhaps he was rather glad, as all men are, of an excuse to resume, -even for a moment, the sensations of his boyhood. At anyrate, it is to -this, no doubt, that he owes his life. - -He approached his mark with all the assurance which the absolute -security of this country against all forms of animal life gives its -inhabitants. The round bodies moved to and fro, but it was only when he -surmounted the skerry of boulders I have mentioned that he realised the -horrible nature of the discovery. It came upon him with some suddenness. - -The rounded bodies fell apart as he came into sight over the ridge, -and displayed the pinkish object to be the partially devoured body of -a human being, but whether of a man or woman he was unable to say. -And the rounded bodies were new and ghastly-looking creatures, in -shape somewhat resembling an octopus, and with huge and very long and -flexible tentacles, coiled copiously on the ground. The skin had a -glistening texture, unpleasant to see, like shiny leather. The downward -bend of the tentacle-surrounded mouth, the curious excrescence at the -bend, the tentacles, and the large intelligent eyes, gave the creatures -a grotesque suggestion of a face. They were the size of a fair-sized -swine about the body, and the tentacles seemed to him to be many feet -in length. There were, he thinks, seven or eight at least of the -creatures. Twenty yards beyond them, amid the surf of the now returning -tide, two others were emerging from the sea. - -Their bodies lay flatly on the rocks, and their eyes regarded him with -evil interest; but it does not appear that Mr. Fison was afraid, or -that he realised that he was in any danger. Possibly his confidence -is to be ascribed to the limpness of their attitudes. But he was -horrified, of course, and intensely excited and indignant at such -revolting creatures preying upon human flesh. He thought they had -chanced upon a drowned body. He shouted to them, with the idea of -driving them off, and, finding they did not budge, cast about him, -picked up a big rounded lump of rock, and flung it at one. - -And then, slowly uncoiling their tentacles, they all began moving -towards him--creeping at first deliberately, and making a soft purring -sound to each other. - -In a moment Mr. Fison realised that he was in danger. He shouted again, -threw both his boots, and started off, with a leap, forthwith. Twenty -yards off he stopped and faced about, judging them slow, and behold! -the tentacles of their leader were already pouring over the rocky -ridge on which he had just been standing! - -At that he shouted again, but this time not threatening, but a cry -of dismay, and began jumping, striding, slipping, wading across the -uneven expanse between him and the beach. The tall red cliffs seemed -suddenly at a vast distance, and he saw, as though they were creatures -in another world, two minute workmen engaged in the repair of the -ladder-way, and little suspecting the race for life that was beginning -below them. At one time he could hear the creatures splashing in the -pools not a dozen feet behind him, and once he slipped and almost fell. - -They chased him to the very foot of the cliffs, and desisted only when -he had been joined by the workmen at the foot of the ladder-way up the -cliff. All three of the men pelted them with stones for a time, and -then hurried to the cliff top and along the path towards Sidmouth, to -secure assistance and a boat, and to rescue the desecrated body from -the clutches of these abominable creatures. - - -II - -And, as if he had not already been in sufficient peril that day, Mr. -Fison went with the boat to point out the exact spot of his adventure. - -As the tide was down, it required a considerable detour to reach the -spot, and when at last they came off the ladder-way, the mangled body -had disappeared. The water was now running in, submerging first one -slab of slimy rock and then another, and the four men in the boat--the -workmen, that is, the boatman, and Mr. Fison--now turned their -attention from the bearings off shore to the water beneath the keel. - -At first they could see little below them, save a dark jungle of -laminaria, with an occasional darting fish. Their minds were set -on adventure, and they expressed their disappointment freely. But -presently they saw one of the monsters swimming through the water -seaward, with a curious rolling motion that suggested to Mr. Fison -the spinning roll of a captive balloon. Almost immediately after, -the waving streamers of laminaria were extraordinarily perturbed, -parted for a moment, and three of these beasts became darkly visible, -struggling for what was probably some fragment of the drowned man. In -a moment the copious olive-green ribbons had poured again over this -writhing group. - -At that all four men, greatly excited, began beating the water with -oars and shouting, and immediately they saw a tumultuous movement among -the weeds. They desisted to see more clearly, and as soon as the water -was smooth, they saw, as it seemed to them, the whole sea bottom among -the weeds set with eyes. - -"Ugly swine!" cried one of the men. "Why, there's dozens!" - -And forthwith the things began to rise through the water about them. -Mr. Fison has since described to the writer this startling eruption -out of the waving laminaria meadows. To him it seemed to occupy a -considerable time, but it is probable that really it was an affair of -a few seconds only. For a time nothing but eyes, and then he speaks of -tentacles streaming out and parting the weed fronds this way and that. -Then these things, growing larger, until at last the bottom was hidden -by their intercoiling forms, and the tips of tentacles rose darkly here -and there into the air above the swell of the waters. - -One came up boldly to the side of the boat, and, clinging to this with -three of its sucker-set tentacles, threw four others over the gunwale, -as if with an intention either of oversetting the boat or of clambering -into it. Mr. Fison at once caught up the boathook, and, jabbing -furiously at the soft tentacles, forced it to desist. He was struck in -the back and almost pitched overboard by the boatman, who was using his -oar to resist a similar attack on the other side of the boat. But the -tentacles on either side at once relaxed their hold at this, slid out -of sight, and splashed into the water. - -"We'd better get out of this," said Mr. Fison, who was trembling -violently. He went to the tiller, while the boatman and one of the -workmen seated themselves and began rowing. The other workman stood -up in the fore part of the boat, with the boathook, ready to strike -any more tentacles that might appear. Nothing else seems to have been -said. Mr. Fison had expressed the common feeling beyond amendment. -In a hushed, scared mood, with faces white and drawn, they set about -escaping from the position into which they had so recklessly blundered. - -But the oars had scarcely dropped into the water before dark, tapering, -serpentine ropes had bound them, and were about the rudder; and -creeping up the sides of the boat with a looping motion came the -suckers again. The men gripped their oars and pulled, but it was like -trying to move a boat in a floating raft of weeds. "Help here!" cried -the boatman, and Mr. Fison and the second workman rushed to help lug at -the oar. - -Then the man with the boathook--his name was Ewan, or Ewen--sprang up -with a curse, and began striking downward over the side, as far as he -could reach, at the bank of tentacles that now clustered along the -boat's bottom. And, at the same time, the two rowers stood up to get -a better purchase for the recovery of their oars. The boatman handed -his to Mr. Fison, who lugged desperately, and, meanwhile, the boatman -opened a big clasp-knife, and, leaning over the side of the boat, began -hacking at the spiring arms upon the oar shaft. - -Mr. Fison, staggering with the quivering rocking of the boat, his teeth -set, his breath coming short, and the veins starting on his hands as -he pulled at his oar, suddenly cast his eyes seaward. And there, not -fifty yards off, across the long rollers of the incoming tide, was a -large boat standing in towards them, with three women and a little -child in it. A boatman was rowing, and a little man in a pink-ribboned -straw hat and whites stood in the stern, hailing them. For a moment, of -course, Mr. Fison thought of help, and then he thought of the child. -He abandoned his oar forthwith, threw up his arms in a frantic gesture, -and screamed to the party in the boat to keep away "for God's sake!" -It says much for the modesty and courage of Mr. Fison that he does not -seem to be aware that there was any quality of heroism in his action at -this juncture. The oar he had abandoned was at once drawn under, and -presently reappeared floating about twenty yards away. - -At the same moment Mr. Fison felt the boat under him lurch violently, -and a hoarse scream, a prolonged cry of terror from Hill, the boatman, -caused him to forget the party of excursionists altogether. He turned, -and saw Hill crouching by the forward rowlock, his face convulsed with -terror, and his right arm over the side and drawn tightly down. He gave -now a succession of short, sharp cries, "Oh! oh! oh!--oh!" Mr. Fison -believes that he must have been hacking at the tentacles below the -water-line, and have been grasped by them, but, of course, it is quite -impossible to say now certainly what had happened. The boat was heeling -over, so that the gunwale was within ten inches of the water, and both -Ewan and the other labourer were striking down into the water, with oar -and boathook, on either side of Hill's arm. Mr. Fison instinctively -placed himself to counterpoise them. - -Then Hill, who was a burly, powerful man, made a strenuous effort, and -rose almost to a standing position. He lifted his arm, indeed, clean -out of the water. Hanging to it was a complicated tangle of brown -ropes; and the eyes of one of the brutes that had hold of him, glaring -straight and resolute, showed momentarily above the surface. The boat -heeled more and more, and the green-brown water came pouring in a -cascade over the side. Then Hill slipped and fell with his ribs across -the side, and his arm and the mass of tentacles about it splashed back -into the water. He rolled over; his boot kicked Mr. Fison's knee as -that gentleman rushed forward to seize him, and in another moment fresh -tentacles had whipped about his waist and neck, and after a brief, -convulsive struggle, in which the boat was nearly capsized, Hill was -lugged overboard. The boat righted with a violent jerk that all but -sent Mr. Fison over the other side, and hid the struggle in the water -from his eyes. - -He stood staggering to recover his balance for a moment, and as he -did so, he became aware that the struggle and the inflowing tide had -carried them close upon the weedy rocks again. Not four yards off a -table of rock still rose in rhythmic movements above the in-wash of the -tide. In a moment Mr. Fison seized the oar from Ewan, gave one vigorous -stroke, then, dropping it, ran to the bows and leapt. He felt his feet -slide over the rock, and, by a frantic effort, leapt again towards a -further mass. He stumbled over this, came to his knees, and rose again. - -"Look out!" cried someone, and a large drab body struck him. He was -knocked flat into a tidal pool by one of the workmen, and as he went -down he heard smothered, choking cries, that he believed at the time -came from Hill. Then he found himself marvelling at the shrillness and -variety of Hill's voice. Someone jumped over him, and a curving rush -of foamy water poured over him, and passed. He scrambled to his feet -dripping, and, without looking seaward, ran as fast as his terror would -let him shoreward. Before him, over the flat space of scattered rocks, -stumbled the two workmen--one a dozen yards in front of the other. - -He looked over his shoulder at last, and, seeing that he was not -pursued, faced about. He was astonished. From the moment of the rising -of the cephalopods out of the water, he had been acting too swiftly -to fully comprehend his actions. Now it seemed to him as if he had -suddenly jumped out of an evil dream. - -For there were the sky, cloudless and blazing with the afternoon sun, -the sea weltering under its pitiless brightness, the soft creamy foam -of the breaking water, and the low, long, dark ridges of rock. The -righted boat floated, rising and falling gently on the swell about -a dozen yards from shore. Hill and the monsters, all the stress and -tumult of that fierce fight for life, had vanished as though they had -never been. - -Mr. Fison's heart was beating violently; he was throbbing to the -finger-tips, and his breath came deep. - -There was something missing. For some seconds he could not think -clearly enough what this might be. Sun, sky, sea, rocks--what was it? -Then he remembered the boatload of excursionists. It had vanished. -He wondered whether he had imagined it. He turned, and saw the two -workmen standing side by side under the projecting masses of the tall -pink cliffs. He hesitated whether he should make one last attempt -to save the man Hill. His physical excitement seemed to desert him -suddenly, and leave him aimless and helpless. He turned shoreward, -stumbling and wading towards his two companions. - -He looked back again, and there were now two boats floating, and the -one farthest out at sea pitched clumsily, bottom upward. - - -III - -So it was _Haploteuthis ferox_ made its appearance upon the Devonshire -coast. So far, this has been its most serious aggression. Mr. Fison's -account, taken together with the wave of boating and bathing casualties -to which I have already alluded, and the absence of fish from the -Cornish coasts that year, points clearly to a shoal of these voracious -deep-sea monsters prowling slowly along the sub-tidal coastline. -Hunger migration has, I know, been suggested as the force that drove -them hither; but, for my own part, I prefer to believe the alternative -theory of Hemsley. Hemsley holds that a pack or shoal of these -creatures may have become enamoured of human flesh by the accident of -a foundered ship sinking among them, and have wandered in search of it -out of their accustomed zone; first waylaying and following ships, and -so coming to our shores in the wake of the Atlantic traffic. But to -discuss Hemsley's cogent and admirably-stated arguments would be out -of place here. - -It would seem that the appetites of the shoal were satisfied by the -catch of eleven people--for so far as can be ascertained, there were -ten people in the second boat, and certainly these creatures gave -no further signs of their presence off Sidmouth that day. The coast -between Seaton and Budleigh Salterton was patrolled all that evening -and night by four Preventive Service boats, the men in which were armed -with harpoons and cutlasses, and as the evening advanced, a number -of more or less similarly equipped expeditions, organised by private -individuals, joined them. Mr. Fison took no part in any of these -expeditions. - -About midnight excited hails were heard from a boat about a couple of -miles out at sea to the south-east of Sidmouth, and a lantern was seen -waving in a strange manner to and fro and up and down. The nearer boats -at once hurried towards the alarm. The venturesome occupants of the -boat, a seaman, a curate, and two schoolboys, had actually seen the -monsters passing under their boat. The creatures, it seems, like most -deep-sea organisms, were phosphorescent, and they had been floating, -five fathoms deep or so, like creatures of moonshine through the -blackness of the water, their tentacles retracted and as if asleep, -rolling over and over, and moving slowly in a wedge-like formation -towards the south-east. - -These people told their story in gesticulated fragments, as first one -boat drew alongside and then another. At last there was a little fleet -of eight or nine boats collected together, and from them a tumult, -like the chatter of a marketplace, rose into the stillness of the -night. There was little or no disposition to pursue the shoal, the -people had neither weapons nor experience for such a dubious chase, -and presently--even with a certain relief, it may be--the boats turned -shoreward. - -And now to tell what is perhaps the most astonishing fact in this whole -astonishing raid. We have not the slightest knowledge of the subsequent -movements of the shoal, although the whole south-west coast was now -alert for it. But it may, perhaps, be significant that a cachalot -was stranded off Sark on June 3. Two weeks and three days after this -Sidmouth affair, a living _Haploteuthis_ came ashore on Calais sands. -It was alive, because several witnesses saw its tentacles moving in a -convulsive way. But it is probable that it was dying. A gentleman named -Pouchet obtained a rifle and shot it. - -That was the last appearance of a living _Haploteuthis_. No others -were seen on the French coast. On the 15th of June a dead body, almost -complete, was washed ashore near Torquay, and a few days later a boat -from the Marine Biological station, engaged in dredging off Plymouth, -picked up a rotting specimen, slashed deeply with a cutlass wound. How -the former specimen had come by its death it is impossible to say. And -on the last day of June, Mr. Egbert Caine, an artist, bathing near -Newlyn, threw up his arms, shrieked, and was drawn under. A friend -bathing with him made no attempt to save him, but swam at once for -the shore. This is the last fact to tell of this extraordinary raid -from the deeper sea. Whether it is really the last of these horrible -creatures it is, as yet, premature to say. But it is believed, and -certainly it is to be hoped, that they have returned now, and returned -for good, to the sunless depths of the middle seas, out of which they -have so strangely and so mysteriously arisen. - - - - -POLLOCK AND THE PORROH MAN - - -It was in a swampy village on the lagoon river behind the Turner -Peninsula that Pollock's first encounter with the Porroh man occurred. -The women of that country are famous for their good looks--they are -Gallinas with a dash of European blood that dates from the days of -Vasco de Gama and the English slave-traders, and the Porroh man, too, -was possibly inspired by a faint Caucasian taint in his composition. -(It's a curious thing to think that some of us may have distant cousins -eating men on Sherboro Island or raiding with the Sofas.) At anyrate, -the Porroh man stabbed the woman to the heart as though he had been a -mere low-class Italian, and very narrowly missed Pollock. But Pollock, -using his revolver to parry the lightning stab which was aimed at his -deltoid muscle, sent the iron dagger flying, and, firing, hit the man -in the hand. - -He fired again and missed, knocking a sudden window out of the wall -of the hut. The Porroh man stooped in the doorway, glancing under his -arm at Pollock. Pollock caught a glimpse of his inverted face in the -sunlight, and then the Englishman was alone, sick and trembling with -the excitement of the affair, in the twilight of the place. It had all -happened in less time than it takes to read about it. - -The woman was quite dead, and having ascertained this, Pollock went to -the entrance of the hut and looked out. Things outside were dazzling -bright. Half a dozen of the porters of the expedition were standing up -in a group near the green huts they occupied, and staring towards him, -wondering what the shots might signify. Behind the little group of men -was the broad stretch of black fetid mud by the river, a green carpet -of rafts of papyrus and water-grass, and then the leaden water. The -mangroves beyond the stream loomed indistinctly through the blue haze. -There were no signs of excitement in the squat village, whose fence was -just visible above the cane-grass. - -Pollock came out of the hut cautiously and walked towards the river, -looking over his shoulder at intervals. But the Porroh man had -vanished. Pollock clutched his revolver nervously in his hand. - -One of his men came to meet him, and as he came, pointed to the bushes -behind the hut in which the Porroh man had disappeared. Pollock had -an irritating persuasion of having made an absolute fool of himself; -he felt bitter, savage, at the turn things had taken. At the same -time, he would have to tell Waterhouse--the moral, exemplary, cautious -Waterhouse--who would inevitably take the matter seriously. Pollock -cursed bitterly at his luck, at Waterhouse, and especially at the West -Coast of Africa. He felt consummately sick of the expedition. And -in the back of his mind all the time was a speculative doubt where -precisely within the visible horizon the Porroh man might be. - -It is perhaps rather shocking, but he was not at all upset by the -murder that had just happened. He had seen so much brutality during the -last three months, so many dead women, burnt huts, drying skeletons, up -the Kittam River in the wake of the Sofa cavalry, that his senses were -blunted. What disturbed him was the persuasion that this business was -only beginning. - -He swore savagely at the black, who ventured to ask a question, and -went on into the tent under the orange-trees where Waterhouse was -lying, feeling exasperatingly like a boy going into the headmaster's -study. - -Waterhouse was still sleeping off the effects of his last dose of -chlorodyne, and Pollock sat down on a packing-case beside him, and, -lighting his pipe, waited for him to awake. About him were scattered -the pots and weapons Waterhouse had collected from the Mendi people, -and which he had been repacking for the canoe voyage to Sulyma. - -Presently Waterhouse woke up, and after judicial stretching, decided -he was all right again. Pollock got him some tea. Over the tea the -incidents of the afternoon were described by Pollock, after some -preliminary beating about the bush. Waterhouse took the matter even -more seriously than Pollock had anticipated. He did not simply -disapprove, he scolded, he insulted. - -"You're one of those infernal fools who think a black man isn't a human -being," he said. "I can't be ill a day without you must get into some -dirty scrape or other. This is the third time in a month that you have -come crossways-on with a native, and this time you're in for it with a -vengeance. Porroh, too! They're down upon you enough as it is, about -that idol you wrote your silly name on. And they're the most vindictive -devils on earth! You make a man ashamed of civilisation. To think you -come of a decent family! If ever I cumber myself up with a vicious, -stupid young lout like you again"-- - -"Steady on, now," snarled Pollock, in the tone that always exasperated -Waterhouse; "steady on." - -At that Waterhouse became speechless. He jumped to his feet. - -"Look here, Pollock," he said, after a struggle to control his breath. -"You must go home. I won't have you any longer. I'm ill enough as it is -through you"-- - -"Keep your hair on," said Pollock, staring in front of him. "I'm ready -enough to go." - -Waterhouse became calmer again. He sat down on the camp-stool. "Very -well," he said. "I don't want a row, Pollock, you know, but it's -confoundedly annoying to have one's plans put out by this kind of -thing. I'll come to Sulyma with you, and see you safe aboard"-- - -"You needn't," said Pollock. "I can go alone. From here." - -"Not far," said Waterhouse. "You don't understand this Porroh -business." - -"How should _I_ know she belonged to a Porroh man?" said Pollock -bitterly. - -"Well, she did," said Waterhouse; "and you can't undo the thing. Go -alone, indeed! I wonder what they'd do to you. You don't seem to -understand that this Porroh hokey-pokey rules this country, is its law, -religion, constitution, medicine, magic.... They appoint the chiefs. -The Inquisition, at its best, couldn't hold a candle to these chaps. -He will probably set Awajale, the chief here, on to us. It's lucky our -porters are Mendis. We shall have to shift this little settlement of -ours.... Confound you, Pollock! And, of course, you must go and miss -him." - -He thought, and his thoughts seemed disagreeable. Presently he stood up -and took his rifle. "I'd keep close for a bit, if I were you," he said, -over his shoulder, as he went out. "I'm going out to see what I can -find out about it." - -Pollock remained sitting in the tent, meditating. "I was meant for a -civilised life," he said to himself, regretfully, as he filled his -pipe. "The sooner I get back to London or Paris the better for me." - -His eye fell on the sealed case in which Waterhouse had put the -featherless poisoned arrows they had bought in the Mendi country. "I -wish I had hit the beggar somewhere vital," said Pollock viciously. - -Waterhouse came back after a long interval. He was not communicative, -though Pollock asked him questions enough. The Porroh man, it seems, -was a prominent member of that mystical society. The village was -interested, but not threatening. No doubt the witch-doctor had gone -into the bush. He was a great witch-doctor. "Of course, he's up to -something," said Waterhouse, and became silent. - -"But what can he do?" asked Pollock, unheeded. - -"I must get you out of this. There's something brewing, or things would -not be so quiet," said Waterhouse, after a gap of silence. Pollock -wanted to know what the brew might be. "Dancing in a circle of skulls," -said Waterhouse; "brewing a stink in a copper pot." Pollock wanted -particulars. Waterhouse was vague, Pollock pressing. At last Waterhouse -lost his temper. "How the devil should _I_ know?" he said to Pollock's -twentieth inquiry what the Porroh man would do. "He tried to kill -you off-hand in the hut. _Now_, I fancy he will try something more -elaborate. But you'll see fast enough. I don't want to help unnerve -you. It's probably all nonsense." - -That night, as they were sitting at their fire, Pollock again tried to -draw Waterhouse out on the subject of Porroh methods. "Better get to -sleep," said Waterhouse, when Pollock's bent became apparent; "we start -early to-morrow. You may want all your nerve about you." - -"But what line will he take?" - -"Can't say. They're versatile people. They know a lot of rum dodges. -You'd better get that copper-devil, Shakespear, to talk." - -There was a flash and a heavy bang out of the darkness behind the -huts, and a clay bullet came whistling close to Pollock's head. This, -at least, was crude enough. The blacks and half-breeds sitting and -yarning round their own fire jumped up, and someone fired into the dark. - -"Better go into one of the huts," said Waterhouse quietly, still -sitting unmoved. - -Pollock stood up by the fire and drew his revolver. Fighting, at least, -he was not afraid of. But a man in the dark is in the best of armour. -Realising the wisdom of Waterhouse's advice, Pollock went into the tent -and lay down there. - -What little sleep he had was disturbed by dreams, variegated dreams, -but chiefly of the Porroh man's face, upside down, as he went out of -the hut, and looked up under his arm. It was odd that this transitory -impression should have stuck so firmly in Pollock's memory. Moreover, -he was troubled by queer pains in his limbs. - -In the white haze of the early morning, as they were loading the -canoes, a barbed arrow suddenly appeared quivering in the ground close -to Pollock's foot. The boys made a perfunctory effort to clear out the -thicket, but it led to no capture. - -After these two occurrences, there was a disposition on the part of -the expedition to leave Pollock to himself, and Pollock became, for -the first time in his life, anxious to mingle with blacks. Waterhouse -took one canoe, and Pollock, in spite of a friendly desire to chat -with Waterhouse, had to take the other. He was left all alone in the -front part of the canoe, and he had the greatest trouble to make the -men--who did not love him--keep to the middle of the river, a clear -hundred yards or more from either shore. However, he made Shakespear, -the Freetown half-breed, come up to his own end of the canoe and tell -him about Porroh, which Shakespear, failing in his attempts to leave -Pollock alone, presently did with considerable freedom and gusto. - -The day passed. The canoe glided swiftly along the ribbon of lagoon -water, between the drift of water-figs, fallen trees, papyrus, and -palm-wine palms, and with the dark mangrove swamp to the left, through -which one could hear now and then the roar of the Atlantic surf. -Shakespear told in his soft, blurred English of how the Porroh could -cast spells; how men withered up under their malice; how they could -send dreams and devils; how they tormented and killed the sons of -Ijibu; how they kidnapped a white trader from Sulyma who had maltreated -one of the sect, and how his body looked when it was found. And Pollock -after each narrative cursed under his breath at the want of missionary -enterprise that allowed such things to be, and at the inert British -Government that ruled over this dark heathendom of Sierra Leone. In -the evening they came to the Kasi Lake, and sent a score of crocodiles -lumbering off the island on which the expedition camped for the night. - -The next day they reached Sulyma, and smelt the sea breeze, but Pollock -had to put up there for five days before he could get on to Freetown. -Waterhouse, considering him to be comparatively safe here, and within -the pale of Freetown influence, left him and went back with the -expedition to Gbemma, and Pollock became very friendly with Perera, -the only resident white trader at Sulyma--so friendly, indeed, that he -went about with him everywhere. Perera was a little Portuguese Jew, who -had lived in England, and he appreciated the Englishman's friendliness -as a great compliment. - -For two days nothing happened out of the ordinary; for the most part -Pollock and Perera played Nap--the only game they had in common--and -Pollock got into debt. Then, on the second evening, Pollock had a -disagreeable intimation of the arrival of the Porroh man in Sulyma by -getting a flesh-wound in the shoulder from a lump of filed iron. It -was a long shot, and the missile had nearly spent its force when it -hit him. Still it conveyed its message plainly enough. Pollock sat up -in his hammock, revolver in hand, all that night, and next morning -confided, to some extent, in the Anglo-Portuguese. - -Perera took the matter seriously. He knew the local customs pretty -thoroughly. "It is a personal question, you must know. It is revenge. -And of course he is hurried by your leaving de country. None of de -natives or half-breeds will interfere wid him very much--unless you -make it wort deir while. If you come upon him suddenly, you might shoot -him. But den he might shoot you. - -"Den dere's dis--infernal magic," said Perera. "Of course, I don't -believe in it--superstition--but still it's not nice to tink dat -wherever you are, dere is a black man, who spends a moonlight night now -and den a-dancing about a fire to send you bad dreams.... Had any bad -dreams?" - -"Rather," said Pollock. "I keep on seeing the beggar's head upside down -grinning at me and showing all his teeth as he did in the hut, and -coming close up to me, and then going ever so far off, and coming back. -It's nothing to be afraid of, but somehow it simply paralyses me with -terror in my sleep. Queer things--dreams. I know it's a dream all the -time, and I can't wake up from it." - -"It's probably only fancy," said Perera. "Den my niggers say Porroh men -can send snakes. Seen any snakes lately?" - -"Only one. I killed him this morning, on the floor near my hammock. -Almost trod on him as I got up." - -"_Ah!