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+Project Gutenberg's The Blind Spot, by Austin Hall and Homer Eon Flint
+
+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 Blind Spot
+
+Author: Austin Hall
+        Homer Eon Flint
+
+Commentator: Forrest J Ackerman
+
+
+Release Date: January, 2004  [EBook #4920]
+[This file was first posted on March 27, 2002]
+Last Updated: June 19, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLIND SPOT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BLIND SPOT
+
+By Austin Hall And Homer Eon Flint
+
+Introduction By Forrest J Ackerman
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+THE LURE AND LORE OF "THE BLIND SPOT"
+
+BY FORREST J ACKERMAN
+
+The Blind Spot opens with the words: "Perhaps it were just as well to
+start at the beginning. A mere matter of news." Suppose I use them in
+the same sense:
+
+A mere matter of news: The first instalment of this fabulous novel was
+featured in Argosy-All-Story-Weekly for May 14, 1921. Described as a
+"different" serial, it was introduced by a cover by Modest Stein. In
+the foreground was the profile of a girl of another dimension--ethereal,
+sensuous, the eternal feminine--the Nervina of the story. Filmy
+crystalline earrings swept back over her bare shoulders. Dominating the
+background was a huge flaming yellow ball, like our Sun as seen from the
+hypothetical Vulcan--splotched with murky, mysterious globii vitonae.
+There was an ancient quay, and emerging from the ultramarine waters
+about it a silhouetted metropolis of spires, domes, and minarets. It was
+1921, and that generation thus received its first glimpse of the alien
+landscape of The Blind Spot and the baroque beauty of an immortal woman
+of fantasy fiction.
+
+The authors? Homer Eon Flint was already a reigning favourite with
+post-World-War-I enthusiasts of imaginative literature, who had eagerly
+devoured his QUEEN OF LIFE and LORD OF DEATH, his KING OF CONSERVE
+ISLAND and THE PLANETEER. Austin Hall was well known and popular for his
+ALMOST IMMORTAL, REBEL SOUL, and INTO THE INFINITE.
+
+Then came this epoch-making collaboration. When Mary Gnaedinger launched
+Famous Fantastic Mysteries magazine she early presented THE BLIND SPOT,
+and printed it again in that magazine's companion Fantastic Novels.
+These reprints are now collectors' items, almost unobtainable,
+and otherwise the story has long been out of print. Rumour says an
+unauthorised German version of THE BLIND SPOT, has been published in
+book form. There is another book called THE BLIND SPOT, and also a
+magazine story, and a major movie studio was to produce a film of the
+same title. However, here is presented the only hard-cover version of
+the only BLIND SPOT of consequence to lovers of fantasy.
+
+Who wrote the story? When I first looked into the question, as a 15 year
+old boy, Homer Eon Flint (he originally spelled his name with a "d")
+was already dead of a fall into a canyon. In 1949 his widow told me: "I
+think Homer's father contributed that middle name"--the same name (with
+slightly different spelling) that the Irish poet George Russell took
+as his pen-name, which became known by its abbreviation AE. Mrs. Flindt
+said of Flint's father: "He was a very deep thinker, and enjoyed reading
+heavy material." Like father, like son. "Homer always talked over his
+ideas with me, and although I couldn't always follow his thoughts it
+seemed to help him to express them to another--it made some things come
+more clearly to him."
+
+Flint was a great admirer of H. G. Wells (this little
+grandmother-schoolteacher told me) and had probably read all his works
+up to the time when he (Flint) died in 1924. He had read Doyle and
+Haggard, but: "Wells was his favourite--the real thinker."
+
+Flint found a fellow-thinker in Austin Hall, whom he met in San
+Jose, California, while working at a shop where shoes were repaired
+electrically--"a rather new concept at the time." Hall, learning that
+Flint lived in the same city, sought him out, and they became fast
+friends. Each stimulated the other. As Hall told me twenty years ago of
+the origin of THE BLIND SPOT:
+
+"One day after we had lunched together, I held my finger up in front of
+one of my eyes and said: 'Homer, couldn't a story be written about that
+blind spot in the eye?' Not much was said about it at the time, but four
+days later, again at lunch, I outlined the whole story to him. I wrote
+the first eighteen chapters; Homer took up the tale as 'Hobart Fenton'
+and wrote the chapters about the house of miracles, the living death,
+the rousing of Aradna's mind, and so forth, up to 'The Man from Space,'
+where once again I took over."
+
+To THE BLIND SPOT Hall contributed a great knowledge of history and
+anthropology, while Flint's fortes were physics and medicine. Both had a
+great fund of philosophy at their command.
+
+When I met Hall (about four years older than Flint) he was in his
+fifties: a devil-may-care old codger (old to a fifteen-year-old, that
+is) full of good humour and indulgence for a youthful admirer who had
+journeyed far to meet him. He casually referred to his 600 published
+stories, and I carried away the impression of one who resembled both
+in output and in looks that other fiction-factory of the time, Edgar
+Wallace.
+
+Finally: Several years ago, before I knew anything about the present
+volume, I had an unusual experience. (At that time I had no reason to
+think THE BLIND SPOT would ever become available as a book, for the
+location of the heirs proved a Herculean task by itself; publishers had
+long wanted to present this amazing novel but could not do so until I
+located Mrs. Mae Hall and Mrs. Mabel Flindt.) While, unfortunately, I
+did not take careful notes at the time, the gist of the occurrence was
+this:
+
+I visited a friend whose hobby (besides reading fantasy) was the
+occult, who volunteered to entertain me with automatic writing and
+the ouija-board. Now, I share Lovecraft's scepticism towards the
+supernatural, regarding it as at best a means of amusement. When the
+question arose of what spirits we should try to lure to our planchette,
+the names of Lovecraft, Merritt, Hall, and Flint popped into my
+pixilated mind. So I set my fingers on the wooden heart and, since my
+host was also a Flint admirer, we asked about Flint's fatal accident.
+The ouija spelled out:
+
+N-O A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T--R-O-B-B-E-R-Y
+
+There followed something about being held up by a hitch-hiker. Then Hall
+(or at least some energy-source other than my own conscious mind) came
+through too, and when I asked if he had left any work behind he replied:
+
+Y-E-S--T-H-E L-A-S-T G-O-D-L-I-N-G
+
+Later I asked his son about this (without revealing the title) and Javen
+Hall told me of the story his father had been plotting when he died: THE
+HIDDEN EMPIRE, or THE CHILD OF THE SOUTHWIND. Whatever was pushing the
+planchette failed to inform me that when I found Austin Hall's son and
+widow, they would put into my hands an unknown, unpublished fantasy
+novel by Hall: THE HOUSE OF DAWN! Some day it may appear in print.
+
+Meanwhile you are getting understandably impatient to explore that
+unknown realm of the Blind Spot. Be on your way, and bon voyage!
+
+FORREST J ACKERMAN, Beverley Hills, Calif.
+
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE
+
+Perhaps it were just as well to start at the beginning. A mere matter of
+news.
+
+All the world at the time knew the story; but for the benefit of those
+who have forgotten I shall repeat it. I am merely giving it as I have
+taken it from the papers with no elaboration and no opinion--a mere
+statement of facts. It was a celebrated case at the time and stirred the
+world to wonder. Indeed, it still is celebrated, though to the layman it
+is forgotten.
+
+It has been labelled and indexed and filed away in the archives of the
+profession. To those who wish to look it up it will be spoken of as one
+of the great unsolved mysteries of the century. A crime that leads two
+ways, one into murder--sordid, cold and calculating; and the other into
+the nebulous screen that thwarts us from the occult.
+
+Perhaps it is the character of Dr. Holcomb that gives the latter. He was
+a great man and a splendid thinker. That he should have been led into a
+maze of cheap necromancy is, on the face, improbable. He had a wonderful
+mind. For years he had been battering down the scepticism that had
+bulwarked itself in the material.
+
+He was a psychologist, and up to the day the greatest, perhaps, that we
+have known. He had a way of going out before his fellows--it is the way
+of genius--and he had gone far, indeed, before them. If we would trust
+Dr. Holcomb we have much to live for; our religion is not all hearsay
+and there is a great deal in science still unthought of. It is an
+unfortunate case; but there is much to be learned in the circumstance
+that led the great doctor into the Blind Spot.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+RHAMDA AVEC
+
+
+On a certain foggy morning in September, 1905, a tall man wearing a
+black overcoat and bearing in one hand a small satchel of dark-reddish
+leather descended from a Geary Street tram at the foot of Market Street,
+San Francisco. It was a damp morning; a mist was brooding over the city
+blurring all distinctness.
+
+The man glanced about him; a tall man of trim lines and distinctness
+and a quick, decided step and bearing. In the shuffle of descending
+passengers he was outstanding, with a certain inborn grace that without
+the blood will never come from training. Men noticed and women out of
+instinct cast curious furtive glances and then turned away; which was
+natural, inasmuch as the man was plainly old. But for all that many
+ventured a second glance--and wondered.
+
+An old man with the poise of twenty, a strange face of remarkable
+features, swarthy, of an Eastern cast, perhaps Indian; whatever the
+certainty of the man's age there was still a lingering suggestion
+of splendid youth. If one persisted in a third or fourth look this
+suggestion took an almost certain tone, the man's age dwindled, years
+dropped from him, and the quizzical smile that played on the lips seemed
+a foreboding of boyish laughter.
+
+We say foreboding because in this case it is not mistaken diction.
+Foreboding suggests coming evil; the laughter of boys is wholehearted.
+It was merely that things were not exactly as they should be; it was not
+natural that age should be so youthful. The fates were playing, and in
+this case for once in the world's history their play was crosswise.
+
+It is a remarkable case from the beginning and we are starting from
+facts. The man crossed to the window of the Key Route ferry and
+purchased a ticket for Berkeley, after which, with the throng, he passed
+the turnstile and on to the boat that was waiting. He took the lower
+deck, not from choice, apparently, but more because the majority of his
+fellow passengers, being men, were bound in this direction. The same
+chance brought him to the cigar-stand. The men about him purchased
+cigars and cigarettes, and as is the habit of all smokers, strolled off
+with delighted relish. The man watched them. Had anyone noticed his eyes
+he would have noted a peculiar colour and a light of surprise. With the
+prim step that made him so distinctive he advanced to the news-stand.
+
+"Pardon me; but I would like to purchase one of those." Though he spoke
+perfect English it was in a strange manner, after the fashion of one
+who has found something that he has just learned how to use. At the
+same time he made a suggestion with his tapered fingers indicating the
+tobacco in the case. The clerk looked up.
+
+"A cigar, sir? Yes, sir. What will it be?"
+
+"A cigar?" Again the strange articulation. "Ah, yes, that is it. Now
+I remember. And it has a little sister, the cigarette. I think I shall
+take a cigarette, if--if--if you will show me how to use it."
+
+It was a strange request. The clerk was accustomed to all manner of
+men and their brands of humour; he was about to answer in kind when he
+looked up and into the man's eyes. He started.
+
+"You mean," he asked, "that you have never seen a cigar or cigarette;
+that you do not know how to use them? A man as old as you are."
+
+The stranger laughed. It was rather resentful, but for all that of a
+hearty taint of humour.
+
+"So old? Would you say that I am as old as that; if you will look
+again--"
+
+The young man did and what he beheld is something that he could not
+quite account for: the strange conviction of this remarkable man; of age
+melting into youth, of an uncertain freshness, the smile, not of sixty,
+but of twenty. The young man was not one to argue, whatever his wonder;
+he was first of all a lad of business; he could merely acquiesce.
+
+"The first time! This is the first time you have ever seen a cigar or
+cigarette?"
+
+The stranger nodded.
+
+"The first time. I have never beheld one of them before this morning. If
+you will allow me?" He indicated a package. "I think I shall take one of
+these."
+
+The clerk took up the package, opened the end, and shook out a single
+cigarette. The man lit it and, as the smoke poured out of his mouth,
+held the cigarette tentatively in his fingers.
+
+"Like it?" It was the clerk who asked.
+
+The other did not answer, his whole face was the expression of having
+just discovered one of the senses. He was a splendid man and, if the
+word may be employed of the sterner sex, one of beauty. His features
+were even; that is to be noted, his nose chiselled straight and to
+perfection, the eyes of a peculiar sombreness and lustre almost burning,
+of a black of such intensity as to verge into red and to be devoid of
+pupils, and yet, for all of that, of a glow and softness. After a moment
+he turned to the clerk.
+
+"You are young, my lad."
+
+"Twenty-one, sir."
+
+"You are fortunate. You live in a wonderful age. It is as wonderful as
+your tobacco. And you still have many great things before you."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The man walked on to the forward part of the boat; leaving the youth,
+who had been in a sort of daze, watching. But it was not for long. The
+whole thing had been strange and to the lad almost inexplicable. The man
+was not insane, he was certain; and he was just as sure that he had not
+been joking. From the start he had been taken by the man's refinement,
+intellect and education. He was positive that he had been sincere. Yet--
+
+The ferry detective happened at that moment to be passing. The clerk
+made an indication with his thumb.
+
+"That man yonder," he spoke, "the one in black. Watch him." Then he told
+his story. The detective laughed and walked forward.
+
+It was a most fortunate incident. It was a strange case. That mere act
+of the cigar clerk placed the police on the track and gave to the world
+the only clue that it holds of the Blind Spot.
+
+The detective had laughed at the lad's recital--almost any one had a
+patent for being queer--and if this gentleman had a whim for a certain
+brand of humour that was his business. Nevertheless, he would stroll
+forward.
+
+The man was not hard to distinguish; he was standing on the forward deck
+facing the wind and peering through the mist at the grey, heavy heave of
+the water. Alongside of them the dim shadow of a sister ferry screamed
+its way through the fogbank. That he was a landsman was evidenced by his
+way of standing; he was uncertain; at every heave of the boat he would
+shift sidewise. An unusually heavy roll caught him slightly off-balance
+and jostled him against the detective. The latter held up his hand and
+caught him by the arm.
+
+"A bad morning," spoke the officer. "B-r-r-r! Did you notice the Yerbe
+Buena yonder? She just grazed us. A bad morning."
+
+The stranger turned. As the detective caught the splendid face, the
+glowing eyes and the youthful smile, he started much as had done the
+cigar clerk. The same effect of the age melting into youth and--the
+officer being much more accustomed to reading men--a queer sense of
+latent and potent vision. The eyes were soft and receptive but for
+all that of the delicate strength and colour that comes from abnormal
+intellect. He noted the pupils, black, glowing, of great size, almost
+filling the iris and the whole melting into intensity that verged into
+red. Either the man had been long without sleep or he was one of unusual
+intelligence and vitality.
+
+"A nasty morning," repeated the officer.
+
+"Ah! Er, yes--did you say it was a nasty morning? Indeed, I do not know,
+sir. However, it is very interesting."
+
+"Stranger in San Francisco?"
+
+"Well, yes. At least, I have never seen it."
+
+"H-m!" The detective was a bit nonplussed by the man's evident evasion.
+"Well, if you are a stranger I suppose it is up to me to come to
+the defence of my city. This is one of Frisco's fogs. We have them
+occasionally. Sometimes they last for days. This one is a low one.
+It will lift presently. Then you will see the sun. Have you ever seen
+Frisco's sun?"
+
+"My dear sir"--this same slow articulation--"I have never seen your sun
+nor any other."
+
+"Hum!"
+
+It was an answer altogether unexpected. Again the officer found himself
+gazing into the strange, refined face and wonderful eyes. The man was
+not blind, of that he was certain. Neither was his voice harsh or testy.
+Rather was it soft and polite, of one merely stating a fact. Yet how
+could it be? He remembered the cigar clerk. Neither cigar nor sun! From
+what manner of land could the man come? A detective has a certain
+gift of intuition. Though on the face of it, outside of the man's
+personality, there could be nothing to it but a joke, he chose to act
+upon the impulse. He pulled back the door which had been closed behind
+them and re-entered the boat. When he returned the boat had arrived at
+the pier.
+
+"You are going to Oakland?"
+
+It was a chance question.
+
+"No, to Berkeley. I take a train here, I understand. Do all the trains
+go to Berkeley?"
+
+"By no means. I am going to Berkeley myself. We can ride together. My
+name is Jerome. Albert Jerome."
+
+"Thanks. Mine is Avec. Rhamda Avec. I am much obliged. Your company may
+be instructive."
+
+He did not say more, but watched with unrestrained interest their
+manoeuvre into the slip. A moment later they were marching with the
+others down the gangways to the trains waiting. Just as they were seated
+and the electric train was pulling out of the pier the sun breaking
+through the mist blazed with splendid light through the cloud rifts. The
+stranger was next to the window where he could look out over the water
+and beyond at the citied shoreline, whose sea of housetops extended and
+rose to the peaks of the first foothills. The sun was just coming over
+the mountains.
+
+The detective watched. There was sincerity in the man's actions. It was
+not acting. When the light first broke he turned his eyes full into the
+radiance. It was the act of a child and, so it struck the officer, of
+the same trust and simplicity--and likewise the same effect. He drew
+away quickly: for the moment blinded.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "It is so. This is the sun. Your sun is wonderful!"
+
+"Indeed it is," returned the other. "But rather common. We see it every
+day. It's the whole works, but we get used to it. For myself I cannot
+see anything strange in the 'sun's still shining.' You have been blind,
+Mr. Avec? Pardon the question. But I must naturally infer. You say you
+have never seen the sun. I suppose--"
+
+He stopped because of the other's smile; somehow it seemed a very
+superior one, as if predicting a wealth of wisdom.
+
+"My dear Mr. Jerome," he spoke, "I have never been blind in my life. I
+say it is wonderful! It is glorious and past describing. So is it all,
+your water, your boats, your ocean. But I see there is one thing even
+stranger still. It is yourselves. With all your greatness you are only
+part of your surroundings. Do you know what is your sun?"
+
+"Search me," returned the officer. "I'm no astronomer. I understand they
+don't know themselves. Fire, I suppose, and a hell of a hot one! But
+there is one thing that I can tell."
+
+"And this--"
+
+"Is the truth."
+
+If he meant it for insinuation it was ineffective. The other smiled
+kindly. In the fine effect of the delicate features, and most of all
+in the eyes was sincerity. In that face was the mark of genius--he felt
+it--and of a potent superior intelligence. Most of all did he note the
+beauty and the soft, silky superlustre of the eyes.
+
+We have the whole thing from Jerome, at least this part of it; and our
+interest being retrospect is multiplied far above that of the detective.
+The stranger had a certain call of character and of appearance, not
+to say magnetism. The officer felt himself almost believing and
+yet restraining himself into caution of unbelief. It was a remark
+preposterous on the face of it. What puzzled Jerome was the purpose;
+he could think of nothing that would necessitate such statements and
+acting. He was certain that the man was sane.
+
+In the light of what came after great stress has been laid by a certain
+class upon this incident. We may say that we lean neither way. We have
+merely given it in some detail because of that importance. We have
+yet no proof of the mystic and until it is proved, we must lean, like
+Jerome, upon the cold material. We have the mystery, but, even at that,
+we have not the certainty of murder.
+
+Understand, it was intuition that led Jerome into that memorable trip to
+Berkeley; he happened to be going off duty and was drawn to the man by
+a chance incident and the fact of his personality. At this minute,
+however, he thought no more of him than as an eccentric, as some
+refined, strange wonderful gentleman with a whim for his own brand of
+humour. Only that could explain it. The man had an evident curiosity
+for everything about him, the buildings, the street, the cars, and the
+people. Frequently he would mutter: "Wonderful, wonderful, and all the
+time we have never known it. Wonderful!"
+
+As they drew into Lorin the officer ventured a question.
+
+"You have friends in Berkeley? I see you are a stranger. If I may
+presume, perhaps I may be of assistance?"
+
+"Well, yes, if--if--do you know of a Dr. Holcomb?"
+
+"You mean the professor. He lives on Dwight Way. At this time of the
+day you would be more apt to find him at the university. Is he expecting
+you?"
+
+It was a blunt question and of course none of his business. Yet,
+just what another does not want him to know is ever the pursuit of a
+detective. At the same time the subconscious flashing and wondering at
+the name Rhamda Avec--surely neither Teutonic nor Sanskrit nor anything
+between.
+
+"Expecting me? Ah, yes. Pardon me if I speak slowly. I am not quite used
+to speech--yet. I see you are interested. After I see Dr. Holcomb I may
+tell you. However, it is very urgent that I see the doctor. He--well, I
+may say that we have known each other a long time."
+
+"Then you know him?"
+
+"Yes, in a way; though we have never met. He must be a great man. We
+have much in common, your doctor and I; and we have a great deal to
+give to your world. However, I would not recognise him should I see him.
+Would you by any chance--"
+
+"You mean would I be your guide? With pleasure. It just happens that I
+am on friendly terms with your friend Dr. Holcomb."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY
+
+
+And now to start in on another angle. There is hardly any necessity for
+introducing Dr. Holcomb. All of us, at least, those who read, and, most
+of all, those of us who are interested in any manner of speculation,
+knew him quite well. He was the professor of philosophy at the
+University of California: a great man and a good one, one of those fine
+academic souls who, not only by their wisdom, but by their character,
+have a way of stamping themselves upon generations; a speaker of the
+upstanding class, walking on his own feet and utterly fearless when it
+came to dashing out on some startling philosophy that had not been borne
+up by his forebears.
+
+He was original. He believed that the philosophies of the ages are but
+stepping stones, that the wisdom of the earth looked but to the future,
+and that the study of the classics, however essential, is but the ground
+work for combining and working out the problems of the future. He was
+epigrammatic, terse, and gifted with a quaint humour, with which he
+was apt, even when in the driest philosophy, to drive in and clinch his
+argument.
+
+Best of all, he was able to clothe the most abstract thoughts in
+language so simple and concrete that he brought the deepest of all
+subjects down to the scope of the commonest thinker. It is needless
+to say that he was 'copy.' The papers about the bay were ever and anon
+running some startling story of the professor.
+
+Had they stuck to the text it would all have been well; but a reporter
+is a reporter; in spite of the editors there were numerous little
+elaborations to pervert the context. A great man must be careful of his
+speech. Dr. Holcomb was often busy refuting; he could not understand the
+need of these little twistings of wisdom. It kept him in controversy;
+the brothers of his profession often took him to task for these little
+distorted scraps of philosophy. He did not like journalism. He had a way
+of consigning all writers and editors to the devil.
+
+Which was vastly amusing to the reporters. Once they had him going they
+poised their pens in glee and began splashing their venomous ink. It was
+tragic; the great professor standing at bay to his tormentors. One and
+all they loved him and one and all they took delight in his torture. It
+was a hard task for a reporter to get in at a lecture; and yet it was
+often the lot of the professor to find himself and his words featured in
+his breakfast paper.
+
+On the very day before this the doctor had come out with one of his
+terse startling statements. He had a way of inserting parenthetically
+some of his scraps of wisdom. It was in an Ethics class. We quote his
+words as near as possible:
+
+"Man, let me tell you, is egotistic. All our philosophy is based on ego.
+We live threescore years and we balance it with all eternity. We are it.
+Did you ever stop and think of eternity? It is a rather long time.
+What right have we to say that life, which we assume to be everlasting,
+immediately becomes restrospect once it passes out of the conscious
+individuality which is allotted upon this earth? The trouble is
+ourselves. We are five-sensed. We weigh everything! We so measure
+eternity. Until we step out into other senses, which undoubtedly exist,
+we shall never arrive at the conception of infinity. Now I am going to
+make a rather startling announcement.
+
+"The past few years have promised a culmination which has been guessed
+at and yearned for since the beginning of time. It is within, and still
+without, the scope of metaphysics. Those of you who have attended my
+lectures have heard me call myself the material idealist. I am a
+mystic sensationalist. I believe that we can derive nothing from pure
+contemplation. There is mystery and wonder in the veil of the
+occult. The earth, our life, is merely a vestibule of the universe.
+Contemplation alone will hold us all as inapt and as impotent as the
+old Monks of Athos. We have mountains of literature behind us, all
+contemplative, and whatever its wisdom, it has given us not one thing
+outside the abstract. From Plato down to the present our philosophy
+has given us not one tangible proof, not one concrete fact which we can
+place our hands on. We are virtually where we were originally; and we
+can talk, talk, talk from now until the clap of doomsday.
+
+"What then?
+
+"My friends, philosophy must take a step sidewise. In this modern age
+young science, practical science, has grown up and far surpassed us. We
+must go back to the beginning, forget our subjective musings and enter
+the concrete. We are five-sensed, and in the nature of things we must
+bring the proof down into the concrete where we can understand it. Can
+we pierce the nebulous screen that shuts us out of the occult? We have
+doubted, laughed at ourselves and been laughed at; but the fact remains
+that always we have persisted in the believing.
+
+"I have said that we shall never, never understand infinity while within
+the limitations of our five senses. I repeat it. But that does not imply
+that we shall never solve some of the mystery of life. The occult is not
+only a supposition, but a fact. We have peopled it with terror, because,
+like our forebears before Columbus, we have peopled it with imagination.
+
+"And now to my statement.
+
+"I have called myself the Material Idealist. I have adopted an entirely
+new trend of philosophy. During the past years, unknown to you and
+unknown to my friends, I have allied myself with practical science. I
+desired something concrete. While my colleagues and others were pounding
+out tomes of wonderful sophistry I have been pounding away at the screen
+of the occult. This is a proud moment. I have succeeded. Tomorrow I
+shall bring to you the fact and the substance. I have lifted up the
+curtain and flooded it with the light of day. You shall have the fact
+for your senses. Tomorrow I shall explain it all. I shall deliver my
+greatest lecture; in which my whole Me has come to a focus. It is not
+spiritualism nor sophistry. It is concrete fact and common sense. The
+subject of my lecture tomorrow will be: 'The Blind Spot.'"
+
+Here begins the second part of the mystery.
+
+We know now that the great lecture was never delivered. Immediately the
+news was scattered out of the class-room. It became common property.
+It was spread over the country and was featured in all the great
+metropolitan dailies. In the lecture-room next morning seats were at a
+premium; students, professors, instructors and all the prominent people
+who could gain admission crowded into the hall; even the irrepressible
+reporters had stolen in to take down the greatest scoop of the century.
+The place was jammed until even standing room was unthought of. The
+crowd, dense and packed and physically uncomfortable, waited.
+
+The minutes dragged by. It was a long, long wait. But at last the bell
+rang that ticked the hour. Every one was expectant. And then fifteen
+minutes passed by, twenty--the crowd settled down to waiting. At length
+one of the colleagues stepped into the doctor's office and telephoned to
+his home. His daughter answered.
+
+"Father? Why he left over two hours ago."
+
+"About what time?"
+
+"Why, it was about seven-thirty. You know he was to deliver his lecture
+today on the Blind Spot. I wanted to hear it, but he told me I could
+have it at home. He said he was to have a wonderful guest and I must
+make ready to receive him. Isn't father there?"
+
+"Not yet. Who was this guest? Did he say?"
+
+"Oh yes! In a way. A most wonderful man. And he gave him a wonderful
+name, Rhamda Avec. I remember because it is so funny. I asked father if
+he was Sanskrit; and he said he was much older than that. Just imagine!"
+
+"Did your father have his lecture with him?"
+
+"Oh, yes. He glanced over it at breakfast. He told me he was going to
+startle the world as it had never been since the day of Columbus."
+
+"Indeed."
+
+"Yes. And he was terribly impatient. He said he had to be at the college
+before eight to receive the great man. He was to deliver his lecture at
+ten. And afterward he would have lunch at noon and he would give me the
+whole story. I'm all impatience."
+
+"Thank you."
+
+Then he came back and made the announcement that there was a little
+delay; but that Dr. Holcomb would be there shortly. But he was not. At
+twelve o'clock there were still some people waiting. At one o'clock the
+last man had slipped out of the room--and wondered. In all the country
+there was but one person who knew. That one was an obscure man who had
+yielded to a detective's intuition and had fallen inadvertently upon one
+of the greatest mysteries of modern times.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+"NOW THERE ARE TWO"
+
+
+The rest of the story is unfortunately all too easily told. We go back
+to Jerome and his strange companion.
+
+At Centre Street station they alighted and walked up to the university.
+Under the Le Conte oaks they met the professor. He was trim and happy,
+his short, well-built figure clothed in black, his snow-white whiskers
+trimmed to the usual square crop and his pink skin glowing with splendid
+health. The fog had by this time lifted and the sun was just beginning
+to overcome the chilliness of the air. There was no necessity for an
+introduction.
+
+The two men apparently recognised each other at once. So we have it from
+the detective. There was sincerity in the delight of their hand-clasp. A
+strange pair, both of them with the distinction and poise that come
+from refinement and intellectual training; though in physique they were
+almost opposite, there was still a strange, almost mutual, bond between
+them. Dr. Holcomb was beaming.
+
+"At last!" he greeted. "At last! I was sure we could not fail. This, my
+dear Dr. Avec, is the greatest day since Columbus."
+
+The other took the hand.
+
+"So this is the great Dr. Holcomb. Yes, indeed, it is a great day;
+though I know nothing about your Columbus. So far it has been simply
+wonderful. I can scarcely credit my senses. So near and yet so far. How
+can it be? A dream? Are you sure, Dr. Holcomb?"
+
+"My dear Rhamda, I am sure that I am the happiest man that ever lived.
+It is the culmination. I was certain we could not fail; though, of
+course, to me also it is an almost impossible climax of fact. I should
+never have succeeded without your assistance."
+
+The other smiled.
+
+"That was of small account, my dear doctor. To yourself must go the
+credit; to me the pleasure. Take your sun, for instance, I--but I have
+not the language to tell you."
+
+But the doctor had gone in to abstraction.
+
+"A great day," he was beaming. "A great day! What will the world say? It
+is proved." Then suddenly: "You have eaten?"
+
+"Not yet. You must allow me a bit of time. I thought of it; but I had
+not quite the courage to venture."
+
+"Then we shall eat," said the other man. "Afterward we shall go up to
+the lecture-room. Today I shall deliver my lecture on the Blind Spot.
+And when I am through you shall deliver the words that will astonish the
+world."
+
+But here it seems there was a hitch. The other shook his head kindly.
+It was evident that while the doctor was the leader, the other was a
+co-worker who must be considered.
+
+"I am afraid, professor, that you have promised a bit too much. I am not
+entirely free yet, you know. Two hours is the most that I can give you;
+and not entirely that. There are some details that may not be neglected.
+It is a far venture and now that we have succeeded this far there is
+surely no reason why we cannot go on. However, it is necessary that I
+return to the house on Chatterton Place. I have but slightly over an
+hour left."
+
+The doctor was plainly disappointed.
+
+"But the lecture?"
+
+"It means my life, professor, and the subsequent success of our
+experiment. A few details, a few minutes. Perhaps if we hurry we can get
+back in time."
+
+The doctor glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes for the train, twenty
+minutes for the boat, ten minutes; that's an hour, two hours. These
+details? Have you any idea how long, Rhamda?"
+
+"Perhaps not more than fifteen minutes."
+
+"We have still two hours. Fifteen minutes; perhaps a little bit late.
+Tell you what. I shall go with you. You can get on the boat."
+
+We have said that the detective had intuition. He had it still. Yet
+he had no rational reason for suspecting either the professor or his
+strange companion. Furthermore he had never heard of the Blind Spot
+in any way whatsoever; nor did he know a single thing of philosophy
+or anything else in Holcomb's teaching. He knew the doctor as a man
+of eminent standing and respectability. It was hardly natural that he
+should suspect anything sinister to grow out of this meeting of two
+refined scholars. He attached no great importance to the trend of their
+conversation. It was strange, to be sure; but he felt, no doubt, that
+living in their own world they had a way and a language of their own. He
+was no scholar.
+
+Still, he could think. The man Rhamda had made an assertion that he
+could not quite uncover. It puzzled him. Something told him that for the
+safety of his old friend it might be well for him to shadow the strange
+pair to the city.
+
+When the next train pulled out for the pier the two scholars were
+seated in the forward part of the car. In the last seat was a man deeply
+immersed in a morning paper.
+
+It is rather unfortunate. In the natural delicacy of the situation
+Jerome could not crowd too closely. He had no certainty of trouble; no
+proof whatever; he was known to the professor. The best he could do was
+to keep aloof and follow their movements. At the ferry building they
+hailed a taxi and started up Market Street. Jerome watched them. In
+another moment he had another driver and was winding behind in their
+wheel tracks. The cab made straight for Chatterton Place. In front of a
+substantial two-story house it drew up. The two men alighted. Jerome's
+taxi passed them.
+
+They were then at the head of the steps; a woman of slender beauty
+with a wonderful loose fold of black hair was talking. It seemed to the
+detective that her voice was fearful, of a pregnant warning, that she
+was protesting. Nevertheless, the old men entered and the door slammed
+behind them. Jerome slipped from the taxi and spoke a few words to
+the driver. A moment later the two men were holding the house under
+surveillance.
+
+They did not have long to wait. The man called Rhamda had asked for
+fifteen minutes. At the stroke of the second the front door re-opened.
+Someone was laughing; a melodious enchanting laugh and feminine. A woman
+was speaking. And then there were two forms in the doorway. A man and
+a woman. The man was Rhamda Avec, tall, immaculate, black clad and
+distinguished. The woman, Jerome was not certain that she was the
+same who opened the door or not; she was even more beautiful. She
+was laughing. Like her companion she was clad in black, a beautiful
+shimmering material which sparkled in the sun like the rarest silk.
+The man glanced carelessly up and down the street for a moment. Then he
+assisted the lady down the steps and into the taxi. The door slammed;
+and before the detective could gather his scattered wits they were lost
+in the city.
+
+Jerome was expecting the professor. Naturally when the door opened he
+looked for the old gentleman and his companion. It was the doctor he was
+watching, not the other. Though he had no rational reason for expecting
+trouble he had still his hunch and his intuition. The man and woman
+aroused suspicion; and likewise upset his calculation. He could not
+follow them and stay with the professor. It was a moment for quick
+decision. He wondered. Where was Dr. Holcomb? This was the day he was to
+deliver his lecture on the Blind Spot. He had read the announcement in
+the paper on the way back, together with certain comments by the editor.
+In the lecture itself there was mystery. This strange one, Rhamda,
+was mixed in the Blind Spot. Undoubtedly he was the essential fact and
+substance. Until now he had not scented tragedy. Why had Rhamda and the
+woman come out together? Where was the professor?
+
+Where indeed?
+
+At the end of a half-hour Jerome ventured across the street. He noted
+the number 288. Then he ascended the steps and clanged at the knocker.
+From the sounds that came from inside, the place was but partly
+furnished. Hollow steps sounded down the hallway, shuffling, like weary
+bones dragging slippers. The door opened and an old woman, very old,
+peered out of the crack. She coughed. Though it was not a loud cough
+it seemed to the detective that it would be her last one; there was so
+little of her.
+
+"Pardon me, but is Dr. Holcomb here?"
+
+The old lady looked up at him. The eyes were of blank expressionless
+blue; she was in her dotage.
+
+"You mean--oh, yes, I think so, the old man with the white whiskers. He
+was here a few minutes ago, with that other. But he just went out, sir,
+he just went out."
+
+"No, I don't think so. There was a man went out and a woman. But not Dr.
+Holcomb."
+
+"A woman? There was no woman."
+
+"Oh, yes, there was a woman--a very beautiful one."
+
+The old lady dropped her hand. It was trembling.
+
+"Oh, dear," she was saying. "This makes two. This morning it was a man
+and now it is a woman, that makes two."
+
+It seemed to the man as he looked down in her eyes that he was looking
+into great fear; she was so slight and frail and helpless and so old;
+such a fragile thing to bear burden and trouble. Her voice was cracked
+and just above a shrill whisper, almost uncanny. She kept repeating:
+
+"Now there are two. Now there are two. That makes two. This morning
+there was one. Now there are two."
+
+Jerome could not understand. He pitied the old lady.
+
+"Did you say that Dr. Holcomb is here?"
+
+Again she looked up: the same blank expression, she was evidently trying
+to gather her wits.
+
+"Two. A woman. Dr. Holcomb. Oh, yes, Dr. Holcomb. Won't you come in?"
+
+She opened the door.
+
+Jerome entered and took off his hat. Judicially he repeated the doctor's
+name to keep it in her mind. She closed the door carefully and touched
+his arm. It seemed to him that she was terribly weak and tottering; her
+old eyes, however expressionless, were full of pitiful pleading. She was
+scarcely more than a shadow.
+
+"You are his son?"
+
+Jerome lied; but he did it for a reason. "Yes."
+
+"Then come."
+
+She took him by the sleeve and led him to a room, then across it to a
+door in the side wall. Her step was slow and feeble; twice she stopped
+to sing the dirge of her wonder. "First a man and then a woman. Now
+there is one. You are his son." And twice she stopped and listened. "Do
+you hear anything? A bell? I love to hear it: and then afterward I am
+afraid. Did you ever notice a bell? It always makes you think of church
+and the things that are holy. This is a beautiful bell--first--"
+
+Either the woman was without her reason or very nearly so: she was very
+frail.
+
+"Come, mother, I know, first a bell, but Dr. Holcomb?"
+
+The name brought her back again. For a moment she was blank trying to
+recall her senses. And then she remembered. She pointed to the door.
+
+"In there--Dr. Holcomb. That's where they come. That's where they
+go. Dr. Holcomb. The little old man with the beautiful whiskers. This
+morning it was a man; now it is a woman. Now there are two. Oh, dear;
+perhaps we shall hear the bell."
+
+Jerome began to scent a tragedy. Certainly the old lady was uncanny; the
+house was bare and hollow; the scant furniture was threadbare with
+age and mildew; each sound was exaggerated and fearful, even their
+breathing. He placed his hand on the knob and opened the door.
+
+"Now there are two. Now there are two."
+
+The room was empty. Not a bit of furniture; a blank, bare apartment with
+an old-fashioned high ceiling. Nothing else. Whatever the weirdness and
+adventure, Jerome was getting nowhere. The old lady was still clinging
+to his arm and still droning:
+
+"Now there are two. Now there are two. This morning a man; now a woman.
+Now there are two."
+
+"Come, mother, come. This will not do. Perhaps--"
+
+But just then the old lady's lean fingers clinched into his arm; her
+eyes grew bright; her mouth opened and she stopped in the middle of her
+drone. Jerome grew rigid. And no wonder. From the middle of the room
+not ten feet away came the tone of a bell, a great silvery voluminous
+sound--and music. A church bell. Just one stroke, full toned, filling
+all the air till the whole room was choked with music. Then as suddenly
+it died out and faded into nothing. At the same time he felt the fingers
+on his arm relax; and a heap was at his feet. He reached over. The life
+and intelligence that was so near the line was just crossing over the
+border. The poor old lady! Here was a tragedy he could not understand.
+He stooped over to assist her. He was trembling. As he did so he heard
+the drone of her soul as it wafted to the shadow:
+
+"Now there are two."
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+GONE
+
+
+Jerome was a strong man, of iron nerve, and well set against emotion;
+in the run of his experience he had been plumped into many startling
+situations; but none like this. The croon of the old lady thrummed in
+his ears with endless repetition. He picked her up tenderly and bore her
+to another room and placed her on a ragged sofa. There were still marks
+on her face of former beauty. He wondered who she was and what had been
+her life to come to such an ending.
+
+"Now there are two," the words were withering with oppression.
+Subconsciously he felt the load that crushed her spirit. It was as if
+the burden had been shifted; he sensed the weight of an unaccountable
+disaster.
+
+The place was musty and ill-lighted. He looked about him, the dank,
+close air was unwashed by daylight. A stray ray of sunshine filtering
+through the broken shutter slanted across the room and sought vainly
+to dispel the shadow. He thought of Dr. Holcomb and the old lady.
+"Now there are two." Was it a double tragedy? First of all he must
+investigate.
+
+The place was of eleven rooms, six downstairs and five on the upper
+story. With the exception of one broken chair there was no furniture
+upstairs; four of the rooms on the lower floor were partly furnished,
+two not at all. A rear room had evidently been to the old lady the
+whole of her habitation, serving as a kitchen, bedroom, and living-room
+combined. Except in this room there were no carpets what-ever. His steps
+sounded hollow and ghostly; the boards creaked and each time he opened
+a door he was oppressed by the same gloom of dankness and stagnation.
+There was no trace of Dr. Holcomb.
+
+He remembered the bell and sought vainly on both floors for anything
+that would give him a clue to the sound. There was nothing. The only
+thing he heard was the echoing of his own creaking footsteps and the
+unceasing tune that dinned in his spirit, "Now there are two."
+
+At last he came to the door and looked out into the street. The sun
+was shining and the life and pulse was rising from the city. It was
+daylight; plain, healthy day. It was good to look at. On the threshold
+of the door he felt himself standing on the border of two worlds. What
+had become of the doctor and who was the old lady; and lastly and just
+as important, who was the Rhamda and his beautiful companion?
+
+Jerome telephoned to headquarters.
+
+It was a strange case.
+
+At the precise minute when his would-be auditors were beginning to
+fidget over his absence, the police of San Francisco had started the
+search for the great doctor. Jerome had followed his intuition. It had
+led him into a tragedy and he was ready to swear almost on his soul
+that it was twofold. The prominence of the professor, together with his
+startling announcement of the day previous and the world-wide comment
+that it had aroused, elevated the case to a national interest.
+
+What was the Blind Spot? The world conjectured, and like the world has
+been since beginning, it scoffed and derided. Some there were, however,
+men well up in the latest discoveries of science, who did not laugh.
+They counselled forbearance; they would wait for the doctor and his
+lecture.
+
+There was no lecture. In the teeth of our expectation came the startling
+word that the doctor had disappeared. Apparently when on the very verge
+of announcing his discovery he had been swallowed by the very force that
+he had loosened. There was nothing in known science outside of optics,
+that could in any way be blended with the Blind Spot. There were but two
+solutions; either the professor had been a victim of a clever rogue, or
+he had been overcome by the rashness of his own wisdom. At any rate, it
+was known from that minute on as "THE BLIND SPOT."
+
+Perhaps it is just as well to take up the findings of the police. The
+police of course never entertained any suggestion of the occult. They
+are material; and were convinced from the start that the case had its
+origin in downright villainy. Man is complex; but being so, is oft
+overbalanced by evil Some genius had made a fool of the doctor.
+
+In the first place a thorough search was made for the professor. The
+house at No. 288 Chatterton Place was ransacked from cellar to attic.
+The records were gone over and it was found that the property had for
+some time been vacant; that the real ownership was vested in a number of
+heirs scattered about the country.
+
+The old lady had apparently been living on the place simply through
+sufferance. No one could find out who she was. A few tradesman in the
+vicinity had sold her some scant supplies and that was all. The stress
+that Jerome placed upon her actions and words was; given its due
+account. There were undoubtedly two villains; but there were two
+victims. That the old lady was such as well as the professor no one has
+doubted. The whole secret lay in the gentleman with the Eastern cast and
+complexion. Who was Rhamda Avec?
+
+And now comes the strangest part of the story. Ever, when we re-count
+the tale, there is something to overturn the theories of the police.
+It has become a sort of legend in San Francisco; one to be taken with
+a grain of salt, to be sure, but for all that, one at which we may well
+wonder. Here the supporters of the professor's philosophy hold their
+strongest point--if it is true. Of course we can venture no private
+opinion, never having been a witness. It is this:
+
+Rhamda Avec is with us and in our city. His description and drawn
+likeness have been published many times. There are those who aver that
+they have seen him in reality of the flesh walking through the crowds of
+Market Street.
+
+He is easily distinguished, tall and distinctive, refined to a high
+degree, and with the poise and alertness of a gentleman of reliance and
+character. Women look twice and wonder; he is neither old nor young;
+when he smiles it is like youth breaking in laughter. And with him often
+is his beautiful companion.
+
+Men vouch for her beauty and swear that it is of the kind that drives to
+distraction. She is fire and flesh and carnal--she is more than beauty.
+There is allurement about her body; sylph-like, sinuous; the olive
+tint of her complexion, the wonderful glory of her hair and the glowing
+night-black of her eyes. Men pause; she is of the superlative kind that
+robs the reason, a supreme glory of passion and life and beauty, at
+whose feet fools and wise men would slavishly frolic and folly. She
+seldom speaks, but those who have heard her say that it is like rippling
+water, of gentleness and softness and of the mellow flow that comes from
+love and passion and from beauty.
+
+Of course there is nothing out of the ordinary in their walking down the
+streets. Anybody might do that. The wonder comes in the manner in which
+they elude the police. They come and go in the broad, bright daylight.
+Hundreds have seen them. They make no effort at concealment, nor
+disguise. And yet no phantoms were ever more unreal than they to those
+who seek them. Who are they? The officers have been summoned on many
+occasions; but each and every time in some manner or way they had
+contrived to elude them. There are some who have consigned them to the
+limbo of illusion. But we do not entirely agree.
+
+In a case like this it is well to take into consideration the
+respectability and character of those who have witnessed. Phantoms are
+not corporeal; these two are flesh and blood. There is mystery about
+them; but they are substance, the same as we are.
+
+And lastly:
+
+If you will take the Key Route ferry some foggy morning you may see
+something to convince you. It must be foggy and the air must be grey and
+drab and sombre. Take the lower deck. Perhaps you will see nothing. If
+not try again; for they say you shall be rewarded. Watch the forward
+part of the boat; but do not leave the inner deck. The great Rhamda
+watching the grey swirl of the water!
+
+He stands alone, in his hands the case of reddish leather, his feet
+slightly apart and his face full of a great hungry wonder. Watch his
+features: they are strong and aglow with a great and wondrous wisdom;
+mark if you see evil. And remember. Though he is like you he is
+something vastly different. He is flesh and blood; but perhaps the
+master of one of the greatest laws that man can attain to. He is the
+fact and the substance that was promised, but was not delivered by the
+professor.
+
+This account has been largely taken from one of the Sunday editions of
+our papers. I do not agree with it entirely. Nevertheless, it will serve
+as an excellent foundation for my own adventures; and what is best of
+all, save labour.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+FRIENDS
+
+
+My name is Harry Wendel.
+
+I am an attorney and until recently boasted of a splendid practice and
+an excellent prospect for the future. I am still a young man; I have
+had a good education and still have friends and admirers. Such being the
+case, you no doubt wonder why I give a past reference to my practice and
+what the future might have held for me. Listen:
+
+I might as well start 'way back. I shall do it completely and go back to
+the fast-receding time of childhood.
+
+There is a recollection of childish disaster. I had been making
+strenuous efforts to pull the tail out of the cat that I might use
+it for a feather duster. My desire was supreme logic. I could not
+understand objection; the cat resisted for certain utilitarian reasons
+of its own and my mother through humane sympathy. I had been scratched
+and spanked in addition: it was the first storm centre that I remember.
+I had been punished but not subdued. At the first opportunity, I stole
+out of the house and onto the lawn that stretched out to the pavement.
+
+I remember the day. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and
+everything was green with springtime. For a minute I stood still and
+blinked in the sunlight. It was beautiful and soft and balmy; the
+world at full exuberance; the buds upon the trees, the flowers, and the
+songbirds singing. I could not understand it. It was so beautiful and
+soft. My heart was still beating fiercely, still black with perversity
+and stricken rancour. The world had no right to be so. I hated with the
+full rush of childish anger.
+
+And then I saw.
+
+Across the street coming over to meet me was a child of my age. He was
+fat and chubby, a mass of yellow curls and laughter; when he walked he
+held his feet out at angles as is the manner of fat boys and his arms
+away from his body. I slid off the porch quietly. Here was something
+that could suffer for the cat and my mother. At my rush he stopped in
+wonder. I remember his smiling face and my anger. In an instant I had
+him by the hair and was biting with all the fury of vindictiveness.
+
+At first he set up a great bawl for assistance. He could not understand;
+he screamed and held his hands aloft to keep them out of my reach. Then
+he tried to run away. But I had learned from the cat that had scratched
+me. I clung on, biting, tearing. The shrill of his scream was music: it
+was conflict, sweet and delicious; it was strife, swift as instinct.
+
+At last I stopped him; he ceased trying to get away and began to
+struggle. It was better still; it was resistance. But he was stronger
+than I; though I was quicker he managed to get my by the shoulders,
+to force me back, and finally to upset me. Then in the stolid way, and
+after the manner of fat boys, he sat upon my chest. When our startled
+mothers came upon the scene they so found us--I upon my back, clinching
+my teeth and threatening all the dire fates of childhood, and he waiting
+either for assistance or until my ire should retire sufficiently to
+allow him to release me in safety.
+
+"Who did it? Who started it?"
+
+That I remember plainly.
+
+"Hobart, did you do this?" The fat boy backed off quietly and clung to
+his mother; but he did not answer.
+
+"Hobart, did you start this?"
+
+Still no answer.
+
+"Harry, this was you; you started it. Didn't you try to hurt Hobart?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+My mother took me by the hand and drew me away.
+
+"He is a rascal, Mrs. Fenton, and has a temper like sin; but he will
+tell the truth, thank goodness."
+
+I am telling this not for the mere relation, but by way of introduction.
+It was my first meeting with Hobart Fenton. It is necessary that you
+know us both and our characters. Our lives are so entwined and so
+related that without it you could not get the gist of the story. In
+the afternoon I came across the street to play with Hobart. He met me
+smiling. It was not in his healthy little soul to hold resentment. I was
+either all smiles or anger. I forgot as quickly as I battled. That night
+there were two happy youngsters tucked into the bed and covers.
+
+So we grew up; one with the other. We played as children do and fought
+as boys have done from the beginning. I shall say right now that the
+fights were mostly my fault. I started them one and all; and if every
+battle had the same beginning it likewise had the same ending. The first
+fight was but the forerunner of all the others.
+
+Please do not think hardly of Hobart. He is the kindest soul in the
+world; there never was a truer lad nor a kinder heart. He was strong,
+healthy, fat, and, like fat boys, forever laughing. He followed me
+into trouble and when I was retreating he valiantly defended the rear.
+Stronger, sturdier, and slower, he has been a sort of protector from the
+beginning. I have called him the Rear Guard; and he does not resent it.
+
+I have always been in mischief, restless, and eager for anything that
+would bring quick action; and when I got into deep water Hobart would
+come along, pluck me out and pull me to shore and safety. Did you ever
+see a great mastiff and a fox terrier running together? It is a homely
+illustration; but an apt one.
+
+We were boys together, with our delights and troubles, joys and sorrows.
+I thought so much of Hobart that I did not shirk stooping to help him
+take care of his baby sister. That is about the supreme sacrifice of
+a boy's devotion. In after years, of course, he has laughed at me and
+swears I did it on purpose. I do not know, but I am willing to admit
+that I think a whole lot of that sister.
+
+Side by side we grew up and into manhood. We went to school and
+into college. Even as we were at odds in our physical builds and our
+dispositions, so were we in our studies. From the beginning Hobart has
+had a mania for screws, bolts, nuts, and pistons. He is practical; he
+likes mathematics; he can talk to you from the binomial theorem up
+into Calculus; he is never so happy as when the air is buzzing with
+a conversation charged with induction coils, alternating currents,
+or atomic energy. The whole swing and force of popular science is his
+kingdom. I will say for Hobart that he is just about in line to be king
+of it all. Today he is in South America, one of our greatest engineers.
+He is bringing the water down from the Andes; and it is just about like
+those strong shoulders and that good head to restore the land of the
+Incas.
+
+About myself? I went into the law. I enjoy an atmosphere of strife and
+contention. I liked books and discussion and I thought that I would like
+the law. On the advice of my elders I entered law college, and in due
+time was admitted to practice. It was while studying to qualify that
+I first ran into philosophy. I was a lad to enjoy quick, pithy,
+epigrammatic statements. I have always favoured a man who hits from the
+shoulder. Professor Holcomb was a man of terse, heavy thinking; he spoke
+what he thought and he did not quibble. He favoured no one.
+
+I must confess that the old white-haired professor left his stamp upon
+me. I loved him like all the rest; though I was not above playing a
+trick on the old fellow occasionally. Still he had a wit of his own and
+seldom came out second best, and when he lost out he could laugh like
+the next one. I was deeply impressed by him. As I took course after
+course under him I was convinced that for all of his dry philosophy the
+old fellow had a trick up his sleeve; he had a way of expounding that
+was rather startling; likewise, he had a scarcely concealed contempt for
+some of the demigods of our old philosophy.
+
+What this trick was I could never uncover. I hung on and dug into great
+tomes of wisdom. I became interested and gradually took up with his
+speculation; for all my love of action I found that I had a strong
+subcurrent for the philosophical.
+
+Now I roomed with Hobart. When I would come home with some dry tome and
+would lose myself in it by the hour he could not understand it. I was
+preparing for the law. He could see no advantage to be derived from this
+digging into speculation. He was practical and unless he could drive a
+nail into a thing or at least dig into its chemical elements it was hard
+to get him interested.
+
+"Of what use is it, Harry? Why waste your brains? These old fogies have
+been pounding on the question for three thousand years. What have they
+got? You could read all their literature from the pyramids down to the
+present sky-scrapers and you wouldn't get enough practical wisdom to
+drive a dump-cart."
+
+"That's just it," I answered. "I'm not hankering for a dump-cart.
+You have an idea that all the wisdom in the world is locked up in the
+concrete; unless a thing has wheels, pistons, some sort of combustion,
+or a chemical action you are not interested. What gives you the control
+over your machinery? Brains! But what makes the mind go?"
+
+Hobart blinked. "Fine," he answered. "Go on."
+
+"Well," I answered, "that's what I am after."
+
+He laughed. "Great. Well, keep at it. It's your funeral, Harry. When you
+have found, it let me know and I'll beat you to the patent."
+
+With that he turned to his desk and dug into one of his everlasting
+formulas. Just the same, next day when I entered Holcomb's lecture-room
+I was in for a surprise. My husky room-mate was in the seat beside me.
+
+"What's the big idea?" I asked. "Big idea is right, Harry," he grinned.
+"Just thought I would beat you to it. Had a dickens of a time with
+Dan Clark, of the engineering department. Told him I wanted to study
+philosophy. The old boy put up a beautiful holler. Couldn't understand
+what an engineer would want with psychology or ethics. Neither could I
+until I got to thinking last night when I went to roost. Because a thing
+has never been done is no reason why it never will be; is it, Harry?"
+
+"Certainly not. I don't know just what you are driving at. Perhaps you
+intend to take your notes over to the machine shop and hammer out the
+Secret of the Absolute."
+
+He grinned.
+
+"Pretty wise head at that, Harry. What did you call it? The Secret of
+the Absolute. Will remember that. I'm not much on phrases; but I'm sure
+the strong boy with the hammer. You don't object to my sitting here
+beside you; so that I, too, may drink in the little drops of wisdom?"
+
+It was in this way that Hobart entered into the study of philosophy.
+When the class was over and we were going down the steps he patted me on
+the shoulder.
+
+"That's not so bad, Harry. Not so bad. The old doctor is there; he's got
+them going. Likewise little Hobart has got a big idea."
+
+Now it happened that this was just about six weeks before Dr. Holcomb
+announced his great lecture on the Blind Spot. It was not more than a
+week after registration. In the time ensuing Fenton became just as
+great an enthusiast as myself. His idea, of course, was chimerical and
+a blind; his main purpose was to get in with me where he could argue me
+out of my folly.
+
+He wound up by being a convert of the professor.
+
+Then came the great day. The night of the announcement we had a long
+discussion. It was a deep question. For all of my faith in the professor
+I was hardly prepared for a thing like this. Strange to say I was the
+sceptic; and stranger still, it was Hobart who took the side of the
+doctor.
+
+"Why not?" he said. "It merely comes down to this: you grant that a
+thing is possible and then you deny the possibility of a proof--outside
+of your abstract. That's good paradox, Harry; but almighty poor logic.
+If it is so it certainly can be proven. There's not one reason in the
+world why we can't have something concrete. The professor is right. I am
+with him. He's the only professor in all the ages."
+
+Well, it turned out as it did. It was a terrible blow to us all. Most
+of the world took it as a great murder or an equally great case of
+abduction. There were but few, even in the university, who embraced the
+side of the doctor. It was a case of villainy, of a couple of remarkably
+clever rogues and a trusting scholar.
+
+But there was one whose faith was not diminished. He had been one of
+the last to come under the influence of the doctor. He was practical and
+concrete, and not at all attuned to philosophy; he had not the training
+for deep dry thinking. He would not recede one whit. One day I caught
+him sitting down with his head between his hands. I touched him on the
+shoulder.
+
+"What's the deep study?" I asked him.
+
+He looked up. By his eyes I could see that his thoughts had been far
+away.
+
+"What's the deep study?" I repeated.
+
+"I was just thinking, Harry; just thinking."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I was just thinking, Harry, that I would like to have about one hundred
+thousand dollars and about ten years' leisure."
+
+"That's a nice thought," I answered; "I could think that myself. What
+would you do with it?"
+
+"Do? Why, there is just one thing that I would do if I had that much
+money. I would solve the Blind Spot."
+
+This happened years ago while we were still in college. Many things have
+occurred since then. I am writing this on the verge of disaster. How
+little do we know! What was the idea that buzzed in the head of Hobart
+Fenton? He is concrete, physical, fearless. He is in South America. I
+have cabled to him and expect him as fast as steam can bring him. The
+great idea and discovery of the professor is a fact, not fiction. What
+is it? That I cannot answer. I have found it and I am a witness to its
+potency.
+
+Some law has been missed through the ages. It is inexorable and
+insidious; it is concrete. Out of the unknown comes terror. Through the
+love for the great professor I have pitted myself against it. From the
+beginning it has been almost hopeless. I remember that last digression
+in ethics. "The mystery of the occult may be solved. We are five-sensed.
+When we bring the thing down to the concrete we may understand."
+
+Sometimes I wonder at the Rhamda. Is he a man or a phantom? Does he
+control the Blind Spot? Is he the substance and the proof that was
+promised by Dr. Holcomb? Through what process and what laws did the
+professor acquire even his partial control over the phenomena? Where
+did the Rhamda and his beautiful companion come from? Who are they? And
+lastly--what was the idea that buzzed in the head of Hobart Fenton?
+
+When I look back now I wonder. I have never believed in fate. I do not
+believe in it now. Man is the master of his own destiny. We are cowards
+else. Whatever is to be known we should know it. One's duty is ever to
+one's fellows. Heads up and onward. I am not a brave man, perhaps, under
+close analysis; but once I have given my word I shall keep it. I have
+done my bit; my simple duty. Perhaps I have failed. In holding myself
+against the Blind Spot I have done no more than would have been done by
+a million others. I have only one regret. Failure is seldom rewarded. I
+had hoped that my life would be the last; I have a dim hope still. If I
+fail in the end, there must be still one more to follow.
+
+Understand I do not expect to die. It is the unknown that I am afraid
+of. I who thought that we knew so much have found it still so little.
+There are so many laws in the weave of Cosmos that are still unguessed.
+What is this death that we are afraid of? What is life? Can we solve it?
+Is it permissible? What is the Blind Spot? If Hobart Fenton is right it
+has nothing to do with death. If so, what is it?
+
+My pen is weak. I am weary. I am waiting for Hobart. Perhaps I shall not
+last. When he comes I want him to know my story. What he knows already
+will not hurt repeating. It is well that man shall have it; it may be
+that we shall both fail-there is no telling; but if we do the world can
+profit by our blunders and guide itself--perhaps to the mastery of the
+phenomenon that controls the Blind Spot.
+
+I ask you to bear with me. If I make a few mistakes or I am a bit loose,
+remember the stress under which I am writing. I shall try to be plain so
+that all may follow.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+CHICK WATSON
+
+
+Now to go back.
+
+In due time we were both of us graduated from college. I went into the
+law and Hobart into engineering. We were both successful. There was
+not a thing to foreshadow that either of us was to be jerked from his
+profession. There was no adventure, but lots of work and reward in
+proportion.
+
+Perhaps I was a bit more fortunate. I was in love and Hobart was still
+a confirmed bachelor. It was a subject over which he was never done
+joking. It was not my fault. I was innocent. If the blame ran anywhere
+it would have to be placed upon that baby sister of his.
+
+It happened as it happened since God first made the maiden. One autumn
+Hobart and I started off for college. We left Charlotte at the gate a
+girl of fifteen years and ten times as many angles. I pulled one of her
+pigtails, kissed her, and told her I wanted her to get pretty. When we
+came home next summer I went over to pull the other pigtail. I did not
+pull it. I was met by the fairest young woman I had ever looked on. And
+I could not kiss her. Seriously, was I to blame?
+
+Now to the incident.
+
+It was a night in September. Hobart had completed his affairs and had
+booked passage to South America. He was to sail next morning. We had
+dinner that day with his family, and then came up to San Francisco for
+a last and farewell bachelor night. We could take in the opera together,
+have supper at our favourite cafe, and then turn in. It was a long hark
+back to our childhood; but for all that we were still boys together.
+
+I remember that night. It was our favourite opera--"Faust." It was the
+one piece that we could agree on. Looking back since, I have wondered at
+the coincidence. The old myth of age to youth and the subcurrent of sin
+with its stalking, laughing, subtle Mephistopheles. It is strange that
+we should have gone to this one opera on this one evening. I recall
+our coming out of the theatre; our minds thrilling to the music and the
+subtle weirdness of the theme.
+
+A fog had fallen--one of those thick, heavy, grey mists that sometimes
+come upon us in September. Into its sombre depths the crowd disappeared
+like shadows. The lights upon the streets blurred yellow. At the cold
+sheer contact we hesitated upon the pavement.
+
+I had on a light overcoat. Hobart, bound for the tropics, had no such
+protection. It was cold and miserable, a chill wind stirring from the
+north was unusually cutting. Hobart raised his collar and dug his hands
+into his pockets.
+
+"Brr," he muttered; "brr, some coffee or some wine. Something."
+
+The sidewalks were wet and slippery, the mists settling under the lights
+had the effect of drizzle. I touched Hobart's arm and we started across
+the street.
+
+"Brr is right," I answered, "and some wine. Notice the shadows, like
+ghosts."
+
+We were half across the street before he answered; then he stopped.
+
+"Ghosts! Did you say ghosts, Harry?" I noted a strange inflection in his
+voice. He stood still and peered into the fog bank. His stop was sudden
+and suggestive. Just then a passing taxicab almost caught us and we
+were compelled to dodge quickly. Hobart ducked out of the way and I
+side-stepped in another direction. We came up on the sidewalk. Again he
+peered into the shadow.
+
+"Confound that cab," he was saying, "now we have gone and missed him."
+
+He took off his hat and then put it back on his head. His favourite
+trick when bewildered. I looked up and down the street.
+
+"Didn't you see him? Harry! Didn't you see him? It was Rhamda Avec!"
+
+I had seen no one; that is to notice; I did not know the Rhamda. Neither
+did he.
+
+"The Rhamda? You don't know him."
+
+Hobart was puzzled.
+
+"No," he said; "I do not; but it was he, just as sure as I am a fat
+man."
+
+I whistled. I recalled the tale that was now a legend. The man had an
+affinity for the fog mist. To come out of "Faust" and to run into the
+Rhamda! What was the connection? For a moment we both stood still and
+waited.
+
+"I wonder--" said Hobart. "I was just thinking about that fellow
+tonight. Strange! Well, let's get something hot--some coffee."
+
+But it had given us something for discussion. Certainly it was unusual.
+During the past few days I had been thinking of Dr. Holcomb; and for the
+last few hours the tale had clung with reiterating persistence. Perhaps
+it was the weirdness and the tremulous intoxication of the music. I was
+one of the vast majority who disbelieved it. Was it possible that it
+was, after all, other than the film of fancy? There are times when we
+are receptive; at that moment I could have believed it.
+
+We entered the cafe and chose a table slightly to the rear. It was
+a contrast to the cold outside; the lights so bright, the glasses
+clinking, laughter and music. A few young people were dancing. I sat
+down; in a moment the lightness and jollity had stirred my blood. Hobart
+took a chair opposite. The place was full of beauty. In the back of my
+mind blurred the image of Rhamda. I had never seen him; but I had read
+the description. I wondered absently at the persistence.
+
+I have said that I do not believe in fate. I repeat it. Man should
+control his own destiny. A great man does. Perhaps that is it. I am not
+great. Certainly it was circumstance.
+
+In the back part of the room at one of the tables was a young man
+sitting alone. Something caught my attention. Perhaps it was his
+listlessness or the dreamy unconcern with which he watched the dancers;
+or it may have been the utter forlornness of his expression. I noted his
+unusual pallor and his cast of dissipation, also the continual working
+of his long, lean fingers. There are certain set fixtures in the night
+life of any city. But this was not one. He was not an habitue. There was
+a certain greatness to his loneliness and his isolation. I wondered.
+
+Just then he looked up. By a mere coincidence our eyes met. He smiled,
+a weak smile and a forlorn one, and it seemed to me rather pitiful. Then
+as suddenly his glance wandered to the door behind me. Perhaps there
+was something in my expression that caught Hobart's attention. He turned
+about.
+
+"Say, Harry, who is that fellow? I know that face, I'm certain."
+
+"Come to think I have seen him myself. I wonder--"
+
+The young man looked up again. The same weary smile. He nodded. And
+again he glanced over my shoulder toward the door. His face suddenly
+hardened.
+
+"He knows us at any rate," I ventured.
+
+Now Hobart was sitting with his face toward the entrance. He could see
+anyone coming or going. Following the young man's glance he looked over
+my shoulder. He suddenly reached over and took me by the forearm.
+
+"Don't look round," he warned; "take it easy. As I said--on my honour as
+a fat man."
+
+The very words foretold. I could not but risk a glance. Across the room
+a man was coming down the aisle--a tall man, dark, and of a very decided
+manner. I had read his description many times; I had seen his likeness
+drawn by certain sketch artists of the city. They did not do him
+justice. He had a wonderful way and presence--you might say, magnetism.
+I noticed the furtive wondering glances that were cast, especially by
+the women. He was a handsome man beyond denying, about the handsomest I
+had ever seen. The same elusiveness.
+
+At first I would have sworn him to be near sixty; the next minute I was
+just as certain of his youth. There was something about him that could
+not be put to paper, be it strength, force or vitality; he was subtle.
+His step was prim and distinctive, light as shadow, in one hand
+he carried the red case that was so often mentioned. I breathed an
+exclamation.
+
+Hobart nodded.
+
+"Am I a fat man? The famous Rhamda! What say! Ah, ha! He has business
+with our wan friend yonder. See!"
