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diff --git a/76603-h/76603-h.htm b/76603-h/76603-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee69662 --- /dev/null +++ b/76603-h/76603-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10871 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Karl Grier | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tiny {width: 5%; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td {padding-left: 0.5em;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .blockquot { + margin-left: 7.5%; + margin-right: 7.5%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxxlarge {font-size: 300%;} +.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.drop-cap { + text-indent: -0.35em; +} + +p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.85em; + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap { + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} +.poetry .center {text-align: center;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76603 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>KARL GRIER</h1> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="titlepage"> +<p><span class="xxxlarge">KARL GRIER</span></p> + +<p><span class="xxlarge">The Strange Story of a<br> +Man with a Sixth Sense</span></p> + +<p>BY<br> +<span class="xlarge">LOUIS TRACY</span><br> + +<span class="smcap">Author of “The Wings of the Morning,” “The Pillar<br> +of Light” and “The Great Mogul.”</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="publisher's logo"></div> + +<p><span class="large">New York</span><br> +<span class="xlarge">Edward J. Clode</span><br> +<span class="large">156 Fifth Avenue<br> +1906</span></p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1905, by</span><br> +EDWARD J. CLODE</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<p class="center"><i>Entered at Stationers’ Hall</i><br> +<br> +<i>The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass. U.S.A.</i></p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + + +<table> + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER I</th></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Affair of the Tea-Garden</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1"> 1</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER II</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Saving of Constantine</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14"> 14</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER III</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Finding of Maggie Hutchinson</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27"> 27</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER IV</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Cat and Frank Hooper</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_41"> 41</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER V</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Karl’s First Meeting with Steindal</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53"> 53</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER VI</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">In which Constantine has a Vision</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66"> 66</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER VII</th></tr> + +<tr><td>“<span class="smcap">Blood is a very Peculiar Juice</span>”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78"> 78</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER VIII</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Maggie Hutchinson Intervenes</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_90"> 90</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER IX</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Confounded Hotel Clerk</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101"> 101</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER X</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Maggie Tells what Befel Her</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_115"> 115</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XI</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Key of the Treasure-House</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_126"> 126</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XII<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span></th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Scene in the Garden Court</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_138"> 138</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XIII</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Constantine Takes a Journey</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_151"> 151</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XIV</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Constantine Encounters the Shark</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_165"> 165</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XV</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Other Woman</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_177"> 177</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XVI</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Women Called Him “The Magnet”</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_190"> 190</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XVII</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">I Meet Nora Cazenove</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_203"> 203</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XVIII</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Problem Takes Shape</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216"> 216</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XIX</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Unbidden Guest</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231"> 231</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XX</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Steindal Gives a Public Performance</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_246"> 246</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XXI</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Hooper Suggests a Way Out</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_260"> 260</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XXII</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Nora Faces the Inevitable</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_275"> 275</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIII</th></tr> + +<tr><td>“<span class="smcap">A Struggle ’twixt Love and Death</span>”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292"> 292</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIV</th></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Fall of the Curtain</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_308"> 308</a></td></tr> +</table> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> + +<p class="ph2">KARL GRIER</p> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br> + +<small>THE AFFAIR OF THE TEA-GARDEN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE chief actor in the singular, perhaps +unprecedented, incidents herein recorded +now leads a sedate existence of British top-hatted +respectability. Many reputable citizens +of London and Edinburgh, not to mention +cosmopolitan Paris and New York, to whom +he is personally known, would be exceedingly +surprised were they to recognize, through the +thin disguise of places and people, the popular +man of the world whose extraordinary career +is now set forth for the first time.</p> + +<p>Some few there are who dimly comprehend +Karl Grier’s secret. They, for reasons that +shall be obvious, will keep their amazed imaginings +locked in their own hearts. Others, men +of precise science for the most part, who have +been approached in order that certain remarkable +phenomena might be sanely investigated, +refute with scorn the suggestion that such a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span> +person ever lived. That is to say, they cannot +deny Karl Grier, with his giant frame +and his hearty whole-souled laugh, but they +do deny most emphatically that he ever possessed +the unknown power which he exercised +in a marvelous way during several eventful +years.</p> + +<p>If aught could make Karl angry, it is the +stupid agnosticism of these learned critics, +true children of the dull tribe which began, +ages ago, to create its own unbending gods of +stone and wood, and has been setting up barriers +to knowledge ever since, building dogmatic +walls the crossing of which is forbidden by +bell, book, and candle.</p> + +<p>Yet it is not within my province to rail +against these infallibles, who smile at the +density which imprisoned Galileo in the sixteen +hundreds, but refuse to-day’s evidence +of a new realm in man’s mental activity. Sometimes +Karl has been tempted, with me, his +biographer, as tempter, to place before an +astounded world such an array of facts as must +convert these scoffers into perfervid disciples. +He has been deterred—and here I may claim +some credit, too—by personal considerations, +by dread of the fierce light of publicity being +shed on those near and dear to him, and, in +lesser degree, by the fact that a settled, happy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> +existence has stifled the weird and subtle sense +which was vouchsafed to him during the growth +and plentitude of his bodily and spiritual +powers. So, peace be to the critics. “Eppur +si muove!” sighed the astronomer, recanting +the truth to save his life.</p> + +<p>For, without further preamble be it said, +my friend Grier was endowed with, or permitted +by Providence to use, a sixth sense, +which he and I, seeking its correct classification +in after years, named telegnomy, or far-knowing. +That is the nearest the vocabulary +of our times will approach to the description +of his mysterious faculty. Strictly speaking, +it was not a new sense, as one differentiates +seeing from hearing, or taste from touch. +Purists in words may even quarrel with me +for using the term “sense” to denote a transcendental +union of reason with physical attributes. +But, in writing a quaint, almost +sensational, narrative of actual occurrences, it +is well to be content with the simple phraseology +of every-day life, and, in that well-defined +vehicle of plain thought, the faculty vouchsafed +to Karl Grier was a sense.</p> + +<p>Its stupendous range, its curiously rational +limitations, will be grasped only by an intelligent +reading of these memoirs. So a truce +to the “Yea” and “Nay” of theorists. Let<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> +the story, or group of queer incidents, as it +may be termed, speak for itself.</p> + +<p>“I have always thought,” said Karl, musing +once in analytical mood, “that my sixth sense +owed its inception to the Babel-like jargon of +languages which surrounded my youthful years. +I remember distinctly being attired, on my +fourth birthday, in a new sailor suit, which +showed to an admiring family circle that I +was rated as a first-class A.B. on His Majesty’s +ship <i>Victorious</i>. We lived then in India, where +my father grew tea on a Darjeeling plantation. +I had a half-caste French nurse from Trichinopoly, +a Mahomedan bearer, or male servant, +a Scottish father and a German mother, +and each member of our little republic spoke +his or her own tongue when the heart was +stirred. In my jubilation I endeavored to +climb a creeper, and fell off the low veranda +on to a path covered with sharp flints. Both I +and the suit were damaged at all points of +contact with the globe. My mother shrieked: +‘Ach, Himmel!’ but, being a woman of steady +nerves, she soon perceived that little real mischief +had resulted, and she went on: ‘Er ist +zum seemann nicht geboren’ (He is not cut +out for a sailor). My father said, with a laugh: +‘We should hae kepit the bairn in a cutty +sark.’ The nurse flew to my assistance, crying:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> +‘Pauvre p’tit! Tu n’es pas assez adroit!’ +whilst Abdul Khan, my bearer, tried to console +my grief with his ‘Kuchparwani, batcha, +mainne mitai lata!’ (Never mind, little one, +I have some sweets for you.) Now, these +varied exclamations, conveying many distinct +ideas in four languages, of which the Eastern +differed in every respect from the European, +were instantly intelligible to me. Abdul Khan +alone comforted me—the others hurt my +pride. But the real point is that I understood +them all to the finest shade of meaning. +To put it plainly, sounds, and not words, conveyed +clear ideas. It was the first unknown +step along an uncharted road; the step a fox-terrier +takes when he grasps the inflections of +his master’s voice.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose that is what people mean when +they say that you can never really speak a +language well until you learn to think in that +language?” said I.</p> + +<p>Karl laughed gently, and a dreamy look +came into his eyes. At one time this would +have been the certain prelude to a condition +which, for want of a more accurate term, we +called a “trance,” though it was far removed +from the muscular or mental subjection induced +by mesmerism or clairvoyance. Now +he simply dropped his eyelids, took a whiff<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> +or two of his pipe, and, when he glanced at +me again, there was quiet humor, not fantasy, +in his big blue orbs.</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered, “the states may be +kin, but they differ, as the visual powers of a +daisy, which can see the sun, differ from those +of man. Education, by its necessary artificiality, +tends to destroy natural gifts. The +daily growth of a living language supplies +adequate proof of this truism. The first sounds +uttered by man, quite apart from signs and +symbols, implied a want or an emotion. Those +primary words run in unbroken gamut through +all variations of speech or dialect. Of course, +they vary, but not greatly, no more than the +bark of the Indian dog, the grunt of the Indian +pig, the caw of the Indian crow—I could +recite hundreds of examples—vary from the +typical cries of their European congeners. To +my childish intelligence, sounds were all sufficing. +I knew the voices of nature. The whinney +of a horse told me whether he was hungry +or thirsty, afraid or angered. I heard the kites +whistling their fellow-ghouls to the feast. I +could actually distinguish the answering bleat +of a kid to the hoarse summons of its dam +amidst a flock of goats. Good heavens! if +only my baby mind could have uttered its +knowledge, and found a scientific recorder,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> +what undeciphered mysteries of human development +might I not have solved!”</p> + +<p>Although this train of reminiscence was +somewhat removed from the far more curious +and complex sense he developed afterwards, +it was interesting as showing a tendency towards +the abnormal.</p> + +<p>“Have you any reason to believe that animals +ever knew you possessed the key to their utterances?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>“Not in a convincing degree. Oddly enough, +my intelligence was more receptive than creative. +Certainly my dogs, ponies, birds, and +other so-called dumb creatures with which I +was brought in contact were in extraordinary +sympathy with me. But such human and +animal collusions are far from rare. And I +could not speak to them with effect. Our +physical appliances are fashioned by use, remember. +If the nasal sounds of French will +change the shape of the roof of a Frenchman’s +mouth, or singing develop the singer’s throat +in a single lifetime, how much more profoundly +must untold generations of ordered language +have modified the vocal organs. So my four-footed +friends could not understand my harsh +imitations. They were too far down the scale. +I could plumb <i>their</i> depths, but <i>they</i> could only +gaze at me wistfully, as men look at the stars.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>He went on to tell how he startled his father, +one day, by the information that a colony of +minahs (the Indian starling) had found a snake +in a flower-bed, which was true, though none +could guess how the child knew it; and he +made me shake with merriment as he described +the antics of a monkey, whose chattering +rage he did succeed in burlesquing with some +degree of realism. But these are not serious +contributions to science, and I am truly endeavoring +to help forward my fellow-men +along the path which Morse, Edison, Marconi, +and many another earnest worker, each in a +separate sphere, yet each striving for the same +goal, have indicated to a world not yet ready +to advance. I pass, therefore, to the first +recorded use of his sixth sense. In all probability +there were minor instances, which were +unnoticed either by his parents or by the child +himself. This one could not be gainsaid. It +verified itself most dramatically.</p> + +<p>Karl’s peculiar gift of understanding the +crude languages of nomads—he lost the hidden +key long before any one thought of testing +him with Homeric verse or the polished periods +of Cicero—enabled him to converse with the +unkempt Nepalese and wilder Tibetans who +occasionally visited the station in the guise +of petty traders. He was six years old when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> +the famous Hutchinson Raid took place. Already +he had learnt to read, but, luckily, his +parents, being wise folk, determined that such +a precocious child must not be encouraged in +his studies, else the growth of method in that +wondrous little brain must already have dimmed +his comprehension of primeval speech.</p> + +<p>The Griers’ tea-garden, with its fine bungalow +and spacious coolie quarters, was an old +estate. It stood on the outskirts of the scattered +houses which comprised the station. In +a neighboring valley, two miles away, a London +company had established a huge garden, employing +nearly three thousand coolies, and the +manager was a Mr. Frank Hutchinson. One +day, at the beginning of the hot weather, +Hutchinson drove to the local bank, and obtained +a very considerable sum of money, +some twenty odd thousand rupees, to pay +the monthly wages. Being a “brither Scot,” +he called on the Griers, left his wife there for +a gossip, and his little daughter, Maggie, for +a romp with Karl. The three set out towards +home in time for dinner, and Karl was, naturally, +very reluctant to part from his little playmate.</p> + +<p>She, too, nearly wept, so he consoled her +by saying:—</p> + +<p>“Don’t cwy, Maggie”—for he had a slight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> +lisp—“Mamsie says we are coming to see +you soon, and <i>I’ll think of you until Nanna</i> +(the French nurse) <i>puts me to bed</i>.”</p> + +<p>Maggie evidently found consolation in this +limited promise of fidelity. It can only be +assumed that the boy kept his vow. In his +mind he followed the child and her parents +down into the valley, across the river, and up +the hill-side to the spacious compound which +held the house and offices. Arrived there, in +fancy, his active brain roamed about the place, +which he knew well. Then his wits wandered. +His father, quitting the monthly accounts in +time for dinner, found the nurse sitting in the +veranda, sewing, in a dim light. Near her +was Karl, unusually quiet, curled up in a big +peg-chair. Grier spoke, but the boy did not +answer. Stooping, he noticed a tiny stream +of blood issuing from a nostril.</p> + +<p>Though not a nervous man, he lifted Karl +into his arms with quick anxiety, and the +youngster appeared to wake from a light sleep.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter, sonny?” he asked, +somewhat puzzled. “Why is your nose bleeding?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Daddy, but I have been a +long way, and maybe I hurted myself.”</p> + +<p>“Been a long way! Has Master Karl been +out, Mathilde?” he inquired.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>“Mais non, m’sieur. He play some time, +then he sit himself in the chair.”</p> + +<p>“But I have, Daddy,” persisted the child. +“I went with Maggie. I heard Mr. Hutchinson +tell Mrs. Hutchinson that their tea crop +was not a good one, as the soil was too light, +and he thought the Company had not chosen +a good pitch.”</p> + +<p>This was sufficiently bewildering from a boy +of six, being an opinion which Hutchinson +would not utter even to Grier himself. But +Karl, whose lisp need not be reproduced, was +brimful of news.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is quite, quite true,” he cried +in response to his father’s laughing protest. +“Maggie went in, and was a naughty girl +because she could not sit up for dinner. Then +I went around the house, and I saw some hill +men in a wood. They said they were going +to kill Mr. Hutchinson to-night, and steal his +money. One of them will give the <i>chowkidars</i> +(watchmen) something to make them sleep. +They will put the bags of money on some +ponies, and go by a hill path into Sikkim. +There are eight brown ponies and one white +one. I counted them.”</p> + +<p>Some inkling of a tremendous fact stayed +the remonstrance on Mr. Grier’s lips. He +was Scottish, you see, a Highlander bred and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> +born, and he <i>almost</i> believed in second sight. +So he encouraged Karl to talk, obtained additional +and more convincing details, for the +child gave him the exact phrases of the Shillong +patois used by the bandits, and finally handed +over the youthful visionary to Mathilde, telling +her to ask Mrs. Grier to keep some dinner +for him—he was called away on urgent business.</p> + +<p>He rode to the house of the District Superintendent +of Police. As a favor, for Grier +was a popular man, Captain Melville gathered +a few mounted constables, and they all cantered +off to the Hutchinsons’ garden. In the compound +they found a stranger fraternizing with +the servants, and in his possession was a +quantity of sweetmeats, which subsequent examination +proved to be rank with <i>dhatura</i>, +an Indian drug which can induce sleep or +death.</p> + +<p>A raid on the wood secured a dozen rascals +armed to the teeth, and the nine ponies, exactly +as Karl had described them. There was a +small fight, in which a sepoy’s head was cut +open, but the surprise was too effectual for +any serious resistance to be offered. “Conspiracy” +was the root word of the legal indictment +which sent the gang to the Andamans +convict settlement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>The affair was known as the “Hutchinson +Raid.” Such things happen in India. But +Karl’s share in the adventure was kept quiet +by the authorities. It would have discredited +the otherwise conclusive evidence, they thought.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br> + +<small>THE SAVING OF CONSTANTINE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Though</span> others might calmly dismiss the +child’s vision as an extraordinarily accurate +delusion—“an unusually elaborate series of +coincidences,” the policeman termed it—not +so his parents. A man from Inverness, a +woman from the Schwartz Wald, may be dour +and stolid to outward seeming, but they are +highly imaginative by nature.</p> + +<p>An ancestor of Grier’s, a warrior bard, took +service with the Elector-Palatine, and this +remote link led to the Indian tea-planter marrying +a stout and pretty Gretchen from the +borders of the Black Forest. Karl, named +after his German grandfather, not altogether +without an eye to the main chance, I regret +to say, was their only child, and were he the +ugliest duckling ever hatched he would yet +have been their greatest treasure. But he was +a very good-looking, merry-eyed, manly little +fellow, with a face like one of Murillo’s angels, +and eyes with the blue of the Red Sea in them. +If you are in doubt as to the true blend of +sapphire and ultramarine meant by that tint,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> +ask any sailor-man of your acquaintance, and +he will tell you that the blue of the Red Sea is +a deep, unvarying, steadfast color, while the +blue of the Mediterranean is, often as not, a +steely mistral gray.</p> + +<p>In a word, Mr. and Mrs. Grier secretly worshiped +their bonny chick, and it was a great +shock to them to discover that his developing +brains held compartments not within common +ken. Therefore, although Karl ate his meals +heartily, and throve apace, they kept a close +eye on him, and compared notes whenever +any curious action or utterance caught their +attention. And what eagle-like intensity there +is in that wistful parental glance! How it +detects and interprets signs and portents! What +degenerates must be the father and mother +whose first warning of danger to their young +comes from a nurse!</p> + +<p>So it came to pass that once, aged seven, +Karl had the earache. “Goodness me!” cries +the experienced matron, “that is nothing to +cause domestic flutterings. A pinch of bicarbonate +of soda dissolved in a teaspoonful +of hot water, or, in severe attacks, a few drops +of laudanum on cotton-wool, will deaden the +pain and induce sleep.”</p> + +<p>Yes, madam, but if your little Tom, Dick, or +Harry remarked that “the music was doing it,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> +and, when pressed for details, began to explain +that some one was playing a flute, thus—whereupon +Karl softly hummed part of the +obligato to the nightingale song from the +“Marriage of Jeannette”—if, moreover, your +budding genius went on:</p> + +<p>“There is a lady singing now. Listen:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">Au bord du chemin qui passe ma porte</div> +<div class="verse">Fleurit un bel aubépin, un bel aubépin....”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>and you knew quite well that the Commissioner’s +niece, helped by a love-sick subaltern who +fluted, was probably singing that identical song +in a house over a mile distant, what would +you do?</p> + +<p>Send for the doctor, of course.</p> + +<p>The doctor came, a hard-headed Scot—they +thrive in India, those Scotsmen—and +heard the story. At first he was inclined to +place a mother’s vagaries firmly on one side, +but, when a <span lang="es"> <i>chuprassi</i></span> (messenger) brought +a reply to Mrs. Grier’s note, and he read what +the Commissioner’s niece had written, he +stroked his long nose silently. For this was +the answer:</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Browne was here for luncheon. +About two o’clock he ran through the ‘Rossignol’ +song with me, first without the voice, +afterwards with all the frills. But what on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> +earth made you guess it? Mr. Browne is so +amazed that he is staying to tea. <i>Do</i> come +and tell us all about it.”</p> + +<p>“And ye say ye mentioned the chune yerself, +Mrs. Grier?” said he meditatively.</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed. I heard Miss Nicholls sing +it at the Gloucesters’ concert and Karl was +not there. What can it all mean, doctor?”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could read that riddle. Ye would +see all the letters of the alphabet afther me +name. But trouble not yer head about Karl, +Mrs. Grier. A slight discharge is beginning, +and that brings instant relief.”</p> + +<p>He sought Grier in the big drying-room of +the tea factory.</p> + +<p>“That boy of yours is a pheenomenon,” +he said. “The sensory zone of his brain is, +I should imagine, of remarkable size and +unique capacity. With care, and ordinary luck, +he should grow into a marvelous man. But +yer wife must not fret if he puzzles her at +times. He has the digestion of an ostrich, +and the stamina of a young bull.”</p> + +<p>“Is there any way of accounting for his +queer faculties?” asked the planter.</p> + +<p>“How can the normal account for the abnormal?” +answered the doctor. “Here we +have a set of nerves the functions of which +are ill understood. We know that unilateral<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> +destruction of a center will partially abolish +sensation on the opposite side of the body. A +bilatereal lesion will destroy all sensation. In +simple language, if the hearing nerves are +damaged on the right side, you are somewhat +deaf in the left ear; but general destruction +means total deafness. That is what happens +when the ordinary appliances are deranged. +It is beyond me to explain the process whereby +those same appliances obtain a tenfold, perhaps +a thousand-fold, activity.”</p> + +<p>“Is such a thing possible?”</p> + +<p>The Civil Surgeon selected a cigar from +five exactly similar weeds in his case with a +care that betokened a nice discrimination.</p> + +<p>“One does not discuss these matters with +womenfolk, Grier; they think ye are flying in +the face of Providence,” he said. “Therefore, +keep my opeenion for yer own lug, so to speak. +I have a theory, a pipe-and-tobacco bit of +pheelosophy, mind you, that human inventiveness +is bounded only by the latent powers of +the human brain. The limits are absolute, +but they are far beyond our dimmest comprehension, +as yet. I suppose you never saw an +epileptic lunatic?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>The tea-planter disliked the abrupt question. +When you come to think of it, it had a disagreeable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> +sound in a discussion of a pretty +child’s simple ailment. Doctors are apt to +forget their hearers’ unscientific feelings.</p> + +<p>“It provides a most interesting study,” said +Dr. Macpherson, with a grim glee. “Such a +case is frequently accompanied by sensory +hallucinations and certain subjective sensations, +such as unseen flashes of light and color, +strange, and often offensive, tastes and smells, +the result of some morbid irritation of the +cortical sensory centers, which are the anatomical +subtrata of ideation.”</p> + +<p>“What the—what has all this got to do +with Karl?” demanded Grier, with rising +wrath.</p> + +<p>“Softly, noo, ma man. Before ye build ye +mun have a foundation. I am one of those +who think that insanity is closely akin to genius. +An extra dense membrane may convert a +potential Isaac Newton into an actual eediot. +The other day, a clever Frenchman—they +are daring deevils, the French—opened an +imbecile’s skull, rearranged his brain lobes, +and provided space for expansion. The imbecile +went through all the processes of intellectual +growth, and is now a sane man. +Why should not nature go one better than the +surgeon, and suddenly irradiate her wide realm +by some lightning gleam? In other days her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> +efforts in that direction led her subjects to +martyrdom or sanctity, by the sheer chance +of their being on the winning or losing side. +Mostly, both then and now, she sends her unfortunate +failures to the mad-house.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Macpherson,” interrupted Grier +hotly, “you are talking about my boy, remember.”</p> + +<p>“Deed, ay! He’s a credit to ye, but he +wouldn’t have the earache if ye hadn’t dowered +him wi’a thick cranium.”</p> + +<p>And the doctor hurried away, sore because +his grains of science had fallen on such unreceptive +soil.</p> + +<p>Karl, of course, recovered speedily, and the +more he learnt to appreciate a Manipur pony, +a brace of sporting fox-terriers, and an air-gun, +the less prone was he to uncanny manifestations. +As the sway of Mathilde declined, +the more did he unconsciously acquire the lore +of the jungle, until, at ten years of age, he had +the wisdom and beauty of a young god, though +he could scarce write his name, and spelled +as a Scotchman jokes.</p> + +<p>So a family council sat many times, and +there came a day when Mrs. Grier and Karl +leaned against the rail of the P. & O. steamer, +<i>Ganges</i>, and watched the form of the stalwart +planter until he, and the Calcutta Ghaut,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> +and the busy banks of the Hughli River, dissolved +in a mist of tears.</p> + +<p>For India is an evil land in which to rear +tender plants of European stock, and Karl +must go home, not to see the glowing east +again until he was a man. His mother went +with him, and, if God favored the loving family, +they would all be reunited when Grier sold +his tea-garden in its highest state of efficiency +some three years later. These partings yield +the sternest test of an imperial race. Hearts +which do not break suffer the fiercer strain.</p> + +<p>Karl, who had forgotten the sea, being +scarce able to toddle when his parents quitted +Britain, quickly merged his sorrows in the +marvels of the Bay of Bengal. His mother, +choking her grief each day until the boy slept, +watched him narrowly. She was a very intelligent +woman, and, although her formula +was wordless, she had a definite belief that the +immensity of the ocean, its far-flung silence, +might affect her extraordinary son in some +unexpected manner.</p> + +<p>Luckily, Dr. Macpherson, time-expired and +pensioned, was on board, and in him she had +a sympathetic friend also who was a skilled +observer. He concurred with her that repression +or secrecy was not to be thought of in +connection with Karl. The boy’s insatiable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> +curiosity about ships and their ways was not +denied such information as was obtainable. +The captain, attracted one morning by his +joyous laugh, took him up to the chart-house, +showed him how to take an observation, explained +the curvature of the earth, and, finally, +made him pull the cord of the siren, thereby +summoning all hands to collision quarters for +inspection.</p> + +<p>Now, the raucous blast of the fog-horn spoke +to the youngster as the voice of the ship. It +probed boundless depths in Karl’s soul. He +heard the tremulous waves of sound speeding +over the face of the waters long after the steam +breath was dry in the whistle. He heard, +though he knew it not, the solemn echoes as +the rolling harmony was sent up from sea to +clouds and back to the sea again.</p> + +<p>And he began to “dream.” Mrs. Grier, +fearful of the outcome, would have distracted +his attention, but Dr. Macpherson, who had +never seen the boy in the actual state of exaltation, +besought her not to check him.</p> + +<p>The day passed without incident. After +dinner they were on deck, enjoying the glorious +tropical moon, “that orbèd maiden, with +white fire laden,” which some globe-trotting +impressionist has described as yellow! Macpherson, +thinking Karl’s visionary mood had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> +passed without result, pointed out such planets +as were ascendant, and added the information +that several hundreds of smaller bodies +were invisible, save to astronomers.</p> + +<p>“I can see a good many,” said Karl, instantly.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense. Those are stars,” smiled the +doctor.</p> + +<p>“No. I mean round black things, like balloons. +Some of them are shiny on one side.”</p> + +<p>“By gad!” muttered the man under his +breath. He gazed up at the glittering firmament.</p> + +<p>“That big fellow there is Jupiter,” he said. +“Can you discover anything peculiar about +him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Karl, instantly. “There are +three little dots quite near. They look like +pins stuck in a blue cloth.”</p> + +<p>“Karl, did anybody ever tell you that Jupiter +had three moons?”</p> + +<p>“I never heard of Jupiter before, but I have +often seen the three moons,” was the amazing +answer.</p> + +<p>“That is true,” interposed Mrs. Grier. “We +kept such problems from his ken.”</p> + +<p>What Dr. Macpherson might have said will +never be known. They were standing on the +port side, well forward. On a clear space aft +some light-hearted people were waltzing. In<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> +utter disobedience of the ship’s rules, a young +Armenian, scion of a great commercial house +in London and Calcutta, was sitting on the +rail. Some one cannoned against him and he +fell, yelling, into the sea.</p> + +<p>Instantly there was a hubbub of screams +and rushing feet. A cool-headed man threw +a life-buoy after the unfortunate youth, and +others shouted to the officer of the watch. +Very speedily the steamer’s way was stopped +and the engines reversed.</p> + +<p>The ship’s framework throbbed under the +agony of the giant machines thus rudely checked +in their work. British quartermasters and lithe +Lascars worked like fiends to clear a boat’s +hamper and swing out the davits. But it was +a hopeless task. Great steamers slip through +a mile of water with such rapidity, and the +course was so interfered with by reversing the +propellers, that nothing short of a miracle +would reveal the whereabouts of the hapless +Armenian, even if he still floated and retained +consciousness.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Grier—” began Macpherson.</p> + +<p>“I know what you would say,” she cried +bravely. “Yes, let Karl help, and let me try +to thank God he has the power.”</p> + +<p>Were it not for Macpherson’s great reputation +and personal popularity the captain would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> +scarcely have listened to him in that confused +moment. Even as it was, he only understood +the doctor to say that Constantine, the Armenian, +could be found, and he gave permission +in a dazed way for the man and the boy to be +seated in the boat before it was lowered.</p> + +<p>Then Macpherson had to convince a sceptical +third officer, and, greatest difficulty of all, +he had to bend Karl’s excited wits to the task +in hand, for the child was delighted with the +adventure.</p> + +<p>The plash of the oars, the stealing away of +the huge black hull of the <i>Ganges</i>, the earnest +words of Macpherson, soon had their effect. +Karl commenced to know what was expected +of him.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, standing up on a seat in his +eagerness, and pointing to a different course, +“he is there, crying out loud. He is calling +for his mother.”</p> + +<p>Not the best sailor of them all could see or +hear aught. Yet, for want of other guide, the +third officer swung round the boat’s head.</p> + +<p>Ever and anon Karl told them where the +Armenian was, and even shouted, in his shrill +treble, to encourage him.</p> + +<p>At last, after twenty minutes of strenuous +tugging, a quartermaster in the bows roared +hoarsely, “By the Lord, I can see him!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>“Of course,” chirrupped Karl. “He was +there all the time!”</p> + +<p>So a half-drowned, wholly hysterical Constantine, +clinging desperately to a buoy which +he refused to abandon, was dragged into the +boat, and Karl was restored to his weeping +mother’s arms, while strange tales ran through +the ship when the screw jogged merrily onwards +once more.</p> + +<p>That saving of Constantine meant a good +deal to Karl, as shall be seen.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br> + +<small>THE FINDING OF MAGGIE HUTCHINSON</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sir William Macpherson</span> earned his +K.C.I.E. not so much by his thirty years of Ind +as by the comparative leisure which enabled +him to write that famous essay on “Brain +Excitations.” He has told me since that the +genesis of the theory which likens man to an +induction coil came to him as the oars swung +merrily back to the <i>Ganges</i>, he striving the +while to restore the Armenian’s vitality.</p> + +<p>“Karl,” he whispered, stirred by the impulse +of the moment, “can you see your father?”</p> + +<p>The boy looked unerringly towards the north, +where Darjeeling lay, eight hundred miles distant.</p> + +<p>“No,” he said after a slight pause, “it is +dark.”</p> + +<p>“Dark?” repeated the scientist.</p> + +<p>“Yes, like a fog at night, you know.”</p> + +<p>“But there is no fog, and it was quite as +dark a few minutes since, when you saw Mr. +Constantine in the sea.”</p> + +<p>Karl seemed to focus his thoughts once more. +Then he nestled wearily close to his friend.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>“Something seems to press me back, and I +am tired,” he said.</p> + +<p>Every woman who reads this would, in all +probability, like to box Macpherson’s ears. +And, indeed, he had the good grace to be +ashamed of himself, though, if doctors did +not push individual experiments a trifle too +far occasionally, the mass of humanity would +be the worse for their caution. Nevertheless, +though he contented himself with asking the +third officer to shield the boy from the keen +surface air of the sea, his mind was busy. +Karl’s wonderful comprehension of root words +was known to him, and he felt that the expressions +“dark,” “fog,” “something seems to +press me back,” even the unwonted excuse of +being “tired,” were not chosen at random.</p> + +<p>Then he remembered how a friend had taken +him once, when home on furlough, to witness +certain telephonic tests conducted by the Post-office +engineers at St. Martin’s-le-Grand. An +instrument was affixed to an appliance which +registered 10,000, 15,000, 20,000 miles of resistance +at will, for such high tensions are +needed when sea-cables are laid. It was instructive +to hear the same human voice dying +away as the conductivity of the wire decreased. +Again, he happened to be present when the +Indo-European Telegraph Company carried out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> +their famous experiment, and actually linked +a transmitter in Paris with a receiver in Calcutta. +As far away as Teheran the action of +the electric indicator was sharp and distinct, +but from Constantinople westwards through +Vienna the current became sluggish, until the +supreme effort of Paris required slow and careful +manipulation ere the message emerged +from chaos.</p> + +<p>Here were unfailing indications of what +Karl meant by “pressing back” and “tired.” +But what was the significance of the darkness, +the fog? Suddenly Macpherson asked himself:</p> + +<p>“What was the force which fought against +the thousands of miles of telegraph wire? +Suppose there was no wire? Yet the force remained!”</p> + +<p>It came to him that the child cast his bright +intelligence forth in ever-spreading Hertzian +waves, and that his perceptive powers diminished +with distance, on the well-established +ratio of the decrease of sound as the circle +widens and air-waves lengthen with slower +movement. Moreover, the apparent difficulty +of reconciling his instant discovery of planets +known only to astronomers with his inability +to penetrate deeply the gloom of earth vanished +when the lateral density of the air mantle +was taken into account. To see the three<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> +moons of Jupiter! That was a marvel in itself. +Strangely enough, Du Maurier, an artist +dreamer, had attributed the power to one of +the characters in his novel <i>The Martian</i>. But +that was a phase in a spirit romance; here was +a child with eyes like telescopes and ears like +telephones.</p> + +<p>Greatly was the scientist tempted to try +Karl again on the nearer, and wholly unknown, +physical features of Colombo. But he resisted +and vigorously chafed the Armenian’s chest +and back, though, to be sure, the tenacious +clinging of the youth to the canvas buoy rendered +such massage difficult.</p> + +<p>Thenceforth, during the voyage home, Constantine +pestered Karl with a ludicrous, dog-like +fidelity. The Armenian was lean, tall, +and dark, with the big, black eyes, large mouth, +small ears, and prominent nose of his race. +Ordinarily, he was a bumptious and exceedingly +“clever” young man, the heir to crores of rupees, +and a business of world-wide renown; yet the +mere sight of Karl skipping towards him along +the deck would stop his blatant chatter and +convert him into a sort of human grey-hound, +a timid animal, which had just caught sight of +its master. This submissiveness amused the +other passengers, annoyed Mrs. Grier, and +caused Macpherson certain ponderings.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>Constantine told the doctor that when he +found himself in the water grasping the life-buoy +his first impression was that the ship +could not possibly find him. He began to cry +in a frenzy, but suddenly he became reassured. +After that he had no fear of being drowned, +but he had a horrible premonition that a huge +shark was rushing from the depths with incredible +speed to devour him. The memory +of this shark always returned whenever he saw +Karl! The monster’s jaws opened! He could +feel it crush his bones!</p> + +<p>The boy throve splendidly aboard ship. +Constantine went to England overland from +Marseilles, but he met the <i>Ganges</i> at Tilbury, +and Mrs. Grier could hardly refuse the aldermanic +gold watch and absurdly heavy chain +he presented to Karl. The watch had a fine +inscription, too: “From Paul Constantine +to Karl Grier, in memory of the s.s. <i>Ganges</i>, +Bay of Bengal, Lat. 12.10 N.; Long. 84.40 E.”</p> + +<p>There was a date, but Karl was saved from +mind-searchings by the fact that his mother +placed the gift in her bank, to await later +years.</p> + +<p>And then Karl went to school. Just picture +this sturdy little human dynamo, with his +superhuman eyes and ears, sitting down in +class with a number of youthful Edinburgh<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> +contemporaries! Yet it was impossible for his +parents to encourage the growth of his spiritual +faculties (as we may describe them) at +the expense of the equipment needed to fit +him for the citizenship of the world. So he +learnt the exact locality of the North Cape +in Lapland, the value of the common denominator, +and the great utility of the algebraic x. +And, as he pored over books, so the hidden +spark dimmed.</p> + +<p>At first he was wont to startle his companions +no less than his tutors. When a master was +explaining that the moon was a satellite of the +earth, and was popularly known as a destroyed +world, owing to the arid mountains and volcanic +chasms with which her bright face is decorated, +it was slightly ridiculous to be told by a boy of +eleven, all aglow with interest—“Oh, yes, sir. +I saw the lunar mountains quite plainly last +night. And there are several great pits as black +as ink.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, Grier!” would the master say +sharply, and Karl would be stilled for the hour. +Hence, he kept to himself the daily knowledge +he had of the hours of high water in the Forth, +many miles away.</p> + +<p>Once, by chance, the same master had arranged +to take his class on a boating excursion +up the Forth, and the question of tide arose.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> +Karl volunteered the information that the tide +would be high about three o’clock. Examined +as to his accuracy (he was a careless young dog +in matters of spelling or arithmetic) he admitted +that he had no actual knowledge save +the “feeling.”</p> + +<p>Fortunately, Mr. David Malcolm, the master, +was a man prone to take stock of the young +idea, so he wrote to Mrs. Grier, and received a +positive shock when that sensible and level-headed +woman gave him the assurance of evidence +that her son was not romancing. Indeed, +it may be assumed without fear of contradiction +that to Mr. Malcolm’s growing appreciation of +the boy’s powers was due, in great measure, +their retention. Even under his kindly sway +Karl was rapidly assimilating to the mold of +the school. Games, lessons, discipline, the +smaller issues of daily intercourse with other +boys, were coating the inner perceptiveness with +a dense membrane. Again, at this period Karl +almost lost his universal language key. Declensions +and conjugations choked intuitive +knowledge, and, to all seeming, when his father +brought him to Oxford at the age of eighteen, +young Grier was only a lively, intelligent, and +muscular undergrad—exceptionally bright, perhaps, +but in no wise the “phee-nomenon” Sir +William Macpherson had dubbed him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>But Dame Nature, not to be balked in the +development of her prodigy, arranged matters +with that happy knack of hers whereby she +cloaks design under the guise of accident.</p> + +<p>Grier had been at Oxford two years when a +menagerie visited the classical city on the Isis. +Although wild beast shows are not regarded by +the authorities as essential aids to Oxonian success, +Karl and others visited the evil-smelling +place. Now, a man will remember through his +nose and finger-tips when other more highly +trained senses fail. The first sniff of the closely +packed laager of caravans brought to Grier’s +mind a series of vivid pictures of early days in +the Himalayan foot-hills. He lost himself a +little, but his dreams were interrupted by a +scene which yielded an exciting paragraph for +next morning’s newspapers.</p> + +<p>A defective iron screen enabled a gorilla to +get at a black panther. The two beasts had a +peculiar antipathy to each other, and the showman +placed them close together for effect. Like +many another dramatist he obtained a “curtain” +he had not bargained for. Once the way +was clear, by reason of the giving way of the +corroded lattice, the animals met in Homeric +combat. It was a fine fight, but it did not last +long, for the gorilla tore the panther’s head off.</p> + +<p>The other denizens of the menagerie, aroused<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> +from lethargy by the mortal defiances hurled +forth by cat and ape, scented the battle and +spoke in strange tongues. And behold! Karl +knew what they were saying! He heard the +lion and tiger roaring “Kill!” the deer and +buffaloes shrieking “Run!” the monkey tribe +chattering “Climb, brother, and reach from +above!” Above all resounded the raging challenge +of the elephant, who, when he is stirred, is +the real master of the jungle. Whips, hay-forks, +and heavy bars of iron soon ended the disturbance. +A number of fainting women were +carried out into the fresh air, and Karl, to his +intense chagrin, for he was a great dandy in +those days, found that his nose had bled freely +during the hubbub. When Mr. Verdant Green +was “up” his friends would have asked who +had tapped his claret, but Karl’s companions +were anxious to learn the identity of the gentleman +who had “punched him on the boko!” +Youth is perennial though it may change its +idioms. It was disappointing to learn that the +gore arose from natural causes. The slaying of +the panther had evoked the boys’ fighting instincts! +Pugilism—to use the naked hands on +a foe—that was the ideal! Had not the gorilla +thought so?</p> + +<p>That night Karl found he could not sleep, so +he rose and threw wide a window. His chambers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> +overlooked the College quadrangle with its +well-kept lawn, and, in this time of high summer, +the exquisite profiles of Oxford were blended +with the soft luxuriance of the trees guarding +the peaceful precincts.</p> + +<p>Karl was now a tall and graceful young man. +A devoted follower of the favorite University +sports, he was studious withal, and his natural +bent inclined him more to the uncompromising +tenets of science than to the literature and +dogma of the classics. While following the +routine laid down by his father’s advisers, he +read deeply in the less popular branches of +knowledge. Lectures on anthropology, comparative +anatomy, philology and physics—subjects +which certainly provided a varied intellectual +pasturage—invariably counted him among +note-takers. Hence, it is not to be wondered at +if, on this particular night, he should give earnest +thought to the half-forgotten and long-disused +powers of his childhood, powers called back into +vivid existence by the roaring of a few beasts!</p> + +<p>He recalled, quite clearly, the incident in +which his friendship with little Maggie Hutchinson +figured so dramatically. Again, with the +photographic trick of memory, he conjured up +the Darjeeling valley. He saw the green slopes +dotted here and there with planters’ bungalows, +the tea-gardens, resembling gooseberry bushes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> +in the first tender shoots, the winding roads, the +tropical foliage. Yielding to a whimsical surprise +at the accuracy of his impressions, he +endeavored to reconstruct some of the incidents +of the raid, but he quickly discovered that beyond +following events in ordered sequence of +recollection he could achieve nothing outside the +range of what appeared to be a very precise +and realistic memory.</p> + +<p>“I wonder where Miss Margaret is now,” he +murmured, with a smiling glance skywards. +“She must be a demure young lady of eighteen +or thereabouts. I think my mother said she +was in Berlin, having developed a great talent +for playing the violin. Berlin! That is a long +way from Oxford, and Maggie is abed, sound +asleep, little dreaming that a young man in +England is picturing her in a Kate Greenaway +costume of fourteen years ago.”