_" said Perera, and then, reassuringly, "Of course it is -a--coincidence. Still I would keep my eyes open. Den dere's pains in de -bones." - -"I thought they were due to miasma," said Pollock. - -"Probably dey are. When did dey begin?" - -Then Pollock remembered that he first noticed them the night after the -fight in the hut. "It's my opinion he don't want to kill you," said -Perera--"at least not yet. I've heard deir idea is to scare and worry -a man wid deir spells, and narrow misses, and rheumatic pains, and bad -dreams, and all dat, until he's sick of life. Of course, it's all talk, -you know. You mustn't worry about it.... But I wonder what he'll be up -to next." - -"_I_ shall have to be up to something first," said Pollock, staring -gloomily at the greasy cards that Perera was putting on the table. "It -don't suit my dignity to be followed about, and shot at, and blighted -in this way. I wonder if Porroh hokey-pokey upsets your luck at cards." - -He looked at Perera suspiciously. - -"Very likely it does," said Perera warmly, shuffling. "Dey are -wonderful people." - -That afternoon Pollock killed two snakes in his hammock, and there -was also an extraordinary increase in the number of red ants that -swarmed over the place; and these annoyances put him in a fit temper -to talk over business with a certain Mendi rough he had interviewed -before. The Mendi rough showed Pollock a little iron dagger, and -demonstrated where one struck in the neck, in a way that made Pollock -shiver, and in return for certain considerations Pollock promised him a -double-barrelled gun with an ornamental lock. - -In the evening, as Pollock and Perera were playing cards, the Mendi -rough came in through the doorway, carrying something in a blood-soaked -piece of native cloth. - -"Not here!" said Pollock very hurriedly. "Not here!" - -But he was not quick enough to prevent the man, who was anxious to get -to Pollock's side of the bargain, from opening the cloth and throwing -the head of the Porroh man upon the table. It bounded from there on to -the floor, leaving a red trail on the cards, and rolled into a corner, -where it came to rest upside down, but glaring hard at Pollock. - -Perera jumped up as the thing fell among the cards, and began in his -excitement to gabble in Portuguese. The Mendi was bowing, with the red -cloth in his hand. "De gun!" he said. Pollock stared back at the head -in the corner. It bore exactly the expression it had in his dreams. -Something seemed to snap in his own brain as he looked at it. - -Then Perera found his English again. - -"You got him killed?" he said. "You did not kill him yourself?" - -"Why should I?" said Pollock. - -"But he will not be able to take it off now!" - -"Take _what_ off?" said Pollock. - -"And all dese cards are spoiled!" - -"_What_ do you mean by taking off?" said Pollock. - -"You must send me a new pack from Freetown. You can buy dem dere." - -"But--'take it off'?" - -"It is only superstition. I forgot. De niggers say dat if de -witches--he was a witch-- But it is rubbish.... You must make de Porroh -man take it off, or kill him yourself.... It is very silly." - -Pollock swore under his breath, still staring hard at the head in the -corner. - -"I can't stand that glare," he said. Then suddenly he rushed at the -thing and kicked it. It rolled some yards or so, and came to rest in -the same position as before, upside down, and looking at him. - -"He is ugly," said the Anglo-Portuguese. "Very ugly. Dey do it on deir -faces with little knives." - -Pollock would have kicked the head again, but the Mendi man touched -him on the arm. "De gun?" he said, looking nervously at the head. - -"Two--if you will take that beastly thing away," said Pollock. - -The Mendi shook his head, and intimated that he only wanted one gun now -due to him, and for which he would be obliged. Pollock found neither -cajolery nor bullying any good with him. Perera had a gun to sell (at -a profit of three hundred per cent.), and with that the man presently -departed. Then Pollock's eyes, against his will, were recalled to the -thing on the floor. - -"It is funny dat his head keeps upside down," said Perera, with an -uneasy laugh. "His brains must be heavy, like de weight in de little -images one sees dat keep always upright wid lead in dem. You will take -him wiv you when you go presently. You might take him now. De cards are -all spoilt. Dere is a man sell dem in Freetown. De room is in a filty -mess as it is. You should have killed him yourself." - -Pollock pulled himself together, and went and picked up the head. He -would hang it up by the lamp-hook in the middle of the ceiling of his -room, and dig a grave for it at once. He was under the impression that -he hung it up by the hair, but that must have been wrong, for when he -returned for it, it was hanging by the neck upside down. - -He buried it before sunset on the north side of the shed he occupied, -so that he should not have to pass the grave after dark when he was -returning from Perera's. He killed two snakes before he went to -sleep. In the darkest part of the night he awoke with a start, and -heard a pattering sound and something scraping on the floor. He sat up -noiselessly, and felt under his pillow for his revolver. A mumbling -growl followed, and Pollock fired at the sound. There was a yelp, and -something dark passed for a moment across the hazy blue of the doorway. -"A dog!" said Pollock, lying down again. - -In the early dawn he awoke again with a peculiar sense of unrest. The -vague pain in his bones had returned. For some time he lay watching the -red ants that were swarming over the ceiling, and then, as the light -grew brighter, he looked over the edge of his hammock and saw something -dark on the floor. He gave such a violent start that the hammock -overset and flung him out. - -He found himself lying, perhaps, a yard away from the head of the -Porroh man. It had been disinterred by the dog, and the nose was -grievously battered. Ants and flies swarmed over it. By an odd -coincidence, it was still upside down, and with the same diabolical -expression in the inverted eyes. - -Pollock sat paralysed, and stared at the horror for some time. Then -he got up and walked round it--giving it a wide berth--and out of the -shed. The clear light of the sunrise, the living stir of vegetation -before the breath of the dying land-breeze, and the empty grave with -the marks of the dog's paws, lightened the weight upon his mind a -little. - -He told Perera of the business as though it was a jest--a jest to be -told with white lips. "You should not have frighten de dog," said -Perera, with poorly simulated hilarity. - -The next two days, until the steamer came, were spent by Pollock in -making a more effectual disposition of his possession. Overcoming -his aversion to handling the thing, he went down to the river mouth -and threw it into the sea-water, but by some miracle it escaped the -crocodiles, and was cast up by the tide on the mud a little way up -the river, to be found by an intelligent Arab half-breed, and offered -for sale to Pollock and Perera as a curiosity, just on the edge of -night. The native hung about in the brief twilight, making lower and -lower offers, and at last, getting scared in some way by the evident -dread these wise white men had for the thing, went off, and, passing -Pollock's shed, threw his burden in there for Pollock to discover in -the morning. - -At this Pollock got into a kind of frenzy. He would burn the thing. He -went out straightway into the dawn, and had constructed a big pyre of -brushwood before the heat of the day. He was interrupted by the hooter -of the little paddle steamer from Monrovia to Bathurst, which was -coming through the gap in the bar. "Thank Heaven!" said Pollock, with -infinite piety, when the meaning of the sound dawned upon him. With -trembling hands he lit his pile of wood hastily, threw the head upon -it, and went away to pack his portmanteau and make his adieux to Perera. - -That afternoon, with a sense of infinite relief, Pollock watched the -flat swampy foreshore of Sulyma grow small in the distance. The gap in -the long line of white surge became narrower and narrower. It seemed -to be closing in and cutting him off from his trouble. The feeling of -dread and worry began to slip from him bit by bit. At Sulyma belief in -Porroh malignity and Porroh magic had been in the air, his sense of -Porroh had been vast, pervading, threatening, dreadful. Now manifestly -the domain of Porroh was only a little place, a little black band -between the sea and the blue cloudy Mendi uplands. - -"Good-bye, Porroh!" said Pollock. "Good-bye--certainly not _au revoir_." - -The captain of the steamer came and leant over the rail beside him, and -wished him good-evening, and spat at the froth of the wake in token of -friendly ease. - -"I picked up a rummy curio on the beach this go," said the captain. -"It's a thing I never saw done this side of Indy before." - -"What might that be?" said Pollock. - -"Pickled 'ed," said the captain. - -"_What?_" said Pollock. - -"'Ed--smoked. 'Ed of one of these Porroh chaps, all ornamented with -knife-cuts. Why! What's up? Nothing? I shouldn't have took you for a -nervous chap. Green in the face. By gosh! you're a bad sailor. All -right, eh? Lord, how funny you went!... Well, this 'ed I was telling -you of is a bit rum in a way. I've got it, along with some snakes, in a -jar of spirit in my cabin what I keeps for such curios, and I'm hanged -if it don't float upsy down. Hullo!" - -Pollock had given an incoherent cry, and had his hands in his hair. He -ran towards the paddle-boxes with a half-formed idea of jumping into -the sea, and then he realised his position and turned back towards the -captain. - -"Here!" said the captain. "Jack Philips, just keep him off me! Stand -off! No nearer, mister! What's the matter with you? Are you mad?" - -Pollock put his hand to his head. It was no good explaining. "I believe -I am pretty nearly mad at times," he said. "It's a pain I have here. -Comes suddenly. You'll excuse me, I hope." - -He was white and in a perspiration. He saw suddenly very clearly all -the danger he ran of having his sanity doubted. He forced himself -to restore the captain's confidence, by answering his sympathetic -inquiries, noting his suggestions, even trying a spoonful of neat -brandy in his cheek, and, that matter settled, asking a number of -questions about the captain's private trade in curiosities. The captain -described the head in detail. All the while Pollock was struggling to -keep under a preposterous persuasion that the ship was as transparent -as glass, and that he could distinctly see the inverted face looking at -him from the cabin beneath his feet. - -Pollock had a worse time almost on the steamer than he had at Sulyma. -All day he had to control himself in spite of his intense perception -of the imminent presence of that horrible head that was overshadowing -his mind. At night his old nightmare returned, until, with a violent -effort, he would force himself awake, rigid with the horror of it, and -with the ghost of a hoarse scream in his throat. - -He left the actual head behind at Bathurst, where he changed ship -for Teneriffe, but not his dreams nor the dull ache in his bones. -At Teneriffe Pollock transferred to a Cape liner, but the head -followed him. He gambled, he tried chess, he even read books, but -he knew the danger of drink. Yet whenever a round black shadow, a -round black object came into his range, there he looked for the head, -and--saw it. He knew clearly enough that his imagination was growing -traitor to him, and yet at times it seemed the ship he sailed in, -his fellow-passengers, the sailors, the wide sea, was all part of a -filmy phantasmagoria that hung, scarcely veiling it, between him and a -horrible real world. Then the Porroh man, thrusting his diabolical face -through that curtain, was the one real and undeniable thing. At that he -would get up and touch things, taste something, gnaw something, burn -his hand with a match, or run a needle into himself. - -So, struggling grimly and silently with his excited imagination, -Pollock reached England. He landed at Southampton, and went on straight -from Waterloo to his banker's in Cornhill in a cab. There he transacted -some business with the manager in a private room, and all the while the -head hung like an ornament under the black marble mantel and dripped -upon the fender. He could hear the drops fall, and see the red on the -fender. - -"A pretty fern," said the manager, following his eyes. "But it makes -the fender rusty." - -"Very," said Pollock; "a _very_ pretty fern. And that reminds me. -Can you recommend me a physician for mind troubles? I've got a -little--what is it?--hallucination." - -The head laughed savagely, wildly. Pollock was surprised the manager -did not notice it. But the manager only stared at his face. - -With the address of a doctor, Pollock presently emerged in Cornhill. -There was no cab in sight, and so he went on down to the western end -of the street, and essayed the crossing opposite the Mansion House. -The crossing is hardly easy even for the expert Londoner; cabs, vans, -carriages, mail-carts, omnibuses go by in one incessant stream; to -anyone fresh from the malarious solitudes of Sierra Leone it is a -boiling, maddening confusion. But when an inverted head suddenly comes -bouncing, like an indiarubber ball, between your legs, leaving distinct -smears of blood every time it touches the ground, you can scarcely hope -to avoid an accident. Pollock lifted his feet convulsively to avoid -it, and then kicked at the thing furiously. Then something hit him -violently in the back, and a hot pain ran up his arm. - -He had been hit by the pole of an omnibus, and three of the fingers -of his left hand smashed by the hoof of one of the horses--the very -fingers, as it happened, that he shot from the Porroh man. They pulled -him out from between the horses' legs, and found the address of the -physician in his crushed hand. - -For a couple of days Pollock's sensations were full of the sweet, -pungent smell of chloroform, of painful operations that caused him no -pain, of lying still and being given food and drink. Then he had a -slight fever, and was very thirsty, and his old nightmare came back. It -was only when it returned that he noticed it had left him for a day. - -"If my skull had been smashed instead of my fingers, it might have gone -altogether," said Pollock, staring thoughtfully at the dark cushion -that had taken on for the time the shape of the head. - -Pollock at the first opportunity told the physician of his mind -trouble. He knew clearly that he must go mad unless something -should intervene to save him. He explained that he had witnessed -a decapitation in Dahomey, and was haunted by one of the heads. -Naturally, he did not care to state the actual facts. The physician -looked grave. - -Presently he spoke hesitatingly. "As a child, did you get very much -religious training?" - -"Very little," said Pollock. - -A shade passed over the physician's face. "I don't know if you have -heard of the miraculous cures--it may be, of course, they are not -miraculous--at Lourdes." - -"Faith-healing will hardly suit me, I am afraid," said Pollock, with -his eye on the dark cushion. - -The head distorted its scarred features in an abominable grimace. The -physician went upon a new track. "It's all imagination," he said, -speaking with sudden briskness. "A fair case for faith-healing, anyhow. -Your nervous system has run down, you're in that twilight state of -health when the bogles come easiest. The strong impression was too -much for you. I must make you up a little mixture that will strengthen -your nervous system--especially your brain. And you must take exercise." - -"I'm no good for faith-healing," said Pollock. - -"And therefore we must restore tone. Go in search of stimulating -air--Scotland, Norway, the Alps"-- - -"Jericho, if you like," said Pollock--"where Naaman went." - -However, so soon as his fingers would let him, Pollock made a gallant -attempt to follow out the doctor's suggestion. It was now November. -He tried football, but to Pollock the game consisted in kicking a -furious inverted head about a field. He was no good at the game. He -kicked blindly, with a kind of horror, and when they put him back into -goal, and the ball came swooping down upon him, he suddenly yelled -and got out of its way. The discreditable stories that had driven him -from England to wander in the tropics shut him off from any but men's -society, and now his increasingly strange behaviour made even his man -friends avoid him. The thing was no longer a thing of the eye merely; -it gibbered at him, spoke to him. A horrible fear came upon him that -presently, when he took hold of the apparition, it would no longer -become some mere article of furniture, but would _feel_ like a real -dissevered head. Alone, he would curse at the thing, defy it, entreat -it; once or twice, in spite of his grim self-control, he addressed it -in the presence of others. He felt the growing suspicion in the eyes of -the people that watched him--his landlady, the servant, his man. - -One day early in December his cousin Arnold--his next of kin--came to -see him and draw him out, and watch his sunken yellow face with narrow -eager eyes. And it seemed to Pollock that the hat his cousin carried -in his hand was no hat at all, but a Gorgon head that glared at him -upside down, and fought with its eyes against his reason. However, -he was still resolute to see the matter out. He got a bicycle, and, -riding over the frosty road from Wandsworth to Kingston, found the -thing rolling along at his side, and leaving a dark trail behind it. He -set his teeth and rode faster. Then suddenly, as he came down the hill -towards Richmond Park, the apparition rolled in front of him and under -his wheel, so quickly that he had no time for thought, and, turning -quickly to avoid it, was flung violently against a heap of stones and -broke his left wrist. - -The end came on Christmas morning. All night he had been in a fever, -the bandages encircling his wrist like a band of fire, his dreams more -vivid and terrible than ever. In the cold, colourless, uncertain light -that came before the sunrise, he sat up in his bed, and saw the head -upon the bracket in the place of the bronze jar that had stood there -overnight. - -"I know that is a bronze jar," he said, with a chill doubt at his -heart. Presently the doubt was irresistible. He got out of bed slowly, -shivering, and advanced to the jar with his hand raised. Surely -he would see now his imagination had deceived him, recognise the -distinctive sheen of bronze. At last, after an age of hesitation, -his fingers came down on the patterned cheek of the head. He withdrew -them spasmodically. The last stage was reached. His sense of touch had -betrayed him. - -Trembling, stumbling against the bed, kicking against his shoes with -his bare feet, a dark confusion eddying round him, he groped his way to -the dressing-table, took his razor from the drawer, and sat down on the -bed with this in his hand. In the looking-glass he saw his own face, -colourless, haggard, full of the ultimate bitterness of despair. - -He beheld in swift succession the incidents in the brief tale of his -experience. His wretched home, his still more wretched schooldays, -the years of vicious life he had led since then, one act of selfish -dishonour leading to another; it was all clear and pitiless now, all -its squalid folly, in the cold light of the dawn. He came to the -hut, to the fight with the Porroh man, to the retreat down the river -to Sulyma, to the Mendi assassin and his red parcel, to his frantic -endeavours to destroy the head, to the growth of his hallucination. It -was a hallucination! He _knew_ it was. A hallucination merely. For a -moment he snatched at hope. He looked away from the glass, and on the -bracket, the inverted head grinned and grimaced at him.... With the -stiff fingers of his bandaged hand he felt at his neck for the throb of -his arteries. The morning was very cold, the steel blade felt like ice. - - - - -THE RED ROOM - - -"I can assure you," said I, "that it will take a very tangible ghost to -frighten me." And I stood up before the fire with my glass in my hand. - -"It is your own choosing," said the man with the withered arm, and -glanced at me askance. - -"Eight-and-twenty years," said I, "I have lived, and never a ghost have -I seen as yet." - -The old woman sat staring hard into the fire, her pale eyes wide open. -"Ay," she broke in; "and eight-and-twenty years you have lived and -never seen the likes of this house, I reckon. There's a many things to -see, when one's still but eight-and-twenty." She swayed her head slowly -from side to side. "A many things to see and sorrow for." - -I half suspected the old people were trying to enhance the spiritual -terrors of their house by their droning insistence. I put down my empty -glass on the table and looked about the room, and caught a glimpse of -myself, abbreviated and broadened to an impossible sturdiness, in the -queer old mirror at the end of the room. "Well," I said, "if I see -anything to-night, I shall be so much the wiser. For I come to the -business with an open mind." - -"It's your own choosing," said the man with the withered arm once more. - -I heard the sound of a stick and a shambling step on the flags in the -passage outside, and the door creaked on its hinges as a second old man -entered, more bent, more wrinkled, more aged even than the first. He -supported himself by a single crutch, his eyes were covered by a shade, -and his lower lip, half-averted, hung pale and pink from his decaying -yellow teeth. He made straight for an arm-chair on the opposite side -of the table, sat down clumsily, and began to cough. The man with the -withered arm gave this new-comer a short glance of positive dislike; -the old woman took no notice of his arrival, but remained with her eyes -fixed steadily on the fire. - -"I said--it's your own choosing," said the man with the withered arm, -when the coughing had ceased for a while. - -"It's my own choosing," I answered. - -The man with the shade became aware of my presence for the first time, -and threw his head back for a moment and sideways, to see me. I caught -a momentary glimpse of his eyes, small and bright and inflamed. Then he -began to cough and splutter again. - -"Why don't you drink?" said the man with the withered arm, pushing -the beer towards him. The man with the shade poured out a glassful -with a shaky arm that splashed half as much again on the deal table. -A monstrous shadow of him crouched upon the wall and mocked his -action as he poured and drank. I must confess I had scarce expected -these grotesque custodians. There is to my mind something inhuman in -senility, something crouching and atavistic; the human qualities seem -to drop from old people insensibly day by day. The three of them made -me feel uncomfortable, with their gaunt silences, their bent carriage, -their evident unfriendliness to me and to one another. - -"If," said I, "you will show me to this haunted room of yours, I will -make myself comfortable there." - -The old man with the cough jerked his head back so suddenly that it -startled me, and shot another glance of his red eyes at me from under -the shade; but no one answered me. I waited a minute, glancing from one -to the other. - -"If," I said a little louder, "if you will show me to this haunted room -of yours, I will relieve you from the task of entertaining me." - -"There's a candle on the slab outside the door," said the man with the -withered arm, looking at my feet as he addressed me. "But if you go to -the red room to-night"-- - -("This night of all nights!" said the old woman.) - -"You go alone." - -"Very well," I answered. "And which way do I go?" - -"You go along the passage for a bit," said he, "until you come to a -door, and through that is a spiral staircase, and half-way up that is a -landing and another door covered with baize. Go through that and down -the long corridor to the end, and the red room is on your left up the -steps." - -"Have I got that right?" I said, and repeated his directions. He -corrected me in one particular. - -"And are you really going?" said the man with the shade, looking at me -again for the third time, with that queer, unnatural tilting of the -face. - -("This night of all nights!" said the old woman.) - -"It is what I came for," I said, and moved towards the door. As I did -so, the old man with the shade rose and staggered round the table, so -as to be closer to the others and to the fire. At the door I turned -and looked at them, and saw they were all close together, dark against -the firelight, staring at me over their shoulders, with an intent -expression on their ancient faces. - -"Good-night," I said, setting the door open. - -"It's your own choosing," said the man with the withered arm. - -I left the door wide open until the candle was well alight, and then I -shut them in and walked down the chilly, echoing passage. - -I must confess that the oddness of these three old pensioners in -whose charge her ladyship had left the castle, and the deep-toned, -old-fashioned furniture of the housekeeper's room in which they -foregathered, affected me in spite of my efforts to keep myself at a -matter-of-fact phase. They seemed to belong to another age, an older -age, an age when things spiritual were different from this of ours, -less certain; an age when omens and witches were credible, and ghosts -beyond denying. Their very existence was spectral; the cut of their -clothing, fashions born in dead brains. The ornaments and conveniences -of the room about them were ghostly--the thoughts of vanished men, -which still haunted rather than participated in the world of to-day. -But with an effort I sent such thoughts to the right-about. The long, -draughty subterranean passage was chilly and dusty, and my candle -flared and made the shadows cower and quiver. The echoes rang up and -down the spiral staircase, and a shadow came sweeping up after me, and -one fled before me into the darkness overhead. I came to the landing -and stopped there for a moment, listening to a rustling that I fancied -I heard; then, satisfied of the absolute silence, I pushed open the -baize-covered door and stood in the corridor. - -The effect was scarcely what I expected, for the moonlight, coming -in by the great window on the grand staircase, picked out everything -in vivid black shadow or silvery illumination. Everything was in its -place: the house might have been deserted on the yesterday instead of -eighteen months ago. There were candles in the sockets of the sconces, -and whatever dust had gathered on the carpets or upon the polished -flooring was distributed so evenly as to be invisible in the moonlight. -I was about to advance, and stopped abruptly. A bronze group stood upon -the landing, hidden from me by the corner of the wall, but its shadow -fell with marvellous distinctness upon the white panelling, and gave -me the impression of someone crouching to waylay me. I stood rigid for -half a minute perhaps. Then, with my hand in the pocket that held my -revolver, I advanced, only to discover a Ganymede and Eagle glistening -in the moonlight. That incident for a time restored my nerve, and a -porcelain Chinaman on a buhl table, whose head rocked silently as I -passed him, scarcely startled me. - -The door to the red room and the steps up to it were in a shadowy -corner. I moved my candle from side to side, in order to see clearly -the nature of the recess in which I stood before opening the door. Here -it was, thought I, that my predecessor was found, and the memory of -that story gave me a sudden twinge of apprehension. I glanced over my -shoulder at the Ganymede in the moonlight, and opened the door of the -red room rather hastily, with my face half turned to the pallid silence -of the landing. - -I entered, closed the door behind me at once, turned the key I found in -the lock within, and stood with the candle held aloft, surveying the -scene of my vigil, the great red room of Lorraine Castle, in which the -young duke had died. Or, rather, in which he had begun his dying, for -he had opened the door and fallen headlong down the steps I had just -ascended. That had been the end of his vigil, of his gallant attempt to -conquer the ghostly tradition of the place, and never, I thought, had -apoplexy better served the ends of superstition. And there were other -and older stories that clung to the room, back to the half-credible -beginning of it all, the tale of a timid wife and the tragic end that -came to her husband's jest of frightening her. And looking around that -large shadowy room, with its shadowy window bays, its recesses and -alcoves, one could well understand the legends that had sprouted in its -black corners, its germinating darkness. My candle was a little tongue -of light in its vastness, that failed to pierce the opposite end of the -room, and left an ocean of mystery and suggestion beyond its island of -light. - -I resolved to make a systematic examination of the place at once, and -dispel the fanciful suggestions of its obscurity before they obtained a -hold upon me. After satisfying myself of the fastening of the door, I -began to walk about the room, peering round each article of furniture, -tucking up the valances of the bed, and opening its curtains wide. I -pulled up the blinds and examined the fastenings of the several windows -before closing the shutters, leant forward and looked up the blackness -of the wide chimney, and tapped the dark oak panelling for any secret -opening. There were two big mirrors in the room, each with a pair of -sconces bearing candles, and on the mantelshelf, too, were more candles -in china candlesticks. All these I lit one after the other. The fire -was laid,--an unexpected consideration from the old housekeeper,--and I -lit it, to keep down any disposition to shiver, and when it was burning -well, I stood round with my back to it and regarded the room again. I -had pulled up a chintz-covered arm-chair and a table, to form a kind -of barricade before me, and on this lay my revolver ready to hand. My -precise examination had done me good, but I still found the remoter -darkness of the place, and its perfect stillness, too stimulating for -the imagination. The echoing of the stir and crackling of the fire -was no sort of comfort to me. The