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diff --git a/77879-h/77879-h.htm b/77879-h/77879-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e43f0a --- /dev/null +++ b/77879-h/77879-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14064 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <title> + The Barge of Haunted Lives | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +.p4 {font-size: 0.7em;} +.p5 {font-size: 1.5em;} +.p10 {font-size: 2.0em;} + +.ornate { +font-family: "Old English Text MT", cursive, serif +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 0.25em; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} + + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} /* page numbers */ + + +blockquote { + margin-top: 0; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em; +} + + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + +figcaption {font-weight: bold;} +figcaption p {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: .2em; text-align: inherit;} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + + +/* Poetry */ +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ +/* .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} */ +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2.0em;} +.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1.0em;} +.poetry .indent12 {text-indent: 3.0em;} + +.mt2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowe12_5000 {width: 12.5000em;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77879 ***</div> + + +<h1> +THE<br> +BARGE OF HAUNTED LIVES +</h1> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div> + + +<figure class="figcenter illowe12_5000" id="colophon"> + <img class="w100" src="images/colophon.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + + +<p class="center mt2"> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</p> +<p class="center p4"> +NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS<br> +ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO</p> + +<p class="center mt2"> +MACMILLAN & CO., <span class="smcap">Limited</span></p> +<p class="center p4"> +LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA<br> +MELBOURNE</p> + +<p class="center mt2"> +THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span></p> +<p class="center p4"> +TORONTO +</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center p10"> +THE<br> +BARGE OF HAUNTED LIVES +</p> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +BY +</p> + +<p class="center p5"> +J. AUBREY TYSON +</p> + +<p class="center p4"> +AUTHOR OF “THE SCARLET TANAGER” +</p> + + +<p class="center mt2"> +<span class="ornate">New York</span> +<br> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br> +1923</p> +<p class="center p4"> +<i>All rights reserved</i> +</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div> +<p class="center p4"> +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA +</p> + + +<p class="center p4"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1923,</span></p> +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">By</span> THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.<br> +</p> +<p class="center p4"> +Set up and Electrotyped. Published, 1923. +</p> + + +<p class="center p4"> +FERRIS PRINTING COMPANY<br> +NEW YORK +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS"> + CONTENTS + </h2> + + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<th class="tdl"></th> +<th class="tdl">CHAPTER</th> +<th class="tdl">PAGE<br></th> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">I.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><span class="smcap">A Salt Marsh Adventure</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">3<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">II.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><span class="smcap">At Destiny’s Crossroads</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">18<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">III.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><span class="smcap">The Mystery of a Derelict</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">35<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">IV.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><span class="smcap">The Shadow of Nemesis</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">68<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">V.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><span class="smcap">The Eyes of Rajiid</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">112<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">VI.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><span class="smcap">A Wanderer from Araby</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">171<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">VII.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><span class="smcap">The Image of God</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">244<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">VIII.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><span class="smcap">On Desert Sands</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">260<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">IX.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><span class="smcap">The Quest of the Beautiful</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">271<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">X.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><span class="smcap">At the End of a Trail</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">292<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">XI.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">“<span class="smcap">What Dreams May Come?</span>”</a></td> +<td class="tdr">306<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">XII.</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><span class="smcap">The Drained Glass</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">329</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Transcribers_Note"><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Note</span></a></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center p10"> +THE BARGE OF HAUNTED LIVES +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I"> + CHAPTER I +<br> +A SALT MARSH ADVENTURE + </h2> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Canbeck still was watching the retreating plane when +his attention was attracted by the quacking of frightened +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, but will you tell me whether it +will be possible for me to get to a railway station to-night?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span>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.</p> + +<p>For several moments the duckhunter stared vacantly +at the young woman who had hailed him. She repeated +her question:</p> + +<p>“Can you tell me if it will be possible for me to get to a +railway to-night?”</p> + +<p>“How, in Heaven’s name, did you get out here?” Canbeck +demanded.</p> + +<p>“I came in the seaplane,” the young woman replied, and +now there was a note of sharpness in her voice.</p> + +<p>The duckhunter, turning deliberately, gazed thoughtfully +toward where the flying-boat appeared to be scarcely +larger than an eagle in the distance.</p> + +<p>“The devil you did!” he muttered; then, in a louder +voice, he asked: “Why did it leave you in such a place as +this?”</p> + +<p>“Frankly, I do not know. I was compelled to alight, +however.”</p> + +<p>“Compelled!” Canbeck exclaimed. “Am I to understand +that you were left here against your will?”</p> + +<p>“It is scarcely such a place as a woman would select to +pass the night,” the fair stranger retorted, curtly.</p> + +<p>“You are right,” the duckhunter assented. “But how +did it happen that—”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Is that the boat to which you refer?” she asked, as +Canbeck paused.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>An expression of vexation settled on the young +woman’s face and she compressed her lips slightly.</p> + +<p>“You have nothing to do, then, with the canal-boat?” +she asked.</p> + +<p>“With the canal-boat!” Canbeck repeated wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“Yes—it is a canal-boat, isn’t it? Or is it a barge?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I do not understand you,” replied the +duckhunter.</p> + +<p>The young woman frowned impatiently.</p> + +<p>“I mean the boat that is lying in the other creek,” she +said.</p> + +<p>“I did not know that there was a boat of any kind in +the other creek,” Canbeck explained.</p> + +<p>Once more the young woman was looking at him +searchingly, and, as she looked, distrust again entered her +eyes.</p> + +<p>“How long have you been here—here in this creek?” +she asked.</p> + +<p>“I entered it from the bay about seven o’clock this +morning, but I saw no boat in the other creek.”</p> + +<p>She looked over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>doubtless can make you more comfortable than I can. We +will see.”</p> + +<p>“You will go with me?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly—if you will permit me to do so. It is better, +perhaps, that you should not go alone.”</p> + +<p>Canbeck drew in his decoys; then he paddled his boat +to the bank.</p> + +<p>“Shall I take your gun?” the young woman asked, as +the duckhunter prepared to disembark from his craft.</p> + +<p>“If you will, please.”</p> + +<p>The manner in which she took the weapon from his +hand indicated that firearms were not strange to her.</p> + +<p>“The ducks you shot are drifting downstream,” she +said, suggestively.</p> + +<p>“I can spare them. I did pretty well this morning.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“An army man, and probably a West Pointer,” she +murmured.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>stovepipe on the roof of the deckhouse a thin cloud of smoke +was issuing.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Queer barge—this!” he muttered. “They are doing +their cooking below.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Why did you not stay outside?” the duckhunter +demanded sharply.</p> + +<p>The young woman, looking around her with wide, +staring eyes, gave no heed to his question.</p> + +<p>“In the name of all that is wonderful—” she began.</p> + +<p>With a shrug of impatience, the duckhunter turned to +the door and grasped the knob.</p> + +<p>“They’ve locked us in!” he muttered.</p> + +<p>She heard him now.</p> + +<p>“Locked us in!” she exclaimed with sudden apprehension. +“Who do you mean by ‘they’?”</p> + +<p>“How should I know? But come—let’s get away from +this door.”</p> + +<p>Grasping the young woman roughly by one of her +arms, Canbeck led her a few paces to the left.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What does it all mean?” asked the young woman, in a +voice that was scarcely louder than a whisper.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The young woman, gazing around her with wondering +eyes, murmured:</p> + +<p>“It looks like some of those strange places—those +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>cabarets in Montmartre, in Paris—the Chat Noir, the +House of Death and——”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely spoken, however, when +Canbeck and the young woman started suddenly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“If you must shoot, my friend, let us have one barrel at +a time,” he said.</p> + +<p>Thus speaking, he descended the three steps in front of +the doorway.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>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.</p> + +<p>Fixing his gaze on the duckhunter, Westfall, still +smiling, added:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Frowning slightly, Canbeck regarded the speaker +searchingly.</p> + +<p>“You were expecting me to dinner—here—to-day?” he +exclaimed incredulously.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied the millionaire, easily. “And the fact +that you come as escort to our guest of honor makes you +doubly welcome.”</p> + +<p>Nodding genially, Westfall now turned to Canbeck’s +wondering companion.</p> + +<p>“Your highness——” he began.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Highness!” she murmured in a low, trembling voice.</p> + +<p>As if oblivious of the consternation with which he +had inspired her, Westfall approached, and, taking her +hands, said gravely:</p> + +<p>“And now, your highness, permit an honored and +appreciative host—Hewitt Westfall—to welcome the +Princess Maranotti to the Barge of Haunted Lives, on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II"> + CHAPTER II +<br> +AT DESTINY’S CROSSROADS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>“And what is the Barge of Haunted Lives?” asked +the duckhunter, sharply.</p> + +<p>Westfall, looking thoughtfully at the floor, replied:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, I see,” exclaimed the duckhunter, moodily. “You +find diversion in the unravelling of other men’s mysteries.”</p> + +<p>“No. I simply afford them certain facilities for unravelling +such mysteries themselves.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span></p> + +<p>“It’s a queer sort of place you give to them in which +to do it,” growled the duckhunter, looking around dubiously.</p> + +<p>Westfall laughed quietly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Those statues without faces?” queried the duckhunter.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“And so, my dear Canbeck, you don’t like my statues,” +he said.</p> + +<p>The duckhunter shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I’m no judge of art, I’m afraid,” he answered surlily.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>“What became of him?” the matter-of-fact duckhunter +asked.</p> + +<p>Westfall shrugged his shoulders slightly, and an enigmatical +smile played for a moment on his lips.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span>small service, the last of the unhappy race gave the two +deathheads to me.”</p> + +<p>The young woman was staring, with wide, horror-stricken +eyes, at the deathheads.</p> + +<p>“But the armor—surely those suits did not belong—” +Canbeck began.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The single, searching eye of the duckhunter was gazing +now at the sarcophagus.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Two or three days!” exclaimed the duckhunter, +scowling. “I’m afraid, sir——”</p> + +<p>“Possibly four,” added Westfall, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>And now the fair aeronaut spoke.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“But I must know the names of those three,” the +young woman persisted, as the millionaire paused.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span></p> + +<p>“I beg of you to excuse me from revealing their names +until you have seen them.”</p> + +<p>The young woman turned to the duckhunter.</p> + +<p>“Am I right in assuming that I am under your protection, +Colonel Canbeck?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Perfectly,” replied the duckhunter, composedly.</p> + +<p>“Then,” said the young woman, “I will ask you to take +me from this boat.”</p> + +<p>The duckhunter turned to Westfall.</p> + +<p>“You have my reason, sir, for now wishing you good-night,” +he said gravely.</p> + +<p>Westfall, taking out his watch, glanced at it and +laughed quietly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The face of the duckhunter grew pale with anger.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean, sir, that I am not to be trusted—that +I——”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You are sure, then, that you are not in that category—in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“No—unless——” he faltered.</p> + +<p>Westfall nodded carelessly.</p> + +<p>“Yes—that’s it,” he said.</p> + +<p>With a low, half-smothered groan, Canbeck, still grasping +his fowling-piece, turned toward the door.</p> + +<p>“Stop,” said the young woman, quietly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>veiled in such a manner that you will not be recognized, +will enter this room and take the seat reserved for you.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The young woman gave utterance to a little cry, and +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“The Rajiid Buddha! In Heaven’s name is that the +man—the man who——”</p> + +<p>She paused suddenly and darted a quick, searching +glance toward Canbeck.</p> + +<p>“I know nothing of a Rajiid Buddha,” the duckhunter +explained.</p> + +<p>“But you have been in India?” the young woman asked, +with feverish haste.</p> + +<p>“Never, madame—never in my life,” the duckhunter +answered gravely.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span></p> + +<p>“Colonel Canbeck knows even less of the Rajiid adventure +than you do, madame,” Westfall explained.</p> + +<p>“But you—you do know something of it, then?” the +fair aeronaut asked, and, as she spoke, her color came +and went.</p> + +<p>“The narrative of that <ins id='cor_025' title='Original: adenture'>adventure</ins> 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.”</p> + +<p>“I will stay,” the fair aeronaut murmured faintly.</p> + +<p>“And you, Colonel?” queried Westfall, addressing the +duckhunter.</p> + +<p>“It is quite unnecessary,” said Canbeck in a low, uncertain +voice.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Canbeck shrugged his shoulders resignedly.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>many men and women of haunted lives who are willing +to tell you their troubles for your diversion.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>you did not see it when you came out from Sellersville +this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Well, these shooting things are all I have to wear out +here,” said Canbeck, apologetically.</p> + +<p>“More conventional garments await you in the room +which has been appropriated to your use,” replied Westfall, +laughingly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Who is this Harvette you are sending to me?” asked +the young woman, suspiciously.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Passing a hand nervously over his face, the Duckhunter +nodded, but made no verbal reply.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“There will be no introductions,” said Westfall, speaking +quietly. “I will indicate our friends as they come in, +however.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The Sentimental Gargoyle—with the Fugitive Bridegroom +just behind him,” said Westfall, explanatorily.