</p> + +<p>So in this fanciful mood, the notion suddenly +seized him that he would like to see Maggie +Hutchinson. What he really meant was that +he would be glad to meet her again, and exchange +juvenile reminiscences of early days in +India. It is important to insist on this point, +as his undoubted intention, or desire, when +contrasted with that which did really happen, +goes far to prove telegnomy a sense and not a +mental state.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>Remember, he fancied the girl was in Berlin +and in bed, and, being an extremely considerate +person, Karl would certainly not have wished +to disturb her, even if such a thing were sanely +possible.</p> + +<p>He thought the external light fled with exceeding +rapidity. There was an instant’s gloom, +and then he was looking at a sunlit scene. The +surroundings were quite novel to his eyes. He +seemed to be standing on a spacious veranda +of a very fine hotel. The flooring, the walls, +the pillars, were all of wood, and Karl had never +seen a hotel built of that material. Hundreds +of well-dressed people were seated around small +tables, waiters were flitting to and fro; on an +empty table near him he noticed an “engaged” +card, and even a <i>menu du diner</i> of the previous +day. (It was nearly one o’clock when he went +to the window.) Beyond a crowded lawn were +a theater, a band-stand, and a raised promenade +bordering the sea.</p> + +<p>He stared about him with the frank curiosity +of the stranger. On the right, the hotel buildings +shut off the view, but, on the left, the +veranda ran a long way. It was bounded, +apparently, by the turnstiles of a railway station, +and he read, quite distinctly, a prominent notice: +“Trains depart for New York every ten minutes +between 6 p.m. and midnight.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>Away in the distance he saw a gigantic red +brick building bearing the gilded sign “Atlantic +Hotel,” and he was about to stoop and pick up +the menu card—thinking to discover his whereabouts +by that means—when his attention was +drawn to two persons who separated themselves +from a laughing party grouped near the band-stand. +The couple, a tall, slightly-built foreign-looking +man, and a very pretty girl, whose +costume and figure alike bespoke her youth, +slowly drew nearer to the hotel veranda.</p> + +<p>Grier experienced no amazement when he +recognized in the man, Constantine, the Armenian. +The young lady was unknown to him at +first, until some gesture, accompanied with a +smile and a quick upward glance of the eyes, +recalled Mrs. Hutchinson, and he reflected that +Maggie’s mother must have looked like that +when she was eighteen.</p> + +<p>So this was Maggie herself! How extraordinary! +But what was Constantine saying that +her face should flame and her big brown eyes +survey him so scornfully. They were both +talking vehemently. In his eagerness Karl bent +forward to listen. He was inclined to step from +off the veranda and join them. Perhaps Constantine, +the Armenian, required to be kicked.</p> + +<p>At that instant he was conscious of a sharp +pain in his left hand. He was plunged into a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> +dark void, and he came to his ordinary senses +to find that he had escaped from falling through +the window into the quadrangle only because he +had pressed his left hand heavily on the top of +a pointed stick used to support some flowers in +a window-box.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br> + +<small>A CAT AND FRANK HOOPER</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> relation to the every-day affairs of life, +Karl Grier had nerves of iron, controlled by a +well-ordered brain.</p> + +<p>“As soon as I recovered my wits,” he said, +laughingly, afterwards, “I closed the window, +examined the injury to my hand, which was +painful but of little account, undressed, and went +to bed, resolutely determined to sleep. I knew +I was overwrought, and that the worst thing I +could do was to strive uselessly to read the +puzzle of the trance, or vision, I had just experienced. +I estimated that it had lasted nearly +a quarter of an hour. During those fifteen +minutes I had seemingly paid a visit to the +United States. That would suffice for one +evening. I closed my eyes, endeavored to construct +equipotential lines on an imaginary surface +containing two electrified spheres, and, as a +consequence, was soon sound asleep.”</p> + +<p>This time, be it noted, there was no sanguinary +result of the spell cast upon him. +Sir William Macpherson, in the work already +alluded to, guardedly called attention to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> +symptoms of bleeding at the nose and ears, +and came to the conclusion that Karl presented +a hitherto unrecorded phase of hypertrophy +of the brain. There were periodical +expansions of the encephalon, or, in simple +language, the nerve-cells, nerve-tubes, and the +rest of the marvelous apparatus which constitute +the mental and govern the physical +equipment of man, increased in number and +power, and, consequently, to a slight extent, +in size. All cases previously noted had revealed +deficiency of intellect. Either the skull +could not accommodate its unwieldy tenant, +or the heart could not nourish it. Grier, +exercising unknown faculties in childhood, received +the requisite nutriment without effort, +and growth was permitted by the occasional +bursting of a distended membrane.</p> + +<p>Obviously, a full scientific explanation of the +phenomenon is impossible here. Not one scientist +in ten thousand would even admit its existence, +and the few who do believe would demand +a bulky tome to set forth their reasons.</p> + +<p>Karl, untroubled by such considerations, +overslept himself, was late for chapel, and was +reprimanded for his somnolence! He retained +the liveliest impression of all that had taken +place, and, being convinced that he had seen +some well-known seaside resort in North<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> +America, invited to his rooms a young New +Yorker, who was taking a degree at Oxford. +He merely described the scene, without any +explanation of its significance, and his friend +recognized it at once.</p> + +<p>“That is Manhattan Beach,” he cried, “one +of the places where New York dines when the +weather is hot. Society goes to the Beach, +the crowd to Coney Island. They are not far +apart, as the crow flies, but miles asunder in +every other respect. Say, I thought you had +never been to the States?”</p> + +<p>“Nor have I, to my present knowledge,” +said Karl with a smile. “I have, so to speak, +constructed the picture, by force of imagination, +let us say.”</p> + +<p>“I congratulate you. Personally, I never +fail to ‘construct’ places I have not seen, but +I find invariably that the reality differs from +the conception as greatly—well, as radically +as my version of that cat’s plaintive remarks +might differ from their true inwardness.”</p> + +<p>It was night again, and the two were sitting +near the open window. Somewhere beneath in +the quad a seemingly disconsolate feline was +mewing its aspirations. There was a moment’s +silence while they listened, the American blithely +unconscious that he had done aught save utter +a harmless pleasantry.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>“Tell me what you think the cat is saying,” +said Karl, quietly.</p> + +<p>“I am not strong on cat,” was the reply. +“Like Lord Roberts, I detest the whole tribe. +Away back in the origin of species I must have +an affinity with either the cat’s mortal enemy, +or its prey. But, as a guess, I should credit +puss with remarking that he, or she, is waiting +in the gy-arden ne-ow. ‘It’s a fine ne-ight; +oh, won’t ye-ou come over the we-all,’ is my +version.”</p> + +<p>Your true American can do that sort of +thing and preserve the face of a sphinx. +His natural drawl lent an adroit buffoonery +to his joke. He had not the least notion that +his friend was speaking in earnest. But he +pricked his ears, metaphorically, when Grier +said, beginning in a low monotone, but ending +excitedly:</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken. That cat is using a +chant of defiance. It is old as the hills, the +product of the wind-mutterings of storm and +the crash of thunder. Listen:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">Who art thou who seest with fire, snake-creeping among the bushes?</div> +<div class="verse">Think not thou art hidden.</div> +<div class="verse">I also have eyes of flame. Beware!</div> +<div class="verse">I am young and strong; I can bite and tear.</div> +<div class="verse">I spring far to conquest.</div> +<div class="verse">My claws are sharp.</div> +<div class="verse">Fly, ere I rend thee!</div> +<div class="verse">Comest thou yet? Kill then, kill!”</div> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>As the concluding words rang through the +room there came from without the spitting and +snarling of a pair of frenzied cats. There was +a rush and a scurry, and all was still.</p> + +<p>The American leaped to his feet with a somewhat +hysterical laugh.</p> + +<p>“Say, Grier,” he cried, “that’s one against +me. But how, in the name of the father of all +cats, did you manage to wind up your epic of +the Tertiary Period at the exact moment the +fur began to fly?”</p> + +<p>“Sit down, please. I am translating freely, +but accurately enough. Animals contrive to +enfold many parts of speech in a single +sound.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to tell me you <i>understood</i> +that cat’s mewing?”</p> + +<p>“I—I think so.”</p> + +<p>“Your thinking is uncommonly realistic.”</p> + +<p>“Try to credit me, Hooper. I am not +romancing. Somewhere at the back of my +head I have a language code which explains +these things. If Max Müller can declare with +conviction that every thought which ever passed +through a human brain may be expressed in +one hundred and twenty-one radical concepts, +if the earth and the heavens can be composed +of sixty chemical substances, surely it is not +outrageously impossible for a lower animal<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> +organism to contrive a large vocabulary out of +a few elementary sounds?”</p> + +<p>Hooper produced a cigar.</p> + +<p>“This requires profound smoke,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I want help,” murmured Karl. “Criticize +and question as much as you like, but scoffing +will serve no purpose.”</p> + +<p>“The deuce a scoff. I am far too interested. +To begin at the beginning: What is the cat, +or cattish, for ‘seeing with fire,’ and ‘snake-creeping,’ +both exceedingly apt phrases, by +the way?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you. I only know that these +are handy symbols of root-ideas. Musicians +would comprehend a mental condition of definite +thought without syllabic form. Mendelssohn +wrote: ‘It is exactly at that moment +when language is unable to voice the experiences +of the soul that the vocation of music +opens to us; if all that passes in us were capable +of expression in words I should write no more +music.’ Wagner goes to the extreme of assigning +a measured musical phrase to a given idea. +Were I not deficient in the parrot’s skill of +sound-reproduction, I could most certainly converse, +in crude suggestion, with many animals. +What is speech? Merely the trick of conveying +ideas by articulate sounds. Can it be +affirmed that man alone is gifted with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> +power? I once heard a gamekeeper calling +a corn-crake by using a little mechanical instrument. +The bird came, in response to the +fancied cry of its mate. It was shot for its +credulity. Were my vocal cords differently +shaped I could have warned it against danger. +Is not that speech?”</p> + +<p>“Unless I am greatly mistaken, you are expounding +a new thesis of life, Grier,” said the +American. “Is there any limit? Do you go +down the scale? How about insects, reptiles, +fishes?”</p> + +<p>Karl paused a little while. “Would that I +might answer!” he cried at last. “Who am I +that I should add unknown words to the sparse +total which serves human needs? Think what +it means, that list of Müller’s! Six score root-ideas, +from which we have named 245,000 +species of living animals, classified nearly +100,000 fossils, produced the works of Shakespeare +and Milton! Yet I swear to you that +many a time, in India, lying awake and listening +to the croaking of innumerable frogs, I +could distinguish the one final shriek of agony +of a frog seized by a snake from the million-voiced +chorus of its fellows.”</p> + +<p>“Are these unknown languages always recognizable? +If a dog yelps because he has been +booted, do you hear him say: ‘Stop that,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> +you two-legged ruffian! What have I done, +I should like to know?’ If so, you must have +a lively time of it at a cattle-fair, for instance.”</p> + +<p>Karl laughed. He rose, pulled down the +blind, and switched on the electric light.</p> + +<p>“I am quite serious,” protested his friend. +“For goodness’ sake don’t be vexed if my questions +seem idiotic. When I came here to-night +I did not expect you to play ‘Hail Columbia’ +with all my preconceived notions.”</p> + +<p>“Vexed! Why should I be vexed with so +strenuous a listener? No, I do not gather up +all these animal utterances, else I should go +mad. The exercise of my peculiar faculties +requires effort. I am like a loaded camera. +To take a picture I must raise the shutter.”</p> + +<p>“You speak in the plural. Was your description +of Manhattan Beach based on some +other intuition?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. If you care to listen I will tell you +some strange things. But first I must have +your pledge of inviolable secrecy.”</p> + +<p>Hooper gave ready assurance, and Karl acquainted +him with a good many, substantially +all the main points, of the facts I have previously +recorded.</p> + +<p>The American was shrewd and precise. He +was studying Roman Law and Jurisprudence at +the English University, his avowed object being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> +to devote his life to the codification of his own +country’s laws. Therefore, among the young +men of his college, Karl could have found none +of quicker and clearer perceptiveness.</p> + +<p>When the recital reached the previous night’s +inexplicable events he checked each item as +though it were a section of a statute.</p> + +<p>“There is one feature of your unparalleled +experiences which stands out in bold relief,” he +commented, at the close of Grier’s story. “You +can see and hear only that which is taking place +at the precise moment of your trance, as we +shall call it. You can look into neither the past +nor the future. Last night, allowing for a +difference of five hours, you actually saw people +dining and listening to the band at Manhattan +Beach. It is noteworthy that you saw only, and +did not hear. Yet you heard the Armenian +yelling for help when he was a mile from the +ship. The deduction is obvious. The electric +waves, or whatever they are, which convey impressions +to your brain, follow the known laws +of the transmission of light and sound. If I +were poetically inclined, I might put it that you +can see the spheres but you cannot hear their +music. Now, I am going to ask you, straight +out, if you will oblige me by ringing up that +young lady again.”</p> + +<p>“Now?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>“Right now. It is not far from the same +hour.”</p> + +<p>“I will try,” said Karl, simply.</p> + +<p>In order to reproduce kindred conditions he +extinguished the light, raised the blind and the +window, and looked out.</p> + +<p>“Last night,” he said, “I nearly fell into the +quad in my excitement.”</p> + +<p>“No fear of that unless I fall too,” was the +emphatic reply.</p> + +<p>Karl focused his thoughts on Maggie Hutchinson. +He found it easy to follow the trend +of circumstances which led up to the vision of +the preceding day. Soon there came the now +almost familiar darkening of the air and the +instantaneous disappearance of surrounding objects, +to be succeeded by a well-defined view of +a somewhat dimly lighted but spacious apartment. +It was a very large room, with an unusually +low ceiling, but the decorations, carpets, +panels, and queer little windows were fashioned +or conceived with much taste. At the farther +end was a grand piano. In the center of the +floor was a sunken space, guarded by rails. +Seated on a sort of divan which ran round the +walls were a great many ladies and some half-dozen +gentlemen. They were reading, talking, +or lying comfortably ensconced in cushions. +But the odd thing was that the room and its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> +inhabitants absolutely defied the law of gravity. +No earthquake that ever shook the globe could +make a house sway in such fashion without +causing irretrievable ruin.</p> + +<p>Yet the people in this uncanny apartment +appeared to be in no wise disturbed by its vagaries, +and, most amazing thing of all, when any +individual crossed the room, or entered, or +quitted it, he or she walked with a ridiculous +disregard for either the changing angles of +the room or Newton’s theory. So astonished +was Karl by the spectacle that it took him a +long time to realize that he was looking at the +saloon drawing-room of a big Atlantic liner, +which was evidently ploughing through a stiff +gale. He saw the ship’s name, the <i>Merlin</i>, on +a printed notice swinging on the wall, and he +laughed so heartily at the antics of a fat man +who essayed to carry a shawl to a lady on the +opposite side of the vessel, that he regained his +wits to find Hooper holding his arm and eagerly +demanding:</p> + +<p>“Well, what have you seen? Why are you +laughing?”</p> + +<p>Grier, not bewildered in the slightest degree +by the sudden transition from the saloon of an +ocean-going steamship to his chambers in an +Oxford College, told his attentive friend what +had transpired.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>Like every up-to-date American, Hooper knew +most of the great liners, and kept track of their +sailings. An Englishman drops a letter into the +pillar-box and trusts to Heaven and the Postmaster-General +that it will reach its destination, +but the average New Yorker would wonder what +was wrong with him if he could not follow the +missive by sea and rail, with precise details of +the journey from start to finish.</p> + +<p>So Hooper ejaculated: “The <i>Merlin</i>! Great +Scott! She sailed from New York to-day. +Was the girl on board?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” admitted Karl. “I did not +even look for her, so greatly was I mystified by +the wobbliness of everything.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess we’ve done enough for one +<i>séance</i>,” said the other. “I’ve read and heard +of some top-notch clairvoyants, but I give you +best. To-morrow evening, after Hall, I shall +have the tangle a bit less knotted, if pen and +paper will follow its twists. You were away +somewhere for nearly twenty minutes, your eyes +were closed, and you reeled so that I thought +you would have fallen. Guess you felt the deck +heaving! But, say, old man, do you sleep well +after this kind of circus?”</p> + +<p>“Sleep! I sleep like a healthy navvy!” said +Karl.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br> + +<small>KARL’S FIRST MEETING WITH STEINDAL</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hooper</span> turned up next evening armed with +a note-book.</p> + +<p>“I did not go to bed until long after sunrise,” +he said. “When I began to marshal my thoughts +into some semblance of order, I was amazed to +find how far back into the twilight of human +origins you carried me with your cat language. +Has it ever struck you how old this world is, +how long men have waited before they took +their first sure step towards knowledge?”</p> + +<p>“Are you speaking of the evolution of matter +in general, or of mankind in particular?” asked +Grier.</p> + +<p>“Of our noble selves, to be sure. Geologically, +there is practically no limit backward, but +we have been so fed up on individualism that +we are only now beginning to abandon useless +speculations as to the eternity of the future for +a more definite study of the eternity of the past. +Now you, with your animal language and your +genuine far-seeing, have cleared the mist from +a theory I have held nebulously for a year or +more. Let me state it in progressive theses:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> +(<i>a</i>) Human inventiveness is bounded only by +the zone of human intelligence; (<i>b</i>) the capacity +of the brain extends far beyond our present +scientific comprehension; (<i>c</i>) every new discovery +is, therefore, a mere quickening into activity of +some special attribute latent in all properly regulated +brains; (<i>d</i>) a time may come when man +shall know all things, as nothing can happen, +nor can have happened, which the brain is not +capable of conceiving.”</p> + +<p>“An old Indian acquaintance, Sir William +Macpherson, has told me that he has reached +a similar conclusion. Nevertheless, your theorizing +vaults a long way in advance of my +experiences.”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it. You are merely a living +testimony of faculties either undeveloped or +deemed dead owing to disuse. Oddly enough, +you, my friend, possess powers which we modern +degenerates—beef-fed and stodgy with misapplied +civilization—coolly relegate to the +lower animals or, at the best, to savage tribes. +Watch cattle in a field, birds in the air—are +they not skilled weather prophets, far more +reliable than any Meteorological Bureau? They +don’t tap a glass cylinder of mercury or write +learnedly about cirrus clouds and convex cumuli. +No, the cows and horses just nibble the grass +on the exposed hills, the birds skate about unconcernedly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> +if the advancing gloom simply +heralds a passing shower; but see them all +scoot for shelter before ever a leaf is stirred +if a real storm is about to break. That +is pure, undiluted, unquestioning knowledge. +The power of transmitting news instantly over +long distances, possessed by certain human +nomads, is of the same type. Therefore, my +dear Karl, you hark back in the centuries. +You are away down the social scale. I, an +up-to-date demigod, to whom the real meaning +of nearly every word I use is unknown, +tell you this unblushingly.”</p> + +<p>“Is that a part of your theory that the world +is still in its infancy in its search after truth?”</p> + +<p>“Well hit, my prehistoric man, my vitalized +fossil. You are old as many of the hills. Oh, +if only I could put a date on you! Say, have +you ever heard of Eridhu?”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean the Chaldean city?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Well, six thousand years ago it was +a seaport, and the sanctuary of the Chaldean +god, Eâ. Now, it is a dust-heap, miles inland. +A friend of mine, sorting among the rubbish +last year, found a tomb. The gentleman +buried therein must have been an Akkadian +antiquary, who hated, even in death, to be +parted from his treasures, because the brick +vault containing his remains also held a variety<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> +of objects several thousand years older than +himself.”</p> + +<p>“Are the facts quite clear?”</p> + +<p>“Clear. Just listen to the evidence. You, +as a bloated Britisher, are aware, no doubt, +that the year when it first attained the dignity +of record began with the vernal equinox, and +the opening month was named after the ‘propitious +Bull’? Thus, Bull headed the twelve +constellations of the zodiac, and was quite +an important character. Well, in the tomb +aforesaid, the excavators found a small stone +urn, bearing, not Taurus, the Bull’s sign, but +Aquarius, the water-carrier. The sun, at the +vernal equinox, has been in Aries since 2,500 +<span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span>, and it first entered Taurus somewhere +about 4,700 <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span> Lots of centuries must have +been passed in observation before the astrologers +formed the calendar we use to-day, so the +urn could claim, at the very least, a venerable +antiquity, unless it was a hoary Chaldean +hoax. There is a good reason to believe it +was anything but a joke. It was brought to +Washington, eagerly examined by a gathering +of archæologists, and dropped by some trembling +enthusiast on to a marble floor.”</p> + +<p>“Good gracious!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the finder said something like that. +Indeed, his language was even more fluent.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> +Yet the accident led to a discovery. The +shattered urn consisted of two vessels, one +within the other. Between the two was a +thin slip of ivory, and on this was a cuneiform +inscription, with a lively drawing showing +how one gentleman hammered a big nail into +another gentleman’s skull.”</p> + +<p>“Do you propose to treat me in that way?”</p> + +<p>“I have reached my point now. That record +of a crime, probably a murder of revenge, was +kept secret for at least 7,000 years, and only +Schliemann or Haynes could tell us how much +longer. So your peculiarly constituted brain, +my friend, has gone on repeating itself through +many a forgotten ancestor until the accident +of environment enabled its hidden recesses to +burst their bonds. It took a great many clever +men a great many years to decipher the cuneiform +characters of the Akkadians, and you +will probably be dead long before some genius +yet unborn tells an anxious world why you can +see things that are taking place at a distance +of over three thousand miles. Meanwhile, behold +in me your patient observer and chronicler. +To-night—”</p> + +<p>“To-night we shall talk and smoke, and +pursue vain conceits,” said Karl, determinedly. +“I think I ought to forego these glimpses into +the void. They are unpleasing in many ways.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> +Of what personal benefit is this unusual gift? +I wish to qualify myself for a commercial +career, and the only practical use of such escapades +as those of the two preceding nights +is somewhat in the detective line. I mean to +resist the impulse for the future.”</p> + +<p>“Now you are indulging in banalities. You +can no more resist the occasional use of your +splendid gifts than a duckling reared by a hen +could hold back from a pond. And do you +really think that I have written twenty pages +of notes merely to fool away three hours? +I guess Maggie can’t be a nice girl, or it’s a +sure thing you would want to see her again.”</p> + +<p>Karl smiled, and a very charming way he +had of revealing his white teeth with the kindliest +and most good-natured expression of +genuine fun.</p> + +<p>“Even if you are smugging at law, Frank,” +he said, “you should spare your friends the +tricks of counsel. You fancy, and probably +your belief is justified, that if I allow my mind +to dwell on Miss Hutchinson’s appearance, +such as I have recently discovered it to be, I +shall wander off hopelessly across the ocean +to find her. I am sorry to disappoint you, but +I am firm in my resolution to discourage these +influences as much as possible.”</p> + +<p>Hooper sighed. He put away his note-book<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> +and viciously bit the end off a green cigar, +a feat by no means so easy as the smokers of +British dry weeds may imagine.</p> + +<p>“Then let us talk of ships and kings and +sealing-wax,” he growled. “I am rather strong +on ancient Egypt. Would you like to hear +my views on Ka?”</p> + +<p>Hooper was speaking with careless sarcasm. +He was grievously annoyed that Grier should +cut off a highly interesting experiment in such +a summary fashion. Yet there is an unconscious +art which is superior to all intent, and +Hooper had blundered on to a question which +set his hearer’s mind in a whirl.</p> + +<p>“Ka!” he said softly. “Surely that is what +we call the soul? It is animism, the shadowy +second self evoked from dreams. Yes, that is a +root word, direct from the earliest mint. Man, +in his first speech, described Ka.”</p> + +<p>The American veiled the joy in his eyes by +a cloud of smoke.</p> + +<p>“If I can only plunk him near the window +now, he will switch on to Maggie with a jerk,” +was the ready reflection. But the “plunking,” +whatever it may mean—for your good American, +when not undergoing the embalming +process which finally fits him for Paris, can +coin words at will—was not necessary. Karl, +without effort or volition, passed through the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> +umbra which separated his known senses from +the sway of their unknown congener. He +leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and +was forthwith, to all appearance, sleeping +lightly.</p> + +<p>Hooper, whose nostrils quivered with repressed +excitement, flung away his cigar and +applied himself to the task of recording all +external physical indications of the emotions +his companion might be experiencing. It will +be remembered that this trance-like condition +was usually preceded by some slight disturbance +of the blood-vessels infringing on or +adjacent to the brain. There was no such +sign of cerebral disorder on this occasion. +Karl seemed to have yielded to a desire for a +pleasant and refreshing doze.</p> + +<p>Again, when he saw Maggie Hutchinson and +the Armenian at Manhattan Beach, he had endeavored +to approach nearer to them, and was +only prevented by the fortunate interposition of +a window-ledge and a stick stuck in a flower-pot, +while his temporary flight to the storm-tossed +saloon of the <i>Merlin</i> had caused him to sway in +Hooper’s arms. To-night he sat immovable, +though he witnessed a series of really remarkable +events, the sight or hearing of which would +assuredly have evoked some reflex action or cry +during any of his earlier manifestations.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>Luckily, there was present, in the young +American, a sympathetic watcher, who, notwithstanding +his comparative youth, had all the +coolness and critical acumen of a hardened investigator. +Hooper, true to his own theory, was +convinced that he was assisting in the development +of a hitherto unsuspected function in man’s +brain. He knew that the obscure sum of influences +we call heredity affects the adult man +in a surprisingly small traceable degree as compared +with education. If it were possible to +leave an infant, born of civilized parents, wholly +to its own devices, what direct characteristics of +human ancestry would it exhibit? It would +possess no articulate language, its knowledge +would not extend beyond the limited recognition +of a few articles of food, its reasoning faculties +would be a blank, its highly convoluted brain a +storehouse of potentialities as hidden as the +wonder of its nervous system or the chemical +building of its tissue. In a word, a child which, +under tuition, might become the discoverer of a +new province in human thought, would sink +instantly to the condition of palæolithic man. +Let the key be lost which should unlock the +treasury, and untold ages of horror and suffering, +of seemingly endless and unavailing effort, +must be endured ere it could be found again. +Yet the treasure was there intact, as surely pent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> +within the protoplasmic ovum as displayed in +all its splendor on the printed page of the world-convincing +treatise. That was the great miracle +of nature, and Hooper asked himself what +phase of her manifold powers was now unfolding +itself before his intent yet uncomprehending +eyes.</p> + +<p>He knew that mankind to-day can produce, +in facsimile, types of ancestors found in pliocene +strata at least 500,000 years old. Stone knives +alone could make the intentional cuts found on +the ribs of a cetacean stranded on the shore of +the pliocene sea, and what that meant to a prehistoric +tribe is clearly shown by Lord Avebury’s +(Sir John Lubbock’s) summary of a description +by Captain Grey of a recent whale feast in +Australia:</p> + +<p>“When a whale is washed ashore it is a real +godsend to them (the aborigines). Fires are lit +to give notice of the joyful event. They rub +themselves all over with blubber and anoint +their favorite wives in the same way. Then +they cut down through the blubber to the beef, +which they eat raw or broil on pointed sticks. +As other natives arrive they ‘fairly eat their +way into the whale, and you see them climbing +in and about the stinking carcase, choosing +tit-bits.... There is no sight in the world +more revolting than to see a young and gracefully<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> +formed girl stepping out of the interior of +a putrid whale.’”</p> + +<p>Hooper had plenty of time to let his imagination +run riot in this wise. The light fell on +Grier’s face, but the watcher looked in vain for +any indication of the sights or sounds in which +the sleeper was participating. Karl, to outward +semblance, might be either really asleep or +brought to muscular rigidity by the influence of +an anæsthetic. He was calm, unmoved, the lips +slightly parted, with healthy color, and an easy +rise and fall of the chest.</p> + +<p>This late sitting broke the stringent college +rules, but Hooper cared little for penal ordinances. +Yet even he grew anxious when Karl +failed to arouse himself after an hour had passed +in utter silence. He was very reluctant to disturb +his comrade. This present flight through +space promised to transcend its predecessors in +the prolonged sequence of its events. Nevertheless, +there was a limit to his friend’s endurance +if not to his own.</p> + +<p>When the expiration of another fifteen minutes +revealed no sign of Grier’s return to consciousness, +Hooper did not think he was justified in +permitting the trance to continue indefinitely +without assuring himself, at any rate, that +Grier’s pulse was normal and his heart beating +regularly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>He stooped and caught Karl’s wrist gently. +He noticed that the breathing was slow and +measured, and he had just succeeded in +detecting the pulse when Karl opened his +eyes.</p> + +<p>He gave one surprised, almost bewildered +glance at Hooper, laughed cheerfully when he +looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, and +said, in the most matter-of-fact way:</p> + +<p>“Have you ever heard of a man named +Steindal in New York?”</p> + +<p>“Y—yes.” Hooper nearly stammered, he +was so taken aback by the curiously commonplace +question.</p> + +<p>“Is he connected with the stage?” went on +Karl, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, in a sense. He is a dramatic agent, I +think.”</p> + +<p>“He is unquestionably a dramatic scoundrel. +Why did you interfere? At the very moment I +quitted him he was giving his own precious +character to Constantine. Never mind! I will +find the rascal and beat him to a jelly.”</p> + +<p>“Bully for you! Things have happened, then?”</p> + +<p>“My dear Frank, I have not only seen but +<i>heard</i>. Think what it means! Three thousand +miles of wireless telephony! And what a first-rate +brute that fellow Steindal is!”</p> + +<p>“A regular son of a gun, I have no doubt.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> +But say. I thought you had rung up Maggie +Hutchinson?”</p> + +<p>“I did not see her, thank Heaven, but I +heard so much concerning her that I shall make +it my business to meet the <i>Merlin</i> at Liverpool +and warn her against that pair of beauties in +New York.”</p> + +<p>Hooper selected a fresh and extra green cigar.</p> + +<p>“Now, indeed, I can smoke the calumet of +peace while you talk,” he said, curling up in an +easy chair with the comfortable <i>abandon</i> of one +who has faithfully kept a long vigil.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br> + +<small>IN WHICH CONSTANTINE HAS A VISION</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Although</span> he had not the slightest difficulty +in recounting the precise phrases of conversations +and the exact details of actions which had +their habitat in New York during the previous +hour and a quarter, Karl did unquestionably +feel the need of choosing his words when he +began to tell Hooper how a new and wholly +entrancing phase of his extraordinary powers was +opened up by the discovery that mere distance +no longer diminished his sense of hearing. It +was so vitally important to be accurate. First +impressions are of prime value in describing a +sensation. If a man only retained his first impression +of the taste of alcohol what a sober +world it would be!</p> + +<p>When his conscious intelligence quitted the +room in which he and Hooper were sitting, he +had no fixed objective in his mind. This fresh +departure was noteworthy, and, indeed, absolutely +essential to the theory propounded by +Sir William Macpherson, namely, that Karl was +a living installation of wireless telegraphy. If<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> +this rough-and-ready definition of the phenomenon +were reasonably correct, it was essential +that the human “station” should have the power +of receiving as well as transmitting the electrical +influences which called into activity its sixth +sense. Hitherto Grier had, so to speak, swept +the mental horizon with a searchlight, hoping +or expecting to find the object he sought. Now, +in a state of quiescence, yet tuned to the proper +pitch by the sound of one of those strong, deep +words which vibrate back to the twilight of +human origins, he was encountered by another +radio-active force, and became, for a time, a +machine-like recorder of impressions.</p> + +<p>After the familiar passing through darkness +into light—this momentary eclipse being apparently +a mechanical readjustment of the normal +functions of the brain to their novel requirements—he +found himself a spectator of a meeting +between two men, a meeting which was seemingly +taking place in a second-floor office overlooking +the junction of two busy thoroughfares.</p> + +<p>He could hear nothing. He was in the +position of an audience watching the cinematographic +representation of an express train thundering +through a station—there was all the +realism of life and motion, but no sound. In +his case, of course, there were the added illusions +of color and sunlight, nor was the vision<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> +distracted by perplexing flutterings of a winding +film.</p> + +<p>One of the men was Constantine, tall, sallow-faced, +dark-eyed, habited in evening dress, but +showing an Oriental love of display by the pair +of diamond studs blazing in his shirt-front, the +thrilling design of his brocade waistcoat, and +the braid, two inches wide, which seamed his +trousers. His companion, also attired in the +garb abhorred by George Bernard Shaw, was, +in all save his un-American aspect (both men +being unmistakably “aliens”) the exact antithesis +of Constantine. A short, tubby man, the +product, it appeared, of a Polish-Jew father and +a Mexican half-caste mother, he might be likened +to a human olive. He was so round, so greeny-bronze +in complexion, that Karl, summing him +up afterwards, said:</p> + +<p>“When I meet him, I shall half expect to +see him preserved in vinegar inside a bottle +with a flamboyant label.”</p> + +<p>The two were discussing a matter of grave +interest, judging by their faces. Karl made a +sub-conscious effort to listen to what they were +saying, but it failed, though he subsequently +recalled a faint knowledge of vague sounds, +as though he were endeavoring to hear through +thick glass.</p> + +<p>The room was sumptuously furnished. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> +walls were decorated with photographs, large +and small, of gentlemen with wide and expressive +mouths and abundant hair, and of ladies +with goo-goo eyes and even more abundant +hair, wearing picture hats for the most part. +Several framed letters, either typewritten or +hugely scrawled, were crowded together over +the fireplace, and they set forth in unguarded +terms the varied excellences of “Dear Steindal,” +or “Mr. Wilhelm Steindal,” or “Wilhelm +Steindal, Esq.” Through the open windows +Karl saw electric cars hurrying to and fro +beneath, the bright steel rails commanding a +clear center of the street, while the general +traffic was made up of light trolleys, delivery +vans and bicycles, with hardly ever a cab or +private carriage. On two sides of a diminutive +street lamp he read “Broadway” and +“W. 22d St.,” so he assumed that he had, +for some occult reason, found his way to New +York.</p> + +<p>His attention was caught by the flush of +anger on Constantine’s face. The Armenian +emphasized his comment with a passionate +thump of his clenched fist on the table. Steindal, +if the fat man were the recipient of those +flattering letters, seemed to be expostulating. +After some argument, in which Constantine +was apparently brought round to the other’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> +view, the olive-skinned person stretched out a +pulpy hand for a code book, which he consulted, +and framed a message.</p> + +<p>And now, for the first time to his adult +knowledge, Karl <i>purposely changed his position</i> +without interrupting his sight of events +in the least degree. That is to say, his experiments +of the two previous nights had the aspect +of a very vivid dream, but, on this occasion, +he acted as if he had the power of physical +movement. When he saw Maggie Hutchinson +at Manhattan Beach he endeavored to +“stoop” over the hotel table, and also to “step +off” the veranda on to the grass lawn beyond, +but he succeeded in neither instance.</p> + +<p>To-day, except that his body was in Oxford, +he fancied he had complete liberty of movement +in New York.</p> + +<p>So he passed behind Constantine’s companion, +looked over his shoulder, and read +what he had written. The words “Margaret +Hutchinson” stood out clearly from a jumble +of nonsense. Karl had never used a code, +and the meaningless nature of the script puzzled +him until he saw that the writer had jotted +down sentences opposite each word on a separate +sheet of paper. Perusal of this key soon +made the message coherent. It read:</p> + +<p>“Meet the <i>Merlin</i> on arrival at Liverpool<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> +on the 10th inst. Offer Miss Margaret Hutchinson +star concert at St. James’s Hall in my name, +and promise her prolonged engagement on good +terms for exclusive contract, Steindal.”</p> + +<p>There was an evil leer on Steindal’s face +when he read the draft to Constantine, and +the unpleasant smile with which the latter +showed his curt approval warned Grier that +an ulterior purpose lay behind an offer which, +under ordinary circumstances, should prove +very acceptable to any girl at the outset of a +professional career. Karl was eager to learn +more of the compact into which these two had +entered, but, strive as he might, he could only +distinguish certain faint, quick, vibrating noises +which had a vague resemblance to taps on a +cymbal. He did not realize, until later, that +he was, even then, extending his range of hearing, +and the sounds he caught were the clanging +bells of the street-cars!</p> + +<p>Steindal summoned an assistant, gave him +the cablegram, with instructions, and Constantine +and he, donning dust-coats, descended +to the street. It was a perfect joy to Karl to +discover that he could accompany them. They +were taken down by an elevator—which smacks +of Cork though it is pure American—and +passed out into the street.</p> + +<p>And then Karl Grier’s sixth sense took its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> +first ride on a Broadway car! Being on the +up-town track it was crowded with the latest +flight of business people.</p> + +<p>“Did the conductor take your fare and ring +you up on the indicator? Anyhow, he would +say things if you tried to work in a sixpence +for a dime,” cried Hooper, when Karl reached +this part of his story; and the spirit passenger +confessed to a singular dread of being in the +way of the men and women who were standing +between the seats and clinging on to the straps.</p> + +<p>This was a somewhat remarkable instance +of a mental record of a purely physical sensation. +Once he began to roam about during +his trances he had to learn that matter and +space did not exist for him in their every-day +acceptance.</p> + +<p>The car swung round a curve into Madison +Square, crossed 23d Street, swept past a number +of fine hotels, shops, newspaper offices, +and theaters, passed under a section of the +elevated railway, and clanged its rapid way +towards newer New York.</p> + +<p>At last Constantine and Steindal alighted +opposite a spacious restaurant, and Grier, +being a ghost of quick perception, saw that even +a rich man like the Armenian would use the +street-car in preference to a brougham, because +it was much safer and twice as speedy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>He went with the pair up the steps of the +restaurant and noted the deferential smirk +of the head waiter. Nothing would have pleased +him more than to play some prank on this +flunky, but the means did not exist, so he +perforce rested content with a careful scrutiny +of his surroundings. In another week or two +the patrons of this fashionable eating-house +would be scattered over the cooler parts of the +earth. Already the attendance was thin, but +there were sufficient diners to warrant the +cosmopolitan claims of America’s chief city.</p> + +<p>All speculation on this and kindred matters +was, however, suddenly extinguished by a +subtle, immensely remote, yet quite distinct +sound of harmonious music. And then, with +an exquisite delight that was almost painful +in its intensity, he became aware that he was +listening to the strains of a band playing one +of Strauss’s waltzes. With each few bars the +lilt of the composition became clearer, the orchestration +more defined, until he could distinguish +the violins, the piano, the piccolo, +and, finally, the clarionets.</p> + +<p>His brain reeled under the intensity of this +new emotion, and there was some danger that +he might react into physical consciousness, had +not a voice whispered, at exceedingly close +quarters:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>“Dot <i>schwein-hund</i> Steindal says we cahnd +gook a <i>poulet en casserole</i> worth a cent.”</p> + +<p>It was the deferential head waiter murmuring +confidences to the manager!</p> + +<p>So the music had bridged the void! He +could hear as well as see across the Atlantic! +Again had that strange gift of language prepared +the way for the exercise of an unknown +faculty. Rhythm, singing, those inarticulate +sounds which Noiré calls <i>clamor concomitans</i>, +were the first utterances of primitive man when +working in concert. Every savage race sings +and dances, whether in peace or war. Uncivilized +men work best when they can sing. +In olden days soldiers sang as they marched +against the enemy, and civilization has only +substituted the bugles and drums for the songs.</p> + +<p>Beyond all question the unfettered exercise +of Karl’s additional sense, that marvelous +adjunct whereby his visual and auricular nerves +annihilated distance, arose from the chance +that an orchestra, mainly consisting of stringed +instruments, struck up a measured cadence +at a moment when Karl was actually straining +his faculties to obtain some more precise notion +of all that was taking place.</p> + +<p>And now Grier, who was somewhat in the +position of an operator controlling some rarely +sensitive electrical apparatus, learnt that he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> +must focus the instrument with delicate precision +if he were to avoid confusion. So he bent his +attention on the pair at the table, seated himself +metaphorically astride the iced cantaloup which +decorated the center of their board, and gathered +in each word they uttered, with the added zest +of seeing the wary glances, the twitching nostrils, +the drawn lips.</p> + +<p>Steindal had ordered a meal with the air of a +connoisseur. That he had not exercised much +tact in conveying his wants to the head waiter +has been proved by the latter’s private opinion +whispered in New York and overheard in +Oxford.</p> + +<p>But Constantine merely toyed with the banquet, +and his nervous state of preoccupation +only increased as the champagne rose to his +head.</p> + +<p>“I believe that girl will bring me bad luck,” +was the first connected phrase he uttered which +Karl could associate with Maggie Hutchinson’s +personality, granted that she was the unseen +attraction drawing him across the Atlantic. +How well he remembered the Armenian’s voice, +though a decade had passed since the last time +he had heard it on board the P. & O. steamship +<i>Ganges</i>, in Tilbury Dock, when Constantine gave +him a gold watch and chain. The watch was +ticking in his waistcoat pocket at that very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> +moment, but the chain, being of a size that +provoked caustic undergraduate humor, lay in a +drawer.</p> + +<p>“Bad luck! There’s no such thing, <i>amigo +mio</i>! Bad management? Yes, it abounds, +but, where women are concerned, I flatter myself +that I know the sex. Fair, frail, and fickle, +dark, deep, and <i>da capo</i>—that’s how I classify +’em.”</p> + +<p>This new voice was that of an unctuous devil. +Grier, with his finely tuned ear for vocal effects, +fancied that a boa-constrictor might speak with +such a voice. It was the oil in the man-olive +which gave his speech its smoothness.</p> + +<p>Steindal laughed softly at his own cheap wit, +but Constantine was not amused.</p> + +<p>“I tell you, Steindal,” he said, “that you do +not understand the nature of a girl brought up +in the home atmosphere which surrounded +Maggie Hutchinson. Damn it, man, it is that +sanctity of hers which renders her attractive to +me. What is a pretty face or a fairy-like +figure? A mere commodity, a ‘cheap lot, +slightly soiled’ in the catalogue of life. <i>That’s</i> +the sort of woman <i>you</i> have in your mind, and +I don’t want her.”</p> + +<p>“Sanctity, at Maggie’s age, consists of soap +and water and a soft skin. We have a Spanish +proverb: ‘<i>el corazón manda las carnes</i>’—the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> +heart controls the body, and I know that when +a woman’s desires outrun her means she begins +to weigh her scruples to see if they are really as +heavy as she fancies. Just let Maggie Hutchinson +taste success, popularity, the delights of +money-spending, and then withdraw the pleasant +cup before she has drunk too deeply! Bah! +Don’t talk to me of sanctity! To the man of +the world, <i>es de vidrio la mujer</i>—woman is +made of glass!”</p> + +<p>Steindal, scoffing in the complacency of his +knowledge, tilted some champagne down his +wide throat. Karl, feverishly anxious to discover +what plot these twentieth century ghouls +were hatching against a young and innocent girl, +concentrated his thoughts on Constantine with +some reminiscence of that masterfulness he +exhibited as a boy on board the <i>Ganges</i>.</p> + +<p>He carried his intent too far. Constantine +suddenly grew livid with fear. He turned in +his chair, gazed at the floor, and sprawled over +the table, sweeping glass and plates away with +a crash.</p> + +<p>“Look!” he shrieked in an eerie falsetto. +“Can’t you see that shark deep down there in +the black water? It will devour me! Oh, help, +help!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br> + +<small>“BLOOD IS A VERY PECULIAR JUICE”</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">You</span> know what people think when a man +screams out that a shark is threatening him +from the black depths of the parquet flooring of +a fashionable dining-room. And a shark is a +most uncommon feature of such manifestations. +Usually the disturbing vision is a rat, or a green +imp with red eyes, or even a squirming snake. +Indeed, reptiles figure so often in alcoholic apparitions +that I have often wondered why there +are not more frequent “scenes” in the London +Strand, owing to the presence on the kerb of a +number of street vendors who cause make-believe +serpents to wriggle all day long on a +small board.</p> + +<p>Several ladies rose with startled cries. A +passing waiter was so unnerved that he dropped +a laden tray, and the crash added to the alarm +of those seated at a distance, to whom the +hubbub, but not its cause, was audible. The +band stopped playing, a clarionet breaking off +with a funny squeak in the middle of a cadenza, +and, adding fuel each instant to the wild-fire<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> +commotion, Constantine sprawled over the table +and yelled for succor.