+
+And it was so. He took a chair opposite the wan one. The young man
+straightened. His face was even more familiar, but I could not place
+him. His lips were set; in their grim line--determination; whatever his
+exhaustion there was still a will. Somehow one had a respect for this
+weak one; he was not a mere weakling. Yet I was not so sure that he
+was not afraid of the Rhamda. He spoke to the waiter. The Rhamda began
+talking. I noted the poise in his manner; it was not evil, rather was it
+calm--and calculating. He made an indication. The young man drew back.
+He smiled; it was feeble and weary, but for all of that disdainful.
+Though one had a pity for his forlornness, there was still an
+admiration. The waiter brought glasses.
+
+The young man swallowed his drink at a gulp, the other picked his up and
+sipped it. Again he made the indication. The youth dropped his hand upon
+the table, a pale blue light followed the movement of his fingers. The
+older man pointed. So that was their contention? A jewel? After all our
+phantom was material enough to desire possession; his solicitude was
+calmness, but for all that aggression. I could sense a battle, but the
+young man turned the jewel to the palm side of his fingers; he shook his
+head.
+
+The Rhamda drew up. For a moment he waited. Was it for surrender? Once
+he started to speak, but was cut short by the other. For all of his
+weakness there was spirit to the young man. He even laughed. The Rhamda
+drew out a watch. He held up two fingers. I heard Hobart mumble.
+
+"Two minutes. Well, I'm betting on the young one. Too much soul. He's
+not dead; just weary."
+
+He was right. At exactly one hundred and twenty seconds the Rhamda
+closed his watch. He spoke something. Again the young man laughed.
+He lit a cigarette; from the flicker and jerk of the flame he was
+trembling. But he was still emphatic. The other rose from the table,
+walked down the aisle and out of the building. The youth spread out both
+arms and dropped his head upon the table.
+
+It was a little drama enacted almost in silence. Hobart and I exchanged
+glances. The mere glimpse of the Rhamda had brought us both back to the
+Blind Spot. Was there any connection? Who was the young man with the
+life sapped out? I had a recollection of a face strangely familiar.
+Hobart interrupted my thoughts.
+
+"I'd give just about one leg for the gist of that conversation. That was
+the Rhamda; but who is the other ghost?"
+
+"Do you think it has to do with the Blind Spot?"
+
+"I don't think," averred Hobart. "I know. Wonder what's the time." He
+glanced at his watch. "Eleven thirty."
+
+Just here the young man at the table raised up his head. The cigarette
+was still between his fingers; he puffed lamely for a minute, taking a
+dull note of his surroundings. In the well of gaiety and laughter coming
+from all parts of the room his actions were out of place. He seemed
+dazed; unable to pull himself together. Suddenly he looked at us. He
+started.
+
+"He certainly knows us," I said. "I wonder--by George, he's coming
+over."
+
+Even his step was feeble. There was exertion about every move of his
+body, the wanness and effort of vanished vitality; he balanced himself
+carefully. Slowly, slowly, line by line his features became familiar,
+the underlines of another, the ghost of one departed. At first I could
+not place him. He held himself up for breath. Who was he? Then it
+suddenly came to me--back to the old days at college--an athlete, one of
+the best of fellows, one of the sturdiest of men! He had come to this!
+
+Hobart was before me.
+
+"By all the things that are holy!" he exclaimed. "Chick Watson! Here,
+have a seat. In the name of Heavens, Chick! What on earth--"
+
+The other dropped feebly into the chair. The body that had once been so
+powerful was a skeleton. His coat was a disguise of padding.
+
+"Hello, Hobart; hello, Harry," he spoke in a whisper. "Not much like the
+old Chick, am I? First thing, I'll take some brandy."
+
+It was almost tragic. I glanced at Hobart and nodded to the waiter.
+Could it be Chick Watson? I had seen him a year before, hale, healthy,
+prosperous. And here he was--a wreck!
+
+"No," he muttered, "I'm not sick--not sick. Lord, boys, it's good to
+meet you. I just thought I would come out for this one last night, hear
+some music, see a pretty face, perhaps meet a friend. But I am afraid--"
+He dropped off like one suddenly drifting into slumber.
+
+"Hustle that waiter," I said to Hobart. "Hurry that brandy."
+
+The stimulant seemed to revive him. He lifted up suddenly. There was
+fear in his eyes; then on seeing himself among friends--relief. He
+turned to me.
+
+"Think I'm sick, don't you?" he asked.
+
+"You certainly are," I answered.
+
+"Well, I'm not."
+
+For a moment silence. I glanced at Hobart. Hobart nodded.
+
+"You're just about in line for a doctor, Chick, old boy," I said. "I'm
+going to see that you have one. Bed for you, and the care of mother--"
+
+He started; he seemed to jerk himself together.
+
+"That's it, Harry; that's what I wanted. It's so hard for me to think.
+Mother, mother! That's why I came downtown. I wanted a friend. I have
+something for you to give to mother."
+
+"Rats," I said. "I'll take you to her. What are you talking about?"
+
+But he shook his head.
+
+"I wish that you were telling the truth, Harry. But it's no use--not
+after tonight. All the doctors in the world could not save me. I'm not
+sick, boys, far from it."
+
+Hobart spoke up.
+
+"What is it, Chick? I have a suspicion. Am I right?"
+
+Chick looked up; he closed his eyes.
+
+"All right, Hobart, what's your suspicion?"
+
+Fenton leaned over. It seemed to me that he was peering into the other's
+soul. He touched his forearm.
+
+"Chick, old boy, I think I know. But tell me. Am I right? It's the Blind
+Spot."
+
+At the words Watson opened his eyes; they were full of hope and wonder,
+for a moment, and then, as suddenly of a great despair. His body went to
+a heap. His voice was feeble.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "I am dying--of the Blind Spot"
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE RING
+
+
+It was a terrible thing; death stalking out of the Blind Spot. We had
+almost forgotten. It had been a story hitherto--a wonderful one to be
+sure, and one to arouse conjecture. I had never thought that we were to
+be brought to its shivering contact. It was out of the occult; it had
+been so pronounced by the professor; a great secret of life holding out
+a guerdon of death to its votaries. Witness Chick Watson, the type of
+healthy, fighting manhood--come to this. He opened his eyes feebly; one
+could see the light; the old spirit was there--fighting for life. What
+was this struggle of soul and flesh? Why had the soul hung on? He made
+another effort.
+
+"More drink," he asked; "more drink. Anything to hold me together. I
+must tell you. You must take my place and--and--fight the Blind Spot!
+Promise that--"
+
+"Order the drinks," I told Hobart. "I see Dr. Hansen over there. Even if
+we cannot save him we must hold him until we get his story."
+
+I went and fetched Hansen over.
+
+"A strange case," he murmured. "Pulse normal; not a trace of fever. Not
+sick, you say--" Hobart pointed to his head. "Ah, I see! I would suggest
+home and a bed."
+
+Just here Watson opened his eyes again. They rested first upon the
+doctor, then upon myself, and finally upon the brandy. He took it up and
+drank it with eagerness. It was his third one; it gave him a bit more
+life.
+
+"Didn't I tell you, boys, that there is not a doctor on earth that
+can save me? Excuse me, doc. I am not sick. I told them. I am far past
+physic; I have gone beyond medicine. All I ask is stimulant and life
+enough to tell my story."
+
+"My boy," asked the doctor kindly, "what ails you?"
+
+Watson smiled. He touched himself on the forehead.
+
+"Up here, doc. There are things in the world with which we may not
+tamper. I tried it. Somebody had to do it and somebody has to do it yet.
+You remember Dr. Holcomb; he was a great man; he was after the secret of
+life. He began it."
+
+Dr. Hansen started.
+
+"Lord!" he exclaimed, looking at us all; "you don't mean this man is
+mixed up in the Blind Spot?"
+
+We nodded. Watson smiled; again he dropped back into inertia; the speech
+he had made was his longest yet; the brandy was coming into effect.
+
+"Give him brandy," the doctor said; "it's as good as anything. It will
+hold him together and give him life for a while. Here." He reached into
+his pocket and flicked something into the glass. "That will help him.
+Gentlemen, do you know what it means? I had always thought! I knew Dr.
+Holcomb! Crossing over the border! It may not be done! The secret of
+life is impossible. Yet--"
+
+Watson opened his eyes again; his spirit seemed suddenly to flicker into
+defiance.
+
+"Who said it was impossible? Who said it? Gentlemen, it IS possible. Dr.
+Holcomb--pardon me. I do not wish to appear a sot; but this brandy is
+about the only thing to hold me together. I have only a few hours left."
+
+He took the glass, and at one gulp downed the contents. I do not know
+what the doctor had dropped into it. Chick revived suddenly, and a
+strange light blazed up in his eyes, like life rekindled.
+
+"Ah, now I am better. So?"
+
+He turned to us all; then to the doctor.
+
+"So you say the secret of life is impossible?"
+
+"I--"
+
+Chick smiled wanly. "May I ask you: what it is that has just flared up
+within me? I am weak, anaemic, fallen to pieces; my muscles have lost
+the power to function, my blood runs cold, I have been more than two
+feet over the border. And yet--a few drinks of brandy, of stimulants,
+and you have drawn me back, my heart beats strongly, for an hour. By
+means of drugs you have infused a new life--which of course is the
+old--and driven the material components of my body into correlation. You
+are successful for a time; so long as nature is with you; but all the
+while you are held aghast by the knowledge that the least flaw, the
+least disarrangement, and you are beaten.
+
+"It is your business to hold this life or what you may. When it has
+gone your structures, your anatomy, your wonderful human machine is
+worthless. Where has it come from? Where has it gone? I have drunk four
+glasses of brandy; I have a lease of four short hours. Ordinarily it
+would bring reaction; it is poison, to be sure; but it is driving back
+my spirit, giving me life and strength enough to tell my story--in the
+morning I shall be no more. By sequence I am a dead man already. Four
+glasses of brandy; they are speaking. Whence comes this affinity of
+substance and of shadow?"
+
+We all of us listened, the doctor most of all. "Go on," he said.
+
+"Can't you see?" repeated Watson. "There is affinity between substance
+and shadow; and therefore your spirit or shadow or what you will is
+concrete, is in itself a substance. It is material just as much as you
+are. Because you do not see it is no proof that it is not substance.
+That pot palm yonder does not see you; it is not blessed with eyes."
+
+The doctor looked at Watson; he spoke gently.
+
+"This is very old stuff, my boy, out of your abstract philosophy. No man
+knows the secret of life. Not even yourself."
+
+The light in Watson's eyes grew brighter, he straightened; he began
+slipping the ring from his finger.
+
+"No," he answered. "I don't. I have tried and it was like playing with
+lightning. I sought for life and it is giving me death. But there is one
+man living who has found it."
+
+"And this man?"
+
+"Is Dr. Holcomb!"
+
+We all of us started. We had every one given the doctor up as dead. The
+very presence of Watson was tragedy. We did not doubt that he had been
+through some terrible experience. There are things in the world that may
+not be unriddled. Some power, some sinister thing was reaching for his
+vitality. What did he know about the professor? Dr. Holcomb had been a
+long time dead.
+
+"Gentlemen. You must hear my story; I haven't long to tell it. However,
+before I start here is a proof for a beginning."
+
+He tossed the ring upon the table.
+
+It was Hobart who picked it up. A beautiful stone, like a sapphire; blue
+but uncut and of a strange pellucid transparency--a jewel undoubtedly;
+but of a kind we have never seen. We all of us examined it, and were
+all, I am afraid, a bit disappointed. It was a stone and nothing else.
+
+Watson watched us. The waiter had brought more brandy, and Watson was
+sipping it, not because he liked it, he said, but just to keep himself
+at the proper lift.
+
+"You don't understand it, eh? You see nothing? Hobart, have you a match?
+There, that's it; now give me the ring. See--" He struck the match and
+held the flame against the jewel. "Gentlemen, there is no need for me
+to speak. The stone will give you a volume. It's not trickery, I assure
+you, but fact. There, now, perfect. Doctor, you are the sceptic. Take a
+look at the stone."
+
+The doctor picked it up casually and held it up before his eyes. At
+first he frowned; then came a look of incredulity; his chin dropped and
+he rose in his chair.
+
+"My God," he exclaimed, "the man's living! It--he--"
+
+But Hobart and I had crowded over. The doctor held the ring so we could
+see it. Inside the stone was Dr. Holcomb!
+
+It was a strenuous moment, and the most incredible. We all of us
+knew the doctor. It was not a photograph, nor a likeness; but the man
+himself. It was beyond all reason that he could be in the jewel; indeed
+there was only the head visible; one could catch the expression of life,
+the movements of the eyelids. Yet how could it be? What was it? It was
+Hobart who spoke first.
+
+"Chick," he asked, "what's the meaning? Were it not for my own eyes I
+would call it impossible. It's absurd on the face. The doctor! Yet I can
+see him--living. Where is he?"
+
+Chick nodded.
+
+"That's the whole question. Where is he? I know and yet I know nothing.
+You are now looking into the Blind Spot. The doctor sought the secret of
+life--and found it. He was trapped by his own wisdom!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE NERVINA
+
+
+For a moment we were silent. The jewel reposed upon the table. What was
+the secret of its phenomena? I could think of nothing in science that
+would explain it. How had Watson come into its possession? What was the
+tale he had to tell? The lean, long finger that clutched for brandy!
+What force was this that had driven him to such a verge? He was
+resigned; though he was defiant he had already conceded his surrender.
+Dr. Hansen spoke.
+
+"Watson," he asked, "what do you know about the Blind Spot?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+We all turned to Chick. Hobart ordered more brandy. The doctor's eyes
+went to slits. I could not but wonder.
+
+"Chick," I asked, "who is Rhamda Avec?"
+
+Watson turned.
+
+"You saw him a few minutes ago? You saw him with me? Let me ask you."
+
+"Yes," I answered, "I saw him. Most people did. Is he invisible? Is he
+really the phantom they say?"
+
+Somehow the mention of the name made him nervous; he looked cautiously
+about the room.
+
+"That I don't know, Harry. It--If I can only get my wits together. Is he
+a phantom? Yes, I think so. I can't understand him. At least, he has the
+powers we attribute to an apparition. He is strange and unaccountable.
+Sometimes you see him, sometimes you don't. The first known of him was
+on the day Professor Holcomb was to deliver his lecture on the Blind
+Spot. He was tracked, you know, to the very act. Then came in the
+Nervina."
+
+"And who is the Nervina?"
+
+Watson looked at me blankly.
+
+"The Nervina?" he asked, "The Nervina--what do you know about the
+Nervina?"
+
+"Nothing. You mentioned her just now."
+
+His mind seemed to ramble. He looked about the room rather fearfully.
+Perhaps he was afraid.
+
+"Did I mention her? I don't know, Harry, my wits are muddled. The
+Nervina? She is a goddess. Never was and never will be woman. She loves;
+she never hates, and still again she does not love. She is beautiful;
+too beautiful for man. I've quit trying."
+
+"Is she Rhamda's wife?"
+
+His eyes lit fire.
+
+"No!"
+
+"Do you love her?"
+
+He went blank again; but at last he spoke slowly.
+
+"No, I don't love her. What's the use? She's not for me. I did; but I
+learned better. I was after the professor--and the Blind Spot. She--"
+
+Again that look of haunted pursuit. He glanced about the room. Whatever
+had been his experience, it was plain that he had not given up. He held
+something and he held it still. What was it?
+
+"You say you didn't find the Blind Spot?"
+
+"No, I did not find it."
+
+"Have you any idea?"
+
+"My dear Harry," he answered, "I am full of ideas. That's the trouble.
+I am near it. It's the cause of my present condition. I don't know just
+what it is nor where. A condition, or a combination of phenomena. You
+remember the lecture that was never delivered? Had the doctor spoken
+that morning the world would have had a great fact. He had made a great
+discovery. It is a terrible thing." He turned the ring so we could all
+see it--beyond all doubt it was the doctor. "There he is--the professor.
+If he could only speak. The secret of the ages. Just think what it
+means. Where is he? I have taken that jewel to the greatest lapidaries
+and they have one and all been startled. Then they all come to the same
+conclusion--trickery--Chinese or Hindu work, they say; most of them want
+to cut."
+
+"Have you taken it to the police?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I would simply be laughed at."
+
+"Have you ever reported this Rhamda?"
+
+"A score of times. They have come and sought; but every time he has gone
+out--like a shadow. It's got to be an old story now. If you call them up
+and tell them they laugh."
+
+"How do you account for it?"
+
+"I don't. I--I--I'm just dying."
+
+"And not one member of the force--surely?"
+
+"Oh, yes. There's one. You have heard of Jerome. Jerome followed the
+professor and the Rhamda to the house of the Blind Spot, as he calls it.
+He's not a man to fool. He had eyes and he saw it. He will not leave it
+till he's dead."
+
+"But he did not see the Blind Spot, did he? How about trickery? Did it
+ever occur to you that the professor might have been murdered?"
+
+"Take a look at that, Harry. Does that look like murder? When you see
+the man living?"
+
+Watson reached over and turned up the jewel.
+
+Here Hobart came in.
+
+"Just a minute, Chick. My wise friend here is an attorney. He's always
+the first into everything, especially conversation. It's been my job
+pulling Harry out of trouble. Just one question."
+
+"All right."
+
+"Didn't you--er--keep company, as they say, with Bertha Holcomb while at
+college?"
+
+A kind look came into the man's eyes; he nodded; his whole face was soft
+and saddened.
+
+"I see. That naturally brought you to the Blind Spot. You are after her
+father. Am I correct?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"All right. Perhaps Bertha has taken you into some of her father's
+secrets. He undoubtedly had data on this Blind Spot. Have you ever been
+able to locate it?"
+
+"No!"
+
+"I see. This Rhamda? Has he ever sought that data?"
+
+"Many, many times."
+
+"Does he know you haven't got it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"So. I understand. You hold the whip hand through your ignorance. Rhamda
+is your villain--and perhaps this Nervina? Who is she?"
+
+"A goddess."
+
+Hobart smiled.
+
+"Oh, yes!" He laughed. "A goddess. Naturally! They all are. There are
+about forty in this room at the present moment, my dear fellow. Watch
+them dance!"
+
+Now I had picked up the ring. It just fitted the natural finger. I tried
+it on and looked into the jewel. The professor was growing dimmer. The
+marvellous blue was returning, a hue of fascination; not the hot flash
+of the diamond, but the frozen light of the iceberg. It was frigid,
+cold, terrible, blue, alluring. To me at the moment it seemed alive and
+pulselike. I could not account for it. I felt the lust for possession.
+Perhaps there was something in my face. Watson leaned over and touched
+me on the arm.
+
+"Harry," he asked, "do you think you can stand up under the burden? Will
+you take my place?"
+
+I looked into his eyes; in their black depths was almost entreaty. How
+haunting they were, and beseeching.
+
+"Will you take my place?" he begged. "Are you willing to give up all
+that God gives to the fortunate? Will you give up your practice? Will
+you hold out to the end? Never surrender? Will--"
+
+"You mean will I take this ring?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Exactly. But you must know beforehand. It would be murder to give it to
+you without the warning. Either your death or that of Dr. Holcomb. It is
+not a simple jewel. It defies description. It takes a man to wear it.
+It is subtle and of destruction; it eats like a canker; it destroys the
+body; it frightens the soul--"
+
+"An ominous piece of finery," I spoke. "Wherein--"
+
+But Watson interrupted. There was appeal in his eyes.
+
+"Harry," he went on, "I am asking. Somebody has got to wear this ring.
+He must be a man. He must be fearless; he must taunt the devil. It is
+hard work, I assure you. I cannot last much longer. You loved the old
+doctor. If we get at this law we have done more for mankind than either
+of us may do with his profession. We must save the old professor. He
+is living and he is waiting. There are perils and forces that we do not
+know of. The doctor went at it alone and fearless; he succumbed to his
+own wisdom. I have followed after, and I have been crushed down--perhaps
+by my ignorance. I am not afraid. But I don't want my work to die.
+Somebody has got to take it on and you are the man."
+
+They were all of them looking at me. I studied the wonderful blue
+and its light. The image of the great professor had dimmed almost
+completely. It was a sudden task and a great one. Here was a law; one of
+the great secrets of Cosmos. What was it? Somehow the lure caught into
+my vitals. I couldn't picture myself ever coming to the extremity of
+my companion. Besides, it was a duty. I owed it to the old doctor. It
+seemed somehow that he was speaking. Though Watson did the talking I
+could feel him calling. Would I be afraid? Besides, there was the jewel.
+It was calling; already I could feel it burning into my spirit. I looked
+up.
+
+"Do you take it, Harry?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+"I do. God knows I am worthless enough. I'll take it up. It may give me
+a chance to engage with this famous Rhamda."
+
+"Be careful of Rhamda, Harry. And above all don't let him have the
+ring."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because. Now listen. I'm not laying this absolutely, understand.
+Nevertheless the facts all point in one direction. Hold the ring.
+Somewhere in that lustre lies a great secret; it controls the Blind
+Spot. The Rhamda himself may not take it off your finger. You are immune
+from violence. Only the ring itself may kill you."
+
+He coughed.
+
+"God knows," he spoke, "it has killed me."
+
+It was rather ominous. The mere fact of that cough and his weakness was
+enough. One would come to this. He had warned me, and he had besought me
+with the same voice as the warning.
+
+"But what is the Blind Spot?"
+
+"Then you take the ring? What is the time? Twelve. Gentlemen--"
+
+Now here comes in one of the strange parts of my story--one that I
+cannot account for. Over the shoulder of Dr. Hansen I could watch the
+door. Whether it was the ring or not I do not know. At the time I did
+not reason. I acted upon impulse. It was an act beyond good breeding. I
+had never done such a thing before. I had never even seen the woman.
+
+The woman? Why do I say it? She was never a woman--she was a girl--far,
+far transcendent. It was the first time I had ever seen her--standing
+there before the door. I had never beheld such beauty, such profile,
+poise--the witching, laughing, night-black of her eyes; the perfectly
+bridged nose and the red, red lips that smiled, it seemed to me, in
+sadness. She hesitated, and as if puzzled, lifted a jewelled hand to
+her raven mass of hair. To this minute I cannot account for my action,
+unless, perchance, it was the ring. Perhaps it was. Anyway I had risen.
+
+How well do I remember.
+
+It seemed to me that I had known her a long, long time. There was
+something about her that was not seduction; but far, far above it.
+Somewhere I had seen her, had known her. She was looking and she was
+waiting for me. There was something about her that was super feminine. I
+thought it then, and I say it now.
+
+Just then her glance came my way. She smiled, and nodded; there was a
+note of sadness in her voice.
+
+"Harry Wendel!"
+
+There is no accounting for my action, nor my wonder; she knew me. Then
+it was true! I was not mistaken! Somewhere I had seen her. I felt a
+vague and dim rush of dreamy recollections. Ah, that was the answer! She
+was a girl of dreams and phantoms. Even then I knew it; she was not
+a woman; not as we conceive her; she was some materialisation out of
+Heaven. Why do I talk so? Ah! this strange beauty that is woman! From
+the very first she held me in the thrall that has no explanation.
+
+"Do we dance?" she asked simply.
+
+The next moment I had her in my arms and we were out among the dancers.
+That my actions were queer and entirely out of reason never occurred
+to me. There was a call about her beautiful body and in her eyes that
+I could not answer. There was a fact between us, some strange bond
+that was beyond even passion. I danced, and in an extreme emotion of
+happiness. A girl out of the dreams and the ether--a sprig of life woven
+out of the moonbeams!
+
+"Do you know me?" she asked as we danced.
+
+"Yes," I answered, "and no. I have seen you; but I do not remember; you
+come from the sunshine."
+
+She laughed prettily.
+
+"Do you always talk like this?"
+
+"You are out of my dreams," I answered: "it is sufficient. But who are
+you?"
+
+She held back her pretty head and looked at me; her lips drooped
+slightly at the corners, a sad smile, and tender, in the soft wonderful
+depths of her eyes--a pity.
+
+"Harry," she asked, "are you going to wear this ring?"
+
+So that was it. The ring and the maiden. What was the bond? There was
+weirdness in its colour, almost cabalistic--a call out of the occult.
+The strange beauty of the girl, her remarkable presence, and her
+concern. Whoever and whatever she was her anxiety was not personal. In
+some way she was woven up with this ring and poor Watson.
+
+"I think I shall," I answered.
+
+Again the strange querulous pity and hesitation; her eyes grew darker,
+almost pleading.
+
+"You won't give it to me?"
+
+How near I came to doing it I shall not tell. It would be hard to say
+it. I knew vaguely that she was playing; that I was the plaything. It is
+hard for a man to think of himself as being toyed with. She was certain;
+she was confident of my weakness. It was resentment, perhaps, and pride
+of self that gave the answer.
+
+"I think I shall keep it."
+
+"Do you know the danger, Harry? It is death to wear it. A thousand
+perils--"
+
+"Then I shall keep it. I like peril. You wish for the ring. If I keep it
+I may have you. This is the first time I have danced with the girl out
+of the moonbeams."
+
+Her eyes snapped, and she stopped dancing. I don't think my words
+displeased her. She was still a woman.
+
+"Is this final? You're a fine young man, Mr. Wendel. I know you. I
+stepped in to save you. You are playing with something stranger than the
+moonbeams. No man may wear that ring and hold to life. Again, Harry, I
+ask you; for your own sake."
+
+At this moment we passed Watson. He was watching; as our eyes glanced
+he shook his head. Who was this girl? She was as beautiful as sin and as
+tender as a virgin. What interest had she in myself?
+
+"That's just the reason," I laughed. "You are too interested. You are
+too beautiful to wear it. I am a man; I revel in trouble; you are a
+girl. It would not be honourable to allow you to take it. I shall keep
+it."
+
+She had overreached herself, and she knew it. She bit her lip. But she
+took it gracefully; so much so, in fact, that I thought she meant it.
+
+"I'm sorry," she answered slowly. "I had hopes. It is terrible to look
+at Watson and then to think of you. It is, really"--a faint tremor ran
+through her body; her hand trembled--"it is terrible. You young men are
+so unafraid. It's too bad."
+
+Just then the door was opened; outside I could see the bank of fog;
+someone passed. She turned a bit pale.
+
+"Excuse me. I must be going. Don't you see I'm sorry--"
+
+She held out her hand--the same sad little smile. On the impulse of the
+moment, unmindful of place, I drew it to my lips and kissed it. She was
+gone.
+
+I returned to the table. The three men were watching me: Watson
+analytically, the doctor with wonder, and Hobart with plain disgust.
+Hobart spoke first.
+
+"Nice for sister Charlotte, eh, Harry?"
+
+I had not a word to say. In the full rush of the moment I knew that he
+was right. It was all out of reason. I had no excuse outside of sheer
+insanity--and dishonour. The doctor said nothing. It was only in
+Watson's face that there was a bit of understanding.
+
+"Hobart," he said, "I have told you. It is not Harry's fault. It is the
+Nervina. No man may resist her. She is beauty incarnate; she weaves
+with the hearts of men, and she loves no one. It is the ring. She, the
+Rhamda, the Blind Spot, and the ring. I have never been able to unravel
+them. Please don't blame Harry. He went to her even as I. She has but
+to beckon. But he kept the ring. I watched them. This is but the
+beginning."
+
+But Hobart muttered: "She's a beauty all right--a beauty. That's the
+rub. I know Harry--I know him as a brother, and I want him so in fact.
+But I'd hate to trust that woman."
+
+Watson smiled.
+
+"Never fear, Hobart, your sister is safe enough. The Nervina is not a
+woman. She is not of the flesh."
+
+"Brr," said the doctor, "you give me the creeps."
+
+Watson reached for the brandy; he nodded to the doctor.
+
+"Just a bit more of that stuff if you please. Whatever it is, on the
+last night one has no fear of habit. There--Now, gentlemen, if you will
+come with me, I shall take you to the house of the Blind Spot."
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+"NOW THERE ARE THREE"
+
+
+I shall never forget that night. When we stepped to the pavement the
+whole world was shrouded. The heavy fog clung like depression; life
+was gone out--a foreboding of gloom and disaster. It was cold, dank,
+miserable; one shuddered instinctively and battered against the wall
+with steaming columns of breath. Just outside the door we were detained.
+
+"Dr. Hansen?"
+
+Someone stepped beside us.
+
+"Dr. Hansen?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"A message, sir."
+
+The doctor made a gesture of impatience.
+
+"Bother!" he spoke. "Bother! A message. Nothing in the world would stop
+me! I cannot leave."
+
+Nevertheless he stepped back into the light.
+
+"Just a minute, gentlemen."
+
+He tore open the envelope. Then he looked up at the messenger and then
+at us. His face was startled--almost frightened.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, "I am sorry. Not a thing in the world would detain
+me but this. I would go with you, but I may not. My duty as a physician.
+I had hopes." He came over to me and spoke softly. "I am going to send
+you one of the greatest specialists in the city in my stead. This young
+man should have attention. Have you the address?"
+
+"288 Chatterton Place," I answered.
+
+"Very well. I am sorry, very much disappointed. However, it is
+my daughter, and I cannot do otherwise. Continue the brandy for a
+while--and this." He slipped an envelope into my hand. "By that time Dr.
+Higgins will be with you."
+
+"You think there is hope?" I asked.
+
+"There's always hope," replied the doctor.
+
+I returned to my companions. They were walking slowly. It was work for
+poor Watson. He dragged on, leaning on Hobart's arm. But at last he gave
+up.
+
+"No," he said, "I can't make it. I'm too far gone. I had thought--Oh,
+what a lapse it has been! I am eighty years of age; one year ago I was
+a boy. If only I had some more brandy. I have some at the house. We must
+make that. I must show you; there I can give you the details."
+
+"Hail a cab," I said. "Here's one now."
+
+A few minutes later we were before the House of the Blind Spot. It was a
+two storey drab affair, much like a thousand others, old-fashioned, and
+might have been built in the early nineties. It had been outside of the
+fire limits of 1906, and so had survived the great disaster. Chatterton
+Place is really a short street running lengthwise along the summit of
+the hill. A flight of stone steps descended to the pavement.
+
+Watson straightened up with an effort.
+
+"This is the house," he spoke. "I came here a year ago. I go away
+tonight. I had hoped to find it. I promised Bertha. I came alone. I had
+reasons to believe I had solved it. I found the Rhamda and the Nervina.
+I had iron will and courage--also strength. The Rhamda was never able
+to control me. My life is gone but not my will. Now I have left him
+another. Do not surrender, Harry. It is a gruesome task; but hold on
+to the end. Help me up the steps. There now. Just wait a minute till I
+fetch a stimulant."
+
+He did not ring for a servant. That I noticed. Instead he groped about
+for a key, unlocked the door and stumbled into a room. He fumbled for a
+minute among some glasses.
+
+"Will you switch on a light?" he asked.
+
+Hobart struck a match; when he found it he pressed the switch.
+
+The room in which we were standing was a large one, fairly well
+furnished, and lined on two sides with bookshelves; in the centre was an
+oak table cluttered with papers, a couple of chairs, and on one of them,
+a heavy pipe, which, somehow, I did not think of as Watson's. He noticed
+my look.
+
+"Jerome's," he explained. "We live here--Jerome, the detective, and
+myself. He has been here since the day of the doctor's disappearance. I
+came here a year ago. He is in Nevada at present. That leaves me alone.
+You will notice the books, mostly occult: partly mine, partly the
+detective's. We have gone at it systematically from the beginning.
+We have learned almost everything but what would help us. Mostly
+sophistry--and guesswork. Beats all how much ink has been wasted to say
+nothing. We were after the Blind Spot."
+
+"But what is it? Is it in this house?"
+
+"I can answer one part of your question," he answered, "but not the
+other. It is here somewhere, in some place. Jerome is positive of that.
+You remember the old lady? The one who died? Her actions were rather
+positive even if feeble. She led Jerome to this next room." He turned
+and pointed; the door was open. I could see a sofa and a few chairs;
+that was all.
+
+"It was in here. The bell. Jerome never gets tired of telling. A church
+bell. In the centre of the room. At first I didn't believe; but now I
+accept it all. I know, but what I know is by intuition."
+
+"Sort of sixth sense?'
+
+"Yes. Or foresight."
+
+"You never saw this bell nor found it? Never were able to arrive at an
+explanation?"
+
+"No."
+
+"How about the Rhamda? The Nervina? Do they come to this house?"
+
+"Not often."
+
+"How do they come in? Through the window?"
+
+He smiled rather sadly. "I don't know. At least they come. You shall see
+them yourself. The Rhamda still has something to do with Dr. Holcomb.
+Somehow his very concern tells me the doctor is safe. Undoubtedly
+the professor made a great discovery. But he was not alone. He had
+a co-worker--the Rhamda. For reasons of his own the Rhamda wishes to
+control the Blind Spot."
+
+"Then the professor is in this Blind Spot?"
+
+"We think so. At least it is our conjecture. We do not know."
+
+"Then you don't think it trickery?"
+
+"No, hardly. Harry, you know better than that. Can you imagine the great
+doctor the dupe of a mere trickster? The professor was a man of great
+science and was blessed with an almighty sound head. But he had one
+weakness."
+
+Hobart spoke up.
+
+"What is it, Chick? I think I know what you mean. The old boy was
+honest?"
+
+"Exactly. He had been a scholar all his life. He taught ethics. He
+believed in right. He practised his creed. When he came to the crucial
+experiment he found himself dealing with a rogue. The Rhamda helped him
+just so far; but once he had the professor in his power it was not his
+purpose to release him until he was secure of the Blind Spot."
+
+"I see," I spoke. "The man is a villain. I think we can handle him."
+
+But Watson shook his head.
+
+"That's just it, Harry! The man! If he were a man I could have handled
+him in short order. That's what I thought at first. Don't make any
+mistake. Don't try violence. That's the whole crux of the difficulty. If
+he were only a man! Unfortunately, he is not."
+
+"Not a man!" I exclaimed. "What do you mean? Then, what is he?"
+
+"He is a phantom."
+
+I glanced at Hobart and caught his eye. Hobart believed him! The poor
+pallid face of Watson, the athlete; there was nothing left to him but
+his soul! I shall not forget Watson as he sat there, his lean, long
+fingers grasping the brandy glass, his eyes burning and his life holding
+back from the pit through sheer will and courage. Would I come to this?
+Would I have the strength to measure up to his standard?
+
+Hobart broke the tension.
+
+"Chick's right. There is something in it, Harry. Not all the secrets of
+the universe have been unlocked by any means. Now, Chick, about details.
+Have you any data--any notes?"
+
+Watson rose. I could see he was grateful.
+
+"You believe me, don't you, Hobart? It is good. I had hoped to find
+someone, and I found you two. Harry, remember what I have told you. Hold
+the ring. You take my place. Whatever happens, stick out to the end. You
+have Hobart here to help you. Now just a minute. The library is here;
+you can look over my books. I shall return in a moment."
+
+He stepped out into the hall; we could hear his weary feet dragging down
+the hallway--a hollow sound and a bit uncanny. Somehow my mind rambled
+back to that account I had read in the newspaper--Jerome's story--"Like
+weary bones dragging slippers." And the old lady. Who was she? Why was
+everyone in this house pulled down to exhaustion--the words of the
+old lady, I could almost hear them; the dank air murmuring their
+recollection. "Now there are two. Now there are two!"
+
+"What's the matter, Harry?"
+
+Perhaps I was frightened. I do not know. I looked around. The sound of
+Watson's footsteps had died away; there was a light in the back of the
+building coming toward us.
+
+"Nothing! Only--damn this place, Hobart. Don't you notice it? It's
+enough to eat your heart out."
+
+"Rather interesting," said Hobart. It was too interesting for me. I
+stepped over to the shelves and looked at the titles. Sanskrit and
+Greek; German and French--the Vedas, Sir Oliver Lodge, Besant, Spinoza,
+a conglomeration of all ages and tongues; a range of metaphysics that
+was as wide as Babel, and about as enlightening. As Babel? Over my
+shoulders came the strangest sound of all, weak, piping, tremulous,
+fearful--"Now there are two. Now there are two." My heart gave a fearful
+leap. "Soon there will be three! Soon--"
+
+I turned suddenly about. I had a fearful thought. I looked at Hobart.
+A strange, insidious fear clutched at me. Was the thought intrinsic? If
+not, where had it come from? Three? I strained my ears to hear Watson's
+footsteps. He was in the back part of the building. I must have some
+air.
+
+"I'm going to open the door, Hobart," I spoke. "The front door, and look
+out into the street."
+
+"Don't blame you much. Feel a bit that way myself. About time for Dr.
+Higgins. Here comes Chick again. Take a look outside and see if the doc
+is coming."
+
+I opened the door and looked out into the dripping fog bank. What a pair
+of fools we were! We both knew it, and we were both seeking an excuse.
+In the next room through the curtains I could see the weak form of
+Watson; he was bearing a light.
+
+Suddenly the light went out.
+
+I was at high tension; the mere fact of the light was nothing, but it
+meant a world at that moment--a strange sound--a struggle--then the
+words of Watson--Chick Watson's:
+
+"Harry! Harry! Hobart! Harry! Come here! It's the Blind Spot!"
+
+It was in the next room. The despair of that call is unforgettable, like
+that of one suddenly falling into space. Then the light dropped to the
+floor. I could see the outlines of his figure and a weird, single string
+of incandescence. Hobart turned and I leaped. It was a blur, the form
+of a man melting into nothing. I sprang into the room, tearing down the
+curtains. Hobart was on top of me. But we were too late. I could
+feel the vibrancy of something uncanny as I rushed across the space
+intervening. Through my mind darted the thrill of terror. It had come
+suddenly, and in climax. It was over before it had commenced. The light
+had gone out. Only by the gleam from the other room could we make out
+each others' faces. The air was vibrant, magnetic. There was no Watson.
+But we could hear his voice. Dim and fearful, coming down the corridors
+of time.
+
+"Hold that ring, Harry! Hold that ring!" Then the faint despair out of
+the weary distance, faint, but a whole volume:
+
+"The Blind Spot!"
+
+It was over as quickly as that. The whole thing climaxed into an
+instant. It is difficult to describe. One cannot always analyse
+sensations. Mine, I am afraid, were muddled. A thousand insistent
+thoughts clashed through my brain. Horror, wonder, doubt! I have only
+one persistent and predominating recollection. The old lady! I could
+almost feel her coming out of the shadows. There was sadness and pity;
+out of the stillness and the corners. What had been the dirge of her
+sorrow?
+
+"NOW THERE ARE THREE!"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+MAN OR PHANTOM
+
+
+It was Hobart who came to first. His voice was good to hear. It
+was natural; it was sweet and human, but it was pregnant with
+disappointment: "We are fools, Harry; we are fools!"
+
+But I could only stare. I remember saying: "The Blind Spot?"
+
+"Yes," returned Hobart, "the Blind Spot. But what is it? We saw him go.
+Did you see it?"
+
+"It gets me," I answered. "He just vanished into space. It--" Frankly I
+was afraid.
+
+"It tallies well with the reports. The old lady and Jerome. Remember?"
+
+"And the bell?" I looked about the room.
+
+"Exactly. Phenomena! Watson was right. I just wonder--but the bell?
+Remember the doctor? 'The greatest day since Columbus.' No, don't cross
+the room, Harry, I'm a bit leery: A great discovery! I should say it
+was. How do you account for it?"
+
+"Supernatural."
+
+Fenton shook his head.
+
+"By no means! It's the gateway to the universe--into Cosmos." His eyes
+sparkled. "My Lord, Harry! Don't you see! Once we control it. The Blind
+Spot! What is beyond? We saw Chick Watson go. Before our eyes. Where did
+he go to? It beats death itself."
+
+I started across the room, but Hobart caught me with both arms: "No, no,
+no, Harry. My Lord! I don't want to lose you. No! You foolhardly little
+cuss--stand back!"
+
+He threw me violently against the wall. The impact quite took my breath.
+
+On the instant the old rush of temper surged up in me. From boyhood we
+had these moments. Hobart settled himself and awaited the rush that he
+knew was coming. In his great, calm, brute strength there was still a
+greatness of love.
+
+"Harry," he was saying, "for the love of Heaven, listen to reason! Have
+we got to have a knock-down and drag-out on this of all nights? Have I
+got to lick you again? Do you want to roll into the Blind Spot?"
+
+Why did God curse me with such a temper? On such moments as this I could
+feel something within me snapping. It was fury and unreason. How I loved
+him! And yet we had fought a thousand times over just such provocation.
+Over his shoulders I could see the still open door that led into the
+street. A heavy form was looming through the opening; out of the corner
+of my eye I caught the lines of the form stepping out of the shadows--it
+crossed the room and stood beside Hobart Fenton. It was Rhamda Avec!
+
+I leaped. The fury of a thousand conflicts--and the exultation. For the
+glory of such moments it is well worth dying. One minute flying through
+the air--the old catapult tackle--and the next a crashing of bone
+and sinew. We rolled over, head on, and across the floor. Curses and
+execrations; the deep bass voice of Hobart:
+
+"Hold him, Harry! Hold him! That's the way! Hold him! Hold him!"
+
+We went crashing about the room. He was the slipperiest thing I had ever
+laid hold of. But he was bone--bone and sinew; he was a man! I remember
+the wild thrill of exultation at the discovery. It was battle! And
+death! The table went over, we went spinning against the wall, a crash
+of falling bookcases, books and broken glass, a scurry and a flying heap
+of legs and arms. He was wonderfully strong and active, like a panther.
+Each time I held him he would twist out like a cat, straighten, and
+throw me out of hold. I clung on, fighting, striving for a grip, working
+for the throat. He was a man--a man! I remembered that he must never get
+away. He must account for Watson.
+
+In the first rush I was a madman. The mere force of my onslaught had
+borne him down. But in a moment he had recovered and was fighting
+systematically. As much as he could he kept over on one side of me,
+always forcing me toward the inner room where Watson had disappeared. In
+spite of my fury he eluded every effort that I made for a vital part. We
+rolled, fought, struck and struggled.
+
+I could hear Hobart's bass thundering: "Over! Over! Under! Look out! Now
+you've got him! Harry! Harry! Look out! Hold him, for the love of Heaven
+I see his trick. That's his trick. The Blind Spot!"
+
+We were rolled clear over, picked, heaved, shoved against the front
+wall. There were three! The great heaving bulk of Fenton; the fighting
+tiger between us; and myself! Surely such strength was not human; we
+could not pin him; his quickness was uncanny; he would uncoil, twist
+himself and throw us loose. Gradually he worked us away from the front
+wall and into the centre of the room.
+
+Could any mere man fight so? Hobart was as good as a ton; I was as much
+for action. Slowly, slowly in spite of our efforts, he was working us
+towards the Blind Spot. Confident of success, he was over, around, and
+in and under. In a spin of a second he went into the attack. He fairly
+bore us off our feet. We were on the last inch of our line; the stake
+was--
+
+What was it? We all went down. A great volume of sound! We were inside
+a bell! My whole head buzzed to music and a roar; the whir of a thousand
+vibrations; the inside of sound. I fell face downwards; the room went
+black.
+
+What was it? How long I lay there I don't know. A dim light was burning.
+I was in a room. The ceiling overhead was worked in a grotesque pattern;
+I could not make it out. My clothes were in tatters and my hand was
+covered with blood. Something warm was trickling down my face. What was
+it? The air was still and sodden. Who was this man beside me? And what
+was this smell of roses?
+
+I lay still for a minute, thinking. Ah, yes! It came back. Watson--Chick
+Watson! The Blind Spot! The Rhamda and the bell!
+
+Surely it was a dream. How could all this be in one short night? It was
+like a nightmare and impossible. I raised up on my elbow and looked at
+the form beside me. It was Hobart Fenton. He was unconscious.
+
+For a moment my mind was whirring; I was too weak and unsteady. I
+dropped back and wondered absently at the roses. Roses meant
+perfume, and perfume meant a woman. What could--something touched my
+face--something soft; it plucked tenderly at my tangled hair and drew it
+away from my forehead. It was the hand of a woman!
+
+"You poor, foolish boy! You foolish boy!"
+
+Somewhere I had heard that voice; it held a touch of sadness; it was
+familiar; it was soft and silken like music that might have been woven
+out of the moonbeams. Who was it that always made me think of moonbeams?
+I lay still, thinking.
+
+"He dared; he dared; he dared!" she was saying. "As if there were not
+two! He shall pay for this! Am I to be a plaything? You poor boy!"
+
+Then I remembered. I looked up. It was the Nervina. She was stooping
+over with my head against her. How beautiful her eyes were! In their
+depths was a pathos and a tenderness that was past a woman's, the same
+slight droop at the corners of the mouth, and the wistfulness; her
+features were relaxed like a mother's--a wondrous sweetness and pity.
+
+"Harry," she asked, "where is Watson? Did he go?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+"Into the Blind Spot?"
+
+"Yes. What is the Blind Spot?"
+
+She ignored the question.
+
+"I am sorry" she answered. "So sorry. I would have saved him. And the
+Rhamda; was he here, too?"
+
+I nodded. Her eyes flashed wickedly.
+
+"And--and you--tell me, did you fight with the Rhamda? You--"
+
+"It was Watson," I interrupted. "This Rhamda is behind it all. He is the
+villain. He can fight like a tiger; whoever he is he can fight."
+
+She frowned slightly; she shook her head.
+
+"You young men," she said. "You young men! You are all alike! Why must
+it be? I am so sorry. And you fought with the Rhamda? You could not
+overcome him, of course. But tell me, how could you resist him? What did
+you do?"
+
+What did she mean? I had felt his flesh and muscle. He was a man. Why
+could he not be conquered--not be resisted?
+
+"I don't understand," I answered. "He is a man. I fought him. He was
+here. Let him account for Watson. We fought alone at first, until
+he tried to throw me into this Thing. Then Hobart stepped in. Once I
+thought we had him, but he was too slippery. He came near putting us
+both in. I don't know. Something happened--a bell."
+
+Her hand was on my arm, she clutched it tightly, she swallowed hard; in
+her eyes flashed the fire that I had noticed once before, the softness
+died out, and their glint was almost terrible.
+
+"He! The bell saved you? He would dare to throw you into the Blind
+Spot!"
+
+I lay back. I was terribly weak and uncertain. This beautiful woman!
+What was her interest in myself?
+
+"Harry," she spoke, "let me ask you. I am your friend. If you only knew!
+I would save you. It must not be. Will you give me the ring? If I could
+only tell you! You must not have it. It is death--yes, worse than death.
+No man may wear it."
+
+So that was it. Again and so soon I was to be tempted. Was her concern
+feigned or real? Why did she call me Harry? Why did I not resent it? She
+was wonderful; she was beautiful; she was pure. Was it merely a subtle
+act for the Rhamda? I could still hear Watson's voice ringing out of the
+Blind Spot; "Hold the ring! Hold the ring!" I could not be false to my
+friend.
+
+"Tell me first," I asked. "Who is this Rhamda? What is he? Is he a man?"
+
+"No."
+
+Not a man! I remembered Watson's words: "A phantom!" How could it be? At
+least I would find out what I could.
+
+"Then tell me, what is he?"
+
+"She smiled faintly; again the elusive tenderness lingered about her
+lips, the wistful droop at the corners.
+
+"That I may not tell you, Harry. You couldn't understand. If only I
+could."
+
+Certainly I couldn't understand her evasion. I studied and watched
+her--her wondrous hair, the perfection of her throat, the curve of her
+bosom.
+
+"Then he is supernatural."
+
+"No, not that, Harry. That would explain everything. One cannot go above
+Nature. He is living just as you are."
+
+I studied a moment.
+
+"Are you a woman?" I asked suddenly.
+
+Perhaps I should not have asked it; she was so sad and beautiful,
+somehow I could not doubt her sincerity. There was a burden at the
+back of her sadness, some great yearning unsatisfied, unattainable.
+She dropped her head. The hand upon my arm quivered and clutched
+spasmodically; I caught the least sound of a sob. When I looked up her
+eyes were wet and sparkling.
+
+"Oh," she said. "Harry, why do you ask it? A woman! Harry, a woman! To
+live and love and to be loved. What must it be? There is so much of life
+that is sweet and pure. I love it--I love it! I can have everything
+but the most exalted thing of all. I can live, see, enjoy, think, but I
+cannot have love. You knew it from the first. How did you know it? You
+said--Ah, it is true! I am out of the moonbeams." She controlled herself
+suddenly. "Excuse me," she said simply. "But you can never understand.
+May I have the ring?"
+
+It was like a dream--her beauty, her voice, everything. But I could
+still hear Watson. I was to be tempted, cajoled, flattered. What was
+this story out of the moonbeams? Certainly she was the most beautiful
+girl I had ever seen. Why had I asked such a question?
+
+"I shall keep the ring," I answered.
+
+She sighed. A strange weakness came over me; I was drowsy; I lapsed
+again into unconsciousness; just as I was fading away I heard her
+speaking: "I am so sorry!"
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+BAFFLED
+
+
+Was it a dream? The next I knew somebody was dousing water down my neck.
+It was Hobart Fenton. "Lord," he was saying, "I thought you were never
+coming to. What hit us? You are pretty well cut up. That was some fight.
+This Rhamda, who is he? Can you figure him out? Did you hear that bell?
+What was it?"
+
+I sat up. "Where is the Nervina?" I asked. "The who?" He was bewildered.
+"Oh, down at the cafe, I suppose. Thought you had forgotten her. Wasn't
+her mate enough? It might be healthy to forget his Nervina."
+
+He was a fine sight; his clothes were in ribbons; his plump figure was
+breaking out at the seams. He regarded me critically.
+
+"What d'you think of the Blind Spot?" he asked. "Who is the Rhamda? He
+put us out pretty easily."
+
+"But the girl?" I interrupted. "The girl? Confound it, the girl?"
+
+It was sometime before I could make him understand; even then he refused
+to believe me.
+
+"It was all a dream," he said; "all a dream."
+
+But I was certain.
+
+Fenton began prodding about the room. I do not believe any apartment was
+ever so thoroughly ransacked. We even tore up the carpet. When we were
+through he sat in the midst of the debris and wiped his forehead.
+
+"It's no use, Harry--no use. We might have known better. It can't be
+done. Yet you say you saw a string of incandescence."
+
+"A single string; the form of Watson; a blur--then nothing," I answered.
+
+He thought. He quoted the professor:
+
+"'Out of the occult I shall bring you the proof and the substance. It
+will be concrete--within the reach of your senses.' Isn't that what the
+doctor said?"
+
+"Then you believe Professor Holcomb?"
+
+"Why not? Didn't we see it? I know a deal of material science; but
+nothing like this. I always had faith in Dr. Holcomb. After all, it's
+not impossible. First we must go over the house thoroughly."
+
+We did. Most of all, we were interested in that bell. We did not think,
+either of us, that so much noise could come out of nothing. It was too
+material. The other we could credit to the occult; but not the sound. It
+had drowned our consciousness; perhaps it had saved us from the Rhamda.
+But we found nothing. We went over the house systematically. It was much
+as it had been previously described, only now a bit more furnished. The
+same dank, musty smell and the same suggestive silence. We returned to
+the lower floor and the library. It was a sorry sight. We straightened
+up the shelves and returned the books to their places.
+
+It was getting along toward morning. Hobart sailed at nine o'clock. We
+must have new clothing and some coffee; likewise we must collect our
+wits. I had the ring, and had given my pledge to Watson. I was muddled.
+We must get down to sane action. First of all we must return to our
+rooms.
+
+The fog had grown thicker; one could almost taste it. I couldn't
+suppress a shudder. It was cold, dank, repressive. Neither of us spoke
+a word on our way downtown. Hobart opened the door to our apartment; he
+turned on the lights.
+
+In a few moments we had hot, steaming cups of coffee. Still we did not
+speak. Hobart sat in his chair, his elbows on the table and his head
+between his hands. My thoughts ran back to that day in college when he
+said "I was just thinking, Harry, if I had one hundred thousand dollars,
+I would solve the Blind Spot."
+
+That was long ago. We had neither of us thought that we would come to
+the fact.
+
+"Well," I spoke, "have you got that hundred thousand dollars? You had an
+idea once."
+
+He looked up. "I've got it yet. I am not certain. It is merely a theory.
+But it's not impossible."
+
+"Well, what is it?"
+
+He took another drink of coffee and settled back in his chair.
+
+"It is energy, Harry--force. Nothing but energy--and Nature."
+
+"Then it's not occult?" I asked.
+
+"Certainly it is. I didn't say that. It is what the professor promised.
+Something concrete for our senses. If the occult is, it can certainly be
+proven. The professor was right. It is energy, force, vibration. It has
+a law. The old doctor was caught somehow. We must watch our step and
+see that we aren't swallowed up also. Perhaps we shall go the way of
+Watson."
+
+I shuddered.
+
+"I hope not. But explain. You speak in volumes. Come back to earth."
+
+"That's easy, Harry. I can give you my theory in a few short words.
+You've studied physiology, haven't you? Well, that's where you can get
+your proof--or rather let me say my theory. What is the Blind Spot?"
+
+"In optics?"
+
+"We'll forgo that," he answered. "I refer to this one."
+
+I thought for a moment.
+
+"Well," I said, "I don't know. It was something I couldn't see. Watson
+went out before our eyes. He was lost."
+
+"Exactly. Do you get the point?"
+
+"No."
+
+"It is this. What you see is merely energy. Your eye is merely a
+machine. It catches certain colours. Which in turn are merely rates of
+vibration. There is nothing to matter but force, Harry; if we could get
+down deep enough and know a few laws, we could transmute it."
+
+"What has it to do with the occult?"
+
+"Merely a fact. The eye machine catches only certain vibration speeds of
+energy. There are undoubtedly any number of speeds; the eye cannot see
+them."
+
+"Then this would account for the Blind Spot?"
+
+"Exactly. A localised spot, a condition, a combination of phenomena,
+anything entering it becomes invisible."
+
+"Where does it go to?"
+
+"That's it. Where? It's one of the things that man has been guessing at
+down the ages. The professor is the first philosopher with sound sense.
+He went after it. It's a pity he was trapped."
+
+"By the Rhamda?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+Hobart smiled.
+
+"How do I know? Where did he come from? If we knew that, we would know
+everything. 'A phantom,' so Watson says. If so, it only strengthens
+our theory. It would make a man and matter only a part of creation.
+Certainly it would clear up a lot of doubts."
+
+"And the ring?"
+
+"It controls the Blind Spot."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"That's for us to find out."
+
+"And Watson? He is in this land of doubt?"
+
+"At least he is in the Blind Spot. Let me try the ring."
+
+He struck a match.
+
+It was much as it had been in the restaurant, only a bit more startling.
+Then the blue faded, the colour went out, and it became transparent. For
+a moment. There was an effect of space and distance that I had not noted
+before, almost marvellous. If I could describe it at all, I would say
+a crystal corridor of a vastness that can scarcely be imagined. It
+made one dizzy, even in that bit of jewel: one lost proportion, it was
+height, distance, space immeasurable. For an instant. Then the whole
+thing blurred and clouded. Something passed across the face; the
+transparency turned to opaqueness, and then--two men. It was as sudden
+as a flash--the materialisation. There was no question. They were alive.
+Watson was with the professor.
+
+It was a strange moment. Only an hour before one of them had been
+with us. It was Watson, beyond a doubt. He was alive; one could almost
+believe him in the jewel. We had heard his story: "The screen of the
+occult; the curtain of shadow." We had seen him go. There was an element
+of horror in the thing, and of fascination. The great professor! The
+faithful Watson! Where had they gone?
+
+It was not until the colour had come back and the blue had regained its
+lustre that either of us looked up. Could such a thing be unravelled?
+Fenton turned the stone over thoughtfully. He shook his head.
+
+"In that jewel, Harry, lies the secret. I wish I knew a bit more about
+physics, light, force, energy, vibration. We have got to know."
+
+"Your theory?"
+
+"It still holds good."
+
+I thought.
+
+"Let me get it clear, Hobart. You say that we catch only certain
+vibrations."
+
+"That's it. Our eyes are instruments, nothing else. We can see light,
+but we cannot hear it. We hear sound, but we cannot see it. Of course
+they are not exactly parallel. But it serves the point. Let's go a
+bit further. The eye picks up certain vibrations. Light is nothing but
+energy vibrating at a tremendous speed. It has to be just so high for
+the eye to pick it up. A great deal we do not get. For instance, we can
+only catch one-twelfth of the solar spectrum. Until recently we have
+believed only what we could see. Science has pulled us out of the rut.
+It may pull us through the Blind Spot."
+
+"And beyond."
+
+Hobart held up his hands.
+
+"It is almost too much to believe. We have made a discovery. We must
+watch our step. We must not lose. The work of Dr. Holcomb shall not go
+for nothing."
+
+"And the ring?"
+
+He consulted his watch.
+
+"We have only a short time left. We must map our action. We have three
+things to work on--the ring, the house, Bertha Holcomb. It's all up to
+you, Harry. Find out all that is possible; but go slow. Trace down
+that ring; find out everything that you can. Go and see Bertha Holcomb.
+Perhaps she can give you some data. Watson said no; but perhaps you may
+uncover it. Take the ring to a lapidary; but don't let him cut it. Last
+of all, and most important, buy the house of the Blind Spot. Draw on me.
+Let me pay half, anyway."
+
+"I shall move into it," I answered.
+
+He hesitated a bit.
+
+"I am afraid of that," he answered. "Well, if you wish. Only be careful.
+Remember I shall return just as soon as I can get loose. If you feel
+yourself slipping or anything happens, send me a cable."
+
+The hours passed all too quickly. When day came we had our breakfast
+and hurried down to the pier. It was hard to have him go. His last words
+were like Hobart Fenton. He repeated the warning.
+
+"Watch your step, Harry; watch your step. Take things easy; be cautious.
+Get the house. Trace down the ring. Be sure of yourself. Keep me
+informed. If you need me, cable. I'll come if I have to swim."
+
+His last words; and not a year ago. It seems now like a lifetime. As I
+stood upon the pier and watched the ship slipping into the water, I felt
+it coming upon me. It had grown steadily, a gloom and oppression not to
+be thwarted; it is silent and subtle and past defining--like shadow. The
+grey, heavy heave of the water; the great hull of the steamer backing
+into the bay; the gloom of the fog bank. A few uncertain lines, the
+shrill of the siren, the mist settling; I was alone. It was isolation.
+
+I had been warned by Watson. But I had not guessed. At the moment
+I sensed it. It was the beginning. Out of my heart I could feel
+it--solitude.
+
+In the great and populous city I was to be alone, in all its teeming
+life I was to be a stranger. It has been almost a year--a year! It has
+been a lifetime. A breaking down of life!
+
+I have waited and fought and sought to conquer. One cannot fight against
+shadow. It is merciless and inexorable. There are secrets that may be
+locked forever. It was my duty, my pledge to Watson, what I owed to the
+professor. I have hung on grimly; what the end will be I do not know. I
+have cabled for Fenton.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+A DEAL IN PROPERTY
+
+
+But to return. There was work that I should do--much work if I was going
+after the solution. In the first place, there was the house. I turned
+my back to the waterfront and entered the city. The streets were packed,
+the commerce of man jostled and threaded along the highways; there was
+life and action, hope, ambition. It was what I had loved so well. Yet
+now it was different.
+
+I realised it vaguely, and wondered. This feeling of aloofness? It was
+intrinsic, coming from within, like the withering of one's marrow. I
+laughed at my foreboding; it was not natural; I tried to shake myself
+together.
+
+I had no difficulty with the records. In less than an hour I traced out
+the owners, "an estate," and had located the agent. It just so happened
+that he was a man with whom I had some acquaintance. We were not long in
+coming to business.
+
+"The house at No. 288 Chatterton Place?"
+
+I noticed that he was startled; there was a bit of wonder in his look--a
+quizzical alertness. He motioned me to a chair and closed the door.
+
+"Sit down, Mr. Wendel; sit down. H-m! The house at No. 288 Chatterton
+Place? Did I hear you right?"
+
+Again I noted the wonder; his manner was cautious and curious. I nodded.
+
+"Want to buy it or just lease it? Pardon me, but you are sort of a
+friend. I would not like to lose your friendship for the sake of a mere
+sale. What is your--"
+
+"Just for a residence," I insisted. "A place to live in."
+
+"I see. Know anything about this place?"
+
+"Do you?"
+
+He fumbled with some papers. For an agent he did not strike me as being
+very solicitous for a commission.
+
+"Well," he said, "in a way, yes. A whole lot more than I'd like to. It
+all depends. One gets much from hearsay. What I know is mostly
+rumour." He began marking with a pencil. "Of course I don't believe it.
+Nevertheless I would hardly recommend it to a friend as a residence."
+
+"And these rumours?"
+
+He looked up; for a moment he studied; then:
+
+"Ever hear of the Blind Spot? Perhaps you remember Dr. Holcomb--in 1905,
+before the 'quake. It was a murder. The papers were full of it at the
+time; since then it has been occasionally featured in the supplements. I
+do not believe in the story; but I can trust to facts. The last seen of
+Dr. Holcomb was in this house. It is called the Blind Spot."
+
+"Then you believe in the story?" I asked.
+
+He looked at me.
+
+"Oh, you know it, eh? No, I do not. It's all bunkum; reporters' work
+and exaggeration. If you like that kind of stuff, it's weird and
+interesting. But it hurts property. The man was undoubtedly murdered.
+The tale hangs over the house. It's impossible to dispose of the place."
+
+"Then why not sell it to me?"
+
+He dropped his pencil; he was a bit nervous.
+
+"A fair question, Mr. Wendel--a very fair question. Well, now, why don't
+I? Perhaps I shall. There's no telling. But I'd rather not. Do you know,
+a year ago I would have jumped at an offer. Fact is, I did lease it--the
+lease ran out yesterday--to a man named Watson. I don't believe a thing
+in this nonsense; but what I have seen during the past year has tested
+my nerve considerably."
+
+"What about Watson?"
+
+"Watson? A year ago he came to see me in regard to this Chatterton
+property. Wanted to lease it. Was interested in the case of Dr. Holcomb;
+asked for a year's rental and the privilege of renewal. I don't know. I
+gave it to him; but when he drops in again I am going to fight almighty
+hard against letting him hold it longer."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Why? Why, because I don't believe in murder. A year ago he came to
+me the healthiest and happiest man I ever saw; today he is a shadow. I
+watched that boy go down. Understand, I don't believe a damn word I'm
+saying; but I have seen it. It's that cursed house. I say no, when
+I reason; but it keeps on my nerves; it's on my conscience. It is
+insidious. Every month when he came here I could see disintegration.
+It's pitiful to see a young man stripped of life like that; forlorn,
+hopeless, gone. He has never told me what it is; but I have wondered. A
+battle; some conflict with--there I go again. It's on my nerves, I tell
+you, on my nerves. If this keeps up I'll burn it."
+
+It was a bit foreboding. Already I could feel the tugging at my heart
+that had done for Watson. This man had watched my friend slipping into
+the shadow; I had come to take his place.
+
+"Watson has gone," I said simply; "and that's why I am here."
+
+He straightened up.
+
+"You know him then. He was not--"
+
+"He went last night; he has left the country. He was in very poor
+health. That's why I am here. I know very well the cloud that hangs over
+the property; it is my sole reason for purchasing."
+
+"You don't believe in this nonsense?"
+
+I smiled. Certainly the man was perverse in his agnosticism; he was
+stubborn in disbelief. It was on his nerves; on his conscience; he was
+afraid.
+
+"I believe nothing," I answered; "neither do I disbelieve. I know all
+the story that has been told or written. I am a friend of Watson. You
+need not scruple in making me out a bill of sale. It's my own funeral. I
+abide by the consequences."
+
+He gave a sigh of relief. After all, he was human. He had honour; but
+it was after the brand of Pontius Pilate. He wished nothing on his
+conscience.
+
+Armed with the keys and the legal title, I took possession. In the
+daylight it was much as it had been the night before. Once across its
+threshold, one was in dank and furtive suppression; the air was heavy;
+a mould of age had streaked the walls and gloomed the shadows. I put up
+all the curtains to let in the rush of sunlight, likewise I opened the
+windows. If there is anything to beat down sin, it is the open measure
+of broad daylight.
+
+The house was well situated; from the front windows one could look down
+the street and out at the blue bay beyond the city. The fog had lifted
+and the sun was shining upon the water. I could make out the ferryboats,
+the islands, and the long piers that lead to Oakland, and still farther
+beyond the hills of Berkeley. It was a long time since those days in
+college. Under the shadow of those hills I had first met the old doctor.
+I was only a boy then.
+
+I turned into the building. Even the sound of my footsteps was foreign;
+the whole place was pregnant with stillness and shadow; life was gone
+out. It was fearful; I felt the terror clutching upon me, a grimness
+that may not be spoken; there was something breaking within me. I had
+pledged myself for a year. Frankly I was afraid.
+
+But I had given my word. I returned to my apartments and began that
+very day the closing down of my practice. In a fortnight I had completed
+everything and had moved my things to the room of Chick Watson.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+ALBERT JEROME
+
+
+Just as soon as possible I hurried over to Berkeley. I went straight to
+the bungalow on Dwight Way; I inquired for Miss Holcomb. She was a woman
+now in her late twenties, decidedly pretty, a blonde, and of intelligent
+bearing.
+
+Coming on such an errand, I was at a loss just how to approach her. I
+noted the little lines about the corners of her eyes, the sad droop of
+her pretty mouth. Plainly she was worried. As I was removing my hat she
+caught sight of the ring upon my finger.
+
+"Oh," she said; "then you come from Mr. Watson. How is Chick?"
+
+"Mr. Watson"--I did not like lying, but I could not but feel for
+her; she had already lost her father--"Mr. Watson has gone on a trip
+up-country--with Jerome. He was not feeling well. He has left this ring
+with me. I have come for a bit of information."
+
+She bit her lips; her mouth quivered.
+
+"Couldn't you get this from Mr. Watson? He knows about the stone. Didn't
+he tell you? How did it come into your possession? What has happened?"
+
+Her voice was querulous and suspicious. I had endeavoured to deceive her
+for her own sake; she had suffered enough already. I could not but wince
+at the pain in her eyes. She stood up.
+
+"Please, Mr. Wendel; don't be clumsy. Don't regard me as a mere baby.
+Tell me what has happened to Chick. Please--"
+
+She stopped in a flow of emotion. Tears came to her eyes; but she held
+control. She sat down.
+
+"Tell me all, Mr. Wendel. It is what I expected." She blinked to hold
+back her tears. "It is my fault. You wouldn't have the ring had nothing
+happened. Tell me. I can be brave."
