Initial commit of ebook 77879 filesHEADmain

1 files changed, 11458 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/77879-0.txt b/77879-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8d4e50
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77879-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11458 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77879 ***
+
+
+
+
+                                  THE
+                         BARGE OF HAUNTED LIVES
+
+
+
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+
+                          THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+                  NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS
+                         ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO
+
+                        MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
+                       LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
+                                MELBOURNE
+
+                    THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
+                                 TORONTO
+
+
+
+
+                                   THE
+                         BARGE OF HAUNTED LIVES
+
+                                   BY
+
+                             J. AUBREY TYSON
+
+                     AUTHOR OF “THE SCARLET TANAGER”
+
+                                New York
+                          THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+                                  1923
+                          _All rights reserved_
+
+
+
+
+                 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+                            COPYRIGHT, 1923,
+                        BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
+
+                Set up and Electrotyped. Published, 1923.
+
+                         FERRIS PRINTING COMPANY
+                                NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                              PAGE
+
+  I.    A SALT MARSH ADVENTURE            3
+
+  II.   AT DESTINY’S CROSSROADS          18
+
+  III.  THE MYSTERY OF A DERELICT        35
+
+  IV.   THE SHADOW OF NEMESIS            68
+
+  V.    THE EYES OF RAJIID              112
+
+  VI.   A WANDERER FROM ARABY           171
+
+  VII.  THE IMAGE OF GOD                244
+
+  VIII. ON DESERT SANDS                 260
+
+  IX.   THE QUEST OF THE BEAUTIFUL      271
+
+  X.    AT THE END OF A TRAIL           292
+
+  XI.   “WHAT DREAMS MAY COME?”         306
+
+  XII.   THE DRAINED GLASS              329
+
+         TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
+
+
+
+
+                       THE BARGE OF HAUNTED LIVES
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+
+                         A SALT MARSH ADVENTURE
+
+
+For more than two hours, a solitary hunter, crouching in a reed-covered
+sneak-boat that was drawn close to a muddy bank topped with coarse,
+yellow grass, had been gazing moodily skyward or across the broad
+expanse of gloomy marshes to the north of Great South Bay. Near him
+a score of gray and black decoy ducks bobbed lightly on the chill,
+drab waters of a wide creek, but their complacent attitudes thus far
+had failed to inspire among vagrant wildfowl any desire to seek their
+companionship.
+
+The hunter was a thick-set, sullen-looking man, with a broad,
+clean-shaven face and thick, curly gray hair. He had only one eye--a
+greenish-yellow, searching left eye which often produced uncanny
+effects on persons on whom it gazed. For five years it had been this
+man’s wont to go down to Sellersville on the first day of November.
+There he was known to Captain Peters, the boathouse-keeper, as Colonel
+Canbeck. From Peters he hired a little sloop, with a rusty motor that
+was barely powerful enough to drive the craft up and down the tidal
+creeks, which, flowing through the monotonous expanse of salt meadows,
+empty into Great South Bay.
+
+The sloop had a closed cabin in which were a couple of bunks, a folding
+table, several lockers and a stove. Canbeck’s shooting trips lasted
+one week, and he always went on them alone, seldom getting more than
+ten or twelve miles from the Peters boathouse. Upon arriving at the
+shooting grounds, he would anchor the sloop, and for two or three days
+at a time the little craft would remain at the same anchorage. Leaving
+the sloop alone, Canbeck would paddle off in a sneak-boat, sometimes
+a mile or two distant, and, after floating his decoys, he would sit
+motionless for hours, within his screen of reeds, except when, fortune
+favoring him, he was engaged in bringing down and gathering in such
+wildfowl as exposed themselves to his unerring aim.
+
+It was now a few minutes after four o’clock, and the gray sky and
+lapping waters were growing more chill and dark. It was Canbeck’s first
+day out this season, and since ten o’clock in the morning his gun had
+been silent. With an exclamation of disgust, he deposited it in the
+bottom of the boat and began preparations for his return to the sloop.
+
+As the duckhunter, with reluctant hands, began to draw in one of
+the strings to which his floating decoys were attached, he swept a
+last questioning glance around him. Suddenly the expression of bored
+resignation on his features gave place to one of mild interest.
+Faintly, at first, but soon more distinctly, he heard the distant drone
+of an airplane. For several moments his attempts to locate the plane
+were vain; then he saw it--a small, black blot on the western sky.
+Uncertain concerning the course it was taking, Canbeck reflected that
+it probably was one of the machines attached to the Mineola flying
+field and now was returning to its base.
+
+But, as the drone became more viciously assertive, Canbeck observed
+that the great, man-made hawk was speeding eastward, leaving Mineola
+further and further behind it, following a course which would take
+it directly over his head. As it drew nearer, however, it veered
+suddenly, and Canbeck saw it was a seaplane, flying at a height of
+about six hundred feet above creeks and meadows. Immediately after it
+veered, it circled toward the west and mounted higher. After proceeding
+about a mile in that direction, it turned again and headed eastward,
+gliding lightly and gracefully downward, in the manner of an albatross
+as it sinks to the surface of the sea.
+
+As the high, muddy bank of the creek hid from his view the final stage
+of the seaplane’s descent, Canbeck fell to speculating on the purpose
+of the airman in bringing down his craft at such a time and place.
+The creek in which he had spent the day emptied into the bay at a
+point scarcely more than two hundred yards from where he now sat in
+his sneak-boat, and it was apparent that it was just beyond the mouth
+of the creek that the flying-boat had come to water. But from that
+direction there now came no sound.
+
+The impulse to seek some point from which the movements of the seaplane
+might be viewed was so slight that Canbeck quickly smothered it.
+He lighted his pipe, smoked reflectively for several minutes, then
+addressed himself to the task of taking in his decoys. He was thus
+engaged when a succession of clattering, explosive sounds, near the
+mouth of the creek, indicated that the motors of the seaplane again
+were in action.
+
+Nearly three minutes passed, however, before the flying-boat became
+visible to the eyes of the watching duckhunter. Now, once more clear of
+the bay, it was headed seaward. Higher and higher it mounted toward the
+darkening sky, then, turning, it took a westerly course.
+
+Canbeck still was watching the retreating plane when his attention was
+attracted by the quacking of frightened ducks. He promptly crouched,
+picked up his gun and raised its muzzle. A few moments later he
+discharged both barrels and three ducks, out of a flock of a dozen,
+dropped into the stream. He was preparing to paddle out to gather in
+the dead wildfowl when a quiet voice near him caused him to start and
+turn abruptly.
+
+“I beg your pardon, but will you tell me whether it will be possible
+for me to get to a railway station to-night?”
+
+The soft, well-modulated voice was that of a woman, who stood on the
+bank near the sneak-boat. The duckhunter, frowning, looked at the
+speaker with astonishment. Habitually morose, he had as little liking
+for women as they had for him, but in the aspect of this one there was
+something that fairly startled him. Had he seen her in a ballroom,
+in the lobby of a hotel, behind the footlights of a stage or on the
+deck of a transatlantic liner, she would have held his gaze for a few
+moments, then he would have passed on, phlegmatically admitting to
+himself that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but
+would have given no more thought to her.
+
+In this environment, however, the rare beauty of this stranger affected
+him strangely, and the thrill that passed through him was of the sort
+that may come to a man in the presence of the supernatural. He promptly
+combated and conquered the awe with which she inspired him, but he
+never could have described her. More soberly appraising her, Canbeck
+saw the speaker was young, rather above the average height of her sex,
+with a straight, admirably proportioned figure, a matchless complexion,
+black hair and dark eyes that had the lustre of moonlighted waters. Her
+hair was disordered, however, and her gray Tam-o’-Shanter was a little
+askew. She wore a neatly fitting tailor-made gown of heavy gray cloth,
+and the protection afforded by the jacket of this was supplemented by a
+plaid golf cape. Her stockings and high shoes were spattered with mud.
+
+For several moments the duckhunter stared vacantly at the young woman
+who had hailed him. She repeated her question:
+
+“Can you tell me if it will be possible for me to get to a railway
+to-night?”
+
+“How, in Heaven’s name, did you get out here?” Canbeck demanded.
+
+“I came in the seaplane,” the young woman replied, and now there was a
+note of sharpness in her voice.
+
+The duckhunter, turning deliberately, gazed thoughtfully toward where
+the flying-boat appeared to be scarcely larger than an eagle in the
+distance.
+
+“The devil you did!” he muttered; then, in a louder voice, he asked:
+“Why did it leave you in such a place as this?”
+
+“Frankly, I do not know. I was compelled to alight, however.”
+
+“Compelled!” Canbeck exclaimed. “Am I to understand that you were left
+here against your will?”
+
+“It is scarcely such a place as a woman would select to pass the
+night,” the fair stranger retorted, curtly.
+
+“You are right,” the duckhunter assented. “But how did it happen that--”
+
+“Pardon me if I remind you that I was the first to ask a question and
+that it still is unanswered,” interrupted the young woman, with some
+severity. “Will it be possible for me to get to a railway station at
+which I can get a train for New York to-night?”
+
+“I am very much afraid it will not be possible, madame,” Canbeck
+replied, with rather more politeness in his manner than had been
+apparent before. “It already is getting dark and the tide is ebbing.
+The nearest railway station is at Sellersville, which, in a direct
+line, is seven miles from here, but between the village and this spot
+are several creeks, so the meadows cannot be crossed on foot. In order
+to get there by my sloop we would have to leave this creek, go out
+into the bay and enter a long, winding creek which only a native can
+navigate after nightfall--a distance of about eleven miles. I am not a
+Long Islander and so am not competent to undertake the task.”
+
+The expression of distrust that had settled on the young woman’s
+features gradually disappeared while the duckhunter was speaking. There
+was something in the aspect and voice of the speaker which encouraged
+the fair aeronaut in the belief that he was a man who could be trusted.
+When she first had met the gaze of that single eye she had been
+conscious of a feeling of creepiness and suddenly awakened fear. But,
+as Canbeck spoke, he looked away from her. His voice was deep, clear
+and deliberate, and, despite his rough garb, there was something in the
+man that bespoke a certain degree of refinement. Being a young woman of
+quick perception, the fair stranger also recognized the fact that this
+man’s spirit of chivalry was rather more perfunctory than earnest--in
+short, that his aid would be offered as a result of a sense of duty
+rather than a sense of pleasure. She was only twenty-two and he was
+well past fifty, but she involuntarily straightened her Tam-o’-Shanter
+and glanced ruefully at the mud on her skirt and cape.
+
+“Is that the boat to which you refer?” she asked, as Canbeck paused.
+
+“Oh, bless you, no! This is only a sneaker. The boat I speak of is
+that little sloop over yonder. There’s a cabin on her, with a couple
+of bunks and a stove. The centerboard trunk divides the cabin, and
+a piece of tarpaulin will make a couple of rooms of it, with a bunk
+in each. I can get a hot supper, if you like, and you can turn in
+afterward on your side of the tarpaulin and centerboard. As soon as the
+sun is up I’ll get you to Sellersville.”
+
+An expression of vexation settled on the young woman’s face and she
+compressed her lips slightly.
+
+“You have nothing to do, then, with the canal-boat?” she asked.
+
+“With the canal-boat!” Canbeck repeated wonderingly.
+
+“Yes--it is a canal-boat, isn’t it? Or is it a barge?”
+
+“I am afraid I do not understand you,” replied the duckhunter.
+
+The young woman frowned impatiently.
+
+“I mean the boat that is lying in the other creek,” she said.
+
+“I did not know that there was a boat of any kind in the other creek,”
+Canbeck explained.
+
+Once more the young woman was looking at him searchingly, and, as she
+looked, distrust again entered her eyes.
+
+“How long have you been here--here in this creek?” she asked.
+
+“I entered it from the bay about seven o’clock this morning, but I saw
+no boat in the other creek.”
+
+She looked over her shoulder.
+
+“True,” she said, “one cannot see it from here. It does not show above
+the bank and the meadow grass. There is a canal-boat there, however,
+and, while I was in that miserable seaplane I saw smoke issuing from
+the stovepipe on the roof of the deckhouse.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed the duckhunter, and the expression of relief on his
+features was unmistakable. “Most canal-boats have the families of their
+captains on board, so we may be able to find a woman on this, and a
+woman doubtless can make you more comfortable than I can. We will see.”
+
+“You will go with me?”
+
+“Certainly--if you will permit me to do so. It is better, perhaps, that
+you should not go alone.”
+
+Canbeck drew in his decoys; then he paddled his boat to the bank.
+
+“Shall I take your gun?” the young woman asked, as the duckhunter
+prepared to disembark from his craft.
+
+“If you will, please.”
+
+The manner in which she took the weapon from his hand indicated that
+firearms were not strange to her.
+
+“The ducks you shot are drifting downstream,” she said, suggestively.
+
+“I can spare them. I did pretty well this morning.”
+
+Canbeck threw on the bank the big stone that did service as an anchor,
+then, taking his gun from the small, gloved hands that held it, he led
+the way over the spongy surface of the meadow toward the neighboring
+creek.
+
+As the young woman followed her conductor, she saw that his shoulders
+were broad and square and that his thick-set figure was singularly
+erect. Then, too, there was something in the precision of his steps
+that suggested that there had been a period in his life during which he
+had carried arms for purposes other than shooting ducks.
+
+“An army man, and probably a West Pointer,” she murmured.
+
+They had only about three hundred yards to go and the distance soon
+was covered. When they arrived at the creek, the duckhunter saw that
+the young woman had spoken truly. There was a long, broad, black barge
+lying beside the bank of the creek--a creek scarcely more than three
+times the width of the boat itself. From the stovepipe on the roof of
+the deckhouse a thin cloud of smoke was issuing.
+
+The port rail of the boat was against, and some three feet below, the
+bank. The duckhunter stepped aboard, and, grasping a rough wooden
+stool, he placed it in such a position that his companion could step on
+it from the bank above. This done, he extended her a hand and helped
+her aboard.
+
+Without speaking, Canbeck led the way to the door of the deckhouse at
+the stern. This was closed, and he knocked. To the knock there was no
+reply. Canbeck grasped the knob and thrust the door open cautiously.
+
+The duckhunter now found himself in a dingy, unpainted cabin which was
+manifestly a storeroom. It was about twelve feet wide and fourteen
+long, and was filled with barrels and wooden cases which, it was
+plain, contained provisions. At the forward end appeared the head of a
+companionway. To the left, rising from the floor to the roof, was the
+pipe whose top had been seen from without.
+
+“Queer barge--this!” he muttered. “They are doing their cooking below.”
+
+He drew a thick, stubby wooden pipe from his pocket and with this
+he rapped sharply several times on the door at the foot of the
+companionway. This summons also failed to elicit an answer. Finding
+that this door, too, was unlocked, Canbeck pushed it open. The fair
+aeronaut, standing on the steps behind him, saw him stop suddenly as an
+exclamation of amazement fell from his lips.
+
+From the half-open door came a flood of mellow light and an odor which
+was suggestive of that which permeates the atmosphere of cathedrals
+after the celebration of a mass--the odor which emanates from swinging
+censers borne by priests.
+
+“You had better wait there,” said the duckhunter in a low voice, as,
+moving back a step, he glanced over his shoulder at his companion.
+
+But the aeronaut was a woman, and so it came to pass that when the
+duckhunter, having entered the apartment, heard the door close behind
+him with a soft click, he found his companion was beside him.
+
+“Why did you not stay outside?” the duckhunter demanded sharply.
+
+The young woman, looking around her with wide, staring eyes, gave no
+heed to his question.
+
+“In the name of all that is wonderful--” she began.
+
+With a shrug of impatience, the duckhunter turned to the door and
+grasped the knob.
+
+“They’ve locked us in!” he muttered.
+
+She heard him now.
+
+“Locked us in!” she exclaimed with sudden apprehension. “Who do you
+mean by ‘they’?”
+
+“How should I know? But come--let’s get away from this door.”
+
+Grasping the young woman roughly by one of her arms, Canbeck led her a
+few paces to the left.
+
+“Keep your back to this wall and your eyes on the curtains at the other
+end of the room,” he cautioned in a low voice.
+
+The first part of his advice she heeded, the second she ignored, for
+the spectacle which now offered itself to her view was so extraordinary
+that her curiosity exceeded her fears.
+
+The apartment was about thirty-five feet in length, twenty in breadth
+and ten in height. The walls were covered with rich crimson damask
+and those on the sides were pierced by niches of polished black
+wood--there being twelve niches in all. In each niche was a statue
+wrought in gleaming white marble. Though these statues represented
+different subjects, all possessed two remarkable features in common.
+Each represented a human figure, which, like many of the sculptures
+of Auguste Rodin, was only partly hewn from the rough block. In no
+instance, however, was the face of the statue revealed, each being
+hidden in a manner that differed from the others. The features of one
+female figure were covered with the hands, while those of a second were
+obscured by a veil. The form of a tense-muscled man appeared to be
+struggling to free itself from the rough block from which it was hewn
+with great perfection of detail, but the head, thrown backward, was
+still a part of the block and only a few outlines of the face were even
+faintly perceptible. Other faces were hidden by falling, dishevelled
+hair, behind masks or within the closed visors of helmets.
+
+At the further end of the apartment was a broad doorway which was
+approached by three wide, carpet-covered steps. On each side of
+these steps, on a low pedestal, was a full suit of armor. Each right
+gauntlet grasped an upright lance and the raised visors of the helmets
+revealed the hideous faces of grinning skulls. In the doorway hung a
+pair of heavy velvet curtains of the same color as the damask-covered
+walls, and, on each side of the doorway, niches in the wall held large
+Etruscan vases. The apartment was lighted by numerous candelabra set in
+the walls between the niches.
+
+The floor was covered with a large Oriental rug of which the prevailing
+colors were red, black and yellow. The carved ceiling was black, with
+a curious mosaic centerpiece from which depended a heavy bronze chain
+that sustained a large and elaborately wrought lamp of Arabesque
+design. The lamp hung over the center of a table about ten feet long
+and six feet wide--a table with appointments scarcely less remarkable
+than the room in which it had a place. A snowy cloth, hanging low over
+the sides and ends of this concealed its wood and carvings, but on the
+cloth were crystal and gold and silverware befitting a feast of royalty.
+
+The table was laid for ten persons, there being four chairs at each
+side and one at each end. The chairs were of carved ebony, with arms,
+the seats and backs being covered with heavy Japanese brocade of black
+and gold. Other chairs of similar design stood against the wall, as did
+also several ottomans that were covered with costly skins and rugs.
+
+As the duckhunter, still grasping his fowling-piece and looking
+around him, moved forward a couple of paces, he saw an upright
+sarcophagus, with the cover removed. Within the sarcophagus was the
+gilded cartonnage of a mummy, and the face painted on this was the
+only representation of normal human features among the figures in the
+room. The sarcophagus stood midway between two doors--one of these
+being the door through which Canbeck and his companion had entered. The
+duckhunter inferred that the second door communicated with the room
+containing the stove from which rose the pipe that passed through the
+deckhouse to its roof.
+
+“What does it all mean?” asked the young woman, in a voice that was
+scarcely louder than a whisper.
+
+“It may mean much or little,” the duckhunter muttered. “No one but a
+lunatic would fit up a barge like this and have it towed out here. If
+there is only one of his class aboard we probably shall have little
+difficulty in getting out, but--well, the table is laid for ten.”
+
+The young woman, gazing around her with wondering eyes, murmured:
+
+“It looks like some of those strange places--those cabarets in
+Montmartre, in Paris--the Chat Noir, the House of Death and----”
+
+“It will look many other things as well if I am compelled to let these
+two barrels go,” growled the duckhunter, as, passing a hand under his
+coat, he reached for a couple of “Double B” shells.
+
+The words were scarcely spoken, however, when Canbeck and the young
+woman started suddenly.
+
+From the other end of the room came the sound of a low, chuckling
+laugh. The curtains in the doorway shook for a moment, then they were
+slowly thrust aside and the figure of a tall man in evening dress
+appeared between them.
+
+The hair of the newcomer was white, but his dark-skinned, clean-shaven
+face was devoid of wrinkles, and his gray eyes were as clear and
+shining as those of a youth. His head was admirably shaped, but was
+scarcely as large as is usual in the case of men of such large stature.
+His limbs were long, and he stooped slightly, but there was a grace and
+courtliness in his bearing which indicated that he was as well endowed
+with drawing-room accomplishments as he was with physical strength. As
+he looked down now at the duckhunter, his thin lips were smiling. There
+was a mocking, penetrating and unfathomable expression in his gray eyes.
+
+“If you must shoot, my friend, let us have one barrel at a time,” he
+said.
+
+Thus speaking, he descended the three steps in front of the doorway.
+
+Canbeck and his companion fairly gasped for breath. The man who
+so suddenly had confronted them was a familiar figure on two
+continents--in fashionable clubs, in boxes at the opera, at race
+meetings, at public dinners and in the councils of princes of finance.
+Neither of the persons whom he now was approaching had met him, but
+his portrait had appeared so often in illustrated journals that his
+features were as familiar to schoolboys throughout the land as was the
+face of the nation’s President. In short, the newcomer was none other
+than Hewitt Westfall, the multimillionaire.
+
+Fixing his gaze on the duckhunter, Westfall, still smiling, added:
+
+“We had been expecting you to dinner, Colonel Canbeck. I was only
+awaiting the arrival of a boat, which should be here in a few minutes,
+in order to visit you and ask you to join our party this evening. But,
+thanks to the appearance of the seaplane and your gallantry, such a
+visit has been made unnecessary.”
+
+Frowning slightly, Canbeck regarded the speaker searchingly.
+
+“You were expecting me to dinner--here--to-day?” he exclaimed
+incredulously.
+
+“Yes,” replied the millionaire, easily. “And the fact that you come as
+escort to our guest of honor makes you doubly welcome.”
+
+Nodding genially, Westfall now turned to Canbeck’s wondering companion.
+
+“Your highness----” he began.
+
+The young woman started violently, and, as the color left her features,
+she gazed with widening, frightened eyes at the man who thus addressed
+her.
+
+“Highness!” she murmured in a low, trembling voice.
+
+As if oblivious of the consternation with which he had inspired her,
+Westfall approached, and, taking her hands, said gravely:
+
+“And now, your highness, permit an honored and appreciative
+host--Hewitt Westfall--to welcome the Princess Maranotti to the Barge
+of Haunted Lives, on which it will be his pleasure to present to you
+certain persons who have been victims of some of the most remarkable
+misadventures that ever have fallen to the lot of men. Most of these
+persons are unknown to you, and even they have yet to learn that their
+strange lives have taken color from your own.”
+
+A little cry of astonishment and pain escaped the young woman’s lips,
+and there was a wild look in her eyes as, withdrawing her hands from
+those of Westfall, she glanced furtively towards the door through which
+she had entered the apartment. Westfall gently laid a hand on one of
+her shoulders.
+
+“Have no fear, your highness,” he said kindly. “Among the persons of
+whom I have spoken there is none who willingly would cause you pain.
+All are here in an attempt to lead you from that spectre-peopled wood
+in which, for the last three years, you have been groping blindly. When
+we are done, you will have no reason to reproach me for the visit I
+have caused you to make to the Barge of Haunted Lives.”
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II
+
+                        AT DESTINY’S CROSSROADS
+
+
+“And what is the Barge of Haunted Lives?” asked the duckhunter, sharply.
+
+Westfall, looking thoughtfully at the floor, replied:
+
+“Well, Canbeck, it’s the product of a hobby--the hobby of one who,
+for many years, has found diversion in the study of the strange fates
+that befall mankind. It is a vessel as clumsy, ugly and as helpless on
+the waves as are the barks which bear most men on the stormy sea of
+Destiny. It is moved from place to place by a tugboat--one of those
+inconsequential craft, which, while unable to make long, stormy and
+romantic voyages themselves, often are in a position to lend helping
+hands to great vessels which can do these things if they only get into
+proper channels. The tug gets them there, and, in this respect, I am a
+great deal like the tug. When I find a brother craft, enveloped in a
+fog and drifting toward the reef of error, I throw him a line and tow
+him out. But I am no hypocrite, so I will confess that only a certain
+class of sufferers finds it possible to excite my interest--the class
+which consists of men and women of haunted lives.”
+
+“Ah, I see,” exclaimed the duckhunter, moodily. “You find diversion in
+the unravelling of other men’s mysteries.”
+
+“No. I simply afford them certain facilities for unravelling such
+mysteries themselves.”
+
+“It’s a queer sort of place you give to them in which to do it,”
+growled the duckhunter, looking around dubiously.
+
+Westfall laughed quietly.
+
+“It suffices,” he said, resignedly. “And, after all, it is doubtful
+whether a more appropriate scene for such endeavors may be found.
+Everything you see around you came here as a result of tales that have
+been told beneath this roof.”
+
+“Those statues without faces?” queried the duckhunter.
+
+“Everything. I first saw this barge when I was summoned to it one night
+to bid a last farewell to a man who, years before, had been one of my
+most intimate friends. In consequence of an unfortunate act, he became
+a fugitive--a pariah. When I reached his side he was dying--the worst
+example of a haunted life I have ever known. In respect to his memory I
+bought the barge and fitted it up as a place of refuge for persons who
+might be fleeing from ghosts of their misdeeds or misfortunes. It has
+had many interesting visitors, I assure you.”
+
+His eyes had wandered to the aeronaut again, and, pausing in his
+speech, he continued to gaze at her thoughtfully. Then, rousing himself
+suddenly, he laid a hand on one of the shoulders of the duckhunter.
+
+“And so, my dear Canbeck, you don’t like my statues,” he said.
+
+The duckhunter shook his head.
+
+“I’m no judge of art, I’m afraid,” he answered surlily.
+
+“Well, some excellent judges have expressed rather favorable opinions
+on these same marbles,” Westfall replied. “I had them from the sculptor
+himself--a queer fellow, who was the victim of one of the strangest
+misfortunes I ever have known. During the last five years of his life,
+this man, who had attained many artistic triumphs before, dared not
+carve a human face. In every block of marble there was a face that
+haunted him, and, strive as he would, he could carve no other. It
+mattered not whether his model was man or woman, maiden or boy, the
+face that always haunted him invariably took form under his chisel. And
+so, at last, it came to pass that he carved only such statues as you
+see about you now.”
+
+“What became of him?” the matter-of-fact duckhunter asked.
+
+Westfall shrugged his shoulders slightly, and an enigmatical smile
+played for a moment on his lips.
+
+“It was from another guest of the Barge of Haunted Lives that I
+obtained the two skulls which you see in these suits of armor,” he
+went on. “The man was a Frenchman, and among his ancestors was one of
+those vandals who, during the French Revolution, entered the church of
+St. Denis and, opening the tombs of the old French kings, used royal
+bones as playthings for a while, and then threw them into a ditch.
+This ancestor preserved these skulls which, years before, had worn the
+crown of France. One is said to be that of Henry of Navarre, and the
+other that of Louis the XI. It was a strange fate that had awaited
+them all those years, was it not? Above one of these skulls fluttered
+the famous white plume that led the embattled Huguenots to victory at
+Ivry. In the other were evolved designs almost Napoleonic in their
+magnitude--designs that made France the greatest world power of that
+period, and also caused the French capital to become the centre of the
+intellectual life of Europe. The brain is gone, but the case belongs to
+me. The memories of those days at St. Denis so haunted the descendant
+of the vandal that, at last, in return for a small service, the last
+of the unhappy race gave the two deathheads to me.”
+
+The young woman was staring, with wide, horror-stricken eyes, at the
+deathheads.
+
+“But the armor--surely those suits did not belong--” Canbeck began.
+
+“No,” said Westfall, “they were not worn by kings. There was a skeleton
+in each when both were found walled up in a niche in an old English
+castle that was said to have been haunted. The suits belonged to the
+period of the fifth Henry.”
+
+The single, searching eye of the duckhunter was gazing now at the
+sarcophagus.
+
+“That,” said Westfall, “contains the body of the Princess Tushepu, of
+the Twentieth Dynasty, who died more than twelve hundred years before
+Christ. It and the rug--but, enough of this. You will be here for two
+or three days, and I will relate their stories when you have more
+leisure to listen to them.”
+
+“Two or three days!” exclaimed the duckhunter, scowling. “I’m afraid,
+sir----”
+
+“Possibly four,” added Westfall, thoughtfully.
+
+And now the fair aeronaut spoke.
+
+“You have said that it was your wish that I should meet at this table
+certain persons in whose history I am especially interested,” she said.
+“Might I ask you to tell me who these persons are?”
+
+“They are those with whom some of the most important events of your
+life are identified, your highness,” Westfall replied, respectfully.
+“Singularly enough, however, you have met only three of them before.”
+
+“But I must know the names of those three,” the young woman persisted,
+as the millionaire paused.
+
+“I beg of you to excuse me from revealing their names until you have
+seen them.”
+
+The young woman turned to the duckhunter.
+
+“Am I right in assuming that I am under your protection, Colonel
+Canbeck?” she asked.
+
+“Perfectly,” replied the duckhunter, composedly.
+
+“Then,” said the young woman, “I will ask you to take me from this
+boat.”
+
+The duckhunter turned to Westfall.
+
+“You have my reason, sir, for now wishing you good-night,” he said
+gravely.
+
+Westfall, taking out his watch, glanced at it and laughed quietly.
+
+“Not so fast--not so fast, Colonel,” he replied, easily. “If this lady
+suspected how intimately you are related to her history, and the part
+that you have played therein, you would be one of the last persons in
+the world to whom she would go for protection.”
+
+The face of the duckhunter grew pale with anger.
+
+“Do you mean, sir, that I am not to be trusted--that I----”
+
+“Oh, no, I do not mean that, but there is an episode in your life,
+which, being of the greatest importance to her, it is best for her to
+hear explained before she accepts any favor at your hands.”
+
+“You are talking like a madman,” exclaimed the duckhunter, angrily.
+“This lady and I never have met before, and there is nothing in my life
+that possibly could have any effect on hers, or in her life that could
+have affected mine. And, if there was, it would constitute no mystery
+that would be an appropriate subject for one of your busybody councils
+on this fool craft that you call the Barge of Haunted Lives.”
+
+“You are sure, then, that you are not in that category--in short, that
+the memory of no deed of yours has haunted you--that, when you sit out
+yonder watching for wildfowl, it never enters your thoughts?” asked
+Westfall.
+
+An ashen pallor overspread the face of the duckhunter, and there was an
+expression of apprehension in the eye that was turned to his questioner.
+
+“No--unless----” he faltered.
+
+Westfall nodded carelessly.
+
+“Yes--that’s it,” he said.
+
+With a low, half-smothered groan, Canbeck, still grasping his
+fowling-piece, turned toward the door.
+
+“Stop,” said the young woman, quietly.
+
+The duckhunter halted, and, as he hesitated, the fair aeronaut saw that
+his head was bowed and that there was a strange, dull glare in the eye
+which gazed at the floor.
+
+“You are fortunate, Colonel Canbeck, for it would seem that from your
+past there comes only one spectre to haunt you,” the young woman went
+on. “I am less favored, for I am the victim of many. For months I
+have been trying to evade them, but they follow me everywhere. Thus
+far, however, I have been able to identify all, but now Mr. Westfall,
+apparently interesting himself in my unfortunate history, seems to have
+found another one. Pray let him explain to us why it is that you and I,
+who have never met before, must regard each other as enemies.”
+
+“Come, come, let us all understand one another better,” said Westfall,
+with some impatience. “As you see, the table has been laid for ten. An
+hour hence eight men--including you, Canbeck--will sit down together.
+The ninth place, which, from the first, was intended for you, Madame,
+will remain vacant until the meal is finished. Then, you, madame,
+having been served elsewhere, and veiled in such a manner that you
+will not be recognized, will enter this room and take the seat reserved
+for you.
+
+“Of the men present I will be the only one who is not personally
+identified with your strange history, and among the others there are
+only two who have met before to-day. Your extraordinary misfortunes
+are known to me, and during the nights which these men will spend on
+this barge, each of them will tell a story. Some of these stories will
+be scarcely less wonderful than those said to have been related by
+Scheherezade to the Sultan of the Indies, but you will find that all
+their adventures have direct connection with your own.”
+
+“In this room I have heard many remarkable narratives and the analogy
+of some of them to the stories told by Scheherezade has led me to call
+them my American Nights Entertainments, but I may safely say that
+the series which will begin to-night promises to be by far the most
+wonderful of all, for a remarkable fatality seems to have invested with
+an almost independent interest all the persons who, either directly or
+indirectly, have had to do with those concerned with the mystery of the
+Rajiid Buddha.”
+
+The young woman gave utterance to a little cry, and exclaimed:
+
+“The Rajiid Buddha! In Heaven’s name is that the man--the man who----”
+
+She paused suddenly and darted a quick, searching glance toward Canbeck.
+
+“I know nothing of a Rajiid Buddha,” the duckhunter explained.
+
+“But you have been in India?” the young woman asked, with feverish
+haste.
+
+“Never, madame--never in my life,” the duckhunter answered gravely.
+
+“Colonel Canbeck knows even less of the Rajiid adventure than you do,
+madame,” Westfall explained.
+
+“But you--you do know something of it, then?” the fair aeronaut asked,
+and, as she spoke, her color came and went.
+
+“The narrative of that adventure is one of those which will be
+recounted to you, if you will consent to occupy the place which has
+been provided for you at the table to-night,” Westfall answered. “I
+can promise you that you will find the other narratives quite as
+interesting.”
+
+“I will stay,” the fair aeronaut murmured faintly.
+
+“And you, Colonel?” queried Westfall, addressing the duckhunter.
+
+“It is quite unnecessary,” said Canbeck in a low, uncertain voice.
+
+“On the contrary, the story that you have to tell is one of the most
+important of all, for, loth as you may be to tell it, its narration has
+much to do toward defining this lady’s future position in the world.
+You will, of course, exercise your own judgment in the matter. When,
+however, you have heard something of the history of the principals
+in this extraordinary affair, you will appreciate how much depends
+on a revelation of the facts which are in your possession. You will
+require no one then to urge you to speak. Until you make yourself known
+voluntarily, no one will suspect your secret, and I think I may assure
+you that, when you have told your story, the face that has haunted you
+will trouble you no more.”
+
+Canbeck shrugged his shoulders resignedly.
+
+“Well, have it so then,” he muttered. Then, after a pause, he added:
+“But, since you find it so easy to invite the confidence of others,
+perhaps you will not mind telling us how you found me out--how it comes
+to pass that this theatrical-looking barge of yours attracts to it so
+many men and women of haunted lives who are willing to tell you their
+troubles for your diversion.”
+
+“They do not come here until I send for them, my dear Colonel,”
+Westfall answered, calmly. “As I have told you, persons of this sort
+always have interested me, but of this interest they are not aware
+until I tell them of it. My hobby is known, however, to several
+noted alienists, wardens of penitentiaries, and to city and private
+detectives in this country and abroad. From these, from time to time,
+I receive reports of strange cases to which their attention has been
+directed. When one of these cases excites my interest, I get the
+principals down to the Barge of Haunted Lives and, after listening
+to their stories, I do all that lies within my power to aid the
+unfortunate narrators. In this manner the expenses incident to the
+clearing up of mysteries have constituted the price I pay for a form of
+diversion which harms no man who yields it to me. In these matters my
+curiosity is never idle, but I never betray confidence, even though the
+man from whom I win it is a hardened, death-deserving criminal.”
+
+“Humph!” Canbeck muttered. “Well, you’ve run me down, and that proves
+your ability so far as others are concerned, I suppose. But why have
+you had your barge towed away out here to this forsaken place?”
+
+“Owing to the number of my guests, and certain perils which threaten
+some of them, I thought it best to keep as well away from the city
+as possible while they should be aboard,” Westfall explained. “While
+I was still undecided as to where I should send the barge, I learned
+that you, one of the men I sought, had arranged to come down here on
+your annual visit to the shooting grounds. Accordingly, I had the
+barge towed in here last night. The tug that brought it was out of
+Great South Bay by dawn, so you did not see it when you came out from
+Sellersville this morning.”
+
+“Well, these shooting things are all I have to wear out here,” said
+Canbeck, apologetically.
+
+“More conventional garments await you in the room which has been
+appropriated to your use,” replied Westfall, laughingly.
+
+As he spoke, the millionaire crossed to one of the walls and pressed an
+electric button. In response to the summons a young man in brown livery
+appeared between the curtain under which Westfall had entered the room.
+
+“Driggs, take the Duckhunter to his quarters, and bid Harvette report
+to this lady,” said Westfall. Then turning to Canbeck, he added
+smilingly: “It is a custom on this barge to give no guest a name in the
+presence of others until such a time as it may please him to reveal
+it himself. For this reason, each bears a title that is suggested
+either by his story or some personal characteristic. Accordingly, while
+you are known as the Duckhunter, the identity of this lady will be
+protected by the sobriquet of the Veiled Aeronaut. Among the guests
+whom you will meet will be the Whispering Gentleman, the Nervous
+Physician, the Homicidal Professor and the Hypochondriacal Painter.
+Each you see is----”
+
+“And you tell me that the persons who have suggested these horrible
+designations have, unknown to me, played important parts in the
+miserable drama of my life?” demanded the aeronaut, breathlessly.
+
+“Yes,” Westfall replied, “and, since these appellations have alarmed
+you, perhaps it is better that I should not name the others, but I
+assure you that there is not one among them who bears you any ill will.”
+
+“Who is this Harvette you are sending to me?” asked the young woman,
+suspiciously.
+
+“A middle-aged Frenchwoman, who, being on the barge for such
+emergencies as this, will be wholly at your service, madame, while you
+are aboard.”
+
+Canbeck, following Driggs, the liveried servant, bowed gravely to the
+aeronaut and then disappeared behind the curtains. A few moments later
+a pleasant-faced, matronly woman, clad in black, appeared and led the
+young woman to a dainty little stateroom which was so well appointed
+that, despite her forebodings of evil, the visitor was conscious of a
+thrill of satisfaction. This, at least, was a happier fate than had
+been indicated while she was confronted by the prospect of a bunk in
+the Duckhunter’s disreputable-looking sloop.
+
+When Canbeck returned to the saloon in which he first had encountered
+Westfall, a marvellous change in his appearance had been effected.
+Shaved, attired in evening dress and with carefully brushed hair,
+he bore himself as easily as Westfall, and had the aspect of a
+well-groomed man of the world. But the gloom that had settled on his
+face nearly an hour before was not to be dissipated by the cheerful
+greeting of his host.
+
+“Well, Colonel, my yacht is in the bay, and one of her boats has just
+brought the other members of our company aboard the barge,” Westfall
+said. “They will be in presently, and dinner soon will be served.”
+
+Passing a hand nervously over his face, the Duckhunter nodded, but made
+no verbal reply.
+
+They had not long to wait, for soon the sounds of subdued voices were
+heard outside the curtains, and Canbeck’s single, greenish-yellow eye,
+became suggestive of a searchlight.
+
+“There will be no introductions,” said Westfall, speaking quietly. “I
+will indicate our friends as they come in, however.”
+
+Between the curtains there now appeared a figure that caused the
+Duckhunter, strong-nerved as he was, to stiffen suddenly and contract
+his brows. It was the figure of an admirably proportioned man, a little
+under six feet in height. He carried himself gracefully, but his face
+seemed to constitute a veritable caricature of human physiognomy.
+
+Though his head was well-shaped, his features were so strikingly
+demoniacal that it was impossible to look upon them without sensations
+of horror and fear. The lean, triangular face was partly covered by
+a close-cropped, double-pointed beard which, with a small moustache,
+failed to disguise the effects produced on the visage by a wide,
+high-cornered, pointed-lipped mouth, which, even in repose, constantly
+was expressive of sardonic humor. In singular contrast with this
+expression was one of suppressed pain which, burning in his large, dark
+eyes, seemed ever to belie the sinister and unearthly smile that was
+always present on his lips. Though this singular guest appeared to be
+no more than thirty or thirty-two years of age, his thick, rebellious
+black hair was well sprinkled with gray.
+
+“The Sentimental Gargoyle--with the Fugitive Bridegroom just behind
+him,” said Westfall, explanatorily.
+
+As the Gargoyle descended the steps and the guest behind him stood
+revealed, the Duckhunter saw a man, apparently about thirty-five years
+old, whose appearance offered a striking contrast with that of the
+guest who preceded him. Tall, and distinctly handsome, his thoughtful
+features bespoke a mind ill at ease. His brow was contracted, and he
+flashed toward the Duckhunter a stern, challenging glance which caused
+Canbeck to believe that the newcomer suspected him of being an enemy.
+
+“The Nervous Physician,” said Westfall, as a short, thick-set,
+gray-bearded man, with a quick, fidgety manner, came down the steps.
+
+“The Hypochondriacal Painter and the Whispering Gentleman,” Westfall
+went on.
+
+The first mentioned of these was a tall, emaciated man, past the prime
+of life, with long, patriarchal white hair and beard. His brow was
+high and unwrinkled, but on it, and in the large dark eyes below, was
+an expression of the most profound melancholy that the Duckhunter ever
+had seen on a human face. Beside the Hypochondriacal Painter walked a
+man of medium height, with white hair and furtive gray eyes. The skin
+of his hands and clean-shaven face had a peculiar copper-colored hue.
+He glanced sharply at the Duckhunter to whom he nodded curtly, then,
+having traversed the full length of the apartment with quick, nervous
+steps, he drew out a pair of eyeglasses and, holding these to his nose,
+he calmly proceeded to study the hieroglyphics which were inscribed on
+the cartonnage covering the body of the Egyptian princess.
+
+“The Homicidal Professor,” Westfall whispered.
+
+The Duckhunter, whose eye had been following the movements of the
+Whispering Gentleman, again turned toward the curtained doorway through
+which a stalwart-looking man, about thirty years of age, was passing.
+In the dark, brooding face and small, curled moustache of the newcomer
+there was something which caused the Duckhunter to suspect that he was
+either a Greek or an Italian. The low, deferential bow with which he
+saluted the host seemed to confirm this suspicion.
+
+All the guests were attired in full evening dress, and, with the single
+exception of the Whispering Gentleman, all appeared to be too much
+engrossed in serious reflections to manifest any interest in their
+extraordinary environment.
+
+“Well, gentlemen, shall we be seated?” asked Westfall, cheerfully.
+
+“Are we all here?” asked the Whispering Gentleman, in a loud, hoarse
+whisper.
+
+“There are two absentees, but these will not join us until the meal
+is finished,” Westfall explained, as he moved toward the head of the
+table. “Of these, one will occupy the seat at the foot of the table and
+the other will be on my right. A card at each plate will enable each of
+you to find the place to which I have taken the liberty of assigning
+you.”
+
+All then seated themselves and, while they were being served by
+Driggs, their host made several attempts to interest his guests in
+topics suggested by the news of the day. These efforts met with scant
+encouragement, however. The Nervous Physician and the Whispering
+Gentleman were the only persons to respond, the others being so
+occupied with their thoughts and the dishes set before them as to be
+oblivious to all else.
+
+At length the cigars were reached, and Driggs proceeded to remove the
+last of the dishes. Then Westfall said:
+
+“Gentlemen, though the eighth member of our company, who is about to
+join us, is a member of the other sex, she has assured me that our
+cigars will not be offensive to her, so you are at perfect liberty to
+retain them. Driggs, ask the Veiled Aeronaut if she is prepared to join
+us now.”
+
+“The Veiled Aeronaut!” exclaimed the Gargoyle, starting.
+
+Westfall frowned, as he went on:
+
+“That is the name by which the eighth guest will be known to you, and
+our friend’s exclamation seems to make it necessary for me to repeat
+what I said when you arrived at the Barge. Neither by word nor by sign
+must any of us interrupt a speaker in the course of his narrative, nor,
+during the hours that intervene between our sessions, are we to discuss
+with one another the subjects which have to do with the histories that
+you have come here to relate. This is now thoroughly understood, I
+believe.”
+
+The silence that followed remained unbroken for several moments, then
+Westfall, who had turned towards the doorway, rose gravely.
+
+“My friends,” he said, “the Veiled Aeronaut is now a member of our
+company.”
+
+Following the example of their host, the seven guests rose, and it
+would have been difficult to tell whether their action had been
+inspired by amazement or a sense of chivalry. In the doorway stood one
+of the most extraordinary figures they ever had seen. Apparently it was
+the figure of a woman, for the garments were feminine. Through the open
+front of a long, hanging-sleeved robe of gold and black brocade were
+visible a red silk waist and skirt. The head was enveloped in a heavy
+white veil which, falling to the shoulders of the wearer, completely
+concealed not only her features but the outlines of her head.
+
+For several moments the strange figure paused between the curtains.
+Then those who watched it curiously saw it sway and move as if it were
+about to retreat. Westfall, stepping quickly toward the veiled woman,
+offered her his arm. After a little further hesitation she accepted
+it, and permitted her host to lead her to the further end of the table
+where she sank listlessly into the chair that Driggs drew back for her.
+
+Exchanging covert, wondering glances, the other guests reseated
+themselves. Westfall, standing at the head of the table, addressed them.
+
+“My friends,” he said, “my purpose in causing you to assemble here
+has been to solve the mystery of a single life, but, in attempting
+to effect this solution, I have discovered that, supplementary to
+that mystery there are others in which each of you is individually
+interested. Into the greater mystery these individual adventures merge
+like streams in confluence with a mighty river. All become one at last.
+
+“In the course of my inquiries into the subject of haunted lives, I
+learned, a few months ago, of the case of a bridegroom who, on the
+very day of his wedding, became a fugitive under most extraordinary
+circumstances. A secret investigation of this case led me through many
+strange fields to some of the most remarkable men I have ever known.
+With one exception, all these men are here, and though, looking around
+you, my friends, most of you see no face, except my own, that you can
+recollect having seen before you met to-day, all of you have been
+working out a common destiny. Even now, as I say this, you look at me
+incredulously.
+
+“The impression that I am exaggerating may be strengthened at first,
+perhaps, by the fact that the scenes of the first two tales are so
+far apart, and the characters so vastly different. However, it soon
+will be demonstrated that they bear the most intimate relationship. As
+we proceed, you will observe that the interest of all the adventures
+which will be described to you will focus on a single object. In the
+mysterious chain that has excited my wonder every link is a haunted
+life, and, as the adventure of the Fugitive Bridegroom constitutes the
+first link I found, it properly will be the first to be submitted to
+your attention. With your permission, therefore, he will relate it to
+you now.”
+
+As he finished speaking, Westfall bowed gravely toward the Fugitive
+Bridegroom, who, leaning with crossed arms on the table, forthwith
+began his narrative.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+
+                       THE MYSTERY OF A DERELICT
+
+
+In describing the events which, in the course of only a few months,
+have transformed me from a care-free and prosperous young man of the
+world into a miserable creature whose very soul is pursued by the
+hounds of fear, I am now, for the first time, taking others into my
+confidence. Nor would I, even now, reveal the nature of my terrible
+adventures were it not for the feeble hope that among persons to whom
+my recital will be addressed there may be one who will aid me in my
+efforts to put to flight the spectres which, having mocked all my
+reasoning faculties, have confronted me with one of the most terrifying
+aspects of Fatality.
+
+All men are more or less prone to superstition, and, being only an
+average man, I never have been entirely free from superstitious
+fancies. While I never refused to sit down to a table that was laid
+for thirteen guests, I never did so without misgivings and secretly
+reproaching my host for his lack of thoughtfulness. Like Dickens,
+I always felt more comfortable when I saw a new moon over my right
+shoulder than I would have been had it appeared over my left.
+Instinctively I avoided walking under a ladder, and I was loath to
+embark on a new business venture on a Friday. But I may say truthfully
+that such fancies were only half-defined and I was inclined to mock
+them.
+
+I mention this fact because I want to make it clear that, despite the
+earlier impressions made upon my mind by my misadventures, I have
+attempted conscientiously to convince myself that my experiences were
+the results of natural, rather than supernatural, causes. In the end I
+have succeeded, but this conviction, so far from affording me relief,
+has rendered me more miserable than I would be were I satisfied that
+the causes were of a supernatural character.
+
+My inclination to take a superstitious view of the incidents I am about
+to describe was due, I think, to the fact that they had to do with the
+sea. However strong may be a landsman’s powers of analysis, awe clouds
+his faculties when he is called upon to fathom the mysteries of the
+ocean. He may see, but he cannot understand. He may recount, but it is
+beyond his power to explain. Natural phenomena which he contemplates on
+land may result in transient sensations of wonder or alarm, but when he
+encounters them upon the surging billows above the wreck-strewn floor
+of the sea his fears rise to the call of abnormal fancies. Bewildered
+by marvelous effects, he is prone to regard them as supernatural,
+rather than as the simple working of atmospheric and submarine forces.
+
+The son of a man of moderate wealth, I am a native of Philadelphia,
+and am now thirty years of age. My father died shortly before I took
+my degree at Harvard, and thus, when I was twenty-two years old, I
+found myself with an excellent education and a fortune that amounted
+to several hundred thousand dollars. Business interests, as well as
+social inclinations, eventually caused me to become a resident of New
+York City. There I joined several clubs and soon numbered among my
+acquaintances many well-known members of society. I remained unmarried,
+however, and most of my leisure was spent in the company of men who,
+like myself, were free from domestic ties.
+
+Among my friends there was none with whom I enjoyed closer relations
+than those which characterized my friendship with Arthur Tallier, a
+prosperous broker and an enthusiastic yachtsman, who had been one of
+my classmates at Harvard. When, therefore, he proposed a cruise to the
+Mediterranean and asked me to be one of the party I gladly accepted
+his invitation and so arranged my business affairs that I might spend
+several months abroad.
+
+Arrangements for the cruise soon were completed, and one sultry August
+morning Tallier’s steam yacht, the _Powhatan_, with a congenial company
+aboard, put to sea.
+
+For two days all went well, but on the morning of the third the
+_Powhatan_ ran into a dense fog. This lifted a bit in the afternoon,
+but as evening approached it became almost impenetrable and a light
+rain began to fall. Soon after dinner most of the members of the party
+went to the smoking-room to play bridge. Having spent most of the day
+inside, however, and believing a little exercise would be conducive to
+a restful night, I donned my raincoat, and, accompanied by a physician
+who was one of Tallier’s guests, went for a stroll on deck.
+
+The sea was calm and a light rain was falling. Inasmuch as we were
+in one of the steamship lanes, the yacht, proceeding blindly through
+darkness and fog, sounded her siren every few minutes. These blasts
+elicited no response. Apparently no other vessel was within the compass
+of their warning notes.
+
+After a brisk walk on the wet deck for about fifteen minutes, my
+companion and I, having had enough of the drizzly atmosphere,
+stepped into the wheelhouse. The captain was at the wheel, but was
+so strangely sullen that we soon abandoned our attempts to draw him
+into conversation. At length the doctor suggested that we join our
+fellow-voyagers in the smoking-room. I assented, and we bade our
+inhospitable captain good-night.
+
+I had just opened the door of the wheelhouse, preparatory to stepping
+down to the deck, when a terrific, crashing shock brought the yacht
+to a standstill so suddenly that I lost my footing at the top of the
+wheelhouse steps. Falling, I grabbed a brass rail, but some unseen
+power seemed to wrench me loose and fling me to the deck.
+
+I tried to rise, but the effort was vain. As, succumbing to a great
+numbness, I sank back weakly, I seemed to be lying on a white-padded
+floor, with a cluster of arc lights dazzling my eyes with their glare.
+Hoarse shouts of men and shrill cries of women filled the air as
+over me bent a shirt-sleeved man, calling off seconds, as I had seen
+referees do over men who had been knocked down in boxing contests.
+
+Then a great chill came over me, and, with it, a sense of
+strangulation. As I choked, a roaring filled my ears, but the sound
+no longer was that made by the voices of men and women. There
+now flashed into my mind a realization of the fact that I was in
+water--sinking--that I must struggle for my life. At last my head
+reached air. I freed my nose and mouth of water, and breathed again.
+With breath came thought--and horror.
+
+In the darkest night I ever had seen I was swimming alone--in the open
+sea!
+
+Dazed by the inexplicable nature of the accident that had befallen
+me, I thought slowly. My first impression was that I was the victim
+of a nightmare, but this passed quickly. Then it occurred to me that,
+despite the calmness of the sea before and after the occurrence that
+was responsible for my plight, the _Powhatan_ had been overwhelmed by
+a tidal wave, and, still afloat, perhaps, was within range of my voice.
+Scarcely had this hope flashed into my mind when I began to call for
+aid.
+
+The great conglomerate of fog and darkness and pattering rain smothered
+my hollow shouts. As I listened vainly for a response, despair gripped
+my heart and throat until they swelled with pain. But, mechanically and
+aimlessly, I swam on.
+
+Stricken with some malady or with a mortal wound, nearly every man,
+whether strong or weak, meets death with fortitude. Physically and
+mentally sound, he may advance intrepidly toward a flashing battle
+line, walk with firm steps to the place of his military or civil
+execution, or, weary of earth, end his life with his own hand. In such
+situations death comes with the fulfilment of a purpose--surcease
+of suffering, the expression of loyalty or self-invited capital
+punishment. But when a strong man, free from mental and physical
+infirmity, is brought face to face with death in a situation such as
+the one which confronted me the most terrible degree of mental torture
+is likely to precede the flight of his soul.
+
+Though I may say truthfully that I had no fear of death itself, it
+still is true that the association of my physical strength and utter
+helplessness produced in my mind an anguish that is indescribable. I
+felt as if I were to be my own executioner--that, in order to sink to
+asphyxiation and death, it first would be necessary for me to exhaust
+deliberately the physical vigor with which nature and my inclination
+toward athletic exercises had endowed me.
+
+So broad and unruffled were the great, gently heaving sea-swells that
+I was scarcely sensible of their rise and fall. The water which had
+chilled me a bit when I was first immersed, now seemed of Gulf Stream
+warmth. When I had entered the _Powhatan’s_ wheelhouse I was perspiring
+as a result of the briskness of my walk on the deck. Accordingly I
+removed the raincoat I had been wearing. Leaving the wheelhouse, I
+had thrown the coat loosely over my shoulders, and when I fell it had
+slipped from me. So light and loose-fitting were the coat and trousers
+I wore that they hampered my movements as little as did the tennis
+shoes on my feet.
+
+Swimming as easily as I often had done at Newport and Palm Beach, I
+tried to meet with resignation the fate that seemed inevitable. But the
+effort was vain. Every impulse that came to me, every fibre of my being
+was in revolt against that God who had condemned me to such a death.
+
+How long I endured this mental torment I do not know, but its end came
+suddenly. In a moment all my senses were alert, and I was listening
+for a repetition of a sound that was of neither rain nor sea. It soon
+came to me again--a faint, creaking and grinding sound that bore some
+resemblance to those made by a big vessel, which, heaved by large
+swells, strains at its hawsers and grates against its pier. Scarcely
+had I begun to speculate on the nature of this sound when I became
+aware that the air was permeated by something stronger than brine. It
+was the acrid odor of burnt wood.
+
+Again the blood was throbbing in my temples, and the abrupt reaction
+from despair to hope produced a feeling of suffocation. So great was
+my agitation that my hearing was dulled, and for several moments I
+listened vainly for the sounds that had so affected me. When I heard
+them again I began to think more calmly, then realized how necessary
+it was that I should proceed with the greatest caution. A continuance
+of my ability to hear the sounds might mean life to me. Should they
+cease, death was inevitable. By swimming only a few strokes in the
+wrong direction I might be unable to hear them again.
+
+So impressed was I by the fear that I might lose my sense of direction
+that I restrained the impulse to shout for aid. Careful to keep my ears
+free from water, I now, for the first time, began to put power into my
+strokes. Soon the creaking and grinding and clanking grew louder. That
+the sounds emanated from some vessel was obvious. Fearful lest it might
+run me down or pass me, I ceased to press on and shouted with all the
+power of which my lungs were capable, but there came no answering hail.
+
+Once more I swam on. But now, as I proceeded, I exercised the greatest
+caution. Certain minor sounds, mingling with those I heard first,
+plainly indicated that I was within a few yards of my objective. That
+its motive power was idle was plain. So close was I to the vessel now
+that, had there been lights aboard, I scarcely could have failed to
+see something of their glow. The thought came to me that maybe, after
+all, this was the _Powhatan_, so crippled by the shock it had sustained
+that its light-generating apparatus had been made useless. Again I
+shouted--now calling the names of some of my late companions. But there
+came no answer.
+
+The last of my cries ended abruptly. My right hand, extended in
+a swimming movement, came in contact with something of rock-like
+solidity. Half-fearfully, I drew back, and the blood leaped in my
+veins; then, breathlessly, I struck out to find the rock-like thing
+again. The effort was successful. In a few moments I was passing one of
+my hands over a row of rivet heads, set in the steel side of a vessel.
+
+But the thrill of exultation that followed my discovery scarcely was
+gone before the old feeling of helplessness again settled upon me. My
+failure to obtain an answer to my shouts, the absence of lights, the
+motionless screw and the heavy, oppressive odor of burnt wood made the
+situation clear.
+
+I was swimming beside the fire-scarred hulk of a derelict, and into my
+mind flashed the suspicion that it was with this the _Powhatan_ had
+been in collision--that this great worthless steel mass had survived
+the shock that sent the more lightly built steam yacht to the sea’s
+bottom.
+
+Perhaps, even now, the derelict, itself, was sinking, and in a few
+minutes I might be drawn down by the suction of the waters as they
+closed over her. But this reflection did not inspire me with fear. It
+occurred to me that should the vessel go down, I, escaping the suction,
+might be able to find lodgment on some piece of charred wreckage left
+on the surface of the sea.
+
+Gradually this series of speculations ceased to engage my mind, which
+became dominated by the hope that I might find some means of getting
+aboard the vessel. This, at least, being in a steamship lane, might be
+observed in a few hours by some liner. If I could find some means of
+keeping afloat until after daybreak my rescue still was possible.
+
+And now a new inspiration came to me. I reflected that, lightened by
+the burning of woodwork and cargo, the derelict probably was drawing
+much less water than she had done before and that, as a result of
+the lowering of her waterline, her rudder or screw might afford me a
+temporary resting place. Accordingly I struck out in a direction which,
+I thought, might take me to the stern.
+
+Swimming slowly along the hull, I had progressed only ten or twelve
+yards when my head and one of my shoulders came into contact with
+something that produced upon me the effect of an unseen, reaching hand.
+Though startled, I clutched at it wildly. I missed it, at first, but in
+another moment it was in my grasp--a rope which depended from something
+above me.
+
+Hope flashed like lightning, but my senses were benumbed by the
+rumbling of the thunder of despair. Cowardice set me trembling. I dared
+not test the strength of the rope that seemed to have been lowered to
+me from the skies. Was the upper end made fast, or was it lying loose?
+How was it possible that hempen strands could survive the heat of the
+fire that had swept the vessel?
+
+In a few moments, however, I nerved myself for the ordeal. Reaching
+well up, I grasped the rope firmly and threw my weight upon it. It met
+the test.
+
+In my boyhood I had climbed ropes in this fashion, and I soon found
+I had not lost the knack. With less physical strain than I had
+anticipated, I moved up evenly, hand over hand, until the rope ended in
+the blockless iron ring of a davit. I was beginning to breathe heavily,
+however, as I swung myself astride of the davit, and slipped cautiously
+to the vessel’s side.
+
+Clinging to the davit and the metalwork to which it was affixed, I
+tried to estimate the character of the footing immediately around it.
+I found all wood had been burned away and that I stood on the verge of
+what appeared to be a great void. Below I heard the swish of shifting
+waters and the creaking of iron as the vessel rolled from side to side
+on the swells.
+
+The metalwork around the foot of the davit was of a nature that
+afforded me a safe, if not comfortable, perch for the night, and so,
+after removing my dripping coat and my soaked shoes, I seated myself
+and proceeded to await the coming of dawn.
+
+When day broke, a dismal prospect met my view. With the exception of
+part of the deck in the stern and a small stern deckhouse, the interior
+of the vessel had been so ravaged by fire that the structure now was
+scarcely more than an immense floating iron tank. The cross-beams,
+reddish and gray, remained in position. Between them, piled upon them
+or swinging beneath them were great tangled masses of grotesquely
+twisted steel and fragments of blackened wood. These, grating together
+as the big hulk lolled on the swells, produced the sounds that first
+had attracted my attention.