shadow in the alcove, at the end -in particular, had that undefinable quality of a presence, that odd -suggestion of a lurking living thing, that comes so easily in silence -and solitude. At last, to reassure myself, I walked with a candle into -it, and satisfied myself that there was nothing tangible there. I stood -that candle upon the floor of the alcove, and left it in that position. - -By this time I was in a state of considerable nervous tension, although -to my reason there was no adequate cause for the condition. My mind, -however, was perfectly clear. I postulated quite unreservedly that -nothing supernatural could happen, and to pass the time I began to -string some rhymes together, Ingoldsby fashion, of the original legend -of the place. A few I spoke aloud, but the echoes were not pleasant. -For the same reason I also abandoned, after a time, a conversation with -myself upon the impossibility of ghosts and haunting. My mind reverted -to the three old and distorted people downstairs, and I tried to keep -it upon that topic. The sombre reds and blacks of the room troubled me; -even with seven candles the place was merely dim. The one in the alcove -flared in a draught, and the fire-flickering kept the shadows and -penumbra perpetually shifting and stirring. Casting about for a remedy, -I recalled the candles I had seen in the passage, and, with a slight -effort, walked out into the moonlight, carrying a candle and leaving -the door open, and presently returned with as many as ten. These I put -in various knick-knacks of china with which the room was sparsely -adorned, lit and placed where the shadows had lain deepest, some on the -floor, some in the window recesses, until at last my seventeen candles -were so arranged that not an inch of the room but had the direct light -of at least one of them. It occurred to me that when the ghost came, I -could warn him not to trip over them. The room was now quite brightly -illuminated. There was something very cheery and reassuring in these -little streaming flames, and snuffing them gave me an occupation, and -afforded a reassuring sense of the passage of time. - -Even with that, however, the brooding expectation of the vigil weighed -heavily upon me. It was after midnight that the candle in the alcove -suddenly went out, and the black shadow sprang back to its place there. -I did not see the candle go out; I simply turned and saw that the -darkness was there, as one might start and see the unexpected presence -of a stranger. "By Jove!" said I aloud; "that draught's a strong one!" -and, taking the matches from the table, I walked across the room in a -leisurely manner to relight the corner again. My first match would not -strike, and as I succeeded with the second, something seemed to blink -on the wall before me. I turned my head involuntarily, and saw that the -two candles on the little table by the fireplace were extinguished. I -rose at once to my feet. - -"Odd!" I said. "Did I do that myself in a flash of absent-mindedness?" - -I walked back, relit one, and as I did so, I saw the candle in the -right sconce of one of the mirrors wink and go right out, and almost -immediately its companion followed it. There was no mistake about it. -The flame vanished, as if the wicks had been suddenly nipped between a -finger and a thumb, leaving the wick neither glowing nor smoking, but -black. While I stood gaping, the candle at the foot of the bed went -out, and the shadows seemed to take another step towards me. - -"This won't do!" said I, and first one and then another candle on the -mantelshelf followed. - -"What's up?" I cried, with a queer high note getting into my voice -somehow. At that the candle on the wardrobe went out, and the one I had -relit in the alcove followed. - -"Steady on!" I said. "These candles are wanted," speaking with a -half-hysterical facetiousness, and scratching away at a match the -while for the mantel candlesticks. My hands trembled so much that -twice I missed the rough paper of the matchbox. As the mantel emerged -from darkness again, two candles in the remoter end of the window -were eclipsed. But with the same match I also relit the larger mirror -candles, and those on the floor near the doorway, so that for the -moment I seemed to gain on the extinctions. But then in a volley there -vanished four lights at once in different corners of the room, and I -struck another match in quivering haste, and stood hesitating whither -to take it. - -As I stood undecided, an invisible hand seemed to sweep out the two -candles on the table. With a cry of terror, I dashed at the alcove, -then into the corner, and then into the window, relighting three, as -two more vanished by the fireplace; then, perceiving a better way, -I dropped the matches on the iron-bound deed-box in the corner, and -caught up the bedroom candlestick. With this I avoided the delay of -striking matches; but for all that the steady process of extinction -went on, and the shadows I feared and fought against returned, and -crept in upon me, first a step gained on this side of me and then on -that. It was like a ragged storm-cloud sweeping out the stars. Now and -then one returned for a minute, and was lost again. I was now almost -frantic with the horror of the coming darkness, and my self-possession -deserted me. I leaped panting and dishevelled from candle to candle, in -a vain struggle against that remorseless advance. - -I bruised myself on the thigh against the table, I sent a chair -headlong, I stumbled and fell and whisked the cloth from the table in -my fall. My candle rolled away from me, and I snatched another as I -rose. Abruptly this was blown out, as I swung it off the table, by the -wind of my sudden movement, and immediately the two remaining candles -followed. But there was light still in the room, a red light that -staved off the shadows from me. The fire! Of course, I could still -thrust my candle between the bars and relight it! - -I turned to where the flames were still dancing between the glowing -coals, and splashing red reflections upon the furniture, made two steps -towards the grate, and incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished, -the glow vanished, the reflections rushed together and vanished, and -as I thrust the candle between the bars, darkness closed upon me like -the shutting of an eye, wrapped about me in a stifling embrace, sealed -my vision, and crushed the last vestiges of reason from my brain. The -candle fell from my hand. I flung out my arms in a vain effort to -thrust that ponderous blackness away from me, and, lifting up my voice, -screamed with all my might--once, twice, thrice. Then I think I must -have staggered to my feet. I know I thought suddenly of the moonlit -corridor, and, with my head bowed and my arms over my face, made a run -for the door. - -But I had forgotten the exact position of the door, and struck myself -heavily against the corner of the bed. I staggered back, turned, and -was either struck or struck myself against some other bulky furniture. -I have a vague memory of battering myself thus, to and fro in the -darkness, of a cramped struggle, and of my own wild crying as I darted -to and fro, of a heavy blow at last upon my forehead, a horrible -sensation of falling that lasted an age, of my last frantic effort to -keep my footing, and then I remember no more. - - * * * * * - -I opened my eyes in daylight. My head was roughly bandaged, and the man -with the withered arm was watching my face. I looked about me, trying -to remember what had happened, and for a space I could not recollect. -I rolled my eyes into the corner, and saw the old woman, no longer -abstracted, pouring out some drops of medicine from a little blue -phial into a glass. "Where am I?" I asked. "I seem to remember you, and -yet I cannot remember who you are." - -They told me then, and I heard of the haunted Red Room as one who hears -a tale. "We found you at dawn," said he, "and there was blood on your -forehead and lips." - -It was very slowly I recovered my memory of my experience. "You believe -now," said the old man, "that the room is haunted?" He spoke no longer -as one who greets an intruder, but as one who grieves for a broken -friend. - -"Yes," said I; "the room is haunted." - -"And you have seen it. And we, who have lived here all our lives, have -never set eyes upon it. Because we have never dared.... Tell us, is it -truly the old earl who"-- - -"No," said I; "it is not." - -"I told you so," said the old lady, with the glass in her hand. "It is -his poor young countess who was frightened"-- - -"It is not," I said. "There is neither ghost of earl nor ghost of -countess in that room, there is no ghost there at all; but worse, far -worse"-- - -"Well?" they said. - -"The worst of all the things that haunt poor mortal man," said I; "and -that is, in all its nakedness--_Fear!_ Fear that will not have light -nor sound, that will not bear with reason, that deafens and darkens and -overwhelms. It followed me through the corridor, it fought against me -in the room"-- - -I stopped abruptly. There was an interval of silence. My hand went up -to my bandages. - -Then the man with the shade sighed and spoke. "That is it," said he. -"I knew that was it. A Power of Darkness. To put such a curse upon a -woman! It lurks there always. You can feel it even in the daytime, even -of a bright summer's day, in the hangings, in the curtains, keeping -behind you however you face about. In the dusk it creeps along the -corridor and follows you, so that you dare not turn. There is Fear in -that room of hers--black Fear, and there will be--so long as this house -of sin endures." - - - - -THE CONE - - -The night was hot and overcast, the sky red-rimmed with the lingering -sunset of midsummer. They sat at the open window, trying to fancy the -air was fresher there. The trees and shrubs of the garden stood stiff -and dark; beyond in the roadway a gas-lamp burnt, bright orange against -the hazy blue of the evening. Farther were the three lights of the -railway signal against the lowering sky. The man and woman spoke to one -another in low tones. - -"He does not suspect?" said the man, a little nervously. - -"Not he," she said peevishly, as though that too irritated her. "He -thinks of nothing but the works and the prices of fuel. He has no -imagination, no poetry." - -"None of these men of iron have," he said sententiously. "They have no -hearts." - -"_He_ has not," she said. She turned her discontented face towards the -window. The distant sound of a roaring and rushing drew nearer and -grew in volume; the house quivered; one heard the metallic rattle of -the tender. As the train passed, there was a glare of light above the -cutting and a driving tumult of smoke; one, two, three, four, five, -six, seven, eight black oblongs--eight trucks--passed across the dim -grey of the embankment, and were suddenly extinguished one by one in -the throat of the tunnel, which, with the last, seemed to swallow down -train, smoke, and sound in one abrupt gulp. - -"This country was all fresh and beautiful once," he said; "and now--it -is Gehenna. Down that way--nothing but pot-banks and chimneys belching -fire and dust into the face of heaven.... But what does it matter? An -end comes, an end to all this cruelty.... _To-morrow._" He spoke the -last word in a whisper. - -"_To-morrow_," she said, speaking in a whisper too, and still staring -out of the window. - -"Dear!" he said, putting his hand on hers. - -She turned with a start, and their eyes searched one another's. Hers -softened to his gaze. "My dear one!" she said, and then: "It seems -so strange--that you should have come into my life like this--to -open"-- She paused. - -"To open?" he said. - -"All this wonderful world"--she hesitated, and spoke still more -softly--"this world of _love_ to me." - -Then suddenly the door clicked and closed. They turned their heads, -and he started violently back. In the shadow of the room stood a great -shadowy figure--silent. They saw the face dimly in the half-light, with -unexpressive dark patches under the penthouse brows. Every muscle in -Raut's body suddenly became tense. When could the door have opened? -What had he heard? Had he heard all? What had he seen? A tumult of -questions. - -The new-comer's voice came at last, after a pause that seemed -interminable. "Well?" he said. - -"I was afraid I had missed you, Horrocks," said the man at the window, -gripping the window-ledge with his hand. His voice was unsteady. - -The clumsy figure of Horrocks came forward out of the shadow. He made -no answer to Raut's remark. For a moment he stood above them. - -The woman's heart was cold within her. "I told Mr. Raut it was just -possible you might come back," she said, in a voice that never quivered. - -Horrocks, still silent, sat down abruptly in the chair by her little -work-table. His big hands were clenched; one saw now the fire of his -eyes under the shadow of his brows. He was trying to get his breath. -His eyes went from the woman he had trusted to the friend he had -trusted, and then back to the woman. - -By this time and for the moment all three half understood one another. -Yet none dared say a word to ease the pent-up things that choked them. - -It was the husband's voice that broke the silence at last. - -"You wanted to see me?" he said to Raut. - -Raut started as he spoke. "I came to see you," he said, resolved to lie -to the last. - -"Yes," said Horrocks. - -"You promised," said Raut, "to show me some fine effects of moonlight -and smoke." - -"I promised to show you some fine effects of moonlight and smoke," -repeated Horrocks in a colourless voice. - -"And I thought I might catch you to-night before you went down to the -works," proceeded Raut, "and come with you." - -There was another pause. Did the man mean to take the thing coolly? Did -he after all know? How long had he been in the room? Yet even at the -moment when they heard the door, their attitudes.... Horrocks glanced -at the profile of the woman, shadowy pallid in the half-light. Then he -glanced at Raut, and seemed to recover himself suddenly. "Of course," -he said, "I promised to show you the works under their proper dramatic -conditions. It's odd how I could have forgotten." - -"If I am troubling you"--began Raut. - -Horrocks started again. A new light had suddenly come into the sultry -gloom of his eyes. "Not in the least," he said. - -"Have you been telling Mr. Raut of all these contrasts of flame and -shadow you think so splendid?" said the woman, turning now to her -husband for the first time, her confidence creeping back again, her -voice just one half-note too high. "That dreadful theory of yours -that machinery is beautiful, and everything else in the world ugly. I -thought he would not spare you, Mr. Raut. It's his great theory, his -one discovery in art." - -"I am slow to make discoveries," said Horrocks grimly, damping her -suddenly. "But what I discover...." He stopped. - -"Well?" she said. - -"Nothing;" and suddenly he rose to his feet. - -"I promised to show you the works," he said to Raut, and put his big, -clumsy hand on his friend's shoulder. "And you are ready to go?" - -"Quite," said Raut, and stood up also. - -There was another pause. Each of them peered through the indistinctness -of the dusk at the other two. Horrock's hand still rested on Raut's -shoulder. Raut half fancied still that the incident was trivial after -all. But Mrs. Horrocks knew her husband better, knew that grim quiet in -his voice, and the confusion in her mind took a vague shape of physical -evil. "Very well," said Horrocks, and, dropping his hand, turned -towards the door. - -"My hat?" Raut looked round in the half-light. - -"That's my work-basket," said Mrs. Horrocks, with a gust of hysterical -laughter. Their hands came together on the back of the chair. "Here it -is!" he said. She had an impulse to warn him in an undertone, but she -could not frame a word. "Don't go!" and "Beware of him!" struggled in -her mind, and the swift moment passed. - -"Got it?" said Horrocks, standing with the door half open. - -Raut stepped towards him. "Better say good-bye to Mrs. Horrocks," said -the ironmaster, even more grimly quiet in his tone than before. - -Raut started and turned. "Good-evening, Mrs. Horrocks," he said, and -their hands touched. - -Horrocks held the door open with a ceremonial politeness unusual in -him towards men. Raut went out, and then, after a wordless look at -her, her husband followed. She stood motionless while Raut's light -footfall and her husband's heavy tread, like bass and treble, passed -down the passage together. The front door slammed heavily. She went to -the window, moving slowly, and stood watching--leaning forward. The two -men appeared for a moment at the gateway in the road, passed under the -street lamp, and were hidden by the black masses of the shrubbery. The -lamplight fell for a moment on their faces, showing only unmeaning pale -patches, telling nothing of what she still feared, and doubted, and -craved vainly to know. Then she sank down into a crouching attitude in -the big arm-chair, her eyes wide open and staring out at the red lights -from the furnaces that flickered in the sky. An hour after she was -still there, her attitude scarcely changed. - -The oppressive stillness of the evening weighed heavily upon Raut. They -went side by side down the road in silence, and in silence turned into -the cinder-made by-way that presently opened out the prospect of the -valley. - -A blue haze, half dust, half mist, touched the long valley with -mystery. Beyond were Hanley and Etruria, grey and dark masses, -outlined thinly by the rare golden dots of the street lamps, and here -and there a gaslit window, or the yellow glare of some late-working -factory or crowded public-house. Out of the masses, clear and slender -against the evening sky, rose a multitude of tall chimneys, many of -them reeking, a few smokeless during a season of "play." Here and -there a pallid patch and ghostly stunted beehive shapes showed the -position of a pot-bank, or a wheel, black and sharp against the hot -lower sky, marked some colliery where they raise the iridescent coal -of the place. Nearer at hand was the broad stretch of railway, and -half invisible trains shunted--a steady puffing and rumbling, with -every run a ringing concussion and a rhythmic series of impacts, and a -passage of intermittent puffs of white steam across the further view. -And to the left, between the railway and the dark mass of the low hill -beyond, dominating the whole view, colossal, inky-black, and crowned -with smoke and fitful flames, stood the great cylinders of the Jeddah -Company Blast Furnaces, the central edifices of the big ironworks of -which Horrocks was the manager. They stood heavy and threatening, full -of an incessant turmoil of flames and seething molten iron, and about -the feet of them rattled the rolling-mills, and the steam-hammer beat -heavily and splashed the white iron sparks hither and thither. Even as -they looked, a truckful of fuel was shot into one of the giants, and -the red flames gleamed out, and a confusion of smoke and black dust -came boiling upwards towards the sky. - -"Certainly you get some fine effects of colour with your furnaces," -said Raut, breaking a silence that had become apprehensive. - -Horrocks grunted. He stood with his hands in his pockets, frowning down -at the dim steaming railway and the busy ironworks beyond, frowning as -if he were thinking out some knotty problem. - -Raut glanced at him and away again. "At present your moonlight effect -is hardly ripe," he continued, looking upward; "the moon is still -smothered by the vestiges of daylight." - -Horrocks stared at him with the expression of a man who has suddenly -awakened. "Vestiges of daylight?... Of course, of course." He too -looked up at the moon, pale still in the midsummer sky. "Come along," -he said suddenly, and, gripping Raut's arm in his hand, made a move -towards the path that dropped from them to the railway. - -Raut hung back. Their eyes met and saw a thousand things in a moment -that their lips came near to say. Horrocks's hand tightened and then -relaxed. He let go, and before Raut was aware of it, they were arm in -arm, and walking, one unwillingly enough, down the path. - -"You see the fine effect of the railway signals towards Burslem," -said Horrocks, suddenly breaking into loquacity, striding fast and -tightening the grip of his elbow the while. "Little green lights -and red and white lights, all against the haze. You have an eye for -effect, Raut. It's a fine effect. And look at those furnaces of mine, -how they rise upon us as we come down the hill. That to the right is -my pet--seventy feet of him. I packed him myself, and he's boiled -away cheerfully with iron in his guts for five long years. I've a -particular fancy for _him_. That line of red there--a lovely bit of -warm orange you'd call it, Raut--that's the puddlers' furnaces, and -there, in the hot light, three black figures--did you see the white -splash of the steam-hammer then?--that's the rolling-mills. Come along! -Clang, clatter, how it goes rattling across the floor! Sheet tin, -Raut,--amazing stuff. Glass mirrors are not in it when that stuff comes -from the mill. And, squelch!--there goes the hammer again. Come along!" - -He had to stop talking to catch at his breath. His arm twisted into -Raut's with benumbing tightness. He had come striding down the black -path towards the railway as though he was possessed. Raut had not -spoken a word, had simply hung back against Horrocks's pull with all -his strength. - -"I say," he said now, laughing nervously, but with an undernote of -snarl in his voice, "why on earth are you nipping my arm off, Horrocks, -and dragging me along like this?" - -At length Horrocks released him. His manner changed again. "Nipping -your arm off?" he said. "Sorry. But it's you taught me the trick of -walking in that friendly way." - -"You haven't learnt the refinements of it yet then," said Raut, -laughing artificially again. "By Jove! I'm black and blue." Horrocks -offered no apology. They stood now near the bottom of the hill, close -to the fence that bordered the railway. The ironworks had grown larger -and spread out with their approach. They looked up to the blast -furnaces now instead of down; the further view of Etruria and Hanley -had dropped out of sight with their descent. Before them, by the stile, -rose a notice-board, bearing, still dimly visible, the words, "BEWARE -OF THE TRAINS," half hidden by splashes of coaly mud. - -"Fine effects," said Horrocks, waving his arm. "Here comes a train. The -puffs of smoke, the orange glare, the round eye of light in front of -it, the melodious rattle. Fine effects! But these furnaces of mine used -to be finer, before we shoved cones in their throats, and saved the -gas." - -"How?" said Raut. "Cones?" - -"Cones, my man, cones. I'll show you one nearer. The flames used to -flare out of the open throats, great--what is it?--pillars of cloud by -day, red and black smoke, and pillars of fire by night. Now we run it -off in pipes, and burn it to heat the blast, and the top is shut by a -cone. You'll be interested in that cone." - -"But every now and then," said Raut, "you get a burst of fire and smoke -up there." - -"The cone's not fixed, it's hung by a chain from a lever, and balanced -by an equipoise. You shall see it nearer. Else, of course, there'd be -no way of getting fuel into the thing. Every now and then the cone -dips, and out comes the flare." - -"I see," said Raut. He looked over his shoulder. "The moon gets -brighter," he said. - -"Come along," said Horrocks abruptly, gripping his shoulder again, and -moving him suddenly towards the railway crossing. And then came one of -those swift incidents, vivid, but so rapid that they leave one doubtful -and reeling. Halfway across, Horrocks's hand suddenly clenched upon him -like a vice and swung him backward and through a half-turn, so that -he looked up the line. And there a chain of lamp-lit carriage-windows -telescoped swiftly as it came towards them, and the red and yellow -lights of an engine grew larger and larger, rushing down upon them. -As he grasped what this meant, he turned his face to Horrocks, and -pushed with all his strength against the arm that held him back between -the rails. The struggle did not last a moment. Just as certain as it -was that Horrocks held him there, so certain was it that he had been -violently lugged out of danger. - -"Out of the way," said Horrocks, with a gasp, as the train came -rattling by, and they stood panting by the gate into the ironworks. - -"I did not see it coming," said Raut, still, even in spite of his own -apprehensions, trying to keep up an appearance of ordinary intercourse. - -Horrocks answered with a grunt. "The cone," he said, and then, as one -who recovers himself, "I thought you did not hear." - -"I didn't," said Raut. - -"I wouldn't have had you run over then for the world," said Horrocks. - -"For a moment I lost my nerve," said Raut. - -Horrocks stood for half a minute, then turned abruptly towards the -ironworks again. "See how fine these great mounds of mine, these -clinker-heaps, look in the night! That truck yonder, up above there! -Up it goes, and out-tilts the slag. See the palpitating red stuff go -sliding down the slope. As we get nearer, the heap rises up and cuts -the blast furnaces. See the quiver up above the big one. Not that -way! This way, between the heaps. That goes to the puddling furnaces, -but I want to show you the canal first." He came and took Raut by the -elbow, and so they went along side by side. Raut answered Horrocks -vaguely. What, he asked himself, had really happened on the line? Was -he deluding himself with his own fancies, or had Horrocks actually held -him back in the way of the train? Had he just been within an ace of -being murdered? - -Suppose this slouching, scowling monster _did_ know anything? For a -minute or two then Raut was really afraid for his life, but the mood -passed as he reasoned with himself. After all, Horrocks might have -heard nothing. At anyrate, he had pulled him out of the way in time. -His odd manner might be due to the mere vague jealousy he had shown -once before. He was talking now of the ash-heaps and the canal. "Eigh?" -said Horrocks. - -"What?" said Raut. "Rather! The haze in the moonlight. Fine!" - -"Our canal," said Horrocks, stopping suddenly. "Our canal by moonlight -and firelight is an immense effect. You've never seen it? Fancy that! -You've spent too many of your evenings philandering up in Newcastle -there. I tell you, for real florid effects-- But you shall see. Boiling -water...." - -As they came out of the labyrinth of clinker-heaps and mounds of coal -and ore, the noises of the rolling-mill sprang upon them suddenly, -loud, near, and distinct. Three shadowy workmen went by and touched -their caps to Horrocks. Their faces were vague in the darkness. Raut -felt a futile impulse to address them, and before he could frame -his words, they passed into the shadows. Horrocks pointed to the -canal close before them now: a weird-looking place it seemed, in the -blood-red reflections of the furnaces. The hot water that cooled the -tuyčres came into it, some fifty yards up--a tumultuous, almost boiling -affluent, and the steam rose up from the water in silent white wisps -and streaks, wrapping damply about them, an incessant succession of -ghosts coming up from the black and red eddies, a white uprising that -made the head swim. The shining black tower of the larger blast-furnace -rose overhead out of the mist, and its tumultuous riot filled their -ears. Raut kept away from the edge of the water, and watched Horrocks. - -"Here it is red," said Horrocks, "blood-red vapour as red and hot as -sin; but yonder there, where the moonlight falls on it, and it drives -across the clinker-heaps, it is as white as death." - -Raut turned his head for a moment, and then came back hastily to his -watch on Horrocks. "Come along to the rolling-mills," said Horrocks. -The threatening hold was not so evident that time, and Raut felt a -little reassured. But all the same, what on earth did Horrocks mean -about "white as death" and "red as sin"? Coincidence, perhaps? - -They went and stood behind the puddlers for a little while, and then -through the rolling-mills, where amidst an incessant din the deliberate -steam-hammer beat the juice out of the succulent iron, and black, -half-naked Titans rushed the plastic bars, like hot sealing-wax, -between the wheels. "Come on," said Horrocks in Raut's ear, and they -went and peeped through the little glass hole behind the tuyčres, and -saw the tumbled fire writhing in the pit of the blast-furnace. It left -one eye blinded for a while. Then, with green and blue patches dancing -across the dark, they went to the lift by which the trucks of ore and -fuel and lime were raised to the top of the big cylinder. - -And out upon the narrow rail that overhung the furnace, Raut's -doubts came upon him again. Was it wise to be here? If Horrocks did -know--everything! Do what he would, he could not resist a violent -trembling. Right under foot was a sheer depth of seventy feet. It was a -dangerous place. They pushed by a truck of fuel to get to the railing -that crowned the place. The reek of the furnace, a sulphurous vapour -streaked with pungent bitterness, seemed to make the distant hillside -of Hanley quiver. The moon was riding out now from among a drift of -clouds, half-way up the sky above the undulating wooded outlines -of Newcastle. The steaming canal ran away from below them under an -indistinct bridge, and vanished into the dim haze of the flat fields -towards Burslem. - -"That's the cone I've been telling you of," shouted Horrocks; "and, -below that, sixty feet of fire and molten metal, with the air of the -blast frothing through it like gas in soda-water." - -Raut gripped the hand-rail tightly, and stared down at the cone. The -heat was intense. The boiling of the iron and the tumult of the blast -made a thunderous accompaniment to Horrocks's voice. But the thing had -to be gone through now. Perhaps, after all.... - -"In the middle," bawled Horrocks, "temperature near a thousand degrees. -If _you_ were dropped into it ... flash into flame like a pinch of -gunpowder in a candle. Put your hand out and feel the heat of his -breath. Why, even up here I've seen the rain-water boiling off the -trucks. And that cone there. It's a damned sight too hot for roasting -cakes. The top side of it's three hundred degrees." - -"Three hundred degrees!" said Raut. - -"Three hundred centigrade, mind!" said Horrocks. "It will boil the -blood out of you in no time." - -"Eigh?" said Raut, and turned. - -"Boil the blood out of you in.... No, you don't!" - -"Let me go!" screamed Raut. "Let go my arm!" - -With one hand he clutched at the hand-rail, then with both. For a -moment the two men stood swaying. Then suddenly, with a violent jerk, -Horrocks had twisted him from his hold. He clutched at Horrocks and -missed, his foot went back into empty air; in mid-air he twisted -himself, and then cheek and shoulder and