+
+And brave she was--splendid. With the tug at my own heart I could
+understand her. What uncertainty and dread she must have been under! I
+had been in it but a few days; already I could feel the weight. At no
+time could I surmount the isolation; there was something going from
+me minute by minute. With the girl there could be no evasion; it were
+better that she have the truth. I made a clean breast of the whole
+affair.
+
+"And he told you no more about the ring?"
+
+"That is all," I answered. "He would have told us much more,
+undoubtedly, had he not--"
+
+"You saw him go--you saw this thing?"
+
+"That is just it, Miss Holcomb. We saw nothing. One minute we were
+looking at Chick, and the next at nothing. Hobart understood it better
+than I. At least he forbade my crossing the room. There is a danger
+point, a spot that may not be crossed. He threw me back. It was then
+that the Rhamda came upon the scene." She frowned slightly.
+
+"Tell me about the Nervina. When Chick spoke of her, I could always feel
+jealous. Is she beautiful?"
+
+"Most beautiful, the most wonderful girl I have ever seen, though I
+would hardly class her as one to be jealous of. But she wants the ring.
+I've promised Watson, and of course I shall keep it. But I would like
+its history."
+
+"I think I can give you some information there," she answered. "The
+ring, or rather the jewel, was given to father about twenty years ago by
+a Mr. Kennedy. He had been a pupil of father's when father taught at a
+local school. He came here often to talk over old times. Father had the
+jewel set in a ring; but he never wore it."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"How did Watson come to link it up with the Blind Spot?"
+
+"That, I think, was an accident. He was in college, you know, at the
+time of father's disappearance. In fact, he was in the Ethics class.
+He came here often, and during one of his visits I showed him the ring.
+That was several years ago."
+
+"I see."
+
+"Well, about a year ago he was here again, and asked to see the jewel.
+We were to be married, you understand; but I had always put it off
+because of father. Somehow I felt that he would return. It was in late
+summer, about September; it was in the evening; it was getting dark. I
+gave Chick the ring, and stepped into the garden to cut some flowers. I
+remember that Chick struck a match in the parlour. When I came back he
+seemed to be excited."
+
+"Did he ask you for the ring?"
+
+"Yes. He wanted to wear it. And he suddenly began to talk of father. It
+was that night that he took it upon himself to find him."
+
+"I see. Not before that night? Did he take the ring then?"
+
+"Yes. We went to the opera. I remember it well, because that night was
+the first time I ever knew Chick to be gloomy."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes. You know how jolly he always was. When we returned that night he
+would scarcely say a word. I thought he was sick; but he said he was
+not; said he just felt that way."
+
+"I understand. And he kept getting glummer? Did you suspect the jewel?
+Did he ever tell you anything?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No. He told me nothing, except that he would find father. Of course, I
+became excited and wanted to know. But he insisted that I couldn't help;
+that he had a clue, and that it might take time. From that night I saw
+very little of him. He leased the house on Chatterton Place. He seemed
+to lose interest in myself; when he did come over he would act queerly.
+He talked incoherently, and would often make rambling mention of a
+beautiful girl called Nervina. You say it is the ring? Tell me, Mr.
+Wendel, what is it? Has it really anything to do with father?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+"I think it has, Miss Holcomb. And I can understand poor Chick. He is a
+very brave man. It's a strange jewel and of terrible potency; that much
+I know. It devitalises; it destroys. I can feel it already. It covers
+life with a fog of decay. The same solitude has come upon myself.
+Nevertheless I am certain it has much to do with the Blind Spot. It is a
+key of some sort. The very interest of the Rhamda and the Nervina tells
+us that. I think it was through this stone that your father made his
+discovery."
+
+She thought a moment.
+
+"Hadn't you better return it? While you still have health? If you keep
+it, it will be only one more."
+
+"You forget, Miss Holcomb, my promise to Chick. I loved your father,
+and I was fond of Watson. It's a great secret and, if the professor is
+right, one which man has sought through the ages. I'd be a coward to
+forgo my duty. If I fail, I have another to take my place."
+
+"Oh," she said, "it's horrible. First father; then Chick; now you; and
+afterwards it will be Mr. Fenton."
+
+"It is our duty," I returned. "One by one. Though we may fail, each one
+of us may pass a bit more on to his successor. In the end we win. It is
+the way of man."
+
+I had my way. She turned over all the data and notes that had been
+left by the professor; but I never found a thing in them that could be
+construed to an advantage. My real quest was to trace down the jewel.
+The man Kennedy's full name was, I learned, Budge Kennedy. He had lived
+in Oakland. It was late in the afternoon when I parted with Miss Holcomb
+and started for the city.
+
+I remember it well because of a little incident that occurred
+immediately after our parting. I was just going down the steps when I
+looked up one of the side streets. A few students were loitering here
+and there. But there was one who was not a student. I recognised him
+instantly, and I wondered. It was the Rhamda. This was enough to make
+me suspicious. But there was one thing more. Farther up the street was
+another figure.
+
+When I came down the steps the Rhamda moved, and his move was somehow
+duplicated by the other. In itself this was enough to clear up some of
+my doubts concerning the phantom. His actions were too simple for an
+apparition. Only a man would act like that, and a crude one. I didn't
+know then the nerve of the Rhamda. There was no doubt that I was being
+shadowed.
+
+To make certain, I took the by-streets and meandered by a devious route
+to the station. There was no question; one and two they followed. I knew
+the Rhamda; but who was the other?
+
+At the station we purchased tickets, and when the train pulled in I
+boarded a smoker. The other two took another coach--the stranger was a
+thick-set individual with a stubby, grey moustache. On the boat I didn't
+see them; but at the ferry building I made a test to see that I was
+followed. I hailed a taxi and gave specific instructions to the driver.
+
+"Drive slowly," I told him. "I think we shall be followed."
+
+And I was right; in a few minutes there were two cars dogging our
+wheel-tracks. I had no doubt concerning the Rhamda; but I couldn't
+understand the other. At No. 288 Chatterton Place we stopped and I
+alighted. The Rhamda's car passed, then the other. Neither stopped. Both
+disappeared round the corner. I took the numbers; then I went into the
+house. In about a half hour a car drew up at the curb. I stepped to
+the window. It was the car that had tracked the Rhamda's. The stubby
+individual stepped out; without ceremony he ran up the steps and opened
+the door. It was a bit disconcerting, I think, for both. He was plain
+and blunt--and honest.
+
+"Well," he said, "where's Watson? Who are you? What do you want?"
+
+"That," I answered, "is a question for both of us. Who are you, and what
+do you want? Where is Watson?"
+
+Just then his eyes dropped and his glance fell and eyes widened.
+
+"My name is Jerome," he said simply. "Has something happened to Watson?
+Who are you?"
+
+We were standing in the library; I made an indication towards the other
+room. "In there," I said. "My name is Wendel."
+
+He took off his hat and ran the back of his hand across his forehead.
+
+"So that pair got him, too! I was afraid of them all the while. And I
+had to be away. Do you know how they did it? What's the working of their
+game? It's devilish and certainly clever. They played that boy for a
+year; they knew they would get him in the end. So did I.
+
+"He was a fine lad, a fine lad. I knew this morning when I came down
+from Nevada that they had him. Found your duds. A stranger. House looked
+queer. But I had hopes he might have gone over to see his girl. Just
+thought I'd wander over to Berkeley. Found that bird Rhamda under a palm
+tree watching the Holcomb bungalow. It was the first time I'd seen
+him since that day things went amiss with the professor. In about ten
+minutes you came out. I stayed with him while he tracked you back here;
+I followed him back down town and lost him. Tell me about Watson."
+
+He sat down; during my recital he spoke not a word. He consumed one
+cigar after another; when I stopped for a moment he merely nodded his
+head and waited until I continued. He was sturdy and frank, of an iron
+way and vast common sense. I liked him. When I had finished he remained
+silent; his grief was of a solid kind! he had liked poor Watson.
+
+"I see," he said. "It is as I thought. He told you more than he ever
+told me."
+
+"He never told you?"
+
+"Not much. He was a strange lad--about the loneliest one I've ever seen.
+There was something about him from the very first that was not natural;
+I couldn't make him out. You say it is the ring. He always wore it.
+I laid it to this Rhamda. He was always meeting him. I could never
+understand it. Try as I would, I could not get a trace of the phantom."
+
+"The phantom?"
+
+"Most assuredly. Would you call him human?" His grey eyes were flecked
+with light. "Come now, Mr. Wendel, would you?"
+
+"Well," I answered, "I don't know. Not after what I have seen. But for
+all that, I have proof of his sinews. I am inclined to blend the
+two. There is a law somewhere, a very natural one. The Blind Spot is
+undoubtedly a combination of phenomena; it has a control. We do not know
+what it is, or where it leads to; neither do we know the motive of the
+Rhamda. Who is he? If we knew that, we would know everything."
+
+"And this ring?"
+
+"I shall wear it."
+
+"Then God help you. I watched Watson. It's plain poison. You have a
+year; but you had better count on half a year; the first six months
+aren't so bad; but the last--it takes a man! Wendel, it takes a man!
+Already you're eating your heart out. Oh, I know--you have opened the
+windows; you want sunshine and air. In six months I shall have to fight
+to get one open. It gets into the soul; it is stagnation; you die by
+inches. Better give me the ring."
+
+"This Budge Kennedy," I evaded, "we must find him. We have time. One
+clue may lead us on. Tell me what you know of the Blind Spot."
+
+"Very easy," he answered; "you have it all. I have been here a number of
+years. You will remember I fell into the case through intuition. I never
+had any definite proof, outside the professor's disappearance, the
+old lady, and that bell; unless perhaps it is the Rhamda. But from the
+beginning I've been positive.
+
+"Taking that lecture in ethics as a starter, I built up my theory.
+All the clues lead to this building. It's something that I cannot
+understand. It's out of the occult. It's a bit too much for me. I moved
+into the place and waited. I've never forgotten that bell, nor that old
+lady. You and Fenton are the only ones who have seen the Blind Spot."
+
+I had a sudden thought.
+
+"The Rhamda! I have read that he has the manner of inherent goodness. Is
+it true? You have conversed with him. I haven't."
+
+"He has. He didn't strike me as a villain. He's intrinsic, noble, out of
+self. I have often wondered."
+
+I smiled. "Perhaps we are thinking the same thing. Is this it? The Blind
+Spot is a secret that man may not attain to. It is unknowable and akin
+to death. The Rhamda knows it. He couldn't head off the professor. He
+simply employed Dr. Holcomb's wisdom to trap him; now that he has him
+secure, he intends to hold him. It is for our own good."
+
+"Exactly. Yet--"
+
+"Yet?"
+
+"He was very anxious to put you and Fenton into this very Spot."
+
+"That is so. But may it not be that we, too, knew a bit too much?"
+
+He couldn't answer that.
+
+Nevertheless, we were both of us convinced concerning the Rhamda. It was
+merely a digression of thought, a conjecture. He might be good; but we
+were both positive of his villainy. It was his motive, of course,
+that weighed up his character; could we find that, we would uncover
+everything.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+A NEW ELEMENT
+
+
+Budge Kennedy was not so easily found. There were many Kennedys. About
+two-thirds of Ireland had apparently migrated to San Francisco under
+that name and had lodged in the directory. We went through the lists on
+both sides of the bay, but found nothing; the old directories had mostly
+been destroyed by fire or had been thrown away as worthless; but at last
+we unearthed one. In it we found the name of Budge Kennedy.
+
+He had two sons--Patrick and Henry. One of these, Henry, we ran down in
+the Mission. He was a great, red-headed, broad-shouldered Irishman. He
+was just eating supper when we called; there were splotches of white
+plaster on his trousers.
+
+I came right to the point: "Do you know anything about this?" I held out
+the ring.
+
+He took it in his fingers; his eyes popped. "What, that! Well, I guess
+I do! Where'd you get it?" He called out to the kitchen: "Say, Mollie,
+come here. Here's the old man's jool!" He looked at me a bit fearfully.
+"You aren't wearing it?"
+
+"Why not?" I asked.
+
+"Why? Well, I don't know exactly. I wouldn't wear it for a million
+dollars. It ain't a jool; it's a piece of the divil. The old man gave
+it to Dr. Holcomb--or sold it, I don't know which. He carried it in his
+pocket once, and he came near dying."
+
+"Unlucky?" I asked.
+
+"No, it ain't unlucky; it just rips your heart out. It would make you
+hate your grandmother. Lonesome! Lonesome! I've often heard the old man
+talking."
+
+"He sold it to Dr. Holcomb? Do you know why?"
+
+"Well, yes. 'Twas that the old doc had some scientific work. Dad told
+him about his jool. One day he took it over to Berkeley. It was some
+kind of thing that the professor just wanted. He kept it. Dad made him
+promise not to wear it."
+
+"I see. Did your father ever tell you where he got it?"
+
+"Oh, yes. He often spoke about that. The old man wasn't a plasterer,
+you know--just a labourer. He was digging a basement. It was a funny
+basement--a sort of blind cellar. There was a stone wall right across
+the middle, and then there was a door of wood to look like stone. You
+can go down into the back cellar, but not into the front. If you don't
+know about the door, you'll never find it. Dad often spoke about that.
+He was working in the back cellar when he found this. 'Twas sticking in
+some blue clay."
+
+"Where was this place? Do you remember?"
+
+"Sure. 'Twas in Chatterton Place. Pat and I was kids then; we took the
+old man's dinner."
+
+"Do you know the number?"
+
+"It didn't have no number; but I know the place. 'Tis a two-story house,
+and was built in 'ninety-one."
+
+I nodded. "And afterwards you moved to Oakland?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did your father ever speak of the reason for this partition in the
+cellar?"
+
+"He never knew of one. It was none of his business. He was merely a
+labourer, and did what he was paid for."
+
+"Do you know who built it?"
+
+"Some old guy. He was a cranky cuss with side-whiskers. He used to wear
+a stove-pipe hat. I think he was a chemist. Whenever he showed up he
+would run us kids out of the building. I think he was a bachelor."
+
+This was all the information he could give, but it was a great deal.
+Certainly it was more than I had hoped for. The house had been built
+by a chemist; even in the construction there was mystery. I had never
+thought of a second cellar; when I had explored the building I had taken
+the stone wall for granted. It was so with Jerome. It was the first
+definite clue that really brought us down to earth. What had this
+chemist to do with the phenomena?
+
+After all, behind everything was lurking the mind of man.
+
+We hastened back to the house and into the cellar. By merely sounding
+along the wall we discovered the door; it was cleverly constructed and
+for a time defied our efforts; but Jerome got it open by means of a
+jemmy and a pick. The outside was a clever piece of sham work shaped
+like stone and smeared over with cement. In the dim light we had missed
+it.
+
+We had high expectations. But we were disappointed. The space contained
+nothing; it was smeared with cobwebs and hairy mould; but outside of a
+few empty bottles and the gloomy darkness there was nothing. We tapped
+the walls and floor and ceiling. Beyond all doubt the place once held
+a secret; if it held it still, it was cleverly hidden. After an hour or
+two of search we returned to the upper part of the building.
+
+Jerome was not discouraged.
+
+"We're on the right track, Mr. Wendel; if we can only get started.
+I have an idea. The chemist--it was in 'ninety-one--that's more than
+twenty years."
+
+"What is your idea?"
+
+"The Rhamda. What is the first thing that strikes you? His age. With
+everyone that sees him it's the same. At first you take him for an old
+man; if you study him long enough, you are positive that he is in his
+twenties. May he not be this chemist?"
+
+"What becomes of the doctor and his Blind Spot?"
+
+"The Blind Spot," answered Jerome, "is merely a part of the chemistry."
+
+Next day I hunted up a jeweller. I was careful to choose one with whom I
+was acquainted. I asked for a private consultation. When we were alone I
+took the ring from my finger.
+
+"Just an opinion," I asked. "You know gems. Can you tell me anything
+about this one?"
+
+He picked it up casually, and turned it over; his mouth puckered. For a
+minute he studied.
+
+"That? Well, now." He held it up. "Humph. Wait a minute."
+
+"Is it a gem?"
+
+"I think it is. At first I thought I knew it right off; but now--wait a
+minute."
+
+He reached in the drawer for his glass. He held the stone up for some
+minutes. His face was a study; queer little wrinkles twisting from the
+corners of his eyes told his wonder. He did not speak; merely turned
+the stone round and round. At last he removed his glass and held up the
+ring. He was quizzical.
+
+"Where did you get this?" he asked.
+
+"That is something I do not care to answer. I wish to know what it is.
+Is it a gem? If so, what kind?"
+
+He thought a moment and shook his head.
+
+"I thought I knew every gem on earth. But I don't. This is a new one.
+It is beautiful--just a moment." He stepped to the door. In a moment
+another man stepped in. The jeweller motioned towards the ring. The man
+picked it up and again came the examination. At last he laid the glass
+and ring both upon the table.
+
+"What do you make of it, Henry?" asked the jeweller.
+
+"Not me," answered the second one. "I never saw one like it."
+
+It was as Watson had said. No man had ever identified the jewel. The two
+men were puzzled; they were interested. The jeweller turned to me.
+
+"Would you care to leave it with us for a bit; you have no objection to
+us taking it out of the ring?"
+
+I had not thought of that. I had business down the street. I consulted
+my watch.
+
+"In half an hour I shall be back. Will that be enough time?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+It was an hour before I returned. The assistant was standing at the door
+of the office. He spoke something to the one inside and then made an
+indication to myself. He seemed excited; when I came closer I noted that
+his face was full of wonder.
+
+"We've been waiting," said he. "We didn't examine the stone; it wasn't
+necessary. It is truly wonderful." He was a short, squat man with a
+massive forehead. "Just step inside."
+
+Inside the office the jeweller was sitting beside a table; he was
+leaning back in his chair; he had his hands clasped over his stomach. He
+was gazing toward the ceiling; his face was a study, full of wonder and
+speculation.
+
+"Well?" I asked.
+
+For an answer he merely raised his finger, pointed towards the ceiling.
+
+"Up there," he spoke. "Your jewel or whatever it is. A good thing we
+weren't in open air. 'Twould be going yet."
+
+I looked up. Sure enough, against the ceiling was the gem. It was a bit
+disconcerting, though I will confess that in the first moment I did not
+catch the full significance.
+
+The jeweller closed one eye and studied first myself and then the
+beautiful thing against the ceiling.
+
+"What do you make of it?" he asked.
+
+Really I had not made anything; it was a bit of a shock; I hadn't
+grasped the full impossibility. I didn't answer.
+
+"Don't you see, Mr. Wendel? Impossible! Contrary to nature! Lighter than
+air. We took it out of the ring and it shot out like a bullet. Thought
+I'd dropped it. Began looking on the floor. Couldn't find it; looked up
+and saw Reynolds, here, with his eyes popping out like marbles. He was
+looking at the ceiling."
+
+I thought for a moment.
+
+"Then it is not a gem?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders. "Not if I'm a jeweller. Whoever heard of a
+stone without weight? It has no gravity, that is, apparently. I doubt
+whether it is a substance. I don't know what it is."
+
+It was puzzling. I would have given a good deal just then for a few
+words with Dr. Holcomb. The man, Kennedy, had kept it in his pocket.
+How had he held it a prisoner? The professor had use for it in some
+scientific work! No wonder! Certainly it was not a jewel. What could it
+be? It was solid. It was lighter than air. Could it be a substance? If
+not; what is it?
+
+"What would you advise?"
+
+In answer the jeweller reached for the telephone. He gave a number.
+
+"Hello. Say, is Ed there? This is Phil. Tell him to step to the phone.
+Hello! Say, Ed, I want you to come over on the jump. Something to show
+you. Too busy! No, you're not. Not for this. I'm going to teach you some
+chemistry. No; this is serious. What is it? I don't know. What's lighter
+than air? Lots of things? Oh, I know. But what solid? That's why I'm
+asking. Come over. All right. At once."
+
+He hung up the receiver.
+
+"My brother," he spoke. "It has passed beyond my province and into his.
+He is a chemist. As an expert he may give you a real opinion."
+
+Surely we needed one. It was against reason. It had taken me
+completely off my balance. I took a chair and joined the others in the
+contemplation of the blue dot on the ceiling. We could speculate and
+conjecture; but there was not one of us deep enough even to start a
+theory. Plainly it was what should not be. We had been taught physics
+and science; we had been drilled to fundamentals. If this thing could
+be, then the foundations upon which we stood were shattered. But one
+little law! Back in my mind was buzzing the enigma of the Blind Spot.
+They were woven together. Some law that had eluded the ken of mankind.
+
+The chemist was a tall man with a hook nose and black eyes that clinched
+like rivets. He was a bit impatient. He looked keenly at his brother.
+
+"Well, Phil, what is it?" He pulled out a watch, "I haven't much time."
+
+There was a contrast between them. The jeweller was fat and complacent.
+He merely sat in his chair, his hand on his waistband and a stubby
+finger elevated toward the jewel. He seemed to enjoy it.
+
+"You're a chemist, Ed. Here's a test for your wisdom. Can you explain
+that? No, over here. Above your head. That jewel?"
+
+The other looked up.
+
+"What's the idea? New notion for decoration? Or"?--a bit testily--"is
+this a joke?" He was a serious man; his black eyes and the nose spoke
+his character.
+
+The jeweller laughed gently.
+
+"Listen, Ed--" Then he went into explanation; when he was through the
+chemist was twitching with excitement.
+
+"Get me a ladder. Here, let me get on the table; perhaps I can reach
+it. Sounds impossible, but if it's so, it's so; it must have an
+explanation."
+
+Without ado and in spite of the protests of his brother he stepped upon
+the polished surface of the table. He was a tall man; he could just
+barely reach it with the tip of his finger. He could move it; but each
+time it clung as to a magnet. After a minute of effort he gave it up.
+When he looked down he was a different man; his black eyes glowed with
+wonder.
+
+"Can't make it," he said. "Get a step-ladder. Strange!"
+
+With the ladder it was easy. He plucked it off the ceiling. We pressed
+about the table. The chemist turned it about with his fingers.
+
+"I wonder," he was saying. "It's a gem. Apparently. You say it has no
+gravity. It can't be. Whoop!" He let it slip out of his fingers. Again
+it popped on its way to the ceiling. He caught it with a deft movement
+of his hand. "The devil! Did you ever see! And a solid! Who owns this?"
+
+That brought it back to me. I explained what I could of the manner of my
+possession.
+
+"I see. Very interesting. Something I've never
+seen--and--frankly--something strictly against what I've been taught.
+Nevertheless, it's not impossible. We are witnesses at least. Would you
+care if I take this over to the laboratory?"
+
+It was a new complication. If it were not a jewel there was a chance of
+its being damaged. I was as anxious as he; but I had been warned as to
+its possession.
+
+"I shan't harm it. I'll see to that. I have suspicions and I'd like to
+verify them. A chemist doesn't blunder across such a thing every day. I
+am a chemist." His eyes glistened.
+
+"Your suspicions?" I asked.
+
+"A new element."
+
+This gem. A new element. Perhaps that would explain the Blind Spot. It
+was not exactly of earth. Everything had confirmed it.
+
+"You--A new element? How do you account for it? It defies your laws.
+Most of your elements are evolved through tedious process. This is
+picked up by chance."
+
+"That is so. But there are still a thousand ways. A meteor, perhaps; a
+bit of cosmic dust--there are many shattered comets. Our chemistry
+is earthly. There are undoubtedly new elements that we don't know of.
+Perhaps in enormous proportion."
+
+I let him have it. It was the only night I had been away from the ring.
+I may say that it is the only time I have been free from its isolation.
+
+When I called at his office next day I found he had merely confirmed his
+suspicions. It defied analysis; there was no reaction. Under all tests
+it was a stranger. The whole science that had been built up to explain
+everything had here explained nothing. However there was one thing that
+he had uncovered--heat. Perhaps I should say magnetism. It was cold to
+man. I have spoken about the icy blue of its colour. It was cold even to
+look at. The chemist placed it in my hand.
+
+"Is it not so?"
+
+It was. The minute it touched my palm I could sense the weird horror of
+the isolation; the stone was cold. Just like a piece of ice.
+
+This was the first time I had ever had it in direct contact with the
+flesh. Set in the ring its impulse had always been secondary.
+
+"You notice it? It is so with me. Now then. Just a minute."
+
+He pressed a button. A young lady answered his ring; she glanced first
+at myself and then at the chemist.
+
+"Miss Mills, this is Mr. Wendel. He is the owner of the gem. Would you
+take it in your hand? And please tell Mr. Wendel how it feels--"
+
+She laughed; she was a bit perplexed.
+
+"I don't understand"--she turned to me--"we had the same dispute
+yesterday. See, Mr. White says that it's cold; but it is not. It is
+warm; almost burning. All the other girls think just as I do."
+
+"And all the men as I do," averred the chemist, "even Mr. Wendel."
+
+"Is it cold to you?" she asked. "Really--"
+
+It was a turn I hadn't looked for. It was akin to life--this relation to
+sex. Could it account for the strange isolation and the weariness? I was
+a witness to its potency. Watson! I could feel myself dragging under. I
+had just one question:
+
+"Tell me, Miss Mills. Can you sense anything else; I mean beyond its
+temperature?"
+
+She smiled a bit. "I don't know what you mean exactly. It is a beautiful
+stone. I would like to have it."
+
+"You think its possession would make you happy?"
+
+Her eyes sparkled.
+
+"Oh," she exclaimed. "I know it would! I can feel it!"
+
+It was so. Whatever there was in the bit of sapphirine blue, it had
+life. What was it? It had relation to sex. In the strict line of fact it
+was impossible.
+
+When we were alone again I turned to the chemist.
+
+"Is there anything more you uncovered? Did you see anything in the
+stone?"
+
+He frowned. "No. Nothing else. This magnetism is the only thing. Is
+there anything more?"
+
+Now I hadn't said anything about its one great quality. He hadn't
+stumbled across the image of the two men. I couldn't understand it. I
+didn't tell him. Perhaps I was wrong. Down inside me I sensed a subtle
+reason for secrecy. It is hard to explain. It was not perverseness; it
+was a finer distinction; perhaps it was the influence of the gem. I took
+it back to the jeweller again and had it reset.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+AGAIN THE NERVINA
+
+
+It was at this point that I began taking notes. There is something
+psychological to the Blind Spot, weird and touching on the spirit. I
+know not what it is; but I can feel it. It impinges on to life. I can
+sense the ecstasy of horror. I am not afraid. Whatever it is that is
+dragging me down, it is not evil. My sensations are not normal.
+
+For the benefit of my successor, if there is to be one, I have made an
+elaborate detail of notes and comments. After all, the whole thing,
+when brought down to the end, must fall to the function of science.
+When Hobart arrives, whatever my fate, he will find a complete and
+comprehensive record of my sensations. I shall keep it up to the end.
+Such notes being dry and sometimes confusing I have purposely omitted
+them from this narrative. But there are some things that must be
+given to the world. I shall pick out the salient parts and give them
+chronologically.
+
+Jerome stayed with me. Rather I should say he spent the nights with me.
+Most of the time he was on the elusive trail of the Rhamda. From the
+minute of our conversation with Kennedy he held to one conviction. He
+was positive of that chemist back in the nineties. He was certain of
+the Rhamda. Whatever the weirdness of his theory it would certainly bear
+investigation. When he was not on the trail over the city he was at work
+in the cellar. Here we worked together.
+
+We dug up the concrete floor and did a bit of mining. I was interested
+in the formation.
+
+From the words of Budge Kennedy the bit of jewel had been discovered at
+the original excavation. We found the blue clay that he spoke of, but
+nothing else. Jerome dissected every bit of earth carefully. We have
+spent many hours in that cellar.
+
+But most of the time I was alone. When not too worn with the loneliness
+and weariness I worked at my notes. It has been a hard task from the
+beginning. Inertia, lack of energy! How much of our life is impulse!
+What is the secret that backs volition? It has been will--will-power
+from the beginning. I must thank my ancestors. Without the strength and
+character built up through generations, I would have succumbed utterly.
+
+Even as it is I sometimes think I am wrong in following the dictates of
+Watson. If I were only sure. I have pledged my word and my honour. What
+did he know? I need all the reserve of character to hold up against
+the Nervina. From the beginning she has been my opponent. What is her
+interest in the Blind Spot and myself? Who is she? I cannot think of
+her as evil. She is too beautiful, too tender; her concern is so real.
+Sometimes I think of her as my protector, that it is she, and she alone
+who holds back the power which would engulf me. Once she made a personal
+appeal.
+
+Jerome had gone. I was alone. I had dragged myself to the desk and my
+notes and data. It was along toward spring and in the first shadows of
+the early evening. I had turned on the lights. It was the first labour
+I had done for several days. I had a great deal of work before me. I
+had begun sometime before to take down my temperature. I was careful of
+everything now, as much as I could be under the depression. So far I had
+discerned nothing that could be classed as pathological.
+
+There is something subtle about the Nervina. She is much like the
+Rhamda. Perhaps they are the same. I hear no sound, I have no notion of
+a door or entrance. Watson had said of the Rhamda, "Sometimes you see
+him, sometimes you don't." It is so with the Nervina. I remember only
+my working at the data and the sudden movement of a hand upon my desk--a
+girl's hand. It was bewildering. I looked up.
+
+I had not seen her since that night. It was now eight months--did I not
+know, I would have recorded them as years. Her expression was a bit more
+sad--and beautiful. The same wonderful glow of her eyes, night-black and
+tender; the softness that comes from passion, and love, and virtue. The
+same wistful droop of the perfect mouth. What a wondrous mass of hair
+she had! I dropped my pen. She took my hand. I could sense the thrill of
+contact; cool and magnetic.
+
+"Harry!"
+
+She said no more; I did not answer; I was too taken by surprise and
+wonder. I could feel her concern as I would a mother's. What was her
+interest in myself? The contact of her hand sent a strange pulse through
+my vitals; she was so beautiful. Could it be? Watson said he loved her.
+Could I blame him?
+
+"Harry," she asked, "how long is it to continue?"
+
+So that was it. Merely an envoy to accept surrender. I was worn utterly,
+weary of the world, lonely. But I hadn't given up. I had strength still,
+and will enough to hold out to the end. Perhaps I was wrong. If I gave
+her the ring? what then?
+
+"I am afraid," I answered, "that I must go on. I have given my word. It
+has been much harder than I expected. This jewel? What has it to do with
+the Blind Spot?"
+
+"It controls it."
+
+"Does the Rhamda desire it?"
+
+"He does."
+
+"Why doesn't he call for it personally? Why doesn't he make a clean
+breast of it? It would be much easier. He knows and you know that I am
+after Dr. Holcomb and Watson. I might even forego the secret. Would he
+release the doctor?"
+
+"No, Harry, he would not."
+
+"I see. If I gave up the ring it would be merely for my personal safety.
+I am a coward--"
+
+"Oh," she said, "don't say that. You must give the ring to me--not to
+the Rhamda. He must not control the Blind Spot."
+
+"What is the Blind Spot? Tell me."
+
+"Harry," she spoke, "I cannot. It is not for you or any other mortal. It
+is a secret that should never have been uncovered. It might be the end.
+In the hands of the Rhamda it would certainly be the end of mankind."
+
+"Who is the Rhamda? Who are you? You are too beautiful to be merely
+woman. Are you a spirit?"
+
+She pressed my hand ever so slightly. "Do I feel like a spirit? I am
+material as much as you are. We live, see--everything."
+
+"But you are not of this world?"
+
+Her eyes grew sadder; a soft longing.
+
+"Not exactly, Harry, not exactly. It is a long story and a very strange
+one. I may not tell you. It is for your own good. I am your friend"--her
+eyes were moist--"I--don't you see? Oh, I would save you!"
+
+I did not doubt it. Somehow she was like a girl of dreams, pure as an
+angel; her wistfulness only deepened her beauty. It came like a shock
+at the moment. I could love this woman. She was--what was I thinking?
+My guilty mind ran back to Charlotte. I had loved her since boyhood. I
+would be a coward--then a wild fear. Perhaps of jealousy.
+
+"The Rhamda? Is he your husband? You are the same--"
+
+"Oh," she answered, "why do you say it?" Her eyes snapped and she grew
+rigid. "The Rhamda! My husband! If you only knew. I hate him! We are
+enemies. It was he who opened the Blind Spot. I am here because he is
+evil. To watch him. I love your world, I love it all. I would save it. I
+love--"
+
+She dropped her head. Whatever she was, she was not above sobbing.
+
+I touched her hair; it was of the softest texture I have ever seen;
+the lustre was like all the beauty of night woven into silk. She loved,
+loved; I could love--I was on the point of surrender.
+
+"Tell me," I asked, "just one thing more. If I gave you this ring would
+you save the doctor and Chick Watson?"
+
+She raised her head; her eyes glistened; but she did not answer.
+
+"Would you?"
+
+She shook her head. "I cannot," she answered. "That cannot be. I can
+only save you for--for--Charlotte."
+
+Was it vanity in myself? I don't know. It seemed to me that it was hard
+for her to say it. Frankly, I loved her. I knew it. I loved Charlotte. I
+loved them both. But I held to my purpose.
+
+"Are the professor and Watson living?"
+
+"They are."
+
+"Are they conscious?"
+
+She nodded. "Harry," she said, "I can tell you that. They are living and
+conscious. You have seen them. They have only one enemy--the Rhamda.
+But they must never come out of the Blind Spot. I am their friend and
+yours."
+
+A sudden courage came upon me. I remembered my word to Watson. I had
+loved the old professor. I would save them. If necessary I would follow
+to the end. Either myself or Fenton. One of us would solve it!
+
+"I shall keep the ring," I said. "I shall avenge them. Somehow,
+somewhere, I feel that I shall do it. Even if I must follow--"
+
+She straightened at that. Her eyes were frightened.
+
+"Oh," she said, "why do you say it? It must not be! You would perish!
+You shall not do it! I must save you. You must not go alone. Three--it
+may not be. If you go, I go with you. Perhaps--oh, Harry!"
+
+She dropped her head again; her body shook with her sobbing; plainly
+she was a girl. No real man is ever himself in the presence of a woman's
+tears. I was again on the point of surrender. Suddenly she looked up.
+
+"Harry," she spoke sadly, "I have just one thing to ask. You must see
+Charlotte. You must forget me; we can never--you love Charlotte. I have
+seen her; she's a beautiful girl. You haven't written. She is worried.
+Remember what you mean to her happiness. Will you go?"
+
+That I could promise.
+
+"Yes, I shall see Charlotte."
+
+She rose from her chair. I held her hand. Again, as in the restaurant, I
+lifted it to my lips. She flushed and drew it away. She bit her lip. Her
+beauty was a kind I could not understand.
+
+"You must see Charlotte," she said, "and you must do as she says."
+
+With that she was gone. There was a car waiting; the last I saw was its
+winking tail-light dimming into the darkness.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+CHARLOTTE
+
+
+Left alone, I began thinking of Charlotte. I loved her; of that I was
+certain. I could not compare her with the Nervina. She was like myself,
+human. I had known her since boyhood. The other was out of the ether; my
+love for her was something different; she was of dreams and moonbeams;
+there was a film about her beauty, illusion; she was of spirit.
+
+I wrote a note to the detective and left it upon my desk. After that I
+packed a suitcase and hurried to the station. If I was going I would do
+it at once, I could not trust myself too far. This visit had been like
+a breath of air; for the moment I was away from the isolation. The
+loneliness and the weariness! How I dreaded it! I was only free from
+it for a few moments. On the train it came back upon me and in a manner
+that was startling.
+
+I had purchased my ticket. When the conductor came through he passed me.
+He gathered tickets all about me; but he did not notice me. At first I
+paid no attention; but when he had gone through the car several times I
+held up my ticket. He did not stop. It was not until I had touched him
+that he gave me a bit of attention.
+
+"Where have you been sitting?" he asked.
+
+I pointed to the seat. He frowned slightly.
+
+"There?" he asked. "Did you say you were sitting in that seat? Where did
+you get on?"
+
+"At Townsend."
+
+"Queer," he answered; he punched the ticket. "Queer. I passed that seat
+several times. It was empty!"
+
+Empty! It was almost a shock. Could it be that my isolation was becoming
+physical as well as mental? What was this gulf that was widening between
+myself and my fellows?
+
+It was the beginning of another phase. I have noticed it many times; on
+the street, in public places, everywhere. I thread in and out among men.
+Sometimes they see me, sometimes they don't. It is strange. I feel at
+times as though I might be vanishing out of the world!
+
+It was late when I reached my old home; but the lights were still
+burning. My favourite dog, Queen, was on the veranda. As I came up the
+steps she growled slightly, but on recognition went into a series of
+circles about the porch. My father opened the door. I stepped inside. He
+touched me on the shoulder, his jaw dropped.
+
+"Harry!" he exclaimed.
+
+Was it as bad as that? How much meaning may be placed in a single
+intonation! I was weary to the point of exhaustion. The ride upon the
+train had been too much.
+
+My mother came in. For some moments I was busy protesting my health.
+But it was useless; it wasn't until I had partaken of a few of the old
+nostrums that I could placate her.
+
+"Work, work, work, my boy," said my father, "nothing but work. It
+really won't do. You're a shadow. You must take a vacation. Go to the
+mountains; forget your practice for a short time."
+
+I didn't tell them. Why should I? I decided right then it was my own
+battle. It was enough for me without casting the worry upon others. Yet
+I could not see Charlotte without calling on my parents.
+
+As soon as possible I crossed the street to the Fentons'. Someone had
+seen me in town. Charlotte was waiting. She was the same beautiful girl
+I had known so long; the blue eyes, the blonde, wavy mass of hair, the
+laughing mouth and the gladness. But she was not glad now. It was
+almost a repetition of what had happened at home, only here a bit more
+personal. She clung to me almost in terror. I didn't realise I had gone
+down so much. I knew my weariness; but I hadn't thought my appearance
+so dejected. I remembered Watson. He had been wan, pale, forlorn.
+After what brief explanation I could give, I proposed a stroll in the
+moonlight.
+
+It was a full moon; a wonderful night; we walked down the avenue under
+the elm trees. Charlotte was beautiful, and worried; she clung to my
+arm with the eagerness of possession. I could not but compare her
+with Nervina. There was a contrast; Charlotte was fresh, tender,
+affectionate, the girl of my boyhood. I had known her all my life; there
+was no doubt of our love.
+
+Who was the other? She was something higher, out of mystery, out of
+life--almost--out of the moonbeams. I stopped and looked up. The great
+full orb was shining. I didn't know that I spoke.
+
+"Harry," asked Charlotte, "who is the Nervina?"
+
+Had I spoken?
+
+"What do you know about the Nervina?" I asked.
+
+"She has been to see me. She told me. She said you would be here
+tonight. I was waiting. She is very beautiful. I never saw anyone like
+her. She is wonderful!"
+
+"What did she say?"
+
+"She! Oh, Harry. Tell me. I have waited. Something has happened. Tell
+me. You have told me nothing. You are not like the old Harry."
+
+"Tell me about the Nervina. What did she say? Charlotte, tell me
+everything. Am I so much different from the old Harry?"
+
+She clutched at my arm fearfully; she looked into my eyes.
+
+"Oh," she said, "how can you say it? You haven't laughed once. You are
+melancholy; you are pale, drawn, haggard. You keep muttering. You are
+not the old Harry. Is it this Nervina? At first I thought she loved you;
+but she does not. She wanted to know all about you, and about our love.
+She was so interested. What is this danger?"
+
+I didn't answer.
+
+"You must tell me. This ring? She said that you must give it to me. What
+is it?" she insisted.
+
+"Did she ask that? She told you to take the ring? My dear," I asked, "if
+it were the ring and it were so sinister would I be a man to give it to
+my loved one?"
+
+"It would not hurt me."
+
+But I would not. Something warned me. It was a ruse to get it out of my
+possession. The whole thing was haunting, weird, ghostly. Always I could
+hear Watson. I still had a small quota of courage and will-power. I
+clung steadfastly to my purpose.
+
+It was a sad three hours. Poor Charlotte! I shall never forget it. It is
+the hardest task on earth to deny one's loved one.
+
+She had grown into my heart and into its possession. She clung to me
+tenderly, tearfully. I could not tell her. Her feminine instinct sensed
+disaster. In spite of her tears I insisted. When I kissed her goodnight
+she did not speak. But she looked up at me through her tears. It was the
+hardest thing of all for me to bear.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE SHEPHERD
+
+
+When I returned to the city next morning I took my dog. It was a strange
+whim; but one which was to lead to a remarkable development. I have
+always been a lover of dogs. I was lonely. There is a bond between a dog
+and his master. It goes beyond definition; it roots down into nature. I
+was to learn much.
+
+She was an Australian shepherd. She was of a tawny black and bob-tailed
+from birth.
+
+What is the power that lies behind instinct? How far does it go? I had
+a notion that the dog would be outside the sinister clutch that was
+dragging me under.
+
+Happily Jerome was fond of dogs. He was reading. When I entered with
+Queen tugging at the chain he looked up. The dog recognised the heart
+of the man; when he stooped to pet her she moved her stub tail in an
+effusion of affectionate acceptance. Jerome had been reading Le Bon's
+theory on the evolution of force. His researches after the mystery had
+led him into the depths of speculation; he had become quite a scholar.
+After our first greeting I unhooked the chain and let Queen have the
+freedom of the house. I related what had happened. The detective closed
+the book and sat down. The dog waited a bit for further petting; but
+missing that she began sniffing about the room. There was nothing
+strange about it of course. I myself paid not the slightest attention.
+But the detective was watching. While I was telling my story he was
+following every movement of the shepherd. Suddenly he held up one
+finger. I turned.
+
+It was Queen. A low growl, guttural and suspicious. She was standing
+about a foot from the portieres that separated the library from the
+other room--where we had lost Watson, and where Jerome had had his
+experience with the old lady. Tense and rigid, one forepaw held up
+stealthily, her stub tail erect and the hair along her back bristled.
+Again the low growl. I caught Jerome's eyes. It was queer.
+
+"What is it, Queen?" I spoke.
+
+At the sound of my voice she wagged her tail and looked round, then
+stepped between the curtains. Just her head. She drew back; her lips
+drawn from her teeth, snarling. She was rigid, alert, vitalised. Somehow
+it made me cold. She was a brave dog; she feared nothing. The detective
+stepped forward and pulled the curtains apart. The room was empty. We
+looked into each other's faces. What is there to instinct? What is its
+range? We could see nothing.
+
+But not to the dog. Her eyes glowed. Hate, fear, terror, her whole body
+rigid.
+
+"I wonder," I said. I stepped into the room. But I hadn't counted on the
+dog. With a yelp she was upon me, had me by the calf of the leg and was
+drawing me back. She stepped in front of me; a low, guttural growl of
+warning. But there was nothing in that room; of that we were certain.
+
+"Beats me," said the detective. "How does she know? Wonder if she would
+stop me?" He stepped forward. It was merely a repetition. She caught
+him by the trouser-leg and drew him back. She crowded us away from the
+curtain. It was almost magnetic. We could see nothing, neither could we
+feel; was it possible that the dog could see beyond us? The detective
+spoke first:
+
+"Take her out of the room. Put her in the hall; tie her up."
+
+"What's the idea?"
+
+"Merely this; I am going to examine the room. No, I am not afraid. I'll
+be mighty glad if it does catch me. Anything so long as I get results."
+
+But it did us no good. We examined the room many times that night; both
+of us. In the end there was nothing, only the weirdness and uncertainty
+and the magnetic undercurrent which we could feel, but could not fathom.
+When we called in the dog she stepped to the portieres and commenced her
+vigil. She crouched slightly behind the curtains, alert, ready, waiting,
+at her post of honour. From that moment she never left the spot except
+under compulsion. We could hear her at all times of the night; the low
+growl, the snarl, the defiance.
+
+But there was a great deal more that we were to learn from the dog. It
+was Jerome who first called my attention. A small fact at the beginning;
+but of a strange sequence. This time it was the ring. Queen had the
+habit that is common to most dogs; she would lick my hand to show her
+affection. It was nothing in itself; but for one fact--she always chose
+the left hand. It was the detective who first noticed it. Always and
+every opportunity she would lick the jewel. We made a little test to try
+her. I would remove the ring from one hand to the other; then hold it
+behind me. She would follow.
+
+It was a strange fact; but of course not inexplicable. A scent or the
+attraction of taste might account for it. However, these little tests
+led to a rather remarkable discovery.
+
+One night we had called the dog from her vigil. As usual she came to
+the jewel; by chance I pressed the gem against her head. It was a mere
+trifle; yet it was of consequence. A few minutes before I had dropped a
+handkerchief on the opposite side of the room; I was just thinking about
+picking it up. It was only a small thing, yet it put us on the track
+of the gem's strangest potency. The dog walked to the handkerchief. She
+brought it back in her mouth. At first I took it for a pure coincidence.
+I repeated the experiment with a book. The same result. I looked up at
+Jerome.
+
+"What's the matter?" Then when I explained: "The dickens! Try it again."
+
+Over and over again we repeated it, using different articles, pieces of
+which I was certain she didn't know the name. There was a strange bond
+between the gem and the intelligence, some strange force emanating from
+its lustre. On myself it was depressing; on the dog it was life itself.
+At last Jerome had an inspiration.
+
+"Try the Rhamda," he said; "think of him. Perhaps--"
+
+It was most surprising. Certainly it was remarkable. It was too much
+like intelligence; a bit too uncanny. At the instant of the thought the
+dog leaped backward.
+
+Such a strange transformation; she was naturally gentle. In one
+instant she had gone mad. Mad? Not in the literal interpretation; but
+figuratively. She sprang back, snapping; her teeth bared, her hair
+bristled. Her nostrils drawn. With one bound she leaped between the
+curtains.
+
+Jerome jumped up. With an exclamation he drew the portieres. I was
+behind him. The dog was standing at the edge of the room, bristling.
+
+The room was empty. What did she see? What?
+
+One thing was certain. Though we were sure of nothing else we were
+certain of the Rhamda. We could trust the canine's instinct. Every
+previous experiment we had essayed had been crowned with success. We had
+here a fact but no explanation. If we could only put things together and
+extract the law.
+
+It was late when we retired. I could not sleep. The restlessness of the
+dog held back my slumber. She would growl sullenly, then stir about for
+a new position; she was never quite still. I could picture her there
+in the library, behind the curtains, crouched, half resting, half
+slumbering, always watching. I would awaken in the night and listen; a
+low guttural warning, a sullen whine--then stillness. It was the same
+with my companion. We could never quite understand it. Perhaps we were a
+bit afraid.
+
+But one can become accustomed to almost anything. It went on for many
+nights without anything happening, until one night.
+
+It was dark, exceedingly dark, with neither moon nor starlight; one of
+those nights of inky intenseness. I cannot say just exactly what woke
+me. The house was strangely silent and still; the air seemed stretched
+and laden. It was summer. Perhaps it was the heat. I only knew that I
+woke suddenly and blinked in the darkness.
+
+In the next room with the door open I could hear the heavy breathing
+of the detective. A heavy feeling lay against my heart. I had grown
+accustomed to dread and isolation; but this was different. Perhaps
+it was premonition. I do not know. And yet I was terribly sleepy; I
+remember that.
+
+I struck a match and looked at my watch on the bureau--twelve
+thirty-five. No sound--not even Queen--not even a rumble from the
+streets. I lay back and dropped into slumber. Just as I drifted off to
+sleep I had a blurring fancy of sound, guttural, whining, fearful--then
+suddenly drifting into incoherent rumbling phantasms--a dream. I awoke
+suddenly. Someone was speaking. It was Jerome.
+
+"Harry!"
+
+I was frightened. It was like something clutching out of the darkness.
+I sat up. I didn't answer. It wasn't necessary. The incoherence of my
+dream had been external. The library was just below me. I could hear the
+dog pacing to and fro, and her snarling. Snarling? It was just that. It
+was something to arouse terror.
+
+She had never growled like that--I was positive, I could hear her
+suddenly leap back from the curtains. She barked. Never before had she
+come to that. Then a sudden lunge into the other room--a vicious series
+of snapping barks, yelps--pandemonium--I could picture her leaping--at
+what? Then suddenly I leaped out of bed. The barks grew faint, faint,
+fainter--into the distance.
+
+In the darkness I couldn't find the switch. I bumped into Jerome. We
+were lost in our confusion. It was a moment before we could find either
+a match or a switch to turn on the lights. But at last--I shall not
+forget that moment; nor Jerome. He was rigid; one arm held
+aloft, his eyes bulged out. The whole house was full of
+sound--full-toned--vibrant--magnetic. It was the bell.
+
+I jumped for the stairway, but not so quick as Jerome. With three bounds
+we were in the library with the lights on. The sound was running down
+to silence. We tore down the curtains and rushed into the room. It was
+empty!
+
+There was not even the dog. Queen had gone! In a vain rush of grief I
+began calling and whistling. It was an overwhelming moment. The poor,
+brave shepherd. She had seen it and rushed into its face.
+
+It was the last night I was to have Jerome. We sat up until daylight.
+For the thousandth time we went over the house in detail, but there was
+nothing. Only the ring. At the suggestion of the detective I touched the
+match to the sapphire. It was the same. The colour diminishing, and the
+translucent corridors deepening into the distance; then the blur and the
+coming of shadows--the men, Watson and the professor--and my dog.
+
+Of the men, only the heads showed; but the dog was full figure; she was
+sitting, apparently on a pedestal, her tongue was lolling out of her
+mouth and her face of that gentle intelligence which only the Australian
+shepherd is heir to. That is all--no more--nothing. If we had hoped to
+discover anything through her medium we were disappointed. Instead of
+clearing up, the whole thing had grown deeper.
+
+I have said that it was the last night I was to have Jerome. I didn't
+know it then. Jerome went out early in the morning. I went to bed. I
+was not afraid in the daylight. I was certain now that the danger was
+localised. As long as I kept out of that apartment I had nothing to
+fear. Nevertheless, the thing was magnetic. A subtle weirdness pervaded
+the building. I did not sleep soundly. I was lonely; the isolation was
+crowding on me. In the afternoon I stepped out on the streets.
+
+I have spoken of my experience with the conductor. On this day I had the
+certainty of my isolation; it was startling. In the face of what I was
+and what I had seen it was almost terrifying. It was the first time
+I thought of sending for Hobart. I had thought I could hold out. The
+complete suddenness of the thing set me to thinking. I thought of
+Watson. It was the last phase, the feebleness, the wanness, the inertia!
+He had been a far stronger man than I in the beginning.
+
+I must cable Fenton. While I had still an ego in the presence of men, I
+must reach out for help. It was a strange thing and inexplicable. I was
+not invisible. Don't think that. I simply did not individualise. Men
+didn't notice me--till I spoke. As if I was imperceptibly losing the
+essence of self. I still had some hold on the world. While it remained I
+must get word to Hobart. I did not delay. Straight to the office I went
+and paid for the cable.
+
+CANNOT HOLD OUT MUCH LONGER. COME AT ONCE.--HARRY.
+
+I was a bit ashamed. I had hoped. I had counted upon myself. I
+had trusted in the full strength of my individuality. I had been
+healthy--strong--full blooded. On the fullness of vitality one would
+live forever. There is no tomorrow. It was not a year ago. I was eighty.
+It had been so with Watson. What was this subtle thing that ate into
+one's marrow? I had read of banshees, lemures and leprechauns; they were
+the ghosts and the fairies of ignorance but they were not like this. It
+was impersonal, hidden, inexorable. It was mystery. And I believed that
+it was Nature.
+
+I know it now. Even as I write I can sense the potency of the force
+about me. Some law, some principle, some force that science has not
+uncovered.
+
+What is that law that shall bridge the chaos between the mystic and the
+substantial? I am standing on the bridge; and I cannot see it. What is
+the great law that was discovered by Dr. Holcomb? Who is the Rhamda? Who
+is the Nervina?
+
+Jerome has not returned. I cannot understand it. It has been a week. I
+am living on brandy--not much of anything else--I am waiting for Fenton.
+I have taken all my elaborations and notes and put them together.
+Perhaps I--
+
+(This is the last of the strange document left by Harry Wendel. The
+following memorandum is written by Charlotte Fenton.)
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+CHARLOTTE'S STORY
+
+
+I do not know. It is hard to write after what has happened.
+
+Hobart says that it is why I am to write it. It is to be a plain
+narrative. Besides, he is very busy and cannot do it himself. There must
+be some record. I shall do my best and hold out of my writing as much as
+I can of my emotion. I shall start with the Nervina.
+
+It was the first I knew; the first warning. Looking back I cannot but
+wonder. No person I think who has ever seen the Nervina can do much
+else; she is so beautiful! Beautiful? Why do I say it? I should be
+jealous and I should hate her. Yet I do not. Why is it?
+
+It was about eight months after Hobart had left for South America. I
+remember those eight months as the longest in my life; because of Harry.
+I am a girl and I like attention; all girls do. Ordinarily he would come
+over every fortnight at least. After Hobart had gone he came once only,
+and of course I resented the inattention.
+
+It seemed to me that no business could be of enough importance if he
+really loved me. Even his letters were few and far between. What he
+wrote were slow and weary and of an undertone that I could not fathom.
+I--loved Harry. I could not understand it. I had a thousand fearful
+thoughts and jealousies; but they were feminine and in no way
+approximated even the beginning of the truth. Inattention was not like
+Harry. It was not until the coming of the Nervina that I was afraid.
+
+Afraid? I will not say that--exactly. It was rather a suspicion, a queer
+undercurrent of wonder and doubt. The beauty of the girl, her interest
+in Harry and myself, her concern over this ring, put me a bit on guard.
+I wondered what this ring had to do with Harry Wendel.
+
+She did not tell me in exact words or in literal explanation; but she
+managed to convey all too well a lurking impression of its sinister
+potency. It was something baleful, something the very essence of which
+would break down the life of one who wore it. Harry had come into its
+possession by accident and she would save him. She had failed through
+direct appeal. Now she had come to me. She did not say a word of the
+Blind Spot.
+
+And the next day came Harry. It was really a shock, though I had been
+warned by the girl. He was not Harry at all, but another. His eyes were
+dim and they had lost their lustre; when they did show light at all,
+it was a kind that was a bit fearful. He was wan, worn, and shrunk to a
+shadow, as if he had gone through a long illness.
+
+He said he had not been sick. He maintained that he was quite well
+physically. And on his finger was the ring of which the girl had spoken.
+Its value must have been incalculable. Wherever he moved his hand its
+blue flame cut a path through the darkness. But he said nothing about
+it. I waited and wondered and was afraid. It was not until our walk
+under the elm trees that it was mentioned.
+
+It was a full moon; a wonderful, mellow moon of summer. He stopped
+suddenly and gazed up at the orb above us. It seemed to me that his
+mind was wandering, he held me closely--tenderly. He was not at all
+like Harry. There was a missing of self, of individuality; he spoke in
+abstractions.
+
+"The maiden of the moonbeams?" he said. "What can it mean?"
+
+And then I asked him. He has already told of our conversation. It was
+the ring of which the Nervina had told me. It had to do with the Blind
+Spot--the great secret that had taken Dr. Holcomb. He would not give it
+to me. I worked hard, for even then I was not afraid of it. Something
+told me--I must do it to save him. It was weird, and something I could
+not understand--but I must do it for Harry.
+
+I failed. Though he was broken in every visible way there was one thing
+as strong as ever--his honour. He was not afraid; he had been the same
+in his boyhood. When we parted that night he kissed me. I shall never
+forget how long he looked into my eyes, nor his sadness. That is all.
+The next morning he left for San Francisco.
+
+And then came the end. A message; abrupt and sudden. It was some time
+after and put a period to my increasing stress and worry. It read:
+
+CITY OF PERU DOCKS TONIGHT AT EIGHT. MEET ME AT THE PIER. HOBART
+COMING,--HARRY.
+
+It was a short message and a bit twisted. In ordinary circumstances he
+would have motored down and brought me back to greet Hobart. It was a
+bit strange that I should meet him at the pier. However, I had barely
+time to get to the city if I hurried.
+
+I shall never forget that night.
+
+It was dark when I reached San Francisco. I was a full twenty minutes
+early at the pier. A few people were waiting. I looked about for Harry.
+He was to meet me and I was certain that I would find him. But he was
+not there. Of course there was still time. He was sure to be on hand to
+greet Hobart.
+
+Nevertheless, I had a vague mistrust. Since that strange visit I had not
+been sure. Harry wasn't well. There was something to this mystery that
+he had not told me. Why had he asked me to meet him at the pier? Why
+didn't he come? When the boat docked and he was still missing I was
+doubly worried.
+
+Hobart came down the gangplank. He was great, strong, healthy, and it
+seemed to me in a terrible hurry. He scanned the faces hurriedly and ran
+over to me.
+
+"Where's Harry?" He kissed me and in the same breath repeated, "Where's
+Harry?"
+
+"Oh, Hobart!" I exclaimed. "What's the matter with Harry? Tell me. It's
+something terrible!"
+
+He was afraid. Plainly I could see that! There were lines of anxiety
+about his eyes. He clutched me by the arm and drew me away.
+
+"He was to meet me here," I said. "He didn't come. He was to meet me
+here! Oh, Hobart, I saw him some time ago. He was--it was not Harry at
+all! Do you know anything about it?"
+
+For a minute he stood still, looking at me. I had never seen Hobart
+frightened; but at that moment there was that in his eyes which I could
+not understand. He caught me by the arm and started out almost at a
+run. There were many people and we dodged in and out among them. Hobart
+carried a suitcase. He hailed a taxi.
+
+I don't know how I got into the car. It was a blur. I was frightened.
+Some terrible thing had occurred, and Hobart knew it. I remember a few
+words spoken to the driver. "Speed, speed, no limit; never mind the
+law--and Chatterton Place!" After that the convulsive jerking over the
+cobbled streets, a climbing over hills and twisted corners. And Hobart
+at my side. "Faster--faster," he was saying; "faster! My lord, was there
+ever a car so slow! Harry! Harry!" I could hear him breathing a prayer.
+Another hill; the car turned and came suddenly to a stop! Hobart leaped
+out.
+
+A sombre two-storey house; a light burning in one of the windows, a dim
+light, almost subdued and uncanny. I had never seen anything so lonely
+as that light; it was grey, uncertain, scarcely a flicker. Perhaps
+it was my nerves. I had scarcely strength to climb the steps. Hobart
+grasped the knob and thrust open the door; I can never forget it.
+
+It is hard to write. The whole thing! The room; the walls lined with
+books; the dim, pale light, the faded green carpet, and the man. Pale,
+worn, almost a shadow of his former self. Was it Harry Wendel? He had
+aged forty years. He was stooped, withered, exhausted. A bottle
+of brandy on the desk before him. In his weak, thin hand an empty
+wineglass. The gem upon his finger glowed with a flame that was almost
+wicked; it was blue, burning, giving out sparkles of light--like a
+colour out of hell. The path of its light was unholy--it was too much
+alive.
+
+We both sprang forward. Hobart seized him by the shoulders.
+
+"Harry, old boy; Harry! Don't you know us? It's Hobart and Charlotte."
+
+It was terrible. He didn't seem to know. He looked right at us. But he
+spoke in abstractions.
+
+"Two," he said. And he listened. "Two! Don't you hear it?" He caught
+Hobart by the arm. "Now, listen. Two! No, it's three. Did I say three?
+Can't you hear? It's the old lady. She speaks out of the shadows. There!
+There! Now, listen. She has been counting to me. Always she says three!
+Soon it will be four."
+
+What did he mean? What was it about? Who was the old lady? I looked
+round. I saw no one. Hobart stooped over. Harry began slowly to
+recognise us. It was as if his mind had wandered and was coming back
+from a far place. He spoke slowly; his words were incoherent and
+rambling.
+
+"Hobart," he said; "you know her. She is the maiden out of the
+moonbeams. The Rhamda, he is our enemy. Hobart, Charlotte. I know so
+much. I cannot tell you. You are two hours late. It's a strange thing. I
+have found it and I think I know. It came suddenly. The discovery of the
+great professor. Why didn't you come two hours earlier? We might have
+conquered."
+
+He dropped his head upon his arms; then as suddenly he looked up. He
+drew the ring from his finger.
+
+"Give it to Charlotte," he said. "It won't hurt her. Don't touch it
+yourself. Had I only known. Watson didn't know--"
+
+He straightened; he was tense, rigid, listening.
+
+"Do you hear anything? Listen! Can you hear? It's the old lady. There--"
+
+But there was not a sound; only the rumble of the streets, the ticking
+of the clock, and our heart-beats. Again he went through the counting.
+
+"Hobart!"
+
+"Yes, Harry."
+
+"And Charlotte! The ring--ah, yet it was there, Keep it. Give it to no
+one. Two hours ago we might have conquered. But I had to keep the ring.
+It was too much, too powerful; a man may not wear it. Charlotte"--he
+took my hand and ran the ring upon my finger. "Poor Charlotte. Here is
+the ring. The most wonderful--"
+
+Again he dropped over. He was weak--there was something going from him
+minute by minute.
+
+"Water," he asked. "Hobart, some water."
+
+It was too pitiful. Harry, our Harry--come to a strait like this! Hobart
+rushed to another room with the tumbler. I could hear him fumbling. I
+stooped over Harry. But he held up his hand.
+
+"No, Charlotte, no. You must not. If--"
+
+He stopped. Again the strange attention, as if he was listening to
+something far off in the distance; the pupils of his hollow, worn,
+lustreless eyes were pin-points. He stood on his feet rigid, quivering;
+then he held up his hand. "Listen!"
+
+But there was nothing. It was just as before; merely the murmuring of
+the city night, and the clock ticking.
+
+"It's the dog! D'you hear her? And the old lady. Now listen, 'Two!
+Now there are two! Three! Three! Now there are three!' There--now." He
+turned to me. "Can you hear it, Charlotte? No? How strange. Perhaps--"
+He pointed to the corner of the room. "That paper. Will you--"
+
+I shall always go over that moment. I have thought over it many times
+and have wondered at the sequence. Had I not stepped across the library,
+what would have happened?
+
+What was it.
+
+I had stooped to pick up the piece of paper. There came a queer,
+cracking, snapping sound, almost audible, I have a strange recollection
+of Harry standing up by the side of the desk--a flitting
+vision. An intuition of some terrible force. It was out of
+nothing--nowhere--approaching. I turned about. And I saw it--the dot of
+blue.
+
+Blue! That is what it was at first. Blue and burning, like the flame
+of a million jewels centred into a needlepoint. On the ceiling directly
+above Harry's head. It was scintillating, coruscating, opalescent; but
+it was blue most of all. It was the colour of life and of death; it was
+burning, throbbing, concentrated. I tried to scream. But I was frozen
+with horror. The dot changed colour and went to a dead-blue. It seemed
+to grow larger and to open. Then it turned to white and dropped like a
+string of incandescence, touching Harry on the head.
+
+What was it? It was all so sudden. A door flung open and a swish of
+rushing silk. A woman! A beautiful girl! The Nervina! It was she!
+
+Never have I seen anyone like her. She was so beautiful. In her face all
+the compassion a woman is heir to. For scarcely a second she stopped.
+
+"Charlotte," she called. "Charlotte--oh, why didn't you save him! He
+loves you!" Then she turned to Harry. "It shall not be. He shall not go
+alone. I shall save him, even beyond--"
+
+With that she rushed upon Harry. It was all done in an instant. Her arms
+were outstretched to the dimming form of Harry and the incandescence.
+The splendid impassioned girl. Their forms intermingled. A blur of her
+beautiful body and Harry's wan, weary face. A flash of light, a thread
+of incandescence, a quiver--and they were gone.
+
+The next I knew was the strong arms of my brother Hobart. He gave me the
+water he had fetched for Harry. He was terribly upset, but very calm. He
+held the glass up to my lips. He was speaking.
+
+"Don't worry. Don't worry. I know now. I think I know. I was just in
+time to see them go. I heard the bell. Harry is safe. It is the Nervina.
+I shall get Harry. We'll solve the Blind Spot."
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+HOBART FENTON TAKES UP THE TALE
+
+
+Right here at the outset, I had better make a clean breast of something
+which the reader will very soon suspect, anyhow: I am a plain, unpoetic,
+blunt-speaking man, trained as a civil engineer, and in most respects
+totally dissimilar from the man who wrote the first account of the Blind
+Spot.
+
+Harry had already touched upon this. He came of an artistic family. I
+think he must have taken up law in the hope that the old saying would
+prove true: "The only certain thing about law is its uncertainty." For
+he dearly loved the mysterious, the unknowable; he liked uncertainty for
+its excitement: and it is a mighty good thing that he was honest, for he
+would have made a highly dangerous crook.
+
+Observe that I use the past tense in referring to my old friend. I do
+this in the interests of strict, scientific accuracy, to satisfy those
+who would contend that, having utterly vanished from sight and sound of
+man, Harry Wendel is no more.
+
+But in my own heart is the firm conviction that he is still very much
+alive.
+
+Within an hour of his astounding disappearance, my sister, Charlotte,
+and I made our way to an hotel; and despite the terrible nature of what
+had happened, we managed to get a few hours rest. The following morning
+Charlotte declared herself quite strong enough to discuss the situation.
+We lost no time.
+
+It will be remembered that I had spent nearly the whole of the preceding
+year in South America, putting through an irrigation scheme. Thus, I
+knew little of what had occurred in that interval. On the other hand,
+Harry and I had never seen fit to take Charlotte into our confidence as,
+I now see, we should have done.
+
+So we fairly pounced upon the manuscript which Harry had left behind.
+And by the time we had finished reading it, I for one, had reached one
+solid conclusion.
+
+"I'm convinced," I said, "that the stranger--Rhamda Avec--is an
+out-and-out villain. Despite his agreeable ways, I think he was solely
+and deliberately to blame for Professor Holcomb's disappearance.
+Consequently, this Rhamda is, in himself, a very valuable clue as to
+Harry's present predicament."
+
+Referring to Harry's notes, I pointed out the fact that, although Avec
+had often been seen on the streets of San Francisco, yet the police had
+never been able to lay hands on him. This seemed to indicate that
+the man might possess the power of actually making himself visible or
+invisible, at will.
+
+"Only"--I was careful to add--"understand, I don't rank him as a
+magician, or sorcerer; nothing like that. I'd rather think that he's
+merely in possession of a scientific secret, no more wonderful in
+itself than, say, wireless. He's merely got hold of it in advance of the
+others; that's all."
+
+"Then you think that the woman, too, is human?"
+
+"The Nervina?" I hesitated. "Perhaps you know more of this part of the
+thing than I do."
+
+"I only know"--slowly--"that she came and told me that Harry was soon to
+call. And somehow, I never felt jealous of her, Hobart." Then she added:
+"At the same time, I can understand that Harry might--might have fallen
+in love with her. She--she was very beautiful."
+
+Charlotte is a brave girl. She kept her voice as steady as my own.
+
+We next discussed the disappearance of Chick Watson. These details are
+already familiar to the reader of Harry's story; likewise what happened
+to Queen, his Australian shepherd. Like the other vanishings, it was
+followed by a single stroke on that prodigious, invisible bell--what
+Harry calls "The Bell of the Blind Spot." And he has already mentioned
+my opinion, that this phenomenon signifies the closing of the portal of
+the unknown--the end of the special conditions which produce the bluish
+spot on the ceiling, the incandescent streak of light, and the vanishing
+of whoever falls into the affected region. The mere fact that no trace
+of the bell ever was found has not shaken my opinion.
+
+And thus we reached the final disappearance, that which took away Harry.
+Charlotte contrived to keep her voice as resolute as before, as she
+said:
+
+"He and the Nervina vanished together. I turned round just as she rushed
+in, crying out, 'I can't let you go alone! I'll save you, even beyond.'
+That's all she said, before--it happened."
+
+"You saw nothing of the Rhamda then?"
+
+"No."
+
+And we had neither seen nor heard of him since. Until we got in touch
+with him, one important clue as to Harry's fate was out of our reach.
+There remained to us just one thread of hope--the ring, which Charlotte
+was now wearing on her finger.
+
+I lit a match and held it to the face of the gem. As happened many times
+before, the stone exhibited its most astounding quality. As soon as
+faintly heated, the surface at first clouded, then cleared in a curious
+fashion, revealing a startling distinct, miniature likeness of the four
+who had vanished into the Blind Spot.
+
+I make no attempt to explain this. Somehow or other, that stone
+possesses a telescopic quality which brings to a focus, right in front
+of the beholder's eyes, a tiny "close-up" of our vanished friends. Also,
+the gem magnifies what it reveals, so that there is not the slightest
+doubt that Dr. Holcomb, Chick Watson, Queen and Harry Wendel are
+actually reproduced--I shall not say, contained--in that gem. Neither
+shall I say that they are reflected; they are simply reproduced there.
+
+Also, it should be understood that their images are living. Only the
+heads and shoulders of the men are to be seen; but there is animation
+of the features, such as cannot be mistaken. Granted that these four
+vanished in the Blind Spot--whatever that is--and granted that this ring
+is some inexplicable window or vestibule between that locality and this
+commonplace world of ours, then, manifestly, it would seem that all four
+are still alive.
+
+"I am sure of it!" declared Charlotte, managing to smile, wistfully,
+at the living reproduction of her sweetheart. "And I think Harry did
+perfectly right, in handing it to me to keep."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Well, if for no other reason than because it behaves so differently
+with me, than it did with him.
+
+"Hobart, I am inclined to think that this fact is very significant. If
+Chick had only known of it, he wouldn't have insisted that Harry should
+wear it; and then--"
+
+"Can't be helped," I interrupted quickly. "Chick didn't know; he was
+only certain that someone--SOMEONE--must wear the ring; that it mustn't
+pass out of the possession of humans. Moreover, much as Rhamda Avec may
+desire it--and the Nervina, too--neither can secure it through the use
+of force. Nobody knows why."
+
+Charlotte shivered. "I'm afraid there's something spooky about it, after
+all."
+
+"Nothing of the sort," with a conviction that has never left me. "This
+ring is a perfectly sound fact, as indisputable as the submarine.
+There's nothing supernatural about it; for that matter, I personally
+doubt if there's ANYTHING supernatural. Every phenomenon which seems,
+at first, so wonderful, becomes commonplace enough as soon as explained.
+Isn't it true that you yourself are already getting used to that ring?"
+
+"Ye--es," reluctantly. "That is, partly. If only it were someone other
+than Harry!"
+
+"Of course," I hurried to say, "I only wanted to make it clear that
+we haven't any witchcraft to deal with. This whole mystery will become
+plain as day, and that damned soon!"
+
+"You've got a theory?"--hopefully.
+
+"Several; that's the trouble!" I had to admit. "I don't know which is
+best to follow out.--It may be a spiritualistic thing after all. Or
+it may fall under the head of 'abnormal psychology'. Nothing but
+hallucinations, in other words."
+
+"Oh, that won't do!"--evidently distressed. "I know what I saw! I'd
+doubt my reason if I thought I'd only fancied it!"
+
+"So would I. Well, laying aside the spiritualistic theory, there remains
+the possibility of some hitherto undiscovered scientific secret. And
+if the Rhamda is in possession of it, then the matter simmers down to a
+plain case of villainy."
+
+"But how does he do it?"
+
+"That's the whole question. However, I'm sure of this"--I was fingering
+the ring as I spoke. The reproduction of our friends had faded, now,
+leaving that dully glowing pale blue light once more. "This ring is
+absolutely real; it's no hallucination. It performs as well in broad
+daylight as in the night; no special conditions needed. It's neither a
+fraud nor an illusion.
+
+"In short, this ring is merely a phenomenon which science has not YET
+explained! That it can and will be explained is strictly up to us! Once
+we understand its peculiar properties, we can mighty soon rescue Harry!"
+
+And it was just then that a most extraordinary thing occurred. It
+happened so very unexpectedly, so utterly without warning, that it makes
+me shaky to this day whenever I recall it.
+
+From the gem on Charlotte's finger--or rather, from the air surrounding
+the ring--came an unmistakable sound. We saw nothing whatever; we only
+heard. And it was clear, as loud and as startling as though it had
+occurred right in the room where we were discussing the situation.
+
+It was the sharp, joyous bark of a dog.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE HOUSE OF MIRACLES
+
+
+Looking back over what has just been written, I am sensible of a
+profound gratitude. I am grateful, both because I have been given the
+privilege of relating these events, and because I shall not have to
+leave this wilderness of facts for someone else to explain.
+
+Really, if I did not know that I shall have the pleasure of piecing
+together these phenomena and of setting my finger upon the comparatively
+simple explanation; if I had to go away and leave this account
+unfinished, a mere collection of curiosity-provoking mysteries, I should
+not speak at all. I should leave the whole affair for another to finish,
+as it ought to be finished.
+
+All of which, it will soon appear, I am setting forth largely in order
+to brace and strengthen myself against what I must now relate.
+
+Before resuming, however, I should mention one detail which Harry was
+too modest to mention. He was--or is--unusually good-looking. I don't
+mean to claim that he possessed any Greek-god beauty; such wouldn't gibe
+with a height of five foot seven. No; his good looks were due to the
+simple outward expression, through his features, of a certain noble
+inward quality which would have made the homeliest face attractive.
+Selfishness will spoil the handsomest features; unselfishness will
+glorify.
+
+Moreover, simply because he had given his word to Chick Watson that he
+would wear the ring, Harry took upon himself the most dangerous task
+that any man could assume, and he had lost. But had he known in advance
+exactly what was going to happen to him, he would have stuck to his
+word, anyhow. And since there was a sporting risk attached to it, since
+the thing was not perfectly sure to end tragically, he probably enjoyed
+the greater part of his experience.
+
+But I'm not like that. Frankly, I'm an opportunist; essentially, a
+practical sort of fellow. I have a great admiration for idealists, but
+a much greater admiration for results. For instance, I have seldom given
+my word, even though the matter is unimportant; for I will cheerfully
+break my word if, later on, it should develop that the keeping of my
+word would do more harm than good.
+
+I realise perfectly well that it is dangerous ground to tread upon; yet
+I must refer the reader to what I have accomplished in this world, as
+proof that my philosophy is not as bad as it looks.
+
+I beg nobody's pardon for talking about myself so much at the outset.
+This account will be utterly incomprehensible if I am not understood. My
+method of solving the Blind Spot mystery is, when analysed, merely the
+expression of my personality. My sole idea has been to get RESULTS.
+
+As Harry has put it, a proposition must be reduced to concrete form
+before I will have anything to do with it. If the Blind Spot had been
+a totally occult affair, demanding that the investigation be conducted
+under cover of darkness, surrounded by black velvet, crystal spheres and
+incense; demanding the aid of a clairvoyant or other "medium," I should
+never have gone near it. But as soon as the mystery began to manifest
+itself in terms that I could understand, appreciate and measure, then I
+took interest.
+
+That is why old Professor Holcomb appealed to me; he had proposed that
+we prove the occult by physical means. "Reduce it to the scope of our
+five senses," he had said, in effect. From that moment on I was his
+disciple.
+
+I have told of hearing that sharp, welcoming bark, emitted either from
+the gem or from the air surrounding it. This event took place on the
+front porch of the house at 288 Chatterton Place, as Charlotte and I sat
+there talking it over. We had taken a suite at the hotel, but had come
+to the house of the Blind Spot in order to decide upon a course of
+action. And, in a way, that mysterious barking decided it for us.
+
+We returned to the hotel, and gave notice that we would leave the next
+day. Next, we began to make preparations for moving into the Chatterton
+Place dwelling.
+
+That afternoon, while in the midst of giving orders for furnishings and
+the like, there at the hotel, I was called to the telephone. It was from
+a point outside the building.
+
+"Mr. Fenton?"--in a man's voice. And when I had assured him; "You have
+no reason to recognise my voice. I am--Rhamda Avec."
+
+"The Rhamda! What do you want?"
+
+"To speak with your sister, Mr. Fenton." Odd how very agreeable the
+man's tones! "Will you kindly call her to the telephone?"
+
+I saw no objection. However, when Charlotte came to my side I whispered
+for her to keep the man waiting while I darted out into the corridor and
+slipped downstairs, where the girl at the switchboard put an instrument
+into the circuit for me. Money talks. However--
+
+"My dear child," the voice of Avec was saying, "you do me an injustice.
+I have nothing but your welfare at heart. I assure you that if anything
+should happen to you and your brother while at Chatterton Place, it will
+be through no fault of mine.
+
+"At the same time I can positively assure you that, if you stay away
+from there, no harm will come to either of you; absolutely none! I can
+guarantee that. Don't ask me why; but, if you value your safety, stay
+where you are, or go elsewhere, anywhere other than to the house in
+Chatterton Place."
+
+"I can hardly agree with you, Mr. Avec." Plainly Charlotte was deeply
+impressed with the man's sincerity and earnestness. "My brother's
+judgment is so much better than mine, that I--" and she paused
+regretfully.
+
+"I only wish," with his remarkable gracefulness, "that your intuition
+were as strong as your loyalty to your brother. If it were, you would
+know that I speak the truth when I say that I have only your welfare at
+heart."
+
+"I--I am sorry, Mr. Avec."
+
+"Fortunately, there is one alternative," even more agreeable than
+before. "If you prefer not to take my advice, but cling to your
+brother's decision, you can still avoid the consequences of his
+determination to live in that house. As I say, I cannot prevent harm
+from befalling you, under present conditions; but these conditions
+can be completely altered if you will make a single concession, Miss
+Fenton."
+
+"What is it?" eagerly.
+
+"That you give me the ring!"
+
+He paused for a very tense second. I wished I could see his peculiar,
+young-old face--the face with the inscrutable eyes; the face that urged,
+rather than inspired, both curiosity and confidence.
+
+Then he added:
+
+"I know why you wear it; I realise that the trinket carries some very
+tender associations. And I would never ask such a concession did I not
+know, were your beloved here at this moment, he would endorse every word
+that I say, and--"
+
+"Harry!" cried Charlotte, her voice shaking. "He would tell me to give
+it to you?"
+
+"I am sure of it! It is as though he, through me, were urging you to do
+this!"
+
+For some moments there was silence. Charlotte must have been
+tremendously impressed. It certainly was amazing the degree of
+confidence that Avec's voice induced. I wouldn't have been greatly
+surprised had my sister--
+
+"Mr. Avec," came Charlotte's voice, hesitatingly, almost sorrowfully.
+"I--I would like to believe you; but--but Harry himself gave me the
+ring, and I feel--oh, I'm sure that my brother would never agree to it!"
+
+"I understand." Somehow the fellow managed to conceal any disappointment
+he may have felt. He contrived to show only a deep sympathy for
+Charlotte as he finished: "If I find it possible to protect you, I
+shall, Miss Fenton."
+
+After it was all over, and I returned to the rooms, Charlotte and
+I concluded that it might have been better had we made some sort of
+compromise. If we had made a partial concession, he might have told us
+something of the mystery. We ought to have bargained. We decided that if
+he made any attempt to carry out what I felt sure were merely a thinly
+veiled threat to punish us for keeping the gem, we must not only be
+ready for whatever he might do, but try to trap and keep him as well.
+
+That same day found us back at Chatterton Place. Inside, there was
+altogether too much evidence that the place had been bachelors'
+quarters.
+
+The first step was to clean up. We hired lots of help, and made a quick
+thorough job of both floors. The basement we left untouched. And the
+next day we put a force of painters and decorators to work; whereby
+hangs the tale.
+
+"Mr. Fenton," called the head painter, as he varnished the "trim" in the
+parlour, "I wish you'd come and see what to make of this."
+
+I stepped into the front room. He was pointing to the long piece of
+finish which spanned the doorway leading into the dining-room. And he
+indicated a spot almost in the exact middle, a spot covering a space
+about five inches broad and as high as the width of the wood. In outline
+it was roughly octagonal.
+
+"I've been trying my best," stated Johnson, "to varnish that spot for
+the past five minutes. But I'll be darned if I can do it!"
+
+And he showed what he meant. Every other part of the door glistened
+with freshly applied varnish; but the octagonal region remained dull, as
+though no liquid had ever touched it. Johnson dipped his brush into the
+can, and applied a liberal smear of the fluid to the place. Instantly
+the stuff disappeared.
+
+"Blamed porous piece of wood," eyeing me queerly. "Or--do you think it's
+merely porous, Mr. Fenton?"
+
+For answer I took a brush and repeatedly daubed the place. It was like
+dropping ink on a blotter. The wood sucked up the varnish as a desert
+might suck up water.
+
+"There's about a quart of varnish in the wood already," observed
+Johnson, as I stared and pondered. "Suppose we take it down and weigh
+it?"
+
+Inside of a minute we had that piece of trim down from its place. First,
+I carefully examined the timber framework behind, expecting to see
+traces of the varnish where, presumably, it had seeped through. There
+was no sign. Then I inspected the reverse side of the finish, just
+behind the peculiar spot. I thought I might see a region of wide open
+pores in the grain of the pine. But the back looked exactly the same as
+the front, with no difference in the grain at any place.
+
+Placing the finish right side up, I proceeded to daub the spot some
+more. There was no change in the results. At last I took the can, and
+without stopping, poured a quart and a half of the fluid into that
+paradoxical little area.
+
+"Well I'll be darned!"--very loudly from Johnson. But when I looked up I
+saw his face was white, and his lips shaking.
+
+His nerves were all a-jangle. To give his mind a rest, I sent him for a
+hatchet. When he came back his face had regained its colour. I directed
+him to hold the pine upright, while I, with a single stroke, sank the
+tool into the end of the wood.
+
+It split part way. A jerk, and the wood fell in two halves.
+
+"Well?" from Johnson, blankly.
+
+"Perfectly normal wood, apparently." I had to admit that it was
+impossible to distinguish the material which constituted the peculiar
+spot from that which surrounded it.
+
+I sent Johnson after more varnish. Also, I secured several other fluids,
+including water, milk, ink, and machine oil. And when the painter
+returned we proceeded with a very thorough test indeed.
+
+Presently it became clear that we were dealing with a phenomenon of the
+Blind Spot. All told, we poured about nine pints of liquid into an area
+of about twenty square inches; all on the outer surface, for the
+split side would absorb nothing. And to all appearances we might have
+continued to pour indefinitely.
+
+Ten minutes later I went down into the basement to dispose of some
+rubbish. (Charlotte didn't know of this defection in our housekeeping.)
+It was bright sunlight outside. Thanks to the basement windows, I needed
+no artificial luminant. And when my gaze rested upon the ground directly
+under the parlour, I saw something there that I most certainly had never
+noticed before.
+
+The fact is, the basement at 288 Chatterton Place never did possess
+anything worthy of special notice. Except for the partition which
+Harry Wendel and Jerome, the detective, were the first in years to
+penetrate--except for that secret doorway, there was nothing down there
+to attract attention. To be sure, there was a quantity of up-turned
+earth, the result of Jerome's vigorous efforts to see whether or not
+there was any connection between the Blind Spot phenomena which he had
+witnessed and the cellar. He had secured nothing but an appetite for all
+his digging.
+
+However, it was still too dark for me to identify what I saw at once. I
+stood for a few moments, accustoming my eyes to the light. Except that
+the thing gleamed oddly like a piece of glass, and that it possessed
+a nearly circular outline about two feet across, I couldn't tell much
+about it.
+
+Then I stooped and examined it closely. At once I became conscious of a
+smell which, somehow, I had hitherto not noticed. Small wonder; it
+was as indescribable a smell as one could imagine. It seemed to be a
+combination of several that are not generally combined.
+
+Next instant it flashed upon me that the predominating odour was a
+familiar one. I had been smelling it, in fact, all the morning.
+
+But this did not prevent me from feeling very queer, indeed, as I
+realised what lay before me. A curious chill passed around my shoulders,
+and I scarcely breathed.
+
+At my feet lay a pool, composed of all the various liquids that had been
+poured, upstairs, into that baffling spot in the wood.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+OUT OF THIN AIR
+
+
+Except for the incident just related, when several pints of very real
+fluids were somehow "materialised" at a spot ten feet below where they
+had vanished, nothing worth recording occurred during the first seven
+days of our stay at Chatterton Place.
+
+Seemingly nothing was to come of the Rhamda's warning.
+
+On the other hand we succeeded, during that week, in working a complete
+transformation of the old house. It became one of the brightest spots in
+San Francisco. It cost a good deal of money, all told, but I could well
+afford it. I possessed the hundred thousand with which, I had promised
+myself and Harry, I should solve the Blind Spot. That was what the money
+was for.
+
+On the seventh day after the night of Harry's going, our household was
+increased to three members. For it was then that Jerome returned from
+Nevada, whence he had gone two weeks before on a case.
+
+"Not at all surprised," he commented, when I told him of Harry's
+disappearance. "Sorry I wasn't here. That crook, Rhamda Avec, in at the
+end?"
+
+He gnawed stolidly at his cigar as I told him the story. Then, after
+briefly approving what I had done to brighten the house, he announced:
+
+"Tell you what. I've got a little money out of that Nevada case; I'm
+going to take another vacation and see this thing through."
+
+We shook hands on this, and he moved right into his old room. I felt, in
+fact, mighty glad to have Jerome with us. Although he lacked a regular
+academic training, he was fifteen years my senior, and because of
+contact with a wide variety of people in his work, both well-informed
+and reserved in his judgment. He could not be stampeded; he had courage;
+and, above everything else, he had the burning curiosity of which Harry
+has written.
+
+I was upstairs when he unpacked. And I noted among his belongings a
+large, rather heavy automatic pistol. He nodded when I asked if he was
+willing to use it in this case.
+
+"Although"--unbuttoning his waistcoat--"I don't pin as much faith to
+pistols as I used to.
+
+"The Rhamda is, I'm convinced, the very cleverest proposition that
+ever lived. He has means to handle practically anything in the way of
+resistance." Jerome knew how the fellow had worsted Harry and me. "I
+shouldn't wonder if he can read the mind to some extent; he might be
+able to foresee that I was going to draw a gun, and beat me to it with
+some new weapon of his own."
+
+Having unbuttoned his waistcoat, Jerome then displayed a curious
+contrivance mounted upon his breast. It consisted of a broad metal
+plate, strapped across his shirt, and affixed to this plate was a
+flat-springed arrangement for firing, simultaneously, the contents of
+a revolver cylinder. To show how it worked, Jerome removed the five
+cartridges and then faced me.
+
+"Tell me to throw up my hands," directed he. I did so; his palms flew
+into the air; and with a steely snap the mechanism was released.
+
+Had there been cartridges in it, I should have been riddled, for I
+stood right in front. And I shuddered as I noted the small straps around
+Jerome's wrists, running up his sleeves, so disposed that the act of
+surrendering meant instant death to him who might demand.
+
+"May not be ethical, Fenton"--quietly--"but it certainly is good sense
+to shoot first and explain later when you're handling a chap like Avec.
+Better make preparations, too."
+
+I objected. I pointed out what I have already mentioned; that, together
+with the ring, the Rhamda offered our only clues to the Blind Spot.
+Destroy the man and we would destroy one of our two hopes of rescuing
+our friends from the unthinkable fate that had overtaken them.
+
+"No"--decisively. "We don't want to kill; we want to KEEP him. Bullets
+won't do. I see no reason, however, why you shouldn't load that thing
+with cartridges containing chemicals which would have an effect similar
+to that of a gas bomb. Once you can make him helpless, so that you can
+put those steel bracelets on him, we'll see how dangerous he is with his
+hands behind him!"
+
+"I get you"--thoughtfully. "I know a chemist who will make up
+'Paralysis' gas for me, in the form of gelatine capsules. Shoot 'em at
+the Rhamda; burst upon striking. Safe enough for me, and yet put him out
+of business long enough to fit him with the jewellery."
+
+"That's the idea."
+
+But I had other notions about handling the Rhamda. Being satisfied that
+mere strength and agility were valueless against him, I concluded that
+he, likewise realising this, would be on the lookout for any possible
+trap.
+
+Consequently, if I hoped to keep the man, and force him to tell us what
+we wanted to know, then I must make use of something other than physical
+means. Moreover, I gave him credit for an exceptional amount of insight.
+Call it super-instinct, or what you will, the fellow's intellect was
+transcendental.
+
+Once having decided that it must be a battle of wits I took a step which
+may seem, at first, a little peculiar.
+
+I called upon a certain lady to whom I shall give the name of Clarke,
+since that is not the correct one. I took her fully and frankly into my
+confidence. It is the only way, when dealing with a practitioner. And
+since, like most of my fellow citizens, she had heard something of
+the come and go, elusive habits of our men, together with the Holcomb
+affair, it was easy for her to understand just what I wanted.
+
+"I see," she mused. "You wish to be surrounded by an influence that will
+not so much protect you, as vitalise and strengthen you whenever you
+come in contact with Avec. It will be a simple matter. How far do
+you wish to go?" And thus it was arranged, the plan calling for the
+co-operation of some twenty of her colleagues.
+
+My fellow engineers may sneer, if they like. I know the usual notion:
+that the "power of mind over matter" is all in the brain of the patient.
+That the efforts of the practitioner are merely inductive, and so on.
+
+But I think that the most sceptical will agree that I did quite right in
+seeking whatever support I could get before crossing swords with a man
+as keen as Avec.
+
+Nevertheless, before an opportunity arrived to make use of the
+intellectual machinery which my money had started into operation,
+something occurred which almost threw the whole thing out of gear.
+
+It was the evening after I had returned from Miss Clarke's office. Both
+Charlotte and I had a premonition, after supper, that things were going
+to happen. We all went into the parlour, sat down, and waited.
+
+Presently we started the gramophone. Jerome sat nearest the instrument,
+where he could without rising, lean over and change the records. And all
+three of us recall that the selection being played at the moment was "I
+Am Climbing Mountains," a sentimental little melody sung by a popular
+tenor. Certainly the piece was far from being melancholy, mysterious, or
+otherwise likely to attract the occult.
+
+I remember that we played it twice, and it was just as the singer
+reached the beginning of the final chorus that Charlotte, who sat
+nearest the door, made a quick move and shivered, as though with cold.
+
+From where I sat, near the dining-room door, I could see through into
+the hall. Charlotte's action made me think that the door might have
+become unlatched, allowing a draught to come through. Afterwards she
+said that she had felt something rather like a breeze pass her chair.
+
+In the middle of the room stood a long, massive table, of conventional
+library type. Overhead was a heavy, burnished copper fixture, from which
+a cluster of electric bulbs threw their brilliance upward, so that the
+room was evenly lighted with the diffused rays as reflected from the
+ceiling. Thus, there were no shadows to confuse the problem.
+
+The chorus of the song was almost through when I heard from the
+direction of the table a faint sound, as though someone had drawn
+fingers lightly across the polished oak. I listened; the sound was not
+repeated, at least not loud enough for me to catch it above the music.
+Next moment, however, the record came to an end; Jerome leaned forward
+to put on another, and Charlotte opened her mouth as though to suggest
+what the new selection might be. But she never said the words.
+
+It began with a scintillating iridescence, up on the ceiling, not eight
+feet from where I sat. As I looked the spot grew, and spread, and flared
+out. It was blue like the elusive blue of the gem; only, it was more
+like flame--the flame of electrical apparatus.
+
+Then, down from that blinding radiance there crept, rather than dropped
+a single thread of incandescence, vivid, with a tinge of the colour
+from which it had surged. Down it crept to the floor; it was like an
+irregular streak of lightning, hanging motionless between ceiling and
+floor, just for the fraction of a second. All in total silence.
+
+And then the radiance vanished, disappeared, snuffed out as one might
+snuff out a candle. And in its stead--
+
+There appeared a fourth person in the room.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+THE ROUSING OF A MIND
+
+
+It was a girl. Not the Nervina. No; this girl was quite another person.
+
+Even now I find it curiously hard to describe her. For me to say that
+she was the picture of innocence, of purity, and of youth, is still to
+leave unsaid the secret of her loveliness.
+
+For this stranger, coming out of the thin air into our midst, held me
+with a glorious fascination. From the first I felt no misgivings, such
+as Harry confesses he experienced when he fell under the Nervina's
+charm. I knew as I watched the stranger's wondering, puzzled features,
+that I had never before seen anyone so lovely, so attractive, and so
+utterly beyond suspicion.
+
+It was only later that I noted her amazingly delicate complexion, fair
+as her hair was golden; her deep blue eyes, round face, and the girlish
+supple figure; or her robe-like garments of very soft, white material.
+For she commenced almost instantly to talk.
+
+But we understood only with the greatest of difficulty. She spoke as
+might one who, after living in perfect solitude for a score of years, is
+suddenly called upon to use language. And I remembered that Rhamda Avec
+had told Jerome that he had only BEGUN the use of language.
+
+"Who are you?" was her first remark, in the sweetest voice conceivable.
+But there was both fear and anxiety in her manner. "How--did
+I--get--here?"
+
+"You came out of the Blind Spot!" I spoke, jerking out the words
+nervously and, as I saw, too rapidly. I repeated them more slowly. But
+she did not comprehend.
+
+"The--Blind--Spot," she pondered. "What--is that?"
+
+Next instant, before I could think to warn her, the room trembled with
+the terrific clang of the Blind Spot bell. Just one overwhelming peal;
+no more. At the same time there came a revival of the luminous spot in
+the ceiling. But, with the last tones of the bell, the spot faded to
+nothing.
+
+The girl was pitifully frightened. I sprang to my feet and steadied her
+with one hand--something that I had not dared to do as long as the Spot
+remained open. The touch of my fingers, as she swayed, had the effect of
+bringing her to herself. She listened intelligently to what I said.
+
+"The Blind Spot"--speaking with the utmost care--"is the name we have
+given to a certain mystery. It is always marked by the sound you have
+just heard; that bell always rings when the phenomenon is at an end."
+
+"And--the--phenomenon," uttering the word with difficulty, "what is
+that?"
+
+"You," I returned. "Up till now three human beings have disappeared into
+what we call the Blind Spot. You are the first to be seen coming out of
+it."
+
+"Hobart," interrupted Charlotte, coming to my side. "Let me."
+
+I stepped back, and Charlotte quietly passed an arm round the girl's
+waist. Together they stepped over to Charlotte's chair.
+
+I noted the odd way in which the newcomer walked, unsteadily,
+uncertainly, like a child taking its first steps. I glanced at Jerome,
+wondering if this tallied with what he recalled of the Rhamda; and he
+gave a short nod.
+
+"Don't be frightened," said Charlotte softly, "we are your friends. In
+a way we have been expecting you, and we shall see to it that no harm
+comes to you.
+
+"Which would you prefer--to ask questions, or to answer them?"
+
+"I"--the girl hesitated--"I--hardly--know. Perhaps--you had--better--ask
+something first."
+
+"Good. Do you remember where you came from? Can you recall the events
+just prior to your arrival here?"
+
+The girl looked helplessly from the one to the other of us. She seemed
+to be searching for some clue. Finally she shook her head in a hopeless,
+despairing fashion.
+
+"I can't remember," speaking with a shade less difficulty. "The last
+thing--I recall is--seeing--you three--staring--at me."
+
+This was a poser. To think, a person who, before our very eyes, had
+materialised out of the Blind Spot, was unable to tell us anything about
+it!
+
+Still this lack of memory might be only a temporary condition,
+brought on by the special conditions under which she had emerged; an
+after-effect, as it were, of the semi-electrical phenomena. And it
+turned out that I was right.
+
+"Then," suggested Charlotte, "suppose you ask us something."
+
+The girl's eyes stopped roving and rested definitely, steadily, upon my
+own. And she spoke; still a little hesitantly:
+
+"Who are you? What is your name?"
+
+"Name?" taken wholly by surprise. "Ah--it is Hobart Fenton.
+And"--automatically--"this is my sister Charlotte. The gentleman over
+there is Mr. Jerome."
+
+"I am glad to know you, Hobart," with perfect simplicity and apparent
+pleasure; "and you, Charlotte," passing an arm round my sister's neck;
+"and you--Mister." Evidently she thought the title of "mister" to be
+Jerome's first name.
+
+Then she went on to say, her eyes coming back to mine:
+
+"Why do you look at me that way, Hobart?"
+
+Just like that! I felt my cheeks go hot and cold by turns. For a moment
+I was helpless; then I made up my mind to be just as frank and candid as
+she.
+
+"Because you're so good to look at!" I blurted out. "I never appreciated
+my eyesight as I do right now!"
+
+"I am glad," she returned, simply and absolutely without a trace
+of confusion or resentment. "I know that I rather like to look at
+you--too."
+
+Another stunned silence. And this time I didn't notice any change in the
+temperature of my face; I was too busily engaged in searching the depths
+of those warm blue eyes.
+
+She didn't blush, or even drop her eyes. She smiled, however, a gentle,
+tremulous smile that showed some deep feeling behind her unwavering
+gaze.
+
+I recovered myself with a start, drew my chair up in front of her and
+took both her hands firmly in mine. Whereupon my resolution nearly
+deserted me. How warm and soft, and altogether adorable they were. I
+drew a long breath and began:
+
+"My dear--By the way, what is your name?"
+
+"I"--regretfully, after a moment's thought--"I don't know, Hobart."
+
+"Quite so," as though the fact was commonplace. "We will have to provide
+you with a name. Any suggestions?"
+
+Charlotte hesitated only a second. "Let's call her Ariadne; it was
+Harry's mother's name."
+
+"That's so; fine! Do you like the name--Ariadne?"
+
+"Yes," both pleased and relieved. At the same time she looked oddly
+puzzled, and I could see her lips moving silently as she repeated the
+name to herself.
+
+Not for an instant did I let go of those wonderful fingers. "What I
+want you to know, Ariadne, is that you have come into a world that is,
+perhaps, more or less like the one that you have just left. For all
+I know it is one and the same world, only, in some fashion not yet
+understood, you may have transported yourself to this place. Perhaps
+not.
+
+"Now, we call this a room, a part of the house. Outside is a street.
+That street is one of hundreds in a vast city, which consists of
+a multitude of such houses together with other and vastly larger
+structures. And these structures all rest upon a solid material which we
+call the ground or earth.
+
+"The fact that you understand our language indicates that either you
+have fallen heir to a body and a brain which are thoroughly in tune with
+ours, or else--and please understand that we know very little of this
+mystery--or else your own body has somehow become translated into a
+condition which answers the same purpose.
+
+"At any rate, you ought to comprehend what I mean by the term 'earth.'
+Do you?"
+
+"Oh, yes," brightly. "I seem to understand everything you say, Hobart."
+
+"Then there is a corresponding picture in your mind to each thought I
+have given you?"
+
+"I think so," not so positively.
+
+"Well," hoping that I could make it clear, "this earth is formed in a
+huge globe, part of which is covered by another material, which we term
+water. And the portions which are not so covered, and are capable of
+supporting the structures which constitute the city, we call by still
+another name. Can you supply that name?"
+
+"Continents," without hesitation.
+
+"Fine!" This was a starter anyhow. "We'll soon have your memory working!
+
+"However, what I really began to say is this; each of these
+continents--and they are several in number--is inhabited by people more
+or less like ourselves. There is a vast number, all told. Each is either
+male or female, like ourselves--you seem to take this for granted,
+however--and you will find them all exceedingly interesting.
+
+"Now, in all fairness," letting go her hands at last "you must
+understand that there are, among the people whom you have yet to see,
+great numbers who are far more--well, attractive, than I am.
+
+"And you must know," even taking my gaze away, "that not all persons are
+as friendly as we. You will find some who are antagonistic to you, and
+likely to take advantage of--well, your unsophisticated viewpoint. In
+short"--desperately--"you must learn right away not to accept people
+without question; you must form the habit of reserving judgment, of
+waiting until you have more facts, before reaching an opinion of others.
+
+"You must do this as a matter of self-protection, and in the interests
+of your greatest welfare."
+
+And I stopped.
+
+She seemed to be thinking over what I said. In the end she observed:
+"This seems reasonable. I feel sure that wherever I came from such
+advice would have fitted.
+
+"However"--smiling at me in a manner to which I can give no description
+other than affectionate--"I have no doubts about you, Hobart. I know you
+are absolutely all right."
+
+And before I could recover from the bliss into which her statement threw
+me, she turned to Charlotte with "You too, Charlotte; I know I can trust
+you."
+
+But when she looked at Jerome she commented: "I can trust you, Mister,
+too; almost as much, but not quite. If you didn't suspect me I could
+trust you completely."
+
+Jerome went white. He spoke for the first time since the girl's coming.
+
+"How--how did you know that I suspected you?"
+
+"I can't explain; I don't know myself." Then wistfully: "I wish you
+would stop suspecting me, Mister. I have nothing to conceal from you."
+
+"I know it!" Jerome burst out, excitedly, apologetically. "I know it
+now! You're all right, I'm satisfied of that from now on!"
+
+She sighed in pure pleasure. And she offered one hand to Jerome. He took
+it as though it were a humming-bird's egg, and turned almost purple. At
+the same time the honest, fervid manliness which backed the detective's
+professional nature shone through for the first time in my knowledge of
+him. From that moment his devotion to the girl was as absolute as that
+of the fondest father who ever lived.
+
+Well, no need to detail all that was said during the next hour. Bit by
+bit we added to the girl's knowledge of the world into which she had
+emerged, and bit by bit there unfolded in her mind a corresponding image
+of the world from which she had come. And when, for an experiment, we
+took her out on the front porch and showed her the stars, we were fairly
+amazed at the thoughts they aroused.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, in sheer rapture. "I know what those are!" By now she
+was speaking fairly well. "They are stars!" Then: "They don't look the
+same. They're not outlined in the same way as I know. But they can't be
+anything else!"
+
+NOT OUTLINED THE SAME. I took this to be a very significant fact. What
+did it mean?
+
+"Look"--showing her the constellation Leo, on the ecliptic, and
+therefore visible to both the northern and southern hemispheres--"do you
+recognise that?"
+
+"Yes," decisively. "That is, the arrangement; but not the appearance of
+the separate stars."
+
+And we found this to be true of the entire sky. Nothing was entirely
+familiar to her; yet, she assured us, the stars could be nothing else.
+Her previous knowledge told her this without explaining why, and without
+a hint as to the reason for the dissimilarity.
+
+"Is it possible," said I, speaking half to myself, "that she has come
+from another planet?"
+
+For we know that the sky, as seen from any of the eight planets in this
+solar system, would present practically the same appearance; but if
+viewed from a planet belonging to any other star-sun, the constellations
+would be more or less altered in their arrangement, because of the
+vast distance involved. As for the difference in the appearance of the
+individual stars, that might be accounted for by a dissimilarity in the
+chemical make-up of the atmosphere.
+
+"Ariadne, it may be you've come from another world!"
+
+"No," seemingly quite conscious that she was contradicting me. For that
+matter there wasn't anything offensive about her kind of frankness. "No,
+Hobart. I feel too much at home to have come from any other world than
+this one."
+
+Temporarily I was floored. How could she, so ignorant of other matters,
+feel so sure of this? There was no explaining it.
+
+We went back into the house. As it happened, my eye struck first the
+gramophone. And it seemed a good idea to test her knowledge with this.
+
+"Is this apparatus familiar to you?"
+
+"No. What is it for?"
+
+"Do you understand what is meant by the term 'music'?"
+
+"Yes," with instant pleasure. "This is music." She proceeded, without
+the slightest self-consciousness, to sing in a sweet clear soprano, and
+treated us to the chorus of "I Am Climbing Mountains!"
+
+"Good heavens!" gasped Charlotte. "What can it mean?"
+
+For a moment the explanation evaded me. Then I reasoned: "She must
+have a sub-conscious memory of what was being played just before she
+materialised."
+
+And to prove this I picked out an instrumental piece which we had not
+played all the evening. It was the finale of the overture to "Faust"; a
+selection, by the way, which was a great favourite of Harry's and is one
+of mine. Ariadne listened in silence to the end.
+
+"I seem to have heard something like it before," she decided slowly.
+"The melody, not the--the instrumentation. But it reminds me of
+something that I like very much." Whereupon she began to sing for us.
+But this time her voice was stronger and more dramatic; and as for the
+composition--all I can say is it had a wild, fierce ring to it, like
+"Men of Harlech"; only the notes did not correspond to the chromatic
+scale. SHE SANG IN AN ENTIRELY NEW MUSICAL SYSTEM.
+
+"By George!" when she had done. "Now we HAVE got something! For the
+first time, we've heard some genuine, unadulterated Blind Spot stuff!"
+
+"You mean," from Charlotte, excitedly, "that she has finally recovered
+her memory?"
+
+It was the girl herself who answered. She shot to her feet, and her face
+became transfigured with a wonderful joy. At the same time she blinked
+hurriedly, as though to shut off a sight that staggered her.
+
+"Oh, I remember!"--she almost sobbed in her delight--"it is all plain
+to me, now! I know who I am!"
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+THE RHAMDA AGAIN
+
+
+I could have yelled for joy. We were about to learn something of the
+Blind Spot--something that might help us to save Harry, and Chick, and
+the professor!
+
+Ariadne seemed to know that a great deal depended upon what she was
+about to tell us. She deliberately sat down, and rested her chin upon
+her hand, as though determining upon the best way of telling something
+very difficult to express.
+
+As for Charlotte, Jerry, and myself, we managed somehow to restrain our
+curiosity enough to keep silence. But we could not help glancing more or
+less wonderingly at our visitor. Presently I realised this, and got up
+and walked quietly about, as though intent upon a problem of my own.
+
+Which was true enough. I had come to a very startling conclusion--I,
+Hobart Fenton, had fallen in love!
+
+What was more, this affection of the heart had come to me, a very strong
+man, just as an affection of the lungs is said to strike such men--all
+of a sudden and hard. One moment I had been a sturdy, independent soul,
+intent upon scientific investigation, the only symptoms of sentimental
+potentialities being my perfectly normal love for my sister and for my
+old friend. Then, before my very eyes, I had been smitten thus!
+
+And the worst part of it was, I found myself ENJOYING the sensation. It
+made not the slightest difference to me that I had fallen in love with
+a girl who was only a step removed from a wraith. Mysteriously she had
+come to me; as mysteriously she might depart. I had yet to know from
+what sort of country she had come!
+
+But that made no difference. She was HERE, in the same house with me;
+I had held her hands; and I knew her to be very, very real indeed just
+then. And when I considered the possibility of her disappearing just as
+inexplicably as she had come--well, my face went cold, I admit. But at
+the same time I felt sure of this much--I should never love any other
+woman.
+
+The thought left me sober. I paused in my pacing and looked at her. As
+though in answer to my gaze she glanced up and smiled so affectionately
+that it was all I could do to keep from leaping forward and taking her
+right into my arms.
+
+I turned hastily, and to cover my confusion I began to hum a strain from
+the part of "Faust" to which I have referred. I hummed it through, and
+was beginning again, when I was startled to hear this from the girl:
+"Oh, then you are Hobart!"
+
+I wheeled, to see her face filled with a wonderful light.
+
+"Hobart," she repeated, as one might repeat the name of a very dear one.
+"That--that music you were humming! Why, I heard Harry Wendel humming
+that yesterday!"
+
+I suppose we looked very stupid, the three of us, so dumbfounded that we
+could do nothing but gape incredulously at that extraordinary creature
+and her equally extraordinary utterance. She immediately did her best to
+atone for her sensation.
+
+"I'm not sure that I can make it clear," she said, smiling dubiously,
+"but if you will use your imaginations and try to fill in the gaps in
+what I say you may get a fair idea of the place I have come from, and
+where Harry is."
+
+We leaned forward, intensely alert. I shall never forget the pitiful
+eagerness in poor Charlotte's face. It meant more to her, perhaps, than
+to anyone else.
+
+At the precise instant I heard a sound, off in the breakfast room. It
+seemed to be a subdued knocking, or rather a pounding at the door.
+
+Frowning at the interruption, I stepped through the dining-room into
+the breakfast room, where the sounds came from. And I was not a little
+puzzled to note that the door to the basement was receiving the blows.
+
+Now I had been the last to visit the basement and had locked the
+door--from force of habit, I suppose--leaving the key in the lock.
+It was still there. And there is but one way to enter that basement:
+through this one door, and no other.
+
+"Who is it?" I called out peremptorily. No answer; only a repetition of
+the pounds.
+
+"What do you want?"--louder.
+
+"Open this door, quick!" cane a muffled reply.
+
+The voice was unrecognisable. I stood and thought quickly; then shouted:
+
+"Wait a minute, until I get a key!"
+
+I motioned to Charlotte. She tip-toed to my side. I whispered something
+in her ear; and she slipped off into the kitchen, there to phone Miss
+Clarke and warn her to notify her colleagues at once. And so, as I
+unlocked the door, I was fortified by the knowledge that I would be
+assisted by the combined mind-force of a score of highly developed
+intellects.
+
+I was little surprised, a second later, to see that the intruder was
+Rhamda Avec. What reason to expect anyone else?
+
+"How did you get down there?" I demanded. "Don't you realise that you
+are liable to arrest for trespass?"
+
+I said it merely to start conversation but it served only to bring a
+slight smile to the face of this professed friend of ours, for whom we
+felt nothing but distrust and fear.
+
+"Let us not waste time in trivialities, Fenton," he rejoined gently. He
+brushed a fleck of cobweb from his coat. "By this time you ought to know
+that you cannot deal with me in any ordinary fashion."
+
+I made no comment as, without asking my leave or awaiting an invitation,
+he stepped through into the dining-room and thence into the parlour. I
+followed, half tempted to strike him down from behind, but restrained
+more by the fact that I must spare him than from any compunctions.
+Seemingly he knew this as well as I, he was serenely at ease.
+
+And thus he stood before Jerome and Ariadne. The detective made a single
+exclamation, and furtively shifted his coat sleeves. He was getting that
+infernal breast gun into action. As for Ariadne, she stared at the new
+arrival as though astonished at first.
+
+When Charlotte returned, a moment later, she showed only mild surprise.
+She quietly took her chair and as quietly moved her hand so that the gem
+shone in full view of our visitor.
+
+But he gave her and the stone only a single glance, and then rested his
+eyes upon our new friend. To my anxiety, Ariadne was gazing fixedly at
+him now, her expression combining both agitation and a vague fear.
+
+It could not have been due entirely to his unusual appearance; for
+there was no denying that this grey-haired yet young-faced man with the
+distinguished, courteous bearing, looked even younger that night than
+ever before. No; the girl's concern was deeper, more acute. I felt an
+unaccountable alarm.
+
+From Ariadne to me the Rhamda glanced, then back again; and a quick
+satisfied smile came to his mouth. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.
+And, keeping his gaze fixed upon her eyes, he remarked carelessly:
+
+"Which of these chairs shall I sit in, Fenton?"
+
+"This one," I replied instantly, pointing to the one I had just quit.
+
+Smiling, he selected a chair a few feet away.
+
+Whereupon I congratulated myself. The man feared me, then; yet he ranked
+my mentality no higher than that! In other words, remarkably clever
+though he might be, and as yet unthwarted, he could by no means be
+called omnipotent.
+
+"For your benefit, Mr. Jerome, let me say that I phoned Miss Fenton and
+her brother a few days ago, and urged them to give up their notion of
+occupying this house or of attempting to solve the mystery that you
+are already acquainted with. And I prophesied, Mr. Jerome, that their
+refusal to accept my advice would be followed by events that would
+justify me.
+
+"They refused, as you know; and I am here tonight to make a final plea,
+so that they may escape the consequences of their wilfulness."
+
+"You're a crook! And the more I see of you, Avec, the more easily I can
+understand why they turned you down!"
+
+"So you too, are prejudiced against me. I cannot understand this. My
+motives are quite above question, I assure you."
+
+"Really!" I observed sarcastically. I stole a glance at Ariadne; her
+eyes were still riveted, in a rapt yet half-fearful abstraction, upon
+the face of the Rhamda. It was time I took her attention away.
+
+I called her name. She did not move her head, or reply. I said it
+louder: "Ariadne!"
+
+"What is it, Hobart?"--very softly.
+
+"Ariadne, this gentleman possesses a great deal of knowledge of the
+locality from which you came. We are interested in him, because we feel
+sure that, if he chose to, he could tell us something about our friends
+who--about Harry Wendel." Why not lay the cards plainly on the table?
+The Rhamda must be aware of it all, anyhow. "And as this man has said,
+he has tried to prevent us from solving the mystery. It occurs to me,
+Ariadne, that you might recognise this man. But apparently--"
+
+She shook her head just perceptibly. I proceeded:
+
+"He is pleased to call his warning a prophecy; but we feel that a threat
+is a threat. What he really wants is that ring."
+
+Ariadne had already, earlier in the hour, given the gem several curious
+glances. Now she stirred and sighed, and was about to turn her eyes
+from the Rhamda to the ring when he spoke again; this time in a voice as
+sharp as a steel blade:
+
+"I do not enjoy being misunderstood, much less being misrepresented, Mr.
+Fenton. At the same time, since you have seen fit to brand me in such
+uncomplimentary terms, suppose I state what I have to say very bluntly,
+so that there may be no mistake about it. If you do not either quit this
+house, or give up the ring--NOW--you will surely regret it the rest of
+your lives!"
+
+From the corner of my eye I saw Jerome moving slowly in his chair, so
+that he could face directly towards the Rhamda. His hands were ready for
+the swift, upward jerk which, I knew, would stifle our caller.
+
+As for my sister, she merely turned the ring so that the gem no longer
+faced the Rhamda; and with the other hand she reached out and grasped
+Ariadne's firmly.
+
+Avec sat with his two hands clasping the arms of his chair. His fingers
+drummed nervously but lightly on the wood. And then, suddenly, they
+stopped their motion.
+
+"Your answer, Fenton," in his usual gentle voice. "I can give you no
+more time," I did not need to consult Charlotte or Jerome. I knew what
+they would have said.
+
+"You are welcome to my answer. It is--no!"
+
+As I spoke the last word my gaze was fixed on the Rhamda's eyes. He, on
+the other hand, was looking towards Ariadne. And at the very instant an
+expression, as of alarm and sorrow, swept into the man's face.
+
+My glance jumped to Ariadne. Her eyes were closed, her face suffused;
+she seemed to be suffocating. She gave a queer little sound, half gasp
+and half cry.
+
+Simultaneously Jerome's hands shot into the air. The room shivered
+with the stunning report of his breast gun. And every pellet struck the
+Rhamda and burst.
+
+A look of intense astonishment came into his face. He gave Jerome a
+fleeting glance, almost of admiration; then his nostrils contracted with
+pain as the gas attacked his lungs.
+
+Another second, and each of us were reeling with the fumes. Jerome
+started toward the window, to raise it, then sank back into his chair.
+And when he turned round--
+
+He and I and Charlotte saw an extraordinary thing. Instead of succumbing
+to the gas, Rhamda Avec somehow recovered himself. And while the rest
+of us remained still too numbed to move or speak, he found power to do
+both.
+
+"I warned you plainly, Fenton," as though nothing in particular had
+happened. "And now see what you have brought upon the poor child!"
+
+I could only roll my head stupidly, to stare at Ariadne's now senseless
+form.
+
+"As usual, Fenton, you will blame me for it. I cannot help that. But it
+may still be possible for you to repent of your folly and escape your
+fate. You are playing with terrible forces. If you do repent, just
+follow these instructions"--laying a card on the table--"and I will see
+what I can do for you. I wish you all good night."
+
+And with that, pausing only to make a courtly bow to Charlotte, Rhamda
+Avec turned and walked deliberately, dignifiedly from the room, while
+the two men and a woman stared helplessly after him and allowed him to
+go in peace.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+THE LIVING DEATH
+
+
+As soon as the fresh air had revived us somewhat, we first of all
+examined Ariadne. She still lay unconscious, very pale, and alarmingly
+limp. I picked her up and carried her into the next room, where
+there was a sofa, while Jerome went for water and Charlotte brought
+smelling-salts.
+
+Neither of these had any effect. Ariadne seemed to be scarcely
+breathing; her heart beat only faintly, and there was no response to
+such other methods as friction, slapping, or pinching of fingernails.
+
+"We had better call a doctor," decided Charlotte promptly, and went to
+the phone.
+
+I picked up the card which the Rhamda had left. It contained simply his
+name, together with one other word--the name of a morning newspaper.
+Evidently he meant for us to insert an advertisement as soon as we were
+ready to capitulate.
+
+"Not yet!" the three of us decided, after talking it over. And we waited
+as patiently as we could during the fifteen minutes that elapsed before
+the telephoning got results.
+
+It brought Dr. Hansen, who, it may be remembered, was closely identified
+with the Chick Watson disappearance. He made a rapid but very careful
+examination.
+
+"It has all the appearance of a mild electric shock. What caused it,
+Fenton?"
+
+I told him. His eyes narrowed when I mentioned Avec, then widened in
+astonishment and incredulity as I related the man's inexplicable effect
+upon the girl, and his strange immunity to the poison gas. But the
+doctor asked nothing further about our situation, proceeding at once to
+apply several restoratives. All were without result. As a final resort,
+he even rigged up an electrical connection, making use of some coils
+which I had upstairs, and endeavoured to arouse the girl in that
+fashion. Still without result.
+
+"Good Lord, Hansen!" I finally burst out, when he stood back, apparently
+baffled. "She's simply GOT to be revived! We can't allow her to succumb
+to that scoundrel's power, whatever it is!"
+
+"Why not a blood transfusion?" I asked eagerly, as an idea came to me.
+"I'm in perfect condition. What about it? Go to it, doc!"
+
+He slowly shook his head. And beyond a single searching glance into
+my eyes, wherein he must have read something more than I had said, he
+regretfully replied:
+
+"This is a case for a specialist, Fenton. Everything considered, I
+should say that she is suffering from a purely mental condition; but
+whether it had a physical or a psychic origin, I can't say."
+
+In short, he did not feel safe about going ahead with any really heroic
+measures until a brain specialist was called in.
+
+I had a good deal of confidence in Hansen. And what he said sounded
+reasonable. So we agreed to his calling in a Dr. Higgins--the same man,
+in fact, who was too late in reaching the house to save Chick on that
+memorable night a year before.
+
+His examination was swift and convincingly competent. He went over the
+same ground that Hansen had covered, took the blood pressure and other
+instrumental data, and asked us several questions regarding Ariadne's
+mentality as we knew it. Scarcely stopping to think it over, Higgins
+decided:
+
+"The young woman is suffering from a temporary dissociation of brain
+centres. Her cerebrum does not co-act with her cerebellum. In other
+words, her conscious mind, for lack of means to express itself, is for
+the time being dormant as in sleep.
+
+"But it is not like ordinary sleep. Such is induced by fatigue of the
+nerve channels. This young woman's condition is produced by shock; and
+since there was no physical violence, we must conclude that the shock
+was psychic.
+
+"In that case, the condition will last until one of two things occurs;
+either she must be similarly shocked back into sensibility--and I can't
+see how this can happen, Fenton, unless you can secure the co-operation
+of the man to whom you attribute the matter--or she must lie that way
+indefinitely."
+
+"Indefinitely!" I exclaimed, sensing something ominous. "You mean--"
+
+"That there is no known method of reviving a patient in such a
+condition. It might be called psychic catalepsy. To speak plainly,
+Fenton, unless this man revives her, she will remain unconscious until
+her death."
+
+I shuddered. What horrible thing had come into our lives to afflict us
+with so dreadful a prospect?
+
+"Is--is there no hope, Dr. Higgins?"
+
+"Very little"--gently but decisively. "All I can assure you is that she
+will not die immediately. From the general state of her health, she will
+live at least seventy-two hours. After that--you must be prepared for
+the worst at any moment."
+
+I turned away quickly, so that he could not see my face. What an awful
+situation! Unless we could somehow lay hands on the Rhamda--
+
+I hunted up Jerome. I said:
+
+"Jerry, the thing is plainly up to you and me. Higgins gives us three
+days. Day after tomorrow morning, if we haven't got results by that
+time, we've got to give in and put that ad in the paper. But I
+don't mean to give in, Jerry! Not until I've exhausted every other
+possibility!"
+
+"What're you going to do?" he asked thoughtfully.
+
+"Work on that ring. I was a fool not to get busy sooner. As for the
+rest, that's up to you! You've got to get yourself on the Rhamda's trail
+as soon as you can, and camp there! The first chance you get, ransack
+his room and belongings, and bring me every bit of data you find.
+Between him and the ring, the truth ought to come out."
+
+"All right. But don't forget that--" pointing to the unexplained spot
+on the wood of the doorway. "You've got a mighty important clue there,
+waiting for you to analyse it."
+
+And he went and got his hat, and left the house. His final remark was
+that we wouldn't see him back until he had something to report about our
+man.
+
+Five o'clock the next morning found my sister and me out of our beds and
+desperately busy. She spent a good deal of time, of course in caring for
+Ariadne. The poor girl showed no improvement at all; and we got scant
+encouragement from the fact that she looked no worse.
+
+Not a sound escaped her lips; her eyes remained closed; she gave no sign
+of life, save her barely perceptible breathing. It made me sick at heart
+just to look at her; so near, and yet so fearfully far away.
+
+But when Charlotte could spare any time she gave me considerable help in
+what I was trying to do. One great service she was rendering has already
+been made clear: she wore the ring constantly, thus relieving me of
+the anxiety of caring for it. I was very cautious not to have it in my
+possession for more than a few minutes at a time.
+
+My first move was to set down, in orderly fashion, the list of the gem's
+attributes. I grouped together the fluctuating nature of its pale blue
+colour, its power of reproducing those who had gone into the Blind Spot,
+its combination of perfect solidity with extreme lightness; its quality
+of coldness to the touch of a male, and warmth to that of a female; and
+finally its ability to induct--I think this is the right term--to induct
+sounds out of the unknown. This last quality might be called spasmodic
+or accidental, whereas the others were permanent and constant.
+
+Now, to this list I presently was able to add that the gem possessed no
+radioactive properties that I could detect with the usual means. It was
+only when I began dabbling in chemistry that I learned things.
+
+By placing the gem inside a glass bell, and exhausting as much air as
+possible from around it, the way was cleared for introducing other forms
+of gases. Whereupon I discovered this:
+
+The stone will absorb any given quantity of hydrogen gas.
+
+In this respect it behaves analogously to that curious place on
+the door-frame. Only, it absorbs gas, no liquid; and not any gas,
+either--none but hydrogen.
+
+Now, obviously this gem cannot truly absorb so much material, in the
+sense of retaining it as well. The simple test of weighing it afterwards
+proves this; for its weight remains the same in any circumstances.
+
+Moreover, unlike the liquids which I poured into the wood and saw
+afterwards in the basement, the gas does not escape back into the air. I
+kept it under the Dell long enough to be sure of that. No; that hydrogen
+is, manifestly, translated into the Blind Spot.
+
+Learning nothing further about the gem at that time, I proceeded to
+investigate the trim of the door. I began by trying to find out the
+precise thickness of that liquid-absorbing layer.
+
+To do this I scraped off the "skin" of the air-darkened wood. This layer
+was .02 of an inch thick. And--that was the total amount of the active
+material!
+
+I put these scrapings through a long list of experiments. They told
+me nothing valuable. I learned only one detail worth mentioning; if a
+fragment of the scrapings be brought near to the Holcomb gem--say, to
+within two inches--the scrapings will burst into flame. It is merely
+a bright, pinkish flare, like that made by smokeless rifle-powder. No
+ashes remain. After that we took care not to bring the ring near the
+remaining material on the board.
+
+All this occurred on the first day after Ariadne was stricken. Jerome
+phoned to say that he had engaged the services of a dozen private
+detectives, and expected to get wind of the Rhamda any hour. Both Dr.
+Hansen and Dr. Higgins called twice, without being able to detect any
+change for the better or otherwise in their patient.
+
+That evening Charlotte and I concluded that we could not hold out any
+longer. We must give in to the Rhamda. I phoned for a messenger, and
+sent an advertisement to the newspaper which Avec had indicated.
+
+The thing was done. We had capitulated.
+
+The next development would be another and triumphant call from the
+Rhamda, and this time we would have to give up the gem to him if we were
+to save Ariadne.
+
+The game was up.
+
+But instead of taking the matter philosophically, I worried about it all
+night. I told myself again and again that I was foolish to think about
+something that couldn't be helped. Why not forget it, and go to sleep?
+
+But somehow I couldn't. I lay wide awake till long past midnight,
+finding myself growing more and more nervous. At last, such was the
+tension of it all, I got up and dressed. It was then about one-thirty,
+and I stepped out on the street for a walk.
+
+Half an hour later I returned, my lungs full of fresh air, hoping that I
+could now sleep. It was only a hope. Never have I felt wider awake than
+I did then.
+
+Once more--about three--I took another stroll outside. I seemed
+absolutely tireless.
+
+Each time that I had turned back home I seemed to feel stronger than
+ever, more wakeful. Finally I dropped the idea altogether, went to the
+house, and left a note for Charlotte, then walked down to the waterfront
+and watched some ships taking advantage of the tide. Anything to pass
+the time.
+
+And thus it happened, that, about eight o'clock--breakfast time at 288
+Chatterton Place--I returned to the house, and sat down at the table
+with Charlotte. First, however, I opened the morning paper to read our
+little ad.
+
+It was not there. It had not been printed.
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR
+
+
+I dropped the paper in dismay. Charlotte looked up, startled, gave me a
+single look, and turned pale,
+
+"What--what's the matter?" she stammered fearfully.
+
+I showed her. Then I ran to the phone. In a few seconds I was talking to
+the very man who had taken the note from the messenger the day before.
+
+"Yes, I handed it in along with the rest," he replied to my excited
+query. Then--"Wait a minute," said he; and a moment later added: "Say,
+Mr. Fenton, I've made a mistake! Here's the darned ad on the counter; it
+must have slipped under the blotter."
+
+I went back and told Charlotte. We stared at one another blankly. Why
+in the name of all that was baffling had our ad "slipped" under that
+blotter? And what were we to do?
+
+This was the second day!
+
+Well, we did what we could. We arranged for the insertion of the same
+notice in each of the three afternoon papers. There would still be time
+for the Rhamda to act, if he saw it.
+
+The hours dragged by. Never did time pass more slowly; and yet, I
+begrudged every one. So much for being absolutely helpless.
+
+About ten o'clock the next morning--that is to say, today; I am writing
+this the same evening--the front door bell rang. Charlotte answered and
+in a moment came back with a card. It read:
+
+SIR HENRY HODGES
+
+I nearly upset the table in my excitement. I ran into the hall. Who
+wouldn't? Sir Henry Hodges! The English scientist about whom the whole
+world was talking! The most gifted investigator of the day; the most
+widely informed; of all men on the face of the globe, the best equipped,
+mentally, to explore the unknown! Without the slightest formality I
+grabbed his hand and shook it until he smiled at my enthusiasm.
+
+"My dear Sir Henry," I told him, "I'm immensely glad to see you! The
+truth is, I've been hoping you'd be interested in our case; but I didn't
+have the nerve to bother you with it!"
+
+"And I," he admitted in his quiet way, "have been longing to take a hand
+in it, ever since I first heard of Professor Holcomb's disappearance.
+Didn't like to offer myself; understood that the matter had been hushed
+up and--"
+
+"For the very simple reason," I explained, "that there was nothing to be
+gained by publicity. If we had given the public the facts, we would have
+been swamped with volunteers to help us. I didn't know whom to confide
+in, Sir Henry; couldn't make up my mind. I only knew that one such man
+as yourself was just what I needed."
+
+He overlooked the compliment, and pulled out the newspaper from his
+pocket. "Bought this a few minutes ago. Saw your ad, and jumped to the
+conclusion that matters had reached an acute stage. Let me have the
+whole story, my boy, as briefly as you can."
+
+He already knew the published details. Also, he seemed to be
+acquainted--in some manner which puzzled me--with much that had not been
+printed. I sketched the affair as quickly as I could, making it clear
+that we were face to face with a crisis. When I wound up by saying that
+it was Dr. Higgins who gave Ariadne three days, ending about midnight,
+in which she might recover if we could secure Rhamda Avec, he said
+kindly:
+
+"I'm afraid you made a mistake, my boy, in not seeking some help. The
+game has reached a point where you cannot have too many brains on your
+side. Time is short for reinforcements!"
+
+He heartily approved of my course in enlisting the aid of Miss Clarke
+and her colleagues. "That is the sort of thing you need! People with
+mentality; plenty of intellectual force!" And he went on to make
+suggestions.
+
+As a result, within an hour and a half our house was sheltering five
+more persons.
+
+Miss Clarke has already been introduced. She was easily one of the ten
+most advanced practitioners in her line. And she had the advantage of
+a curiosity that was interested in everything odd, even though she
+labelled it "non-existent." She said it helped her faith in the real
+truths to be conversant with the unreal.
+
+Dr. Malloy was from the university, an out-and-out materialist, a
+psychologist who made life interesting for those who agreed with William
+James. His investigations of abnormal psychology are world-acknowledged.
+
+Mme. Le Fabre, we afterwards learned, had come from Versailles
+especially to investigate the matter that was bothering us. She
+possessed no mediumistic properties of her own but was a staunch
+proponent of spiritualism, believing firmly in immortality and the
+omnipotence of "translated" souls.
+
+Professor Herold is most widely known as the inventor of certain
+apparatus connected with wireless. But he is also considered the West's
+most advanced student of electrical and radio-active subjects.
+
+I was enormously glad to have this man's expert, high-tension knowledge
+right on tap.
+
+The remaining member of the quintet which Sir Henry advised me to summon
+requires a little explanation. Also, I am obliged to give him a name
+not his own; for it is not often that brigadier-generals of the United
+States army can openly lend their names to anything so far removed
+apparently from militarism as the searching of the occult.
+
+Yet we knew that this man possessed a power that few scientists have
+developed; the power of co-ordination, of handling and balancing great
+facts and forces, and of deciding promptly how best to meet any given
+situation. Not that we looked for anything militaristic out of the Blind
+Spot; far from it. We merely knew not what to expect, which was exactly
+why we wanted to have him with us; his type of mind is, perhaps, the
+most solidly comforting sort that any mystery-bound person can have at
+his side.
+
+By the time these five had gathered, Jerome had neither returned
+nor telephoned. There was not the slightest trace of Rhamda Avec; no
+guessing as to whether he had seen the ad. It was then one o'clock in
+the afternoon. Only six hours ago! It doesn't seem possible.
+
+So there were eight of us--three women and five men--who went upstairs
+and quietly inspected the all but lifeless form of Ariadne and
+afterwards gathered in the library below.
+
+All were thoroughly familiar with the situation. Miss Clarke calmly
+commented to the effect that the entire Blind Spot affair was due wholly
+and simply to the cumulative effects of so many, many subjects; the
+result, in other words, of error.
+
+Dr. Malloy was equally outspoken in his announcement that he proposed
+to deal with the matter from the standpoint of psychic aberration. He
+mentioned dissociated personalities, group hypnosis, and so on. But he
+declared that he was open to conviction, and anxious to get any and all
+facts.
+
+Sir Henry had a good deal of difficulty in getting Mme. Le Fabre to
+commit herself. Probably she felt that, since Sir Henry had gone on
+record as being doubtful of the spiritistic explanation of psychic
+phenomena, she might get into a controversy with him. But in the end
+she stated that she expected to find our little mystery simply a novel
+variation on what was so familiar to her.
+
+As might be supposed, General Hume had no opinion. He merely expressed
+himself as being prepared to accept any sound theory, or portions of
+such theories as might be advanced, and arrive at a workable conclusion
+therefrom. Which was exactly what we wanted of him.
+
+Of them all, Professor Herold showed the most enthusiasm. Perhaps this
+was because, despite his attainments, he is still young. At any rate, he
+made it clear that he was fully prepared to learn something entirely new
+in science. And he was almost eager to adjust his previous notions and
+facts to the new discoveries.
+
+When all these various viewpoints had been cleared up, and we felt that
+we understood each other, it was inevitable that we should look to Sir
+Henry to state his position. This one man combined a large amount of the
+various, specialised abilities for which the others were noted, and they
+all knew and respected him accordingly. Had he stood and theorised half
+the afternoon, they would willingly have sat and listened. But instead
+he glanced at his watch, and observed:
+
+"To me, the most important development of all was hearing the sound of a
+dog's bark coming from the ring. As I recall the details, the sound was
+emitted just after the gem had been submitted to considerable handling,
+from Miss Fenton's fingers to her brother's and back again. In other
+words, it was subjected to a mixture of opposing animal magnetisms.
+Suppose we experiment further with it now."
+
+Charlotte slipped the gem from her finger and passed it around. Each of
+us held it for a second or two; after which Charlotte clasped the ring
+tightly in her palm, while we all joined hands.
+
+It was, as I have said, broad daylight; the hour, shortly after one.
+Scarcely had our hands completed the circuit than something happened.
+
+From out of Charlotte's closed hand there issued an entirely new sound.
+At first it was so faint and fragmentary that only two of us heard it.
+Then it became stronger and more continuous, and presently we were all
+gazing at each other in wonderment.
+
+For the sound was that of footsteps.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+DIRECT FROM PARADISE
+
+
+The sound was not like that of the walking of the human. Nor was it such
+as an animal would make. It was neither a thud nor a pattering, but more
+like a scratching shuffle, such as reminded me of nothing that I had
+ever heard before.
+
+Next moment, however, there came another sort of sound, plainly audible
+above the footsteps. This was a thin, musical chuckle which ended in a
+deep, but faint, organ-like throb. It happened only once.
+
+Immediately it was followed by a steady clicking, such as might be made
+by gently striking a stick against the pavement; only sharper. This
+lasted a minute, during which the other sounds ceased.
+
+Once more the footsteps. They were not very loud, but in the stillness
+of that room they all but resounded.
+
+Presently Charlotte could stand it no longer. She placed the ring on the
+table, where it continued to emit those unplaceable sounds.
+
+"Well! Do--do you people," stammered Dr. Malloy, "do you people all hear
+THAT?"
+
+Miss Clarke's face was rather pale. But her mouth was firm. "It is
+nothing," said she, with theosophical positiveness. "You must not
+believe it--it is not the truth of--"
+
+"Pardon me," interrupted Sir Henry, "but this isn't something to argue
+about! It is a reality; and the sooner we all admit it, the better.
+There is a living creature of some kind making that sound!"
+
+"It is the spirit of some two-footed creature," asserted Mme. Le Fabre,
+plainly at her ease. She was on familiar ground now. "If only we had a
+medium!"
+
+Abruptly the sounds left the vicinity of the ring. At first we could
+not locate their new position. Then Herold declared that they came
+from under the table; and presently we were all gathered on the floor,
+listening to those odd little sounds, while the ring remained thirty
+inches above, on the top of the table!
+
+It may be that the thing, whatever it was, did not care for such a
+crowd. For shortly the shuffling ceased. And for a while we stared and
+listened, scarcely breathing, trying to locate the new position.
+
+Finally we went back to our chairs. We had heard nothing further.
+Nevertheless, we continued to keep silence, with our ears alert for
+anything more.
+
+"Hush!" whispered Charlotte all of a sudden. "Did you hear that?" And
+she looked up toward the ceiling.
+
+In a moment I caught the sound. It was exceedingly faint, like the
+distant thrumming of a zither. Only it was a single note, which did
+not rise and fall, although there seemed a continual variation in its
+volume.
+
+Unexpectedly the other sounds came again, down under the table. This
+time we remained in our seats and simply listened. And presently Sir
+Henry, referring to the ring, made this suggestion:
+
+"Suppose we seal it up, and see whether it inducts the sound then as
+well as when exposed."
+
+This appealed to Herold very strongly; the others were agreeable; so I
+ran upstairs to my room and secured a small screw-top metal canister,
+which I knew to be airtight. It was necessary to remove the stone from
+the ring, in order to get it into the opening in the can. Presently this
+was done; and while our invisible visitor continued his scratchy little
+walking as before, I screwed the top of the can down as tightly as I
+could.
+
+Instantly the footsteps halted.
+
+I unscrewed the top a trifle. As instantly the stepping was resumed.
+
+"Ah!" cried Herold. "It's a question of radioactivity, then! Remember Le
+Bon's experiments, Sir Henry?"
+
+But Miss Clarke was sorely mystified by this simple matter, and herself
+repeated the experiments. Equally puzzled was Mme. Le Fabre. According
+to her theory, a spirit wouldn't mind a little thing like a metal box.
+Of them all, Dr. Malloy was the least disturbed; so decidedly so that
+General Hume eyed him quizzically.
+
+"Fine bunch of hallucinations, doctor."
+
+"Almost commonplace," retorted Malloy.
+
+Presently I mentioned that the Rhamda had come from the basement on the
+night that Ariadne had materialised; and I showed that the only possible
+route into the cellar was through the locked door in the breakfast
+room, since the windows were all too small, and there was no other door.
+Query: How had the Rhamda got there? Immediately they all became alert.
+As Herold said:
+
+"One thing or the other is true; either there is something downstairs
+which has escaped you, Fenton, or else Avec is able to materialise in
+any place he chooses. Let's look!"
+
+We all went down except Charlotte, who went upstairs to stay with
+Ariadne. By turns, each of us held the ring. And as we unlocked the
+basement door we noted that the invisible, walking creature had reached
+there before us.
+
+Down the steps went those unseen little feet, jumping from one step to
+the next just ahead of us all the way. When within three or four steps
+of the bottom, the creature made one leap do for them all.
+
+I had previously run an extension cord down into the basement, and both
+compartments could now be lighted by powerful electric lamps. We gave
+the place a quick examination.
+
+"What's all this newly turned earth mean?" inquired Sir Henry, pointing
+to the result of Jerome's efforts a few months before. And I explained
+how he and Harry, on the chance the basement might contain some clue
+as to the localisation of the Blind Spot, had dug without result in the
+bluish clay.
+
+Sir Henry picked up the spade, which had never been moved from where
+Jerome had dropped it. And while I went on to tell about the pool of
+liquids, which for some unknown reason had not seeped into the soil
+since forming there, the Englishman proceeded to dig vigorously into the
+heap I had mentioned.
+
+The rest of us watched him thoughtfully. We remembered that Jerome's
+digging had been done after Queen's disappearance. And the dog had
+vanished in the rear room, the one in which Chick and Dr. Holcomb had
+last been seen. Now, when Jerome had dug the clay from the basement
+under this, the dining-room, he had thrown it through the once concealed
+opening in the partition; had thrown the clay, that is, in a small heap
+under the library. And--after Jerome had done this the phenomena had
+occurred in the library, not in the dining-room.
+
+"By Jove!" ejaculated General Hume, as I pointed this out. "This may be
+something more, you know, that mere coincidence!"
+
+Sir Henry said nothing, but continued his spading. He paid attention to
+nothing save the heap that Jerome had formed. And with each spadeful he
+bent over and examined the clay very carefully.
+
+Miss Clarke and Mme. Le Fabre both remained very calm about it all.
+Each from her own viewpoint regarded the work as more or less a waste of
+time. But I noticed that they did not take their eyes from the spade.
+
+Sir Henry stopped to rest. "Let me," offered Herold; and went on as the
+Englishman had done, holding up each spadeful for inspection. And it was
+thus that we made a strange discovery.
+
+We all saw it at the same time. Embedded in the bluish earth was a
+small, egg-shaped piece of light-coloured stone. And protruding from its
+upper surface was a tiny, blood-red pebble, no bigger than a good-sized
+shot.
+
+Herold thrust the point of his spade under the stone, to lift it up.
+Whereupon he gave a queer exclamation.
+
+"Well, that's funny!" holding the stone up in front of us. "That little
+thing's as heavy as--as--it's HEAVIER than lead!"
+
+Sir Henry picked the stone off the spade. Immediately the material
+crumbled in his hands, as though rotting, so that it left only the
+small, red pebble intact. Sir Henry weighed this thoughtfully in his
+palm, then without a word handed it around.
+
+We all wondered at the pebble. It was most astonishingly heavy. As I
+say, it was no bigger than a fair-sized shot, yet it was vastly heavier.
+
+Afterward we weighed it, upstairs, and found that the trifle weighed
+over half a pound. Considering its very small bulk, this worked out to
+be a specific gravity of 192.6 or almost ten times as heavy as the same
+bulk of pure gold. And gold is heavy.
+
+Inevitably we saw that there must be some connection between this
+unprecedentedly heavy speck of material and that lighter-than-air gem
+of mystery. For the time being we were careful to keep the two apart. As
+for the unexplained footsteps, they were still slightly audible, as the
+invisible creatures moved around the cellar.
+
+At last we turned to go. I let the others lead the way. Thus I was
+the last to approach the steps; and it was at that moment that I felt
+something brush against my foot.
+
+I stooped down. My hands collided with the thing that had touched me.
+And I found myself clutching--
+
+Something invisible--something which, in that brilliant light, showed
+absolutely nothing to my eyes. But my hands told me I was grasping a
+very real thing, as real as my fingers themselves.
+
+I made some sort of incoherent exclamation. The others turned and peered
+at me.
+
+"What is it?" came Herold's excited voice.
+
+"I don't know!" I gasped. "Come here."
+
+But Sir Henry was the first to reach me. Next instant he, too, was
+fingering the tiny, unseen object. And such was his iron nerve and
+superior self-control, he identified it almost at once.
+
+"By the lord!"--softly. "Why, it's a small bird! Come here."
+
+Another second and they were all there. I was glad enough of it; for,
+like a flash, with an unexpectedness that startles me even now as I
+think of it--
+
+The thing became visible. Right in my grasp, a little fluttering bird
+came to life.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+SOLVED
+
+
+It was a tiny thing, and most amazingly beautiful. It could not have
+stood as high as a canary; and had its feathers been made of gleaming
+silver they could not have been lovelier. And its black-plumed head, and
+long, blossom-like tail, were such as no man on earth ever set eyes on.
+
+Like a flash it was gone. Not more than a half a second was this
+enchanting apparition visible to us. Before we could discern any more
+than I have mentioned, it not only vanished but it ceased to make any
+sounds whatever. And each of us drew a long breath, as one might after
+being given a glimpse of an angel.
+
+Right now, five or six hours after the events I have just described, it
+is very easy for me to smile at my emotions of the time. How startled
+and mystified I was! And--why not confess it?--just a trifle afraid.
+Why? Because I didn't understand! Merely that.
+
+At this moment I sit in my laboratory upstairs in that house, rejoicing
+in having reached the end of the mystery. For the enigma of the Blind
+Spot is no more. I have solved it!
+
+Now twenty feet away, in another room, lies Ariadne. Already there is
+a faint trace of colour in her cheeks, and her heart is beating more
+strongly. Another hour, says Dr. Higgins, and she will be restored to
+us!
+
+The time is seven p.m. I didn't sleep at all last night; I haven't slept
+since. For the past five hours we have been working steadily on the
+mystery, ever since our finding that little, red pebble in the basement.
+The last three hours of the time I have been treating Ariadne, using
+means which our discoveries indicated. And in order to keep awake I have
+been dictating this account to a stenographer.
+
+This young lady, a Miss Dibble, is downstairs, where her typewriter will
+not bother. Yes, put that down, too, Miss Dibble; I want people to know
+everything! She has a telephone clamped to her ears, and I am talking
+into a microphone which is fixed to a stand on my desk.
+
+On that desk are four switches. All are of the four-way two-pole type;
+and from them run several wires, some going to one end of the room,
+where they are attached to the Holcomb gem. Others, running to the
+opposite end, making contact with the tiny heavy stone we found in the
+basement. Other wires run from the switches to lead bands around my
+wrists. Also, between switches are several connections--one circuit
+containing an amplifying apparatus. By throwing these switches in
+various combinations, I can secure any given alteration of forces, and
+direct them where I choose.
+
+For there are two other wires. These run from my own lead bracelets to
+another room; a pair clamped around the wrists of Ariadne.
+
+For I, Hobart Fenton, am now a living, human transforming station. I am
+converting the power of the Infinite into the Energy of Life. And I am
+transmitting that power directly out of the ether, as conduced through
+these two marvellous stones, back into the nervous system of the girl I
+love. Another hour, and she will Exist!
+
+It was all so very simple, now that I understand it. And yet--well, an
+absolutely new thing is always very hard to put into words.
+
+To begin with, I must acknowledge the enormous help which I have had
+from my friends: Miss Clarke, Mme. Le Fabre, General Hume, Dr. Malloy,
+and Herold. These people are still in the house with me; I think they
+are eating supper. I've already had mine. Really, I can't take much
+credit to myself for what I have found out. The others supplied most of
+the facts. I merely happened to fit them together; and, because of my
+relationship to the problem, am now doing the heroic end of the work.
+
+As for Harry--he and Dr. Holcomb, Chick Watson and even the dog--I shall
+have them out of the Blind Spot inside of twelve hours. All I need is
+a little rest. I'll go straight to bed as soon as I finish reviving
+Ariadne; and when I wake up, we'll see who's who, friend Rhamda!
+
+I'm too exuberant to hold myself down to the job of telling what I've
+discovered. But it's got to be done. Here goes!
+
+I practically took my life in my hands when I first made connection.
+However, I observed the precaution of rigging up a primary connection
+direct from the ring to the pebble, running the wire along the floor
+some distance away from where I sat. No ill effects when I ventured into
+the line of force; so I began to experiment with the switches.
+
+That precautionary circuit was Herold's idea. His, also, the amplifying
+apparatus. The mental attitude was Miss Clarke's, modified by Dr.
+Malloy. The lead bracelets were Mme. Le Fabre's suggestion; they
+work fine. Sir Henry was the one who pointed out the advantage of the
+microphone I am using. If my hands become paralysed I can easily call
+for help to my side.
+
+Well, the first connection I tried resulted in nothing. Perfectly blank.
+Then I tried another and another, meanwhile continually adjusting the
+amplifier; and as a result I am now able, at will, to do either or all
+of the following:
+
+(1) I can induct sounds from the Blind Spot; (2) I can induct light, or
+visibility; or (3) any given object or person, in toto.
+
+And now to tell how. No, I'm just sleepy, not weak.
+
+Let's see; where was I? Oh, yes; those connections. They've got to be
+done just right, with the proper tension in the coils, and the correct
+mental attitude, to harmonise. I wish I wasn't so tired!
+
+One moment! No, no; I'm all right. I--Queer! By Jove, that's a funny
+thing just now! I must have got an inducted current from another wire,
+mixed with these! And--I got a glimpse into the Blind Spot!
+
+A great--No; it's a--What a terrific crowd! Wonder what they're all--By
+Jove, it's--Good Lord, it's he! And Chick! No, I'm not wandering! I'm
+having the experience of my life!
+
+Now--THAT'S the boy! Don't let 'em bluff you! Good! Good! Tell 'em where
+to head in! That's the boy! Rub it in! I don't know what you're up to,
+but I'm with you!
+
+Er--there's a big crowd of ugly looking chaps there, and I can't make it
+out--Just a moment--a moment. What does it mean, anyway? Just--I--
+
+DANGER, by Heaven! THAT'S what it means!
+
+No; I'm all right. The--thing came to an end, abruptly. That's all;
+everything normal again; the room just the same as it was a moment ago.
+Hello! I seem to have started something! The wire down on the floor has
+commenced to hum! Oh, I've got my eye on it, and if anything--
+
+Miss Dibble! Tell Herold to come! On the run! Quick! Did you? Good!
+don't stop writing! I--
+
+There's Chick! CHICK! How did you get here? What? YOU CAN'T SEE ME!
+Why--
+
+Chick! Listen! Listen, man! I've gone into the Blind Spot! Write this
+down! The connection--
+
+That's Herold! Herold, this is Chick Watson! Listen, now, you
+two! The--the--I can hardly--it's from No. 4 to--to--to the
+ring--then--coil--
+
+Both switches, Chick! Ah! I've--
+
+NOTE BY MISS L. DIBBLE.--Just as Mr. Fenton made the concluding remark
+as above, there came a loud crash, followed by the voice of Mr. Herold.
+Then, there came a very loud clang from a bell; just one stroke. After
+which I caught Mr. Fenton's voice:
+
+"Herold--Chick can tell you what IT wants us to do--"
+
+And with that, his voice trailed off into nothing, and died away. As for
+Mr. Fenton himself, I am informed that he has utterly disappeared; and
+in his stead there now exists a man who is known to Dr. Hansen as Chick
+Watson.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+THE MAN FROM SPACE
+
+
+Before starting the conclusion of the Blind Spot mystery it may be
+just as well for the two publicists who are bringing it to the press to
+follow Hobart Fenton's example and go into a bit of explanation.
+
+The two men who wrote the first two parts were participants, and
+necessarily writing almost in the present tense. While they could give
+an accurate and vivid account of their feelings and experiences, they
+could only guess at what lay in the future, at the events that would
+unravel it all.
+
+But the present writers have the advantage of working, of seeing, of
+weighing in the retrospect. They know just where they are going.
+
+The coming of Chick Watson brought new perspective. Hitherto we had been
+looking into the darkness. Whatever had been caught in the focus of the
+Spot had become lost to our five senses.
+
+Yet, facts are facts. It was no mere trickery that had caught Dr.
+Holcomb in the beginning. One by one, men of the highest standards and
+character had been either victims or witness to its reality and power.
+
+So the coming of Watson may well be set down as one of the deciding
+moments of history. He who had been the victim a year before was
+returning through the very Spot that had engulfed him. He was the herald
+of the great unknown, an ambassador of the infinite itself.
+
+It will be remembered that of all the inmates of the house, Dr. Hansen
+was the only one who had a personal acquaintance with Watson. One year
+before the doctor had seen him a shadow--wasted, worn, exhausted. He had
+talked with him on that memorable night in the cafe. Well he remembered
+the incident, and the subject of that strange conversation--the secret
+of life that had been discovered by the missing Dr. Holcomb. And Dr.
+Hansen had pondered it often since.
+
+What was the force that was pulsing through the Blind Spot? It had
+reached out on the earth, and had plucked up youth as well as wisdom.
+THIS was the first time it had ever given up that which it had taken!
+
+It was Watson, sure enough; but it was not the man he had known one year
+before. Except for the basic features Hansen would not have recognized
+him; the shadow was gone, the pallor, the touch of death. He was hale
+and radiant; his skin had the pink glow of alert fitness; except for
+being dazed, he appeared perfectly natural. In the tense moment of his
+arrival the little group waited in silence. What had he to tell them?
+
+But he did not see them at first. He groped about blindly, moving slowly
+and holding his hands before him. His face was calm and settled; its
+lines told decision. There was not a question in any mind present but
+that the man had come for a purpose.
+
+Why could he not see? Perhaps the light was too dim. Some one thought to
+turn on the extra lights.
+
+It brought the first word from Watson. He threw up both arms before his
+face; like one shutting out the lightning.
+
+"Don't!" he begged. "Don't! Shut off the lights; you will blind me!
+Please; please! Darken the room!"
+
+Sir Henry sprang to the switch. Instantly the place went to shadow;
+there was just enough light from the moon to distinguish the several
+forms grouped in the middle of the room. Dr. Hansen proffered a chair.
+
+"Thank you! Ah! Dr. Hansen! You are here--I had thought--This is much
+better! I can see fairly well now. You came very near to blinding me
+permanently! You didn't know. It's the transition." Then: "And yet--of
+course! It's the moon! THE MOON!"
+
+He stopped. There was a strange wistfulness in the last word. And
+suddenly he rose to his feet. He turned in gladness, as though to drink
+in the mellow flow of the radiance.
+
+"The moon! Gentlemen--doctor--who are these people? This is the house
+of the Blind Spot! And it is the moon--the good old earth! And San
+Francisco!"
+
+He stopped again. There was a bit of indecision and of wonder mixed
+with his gladness. The stillness was only broken by the scarcely audible
+voice of Mme. Le Fabre.
+
+"Now we KNOW! It is proven. The sceptics have always asked why the
+spirits work only in the half light. We know now."
+
+Watson looked to Dr. Hansen. "Who is this lady? Who are these others?"
+
+"Can you see them?"
+
+"Perfectly. It is the lady in the corner; she thinks--"
+
+"That you are a spirit!"
+
+Watson laughed. "I a spirit? Try me and see!"
+
+"Certainly," asserted Mme. Le Fabre. "You are out of the Blind Spot. I
+know; it will prove everything!"
+
+"Ah, yes; the Spot." Watson hesitated. Again the indecision. There was
+something latent that he could not recall; though conscious, part of his
+mind was still in the apparent fog that lingers back into slumber.
+
+"I don't understand," he spoke. "Who are you?"
+
+It was Sir Henry this time. "Mr. Watson, we are a sort of committee.
+This is the house at 288 Chatterton Place. We are after the great secret
+that was discovered by Dr. Holcomb. We were summoned by Hobart Fenton."
+
+Consciousness is an enigma. Hitherto Watson had been almost inert;
+his actions and manner of speech had been mechanical. That it was the
+natural result of the strange force that had thrown him out, no one
+doubted. The mention of Hobart Fenton jerked him into the full vigour of
+wide-awake thinking; he straightened himself.
+
+"Hobart! Hobart Fenton! Where is he?"
+
+"That we do not know," answered Sir Henry. "He was here a moment ago. It
+is almost too impossible for belief. Perhaps you can tell us."
+
+"You mean--"
+
+"Exactly. Into the Blind Spot. One and the other; your coming was
+coincident with his going!"
+
+Chick raised up. Even in that faint light they could appreciate the full
+vigour of his splendid form. He was even more of an athlete than in his
+college days, before the Blind Spot took him. And when he realised what
+Sir Henry had said he held up one magnificent arm, almost in the manner
+of benediction:
+
+"Hobart has gone through? Thank Heaven for that!"
+
+It was a puzzle. True, in that little group there was represented the
+accumulated wisdom of human effort. With the possible exception of the
+general, there was not a sceptic among them. They were ready to explain
+almost anything--but this.
+
+In the natural weakness of futility they had come to associate the
+aspect of death or terror with the Blind Spot. Yet, here was Watson!
+Watson, alive and strong; he was the reverse of what they had
+subconsciously expected.
+
+"What is this Blind Spot?" inquired Sir Henry evenly. "And what do you
+mean by giving thanks that Fenton has gone into it?"
+
+"Not now. Not one word of explanation until--What time is it?" Watson
+broke off to demand.
+
+They told him. He began to talk rapidly, with amazing force and
+decision, and in a manner whose sincerity left no chance for doubt.
+
+"Then we have five hours! Not one second to lose. Do what I say, and
+answer my questions!" Then: "We must not fail; one slip, and the whole
+world will be engulfed--in the unknown! Turn on the lights."
+
+There was that in the personality and the vehemence of the man that
+precluded opposition. Out of the Blind Spot had come a dynamic quality,
+along with the man; a quickening influence that made Watson swift, sure,
+and positive. Somehow they knew it was a moment of Destiny.
+
+Watson went on:
+
+"First, did Hobart Fenton open the Spot? Or was it a period? By 'period'
+I mean, did it open by chance, as it did when it caught Harry and me?
+Just what did Hobart do? Tell me!"
+
+It was a singular question. How could they answer it? However, Dr.
+Malloy related as much as he knew of what Hobart had done; his wires
+and apparatus were now merely a tangled mass of fused metals. Nothing
+remained intact but the blue gem and the red pebble.
+
+"I see. And this pebble: you found it by digging in the cellar, I
+suppose."
+
+How did he know that? Dr. Hansen brought that curiously heavy little
+stone and laid it in Watson's hand. The newcomer touched it with his
+finger, and for a brief moment he studied it. Then he looked up.
+
+"It's the small one," he stated. "And you found it in the cellar. It was
+very fortunate; the opening of the Spot was perhaps a little more than
+half chance. But it was wonderfully lucky. It let me out. And with the
+help of God and our own courage we may open it again, long enough to
+rescue Hobart, Harry, and Dr. Holcomb. Then--we must break the chain--we
+must destroy the revelation; we must close the Spot forever!"
+
+Small wonder that they couldn't understand what he meant. Dr. Hansen
+thought to cut in with a practical question:
+
+"My dear Chick, what's inside the Spot? We want to know!"
+
+But it was not Watson who answered. It was Mme. Le Fabre.
+
+"Spirits, of course."
+
+Watson gave a sudden laugh. This time he answered:
+
+"My dear lady, if you know what I know, and what Dr. Holcomb has
+discovered, you would ask YOURSELF a question or so. Possibly you
+yourself are a spirit!"
+
+"What!" she gasped. "I--a spirit!"
+
+"Exactly. But there is no time for questions. Afterwards--not now. Five
+hours, and we must--"
+
+Someone came to the door. It was Jerome. At the sight of Watson he
+stopped, clutching the stub of his cigar between his teeth. His grey
+eyes took in the other's form from head to shoe leather.
+
+"Back?" he inquired. "What did you find out, Watson? They must have fed
+you well over yonder!"
+
+And Jerome pointed toward the ceiling with his thumb. It wasn't in his
+dour nature to give way to enthusiasm; this was merely his manner of
+welcome. Watson smiled.
+
+"The eats were all right, Jerome, but not all the company. You're just
+the man I want. We have little time; none to spare for talk. Are you in
+touch with Bertha Holcomb?"
+
+The detective nodded.
+
+Watson took the chair that Fenton had so strangely vacated and reached
+for paper and pencil. Once or twice he stopped to draw a line, but
+mostly he was calculating. He referred constantly to a paper he took
+from his pocket. When he was through he spread his palm over what he had
+written.
+
+"Jerome!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You are no longer connected with headquarters, I presume. But--can you
+get men?"
+
+"If need be."
+
+"You will need them!" Just then Watson noticed the uniform of General
+Hume. "Jerome, can you give this officer a bodyguard?"
+
+It was both unusual and lightning-sudden. Nevertheless, there was
+something in Watson's manner that called for no challenge; something
+that would have brooked no refusal. And the general, although a sceptic,
+was acting solely from force of habit when he objected:
+
+"It seems to me, Watson, that you--"
+
+Those who were present are not likely to forget it. Some men are born,
+some rise, to the occasion; but Watson was both. He was clear-cut,
+dominant, inexorable. He levelled his pencil at the general.
+
+"It SEEMS to you! General, let me ask you: If your country's safety were
+at stake, would you hesitate to throw reinforcements into the breach?"
+
+"Hardly."
+
+"All right. It's settled. Take care of your red tape AFTERWARDS."
+
+He wheeled to the detective. "Jerome, this is a sketch of the
+compartments of Dr. Holcomb's safe. Not the large one in his house, but
+the small one in his laboratory. Go straight to Dwight Way. Give this
+note," indicating another paper, "to Bertha Holcomb. Tell her that her
+father is safe, and that I am out of the Blind Spot. Tell her you have
+come to open the laboratory safe. I've written down the combination. If
+it doesn't work use explosives; there's nothing inside which force can
+harm. In the compartment marked 'X' you will find a small particle about
+the size of a pea, wrapped in tin-foil, and locked in a small metal box.
+You will have to break the box. As for the contents, once you see the
+stone you can't mistake it; it will weigh about six pounds. Get it, and
+guard it with your life!"
+
+"All right."
+
+Jerome put Watson's instructions in his wallet, at the same time
+glancing about the room.
+
+"Where is Fenton?" he asked.
+
+It was Watson who answered. He gave us the first news that had ever come
+from the Blind Spot. He spoke with firm deliberation, as though in full
+realisation of the sensation:
+
+"Hobart Fenton has gone through the Blind Spot. Just now he is right
+here in this room."
+
+Sir Henry jumped.
+
+"In this room! Is that what you said, Watson?"
+
+The other ignored him.
+
+"Jerome, you haven't a minute to lose! You and the general; bring that
+stone back to this house at ANY cost! Hurry!"
+
+In another moment Jerome and Hume were gone. And few people, that day,
+suspected the purport of that body of silent men who crossed over the
+Bay of San Francisco. They were grim, and trusted, and under secret
+orders. They had a mission, did they but know it, as important as any
+in history. But they knew only that they were to guard Jerome and the
+general at all hazards. One peculiarly heavy stone, "the size of a pea"!
+How are we ever to calculate its value?
+
+As for the group remaining with Watson, not one of them ever dreamed
+that any danger might come out of the Blind Spot. Its manifestations had
+been local and mostly negative. No; the main incentive of their interest
+had been simply curiosity.
+
+But apparently Watson was above them all. He paid no further attention
+to them for a while; he bent at Fenton's desk and worked swiftly. At
+length he thrust his papers aside.
+
+"I want to see that cellar," he announced. "That is, the point where you
+found that red pebble!"
+
+Down in the basement, Sir Henry gave the details. When he came to
+mention the various liquids which Fenton had poured into the woodwork
+upstairs Watson examined the pool intently.
+
+"Quite so. They would come out here--naturally."
+
+"Naturally!"
+
+Sir Henry could not understand. His perplexity was reflected in the
+faces of Herold, the two physicians, Dr. Malloy, Miss Clarke, and Mme.
+Le Fabre--and Charlotte spoke for them all:
+
+"Can't you explain, Mr. Watson? The woodwork had nothing whatever to do
+with the cellar. There was the floor between, just as you see it now."
+
+"Naturally," Watson repeated. "It could be no other place! It was on its
+way to the other side, but it could go only half-way. Simply a matter
+of focus, you know. I beg pardon; you must hold your curiosity a little
+longer."
+
+He began measuring. First he located the line across the floorjoists
+overhead, where rested the partition separating the dining-room from
+the parlour. Finding the middle of this line, he dropped an improvised
+plumb-line to the ground; and from this spot as centre, using a string
+about ten feet long, he described a circle on the earth. Then, referring
+to his calculations, he proceeded to locate several points with small
+stakes pressed into the soil. Then he checked them off and nodded.
+
+"It's even better than the professor thought. His theory is all but
+proven. If Jerome and Hume can deliver the other stone without accident,
+we can save those now inside the Spot." Then, very solemnly: "But we
+face a heavy task. It will be another Thermopylae. We must hold the gate
+against an occult Xerxes, together with all his horde."
+
+"The hosts of the dead!" exclaimed Mme. Le Fabre.
+
+"No; the living! Just give me time, Madame, and you will see something
+hitherto undreamed of. As for your theory--tomorrow you may doubt
+whether you are living or dead! In other words, Dr. Holcomb has
+certainly proved the occult by material means. He has done it with a
+vengeance. In so doing he has left us in doubt as to ourselves; and
+unless he discovers the missing factor within the next few hours we are
+going to be in the anomalous position of knowing plenty about the next
+world, but nothing about ourselves."
+
+He paused. He must have known that their curiosity could not hold out
+much longer. He said:
+
+"Now, just one thing more, friends, and I can tell you everything, while
+we are waiting for Jerome and the general to return. But first I must
+see the one who preceded me out of the spot."
+
+"Ariadne!" from Charlotte, in wonder.
+
+"Ariadne!" exclaimed Watson. He was both puzzled and amazed. "Did you
+call her--Ariadne?"
+
+"She is upstairs," cut in Dr. Higgins.
+
+"I must see her!"
+
+A minute or two later they stood in the room where the girl lay. The
+coverlet was thrown back somewhat revealing the bare left arm and
+shoulder, and the delicately beautiful face upon the pillow. Her golden
+hair was spread out in riotous profusion. The other hand was just
+protruding from the coverlet, and displayed a faint red mark, showing
+where Hobart's bracelet had been fastened at the moment he disappeared.
+
+Charlotte stepped over and laid her hand against the girl's cheek.
+"Isn't she wonderful!" she murmured.
+
+But Dr. Higgins looked to Watson.
+
+"Do you know her?"
+
+The other nodded. He stooped over and listened to her breathing. His
+manner was that of reverence and admiration. He touched her hand.
+
+"I see how it must have happened. Precisely what I experienced, only--"
+Then: "You call her Ariadne?"
+
+"We had to call her something," replied Charlotte. "And the name--it
+just came, I suppose."
+
+"Perhaps. Anyhow, it was a remarkably good guess. Her true name is the
+Aradna."
+
+"THE Aradna? Who--what is she?"
+
+"Just that: the Aradna. She is one of the factors that may save us.
+And on earth we would call her queen." Then, without waiting for the
+inevitable question, Watson said:
+
+"Your professional judgment will soon come to the supreme test, Dr.
+Higgins. She is simply numbed and dazed from coming through the Spot."
+Charlotte had already described to him the girl's arrival. "The mystery
+is that she was permitted an hour of rationality before this came upon
+her. I wonder if Hobart's vitality had anything to do with it?"--half to
+himself. "As for the Rhamda"--he smiled--"he is merely interested in
+the Spot; that is all. He would never harm the Aradna; he had nothing
+whatever to do with her condition. We were mistaken about the man.
+Anyway, it is the Spot of Life that interests us now."
+
+"The Spot of Life," repeated Sir Henry. "Is that--"
+
+"Yes; the Blind Spot, as it is known from the other side. It overtops
+all your sciences, embraces every cult, and lies at the base of all
+truth. It is--it is everything."
+
+"Explain!"
+
+Watson turned to the head upon the pillow. He ventured to touch the
+cheek, with a trace of tenderness in his action and of wistfulness near
+to reverence. It was not love; it was rather as one might touch a fairy.
+In both spirit and substance she was truly of another world. Watson gave
+a soft sigh and looked up at the Englishman.
+
+"Yes, I can explain. Now that I know she is well, I shall tell you all
+I know from the beginning. It's certainly your turn to ask questions.
+I may not be able to tell you all that you want to know; but at least I
+know more than any other person this side of the Spot. Let us go down to
+the library."
+
+He glanced at a clock. "We have nearly five hours remaining. Our test
+will come when we open the Spot. We must not only open it, but we must
+close it at all costs."
+
+They had reached the lower hall. At the front door Watson paused and
+turned to the others.
+
+"Just a moment. We may fail tonight. In case we do, I would like one
+last look at my own world--at San Francisco."
+
+He opened the door. The rest hung back; though they could not
+understand, they could sense, vaguely, the emotion of this strange man
+of brave adventure. The scene, the setting, the beauty, were all akin
+to the moment. Watson, stood bareheaded, looking down at the blinking
+lights of the city of the Argonauts. The moon in a starlit sky was
+drifting through a ragged lace of cloud. And over it all was a momentary
+hush, as though the man's emotion had called for it.
+
+No one spoke. At last Watson closed the door. And there was just the
+trace of tears in his eyes as he spoke:
+
+"Now my friends--" And led the way into the parlour.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+THE OCCULT WORLD
+
+
+"In telling what I know," began Watson, "I shall use a bit of a preface.
+It's necessary, in a way, if you are to understand me; besides, it will
+give you the advantage of looking into the Blind Spot with the clear
+eyes of reason. I intend to tell all, to omit nothing. My purpose in
+doing this is that, in case we should fail tonight, you will be able to
+give my account to the world."
+
+It was a strange introduction. His listeners exchanged thoughtful
+glances. But they all affirmed, and Sir Henry hitched his chair almost
+impatiently.
+
+"All right, Mr. Watson. Please proceed."
+
+"To begin with," said Watson, "I assume that you all know of Dr.
+Holcomb's announcement concerning the Blind Spot. You remember that he
+promised to solve the occult; how he foretold that he would prove it not
+by immaterial but by the very material means; that he would produce the
+fact and the substance.
+
+"Now, the professor had promised to deliver something far greater than
+he had thought it to be. At the same time, what he knew of the
+Blind Spot was part conjecture and part fact. Like his forebears and
+contemporaries, he looked upon man as the real being.
+
+"But it's a question, now, as to which is reality and which is not.
+There is not a branch of philosophy that looks upon the question in that
+light. Bishop Berkeley came near and he has been followed by others; but
+they all have been deceived by their own sophistry. However, except for
+the grossest materialists, all thinkers take cognizance of a hereafter.
+
+"No one dreamed of a Blind Spot and what it may lead to, what it might
+contain. We are five-sensed; we interpret the universe by the measure of
+five yardsticks. Yet, the Blind Spot takes even those away; the more we
+know, it seems, the less certain we are of ourselves. As I said to Mme.
+Le Fabre, it is a difficult question to determine, after all, just who
+are the ghosts. At any rate, I KNOW"--and he paused for effect--"I know
+that there are uncounted millions who look upon us and our workings as
+entirely supernatural!
+
+"Remember that what I have to tell you is just as real as your own lives
+have been since babyhood.
+
+"It was slightly over a year ago that my last night on the earth
+arrived.
+
+"I had gone out for the evening, in the forlorn hope of meeting a
+friend, of having some slight taste of pleasure before the end came.
+
+"For several days I had been labouring under a sort of premonition,
+knowing that my life was slowly seeping away and that my vitality was
+slipping, bit by bit, to what I thought must be death. Had I then known
+what I know now, I could have saved myself. But if I had done it, if I
+had saved myself, we would never have found Dr. Holcomb.
+
+"Perhaps it was the same fate that led me to Harry, that night. I don't
+know. Nevertheless, if there is any truth in what I have learned on
+the other side of the Blind Spot, it would seem that there is something
+higher than mere fate. I had never believed in luck; but when everything
+works out to a fraction of a breath, one ceases to be sceptical on the
+question of destiny and chance. _I_ say, everything that happened that
+night was FORCED from the other side. In short, my giving that ring to
+Harry was simply a link in the chain of circumstances. It just had to
+be; the PROPHECY would not have had it otherwise."
+
+Without stopping to explain what he meant by the word "prophecy," Watson
+went on:
+
+"That's what makes it puzzling. I have never been able to understand
+how every bit has dovetailed with such exactness. We--you and I--are
+certainly not supernatural; and yet, on the other side of the Spot, the
+proof is overwhelmingly convincing.
+
+"I was very weak that night. So weak that it is difficult for me to
+remember. The last I recollect was my going to the back of the house;
+to the kitchen, I think. I had a light in my hands. The boys were in the
+front room, waiting. One of them had opened a door some yards away from
+where I stood.
+
+"Coming as it did, on the instant, it is difficult to describe. But I
+knew it instinctively for what it was: the dot of blue on the ceiling,
+and the string of light. Then, a sensation of falling, like dropping
+into space itself. It is hard to describe the horrifying terror of
+plunging head on from an immense height to a plain at a vastly lower
+level.
+
+"And that's all that I remember--from this side." [Footnote: NOTE.--In
+justice to Mr. Watson, the present writers have thought it best at this
+stage to transpose the story from the first to the third person. Any
+narrative, unless it is negative in its material, is hard to give in
+the first person; for where the narrator has played an active, positive
+part, he must either curb himself or fall under the slur of braggadocio.
+Yet, the world wants the details exactly as they happened; hence the
+transposition. EDITORS.]
+
+Watson opened his eyes.
+
+The first thing was light and a sense of great pain. There was a
+pressure at the back of the eyeballs, a poignant sensation not unlike
+a knife-thrust; that, and a sudden fear of madness, of drivelling
+helplessness.
+
+The abrupt return of consciousness in such a condition is not easy to
+imagine. After all he had gone through, this strange sequel must have
+been terribly puzzling to him. He was a man of good education, well
+versed in psychology; in the first rush of consciousness he tried, as
+best he could, to weigh himself up in the balance of aberration. And it
+was this very fact that gave him his reassurance; for it told him that
+he could think, could reason, could count on a mind in full function.
+
+But he could not see. The pain in his eyeballs was blinding. There was
+nothing he could distinguish; everything was woven together, a mere
+blaze of wonderful, iridescent, blazing coloration.
+
+But if he could not see, he could feel. The pain was excruciating.
+He closed his eyes and fell to thinking, curiously enough, that the
+experience was similar to what he had gone through when upon learning to
+swim, he had first opened his eyes under the water. It had been under
+a blazing sun. The pain and the colour--it was much the same, only
+intensified.
+
+Then he knew that he was very tired. The mere effort of that one thought
+had cost him vitality. He dropped back into unconsciousness, such as
+was more insensibility than slumber. He had strange dreams, of people
+walking, of women, and of many voices. It was blurred and indistinct,
+yet somehow not unreal. Then, after an unguessable length of time--he
+awoke.
+
+He was much stronger. The lapse may have been very long; he could not
+know. But the pain in his eyes was gone; and he ventured to open the
+lids again in the face of the light that had been so baffling. This time
+he could see; not distinctly, but still enough to assure him of reality.
+By closing his eyes at intervals he was able to rest them and to
+accustom them gradually to the new degree of light. And after a bit he
+could see plainly.
+
+He was on a cot, and in a room almost totally different from any that
+he had ever seen before. The colour of the walls, even, was dissimilar;
+likewise the ceiling. It was white, in a way, and yet unlike it; neither
+did it resemble any of the various tints; to give it a name that he
+afterward learned--alna--implies but little. It was utterly new to him.
+
+Apparently he was alone. The room was not large; about the size of an
+ordinary bedroom. And after the first novelty of the unplaceable colour
+had worn off he began to take stock of his own person.
+
+First, he was covered by the finest of bed clothing, thick but
+exceedingly light. There was no counterpane, but two blankets and two
+sheets; and none of them corresponded to any colour or material he had
+ever known. He only knew that their tints were light rather than dark.
+
+Next, he moved his hands out from under the coverings, and held them up
+before his eyes. He was immensely puzzled. He naturally expected to see
+the worn, emaciated hands which had been his on that dramatic night; but
+the ones before him were plump, normal, of a healthy pink. The wrists
+likewise were in perfect condition, also his arms. He could not account
+for this sudden return to health, of the vigour he had known before he
+began to wear the ring. He lay back pondering.
+
+Presently he fell to examining his clothes. There were two garments made
+of a silk-like textile, rather heavy as to weight, but exceedingly soft
+as to touch. They were slightly darker than the bed clothing. In a way
+they were much like pyjamas, except that both were designed to be merely
+slipped into place, without buttons or draw-strings. That is, they were
+tailored to fit snugly over the shoulders and waist, while loose enough
+elsewhere.
+
+Then he noticed the walls of the room. They were after a simple,
+symmetrical style; coved--to use an architectural expression--or curved,
+where the corner would come with a radius much larger than common,
+amounting to four or five feet; so that a person of ordinary height
+could not stand close to the wall without stooping. Where the coved
+portion flowed into the perpendicular of the wall there was a broad
+moulding, like a plate rail, which acted as a support for the hanging
+pictures.
+
+Watson counted four of these pictures. Instinctively he felt that they
+might give him a valuable clue as to his whereabouts. For, while his
+mind had cleared enough for him to feel sure that he had truly come
+through the Spot, he knew nothing more. Where was he? What would the
+pictures tell?
+
+The first was directly before his eyes. In size perhaps two by three
+feet, with its greater length horizontal, it was more of a landscape
+than a portrait. And Watson's eagerness for the subject itself made him
+forget to note whether the work was mechanically or manually executed.
+
+For it revealed a girl--about ten or twelve--very slightly draped,
+enjoying a wild romp with a most extraordinary creature. It was this
+animal that made the picture amazing; there was no subtle significance
+in the scene--there was nothing remarkable about the technique. The
+whole interest, for Watson, was in the animal.
+
+It was a deer; perfect and beautiful, but cast in a Lilliputian mould.
+It stood barely a foot high, the most delicate thing he had ever looked
+upon. Mature in every detail of its proportion, the dainty hoofs, the
+fragile legs, smooth-coated body, and small, wide-antlered head--a
+miniature eight-pointer--made such a vision as might come to the dreams
+of a hunter.
+
+Chick rose up in bed, in order to examine it more closely. Immediately
+he fell back again slightly dizzy. He closed his eyes.
+
+Shortly he began examining the other pictures. Two of these were
+simple flower studies. Watson scarcely knew which puzzled him most; the
+blossoms or their containers. For the vases were like large-sized loving
+cups, broad as to body, and provided with a handle on either side. Their
+colours were unfamiliar. As for the blossoms--in one study the blooms
+were a half-dozen in number, and more like Shasta daisies than anything
+else. But their colour was totally unlike, while they possessed wide,
+striped stamens that gave the flowers an identity all their own. In
+the other vase were several varieties, and every one absolutely
+unrecognisable.
+
+On the opposite side of the room was something fairly familiar. At
+first glance it seemed a simple basket of kittens, done in black and
+white--something like crayon, and yet resembling sepia. Alongside the
+basket, however, was a spoon, one end resting on the edge of a saucer.
+And it was the size of the spoon that commanded Chick's attention;
+rather, the size of the kittens, any one of which could have curled up
+comfortably in the bowl of the spoon! Judging relatively, if it were an
+ordinary tablespoon, then the kittens were smaller than the smallest of
+mice.
+
+Chick gave it up. Presently he began speculating about the time. He
+decided that, whatever the hour might be, it was still daylight. In one
+wall of the room was a large, oval window, of a material which may as
+well be called glass, frosted, so as to permit no view of what might lie
+outside. But it allowed plenty of light to enter.
+
+Cut in the opposite wall was a doorway, hung with a curtain instead of
+a door. This curtain was a gauzy material, but its maroonlike shade
+completely hid all view of whatever lay beyond.
+
+Chick waited and listened. Hitherto he had not heard a sound. There was
+not even that subtle, mixed hum from the distance that we are accustomed
+to associate with silence. He felt certain that he was inside the Blind
+Spot; but as to just where that locality might lie, he knew as little
+as before. He knew only that he in a building of some sort. Where, and
+what, was the building?
+
+Just then he noticed a cord dangling from the ceiling. It came down to
+within six inches of his head. He gave it a pull.
+
+Whereupon he heard a faint, musical jangling in the distance. He tried
+to analyse the sound. It was not bell-like; perhaps the word "tinkling"
+would serve better. Provisionally, Chick placed the key at middle D.
+
+A moment later he heard steps outside the curtain. They were very soft
+and light and deliberate; and almost at the same instant a delicate
+white hand moved the curtain aside.
+
+It was a woman. Chick lay back and wondered. Although not beautiful she
+was very good to look at, with large blue eyes of a deep tenderness and
+sympathy, even features, and a wonderful fold of rich brown hair held in
+place by a satiny net.
+
+She started when she saw Chick's wide open eyes; then smiled, a motherly
+smile and compassionate. She was dressed in a manner at once becoming
+and odd, to one unaccustomed, in a gown that draped the entire figure,
+yet left the right arm and shoulder bare. Chick noticed that arm
+especially; it was white as marble, moulded full, and laced with fine
+blue veins. He had never seen an arm like that. Nor such a woman. She
+might have been forty.
+
+She came over to the bed and placed a hand on Chick's forehead. Again
+she smiled, and nodded.
+
+"How do you feel?" she asked.
+
+Now this is a strange thing; Watson could not account for it. For,
+although she did not speak English, yet he could understand her quite
+well. At the moment it seemed perfectly obvious; afterward, the fact
+became amazing.
+
+He answered in the same way, his thoughts directing his lips. And he
+found that as long as he made no conscious attempt to select the words
+for his thought, he could speak unhesitatingly.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+She smiled indulgently, but did not answer.
+
+"Is this the--Blind Spot?"
+
+"The Blind Spot! I do not understand."
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"Your nurse. Perhaps," soothingly, "you would like to talk to the
+Rhamda."
+
+"The Rhamda!"
+
+"Yes. The Rhamda Geos."
+
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+THE PLUNGE
+
+
+The woman left him. For a while Chick reflected upon what she had said.
+In full rush of returning vigour his mind was working clearly and with
+analytical exactness.
+
+For the first time he noticed a heaviness in the air, overladen,
+pregnant. He became aware of a strange, undercurrent of life; of an
+exceedingly faint, insistent sound, pulse-like and rhythmical, like the
+breathing undertones of multitudes. He was a city man, and accustomed
+to the murmuring throbs of a metropolitan heart. But this was very
+different.
+
+Presently, amid the strangeness, he could distinguish the tinkle of
+elfin bells, almost imperceptible, but musical. The whole air was laden
+with a subdued music, lined, as it were, with a golden vibrancy of
+tintinnabulary cadence--distant, subdued, hardly more than a whisper,
+yet part of the air itself.
+
+It gave him the feeling that he was in a dream. In the realms of
+the subconscious he had heard just such sounds--exotic and
+unearthly--fleeting and evanescent.
+
+The notion of dreams threw his mind into sudden alertness. In an instant
+he was thinking systematically, and in the definite realisation of his
+plight.
+
+The woman had spoken of "the Rhamda." True, she had added a qualifying
+"Geos," but that did not matter. Whether Geos or Avec, it was still the
+Rhamda. By this time Watson was convinced that the word indicated some
+sort of title--whether doctor, or lord, or professor, was not important.
+What interested Chick was identity. If he could solve that he could get
+at the crux of the Blind Spot.
+
+He thought quickly. Apparently, it was Rhamda Avec who had trapped Dr.
+Holcomb. Why? What had been the man's motive? Watson could not say.
+He only knew the ethics of the deed was shaded with the subtleness
+of villainy. That behind it all was a purpose, a directing force and
+intelligence that was inexorable and irresistible.
+
+One other thing he knew; the Rhamda Avec came out of the region in which
+he, Watson, now found himself. Rather, he could have come from nowhere
+else. And Watson could feel certain that somewhere, somehow, he would
+find Dr. Holcomb.
+
+In that moment Watson determined upon his future course of action. He
+decided to state nothing, intimate nothing, either by word or deed, that
+might in any manner incriminate or endanger the professor. It was for
+him to learn everything possible and to do all he could to gain his
+points, without giving a particle of information in return. He must play
+a lone hand and a cautious one--until he found Dr. Holcomb.
+
+The fact of his position didn't appall him. Somehow, it had just the
+opposite effect. Perhaps it was because his strength had come back, and
+had brought with it the buoyancy that is natural to health. He could
+sense the vitality that surrounded him, poised, potential, waiting only
+the proper attitude on his part to become an active force. Something
+tremendous had happened to him, to make him feel like that. He was ready
+for anything.
+
+Five minutes passed. Watson was alert and ready when the woman returned,
+together with a companion. She smiled kindly, and announced:
+
+"The Rhamda Geos."
+
+At first Chick was startled. There was a resemblance to Rhamda Avec
+that ran almost to counterpart. The same refinement and elegance, the
+fleeting suggestion of youth, the evident age mingled with the same
+athletic ease and grace of carriage. Only he was somewhat shorter. The
+eyes were almost identical, with the peculiar quality of the iris and
+pupil that suggested, somehow, a culture inherited out of the centuries.
+He was dressed in a black robe, such as would befit a scholar.
+
+He smiled, and held out a hand. Watson noted the firm clasp, and the
+cold thrill of magnetism.
+
+"You wish to speak with me?"
+
+The voice was soft and modulated, resonant, of a tone as rich as bronze.
+
+"Yes. Where am I--sir?"
+
+"You do not know?"
+
+It seemed to Watson that there was real astonishment in the man's eyes.
+As yet it had not come to Chick that he himself might be just as much
+a mystery as the other. The only question in his mind at the moment was
+locality.
+
+"Is this the Blind Spot?"
+
+"The Blind Spot!"--with the same lack of comprehension that the woman
+had shown. "I do not understand you."
+
+"Well, how did I get here?"
+
+"Oh, as to that, you were found in the Temple of the Leaf. You were
+lying unconscious on the floor."
+
+"A temple! How did I get there, sir? Do you know?"
+
+"We only know that a moment before there was nothing; next
+instant--you."
+
+Watson thought. There was a subconscious sound that still lingered in
+his memory; a sound full-toned, flooding, enveloping. Was there any
+connection--
+
+"'The Temple of the Leaf,' you call it, sir. I seem to remember having
+heard a bell. Is there such a thing in that temple?"
+
+The Rhamda Geos smiled, his eyes brightening. "It is sometimes called
+the Temple of the Bell."
+
+"Ah!" A pause, and Watson asked, "Where is this temple? And is this room
+a part of the building?"
+
+"No. You are in the Sar-Amenive Hospital, an institution of the
+Rhamdas."
+
+The Rhamdas! So there were several of them. A sort of society, perhaps.
+
+"In San Francisco?"
+
+"No. San Francisco! Again I fail to understand. This locality is known
+as the Mahovisal."
+
+"The Mahovisal!" Watson thought in silence for a moment. He noted the
+extremely keen interest of the Rhamda, the ultra-intelligent flicker of
+the eyes, the light of query and critical analysis. "You call this the
+Mahovisal, sir? What is it: town, world or institution?"
+
+The other smiled again. The lines about his sensitive mouth were
+susceptible of various interpretations: emotion, or condescension, or
+the satisfying feeling that comes from the simple vindication of some
+inner conviction. His whole manner was that of interest and respectful
+wonder.
+
+"You have never heard of the Mahovisal? Never?"
+
+"Not until this minute," answered Watson.
+
+"You have no knowledge of anything before? Do you know WHO YOU ARE?"
+
+"I"--Watson hesitated, wondering whether he had best withhold this
+information. He decided to chance the truth. "My name is Chick Watson. I
+am--an American."
+
+"An American?"
+
+The Rhamda pronounced the word with a roll of the "r" that sounded more
+like the Chinese "Mellican" than anything else. It was evident that
+the sounds were totally unfamiliar to him. And his manner was a bit
+indefinite, doubtful, yet weighted with care, as he slowly repeated the
+question:
+
+"An American? Once more I don't understand. I have never heard the word,
+my dear sir. You are neither D'Hartian nor Kospian; although there are
+some--materialists for the most part--who contend that you are just as
+any one else. That is--a man."
+
+"Perhaps I am," returned Watson, utterly confounded. He did not know
+what to say. He had never heard of a Kospian or a D'Hartian, nor of the
+Mahovisal. It made things difficult; he couldn't get started. Most of
+all, he wanted information; and, instead, he was being questioned. The
+best he could do was to equivocate.
+
+As for the Rhamda, he frowned. Apparently his eager interest had been
+dashed with disappointment. But only slightly, as Watson could see; the
+man was of such culture and intellect as to have perfect control over
+his emotions. In his balance and poise he was very like Avec, and he had
+the same pleasing manner.
+
+"My dear sir," he began, "if you are really a man, then you can tell me
+something of great importance."
+
+"I" Chick retorted, "can tell you nothing until you first let me know
+just where I stand!"
+
+Certainly there was a lack of common ground. Until one of them supplied
+it, there could be no headway. Watson realised that his whole future
+might revolve about the axis of his next words.
+
+The Rhamda thought a moment, dubiously, like one who has had a pet
+theory damaged, though not shattered. Suddenly he spoke to the woman.
+
+"Open the portal," said he.
+
+She stepped to the oval window, touched a latch, and swung the pane
+horizontally upon two pivots. Immediately the room was flooded with a
+strange effulgence, amber-like, soft and mellow, as real sunshine.
+
+But it was NOT real sunshine!
+
+The window was set in a rather thick wall, beyond which Watson could
+see a royal sapphiric sky, flecked with white and purple and
+amethyst-threaded clouds poised above a great amber sleeping sun.
+
+It was the sun that challenged attention. It was so mild, and yet so
+utterly beyond what might be expected. In diameter it would have made
+six of the one Watson had known; in the blue distance, touching the rim
+of the horizon, it looked exactly like a huge golden plate set edgewise
+on the end of the earth.
+
+And--he could look straight at it without blinking!
+
+His thoughts ran back to the first account of the Rhamda. The man had
+looked straight at the sun and had been blinded. This accounted for
+it! The man had been accustomed to this huge, soft-glowing beauty. An
+amberous sun, deep yellow, sleeping; could it be, after all, dreamland?
+
+But there were other things: the myriad tintinnabulations of these
+microscopic bells, never ceasing, musically throbbing; and now, the
+exotic delight of the softest of perfumes, an air barely tinted with
+violet and rose, and the breath of woodland wild flowers. He could
+not comprehend it. He looked at the purple clouds above the lotus sun,
+hardly believing, and deeply in doubt.
+
+A great white bird dived suddenly out of the heavens and flew into
+the focus of his vision. In all the tales of his boyhood, of large and
+beautiful rocs and other birds, he had come across nothing like this.
+From the perspective it must have measured a full three hundred feet
+from tip to tip; it was shaped like a swan and flew like an eagle, with
+magnificent, lazy sweeps of the wings; while its plumage was as white as
+the snow, new fallen on the mountains. And right behind it, in pursuit,
+hurtled a huge black thing, fully as large and just as swift; a
+tremendous black crow, so black that its sides gave off a greenish
+shimmer.
+
+Just then the woman closed the window. It was as well; Watson was only
+human, and he could hide his curiosity just so long and no longer. He
+turned to the Rhamda.
+
+The man nodded. "I thought so," said he with satisfaction, as one might
+who has proven a pet and previous theory.
+
+Watson tried from another angle.
+
+"Just who do you think I am, sir?"
+
+The other smiled as before. "It is not what I may think," he replied:
+"but what I know. You are the proof that was promised us by the great
+Rhamda Avec. You are--THE FACT AND THE SUBSTANCE!"
+
+He waited for Watson's answer. Stupefaction delayed it. After a moment
+the Rhamda continued:
+
+"Is it not so? Am I not right? You are surely out of the occult, my dear
+sir. You are a spirit!"
+
+It took Chick wholly by surprise. He had been ready to deal with
+anything--but this. It was unreal, weird, impossible. And yet, why not?
+The professor had set out to remove forever the screen that had hitherto
+shrouded the shadow: but what had he revealed? What had the Spot
+disclosed? Unreality or REALITY? Which is which?
+
+In the inspiration of the moment, Chick saw that he had reached the
+crossroads of the occult. There was no time to think; there was time
+only for a plunge. And, like all strong men, Watson chose the deeper
+water.
+
+He turned to the Rhamda Geos.
+
+"Yes," said he quietly. "I--am a spirit."
+
+
+
+
+XXXI
+
+UP FOR BREATH
+
+
+Rhamda Geos, instead of showing the concern and uneasiness that most
+men would show in the presence of an avowed ghost, evinced nothing but
+a deep and reverent happiness. He took Watson's hand almost shyly. And
+while his manner was not effusive, it had the warmth that comes from the
+heart of a scholar.
+
+"As a Rhamda," he declared, "I must commend myself for being the first
+to speak to you. And I must congratulate you, my dear sir, on having
+fallen, not into the hands of Bar Senestro, but into those of my own
+kind. It is a proof of the prophecy, and a vindication of the wisdom of
+the Ten Thousand.
+
+"I bid you welcome to the Thomahlia, and I offer you my services, as
+guide and sponsor."
+
+Chick did not reply at once. The chance he had taken was one of those
+rare decisions that come to genius; the whole balance of his fate might
+swing upon his sudden impulse. Not that he had any compunction; but he
+felt that it tied him down. It restricted him. Certainly almost any role
+would be easier than that of a spirit.
+
+He didn't feel like a ghost. He wondered just how a ghost would act,
+anyhow. What was more, he could not understand such a queer assumption
+on the Rhamda's part. Why had he seemed to WANT Chick a ghost? Watson
+was natural, human, embodied, just like the Rhamda. This was scarcely
+his idea of a phantom's life. Most certainly, the two of them were men,
+nothing else; if one was a wraith, so was the other. But--how to account
+for it?
+
+Again he thought of Rhamda Avec. The words of Geos, "The Fact and the
+Substance," had been exactly synonymous with what had been said of Avec
+by Dr. Holcomb, "The proof of the occult."
+
+Was it indeed possible that these two great ones, from opposite poles,
+had actually torn away the veil of the shadow? And was this the place
+where he, Watson, must pose as a spirit, if he were to be accepted as
+genuine?
+
+The thought was a shock. He must play the same part here that the Rhamda
+had played on the other side of the Spot; but he would have to do
+it without the guiding wisdom of Avec. Besides, there was something
+sinister in the unknown force that had engulfed so strong a mind as the
+professor's; for while Watson's fate had been of his own seeking, that
+of the doctor smacked too much of treachery.
+
+He turned to the Rhamda Geos with a new question:
+
+"This Rhamda Avec--was he a man like yourself?"
+
+The other brightened again, and asked in return:
+
+"Then you have seen him!"
+
+"I--I do not know," answered Watson, caught off his guard. "But the name
+is familiar. I don't remember well. My mind is vague and confused. I
+recall a world, a wonderful world it was from which I came, and a great
+many people. But I can't place myself; I hardly--let me see--"
+
+The other nodded sympathetic approval.
+
+"I understand. Don't exert yourself. It is hardly to be expected that
+one forced out of the occult could come among us with his faculties
+unimpaired. We have had many communications with your world, and have
+always been frustrated by this one gulf which may not be crossed. When
+real thought gets across the border, it is often indefinite,
+sometimes mere drivel. Such answers as come from the void are usually
+disappointing, no matter how expert our mediums may be in communicating
+with the dead."
+
+"The dead! Did you say--the dead?"
+
+"Certainly; the dead. Are you not of the dead?"
+
+Watson shook his head emphatically.
+
+"Absolutely not! Not where I came from. We are all very much alive!"
+
+The other watched him curiously, his great eyes glowing with enthusiasm;
+the enthusiasm of the born seeker of the truth.
+
+"You don't mean," he asked, "that you have the same passions that we
+have here in life?"
+
+"I mean," said Watson, "that we hate, love, swear; we are good and we
+are evil; and we play games and go fishing."
+
+Geos rubbed his hands in a dignified sort of glee. What had been said
+coincided, apparently, with another of his pet theories.
+
+"It is splendid," he exulted, "splendid! And just in line with my
+thesis. You shall tell it before the Council of the Rhamdas. It will be
+the greatest day since the speaking of the Jarados!"
+
+Watson wondered just who this Jarados might be; but for the moment he
+went back to the previous question.
+
+"This Rhamda Avec: you were about to tell me about him. Let me have as
+much as I can understand, sir."
+
+"Ah, yes! The great Rhamda Avec. Perhaps you may recall him when your
+mind clears a little more. My dear sir, he is, or was, the chief of the
+Rhamdas of all the Thomahlia."
+
+"What is the 'Thomahlia'?"
+
+"The Thomahlia! Why, it is called the world; our name for the world.
+It comprises, physically, land, water and air; politically, it embraces
+D'Hartia, Kospia and a few minor nations."
+
+"Who are the Rhamdas?"
+
+"They are the heads of--of the Thomahlia; not the nominal nor
+political nor religious heads--they are neither judicial, executive nor
+legislative; but the real heads, still above. They might be called the
+supreme college of wisdom, of science and of research. Also, they are
+the keepers of the bell and its temple, and the interpreters of the
+Prophecy of the Jarados."
+
+"I see. You are a sort of priesthood."
+
+"No. The priesthood is below us. The priests take what orders we choose
+to give, and are purely--"
+
+"Superstitious?"
+
+The Rhamda's eyes snapped, just a trifle.
+
+"Not at all, my dear sir! They are good, sincere men. Only, not being
+intellectually adept enough to be admitted to the real secrets, the real
+knowledge, they give to all things a provisional explanation based upon
+a settled policy. Not being Rhamdas, they are simply not aware that
+everything has an exact and absolute explanation."
+
+"In other words," put in Watson, "they are scientists; they have not
+lifted themselves up to the plane of inquisitive doubt."
+
+Still the Rhamda shook his head.
+
+"Not quite that, either, my dear sir. Those below us are not ignorant;
+they are merely nearer to the level of the masses than we are. In fact,
+they are the people's rulers; these priests and other similar classes.
+But we, the Rhamdas, are the rulers of the rulers. We differ from them
+in that we have no material ends to subserve. Being at the top, with no
+motive save justice and advancement, our judgments are never questioned,
+and for the same reason, seldom passed.
+
+"But we are far above the plane of doubt that you speak of; we passed
+out of it long ago. That is the first stage of true science; afterwards
+comes the higher levels where all things have a reason; ethics,
+inspiration, thought, emotion--"
+
+"And--the judgment of the Jarados?"
+
+Watson could not have told why he said it. It was impulse, and the
+impromptu suggestion of a half-thought. But the effect of his words upon
+the Rhamda and the nurse told him that, inadvertently, he had struck a
+keynote. Both started, especially the woman. Watson took note of this
+in particular, because of the ingrained acceptance of the feminine in
+matter of belief.
+
+"What do you know?" was her eager interruption. "You have seen the
+Jarados?"
+
+As for the Rhamda, he looked at Watson with shrewd, calculating eyes.
+But they were still filled with wonder.
+
+"Can you tell us?" he asked. "Try and think!"
+
+Chick knew that he had gained a point. He had been dealt a trump
+card; but he was too clever to play it at once. He was on his own
+responsibility and was carrying a load that required the finest
+equilibrium.
+
+"I really do not know," he said. "I--I must have time to think. Coming
+across the border that way you must give me time. You were telling me
+about the Rhamdas in general; now tell me about Avec in particular."
+
+Geos nodded as though he could understand the fog that beclouded
+Watson's mind.
+
+"The Rhamda Avec is, or was, the wisest of them all; the head and the
+chief, and by far the most able. Few beside his own fellows knew it,
+however; another than he was the nominal head, and officiated for
+him whenever necessary. Avec had little social intercourse; he was a
+prodigious student.
+
+"We are a body of learned men, you understand, and we stand at the
+peak of all that has been discovered through hundreds upon hundreds
+of centuries, so that at the present day we are the culmination of the
+combined effort and thought of man since the beginning of time. Each
+generation of Rhamdas must be greater than the one preceding. When I die
+and pass on to your world I must leave something new and worth-while
+to my successor; some thought, wisdom, or deed that may be of use to
+mankind. I cannot be a Rhamda else. We are a set of supreme priests, who
+serve man at the shrine of intelligence, not of dogma.
+
+"Of course, we are not to be judged too highly. All research, when it
+steps forward must go haltingly; there are many paths into the unknown
+that look like the real one. Hence, we have among us various schools of
+thought, and each following a different trail.
+
+"I myself am a spiritist. I believe that we can, and often have,
+communicated with your world at various times. There are others who do
+not grant it; there are Rhamdas who are inclined to lean more to the
+materialist's side of things, who rely entirely, when it comes to
+questions of this kind, upon their faith in the teachings of the
+Jarados. There are some, too, who believe in the value of speculation,
+and who contend that only through contemplation can man lift himself to
+the full fruits of realisation. At the head of us all--the Rhamda Avec!"
+
+"What was his belief?"
+
+"Let us say he believed ALL. He was eclectic. He held that we were
+all of us a bit right, and each of us a whole lot wrong. It was his
+contention, however, that there was not one thing that could not be
+proven; that the secret of life, while undoubtedly a secret in every
+sense of the word, is still very concrete, it could be proven!"
+
+Watson nodded. He remembered hearing another man make just such a
+statement--Dr. Holcomb.
+
+"For years he worked in private," went on Geos. "We never knew just what
+he was doing; until, one day, he called us together and delivered his
+lecture."
+
+"His lecture?"
+
+"Rather, his prophecy. For it was all that. Not that he spoke at great
+length; it was but a talk. He announced that he believed the time had
+come to prove the occult. That it could be done, and done only through
+concrete, material means; and that whatever existed, certainly could be
+demonstrated. He was going to pull aside the curtain that had hitherto
+cut off the shadow.
+
+"'I am going to prove the occult,' he said. 'In three days I shall
+return with the fact and the substance. And then I propose to deliver my
+greatest lecture, my final thesis, in which my whole life shall come
+to a focus. I shall bring the proof for your eyes and ears, for your
+fingers to explore and be satisfied. You shall behold the living truth."
+
+"'And the subject of my lecture--the subject of my lecture will be The
+Spot of Life.'"
+
+
+
+
+XXXII
+
+THROUGH UNKNOWN WATERS
+
+
+The SPOT of Life! And the subject of Dr. Holcomb's lecture, promised but
+never delivered, had been announced as--The Blind SPOT!