</p> + +<p>Wilhelm Steindal, convinced that his companion +had suddenly gone mad, showed that he +was endowed with some of the grit essential to +a scoundrel of any real importance. He picked +up a carafe of iced water, and dashed the contents +into the Armenian’s gray-green face, being prepared +to follow up the attack with the bottle +itself, if needful. He acted better than he knew. +The physical shock of the liquid dissipated the +magnetic influence which Karl had unwittingly +exercised on the man he had rescued from the +Bay of Bengal. Forthwith, Constantine recovered +his self-possession. He mopped his +dripping face with a serviette, apologized to the +astounded manager and those diners seated +near, and went out, followed by Steindal.</p> + +<p>The latter was too flustered to garnish his +speech with Spanish phrases, a habit he affected +in order to disguise the Polish-Jew element in +his composition. Indeed, his language now +savored more of the Bowery than of Spanish +America.</p> + +<p>“Wot’n hell did you go’n kick up that sort of +circus for?” he growled, his shining face exuding +oil in his excitement.</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t help it. I was overpowered by a—by +a memory.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>“It was a tomfool performance, anyhow. +Seems to me it’ll be all round N’York that +Steindal was out at a skate wid some flea-sucked +blighter who had brought into the country a +new variety of jim-jams!”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Steindal, I may be afraid of +some things, but I have no fear of you. If you +talk to me in that fashion, I’ll smash your +face.”</p> + +<p>Constantine looked so murderous that the +stout man retreated a pace, and a stalwart hall-porter +moved ponderously forward. The Jew +felt he had gone too far. The Armenian was +too rich a prize to be flung aside because he had +created a scene in a restaurant and spoiled a +good dinner.</p> + +<p>So he cried, with ready complacency:</p> + +<p>“Don’t get mad with me, dere’s a good fella. +I only wanted to shake up your wits a bit. +Come on! Here’s your hat. Let’s walk round +to your hotel. You’ll soon be all right. <i>Carramba!</i> +You scared me worse’n you scared +yourself.”</p> + +<p>Up-town in New York you can turn out of a +brilliantly lighted and crowded avenue into a +side-street of utmost quietude. The two passed +into one of these convenient thoroughfares, and +were instantly removed from the glare of the +restaurant.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>Steindal halted to light a cigarette. He eyed +the Armenian covertly.</p> + +<p>“Tell you what,” he chuckled, “thinkin’ of +that girl has put you off your base.”</p> + +<p>“No, you are mistaken. Something altogether +different upset me. I can’t explain +matters to you here. Wait till I’ve had a highball +in my room. Then I’ll give you the lines +of it. You need have no fear of a further outbreak. +I’m all right now. And you’ve got +strong nerves, eh?”</p> + +<p>“I need ’em my boy, in my business. I’m +a peach on nerves. In the profession they +call me ‘The electrocutioner,’ because I can +stiffen a contract in five seconds. <i>Por Dios!</i> +Nerves!”</p> + +<p>His gurgling laugh surged in Karl’s ears as +Hooper awakened him. Steindal and Constantine +had not yet reached Sixth Avenue +from Broadway ere the two young men in far-away +Oxford were eagerly discussing the incidents +of the preceding hour and a quarter +in New York.</p> + +<p>For once, the scientific necromancy of Karl’s +flights through space failed to enlist all their +attention. Hooper, no less than Grier, was +thrilled by the thought that his friend had been +drawn by some subtle magnetic influence to +participate, in many ways save actual presence,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> +in a conclave of such grave significance to a +girl whose fortunes already interested them.</p> + +<p>And it is, perhaps requisite, here and now, to +protest against the smile of supercilious incredulity +with which some may read of the +earnestness betrayed by these youthful collegians.</p> + +<p>It is a fact of common knowledge that a +telephone company, sufficiently enlightened to +endeavor to please its customers, has arranged +for a board of directors, consisting of three men +in New York, two in Baltimore, and one in +Philadelphia, to sit in their respective offices, +holding the combined receiver and transmitter +to ear and mouth, and conduct a board meeting, +to all intents and purposes as efficiently as if +they were gathered in the same room. Company +directors, or others resident in London, +Birmingham, and Liverpool, could do exactly +the same thing if the British telephone officials +did not require an earthquake followed by a +month’s deliberation before they would undertake +to provide the necessary facilities.</p> + +<p>It is exceedingly probable that, in a few +years, the same instrument which permits +speech and hearing over practically unlimited +distance will carry a “seeing” apparatus as +well. Will the scientific miracle be any the +more explicable because a certain quantity of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> +insulated copper wire intervenes between the +persons seeing, hearing, and speaking to each +other? I am tempted into this disquisition +because, as it happens, the direct outcome of +the conversations between the two sets of men +(than whom the English-speaking world could +scarce produce four persons more opposed +in personal characteristics) was the introduction +of myself, the writer of this memoir, into +the affair. Early in life, journalism had taken +me to India, where I met Karl’s father. He +was a man after my own heart. Many times, +when the business of his tea estate brought +him to Calcutta, I had dined with him in the +“Wilson-’otel,” the strange name by which +alone the <i>gharri-wala</i> knows the Great Eastern +Hotel, or he had been carried off from the Red +Road by me to my own sanctum overlooking +Chowringhee and the smooth, tree-dotted <i>maidàn</i> +that stretches towards Fort William and +the river.</p> + +<p>And you will guess readily what we poor +exiles talked of while the ice clinked in the +long glasses and the blue smoke-rings of Bangalore +cheroots rose to the ceiling. He of his +wife and child, I of a deluded girl waiting in +England until the rupee recovered from the +heat-wave which melted silver—Heavens! How +we flung those topics back and forth, like two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> +tennis-players battering a ball. And we never +bored each other. Each man was far too +thankful to have a sympathetic listener to be +weary of the other’s stories.</p> + +<p>So, in that way, I knew a great deal of Karl, +and when, years having passed, and the aforesaid +girl (the rupee having long since steadied +itself at 1<i>s.</i> 4<i>d.</i>) being gone to visit her mother +in Devonshire with our young hopeful, I decided +to indulge in a long deferred trip to +Oxford, it was only natural that I should seek +out the son of my old Indian crony, and ask +him to guide my steps along the ancient paths +of “the home of lost causes and impossible +beliefs.”</p> + +<p>The odd thing was that no man in Britain +was more prepared to give credence to Karl’s +“visions” than myself. I had long since read +Sir William Macpherson’s book, and constructed +Frank Hooper’s theory of the definite bounds +of human inventiveness out of my own thought-producing +laboratory. “Blut ist ein ganz besondrer +saft!” said old Mephisto, when he +wheedled Faust into signing his soul away +with his own blood, and the same “peculiar +juice” of the Celtic stream ran in Grier’s veins +and in my own. Moreover, Grier <i>père</i> had +told me of the adventures of Grier <i>fils</i> in the +matter of the Hutchinson Raid and the saving<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> +of Constantine, so it was another of the strange +coincidences of life that brought a note from +me, ensconced in the Mitre Inn, to Karl at +his college on the morning after his excursion +to Steindal’s office and the Broadway restaurant.</p> + +<p>Grier and Hooper come to me during the +afternoon. Instead of admiring the glories +of Oxford, I had the recital of recent events +poured into my willing ears as we sat together +in my private sitting-room on the first floor. +Dear me! how the years slipped back as I +listened. The rounded tree-tops and gracious +spires of the English University town did not +differ so greatly from the dim outlines of the +palatial city on the left bank of the Hughli. +What a mere hand-span is a vanished decade! +The magic carpet of Tangu, which instantaneously +transported its possessor whither he +wished to go, was not a more wonderful vehicle +than a man’s memory. And Karl, even thus +early in life, had a way of talking that compelled +attention. He spoke to the point, in +simple words. Evidently he had a horror of +exaggeration. His explanations were clear, logical, +as a proposition of Euclid, and he was +hardly ever at a loss for a simile when illustrating +one of the less easily understood features +of his new and extraordinary force.</p> + +<p>Being his senior by a good many years, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> +thought it my duty to point out the hazardous +nature of these excursions into the unknown. +I was fascinated by his story, of course, together +with Hooper’s singularly definite corroboration +of its chief features, yet I feared lest such playing +with nervous excitability might result in +paralysis or mental trouble.</p> + +<p>But Karl’s cheery laugh reassured me.</p> + +<p>“I have taken a very precise set of notes of a +lecture on Seismic Waves this morning,” he +said, “and at this very moment I could break +that poker across my knee. There’s little wrong +with my brains, and still less with my muscles, +I can assure you.”</p> + +<p>He leaned forward, picked up the poker, +and examined it critically. It was an old-fashioned, +heavy implement, with its point +sharpened by years of forgetfulness, which, in +pokerdom, takes the form of slow consumption +in sulky fires.</p> + +<p>“Now that I come to examine it, I don’t +think I can break it. Being honest wrought +iron, it will bend into a hoop. But I’ll polarize +it, by way of a change.”</p> + +<p>He pulled up his coat sleeves, and turned +back the cuffs of his shirt so as to bare his +wrists. Then holding the poker point downwards +on the hearthrug, he began to stroke it +softly with the tips of his fingers and thumbs.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> +His hands were white, long-fingered, and finely +molded, his wrists square and hard. Looking +at him, watching the smile playing on his eager +face, and the athletic poise of his body as he +kept the poker from falling, I was struck by his +physical resemblance to the Vatican Discobolus, +with its wonderful combination of repose at the +completion of the backward movement of the +thrower, and of action at the commencement of +the powerful forward cast.</p> + +<p>But such thoughts were dispelled by the uncanny +antics of the poker. It was broad daylight, +and any sleight-of-hand performance was +out of the question in every sense. Yet both +Hooper and I myself saw Karl withdraw his +support from the poker, continuing the stroking +movement in the air, and gradually widening +the distance between his hands.</p> + +<p>And the poker did not fall! It stood there +immovable, as though its point were stuck in +the floor through the rug. At first I candidly +admit that I was certain Grier had found a hole +in the carpet which coincided with a crack in +the flooring. But when he inclined the imaginary +axis of his hands, thus changing the direction +of the magnetic current that flowed between +them, the poker adjusted its poise to the new +line of force. It described circles, leaned over +at impossible angles, lifted itself fully a foot in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> +the air, and twice traced in space the figure of a +Maltese cross. I lay stress on this simple yet +peculiar manifestation of Karl’s powers, because +it was the first instance of them which had +actually come under my personal notice.</p> + +<p>Certainly I was amazed, and even Hooper, +notwithstanding the marvels he had witnessed, +expressed his surprise at the new feature of his +friend’s astounding qualities.</p> + +<p>“I can’t explain why I should have the gift of +magnetic induction,” laughed Karl. “I discovered +it accidentally one day when I was +making an experiment with a freely suspended +needle to determine a magnetic meridian. I +became very interested, the adjustment required +delicate manipulation, and suddenly my hands +went cold, while the needle followed their +movements. Feel my hands now!”</p> + +<p>I caught his right hand. It was so icy to the +touch that I believe I started.</p> + +<p>“I really think I could magnetize your hands,” +he went on. “Shall I try?”</p> + +<p>Naturally, I agreed. Without permitting the +poker to fall, he commenced to stroke my hands +from the finger-tips to the wrists. Soon I felt a +sensation akin to plunging them into snow. +And behold, when he quitted me, that most +eccentric of pokers yielded to <i>my</i> blandishments!</p> + +<p>But in my case a more orthodox circulation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> +quickly shattered the magnetic axis. In a few +seconds the poker tottered, and would have +fallen had I not caught it. The marked diminution +of temperature experienced while I was +under the influence of Karl’s electric energy was +not the least interesting feature of a curious +incident, seeing that it is an axiom of the classroom +that all magnetic phenomena vanish completely +if a magnet be made red-hot!</p> + +<p>All this has astonishingly little to do with the +more exciting personal affairs of a charming +young lady like Maggie Hutchinson. But it is +reasonable to suppose that Karl, anxious to +secure the counsel of an older man, thought fit +to show this imaginary Solomon how necessary +faith was to the performance of good works, and +it is in this same spirit of convincing the incredulous +that I have related the trivial yet quite +extraordinary poker-balancing of that summer’s +afternoon in the Mitre Hotel, Oxford.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br> + +<small>MAGGIE HUTCHINSON INTERVENES</small></h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">When</span> you two have finished your parlor-tricks,” +said Hooper, endeavoring to copy a +judicial eye-glare he had seen used by the Lord +Chief Justice, “this committee will proceed to +the business of the sitting.”</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, necessary for our budding +lawyer to recall our wandering thoughts to the +affairs of the girl whom we believed to be then +half-way across the Atlantic on a journey to the +British Isles. We might accept Karl’s mediumistic +statements to the fullest extent, not only +reading into them the literal significance of the +conversations and scenes he reported, but also +paying heed to the logical outcome of these +episodes; yet there were serious difficulties in +the way of applying the information thus +acquired.</p> + +<p>Put baldly, what would Karl say to Miss +Margaret Hutchinson, who was presumably +accompanied by her mother, if he went to meet +the <i>Merlin</i> at Liverpool?</p> + +<p>Let us, in imagination, reconstruct the incident, +after the manner beloved of the French<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> +<i>juge d’instruction</i>. The great liner draws up to +her berth at the landing-stage. Gangways are +lowered, and there is a frantic rush of passengers +to enter the Customs shed, though the last +philosopher who walks placidly ashore knows +that his luggage will be decorated with little +printed crowns in ample time to permit him to +travel to London by the same train that conveys +the first triumphant struggler.</p> + +<p>Hovering between a portion of a wall marked +“H” and the ticket barrier of the railway station +will be found Maggie and her mama, both looking +exceedingly well after the voyage, and in a +state of repressed excitement arising from the +conviction innate in every woman’s soul that she +will never see her boxes again, once they have +been so carelessly mixed up with other people’s +belongings.</p> + +<p>Karl, exercising a degree of tact blended with +silver, obtains admission to the enclosure, and +recognizes Maggie at once, having seen her ten +days ago at Manhattan Beach.</p> + +<p>But it is fully ten years since Maggie last saw +him, so there occurs a social embarrassment in +the nature of what our sporting friends call a +“bull finch.” Nevertheless, Karl, having ingratiating +manners, and being really an old friend +and the son of Mrs. Hutchinson’s special crony, +surmounts the obstacle, and is received with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> +enthusiasm tempered by a certain shyness on +Maggie’s part (her memory of youthful caresses +becoming clearer each instant) and by speculation +on the part of mama as to the reason which +induced this very good-looking and well-dressed +young man to come all the way to Liverpool to +meet them.</p> + +<p>Clearly, Karl must talk platitudes about the +weather, the fine sea-going qualities of the +<i>Merlin</i>, the ridiculousness of all Customs examinations, +or any other inane topic at the outset; +it would never do to plunge straight off into the +occult cause of his presence. Moreover, the +train leaves for London in five minutes, and +hosts of acquaintances, some of long standing, +others of the ship-board or moth variety, exchange +cheery greetings as they pass.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you are staying in Liverpool, Mr. +Grier?” says Mrs. Hutchinson at last, and Karl +is impelled to say that he intends to accompany +them to London, when, at this critical state of +affairs, there enters the villain of the play in the +shape of Steindal’s agent with a contract in his +hand and a stylographic pen in his waistcoat +pocket.</p> + +<p>After all is said and done, pretty Miss Margaret +is making music her profession, the Darjeeling +tea-garden not having proved a great +success; and what chance does Karl, with his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> +visions, stand against Steindal, the concert director +of international fame? For the great “Wilhelm” +has risen from the dramatic agency in +which Hooper had heard of him to the higher +level of controlling the <i>maestri</i>, <i>prime donne</i>, and +other prodigies of that strange world which finds +all its inspiration in the first seven letters of the +alphabet. His influence is so far-reaching, his +verdict accepted so unhesitatingly by managers +and publishers, that not many stars in the +musical firmament can move in orbits apart +from Steindal. For a novice to attain notoriety +without his assistance would be almost impossible. +Both mother and daughter have already +been taught by bitter experience that one must +move circumspectly where such a man is concerned, +and, above all things, not dare to interfere +with plans he has made for professional +advancement. So, when Karl would urge Maggie +to refuse the highly advantageous offer made +by Steindal’s London agent—who had actually +come from London to press it on his client’s +acceptance—both the girl and her mother must +regard him as somewhat akin to a lunatic.</p> + +<p>The more mysteriously accurate the statements +he made concerning recent events on the +other side of the Atlantic, the less the ladies +would regard their value from the common-sense +point of view. Mrs. Hutchinson, of course,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> +remembered the escape from death she and her +husband, and probably her child, owed to Karl’s +intervention years ago in India. But that was +a “strange dream,” a “queer coincidence,” and +any one who permitted her life to be governed +by such supernatural revelations must either be +distinguished by Providence outside the plane +of ordinary mortals or be qualifying speedily +for the “dangerous” ward in an asylum.</p> + +<p>All this, and more, did I set forth temperately +before my young friends. They agreed with me, +Hooper completely, and Grier with reservations.</p> + +<p>“My advice is that you ask your mother to +communicate with Mrs. Hutchinson and her +daughter,” I said. “It will surely follow that +you all meet in London or elsewhere, and you +will have no difficulty in leading up to a disclosure +of your knowledge in what may be +described as a reasonable and convincing manner. +They will be surprised, of course, but +they will be forewarned if evil is contemplated. +It is not that Steindal’s help will be injurious to +Miss Hutchinson. He has brought out a great +many eminent artistes, and the public regard his +introduction of a newcomer as a sort of hallmark +on precious metal. Moreover, long before +any nefarious plot can mature, you may have +information of a far more convincing sort.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly,” broke in Hooper. “I told Karl<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> +last night that he was in for a series of first-rate +biograph adventures now. He can’t avoid ’em. +It is perfectly evident that Constantine will ring +him up at any hour of the day or night. Great +Scott! What a world it will be when we all +possess a telelog number!”</p> + +<p>We ignored the new word, and neither Karl +nor I had as yet hit on “telegnomy.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you are right,” said Karl, submissively. +“When a journalist and a lawyer +come to dissect a modern miracle they leave +precious little of its mysticism. But there is +one thing you ought to do. You, Frank, as an +eye-witness, to a certain extent, should set down +in writing all that has taken place and all that +I have told you, while our friend here can affix +his signature as further testimony of its truth.”</p> + +<p>“Holy gee! Do you think I have missed a +word of it?” cried Hooper, triumphantly producing +his note-book.</p> + +<p>“This is only the first chapter of a romance,” +I said.</p> + +<p>“It may be the end as well as the beginning,” +was Grier’s quiet comment. “Do not forget +that many years have elapsed between these +different excitations of a faculty I cannot control. +Last night I advanced a long stage in my attainments, +and it is possible my extra sense may +disappear as rapidly as it has developed.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>“I cannot agree with you,” said I. “The +history of your gradual extension of power +seems rather to prove the opposite contention. +By a slow and well-marked process, nature has +perfected in you an amazing apparatus which +probably heralds the advent of some mechanical +contrivance far beyond the range of our +present knowledge. Why should she suddenly +destroy that which she has taken so long to +fashion? It is unquestionable that birthmarks +on human beings are produced by a curiously +simple variant of the photographic lens. I +have seen the dial of a clock reproduced in a +girl’s eyes, the clear drawing of a rose on a +child’s shoulder. Such pre-natal photographs +are not common, but they have always been +and will continue to be, while the human race +possesses its present characteristics.”</p> + +<p>“I would be better content if some other +subject were chosen for this new demonstration,” +said he.</p> + +<p>“Oh, cheer up, Grier!” cried Hooper. “For +all you know, you may be the last of the Mohicans. +I was reading Pliny’s description of +the ‘Agate of Pyrrhus’ the other day. Ever +hear of it? No! Well, you have seen polished +agates, and any one can find amusement in +discovering heads, figures, animals, even landscapes +in them. A good specimen is called a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> +‘gamaheu,’ and Pliny’s agate was a rip-snorter. +It contained the Nine Muses with Apollo in +the midst of them. Having attained the dignity +of classic art, poor old nature grew tired, +and now we have nary a gamaheu.”</p> + +<p>“You are scoffing,” I said indignantly. “Let +us adjourn the session. I came here to see +Oxford, not to indulge in physiolatry.”</p> + +<p>“The fact is that you are surfeited with +wonders,” retorted Hooper. “It is a common +failing of the species. Think what a supreme +genius was the first pithecoid man who invented +a wheel, who used fire, who fashioned a +bow! How we ought to grovel at the mere mention +of the great unknown who perceived that +the other beasts were created to serve mankind!”</p> + +<p>I rang for a waiter. Lager beer alone could +quench this young sage’s enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Grier had exhausted some accumulation +of nervous force, perhaps the supply +cells of the electric waves which carried sight +and sound across the Atlantic were unequal +just then to sustained calls on their resources, +but, whatever the reason, it is certain that he +was untroubled by visions, waking or asleep, +during several days. I prolonged my visit to +Oxford, passing all the available time in Karl’s +company, and, more often than not, Hooper +was with us.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>The latter tried every artifice, especially +during the undisturbed eventide, to induce in +his companion that which he considered the +fitting conditions for a telegnomic trance.</p> + +<p>“Guess Maggie’s feelin’ fine an’ dandy by +this time,” he would say, after alluding to the +“sickening monotony” of the first days at sea.</p> + +<p>Or again:</p> + +<p>“Wonder if Steindal is going to Delmonico’s +to-night? It’s a sure thing he’ll give the other +place a distant nod of recognition for some +time to come.”</p> + +<p>But it was of no avail.</p> + +<p>Once there was a chance of success. We +were talking of the uselessness of certain lines +of thought, and I instanced as an example of +fallacious reasoning the famous problem of +John of Salisbury:</p> + +<p>“When a hog is driven to market with a rope +round his neck does the man or the rope take +him?”</p> + +<p>“I read Plato a good deal,” said Hooper, +“and there are times when I more than half +suspect him of asking a question akin to that +with his tongue in his check.”</p> + +<p>“That is because you have a small head, +Frank,” said Karl. “Plato was a broad man. +Indeed, his proper name was Aristocles, and +he was called Platon, the broad-shouldered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> +one, as a nickname. Hence, I should credit him +with a big head, and big-headed men lead in intellect. +Observe, <i>I</i> have a big head. My size in +hats is seven and a quarter. My natural modesty +prevents me from drawing further conclusions.”</p> + +<p>“That fellow Constantine has a small head, +I fancy?” murmured Hooper, with a quick +sidelong glance at me.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think so. Oh, yes, I am sure. It +is hatchet-shaped, with the animal propensities +dominant and yet a certain intellectuality +of forehead, aided, perhaps, by the large, +dark eyes.... But Steindal! He has a head +modelled like an egg, a type curiously capable +of the highest and most debased attributes.”</p> + +<p>He was silent after that. Hooper signalled +to me to remain stolid as a Red Indian. But +Karl soon moved restlessly.</p> + +<p>“You fellows imagine I am on the verge of +a new display,” he cried with a certain impatience. +“I don’t say it is impossible, but +there is something holding me back. I don’t +deny that I tried just then to send forth an +investigating ray. But nothing happened, not +even the preliminary umbra.”</p> + +<p>He was fretful this evening, annoyed that the +power should apparently have escaped him. +He dreaded, I believe, lest the tremendous +strain of the incidents in the Broadway restaurant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> +should have permanently impaired the +hyper-sensitive membranes and nerve-cells +which were called into play.</p> + +<p>None of us had the slightest suspicion of +what had really happened, namely, that Karl +himself, by perplexing his ordinary faculties with +doubts anent pretty Maggie Hutchinson, had set +up a hostile influence (using the phrase solely in +its magnetic meaning) which temporarily benumbed +the delicate organism of his sixth sense.</p> + +<p>It took him some time to acquire the exact +poise of mental placidity most favorable to +the exercise of his unique faculties. Meanwhile, +a startling confirmation of his “visions” +came in a very unexpected and prosaic manner.</p> + +<p>Hooper and I were awaiting him at the door +of the <i>Mitre</i>, a drive to Woodstock being the +order of the afternoon, when Karl came to us +in a great hurry, his lips apart, and his big +blue eyes shining with excitement.</p> + +<p>“Say,” whispered Hooper, “the <i>Merlin</i> has +arrived and things have happened.”</p> + +<p>And Karl had actually received this most surprising +telegram from his mother in Scotland:</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Hutchinson and daughter Maggie +arrive in England to-day from States. They +proceed direct to Pall Mall Hotel, London, +and are most anxious to see you at once. Wire +them and me. With love, Mother.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br> + +<small>THE CONFOUNDED HOTEL CLERK</small></h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Whoop!</span>” shouted the American, joyously. +“Didn’t I tell you things were going to hum? +You stand on me! Steindal, Constantine and +Co. haven’t a dog’s chance!”</p> + +<p>I pointed out that such unseemly behavior +at the door of a busy hotel in the High was +likely to cause unpleasant comment, if, indeed, +it did not excite proctorial wrath, and he retorted +that a freeborn Yankee was entitled to +unfurl the Stars and Stripes on all such occasions +as seemed personally fitting. In fact, +we both were very elated by the really remarkable +confirmation of Karl’s story given by Mrs. +Grier’s telegram, and we exhibited our emotions +after the manner of our respective kith.</p> + +<p>Though we Anglo-Saxons, the Siamese twins +of the Atlantic, are so closely bound together +by the ties of speech and history, though the +best blood of Britain has been generously +given to the building up of the great nation +of the west, there are differences of temperament, +probably induced by climate, which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> +divide us into well-marked varieties of the +human family. Thus, while Hooper did not +hesitate to express his wordy delight, and with +animated face and lively movement exhibit the +dynamic energy called into play by Karl’s +announcement, I strove to stiffen myself into +a passable representation of a wooden image. +I suppose we Britons do that sort of thing +because we think that sort of thing is the correct +thing, don’chyno.</p> + +<p>You have but to cross the Atlantic a few times +to obtain clear mind-pictures of the expansive +Jonathan and the bovine Bull. An American +liner puts off from Pier 14 in the Hudson River +and swings slowly in the stream until her nose +points towards the Statue of Liberty. Look +back at the wharf banked high with people, +and see the innumerable little flags, the countless +handkerchiefs, signalling frantic farewells! +That is enthusiasm! If Brown and his wife +set forth for Europe, Smith, Jones, and Robinson +and their respective wives gather on the +steamer to see the Browns off. There is a lot +of excitement, flowers, and flag-wagging—perhaps +some furtive tears—but, anyhow, an +honest display of unbridled human nature. +Then see that same vessel edging away from +Southampton quay, and note the guarded +leave-taking of those rare individuals who depart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> +so greatly from British traditions as to +speed their voyaging friends as far as the +ship’s gangway. The last time I was there, a +dozen of us, cowering behind rain-swept railway +trucks, had journeyed from London to +see off a whole ship’s company. Do you fancy +we flagged anybody, or waved handkerchiefs, +or yelled cheery messages? Not we! We +watched the steamer disappearing into a squall +and then eyed each other suspiciously, if not +with active hostility; while some of us negotiated +for the only available cab.</p> + +<p>Yet it is all gammon, this seeming stoicism, +a smug respectability which “goes well,” as +the milliners say, with a silk hat and an umbrella. +Indeed, if for “climate” you read +“umbrella,” you have what Max Müller would +call the “root concept” of my philosophy. +John adapts his garments to suit his uncertain +weather, and he carries this covering-up +method into all the affairs of life.</p> + +<p>Certain explanations to the authorities procured +permission for Karl to go to London. +I accompanied him in the time-honored rôle +of <i>amicus curiæ</i>, but Hooper, of his own accord, +said it would be more seemly if he were held +in reserve as one who could offer confirmatory +evidence if it were required.</p> + +<p>Three hours after the receipt of Mrs. Grier’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> +telegram we were at the inquiry office of the +Pall Mall Hotel. It was then 6 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span></p> + +<p>“The <i>Merlin</i> is not in yet,” said the hotel +clerk, in the curt, off-hand manner which +the Londoner is beginning to learn from his +American fellow-official.</p> + +<p>“Not in yet!” I gasped. “Why, man, we +received a message hours ago at Oxford concerning +people on board.”</p> + +<p>“That is more than we have done.”</p> + +<p>He made pretence to be exceedingly busy +with a ledger; but prolonged ill-usage by ticket +examiners, platform inspectors, and the rest +of the Jacks in office who seldom know much +about their duties, has hardened me.</p> + +<p>“Are you so overworked that you cannot +attend to me, or shall I ask Mr. Schmidt’s +assistance?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>Now here I have given you a most useful +tip. Always ascertain the name of the manager +of the hotel. The prompt, familiar reference +to the august “Schmidt”—whom I did not +know—warned the clerk that here might be +some person of importance, worthy to be on +terms of intimacy with the great gun of the +Pall Mall Hotel. He groveled, closing the +ledger carefully lest the bang should annoy +me further.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir. I hope you did<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> +not misunderstand me,” he said, smiling—oh, +how I hate that false smirk—“the <i>Merlin</i> +was signaled from Queenstown yesterday, but +she has not reached Liverpool. We place a +notice in the vestibule the moment we have +any news, and the telegram itself states—what +time—the special—Excuse me, sir, but your +friend—”</p> + +<p>Karl was standing by my side during the +brief colloquy with the clerk. I saw the pert +Londoner’s eyes droop. His lips parted and +whitened, his voice faltered, his demeanor +was that of Richard III on the eve of the battle +of Bosworth Field. I half expected to hear +him yelp:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,</div> +<div class="verse">And every tongue brings in a several tale,</div> +<div class="verse">And every tale condemns me for a villain.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>I gazed anxiously at my companion, and +became partly aware of what had happened. +Karl had magnetized the clerk! In another +instant the dapper little man would be crawling +over the counter, looking up with uncomprehending +terror at the Jove-like being who +bent those lightning shafts on him.</p> + +<p>I caught Karl by the arm. Instantly the +concentrated energy which had shrunk the +pupils of his eyes to pin-points relaxed, the relieved<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> +motor and sensory nerves returned to +their ordinary functions, and he looked benignantly +at the quivering clerk, whom he had +not seen at all during the transient oblivion of +his surroundings.</p> + +<p>“It is all right,” he said, turning towards +me. “A railway porter has just told Maggie +that the train will leave the landing-stage +station in twenty minutes. In fact, at this +moment she is talking to Steindal’s representative, +a man named Bocci. And, do you know, +from what she said I imagine—”</p> + +<p>I caught the clerk listening now with a rabbit-eared +amazement that nearly equaled his previous +alarm. I was sorry for him. He must +be in a state of agitation somewhat akin to the +flutterings of a sparrow rescued from the +deadly fascination of a snake.</p> + +<p>So I laughed, with the best assumption of +the actor’s art of which I was capable.</p> + +<p>“Let him off, Karl!” I cried. “The next +time we seek information I am sure he will +give it to us readily.”</p> + +<p>Karl took my cue and grinned in concert. +I led him away to a lounge, but, ever and anon, +the clerk watched us from the corner of his +eye, and I chortled to see him comparing the +clock with the time stated on a telegram which +reached him a few minutes later, wherein the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> +departure of the <i>Merlin</i> special was announced +in exact concord with Karl’s statement.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile I learnt what had taken place. No +sooner had Grier heard the unexpected fact of +the steamer’s non-arrival than he, quite carelessly, +“sent out,” as he phrased it, to find +Maggie and the ship. He experienced no +difficulty this time. He saw the girl and her +mother standing in a huge shed and conversing +with a foreign-looking person. Through +several doors he distinguished the brass-rimmed +port-holes and white rails of a large vessel, +and he heard a hum of voices, the clanking +of cranes, and the tramping of many feet.</p> + +<p>“From what I gathered,” he said, “Signor +Bocci was surprised, even annoyed, to learn +that Miss Hutchinson was not prepared to +accept at once the contract which Steindal +offered. ‘No artiste has ever obtained more +favorable terms from my principal,’ he told +her. ‘Is it that you demand more money, or +more frequent appearances?’ ‘Oh, no,’ said +Maggie, and she has such a nice, sweet voice; +‘I am, indeed, greatly obliged to Mr. Steindal, +and to you, signor, for having troubled to come +to Liverpool. But I really must ask you to +let arrangements stand in abeyance until my +mother and I meet you in London.’ ‘But +what am I to cable to Steindal?’ he asked.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> +‘Why cable this evening?’ she persisted. ‘Am +I such an important little person that the +world is waiting breathlessly for my decision?’ +That is all I heard while I was paralyzing the +clerk.”</p> + +<p>“How was Miss Hutchinson dressed?”</p> + +<p>“In a navy blue costume trimmed with black +braid. She wore a white yachting cap and +white gloves. Mrs. Hutchinson was dressed +in black, with a sort of black lace mantle and +a black bonnet of lace and feathers.”</p> + +<p>“And Bocci—what is <i>he</i> like?”</p> + +<p>“An ordinary, under-sized, pasty-faced +Italian, fiercely outlined with black hair, eyebrows, +and moustache.”</p> + +<p>I went to the bureau again. The inquiry +clerk was apprehensive, but I only wanted the +London Directory. And therein I hunted up +the entry: “Bocci, Giovanni, concert agent,” +with a number in a Strand side-street.</p> + +<p>“How did you know that Steindal’s London +representative was named Bocci?” I asked +Karl.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I forgot to tell you that Miss Hutchinson +held his card in her hand.”</p> + +<p>He rattled off “Signor Giovanni Bocci,” +and the rest of the copperplate legend! I +wonder what the inquiry clerk would have +thought had he overheard the whole of Karl’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> +story. Afterwards, when steeled to the marvel +of it all, I did not hesitate to prod the dull wits +of the heavy tribe which Emerson describes +as “only understanding pitch-forks and the +cry of ‘Fire!’” But that evening I forebore, +lest we should be turned out of the hotel.</p> + +<p>Indeed, that monstrous British dread of a +“scene” induced me to beseech Karl not to +go wandering off through space until the conditions +were more private. We had four hours +to spare, so we dined, strolled to Hyde Park +and back, and finally awaited in the hotel +vestibule the advent of the two ladies. It was +the height of the London season. One of the +many fine days which the world’s capital +manages to smuggle in between layers of fog +and sheeted storm was drawing to a close. +And how majestic, how radiantly calm, is +London at such an hour! The purple haze of +evening glorifies the harsh lines of myriad roofs; +the long rows of twinkling lights might have +been designed by Whistler; beneath the opulent +robe of the great city one can hear its +tremendous heart beating peacefully.</p> + +<p>It was Grier’s first adult experience of London, +and I was certain that it affected him +powerfully. He told me later that he was +tempted many times to expand those awesome +caverns of his brain, and seek to understand<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> +with their seemingly immeasurable receptive +capacity the giant influences at work amidst +that vast aggregation of humanity. But he +resisted successfully, feeling somewhat awed, +even a little frightened, by the belief that he +alone, among the passing thousands, was endowed +with almost omniscient knowledge of +the actions and utterances of his fellow-men. +Not of their thoughts. There was something of +that to come—a grand expansion of that +sympathetic transmission of ideas vaguely known +to men and animals since the Spirit moved +over the face of the waters, and the heavens +and the earth and all the host of them were +designed. But not yet. The most sceptical +of scientists could not accuse Karl of flights of +imagination, for he recorded naught save positive +facts of contemporary occurrence. That, +to me, was the most startling feature of his +sixth sense. There scarcely exists a man or +woman of any real intelligence who has not, +at one time or another, communicated the unspoken +thought to another at a distance. Truly, +this comparatively general attribute of mankind +is a far more stupendous and less comprehensible +achievement than Karl’s telegnomy. +But, as Hooper said about the wheel and the +use of fire, we soon become surfeited with +wonders.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>The hands of the great clock over the fireplace +crept slowly past 11.30 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, the hour +named in the telegram from the shipping company +as that at which the <i>Merlin</i> passengers +would reach Euston. Thence, with the best +intentions, otherwise a fast hansom, the Hutchinson +ladies could not arrive at the hotel much +before midnight.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, at a quarter to twelve, Grier +showed some signs of restlessness. I have +often thought that these physical indications +of the psychic force pent up in certain tiny +pyramidal cells situate within the cortex of +the gray matter of the brain greatly resembled +the throbbings and strainings and extraordinarily +minute movements of a boiler getting +up steam. Your inch-thick, riveted cylinder +may be bolted to iron beams imbedded in +granite-like concrete, yet the living power of +steam makes its presence felt long ere the +engineer bids the impatient giant get to work.</p> + +<p>And it was so now with Karl. He could not +sit still. The vestibule was full of people waiting +to meet the <i>Merlin</i> contingent—oh, no, +not of English people, but of Americans, anxious +to welcome other Americans—yet Karl +and I, amidst all the lively throng, enlisted the +sustained attention of the inquiry clerk.</p> + +<p>Once, after catching his eye, an impulse of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> +sheer devilment sent me to greet Mr. Schmidt +most warmly. The manager, of course, being +an affable man who liked to stand on pleasant +terms with his patrons, was quite amenable to +that kind of polite attention. We entered into +a lively conversation for a minute or two, and +I kept darting expressive glances towards the +clerk.</p> + +<p>I am sure the poor fellow quaked. Quitting +Mr. Schmidt, I rejoined Karl, and the inquiry +clerk ran across the vestibule. He was most +anxious now to be civil.</p> + +<p>“I have just heard of a telephone message +from Euston,” he said to me. “There are +ninety passengers for this hotel, and they will +be here in a few minutes.”</p> + +<p>“The first station omnibus is just coming +round the corner,” said Karl, quietly. “Maggie +and her mother are in the next one, not in a +hansom.”</p> + +<p>Now, from where we stood, there was no +visible vehicle of the type mentioned. The +clerk looked puzzled, as well he might, thinking +my companion had commented on his +statement. I knew what had happened. During +my momentary talk with Schmidt, Karl +had taken a peep beyond.</p> + +<p>Sure enough, almost at once a London and +North Western Railway ’bus deposited the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> +first consignment of <i>Merlin</i> folk at the hotel +entrance. Out of the next conveyance stepped +two ladies whom I recognized, from the description +supplied by Karl, as Mrs. Hutchinson +and her daughter.</p> + +<p>I must confess that the sight of them gave +me a shock, well prepared though I was for +their appearance. Yet it is one thing to expect +a certain experience, but quite another to +undergo it—as, to wit, being ready for the +sensation of a needle-bath and receiving the +impact of the icy jets of water on your bare +skin.</p> + +<p>It was so exceedingly strange to see the +mother and daughter, unconscious objects +of experiments of epoch-marking importance, +quietly appearing at the door of a London +hotel under ordinary conditions open to any +of the well-dressed, unheeding crowd within +or the hurrying multitude without.</p> + +<p>They passed through the revolving doors, +and looked about them. Karl stepped forward, +somewhat shyly, though there was an instant +charm in his smiling disingenuousness. You +see, he fancied he had to introduce himself, +being now a tall man in place of the little boy +Mrs. Hutchinson had last seen, and whom +Maggie must wholly fail to remember.</p> + +<p>So far as mama was concerned, be sure she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> +could not distinguish Grier, at first glance, from +any other man present.</p> + +<p>But Maggie saw him instantly. She became +very pale, and her eyes, extremely pretty eyes +they were (and are), dilated.</p> + +<p>“Oh, mother!” she cried aloud. “There he +is!”</p> + +<p>So curiously perturbed was she, so timid and +childlike in her words and attitude, that Grier’s +conventional welcome died away in his throat. +Yet he held out his hand, and the girl, stepping +forward impulsively, caught it in both of hers.</p> + +<p>But her eyes filled with tears, and the corners +of her mouth quivered, and not another word +could she utter. The scene was unexpected, +embarrassing, and, of course, dreadfully un-English. +And what did it all signify?</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br> + +<small>MAGGIE TELLS WHAT BEFEL HER</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">I think</span> I came to the rescue, but I was so +flurried, so completely driven out of myself, +that ordered recollection begins only in the +middle of the blather which usually serves as +conversational counters at such meetings. I +made myself known to Mrs. Hutchinson, and +she, worthy soul, much perplexed by certain +mysterious incidents soon to be made clear +(after a fashion), extricated us from a difficult +situation by the true motherliness of her surprise +and admiration at finding Karl grown to be a +bigger man than his father.</p> + +<p>She was a Scotswoman, and she delighted in +proclaiming the fact. Thus, although a lady of +good birth and refined manners, she did not +disdain to use the homely phrases of “her ain +people” when they expressed her thoughts better +than the polished slang which passes current +for English in society nowadays.</p> + +<p>“Eh, but it’s a cure for sair e’en to see you, +honey,” she cried, when she had assured herself +that this six-footer was really the young Grier +whom she had heard so much about of late.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> +(This cryptic remark will explain itself presently.) +“I was sure my letter to your mother +would bring you quickly to us if you were not +abroad. Did she telegraph to you? I suppose +she could not have written in the time. And +how kind it is of you to hurry up to London in +time to receive us! Did you say you came from +Oxford? Well, from what I have heard of +young gentlemen at the ’Varsity, they seldom +object to an urgent call that brings them to +London.”</p> + +<p>Now that sort of rattling talk is admirably +calculated to dissipate metapsychic puzzles into +thin air. I was exceedingly grateful to Mrs. +Hutchinson. From that moment dated my +lasting admiration for her dear, outspoken, +open-hearted qualities. Excellent soul! She +was trustworthy as oak, and quite as dense to +anything beyond the circle of her comprehension.</p> + +<p>The two young boobies gazing so pathetically +at each other were enabled in the interim to +recover their speech and their every-day faculties. +Karl’s eyes kindled with a friendly interest +which threatened developments, and Maggie +gazed at him with a smiling, fawn-like wistfulness +calculated to drive any heart-whole and +well-regulated young man frantic in five minutes +by the clock.</p> + +<p>It was my first actual, if vicarious, acquaintance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> +with that pleasant malady known as love +at first sight, and, judging by the symptoms of +this well-matched pair, the disease is one which, +like measles in childhood, is calculated to do the +cynic good.</p> + +<p>I suppose it is my duty, right here, as Hooper +would say, to describe Maggie Hutchinson. I +would prefer to give a definition of the differential +calculus—one can hunt up these things so +readily in any work of reference—but to what +encyclopedia can a man turn when he wishes +to limn in mere words the elusive charms of a +beautiful, well-educated girl, in whom a delightful +femininity is blended with the rare artistic +temperament—blended, too, with the deftness +of a skilled gardener who grafts one lovely and +sweet-scented plant on another? If the human +soul were ever visible to our mortal senses it +must most nearly attain tangible form in fragrant +young womanhood. Every artist who +seeks inspiration in nature, every poet who +writes a stanza to Spring or the Dawn, knows +that this is so. And that is why it is not good +for mankind that woman should, by training or +environment, weaken the God-given maternal +instinct which is the golden halo of the Madonna.</p> + +<p>Some such thought came to me when I first +set eyes on Maggie Hutchinson. She realized +an ideal and that is saying much. Not that she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> +was so strikingly handsome that men must stare +and women sniff merely because she passed, +nor that her pose of head and general shapeliness +would have enraptured a Greek sculptor. No, +I am compelled to state that by the generality of +critics Maggie would only be placed among the +nondescript “good-looking” section of young +ladies, and she might, or might not, be molded +like the Capuan Venus for all that her orthodox +“tailor-built” (that is the right description, I +believe) traveling costume revealed.</p> + +<p>But the peculiar circumstances under which I +met her, and the rapt spirituality of that look +which she flashed at Karl through the gathering +tears, added a spice of romance to an otherwise +colorless incident. The musician who extracts +a thousand tumultuous words out of a single +<i>lied ohne wörte</i> can best understand the emotional +flood of thought which conveys a whole +volume of meaning. For an instant I experienced +some glimmering perception of Karl’s +sixth sense. I fancied I actually felt the physical +and psychic influence of that “magnetic personality” +which we all of us talk about but +seldom endeavor to explain.</p> + +<p>And then “Miss Hutchinson” told me that +she was not tired, “not the least little bit”; that +mother and she had “dined on the train”; that it +was, indeed, most kind on my part to have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> +secured a private sitting-room for the joint and +several use of our party and our party’s friends. +So you see, the first impression fled quickly +enough, leaving behind it a glowing streak of +recollection like unto the half-remembered track +of a shooting star. But, thank Heaven, in +Maggie’s case it was renewed and developed +and perfected until, whether under the spell of +her unwavering friendship or thrilled to ecstasy +by the inarticulate rapture which, at times, she +drew from the infinite storehouse of the violin, +in order to please those near and dear to her, +I can say candidly that she was the goddess of +one small circle, its Athéne and Euterpe rolled +into one. Nor was it long before my wife +claimed her as her greatest friend. That last +saving clause is necessary. This is not <i>my</i> love +story, but, as the astute reader must have perceived +long since, Maggie’s and Karl’s. Yet I +shall be exceedingly surprised—almost as +greatly taken aback as I was by the discoveries +of the next hour—if the said reader, though an +expert dissector of love stories, from the long-drawn-out +wooing of Rachel by Jacob, down +to the <i>motif</i> of the very latest <i>crime passionel</i> in +Paris, shall have guessed already the reason why +Maggie wept when first she met Karl in the +vestibule of the Pall Mall Hotel.