knee struck the hot cone -together. - -He clutched the chain by which the cone hung, and the thing sank an -infinitesimal amount as he struck it. A circle of glowing red appeared -about him, and a tongue of flame, released from the chaos within, -flickered up towards him. An intense pain assailed him at the knees, -and he could smell the singeing of his hands. He raised himself to his -feet, and tried to climb up the chain, and then something struck his -head. Black and shining with the moonlight, the throat of the furnace -rose about him. - -Horrocks, he saw, stood above him by one of the trucks of fuel on the -rail. The gesticulating figure was bright and white in the moonlight, -and shouting, "Fizzle, you fool! Fizzle, you hunter of women! You -hot-blooded hound! Boil! boil! boil!" - -Suddenly he caught up a handful of coal out of the truck, and flung it -deliberately, lump after lump, at Raut. - -"Horrocks!" cried Raut. "Horrocks!" - -He clung crying to the chain, pulling himself up from the burning of -the cone. Each missile Horrocks flung hit him. His clothes charred -and glowed, and as he struggled the cone dropped, and a rush of hot -suffocating gas whooped out and burned round him in a swift breath of -flame. - -His human likeness departed from him. When the momentary red had -passed, Horrocks saw a charred, blackened figure, its head streaked -with blood, still clutching and fumbling with the chain, and writhing -in agony--a cindery animal, an inhuman, monstrous creature that began a -sobbing intermittent shriek. - -Abruptly, at the sight, the ironmaster's anger passed. A deadly -sickness came upon him. The heavy odour of burning flesh came drifting -up to his nostrils. His sanity returned to him. - -"God have mercy upon me!" he cried. "O God! what have I done?" - -He knew the thing below him, save that it still moved and felt, was -already a dead man--that the blood of the poor wretch must be boiling -in his veins. An intense realisation of that agony came to his mind, -and overcame every other feeling. For a moment he stood irresolute, and -then, turning to the truck, he hastily tilted its contents upon the -struggling thing that had once been a man. The mass fell with a thud, -and went radiating over the cone. With the thud the shriek ended, and -a boiling confusion of smoke, dust, and flame came rushing up towards -him. As it passed, he saw the cone clear again. - -Then he staggered back, and stood trembling, clinging to the rail with -both hands. His lips moved, but no words came to them. - -Down below was the sound of voices and running steps. The clangour of -rolling in the shed ceased abruptly. - - - - -THE PURPLE PILEUS - - -Mr. Coombes was sick of life. He walked away from his unhappy home, -and, sick not only of his own existence, but of everybody else's, -turned aside down Gaswork Lane to avoid the town, and, crossing the -wooden bridge that goes over the canal to Starling's Cottages, was -presently alone in the damp pinewoods and out of sight and sound of -human habitation. He would stand it no longer. He repeated aloud with -blasphemies unusual to him that he would stand it no longer. - -He was a pale-faced little man, with dark eyes and a fine and very -black moustache. He had a very stiff, upright collar slightly frayed, -that gave him an illusory double chin, and his overcoat (albeit -shabby) was trimmed with astrachan. His gloves were a bright brown -with black stripes over the knuckles, and split at the finger ends. -His appearance, his wife had said once in the dear, dead days beyond -recall,--before he married her, that is,--was military. But now she -called him-- It seems a dreadful thing to tell of between husband and -wife, but she called him "a little grub." It wasn't the only thing she -had called him, either. - -The row had arisen about that beastly Jennie again. Jennie was his -wife's friend, and, by no invitation of Mr. Coombes, she came in every -blessed Sunday to dinner, and made a shindy all the afternoon. She was -a big, noisy girl, with a taste for loud colours and a strident laugh; -and this Sunday she had outdone all her previous intrusions by bringing -in a fellow with her, a chap as showy as herself. And Mr. Coombes, -in a starchy, clean collar and his Sunday frock-coat, had sat dumb -and wrathful at his own table, while his wife and her guests talked -foolishly and undesirably, and laughed aloud. Well, he stood that, and -after dinner (which, "as usual," was late), what must Miss Jennie do -but go to the piano and play banjo tunes, for all the world as if it -were a week-day! Flesh and blood could not endure such goings on. They -would hear next door, they would hear in the road, it was a public -announcement of their disrepute. He had to speak. - -He had felt himself go pale, and a kind of rigour had affected his -respiration as he delivered himself. He had been sitting on one of -the chairs by the window--the new guest had taken possession of the -arm-chair. He turned his head. "Sun Day!" he said over the collar, in -the voice of one who warns. "Sun Day!" What people call a "nasty" tone -it was. - -Jennie had kept on playing, but his wife, who was looking through -some music that was piled on the top of the piano, had stared at him. -"What's wrong now?" she said; "can't people enjoy themselves?" - -"I don't mind rational 'njoyment, at all," said little Coombes, "but I -ain't a-going to have week-day tunes playing on a Sunday in this house." - -"What's wrong with my playing now?" said Jennie, stopping and twirling -round on the music-stool with a monstrous rustle of flounces. - -Coombes saw it was going to be a row, and opened too vigorously, as is -common with your timid, nervous men all the world over. "Steady on with -that music-stool!" said he; "it ain't made for 'eavy weights." - -"Never you mind about weights," said Jennie, incensed. "What was you -saying behind my back about my playing?" - -"Surely you don't 'old with not having a bit of music on a Sunday, Mr. -Coombes?" said the new guest, leaning back in the arm-chair, blowing -a cloud of cigarette smoke and smiling in a kind of pitying way. And -simultaneously his wife said something to Jennie about "Never mind 'im. -You go on, Jinny." - -"I do," said Mr. Coombes, addressing the new guest. - -"May I arst why?" said the new guest, evidently enjoying both his -cigarette and the prospect of an argument. He was, by the bye, a lank -young man, very stylishly dressed in bright drab, with a white cravat -and a pearl and silver pin. It had been better taste to come in a black -coat, Mr. Coombes thought. - -"Because," began Mr. Coombes, "it don't suit me. I'm a business man. I -'ave to study my connection. Rational 'njoyment"-- - -"His connection!" said Mrs. Coombes scornfully. "That's what he's -always a-saying. We got to do this, and we got to do that"-- - -"If you don't mean to study my connection," said Mr. Coombes, "what did -you marry me for?" - -"I wonder," said Jennie, and turned back to the piano. - -"I never saw such a man as you," said Mrs. Coombes. "You've altered all -round since we were married. Before"-- - -Then Jennie began at the tum, tum, tum again. - -"Look here!" said Mr. Coombes, driven at last to revolt, standing up -and raising his voice. "I tell you I won't have that." The frock-coat -heaved with his indignation. - -"No vi'lence, now," said the long young man in drab, sitting up. - -"Who the juice are you?" said Mr. Coombes fiercely. - -Whereupon they all began talking at once. The new guest said he was -Jennie's "intended," and meant to protect her, and Mr. Coombes said he -was welcome to do so anywhere but in his (Mr. Coombes') house; and Mrs. -Coombes said he ought to be ashamed of insulting his guests, and (as I -have already mentioned) that he was getting a regular little grub; and -the end was, that Mr. Coombes ordered his visitors out of the house, -and they wouldn't go, and so he said he would go himself. With his face -burning and tears of excitement in his eyes, he went into the passage, -and as he struggled with his overcoat--his frock-coat sleeves got -concertinaed up his arm--and gave a brush at his silk hat, Jennie began -again at the piano, and strummed him insultingly out of the house. -Tum, tum, tum. He slammed the shop door so that the house quivered. -That, briefly, was the immediate making of his mood. You will perhaps -begin to understand his disgust with existence. - -As he walked along the muddy path under the firs,--it was late October, -and the ditches and heaps of fir needles were gorgeous with clumps of -fungi,--he recapitulated the melancholy history of his marriage. It -was brief and commonplace enough. He now perceived with sufficient -clearness that his wife had married him out of a natural curiosity -and in order to escape from her worrying, laborious, and uncertain -life in the workroom; and, like the majority of her class, she was -far too stupid to realise that it was her duty to co-operate with -him in his business. She was greedy of enjoyment, loquacious, and -socially-minded, and evidently disappointed to find the restraints of -poverty still hanging about her. His worries exasperated her, and the -slightest attempt to control her proceedings resulted in a charge of -"grumbling." Why couldn't he be nice--as he used to be? And Coombes was -such a harmless little man, too, nourished mentally on _Self-Help_, and -with a meagre ambition of self-denial and competition, that was to end -in a "sufficiency." Then Jennie came in as a female Mephistopheles, -a gabbling chronicle of "fellers," and was always wanting his wife -to go to theatres, and "all that." And in addition were aunts of his -wife, and cousins (male and female), to eat up capital, insult him -personally, upset business arrangements, annoy good customers, and -generally blight his life. It was not the first occasion by many -that Mr. Coombes had fled his home in wrath and indignation, and -something like fear, vowing furiously and even aloud that he wouldn't -stand it, and so frothing away his energy along the line of least -resistance. But never before had he been quite so sick of life as on -this particular Sunday afternoon. The Sunday dinner may have had its -share in his despair--and the greyness of the sky. Perhaps, too, he -was beginning to realise his unendurable frustration as a business man -as the consequence of his marriage. Presently bankruptcy, and after -that-- Perhaps she might have reason to repent when it was too late. -And destiny, as I have already intimated, had planted the path through -the wood with evil-smelling fungi, thickly and variously planted it, -not only on the right side, but on the left. - -A small shopman is in such a melancholy position, if his wife turns out -a disloyal partner. His capital is all tied up in his business, and to -leave her, means to join the unemployed in some strange part of the -earth. The luxuries of divorce are beyond him altogether. So that the -good old tradition of marriage for better or worse holds inexorably for -him, and things work up to tragic culminations. Bricklayers kick their -wives to death, and dukes betray theirs; but it is among the small -clerks and shopkeepers nowadays that it comes most often to a cutting -of throats. Under the circumstances it is not so very remarkable--and -you must take it as charitably as you can--that the mind of Mr. Coombes -ran for a while on some such glorious close to his disappointed hopes, -and that he thought of razors, pistols, bread-knives, and touching -letters to the coroner denouncing his enemies by name, and praying -piously for forgiveness. After a time his fierceness gave way to -melancholia. He had been married in this very overcoat, in his first -and only frock-coat that was buttoned up beneath it. He began to recall -their courting along this very walk, his years of penurious saving to -get capital, and the bright hopefulness of his marrying days. For it -all to work out like this! Was there no sympathetic ruler anywhere in -the world? He reverted to death as a topic. - -He thought of the canal he had just crossed, and doubted whether he -shouldn't stand with his head out, even in the middle, and it was -while drowning was in his mind that the purple pileus caught his eye. -He looked at it mechanically for a moment, and stopped and stooped -towards it to pick it up, under the impression that it was some such -small leather object as a purse. Then he saw that it was the purple top -of a fungus, a peculiarly poisonous-looking purple: slimy, shiny, and -emitting a sour odour. He hesitated with his hand an inch or so from -it, and the thought of poison crossed his mind. With that he picked the -thing, and stood up again with it in his hand. - -The odour was certainly strong--acrid, but by no means disgusting. -He broke off a piece, and the fresh surface was a creamy white, that -changed like magic in the space of ten seconds to a yellowish-green -colour. It was even an inviting-looking change. He broke off two other -pieces to see it repeated. They were wonderful things these fungi, -thought Mr. Coombes, and all of them the deadliest poisons, as his -father had often told him. Deadly poisons! - -There is no time like the present for a rash resolve. Why not here -and now? thought Mr. Coombes. He tasted a little piece, a very little -piece indeed--a mere crumb. It was so pungent that he almost spat -it out again, then merely hot and full-flavoured. A kind of German -mustard with a touch of horse-radish and--well, mushroom. He swallowed -it in the excitement of the moment. Did he like it or did he not? -His mind was curiously careless. He would try another bit. It really -wasn't bad--it was good. He forgot his troubles in the interest of -the immediate moment. Playing with death it was. He took another -bite, and then deliberately finished a mouthful. A curious tingling -sensation began in his finger-tips and toes. His pulse began to move -faster. The blood in his ears sounded like a mill-race. "Try bi' more," -said Mr. Coombes. He turned and looked about him, and found his feet -unsteady. He saw and struggled towards a little patch of purple a dozen -yards away. "Jol' goo' stuff," said Mr. Coombes. "E--lomore ye'." He -pitched forward and fell on his face, his hands outstretched towards -the cluster of pilei. But he did not eat any more of them. He forgot -forthwith. - -He rolled over and sat up with a look of astonishment on his face. -His carefully brushed silk hat had rolled away towards the ditch. He -pressed his hand to his brow. Something had happened, but he could -not rightly determine what it was. Anyhow, he was no longer dull--he -felt bright, cheerful. And his throat was afire. He laughed in the -sudden gaiety of his heart. Had he been dull? He did not know; but at -anyrate he would be dull no longer. He got up and stood unsteadily, -regarding the universe with an agreeable smile. He began to remember. -He could not remember very well, because of a steam roundabout that -was beginning in his head. And he knew he had been disagreeable at -home, just because they wanted to be happy. They were quite right; life -should be as gay as possible. He would go home and make it up, and -reassure them. And why not take some of this delightful toadstool with -him, for them to eat? A hatful, no less. Some of those red ones with -white spots as well, and a few yellow. He had been a dull dog, an enemy -to merriment; he would make up for it. It would be gay to turn his -coat-sleeves inside out, and stick some yellow gorse into his waistcoat -pockets. Then home--singing--for a jolly evening. - - * * * * * - -After the departure of Mr. Coombes, Jennie discontinued playing, and -turned round on the music-stool again. "What a fuss about nothing," -said Jennie. - -"You see, Mr. Clarence, what I've got to put up with," said Mrs. -Coombes. - -"He is a bit hasty," said Mr. Clarence judicially. - -"He ain't got the slightest sense of our position," said Mrs. Coombes; -"that's what I complain of. He cares for nothing but his old shop; and -if I have a bit of company, or buy anything to keep myself decent, -or get any little thing I want out of the housekeeping money, there's -disagreeables. 'Economy,' he says; 'struggle for life,' and all that. -He lies awake of nights about it, worrying how he can screw me out of a -shilling. He wanted us to eat Dorset butter once. If once I was to give -in to him--there!" - -"Of course," said Jennie. - -"If a man values a woman," said Mr. Clarence lounging back in the -arm-chair, "he must be prepared to make sacrifices for her. For my own -part," said Mr. Clarence, with his eye on Jennie, "I shouldn't think -of marrying till I was in a position to do the thing in style. It's -downright selfishness. A man ought to go through the rough-and-tumble -by himself, and not drag her"-- - -"I don't agree altogether with that," said Jennie. "I don't see why -a man shouldn't have a woman's help, provided he doesn't treat her -meanly, you know. It's meanness"-- - -"You wouldn't believe," said Mrs. Coombes. "But I was a fool to 'ave -'im. I might 'ave known. If it 'adn't been for my father, we shouldn't -have had not a carriage to our wedding." - -"Lord! he didn't stick out at that?" said Mr. Clarence, quite shocked. - -"Said he wanted the money for his stock, or some such rubbish. Why, he -wouldn't have a woman in to help me once a week if it wasn't for my -standing out plucky. And the fusses he makes about money--comes to me, -well, pretty near crying, with sheets of paper and figgers. 'If only we -can tide over this year,' he says, 'the business is bound to go.' 'If -only we can tide over this year,' I says; 'then it'll be, if only we -can tide over next year. I know you,' I says. 'And you don't catch me -screwing myself lean and ugly. Why didn't you marry a slavey?' I says, -'if you wanted one--instead of a respectable girl,' I says." - -So Mrs. Coombes. But we will not follow this unedifying conversation -further. Suffice it that Mr. Coombes was very satisfactorily disposed -of, and they had a snug little time round the fire. Then Mrs. Coombes -went to get the tea, and Jennie sat coquettishly on the arm of Mr. -Clarence's chair until the tea-things clattered outside. "What was -that I heard?" asked Mrs. Coombes playfully, as she entered, and there -was badinage about kissing. They were just sitting down to the little -circular table when the first intimation of Mr. Coombes' return was -heard. - -This was a fumbling at the latch of the front door. - -"'Ere's my lord," said Mrs. Coombes. "Went out like a lion and comes -back like a lamb, I'll lay." - -Something fell over in the shop: a chair, it sounded like. Then there -was a sound as of some complicated step exercise in the passage. Then -the door opened and Coombes appeared. But it was Coombes transfigured. -The immaculate collar had been torn carelessly from his throat. His -carefully-brushed silk hat, half-full of a crush of fungi, was under -one arm; his coat was inside out, and his waistcoat adorned with -bunches of yellow-blossomed furze. These little eccentricities of -Sunday costume, however, were quite overshadowed by the change in his -face; it was livid white, his eyes were unnaturally large and bright, -and his pale blue lips were drawn back in a cheerless grin. "Merry!" -he said. He had stopped dancing to open the door. "Rational 'njoyment. -Dance." He made three fantastic steps into the room, and stood bowing. - -"Jim!" shrieked Mrs. Coombes, and Mr. Clarence sat petrified, with a -dropping lower jaw. - -"Tea," said Mr. Coombes. "Jol' thing, tea. Tose-stools, too. Brosher." - -"He's drunk," said Jennie in a weak voice. Never before had she seen -this intense pallor in a drunken man, or such shining, dilated eyes. - -Mr. Coombes held out a handful of scarlet agaric to Mr. Clarence. "Jo' -stuff," said he; "ta' some." - -At that moment he was genial. Then at the sight of their startled faces -he changed, with the swift transition of insanity, into overbearing -fury. And it seemed as if he had suddenly recalled the quarrel of his -departure. In such a huge voice as Mrs. Coombes had never heard before, -he shouted, "My house. I'm master 'ere. Eat what I give yer!" He bawled -this, as it seemed, without an effort, without a violent gesture, -standing there as motionless as one who whispers, holding out a handful -of fungus. - -Clarence approved himself a coward. He could not meet the mad fury in -Coombes' eyes; he rose to his feet, pushing back his chair, and turned, -stooping. At that Coombes rushed at him. Jennie saw her opportunity, -and, with the ghost of a shriek, made for the door. Mrs. Coombes -followed her. Clarence tried to dodge. Over went the tea-table with a -smash as Coombes clutched him by the collar and tried to thrust the -fungus into his mouth. Clarence was content to leave his collar behind -him, and shot out into the passage with red patches of fly agaric still -adherent to his face. "Shut 'im in!" cried Mrs. Coombes, and would have -closed the door, but her supports deserted her; Jennie saw the shop -door open, and vanished thereby, locking it behind her, while Clarence -went on hastily into the kitchen. Mr. Coombes came heavily against the -door, and Mrs. Coombes, finding the key was inside, fled upstairs and -locked herself in the spare bedroom. - -So the new convert to _joie de vivre_ emerged upon the passage, his -decorations a little scattered, but that respectable hatful of fungi -still under his arm. He hesitated at the three ways, and decided on the -kitchen. Whereupon Clarence, who was fumbling with the key, gave up -the attempt to imprison his host, and fled into the scullery, only to -be captured before he could open the door into the yard. Mr. Clarence -is singularly reticent of the details of what occurred. It seems that -Mr. Coombes' transitory irritation had vanished again, and he was once -more a genial playfellow. And as there were knives and meat choppers -about, Clarence very generously resolved to humour him and so avoid -anything tragic. It is beyond dispute that Mr. Coombes played with Mr. -Clarence to his heart's content; they could not have been more playful -and familiar if they had known each other for years. He insisted gaily -on Clarence trying the fungi, and after a friendly tussle, was smitten -with remorse at the mess he was making of his guest's face. It also -appears that Clarence was dragged under the sink and his face scrubbed -with the blacking brush,--he being still resolved to humour the lunatic -at any cost,--and that finally, in a somewhat dishevelled, chipped, and -discoloured condition, he was assisted to his coat and shown out by the -back door, the shopway being barred by Jennie. Mr. Coombes' wandering -thoughts then turned to Jennie. Jennie had been unable to unfasten the -shop door, but she shot the bolts against Mr. Coombes' latch-key, and -remained in possession of the shop for the rest of the evening. - -It would appear that Mr. Coombes then returned to the kitchen, still -in pursuit of gaiety, and, albeit a strict Good Templar, drank (or -spilt down the front of the first and only frock-coat) no less than -five bottles of the stout Mrs. Coombes insisted upon having for her -health's sake. He made cheerful noises by breaking off the necks of -the bottles with several of his wife's wedding-present dinner-plates, -and during the earlier part of this great drunk he sang divers merry -ballads. He cut his finger rather badly with one of the bottles,--the -only bloodshed in this story,--and what with that, and the systematic -convulsion of his inexperienced physiology by the liquorish brand -of Mrs. Coombes' stout, it may be the evil of the fungus poison was -somehow allayed. But we prefer to draw a veil over the concluding -incidents of this Sunday afternoon. They ended in the coal cellar, in a -deep and healing sleep. - - * * * * * - -An interval of five years elapsed. Again it was a Sunday afternoon -in October, and again Mr. Coombes walked through the pinewood beyond -the canal. He was still the same dark-eyed, black-moustached little -man that he was at the outset of the story, but his double chin was -now scarcely so illusory as it had been. His overcoat was new, with a -velvet lapel, and a stylish collar with turn-down corners, free of any -coarse starchiness, had replaced the original all-round article. His -hat was glossy, his gloves newish--though one finger had split and been -carefully mended. And a casual observer would have noticed about him a -certain rectitude of bearing, a certain erectness of head that marks -the man who thinks well of himself. He was a master now, with three -assistants. Beside him walked a larger sunburnt parody of himself, his -brother Tom, just back from Australia. They were recapitulating their -early struggles, and Mr. Coombes had just been making a financial -statement. - -"It's a very nice little business, Jim," said brother Tom. "In these -days of competition you're jolly lucky to have worked it up so. And -you're jolly lucky, too, to have a wife who's willing to help like -yours does." - -"Between ourselves," said Mr. Coombes, "it wasn't always so. It wasn't -always like this. To begin with, the missus was a bit giddy. Girls are -funny creatures." - -"Dear me!" - -"Yes. You'd hardly think it, but she was downright extravagant, and -always having slaps at me. I was a bit too easy and loving, and all -that, and she thought the whole blessed show was run for her. Turned -the 'ouse into a regular caravansery, always having her relations and -girls from business in, and their chaps. Comic songs a' Sunday, it was -getting to, and driving trade away. And she was making eyes at the -chaps, too! I tell you, Tom, the place wasn't my own." - -"Shouldn't 'a' thought it." - -"It was so. Well--I reasoned with her. I said, 'I ain't a duke, to keep -a wife like a pet animal. I married you for 'elp and company.' I said, -'You got to 'elp and pull the business through.' She wouldn't 'ear of -it. 'Very well,' I says; 'I'm a mild man till I'm roused,' I says, 'and -it's getting to that.' But she wouldn't 'ear of no warnings." - -"Well?" - -"It's the way with women. She didn't think I 'ad it in me to be roused. -Women of her sort (between ourselves, Tom) don't respect a man until -they're a bit afraid of him. So I just broke out to show her. In comes -a girl named Jennie, that used to work with her, and her chap. We 'ad -a bit of a row, and I came out 'ere--it was just such another day as -this--and I thought it all out. Then I went back and pitched into them." - -"You did?" - -"I did. I was mad, I can tell you. I wasn't going to 'it 'er, if I -could 'elp it, so I went back and licked into this chap, just to show -'er what I could do. 'E was a big chap, too. Well, I chucked him, and -smashed things about, and gave 'er a scaring, and she ran up and locked -'erself into the spare room." - -"Well?" - -"That's all. I says to 'er the next morning, 'Now you know,' I says, -'what I'm like when I'm roused.' And I didn't 'ave to say anything -more." - -"And you've been happy ever after, eh?" - -"So to speak. There's nothing like putting your foot down with them. If -it 'adn't been for that afternoon I should 'a' been tramping the roads -now, and she'd 'a' been grumbling at me, and all her family grumbling -for bringing her to poverty--I know their little ways. But we're all -right now. And it's a very decent little business, as you say." - -They proceed on their way meditatively. "Women are funny creatures," -said brother Tom. - -"They want a firm hand," says Coombes. - -"What a lot of these funguses there are about here!" remarked brother -Tom presently. "I can't see what use they are in the world." - -Mr. Coombes looked. "I dessay they're sent for some wise purpose," said -Mr. Coombes. - -And that was as much thanks as the purple pileus ever got for maddening -this absurd little man to the pitch of decisive action, and so altering -the whole course of his life. - - - - -THE JILTING OF JANE - - -As I sit writing in my study, I can hear our Jane bumping her way -downstairs with a brush and dustpan. She used in the old days to sing -hymn tunes, or the British national song for the time being, to these -instruments, but latterly she has been silent and even careful over -her work. Time was when I prayed with fervour for such silence, and -my wife with sighs for such care, but now they have come we are not -so glad as we might have anticipated we should be. Indeed, I would -rejoice secretly, though it may be unmanly weakness to admit it, even -to hear Jane sing "Daisy," or by the fracture of any plate but one of -Euphemia's best green ones, to learn that the period of brooding has -come to an end. - -Yet how we longed to hear the last of Jane's young man before we heard -the last of him! Jane was always very free with her conversation to -my wife, and discoursed admirably in the kitchen on a variety of -topics--so well, indeed, that I sometimes left my study door open--our -house is a small one--to partake of it. But after William came, it was -always William, nothing but William; William this and William that; -and when we thought William was worked out and exhausted altogether, -then William all over again. The engagement lasted altogether three -years; yet how she got introduced to William, and so became thus -saturated with him, was always a secret. For my part, I believe it -was at the street corner where the Rev. Barnabas Baux used to hold an -open-air service after evensong on Sundays. Young Cupids were wont to -flit like moths round the paraffin flare of that centre of High Church -hymn-singing. I fancy she stood singing hymns there, out of memory and -her imagination, instead of coming home to get supper, and William -came up beside her and said, "Hello!" "Hello yourself!" she said; and, -etiquette being satisfied, they proceeded to talk together. - -As Euphemia has a reprehensible way of letting her servants talk to -her, she soon heard of him. "He is _such_ a respectable young man, -ma'am," said Jane, "you don't know." Ignoring the slur cast on her -acquaintance, my wife inquired further about this William. - -"He is second porter at Maynard's, the draper's," said Jane, "and -gets eighteen shillings--nearly a pound--a week, m'm; and when the -head porter leaves he will be head porter. His relatives are quite -superior people, m'm. Not labouring people at all. His father was a -greengrosher, m'm, and had a chumor, and he was bankrup' twice. And one -of his sisters is in a Home for the Dying. It will be a very good match -for me, m'm," said Jane, "me being an orphan girl." - -"Then you are engaged to him?" asked my wife. - -"Not engaged, ma'am; but he is saving money to buy a ring--hammyfist." - -"Well, Jane, when you are properly engaged to him you may ask him round -here on Sunday afternoons, and have tea with him in the kitchen." -For my Euphemia has a motherly conception of her duty towards her -maid-servants. And presently the amethystine ring was being worn about -the house, even with ostentation, and Jane developed a new way of -bringing in the joint, so that this gage was evident. The elder Miss -Maitland was aggrieved by it, and told my wife that servants ought not -to wear rings. But my wife looked it up in _Enquire Within_ and _Mrs. -Motherly's Book of Household Management_, and found no prohibition. So -Jane remained with this happiness added to her love. - -The treasure of Jane's heart appeared to me to be what respectable -people call a very deserving young man. "William, ma'am," said Jane one -day suddenly, with ill-concealed complacency, as she counted out the -beer bottles, "William, ma'am, is a teetotaller. Yes, m'm; and he don't -smoke. Smoking, ma'am," said Jane, as one who reads the heart, "_do_ -make such a dust about. Beside the waste of money. _And_ the smell. -However, I suppose it's necessary to some." - -Possibly it dawned on Jane that she was reflecting a little severely -upon Euphemia's comparative ill-fortune, and she added kindly, "I'm -sure the master is a hangel when his pipe's alight. Compared to other -times." - -William was at first a rather shabby young man of the ready-made black -coat school of costume. He had watery grey eyes, and a complexion -appropriate to the brother of one in a Home for the Dying. Euphemia -did not fancy him very much, even at the beginning. His eminent -respectability was vouched for by an alpaca umbrella, from which he -never allowed himself to be parted. - -"He goes to chapel," said Jane. "His papa, ma'am"-- - -"His _what_, Jane?" - -"His papa, ma'am, was Church; but Mr. Maynard is a Plymouth Brother, -and William thinks it Policy, ma'am, to go there too. Mr. Maynard comes -and talks to him quite friendly, when they ain't busy, about using up -all the ends of string, and about his soul. He takes a lot of notice, -do Mr. Maynard, of William, and the way he saves string and his soul, -ma'am." - -Presently we heard that the head porter at Maynard's had left, and that -William was head porter at twenty-three shillings a week. "He is really -kind of over the man who drives the van," said Jane, "and him married -with three children." And she promised in the pride of her heart to -make interest for us with William to favour us so that we might get our -parcels of drapery from Maynard's with exceptional promptitude. - -After this promotion a rapidly increasing prosperity came upon Jane's -young man. One day, we learned that Mr. Maynard had given William a -book. "Smiles' Elp Yourself, it's called," said Jane; "but it ain't -comic. It tells you how to get on in the world, and some what William -read to me was _lovely_, ma'am." - -Euphemia told me of this laughing, and then she became suddenly grave. -"Do you know, dear," she said, "Jane said one thing I did not like. She -had been quiet for a minute, and then she suddenly remarked, 'William -is a lot above me, ma'am, ain't he?'" - -"I don't see anything in that," I said, though later my eyes were to be -opened. - -One Sunday afternoon about that time I was sitting at my -writing-desk--possibly I was reading a good book--when a something -went by the window. I heard a startled exclamation behind me, and -saw Euphemia with her hands clasped together and her eyes dilated. -"George," she said in an awestricken whisper, "did you see?" - -Then we both spoke to one another at the same moment, slowly and -solemnly: "_A silk hat! Yellow gloves! A new umbrella!