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The Nervous Physician,” said Westfall, as a short, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>thick-set, gray-bearded man, with a quick, fidgety manner, +came down the steps.</p> + +<p>“The Hypochondriacal Painter and the Whispering +Gentleman,” Westfall went on.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The Homicidal Professor,” Westfall whispered.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>to manifest any interest in their extraordinary +environment.</p> + +<p>“Well, gentlemen, shall we be seated?” asked Westfall, +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“Are we all here?” asked the Whispering Gentleman, +in a loud, hoarse whisper.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At length the cigars were reached, and Driggs proceeded +to remove the last of the dishes. Then Westfall +said:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“The Veiled Aeronaut!” exclaimed the Gargoyle, +starting.</p> + +<p>Westfall frowned, as he went on:</p> + +<p>“That is the name by which the eighth guest will be +known to you, and our friend’s exclamation seems to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>The silence that followed remained unbroken for several +moments, then Westfall, who had turned towards the +doorway, rose gravely.</p> + +<p>“My friends,” he said, “the Veiled Aeronaut is now a +member of our company.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Exchanging covert, wondering glances, the other guests +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>reseated themselves. Westfall, standing at the head of +the table, addressed them.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>submitted to your attention. With your permission, therefore, +he will relate it to you now.”</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking, Westfall bowed gravely toward +the Fugitive Bridegroom, who, leaning with crossed arms +on the table, forthwith began his narrative.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III"> + CHAPTER III +<br> +THE MYSTERY OF A DERELICT + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I mention this fact because I want to make it clear +that, despite the earlier impressions made upon my mind +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span></p> + +<p>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 <ins id='cor_037' title='Original: enthusisatic'>enthusiastic</ins> 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.</p> + +<p>Arrangements for the cruise soon were completed, and +one sultry August morning Tallier’s steam yacht, the +<i>Powhatan</i>, with a congenial company aboard, put to sea.</p> + +<p>For two days all went well, but on the morning of +the third the <i>Powhatan</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>In the darkest night I ever had seen I was swimming +alone—in the open sea!</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>responsible for my plight, the <i>Powhatan</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>first immersed, now seemed of Gulf Stream warmth. +When I had entered the <i>Powhatan’s</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>Powhatan</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I was swimming beside the fire-scarred hulk of a +derelict, and into my mind flashed the suspicion that it +was with this the <i>Powhatan</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Swimming slowly along the hull, I had progressed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>and my soaked shoes, I seated myself and proceeded to +await the coming of dawn.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Powhatan</i>, 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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>the vessel? Why was it tied in that fashion to the +davit ring, instead of passing through a block?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was a bat.</p> + +<p>As I watched the thing, it darted toward the forward +part of the derelict and disappeared.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>mind in a manner that was productive of a sudden mental +shock.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>Half rising, I looked fearfully toward the doorless +doorway and shattered windows.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“It will come back,” I kept repeating.</p> + +<p>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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>Dread gave place to sleepless patience as I resumed my +vigil. But the thing for which I waited did not come.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Powhatan</i>, defending +myself against a giant seagull that had attacked me.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>There was a long interval of silence, then the blasts +were repeated, but I was unable to determine whether the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>sounds indicated that the unseen vessel was drawing +nearer. Four blasts were followed by another long period +of silence.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“You who would fresh water taste,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">’Mid this wreckage, warped and torn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall yield to me, before they waste,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A hundred blood-drops in the morn.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When I have had my full desire,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I will supply your every need.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet water then shall quench your fire</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And savoury food reward the deed.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely spoken when a young woman +entered the doorway.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>There was a sudden fluttering among the bats that had +found lodgment among the timbers at the top of the +room.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I live—I live again!” she murmured. “Already +Death’s dreadful fingers are beginning to relax their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>hold. You are breathing me back to life again—to live—to +live for you.”</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“But your hot flesh burns my hands. Your feverish +blood——”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>“Take it—take it, lad! Were the hampers of the +<i>Hannibal</i> so well filled that you have no need of the +bounty of the <i>Highland Lady</i>!”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>spoon and cup. The other, somewhat younger, was +dressed as a ship’s steward.</p> + +<p>“Is he coming round, Doctor?” asked a quiet, kindly +voice near the door.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When the cup of broth was empty, I besought the +physician for water and more food, but all my prayers +to him were vain.</p> + +<p>“In another half hour, perhaps, but not now,” he answered +kindly. “Your stomach is so weak that we must +wait a while.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> + +<p>Once more the horror of my terrible adventure on the +derelict overwhelmed me, and I lost consciousness.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I was told, too, that not once since I had been taken +from the derelict <i>Hannibal</i>, in mid-ocean, had I been +able to speak coherently. My name was unknown, and +the captain of the steamship <i>Highland Lady</i> had failed +to learn from me how it had come to pass that I had +“survived the fire that had destroyed the tramp steamer.”</p> + +<p>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 <i>Powhatan</i>.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Powhatan</i> went +down. I told them, too, of the manner I had climbed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“But how did you come by that wound in your arm?” +asked one of the physicians, when I had finished my +story.</p> + +<p>“The wound!” I exclaimed wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“In your right arm—yes. Did you not know it was +there?”</p> + +<p>I felt beads of perspiration gathering on my brow, +and my limbs began to tremble.</p> + +<p>“No,” I answered, weakly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At length, completely cured of the malady that had +threatened me with the loss of my arm, as well as the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Hannibal</i> +as one recalls the half-forgotten scenes of a nightmare.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Powhatan</i>, when one night in early +December, I attended a performance of “<i>L’Africaine</i>,” 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.</p> + +<p>But for only a moment did my gaze rest on this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Who are they, Kane?” I asked abruptly, turning to +my friend.</p> + +<p>“Tom Trevison and his sister,” he answered, shortly.</p> + +<p>“Trevison!” I muttered. “I have no recollection of +having heard of them before.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The curtain was about to go up, so we hurried back to +our box.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I inferred that, answering a question, he had told her +I was not a member of his guild.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I asked myself whether I was mad. If not, why +should I have walked the floor nearly all that night, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“It seems so strange, dear, that you should be more +nervous than I this morning,” she said. “Are you not +well?”</p> + +<p>There was a note of reproach in her voice, and, as she +attempted to withdraw the hand I held, I grasped it more +tightly.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>to which I had replied before. I am afraid that the +difficulty I found in giving variety to my replies made +me irritable.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“That we had met before!” I muttered. “Had we +met before I think I surely would have remembered it.”</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“It is no more than a mere fancy of mine, I suppose,” +she said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I was about to speak when the sounds of Italian voices +crying “<i>addios</i>” 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.</p> + +<p>The sound I heard was that of a concertina!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>In a voice that was so hoarse with emotion that it +did not seem to be my own I said:</p> + +<p>“Your suspicion was well-founded, madame. The +meeting in the Opera House was not our first.”</p> + +<p>Shrinking further from me, she murmured, with +trembling lips:</p> + +<p>“Yes—yes. I remember now. You are——”</p> + +<p>With a groan of horror and anguish, I turned from the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>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:</p> + +<p>“All off for the shore.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Hannibal</i> 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 <i>Hannibal</i>, and prior to the sinking of the <i>Powhatan</i>, +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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>away in the boat that had brought it, and the rope was left +hanging from the davit.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Hannibal</i>, 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.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>As the Fugitive Bridegroom finished his story, the +Nervous Physician leaned forward.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>Highland +Lady</i>?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I have not seen or communicated with any of them.”</p> + +<p>“But you have some reason to know that you were +the only person taken off the derelict?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. The newspapers published the captain’s story +before my identity was known. I was the only person +rescued from the <i>Hannibal</i>.”</p> + +<p>The Homicidal Professor was the next to speak.</p> + +<p>“And you are quite certain that, prior to the loss of +the <i>Powhatan</i>, you had not seen the young woman who +is now your wife?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Of that I am certain,” the Fugitive Bridegroom +replied in a tone of conviction.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span></p> + +<p>The Homicidal Professor nodded and settled back in +his chair.</p> + +<p>Westfall rose.</p> + +<p>“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 +<ins id='cor_067' title='Original: he'>be</ins> said to introduce the principals of this extraordinary +affair.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV"> + CHAPTER IV +<br> +THE SHADOW OF NEMESIS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>of several extended periods of travel, on foot and horseback, +in different parts of the world, I was the possessor +of an excellent physique.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ferguson?” I asked as I rose.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, I’m Ferguson,” he replied, half-absently. +“You are Forsythe, the traveler, I believe.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Neither of us spoke again until our cigars were lighted.</p> + +<p>“Well, now, Mr. Ferguson, what can I do for you?” I +asked, pleasantly.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“I want you to go with me to India.”</p> + +<p>“To India!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Yes. We’ll start to-morrow—on the <i>Camperdonia</i>. +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.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” I murmured, coldly.</p> + +<p>My visitor, apparently discomfited by my tone, looked +at me anxiously.</p> + +<p>“You have nothing else on, I hope,” he said, shortly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I will explain it,” he replied, promptly. “You have +been in India, I believe.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I.</p> + +<p>“While there did you visit the district of Nauwar?” +he asked.</p> + +<p>I told him I had not done so.</p> + +<p>“In that district is a village named Rajiid,” he went on.</p> + +<p>“I have heard of it,” I said. “It is there, I believe, +that the statue known as the Eyeless Buddha is to be +found.”</p> + +<p>My visitor looked at me coldly for several moments.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“The little knowledge I have of the place was obtained +from an old English colonel I met at Simla one Summer,” +I explained.</p> + +<p>“What did he tell you of the Eyeless Buddha?” asked +my visitor, carelessly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Did this Colonel tell you how they came to be lost?” +asked Ferguson.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span></p> + +<p>Ferguson nodded, compressed his lips slightly, then +rose and crossed to one of the windows. As he looked +out, I watched him curiously.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You have been in Rajiid?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” he replied. “Not only have I not been in Rajiid, +but I have never set foot in India.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you have reason to believe that this obscure +village possesses objects of exceptional interest,” I said.</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, and, for the first time since +he had entered the apartment, I saw him smile.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered. “If you will aid me in getting +possession of these objects, you will be well paid for +your trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, it is a speculative enterprise, then!” I murmured.</p> + +<p>“So far as I am concerned, perhaps it is,” he answered +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>“Why, then, do you require the key?” I asked +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>My visitor shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What is your purpose in leaving the ten thousand +dollars with me?” I inquired.</p> + +<p>“It will be yours when our work is done,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“You are willing to leave it in my care with nothing +more than a verbal understanding?” I asked wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well, Forsythe, what do you say?” he asked, as I +hesitated.</p> + +<p>I rose and for several moments I thoughtfully paced to +and fro.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> + +<p>“In short, then, it is your design to try and recover the +gems which formerly constituted the eyes of the Rajiid +Buddha,” I muttered.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” I answered shortly.</p> + +<p>“You will accompany me, then?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“And you will be prepared to sail on the <i>Camperdonia</i> +to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>“The vessel sails at noon,” he said.</p> + +<p>Then, thrusting a hand into an inside pocket of his +coat, he drew out a package and continued:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Placing this on the table, he drew from his pocket a +second package.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“But are we not to sail together on the <i>Camperdonia</i> +to-morrow?” I asked with some surprise.</p> + +<p>“Both of us will sail on the <i>Camperdonia</i>; 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 <i>Arran</i> for Bombay. +Though I will also be on the vessel, it is altogether +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>probable that you will not see me. Before we arrive at +our destination, however, we will be in communication.”</p> + +<p>He held out his hand, and, as I took it, he bowed +gravely.</p> + +<p>“<i>Bon voyage</i>,” he said, with a smile. And a few +minutes later I was alone, pondering over my strange +commission.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></p> + +<p>The following day found me aboard the <i>Arran</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Camperdonia</i>, +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter, man?” I asked. “Is this heat +knocking you out?”</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“Ferguson won’t join us at Bombay. We’ll have to +look for him at Aurungabad.”</p> + +<p>I gave a start, and looked at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> + +<p>“Then you know that——” I began.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes—I know everything,” he said, interrupting +me impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Is anything wrong?” I asked apprehensively.