</p> + +<p>Apparently, we have all been standing there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> +an unconscionably long time. Really, we have +done nothing of the sort, for I am quite adept +in bringing about the right combination of luggage +porters, lift attendants, chambermaids and +waiters, to secure the best and quickest results +in making people at home in a modern big hotel.</p> + +<p>“I am so glad to be off the steamer,” sighed +Mrs. Hutchinson, gratefully, as she sank into a +spacious chair in our sitting-room. “Walking +along the corridor just now, I caught myself +wondering why the other folk using it did not +lean over at absurd angles. Even yet the carpet +seems to heave gently each half-minute.”</p> + +<p>That was just the sort of remark calculated to +place us at our ease. We chatted freely while +the ladies drank a little champagne and nibbled +a biscuit; I sampled the hotel whisky, and +smoked, together with Karl, at the earnest +request of our fair companions.</p> + +<p>Karl, by the way, did not know the taste of +alcohol, or of any intoxicant. The wisdom of +the gods kept him free from that obsession. +Goodness only knows what would have happened +if the man with a superhuman sense (which it +was, according to our present lights) yielded to +drink!</p> + +<p>Hence, when Mrs. Hutchinson, beginning at +the end of the story, told us that she wrote to +Mrs. Grier from Queenstown, and a computation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> +of hours revealed that the mystery of the +telegram was no mystery at all, the way was +paved by growing familiarity to permit the conversation +to wander off into less well-defined +paths. For the good lady made no secret of the +<i>raison d’être</i> of her letter.</p> + +<p>“Maggie had a dream, or a vision—something +akin to what my old Highland nurse used +to call <i>taichitaraugh</i>, a Gaelic mouthful meaning +‘shadow-sight.’ It was so realistic that it nearly +made her ill, and she startled me considerably, +when she confided it to me, which was not until +twenty-four hours later.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hutchinson, of course, could not guess +what a spark on tinder was one of those time-worn +words in Karl’s ears. I glanced at him +to see if the winged barb had struck home, but +I was not long in discerning that Maggie’s +presence occupied his ordinary senses quite +sufficiently to keep his telegnomic sense dormant. +It might, indeed, stimulate and intensify the +others, but no man would use a telephone or an +opera glass to hear or see his best girl when she +was seated in the same room as himself, would +he? Science can do a lot for us, but I will +back Dame Nature’s idea of a magnet in the +shape of a pretty woman against any wizard +device of the latter-day alchemist.</p> + +<p>Then the mother, at Maggie’s request, essayed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> +to give us the history of an afternoon +dream on board the good ship <i>Merlin</i>. The +day was Sunday, and the weather had been bad. +The ship was traversing that choppy belt of the +Atlantic which makes the day of rest so particularly +unrestful in the majority of vessels sailing +from New York or Liverpool on a Wednesday. +Indeed, the “White Star Sunday” is an ocean +proverb.</p> + +<p>“Neither of us felt equal to taking luncheon +in the saloon,” said she, “so a deck-steward +brought us some tempting dishes. The sea +subsided rapidly under the change of wind, and +we were comfortable enough after our meal. I +fell into a slight doze. Maggie says she did +not.”</p> + +<p>“No, mother, I am sure I was awake, because +I was running over in my mind Almaviva’s song, +‘Ecco ridente il cielo,’ with the guitar accompaniment +for the violins,” interrupted Maggie.</p> + +<p>Then why, my dear young lady, should your +cheeks flutter <i>now</i> between white and pink, like +a Marie Vornhoot rose, beneath the most attractive +and healthy brown with which sun and sea +have decorated you? And why, with even +greater emphasis, should you have been warbling +to yourself <i>then</i> the love-sick outpourings +of the Seville gallant to his Rosina? I thought +those old operas were, if not dead, for they are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> +immortal, at least buried alive beneath a mound +of Gaiety muslin and the striped cotton habiliments +of many musical comedy coons.</p> + +<p>“Girls get such whimsies in their heads +that they often do not know what they are +thinking about,” replied practical Mrs. Hutchinson. +“Yet there can be no doubt, my dear, +that something extraordinary did occur.”</p> + +<p>“When I woke up,” she continued, addressing +Karl and me, “I found Maggie crying +softly to herself. Naturally I was alarmed, +and when she did not answer I caught her +arm. Then she appeared to recover her wits, +but she frightened me even more thoroughly +by murmuring something about the utter +bliss—”</p> + +<p>“Mother!” broke in the girl, evidently nerving +herself for an ordeal, though her face was +aflame, “let me describe what happened.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well!” said Mrs. Hutchinson, “tell +it your own way. I admit I never got the hang +of it to rights.”</p> + +<p>It was impossible to watch both Karl’s face +and Maggie’s, so I devoted myself to an intent +study of the subtle emotions which sent their +undecipherable shadows across the girl’s eyes. +But the woman does not breathe, or is not +worthy of breath, who cannot be an actress +when the great crises of existence throb across<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> +life’s stage. Indeed, she controlled her expression +and chose her words so well that she +soon led my rambling fancy back to the sufficiently +bewildering climax of her own adventure.</p> + +<p>“Mother has left out what you might call a +predisposing influence,” she said, smiling, and +she spoke to me, not to Karl. “Have you ever +heard of the agonic line?”</p> + +<p>“Has it anything to do with the ‘Personal’ +column in the <i>Times</i>?” was my banal reply.</p> + +<p>“No!” It was Karl who answered, and +there was a timbre in his voice I had not heard +before. It silenced Maggie for the moment. +Perhaps it suggested a chord drawn with nerve-thrilling +effect from her own beloved violin. +Anyhow, he took up the parable.</p> + +<p>“An agonic line is an irregular line, running +generally north and south, which marks those +parts of the earth’s surface where the magnetic +needle points to the true north. There are +three of them, and they are slowly changing +their positions,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Thank you! I could not have explained +it so clearly,” smiled Maggie, though she persistently +averted her eyes. “Well, during the +morning, the Chief Officer had been telling +me things about the deviation of the compass, +the importance of the agonic lines, the magnetic<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> +vagaries of some parts of the globe, and +the great value to sailors of a recent discovery +that at a certain point in front of the foremast +the compass ceases to be affected by the +polarization which is set up in all iron ships.”</p> + +<p>Ting! Some tiny nerve-bell jingled in my +head. Polarization! Karl and I exchanged +looks. We had rapidly made the same calculation. +Allowing for difference of sun-time, +Miss Margaret’s disturbing dream-vision, whatever +it disclosed, must have been exactly contemporaneous +with Karl’s poker-juggling in +the Mitre Hotel.</p> + +<p>“<i>Now</i> what is it?” demanded Mrs. Hutchinson, +whose shrewd Scottish eyes were quick +to detect the secret telegraphy between the +others, for Maggie flushed most charmingly +again, and we three established a circuit of +intelligence. “Why do you all gowp like that? +You make my flesh creep. The next thing +you will be telling me is that there are ghosts in +the room!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br> + +<small>THE KEY OF THE TREASURE-HOUSE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Well</span> might Mrs. Hutchinson rail at us with +a certain peevishness; here was true midsummer +madness, if ever the dog-days’ frolic gamboled +within the bounds of staid London. And what +a wild jostling of ideas, apparently remote as +the poles, contributed to the medley; agonic +lines, polarization of ships and fire-irons, a +curious experiment in an hotel at Oxford, and +a girl humming <i>Il Barbiere di Siviglia</i> in mid-Atlantic—these +were the magic passwords, it +would seem, to a new wonder-cave of Ali Baba. +I fancied I could hear those fiddles singing the +accompaniment to the lovelorn count’s impassioned +verses. In this latest version of the immortal +comedy I was playing Figaro, and Mrs. +Hutchinson, if judged by her present impatient +mood, provided a fair substitute for Dr. +Bartholdo.</p> + +<p>Yet, what did it all mean? Karl, to my own +knowledge, had not despatched his telegnomic +sense on a roving commission that Sunday afternoon +at Oxford. He had subjected a poker to +what he termed “magnetic induction” merely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> +in order to illustrate his unimpaired bodily and +mental vigor when I expressed some anxiety +about the effect on his health of practising too +often a new and perhaps dangerous force. +Again, if not at that moment, he had striven +subsequently to glean some intelligence of +Maggie’s doings, only to encounter repeated +failure day after day, until she met Signor Bocci +in Liverpool a few hours previously. Nevertheless, +I was sure that communication between +those two was established in that instant, a +sympathetic contact, conscious in the maiden’s +case, unconscious in the youth’s. Perhaps, while +humming Almaviva’s strains, the Rosina of the +<i>Merlin</i> applied the words to herself.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">And certain stars shot madly from their spheres</div> +<div class="verse">To hear the sea-maid’s music.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>I turned my eyes for a second from Maggie’s +face and looked at Karl. He reminded me of +a youthful warrior of the age of chivalry, who, +guarding his armor in some holy fane during +the still watches of the night, found a sweet +vision smiling on him instead of the stone saint +or stained-glass picture of crude daylight. Evidently +he was unaware of having exerted any +perturbing influence on Maggie. He was quite +genuinely surprised by the coincidence revealed +by her words.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>The girl herself seemed to be anxious that we +should not answer her mother’s question.</p> + +<p>“It is difficult to tell you exactly what happened,” +she exclaimed hurriedly. “I was so +confused afterwards that I scarcely could form +a coherent idea, and that is why mama complains +that I have not said much about it. But +I can give you certain incidents which stood out +clearly. In the first place, I seemed to lose my +senses. I had a curious sensation akin to that +felt if one’s arm goes to sleep, as we say; only +this was general in its effect, and I had not been +sitting in an awkward position. Then I heard +voices. Everything was dark, though, of course, +you understand it was broad daylight on board +the ship. Still, I thought I heard two men +talking about me, and their remarks were so +peculiar that I could not help listening. I +should explain that the men were not on board. +Indeed, I believe, they were then, and are now, +in New York.”</p> + +<p>“Were they Wilhelm Steindal and Paul +Constantine?” said Karl, eagerly.</p> + +<p>The question was out before he realized that +it had better have remained unspoken. The +effect was as instantaneous as any writer of +melo-farce could hope for. Mrs. Hutchinson +clapped her hands in her excitement, and +Maggie became very red indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>“So you, too, knew all about it,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Karl. “I know absolutely nothing +of any incident on board the <i>Merlin</i> which +affects, in any way, the experience you are +relating.”</p> + +<p>“Or afterwards?”</p> + +<p>“None, whatever. But I am interrupting you. +I am sorry. It was quite involuntary on my +part.”</p> + +<p>Miss Hutchinson appeared to gain confidence +after this. She and Karl, and, to a certain +extent, I myself, were in the position of ships +of different nationalities on the high seas, using +the same code-signals, but unable to interpret +them without reference to a translation.</p> + +<p>“It is very astonishing to my mother and me +to hear you mention those names,” she said. +“We only met Mr. Constantine a week before +we left the States. He introduced us to Mr. +Steindal. At that time, and, indeed, during the +past year, I entertained the hope of earning +some degree of fame as a violinist. I have +made successful appearances in Berlin, London, +New York, Boston, and other places, and Mr. +Steindal should have proved to be an exceedingly +valuable acquaintance. But Mr. Constantine +offended me the evening before we sailed, and +the words I heard in my dream bore out his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> +previous conduct so completely that I have +almost resolved to abandon the idea of a professional +career.”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever hear anything like it?” demanded +Mrs. Hutchinson, who was brought +back with a bump from psychical manifestations +to the hard matter-of-fact details of existence. +“Here is this foolish girl thinking of foregoing +the results of several years of expensive tuition +and some very flattering public receptions, just +because she had a queer vision in mid-Atlantic.”</p> + +<p>“Mother, dear, there was no vision about +Mr. Constantine’s behavior at Manhattan +Beach?”</p> + +<p>“No, but that wretched Armenian is not all +the world! It is a nice thing if two Anglo-Indians +allow a dark person of his type to affect +their lives.”</p> + +<p>Neither Karl nor I moved a muscle when +Manhattan Beach was mentioned. But how +quaintly these youngsters’ careers had become +interwoven after so many years of separation! +And what an amazing thing it was that Maggie +<i>heard</i> but did not <i>see</i>, when one remembered +that music broke the seal of Karl’s spiritual +hearing! However, I must restrain my speculative +thoughts, for Maggie was speaking again.</p> + +<p>“I call it a dream,” she said earnestly, “but +I use that word for want of a better. I feel in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> +my heart, in my brain, that I really did hear +what Constantine and Steindal said to each +other. They planned a great many things, and, +if proof were wanted, Steindal’s agent met us +at Liverpool to-day and made the offer I told +my mother of last Sunday.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hutchinson, poised on the very pinnacle +of doubt, nodded her head.</p> + +<p>“That is true enough,” she admitted, smiling +in her perplexity, “and it is all through you, +Mr. Grier, or shall I call you Karl? That is +why I wrote to your mother. We were delayed +by fog in the Irish Sea, or we should have been +in London before her telegram could have +reached you.”</p> + +<p>Karl only smiled in reply. It was almost +impossible for either him or me to comment on +the broken narrative which reached us. How +bewildered and unnerved the two ladies would +be if they realized the minuteness with which +we fitted each statement they made into the +detailed story we already possessed!</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Maggie, speaking very slowly, +“no doubt you have been wondering how you +can possibly be bound up with my affairs?”</p> + +<p>She paused, as if to permit Karl to give some +hint that he already possessed the clue to her +wanderings in the maze of intangible things. +He helped her by saying:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>“We have a story to tell, Miss Hutchinson. +I, too, have undergone some extraordinary experiences, +but most certainly I did not encounter +you in spirit-land while you crossed the Atlantic. +I may say that I endeavored to do so, for reasons +that shall be made clear, but I failed.”</p> + +<p>She smiled delightedly. It occurred to me +that Karl had said exactly that which she wanted +him to say. I pictured Hooper reveling in +analytical hair-splitting when we related this +conversation to him. Nevertheless, the solution +of this latest problem in occultism baffled both +him and me for many a day.</p> + +<p>“I will pass from Steindal and Constantine,” +she said, “and come to the next phase of my +novel experience. Their voices ceased, and I +seemed to recover some sense of my true surroundings. +I knew I was at sea in a moving +vessel. I could feel the vibration of the propeller, +but the only human being of whose +presence I was conscious was you, Mr. Grier.”</p> + +<p>“What an unreceptive soul I must possess!” +cried Karl, gallantly.</p> + +<p>“You came and took hold of my left hand,” +she went on. “You said, ‘Maggie, don’t you +remember me? I am Karl Grier.’ I think +I endeavored to reply, but the words seemed +to die away in my throat. You bent over me +and told me not to accept the contract Steindal’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> +agent would offer me at Liverpool. Then, +you gave me a lot of news about yourself and +your father and mother. The years seemed +to slip back until we were children again in +the Kalanullah tea-garden. I don’t believe I +have ever been so delighted as I was by the +knowledge that we had both gone back to our +childhood. Have you really no knowledge +whatever of all this?”</p> + +<p>Hooper himself could not have discharged +that final question with more unexpected forensic +skill than did this mere girl. It seemed to +afford her the supreme test of his assurance. +Thenceforth, she gave herself no further trouble +on that point.</p> + +<p>Her natural vivacity now replaced the somewhat +hysterical restraint which she had exercised +hitherto. She told us that she had both +seen Karl and heard his voice on three subsequent +occasions, and these visitations, though +in no way alarming while they lasted, were so +mysterious in their semblance of actuality, and +dwelt so constantly in her thoughts, that her +mother, to whom she had related each incident +after its occurrence, determined to seek an +interview with Karl, at the earliest opportunity +which presented itself on their arrival in England. +The mother bore out her daughter’s +story at all points, though she stoutly held to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> +the opinion that the whole affair was the outcome +of over-study—Maggie having worked +very hard during her visit to the States—combined +with the exercise of some telepathic gift +which Karl had undoubtedly exercised when +a child.</p> + +<p>But even Mrs. Hutchinson was compelled +to retreat from this logical fortress when Karl +asked me to tell his old friends all that had +taken place at Oxford. Maggie listened with +a ferverish intentness that did not escape me. +Her shining eyes and parted lips betrayed her. +She impressed me as searching for some key +which should open the door of complete understanding, +but the search was not rewarded—that +much I knew when we bade each other +“good-night” at a late hour.</p> + +<p>Karl and I escorted the ladies to the corridor +in which their room was situated, the hotel +being so full that we were scattered over three +floors. Mrs. Hutchinson, glad to escape from +the brain-tangling problems which we could +not shirk in discussing recent events, was chatting +with Karl about his father and mother, +and I seized the opportunity to put a question +to pretty Miss Margaret as she walked by my +side.</p> + +<p>“In your subsequent visions of Karl,” I +said, “did you ever attempt to speak to him?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>“No. It was either impossible or I did not +experience the desire.”</p> + +<p>She answered so readily that I was encouraged +to go a step further.</p> + +<p>“Did you, of your own will, strive to resist +these appearances, notwithstanding their seemingly +pleasurable nature?”</p> + +<p>She looked at me quickly, and the ghost of +a smile dimpled her cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said simply. “I do not mind +confessing that they frightened me terribly, +afterwards, when I thought about them, but +not at the time.”</p> + +<p>“Were you thinking of Karl when you met +Bocci this afternoon?”</p> + +<p>“How could we help it, when his predictions +were verified the instant we stepped off the +steamer’s gangway? I must have spoken of +him to my mother just before he saw us standing +in the Customs shed. Oh, how strange it +all is! What will be the outcome?”</p> + +<p>A man passed us and glared at me as though +he would like to wring my neck. I imagine +he thought I was worrying Maggie. She had +changed her travelling costume for a dinner-blouse +and a light silk skirt. I noticed that +her bosom heaved tumultuously and a soft light +leaped into her eyes. But I pursued the topic +no further, and we parted a few seconds later.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>Next morning, Karl and I were waiting in +the vestibule to take the ladies in to breakfast, +when the inquiry clerk slipped from behind +his desk and approached me with a business-like +air.</p> + +<p>“Are you Mr. Grier, sir?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No, this is Mr. Grier.”</p> + +<p>Karl looked at the little man, who seemed +half prepared to tremble before another Olympian +glance. But Karl’s face would reassure +a timid child when, as Hooper put it, he was +“disconnected.”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” said the clerk, “but I +thought you would like to know that there +was a man here last night inquiring for you.”</p> + +<p>“A man?” said Karl, blankly.</p> + +<p>The hotel official, even if he had curt manners +with unprotected travellers, was smart +enough to discriminate between real mahogany +and veneer.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered off-handedly, “a foreigner, +an Italian, I think. He did not want to +see you, but he seemed anxious to find out if +you were staying here, and if you had met +Mrs. and Miss Hutchinson. Of course I told +him you were in the hotel, but as for the ladies, +I knew nothing whatever about them.”</p> + +<p>“Did he give you his name?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>Karl described Bocci, and the inquiry clerk +recognized him instantly.</p> + +<p>“That’s him,” he cried (people always do +say “That’s him,” no one save a parson or a +school-master uses the nominative); “I hope +I did right in choking him off?”</p> + +<p>“You’re a wonder,” said Karl, laughing, +and the clerk quitted us, feeling that he must +have greatly mistaken the looks and utterances +of this exceedingly nice young gentleman on +the previous day.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br> + +<small>THE SCENE IN THE GARDEN COURT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Of</span> course, it was not to be expected that +these morning hours of sunshine (London +having embarked, as it turned out, on a giddy +whirl of a fortnight’s fine weather) would find +us in the tension to which we were strung over-night. +Such a thing would be unreasonable, +almost inhuman. The merry jingle of the +hansoms coming through the open windows, +the glimpses of omnibus tops freighted with +wearers of flower hats and frivolous muslins, +the gay horn-blown ta-ran-ta-ra of the coaches +crossing Trafalgar Square or climbing the Haymarket—this +gladsome medley must banish +problems which appealed to either science or +credulity. London was astir and enjoying itself, +and who were we that we should resist its +decorus gaiety?</p> + +<p>At that period motor-cars were still sufficiently +uncommon in England to lend a piquant +novelty to my suggestion that we should avail +ourselves of a friend’s offer to me and borrow +his car for the day. That was soon arranged.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> +I sat with the chauffeur on the front seat, Karl +and the ladies occupied the tonneau, and when +Mrs. Hutchinson and her daughter had recovered +from the silent dread of whirring past +all other traffic and utilizing apparently impossible +openings between heavy vehicles, they +began to enjoy the ride immensely.</p> + +<p>We ran through Surbiton, Esher, and Guildford, +over the Hog’s Back to Farnham, where +we ate with the normal appetites of four healthy +Britons. We came home by way of Aldershot, +Virginia Water, Windsor Great Park and +Staines, driving gloriously not only through the +royal domain but through several Acts of +Parliament as well.</p> + +<p>Karl, by reason of the nearing end of the +Midsummer Term, must return to Oxford that +night, so it was interesting to note how much +he made of those flying hours of freedom. At +least a year a minute fell away from the conventional +coating of the decade which had sped +since he and the girl were children together. +“Mr. Grier,” and “Miss Hutchinson” quickly +gave place to “Karl” and “Maggie.” We were +not at Barnes Bridge on the outward journey +before Karl had declared his fixed resolution to +wheedle a motor-car out of his father the day +he quitted the University, and the pair of them +were planning where “we” should drive this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> +chariot of delight during the wonderful summer +of next year!</p> + +<p>Maggie, it appeared, was much enamored of +cathedrals. Here was a fine inspiration to provide +excursions for long summer days! Bless +you, they had seen Canterbury, Salisbury and +Ely in a sentence, and were doing sums in the +following breath to find out if far-away York +were achievable. Ah, how potent the engineer +who constructs that magic machine which carries +the day-dreams of the young! What feats it +accomplishes, how smoothly do its noiseless +wheels glide over the most perfect of roads! +Yet we all possess the treasure, and happy the +man or woman who has not lost the joy of +living, losing with it the willing slave which +carries them whither they list. This wonder-coach +is capable of astounding performances. +It shall whisk you through many cities and +strange lands. What does it matter if the scene +be new to your eyes when you are brought to it +by the sober stuffiness of a railway plus a return +ticket? You have been there twice, that is all, +and surely the first visit, in imagination, far +surpassed the second, in reality.</p> + +<p>Indeed, we enjoyed ourselves so greatly that +the crassness of things in general was sure to +bring about some unpleasantness. There is a +substratum of truth in the old Celtic idea of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> +certain people being fey before death. None of +us died, I am glad to say, but we should have +been wise had we outrageously made off with +that motor-car, scurrying far from London ere +nightfall, and leaving it to my ingenuity to +explain matters to my lending friend.</p> + +<p>We reached the hotel at six o’clock, and there +was Signor Bocci impatiently awaiting the return +of Mrs. Hutchinson and her violin-playing +daughter. “Business is business,” you know, +and really I could see no reason why the girl +should not accept the splendid offer made by +Steindal’s agent. He showed no disinclination +to discuss it before Karl and me. Nay +more, the little man said he was glad of our +presence.</p> + +<p>“You are-a men of affairs, yes,” he said +volubly, “and in-a dis oafer I haf-a displayed +to de signorina de career mos’ magnificent, is +it-a not?”</p> + +<p>Certainly his words were justified to outward +seeming, though the very hyalescence of Steindal’s +undertaking should have warned us that +things were not so clear as they looked. Here +was a girl of little more than eighteen, yet <i>the</i> +agent, one of the few men in the world of music +who could make or break an artiste, was binding +himself to give her two “star” performances in +London, with full orchestra and distinguished<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> +vocal soloists, guaranteeing an expenditure of +£200 on each concert, one in the autumn and +another in the spring of the following year, +agreeing to hand her three fourths of the proceeds +after (and if) they exceeded the sum +named, and, finally, pledging at least thirty +public appearances at a fee of twenty guineas +each within the ensuing twelve months! Think +of it, ye budding geniuses! How the strings +would twank and the pens splutter if some +moon-frenzy seized impresario or publisher to +give <i>you</i> a start like that!</p> + +<p>Karl, like Mrs. Hutchinson and myself, advised +acceptance, though I discovered afterwards +that he had a great repugnance to the notion of +Maggie appearing on a public platform. That +was natural enough, poor fellow. He didn’t +want to have all the young sparks about town +telling each other, and, what was even less endurable, +telling Maggie, that she was the most +beautiful creature under the sun. No man, +short of an actor, can pretend that he likes his +inamorata to face the footlights. Stageland has +its own domestic idylls, to be sure—and very +sweet and wholesome they oft may be—but +they are of a different blend to those which find +general acceptance.</p> + +<p>Yet Maggie, who listened seriously to us all, +urged with gentle insistence that no harm would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> +be done if we gave Steindal’s magnanimity +another day’s thought, and, when I saw that +her mother was quite willing to accede to this +request, I backed it up, with the result that +Signor Bocci’s eyebrows became very fierce, +and he murmured something about the impossibility +of his principal keeping the offer open +indefinitely.</p> + +<p>“I do not think my daughter is asking for any +unreasonable delay,” replied Mrs. Hutchinson +with some spirit. “This is practically our first +business interview. Your meeting with us on +the landing-stage, though exceedingly kind on +your part, can hardly be regarded as giving us +an opportunity for full discussion. Therefore, +to promise a decision to-morrow is speedy +enough in all conscience, seeing that when I +wrote to Mr. Steindal eight months ago he never +even replied to my letter.”</p> + +<p>This was a facer for Bocci. Nevertheless, he +struggled gamely.</p> + +<p>“Herr Steindal has a great-a many letters +from-a de amateur,” he said. “He hear in +New-a-York ’ow Mees Ootchinson blay—”</p> + +<p>“He did nothing nothing of the kind,” cried +the elder lady. “That is the extraordinary part +of it. He met her, it is true, but he admitted +he had not been to any of her concerts. I am +beginning to think, signor, that my daughter is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> +right and we others are wrong. Will you leave +a copy of the contract for our consideration?”</p> + +<p>“O-ah, yes,” said he instantly, and, being a +man of rapid perception, he did not press any +more for completion that day.</p> + +<p>Certainly I was puzzled by Steindal’s tactics. +Allowing that he was actuated by the basest +motives, that Constantine was paying the bill, +and that their precious compact would reveal +its intent before many weeks had passed, it was, +nevertheless, a singular course they had chosen. +What possible harm could result to Maggie +Hutchinson if she seized the splendid opening +dangled before her eyes by the Jew? All he +asked in return was a reasonable monopoly, +voidable by his failure to carry out his undertakings +in their entirety. From her point of +view, it was the most convincing case of “Heads +I win, tails you lose” I ever heard of in connection +with a profession where contracts are +apt to be one-sided.</p> + +<p>And the haze did not lessen when Maggie +became confidential that evening after dinner. +Karl had gone, Mrs. Hutchinson was writing +letters, and I had secured two chairs beneath +the palms in the Garden Court. Here we could +hear the band, watch the celebrities of the hour, +and talk without listeners.</p> + +<p>“I hope you are not a materialist,” said the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> +girl, after I had uttered some truism about +modern life.</p> + +<p>“Perish the thought!” I answered, “though, +as one more than double your extreme age, will +you permit me to ask what is your definition of +a materialist?”</p> + +<p>“A gross person—a species of pig man,” +was her sufficiently amazing reply.</p> + +<p>“Are you thinking of Steindal?” I asked +involuntarily, though I had resolved to keep +clear of the topic for the hour.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no. He was not in my mind at all. +The music, the lights, the soft tones of the +women’s dresses, all the harmony to eye and +ear of our present surroundings, carried a +thought to me. I cannot help knowing that +within a very short distance of this pleasant +place one can find great misery. Which of +these states reveals the truth in life?”</p> + +<p>“Both. It is well to hold a balance between +them.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Now, one has read how rich +and well-born men and women, in other days, +have had a vision which so influenced their +lives that they forthwith abandoned wealth +and rank, and devoted themselves to the painful +service of their suffering brethren. Such +visions may not be so frequent to-day, but it is +a matter of constant occurrence for a similar<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> +result to be achieved, and achieved in a single +hour, whereby the future years of existence are +cast irrevocably into a new mold.”</p> + +<p>“You are speaking solely of spiritual influences?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>She moved slightly. My question was unexpected. +Some of these tender plants of +human growth are so delicately constituted +that they wince physically if you prod their +souls with a verbal arrow.</p> + +<p>“I can scarce distinguish between states,” +she said, “nor have I thought or read deeply +enough to claim any clear idea as to what constitutes +spirituality. I suppose it sounds strange +to hear a girl not yet nineteen talking of such +matters at all. But in Berlin one is taught to +think earlier than in England, and a musical +training is prone to develop fanciful moods.”</p> + +<p>She was fencing with me. I determined to +risk another of those insidious arrow-flights.</p> + +<p>“May I take it that your present introspective +condition of mind arises from your experiences +on board the <i>Merlin</i>?” I said.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>Her lips set with a snap. It was quite clear +that however little Karl’s supernormal powers +affected him they had exerted a truly remarkable +influence on Maggie Hutchinson, an influence, +too, so novel and mysterious that she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> +seemed almost to fear its analysis. So I endeavored +to help her.</p> + +<p>“The man would be a fool who denied the +enduring effect on the mind of a moment’s +inspiration,” I said. “He might as well argue +that the inconceivably rapid passage of an +electric current through the body could not +contort it permanently or even shrivel it into +practical annihilation.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” she cried impulsively, “that is how it +seems to me. Our poor frail human form cannot +choose but obey the soul. At least it must +be so if we would be governed by noble instincts +and strive ever to reach a higher individual +ideal. When the soul yields to the body there +you have the downfall, the yielding of the man +to the ape.”</p> + +<p>She leaned forward, with her right elbow +on her knee and her well-modeled chin supported +by the thin, long, nervous fingers which +bespoke the artistic faculty. Spatulate-fingered +folk should keep away from strings and easels.</p> + +<p>As it pleased her to attach an ethical significance +to my words I did not gainsay her. Indeed, +something told me to leave her to her +thoughts for a little while, and, as she appeared +to be listening intently to the music, I sank +back into my chair and gave her the choice of +continuing the conversation or not, as she saw fit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>The band, a small but most excellent orchestra, +had just rendered a soft and harmonious +prelude. I did not recognize the air until +a violoncello, exquisitely played, struck into +the swelling grandeur of Vulcan’s song from +<i>Philemon et Baucis</i>. Perhaps the girl knew +the words as well as the music. I did not. +Looking them up afterwards, in Santley’s +translation, I found them curiously à propos +of the strange, all-surmounting force which +was in our minds at the moment.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">Where loud the brazen hammers sound,</div> +<div class="indent">With lurid light the furnace glowing,</div> +<div class="verse">Down in my kingdom underground,</div> +<div class="indent">Aside vain ceremony throwing,</div> +<div class="indent">I’m sovereign of all around.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Certainly my companion was given a glimpse +of some underground kingdom illuminated by +lurid light, for I quickly discovered that she +was rapt into a state of exaltation which paid +no heed to the visible world of fashion and +light and music which surrounded us. I spoke +to her gently more than once. It was useless. +She sat there, with tireless eyelids and glistening +eyes, to all outward semblance absorbed +in Gounod’s majestic chant, but really, as I +alone knew, unseeing and unhearing save to +sights and sounds not given to my comprehension.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>The suddenness of the thing was positively +startling. According to Hooper’s experiences, +supplemented by my own with Karl, it was +probable she would regain ordinary consciousness +if touched. Yet I forbore, hovering +between anxiety on the girl’s behalf and desire +not to break in on a trance which might yield +some knowledge of actual value. I have often +wondered since if any observant eyes among +the crowd of loungers were watching us. We +must have offered a queer picture, a scene from +the charade of life as it is staged in a big London +hotel—the wistful-eyed girl, in a graceful +pose, gazing blankly into space, as it seemed, +and pondering some wordless problem, and the +gray-haired, sparely built man watching her +with a keenness that must have been very +puzzling to any onlooker.</p> + +<p>At last the music ceased. There was some +applause, and, to my great relief, Maggie regained +her wits.</p> + +<p>Then a spasm of real passion convulsed her +face, as though some fierce gust had swept +from a thunder-cloud to distort the smooth +mirror of a lake. Reasoned thought was slow +in resuming its sway. I was sure she would +spring to her feet and scream aloud. Yet it +was evident that each instant she was becoming +more conscious of her environment and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> +gaining strength to repress the agony which +wrung her bosom.</p> + +<p>With all my world-wandering and its consequent +carelessness of mere outward effect, +notwithstanding that wayward Celtic temperament +which is apt to set Mrs. Grundy at +defiance, the upper British crust of conventionality +was sufficiently hard on me to demand a +rapid glance around the Garden Court <i>to see +if anybody was looking</i>!</p> + +<p>The whole roomful of people might have +been gaping at us with twenty scandal-power +for all I cared a moment later. Maggie grasped +my wrist with a strength which I would not +have credited her with, though your skilled +violinist must need have good muscles.</p> + +<p>“I have heard Constantine raving most +terribly,” she whispered, in tense accents, close +to my ear. “He has arranged to sail from +New York on Saturday, and his object in coming +to England is to murder Karl!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br> + +<small>CONSTANTINE TAKES A JOURNEY</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> first lucid intent was to lead the girl +away from that place of gapers. She was +overwrought. Perhaps the music, flooding her +soul with harmony, had proved a mischievous +adjunct to the somewhat exciting topic of our +discourse. But, with a little gasp or two, she +recovered her self-possession. Some experience +of a platform, of facing singly the dim rows of +upturned faces, is of utmost value in these +emergencies. In my youth, being both shy +and nervous, I was speedily cured from those +ailments by becoming a newspaper reporter. +Many a time, walking towards the platform +through a densely packed audience, have I +been cheered loudly as the candidate, or lecturer, +and then boohed vehemently by people +annoyed at their own mistake. This treatment, +repeated every night for a week, will remove +the worst attack of bashfulness.</p> + +<p>So Maggie, now, with a well-simulated laugh, +drove the terror from her lips if not from her +eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>“No,” she said; “it has passed. Let us +remain here.”</p> + +<p>She seated herself again. To deceive the +curious, in case we were being watched, I lit +a cigarette, strolled towards the orchestra, and +asked the leader, whom I knew, to play a +favorite waltz, one of Waldteufel’s. The obliging +Hungarian (whose name was O’Rourke!) +promptly exhibited an “Extra” card, and I +returned to our alcove, “the cynosure of every +eye,” as we used to say in good journalese.</p> + +<p>Maggie’s brown eyes had grown larger and +darker, her face smaller and white, during +my brief absence.</p> + +<p>“Better not risk another experiment like +that,” I suggested, feeling guilty in not insisting +that her mother should be warned at once.</p> + +<p>“You need have no fear in that regard. I +am quite incapable of undergoing such an ordeal +again to-night.”</p> + +<p>Certainly her appearance bore out her words. +It occurred to me instantly that she shared with +Karl the intuitive knowledge of a temporary +exhaustion of the dynamic store which fed this +wonderful sixth sense. It was not a continuous +endowment, like sight or hearing. Its +use drew upon a fund, obviously of limited +extent in Maggie’s case, which, when depleted, +restored itself by slow, natural processes. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +fitted this discovery into other parts of the +puzzle. Like a child arranging one of those +interesting toys made of a number of equal +cubes bearing a section of a picture on each +face, no sooner did I identify any special feature +in telegnomy than I marked its assigned +place on the chart I had constructed in my +mind.</p> + +<p>“You seem to have had a trying experience,” +I said, encouragingly.</p> + +<p>“Do I? What did I say, how did I look, +when I awoke?”</p> + +<p>When a girl asks a question of that sort she +is quite normal. I reassured her.</p> + +<p>“I have no recollection of being afraid while +I was listening to Constantine,” she explained. +“It was the half-waking remembrance of what +he said that terrified me. I seemed to think +that he was about to—to stab Karl with a +knife that very instant. Oh, it was dreadful!”</p> + +<p>“Tell me what took place. Did you see +him?”</p> + +<p>“No. I only heard vaguely, as one might +hear violent words and the sound of blows +through a thin partition. When the ’cello +began to play the lament of Vulcan, I suddenly +understood that a great many mythological +attributes of gods and goddesses must +have arisen from a more or less accurate perception<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> +by studious ancients of unknown or, +rather, little-used human powers. But why +are you smiling? Is that a very old discovery?”</p> + +<p>“It becomes newer every day. Forgive me, +Miss Hutchinson. I was really congratulating +myself on my own perspicacity. I was sure +that the words, as well as the music, had affected +you.”</p> + +<p>“But why am I so helpless against these +attacks?” she murmured, pathetically. “What +is this man, Constantine, to me that his voice +should sound in my ears though half the earth +intervenes?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes became suspiciously limpid, but +she lifted her head defiantly.</p> + +<p>“Why should I dread him, too?” she cried. +“It seems, somehow, that were it not for him I +should not have met you and Karl. There +can be no doubt that we should not have met +so soon. And, with you two to help, it should +certainly be an easy matter to circumvent +Constantine.”</p> + +<p>“Is it placing too great a strain on you to +ask what you have heard?”</p> + +<p>She bent nearer. Almost a child in years, +she seemed to be changing into a woman—with +all a woman’s passion and capacity for +endurance—changing even while we sat there +amidst the babel of talk in many a foreign<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> +tongue, with the tender voluptuous plaint of +the waltz beating like a heart in rhythmic +diapason.</p> + +<p>“This is the time I grow frightened of myself,” +she said, with a wistful little smile. “Just +now I was afraid on Karl’s behalf. I wish—and +yet I do not wish—that some one else were +favored with these visions. Sometimes they are—quite—thrilling. +But this one thrilled me +in an exceedingly unpleasant way. Have you +seen Sarah Bernhardt in that awful play, wherein +she hears her lover being tortured to make him +confess a secret which she knows? Well, I felt +something like that when I came to a knowledge +of my whereabouts. What time is it now in +New York?”</p> + +<p>I glanced at my watch. It was 9.30 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span></p> + +<p>“A little after four o’clock in the afternoon,” +I said.</p> + +<p>“Then Constantine is in his office. He deals +in grain, among other things. One day he explained +to me the manner in which a silver +currency in Russia and India affects the business +done on a gold standard in Canada and the +States. Sometimes his agents are instructed to +buy above the market rate so as to equalize +quotations. He is reputed to be a very clever +financier.”</p> + +<p>“You know him fairly well?” I asked. There<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> +was never a woman born who could tell a story +without parentheses. These side issues are as +essential to her recital as gussets to a dress.</p> + +<p>“I have met him several times. I must confess +he was interesting until he asked me to +marry him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he reached that stage?”</p> + +<p>“You can put it that way if you like. Such +a thought had never crossed my mind previously. +He became hateful to me at once. I could not +endure his presence. I would as soon think of +embracing something cold and clammy, like a +snake.”</p> + +<p>I did not point out that a snake is neither cold +nor clammy. A nice young python, for instance, +in his multi-colored spring suit, is as grateful +and comforting to the touch as a roll of soft +plush. But the antipathy of woman for the +serpent is an old feud, harking back, I fancy, to +the beginning of things. You ought to hear +some of the queer tales about snakes current +among the natives of India.</p> + +<p>Maggie brushed away the memory of the +Armenian’s love-making with a gesture of +disdain.</p> + +<p>“Gounod’s music set me a-dreaming,” she +said. “If you indulge in composition there is +no better jumping-off place than one of those +delicious minor chords wherein the motif flutters<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> +for a moment before it enters upon a new phase. +I had run away ahead of the air when I experienced +that pins-and-needles sensation I have +spoken about——”</p> + +<p>“Were you cold?” I broke in.</p> + +<p>“Slightly. Not as one feels an icy draught of +air, but rather the chilliness of sitting motionless +in a cold room. Instead of the music I heard a +telephone bell. Constantine’s voice answered. +There was a pause, and some one, Steindal I +expect, told him that Karl Grier was with me +in London, and that I was unwilling to sign +the contract offered by Bocci. Constantine’s +exclamations made me understand so much. +There was more ringing, and I distinctly heard +Constantine reserving a cabin on a steamer +which sails on Saturday. Then he appeared to +give way to a fit of passion. He used horrid +words, and he vowed to stab Karl through and +through. I actually heard the blows of his hand +on the table, and he almost shrieked in his rage. +Yet I thought there was fear in his voice, too. +Oh, please tell me, do you think that this is all +madness? I am afraid again, now, not of that +man, but of myself!”</p> + +<p>Here was a bright and imaginative girl on the +verge of hysteria owing to the startling exercise +of a sense the existence of which neither she nor +any one connected with her had even suspected<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> +a week earlier. To my thinking, the best way +to calm her natural fears was to insist on the +scientific accuracy of impressions which might +otherwise be regarded as dangerous delusions. +So I took her, with the preciseness of a road-surveyor, +along the strange path already traversed +by Karl, and took care to prove that the +human machine, so far as hearing was concerned, +only acted more speedily and over greater distances +than its iron and copper imitators. Its +limits were exactly the same.</p> + +<p>“If I were favored as you and Karl are, I +should strive to cultivate my knowledge rather +than retard its growth by needless alarm,” I +said. “Luckily, in these days men have learnt +to inquire causes instead of falling flat on their +faces in superstitious awe when they encounter +some new trick of nature. It is only a few +months since a patient, lying in a hospital ward +containing a crucifix, had a complete facsimile +of the sacred image imprinted on the skin of his +shoulder during a thunderstorm. More recently, +a man bathing in the sea, running for +shelter when a storm broke, was struck by +lightning. When picked up, a perfect photograph +of a neighboring building was found on +his breast. Now, these incidents are rightly +regarded as exceedingly interesting, but they are +neither supernatural nor conducive to insanity.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> +Nature acted as a photographer, dispensing with +the tripod, the camera, and the black cloth. +That is all.”</p> + +<p>“It is a good deal,” said Maggie, a trifle +awestricken, but nevertheless pleased, I thought, +to know that others than herself were subjected +to disturbing phenomena.</p> + +<p>Not far distant was sitting a lady of pronounced +shapeliness rendered impressive by her +exceedingly décolleté dress. I recognized in +her the widow of a wealthy provision merchant. +I pointed her out to my companion.</p> + +<p>“The pity is that such genuine lightning effects +are so rare,” I said. “Otherwise our adipose +friend there, passing one of her late husband’s +shops some day, might be indelibly branded +‘Best Home-cured Bacon’ across the broad of +her back.”</p> + +<p>A harmless joke of that kind, even as the +humble necessary worm, can serve a useful purpose. +Maggie was kind enough to laugh, and +we dropped from the clouds forthwith. Mrs. +Hutchinson joined us, but her daughter was so +quiet—being ordinarily a lively girl, with all a +girl’s readiness to quiz good-humoredly her neighbors’ +dresses and looks—that the sharp maternal +scrutiny quickly detected her abstracted air.</p> + +<p>So there was nothing for it but an adjournment +to our sitting-room, where, after prolonged<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> +conclave, we decided that Maggie should not +only decline Steindal’s help, but place herself in +the hands of —— another agent, and risk the +Polish-Jew’s hostility. Again, when Karl’s +murder was being spoken of—though I attributed +little weight to the love-sick Armenian’s +threats—it was essential that his father should +be taken into our counsels. By this time I was +as convinced of the reliability of these telegnomic +sights and sounds as of the existence of animalculæ +invisible to the naked eye but seen through +a microscope.</p> + +<p>Early next morning I telegraphed to my +friend, Grier senior, asking him to come to +London on important business. I also cabled +to a firm in New York, saying it would oblige +me if they ascertained definitely whether or not +Mr. Paul Constantine sailed from that port +during the following day.