+
+The position in which I now found myself was on the starboard side,
+well aft, but still about thirty feet from that part of the stern deck
+that was only partly destroyed. Working my way carefully along the side
+of the hulk, I had comparatively little difficulty in getting to the
+stern deck. This, despite its blackened appearance, I found capable of
+sustaining my weight, and over it I made my way to the deckhouse.
+
+By what freakish combination of circumstances the complete destruction
+of this deckhouse had been arrested it would be difficult to explain.
+Though charred inside and out, the walls and roof still remained in
+position, and within were a table and four chairs, all partly burned.
+Subsequent speculations on the subject inclined me to the belief
+that it was here the fire had its origin, and that while the crew
+was fighting it at this point it had swept forward where it raged
+unchecked. The drenching to which the deckhouse had been subjected,
+before the crew fled from the vessel, doubtless had been sufficient to
+enable this part of the structure to withstand the heat to which it
+afterward was exposed.
+
+A warm sun contributed in no small degree to my comfort during the
+day and enabled me to dry my wet garments, but by noon an intolerable
+thirst began to assert itself. It then occurred to me that, as it had
+rained the night before, I might obtain fresh water from depressions
+in the steel structural work. I found a dilapidated pan, and, after
+considerable labor, I collected enough water to last me for at least
+forty-eight hours.
+
+There was something so miraculous in the manner I had been able to
+board the derelict that, for several hours, I did not doubt that
+eventually I would be taken off by a passing vessel. Firm in my faith,
+I was depressed only by the magnitude of the disaster that had come to
+my friends on the _Powhatan_, for that the yacht had gone down I did
+not doubt. But, as hour after hour passed, my failure to see even the
+smoke of a passing vessel again unnerved me. Had I escaped death from
+the waves only to perish of hunger and thirst on a charred derelict?
+
+By nightfall my head was aching as a result of hunger, the glare of the
+sun on the sea and the overpowering odor of burned timbers. For several
+hours longer I looked over the star-reflecting waters for the lights of
+some passing liner, which, though it could not see my signals, still
+would give me assurance that the derelict was in a steamship lane. But
+I saw none, and, worn with fatigue and despondency, I stretched myself
+on the charred floor of the deckhouse and slept.
+
+I was awake at sunrise, and resumed my vigil. And now the monotony of
+it all began to have a strange effect on my mind. It was difficult for
+me to keep my thoughts out of ruts. The dominant subject in my mind was
+the rope by means of which I had boarded the derelict. Why had it not
+been destroyed by the fire which swept the vessel? Why was it tied in
+that fashion to the davit ring, instead of passing through a block?
+
+So engrossed did I become in such speculation that once I worked my way
+back to the davit and there proceeded to subject the rope to a careful
+examination. It was plain that it had not even been singed. The thought
+then came to me that, following the fire, the derelict had been boarded
+by members of the crew of some passing ship. I realized it would be
+possible for sailors in a small boat to get a light line over some
+projection above them, draw up a rope and board the hulk. In such a
+case, it was possible that, making a descent by means of the davit, the
+last one down had left the line in the position in which I had found it.
+
+But even the partial acceptance of this theory did not enable me to get
+my thoughts out of the rut for which the rope was responsible. Try as I
+might, I could think of nothing but the rope.
+
+Brain-weary and suffering from the pangs of hunger, I was watching
+the sun go down at the close of my second day on the derelict when
+my attention was suddenly attracted by something which darted by
+me--something that seemed to be a black bird, a little smaller than a
+robin. But, as it wheeled and circled above me, I finally identified it.
+
+It was a bat.
+
+As I watched the thing, it darted toward the forward part of the
+derelict and disappeared.
+
+So little impression did the incident make upon me, at first, that, for
+the next two hours, it had no place in my thoughts. It was not until,
+with my folded coat for a pillow, I had stretched myself again on the
+floor of the deckhouse that the ill-omened creature fluttered into my
+mind in a manner that was productive of a sudden mental shock.
+
+For hours my disordered fancy had been occupied with an attempt to
+solve the mystery of the unsinged rope. But here was a mystery that was
+still more baffling. Assuming that the loathsome thing had been on the
+vessel prior to the fire, how had it contrived to survive the period in
+which the burning hulk was enveloped in flames and smoke? It had been
+my understanding that the flights of bats were of comparatively brief
+duration. Where had this found lodgment while the fire was raging?
+Had it clung to some piece of wreckage it found floating on the sea?
+Or had it hung or lain in the charred deckhouse while the flames were
+consuming the forward part of the vessel?
+
+It was in vain that I tried to expel it from my mind. It remained as
+firmly fixed as one which, in my boyhood, I had seen entangled in a
+woman’s hair. A thrill of horror passed through me as I reflected that
+bats were believed to possess the attributes of vampires. I had seen
+this one sally forth in quest of prey. But what was there in or about
+this fire-scarred mass of eternally crunching, creaking, wailing steel
+that could minister to its appetite?
+
+Half rising, I looked fearfully toward the doorless doorway and
+shattered windows.
+
+And so it came to pass that I dared not sleep. Sitting cross-legged on
+the deckhouse floor, my gaze wandered from window to window and to the
+open doorway with dread expectancy.
+
+“It will come back,” I kept repeating.
+
+While I waited, a new thought came to me. I rose, stepped outside
+and picked up a stick which had been lying on the deck. With this I
+reentered the deckhouse. Dread gave place to sleepless patience as I
+resumed my vigil. But the thing for which I waited did not come.
+
+When darkness melted into the changing hues of dawn I left the
+deckhouse. With my night vigil ended and my day vigil begun, my weary
+gaze passed around the great circle of the horizon. No ship or blur
+of smoke met my view. The craving for food, which had caused much
+discomfort during the night, had left me now, but the indications of a
+clear, warm day brought to me new reason for anxiety. Of my carefully
+hoarded water only two swallows remained.
+
+And yet in the freshness of the morning air there was something that
+seemed to bring new life to me. My jaded spirit rose with the sun, and
+I reproached myself for the fears that had been responsible for my
+sleepless nights--fears which, I knew now, merely had been products of
+a fancy disordered by hunger, unearthly isolation, the loss of friends,
+exposure, lack of tobacco and the ceaseless creaking and wailing of the
+mass of wreckage in the hold.
+
+But how was I to guard against a recurrence of such fears and such a
+night as the one I just had passed? Then I remembered I had heard it
+said that the most effective way to free the mind of an unwelcome fancy
+is to write something concerning it and lay it away. I was inclined to
+ridicule the idea at first, but it soon made another sort of appeal to
+me, for it offered a new means of relieving the monotony of my position.
+
+Attached to the chain of the watch which went with me aboard the
+derelict was a little gold pencil, and in one of the pockets of my coat
+were several letters. Reasoning that these might serve as a means of
+identifying my body if it should be found on the derelict, I had dried
+them and returned them to my pocket. On the back of one of the letters
+I now proceeded to write eight rhymed lines suggested by the fears that
+had come to me the night before. When I was done, I folded the sheet
+and slipped it back in the pocket from which I had taken it.
+
+The morning was only about half spent when a plainly discernible smudge
+of smoke on the western horizon indicated the position of a steamship.
+For more than half an hour, tortured by nerve-racking anxiety, I
+watched it. It disappeared, however, and with disappointment came
+mental and physical collapse.
+
+Whether I fainted, or whether, yielding to exhaustion resulting from my
+wakeful night, I sank into a heavy sleep, I do not know. It was almost
+sundown, however, when I regained my senses. When I had lapsed into
+unconsciousness I had been on the deck. Now I was on the floor of the
+deckhouse. I was coughing, and my blackened skin was hot with fever.
+
+Rising weakly, I went to the pan that had held my supply of water. It
+was empty. Seating myself on the floor beside the pan, I hid my face in
+my hands. As my lids closed over my smarting eyes, it seemed to me I
+was standing on the deck of the _Powhatan_, defending myself against a
+giant seagull that had attacked me.
+
+I was sinking into a doze when something startled me. As I raised my
+head all my nerves were quivering. No longer conscious of physical
+weakness, I rose with trembling haste and crossed to the doorway of
+the deckhouse. Looking out, I saw that a strange, twilight haze had
+enveloped the derelict, shutting out even a view of the sea. Then--far,
+far in the distance--I heard the sullen booming of a steamer’s siren.
+
+There was a long interval of silence, then the blasts were repeated,
+but I was unable to determine whether the sounds indicated that the
+unseen vessel was drawing nearer. Four blasts were followed by another
+long period of silence.
+
+Through long minutes I waited breathlessly. Then the siren boomed
+again. A fierce exultation possessed me as I realized that, through the
+haze, the steamer was heading toward the derelict.
+
+Scarcely had the notes of the blast died away, however, when a great
+chill smote me. From the creaking, mist-enshrouded wreckage in the
+derelict’s hold suddenly issued a long peal of shrill, feminine
+laughter. Then there rose a series of weird notes, which, at first, I
+was unable to identify. Finally I recognized them. They were the notes
+of a concertina.
+
+And soon, mingling with the concertina’s strains, I heard the voice of
+a woman, who, in a dreary monotone, sang the lines I had written on the
+back of a letter several hours before:--
+
+    “You who would fresh water taste,
+      ’Mid this wreckage, warped and torn,
+    Shall yield to me, before they waste,
+      A hundred blood-drops in the morn.
+    When I have had my full desire,
+      I will supply your every need.
+    Sweet water then shall quench your fire
+      And savoury food reward the deed.”
+
+The singer ceased. Trembling and weak again, I leaned against the
+charred deckhouse. Once more I heard the siren’s blasts. Fainter now,
+they were coming from a greater distance. The steamer, unseeing and
+unseen, had altered her course.
+
+Tottering and groping like a drunkard, I went into the deckhouse and
+sank to the floor. In my brain Reason and Unreason were in conflict.
+Reason told me the concertina and the woman I had heard were mere
+products of a disordered fancy. But Unreason assured me that they were
+real and that I must prepare to meet the woman. Mumbling blasphemies,
+addressed to each, I closed my eyes, and slept.
+
+I awoke with a cry of alarm. Something had struck me lightly on the
+face, and, as I listened, I heard a faint, fluttering sound. Looking
+around me, I saw a singular change had come to the interior of the
+deckhouse, which now seemed rather larger than before. A dimly burning
+lamp lighted the room, and above a rusty stove bent an aged crone,
+warming her hands and muttering incoherently. Under one arm she carried
+a stout staff with which, from time to time, she struck at something in
+the air. In a moment I marked the cause of the fluttering I had heard.
+In the room were at least a score of bats.
+
+“Begone, ye pests!” exclaimed the old hag, with vindictive eyes. “D’ye
+not know Laquella will soon be here? Back--back to your holes, ye
+evil-eyed devils! D’ye not hear Laquella at the door?”
+
+The words were scarcely spoken when a young woman entered the doorway.
+
+As I gazed upon the newcomer I was overcome by mingled sensations
+of admiration and fear. She was of extraordinary beauty. Her dark
+hair fell in unkempt masses about her shoulders. She wore only two
+garments--a white chemise and a red petticoat which extended to her
+ankles. Her skin was dark and her teeth faultless. There was something
+in her expression, however--the lines of her mouth, the unnatural,
+velvety lustre of her eyes, the abnormal redness of her lips and the
+cat-like grace of her body--that at once fascinated and repelled me.
+As she advanced with languid steps into the deckhouse, water ran in
+streams from the folds of her rain-soaked garments, and she shivered.
+
+“It’s bitterly cold to-night, mother,” she began, in soft, plaintive
+accents, as she folded her bare arms across her bosom and drew nearer
+the stove.
+
+There was a sudden fluttering among the bats that had found lodgment
+among the timbers at the top of the room.
+
+“Silence!” shrieked the old woman. “Ye black-winged leeches, d’ye not
+see Laquella is here?” Leering, she turned toward the newcomer and
+added: “Somebody’s waiting, my dear. Ah, it’s many a long moon since
+you have had a lover so strong--eh, Laquella?” And the crone cackled
+mischievously.
+
+Laquella, giving a little start, faced me suddenly. At first a smile,
+as of joyous surprise, played about her lips, but, as she gazed, this
+was succeeded by an expression of fierce, passionate yearning, which,
+kindling in her wide, lustrous eyes, rapidly lightened her features.
+Her red lips parted and her bosom heaved as she extended her arms and
+approached me. Three or four quick strides brought her to where I lay,
+then, with a little sigh, she sank down beside me.
+
+“See, I shudder with the cold,” she whispered, as she caressed my head.
+“Breathe--breathe on me, dear. Your breath is life--life to me. Oh,
+God! How chill and lonely it is out here on the sea, which moans all
+day and night, and talks of death. Draw me closer--closer, love, and
+warm me in your arms.”
+
+Obedient to her will, I drew her to me. For several moments she hid her
+face on my breast, and I felt her body shake with convulsive sobs. At
+length she raised her head, and I shrank in terror from the passionate
+eyes that fixed their gaze on mine.
+
+“I live--I live again!” she murmured. “Already Death’s dreadful fingers
+are beginning to relax their hold. You are breathing me back to life
+again--to live--to live for you.”
+
+Clasping me tighter in her arms, she pressed her lips to my forehead.
+A chill pervaded my body, and I trembled violently. Drawing back a
+little, she placed her frigid palms to my cheeks, and then went on:
+
+“But your hot flesh burns my hands. Your feverish blood----”
+
+She paused abruptly and, with a little gasp, she turned away. Her hands
+moved quickly to the upper part of my right arm, and I felt her toying
+with the sleeve of my shirt. Suddenly a twinge of pain darted through
+me, and as, with exclamations of horror and distress, I tried to rise,
+I heard a ripping sound made by the tearing of the sleeve. A wild light
+was shining in her eyes, and, as she forced me back again, I knew the
+blood I saw on one of her hands was my own.
+
+Panting, and with eager haste, she pressed her cold lips to the
+bleeding wound. It was in vain that I struggled frantically and bade
+her desist. My privations had exhausted me, and she was the stronger
+of the two. I felt my remaining strength slipping away from me. Then I
+lost consciousness.
+
+Slowly my senses came back to me again. A spoon was being thrust
+between my teeth, and the odor of broth was in my nostrils. I made a
+weak attempt to turn the spoon aside, for was not this food the price
+of blood?
+
+“Take it--take it, lad! Were the hampers of the _Hannibal_ so well
+filled that you have no need of the bounty of the _Highland Lady_!”
+
+The voice was that of a man, and, half-fearfully, I opened my eyes. I
+saw that I now lay in the berth of a well appointed stateroom, and that
+two men were standing beside me. One, clad in a blue uniform, held a
+spoon and cup. The other, somewhat younger, was dressed as a ship’s
+steward.
+
+“Is he coming round, Doctor?” asked a quiet, kindly voice near the door.
+
+“Oh, yes, yes--he’ll do well enough now,” replied the man in the blue
+uniform, then, again addressing me, he said: “Come, come, man, take
+this broth and then----”
+
+But I heard no more. The physician who had found it necessary to use
+force to get the spoonfuls of broth between my lips now was compelled
+forcibly to restrain me from seizing the cup that held the precious
+liquid. The doles came too slowly, and I gulped them down like a
+famished beast of prey. And, as I ate and felt the warmth of brandy and
+broth stealing through my veins, I realized that the vampire had indeed
+kept her word and I was saved.
+
+When the cup of broth was empty, I besought the physician for water and
+more food, but all my prayers to him were vain.
+
+“In another half hour, perhaps, but not now,” he answered kindly. “Your
+stomach is so weak that we must wait a while.”
+
+In a frenzy of despair I rose to a sitting posture, and accused the
+physician of attempting to starve me. Laying a hand on my shoulder, he
+tried to force me to lie down again. As I raised my right arm to thrust
+his hand away a violent pain racked my arm and shoulder.
+
+“Be careful, my man!” exclaimed the physician, sharply, and an
+expression of anxiety came into his eyes. “In trying to fill your
+stomach, see to it that you don’t empty your sleeve.”
+
+Half-swooning with pain, I glanced at my arm. Then I saw that it was
+swollen to nearly twice its natural size and was bandaged just below
+the shoulder.
+
+Once more the horror of my terrible adventure on the derelict
+overwhelmed me, and I lost consciousness.
+
+How often I regained my senses and lost them again in the course of the
+next few days I do not know. Everything around me was blurred. Again
+and again I heard the fluttering of the bats, but strange voices kept
+assuring me that the sounds were those of waves and rain. Twice or
+thrice I shrieked in fear as I saw the face of Laquella at my stateroom
+door, and often, weeping like a child, I told myself that I was mad.
+
+But there came a day, at last, when the hateful fluttering ceased and
+the features of Laquella haunted me no more. The faces and words of
+those who attended me grew more and more distinct. Before, sunlight,
+moonlight and lamplight had been as one to me, but now I was able to
+distinguish the difference between day and night. When the change in
+my condition was brought about, I was lying on a cot in a Liverpool
+hospital, and I was informed that I had been in the institution for
+more than a week.
+
+I was told, too, that not once since I had been taken from the derelict
+_Hannibal_, in mid-ocean, had I been able to speak coherently. My name
+was unknown, and the captain of the steamship _Highland Lady_ had
+failed to learn from me how it had come to pass that I had “survived
+the fire that had destroyed the tramp steamer.”
+
+I asked the day of the month, and, when I learned this, I realized
+that two weeks had passed since that fateful night when I stood on the
+bridge on the _Powhatan_.
+
+In response to the eager questions of my attendants, I described the
+yacht’s collision with the derelict, but I was unable to tell whether
+or not the _Powhatan_ went down. I told them, too, of the manner I had
+climbed aboard the derelict, but of my experience with Laquella I did
+not speak, for I felt now that that incident was nothing more than the
+product of an imagination distorted by the physical suffering to which
+I had been subjected.
+
+“But how did you come by that wound in your arm?” asked one of the
+physicians, when I had finished my story.
+
+“The wound!” I exclaimed wonderingly.
+
+“In your right arm--yes. Did you not know it was there?”
+
+I felt beads of perspiration gathering on my brow, and my limbs began
+to tremble.
+
+“No,” I answered, weakly.
+
+“You were scratched by a piece of rusty metal, perhaps,” my questioner
+said, thoughtfully. “But, whatever the cause may have been, you have
+had an attack of gangrene that almost made it necessary for us to
+amputate your arm. In delaying the operation we took a long chance, but
+the danger is over now, and another fortnight will find you little the
+worse physically as a result of your unfortunate adventure.”
+
+Stricken aghast by the significance of the wound in my arm, I still
+struggled to assure myself that the injury was, as the doctor had
+suggested, nothing more than infection resulting from some trifling
+and unnoticed scratch that I had received while I was on the derelict.
+But, strive as I would to combat it, the impression made on my mind by
+the notes of the concertina, by the voice and words of the singer and
+by the visit of the mysterious young woman to the wrecked deckhouse,
+continued so strong that I was no longer able to regard these incidents
+as anything less than realities.
+
+At length, completely cured of the malady that had threatened me
+with the loss of my arm, as well as the loss of my life, I left the
+hospital. From England I went to the Continent to recuperate, and it
+was not until the following Spring that I returned to New York.
+
+The Summer and Autumn that followed my return to the United States
+were uneventful. With my health completely restored, I again addressed
+myself to my business interests, and in the commonplace atmosphere in
+which I moved romance and superstition had so little place that at last
+I came to regard my adventure on the _Hannibal_ as one recalls the
+half-forgotten scenes of a nightmare.
+
+About this time a change came over me, and club life began to lose many
+of its former charms. I spent more time at the homes of my friends, and
+was frequently a member of week-end parties at country houses, but,
+though I was finding more pleasure in the society of women than I had
+found before, no member of the sex had made any serious impression upon
+me.
+
+Thus it came to pass that I was again pursuing the even tenor of my
+way, with pleasing prospects and with no past misfortunes to mourn
+other than the deaths of my parents and the tragical end of Tallier and
+my other shipmates on the _Powhatan_, when one night in early December,
+I attended a performance of “_L’Africaine_,” in the Metropolitan Opera
+House. Accompanied by George Kane, one of my friends, I left the box
+which we had been occupying with his mother and sister, and strolled
+out to the foyer. We were about to return to the box when my companion
+nodded slightly to one of the promenaders. Involuntarily I glanced
+toward the person who had attracted the attention of my friend. This
+was a dark-haired, clean-shaven young man of about my own age. His face
+was long and well-moulded, and his tall, faultlessly clad figure was
+that of an athlete.
+
+But for only a moment did my gaze rest on this stranger. Beside him
+was a young woman--a young woman whose face and figure were, I think,
+the most beautiful I had ever seen. She was rather above the medium
+height of women, and her dark hair, coiled in great masses behind her
+shapely head and neck, seemed by the contrast it offered to enhance the
+exquisite coloring of her features. Her eyes were dark and singularly
+lustrous. She was laughing when I saw her first, and her red lips,
+faultless teeth and vivacious expression would have been sufficient to
+fascinate an ordinary observer, even had her other perfections been
+less striking. She was gowned in black and her splendid shoulders and
+arms were bare. Unlike other fashionably dressed women, she wore no
+necklace or bracelets.
+
+As the young woman turned her head carelessly, her gaze met mine, but
+it was only for a moment. She nodded slightly to my companion, and then
+passed on with her escort.
+
+“Who are they, Kane?” I asked abruptly, turning to my friend.
+
+“Tom Trevison and his sister,” he answered, shortly.
+
+“Trevison!” I muttered. “I have no recollection of having heard of them
+before.”
+
+“They’re not in society. Old Trevison, several years ago, came from
+somewhere out West, where he owned some mining property. About a year
+ago he died. No one ever saw Tom before that, and what he does for a
+living no man knows. He and his sister live together at an apartment
+hotel away uptown. They are great music lovers, and it’s only at
+the opera and at musicales one ever sees them. The girl’s a stunner,
+though. It’s a pity she doesn’t let herself out.”
+
+The curtain was about to go up, so we hurried back to our box.
+
+From that night I became known as one of the most assiduous patrons of
+opera and piano recitals in the metropolis. I soon learned that Kane
+had spoken truly. Music was Miss Trevison’s hobby. I repeatedly saw
+her with her brother at the Metropolitan Opera House at night, and I
+was quick to observe that they nearly always occupied the same seats
+about the middle of the orchestra. In the afternoons I frequently saw
+Miss Trevison at piano or violin recitals, on which occasions she was
+accompanied by one or two women friends.
+
+At length, with a fluttering heart, I became conscious of the fact
+that the young woman had begun to notice my presence at the various
+entertainments which attracted her. On several occasions I saw her
+gaze rest upon me for a moment as she glanced over the audience in the
+course of her search for familiar faces.
+
+Once, while she was conversing with a man whom I knew to be a musical
+critic for one of the newspapers, I saw the man glance toward me
+quickly. He looked at me searchingly for several moments, then, turning
+to her again, he shook his head.
+
+I inferred that, answering a question, he had told her I was not a
+member of his guild.
+
+Two weeks after the evening on which I first had seen Miss Trevison at
+the Opera House, I contrived to secure an introduction to her brother.
+A week later the brother introduced me to his sister, and on the
+following afternoon I met and conversed with her at a recital given by
+a celebrated Russian pianist.
+
+I doubt whether, in such a brief period, any man was so quickly
+subjugated by a woman’s charms. At last I had permission to visit
+her, and the privilege of escorting her to musical entertainments was
+accorded to me. I became more and more desperately in love.
+
+But, by degrees, there came to be mingled with this love an almost
+indefinable sense of fear. Strong as I am physically, there were times
+when the very thought of Paula Trevison set me trembling. What had
+inspired this fear I did not know. Often I would try to analyze the
+feeling. Sometimes I fancied it was caused by doubts of my ability to
+win her, but as, day by day, we became better comrades, I grew more
+sanguine, and yet the haunting sense of fear became more and more
+perceptible, taking the form of one of those premonitions of evil which
+all men have felt at some period of their lives.
+
+One afternoon, in February, Paula and I, seated together in a concert
+room, were listening to a famous pianist’s exquisite rendition of
+one of Chopin’s nocturnes. While under the spell of the music I
+involuntarily laid my hand on hers. As our eyes met, something in those
+of my companion caused me to grow hot and cold in turn. In that glance
+I read the confession of a love so masterful and passionate that I
+believed it was more than human, and yet I felt that it was no more
+strong than mine.
+
+That night I asked Paula to be my wife, and, as she gave me the answer
+that I craved, I took her in my arms. Our lips met, and then--ah, all
+that followed seemed to be as unreal as the incidents of a dream. I
+kissed her lips, her brow, her hair, her hands. I saw the half-grave,
+half-smiling face of her brother as we told him all. But, when he took
+my hands, I, who was physically as strong as he, was trembling like a
+frightened child.
+
+When I returned to my apartments that night I tottered like a drunkard,
+and as I saw my reflection in a mirror I shrank aghast from the ashen
+features and bloodshot eyes that confronted me.
+
+I asked myself whether I was mad. If not, why should I have walked
+the floor nearly all that night, striving to banish from my mind the
+love-illumined face of Paula Trevison? Why were my heart and mind in
+conflict? Why was I tortured by sensations such as might come to a man
+who, having sold his soul to the devil for five years of Paradise,
+hesitates to enter into his reward?
+
+During the three months that followed Paula’s consent to become my
+wife, my fear that I was losing my reason became so great that at
+length it virtually amounted to a conviction. In her presence I was
+always a passionate and devoted admirer, but no sooner did I leave her
+than I reproached myself because of my inability to keep away from
+her--to thrust her out of my life.
+
+It was arranged that we should be married in June, and that after the
+ceremony we should embark for Europe where our honeymoon would be
+spent. In accordance with this plan, a little party of our friends
+assembled in a Harlem church one morning and in their presence Paula
+Trevison became my wife. An hour later we entered a limousine and in
+this we set off for the pier to which our luggage had been taken the
+day before.
+
+For several moments after entering the vehicle we sat in silence, with
+Paula’s hand clasped in mine. Then I observed that my wife was looking
+at me curiously. At length, laughing a little uneasily, she spoke.
+
+“It seems so strange, dear, that you should be more nervous than I this
+morning,” she said. “Are you not well?”
+
+There was a note of reproach in her voice, and, as she attempted to
+withdraw the hand I held, I grasped it more tightly.
+
+“I am well enough,” I answered, “but I thought the ceremony would never
+end, and, after it was over, every one, in offering congratulations,
+seemed to say something to which I had replied before. I am afraid
+that the difficulty I found in giving variety to my replies made me
+irritable.”
+
+“Well, you looked positively haggard,” said Paula laughingly, “and,
+when I saw you so, I began to see in your face something that gave me
+the impression that we had met somewhere before--a long time before you
+first saw me on that night in the Opera House.”
+
+“That we had met before!” I muttered. “Had we met before I think I
+surely would have remembered it.”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“It is no more than a mere fancy of mine, I suppose,” she said.
+
+We rode on in silence, but there had been something in her words that
+changed the current of my thoughts, and I asked myself whether, after
+all, it was not possible that we had, indeed, met before.
+
+We arrived at the pier at last, and, alighting from the limousine, we
+quickly crossed the gangplank and made our way to the stateroom I had
+engaged. This was on the promenade deck, and immediately after entering
+I proceeded to open the window in order to admit the air.
+
+Thinking that some of our friends might have decided to come to the
+pier to see us off, I left Paula in the stateroom, and strolled out on
+the deck. As I looked over the rail I saw a large crowd of Italians
+who, apparently, had assembled to bid farewell to some of their
+fellow-countrymen in the steerage.
+
+At length I saw a couple of waving arms and I recognized Paula’s
+brother and one of his friends. They quickly shouldered their way
+through the crowd, but just as they reached the foot of the gangplank
+an officer motioned them back. A moment later cries of “All off for
+the shore” were echoing through the vessel, and the men who had been
+standing beside the great posts over which the hawser loops were thrown
+began to manifest signs of activity. The time for sailing was at hand.
+
+Waving my hands toward my friends on the shore, I hurried back to the
+stateroom for Paula. As I paused at the door, I saw she had removed the
+hat she had worn on the way to the pier and that she was now putting on
+a Tam-o’-Shanter.
+
+I was about to speak when the sounds of Italian voices crying
+“_addios_” came to my ears through the open window. The cries ceased as
+suddenly as they had risen, and then I heard a sound that caused me to
+start violently. As I listened, Paula turned toward me.
+
+The sound I heard was that of a concertina!
+
+What Paula saw in my face just then I do not know, but, pallid and
+trembling, she retreated a step or two and gazed at me with wide,
+wondering eyes.
+
+The thrill of horror that passed though my body caused me to shiver.
+There was a strange, tickling sensation on my scalp and my hair felt as
+if it was rising.
+
+The notes of the concertina had broken the spell that had kept my
+memory dormant. All was clear to me now. I knew how it had come to pass
+that I had been led to fear the woman I had made my wife. The woman to
+whom I had given my love and name was Laquella--Laquella, the vampire
+of the derelict!
+
+In a voice that was so hoarse with emotion that it did not seem to be
+my own I said:
+
+“Your suspicion was well-founded, madame. The meeting in the Opera
+House was not our first.”
+
+Shrinking further from me, she murmured, with trembling lips:
+
+“Yes--yes. I remember now. You are----”
+
+With a groan of horror and anguish, I turned from the room and closed
+the door behind me. From the decks and the depths of the great vessel
+there still came the mournful cry of the stewards:
+
+“All off for the shore.”
+
+Moved by a sudden impulse, I dashed down the companionway that led
+to the deck below. There I found that several seamen already were
+beginning to run the gangplank from the vessel. I called to them to
+pause, and then shouldered my way past them. A few moments later I was
+on the pier.
+
+As I hastened toward the street, I heard a man’s voice call my name.
+Looking over my shoulder, I saw the white face and wonder-stricken
+eyes of Paula’s brother. I quickened my steps and before he caught
+up with me I was in a taxicab. In accordance with my quickly spoken
+instructions, the chauffeur started in the direction of an uptown
+hotel. Within five minutes I was satisfied that I had shaken off my
+pursuer.
+
+As soon as I was assured of my success in eluding Paula’s brother, I
+hastened to the office of my lawyer. Though I had given no thought to
+the matter at the time of my mad flight from the ship, I afterward
+recollected that my wife was provided with sufficient funds to enable
+her to return to the United States. I directed my lawyer, however, to
+cable to one of his English correspondents to meet the vessel on its
+arrival at Liverpool and to render my wife whatever assistance she
+might require. In addition to this, I placed a large sum to Paula’s
+credit in a New York bank, and caused her brother to be informed of my
+action.
+
+More than four months have passed since then, and, during this period
+my wife and I have not met, nor have we, either directly or indirectly,
+been in communication. The first two months I spent in the West, and,
+with the single exception of my lawyer, none of my friends knew my
+address. Returning then to the East, I took passage for Europe. There I
+remained until two weeks ago.
+
+I have learned that my wife embarked for New York immediately after
+her arrival in Liverpool, but neither she nor her brother has made an
+attempt to find me. The money which I placed to Paula’s credit in the
+bank has remained untouched.
+
+In conclusion, I will say that, since my flight from my wife, there
+has been scarcely an hour of the day or night, except when sleep has
+given me a respite, that my mind has not been occupied with attempts
+to find some comforting solution to the mystery which partly cloaks
+the incidents that have wrecked my life. For several weeks I could not
+free myself from the impression that I was the victim of supernatural
+agencies. Now, however, I am satisfied that Paula Trevison, perhaps
+half-crazed by privations similar to mine, was on the derelict at the
+time that I found refuge there, and that she had as a companion the old
+crone whom I heard address her as Laquella. How they came there, only
+Heaven knows, but you will recollect that I have told you that I got
+aboard the _Hannibal_ by means of a rope that hung over the side. That
+rope was of hemp, and it is obvious that it must have been fastened
+to the davit after the fire had swept the vessel. This fact indicates
+that, subsequent to the fire on the _Hannibal_, and prior to the
+sinking of the _Powhatan_, the derelict was boarded, either by persons
+who had put off in boats at the time of the fire or by others. It was,
+of course, impossible for a woman to get aboard as I did by means of
+this rope, but it is natural to infer that the rope was used for the
+ascent and descent of a seaman who may have belonged to a party that
+had a rope ladder. In that case the ladder doubtless was taken away in
+the boat that had brought it, and the rope was left hanging from the
+davit.
+
+Convinced, then, that the woman I have wed is none other than that
+Laquella, who whether mad or sane, inspired me with horror on the
+derelict _Hannibal_, I am resolved to avoid as much as possible every
+town in which I believe her to be. I do this because I fear that, if
+we were to meet again, the love with which she once inspired me would
+triumph over every principle that is allied with my self-respect, for
+in her presence I would have to combat one of the most potent spells
+which the beauty of woman ever cast over the heart of man.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As the Fugitive Bridegroom finished his story, the Nervous Physician
+leaned forward.
+
+“Are we to understand that, since your recovery from the effects of
+your privations, you have had no communication with the captain or
+other officers of the _Highland Lady_?” he asked.
+
+“I have not seen or communicated with any of them.”
+
+“But you have some reason to know that you were the only person taken
+off the derelict?”
+
+“Yes. The newspapers published the captain’s story before my identity
+was known. I was the only person rescued from the _Hannibal_.”
+
+The Homicidal Professor was the next to speak.
+
+“And you are quite certain that, prior to the loss of the _Powhatan_,
+you had not seen the young woman who is now your wife?” he asked.
+
+“Of that I am certain,” the Fugitive Bridegroom replied in a tone of
+conviction.
+
+The Homicidal Professor nodded and settled back in his chair.
+
+Westfall rose.
+
+“As I have told you, my friends, the story of the Fugitive Bridegroom
+was the first link I found to this mysterious chain, and it was for
+this reason that I placed his adventure first. In due time, and in the
+proper place, more light will be thrown on the incidents which you
+have just heard described. We cannot look for this, however, in the
+narrative which we are about to have from the Whispering Gentleman--a
+narrative which properly may be said to introduce the principals of
+this extraordinary affair.”
+
+He nodded toward the Whispering Gentleman, who forthwith proceeded in a
+loud, hoarse whisper, to describe the incidents which had resulted in
+his appearance on the Barge of Haunted Lives.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IV
+
+                         THE SHADOW OF NEMESIS
+
+
+In the insane asylums of the United States there are, at this hour,
+hundreds of persons who are no more mad than are men and women who,
+having witnessed one of the entertainments of some modern exponent of
+the art of legerdemain, soberly describe to their friends the acts that
+have excited their wonder.
+
+No man who describes the impressions made upon him by Hermann or Kellar
+is suspected of lunacy. But when such impressions are produced by some
+event or events in everyday life, the minds which receive them are
+thought to be abnormal.
+
+It was in consequence of an experience of this sort that, several
+months ago, I became an inmate of a sanitarium for the insane. In that
+institution I doubtless should have been to-day had it not been for
+the fact that its superintendent suddenly discovered that he, too, was
+being threatened by the same mysterious force which, tightening its
+grip on me, had caused me to be regarded as a madman. This discovery
+resulted in my release from the asylum; but since I left its walls
+my peril has been doubly great--so great, indeed, that the final
+catastrophe may confront me at any moment.
+
+Though my hair is white, and my hands are as palsied as those of a
+nonogenarian, I am entering only my forty-third year. Two years ago my
+hair was as black as it had been during the period of my youth, and, as
+a result of several extended periods of travel, on foot and horseback,
+in different parts of the world, I was the possessor of an excellent
+physique.
+
+My fondness for travel was developed at an early age, and shortly after
+taking my degree at a well-known university I became a member of the
+Geographical Society. I inherited a small fortune from an uncle and,
+in a modest way, made a cruise among the South Sea Islands, and to the
+East coast of Africa. There I joined a French exploring expedition,
+with which I went through the territory lying between Zanzibar and
+Victoria Nyanza. For the next ten years I found employment with
+expeditions sent to remote sections of the world by universities and
+learned societies in search of ethnological, zoological, archeological,
+and botanical information.
+
+In this manner I was able to indulge my taste for travel without
+drawing to any great extent on my private income. The credit of all my
+work has gone to those who employed me, and there are at least half a
+score of authors of popular books of travel who are indebted to me for
+much of the data which they profess to have collected themselves. But,
+loving travel for its own sake, and craving neither fame nor fortune, I
+was well content.
+
+Shortly after my return to New York from an expedition to the sites of
+some old Inca towns in South America, I was sitting in my room when my
+servant brought to me a card which bore the name “Alfred Ferguson,”
+who, I was informed, was waiting to see me. The name was unknown to me,
+but I bade the servant bring the visitor to my room.
+
+A few moments later my caller entered. He was a tall, long-limbed man,
+of about twenty-eight years of age. His long face was almost as bronzed
+as my own. He stooped slightly, and there was a slouchiness about
+his clothes and gait that gave to him a “devil-may-care” appearance
+that did not impress me favorably. His blue eyes were shrewd enough,
+however, and as, throwing aside the newspaper I had been reading, I met
+his gaze, I saw that he was looking at me with an expression that was
+frankly earnest and critical.
+
+“Mr. Ferguson?” I asked as I rose.
+
+“Yes, yes, I’m Ferguson,” he replied, half-absently. “You are Forsythe,
+the traveler, I believe.”
+
+His accent was unmistakably that of an Englishman. I nodded and moved a
+chair toward him. He seated himself deliberately and began to fumble in
+one of the pockets of his coat. From this he drew a cigar-case, which,
+when he had opened it, he offered to me. The cigars were large and as
+black as the skin of an Ethiopian. Selecting one, I thanked him and
+offered him matches.
+
+Neither of us spoke again until our cigars were lighted.
+
+“Well, now, Mr. Ferguson, what can I do for you?” I asked, pleasantly.
+
+He did not answer at once. The expression of abstraction was still
+on his face and, as I puffed on the strong cigar he had given me, I
+watched him curiously. At length, in a voice that was so sullen that
+the words seemed to be uttered against his will, he said:
+
+“I want you to go with me to India.”
+
+“To India!” I exclaimed.
+
+“Yes. We’ll start to-morrow--on the _Camperdonia_. If we leave the ship
+at Queenstown and cut across by the mail route to London, we will be
+able to get the P. & O. liner that sails to-morrow week.”
+
+“Indeed!” I murmured, coldly.
+
+My visitor, apparently discomfited by my tone, looked at me anxiously.
+
+“You have nothing else on, I hope,” he said, shortly.
+
+“Why, no--nothing in the way of a business engagement,” I replied.
+“But, before I take under consideration the proposition you have just
+made, I must, of course, know something of the purpose of the journey.”
+
+“I will explain it,” he replied, promptly. “You have been in India, I
+believe.”
+
+“Yes,” said I.
+
+“While there did you visit the district of Nauwar?” he asked.
+
+I told him I had not done so.
+
+“In that district is a village named Rajiid,” he went on.
+
+“I have heard of it,” I said. “It is there, I believe, that the statue
+known as the Eyeless Buddha is to be found.”
+
+My visitor looked at me coldly for several moments.
+
+“True,” he replied. “It is in the temple of Rajiid that the Eyeless
+Buddha is to be seen. The village is so remote from the routes of the
+average traveler, however, that I was not aware that anyone outside
+India knew of its existence.”
+
+“The little knowledge I have of the place was obtained from an old
+English colonel I met at Simla one Summer,” I explained.
+
+“What did he tell you of the Eyeless Buddha?” asked my visitor,
+carelessly.
+
+“Why, as I remember it, he told me that the statue was of bronze
+and about a thousand years old,” I answered. “It is said that the
+eye-sockets, which are empty now, at one time held diamonds of great
+value.”
+
+“Did this Colonel tell you how they came to be lost?” asked Ferguson.
+
+“They disappeared at the time of the Indian Mutiny,” I replied. “This,
+I think, constitutes all the information which I have concerning Rajiid
+and the Eyeless Buddha.”
+
+Ferguson nodded, compressed his lips slightly, then rose and crossed to
+one of the windows. As he looked out, I watched him curiously.
+
+There was something in the aspect of my visitor that impressed me more
+and more unfavorably, and I was attempting to formulate some excuse for
+my inability to undertake the journey he had proposed when he turned to
+me suddenly.
+
+“Well, Mr. Forsythe, the situation is this,” he began. “In Rajiid there
+are certain articles of exceptional archeological interest that I want
+to acquire. I doubt not that these may be purchased readily and removed
+from India by a man who already is known as a collector of such objects
+for institutions of learning. In India there is no law prohibiting the
+removal of art objects from the country, as there is in Italy, but in
+order to acquire certain of these it is often essential first to obtain
+the approval of the proper authorities. These authorities, in India,
+are known to you, and, in view of the distinction which you have won
+as a collector, they doubtless would grant to you privileges which it
+would be idle for me to seek.”
+
+“You have been in Rajiid?” I asked.
+
+“No,” he replied. “Not only have I not been in Rajiid, but I have never
+set foot in India.”
+
+“And yet you have reason to believe that this obscure village possesses
+objects of exceptional interest,” I said.
+
+He shrugged his shoulders, and, for the first time since he had entered
+the apartment, I saw him smile.
+
+“Yes,” he answered. “If you will aid me in getting possession of these
+objects, you will be well paid for your trouble.”
+
+“Ah, it is a speculative enterprise, then!” I murmured.
+
+“So far as I am concerned, perhaps it is,” he answered quickly. “You,
+however, will be sure of your reward. The task will occupy less than
+three months. If you will give me your services for that period, I will
+pay you ten thousand dollars to-day. Besides this I will place a like
+amount in a package which I will deliver to you with the understanding
+that you put it in a safe-deposit vault to which I am to have a
+duplicate key. You will not tell me, however, where this vault is to be
+found.”
+
+“Why, then, do you require the key?” I asked suspiciously.
+
+My visitor shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“It may be that you will lose yours,” he replied, with a little laugh.
+“It is not well to carry all one’s eggs in the same basket, you know.”
+
+“What is your purpose in leaving the ten thousand dollars with me?” I
+inquired.
+
+“It will be yours when our work is done,” he answered.
+
+“You are willing to leave it in my care with nothing more than a verbal
+understanding?” I asked wonderingly.
+
+“I trust you implicitly,” said he. “Your reputation is well-known to
+me. I require no better evidence of your good faith than that. Are the
+terms I propose satisfactory?”
+
+I was thoroughly interested now. The enterprise promised to be more
+remunerative than any in which I had engaged, but it was not this fact
+that appealed to me so much as the nature of the adventure itself.
+There was something in the personality of my visitor, too, that now
+excited my curiosity.
+
+“Well, Forsythe, what do you say?” he asked, as I hesitated.
+
+I rose and for several moments I thoughtfully paced to and fro.
+
+“In short, then, it is your design to try and recover the gems which
+formerly constituted the eyes of the Rajiid Buddha,” I muttered.
+
+“I have not said so,” he answered, coldly. “My object in seeking your
+services has been pretty clearly stated, I think. Your purpose will
+be to secure and bring out of India certain articles, possessing
+archeological interest, which, from time to time, I will indicate.”
+
+“I see,” I answered shortly.
+
+“You will accompany me, then?” he asked.
+
+“Yes,” I replied.
+
+“And you will be prepared to sail on the _Camperdonia_ to-morrow?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+He nodded.
+
+“The vessel sails at noon,” he said.
+
+Then, thrusting a hand into an inside pocket of his coat, he drew out a
+package and continued:
+
+“In this package you will find banknotes amounting to fifteen thousand
+dollars. Of this sum, ten thousand belongs to you. The other five
+thousand will defray the cost of your trip from New York to Bombay,
+Rajiid and thence to Bombay again.”
+
+Placing this on the table, he drew from his pocket a second package.
+
+This, he explained, contained the second ten thousand dollars which
+were to be mine on my return from India. He made me count the
+banknotes, and, as these were of large denominations, the task soon was
+completed. They amounted to the sum he had named.
+
+In accordance with his instructions, I was about to put the package in
+a box, which I took from my desk, when he asked me to slip into the box
+a little cylindrical parcel, about six inches long and three inches in
+diameter. Without questioning him as to the nature of the contents
+of the parcel, I did as he requested. The box containing the second
+ten thousand dollars and the parcel was then wrapped in a heavy piece
+of brown paper. When this had been securely tied, Ferguson produced a
+stick of sealing-wax and, sealing the knot and the sides of the little
+bundle, he pressed a seal-ring to the soft wax. When he had finished,
+he smiled gravely and placed the bundle in my hand.
+
+“Upon our return I will ask you to deliver to me, unopened, the parcel
+I have enclosed with the money,” he said. “It is only a trifle, but, as
+it is all I am leaving behind, I will be extremely obliged if you will
+see that it is cared for.”
+
+I told him that I would place the bundle in a safe-deposit vault, and
+would let him have a duplicate key on the following day.
+
+“No, you will not do that,” he replied with a little laugh. “We will
+not meet again until we are in India. Put the key in an envelope and
+address it to me at my hotel--the Claymore. A district messenger will
+deliver it.”
+
+“But are we not to sail together on the _Camperdonia_ to-morrow?” I
+asked with some surprise.
+
+“Both of us will sail on the _Camperdonia_; but, in order that even
+chance may not bring us together, you will go in the first cabin, and
+I will go in the second. It is scarcely likely that you will see me
+during the voyage. When you disembark at Queenstown, do not try to
+assure yourself that I am among those who, like you, will take the
+train and boat to Holyhead. Your movements must be entirely independent
+of mine. When you get to London, secure first-class passage by the P.
+and O. liner _Arran_ for Bombay. Though I will also be on the vessel,
+it is altogether probable that you will not see me. Before we arrive
+at our destination, however, we will be in communication.”
+
+He held out his hand, and, as I took it, he bowed gravely.
+
+“_Bon voyage_,” he said, with a smile. And a few minutes later I was
+alone, pondering over my strange commission.
+
+I began at once to make preparations for my departure. One of my first
+acts was to deposit in a bank the ten thousand dollars that had been
+advanced to me, and to place in a safe-deposit box the package that
+had been sealed by my visitor. I obtained two keys to the box, and,
+placing one of these in a pocket-book that I intended to take with me
+on my trip, I sent the other by a messenger to the Claymore. My other
+preparations for the journey, including the purchase of my steamship
+ticket, were completed by nightfall.
+
+It is unnecessary to relate any of the incidents of my voyage to
+England, for none of these had any bearing on the mission on which I
+had set out. Only once during that voyage did I find any evidence of
+Ferguson’s presence on the vessel. This was about ten o’clock at night,
+on our third day out. On this occasion I saw him standing alone on the
+moonlit deck, in the second cabin section. As he turned to go below our
+glances met for a moment, but he vouchsafed no sign of recognition.
+
+Upon disembarking at Queenstown I saw my employer on the tender which
+was to take us to the shore, but he was then looking in another
+direction, and, in order to avoid him, I went aft. Though he doubtless
+was on the train that carried me through Ireland, I did not see him,
+and it was in vain that I looked for him on the boat that took me from
+Dublin to Holyhead, and on the train from Holyhead to London.
+
+The following day found me aboard the _Arran_, bound for Bombay. On
+the second day out I became acquainted with Frank Blakeslee, a young
+Englishman. He was an affable sort of chap, and though he, rather
+than I, made the advances which resulted in our almost constant
+companionship, I soon discovered that he had little disposition to
+become acquainted with other passengers.
+
+Moved by a curiosity which I found to be irresistible, I made several
+quiet attempts to learn whether Ferguson was on the ship. As was the
+case on the _Camperdonia_, his name did not appear on either the first
+or second cabin lists, and, despite the instructions he had given to
+me, I once went so far as to stroll through the second cabin saloons
+and smoking-room in an attempt to reassure myself concerning his
+presence on the vessel. All efforts to get a trace of him were vain.
+
+It was not till we had passed through the Suez Canal that all my
+doubts were set at rest. Then the revelation of Ferguson’s presence
+came to me in a manner and from a source so wholly unexpected that the
+intelligence fairly staggered me.
+
+I was walking the deck shortly before luncheon, when I saw Blakeslee
+approaching me. His face was grave, and I observed at once that there
+was a nervousness in his manner that I had not remarked before.
+
+“What is the matter, man?” I asked. “Is this heat knocking you out?”
+
+He muttered two or three words incoherently, and glanced quickly to
+right and left, as if to assure himself that we were alone. Then,
+pausing beside me, he said in a low voice:
+
+“Ferguson won’t join us at Bombay. We’ll have to look for him at
+Aurungabad.”
+
+I gave a start, and looked at him wonderingly.
+
+“Then you know that----” I began.
+
+“Yes, yes--I know everything,” he said, interrupting me impatiently.
+
+“Is anything wrong?” I asked apprehensively.
+
+“Yes--no,” he faltered. “Well, there’s a Hindu aboard who has just
+committed suicide. They’ll be dropping him overboard presently, I
+suppose.”
+
+There was something in his manner--in his increasing nervousness and in
+his eyes, which were gleaming with excitement, that caused a feeling of
+foreboding to steal over me.
+
+“Ferguson is aboard?” I muttered.
+
+“Oh, yes--he’s aboard,” Blakeslee said, dryly, as he turned away.
+
+When I found myself again alone I fell to wondering whether the dead
+Hindu had been a friend or an enemy of Ferguson’s. That he was either
+the one or the other I did not for a minute doubt.
+
+I did not see Blakeslee again that day. From a steward I learned that
+his meals were being served to him in his room. It soon became apparent
+that if, indeed, a Hindu had committed suicide on the vessel, the fact
+was being guarded as a secret.
+
+We were then in the Red Sea, and the day was, I think, the most sultry
+I had ever known. Only after nightfall did the passengers go out on
+deck. When I turned into my berth, about ten o’clock, I soon found the
+atmosphere of my stateroom so stifling that it was impossible for me to
+sleep.
+
+About eleven o’clock I rose, donned a light linen suit and went out on
+deck. There I found scores of my fellow passengers tossing restlessly
+as they lay on steamer chairs, and in a few minutes I was doing
+likewise.
+
+It was well after midnight when, waking from a brief and troubled
+sleep, I saw that many of the passengers had left the deck. I rose
+impatiently and, crossing to the rail, I leaned over it and gazed down
+at the water. I had been in this position for several minutes when I
+heard the sounds of low voices and shuffling feet on the deck below.
+Suddenly these were stilled, and I saw a dark object being thrust
+slowly over the rail of the deck.
+
+In a moment the significance of the situation became clear to me. The
+body of the dead Hindu was about to be committed to the sea.
+
+All was over in a few moments. The board on which lay the shotted sack,
+with its gruesome burden, was soon run out. There was a splash--a
+little trail of bubbles moving swiftly astern, to be lost in the
+white wake of the vessel, and the thing was done. None of the other
+passengers on the deck on which I stood was aware of the fact that a
+sea burial had now become one of the incidents of the voyage.
+
+It was not until the following afternoon that I again met Blakeslee,
+who, on this occasion, greeted me with much of his former cheerfulness.
+
+“Well, how is our friend to-day?” I asked quietly, after we had
+exchanged a few commonplace remarks.
+
+An expression of sullenness crossed his face as he answered shortly:
+
+“I don’t know.”
+
+“You haven’t seen him since yesterday?” I persisted.
+
+“I have not seen him since we came aboard the _Arran_,” he replied.
+
+“But--well, then, how did you know about that Hindu they buried last
+night?” I asked.
+
+“Because it has been one of my tasks to watch all Hindus on this
+vessel, and it has been no easy matter, I assure you. There are more
+than thirty of them, but I think the one that died yesterday was the
+only one we had to fear.”
+
+For several moments neither of us spoke. I was the first to break the
+silence.
+
+“Are we likely to encounter others whom we will have to--fear?” I asked.
+
+Blakeslee laughed unpleasantly.
+
+“I’m afraid we won’t be altogether popular with some of the natives of
+the country,” he answered. “Still, I don’t think there is much that we
+really will have to fear. So long as we are successful in our attempts
+to prevent the brown men from learning the nature of our business, I
+daresay there will be no trouble.”
+
+“Well, if you and Ferguson are as successful in keeping that secret
+from those fellows as you are in your efforts to keep it from me, there
+is little doubt that all trouble will be averted,” I said gravely.
+
+Blakeslee shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Everything will be made clear to you soon enough,” he answered,
+abstractedly. “The task that confronts us is comparatively simple, and
+I doubt not that Ferguson has explained to you all that it will be
+necessary for you to know in order that you may act intelligently. He
+wishes you to purchase, and to get out of India, certain articles that
+appear to have little intrinsic value, but which natives may try to
+prevent us from taking away.”
+
+“Our quest may prove hazardous, then,” I said.
+
+“Oh, yes,” Blakeslee answered, cheerfully, “it is likely to prove quite
+hazardous, but, from what I have heard of you, Mr. Forsythe, I should
+infer that you are scarcely likely to balk at it for that reason.”
+
+“I am not inclined to balk at it,” I retorted, “but, like most men,
+I prefer meeting danger in the light rather than in the dark. A man
+always fights better when his enemies and their methods are known to
+him.”
+
+Blakeslee was silent for several moments, then, with a sigh, he said:
+
+“Well, Forsythe, India is a remarkable country, and some of its people
+have peculiar mental qualities which enable them to do strange things.
+That there is something concerning our enterprise that Ferguson has not
+told you, I will not deny. Though he has implicit confidence in you, he
+has excellent reasons for withholding the secret from you. In your own
+interest, as well as his and mine, it is best that you should not know
+it now. Believe me, if that knowledge was yours it would be difficult
+for you to keep from revealing it to those persons from whom we have
+most to fear.”
+
+Despite a natural feeling of resentment, I affected to treat the matter
+lightly, and the conversation soon turned to other subjects.
+
+The city of Bombay was in sight before I received the promised
+communication from Ferguson. This came to me through Blakeslee, who,
+entering the stateroom in which I was packing my things, said in a low
+voice:
+
+“I met Ferguson last night, and I am afraid we have plenty of trouble
+cut out for us. He will not accompany us to Rajiid.”
+
+“He will not?” I exclaimed in a tone of disappointment. “The expedition
+is off, then?”
+
+“Not at all,” Blakeslee replied. “In order to give him an opportunity
+to precede us, we will remain for three days at Bombay. This will give
+you time to renew your acquaintance with the Indian authorities, and to
+let it be known that you have come to India for the purpose of adding
+to some American museum a collection of Indian curiosities. Make as
+much stir about it as you like. The better known you are, the more
+likely you will be to prove successful in your quest. As I have served
+in the Indian army, and as I am familiar with the country’s language
+and modes of travel, we may cause it to be understood that you have
+employed me to aid you in obtaining certain data that you seek.”
+
+To this plan I readily assented, and as soon as we were landed in
+Bombay I at once proceeded to put it into execution.
+
+Except for such incidents as might have befallen other travelers, our
+journey to Rajiid was comparatively uneventful. It took us nine days,
+and when we arrived at our destination we found a miserable little town
+which, having been visited by a plague the year before, had been nearly
+depopulated by death and desertion.
+
+The temple was easily found, and, as Blakeslee was confident that we
+soon would get some word from Ferguson, we established our quarters in
+a dak-bungalow on the outskirts of the village.
+
+With us we had brought eight native attendants, nearly all of whom were
+Brahmins. We had fourteen sturdy horses, and we believed that two of
+these would be sufficient to bear away all the articles which we would
+have occasion to purchase during our sojourn in the village.
+
+We were not long in discovering that, rapid as had been our progress, a
+stranger, answering Ferguson’s description, had arrived at the village
+two days before and, after visiting the temple, had disappeared. We
+also learned that he had seemed to manifest little interest in what he
+had seen.
+
+Accompanied by Blakeslee, I visited the temple a few hours after our
+arrival in the village. It was a small, unpretentious affair, and a
+mere glance at the dilapidated structure was enough to convince me that
+it had constituted only a small part of the original building. In it,
+however, stood the idol known as the Eyeless Buddha.
+
+In this figure the founder of the religion which bears his name was
+represented as sitting cross-legged on a rug, with his folded hands
+lying in his lap. The figure was of dark bronze, and measured about
+eight feet from the top of the head to the top of the stone pedestal
+on which it was resting. The heavy eyelids were partly lowered, and
+under each was a dark orifice which, it was apparent, at one time had
+contained some object that was designed to represent a human eye. These
+empty sockets had given to the figure the name by which it now was
+known--the Eyeless Buddha. The statue was more crudely molded than many
+other images of Buddha I had seen, but the sullen features and eyeless
+sockets of this gave to it a sinister expression which, for a few
+moments, excited within me a sensation of awe.
+
+Like all temples in India, this had its quota of persistent beggars
+and fakirs. Among these we distributed a couple of handfuls of small
+coins, but the money, so far from granting us immunity from their
+importunities, caused them to thrust their disgusting hands still
+closer to our faces and redouble their cries.
+
+Apprehensive lest an exhibition of violence would excite the resentment
+of persons whose favor it was desirable that we should win, Blakeslee
+and I restrained our attendants, who were preparing to use sticks in an
+attempt to drive off our annoyers.
+
+Suddenly, however, the clamor of the mendicants grew still. The throng
+drew back, and from it issued the figure of an old native, who wore a
+white turban and loin-cloth. His face, almost as brown as mahogany,
+was partly covered by a scanty white beard. His eyes were deep-set,
+searching, and crafty.
+
+I had little doubt that the man who thus challenged our attention was
+a jaboowallah, one of India’s miracle-working fakirs, and such he
+soon proved to be. He besought us to allow him to give an exhibition
+of his powers, and though we had seen most of the tricks practised by
+members of his class, we granted him the permission he sought. The
+tricks he showed us are common enough to all visitors to India--tricks
+which, though hundreds of thousands have seen them, never have been
+satisfactorily explained to Europeans.
+
+This jaboowallah was neither better nor worse than a score of others we
+had seen before. We saw him plant a mango seed, and within six minutes
+it had grown, flowered, and borne fruit before our eyes. Then we beheld
+him seated cross-legged in the air, apparently without support, four
+or five feet above the surface of the ground. Later he placed a ring
+in Blakeslee’s hand. In a few minutes this was dust, then virgin gold
+again.
+
+When all was done, we gave a few coins to the jaboowallah, and, in
+consideration of the fact that the payment was rather in excess of
+that usually given by travelers, we asked him to keep the crowd of
+mendicants away from us--a task which he performed to our satisfaction.
+
+That night there came to the dak-bungalow a half-naked Parsee. This
+man gave to me a letter, written in English, and bearing the name of
+Ferguson. The letter was as follows:--
+
+  The bearer of this is Ahmed-Kal, a Parsee, the only person I have met
+  in this sun-baked land of snakes who can be trusted. Communicate with
+  me through him.
+
+  The articles I want you to purchase are the brazier and the two
+  green jade images in the shrine. Be sure to land the one with the
+  protruding tongue in the niche near the roof. This must be obtained
+  without fail, and, when you get it, keep a careful eye on it, but do
+  not let anyone suspect that you set any great value on it. Deliver
+  this to me outside of India, and the ten thousand dollars I left
+  with you are yours.
+
+  Offer only a small price at first for the brazier and images.
+  Brahminism has practically ousted Buddhism from this locality and one
+  easily could buy the Eyeless Buddha itself for little more than a
+  song, were it not for the fact that it is supposed that one day its
+  presence here will attract travelers.
+
+  I will send Ahmed-Kal to you to-morrow night to learn whether or not
+  you have secured the articles I have named. Be prepared to set out
+  for Calcutta early the following morning. I will not accompany you,
+  and I doubt whether I will see you in India.
+
+  Burn this note at once. Do not write to me. Ahmed-Kal will report to
+  me that he has seen you.
+
+                                                      (signed) FERGUSON.
+
+I nodded to Ahmed-Kal as I finished reading. He bowed profoundly, but
+made no move to go. When I asked him why he waited, he replied in a
+voice which, though respectful, was expressive of reproach:
+
+“The sahib has not burned it.”
+
+I quickly held the paper over a lighted candle, but not till the last
+charred corner of the letter fell from my fingers did Ferguson’s
+punctilious messenger withdraw from the bungalow.
+
+On the morrow I visited the temple again, and had no difficulty in
+identifying the objects which Ferguson had directed me to purchase.
+The brazier was about three feet high, and was an admirable example of
+Indian art.
+
+The two jade idols, both of which stood in niches near the dilapidated
+roof, were companion-pieces, about fourteen inches in height, each
+measuring about eight inches across the shoulders. The figures were
+grotesque, one being that of a big-bellied man, with a diabolical
+leer; while the other, somewhat similar in design, had an impudently
+protruding tongue. The grotesque appearance of the images was increased
+by a large number of cracks, which indicated that they had been
+shattered and their fragments cemented together.