</p> + +<p>“Yes—no,” he faltered. “Well, there’s a Hindu aboard +who has just committed suicide. They’ll be dropping him +overboard presently, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Ferguson is aboard?” I muttered.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes—he’s aboard,” Blakeslee said, dryly, as he +turned away.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was well after midnight when, waking from a brief +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was not until the following afternoon that I again +met Blakeslee, who, on this occasion, greeted me with +much of his former cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>“Well, how is our friend to-day?” I asked quietly, after +we had exchanged a few commonplace remarks.</p> + +<p>An expression of sullenness crossed his face as he +answered shortly:</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“You haven’t seen him since yesterday?” I persisted.</p> + +<p>“I have not seen him since we came aboard the <i>Arran</i>,” +he replied.</p> + +<p>“But—well, then, how did you know about that Hindu +they buried last night?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>think the one that died yesterday was the only one we +had to fear.”</p> + +<p>For several moments neither of us spoke. I was the +first to break the silence.</p> + +<p>“Are we likely to encounter others whom we will have +to—fear?” I asked.</p> + +<p>Blakeslee laughed unpleasantly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>Blakeslee shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Our quest may prove hazardous, then,” I said.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I am not inclined to balk at it,” I retorted, “but, like +most men, I prefer meeting danger in the light rather +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span>than in the dark. A man always fights better when his +enemies and their methods are known to him.”</p> + +<p>Blakeslee was silent for several moments, then, with a +sigh, he said:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Despite a natural feeling of resentment, I affected to +treat the matter lightly, and the conversation soon turned +to other subjects.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“He will not?” I exclaimed in a tone of disappointment. +“The expedition is off, then?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>To this plan I readily assented, and as soon as we were +landed in Bombay I at once proceeded to put it into +execution.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>only a small part of the original building. In it, +however, stood the idol known as the Eyeless Buddha.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>this to me outside of India, and the ten thousand dollars I left with +you are yours.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Burn this note at once. Do not write to me. Ahmed-Kal will +report to me that he has seen you.</p> + +<p class="right"> + (signed) <span class="smcap">Ferguson</span>. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“The sahib has not burned it.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As soon as I told the temple’s custodian that I was a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>collector of jade idols, he hastened to remove these from +their niches and began to descant on their merits.</p> + +<p>“But these are not for sale,” I remarked.</p> + +<p>“The temple needs rupees, sahib,” replied the priest +in a soft, insinuating voice.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well, Forsythe, for better or for worse we’re in for +it now,” he said in a low voice that trembled slightly with +emotion.</p> + +<p>I looked at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Blakeslee glanced at me half-contemptuously.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Ferguson is seeking those lost eyes of the Buddha?” +I said.</p> + +<p>Blakeslee gazed at me fixedly, but did not answer.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>My companion’s gaze fell thoughtfully to the floor.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What reason is there for crossing trails when my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>reputation and the arrangements I have made with the +government officials appear to give us a clear course to +Calcutta?” I asked.</p> + +<p>Blakeslee shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>Arran</i>. 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?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” I began, but he stopped me with a gesture.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span></p> + +<p>An hour later we sat down to our evening meal, and +then proceeded to await the arrival of Ahmed-Kal.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well?” I demanded, rising quickly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Alarmed by the man’s strange attitude, I addressed him +impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Well, why do you not speak?” I asked.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Grasping him by one of his naked shoulders I shook +him vigorously.</p> + +<p>“Speak, man—your master—what has happened to +him?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>The Parsee gave utterance to a series of incoherent +sentences, then he again crossed his arms over his face.</p> + +<p>Again I seized him and shook his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Where is the Ferguson sahib?” I asked, in a threatening +voice.</p> + +<p>“They’ve killed him,” whimpered Ahmed-Kal.</p> + +<p>“Killed him!” Blakeslee and I exclaimed together.</p> + +<p>“Even so,” moaned the Parsee.</p> + +<p>The eyes that Blakeslee turned on me were dilated with +horror.</p> + +<p>“Dead—Ferguson!” he muttered. “No, no, no! This +man——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span></p> + +<p>“Not dead, sahib—not dead, for he still speaks,” +Ahmed-Kal interrupted.</p> + +<p>We looked at the Parsee with expressions of +bewilderment.</p> + +<p>“You said he was killed?” I suggested.</p> + +<p>“Even so, sahib. They have killed him, but he still +speaks, and he bade me summon you to come and see the +end.”</p> + +<p>“How the dev—” Blakeslee began.</p> + +<p>“There’s no use standing here trying to get rational +answers from the fool,” I interrupted. “Let’s mount and +follow where he leads.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“It is only the cry of a jackal, sahib,” said one of our +servants reassuringly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“This ground is sacred, sahib,” he explained. “None +save uncovered feet may tread this path.”</p> + +<p>I nodded; then Blakeslee and I alighted and, after +directing our attendants to await our return, we commanded +Ahmed-Kal to lead the way.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Following our guide, we had gone about a couple of +hundred paces when Blakeslee seized me by the arm.</p> + +<p>“Look!” he cried.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Blakeslee and I, followed by Ahmed-Kal, moved forward +uncertainly.</p> + +<p>“It’s Ferguson!” exclaimed Blakeslee in a hoarse +whisper.</p> + +<p>We quickened our steps, and in a few moments we +halted before the motionless and silent figure of our +friend.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span></p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” he commanded sharply. “Don’t touch me, +Forsythe. Step round in front of me. I cannot turn my +head.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Ferguson hesitated a few moments before he replied.</p> + +<p>“Ahmed-Kal was right. I have been slain.”</p> + +<p>“What madness is this?” I demanded, impatiently.</p> + +<p>“It is not madness, but truth,” Ferguson answered, +sadly. “I have been slain.”</p> + +<p>Blakeslee and I exchanged glances of horror. It was +plain that our friend had lost his reason.</p> + +<p>“Come, come, Ferguson, you would not have us believe +that we are talking with your ghost,” said Blakeslee, +indulgently.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Turning his haggard face to mine, Blakeslee said, +quietly:</p> + +<p>“Come, Forsythe, we must get him out of this.”</p> + +<p>Ferguson heard the words.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“It’s bleeding a little,” Blakeslee replied, speaking +thickly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>“What was the nature of the adventure?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>in the vicinity. He hesitated, but finally granted me the +favor that I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause; then I asked, nervously:</p> + +<p>“What is it you would have us do?”</p> + +<p>“Merely report my death to Ormond Dulmer, my +solicitor, in London. You will easily find him. You will +do this?”</p> + +<p>I hesitated; then I turned to the trembling Ahmed-Kal.</p> + +<p>“Bid our attendants come here as quickly as they can,” +I said to him. “They are armed and——”</p> + +<p>“Stop!” cried Ferguson. “Ahmed-Kal, stay here.”</p> + +<p>The Parsee, with a little cry, sank to the ground and +crawled toward Ferguson’s feet.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Stop—Forsythe—fool!” cried Ferguson desperately.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>assailant, a second blow felled me to the ground and I +became unconscious.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was the severed head of Ahmed-Kal!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At length I succeeded in whispering weakly:</p> + +<p>“Blakeslee Sahib? Have you seen him?”</p> + +<p>The native addressed shook his head negatively.</p> + +<p>“The sahib has not returned,” he said.</p> + +<p>As I glanced at the faces of the natives, I saw that a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had I lain down when one of my servants +appeared.</p> + +<p>“Will the sahib leave Rajiid before sunrise?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” I whispered. “We will wait.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The sahib need not rise,” said the jaboowallah gravely.</p> + +<p>But, giving no heed to his words, I sat up on the +blanket on which I had been lying.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing here?” I demanded in a whisper +that caused my throat to throb with pain.</p> + +<p>“I have come to the sahib to warn him,” my visitor +replied. “If he returns to his own country at once, no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>“Where is my friend—Blakeslee Sahib?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You miserable murderer—” I began, but, with +hardening features, the jaboowallah interrupted me.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking, the jaboowallah blew out the +candle that he held; then he passed out of the door.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>then, had he caused me to be subjected to treatment which +was responsible for the loss of my voice?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At length, despite my mental turmoil, I succumbed to +fatigue and physical weakness, and slept.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The horses are saddled, sahib,” he said quietly.</p> + +<p>“What time is it?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Two hours before sunrise, sahib.”</p> + +<p>As I looked at him searchingly, his gaze fell.</p> + +<p>“Who bade you prepare for the journey?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“The jaboowallah, sahib,” he answered.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Apparently the man did not observe my glance, for he +vouchsafed no explanation, and I asked no further questions.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The man looked at me with an expression of surprise as +he answered:</p> + +<p>“They are the brazier and the idols purchased from +the priest at the Rajiid temple.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>finished making an entry when an official returned to me my +passport, which he had <ins id='cor_101' title='Original: visèd'>viséd</ins>. 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.</p> + +<p>“It is the twenty-seventh, sir,” he said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“How long was I with the jaboowallah?” I asked +abruptly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“How did this happen?” he asked sharply. “The vocal +cords have been cut.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>I decided, reluctantly enough, to take his advice, and +five weeks later I was in London.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer raised a hand protestingly.</p> + +<p>“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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>Be good enough, please, to carry out his instructions to +the letter.”</p> + +<p>I looked at Dulmer searchingly.</p> + +<p>“You do not believe that Ferguson is dead?” I asked.</p> + +<p>Dulmer shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The brazier and the images were gone!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I reported my loss to the police; but from that day to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I remained indoors all day, and at night I went to a +neighboring haberdasher’s to purchase articles of wearing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>apparel, for I had left my room in New York with +scarcely more than the clothes I wore.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was the face of the jaboowallah of Rajiid!</p> + +<p>“The sahib will allow me to speak to him—in his +room?” the strange man asked gravely.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>For several moments I was too overcome by astonishment +and dismay to reply.</p> + +<p>“As you please,” I faltered as I turned the key.</p> + +<p>Then, leading the way, I conducted my persecutor to +my room on the second floor.</p> + +<p>I turned up the gas and faced my visitor.</p> + +<p>“What brings you here?” I demanded abruptly.</p> + +<p>“I seek the lost eyes of the Buddha, sahib,” the +jaboowallah answered.</p> + +<p>I looked at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“Why do you come to me?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Because I have learned the Forsythe Sahib has them,” +was the solemn answer.</p> + +<p>Utterly bewildered, I gazed into his burning eyes.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“The sahib cannot deceive me,” said my visitor, +sullenly. “Both gems have been in his possession. One +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The sahib has these, has he not?” the jaboowallah +asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The face of the jaboowallah grew darker.</p> + +<p>“Stolen!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“The loss was reported by me to the police, who say +they are trying to find the thief,” I explained.</p> + +<p>My visitor hesitated.</p> + +<p>“You will deliver the parcel to me?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” I replied, “but I will lead you to the vault, and +you may take it, if you will.”</p> + +<p>The jaboowallah nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>“Can you do this to-night?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“It will be impossible for me to have access to the vault +until ten o’clock in the morning,” I explained.</p> + +<p>“I will be here at nine,” the jaboowallah said.</p> + +<p>He bowed profoundly, and then, without further +words, he left me.</p> + +<p>I passed a restless night. In the morning I had breakfast +served in my room. At nine the jaboowallah +appeared.</p> + +<p>I summoned a taxicab, and, accompanied by my tormentor, +I went to Manhattan. By ten o’clock we were in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>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.</p> + +<p>Glancing at the box as my companion drew it out, I +saw that the seals, which Ferguson had affixed to the +bundle, were broken.</p> + +<p>“Some one else has been here,” I whispered, fearfully.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the jaboowallah blazed with anger.</p> + +<p>“We will see,” he said, as he unfolded the wrapping +paper.</p> + +<p>Within he found a package of banknotes—nothing +more.</p> + +<p>As calmly as he had taken out the box, the jaboowallah +returned it to its place. Then facing me, he said, quietly:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>All that remains of my terrible story may be briefly +told.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>had attempted to delude them when I reported the loss of +the articles from my room.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>When the Whispering Gentleman finished his narrative, +the Nervous Physician pushed back his chair impatiently, +and, rising, began to pace to and fro.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span></p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Duckhunter, turning to the Hypochondriacal +Painter, who sat beside him, muttered grumpily:</p> + +<p>“An insane asylum is the best place for him, after all.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“In Heaven’s name—where—how did you come by +these?” the Whispering Gentleman asked, tremulously.</p> + +<p>Westfall, laughing, shook his head.</p> + +<p>“For several weeks both were in your possession, my +dear Forsythe,” he said.</p> + +<p>“In mine?” exclaimed the Whispering Gentleman, who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>was now the incarnation of bewilderment. “Did the +jaboowallah——”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Ferguson!” hissed the Whispering Gentleman, tottering +backward as if he were about to fall.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Paula—my wife!” he muttered.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Pauline!” he gasped. “At last——”</p> + +<p>He was starting forward impulsively, when one of +Westfall’s hands fell on his shoulder.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p> + +<p>“Stop!” the millionaire said sharply. “You forget that +you promised me that you would not speak to her until I +bade you do so.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I will remain,” she said, determinedly. “It is better +that I should know all now.”</p> + +<p>Harvette retired, and the guests resumed their places +at the table. Then once more Westfall addressed them.</p> + +<p>“We will now hear the story of the Decapitated Man,” +he said.</p> + +<p>The ninth guest, resolutely turning his eyes from the +Veiled Aeronaut, then began an account of his adventures.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V"> + CHAPTER V +<br> +THE EYES OF RAJIID + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“There is no chance for me in the army, then?” I asked +sullenly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>There was something in his tone that caused me to look +at him with surprise.