_" - -"It may be my fancy, dear," said Euphemia; "but his tie was very like -yours. I believe Jane keeps him in ties. She told me a little while -ago in a way that implied volumes about the rest of your costume, 'The -master _do_ wear pretty ties, ma'am.' And he echoes all your novelties." - -The young couple passed our window again on their way to their -customary walk. They were arm in arm. Jane looked exquisitely proud, -happy, and uncomfortable, with new white cotton gloves, and William, in -the silk hat, singularly genteel! - -That was the culmination of Jane's happiness. When she returned, "Mr. -Maynard has been talking to William, ma'am," she said, "and he is to -serve customers, just like the young shop gentlemen, during the next -sale. And if he gets on, he is to be made an assistant, ma'am, at the -first opportunity. He has got to be as gentlemanly as he can, ma'am; -and if he ain't, ma'am, he says it won't be for want of trying. Mr. -Maynard has took a great fancy to him." - -"He _is_ getting on, Jane," said my wife. - -"Yes, ma'am," said Jane thoughtfully, "he _is_ getting on." - -And she sighed. - -That next Sunday, as I drank my tea, I interrogated my wife. "How is -this Sunday different from all other Sundays, little woman? What has -happened? Have you altered the curtains, or rearranged the furniture, -or where is the indefinable difference of it? Are you wearing your hair -in a new way without warning me? I clearly perceive a change in my -environment, and I cannot for the life of me say what it is." - -Then my wife answered in her most tragic voice: "George," she said, -"that--that William has not come near the place to-day! And Jane is -crying her heart out upstairs." - -There followed a period of silence. Jane, as I have said, stopped -singing about the house, and began to care for our brittle possessions, -which struck my wife as being a very sad sign indeed. The next Sunday, -and the next, Jane asked to go out, "to walk with William," and my -wife, who never attempts to extort confidences, gave her permission, -and asked no questions. On each occasion Jane came back looking -flushed and very determined. At last one day she became communicative. - -"William is being led away," she remarked abruptly, with a catching of -the breath, apropos of tablecloths. "Yes, m'm. She is a milliner, and -she can play on the piano." - -"I thought," said my wife, "that you went out with him on Sunday." - -"Not out with him, m'm--after him. I walked along by the side of them, -and told her he was engaged to me." - -"Dear me, Jane, did you? What did they do?" - -"Took no more notice of me than if I was dirt. So I told her she should -suffer for it." - -"It could not have been a very agreeable walk, Jane." - -"Not for no parties, ma'am. - -"I wish," said Jane, "I could play the piano, ma'am. But anyhow, I -don't mean to let _her_ get him away from me. She's older than him, and -her hair ain't gold to the roots, ma'am." - -It was on the August Bank Holiday that the crisis came. We do not -clearly know the details of the fray, but only such fragments as poor -Jane let fall. She came home dusty, excited, and with her heart hot -within her. - -The milliner's mother, the milliner, and William had made a party to -the Art Museum at South Kensington, I think. Anyhow, Jane had calmly -but firmly accosted them somewhere in the streets, and asserted her -right to what, in spite of the consensus of literature, she held to -be her inalienable property. She did, I think, go so far as to lay -hands on him. They dealt with her in a crushingly superior way. They -"called a cab." There was a "scene," William being pulled away into the -four-wheeler by his future wife and mother-in-law from the reluctant -hands of our discarded Jane. There were threats of giving her "in -charge." - -"My poor Jane!" said my wife, mincing veal as though she was mincing -William. "It's a shame of them. I would think no more of him. He is not -worthy of you." - -"No, m'm," said Jane. "He _is_ weak." - -"But it's that woman has done it," said Jane. She was never known -to bring herself to pronounce "that woman's" name or to admit her -girlishness. "I can't think what minds some women must have--to try and -get a girl's young man away from her. But there, it only hurts to talk -about it," said Jane. - -Thereafter our house rested from William. But there was something in -the manner of Jane's scrubbing the front doorstep or sweeping out the -rooms, a certain viciousness, that persuaded me that the story had not -yet ended. - -"Please, m'm, may I go and see a wedding to-morrow?" said Jane one day. - -My wife knew by instinct whose wedding. "Do you think it is wise, -Jane?" she said. - -"I would like to see the last of him," said Jane. - -"My dear," said my wife, fluttering into my room about twenty minutes -after Jane had started, "Jane has been to the boot-hole and taken all -the left-off boots and shoes, and gone off to the wedding with them in -a bag. Surely she cannot mean"-- - -"Jane," I said, "is developing character. Let us hope for the best." - -Jane came back with a pale, hard face. All the boots seemed to be still -in her bag, at which my wife heaved a premature sigh of relief. We -heard her go upstairs and replace the boots with considerable emphasis. - -"Quite a crowd at the wedding, ma'am," she said presently, in a purely -conversational style, sitting in our little kitchen, and scrubbing the -potatoes; "and such a lovely day for them." She proceeded to numerous -other details, clearly avoiding some cardinal incident. - -"It was all extremely respectable and nice, ma'am; but _her_ father -didn't wear a black coat, and looked quite out of place, ma'am. Mr. -Piddingquirk"-- - -"_Who?_" - -"Mr. Piddingquirk--William that _was_, ma'am--had white gloves, and -a coat like a clergyman, and a lovely chrysanthemum. He looked so -nice, ma'am. And there was red carpet down, just like for gentlefolks. -And they say he gave the clerk four shillings, ma'am. It was a real -kerridge they had--not a fly. When they came out of church there was -rice-throwing, and her two little sisters dropping dead flowers. And -someone threw a slipper, and then I threw a boot"-- - -"Threw a _boot_, Jane!" - -"Yes, ma'am. Aimed at _her_. But it hit _him_. Yes, ma'am, hard. Gev -him a black eye, I should think. I only threw that one. I hadn't the -heart to try again. All the little boys cheered when it hit him." - -After an interval--"I am sorry the boot hit _him_." - -Another pause. The potatoes were being scrubbed violently. "He always -_was_ a bit above me, you know, ma'am. And he was led away." - -The potatoes were more than finished. Jane rose sharply, with a sigh, -and rapped the basin down on the table. - -"I don't care," she said. "I don't care a rap. He will find out his -mistake yet. It serves me right. I was stuck up about him. I ought not -to have looked so high. And I am glad things are as things are." - -My wife was in the kitchen, seeing to the higher cookery. After the -confession of the boot-throwing, she must have watched poor Jane fuming -with a certain dismay in those brown eyes of hers. But I imagine they -softened again very quickly, and then Jane's must have met them. - -"Oh, ma'am," said Jane, with an astonishing change of note, "think -of all that _might_ have been! Oh, ma'am, I _could_ have been so -happy! I ought to have known, but I didn't know.... You're very kind -to let me talk to you, ma'am ... for it's hard on me, ma'am ... it's -har-r-r-r-d"-- - -And I gather that Euphemia so far forgot herself as to let Jane sob -out some of the fulness of her heart on a sympathetic shoulder. My -Euphemia, thank Heaven, has never properly grasped the importance of -"keeping up her position." And since that fit of weeping, much of the -accent of bitterness has gone out of Jane's scrubbing and brush work. - -Indeed, something passed the other day with the butcher-boy--but that -scarcely belongs to this story. However, Jane is young still, and time -and change are at work with her. We all have our sorrows, but I do not -believe very much in the existence of sorrows that never heal. - - - - -IN THE MODERN VEIN - -AN UNSYMPATHETIC LOVE STORY - - -Of course the cultivated reader has heard of Aubrey Vair. He has -published on three several occasions volumes of delicate verses,--some, -indeed, border on indelicacy,--and his column "Of Things Literary" in -the _Climax_ is well known. His Byronic visage and an interview have -appeared in the _Perfect Lady_. It was Aubrey Vair, I believe, who -demonstrated that the humour of Dickens was worse than his sentiment, -and who detected "a subtle bourgeois flavour" in Shakespeare. However, -it is not generally known that Aubrey Vair has had erotic experiences -as well as erotic inspirations. He adopted Goethe some little time -since as his literary prototype, and that may have had something to do -with his temporary lapse from sexual integrity. - -For it is one of the commonest things that undermine literary men, -giving us landslips and picturesque effects along the otherwise even -cliff of their respectable life, ranking next to avarice, and certainly -above drink, this instability called genius, or, more fully, the -consciousness of genius, such as Aubrey Vair possessed. Since Shelley -set the fashion, your man of gifts has been assured that his duty to -himself and his duty to his wife are incompatible, and his renunciation -of the Philistine has been marked by such infidelity as his means and -courage warranted. Most virtue is lack of imagination. At anyrate, -a minor genius without his affections twisted into an inextricable -muddle, and who did not occasionally shed sonnets over his troubles, I -have never met. - -Even Aubrey Vair did this, weeping the sonnets overnight into his -blotting-book, and pretending to write literary _causerie_ when his -wife came down in her bath slippers to see what kept him up. She did -not understand him, of course. He did this even before the other woman -appeared, so ingrained is conjugal treachery in the talented mind. -Indeed, he wrote more sonnets before the other woman came than after -that event, because thereafter he spent much of his leisure in cutting -down the old productions, retrimming them, and generally altering this -readymade clothing of his passion to suit her particular height and -complexion. - -Aubrey Vair lived in a little red villa with a lawn at the back and a -view of the Downs behind Reigate. He lived upon discreet investment -eked out by literary work. His wife was handsome, sweet, and gentle, -and--such is the tender humility of good married women--she found her -life's happiness in seeing that little Aubrey Vair had well-cooked -variety for dinner, and that their house was the neatest and brightest -of all the houses they entered. Aubrey Vair enjoyed the dinners, and -was proud of the house, yet nevertheless he mourned because his genius -dwindled. Moreover, he grew plump, and corpulence threatened him. - -We learn in suffering what we teach in song, and Aubrey Vair knew -certainly that his soul could give no creditable crops unless his -affections were harrowed. And how to harrow them was the trouble, for -Reigate is a moral neighbourhood. - -So Aubrey Vair's romantic longings blew loose for a time, much as a -seedling creeper might, planted in the midst of a flower-bed. But at -last, in the fulness of time, the other woman came to the embrace -of Aubrey Vair's yearning heart-tendrils, and his romantic episode -proceeded as is here faithfully written down. - -The other woman was really a girl, and Aubrey Vair met her first at -a tennis party at Redhill. Aubrey Vair did not play tennis after the -accident to Miss Morton's eye, and because latterly it made him pant -and get warmer and moister than even a poet should be; and this young -lady had only recently arrived in England, and could not play. So they -gravitated into the two vacant basket chairs beside Mrs. Bayne's deaf -aunt, in front of the hollyhocks, and were presently talking at their -ease together. - -The other woman's name was unpropitious,--Miss Smith,--but you would -never have suspected it from her face and costume. Her parentage -was promising, she was an orphan, her mother was a Hindoo, and her -father an Indian civil servant; and Aubrey Vair--himself a happy -mixture of Kelt and Teuton, as, indeed, all literary men have to be -nowadays--naturally believed in the literary consequences of a mixture -of races. She was dressed in white. She had finely moulded pale -features, great depth of expression, and a cloud of delicately _frisé_ -black hair over her dark eyes, and she looked at Aubrey Vair with a -look half curious and half shy, that contrasted admirably with the -stereotyped frankness of your common Reigate girl. - -"This is a splendid lawn--the best in Redhill," said Aubrey Vair in the -course of the conversation; "and I like it all the better because the -daisies are spared." He indicated the daisies with a graceful sweep of -his rather elegant hand. - -"They are sweet little flowers," said the lady in white, "and I have -always associated them with England, chiefly, perhaps, through a -picture I saw 'over there' when I was very little, of children making -daisy chains. I promised myself that pleasure when I came home. But, -alas! I feel now rather too large for such delights." - -"I do not see why we should not be able to enjoy these simple pleasures -as we grow older--why our growth should have in it so much forgetting. -For my own part"-- - -"Has your wife got Jane's recipe for stuffing trout?" asked Mrs. -Bayne's deaf aunt abruptly. - -"I really don't know," said Aubrey Vair. - -"That's all right," said Mrs. Bayne's deaf aunt. "It ought to please -even you." - -"Anything will please me," said Aubrey Vair; "I care very little"-- - -"Oh, it's a lovely dish," said Mrs. Bayne's deaf aunt, and relapsed -into contemplation. - -"I was saying," said Aubrey Vair, "that I think I still find my keenest -pleasures in childish pastimes. I have a little nephew that I see a -great deal of, and when we fly kites together, I am sure it would be -hard to tell which of us is the happier. By the bye, you should get at -your daisy chains in that way. Beguile some little girl." - -"But I did. I took that Morton mite for a walk in the meadows, and -timidly broached the subject. And she reproached me for suggesting -'frivolous pursuits.' It was a horrible disappointment." - -"The governess here," said Aubrey Vair, "is robbing that child of its -youth in a terrible way. What will a life be that has no childhood at -the beginning?" - -"Some human beings are never young," he continued, "and they never -grow up. They lead absolutely colourless lives. They are--they are -etiolated. They never love, and never feel the loss of it. They -are--for the moment I can think of no better image--they are human -flower-pots, in which no soul has been planted. But a human soul -properly growing must begin in a fresh childishness." - -"Yes," said the dark lady thoughtfully, "a careless childhood, running -wild almost. That should be the beginning." - -"Then we pass through the wonder and diffidence of youth." - -"To strength and action," said the dark lady. Her dreamy eyes were -fixed on the Downs, and her fingers tightened on her knees as she -spoke. "Ah, it is a grand thing to live--as a man does--self-reliant -and free." - -"And so at last," said Aubrey Vair, "come to the culmination and crown -of life." He paused and glanced hastily at her. Then he dropped his -voice almost to a whisper--"And the culmination of life is love." - -Their eyes met for a moment, but she looked away at once. Aubrey Vair -felt a peculiar thrill and a catching in his breath, but his emotions -were too complex for analysis. He had a certain sense of surprise, -also, at the way his conversation had developed. - -Mrs. Bayne's deaf aunt suddenly dug him in the chest with her -ear-trumpet, and someone at tennis bawled, "Love all!" - -"Did I tell you Jane's girls have had scarlet fever?" asked Mrs. -Bayne's deaf aunt. - -"No," said Aubrey Vair. - -"Yes; and they are peeling now," said Mrs. Bayne's deaf aunt, shutting -her lips tightly, and nodding in a slow, significant manner at both of -them. - -There was a pause. All three seemed lost in thought, too deep for words. - -"Love," began Aubrey Vair presently, in a severely philosophical tone, -leaning back in his chair, holding his hands like a praying saint's -in front of him, and staring at the toe of his shoe,--"love is, I -believe, the one true and real thing in life. It rises above reason, -interest, or explanation. Yet I never read of an age when it was so -much forgotten as it is now. Never was love expected to run so much in -appointed channels, never was it so despised, checked, ordered, and -obstructed. Policemen say, 'This way, Eros!' As a result, we relieve -our emotional possibilities in the hunt for gold and notoriety. And -after all, with the best fortune in these, we only hold up the gilded -images of our success, and are weary slaves, with unsatisfied hearts, -in the pageant of life." - -Aubrey Vair sighed, and there was a pause. The girl looked at him out -of the mysterious darkness of her eyes. She had read many books, but -Aubrey Vair was her first literary man, and she took this kind of thing -for genius--as girls have done before. - -"We are," continued Aubrey Vair, conscious of a favourable -impression,--"we are like fireworks, mere dead, inert things until the -appointed spark comes; and then--if it is not damp--the dormant soul -blazes forth in all its warmth and beauty. That is living. I sometimes -think, do you know, that we should be happier if we could die soon -after that golden time, like the Ephemerides. There is a decay sets in." - -"Eigh?" said Mrs. Bayne's deaf aunt startlingly. "I didn't hear you." - -"I was on the point of remarking," shouted Aubrey Vair, wheeling the -array of his thoughts,--"I was on the point of remarking that few -people in Redhill could match Mrs. Morton's fine broad green." - -"Others have noticed it," Mrs. Bayne's deaf aunt shouted back. "It is -since she has had in her new false teeth." - -This interruption dislocated the conversation a little. However-- - -"I must thank you, Mr. Vair," said the dark girl, when they parted that -afternoon, "for having given me very much to think about." - -And from her manner, Aubrey Vair perceived clearly he had not wasted -his time. - - * * * * * - -It would require a subtler pen than mine to tell how from that day a -passion for Miss Smith grew like Jonah's gourd in the heart of Aubrey -Vair. He became pensive, and in the prolonged absence of Miss Smith, -irritable. Mrs. Aubrey Vair felt the change in him, and put it down -to a vitriolic Saturday Reviewer. Indisputably the _Saturday_ does at -times go a little far. He re-read _Elective Affinities_; and lent it -to Miss Smith. Incredible as it may appear to members of the Areopagus -Club, where we know Aubrey Vair, he did also beyond all question -inspire a sort of passion in that sombre-eyed, rather clever, and -really very beautiful girl. - -He talked to her a lot about love and destiny, and all that bric-ą-brac -of the minor poet. And they talked together about his genius. He -elaborately, though discreetly, sought her society, and presented -and read to her the milder of his unpublished sonnets. We consider -his Byronic features pasty, but the feminine mind has its own laws. -I suppose, also, where a girl is not a fool, a literary man has an -enormous advantage over anyone but a preacher, in the show he can make -of his heart's wares. - -At last a day in that summer came when he met her alone, possibly by -chance, in a quiet lane towards Horley. There were ample hedges on -either side, rich with honeysuckle, vetch, and mullein. - -They conversed intimately of his poetic ambitions, and then he read -her those verses of his subsequently published in _Hobson's Magazine_: -"Tenderly ever, since I have met thee." He had written these the day -before; and though I think the sentiment is uncommonly trite, there is -a redeeming note of sincerity about the lines not conspicuous in all -Aubrey Vair's poetry. - -He read rather well, and a swell of genuine emotion crept into his -voice as he read, with one white hand thrown out to point the rhythm of -the lines. "Ever, my sweet, for thee," he concluded, looking up into -her face. - -Before he looked up, he had been thinking chiefly of his poem and its -effect. Straightway he forgot it. Her arms hung limply before her, and -her hands were clasped together. Her eyes were very tender. - -"Your verses go to the heart," she said softly. - -Her mobile features were capable of wonderful shades of expression. He -suddenly forgot his wife and his position as a minor poet as he looked -at her. It is possible that his classical features may themselves have -undergone a certain transfiguration. For one brief moment--and it was -always to linger in his memory--destiny lifted him out of his vain -little self to a nobler level of simplicity. The copy of "Tenderly -ever" fluttered from his hand. Considerations vanished. Only one thing -seemed of importance. - -"I love you," he said abruptly. - -An expression of fear came into her eyes. The grip of her hands upon -one another tightened convulsively. She became very pale. - -Then she moved her lips as if to speak, bringing her face slightly -nearer to his. There was nothing in the world at that moment for either -of them but one another. They were both trembling exceedingly. In a -whisper she said, "You love me?" - -Aubrey Vair stood quivering and speechless, looking into her eyes. He -had never seen such a light as he saw there before. He was in a wild -tumult of emotion. He was dreadfully scared at what he had done. He -could not say another word. He nodded. - -"And this has come to me?" she said presently, in the same awe-stricken -whisper, and then, "Oh, my love, my love!" - -And thereupon Aubrey Vair had her clasped to himself, her cheek upon -his shoulder and his lips to hers. - -Thus it was that Aubrey Vair came by the cardinal memory of his life. -To this day it recurs in his works. - -A little boy clambering in the hedge some way down the lane saw this -group with surprise, and then with scorn and contempt. Recking nothing -of his destiny, he turned away, feeling that he at least could never -come to the unspeakable unmanliness of hugging girls. Unhappily for -Reigate scandal, his shame for his sex was altogether too deep for -words. - - * * * * * - -An hour after, Aubrey Vair returned home in a hushed mood. There were -muffins after his own heart for his tea--Mrs. Aubrey Vair had had -hers. And there were chrysanthemums, chiefly white ones,--flowers he -loved,--set out in the china bowl he was wont to praise. And his wife -came behind him to kiss him as he sat eating. - -"De lill Jummuns," she remarked, kissing him under the ear. - -Then it came into the mind of Aubrey Vair with startling clearness, -while his ear was being kissed, and with his mouth full of muffin, that -life is a singularly complex thing. - - * * * * * - -The summer passed at last into the harvest-time, and the leaves began -falling. It was evening, the warm sunset light still touched the Downs, -but up the valley a blue haze was creeping. One or two lamps in Reigate -were already alight. - -About half-way up the slanting road that scales the Downs, there is -a wooden seat where one may obtain a fine view of the red villas -scattered below, and of the succession of blue hills beyond. Here the -girl with the shadowy face was sitting. - -She had a book on her knees, but it lay neglected. She was leaning -forward, her chin resting upon her hand. She was looking across the -valley into the darkening sky, with troubled eyes. - -Aubrey Vair appeared through the hazel-bushes, and sat down beside her. -He held half a dozen dead leaves in his hand. - -She did not alter her attitude. "Well?" she said. - -"Is it to be flight?" he asked. - -Aubrey Vair was rather pale. He had been having bad nights latterly, -with dreams of the Continental Express, Mrs. Aubrey Vair possibly even -in pursuit,--he always fancied her making the tragedy ridiculous by -tearfully bringing additional pairs of socks, and any such trifles he -had forgotten, with her,--all Reigate and Redhill in commotion. He had -never eloped before, and he had visions of difficulties with hotel -proprietors. Mrs. Aubrey Vair might telegraph ahead. Even he had had a -prophetic vision of a headline in a halfpenny evening newspaper: "Young -Lady abducts a Minor Poet." So there was a quaver in his voice as he -asked, "Is it to be flight?" - -"As you will," she answered, still not looking at him. - -"I want you to consider particularly how this will affect you. A man," -said Aubrey Vair, slowly, and staring hard at the leaves in his hand, -"even gains a certain éclat in these affairs. But to a woman it is -ruin--social, moral." - -"This is not love," said the girl in white. - -"Ah, my dearest! Think of yourself." - -"Stupid!" she said, under her breath. - -"You spoke?" - -"Nothing." - -"But cannot we go on, meeting one another, loving one another, without -any great scandal or misery? Could we not"-- - -"That," interrupted Miss Smith, "would be unspeakably horrible." - -"This is a dreadful conversation to me. Life is so intricate, such a -web of subtle strands binds us this way and that. I cannot tell what is -right. You must consider"-- - -"A man would break such strands." - -"There is no manliness," said Aubrey Vair, with a sudden glow of moral -exaltation, "in doing wrong. My love"-- - -"We could at least die together, dearest," she said. - -"Good Lord!" said Aubrey Vair. "I mean--consider my wife." - -"You have not considered her hitherto." - -"There is a flavour--of cowardice, of desertion, about suicide," said -Aubrey Vair. "Frankly, I have the English prejudice, and do not like -any kind of running away." - -Miss Smith smiled very faintly. "I see clearly now what I did not see. -My love and yours are very different things." - -"Possibly it is a sexual difference," said Aubrey Vair; and then, -feeling the remark inadequate, he relapsed into silence. - -They sat for some time without a word. The two lights in Reigate below -multiplied to a score of bright points, and, above, one star had become -visible. She began laughing, an almost noiseless, hysterical laugh that -jarred unaccountably upon Aubrey Vair. - -Presently she stood up. "They will wonder where I am," she said. "I -think I must be going." - -He followed her to the road. "Then this is the end?" he said, with a -curious mixture of relief and poignant regret. - -"Yes, this is the end," she answered, and turned away. - -There straightway dropped into the soul of Aubrey Vair a sense of -infinite loss. It was an altogether new sensation. She was perhaps -twenty yards away, when he groaned aloud with the weight of it, and -suddenly began running after her with his arms extended. - -"Annie," he cried,--"Annie! I have been talking _rot_. Annie, now -I know I love you! I cannot spare you. This must not be. I did not -understand." - -The weight was horrible. - -"Oh, stop, Annie!" he cried, with a breaking voice, and there were -tears on his face. - -She turned upon him suddenly, and his arms fell by his side. His -expression changed at the sight of her pale face. - -"You do not understand," she said. "I have said good-bye." - -She looked at him; he was evidently greatly distressed, a little out of -breath, and he had just stopped blubbering. His contemptible quality -reached the pathetic. She came up close to him, and, taking his damp -Byronic visage between her hands, she kissed him again and again. -"Good-bye, little man that I loved," she said; "and good-bye to this -folly of love." - -Then, with something that may have been a laugh or a sob,--she herself, -when she came to write it all in her novel, did not know which,--she -turned and hurried away again, and went out of the path that Aubrey -Vair must pursue, at the cross-roads. - -Aubrey Vair stood, where she had kissed him, with a mind as inactive -as his body, until her white dress had disappeared. Then he gave an -involuntary sigh, a large exhaustive expiration, and so awoke himself, -and began walking, pensively dragging his feet through the dead leaves, -home. Emotions are terrible things. - - * * * * * - -"Do you like the potatoes, dear?" asked Mrs. Aubrey Vair at dinner. "I -cooked them myself." - -Aubrey Vair descended slowly from cloudy, impalpable meditations to the -level of fried potatoes. "These potatoes"--he remarked, after a pause -during which he was struggling with recollection. "Yes. These potatoes -have exactly the tints of the dead leaves of the hazel." - -"What a fanciful poet it is!" said Mrs. Aubrey Vair. "Taste them. They -are very nice potatoes indeed." - - - - -A CATASTROPHE - - -The little shop was not paying. The realisation came insensibly. -Winslow was not the man for definite addition and subtraction -and sudden discovery. He became aware of the truth in his mind -gradually, as though it had always been there. A lot of facts had -converged and led him there. There was that line of cretonnes--four -half-pieces--untouched, save for half a yard sold to cover a stool. -There were those shirtings at 4¾d.