+
+As soon as I told the temple’s custodian that I was a collector of
+jade idols, he hastened to remove these from their niches and began to
+descant on their merits.
+
+“But these are not for sale,” I remarked.
+
+“The temple needs rupees, sahib,” replied the priest in a soft,
+insinuating voice.
+
+When I offered twenty silver rupees for the pair he demanded forty. We
+finally agreed on twenty-five rupees. The brazier I obtained for thirty
+rupees, and to this collection I added several small bronze and jade
+images, which I thought might serve as paper-weights for my friends.
+The priest and I then parted cordially, and several of my native
+attendants, bearing my purchases, accompanied Blakeslee and me back to
+the dak-bungalow.
+
+Thus far my enterprise had been successful, and on the way from the
+temple to the bungalow Blakeslee and I chatted cheerfully, but, owing
+to the presence of our attendants, the subject of our quest was not
+referred to.
+
+As Blakeslee and I entered the bungalow, to seek protection from the
+heat and blinding glare of the sun, I saw a change come over the face
+of my companion. His features became suddenly haggard, and there was a
+strange glitter in his eyes.
+
+“Well, Forsythe, for better or for worse we’re in for it now,” he said
+in a low voice that trembled slightly with emotion.
+
+I looked at him wonderingly.
+
+“What, in Heaven’s name, is depressing you now?” I asked, irritably.
+“Have we not succeeded, almost without making a real effort, in getting
+the articles we sought? As soon as we get word to Ferguson that we have
+carried out his instructions, we will start for home. The letters which
+I obtained from the government officials at Bombay will assure us safe
+conduct.”
+
+Blakeslee glanced at me half-contemptuously.
+
+“My dear fellow, our fight is just about to begin,” he said,
+thoughtfully. “Neither Ferguson nor I looked for trouble on the
+journey here, nor did Ferguson fear that you would have any difficulty
+in obtaining the articles which now are in your possession. To be
+perfectly frank with you, the value of these is as unknown to me as it
+is to you.”
+
+With a glance toward the corner of the room in which lay, like a heap
+of junk, the articles I had purchased that morning, I went to the
+door and looked out. Our attendants were unsaddling and watering our
+horses at the foot of the hill, and the space around the bungalow was
+deserted. Turning back to the room in which Blakeslee, with his hands
+clasped over one of his knees, was sitting on a rude table, I spoke.
+
+“Ferguson is seeking those lost eyes of the Buddha?” I said.
+
+Blakeslee gazed at me fixedly, but did not answer.
+
+“Has it not occurred to you that they may be concealed in the two jade
+images that our friend is so anxious to obtain?” I asked.
+
+My companion’s gaze fell thoughtfully to the floor.
+
+“It has occurred to me, of course,” he answered quietly, after a
+pause. “But I have rejected the idea. I am inclined to believe that
+Ferguson is using us simply as a blind to cover other movements that
+he has afoot. The images do not appear to be any more important
+than the brazier, which, as a mere glance at it will assure you, is
+not constructed in a manner that will allow it to conceal anything.
+Ferguson is a pretty clever strategist, and I have reasons to suspect
+that, before we get through with this thing, we will find that he is
+trying to attain his object by means of crossed trails.”
+
+“What reason is there for crossing trails when my reputation and the
+arrangements I have made with the government officials appear to give
+us a clear course to Calcutta?” I asked.
+
+Blakeslee shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I’m hanged if I know, Forsythe,” he muttered, abstractedly. “Ferguson
+is a queer fellow, and he’s pretty deep. The thing that puzzles me most
+is the fact that he is in India. For the last two years he has been
+watched by spies. That was one of them they dropped overboard from the
+_Arran_. If these two idols and the brazier were the only things he
+wanted here, why did he not send us to get them, and keep away himself?”
+
+“Well,” I began, but he stopped me with a gesture.
+
+“We’ve got to cut out this sort of talk,” he said, impatiently. “We
+have the stuff we sought, and now the thing is up to Ferguson. If we
+continue to speculate like this on the subject, some long-eared native,
+who may be lurking about, will overhear us and the game will be up.
+The fight’s on now and we must make the best of it. Open eyes and
+silent tongues constitute the order of the day, so we’d better bar the
+talking.”
+
+At noon we had our luncheon. Then, after telling our attendants to rest
+for the remainder of the day, in order that they might be prepared to
+take the road before sunrise on the following morning, Blakeslee and I
+stretched ourselves on our rugs. After a brief period of restlessness I
+fell asleep.
+
+It was twilight when I woke. Blakeslee was still asleep, and I glanced
+apprehensively towards where our morning’s purchases lay heaped
+carelessly in the corner, with one of our saddles resting on top of
+the pile. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed, but I resolved that
+while Blakeslee and I remained in India one should keep awake while the
+other slept.
+
+An hour later we sat down to our evening meal, and then proceeded to
+await the arrival of Ahmed-Kal.
+
+It was nearly midnight, and all our attendants were asleep, when
+Blakeslee and I, seated within the dak-bungalow, saw by the light of
+the moon the figure of a native, in a half-crouching attitude, dart
+towards the door.
+
+“Well?” I demanded, rising quickly.
+
+The man started at the sound of my voice, and, as he looked toward me,
+I saw that our visitor was Ahmed-Kal. Drawing back a couple of paces,
+he crossed his arms over his face.
+
+Alarmed by the man’s strange attitude, I addressed him impatiently.
+
+“Well, why do you not speak?” I asked.
+
+With a low, sharp cry the Parsee, lurching forward, sank to the earth
+and, crawling to my feet, he scraped up a handful of sand from the
+ground and scattered it over his head.
+
+Grasping him by one of his naked shoulders I shook him vigorously.
+
+“Speak, man--your master--what has happened to him?” I demanded.
+
+The Parsee gave utterance to a series of incoherent sentences, then he
+again crossed his arms over his face.
+
+Again I seized him and shook his shoulders.
+
+“Where is the Ferguson sahib?” I asked, in a threatening voice.
+
+“They’ve killed him,” whimpered Ahmed-Kal.
+
+“Killed him!” Blakeslee and I exclaimed together.
+
+“Even so,” moaned the Parsee.
+
+The eyes that Blakeslee turned on me were dilated with horror.
+
+“Dead--Ferguson!” he muttered. “No, no, no! This man----”
+
+“Not dead, sahib--not dead, for he still speaks,” Ahmed-Kal interrupted.
+
+We looked at the Parsee with expressions of bewilderment.
+
+“You said he was killed?” I suggested.
+
+“Even so, sahib. They have killed him, but he still speaks, and he bade
+me summon you to come and see the end.”
+
+“How the dev--” Blakeslee began.
+
+“There’s no use standing here trying to get rational answers from the
+fool,” I interrupted. “Let’s mount and follow where he leads.”
+
+Our horses soon were saddled. Preceded by Ahmed-Kal and followed by two
+of our servants, Blakeslee and I set out in search of Ferguson.
+
+As we advanced in this manner, Ahmed-Kal, from time to time, manifested
+signs of the most abject fear. His trembling, groans and sudden starts
+at length had such an effect on my nerves that, like him, I fancied, at
+times, that I saw dark figures flitting among the thickets we passed.
+
+Once a piercing wail, coming from a point about a hundred yards distant
+from the road, so startled Blakeslee and me that we drew in our
+bridle-reins with a force that almost caused our horses to go down on
+their haunches.
+
+“It is only the cry of a jackal, sahib,” said one of our servants
+reassuringly.
+
+Even as the man spoke, we saw a small, wolfish form loping from one
+thicket to another, but it was several minutes before the feeling of
+creepiness passed away and our heartbeats again became normal.
+
+At the expiration of a half hour we came in view of a little grove of
+trees, among which the walls of a small temple gleamed white in the
+moonlight. To this temple a narrow path led from the road by which
+we approached the place. At the path Ahmed-Kal drew rein. Then, after
+dismounting, he came to me.
+
+“This ground is sacred, sahib,” he explained. “None save uncovered feet
+may tread this path.”
+
+I nodded; then Blakeslee and I alighted and, after directing our
+attendants to await our return, we commanded Ahmed-Kal to lead the way.
+
+“What are we in for now, I wonder?” Blakeslee muttered. “I’ve got this
+trembling fool covered with my gun, and if he’s up to any of his Hindu
+tricks it will be his last, I promise you.”
+
+Following our guide, we had gone about a couple of hundred paces when
+Blakeslee seized me by the arm.
+
+“Look!” he cried.
+
+We were now in a little open space in the grove that surrounded the
+temple, and, glancing in the direction that Blakeslee had indicated,
+I saw, in one of the corners of this space, a human figure seated
+cross-legged on a white cloth. The figure was as immovable as one of
+those statues of Buddha which are to be seen everywhere in India, and
+the shadow cast by one of the swaying branches of a tree gave to it an
+uncanny aspect that chilled my blood.
+
+Blakeslee and I, followed by Ahmed-Kal, moved forward uncertainly.
+
+“It’s Ferguson!” exclaimed Blakeslee in a hoarse whisper.
+
+We quickened our steps, and in a few moments we halted before the
+motionless and silent figure of our friend.
+
+Neither by word nor sign did Ferguson bespeak a recognition of our
+presence. His face was deadly pale, and there was an expression of
+stupor in his eyes.
+
+“Ferguson!” I said, in a low, awed voice; and, as I spoke, I was about
+to lay a hand on his shoulder to rouse him from his apparent lethargy.
+
+“Stop!” he commanded sharply. “Don’t touch me, Forsythe. Step round in
+front of me. I cannot turn my head.”
+
+“What’s the matter, old man?” Blakeslee asked. “What have they done to
+you? That fool, Ahmed-Kal, told us that you had been murdered.”
+
+Ferguson hesitated a few moments before he replied.
+
+“Ahmed-Kal was right. I have been slain.”
+
+“What madness is this?” I demanded, impatiently.
+
+“It is not madness, but truth,” Ferguson answered, sadly. “I have been
+slain.”
+
+Blakeslee and I exchanged glances of horror. It was plain that our
+friend had lost his reason.
+
+“Come, come, Ferguson, you would not have us believe that we are
+talking with your ghost,” said Blakeslee, indulgently.
+
+“No,” replied Ferguson, deliberately. “But, to all intents and
+purposes, I am a dead man. Were I to move my body, ever so slightly,
+the next moment would find me a corpse at your feet. The fact is, I
+have been decapitated. Though my head has been completely severed from
+my body, it has been done in such a manner that, while no human skill
+can save my life, I cannot die except by my own act.”
+
+Turning his haggard face to mine, Blakeslee said, quietly:
+
+“Come, Forsythe, we must get him out of this.”
+
+Ferguson heard the words.
+
+“Stop--Forsythe--Blakeslee!” he protested quickly. “Let there be no
+mistake. Blakeslee, strike a match; then examine my neck and tell me
+what you see.”
+
+With trembling hands, Blakeslee drew out his matchbox and struck a
+match. By the light of this we saw a thin, dark, threadlike line that
+completely encircled the neck of our friend. From the line there had
+exuded drops of blood which had trickled down to Ferguson’s collar.
+
+With faces as pallid as that of our friend, Blakeslee and I drew back a
+couple of paces. The silence that followed was broken by Ferguson.
+
+“Well?” he asked.
+
+“It’s bleeding a little,” Blakeslee replied, speaking thickly.
+
+“It was good of you to answer my summons so promptly,” Ferguson went
+on. “Brief as our acquaintance has been, I was overjoyed to learn
+yesterday that chance had led you to India and that you were in this
+neighborhood. I had intended to seek you yesterday afternoon, but,
+before I could put my plan into execution, I met with the adventure
+which Fate had ordained should be my last.”
+
+As he paused, Blakeslee and I gazed at him searchingly. Was the man
+mad, or was he playing a part? Were the words he was addressing to us
+now reaching ears other than our own?
+
+“What was the nature of the adventure?” I asked.
+
+“Having been brought to India by certain business matters,” Ferguson
+continued, “I was tempted to travel a bit through the country. Several
+years ago I heard a traveler describe the Eyeless Buddha of Rajiid,
+and tell its strange story. Being in this neighborhood, I decided, a
+few days ago, to visit the shrine. It did not interest me greatly, and
+I was continuing on my way when I was halted to-day by a company of
+natives. These took me before a jaboowallah, who, on the day before,
+had performed some of his tricks before me at Rajiid. This man charged
+me with an attempt to find and take out of the country the lost
+diamonds which, many years before, formed the eyes of the Buddha. I
+protested my innocence, but to no avail.
+
+“Professing to believe that I already had found the hiding-place of
+the diamonds, and had obtained possession of the stones, several
+natives, in accordance with the direction of the jaboowallah, searched
+my garments, and then subjected me to the most excruciating tortures
+in an attempt to wring from me information concerning the diamonds. In
+this attempt they failed, of course; for, though I had heard the story
+of the lost gems, the idea of attempting to find them never entered my
+mind.
+
+“At length my captors ceased their efforts, and, after granting me
+a rest of several hours, they brought me here, where I was again
+confronted by the jaboowallah. I was compelled to seat myself on this
+cloth and was told to prepare myself for death.
+
+“Taking a sword, the jaboowallah whirled it several times through the
+air, and then--then I was reduced to the plight in which you find me.
+
+“Though I felt the blade pass through my neck, I retained
+consciousness. My head did not fall, and my gaze was riveted on the
+mocking face of the jaboowallah as he drew back from me. He told me
+then that, though my head had been severed from my shoulders, I should
+not die save only by own act--that a single movement might result in
+the extinction of life. Then, with a devil-like laugh, he told me I
+might go when or where I listed.
+
+“I replied that, since this was impossible, my only wish was that I
+might be able to have my friends informed of my death. To this end, I
+asked permission to send for you, who, as I had been informed in the
+morning, were in the vicinity. He hesitated, but finally granted me
+the favor that I asked.
+
+“Ahmed-Kal, my Parsee servant, was standing near, and I bade him go
+to you, after I had received the jaboowallah’s assurance that no
+harm should befall you. And I thank Heaven that you and your friend
+Blakeslee have come at last.”
+
+There was a pause; then I asked, nervously:
+
+“What is it you would have us do?”
+
+“Merely report my death to Ormond Dulmer, my solicitor, in London. You
+will easily find him. You will do this?”
+
+I hesitated; then I turned to the trembling Ahmed-Kal.
+
+“Bid our attendants come here as quickly as they can,” I said to him.
+“They are armed and----”
+
+“Stop!” cried Ferguson. “Ahmed-Kal, stay here.”
+
+The Parsee, with a little cry, sank to the ground and crawled toward
+Ferguson’s feet.
+
+Drawing my revolver, I turned toward where I had left our attendants
+in the road. Then, raising my voice, I called one of them by name,
+intending to direct him to hurry to me with his companions.
+
+“Stop--Forsythe--fool!” cried Ferguson desperately.
+
+His words prevented me from hearing any response that might have been
+made to my summons. Giving no heed to his protest, I called again.
+
+The sound had scarcely left my lips when Blakeslee’s revolver flashed.
+For a moment the report dazed me; then, as I saw Blakeslee being set
+upon and borne down by four or five dark figures, who seemed to have
+issued from the ground, I raised my own weapon. But it was too late.
+Before my finger drew the trigger, a violent blow fell on my head. A
+thousand glints of light flashed before my eyes; and, as I blindly
+turned toward my assailant, a second blow felled me to the ground and
+I became unconscious.
+
+When I regained my senses, I was lying on the spot on which I had
+fallen. My head was throbbing slightly, and, as I opened my eyes, I saw
+the moon still was shining, but that the persons who had been around
+me when I fell were gone. As I started to rise, I was conscious of a
+pungent, sweet flavor in my mouth, and of a dull pain and sensation of
+fullness in my throat. My breathing was quick and labored.
+
+Rising to a sitting posture, I saw, only a couple of paces away, the
+white cloth on which I last had seen Ferguson. He, like Blakeslee
+and the natives, had disappeared; but in the middle of the cloth lay
+something which, arresting my gaze, inspired me with fear and horror.
+Rising to my feet, I moved toward it.
+
+It was the severed head of Ahmed-Kal!
+
+Breathing heavily, I took the path leading to the road in which
+Blakeslee and I had left our attendants. As I walked on, the sensation
+of fullness in my throat became more and more distressing. My tongue
+was swollen, and I was tortured by thirst and hunger.
+
+As I drew near the road, I saw our horses, with our servants beside
+them. A glance at the little company revealed the fact that Blakeslee
+was not there.
+
+Turning to one of the natives, I attempted to ask him why he and his
+companions had not responded to my call, but no sound issued from my
+lips, and the effort to speak racked my throat.
+
+At length I succeeded in whispering weakly:
+
+“Blakeslee Sahib? Have you seen him?”
+
+The native addressed shook his head negatively.
+
+“The sahib has not returned,” he said.
+
+As I glanced at the faces of the natives, I saw that a strange
+sullenness had come upon them, and instinct told me they were not to
+be trusted in an attempt to attack those who had obeyed the commands
+of the jaboowallah. Accordingly, I mounted my horse and, with my
+attendants, returned to the dak-bungalow.
+
+In the bungalow I found things in the same order in which I had left
+them. Despite my hunger, the condition of my throat made it impossible
+for me to swallow anything else than biscuits soaked in beef-tea. When
+this meal was finished, physical and mental exhaustion compelled me
+to lie down before I had succeeded in formulating any definite plan
+for the morrow. I knew that there was no English-speaking official
+within forty miles of me, and it was doubtful whether, in my present
+condition, I could accomplish such a journey over rough Indian roads in
+less than a couple of days.
+
+Scarcely had I lain down when one of my servants appeared.
+
+“Will the sahib leave Rajiid before sunrise?” he asked.
+
+“No,” I whispered. “We will wait.”
+
+The man left the room, and I composed myself for sleep. I had just
+sunk in a troubled doze, however, when I was aroused by someone who
+was shaking me gently. As I opened my eyes, I saw, by candlelight, the
+face of the jaboowallah, who, as I had good reason to believe, was
+responsible for the misfortune that had befallen my friends and myself.
+
+“The sahib need not rise,” said the jaboowallah gravely.
+
+But, giving no heed to his words, I sat up on the blanket on which I
+had been lying.
+
+“What are you doing here?” I demanded in a whisper that caused my
+throat to throb with pain.
+
+“I have come to the sahib to warn him,” my visitor replied. “If he
+returns to his own country at once, no further evil will come to him;
+but if he tarries in India, or causes the white king’s soldiers to come
+to Rajiid, he must die; and it is as easy for the holy men to kill him
+in Calcutta as it is to kill him here.”
+
+“Where is my friend--Blakeslee Sahib?” I asked.
+
+“He attempted to slay those who had punished one who came to us to
+desecrate our shrines--to take from us a priceless stone which did not
+belong to him.”
+
+“You miserable murderer--” I began, but, with hardening features, the
+jaboowallah interrupted me.
+
+“It was an evil hour that the man who came to steal learned that
+Forsythe Sahib and his friend were traveling here,” he said. “But now
+Forsythe Sahib must go his way alone, nor pause, except for rest, until
+he is on the vessel which is to take him home. He cannot bring the
+dead to life any more than he can recover that power of speech which
+has left him. What is written is written, and what is done is done. By
+sunrise the sahib must be on his way.”
+
+As he finished speaking, the jaboowallah blew out the candle that he
+held; then he passed out of the door.
+
+I sank back on my blanket, and for several minutes I lay inert.
+Convinced that the jaboowallah had spoken truth, and that my poor
+friends were indeed dead, I realized my helplessness. I was alone among
+strangers of another race, and there was little doubt that, in a sense,
+the jaboowallah had justice on his side.
+
+Ferguson had come to take from a sacred shrine a pair of precious gems
+to which he had no claim. It was perfectly apparent that he knew the
+adventure was fraught with peril. He had taken chances, and had failed.
+With me, however, guilty though I was, the case was somewhat different.
+The jaboowallah believed me to be innocent of complicity with Ferguson.
+Why, then, had he caused me to be subjected to treatment which was
+responsible for the loss of my voice?
+
+When I had returned to the bungalow, I lighted a candle and, with
+the aid of a pocket-mirror, examined my neck. There was nothing on
+the outside of my throat to indicate that it had been wounded. I
+then had fancied that my inability to speak had been caused by rough
+treatment after the last blow had robbed me of consciousness; but the
+jaboowallah, apparently cognizant of the nature of my injury, had told
+me that my voice had gone forever.
+
+At length, despite my mental turmoil, I succumbed to fatigue and
+physical weakness, and slept.
+
+Once again I was awakened by a hand that grasped my shoulder,
+and I saw, bending over me, with a candle in his hand, one of my
+attendants--the one who, a few hours before, had asked me whether I
+intended to set out on my journey before sunrise. Before I had time to
+ask him why he had awakened me, he spoke.
+
+“The horses are saddled, sahib,” he said quietly.
+
+“What time is it?” I asked.
+
+“Two hours before sunrise, sahib.”
+
+As I looked at him searchingly, his gaze fell.
+
+“Who bade you prepare for the journey?” I asked.
+
+“The jaboowallah, sahib,” he answered.
+
+Conscious of my inability to offer resistance to the power that had
+robbed me of my friends and of my voice, I nodded and rose. Glancing
+toward the corner in which had been heaped the articles which, in
+accordance with Ferguson’s directions, I had purchased at the temple, I
+saw that they were gone.
+
+Apparently the man did not observe my glance, for he vouchsafed no
+explanation, and I asked no further questions.
+
+Before leaving the bungalow I ate more moistened biscuits, and then
+went out to where the little company of attendants awaited me. These
+were already in their saddles; and, when I was mounted, all of us moved
+away from the bungalow.
+
+As we came to the outskirts of the village I saw the figure of a man
+standing beside the road. Drawing nearer, I recognized the jaboowallah.
+As our eyes met, the wonder-worker quickly sank to the ground and
+prostrated himself at the roadside as I rode by. He was still on the
+ground when a turn in the road hid him from our view.
+
+With the exception of two incidents, my journey to Calcutta was
+uneventful. The first of these incidents occurred shortly after sunrise
+on the morning I left Rajiid. Glancing behind me I saw four led
+horses. The loads borne by three of these constituted, as I knew, the
+impedimenta we had taken with us to Rajiid. The fourth load, however,
+was covered, and I asked one of the natives what the pack contained.
+
+The man looked at me with an expression of surprise as he answered:
+
+“They are the brazier and the idols purchased from the priest at the
+Rajiid temple.”
+
+I made no answer, but an hour later I directed the servants to quicken
+their pace, and for the next four days we moved even more rapidly than
+we had done on our journey to Rajiid.
+
+The second incident occurred three days before my arrival at Calcutta.
+Ever since landing in India I had kept a diary in which I had recorded
+briefly each day’s incidents, being careful, of course, to make no
+mention of anything that had to do with the real object of my journey.
+On the day I have mentioned, I just had finished making an entry when
+an official returned to me my passport, which he had viséd. The date on
+this was the twenty-seventh of the month, while the entry I had made in
+the diary was dated the twenty-fifth. I called the man’s attention to
+what I then believed to be his error. He smiled and shook his head.
+
+“It is the twenty-seventh, sir,” he said.
+
+I bowed, and he left me. Turning over the pages of the diary, I was
+unable to find that I had made a mistake in dating the entries; then an
+idea occurred to me, and I turned to one of the two attendants who had
+accompanied me all the way from Rajiid.
+
+“How long was I with the jaboowallah?” I asked abruptly.
+
+“For two days the sahib was in the priest’s house near the temple,”
+the man replied. “On the second night the sahib was placed in the same
+position in which he fell, and the jaboowallah bade us retire and wait
+for the sahib in the road.”
+
+I attempted to question him further, but he was so reticent that I
+learned little more. The next day he and his companion, who had been at
+Rajiid, deserted me. For the remainder of the journey I was attended
+only by servants I had picked up on the way to Calcutta.
+
+Immediately after my arrival at Calcutta, I hastened to an English
+physician and bade him examine my throat. As he did this, I saw an
+expression of gravity settle on his face.
+
+“How did this happen?” he asked sharply. “The vocal cords have been
+cut.”
+
+A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I heard his words. Then I told
+him all. When I finished my account of the misadventures of my friends
+and myself, the physician shook his head gravely.
+
+“Such things do happen occasionally in India,” he said, “but in almost
+every case it has been proved that the natives have had justice
+on their side, and the government, assured of this, rarely adopts
+vigorous measures, for, in the circumstances, they would result in
+serious disaffections in certain districts. It is better, perhaps, to
+heed the jaboowallah’s warning and leave the country, rather than to
+expose yourself to new misfortunes in an attempt to have your enemies
+punished--an attempt which I fear, would fail.”
+
+I decided, reluctantly enough, to take his advice, and five weeks later
+I was in London.
+
+I at once repaired to the office of Ormond Dulmer, the solicitor to
+whom Ferguson had directed me, and to him I gave a full account of my
+Indian adventures. Dulmer, who was an elderly, stolid sort of man,
+listened gravely to all I had to say, but neither by word nor by the
+expression of his face did he manifest the slightest degree of surprise
+or emotion. In conclusion, I said:
+
+“And now, Mr. Dulmer, since I have told you all, nothing remains for me
+to do but to turn over to you the articles I purchased in Rajiid, and
+to refund to you the ten thousand dollars which Ferguson instructed me
+to deposit in New York until his return.”
+
+The lawyer raised a hand protestingly.
+
+“No,” he replied. “The ten thousand dollars are your own. The jade
+images and the brazier should be retained by you, however, until you
+receive from me other instructions for their disposition. Ferguson was
+a peculiar fellow, and was very precise in his methods. In planning to
+have you get the images out of India, it is more than probable that he
+made arrangements for some person to claim them of you in the event
+of his premature death. Be good enough, please, to carry out his
+instructions to the letter.”
+
+I looked at Dulmer searchingly.
+
+“You do not believe that Ferguson is dead?” I asked.
+
+Dulmer shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I know no more than you,” he replied. “Still, I scarcely think I will
+open his will until you and I obtain more definite evidence of his
+decease than is afforded by the testimony of your mutual enemy, the
+jaboowallah.”
+
+And so it came to pass that, a week later, I stood in my own room in
+New York, gazing speculatively at a brazier and two grotesque jade
+images that rested on the floor. My decision concerning these was
+quickly made. I resolved to send them to a storage warehouse where they
+might remain until some one authorized to claim them should receive
+them from my hands. Having formed this resolution, I at once proceeded
+to put it into execution. Accordingly, I locked my door and went to the
+office of a storage company, where I made the necessary arrangements.
+It was agreed that a wagon should be sent to take the articles away
+early the next morning.
+
+I returned to my room after an absence of a little more than four
+hours. As I opened the door, however, I gasped with astonishment.
+
+The brazier and the images were gone!
+
+Thinking that, perhaps, the storage company had found it practicable to
+call for the articles that day, and remembering that, as I went out,
+I had told my landlady that I intended to send the things away, I was
+partly reassured. I hastened downstairs to the landlady, and learned
+from her that two Italians had come with a black, unlettered wagon, and
+had told her that I had directed them to call for the articles.
+
+I reported my loss to the police; but from that day to this, so far as
+I have been able to learn, no trace of the articles has been found by
+the detectives who were assigned to the case.
+
+And now new dangers began to beset me. On the day following the
+disappearance of the images, I became conscious of the fact that I was
+under surveillance, and that no less than four men were employed for
+the purpose. Whenever I left the house in which I lodged--whether I
+walked or whether I rode in street-cars or cabs--some stranger would
+persistently keep me in view. These persons, I doubted not, were in the
+employ of some detective agency that had undertaken to watch and report
+my movements. Why anyone should find it necessary to spy on me now I
+could not understand.
+
+I had been in New York only a week when, returning late to my room
+one night, I found all my effects in disorder, and it was plain that
+everything belonging to me had been carefully searched. Some of my
+private papers were missing, tacks had been removed from the carpet,
+which appeared to have been turned back in an attempt to discover the
+hiding-place of some paper or other object. Despite all these facts,
+however, I found the door locked as I had left it.
+
+The next morning, before daybreak, I telephoned for a taxicab, and,
+entering it almost before it came to a standstill in front of the
+house, I directed the man to take me to the City Hall. Then dismissing
+him, I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, and, for the first time in a week,
+I congratulated myself that I had eluded the vigilance of the spies.
+In Brooklyn I engaged a couple of rooms in a modest dwelling-house at
+which I gave an assumed name.
+
+I remained indoors all day, and at night I went to a neighboring
+haberdasher’s to purchase articles of wearing apparel, for I had left
+my room in New York with scarcely more than the clothes I wore.
+
+Having made my purchases, I returned to the house I had left only a few
+minutes before. I had just thrust my key in the lock, and was preparing
+to turn it, when a hand fell on one of my shoulders. Turning quickly, I
+was confronted by a dusky face which was partly covered by a scant gray
+beard.
+
+It was the face of the jaboowallah of Rajiid!
+
+“The sahib will allow me to speak to him--in his room?” the strange man
+asked gravely.
+
+He wore a black derby and a suit of dark clothes; and, as I saw him
+then, he had the appearance of an aged negro.
+
+For several moments I was too overcome by astonishment and dismay to
+reply.
+
+“As you please,” I faltered as I turned the key.
+
+Then, leading the way, I conducted my persecutor to my room on the
+second floor.
+
+I turned up the gas and faced my visitor.
+
+“What brings you here?” I demanded abruptly.
+
+“I seek the lost eyes of the Buddha, sahib,” the jaboowallah answered.
+
+I looked at him wonderingly.
+
+“Why do you come to me?” I asked.
+
+“Because I have learned the Forsythe Sahib has them,” was the solemn
+answer.
+
+Utterly bewildered, I gazed into his burning eyes.
+
+“Not only have the gems you seek never been in my possession, but I
+have never seen them or heard anyone suggest a place where they were
+likely to be found,” I replied.
+
+“The sahib cannot deceive me,” said my visitor, sullenly. “Both gems
+have been in his possession. One was in the body of the jade image
+with the protruding tongue, which the sahib brought with him from
+India, and the other was in the little parcel left with him by the
+Ferguson Sahib on the day before he sailed for Europe.”
+
+The room swam before my eyes, and for several moments I was speechless.
+Then, with a trembling hand, I motioned to my visitor to sit down.
+He remained standing, but I, overcome by conflicting emotions, sank
+inertly on a couch.
+
+“The sahib has these, has he not?” the jaboowallah asked.
+
+“No,” I answered. “The image has been stolen from me, and the parcel is
+in the safe-deposit vault in which I was directed to place it by the
+man to whom it belonged.”
+
+The face of the jaboowallah grew darker.
+
+“Stolen!” he exclaimed.
+
+“The loss was reported by me to the police, who say they are trying to
+find the thief,” I explained.
+
+My visitor hesitated.
+
+“You will deliver the parcel to me?” he asked.
+
+“No,” I replied, “but I will lead you to the vault, and you may take
+it, if you will.”
+
+The jaboowallah nodded gravely.
+
+“Can you do this to-night?” he asked.
+
+“It will be impossible for me to have access to the vault until ten
+o’clock in the morning,” I explained.
+
+“I will be here at nine,” the jaboowallah said.
+
+He bowed profoundly, and then, without further words, he left me.
+
+I passed a restless night. In the morning I had breakfast served in my
+room. At nine the jaboowallah appeared.
+
+I summoned a taxicab, and, accompanied by my tormentor, I went to
+Manhattan. By ten o’clock we were in the office of the safe-deposit
+company. The vaults were in the basement, and to them we at once
+descended. There, giving a key to the jaboowallah, I pointed to the box
+I had engaged, and bade him open it.
+
+Glancing at the box as my companion drew it out, I saw that the seals,
+which Ferguson had affixed to the bundle, were broken.
+
+“Some one else has been here,” I whispered, fearfully.
+
+The eyes of the jaboowallah blazed with anger.
+
+“We will see,” he said, as he unfolded the wrapping paper.
+
+Within he found a package of banknotes--nothing more.
+
+As calmly as he had taken out the box, the jaboowallah returned it to
+its place. Then facing me, he said, quietly:
+
+“The sahib does not lie well. If the things have been stolen, the
+sahib has stolen from himself. Only ten days remain to him in which to
+restore the stones to the priests in whose keeping they belong. If they
+are not returned in this time, the holy men will place the eyes of the
+sahib in the empty sockets of the sacred image of Rajiid, and there
+they will remain until the lost gems are restored.”
+
+Stricken aghast by the awful threat, as well as by my helplessness, I
+made no attempt to reply. My visitor turned, ascended the stairs, and
+disappeared from my view; nor have I seen him since that hour.
+
+All that remains of my terrible story may be briefly told.
+
+My flight to Brooklyn had been in vain. Wherever I went I was watched
+by spies. I notified the police, and, on two occasions, I pointed out
+men whom I suspected of hounding me. They established their innocence,
+and I was discredited. The police then began to suspect that I had
+attempted to delude them when I reported the loss of the articles from
+my room.
+
+At length, convinced that the law would vouchsafe me no redress, I
+turned one day on one of the spies and attacked him so vigorously that
+I left him insensible on the pavement. I was arrested, subjected to an
+examination, and pronounced to be a victim of delusions. When the court
+directed that I be sent to an insane asylum, friends came to my aid and
+had me placed in a sanitarium.
+
+By this time the ten days allowed to me for the restoration of the gems
+had expired; but, even though surrounded by madmen, I felt a sense
+of security in the institution to which I had been committed until,
+one morning, on looking through a window, I saw two strangers driving
+along the road. In one of them I recognized one of the spies who had
+been watching my movements in New York. Accordingly, I obtained an
+interview with the superintendent and told him my story. He appeared to
+give little credence to it, but two days later I learned that he had
+been severely wounded in an encounter with a Hindu whom he had found
+prowling about the grounds. The next night a mysterious fire consumed
+the wing of the building in which I had my room.
+
+Once more the superintendent sent for me, and in his presence and that
+of two strangers I repeated my story. This was many months ago. A week
+later I was released. Accompanied by the superintendent, I was taken
+to a house in which I found Mr. Westfall. There I remained carefully
+guarded and in seclusion, until I was taken to his yacht, which brought
+me to this barge.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the Whispering Gentleman finished his narrative, the Nervous
+Physician pushed back his chair impatiently, and, rising, began to pace
+to and fro.
+
+“Absurd--utterly absurd!” he exclaimed, disgustedly. “Do you expect
+me to believe--any sane man to believe--that this blundering friend
+of yours continued to breathe and speak after the jaboowallah had
+decapitated him?”
+
+“I have not asked you to believe it,” replied the Whispering Gentleman,
+calmly. “I merely have described to you certain things which I have
+seen and heard.”
+
+The Duckhunter, turning to the Hypochondriacal Painter, who sat beside
+him, muttered grumpily:
+
+“An insane asylum is the best place for him, after all.”
+
+The Hypochondriacal Painter, making no reply, kept his wide, mournful
+eyes turned to Westfall, who was in the act of taking from Driggs,
+the servant, a large, covered, silver dish. This dish the host thrust
+toward the middle of the table, and then removed the cover.
+
+From that moment the voices of all Doubting Thomases were hushed. A
+long-drawn sigh seemed to issue from the company as each guest gasped
+for breath. By the removal of the dish’s cover, Westfall had revealed
+a cushion of purple velvet on which gleamed, like the fragments of a
+scintillating star, two diamonds as large as hen’s eggs.
+
+“My friends,” said Westfall gravely, “for these gems most women--aye,
+even those who wear queenly crowns--would sell their very souls. They
+are the lost eyes of Rajiid’s Buddha.”
+
+“In Heaven’s name--where--how did you come by these?” the Whispering
+Gentleman asked, tremulously.
+
+Westfall, laughing, shook his head.
+
+“For several weeks both were in your possession, my dear Forsythe,” he
+said.
+
+“In mine?” exclaimed the Whispering Gentleman, who was now the
+incarnation of bewilderment. “Did the jaboowallah----”
+
+“No,” replied Westfall, interrupting him. “I obtained them from a
+person who will now occupy the chair that has been reserved for the
+ninth guest, and from whose lips you will hear the story of the
+Decapitated Man.”
+
+As he spoke, all eyes turned toward the doorway. The curtains were seen
+to flutter; then the figure of a tall, gaunt man, with pallid cheeks
+and burning eyes, moved slowly down the steps.
+
+“Ferguson!” hissed the Whispering Gentleman, tottering backward as if
+he were about to fall.
+
+A moment later the bewildered guests were startled by a low, frightened
+cry from the farther end of the table, and, turning, they saw the
+Veiled Aeronaut sink back in her chair.
+
+“Water--water--let’s have some water here!” commanded the Duckhunter,
+as, bending over the inert figure of the young woman, he roughly raised
+her veil. “Come, be quick--one of you! The lady’s fainted!”
+
+The Fugitive Bridegroom, with a water-carafe in his hand, was hurrying
+toward the end of the table when his gaze fell on the features which
+the act of the Duckhunter had exposed to view.
+
+Halting suddenly, the Fugitive Bridegroom grew pale as death, and, as
+the carafe fell from his hand to the floor, an exclamation of amazement
+escaped his lips.
+
+“Paula--my wife!” he muttered.
+
+The effect produced on the newcomer by the sight of the young woman’s
+face was scarcely less extraordinary than that produced on the Fugitive
+Bridegroom.
+
+“Pauline!” he gasped. “At last----”
+
+He was starting forward impulsively, when one of Westfall’s hands fell
+on his shoulder.
+
+“Stop!” the millionaire said sharply. “You forget that you promised me
+that you would not speak to her until I bade you do so.”
+
+“True, true,” Ferguson replied, sullenly. “But when I promised, I did
+not believe that you could make good your word. I thank you, sir,
+and--and, my promise will be kept.”
+
+Harvette, the Frenchwoman, was quickly summoned, but by the time she
+arrived the young woman had recovered and again lowered her veil.
+Westfall hastened to her side and suggested that she go to her room.
+The Veiled Aeronaut shook her head, however.
+
+“I will remain,” she said, determinedly. “It is better that I should
+know all now.”
+
+Harvette retired, and the guests resumed their places at the table.
+Then once more Westfall addressed them.
+
+“We will now hear the story of the Decapitated Man,” he said.
+
+The ninth guest, resolutely turning his eyes from the Veiled Aeronaut,
+then began an account of his adventures.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+
+                           THE EYES OF RAJIID
+
+
+Though, for reasons which you will soon understand, I have been known
+recently by the name of Alfred Ferguson, I am no other than Cecil, Lord
+Galonfield, and am the possessor of one of the most venerable titles
+and one of the most debt-encumbered estates in the United Kingdom.
+
+I am now thirty years of age. Of the incidents of my early life there
+were few that bore any relation to the adventures which have befallen
+me in the last two years. I went through Harrow, and from thence to
+Cambridge, where I took my degree when I was twenty-two. Until this
+time I believed myself to be heir to a valuable and well-ordered
+estate. I was soon undeceived, for only a few days after I bade
+farewell to my student life, I was summoned to the presence of my
+father, who informed me that, owing to the reckless expenditure made by
+the last two holders of the title, a period of strict retrenchment was
+necessary, and that for ten years, at least, it would be necessary to
+rent our family seat in Yorkshire and our house in London.
+
+My father, who never had made a secret of his desire to have me prepare
+for a political career, was especially outspoken now on this subject.
+
+“Young as you are, this period of retirement from the fashionable world
+may be employed to much advantage,” he said. “If you will go to Paris
+or Berlin, where you are unknown, you will be spared the humiliation
+of being compelled to expose your poverty. There you can address
+yourself to the study of political affairs, and thus acquire a fund of
+knowledge which will be invaluable to you when the time comes for you
+to enter into your own.”
+
+Believing myself to be ill-fitted temperamentally for such a career,
+I had little liking for the prospect which my father, formerly so
+indulgent, thus pointed out to me. In his younger days he had served in
+the army, eventually rising to a colonelcy, and I long had cherished
+the hope that I might do likewise.
+
+“There is no chance for me in the army, then?” I asked sullenly.
+
+“No,” he answered promptly. “Your income, which, for some time, will be
+limited to three hundred a year, would prove insufficient to support a
+commission. Besides, as an officer, you might be ordered to India.”
+
+There was something in his tone that caused me to look at him with
+surprise.
+
+“Why should that possibility be regarded as an objection?” I asked,
+wonderingly.
+
+Removing the eyeglasses he was wearing at the time, he turned to me
+gravely, and, for several moments, he gazed at me thoughtfully.
+
+“My son,” he said, at length, “I was well advanced in the period of
+middle age when you were born, and, inasmuch as more than fourscore
+years are behind me, I have not much longer to live. If you go to the
+Continent, as I have suggested, I may not see you for several months,
+and in that time much may happen. It is best, therefore, that I should
+speak with you on a certain serious matter before you go.”
+
+As, leaning forward, I watched him earnestly, I saw a strange, far-away
+expression come into his eyes, and the hand that was toying with his
+watch-charm began to tremble. After pausing for several moments, he
+went on:
+
+“In my breast there is a secret which I had hoped to be able to take
+with me to the grave. But I shall not succeed in doing this, for
+during the last ten years I have been aware of the fact that strange
+influences are at work around me. It is a secret that has to do with
+India, and which has caused me to view with suspicion every man who has
+come to me from that awful country.”
+
+Pausing again, he looked abstractedly at the wall; then, rousing
+himself suddenly, he continued:
+
+“Were I to go into all details, the story would be a long one, but I
+will tell it as briefly as I may.
+
+“As you know, my father had two sons, and of these I was the younger.
+My brother, Robert--who, by the way, you resemble greatly in more ways
+than one--entered the army shortly after he obtained his degree. He
+soon became popular with his brother officers, and, as he displayed
+considerable military ability, his advancement, due partly to his
+father’s influence, was singularly rapid. At the age of thirty he held
+a major’s commission.
+
+“It was about this time that the Indian Mutiny began, and Robert’s
+regiment was ordered to India, whither I--a twenty-two-year-old
+lieutenant--already had gone with another regiment. Despite the fact
+that on several occasions our respective regiments were only a few
+miles apart, Robert and I did not meet.
+
+“Having received, at the battle of Mungulwar, a wound that
+incapacitated me for further service, I returned home. Six months
+later Robert caused to be sent to this country the body of Lieutenant
+Wortley, who had only a small income, and was almost friendless in
+England. At Robert’s request, my father made arrangements for the
+unfortunate young man’s burial in the parish church at Hetley, in
+Northumberland, where his parents and sister were entombed.
+
+“I had been in England only nine months when, upon entering my father’s
+study one morning, I found him stretched lifeless on the floor. He had
+lived an unbridled sort of life, and for several years he had suffered
+greatly with the gout. His heart had been weak, and as, spellbound with
+horror, I bent over his body, I doubted not that heart disease was
+responsible for his sudden death.
+
+“Quickly recovering my presence of mind, I summoned the servants and
+directed one to go for a village doctor. As I became more calm, I
+picked up from the floor two sheets of paper which appeared to have
+been dropped by my father as he fell. One of these sheets contained two
+verses of doggerel, in the handwriting of my brother, Robert. Without
+reading the verses, I glanced at the second sheet. This I found to be a
+letter addressed by Robert to our father. It was as follows:
+
+  MY DEAR FATHER: Within an hour after this is despatched to you, a
+  ball from my own pistol will have ended my life. Two days ago I fell
+  into the hands of a band of native fanatics, who, subjecting me to a
+  series of the most terrible tortures, mutilated me in such a manner
+  that I have resolved never to permit myself to be seen by those who
+  knew me before.
+
+  And so, farewell--to you, to my brother, to dear old England and all
+  I have loved. Distant as you are from where I will die to-day, you
+  will be the first to know that your oldest son is dead.
+
+  I enclose herewith some verses entitled “Stars of Destiny.” As
+  they represent the only literary effort I have ever made, it is my
+  wish that they be pasted on the back of the frame that holds our
+  genealogical chart. It is an absurd request, perhaps, but it is the
+  last that you may have from
+
+                                   Your unfortunate son,
+
+                                                       (signed) ROBERT.”
+
+Tears filled my father’s eyes as, in a broken voice, he added:
+
+“And thus did I become the twentieth Earl of Galonfield.”
+
+“My Uncle Robert’s body was never identified?” I asked.
+
+“No,” my father said. “His colonel reported him missing. I never heard
+of him again. The verses were only doggerel, written, I suppose, after
+the poor fellow’s mind had been weakened by the tortures to which he
+was subjected, but, with reverent hands, I pasted them on the back
+of the frame, as he requested, and only once since then have I seen
+them. This was on the day when, imbued with a spirit of heartfelt
+thankfulness, I took down the chart to inscribe upon it the name of him
+who was destined to be my only son.
+
+“My father had died in 1859, and having inherited the Galonfield title
+and estates, I found the latter heavily encumbered by debts contracted
+by my father and grandfather. Your mother, however, brought me a large
+fortune, and I was in a fair way to establish my affairs on a financial
+basis when a series of strange adventures began to befall me. Since
+then I have lived the life of a haunted man.
+
+“The first of these incidents was my receipt of a letter from the
+London branch of the Calcutta banking firm of Golphin & Faley. This
+letter informed me that the firm had been authorized by the Rajah of
+Nauwar to receive from me two diamonds that had been entrusted to the
+keeping of my brother Robert during the Indian Mutiny, and which, the
+bankers said, were then known to be in my possession. Naturally, and
+truthfully, I asserted that I never had seen or heard of them.
+
+“The bankers were insistent, and, finally, the Rajah brought suit
+against me for the restitution of the diamonds. He attempted to prove
+the delivery of the stones to my brother, but my attorneys soon showed
+that his witnesses were perjuring themselves. Shortly after this the
+Rajah died, and for several months I heard no more of the matter.
+
+“At length, however, the affair assumed a far more extraordinary phase,
+and you may easily imagine my astonishment when I began to receive from
+India letters written, as were the addresses on the envelopes that
+enclosed them, in the handwriting of--my brother!
+
+“In each case the fluid used was India ink, and each letter consisted
+of only a few lines--begging me--commanding me--to deliver the two
+diamonds to Golphin & Faley without delay.
+
+“In all, I have received no less than thirty of these letters during a
+period that has extended over thirty years. The last came to my hands
+three weeks ago.
+
+“As I have said, your mother brought to me a large fortune. When she
+died, four years after your birth, this was left to me unconditionally,
+and most of it has been used in attempts to find my brother.
+
+“The letters bearing Robert’s signatures were dated in various towns
+in India--Calcutta, Oodeypoor, Allanhabad, Saugor, and Madras, and the
+postmarks indicated that they were, in fact, sent from those places.
+Some of these cities were so distant from one another, however, that
+the territory which my agents found it necessary to search comprised
+more than half of the Indian Empire. It is not surprising, therefore,
+that the search was vain.
+
+“That many persons, other than residents of India, believe that I have
+these mysterious stones in my possession, is indicated by the fact
+that, from time to time, dealers in precious stones have visited me and
+have offered to purchase them at enormous sums. Scarcely a month has
+gone by that has not found on my desk some letter threatening me with
+death or financial ruin if I do not relinquish the gems.
+
+“No house in England has been so frequently entered by burglars as has
+mine, and I have been obliged to discharge scores of servants whom I
+have found to be guilty of tampering with my private letter boxes.”
+
+“Do you believe my Uncle Robert is still alive?” I asked.
+
+“No,” replied my father with decision. “I do not doubt, for a moment,
+that he died in the course of the few days following the despatch of
+that last letter to my father. The letters I have been receiving, and
+which purport to be from him, either are exceedingly clever forgeries,
+or were written by him, while under duress, after writing to my father.”
+
+“Well, it is plain that the Rajah and the others would not have made
+such determined and costly efforts to get the stones from you had
+they not an excellent reason for believing that, having come into the
+possession of my Uncle Robert, they had been forwarded by him to you,”
+I said thoughtfully.
+
+My father nodded.
+
+“That is unquestionably true,” he said. “But, despite all the inquiries
+I have made, I have failed to discover why the stones were given to my
+brother, or the identity of the person from whose hands he received
+them. The Rajah asserted that the stones had been stolen from him, and
+that the thief--a native--entrusted to my brother a commission to take
+them to England, where they were to be offered for sale. The native is
+dead, and, while the Rajah pretended to have documentary evidence of
+the understanding which existed between my brother and the thief, he
+failed to produce it.”
+
+For several minutes we sat in silence; then, rising, my father laid a
+hand on my shoulder.
+
+“This, my son, is the secret that I have never, until now, asked you
+to share. I hope and pray that the persecutions to which I have been
+subjected may not pass to you with the title which you will inherit on
+my death. If Robert still lives, I hope that he and I may meet again.
+If he is dead, may his poor spirit rest in Heaven.”
+
+The following week I bade farewell to my father, and set off for Paris.
+I remained in the French capital for four years, and during that time
+I succeeded in supplementing the three hundred pounds which I had
+received annually from my father with a couple of hundred pounds for
+services as Paris correspondent for a London weekly newspaper.
+
+I regret to say, however, that, despite my profound regard for my
+father, I devoted comparatively little time to the course of study
+which he had suggested. Living in modest quarters, I found my income
+sufficient to enable me to mingle with the laughter-loving denizens
+of the Latin Quarter, and, devoid of all serious ambition, I was well
+content.
+
+But this irresponsible mode of life was brought to a sudden close when
+I received from my father the following telegram:
+
+  In Heaven’s name come to me at once at Wercliffe. My life is no
+  longer my own. Insist on seeing me. Take no refusal.
+
+                                                    (signed) GALONFIELD.
+
+An hour later I was on my way to England. Arriving there, I hastened
+to Wercliffe Hall, our country seat, where I was greeted by strange
+servants. This fact caused me little surprise, for the Hall had been
+rented to an American for a couple of years, and, naturally, our old
+servants had dispersed.
+
+When, however, a stranger, introducing himself as Dr. Tully, told me
+that, as my father’s physician, he was compelled to ask me to delay my
+visit to his bedside, my spirit was roused.
+
+“I will go to him at once, even if it is necessary for me to knock down
+a dozen men who bar my way,” I retorted, angrily.
+
+His face grew livid, but whether this was the result of fear or anger I
+could not tell. He stepped back, however, and, as I passed on, I heard
+him mutter, sullenly:
+
+“Well, the devil take you, then. I’ll not be responsible for the
+consequences.”
+
+Turning quickly, I addressed him again:
+
+“What is the matter with my father?”
+
+“He was stricken with heart trouble, ten days ago,” the man replied.
+“Any excitement, however slight, is likely to prove fatal to him now.”
+
+I hesitated, but it was only for a moment. The words of the message
+flashed into my mind, and I knew that, in the circumstances, it was
+more probable that my father would be more excited by my tardiness than
+by my appearance. Accordingly, passing on, with Dr. Tully close at my
+heels, I came at last to my father’s bedchamber.
+
+As I opened the door quietly, I saw my father, wrapped in a
+dressing-gown, seated in a chair near one of the windows. His face was
+like a death-mask, and I shrank in horror from the change that had been
+wrought in his appearance since I had seen him last, six months before.
+
+But for only a moment did my gaze rest on the face and figure of the
+invalid. Standing beside him, and bending over his chair, was a tall,
+lanky, clean-shaven man whose features, it seemed to me, I had seen
+somewhere before. This man was speaking, in a calm, low voice, but I
+heard his words distinctly.
+
+“So--so!” he was saying, musingly. “He was preparing to die. And his
+last request had to do with some verses he had written. You read these
+verses? Yes--ah, yes--they were sad things--about two stars--two stars
+of destiny, and you pasted them on the back of a frame that held----”
+
+A low cough behind me caused me to turn sharply. The sound had been
+made by Dr. Tully.
+
+But the cough had been heard by other ears than mine. The tall man
+beside my father turned abruptly, and as, with kindling eyes and rising
+color, he confronted me, I knew him in a moment.
+
+It was Simon Glyncamp, an American, who, two years before, had created
+a sort of furor in Paris by his mind-reading exhibitions.
+
+“Why are you here?” I demanded--half in anger--half in wonder.
+
+“As an assistant of Dr. Tully’s, I might, with more propriety, ask that
+question of you,” he said, and he flashed an ugly look towards the
+physician.
+
+I was about to speak when a low, shrill cry interrupted me, and, with
+outstretched arms, my father, trembling violently, rose from his chair.
+
+“Cecil--Cecil, my son!” he cried in accents so pitifully weak that
+they smote my heart. “Cecil, they are killing me--they have me in
+their power. I am dying, and this man is robbing me of my soul. Fear
+him--fear him--Cecil--I----”
+
+He tottered toward me, then, as he fell in my arms, his figure became
+inert. I bore him to a chair, and, as I laid him down, I looked into
+his eyes. The lids were raised, but I knew that he never would see me
+more.
+
+Maddened by rage and horror, I seized Glyncamp by the throat and hurled
+him toward the door. His head struck the wall and he fell like a bent
+poker to the floor. I rang for a servant, and when the man appeared, I
+bade him bring the old village doctor.
+
+An hour later I had driven from the house Glyncamp, Tully, and every
+servant who had been employed about the place. Among them there was not
+one who did not know that I had murder in my heart. They went quickly.
+
+The places of the servants were taken temporarily by some of the
+villagers. That night two strangers, who were found loitering in the
+park, were stoned from the grounds.
+
+When I became more calm, I secured the services of two detectives, who
+I directed to obtain evidence showing that Glyncamp and Tully were
+responsible for my father’s death. A few hours later I learned that the
+villains had crossed the channel.
+
+For the two weeks following the funeral of my father, my attention was
+absorbed by matters relative to the estate. These I found to be far
+less serious than I had expected. The frugality of my father and the
+excellence of his judgment were not without effect. Some debts were
+still unpaid and there were several mortgages to be lifted, but it was
+apparent that the financial crisis of the Galonfield affairs had been
+passed successfully. I did not doubt that two more years would find
+the estate, not only free from debt, but in such shape as to yield an
+income of twenty thousand pounds a year. Having reached this gratifying
+conclusion, I next addressed myself to a solution of the mystery which
+enveloped the closing days of my poor father.
+
+That a desperate attempt had been made to wring from my father some
+sort of secret which his tormentors had believed him to possess
+was, of course, perfectly apparent. What was it that this American
+mind-reader had been trying to learn at the moment that my appearance
+had interrupted his efforts?
+
+I distinctly remembered the words I had heard on that occasion, and I
+tried to understand their significance. It was plain that the American
+was leading my father’s mind back to the time when he had read the
+papers that had fallen from my dying grandfather’s hand. Why did
+Glyncamp desire to know what disposition he had made of the verses he
+found?
+
+Then I suddenly remembered that, despite the fact that my father had
+told me what he had done with these verses, I had not had sufficient
+curiosity to look at them. Rising now, I left the study, in which I had
+been seated, and, entering the library, I took down from the wall the
+framed genealogical chart of the Galonfield family. Returning with this
+to the study, I laid it on the desk.
+
+The sheet containing the verses met my glance at once. It was yellow,
+and covered with dust, but the India ink with which the lines had been
+written had lost none of its blackness. The paste had dried, however,
+and, as I touched the paper, it came off the wood to which it was
+attached. The handwriting was small and almost femininely dainty, and I
+read:
+
+           STARS OF DESTINY.
+
+    Rare as two angel-tears congealed
+      Are those that flashed their light
+    Just as great Buddha’s gaze revealed
+      Its splendors to men’s sight.
+    Immured within a human breast,
+      Down Tyneside one shall go.
+    ’Tis only when the truth is guessed
+      Shall men behold its glow.
+
+    Let him who hath less haste than I,
+      Or deems himself less rich,
+    Seek that from which in fear I fly--
+      The treasure in the niche.
+    Encompassed by the very walls
+      Your temple-builders made,
+    Ere death unto the finder calls,
+      Seize fast the long-tongued jade.
+
+I always have been a lover of poetry, but in this I found nothing that
+appealed to me. The verses left the writer’s meaning so obscure that,
+believing, as my father had done, they amounted to no more than mere
+doggerel, I dropped them into one of the drawers of my desk. A few
+moments later my solicitor entered the room to discuss with me some
+matters that had to do with the settlement of the estate, and the
+verses ceased to have a place in my thoughts. The chart was returned to
+its place on the wall without the verses which, in accordance with the
+writer’s wish, had been pasted on the back of the frame before my birth.
+
+Five weeks after my father’s death, I received from another American an
+offer for a lease on Wercliffe Hall, and, having decided to continue,
+for two or three years at least, my father’s policy of retrenchment,
+I promptly accepted it. A month later I established myself in an
+apartment in London.
+
+While arranging my papers in the desk in my new quarters, I found that
+among them were the verses from the chart.
+
+Despite my resolution to curtail my expenses as much as possible, I
+yielded to the solicitation of an old family friend and joined a couple
+of clubs which had had the names of Earls of Galonfield on their rolls
+from the time of their foundation. It was at one of these clubs that I
+first met Meschid Pasha who, little as I suspected it at the time, was
+destined to play an important part in the history of my life.
+
+Meschid Pasha, who had attained considerable prominence as an officer
+in the Turkish army, was a man about fifty-five years of age, with a
+pleasing address, thoughtful face and the physique of a man of thirty.
+I was introduced to him by an old friend of my father’s, with whom,
+however, I had only a slight acquaintance.
+
+The Pasha explained that he had been in London only a few days, and
+that twenty years had passed since his last visit. Courteously he asked
+me for certain information concerning the town, and, as I was able to
+give him this, we soon found ourselves conversing together in terms
+of easy familiarity. There was something in the man that interested
+me, and when he invited me to take dinner with him on the following
+evening, I promised to do so.
+
+He had told me that, designing to spend several months in London, he
+had rented a furnished house in the West End. Thither I went, at the
+time appointed, expecting to find a modest town house fitted up in
+conventional British style. The house itself was modest enough, being
+in the middle of a dingy brick block, but scarcely had I been admitted
+to the hall when I became aware of the fact that the fastidious
+Pasha had established in the heart of London a residence which, by
+reason of its interior appointments, might have been transported from
+Constantinople or Damascus.
+
+In the dimly lighted hall I saw a Nubian, clad in Oriental costume,
+steal like a shadow from a deep niche and noiselessly ascend the
+stairs. The room to which I was conducted had the aspect of the corner
+of a Turkish bazaar. The walls were hung with rich Oriental draperies,
+and were further decorated with shields, simitars, yataghans and spears.
+
+Meschid received me with marked cordiality, and, after a short
+conversation, led me to an adjoining room where dinner was served.
+Everything was cooked and served in Oriental fashion.
+
+When dinner was finished we smoked, and, as we smoked, our talk was
+of the collapse of Russia, the wrangles among Christian sects in
+Jerusalem, the influence of sea power on history, and Parisian opera.
+This brought us to a discussion of the relative merits of French,
+German, Italian, and American singers, and so we talked of women. Then,
+half-absently, Meschid said:
+
+“My wife was an Englishwoman.”
+
+I started, for I knew that among Mohammedans it is regarded as an
+almost unpardonable breach of etiquette for men to speak of the female
+members of their families.
+
+“Indeed!” I murmured, faintly.
+
+“My daughter, whose education was entrusted to an English governess,
+has so long felt a desire to see her mother’s native country,
+that, yielding to her wish, I brought her with me,” the Pasha went
+on gravely. “I regret having done so, however, for her incessant
+questioning almost drives me mad. I shall try to have her visited each
+day by some discreet London woman, but your ladies’ ideas of a woman’s
+life are so vastly different from ours that I am inclined to fear the
+result.”
+
+“Is your daughter’s English governess not with her?” I asked.
+
+“No, my friend, her governess died last year.”
+
+“Well, surely, among the wives of your English friends----”
+
+“I have no English friends,” he interrupted. “To be perfectly frank
+with you, I will confess that among my English acquaintances there is
+none who is so well qualified to win my friendship as is the Earl of
+Galonfield.”
+
+“In view of what you have said concerning your daughter, that is most
+unfortunate,” I said, laughingly. “The Earl of Galonfield has no wife,
+mother, or sister.”
+
+Smiling thoughtfully, Meschid nodded.
+
+“It is most unfortunate,” he replied with a sigh. “But what would you
+advise me to do? Is there any cultured and thoroughly responsible woman
+you would recommend who----”
+
+He stopped suddenly, and, glancing at me sharply, he slowly twisted one
+of the ends of his black mustache. For the first time since I had met
+him I was conscious now of a sense of embarrassment.
+
+“Stop!” he exclaimed, as he saw that I was about to speak. “There is an
+old adage that directs those who are in Rome to do as the Romans do.