</p> + +<p>Now, Karl had promised me that, in the event +of any further trances taking place, he would +write to me without delay, giving details and +carefully noting exact times. It came as no +surprise when I opened a telegram from him:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Constantine sails by to-morrow’s Cunarder. +Letter follows.”</p> +</div> + +<p>I showed it to Maggie.</p> + +<p>“You two are beginning to indulge in simultaneous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> +magnetization,” I said. “You may +depend upon it, Karl had a look round New +York about half-past nine last night, Greenwich +time. He brought you with him. If you were +not so timid you would soon be able to see as +well as hear.”</p> + +<p>“You forget that I can see <i>him</i>,” she said, +and her voice was so low that I glanced at her +and was surprised to find her cheeks suffused +with color.</p> + +<p>“Did you see him last night?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“No, but I was conscious of his presence.”</p> + +<p>“Conscious! How?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell,” she answered simply. “I +only know that it is so.”</p> + +<p>“Yet you have astonished me frequently by +your direct way of expressing your meaning. +There are so many forms of consciousness.”</p> + +<p>“Some of them are new to me. When Karl +magnetized your hands did you know what was +happening?”</p> + +<p>“I felt a numbing cold from the wrists to the +finger-tips.”</p> + +<p>“That is akin to my sensation, too, but it is +general, as I have told you already.”</p> + +<p>I laughed. Being an old fogy, I had omitted +a most important factor in the affairs of these +young people. If, as I suspected, Maggie was +as badly smitten as Karl with that curable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> +disease of the heart called love, it was fairly +certain that these two were thinking of each +other at every spare moment of the day, not to +mention their dreams.</p> + +<p>Karl’s letter, explicit enough in all details, +bore out Maggie’s statement. Constantine was +behaving like an incipient homicidal maniac. +He had purchased a deadly looking dagger, of +Sicilian manufacture; hence, it was a reasonable +assumption that the blade would be efficient if +properly used.</p> + +<p>“I purpose meeting the scoundrel and kicking +him into his senses,” wrote Karl, coolly; but his +father and I, assured that Constantine had, indeed, +quitted the States, considered the matter +far too serious to be left to such a haphazard +method of treatment. Grier <i>père</i>, what between +anxiety on his son’s account and annoyance that +the dawn of a splendid career should be clouded +by this rejuvenescence of a faculty which he +fondly believed was long since dead as a doornail, +was not the best of counselors at this crisis.</p> + +<p>In view of the tragedy which did actually take +place, I have often wondered, in those quiet hours +when a man reviews the past without prejudice, +whether any better course was open to us than +that which we adopted.</p> + +<p>Our difficulties were many and embarrassing. +It was not Constantine but we who were liable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> +to be treated as lunatics if we told our story to +any self-respecting policeman. Imagination boggles +at the picture of the “intelligent officer” +when asked to arrest a man on telegnomic information. +As it is not my design to treat jocosely +a most lamentable chapter of Karl’s biography, +I must omit any analysis of the official mind on +that topic.</p> + +<p>After much debate, we decided to deal with +the situation ourselves, and collectively. I must +insist that this was the elder Grier’s plan. True, +I fell in with it, but not without grave foreboding. +Your prosperous, hard-headed man of affairs +does not lay sufficient stress on the overwhelming +power of the primary instincts, and Grier would +have scoffed at any theory that in the triangular +conflict of positive and negative forces set up by +Karl, Maggie, and the Armenian, we had gone +back æons in the life-history of humanity.</p> + +<p>However, I was a party to the scheme, so I +must share its responsibility. Karl’s tutor set +him free for the requisite twenty-four hours, and +we three went to Liverpool to meet the mail +steamer. We intended to persuade Constantine +to remain in that city a few hours, talk over the +whole matter fully and squarely, and point out +to him the utter folly of his pursuit of Maggie +and his design on Karl’s life.</p> + +<p>It was so very straightforward and easy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> +when viewed in the “common-sense aspect.” +As if muddle-headed saws and statutes would +avail against a law of creation! Will you believe +it, we two grayheads completely omitted +Karl’s sixth sense from our calculations! There +were we, full of wise aphorisms and sapient +advice, ready to deal with Constantine on the +basis of a transaction in wheat, awaiting on +the landing-stage the coming of the big steamer, +when Karl, whom neither of us had addressed +for a minute or two, suddenly attracted our +attention by a choking noise.</p> + +<p>He would have fallen had not his father +caught him. His face, usually so cheerfully +healthy, wore a distressing pallor, his lips were +tremulous, his eyes distended.</p> + +<p>I knew, too late, what had happened.</p> + +<p>“Good heavens, Grier!” I whispered, “Karl +has seen Constantine on board the ship!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” murmured Karl, hoarsely, gazing +wildly from one to the other of us. “I saw +him, and he saw me. He has just committed +suicide! He jumped overboard! His body was +caught by the screw! Oh, may the Lord pardon +me! I believe I impelled him to it!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br> + +<small>CONSTANTINE ENCOUNTERS THE SHARK</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> brass-buttoned official of the railway +company or harbor authority was near enough +to pay heed to our strange behavior. He also +caught sufficient of Karl’s excited words to +attach some significance to them, though, of +course, they must have sounded in his ears +like the broken gabble of dementia. Quite +civilly (seeing that we bore the tip-giving +appearance) the man approached.</p> + +<p>“Is the young gentleman ill?” he asked. +“Can I git him anythink?”</p> + +<p>Karl turned and looked at him. The man’s +jaw fell and he stepped back a pace. Away +out in mid-stream of the Mersey I saw the +Cunarder stop; a tug in attendance reversed +engines and dropped astern. There was no +need to tell me that Karl was not mistaken. +Constantine’s soul was even then passing, +somewhere out there amidst the swirling waters. +Within twenty minutes, at the utmost, the +tragedy would be reported ashore, and there +was no knowing what this suspicious policeman<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> +might say, if, as I suspected, he were able +to piece together Karl’s disjointed sentences.</p> + +<p>The situation demanded coolness—it was +no time for vain regrets. I advised Grier to +take Karl to our hotel without an instant’s +delay, and there await my arrival.</p> + +<p>“Make him talk to you,” I insisted. “Keep +him occupied incessantly until I join you.”</p> + +<p>The older man was dazed, frightened a little, +I think, by the glimpse he had caught of a +strange light in Karl’s eyes, but still incredulous, +as we mortals are apt to be when faced +with truth. Indeed we only yield prompt and +unquestioning belief to glib imposture, and +the more outrageous it is the more perfervid +dupes do we become.</p> + +<p>“For Karl’s sake and your own, Grier,” I +whispered, emphatically, “do not hesitate. You +can trust me. I will bring all news. Constantine +is surely dead, but, if we are wrong +and he still lives, I will bring him to you.”</p> + +<p>My earnestness had its effect. Grier hurried +his son away from the landing-stage. +Then I tackled the policeman.</p> + +<p>“You saw that my young friend had a sudden +and severe attack of neurosthenia?” I said.</p> + +<p>The bewilderment left the man’s face.</p> + +<p>“Is that it, sir?” he said. “By gum! it +must be an awful thing. He fairly scared me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>“He scares every one connected with him. +It is not really serious, but it is induced by +excitement, and he often receives strangely +accurate impressions of events that are taking +place at a distance. Just now he imagined +that a friend of his had fallen overboard from +the liner.”</p> + +<p>“So I heard him say, sir, and, s’elp me, if +somethink hasn’t gone wrong!”</p> + +<p>Nothing could be clearer now. The huge +vessel was motionless, her rails were black +with passengers gazing aft, and the tug had +lowered a boat.</p> + +<p>“Well,” I said, “whatever it is there is +little to be gained by adding to the publicity +of it, and you know what fiends these newspaper +men are when they get hold of a sensational +paragraph.”</p> + +<p>My hand went to my pocket, a fine instance +of hypnotic suggestion.</p> + +<p>“I never did see anythink like his eyes, sir,” +said the man, dubiously. I produced a sovereign.</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow!” I murmured in commiseration. +“He is a great trial to us. We really +should not have brought him here. But you +can quite see that we do not want any comment +on his—er—peculiar—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, of course, sir. We chaps often have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> +to keep eyes and ears open and mouths shut, +sir.”</p> + +<p>We moved apart. The Cunarder gained +her berth after a quarter of an hour’s delay. +A stream of passengers flowed down the broad +gangway. Running through the boisterous +greetings of friends and the turmoil of people +anxious to secure their luggage, I heard a +crescendo of broken exclamations which carried +their special import to me alone:</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, it was perfectly shocking. +It has quite spoiled my trip.”</p> + +<p>“Must have been cracked!”</p> + +<p>“A young man like him! Just fancy it!”</p> + +<p>“Guess he was tired of bein’ rich. Never +had that complaint myself.”</p> + +<p>There was no need to ask of whom they +spoke. It was an awkward moment to seek +information from the ship’s officers. The triumph +of organization which marks the Atlantic +mail service would speedily empty the crowded +decks, and already two cataracts of boxes and +steamer trunks were hurtling over the side +into the Customs shed. My opportunity would +soon arrive. So, stifling my horrible imaginings +as best I might, I mixed with the throng, and +thus, by chance, encountered one who had been +an eye-witness of Constantine’s last madness.</p> + +<p>My most recent acquaintance, the man in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> +uniform, while helping a passenger with his +portmanteau, asked if there had been an accident +before the vessel warped alongside the +landing-stage. The answer he received led +him to hail me in passing.</p> + +<p>“Here’s a gentleman who can tell you all +about it, sir,” he said, thinking, no doubt, he +ought to consolidate the gift of that sovereign.</p> + +<p>“Are you a friend of Mr. Constantine’s?” +demanded the stranger, a pleasant-looking, +square-faced man, whom I found afterwards to +be the London partner of an important Anglo-American +house of discount brokers.</p> + +<p>“No. I only happened to accompany some +people who came here to meet him.”</p> + +<p>“Are they waiting yet?”</p> + +<p>“No. They heard of the affair and have +gone. Of course it upset them a good deal.”</p> + +<p>“By Jove, it was ghastly. I knew Constantine—have +done business with him for +years, in fact. He was always a quiet, sober +sort of fellow. I, for one, never suspected he +was given to drink.”</p> + +<p>“Was he?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Well, I am not exactly an expert where +delirium tremens is concerned, but surely this +could be nothing else?”</p> + +<p>“All I have been told is that he threw himself +overboard.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>“That was the finish, natural enough when +one comes to review things again. He kept very +much to himself on board, rather avoided me +and others, we thought; but we put that down +to illness. He had a deck cabin, and seldom +appeared unless the sea was rough. Then he +would find a sheltered place and gaze at the +waves for hours. Yet, whenever I spoke to him, +he was quite civil, a trifle reserved, perhaps, but +as sane as I am myself. Like everybody else, +he seemed to brighten up when we entered the +Mersey. He was standing on the promenade +deck, near the saloon hatch, within a yard of +me, and, like the rest of us, looking at the shipping +in the docks. Suddenly he let out a screech +like a wild Indian. He made me jump, I can +assure you. He was a swarthy-skinned chap, +but his color was green when I turned towards +him. He seemed to be gazing at something in +the water, and so far as I could understand his +words, gurgled deep in his throat, he thought +he saw a shark.”</p> + +<p>“A shark!”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It was all utter rot, of course. I was +so taken aback that I could only stare at him. +Several ladies screamed, they were so frightened; +but Constantine put his hand inside the left +breast of his waistcoat, whipped out a dagger, +and began to stab savagely at the air. I was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> +certain he had gone mad, until, a few minutes +later, a steward told me he had practically lived +on champagne all the way from New York. +Like other men in the neighborhood, I was +thinking seriously of grappling with him from +behind, when he gave another yell and bounded +across the top of the companionway to the starboard +side. That is the Birkenhead side of the +ship, you know, and the deck there was almost +deserted. He knocked three people down who +were in his way, and began to climb the rail. +I made after him, but just missed him, though +my hand touched his heel. He struck the water, +vanished, and just then the ship swung round +towards the landing-stage.”</p> + +<p>“So the screw caught him when he rose,” I +blurted out involuntarily.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you heard of that? I never saw him +again, but his bedroom steward said that when +the tug’s dingey picked him up he was still +living, though a propeller blade had taken a leg +clean off.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he died while they were lifting him out +of the water. Strange thing he should have had +that notion about the shark and then lose a leg, +wasn’t it?”</p> + +<p>I managed to find words to thank my informant, +whose name and address I obtained,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> +though I was so agitated that he expressed his +regret if he had harrowed my feelings with his +recital. Luckily, he was discovered by a Liverpool +merchant whom he knew, and we parted +with a promise to meet in London.</p> + +<p>Though I have seen many distressing sights +during the course of a varied life, I have never +felt so near sickness, so physically overcome, as +amidst that cheery, bustling, chatting crowd. I +drifted away aimlessly, filled with an absurd +terror, which caused me almost to cringe when +I passed a policeman. Ridiculous as the notion +was, I fancied that Karl, his father, Maggie, and +myself were <i>participes criminis</i>, sharers in the +awful secret which led to that poor mangled +body being carried to a mortuary. It is all +very well now to smile at the shaken nerves +which induced this shrinking, self-condemnatory +frame of mind. It was very real and terrible +then, nor was it lessened by the knowledge that +my friends would probably suffer from the same +delusion in their turn.</p> + +<p>Slinking, conscience-stricken, through the barrier, +I saw a refreshment buffet. To this day +I can recall the surprise of the barmaid when I +grabbed a bottle of French brandy and poured +out what she said was two-shillings’ worth of best +cognac, “warranted pure,” which I drank neat.</p> + +<p>“Well, I never!” she gasped.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>“Nor I, hardly ever,” I managed to say, for +the ardent spirit reinvigorated me. And let me +interpolate here, as a breathing-space in a thrilling +moment, that it is a fine thing never to +drink brandy when in good health; thus it becomes +an invaluable tonic in physical suffering +or mental depression.</p> + +<p>Well, I hastened to the hotel, refusing a cab, +in the belief that the brandy and the exercise +would restore the disturbed poise of my faculties. +The walk was a trifle longer than I had counted +on, so a full hour elapsed between our parting +and our meeting. As I expected, Karl was in a +very distressed state, and I was called on to +deride in him the foolish conceit which had +shaken my very soul at the docks. His father’s +British phlegm was superb on this trying occasion. +To him, Constantine was an admitted +scoundrel, and a “nigger” at that.</p> + +<p>“Never heard such nonsense in my life!” he +declared, in the true “Confound it, sir! what d’ye +mean?” manner of John Bull, which a Scotsman +quickly makes his own when he comes South. +“Of course, I am sorry this Armenian firebrand +has taken his own life, but it is quite evident that +if he did not face an Eternal Judge he would soon +be called on to face an earthly one. You talk +about personal responsibility for the death of a +madman, a loony who has visions and carries a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> +long knife concealed on his person! What next, +I wonder? My firm belief is that his untimely +decease was a dispensation of Providence!”</p> + +<p>Having thus called in the big battalion of the +British nation, Mr. Grier preened his chest and +was for an immediate return to Oxford, where +he would remain with his son until the end of +term. You cannot argue with a man who describes +such a tragedy as Constantine’s as an +“untimely decease.” The phrase lent to our +discussion a grim humor, of which my excellent +friend was sublimely unconscious.</p> + +<p>And, indeed, looking back in calmness to the +tumultuous thoughts of that day, I have ever +been thankful that his stolid good sense came to +our aid. It must not be forgotten that Grier +the elder had small experience of Karl’s sixth +sense. He remembered the events of early years +in India, of course, and had heard of Constantine’s +rescue at the time of its occurrence, while +Mrs. Grier’s faithful reports told him that his +son remained a prodigy. But was there ever +an only son who, if ordinarily intelligent, had +not some wonderful attribute known only to his +parents? “So many single chicks so many +prodigies,” the proverb might run. And since +the tea-planter quitted India he had been exceedingly +prosperous in his financial undertakings, +mostly connected with the ever-expanding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> +tea trade. He was one of the wise men who +resisted the temptation to grow the coarse leaf +on his plantations, and now he was reaping the +reward, as the “large output” school was discredited, +whereas Grier’s “fine growth” companies +were amassing wealth.</p> + +<p>Hence, a mind which was wont to be receptive +of esoteric ideas during the long Calcutta nights +of past years was now more occupied with the +affairs of commerce. He was piling up money, +and for what? To enable Karl to enter Parliament, +marry well, and earn a peerage. That +is one form of heredity, when the father’s ambitions +center wholly in the son. So Grier senior +valued foresight, but, as our cousins say, he had +no use for “far sight” as practised by Karl. +I suspected that he was profoundly annoyed +with me for seeming to encourage the exercise +of the telegnomic sense (wherein he was misled +by the accident of our coming together again +owing to its revelations), and it was a proud +moment for me when, not long ago, he confessed +his error and recanted his opinions.</p> + +<p>However, he was a rock to which we clung for +salvation during that storm-tossed afternoon in +a Liverpool hotel, for we had barely resolved to +take the next train to Oxford and London +respectively, than there came a telegram addressed +to Karl.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>He opened and read the message with a +strange listlessness.</p> + +<p>“I was expecting something of the kind,” he +said, handing the slip of pink paper to his father. +“I knew it had ended; I knew it on the landing-stage.”</p> + +<p>The telegram was from Maggie. It ran:</p> + +<p>“Sympathize with you in dreadful event. +We leave England to-night. Farewell.”</p> + +<p>“What does it mean?” I asked incredulously. +“Why is she going so suddenly? How +does she know anything about Constantine? +And what has ended?”</p> + +<p>Karl turned aside and pretended to look out +of the window. The soft-hearted fellow was +ashamed to let us see the tears in his eyes.</p> + +<p>I examined the telegram more closely. It +had been a long time on the way, nearly an +hour. It was despatched before any one on +the landing-stage (save three people, none of +whom could communicate with her) had the +least inkling of the Armenian’s suicide.</p> + +<p>Had Maggie, too, been a spellbound witness +of that elfin spring into the river? Had she +seen all? And what was the significance of +Karl’s weary cry: “I knew it had ended?”</p> + +<p>I glanced at him again, but his head was +bowed, his face hidden by his hands. Silence +was best, just then.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br> + +<small>THE OTHER WOMAN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Where</span> grown men are concerned—men +of the Anglo-Saxon breed, that is—emotion +cannot be other than spasmodic. I have seen +a gentlemanly convict conduct himself with +great dignity during the march to the scaffold. +It was not, poor devil, that he did not fear +death, nor that it was a grateful thing to be +dropped ignominiously out of life on a June +morning, but rather that he, after breaking +many of his country’s laws, obeyed the one +inflexible social edict which regulates good +and bad “form.” Therefore, with a wry grimace +when he emerged from the whitewashed +corridor, and saw that his earthly pilgrimage +would end near the further wall of a small +courtyard, he carried himself with a composure +far beyond that manifested by any +other member of the melancholy procession. +A criminal in one instinct, he was a man in all +the rest. I suppose the real wrench had come +and gone weeks before.</p> + +<p>Now, I had no knowledge of the torture +Karl had undergone until he turned towards<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> +me again, and I found a gravity in his face +which had not been there before. Since that +morning two little lines had developed between +his eyebrows at the junction of nose and forehead. +That is nature’s way of minting her +crude gold—just a touch of the finger of experience, +no matter if the agony be of soul or +body, and there is no machine can stamp its +token more indelibly.</p> + +<p>“Maggie’s message is her last word to me,” +he said. “She means that she will endeavor +never to see or hear from me again.”</p> + +<p>Even his father was troubled by the marked +restraint in his voice, but I felt that the mere +effort of discussion would be helpful.</p> + +<p>“That is a blank impossibility,” I cried. +“You two will find each other whether you like +it or not. You did so before and you will do +it again. The settlement is not in your hands, +unless I err greatly.”</p> + +<p>“You do not understand,” said Karl. “Perhaps +you may meet her sometime. Please tell +her what I have said. Let it rest at that.”</p> + +<p>“If you mean that all this tomfoolery is going +to stop here and now I am heartily glad of it,” +broke in his father. “Had I been aware of +what was going on it would have been ended +long since. Good gracious! what was this unfortunate +fellow, Constantine, to us that we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> +should bother our heads about him? I assure +you, Karl, that the only thing which troubles +me is the fear lest this latter-day witchcraft of +yours may not be interfering with your work +if not actually undermining your health.”</p> + +<p>I regret to say that my respected friend reminded +me just then of Balaam smiting the +ass when she refused to follow the path he had +chosen. But I did not urge the parable aloud. +How could a modern man of business agree to +the contention that his son had set in motion +an irresistible natural force? Most certainly he +“stood in a narrow place, and there was no way +to turn either to the right hand or to the left.”</p> + +<p>But Karl’s obvious wishes should be respected. +I pretended to agree with his father. +I used the customary platitudes anent his +career and the necessity there was to endeavor +in future to repress any manifestation of his +sixth sense. And while I was talking, I saw +the ghost of a sad smile flickering on Karl’s +lips, because he knew that I knew better. I +laughed myself (ostensibly at some trivial remark +by the elder Grier that there would be +some sense in telegnomy if Karl could summon +a waiter quickly by its exercise) when I thought +of Hooper’s scorn of the notion that a fellow +shouldn’t see through a brick wall if he had +the power. I was sure that he would pounce<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> +on the suggestion as another instance of British +disinclination to adopt new ideas!</p> + +<p>We parted soon, and I regard it as not the +least amazing feature of my really close association +with Karl that I did not see him again +for five years.</p> + +<p>That is the sort of queer prank the tides of +existence will play occasionally with the flotsam +and jetsam of humanity. The great highways +of rail and ocean may be bringing the +whole family of the globe into closer communion, +but they have, too, the strange result +of separating units in a way not dreamed of by +our forefathers. Thus, when my wife and I +were in the Western States of America, Karl +was in Germany, making the acquaintance +of his mother’s relatives, and learning again +the iron-clamped syllables which bind German +thought in words which are whole phrases.</p> + +<p>We came back to Europe, to watch the upspringing +of our own youngster, and we transferred +bag and baggage to Heidelberg at the +time chosen by Mr. and Mrs. Grier to establish +themselves in a house in Curzon Street, +Mayfair.</p> + +<p>Of course we kept in touch by correspondence. +Mrs. Grier and my wife sent each +other family news, Grier gave me occasional +“tips” which, by operation of that wonderful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> +machine, the Stock Exchange, took money +from some stranger’s pocket and put it into +mine, merely because one of us bought and the +other sold stock, which neither of us possessed, +in a railway, or a mine, or an industrial company, +in which we had not the slightest commercial +interest.</p> + +<p>Karl, beyond semi-humorous hints, said little +about telegnomy. He kept me duly advised +of his progress in the University. During the +month of May of the year following Constantine’s +death he obtained that much-sought +document of little future value which set forth +the degree of: “<span class="smcap">Grier, Karl</span>, é Coll. Æn. +Fac., die 30° Mensis Maii, Anni—Examinatus, +prout Statuta requirunt,” and the rest of it. +Then, with other youthful sages, he wrote his +name in a leather-covered book, subscribed +himself “Filius Generosis,” and was finally +admitted “ad gradum Baccalaurei in Artibus.”</p> + +<p>He did not secure honors, and in this respect +justified his father’s fear that the adjectival +sixth sense was anything but a help to him. +The truth was that Karl, to whom scholastic +work was too easy, was prone to dream away +many an hour which might have been applied +more profitably from the “Ita testamur” point +of view of the examiners.</p> + +<p>He never alluded to Maggie in his letters,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> +and his omission in this respect reminds me +that I also have been slow in recording the one +really interesting bit of news I learnt from +Hooper when I met him in New York.</p> + +<p>After Constantine’s death, who do you think +hunted up the whereabouts of the girl and her +mother and brought back into their lives, with +redoubled poignancy, the unhappy memory of +a tragedy? None other than Constantine’s solicitors! +The unfortunate Armenian made a +holograph will in New York (which, though self-written, +was quite to the point and properly +witnessed), leaving to Margaret Vane Hutchinson, +daughter of the late William Hutchinson, +tea-planter, Darjeeling, Bengal (an archaic description +of Darjeeling), and at that present date +residing with her mother, Mrs. Alice Holroyd +Hutchinson, in the Pall Mall Hotel, London, +England, “all the real and personal estate” of +which he died possessed. To account for this +astounding bequest he stated that the said +“Margaret Vane Hutchinson is the woman I +intend to marry,” a written testimony of his +views which is all the more to his credit seeing +that Steindal’s Mephistophelian method of securing +the girl’s submission contemplated no +such honorable course. Indeed, I have thought +better of the Armenian ever since I heard of that +clause in the will.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>Naturally, Constantine’s Armenian and Levantine +relatives were very wroth. They would +have liked to torture with hot irons the straightforward +American secretary who found the will +among his employer’s papers, and took good +care that it reached the hands of the trustees +and solicitors to the estate. They wanted to +contest it on various grounds, none creditable, +it may be safely inferred, and had the matter +been left to the girl herself she would have +executed any legal transfer of the property to +the disappointed crew without consideration.</p> + +<p>Her mother, however, thought they had done +quite enough already for Constantine’s sake. +Maggie, after a terrible scene in London on the +day we were in Liverpool, obtained Mrs. Hutchinson’s +consent to the abrupt closing of a professional +career and a departure forthwith to the +Italian Lakes, where they could live in economical +retirement, and Maggie might devote herself +to painting.</p> + +<p>The mother yielded because she feared for +her daughter’s reason. In sober earnest, the +girl was nearly distraught, and was not in her +right mind until they quitted England. But +although adamant in her resolve to withdraw +from the world (had Maggie been a Roman +Catholic nothing could have kept her from +entering some religious community), she rapidly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> +recovered her normal good health and abounding +good spirits. Hence, Mrs. Hutchinson exercised +her native shrewdness when the solicitors ran +her to earth, and it was proposed that her +daughter should forego the fortune thrust upon +her.</p> + +<p>She referred the lawyers to the firm who +looked after her own moderate investments; +there was much legal squabbling, and, you may +be sure, some nice grapes off the bunch fell into +the legal maw. Ultimately, the other Constantines +purchased the business interests of their +kinsman at about half their value—it would +never do for Christian accountants to be taking +annual stock of their dealings—and Maggie +received, from this source and from the dead +man’s personal investments, nearly three quarters +of a million sterling!</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Hooper, in whom the keen +air of New York had brought out the latent +financial instinct, “over three and a half million +dollars”—how he rapped out those wonderful +syllables in clear staccato accents—“that was +what Maggie scooped out of the pot when Karl +called Paul and she saw both hands.”</p> + +<p>“Where are Maggie and the millions now?” +I asked admiringly.</p> + +<p>“I’ve bin thinkin’. There ain’t much in this +codification-of-laws notion anyhow. Guess I’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> +take a vacation, an’ work up some sort of +telegnomy that will materialize,” said he.</p> + +<p>But he was not serious. He was already +earning a reputation as a smart young lawyer, +having passed with distinction all the qualifying +examinations in the States, and, indeed, he +told me later that he was “chewing on,” the +offer of a post as legal adviser to the Paris +Embassy. So far as he knew, the Hutchinson +ladies never left Italy. In the winter, Maggie +might be seen copying pictures in the galleries +of Florence or studying architectural effects +in Rome or Venice—her pictures having attained +some fame for their vivid handling of +sunlight on the brilliant Italian exteriors. In +the summer, she and her mother dwelt in a +small castle, the Castello Rondo, to be precise, +on a wooded hill overlooking Lake Como. +These details Hooper had gathered from people +who had friends among the American colony +at Florence. Maggie was very pretty, very +reserved, devoted to her art and to old silver. +That was all he knew about her.</p> + +<p>I was in Heidelberg when the curtain rose +again on the Grier drama. “Adventures come +to the adventurous,” says the old saw, and the +homeless literary free-lance of to-day has his +surfeit of excitement, full measure, just as spicy +a draught as ever tickled the palate of any<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> +wanderer through the Dark Ages. I have +already commented on the peculiar way in +which the tragedy of life obtains its stage effects, +for all the world like any writer of those thrilling +“spectacular” plays which in England +used to be labelled “transpontine.” Here is a +typical first act. Scene, a peaceful village; +the good young man and the rustic beauty are +discovered living in Sunday-school innocence +with their bucolic parents. Enter two well-dressed +villains, of both sexes, and, after quarter +of an hour’s excitement, the stalwart hero is +lugged off, R., to penal servitude for a crime +he never committed, and the heroine falls +fainting, L., while the cloth descends to slow +music, <i>tremolo con molto espressione</i>. Something +of the kind happened to me. We, that is +Mr., Mrs., Master and friends, had been enjoying +a boating excursion on the Neckar, with a +grand drive through the Schonau woods, a +fine meal in an ancient inn, and a moonlight-cum-mandolin +journey homewards.</p> + +<p>And there, at our comfortable lodgings, I +found a telegram awaiting me:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Karl is causing us some trouble. Can you +come and help?—<span class="smcap">Grier.</span>”</p> +</div> + +<p>My wife had heard from Mrs. Grier only a +month ago. There was no mention of any<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> +shortcoming on Karl’s part in that missive. +Indeed, it was chiefly intended to warn us of an +impending visit by a tremendous person, the +Baroness von Liebenzell-Zavelstein, one of Karl’s +maternal great-aunts, the stoutest and most +aristocratic lady in the Grand Duchy.</p> + +<p>Yet Grier was not a man to telegraph for +me without good cause. Never did I regret +more keenly the inspissated brains which refused +to exhibit the least sign of a sixth sense. +How useful it would have been now if I could +“send out” Hertzian waves and “call up” +Karl on our private installation of wireless +telephony! But my dense membranes forbade +any such short cut towards knowledge, even if +the remainder of the machinery were not rusty +with disuse, so, while I was packing, I could +only indulge in theorizing.</p> + +<p>“The sure thing is that Maggie has vacated +the Castello Rondo,” said I to my better half. +“A beautiful and rich young Englishwoman +could never immure herself for life in the Italian +hinterland.”</p> + +<p>“It is the height of the season in town. Karl +and she have met in society,” was the practical +response.</p> + +<p>“Um! A coincidence.”</p> + +<p>“What is the coincidence?”</p> + +<p>“It is just five years ago to-day since I went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> +to London with Karl. It was then the ‘height +of the season’ as you call it.”</p> + +<p>“That is what everybody else calls it.”</p> + +<p>“My dear, the phrase is hackneyed. The +wife of a writer should seek a polished synonym. +Let me help you to a selection: the fashionable +zenith, the apotheosis of Park Lane, even the +saturnalia of society—”</p> + +<p>“Are you going without your boots?”</p> + +<p>Well, I reached Charing Cross next evening, +and there, on the platform, stood Grier <i>père</i> to +meet me. He was alone.</p> + +<p>“I have taken rooms at an hotel,” he said +after our first hearty greeting. “I don’t want +you at the house, because I fancy you will do +more good by getting Karl to yourself of an +evening, so I must ask you to be my guest at +the Pall Mall Hotel.”</p> + +<p>“That is odd,” I said.</p> + +<p>“You will understand better when we have +had a talk.”</p> + +<p>I did not explain that my ejaculation referred +to the choice of the hotel and not to his action +in sending me there. We entered his carriage +and quitted the station.</p> + +<p>“I hope there is nothing seriously wrong with +Karl?” I began.</p> + +<p>“No, no. Not at all. But you are the only +man who really knows, or pretends to know,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> +anything about this inf—— this wretched sixth +sense of his, and it has come on again, worse +than ever, since his engagement.”</p> + +<p>“Hertzblut! Is he going to marry Maggie +after all?”</p> + +<p>“Maggie! Maggie! Why do you mention +her? He is engaged to the Honorable Nora +Cazenove, daughter of Lord Sandilands.”</p> + +<p>I leaned back in the carriage. I could almost +have chuckled.</p> + +<p>“Ah,” I murmured softly to myself. “The +other woman has arrived! Now there will be +ructions!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br> + +<small>WOMEN CALLED HIM “THE MAGNET”</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nevertheless</span>, there must be some more +convincing explanation of the telegram which +brought me from Heidelberg than Karl’s matrimonial +intentions.</p> + +<p>“Doesn’t the engagement meet with your +approval?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Most decidedly. It is a suitable match in +every way. Karl has been nursing a constituency +for a year or more. He is sure to win the +seat at the next election. Lord Sandilands has +such interest that his son-in-law will be quite a +personage in the parliamentary world if he has +any brains at all, and no one can deny Karl’s +gifts in that direction.”</p> + +<p>“It would be difficult indeed. I think I have +heard that Lord Sandilands himself is—er—”</p> + +<p>“A noodle, to put it mildly. But his daughter +is a fine woman, an amazingly fine woman when +one sees her father. They tell me his wife was +an actress, and a great beauty; so perhaps the +only wise thing his lordship ever did was to +marry her. Nora is an only child. Both title<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> +and estates will pass to her son if she has one. +So you see—”</p> + +<p>“I can see everything except the <i>raison d’être</i> +of my presence in London to-night.”</p> + +<p>“For an expert in telegnomy—if that is what +you call the thing—you are surprisingly slow +to grasp my meaning. Never since we said +good-by to you in Lime Street Station has this +spook business troubled Karl in the least. He +has done some remarkable things, it is true. +I have seen him make people jump nearly out +of their skins, but only by way of a joke. The +women call him ‘The Magnet,’ you know. Oh, +you hadn’t heard that? There is nothing in it +but sheer fun. He wouldn’t look at a girl until +I spoke to him seriously a couple of months ago, +and then he told me that he was quite ready to +marry the first girl I chose for him. So Sandilands +and I fixed matters.”</p> + +<p>“Did you?”</p> + +<p>There must have been a note of irony in my +voice. Grier bounced round in the carriage, +and I may mention, as a matter of personal +observation, that the accumulation of riches +tends to shorten a man’s temper.</p> + +<p>“Yes, we did,” he snapped, “and, what is +more, we fixed matters uncommonly well. Karl +cared as much for Nora as for any other nice +young woman of his acquaintance, while she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> +was infatuated about him. Just the right combination, +to my thinking, in a marriage which +is intended to start a man on a great career.”</p> + +<p>“Ach Himmel!” I murmured. “Where is +the planter of my youth? Does Mrs. Grier +subscribe to that sentiment?”</p> + +<p>Even as I spoke, I felt sorry for the bantering +tone I was adopting. It may be that I was tired +after my journey, or that my old friend’s sudden +announcement of his son’s engagement had +driven all other considerations from my mind, +but assuredly I would not have wrung a father’s +heart if I had guessed how he was suffering.</p> + +<p>He caught my arm, and the glare of light from +the hotel entrance, at which the carriage was +then pulling up, showed me a face haggard and +convulsed with pain.</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” he almost sobbed. “I can’t stand +it. My God, have you forgotten how Constantine +died?”</p> + +<p>“My dear fellow—” I began, but a Swiss +hall-porter in the undress uniform of a British +field-marshal was at the open door.</p> + +<p>Though wretchedly ashamed of myself, what +could I say? I was tongue-tied with surprise. +Had things reached such a pitch that Grier was +trembling for his son’s sanity? Nothing short +of some terrible crisis could have wrung that cry +of despair from a man of the money-making<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> +temperament. To be sure, we are apt to err +greatly when we describe a millionaire as “callous,” +“steel-nerved,” and other foolish epithets +of that ilk. Constantine was a millionaire, and +he was as sensitive as a plate full of iron filings +exposed to the influence of static electricity. +And then, look at A. and B., men whom you +hear of daily; their hyper-nervousness is a matter +of common knowledge.</p> + +<p>Of course I put things right with Grier when +we were alone once more. By that time, the +momentary rift in the cloud which revealed the +grim abyss had vanished. His face was impenetrable +as a dense fog; the cold intellect had +subdued the throbbing heart.</p> + +<p>Calmly and carefully, with the precision he +would exercise if recounting the assets of one of +his companies, he went through the full history +of recent events. It is not necessary to repeat +his statements here. Karl, when I met him, +was more explicit, because he explained causes +as well as effects. Grier asked my help as a +friend and trustworthy counsellor. My mission +was to win his son back to a more rational view +of life. As in many another desperate plight, +of nations as well as individuals, the <i>status quo +ante</i> was the one desirable solution of the +difficulty.</p> + +<p>I promised to co-operate to the best of my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> +ability, and I was pleased then to think, as I am +now to know, that my distressed friend quitted +me in a more hopeful mood than he had experienced +during the previous month. It was no +child’s task he imposed. A week earlier Karl +had promised his father, on his word of honor, +that he would commit no rash or desperate act +until four weeks had passed. Seven days had +gone already, and the extraordinary circumstances +which lay behind that sinister promise +were more potent than ever. “Young fool!” +the cynic may mutter, but even a cynic can be +asked to suspend judgment until he has heard +the facts.</p> + +<p>Well, Grier had gone. I was going out for +a light supper at a quiet restaurant—the full-dress +magnificence of the hotel dining-rooms +was distasteful to an Ishmael in tweed—when +a waiter came with a card: “Mr. Karl +Grier!”</p> + +<p>Honestly, it did not occur to me at once +how Karl became aware of my presence, in +view of his father’s assurance that the telegram +to Heidelberg was an absolute secret. Every +man has his limitations, and the use of a sixth +sense in the ordinary affairs of life was ever +new to me. Nevertheless, here was Karl himself, +and his appearance gave me a shock productive +of that imaginary shakiness which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> +elderly ladies of considerable weight describe +when they say:</p> + +<p>“You might have knocked me down with a +feather!”</p> + +<p>Light literature, helped by the stage, must +have created a lean, hollow-eyed, somewhat +consumptive type of person when the ravages +of passion, aided and abetted by darkly mysterious +natural attributes, come to be portrayed. +Of course, I last saw Karl in the heyday of +youth and physical perfection, when face and +figure might have served Phidias as model for +the sculpture of Helios, the sungod. I am not +exaggerating. Even the famous Greek, contemplating +some chryselephantine marvel, found +no higher ideal than the human form at its +best, and nature, having determined to break +the fetters of that long-imprisoned extra sense, +took good care to select a notable subject for +its display.</p> + +<p>Therefore, while such a fine combination of +athlete and thinker could scarce have fallen to +the poor standard of the popular novelist’s +cataleptic hero, the elder Grier’s revelations +had prepared me, by inference, for a wasted +and shrunken Karl, a six-foot volcano whose +inner fire had wofully consumed the outer +substance. Indeed, I may ask what <i>you</i> would +have thought if told piteously to remember the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> +manner of Constantine’s death, and bidden to +strive and avert a tragedy with a definite date +assigned to it. How would such facts look on +a life insurance proposal, for instance?</p> + +<p>Hence, the pleasant voice and outstretched +hand of a Karl who had the physique of one of +Ouida’s Horse-Guard captains came as an +agreeable but nevertheless bewildering surprise. +Here was a man whose splendid proportions +would attract attention anywhere. He was +faultlessly dressed, so far as modern fashion +may garb the mere male. He carried himself +with the ease of good society. His eager face +had the bronze of the open air and the clear +texture of healthy living. Altogether, there +could be no more astounding contrast submitted +to a stubborn intelligence than this fine-looking +young man, with his distinguished air, +his happy insouciance, and his gray-haired +father pleading for a son’s life.</p> + +<p>“You didn’t expect to see me, eh?” cried +he, throwing aside his overcoat and subsiding +into a chair. “Poor old dad! I’m a dreadful +worry to him just now, and I knew he had +some scheme in his mind last night when he +kept glancing at me under those deep eyebrows +of his. So to-night, when he was late for +dinner, I sent a telegnomic ray after him. I +was just as glad to see you step out of the train<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> +as he was. And you are far more sympathetic. +I simply can’t get him to realize that I am unable +to control my unhappy faculties at times. +He thinks you can cut off the sixth sense as +one switches out the light. By Jove! I wish +I knew the electrician who could disconnect +me!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you, but I am delighted +to find you looking so well,” said I. “From +your father’s brief report—”</p> + +<p>“You expected to meet a most wobegone +individual. Well, I’m not. I was never better +in my life. But the pace cannot last. Unless +something happens, some planet-sent intervention +which I fail to foresee, I am condemned +like any felon. Was I right in warning the old +man of a pending catastrophe? I think so. +The news of my sudden death might be fatal to +him. Now, at any rate, he is prepared for it.”</p> + +<p>He caught my critical, not to say suspicious, +glance and laughed. Never did a “condemned +felon” regard his doom so cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“That is quite right,” he said. “See if you +can detect any signs of insanity. Sir Harley +Dresser did the same thing when, to please my +father, I went to him. He abandoned the +idea, however, and gave me some fever mixture, +as he fancied I might have caught a chill +after some hard chukkars at polo.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>“You have no need to convince <i>me</i> that you +are a phenomenon,” I protested.</p> + +<p>“No. I should think not, indeed, after poor +Constantine’s affair. Nevertheless, you absolutely +refuse to believe—and I am speaking +only of rational, scientific belief—that this +most unpleasant telegnomy may kill me as it +killed him.”</p> + +<p>“Did it kill him?”</p> + +<p>“There is nothing more certain. I tell you +that because you know I was in no way responsible. +I simply burnt him up, fused him, as +the motor-men say, and it was his own fault, +because he persisted in getting in my way. +You know that resistance is the principle of +the incandescent electric lamp. Of malice aforethought, +the electrician sticks a thin carbon +filament in the middle of a thick wire which +will carry a certain current. The filament +cannot carry the load, so it becomes red-hot +and shrivels, the process being retarded by the +creation of a vacuum. Constantine was the +filament; that is all.”</p> + +<p>“Have you—er—are there other human +filaments—”</p> + +<p>“I hope not. I have not encountered any, +I am glad to say; but there is a reason for +everything if only we can discover it, and my +current is not murderous unless it has a certain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> +direction and intensity. Both of those +conditions have been absent for five years, so +there are no other crimes, even involuntary +ones, to my charge.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you are overrating your power, even +in the case of Constantine,” I said.</p> + +<p>“It may be so. I am only guessing vaguely +at a theory, and using the analogy of known +things. But Macpherson was right when he +described me as an induction coil. I give off +magnetism at a terrific voltage. Apply this +interesting mechanism to the ordinary means +of seeing and hearing, which you may liken to a +bar of soft iron, and you have the first feasible +definition of telegnomy.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be only too glad to hear an intelligent +scientific explanation of your sixth sense +when the fog which has settled steadily over +my wits since I reached London has cleared +away,” I broke in. “What I am really concerned +with now is the alarm which your father +is experiencing on your account, and quite +needlessly, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>He leaned confidentially nearer, his arms +resting on his knees; and his finely chiseled +face thrust forward with keen intentness.</p> + +<p>“You had better follow the track I am providing,” +he said. “I have the consoling belief +that you will ultimately comprehend me,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> +and that will be something gained. Since we +tried experiments in polarization in the <i>Mitre</i> +at Oxford I have advanced somewhat in knowledge. +Of course it is difficult to describe +thought in language adapted to mechanical +apparatus, though, when comparisons are set +up, the similarity of the body to a steam engine +driving a dynamo, to which certain electrical +devices are attached, is simply amazing. Have +you ever studied electricity?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, I must explain two things to +you. In the first place, you can imagine a +current passing along a wire from one side of +a room to the other. When a circuit is made +a bell rings. Now, the wire which carries that +current may be insulated thoroughly, yet it +diffuses around it a certain quantity of static +electricity, or magnetism, which constitutes an +aura.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, an old friend, met in many a clairvoyant +novel and mesmeric séance!”</p> + +<p>“Yet the aura has dynamic existence apart +from fiction. Place a smaller wire, equipped +with an electro-magnet yielding to one tenth of +the force carried by wire No. 1, in the same +field, but wholly separate, and you will find that +by completing the first circuit the resultant +magnetism affects the second wire, and <i>its</i> bell<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> +rings also, only with considerable diminished +strength. Well, sweep away your visible appliances, +regard me as wire No. 1, and mankind +in general as wire No. 2, and you have a fairly +accurate notion of the manner in which I can +ascertain, and even control, other people’s words +and movements at any given moment.”</p> + +<p>“How about me?” I demanded. “I was +exceedingly anxious to communicate with you +the other evening, but nothing happened, to <i>my</i> +knowledge.”