--Bandersnatch, in the Broadway, -was selling them at 2¾d.--under cost, in fact. (Surely Bandersnatch -might let a man live!) Those servants' caps, a selling line, needed -replenishing, and that brought back the memory of Winslow's sole -wholesale dealers, Helter, Skelter, & Grab. Why! how about their -account? - -Winslow stood with a big green box open on the counter before him -when he thought of it. His pale grey eyes grew a little rounder; his -pale, straggling moustache twitched. He had been drifting along, day -after day. He went round to the ramshackle cash-desk in the corner--it -was Winslow's weakness to sell his goods over the counter, give his -customers a duplicate bill, and then dodge into the desk to receive -the money, as though he doubted his own honesty. His lank forefinger, -with the prominent joints, ran down the bright little calendar -("Clack's Cottons last for All Time"). "One--two--three; three weeks -an' a day!" said Winslow, staring. "March! Only three weeks and a day. -It _can't_ be." - -"Tea, dear," said Mrs. Winslow, opening the door with the glass window -and the white blind that communicated with the parlour. - -"One minute," said Winslow, and began unlocking the desk. - -An irritable old gentleman, very hot and red about the face, and in a -heavy fur-lined cloak, came in noisily. Mrs. Winslow vanished. - -"Ugh!" said the old gentleman. "Pocket-handkerchief." - -"Yes, sir," said Winslow. "About what price"-- - -"Ugh!" said the old gentleman. "Poggit-handkerchief, quig!" - -Winslow began to feel flustered. He produced two boxes. - -"These, sir"--began Winslow. - -"Sheed tin!" said the old gentleman, clutching the stiffness of the -linen. "Wad to blow my nose--not haggit about." - -"A cotton one, p'raps, sir?" said Winslow. - -"How much?" said the old gentleman over the handkerchief. - -"Sevenpence, sir. There's nothing more I can show you? No ties, -braces--?" - -"Damn!" said the old gentleman, fumbling in his ticket-pocket, and -finally producing half a crown. Winslow looked round for his little -metallic duplicate-book which he kept in various fixtures, according -to circumstances, and then he caught the old gentleman's eye. He -went straight to the desk at once and got the change, with an entire -disregard of the routine of the shop. - -Winslow was always more or less excited by a customer. But the open -desk reminded him of his trouble. It did not come back to him all at -once. He heard a finger-nail softly tapping on the glass, and, looking -up, saw Minnie's eyes over the blind. It seemed like retreat opening. -He shut and locked the desk, and went into the little room to tea. - -But he was preoccupied. Three weeks and a day! He took unusually large -bites of his bread and butter, and stared hard at the little pot of -jam. He answered Minnie's conversational advances distractedly. The -shadow of Helter, Skelter, & Grab lay upon the tea-table. He was -struggling with this new idea of failure, the tangible realisation, -that was taking shape and substance, condensing, as it were, out -of the misty uneasiness of many days. At present it was simply one -concrete fact; there were thirty-nine pounds left in the bank, and that -day three weeks Messrs. Helter, Skelter, & Grab, those enterprising -outfitters of young men, would demand their eighty pounds. - -After tea there was a customer or so--little purchases: some muslin -and buckram, dress-protectors, tape, and a pair of Lisle hose. Then, -knowing that Black Care was lurking in the dusky corners of the shop, -he lit the three lamps early and set to, refolding his cotton prints, -the most vigorous and least meditative proceeding of which he could -think. He could see Minnie's shadow in the other room as she moved -about the table. She was busy turning an old dress. He had a walk after -supper, looked in at the Y.M.C.A., but found no one to talk to, and -finally went to bed. Minnie was already there. And there, too, waiting -for him, nudging him gently, until about midnight he was hopelessly -awake, sat Black Care. - -He had had one or two nights lately in that company, but this was -much worse. First came Messrs. Helter, Skelter, & Grab, and their -demand for eighty pounds--an enormous sum when your original capital -was only a hundred and seventy. They camped, as it were, before him, -sat down and beleaguered him. He clutched feebly at the circumambient -darkness for expedients. Suppose he had a sale, sold things for almost -anything? He tried to imagine a sale miraculously successful in some -unexpected manner, and mildly profitable, in spite of reductions below -cost. Then Bandersnatch Limited, 101, 102, 103, 105, 106, 107 Broadway, -joined the siege, a long caterpillar of frontage, a battery of shop -fronts, wherein things were sold at a farthing above cost. How could -he fight such an establishment? Besides, what had he to sell? He began -to review his resources. What taking line was there to bait the sale? -Then straightway came those pieces of cretonne, yellow and black, with -a bluish-green flower; those discredited skirtings, prints without -buoyancy, skirmishing haberdashery, some despairful four-button gloves -by an inferior maker--a hopeless crew. And that was his force against -Bandersnatch, Helter, Skelter, & Grab, and the pitiless world behind -them. Whatever had made him think a mortal would buy such things? -Why had he bought this and neglected that? He suddenly realised the -intensity of his hatred for Helter, Skelter, & Grab's salesman. Then -he drove towards an agony of self-reproach. He had spent too much -on that cash-desk. What real need was there of a desk? He saw his -vanity of that desk in a lurid glow of self-discovery. And the lamps? -Five pounds! Then suddenly, with what was almost physical pain, he -remembered the rent. - -He groaned and turned over. And there, dim in the darkness, was the -hummock of Mrs. Winslow's shoulders. That set him off in another -direction. He became acutely sensible of Minnie's want of feeling. Here -he was, worried to death about business, and she sleeping like a little -child. He regretted having married, with that infinite bitterness that -only comes to the human heart in the small hours of the morning. That -hummock of white seemed absolutely without helpfulness, a burden, a -responsibility. What fools men were to marry! Minnie's inert repose -irritated him so much that he was almost provoked to wake her up and -tell her that they were "Ruined." She would have to go back to her -uncle; her uncle had always been against him: and as for his own -future, Winslow was exceedingly uncertain. A shop assistant who has -once set up for himself finds the utmost difficulty in getting into a -situation again. He began to figure himself "crib-hunting" again, going -from this wholesale house to that, writing innumerable letters. How -he hated writing letters! "Sir,--Referring to your advertisement in -the _Christian World_." He beheld an infinite vista of discomfort and -disappointment, ending--in a gulf. - -He dressed, yawning, and went down to open the shop. He felt tired -before the day began. As he carried the shutters in, he kept asking -himself what good he was doing. The end was inevitable, whether he -bothered or not. The clear daylight smote into the place, and showed -how old and rough and splintered was the floor, how shabby the -second-hand counter, how hopeless the whole enterprise. He had been -dreaming these past six months of a bright little shop, of a happy -couple, of a modest but comely profit flowing in. He had suddenly -awakened from his dream. The braid that bound his decent black coat--it -was a little loose--caught against the catch of the shop door, and was -torn loose. This suddenly turned his wretchedness to wrath. He stood -quivering for a moment, then, with a spiteful clutch, tore the braid -looser, and went in to Minnie. - -"Here," he said, with infinite reproach; "look here! You might look -after a chap a bit." - -"I didn't see it was torn," said Minnie. - -"You never do," said Winslow, with gross injustice, "until things are -too late." - -Minnie looked suddenly at his face. "I'll sew it now, Sid, if you like." - -"Let's have breakfast first," said Winslow, "and do things at their -proper time." - -He was preoccupied at breakfast, and Minnie watched him anxiously. -His only remark was to declare his egg a bad one. It wasn't; it was a -little flavoury,--being one of those at fifteen a shilling,--but quite -nice. He pushed it away from him, and then, having eaten a slice of -bread and butter, admitted himself in the wrong by resuming the egg. - -"Sid," said Minnie, as he stood up to go into the shop again, "you're -not well." - -"I'm _well_ enough." He looked at her as though he hated her. - -"Then there's something else the matter. You aren't angry with me, Sid, -are you, about that braid? _Do_ tell me what's the matter. You were -just like this at tea yesterday, and at supper-time. It wasn't the -braid then." - -"And I'm likely to be." - -She looked interrogation. "Oh, what _is_ the matter?" she said. - -It was too good a chance to miss, and he brought the evil news out with -dramatic force. "Matter?" he said. "I done my best, and here we are. -That's the matter! If I can't pay Helter, Skelter & Grab eighty pounds, -this day three week"--Pause. "We shall be sold up! Sold up! That's the -matter, Min! SOLD UP!" - -"Oh, Sid!" began Minnie. - -He slammed the door. For the moment he felt relieved of at least half -his misery. He began dusting boxes that did not require dusting, -and then reblocked a cretonne already faultlessly blocked. He was -in a state of grim wretchedness; a martyr under the harrow of fate. -At anyrate, it should not be said he failed for want of industry. -And how he had planned and contrived and worked! All to this end! -He felt horrible doubts. Providence and Bandersnatch--surely they -were incompatible! Perhaps he was being "tried"? That sent him -off upon a new tack, a very comforting one. That martyr pose, the -gold-in-the-furnace attitude, lasted all the morning. - -At dinner--"potato pie"--he looked up suddenly, and saw Minnie's face -regarding him. Pale she looked, and a little red about the eyes. -Something caught him suddenly with a queer effect upon his throat. All -his thoughts seemed to wheel round into quite a new direction. - -He pushed back his plate and stared at her blankly. Then he got up, -went round the table to her--she staring at him. He dropped on his -knees beside her without a word. "Oh, Minnie!" he said, and suddenly -she knew it was peace, and put her arms about him, as he began to sob -and weep. - -He cried like a little boy, slobbering on her shoulder that he was a -knave to have married her and brought her to this, that he hadn't the -wits to be trusted with a penny, that it was all his fault, that he -"_had_ hoped _so_"--ending in a howl. And she, crying gently herself, -patting his shoulders, said "_Ssh!_" softly to his noisy weeping, and -so soothed the outbreak. Then suddenly the crazy little bell upon the -shop door began, and Winslow had to jump to his feet, and be a man -again. - -After that scene they "talked it over" at tea, at supper, in -bed, at every possible interval in between, solemnly--quite -inconclusively--with set faces and eyes for the most part staring in -front of them--and yet with a certain mutual comfort. "What to do I -don't know," was Winslow's main proposition. Minnie tried to take a -cheerful view of service--with a probable baby. But she found she -needed all her courage. And her uncle would help her again, perhaps, -just at the critical time. It didn't do for folks to be too proud. -Besides, "something might happen," a favourite formula with her. - -One hopeful line was to anticipate a sudden afflux of customers. -"Perhaps," said Minnie, "you might get together fifty. They know you -well enough to trust you a bit." They debated that point. Once the -possibility of Helter, Skelter and Grab giving credit was admitted, -it was pleasant to begin sweating the acceptable minimum. For some -half-hour over tea the second day after Winslow's discoveries they -were quite cheerful again, laughing even at their terrific fears. Even -twenty pounds to go on with might be considered enough. Then in some -mysterious way the pleasant prospect of Messrs. Helter, Skelter, & Grab -tempering the wind to the shorn retailer vanished--vanished absolutely, -and Winslow found himself again in the pit of despair. - -He began looking about at the furniture, and wondering idly what -it would fetch. The chiffonier was good, anyhow, and there were -Minnie's old plates that her mother used to have. Then he began to -think of desperate expedients for putting off the evil day. He had -heard somewhere of Bills of Sale--there was to his ears something -comfortingly substantial in the phrase. Then, why not "Go to the -Money-Lenders"? - -One cheering thing happened on Thursday afternoon; a little girl came -in with a pattern of "print," and he was able to match it. He had not -been able to match anything out of his meagre stock before. He went -in and told Minnie. The incident is mentioned lest the reader should -imagine it was uniform despair with him. - -The next morning, and the next, after the discovery, Winslow opened -shop late. When one has been awake most of the night, and has no hope, -what _is_ the good of getting up punctually? But as he went into the -dark shop on Friday he saw something lying on the floor, something -lit by the bright light that came under the ill-fitting door--a black -oblong. He stooped and picked up an envelope with a deep mourning edge. -It was addressed to his wife. Clearly a death in her family--perhaps -her uncle. He knew the man too well to have expectations. And they -would have to get mourning and go to the funeral. The brutal cruelty -of people dying! He saw it all in a flash--he always visualised his -thoughts. Black trousers to get, black crape, black gloves--none in -stock--the railway fares, the shop closed for the day. - -"I'm afraid there's bad news, Minnie," he said. - -She was kneeling before the fireplace, blowing the fire. She had her -housemaid's gloves on and the old country sun-bonnet she wore of -a morning, to keep the dust out of her hair. She turned, saw the -envelope, gave a gasp, and pressed two bloodless lips together. - -"I'm afraid it's uncle," she said, holding the letter and staring with -eyes wide open into Winslow's face. "_It's a strange hand!_" - -"The postmark's Hull," said Winslow. - -"The postmark's Hull." - -Minnie opened the letter slowly, drew it out, hesitated, turned it -over, saw the signature. "It's Mr. Speight!" - -"What does he say?" said Winslow. - -Minnie began to read. "_Oh!_" she screamed. She dropped the letter, -collapsed into a crouching heap, her hands covering her eyes. Winslow -snatched at it. "A most terrible accident has occurred," he read; -"Melchior's chimney fell down yesterday evening right on the top of -your uncle's house, and every living soul was killed--your uncle, -your cousin Mary, Will and Ned, and the girl--every one of them, and -smashed--you would hardly know them. I'm writing to you to break the -news before you see it in the papers"--The letter fluttered from -Winslow's fingers. He put out his hand against the mantel to steady -himself. - -All of them dead! Then he saw, as in a vision, a row of seven cottages, -each let at seven shillings a week, a timber yard, two villas, and the -ruins--still marketable--of the avuncular residence. He tried to feel -a sense of loss and could not. They were sure to have been left to -Minnie's aunt. All dead! 7×7×52÷20 began insensibly to work itself out -in his mind, but discipline was ever weak in his mental arithmetic; -figures kept moving from one line to another, like children playing -at Widdy, Widdy Way. Was it two hundred pounds about--or one hundred -pounds? Presently he picked up the letter again, and finishing reading -it. "You being the next of kin," said Mr. Speight. - -"How _awful_!" said Minnie in a horror-struck whisper, and looking up -at last. Winslow stared back at her, shaking his head solemnly. There -were a thousand things running through his mind, but none that, even -to his dull sense, seemed appropriate as a remark. "It was the Lord's -will," he said at last. - -"It seems so very, very terrible," said Minnie; "auntie, dear -auntie--Ted--poor, dear uncle"-- - -"It was the Lord's will, Minnie," said Winslow, with infinite feeling. -A long silence. - -"Yes," said Minnie, very slowly, staring thoughtfully at the crackling -black paper in the grate. The fire had gone out. "Yes, perhaps it was -the Lord's will." - -They looked gravely at one another. Each would have been terribly -shocked at any mention of the property by the other. She turned to the -dark fireplace and began tearing up an old newspaper slowly. Whatever -our losses may be, the world's work still waits for us. Winslow gave a -deep sigh and walked in a hushed manner towards the front door. As he -opened it, a flood of sunlight came streaming into the dark shadows of -the closed shop. Bandersnatch, Helter, Skelter, & Grab, had vanished -out of his mind like the mists before the rising sun. - -Presently he was carrying in the shutters, and in the briskest way, -the fire in the kitchen was crackling exhilaratingly, with a little -saucepan walloping above it, for Minnie was boiling two eggs,--one for -herself this morning, as well as one for him,--and Minnie herself was -audible, laying breakfast with the greatest _éclat_. The blow was a -sudden and terrible one--but it behoves us to face such things bravely -in this sad, unaccountable world. It was quite midday before either of -them mentioned the cottages. - - - - -THE LOST INHERITANCE - - -"My uncle," said the man with the glass eye, "was what you might call -a hemi-semi-demi millionaire. He was worth about a hundred and twenty -thousand. Quite. And he left me all his money." - -I glanced at the shiny sleeve of his coat, and my eye travelled up to -the frayed collar. - -"Every penny," said the man with the glass eye, and I caught the active -pupil looking at me with a touch of offence. - -"I've never had any windfalls like that," I said, trying to speak -enviously and propitiate him. - -"Even a legacy isn't always a blessing," he remarked with a sigh, and -with an air of philosophical resignation he put the red nose and the -wiry moustache into his tankard for a space. - -"Perhaps not," I said. - -"He was an author, you see, and he wrote a lot of books." - -"Indeed!" - -"That was the trouble of it all." He stared at me with the available -eye to see if I grasped his statement, then averted his face a little -and produced a toothpick. - -"You see," he said, smacking his lips after a pause, "it was like this. -He was my uncle--my maternal uncle. And he had--what shall I call -it?--a weakness for writing edifying literature. Weakness is hardly -the word--downright mania is nearer the mark. He'd been librarian in a -Polytechnic, and as soon as the money came to him he began to indulge -his ambition. It's a simply extraordinary and incomprehensible thing -to me. Here was a man of thirty-seven suddenly dropped into a perfect -pile of gold, and he didn't go--not a day's bust on it. One would think -a chap would go and get himself dressed a bit decent--say a couple of -dozen pairs of trousers at a West End tailor's; but he never did. You'd -hardly believe it, but when he died he hadn't even a gold watch. It -seems wrong for people like that to have money. All he did was just to -take a house, and order in pretty nearly five tons of books and ink and -paper, and set to writing edifying literature as hard as ever he could -write. I _can't_ understand it! But he did. The money came to him, -curiously enough, through a maternal uncle of _his_, unexpected like, -when he was seven-and-thirty. My mother, it happened, was his only -relation in the wide, wide world, except some second cousins of his. -And I was her only son. You follow all that? The second cousins had one -only son, too, but they brought him to see the old man too soon. He was -rather a spoilt youngster, was this son of theirs, and directly he set -eyes on my uncle, he began bawling out as hard as he could. 'Take 'im -away--er,' he says, 'take 'im away,' and so did for himself entirely. -It was pretty straight sailing, you'd think, for me, eh? And my mother, -being a sensible, careful woman, settled the business in her own mind -long before he did. - -"He was a curious little chap, was my uncle, as I remember him. I -don't wonder at the kid being scared. Hair, just like these Japanese -dolls they sell, black and straight and stiff all round the brim and -none in the middle, and below, a whitish kind of face and rather -large dark grey eyes moving about behind his spectacles. He used to -attach a great deal of importance to dress, and always wore a flapping -overcoat and a big-brimmed felt hat of a most extraordinary size. He -looked a rummy little beggar, I can tell you. Indoors it was, as a -rule, a dirty red flannel dressing-gown and a black skull-cap he had. -That black skull-cap made him look like the portraits of all kinds of -celebrated people. He was always moving about from house to house, -was my uncle, with his chair which had belonged to Savage Landor, and -his two writing-tables, one of Carlyle's and the other of Shelley's, -so the dealer told him, and the completest portable reference library -in England, he said he had--and he lugged the whole caravan, now to a -house at Down, near Darwin's old place, then to Reigate, near Meredith, -then off to Haslemere, then back to Chelsea for a bit, and then up to -Hampstead. He knew there was something wrong with his stuff, but he -never knew there was anything wrong with his brains. It was always the -air, or the water, or the altitude, or some tommy-rot like that. 'So -much depends on environment,' he used to say, and stare at you hard, as -if he half suspected you were hiding a grin at him somewhere under your -face. 'So much depends on environment to a sensitive mind like mine.' - -"What was his name? You wouldn't know it if I told you. He wrote -nothing that anyone has ever read--nothing. No one _could_ read it. -He wanted to be a great teacher, he said, and he didn't know what he -wanted to teach any more than a child. So he just blethered at large -about Truth and Righteousness, and the Spirit of History, and all -that. Book after book he wrote and published at his own expense. He -wasn't quite right in his head, you know, really; and to hear him go -on at the critics--not because they slated him, mind you--he liked -that--but because they didn't take any notice of him at all. 'What -do the nations want?' he would ask, holding out his brown old claw. -'Why, teaching--guidance! They are scattered upon the hills like sheep -without a shepherd. There is War and Rumours of War, the unlaid Spirit -of Discord abroad in the land, Nihilism, Vivisection, Vaccination, -Drunkenness, Penury, Want, Socialistic Error, Selfish Capital! Do -you see the clouds, Ted?'--My name, you know--'Do you see the clouds -lowering over the land? and behind it all--the Mongol waits!' He -was always very great on Mongols and the Spectre of Socialism, and -such-like things. - -"Then out would come his finger at me, and with his eyes all afire and -his skull-cap askew, he would whisper: 'And here am I. What do I want? -Nations to teach. Nations! I say it with all modesty, Ted, I _could_. I -would guide them; nay! but I _will_ guide them to a safe haven, to the -land of Righteousness, flowing with milk and honey.' - -"That's how he used to go on. Ramble, rave about the nations, and -righteousness, and that kind of thing. Kind of mincemeat of Bible and -blethers. From fourteen up to three-and-twenty, when I might have -been improving my mind, my mother used to wash me and brush my hair -(at least in the earlier years of it), with a nice parting down the -middle, and take me, once or twice a week, to hear this old lunatic -jabber about things he had read of in the morning papers, trying to do -it as much like Carlyle as he could, and I used to sit according to -instructions, and look intelligent and nice, and pretend to be taking -it all in. Afterwards I used to go of my own free will, out of a regard -for the legacy. I was the only person that used to go and see him. -He wrote, I believe, to every man who made the slightest stir in the -world, sending him a copy or so of his books, and inviting him to come -and talk about the nations to him; but half of them didn't answer, -and none ever came. And when the girl let you in--she was an artful -bit of goods, that girl--there were heaps of letters on the hall-seat -waiting to go off, addressed to Prince Bismark, the President of the -United States, and such-like people. And one went up the staircase -and along the cobwebby passage,--the housekeeper drank like fury, and -his passages were always cobwebby,--and found him at last, with books -turned down all over the room, and heaps of torn paper on the floor, -and telegrams and newspapers littered about, and empty coffee-cups and -half-eaten bits of toast on the desk and the mantel. You'd see his back -humped up, and his hair would be sticking out quite straight between -the collar of that dressing-gown thing and the edge of the skull-cap. - -"'A moment!' he would say. 'A moment!' over his shoulder. 'The _mot -juste_, you know, Ted, _le mot juste_. Righteous thought righteously -expressed--Aah!--concatenation. And now, Ted,' he'd say, spinning round -in his study chair, 'how's Young England?' That was his silly name for -me. - -"Well, that was my uncle, and that was how he talked--to me, at -anyrate. With others about he seemed a bit shy. And he not only talked -to me, but he gave me his books, books of six hundred pages or so, -with cock-eyed headings, 'The Shrieking Sisterhood,' 'The Behemoth of -Bigotry,' 'Crucibles and Cullenders,' and so on. All very strong, and -none of them original. The very last time but one that I saw him he -gave me a book. He was feeling ill even then, and his hand shook and he -was despondent. I noticed it because I was naturally on the look-out -for those little symptoms. 'My last book, Ted,' he said. 'My last book, -my boy; my last word to the deaf and hardened nations;' and I'm hanged -if a tear didn't go rolling down his yellow old cheek. He was regular -crying because it was so nearly over, and he hadn't only written about -fifty-three books of rubbish. 'I've sometimes thought, Ted'--he said, -and stopped. - -"'Perhaps I've been a bit hasty and angry with this stiff-necked -generation. A little more sweetness, perhaps, and a little less -blinding light. I've sometimes thought--I might have swayed them. But -I've done my best, Ted.' - -"And then, with a burst, for the first and last time in his life -he owned himself a failure. It showed he was really ill. He seemed -to think for a minute, and then he spoke quietly and low, as sane -and sober as I am now. 'I've been a fool, Ted,' he said. 'I've been -flapping nonsense all my life. Only He who readeth the heart knows -whether this is anything more than vanity. Ted, I don't. But He knows, -He knows, and if I have done foolishly and vainly, in my heart--in my -heart'-- - -"Just like that he spoke, repeating himself, and he stopped quite short -and handed the book to me, trembling. Then the old shine came back into -his eye. I remember it all fairly well, because I repeated it and acted -it to my old mother when I got home, to cheer her up a bit. 'Take this -book and read it,' he said. 'It's my last word, my very last word. I've -left all my property to you, Ted, and may you use it better than I have -done.' And then he fell a-coughing. - -"I remember that quite well even now, and how I went home cock-a-hoop, -and how he was in bed the next time I called. The housekeeper was -downstairs drunk, and I fooled about--as a young man will--with the -girl in the passage before I went to him. He was sinking fast. But even -then his vanity clung to him. - -"'Have you read it?' he whispered. - -"'Sat up all night reading it,' I said in his ear to cheer him. 'It's -the last,' said I, and then, with a memory of some poetry or other in -my head, 'but it's the bravest and best.' - -"He smiled a little and tried to squeeze my hand as a woman might do, -and left off squeezing in the middle, and lay still. 