+We are in England, and, relying on your discretion, I will do as the
+English do. My daughter shall be present at our council.”
+
+He smote his sinewy hands together with a force that startled me,
+and, responding to this sound, a corpulent negro, wearing a red fez
+and a long black coat, entered the apartment. To this man Meschid
+addressed several quickly spoken sentences in a language that I did not
+understand. The negro bowed profoundly and left the room.
+
+Meschid and I smoked in silence.
+
+Strange as it may seem, I was not agreeably impressed by these
+manifestations of extraordinary friendliness, and from the moment that
+my host had first spoken of his daughter, I was conscious of a rapidly
+increasing feeling of distrust. I was never known as a “woman’s man,”
+and all my life I have been peculiarly insensible to flattery. Why had
+this distinguished foreigner sought my acquaintance? Why was he now
+manifesting toward me such startling evidence of his confidence?
+
+My discomfiting reflections were dissipated, however, by the parting
+of the curtains at the door, and the appearance of one of the most
+remarkable figures on which I ever had gazed.
+
+Clad in a long-sleeved, silken caftan of purple silk, the open folds of
+which revealed a low, white, gold-embroidered vest, an orange-colored
+sash and pale-green trousers, it was the figure of a woman. Her head,
+however, was enveloped in a snowy _yashmak_, and through the slit
+of this I saw a pair of dark eyes lighted with what appeared to be
+curiosity and amusement. Her bare feet were thrust into dainty, jeweled
+slippers of crimson leather, and the light from the diamonds set in her
+rings and bracelets almost dazzled me.
+
+Utterly bewildered by the suddenness with which I had been confronted
+with this pearl of an Oriental harem, as well as by my ignorance of the
+conventionalities which should be observed on such occasions, I started
+to rise. A moment later, with a fluttering heart and trembling limbs, I
+sank helplessly back on the ottoman on which I had been seated.
+
+At a word from the Pasha, the young woman had raised her jeweled hands,
+and, by two or three deft movements, freed her head from the veil.
+
+I was face to face with a beautiful creature that might have been one
+of those houris who, according to the promise made by Mohammed, await
+the faithful within the gates of Paradise!
+
+I am not a poet, so I will not attempt to describe the face I saw. It
+was unnaturally beautiful. Nature had been lavish in her gifts, but
+these were so supplemented by the work of human hands that the general
+effect bewildered me. It was plain that nature had not given to this
+fair woman’s lips all their redness, nor had it invested her lashes
+and eyebrows with such blackness. Diamonds were shimmering in her hair,
+many of the stones being so concealed by the dark tresses that I could
+see only their light.
+
+Without rising, Meschid said quietly:
+
+“This is my daughter, and, with the exception of the members of my
+family, your lordship is the first man before whom she has unveiled her
+face.”
+
+Rising clumsily, I took in mine the dainty, gem-covered hand the young
+woman held out to me.
+
+“I am glad that one of my mother’s countrymen is the first of your sex
+that I am permitted to meet,” the young woman said, smiling graciously
+and speaking in faultless English.
+
+She glanced half-timorously toward the Pasha, as if to assure herself
+that her words had met with his approval.
+
+Meschid smiled grimly, but said nothing.
+
+I stammered a few conventional sentences, then we sat down. As I did
+so, I observed that a second person had entered the room. This was a
+tall woman clad in a black gown and a _yashmak_ of the same color. She
+seated herself in one of the corners of the room, and, with her head
+slightly bowed, remained motionless for the rest of the evening. This,
+I doubted not, was some withered Turkish duenna to whose care the young
+woman had been consigned.
+
+In a surprisingly short time I was again at ease. Had it not been for
+her Oriental costume and cosmetics, this fair stranger easily might
+have passed for a charming, vivacious young Englishwoman. As it was,
+there were moments when I felt as if, as a guest at a fancy-dress ball,
+I was sitting in a corner of an Englishman’s home, talking with a
+couple of English friends.
+
+In the course of the two hours that followed my introduction to
+this beautiful young woman, we conversed on many subjects, and,
+incidentally, I learned that her name was Pauline.
+
+“It is not a Turkish name, you know,” she explained laughingly. “I was
+named after a relative of my mother’s.”
+
+It was ten o’clock when I took leave of my host and his charming
+daughter. They invited me to visit them again on the second evening
+following, and at the appointed time I was there.
+
+For more than a month I made a practice of visiting Meschid’s house
+twice each week, and on most of these occasions I was afforded an
+opportunity to pass an hour in the company of Pauline and the sombre,
+featureless duenna, who followed her like a shadow, but whose voice
+I never had heard. And there were times when, as the duenna appeared
+to be absorbed in memories of distant lands and days, Pauline and I
+drew so near together on one of the large ottomans that our hands were
+wont to meet, and I saw in her eyes those wondrous lights that the old
+Persian poets, looking into others, had seen and sung about.
+
+How much of this the old duenna saw, we never knew.
+
+At length, however, there came a sudden awakening, and I visited
+Meschid’s house no more.
+
+Pauline and I were sitting on the ottoman together, about nine o’clock
+one night, and talking in whispers that could not have reached the
+duenna’s ears, when I, raising my eyes, saw Meschid, who was scowling
+darkly, standing in the doorway. Pauline, following the direction of my
+glance, saw him, too, and, with a little cry, raised her head from my
+shoulder, on which it had been lying.
+
+For several moments the silence that followed the discovery of
+Meschid’s presence was unbroken. The Pasha was the first to speak.
+
+“Well, your lordship, you see I trusted you,” he said bitterly.
+
+“Nor have I betrayed your confidence,” I said calmly, as I rose.
+“Before introducing me to your daughter, you told me that, being in
+England, you were prepared to do as the English do. I have taken you at
+your word, and, having obtained your permission to visit your daughter,
+I have acted as almost any Englishman who loves a woman would act in
+similar circumstances. In the English manner I have wooed her, and,
+as an Englishman who is able to offer her both social position and
+fortune, I now ask your permission to make her my wife.”
+
+Meschid’s face was less clouded now. His gaze wandered from me to the
+duenna at the farther end of the room, and then I saw that the somber
+figure had risen as if prepared to receive the expected rebuke. This
+was not forthcoming, however. Walking deliberately toward the center
+of the room, Meschid addressed his daughter, whose colorless face and
+frightened eyes were turned toward him.
+
+“Leave us,” Meschid said with an imperious wave of the arm.
+
+Pauline, hesitating, turned to me. Taking her hands I pressed them to
+my lips.
+
+“Whatever happens now, we shall meet again,” I murmured. “No earthly
+power except your own can prevent me from making you my wife.”
+
+With a little sigh, she turned to the door. Then, followed closely by
+the duenna, she left the room.
+
+“Let us smoke,” the Pasha said, and, taking a cigar-case from his
+pocket, he opened it and held it toward me.
+
+I took one of the cigars and we sat down together on one of the
+ottomans.
+
+“And so you want to marry her,” Meschid said, gravely.
+
+“Yes,” I answered.
+
+“You are asking me to yield to you the most beautiful woman in the
+world,” he went on, thoughtfully.
+
+“I am well aware of that,” I said.
+
+“And you know that every pearl has its price,” he added.
+
+A sudden chillness crept over me, and my heart sank. For the first time
+in my life I knew the sensation of fear. I realized, too, that I was
+dealing now with a true son of the Orient--a part of the world where
+women are bought and sold for harems.
+
+“Well, what is the price of this?” I asked him, sullenly.
+
+“The most valuable pair of diamonds known to man,” replied the Pasha
+gravely.
+
+I started, and looked at him sharply.
+
+All was clear to me now. This man had come all the way to London to
+tempt me. So far as Pauline and I were concerned, he had left nothing
+to chance. This house, with its Oriental furnishings, had been fitted
+up for no purpose other than that to which I had seen it applied. It
+was a trap set for me alone, and baited with--Pauline!
+
+Almost unconscious of the Pasha’s presence, I rose and began to pace
+the floor. In my brain was raging a fire that seemed to be consuming
+all the respect for man and love for woman that I ever had felt.
+Was it possible that this splendid woman--the fairest I ever had
+seen--had been only playing a part? Was she nothing more than a blind,
+unreasoning puppet that moved in obedience to this jewel-seeker’s
+will? Or, ignorant of her father’s base designs, had she really learned
+to love me?
+
+While I still was tortured by these conflicting thoughts, it suddenly
+occurred to me that my position was presenting a second, and no less
+serious, phase. The shadow of the curse that had blighted my father’s
+life now had fallen upon me! I was in the presence of one of the men
+who, it was apparent, thoroughly believed that the mysterious diamonds
+were in the possession of my family. How did he come by this belief?
+
+Glancing toward Meschid, I saw he was watching me stolidly.
+
+“The most valuable pair of diamonds known to man might not be too
+precious to offer in exchange for such a gift,” I said. “But where am I
+to get them?”
+
+The Pasha shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Your lordship must find the way,” he answered, shortly.
+
+“Do you believe they are already in my possession?” I asked.
+
+“No,” Meschid replied. “But I have reason to believe your father knew
+where they might be found. I doubt not that he communicated the secret
+to you.”
+
+“Have you reason to believe that they are in England?”
+
+“No,” said the Pasha, smiling slightly. “If I knew the secret of the
+hiding-place, it is probable that I would not find it necessary to come
+to you.”
+
+“How were you led to suspect that the secret was in the possession of
+my family?” I asked.
+
+“That is my affair,” he retorted.
+
+For several moments both of us were silent. Then, having thought calmly
+on the matter, I addressed him.
+
+“For many years men have suspected that two valuable diamonds either
+were in my father’s possession or that he had the secret of their
+hiding-place,” I said. “Why they should think this always constituted
+a mystery that he never was able to fathom. Independent of my interest
+in your daughter, it is desirable that I find the gems. If they come
+into my possession I gladly will relinquish them to you in exchange for
+the gift that it is in your power to bestow on me. I would require as
+a further condition, however, that publicity be given to the fact that
+you have become the owner of the stones.”
+
+“That responsibility I would assume most cheerfully,” Meschid replied
+with a smile.
+
+“I am perfectly willing,” I said, “to undertake the quest, provided
+it is possible for me to find the clue which, though unknown to me,
+appears to be identified with the property that I have inherited. If
+you have any suggestion to offer that is likely to put me on the right
+track, I beg of you to let me have it.”
+
+Meschid shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I can give you no advice,” he said, half-contemptuously. “I have told
+you on what terms I will grant you my consent to marry my daughter. The
+rest is your affair.”
+
+“How much time may I have in which to attain my object?” I asked.
+
+Again the Pasha shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“My daughter is twenty now, and a woman’s beauty does not last
+forever,” he answered, sharply. “If, within two years from to-day you
+deliver these stones to me, Pauline shall be your wife. If you fail to
+do this within the period I have named--why, then she will become the
+bride of a more determined suitor.”
+
+“What is the history of these stones?” I asked him desperately. “Who
+was supposed to have had them before they were delivered to my uncle?
+All large diamonds have distinctive names. By what names are these
+known? How am I to learn who had them last, and how they may be
+identified?”
+
+The Pasha shook his head.
+
+“I have no information concerning these details,” he said. “As I have
+said, it is your affair.”
+
+Meschid moved toward the door suggestively as he spoke, but I, standing
+in the middle of the room, still hesitated.
+
+“Will I not be permitted to see your daughter again before she leaves
+London?” I asked.
+
+“No,” he answered with decision. “I will start for Constantinople
+to-morrow, and she will go with me.”
+
+I bowed and left the room. Meschid, contrary to my expectation, did
+not accompany me. As I passed through the dimly lighted hall, however,
+a strange thing happened. A shapeless figure suddenly appeared, then
+flitted to a doorway. On the wall opposite this doorway was an oval
+mirror in a massive gold frame, and as I passed it, something in the
+glass attracted, then riveted, my attention.
+
+It was a human face from which had fallen the folds of the yashmak
+that had concealed from my view the features of the duenna, and, as I
+looked, I recognized the long, angular face of Glyncamp, the American
+mind-reader!
+
+Involuntarily I stopped. For several moments the mirrored eyes gazed
+steadily into mine, then the face disappeared, and I passed on.
+
+A black-garmented negro, gliding from a niche, met me as, descending
+the stairs, I made my way to the lower hall. He opened the street door
+for me, and, stepping out, I found that the city was enveloped in a fog
+as thick, murky and gloomy as my thoughts.
+
+On the following day I learned that Meschid, Glyncamp, and most of
+the members of the Pasha’s household had left London for Dover. The
+servants who remained behind were engaged in the task of packing
+furniture.
+
+The next week I gave much time to the examination of my father’s
+correspondence, hoping to find therein a clue to the identity and
+whereabouts of some person who might know something more of the
+mysterious gems than I had been able to learn. My search was vain,
+however, and, brooding over my failure, late one night, my thoughts
+were diverted by the entrance of a servant who gave to me the card of a
+visitor.
+
+As I glanced at the card, an exclamation of pleased surprise came to
+my lips. I pushed back my chair and hurried to the hall to welcome
+the one man in all the world for whom, since my father’s death, I
+had entertained feelings of real affection--Frank Blakeslee, an old
+classmate, who, having obtained a commission in the army, had been
+serving in India, Africa and Malta, and whom I had not seen for more
+than four years.
+
+I am not an emotional man, but now my heart seemed to rise to my
+throat. Since Blakeslee and I had parted last, I had seemed to be
+living a life of isolation, and during this period there was none I
+regarded as a confidant. Now, when I saw the smiling bronzed face
+of my old friend in the hallway, I gave no heed to the hand that
+he held out to me, but, grasping him by the shoulders, I shook him
+violently--insanely, like a very fool. My words of welcome fell
+incoherently from trembling lips, but he read their meaning in my eyes.
+
+Startled by the strangeness of my greeting, my friend looked a little
+alarmed at first, then, smiling, he said, in his brusque, English way:
+
+“Well, Cecil, how are things with you? I was sorry to hear of your
+governor’s death. I knew it must have cut you up a bit.”
+
+We talked for a while on various subjects of interest to us both. Then,
+coming back to my affairs, I told him all that had befallen me since my
+father had revealed to me the strange secret of his life.
+
+Blakeslee watched me intently as I proceeded with my narrative, and,
+from time to time, the shrewd questions he put to me showed that the
+last few years had not clouded the keen perceptions that had inspired
+me with admiration in our college days. I brought the narrative down
+to the very moment that the servant had placed my friend’s card in my
+hands.
+
+When I finished, Blakeslee slowly settled back in his chair and puffed
+vigorously at his pipe. I watched him curiously, anxious to learn what
+effect my recital had upon his mind. At length he spoke.
+
+“How’s Cummings?” he asked, absently.
+
+Cummings, an inconsequential fellow, was an old classmate of ours, of
+whom I had lost sight. His life had never interested me.
+
+“I don’t know anything about him,” I replied, shortly, and a feeling
+of resentment sent the blood to my face as I realized that my friend’s
+thoughts already had wandered from the subject I had found so vital.
+
+“A helpless sort of duffer, wasn’t he?” said Blakeslee, meditatively.
+For several moments he smoked silently, then he went on: “But, I
+say, old man, you haven’t showed me that doggerel--those verses, you
+know--that your uncle wrote.”
+
+I hesitated. Blakeslee had disappointed me. As he sat now, thumbing
+tobacco deeper into the bowl of his pipe, there seemed to be something
+impertinent in his complacency. Dominated by a spirit of irritation, I
+made no reply to his suggestion. He flashed toward me a look of earnest
+inquiry.
+
+“If you happen to have them anywhere about you, Cecil, I’d sort of like
+to have a look at them,” he persisted.
+
+Half-reluctantly, I opened a drawer of my desk, and, after a little
+fumbling, found the sheet and handed it to him. He read the verses
+deliberately.
+
+“Humph--not bad!” he muttered, as he finished reading; then, laying the
+sheet on one of his crossed knees, he lighted his pipe. “What have you
+made of them?”
+
+“Nothing,” I answered, sullenly.
+
+“But the possibility that they might afford some sort of a clue to the
+mystery of the diamonds naturally occurred to you,” my friend said
+thoughtfully, as again picking up the sheet he looked at the back of it.
+
+“The idea did occur to me, but there seemed to be nothing in the
+character of the lines to encourage it. Accordingly, I dismissed it.”
+
+“And you didn’t look for an acrostic or cryptogram or--or anything of
+that sort?” he went on musingly, as, with his elbows on his knees, he
+studied more carefully the lines on the sheet.
+
+“No,” I replied.
+
+For nearly five minutes the silence was unbroken. Puffing deliberately
+at his pipe, Blakeslee kept his gaze on the sheet he was holding before
+him.
+
+“Well, Cecil, there’s something here,” he drawled, at last.
+
+I stiffened suddenly. All my resentment left me now.
+
+“Do you know, Cecil, I always had a fancy for this sort of thing,” said
+Blakeslee, with a chuckle. He paused, then added: “He’s talking about
+gems--two of them--that’s plain enough.”
+
+“He calls them stars--stars of destiny,” I protested.
+
+“Figuratively--figuratively, I suppose they are,” he said,
+abstractedly. “But they are gems, for the writer plainly indicates
+that the objects were capable of being handled--and one does not
+handle stars, you know. Now, let us see. Listen to this: ‘Rare as two
+angel-tears congealed--’ There were two of them, you see. ‘Are those
+that flashed their light--’ Diamonds are the only gems that really
+flash. But now let’s see what he means by ‘just as great Buddha’s gaze
+revealed--’ That ‘just’ signifies the time the stones were there--that
+they were--well, some place, I suppose. ‘Its splendors to men’s sight.’
+Now it’s clear that the ‘its’ refers to the gaze and not the flashing
+of the diamonds. In short, then, the diamonds flashed when Buddha
+gazed.”
+
+I rose irritably.
+
+“Oh, that’s all nonsense!” I exclaimed. “If you are going to undertake
+the thing at all, you’d better get on another track.”
+
+“Nonsense!” Blakeslee repeated, in an injured tone. “There’s nothing
+nonsensical about it, old top. I’ve been in India, and I’ve seen images
+of Buddha that used to have necklaces of precious stones around their
+necks. Sometimes the images were veiled. The withdrawal of the veil
+would reveal the gems and the face of the image at the same time,
+wouldn’t it?”
+
+I went back to my chair. There seemed to be some method in the madness
+of my friend, after all.
+
+“Well,” Blakeslee went on, “let us see how this first verse goes when
+the lines are taken together.
+
+    “‘Rare as two angel-tears congealed
+      Are those that flashed their light
+    Just as great Buddha’s gaze revealed
+      Its splendors to men’s sight.
+    Immured within a human breast,
+      Down Tyneside one shall go.
+    ’Tis only when the truth is guessed
+      Shall men behold its glow.’
+
+That’s clear enough, too--in a way.”
+
+“Clear enough!” I exclaimed in disgust. “It seems to me that it makes
+everything more obscure than it was before.”
+
+“Not at all,” replied Blakeslee, calmly. “It plainly indicates that
+one of the stones was to be taken from the land of Buddha to England.
+That’s all.”
+
+“Come, come, Blakeslee, you are letting your imagination carry you too
+far from the field,” I said. “The last four lines of the stanza, more
+than all the others, have convinced me that my poor uncle really was
+in a sentimental mood when he wrote of the ‘Stars of Destiny.’ They
+refer to the death of a comrade--Lieutenant Wortley, who, while serving
+with my uncle in India, was killed in a skirmish with natives. Wortley
+belonged to a comparatively humble family in Northumberland. The family
+and its fortune were about extinct at the time of his death. My uncle’s
+affection for the poor devil was so strong, however, that he had the
+body embalmed and sent to England, paying all the expenses of the
+funeral himself.”
+
+“From what part of Northumberland did Wortley come?” Blakeslee asked
+sharply.
+
+“From a little village named Hetley,” I replied.
+
+“And he was buried at Hetley?”
+
+“Yes--in the family vault in Hetley churchyard. The town is on the
+river Tyne, and the lines in the ‘Stars of Destiny’ that read ‘Down
+Tyneside one shall go’ doubtless refer to this circumstance.”
+
+There was a pause, then Blakeslee said musingly:
+
+“I have heard of men swallowing diamonds in order to hide them--though
+the act nearly always proved fatal, but stars--never, Cecil--never!”
+
+For several moments I was speechless, and I felt drops of perspiration
+gathering on my forehead.
+
+“Great Heavens, Blakeslee, you don’t think--” I began.
+
+“I’m only guessing, Cecil,” he answered gravely. “Listen:
+
+    “‘Immured within a human breast,
+      Down Tyneside one shall go.
+    ’Tis only when the truth is guessed
+      Shall men behold its glow.’
+
+I’m only guessing, boy--I’m only guessing.”
+
+“But--if these diamonds are all that the Pasha believes them to be,
+each must be almost as large as the Kohinoor. No man would attempt to
+swallow such a stone.”
+
+“Perhaps he didn’t swallow it,” said Blakeslee. “It may be that he died
+before the idea of ‘immuring’ it occurred to your ingenious uncle.”
+
+With an exclamation of horror and impatience I rose.
+
+“The very idea is atrocious!” I said.
+
+“Not at all,” Blakeslee protested, complacently. “If men go through
+life with gold teeth and aluminum jaws in their heads, and silver pipes
+in their chests, what is there revolting in the idea of a man going to
+the grave with a diamond in the place formerly occupied by his heart?
+It was a good thing for the Lieutenant, I should say. Had it not been
+for that diamond his bones would now be lying in an Indian trench. As
+it is, he has found burial among his forefathers. There will be no
+difficulty in getting permission to open the tomb, I suppose.”
+
+“No,” I murmured. “In view of the fact that members of my family had
+the body brought from India, I dare say the matter readily may be
+arranged.”
+
+Blakeslee nodded.
+
+“Well, there’s one of the gems accounted for,” he said. “Now let’s see
+to the other one.”
+
+He again picked up the sheet containing the verses, and began to study
+the lines attentively. I gave him little attention. Trembling with
+excitement, I paced the floor with nervous steps. At length a little
+chuckle from Blakeslee caused me to halt abruptly.
+
+“As an exponent of practical expression, this old chap was a veritable
+Wordsworth, Alfred Austin, or Walt Whitman--too simple to become
+great,” he said. “We don’t require any of the literary acumen of a
+woman’s Browning club to decipher his meaning. Listen to this:
+
+    ‘Let him who hath less haste than I,
+      Or deems himself less rich,
+    Seek that from which in fear I fly--
+      The treasure in the niche.
+    Encompassed by the very walls
+      Your temple-builders made,
+    Ere death unto the finder calls,
+      Seize fast the long-tongued jade.’
+
+All that’s plain enough, isn’t it?”
+
+“Now that the mystery of the first verse has been cleared away, I
+confess that the lines of the second become more significant,” I
+replied. “The lines, ‘The treasure in the niche’ have, from the first,
+encouraged in me the suspicion that the writer might, indeed, be
+referring to the hiding-place of precious stones. But, while a certain
+temple undoubtedly is referred to, the lines, ‘Your temple-builders
+made,’ and ‘Seize fast the long-tongued jade’ have baffled me. There
+is nothing to indicate where the temple may be found, and, as ‘jade’
+undoubtedly signifies a woman, it is scarcely probable that she has
+been living all these years. These reflections have led me to believe
+that the language was only figurative, after all--that ‘The treasure
+in the niche’ was Truth, and that the ‘long-tongued jade’ who must be
+seized before Death calls to the ‘finder,’ was Opportunity.”
+
+Throwing back his head, Blakeslee laughed loud and boyishly.
+
+“And so they are--so they are,” he said pacifically, as he saw the
+anger in my eyes. “But let us look at the thing from a distinctively
+material viewpoint. Briefly, then, the writer tells us that having
+discovered the hiding-place of the stones, and succeeded in getting
+away with one, he finds himself compelled to seek safety in flight.
+Others, less fortunate than he has been, may return for the treasure
+in the niche, if they will, but, so far as he is concerned, the game
+isn’t worth the candle. Besides telling us that the treasure is in the
+niche, he also says that the seeker will find it within ‘the very walls
+your temple-builders made.’ The ‘very’ indicates that the walls are the
+same that had been reared by the builders of the temple in which the
+stones were at the time of their disappearance, ‘your temple-builders’
+undoubtedly being the builders of the temple in which you are
+especially interested--in short, the temple originally associated with
+the gems.”
+
+Fairly gasping for breath as the force of this interpretation became
+impressed upon me, I voiced my last protest.
+
+“But the jade--the jade--” I began.
+
+“That line is at once the most important and intelligible of all,” he
+said. “The word has, of course, several meanings--a tired horse, a
+woman, and a certain kind of stone that is plentiful enough in India.
+Many jars, idols, and other ornaments are made of this stone, and the
+line in the verse apparently refers to a piece of jade carved in some
+form that shows a long tongue. In this stone you doubtless will find
+Diamond Number Two. But the writer warns us that the possession of this
+is likely to prove fatal to the finder, for he says: ‘Ere Death unto
+the finder calls’!”
+
+“That is all very well,” I muttered moodily, “but how are we to know
+where to look for this temple?”
+
+“My dear fellow, this sagacious, plainly spoken uncle of yours had so
+little confidence in the perception of his prospective nephew that he
+left nothing to chance,” replied Blakeslee laughingly. “He has told
+you.”
+
+“Told me!” I exclaimed as I took the sheet that Blakeslee held out to
+me.
+
+“You said, I believe, that you tried to find an acrostic in the lines,”
+Blakeslee went on.
+
+“I tried the first verse only, but I failed. The first letters of the
+lines are ‘R-a-j-i-i-d-t-s’--a combination that is devoid of sense.”
+
+“There is no ‘t,’” protested Blakeslee. “The seventh line begins with
+an apostrophe. The word, therefore, is Rajiid’s. In the second verse
+the acrostic is plain--‘Lost eyes.’ Thus we have ‘Rajiid’s Lost Eyes.’
+Taking these words in conjunction with the idea expressed in the first
+four lines of the poem--namely, that the diamonds flashed ‘just’ as
+Buddha gazed--it is easy to infer that the diamonds served as the eyes
+themselves. Therefore, the diamonds are the lost eyes. Now, as temples
+often are designated by the names of the towns in which they stand, it
+is reasonable to assume that the Rajiid mentioned is the name of the
+town in which we are to find our temple. Have you an Indian Gazetteer
+among your books?”
+
+I had one, and quickly placed it in his hands. Blakeslee turned the
+pages deliberately. At length he stopped and, taking his pipe from his
+mouth, read aloud:
+
+“‘Rajiid, Nauwar: population, three hundred and twenty-five. Shoorgai,
+forty miles.’”
+
+As he passed the open book to me, he added:
+
+“Well, there’s your temple, laddie. And now give me a place to turn in,
+won’t you? When I got to London it was too late for me to get a train
+out to the mater’s place, so I thought I would come up and smoke a pipe
+with you. I won’t be up to town again for a week or so--unless--well,
+I’ll see that thing through with you at Hetley, if you like.”
+
+That night Blakeslee shared my bed with me. He was soon asleep, and
+it was not long before he had the bed to himself; for, after tossing
+restlessly for a couple of hours, I rose and, donning my bathrobe,
+paced the floor of the library until after daybreak. At breakfast
+it was arranged that I should communicate with the rector of Hetley
+Church, and that, as soon thereafter as might be practicable, Blakeslee
+should go with me to the vault where our gruesome task was to be
+performed.
+
+When Blakeslee left me, I at once proceeded to formulate a general plan
+for the intended undertaking.
+
+All his life my father had been watched by spies. In Glyncamp, who had
+so nearly succeeded in obtaining from him the secret of the mysterious
+verses, I recognized a powerful enemy. Was he working in the interest
+of Meschid or in his own? Were his interests or those of Meschid allied
+with interests of the native Indians who had attempted to get the
+stones from my father? If not, how many independent jewel-seekers were
+to be numbered among my persecutors?
+
+I saw at once that it was all-important that I should move with
+secrecy. Glyncamp was the man I most dreaded, and I shuddered when I
+reflected what might happen to me, now that the mystery lay open in my
+mind, if Glyncamp should succeed in getting me in his power. How easily
+this might be effected was shown by my experience in that dimly lighted
+house of the Pasha’s, when, in the guise of a veiled Turkish woman, he
+had sat, unrecognized, in the room with me for hours.
+
+In less than an hour I had decided to abandon the policy of
+retrenchment that had been inaugurated by my father. All my energies,
+financial and otherwise, now would be directed to the task of obtaining
+these diamonds. I would win Pauline, and, by publicly transferring the
+gems to other ownership, I would remove the curse that had pursued my
+father to his grave and now was casting its shadow over me.
+
+Sending for the head of one of the most prominent private detective
+agencies in London, I directed him to secure all possible information
+relative to Glyncamp’s past life, and to locate him and keep him under
+surveillance. Some of this information reached me quickly.
+
+I learned that the man was a native of Ohio, and that, having won
+considerable celebrity as a mind-reader in the United States, he
+had gone to Paris, where his performances had excited extraordinary
+interest. Impressed by his singular ability, the Russian government had
+offered him a large sum to go to that country and give his services
+to the secret police. He had about decided to accept this offer when
+a proposition coming to him from Turkey caused him to change his
+plans. He went to Constantinople, and his arrival in the Turkish
+capital was followed quickly by the discovery of the secret plans
+of a revolutionary society. This resulted in more than a score of
+executions. Then Glyncamp’s trail was lost, only to be found again when
+he appeared in England with Meschid Pasha. Upon leaving London with
+the Pasha, the mind-reader again had disappeared.
+
+Convinced of the correctness of Blakeslee’s interpretation of the
+mysterious verses, I decided that the sooner the tomb in Hetley
+churchyard was opened the better would be my chance of keeping the
+proceeding secret. I saw that I must do one of two things. Either
+I would have to write to the rector, or I would have to see him
+personally. I realized that writing on such a subject would be unwise
+in the circumstances, but I reflected that, if I made two visits to
+Hetley, I would take a double chance of exciting the suspicion of spies.
+
+In the end, I came to the conclusion that the better plan would be to
+summon Blakeslee, and, accompanied by him, get to Hetley about the
+middle of some afternoon, and, after obtaining the rector’s consent to
+the proceeding, go to the churchyard at night and perform the necessary
+task.
+
+I selected as the date of our visit to Hetley the second day of the new
+moon, hoping that in the darkness our visit to the churchyard would be
+unobserved by villagers.
+
+Fortunately, all weather conditions were in our favor. Blakeslee and I
+arrived at Hetley in a driving rain. We found our way to the rectory
+without trouble, and were there greeted by the Rev. John Wivering,
+the rector. To him I explained who I was, and I told him that the
+purpose of my visit was to obtain from the inside lining of Lieutenant
+Wortley’s coat a paper of the greatest importance which had been placed
+there by my uncle. The fact that this was there, I said, had been
+revealed by a document which I found among the papers of my father.
+
+Though a little startled at first by the nature of my purpose, the
+rector assented readily enough to my request. The key to the vault
+was in the sexton’s room in the church, but the sexton himself was
+confined to his bed by an attack of quinsy. The rector offered to
+summon a couple of villagers to give us any assistance that we might
+require, but we assured him that the task was so comparatively simple
+we needed no aid.
+
+Convinced that I was the person I represented myself to be, and that
+my purpose was perfectly legitimate, the rector readily promised to
+maintain the strictest secrecy concerning the proceeding. We had
+tea with the good man and his wife; and, soon after darkness fell,
+Blakeslee and I, carrying a satchel that we had brought with us,
+repaired to the churchyard.
+
+The task of conquering the rusty lock occupied more than ten minutes,
+but it yielded at last. The rust-encrusted iron door moved inward, and
+a rush of damp air passed our faces.
+
+Stepping quickly inside the vault, I drew a dark lantern from the
+satchel and bade Blakeslee close the door. A few moments later the
+lantern’s fan-like ray was sweeping the floor, roof, and walls.
+
+In the general aspect of the vault there was nothing to inspire an
+average man with a sense of morbidness. The open space was about ten
+feet square. The walls were of sandstone, and in these were set slabs
+of yellowish marble on which were inscribed in black letters the
+epitaphs of the persons entombed behind them. The slab bearing the name
+of Lieutenant Wortley was almost level with the floor.
+
+From the satchel we took chisels and mallets. The plaster surrounding
+the slab was easily crumbled, and, working quietly and quickly, we
+succeeded in releasing the slab in about twenty minutes. Behind this we
+encountered a row of bricks. These were soon removed, and, at last, we
+beheld the side of the box we sought.
+
+Without pausing, we addressed ourselves to the most formidable part of
+our task--that of withdrawing the box from the niche into which it had
+been thrust. But the efforts of our perspiring, muscle-strained bodies
+told at last. Then, with fingers quivering as a result of the violence
+of our efforts, we produced a couple of screw-drivers and began to
+remove the screws from the cover of the box. The raising of this
+disclosed the top of a casket covered with black cloth.
+
+Once more we returned to work with our screw-drivers, and the second
+lid soon was lifted. Beneath this was a coffin, crudely fashioned
+of lead. Fearing that this was sealed with metal, we examined it
+carefully, and were relieved to find that, like the others, the cover
+was only screwed down.
+
+At length, Blakeslee and I, having worked our way around the gruesome
+box, came together. My companion was withdrawing the last screw. In a
+few moments the result of our quest would be known to us.
+
+“Well, Cecil, let’s have it off,” said Blakeslee after a brief period
+of hesitation, during which each of us looked at the pale face and
+questioning eyes of the other.
+
+Bending, Blakeslee grasped one end of the lid and I took the other. As
+we lifted this, I kept my gaze on the metal cover until we laid it on
+the floor. Then, for the first time, I turned my eyes to that which its
+removal revealed.
+
+“By Jove!” Blakeslee gasped, and stopped.
+
+Well might we have been astonished at the object that now presented
+itself to our view--the body of a soldier, clad in a scarlet jacket and
+blue trousers. The head was large, and on the young, handsome features
+there was an expression of dignified serenity that one might have
+expected to find on the face of a sleeping Charlemagne.
+
+“Why, the man looks as if he might have been alive this morning!” I
+gasped.
+
+Kneeling beside the still figure, Blakeslee began to unbutton the
+jacket with such gentleness that one would have thought he was afraid
+of waking the sleeper.
+
+“They cut his head a bit,” mused Blakeslee, as he glanced at the dark
+hair critically.
+
+He had scarcely spoken, when, throwing back the folds of the jacket, he
+exposed the bare torso of the still figure.
+
+“That’s what did it, though,” whispered my soldier friend, pointing to
+a round, bluish hole in the middle of the chest. “He was facing the
+brown devils when he fell--one of the Queen’s own lads was this one,
+Cecil.”
+
+But my gaze had wandered lower. There I saw two lines--one
+perpendicular, the other horizontal--that formed a cross, made, as I
+knew by the embalmers. These lines had been roughly stitched, but some
+of the catgut threads had been torn away.
+
+Blakeslee gave utterance to a little exclamation of dismay.
+
+“Some one has been here before us,” I muttered between chattering teeth.
+
+“Give me the scissors,” directed Blakeslee grimly.
+
+I passed them to him, then, with trembling limbs, I, too, knelt beside
+the box.
+
+A few moments later, when my friend again closed the scarlet jacket
+over the cold breast, I, sitting limply on the floor, thrust into the
+inner pocket of my coat a hard, oblong object that was sewed in a
+little bag of oiled silk which exhaled the odor of fragrant spices--a
+bag that I did not attempt to open then.
+
+I tottered to my feet, and, as Blakeslee took one of the dead man’s
+hands, I grasped the other.
+
+“Good-night, old chap,” Blakeslee murmured, addressing the dead
+soldier. “Perhaps, some morning, the same bugle music will wake us
+both.”
+
+As carefully as we had opened the three boxes, we closed them again. We
+made no undue haste to leave the place. To the dead we gave all that
+was its due. Every screw that we returned to its place was well driven,
+and when the big box had been thrust back into the niche, we replaced
+the stones as well as we were able. I resolved, however, that more
+expert hands than ours soon should be entrusted with this task.
+
+It was after nine o’clock when, after thanking the rector, we returned
+to the railway station, just in time to catch a train for London. It
+was six in the morning when, sitting at my desk, with Blakeslee at my
+side, I severed the threads that had closed the little silken bag.
+
+Within the bag I found a roll of chamois-skin, and in this a roll--a
+diamond.
+
+Not until I shall lie in that deep sleep that sealed the eyes of the
+red-jacketed hero I saw at Hetley shall I cease to feel a thrill of
+fear and wonder as I recall the effect produced by the object that the
+unfolding chamois-skin disclosed to my view.
+
+Catching, holding and multiplying the rays of the lamplight that fell
+upon it, the marvelous gem suddenly seemed to become the focal point of
+ten thousand dazzling beams--a whiteheated thing that was being slowly
+consumed in its own blaze of glory--a self-damned soul on which Heaven
+and hell had heaped their fires.
+
+As I tottered backward, Blakeslee grasped my arm. Looking at him then,
+I knew that his long face mirrored the lividness and horror of my own.
+
+“Cecil, we must stop it!” he gasped, faintly. “If it is seen----! Come,
+come, man--we must put it out!”
+
+We glanced around us with apprehensive, searching eyes. The shades
+were lowered and the doors were closed, but we asked ourselves whether
+it was possible that no eyes other than our own should have seen this
+outburst of supernatural radiance.
+
+For several moments my courage seemed to fail, and I could not bring
+myself to the point of touching the dazzling stone. At length, however,
+I reached for the chamois-skin, and, after dropping this over the gem,
+I placed the diamond in a drawer of my desk.
+
+“You can’t keep it there,” said Blakeslee in a hoarse whisper.
+
+“No,” I said. “To-morrow--to-day----”
+
+“If spies are hovering around you the way they hovered around your
+father, England is too small a place for that. You must get it
+somewhere----”
+
+“I’ve thought all that out, old man,” I answered, firmly.
+
+“What are you going to do with it?” my friend demanded, curiously.
+
+“I won’t tell you that,” I replied.
+
+An expression of wonder leaped into Blakeslee’s eyes.
+
+“You--you mean you dare not trust me!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Yes,” I answered, promptly. “I do not trust myself. If it is known
+that you and I possess this secret, there is one who may have it in his
+power to get it from us. When we find the other stone we will see them
+together. Meantime, both you and I must be ignorant of the hiding-place
+of these.”
+
+Blakeslee nodded.
+
+“You’re afraid of Glyncamp, then,” he said, meditatively. “Well, you
+are right. It is best that neither of us should know. But how are you
+going to manage it?”
+
+“I’ll be out of England within the next twenty hours.”
+
+Blakeslee frowned.
+
+“You are going to the Continent?” he asked.
+
+“No,” I answered, shortly. “But if you are willing to join me in my
+search for the other stone, we will set out five months from to-day.
+Until that day we must not meet.”
+
+“How long will we be gone?” Blakeslee asked.
+
+“Three months.”
+
+“I can get a furlough for that period, I suppose,” he murmured,
+musingly. He paused; then, with a little shrug of the shoulders,
+he held out both hands to me, as he added: “All right, then,
+Cecil--furlough or no furlough, you can count on me.”
+
+I grasped his hands.
+
+“And you are going to give the gems to the Pasha for the girl?” he
+murmured, dubiously.
+
+I nodded.
+
+“Well, Cecil, either the girl is indeed an houri, or you’re a fool,”
+Blakeslee muttered as he turned away.
+
+Ten hours later I boarded a west-bound Cunarder at Queenstown. In a
+belt I carried one of the lost eyes of the Rajiid Buddha.
+
+During the six days occupied by the voyage, I formulated my plans for
+the quest of the second diamond and the protection of the first.
+
+Several days before Blakeslee and I had gone to Hetley, I had seen
+in an English newspaper an account of some of the adventures of an
+American traveler named Forsythe. This man had made travel a vocation,
+and, in the employ of scientists and institutions of learning, he
+had brought from various parts of the world objects of interest that
+now formed parts of famous collections. He was described as a man of
+fertile resource and unimpeachable integrity. I had heard of him
+before, and there was something in his personal characteristics and
+mode of life that had appealed to my imagination, and sometimes I had
+even gone so far as to envy him his experiences.
+
+I now reasoned that, taking advantage of this man’s resourcefulness
+and reputation, I might cause the diamond to be removed from India in
+a manner that would prevent anyone from suspecting the real purpose
+of a visit to Rajiid. More than this, I also conceived the idea, not
+only of keeping Forsythe in ignorance of the fact that he was to
+have the second diamond in his possession, but compelling him to be
+the temporary, and unsuspecting, custodian of the stone I had found
+at Hetley. After having Forsythe conceal the Hetley stone, I would
+arrange with Dulmer, my solicitor, to have an agent remove the sealed
+package containing it from the place in which it might be kept by the
+absent Forsythe. Not even should Dulmer know the nature of the packet’s
+contents.
+
+My instructions to Dulmer also bade him be prepared to have in the
+United States a man who, as soon as he should receive the word to do
+so, might take forcible possession of all objects that I might cause
+Forsythe to take to that country. The signal for these double thefts of
+my own property would be a report of my death to Dulmer. Each detail of
+the plan was thought out carefully.
+
+To most persons this plan, with all its elaboration of details, might
+have appeared not only unnecessary, but altogether absurd. But the
+strange power of Glyncamp had impressed me with so much respect and
+alarm that, with so much at stake, I resolved to leave nothing to
+chance. I was resolved that no man in the world should fall into
+Glyncamp’s power, who in sickness or in health, would be able to form a
+mental picture of the true custodian of the Hetley stone or the place
+in which it might be concealed.
+
+Upon arriving in New York, I engaged a room in a house occupied by a
+family that was in reduced circumstances. Assuming the name of Alfred
+Ferguson, I allowed my beard to grow, and, dressing only in cheap
+garments, I kept out of the streets as much as possible. Inquiries
+which I made concerning Forsythe revealed that he still was in South
+America, and probably would not return to the United States for two
+months.
+
+I next proceeded to address myself to a task which I had set for myself
+while I still was on the steamer. Obtaining some plaster of paris I
+made a cast of the Hetley diamond. Then, taking this cast to a Maiden
+Lane lapidary, I directed him to supply me with two paste counterfeits.
+I had thought that this was a comparatively simple undertaking, but I
+was soon undeceived. The lapidary told me that the work would have to
+be done in Switzerland, and that it would be impossible for me to have
+the imitation stones in less than two months. I gave the order, left a
+deposit on it, and went out of the shop.
+
+I had been in New York only ten days when I received from Blakeslee,
+the only man who knew my address, a cipher despatch that read as
+follows:
+
+  Parson says Glyn knows Hetley affair. Burglars have ransacked your
+  London apartments and spies are watching the house. Keep close where
+  you are, and look sharp. I am not suspected.
+
+                                                              (Signed) B
+
+The three weeks that followed were uneventful, and I spent most of my
+time in my room. I heard that Forsythe was on his way to New York, and
+I wrote to my solicitors to arrange to have fifty thousand dollars
+placed to my credit in a Philadelphia bank. Two weeks later this sum
+was at my disposal.
+
+At last my patience was rewarded. The daily newspapers reported
+Forsythe’s arrival, and from the Maiden Lane lapidary I received the
+two paste stones that had been cut for me in Switzerland.
+
+The lapidary appeared to be enthusiastic over the merits of the
+imitations when he greeted me.
+
+“Were there two such real diamonds in existence, they would be worth
+millions, sir,” he said.
+
+To give the lapidary his due, I must confess that the paste gems were
+so excellently wrought that they filled me with astonishment, for I
+never had suspected that the art of counterfeiting precious stones
+could attain such wonderful results. A man would, of course, have been
+little better than a fool to have been deceived by these paste baubles,
+but I scarcely had expected to see any brilliancy at all. The forms of
+the stones and a superior quality of material were sufficient to meet
+all my requirements.
+
+I expressed thorough satisfaction with the manner in which the work had
+been done, and willingly paid the price that had been agreed upon.
+
+I next had a tinsmith make for me a cylinder six inches long and three
+inches in diameter. In this I placed the Hetley diamond, carefully
+packed; then, in accordance with my instructions, the tinsmith sealed
+both ends. This done, I shaved off the beard I had been wearing,
+provided myself with twenty-five thousand dollars, and called upon
+Forsythe.
+
+The incidents connected with that interview, as well as those that had
+to do with Forsythe’s journey to and from Rajiid, have been related
+by that gentleman himself. I, therefore, will restrict myself to a
+relation of my own experiences subsequent to that interview.
+
+Upon receiving from Forsythe’s messenger the key to the unknown
+safe-deposit box, I delivered it to a New York lawyer who had been
+named by Dulmer as his representative. Meantime, however, a detective,
+who was unknown to this lawyer, in accordance with my London
+solicitor’s directions, had kept a careful watch on Forsythe and had
+followed him to the office of the safe-deposit company. This detective
+then sent the name and address of the company to Dulmer, who, it will
+be remembered, knew nothing whatever of any diamond in which either my
+father or I had been interested.
+
+Embarking on the same vessel that took Forsythe to Europe, I spent
+nearly all my days and nights in my stateroom in the second cabin. I
+was in my stateroom on the _Arran_ when Forsythe boarded that steamer.
+
+Blakeslee, having obtained his furlough, secured a stateroom near
+the second cabin quarters on the _Arran_. For weeks he had been
+indefatigably working in my interests, without causing any of the spies
+who were following me to suspect that he was in any way interested in
+my movements. To him three detectives, in his employ, had described the
+appearance of several of the spies who had been seen lurking around my
+former haunts.
+
+On the _Arran_ were several Hindus. One of these conformed with the
+description of a Hindu to whom certain spies had reported. Apparently
+this man, having failed in his mission to London, was returning to
+India without the knowledge of the fact that I was on the same vessel.
+Chance, however, led me in his way one night when I had determined to
+have a few words with Blakeslee.
+
+My friend saw that I was recognized, and in obedience to a warning
+signal from him, I retreated. That night the Hindu died under
+mysterious circumstances. He was only an unknown Hindu, so the officers
+of the _Arran_ made no investigation. All happened very conveniently.
+
+The discovery of this spy caused me to change my plans. Despite what I
+had told Forsythe--and I must confess that my representations to that
+gentleman were sometimes rather far from the truth--I had intended to
+let him go to Rajiid alone, while Blakeslee and I took another route. I
+now decided, however, to have Blakeslee and Forsythe follow me.
+
+At Arungabad I found two brothers--Parsees--who, like other members of
+their sect, had little respect for Buddhism or its disciples. The elder
+of these brothers was named Ahmed-Kal. The younger was Bunda. I had six
+servants, but of these the two Parsees were the only ones whom I felt I
+could trust.
+
+I felt reasonably certain, until I drew near Rajiid, that I was
+successful in keeping clear of spies. Upon my arrival at Rajiid, I
+visited the holy well and its temple, as any other traveler might have
+done. I watched a jaboowallah perform his tricks, and then passed on
+my way. While in the temple I was careful not to display any undue
+interest, but I had little difficulty in marking the jade idol in a
+niche near the ceiling.
+
+After leaving Rajiid, I proceeded to a village about ten or twelve
+miles beyond. Here, pretending to be ill, I halted to await the arrival
+of Forsythe and Blakeslee at Rajiid. In due time this was reported to
+me.
+
+Thus far I had believed myself to be free from suspicion, and already
+I had begun to laugh at the fears which had caused me to make such
+elaborate preparations for my quest for the hidden gem. I had little
+difficulty in convincing myself that, without Forsythe and Blakeslee,
+I might have purchased the jade idol and made my way out of India.
+
+Satisfied, then, that my purpose was not suspected, I despatched
+Ahmed-Kal to Forsythe with a note directing him to purchase certain
+articles and return home by way of Calcutta. By the time Ahmed-Kal
+returned, however, I was undeceived. Scores of native, cat-like eyes
+had been watching me for hours.
+
+It was Bunda who first told me this--Bunda, the brother of Ahmed-Kal.
+From one of my alarmed native attendants he had learned that I had come
+to Rajiid to take from their place of concealment the lost eyes of the
+bronze Buddha.
+
+When Bunda told me this, I laughed at his fears, but I put in his hands
+a little parcel wrapped in khaki-cloth, and bade him take my horse
+and set out for Bombay. I told him that fortune awaited him there if
+he delivered to a certain man, whose name I gave, the parcel that I
+entrusted to his keeping. I explained also that if he betrayed his
+trust the soldiers of the White King would flay him, for that which I
+had given to him was the White King’s own. The parcel contained the
+imitation gems.
+
+When I saw that the man believed me, I provided him with funds for his
+long journey, for as fast as one horse succumbed to speed he was to
+purchase another--the fleetest he could obtain. When Bunda left me I
+awaited, with all the calmness I could command, the hour that would
+bring to me the report of Forsythe’s departure from Rajiid.
+
+But, before that hour came, the blow which I dreaded had fallen,
+and it had come from an unexpected source. Bunda was scarcely more
+than a dozen miles from Rajiid when I was suddenly set upon, beaten
+insensible, and bound by my own attendants. It was in vain that
+Ahmed-Kal tried to defend me, and even he suspected for a time that his
+brother, knowing of the danger, had sought safety in flight.
+
+When I recovered consciousness I was bruised and bleeding, and was
+in the temple grounds where Forsythe found me. Before me stood the
+jaboowallah who had exhibited his skill as a wonder-worker when I was
+leaving the Rajiid temple. Addressing me in excellent English, he
+questioned me shrewdly concerning the object of my journey to India,
+and my reasons for visiting Rajiid. I told him I was a traveler, bound
+for the military station at Shoorgai. His eyes flashed ominously while
+I was speaking. When I finished he said:
+
+“The sahib lies. He is Lord Galonfield, and he has come to us to
+profane and rob our shrines. Unless he tells us where we may find the
+sacred gems that were once the eyes in Buddha’s image, he will speak no
+more.”
+
+I shrugged my shoulders as I answered:
+
+“I have told you that my name is Ferguson. The hiding-place of the lost
+eyes is unknown to me. But if, doubting what I say to you, you find
+courage to shed my blood, there will come to Rajiid men with coats as
+red as the blood you now design to spill.”
+
+“The White King’s soldiers will come in vain,” the jaboowallah
+answered, calmly. “Though I shall cleave the sahib’s head from his
+shoulders, yet shall he not die except by his own act, nor shall the
+soldiers find him. Has the sahib any wish to express before he dies?”
+
+I hesitated.
+
+“Yes,” I said. “I am informed that, since I left your temple, another
+traveler has come to Rajiid--Forsythe Sahib. Let him see my body, that
+he may report my death to my friends in England. It is better that they
+should know that I am dead than that they should spend their fortunes
+seeking me.”
+
+I saw the light of craftiness playing in the jaboowallah’s eyes. I knew
+his thought, and that Forsythe would be brought to me before I died. I
+knew, too, that I would not be allowed to die till they had the secret
+from me.
+
+“It shall be as the sahib has said,” the jaboowallah replied, but, as
+he spoke, my heart grew still, for he unsheathed a sword.
+
+At the feet of the jaboowallah several natives now spread a square
+piece of white cloth, and eight or ten brown, sinewy hands forced
+me to sit on it in a cross-legged position. This done, the natives,
+retreating, left me sitting alone, at the jaboowallah’s feet.
+
+“If the sahib wants to count the minutes and hours that precede the
+coming of his friends let him sit still as the great Buddha on his
+throne,” the jaboowallah said.
+
+His eyes now gleamed like fiery coals, and, as they bent their gaze
+upon me, I felt my will go out. The jaboowallah raised his arm, and
+thrice in the moonlight I saw the flashing of his swift-circling blade.
+A keen pain quivered in my neck and set every nerve in my body tingling.
+
+“And so shall the sahib await the coming of his friends,” said the
+jaboowallah as, sheathing his sword, he turned from me.
+
+A few minutes later the sound of retreating feet died away. I was alone.
+
+I was not deceived. The wound I had received was nothing more than
+a mere scratch, however, which this strange man’s art had caused to
+completely encircle my neck. It marked the beginning of the series of
+tortures to which I was to be subjected in the course of an attempt to
+wring my secret from me.
+
+I saw Ahmed-Kal, trembling with fright, mount and ride away in the
+direction of Rajiid. For more than an hour, conscious of the fact that
+I was watched by scores of unseen eyes, I sat there, never stirring.
+
+At length, from over a rise in the road, there came to my expectant
+ears the welcome sounds of approaching hoofbeats. Then a little
+cavalcade came into view. At its head rode Forsythe, Blakeslee, and
+Ahmed-Kal.
+
+I heard the horses stop in the road, and a few minutes later I saw my
+friends approaching me.
+
+I knew no word that might pass between us would escape the ears of
+spies who were concealed in the foliage around me, but I was resolved
+that Forsythe and Blakeslee should not be suspected of being the real
+custodians of the precious gem that was concealed in the jade image.
+
+But, shrewd as my friends usually were, this mysterious situation
+now disconcerted them. They thought that I, believing myself to be
+decapitated, had lost my reason. Despite my protests, Forsythe called
+to his attendants, and Blakeslee drew his revolver. A score of armed
+natives leaped upon them. Forsythe went down, but Blakeslee, fighting
+like a very demon, shot four men and broke away. He got to where the
+horses had been left, and, mounting his own--an animal that had been
+carefully chosen--he made off in the direction of Shoorgai.
+
+Ahmed-Kal, who had attempted to defend himself, was beheaded. Forsythe
+was borne away insensible.
+
+An hour later, while strung up to a beam by my hands, and with heavy
+stones bound to my feet, I confessed--confessed that I had found the
+lost diamonds under the coping of a well near which I had encamped, and
+that Bunda, the Parsee, was bearing them to Bombay.
+
+Further tortures were now suspended, and I was imprisoned in a
+dingy cave, scooped in the side of a hill. From one of my guards I
+learned that Forsythe had been released, and had left Rajiid. Why the
+jaboowallah caused his vocal cords to be cut I cannot tell. I suppose,
+however, it was the brown devil’s method of punishing him for calling
+to his attendants while he was in the sacred precincts of the temple.
+
+I knew that, as a result of my pretended confession, riders and
+telegrams were being despatched to many villages in an attempt to head
+off the fleeing Bunda. A week passed, however, before I was summoned
+to the presence of the jaboowallah and there confronted with the paste
+stones I had obtained from Switzerland.
+
+I was asked whether or not these were the stones I had found in the
+wall. I replied that they were.
+
+Never have I beheld such a picture of chagrin as was presented by the
+jaboowallah at that moment. He believed that the famed eyes of the
+Rajiid Buddha had been nothing more than the imitation stones that now
+lay before him.
+
+I was told that I was free. Two hours later I was in the act of
+mounting the horse which was to bear me away from Rajiid when I was
+again assaulted. Once more I was thrust into the foul cave, and
+there, deprived of food and water, my sufferings soon became almost
+unendurable. In a week I felt that I was on the verge of becoming a
+raving maniac, then they gave me water and I was led out into the
+light. Something--whether it was the sun or a flash of burnished
+copper--suddenly dazzled me, and I fell.
+
+When I recovered consciousness, I found myself sitting on the floor of
+a squalid room, and muttering incoherently.
+
+“Give the sahib food,” a voice was saying.
+
+The speaker was the jaboowallah, and, as he passed out of the door in
+which he had been standing, I saw a European approach him. A moment
+later the stranger disappeared, but my single glance was enough.
+
+The stranger was Glyncamp!
+
+Had I betrayed my secret? Whimpering and laughing like a foolish child,
+I cried for food.
+
+It mattered not how much the American mind-reader had learned from me,
+the knowledge came to him too late.
+
+A week later, shattered in health and mind, I crawled out of the dark
+cave in which I had been confined. Where were my guards, and why had
+no one brought me food? As I stood, blinking the warm sunlight, I saw
+a man in khaki. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. The man was still
+before me, sitting on a stone, with a rifle across his knees. I called
+to him, and he turned. He shouted and discharged his gun in the air,
+and then ran toward me. It was a British soldier whom I never had seen
+before.
+
+“Are you Galonfield?” he asked.
+
+“Yes--yes--I’m--” I began falteringly.
+
+The man, bringing his heels together, saluted me as if I had been an
+officer.
+
+“Your friend, Lieutenant Blakeslee, is here, sir,” he said.
+
+Sky, trees, and distant native huts seemed to be flung together in
+a mighty mass, and I was dazzled by the whirling colors. I tottered
+forward, and, as I fell, the soldier caught me in his arms. When I came
+to my senses, I was lying on a camp cot, and Blakeslee was bending over
+me.
+
+“What has happened?” I managed to gasp.
+
+“I got to Shoorgai, and brought down the boys,” he said. “For two weeks
+we’ve combed the district in our search for you. You are twenty miles
+from where I saw you last. The jaboowallah fled--saw the game was up, I
+suppose.”
+
+“And Glyncamp?” I asked anxiously.
+
+“Oh, Glyncamp hasn’t been here, old man.”
+
+“Yes,” I muttered, weakly. “Glyncamp has been here and has learned all
+I knew.”
+
+As soon as I was able to make the journey, Blakeslee and I returned to
+England. There I learned that my plans had not miscarried. The jade
+image and the cylinder were safe in New York.
+
+Meantime, Forsythe had been incarcerated in an American insane asylum.
+Not knowing anything of the manner in which he had been persecuted,
+I did not suspect that he was at that moment perfectly sane and the
+victim of the jaboowallah’s spies.
+
+The very thought of the gems themselves was hateful to me, and I
+resolved to get rid of them at the earliest possible opportunity. To
+this end I sent to Meschid a letter that read as follows:
+
+  YOUR EXCELLENCY: Having succeeded in performing the task which you
+  set for me when we last met in London, I am now prepared to deliver
+  to you the articles which you demanded in exchange for the honor I
+  then sought at your hands. If, therefore, you will meet me in London
+  or Paris with the person who constitutes the third party to our
+  understanding, all the conditions of our compact will be promptly
+  executed.
+
+Three weeks passed before I received a reply. The Pasha said that,
+in order to fulfil the conditions we had agreed upon, it would be
+necessary for me to present myself at his residence in Constantinople
+and there deliver to him the articles which, as had been stipulated, he
+should receive.
+
+But I was still a marked man, and there were strong reasons for my
+hesitation to go beyond the pale of English law and the protection
+which it affords even to the humblest of England’s sons and daughters.
+
+I now sent to an attaché of the British embassy at Constantinople a
+letter in which I explained that I was betrothed to Meschid’s daughter,
+Pauline. I also said that, owing to my failure to get in communication
+with her, I desired to have agents employed to discover her present
+whereabouts. The answer I received to this was a telegram that read:
+
+  Pauline is Meschid’s stepdaughter. He married her mother, the widow
+  of the late Prince Maranotti, of Basselanto, Italy. The mother died
+  two years ago. Pauline fled to her stepbrother, the present Prince
+  Maranotti. Her whereabouts are unknown to us.
+
+At the end of a fortnight I was in Italy. Leaving Naples, I started
+for Basselanto. I had covered only a portion of the journey, however,
+when, in a newspaper that came to my hands, I saw a startling piece of
+intelligence.
+
+Prince Maranotti had been murdered at Basselanto only a few hours
+before!
+
+The dead man’s body, bruised and scratched, apparently by human hands,
+had been found at the foot of a cliff over which, it was thought, it
+had been hurled by the murderer.
+
+Two men were suspected of having committed the crime. Of these one was
+a man with a singularly grotesque face, whom no one in the vicinity of
+Basselanto remembered having seen before the day on which the Prince
+had met his death. A few hours before the body was found, however, he
+had been seen hurrying to the station, apparently in a great state of
+agitation.
+
+The second person under suspicion was an American college
+professor--Pietro Maranotti--a cousin to the man who had been slain.
+
+Arriving at Basselanto, I made inquiries concerning Pauline. From
+servants I learned that she had not been seen at Basselanto since, as
+an infant, she had been taken away by her mother, an Englishwoman, who,
+having been married to the former Prince, had fled from his cruelty.
+
+Despite all the privations to which I had been subjected since I had
+undertaken the quest of the Rajiid diamonds, my love for the beautiful
+young woman to whom Meschid had introduced me, had been strengthened
+rather than diminished. I asked myself why, if she was in trouble, she
+had made no attempt to communicate with me. I resolved that to the
+solution of this mystery I would address myself with even more energy
+than I had displayed in my search for the gems which, as it had been
+arranged, were to constitute the price of Meschid Pasha’s consent to
+our marriage. I was determined to employ all my time and whatever
+fortune I could command in finding the woman I loved.