</p> + +<p>“Had I known your wish, and you had given +voice to it, it would have been different. But +that brings me to my second illustration. The +force, whatever it is, which travels forth comes +back again with absolutely unimpaired vigor, +though possibly in some other form. You can +prove that little recognized fact by experiment +with any sparking machine. Now, there is only +one human being alive, so far as I know, who +can actually supply the full magnetic complement +of my electric field. In different words, +there is but one other creature on earth tuned +to my pitch. Owing to certain impending circumstances +I fear a collapse for her, or through +her, which will, beyond question, be accompanied +by a more complete catastrophe for me.”</p> + +<p>Karl was speaking so seriously, his words were +so evidently the outcome of deep reflection, that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> +I found myself as profoundly imbued with the +vital importance of the matter as he was himself.</p> + +<p>“Are you alluding to the Honorable Nora +Cazenove or to Miss Margaret Hutchinson?” I +asked.</p> + +<p>The bewildering pendulum-swing from talk +of sudden and unprovided death back to light-hearted +and careless gaiety was not the least +puzzling feature of Karl’s present attitude; he +straightened himself in his chair and laughed +gleefully.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if you can discover the answer +unaided!” he cried. “I’ll tell you what. There’s +a reception at Sandilands’ house to-night. Just +slip on your regulation clothes, and I’ll take you +there. After you have seen Nora, you shall give +me your opinion!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br> + +<small>I MEET NORA CAZENOVE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Having</span> carried what may be termed your +technical exposition so far, why do you stop +short at the really important issue?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, come now!” he cried with ready raillery, +“when a patient describes his symptoms to a +doctor he does not pass to the next stage and +name his disease.”</p> + +<p>Amidst present perplexities and the confusion +of quickly gathering memories of earlier years, +there was one distinctive characteristic of Karl’s +Mahatmalike faculty which stood out prominently. +The exercise of his sixth sense never +affected his gay personality. If he showed anger +or concern it was wholly vicarious, a sympathetic +sentiment inspired by certain facts which influenced +the lives of others. Once, indeed, to +my knowing, if not more frequently, he had +obtained a reflex or sub-conscious knowledge +of Maggie Hutchinson’s emotions. But even in +this instance my theory apparently held good. +Alas for romance and the first shaft of love! +Five years ago he was not only ready, after a +pang or two, to fall in with her decree of banishment,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> +but to-day I was to meet his fiancée in a +young woman of the market type! This contradictory, +self-effacing attitude was, of course, +brought out more pronouncedly than ever by +the haphazard views he expressed on the chance, +or, it might be, the certainty, of his own early +death. To see Karl, the personification of +manly strength and good health, sitting in my +room, and hear him coolly endorsing his father’s +heart-broken statement as to his approaching +dissolution, was the most absurdly exasperating +experience ever vouchsafed to me.</p> + +<p>I know quite well that men and women of +high degree—and by that I mean the true +aristocracy of man, not the base metal so often +stamped with misleading titles—will face unavoidable +death with a sedateness, even a sober +humor, which is the topmost rung of the long +ladder climbed by human progress. A shipwreck, +a battle, a lost cause—these are tangible +things and excuse all. “This is the most glorious +day of my life,” said the crippled Girondist, +Sillery, when sentenced to death. “What, Valazé,” +said Brissot to another, who fell in seeming +faintness, “are you losing your courage?” “No, +I am dying,” was the reply; Valazé had plunged +a dagger into his heart. A British officer, about +to be crucified by Chinese, was offered an +easier death if he would admit that China was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> +greater than England. His enemies knew some +French but no English. His French was that +of the provincial grammar school of other days, +but he cried boldly: “La Hongleterre est la +première nation de la monde!” They understood +him, not being Frenchmen, and an enraged +mandarin gave the signal for his instant +execution. Well, you take off your hat to the +memory of the brave, and you hope that, in +similar straits, you would carry yourself with +equal dignity.</p> + +<p>But I do not think the man breathes who +could gage Karl’s dispassionate mood in that +hour. I admit that I was utterly befogged. I +went into my bedroom to change my clothing. +The door was open, and I heard Karl rise, approach +the window, obviously with no more +serious intent than a glance into the street, and +begin to whistle. That might be the stoicism of +despair. But the whistling changed to humming, +and from humming he verted to singing:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">For she was the Belle of New York,</div> +<div class="verse">The subject of all the town talk.</div> +<div class="verse">She made the whole Bowery</div> +<div class="verse">Fragrant and flowery</div> +<div class="verse">When she went out for a walk....</div> +</div></div> + +<p>This was too much. I stuck my enraged head +round the corner of the door. He stopped his +lilting.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>“By Jove!” he said, “you must be a lightning +change artist.”</p> + +<p>“Karl!” I cried indignantly, “for goodness’ +sake jump into a hansom, go to your father, and +tell him to dismiss from his mind the stupid +nightmare with which you have managed to +imbue him.”</p> + +<p>“You have evidently missed the exact point +of some of my remarks,” he retorted pleasantly. +“I told you, among other things, that I wrestled +with the problem of candor versus concealment +some time ago.”</p> + +<p>“But you cannot be in earnest. Either you +are mad or I am.”</p> + +<p>“Both, my dear fellow. Believe me, temporary +insanity is largely on the increase. The +average man cannot withstand the strain. I +fancy you will find there is a quaint analogy +between the number of maniacs per mille and +the number of editions published each day by +the evening newspapers. When the jaded intellect +is called on, every few minutes, to watch +three race meetings, six county cricket matches, +and probably a test match, the war—there is +always a war—the German Emperor, the yacht +race, the latest scandal, the latest play—”</p> + +<p>Pshaw! I let up, as Hooper would have said, +and determined to drift with the tide into the +realm of queer happenings. The change in my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> +costume rendered the hotel’s restaurant approachable. +Eat to-day I must, no matter who +died to-morrow. Karl agreed to keep me company +while I tackled the homeliest <i>plat</i> which a +£3,000 per annum chef would condescend to +cook, and thus, unwittingly, was I advanced a +stage in my inquiry.</p> + +<p>We found the palatial apartment tenanted by +late diners and early suppers. A waiter would +have whisked us into an inconvenient corner, +but Karl stayed him.</p> + +<p>“Where is Jules?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Le voilà, m’sieur,” and the man indicated +the bulky form of the head waiter in the far +depths of white and gold.</p> + +<p>Karl looked steadily across the little tables +with their twos that were company and their +threes that were not. Had he fired at Jules +with an air-gun that ponderous person could +not have wheeled round more readily. Moreover, +he came straight to us, his broad face set +in a wide grin.</p> + +<p>“Ah, dere you are, M’sieur Karl!” he +cried. “I alvays know ven you come in, is +it not?”</p> + +<p>“Always,” replied Karl, imperturbably. After +compliments, I gave my order. The manner of +Jules’ summoning was hidden from both the +head waiter himself and his satellite.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>“Is that what the women mean when they call +you ‘The Magnet’?” I inquired.</p> + +<p>He laughed, with that contagious merriment +which sends ripples of content across his hearers’ +faces whether they are in his company or not. +But he took care that his answer reached no +other ears than mine.</p> + +<p>“No,” he said, “the women mean something +quite different. At any ordinary distance I can +attract practically any one whom I know. They +come and talk to me, without being aware that +I have summoned them. It is not a very remarkable +feat when you realize that we all do +something like that, in any church, or theater, +or other place where people are gathered together. +The magnetic effect is doubled, at +least, when you use opera-glasses. Why?”</p> + +<p>These red herrings drawn across the trail were +useless.</p> + +<p>“What <i>do</i> the women mean?” I persisted.</p> + +<p>“Ask ’em, my dear fellow. Perhaps they may +explain. The dear creatures adore sensation. +I am told that some of them will stick on a +switchback railway until their purses are emptied. +A woman’s nervous system is more refined +than a man’s. That is why she likes swinging, +or, to be accurate, being swung. It thrills her.”</p> + +<p>Karl, in this bantering mood, was a revelation. +Were I not really very much distressed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> +and concerned by the statements made by him +and his father I should have been somewhat +annoyed with him. As it was, I determined to +meet him on his own ground.</p> + +<p>“You have evidently become quite a man +about town since last I saw you,” I said.</p> + +<p>“How have I earned that questionable distinction +in your eyes?”</p> + +<p>“On the <i>post hoc propter hoc</i> principle. Your +nickname, your philosophy, your light generalities +about the opposite sex, are labels of the +brand.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! It has not struck you that both you +and the women may be mistaken?”</p> + +<p>I looked up quickly. The mocking laugh had +gone. The grave, earnest face of the Karl of +five years ago was before me. Nevertheless, his +fencing had stirred within me the spirit of +resistance.</p> + +<p>“I am prepared to vouch for the fact that one +woman knew you well enough not to be mistaken,” +I said.</p> + +<p>“May not her knowledge explain her attitude? +Of course you are speaking of Maggie +Hutchinson. Do not forget that she shut the +door in my face.”</p> + +<p>“If it be not treason to the Honorable Nora +Cazenove, may I say that the door might yield +to a resolute attack?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>For answer he leaned on the table, intertwined +his fingers, and gazed at me straight in the eyes.</p> + +<p>“Never was fortress besieged more patiently,” +he said. “It is only within the past few weeks, +that I have received any answer, and that is +why—But surely you will agree with me +that the full and explicit story of my life had +better be deferred until a more convenient +occasion.”</p> + +<p>Now, lest I be accused of romancing, I shall +not endeavor to analyze very closely the most +curious and agreeable illusion which held me +during the few seconds needed for the delivery +of his protest. Instead of the crowded restaurant +I saw a moonlit lake, with the terraces of +an Italian garden rising in black and white +lines of closely clipped hedges, gravel paths, +smooth lawns, and broad stairs with curving +balustrades. On the topmost and widest lawn, +where the grass had the resemblance of a black +carpet owing to the shadows cast by a castellated +building in the background, three people +were walking—actually in motion, that is—not +in the fixed attitudes of a picture, but moving. +Two were women, one dressed in black +and the other in white, and the moonlight glinting +on their robes had an effect worthy of +Gustave Doré, so startling was the contrast, so +instantly did they hold the eye. With them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> +was a man, a tall man; but that was all I caught +of the scene, for my ears were listening to Karl +throughout, and the change in his voice brought +back my scattered senses.</p> + +<p>And a waiter spoke.</p> + +<p>“Your fish, sir. Sole Colbert, sir.”</p> + +<p>I think I must have gazed at him blankly, +but Karl came to my assistance.</p> + +<p>“Tell the chef we are in a hurry,” he said. +“Then there will be no delay in the kitchen.”</p> + +<p>The man quitted us. I stuck a needless +fork into the amiable sole.</p> + +<p>“Have you been hypnotizing me?” I demanded +angrily.</p> + +<p>“You may call it that if you like,” he said +calmly. “You saw Maggie and her mother.”</p> + +<p>“Did I!” I snapped. “And who was the +man?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know his name. I decline to +listen. But I am fairly certain he is an Italian, +of good birth, and he is madly in love with +Maggie.”</p> + +<p>I thawed. There was a reason for the trick +he had played me.</p> + +<p>“And she?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“Like me, she thinks that marriage is a duty.”</p> + +<p>“There appears to be material for a neurotic +novel in the present situation.”</p> + +<p>“Far more. It may supply two tragedies.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> +But why are you harpooning that unresisting +fish?”</p> + +<p>Again I resolved to drift. It was clear that +Karl meant me to travel along the road he had +already mapped out. So I ate my dinner, and +drank a couple of glasses of wine, and kept +asking myself how it was possible for my +young friend to produce so easily a slight but +distinct hypnosis in a veteran like me.</p> + +<p>Then I remembered the poker-polarizing of +the Mitre Hotel, and I dug my elbow into his +ribs as a hansom carried us westwards.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” I cried, “I have it! Constantine’s +death interfered, in some way, with the +private telegnomy line Maggie and you had set +up; but recent events have repaired the breakage. +Constantine, living, supplied the earth +contact for your ethereal wires. When he +died you were forcibly separated, practically +torn asunder, and his place had to be filled +again before you could resume communication +on the same basis as before.”</p> + +<p>“You are not far wrong,” he said dryly. +“But you have lived so much abroad that you +forget the propriety due to the British hansom. +If you wave your arms so excitedly, the policeman +at the top of St. James’ Street will stop +us, and I shall be compelled to magnetize him.”</p> + +<p>“Could you?” I inquired irrelevantly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>“Ask the guv’nor what I did to the <i>douanier</i> +at the Gare du Nord who wished to confiscate +a pound of the only tobacco the old man can +smoke. I made him chalk a whole ship-load +of luggage like an automaton. I have progressed +somewhat since I left Oxford. Were +it not for other less agreeable features, I could +get a fair amount of amusement out of my +powers of suggestion. It is not altogether +puzzling when you come to reason it out. +Granted that I am a sort of human magnet, I +must obviously be able to control my fellow-men, +especially those who are most susceptible +to external influences.”</p> + +<p>“When I extricate Maggie and you from +your present dilemma I shall demand your aid +for the utter squelching and making everlastingly +ridiculous of some of my dearest +enemies,” I said cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“Better use me soon,” said he lightly, yet +there was a chilling and somber significance +in his words that recalled me to the reality of +the peril of which he spoke so jestingly.</p> + +<p>When we reached Lord Sandilands’ town +house our cab took rank behind a score of +broughams and other conveyances setting down +guests at the striped canvas alley which shut +off the sacred portal of fashion from the vulgar +gaze. <i>Odi profanum vulgus et arceo</i>: “I hate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> +the common rabble and keep it at a distance,” +wrote Horace, who must have lived in the +Berkeley Square of Old Rome. What stern +barriers are those strips of canvas and lengths +of red carpet.</p> + +<p>We passed several gorgeous footmen (it is +an old phrase, but the truth is ever thus) and +two detectives, deposited our hats and coats +somewhere, made our way up a flight of broad +stairs, and my inquisitive eyes fell on a very +handsome young woman, exquisitely dressed, +but a trifle on the heavy side of the scale to +my thinking, whose position, no less than the +equal delight with which she welcomed all +comers, proclaimed that this was the hostess, +Nora Cazenove.</p> + +<p>The conventional smile flew from her face +as painted scenes grow mawkish in sunlight +when she saw Karl. She blushed very prettily, +and her very soul leaped to her eyes.</p> + +<p>“I have been looking for you this hour or +more,” she cried, and I half expected her to +throw her splendid arms around his neck.</p> + +<p>“I would have been here sooner were I not +detained by the unexpected arrival of an old +friend. Let me present him.”</p> + +<p>She extended her hand to me.</p> + +<p>“The older the friend of Karl’s the more +pleased I am to see him,” she said.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>“And now that I have met you I can only +wonder that any friendship could have resisted +the strain he must have felt during the last +hour.”</p> + +<p>There we stood, the three of us, two men +and a woman, murmuring nice artificialities, +bowing and smirking in the glare of a London +drawing-room, while in an Italian garden, at +that hour, three others, two women and a man, +were talking of Heaven knows what topic, +which, nevertheless, was indissolubly bound +up with our trivial discourse.</p> + +<p>For a fleeting instant I had a glimpse of +some strong, imperishable, intangible bond +which held together the hidden things of life. +Then I heard Nora Cazenove’s aristocratic +accents.</p> + +<p>“Soon I shall be relieved from my present +duty. Then you and I must have a nice long +talk.”</p> + +<p>So I passed on with the crowd.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br> + +<small>THE PROBLEM TAKES SHAPE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are certain mortals, I suppose, who +take delight in “At Homes,” receptions, musicales, +and the rest of the social devices which +enable fashionable folk to meet of evenings +and learn the latest scandal. Personally, I +would pass an hour far more agreeably in a +fever hospital, provided the resident doctor +were a good fellow, and not too busy to smoke +a pipe with me. Hence, because of the unusual +transactions of that memorable night, +the proceedings at Sandilands’ house stand +out in my mind in quite cameo-like precision +as contrasted with other similar gatherings I +have attended. Nor was this result achieved +by meeting notable personages. There was +the same setting of tow-headed fiddlers and +stout sopranos—judicious artistes who earn +a bank manager’s annual salary in twenty +minutes—the same well-bred insolence on +the part of some, the same toadying by others, +the same ruthless incivility in the supper rooms +by all, that may be seen at any like festival<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> +in the West End of London any night during +the season. But, as shall be revealed speedily, +the unrehearsed incidents of this particular +society comedy were such as cut notches in +the memory.</p> + +<p>I met a man with a grievance. He insisted +on telling me why the Government +had denied him the poet-laureateship. That +was a safe topic. Politeness demanded an +occasional “Dear me!” or “You don’t say so!” +from me: he did the rest.</p> + +<p>From the safe anchorage of his eloquence I +was able, at leisure, to watch and, to a certain +extent, sum up, Nora Cazenove. Her genealogy, +briefly sketched by the older Grier, partly +accounted for certain deficiencies in her. It +was reasonable to assume that her mother was +a beautiful woman, of extraordinary acuteness +within a somewhat narrow sphere. Like the +girl in the ballad, her face was her fortune, +and she deemed herself well paid, I doubt not, +when she bartered her good looks and faultless +form for a title and a big annual rent-roll.</p> + +<p>Lord Sandilands, whom I had never seen +until that night, instantly reminded me of that +scathing dictum of Swift’s: “A weak, diseased +body, a meager countenance, and sallow complexion +are the true marks of noble blood.” +Gulliver, you will find, if you look the passage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> +up, gave his horse friend an even more drastic +explanation of an occasional lapse by the +aristocracy into robustness of physique; but +Lord Sandilands, judged by the Dean’s standard, +was a genuine peer. Yet he was a harmless +little creature. I fancy he received a mild +shock every time his Juno-like daughter called +him “father.”</p> + +<p>At any rate, I amused myself by studying the +girl, and I came to the conclusion that had Karl +scoured the earth he could not have found a +more exact antithesis to Maggie Hutchinson +than her successful rival, the Honorable Nora +Cazenove.</p> + +<p>They had the common attributes of good +looks, good style, and what passes current for +good education among young ladies of twenty-three +or thereabouts. In all else they differed. +If I were seeking worthy tabernacles for merely +intellectual concepts of what we mean when +we speak of soul and body, I should choose +those two girls as supplying the requisite +shrines. Though my recollection of Maggie +was not quite definite, I could recall her +Madonna expression, the spirituality which diffused +its mild beams over a grateful world from +her brown eyes. Nora, on the other hand, was +what her lineage proclaimed, a purchased +standard of bodily excellence. Maggie could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> +forget all, even life itself, in the exaltation of +music, the passion of a song, the transient loveliness +of a sunset, whereas Nora must be a +fine equestrian, fond of good food and hearty +exercise, a woman in whom the wonderful +maternal instinct would be less divine than +human. I am not blind to the lack of precision +in that last distinction. Some day a man may +be free to write as he thinks, provided always +that he has honorable and useful intent, but +that day is not yet.</p> + +<p>I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I +made a rather bad break with the would-be +laureate.</p> + +<p>“What would you have said,” he fiercely +demanded, “if the Prime Minister told you +that your latest volume of poems was a collection +of turgid nonsense?”</p> + +<p>“I would have said that he was quite right,” +I answered blithely, for a man can always run +down his own work with safety.</p> + +<p>Then it dawned on me that the Prime Minister +had expressed himself thus strongly, not +on my book, but on the poet’s.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” I added, “it was quite evident +that he had not read a line of your verse.”</p> + +<p>“Confound it, haven’t I just related to you +how I found him in the summer-house, and +compelled him to listen? yes, blocked up the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> +only exit, until I recited to him the whole of +my ode to ‘Eternity.’”</p> + +<p>“The subject was too vast for his intelligence.”</p> + +<p>“Not it. It is a shameful fact that no man of +poetic tastes can gain a politician’s ear nowadays +unless he titillates it with a patriotic jingle. As +a forlorn hope I have written a threnody on the +fleet. If I can find a good rhyme for ‘guns’ I +am made. Can you help? ‘Buns,’ ‘duns,’ +‘nuns’ and ‘tuns,’ are hardly suitable. ‘Suns,’ +‘runs,’ and ‘shuns,’ I have used. Just come +into this corner while I—”</p> + +<p>Miss Cazenove rescued me.</p> + +<p>“At last I have a moment,” she cried, showing +her perfect teeth in a thoroughly good-natured +smile. “You don’t mind my carrying him off, +do you?” she went on sweetly, as she noted the +look of disappointment on my companion’s face. +“I have such a lot to say to him.”</p> + +<p>We hurried away. She laughed merrily when +I told her of my escape.</p> + +<p>“He is a real terror,” she agreed. “One day +he tackled dad after luncheon. Do you know +my father? He says ‘Gad’ to everything he +doesn’t understand, and most other things as +well. But on that occasion he lost his temper +and said ‘Rats!’”</p> + +<p>That put us on good terms. I looked forward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> +to an agreeable if not very soulful chat with my +radiant hostess, but I was fated to learn, for the +hundredth time, that every woman is a born +actress. Even the angelic Maggie was a stage +adept when it became necessary to cloak her +emotions from the public ken.</p> + +<p>“Are you hungry?” asked Miss Cazenove, +guiding me skilfully through the crowded suite +of rooms.</p> + +<p>“No,” I said, flattering myself that the question +was only prompted by hospitality.</p> + +<p>“Then come this way.”</p> + +<p>Before I well knew what was happening, I +was whisked through a curtained door into a +passage left purposely unlighted. Clinging to +my arm, but really compelling me onward, the +girl led me to another door. She entered, and +switched on the electric light. Evidently this +was her boudoir, but she left me little time to +take stock of my surroundings.</p> + +<p>“Sit down here,” she said. “I don’t care +what people think. I <i>must</i> talk with you about +Karl. Of course I might have waited until +to-morrow and asked you to call, but now that +you are here I am consumed with impatience. +No, sit just where you are, please. I want to +see your face.”</p> + +<p>“I am a most skilled prevaricator,” I said, for +her maneuvering was of the Napoleonic order.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> +I was to be attacked by horse, foot, and artillery, +cross-examined and scrutinized at the same time. +We sat on a roomy Chesterfield, an article of +furniture which suggests insidious confidences; +a cluster of lamps equipped with reading reflectors +shot their rays directly at us. Moreover, +she did not seem to heed the fact that she laid +herself open to equally searching criticism on +my part. The first shot fired in the encounter +showed that my adversary scorned subterfuge.</p> + +<p>“Who is she?”</p> + +<p>“Really—” I protested.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you know very well whom I mean. +Karl is engaged to me now, and is going to +marry me—I shall see to that. But I must +know who the girl is with whom he has been in +love since five years ago.”</p> + +<p>I temporized.</p> + +<p>“Five years ago! You can hardly expect me +to recollect anything of serious importance concerning +the love affairs of a young gentleman at +college and a young lady who may have worn +her hair in two plaits, tied at the ends with a +big bow—”</p> + +<p>“Please, please!” she insisted. “As if I did +not know how some girl has entered his very +life, until he regards all other women with unheeding +eyes, and even conducts himself towards +me in what he considers to be the correct attitude<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> +of an engaged man. What is the spell she has +cast upon him? Is she more beautiful than I, +more sympathetic, more capable of devotion? +Why is his father so troubled about him? Why +have you been brought from Heidelberg to help +in dispelling the cloud which has settled on +him?”</p> + +<p>“Did Mr. Grier, senior, tell you that?”</p> + +<p>“No. No one tells me anything. Won’t <i>you</i> +have pity on me? I have the wildest dreams, +but I know some of them are true. And I +dreamed of you. I even saw you. I would +have known you anywhere. When you came +up the stairs with Karl to-night I could have +shrieked aloud, but I dug my nails into my hands +and restrained myself. See, here are the gloves +I wore. I have changed them for others, but +I kept them to prove to you how truly I am +speaking.”</p> + +<p>She took from a pocket a crumpled pair of +white gloves, <i>peau de chevreau</i>. The finger +seams were burst, the palms cut in four half +moons. So, though the words nearly choked +me, I was forced to say soothingly:</p> + +<p>“I imagine you are troubling your pretty head +about a matter of little moment, Miss Cazenove. +I am quite certain you have no serious rival. +Karl is the soul of honor—”</p> + +<p>She started to her feet and grasped my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> +shoulder with a vehemence she was hardly +conscious of.</p> + +<p>“You men everlastingly prate of honor. +Honor explains everything. Provided Karl is +scrupulously attentive to me he can take another +woman to his heart, kiss her lips, her eyes, her +hair, breathe her breath, inhale her fragrance, +mingle his very soul with hers—that may be +honorable to me, but it is the madness of love +for her.”</p> + +<p>“Surely, Miss Cazenove, you are saying that +which is not,” I cried, and I, too, facing her +angrily, jumped up from the cushioned depths +of the Chesterfield.</p> + +<p>“Am I? Then you do not understand Karl, +and still less do you understand Maggie Hutchinson. +Ah! <i>touché</i>? Think me a jealous woman, +if you choose. I am, and I glory in it. But I +have a woman’s wits as well, and you know in +your heart I am not mistaken.”</p> + +<p>Something must be done to allay the tempest. +I had to fling the sixth sense to the winds, and +trust to the five of our common heritage to calm +this excited beauty.</p> + +<p>“I speak in all honesty and truth,” I said, +“when I tell you that, to the best of my belief, +Karl Grier has neither seen, nor spoken to, nor +written to Maggie Hutchinson since he was an +undergraduate at Oxford.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>She wrung her hands passionately.</p> + +<p>“Heaven keep me from tears!” she wailed. +“If I cry I shall yield utterly. Oh, dear, oh, +dear! I so looked forward to meeting you and +securing your help. Are you really so ignorant +of Karl’s powers that you lay stress on what we +call seeing and hearing? They mean nothing +to him. I am not blind if others are. Oh, if +only I did not love him so I might perhaps be +more to him!”</p> + +<p>I am free to admit that her words stirred me +strangely. Could it be that while I was puzzling +my brains with the formulæ of the least considered +branches of science, this girl, unaided, +almost untaught, had solved the mystery which +enfolded the broken love story of Karl and +Maggie? Did she share with the dead and gone +Armenian the most disastrous attribute of a +vector equation to the unmeasured force which +united the spiritual existences of her rival and +her lover? From the apparently secure foundation +of physics and magnetic attraction I was +projected into an astral shadow-land, whirled +away on an unbridled steed into a kingdom of +wild imaginings.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">On a sudden in the midst of men and day,</div> +<div class="verse">And while I walk’d and talk’d as heretofore,</div> +<div class="verse">I seemed to move among a world of ghosts</div> +<div class="verse">And feel myself the shadow of a dream.</div> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>Yet it was no mystic but a real woman who +faced me in that delightful room, with its Louis +Seize furniture, its charming little Corots and +water-colors by David Cox, its fragrant perfume +of Provençal flowers, and all that air of subtle +refinement which clings to the abode of a young +and beautiful girl as a well-made gown clings to +the contour of her body, never obtrusive, always +in exquisite taste, and ever revealing fresh +harmonies of line and tint.</p> + +<p>Her actress-mother dowered her with the +trick of speech, of impassioned gesture. She +flung an accusing hand towards me.</p> + +<p>“Why do you stand silent?” she demanded. +“Is it because of a wayward phantasy that I +should have revealed my torturing thoughts to +you, a mere stranger? Why are you here to-night? +To help Karl, you may say. Then +help me, also, or you may go through the rest +of your life haunted by most unpleasing +specters.”</p> + +<p>“I will gladly do all in my power to help Karl, +my dear young lady, and it will be an added joy +if the counsel and assistance I can lend to my +friend prove equally beneficial to you. But +surely you must see that I am moving in a maze. +You speak of that which I do not comprehend. +If, indeed, you and others are subject to unexplained +manifestations, it is all-important that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> +we should discuss them fully, rationally, and in +an environment more suitable than the present +time and place. Then, and only by such means, +can we reach anything in the nature of a logical +conclusion.”</p> + +<p>I felt that my speech was stilted, but I was +vainly searching for a more equable base of +action than her wild statements afforded. Her +lips curved into a bitter smile, but there was no +softening in the gleaming eyes.</p> + +<p>“Leave me to judge of conventions which +appeal so powerfully to you, a writer, a Bohemian, +a man who stood on a Liverpool quay +while Paul Constantine was drowning!” she +cried, and each word formed a crescendo of +scornful negation of my right to dictate to her.</p> + +<p>Nor did she pay heed to the positive start of +alarm with which I marked her utterance of the +Armenian’s name. Her mood changed in an +instant. She caught my arm again in pitiful +entreaty.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me if I say that which may sound +outrageous in your ears,” she said. “I am so +unstrung, so much in need of one who will +sympathize rather than chide, believe rather +than question.”</p> + +<p>“I take you at your word, Miss Cazenove. +Now, let me recant my momentary lapse into +smug propriety. I admit my belief. I am convinced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> +that Karl possesses some dreadful force +which is quite demoralizing when it meets resistance. +It is not his fault, nor Miss Hutchinson’s, +nor yours, nor was its influence wholly +condemnable in the man whose name you have +just mentioned. It is something outside and +beyond our ordered senses. Very well, we can +only deal with it by the use of those same senses. +The first requisite is candor, the second, critical +analysis. But, however distraught you may be, +you must admit that midnight, in your boudoir, +in a house overrun with your guests, gives us no +opportunity of sanely examining a disturbing +problem. Come now, be guided by me; I have +a son nearly your age, and you may trust me to +take a calm view of these things which excite you +so terribly.”</p> + +<p>“And you will not deem me mad when I tell +you that when Karl marries me it will kill me if +I still feel that his soul belongs to another +woman?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed I shall not hold any such vain +thought. Don’t you see that marriage, under +such conditions, is not to be thought of? But +there! Let us not commence our inquiry now. +I am even resisting the temptation to ask you +how you knew of Constantine’s death. No! +please begin by being patient. I shall perhaps +ask for a little obedience, standing, as I do, <i>in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> +loco parentis</i>. Let us arrange a meeting to-morrow. +What do you say to a stroll in the +Park after luncheon? Or, if the weather is wet, +shall I call here if you can count on being +alone?”</p> + +<p>Tacitly, we ignored both Lord Sandilands +and Mrs. Grundy. They were estimable persons, +doubtless, but they would need electrocution +ere they understood telegnomy.</p> + +<p>She was about to answer when a light knock +on the half-open door announced a visitor. +It was Karl. He smiled wistfully. He had +the semblance of one who knows that a catastrophe +has occurred, a catastrophe foreseen +yet unpreventable.</p> + +<p>“I expected to find you here, Nora,” he said. +“In fact, I followed you here in my mind, +and I agree that it will be better for you, and +possibly for others, if certain explanations are +given. Let you two meet to-morrow, by all +means. Then, you must send for me and tell +me what has to be done.”</p> + +<p>He spoke with a weariness which the tender +inflection of his voice did not disguise from me. +He knew already <i>what was to be done</i>. It +came upon me with a shuddering dread that the +only way to destroy his inexplicable power was +to destroy its origin. Had he the right to live, +and, whether conscious or not, inflict mental<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> +suffering and ultimate death on certain unfortunate +human beings who strove helplessly +to check the overpowering force of the magnetism +which flowed from him? That was an +affrighting problem. Nor was it made easier +by Nora Cazenove’s present amazing attitude.</p> + +<p>The fiery anguish which convulsed her lithe +frame and blazed up in her eyes while she +poured forth her woes to me had gone with +the mere sight of him. The change was miraculous, +as wonderful in its way as the conversion +of Pygmalion’s marble goddess into flesh and +blood.</p> + +<p>A moment ago she was the central figure of +a tragedy; now she was just a girl hopelessly +in love, and she clung to Karl’s arm and gazed +up into his face, as they passed before me along +the corridor, for all the world as any smitten +Phyllis might fondle and adore her Corydon. +And then, an astounding thing happened.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX<br> + +<small>THE UNBIDDEN GUEST</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> corridor was a short, broad passage. +It was adorned with Raeburn portraits, a Lely +or two, and some small Sheraton cabinets laden +with rare china—treasures dimly revealed by +rays borrowed from the electric lamps in Miss +Cazenove’s boudoir. The open door of her +room permitted a bright panel of light to fall +across the parquet floor. Beyond lay artistic +gloom, bounded, as I knew, by the curtained +entrance to the suite of apartments given over +to the reception.</p> + +<p>My eyes were fixed directly on Karl’s tall +figure and on the magnificent creature, in some +wonderful Paris gown worthy of her statuesque +proportions, who clung so trustingly to his +arm. My thoughts—well, my thoughts were +busy enough, but I vouch for it that my mind +was clear and my perceptiveness neither alert +nor abstracted. Yet, no sooner did I step into +the darker area than I saw distinctly a glow, +or radiance, emanating from the girl’s bare +neck, shoulders, and arms.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>Imagination played me no trick, or, if I +were indeed the victim of fancy, the delusion +was extraordinarily accurate in detail, because +it seemed that clothing, however slight its +substance, choked the feeble gleam. Therefore, +only the visible portions of her arms +between the semi-diaphanous shoulder-straps +and the ends of the long gloves were irradiated. +The phosphorescent effect was indescribably +beautiful. Of course, in sober reflection, I +think phosphorescence a misnomer, being a +sheer impossibility, and I am driven to adopt +a natural simile in likening it to the pure, +green, shining light emitted by the female +glow-worm, so-called, to attract the male beetle +of its species.</p> + +<p>I would have voiced my amazement, notwithstanding +the spell cast on me by the loveliness +of this fascinating apparition, were it +not that, even as I tried to find words, both +Karl and his companion vanished from my +sight, and I was confronted by a totally different +scene. Instead of the half-visible corridor, +I tenanted a large room, brilliantly illuminated. +It is noteworthy, as testifying to my normal +condition, that I believed, for an instant, that +the communicating door had been opened to +allow the pair in front to enter the music salon.</p> + +<p>This impression quickly yielded to realities.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> +Yes, I repeat, realities. No ambiguous phrase +would describe the clear-cut recollection I +have of that vast square chamber, with its low, +Arabesque ceiling, its huge fireplace of Carrara +marble, its deep Italian windows, its wealth +of carved wainscoting and antique furniture. +A log fire burned dully in the grate. Kneeling +on a rug near the hearth, but in such a position +that I could see her profile, was a slimly built +girl, dressed in white, whom I recognized as +Maggie Hutchinson.</p> + +<p>Seemingly, she was alone. Tears were streaming +from her eyes, and her lips quivered, yet +I had a queer belief that her agitation arose +from some unhappy combination of sorrow +fraught with gladness, one of those tantalizing +experiences sent to vex frail mortality, wherein, +if only circumstances could be altered, abiding +melancholy would forthwith become extravagant +joy. Were I a painter, seeking inspiration +to depict an angel tempted to rebel but +faithful to an eternal vow, I should strive to +place on canvas the expression of Maggie +Hutchinson’s face caught in that transient +glimpse.</p> + +<p>And that was all.</p> + +<p>The door leading to the heedless throng of +guests was really flung open, I heard the cackle +of conversation blending with a piano solo,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> +my dazed eyes rested on Karl holding back the +curtain with a questioning smile on his face, +and I returned to solid earth again. Now, +I had seen Nora Cazenove surrounded with a +halo, and Maggie Hutchinson on her knees +crying, within the space of six and seven short +strides. Nevertheless, keen as my wits were +to note these things, they were slow enough to +return to a just appreciation of my surroundings.</p> + +<p>Karl told me afterwards that I arranged to +meet Nora at the Stanhope Gate, or call at her +house, at 2.30 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, next day, and he said that +I left it to the Meteorological Bureau to decide +which rendezvous we would attend. Anyhow, +I forget using any such phrase or even making +the appointment, and I first regained my grasp +of current events when we were seated in the +brougham which Karl had caused to be summoned +by telephone.</p> + +<p>“What do you think of it all now?” he asked +in the unemotional voice of a man who might +be alluding to the singing and the fiddling and +the scandal.</p> + +<p>“Karl, I am worn out,” I answered. “I +cannot center my ideas to-night.”</p> + +<p>“I also am worn out,” he said. “I shall +be even more weary to-morrow, but I must +endure my weariness without complaint. Therefore,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> +I wonder what you will say when you +know the truth.”</p> + +<p>“That light—on Nora—did you see it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Oh, yes.”</p> + +<p>“Was she conscious of it?”</p> + +<p>“Not of the light. That is resistance. You +saw Maggie, too?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. You made me see her.”</p> + +<p>“That is better. You are on the right track. +Soon you will understand the magnitude of +the task I am called on to accomplish during +the next few weeks—until I crack up, in fact. +Here is your hotel. <i>À demain!</i> I shall dine with +you, and then you can tell me what Nora says. I +know what she thinks, but women are secretive.”</p> + +<p>The drive through the cool night air restored +my faculties, but I was physically exhausted. +The long journey, the shock of seeing Karl’s +father in a paroxysm of agonized fear, the change +in Karl himself, and the quite extraordinary +æsthetic manifestations I had received—these +latter probably taking a good deal more out of +me than I allowed for—were sufficient to weary +any man. Nevertheless, my brain was active +enough in a commonplace way, and the thought +was borne in on me that I needed assistance if +the fiend which threatened the very lives of +several estimable persons were to be exorcised +successfully.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>To appeal to some distinguished alienist was +out of the question. He would begin by assuming +that Karl and Maggie and Nora, not to +mention Grier <i>père</i> and my eminent self, were +mad. In my dilemma I remembered Hooper. +Had he accepted that appointment at the Paris +Embassy? There was no harm in trying. I +wrote a telegram, which I left with the night +porter for despatch early in the morning, and it +was a real pleasure to read the typewritten slip +brought to my bedroom about 9 <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Charing Cross seven this evening. Get +Karl to ring off until I arrive—<span class="smcap">Hooper.</span>”</p> +</div> + +<p>His was a cheerful soul. The careless badinage +of his message was agreeable, and I ate +my breakfast in good spirits.</p> + +<p>It was a fine morning, with a summer sun +beaming from a cloudless sky. It is taking a +great risk to state this in cold print, because +readers have good memories, and many a dubious +eye will be cast on a narrative which +records unbroken sunshine in London. Nevertheless, +it is true, and, as shall be seen, the +weather was an essential factor in the proceedings +of that memorable time.</p> + +<p>After prolonged absence from Britain, my hats, +ties, gloves, and boots required to be Anglicized. +Piccadilly and the Burlington absorbed the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> +morning comfortably; half-past two o’clock +found me loitering, like any young sprig awaiting +his best girl, in front of the flower-beds at +Stanhope Gate.</p> + +<p>The minutes passed. Nora, like every other +woman, was unpunctual. The notion did not +occur to me at the time, but I am fairly sure now +that the girl’s dilatoriness, adding a slight pique +to the somewhat clandestine nature of the appointment, +helped to chase from my mind the +shadows of the previous night’s troubling experiences.</p> + +<p>She came at last. A flower-garden hat, a veil, +a fine lace dress and a pink parasol, were effective +disguises after the candor of evening attire. I +did not recognize this frilly young lady until she +spoke to me.</p> + +<p>“So you really are here?” she cried, with a +little laugh, and looking, I fancied, a trifle +embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“Did you not expect me?” I countered.</p> + +<p>“Oh, one never can tell. Things which look +serious under the electric light are apt to assume +less dragon-like proportions on such an afternoon +as this, and in the Park, of all places.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad you think so. Some such thought +has winged its way to me, too.”</p> + +<p>Rather a neat allusion to the object of our +meeting, don’t you think?—a quiet reference<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> +to the sixth sense, without dragging it in by the +scalp, so to speak—but Miss Cazenove shied +off the topic.</p> + +<p>“I chanced to remember that you said you +would be here about this time,” she said lamely. +“I fear I bored you with my silly confidences +last night, even more than poor Mr. M—— with +his poems.”</p> + +<p><i>Que diable!</i> Was this the fiery beauty who +regaled me at midnight with her tantrums because +her lover was moistening with imaginary +kisses the lips, the eyes, the very hair of a +rival?</p> + +<p>“Where a nice young woman is concerned I +have neither memory nor conscience,” said I, +gaily.</p> + +<p>“If you keep the one unburthened I shall not +trouble the other,” she retorted. And then, with +an airy dismissing of the subject, she asked: +“Which way are you going?”</p> + +<p>Will you believe it, I escorted her across the +Park, by the diagonal path to Albert Gate, +where she parted from me on some shopping +pretext, without another word being spoken +which referred in any way to Karl or her somewhat +strenuous <i>fiançailles</i>! I was puzzled, annoyed, +elaborately sarcastic with myself, for +how was I to know that this youthful goddess’ +veins were filled with a new ichor, her passions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> +soothed and her doubts dispelled by the wonder-working +force which her own heart-broken +appeal for help had set loose?</p> + +<p>A thrice fortunate chance kept Karl and me +apart in that hour. Nothing could have restrained +me from pooh-poohing the elaborate +make-believe in which he and the two girls were +living. Had it been so, I tremble now to picture +the probable outcome. I can see Karl waving +me aside in his quiet way, disdaining to reclaim +the pervert by compulsion, and refusing me any +further trust. I believe the sequel would have +killed me with grief.</p> + +<p>As it was, after some hours of undisturbed +reflection, I saw the stupidity of my reasoning. +Nora Cazenove was natural in her boudoir, +artificial in the Park. Once launched on this +new stream of logic, I was carried along with a +rapidity that left me gasping. Why should I, +in a mere pet induced by a woman’s vagary (as +I fancied it), be so ready to deny that which I +had affirmed during several years? Was there +aught outrageous in Karl’s telegnomic equipment? +He, a man—mentally and physically +almost perfect according to the precise enough +laws which govern human perfection in its ideality—might +well possess additional sense-activities +when the lowest forms of creation are +similarly gifted. There is hardly a vertebrate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> +fish in the sea which has not, on both sides of its +body, a mucous canal bristling with nerves to +enable it to perceive changes in water pressure, +or other unknown properties of the element in +which it lives—unknown, that is, to us, but +quite thoroughly known to the fish. Even man’s +legitimate sense-organs are inferior to the specialized +functions of certain animals. How would +Nimrod’s nose compare, in the sense of smell, +with the fine scent of his favorite hound, or the +range of my lady’s vision with that of the very +much smaller eye of a vulture? As for hearing, +ask some friend, learned in anatomy, to discourse +to you upon the higher sensitiveness and comparative +size of the cochlea, or snail-shell, formation +in the internal ear of a desert-bred +animal as contrasted with the same appliance +in the <i>genus homo</i>. This branch of research +chastens and humbles the mere man.</p> + +<p>While dressing early for dinner, so as to reach +the vestibule in good time to welcome Hooper, +I wondered how Karl had passed the day. +“Worn out” last night, he expected to be “even +more weary” when next we met. And then an +explanation of his words suggested itself which +caused a sudden nerve-shock similar, in some +respects, to that felt by the man who, in a +crowded house, slept on a made-up bed over +the bath, and, awaking drowsily, pulled the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> +string of the shower-bath when he wanted hot +water in the morning.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” I yelled, “I have it!”</p> + +<p>“Qu’ est-ce que vous avez trouvé, m’sieu’?” +demanded the startled valet who was arranging +my studs.</p> + +<p>I suppose the civil young Frenchman thought +I was ill, but I reassured him, though my excitement +must have made him believe that I was on +the verge of lunacy. Karl was using his magnetic +force continuously in order to preserve Nora +from the torturing consequences of her love for +him. That explained her attitude in the Park. +He had beaten down in her what he termed +“resistance.” She was quite passive, utterly +permeated with his influence. And Maggie? +In all probability she, too, was unconsciously +benefiting by her affinity to this human loadstone, +while he was wearing himself out, actually +consuming himself, in the fierce persistence of +the effort to spare them further suffering.</p> + +<p>This theory—I might almost term it a +positive knowledge so thoroughly did it hold +me—explained nearly every feature of the +strange events of the preceding twenty-four +hours. It fitted in with and amplified my +views on the happenings of earlier years, and +it gave me the first satisfactory clue to the +emotions exhibited by two such contradictory<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> +personalities as Nora Cazenove and Maggie +Hutchinson.</p> + +<p>I am sure the valet was glad to see the back +of me. I jammed my right foot into the left +boot, tried to put on my waistcoat inside out, +and fumbled with my tie until he volunteered +to arrange it, being prepared (I could see it +in his eye) to fight for his life if I grappled +with him.</p> + +<p>At last, I raced to the elevator. I wanted to +telephone to the Griers’ house and ask Karl +to come at once. But he saved me that period +of suspense. He was standing in the atrium, +smoking a cigarette. He strolled towards me, +and not even my tensely nervous condition—all +the more soul-devouring in that I was forced +to appear outwardly calm—prevented me from +seeing the discreet admiration he won from +such ladies as were seated there.</p> + +<p>“Ah! there you are!” he cried in his frankly +pleasant way. “The papers report another +fiasco in the yacht race. Is there ever any +wind in New York Bay?”