'The bravest and -the best,' said I again, seeing it pleased him. But he didn't answer. -I heard the girl giggle outside the door, for occasionally we'd had -just a bit of innocent laughter, you know, at his ways. I looked at -his face, and his eyes were closed, and it was just as if somebody had -punched in his nose on either side. But he was still smiling. It's -queer to think of--he lay dead, lay dead there, an utter failure, with -the smile of success on his face. - -"That was the end of my uncle. You can imagine me and my mother saw -that he had a decent funeral. Then, of course, came the hunt for the -will. We began decent and respectful at first, and before the day was -out we were ripping chairs, and smashing bureau panels, and sounding -walls. Every hour we expected those others to come in. We asked the -housekeeper, and found she'd actually witnessed a will--on an ordinary -half-sheet of notepaper it was written, and very short, she said--not -a month ago. The other witness was the gardener, and he bore her out -word for word. But I'm hanged if there was that or any other will to -be found. The way my mother talked must have made him turn in his -grave. At last a lawyer at Reigate sprang one on us that had been made -years ago during some temporary quarrel with my mother. I'm blest if -that wasn't the only will to be discovered anywhere, and it left every -penny he possessed to that 'Take 'im away' youngster of his second -cousin's--a chap who'd never had to stand his talking not for one -afternoon of his life." - -The man with the glass eye stopped. - -"I thought you said"--I began. - -"Half a minute," said the man with the glass eye. "_I_ had to wait -for the end of the story till this very morning, and I was a blessed -sight more interested than you are. You just wait a bit too. They -executed the will, and the other chap inherited, and directly he was -one-and-twenty he began to blew it. How he did blew it, to be sure! He -bet, he drank, he got in the papers for this and that. I tell you, it -makes me wriggle to think of the times he had. He blewed every ha'penny -of it before he was thirty, and the last I heard of him was--Holloway! -Three years ago. - -"Well, I naturally fell on hard times, because, as you see, the only -trade I knew was legacy-cadging. All my plans were waiting over to -begin, so to speak, when the old chap died. I've had my ups and downs -since then. Just now it's a period of depression. I tell you frankly, -I'm on the look-out for help. I was hunting round my room to find -something to raise a bit on for immediate necessities, and the sight -of all those presentation volumes--no one will buy them, not to wrap -butter in, even--well, they annoyed me. I'd promised him not to part -with them, and I never kept a promise easier. I let out at them with my -boot, and sent them shooting across the room. One lifted at the kick, -and spun through the air. And out of it flapped--You guess? - -"It was the will. He'd given it me himself in that very last volume of -all." - -He folded his arms on the table, and looked sadly with the active eye -at his empty tankard. He shook his head slowly, and said softly, "I'd -never _opened_ the book, much more cut a page!" Then he looked up, with -a bitter laugh, for my sympathy. "Fancy hiding it there! Eigh? Of all -places." - -He began to fish absently for a dead fly with his finger. "It just -shows you the vanity of authors," he said, looking up at me. "It wasn't -no trick of his. He'd meant perfectly fair. He'd really thought I was -really going home to read that blessed book of his through. But it -shows you, don't it?"--his eye went down to the tankard again,--"It -shows you, too, how we poor human beings fail to understand one -another." - -But there was no misunderstanding the eloquent thirst of his eye. -He accepted with ill-feigned surprise. He said, in the usual subtle -formula, that he didn't mind if he did. - - - - -THE SAD STORY OF A DRAMATIC CRITIC - - -I was--you shall hear immediately why I am not now--Egbert Craddock -Cummins. The name remains. I am still (Heaven help me!) Dramatic Critic -to the _Fiery Cross_. What I shall be in a little while I do not know. -I write in great trouble and confusion of mind. I will do what I can -to make myself clear in the face of terrible difficulties. You must -bear with me a little. When a man is rapidly losing his own identity, -he naturally finds a difficulty in expressing himself. I will make it -perfectly plain in a minute, when once I get my grip upon the story. -Let me see--where _am_ I? I wish I knew. Ah, I have it! Dead self! -Egbert Craddock Cummins! - -In the past I should have disliked writing anything quite so full of -"I" as this story must be. It is full of "I's" before and behind, like -the beast in Revelation--the one with a head like a calf, I am afraid. -But my tastes have changed since I became a Dramatic Critic and studied -the masters--G.R.S., G.B.S., G.A.S., and the others. Everything has -changed since then. At least the story is about myself--so that there -is some excuse for me. And it is really not egotism, because, as I -say, since those days my identity has undergone an entire alteration. - -That past!... I was--in those days--rather a nice fellow, rather -shy--taste for grey in my clothes, weedy little moustache, face -"interesting," slight stutter which I had caught in early life from -a schoolfellow. Engaged to a very nice girl, named Delia. Fairly -new, she was--cigarettes--liked me because I was human and original. -Considered I was like Lamb--on the strength of the stutter, I believe. -Father, an eminent authority on postage stamps. She read a great -deal in the British Museum. (A perfect pairing ground for literary -people, that British Museum--you should read George Egerton and Justin -Huntly M'Carthy and Gissing and the rest of them.) We loved in our -intellectual way, and shared the brightest hopes. (All gone now.) And -her father liked me because I seemed honestly eager to hear about -stamps. She had no mother. Indeed, I had the happiest prospects a -young man could have. I never went to theatres in those days. My Aunt -Charlotte before she died had told me not to. - -Then Barnaby, the editor of the _Fiery Cross_, made me--in spite -of my spasmodic efforts to escape--Dramatic Critic. He is a fine, -healthy man, Barnaby, with an enormous head of frizzy black hair and -a convincing manner, and he caught me on the staircase going to see -Wembly. He had been dining, and was more than usually buoyant. "Hullo, -Cummins!" he said. "The very man I want!" He caught me by the shoulder -or the collar or something, ran me up the little passage, and flung me -over the waste-paper basket into the arm-chair in his office. "Pray be -seated," he said, as he did so. Then he ran across the room and came -back with some pink and yellow tickets and pushed them into my hand. -"Opera Comique," he said, "Thursday; Friday, the Surrey; Saturday, the -Frivolity. That's all, I think." - -"But"--I began. - -"Glad you're free," he said, snatching some proofs off the desk and -beginning to read. - -"I don't quite understand," I said. - -"_Eigh?_" he said, at the top of his voice, as though he thought I had -gone, and was startled at my remark. - -"Do you want me to criticise these plays?" - -"Do something with 'em.... Did you think it was a treat?" - -"But I can't." - -"Did you call me a fool?" - -"Well, I've never been to a theatre in my life." - -"Virgin soil." - -"But I don't know anything about it, you know." - -"That's just it. New view. No habits. No _clichés_ in stock. Ours is a -live paper, not a bag of tricks. None of your clockwork professional -journalism in this office. And I can rely on your integrity"-- - -"But I've conscientious scruples"-- - -He caught me up suddenly and put me outside his door. "Go and talk to -Wembly about that," he said. "He'll explain." - -As I stood perplexed, he opened the door again, said, "I forgot this," -thrust a fourth ticket into my hand (it was for that night--in twenty -minutes' time), and slammed the door upon me. His expression was quite -calm, but I caught his eye. - -I hate arguments. I decided that I would take his hint and become (to -my own destruction) a Dramatic Critic. I walked slowly down the passage -to Wembly. That Barnaby has a remarkably persuasive way. He has made -few suggestions during our very pleasant intercourse of four years -that he has not ultimately won me round to adopting. It may be, of -course, that I am of a yielding disposition; certainly I am too apt to -take my colour from my circumstances. It is, indeed, to my unfortunate -susceptibility to vivid impressions that all my misfortunes are due. -I have already alluded to the slight stammer I had acquired from a -schoolfellow in my youth. However, this is a digression.... I went home -in a cab to dress. - -I will not trouble the reader with my thoughts about the first-night -audience, strange assembly as it is,--those I reserve for my -Memoirs,--nor the humiliating story of how I got lost during the -_entr'acte_ in a lot of red plush passages, and saw the third act from -the gallery. The only point upon which I wish to lay stress was the -remarkable effect of the acting upon me. You must remember I had lived -a quiet and retired life, and had never been to the theatre before, -and that I am extremely sensitive to vivid impressions. At the risk of -repetition I must insist upon these points. - -The first effect was a profound amazement, not untinctured by alarm. -The phenomenal unnaturalness of acting is a thing discounted in the -minds of most people by early visits to the theatre. They get used to -the fantastic gestures, the flamboyant emotions, the weird mouthings, -melodious snortings, agonising yelps, lip-gnawings, glaring horrors, -and other emotional symbolism of the stage. It becomes at last a mere -deaf-and-dumb language to them, which they read intelligently _pari -passu_ with the hearing of the dialogue. But all this was new to me. -The thing was called a modern comedy, the people were supposed to be -English and were dressed like fashionable Americans of the current -epoch, and I fell into the natural error of supposing that the actors -were trying to represent human beings. I looked round on my first-night -audience with a kind of wonder, discovered--as all new Dramatic Critics -do--that it rested with me to reform the Drama, and, after a supper -choked with emotion, went off to the office to write a column, piebald -with "new paragraphs" (as all my stuff is--it fills out so) and purple -with indignation. Barnaby was delighted. - -But I could not sleep that night. I dreamt of actors--actors glaring, -actors smiting their chests, actors flinging out a handful of extended -fingers, actors smiling bitterly, laughing despairingly, falling -hopelessly, dying idiotically. I got up at eleven with a slight -headache, read my notice in the _Fiery Cross_, breakfasted, and went -back to my room to shave. (It's my habit to do so.) Then an odd thing -happened. I could not find my razor. Suddenly it occurred to me that I -had not unpacked it the day before. - -"Ah!" said I, in front of the looking-glass. Then "Hullo!" - -Quite involuntarily, when I had thought of my portmanteau, I had flung -up the left arm (fingers fully extended) and clutched at my diaphragm -with my right hand. I am an acutely self-conscious man at all times. -The gesture struck me as absolutely novel for me. I repeated it, for -my own satisfaction. "Odd!" Then (rather puzzled) I turned to my -portmanteau. - -After shaving, my mind reverted to the acting I had seen, and I -entertained myself before the cheval glass with some imitations of -Jafferay's more exaggerated gestures. "Really, one might think it a -disease," I said--"Stage-Walkitis!" (There's many a truth spoken in -jest.) Then, if I remember rightly, I went off to see Wembly, and -afterwards lunched at the British Museum with Delia. We actually spoke -about our prospects, in the light of my new appointment. - -But that appointment was the beginning of my downfall. From that day -I necessarily became a persistent theatre-goer, and almost insensibly -I began to change. The next thing I noticed after the gesture about -the razor, was to catch myself bowing ineffably when I met Delia, and -stooping in an old-fashioned, courtly way over her hand. Directly I -caught myself, I straightened myself up and became very uncomfortable. -I remember she looked at me curiously. Then, in the office, I found -myself doing "nervous business," fingers on teeth, when Barnaby asked -me a question I could not very well answer. Then, in some trifling -difference with Delia, I clasped my hand to my brow. And I pranced -through my social transactions at times singularly like an actor! I -tried not to--no one could be more keenly alive to the arrant absurdity -of the histrionic bearing. And I did! - -It began to dawn on me what it all meant. The acting, I saw, was too -much for my delicately-strung nervous system. I have always, I know, -been too amenable to the suggestions of my circumstances. Night after -night of concentrated attention to the conventional attitudes and -intonation of the English stage was gradually affecting my speech and -carriage. I was giving way to the infection of sympathetic imitation. -Night after night my plastic nervous system took the print of some new -amazing gesture, some new emotional exaggeration--and retained it. A -kind of theatrical veneer threatened to plate over and obliterate my -private individuality altogether. I saw myself in a kind of vision. -Sitting by myself one night, my new self seemed to me to glide, -posing and gesticulating, across the room. He clutched his throat, he -opened his fingers, he opened his legs in walking like a high-class -marionette. He went from attitude to attitude. He might have been -clockwork. Directly after this I made an ineffectual attempt to -resign my theatrical work. But Barnaby persisted in talking about the -Polywhiddle Divorce all the time I was with him, and I could get no -opportunity of saying what I wished. - -And then Delia's manner began to change towards me. The ease of our -intercourse vanished. I felt she was learning to dislike me. I -grinned, and capered, and scowled, and posed at her in a thousand ways, -and knew--with what a voiceless agony!--that I did it all the time. I -tried to resign again, and Barnaby talked about "X" and "Z" and "Y" in -the _New Review_, and gave me a strong cigar to smoke, and so routed -me. And then I walked up the Assyrian Gallery in the manner of Irving -to meet Delia, and so precipitated the crisis. - -"Ah!--_Dear!_" I said, with more sprightliness and emotion in my voice -than had ever been in all my life before I became (to my own undoing) a -Dramatic Critic. - -She held out her hand rather coldly, scrutinising my face as she did -so. I prepared, with a new-won grace, to walk by her side. - -"Egbert," she said, standing still, and thought. Then she looked at me. - -I said nothing. I felt what was coming. I tried to be the old Egbert -Craddock Cummins of shambling gait and stammering sincerity, whom she -loved, but I felt even as I did so that I was a new thing, a thing -of surging emotions and mysterious fixity--like no human being that -ever lived, except upon the stage. "Egbert," she said, "you are not -yourself." - -"Ah!" Involuntarily I clutched my diaphragm and averted my head (as is -the way with them). - -"There!" she said. - -"_What do you mean?_" I said, whispering in vocal italics--you know -how they do it--turning on her, perplexity on face, right hand down, -left on brow. I knew quite well what she meant. I knew quite well the -dramatic unreality of my behaviour. But I struggled against it in vain. -"What do you mean?" I said, and, in a kind of hoarse whisper, "I don't -understand!" - -She really looked as though she disliked me. "What do you keep on -posing for?" she said. "I don't like it. You didn't use to." - -"Didn't use to!" I said slowly, repeating this twice. I glared up and -down the gallery, with short, sharp glances. "We are alone," I said -swiftly. "_Listen!_" I poked my forefinger towards her, and glared at -her. "I am under a curse." - -I saw her hand tighten upon her sunshade. "You are under some bad -influence or other," said Delia. "You should give it up. I never knew -anyone change as you have done." - -"Delia!" I said, lapsing into the pathetic. "Pity me. Augh! Delia! -_Pit_--y me!" - -She eyed me critically. "_Why_ you keep playing the fool like this I -don't know," she said. "Anyhow, I really cannot go about with a man who -behaves as you do. You made us both ridiculous on Wednesday. Frankly, -I dislike you, as you are now. I met you here to tell you so--as it's -about the only place where we can be sure of being alone together"-- - -"Delia!" said I, with intensity, knuckles of clenched hands white. "You -don't mean"-- - -"I do," said Delia. "A woman's lot is sad enough at the best of times. -But with you"-- - -I clapped my hand on my brow. - -"So, good-bye," said Delia, without emotion. - -"Oh, Delia!" I said. "Not _this_?" - -"Good-bye, Mr. Cummins," she said. - -By a violent effort I controlled myself and touched her hand. I tried -to say some word of explanation to her. She looked into my working face -and winced. "I _must_ do it," she said hopelessly. Then she turned from -me and began walking rapidly down the gallery. - -Heavens! How the human agony cried within me! I loved Delia. But -nothing found expression--I was already too deeply crusted with my -acquired self. - -"Good-baye!" I said at last, watching her retreating figure. How I -hated myself for doing it! After she had vanished, I repeated in a -dreamy way, "Good-baye!" looking hopelessly round me. Then, with a kind -of heart-broken cry, I shook my clenched fists in the air, staggered to -the pedestal of a winged figure, buried my face in my arms, and made my -shoulders heave. Something within me said "Ass!" as I did so. (I had -the greatest difficulty in persuading the Museum policeman, who was -attracted by my cry of agony, that I was not intoxicated, but merely -suffering from a transient indisposition.) - -But even this great sorrow has not availed to save me from my fate. -I see it, everyone sees it; I grow more "theatrical" every day. -And no one could be more painfully aware of the pungent silliness -of theatrical ways. The quiet, nervous, but pleasing E. C. Cummins -vanishes. I cannot save him. I am driven like a dead leaf before the -winds of March. My tailor even enters into the spirit of my disorder. -He has a peculiar sense of what is fitting. I tried to get a dull grey -suit from him this spring, and he foisted a brilliant blue upon me, -and I see he has put braid down the sides of my new dress trousers. My -hairdresser insists upon giving me a "wave." - -I am beginning to associate with actors. I detest them, but it is only -in their company that I can feel I am not glaringly conspicuous. Their -talk infects me. I notice a growing tendency to dramatic brevity, to -dashes and pauses in my style, to a punctuation of bows and attitudes. -Barnaby has remarked it too. I offended Wembly by calling him "Dear -Boy" yesterday. I dread the end, but I cannot escape from it. - -The fact is, I am being obliterated. Living a grey, retired life all -my youth, I came to the theatre a delicate sketch of a man, a thing -of tints and faint lines. Their gorgeous colouring has effaced me -altogether. People forget how much mode of expression, method of -movement, are a matter of contagion. I have heard of stage-struck -people before, and thought it a figure of speech. I spoke of it -jestingly, as a disease. It is no jest. It _is_ a disease. And I have -got it bad! Deep down within me I protest against the wrong done to my -personality--unavailingly. For three hours or more a week I have to go -and concentrate my attention on some fresh play, and the suggestions -of the drama strengthen their awful hold upon me. My manners grow so -flamboyant, my passions so professional, that I doubt, as I said at the -outset, whether it is really myself that behaves in such a manner. I -feel merely the core to this dramatic casing, that grows thicker and -presses upon me--me and mine. I feel like King John's abbot in his cope -of lead. - -I doubt, indeed, whether I should not abandon the struggle -altogether--leave this sad world of ordinary life for which I am -so ill-fitted, abandon the name of Cummins for some professional -pseudonym, complete my self-effacement, and--a thing of tricks and -tatters, of posing and pretence--go upon the stage. It seems my only -resort--"to hold the mirror up to Nature." For in the ordinary life, -I will confess, no one now seems to regard me as both sane and sober. -Only upon the stage, I feel convinced, will people take me seriously. -That will be the end of it. I _know_ that will be the end of it. And -yet ... I will frankly confess ... all that marks off your actor -from your common man ... I _detest_. I am still largely of my Aunt -Charlotte's opinion, that playacting is unworthy of a pure-minded man's -attention, much more participation. Even now I would resign my dramatic -criticism and try a rest. Only I can't get hold of Barnaby. Letters -of resignation he never notices. He says it is against the etiquette -of journalism to write to your Editor. And when I go to see him, he -gives me another big cigar and some strong whisky and soda, and then -something always turns up to prevent my explanation. - - - - -A SLIP UNDER THE MICROSCOPE - - -Outside the laboratory windows was a watery-grey fog, and within -a close warmth and the yellow light of the green-shaded gas lamps -that stood two to each table down its narrow length. On each table -stood a couple of glass jars containing the mangled vestiges of the -crayfish, mussels, frogs, and guineapigs, upon which the students had -been working, and down the side of the room, facing the windows, were -shelves bearing bleached dissections in spirits, surmounted by a row -of beautifully executed anatomical drawings in whitewood frames and -overhanging a row of cubical lockers. All the doors of the laboratory -were panelled with blackboard, and on these were the half-erased -diagrams of the previous day's work. The laboratory was empty, save for -the demonstrator, who sat near the preparation-room door, and silent, -save for a low, continuous murmur, and the clicking of the rocker -microtome at which he was working. But scattered about the room were -traces of numerous students: hand-bags, polished boxes of instruments, -in one place a large drawing covered by newspaper, and in another a -prettily bound copy of _News from Nowhere_, a book oddly at variance -with its surroundings. These things had been put down hastily as the -students had arrived and hurried at once to secure their seats in the -adjacent lecture theatre. Deadened by the closed door, the measured -accents of the professor sounded as a featureless muttering. - -Presently, faint through the closed windows came the sound of the -Oratory clock striking the hour of eleven. The clicking of the -microtome ceased, and the demonstrator looked at his watch, rose, -thrust his hands into his pockets, and walked slowly down the -laboratory towards the lecture theatre door. He stood listening for a -moment, and then his eye fell on the little volume by William Morris. -He picked it up, glanced at the title, smiled, opened it, looked at the -name on the fly-leaf, ran the leaves through with his hand, and put -it down. Almost immediately the even murmur of the lecturer ceased, -there was a sudden burst of pencils rattling on the desks in the -lecture theatre, a stirring, a scraping of feet, and a number of voices -speaking together. Then a firm footfall approached the door, which -began to open, and stood ajar, as some indistinctly heard question -arrested the new-comer. - -The demonstrator turned, walked slowly back past the microtome, and -left the laboratory by the preparation-room door. As he did so, -first one, and then several students carrying notebooks entered the -laboratory from the lecture theatre, and distributed themselves among -the little tables, or stood in a group about the doorway. They were an -exceptionally heterogeneous assembly, for while Oxford and Cambridge -still recoil from the blushing prospect of mixed classes, the College -of Science anticipated America in the matter years ago--mixed socially, -too, for the prestige of the College is high, and its scholarships, -free of any age limit, dredge deeper even than do those of the Scotch -universities. The class numbered one-and-twenty, but some remained in -the theatre questioning the professor, copying the blackboard diagrams -before they were washed off, or examining the special specimens he had -produced to illustrate the day's teaching. Of the nine who had come -into the laboratory three were girls, one of whom, a little fair woman, -wearing spectacles and dressed in greyish-green, was peering out of -the window at the fog, while the other two, both wholesome-looking, -plain-faced schoolgirls, unrolled and put on the brown holland aprons -they wore while dissecting. Of the men, two went down the laboratory -to their places, one a pallid, dark-bearded man, who had once been -a tailor; the other a pleasant-featured, ruddy young man of twenty, -dressed in a well-fitting brown suit; young Wedderburn, the son of -Wedderburn the eye specialist. The others formed a little knot near -the theatre door. One of these, a dwarfed, spectacled figure, with -a hunch back, sat on a bent wood stool; two others, one a short, -dark youngster, and the other a flaxen-haired, reddish-complexioned -young man, stood leaning side by side against the slate sink, while -the fourth stood facing them, and maintained the larger share of the -conversation. - -This last person was named Hill. He was a sturdily built young fellow, -of the same age as Wedderburn; he had a white face, dark grey eyes, -hair of an indeterminate colour, and prominent, irregular features. -He talked rather louder than was needful, and thrust his hands deeply -into his pockets. His collar was frayed and blue with the starch of a -careless laundress, his clothes were evidently readymade, and there -was a patch on the side of his boot near the toe. And as he talked -or listened to the others, he glanced now and again towards the -lecture theatre door. They were discussing the depressing peroration -of the lecture they had just heard, the last lecture it was in the -introductory course in zoology. "From ovum to ovum is the goal of the -higher vertebrata," the lecturer had said in his melancholy tones, -and so had neatly rounded off the sketch of comparative anatomy he -had been developing. The spectacled hunchback had repeated it, with -noisy appreciation, had tossed it towards the fair-haired student with -an evident provocation, and had started one of those vague, rambling -discussions on generalities, so unaccountably dear to the student mind -all the world over. - -"That is our goal, perhaps--I admit it--as far as science goes," said -the fair-haired student, rising to the challenge. "But there are things -above science." - -"Science," said Hill confidently, "is systematic knowledge. Ideas that -don't come into the system--must anyhow--be loose ideas." He was not -quite sure whether that was a clever saying or a fatuity until his -hearers took it seriously. - -"The thing I cannot understand," said the hunchback, at large, "is -whether Hill is a materialist or not." - -"There is one thing above matter," said Hill promptly, feeling he had -a better thing this time, aware, too, of someone in the doorway behind -him, and raising his voice a trifle for her benefit, "and that is, the -delusion that there is something above matter." - -"So we have your gospel at last," said the fair student. "It's all -a delusion, is it? All our aspirations to lead something more than -dogs' lives, all our work for anything beyond ourselves. But see how -inconsistent you are. Your socialism, for instance. Why do you trouble -about the interests of the race? Why do you concern yourself about -the beggar in the gutter? Why are you bothering yourself to lend that -book"--he indicated William Morris by a movement of the head--"to -everyone in the lab.?" - -"Girl," said the hunchback indistinctly, and glanced guiltily over his -shoulder. - -The girl in brown, with the brown eyes, had come into the laboratory, -and stood on the other side of the table behind him, with her rolled-up -apron in one hand, looking over her shoulder, listening to the -discussion. She did not notice the hunchback, because she was glancing -from Hill to his interlocutor. Hill's consciousness of her presence -betrayed itself to her only in his studious ignorance of the fact; but -she understood that, and it pleased her. "I see no reason," said he, -"why a man should live like a brute because he knows of nothing beyond -matter, and does not expect to exist a hundred years hence." - -"Why shouldn't he?" said the fair-haired student. - -"Why _should_ he?" said Hill. - -"What inducement has he?" - -"That's the way with all you religious people. It's all a business of -inducements. Cannot a man seek after righteousness for righteousness' -sake?" - -There was a pause. The fair man answered, with a kind of vocal padding, -"But--you see--inducement--when I said inducement," to gain time. And -then the hunchback came to his rescue and inserted a question. He was -a terrible person in the debating society with his questions, and they -invariably took one form--a demand for a definition. "What's your -definition of righteousness?" said the hunchback at this stage. - -Hill experienced a sudden loss of complacency at this question, -but even as it was asked, relief came in the person of Brooks, the -laboratory attendant, who entered by the preparation-room door, -carrying a number of freshly killed guineapigs by their hind legs. -"This is the last batch of material this session," said the youngster, -who had not previously spoken. Brooks advanced up the laboratory, -smacking down a couple of guineapigs at each table. The rest of the -class, scenting the prey from afar, came crowding in by the lecture -theatre door, and the discussion perished abruptly as the students who -were not already in their places hurried to them to secure the choice -of a specimen. There was a noise of keys rattling on split rings as -lockers were opened and dissecting instruments taken out. Hill was -already standing by his table, and his box of scalpels was sticking out -of his pocket. The girl in brown came a step towards him, and, leaning -over his table, said softly, "Did you see that I returned your book, -Mr. Hill?" - -During the whole scene she and the book had been vividly present in his -consciousness; but he made a clumsy pretence of looking at the book and -seeing it for the first time. "Oh yes," he said, taking it up. "I see. -Did you like it?" - -"I want to ask you some questions about it--some time." - -"Certainly," said Hill. "I shall be glad." He stopped awkwardly. "You -liked it?" he said. - -"It's a wonderful book. Only some things I don't understand." - -Then suddenly the laboratory was hushed by a curious braying noise. It -was the demonstrator. He was at the blackboard ready to begin the day's -instruction, and it was his custom to demand silence by a sound midway -between the "Er" of common intercourse and the blast of a trumpet. The -girl in brown slipped back to her place: it was immediately in front -of Hill's, and Hill, forgetting her forthwith, took a notebook out of -the drawer of his table, turned over its leaves hastily, drew a stumpy -pencil from his pocket, and prepared to make a copious note of the -coming demonstration. For demonstrations and lectures are the sacred -text of the College students. Books, saving only the Professor's own, -you may--it is even expedient to--ignore. - - * * * * * - -Hill was the son of a Landport cobbler, and had been hooked by a chance -blue paper the authorities had thrown out to the Landport Technical -College. He kept himself in London on his allowance of a guinea a -week, and found that, with proper care, this also covered his clothing -allowance, an occasional waterproof collar, that is; and ink and -needles and cotton, and such-like necessaries for a man about town. -This was his first year and his first session, but the brown old man -in Landport had