+
+Once more I had recourse to detectives. These I directed to trace the
+movements of Pauline from the time she escaped from Meschid’s harem.
+It was not long before these men reported that they were crossing the
+trails of other detectives who were engaged in a similar search. Then
+I learned that the employer of these was no other than the mysterious
+Glyncamp, of whom I had seen or heard nothing since I saw him in India.
+
+My available funds were growing low, and I decided to sell the diamonds
+for which I had risked so much and for which Meschid Pasha had nothing
+to offer now. By doing this I would attain two objects. First, they
+would yield to me a sum sufficient to enable me to liquidate all the
+debts I had contracted, and, secondly, I would cease to be an object
+of the persecution of the unseen enemies who still threatened me.
+Having arrived at this determination, I sailed for the United States.
+
+Upon my arrival in New York I went to the best-known jeweler in that
+city. To this man I told the history of the Rajiid stones, and offered
+them for sale. He replied that he was unwilling to buy such costly gems
+as a matter of speculation, but that he would try to find a purchaser.
+A few days later he wrote to me, requesting me to call on Hewitt
+Westfall.
+
+It was with Mr. Westfall that I went to the vault in which the cylinder
+and the jade image were deposited, and it was in his study that the
+cylinder was opened and the jade image broken. There, for the first
+time since the Indian Mutiny, the wonderful gems flashed together, and
+it is to Mr. Westfall that they now belong.
+
+To the purchaser of the lost eyes of Rajiid’s Buddha I told the story
+of my quest for them. Strangely enough, he appeared to have heard
+something of one or two of the persons I had mentioned, and he offered
+to cooperate with me in my search for Pauline if I would consent to
+submit to him certain reports that I had received from my agents. This
+I did not hesitate to do.
+
+Two weeks ago Mr. Westfall invited me to this dinner, and at that
+time he expressed the belief that he would be able to number among
+his guests the young woman whom I had known as Meschid’s daughter. He
+has kept his word, and now, in the presence of those who have heard
+the story of my adventures, I offer to her who inspired me with the
+determination to undertake them the love, name, and fortune which, many
+months ago, I offered to her in the London house of Meschid Pasha.
+
+As the Decapitated Man finished speaking, he rose from his chair and
+gazed earnestly toward where the Veiled Aeronaut sat with bowed head,
+at the foot of the table. But from the unseen lips of the heroine of
+his romantic tale there came no sound.
+
+The silence was broken at length by Hewitt Westfall, who, rising, said:
+
+“It is unfortunate that the endings of many true love stories should
+be so uncertain that we have to guess at them, but in this so much yet
+remains to be told that the story may be said to be scarcely more than
+begun. Even the lady to whom his lordship just has addressed himself
+has much to learn from others before she will be able to tell him
+whether or not joy or sorrow will crown the efforts he has made to win
+her.”
+
+The Fugitive Bridegroom, whose face now wore a grayish pallor, half
+rose from his seat. Glaring at the Decapitated Man, he asked, in a
+voice that trembled with emotion:
+
+“Do I understand, sir, that the lady to whom you have referred as
+‘Pauline’ is--is my wife?”
+
+“Your wife!” exclaimed the Decapitated Man, looking wonderingly at the
+Veiled Aeronaut.
+
+“No,” said the Sentimental Gargoyle, in a tone of decision. “Though the
+lady may have given our friend, the Fugitive Bridegroom, some reason to
+believe that he was her husband, I protest that she is not his wife.”
+
+“And I maintain, sir----” began the Fugitive Bridegroom, impatiently.
+
+“Well, well, let the lady tell her own story,” interrupted the Nervous
+Physician, pettishly. “Until then----”
+
+“Stop, gentlemen,” said Westfall, calmly. “All of you shall be heard in
+good time, and it will be from the Veiled Aeronaut that we will hear
+next. But, as it is now well after midnight, we shall be compelled
+to wait until we reassemble in the evening. Meantime, according to
+our arrangement, there must be no discussion of the subjects that are
+reserved for after dinner.”
+
+The guests thereupon rose, and, with bewildered faces, made their way
+to their respective staterooms.
+
+Breakfast was not served until nine o’clock. The One-eyed Duckhunter,
+accompanied by the Decapitated Man, went out after ducks, while the
+Whispering Gentleman, the Homicidal Professor and the Hypochondriacal
+Painter sat down with Westfall to a game of bridge. The Fugitive
+Bridegroom and the Veiled Aeronaut remained in their staterooms, and
+the Sentimental Gargoyle found employment in writing verses on a little
+table that was placed for him near the sarcophagus containing the mummy
+of the Princess Tushepu, of the Twentieth Dynasty.
+
+At three o’clock all except the Veiled Aeronaut sat down to luncheon.
+Dinner was served at half past seven, and, when this was finished,
+Westfall announced that the Veiled Aeronaut was prepared to relate the
+story of her adventures.
+
+The guests then seated themselves in comfortable attitudes and the
+Veiled Aeronaut began her story.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI
+
+                         A WANDERER FROM ARABY
+
+
+Incredible as my assertion may appear to you who have just heard Lord
+Galonfield relate his remarkable adventures, I may truly say that not
+at any time since the night on which his lordship told me that he loved
+me have I believed that his conduct on that occasion was inspired
+by any motive other than a desire to obtain a fortune which, I was
+assured, he believed would go with my hand.
+
+Despite the fact that Meschid Pasha introduced me as his daughter,
+there is not a drop of Moslem blood in my veins. My mother was the
+daughter of Sir George Bridwell, a member of the British House of
+Commons. When she was only twenty years of age, she became the second
+wife of Prince Maranotti, the head of one of the noble families of
+Italy. By his first wife Prince Maranotti had a son--Victor--who was
+seven years old at the time of my mother’s marriage.
+
+I was born a year after my mother became the Princess Maranotti. For
+several months prior to my birth, the Prince’s unreasonable jealousy
+had caused him to treat my mother with a degree of cruelty that was
+almost inhuman. After I was born the Prince’s conduct became so
+unbearable that, when I was only five months old, my mother, with me
+in her arms, and accompanied only by a maid, fled from Italy. Her
+brother had been serving as an attaché to the British embassy in
+Constantinople, and it was to him she fled now for protection.
+
+Upon our arrival in the Turkish capital, my mother learned that her
+brother, having obtained leave of absence, had set out for England
+only a few days before. The funds then in her possession were little
+more than sufficient to take her and her infant and maid to England.
+This course, however, she hesitated to follow. Her father was a man
+dominated by a strong sense of duty, and she feared that he would
+compel her to return to Prince Maranotti, whose vengeful disposition
+was likely to cause him to inflict some terrible punishment upon
+her. Despite her fears, she finally decided to go to London, but she
+resolved that if Sir George reproached her with her conduct she would
+seek refuge with relatives of her mother.
+
+We were stopping then at a hotel in Pera, and, in order to elude Prince
+Maranotti, or such agents as he might have employed to seek her, my
+mother assumed the name of Mrs. Andrew Fenchurch. When her preparations
+for her journey were completed, she sent for a couple of carriages
+to take us and our luggage to the vessel on which we were to embark.
+Entering the first carriage, with me in her arms, my mother directed
+the maid to seat herself in the second, which contained articles of
+value, and to meet us at the quay.
+
+As the two carriages drew away from the hotel, my mother, though
+wearing a thick veil, still feared discovery, and so drew down the
+curtains of the vehicle in which she was seated.
+
+At length the carriage stopped, and my mother, raising one of the
+curtains, looked out. Instead of the entrance to the quay, she beheld
+the richly carved walls of a splendid courtyard. Throwing open the
+door, my mother called to the driver. The man made no reply, but a
+few moments later four negroes, seizing her by the arms, forced her
+to alight and enter a door which was opened at her approach. A fifth
+negro, closely following the others, carried me in his arms. When the
+negroes released my mother, she found herself in a sumptuous apartment
+which, she was informed, was one of a suite in the harem of Meschid
+Pasha.
+
+Too terrified to question further the black-skinned men who were
+stationed outside the door, my mother spent nearly twenty minutes of
+nerve-racking suspense. Then there entered the apartment a man about
+thirty-five years of age, with pleasing features and a sturdy figure.
+He was clad in Turkish dress, and in him my mother recognized one of
+the passengers who had been aboard the vessel that had brought her from
+Naples.
+
+To my mother this man then made the most ardent protestations of
+affection. Because of the black garments she had worn since her
+departure from Italy, he had thought her to be a widow, and had hoped
+to win her consent to become his wife. My mother indignantly spurned
+the affection that he offered her, and demanded her liberty.
+
+Apparently thoroughly crestfallen, Meschid retired. On the following
+day he told my mother he suddenly had been ordered to join the army
+in one of the Arabian provinces. This assignment, he said, would
+necessitate his absence from Constantinople for several months. He
+informed her, however, that during this period she would be treated
+with the utmost respect by the members of his household, but that she
+was not to make any attempt to regain her freedom. My mother, who was
+now a prisoner, resolved to submit to the conditions which the Pasha
+had imposed upon her until such a time as her brother might return to
+his post.
+
+Each week English and French newspapers were brought to my mother’s
+room by respectful attendants, and by means of these she learned that,
+shortly after his return to London, her brother had married and retired
+from the diplomatic service. More important than this, however, were
+reports that Prince Maranotti, believing that there had been ample
+grounds for his jealousy, was convinced that his wife had eloped with
+one of her admirers. Accordingly he had divorced her.
+
+When Meschid returned to Constantinople, his wooing of my mother was
+resumed. This time he did not sue in vain. The light came back to
+her eyes, and among the first of my memories were the songs she used
+to sing while the infatuated Pasha, standing beside the piano he had
+brought to her from Paris, turned the sheets of music that lay before
+her. In the years that followed she bore to Meschid three sons and two
+daughters.
+
+Perhaps it was my mother’s many evidences of affection for me, the
+child of her first marriage, that caused my stepfather to dislike me.
+But, though I knew I would never share the love that he bestowed upon
+my brothers and sisters, I never feared him. In his way he was kind
+to me. When my mother expressed a wish that I might have an English
+governess who should prepare me for that world that lay beyond the
+walls of the harem, her fond husband readily consented.
+
+My education was as strange as were my early associations. I was taught
+English, French and Turkish, and soon became proficient in music and
+drawing. In my early youth I was inordinately fond of fairy tales. I
+was taught to read the Bible and the Koran, and of these the Koran
+was my favorite. But of all the books that were placed in my youthful
+hands, those which pleased me most were the works of the old Persian
+poets, whose lutes were attuned to the praise of Oriental loves, the
+songs of birds, the splashing of fountains and the voices of angels,
+peris and genii who lurked amid whispering trees and fragrant, nodding
+flowers.
+
+After her marriage to the Pasha, my mother was free to leave the house
+whenever she listed. But, whether she walked or rode through the crowded
+streets, there was none among those she passed who would be bold enough
+to imagine that the bright eyes that looked through her _yashmak_, or
+the graceful form that was enclosed by her _farendje_ were those of a
+daughter of Old England, who, having been an unhappy Italian Princess,
+was now the contented wife of a distinguished Mussulman.
+
+Despite the indifference of my stepfather, I think I should have been
+content to remain in that luxurious, song-haunted harem forever, had
+not, when I was eighteen years of age, a terrible misfortune befallen
+me. This was the death of my mother.
+
+Then all light suddenly went out of my life. The songs which had made
+the harem seem to us like a corner of the Prophet’s paradise were heard
+no more, except when, like spirit voices, we heard them echoing faintly
+in the dim-lighted, rose-scented chambers of our memories. No more did
+Meschid enter the harem with smiling lips and expectant eyes. His face
+had become more stolid--his gaze more abstracted and severe.
+
+Two of my half-brothers--Abdul and Ildebrin--no longer made their
+quarters in the harem, and, after the departure of Ildebrin, then
+fourteen years of age, the place became more cheerless than before.
+When I was nineteen, my English governess died. I felt that I was quite
+friendless now.
+
+Fond as I was of dress and jewels, with which I was well supplied,
+vanity never had been numbered among my faults, but there came a time
+when the praise of plain-spoken women visitors brought to me the
+knowledge that my physical attractions were far greater than those of
+my dark-skinned half-sisters, who resembled their father, rather than
+their mother. These comparisons were always displeasing to me, for I
+saw that my sisters were becoming less and less disposed to mask the
+aversion with which I inspired them. For the first time I realized that
+I was living on the bounty of a man to whom I was bound by no ties
+of blood. Meschid was a devout Mussulman while I--half English, half
+Italian--had not a drop of Moslem blood in my veins.
+
+At length there reached the harem a rumor that Meschid Pasha, who
+during the lifetime of my mother had no other wife, was about to wed
+again. I knew that he or his daughters had no love for me, and I
+wondered what would be my position in the harem when the new wife was
+placed at its head.
+
+The star of my destiny had risen, however. Meschid had seen it, but not
+I.
+
+And so it came to pass, while I was preparing to go out among the shops
+one morning, that Meschid entered the harem, and, by a gesture, bade me
+accompany him to one of the rooms where we might be alone.
+
+After we seated ourselves, Meschid looked at me long and thoughtfully,
+without speaking.
+
+“Pauline,” he said, at length, “what is your faith?”
+
+It was the first time he ever had spoken to me on the subject of
+religion, and I colored with embarrassment.
+
+“My mother died a Christian, did she not?” I murmured.
+
+Meschid nodded.
+
+“Yes--she died a Christian,” he answered, with a sigh. “She made me
+promise I would not make you change your faith. That promise shall be
+kept.”
+
+Then, after a little pause, he added, gloomily:
+
+“Your father is a Christian, too.”
+
+I did not reply to this, and for several minutes Meschid sat looking
+abstractedly at the floor.
+
+What had my stepfather come to say to me? With a fluttering heart I
+looked around at the walls that once had constituted a part of my
+mother’s home. I knew that the time was at hand when I should say
+farewell to them forever.
+
+“Most Moslem girls marry before they are sixteen,” Meschid said,
+musingly. “You are nineteen, I believe.”
+
+The gates of Dreamland seemed to be opening their portals to me now,
+and I felt as if peris, standing at my side, were pointing to where the
+heroes who so often had visited my girlish fancies were gazing on me
+from the mystic city’s walls.
+
+“Yes--yes, I know,” I faltered.
+
+“If you are to remain a Christian, you must have a Christian husband,”
+Meschid said.
+
+A great fear smote me. Would there come a time when, like Giaour women,
+I would have to appear with my face unveiled in city streets?
+
+“And I have one in view,” Meschid added.
+
+I was trembling violently. For better or for worse, my fate was sealed.
+There was nothing I might do of my own volition--nothing I could say.
+
+Meschid rose.
+
+“We will start for England to-morrow,” he said.
+
+Involuntarily I clapped my hands.
+
+“For my mother’s country!” I exclaimed, half-joyfully. “Ah, it must be
+very beautiful in England, for my mother loved it so.”
+
+A frown settled on the Pasha’s face, and he looked at me darkly.
+
+“Yes,” he said, sighing as he turned away. “Yes, your mother loved
+it--once. But, sometimes, I fancied she was happy here.”
+
+He left me then, and, with feverish haste, I began my preparations for
+the long journey on which I was to set out on the morrow.
+
+When we had embarked on the steamer that was to take us from the
+Bosphorus to Naples, I laid aside my _yashmak_, but, in obedience to
+the command of Meschid, I had all meals served in my stateroom, which I
+never left without a heavy green or gray veil over my face. At Naples
+we boarded a train for the north, and, in due time, we arrived in
+England.
+
+In London a house was in readiness for our occupancy, and I marveled
+much when I saw how greatly its appointments resembled those of Turkish
+homes. It had its harem and its selamlik, but here I had less liberty
+than in Constantinople, for, under no circumstances, was I permitted
+to leave the harem unless I was accompanied by my stepfather. We took
+several drives together, and on these occasions I wore one of the
+French gowns that constituted part of my traveling wardrobe, but I
+was not permitted to raise my veil, which, unlike a _yashmak_, had no
+opening for the eyes.
+
+While I was in this London house I suddenly was summoned to the
+selamlik and there found myself in the presence of Lord Galonfield. My
+stepfather bade me remove my veil, and, for the first time since I was
+ten years old, my face was revealed to a man who was not a member of my
+stepfather’s household.
+
+Scarcely had I acknowledged my introduction to Lord Galonfield when I
+became conscious of the fact that a strange person had followed me into
+the room. This person was clad in a black gown and _yashmak_, but whose
+face it was that was concealed by the _yashmak_ I did not attempt to
+guess.
+
+Believing that in Lord Galonfield I beheld the man who was to become
+my husband, I studied him critically. His marked admiration for me,
+his gentle manner and apparent manliness were not without effect. He
+pleased me, and I told myself that I would be content to be his wife.
+
+When Lord Galonfield left the house, I asked my stepfather whether or
+not my surmise was correct. He answered, coldly, that nothing had been
+decided, but that it was more than probable that Lord Galonfield would
+ask for my hand.
+
+I then sought information concerning the black-garmented woman I had
+seen.
+
+“It is a lady in whom I have the most implicit confidence,” Meschid
+replied. “In no circumstances are you to see Lord Galonfield except in
+her presence. If he asks you who she is, you may tell him that she is
+Ayesha, a Moslem woman to whose charge you have been confided during
+your residence in England. Discourage all further questioning on the
+subject, and abstain from it yourself.”
+
+Lord Galonfield’s visits now became frequent, and, when he called, my
+stepfather arranged matters so that his lordship, the mysterious Ayesha
+and I were left together for an hour. It was only at these times that I
+saw Ayesha at all.
+
+Each visit found Lord Galonfield’s regard for me increasing, and at
+length he threw aside all restraint and, telling me that he loved me,
+he asked me to be his wife. I inquired whether he had obtained the
+consent of my stepfather. He replied that he had not, but would try to
+do so. Again he asked me if I loved him, but, just as I was in the act
+of confessing that I did, my stepfather entered the room. Meschid, to
+my great surprise, bitterly rebuked his lordship for thus declaring
+his sentiments to me, then he ordered me to return to the harem. I was
+on my way thither when the idea occurred to me to address the strange
+woman who had attended me. Turning suddenly to do this, I saw that my
+companion, believing that I was on the point of entering the apartments
+of the harem, had removed the _yashmak_. The face that was revealed by
+this action was one of the most extraordinary I had ever seen--a face
+with long, masculine features--the face of a man about fifty years of
+age, and who, wearing a dark, trailing gown, at once reminded me of
+descriptions I had read of old astrologers.
+
+This singular person did not perceive that I had seen him, and, almost
+terrified by my discovery, and fearful of the consequences of the act,
+I hurried into the harem and closed the door.
+
+Having a premonition that, late as it was, my stepfather might desire
+to see me after Lord Galonfield left, I made no preparations to retire
+for the night. I was not mistaken. Twenty minutes later Meschid entered
+the harem.
+
+My stepfather appeared to be greatly agitated. After severely
+reproaching me because I had permitted Lord Galonfield to place an arm
+around me while he was declaring his love, he told me that if I had
+been so unfortunate as to let the young Englishman find a place in my
+heart I must banish all thoughts of him from my mind at once.
+
+“I had thought that he would have found your charms sufficient dowry,”
+he added, bitterly. “But the heathen dog would have me rob my own
+children by yielding to him with you one-half of my estate.”
+
+My heart grew cold, and a sense of desolation entered it. Then,
+suddenly, a wild rush of anger and indignation choked me. It was not
+I, but the dowry he sought, that had appeared so beautiful to his eyes.
+
+“Are all men so base as that?” I gasped, as my wounded pride fluttered
+in my bosom like a frightened, half-stifled dove in a smoke-filled cage.
+
+“No,” said Meschid, thoughtfully, “but young men are much the same.
+An older man makes a more affectionate and indulgent husband. But
+let us have no more of England. You have seen how gray and fog-bound
+it is, and what we have to expect of its people. Shall we return to
+Constantinople to-morrow, and forget that we ever have known this
+grasping man they call a lord?”
+
+“Yes--yes,” I murmured, eagerly.
+
+And the next morning we set forth for the distant Orient.
+
+Tortured as I was by outraged love and the bitter pangs of a proud
+woman’s humiliation, the journey homeward seemed like one long
+nightmare. Arriving in Constantinople, I found no one in the house
+of Meschid Pasha to bid me welcome. My sisters regarded me coldly or
+with sneers. The man to whom I had been offered as a wife had seen and
+rejected me.
+
+During the month that followed my return, I saw little of my
+stepfather. Most of this time, a prey to bitter reflections, I remained
+in my room, reading or engaged in needlework.
+
+One day there came a knock on my door, and Meschid entered.
+
+“Here is something that may interest you,” he said, carelessly, and,
+as he spoke, he handed me a French newspaper. Around a paragraph which
+consisted of five or six lines a pencilled circle had been drawn.
+
+I saw that the article was an announcement of the death of Prince
+Giuseppe Maranotti--my father.
+
+If Meschid had expected to read in my face any sign of sorrow or
+satisfaction, he was disappointed. I thanked him coldly, and laid the
+paper aside. The announcement scarcely had interested me.
+
+On the following day Meschid visited me again. This time, to my
+utter amazement, he bade me put on my veil and accompany him to his
+selamlik--an apartment in which Turkish men receive their male friends,
+and which no female member of the family is supposed to enter.
+
+Upon entering the selamlik, I perceived the figure of a man standing
+beside one of the windows. As the visitor turned toward me and I saw
+his face, I started and an exclamation of alarm escaped me.
+
+The man before me was the one who, in the guise of a Turkish woman, had
+been present at my interviews with Lord Galonfield!
+
+In a low, brusque voice, my stepfather bade me remove my veil. With
+trembling fingers I did so.
+
+“Pauline,” said Meschid, “this is Mr. Glyncamp, an American, who has
+honored us by asking for your hand.”
+
+With a little cry of pain, I shrank from the burning eyes and
+outstretched hand of the long, grim-featured man who now approached me.
+
+“No--no--oh, God, no!” I exclaimed. “Do not tell me that! I
+cannot--I----”
+
+My stepfather laughed mirthlessly, and then said:
+
+“It is a little sudden, you must admit, Mr. Glyncamp. Even Galonfield
+disappointed her, for all her dreams of a husband have had a fairy
+prince for their subject. But, Pauline, my dear, you dreamt better than
+you knew. Your future husband has powers which are commonly attributed
+only to fairies. He will make you happy and, taking you without a
+dowry, he will give to you a home to which you will have a better
+claim than that which you now have on mine.”
+
+I was now trembling so violently that, I think, I should have fallen,
+had not my stepfather’s next words assured me that I should have a
+respite, at least, from the terrible fate that thus confronted me.
+
+“Mr. Glyncamp is going on a long journey to the East, and he will not
+wed you until his return,” Meschid went on. “It was such a journey that
+I made when your mother rejected my suit. When I returned, your mother
+was more favorably disposed. May it be so with you.”
+
+I bowed to Glyncamp, and, summoning all my fortitude, I weakly thanked
+him for the honor he had done me. He smiled as he told me that, having
+seen me, the memory of my face would be ever with him on his travels
+and that, therefore, I would find him looking younger on his return.
+
+Hurrying back to the harem, I entered my room, locked the door and
+flung myself down on an ottoman. Convinced that life held nothing more
+for me now that was worth the having, I abandoned myself to despair,
+and thought of suicide. Then, suddenly, a new idea entered my mind.
+
+I would flee from Meschid as my mother had fled from my father.
+
+But to whom should I turn for aid? My mother’s father and brother were
+dead, and I knew nothing of her other relatives. Then my thoughts
+turned to the Maranottis--to Victor, now the head of the house. Was he
+like his father? Did he, too, share the belief that my mother’s flight
+had been due to another cause than the cruelty of her husband? Perhaps
+family pride would impel him to come to my relief. I would send for him.
+
+With the marks of my tears still upon my face, I seated myself at my
+writing desk and wrote to the young Prince a long letter in which I
+told him all that I had suffered since the death of my mother. When I
+finished writing, I read the letter over carefully, then thrust it into
+an envelope and addressed it to him at his country seat at Basselanto.
+
+Four miserable, heart-breaking, nerve-racking weeks passed, and, as I
+failed to get a reply to my pitiful appeal, I again resigned myself
+to despair. But, shortly after leaving the house one day to visit the
+cemetery in which my poor mother now slept amid the cypresses and
+flowers, I felt a hand fall on my shoulder. Turning quickly, I beheld a
+woman who wore a _yashmak_.
+
+“You are Pauline?” the stranger asked, in English.
+
+The accents were soft and gentle, but I hesitated.
+
+“You are Pauline Maranotti?” the woman asked again.
+
+“Yes, madame,” I answered, faintly.
+
+“Let us walk on,” the other said in a low, confidential voice. “I am
+from the Prince--your half-brother.”
+
+With a little cry that was almost a sob, I grasped her arm.
+
+“He is here--in Constantinople?” I asked eagerly.
+
+“No, he is not here,” the woman answered. “He was unable to come
+himself, so he sent me to take you to him. There is a carriage awaiting
+us in yonder street. Let us hasten to it. We can talk better there.”
+
+Once more fear gripped my heart.
+
+“How am I to know that you----” I began, but the veiled stranger
+interrupted me.
+
+“Come with me to the carriage,” she said quietly. “You shall be
+convinced before you confide yourself to my care.”
+
+When we were out of view of Meschid’s house I saw a closed carriage
+with two horses standing in the street that my guide had mentioned. At
+the step of the carriage my companion paused and took from her pocket a
+little leather case. She pressed a spring, and a cover, flying open,
+disclosed within a beautiful miniature surrounded by a lock of dark
+brown hair. It was an exquisite portrait of my mother, painted before
+my birth. I had heard her speak of this gift that she had given to the
+Prince on her wedding day, and I knew that the lock of hair was her own.
+
+With a little sob, I turned to my guide.
+
+“You may take me where you will,” I said.
+
+The woman who had come to my rescue was Mrs. Woodson, an American,
+who, with her artist husband, long had lived in Rome. She was a few
+years older than my mother, whom she had known prior to her marriage to
+Prince Maranotti.
+
+A few days after my flight from Constantinople, Prince Victor Maranotti
+welcomed me in Rome. I found my brother to be a singularly kindly and
+handsome young man, and the moment I looked upon his face, I knew that
+a merciful fate had led me at last to a natural protector.
+
+After listening to my story, the Prince informed me that, in the
+circumstances, it would be better for me to remain incognito in Rome
+until the following week, when it would be necessary for him to start
+for the United States where he had extensive business interests.
+
+“In America, for a time, at least, you will be safe from the
+persecutions of Meschid and his friend, Glyncamp, of whose strange
+performances I often have heard,” he said. “There are several reasons
+why it is better that you should not assume the title of Princess
+Pauline Maranotti now.”
+
+What the reasons were, he did not tell me, but I suspected that,
+despite his friendliness, his family pride prevented him from publicly
+acknowledging as his sister the daughter of a woman who, having
+deserted his father, became the inmate of a Turkish harem.
+
+Little did I think when I saw the shores of America rise from the
+western horizon that here awaited me a new and no less alarming series
+of misfortunes. I had been fleeing from persons and circumstances which
+threatened my undoing, but the objects of these fears were known to me.
+Now, however, I was about to be confronted by conditions which, though
+constantly threatening me, were involved in mysteries which no art of
+mine would enable me to fathom.
+
+A few hours before we sighted land, the Prince, seated beside me in a
+corner of the deck that we had to ourselves, gave to me a clearer idea
+concerning his plans for me than he had vouchsafed before.
+
+For many years my father had been heavily interested in the development
+of American mining properties, some of which had yielded him large
+profits. He had not made these investments in his own name, however,
+and his principal representative in these transactions was a man named
+Trevison, who now was well advanced in years, and childless.
+
+Assuring me that it was in my interest that I should not assume the
+name of Maranotti, the Prince suggested that, as Paula Trevison, I
+should be known as Mr. Trevison’s daughter. Then he added:
+
+“If you are believed to be the daughter of this old man, who is now
+pretty close to the grave, you will find yourself in a well-defined
+position, from which, by reason of your natural charms and your various
+accomplishments, you may steadily advance. Nearly all the large fortune
+which Trevison is handling over here, and which really is mine, is
+believed to belong to him. I will so arrange matters that, after his
+death, it will appear that you have inherited from him a sum sufficient
+to give you a comfortable income. Meantime, whenever I visit the United
+States, I, assuming the name of Trevison, as I am doing now, may be
+recognized as your brother.”
+
+“You will be known by a false name over here, only in order that you
+may aid me?” I asked, suspiciously.
+
+The Prince laughed gaily.
+
+“Oh, no,” he said. “Even if I had not brought you with me I would have
+to be known as Trevison.”
+
+“I am afraid I do not understand,” I murmured, wonderingly.
+
+“Well, then, I will explain,” the Prince went on more gravely. “I am
+only doing what was done by my father, but in a slightly different
+way. On his visit to this country he always represented himself as
+old Trevison’s brother. The reason for it was this: Poor as it is,
+Italy still retains much of its ancestral pride, and it has not been
+confronted with the spectacle of the head of a noble family engaging in
+commercial pursuits. Yet, for more than a quarter of a century, such
+pursuits have made the house of Maranotti one of the most influential
+in the kingdom. But the Maranotti who followed these pursuits has been
+known in America as a Trevison. In the United States his identity was
+unknown. In Italy, none of the nobles know the name of Trevison.”
+
+On the day of our arrival in New York, my brother and I, who were
+registered at our hotel as ‘Thomas Trevison and Paula Trevison,’
+met the man who had a rightful claim to the surname. He was very
+old--almost eighty I should say--and his face had an almost unearthly
+pallor. In a shaking voice, he greeted my princely brother with a
+familiarity that startled me.
+
+“Well, Tom, the old man beat me out in our race for the grave,” he
+said. “But I reckon I’ll be spry enough to let out a few links that
+will make him think he’s standing still, after I catch up with him on
+the other side. Are you going West this trip?”
+
+Shocked by this old man’s gruesome jocularity, I was glad to escape
+from his presence. That evening, however, we dined together in a
+fashionable restaurant where the irreverent patriarch seemed to be
+perfectly at ease. He was frequently addressed respectfully by men who
+passed our table, and to several of these he explained that I was his
+daughter.
+
+“She’s just back from Europe where she’s had a few foreigners
+completing her training,” he said. “Most people think Europe’s the
+best place to get female metal out of our Western ore, so Paula’s been
+passing through the mill over there. Doesn’t look as if it did her much
+harm, does it now?”
+
+My brother smiled as if he saw some humor in this sort of thing, but I,
+shocked almost beyond the power of expression by the roughness of it
+all, felt my face flush hotly as I heard the person addressed chuckle
+good-naturedly and mutter compliments which, while frank enough,
+perhaps, were devoid of delicacy.
+
+The following day my brother told me that, as he found it desirable
+to visit the West, where some of his mining properties were situated,
+he had arranged that I should spend a few weeks in the Adirondack
+Mountains, with a widowed niece of Trevison’s. He had been assured that
+it was a delightful retreat, and that its isolation was of a nature to
+commend it to us.
+
+Having determined on this course, our preparations soon were made for
+the journey. As we were passing along the station platform, between two
+waiting trains, a strange thing happened. The click of a car window,
+suddenly raised, attracted my attention and a man’s head and shoulders
+were thrust out.
+
+With a little exclamation of alarm, I drew back. The man’s face was the
+most grotesque I had ever seen. His eyes, turned suddenly to mine, held
+my gaze. In the very ugliness of this stranger there was something that
+fascinated me.
+
+“What is the matter?” asked my brother, who observed that I had stopped.
+
+Quickly recovering my presence of mind, I laughed nervously, and said:
+
+“It is nothing, but I never expected that I would see a live gargoyle.
+In those wonderful mountains to which you are taking me, I shall not be
+surprised to encounter peris and genii.”
+
+My brother, whose quick eyes had by this time discovered the face that
+had caused me such consternation, laughed lightly as he replied:
+
+“By Heaven, you are right! The man is a veritable gargoyle.”
+
+I heard the window close with a slam, but I did not look over my
+shoulder to assure myself that the strange creature was no longer
+there. All during that long journey to the mountains, that weird,
+unearthly face haunted me. I saw it staring at me from the shimmering
+waters of the Hudson. It took form among the giant boulders and wooden
+summits of the Catskills, and, at eve, I saw it lurking among the great
+cloud-curtains that folded in the sunset.
+
+Not until near the close of the second day of our journey did we arrive
+at our destination, and, ah, how may I describe the splendid spectacle
+that then revealed itself to my eyes?
+
+Alighting from a “buckboard,” one of the most torture-inflicting
+vehicles in which man ever traversed rough mountain roads, I found
+myself on the pebbled margin of a turquoise lake that was dotted
+everywhere with lily-pads, whose white and yellow flowers sifted
+into the virile, pine-odored air a perfume that was as fragrant and
+langorous as the breath of love.
+
+Walled in by great mountain slopes, from the sides of which rose
+larches as lofty and majestic as cathedral spires, I felt as if I were
+standing in an enchanted valley. The mountainsides were thickly wooded,
+and here and there great seams of granite were visible through rifts
+in the deep, green foliage, so that the valley had the aspect of a
+crystal-bottomed basin wrought out of a single emerald that had been
+inlaid with silver tracery. Among the trees fluttered birds unlike any
+I had ever seen before, but their sweet, full-throated songs seemed to
+be no more than the pattering of raindrops on the surface of a sea of
+silence--a silence so weird and illimitable that, appalled, I felt as
+if I were standing in the vestibule of infinity.
+
+Dazed by the wild splendor of my environment, I felt as the Emperor of
+China might have done when from his window he for the first time beheld
+the splendid palace which genii hands had wrought for Aladdin in a
+single night.
+
+I was roused from my trance by the sounds of strange voices. Then I saw
+two strangers, clad in rough garments of countrymen, approaching to
+take charge of the horses that had drawn our two buckboards through the
+mountains.
+
+As I looked around for the house which was to be my home for the next
+two weeks, I saw a large, squat structure built of logs. In the door
+of this stood a portly woman, with gray hair. Despite the charms and
+reassuring isolation of this mountain retreat, a suspicion that this
+log-house was the dwelling to which I had been consigned filled me
+with alarm. I had been told that among these mountains deer, bears
+and other wild animals were numerous, and the general aspect of the
+building recalled pictures I had seen of assaults made by Indians on
+the houses of white settlers. Were there Indians here?
+
+The motherly face of the elderly woman, who was now approaching, partly
+reassured me, and I saw that the men who were busying themselves with
+the horses were honest-featured, sturdy and marvelously self-possessed.
+
+The woman--whose name I was informed was Mrs. Seaver--welcomed me with
+the dignity of a princess in the doorway of her castle. As she led me
+into the log-house, I gazed about me with the most lively sensation of
+pleased surprise. The place was as carefully kept as a palace hall,
+and in the charming rooms through which she led me I beheld all the
+luxuries of Western civilization--a piano, pictures, shelves of books,
+the heads of animals which I had seen only in picture form, comfortable
+chairs, soft rugs, cosy ‘dens’, and beds which I thought were the
+whitest and neatest in all the world.
+
+Clapping my hands with delight, I laughed as I had not done for many
+months.
+
+Fanned by balsam-breathing breezes, I slept that night as, I think, I
+never slept before. I had never thought that in all the world was to be
+found a place that was capable of inspiring such a sense of ineffable
+peace as this.
+
+The next day my brother left. But, however kindly I had come to regard
+him, I was not now conscious of a feeling of loss. The wilderness had
+taken me into its heart, and, thoroughly enamoured, I was happy there.
+
+Little by little I conquered the pleasurable fear with which the dark
+recesses of the wood-clad slopes had inspired me. In the course of
+the first three days an uncontrollable desire to see wild animals in
+their native haunts took possession of me. I learned to use the paddle
+of a canoe, and I acted like an overjoyed child when, by my efforts, I
+succeeded in sending the frail craft out over the shimmering surface
+of the lily-dotted lake. Turtles, chipmunks, sportive minnows and
+long-leaping water spiders filled me with delight, and how shall I
+describe the sensations that overwhelmed me when, as I looked out of my
+open window late one moonlight night, I saw three deer steal from out a
+leafy covert and move down to the waterside to drink?
+
+I had been in the Adirondacks a little more than a week, when a new and
+greater wonder presented itself to my view. Upon awakening, early one
+morning, I rose and stepped to my window, as was my custom, to steal a
+glimpse at the great tree-crowded amphitheatre and to inhale the fresh,
+balsam-laden air before dressing for breakfast. My lips were framing a
+prayer of heartfelt thankfulness that, here in the heart of this vast
+wilderness, I was so far from all I feared, when something that was
+pinned to one of the swaying white curtains of the window attracted
+and held my attention. As, with wondering eyes, I leaned toward it,
+I saw that it was a delicately tinted, square envelope on which were
+inscribed the words: “For Paula.”
+
+The only person who had thus addressed me since my arrival in America
+was the Prince, and though the handwriting before me now was apparently
+that of a man, I was certain that my brother was not the writer.
+
+The envelope was unsealed, and, thrusting in my fingers I drew out a
+sheet of notepaper on which were written the following verses:
+
+              TO PAULA
+
+                Sleep,
+    And the starlight shines,
+    Like Faith, among the pines,
+        To all revealing
+    Thy trust in man and maid.
+    And while from out the shade
+        Of Earth are stealing
+    Thy thoughts that dreamward go,
+    I, keeping vigil, know
+        Love’s bells are pealing.
+
+                Wake,
+    And the starlight dies,
+    For then, athwart the skies,
+        Thy glances, streaming,
+    Do prove thou art the sun.
+    Now that his vigil’s done
+        And thou art beaming,
+    Fond Hope doth close his eyes
+    But, as in sleep he lies,
+        Of thee he’s dreaming.
+
+Tingling with pleasure, I re-read the lines. These were the first
+verses I had ever read in the handwriting of their author, and a great
+wonder filled me as I asked myself whether, indeed, it was I who had
+inspired them. But this question quickly gave place to one of still
+greater import.
+
+Who had written them?
+
+I now found myself thoroughly bewildered. Except the Prince and Mr.
+Trevison, there was no person in the United States with whom I had
+exchanged more than a few, perfunctory words prior to coming to the
+mountains, and in my new home Mrs. Seaver and the servants were the
+only persons who, so far as I had been able to learn, were within
+many miles of me. That the lines had been written by one of the
+rough-mannered and illiterate manservants, was, of course, impossible.
+But what other man had been in the neighborhood? Who was it who had
+come to my window while I slept?
+
+Once more the old fears took possession of me. Had I been followed from
+Europe by someone who----? But, no, this, too, was impossible. While
+there I had only two suitors--Lord Galonfield and Glyncamp. The first
+had sought me only for the wealth he believed me to possess, and the
+second had gone to Asia. Thus, except Meschid, Prince Maranotti and
+Trevison, all men were strangers to me.
+
+I was only a child of the harem, however, and in Moslem harems many
+superstitions that would be laughed to scorn in Western households
+are deeply rooted in all minds. And so, assured that there was no man
+about me who could have written these lines, I fell to speculating as
+to whether or not the verses had come to me through some supernatural
+agency.
+
+At breakfast I again inquired of Mrs. Seaver whether any of the
+neighboring valleys was inhabited.
+
+She shook her head gravely.
+
+“No,” she replied. “We are many miles from any other house. Even
+the sportsmen who come to the Adirondacks for deer and bear seldom
+penetrate so far as this. That is one reason why I like it so.”
+
+I resumed my breakfast, and for several minutes the silence that
+followed remained unbroken. Mrs. Seaver was the first to speak.
+
+“Perhaps, my dear, it is better that you should know something else,”
+she said, hesitatingly. “What I have told you is the truth, as I
+understand it. I know of no other habitation than ours, but there are
+times when rumors reach us that some strange persons occasionally
+are to be seen about Deadwood Lake--a body of water that lies in the
+valley immediately north of ours. Who they are we never have been
+able to learn. My men have seen these strangers on several occasions,
+but they never succeeded in getting close enough to them to describe
+them accurately. One undoubtedly is an aged Indian, while the second
+is a white youth, who, if the rumors are to be credited, is strangely
+handsome. These two are always together, but a third--a white man of
+patriarchal appearance, is sometimes observed. It is scarcely likely
+that you will see them, but, if you do, it is just as well, perhaps, to
+avoid them as much as possible.”
+
+My breath came quickly. So far from exciting my fears, this information
+stimulated my curiosity. Who was this mysterious young man whom my
+prosaic hostess had described as “strangely handsome”? If these three
+men were the only persons in our neighborhood who were unknown to me,
+one of them doubtless was the author of the verses I had received.
+Assuredly, the Indian had not written them, nor was it probable that
+the “man of patriarchal appearance” had done so. But the other--ay, it
+might have been this other.
+
+The stream which filled the lake I had come to love so well, entered
+our valley from the north. This fact indicated that the clear waters
+over which my canoe daily glided were the outflow of Deadwood Lake.
+Then, I remembered that one of the menservants had told me that our
+lake was merely one link of a beautiful crystal chain that extended
+well back into the mountains.
+
+When breakfast was done, I left the house and, singing as I went,
+I made my way to where my shining, green canoe was drawn up on the
+pebbled shore. One of the menservants, who was painting a fishing punt,
+smiled and nodded a “good-morning” as I drew near.
+
+“You are going out to-day, Miss?” he asked.
+
+I felt my cheeks flush slightly as I answered:
+
+“Yes, I am going to gather some lilies for my room.”
+
+The man rose, and, as he started toward my canoe to run it down the
+beach, he glanced toward the southwest, and hesitated.
+
+“I wouldn’t go out far or stay too long, Miss,” he said, thoughtfully.
+“The sky looks bad over yonder, and one who is down in the valley
+can’t see a bad blow coming till it’s on us. The weather’s been pretty
+respectful-like since you’ve been here, but there ain’t no other hell
+on earth that’s quite so bad as an Adirondack storm. Does the missis
+know you’re going?”
+
+“No,” I answered, coldly. “Mrs. Seaver has never required me to report
+to her anything which it pleases me to do or not to do.”
+
+The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Well, I meant no harm,” he said, almost curtly. “But when thunder once
+begins to bellow up here, it’s mighty seldom a strong man can drive
+a boat inshore before he gets a soaking, and a soaking is the least
+of it. Small as this lake of ours is, it can kick up waves on shorter
+notice than the Atlantic can.”
+
+Realizing that I had unkindly slighted one whose only fault had been
+over-zealousness in manifesting a regard for my safety, I laughed
+reassuringly and said indulgently:
+
+“You are right, I know, so, though I see no storm clouds, I will not go
+too far from the shore.”
+
+And, as my canoe glided over the shimmering lake to where the lilies
+were, I was resolved to keep my word. But the dancing sunlight lured
+me on and on, and my promise, dying like the song of a bird, went to
+mingle with the lily-scented airs.
+
+The valley in which Mrs. Seaver’s log-house stood was about three miles
+long and two miles wide, and the lake covered three-fourths of its
+bottom. Well out in the lake were five or six tree-covered islets,
+and on one that lay furthest to the south I had discovered a little
+leafy nook to which I sometimes went with one of the volumes from Mrs.
+Seaver’s shelves.
+
+But it was not to the south that I turned this morning. At first I kept
+the head of my little craft toward the center of the lake, then, as my
+glance continued to stray curiously toward the north, I found, at last,
+that, half-unconsciously, I was moving in that direction.
+
+For the first time since my arrival in the Adirondacks, I was dominated
+by a desire to see the stream whose waters filled the clear lake in our
+valley. The sun was still shining brightly, when, suddenly determining
+to give rein to my curiosity, I brought the bow of the canoe directly
+to the northward, and, in response to the determined paddle-strokes,
+the little craft moved swiftly over the gleaming waters.
+
+As I approached an indentation in the northern shore I marveled that
+I never had been inspired with the desire to visit it before. Here
+the lily-pads seemed to form a great green, white and yellow rug, and
+the perfume of the blossoms so filled the air that it was no longer
+possible for me to identify the odor of the pines in the breezes which,
+rushing down the great mountain slopes, seemed to dally in love-rapt
+idleness among the langourous spirits of the flowers.
+
+I had been singing as I left the log-house, and I was singing now, but,
+as I kept glancing to right and left to find places in which to thrust
+my paddle without breaking lily leaves or blossoms, I was singing a
+song that had been sung by no human lips before. It was a song in
+which the words of the verses I had received that morning had adapted
+themselves to an Arabian air that, in the harem of Meschid Pasha, had
+been one of the lullabies sung by my mother to each of her little ones.
+
+Thus singing and moving slowly through the lilies and their wide-spread
+leaves, I suddenly found myself at the very stream I had been seeking.
+At its mouth it was about a hundred feet in width, but, as I looked
+up along the course, I saw that it narrowed perceptibly. Laying my
+dripping paddle across the canoe, I stopped singing and listened.
+
+The very air seemed motionless. Within a distant leafy covert on the
+mountainside at my right a single woodlark was piping its clear, sad
+notes. All else was so still that the very perfume that filled the air
+was eloquent.
+
+For several moments a feeling of fear and awe stole over me, and I
+looked at the sky. There the blue hue had given place to a pinkish
+tint, but the sun still was shining and there was scarcely a ripple on
+the clear, gleaming waters over which I had passed.
+
+Should I go back, and return some other day to explore this unknown
+watercourse? Surely, I could find no fairer day than this. I would do
+it now.
+
+Owing to the fact that the beauties of the lake and dingles so often
+caused me to give no thought to the flight of the hours, it often had
+happened that the hour for luncheon found me far from the hospitable
+table in the log-house. Thus it had come to pass that, whenever I left
+the house in the morning for a stroll or a canoe trip, I took with me,
+in a little net-work bag, sandwiches, cake and fruit. Fortunately I had
+done so to-day.
+
+Glancing at my watch, I now saw that it was only a few minutes after
+ten, then, with a sigh of pleasurable anticipation, I again picked up
+my paddle and, more reckless concerning the fate of leaves and blossoms
+than I had been before, I forced the canoe into the sluggish current
+of the mysterious stream.
+
+As I proceeded, my progress became less and less impeded by sprawling
+lily-pads. I was now at the feet of two lofty mountains at the bases of
+which the stream pursued a winding course.
+
+At length, with a little sigh of excitement and pleasure, I saw that
+the splendors of a second valley were being unfolded to my view.
+
+But, ah, how different was this valley from the one I had just left
+behind me. The ruggedness of its lofty, bare granite precipices filled
+me with a half-defined sense of alarm. Over the bosom of this shining
+stream I seemed to have passed from one of Nature’s pleasure gardens to
+the vast portal of one of her towering, deserted and crumbling abbeys.
+A chillness seemed to enter the air. The arms of the giant pine trees
+appeared to be gently beckoning and nodding to the unseen spirits of
+the valley.
+
+But, though the valley’s lofty walls thus were revealed to my eyes,
+of the mysterious lake I saw nothing. Ahead of me was a great expanse
+of tall rushes through which the stream had cut its way. Around
+me, however, the waters seemed to have lost their lustre. Like the
+mountains whose images they reflected they appeared to be dark, sullen
+and forbidding.
+
+The speed of my canoe was gradually abating for, half-overcome by
+distrust, I was paddling mechanically.
+
+Darker and darker grew the waters, then a greater chillness smote me. I
+was about to raise my eyes toward the sky when I beheld something that
+riveted my attention.
+
+Before me lay the waters of Deadwood Lake and, as I looked, I shrank
+back in affright. Trunks and roots of fallen trees that had been wrung
+from the mountainsides by tempests or great avalanches were rotting on
+the narrow, gray pebbled shores. The waters were of a brownish black,
+and the hundreds of white-trunked birches that they reflected near
+their margin gave to them a weird, ghostly effect.
+
+I was not yet clear of the masses of high rushes that grew out of the
+water, and the channel between them was so narrow that I could touch
+each green wall with my paddle. Deciding to return at once to the other
+valley, I was about to reverse my position in the canoe, when I beheld
+something so startling that I almost dropped my paddle, and for several
+seconds I seemed to lose the power to breathe.
+
+What I saw was a canoe, fashioned out of the bark of birch trees, and,
+as I looked, it moved slowly across the thin screen of rushes that
+separated me from the clear surface of the lake. In this canoe were two
+human figures, but the appearance of each was so extraordinary that I
+suspected that they were indeed more than men.
+
+The face of the figure that sat in the stern of the canoe was of a
+brownish-red color and, despite its wrinkled forehead and cheeks,
+there was something sphinx-like in its expression. The eyes seemed to
+be looking fixedly into a storied future that they might live to see
+embodied in the storied past. But the figure in the bow--ah how shall I
+describe what then appeared to me to be the head and body of a god?
+
+Though I have heard enthusiastic women describe certain men as
+“beautiful,” I never believed until that moment that such an adjective
+could be used appropriately to describe a man’s appearance. But here
+was a man, scarcely older than I, whose head and shoulders would have
+put to shame those of the far-famed Apollo Belvidere. His slightly
+curling black hair had the gloss which shines on the plumage of birds,
+and though his skin was bronzed by exposure to the weather, it had the
+rich, transparent coloring of youth. Never had I thought it possible
+that a human brow, nose or chin could be so exquisitely formed and, at
+the same time, be so expressive of intellectual and physical vigor. But
+it was the expression of spiritual virility and omniscience that gave
+to the classic features a suggestion of divine perfection.
+
+“Is it god or man?” I whispered, and at that moment I seemed to have my
+answer from the skies.
+
+In the distance I heard a faint, rumbling sound, then, suddenly, a
+terrific crash of thunder directly above my head filled me with the
+most indescribable sensation of awe and fear. The mountains seemed to
+shiver with the sound and, glancing above me, I saw great towering
+clouds, like enormous, gray-wreathed icebergs drifting swiftly toward
+the north. Among these advancing monsters lightning was glowing
+sullenly, at first one point and then another, then there came a flash
+that almost blinded me, and as, with a low despairing cry, I hid my
+face in my hands, a second peal of thunder rocked the dreadful valley.
+
+Turning again toward where, only a few moments before, I had seen the
+birchbark canoe, I saw it had disappeared. But through the screen of
+reeds I beheld a sight that was scarcely less terrifying than the
+lightning and the thunder.
+
+The waters of Deadwood lake had assumed an inky blackness, and were
+covered with great strings of froth that looked as if they had dropped
+from the mouth of a gigantic rabid hound. From over the mountain tops
+came a dull, quivering, humming sound that I knew was the voice of the
+advancing storm.
+
+Half choking with fear, I reversed my position in the canoe, then,
+seizing the paddle, I started back toward the lake from which, in an
+ill-omened hour, I, a helpless woman, had been tempted by curiosity.
+
+As my paddle-strokes fell quickly and nervously to right and left, I
+prayed--to God, to Christ, to Allah, and to Mohammed, the Prophet of
+Allah. Then, with closed eyes and bowed head, I, paddling blindly,
+became once more a mere child of the harem, for I prayed to the two
+genii I had seen in the birchbark canoe.
+
+As a child had I not learned that the appearances of genii often were
+accompanied by peals of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning? Did
+not one of the stories of the Thousand and One Nights tell how the
+Sultan of the Genii assumed the form of a handsome young man when he
+appeared to Zeyn Alasnam, the young Sultan of Bussorah? And were not
+those appearances invariably attended by such displays as I had seen
+just now, while, terror-stricken, I sat in my canoe among the reeds of
+Deadwood Lake?
+
+Then, in a wild burst of self-reproach, I told myself that I was to
+blame for the very storm itself--that, by trespassing on these waters
+frequented by the genii, and stealing a view of two of them, I had
+invoked the wrath of Heaven.
+
+No drop of rain yet had fallen, but the wind was growing stronger every
+moment. Around me the high reeds began to lower their heads as if they,
+too, were inspired by the fears which were overwhelming me. Like men
+struggling in the grip of engulfing quicksands, the reeds, tugging at
+their roots, seemed to be making desperate efforts to get to the shore,
+and, as they swayed and bent low, the little channel through which I
+had passed was completely hidden from my view.
+
+Half sobbing with fright, and bitterly repenting the folly that had led
+me there, I succeeded in getting the bow of the canoe turned toward the
+shore on my right--a low, narrow strip of beach and shingle that lay at
+the foot of a lofty precipice. This strip I saw over the now low-lying
+reeds. It was only thirty feet away, but the craven reeds, huddling
+closer together as they sank lower and lower to the surface of the
+water, threatened to hold my canoe like a fish in a net.
+
+At length, however, my desperate efforts were rewarded. I felt the bow
+of the canoe grate on the stones of the beach. Rising from my seat, I
+reeled forward and, laughing hysterically, I leaped ashore just as a
+dazzling flash of lightning illumined the valley, which was almost as
+dark as the last five minutes of twilight. I was raising my trembling
+hands to my eyes to shut out the glare when a nerve-racking clap of
+thunder drove me almost to the verge of madness.
+
+Half blinded by the lightning and deafened by the thunder, I plunged
+into a cluster of young pines, hoping to find shelter there from the
+rain which I now knew to be imminent. The lightning was beginning to
+crackle and hiss in a manner which showed it was dangerously near,
+when, having suddenly found myself at the inner edge of the cluster of
+evergreens, I stood at the very base of the precipitous mountain wall.
+Then, as I looked, I saw something that steadied me, and, despite my
+agitation, filled me with wonder.
+
+Set in the very face of the cliff was the wall of a log-house--about
+twenty feet wide and twelve feet high. In this wall were two
+glass-paned windows and a door.
+
+Running quickly to the door, I knocked. As I waited for an answer,
+something smote one of my hands. I perceived it was a large drop of
+water, then other drops began to fall around me, and there came
+another gleaming lightning flash.
+
+The crashing, rolling thunder made it seem impossible that any one who
+might have been in the shelter of the log wall should hear my continued
+knocking, so, without further hesitation, I laid a hand on the knob of
+the door. The knob turned, and, with a cry in which terror and relief
+were blended, I ran inside.
+
+The light that entered the dust-covered panes was so feeble that it
+was only when the lightning was playing that I was able to see the
+whole interior of the apartment I had entered so unceremoniously. This
+I perceived to be nothing more nor less than a small natural cave to
+which the hand of man had given a front of logs. Broad at its mouth,
+the cave tapered back like the end of a canoe, the roof and side walls
+coming to a point a few feet above the bare ground in the rear. At
+this point a curious bunk had been roughly hewn out of the massive
+gray granite and on this bunk lay a soiled mattress and a dilapidated
+oil-skin coat. Near one of the windows stood a table, the under part
+of which was rounded and still holding some of the bark of the tree
+from which it had been taken. Near the table stood two old chairs and
+a campstool. Against one of the walls leaned an easel which supported
+a canvas on which an artist had begun to paint a view of Deadwood Lake
+from almost the very point from which I first had seen it.
+
+The cave was about twenty-five feet in length, and its rough aspect,
+as revealed by lightning flashes, was not altogether of a nature to
+reassure me. Still, it afforded shelter from the torrential rainpour
+that was now thundering down in the valley.
+
+Convinced that I was alone in the cave, I wiped away some of the dust
+that darkened one of the window panes. As I looked out I saw what
+appeared to be a vast wall of water under the weight of which the very
+earth seemed to tremble.
+
+And now the crashes of thunder became less violent, the lightning
+flashes less keen, and, despite the enormous volume of falling water,
+the atmosphere assumed a brighter hue.
+
+At length the rainfall began to abate. I could distinguish the outlines
+of the pines through which I had fled to this place of refuge. I
+scraped from other panes some of the grime with which they were
+encrusted, and once more surveyed the apartment.
+
+It now became apparent that this cave once had afforded shelter to a
+painter. Besides the easel and the campstool, I saw several maulsticks,
+palettes, paint tubes and torn canvases lying around the place.
+
+As I have said, the canvas on the easel revealed a view of Deadwood
+Valley. The picture was scarcely more than one-fifth done, but the
+instruction that I had received in drawing and painting was sufficient
+to enable me to recognize the work of a master. Satisfied of this,
+and thinking to find another example of his work, I turned to a piece
+of canvas that lay on the ground. Like everything else in the place,
+it was covered with grime, but, as I turned it over, a little cry
+of astonishment escaped me. The partly obliterated face which was
+painted upon it was that of the white man, or genie, I had seen in the
+birchbark canoe!
+
+I had scarcely more than recognized the features, however, when an
+object moving on the floor about two paces from where I stood caused
+me to shrink back in affright. It was a dusty brown thing, and looked
+at first like a piece of stout rope. But no rope moves of its own
+volition, and one end of this strange object slowly rose, then, with
+a sudden jerk, the thing assumed the form of a coil. A triangular head
+moved back, and two beadlike eyes regarded me fixedly, while a broad,
+dark thread darted in and out of a closed, hideous mouth.
+
+I was confronted by a serpent--a serpent which, by the description I
+had heard of it, I knew to be a copperhead!
+
+For several moments horror held me spellbound, then a feeling of
+creepiness stole up my back and settled among the roots of my hair.
+Breathing heavily, I retreated slowly, rapidly gathering courage as I
+saw that the reptile made no move to follow me.
+
+Glancing quickly around me, my gaze fell on an iron frying-pan that
+stood on a wooden stool. Taking hold of the long handle of this,
+I moved slowly forward toward the dark coil which, except for the
+nervously darting tongue, still was motionless. When I was three or
+four paces away from this, I hurled the pan at it and darted backward.
+
+The pan fell upon the coil, and a moment later the reptile, with its
+tail beating the air, lay writhing on the floor. All fear left me
+now, and, seizing the stool from which I had taken the pan, I ran
+forward and hammered the triangular head until it lay flattened at my
+feet. Then, panting as a result of my exertions, I looked around me
+apprehensively. Might there not be other serpents lurking here?
+
+And now a rich, mellow light began to filter into the gloomy
+rock chamber, through the dusty window panes. Hurrying to the door, I
+flung it open. The terrible storm, as if by enchantment, had changed
+into a gleaming sunshower, and the air was charged with the fragrant
+odors of the moistened wilderness. Then, once more, my superstitious
+fancies took possession of me. The death of the serpent had changed
+all, and once more I stood at one of the portals of Eden.
+
+The shower, too, soon passed, and as, leaving the gloomy cave
+behind me, I stepped out into the warm sunshine a great feeling of
+thankfulness entered my heart. Looking at the watch that was fastened
+to my waist, I saw that it was half past twelve.
+
+But, as I glanced toward the reeds from which I had so narrowly
+escaped, a new fear fell upon me. Their mattered masses were now
+almost covered by the swollen flood which the mountain streams were
+momentarily reenforcing. Somewhere in that vast tangle of muddy green
+sticks and leaves was my canoe. How was I to make my way afoot over the
+soggy ground and flooded banks to Mrs. Seaver’s log-house?
+
+I saw that for a woman to make such a journey without boat or guide
+was impossible. But, after all, my position was not altogether so
+unfortunate as it seemed at first. There was little doubt in my mind
+that, as soon as the lake grew more calm, Mrs. Seaver would send her
+manservants to seek me. Her log-house commanded a full view of the
+lake, and it was quite unlikely that the movement of my canoe toward
+the north shore had been unobserved. The men would look for me here.
+
+Finding consolation in these reflections, I now decided to walk as far
+as possible in the direction of the lake in the lower valley, hoping
+that I might succeed in getting to some point from which I might be
+able to signal to those who came to seek me.
+
+But, alas, I soon found that at a short distance below the cave the
+swollen waters had risen to the very base of the precipice. I returned,
+therefore, to the shelter afforded by the pines, for, despite the fall
+of the temperature that had accompanied the terrible storm, the sun
+now was blazing fiercely.
+
+Hour after hour I waited in the shadow of the pines, but no human
+voice came to my ears. Then I began to fancy that, owing to the matted
+condition of the reeds, the passage of a boat up the stream that
+connected the two lakes would be impracticable.
+
+At length twilight fell, and, while I watched and prayed, its shadows
+deepened into night, and the sky was flecked with the stars; then, over
+one of the dark mountains, the full moon flooded the valley with its
+light.
+
+A new thought came to me. Several times during the afternoon I found
+myself repeating, or singing to the air of that old Moslem lullaby,
+the words of the verses I had found pinned to my window curtain in the
+morning. In one of these verses the writer had written:
+
+    “And while from out the shade
+      Of Earth are stealing
+    Thy thoughts that dreamward go,
+    I, keeping, vigil, know
+      Love’s bells are pealing.”
+
+Were these words no more than the mere expression of a poet’s fancy, or
+did they reveal a truth? If the writer had kept vigil near the windows
+of my room in which I lay unthreatened by danger, was it not possible
+that he might be near me now in this hour of my distress? Whether he
+might be man or genie, I would put his fidelity to the proof.
+
+Then, rising from my seat among the pines, I walked down to the margin
+of the swollen stream, and, after murmuring a prayer that, lurking
+somewhere in this mighty, moonlighted wilderness, my unknown lover
+would hear my voice and come to me, I sang his words to the sweet music
+of the old Turkish lullaby.
+
+Never before had I been afforded an opportunity to test the full power
+of my voice, and, as I heard it rising among the lofty crags, I half
+forgot the object of my effort. A spirit of exaltation seemed to seize
+my very soul and lift it up so far above the mountain heights that I
+felt as if I was singing where only angel-voices had been heard before.
+
+At length I came to the close of the last verse:
+
+    “Now that this vigil’s done,
+      And thou art beaming,
+    Fond Hope doth close his eyes,
+    But, as in sleep he lies,
+      Of thee he’s dreaming.”
+
+As the last note left my lips, I stood and listened. Then I started.
+
+Was it an echo that had repeated “dreaming,” or was it a human voice
+which, far, far among the dark shadows of the great wilderness, had
+called “Pauline”?
+
+While, trembling with anxious expectancy, I continued listening,
+hoping that I might hear the sound again, my gaze wandered nervously
+to my left whence had come a sound like the snapping of a dry stick.
+Then my heart seemed to leap to my throat, and, gasping with fear and
+astonishment, I beheld him whose presence I had evoked--the white man
+I had seen in the canoe--the genie to whom, when under the influence
+of childish superstitions, some of my incoherent prayers had been
+addressed.
+
+Half in the shadow of one of the pines, the strange, beautiful face
+of the young man was turned to mine, but on that face there was an
+expression of wonder that I could not understand.
+
+Twice or thrice I tried to speak, but the words would not leave my
+lips. Why did this stranger remain standing thus, regarding me with
+such a steady, searching and unfathomable gaze? Did he not see the
+plight to which the storm had brought me? Why did he wait for me to
+speak?
+
+At length the stranger advanced slowly toward me. His lips moved,
+but before the words they framed were spoken, the old Indian darted
+suddenly from a shadow and seized him by the arm. The white man turned
+impatiently.
+
+“Your hand is on me, Glenagassett,” he said.
+
+Though he spoke quietly, there was an unmistakable note of imperious
+rebuke in the clear, musical voice, and the hand of the Indian fell.
+
+“Is this a woman?” the young man asked, turning to the Indian, who,
+standing beside him, was bending on me a gaze that seemed to flash
+anger and defiance.
+
+“Yes,” replied the Indian, gravely.
+
+The white man turned again to me.
+
+“What brought you here?” he asked, almost roughly.
+
+“I came this morning in my canoe, but, in the storm, it was lost
+somewhere in that mass of reeds.”
+
+“Why do you not get it out?” he demanded, shortly. “Go--get it now.”
+
+I looked at him in wonder. Was I talking with a madman?
+
+As I hesitated, he shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Ah, yes, I remember now,” he said. “You women are too weak to do such
+things. Glenagassett, bring out the canoe.”
+
+The Indian hesitated, then, with stooping shoulders, he turned and
+moved quickly to the waterside.
+
+The white man, reaching out one of his hands, firmly grasped my arm and
+turned me so that the moonlight shone upon my face.
+
+“And so you are one of those creatures which men kiss and love, and for
+which they sell their foolish souls,” he said. “I have read about you,
+but I never saw you. You talk with the voice of man, but your brain is
+that of the devil. I have never been told, however, that women sing
+like the angels. And so I see Nathan has again deceived me.”
+
+Suddenly realizing that I was in the clutches of a victim of insanity,
+I began trembling violently.
+
+“You will sing again?” he asked.
+
+“Not now,” I faltered.
+
+“But I bid you,” he said, sharply.
+
+“I cannot sing,” I answered.
+
+“Even now I watched and heard you,” he retorted angrily. “In this
+valley I am lord. I am Rayon Demain. You will sing.”
+
+I saw that I must humor him, and, nodding humbly, I drew back. He
+watched me curiously as, raising my head, I sang, as earnestly as I had
+sung the other air, Arthur Sullivan’s beautiful “Lost Chord.”
+
+Not once while I was singing did I look upon the man who had so excited
+my fears. When the song was done, however, I turned to him.
+
+He was standing as if he had been turned to stone, and the look of
+wonder on his face was deeper. For several moments he was silent, then,
+passing a hand across his eyes, he murmured:
+
+“If all devils are like you, it is small wonder that men confuse them
+with the angels and give their souls into their keeping.”
+
+A sound from the waterside caused me to glance quickly in that
+direction. Something was moving in the reeds, and, as I looked, I
+fancied I saw an enormous bird swimming to the shore. One end rose,
+like a great head and neck, and then I saw that the Indian, having
+waded out among the reeds, had found my canoe and was bringing it to
+the bank.
+
+My heart leaped within me, for I felt that the hour of my deliverance
+was at hand.
+
+“You will send me home--to the log-house in the valley below?” I asked
+eagerly, turning to the man who called himself Rayon Demain.
+
+He, looking at me earnestly, was about to reply when the tall figure of
+a man, with flowing white hair and beard, strode quickly from the shade
+of the evergreens.
+
+“Rayon!” exclaimed the newcomer, sharply.
+
+The young man turned quickly to the speaker.
+
+“You have lied to me again,” he said, angrily. “The valley in which you
+have kept me is so narrow and high walled that Truth, like the sun,
+finds me only at noonday. I will go to where it rises and it sets, and
+will see and know all that lies between. In the books that you have
+given to me are songs that poets have sung to love, but I have known
+no love and, therefore, know not how to sing. And yet--to-night--I’ve
+heard----”
+
+He stopped, and once more I saw him pass a hand over his eyes in that
+same bewildered manner I had observed before. Then, with his gaze
+resting on the ground, he went on, half-abstractedly:
+
+“To-night I heard a voice that seemed, at first, to come to me from
+Heaven, but, as I listened, I knew that it was rising from the earth,
+and, following the sound, I came here thinking to find an angel
+singing. But the song was a song of love, and Glenagassett told me that
+the singer, so far from being an angel, was only one of those creatures
+which, as you have taught me, are two-thirds devil and one-third man,
+without a single attribute of divinity. And now I know that the harp
+of life which you have suffered me to play all these years is nothing
+more than a mere child’s toy, after all--that from it many chords are
+missing, and that the chord it most sadly lacks is that lost one of
+which this strange creature sang to-night--the chord of earthly love.”
+
+“Come!” commanded the graybeard in a hoarse, broken voice. “You
+have much to learn, and of this knowledge that which has to do
+with devil-snares is not the least. Come, like Adam in the garden,
+you have been subjected to the greatest temptation that can befall
+mankind--fruit of the forbidden tree that is offered to you by one
+of the daughters of that Eve whose angel beauty and diabolical mind
+brought shame and sorrow to thousands of generations of men.”
+
+Trembling with shame and horror as the graybeard, pointing one of his
+long fingers at me, branded me as one of the most despicable of God’s
+creatures, I shrank from the strange, searching gaze that young Rayon
+fixed on me while his mentor spoke.
+
+My falling gaze decided all. In it the young man seemed to read a
+confession of my unworthiness. When I raised my eyes again, Rayon and
+the graybeard were gone, but in the place where they had been standing
+I saw the Indian, Glenagassett, who held my canoe paddle toward me.
+
+“Go,” the red man said, and, as he spoke, he pointed imperiously toward
+where the bow of my canoe was drawn up on the shore.
+
+With trembling fingers, I grasped the paddle the Indian was holding out
+to me. The redskin, turning from me abruptly, strode quickly toward the
+cluster of evergreens and disappeared from my view.
+
+From the great wilderness around me there came no sound. Deserted by
+him to whom my song had been addressed, I stood alone in the shadow of
+the great, dark precipice.
+
+The story of the fall of man constitutes part of the Mohammedan story
+of the creation of the world, and I have often thought that in the
+Koran it is more beautifully told than in the Bible, but this was the
+first time in my life that I had been brought to know that living men
+believed that women of their own period were cursed with the frailities
+of the Eve from whom they are descended. Then it seemed to me that the
+moonlight lost its splendor, and each star became a stern, accusing
+eye, while the nightwinds, sighing softly in the pines, seemed to be
+pitying me because, in my ignorance, I had not known that when men come
+alone to this great wilderness they find earthly Edens, but when woman
+enters them their glories begin to fade. Then the forest trees are hewn
+into boards for summer hotels and bungalows, and the sounds of raucous
+dance-music and the inane songs of music halls still forever the great
+hymns which Nature is ever singing in her summer solitudes. The lake
+yields its lilies to women’s idle whims, and the lily plants, sooner or
+later, die like bereaved mothers. The gay-plumed singers of the forest
+no more voice the carols of the Spring, for the daughters of Eve, not
+content with their own charms, must enhance them with hats on which
+the feathered choristers are crucified like Him whose death agonies
+inspire with sorrow those wearers of stolen plumage when they assemble
+in Christian churches on Easter morning.
+
+And so, beautiful as I might be, I was only a woman, after all--a
+prettily-tinted reptile that was an enemy to the flowers and birds--or
+a flame at which things that loved light and life would find
+destruction!
+
+With a little sigh I had just started to walk down to my canoe when,
+once more, a sound coming from the evergreens attracted my attention.
+
+It was the sound of a tenor voice that was softly singing the verses
+I had found in my window, and the air was that to which I had put
+them--the air of the old Turkish lullaby.
+
+I started, and, fearing to meet again this strange, young man whom the
+graybeard had induced to leave me, I took a couple of steps in the
+direction of my canoe.
+
+“Paula!”
+
+The word was so softly spoken that I half believed I had been deluded
+by my fancy.
+
+“Paula!”
+
+I turned again to the evergreens, but no human figure met my view.
+
+“Well?” I asked, abruptly.
+
+“Go to the canoe and take the forward seat, leaving the paddle behind
+you,” said the voice. “If you do not look behind you, you will be home
+in an hour. If, however, you turn to see your boatman, evil will result
+to you and him. Will you promise?”
+
+I hesitated.
+
+“Yes,” I said.
+
+That I was in an enchanted valley I did not now pretend to doubt.
+The magnificence of this stupendous wilderness, the flashing of that
+terrible lightning, the awe-inspiring thunderpeals, the rush of those
+mighty winds, the sullen rumble of the falling flood, my encounter
+with the serpent and my extraordinary adventure with the three men
+united to put to flight all the materialistic impressions that European
+civilization had made upon my mind during the few weeks I had been
+under its influence. Once more I was a child of the Orient, as the
+heroines of the Thousand and One Nights had been. I, Princess Pauline
+Maranotti, was being confronted by a situation that was no more
+wonderful than those which confronted other princesses--Badoura, the
+Princess of China, who became the wife of Camaralzaman; Perie-Zadeh,
+Princess of Persia, whose brothers were transformed into black stones;
+and Nouronnihar, Princess of India, whose beauty had caused her three
+royal cousins to have extraordinary adventures.
+
+Thus resigning myself to the superstitions of the people among whom
+nearly all my life had been spent, I believed that it was the voice of
+a genie that had come to me from among the evergreens, and that it was
+the genie that was to be my boatman on my journey home. But so great
+was the confidence with which the kindly voice had inspired me that
+I no longer feared to do its bidding, and, as I walked down to the
+waiting canoe, I resolved to guard against any incautious movement that
+would cause me to see the forbidden face.
+
+I entered the canoe resolutely, and, in obedience to the instructions I
+had received, I sat down on the forward seat.
+
+I had not long to wait. The crunching of the gravel and the snapping of
+dead reed-sticks soon apprised me of the mysterious boatman’s approach.
+A few moments later the canoe began to move forward, then it tilted
+violently from side to side as the boatman entered it.
+
+As the little craft moved on I saw that a way had been cleared for it
+to the channel of the stream. A more materialistic mind would have
+suspected that this had been done by the Indian who had brought it to
+the shore, but, versed in Eastern lore, I knew that the magic of my
+genie boatman was accomplishing all that.
+
+Having arrived at last at the channel, the bow of the canoe was quickly
+swung around and, with a speed which, in other circumstances, I would
+have thought incredible, the little craft, gliding over the swollen
+current, moved in the direction of the lower lake.
+
+My trip up this stream had occupied nearly twenty-five minutes, for I
+had been paddling leisurely against a sluggish current, but now less
+than ten minutes sufficed to bring me to its mouth and the bright,
+moonlit waters of the lake below.
+
+Thus far the only sounds that gave evidence of the presence of my
+boatman were the strong, even strokes of his double-bladed paddle.
+
+A faint “hello” now sounded from the north-eastern shore of the lake. I
+was about to glance over my shoulder when my boatman said abruptly:
+
+“Have a care! Remember the warning!”
+
+A cold chill passed over me, as I replied, contritely:
+
+“Someone is calling. Perhaps Mrs. Seaver’s servants are seeking me.”
+
+“They have sought you all the afternoon, but the lake has been very
+rough, and one of their boats was capsized.”
+
+In my anxiety I half turned again.
+
+“But those in it got ashore?” I asked.
+
+“Oh, yes.”
+
+“Will you let those who are seeking me know that I am safe?” I asked.
+
+The unseen boatman hesitated.
+
+“No,” he answered, quietly, “It is too soon to tell them now.”
+
+For several moments we were silent.
+
+“Why did you go to Deadwood Lake?” my boatman asked.
+
+My cheeks began to burn, but something in me told me it was best to
+tell the truth.
+
+“I thought I might see the man who was described as so ‘strangely
+handsome’,” I replied. “If I had known that there were genii there, I
+would not have gone, of course.”
+
+“If who were there?” asked the boatman.
+
+“Genii.”
+
+There was a pause.
+
+“Ah, you believe in the genii, then?” he said, in a lower voice.
+
+“Having seen them, can I believe anything else?” I murmured.
+
+“You are from the East--the Orient?”
+
+“From Constantinople,” I answered, wonderingly. “Do you not know?”
+
+“I know a little, but you must tell me more.”
+
+From across the widening waters came the voices of men who called my
+name. To these my boatman gave no heed.
+
+“Tell me why you left Constantinople--why you are here,” he persisted.
+
+Then, as briefly as I could, I told him all.
+
+I told him why I had fled from Meschid to Prince Maranotti and how I
+was brought to America and represented as being Trevison’s daughter.
+I told him how I had received the verses in the morning and how I had
+suspected that the young white man in the neighboring valley was their
+author.
+
+When I was done, another silence fell. Then the boatman spoke.
+
+“You will find other verses--verses and letters at your window,” he
+said, quietly. “You may trust the writer, but do not trust others, for
+I fear that great danger soon will threaten you. You did wrong to go
+to the upper lake to-day, but it is fortunate that you sang, for the
+first song of yours brought me to your side. But you must go there no
+more.”
+
+“You do not speak now as you did when I first met you,” I said,
+reprovingly. “You spoke then as if you had been taught to hate all
+women.”
+
+There was a long pause before he answered me.
+
+“Unlike the others whom you saw, I am not a genie,” he replied. “I am
+a man who is held under enchantment. When this is broken I may take my
+place with other men. Until then----”
+
+“Until then?” I murmured.
+
+“Until then I must continue to suffer.”
+
+“And how may this enchantment be broken?” I asked.
+
+“By marriage.”
+
+“By marriage!” I exclaimed, wonderingly. “With whom?”
+
+“With you,” he murmured, softly.
+
+I started, and once more I was about to turn my head when the strange
+companion cautioned me.
+
+“You must not see me,” he said.
+
+Again the cries of the men who had been seeking me came to me from
+across the water. The voices were more distinct now, and the fact that
+my friends were drawing nearer assured me that they had seen me.
+
+“With you,” my boatman repeated, softly. “Do you pity me?”
+
+“Yes--yes,” I answered. “How could I fail to pity you?”
+
+I was trembling violently, and even the fresh night airs were stifling
+me.
+
+I now observed that, though the canoe was headed for the shore, the bow
+was turned toward a point that was several hundred yards distant from
+the log-house.
+
+“You are not taking me home,” I murmured.
+
+“Those who follow us will do that,” my boatman said. “They must not
+see me, nor must you tell your friends that those you saw to-day were
+genii. You may tell them, however, that an Indian, finding you beside
+Deadwood Lake, just after the storm, brought you here. You will do
+this?”
+
+“Yes,” I faltered.
+
+There was a long pause. He was using the paddle more vigorously now,
+and the shouts that came to our ears from the pursuing boat were louder
+and more earnest.
+
+The canoe was rapidly approaching the shore, and in front of the
+log-house I saw the dancing of lanterns. I knew my anxious hostess was
+preparing to set out to meet the returning boat and was wondering why
+the canoe in which I sat was not approaching the regular landing place.
+
+“You will not give me your answer now?” my boatman asked.
+
+With a little shrug of the shoulder, I said faintly:
+
+“There is only one to give. If what you say is true--if it is only I
+who can make you free, I must become your wife.”
+
+The strokes of the paddles ceased abruptly, and a great silence fell
+around us.
+
+“You will meet me three nights hence, at midnight, at the place at
+which we are about to land?” he asked in a low, eager, trembling voice.
+
+“I am to marry you then?” I murmured.
+
+“Yes,” he answered. “But it will ruin both of us if, while the ceremony
+is being performed, or afterward on that night, you raise your eyes to
+my face. You will be there?”
+
+“Yes, I will be there,” I said.
+
+A voice from the boat that followed cried:
+
+“Miss Trevison.”
+
+“You may answer,” said my boatman, “but do not turn your head.”
+
+“I am here!” I cried.
+
+A few vigorous strokes of the paddle brought my canoe to the shore.
+
+“Remain seated,” said the boatman. “Do not look after me as I go. Three
+nights hence, at midnight, I will be here, and, except ourselves and
+the priest I will bring with me, no other person must know.”
+
+The side of the canoe was against the bank of a little cove. The boat
+rocked from side to side as the boatman left it.
+
+“Good-night, Paula,” he said.
+
+“Good-night, Rayon Demain,” I murmured, with a sigh.
+
+And, as I heard the twigs snapping as he strode quickly into the
+forest, I suddenly reflected that his name consisted of two French
+words which, together, signified “a beam of to-morrow.”
+
+“Miss Trevison!”
+
+Looking in the direction from whence this cry had come, I beheld a
+boat, propelled by two pairs of oars, moving quickly toward me. The
+rowers were the two menservants from the log-house.
+
+“I am here,” I called back to them.
+
+In a few moments the bow of the boat was against the bank.
+
+“Who was that man that brought you here?” one of the men asked, shortly.
+
+“An Indian,” I replied.
+
+“You have been to Deadwood Lake?”
+
+“Yes,” I answered, coldly. “I was just entering it when the storm
+overtook me.”
+
+The moonlight enabled me to see a strange look settle on the face of
+the man who had questioned me.
+
+“I told you, Jim, no good would come of it,” the other muttered,
+surlily.
+
+“All right, George; it’s no business of ours--now we’ve found her,” Jim
+said, quietly, then addressing me, he added: “Better get in here with
+us, Miss. We can tow the canoe better if it is light.”
+
+I got into the boat, and ten minutes later Mrs. Seaver had me in her
+arms on the beach in front of the log-house.
+
+The story I told was simple. I explained that when the storm broke
+I had landed on the southern shore of Deadwood Lake, and, after
+nightfall, believing that the servants would come to seek me, I had
+been singing in order that my voice would guide them to me. Then
+an Indian had appeared, and I accepted his offer to take me to the
+log-house.
+
+“Why did you go there?” asked my hostess, looking at me curiously.
+
+“Because the north end of our lake was the only part of it I had not
+visited,” I replied. “I saw the stream that entered it, and, through
+it, I paddled up to Deadwood Lake.”
+
+“You must not go again,” Mrs. Seaver said, thoughtfully. “You will
+promise me you will not go?”
+
+“Why, yes, I’ll promise you that,” I answered, laughingly.
+
+A warm dinner was soon set before me, but I had little appetite for
+it. In my mind were ringing those fateful words which had been softly
+uttered by the unseen boatman: “Three nights hence, at midnight, I will
+meet you here.”
+
+An hour later, when the lamp in my room was extinguished, the
+moonlight, streaming through the open window, found me with closed
+lids, but my dreams were of the strange, god-like man whose name
+signified “a beam of to-morrow.”
+
+When I woke the sun was shining on the valley and a robin was singing
+under my window. My heart was beating rapidly as, half-rising, I leaned
+on my elbow and glanced toward the window curtain on which I had found
+the verses pinned the morning before.
+
+A few moments later my feet were on the floor, and, with trembling
+steps, I approached the curtain on which I saw another envelope.
+The first had been marked: “For Paula.” On this was inscribed the
+name:--“Pauline.”
+
+Drawing out a sheet of notepaper, I read:--
+
+              THY GONDOLIER
+
+    Glide thou o’er moonlit waters where
+      The lilies wake to see thee pass,
+    And swing their censers to the air
+      As acolytes at Beauty’s mass;
+    Or move thee on the tide of dreams
+      In stately barge; or, if in fear,
+    Thou art on storm-swept lakes or streams,
+      Let me be e’er thy gondolier.
+
+    While Spring doth shine from out thine eyes,
+      While brightly beams thy Summer’s sun
+    And loving friends around thee rise,
+      I’ll deem my lifelong task begun.
+    Then, when exposed to Autumn’s breath,
+      Other loves and faiths grow sere--
+    Ay, when chill Winter comes, with Death,
+      They’ll find me still thy gondolier.
+
+Twenty-four hours ago the author of the verses I then received was
+unknown to me, but now the mystery had been solved. The hand that had
+written the verses yesterday was the same that had penned those of
+to-day. It was the hand of the mysterious boatman who had guided my
+canoe over the lake less than ten hours ago--the man whose wife I would
+be before the week was ended.
+
+But the next morning and the next I looked in vain for the expected
+envelope. My heart grew heavy with fear as I wondered what had
+prevented the writer’s coming. Had there been a tightening of the bonds
+that bound him to that dreadful valley? Would he be unable to keep the
+appointment he had made with me?
+
+At length the fateful night arrived. I went to my room at nine o’clock,
+for this was the time my hostess and her servants were in the habit of
+retiring. For more than an hour I tried to read, but, naturally enough,
+I was unable to concentrate my thoughts on a book on the eve of such an
+important event in my life. Time and again I asked myself what would be
+the result of this unreasonable act I was about to do, but not once did
+my courage fail me.
+
+It was half past eleven o’clock when, after extinguishing the light
+that had been dimly burning, I lowered myself from my window to the
+ground.
+
+Then for several moments I hesitated. The night was darker than I had
+expected to find it. Large clouds, moving from the northwest, totally
+obscured the moon from time to time, and the night breezes were
+freshening.
+
+Not knowing what fate awaited me, or whether I would be able to return
+to the log-house, I thrust into one of my pockets a purse containing
+all the money I had brought with me to the mountains.
+
+After stealing away from the house as quietly as possible, I found the
+path that led along the shore of the lake to the place at which I had
+agreed to meet my boatman. How much time it took to cover the distance
+I do not know, but on arriving at my destination I was not kept long
+in suspense for, from the shadow of a group of low trees, there came a
+voice.
+
+“Pauline,” it said softly.
+
+The voice was one that I could not have mistaken anywhere.
+
+“I am here,” I answered, firmly.
+
+“Do you remember?” asked the voice, and I detected a note of warning in
+its tone.
+
+“Yes,” I said.
+
+I heard the sound of approaching footsteps, but I did not raise my eyes.
+
+“This is Dr. Belford,” the voice went on. “He is a clergyman, and will
+marry us.”
+
+The ceremony was much shorter than I had expected it to be, and the
+words were quietly spoken. A strange thrill passed through me as the
+bridegroom took my hand, and I was trembling when he slipped the ring
+on my finger. Then, at last, I heard the fateful words:
+
+“I do now pronounce you man and wife.”
+
+And so I had my fairy prince at last!
+
+A great silence fell around me, then I heard the voice of the man who
+was now my husband.
+
+“Return to the cottage now, Pauline,” he said, gently. “To-morrow
+you will hear from me. It is forbidden that I should touch your
+lips with mine to-night, or that I should look into your eyes. But
+to-morrow--to-morrow----”
+
+I heard him turn away.
+
+“Good-night, my dear,” he said.
+
+“Good-night, Rayon,” I answered, humbly.
+
+And so on our bridal night we parted, and in a few moments I was
+returning to the log-house by the path along which I had come from it.
+I had proceeded only a few paces, however, when from the direction of
+the log-house there came the sound of a pistol shot.
+
+I halted and my heart grew still. Then I heard three other shots in
+quick succession. These were followed by the hoarse voices of men.
+
+For several moments terror held me spellbound. Then, standing
+motionless in the path, I heard the sound of someone running toward me
+from the forest. Cowering with fear, I shrank behind a dwarf evergreen.
+The dark shadow moved swiftly past, about thirty feet away from me.
+This was quickly followed by another. They were men, but I was unable
+to see the faces of either.
+
+A succession of women’s shrieks and the cries of men now rose from
+the log-house. Then, looking in that direction, I saw something that
+brought a cry of horror to my lips.
+
+The structure was in flames!
+
+Still I hesitated, but the pitiful cries of a woman--cries that I knew
+were Mrs. Seaver’s--caused me to fling to the winds all fears for my
+personal safety. Running and stumbling, I made my way along the path,
+and, as I ran, the dull, angry glow of the burning house grew brighter.
+I heard another pistol shot, but the only fear I felt was for the
+hostess who had so kindly cared for me.
+
+At length, reaching the clearing round the house, I saw Mrs. Seaver
+running toward me. I called her name, but at that moment a tall man
+overtook her, and, seizing her in a rough grasp, started with her
+toward the burning house. Up the steps he ran, then, with a curse so
+loud that it reached my ears, the man hurled the woman through the door.
+
+As I hurried forward, I recognized the perpetrator of the terrible act,
+and, in a shrieking voice, I cried:
+
+“Rayon--Rayon--are you mad?”
+
+The tall man turned and thrust away a second tall figure that was about
+to throw itself upon him. Then, as swiftly as a deer, Rayon ran to me.
+
+Never shall I forget the awful expression that I saw upon his face as,
+standing before me, he looked into my eyes.
+
+“Come--devil or angel--you belong to me now,” he said, laughing
+roughly. “To-night I have declared myself free.”
+
+As he grasped one of my arms it seemed to me that his fingers were
+burning their way to its bone.
+
+“Stop--stop--coward--help me!” I cried at the top of my voice.
+
+The lips of the magnificent fiend again parted in a smile.
+
+“Come,” he began, but he said no more.
+
+A powerful fist, passing before my eyes, had felled him to my feet.
+Freed from his grasp, I turned to the man who had rescued me.
+
+Then I saw that he to whom I owed my release was the man whose
+grotesque face--a very caricature of the human visage--had looked down
+upon me in New York while I was preparing to board a train for the
+Adirondacks--the man whose almost indescribable ugliness had caused me
+to refer to him as “the Gargoyle.”
+
+“Are you hurt?” he asked in an abrupt, thick voice.
+
+“No--no, but Mrs. Seaver! She----”
+
+The Gargoyle, laying one hand on my shoulder, pointed to the
+milk-house, and said:
+
+“She is safe. Go to her.”
+
+Rayon, who for a few moments had appeared to be insensible, now began
+to rise.
+
+“Go!” the Gargoyle repeated, sharply.
+
+I needed no further urging, and several seconds later I was at Mrs.
+Seaver’s side. She was moaning pitifully as I approached her, but, as
+soon as she saw me, she uttered a cry of relief and clasped me in her
+arms.
+
+“Who has done all this?” I asked.
+
+“The demons from the valley,” she sobbed. “It was the Indian who set
+fire to the house. The other--the white man----”
+
+James, one of the menservants, came running up.
+
+“We can’t save the house ma’am,” he said quickly, “but I guess all else
+is safe enough now. The redskin is dead, and--oh, God!”
+
+A look of horror overspread the speaker’s face and his rifle fell from
+his hand. Nor did I marvel that his courage had left him. Standing near
+us, with the lurid glare of the fire lighting his terrible features,
+was the Gargoyle.
+
+“’Tis the devil himself!” James muttered between his chattering teeth.
+
+With a little cry of terror, Mrs. Seaver hid her face in her hands.
+
+For several moments the strange being before me looked meditatively at
+our little group. Then, turning quickly, he strode off into the forest.
+
+“Oh, James--James, you must get us away from here to-night--now!” cried
+Mrs. Seaver desperately. “Where is George?”
+
+James, turning his face toward the lake, shrugged his shoulders
+slightly, but said nothing.
+
+“Dead?” I asked in a trembling voice.
+
+James faced me slowly.
+
+“Yes, Miss,” he said, quietly. “The white devil killed him--with an
+axe.”
+
+“And Mary?” Mrs. Seaver faltered.
+
+“She tried to shoot him, but he was too quick for her,” said James.
+“She, too, went down.” Then, turning to me, he added, abruptly: “He was
+seeking you, Miss. I was afraid----”
+
+I could hear no more. The ground seemed to give away beneath my feet,
+and, tottering forward, I stumbled and fell.
+
+When I recovered consciousness, James and Mrs. Seaver were helping me
+into a covered wagon. As I looked around me, I saw the barn was in
+flames, the light of which had transformed the lake I loved into a
+great orange-colored thing that filled me with dismay.
+
+“Where are we going?” I asked faintly, as I sank on a roll of blankets.
+
+“We are going to leave these terrible mountains,” Mrs. Seaver replied,
+in a strange, hard voice. “Until this hour I loved them, but I hate
+them now and I hope that I may never see them more. James will drive
+us to the nearest railway station, then he will report to the proper
+officials all that has happened. He will return with men to help him
+bury poor George and Mary. Everything we had here, except the horses
+and the wagon, has been destroyed, so let us go.”
+
+A week later, sitting in my apartment in New York, I read in a
+newspaper an account of how deputy sheriffs, seeking the outlaw, Rayon
+Demain, had come upon a remarkable cavern in Deadwood Valley. It was
+apparent that this cavern was, for the most part, the work of man.
+Windows, which afforded light and ventilation to the various chambers,
+were high up in an almost inaccessible mountainside, and were so
+cunningly constructed and concealed that it was not until after the
+secret entrance to the cavern had been discovered that their presence
+in the big rock wall was suspected.
+
+The cavern contained several galleries, and there were about nine
+rooms in all. In these rooms were found hundreds of valuable books,
+several different kinds of musical instruments, paraphernalia for the
+exhibition of moving pictures and a well-equipped gymnasium.
+
+But by far the most remarkable of the discoveries made was a large
+collection of magnificent paintings, most of which were of an
+allegorical nature. These had been identified as the work of Nathan
+Bonfield, who, many years before, had given promise of becoming one
+of the greatest painters of his period, but of whom, in recent years,
+little was known. It was found, too, that Bonfield was a frequent
+visitor to Deadwood Valley, and there was some reason to suspect that
+Rayon Demain, now charged with the murder of two of Mrs. Seaver’s
+servants, was some relative of the eccentric painter’s.
+
+It had been learned also that for many years an Indian, named
+Glenagassett, had been Demain’s almost constant attendant, and that
+it was this Indian who had lighted the fire that destroyed Mrs.
+Seaver’s buildings. What had been the motive that inspired this deed,
+no man knew. The Indian had been killed and Demain had mysteriously
+disappeared. Of Bonfield’s present whereabouts nothing was known.
+
+But before these matter-of-fact reports were published in the
+newspapers, I had been disillusioned. From the moment that the brutal
+Rayon had been sent to earth by a blow from a human hand, I knew how
+absurd had been those superstitions which, excited by that Adirondack
+storm, had endowed him with more than human attributes. My god-like
+man had degenerated into something that was little better than one of
+the lower animals. The outlaw, whose wife I had become, was either a
+monster or a madman.
+
+As may be readily understood, the secret of my night canoe trip and
+my midnight marriage never left my lips. I was resolved that not even
+Prince Maranotti should learn of my almost inconceivable act of folly,
+if I could prevent that knowledge from reaching him.
+
+Fearful lest I should again fall into the clutches of Demain, I became
+anxious to return to Europe. The fear of Meschid Pasha and his friend
+Glyncamp no longer haunted me. Upon me Meschid had no claim, and so
+long as I kept away from Turkish territory it was scarcely likely that
+either of these enemies would make any attempt to rob me of my newfound
+liberty. It was as the daughter of the late Prince Maranotti I would
+now take my place in the world.
+
+As soon as the young Prince, my brother, returned from the West I
+attempted to persuade him to allow me to go with him to Europe. To
+this, however, he demurred. I must remain in the United States, he
+said, and retain the name of Paula Trevison.
+
+“It is here that you must marry and make your home,” he told me.
+“Through Trevison I will make ample provision for you, but it is
+contrary to your interests and mine that you be known as Pauline
+Maranotti. The members of the nobility would not receive you, and your
+lot in Italy would be exceedingly unhappy.”
+
+I would not have it so, however. The result was that we quarreled and
+parted in anger. The following day I received a visit from the Prince’s
+American lawyer, who told me my brother had deposited in a New York
+bank the sum of ten thousand dollars, in the name of Paula Trevison.
+This was to constitute my allowance for the year. The lawyer also
+informed me that on that morning the Prince had embarked on a vessel
+for Italy.
+
+While the lawyer was with me, I succeeded in restraining my feelings,
+but as soon as he was gone a spirit of revolt asserted itself,
+and I determined that I would go to England, seek out my mother’s
+relatives and enlist their support in an attempt to assert my claim to
+recognition as a daughter of the house of Maranotti, and, as such, one
+who rightfully might claim a part of its vast estate.
+
+Kind as he had been to me, the Prince had at last plainly given me
+to understand that my mother’s flight from his father’s cruelty was
+unwarranted, and that, in the interest of the family, he would be
+compelled to recognize me only privately as his half-sister. In short
+I was to be dependent on his benevolence for that financial aid to
+which I had an hereditary right. This, together with the light manner
+in which he had set off for Europe, without coming to bid me farewell,
+had thoroughly angered me, and from a sense of respect for my injured
+mother, as well as from a sense of my individual rights in the matter,
+I was determined that this masquerade as Paula Trevison should cease.
+
+Having taken this resolution, I decided to act in accordance with it
+without delay.
+
+Looking over the advertising columns of a newspaper, I saw that a large
+steam yacht had been chartered by a tourist company for an early Autumn
+cruise among the British Isles. I never had been aboard a steam yacht,
+and it occurred to me that perhaps on such a vessel I would be less
+likely to be seen by anyone who had known me before. It was not such a
+vessel as a friend of Glyncamp’s or Meschid’s would be likely to take,
+nor was it probable that the fugitive, Demain, would embark on such a
+trip. I saw that I could leave the yacht at any of its stopping places,
+and as these, for the most part, were not likely to be regular ports of
+entry, I might the more easily succeed in escaping detection.
+
+The vessel was to sail on the morrow. Accordingly I drew from the bank
+the full amount that had been deposited there to my credit and took
+passage on the steam yacht, _Highland Lady_.
+
+Except for one incident, this voyage was uneventful. Near the close of
+our fourth day out, we sighted a derelict that lay almost directly in
+our course. As our yacht drew near this ill-fated vessel it was seen
+that it had been ravaged by fire, but from the charred staff over the
+stern a white cloth was fluttering, and a closer inspection showed that
+a rope was trailing from one of the davits. Believing, therefore, that
+some living person still might be on the helpless vessel, our captain
+sent four men in one of the yacht’s boats to learn whether survivors
+were aboard.
+
+On the derelict one man was found, and never shall I forget the
+spectacle he presented when, haggard and delirious, he was brought
+aboard the _Highland Lady_. He was taken to one of the staterooms, and,
+heartily pitying the poor fellow, I asked the yacht’s surgeon if I
+could do anything to aid him.
+
+The offer was made impulsively, and I was a little startled when the
+doctor said:
+
+“Why, yes, Miss Trevison, you can help me, if you will. He has a bad
+scratch on one of his arms--from a piece of metal, I suppose--and, if
+we don’t give it treatment at once, it is likely to cause considerable
+trouble.”
+
+Then, asking all others, except a stewardess and myself to leave the
+room, the doctor prepared to dress the injured arm. After a careful
+examination, he said he would have to lance it. He, therefore, asked
+me to hold the arm while he performed the simple operation. While he
+was preparing for this, the physician’s attention was distracted by the
+sound of a concertina, which, played by a little son of one of the
+passengers, had annoyed many persons during the voyage. The doctor,
+stepping to the door, directed that the concertina be silenced. He then
+turned to his patient.
+
+All was over in a few minutes, but, while I held the arm, the delirious
+man struggled desperately, and never will I forget the look of horror
+I saw on his haggard face. When the lancing was finished the doctor
+washed the arm and, after applying some sort of ointment, he bandaged
+it.
+
+When all was done, I left the stateroom, just as a steward entered it
+with a bowl of steaming broth.
+
+Later in the day, when I stopped at the stateroom door to learn the
+condition of the patient, he opened his eyes suddenly and, seeing me,
+he accused me of being a vampire. When I visited the stateroom on the
+following morning he repeated the strange charge. Then, learning that I
+was the only visitor whom he had addressed in this astonishing manner,
+I discontinued my visits.
+
+The _Highland Lady_ was to make her first stop at the Scilly Islands
+and, as it was scarcely likely that the sufferer would find good
+hospital treatment there, he was transferred to a vessel bound for
+Liverpool.
+
+Shortly after this, upon picking up an English newspaper that had been
+published only a day or two after we had taken the stranger from the
+_Hannibal_, I saw an account of how an American ship captain had sent a
+man aboard the _Hannibal_ in order that he might be able to report on
+the derelict’s condition. This man had found no one on the vessel. As
+his visit had been made more than a week after the burning _Hannibal_
+had been abandoned by its crew, and before it had been sighted by the
+_Highland Lady_, the fact that the presence of the famished man we
+took off had not been discovered, struck me as extraordinary. It did,
+however, account for the unburned rope which we had seen trailing from
+the davit.
+
+Upon my arrival in England, the few surviving relatives of my mother
+received me coldly, and were frank enough to tell me that the treatment
+I had received from the Prince was better than I had a right to expect.
+Then, reluctantly deciding to abandon my determination to insist that
+I should be formally acknowledged as the late Prince’s daughter, I
+returned to the United States.
+
+In the vessel that brought me across the Atlantic I met a young woman,
+about my own age, who was the wife of Adolph Janot, an aviator and
+the inventor of an improved seaplane which then was being subjected
+to a series of tests by the government. Mrs. Janot and I became great
+friends, and, when we arrived in New York, it was at her suggestion
+that I took a small suite of rooms in the apartment hotel in which she
+made her home. Several times, in the course of the weeks that followed,
+Mr. Janot invited me to go up with him in his big seaplane, but, unable
+to conquer my strange fears, I always declined.
+
+Correspondence between the Prince and myself soon completely effected
+a reconciliation, and when, a few months after our parting, he found
+it necessary to return to the United States, it was arranged that he
+should be my guest.
+
+It was while the Prince still was on the Atlantic that I saw in a
+newspaper a report of the death of Rayon Demain. According to this,
+the young man, who then was passing under an assumed name, was slain
+in Arizona in singularly mysterious circumstances. Concerning his
+identity, however, there was not the slightest doubt.
+
+The report was brief and I read the lines without emotion. My love for
+this misguided man was only an incident of a long midsummer night’s
+dream, after all. His physical perfections, his verses to me and the
+words I heard him speak while he guided the canoe across the moonlit
+lake had captivated me. Taking advantage of my superstitions, he had
+caused me to become his wife, then, in an hour of inexplicable madness,
+he had assumed the aspect of a fiend, and I had learned to loathe him.
+So lightly had I come to regard that midnight marriage that it was
+difficult for me to realize that in the eyes of the law I was a widow.
+
+When my half-brother and I met again we became even better friends than
+we had been before. He told me something, however, that disquieted
+me. Lord Galonfield had been seeking me in Europe, and had caused the
+Prince to be informed that he had obtained possession of the Rajiid
+diamonds which, according to an arrangement with Meschid Pasha, were to
+constitute the price of my hand in marriage. The Prince gave the young
+nobleman no information concerning me.
+
+Like me, the Prince was passionately fond of the better class of music,
+and, during the six months he remained in New York, we frequently went
+together to musicales and the opera. It was at the Metropolitan Opera
+House that I first saw Philip Wadsworth, a well-to-do young man, who
+was destined to play an important part in my life.
+
+The circumstances incident to the manner in which Mr. Wadsworth wooed
+and wed me have been related by that gentleman himself.
+
+Several times I had been puzzled by his occasional periods of
+abstraction, but on the day of our marriage I was wholly at a loss to
+account for his remarkable display of nervousness, and, during the
+ceremony, I observed that some of his responses were uttered almost as
+if he were speaking against his will. His increasing haggardness in
+the cab that took us to the pier startled me, and then, for the first
+time, I fancied that I saw in his face something that was suggestive
+of a face I had seen before. But it was not until he entered the
+stateroom, just before the vessel left the pier, that I recognized him.
+
+The haggard face of my husband was that of the delirious man who had
+been taken from the derelict, and in his eyes was the same expression I
+had seen in them when he had called me a vampire!
+
+Then, as if in confirmation of my discovery, there came to my ears from
+the pier the sound of a concertina. Several times, while the rescued
+man was on board the _Highland Lady_, passengers found it necessary to
+rebuke the irrepressible boy whose playing of a concertina near the
+sick man’s room was likely to disturb his rest.
+
+Deserted by the man who, scarcely more than an hour before, had made me
+his wife, I continued on my way to Europe. There a cablegram from the
+Prince recalled me to the United States. Upon my return I was informed
+that Mr. Wadsworth had mysteriously disappeared, leaving no explanation
+of his desertion of me.
+
+My brother’s anger and indignation knew no bounds, but, fearing that if
+the affair got to the attention of the public, his true name might be
+revealed, he decided to institute no legal proceedings against the man
+who had so cruelly deserted me.
+
+When the time arrived for me to bid farewell to the Prince, I went down
+to the pier with Mrs. Janot to see him off. On my return to my room, I
+found among the letters the postman had brought during my absence an
+envelope addressed in a handwriting that drove the color from my face.
+
+I quickly opened the envelope, and, as I drew out the sheet it
+contained I saw it contained more verses from the hand of Rayon Demain!
+
+With a cry of anguish, I sank insensible to the floor.
+
+When I recovered consciousness, Mrs. Janot was bending over me. As, in
+her sympathetic way, she asked me the cause of my trouble, I shrank
+from her in dismay.
+
+What would this good woman have said if I had told her I was a bigamist?
+
+The following day I received other verses, and a letter. Neither bore
+the hated name, however, for they were signed “Thy Gondolier.” The
+letter informed me that the writer was in New York, and he besought
+me to receive him when he called at three o’clock on the following
+afternoon.
+
+I had rented my apartment furnished, and three trunks were sufficient
+to hold all my personal property. These trunks were quickly packed,
+and, four hours after I had received the verses and letter, I left the
+house.
+
+I went first to a modest hotel, and then rented and furnished a flat in
+the northern part of the city. The only persons who knew my new address
+were the Janots and the Prince’s lawyer.
+
+For several weeks I was undisturbed, then I was completely prostrated
+by the report of the assassination of Prince Maranotti, at Basselanto.
+The news came to me through his American lawyer, who informed me that
+two men were suspected of the crime. Of these, one was a man whose
+features were those of a “laughing devil,” and the other was a cousin
+of the man who was slain.
+
+The description of the first man was so similar to that of the man
+known to me as the “Gargoyle,” that I could scarcely doubt that it was
+indeed this person who had committed the act. I had heard the Prince
+speak once of a cousin in America--“a helpless sort of a fellow,” he
+said--whom I might chance to meet one day. He advised me, however, not
+to take this man into my confidence.
+
+Assured by my legal adviser that my claim to the Maranotti estates
+was indisputable, I placed the matter entirely in his hands. He then
+decided that, for the present, at least, it would be better for me to
+remain in the United States while he went to Italy to consult with
+legal authorities there. Two days after my lawyer sailed, a cablegram
+from Italy was received at his office. The cablegram yielded the
+information that the will of Prince Maranotti had been found and that
+he left all the Maranotti estates to me.
+
+Five days have passed since my lawyer left New York. During the first
+three I remained in my apartments. Yesterday afternoon, however, Mrs.
+Janot invited me to take an automobile trip with her to Rockaway where,
+at the aviation station, her husband was going to try out one of his
+new seaplanes. Believing the trip would improve my spirits, which were
+somewhat depressed because of my long seclusion indoors, I accepted the
+invitation.
+
+Arriving at Rockaway, we were welcomed by Mr. Janot, who, in a launch,
+took us out to the new seaplane. Not suspecting that any attempt would
+be made to take me on a flight against my will, I was easily persuaded
+to board the big machine and seat myself in the fusilage. For several
+minutes Mr. Janot explained to me the nature of the mechanism by means
+of which the seaplane was controlled. While I listened, a mechanician
+was oiling one of the great motors.
+
+With a suddenness that completely bewildered me, the whole structure
+began to vibrate and I was almost deafened by the sound of the motors’
+exhaust. I turned to protest, but in the roar my words were inaudible.
+Mr. Janot smiled grimly and avoided my gaze as he continued to
+manipulate the mechanical devices with which he was surrounded.
+
+With ever-increasing speed, the plane now was moving over the surface
+of the water; then I saw we were rising. Slowly my resentment died
+away. As we sped onward and upward, I closed my eyes. Again I found
+myself under the spell of old Arabian tales. One moment I felt like
+Sinbad in the talons of a roc; another, and I was mounted on the back
+of a flying steed, and then I would fancy I was nestling on the crooked
+arm of a great, black, Sphinx-faced genie, who, with the speed of a
+comet, was traversing the star-strewn wilderness of the night. Nor
+did the mighty coughing of the motors’ exhaust find vulnerable the
+all-pervading ecstasy which filled my mind with visions of the wonders
+of Mohammed’s Paradise.
+
+From time to time I looked down at the wonderful panorama that was
+moving under me. I caught my breath as I saw scores of clusters of
+toy-houses, and woods and fields, and the sea, wrinkled and gray,
+stretching out to the horizon.
+
+But, suddenly, my fears overwhelmed me again. The coughing of the
+motors ceased and I was conscious of a faint sensation of sinking.
+Looking down, I saw there was land below us--a great expanse of
+greenish-yellow meadows, lined with many gray creeks of various sizes.
+Toward these meadows the seaplane was gliding, apparently heading for a
+big barge that was moored to a bank of one of the larger creeks.
+
+It was near the mouth of one of the creeks that we came to water.
+Scarcely was the seaplane at rest when Mr. Janot and his mechanician
+began making a collapse boat ready for service. As I looked at them
+wonderingly, Mr. Janot said:
+
+“Something serious has happened. The motors are overheated and the
+machine is unsafe. We must get you ashore at once.”
+
+Two or three minutes later I was in the boat and Mr. Janot rowed me to
+the shore. He helped me to land. As he stepped back into the boat, he
+said:
+
+“The condition of the plane is such that I dare not ask you to return
+to it. I think you will have little difficulty in getting to a
+railway station, with the assistance of someone you will find on the
+barge yonder.” He paused, then added: “When we meet again, you will
+understand, and will not blame me for leaving you in this unfortunate
+situation. Good-night.”
+
+Speechless with astonishment, I watched him row back to the seaplane.
+Soon after he boarded it, its exhaust sounded again and it took the air.
+
+The declining sun warned me that if I was to get to the railroad before
+nightfall, it would be necessary for me to act quickly. Not far from me
+was the barge I had seen in the course of the seaplane’s descent. I was
+about to go toward this when I heard the discharge of a gun, and saw
+the fall of several ducks that had been flying overhead. Thinking that
+the man who fired the gun was from the barge, I hurried toward the bank
+which concealed him from my view. Reaching this, I saw him in a little
+boat, and to him I appealed for aid in getting me to the railroad.
+This, he thought, could not be done at night. Thanks to his courtesy,
+however, I soon found myself on this barge where I was welcomed by Mr.
+Westfall. I was compelled to remain against my will, but already our
+host has partly convinced me that it was well I did so. Painful as have
+been the narratives of the three gentlemen who have proved that I have
+been responsible for the grievous misfortunes that have befallen them,
+I willingly await the stories to be told by the others, with the hope
+that what they have to tell will lift forever from my unhappy life the
+clouds of mystery and fear which now envelop it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As the Veiled Aeronaut finished speaking, all eyes, flashing with
+disapproval and curiosity, were turned toward the Gargoyle, whose
+ever-smiling face was partly concealed by one of his long, white hands.
+
+“Well, sir--well?” demanded the Nervous Physician, irritably. “We are
+now prepared to hear your explanation, I believe.”
+
+The Gargoyle, drumming nervously on the table, glanced interrogatively
+toward Westfall. But before the millionaire had time to speak, the
+Fugitive Bridegroom, leaning across the table, addressed the Aeronaut.
+
+“Then my--my doubts--my horrible suspicions--were only the results of
+delirium, after all,” he said, in a hoarse, broken voice.
+
+“Of course, of course,” replied the Nervous Physician. “Isn’t it clear
+enough to you now? There is scarcely an hour in the day when some
+delirious man or woman in New York is not receiving such impressions. A
+man whose bare feet get below his bedclothes on a Winter’s night will
+dream that he is in the Arctic regions, and to a dreamer incidents
+which seem to occupy hours will pass through his mind in a few seconds.
+Science has shown that in a five-minute dream a man may read a
+three-volume novel. Most men know this, and, when delirium is passed,
+they have sense enough to put aside the fantastic impressions they have
+received. You, however, have hoarded yours, with the result that you
+have made a fool of yourself, and have withdrawn from this inestimable
+young woman the protection she had a natural right to expect from
+you. I have no sympathy for you, sir--none. Now let us hear what this
+miserable Gargoyle has to say. Why don’t you speak, sir?”
+
+“Stop!” commanded Westfall sharply. “In no circumstances, Doctor, is
+any of my guests to be subjected to insult while on this barge. The
+Gargoyle awaits your apology, sir.”
+
+The Homicidal Professor leaned forward.
+
+“We are to understand, then, that the appearance of the Princess
+on this marsh, and so near this barge, is not to be regarded as a
+coincidence?” he asked, impressively.
+
+Westfall shook his head gravely.
+
+“No, it was not that,” he said. “Having learned that her highness was
+on friendly terms with the Janots, I persuaded the aviator to bring
+her here at the time and in the manner she appeared. Our plan had been
+carefully arranged. But, Doctor, I have reminded you that the Gargoyle
+is expecting an apology.”
+
+“Well, let him have it, then,” snapped the nervous physician, as the
+Homicidal Professor again settled back in his chair. “I apologize now,
+sir, but, in time, I may withdraw my apology.”
+
+“We will now hear the story of the Hypochondriacal Painter,” said
+Westfall.
+
+The Hypochondriacal Painter stroked his white beard meditatively for a
+few moments, then, in a deep, mellow voice, he began:
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+
+                            THE IMAGE OF GOD
+
+
+The story which I have to tell will be briefer than the others you have
+heard, but it is the story of twenty-three long, delusive years. It
+is the story of an ambition that was reaching up to Heaven when, like
+Babel’s tower, it succumbed to confusion, and fell crumbling to the
+earth.
+
+My father, dying just after I became of age, left me a large, carefully
+invested fortune, and if I had acted in accordance with his last wishes
+I would have addressed myself to commercial pursuits, as he had done.
+But Art had enthralled my mind, and I made my home in Paris where I
+studied painting under several masters.
+
+From the first, fortune favored me, and critics already were beginning
+to refer to me as the most promising painter that the New World ever
+had given to the old. My head was turned, and I aspired to climb to
+artistic heights that few men had been bold enough to try to scale.
+
+I conceived the idea of a great painting that should be my masterpiece.
+In this the central figure was to be the Deity, Himself. For more than
+two years I sought a model for this wonderful figure, but my search was
+vain. My idea had its inception in the scriptural authority that “God
+created man in his own image.” I sought the perfect man. During this
+period I made hundreds of sketches, trying to evolve from many models
+points of perfection that might be embodied in an harmonious whole.
+
+I had no suggestion from any of the old masters to aid me. Every deity
+that the world has worshipped has been, at some time and in some
+manner, represented by the reverent hands of sculptors and painters.
+But few Christian sculptors ever attempted to give form to Him who made
+man in His own image, and these few were content to imitate the ancient
+conceptions of Jove.
+
+Late one New Year’s Eve, I knew that I had failed, so, collecting all
+the sketches I had made, I hurled them into my fireplace. Then, with
+a sharp knife, I went to the end of the studio where stood the great
+canvas, with its background partly painted, on which I had designed to
+place my conception of the wonderful image.
+
+I mounted a stepladder, and was about to thrust the knife into the top
+of the canvas when a sound, coming to me from the hall, caused me to
+hesitate.
+
+It was the cry of a new-born child!
+
+I knew its parents. The father had died six months before this
+plaintive cry, even now, had reached my ears. He had been an
+unfortunate artist, and had left his widow so destitute that I was
+contributing to her support. She was nearly forty now, and, in
+her youth she had been very beautiful. But poverty and care had
+extinguished many of her former charms long before this, her first,
+child came into the world to share her life of misery.
+
+A new idea now flashed into my mind, and, as I thought, I slowly
+descended the ladder.
+
+Half an hour later, when I laid the gleaming knife upon my table, the
+canvas was still untouched by the blade, and in that still, grimy old
+studio it remains untouched at this very hour, for no foot has crossed
+the threshold since that fateful New Year’s Eve.
+
+I took the infant from its dying mother’s arms, and before the first
+month of the new year was ended the babe was in the United States. Here
+I confided it to the care of a New England woman who, for two years,
+cared for it as if it had been her own.
+
+I had been shooting and painting in the Adirondacks several years
+before, and, profoundly impressed by the grandeur of its great mountain
+fastnesses, I thought that somewhere among them it might be possible
+to find one which no human foot, unguided by mine, would tread for a
+quarter of a century.
+
+I now determined to search for such a valley, and, taking with me
+Glenagassett, the most perfect type of Indian manhood I had ever met, I
+set out on my quest.
+
+In course of time, we came to what is now known as Deadwood Valley.
+There I found a little natural cave, and across the front of this
+Glenagassett and I built a wall of logs. Then, returning to New York,
+I took the two-year-old child, and, retracing my steps through the
+mountains, I found myself again in the valley. Here I gave the child
+into the care of Glenagassett.
+
+To the Indian I then confided my purpose. I told him that this child
+was Rayon Demain--“the beam of to-morrow”--that he was the son of the
+Great Spirit, himself, and that he should come to possess all the
+Great Spirit’s powers should he attain his twenty-third year without
+seeing the face of a woman, or exchanging words with any man whom I
+did not take to him myself. Amid these solitudes the child should be
+taught that he was lord of all, and that when the right hour came, his
+supremacy over nature and man would be fully proclaimed.
+
+The boy, Rayon, was to be taught the language of the forest as Indians
+had been able to understand it. He should be impressed, too, with
+the belief that the storm, the waves and every living thing in the
+wilderness were daily beseeching him to exert in their behalf his
+god-like, dormant power.
+
+I told the Indian also that not until the boy was ten years old would
+I see him again, but that at that time, when his forest education was
+done, I would bring other teachers.
+
+All this was in accordance with a theory that I had formed--a theory
+that the human mind is the sculptor of the features and poise that
+express its meaning. In short, that if a man is to have the facial
+expression of a god, he must think as a god, and have god-like things
+to look upon.
+
+When the workmen left the valley, Rayon and Glenagassett reentered
+it. While he was away the boy had seen no face other than that of the
+Indian.
+
+When the lad was ten I visited him. I saw Glenagassett had done well.
+Whether Rayon talked, walked, ran, or swam in the dark lake, his grace,
+dignity and self-possession amazed me, and, always clean-minded and
+with more than even a proud man’s self-respect, he already had begun to
+develop the most remarkable beauty I ever had seen on a human face.
+
+I then had a new and more spacious rock chamber finished, and I sent to
+Rayon teachers whom I could trust to carry out the delusion I had been
+so carefully fostering in his mind. Believing me to be a messenger of
+the Great Spirit, his father, he corresponded with me, reporting to me
+on what he had learned each day. The books, music and pictures I sent
+to him were carefully chosen, and were of a nature to encourage in him
+a belief that he was superior to the human race.
+
+When the boy was eighteen I began to visit him more frequently. Amazed
+by the manner in which my theory was working out, I began to feel
+myself inferior to this strange youth, whose mind was dominated by a
+sense of power, and into whose heart no guile had ever entered. There
+were times when even I was half-tempted to share Glenagassett’s belief
+that the youth really possessed divine attributes.
+
+At length, when the boy was twenty, I assured myself that I would have
+only three or four years more to wait, and that then the marvelous
+figure would at last find its place on the big canvas in my closed
+Parisian studio.
+
+Clouds at last began to rise above the horizon, however. In the valley
+below Deadwood lake a woman established a summer home, and brought
+several servants with her. Glenagassett wanted to burn the log-house
+then, but, fool that I was, I forbade him to do so. I was beginning to
+be confident of Rayon’s own power now.
+
+Rayon had just entered his twenty-second year when, on a visit to the
+valley, I learned that a beautiful young woman had passed through the
+mountains. The Indian feared she was going to live with Mrs. Seaver.
+
+“Shall I kill her?” Glenagassett asked me, eagerly.
+
+But--still a fool--I told him ‘no’--to wait and see.
+
+One day, while I was sitting in the cavern, there came a violent storm.
+I rose, and, walking to one of the windows, I watched the tempest as it
+rocked and threshed the valley. When it was over I lay down and slept.
+
+When I awoke a sweet, strange sound was coming to me through the window
+I left open. Rising quickly I hurried to the window and listened.
+
+It was a love-song--sung by a woman whose voice, stealing through and
+over the silent wilderness, was as beautiful as an angel’s.
+
+Hurrying down the shore, I ran like a madman toward the place from
+which the voice was rising--the very spot on which I stood when I
+first delivered the little Rayon into the keeping of Glenagassett.
+
+It was a long, hard scramble that I had undertaken, and my way lay over
+soggy mounds, shifting stones and fallen trees. Branch after branch
+smote me as I ran, until, with my strength all spent, I was compelled
+to pause before I reached my destination.
+
+The first song had ceased, then, after a pause, the voice of the singer
+rose again. She was singing “The Lost Chord.”
+
+Once more I staggered on, and, when I came upon the singer, I saw that
+Rayon stood beside her in the moonlight, with a hand resting on one of
+her arms.
+
+Despair suddenly gripped my heart as I realized that the woman was no
+less beautiful than her wondrous voice!
+
+My effort to draw Rayon away was successful, but, all the way back to
+the cavern he strode ahead of me, gazing sullenly to the ground.
+
+At the cavern entrance he turned.
+
+“Are all the devils as fair as that?” he asked.
+
+I shook my head.
+
+“No, no,” I answered, gravely. “The fairest has been sent to tempt the
+strongest man.”
+
+He looked at me long and steadily.
+
+“If you have deceived me, you must not live longer, Nathan,” he said;
+then, as if thinking aloud, he added: “I will see, I will see.”
+
+That night the cavern chambers were too narrow to hold my thoughts,
+so I went out into the valley, and for more than three hours I walked
+alone beneath the stars.
+
+Returning to the cavern I woke Glenagassett.
+
+“The women must leave the valley below,” I said.
+
+“They shall go,” Glenagassett answered.
+
+Not once on the following day did Rayon speak to me. At night he
+retired early to his chamber.
+
+The following morning, when I saw Glenagassett, I said:
+
+“The women are not gone.”
+
+“They will go to-night,” he replied, gloomily.
+
+I nodded, and passed on. That day Rayon started off alone, but the
+Indian followed him. In the evening Rayon came to me.
+
+“Does the Prince of Evil always look like the pictures we see of him,
+Nathan?” he asked.
+
+“I think so,” I answered. “But why do you ask me that?”
+
+“Because I’ve seen him,” he muttered, thoughtfully. “He haunts her
+every night, and----”
+
+“Haunts who?” I asked.
+
+“The woman.”
+
+“Well, may he take her, then!” I retorted, irritably.
+
+“Do you think he will?”
+
+“I have not the slightest doubt that he will get her eventually,” I
+muttered.
+
+“The Prince of Darkness must be tamed,” he said, gloomily. “We’ll see
+to that--Glenagassett and I.”
+
+Half-choked by emotions of anger and fear, I looked at him several
+moments, without speaking. Rayon was looking down the valley toward the
+stream through which the waters of Deadwood Lake pass to the valley
+below.
+
+“You have been going to the log-house at night?” I asked.
+
+“He is always there,” Rayon went on moodily, “and, night before last, I
+met him face to face. Nathan, what is fear? How does one feel, who has
+it?”
+
+“He feels as you must never feel, Rayon,” I replied, looking at him
+wonderingly.
+
+“Is it a shrinking feeling--a feeling that a man might have if some
+great eagle fastened its talons in his head and was jerking out all his
+thoughts? Is it a thing that traps his voice, and holds down his hands
+when he would raise them--that grips his feet like boggy places?”
+
+“Yes--yes,” I faltered. “But----”
+
+“Then I have felt it, Nathan,” he went on, gravely. “I have been a
+coward.”
+
+“In Heaven’s name, Rayon!” I began, but, with one of his imperious
+gestures, he silenced me.
+
+“For the last two nights, while you thought me sleeping, I have been in
+the other valley,” the young man said. “When I went there on the night
+I saw the woman, a strange thing happened. I had it in my mind to seize
+her and bring her here, where I might look at her and make her sing
+whenever it pleased me to hear her. But in the log-house there were
+many windows, and, while I stood in a shadow, wondering which might be
+the window of her room, I saw a figure that I took to be a man steal
+around the corner of the house. Leaving the shadow, I walked toward the
+figure. It turned, and, when I saw its features, I knew it was no man.
+It was the Prince of Darkness, himself.”
+
+“Come--Rayon, Rayon!” I muttered, protestingly.
+
+“It was he, and no other,” the young man said, with an appearance of
+the most unmistakable conviction. “And, as I looked at his grinning,
+triangular, black-bearded face, I felt that thing which, as I know now,
+was fear.”
+
+“Did he speak?” I asked, sharply.
+
+“Not there. For a long time--it may have been one minute or thirty, but
+I felt as if it would never end--he kept his gaze on mine. I could not
+tell whether he had expected me, or whether my coming had taken him by
+surprise. The evil smile on his hideous face revealed nothing. His
+awful eyes held me as a serpent’s holds a bird’s. Their beams burned
+like brands. Though he was smiling, no muscle of his face had moved. He
+stood like a thing of stone.”
+
+Thrill after thrill passed over me. Was Rayon crazed, or had he,
+indeed, seen this hideous thing? A great chill smote me as I saw that
+drops of perspiration were gathering on the speaker’s brow. Ay, it
+was plain that fear had come to him, at last. For the first time, in
+many years, I remembered that he had had a mother. The creature I had
+labored so long to invest with divine attributes had woman’s blood in
+him, after all. He who created man in His own image made the first of
+our race All-Man. It was not until the first man learned to love a
+woman that there came into the world those strange hybrids who were to
+people it--men with some of the weaknesses of women, and women with
+some of those higher, and partly divine, attributes, with which God
+invested man.
+
+After a pause, Rayon went on:
+
+“At length the creature looked toward the open window he had been
+approaching when my footsteps attracted his attention. For a few
+moments, the fear passed from me, and, with my eyes, I tried to measure
+his strength. I saw that he was as powerful as I. I think I should have
+thrown myself upon him had not he turned again to me so soon. Then
+my will left me. He pointed to a dark, heavily timbered spot in the
+forest, just beyond the clearing. Like a child, I did his bidding, and,
+as I walked, I heard him following slowly.
+
+“At last I heard his voice. It was so different from yours or
+Glenagassett’s--so much like my own--that it startled me.
+
+“‘Let us stop here,’ he said.
+
+“I halted, and, as I turned to him, I saw his back was to the narrow
+shaft of moonlight that came through a rift in the mass of foliage
+above. Of this I was glad, for, if we were to talk, I would not be
+compelled to see his face. But I soon knew he had not taken me to that
+dark place to hear me speak.
+
+“‘Among these mountains there are many valleys, and no man is lord of
+all,’ he began. ‘The valley above is yours, to have and to hold until
+that man comes who shall cast you out. But this valley belongs to me,
+and I hold it by virtue of a stronger will than your own. When you
+leave it now, take with you the knowledge that, if you return to it,
+the old impious fool who so long has deluded you, will never again look
+on the living form of Rayon Demain. Now go.’
+
+“As he spoke, he turned from me and moved quickly into the darker
+shadows that lay around us. But if he thought that I, standing in the
+moonlight, did not see him take a revolver from his pocket, he did not
+know that my eyes could penetrate far darker shades than those in which
+he stood to watch me.
+
+“I was unarmed, and, having felt that thing which comes over forest
+animals when men approach them, I knew that you had lied to me--that,
+after all, I was only a man, and would die like a deer, or bear or
+stricken bird if this strange being discharged his weapon at me. And so
+I did his bidding. I came back to this valley, and, as I stole hither,
+like a scourged hound, I heard stealthy footsteps following me as I
+went. I knew they were the footsteps of him who had taught me how to
+fear. It was not until I entered the valley that I knew my enemy had
+turned back.
+
+“But, though I had walked that night as one who did the bidding of
+a master, my thoughts were not those of a coward. Nor were they the
+thoughts of one who was still a fool. I knew many things I had not
+known before. I knew that I was only a man--that he whom you have
+just told me was the Prince of Darkness was only a man; that when my
+enemy had spoken of ‘the old impious fool’ who had so long deluded me,
+he meant you--you, whom I have known as Nathan--you who would have a
+creature who is capable of feeling fear believe himself to be a god.”
+
+As he bent his gaze on me now, I shrank appalled from what I saw.
+His eyes were burning fires in which seemed to be generated the
+whiteheated hate that was trembling on his face.
+
+The man whom I had striven to make god-like had become an angered
+demon. In the Babel I had reared the confusion of tongues already had
+entered. Fear and Hate had gained admission, and I, the trembling
+architect, felt as if it were too late for me to escape from the
+tottering walls before they fell.
+
+For several moments, confronted by that great hate, I doubted not that
+the man it had mastered would take my life. But his will fought back
+the fires, and once more a look of sullenness settled on his face. Then
+he spoke as quietly as he had done before.
+
+“And so, knowing these things, I knew that the devil-faced creature,
+who had triumphed over me while I was unarmed, would have to die--that
+I must kill him before I would be able to get the woman,” he went on.
+“That is why I went again to the log-house last night. Hour after hour
+I sat in the fringe of the forest, watching for the man I had gone
+there to slay. But he did not come. I would have taken the woman then,
+had I not believed that he might follow and take me unawares while I
+had her in my arms. But, whether or not he comes to-night, I will bring
+the woman here.”
+
+Trembling with astonishment and anger, more than fear, I laid a hand on
+one of his broad shoulders.
+
+“Rayon--Rayon--are you mad?” I gasped.
+
+Drawing back, he laughed harshly. Then, with a sudden movement he
+reached forward and, grasping me with his powerful hands, he raised me
+from the ground and held me out at arms’ length, shaking me as if I
+were a child.
+
+“Yes, mad--mad--mad--you old fool graybeard--mad!” he cried. “But I am
+not half so mad as you would make me.”
+
+Then, with a wild, rough laugh, he flung me to the ground with such
+force that, writhing with pain, I could not draw a breath.
+
+When, at last, quivering with physical pain and mental anguish, I
+scrambled to my feet, I saw I was alone.
+
+Raising my voice, I feebly called the name of Glenagassett. There was
+no response. Where had the Indian gone? Had I not told him to keep
+Rayon always in his sight? As my strength returned to me, I called
+louder.
+
+Then suddenly I remembered that when I last had seen the Indian,
+earlier in the day, he had told me that the women in the valley below
+would “leave to-night.”
+
+I never had known Glenagassett to break his word. How he designed to
+get the women away I did not know. It was a subject that I had feared
+to think upon, but I knew the next morning would not find them there.
+
+Glenagassett undoubtedly was in the lower valley, and Rayon was now
+well on his way thither. What would happen if they met?
+
+Into one of my pockets I slipped a revolver, then, with long, eager
+strides, I set out along the path that led to the valley below.
+
+My strides soon quickened to a run. Then, losing breath, I slackened
+my pace to a walk again. On and on I went--now walking, now running,
+until Deadwood Valley was well behind me. At length, however, I heard a
+sound that brought me to a halt.
+
+It was the sound of a pistol shot, and, as I listened, others broke the
+stillness of the night.
+
+I had not far to go, and, as I ran, I dropped the burden of my years.
+A mighty resolve had hardened my heart and steeled my sinews. As I
+pressed on, the revolver that I brought with me was in my hand. The
+woman who was the cause of all this mischief should die, even if every
+bullet that I might fire should pass through her body into the heart of
+Rayon Demain!
+
+I heard the shouts of men, and I knew that it was no one-sided battle
+that was on. Glenagassett had told me that the old woman’s two
+menservants were well-seasoned forest men of the same hard stuff of
+which the Adirondack guides are made. I had seen these from a distance,
+and I knew that neither of them was the “devil-faced” man Rayon had
+encountered. Who this stranger was I was unable to guess.
+
+Shots and shouts ceased suddenly, then I heard a woman’s shrieks. These
+encouraged me in the belief that, thus far, victory lay with Rayon--or
+Glenagassett. It was the triumph of Glenagassett for which I was hoping
+now.
+
+Suddenly, a dull, red glare began to steal through and over the forest
+trees. The odor of burning wood was in my nostrils. A wild, quavering,
+exultant cry issued from my throat, for I knew that the victory lay
+with Glenagassett--that it was mine.
+
+From the log-house now there came no sound. The cries of the frightened
+women were still, and the fire glow became so bright that I could see
+distinctly the outlines of the boughs under which I was passing. Among
+the trees and bushes, however, the inhabitants of the forest were
+astir. Birds and squirrels had scented that which they dread even more
+than man--the smoke of an Adirondack forest fire.
+
+Suddenly I remembered that I was old. My strength was spent, and my
+heaving chest felt as if it were filled with molten metal. My limbs
+were palsied by the violence of the unwonted efforts I had required of
+them. As I tottered on, the revolver fell from the hand that had been
+grasping it. I stooped to pick it up. I saw it gleaming--gleaming at my
+feet. I touched it--fell, and felt the damp earth against my throbbing
+temples.
+
+“I will sleep,” I murmured. “All is well. Glenagassett has triumphed,
+and the woman--the woman----”
+
+Ay, I slept, and when I woke the sun was shining.
+
+So stiff was I in every joint and muscle that even the slightest
+movement gave me pain. The atmosphere was laden with the dank, heavy
+odor of burnt wood, but I saw no smoke.
+
+Rising weakly, I looked around me. I had fallen in the forest, near
+the edge of the clearing that surrounded the log-house. But now I saw
+that the log-house was gone. A mass of black, faintly smoking embers
+was all that was left of the picturesque little home that an honest,
+nature-loving old woman had built here in the wilderness beside the
+still smiling lake.
+
+But the blackened fragments of the log-house and barn were not all I
+saw. Lying in the clearing there were other objects, and, as these met
+my view, I knew they were human sacrifices that had been laid before
+the altar of my ambition.
+
+All unmindful of the pains that had been racking my body and limbs,
+I passed from one still form to another. The first I saw was that of
+poor, devoted Glenagassett. The two others apparently were the bodies
+of servants--one a man and the other a woman. Of Rayon, of the woman
+who had owned the log-house, and of the young woman who had been her
+guest there was no trace.
+
+One thing, however, was certain, and the knowledge of this made me a
+coward. Murder had been done, and those who sought the persons who were
+responsible for the night attack might, even now, be on their way to
+this valley. Thus, in the sunset of my wasted life, I was nothing more
+than a wretched criminal, for, though I had not been present when these
+three hapless beings were slain, I was as responsible for their deaths
+as if they had fallen before the revolver I had taken with me to the
+spot.
+
+Had Rayon succeeded in getting the young woman to the cavern, after
+all? Did he know that, whether he had done this or not, the law would
+seek him out and punish him? Should I not go to the cavern and tell him
+of his peril?
+
+I shook my head.
+
+No, neither Rayon nor the woman was anything to me now. If he still
+lived, he was young and I was old. I had failed in all things. Let him
+work out his destiny alone.
+
+Beside the body of the manservant lay his rifle, and around the waist
+was a cartridge belt. After taking possession of these, I knelt down
+beside Glenagassett and took from one of his pockets the flint and
+steel with which, for many years, he had kindled all his fires. Then,
+after one long, last look toward Deadwood Valley, I plunged into the
+wilderness, nor did I emerge from it again until the songbirds had
+taken flight for the Southland, and the frost was causing the nuts to
+drop from the trees. When I returned to civilization, it was at a point
+far distant from those from which I had been wont to approach Deadwood
+Valley.
+
+Since the day I found Glenagassett’s body, it has been only in my
+dreams that I have heard the voice of Rayon Demain. But I knew that he
+did not die in the Adirondacks. From time to time newspapers published
+accounts of efforts that had been made to capture him. At first, he was
+sought only as “the Adirondack murderer,” but later other crimes in
+distant parts of the country were laid to his charge. How a man with
+such a striking face and figure could succeed in escaping capture, I
+could not understand.
+
+At length, however, newspapers reported a misadventure that befell him
+in the West, and through them I learned the name of one who was able to
+give me the details of the affair. That gentleman, replying to a letter
+which I wrote to him, told me a story which is little less remarkable
+than the one you have just heard from my lips. He is that guest who is
+known to you as the Duckhunter, and you doubtless soon will hear from
+him the strange facts he has to tell.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The eyes of all except two of the guests were turned toward the
+Duckhunter. While the Hypochondriacal Painter had been speaking, the
+Aeronaut had drawn her veil over her face again, and, from that moment,
+those who glanced toward her saw that not once was her gaze turned
+from the Gargoyle. As if conscious of this fact, the Gargoyle sat with
+his head bowed. His right arm rested on the table, and his right hand
+shielded his eyes and part of his face.
+
+There was a little pause, then, as no one seemed inclined to speak,
+Westfall nodded toward the Duckhunter, who forthwith began his story.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII
+
+                            ON DESERT SANDS
+
+
+Though the story you have had from the lips of the Hypochondriacal
+Painter is one of a weight of woe that was accumulated in the course
+of twenty-three long, wasted years, I doubt whether the mental anguish
+it has excited in the mind of its narrator is greater than that which,
+coming to me in a single hour, has blighted all that remains to me in
+life.
+
+My vocation is one of the most unfortunate that a man may follow, for
+it leads me among unpleasant places in my search for unpleasant men.
+In short, then, I am a member of the United States Secret Service. In
+that service, a specific order is as immutable as one of the laws of
+nature, and this is one reason why its members are chosen so carefully.
+It is because I, a graduate of West Point, and for many years an army
+officer, have always regarded an order of my chief as superior to any
+law of man or State that my position in the service is second only to
+that of the chief himself.
+
+My connection with this wonderful series of adventures, which have been
+described to you by guests here present, began with an order which came
+to me from my chief immediately after I disembarked from a vessel which
+had brought me from Japan, where I had been engaged on a secret and
+highly important mission.
+
+This order directed me to proceed without delay to Arizona, and there
+assume charge of a party of our men who had traced to that State one
+William Farnley, whose beautiful wife had been identified as a member
+of one of the most clever and desperate gangs of counterfeiters that
+this country had ever known. While Farnley was not suspected of being
+able to produce a counterfeit note himself, there was little doubt that
+his wife, who was thoroughly infatuated with him, had found him an apt
+pupil, and that it was on these two persons that the other members of
+the gang relied for the exchange of bogus notes for good notes in a
+manner that would not subject them to suspicion.
+
+Both Farnley and his wife had been arrested in Chicago, but the man,
+who was an exceptionally powerful fellow, killed two of his guards
+with a jack-knife, and escaped. He was traced to Omaha, and thence the
+trail--a pretty well-defined one, for Farnley was a chap whose striking
+physical characteristics would attract attention anywhere--led to
+Arizona. There one of our men had overtaken the fugitive on the edge of
+a desert, and was shot, living only long enough to write and pin to his
+breast a note telling how and at whose hands he had come to his death.
+
+The man thus stricken had been an old comrade of mine, and as, a week
+later, I stood on the edge of that arid plain on which no tree or
+watercourse offered itself to view, I had a double motive in running
+down the man I sought. Not only would I be carrying out the orders of
+the department, but I would be avenging the death of my friend.
+
+I set out with a half-breed Indian. Beside the mules we rode, we had
+three pack animals which carried a light tent, forage and large skins
+filled with enough water to supply us for the next twenty hours. Our
+destination was Spirit River, a stream that runs through the heart of
+the desert, and which could be reached only by a thirty-five mile ride
+across the blistering sands. It was to that river that I now had to
+follow Farnley’s trail. The trail was fresh, for he had set out from
+this very point only a few hours before.
+
+The start was made at four o’clock in the afternoon. It was two o’clock
+when I had engaged Jim, the half-breed, for the journey. He was sober
+then, but, as he mounted now, I saw that he had been drinking--how
+heavily I did not know, but when a man has a hot desert ride before
+him, every gill of whisky in his stomach constitutes a serious
+handicap. However, it was too late to protest, and too early to excite
+the ill will of the only man who was available for the purpose for
+which this one had been employed.
+
+Owing to the intense heat that prevailed, our pace was moderate. I
+had allowed twelve hours for the journey. In order that it might be
+successful, it was essential that we arrive at Spirit River while it
+was dark, otherwise our approach over the desert scarcely could fail to
+be observed by the man whom I was planning to surprise.
+
+By eight o’clock we had covered sixteen miles of our journey, having
+proceeded at the rate of only four miles an hour. The sun had gone down
+and the air, while far from cool, was now becoming more endurable.
+I decided, therefore, to make a halt and feed and water the mules,
+giving to the animals a half an hour’s rest before calling on them for
+the increased efforts that would be required of them when our journey
+should be resumed.
+
+For the last hour, Jim, the half-breed, had been muttering
+incoherently. When I addressed him, however, he spoke rationally
+enough, and I thought that, by the time we were in our saddles again,
+the rest and decreasing heat would enable him to work off the ill
+effects of the liquor he had taken.
+
+I now directed him to picket the mules, and aid me in relieving them of
+their packs. He accomplished this task in sullen silence, but, while
+we were feeding and watering the animals, he began to address me in an
+Indian jargon which I was unable to understand. As I watched him, he
+gesticulated violently, and several times pointed in the direction of
+the unseen river.
+
+All my efforts to get the man to speak rationally were vain, so,
+with one hand on my holster, I shrugged my shoulders resignedly and
+continued to keep him under observation.
+
+At length, when the packs were replaced on the mules, and we were ready
+to mount again, I saw his hand move to his revolver. I quickly drew
+mine--aimed and pulled the trigger.
+
+The hammer fell on an empty chamber. The half-breed, with his weapon
+pointed at my breast, laughed tauntingly, but held his fire.
+
+Again I pressed my trigger, and again the hammer clicked.
+
+“One mule--you; four mule--Jim.”
+
+As the half-breed spoke, I knew that, while we had been making
+preparation for our journey, he had withdrawn the shells from my
+revolver. To offer resistance to his will now meant certain death to
+me. Crazed as he might be, he still was sufficiently master of himself
+to shoot straight, for the hand that held his weapon was as steady as a
+boulder on a valley bottom.
+
+He bade me cast off my belt and move away two hundred paces, and I did
+so. I felt no fear of death, but it was not death the Service had sent
+me out here to find; it was a man. I saw I must bide my time.
+
+True to his threat, the mongrel devil left my mule and rode off with
+the others. When he was gone, I mounted. I was unarmed now, so I saw
+that nothing could be gained by riding off after the half-breed, who,
+doubtless, had friends near. Accordingly, unarmed as I was, I turned
+the head of my mule toward the distant, unseen river, and, guided by
+the little compass which I always carry with me, I resumed my quest
+alone.
+
+I found the going easier than I had expected, and was fortunate in
+having under me one of the sturdiest animals it ever had fallen to
+my lot to ride. The moon was three-quarters full, and, though a haze
+overhung the desert, the light was fairly good. Shortly after midnight
+a faint, silvery line ahead of me gave me to understand that a few
+minutes more would find me at Spirit River.
+
+At length, I slipped from my saddle and stood on the bank of a broad,
+shallow stream that was filled with rocks around which the sluggish
+tide made scarcely a ripple. Along each bank extended a fringe of dwarf
+trees. It was to one of these trees that I hitched my mule, after I and
+the beast had drunk our fill from the river.
+
+Near the spot at which I had dismounted was a curious burrow which
+consisted of a hole scooped in the sandy bank and roofed with the trunk
+and branches of small trees over which had been spread a layer of
+stones and river mud. Near the door of this little dug-out I saw a pick
+and shovel and a prospector’s pan. But there was something more, and,
+as I looked at it, a slight feeling of creepiness stole over me.
+
+A few feet distant from the entrance to the burrow, and lying at full
+length on the ground, was the body of a man.
+
+A mere glance at the swollen face convinced me that this was not the
+fugitive I sought. It was the body of a man of middle age, and there
+was little doubt in my mind that he was the prospector who had occupied
+this rudely constructed dwelling. On his breast was pinned a piece of
+soiled paper. Removing this, I entered the hut and struck a match. Then
+I saw that on the paper were written the following words:
+
+  Dide on or bout 5 August Ime Jack Cline and my wife an kids is Mary
+  Cline, Conedale Ohio broke leg in shaf and it swel offul. Mule croked
+  las week so will I. Bury me desent if you kin. Looks like theres dust
+  hereabut but I aint struck mutch yet. So long.
+
+As I examined the body, I was convinced that the poor fellow had died
+of gangrene the day before. Picking up a shovel that was near the
+entrance to the hut, I dug a shallow grave. To this I was dragging the
+body when a sudden, rattling sound near me caused me to step quickly
+aside. I was too late, however. Before I was able to see the thing that
+threatened me, a rattlesnake had buried its fangs in the outer side of
+the calf of my left leg.
+
+I killed the reptile, then, glancing at the grave I had dug, I muttered:
+
+“Well, I suppose I’d better make it big enough for two.”
+
+With my handkerchief and a stick I made a tourniquet above the wound. I
+was tightening this when I heard a voice ask, quickly:
+
+“What are you doing there?”
+
+I turned deliberately, and I gave no start or other sign of recognition
+as I saw that he who stood near me, with a revolver in his hand, was
+the man I had gone out to the desert to take, dead or alive.
+
+“A rattler has just bitten me,” I explained, as quietly as the other
+had asked the question.
+
+“The devil!” Farnley muttered, in a sympathetic voice. “What are you
+doing for it?”
+
+“Holding off the end a little while,” I replied. “That’s all a fellow
+can do under the circumstances.”
+
+“You fool, why don’t you suck out the poison?” Farnley asked,
+impatiently, as he returned his revolver to his belt.
+
+“I can’t reach it,” I answered.
+
+“Who’s that man--the dead one?” Farnley demanded, suddenly.
+
+“My partner--Jack Cline. We were prospecting here. His mule fell in the
+desert, and he broke his leg. Gangrene got him and he’s all in now. I
+brought him here on my mule, and was burying him when I was bitten.”
+
+“You were prospecting for gold?”
+
+“Yes,” I answered.
+
+Farnley was now on his knees beside me. In a few moments he had rolled
+up the left leg of my trousers and was pressing his lips to the wound.
+
+For five minutes he worked zealously, sucking out the poison. From one
+of his pockets he took a large flask of whisky and placed it in my
+hands.
+
+“Drink it all,” he said, as he tightened the tourniquet.
+
+As I gulped down the liquor, he added, cheerfully:
+
+“You’ll be all right now, my man. Have you any coffee in your shack?”
+
+“I’ll see,” I said, and started to rise.
+
+“Stop!” he exclaimed. “I’ll go.”
+
+He found it, too, and, while he was preparing the steaming draught,
+I watched him moodily. I had been told that the fugitive I had been
+assigned to find was characterized by remarkable personal attractions,
+but, despite this information, I was astonished by the man I saw.
+Never had I gazed on human features that were so splendidly moulded
+or which expressed such a degree of intelligence and self-possession.
+Though his figure was that of a magnificently developed athlete, his
+movements were as graceful as those of a girl. Nature had endowed me
+well with strength, but, as I watched Farnley now, I knew that in a
+struggle I would be little more than a child in his hands.
+
+Never before had I been racked by so many conflicting emotions. In
+the aspect of the man was something that made me shudder. While he
+was speaking to me, a peculiar charm seemed to invest his speech and
+movements, but, as he bent over the fire that he kindled, there crept
+over his features a gloomy, sinister expression, and once he frowned
+darkly as he glanced in my direction.
+
+At the time this handsome murderer had come upon me, undoubtedly I was
+in the grip of death. Though he had given my life back to me, that life
+belonged, as it had done for twenty years, to the Service, and, as I
+sat there, I knew that when the Service once gets after a man it is
+bound to land him sooner or later. I knew, too, that this man’s crimes
+meant death to him. I might let him go now, but he would be a fugitive
+until the inevitable end when he would expiate on the gallows the death
+of my old comrade.
+
+At length, absorbed in his preparations for supper, Farnley laid
+aside the belt to which his revolver was attached. I watched it with
+fascinated eyes. Once more he went into the hut--to get forks and
+sugar. When he came out I was looking at him from over the barrel of
+his revolver.
+
+His handsome face grew as dark as a thunder cloud.
+
+“What the devil is all this?” he growled.
+
+“It means that I, Roger Canbeck, am a Secret Service officer, and that
+I hereby arrest you, William Farnley, on three charges of murder,” I
+replied.
+
+For several moments he gazed at me steadily, then he looked
+thoughtfully at the ground.
+
+“Well, what is it you want me to do?” he asked.
+
+“You must ride with me to-night across the desert.”
+
+He broke into a laugh--so light and boyish that it startled me.
+
+“No, no--not that,” he said. “It is only in his own way that Rayon
+Demain now plays the fool. The time is passed when others may direct
+him.”
+
+As he finished speaking, he leaped toward me. My finger trembled on the
+trigger, but I felt I could not press it. A moment later, a fork in
+the hand of my adversary was thrust into one of my eyes. I staggered
+back, and as he reached to seize the revolver from my grasp, I drew the
+trigger. Groping at his bosom, he slowly retreated a couple of paces,
+then, with a groan, he fell.
+
+Racked with pain, I looked down on him with the single eye that
+remained to me. I saw him as through a mist. He was lying very still,
+but, by the movements of his eyelids, I knew that the strange, warped
+soul had not yet forsaken its splendid tenement. As I gazed across the
+moonlighted desert, the revolver fell from my nerveless, trembling
+hand. The venom which those fast-whitening lips had sucked from my
+flesh was far less deadly than that which my stern sense of duty had
+injected into my soul. The honor of the service had been vindicated,
+the death of my comrade had been avenged, but I knew that from that
+hour I would be unable to wash the stain of ingratitude from the life
+which this dying man had given to me.
+
+As my gaze fell to him again, I saw he was looking at me, and was
+smiling feebly.
+
+“All things do not happen in the manner that the prophets have
+written,” he said, “and so you have come too late to keep from Rayon
+Demain the knowledge that it is better to be a sinful man than a
+proud, arrogant and unloving god. There was a time when an old man
+deceived me by causing me to believe that one day I would possess the
+attributes of divinity--I, who would never win the mastery of my own
+soul. But the love of woman I have won--that is all, and it has been
+enough. And so, you see, wisdom came to Rayon Demain at last, for, like
+the butterflies, he lived his season among Life’s flowers, and you
+shall know that when he died he had learned that even evil women are
+not devils, and that, despite old men’s teachings, there is good in
+everything.”
+
+Scarcely conscious of the action, I knelt beside him. With a little
+laugh, he held out a hand to me. Sobbing like a child, I took it.
+
+“You are sorry,” he said, speaking now with an effort. “But--it is all
+right, after all. The desert was all that was left to me; there is more
+for you, and, sometimes, when a woman’s eyes grow bright while you are
+speaking to her, think kindly of him who gave back your life beside
+that grave in which you will lay me now.”
+
+“Why did you resist me?” I whispered, hoarsely.
+
+“Because, like all other men I have ever known, you stood in my light.
+It was only by resistance that I earned my brief day of sunshine. I am
+content.”
+
+With a little sigh, he turned his head. His eyes closed, and I knew
+that all was ended--that for Rayon Demain the bright sun would rise no
+more.
+
+It was not until twilight fell again that I left the little green belt
+in the desert. I buried the two bodies side by side, but, as I set out
+on my return journey, there seemed to ride beside me one whose glorious
+eyes, black curling hair and lordly figure have haunted me from the
+hour I felt a cold hand fall from mine as I knelt on one of the dark
+banks of Spirit River.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As the one-eyed Duckhunter finished speaking, a low groan escaped the
+lips of the Hypochondriacal Painter, and the Aeronaut hid her face
+in her hands. For several moments the silence was unbroken. Then, in
+rasping accents, the Nervous Physician said, abruptly:
+
+“We will hear from the Gargoyle now, I suppose.”
+
+Westfall nodded gloomily.
+
+“Yes, my friends, if that is your pleasure,” he answered, with a sigh.
+
+The Sentimental Gargoyle lowered the hand on which he had been leaning,
+and which had concealed his eyes while the Duckhunter was speaking.
+Then, in a soft, penetrating voice he began:
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX
+
+                       THE QUEST OF THE BEAUTIFUL
+
+
+It is unfortunate that, with a physical appearance so repellent that it
+is wont to inspire dislike before others of my attributes are known,
+I should be further handicapped at the beginning of my narrative by
+the fact that every reference made to me by those whose stories have
+preceded mine has seemed to invest me with a malevolent influence.
+
+Profoundly interested as I have been in the adventures which we have
+heard described on the Barge of Haunted Lives, you readily will
+understand that it was inevitable that the story of the Hypochondriacal
+Painter should impress me most, because of its exposition of the theory
+that human features owe their contour to the quality and activity of
+the human mind. Though the Painter, dedicating all those years to its
+demonstration, appears to have been the first to attempt to endow man
+with the physical attributes of divinity, the theory long has been
+accepted as a fact by physiognomists.
+
+It does not require the discernment of a carefully trained observer to
+find in the portraits of famous men the expression of those qualities
+which made their work distinctive. How strangely like, in their
+suggestiveness of that mental power that finds expression in analysis,
+are the features of Michelangelo and Auguste Rodin! Who would look
+upon the pictures we have of Newton, William Blake and Swedenborg
+without knowing they were ever peering into the rumbling depths or
+up at the mist-enshrouded altitudes of the infinite? Who would find
+aught but the spirit of a conqueror behind the visages of Caesar,
+William of Normandy, Richard I, Peter the Great and Napoleon? In the
+faces of Scott, Byron, Tennyson, Mozart, Chopin and Beethoven how
+simple it is for us to see and identify their temperamental differences
+in the fields of poetry and music, but when we come to look upon
+those of Carlyle and Schopenhauer can we be blind to that which they
+express--that hopelessness which comes to men, who, having sunk their
+ideals in the turbid current of materialism, recognize only the follies
+and sorrows of our world?
+
+When we think upon all this, it would seem, my friends, that it is a
+law of Nature that physical and mental grace must go hand in hand,
+and, indeed, careful observation will assure us that, so far as men
+are concerned, physiognomy, in nine cases out of ten, is a fairly true
+index of character. As indicative of feminine qualities, however, it
+means little, for well we know that the fairest women often are the
+most faithless, unreasoning and immoral. And Nature, itself, is as
+changing in its moods as is a woman. Ever mocking its own masterpieces,
+it creates only that it may destroy. At times it seems to exult over
+its own contradictions. It makes jests of its own laws, which men have
+been wont to regard as immutable. Its sweetest songs come from the
+throats of the most insignificant birds. Its rainbows are the products
+of storms. Its precious stones are found embedded in hoary rocks, which
+men must blast with gunpowder in order that sunlight may reveal the
+beauty of the gems. Less often to the stately mansions of the rich than
+to the wretched hovels of the poor does genius come to breathe her fire
+into the soul of the youth who is destined to yield to men some of the
+treasured knowledge of the gods.
+
+Shakespeare has said “Sweet are the uses of adversity, which, like a
+toad, ugly and venomous, hath yet a precious jewel in its head.” And,
+my friends, though Nature, in a mischievous mood, did fashion me in a
+mould that made me scarcely less repulsive than adversity or a toad,
+it gave to me such a jewel as that of which Shakespeare spoke. It is
+because of my possession of this, as you shall see, that the world has
+seemed very fair to me, and my life well worth the living.
+
+Despite the fact that my grotesque face has caused me to be regarded
+as a monstrosity, my father and mother were noted for their physical
+graces. Why I should have come into the world with such a terrible
+visage not even men of science have been able to understand. But, from
+the moment of my birth, in a small city in France, my mother, fond as
+she was of her other children, found the sight of me so hateful that
+she scarcely could be brought to look upon me.
+
+Before I was a year old I was committed to the care of a peasant and
+his wife, who lived many miles from the chateau in which I was born. I
+remained there for the first eight years of my life, then I was sent
+to a school near Tours. There the ridicule to which I was subjected by
+reason of my grotesque appearance became so unbearable that I fled.
+I soon was overtaken, however, and my parents caused a tutor and his
+wife to be installed in a cottage that was situated in the heart of an
+old French forest. There I remained until I was twenty years of age.
+Then, for the first time in many years, I saw my father. He stayed
+with me only a few minutes, during which time my future was discussed.
+My father told me that if I would consent to assume the name of Leon
+Grenault, and never reveal my relationship with my family, I would
+receive an income of ten thousand dollars a year. I accepted the
+condition, and, bidding farewell to my kind old tutor and his wife, I
+set out for Italy. Since then I have been an indefatigable traveller,
+but not until recently did I make my first visit to the United States.
+
+I have said that, in fashioning me so unkindly, Nature gave to me
+something that was akin to the mythical jewel in the head of the
+repulsive toad. It is a sense of beauty. Since my early childhood
+I have been an inordinate lover of all that is beautiful. With me
+the search for the most beautiful faces, landscapes, flowers, gems,
+porcelains, pictures and poems has constituted the dominant purpose
+of my life. I will not pause to tell you to what absurd lengths my
+searches often took me, and what insupportable burdens of ridicule they
+have laid on my shoulders. There was nothing that was beautiful that
+did not charm me. There were many beautiful things for which I gladly
+would have sacrificed my life, merely to look upon.
+
+With features so forbidding that all human beings shrink from me
+instinctively, I move among things of earth as the fallen angel moved
+among the shades of Paradise. The angel knew the reason of his fall,
+but what heinous sin I committed in some former period of existence,
+and for which I should be punished so cruelly, I know not. The sight
+of human happiness thrills me with sympathetic pleasure, while the
+suffering and sorrows of others drive me, sometimes, almost to madness,
+and I shrink from them as did Mephistopheles from the upraised cross.
+Incapable of inspiring affection in the breast of man, woman or child,
+it has seemed to me that I have craved love more than any creature of
+the earth. Only in my dreams does love come to me--from my mother,
+from laughing children and--another. When I wake it is to seek things
+that are beautiful.
+
+And it was in this quest for the beautiful that I found myself one day
+in Constantinople. It matters not to others what particular object it
+was that led me there, but, one day, while I was sitting in my room
+in a hotel, I was informed that Glyncamp, an American mind-reader, had
+called to see me. As no man or woman ever before had expressed a desire
+to see me privately on other than business matters my surprise took the
+form of curiosity. Accordingly, I sent word to Glyncamp that I would
+see him.
+
+My visitor greeted me cordially as he entered the room, and, frankly
+and without embarassment, he told me that, having observed me as I was
+passing along a street, he had been so impressed by my strange physical
+appearance that he desired to learn something of my mental qualities.
+I took the explanation in good part, and from that hour the remarkable
+American and I were friends. His vast store of learning filled me with
+even more wonder than did that mysterious power which enabled him to
+read the thoughts of human minds.
+
+One day, while we were chatting together, Glyncamp asked me what was
+the dominant purpose of my life. I replied:
+
+“When I have seen the most handsome man, the most beautiful woman and
+the most wonderful gem that the earth now holds, I shall die content.”
+
+Glyncamp laughed quietly.
+
+“In that case you may prepare to die within the next two years, for I
+think I shall then be in a position to show all these to you,” he said.
+
+I looked at him incredulously.
+
+“You have seen them?” I asked wondering.
+
+“I have seen the woman,” he replied, “and I know where, hidden in a
+wonderful valley, the man may be found--a man so handsome that he is
+said to believe himself a god. But the gem of which I speak, I have not
+seen. It soon will be mine, however.”
+
+“How did you come by this knowledge?” I asked.
+
+The American looked at me sharply.
+
+“That, my friend, is my affair,” he answered, curtly.
+
+Perceiving that I had been indiscreet, I apologized for the rudeness of
+my question. It pleased him to make light of the matter, however; then,
+suddenly, a look of gravity overspread his features.
+
+“Would you take a journey to see this wonderful man?” he asked.
+
+“I would travel around the world to see such a man,” I replied
+enthusiastically.
+
+“You would go to the United States.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And report to me concerning what you saw?”
+
+“Yes, yes.”
+
+He told me, then, that once, while he was testing his skill on an old
+painter, who had ridiculed his pretensions, he had learned his secret.
+
+“Follow Nathan Bonfield when he goes into a great range of mountains,
+and he will lead you to the place where he guards his secret so
+jealously,” Glyncamp explained. “But in no circumstances must Bonfield
+know that he is followed. If he were to discover you, it is more than
+probable that you would meet with a serious misadventure. Take with you
+a camera, and if you return to me with photographs of this remarkable
+young man, I will give to you the opportunity of seeing the most
+beautiful young woman who is on our earth to-day.”
+
+I accepted the conditions, and two days later I was on my way to the
+United States. Greatly to my surprise, Glyncamp offered to pay the
+expenses of my journey in the event of my proving successful in my
+quest.
+
+Upon arriving in the United States, I had considerable difficulty
+in locating the strange old artist, but, at last, I succeeded in
+discovering his haunts. Then I found the house in which he had his
+room. At length came a day when, having followed him, as I had done on
+several former occasions, I saw him enter the Grand Central Station. He
+was about to travel without luggage. So would I.
+
+I boarded the train without a ticket, for, as yet, I had not the
+slightest idea what my destination was to be. I took a seat behind the
+car which Bonfield had entered, and it was while I was looking out of
+the window to assure myself that the painter was not leaving the car
+that I beheld, for the first time, the young woman whose beauty was
+destined to have such an important influence on my life. She, too,
+boarded the train--she and her escort entering the second car ahead of
+me.
+
+I was now confronted by the greatest dilemma I ever had faced in my
+life. Should I follow the painter or the young woman?
+
+I decided to follow the woman.
+
+In the course of that long journey to the mountains I saw the young
+woman four times. Twice she and her escort left the train and took
+another. I, unobserved, did likewise, and on each occasion I was amazed
+to find that the painter made similar changes.
+
+At last the young woman and the man who was with her alighted at a way
+station. I saw that buckboards were in waiting to take them and their
+luggage away, and, satisfied that I would have little difficulty in
+tracing them in the event of my return in the course of twenty-four
+hours, I remained on the train to follow the painter. At the next
+station he, too, alighted. Here no vehicle of any description was in
+waiting, and from Bonfield’s actions it soon became apparent that he
+expected none. Still wearing the same garments in which he had left
+New York, he entered the wilderness with all the assurance of a sturdy
+mountaineer. Once I saw him halt to fashion a stout stick into a staff,
+then, with this in his hands, he continued on his way.
+
+Hour after hour I followed him, passing through one valley after
+another. Twice or thrice he turned to look behind him, but I kept
+myself concealed from his view.
+
+At last, however, more than an hour after the evening shadows began to
+fall, we entered that strange mountain fastness that has been described
+to you--Deadwood Valley--and I knew by the action of the old painter
+that our journey was well-nigh done. Removing his hat, he wiped his
+forehead, then, placing his fingers to his mouth, he emitted a series
+of long, shrill whistles. These evoked from the other end of the valley
+sounds which were so similar that I fancied at first that they were
+only echoes of those I had heard before. The old man now resumed his
+journey with quickened steps. As I made my way along the narrow path
+and among the thick brush, I started as, moving around a great boulder
+that lay at the foot of the mountainside, I found myself within thirty
+paces of him. He was standing still, and it was apparent that he had
+decided to await there the coming of the man who had answered his
+signals. Moving stealthily nearer, I crouched down among the stones.
+
+I had not long to wait, for scarcely five minutes passed before I heard
+the sounds of low voices, the swishing of branches and the snapping of
+twigs. Then, overcome by wonder and delight, I half rose and was about
+to utter an expression of admiration when I realized my danger and
+restrained my emotions.
+
+The mysterious young man whom I had come so many thousand miles to see
+was before me. Glyncamp was right. There could not have been a more
+splendid type of manhood in all the world!
+
+If I had expected to see any demonstration of affection between this
+remarkable young man and the patriarch who had made this long journey
+to see him, I was disappointed. The painter saluted the younger man
+with marked respect. The intelligent features of the newcomer lightened
+for a moment, but neither by a bow nor the offer of a hand did he bid
+the graybeard welcome.
+
+“I had not expected you so soon, Nathan,” was all he said.
+
+Then, as the two walked off together, I saw that an Indian was
+following them. At last they came to the door of a cavern through which
+they passed from my view.
+
+Such, then, was my first view of Rayon Demain.
+
+Having carefully noted the entrance to the cavern, and taken a view of
+the valley in order that I might carry certain landmarks in my mind, I
+set out again for the railroad. I was in no danger of losing my way,
+for it lay along a watercourse for a considerable distance, and, while
+I had been following the painter, I carefully noted in a memoranda book
+the position of landmarks that would serve for my future guidance.
+
+By this time night had closed in on the wilderness, and, after going
+a little way, I lost the narrow path. I spent several minutes seeking
+it and, when I found it, I decided to wait until moonrise before
+proceeding further.
+
+But by the time the moon rose I altered my purpose. Though I came
+to the mountains without luggage, I had with me a pocket camera. I
+now decided that I would spend the following day in this valley and
+accomplish the purpose that had led me thither, before I undertook the
+task of finding the beautiful young woman I had seen on the train.
+I reflected that people do not make long journeys to mountainous
+districts to remain for only a few days, and there was little doubt
+that I would be as well able to trace the young woman two days hence as
+I would be to-morrow.
+
+Accordingly, when the light of the moon streamed into the valley, I
+approached the cavern cautiously, then passed it and made my way along
+the shore of the lake to where the waters narrowed.
+
+Heaven guided my steps that night, for, fatigued as I was, I walked on
+and on, vainly seeking something that would afford me shelter. And so,
+at last, I came to another valley.
+
+Ah, how can I describe the sensations that overcame me as I beheld that
+vast moonlighted Paradise? But one who was quite as appreciative as I,
+and far more eloquent, has pictured its glories to you, so I will not
+weary you with my impressions. The names of these two valleys were, of
+course, unknown to me, so I called one the Valley of the Perfect Man,
+and the other the Valley of the Garden.
+
+For nearly an hour, as I gazed upon the magnificent prospect that lay
+before me, I forgot my fatigue, and the very thought of sleep in the
+presence of so much beauty seemed impious. On and on I walked along the
+shore, now and then crossing, on stepping stones, little brooks whose
+murmurs seemed to be hymned eulogies of the loveliness around me.
+
+At length, however, I stopped abruptly. Stealing softly to me through
+the forest-odored air came the sweet notes of one of Chopin’s
+nocturnes. For two or three minutes they held me spellbound, then all
+was still. My heart was beating wildly. Had I been dreaming? Had the
+notes I heard been the sighing of the nightwinds and the singing of the
+brooks that had echoed in the composer’s fancy in the hour in which he
+had committed to paper that sweet, spirit-haunting air?
+
+But, as I strode quickly onward, I knew that my senses had not deceived
+me. Before me rose the dark, shadowy outlines of a house that was
+constructed of roughly hewn forest logs. Glints of lamplight around
+the lowered shades indicated that within those walls were persons,
+happier than I, who had been watching the musician while the notes were
+stealing from the piano to where I stood listening in the forest.
+
+For several minutes I halted and looked around me. I saw a stable and
+other outbuildings in the clearing, and, faintly outlined on the lake
+shore, were several small boats. Then, retreating into the woodland
+shadows, I listened expectantly. But from the house there came no
+sound. At last the glints of lights disappeared from the windows, and I
+knew that the occupants of the house had retired for the night.
+
+In the forest fringe, just beyond the clearing, was a large,
+three-walled shed in which were standing several pieces of farm
+machinery and a covered wagon. On the seat of the wagon was a folded
+blanket. Here was the shelter I sought.
+
+The open front of the shed faced the lake, and, having unfolded the
+blanket, I was preparing to wrap it around me and lie down on the
+bottom of the wagon, when I turned for a last look at the beautiful
+moonlit waters.
+
+Once more I was on the point of turning away from the enchanting scene
+when something moving on the lake caught my eye. Then I saw it was
+a canoe which was slowly approaching the beach. Crouching low in the
+wagon, I watched the little craft curiously. I saw it held only one
+person.
+
+As the bow of the canoe touched the shore, its occupant leaped out and
+drew the boat up on the beach. This done, he stole noiselessly toward
+the house.
+
+It was the Indian I had seen in the Valley of the Perfect Man!
+
+Moving stealthily toward the darkened log-house, he tried the door. I
+saw him retreat from this, and then disappear in the shadow. Two or
+three minutes passed before he reappeared. Now he strode quickly to
+where he had left his canoe on the beach. Thrusting this back into the
+water, he leaped lightly aboard and seized his paddle. A few moments
+later boat and boatman had disappeared in the shadow cast over the
+water by a thick cluster of trees. So noiseless and stealthy had been
+his movements that, at times, one might have fancied that he was
+nothing more than the shadow of some great bird flying overhead.
+
+This mysterious visit excited within me a feeling of uneasiness, and I
+watched for nearly half an hour longer, then, yielding at last to the
+fatigue of the day, I folded the blanket around me, and, lying down on
+the wagon floor, I slept.
+
+I was awake at dawn, and, fearing discovery, I carefully refolded the
+blanket, and, after returning it to the seat on which I had found
+it, I left the shed. A healthy appetite was now beginning to assert
+itself, but curiosity still held me to the place. I was resolved to see
+something of the occupants of the log-house before I turned my back
+upon it, for I knew that it was no ordinary musician whose hands had
+swept those piano keys while the notes of that wonderful nocturne were
+floating out to mingle with the forest airs. The thought had come to
+me that, perhaps, here I would find the woman I sought. Accordingly, I
+took my station in a leafy covert and waited.
+
+My patience was at length rewarded. Something white appeared suddenly
+between the curtains of an open window. My blood leaped exultantly in
+my veins, and my eyes were almost dazzled by the fairest sight they
+ever had looked upon.
+
+Before me, clad in the snowy, lace-trimmed gown that she had worn
+during the night, was the young woman whose beauty had enchanted me on
+the day before. The darkness of the night still lingered in the great,
+luxuriant mass of flowing hair, but on her face and in her eyes were
+reflected all the glowing splendors of the dawn. And, as I watched her,
+the house in which she stood assumed the aspect of a shrine around
+which sweet odors, whispering winds and the feathered singers of the
+forest were paying homage to their divinity.
+
+Was Glyncamp wrong when he told me that he had seen the most beautiful
+woman in the world? Or was it possible that he indeed had seen the
+woman on whom I was gazing now?
+
+For two or three minutes the fair creature stood at the window, looking
+at forest, lake and turquoise sky. Then she disappeared, and I,
+overwhelmed and intoxicated by her wondrous beauty, rose, turned and
+went staggering like a drunkard through the forest.
+
+This, then, was the beginning of that love which so suddenly came to me
+and lighted all the candles in the gloomy hall of my life. Before, like
+a prisoner in a cell, I had been groping at each beautiful ray that had
+filtered in through my barred windows, but now--now I was blinded by
+an effulgence that was more dazzling than the noonday sun.
+
+On and on I strode until I came to a mountain trail, which, it was
+plain, led from the log-house in the Valley of the Garden. I had
+no thought of hunger now, and I travelled quickly, only pausing
+occasionally to drink at some laughing mountain brook. Leaving the
+log-house further and further behind me, I did not doubt that the trail
+I was following would bring me at last to the station at which I had
+seen the young woman and her escort alight from the train the preceding
+day.
+
+My surmise proved to be correct, but, as I drew near the little village
+in which the station was situated, I hesitated. My face always had
+inspired fear and distrust among country people, and I asked myself
+whether it was wise for me to show myself at a place to which occupants
+of the log-house must come for their supplies. I did not want it known
+that there was a man of my appearance in the neighborhood, for, in
+such circumstances, all my movements would be carefully watched, and,
+without doubt, false stories concerning me would be circulated by
+superstitious persons who would suspect that I was none other than the
+devil himself.
+
+I remembered that the next mountain hamlet was about ten miles further
+down the railway line, so, skirting the little village, I directed my
+steps to the station below.
+
+Arriving at last at my destination, I disregarded the expressions of
+horror on the faces of the persons I met, and, after enjoying a hearty
+meal, I purchased a couple of mules, a kit of tools, firearms, fishing
+tackle, a compass and enough provisions to last me for a week. These
+purchases I made into stout packs and placed on the mules, then, with
+a dull-looking Swedish boy who, for a generous sum, found it possible
+to forgive the physical abnormalities of his new master, I followed a
+trail which, for a considerable distance, ran parallel with the railway.
+
+By nightfall I had found a site for my camp--in the wilderness about a
+mile north of the log-house, and a half a mile from the path that led
+from the Valley of the Perfect Man to the Valley of the Garden.
+
+Carl, my boy, soon learned that I was not nearly so bad as Nature had
+painted me, and, after that difficulty was overcome, it was not long
+before I felt that I had his confidence.
+
+A shack soon was constructed, but the first night the boy occupied it
+alone. Directing my steps again to the log-house, I took a station in
+the covert from which I had observed the beautiful stranger in the
+morning.
+
+The action of the Indian on the night before had excited my distrust,
+and now that I knew whose safety might be menaced by anyone who had
+evil designs on the house or its occupants, I resolved to watch the
+place while it was otherwise unguarded.
+
+The night passed without adventure, but, when morning dawned, I saw the
+young woman appear again at the window as I had seen her before. Now,
+however, I remained in my place of concealment, and later I saw her,
+clad in a dainty morning dress, step out into the clearing. I watched
+her while one of the menservants taught her how to handle the paddle of
+a canoe. In the afternoon I followed her as she walked along the beach
+or through the leafy aisles of the forest. But the man who had come
+with her to the mountains I did not see, and I wondered whether he was
+her brother or her husband.
+
+Once I heard an elderly woman call to her--addressing her as “Paula.”
+The servants addressed her as “Miss.” But why should I, who was so
+afflicted with the most hideous human features in all the world, exult
+to find that she still was unwed?
+
+Night after night I kept vigil near the log-house, and once, waxing
+bold, I pinned some verses to one of her windows. Ah, how can I
+describe the sensations that overwhelmed me when I saw her take them
+from the envelope--when a rush of color came to her face, and a bright,
+wondering light slowly kindled in her eyes. Then, as I watched her
+closely, I saw she was not offended, and I wondered who it was she
+thought had written the lines.
+
+I saw her leave the house a little more than an hour afterward, and
+enter her canoe, and my gaze followed her as, in the gleaming little
+craft, she glided over the waters of the lake. But when the canoe was
+headed for the northern shore my heart grew cold. Did she suspect the
+mystery that lurked amid the awe-inspiring shades of the Valley of the
+Perfect Man?
+
+Then, with a rapidly beating heart, I ran along the shore, and, as I
+ran, I saw the canoe enter the stream that flowed through the mountain
+pass.
+
+Before I succeeded in getting to this stream the storm broke. Strong as
+I am physically, the vigor of this baffled me. Blinded by lightning,
+battered by rain, deafened by thunder, and blocked by brooks, which,
+overflowing their banks, had become fiercely whirling torrents, my
+strength was spent at last, and I sought refuge between two rocks under
+a widespreading tree.
+
+When the storm subsided, I saw two men leave the log-house and put out
+in a boat. That these were menservants starting in search for the young
+woman was plain. The water was still too rough for the task they had
+undertaken, however, and before the boat was a hundred yards from the
+shore it was overturned. The men succeeded in swimming ashore.
+
+I now continued on my way to the upper valley, and, in time, I arrived
+at the mountain pass. There I beheld the object of my search, but,
+loth to see her recoil from me, I did not reveal myself to her eyes. I
+resolved to watch her until the men from the log-house should succeed
+in getting to her.
+
+At length, when twilight fell, I saw her move forward. Then, in the
+most wonderful voice I had ever heard, she sang to a beautiful air the
+words of the verses I had pinned to her window curtain in the morning,
+and I knew that it was to me--the unknown writer--that she sang.
+
+And now, for the first time, the idea came to me that perhaps,
+after all, I might devise some means of making this wonderful woman
+mine--that we might love in spirit, as the angels love. I knew,
+however, that this would be impossible if she were to see me.
+
+Scarcely had this thought taken form in my mind when I observed that
+the mysterious young man of the upper valley had approached and was
+watching the singer.
+
+All of the strange words and scenes which followed were heard and
+witnessed by me. When the young woman was again alone, I spoke to her,
+and, unseen, I took her across the lake in the manner she has related.
+
+The next day I left the valley behind me and secured the services of
+a clergyman who lived in a distant town. In the night shadows of the
+wilderness, Paula Trevison became my wife.
+
+I was resolved that, from that moment, only in spirit should we meet. I
+would write to her and talk with her at times when she would be unable
+to see me. Taking advantage of her Eastern superstitions, I would make
+her believe that I was a spirit bridegroom.
+
+Thus far all had gone well, but, in less than five minutes after the
+conclusion of the ceremony, my dream fabric began to totter. My
+boy had just set off on muleback with the clergyman, when, from the
+direction of the log-house came the sounds of firearms. My heart seemed
+to leap to my throat, and a great fear held me spellbound. Then, from
+the brushwood rushed the figure of a man. For only a moment did I see
+his face in the moonlight.
+
+It was Rayon Demain!
+
+I hurried after him, and thus came to the log-house.
+
+Many of the incidents that followed already have been described to you.
+Rayon acted like a frenzied demon. I dragged from the burning log-house
+the woman he had hurled into it, and I smote him down when he attacked
+the young woman who was now my wife. But those whom I served shrank
+from me appalled. Among them I had no friend. Then Rayon and I met for
+a second time. We grappled and fought--Hyperion with a satyr, and the
+satyr once more triumphed. Rayon again lay at my feet. I could have
+killed him then, but who was I that I should reduce to senseless dust
+that masterpiece of nature?
+
+While I hesitated, Rayon rose suddenly to one of his elbows. Then he
+levelled a revolver at me, and fired. The ball entered my chest, and I
+fell.
+
+I did not lose consciousness, but a great numbness overspread my body
+and I felt half-dazed. I forgot what had happened, and, rising, I went
+stumbling through the forest. Instinct led me to the shack. Two days
+before, I had caused my boy to purchase a third mule, for one of the
+others had gone lame. I mounted the lame one now, and rode along the
+trail to the railway. There I boarded the way car of a freight train,
+and fell unconscious on the floor.
+
+When my senses returned to me I was in a comfortably furnished
+bungalow which, I soon learned, was the Summer home of a New York
+physician--thirty miles distant from Deadwood Valley. I told my host I
+had been shot accidentally by a friend who doubtless had mistaken me
+for a deer.
+
+Three weeks later I was in New York. There, after many unsuccessful
+efforts, I learned that Miss Trevison had gone to Europe.
+
+In her confession to me on the lake, Paula had told me of her
+relationship with Prince Maranotti, and, believing that she had gone
+to him, I set out for Italy. There, of course, I failed to find her. I
+tried to get into communication with Glyncamp, but he had mysteriously
+disappeared.
+
+For several months, amid the most harrowing disappointments, I
+continued my search, then I learned that in New York Miss Paula
+Trevison had become the wife of Philip Wadsworth. This information so
+affected me that I nearly lost my reason. Three or four times I was
+almost on the point of taking my life. How she had come to wed again
+while the man she believed to be her husband still was living, I could
+not understand. And yet, believing herself to be the wife of Rayon
+Demain, it was possible that, overcome with horror and loathing as the
+result of his mad acts on the night of the burning of the log-house,
+she had sought and obtained a divorce.
+
+I now resolved to seek the young woman out and confess to her the
+manner in which I had deceived her. Accordingly, I went to New York and
+there learned she had parted from Wadsworth scarcely more than an hour
+after the wedding ceremony. Having obtained her address, I wrote to
+her, asking her to see me on the following day. In this letter I told
+her I had something of importance to reveal. Not only did she fail to
+answer my letter, but she disappeared the day after she received it,
+and I learned she had gone to Europe. Once more I went to Italy.
+
+I found Prince Maranotti at Basselanto, and informed him that his
+sister had become my wife. Not for a moment, however, did he believe
+I was speaking the truth, and he treated me as if I were a harmless
+lunatic. I called on him several times after this, but he refused to
+see me.
+
+At dawn one morning I hid myself in the garden, thinking to meet him
+when he took his accustomed stroll before breakfast. The effort was
+successful, but he warned me that if I did not leave the grounds at
+once he would have me committed to an asylum. I knew he would keep his
+word, but, angered as I was, I was not disposed to offer violence to
+Paula’s brother. So, with bowed head, I hurried to the railway station.
+
+Convinced that my wife was not in Italy, I decided to return to New
+York. The following day I boarded a steamer at Naples, and it was
+not until I reached the United States that I learned of the death of
+Paula’s brother on the morning I had left him.
+
+Two days ago I was visited by a stranger, who informed me that Mr.
+Westfall was in possession of certain facts that it would be in my
+interest to know. Accordingly I called upon him and received the
+invitation which has resulted in my presence on the Barge of Haunted
+Lives.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+“And so the Princess is the wife of the Gargoyle, after all,” hissed
+the Whispering Gentleman, as he turned toward Westfall.
+
+“No, no, it is impossible!” exclaimed the Fugitive Bridegroom,
+distractedly.
+
+“If she isn’t, it’s not you, who deserted her, but the man who went
+through fire and water to get the Rajiid diamonds for her, who ought
+to have her,” growled the one-eyed Duckhunter.
+
+“The law will quickly relieve her of her present desperate plight,”
+said the Nervous Physician, complacently. “The law will not compel a
+woman to accept as her husband the man who killed her brother.”
+
+“Killed her brother!” exclaimed the Decapitated Man, wonderingly.
+
+The Nervous Physician nodded, then, giving a sudden start, he glanced
+apprehensively over his left shoulder.
+
+“You knew you were under suspicion, did you not?” asked Westfall,
+addressing the Sentimental Gargoyle.
+
+“Under suspicion--yes,” the Gargoyle answered. “It is suspicion that is
+founded on the fact that I was in the park of Basselanto on the morning
+of the murder of Prince Maranotti. That I was there at that time, I
+never have denied, but of his death I am guiltless, nor did I know at
+the time I left the park that any crime had been committed there. More
+than this, I know nothing of the identity of the murderer or of any
+motive for the awful deed.”
+
+“Well, if a gentleman who was able to give exceedingly damaging
+testimony against you had lived to tell his story, you would not now be
+here to assert your preposterous claim to this fair lady’s hand,” said
+the Nervous Physician, irritably.
+
+The Gargoyle stiffened in his chair.
+
+“Who was the gentleman of whom you speak, sir?” he demanded, sharply.
+
+“Perhaps it is well that you tell your story now, Doctor,” said
+Westfall, gravely.
+
+The Nervous Physician nodded. Then, in quick, nervous accents, he began
+his narrative.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X
+
+                         AT THE END OF A TRAIL
+
+
+Had there been occasion to mention my name in the course of the
+narratives that have preceded mine, I doubt not that most of you would
+have recognized the fact that in this company is one who has attained
+distinction in one of the most important branches of the medical
+profession. In short, my fame as a specialist in nervous diseases is
+international. I am the author of works that are recognized as standard
+authorities, and medals of honor have been bestowed upon me by several
+of the most highly esteemed learned societies of the world.
+
+In the course of my investigation of nervous diseases I have acquired
+many extraordinary specimens of abnormal nervous organisms, and I may
+say that this collection has constituted the principal hobby of my
+life. In my museum are the brains of celebrated men and women, fibres
+from the fingers of celebrated musicians, vocal cords of famous singers
+and nerves taken from persons who were afflicted with extraordinary
+forms of nervous diseases.