</p> + +<p>“Heaps,” I said, “or so many hoodlums +would not have blown into the States.”</p> + +<p>We were near enough to shake hands.</p> + +<p>“How is Nora?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Just about the same as Maggie.”</p> + +<p>He winced. In the absorption of my new<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> +discovery I had forgotten that any flippant +allusion to the woman for whose sake he was +ready to lay down his life must be painful. +Yet, with a single keen glance into my face, he +read my true feelings, which, goodness knows, +were far removed from the pert words of my lips.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” I said. “I am unnerved by +reaching what you described last night as the +‘right track!’”</p> + +<p>“It must be disturbing.”</p> + +<p>“If my conclusions are justified,” I went on, +surveying him with as much coolness as I was +capable of, “you ought not to have that appearance +of abounding vitality which you +undoubtedly possess.”</p> + +<p>“That is because the weather is clear,” he +answered lightly. “If it were cloudy, I should +be a mere wreck. When the sun shines, or +the stars are visible, I have five times the +potentiality of a dull day. But you must eat, +man alive. Why are we discoursing here? +Shall I telephone Jules?”</p> + +<p>“No. Wait a few minutes. Hooper is coming.”</p> + +<p>“Hooper? Frank E. of that ilk?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Luckily, I located him in Paris and +wired him. He is due here any moment.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I shall be delighted to meet him. +But I cannot allow my affairs to travel outside +a very small circle.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>“And I cannot allow you to wither away on +my own responsibility.”</p> + +<p>“My dear fellow, don’t be vexed with me. +I am so eaten up with the mad helplessness +of it all that I resent the least prying by sceptical +outsiders. But if Hooper, or any other man +on God’s earth, can save me and others from the +doom which awaits one or all of us, lay me on +the dissecting table before him. I am ready.”</p> + +<p>Knowledge on his part, and a simple imitative +action on mine, turned our eyes simultaneously +towards the revolving door of the +hotel. Mr. Frank E. Hooper entered, spick +and span as if a troubled channel and grimy +railway were not. He was followed by a +rotund personage, olive-green in complexion, +bearing all the outward and visible signs of an +inward Jewishness. The sight of this stranger +gave me an indefinable thrill, a compound of +surprise and fear, with, perhaps, a touch of +bewilderment. Why, I cannot tell, but I knew +him instantly. I was so taken aback that I +found myself staring stupidly at Hooper, who +advanced with a cheery cry:</p> + +<p>“Well now, who’d have thought to find you +both here, and lookin’ so fine and dandy, too. +This is real good.”</p> + +<p>He winked at us portentously.</p> + +<p>“That’s Steindal!” he muttered in a stage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> +aside. “Met him in the Gare du Nord, and +talked him into comin’ to this hotel. Guessed +you’d like to see him.”</p> + +<p>“We are delighted,” said Karl, gently. +“Won’t you introduce us?”</p> + +<p>“Eh? Oh, this is great. Mr. Steindal! lend +me thine ear a moment. I want to make you +and my good friends known to one another. +Mr. Karl Grier—”</p> + +<p>No sooner did Steindal hear Karl’s name +than he flushed uncomfortably and backed +away. He was perturbed so greatly that +Hooper’s flow of language stopped abruptly.</p> + +<p>But Karl advanced a pace, and there was a +steady dominance in his glance which seemed +to fascinate while it disconcerted the Jew.</p> + +<p>“It is, indeed, a pleasure to meet you,” +he said. “Come and dine with us. Come +just as you are; and you, too, Hooper. It is +too late to change.”</p> + +<p>Without another spoken word he wheeled +towards the restaurant, walking across the +vestibule with head erect and hands clasped +behind his back.</p> + +<p>And we three followed, Steindal with the sulkiness +of a stricken dog, Hooper somewhat awed +by the unexpected outcome of the surprise he +had planned, and I—well, I felt as though some +wizard had converted me into an electric eel.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX<br> + +<small>STEINDAL GIVES A PUBLIC PERFORMANCE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Say</span>,” whispered Hooper to me, “Karl +looks like a high priest of Baal leading Steindal +to slaughter as a sacrificial bull.”</p> + +<p>I babbled something, it matters not what. +All my eyes were bent on the strange meeting +between those two. Karl, suavely stern, motioned +the Jew to a chair at a table laid for +four. They faced each other. Hooper and I +took the vacant places. Jules, of course, hastened +to us, and his attendant sprites relieved +the travelers of overcoats and hats.</p> + +<p>Steindal, manifestly ill at ease, glanced around +the crowded restaurant. He soon recognized +several <i>habitués</i>. One man, a well-known Stock +Exchange broker, hastened to greet him. While +they were speaking, I murmured to Karl:</p> + +<p>“Under the circumstances, is this wise?”</p> + +<p>“At any cost, I shall punish the man,” he +said. “I had almost forgotten his existence. +Fate sent him here to-night. I regret it, for +one reason, but I rejoice for many.”</p> + +<p>The one reason, I fancied, was that the +strain on his already weakening powers entailed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> +by the subjugation of Steindal would +demand a corresponding relaxation of the +tension needed to preserve the woman he +loved and the woman who loved him from +relapsing into their lamentable excitations. I +was right in this, as also in the surmise that +the erstwhile purveyor of musical celebrities +(Steindal was now a mining expert and a man +of great wealth in share certificates) would +prove a most stubborn subject before he yielded +to the demands of telegnomic reciprocity.</p> + +<p>It was to be a contest of Mind against Matter, +of the Soul in man against the Brute in man. +That is a primeval fight, a battle begun ere +many of the hills were fashioned or the oceans +charted as we know them; nor did I doubt the +issue of its latest renewal. But what form +would it take? Would Karl kill Steindal? +If Steindal were the bull of sacrifice, would +Karl supply the fire to consume him before +our very eyes?</p> + +<p>Haply, I had no opportunity for ordered +thought. Events began to march, as they say +on the Boul Mich, and, for a little time, I remained +an outwardly quiet spectator of doings +which soon set the restaurant in an uproar.</p> + +<p>Steindal, who had drawn somewhat apart in +earnest conversation with his friend from Capel +Court, came back to us. He looked confidently<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> +enough at Karl. Evidently he was determined +to brazen out a difficult situation.</p> + +<p>“I feel a little <i>hors de concours</i> in these garments,” +he said, quite affably, speaking in the +smooth, sibilant voice which reminded me of +Karl’s likening his utterance to that of a boa-constrictor.</p> + +<p>“Ah, you speak French, too!” exclaimed Karl +with a grim geniality. “The last time we met +you indulged mostly in Spanish.”</p> + +<p>“The last time! We have never met before. +I—er—think I have heard of you from a man +named Constantine.”</p> + +<p>Certainly Steindal had splendid nerves. He +arranged himself comfortably at the table. The +chef of the Pall Mall Hotel had a great name for +appetizing dishes, and Jules was hovering about +with alert pencil and memoranda tablets.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Poor Constantine! Killed himself, +didn’t he? Did you ever hear why?”</p> + +<p>Karl, I noticed, had his hands clasped and +resting on the table. The significance of this +attitude dawned upon me then. He thus completed +some magnetic circuit of intense potency.</p> + +<p>“Never heard a word,” said Steindal, who +seemed to accept Karl’s presence with greater +complacency each moment. “That is to say, I +knew he was worried about some girl. As if any +woman were worth suicide! <i>Sango la Madonna!</i>”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>“That is more like the Steindal of old, though +the appeal is to a strange patroness,” cried Karl. +“Oh, do not worry, Jules! Give us fish, flesh, +and fowl, and bring the best wine of France. +We leave details to you.”</p> + +<p>The head waiter whisked off. That sort of +order is comprehensible. The diner surrenders +at discretion, no matter what the charge.</p> + +<p>“Your references to past acquaintance puzzle +me,” said the Jew, politely keeping to the thread +of the conversation.</p> + +<p>“Then I must be mistaken. Perhaps Constantine +gave me a picture so vivid that it burnt +itself into my memory.”</p> + +<p>“That is a popular attribute of the fiend, and +hardly flattering to me,” laughed the other.</p> + +<p>“Well, there is some truth in it, and it may +even contain a germ of adulation. Unless I err +again, you played Mephisto to Constantine’s +Faust, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Very likely. I knew many Margarets in +those days.”</p> + +<p>I expected an explosion after that singularly +apt, yet unfortunate, reply, but, beyond a slight +contraction of the eyelids and twitching of the +nostrils, Karl gave no sign. Steindal was so +unctuously candid, so shielded by the armor of +money and conceit, that I deemed him impenetrable +by the hidden lightning with which Karl<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> +was enveloping him. I changed my opinion ere +many minutes passed.</p> + +<p>“Many Margarets,” repeated Karl, musingly, +“and many Fausts, but only one devil, Steindal.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so? Then he exists in numerous +forms. <i>Sapristi!</i> Here is another and +familiar imp in a <i>sole diable</i>. And an ’84 +champagne! You can’t get this wine in Paris.”</p> + +<p>Steindal had that insufferable habit of tucking +a napkin under his chin. He began to eat. He +swallowed two glasses of wine with surprising +haste. Karl relapsed into silence. Hooper and +I spoke of generalities. An orchestra was tuning +up, and Karl whispered to a waiter. I saw that +the conductor held a confabulation with the bassoon-player, +and the band struck into an allegro +movement which I did not recognize at once.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Karl leaned forward. His eyes +blazed with fire. Had the hotel clerk of former +years been in the room he would have remembered +that look.</p> + +<p>“That is your cue, Mephisto,” he said, his +low-pitched voice vibrating with intense energy. +“Up you get! On the chair! You know the +words:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse"> +Dio dell’ or del mondo, signor,</div> +<div class="verse">Sei possente risplendente</div> +<div class="verse">Culto hai tu maggior quaggiù.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>That’s it! Now!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>And Steindal, skipping to his feet, mounted +the chair with surprising agility, and began to +sing, with a fine assumption of the basso profundo +manner, the rollicking song with which +Mephistopheles disturbed the village revels. +What could be more amazing than the action, +more appropriate than the air? It has been +rendered in English:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">Clear the way for the Calf of Gold!</div> +<div class="indent">In his pomp and pride adore him;</div> +<div class="verse">East or West, in heat or cold,</div> +<div class="indent">Weak and strong must bow before him!</div> +<div class="verse">Wisest men do homage mute</div> +<div class="verse">To the image of the brute....</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Steindal, posturing on the chair in absurd caricature +of a Plançon or Edouard de Reszke, was +fairly launched into the opening strofa before +Hooper or I quite realized what was happening. +Some ladies at neighboring tables shrank from +us with alarm. People farther away rose and +gazed at us wide-eyed. A sharp-witted genius, +scenting some mischief, shouted “Bravo!” and +the band, thinking an artistic joke was in train, +kept up the accompaniment. Jules and an +under-manager hurried towards us, but, seeing +that the diners were, if anything, inclined to +applaud, they resolved to defer their appeal for +orderly behavior on Steindal’s part until he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> +made an end. He sang both verses admirably, +the band helping in the chorus, and, with the +final wild phrase:</p> + +<p class="center">Tuo ministro è Belzebù,</p> + +<p>a perfect hurricane of encouraging cries and +rattling of cutlery came from all sides.</p> + +<p>Steindal bowed in the approved style, and +descended from his rostrum. He was not disturbed +in the least. Obviously, Karl held him +in a state of complete aphanasia, and this magnate +of a Rand which he had never seen had not +the remotest notion that he was making a supreme +ass of himself. Nor was it altogether +patent that others took that severe view. Certainly, +the stock-broker regarded him with a +pained curiosity, but most of those present +seemed to look upon the escapade as the light-hearted +ebullience of a foreigner.</p> + +<p>Our waiters brought some variety of meat, +goodness knows what, and Steindal tackled it +with keen zest, first sluicing his strained vocal +cords with more wine. The orchestra swung off +into a pleasing waltz. Hooper and I, though +disconcerted by the covert attention our party +attracted, were beginning to take an intelligent +interest in the dinner when Karl called on his +medium for another “turn.”</p> + +<p>“In your vanished youth, Steindal,” he hissed,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> +“you were a circus acrobat. Before you gorge +too much give us a contortion or two!”</p> + +<p>Instantly the unhappy Wilhelm sprang upright +again. He grabbed his chair, set it apart +from the table with a professional bang on the +floor, and forthwith stood on his head and +hands. His coat and the white napkin flapped +down over his face, coins rattled from his +pockets, and his obese figure looked exceedingly +comical as he poised himself feet upwards and +slowly turned, so that all might see and admire. +After a pause, he bounced back to the floor, +but only to grasp the chair in a new way +and extend himself horizontally, resting on his +hands.</p> + +<p>This time there were no plaudits. Something +approaching a panic reigned throughout the +room. The song was deemed a pardonable +extravagance, but these grotesque posturings +savored of madness. Like everybody else, I +was so taken up with Steindal’s antics that I +paid no heed to Karl, nor did my flurried +thoughts credit him with creating the wave of +fear and disgust which now converted popular +tolerance into disapprobation.</p> + +<p>Women shrieked; there was a rush of excited +guests and perplexed waiters. Then somebody—probably +the gentleman who cried “Bravo” +a few minutes before—bawled:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>“Turn him out! He is either mad or drunk!”</p> + +<p>Absolutely heedless of the commotion he was +causing, Steindal finished his balancing, gave a +little skip reminiscent of the ring, smiled blandly, +and kissed his finger-tips. Then he squatted on +the carpet, and endeavored to do that which was +impossible for a man of his build by trying to +cross his feet over his shoulders.</p> + +<p>This was too much. Jules, aided by a couple +of waiters, clutched Steindal and pulled him out +of the knot. He became very angry, swore outlandishly, +fought, kicked, squealed, and was +hauled out by main force, while a man gathered +up his scattered money.</p> + +<p>“And now,” said Karl, with an air of placid +relief, “now that I have made that self-satisfied +little wretch the laughing-stock of London, let +us have some dinner.”</p> + +<p>So that was the explanation of the extraordinary +scene! Karl had not forgotten Steindal’s +outspoken rage when the hapless Armenian +created a similar disturbance in a New York +restaurant. He divined that Steindal could only +be scarified through his colossal vanity. “The +laughing-stock of London!”—that would be a +barbed shaft; its wound would never heal. +When Steindal regained possession of his senses +he would learn the disastrous truth. Even if he +escaped prosecution for disorderly conduct, some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> +kind friend would surely tell him how he sang, +and balanced, and contorted! He would howl +and writhe in impotent fury. There was no +legal redress. None would credit him, nor +would he dare take that course. He could only +accuse Karl of exercising some terrible influence +upon him, and, in that event, the laughter would +be even more wide-spread, while his overbearing +reputation, which stood him in good stead in +financial circles, must be lost irrecoverably.</p> + +<p>The disordered diners were beginning to arrange +themselves once more. The band, owing +to the conductor’s happy thought, broke into the +magnificent trio, “O del Ciel,” for those Italians +can play you anything of Gounod’s or Verdi’s +right off the reel, and a great many persons +smiled broadly as they caught the musical satire.</p> + +<p>The stock-broker hurried out.</p> + +<p>“He has gone to look after his friend. It is a +kindly act,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Guess he has gone to glue himself on to the +Paris telephone,” commented Hooper, dryly. +“Steindal’s stocks are mainly held in France. +Let it once get round that he is cracked, and +they will drop into the place beneath like the +gentle dew from heaven.”</p> + +<p>Hooper’s perversion of Shakespeare was condoned +by his knowledge of human nature. The +telephone girl told me afterwards that the broker<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span> +paid a fabulous sum for half an hour’s talk with +Paris that night.</p> + +<p>“What will happen to Steindal, do you +think?” I asked Karl.</p> + +<p>“He is gradually recovering. In less than an +hour he will be all right. I expect the hotel +people, knowing his identity, will put him to bed +and send for a doctor. But he wants no doctor. +He will clamor for a purveyor of guns and +daggers.”</p> + +<p>“You believe he will plan vengeance against +you?”</p> + +<p>“Most decidedly. He is no coward. His +mother was a Mexican dancer. She taught +him to throw a knife before he learnt the alphabet. +Ask him the meaning of <i>la cuchillada</i> +and you will see his eyes glisten.”</p> + +<p>Here was a nice outcome of a freak worthy +of some light-headed schoolboy with a taste +for practical joking. In addition to his other +troubles, Karl had saddled himself with a +mortal feud.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” I cried in a sudden heat, “this is +intolerable. What a counselor your father +brought from Heidelberg when he summoned +me!”</p> + +<p>“Have no fear,” said Karl, toying with a +salad; “Steindal cannot injure me. The little +beast! I could paralyze his uplifted hand.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>Karl could do that, I knew. Nevertheless, I +was a prey to disquieting thoughts.</p> + +<p>Hooper, blessed with a temperament which +could take an equable view of the Day of +Judgment, began to review events in his practical +way.</p> + +<p>“I can credit you with accomplishing almost +anything in the present tense, Karl,” he said; +“but I am taken out of my stride when you dip +into history. How did you know Steindal had +been a circus acrobat?”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> knew.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Some one told me years ago. I +thought of it while he was singing, but I have +never mentioned it to you.”</p> + +<p>Karl smiled wearily.</p> + +<p>“That was enough,” he said.</p> + +<p>“My dear fellow, can you read my thoughts?”</p> + +<p>“A little while ago I read the thoughts of +every living being in this room. And what +is more, I supplied the thoughts of most of them. +Now, I would like to forget Steindal. Why +did you fail to let me know you were in Paris?”</p> + +<p>“I have a notion that any giving of information +on my part would be kind of superfluous,” +laughed Hooper.</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken. Here you are at my +mercy; in Paris you are safe. The world +holds nearly two thousand millions of people.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> +Except under special circumstances, I cannot +pretend to single out individuals.”</p> + +<p>I listened to their talk with little real comprehension. +I was wondering what would be +the outcome of the scene I had just witnessed. +I seemed to be sitting in some theater, watching +a drama of intense interest, with its thrills +of pathos and human agony, and its snatches +of comic relief. While the clown was setting +the audience in a roar with his unconscious +buffoonery the sad-hearted heroine was waiting +in the wings to harrow us in the next breath.</p> + +<p>And was it so in sober earnest? Was Maggie +Hutchinson waiting, in her far-off Round Castle +on the shores of Como, fully aware of the farce +being enacted in the restaurant, and ready to +take her cue when the moment arrived for her +tribulation? How could I be sure? Was it +possible to be certain of anything when all +the common laws of nature were being turned +topsy-turvy by a youngster whose weird powers +were as yet but vaguely acknowledged by +those few doubting believers acquainted with +them?</p> + +<p>I have often looked back on that extraordinary +dinner in the Pall Mall Hotel. I know +now that a great deal was revealed to me in +that hour, but I was so overcome by the exciting +outward aspects of the manifestations that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> +I missed the inward message they carried. +I am not alone in this crass blindness to hidden +truth. When Gounod wrote the opera which +gave Karl the text for Steindal’s undoing, +Mr. Gye, the then chief operatic manager of +London, saw nothing in it but “a waltz and a +chorus of old men.” Paris would not have it. +The Théâtre Lyrique produced it with financial +loss. And one man, Choudens, thought +he was taking a tremendous risk when he purchased +the publishing rights for £400. Happy +Choudens! He cleared nearly £120,000 by +the venture.</p> + +<p>Yet <i>Faust</i> was as great in 1839 as it is to-day. +Only man has become enlightened.</p> + +<p>I was brought to see things clearly in much +less than half a century. But it saddens me +to know how much I missed while Steindal +was singing his devil’s song and gyrating on +his head and hands!</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI<br> + +<small>HOOPER SUGGESTS A WAY OUT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Though</span> Steindal was gone, we remained +the center of observation. Perhaps others wondered, +like Scapin, what the deuce he was +doing in our boat. Karl, who was distinctly +fatigued, did that which I had never seen him +do before—he drank some wine. He seemed +to be willing enough to talk freely, but held in +leash by the presence of so many strangers. +Hooper, I knew, was consumed with impatience, +but he preserved the outward demeanor of a +North American Indian. So there was a common +agreement when I suggested that my sitting-room +was the right place in which to smoke. +Once there, Hooper threw aside the mask.</p> + +<p>“I have the accumulated questions of five +years to fire at you. Are you ready?” he +said to Karl.</p> + +<p>“Quite ready. I would only ask you to +remember that a Hindu ascetic once devoted +thirty years to the consideration of one great +question: ‘Whence?’ and when he emerged +from retirement he astonished his disciples +by merely propounding another: ‘Whither?’”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>“I go one better by putting both. Whence +comes this amazing sense of yours, and whither +does it tend?”</p> + +<p>“If it amuses you to hear my guesses on those +points, I am not disinclined to bring them +into the light. Have either of you heard of +Paul Flechsig’s ‘organs of thought’ theory? +Yes? Well, he holds, as you know, that in the +gray bed of the brain there are four inner +spheres of sensation—the sphere of touch +in the vertical lobe, the sphere of sight in the +occipital lobe, the sphere of smell in the frontal +lobe, and the sphere of hearing in the temporal +lobe. These are the sense-centers. Between, +and in active communication with them, lie +the four great thought-centers, containing an +elaborate and peculiar nerve-structure. Take +away the enveloping tissues and bones, and +you have a wonderfully complex instrument, +balanced, so to speak, on the spinal cord. +This, in the descent of man, is not the outcome +of, but an essential preliminary to, the brain. +I imagine that a comparative anatomist would +assign far more importance to the spinal cord +than, let us say, a philosopher would give it. +Be that as it may, I am quite certain, in my +case, that the spine possesses magnetic polarity +to an extraordinary degree. Without going +into an extensive lecture on the subject, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> +believe that I have answered your first question. +The second bristles with difficulties. I can +only tell you that I affect others, who have the +same latent attributes, by the exercise of the +principle roughly known to science as magnetic +induction. Notwithstanding the curious things +you have seen, my powers are strictly limited. +At a given moment I can induce varying sensations +in different subjects, and these sensations, +carried to the thought-centers, set in +motion the sense-centers. If such faculties +were common to all, life would be more simple, +and, perhaps, less mechanical.”</p> + +<p>“That is an extraordinary conclusion,” I +broke in.</p> + +<p>“It sounds contradictory, but I think analysis +of my meaning will bear me out. Come +now, Hooper, I look to you for support. I +recall your famous thesis that man contains +within himself all the possibilities of invention. +Man required the power to communicate +speedily with his fellows. After long ages, +he has evolved the electric telegraph and the +telephone. I reach the same end without the +cumbrous means. Certain people would dub +my sixth sense supernatural, or transcendental, +meaning thereby something which can exist +and operate without a material basis. That +is ridiculous. If such well-known beverages as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> +tea and coffee can stimulate thought, if alcohol +can intensify feeling, if musk can reanimate +the fainting consciousness and ether deaden it, +is it not clear that the ordinary senses have an +anatomical basis yielding to chemical action? +My sixth sense is a true natural phenomenon, +and, when I come to be dissected in the interests +of science, you must ask the anatomist to +explain—”</p> + +<p>There was a sound at the door as of one +fumbling at the handle.</p> + +<p>I rose, surprised that any one should seek +to enter without knocking. Then the door +opened, and Steindal appeared. I learned afterwards +that he had recovered very rapidly from +his seeming madness, and had persuaded the +hotel attendants to leave him alone, on the +plea that he would sleep. A doctor, too, +summoned hastily, bore out his statement that +he was in a normal condition of health. By +tipping a housemaid, who knew nothing of the +scene in the restaurant, he reached my room.</p> + +<p>So far as I could judge, he was unarmed. +Nevertheless, I barred the way, but he paid no +heed to me. He dodged, in order to see Karl.</p> + +<p>“I want to speak to you,” he said thickly, +addressing Karl.</p> + +<p>“Come in, then,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>Thinking that three of us could surely overpower<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span> +him at once if he attempted violence, I +stood aside.</p> + +<p>Seen in the half-light of the corridor, Steindal +looked his own tubby, commonplace self, but +the bright interior of the room revealed the +rough usage to which he had been subjected. +His chin was scratched, his collar and shirt +loosened by the breaking of a stud, the breast-pocket +of his coat was torn, and his long, +black, smooth hair ruffled.</p> + +<p>The expression of his face offered a study in +physiology. The corners of his thick, salacious +lips turned upward with the scowl of an +enraged animal. His eyes, usually black and +beady, were now dark red, and darting shifting +glances at all parts of Karl’s body. Their +constant movement was fascinating. If you +have ever seen a bull-fight, and watched the +last stand of the Andalusian monarch of the +herd as he faces the matador, well aware that +the bright straight blade in the man’s right +hand is ready to seek his heart’s blood, yet +compelled to watch the flutterings of a bit of +red silk on the <i>muleta</i> in his predestined slayer’s +left hand, you will form some notion of the +suppressed fury which gleamed from Steindal’s +quickly-moving eyes.</p> + +<p>Yet his voice, though it had lost its smoothness, +was well under control.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>“Whatever else you may be, I don’t suppose +you are a coward,” said he.</p> + +<p>I believe, to this day, that Steindal could +actually smell blood in that instant. His nostrils +twitched slightly, and his tongue darted +forth to salivate his lips. Hooper and I might +have been non-existent for all the heed he paid +to us.</p> + +<p>“No, I am not,” said Karl.</p> + +<p>“Then you will travel with me to France to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“That would be useless, Steindal. I can +paralyze your arm, root you immovable to the +ground.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, but that would make you, indeed, a +coward. Yet, I take the chance. I will fight +you with my hands tied, if need be. My teeth +will serve.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot fight you,” said Karl, slowly. “I +refuse to murder you, and certainly I shall not +let you murder me. No, Steindal, you must +live. I am sorry to be so hard on you, but you +really must continue to exist.”</p> + +<p>“Is that your final answer?”</p> + +<p>“Absolutely.”</p> + +<p>“Do you assign a cause?”</p> + +<p>“For you, punishment, and, it may be, +retribution, to be followed perhaps by the +emergence of a soul from your bloated body.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> +For me, suffering too, in a form you cannot +understand.”</p> + +<p>“I decline your terms,” murmured Steindal, +moistening his lips again and advancing a pace.</p> + +<p>“Go!” said Karl, sternly, and, to my utter +surprise, the other man turned and quitted +the room. We heard him walk steadily down +the corridor, and caught the click of his boots +as he stepped on to a marble staircase. It +was Hooper who broke the queer silence which +fell on us.</p> + +<p>“You seem to have taken the measure of +Steindal’s backbone, at any rate?” he commented.</p> + +<p>“Where I am concerned, he is no longer a +free agent,” said Karl, wearily.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” I interposed, “why you deal so +harshly with a man you have never actually met +before to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Because I loathe such a creature. He represents +the pig in man. He has brought horror +and abasement to hundreds. Now he must +wallow in the only degradation that makes him +contemptible in his own esteem. But forgive +me if I leave you. You and Hooper can find +much to discuss, and I must be alone.”</p> + +<p>He stood upright, and drew a hand across his +eyes. I seemed to perceive a slackening of the +muscles of his finely molded frame which was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> +almost a symptom of complete enervation. It +was a new and unaccountable alarm which +impelled me to say:</p> + +<p>“Will you go home, Karl, and promise me to +try and sleep?”</p> + +<p>“I am going home,” he replied. “Good-night!”</p> + +<p>Clearly, he did not desire any courteous leave-taking +in the vestibule. I did not offer to accompany +him. When I knew that he had descended +the stairs—thus avoiding the elevator and its +possible publicity—I rejoined Hooper.</p> + +<p>He was smoking, and his gaze was fixed on +the ceiling. I was in no mood for talk just +then. More by force of habit than otherwise, +I rang for a waiter and ordered whisky and +soda. The mere presence of the man, with his +servile affability and his laden tray, was a tonic +in itself. He brought me back from illimitable +depths to the workaday world.</p> + +<p>“Do you partake?” I asked Hooper.</p> + +<p>“Yep.”</p> + +<p>The cigar wedged between his teeth rendered +the final labial the easier manner of speech. I +found his presence soothing, too. I poured out +a small quantity of spirit, and, while the waiter +was uncorking a bottle of soda water, I looked +out of the window. It was a glorious summer +evening when last I saw the streets. Now the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> +flaring lights were reflected in wavering zigzags +on road and pavements, while the shining capes +of ’bus-drivers and cabmen caught the eye as +moving pyramids.</p> + +<p>“Good heavens!” I cried, “it is raining!”</p> + +<p>There was a loud report. The attendant had +drenched himself.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,” he stammered, “but +you did make me jump, an’ no mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Better have the remainder of the soda poured +over your head,” snapped Hooper at me.</p> + +<p>“But I tell you it is raining,” I shouted +excitedly.</p> + +<p>“Give it to me, waiter, if you are afraid,” +said Hooper, firmly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I had forgotten you did not know that +Karl has to exert many times the force in unsettled +weather that he requires when the sky is +clear. Hooper, he may not live days, let alone +weeks.”</p> + +<p>I quailed before the American’s warning +glance, and ceased speaking. The waiter was +glad to close the door on us, I am sure. Hooper +led me to a chair.</p> + +<p>“Sit down, partner,” he said. “I have been +trying to theorize. A certain Greek gentleman +named Empedocles, dated 500 <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span>, believed that +he had solved the puzzle of life when he defined +the love and hatred of the elements. I think we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> +have reached his track. But you know the kind +of elements we have to deal with, and I do not. +Discourse to me of Karl, and Maggie, and—is +there another woman?”</p> + +<p>“There is,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Bully for me!” he cried delightedly. “The +eternal feminine would have the shortest life on +record if there weren’t two of ’em. Now, let’s +have the whole yarn. I am a good listener.”</p> + +<p>So I told him everything, fact and fancy, until +my voice gave out, and we were amazed to find +I had been talking for nearly three hours. It +was long past midnight when I noticed the clock.</p> + +<p>“Let us to bed,” I wheezed. “We must +consult in the morning.”</p> + +<p>He, in his turn, looked out at the weather.</p> + +<p>“It has ceased raining and the stars are +visible,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Thank goodness for that! Karl will experience +some relief.”</p> + +<p>“I think not. If he and the rest of us are not +qualifying for an asylum by believing the truth +of what you have told me, don’t you see that the +strain is cumulative? He cannot, I may almost +say he dare not, sleep. He is deliberately sacrificing +himself to save those women. He thinks, +and we agree with him, that his death will snap +the tension. They will grieve over his loss, no +doubt, but their tears will be a measure of salvation.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> +I tell you, my friend, we are up against a +hard proposition. Were it not utterly selfish, +I could almost wish you had left me in Paris.”</p> + +<p>“I was tempted to share the responsibility +with some one whom I could trust.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I see that. And don’t think I would +shirk my duty to a comrade like Karl. Yet, I +fear for him. Something must be done, and +done quickly, if we would rescue him. Oh, if +only I knew more of science and less of law! +What is the meaning of this resistance we hear +so much of? Is it the same thing in Steindal +and Nora Cazenove? It seems to stir up ignoble +passion in both, though the manner of it is so +different to our perception. And that is strange, +unless the question of sex enters largely into it.”</p> + +<p>“Affinity and repulsion are the two fundamental +principles of all creation. I have heard +you say, years ago, that Karl threw us back to +first causes.”</p> + +<p>“We are dealing now with men and women of +to-day,” he cried, pacing up and down the room.</p> + +<p>I had never before seen him so genuinely disturbed. +His artificial coolness had melted, as +ice might fall off a volcano in eruption after long +quiescence. I had great respect for the clearness +of his mental vision; there was also a certain +consolation in witnessing this sudden upheaval. +That a skilled lawyer, a man of great acumen in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> +affairs, and, for one of his years, an astonishingly +cool-headed judge of human nature, should be +so perturbed by the issues submitted to him, +offered some proof that I had not magnified +their gravity.</p> + +<p>“Do you think we can regard Steindal as a +negligible quantity?” he asked, halting in front +of me and piercing me with his large earnest eyes.</p> + +<p>“It would seem to be reasonable from his +latest attitude,” I admitted.</p> + +<p>“Then we are driven back on the women. +What of this girl, Nora? She is the chief difficulty. +It is perfectly evident that the sympathetic +bond, or whatever it is, which exists between +Karl and Maggie, was broken, or remained in +abeyance, from the day of Constantine’s death +until there sprang up some lover-like relationship +between Karl and Nora. Then Maggie intervened, +whether by her own volition or not is +unknown, and, to an extent, inconsequent. Karl +recognized the impossibility of marriage with +Nora, but it was beyond him to give a reason +that would be accepted by his father, nor was he +so callous as to offer up Maggie as a holocaust. +Therefore, he has definitely adopted a course of +action which demands his own death. There is +no other alternative. Either Maggie or he must +die. The way out—if there is one—lies with +Nora—or Maggie.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>“But what can we do? We cannot kill one +of them, even for the sake of our friend.”</p> + +<p>“No, but we can bring them together before +it is too late.”</p> + +<p>“What good purpose will that accomplish?”</p> + +<p>“It may achieve a hundred different purposes +which are impracticable when one woman is in +Italy and the other woman in England. Let us +get them face to face and things will happen. +Sit right down and write me a letter of introduction +to Nora. Just say I am a friend of all +parties, and leave the remainder of the explanation +to me. I will take care of her, and of Karl, +too, not to mention Steindal, until you bring +Maggie from the Castello Rondo.”</p> + +<p>“Until I—bring—”</p> + +<p>“Repetition is the vainest form of argument. +Don’t speak, there’s a good fellow. Indeed, you +can’t. When all this trouble is through, I would +advise you to consult a specialist. Weakness of +the vocal chords is an early symptom of decay. +Now write, while I look up the train service.”</p> + +<p>I compared Hooper to a volcano; I might go +further and say that the lava-stream of his impetuosity +quite swept me off my feet. It is a +splendid thing, in a crisis, to have a masterful +ally. His confidence lent me new life. He +rushed off to make inquiries beneath, and I sat +down to write a note to Nora. In black and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span> +white the task was not so easy as Hooper would +have it.</p> + +<p>Ultimately, I wrote as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“It would not be just to you or to Karl were +I to conceal my firm conviction that you both +are faced with a most serious problem. Certain +events which took place in this hotel to-night, +combined with my own observations of Karl’s +health, force me to tell you that the ensuing +week may see the gravest developments, so far +as he is concerned. In my opinion, I can best +help him by taking a journey to Italy, without +losing an unnecessary hour. I want you also +to help, and I am sending you this letter by the +hands of one who is a friend of Karl’s, anxious +to be of service to you, and thoroughly acquainted +with the present critical condition of +affairs. Trust him, as I hope you will trust me, +to act for the common good.”</p> +</div> + +<p>I read through what I had written, not once, +but half a dozen times. Letters to excitable +young ladies are dangerous as the boomerang in +the hands of a novice. If the worst came to the +worst, and Karl died, who could tell what hubbub +might be raised by Nora Cazenove? At +any rate, it was quite inadvisable to allude more +specifically to the uncanny workings of a sixth +sense.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>“Telegnomy and a coroner’s jury do not run +in tandem,” said Hooper, taking my view of the +need there was to use guarded phrases.</p> + +<p>He also approved of the reference to Italy.</p> + +<p>“She has jumped Maggie’s claim and she +knows it. It may be my regrettable duty to +make that clear right away,” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“Do not blame the girl,” I said. “Remember +that the match was made by Mr. Grier and +Lord Sandilands.”</p> + +<p>“I guess that didn’t worry Nora. But your +best train leaves at nine in the morning, and you +have a voice like a crow. If you don’t give it a +rest you will not be able to ask for your ticket. +Leave Nora to me, there’s a good chap. I’ll fix +her.”</p> + +<p>I had seen Nora ablaze with the fire of the +gods, so I doubted the effect of Hooper’s coercion +or persuasiveness. Yet he had brought action +where there was uncertainty, substituted ordered +effort for chaos, and I was grateful to him.</p> + +<p>Hence, I slept and breakfasted, and caught +the first morning express for the Continent.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII<br> + +<small>NORA FACES THE INEVITABLE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">I am</span> inclined to believe that each one of my +fair readers, and a majority of those mere +males of less account, would gladly accompany +me in my journey south by east across the map +of Europe. I say this, not by reason of over-weening +pride in my personal charm as a +<i>compagnon de voyage</i>, but because of the journey’s +objective. At the present stage of my +story, Maggie Hutchinson is surely an interesting +personage. Have you ever heard or read +of another heroine so situated? Mark you, +she knew Karl when she was a little child. +After ten years’ separation she met him, under +very peculiar conditions, for a few hours in a +London hotel. And now, five years later, +without ever a word exchanged between them +during all that long time, her life was indissolubly +bound up with his, a passionate love +united her to him with ties never dreamed of +by tender Juliet or devoted Héloïse, and to +crown the midsummer madness of it all, Karl +was deliberately killing himself to save another +woman’s life.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>It is a pardonable assumption, therefore, that +every true devotee of romance should be eager +to meet her face to face. I know that I was. +I quitted Charing Cross in a state of nervous +exaltation to which my seasoned heart had +long been a stranger.</p> + +<p>But Fate, the master playwright, had ordained +that influences I had not foreseen should +fill the stage for many an hour ere I reached +the Castello Rondo in far-off Italy. In fact, +none of us had taken into account Karl’s +mother.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grier was not enamored of high society +as it is understood in London. She was +a German, and she had never lost her Teuton’s +tastes. First, and necessarily, a good housekeeper, +she gave her spare time to reading. +She hardly ever glanced at a newspaper, nor +did she dawdle through more than one novel +a year. She kept her household accounts, +contrived economies in an annual expenditure +of many thousands, looked after the practical +management of certain estates, and, for the +rest, saw as little as possible of fashionable +folk, but isolated herself with some portentous +professorial treatise on the more serious matters +of life, or sought relaxation in the pages of her +beloved Schiller.</p> + +<p>This was excellent while Grier senior was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span> +accumulating riches, and Karl followed the +beaten track leading to a suitable marriage +and a peerage. But she had lost none of her +maternal love for her wonderful son, and +her shrewd eyes soon divined the anxiety of +her husband, the silent endurance of Karl. At +first, her questions encountered a certain gentle +evasiveness. She persisted, and the elder Grier +admitted that all was not well between Karl +and Nora.</p> + +<p>Then the mother entered the arena, and +you need never ask in whose behalf she drew +the sword.</p> + +<p>“If Karl does not want to marry Nora Cazenove, +why are you trying to force him into a +distasteful match?” she demanded of her distressed +partner.</p> + +<p>“I am doing nothing of the kind,” was the +instant answer.</p> + +<p>“Then who <i>is</i> doing it?”</p> + +<p>“No one. He seemed to be happy in his +engagement. All went well until this inf—this +dreadful sixth sense of his seized upon +him, threatening to wring the very soul out of +him.”</p> + +<p>“I believe he has always hankered after +Maggie Hutchinson.”</p> + +<p>“How can that be? We have not coerced +his judgment. He has not made the slightest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span> +effort to meet her for years. I am not prone +to superstition, but there are times when I +imagine that the watch Constantine gave him +is an evil thing, a constant reminder of the +man’s unhappy death.”</p> + +<p>To what a depth of misery must my old +friend have been reduced before he would seek +such an ignoble explanation of his sorrows!</p> + +<p>“Unberufen! Unberufen!” cried Mrs. Grier, +for she was born in the Black Forest, and the +scientific essay was not yet written which +should rescue her wholly from belief in cryptic +omens of malign import.</p> + +<p>On the morning of my departure for Como, +Karl did not appear at breakfast. His mother +went to him. She found him in his dressing-room, +smoking in seeming content.</p> + +<p>“Now, Karl,” she said, sitting on an arm +of his easy chair and placing a loving hand on +his shoulder, “tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p>He was far too wise to pretend to misunderstand.</p> + +<p>“There is not much to tell, mother,” he said +placidly. “I find that I cannot marry Nora, +and, in view of the wide-spread interest taken +in our engagement, that is a sad thing, is it not?”</p> + +<p>“What is stopping you from marrying her?”</p> + +<p>“Some intangible influence which you women +call love. It is an affinity whose properties<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> +are shared by all creation, from unicellular protozoa +up or down, to the highest anthropoids. +Even air and water are composed of sympathetic +gases, so—”</p> + +<p>“Karl, be serious.”</p> + +<p>“Mother, I <i>am</i> serious. Paris was drawn to +Helen by a living force which leaped the +strongest walls of reason and morality, and +the same impetuous movement unites two +atoms of hydrogen to one atom of oxygen in +order to form water. Now, wait a moment! +Introduce a Menelaus or an atom of nitrogen, +and you have an explosion.”</p> + +<p>“You are fencing with me, <i>liebchen</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, I am not.”</p> + +<p>“Then, if Margaret Hutchinson is your +Helen, and there is no Menelaus, you must tell +Nora Cazenove that it would not be fair to +her to take her as your wife when you love +another.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think that is the best thing to do?”</p> + +<p>“I am so sure of it that if you dislike the +task I will go to her myself.”</p> + +<p>Karl saw that his mother meant what she +said. Heavy-hearted by the necessity of it, +he set himself deliberately to deceive her.</p> + +<p>“There is no harm in waiting a few days,” +he said.</p> + +<p>“There is every harm. Your father is quite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> +beside himself with care. I have never seen +him so disturbed.”</p> + +<p>Karl bit his pipe firmly between his teeth. +His father had kept the secret, then? His +mother did not know all.</p> + +<p>“I have a reason for saying that,” he continued, +after a slight pause. “However faithfully +I may have worshiped Maggie from afar +there is no knowing how she regards me.”</p> + +<p>“But you <i>do</i> know.”</p> + +<p>“Not in the accepted meaning of the term. +I may be blinded by my own conceit. To settle +matters, an old friend has gone to Como to +see how my inamorata regards me.”</p> + +<p>“An old friend! Who is it that is so interested +in my son?”</p> + +<p>He knew that his mother’s heart rebelled +against the suggestion of a stranger taking part +in affairs so vital to himself of which she had +been kept in ignorance.</p> + +<p>With a well-assumed carelessness, he told her +how Hooper and I were planning to expedite his +wooing, and he so insisted on the humor of our +dark conspiracy, when he was fully aware of +each act and word, that he won a smile to her +kindly face.</p> + +<p>Yet her alarmed perplexity did not abate. +There was a subtle change in Karl which in no +way escaped her. He was thinner, altogether<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> +unstrung and devitalized. She was conscious, +too, of a physical tension in his attitude which +was strangely at variance with the wonted suppleness +of an athletic youngster of his fine +proportions.</p> + +<p>“When does this embassy return?” she asked +musingly.</p> + +<p>“I cannot say. You forget that I have not +been consulted,” he grumbled with a well-feigned +laugh.</p> + +<p>“And Mr. Hooper remains in London?”</p> + +<p>“That is a part of the plot.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. Be ready to take me to the hotel +in half an hour. There is a flower-show at +Richmond which I wish to visit. We shall call +for Mr. Hooper, drive to Richmond, pass some +time at the show, and return here for tea.”</p> + +<p>In a word, Karl was to be tied to his mother’s +apron-strings for a while. And Hooper was to +be drawn judiciously. It was a simple expedient; +for Mrs. Grier had failed utterly to recognize +the real nature of the problem which faced +her, and not her alone, but all of us. Her son’s +sixth sense had always remained a thing apart +and wholly incomprehensible. She had heard +little of it during recent years. The pranks he +used to play occasionally served but to amuse +her. Thus, he could summon any servant in +the house by causing that particular domestic<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span> +to fancy he or she heard a bell or a voice. He +was exceedingly reliable as a weather prophet, +especially when the conditions were settled for +either rain or sunshine. Once, when a guest, a +<i>malade imaginaire</i>, was bothering Mrs. Grier +and her cook by the multiplicity of dishes he +could not eat and the few he could eat but +which disagreed with him, Karl made him tackle +an outrageous meal of many courses with a +hearty gusto. The poor man’s famished digestion +stood the ordeal well, and he slept for twelve +hours thereafter, to the great joy of the household +and his own confusion.</p> + +<p>I might multiply hundreds of these minor happenings, +and it is not surprising that Mrs. Grier +came to regard them as of slight importance, +whereas the existing grave situation was not only +of recent growth, but its nature and extent had +been sedulously kept from her. So, there never +was less tangible connection between trivial +cause and actual effect than between the mother’s +resolve to keep an eye on her son for a day or +two and the outcome of that resolution.</p> + +<p>Examining events in critical review afterwards, +I saw that a host of things which might +have occurred were diverted from their obvious +channels by Mrs. Grier’s interference at that +moment. Some of these became clear before +many hours had sped.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>First and foremost of these baffled circumstances—Hooper’s +acquaintance with Miss +Cazenove was delayed a whole day. Secondly—but +here I avail myself of the only chance +given me in the course of a singularly straightforward +tale to whet the reader’s appetite somewhat +by refusing to raise the curtain on the last +act of the drama before the penultimate scene +has been packed away with the other stage +accessories.