+
+To Watson it was fairly astounding to discover that the two--Holcomb
+and Avec--had reached simultaneously for the curtain of the shadow. The
+professor had said that it would be "the greatest day since Columbus."
+And so it had proven, did the world but know it.
+
+"And--the Rhamda Avec never returned?" asked Chick.
+
+"No."
+
+"But he sent back something within three days?" Watson was thinking,
+of course, of the doctor who had disappeared on the day which, Jerome
+overheard the Rhamda to say, was the last of his stay.
+
+But Geos did not reply. Why, Chick could not guess. He thought it best
+not to press the question; in good time, if he went at it carefully,
+he could gain his end with safety. At the moment he must not arouse
+suspicion. He chose another query.
+
+"Did Avec go alone?"
+
+"No. The Nervina went with him. Rather, she followed within a few
+hours."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+It was out before Watson could think. The Rhamda looked up suddenly.
+
+"Then you have seen the Nervina! You know her?"
+
+Chick lied. It was not his intention, just at present, to tie himself
+down to anything that might prove compromising or restraining.
+
+"The name is--familiar. Who is this Nervina?"
+
+"She is one of the queens. I thought--My dear sir, she is one of the
+queens of Thomahlia, half Kospian, half D'Hartian; of the first royal
+line running through from the day of the Jarados."
+
+Chick cogitated for a moment. Then, taking an entirely new tack:
+
+"You say the Rhamda and this Nervina, independently, solved the mystery
+of the Spot of Life, I believe you call it. And that Spot leads,
+apparently, into the occult?"
+
+"Apparently, if not positively. It was the wisdom of Avec, mostly. He
+had been in communication with your world by means of his own discovery
+and application. It was all in line with the prophecy.
+
+"Since he and the Nervina left, the people of the world have been in a
+state of ferment. For it was foretold that in the last days we would
+get in communication with the other side; that some would come and some
+would go. For example, your own coming was foretold by the Jarados,
+almost to the hour and minute."
+
+"Then it was fortuitous," spoke Watson. "It was NOT the wisdom and
+science of Avec, in my case."
+
+"Quite so. However, it is proof that the Rhamdas have fulfilled their
+duty. We knew of the Spot of Life, all the while; it was to be closed
+until we, through the effort of our intellect and virtues, could lift
+ourselves up to the plane of the world beyond us--your world. It could
+not be opened by ourselves alone, however. The Rhamda Avec had first
+to get in touch with your side, before he could apply the laws he had
+discovered."
+
+Somehow, Chick admired this Rhamda. Men of his type could form but one
+kind of priesthood: exalted, and devoted to the advance of intelligence.
+If Rhamda Avec were of the same sort, then he was a man to be looked up
+to, not to hate. As for the Jarados--Watson could not make out who he
+had been; a prophet or teacher, seemingly, looming out of the past and
+reverenced from antiquity.
+
+The Blind Spot became a shade less sinister. Already Watson had the
+Temple of the Leaf, or Bell, the Rhamdas and their philosophy, the great
+amber sun, the huge birds, the musical cadence of the perfumed air, and
+the counter-announcement of Rhamda Avec to weigh against the work and
+words of Dr. Holcomb.
+
+The world of the Blind Spot!
+
+As if in reaction from the unaccustomed train of thought, Watson
+suddenly became conscious of extreme hunger. He gave an uneasy glance
+round, a glance which the Rhamda Geos smilingly interpreted. At a word
+the woman left the room and returned with a crimson garment, like a
+bath-robe. When Chick had donned it and a pair of silken slippers, Geos
+bade him follow.
+
+They stepped out into the corridor.
+
+This was formed and coloured much as the room they had quitted; and it
+led to another apartment, much larger--about fifty feet across--coloured
+a deep, cool green. Its ceiling, coved like the other, seemed made of
+some self-radiating substance from which came both light and heat. Four
+or five tables, looking like ebony work, were arranged along the side
+walls. When they were seated at one of these, the Rhamda placed his
+fingers on some round alna-white buttons ranged along the edge of the
+table.
+
+"In your world," he apologised, "our clumsy service would doubtless
+amuse you; but it is the best we have been able to devise so far."
+
+He pressed the button. Instantly, without the slightest sound or
+anything else to betray just how the thing had been accomplished,
+the table was covered with golden dishes, heaped with food, and two
+flagon-like goblets, full to the brim with a dark, greenish liquid that
+gave off an aroma almost exhilarating; not alcoholic, but something just
+above that. The Rhamda, disregarding or not noticing Watson's gasp
+of wonder, lifted his goblet in the manner of the host in health and
+welcome.
+
+"You may drink it," he offered, "without fear. It is not liquor--if I
+may use a word which I believe to be current in your world. I may add
+that it is one of the best things that we shall be able to offer you
+while you are with us."
+
+Indeed it wasn't liquor. Watson took a sip; and he made a mental note
+that if all things in the Thomahlia were on a par with this, then he
+certainly was in a world far above his own. For the one sip was enough
+to send a thrill through his veins, a thrill not unlike the ecstasy
+of supreme music--a sparkling exuberance, leaving the mind clear and
+scintillating, glorified to the quick thinking of genius.
+
+Later Watson experienced no reaction such as would have come from
+drinking alcohol or any other drug.
+
+It was the strangest meal ever eaten by Watson. The food was very
+savoury, and perfectly cooked and served. Only one dish reminded him of
+meat.
+
+"You have meats?" he asked. "This looks like flesh."
+
+Geos shook his head. "No. Do you have flesh to eat, on the other side?
+We make all our food."
+
+MAKE food. Watson thought best simply to answer the question:
+
+"As I remember it, Rhamda Geos, we had a sort of meat called beef--the
+flesh of certain animals."
+
+The Rhamda was intensely interested. "Are they large? Some interpret the
+Jarados to that effect. Tell me, are they like this?" And he pulled a
+silver whistle from his pocket and, placing it to his lips, blew two
+short, shrill notes.
+
+Immediately a peculiar patter sounded down the corridor; a ka-tuck,
+ka-tuck, ka-tuck, not unlike galloping hoof-beats. Before Watson could
+do any surmising a little bundle of shining black, rounded the entrance
+to the room and ran up to them. Geos picked it up.
+
+It was a horse. A horse, beautifully formed, perfect as an Arab, and not
+more than nine inches high!
+
+Now, Chick had been in the Blind Spot, conscious, but a short while. He
+knew that he was in the precise position that Rhamda Avec had occupied
+that morning on the ferry-boat. Chick recalled the pictures of the
+Lilliputian deer and the miniature kittens; yet he was immensely
+surprised.
+
+The little fellow began to neigh, a tiny, ridiculous sound as compared
+with the blast of a normal-sized horse, and began to paw for the edge of
+the table.
+
+"What does he want?"
+
+"A drink. They will do anything for it." Geos pressed a button, and in
+a moment he had another goblet. This he held before the little stallion,
+who thrust his head in above his nostrils and drank as greedily as a
+Percheron weighing a ton. Watson stroked his sides; the mane was like
+spun silk, he felt the legs symmetrical, perfectly shaped, not as large
+above the fetlocks as an ordinary pencil.
+
+"Are they all of this size?"
+
+"Yes; all of them. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because"--seeing no harm in telling this--"as I remember them, a horse
+on the other side would make a thousand of this one. People ride them."
+
+The Rhamda nodded.
+
+"So it is told in the books of Jarados. We had such beasts, once,
+ourselves. We would have them still, but for the brutality and stupidity
+of our ancestors. It is the one great sin of the Thomahlia. Once we had
+animals, great and small, and all the blessings of Nature; we had horses
+and, I think, what you call beef; a thousand other creatures that were
+food and help and companions to man. And for the good they had done our
+ancestors destroyed them!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It was neglect, unthinking and selfish. A time came when our
+civilisation made it possible to live without other creatures. When
+machinery came into vogue we put aside the animals as useless; those we
+had no further use for we denied the right to reproduce. The game of the
+forest was hunted down with powerful weapons of destruction; all went,
+in a century or two; everything that could be killed. And with them went
+the age of our highest art, that age of domesticated animals.
+
+"Our greatest paintings, our noblest sculpture, came from that age; all
+the priceless relics that we call classic. And in its stead we had the
+mechanical age. Man likewise became a mechanism, emotionless, with no
+taste for Nature. Meat was made synthetically, and so was milk."
+
+"You don't mean to say they did not preserve cows for the sake of their
+milk?"
+
+"No; that kind of milk became old-fashioned; men regarded it as
+unsanitary, fit only for the calves. What they wanted was something
+chemically pure; they waged war on bacteria, microbes, and Nature
+in general; a cow was merely a relic whose product was always an
+uncertainty. With no reason for the meat and no use for the milk, our
+vegetarians and our purists gradually eliminated them altogether. It
+was a strange age; utilitarian, scientific, selfish; it was then headed
+straight for destruction."
+
+And he went on to relate how men began to lose the power of emotion;
+there were no dependent beasts to leaven his nature with the salt of
+kindness; he thought only of his own aggrandisement. He became like his
+machine, a fine thing of perfectly correlated parts, but with no higher
+nature, no soul, no feeling; he was less than a brute. The animals
+disappeared one by one, passing through the channel of death, into the
+world beyond the Spot of Life, leaving behind only these tiny survivors,
+playthings, kept in existence longer than all others because of a mere
+fad.
+
+"Does your spiritism include animals as well as men?"
+
+"Naturally; everything that is endowed with life."
+
+"I see. Let me ask you: why didn't the Rhamdas interfere and put a stop
+to this wanton sacrilege against Nature?"
+
+The Rhamda smiled. "You forget," replied he, "that these events belong
+far in the past. At that time the Rhamdas were not. It was even before
+the coming of the Jarados."
+
+Watson asked no more questions for a while. He wanted to think. How
+could this man Rhamda Geos, if indeed he were a man, accept him, Watson,
+as a spirit? Solid flesh was not exactly in line with his idea of the
+unearthly. How to explain it? He had to go back to Holcomb again. The
+doctor had accepted without question Avec's naturalness, his body,
+his appetite. Reasonably enough, Geos, with some smattering of his
+superior's wisdom, should accept Watson in the same way.
+
+And then, the Jarados: at every moment his name had cropped up. Who was
+he? So far he had heard no word that might be construed as a clue.
+The great point, just now, was that the Rhamda Geos accepted him as a
+spirit, as the fact and substance promised by Avec. But--where was the
+doctor?
+
+Chick ventured this question:
+
+"My coming was foretold by the Rhamda Avec, I understand. Is this in
+accord with the words of the Jarados?"
+
+The Rhamda looked up expectantly and spoke with evident anxiety.
+
+"Can you tell me anything about the Jarados?"
+
+"Let us forgo that," side-stepped Watson. "Possibly I can tell you
+much that you would like to know. What I want to know is, just how well
+prepared you are to receive me?"
+
+"Then you come from the Jarados!"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"What do you know about him?"
+
+"This: someone should have preceded me! The fact and the substance-you
+were to have it inside three days! It has been several hundred times the
+space allotted! Is it not so?"
+
+The Rhamda's eyes were pin-pointed with eagerness.
+
+"Then it IS true! You are from the Jarados! You know the great Rhamda
+Avec--you have seen him!"
+
+"I have," declared Watson.
+
+"In the other world? You can remember?"
+
+"Yes," again committing himself. "I have seen Avec--in another world.
+But tell me, before we go on I would have an answer to my question: did
+anyone precede me?"
+
+"No."
+
+Watson was nonplussed, but he concealed the fact.
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Quite, my dear sir. The Spot of Life was watched continually from the
+moment the Rhamda left us."
+
+"You mean, he and the Nervina?"
+
+"Quite so; she followed him after an interval of a few hours."
+
+"I know. But you say that no one came out ahead of me. Who was it that
+guarded this--this Spot of Life? The Rhamdas?"
+
+"They and the Bars."
+
+"Ah! And who are the Bars?"
+
+"The military priesthood. They are the Mahovisal, and of the Temple of
+the Bell. They are led by the great Bar Senestro."
+
+"And there were times when these Bars, led by this Senestro, held guard
+over the Spot of Life?" To this Geos nodded; and Watson went on: "And
+who is this great Senestro?"
+
+"He is the chief of the Bars, and a prince of D'Hartia. He is the
+affianced of the two queens, the Aradna and the Nervina."
+
+"The TWO of them?"
+
+Whereupon Watson learned something rather peculiar. It seemed that the
+princes of D'Hartia had always married the queens. This Senestro had had
+a brother, but he died. And in such an event it was the iron custom
+that the surviving brother marry both queens. It had happened only once
+before in all history; but the precedent was unbreakable.
+
+"Then, there is nothing against it?"
+
+"Nothing; except, perhaps the prophecy of the Jarados. We now know--the
+whole world knows--that we are fast approaching the Day of Life."
+
+"Of course; the Day of Life." Watson decided upon another chance shot.
+"It has to do with the marriage of the two queens!"
+
+"You DO know!" cried the Rhamda joyously. "Tell me!"
+
+"No; it is I who am asking the questions."
+
+Watson's mind was working like lightning. Whether it was the influence
+of the strange drink, or the equally strange influence of ordinary
+inspiration, he was never more self-assured in his life. It seemed a day
+for taking long chances.
+
+"Tell me," he inquired, "what has the Day of Life to do with the two
+queens and their betrothal?"
+
+The Rhamda throttled his eagerness. "It is one of the obscure points of
+the prophecy. There are some scholars who hold that such a problem as
+this presages the coming of the end and the advent of the chosen. But
+others oppose this interpretation, for reasons purely material: for if
+the Bar Senestro should marry both queens it would make him the sole
+ruler of the Thomahlia. Only once before have we had a single ruler; for
+centuries upon centuries we have had two queens; one of the D'Hartians,
+and the other of the Kospians, enthroned here in the Mahovisal."
+
+Watson would have liked to learn far more. But the time seemed one for
+action on his part; bold action, and positive.
+
+"Rhamda Geos--I do not know what is your version of the prophecy. But
+you are positive that no one preceded me out of the Spot?"
+
+"I am. Why do you persist?"
+
+"Because"--speaking slowly and with the greatest care--"because there
+was one greater than I, who came before me!"
+
+The Rhamda rose excitedly to his feet, and then sank back into his chair
+again. In his eyes was nothing save eagerness, wonder and respect. He
+leaned forward.
+
+"Who was it? Who was he?"
+
+Watson's voice was steady as stone.
+
+"The great Jarados himself!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+A LONG WAY FROM SHORE
+
+
+Once more Watson had taken the kind of chance he preferred--a slender
+one. He took the chance that these people, however occult and advanced
+they might be, were still human enough to build their prophecy out of an
+old foundation. If he were right, then the person of the Jarados would
+be inviolable. If the professor were prisoner, held somewhere in secret,
+and it got noised about that he was the true prophet returned--it would
+not only give Holcomb immense prestige, but at the same time render the
+position of his captors untenable.
+
+Chick needed no great discernment to see that he had touched a vital
+spot. The philosophy of the Rhamdas was firmly bound up with spiritism;
+they had gone far in science, and had passed out of mere belief into
+the deeper, finer understanding that went behind the shadow for proof.
+Certainly Watson inwardly rejoiced to see Rhamda Geos incredulous,
+his keen face whitening like that of one who has just heard sacrilege
+uttered--to see Geos rise in his place, grip the table tightly, and hear
+him exclaim:
+
+"The Jarados! Did you say--the Jarados? He has come amongst us, and we
+have not known? You are perfectly sure of this?"
+
+"I am," stated Watson, and met the other's keen scrutiny without
+flinching.
+
+Would the game work? At least it promised action; and now that he had
+the old feeling of himself he was anxious to get under way. Any feeling
+of fear was gone now. He calmly nodded his head.
+
+"Yes, it is so. But sit down. I have still a bit more to tell you."
+
+The Rhamda resumed his seat. Clearly, his reverence had been greatly
+augmented in the past few seconds. From that time on there was a marked
+difference in his manner; and his speech, when he addressed Chick,
+contained the expression "my lord"--an expression that Watson found it
+easy enough to become accustomed to.
+
+"Did you doubt, Rhamda Geos, that I came from the Jarados?"
+
+"We did not doubt. We were certain."
+
+"I see. You were not expecting the Jarados."
+
+"Not yet, my lord. The coming of the Jarados shall be close to the Day
+of the Judgment. But it could not be so soon; there were to be signs and
+portents. We were to solve the problem first; we were to know the reason
+of the shadow and the why of the spirit. The wisdom of the Rhamda Avec
+told that the day approaches; he had opened the Spot of Life and gone
+through it; but he had NOT sent the fact and the substance." Watson
+smiled. There was just enough superstition, it seemed, beneath all the
+Rhamda's wisdom to make him tractable. However, Chick asked:
+
+"Tell me: as a learned man, as a Rhamda, do you believe in the prophecy
+implicitly?"
+
+"Yes, my lord. I am a spiritist; and if spiritism is truth, then the
+Jarados was genuine, and his prophecy is true. After all, my lord, it is
+not a case of legend, but of history. The Jarados came at a time of
+high civilisation, when men would see and understand him; he gave us his
+teaching in records, and imposed his laws upon the Thomahlia. Then he
+departed--through the Spot of Life."
+
+And the Rhamda Geos went on to say that the teachings of the Jarados had
+been moral as well as intellectual. Moreover, after he had formulated
+his laws, he wrote out his judgment.
+
+"What was that?"
+
+"An exhortation, my lord, that we were to give proof of our appreciation
+of intelligence. We were to use it, and to prove ourselves worthy of
+it by lifting ourselves up to the level of the Spot of Life. In other
+words, the spot would be opened when, and only when, we had learned the
+secrets of the occult, and--had opened the Spot ourselves!"
+
+Watson thought he understood partly. He asked:
+
+"And that is why you doubt me?"
+
+"You, my lord? Not so! You were found in the Temple of the Bell and
+Leaf; not on the Spot itself, to be sure, but on the floor of the
+temple. You were, both in your person and in your dress, of another
+world; you had been promised by the Rhamda Avec; and, in a sense, you
+were a part of the prophecy. We accepted you!"
+
+"But I speak your language. Account for that, Geos."
+
+"It need not be accounted for, my lord. We accept it as fact. The
+affinity of spirit would not be bound by the limitation of artificial
+speech. That you should talk the Thomahlia language is no more strange
+than that Rhamda Avec, when he passed into your world, should speak your
+tongue."
+
+"We call our language English," supplied Watson. "It is the tongue of
+the Jarados and of myself."
+
+"Tell me of the Jarados, my lord!" with renewed eagerness. "In the other
+world--what is he?"
+
+It was Chick's opportunity. By telling the simple truth about Dr.
+Holcomb he would enhance himself in the eyes of Rhamda Geas.
+
+"In the other world--we call it America--the Jaradas is a Rhamda much
+like yourself, the head and chief of many Rhamdas sitting in a great
+institution devoted to intelligence. It is called the University of
+California."
+
+"And this California; what is it, my lord?"
+
+"A name," returned Chick. "Immediately on the other side of the Spot is
+a region called California."
+
+"The promised land, my lord!"
+
+"The promised land indeed. There are some who call it paradise, even
+there." And for good measure he proceeded to tell much of his own land,
+of the woods, the rivers, the cities, animals, mountains, the sky, the
+moon, and the sun. When he came to the sun he explained that no man
+dared to look at it continuously with the bare eyes. Its great heat and
+splendour astounded Geos.
+
+Concerning himself he nonchalantly stated that he was the fiance of
+Holcomb's daughter; that is, son-in-law-to-be of the prophet Jarados;
+that he was sort of Junior Rhamda. He declared that he had come from
+the occult Rhamdas, through the other side of the Spot, in search of
+the Jarados who had gone before. As to his blankness up to now, and his
+perplexity--he was but a Junior; and the Spot had naturally benumbed his
+senses. Even now, he apologised, it was difficult to know and to recall
+everything clearly.
+
+Through it all the Rhamda Geos Listened in something like awe. He
+was hearing of wonders never before guessed in the Thomahlia. As the
+prospective son-in-law of the Jarados, Watson automatically lifted
+himself to a supreme height, so great that, could he only hold himself
+up to it, he would have a prestige second only to that of the prophet
+himself.
+
+All of a sudden he thought of a question. It gripped him with dread,
+the dread of the unknown. The question was one of TIME. "How long have I
+been here, Rhamda Geos?"
+
+"Over eleven months, by our system of reckoning. You were found on the
+floor of the temple three hundred and fifty-seven days ago; you were
+in a lifeless condition; you must have been there some hours, my lord,
+before we discovered you."
+
+"Eleven months!" It had seemed but that many minutes. "And I was
+unconscious--"
+
+"All the time, my lord. Had we caught you immediately upon your
+coming, we could have brought you around within three days, but in the
+circumstances it was impossible to restore you before we did. You have
+been under the care of the greatest specialists in all Thomahlia."
+
+Geos himself had been one of these. "The council of Rhamdas went into
+special session, my lord, immediately after your materialisation, and
+has been sitting almost continually since. And now that you are revived,
+they are waiting in person for you to show yourself.
+
+"They accept you. They do not know who you are, my lord; none of us has
+guessed even a part of the truth. The entire council awaits!"
+
+But Chick wanted more. Besides, he looked at his clothing.
+
+"I would have my own garments, Geos; also, whatever else was found on my
+person."
+
+For Watson was thinking of a small but powerful pistol, an automatic,
+that he had carried on the night when he fell through the Blind Spot.
+This question of materiality was still a puzzle; if he himself had
+survived there was a chance that the firearm had done the same. It might
+and it might not preclude the occult. Anyway, he treasured the thought
+of that automatic; with it in his possession he would not be bare-handed
+in case of emergency.
+
+They returned to the room in which Chick had awakened. The Rhamda left
+him. A few moments later he came back with a squad of men. Chick noted
+their discipline, movement, and uniforms, and classed them as soldiers.
+Two men were stationed outside the door--one, a stout, dark individual
+in a blue uniform; and the other a lithe, athletic chap, blond and
+blue-eyed, wearing a bright crimson dress. Chick instinctively preferred
+both man and garb in crimson; there was a touch of honour, of lightness
+and strength that just suited him. The other was dark, heavy and
+sinister.
+
+Both wore sandals, and upon their heads curious shakos, made of the
+finest down, not fur. Both displayed a heavy silken braid looped from
+one shoulder. Each carried a spear-like weapon, of some shining black
+material, straight-tapered to a needle-point; but no other arms.
+
+Watson pointed to the two uniforms.
+
+"What is the significance, Geos?"
+
+"One is from the queen, my lord; the other from Bar Senestro. The blue
+is the cloth of the Bars; the red, that of the queens. The Bar and the
+queen send this bodyguard with their respective compliments."
+
+Chick took the bundle that Geos had brought, and proceeded to don his
+own clothes, finding deep satisfaction in the fact that they had arrived
+as intact as he. He felt carefully in his hip pocket; the automatic
+was still there, likewise the extra magazine of cartridges that he had
+carried about with him on that night.
+
+In his other pockets he found two packets of cigarettes, a pouch of
+tobacco, some papers, a few coins, a little money and two photographs,
+one of Bertha and the other of her father. Not a thing had been
+disturbed.
+
+He announced himself ready.
+
+The Rhamda conducted him down the corridor, which he found to be lined
+with guards; red on one side, blue on the other. These men fell in
+behind in two parallel files, one of the one colour and one of the
+other.
+
+It was a building of great size. The corridors were long and high, all
+with the wide-coved ceiling, and of colours that melted from one shade
+to another as they turned, not corners, but curves. Apparently each
+colour had its own suggestive reason. Such rooms as Chick could look
+into were uniformly large, beautiful, and distinctly lighted.
+
+The guard moved in silent rhythm; the chief sound was that made by
+Watson's leather-heeled shoes, drowning out, for once, the everlasting
+tinkling undertone of those unseen fairy-bells; that running cadence,
+never ceasing, silver, liquid, like the soul of sound.
+
+Though Watson walked with head erect, he had eyes for every little thing
+he passed. He noted the material of the structure and tried to name it;
+neither plaster nor stone, the walls were highly polished and, somehow
+or other, capable of emitting perfume--light and wholesome, not heavy
+and oppressive. And in dark passages the walls glowed.
+
+The corridor widened, and with a graceful curve opened upon a wide
+stairway that descended, or rather sank--to use Watson's own words
+for the feeling--into the depths of the building. To the right of one
+landing was a large window reaching to the floor; its panes were clear
+and not frosted as had been the others.
+
+Chick got his first glimpse here of what lay outside--an iridescent
+landscape, at first view astonishingly like an ocean of opals; for it
+was of many hues, red and purple and milky white, splashed violantin
+blue and fluorescence--a maze and shimmer of dancing, joyful colours,
+whirring in an uncertainty of polychromatic harmony. Such was his first
+fleeting impression.
+
+At the next landing he looked closer. It was not unlike a monster
+bowl of bubbles; the same illusion of movement, the same delicacy
+and witchery of colour, only here the sensation was not that of
+decomposition but of life; of flowers, delicate as the rainbow, tenuous,
+sinuous, breathing--weaving in a serpentine maze of daedalian hues; long
+tendrils of orchidian beauty, lifting, weaving, drooping--a vast sea of
+equatorial bloom; but--no trees.
+
+"This is our landscape," spoke the Rhamda. "According to the Jarados, it
+is not like that of the next world--your world, my lord. After you meet
+the Rhamdas, I shall take you into the Mahovisal for a closer view of it
+all."
+
+They reached the bottom of the stairway. Chick noted the architecture in
+the entrance-way at this point; the seeming solidness of structure, as
+if the whole had been chiselled, not built. The vestibule was really
+a hall, domed and high, large enough to shelter a hundred. Like the
+corridor outside Chick's room, it was lined with a row each of red and
+blue uniformed guards.
+
+Invariably the one belonged to the blond, lithe, quick-feeling type,
+the others heavy, sturdy, formidable. The extremities of the two lines
+converged on an oval-topped doorway, very large, having above it a
+design conventionalised from the three-leafed clover. One leaf was
+scarlet, one blue, the other green.
+
+The door opened. The guards halted. Geos stepped aside with a bow, and
+Watson strode forward into the presence of the Council of the Rhamdas.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+THE BAR SENESTRO
+
+
+It was a critical moment for Chick. Out of the impulse of his inner
+nature he had chosen the odds that he must now uphold against the
+combined wisdom of these intellectuals. He was alone, with no one
+to guide him save Geos, who undoubtedly was his friend, but who as
+undoubtedly would desert him upon the slightest inkling of imposture.
+
+He found himself in a great, round room, or rather an oval one, domed at
+the top but tinted in a far more beautiful colouring--lazuli blue. The
+walls were cut by long, narrow windows reaching far up into the sweep
+where the side melted into the ceiling. The material of the windows was
+of the same translucent substance already noted, but slightly tinged
+with green, so that they shed a soft light, cooled and quiet, over the
+whole assembly.
+
+On the wall opposite the doorway was a large replica of the clover-leaf
+design outside, even more gem-like in brilliance; its three colours
+woven into a trinity almost of flame. Whether the light was artificial
+or intrinsic, Chick could not say. The floor of the place accommodated
+some three hundred tables, of the library type, and the same number
+of men bearing the distinguished stamp of the Rhamda. All were
+smooth-shaven, comparatively tall, and possessing the same aesthetic
+manner which impressed one with the notion of inherited, inherent
+culture. The entire hall had the atmosphere of learning, justice and the
+supreme tribunal.
+
+For a moment Watson felt weak and uncertain. He could hold up against
+Geos and Avec, but in the face of such an array he wasn't so sure. There
+was but one thing to encourage him; the faces into which he looked. All
+were full of wonder and reverence.
+
+Then he looked about him more carefully. He had come out upon a wide
+platform, or rostrum. He now noticed that he was flanked on either side
+by thrones--two of them; they seemed made of golden amber. The one on
+the right was occupied by a man, the other by a woman. In the pause that
+was vouchsafed him Chick took note of these two, and wondered.
+
+In the first place, the man was not a Rhamda. The jewelled semi-armour
+that he wore was more significant than the dignified garb of the
+Intellectuals; at the same time, his accoutrements cheapened him, by
+contrast. He was executive, princely, with the bearing that comes of
+worldly ambitions and attainments; a man strangely handsome, vital,
+athletic; curling hair, dark, quick eyes and even features; except
+only for the mouth he might have been taken as a model of the Greek
+Alexander.
+
+The clothes he wore were classic, as was everything else about him, even
+to his sandals, his bare arms and his jewelled breastplate.
+
+Watson had studied history. He had a quick impression of a composite--of
+genius, cruelty and sensuality. Here was one with three strong natures,
+a sort of Nero, Caligula and Alexander combined: the sensuality of the
+first, the cruelty of the second, and the instinctive fire and greatness
+of the immortal Macedonian. The man was smiling; not an amused smile,
+but one of interest, humorous tolerance.
+
+When their eyes met, Chick caught the magnetic current of personality,
+the same sense of illusiveness that he and Harry Wendel had noted in
+the Nervina; only here it was negative, resisting instead of aiding.
+A number of the blue guard surrounded the throne, their faces dark,
+strong, and of unconquerable resolution, though slow to think.
+
+On the other throne was a girl. Chick had heard enough from the Geos to
+guess her identity: one of the queens, the Aradna; frail, delicate, a
+blue-eyed maiden, with a waving mass of straw-gold hair hanging loosely
+about her shoulders. She too was classically attired, although there
+were touches of modernity here and there in the arrangement of ribbons;
+the garment matched her guards' crimson, and was draped about her
+shoulders so as to leave one bare, together with that arm. Across her
+forehead was a band of dark-blue gems, and she wore no other jewels.
+
+She was not more than seventeen or eighteen, with eyes like bluebells,
+lips as red as poppies, features that danced with delight and laughter
+and all the innocence that one would associate with elfin royalty.
+Instinctively Chick compared her with the Nervina.
+
+The senior queen had the subtle magnetism, the uncountable fascination,
+the poise and decision that held and dictated all things to her fancy.
+
+Not so the Aradna. Hers was the strength of simplicity, the frank, open
+delight of the maiden, and at the same time all the charm and suggestion
+of coming womanhood. When she caught Watson's eye she smiled; a smile
+free and unrestrained, out of an open, happy heart. She made a remark
+to one of her guards, who nodded a reply after the manner of a friend,
+rather than a courtier.
+
+Watson turned to the Geos, who stood somewhat to one side, and a little
+to the rear.
+
+"The Aradna?"
+
+"Yes. The queen of D'Hartia. The man on the other side is the Bar
+Senestro."
+
+Whatever feeling Chick entertained for the one was offset by what he
+felt for the other. He was between two forces; his instinct warned him
+of the Bar, sceptical, powerful, ruthless, a man to be reckoned with;
+but his better nature went out to the young queen.
+
+At a motion from Geos, the whole assembly of Rhamdas stood up. The
+action was both dignified and reverent. Though Chick was, in their eyes,
+a miracle, there was no unseemly staring nor jarring of curiosity; all
+was quietness, ease, poise; the only sound was that of the constant
+subtle music of those invisible bells.
+
+Rhamda Geos began speaking. At the same time he placed a friendly hand
+on Watson's shoulder, a signal for every other Rhamda to resume his
+seat.
+
+"The Fact and the Substance, my brothers."
+
+Geos paused as he made use of the ultra-significant phrase. And then,
+in a few rapid sentences, he ran over the synopsis of that affair,
+beginning with some philosophy and other details that Watson could only
+half understand, making frequent allusions to the Jarados and other
+writers of prophecy; then he made some mention of his own particular
+brand of spiritism and its stand on materialisation. This he followed
+with an account of the finding of Watson in the temple, his long sleep
+and ultimate reviving. At greater length he repeated the gist of their
+conversation.
+
+Not until then was there a stir among the Rhamdas. Chick glanced over at
+the Aradna. She was listening eagerly, her chin cupped in her hand,
+her blue eyes full of interest and wonder, and natural, unfeigned,
+child-like delight.
+
+Then the Bar caught Chick's glance; the newcomer felt the cold chill of
+calculation, the cynical weight of the sceptic, and a queer foreboding
+of the future; no light glance, but one like fire and ice and iron.
+He wondered at the man's beauty and genius, and at his emotional
+preponderance manifest even here before the Rhamdas.
+
+The Geos went on. His words, now, were simple and direct. Watson felt
+himself almost deified by that reverent manner. The Rhamdas listened
+with visibly growing interest; the Aradna leaned slightly forward; even
+the Bar dropped his interest in Watson to pay closer attention to the
+speaker. For Geos had come to the Jarados; he was an orator as well as
+a mystic, and he was advancing Chick's words with all the skill of a
+master of language, ascending effect--climax--the Jarados had come among
+them, and--They had missed him!
+
+For a moment there was silence, then a rustle of general comment. Chick
+watched the Rhamdas, leaning over to whisper to each other. Could he
+stand up against them?
+
+But none of them spoke. After the first murmur of comment they lapsed
+into silence again. It was the Bar Senestro who broke the tension.
+
+"May I ask, Rhamda Geos, why you make such an assertion? What proof have
+you, to begin with, that this man," indicating Watson with a nod, "is
+not merely one of ourselves: a D'Hartian or a Kospian?"
+
+The Geos replied instantly: "You know the manner of his discovery, Bar
+Senestro. Have you not eyes?" Geos seemed to think he had said the last
+word.
+
+"Surely," rejoined the Bar good-humouredly. "I have very good eyes,
+Rhamda Geos. Likewise I have a mind to reason with; but my imagination,
+I fear, is defective. What I behold is just such a creature as myself;
+not otherwise. How hold you that this one is proof out of the occult?"
+
+"You are sceptical," returned the Rhamda, evenly. "Even as you behold
+him, you are full of doubt. But do you not recall the words of the great
+Avec? Do you not know the Prophecy of the Jarados?"
+
+"Truly, Geos; I remember them both. Especially the writing on the wall
+of the temple. Does not the prophet himself say: 'And behold, in the
+last days there shall come among ye--the false ones. Them ye shall
+slay'?"
+
+"All very true, Bar Senestro. But you well know--we all know--that the
+true prophecy was to be fulfilled when the Spot was opened. Did not the
+fulfilment begin when the Avec and the Nervina passed through to the
+other side?"
+
+"The fulfilment, Geos? Perhaps it was the sign of the coming of
+impostors! The end may not be until ALL the conditions are complied
+with!"
+
+But at this moment Aradna saw fit to speak.
+
+"Senestro, would you condemn this one without allowing him a word in his
+own defence? Is it fair? Besides, he does not look like an impostor to
+me. I like his face. Perhaps he is one of the chosen!"
+
+At the last word the Bar frowned. His glance shifted suddenly to Watson,
+a swift look of ice-cold calculation.
+
+"Very, very true, O Aradna. I, too, would have him speak in his own
+behalf. Let him amuse us with his tongue. What would your majesty care
+to hear, O Aradna, from this phantom?"
+
+The words were of biting satire. Chick wheeled upon the Bar. Their eyes
+clashed; an encounter not altogether to Watson's credit. He was a bit
+unsteady, a trifle uncertain of his power. He had calculated on the
+superstition of the Rhamdas to hold him up until he caught his footing,
+and this unexpected scepticism was disconcerting. However, he was no
+coward; the feeling passed away almost at once. He strode straight up to
+the throne of the Bar; and once more he spoke from sheer impulse:
+
+"The Aradna has spoken true, O Senestro, or sinister, or whatever you
+may be called. I demand fair hearing! It is my due; for I have come from
+another world. I follow--the Jarados!"
+
+If Watson had supposed that he had taken the Bar's measure, he was
+mistaken. The prince's eyes suddenly glinted with a fierce pleasure.
+Like a flash his antagonism shifted to something astonishingly like
+admiration.
+
+"Well spoken! Incidentally, you are well made and sound looking,
+stranger."
+
+"Passably," replied Watson. "I do not care to discuss my appearance,
+however. I am certainly no more ill-favoured than some others."
+
+"And impertinent," continued the other, quite without malice. "Do you
+know anything about the Bar, to whom you speak so saucily?"
+
+"I know that you have intimated that I may be an impostor. You have done
+this, after hearing what the learned Rhamda Geos has said. You know the
+facts; you know that I have come from the Jarados. I--"
+
+But it wasn't Watson's words that held the Bar's attention. Chick's
+straight, well-knit form, his quick-trained actions, overbalanced
+the question of the prophet in the mind of the man on the throne. His
+delight was self-evident.
+
+"Truly you are soundly built, stranger; you are made of iron and
+whipcord, finely formed, quick and alert." He threw a word to one of his
+heavy-faced attendants, then suddenly stood up and descended from his
+throne. He came up and stood beside Watson.
+
+Chick straightened. The prince was an inch the taller; his bare arms
+long-muscled, lithe, powerful; under the pink skin Chick could see the
+delicate, cat-like play of strength and vitality. He sensed the strength
+of the man, his quick, eager, instinctive glance, his panther-like step
+and certainty of graceful movement.
+
+"Stranger," spoke the Bar, "indeed you ARE an athlete! What is your
+nationality--Kospian?"
+
+"Neither Kospian nor D'Hartian; I am an American. True, there are some
+who have said that I am built like a man; I pride myself that I can
+conduct myself like one."
+
+"And speak impertinently." Still in the best of humour, the prince
+coolly reached out and felt Watson's biceps. His eyes became still
+brighter. If not an admirer of decorum, he could appreciate firm flesh.
+"Sirra! You ARE strong! Answer me--do you know anything about games of
+violence?"
+
+"Several. Anything you choose."
+
+But the prince shook his head. "Not so. I claim no unfair advantage; you
+are well met, and opportune. Let it be a contest of your own choosing.
+The greater honour to myself, the victor!"
+
+But the little queen saw fit to interfere.
+
+"Senestro, is this the code of the Bar? Is not your proposal unseemly to
+so great a guest? Restrain your eagerness for strength and for muscle!
+You have preferred charges against this man; now you would hurl your
+body as well. Remember, I am the queen; I can command it of you."
+
+The Senestro bowed.
+
+"Your wishes are my law, O Aradna." Then, turning to Watson: "I am
+over-eager, stranger. You are the best-built man I have seen for many
+a circle. But I shall best you." He paced to his throne and resumed his
+seat. "Let him tell us his tale. I repeat, Geos, that for all his beauty
+this one is an impostor. When he has spoken I shall confute him. I ask
+only that in the end he be turned over to me."
+
+It was plain that the Thomahlia was blest with odd rulers. If the Bar
+Senestro was a priest, he was clearly still more of a soldier. The fiery
+challenge of the man struck an answering chord in Watson; he knew the
+time must come when he should weigh himself up against this Alexander,
+and it was anything but displeasing to him.
+
+"What must I say and do?" he asked the Rhamda Geos. "What do they want
+me to tell them?"
+
+"Just what you have told me: tell them of the Nervina, and of the Rhamda
+Avec. The prince is a man of the world, but from the Rhamdas you will
+have justice."
+
+Whereat Chick addressed the Intellectuals. They seemed accustomed to the
+outbursts of the handsome Bar, and were now waiting complacently. In
+a few words Watson described the Nervina and Avec; their appearance,
+manners--everything. Fortunately he did not have to dissemble. When he
+had finished there was a faint murmur of approval.
+
+"It is proven," declared the girl queen. "It is truly my cousin, the
+Nervina. I knew not the Rhamda, but from your faces it must have been
+he, Senestro, what say you to this?"
+
+But the Bar was totally unconvinced.
+
+"All this is childish. Did I not say he is of our world--D'Hartian or
+Kospian, or some other? Does not all Thomahlia know of the Nervina? Few
+have seen the Rhamda Avec, but what of it? Some have. What this stranger
+says proves nothing at all. I say, give him a test."
+
+"The test?" from Geos, in a hushed tone.
+
+"Just that. There is none who knows the likeness of the Jarados; none
+but the absent Avec. None among us has ever seen his image. It is a
+secret to all save the High Rhamda. Yet, in cases like this, well may
+the Leaf be opened."
+
+Watson, wondering what was meant, listened closely to the prince as he
+continued: "It is written that there are times when all may see. Surely
+this is such a time.
+
+"Now let this stranger describe the Jarados. He says that he had seen
+him; that he is the Prophet's prospective son-in-law. Good! Let him
+describe the Jarados to us!
+
+"Then open the Leaf! If he speaks true, we shall know him to be from the
+Jarados. If he fail, then I shall claim him for purposes of my own."
+
+Whatever the motives of the Senestro, he surely had the genius of quick
+decision. Watson knew that the moment had come to test his luck to the
+uttermost. There was but one thing to do; he did it. He said to the
+Rhamda Geos, in a tone of the utmost indifference:
+
+"I am willing."
+
+Geos was distinctively relieved, "It is good, my lord. Tell us in simple
+words. Describe the Jarados just as you have seen him, just as you would
+have us see him. Afterwards we shall open the Leaf." And in a lower
+tone: "If you speak accurately I shall be vindicated, my lord. I doubt
+not that you are a better man than the prince; but place your reliance
+in the Truth; it will be one more proof of the occult, and of the Day
+approaching."
+
+Which is all that Watson told. But first he breathed a prayer to One who
+is above all things occult or physical. He did not understand where he
+was nor how he had got there; he only knew that his fate was hanging on
+a toss of chance.
+
+He faced the Rhamdas without flinching; and half closing his eyes and
+speaking very clearly, he searched his memory for what he recalled of
+the old professor. He tried to describe him just as he had appeared that
+day in the ethics class, when he made the great announcement; the trim,
+stubby figure of Professor Holcomb, the pink, healthy skin, the wise,
+grey, kindly eyes, and the close-cropped, pure white beard: all, just as
+Chick had known him. One chance in millions; he took it.
+
+"That is the Jarados as I have seen him; a short, elderly, wise, BEARDED
+man."
+
+There was not a breath or a murmur in comment. All hung upon his words;
+there was not a sound in the room as he ceased speaking, only the throb
+of his own heart and the subtle pounding of caution in his veins. He had
+spoken. If only there might be a resemblance!
+
+The Geos stepped forward a pace. "It is well said. If the truth has been
+spoken, there shall be room for no dispute. It shall be known throughout
+all Thomahlia that the Chosen of the Jarados has spoken. Let the Leaf be
+opened!"
+
+Chick never knew just what happened, much less how it was accomplished.
+He knew only that a black, opaque wave ran up the long windows, shutting
+off the light, so that instantly the darkness of night enveloped
+everything, blotting out all that maze of colour; it was the blackness
+of the void. Then came a tiny light, a mere dot of flame, over on the
+opposite wall; a pin-point of light it was, seemingly coming out of
+a vast distance like an approaching star, growing gradually larger,
+spreading out into a screen of radiance that presently was flashing
+with intrinsic life. The corruscation grew brighter; little tufts of
+brilliance shot out with all the stabbing suddenness of shooting stars.
+To Chick it was exactly as though some god were pushing his way through
+and out of fire. In the end the flame burst asunder, diminished into a
+receding circle and sputtered out.
+
+And in the place of the strange light there appeared the illuminated
+figure of a man. Leaning forward, Chick rubbed his eyes and looked
+again.
+
+It was the bust of Professor Holcomb.
+
+
+
+
+XXXV
+
+THE PERFECT IMPOSTOR
+
+
+Chick gasped. Of all that assemblage--Rhamdas, guards, the occupants
+of the two thrones--he himself was the most astounded. Was the great
+professor in actual fact the true Jarados? If not, how explain this
+miracle? But if he were, how to explain the duality, the identity?
+Surely, it could not be sheer chance!
+
+Fortunately for Chick, it was dark. All eyes were fixed on the trim
+figure which occupied the space of the clover-leaf on the rear wall.
+Except for Chick's strangled gasp, there was only the hushed silence of
+reverence, deep and impressive.
+
+Then another dot appeared. From its position, Watson took it to come
+from another leaf of the clover; another light approaching out of the
+void and cutting through the blackness exactly as the first had come.
+It grew and spread until it had filled the whole leaf; then, again
+the bursting of the flare, the diminishing of the light, and its
+disappearance in a thin rim at the edge. And this time there was
+revealed--
+
+A handsome brown-haired DOG.
+
+Watson of course, could not understand. The silence held; he could feel
+the Rhamda Geos at his side, and hear him murmur something which, in
+itself, was quite unintelligible:
+
+"The four-footed one! The call to humility, sacrifice, and
+unselfishness! The four-footed one!"
+
+That was all. It was a shaggy shepherd dog, with a pointed nose and one
+ear cocked up and the other down, very wisely inquisitive. Chick had
+seen similar dogs many times, but he could not account for this one;
+certainly not in such a place. What had it to do with the Jarados?
+
+Still the darkness. It gave him a chance to think. He wondered, rapidly,
+how he could link up such a creature with his description of the
+Jarados. What could be the purpose of a canine in occult philosophy? Or,
+was the whole thing, after all, mere blundering chance?
+
+This is what bothered Chick. He did not know how to adjust himself;
+life, place, sequence, were all out of order. Until he could gather
+exact data, he must trust to intuition as before.
+
+The two pictures vanished simultaneously. Down came the black waves from
+the windows, gradually, and in a moment the room was once more flooded
+with that mellow radiance. The Rhamda Geos stepped forward as a murmur
+of awed approval arose from the assembly. There was no applause. One
+does not applaud the miraculous. The Geos took his hand.
+
+"It is proven!" he declared. Then, to the Rhamdas: "Is there any
+question, my brothers?"
+
+But no word came from the floor. Seemingly superstition had triumphed
+over all else. The men of learning turned none but reverent faces toward
+Watson.
+
+He forebore to glance at the Bar Senestro. Despite the triumph he
+was apprehensive of the princes's keen genius. An agnostic is seldom
+converted by what could be explained away as mere coincidence. Moreover,
+as it ultimately appeared, the Bar now had more than one reason for
+antagonising the man who claimed to be the professor's prospective
+son-in-law.
+
+"Is there any question?" repeated Rhamda Geos.
+
+But to the surprise of Chick, it came from the queen. She was standing
+before her throne now. Around her waist a girdle of satin revealed the
+tender frailty of her figure. She gave Watson a close scrutiny, and then
+addressed the Geos:
+
+"I want to put one question, Rhamda. The stranger seems to be a goodly
+young man. He has come from the Jarados. Tell me, is he truly of the
+chosen?"
+
+But a clear, derisive laugh from the opposite throne interrupted the
+answer. The Bar stood up, his black eyes dancing with mocking laughter.
+
+"The chosen, O Aradna? The chosen? Do not allow yourself to be tricked
+by a little thing! I myself have been chosen by the inherited law of the
+Thomahlia!" Then to Chick: "I see, Sir Phantom, that our futures are to
+be intertwined with interest!"
+
+"I don't know what you mean."
+
+"No? Very good; if you are really come out of superstition, then I shall
+teach you the value of materiality. You are well made and handsome,
+likewise courageous. May the time soon come when you can put your mettle
+to the test in a fair conflict!"
+
+"It is your own saying, O Senestro!" warned Geos. "You must abide by my
+Lord's reply."
+
+"True; and I shall abide. I know nothing of black magic, or any other.
+But I care not. I know only that I cannot accept this stranger as a
+spirit. I have felt his muscles, and I know his strength; they are a
+man's, and a Thomahlian's."
+
+"Then you do not abide?"
+
+"Yes, I do. That is, I do not claim him. He has won his freedom. But
+as for endorsing him--no, not until he has given further proof. Let him
+come to the Spot of Life. Let him take the ordeal. Let him qualify on
+the Day of the Prophet."
+
+"My lord, do you accept?"
+
+Watson had no idea what the "ordeal" might be, nor what might be the
+significance of the day. But he could not very well refuse. He spoke as
+lightly as he could.
+
+"Of course. I accept anything." Then, addressing the prince: "One word,
+O Senestro."
+
+"Speak up, Sir Phantom!"
+
+"Bar Senestro--what have you done with the Jarados?"
+
+An instant's stunned silence greeted this stab. It was broken by the
+prince.
+
+"The Jarados!" His voice was unruffled. "What know I of the Jarados?"
+
+"Take care! You have seen him--you know his power!"
+
+"You have a courageous sort of impertinence!"
+
+"I have determination and knowledge! Bar Senestro, I have come for the
+Jarados!" Chick paused for effect. "Now what think you? Am I of the
+chosen?"
+
+He had meant it as a deliberate taunt, and so it was taken. The Bar shot
+to his feet. Not that he was angered; his straight, handsome form was
+kingly, and for all his impulsiveness there was a certain real majesty
+about his every pose.
+
+"You are of the chosen. It is well; you have given spice to the taunt!
+I would not have it otherwise. Forget not your courage on the Day of the
+Prophet!"
+
+With that he stepped gracefully, superbly from the dais beneath
+his throne. He bowed to the Aradna, to Geos, to Chick and to the
+assembly--and was gone. The blue guard followed in silence.
+
+The rest of the ordeal was soon done. Nothing more was said about the
+Jarados, nor of what the Bar Senestro had brought up. There were a few
+questions about the world he had quit, questions which put no strain
+upon his imagination to answer. He was out of the deep water for the
+present.
+
+When the assembly dissolved Chick was conducted back to the apartments
+upstairs. Not to his old room, however, but to an adjoining suite, a
+magnificent place--that would have done honour to a prince. But Chick
+scarcely noted the beauty of the place. His attention flew at once to
+something for which he longed--an immense globe.
+
+Chick spun it around eagerly upon its axis. The first thing that he
+looked for was San Francisco--or, rather, North America. If he was on
+the earth he wanted to know it! Surely the oceans and continents would
+not change.
+
+But he was doomed to disappointment. There was not a familiar detail.
+Outside of a network of curved lines indicating latitude and longitude,
+and the accustomed tilt of the polar axis, the globe was totally
+strange! So strange that Chick could not decide which was water and
+which land.
+
+After a bit of puzzling Chick ran across a yellow patch marked with
+some strange characters which, upon examination, were translated in some
+unknown manner within his subconscious mind, to "D'Hartia." Another was
+lettered "Kospia."
+
+Assuming that these were land--and there were a few other, smaller ones,
+of the same shade--then the land area covered approximately three-fifths
+of the globe. Inferentially the green remainder, or two-fifths, was the
+water or ocean covered area. Such a proportion was nearly the precise
+reverse of that obtaining on the earth. Chick puzzled over other strange
+names--H'Alara, Mal Somnal, Bloudou San, and the like. Not one name or
+outline that he could place!
+
+How could he make his discovery fit with the words of Dr. Holcomb, and
+with what philosophy he knew? Somehow there was too much life, too much
+reality, to fit in with any spiritistic hypothesis. He was surrounded by
+real matter, atomic, molecular, cellular. He was certain that if he were
+put to it he could prove right here every law from those put forth by
+Newton to the present.
+
+It was still the material universe; that was certain. Therefor it was
+equally certain that the doctor had made a most prodigious discovery.
+But--what was it? What was the law that had fallen out of the Blind
+Spot?
+
+He gave it up, and stepped to one of the suite's numerous windows.
+They were all provided with clear glass. Now was his opportunity for an
+uninterrupted, leisurely survey of the world about him.
+
+As before, he noted the maze of splendid, dazzling opalescence, all the
+colours of the spectrum blending, weaving, vibrant, like a vast plain
+of smooth, Gargantuan jewels. Then he made out innumerable round domes,
+spread out in rows and in curves, without seeming order or system;
+BUILDINGS, every roof a perfect gleaming dome, its surface fairly alive
+with the reflected light of that amazing sun. Of such was the landscape
+made.
+
+As before, he could hear the incessant undertone of vague music, of
+rhythmical, shimmering and whispering sound. And the whole air was laden
+with the hint of sweet scents; tinged with the perfume of attar and
+myrrh--of a most delicate ambrosia.
+
+He opened the window.
+
+For a moment he stood still, the air bathing his face, the unknown
+fragrance filling his nostrils. The whole world seemed thrumming with
+that hitherto faint quiver of sound. Now it was resonant and strong,
+though still only an undertone. He looked below him; as he did so,
+something dropped from the side of the window opening--a long, delicate
+tendril, sinuous and alive. It touched his face, and then--It drooped,
+drooped like a wounded thing. He reached out his hand and plucked it,
+wondering. And he found, at its tip, a floating crimson blossom as
+delicate as the frailest cobweb, so inconceivably delicate that it
+wilted and crumbled at the slightest touch.
+
+Chick thrust his head out of the window. The whole building, from ground
+to dome, was covered--waving, moving, tenuous, a maze of colour--with
+orchids!
+
+He had never dreamed of anything so beautiful, or so splendid.
+Everywhere these orchids; to give them the name nearest to the unknown
+one. As far as he could see, living beauty!
+
+And then he noticed something stranger still.
+
+From the petals and the foliage about him, little clouds of colour
+wafted up, like mists of perfume, forever rising and intermittently
+settling. It was mysteriously harmonious, continuous--like life itself.
+Chick looked closer, and listened. And then he knew.
+
+These mists were clouds of tiny, multi-coloured insects.
+
+He looked down farther, into the streets. They were teeming with life,
+with motion. He was in a city whose size made it a true metropolis.
+All the buildings were large, and, although of unfamiliar architecture,
+undeniably of a refined, advanced art. Without exception, their roofs
+were domed. Hence the effect of a sea of bubbles.
+
+Directly below, straight down from his window, was a very broad street.
+From it at varying angles ran a number of intersecting avenues. The
+height of his window was great--he looked very closely, and made out
+two lines of colour lining and outlining the street surrounding the
+apartments.
+
+On the one side the line was blue, on the other crimson; they were
+guards. And where the various avenues intersected cables must have
+been stretched; for these streets were packed and jammed with a surging
+multitude, which the guards seemed engaged in holding back. As far up
+the avenues as Chick could see, the seething mass of fellow creatures
+extended, a gently pulsing vari-coloured potential commotion.
+
+As he looked one of the packed streets broke into confusion. He could
+see the guards wheeling and running into formation; from behind, other
+platoons rushed up reinforcements. The great crowd was rolling forward,
+breaking on the edge of the spear-armed guards like the surf of a
+rolling sea.
+
+Chick had a sudden thought. Were they not looking up at his window? He
+could glimpse arms uplifted and hands pointed. Even the guards, those
+held in reserve, looked up. Then--such was the distance--the rumble of
+the mob reached his ears; at the same time, spreading like a grass fire,
+the commotion broke out in another street, to another and another, until
+the air was filled with the new undertone of countless human tongues.
+
+Chick was fascinated. The thing was over-strange. While he looked and
+listened the whole scene turned to conflict; the voice of the throng
+became ominous. The guards still held the cables, still beat back the
+populace. Could they hold out, wondered Chick idly; and what was it all
+about?
+
+Something touched his shoulder. He wheeled. One of the tall,
+red-uniformed guards was standing beside him. Watson instinctively drew
+back, and as he did so the other stepped forward, touched the snap, and
+closed the window.
+
+"What's the idea? I was just getting interested!"
+
+The soldier nodded pleasantly, respectfully--reverently.
+
+"Orders from below, my lord. Were you to remain at that window it would
+take all the guards in the Mahovisal to keep back the Thomahlians."
+
+"Why?" Chick was astonished.
+
+"There are a million pilgrims in the city, my lord, who have waited
+months for just one glimpse of you."
+
+Watson considered. This was a new and a dazing aspect of the affair.
+Evidently the expression on his face told the soldier that some
+explanation would not be amiss.
+
+"The pilgrims are almost innumerable, my lord. They are all of the one
+great faith. They are, my lord, the true believers, the believers in the
+Day."
+
+The Day! Instantly Watson recalled Senestro's use of the expression. He
+sensed a valuable clue. He caught and held the soldier's eye.
+
+"Tell me," commanded Chick. "What is this Day of which you speak!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+AN ALLY, AND SOLID GROUND
+
+
+The soldier replied unhesitatingly: "It is the Day of Life, my lord.
+Others call it the 'first of the Sixteen Days.' Still others, simply the
+Day of the Prophet, or Jarados."
+
+"When will it be?"
+
+"Soon. It is but two days hence. And with the going down of the sun on
+that day the Fulfilment is to begin, and the Life is to come. Hence the
+crowd below, my lord; yet they are nothing compared with the crowds that
+today are pressing their way from all D'Hartia and Kospia towards the
+Mahovisal."
+
+"All because of the Day?"
+
+"And to see YOU, my lord."
+
+"All believers in the Jarados?"
+
+"All truly; but they do not all believe in your lordship. There are
+many sects, including the Bars, that consider you an imposter; but the
+rest--perhaps the most--believe you the Herald of the Day. All want to
+see you, for whatever motive."
+
+"These Bars; who are they?"
+
+"The military priesthood, my lord. As priests they teach a literal
+interpretation of the prophecy; as soldiers they maintain their own
+aggrandisement. To be more specific, my lord, it is they who accuse you
+of being one of the false ones."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because it is written in the prophecy, my lord, that we may expect
+impostors, and that we are to slay them."
+
+"Then this coming contest with the Senestro--" beginning to sense the
+drift of things.
+
+"Yes, my lord; it will be a physical contest, in which the best man
+destroys the other!"
+
+The guard was a tall, finely made and truly handsome chap of perhaps
+thirty-five. Watson liked the clear blue of his eyes and the openness
+of his manner. At the same time he felt that he was being weighed and
+balanced.
+
+"My lord is not afraid?"
+
+"Not at all! I was just thinking--when does this kill take place?"
+
+"Two days hence, my lord; on the first of the Sixteen Sacred Days."
+
+And thus Chick found a staunch friend. The soldier's name, he learned,
+was "the Jan Lucar." He was supreme in command of the royal guards; and
+Chick soon came to feel that the man would as cheerfully lay down his
+life for him, Watson, as for the queen herself. All told, Chick was able
+to store away in his memory a few very important facts:
+
+First, that the Aradna did not like the Senestro.
+
+Second, that the Jan Lucar hated the great Bar because of the prince's
+ambition to wed the queen and her cousin, the Nervina; also because of
+his selfish, autocratic ways.
+
+Next, that were the Nervina on hand she would thwart the Senestro; for
+she was a very learned woman, as advanced as the Rhamda Avec himself.
+But that she was a queen first and a scholar afterwards; her motive in
+going through the Blind Spot was to take care of the political welfare
+of her people, her purposes were as high as Rhamda Avec's, but partook
+of statesmanship rather than spirituality.
+
+Finally, that the Rhamdas were perfectly willing for the coming contest
+to take place, on the evening of the Day of the Prophet, in the Temple
+of the Bell and Leaf.
+
+"Jan Lucar," Watson felt prompted to say, "you need have no fear as to
+the outcome of the ordeal, whatever it may be. With your faith in me,
+I cannot fail. For the present, I need books, papers, scientific data.
+Moreover, I want to see the outside of this building."
+
+The guardsman bowed. "The data is possible, my lord, but as to leaving
+the building--I must consult the queen and the Rhamda Geos first."
+
+"But I said MUST" Watson dared to say. "I must go out into your world,
+see your cities, your lands, rivers, mountains, before I do aught else.
+I must be sure!"
+
+The other bowed again. He was visibly impressed.
+
+"What you ask, my lord, is full of danger. You must not be seen in
+the streets--yet. Untold bloodshed would ensue inevitably. To half the
+Thomahlians you are sacred, and to the other half an impostor. I repeat,
+my lord, that I must see the Geos and the queen."
+
+Another bow and the Jan disappeared, to return in a few moments with the
+Geos.
+
+"The Jan has told me, my lord, that you would go out."
+
+"If possible. I want to see your world."
+
+"I think it can be arranged. Is your lordship ready to go?"
+
+"Presently." Watson laid a hand on the big globe he had already puzzled
+over. "This represents the Thomahlia?"
+
+"Yes, my lord."
+
+"How long is your day, Geos?"
+
+"Twenty-four hours."
+
+"I mean, how many revolutions in one circuit of the sun, in one
+year-circle?"
+
+As he uttered the question Chick held his breath. It had suddenly struck
+him that he had touched an extremely definite point. The answer might
+PLACE him!
+
+"You mean, my lord, how long is a circle in term of days?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Three hundred and sixty-five and a fraction, my lord."
+
+Watson was dumbfounded. Could there be, in all the universe, another
+world with precisely the same revolution period? But he could not afford
+to show his concern. He said:
+
+"Tell me, have you a moon?"
+
+"Yes; it has a cycle of about twenty-eight days."
+
+Watson drew a deep breath. Inconceivable though it appeared, he was
+still on his own earth. For a moment he pondered, wondering if he had
+been caught up in tangle of time-displacement. Could it be that, instead
+of living in the present, he had somehow become entangled in the past or
+in the future?
+
+If so--and by now he was so accustomed to the unusual that he considered
+this staggering possibility with equanimity--if the time coefficient was
+at fault, then how to account for the picture of the professor, in that
+leaf? Had they both been the victims of a ghastly cosmic joke?
+
+There was but one way to find out.
+
+"Come! Lead the way, Geos; let us take a look at your world!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+LOOKING DOWN
+
+
+Presently the three men were standing at the door of a vast room, one
+entire side of which was wide open to the outer air. It was filled by a
+number of queer, shining objects. At first glance Chick took them to be
+immense beetles.
+
+The Jan Lucar spoke to the Geos:
+
+"We had best take the June Bug of the Rhamda Avec."
+
+Watson thought it best to say nothing, show nothing. The Jan ran up to
+one of the glistening affairs, and without the slightest noise he spun
+it gracefully around, running it out into the centre of the mosaic
+floor.
+
+"I presume," apologised the Geos, "that you have much finer aircraft in
+your world."
+
+Aircraft! Watson was all eagerness. He saw that the June Bug was about
+ten feet high, with a bunchy, buglike body. On closer scrutiny he could
+make out the outlines of wings folded tight against the sides. As for
+the material, it must have been metal, to use a term which does not
+explain very much, after all. In every respect the machine was a
+duplicate of some great insect, except that instead of legs it had
+well-braced rollers.
+
+"How does it operate?" Watson wanted to know. "That is, what power do
+you use, and how do you apply it?"
+
+The Jan Lucar threw back a plate. Watson looked inside, and saw a mass
+of fine spider-web threads, softer than the tips of rabbit's hair, all
+radiating from a central grey object about the size of a pea. Chick
+reached out to touch this thing with his finger.
+
+But the Geos, like a flash, caught him by the shoulder and pulled him
+back.
+
+"Pardon me, my lord!" he exclaimed. "But you must not touch it!
+You--even you, would be annihilated!" Then to the Lucar: "Very well."
+
+Whereupon the other did something in front of the craft; touched a
+lever, perhaps. Instantly the grey, spidery hairs turned to a dull red.
+
+"Now you may touch it," said the Geos.
+
+But Chick's desire had vanished. Instead he ventured a question:
+
+"All very interesting, but where is your machinery?"
+
+The Rhamda was slightly amused. He smiled a little. "You must give us a
+little credit, my lord. We must seem backward to you, but we have passed
+beyond reliance upon simple machines. That little grey pellet is, of
+course, our motive force; it is a highly refined mineral, which we mine
+in vast quantity. It has been in use for centuries. As for the hair-like
+web, that is our idea of a transmission."
+
+Watson hoped that he did not look as uncomprehending as he felt. The
+other continued:
+
+"In aerial locomotion we are content to imitate life as much as
+possible. We long ago discarded engines and propellers, and instead
+tried to duplicate the muscular and nervous systems of the birds and
+insects. We fly exactly as they do; our motive force is intrinsic. In
+some respects, we have improved upon life."
+
+"But it is still only a machine, Geos."
+
+"To be sure, my lord; only a machine. Anything without the life
+principle must remain so."
+
+The Jan Lucar pressed another catch, allowing another plate to lower
+and thereby disclose a glazed door, which opened into a cosy apartment
+fitted with wicker chairs, and large enough for four persons. There
+was some sort of control gear, which the Jan Lucar explained was not
+connected directly with the flying and steering members, but indirectly
+through the membranes of the web-like system. It was uncannily similar
+to the nervous connections of the cerebellum with the various parts of
+the anatomy of an insect.
+
+"Does it travel very fast?"
+
+"We think so, my lord. This is the private machine of the Rhamda Avec.
+It is rather small, but the swiftest machine in the Thomahlia."
+
+They entered the compartment, Watson took his seat beside the Geos,
+while the soldier sat forward next to the control elements. He laid
+his hands on certain levers; next instant, the machine was gliding
+noiselessly over the mosaic, on to a short incline and thence, with ever
+increasing speed, toward and through the open side of the room.
+
+The slides had all been thrown back; the compartment was enclosed only
+in glass. Watson could get a clear view, and he was amazed at the
+speed of the craft. Before he could think they were out in mid-air and
+ascending skyward. Travelling on a steep slant, there was no vibration,
+no mechanical noise; scarcely the suggestion of movement, except for the
+muffled swish of the air.
+
+Were it not for the receding city below him, Chick could have imagined
+himself sitting in a house while a windstorm tore by. He felt no change
+in temperature or any other ill effects; the cabin was fully enclosed,
+and heated by some invisible means. In short, ideal flight: for
+instance, the seats were swung on gimbals, so that no matter at
+what angle the craft might fly, the passengers would maintain level
+positions.
+
+Below stretched the Mahovisal--a mighty city of domes and plazas, and,
+widely scattered, a few minarets. At the southern end there was a vast,
+square plaza, covering thousands of acres. Toward it, on two sides,
+converged scores of streets; they stretched away from it like the ribs
+of a giant fan. On the remaining two sides there was a tremendously
+large building with a V-shaped front, opening on the square. The play
+of opal light on its many-bubbled roof resembled the glimmer from a vast
+pearl.
+
+In the air above the city an uncountable number of very small objects
+darted hither and thither like sparkling fireflies. It was difficult to
+realise that they, too, were aircraft.
+
+To the west lay an immense expanse of silver, melting smoothly into the
+horizon. Watson took it to be the Thomahlian ocean. Then he looked up at
+the sky directly above him, and breathed a quick exclamation.
+
+It was a single, small object, perfectly white, dropping out of the
+amethyst. Tiny at first, amost instantly it assumed a proportion nearly
+colossal--a great bird, white as the breast of the snowdrift, swooping
+with the grace of the eagle and the speed of the wind. It was so very
+large that it seemed, to Chick, that if all the other birds he had
+ever known were gathered together into one they would still be as the
+swallow. Down, down it came in a tremendous spiral, until it gracefully
+alighted in a splash of molten colour on the bosom of the silver sea.
+For a moment it was lost in a shower of water jewels--and then lay
+still, a swan upon the ocean.
+
+"What is it, Geos?"
+
+"The Kospian Limited, my lord. One of our great airships--a fast one, we
+consider it."
+
+"It must accommodate a good many people, Rhamda."
+
+"About nine thousand."
+
+"You say it comes from Kospia. How far away is that?"
+
+"About six thousand miles. It is an eight-hour run, with one stop. Just
+now the service is every fifteen minutes. They are coming, of course,
+for the Day of the Prophet."
+
+Watson continued to watch the great airship, noting the swarm of smaller
+craft that came out from the Mahovisal to greet it, until the Jan Lucar
+suddenly altered the course. They stopped climbing, and struck out on a
+horizontal level. It left the Mahovisal behind them, a shimmering spot
+of fire beside the gleaming sea. They were travelling eastwards. The
+landscape below was level and unvaried, of a greenish hue, and much
+like that of Chick's own earth in the early spring-time--a vast expanse,
+level and sometimes dotted with opalescent towns and cities. Ribbons of
+silver cut through the plain at intervals, crookedly lazy and winding,
+indicating a drainage from north to south or vice versa. Looking back to
+the west, he could see the great, golden sun, poised as he had seen it
+that morning, a huge amber plate on the rim of the world. It was sunset.
+
+Then Chick looked straight ahead. Far in the distance a great wall
+loomed skyward to a terrific height. So vast was it and so remote, at
+first it had escaped the eye altogether. An incredibly high range
+of mountains, glowing with a faint rose blush under the touch of the
+setting sun. Against the sky were many peaks, each of them tipped with
+curious and sparkling diamond-like corruscations. As Chick continued to
+gaze the rose began to purple.
+
+The Jan Lucar put the craft to another upward climb. So high were they
+now that the Thomahlia below was totally lost from view; it was but
+a maze of lurking shadows. The sun was only a gash of amber--it was
+twilight down on the ground. And Watson watched the black line of the
+Thomahlian shadow climb the purple heights before him until only the
+highest crests and the jewelled crags flashed in the sun's last rays.
+Then, one by one, they flickered out; and all was darkness.
+
+Still they ascended. Watson became uneasy, sitting there in the night.
+
+"Where are we going?"
+
+"To the Carbon Regions, my lord. It is one of the sights of the
+Thomahlia."
+
+"On top of those mountains?"
+
+"Beyond, my lord."
+
+Whereupon, to Chick's growing amazement, the Geos went on to state that
+carbon of all sorts was extremely common throughout their world. The
+same forces that had formed coal so generously upon the earth had thrown
+up, almost as lavishly, huge quantities of pure diamond. The material
+was of all colours, as diamonds run, and considered of small value; for
+every day purposes they preferred substances of more sombre hues. They
+used it, it seemed, to build houses with.
+
+"But how do they cut it?"
+
+"Very easily. The material which drives this craft--Ilodium--will cut it
+like butter."
+
+Later, Watson understood. He watched as the craft continued to climb;
+the Jan Lucar was steering without the aid of any outside lights
+whatever, there being only a small light illuminating his instruments.
+Chick presently turned his gaze outside again; whereupon he got another
+jolt.
+
+He saw a NEGATIVE sky!
+
+At first he thought his eyes the victims of an illusion; then he looked
+closer. And he saw that it was true; instead of the familiar starry
+points of light against a velvet background, the arrangement was
+just the reverse. Every constellation was in its place, just as Chick
+remembered it from the earth; but instead of stars there were jet-black
+spots upon a faint, grey background.
+
+The whole sky was one huge Milky Way, except for the black spots. And
+from it all there shone just about as much total light as from the
+heavens he had known.
+
+Of all he experienced, this was the most disturbing. It seemed totally
+against all reason; for he knew the stars to be great incandescent
+globes in space. How explain that they were here represented in reverse,
+their brilliance scattered and diffused over the surrounding sky,
+leaving points of blackness instead? Afterward he learned that the
+peculiar chemical constituency of the atmosphere was solely responsible
+for the inversion of the usual order of things.
+
+All of a sudden the Jan Lucar switched the craft to a level. He held up
+one hand and pointed.
+
+"Look, my lord, and the Rhamda! Look!"
+
+Both men rose from their seats, the better to stare past the soldier.
+Straight ahead, where had been one of the corruscating peaks, a streak
+of blue fire shot skyward, a column of light miles high, differing
+from the beams of a searchlight in that the rays were WAVY, serpentine,
+instead of straight. It was weirdly beautiful. Geos caught his breath;
+he leaned forward and touched the Jan Lucar.
+
+"Wait," he said in an awed tone. "Wait a moment. It has never come
+before, but we can expect it now." And even as he spoke, something
+wonderful happened.
+
+From the base of the column two other streaks, one red and the other
+bright green, cut out through the blackness on either side. The three
+streams started from the same point; they made a sort of trident, red,
+green, and blue--twisting, alive--strangely impressive, suggestive of
+grandeur and omnipotence--holy.
+
+Again the Rhamda spoke. "Wait!" said he. "Wait!"
+
+They were barely moving now. Watson watched and wondered. The three
+streams of light ran up and up, as though they would pierce the heavens;
+the eye could not follow their ends. All in utter silence, nothing but
+those beams of glorified light, their reality a hint of power, of life
+and wisdom--of the certainty of things. Plainly it had a tremendous
+significance in the minds of the Geos and the Lucar.
+
+Then came the climax. Slowly, but somehow inexorably, like the laws of
+life itself, and somewhere at a prodigious height above the earth, the
+three outer ends of the red and the green and the blue spread out
+and flared back upon themselves and one another, until their combined
+brilliance bridged a great rainbow across the sky. Blending into all
+the colours of the prism, the bow became--for a moment--pregnant with
+an overpowering beauty, symbolical, portentous of something stupendous
+about to come out of the unknown to the Thomahlians. And next--
+
+The bow began to move, to swirl, and to change in shape and colour. The
+three great rivers of light billowed and expanded and rounded into a new
+form. Then they burst--into a vast, three-leafed clover--blue and red
+and green!
+
+And Watson caught the startled words of the Geos:
+
+"The Sign of the Jarados!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+THE VOICE FROM THE VOID
+
+
+Even while that inexplicable heavenly pageant still burned against the
+heavens, something else took place, a thing of much greater importance
+to Chick. And, it happened right before his eyes.
+
+In the front of the car was a dial, slightly raised above the level of
+the various controlling instruments. And all of a sudden this dial, a
+small affair about six inches across, broke into light and life.
+
+First, there was a white blaze that covered the whole disc; then the
+whiteness abruptly gave way to a flood of colour, which resolved itself
+into a perfect miniature of the tri-coloured cloverleaf in the sky
+ahead. Chick saw, however that the positions of the red and green were
+just the obverse of what glowed in the distance; and then he heard the
+voice, strong and distinct, speaking with a slight metallic twang as
+from a microphone hidden in that little, blazing, coloured leaf:
+
+"Listen, ye who have ears to listen!"
+
+It was said in the Thomahlian tongue. The Geos breathed:
+
+"The voice of the Prophet Jarados!"
+
+But the next moment the unseen speaker began in another language--clear,
+silver, musical--in English, and in a voice that Chick recognised!
+
+"Chick! You have done well, my boy. Your courage and your intuition may
+lead us out. Follow the prophecy to the letter, Chick; it MUST come
+to pass, exactly as it is written! Don't fail to read it, there on the
+walls of the Temple of the Bell, when you encounter the Bar Senestro on
+the Day of the Prophet!
+
+"I have discovered many things, my boy, but I am not omnipotent. Your
+coming has made possible my last hope that I may return to my own kind,
+and take with me the secrets of life. You have done right to trust your
+instinct; have no fear, yet remember that if you--if we--make one false
+step we are lost.
+
+"Finally, if you should succeed in your contest with the Senestro, I
+shall send for you; but if you fail, I know how to die.
+
+"Return at once to the Mahovisal. Don't cross into the Region of Carbon.
+Take care how you go back; the Bars are waiting. But you can put full
+confidence in the Rhamdas."
+
+Then the speaker dropped the language of the earth and used the
+Thomahlian tongue again: "It is I who speak--I, the Prophet; the Prophet
+Jarados!"
+
+All in the voice of Dr. Holcomb.
+
+The blazing leaf faded into blackness, and the talking ceased. Chick was
+glad of the darkness; the whole thing was like magic, and too good
+to believe. The first actual words from the missing professor! Each
+syllable was frozen into Watson's memory.
+
+The Geos was clutching his arm.
+
+"Did you understand, my lord? We heard the voice of the prophet! What
+did he say?"
+
+"Yes, I understand. He used his own language--my language. And he
+said"--taking the reins firmly into his hands--"he said that we must
+return to the Thomahlia. And we must beware of the Bars."
+
+There was no thought of questioning him. Without waiting the Geos'
+command, the Jan Lucar began putting the craft about. Watson glanced at
+the sky; the great spectacle was gone; and he demanded of the soldier:
+
+"How can we get back? How do we find our way?"
+
+For there was no visible light save the strange, fitful glow from
+that uncanny sky to guide them; no lights from the inky carpet of the
+Thomahlia, lights such as one would expect for the benefit of fliers.
+But the soldier touched a button, and instantly another and larger dial
+was illumined above the instruments.
+
+It revealed a map or chart of a vast portion of the Thomahlia. On the
+farther edge there appeared an area coloured to represent water, and
+adjoining this area was a square spot labeled "The Mahovisal." And about
+midway from this point to the near edge of the dial a red dot hung,
+moving slowly over the chart.
+
+"The red dot, my lord, indicates our position," explained the Jan. "In
+that manner we know at all times where we are located, and which way we
+are flying. We shall arrive in the Mahovisal shortly."
+
+As he spoke the craft was gaining speed, and soon was travelling at
+an even greater rate than before. The red dot began to crawl at an
+astonishing speed. Of course, they had the benefit of the pull of
+gravity, now; apparently they would make the journey in a few minutes.
+But incredible though the speed might be, there was nothing but the red
+dot to show it.
+
+The Geos felt like talking. "My lord, the sign is conclusive. It is a
+marvel, such as only the prophet could possibly have produced; with all
+our science we could not duplicate such splendour. Only once before has
+the Thomahlia seen it."
+
+Already they were near enough to the surface to make out the clustered,
+blinking lights of the towns on the plain below. Ahead of them queer
+streamers of pale rays thrust through the darkness. Watson recognised
+them as the beams of the far-distant searchlights; and then and there
+he gave thanks for one thing, at least, in which the Thomahlians had
+seemingly progressed no further than the people of the earth.
+
+Coming a little nearer, Chick made out a number of bright, glittering,
+insect-like objects, revealed by these searchlights. The Jan Lucar said:
+
+"The Bars, my lord. They are waiting; and they will head us off if they
+can."
+
+"The work of Senestro, I suppose. I thought he claimed to some honour."
+
+"It is not the prince's work, my lord," replied the soldier. "His
+D'Hartian and Kospian followers, some of them, have no scruples as to
+how they might slay the 'false one', as they think you."
+
+"Suppose," hazarded Watson, "suppose I WERE the false one?"
+
+Both the Geos and the Jan smiled. But the Rhamda's voice was very sure
+as he replied:
+
+"If you were false, my lord, I would slay you myself."
+
+They were very near the Mahovisal now. Below was the unmistakable
+opalescence, somehow produced by powerful illumination, as intense as
+sunlight itself. The red dot was almost above the black square on the
+lighted chart. And directly ahead, the air was becoming alive with the
+beam-revealed aircraft. How could they get by in safety?
+
+But Chick did not know the Jan Lucar. The soldier said:
+
+"My lord is not uneasy?"
+
+"Of course not," with unconcern. "Why?"
+
+"Because I propose something daring. I am free to admit, my lord, that
+were the Geos and I alone, I should not attempt it. But not even the
+Bars," with magnificent confidence, "can stand before us now! We have
+had the proof of the Jarados, and we know that no matter what the odds,
+he will carry us through."
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"I propose to shoot it, my lord." And without explaining the Jan asked
+the Geos: "Are you agreeable? The June Bug will hold; the prophet will
+protect us."
+
+"Surely," returned the Rhamda. "There is nothing to fear, now, for those
+who are in the company of the chosen."
+
+Watson wondering watched the Jan as he tilted the nose of the June Bug
+and began to climb at an all but perpendicular angle straight into the
+heavens. Mile after mile, in less than as many minutes, they hurtled
+towards the zenith, so that the lights of the city dimmed until only
+the searching shafts could be seen. Chick began to guess what they
+were going to do; that the Jan Lucar was nearly as reckless as he was
+handsome.
+
+At last the soldier brought the craft to a level. They soared along
+horizontally for a while; the Jan kept his eye fixed on the red dot. And
+when it was directly above the black square he stated:
+
+"It is considered a perilous feat, my lord. We are going to drop. If we
+make it from this height, not only will we break all records, but will
+have proved the June Bug the superior in this respect, as she is in
+speed. It is our only chance in any circumstances, but with the Jarados
+at our side, we need not fear that the craft will stand the strain. We
+shall go through them like stone; before they know it we shall be in the
+drome--in less than a minute."
+
+"From this height?" Chick concealed a shudder behind a fair show of
+scepticism. "A minute is not much time."
+
+"Does my lord fear the drop?"
+
+"Why should I? I have in mind the June Bug; she might be set afire
+through friction, in dropping so quickly through the air." Watson had a
+vivid picture of a blazing meteorite, containing the charred bodies of
+three men, dropping out of--
+
+"My lord need not be concerned with that," the Jan assured him. "The
+shell of the car is provided with a number of tiny pores, through
+which a heat-resisting fluid will be pumped during the manoeuvre. The
+temperature may be raised a little, but no more.
+
+"You see this plug," touching a hitherto unused knob among the
+instruments. "By pulling that out, the mechanism of the craft is
+automatically adjusted to care for every phase of the descent. Nothing
+else remains to be done, after removing that plug, save to watch the red
+dot and prepare to step out upon the floor of our starting-place."
+
+"Has the thing ever been done before?" Watson was sparring for time
+while he gathered his nerve.
+
+"I myself have seen it, my lord. The June Bug has been sent up many
+times, weighted with ballast; the plug was abstracted by clockwork; and
+in fifty-eight seconds she returned through the open end of the drone,
+without a hitch. It was beautiful. I have always envied her that plunge.
+And now I shall have the chance, with the hand of the Jarados as my
+guide and protector!"
+
+Chick had just time to reflect that, if by any chance he got through
+with this, he ought to be able to pass any test conceivable. He ought
+to be able to get away with anything. He started to murmur a prayer; but
+before he could finish, the Jan Lucar leaned over the dial-map for the
+last time, saw that the red dot was now exactly central over the square
+that represented the city, and unhesitatingly jerked out the plug.
+
+Of what happened next Watson remembered but little. The bottom seemed to
+have dropped out of the universe. He was conscious of a crushing blur
+of immensity, of a silent thundering within him--then mental chaos and a
+stunned oblivion.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+WHO IS THE JARADOS?
+
+
+It was all over. Chick opened his eyes to see the Jan throwing open the
+plate on the side of the compartment. Neither the soldier nor the Rhamda
+seemed to have noted Chick's daze. As for the Jan, his blue eyes were
+dancing with dare-devilry.
+
+"That's what I call living!" he grinned. "They can keep on looking for
+the June Bug all night!"
+
+Chick looked out. They were inside the great room from which they had
+started; the trip was over; the plunge had been made in safety. Chick
+took a long breath, and held out a hand.
+
+"A man after my own heart, Jan Lucar. I foresee that we may have great
+sport with the Senestro."
+
+"Aye, my lord," cheerfully. "The presumptuous usurper! I only wish I
+could kill him, instead of you."
+
+"You are not the only one," commented the Rhamda. "Half of the Rhamdas
+would cheerfully act as the chosen one's proxy."
+
+And so ended the events of Chick Watson's first day beyond the Blind
+Spot, his first day on the Thomahlia; that is, disregarding the previous
+months of unconsciousness. He had good reason to pass a sleepless night
+in legitimate worry for the outcome of it all; but instead he slept the
+sound sleep of exhaustion, awakening the next morning much refreshed.
+
+He reminded himself, first of all, that today was the one immediately
+preceding that of his test--the Day of the Prophet. He had only a little
+more than twenty-four hours to prepare. What was the best and wisest
+proceeding?
+
+He called for the Geos. He told him what data he wanted. The Rhamda said
+that he could find everything in a library in that building, and inside
+a half-hour he returned with a pile of manuscripts.
+
+Left to himself, Chick found that he now had data relating to all the
+sciences, to religion, to education and political history and the law.
+The chronology of the Thomahlians, Chick found, dates back no less than
+fifteen thousand years. An abiding civilisation of that antiquity, it
+need not be said, presented somewhat different aspects from what is
+known on the earth.
+
+It seemed that the Jarados had come miraculously. That is, he had come
+out of the unknown, through a channel which he himself later termed the
+Spot of Life.
+
+He had taught a religion of enlightenment, embracing intelligence,
+love, virtue, and the higher ethics such as are inherent in all great
+philosophies. But he did not call himself a religionist. That was the
+queer point. He said that he had come to teach an advanced philosophy of
+life; and he expressly stated that his teachings were absolute only to a
+limited extent.
+
+"Man must seek and find," was one of his epigrams; "and if he find no
+more truths, then he will find lies." Which was merely a negative way of
+saying that some of his philosophy was only provisional.
+
+But on some points he was adamant. He had arrived at a time when the
+unthinking, self-glorifying Thomahlians had all but exterminated the
+lower orders of creation. The Jarados sought to remove the handicap
+which the people had set upon themselves, and gave them, in the place
+of kindness which they had forgotten, how to use, a burning desire for
+a positive knowledge, where before had been only blind faith. Also, he
+taught good-fellowship, as a means to this end. He taught beauty, love,
+and laughter, the three great cleansers of humanity. And yet, through it
+all--
+
+The Jarados was a mystic.
+
+He studied life after a manner of his own. He was a stickler for getting
+down to the very heart of things, for prodding around among causes until
+he found the cause itself. And thus he learned the secret of the occult.
+
+For so he taught. And presently the Jarados was recognized as an
+authority on what the Thomahlia called "the next world." Only he showed
+that death, instead of being an ushering into a void, was merely a
+translation onto another plane of life, a higher plane and a more
+glorious one. In short, a thing to be desired and attained, not to be
+avoided.
+
+This put the Spot of Life on an entirely different basis. No longer
+was it a fearsome thing. The Jarados elevated death to the plane of
+motherhood--something to glory in. And Chick gathered that his famous
+prophecy--which he had yet to read, where it hung on the wall of the
+temple--gave every detail of the Jarados' profound convictions and
+teachings regarding the mystery of the next life.
+
+And now comes a curious thing. As Chick read these details, he became
+more and more conscious of--what shall it be called?--the presence of
+someone or something beside him, above and all about him, watching his
+every movement. He could not get away from the feeling, although it was
+broad daylight, and he was seemingly quite alone in the room. Chick was
+not frightened; but he could have sworn that a very real personality was
+enveloping his own as he read.
+
+Every word, somehow, reminded him of the miraculous sequence of facts
+as he knew them; the unerring accuracy with which he, quite unthinkingly
+and almost without volition, had solved problem after problem, although
+the chances were totally against him. He became more and more convinced
+that he himself had practically no control over his affairs; that he
+was in the hands of an irresistible Fate; and that--he could not help
+it--his good angel was none other than the prophet who, almost ninety
+centuries ago, had lived and taught upon the Thomahlia, and in the end
+had returned to the unknown.
+
+But how could such a thing be? Watson did not even know where he was!
+Small wonder that, again and again, he felt the need of assurance. He
+asked for the Jan Lucar.
+
+"In the first place," began Chick without preamble, "you accept me, Jan
+Lucar; do you not?"
+
+"Absolutely, my lord."
+
+"You conceive me to be out of the spiritual world, and yet flesh and
+blood like yourself?"
+
+"Of course," with flat conviction.
+
+That settled it. Watson decided to find out something he had not had
+time to locate in the library.
+
+"The Rhamda may have told you, Jan Lucar, that I am here to seek the
+Jarados. Now, I suspect the Senestro. Can you imagine what he has done
+to the prophet?"
+
+"My lord," remonstrated the other, "daring as the Bar might be, he could
+do nothing to the Jarados. He would not dare."
+
+"Then he is afraid to run counter to the prophecy?"
+
+"Yes, my lord; that is, its literal interpretation. He is opposed only
+to the broader version as held by such liberals as the Rhamda Avec. The
+Bars are always warning the people against the false one."
+
+"And the Senestro is at their head," mused Chick aloud. "This brother of
+his who died--usually there are two such princes and chiefs?"
+
+"Yes, my lord."
+
+"And the Senestro plans to marry both queens, according to the custom!"
+
+"My lord"--and the Jan suddenly snapped erect--"the Bar will do
+exceedingly well if he succeeds in marrying one of them! Certainly he
+shall never have the Aradna--not while I live and can fight!"
+
+"Good! How about the Nervina?"
+
+"He'll do well to find her first!"
+
+"True enough. What would you say was his code of honour?"
+
+"My lord, the Senestro actually has no code. He believes in nothing. He
+is so constituted, mentally and morally, that he cares for and trusts in
+none but himself. He is a sceptic pure and simple; he cares nothing for
+the Jarados and his teachings. He is an opportunist seeking for power,
+wicked, lustful, cruel--"
+
+"But a good sportsman!"
+
+"In what way, my lord?"
+
+"Didn't he allow me the choice of combat?"
+
+The Jan laughed, but his handsome face could not hide his contempt.
+
+"It is ever so with a champion, my lord. He has never been defeated in
+a matter of physical prowess. It would be far more to his glory to
+overcome you in combat of your own selection. It will be spectacular--he
+knows the value of dramatic climax--and he would kill you in a moment,
+before a million Thomahlians."
+
+"It's a nice way to die," said Watson. "You must grant that much."
+
+"I don't know of any nice way to die, my lord. But it is a good way of
+living--to kill the Bar Senestro. I would that I could have the honour."
+
+"How does it come that the Rhamdas, superintellectual as they are,
+can consent to such a contest? Is it not degrading, to their way of
+thinking? It smacks of barbarism."
+
+"They do not look upon it in that light, my lord. Our civilisation has
+passed beyond snobbery. Of course there was a time, centuries ago when
+we were taught that any physical contest was brutal. But that was before
+we knew better."
+
+"You don't believe it now?"
+
+"By no means, my lord. The most wonderful physical thing in the
+Thomahlia is the human body. We do not hide it. We admire beauty,
+strength, prowess. The live body is above all art; it is the work of God
+himself; art is but an imitation. And there is nothing so splendid as
+a physical contest--the lightning correlation of mind and body. It is a
+picture of life."
+
+"Do the Rhamdas think this?"
+
+"Most assuredly. A Rhamda is always first an athlete."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Perfection, my lord. A perfect mind does not always dwell in a perfect
+body, but they strive for it as much as possible. The first test of a
+Rhamda is his body. After he passes that he must take the mental test."
+
+"Mental?"
+
+"Moral first. The most rigid, perhaps of all; he must be a man above
+suspicion. The honour of a Rhamda must never be questioned. He must
+be upright and absolutely unselfish. He must be broad-minded,
+human, lovable, and a leader of men. After that, my lord, comes the
+intellectual test."
+
+"He must be a learned man?"
+
+"Not exactly, your lordship. There are many very learned men who could
+not be Rhamdas; and there are many who have had no learning at all
+who eventually were admitted. The qualifications are intellectual,
+not educational; the mind is put to a rigid test. It is examined for
+alertness, perception, memory, reason, emotion, and control. There is no
+greater honour in all the Thomahlia."
+
+"And they are all athletes?"
+
+"Every one, my lord. In all the world there is no finer body of men, I
+myself would hesitate before entering a match with even the old Rhamda
+Geos."
+
+"How about the Rhamda Avec?"
+
+"Nor he, either; in the gymnasium he was always the superior, just as he
+topped all others morally and mentally."
+
+Did this explain the Avec's physical prowess, on the one hand, and the
+fact that he would not stoop to take that ring by force, on the other?
+
+"Just one more thing, Jan Lucar. You have absolutely no fear that I may
+fail tomorrow?"
+
+"Not the slightest, my lord. You cannot fail!"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I have already said--because you are from the Jarados."
+
+And Chick, facing the greatest experience of his life, submerged in a
+sea wherein only a few islands of fact were visible, had to be content
+with this: his only friends were those who were firmly convinced of
+something which, he knew only too well, was a flat fraud! All this
+backing was based upon a misled faith.
+
+No, not quite. Was there not that strange feeling that the Jarados
+himself was at his back? And had he not found that the prophet had
+been real? Did he not feel, as positively as he felt anything, that the
+Jarados was still a reality?
+
+Chick went to bed that night with a light heart.
+
+
+
+
+XL
+
+THE TEMPLE OF THE BELL
+
+
+It was hard for Chick to remember all the details of that great day.
+Throughout all the morning and afternoon he remained in his apartments.
+Breakfast over, the Rhamdas told him his part in certain ceremonies,
+such as need not be detailed here. They were very solicitous as to
+his food and comfort, and as to his feelings and anticipations. His
+nonchalance pleased them greatly. Afterward he had a bath and rub-down.
+
+A combat to the death, was it to be? Suits me, thought Watson. He was
+never in finer form.
+
+The Jan Lucar was particularly interested. He pinched and stroked
+Chick's muscles with the caressing pride of a connoisseur. Watson
+stepped out of the fountain bath in all the vigour of health. He
+playfully reached out for the Lucar and tripped him up. He sought to
+learn just what the Thomahlians knew in the art of self-defence.
+
+The brief struggle that ensued taught him that he need expect no easy
+conquest. The Jan was quick, active and the possessor of a science
+peculiarly effective. The Thomahlians did not box in the manner of the
+Anglo-Saxons; their mode was peculiar. Chick foresaw that he would
+be compelled to combine the methods of three kinds of combat: boxing,
+ju-jitsu, and the good old catch-as-catch-can wrestling. If the Senestro
+were superior to the Jan, he would have a time indeed. Though Watson
+conquered, he could not but concede that the Jan was not only clever but
+scientific to an oily, bewildering degree. The Lucar paused.
+
+"Enough, my lord! You are a man indeed. Do not overdo; save yourself for
+the Senestro."
+
+Clothes were brought, and Chick taken back to his apartment. The time
+passed with Rhamdas constantly at his side.
+
+The Geos was not present, nor the little queen. Chick sought permission
+to sit by the window--permission that was granted after the guards had
+placed screens that would withhold any view from outside, yet permit
+Chick to look out.
+
+As far as he could see, the avenues were packed with people. Only, this
+time the centres of the streets were clear; on the curbs he could see
+the opposing lines of the blue and crimson, holding back the waiting
+thousands. In the distance he could hear chimes, faint but distinct,
+like silver bells tinkling over water.
+
+At intervals rose strange choruses of weird, holy music. The full sweep
+of the city's domes and minarets was spread out before him. From eaves
+to basements the rolling luxuriance of orchidian beauty; banners, music,
+parade; a day of pageant, pomp, and fulfilment.
+
+He could catch the excitement in the air, the strange, laden
+undercurrent of spiritual salvation-something esoteric, undefinable, the
+ecstasy of a million souls pulsing to the throb of a supreme moment. He
+drew back, someone had touched him.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+It was one of the Rhamdas. He had in his hand a small metal clover, of
+the design of the Jarados.
+
+"What do I do?" asked Watson.
+
+"This," said the Rhamda, "was sent to you by one of the Bars."
+
+"By a Bar! What does it mean?"
+
+The other shook his head. "It was sent to you by one who wished it to be
+known by us that he is your friend, even though a Bar."
+
+Just then Watson noted something sticking out of the edge of one of the
+clover leaves. He pulled it out. It was a piece of paper. On it were
+scrawled words IN ENGLISH.
+
+The writing was pencil script, done in a poor hand and ill-spelled, but
+still English. Chick read:
+
+"Be of good cheer; there ain't a one in this world that can top a lad
+from Frisco. And it's Pat MacPherson that says it. Yer the finest laddie
+that ever got beyond the old Witch of Endor. You and me, if we hold on,
+is just about goin' to play hell with the haythen. Hold on and fight
+like the divil! Remember that Pat is with ye!
+
+"We're both spooks.
+
+"PAT MACPHERSON"
+
+Said Watson: "Who gave you this? Did you see the man?"
+
+"It was sent up my lord. The man was a high Bar in the Senestro's
+guard."
+
+Watson could not understand this. Was it possible that there were others
+in this mysterious region besides himself? At any rate, he wasn't wholly
+alone. He felt that he could count upon the Irishman--or was this
+fellow Scotch? Anyhow, such a man would find the quick means of wit at a
+crucial moment.
+
+Suddenly Watson noted a queer feeling of emptiness. He looked out of the
+window. The music had ceased, and the incessant hum of the throngs had
+deadened to silence. It was suspended, awesome, threatening. At the same
+time, the Jan Lucar came to attention, at the opposite door stood the
+Rhamda Geos, black clad, surrounded by a group of his fellows.
+
+"Come, my lord," he said.
+
+The crimson guard fell in behind Watson, the black-gowned took their
+places ahead, and the Jan Lucar and the Geos walked on either side. They
+stepped out into the corridor. By the indicator of a vertical clock,
+Chick noted that it was nine. He did not know the day of the year other
+than from the Thomahlian calendar; but he knew that it was close to
+sunset. He did not ask where they were going; there was no need. The
+very solemnity of his companions told him more than their answers would
+have. In a moment they were in the streets.
+
+Watson had thought that they would be taken by aircraft, or that
+they would pass through the building. He did not know that it was a
+concession to the Bar Senestro; that the Senestro was but playing a bit
+of psychology that is often practised by lesser champions. If Watson's
+nerve was not broken it was simply because of the iron indifference of
+confident health. Chick had never been defeated. He had no fear. He was
+far more curious as to the scenes and events about him than he was of
+the outcome. He was hoping for some incident that would link itself up
+into explanation.
+
+At the door a curious car of graceful lines was waiting, an odd affair
+that might be classed as a cross between a bird and a gondola, streaming
+with colours and of magnificent workmanship and design. On the deck of
+this the three men took their places; on the one side the Rhamda Geos,
+tall, sombre, immaculate; on the other, the magnificent Jan Lucar in the
+gorgeous crimson uniform, gold-braided and studded with jewels; on his
+head he wore the shako of purple down, and by his side a peculiar black
+weapon which he wore much in the manner of a sword.
+
+In the centre, Watson--bareheaded, his torso bare and his arms naked.
+He had been given a pair of soft sandals, and a short suit, whose one
+redeeming feature in his eyes was a pocket into which he had thrust the
+automatic that he valued so much. It was more like a picture of Rome
+than anything else. Whatever the civilisation of the Thomahlians, their
+ritual in Watson's eyes smacked still of barbarism.
+
+But he was intensely interested in all about him. The avenues were
+large. On either side the guards were drawn up eight deep, holding back
+the multitude that pressed and jostled with the insistence of curiosity.
+He looked into the myriad faces; about him, splendid features, of
+intelligent man and women.
+
+Not one face suggested the hideous; the women were especially beautiful,
+and, from what he could see, finely formed and graceful. Many of them
+smiled; he could hear the curious buzz of conjecturing whispers. Some
+were indifferent, while others, from the expression of their faces, were
+openly hostile.
+
+Chick was in the middle of a procession, the Rhamdas marching before and
+the crimson guard bringing up the rear. A special guard: the inner one,
+Rhamdas, the outer one of crimson surrounding them all.
+
+The car started. There was no trace of friction; it was noiseless,
+automatic. Chick could only conjecture as to its mechanism. The black
+column of Rhamdas moved ahead rhythmically, with the swing of solemn
+grandeur. For some minutes they marched through the streets of the
+Mahovisal. There was no cheering; it was a holy, awesome occasion. Chick
+could sense the undercurrent of the staring thousands, the reverence
+and the piety. It was the Day of the Prophet. They were staring at a
+miracle.
+
+The column turned a corner. For the first time Watson was staggered by
+sheer immensity; for the first time he felt what it might be to see with
+the eyes of an insect. Had he been an ant looking up at the columns
+of Karnak, he would still have been out of proportion. It was immense,
+colossal, beyond man. It was of the omnipotent--the pillared portal of
+the Temple of the Bell.
+
+Such a building a genius might dream of, in a moment of unhampered,
+inspired imagination. It was stupendous. The pillars were hexagonal
+in shape, and in diameter each of about the size of an ordinary house.
+Dropping from an immense height, it seemed as if they had originally
+poured out in the form of molten metal from immense bell-like flares
+that fell from the vaulted architrave. Such was the design.
+
+Chick got the impression that the top of the structure, somehow, was
+not supported by the foundation, but rather the reverse--the floor was
+suspended from the ceiling. It was the work of the Titans--so high
+and stupendous that at the first instant Watson felt numb with
+insignificance. What chance had he against men of such colossal
+conception.
+
+How large the building was he could not see. The Gargantuan facade
+itself was enough to smother comprehension. It was laid out in the
+form of a triangle, one end of which was open towards the city; the
+two sections of the facade met under a huge, arched opening--the door
+itself. Watson recognised the structure as the one he had seen from
+the June Bug on the outskirts of the Mahovisal. The enormous plaza was
+packed with people, leaving only a narrow lane for the procession; and
+as far back as Chick could see crowds in the streets converged towards
+this vast space. Their numbers were incalculable.
+
+The car stopped. The guards, both crimson and blue, formed a twenty-fold
+cordon. Watson could feel the suspended breath of the waiting multitude.
+The three men stepped out--the Geos first, then the Jan Lucar, and
+Watson last. Chick caught the Lucar's eye; it was confident; the man was
+springing with vigour, jovial in spite of the moment.
+
+They passed between two of the huge pillars, and under the giant arch.
+For a few minutes they walked through what seemed, to Chick, a perfect
+maze of those titanic columns. And every foot was marked by the lines of
+crimson and blue, flanking either side.
+
+An immense sea of people rose high into the forest of pillars as far as
+his eye could reach. He had never been in such a concourse of humanity.
+
+They passed through an inner arch, a smaller and lower one, into what
+Chick guessed was the temple proper. And if Chick had thought the
+anteroom stupendous, he saw that a new word, one which went beyond all
+previous experience, was needed to describe what he now saw.
+
+It was almost too immense to be grasped in its entirety. Gone was the
+maze of columns; instead, far, far away to the right and to the left,
+stood single rows of herculean pillars. There were but seven on a side,
+separated by great distances; and between them stretched a space so
+immense, so incredibly vast, that a small city could have been housed
+within it. And over it all was not the open sky, but a ceiling of such
+terrific grandeur that Chick almost halted the procession while he
+gazed.
+
+For that ceiling was the under side of a cloud, a grey-black, forbidding
+thundercloud. And the fourteen pillars, seven on either side, were
+prodigious waterspouts, monster spirals of the hue of storm, with
+flaring sweeps at top and bottom that welded roof and floor into one
+terrific whole. Sheer from side to side stretched that portentous level
+cloud; it was a span of an epoch; and on either side it was rooted in
+those awful columns, seemingly alive, as though ready at any instant to
+suck up the earth into the infinite.
+
+By downright will-power Watson tore his attention away and directed it
+upon the other features of that unprecedented interior. It was lighted,
+apparently, by great windows behind the fourteen pillars; windows
+too far to be distinguishable. And the light revealed, directly ahead
+something that Chick at first thought to be a cascade of black water.
+It leaped out of the rear wall of the temple, and at its crest it
+was bordered with walls of solid silver, cut across and designed with
+scrolls of gold and gem work; walls that swooped down and ended with two
+huge green columns at the base of that fantastic fall.
+
+As they approached a swarm of tiny bronze objects, silver winged,
+fluttered out through the temple--tiny birds, smaller than swallows,
+beautiful and swift-winged, elusive. They were without number; in a
+moment the air of the temple was alive with flitting, darting spots of
+glinting colour.
+
+Then Chick saw that there were two people sitting high on the crest
+of that cascade. Wondering, Chick and the rest marched on through the
+silent crowd; all standing with bared heads and bated breaths. The
+worshipping Thomahlians filled every inch of that enormous place. Only
+a narrow lane permitted the procession to pass towards that puzzling,
+silent, black waterfall.
+
+They were almost at its base when Chick saw the vanguard of the Rhamdas
+unhesitatingly stride straight against the torrent, and then mount upon
+it. Up they marched; and Chick knew that the black water was black jade,
+and that the two people at its crest were seated upon a landing at the
+top of the grandest stairway he had ever seen.
+
+Up went the Rhamdas deploying to right and left against the silver
+walls. The crimson and blue uniformed guards remained behind, lining
+the lane through the throng. At the foot of the steps Chick stopped and
+looked around, and again he felt numb at the sheer vastness of it all.
+
+For he was looking back now at the portal through which the procession
+had marched; a portal now closed; and above it, covering a great expanse
+of that wall and extending up almost into the brooding cloud above, was
+spread a mighty replica of the tri-coloured Sign of the Jarados.
+
+For the first time Chick felt the full significance of symbolism.
+Whereas before it had been but an incident of adventure, now it was the
+symbol of mystic revelation. It was not only the motif for all other
+decoration upon the walls and minor elements of the temple; it was the
+emblem of the trinity, deep, holy, significant of the mystery of
+the universe and the hereafter. There was something deeper than mere
+fatalism; behind all was the fact-rooted faith of a civilisation.
+
+But at that moment, as Chick paused with one foot on the bottom step of
+the flight, something happened that sent quivers of joy and confidence
+all through him. Someone was talking--talking in English!
+
+Chick looked. The speaker was a man in the blue garb of the Senestro's
+guard. He was standing at the end of the line nearest the stair, and
+slightly in front of his fellows. Like the rest, he was holding his
+weapon, a black, needled-pointed sword, at the salute. Chick gave him
+only a glance, then had the presence of mind to look elsewhere as a man
+said, in a low, guarded voice:
+
+"Y' air right, me lad; don't look at me. I know what ye're thinkin'. But
+she ain't as bad as she looks! Keep yer heart clear; never fear. You an'
+me can lick all Thomahlia! Go straight up them stairs, an' stand that
+blackguard Senestro on his 'ead, just like y'd do in Frisco!"
+
+"Who are you?" asked Watson, intent upon the great three-leafed clover.
+He used the same low, cautious tone the other had employed. "Who are
+you, friend?"
+
+"Pat MacPherson, of course," was the answer. "An' Oi've said a plenty.
+Now, go aboot your business."
+
+Watson did not quibble. There was no time to learn more. He did not wish
+it to be noticed; yet he could not hide it from the Jan Lucar and the
+Rhamda Geos, who were still at his side. They had heard that tongue
+before. The looks they exchanged told, however, that they were gratified
+rather than displeased by the interruption. Certainly all feelings of
+depression left Chick, and he ascended the stairs with a glad heart and
+a resilient stride that could not but be noticed.
+
+He was ready for the Senestro.
+
+
+
+
+XLI
+
+THE PROPHECY
+
+
+Reaching the top of the jade steps, Chick found the landing to be a
+great dais, nearly a hundred feet across. On the right and left this
+dais was hedged in by the silver walls, on each of which was hung a
+huge, golden scrollwork. These scrolls bore legends, which for the
+moment Chick ignored. At the rear of the dais was a large object like a
+bronze bell.
+
+The floor was of the usual mosaic, except in the centre, where there
+was a plain, circular design. Chick took careful note of this, a circle
+about twenty feet across, as white and unbroken as a bed of frozen snow.
+Whether it was stone or not he could not determine. All around its edge
+was a gap that separated it from the dais, a gap several inches across.
+Chick turned to Geos:
+
+"The Spot of Life?"
+
+"Even so. It is the strangest thing in all the Thomahlia, my lord. Can
+you feel it?"
+
+For Watson had reached out with his toe and touched the white surface.
+He drew it back suddenly.
+
+"It has a feeling," he replied, "that I cannot describe. It is cold, and
+yet it is not. Perhaps it is my own magnetism."
+
+"Ah! It is well, my lord!"
+
+What the Rhamda meant by that Chick could not tell. He was interested
+in the odd white substance. It was as smooth as glass, although at
+intervals there were faint, almost imperceptible, dark lines, like the
+finest scratches in old ivory. Yet the whiteness was not dazzling. Again
+Watson touched it with his foot, and noted the inexplicable feeling of
+exhilaration. In the moment of absorption he quite forgot the concourse
+about him. He knew that he was now standing on the crux of the Blind
+Spot.
+
+But in a minute he turned. The dais was a sort of nave, with one end
+open to the stairway. Seated on his left was the frail Aradna, occupying
+a small throne-like chair of some translucent green material. On the
+right sat the Bar Senestro, in a chair differing only in that its colour
+was a bright blue. In the centre of the dais stood a third chair--a
+crimson one--empty.
+
+The Senestro stood up. He was royally clad, his breast gleaming with
+jewels. He was certainly handsome; he had the carriage of confident
+royalty. There was no fear in this man, no uncertainty, no weakness.
+If confidence were a thing of strength, the Senestro was already the
+victor. In his heart Chick secretly admired him.
+
+But just then the Aradna stood up, She made an indication to Watson. He
+stepped over to the queen. She sat down again.
+
+"I want to give you my benediction, stranger lord. Are you sure of
+yourself? Can you overcome the Senestro?"
+
+"I am certain," spoke Watson. "It is for the queen, O Aradna. I know
+nothing of the prophecy; but I will fight for you!"
+
+She blushed and cast a furtive look in the direction of the Senestro.
+
+"It is well," she spoke. "The outcome will have a double
+interpretation--the spiritual one of the prophecy, and the earthly,
+material one that concerns myself. If you conquer, my lord, I am freed.
+I would not marry the Senestro; I love him not. I would abide by the
+prophet, and await the chosen." She hesitated. "What do you know of the
+chosen, my lord?"
+
+"Nothing, O Aradna."
+
+"Has not the Rhamda Geos told you?"
+
+"Partly, but not fully. There is something that he is withholding."
+
+"Very likely. And now--will you kneel, my lord?"
+
+Watson knelt. The queen held out her hand. Behind him Chick could hear
+a deep murmur from the assembled multitudes. Just what was the
+significance of that sound he did not know; nor did he care. It was
+enough for him that he was to fight for this delicately beautiful
+maiden. He would let the prophecy take care of itself.
+
+Besides these three on the dais there were only the Rhamda Geos and
+the Jan Lucar. These two remained on the edge nearest the body of the
+temple, the edge at the crest of the stair. The empty chair remained so.
+
+Suddenly Chick remembered the warning of Dr. Holcomb: "Read the words of
+the Prophet." And he took advantage of the breathing-spell to peruse the
+legends on the great golden scrolls:
+
+THE PROPHECY OF THE JARADOS
+
+Behold! When the day is at hand, prepare ye!
+
+For, when that day cometh, ye shall have signs and portents from the
+world beyond. Wisdom cometh out of life, and life walketh out of wisdom.
+Yea, in the manner of life and of spirit ye shall have them, and of
+substance even like unto you yourselves.
+
+And it shall come to pass in the last days, that we shall be on guard.
+By these signs ye shall know them; even by the truths I have taught
+thee. The way of life is an open door; wisdom and virtue are its keys.
+And when the intelligence shall be lifted to the plane above--then shalt
+thou know!
+
+Mark ye well the Spot of Life! He that openeth it is the precursor of
+judgment. Mark him well!
+
+And thus shall the last days come to pass. See that ye are worthy, O
+wise ones! For behold in those last days there shall come among ye--
+
+The chosen of a line of kings. First there shall be one, and then there
+shall be two; and the two shall stay but the one shall return.
+
+The false ones. Them ye shall slay!
+
+The four footed: The call to humility, sacrifice and devotion, whom ye
+shall hold in reverence even as you hold me, the Jarados.
+
+And on the last day of all--I, the Jarados!
+
+Beware ye of sacrilege! Lest I take from ye all that I have given ye,
+and the day be postponed--beware ye of sacrilege!
+
+And if the false ones cometh not, ye shall know that I have held them.
+Know ye the day!
+
+Sixteen days from the day of the prophet, shall come the day of the
+judgment; and the way shall be opened, on the last day, the sixteenth
+day of the Jarados.
+
+Hearken to the words of the Jarados, the prophet and mouthpiece of
+the infinite intelligence, ruler of justice, peace, and love! So be it
+forever!
+
+Chick read it a second time. Like all prophecies, it was somewhat
+Delphic; but he could get the general drift. In that golden script he
+was looking into the heart of all Thomahlia--into its greatness, its
+culture, its civilisation itself. It was the soul of the Blind Spot, the
+reason and the wherefore of all about him.
+
+He heard someone step up behind him, and he turned. It was the Senestro,
+going over the words of the prophecy.
+
+"Can you read it, Sir Phantom?" asked the handsome Bar. His black eyes
+were twinkling with delight. "Have you read it all?"
+
+He put a hand on Chick's shoulder. It was a careless act, almost
+friendly. Either he had the heart of a devil or the chivalry of a
+paladin. He pointed to a line:
+
+"'The false ones. Them ye shall slay.'"
+
+"And if I were the false one, you would slay me?" asked Watson.
+
+"Aye, truly!" answered the splendid prince. "You are well made and
+good to look upon. I shall hold you in my arms; I shall hear your bones
+crack; it shall be sweeter music than that of the temple pheasants,
+who never sing but for the Jarados. I shall slay you upon the Spot, Sir
+Phantom!"
+
+Watson turned on his heel. The ethics of the Senestro were not of his
+own code. He was not afraid; he stood beside the Jan Lucar and gazed out
+into the body of the temple. As far as he could see, under and past the
+fourteen great pillars and right up to the far wall, the floor was a
+vast carpet of humanity.
+
+It was become dark. Presently a new kind of light began to glow far
+overhead, gradually increasing in strength until the whole place was
+suffused with a sun-like illumination. The Rhamda Geos began to speak.
+
+"In the last day, in the Day of Life. We have the substance of
+ourselves, and the words of the prophet. The Jarados has written his
+prophecy in letters of gold, for all to see. 'The false ones. Them ye
+shall slay.' It is the will of the Rhamdas that the great Bar Senestro
+shall try the proof of the occult. On this, the first of the Sixteen
+Days, the test shall be--on the Spot of Life!"
+
+He turned away. The Bar Senestro stripped off his jewels, his
+semi-armour, and stood clad in the manner of Watson. They advanced and
+met in the centre of the dais, two athletes, lithe, strong, handsome,
+their muscles aquiver with vitality and their skins silken with health.
+Champions of two worlds, to wrestle for truth!
+
+A low murmur arose, increasing until it filled the whole coliseum. The
+silver-bronze pheasants flitted above the heads of all, flashing like
+fragments of the spirit of light. And all of a sudden--
+
+One of them fluttered down and lit on Watson's shoulder.
+
+The murmur of the throng dropped to a dead silence. Next moment
+a stranger thing happened. The little creature broke forth in
+full-throated song.
+
+Watson instantly remembered the words of the Bar Senestro: "They sing
+but for the Jarados." He quietly reached up and caught the songster
+in his hand, and he held it up to the astonished crowd. Still the song
+continued. Chick held him an instant longer, and then gave him a toss
+high into the air. He shot across the temple, a streak of melody,
+silver, dulcet, to the far corner of the giant building.
+
+But the thing did not jar the Senestro.
+
+"Well done, Sir Phantom! Anyhow, 'tis your last play! I would not have
+it otherwise. I hope you can die as prettily! Are you ready?"
+
+"Ready? What for?" retorted Watson. "Why, should I trouble myself with
+preparations?"
+
+But the Rhamda Geos had now come to his side.
+
+"Do your best, my lord. I regret only that it must be to the death.
+It is the first death contest in the Thomahlia for a thousand circles
+(years). But the Senestro has challenged the prophecy. Prove that you
+are not a false one! My heart is with you."
+
+It was a good word at a needed moment. Watson stepped over onto the
+circular Spot of Life.
+
+They were both barefooted. Evidently the Thomahlians fought in the old,
+classic manner. The stone under Watson's feet was cool and invigorating.
+He could sense anew that quiver of magnetism and strength. It sent a
+thrill through his whole body, like the subtle quickening of life. He
+felt vital, joyous, confident.
+
+The Senestro was smiling, his eyes flashing with anticipation. His
+muscled body was a network of soft movement. His step was catlike.
+
+"What will it be?" inquired Watson. "Name your choice of destruction."
+
+But the Bar shook his head.
+
+"Not so, Sir Phantom. You shall choose the manner of your death, not I.
+Particular I am not, nor selfish."
+
+"Make it wrestling, then," in his most off-hand manner. He was a good
+wrestler, and scientific.
+
+"Good. Are you ready?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"Very well, Sir Phantom. I shall walk to the edge of the Spot and turn
+around. I would take no unfair advantage. Now!"
+
+Chick turned at the same moment and strode to his edge. He turned,
+and it happened; just what, Chick never knew. He remembered seeing his
+opponent turn slowly about, and in the next split second he was spinning
+in the clutch of a tiger. Even before they struck the stone, Chick could
+feel the Senestro reaching for a death-hold.
+
+And in that one second Watson knew that he was in the grip of his
+master.
+
+His mind functioned like lightning. His legs and arms flashed for the
+counterhold that would save him. They struck the Spot and rolled over
+and over. Chick caught his hold, but the Senestro broke it almost
+instantly. Yet it had saved him; for a minute they spun around like a
+pair of whirligigs. Watson kept on the defensive. He had not the speed
+and skill of the other. It was no mere test to touch his shoulders;
+it was a fight to the death; he was at a disadvantage. He worked
+desperately.
+
+When a man fights for his life he becomes superhuman. Watson was put to
+something more than his skill; the sheer spirit of the Bar broke hold
+after hold; he was like lightning, panther-like, subtle, vicious. Time
+after time he spun Chick out of his defense and bore him down into
+a hold of death. And each time Chick somehow wriggled out, and saved
+himself by a new hold. The struggle became a blur--muscle, legs, the
+lust for killing--and hatred. Twice Watson essayed the offensive; first
+he got a hammer lock, and then a half-Nelson. The Bar broke both holds
+immediately.
+
+Whatever Chick knew of wrestling, the Senestro knew just a bit more. It
+was a whirling mass of legs and bodies in continuous convulsion,
+silent except for the terrible panting of the men, and the low, stifled
+exclamations of the onlookers.
+
+And then--
+
+Watson grew weak. He tried once more. They spun to their feet. But
+before he could act the Senestro had caught him in the same flying rush
+as in the beginning, and had whirled him off his feet. And when he came
+down the Bar had an unbreakable hold.
+
+Chick struggled in vain. The Bar tightened his grip. A spasm of pain
+shot through Chick's torso; he could feel his bones giving way. His
+strength was gone; he could see death. Another moment would have been
+the end.
+
+But something happened. The Senestro miraculously let go his hold. Chick
+felt something soft brush against his cheek. He heard a queer snapping,
+and shouts of wonder, and a dreadful choking sound from the Bar. He
+raised dizzily on one arm. His eyes cleared a bit.
+
+The great Bar was on his back; and at his throat was a snarling
+thing--the creature that Chick had seen in the clover leaf of the
+Jarados.
+
+It was a living dog.
+
+PAT MACPHERSON'S STORY
+
+To Watson it was all a blur. He was too weak and too broken to remember
+distinctly. He was conscious only of an uproar, of a torrent of
+multitudinous sound. And then--the deep, enveloping tone of a bell.
+
+Some time, somewhere, Chick had heard that bell before. In his present
+condition his memory refused to serve him. He was covered with blood; he
+tried to rise, to crawl to this snarling animal that was throttling the
+Senestro. But something seemed to snap within him, and all went black.
+
+When he opened his eyes again all had changed. He was lying on a couch
+with a number of people about. It was a minute before he recognized the
+Jan Lucar, then the Geos, and lastly the nurse whom he had first seen
+when he awoke in the Blind Spot. Evidently he was in the hands of his
+friends, although there was a new one, a red-headed man, clad in the
+blue uniform of a high Bar.
+
+He sat up. The nurse held a goblet of the green liquid to his lips. The
+Bar in blue turned.
+
+"Aye," he said. "Give him some of the liquor; it will do him good. It
+will put the old energy back in his bones."
+
+The voice rang oddly familiar in Watson's ears. The words were
+Thomahlian; not until Chick had drained his glass did he comprehend
+their significance.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked.
+
+The Bar with the red hair grinned.
+
+"Whist, me lad," using Chick's own tongue. "Get rid of these
+Thomahlians. 'Tis a square game we're playin', but we're takin' no
+chances. Get 'em out of the way so we kin talk."
+
+Watson turned to the others. He made the request in his adopted tongue.
+They bowed, reverently, and withdrew.
+
+"Who are you?" Chick asked again.
+
+"Oi'm Pat MacPherson."
+
+"How did you get here?"
+
+The other sat on the edge of the bed. "Faith, how kin Oi tell ye? 'Twas
+a drink, sor; a new kind av a high-ball, th' trickery av a friend an'
+th' ould Witch av Endor put togither."
+
+Obviously Watson did not understand. The stranger continued: "Faith,
+sor, an' no more do Oi. There's no one as does, 'cept th' ould doc
+hisself."
+
+"The old doc! You mean Dr. Holcomb?"
+
+Watson sat up in his bed. "Where is he?"
+
+"In a safe place, me lad. Dinna fear for th' doctor. 'Twas him as saved
+ye--him an' your humble sarvant, Pat MacPherson, bedad."
+
+"He--and you--saved me?"
+
+"Aye--there on th' Spot of Life. A bit of a thrick as th' ould doc dug
+oot o' his wisdom. Sure, she dinna work jist loike he said it, but 'twas
+a plenty t' oopset th' pretty Senestro!"
+
+Watson asked, "What became of the Senestro?"
+
+"Sure, they pulled him oot. Th' wee doggie jist aboot had him done for.
+Bedad, she's a good pup!"
+
+"What kind of a dog?"
+
+"A foine wan, sor, wit a bit stub av a tail. An' she's that intelligent,
+she kin jist about talk Frinch. Th' Thomahlians all called her th'
+Four-footed, an' if they kape on, they'll jist aboot make her th' Pope."
+
+Watson was still thick headed. "I don't understand!"
+
+"Nor I laddie. But th' ould doc does. He's got a foine head for figgers;
+and' he's that scientific, he kin make iron oot o' rainbows."
+
+"Iron out of--what?"
+
+"Rainbows, sor. Faith, 'tis meself thot's seen it. And he's been
+watchin' over ye ever since ye came. 'Twas hisself, lad, that put it
+into your head t' call him th' Jarados."
+
+"You don't mean to say that the professor put those impulses into my
+head!"
+
+"Aye, laddie; you said it. He kin build up a man's thoughts just
+like you or me kin pile oop lumber. 'Tis that deep he is wit' th'
+calculations!"
+
+Watson tried to think. There was just one superlative question now. He
+put it.
+
+"I dinna know if he's th' Jarados," was the reply. "But if so be not,
+then he's his twin brother, sure enough."
+
+"Is he a prisoner?"
+
+"I wouldna say that, though there's them as think so. But if it be
+anybody as is holdin' him, 'tis the Senestro an' his gang o' guards."
+
+Watson looked at the other's uniform, at the purple shako on his
+head, the jewelled weapon at his side, and the Jaradic leaf on his
+shoulder--insignia of a Bar of the highest rank.
+
+"How does it come that you're a Bar, and a high one at that?"
+
+The other grinned again. He took off his shako and ran his hand through
+his mop of red hair.
+
+"'Tis aither th' luck of th' Irish, me lad, or of th' Scotch. Oi don't
+ken which--Oi'm haff each--but mostly 'tis th' virtoo av me bonny red
+hair."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because, leastways, in th' Thomahlia, there's always a dhrop av royalty
+in th' red-headed. Me bonnie top-knot has made me a fortune. Ye see,
+'tis th' mark av th' royal Bars themselves; no ithers have it."
+
+Watson said: "If you have come from Dr. Holcomb, then you must have a
+message from him to me."
+
+"Ye've said it; you an' me, an' a few Rhamdas, an' mebbe th' wee queen
+is goin' t' take a flight in th' June Bug. We're goin' afther th' ould
+doc; an' ye kin bet there'll be as pretty a scrap as ever ye looked
+on. An' afther thot's all over, we're goin' t' take anither kind of a
+flight--into good old Frisco."
+
+Chick instantly asked Pat if he knew where San Francisco might be.
+
+"Faith, 'tis only th' ould doc knows, laddie. But when we git there,
+'tis Pat MacPherson that's a goin' for Toddy Maloney."
+
+"I don't know that name."
+
+"Bedad, I do. Him it was thot give me th' dhrink."
+
+"What drink?"
+
+Th' dhrink thot done it. Twas a new kind av cocktail. Ye see, I'd jist
+got back from Melbourne, an' I was takin' in th' lights that noight,
+aisy like, whin I come t' Toddy's place. I orders a dhrink av whuskey.
+
+"'Whist, Pat,' says he, 'ye don't want whuskey; 'twill make ye dhrunk.
+Why don't ye take somethin' green, like th' Irish?'
+
+"'Green," says I. ''Tis a foine colour. I dinna fear anything thot comes
+fra' a bottle. Pass'er oot!'
+
+"An' thot he did. 'Twas 'creme de menthay' on th' bottle. 'An',' says
+he, ''Twon't make ye dhrunk.' But he was a liar, beggin' yer pardin.
+
+"For by an' by Oi see his head a growin' larger an' larger, until Oi
+couldn't see annything but a few loights on th' cailing, an' a few
+people on th' edges, loike. An' afther thot Oi wint oot, an' walked
+till Oi come to a hill. An' there was a moon, an' a ould hoose standin'
+still, which th' moon was not. So Oi stood still to watch it, but bein'
+tired an' weary an' not havin' got rid o' me sea-legs, Oi sat me doon
+on th' steps av th' hoose for a bit av a rest, an' t' watch th' moon,
+thinkin' mebbe she'd stand still by an' by.
+
+"Well, sor, Oi hadn't been there more'n three 'r four minits, whin th'
+door opened, an' oot steps a little ould lady, aboot th' littlest an'
+ouldest Oi iver see in 'Frisco.
+
+"'Good avenin', Mother Machree,' says Oi, touchin' me hat.
+
+"'Mother Machree!' says she, an' gives me a sharp look. Also she sniffs.
+'Ye poor man,' says she. 'Ye'll catch yer death o' cold, out here. Ye
+better coom in an' lie on me sofy.'
+
+"Now, sor, how was Oi to ken, bein' a sailor an' ingorant? She was only
+a ould lady, an' withered. How was Oi to ken thot she was th' ould Witch
+o' Endor?"
+
+Watson's memory was at work on what he knew of the house at Chatterton
+Place, especially regarding its occupants at the beginning of the Blind
+Spot mystery. The Bar's old remark caught his attention.
+
+"The Witch of Endor?"
+
+"Aye; thot she were. Whin Oi woke up, there was nary a hoose at all, nor
+th' ould lady, nor Toddy Maloney's, nor 'Frisco. 'Twas a strange place I
+was, sor; a church loike St. Peter's, only bigger, th' same bein' harrd
+to belaive. An' th' columns looked loike waterspoots, an' th' sky above
+was full av clouds, the same bein' jest aboot ready to break into hell
+an' tempest. But ye've been there yerself, sor.
+
+"Well, here was a man beside me, dressed in a kilt. An' he spakes a
+strange language, although Oi could undershtand; and' he says, says he:
+
+"'My lord,' was what he says.
+
+"'My lord!' says Oi. 'Oi dinna ken what ye mane at all, at all.'
+
+"'Are ye not a Bar?' says he.
+
+"'Thot Oi am not!' says Oi, spakin' good English, so's to be sure he'd
+understand. 'Oi'm Pat MacPherson.'
+
+"But he couldn' ken. Thin we left th' temple an' wint out into the
+street. An' a great crowd of people came aroun' an' began shoutin'. By
+an' by we wint into anither buildin'.
+
+"'For why sh'd iverybody look at me whin we crossed th' street jest
+noo?' I asked.
+
+"'Tis y'r clothes,' says he.
+
+"Now, Oi don't enjoy pooblicity, sor; wherefore th' wily Scotch in me
+told me what to do, an' th' Irish part of me did it. I stood him on his
+head, an' took his clothes off an' put them on meself. An' then no one
+noticed me. Thot is, until Oi took me hat off."
+
+"You mean, that shako?"
+
+"Yis; th' blaemd heavy thing--'tis made o' blue feathers. Well, whin it
+got so hot it made me scalp sweat, Oi took it off; an' then they called
+me--'My lord' an' 'your worship,' jest loike Oi were a king.
+
+"'Pray God,' says Oi, 'that me head dinna get bald.'
+
+"Well, sor, Oi had a toime that was fit for th' Irish. Oi did iverything
+'cept git drunk; there was nothin' to git drunk with. But afther a while
+I ran across anither, wit' jest as red hair as I had. He was a foine
+man, av coorse, an' all surrounded by blue guards. He took me into a
+room himself an' begin askin' questions.
+
+"An' I lied, sor. Av coorse, 'twas lucky thot Oi had me Scotch larnin'
+an' caution to guide me; but whin Oi spoke, Oi wisely let th' Irishman
+do all th' talkin'. An' th' great Bar liked me.
+
+"'Verily,' says he, most solemnly, 'thou art of th' royal Bars!' An' he
+made me a high officer, he did."
+
+"Was he the Bar Senestro?" asked Watson.
+
+"Nay; 'twas a far better man--Senestro's brother, that died not long
+after. When Oi saw th' Senestro, Oi had sinse enough to kape me mouth
+shut. An' now Oi'm a high Bar--next to th' Senestro hisself! What's
+more, sor, there's no one alive kens th' truth but yerself an' th' ould
+doctor."
+
+It was a queer story, but in the light of all that had gone before,
+wonderfully convincing. Watson began to see light breaking through the
+darkness. "Now there are two," the old lady at 288 Chatterton Place
+had said to Jerome, when the detective came looking for the vanished
+professor. Had she referred to Holcomb and MacPherson? Two had gone
+through the Blind Spot, and two had come out--the Rhamda Avec and the
+Nervina. "Now there are two," she had said.
+
+"Tell me a little more about Holcomb, Pat!"
+
+"'Tis a short story. Oi can't tell ye much, owin' to orders from the
+old gent hisself. He came shortly after th' death of the first Bar,
+Senestro's brother. Seems there was some rumpus aboot th' old Rhamda
+Avec, which same Oi always kept away from--him as was goin' to prove th'
+spirits! Annyhow, we was guardin' th' temple awaitin' th' spook as was
+promised. An' thot's how we got th' ould doc.
+
+"But th' Rhamdas niver saw him. Th' Senestro double-crossed 'em, an'
+slipped th' doctor oop to th' Palace av Light."
+
+"The Palace of--what?"
+
+"The Palace av light, sor. Tis th' home av th' Jarados. 'twas held
+always holy by th' Thomahlians; no man dared go within miles av it;
+since the Jarados was here, t'ousands of years ago, no one at all has
+been inside av it.
+
+"But the Senestro knew that th' doctor was th' real Jarados, at least he
+t'ought so; an' he wasna afraid o' him. He's na coward, th' Senestro.
+He put th' doctor in th' Jarados' home! Only th' Prophecy worries him at
+all."
+
+At last Watson was touching firm ground. Things were beginning to link
+up--the Senestro, the professor, the Prophecy of the Jarados.
+
+"Well, sor, we Bars have kept th' ould doctor prisoner there iver since
+he come, wit' none save me to give him a wee bit word av comfort. But it
+dinna hurt th' old gent. Whin he finds all them balls an' rainbows an'
+eddicated secrets, he forgets iverything else; he's contint wit 'his
+discovery. 'Tis th' wise head th' doctor has; an' Oi make no doobt he's
+th' real Jarados."
+
+The red-haired man went on to say that the professor knew of Chick's
+coming from the beginning. He immediately called in MacPherson and gave
+him some orders, or rather directions, which the Irishman could not
+understand. He knew only that he was to go to the Temple of the Leaf and
+there touch certain objects in a certain way; also, he was to arrange to
+get near Chick, and give him a word of cheer.
+
+"But it dinna work as he said it, sor; he had expected to catch th'
+Senestro. Instead, 'twas th' dog got th' Bar. A foine pup, sor; she
+saved yer loife."
+
+"Where's the dog now?"
+
+"She's on th' Spot av Life, sor. She willna leave it. Tis a strange
+thing to see how she clings to it. Th' Rhamdas only come near enough to
+feed her."
+
+Thus Chick learned that, as soon as he got well, he and MacPherson were
+to seek the doctor, and help him to get away with the secrets he had
+found, the truths behind the mystery of the Spot.
+
+"An' 'tis a glorious fight there'll be, lad. Th' Senestro's a game wan;
+he'll not give up, an' he'll not let go th' doctor till he has to."
+
+This was not unwelcome news to Chick. A battle was to his liking.
+It reminded him of the automatic pistol which he still had in his
+pocket--the gun he had not thought to use in his desperate struggle with
+the Bar Senestro.
+
+"Pat," said he, with a sudden inspriation, "when you came through, did
+you have a firearm?"
+
+MacPherson reached into his pocket and silently produced a thirty-two
+calibre pistol, of another make than Chick's but using the same
+ammunition. From another pocket he drew out a package carefully bound
+with thread. He unrolled the contents. It was an old clay pipe!
+
+"Oi came through," he stated plaintively, "wit' two guns; an' nary a bit
+av powder for ayther!"
+
+Chick smiled. He searched his own pockets. First he handed over his
+extra magazine full of cartridges, and then a full package of smoking
+tobacco.
+
+"Wirra, wirra!" shouted MacPherson. "Faith, an' there's powder for
+both!" His hands shook as he hurried to cram the old pipe full of
+tobacco. The cartridges could wait. He struck a light and gave a deep
+sigh of content as he began to puff.
+
+
+
+
+XLIII
+
+THE HOME OF THE JARADOS
+
+
+Chick had been grievously hurt in the contest with the Senestro, but
+thanks to the Rhamdas he came round rapidly. It was a matter of less
+than a week.
+
+Things were coming to a climax; Chick needed no lynx's eye to see
+that the die had been cast between the Bars and the Rhamdas. Soon the
+Senestro must make a bold move, or else release the professor.
+
+Chick had not long to wait. It came one evening. Once again he found
+himself in the June Bug, accompanied by the Geos, the Jan Lucar,
+and--the little Aradna herself. Their departure was swift and secret.
+
+This time Watson was not worried over height, or any other sensation of
+flight. The doctor's safety alone was of moment. He said to the Rhamda:
+
+"Are we alone? Where is the Bar MacPherson?"
+
+"He is somewhere near; we are not alone, my lord. Several other machines
+are flying nearby also; they carry many of the Rhamdas and the crimson
+guard of the queen. The MacPherson will arrive first. We are going
+straight to the Palace of Light, my lord."
+
+"Are we to storm the place?" thinking of the fight MacPherson had
+predicted.
+
+"Yes, my lord. Many shall die; but it cannot be helped. We must free the
+Jarados, although we commit sacrilege."
+
+"But--the Senestro?"
+
+"That depends, my lord. We know not just what may be done." He gave no
+explanation.
+
+They had climbed to a tremendous height. The indicator showed that they
+were bearing east. The darkness was modified only by the faint glow from
+that star-dusted sky. Looking down, Chick could see nothing whatever.
+His companions kept silence; only the Aradna, sitting forward by the
+side of Jan Lucar showed any perturbation. They climbed higher and
+higher still, until it seemed that they must leave the Thomahlia
+altogether. Always the course was eastward. At last the Jan said to the
+Geos:
+
+"We are now over the Region of Carbon, sir. Shall I risk the light? His
+lordship might like to see."
+
+"Follow your own judgment."
+
+"Oh," exclaimed the Aradna; "do it by all means! There is nothing so
+wonderful as that!"
+
+The Jan touched a small lever. Instantly a shaft of light cut down
+through the blackness. Far, far below it ended in a patch on the ground.
+Watson eagerly followed its movements as it searched from side to side,
+seeking he knew not what. And then--
+
+There was a flash of inverted lightning, a flame of white fire, a
+blinding, stabbing scintillation of a million coruscations. Watson
+clapped a hand to his eyes, to cut off the sight. It was stunning.
+
+"What is it?" he cried.
+
+"Carbon," answered the Geos, calmly.
+
+"Carbon! You mean--diamond?"
+
+"Yes, my lord. So it interests you? I did not know. Later you shall see
+it under more favourable conditions." Then, to the Jan: "Enough."
+
+Once again they were in darkness. For some minutes silence was again the
+rule. Watson watched the red dot moving across the indicator, noting its
+approach to a three cornered figure on one edge. Suddenly there appeared
+another dot; then another, and another. Some came from below, others
+from above; presently there were a score moving in close formation.
+
+"They are all here," said the Jan to the Geos.
+
+The other nodded, and explained to Chick: "It's the Rhamdas and the
+Crimson guards. The MacPherson is just ahead. We shall arrive in three
+minutes."
+
+And after a pause he stated that the ensuing combat would mark the
+first spilling of blood between the Bars and the Rhamdas. At a pinch the
+Senestro might even kill the Jarados, to gain his ends. "His wish is his
+only law, my lord."
+
+The red dots began to descend toward the three-cornered figure. One
+minute passed, and another; then one more, and the June Bug landed.
+
+With scarcely a sound the Lucar brought the craft to a full stop. In a
+moment he was assisting the Aradna to alight. As for the Geos, he took
+from the machine two objects, which he held out to the Aradna and to
+Chick.
+
+"Put these on. The rest of us fight as we are."
+
+They were cloaks, made of a soft, light, malleable glass, or something
+like it. Watson asked what they were for.
+
+"For a purpose known only to the Jarados, my lord. There are only two of
+these robes. With them he left directions which indicated plainly they
+are for your lordship and the Aradna."
+
+Wondering, Chick helped the Aradna don her garment and then slipped
+into his own. Nevertheless, he pinned more faith in the automatic in his
+pocket. He did not make use of the hood which was intended to cover his
+head.
+
+"Pardon me," spoke the queen. She reached over and extended the hood
+till it protected his skull. "Please wear it that way, for my sake.
+Nothing must happen to you now!"
+
+Chick obeyed with only an inward demur. What puzzled him most was the
+isolation. Seemingly they were quite alone; there was nothing, no one,
+to oppose them.
+
+But he had merely taken something for granted. He, being from the earth,
+had assumed that strife meant noise. It was only when the Aradna caught
+him by the arm, and whispered for him to listen, that he understood.
+
+It was like a breeze, that sound. To be more precise, it was like the
+heavy passage of breath, almost uninterrupted, coming from all about
+them. And presently Chick caught a queer odour.
+
+"What is it?" he breathed in the Aradna's ear.
+
+"It is death," she answered. "Cannot you hear them--the deherers?"
+
+She did not explain; but Watson knew that he was in the midst of
+a battle which was fought with noiseless and terribly efficient
+weapons--so efficient that there were no wounded to give voice to pain.
+Before he could ask a question a familiar voice sounded out of the
+darkness at his side.
+
+"Where is the Geos?"
+
+"Here, Bar MacPherson," answered the Rhamda.
+
+"Good! It is well you came, sir. We were discovered a few minutes ago;
+already we have lost many men. Just give us the lights, so that we
+can get at them! It is a waste of men, with the advantage all on their
+side."
+
+Then, lapsing into English for Chick's benefit: "'Tis welcome ye are!
+Ivery mon helps, how."
+
+"What are these sounds? You say they are fighting?"
+
+"'Tis the deherers ye hear, lad. They fight with silent guns. Don't let
+'em hit ye, or ye'll be a pink pool in the twinklin' of yer eyelid. 'Tis
+no joke.
+
+"Are they more powerful than firearms?"
+
+"I dinna say, lad. But they're th' devil's own weapon for fightin'."
+
+Chick did not answer--he had heard a low command from the Geos. Next
+instant the space before them was illuminated by clear white light, in
+the form of a circle--bright as day. In the centre shimmered an object
+like a mist of blue flame, a nimbus of dazzling, actinic lightning.
+There was no sign of man or life, no suggestion of sound--nothing but
+the nimbus, and the brilliant space about it. The whole phenomenon
+measured perhaps three hundred feet across.
+
+They were in darkness. Chick took a step forward, but he was held back
+by MacPherson.
+
+"Nay, lad; would ye be dyin' so soon? 'Tis fearful quick. See--"
+
+He did not finish. A red line of soldiers had rushed straight out of the
+blackness into the circle of light. It seemed that they were charging
+the nimbus. They were stooping now, discharging their queer weapons;
+about three hundred of them--an inspiring sight. They charged in
+determined silence.
+
+Then--Watson blinked. The line disappeared; the thing was like a
+miracle. It took time for Chick to realise that he was looking upon
+the "pink death" MacPherson had warned him against--the work of the
+deherers, whatever the word meant. For where had been a column of
+gallant guards there was now only a broad stream of pink liquid
+trickling over the ground. It was annihilation itself--too quick to
+be horrible--inexorable and instantaneous. Chick involuntarily placed
+himself in front of the Aradna.
+
+"The blue thing in the middle," observed the Irishman, coolly, "is th'
+Palace av Light; 'tis held by th' Senestro jest now. An' all we got to
+do is get th' ould doc out."
+
+"But I see no building!"
+
+"'Tis there jest the same. Ye'll see it whin th' doctor gits time off
+his rainbows. 'Tis absent-minded he gets when he's on a problem, which
+same is mostly always, sor. We stay roight here till he gets ready to
+drop on th' Senestro."
+
+Watson waited. He knew enough now to cling to the shadow, there with
+MacPherson, the Geos, and the Aradna. In the centre of the great
+light-circle the nimbus of blue stood out like a vibrating haze, while
+all about, in the darkness, could be heard the weird sound made by the
+passage of life.
+
+"When will the Jarados act?" inquired the Geos of the Irishman. But he
+got no reply. MacPherson spoke to Watson: "Get yer gun ready, lad; get
+yer gun ready! Look--'tis th' ould boy himself, now! I wonder what the
+Senestro thinks of that?"
+
+For the nimbus had suddenly dissolved, and in its place there appeared
+one of the quaintest, yet most beautiful buildings that Watson had ever
+seen. It was a three-cornered structure, low-set, and of unspeakably
+dazzling magnificence; a building carved and chiselled from solid
+carbon. Chick momentarily forgot the doctor.
+
+In front of it stood a line of Blue Guards, headed by the Senestro.
+Their confusion showed that something altogether unexpected had
+happened. They were ducking here and there, seemingly bewildered by the
+sudden vanishing of that protecting blue dazzle. The Senestro was trying
+to restore order; and in a moment he succeeded. He led the way toward a
+low, triangular platform, at the entrance--a single white door--to the
+palace.
+
+Pat MacPherson's automatic flashed and barked. Next instant Watson
+was in action. The Bar next to the Senestro staggered, then collapsed
+against his chieftain. Another rolled against his feet, causing him
+to stumble; an act that probably saved his life, for the platform in a
+second was covered with writhing, bleeding, dying Bars.
+
+The Senestro managed to reach the doorway. MacPherson cursed.
+
+"Come on!" he yelled to Watson. "Well git him alive!" Watson remembered
+little of that rush. There stood the great Bar at the doorway,
+surrounded by his dying and panic-stricken men. The cloak given Chick by
+the Geos impeded his progress; with a quick movement he threw it off and
+ran unprotected alongside the Irishman. The Blue guards saw them coming;
+they levelled their weapons. But before they could discharge them they
+met the same fate as had the Reds. A tremor in the air, and they were
+gone, leaving only a pink pool on the ground.
+
+Senestro alone remained untouched. He was about to open the white door;
+for a second he posed, defiant and handsome. Then the great Bar ducked
+swiftly and almost with the same motion dodged into the building. Chick
+and Pat were right after him.
+
+Inside was darkness. Chick ran head on against the side wall; turning,
+he bumped into another. The sudden transition from brilliance
+to blackness was overwhelming. He stopped and felt about
+carefully--momentarily blind. What if the Senestro found him now?
+
+He called MacPherson's name. There was no reply. He tried to feel his
+way along, finding the wall irregular, jagged, sharp cornered. But the
+way must lead somewhere. He reached a turn in the passage; it was
+still too dark for him to see anything. He proceeded more cautiously,
+wondering at those craggy walls. And then--
+
+Chick slapped his hands to his eyes. It was as if he had been shot into
+the core of the sun--the obsidian darkness flashed into light--a light
+beyond all enduring. Chick staggered, and cried in pain. And yet, reason
+told him just what it was, just what had happened. It was the carbon; he
+was in the heart of the diamond; the Senestro had led him on and on, and
+then--had flashed some intense light upon the vast jewel. Watson knew
+the terrible helplessness of the blind. His end had come!
+
+And so it seemed. Next instant someone came up to him--someone he could
+hear if he could not see. It was the Senestro.
+
+"Hail, Sir Phantom! Pardon my abrupt manner of welcome. I suppose you
+have come for the Jarados?" And he laughed, a laugh full of mockery and
+triumph. "Perhaps you think I intend to kill you?"
+
+Watson said no word. He had been outwitted. He awaited the end. But the
+Senestro saw fit to say, with an irony that told how sure he was:
+
+"However, I am opposed to killing in cold blood. Open your eyes, Sir
+Phantom! I will give you time--a fair chance. What do you say--shall we
+match weapon against weapon?"
+
+Watson slowly opened his eyes. The blinding light had dimmed to a soft
+glow. They were in a sort of gallery whose length was uncertain;
+between him and the outlet, about ten feet away, stood the confident,
+ever-smiling Bar.
+
+"You or I," said he, jauntily. "Are you ready to try it? I have given
+you a fair chance!"
+
+He raised his dagger-like weapon, as though aiming it. At the same
+instant Chick pulled the trigger from the hip, snap aim.
+
+The gun was empty.
+
+Another second, and Watson would have been like those spots of colour
+on the ground outside. He breathed a prayer to his Maker. The Senestro's
+weapon was in line with his throat.
+
+But it was not to be. There came a flash and a stunning report; the
+deherer clattered against the wall, and the Senestro clutched a stinging
+hand. He was staring in surprise at something behind Chick--something
+that made him turn and dart out of sight.
+
+Chick wheeled.
+
+Right behind him stood the familiar form of the Jan Lucar; and a few
+feet beyond, a figure from which came a clear, cool, nonchalant voice;
+
+"I would have killed that fellow, Chick, but he's too damned handsome.
+I'm going to save him for a specimen."
+
+Watson peered closer. He gave a gasp, half of amazement, half of
+delight. For the words were in English, and the voice--
+
+It was Harry Wendel.
+
+
+
+
+XLIV
+
+DR. HOLCOMB'S STORY
+
+
+If there was the least doubt in Chick's mind that this was really Harry,
+it was dispelled by the sight of the person who the next moment stepped
+up to his side. It was none other than the Nervina.
+
+"Harry Wendel!" gasped Watson. It was too good to be true!
+
+"Surest thing you know, Chick. It's me, alive and kicking!" as they
+grabbed one another.
+
+"How did you get here?"
+
+"Search me! Ask the lady; I'm just a creature of circumstance. I merely
+act; she does all the thinking."
+
+The Nervina smiled and nodded. Her eyes were just as wonderful as
+Chick remembered them, full of elusiveness, of the moonbeam's light, of
+witchery past understanding.
+
+"Yes," she affirmed. "You see, Mr. Watson, it is the will of the
+Prophet. Harry is of the Chosen. We have come for the great Dr.
+Holcomb--for the Jarados!"
+
+And she led the way. Watson followed in silent wonder; behind him came
+the Geos and the rest, quiet and reverent. The soft glow still held, so
+that they seemed to be walking through the walls of cold fire. At the
+end of the passage they came to a door.
+
+The Nervina touched three unmarked spots on the walls. The door opened.
+The queen stood aside, and motioned for Chick and Harry to enter.
+
+It was a long room, pear-shaped, and fitted up like the most elaborate
+sort of laboratory. And at the far end, seated in the midst of a strange
+array of crystals, retorts and unfamiliar apparatus, was a man whom the
+two instantly recognised.
+
+It was the missing professor, looking just as they remembered him from
+the days when they sat in his class in Berkeley. There was the same trim
+figure, the same healthy cheeks, pleasant eyes and close-cropped
+white beard. Always there had been something imperturbable about the
+doctor--he had that poise and equanimity which is ever the balance of
+sound judgment. Neither Chick nor Harry expected any rush of emotion,
+and they were not disappointed.
+
+Holcomb rose to his feet, revealing on the table before him a queer,
+dancing light which he had been studying. He touched something; the
+light vanished, and simultaneously there came an unnameable change in
+the appearance of certain of those puzzling crystals. The doctor stepped
+forward, hand extended, smiling; surely he did not look or act like a
+prisoner.
+
+"Well, well," spoke he; "at last! Chick Watson and Harry Wendel! You're
+very welcome. Was it a long journey?"
+
+His eyes twinkled in the old way. He didn't wait for their replies. He
+went on:
+
+"Have we solved the Blind Spot? It seems that my pupils never desert me.
+Let me ask: have you solved the Blind Spot?"
+
+"We've solved nothing, professor. What we have come for is, first,
+yourself; and second, for the secrets you have found. It is for us to
+ask--what is the Blind Spot?"
+
+The professor shook his head.
+
+"You were always a poor guesser, Mr. Wendel. Perhaps Chick, now--"
+
+"Put me down as unprepared," answered Chick. "I'm like Harry--I want to
+know!"
+
+"Perhaps there are a lot of us in the same fix," laughed Holcomb. "We,
+who know more than any men who ever lived, want to know still more! It
+may be, after all, that we know very little; even though we have solved
+the problem." His eyes twinkled again, aggravatingly.
+
+"Tell us, then!" from Harry, on impulse as always. "What is the Blind
+Spot?"
+
+But Holcomb shook his head. "Not just now, Harry; we have company."
+The Geos and the Jan had entered. "Besides, I am not quite ready. There
+remain several tangles to be unravelled."
+
+As he shook hands with the Geos, he spoke in the Thomahlian tongue. "You
+are more than welcome."
+
+The Rhamda bent low in reverence and awe. His voice was hushed. He
+spoke:
+
+"Art thou the Jarados, my lord?"
+
+"Aye," stated the doctor. "I am he; I am the Jarados!"
+
+It was a stagger for both young men. Neither could reconcile the great
+professor of his schooldays with this strange, philosophic prophet of
+the occult Thomahlians. What was the connection? What was the fate that
+was leading, urging, compelling it all?
+
+"Professor, you will pardon our eagerness. Both Harry and I have had
+adventures, without understanding what it was all about. Can't you
+explain? Where are we? And--why?" And then:
+
+"Your lecture on the Blind Spot! You promised it to us--can you deliver
+it now?"
+
+The professor smiled his acknowledgement.
+
+"Part of it," he said; "enough to answer your questions to some extent.
+Had I stayed in Berkeley I could have delivered it all, but"--and he
+laughed--"I know a whole lot more, now; and, paradoxically, I know far
+less! First let me speak to the Geos." He learned that the struggle
+outside had terminated successfully for the Rhamda and his men. All was
+quiet. The Senestro had made his escape in safety back to the Mahovisal.
+The doctor ordered that he was not to be molested.
+
+The Geos and the others left the room, escorting the Aradna, who was
+too exhausted for further experiences. There remained with the doctor,
+Chick, Harry, and the Nervina.
+
+"I will reduce that lecture to synopsis form," began the professor. "I
+shall tell you all that I know, up to this moment. First, however, let
+me show you something."
+
+He indicated the table from which he had risen. Chief among the objects
+on its top were fragments of minerals, some familiar, some strange.
+Above and on all sides were the crystal globes or, at least, what Chick
+named as such--erected upon as many tripods. One of these the professor
+moved toward the table.
+
+Simultaneously a tiny dot appeared on a small metal plate in the centre
+of the table. At first almost invisible, it grew, after a minute or so,
+to a definite bit of matter.
+
+The professor moved the tripod away. Nearby crystals, inside of
+which some dull lights had leaped into momentary being, subsided into
+quiescence. And the three observers looked again and again at the solid
+fragment of material that had grown before their eyes on that table.
+
+Something had been made out of nothing!
+
+The doctor picked it up and held it unconcernedly in his fingers.
+
+"Can anybody tell me," asked he, "what this is?"
+
+There was no answer. The professor tossed the thing back on the table.
+It gave forth a sharp, metallic sound.
+
+"You are looking at ether," spoke he. "It is the ether itself--nothing
+else. You call it matter; others would call it iron; but those are
+merely names. I call it ether in motion--materialised force-coherent
+vibration.
+
+"Like everything else in the universe it answers to a law. It has its
+reason--there is no such thing as chance. Do you follow? That fragment
+is simply a principle, allowed to manifest itself through a natural law!
+
+"Try to follow me. All is out of the ether--all! Variety in matter is
+simply a question of varying degrees of electronic activity, depending
+upon a number of ratios. Life itself, as well as materiality and force,
+comes out of the all-pervading ether.
+
+"This object here," touching the crystal, "is merely a conductor. It
+picks up the ether and sends it through a set degree of vibrational
+activity. Result? It makes iron!
+
+"If you wish you may go back to our twentieth century for a parallel--by
+which I mean, electricity. It is gathered crudely; but the time will
+come when it will be picked up out of the air in precisely the same
+manner that men pick hydrocarbons out of petroleum, or as I sift the
+desired quality of ether through that globe.
+
+"This, I am convinced, is one of the fundamental secrets of the Blind
+Spot. Is there any question?"
+
+Wendel managed to put one.
+
+"You said, 'back in the twentieth century.' Is it a question of time
+displacement, sir?"
+
+"Suppose we forgo that point at present. You will note, however, that
+the Thomahlian world is certainly far in advance of our own."
+
+"Professor," asked Watson, "is it the occult?"
+
+"Ah," brightening; "now we are getting back to the old point. However,
+what is the occult?" He paused; then--"Did it ever occur to you, that
+the occult might prove to be the real world, proving that life we have
+known to be merely a shadow?"
+
+Silence greeted this. The professor went on:
+
+"Let me ask you: Are you living in a real world now, or an unreal one?"
+There was no response. "It is, of course, a reality; just as truly as if
+you were in San Francisco. So," very distinctly, "perhaps it is merely a
+question of viewpoint, as to which is the occult!"
+
+"Just what we want to know," from Harry.
+
+"And that," tossing up his hands, "is exactly what I cannot tell you.
+I have found out many things, but I cannot be sure. I left certainty in
+Berkeley.
+
+"Today I feel that there is some great fate, some unknown force that
+defies analysis, defies all attempts at resolution--a force that is
+driving me through the role of the Jarados. We are all a part of the
+Prophecy!
+
+"We must wait for the last day for our answer. That Prophecy must and
+will be fulfilled. And on that day we shall have the key to the Blind
+Spot--we shall know the where of the occult."
+
+He took a sip from a tumbler of the familiar green fluid.
+
+"Now that I have told you this much, I am going back to the beginning.
+I, too, have had adventures.
+
+"How did I come to discover the Blind Spot?
+
+"It was about one year prior to my last lecture at the university. At
+the time I had been doing much psychic-research work, all of which you
+know. And out of it I had adduced some peculiar theories. For example:
+
+"Undoubtedly there is such a thing as a spirit world. If all the mediums
+but one were dishonest, and that one produced the results that couldn't
+be explained away by psychology, then we must admit the existence of
+another world.
+
+"But reason tells us that there is nothing but reality; that if there
+were a spirit world it must be just as real, just as substantial as
+our own. Moreover--somewhere, somehow, here must be a definite point of
+contact!
+
+"That was approximately my theory. Of course I had no idea how close I
+had come to a great truth. To some extent it was pure guesswork.
+
+"Then, one day Budge Kennedy brought me the blue stone. He told me its
+history, and he maintained that it was lighter than air, which of course
+I disbelieved until I took it out of the ring and saw for myself.
+
+"I went at once to the house at 288 Chatterton Place. There I found an
+old lady who had lived in the house for some time. I asked to see the
+cellar where the stone had been unearthed. Understand, I had no idea of
+the great discovery I was about to make; I merely wanted to see. And I
+found something almost as impossible as the blue stone itself-a
+green one, heavier than any known mineral, answering to no known
+classification but of an entirely new element. It was no larger than a
+pea, but of incredible weight.
+
+"Coming upstairs I found the old lady a bit perturbed. I had told her my
+name; she had recognised me as well.
+
+"'Come with me,' she said.
+
+"With that she opened a door. She was very old and very uncertain; yet
+she was scarcely afraid.
+
+"'In there," she said, and pointed through the door.
+
+"I entered an ordinary room, furnished as a parlour. There was a sofa, a
+table, a few chairs; little else.
+
+"'What do you mean?' I asked.
+
+"'The man!'
+
+"'The man! What man?"
+
+"'Oh!' she exclaimed, 'he came here one night when the moon was shining.
+He sat down on the doorstep. He was just the kind of a lad that's in
+need of a mother. So I asked him to lie on the sofa. He was tired, you
+see, and--I once had a son of my own.'
+
+"She stopped, and it was a moment before she continued. I could feel the
+pressure of her hand on my arm, pitiful, beseeching.
+
+"'So I took him in there. In there; see? On that sofa. I saw it! They
+took him! Oh, sir; it was terrible!'
+
+"She was weird, uncanny, strangely interesting.
+
+"'He just lay down there. I was standing by the door when--they took
+him! I couldn't understand, sir. I saw the blue light; and the moon--it
+was gone. And then--' She looked up at me again and whispered: 'And then
+I heard a bell--a very beautiful bell--a church bell, sir? But you know,
+don't you? You are the great Dr. Holcomb. That's why you went into the
+cellar, wasn't it? Because you know!'
+
+"Her manner as much as her story, impressed me. I said:
+
+"'I must give this room a careful examination. Would you be good enough
+to leave me to myself?'
+
+"She closed the door after her. I had the green stone in my hand; it was
+very heavy, and I placed it on one of the chairs. The blue stone I
+still held. At the moment I hadn't the least notion of what was about to
+happen; it was all accident, from beginning to end.
+
+"All of a sudden the room disappeared! That is, the side wall; I was not
+looking at the dingy old wallpaper, but out through and into an immense
+building, dim, vast and immeasurable.
+
+"Directly in front of me was a white substance like a stone of snow.
+Upon this substance was seated a man, about my own age, as nearly as I
+could make out. He looked up just as I noted him.
+
+"Our recognition was mutual. Immediately he made a sign with one hand.
+And at once I took a step forward; I thought he had motioned. It was all
+so real and natural. Though his features were dim he could not have been
+more than ten feet distant. But, at that very instant, when I made that
+one step, the whole thing vanished.
+
+"I was still in the room at Chatterton Place!
+
+"That's what started it all. Had this occurred to any one else in the
+world I should have labelled it an unaccountable illusion. But it had
+happened to me.
+
+"I had my theory; between the spiritual and the material there must be a
+point of contact. And--I had found it! I had discovered the road to
+the Indies, to the Occult, to all that other men call unknowable. And I
+called it--
+
+"The Blind Spot."
+
+
+
+
+XLV
+
+THE ARADNA
+
+
+Thus had the professor got into actual touch with the occult--by sheer
+accident. Up to that time it had been only a hypothesis; now it was a
+fact. Next step was to open up direct communication.
+
+"That was difficult. To begin with, I worked to repeat the phenomena
+I had seen, getting some haphazard results from the start. My purpose
+throughout was to exchange intelligent comment with the individual I had
+beheld on that snow-stone within the Spot; and in the end I succeeded.
+
+"He gave me fairly explicit warning as to when the Blind Spot should
+open, not only to the eye, but in its entirety, as it had done for the
+young man of whom the old lady had told me. We agreed through signs that
+he would come through first.
+
+"Understand, up to the instant of his actual arrival, I didn't know just
+what he was like. I had to be content with his sign-talk, by which he
+assured me he was a real man, material, of life and the living.
+
+"I made my announcement. You know most of what followed. The Rhamda
+came to Berkeley; together we returned to Chatterton Place, for it
+was imperative that we hold the Spot open or at least maintain the
+phenomenon at such a point that we could reopen it at will. Both of us
+were guessing.
+
+"Neither of us knew, at the time, just how long the Rhamda could endure
+our atmosphere. He had risked his life to come through; it was no more
+than fair that I should accede to his caution and insure him a safe
+return to his own world.
+
+"But things went wrong. It was ignorance as much as accident. At
+Chatterton Place I was caught in the Blind Spot, and without a particle
+of preparation was tossed into the Thomahlia.
+
+"When I came through, the Nervina went out. Thus I found myself in this
+strange place with no one to guide me. And unfortunately, or rather,
+fortunately, I fell into the hands of the Bar Senestro.
+
+"Now, for all that he is a sceptic, the Senestro is a brave man; and
+like many another unbeliever, he has a sense of humour. My coming had
+been promised by Avec; so he knew that somehow I was a part of the
+Prophecy--the prophecy which, for reasons of his own, he did not want
+fulfilled.
+
+"So he isolated me here in the house of the Jarados. A bold sort of
+humor, I call it--to defy the Prophecy in the very spot where it was
+written!
+
+"But it was fortunate. I was in the house of the old prophet, with its
+stores of wisdom, secrets, raw elements and means for applying the laws
+of nature. All that I hitherto had only guessed at, I now had at my
+disposal: libraries, laboratories, everything. I was a recluse with no
+interruptions and perfect facility for study.
+
+"First of all I went into their philosophy. Then into their science,
+and afterwards into their history. Whereupon I made a rather startling
+discovery.
+
+"Apparently I AM THE JARADOS.
+
+"For my coming had been foretold almost to the hour. As I went on with
+the research I found many other points that seemed familiar. Plainly
+there was something that had led me into the Spot; and most certainly it
+was not mere chance. I became convinced that not merely my own destiny,
+but a higher, a transcendental fate was at stake.
+
+"In the course of time I became certain of this. Meanwhile I mastered
+most of the secrets of this palace--the wisdom of the ancient Jarados.
+Though a prisoner, I was the happiest of men--which I still remain. The
+Bars kept close watch over me, constantly changing their guard. And it
+was on one of those occasions that I found MacPherson.
+
+"Well, after MacPherson's coming I was pretty much my own master.
+I induced the Senestro to allow MacPherson to remain as a constant
+bodyguard. But I never told Pat what was what, except that some day we
+should extricate ourselves.
+
+"You may wonder why I did not open the Spot.
+
+"There were several reasons: First, in the nature of the phenomenon it
+must be opened only on the earth side, except on rare occasions when
+certain conditions are peculiarly favourable. That's why the Rhamda Avec
+could not do it alone; I know now that I should have imparted to him
+certain technicalities. I possessed two of the keys then; now, I know
+there are three.
+
+"And I have learned that each of these is a sinister thing.
+
+"The blue stone, for instance, is life, and it is male. Rather a
+sweeping and ambiguous statement; but you will comprehend it in the end.
+Were a man to wear it it would kill him, in time; but a woman can wear
+it with impunity.
+
+"Perhaps you will appreciate that statement better if you note what I
+have just done through the medium of that crystal. The blue gem is an
+inductor of the ether; in a sense, it is one of the anchors of the Spot
+of Life, or the Blind Spot--whatever we want to call it--the Spot of
+Contact.
+
+"The other two particles--the red and the green one--are respectively
+the Soul and the Material. Or, let us say, the etheric embryos of these
+essentials.
+
+"The three stones constitute an eternal trinity.
+
+"As for the substance of the Spot itself, that I cannot tell, just yet.
+But I do know that the whole truth will come out clear in the fulfilment
+of the Prophecy. I am convinced that it has translated Watson, and now
+Harry Wendel and the Nervina."
+
+"Can you control it?" asked Chick.
+
+"To a limited extent. I have been able to watch you ever since your
+coming. You did not know about Harry, but I saw him come--in the arms of
+the Nervina."
+
+The Nervina nodded.
+
+"It is so. I knew the Senestro. I was afraid that Harry would fall into
+his hands. I had previously endeavoured to have him give the jewel to
+Charlotte Fenton. I didn't trust the great Bar--"
+
+Harry interrupted, "Only because of her distrust of the Senestro did she
+decide to come through the Blind Spot with me. She knew what to do. As
+soon as we got here, she bundled me off, privately nursed me back to
+health if not strength, and when the time came rushed me up here at the
+last second to be in at the finish."
+
+Watson thought of the dog, Queen. She also had come through just in time
+to save his life. Did Harry know anything about her? When Wendel had
+related what he knew, Chick commented:
+
+"It's almighty strange, Harry. Everything works out to fit in exactly
+with that confounded Prophecy. Perhaps that accounts for your affinity
+for the Nervina; it is something beyond your control, or hers. We'll
+have to wait and see."
+
+There was not long to wait. The days passed. The palace was full of
+Rhamdas, summoned by Dr. Holcomb, who, as the Jarados himself, was now
+issuing orders concerning the great day, the last of the sixteen days,
+now very close at hand; the day which the Rhamdas constantly alluded to
+as "the Day of Judgment."
+
+The Senestro went unmolested. Returning to the Mahovisal, he worked now
+to further the truths of the Prophecy.
+
+Still the millions continued to descend upon the Mahovisal. Coming from
+the furthermost parts of the Thomahlia, the pilgrims' aircraft kept the
+air above the city constantly alive. There were days such as no man had
+ever known. Even the Rhamdas, trained to composure, gave evidence of the
+strain. The atmosphere was tense, charged with expectancy and hope. A
+whole world was coming to what it conceived as its judgment, and its
+end. And--the Spot of Life was the Blind Spot!
+
+At last the doctor summoned the two young men. It was night, and the
+June Bug was waiting. This time the Geos himself was at the controls.
+
+"We are going to the Mahovisal," spoke the doctor--"to the Temple of
+the Bell and Leaf. There is still something I must know before the
+Judgment." He was speaking English. "If we can bring the Prophecy
+to pass just so far, and no farther, we shall be able to extricate
+ourselves nicely. Anyway, I think we shall not return to the Palace of
+Light."
+
+He held a black leather case in his hand. He touched it with a finger.
+
+"If this little case and its contents get through the Blind Spot it
+will advance civilisation--our civilisation--about a thousand-fold. So
+remember: Whatever happens to me, be sure and remember this case! It
+must go through the Spot!"
+
+He said no more, but took his seat beside the Geos. The young men took
+the rear seats. In a short time they had crossed the great range of
+mountains and were hovering over the Mahovisal.
+
+There was no sound. Though the city was packed with untold millions, the
+tension was such that scarcely a murmur came out of the metropolis. The
+air was magnetic, charged, strained close to the breaking point; above
+all, the reverence for the Last Day, and the hope, rising, accumulating,
+to the final supreme moment.
+
+For the Sixteenth Day was now only forty-eight hours removed.
+
+Both Chick and Harry realised that their lives were at stake; the doctor
+had made that clear. In the last minute, in the final crisis, they must
+crowd their way through the Blind Spot. Only the professor knew how it
+was to be done.
+
+At the temple they found the Nervina and the Aradna waiting. The Jan
+Lucar was with them. The Geos had secured entrance by a side door. From
+it they could look out, themselves unobserved, over the entire building
+and upon the Spot of Life. The place was packed--thousands upon
+thousands of people, standing in silent awe and worship, one and all
+gazing toward the all-important Spot. There was no sound save the
+whisper of multitudinous breathing.
+
+Said Harry to Chick:
+
+"I see Queen up there!"
+
+Harry circled the group, and bounded up the great stairs. In a moment
+he was patting his dog's head. She looked up and wagged her tail to show
+her pleasure. But she was not effusive. Somehow she wasn't just like his
+old shepherd. She glanced at him, and then out at the concourse below,
+and lolled her tongue expectantly. Then she settled back into her place
+and resumed watch--exactly as any of her kind would have held guard over
+a band of sheep.
+
+The dog was serious. Afterward, Wendel said he had a dim notion that she
+was no longer a dog at all, but a mere instrument in the hand of Fate.
+
+"What's the matter, old girl?" he asked. "Don't you like 'em?"
+
+For answer she gave a low whine. She looked up again, and out into the
+throng; she repeated the whine, with a little whimper at the end.
+
+Harry returned to the others. Nothing was said of what he had done. At
+once the Geos led the group through a small, half-hidden door, beyond
+which was a narrow, winding stairway of chocolate-coloured stone. The
+Geos halted.
+
+"Dost wish the building emptied, O Jarados?"
+
+"I do. When we come back from under the Spot of Life, we should have the
+place to ourselves."
+
+Accompanied by the two queens the Rhamda returned to the main body of
+the temple. Dr. Holcomb, Harry and Chick were left to themselves.
+
+The professor took out a notebook. In it was traced a map, or chart,
+together with several notations.
+
+"The three of us," said he, "are going to take a look at the under side
+of the Blind Spot. This stairway leads into a secret chamber inside the
+foundations of the great stair; and according to this data I found in
+the palace, together with some calculations of my own, we ought to find
+some of the secrets of the Spot."
+
+He led the way up the steps. At the top of the flight they came to a
+blank, blue wall. There was no sign of a door, but in the front of the
+wall stood a low platform, in the centre of which was set a strange, red
+stone. The professor consulted his chart, then opened his black case.
+From it he took another stone, red like the other, but not so intense.
+This he touched to the first, and waited.
+
+Inside a minute a light sprang up from the contact. Immediately Harry
+and Chick beheld something they had not seen on the wall--a knob, or
+button. The doctor pulled sharply on it. Instantly a door opened in the
+wall.
+
+They passed into another room. It was not a large place--about thirty
+feet across, perhaps, stone-walled and with a low ceiling. From all
+sides a soft, intrinsic glow was given off. There were no furnishings.
+
+But in the centre of the ceiling, occupying almost all the space
+overhead, a snow-white substance hung as if suspended. Were it not
+for its colour and its size, it might have been likened to an immense,
+horizontal grindstone hung in mid-air, with apparently nothing to hold
+it there. Around its side they could make out a narrow gap between
+it and the ceiling. And directly along its lower edge was a series of
+small, fiery jewels inset, and of the order and colour of the sign of
+the Jarados--red, blue and green, alternating.
+
+The professor produced an electric torch and held it up to show that the
+gap between the stone and the ceiling was unbroken at any point. Then he
+counted the jewels on the lower edge. Chick made out twenty-four. Three
+were missing from their sockets--all told, then, there should have been
+twenty-seven.
+
+The doctor noted the positions of the three empty sockets and, drawing
+a tapeline from his pocket, proceeded to measure the distances from each
+of the three--they were widely separated round the circle--from each
+other. Then he turned to Chick and Harry.
+
+"Do you know where we are?"
+
+"Under the Spot of Life," it was easy to answer.
+
+"You are in San Francisco!"
+
+"Not in--in--" Chick hesitated.
+
+"Yes. Exactly. This is 288 Chatterton Place--the house of the Blind
+Spot." He paused for them to digest this. Then, "Harry--did you say
+Hobart Fenton was with you on that last night?"
+
+"Hobart and his sister, Charlotte. I remember their coming at the last
+minute. They were too late, sir."
+
+The professor nodded.
+
+"Well, Harry, the chances are that Hobart is not more than twenty
+feet away at the present moment. Charlotte may be sitting right
+there"--pointing to a spot at Harry's side--"this very instant. And
+there may be many others.
+
+"No doubt they are working hard to solve the mystery. Unfortunately the
+best they can do is to guess. We hold the key. That is--I should correct
+that statement--we hold the knowledge, and they hold the keys."
+
+"The keys?" Harry wanted to know more.
+
+The professor pointed to the three empty sockets in the great white
+stone above their heads. "These three missing stones are the keys.
+Until they are reset we cannot control the Spot. I had found two of
+them before I came through. I take it that both of you remember the blue
+one?"
+
+"I think," agreed Chick, "that neither of us is ever likely to forget
+it! Eh, Harry?"
+
+The professor smiled. He was holding the light up to the snow-stone,
+at a spot that would have been the point of intersection had lines been
+drawn from the three missing gems, and the resulting triangle centred.
+He held his hand up to the substance. It was slightly rough at that
+point, as though it had been frozen.
+
+Then he ran his fingers across the surrounding surface.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed. "I thought so! That helps considerably. Chick--put
+your hand up here. What do you feel?"
+
+"Rough," said Chick, feeling the intersection point. "Slightly so, but
+cold and--and magnetic."
+
+"Now feel here."
+
+"Cool and magnetic, doctor; but smooth. What does it prove?"
+
+"Let's see; do you understand the term 'electrolysis'? Good. Well,
+there should be another clue--not similar, but supplementary, or rather,
+complementary--on the earth side. Perhaps one of you found it while you
+lived in that house." The professor eyed both men anxiously. "Did either
+of you find a stain, or anything of that sort, on the walls, ceiling, or
+floor of any room there?"
+
+Both shook their heads.
+
+"Well, there ought to be," frowned the doctor. "I am positive that,
+should we return now, we could locate some such phenomenon. From this
+side it is very easy to account for; it's simply the disintegrating
+effect of the current, constantly impinging at the point of contact or
+the intersection. Having acted on this side, it must have left some mark
+on the other."
+
+Watson was still running his hand over the snow-stone. Once before, when
+he had stood barefooted in the contest with the Senestro, he had noted
+its cold magnetism.
+
+"What is this substance, professor?"
+
+"That, I have not been able to discover. I would call it neutral
+element, for want of a more exact term; something that touches both
+aspects of the spectrum."
+
+"Both aspects of the spectrum?"
+
+"Yes; as nearly as the limitations of my vocabulary will permit. If you
+recall, I showed you a simple experiment the other day in the palace.
+By means of an inductor I drew out the iron principle from the ether and
+built up the metal. Only it was not precisely iron but its Thomahlian
+equivalent. Had you been on the earth side you would have seen nothing
+at all, not even myself. I was on the wrong aspect of the spectrum.
+
+"Also, you see here the Jaradic colours--the crimson, green and
+blue--the shades between, the iridescence and the shadows. Had you
+been on the other side you wouldn't have seen one of them; they are not
+precisely our own colours, but their equivalents on this side of the
+Spot.
+
+"In the final analysis, as I said before, it gets down to ether, to
+speed and vibration--and still at last to the perceptive limitations of
+our own earthly five senses. Just stop and consider how limited we are!
+Only five senses--why, even insects have six. Then consider that all
+matter, when we get to the bottom of it, is differentiated and condensed
+ether, focused into various mathematical arrangements, as numberless as
+the particles of the universe. Of these our five senses pick out a very
+small proportion indeed.
+
+"This is one way to account for the Blind Spot. It may be merely
+another phase of the spectrum--not simply the unexplored regions of the
+infra-red or the ultra-violet, but a region co-existent with what we
+normally apprehend, and making itself manifest through apertures in what
+we, with our extremely limited sense-grasp, think to be a continuous
+spectrum. I throw out the idea mainly as a suggestion. It is not
+necessarily the true explanation.
+
+"Let us go a bit farther. Remember, we are still upon the earth. And
+that we are still in San Francisco, although all the while we are also
+in the Mahovisal. This is 288 Chatterton Place, and at the same time
+it is the Temple of the Bell. It might be a hundred or a thousand other
+places just as well, too, if my hypothesis is correct; which we shall
+see.
+
+"Now, what does this mean? Simply this, gentlemen, that we five-sensed
+people have failed to grasp the true meaning of the word 'Infinity.' We
+look out toward the stars, fancying that only in unlimited space can we
+find the infinite. We little suspect we ourselves are infinity! It is
+only our five senses that make us finite.
+
+"As soon as we grasp this the so-called spiritual realm becomes a very
+substantial fact. We begin to apprehend the occult. Our five-sensed
+world is merely a highly specialized phase of infinity. Material or
+spiritual--it is all the same. That's why we look on the Thomahlians as
+occult, and why they consider us in the same light.
+
+"It is strictly a question of sense perception and limitations, which
+can be covered by the word, 'viewpoint.' Viewpoint--that is all it
+amounts to.
+
+"There is no such thing as unreality; but there is most certainly such a
+thing as relativity, and all life is real.
+
+"Of course I knew nothing of this until the discovery of the Blind Spot.
+It will, I think, prove to be one of the greatest events in history. It
+will silence the sceptics, and form a bulwark for all religion. And it
+will make us all appreciate our Creator the more."
+
+The professor stopped. For some moments there was silence.
+
+"What are we to do now?" asked Harry.
+
+But the professor chose not to answer. With his tape he began taking a
+fresh series of measurements, with reference to the empty sockets and
+one particularly brilliant red gem, which seemed to be "number one" in
+the circle. From time to time the doctor jotted down the results and
+made short calculations. Presently he said: "That ought to be enough.
+Now suppose we--"
+
+At that instant something happened. Harry Wendel caught him by the
+shoulder. He pointed to the suspended stone.
+
+It was moving!
+
+It was revolving, almost imperceptibly, like some vast wheel turning
+on its axis. So slowly did it rotate, the motion would have escaped
+attention were it not for the gems and their brilliance.
+
+Suddenly it came to a stop, short and quick, as though it had dropped
+into a notch. And from above they heard the deep, solemn clang of the
+temple bell.
+
+"What is that?" asked Harry, startled. "Who moved the stone?"
+
+"Can it be," flashed Chick, "that Hobart Fenton has found the keys?"
+
+"That remains to be seen!" from the doctor. "Come--we must find out what
+has happened!"
+
+Within a minute they knew. As they came out of the private door on the
+now emptied floor of the great temple, they saw the senior queen, the
+Nervina, coming down the great stairway from the Spot of Life.
+
+"What is it?" called Harry, apprehensively.
+
+"The Aradna!" she replied. Her voice was curiously strained. "Something
+happened, and--she has fallen through the Spot!"
+
+
+
+
+XLVI
+
+OUT OF THE OCCULT
+
+
+"HOW DID IT HAPPEN?"
+
+"I scarcely know. We went up to play with the dog. It was unwilling to
+leave the place, and Aradna teasingly tried to push her off on to the
+steps. She succeeded, but--well, it was all over that quick. The Aradna
+was gone!"
+
+But the Spot had by this time lost a good deal of its terror. Knowing
+what was on the other side, and who, made a great difference. As the
+doctor said later in a private consultation with Chick and Harry:
+
+"It's not so bad. That is, if Hobart Fenton is at work there. I think
+he is. Really, I only regret that we didn't know of this beforehand; we
+could have sent a message through to him."
+
+And the professor went on to explain what he meant. At the time he
+spoke, it was twenty-four hours after the Aradna's going; another
+twenty-four hours would see the evening of the Last Day--the sixteenth
+of the sacred Days of Life--what the Rhamdas alluded to as "the Day of
+Judgment." And the Mahovisal was a seething mass of humanity, all bent
+upon seeing the fulfillment of their highest hopes.
+
+"Bear in mind that if the Spot should not open at the last moment, you
+and I are done for. We will be self-condemned 'False Ones'; our lives
+will not last one minute after midnight tomorrow night if we fail to get
+through!
+
+"That Prophecy means EVERYTHING to the Thomahlians. There was a time
+when they accepted it on faith; now it is an intellectual conviction
+with every last one of them. And one and all look forward to a new and
+glorious life beyond the Spot--in the occult world--our world!
+
+"Now, the ticklish part of the job will be to open the Spot just long
+enough to permit us to get through, yet prevent the whole Prophecy from
+coming to pass. We've got to get through, together with that black case
+of mine, and then shut the door in the face of all Thomahlia!"
+
+Nothing more was said on the subject until late the following afternoon,
+as the doctor, Harry, and Chick sat down to a light meal. They ate much
+as if nothing whatever was in the wind. From where they sat, in one part
+of a wing of the temple, they could look out into the crowded streets,
+in which were packed untold numbers of pilgrims, all pressing towards
+the great square plaza in front of the temple. No guards were to be
+seen; the solemnity of the occasion was sufficient to keep order. But
+the terrific potentiality of that semi-fanatical host did not cause the
+doctor's voice to change one iota.
+
+"There is no telling what may happen," he said. "For my own part I shall
+not venture near the Spot of Life until just at the end. I shall remain
+in the chamber underneath.
+
+"But you two ought to show yourselves immediately after sundown. Certain
+ancient writings indicate it. You, and the Nervina, will have to mount
+the stair to the Spot, and remain in sight until midnight--until the
+end.
+
+"So we must be prepared for accidents." He took some papers from his
+pocket, and selected two, and gave one to each of his pupils. "Here are
+the details of what must be done. In case only one of us gets through,
+it will be enough."
+
+"But--how can these be of any use, on such short notice?" Harry asked.
+
+"Cudgel your brains a bit, gentlemen," he chided good-humouredly. "You
+will soon see my drift. This is one of those occasions when the psychic
+elements involved are such that, without doubt, it were best if you
+reacted naturally to whatever may happen.
+
+"Now you will note that I have made a drawing of the Blind Spot region;
+also certain calculations which will explain themselves.
+
+"Moreover, I have written out the combination to my laboratory safe in
+my house in Berkeley. The green stone is there. Bertha will help, as
+soon as she understands that it is my wish; no explanation will be
+needed.
+
+"You may leave the rest to me, young gentlemen. Act as through you
+had no notion that I was down below the Spot. I shall be merely
+experimenting a bit with that circle of jewels, to see if the phenomena
+which affected the Aradna cannot be repeated. I fancy it was not mere
+accident, but rather the working of a 'period.'"
+
+He said no more about this, except to comment that he hoped to get into
+direct communication with Hobart Fenton before midnight should arrive.
+However, he did say, in an irrelevant sort of manner:
+
+"Oh, by the way--do either of you happen to recall which direction the
+house at Chatterton Place faces?"
+
+"North," replied Harry and Chick, almost in the same breath.
+
+"Ah yes. Well, the temple faces south. Can you remember that?"
+
+They thought they could. The rest of the meal was eaten without any
+discussion. Just as they arose, however, the doctor observed:
+
+"It may be that Hobart Fenton has got to come through. I wish I
+knew more about his mentality; it's largely a question of psychic
+influence--the combined, resultant force of the three material gems, and
+the three degrees of psychic vibration as put forth by him and you two.
+We shall see.
+
+"Something happened today--the Geos told me about it--which may link up
+Hobart very definitely. It was about one o'clock when one of the temple
+pheasants began to behave very queerly up on the great stair. It had
+been walking around on the snow-stone, and flying a bit; then it started
+to hop down the steps.
+
+"About sixteen steps down, Geos says the pheasant stopped and began
+to flutter frantically, as though some unseen person were holding it.
+Suddenly it vanished, and as suddenly reappeared again. It flew off,
+unharmed. I can't quite account for it, but--well, we'll see!"
+
+He spoke no more, but led the way out into the entrance to the wing.
+There they waited only a moment or two, before the Nervina and her
+retinue arrived. Without delay a start was made for the great black
+stairway.
+
+The doctor alone remained behind.
+
+There was a guard-lined lane through the crowd, allowing the Nervina and
+the rest access to the foot of the steps. Reaching that point she paused
+for a look around.
+
+The sun had just gone down; the artificial lights of the temple had not
+yet been turned on. Overhead, the great storm-cloud hung portentously,
+even more ominous than in the brighter light. The huge waterspout
+columns, the terrific size of the auditorium, were none the less
+impressive for the incalculable horde that filled every bit of floor
+space. At the front of the building the archway gave a glimpse of the
+vastly greater throng waiting outside.
+
+But all was quiet, with the silence of reverence and supreme
+expectation.
+
+The long flight of stairs was lined on either side, from bottom to
+top, with the Rhamdas. On the landing there stood only two of the three
+chairs that Chick had seen on the previous occasion. The green one had
+been brought down and placed in the centre of an open spot just at the
+foot of the stairs.
+
+In this chair sat the Bar Senestro. Deployed about him, at a respectful
+distance, was a semi-circle of the Bars, many hundreds in number. Behind
+the Bars, separating them from the crowds at their backs, were grouped
+the crimson and blue guardsmen. Among them, no doubt, were the Jan Lucar
+and the MacPherson, but Chick could locate neither.
+
+The Nervina, taking Harry's arm, ascended the steps. Chick followed,
+with the Rhamda Geos at his side. At the top of the flight the Nervina
+was escorted to one of the chairs, while Chick placed the Geos in the
+other.
+
+It left the two Californians on their feet, to move around to whatever
+extent seemed commensurate with dignity. Chick drew Harry aside.
+
+"What do you suppose," said Chick, indicating the handsome, confident
+figure in the chair at the base of the stairs--"what do you suppose
+friend Senestro is thinking about?"
+
+Harry frowned. "You know him better than I do. You don't think he has
+reformed?"
+
+"Not on your life; not the Bar. He's merely adjusted his plans to the
+new situation. He sees that the Prophecy is likely to be fulfilled; so,
+he counts on being the first to get through, after the Nervina. Then,
+whether the rest of the Thomahlia follows or not--he calls himself the
+divinely appointed leader now, I understand--he will get through and
+marry the two Queens anyhow!"
+
+Perhaps it was because the crowd was so terrifically large. Or, there
+may have been something in the destiny of things that would not permit
+the chief actors to feel nervous. Certain it is that neither of the two
+men experienced the least stage fright. Had they been on display before
+a crowd one-tenth the size, anywhere else, both would have been ill at
+ease. This was different--enormously so.
+
+No longer was there any circulation in the crowd. People remained in
+their places now, just as they expected the end to find them. Chick
+and Harry marvelled at their composure, strangely in contrast with
+the ceaseless activities of the temple pheasants darting everywhere
+overhead.
+
+Suddenly Harry remarked:
+
+"I've got an idea, Chick! It's this: How does the professor expect to
+send a message to Hobart?" Chick could not guess.
+
+But already Harry had taken his sheet of instructions from his pocket,
+and was rolling it into a compact pellet. Then he went to Queen, and
+with a ribbon borrowed from the Nervina, tied the message tightly to the
+dog's collar.
+
+"Hobart will be certain to see it," said he. "I wonder if the doctor's
+figured it out yet?"
+
+"He's playing with a tremendous force," observed Chick, thoughtfully.
+He reached out and touched the snow-stone with his foot, just as he had
+done before, and fancied that he could feel that electric thrill even
+through the leather of his shoes. "Still, it's worth any risk he may
+be taking down in that chamber. If only he could send Queen through!
+Hobart--"
+
+He never finished the sentence. He staggered, thrown off his balance by
+reason of the fact that he had been resting the weight of one foot on
+the stone and--it moved!
+
+Moved--shifted about its axis, just as it had done forty-eight hours
+previously, when the Aradna had dropped through.
+
+And Chick had only a flash of a second for a glimpse of the startled
+faces of Harry, the Nervina and the Geos, the huge multitude below the
+stair, Queen on the other side, and the fateful Prophecy on the walls
+above him, before--
+
+A figure came into existence at his side. It was that of a powerfully
+built man, on whose wrists were curious red circles. And Chick shouted
+in a great voice:
+
+"Hobart!"
+
+And then came blackness.
+
+
+
+
+XLVII
+
+THE LAST LEAF
+
+
+Watson's story was now completed. During the entire recital his auditors
+had spoken scarcely a word. It had been marvellous--almost a revelation.
+With the possible exception of Sir Henry Hodges, not one had expected
+that it would measure up to this. For the whole thing backed up
+Holcomb's original proposition:
+
+"The Occult is concrete."
+
+Certainly, if what Watson had told them was true, then Infinity had been
+squared by itself. Not only was there an infinity that we might look up
+to through the stars, but there was another just as great, co-existent,
+here upon the earth. The occult became not only possible, but unlimited.
+
+The next few minutes would prove whether or not he had told the truth.
+
+It was now close to midnight.
+
+Jerome and General Hume had returned from Berkeley. Their quest had been
+successful; Watson now had the missing green stone. A number of soldiers
+were stationed about the house. Watson noted these men when he had
+finished his account, and said:
+
+"Good. We may need them, although I hope not. Fortunately the Spot is
+small, and a few of us can hold it against a good many. What we must do
+is to extricate our friends and close it. Afterward we may have time for
+more leisurely investigation. But we must remember, above all things,
+that black case of Professor Holcomb's! It holds the secrets.
+
+"Now I must ask you all to step out of this room. This library, you
+know, is the Blind Spot."
+
+He directed them to take positions along the balustrade of the stairway,
+out in the hall--through the wide archway, where they could have a clear
+view, yet be safe.
+
+It was a curious test. With nothing but his mathematics and his drawing
+to go by, Watson was about to set the three stones in their invisible
+sockets. He spread the map out carefully, likewise his calculations;
+they gave him, on this floor, the precise positions that he charted
+on the earth of the cellar. A glance toward the front of the
+house--north--then a little measuring, three chalk-marks on the carpet,
+and he was ready for the final move.
+
+He took the fateful ring and with a penknife pried up the prongs that
+held the stone. As it popped out he caught it with one hand. Then he
+looked at the row of wondering faces along the stair.
+
+"I think it will work," he said. "But, remember--don't come near! I
+shall get out as best I can myself; don't try to save me."
+
+With that he held the jewel on the first of the three chalk-marks on the
+circumference of the great circle. He held it tight against the carpet
+and then let go. Up it flashed about one foot--and disappeared.
+
+There was no sound. Next Watson took the red stone. With it, the process
+was inverted. Instead of holding it to the floor he raised it as high as
+he could reach, directly above the second mark. Then he let it drop.
+
+It did not reach the floor. It fell a little more than halfway, and
+vanished.
+
+The third stone, the green one, was still remaining. Watson took it to
+the third and final mark on the circle, taking care to keep outside the
+circumference that marked the Spot. This mark was directly in front of
+the archway. He turned to them.
+
+"Watch carefully," he spoke. "I do not know what has transpired in the
+temple during the past few hours. Be ready for ANYTHING. All of you!"
+
+He dropped the stone.
+
+With the same motion he dodged out into the hall.
+
+Though there was no sound there was something that every one felt--a
+sibilant undertone and cold vibration--a tense flash of magnetism. Then
+the dot of blue--a string of incandescence; just as had been spoken.
+
+The Blind Spot was opening.
+
+Watson silently warned the others to remain where they were and
+himself crowded back against the stair. And as he did so, someone came
+noiselessly down the steps from the floor above, passed unnoticed behind
+the watchers and thence across into the hall.
+
+It was a slender, frail figure in white--the Aradna, walking like one in
+the grip of a higher will. Before they could make a move she had stepped
+into the Blind Spot, under the dot of blue, and into a string of light.
+And then--she was gone.
+
+It was as swift as a guess. It was inexorable and unseen; and being
+unseen, close akin to terror. The group watched and waited, scarcely
+breathing. What would happen next?
+
+There came a sudden, jarring click--like the tapping of iron. And next
+instant--
+
+The Spot opened to human sight.
+
+The library at 288 Chatterton Place was gone. Instead, the people on
+the stairs were gazing down from the Spot of Life, straight into the
+colossal Temple of the Jarados.
+
+It was as Chick had described it--immense--beyond conception. Through
+the great doors and out into the plaza beyond was gathered all
+Thomahlia, reverent, like those waiting for the crack of doom.
+
+Above the horde, high on the opposite wall, stood out the monster Clover
+Leaf of the Jarados; three-coloured--blazing like liquid fire; it was
+ominous with real life.
+
+At that moment the whole concourse rippled with commotion. Arms were
+uplifted; one and all pointed towards the dais. They, too were looking
+through the Spot. Then the multitude began to move.
+
+It heaved and surged and rolled toward the centre. The guards were
+pressed in upon the Bars, the Bars upon the Rhamda-lined stair. There
+was no resisting that flood of humanity. On and up it came, sweeping
+everything before it.
+
+Directly in the foreground lay the snow-stone. On its centre stood
+the dog Queen, crouching, waiting, bristling. By her side Harry Wendel
+crouched on one knee, as if awaiting the signal. Behind him, the
+Nervina, supporting the awakening Aradna. And in front of all, the
+powerful bulk of Hobart Fenton, standing squarely at the head of the
+stair, ready to grapple the first to reach the landing.
+
+But most important of all, there stood the doctor himself. He was at the
+Nervina's side; in his hand, the case of priceless data. He was gazing
+through the Spot and making a signal of some kind to Watson, whereupon
+the latter leaped to the edge of the unseen circle.
+
+Something had gone wrong. The Spot was not fully open. Nothing but sight
+could get through.
+
+Yet there was no time for anything. Up the stairs came the Bars, leading
+and being pressed forward by the horde. At their head dashed the Bar
+Senestro, handsome as Alexander. Hobart stepped forward to meet him, but
+the doctor stopped him with a word.
+
+Only a few seconds elapsed between death and salvation. Again Dr.
+Holcomb signed to Watson; not a sound came through. Watson hesitated.
+
+The dog Queen shot to her feet. Then the Senestro, out-distancing all
+the rest and dodging Hobart, had leaped upon the dais.
+
+Upon the wall across the temple the great Leaf of the Jarados stood out
+like sinister fire. It pulsed and vibrated--alive. The top petal--the
+blue one--suddenly broke into a seething wave of flame.
+
+Still Watson held back. He could not understand what Holcomb meant.
+
+Queen waited only until the Senestro set foot on the dais. She crouched,
+then leaped.
+
+It was done.
+
+With a lightning shift of his nimble feet, the high-tempered Bar
+kicked the shepherd in the side. Caught at full leap, she was knocked
+completely over and fell upon the snow-stone.
+
+It was the Sacrilege!
+
+Even the Bars beyond the Senestro stopped in horror. The Four-Footed
+One--sacred to the Jarados--it was she who had been touched! Had the
+Senestro undone all on the Spot of Judgment, What would be the end?
+
+Fenton acted. He caught the Senestro before he could get his balance and
+with a mighty heave hurled him over the side of the stair. A second, and
+it was over.
+
+Another second was the last. For the great Leaf of the Jarados had
+opened.
+
+The green and red stood still; but out of the blue came a dazzling
+light, a powerful beam; so brilliant, it seemed solid. It shot across
+the whole sweep of the temple and touched the Prophecy. Over the golden
+scrolls it traced its marvellous colour, until it came to the lines:
+
+  Beware ye of sacrilege! Lest I take from ye all that I
+  have given ye, and the day be postponed--beware ye of
+  sacrilege!
+
+For a moment the strange light stood still, so that the checked millions
+might read. Then it turned upon the dais.
+
+There it spread, and hovered over the group, until it seemed to work
+them together--the Nervina to Harry, the Aradna to Hobart. Not one of
+them knew what it was; they obeyed by impulse--it was their destiny; the
+Chosen, and the queens.
+
+The light stopped at the foot of Dr. Holcomb. Then the strangest thing
+happened.
+
+Out of the light--or rather, from where it bathed the snowstone--came a
+man; a man much like Holcomb, bearded and short and kindly.
+
+He was the real Jarados!
+
+Unhesitatingly the professor stepped up beside him. Then followed Hobart
+and the Aradna, Harry and the Nervina, and lastly, from the crowd of
+Bars, MacPherson. The whole concourse in the temple stopped in awe and
+terror.
+
+Only for a second. Then the Jarados and all at his side--were gone.
+
+And upon the snow-stone there stood a sword of living flame.
+
+It stood there for just a breath, exactly where the group had been.
+
+And it was gone.
+
+That was all.
+
+No; not quite all. For when the Blind Spot closed that night at 288
+Chatterton Place, there came once more the deep, solemn peal of the Bell
+of the Jarados.
+
+
+
+
+XLVIII
+
+THE UNACCOUNTABLE
+
+
+Were this account merely a work of fiction, it would harmonise things so
+as to have no unaccountables in it. As it is, the present writers will
+have to make this quite clear:
+
+It is not known why the Rhamda Avec failed to show himself at the
+crucial moment. Perhaps he could have changed everything. We can only
+surmise; he has not been seen or heard from since.
+
+Which also is true of Mr. Chick Watson. He disappeared immediately after
+the closing of the Spot, saying that he was going to Bertha Holcomb's
+home. No trace has been found of either to date. Doubtless the reader
+has noted advertisement in the papers, appealing to the authorities to
+report any one of Watson's description applying for a marriage licence.
+
+As for his two friends, Wendel and Fenton, together with the Aradna and
+the Nervina, they and MacPherson and the doctor absolutely vanished from
+all the knowledge, either of the Thomahlia or the earth. The Jarados
+alone can tell of them.
+
+Mme. Le Fabre, however, feels that she can explain the matter
+satisfactorily. Abridged, her theory runs:
+
+"There is but one way to explore the Occult. That way is to die.
+
+"For all that we were so strongly impressed with the reality of
+Mr. Watson, I am firmly convinced that he was simply a spirit; that
+everything we saw was spirit manifestation.
+
+"Dr. Holcomb and all the rest have simply gone on to another plane. We
+shall never see them again. They are dead; no other explanation will
+hold. They are spirits."
+
+Giving this version to the public strictly for what it is worth, the
+present writers feel it only right to submit the conclusions reached
+by Dr. Malloy and concurred in by Drs. Higgins and Hansen, also, with
+reservations, by Professor Herold and by Miss Clarke.
+
+"To a certain extent, and up to a certain point, it is possible
+to account for the astonishing case of the Blind Spot by means of
+well-known psychological principles. Hallucinations will cover a great
+deal of ground.
+
+"But we feel that our personal experiences, in witnessing the interior
+of the Thomahlia cannot be thus explained away. Our accounts tally too
+exactly; and we are not subject to group hypnosis.
+
+"To explain this we believe a new hypothesis is called for. We submit
+that what we saw was not unreal. Assuming that a thing is real or
+unreal, and can never be in a third state which is neither one nor the
+other, then we should have to insist that what we saw was REAL.
+
+"We stand ready and prepared to accept any theory which will fit all
+facts, not merely a portion."
+
+Again refraining from any comment we pass on to the more exhaustive
+opinion of Sir Henry Hodges. Inasmuch as this seems to coincide very
+closely with the hypothesis of Professor Holcomb, and as the reputation
+of Sir Henry is a thing of weight, we are quoting him almost verbatim:
+
+"There is a well-known experiment in chemistry, wherein equal quantities
+of water and alcohol are mixed. Let us say, a pint of each. Now, the
+resulting mixture ought to be a quart; but it is not. It is somewhat
+less than a quart.
+
+"Strange, indeed, to the novice, but a commonplace to every student of
+the subject. It is strange only that, except for Dr. Holcomb and
+this man Avec, science has overlooked the stupendous significance and
+suggestion of this particular fact.
+
+"Now, consider another well-known fact: No matter how you try you cannot
+prevent gravity from acting. It will pull every object down, regardless
+of how you try to screen it from the earth.
+
+"Why? Because gravity penetrates all things. Again, why? Why should
+gravity penetrate all things?
+
+"The answer is, because gravity is a function of the ether. And the
+ether is an imponderable substance, so impalpable that it passes right
+through all solids as though they were not there.
+
+"These are two highly suggestive points. They show us, first, that two
+substances can exist within the space formerly thought to be completely
+filled by one. Second, they show that ALL substances are porous to the
+ether.
+
+"Very well. Bear in mind that we know nothing whatever directly about
+the ether; our knowledge is all indirect. Therefore--
+
+"It may be that there is more than one ether!
+
+"Conceive what this means. If there were another ether, how could we
+become aware of it? Only through the medium of some such phenomenon as
+the Blind Spot; not through ordinary channels. For the ordinary channels
+are microscopes and test-tubes, every one of which, when traced to the
+ultimate, is simply a concrete expression of THE ONE ETHER WE KNOW!
+
+"In the nature of the case our five senses could never apprehend a
+second ether.
+
+"Yet, knowing what we do about the structure of the atom, of electronic
+activity, of quantels, we must admit that there is a huge, unoccupied
+space--that is, we can't see that it is occupied--in and between the
+interstices of the atom.
+
+"It is in the region, mingled and intertwined with the electrons which
+make up the world we know so well, that--in my opinion--the Thomahlian
+world exists. It is actually coexistent with our own. It is here, and
+so are we. At this very instant, at any given spot, there can be,
+and almost certainly is, more than one solid object--two systems of
+materiality, two systems of life, two systems of death. And if two, why,
+then, perhaps there are even more!
+
+"Holcomb is right. We are Infinity. Only our five senses make us
+finite."
+
+Charlotte Fenton does not indulge in speculation. She seems to bear up
+wonderfully well in the face of Harry Wendel's affinity for the
+Nervina, and also in the face of her brother's disappearance. And she
+philosophically states:
+
+"When Columbus returned from his search for the East Indies, he
+triumphantly announced that he had found what he sought.
+
+"He was mistaken. He had found something else--America.
+
+"It may be that we are all mistaken. It may be that something entirely
+different from what any one has suspected has been found. Time will
+tell. I am willing to wait."
+
+To make it complete, it is felt that the following statement of General
+Hume is not only essential, but convincing to the last degree.
+
+"My view regarding this mystery is simply this: I have eyes, and I
+have seen. I don't know whether the actors were living or dead. I am
+no scientist; I have no theory. I only know. And I will swear to what I
+saw.
+
+"I am a soldier. The two men who are bringing this to press have shown
+me their copy.
+
+"It is correct."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Blind Spot, by Austin Hall and Homer Eon Flint
+
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