</p> + +<p>“Why should that possibility be regarded as an objection?” +I asked, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>Removing the eyeglasses he was wearing at the time, +he turned to me gravely, and, for several moments, he +gazed at me thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>As, leaning forward, I watched him earnestly, I saw a +strange, far-away expression come into his eyes, and the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span>hand that was toying with his watch-charm began to +tremble. After pausing for several moments, he went on:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Pausing again, he looked abstractedly at the wall; then, +rousing himself suddenly, he continued:</p> + +<p>“Were I to go into all details, the story would be a long +one, but I will tell it as briefly as I may.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>church at Hetley, in Northumberland, where his parents +and sister were entombed.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">My Dear Father</span>: 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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</p> + +<p class="right"> +Your unfortunate son,       <br> + (signed) <span class="smcap">Robert</span>.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Tears filled my father’s eyes as, in a broken voice, he +added:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span></p> + +<p>“And thus did I become the twentieth Earl of +Galonfield.”</p> + +<p>“My Uncle Robert’s body was never identified?” I +asked.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“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!</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>threatening me with death or financial ruin if I do not +relinquish the gems.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Do you believe my Uncle Robert is still alive?” I +asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>My father nodded.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></p> + +<p>For several minutes we sat in silence; then, rising, my +father laid a hand on my shoulder.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But this irresponsible mode of life was brought to a +sudden close when I received from my father the following +telegram:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>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.</p> + +<p class="right"> + (signed) <span class="smcap">Galonfield</span>. +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>American for a couple of years, and, naturally, our old +servants had dispersed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“Well, the devil take you, then. I’ll not be responsible +for the consequences.”</p> + +<p>Turning quickly, I addressed him again:</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with my father?”</p> + +<p>“He was stricken with heart trouble, ten days ago,” the +man replied. “Any excitement, however slight, is likely +to prove fatal to him now.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>before. This man was speaking, in a calm, low voice, but +I heard his words distinctly.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>A low cough behind me caused me to turn sharply. The +sound had been made by Dr. Tully.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was Simon Glyncamp, an American, who, two years +before, had created a sort of furor in Paris by his mind-reading +exhibitions.</p> + +<p>“Why are you here?” I demanded—half in anger—half +in wonder.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>I was about to speak when a low, shrill cry interrupted +me, and, with outstretched arms, my father, trembling +violently, rose from his chair.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>That a desperate attempt had been made to wring from +my father some sort of secret which his tormentors had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span>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?</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent4">STARS OF DESTINY.</div></div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Rare as two angel-tears congealed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Are those that flashed their light</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Just as great Buddha’s gaze revealed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Its splendors to men’s sight.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Immured within a human breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Down Tyneside one shall go.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis only when the truth is guessed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shall men behold its glow.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Let him who hath less haste than I,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Or deems himself less rich,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seek that from which in fear I fly—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The treasure in the niche.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Encompassed by the very walls</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Your temple-builders made,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ere death unto the finder calls,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Seize fast the long-tongued jade.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>While arranging my papers in the desk in my new +quarters, I found that among them were the verses from +the chart.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>the time, was destined to play an important part in the +history of my life.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“My wife was an Englishwoman.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” I murmured, faintly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Is your daughter’s English governess not with her?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>“No, my friend, her governess died last year.”</p> + +<p>“Well, surely, among the wives of your English +friends——”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Smiling thoughtfully, Meschid nodded.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Meschid and I smoked in silence.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>yashmak</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>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.</p> + +<p>Without rising, Meschid said quietly:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Rising clumsily, I took in mine the dainty, gem-covered +hand the young woman held out to me.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>She glanced half-timorously toward the Pasha, as if to +assure herself that her words had met with his approval.</p> + +<p>Meschid smiled grimly, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>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 <i>yashmak</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>In the course of the two hours that followed my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>introduction to this beautiful young woman, we conversed +on many subjects, and, incidentally, I learned that her +name was Pauline.</p> + +<p>“It is not a Turkish name, you know,” she explained +laughingly. “I was named after a relative of my +mother’s.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>How much of this the old duenna saw, we never knew.</p> + +<p>At length, however, there came a sudden awakening, +and I visited Meschid’s house no more.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>For several moments the silence that followed the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>discovery of Meschid’s presence was unbroken. The +Pasha was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“Well, your lordship, you see I trusted you,” he said +bitterly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Leave us,” Meschid said with an imperious wave of +the arm.</p> + +<p>Pauline, hesitating, turned to me. Taking her hands +I pressed them to my lips.</p> + +<p>“Whatever happens now, we shall meet again,” I murmured. +“No earthly power except your own can prevent +me from making you my wife.”</p> + +<p>With a little sigh, she turned to the door. Then, +followed closely by the duenna, she left the room.</p> + +<p>“Let us smoke,” the Pasha said, and, taking a cigar-case +from his pocket, he opened it and held it toward me.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> + +<p>I took one of the cigars and we sat down together on +one of the ottomans.</p> + +<p>“And so you want to marry her,” Meschid said, +gravely.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“You are asking me to yield to you the most beautiful +woman in the world,” he went on, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“I am well aware of that,” I said.</p> + +<p>“And you know that every pearl has its price,” he +added.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well, what is the price of this?” I asked him, sullenly.</p> + +<p>“The most valuable pair of diamonds known to man,” +replied the Pasha gravely.</p> + +<p>I started, and looked at him sharply.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span>to this jewel-seeker’s will? Or, ignorant of her father’s +base designs, had she really learned to love me?</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>Glancing toward Meschid, I saw he was watching me +stolidly.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>The Pasha shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Your lordship must find the way,” he answered, +shortly.</p> + +<p>“Do you believe they are already in my possession?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Have you reason to believe that they are in England?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How were you led to suspect that the secret was in +the possession of my family?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“That is my affair,” he retorted.</p> + +<p>For several moments both of us were silent. Then, +having thought calmly on the matter, I addressed him.</p> + +<p>“For many years men have suspected that two valuable +diamonds either were in my father’s possession or that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>“That responsibility I would assume most cheerfully,” +Meschid replied with a smile.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Meschid shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How much time may I have in which to attain my +object?” I asked.</p> + +<p>Again the Pasha shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span>have distinctive names. By what names are these known? +How am I to learn who had them last, and how they may +be identified?”</p> + +<p>The Pasha shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I have no information concerning these details,” he +said. “As I have said, it is your affair.”</p> + +<p>Meschid moved toward the door suggestively as he +spoke, but I, standing in the middle of the room, still +hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Will I not be permitted to see your daughter again +before she leaves London?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered with decision. “I will start for +Constantinople to-morrow, and she will go with me.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>Involuntarily I stopped. For several moments the mirrored +eyes gazed steadily into mine, then the face disappeared, +and I passed on.</p> + +<p>A black-garmented negro, gliding from a niche, met me +as, <ins id='cor_135' title='Original: decending'>descending</ins> 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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Startled by the strangeness of my greeting, my friend +looked a little alarmed at first, then, smiling, he said, in +his brusque, English way:</p> + +<p>“Well, Cecil, how are things with you? I was sorry +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span>to hear of your governor’s death. I knew it must have +cut you up a bit.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“How’s Cummings?” he asked, absently.</p> + +<p>Cummings, an inconsequential fellow, was an old classmate +of ours, of whom I had lost sight. His life had +never interested me.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span>complacency. Dominated by a spirit of irritation, I made +no reply to his suggestion. He flashed toward me a look +of earnest inquiry.</p> + +<p>“If you happen to have them anywhere about you, Cecil, +I’d sort of like to have a look at them,” he persisted.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” I answered, sullenly.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“No,” I replied.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well, Cecil, there’s something here,” he drawled, at +last.</p> + +<p>I stiffened suddenly. All my resentment left me now.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span></p> + +<p>“He calls them stars—stars of destiny,” I protested.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>I rose irritably.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s all nonsense!” I exclaimed. “If you are +going to undertake the thing at all, you’d better get on +another track.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>I went back to my chair. There seemed to be some +method in the madness of my friend, after all.</p> + +<p>“Well,” Blakeslee went on, “let us see how this first +verse goes when the lines are taken together.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“‘Rare as two angel-tears congealed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Are those that flashed their light</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Just as great Buddha’s gaze revealed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Its splendors to men’s sight.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Immured within a human breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Down Tyneside one shall go.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis only when the truth is guessed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shall men behold its glow.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>That’s clear enough, too—in a way.”</p> + +<p>“Clear enough!” I exclaimed in disgust. “It seems to +me that it makes everything more obscure than it was +before.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“From what part of Northumberland did Wortley +come?” Blakeslee asked sharply.</p> + +<p>“From a little village named Hetley,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“And he was buried at Hetley?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause, then Blakeslee said musingly:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span></p> + +<p>“I have heard of men swallowing diamonds in order to +hide them—though the act nearly always proved fatal, +but stars—never, Cecil—never!”</p> + +<p>For several moments I was speechless, and I felt drops +of perspiration gathering on my forehead.</p> + +<p>“Great Heavens, Blakeslee, you don’t think—” I began.</p> + +<p>“I’m only guessing, Cecil,” he answered gravely. +“Listen:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“‘Immured within a human breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Down Tyneside one shall go.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis only when the truth is guessed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shall men behold its glow.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>I’m only guessing, boy—I’m only guessing.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>With an exclamation of horror and impatience I rose.</p> + +<p>“The very idea is atrocious!” I said.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“No,” I murmured. “In view of the fact that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span>members of my family had the body brought from India, I +dare say the matter readily may be arranged.”</p> + +<p>Blakeslee nodded.</p> + +<p>“Well, there’s one of the gems accounted for,” he said. +“Now let’s see to the other one.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Let him who hath less haste than I,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Or deems himself less rich,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seek that from which in fear I fly—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The treasure in the niche.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Encompassed by the very walls</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Your temple-builders made,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ere death unto the finder calls,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Seize fast the long-tongued jade.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>All that’s plain enough, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>Throwing back his head, Blakeslee laughed loud and +boyishly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Fairly gasping for breath as the force of this interpretation +became impressed upon me, I voiced my last +protest.</p> + +<p>“But the jade—the jade—” I began.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>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’!”</p> + +<p>“That is all very well,” I muttered moodily, “but how +are we to know where to look for this temple?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Told me!” I exclaimed as I took the sheet that Blakeslee +held out to me.</p> + +<p>“You said, I believe, that you tried to find an acrostic +in the lines,” Blakeslee went on.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>I had one, and quickly placed it in his hands. Blakeslee +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span>turned the pages deliberately. At length he stopped and, +taking his pipe from his mouth, read aloud:</p> + +<p>“‘Rajiid, Nauwar: population, three hundred and +twenty-five. Shoorgai, forty miles.’”</p> + +<p>As he passed the open book to me, he added:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When Blakeslee left me, I at once proceeded to formulate +a general plan for the intended undertaking.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>I saw at once that it was all-important that I should +move with secrecy. Glyncamp was the man I most +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span>Meschid Pasha. Upon leaving London with the Pasha, +the mind-reader again had disappeared.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” Blakeslee gasped, and stopped.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></p> + +<p>“Why, the man looks as if he might have been alive +this morning!” I gasped.