+
+In my efforts to add to this wonderful collection I have spared no
+time, trouble or expense. Even my conscience, occasionally, has been
+gagged and bound in the interest of science, which has been my god, my
+law, my wife, my daughter--everything.
+
+Aware of this, it now will be easy for you to understand that when the
+extraordinary mind-reading feats of Mr. Glyncamp were reported to me, I
+should feel the most lively curiosity concerning his wonderful nerve
+development. Indeed, I became so inordinately curious when I learned
+of such strange powers that I determined to seek out the man, win his
+friendship and, eventually, obtain his wonderful nerves for my museum.
+All this I would do, be it remembered, strictly in the interest of
+science.
+
+Well, being distinctively a man of action, I did not long delay in
+putting my project into execution. I caused myself to be introduced to
+Glyncamp, and, as he was really a very approachable sort of a person,
+I soon enjoyed all the privileges of his friendship. Of two things,
+however, I was scrupulously careful. I said nothing to him concerning
+my collection, nor did I ever, on any occasion, permit him to touch my
+ungloved hands, or to lay a hand on my head. While in his presence I
+was careful to restrain my thoughts if they showed any disposition to
+wander to the real foundation of this strange friendship.
+
+And Glyncamp trusted me. He was a man who had attained to the most
+extraordinary degree of intelligence I had ever known. But, in certain
+matters, he was unsophisticated. Though he was often most unscrupulous
+himself, he placed too much reliance on the good intentions of others.
+His cruelty was oftentimes amazing when he found it in his interest
+to inflict pain, but I never have known a man who could be angered so
+easily when someone else became a minister of cruelty.
+
+Nearly all his life Glyncamp lived in the shadow of a great horror.
+Whether this was the price he had to pay for his possession of his
+wonderful mind-reading powers, he did not know, but he suspected this
+was the case.
+
+He was subject to attacks of catalepsy. These attacks were sometimes
+so severe and prolonged that for several days at a time even a trained
+eye might seek in vain for some evidence of life. He feared that, while
+he was under the influence of one of these terrible attacks, persons
+who did not know of his infirmity would cause him to be buried alive--a
+most horrible fate, my friends, and one which all of us carefully
+should guard against, for the means of doing this are very simple.
+
+In order to reduce the possibility of such a terrible result, Glyncamp
+always carried in one of his pockets a letter explaining his weakness,
+and directing that under no circumstances should he be placed in a tomb
+until certain absolutely unmistakable evidences of death should become
+apparent to all who viewed his body. In addition to this letter, he
+always had pinned to his undershirt a piece of parchment on which a
+similar injunction was written with India ink.
+
+Now so profoundly interested did I become in this strange case of Mr.
+Glyncamp that, pretending to be wearied of my practice, I told him
+I was preparing to go with him when he returned to Europe. Glyncamp
+was delighted. He told me that so long as I was with him he would
+breathe more freely, knowing that the terrible fate he dreaded would be
+impossible.
+
+His fame in Europe was already established, and he now went to Turkey
+where he was paid a great sum each month for the detection of plans
+that had for their object the death of the Sultan.
+
+It was not long before this strange man honored me with his full
+confidence, and this resulted in my learning some of the most
+remarkable things that ever had been brought to my knowledge. More than
+this, the revelations showed that my friend was a sort of knight-errant
+in a wonderful realm that is peopled only by lofty intellects. He was
+an idealist, who, having little interest in materialistic things, was
+constantly concerning himself with extraordinary psychic conditions.
+Nothing that was normal appealed to him. It was in abnormalities that
+he sought that divine substance which Nature had engrafted in them
+unawares. In short, the man who was stealing the thoughts of others was
+always attempting to find even Nature off her guard.
+
+It was while he was in Turkey that a Hindu came under his hands. By
+his subtle art, Glyncamp learned that the Hindu was a spy who had been
+instructed by the Rajah of Nauwar to watch an Englishman named Lord
+Galonfield, who was supposed to have in his possession the diamond eyes
+of the Rajiid Buddha--the most wonderful pair of diamonds ever known to
+man.
+
+Glyncamp promptly lost all interest in his Turkish employment, and,
+masquerading as a European who had been converted to Buddhism, he went
+to the court of the Rajah of Nauwar. There he learned the story of the
+Rajiid stones.
+
+I do not believe that Glyncamp cared any more for those diamonds
+than if they had been the commonest kind of moss agates. The triumph
+incident to getting them was all he sought, but he laid his plans
+with marvelous care, and when he left India he knew how the diamonds
+had been taken from the Buddha during the Indian Mutiny, and who was
+suspected of having taken them. He knew, too, how the uncle of the then
+living Earl of Galonfield had been captured and tortured and how his
+effort to commit suicide had been frustrated in order that he might be
+compelled to write a hundred letters, dated years ahead, to his father
+and brother, urging them to restore the diamonds to their proper owner.
+
+But what had become of the stones he had not learned. The acquisition
+of this knowledge was to be his triumph. That the secret of their
+hiding-place was in the possession of the Galonfield family was more
+than probable. Accordingly, he went to England.
+
+Glyncamp was on the point of wringing the secret from the dying Earl,
+when the son appeared. The Earl died, and Glyncamp fled, but, within a
+few hours, he had formulated a new plan.
+
+The new Earl of Galonfield was young and unmarried. Glyncamp did
+not doubt that he was more or less susceptible to female charms. He
+would cause him to wed a woman through whom Glyncamp might obtain the
+diamonds.
+
+In Turkey Glyncamp had learned that among all the beautiful women who
+were seen each week in the magnificent bathing rooms for women in
+Constantinople, there was none who could compare with Pauline, the
+daughter of Meschid Pasha, a well-known army officer. Like all sons and
+daughters of the Orient, Meschid Pasha was a great lover of precious
+stones and was known to have several noted gems in his collection.
+
+Accordingly, Glyncamp visited Meschid Pasha and, formally proposing for
+the hand of his daughter, he offered in exchange the diamonds known as
+the “Lost Eyes of the Rajiid Buddha.” Meschid accepted the proposal.
+Then Glyncamp told him how the diamonds might be obtained through
+Pauline herself. Meschid gave his assent to the plan and forthwith
+started for England with Pauline. Glyncamp, who, in the meantime, had
+employed spies to watch young Lord Galonfield’s movements, accompanied
+the Pasha and his daughter.
+
+I met Glyncamp on his arrival in England and when he told me what he
+had done, I gazed at him in astonishment.
+
+“Do you so love the woman that you would give the diamonds for her?” I
+asked.
+
+He laughed heartily.
+
+“Why, no,” he said. “She is certainly the most beautiful woman in the
+world, but I have no idea of really marrying her. Through her I shall
+get the diamonds--from Meschid. The man who is so base as to sell a
+woman well deserves the punishment I shall inflict on Meschid Pasha!”
+
+“But the woman!” I persisted. “What is to become of her?”
+
+“She will scarcely mourn my loss, for it is my purpose to unite her in
+marriage with the handsomest man in the world. The diamonds shall be
+her dowry, on condition that I be godfather at the first christening in
+the family.”
+
+My eyes were wide with wonder and incredulity. Glyncamp, watching my
+face, laughed heartily.
+
+“Come, come, Doctor, you are not a fool,” he said reprovingly. “What
+use would I, who care nothing for such baubles, have for such stones
+as these? I am a victim of chronic wanderlust. Where would I keep
+them? Why should I keep them? My friends have only a passing interest
+in crystallized vanities, so they would scarcely thank me for the
+display of the stones from time to time. And as for the woman--well.
+She is pretty, no doubt--but foolish, as all women are. My pipe and my
+glass--and you--would not be the sort of after dinner company which
+would appeal to her, I’m afraid. And then, perhaps, some likely young
+physician might have little difficulty in convincing her that my
+first--or, at most, my second cataleptic attack was death itself. No,
+no, it would not do! The pleasure of winning the handsomest woman in
+the world and the finest pair of diamonds constitutes all the reward I
+desire. The Sultan of Turkey has been paying me too much for my poor
+services, and my fortune, to which there are no heirs, is becoming
+quite unmanagable. The detectives I am employing need it more than I.
+No, no, my boy, the excitement of the chase is all I require. The fox
+and his brush can go to the dogs.”
+
+I shook my head doubtfully, as Glyncamp, chuckling, went to Meschid’s
+to don his Turkish duenna’s frock and veil and oversee Lord
+Galonfield’s vain wooing of the fair woman who had enchanted him.
+
+But it was not long before the smile left Glyncamp’s features. His face
+grew longer and more grim. He had found in young Galonfield a foeman
+worthy of his steel. He also learned that the spies of the Rajah of
+Nauwar were swarming as thick as flies around the Earl.
+
+And now the old lion began to fight. He felt that his wonderful skill
+had been challenged and that his own self-respect was at stake. I began
+to see less of him.
+
+Suddenly, Glyncamp learned that Galonfield had disappeared. He traced
+him to Hetley, and there found that a grave had been opened--the grave
+of a young officer whose body had been sent to England during the
+Indian Mutiny.
+
+The mind-reader scowled darkly as he muttered:
+
+“I wonder if we will find the other one in a tomb.”
+
+Glyncamp kept his own counsel pretty well, after that, but, several
+weeks later, he startled me by asking how I would like to go with him
+to India.
+
+I hesitated. The journey was long. But if anything happened to Glyncamp
+in India--if one of his cataleptic attacks should be mistaken for
+death----
+
+And so I decided to accompany him.
+
+We arrived at Rajiid just after Lord Galonfield had been released by
+the jaboowallah. It was Glyncamp who caused the retreating Earl to be
+seized again. The mind-reader had won the confidence of the Rajah under
+whose direction the jaboowallah had been working.
+
+Glyncamp and I were hiding near at the time that Forsythe had his
+interview with Galonfield. It was I, who, in accordance with Glyncamp’s
+instructions, cut the vocal cords that made him the Whispering
+Gentleman.
+
+But, as Lord Galonfield has said, all that Glyncamp was able to wring
+from him was too little and too late.
+
+Upon our return to Europe, Glyncamp learned of Pauline’s flight and of
+her relationship with Prince Maranotti. Through her he still hoped to
+be able to get the diamonds from Galonfield. He therefore used every
+possible effort to discover her whereabouts.
+
+The mind-reader had told me of his conversation with the unfortunate
+creature who is known as the Gargoyle, and he failed to understand why
+this person had failed to write to him after his arrival in the United
+States.
+
+At length, however, Glyncamp learned that detectives other than those
+in his employ were engaged in a search for Pauline Maranotti. Some of
+these were working in the interest of Lord Galonfield, but others still
+were representing the Gargoyle himself. Thus it came to pass that all
+the roads of the searchers led to Basselanto, and thither Glyncamp
+himself repaired.
+
+The cataleptic attacks that afflicted Glyncamp lately had been becoming
+more and more frequent, and the anxiety which they caused me was
+telling more and more on my nerves. I never knew at what moment the
+mind-reader would move off on a new tangent without acquainting me with
+his design. And I was almost terror-stricken when I reflected on what
+might happen were he to fall a victim to one of these attacks while at
+sea. Persons who are supposed to be dead on ocean vessels are buried
+with a haste that always has seemed distinctly reprehensible to me. I
+knew this sort of thing could not go on forever. I was growing weary of
+constant leaps from one country to another, and I wondered how long it
+was going to last.
+
+When Glyncamp went to Basselanto I remained at Paris. I had taken a
+severe cold that threatened me with pneumonia when from Naples came a
+dispatch that Glyncamp, the mind-reader, was dead.
+
+Ill as I was, I hurried to Italy. In the course of the journey I sent
+several telegrams ahead of me commanding those who were in charge of
+the body to make no effort to embalm it. At last I reached the place
+where the body lay. A brief examination convinced me that he was still
+alive.
+
+I soon revived him, but, though he was able to eat, he could not talk
+connectedly, and I knew that another and longer attack was imminent.
+I succeeded, however, in getting him aboard a vessel bound direct for
+New York. Two days later he again succumbed, and for ten days he lay
+motionless in his berth.
+
+At the time he regained consciousness I was on deck. It was not until,
+returning to the stateroom, I found him standing in the middle of the
+floor that I was aware of the change. His face was now white with anger.
+
+“Where are we, Doctor?” he asked.
+
+“Just coming in sight of Long Island,” I replied.
+
+“Long Island!” he exclaimed. “In Heaven’s name, man, you don’t mean
+to tell me that you have brought me back to America while--while that
+murderer, Leon Grenault, is still at large?”
+
+“Murderer--Grenault!” I repeated.
+
+“Yes. It was the devil-faced monster who assassinated Prince Maranotti.
+I was walking in the garden--when--when--Oh, you poor, maundering fool.
+I’ve had enough of you, and now----”
+
+Seizing a heavy walking stick, the half-frenzied mind-reader aimed a
+blow at my head. I fled to the deck, and, not being a bold man, I did
+not venture to put my life in jeopardy by confronting him before his
+anger subsided.
+
+That night I sent him a note asking him if he had forgiven me. Replying
+by the same method, he said that if he saw my face again he would make
+it look more hideous than Grenault’s.
+
+I secured a stateroom elsewhere, and, until the vessel docked at New
+York, I kept to it.
+
+While the luggage of the passengers was being examined on the dock, I
+saw a sudden rush of passengers toward the center of the big room. I
+was told that a man had fallen. Hurrying to the spot I saw that it was
+Glyncamp.
+
+I quickly proved, not only that I was a physician, but that the fallen
+man was a personal friend. Several strangers then helped me to get him
+into a cab. I gave the cabman my address and told him to get there
+as speedily as possible. Arriving at my house, where my two servants
+remained as caretakers during my absence abroad, I had Glyncamp taken
+to my operating room. This done, I summoned two of my fellow physicians.
+
+After making a careful examination of my patient, I pronounced him
+dead. The other physicians did likewise, then they left, and that night
+the death notices of Glyncamp, the mind-reader, were sent to all the
+papers. Not until long after midnight did reporters cease calling upon
+me for information concerning his death.
+
+A sudden death in New York is always, of course, a coroner’s case,
+and usually requires a post-mortem examination, therefore early on
+the following morning the coroner came to my house and viewed the
+body. When I explained, however, that, as his private physician, I
+had accompanied him on his travels and was with him when he died, the
+coroner was satisfied. I told him, however, that in the interests
+of science I would perform a post-mortem examination myself in the
+presence of any two physicians whom he might select. This arrangement
+was satisfactory and he left me. A couple of hours later two
+physicians, sent by the coroner, presented themselves and I led the
+way to the operating room. One of my visitors was Dr. Prellis, who had
+a modest private practice, the other was Dr. Felkner, a well-known
+surgeon, who was one of the principal members of a city hospital staff.
+
+At my suggestion it was arranged that the examination for the cause
+of death should be conducted by Dr. Felkner, and that when this was
+done the body would be delivered to me in order that, in the interest
+of science, I might make an analysis of the nervous system of this
+wonderful man.
+
+Dr. Felkner was a man of massive build, and, though slow of speech,
+his movements were singularly abrupt. When I saw that he was about to
+begin the dissection of the body, I slipped quietly from the room to
+get my spectacles which I had left in the study. I was in the act of
+placing these on my nose, when I was startled by a hoarse cry from the
+operating room.
+
+I heard John, my butler, passing through the hall, and I called to him.
+When he entered I bade him tell the cook to have some refreshments for
+my guests ready in an hour, at which time I thought we would be through
+in the operating room.
+
+The man was about to reply when I heard a second cry in the operating
+room, and the door was flung open suddenly. Dr. Prellis, whose face was
+as white as chalk, appeared on the threshold.
+
+“Come, Doctor--come--quickly,” he said, excitedly.
+
+“What is the trouble?” I asked calmly.
+
+But Prellis had disappeared. Adjusting my spectacles carefully, I
+followed him.
+
+My consternation may easily be imagined when I saw Glyncamp, sitting
+almost upright on the operating table, and supported by Felkner. My
+poor friend’s eyes were wide open and an expression of horror and agony
+was on his face.
+
+“Glyncamp--alive!” I gasped.
+
+A glance showed me that Felkner, beginning the operation with a deep,
+rapid incision, had inflicted a mortal wound.
+
+Glyncamp, fixing his great, gleaming eyes on me, said in a low,
+resonant voice:
+
+“You have done your will. Even while I lay in my stateroom on the
+vessel, your hands, resting on my head, revealed your thoughts to me.
+I knew that if I came under your power in New York I was doomed. That
+is why I resisted you. These two men are innocent of the crime that
+has been done here to-night. But you--you who knew the secret signs of
+my malady did not reveal them. You, whom I trusted, have murdered me.
+From this day forth, look where you will, you will see my face--in all
+shadows of the earth, in every cloud that floats above you--aye, and in
+the waters of the sea. The winds shall forever din a dead man’s curse
+into your ears, and the warmth of the sun shall be to you a breath of
+that furnace to which all murderers are consigned at last. In light and
+in darkness--whether you be waking or sleeping--I shall ever be with
+you. And when Death stands before you, as you now stand before me, I
+will be beside him. Until then--until then--remember me.”
+
+He stiffened suddenly and his chin sank to his breast, but, even then,
+as the lustre faded from his eyes, they still seemed to be staring at
+me from beneath their shaggy brows.
+
+It was only the mad idea of a dying man, of course, for, if other
+capable physicians should have been deceived by indications of death,
+why should I have not been misled by them? But it was all very
+unfortunate, for, doubt me if you will, the dying man spoke truly when
+he told me that everywhere I looked I should see his face. In my dreams
+he stands before me. When I read, I know he is behind my shoulder. At
+the bottom of my coffee cup--in the lees of my wine--in the ashes of
+my cigar, his features are always taking form. Sometimes he comes to
+me suddenly, and appears in such unexpected places, that his ghostly
+presence, familiar as it has become to me, inspires me with terror.
+It is because of these terrible visitations that I have contracted
+the infirmity which has caused me to be known to you as the Nervous
+Physician.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The narrator paused, and for several moments no word was spoken.
+
+“And, I suppose, examples of the wonderful nervous organism of your
+friend now constitute parts of that collection in which you take such
+pride,” observed the Decapitated Man, gloomily.
+
+The Nervous Physician glanced over his left shoulder and dodged
+slightly as if some one behind him had threatened him with a blow.
+
+“Yes, yes,” he replied, easily. “Among other things, I have the left
+hand intact. The right, however, and portions of the----”
+
+“Stop!” commanded the Sentimental Gargoyle, imperiously. “When a man
+learns that such miserable creatures inhabit the earth, he may not
+find it so difficult to leave it.”
+
+“You do not doubt that I--” the Nervous Physician began.
+
+“I do not doubt at all,” the Gargoyle interrupted. “That the cataleptic
+mind-reader was right when he accused you of his murder is a fact that
+is clear to all of us.”
+
+The Nervous Physician, turning slowly livid, rose unsteadily.
+
+“Do I understand that you, the murderer of Prince Maranotti, charge
+me----”
+
+“He is not the murderer of Prince Maranotti,” said a quiet voice from
+one end of the table.
+
+All eyes were turned toward the man who had spoken. It was the
+Homicidal Professor.
+
+“On what authority do you contradict me, sir?” demanded the Nervous
+Physician, angrily.
+
+“On the authority of the only witness to that terrible tragedy,” said
+the Homicidal Professor. “Having heard what others have said of the
+affair, I am compelled to believe that I am the only person who saw
+Prince Maranotti die at the hands of his assassin.”
+
+“You were there?” asked the Nervous Physician, incredulously.
+
+“Unfortunately--yes,” sighed the Homicidal Professor, who, in obedience
+to a nod from Westfall, at once proceeded to recount his experience.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XI
+
+                        “WHAT DREAMS MAY COME?”
+
+
+While listening to the stories of adventures and misadventures that
+have been narrated here, I have been irritated, from time to time, by
+the tendency of the narrators to suspect that certain effects were to
+be attributed to supernatural causes. Eventually the absurdity of such
+suspicions was proved, of course, but why, in the Twentieth Century,
+they should find even temporary lodgment in intelligent minds I am
+unable to understand.
+
+Neither on our planet nor beyond it can exist anything that properly
+may be regarded as supernatural. Above nature there is nothing, but in
+nature there is much that finite eyes may not see--that finite brains
+may not comprehend. We know human reason may be wrecked or restored
+by the sounding of a dominant, though simple, musical note, just as a
+great Alpine avalanche may result from the discharge of a far distant
+gun. Though the association of such causes and effects bewilders us,
+who would be so bold as to invest them with supernatural qualities?
+
+Until a few years ago a narrative such as you are about to have from me
+would be assigned to the category of “ghost stories.” But Science knows
+better now. The scientific breeding of animals and culture of plants
+show that after a lapse of two or three generations there is a tendency
+toward what is known as “reversion to type”--that is, a sudden return
+to one of the distinct species that was crossed in the breeding of the
+original stock. Thus from the egg of an Orpington hen, of pure breed,
+may issue a chicken which gradually assumes the appearance of a gray
+pheasant. Call it “reversion to type,” if you will. In reality it is
+the return of an ancestor.
+
+And in the human family the process of reincarnation is the same. A
+man lives and dies, and two generations of his descendants pass away,
+but in the third or fourth there again appears in the family line one
+who possesses his idiosyncrasies--temperamental and physical. And
+here we have the return of the human ancestor. Men may speak of such
+resemblances as supernatural, but science knows they are the products
+of nature herself.
+
+It is in this ancestral reincarnation that we find the explanation for
+those idiosyncrasies which we designate as “antipathies.” From one or
+more of these no man is free. Among my acquaintances there is a strong
+man who is conscious of an inexplicable feeling of horror whenever he
+comes within sight of the sea. Another has told me that to him death in
+the cellar of a burning house would be preferable to an attempt to save
+his life by passing through a tunnel so small that he would be obliged
+to move on hands and knees a distance of only fifty feet to safety in
+the open air. In the first case it is probable that drowning brought a
+former period of existence to an end. In the second it is reasonable to
+assume the inherited antipathy had its origin in some form of lingering
+death underground--the collapse of a mine, a fall into an empty well or
+premature burial in a cemetery.
+
+From my earliest youth two antipathies have produced most distressing
+effects upon me. Never have I been persuaded to approach the edge of a
+cliff. Fear and faintness invariably overcome me whenever I look from
+the window of a tall building to the street below. But my aversion
+to looking down from a lofty height is equalled by another. A strange
+numbness--the numbness of a nightmare--grips my faculties whenever my
+gaze falls, unexpectedly, upon a marble statue.
+
+Being a man of science, I have made painstaking efforts, from time to
+time, to trace back to their origin certain antipathies that have come
+to my attention. For family reasons, which soon will be apparent to
+you, it was difficult to seek the origin of mine, but eventually these
+difficulties were removed and all was made clear to me in circumstances
+so extraordinary that, when I have described them, you will be inclined
+to regard them as incidents and delusions in the life of a madman.
+
+Though a native of New York City, I am descended from one of the most
+distinguished families of Italy. For more than four centuries the house
+of Maranotti, rich, powerful and of ancient lineage, acknowledged no
+superior among the subjects of Italian sovereigns. But there came a
+time when its proud head was humbled to the dust, and its coronet and
+vast estates were forfeited to the King.
+
+Prince Delevrente Maranotti, upon inheriting the title and estates
+of his ancestors, shortly after the fall of Napoleon had enabled
+the Italian rulers to return to their thrones, became involved in a
+conspiracy against his sovereign. This was discovered, and one night
+Basselanto, the family seat, was entered by the King’s soldiers. In the
+struggle which ensued Delevrente was slain in his banquet hall. His
+estates reverted to the King, who, a few years later, bestowed them and
+the title on a younger branch of our family.
+
+Meantime, Delevrente’s only child, a son, was sent into exile. This
+son was my grandfather, who, upon leaving Italy, sought an asylum
+in France, where he married the daughter of a French army officer.
+Shortly after the birth of my father the little family emigrated to the
+United States. Like my grandfather, my father died soon after entering
+the prime of manhood. My mother did not long survive him, and thus, at
+an early age, I was left an orphan.
+
+A few days after my mother’s death I was summoned to the office of a
+lawyer who informed me that it was the will of Prince Maranotti that
+I should be educated in a manner becoming the son of a gentleman, and
+that thereafter I was to look to him for aid in that direction.
+
+The Prince was true to his word, and from that day until I attained
+my majority I wanted for nothing. When I came of age, however, I was
+requested to choose an occupation, and, shortly afterwards, when the
+chair of chemistry in a Western university was offered to me I promptly
+accepted it.
+
+Soon after this my kind benefactor died, and his son, a young man
+of about my own age, succeeded to the title and estates of the
+Maranottis. The young Prince immediately began to manifest toward me
+the same generosity that had characterized his father. Several offers
+of financial aid were followed by a series of solicitations from the
+Prince inviting me to visit him at Basselanto, the last of these being
+of such a nature that I deemed a refusal to accept it would be an act
+of gross ingratitude.
+
+To Basselanto, then, I repaired and found a welcome as cordial as ever
+brother extended to brother, and, as I walked arm in arm with my genial
+host through the palatial halls of my ancestors, much as I admired the
+grandeur of the place, I did not find it in my heart to envy him the
+possession of it. In all I saw I felt the same pride I should have felt
+had it been my own, for, though fortune had denied me possession of
+this, my father’s birthright, I still was a Maranotti and a child of
+the old mansion in which, for more than four centuries, my forefathers
+had dwelt.
+
+The Prince conducted me from room to room, explaining to me the many
+objects of interest to be found in each. Together we visited the
+various sleeping apartments where my guide exhibited souvenirs of noted
+visitors who had partaken of the hospitality of our family. He showed
+to me the costly family jewels and the rare gold and silver plate which
+were contained in the secret closets, but the most interesting room of
+his residence he reserved to show me last.
+
+“This room,” my host explained, “was formerly the banquet hall of the
+Maranottis, but my father, wishing to enlarge his library, utilized the
+old portrait gallery for that purpose, and had the paintings hung here.
+A rather rough looking lot, these earlier ones, are they not? And the
+old gentlemen were as rough in their deeds as in their features, for
+some of them were veritable brigands.”
+
+Then, leading me from frame to frame, he commented on the pictures
+they contained--portraits of old noblemen and their ladies, with whose
+mirth this hall, now so sombre and silent, oft had echoed and re-echoed
+through many a long night of revelry. Now he would pause to recount to
+me the daring deeds of a brave and rugged warrior whose image looked
+down upon us from the wall. Then he would dwell upon the virtues and
+vices of occupants of other frames. This one slew his brother in a
+quarrel; that one captured a bride for himself from the master of one
+of the most formidable strongholds in Italy. The lady with a coronet on
+her brow was a Maranotti who wedded a doge.
+
+His anecdotes interested me greatly, and I carefully noted all he said
+until we paused before the portrait of a young man whose features were
+rather more striking than those of the others.
+
+“This,” said the Prince, “is the portrait of Miavolo di Maranotti,
+the son of the old gentleman there.” And he pointed to the face of a
+rugged-featured man with white hair, in a neighboring frame. “It is
+believed,” continued my host, “that this young man met his death at
+the hands of bandits while defending himself and a lady, with whom he
+was walking, from their attack. His body, which had been pierced with
+a sword, was found at the top of a cliff yonder, while that of his
+companion was picked up from the rocks below.”
+
+“How long ago did this happen?” I asked.
+
+“About three centuries ago. That portrait yonder is of the Countess
+Diametta di Gordo, the other victim of that night.”
+
+Raising my eyes to the picture he indicated, I saw the face of a
+young woman of about twenty-two years of age. Her features were small
+and regular, and her complexion a beautiful creamy white. Her red
+lips, slightly parted, revealed a glimpse of her pearly teeth. The
+calm forehead, neither high nor low, was surmounted by hair of raven
+blackness, which, partly unconfined, fell upon her bare shoulders.
+Her eyes were dark and lustrous, and in them dwelt an expression that
+affected me strangely, for, stand as I would, their soft gaze seemed
+ever to rest upon my face as if striving to read in it the answer to
+some hidden problem.
+
+The face of Diametta di Gordo was surpassingly beautiful, yet, strange
+as it may seem, I did not then remark that it was so, for her beauty
+appeared to be subordinate in interest to an indefinable expression
+that seemed to emanate from beneath the fringed lids of her dark eyes,
+suffusing her features with a glow that gave to them the appearance of
+a sudden awakening to life.
+
+Stepping back a little in order to note the effect of a change of light
+upon the picture, I was somewhat startled to observe what I thought to
+be an alteration in the expression of the face, which now seemed to
+wear a look of recognition. Turning quickly to the Prince, I perceived
+him to be regarding the portrait with such apparent indifference that
+I was satisfied he had failed to observe anything extraordinary, so,
+believing I had been deceived by the uncertain light of the apartment,
+I attempted to laugh away my ghostly fancies.
+
+I made some commonplace remarks about the painting and the unhappy fate
+of its original, then we passed on to view the remaining portraits.
+While thus engaged, the face of the young woman that had so affected me
+passed out of my thoughts, but no sooner had the Prince left me than it
+again occupied a place in my mind to the exclusion of all else. During
+the remainder of the day, wherever I found myself, whether in the
+grove, in the drawing-room or among the musty tomes of the old library,
+that face, with its strange, inexplicable expression of recognition,
+was ever present.
+
+The Prince had arranged an excursion for the morrow, and as the start
+was to be made at seven o’clock in the morning I retired early in order
+to obtain a good night’s rest; but I had been in bed only a few minutes
+when I realized it would be impossible for me to sleep.
+
+If I lay upon my side, I would see in the moonlight the white-robed
+figure of Diametta di Gordo standing near my bed, her garments swaying
+gently as the breezes entered the open windows. If I buried my face
+in the pillows, I seemed to be looking down, down, down to where a
+white-clothed figure lay huddled and motionless in a rock-cluster, near
+the margin of a lake.
+
+Unable to free myself from these nerve-racking illusions, I rose,
+dressed, descended the stairs and stepped out upon the terrace. The
+night was clear and the light of the full moon shed a spiritual
+radiance over the slumbering beauty of Italian scenery.
+
+The bell of a neighboring monastery announced the hour of midnight
+as I followed a path leading to the lake. I had walked only a short
+distance, however, when there flashed into my mind the knowledge
+that the path ended at the edge of a cliff. Dominated by one of the
+antipathies of which I have spoken, I turned sharply and moved on in
+another direction until I came to a rustic bench near the entrance to
+a formal garden. There, in the shadow of a little group of poplars, I
+seated myself.
+
+I had been on the bench only a few minutes when a feeling of drowsiness
+began to steal over me. Thinking I now would be able to sleep, I was
+about to rise for the purpose of returning to my room when I was
+startled by the crunching of footsteps on the gravel path. A moment
+later the figure of a man appeared on my left and my curiosity quickly
+gave place to amazement. Was there a masquerade at Basselanto? If not,
+what meant the strange attire of this midnight stroller on the grounds?
+
+He was a young man of about twenty-five years of age, rather above
+medium height. His face was swarthy and his hair and small moustache
+were black. But it was the fashion of his dress that excited my wonder,
+for it was of the style of three centuries before. His round, black cap
+was surmounted by a small white plume. He wore a close-fitting dark
+doublet, and high boots of light leather extended to his thighs. As he
+advanced quickly his left hand rested on the hilt of a sword.
+
+“Ah, signor, you are in good time!”
+
+The words, cheerily spoken, came from my right, and, looking around,
+I perceived another young man, attired in a costume rather similar to
+that which had excited my wonder only a few moments before.
+
+“Ah, Antonio, it is you!” exclaimed the firstcomer, halting. “Yes. Ill
+fares the laggard at a feast.”
+
+“Your philosophy becomes you well,” replied Antonio, laughing. “But,
+surely, you do not come alone. Your sister and----”
+
+“They have preceded me,” interrupted the other.
+
+Arm in arm, they moved on together, and a turn in the path soon hid
+them from my view. My curiosity was about to impel me to follow them
+when a hand fell heavily on one of my shoulders. Turning hastily,
+I looked up into the face of an elderly man who was regarding me
+earnestly. He, too, was clad in the extraordinary attire that now was
+becoming familiar to me.
+
+“Fortune favors me, signor,” he said. “I was seeking you, and thought I
+might find you here.”
+
+“Indeed!” I stammered.
+
+“Yes. I left your father a few minutes ago. He then was inquiring of
+all he met if they had seen you to-night.”
+
+“My father!” I repeated, in astonishment.
+
+“Is it surprising that he seeks you at this hour?” the old man asked,
+reprovingly. “The guests are arriving and the festivities of the night
+are about to begin. All marvel at the absence of the son of their host.
+But come, come, my boy! This moping like an owl in the moonlight will
+lead to no good. Come with me to the hall and entertain your guests.”
+
+I rose from my seat like one who, roused suddenly, finds a vivid dream,
+with its misty figures and abruptly hushed voices, slipping away from
+him. Faint and trembling, I tried to think, to reason. How had I come
+to that spot? Had I come alone? Ah, yes--all was growing clearer to me
+now. I had wanted to be alone--that I might think of her--of her whose
+face had haunted me for hours.
+
+But how, I asked myself, had this woman, beautiful as she was,
+acquired such an influence over me? How could I account for the fever
+of excitement in my brain--for the dull, despairing sensation in my
+heart? Once more I seemed to look upon her smiling lips and into her
+questioning eyes. Then a full realization of the truth came to me like
+a leap of flame from sullenly smouldering embers.
+
+I loved her.
+
+I tried to reason with myself that such a love was impossible, for I
+never had even met the woman. Then, slowly, memory came to me. I had
+met her. It was only yesterday I had talked with her while she was
+gathering flowers in the garden. I had kissed her hand and had spoken
+to her of my love, and she had gently silenced me--as she had done,
+alas, many times before.
+
+And now despair came to me. I became dizzy, and, reeling, would have
+fallen had not a pair of strong hands grasped me.
+
+“What is the matter, signor? Are you ill?”
+
+In a moment all was over.
+
+“No,” I replied. “I am all right now. But where do you lead me?”
+
+“To the hall of Basselanto,” my companion explained. “Do you not
+remember?”
+
+“Yes, yes--to Basselanto,” I answered. “I remember now.”
+
+The old man eyed me quizzically and retained his hold upon my arm. A
+few moments later the old mansion was before me. All the rooms were
+brilliantly illuminated, and, through the windows, I saw figures in
+festal attire passing to and fro.
+
+Upon passing through a doorway I found myself in the midst of a throng
+of guests, most of whom greeted me familiarly, but for several moments
+after my entrance I was so dazed that I was incapable of utterance.
+I felt that everything about me I had seen before, and I no longer
+marvelled at the old-fashioned dress that was worn by all. I was
+faintly conscious of the fact that the persons by whom I was surrounded
+were not unknown to me, but I was unable to recall their names.
+
+As I seated myself on a chair, an old, though still hale and hearty,
+man approached me.
+
+“My son, I have been alarmed at your absence,” he said. “You should not
+have tarried so long. Why are you so late?”
+
+“I fell asleep in the park,” I replied, believing this to be the best
+way out of my dilemma.
+
+“An odd time and place to fall asleep,” the old gentleman muttered,
+suspiciously. “But it does not matter, now that you are here.”
+
+Turning, then, to a white-haired man with a dark face, who had just
+entered the room, he said: “Ah, Doctor, I am glad to see you. I feared
+you would not come.”
+
+The newcomer returned the greeting and seated himself near me.
+
+The master of the house was in another part of the room, and I was
+viewing with increasing curiosity the strange scene around me, when a
+conversation which was being carried on near me arrested my attention.
+
+“The theory is a strange one,” I heard the Doctor say, “but there are
+Europeans who believe it to be indisputable.”
+
+“I must confess my ignorance of the subject,” said his companion.
+“Perhaps you will enlighten me.”
+
+“Well, what knowledge I have has been obtained from the priests
+themselves,” the Doctor went on. “They say that, after death, the soul
+of man does not enter the body of a beast, as many assume who believe
+in the doctrine of metempsychosis, but that it takes its abode in
+another human body in which form it receives the punishment to be meted
+out for the errors of its former period of life. To illustrate this,
+the priests relate the case of a man who, for some offense, had been
+condemned to be tortured to death. As he prepared to meet his doom he
+suddenly became as one insane, declaring that in his executioner he
+recognized a slave who once had belonged to him when he was chief of
+a desert tribe. This slave, he said, by his command had been flayed
+alive for disobedience. As the criminal was well-known to have been a
+resident of the city since his birth, there were few who gave credence
+to his ravings, but these few trembled as they beheld the anguish of
+the dying man, for in it they believed they saw the justice of an
+avenging god who made the victim of the present sufferer the instrument
+of his wrath.”
+
+“Do you believe all this?” asked his friend.
+
+The Doctor smiled gravely.
+
+“At first I was as sceptical as you probably are, but--” he began.
+
+I heard no more. Strains of music issued from an adjoining apartment
+and there was a general rush in that direction. I rose uncertainly. My
+thoughts were confused and, striving to escape observation, I went out
+to the hallway and thence to a large apartment which I perceived to be
+unoccupied. Rich tapestries and beautiful paintings adorned the walls.
+The floor was strewn with the skins of the lion and the leopard and
+soft Oriental rugs. Marble statues of various sizes were arranged about
+the room, but these I scarcely noticed as I stepped toward a large
+mirror set in the wall.
+
+Before this mirror I paused, and the reflection I saw there so
+astonished me as to render me incapable of action, for, instead of
+seeing my person reflected in the glass as I had expected to see it,
+clad in the conventional style of Paris in the Twentieth Century, I was
+confronted by the image of Miavolo di Maranotti, as I had seen it in
+the frame on the wall of the banquet hall on the preceding day.
+
+Overcome and appalled by the metamorphosis I had undergone, I stood
+staring into the mirror, striving to grasp the meaning of it all, when
+I was startled by a laughing voice behind me.
+
+“Signor, you are vain--so vain that you have forgotten to lead me to
+the dance.”
+
+How shall I describe the sensations which overwhelmed me as, turning
+quickly, I beheld the speaker of these words?
+
+Spellbound and speechless, I felt as if I were about to fall. I tried
+to speak--to breathe--but I could not. Then a trembling seized me--my
+tense muscles relaxed, and, like the rush of air to a vacuum, my spirit
+sought my lips, and I whispered:
+
+“Diametta!”
+
+Yes, it was she whose face had haunted me for hours, and now, as I
+contemplated the dark hair, the lustrous eyes and the form which,
+despite its suppleness, possessed queenly grace and dignity, I felt it
+was no mortal on whom I gazed, but a denizen of one of those invisible
+realms on which the moonbeams rest before they seek our planet. Her
+dress, cut low in the fashion of her time, revealed the perfect
+contour of her shoulders and full, round bosom. She was attired in
+white, and in her hair diamonds gleamed like stars in the dark field of
+the firmament.
+
+“Signor!” she exclaimed, laughing merrily. “Why, you start as if you
+had seen a ghost!”
+
+Struck by the singular propriety of her exclamation, I continued to
+gaze at her speechlessly. The laughter left her face.
+
+“Ah, you are lost in one of your gloomy reveries again,” she sighed.
+“Upon my word, you grow worse each day. Whoever heard of a man of your
+age gravely communing with Pluto while the noisy mirth of Venus was
+ringing in his ears?”
+
+In stammering accents I was beginning some sort of reply when there
+entered the room a young man in whom I recognized the stranger who
+first had excited my wonder in the park. Upon seeing Diametta and
+myself, he advanced, and, after saluting us with a bow, he addressed
+himself to my companion.
+
+“I was in search of you,” he said pleasantly, as Diametta acknowledged
+his salutation. Then, turning to me, he asked:
+
+“And, Cousin, where have you been hiding? Until now my search for you
+has been vain!”
+
+“He has been here,” Diametta replied. “I found him rehearsing the scene
+of a tragedy in front of the mirror.”
+
+“I had just entered,” I explained, somewhat chagrined by their
+amusement. Then, turning toward Diametta, I continued: “But we are not
+too late for the dance which has just commenced. Shall we not go?”
+
+“Pardon me while I accomplish the object that led me hither,” said the
+young man, bowing low. “Lady, may I crave your favor for the next?”
+
+“You have it, signor,” replied Diametta graciously; then taking one of
+my arms, she accompanied me from the room.
+
+It is idle for me to attempt to describe the sensations that dominated
+me while I walked on beside this beautiful woman. Vaguely, I remembered
+that someone had told me she had died nearly three centuries before,
+but I banished the memory as an idle fancy. Yielding to the gayety of
+her spirits, my burden of gloom grew lighter. As I mingled with the
+dancers, I made lively retorts to witty sallies that were addressed to
+me. My mind, however, seemed paralyzed by a sort of pleasurable wonder,
+for the words I spoke came without effort of thought. One-half of my
+personality seemed to be acting independently of the other half--one a
+wondering spectator of the performance of the other.
+
+In a few moments I was taking, with perfect ease, the steps of a dance
+I never had before known. And we danced on and on--an old-world measure
+that was sometimes wild and free, and sometimes as stately as a minuet.
+And, as we danced, I thrilled to Diametta’s touch and tried to look
+into her eyes, but their glances evaded mine. I whispered, but she
+seemed not to hear me.
+
+At length the music ceased and the dancers dispersed among the various
+apartments of the mansion. As I accompanied Diametta to the place where
+she had expressed a desire to rest, I besought her favor for another
+dance. She reminded me the next was promised to my cousin, Bernardo.
+I begged for the following one, which she granted with ill-disguised
+reluctance.
+
+Scarcely had we seated ourselves when we were surrounded by half a
+score of persons, and soon Bernardo, appearing to claim his partner,
+deprived me of whatever conversation I had hoped to have with Diametta.
+
+When I was alone I arose and stepped out upon the terrace. All the
+gayety I felt only a few minutes before had abandoned me. Diametta’s
+reluctance to dance with me again depressed and irritated me.
+
+From the moment I had been confronted by my reflection in the mirror
+I had been conscious of a rapidly increasing feeling of familiarity
+with the persons and objects that I saw. So fully defined became this
+impression at last that I no longer doubted that I was the son of the
+old gentleman who had addressed me upon my entrance to the hall, or
+that the young man then with Diametta was my cousin. Diametta, however,
+continued to occupy the most prominent place in my thoughts, and I
+distinctly remembered that on several former occasions I had told her
+of my love and asked her to become my wife.
+
+With quick, impatient steps I strode to and fro on the terrace. As
+the music recommenced, I made an angry gesture of annoyance, for was
+she not, even now, leaning upon the arm of my cousin, in whom I saw a
+dangerous rival?
+
+Stepping to one of the windows, I looked in upon the dancers. Yes,
+there they were together--one of her hands clasped in his, and from
+that moment not a gesture nor a smile of either of them escaped me. As
+I watched them, I could not doubt that my fears were well-founded, for
+that there was a difference in the attitude which Diametta assumed with
+respect to Bernardo and myself was painfully apparent. While dancing
+with me she had been gay and lively; with him she was quiet and gentle,
+seemingly taking a pleasurable interest in the words which fell from
+lips that were very close to her face.
+
+Unable to bear the sight, I turned away and continued to pace up and
+down the terrace.
+
+In a few minutes the music ceased. I was engaged to Diametta for the
+next dance, but, fearing that if I entered at once to claim her I
+should betray my agitation, I determined to wait until I should become
+more calm.
+
+At length I entered the mansion and began a search for my partner. I
+had passed through several rooms when I saw her walking slowly toward
+a door which opened on the terrace. One of her hands rested on an arm
+of Bernardo, and she was looking up at his face. Upon arriving at the
+door, Bernardo halted, and when Diametta passed out he followed her.
+
+I waited a few moments; then, stepping quickly to the door, I looked
+out. They were descending the steps.
+
+No tiger of the jungle ever stalked his prey more stealthily than I
+stole on after the lovers, who were walking slowly in the direction
+of the lake. The right arm of Bernardo now encircled the waist of
+his companion, and, as he whispered in her ear, his dark face almost
+touched her own.
+
+Step by step I followed them, through gardens and grove, until they
+halted in a rustic pavilion overlooking the waters of the lake. There
+they seated themselves, and I crept softly forward to a place in the
+shadow of the structure where, unobserved, I might watch and listen.
+
+For several moments neither of them spoke; then Diametta broke the
+silence.
+
+“How beautiful it is out here to-night,” she murmured, softly.
+
+The strains of music in the hall of Basselanto fell upon my ears,
+but were unheeded by the lovers. The dance had commenced, and I was
+forgotten.
+
+“All the world seems beautiful to me to-night,” Bernardo said. “There
+is only one thing lacking to make it Paradise, and that, dear Diametta,
+is in your power to bestow. It is the right to hold you always in my
+arms as I do now. Tell me, Diametta, do you love me? Will you be my
+wife?”
+
+Was it the murmur of ripples on the rocks below, or the whispers of
+the nightwind in the branches overhead? Or was it the soft “yes” of a
+woman, borne from her lips by a sigh of happiness as she plighted her
+troth to the man she loved?
+
+I know not whether the question of her lover was answered by word or
+by silence. She was lost to me--irredeemably lost. I was overcome by
+the violence of two powerful passions--of baffled love for the one and
+inveterate hate for the other.
+
+Rising from my place of concealment, I looked over the pavilion rail.
+I saw Diametta clasped in the arms of Bernardo. Her head rested on his
+shoulder as she submitted passively to the kisses he pressed to her
+face and hands. At length Bernardo, raising his eyes, saw that they
+were not alone. His exclamation of surprise caused Diametta to look up.
+
+I leaped over the rail of the pavilion and stood before them.
+
+“What brings you here?” Bernardo demanded, angrily.
+
+“Pardon the intrusion, signor,” I replied. “I came to seek my partner
+for the dance. Do you not hear the music, Diametta? We are late.”
+
+“No, no, Miavolo--no!” Diametta protested, weakly. “Not--not now. You
+have frightened me.”
+
+“Come,” I directed, sternly.
+
+“She has told you no,” Bernardo said. “Now go.”
+
+He turned away, and, trembling with passion, I drew my sword. Grasping
+it in such a manner that the blade was below my hand, I swung my arm
+with all my strength, striking him full in the temple with the brazen
+hilt of the weapon. He fell, stunned and bleeding, to the ground.
+
+Diametta sprang toward me with a little cry, and I shrank from the
+unutterable hate that flashed out of her dark eyes. Then, regaining my
+composure, I sheathed my sword, and, moving toward her, offered her my
+arm.
+
+“Pardon my rudeness in your presence,” I said, “but my cousin’s command
+to me was rudely spoken. It grows chill out here. Let us return to the
+hall.”
+
+As I moved toward her, she retreated, and so both of us passed out of
+the pavilion. Then, losing patience, I sprang toward her and seized one
+of her wrists.
+
+“Diametta, I have several times asked you to be my wife,” I went on, in
+a voice that now was trembling with my passion. “You have refused. If
+you do not now consent to----”
+
+“Well, then, coward?”
+
+Releasing her wrist, I drew my sword and silently pointed it toward the
+pavilion where Bernardo still lay upon the floor.
+
+With a little cry she lurched toward me and caught one of my hands in
+both her own.
+
+“No, no, Miavolo!” she cried. “Kill me, if you will, but do not harm
+him now. In the name of the love you say you bear me, do not harm him
+now!”
+
+I tried to disengage my hand from her grasp, but she held it firmly.
+Finally I freed myself, and turned toward the pavilion, but as I did
+so she laid hold of my belt. I struggled with her for several moments,
+then, letting fall my sword, I seized her about the waist and flung her
+from me.
+
+A piercing shriek rang in my ears, and, looking to see where she had
+fallen, I saw I stood near the edge of the cliff--alone.
+
+Half-blind with horror, I tottered to the brink and looked down, hoping
+I might see clinging to some ledge or bush the beloved form I had cast
+from me. On the rocks below I saw her lying white and motionless in the
+moonlight.
+
+I staggered backward as I realized what I had done. Gone now from
+firmament and lake was all the beauty that Diametta and her lover had
+extolled only a few minutes before. The waters and the hills they loved
+so well seemed to frown dark and threateningly upon me, and the stars,
+glittering in sky and lake, appeared to be the shining hosts of Heaven
+assembled to bear witness to the enormity of my crime.
+
+The exclamation of a man caused me to turn around, and I perceived my
+cousin, Bernardo, standing within a few paces of me.
+
+“What have you done?” he demanded, hoarsely.
+
+“I have killed her,” I answered, regarding him calmly.
+
+He did not speak. Reeling like a drunken man, he leaned against a tree.
+I did not pity him, as, waiting, I contemplated his misery. The pale,
+blood-stained face which, only a few minutes before had been illumined
+by the light of noble passion failed to excite my sympathy, for in the
+staggering wretch before me I saw only the man who had dashed my cup of
+happiness to the ground and made me the murderer of the woman I loved.
+
+But I had not long to wait. Bernardo soon recovered himself and,
+drawing his sword, advanced silently to meet me. I picked up my own
+blade from the ground and awaited his attack.
+
+Little did I suspect that the hatred that then was forged in my heart
+and brain was to endure, like my love for Diametta, through coming
+ages--that, like Bernardo, I was to live only that I might love and
+hate and fight and die--to live again.
+
+Bernardo attacked me furiously, and, assuming the defensive, I guarded
+cautiously, believing that in a few moments I would be able to take
+advantage of my opponent’s recklessness. At length, penetrating his
+guard, I inflicted a slight wound in his shoulder, whereupon he began
+to defend himself more carefully.
+
+As we fought on, we moved further and further away from the pavilion
+and the edge of the cliff--a dangerous proceeding for us both, for on
+the ever-changing ground there were missteps to be feared, and, in
+such circumstances, a single misstep would mean death. And so, as we
+circled, advanced or retreated, there was no cessation of the death
+rattle made by our parrying and thrusting blades.
+
+But the end came suddenly. I just had parried a dangerous thrust when
+I saw behind my antagonist a female figure, clothed in white. Was it
+she--Diametta? No, it was only a marble statue of the goddess Diana
+which--a great chill benumbed my body--my sword fell from my hand--the
+stars seemed to fall from the skies--my head swam--I reeled--and knew
+no more.
+
+Upon opening my eyes I saw the sun had risen and that I was lying on a
+rustic seat in the park of Basselanto. As I rose to a sitting posture
+I was conscious of a feeling of numbness in my limbs. I was trying to
+recall the events of the night when a laughing voice fell on my ears.
+
+“Ah, good-morning, Cousin. You have risen early, but come in and have
+breakfast. We will be ready to start in an hour.”
+
+Glancing up, I saw my young host, the Prince Maranotti, standing beside
+me; but, as I rose to take the hand he extended toward me, I drew
+back trembling and aghast, for, gazing into the eyes of my generous
+benefactor, I saw that through them the soul of the hated Bernardo
+looked me in the face.
+
+Once more the hot blood surged to my head, and I knew that the struggle
+in which Bernardo and Miavolo had been engaged on this spot three
+centuries before had not been finished. Divine justice had punished me
+by depriving me of my birthright, but I now lived to fight again.
+
+From the manner in which the Prince shrank from me I knew he saw my
+purpose in my eyes.
+
+“Great God, man, are you mad?” he faltered.
+
+The words were scarcely spoken when we grappled. I thought to hear him
+call for aid, but he was silent as, straining every effort, each of us
+contested for the mastery.
+
+We did not fight as Anglo-Saxons fight--with clenched fists--but as
+savages, with the joints of crooked thumbs thrust deep in throbbing,
+choking throats. We fought with knees and feet, and, as each used all
+his might, we moved toward the edge of the cliff. So near did we get
+to it at last that twice or thrice stones were moved by our straining,
+twisting feet and fell into the abyss near which we tottered. Panting,
+cursing, groaning and half-fainting, we maintained our struggle.
+
+Then one of my feet slipped, and a cry of despair escaped me. My
+adversary, thinking as I did, that I was about to fall, drew back.
+By a miracle I recovered my balance and reeled toward him. Again we
+clinched, swung round and parted. My open hands thrust his shoulders.
+Weak as was the effort, it sufficed. As the Prince fell backward from
+the cliff, I heard him groan, then his body flashed from my view.
+
+Three days later I was in Paris. There, seated at breakfast, I read
+in a newspaper an account of the death of Prince Maranotti. That he
+was murdered there could be no doubt, for the ground at the top of
+the cliff beneath which his body was found bore traces of a violent
+struggle.
+
+I returned to this country on a steamer that sailed from Southampton,
+and since then I have been little more than a pariah. Unable to obtain
+employment without credentials, I was compelled to abandon the vocation
+of chemist and shun old friends and acquaintances, with the result that
+for several weeks I have been a workman in a paper-box factory.
+
+None but a man who has felt the blighting curse of Cain can know what
+it means to be fleeing always from that remorseless spirit of the law
+which requires “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and a life for
+a life.” And yet it is not punishment that may be administered by men
+that I fear. That from which I shrink is the certainty that, in the
+fateful cycle of eternal existence, my soul must be seared again by the
+baleful fire of a love that cannot die--a love for which Bernardo and I
+must fight, as we have fought before, near the marble statue of Diana
+on the cliff of Basselanto.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII
+
+                           THE DRAINED GLASS
+
+
+As the Homicidal Professor finished his narrative, he turned to the
+Nervous Physician.
+
+“And so, you see, sir, your friend Glyncamp had something else on his
+mind when you understood him to say that the Gargoyle was the murderer
+of Prince Maranotti,” he said.
+
+“His language was a little disjunctive at the time,” murmured the
+Nervous Physician, thoughtfully. “But I can’t quite understand why a
+man who possesses the characteristics of the Gargoyle should stop at
+anything, yet everybody now seems disposed to make a hero of him.”
+
+The Gargoyle laughed mirthlessly as he reached for a decanter and
+poured more wine into his glass.
+
+“You do everybody an injustice, Doctor,” he replied. “Heroes are
+made of nobler clay than that which Nature found available when she
+fashioned me. Heroes are capable of inspiring affection in the hearts
+of friends, but in the heart of man or woman the Gargoyle has no place.”
+
+The one-eyed Duckhunter, clearing his throat, laid his hands on the
+table and looked at them meditatively. The Hypochondriacal Painter
+sighed and stroked his beard.
+
+“You are wrong, sir,” said Westfall, composedly. “With one exception,
+perhaps, I think I may safely say that all of us are now your friends.”
+
+“By the exception, our host means me,” the Nervous Physician
+explained. “Having been more or less interested in the late Mr.
+Glyncamp’s intentions concerning this young lady, I must confess that I
+do not find quite to my liking this Twentieth Century adaptation of the
+old story of ‘The Beauty and the Beast.’”
+
+The Gargoyle, twirling his glass of wine with nervous fingers, laughed
+softly.
+
+“It was a pretty story,” said the Duckhunter, thoughtfully. “But, since
+the Princess in that tale found the face of a noble gentleman behind
+the face of the monster, why is it not possible that our Princess has
+made a similar discovery in the case of the hero of her romance?”
+
+“If the old poets are to be believed, satyrs have been loved by some of
+the fairest nymphs,” observed the Hypochondriacal Painter, solemnly.
+
+The Decapitated Man rose abruptly, then, throwing on the table the
+napkin which had been lying on his knee, he walked to where the
+Gargoyle sat and held out his hand. The Gargoyle looked up sharply,
+hesitated, then, rising, he grasped the extended hand and bowed.
+
+The Decapitated Man turned to the Aeronaut.
+
+“Madame--” he begun.
+
+“Stop!” exclaimed the Gargoyle, sharply. “Though you mean kindly, let
+us not draw aside the veil that hides the face of Truth.”
+
+“I will spare you that trouble, then,” said the Princess, as she raised
+and threw back the veil that had concealed her features.
+
+She was very pale, but her lips and eyes were smiling, as she added:
+
+“Gentleman, I am prepared to receive your congratulations.”
+
+“Paula!” exclaimed the Fugitive Bridegroom. “Are you mad? Do you not
+know that----”
+
+“I know many things that I had not even suspected before I came to the
+Barge of Haunted Lives,” the Princess interrupted.
+
+The Gargoyle dropped the hand of the Decapitated Man, and the
+Duckhunter, who sat beside him, saw that he was trembling. But in
+the ugly, perpetually smiling face there was no change. It was in a
+slightly shaking voice that he asked:
+
+“Madame, am I to understand that--that you have so overcome your
+dislike for me that you are willing to acknowledge me as your--your
+husband?”
+
+“Yes,” the Princess answered, quietly. “Like the Princess in the
+old tale to which the Nervous Physician has referred, the Princess
+Maranotti has found her fairy Prince at last.”
+
+The Gargoyle shook his head, then, seating himself abstractedly, he
+toyed with his glass.
+
+“Unfortunately for me, Princess, I came too late into the world to
+profit by the fairy powers that could transform a monster into a man
+who might be capable of winning and retaining Beauty’s love,” he said.
+“As I have told you, Glyncamp once asked me to tell him what was the
+dominant purpose in my life, and I replied ‘When I have seen the most
+beautiful man, the most beautiful woman, and the most wonderful gem
+that the earth now holds, I shall die content.’ Thanks to the mission
+on which the mind-reader sent me, I have seen these. Therefore, I should
+be content. But, Princess, I once cherished the wish that I might be
+your spirit lover--that, as I lurked beside the paths along which you
+walked, I might hear your voice--that, keeping vigil under your window
+while you were sleeping, I might know no harm was threatening you. And,
+if it is permitted spirits to return to the earth, your spirit lover
+I will always be. But your husband I can never be. There is here one
+who should have a greater claim on your affections than the unsightly
+Gargoyle. It is not he whose idle fancies caused him to desert you
+after he had led you to the altar, but he who braved so many cruel,
+unknown enemies in his grim attempt to get the Rajiid diamonds and lay
+them at your feet. It is to the long life and eternal happiness of Lord
+and Lady Galonfield that I drink.”
+
+As the guests looked at him with wondering, fascinated eyes, the
+Gargoyle rose and slowly raised his glass, then, with a quick movement,
+he drained it of its contents.
+
+“Gentleman,” said the Gargoyle, calmly, “some of our stories have been
+long, and the dawn is breaking. By its light I shall be the first to
+leave the Barge of Haunted Lives.”
+
+He turned slowly, and began to walk toward the arched doorway. He moved
+steadily enough at first, but, after going four or five paces, he was
+seen to totter.
+
+The guests rose hastily, and Westfall started toward the halting man.
+He was too late. Before the hand of his host could grasp his arm, the
+Gargoyle fell to the floor.
+
+A few moments later the Princess was kneeling at his side. The eyes of
+the dying man grew brighter.
+
+As Galonfield raised the Gargoyle’s head and shoulders, the Princess
+pressed her lips to the brow that never had felt the touch of human
+lips before.
+
+The Gargoyle took her hands.
+
+“Good-night, my Princess,” he murmured, weakly. “If, in your dreams,
+you seek my wandering spirit, you will find it waiting to receive you
+in--in the Valley of the Garden.”
+
+And it was in the Valley of the Garden that, a year and a half later, a
+man and a woman stood beside a marble shaft on which was inscribed the
+name of Leon Grenault.
+
+Lord Galonfield, looking toward the northern end of the lake, asked,
+quietly:
+
+“And yonder lies the Valley of the Perfect Man?”
+
+“Yonder is the Valley of the Perfect Man,” his wife answered, softly.
+“But the Perfect Man lies here.”
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s Note:
+
+
+  Obvious errors in punctuation have been silently corrected in this
+version, but minor inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained
+as printed.
+
+  The following changes have been made:
+
+  On page 025: adenture _to_ adventure
+  On page 037: enthusisatic _to_ enthusiastic
+  On page 067: he _to_ be
+  On page 101: visèd _to_ viséd
+  On page 135: decending _to_ descending
+  On page 164: gaurds _to_ guards
+  On page 166: bethrothed _to_ betrothed
+  On page 228: Gargoylle _to_ Gargoyle
+  On page 250: Glanagassett _to_ Glenagassett
+  On page 313: Bassellanto _to_ Basselanto
+
+  On page 177: the third and fourth lines in the following paragraph in
+Chapter VI have been switched. Here is the passage as printed:
+
+  The gates of Dreamland seemed to be opening their
+ portals to me now, and I felt as if peris, standing at my
+ visited my girlish fancies were gazing on me from the
+ side, were pointing to where the heroes who so often had
+ mystic city’s walls.
+
+  New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
+public domain.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77879 ***