</p> + +<p>And, indeed, I am concealing nothing from +you in the ordered narration of the story. Mrs. +Grier kept the two young men busy all the day, +and insisted on Hooper remaining to dinner that +evening. She learnt not a word which cleared +the puzzle. Hooper and Karl were chiefly reminiscent +in their talk. The shrewd American +quickly took the cue of his friend’s attitude. +Neither by look nor speech did he betray the +trust reposed in him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grier twice swung the conversation +round to the occupants of the Castello Rondo. +She did this neatly and without undue insistence, +and quite as cleverly did Hooper express his +desire to meet such an exceptionally gifted girl +as Maggie Hutchinson was, by all accounts.</p> + +<p>Dear lady! She remained awake that night +until assured that Karl was safe and sound in +his room. She was bewildered, but far from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span> +alarmed. Yet she knelt and prayed long and +earnestly for the welfare of her loved ones, husband +and son, and her last conscious words, +uttered with trembling lips ere she closed her +tear-laden eyes, were:—</p> + +<p>“Karl, mein liebchen, Gott befolen!”</p> + +<p>Little did she dream that she owed her restful +sleep to the influence which Karl exerted in her +behalf, nor has she ever known the terrible strain +she imposed by her well-meant efforts to pierce +the mystery which surrounded him. That was +mercifully kept from her. Had she ever realized +that the long-drawn-out programme she devised +in order to distract his mind was really the +quickest means to bring him to utter destruction, +she would never have forgiven herself.</p> + +<p>Hooper was on the rack all the time. The +signs which an anxious mother interpreted as +lassitude and a weariness of spirit were clear +evidence to him that Karl was suffering an agony +of restraint.</p> + +<p>“I was at my wits’ end what to say or do,” +he told me subsequently. “I was afraid that +Karl might crack up at any moment. Brain +fever was the best thing I could hope for him; +but, somehow, though doctoring is a science I +know less of than conchology, I felt that relief +would not come in that way. Once or twice I +managed to touch his hand as if by accident.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span> +He was cool and firm as a block of ice. He +knew what I was up to, and smiled at me in +such despair! Guess I had a cold chill down +my spine enough to give a rhinoceros influenza!”</p> + +<p>Strange, was it not, that Hooper should use +such a simile after what Karl had said? But +I must guard against digression. There is a +fitting place for analysis, but a man may not +stand up in a canoe and make a speech on the +laws of bodies in motion when his frail craft is +hurtling through rock-strewn rapids.</p> + +<p>“It was a heavy risk I took,” went on my +fellow-conspirator, “but I was sure that Karl +was more taxed by his mother’s close observation +than by the manifold demands on his stamina +entailed by other considerations. So I +bluffed. Oxford was a natural goal. I suggested +that he and I should visit our old ’Varsity +next day, and Mrs. Grier approved of the idea. +That is how I managed to install him in our +sitting-room at the hotel early on the following +morning. There he was at peace.”</p> + +<p>Karl showed a great desire, at that time, to +discuss his sixth sense fully and freely with one +who might be trusted to listen without scepticism. +He acquainted Hooper with many marvels +which reached my ears in due course. And, +happily, the freedom from restraint had the good +effect of inducing a slight drowsiness. He would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span> +not admit it, but Hooper was quite convinced +that he had not slept during the preceding four +days at least.</p> + +<p>That afternoon he yielded sufficiently to the +demands of outraged nature to sink into a heavy +sleep, though we found, on inquiry—not from +him but from those whose well-being he was +protecting at his own irreparable loss—that his +control over them never slackened for an instant.</p> + +<p>Thinking that the best thing possible had +happened, Hooper calmly locked him in, and +told the floor attendant to ask Mr. Grier to +await his (Hooper’s) return if he woke up and +rang.</p> + +<p>Then, fast as a hansom could carry him, he +hurried to Sandilands House, there to learn +that the Honorable Nora Cazenove had driven +to the Griers’, with laudable intent to take +Mrs. Grier and Karl to Hurlingham.</p> + +<p>The pen almost refuses to write these colorless +annals of ordinary life in town when they +are contrasted with the extraordinary incidents +to which they directly contributed. Yet they +are essential to my story as plain brick and +mortar to some noble edifice which inspires +the muse of many generations of poets.</p> + +<p>Hooper ascertained that Miss Cazenove would +return home about half-past six, to dress for +dinner and the opera. None but an American<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> +could have extracted this information from a +severe London footman. There is a charming +affability, a dramatic good-fellowship, about +our transatlantic cousins which ignores the traditional +reserve of England.</p> + +<p>Racing back to the hotel, Hooper found +Karl still asleep. At 6.35 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> he coolly telephoned +to Miss Nora, and quite as coolly read +her my letter of introduction over the wire.</p> + +<p>“I guess I shook her up good an’ hard,” he +said to me, in the exchange of further confidences, +and I quite believe it.</p> + +<p>He pressed inflexibly for an immediate interview. +At all hazards, now, he was determined +to make known to her the dangerous atmosphere +in which her fiancée was existing.</p> + +<p>“Her voice was a bit scared as she discussed +things,” he declared, “but, after chewing on +it for a minute or two, she asked me to meet +her at the opera at eight o’clock sharp. The +lady who would chaperon her, and some other +friends, would not be there until nearly nine. +She would go in advance, leaving a message +for her chaperon, and we could talk undisturbed. +I allow I rather cottoned to a girl +who could fix things as slick as that.”</p> + +<p>Karl was seemingly sunk in the sleep of sheer +weakness. Hooper counted on meeting Nora +and returning to the hotel in time to arouse<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> +Karl for a late meal, and then see him safely +home, or even detain him for the night after +explaining matters to his father and mother.</p> + +<p>Indeed, things were going so well that he +was buoyed up with a new hope. He dressed +rapidly, reached Covent Garden, and saw a +lady whom he took to be Nora Cazenove +descend from a brougham, cross the vestibule +while darting an interrogatory glance at its +denizens, and hasten up the stairs.</p> + +<p>He was right. An attendant took his card, +the lady halted smilingly, and Hooper made +himself known.</p> + +<p>A well-bred, bright-eyed, alert young American +is seldom at a discount under such conditions. +The spice of the unusual procedure, +flavored by a certain curiosity, led Nora to +receive him graciously, if with a not unnatural +shyness arising from the innuendoes of my +letter and Hooper’s own persistence in seeking +the meeting.</p> + +<p>He lost no time in tackling the subject for +which she had accorded the rendezvous. Once +they were seated in the box, and the strains of +the orchestra (how remarkably was music +interwoven with the vital events of Karl’s +career!) made it impossible for his voice to +carry through the thin partitions on each side, +Hooper plunged into a clear, decisive, and, to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span> +any ears save those of a woman in love, convincing +history of Karl’s sixth sense and its +latest astounding developments.</p> + +<p>Though she protested vehemently, and threatened +(though probably not quite in earnest +in this) to leave the theater, Hooper spared her +no shred of the evidence which proved that +Karl was killing himself on her account.</p> + +<p>Never did a nice young man carry out an +harder self-imposed ordeal with a nice young +woman than Hooper that evening in his impassioned +plea to Nora Cazenove for his friend’s +life.</p> + +<p>“I never let up on her for an instant,” he +said in his own picturesque way. “We had +a heart-to-heart talk. The storming of San +Juan Hill was child’s play to the way in which +I hurled my battalions of fact against her +entrenchments of romance. When I pictured +Karl’s impending collapse, the inconsolable +despair of his parents, her own unending self-reproach, +and even the broken-hearted sorrow +of her successful rival, I got her to the point +of yielding. I pitied her for her suffering, +but I promised her the reward of the consciousness +of having acted nobly. She, and Karl, +and Maggie, were the victims of circumstances. +They could no more help what had happened +than moths driven out to sea by a summer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span> +hurricane. One of them must let go for the +good of all. If she renounced Karl voluntarily, +there was a chance, and perhaps only a remote +chance, that a tragedy might be averted. I +could not guarantee that. But it was the one +way out, in your judgment and mine, while +her marriage with Karl was simply not to be +thought of, because he would be dead within a +week.”</p> + +<p>Think of this strenuous advocate piling +Pelion upon Ossa to scale the fortress of a +woman’s fierce love, asking her to believe the +incredible, to sacrifice herself, not only for the +sake of the man she worshiped, but to secure +the happiness of another woman! And yet, +he nearly won. Of that he was certain.</p> + +<p>He kept until the last the fact that Karl was +even then lying in the hotel, weary almost unto +dissolution, utterly spent by the struggle which +he had waged in her behalf. It seemed to +him that the intensity of his convictions had +borne down the barrier Karl himself had +erected in Nora’s heart and brain. She was +on the point of yielding. The words trembled +on her lips which would set Karl free, but the +dénouement came in a fashion which neither +of them expected.</p> + +<p>Hitherto she had been greatly distressed, +yet the exigencies of the time and place restrained<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span> +her protests to the spoken word, the +flashing eye, the tremulous lip.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she rose to her feet and staggered +back into the dark interior of the box. Had +not Hooper caught her in his arms she would +have fallen.</p> + +<p>“Oh, take me home, take me home!” she +wailed. “For pity’s sake, do not leave me! +Karl is dead!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII<br> + +<small>“A STRUGGLE ’TWIXT LOVE AND DEATH”</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now you shall hie with me to Italy. +I had missed the over-night Engadine Rapide +to Lucerne, and Hooper’s enthusiasm sent me +to Dover two hours too early. As it happens, +I take a lasting delight in getting the better of the +terrible line between London and the channel, +which any man may do by catching a fast train +slightly in advance of the boat express and +carrying his grip from the town station to the +pier. He thus avoids the scandalous over-charge +of the boat trains, and lays the unction +to his soul that he is not a holder of “Doras.”</p> + +<p>All day long I was looking at scenes familiar +to my eyes. Lille, Douai, St. Quentin, Laon—how +the old cities of French Flanders and +Picardy brought the ghosts of past years trooping +before me. Then, as night fell, began +that interminable running into and out of +frontier stations on rails laid in crescents, so +that you are seldom certain where the engine is, +and it is hard to persuade your nervous fellow-passenger, +who has never taken the journey +before, that he or she is not in the wrong train.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>Thus, accompanied by the babel of funny +noises inseparable from French railways, I dozed +through a rumbling journey and reached Basle +in the early morning. It will perhaps scarce be +credited (seeing that I have posed, and justly, +as an experienced <i>voyageur</i>) that I quitted London +without ascertaining the exact locality of +the Castello Rondo. At Lucerne I purchased a +guide-book to the Italian Lakes, virgin territory +to me, notwithstanding all my jaunts in strange +lands. I discovered, to my dismay, that the +shores of Lake Como cover nearly a hundred +miles, while towns cluster round its “efflorescent +loveliness” in a fine profusion. Bellagio, Cadenabbia +and Como I had heard of, but who was +to distinguish Domaso from Dongo, or Colico +from Cremia?</p> + +<p>To add to my annoyance, the writer of the +guide-book spread himself on the fact that each +jutting peninsula or verdant slope held “castles +with turreted towers, peeping out, ever and anon, +from the sylvan woods which hide them.” +Cheerfully could I have wrung his neck for that +sentence. It tortured me until the slow Italian +train deposited me at Como at eleven o’clock, +which, allowing for mid-Europe time, was +slightly in advance of the hour Frank Hooper +called at Sandilands House.</p> + +<p>You will remember that Nora had gone out,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span> +meaning to drive Mrs. Grier and Karl to Hurlingham. +Karl, of course, was then asleep in +the Pall Mall Hotel, so the two ladies went +together, and a fine fencing-match they indulged +in, without a doubt. But they, at least, used +words which they understood, even if they tried +to cloak their meaning, while I used a language +which I did not understand in striving to wrest +from several voluble Italians the whereabouts +of the Castello Rondo and the Signora Hutchinson. +One brigandish person reeled off fourteen +likely places, so I quitted the terminus in wrath, +found the English-speaking proprietor of a +hotel, and luckily ascertained from him that the +lady and mansion I was in search of would +surely be in the neighborhood of Bellagio.</p> + +<p>I believed him, and took a steamer for a two +hours’ journey on the lake. When I saw the +superb panorama opening up in front, when the +Villa d’Este spread its wondrous array of terraces, +temples, waterfalls, gardens, and fountains +before my astonished eyes, I forgave the guide-book +man. Some day I mean to ramble along +those enchanted shores—some day, ere the +world grows dim—if only to visit that sixty-foot +monument erected at Laglio by Joseph Frank +to his own memory and in grateful acknowledgment +of his own worth. His was a noble idea. +If the rich and distinguished people we know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span> +would but adopt it, and justly appraise themselves +at their own valuation, the face of the +earth would soon be covered with costly memorials.</p> + +<p>The lake is shaped somewhat on the lines of +the Three Legs of the Isle of Man, with Bellagio +perched on a dividing promontory. I reached +the landing-stage at exactly 6.45 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, Greenwich +time.</p> + +<p>At no great distance, I noticed the round +towers of a castellated building nestling among +the trees of a rock-guarded point. <i>Pace</i> Shakespeare, +there is a good deal in a name.</p> + +<p>An intelligent-looking vetturino seized me, +but, ere I yielded, I pointed to the building +which caught my eye.</p> + +<p>“Castello Rondo?” I cried.</p> + +<p>“Si, signor.” He smiled.</p> + +<p>“Signora Hutchinson?”</p> + +<p>“Per certo, signor.” He grinned all over his +face. No doubt you have noticed the stupid +habit of foreigners (when you do not know their +language) in not replying “Yes” or “No” to +your questions.</p> + +<p>Anyhow, the words had a reassuring sound. +I gave him the name of the hotel, and he appeared +to regard my advent as a license to kill +all who dared to cross his path. I think I heard +every bad word in the Italian tongue before the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span> +vehicle deposited me, with a series of wild bounds +up hill and down dale, at the hotel portico. The +coachman swore at his horse, at pedestrians, +chickens, dogs, and other charioteers, and interlarded +his scurrility with appeals to the saints.</p> + +<p>I believe he informed me that if I patronized +him exclusively during my stay in Bellagio he +would always drive like that. To do him justice, +he kept his contract. I only saw him twice +again, and in the second drive we bagged a hen, +an apple-barrow, and the crutch of a cripple, +who recovered miraculously when our fiery steed +snorted down his neck.</p> + +<p>A tub and a change of raiment removed the +dust of empires. Now that I was actually in +the same locality as Maggie Hutchinson, the +means whereby I was to achieve my object were +not so clear as the object itself. By hook or by +crook I hoped to bring Miss Margaret and her +mother back with me to London. The first +train, in reason, left Como the following afternoon, +and was timed to reach Victoria twenty-nine +hours later.</p> + +<p>So two whole days must pass before Hooper +(to whom I had telegraphed my arrival) could +expect relief. Would it be too late? And, in +any event, would the ladies consent to accompany +me? I was consumed with impatience, +so perplexed and worried that I despatched a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span> +second telegram to Hooper, asking him to wire +me news of some sort. I strove to eat, but I +was too eager for action to sit through a dinner +of many courses.</p> + +<p>Ultimately, I resolved to visit the Castello +Rondo much earlier than politeness permitted, +on the supposition that its occupants dined at +the usual hour.</p> + +<p>Outside the hotel my vetturino was watching +for me, vulture-like, as his ancestors for many a +generation had watched for the passing of unwary +travelers through Cis-Alpine gorges. I +have already recounted the exciting nature of +our transit across Bellagio. The man was evidently +mad with the joy of securing an Englishman.</p> + +<p>The killing of the hen, the frenzy of the apple-vender, +the curses of the cured cripple, each in +its way tended to fend off the weight which a +difficult task imposed on my spirits. Nevertheless, +my heart sank in my boots when I raised a +ponderous knocker, a wrought-iron ring in the +mouth of a beautifully modeled lion’s head, and +delivered the first note of my mandate to Karl’s +lady-love.</p> + +<p>That was a lasting peculiarity of my friend’s +sixth sense. Once removed from its aura, the +mind began to deny it, faith wavered, the familiar +things of life forbade its acceptance. Its nature<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span> +and influence stood apart from all accepted +theories of existence. It was inexplicable, insoluble, +more nebulous than the Nirvana of the +Buddhists. One felt as awkward as a professed +scientist who purposed addressing a critical +audience on the demonstrable truths of astrology +or the doctrines of Mrs. Mary Baker G. Eddy.</p> + +<p>My Jehu promised to await me <i>tutta via</i>, and +I was admitted into a medieval courtyard—ancient +in architectural design, that is—because +the building was not old. Troubled though I +was, a glance showed that the mansion was +modern enough in its luxuries and equipment. +Beyond a Grecian colonnade lay a smooth carpet +of grass. Behind it, a series of terraces stretched +down to the lake. Although the water was +crimson with the glory of the setting sun, although +clipped shrubs and ornamental flower-beds +were still glorious in the light of day, I was +positively startled to see that the nearest lawn +was the identical spot I had visited during the +momentary spell Karl had cast upon me when +we dined together on the night of my return from +Heidelberg.</p> + +<p>The knowledge shocked distrust out of my +heart. I was thrice armed now. The whole +crowd of extraordinary experiences which I +had undergone since the uneventful picnic in +the Schonau Forest rushed in on my memory.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span> +To lose belief in Karl was to account myself +insane.</p> + +<p>In popular idiom, we speak of certain events +serving to “stiffen our backbone.” The phrase +has an added peculiarity when examined in +its telegnomic significance, but, whatever its +inward meaning, it had a salutary force for +me just then. I had scarce noted the landscape +of my waking dream when a tall elegant-looking +young man came to me. I recognized +him at once. He was the third figure of that +uncanny moonlit scene—the “Italian, of good +birth, madly in love with Maggie.”</p> + +<p>“I regret to say Miss Hutchinson is indisposed,” +he said in excellent English.</p> + +<p>I have encountered several well-born Italians +who are warranted to get up a frantic passion +in five minutes for any nice young lady dowered +with great wealth. I am glad to say I took this +cavalier’s measure at a glance. Perhaps, by +and by, I may cultivate a sixth sense of my +own. At any rate, I was quite sure he had +snatched my card from the stupid domestic +who came with him to the courtyard, and was +interposing a barrier between Maggie and me.</p> + +<p>“Did Miss Hutchinson send that message +to me?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No; not exactly. She does not receive at +this hour.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span>“You have mistaken an urgent matter for a +mere social call,” I answered. “I have come +straight to this house from London. I must +see Miss Hutchinson immediately. Kindly send +my card to her. She knows my name.”</p> + +<p>To avoid a scene, I let him down lightly. +But when one man wishes to tell another that +he is a cur, there are many varieties of speech. +He flushed darkly, yet he had the wit to take the +<i>via media</i> I offered.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry,” he said, with a bow of excessive +courtesy. “The servant did not explain +matters.”</p> + +<p>He gabbled some instructions in Italian, +handed over my pasteboard, and proceeded +to question me politely about my business. I +found this amusing, but I had no wish to +quarrel with him, so I gave him verbally what +my old friend, Toff Wall, the “Brummagem +Pet,” used to call a “steadier on the breadbasket” +by hinting at falling stocks, and followed +it up with a “smasher on the snuff-box” +in the shape of lachrymose comment on the +sad reverses of fortune some people were subjected +to.</p> + +<p>This by-play was ended by the appearance +of Maggie herself. In the rich half-light of +that evening in wonderland, I thought I had +never seen a woman so ethereally beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>The plump school-girl contour had given +place to a delightfully piquant femininity. +Surprise, pleasure, a vague feeling of alarm, +enlivened her mobile face and incardinated +her pale cheeks with a delicious rose tint.</p> + +<p>I was quick to note, too, that she glanced at +the Italian with some astonishment, even as +she flitted towards me with outstretched hands, +nor did she pay heed to the explanatory lie he +murmured rapidly in his own language. I +learnt afterwards that it was <i>his</i> presence for +which she was “indisposed.” But let him +pass. I only set eyes on him once again—at +the railway station.</p> + +<p>“I am delighted to see you,” she cried. +“Remember you? Of course I do. But is it +true what Baptisto said—that you have traveled +from London on some errand of importance to +me?”</p> + +<p>“It is quite true,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, come this way. It is nothing serious, +I hope? Is—is Mrs. Grier ill?”</p> + +<p>“No. It is on Karl’s behalf I am here.”</p> + +<p>“Karl! Why Karl? I have not—met him +for many years.”</p> + +<p>The slight pause, with its distinctive choice +of a word, did not escape me. She was leading +me through the house, a treasury of art in +canvas and stone, and she had now ushered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span> +me into a room which, as I fully anticipated, +was the boudoir-studio in which I had already +seen her.</p> + +<p>We were alone. I last beheld her on her +knees in that identical apartment, and the +memory of her tear-stained face surged in on +me. It was no time to pick and choose expressions. +The stereotyped language which I +had framed to convey my thoughts was wholly +inadequate to the demands of an interview +fraught with such a momentous result.</p> + +<p>I placed a hand on her shoulder, and I fear +there was somewhat of a break in my voice as +I said:</p> + +<p>“I know much about you two. I cannot +hold back my message. Karl, in this instant, +is engaged in a desperate struggle between +love and death. I come to you for him if not +from him. I want you to return with me to +England and save him.”</p> + +<p>“Save him!” she repeated, her large brown +eyes dilating with a terror the true cause of +which I did not divine instantly.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I am speaking from my heart. Karl +is at death’s door. I, and another acquainted +with all the circumstances, believe that you +can bring him back to life. But you must +come quickly. Even now you may be too +late.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>She faced me with a vehemence that was +altogether unexpected.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” she cried. “You +speak in riddles. What is Karl to me? I +have driven him out of my heart, crushed his +very image in my brain. He is nothing to me.”</p> + +<p>Her excited protest aroused my resentment.</p> + +<p>“You, too, are using words which are meaningless +if judged only by the common laws of +entity. Yet it is not a week since you knelt +here, in a passion of tears, and wrapped Karl +in your innermost soul. Do not deceive yourself +any longer. He is your preordained mate, +and he is pining for you. Yet he is giving his +life to rescue you from emotions which cause +you poignant suffering. Go to him! Clasp +him in your arms! You cannot, you must not, +continue to resist him.”</p> + +<p>Poor girl! She looked wildly into my eyes, +and then shrank away from me with a heartbreaking +sob. She could not choose but believe +me. In some respects, I was as thoroughly +unstrung as she. I did not stop to consider +whether or not I had taken the best way to +win her to my point of view. Yet I endeavored +most desperately, and it is somewhat to my +credit, I fancy, to rescue the situation from +the tornado into which it was plunged so suddenly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>“Try and listen to me calmly,” I said, for +Maggie was crumpled up in a low chair, and +gasping, without tears, in that agonizing manner +of women when misery vanquishes them. +“Karl loves you, and you love him. The +sovereign passion has made a battle-ground of +your hearts. You are at once happy and +miserable, conscious of a superhuman ecstasy, +yet self-condemned to separation from the one +being who is all in all to you. The tension +cannot endure. For five years the voluntary +screen erected by you placed him and you in a +spiritual trance. It has fallen now, and forever, +yielding to the rude assault of those who +dare to sever the bond which unites you until +death. Is it not time you flew to your lover’s +embrace? Do you hold your scruples dearer +than his life?”</p> + +<p>“No, no, not that,” she whispered. “None +can be to Karl what I have been. But I am +fearful of myself, fearful that I may destroy +what I cannot create. Oh, what shall I say +to make you understand that I have withheld +myself from him not for my own sake but for +his?”</p> + +<p>“Let me reassure you there. Though Karl +has never spoken to me of his love for you, I +am sure he appreciates your self-sacrifice to +the uttermost degree. And I, too, vaguely yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span> +sincerely as I conceive a life beyond the grave, +have formed some idea of the burthen you have +borne. You are an inseparable element of +Karl’s existence. Owing to you, and through +you, he developed faculties whose potency +now threatens to overwhelm him. You are +part of his very being, the spontaneous Eve of +his earthly Paradise. Joined with you, he +rises beyond the clouds of our present knowledge. +Bereft of you, he sinks back to the level +of every-day humanity. Do not force me to +say harsh things of an obstinacy which keeps +you apart.”</p> + +<p>“It was through me that Constantine died. +I saw him torn to pieces. I heard his last cry. +Would you have me eternally branded with a +crime?”</p> + +<p>Were it not for the tragic consequences of +her decision, I could have smiled at this despairing +effort to divert me from the track of the +shadowy truth I was pursuing.</p> + +<p>“You know full well that Constantine paid +the penalty of the heedless man who touches a +live wire,” I protested. “You must blame +his folly, not the relentless force which he incredulously +despised. Come, now, Miss Hutchinson, +I have said sufficient to prove to you +that one other in the world, besides you and +Karl, has probed the depths of the enigma<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span> +which has terrified you for years. You are a +woman to-day, not the timid girl who first +saw visions on board the <i>Merlin</i>, and you +have all a woman’s capacity for boundless +love. The fight and the dread are ended. +You must come with me to Karl, and all will +be well.”</p> + +<p>Going back to-day to the memories of that +astounding scene, when I, to rescue my friend, +flung prudence and a great many other wise +restraints to the winds, I am guiltily conscious +that the possible effect on Nora Cazenove of a +marriage between Karl and Maggie did not +weigh greatly in the scale of my argument. +A man who sees a ghost may be pardoned if he +uses certain extravagant expressions and entertains +one-sided views on the subject of +specters. I was nearer to the mysterious +essence of telegnomy than I knew. Here, in +the actual presence of the fair creature who +was symbolic of the everlasting revivification +of nature, I was carried out of myself, rapt +to the skies in a mystical mood of awestricken +exaltation. “My heart was hot within me, +and while I was thus musing the fire kindled.” +I seemed to be hovering on the very lip of +knowledge. That which is sown in weakness +and raised in power, sown a natural body and +raised a spiritual body—that which men loosely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span> +style eternity—was clothing its enduring divinity +with the perishable garments of earth.</p> + +<p>How long I stood there, dazed with the +immensity of this new intellectual horizon, I +know not. The need of further speech had +gone. Maggie, clasping her hands on her +knees, was gazing at me with eyes which saw +not, and I was waiting as though for some +dread sentence which should snap invisible +chains of wondrous strength, when a great +change came over her face.</p> + +<p>From abounding melancholy her aspect +altered to that of transfixed horror. She sprang +from the chair in which she was sitting and +caught my arm with the tenacious strength +of partial dementia.</p> + +<p>“It is too late!” she muttered in a terrible +voice. “Steindal has murdered Karl! And I, +too, have helped to kill him! Oh, may Heaven +forgive me!”</p> + +<p>She herself sank as one dead. I held her +while I cried in a frenzy for help. The wonder +is that I did not collapse by her side.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV<br> + +<small>THE FALL OF THE CURTAIN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">I suppose</span> there are some supercilious mortals +who will cavil at what they may be pleased to +term the sensationalism of those doings in the +London opera house and the Italian villa. +There will surely be others ready to scoff at +the fine rage into which Hooper and I worked +ourselves in order to arrange the somewhat +involved love affairs of a friend. Well, to the +one set of critics, I can only reply that Karl +did not die—in fact, if they turn back to the +opening lines of this history, they will find his +future career, a peaceful life blessed by an +enchanted matrimony, set forth in the clearest +words at my command. As for the others, +the utterers of jibes, I have no such logical +hammer with which to pound them to a jelly. +There are those who have eyes and see not, +ears and hear not; and who shall give them +the additional senses the lack of which was +thus deplored by the Evangelist Mark?</p> + +<p>Indeed, I must not expect a host of believers. +Some few will understand me when I say that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span> +it is possible for a man or a woman to love +at first sight, instantly, absolutely, and forever. +But—goodness me!—that doctrine will +not go down with the multitude, and my natural +candor impels me to admit that it would be +a very troublesome and evil thing for the multitude +if it did.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, I wish to explain, for the +benefit of the elect (and we, dear fellow-visionary, +you who are blessed with the full heart +and the dreaming brain, we are the elect—of +that there can be no manner of doubt in <i>our</i> +minds), why it came about that Nora Cazenove +and Maggie Hutchinson actually knew that +Karl was suddenly stricken out of consciousness, +a state which, to their overladen souls, +was equivalent to his death.</p> + +<p>Karl, locked in the suite of rooms at the Pall +Mall Hotel, awoke from his restful sleep about +eight o’clock. He was surprised to see by the +shadows and the appearance of the streets +that the hour was really as late as a glance at +a clock revealed to his incredulous eyes. He +wondered why and where Hooper had gone. +Thinking that his friend, having evidently +dressed for dinner, was dining alone rather +than disturb him, he rang for the valet, and +then came the explanation of the locked door.</p> + +<p>It was the easiest thing for Karl to discover<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span> +what Hooper was doing. The additional demand +on his telegnomic sense made by such a +quest was infinitesimal. But, probably because +he was exceedingly run down and weak from +want of food and sufficient rest, he yielded to a +quick anger, determinedly set himself against +any inquiry, and ordered the attendant to +open the outer door immediately.</p> + +<p>Of course, he was obeyed.</p> + +<p>He could not change his clothing, but he +laved his face and hands in cold water. This +was refreshing in itself, but thenceforth he +became aware of a steadily increasing strain +on his magnetic energies. His nervous system +was a delicate organism vastly more sensitive +than the finest instrument known to science, +though some have reached such perfection +that a suspended needle in England can scratch +on a prepared plate a record of the direction +and magnitude of a ten seconds’ earthquake +at the Antipodes. He did not fear immediate +dissolution as the result of the added burthen. +He had devoted himself continuously, during +many days, to maintaining the mental poise, +so to speak, of the two human beings whose +lives were so intimately linked with his own. +He knew the exact strength of magnetic current +needed for the task, and the perceptible growth +of the tension now puzzled but did not alarm him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span>The slight feeling of irritation against Hooper +was succeeded by a species of teeth-setting, a +back-to-the-wall attitude, which hardened his +resolve not to seek any information but simply +to devote his dynamic powers to the new and +strange tax made on them.</p> + +<p>In a mood which may almost be termed one +of bravado, he went down-stairs and entered the +restaurant.</p> + +<p>“Have you seen anything of Mr. Hooper?” +he asked Jules, the head waiter.</p> + +<p>“Mais non, M’sieu’. He hass not been here +at all.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he will turn up soon. Ask the chef +to prepare us a <i>poulet en casserole</i>. That will +give the wanderer twenty minutes’ grace.”</p> + +<p>Jules, an acute observer of men, eyed his +young patron covertly.</p> + +<p>“You don’d look ver’ well,” he hinted. “Let +me bring you a leetle pick-you-up—<i>un fortifiant</i>—shall +it be a vermouth and Angostura?”</p> + +<p>“It shall not,” said Karl, a smile chasing the +weariness from his face. “Don’t worry about +me, Jules. I am neither bull nor bear, backer +nor layer. Nor has my best girl proved fickle. +What I really do lack is that chicken.”</p> + +<p>Jules did not understand. But he knew that +the trouble, whatever it was, was not to be +removed by the revivers of general acceptance.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span>Left to himself, Karl’s thoughts began to +wander. He asked himself how Hooper and I +were speeding on our missions, because, by this +time, he knew what Frank was doing. It is no +matter for surprise that he followed me rather +than the American in his musings. He was +aware of that which I only suspected—that +Maggie had deliberately shut him out from the +sanctity of her presence until her edict was +burnt up in the electric ardor of the new conditions +set in motion by Karl’s proposed marriage +to Nora and the mere suggestion of her own +union with the Italian.</p> + +<p>Still fully alive to that ever-growing strain, +which, of course, was caused by the opposing +influence Hooper and I were establishing, he +strove to keep his faculties within bounds. He +shut his spiritual eyes, guarded his ears against +the far-off sounds which might have troubled +them, and endeavored to take a passive interest +in the other people in the restaurant.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding his marvelous self-control, +he was restless. He wished Hooper would return +and put an end to the suspense by his +agreeable rattle. He strove to eat some of the +tempting <i>hors d’œuvres</i> set before him, but, like +any sick child, he fancied he could touch nothing +except the dish he had ordered, and it seemed +to be unreasonably long in the cooking.</p> + +<p>Then he looked at his watch, Constantine’s +gift, and, after noting the hour, 8.40 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, he +idly read the inscription inside the gold cover. +By a queer trick of memory, his mind went +back to the starlit sky and the black waters of +the Bay of Bengal. He heard again the plash +of the oars, saw the Armenian clinging to the +buoy and plunging frantically, and renewed his +childish awe at the long rows of shining lights +in the ship’s hull and the way in which her +huge, dark bulk towered above the tiny boat +when the sailors pulled alongside.</p> + +<p>Then the black mass seemed to topple over +on to him, there was a blaze of vivid light, and +Karl lost consciousness.</p> + +<p>What had happened was this. Steindal, +vengeful as an infuriated ape, entered the restaurant +just as Karl opened his watch. His +dark eyes contracted and darted a lambent glare +at the stalwart figure seated, as it transpired, at +the very table where the Jew had indulged in +his antics a few nights earlier. There came to +him the maddening knowledge that many of +those present exchanged nods, and winks, and +inaudible asides, the moment he appeared. It +may be that some subtle influence, some weakened +inductive current, leaped out at him without +Karl being either responsible for or aware of its +action. The exact motive will never be known,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span> +but its result was lamentably evident. Steindal +snatched a full bottle of champagne from the +ice-pail in which it rested beside a neighboring +table, and dealt Karl a murderous blow with it +on the back of the head.</p> + +<p>Maggie, who actually saw and heard what +took place, gave a far clearer account of it than +the horrified witnesses in the restaurant.</p> + +<p>“Steindal’s face assumed a demoniacal expression,” +she said, when, long afterwards, she was +able to speak calmly of the unnerving spectacle. +“I have read of the lust of murder, but I never +knew what it meant until I saw his black eyes +emitting a dull, red light, and his lips parting +with an animal snarl. He leaped forward at +Karl in a peculiar way. He seemed to bring +down the bottle with an awful force just as his +feet touched the ground. The bottle burst, and +its fragments flew on all sides, some of the bits +of glass cutting Steindal’s forehead. With an +activity I would not have credited in a man of +his corpulence, and which he certainly did not +exhibit in his normal life, he turned and ran +out of the room, upsetting two tables and some +chairs, and disappearing through a narrow doorway. +Some gentlemen rushed after him, and +others helped to raise Karl, who had fallen as +one dead headlong on the table. I cannot say +why it is, but my last sight of Steindal, bounding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span> +across the floor in the effort to escape, reminded +me of that dreadful orang-outang described by +Edgar Allan Poe in the ‘Murders of the Rue +Morgue.’”</p> + +<p>Nora Cazenove knew nothing of this. She +was only acutely aware of the snapping of the +invisible link which held her fast. Hence, it is +easy enough to understand the different cries of +horror and bewilderment with which each girl +announced her dread discovery.</p> + +<p>A policeman, strolling past the Pall Mall exit +from the hotel through which Steindal gained +the street, supplied a succinct narrative of subsequent +events so far as the would-be murderer +was concerned. At the kerb was standing an +empty hansom, the driver of which was fastening +the nose-bag on its accustomed hook beneath +the “dicky.” Steindal sprang into the vehicle, +leaned over the splash-board, seized the reins +and shook the horse into a fast gallop.</p> + +<p>The animal, a Londoner by adoption, was +accustomed to this frenzied leap into activity +when a whistling fare was to be secured from a +rival. Being a careless beast, it kept on the +right side of the road, which, in England, is the +wrong side, and after a brief career in comparative +safety, encountered a heavy ’bus crunching +round the corner from Waterloo Place.</p> + +<p>Steindal, yelling hysterically in Spanish (he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span> +went back to his Mexican mother’s tongue, you +see, when the lightning struck him), urged the +horse to charge the oncoming Colossus. But +the horse knew better than that, and swerved +into the open space in front of the Duke of +York’s column. The unoccupied square was +traversed at full speed. Ere the steed, far wiser +than the man, could check his wild progress, he +was flying down the long flight of steps into +St. James’s Park.</p> + +<p>Most happily, the Jew’s lunacy involved no +further tragedy. At that particular hour, even +on a summer night, central London is fairly +empty. Therefore, the few privileged spectators +of this unparalleled feat by a horse, cab, and +man, saw the mad descent and heard Steindal’s +incoherent shrieks without being called on to +tend some other unhappy sufferer from the +escapade.</p> + +<p>The horse, thoroughly frightened now, lost +his coolness when the level ground was reached +once more. He dashed on blindly, caught the +vehicle against a tree, and the policemen and +startled passers-by who then came on the scene +extricated the insensible Jew from the ruins of +the cab. He had been badly injured by the +plunging hoofs, and fully six months elapsed +before he was restored to health and Paris. In +that time a great many things had happened.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span> +Steindal thenceforth passed out of Karl’s life. +No action was taken against him for the attempted +murder. The mad act was attributed +to sudden mania, but he was warned that he +must avoid England in future, if he would not +undergo the <i>peine forte et dure</i>.</p> + +<p>Hooper was the first to restore order out of +chaos. The manner in which he rushed Nora +Cazenove out of the box and into her own +brougham astonished the opera-goers and made +the “front of the house” gasp.</p> + +<p>Did he take her to Sandilands’ House? If +ever you meet him, ask him, and you will hear +an expressive Americanism.</p> + +<p>Somewhat unjustly, he rated Nora all the way +from Covent Garden to the hotel. His indignation +was pardonable. Karl was his friend, and +Nora he had seen for the first time half an hour +earlier. If Karl were really dead, Hooper held +that Nora’s unreasonable passion was the chief +cause of his death. Perchance, the masterful +spirit he showed during that turbulent drive +went a long way towards taming the impulsive +nature of a very lovable and beautiful woman, +for, queer whirligig of a world that it is, Nora +is now Mrs. Hooper, and a very dear friend, +indeed, of Maggie’s. Don’t imagine, for an +instant, that Frank smirched the fair fame of all +American husbands by “bossing” his charming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span> +wife. Next to Karl, and myself, he is a model +Benedict.</p> + +<p>Well, the anguish of that night in Como has +long passed away, so I will not attempt to harrow +your feelings by describing the heart-broken +grief of Maggie, the scarcely less frenzied anxiety +of her mother, the turmoil and worry and wild +guessing at eventualities which racked us during +three weary hours. When Steindal vanished +from the restaurant so did Maggie’s perceptiveness +fade away. She strove, with a fierce longing, +to follow the little <i>cortège</i> which carried +Karl up-stairs. It was useless. The veil had +fallen. She moved and spoke with the hopeless +air of a woman beaten to her knees. I think +she was overborne by the experiences of that +trying period. Had Karl died, I am sure she +would not have survived him long.</p> + +<p>I quitted the castle at ten o’clock. Some +English-speaking servant told the vetturino to +drive slowly. Yet, an hour later, I needed his +daring, because a lame horse brought me back +all too slowly to show Maggie a second telegram +from Hooper:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Karl lives. Doctors predict recovery.”</p> +</div> + +<p>By some miracle it reached me that night. Be +sure I pounded hard on the lion’s head knocker +of the Castello Rondo to convey the glad news.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span>Other messages to hand in the morning rescued +our journey to London from the misery +which must have attended it otherwise. The +Italian count saw us off from Como. I did not +grudge him that happiness. It was his parting +glimpse of his divinity—and her fortune.</p> + +<p>Slow as the mail train seemed to us in its +scurry through Italy, Switzerland, and France, +we passed many a weary hour in England before +Karl recovered his five senses, to say nothing of +the sixth. During four days he lay prone at +the gate of death, his breathing slow, labored, +and stertorous, the pupils of his eyes dilated +unequally.</p> + +<p>But splendid surgery saved him. The injury +was so serious that a prompt operation, carried +out before his parents were even aware of his +condition, alone pulled him back from the void. +Steindal’s blow, delivered on the side rather than +the back of the head, caused a depressed fracture +of the skull, a tiny bit of bone being driven into +the temporo-sphenoidal lobe. The resultant +concussion, too, passed rapidly into a compression +of the brain arising from effusion of blood. +It was the breaking of the bottle which delivered +Karl from instant death. Had such a heavy +implement retained its solidity, the shock must +necessarily have been fatal.</p> + +<p>The expert surgeon who carried out the requisite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span> +trephining gave me these details after one +of his visits. Karl was yet unconscious, and +this was the fourth morning after the attack!</p> + +<p>Maggie, frail ghost, waylaid us in the corridor.</p> + +<p>“Doctor,” she whispered, “may I see him?”</p> + +<p>Medical men are telegnomists in their way. +He had noticed her on the previous day, soon +after our arrival, in fact, and his professional +eye was attracted by her ethereal beauty.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said. “That will do no harm. +But you must promise to keep quiet.”</p> + +<p>“I promise,” she answered.</p> + +<p>He led her to the room where Karl lay, +tended by hospital nurses. None hindered, +so I went with them. Maggie was braver +than I thought. She moved noiselessly to +the head of the bed and stooped over the recumbent +form. Karl was restless, almost fretful. +The light was dim, yet I distinctly caught +the unspoken question on Maggie’s lips as she +turned and looked at the surgeon. He nodded.</p> + +<p>She bent and kissed Karl lightly on the +forehead, where the bandages left a little space. +Then she murmured, ever so tenderly:—</p> + +<p>“Karl, <i>mera piyárá</i>, I am here!”</p> + +<p>What heaven-sent inspiration moved that +“maiden with the meek, brown eyes” to utter +those Persian words of endearment? Many +a year had passed since Karl and she spoke<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span> +Hindustáni to each other. She had almost +forgotten the language, yet the first gush of +impulse renewed the fount, and here was she +calling him her sweetheart as she was wont +to do in the lisping childhood of far-away +Darjeeling.</p> + +<p>The doctor told me that it was coincidence—blessed +explanation!—that consciousness frequently +returned on the fourth day in such +cases—but, however it may be, Karl looked +up at Maggie in the most natural way and said +quite rationally:</p> + +<p>“I thought you would come, dear. Don’t +leave me again.”</p> + +<p>He <i>thought</i> she would come! And when +had he done the thinking? Oh, that wonderful, +misunderstood brain of ours! How little do +we appreciate its awful mystery!</p> + +<p>Were I writing a mere novel I would, of +course, dwell on the joys of convalescence—describe +in touching phrase the quiet content +of those two turtle doves, when one might sit +and read the other bits of news of the outer +world, pausing ever and anon to ask, with the +love-light in her glance, if he was sure she was +not tiring him. What between Mrs. Grier, +and Maggie, and two of those human angels +who wore the uniform of some great hospital, +never was man so waited on. Plenty of good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span> +fellows of my acquaintance have come a cropper +at polo, scrunching their craniums on a maidán +hard as iron, without a quarter so much fuss +being made over them. Yet, seeing that I +embarked on a semi-scientific voyage with the +pen, so must I end my quest in similar strain. +The surgeon who described Karl’s injuries so +lucidly became curious as to the meaning of +certain hints dropped by Hooper and myself, +more especially when he chanced to hear the +elder Grier denouncing telegnomy and all its arts.</p> + +<p>Gradually, feeling my way with the wariness +of a mole, I led him along the underground +paths of the sixth sense so far as I could track +them. He listened with increased interest. +Ultimately, he asked me to introduce him +to Sir William Macpherson. They discussed +learnedly for a long time, and they agreed, at +last, in a mild definition:</p> + +<p>“The upper temporo-sphenoidal lobe contains +the cortical auditory center,” they said. +“The functions of the middle and lower lobes +are not definitely ascertained. Karl Grier is +stated to have exhibited abnormal manifestations +of unrecognized cerebral activities, and, +as these seem to have ceased since he received +the blow, it is advisable to point out that the +resultant fracture of the skull caused a lesion +of the two lobes in question.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span>They would go no further than that in writing. +But they went a long way further in +speech, and, if any encouragement on the part +of those eminent specialists could have induced +Karl to recover his lost faculties, that encouragement +was certainly forthcoming.</p> + +<p>He has unhesitatingly declined to attempt +any such thing. He is happy in his wife, his +children, and his surroundings, and he is not +willing to tempt the fates again. He has +admitted to me that he is still aware of tidal +influence (which, be it remembered, affects +the solid earth as well as the unstable water), +and he believes he has the power, if he chose +to exert it, of seeing and hearing far more of +other people’s business than he desires to +know.</p> + +<p>But he refuses to face the unknown again. +He carried the experiment far beyond the +bounds of present scientific investigation. I +have described some part of the inquiry and +its outcome. Both of us are content to allow +others to take up the threads of knowledge +where they have fallen from our hands.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76603 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + |