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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blind Spot
+by Austin Hall and Homer Eon Flint
+
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+
+
+Title: The Blind Spot
+
+Author: Austin Hall and Homer Eon Flint
+
+Release Date: January, 2004  [EBook #4920]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on March 27, 2002]
+[Date last updated: May 17, 2004]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE BLIND SPOT ***
+
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+THE BLIND SPOT
+
+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! I"--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 THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE BLIND SPOT ***
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