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“They cut his head a bit,” mused Blakeslee, as he +glanced at the dark hair critically.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely spoken, when, throwing back the folds +of the jacket, he exposed the bare torso of the still figure.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Blakeslee gave utterance to a little exclamation of dismay.</p> + +<p>“Some one has been here before us,” I muttered between +chattering teeth.</p> + +<p>“Give me the scissors,” directed Blakeslee grimly.</p> + +<p>I passed them to him, then, with trembling limbs, I, +too, knelt beside the box.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I tottered to my feet, and, as Blakeslee took one of +the dead man’s hands, I grasped the other.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, old chap,” Blakeslee murmured, addressing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span>the dead soldier. “Perhaps, some morning, the +same bugle music will wake us both.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Within the bag I found a roll of chamois-skin, and +in this a roll—a diamond.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Cecil, we must stop it!” he gasped, faintly. “If it is +seen——! Come, come, man—we must put it out!”</p> + +<p>We glanced around us with apprehensive, searching +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“You can’t keep it there,” said Blakeslee in a hoarse +whisper.</p> + +<p>“No,” I said. “To-morrow—to-day——”</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>“I’ve thought all that out, old man,” I answered, firmly.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do with it?” my friend demanded, +curiously.</p> + +<p>“I won’t tell you that,” I replied.</p> + +<p>An expression of wonder leaped into Blakeslee’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“You—you mean you dare not trust me!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Blakeslee nodded.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span></p> + +<p>“I’ll be out of England within the next twenty hours.”</p> + +<p>Blakeslee frowned.</p> + +<p>“You are going to the Continent?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How long will we be gone?” Blakeslee asked.</p> + +<p>“Three months.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>I grasped his hands.</p> + +<p>“And you are going to give the gems to the Pasha for +the girl?” he murmured, dubiously.</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>“Well, Cecil, either the girl is indeed an houri, or +you’re a fool,” Blakeslee muttered as he turned away.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>custodian of the Hetley stone or the place in which it might +be concealed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>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.</p> + +<p class="right"> + (Signed) B +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>to my credit in a Philadelphia bank. Two weeks later +this sum was at my disposal.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The lapidary appeared to be enthusiastic over the merits +of the imitations when he greeted me.</p> + +<p>“Were there two such real diamonds in existence, they +would be worth millions, sir,” he said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I expressed thorough satisfaction with the manner in +which the work had been done, and willingly paid the +price that had been agreed upon.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span>therefore, will restrict myself to a relation of my own +experiences subsequent to that interview.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Arran</i> when Forsythe boarded that steamer.</p> + +<p>Blakeslee, having obtained his furlough, secured a stateroom +near the second cabin quarters on the <i>Arran</i>. 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.</p> + +<p>On the <i>Arran</i> 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.</p> + +<p>My friend saw that I was recognized, and in obedience +to a warning signal from him, I retreated. That night +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span>the Hindu died under mysterious circumstances. He was +only an unknown Hindu, so the officers of the <i>Arran</i> +made no investigation. All happened very conveniently.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span>I might have purchased the jade idol and made my way +out of India.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>I shrugged my shoulders as I answered:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>I hesitated.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span>should know that I am dead than that they should spend +their fortunes seeking me.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“It shall be as the sahib has said,” the jaboowallah +replied, but, as he spoke, my heart grew still, for he +unsheathed a sword.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“And so shall the sahib await the coming of his +friends,” said the jaboowallah as, sheathing his sword, he +turned from me.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the sound of retreating feet died +away. I was alone.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I heard the horses stop in the road, and a few minutes +later I saw my friends approaching me.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Ahmed-Kal, who had attempted to defend himself, +was beheaded. Forsythe was borne away insensible.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Further tortures were now suspended, and I was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I was asked whether or not these were the stones I had +found in the wall. I replied that they were.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When I recovered consciousness, I found myself sitting +on the floor of a squalid room, and muttering +incoherently.</p> + +<p>“Give the sahib food,” a voice was saying.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The stranger was Glyncamp!</p> + +<p>Had I betrayed my secret? Whimpering and laughing +like a foolish child, I cried for food.</p> + +<p>It mattered not how much the American mind-reader +had learned from me, the knowledge came to him too late.</p> + +<p>A week later, shattered in health and mind, I crawled +out of the dark cave in which I had been confined. +Where were my <ins id='cor_164' title='Original: gaurds'>guards</ins>, 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.</p> + +<p>“Are you Galonfield?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes—yes—I’m—” I began falteringly.</p> + +<p>The man, bringing his heels together, saluted me as if +I had been an officer.</p> + +<p>“Your friend, Lieutenant Blakeslee, is here, sir,” he +said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What has happened?” I managed to gasp.</p> + +<p>“I got to Shoorgai, and brought down the boys,” he +said. “For two weeks we’ve combed the district in our +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>search for you. You are twenty miles from where I saw +you last. The jaboowallah fled—saw the game was up, +I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“And Glyncamp?” I asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Glyncamp hasn’t been here, old man.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I muttered, weakly. “Glyncamp has been here +and has learned all I knew.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">Your Excellency</span>: 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.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But I was still a marked man, and there were strong +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span>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.</p> + +<p>I now sent to an attaché of the British embassy at +Constantinople a letter in which I explained that I was +<ins id='cor_166' title='Original: bethrothed'>betrothed</ins> 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:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>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.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Prince Maranotti had been murdered at Basselanto +only a few hours before!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The second person under suspicion was an American +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span>college professor—Pietro Maranotti—a cousin to the +man who had been slain.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The silence was broken at length by Hewitt Westfall, +who, rising, said:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“Do I understand, sir, that the lady to whom you have +referred as ‘Pauline’ is—is my wife?”</p> + +<p>“Your wife!” exclaimed the Decapitated Man, looking +wonderingly at the Veiled Aeronaut.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“And I maintain, sir——” began the Fugitive Bridegroom, +impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Well, well, let the lady tell her own story,” interrupted +the Nervous Physician, pettishly. “Until then——”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>The guests thereupon rose, and, with bewildered faces, +made their way to their respective staterooms.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The guests then seated themselves in comfortable attitudes +and the Veiled Aeronaut began her story.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI"> + CHAPTER VI +<br> +A WANDERER FROM ARABY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Each week English and French newspapers were +brought to my mother’s room by respectful attendants, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span>and genii who lurked amid whispering trees and fragrant, +nodding flowers.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>yashmak</i>, or the graceful form that was enclosed by her +<i>farendje</i> were those of a daughter of Old England, who, +having been an unhappy Italian Princess, was now the +contented wife of a distinguished Mussulman.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The star of my destiny had risen, however. Meschid +had seen it, but not I.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>After we seated ourselves, Meschid looked at me long +and thoughtfully, without speaking.</p> + +<p>“Pauline,” he said, at length, “what is your faith?”</p> + +<p>It was the first time he ever had spoken to me on the +subject of religion, and I colored with embarrassment.</p> + +<p>“My mother died a Christian, did she not?” I murmured.</p> + +<p>Meschid nodded.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Then, after a little pause, he added, gloomily:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span></p> + +<p>“Your father is a Christian, too.”</p> + +<p>I did not reply to this, and for several minutes Meschid +sat looking abstractedly at the floor.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Most Moslem girls marry before they are sixteen,” +Meschid said, musingly. “You are nineteen, I believe.”</p> + +<p>The gates of Dreamland seemed to be opening their +<ins id='cor_177a' title='Original: side, were pointing to where the heroes who so often had'>portals to me now, and I felt as if peris, standing at my</ins> +<ins id='cor_177b' title='Original: portals to me now, and I felt as if peris, standing at my'>side, were pointing to where the heroes who so often had</ins> +visited my girlish fancies were gazing on me from the +mystic city’s walls.</p> + +<p>“Yes—yes, I know,” I faltered.</p> + +<p>“If you are to remain a Christian, you must have a +Christian husband,” Meschid said.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>“And I have one in view,” Meschid added.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Meschid rose.</p> + +<p>“We will start for England to-morrow,” he said.</p> + +<p>Involuntarily I clapped my hands.</p> + +<p>“For my mother’s country!” I exclaimed, half-joyfully. +“Ah, it must be very beautiful in England, for my mother +loved it so.”</p> + +<p>A frown settled on the Pasha’s face, and he looked at +me darkly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, sighing as he turned away. “Yes, your +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span>mother loved it—once. But, sometimes, I fancied she +was happy here.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When we had embarked on the steamer that was to +take us from the Bosphorus to Naples, I laid aside my +<i>yashmak</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>yashmak</i>, had +no opening for the eyes.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>yashmak</i>, but whose +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span>face it was that was concealed by the <i>yashmak</i> I did not +attempt to guess.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I then sought information concerning the black-garmented +woman I had seen.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span>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 <i>yashmak</i>. 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>My heart grew cold, and a sense of desolation entered +it. Then, suddenly, a wild rush of anger and indignation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span>choked me. It was not I, but the dowry he sought, that +had appeared so beautiful to his eyes.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—yes,” I murmured, eagerly.</p> + +<p>And the next morning we set forth for the distant +Orient.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>One day there came a knock on my door, and Meschid +entered.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>I saw that the article was an announcement of the death +of Prince Giuseppe Maranotti—my father.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The man before me was the one who, in the guise of a +Turkish woman, had been present at my interviews with +Lord Galonfield!</p> + +<p>In a low, brusque voice, my stepfather bade me remove +my veil. With trembling fingers I did so.</p> + +<p>“Pauline,” said Meschid, “this is Mr. Glyncamp, an +American, who has honored us by asking for your hand.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“No—no—oh, God, no!” I exclaimed. “Do not tell +me that! I cannot—I——”</p> + +<p>My stepfather laughed mirthlessly, and then said:</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span>which you will have a better claim than that which you +now have on mine.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I would flee from Meschid as my mother had fled from +my father.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>yashmak</i>.</p> + +<p>“You are Pauline?” the stranger asked, in English.</p> + +<p>The accents were soft and gentle, but I hesitated.</p> + +<p>“You are Pauline Maranotti?” the woman asked again.</p> + +<p>“Yes, madame,” I answered, faintly.</p> + +<p>“Let us walk on,” the other said in a low, confidential +voice. “I am from the Prince—your half-brother.”</p> + +<p>With a little cry that was almost a sob, I grasped her +arm.</p> + +<p>“He is here—in Constantinople?” I asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Once more fear gripped my heart.</p> + +<p>“How am I to know that you——” I began, but the +veiled stranger interrupted me.</p> + +<p>“Come with me to the carriage,” she said quietly. “You +shall be convinced before you confide yourself to my care.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span>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.</p> + +<p>With a little sob, I turned to my guide.</p> + +<p>“You may take me where you will,” I said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Little did I think when I saw the shores of America +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span>States, I, assuming the name of Trevison, as I am doing +now, may be recognized as your brother.”</p> + +<p>“You will be known by a false name over here, only in +order that you may aid me?” I asked, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>The Prince laughed gaily.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” he said. “Even if I had not brought you +with me I would have to be known as Trevison.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I do not understand,” I murmured, +wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span>still, after I catch up with him on the other side. Are +you going West this trip?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” asked my brother, who observed +that I had stopped.</p> + +<p>Quickly recovering my presence of mind, I laughed +nervously, and said:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>My brother, whose quick eyes had by this time discovered +the face that had caused me such consternation, +laughed lightly as he replied:</p> + +<p>“By Heaven, you are right! The man is a veritable +gargoyle.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>Alighting from a “buckboard,” one of the most torture-inflicting +vehicles in which man ever traversed rough +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Clapping my hands with delight, I laughed as I had not +done for many months.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Little by little I conquered the pleasurable fear with +which the dark recesses of the wood-clad slopes had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span>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?</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The envelope was unsealed, and, thrusting in my fingers +I drew out a sheet of notepaper on which were written +the following verses:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent4">TO PAULA</div></div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent12">Sleep,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the starlight shines,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like Faith, among the pines,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">To all revealing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy trust in man and maid.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And while from out the shade</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Of Earth are stealing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy thoughts that dreamward go,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I, keeping vigil, know</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Love’s bells are pealing.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent12">Wake,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the starlight dies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For then, athwart the skies,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Thy glances, streaming,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do prove thou art the sun.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now that his vigil’s done</div> + <div class="verse indent4">And thou art beaming,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fond Hope doth close his eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But, as in sleep he lies,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Of thee he’s dreaming.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Who had written them?</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span>had been in the neighborhood? Who was it who had +come to my window while I slept?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At breakfast I again inquired of Mrs. Seaver whether +any of the neighboring valleys was inhabited.</p> + +<p>She shook her head gravely.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>I resumed my breakfast, and for several minutes the +silence that followed remained unbroken. Mrs. Seaver +was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“You are going out to-day, Miss?” he asked.</p> + +<p>I felt my cheeks flush slightly as I answered:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, I am going to gather some lilies for my room.”</p> + +<p>The man rose, and, as he started toward my canoe to +run it down the beach, he glanced toward the southwest, +and hesitated.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The man shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“You are right, I know, so, though I see no storm +clouds, I will not go too far from the shore.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The valley in which Mrs. Seaver’s log-house stood was +about three miles long and two miles wide, and the lake +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>harem of Meschid Pasha, had been one of the lullabies +sung by my mother to each of her little ones.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span>had been before, I forced the canoe into the sluggish +current of the mysterious stream.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The speed of my canoe was gradually abating for, +half-overcome by distrust, I was paddling mechanically.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Before me lay the waters of Deadwood Lake and, as +I looked, I shrank back in affright. Trunks and roots +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“Is it god or man?” I whispered, and at that moment +I seemed to have my answer from the skies.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span>began to fall around me, and there came another gleaming +lightning flash.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Convinced that I was alone in the cave, I wiped away +some of the dust that darkened one of the window panes. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>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.</p> + +<p>I was confronted by a serpent—a serpent which, by +the description I had heard of it, I knew to be a copperhead!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span>of the serpent had changed all, and once more I stood at +one of the portals of Eden.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span>temperature that had accompanied the terrible storm, the sun +now was blazing fiercely.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“And while from out the shade</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of Earth are stealing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy thoughts that dreamward go,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I, keeping, vigil, know</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Love’s bells are pealing.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At length I came to the close of the last verse:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Now that this vigil’s done,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And thou art beaming,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fond Hope doth close his eyes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But, as in sleep he lies,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of thee he’s dreaming.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>As the last note left my lips, I stood and listened. +Then I started.</p> + +<p>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”?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Twice or thrice I tried to speak, but the words would +not leave my lips. Why did this stranger remain standing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Your hand is on me, Glenagassett,” he said.</p> + +<p>Though he spoke quietly, there was an unmistakable +note of imperious rebuke in the clear, musical voice, and +the hand of the Indian fell.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied the Indian, gravely.</p> + +<p>The white man turned again to me.</p> + +<p>“What brought you here?” he asked, almost roughly.</p> + +<p>“I came this morning in my canoe, but, in the storm, +it was lost somewhere in that mass of reeds.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you not get it out?” he demanded, shortly. +“Go—get it now.”</p> + +<p>I looked at him in wonder. Was I talking with a +madman?</p> + +<p>As I hesitated, he shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes, I remember now,” he said. “You women +are too weak to do such things. Glenagassett, bring out +the canoe.”</p> + +<p>The Indian hesitated, then, with stooping shoulders, +he turned and moved quickly to the waterside.</p> + +<p>The white man, reaching out one of his hands, firmly +grasped my arm and turned me so that the moonlight +shone upon my face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Suddenly realizing that I was in the clutches of a +victim of insanity, I began trembling violently.</p> + +<p>“You will sing again?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Not now,” I faltered.</p> + +<p>“But I bid you,” he said, sharply.</p> + +<p>“I cannot sing,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“Even now I watched and heard you,” he retorted +angrily. “In this valley I am lord. I am Rayon Demain. +You will sing.”</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“If all devils are like you, it is small wonder that men +confuse them with the angels and give their souls into +their keeping.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span>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.</p> + +<p>My heart leaped within me, for I felt that the hour +of my deliverance was at hand.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Rayon!” exclaimed the newcomer, sharply.</p> + +<p>The young man turned quickly to the speaker.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>From the great wilderness around me there came no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span>sound. Deserted by him to whom my song had been +addressed, I stood alone in the shadow of the great, dark +precipice.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Paula!”</p> + +<p>The word was so softly spoken that I half believed +I had been deluded by my fancy.</p> + +<p>“Paula!”</p> + +<p>I turned again to the evergreens, but no human figure +met my view.</p> + +<p>“Well?” I asked, abruptly.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>I hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I entered the canoe resolutely, and, in obedience to the +instructions I had received, I sat down on the forward +seat.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Having arrived at last at the channel, the bow of the +canoe was quickly swung around and, with a speed which, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span>in other circumstances, I would have thought incredible, +the little craft, gliding over the swollen current, moved +in the direction of the lower lake.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Thus far the only sounds that gave evidence of the +presence of my boatman were the strong, even strokes of +his double-bladed paddle.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“Have a care! Remember the warning!”</p> + +<p>A cold chill passed over me, as I replied, contritely:</p> + +<p>“Someone is calling. Perhaps Mrs. Seaver’s servants +are seeking me.”</p> + +<p>“They have sought you all the afternoon, but the lake +has been very rough, and one of their boats was capsized.”</p> + +<p>In my anxiety I half turned again.</p> + +<p>“But those in it got ashore?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes.”</p> + +<p>“Will you let those who are seeking me know that I +am safe?” I asked.</p> + +<p>The unseen boatman hesitated.</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered, quietly, “It is too soon to tell them +now.”</p> + +<p>For several moments we were silent.</p> + +<p>“Why did you go to Deadwood Lake?” my boatman +asked.</p> + +<p>My cheeks began to burn, but something in me told me +it was best to tell the truth.</p> + +<p>“I thought I might see the man who was described +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span>as so ‘strangely handsome’,” I replied. “If I had known +that there were genii there, I would not have gone, of +course.”</p> + +<p>“If who were there?” asked the boatman.</p> + +<p>“Genii.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause.</p> + +<p>“Ah, you believe in the genii, then?” he said, in a lower +voice.</p> + +<p>“Having seen them, can I believe anything else?” I +murmured.</p> + +<p>“You are from the East—the Orient?”</p> + +<p>“From Constantinople,” I answered, wonderingly. “Do +you not know?”</p> + +<p>“I know a little, but you must tell me more.”</p> + +<p>From across the widening waters came the voices of +men who called my name. To these my boatman gave +no heed.</p> + +<p>“Tell me why you left Constantinople—why you are +here,” he persisted.</p> + +<p>Then, as briefly as I could, I told him all.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When I was done, another silence fell. Then the boatman +spoke.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span>the first song of yours brought me to your side. But +you must go there no more.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>There was a long pause before he answered me.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>“Until then?” I murmured.</p> + +<p>“Until then I must continue to suffer.”</p> + +<p>“And how may this enchantment be broken?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“By marriage.”</p> + +<p>“By marriage!” I exclaimed, wonderingly. “With +whom?”</p> + +<p>“With you,” he murmured, softly.</p> + +<p>I started, and once more I was about to turn my head +when the strange companion cautioned me.</p> + +<p>“You must not see me,” he said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“With you,” my boatman repeated, softly. “Do you +pity me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—yes,” I answered. “How could I fail to pity +you?”</p> + +<p>I was trembling violently, and even the fresh night +airs were stifling me.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“You are not taking me home,” I murmured.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span></p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I faltered.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“You will not give me your answer now?” my boatman +asked.</p> + +<p>With a little shrug of the shoulder, I said faintly:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The strokes of the paddles ceased abruptly, and a great +silence fell around us.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“I am to marry you then?” I murmured.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will be there,” I said.</p> + +<p>A voice from the boat that followed cried:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span></p> + +<p>“Miss Trevison.”</p> + +<p>“You may answer,” said my boatman, “but do not turn +your head.”</p> + +<p>“I am here!” I cried.</p> + +<p>A few vigorous strokes of the paddle brought my +canoe to the shore.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, Paula,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, Rayon Demain,” I murmured, with a +sigh.</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Trevison!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I am here,” I called back to them.</p> + +<p>In a few moments the bow of the boat was against the +bank.</p> + +<p>“Who was that man that brought you here?” one of the +men asked, shortly.</p> + +<p>“An Indian,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“You have been to Deadwood Lake?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I answered, coldly. “I was just entering it +when the storm overtook me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span></p> + +<p>The moonlight enabled me to see a strange look settle +on the face of the man who had questioned me.</p> + +<p>“I told you, Jim, no good would come of it,” the other +muttered, surlily.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Why did you go there?” asked my hostess, looking +at me curiously.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You must not go again,” Mrs. Seaver said, thoughtfully. +“You will promise me you will not go?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, I’ll promise you that,” I answered, laughingly.</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>An hour later, when the lamp in my room was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>Drawing out a sheet of notepaper, I read:—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent4">THY GONDOLIER</div></div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Glide thou o’er moonlit waters where</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The lilies wake to see thee pass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And swing their censers to the air</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As acolytes at Beauty’s mass;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or move thee on the tide of dreams</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In stately barge; or, if in fear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou art on storm-swept lakes or streams,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Let me be e’er thy gondolier.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">While Spring doth shine from out thine eyes,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While brightly beams thy Summer’s sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And loving friends around thee rise,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I’ll deem my lifelong task begun.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then, when exposed to Autumn’s breath,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Other loves and faiths grow sere—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ay, when chill Winter comes, with Death,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">They’ll find me still thy gondolier.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“Pauline,” it said softly.</p> + +<p>The voice was one that I could not have mistaken +anywhere.</p> + +<p>“I am here,” I answered, firmly.</p> + +<p>“Do you remember?” asked the voice, and I detected +a note of warning in its tone.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said.</p> + +<p>I heard the sound of approaching footsteps, but I did +not raise my eyes.</p> + +<p>“This is Dr. Belford,” the voice went on. “He is a +clergyman, and will marry us.”</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“I do now pronounce you man and wife.”</p> + +<p>And so I had my fairy prince at last!</p> + +<p>A great silence fell around me, then I heard the voice +of the man who was now my husband.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>I heard him turn away.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, my dear,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, Rayon,” I answered, humbly.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span>a few paces, however, when from the direction of the +log-house there came the sound of a pistol shot.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The structure was in flames!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As I hurried forward, I recognized the perpetrator of +the terrible act, and, in a shrieking voice, I cried:</p> + +<p>“Rayon—Rayon—are you mad?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Never shall I forget the awful expression that I saw +upon his face as, standing before me, he looked into +my eyes.</p> + +<p>“Come—devil or angel—you belong to me now,” he +said, laughing roughly. “To-night I have declared myself +free.”</p> + +<p>As he grasped one of my arms it seemed to me that +his fingers were burning their way to its bone.</p> + +<p>“Stop—stop—coward—help me!” I cried at the top +of my voice.</p> + +<p>The lips of the magnificent fiend again parted in a +smile.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he began, but he said no more.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>“Are you hurt?” he asked in an abrupt, thick voice.</p> + +<p>“No—no, but Mrs. Seaver! She——”</p> + +<p>The Gargoyle, laying one hand on my shoulder, pointed +to the milk-house, and said:</p> + +<p>“She is safe. Go to her.”</p> + +<p>Rayon, who for a few moments had appeared to be +insensible, now began to rise.</p> + +<p>“Go!” the Gargoyle repeated, sharply.</p> + +<p>I needed no further urging, and several seconds later +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“Who has done all this?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“The demons from the valley,” she sobbed. “It was +the Indian who set fire to the house. The other—the +white man——”</p> + +<p>James, one of the menservants, came running up.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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 +<ins id='cor_228' title='Original: Gargoylle'>Gargoyle</ins>.</p> + +<p>“’Tis the devil himself!” James muttered between his +chattering teeth.</p> + +<p>With a little cry of terror, Mrs. Seaver hid her face +in her hands.</p> + +<p>For several moments the strange being before me +looked meditatively at our little group. Then, turning +quickly, he strode off into the forest.</p> + +<p>“Oh, James—James, you must get us away from +here to-night—now!” cried Mrs. Seaver desperately. +“Where is George?”</p> + +<p>James, turning his face toward the lake, shrugged his +shoulders slightly, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>“Dead?” I asked in a trembling voice.</p> + +<p>James faced me slowly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss,” he said, quietly. “The white devil killed +him—with an axe.”</p> + +<p>“And Mary?” Mrs. Seaver faltered.