already got himself detested in many public-houses by -boasting of his son, "the Professor." Hill was a vigorous youngster, -with a serene contempt for the clergy of all denominations, and a -fine ambition to reconstruct the world. He regarded his scholarship -as a brilliant opportunity. He had begun to read at seven, and had -read steadily whatever came in his way, good or bad, since then. His -worldly experience had been limited to the island of Portsea, and -acquired chiefly in the wholesale boot factory in which he had worked -by day, after passing the seventh standard of the Board school. He had -a considerable gift of speech, as the College Debating Society, which -met amidst the crushing machines and mine models in the metallurgical -theatre downstairs, already recognised--recognised by a violent -battering of desks whenever he rose. And he was just at that fine -emotional age when life opens at the end of a narrow pass like a broad -valley at one's feet, full of the promise of wonderful discoveries and -tremendous achievements. And his own limitations, save that he knew -that he knew neither Latin nor French, were all unknown to him. - -At first his interest had been divided pretty equally between his -biological work at the College and social and theological theorising, -an employment which he took in deadly earnest. Of a night, when the -big museum library was not open, he would sit on the bed of his room -in Chelsea with his coat and a muffler on, and write out the lecture -notes and revise his dissection memoranda, until Thorpe called him -out by a whistle,--the landlady objected to open the door to attic -visitors,--and then the two would go prowling about the shadowy, shiny, -gas-lit streets, talking, very much in the fashion of the sample -just given, of the God Idea, and Righteousness, and Carlyle, and the -Reorganisation of Society. And, in the midst of it all, Hill, arguing -not only for Thorpe, but for the casual passer-by, would lose the -thread of his argument glancing at some pretty painted face that looked -meaningly at him as he passed. Science and Righteousness! But once or -twice lately there had been signs that a third interest was creeping -into his life, and he had found his attention wandering from the fate -of the mesoblastic somites or the probable meaning of the blastopore, -to the thought of the girl with the brown eyes who sat at the table -before him. - -She was a paying student; she descended inconceivable social altitudes -to speak to him. At the thought of the education she must have had, -and the accomplishments she must possess, the soul of Hill became -abject within him. She had spoken to him first over a difficulty about -the alisphenoid of a rabbit's skull, and he had found that, in biology -at least, he had no reason for self-abasement. And from that, after -the manner of young people starting from any starting-point, they got -to generalities, and while Hill attacked her upon the question of -socialism,--some instinct told him to spare her a direct assault upon -her religion,--she was gathering resolution to undertake what she told -herself was his ęsthetic education. She was a year or two older than -he, though the thought never occurred to him. The loan of _News from -Nowhere_ was the beginning of a series of cross loans. Upon some absurd -first principle of his, Hill had never "wasted time" upon poetry, -and it seemed an appalling deficiency to her. One day in the lunch -hour, when she chanced upon him alone in the little museum where the -skeletons were arranged, shamefully eating the bun that constituted -his midday meal, she retreated, and returned to lend him, with a -slightly furtive air, a volume of Browning. He stood sideways towards -her and took the book rather clumsily, because he was holding the bun -in the other hand. And in the retrospect his voice lacked the cheerful -clearness he could have wished. - -That occurred after the examination in comparative anatomy, on the -day before the College turned out its students, and was carefully -locked up by the officials, for the Christmas holidays. The excitement -of cramming for the first trial of strength had for a little while -dominated Hill, to the exclusion of his other interests. In the -forecasts of the result in which everyone indulged, he was surprised -to find that no one regarded him as a possible competitor for the -Harvey Commemoration Medal, of which this and the two subsequent -examinations disposed. It was about this time that Wedderburn, who -so far had lived inconspicuously on the uttermost margin of Hill's -perceptions, began to take on the appearance of an obstacle. By a -mutual agreement, the nocturnal prowlings with Thorpe ceased for the -three weeks before the examination, and his landlady pointed out that -she really could not supply so much lamp oil at the price. He walked to -and fro from the College with little slips of mnemonics in his hand, -lists of crayfish appendages, rabbits' skull-bones, and vertebrate -nerves, for example, and became a positive nuisance to foot passengers -in the opposite direction. - -But, by a natural reaction, Poetry and the girl with the brown eyes -ruled the Christmas holiday. The pending results of the examination -became such a secondary consideration that Hill marvelled at his -father's excitement. Even had he wished it, there was no comparative -anatomy to read in Landport, and he was too poor to buy books, but the -stock of poets in the library was extensive, and Hill's attack was -magnificently sustained. He saturated himself with the fluent numbers -of Longfellow and Tennyson, and fortified himself with Shakespeare; -found a kindred soul in Pope, and a master in Shelley, and heard and -fled the siren voices of Eliza Cook and Mrs. Hemans. But he read no -more Browning, because he hoped for the loan of other volumes from Miss -Haysman when he returned to London. - -He walked from his lodgings to the College with that volume of Browning -in his shiny black bag, and his mind teeming with the finest general -propositions about poetry. Indeed, he framed first this little speech -and then that with which to grace the return. The morning was an -exceptionally pleasant one for London; there was a clear, hard frost -and undeniable blue in the sky, a thin haze softened every outline, and -warm shafts of sunlight struck between the house blocks and turned the -sunny side of the street to amber and gold. In the hall of the College -he pulled off his glove and signed his name with fingers so stiff with -cold that the characteristic dash under the signature he cultivated -became a quivering line. He imagined Miss Haysman about him everywhere. -He turned at the staircase, and there, below, he saw a crowd struggling -at the foot of the notice-board. This, possibly, was the biology list. -He forgot Browning and Miss Haysman for the moment, and joined the -scrimmage. And at last, with his cheek flattened against the sleeve of -the man on the step above him, he read the list-- - - CLASS I - - H. J. Somers Wedderburn - William Hill - -and thereafter followed a second class that is outside our present -sympathies. It was characteristic that he did not trouble to look for -Thorpe on the physics list, but backed out of the struggle at once, and -in a curious emotional state between pride over common second-class -humanity and acute disappointment at Wedderburn's success, went on his -way upstairs. At the top, as he was hanging up his coat in the passage, -the zoological demonstrator, a young man from Oxford, who secretly -regarded him as a blatant "mugger" of the very worst type, offered his -heartiest congratulations. - -At the laboratory door Hill stopped for a second to get his breath, -and then entered. He looked straight up the laboratory and saw all -five girl students grouped in their places, and Wedderburn, the once -retiring Wedderburn, leaning rather gracefully against the window, -playing with the blind tassel and talking, apparently, to the five -of them. Now, Hill could talk bravely enough and even overbearingly -to one girl, and he could have made a speech to a roomful of girls, -but this business of standing at ease and appreciating, fencing, and -returning quick remarks round a group was, he knew, altogether beyond -him. Coming up the staircase his feelings for Wedderburn had been -generous, a certain admiration perhaps, a willingness to shake his hand -conspicuously and heartily as one who had fought but the first round. -But before Christmas Wedderburn had never gone up to that end of the -room to talk. In a flash Hill's mist of vague excitement condensed -abruptly to a vivid dislike of Wedderburn. Possibly his expression -changed. As he came up to his place, Wedderburn nodded carelessly to -him, and the others glanced round. Miss Haysman looked at him and away -again, the faintest touch of her eyes. "I can't agree with you, Mr. -Wedderburn," she said. - -"I must congratulate you on your first class, Mr. Hill," said the -spectacled girl in green, turning round and beaming at him. - -"It's nothing," said Hill, staring at Wedderburn and Miss Haysman -talking together, and eager to hear what they talked about. - -"We poor folks in the second class don't think so," said the girl in -spectacles. - -What was it Wedderburn was saying? Something about William Morris! -Hill did not answer the girl in spectacles, and the smile died out of -his face. He could not hear, and failed to see how he could "cut in." -Confound Wedderburn! He sat down, opened his bag, hesitated whether -to return the volume of Browning forthwith, in the sight of all, and -instead drew out his new notebooks for the short course in elementary -botany that was now beginning, and which would terminate in February. -As he did so, a fat, heavy man, with a white face and pale grey eyes, -Bindon, the professor of botany, who came up from Kew for January and -February, came in by the lecture theatre door, and passed, rubbing his -hands together and smiling, in silent affability down the laboratory. - - * * * * * - -In the subsequent six weeks Hill experienced some very rapid and -curiously complex emotional developments. For the most part he had -Wedderburn in focus--a fact that Miss Haysman never suspected. She told -Hill (for in the comparative privacy of the museum she talked a good -deal to him of socialism and Browning and general propositions) that -she had met Wedderburn at the house of some people she knew, and "he's -inherited his cleverness; for his father, you know, is the great eye -specialist." - -"_My_ father is a cobbler," said Hill, quite irrelevantly, and -perceived the want of dignity even as he said it. But the gleam of -jealousy did not offend her. She conceived herself the fundamental -source of it. He suffered bitterly from a sense of Wedderburn's -unfairness, and a realisation of his own handicap. Here was this -Wedderburn had picked up a prominent man for a father, and instead -of his losing so many marks on the score of that advantage, it was -counted to him for righteousness! And while Hill had to introduce -himself and talk to Miss Haysman clumsily over mangled guineapigs in -the laboratory, this Wedderburn, in some backstairs way, had access to -her social altitudes, and could converse in a polished argot that Hill -understood perhaps, but felt incapable of speaking. Not, of course, -that he wanted to. Then it seemed to Hill that for Wedderburn to come -there day after day with cuffs unfrayed, neatly tailored, precisely -barbered, quietly perfect, was in itself an ill-bred, sneering sort -of proceeding. Moreover, it was a stealthy thing for Wedderburn to -behave insignificantly for a space, to mock modesty, to lead Hill to -fancy that he himself was beyond dispute the man of the year, and -then suddenly to dart in front of him, and incontinently to swell up -in this fashion. In addition to these things, Wedderburn displayed an -increasing disposition to join in any conversational grouping that -included Miss Haysman, and would venture, and indeed seek occasion, to -pass opinions derogatory to socialism and atheism. He goaded Hill to -incivilities by neat, shallow, and exceedingly effective personalities -about the socialist leaders, until Hill hated Bernard Shaw's graceful -egotisms, William Morris's limited editions and luxurious wall-papers, -and Walter Crane's charmingly absurd ideal working men, about as much -as he hated Wedderburn. The dissertations in the laboratory, that had -been his glory in the previous term, became a danger, degenerated into -inglorious tussles with Wedderburn, and Hill kept to them only out of -an obscure perception that his honour was involved. In the debating -society Hill knew quite clearly that, to a thunderous accompaniment -of banged desks, he could have pulverised Wedderburn. Only Wedderburn -never attended the debating society to be pulverised, because--nauseous -affectation!--he "dined late." - -You must not imagine that these things presented themselves in quite -such a crude form to Hill's perception. Hill was a born generaliser. -Wedderburn to him was not so much an individual obstacle as a type, -the salient angle of a class. The economic theories that, after -infinite ferment, had shaped themselves in Hill's mind, became abruptly -concrete at the contact. The world became full of easy-mannered, -graceful, gracefully-dressed, conversationally dexterous, finally -shallow Wedderburns, Bishops Wedderburn, Wedderburn M.P.'s, Professors -Wedderburn, Wedderburn landlords, all with finger-bowl shibboleths and -epigrammatic cities of refuge from a sturdy debater. And everyone -ill-clothed or ill-dressed, from the cobbler to the cab-runner, was a -man and a brother, a fellow-sufferer, to Hill's imagination. So that -he became, as it were, a champion of the fallen and oppressed, albeit -to outward seeming only a self-assertive, ill-mannered young man, and -an unsuccessful champion at that. Again and again a skirmish over the -afternoon tea that the girl students had inaugurated, left Hill with -flushed cheeks and a tattered temper, and the debating society noticed -a new quality of sarcastic bitterness in his speeches. - -You will understand now how it was necessary, if only in the interests -of humanity, that Hill should demolish Wedderburn in the forthcoming -examination and outshine him in the eyes of Miss Haysman; and you -will perceive, too, how Miss Haysman fell into some common feminine -misconceptions. The Hill-Wedderburn quarrel, for in his unostentatious -way Wedderburn reciprocated Hill's ill-veiled rivalry, became a tribute -to her indefinable charm; she was the Queen of Beauty in a tournament -of scalpels and stumpy pencils. To her confidential friend's secret -annoyance, it even troubled her conscience, for she was a good girl, -and painfully aware, from Ruskin and contemporary fiction, how entirely -men's activities are determined by women's attitudes. And if Hill never -by any chance mentioned the topic of love to her, she only credited him -with the finer modesty for that omission. - -So the time came on for the second examination, and Hill's increasing -pallor confirmed the general rumour that he was working hard. In the -aėrated bread shop near South Kensington Station you would see him, -breaking his bun and sipping his milk, with his eyes intent upon a -paper of closely written notes. In his bedroom there were propositions -about buds and stems round his looking-glass, a diagram to catch his -eye, if soap should chance to spare it, above his washing basin. -He missed several meetings of the debating society, but he found -the chance encounters with Miss Haysman in the spacious ways of the -adjacent art museum, or in the little museum at the top of the College, -or in the College corridors, more frequent and very restful. In -particular, they used to meet in a little gallery full of wrought-iron -chests and gates, near the art library, and there Hill used to talk, -under the gentle stimulus of her flattering attention, of Browning and -his personal ambitions. A characteristic she found remarkable in him -was his freedom from avarice. He contemplated quite calmly the prospect -of living all his life on an income below a hundred pounds a year. But -he was determined to be famous, to make, recognisably in his own proper -person, the world a better place to live in. He took Bradlaugh and John -Burns for his leaders and models, poor, even impecunious, great men. -But Miss Haysman thought that such lives were deficient on the ęsthetic -side, by which, though she did not know it, she meant good wall-paper -and upholstery, pretty books, tasteful clothes, concerts, and meals -nicely cooked and respectfully served. - -At last came the day of the second examination, and the professor of -botany, a fussy, conscientious man, rearranged all the tables in a long -narrow laboratory to prevent copying, and put his demonstrator on a -chair on a table (where he felt, he said, like a Hindoo god), to see -all the cheating, and stuck a notice outside the door, "Door closed," -for no earthly reason that any human being could discover. And all the -morning from ten till one the quill of Wedderburn shrieked defiance -at Hill's, and the quills of the others chased their leaders in a -tireless pack, and so also it was in the afternoon. Wedderburn was a -little quieter than usual, and Hill's face was hot all day, and his -overcoat bulged with textbooks and notebooks against the last moment's -revision. And the next day, in the morning and in the afternoon, was -the practical examination, when sections had to be cut and slides -identified. In the morning Hill was depressed because he knew he had -cut a thick section, and in the afternoon came the mysterious slip. - -It was just the kind of thing that the botanical professor was always -doing. Like the income tax, it offered a premium to the cheat. It was -a preparation under the microscope, a little glass slip, held in its -place on the stage of the instrument by light steel clips, and the -inscription set forth that the slip was not to be moved. Each student -was to go in turn to it, sketch it, write in his book of answers what -he considered it to be, and return to his place. Now, to move such a -slip is a thing one can do by a chance movement of the finger, and in -a fraction of a second. The professor's reason for decreeing that the -slip should not be moved depended on the fact that the object he wanted -identified was characteristic of a certain tree stem. In the position -in which it was placed it was a difficult thing to recognise, but once -the slip was moved so as to bring other parts of the preparation into -view, its nature was obvious enough. - -Hill came to this, flushed from a contest with staining re-agents, sat -down on the little stool before the microscope, turned the mirror to -get the best light, and then, out of sheer habit, shifted the slip. -At once he remembered the prohibition, and, with an almost continuous -motion of his hands, moved it back, and sat paralysed with astonishment -at his action. - -Then, slowly, he turned his head. The professor was out of the room; -the demonstrator sat aloft on his impromptu rostrum, reading the -_Q. Jour. Mi. Sci._; the rest of the examinees were busy, and with -their backs to him. Should he own up to the accident now? He knew -quite clearly what the thing was. It was a lenticel, a characteristic -preparation from the elder-tree. His eyes roved over his intent -fellow-students, and Wedderburn suddenly glanced over his shoulder at -him with a queer expression in his eyes. The mental excitement that had -kept Hill at an abnormal pitch of vigour these two days gave way to a -curious nervous tension. His book of answers was beside him. He did not -write down what the thing was, but with one eye at the microscope he -began making a hasty sketch of it. His mind was full of this grotesque -puzzle in ethics that had suddenly been sprung upon him. Should he -identify it? or should he leave this question unanswered? In that -case Wedderburn would probably come out first in the second result. -How could he tell now whether he might not have identified the thing -without shifting it? It was possible that Wedderburn had failed to -recognise it, of course. Suppose Wedderburn too had shifted the slide? -He looked up at the clock. There were fifteen minutes in which to -make up his mind. He gathered up his book of answers and the coloured -pencils he used in illustrating his replies, and walked back to his -seat. - -He read through his manuscript, and then sat thinking and gnawing -his knuckle. It would look queer now if he owned up. He _must_ beat -Wedderburn. He forgot the examples of those starry gentlemen, John -Burns and Bradlaugh. Besides, he reflected, the glimpse of the rest -of the slip he had had was, after all, quite accidental, forced upon -him by chance, a kind of providential revelation rather than an unfair -advantage. It was not nearly so dishonest to avail himself of that as -it was of Broome, who believed in the efficacy of prayer, to pray daily -for a first-class. "Five minutes more," said the demonstrator, folding -up his paper and becoming observant. Hill watched the clock hands until -two minutes remained; then he opened the book of answers, and, with hot -ears and an affectation of ease, gave his drawing of the lenticel its -name. - -When the second pass list appeared, the previous positions of -Wedderburn and Hill were reversed, and the spectacled girl in green, -who knew the demonstrator in private life (where he was practically -human), said that in the result of the two examinations taken together -Hill had the advantage of a mark--167 to 166 out of a possible 200. -Everyone admired Hill in a way, though the suspicion of "mugging" -clung to him. But Hill was to find congratulations and Miss Haysman's -enhanced opinion of him, and even the decided decline in the crest -of Wedderburn, tainted by an unhappy memory. He felt a remarkable -access of energy at first, and the note of a democracy marching to -triumph returned to his debating society speeches; he worked at his -comparative anatomy with tremendous zeal and effect, and he went on -with his ęsthetic education. But through it all, a vivid little picture -was continually coming before his mind's eye--of a sneakish person -manipulating a slide. - -No human being had witnessed the act, and he was cocksure that no -higher power existed to see it; but for all that it worried him. -Memories are not dead things, but alive; they dwindle in disuse, -but they harden and develop in all sorts of queer ways if they are -being continually fretted. Curiously enough, though at the time he -perceived clearly that the shifting was accidental, as the days wore -on, his memory became confused about it, until at last he was not -sure--although he assured himself that he _was_ sure--whether the -movement had been absolutely involuntary. Then it is possible that -Hill's dietary was conducive to morbid conscientiousness; a breakfast -frequently eaten in a hurry, a midday bun, and, at such hours after -five as chanced to be convenient, such meat as his means determined, -usually in a chophouse in a back street off the Brompton Road. -Occasionally he treated himself to threepenny or ninepenny classics, -and they usually represented a suppression of potatoes or chops. It is -indisputable that outbreaks of self-abasement and emotional revival -have a distinct relation to periods of scarcity. But apart from this -influence on the feelings, there was in Hill a distinct aversion -to falsity that the blasphemous Landport cobbler had inculcated by -strap and tongue from his earliest years. Of one fact about professed -atheists I am convinced; they may be--they usually are--fools, void -of subtlety, revilers of holy institutions, brutal speakers, and -mischievous knaves, but they lie with difficulty. If it were not so, -if they had the faintest grasp of the idea of compromise, they would -simply be liberal churchmen. And, moreover, this memory poisoned his -regard for Miss Haysman. For she now so evidently preferred him to -Wedderburn that he felt sure he cared for her, and began reciprocating -her attentions by timid marks of personal regard; at one time he even -bought a bunch of violets, carried it about in his pocket, and produced -it, with a stumbling explanation, withered and dead, in the gallery of -old iron. It poisoned, too, the denunciation of capitalist dishonesty -that had been one of his life's pleasures. And, lastly, it poisoned his -triumph in Wedderburn. Previously he had been Wedderburn's superior -in his own eyes, and had raged simply at a want of recognition. Now -he began to fret at the darker suspicion of positive inferiority. He -fancied he found justifications for his position in Browning, but they -vanished on analysis. At last--moved, curiously enough, by exactly the -same motive forces that had resulted in his dishonesty--he went to -Professor Bindon, and made a clean breast of the whole affair. As Hill -was a paid student, Professor Bindon did not ask him to sit down, and -he stood before the professor's desk as he made his confession. - -"It's a curious story," said Professor Bindon, slowly realising how -the thing reflected on himself, and then letting his anger rise,--"A -most remarkable story. I can't understand your doing it, and I can't -understand this avowal. You're a type of student--Cambridge men would -never dream--I suppose I ought to have thought--Why _did_ you cheat?" - -"I didn't--cheat," said Hill. - -"But you have just been telling me you did." - -"I thought I explained"-- - -"Either you cheated or you did not cheat." - -"I said my motion was involuntary." - -"I am not a metaphysician, I am a servant of science--of fact. You -were told not to move the slip. You did move the slip. If that is not -cheating"-- - -"If I was a cheat," said Hill, with the note of hysterics in his voice, -"should I come here and tell you?" - -"Your repentance, of course, does you credit," said Professor Bindon, -"but it does not alter the original facts." - -"No, sir," said Hill, giving in in utter self-abasement. - -"Even now you cause an enormous amount of trouble. The examination list -will have to be revised." - -"I suppose so, sir." - -"Suppose so? Of course it must be revised. And I don't see how I can -conscientiously pass you." - -"Not pass me?" said Hill. "Fail me?" - -"It's the rule in all examinations. Or where should we be? What else -did you expect? You don't want to shirk the consequences of your own -acts?" - -"I thought, perhaps"--said Hill. And then, "Fail me? I thought, as I -told you, you would simply deduct the marks given for that slip." - -"Impossible!" said Bindon. "Besides, it would still leave you above -Wedderburn. Deduct only the marks--Preposterous! The Departmental -Regulations distinctly say"-- - -"But it's my own admission, sir." - -"The Regulations say nothing whatever of the manner in which the matter -comes to light. They simply provide"-- - -"It will ruin me. If I fail this examination, they won't renew my -scholarship." - -"You should have thought of that before." - -"But, sir, consider all my circumstances"-- - -"I cannot consider anything. Professors in this College are machines. -The Regulations will not even let us recommend our students for -appointments. I am a machine, and you have worked me. I have to do"-- - -"It's very hard, sir." - -"Possibly it is." - -"If I am to be failed this examination, I might as well go home at -once." - -"That is as you think proper." Bindon's voice softened a little; he -perceived he had been unjust, and, provided he did not contradict -himself, he was disposed to amelioration, "As a private person," he -said, "I think this confession of yours goes far to mitigate your -offence. But you have set the machinery in motion, and now it must take -its course. I--I am really sorry you gave way." - -A wave of emotion prevented Hill from answering. Suddenly, very -vividly, he saw the heavily-lined face of the old Landport cobbler, his -father. "Good God! What a fool I have been!" he said hotly and abruptly. - -"I hope," said Bindon, "that it will be a lesson to you." - -But, curiously enough, they were not thinking of quite the same -indiscretion. - -There was a pause. - -"I would like a day to think, sir, and then I will let you know--about -going home, I mean," said Hill, moving towards the door. - - * * * * * - -The next day Hill's place was vacant. The spectacled girl in green was, -as usual, first with the news. Wedderburn and Miss Haysman were talking -of a performance of _The Meistersingers_ when she came up to them. - -"Have you heard?" she said. - -"Heard what?" - -"There was cheating in the examination." - -"Cheating!" said Wedderburn, with his face suddenly hot. "How?" - -"That slide"-- - -"Moved? Never!" - -"It was. That slide that we weren't to move"-- - -"Nonsense!" said Wedderburn. "Why! How could they find out? Who do they -say--?" - -"It was Mr. Hill." - -"_Hill!_" - -"Mr. Hill!" - -"Not--surely not the immaculate Hill?" said Wedderburn, recovering. - -"I don't believe it," said Miss Haysman. "How do you know?" - -"I _didn't_," said the girl in spectacles. "But I know it now for a -fact. Mr. Hill went and confessed to Professor Bindon himself." - -"By Jove!" said Wedderburn. "Hill of all people. But I am always -inclined to distrust these philanthropists-on-principle"-- - -"Are you quite sure?" said Miss Haysman, with a catch in her breath. - -"Quite. It's dreadful, isn't it? But, you know, what can you expect? -His father is a cobbler." - -Then Miss Haysman astonished the girl in spectacles. - -"I don't care. I will not believe it," she said, flushing darkly under -her warm-tinted skin. "I will not believe it until he has told me so -himself--face to face. I would scarcely believe it then," and abruptly -she turned her back on the girl in spectacles, and walked to her own -place. - -"It's true, all the same," said the girl in spectacles, peering and -smiling at Wedderburn. - -But Wedderburn did not answer her. She was indeed one of those people -who seem destined to make unanswered remarks. - - -THE END - - - - - PRINTED BY - MORRISON AND GIBB LIMITED, EDINBURGH - - - - -Transcriber's note - - -Words in italics were surrounded with _underscores_ and small capitals -changed to all capitals. - -The original has been preserved, except for the following corrections, -on page - - 11 "contion" changed to "condition" (in an extremely dishevelled - condition.) - 99 , changed to . (parables rather. Do you mean) - 221 . added (but it hit _him_. Yes, ma'am) - 257 " removed (was his silly name for me.) - 259 beginning double quotes added and nested double quotes changed to - single quotes ("'Have you read it?' ... 'The bravest and the best,' - said I again). - -Additional: the book mentioned on page 216 "Smiles' Elp Yourself" -is an existing book "Self help; with illustrations of conduct and -perseverance" by Samuel Smiles, to be found on Project Gutenberg as -Ebook number 935. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Plattner Story and Others, by H. G. 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