</p> + +<p>“She tried to shoot him, but he was too quick for her,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span>said James. “She, too, went down.” Then, turning to +me, he added, abruptly: “He was seeking you, Miss. I +was afraid——”</p> + +<p>I could hear no more. The ground seemed to give +away beneath my feet, and, tottering forward, I stumbled +and fell.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Where are we going?” I asked faintly, as I sank on +a roll of blankets.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The cavern contained several galleries, and there were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As may be readily understood, the secret of my night +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>While the lawyer was with me, I succeeded in restraining +my feelings, but as soon as he was gone a spirit of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Having taken this resolution, I decided to act in accordance +with it without delay.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span></p> + +<p>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, <i>Highland Lady</i>.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Highland Lady</i>. +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.</p> + +<p>The offer was made impulsively, and I was a little +startled when the doctor said:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When all was done, I left the stateroom, just as a +steward entered it with a bowl of steaming broth.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The <i>Highland Lady</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Hannibal</i>, I saw an +account of how an American ship captain had sent a +man aboard the <i>Hannibal</i> 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 <i>Hannibal</i> had been abandoned +by its crew, and before it had been sighted by the +<i>Highland Lady</i>, the fact that the presence of the famished +man we took off had not been discovered, struck me as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span>extraordinary. It did, however, account for the unburned +rope which we had seen trailing from the davit.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The report was brief and I read the lines without +emotion. My love for this misguided man was only +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The circumstances incident to the manner in which +Mr. Wadsworth wooed and wed me have been related +by that gentleman himself.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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 <i>Highland +Lady</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I quickly opened the envelope, and, as I drew out the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span>sheet it contained I saw it contained more verses from +the hand of Rayon Demain!</p> + +<p>With a cry of anguish, I sank insensible to the floor.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>What would this good woman have said if I had told +her I was a bigamist?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span>said—whom I might chance to meet one day. He advised +me, however, not to take this man into my confidence.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span>Janot smiled grimly and avoided my gaze as he continued +to manipulate the mechanical devices with which he was +surrounded.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span>boat ready for service. As I looked at them wonderingly, +Mr. Janot said:</p> + +<p>“Something serious has happened. The motors are +overheated and the machine is unsafe. We must get +you ashore at once.”</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span>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.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well, sir—well?” demanded the Nervous Physician, +irritably. “We are now prepared to hear your explanation, +I believe.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Then my—my doubts—my horrible suspicions—were +only the results of delirium, after all,” he said, in a hoarse, +broken voice.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span>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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Homicidal Professor leaned forward.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>Westfall shook his head gravely.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“We will now hear the story of the Hypochondriacal +Painter,” said Westfall.</p> + +<p>The Hypochondriacal Painter stroked his white beard +meditatively for a few moments, then, in a deep, mellow +voice, he began:</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII"> + CHAPTER VII +<br>THE IMAGE OF GOD + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was the cry of a new-born child!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>A new idea now flashed into my mind, and, as I +thought, I slowly descended the ladder.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I took the infant from its dying mother’s arms, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span>daily beseeching him to exert in their behalf his god-like, +dormant power.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Shall I kill her?” Glenagassett asked me, eagerly.</p> + +<p>But—still a fool—I told him ‘no’—to wait and see.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Hurrying down the shore, I ran like a madman toward +the place from which the voice was rising—the very spot +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span>on which I stood when I first delivered the little Rayon +into the keeping of Glenagassett.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The first song had ceased, then, after a pause, the voice +of the singer rose again. She was singing “The Lost +Chord.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Despair suddenly gripped my heart as I realized that +the woman was no less beautiful than her wondrous +voice!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At the cavern entrance he turned.</p> + +<p>“Are all the devils as fair as that?” he asked.</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” I answered, gravely. “The fairest has been +sent to tempt the strongest man.”</p> + +<p>He looked at me long and steadily.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Returning to the cavern I woke Glenagassett.</p> + +<p>“The women must leave the valley below,” I said.</p> + +<p>“They shall go,” Glenagassett answered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span></p> + +<p>Not once on the following day did Rayon speak to me. +At night he retired early to his chamber.</p> + +<p>The following morning, when I saw Glenagassett, I +said:</p> + +<p>“The women are not gone.”</p> + +<p>“They will go to-night,” he replied, gloomily.</p> + +<p>I nodded, and passed on. That day Rayon started off +alone, but the Indian followed him. In the evening +Rayon came to me.</p> + +<p>“Does the Prince of Evil always look like the pictures +we see of him, Nathan?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I think so,” I answered. “But why do you ask me +that?”</p> + +<p>“Because I’ve seen him,” he muttered, thoughtfully. +“He haunts her every night, and——”</p> + +<p>“Haunts who?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“The woman.”</p> + +<p>“Well, may he take her, then!” I retorted, irritably.</p> + +<p>“Do you think he will?”</p> + +<p>“I have not the slightest doubt that he will get her +eventually,” I muttered.</p> + +<p>“The Prince of Darkness must be tamed,” he said, +gloomily. “We’ll see to that—<ins id='cor_250' title='Original: Glanagassett'>Glenagassett</ins> and I.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“You have been going to the log-house at night?” I +asked.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“He feels as you must never feel, Rayon,” I replied, +looking at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span></p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—yes,” I faltered. “But——”</p> + +<p>“Then I have felt it, Nathan,” he went on, gravely. +“I have been a coward.”</p> + +<p>“In Heaven’s name, Rayon!” I began, but, with one +of his imperious gestures, he silenced me.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Come—Rayon, Rayon!” I muttered, protestingly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Did he speak?” I asked, sharply.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>After a pause, Rayon went on:</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“At last I heard his voice. It was so different from +yours or Glenagassett’s—so much like my own—that it +startled me.</p> + +<p>“‘Let us stop here,’ he said.</p> + +<p>“I halted, and, as I turned to him, I saw his back was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“‘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.’</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span></p> + +<p>Trembling with astonishment and anger, more than +fear, I laid a hand on one of his broad shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Rayon—Rayon—are you mad?” I gasped.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Yes, mad—mad—mad—you old fool graybeard—mad!” +he cried. “But I am not half so mad as you would +make me.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When, at last, quivering with physical pain and mental +anguish, I scrambled to my feet, I saw I was alone.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Glenagassett undoubtedly was in the lower valley, and +Rayon was now well on his way thither. What would +happen if they met?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>My strides soon quickened to a run. Then, losing +breath, I slackened my pace to a walk again. On and on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span>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.</p> + +<p>It was the sound of a pistol shot, and, as I listened, +others broke the stillness of the night.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I will sleep,” I murmured. “All is well. Glenagassett +has triumphed, and the woman—the woman——”</p> + +<p>Ay, I slept, and when I woke the sun was shining.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span>far distant from those from which I had been wont to +approach Deadwood Valley.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>There was a little pause, then, as no one seemed inclined +to speak, Westfall nodded toward the Duckhunter, +who forthwith began his story.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII"> + CHAPTER VIII +<br> +ON DESERT SANDS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>This order directed me to proceed without delay to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span>heat would enable him to work off the ill effects of +the liquor he had taken.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The hammer fell on an empty chamber. The half-breed, +with his weapon pointed at my breast, laughed +tauntingly, but held his fire.</p> + +<p>Again I pressed my trigger, and again the hammer +clicked.</p> + +<p>“One mule—you; four mule—Jim.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>A few feet distant from the entrance to the burrow, +and lying at full length on the ground, was the body of +a man.</p> + +<p>A mere glance at the swollen face convinced me that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span>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:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>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.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I killed the reptile, then, glancing at the grave I had +dug, I muttered:</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose I’d better make it big enough for +two.”</p> + +<p>With my handkerchief and a stick I made a tourniquet +above the wound. I was tightening this when I heard +a voice ask, quickly:</p> + +<p>“What are you doing there?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“A rattler has just bitten me,” I explained, as quietly +as the other had asked the question.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span></p> + +<p>“The devil!” Farnley muttered, in a sympathetic voice. +“What are you doing for it?”</p> + +<p>“Holding off the end a little while,” I replied. “That’s +all a fellow can do under the circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“You fool, why don’t you suck out the poison?” Farnley +asked, impatiently, as he returned his revolver to his +belt.</p> + +<p>“I can’t reach it,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“Who’s that man—the dead one?” Farnley demanded, +suddenly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You were prospecting for gold?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I answered.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Drink it all,” he said, as he tightened the tourniquet.</p> + +<p>As I gulped down the liquor, he added, cheerfully:</p> + +<p>“You’ll be all right now, my man. Have you any +coffee in your shack?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll see,” I said, and started to rise.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” he exclaimed. “I’ll go.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>His handsome face grew as dark as a thunder cloud.</p> + +<p>“What the devil is all this?” he growled.</p> + +<p>“It means that I, Roger Canbeck, am a Secret Service +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span>officer, and that I hereby arrest you, William Farnley, +on three charges of murder,” I replied.</p> + +<p>For several moments he gazed at me steadily, then he +looked thoughtfully at the ground.</p> + +<p>“Well, what is it you want me to do?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“You must ride with me to-night across the desert.”</p> + +<p>He broke into a laugh—so light and boyish that it +startled me.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As my gaze fell to him again, I saw he was looking +at me, and was smiling feebly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you resist me?” I whispered, hoarsely.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span>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.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“We will hear from the Gargoyle now, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>Westfall nodded gloomily.</p> + +<p>“Yes, my friends, if that is your pleasure,” he +answered, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX"> + CHAPTER IX +<br> +THE QUEST OF THE BEAUTIFUL + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span>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?</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span>to yield to men some of the treasured knowledge of +the gods.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span>mother, from laughing children and—another. When +I wake it is to seek things that are beautiful.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>One day, while we were chatting together, Glyncamp +asked me what was the dominant purpose of my life. +I replied:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Glyncamp laughed quietly.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>I looked at him incredulously.</p> + +<p>“You have seen them?” I asked wondering.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How did you come by this knowledge?” I asked.</p> + +<p>The American looked at me sharply.</p> + +<p>“That, my friend, is my affair,” he answered, curtly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Would you take a journey to see this wonderful +man?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I would travel around the world to see such a man,” +I replied enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>“You would go to the United States.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And report to me concerning what you saw?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>I accepted the conditions, and two days later I was on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I was now confronted by the greatest dilemma I ever +had faced in my life. Should I follow the painter or the +young woman?</p> + +<p>I decided to follow the woman.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span>expression of admiration when I realized my danger and +restrained my emotions.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I had not expected you so soon, Nathan,” was all he +said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Such, then, was my first view of Rayon Demain.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But by the time the moon rose I altered my purpose. +Though I came to the mountains without luggage, I had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At length, however, I stopped abruptly. Stealing softly +to me through the forest-odored air came the sweet notes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Once more I was on the point of turning away from +the enchanting scene when something moving on the lake +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was the Indian I had seen in the Valley of the Perfect +Man!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span>blinded by an effulgence that was more dazzling than the +noonday sun.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span>abnormalities of his new master, I followed a trail which, +for a considerable distance, ran parallel with the railway.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span>hideous human features in all the world, exult to find +that she still was unwed?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Thus far all had gone well, but, in less than five minutes +after the conclusion of the ceremony, my dream fabric +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span>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.</p> + +<p>It was Rayon Demain!</p> + +<p>I hurried after him, and thus came to the log-house.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When my senses returned to me I was in a comfortably +furnished bungalow which, I soon learned, was the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span>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.</p> + +<p>Three weeks later I was in New York. There, after +many unsuccessful efforts, I learned that Miss Trevison +had gone to Europe.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span>she disappeared the day after she received it, and I learned +she had gone to Europe. Once more I went to Italy.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“And so the Princess is the wife of the Gargoyle, after +all,” hissed the Whispering Gentleman, as he turned +toward Westfall.</p> + +<p>“No, no, it is impossible!” exclaimed the Fugitive +Bridegroom, distractedly.</p> + +<p>“If she isn’t, it’s not you, who deserted her, but the +man who went through fire and water to get the Rajiid +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span>diamonds for her, who ought to have her,” growled the +one-eyed Duckhunter.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Killed her brother!” exclaimed the Decapitated Man, +wonderingly.</p> + +<p>The Nervous Physician nodded, then, giving a sudden +start, he glanced apprehensively over his left shoulder.</p> + +<p>“You knew you were under suspicion, did you not?” +asked Westfall, addressing the Sentimental Gargoyle.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>The Gargoyle stiffened in his chair.</p> + +<p>“Who was the gentleman of whom you speak, sir?” he +demanded, sharply.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is well that you tell your story now, +Doctor,” said Westfall, gravely.</p> + +<p>The Nervous Physician nodded. Then, in quick, +nervous accents, he began his narrative.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X"> + CHAPTER X +<br> +AT THE END OF A TRAIL + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span>of the Galonfield family was more than probable. Accordingly, +he went to England.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I met Glyncamp on his arrival in England and when he +told me what he had done, I gazed at him in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Do you so love the woman that you would give the +diamonds for her?” I asked.</p> + +<p>He laughed heartily.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span></p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“But the woman!” I persisted. “What is to become +of her?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>My eyes were wide with wonder and incredulity. Glyncamp, +watching my face, laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>“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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span>No, no, my boy, the excitement of the chase is all I +require. The fox and his brush can go to the dogs.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The mind-reader scowled darkly as he muttered:</p> + +<p>“I wonder if we will find the other one in a tomb.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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——</p> + +<p>And so I decided to accompany him.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Glyncamp and I were hiding near at the time that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span>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.</p> + +<p>But, as Lord Galonfield has said, all that Glyncamp +was able to wring from him was too little and too late.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Where are we, Doctor?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Just coming in sight of Long Island,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Murderer—Grenault!” I repeated.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</span>in jeopardy by confronting him before his anger subsided.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I secured a stateroom elsewhere, and, until the vessel +docked at New York, I kept to it.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Come, Doctor—come—quickly,” he said, excitedly.</p> + +<p>“What is the trouble?” I asked calmly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</span></p> + +<p>But Prellis had disappeared. Adjusting my spectacles +carefully, I followed him.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Glyncamp—alive!” I gasped.</p> + +<p>A glance showed me that Felkner, beginning the +operation with a deep, rapid incision, had inflicted a mortal +wound.</p> + +<p>Glyncamp, fixing his great, gleaming eyes on me, said +in a low, resonant voice:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>He stiffened suddenly and his chin sank to his breast, +but, even then, as the lustre faded from his eyes, they still +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</span>seemed to be staring at me from beneath their shaggy +brows.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The narrator paused, and for several moments no +word was spoken.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>The Nervous Physician glanced over his left shoulder +and dodged slightly as if some one behind him had +threatened him with a blow.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” he replied, easily. “Among other things, +I have the left hand intact. The right, however, and +portions of the——”</p> + +<p>“Stop!” commanded the Sentimental Gargoyle, imperiously. +“When a man learns that such miserable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</span>creatures inhabit the earth, he may not find it so difficult +to leave it.”</p> + +<p>“You do not doubt that I—” the Nervous Physician +began.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Nervous Physician, turning slowly livid, rose +unsteadily.</p> + +<p>“Do I understand that you, the murderer of Prince +Maranotti, charge me——”</p> + +<p>“He is not the murderer of Prince Maranotti,” said +a quiet voice from one end of the table.</p> + +<p>All eyes were turned toward the man who had spoken. +It was the Homicidal Professor.</p> + +<p>“On what authority do you contradict me, sir?” demanded +the Nervous Physician, angrily.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You were there?” asked the Nervous Physician, incredulously.</p> + +<p>“Unfortunately—yes,” sighed the Homicidal Professor, +who, in obedience to a nod from Westfall, at +once proceeded to recount his experience.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI"> + CHAPTER XI +<br> +“WHAT DREAMS MAY COME?” + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>His anecdotes interested me greatly, and I carefully +noted all he said until we paused before the portrait of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</span>a young man whose features were rather more striking +than those of the others.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How long ago did this happen?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“About three centuries ago. That portrait yonder is +of the Countess Diametta di Gordo, the other victim of +that night.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</span>suffusing her features with a glow that gave to them +the appearance of a sudden awakening to life.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</span>where a white-clothed figure lay huddled and motionless +in a rock-cluster, near the margin of a lake.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <ins id='cor_313' title='Original: Bassellanto'>Basselanto</ins>? If not, what meant the +strange attire of this midnight stroller on the grounds?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</span></p> + +<p>“Ah, signor, you are in good time!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Antonio, it is you!” exclaimed the firstcomer, +halting. “Yes. Ill fares the laggard at a feast.”</p> + +<p>“Your philosophy becomes you well,” replied Antonio, +laughing. “But, surely, you do not come alone. Your +sister and——”</p> + +<p>“They have preceded me,” interrupted the other.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Fortune favors me, signor,” he said. “I was seeking +you, and thought I might find you here.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” I stammered.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I left your father a few minutes ago. He then +was inquiring of all he met if they had seen you to-night.”</p> + +<p>“My father!” I repeated, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I loved her.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>And now despair came to me. I became dizzy, and, +reeling, would have fallen had not a pair of strong hands +grasped me.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter, signor? Are you ill?”</p> + +<p>In a moment all was over.</p> + +<p>“No,” I replied. “I am all right now. But where do +you lead me?”</p> + +<p>“To the hall of Basselanto,” my companion explained. +“Do you not remember?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes—to Basselanto,” I answered. “I remember +now.”</p> + +<p>The old man eyed me quizzically and retained his hold +upon my arm. A few moments later the old mansion was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</span>before me. All the rooms were brilliantly illuminated, +and, through the windows, I saw figures in festal attire +passing to and fro.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As I seated myself on a chair, an old, though still hale +and hearty, man approached me.</p> + +<p>“My son, I have been alarmed at your absence,” he +said. “You should not have tarried so long. Why are +you so late?”</p> + +<p>“I fell asleep in the park,” I replied, believing this to be +the best way out of my dilemma.</p> + +<p>“An odd time and place to fall asleep,” the old gentleman +muttered, suspiciously. “But it does not matter, +now that you are here.”</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>The newcomer returned the greeting and seated himself +near me.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The theory is a strange one,” I heard the Doctor say, +“but there are Europeans who believe it to be indisputable.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</span></p> + +<p>“I must confess my ignorance of the subject,” said his +companion. “Perhaps you will enlighten me.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Do you believe all this?” asked his friend.</p> + +<p>The Doctor smiled gravely.</p> + +<p>“At first I was as sceptical as you probably are, but—” +he began.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Signor, you are vain—so vain that you have forgotten +to lead me to the dance.”</p> + +<p>How shall I describe the sensations which overwhelmed +me as, turning quickly, I beheld the speaker of these +words?</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“Diametta!”</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</span>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.</p> + +<p>“Signor!” she exclaimed, laughing merrily. “Why, +you start as if you had seen a ghost!”</p> + +<p>Struck by the singular propriety of her exclamation, I +continued to gaze at her speechlessly. The laughter left +her face.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I was in search of you,” he said pleasantly, as Diametta +acknowledged his salutation. Then, turning to +me, he asked:</p> + +<p>“And, Cousin, where have you been hiding? Until +now my search for you has been vain!”</p> + +<p>“He has been here,” Diametta replied. “I found him +rehearsing the scene of a tragedy in front of the mirror.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</span></p> + +<p>“You have it, signor,” replied Diametta graciously; +then taking one of my arms, she accompanied me from +the room.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Unable to bear the sight, I turned away and continued +to pace up and down the terrace.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I waited a few moments; then, stepping quickly to the +door, I looked out. They were descending the steps.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>For several moments neither of them spoke; then Diametta +broke the silence.</p> + +<p>“How beautiful it is out here to-night,” she murmured, +softly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</span>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?”</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I leaped over the rail of the pavilion and stood before +them.</p> + +<p>“What brings you here?” Bernardo demanded, angrily.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, Miavolo—no!” Diametta protested, weakly. +“Not—not now. You have frightened me.”</p> + +<p>“Come,” I directed, sternly.</p> + +<p>“She has told you no,” Bernardo said. “Now go.”</p> + +<p>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, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</span>striking him full in the temple with the brazen hilt of the +weapon. He fell, stunned and bleeding, to the ground.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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——”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, coward?”</p> + +<p>Releasing her wrist, I drew my sword and silently +pointed it toward the pavilion where Bernardo still lay +upon the floor.</p> + +<p>With a little cry she lurched toward me and caught +one of my hands in both her own.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The exclamation of a man caused me to turn around, +and I perceived my cousin, Bernardo, standing within a +few paces of me.</p> + +<p>“What have you done?” he demanded, hoarsely.</p> + +<p>“I have killed her,” I answered, regarding him calmly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</span>was to live only that I might love and hate and fight and +die—to live again.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Ah, good-morning, Cousin. You have risen early, +but come in and have breakfast. We will be ready to +start in an hour.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>From the manner in which the Prince shrank from me +I knew he saw my purpose in my eyes.</p> + +<p>“Great God, man, are you mad?” he faltered.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Three days later I was in Paris. There, seated at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII"> + CHAPTER XII +<br>THE DRAINED GLASS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>As the Homicidal Professor finished his narrative, he +turned to the Nervous Physician.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Gargoyle laughed mirthlessly as he reached for a +decanter and poured more wine into his glass.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“By the exception, our host means me,” the Nervous +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</span>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.’”</p> + +<p>The Gargoyle, twirling his glass of wine with nervous +fingers, laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“If the old poets are to be believed, satyrs have been +loved by some of the fairest nymphs,” observed the +Hypochondriacal Painter, solemnly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Decapitated Man turned to the Aeronaut.</p> + +<p>“Madame—” he begun.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” exclaimed the Gargoyle, sharply. “Though +you mean kindly, let us not draw aside the veil that +hides the face of Truth.”</p> + +<p>“I will spare you that trouble, then,” said the Princess, +as she raised and threw back the veil that had concealed +her features.</p> + +<p>She was very pale, but her lips and eyes were smiling, +as she added:</p> + +<p>“Gentleman, I am prepared to receive your congratulations.”</p> + +<p>“Paula!” exclaimed the Fugitive Bridegroom. “Are +you mad? Do you not know that——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</span></p> + +<p>“I know many things that I had not even suspected +before I came to the Barge of Haunted Lives,” the Princess +interrupted.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Gargoyle shook his head, then, seating himself +abstractedly, he toyed with his glass.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</span>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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>A few moments later the Princess was kneeling at his +side. The eyes of the dying man grew brighter.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Gargoyle took her hands.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>And it was in the Valley of the Garden that, a year +and a half later, a man and a woman stood beside a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</span>marble shaft on which was inscribed the name of Leon +Grenault.</p> + +<p>Lord Galonfield, looking toward the northern end of +the lake, asked, quietly:</p> + +<p>“And yonder lies the Valley of the Perfect Man?”</p> + +<p>“Yonder is the Valley of the Perfect Man,” his wife +answered, softly. “But the Perfect Man lies here.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<div class="transnote"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Note"> + Transcriber’s Note: + </h2> + + + +<p>Obvious errors in punctuation have been silently corrected in this +version, but minor inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained +as printed.</p> + +<p> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">The following changes have been made:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 025: <a href='#cor_025'>adenture <i>to</i> adventure</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 037: <a href='#cor_037'>enthusisatic <i>to</i> enthusiastic</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 067: <a href='#cor_067'>he <i>to</i> be</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 101: <a href='#cor_101'>visèd <i>to</i> viséd</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 135: <a href='#cor_135'>decending <i>to</i> descending</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 164: <a href='#cor_164'>gaurds <i>to</i> guards</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 166: <a href='#cor_166'>bethrothed <i>to</i> betrothed</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 228: <a href='#cor_228'>Gargoylle <i>to</i> Gargoyle</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 250: <a href='#cor_250'>Glanagassett <i>to</i> Glenagassett</a></span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">On page 313: <a href='#cor_313'>Bassellanto <i>to</i> Basselanto</a></span> +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>On page 177: the third and fourth lines in the following paragraph +in Chapter VI have been switched. Here is the passage as printed:</p> + +<p>The gates of Dreamland seemed to be opening their<br> +portals to me now, and I felt as if peris, standing at my<br> +<a href='#cor_177b'>visited my girlish fancies were gazing on me from the</a><br> +<a href='#cor_177a'>side, were pointing to where the heroes who so often had</a><br> +mystic city’s walls.</p> +</blockquote> +New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain. +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77879 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/77879-h/images/colophon.jpg b/77879-h/images/colophon.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6edbe1 --- /dev/null +++ b/77879-h/images/colophon.jpg diff --git a/77879-h/images/cover.jpg b/77879-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2808ebc --- /dev/null +++ b/77879-h/images/cover.jpg |
