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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78750-0.txt b/78750-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b3c047c --- /dev/null +++ b/78750-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8191 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78750 *** + + + + + FAMOUS MYSTERY STORIES + + + + +_The “Mystery” Library_ + +EDITED BY + +J. WALKER McSPADDEN + + + FAMOUS GHOST STORIES + FAMOUS PSYCHIC STORIES + FAMOUS DETECTIVE STORIES + FAMOUS MYSTERY STORIES + +A Library of quite unusual tales culled from the most powerful writers, +chiefly American, English, and French. Each book contains special +introduction. + + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL CO., NEW YORK + + + + + FAMOUS + MYSTERY STORIES + + EDITED BY + J. WALKER McSPADDEN + + Editor of “Famous Ghost Stories,” “Famous + Psychic Stories,” “Famous Detective + Stories,” etc. + + + NEW YORK + THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1922, + BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY + + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + THE SPECTRE OF TAPPINGTON _Richard Harris Barham_ 1 + + THE MYSTERIOUS SKETCH _Erckmann-Chatrian_ 34 + + THE DESERTED HOUSE _Ernest T. W. Hoffmann_ 58 + + THE ADELANTADO OF THE SEVEN CITIES _Washington Irving_ 86 + + THE PIPE _Anonymous_ 110 + + THE UPPER BERTH _F. Marion Crawford_ 139 + + THE DIAMOND LENS _Fitz-James O’Brien_ 172 + + THE HORLA _Guy de Maupassant_ 210 + + THE MUMMY’S FOOT _Théophile Gautier_ 248 + + THE THIEF _Anna Katharine Green_ 266 + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +“Famous Mystery Stories” completes a tetralogy begun a few years ago +with “Ghost Stories” and continued with “Detective” and “Psychic +Stories.” The responsive chord that each successive volume has struck +has emboldened the editor to continue a line of research which has +revealed many fascinating channels. A mass of enticing material has +been brought to light, which would fill many books of the present size; +and the problem has been one of selection and elimination. The group of +four books now complete under the title of the “The Mystery Library,” +while in no sense an anthology of the subject, will be found to contain +many typical examples of the bizarre and unusual, culled from the +ablest pens of America and Europe. + +It is interesting to note the different methods of approach to your +true mystery story. Every such tale conceals a definite problem which +may or may not be solved; and when tested in the crucible of widely +divergent minds, the result is of value from more than one aspect. + +In the present volume the reader will find representative stories +from American, English, Irish, French and German writers. Aside +from the individual merit of each tale, they afford a striking +study in contrasts, both in style and method of approach. By way of +illustration, no two stories could be more dissimilar in treatment +than the French and German examples herewith included. “The Mysterious +Sketch” by Erckmann-Chatrian, like its successor, “The Deserted House,” +by Hoffmann, is an excellent type of pure mystery tale, with the +mystery unexplained; but there the resemblance ends. The French joint +authors are concerned only with a hypothetical case. An artist draws a +fanciful sketch which proves to be the depiction of an actual tragedy. +Its effect upon the artist himself, rather than the how and why of the +drawing, is the concern of the story. Hoffmann’s tale also presents a +definite problem which is only half explained. It is a fantasy with +a touch of psychology, and affords its own raison d’être. “Hoffmann +preferred to remain a riddle to himself,” wrote a friend, “a riddle +which he always dreaded to have solved.” + +Three stories involving a vein of humor are “The Spectre of +Tappington,” that delightful skit from “The Ingoldsby Legends”; +Irving’s tale of the Adelantado who sought the lost cities of the +Spanish Main; and “The Pipe.” Each may be commended as an after-dinner +solace, “The Pipe” providing a pleasant “smoke” although not altogether +harmless in its effects. It is by our old friend, Anonymous, who +has given us some of the best examples of literature in every age. +Irving on his part is always like a draught of ruddy wine; and in the +adventures of the misguided Adelantado we are reminded of our old +friend Rip Van Winkle. The author himself is not concerned with a +mystery per se, but is indulging in a characteristic flight of fancy +tinged with a quiet, ironical humor. + +By way of contrast come a grisly tale of the sea from the masterly pen +of F. Marion Crawford. In “The Upper Berth” he weaves a mystery of +horror and haunting fear. It is redolent of stagnant seawater and slimy +sea-weeds. He is a hardened reader indeed who can read a yarn such as +this without a shudder. And yet the reader is led deliberately on to +the final climax. Unlike other mysteries it does not depend for its +power upon the unexpected. The narrator says in effect, “Gentlemen, +prepare for a shock!”--and his audience are shocked nevertheless. + +“The Diamond Lens,” by Fitz-James O’Brien, is a classic of imagination +raised to the _nth_ degree. Through the manufacture of a microscope of +incalculable power, its possessor is enabled to discover worlds far +beyond the ken of man, and to find therein lovely beings. The height of +the fantastic is reached when the scientist falls in love with the tiny +animalcule--truly a hopeless passion! On re-reading this story one is +struck by the fact that even murder itself can be held subordinate to +other elements in a piece of fiction. + +De Maupassant’s strange tale, “The Horla,” carries with it more than +a literary interest. It has a certain autobiographical flavor. De +Maupassant wielded one of the most powerful and versatile pens in +France of the last half century, and yet had a morbid, haunting fear of +going mad--a fear which was actually realized. “The Horla” is one of +the first vivid presentiments of a sinister personality overshadowing +his own. In another story, “Lui,” not here included, he also reveals +evidences of this overmastering terror. “I am afraid of the walls, +of the furniture, of the familiar objects which seem to me to assume +a kind of animal life. Above all I fear the horrible confusion of my +thought, of my reason escaping, entangled and scattered by an invisible +and mysterious anguish.” + +A mystery story of more conventional type is that one by Anna Katharine +Green, one of America’s most prolific writers in this vein. In “The +Thief,” we have an example of circumstantial evidence, which wellnigh +brings its victim to social and spiritual ruin. He is saved only by the +faith of those who believe in him despite appearances. + +“The Mummy’s Foot,” by Gautier, is a delightful example of Gallic +humor. Nothing could be more fanciful than the picture of the long-dead +Egyptian princess coming to reclaim her foot, which was being used as +a paper weight, and the assumption of its owner that he was thereby +entitled to claim her hand. + +In the preparation of this work the editor has been constantly indebted +to publishers and writers for the use of special material. Thanks are +particularly due to The Macmillan Company and the heirs of F. Marion +Crawford for permission to use his work; and to Dodd, Mead & Company +and Anna Katharine Green, for the use of her story. + + J. W. McS. + + MONTCLAIR, N. J. + March 1, 1922. + + + + +THE SPECTRE OF TAPPINGTON + +By RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM + +[Attribution: From “The Ingoldsby Legends, by Thomas Ingoldsby Esq.”] + + +“It is very odd, though; what can have become of them?” said Charles +Seaforth, as he peeped under the valance of an old-fashioned +bedstead, in an old-fashioned apartment of a still more old-fashioned +manor-house; “’tis confoundedly odd, and I can’t make it out at all. +Why, Barney, where are they?--and where the devil are you?” + +No answer was returned to this appeal; and the lieutenant, who was, in +the main, a reasonable person--at least as reasonable a person as any +young gentleman of twenty-two in “the service” can fairly be expected +to be--cooled when he reflected that his servant could scarcely reply +extempore to a summons which it was impossible he should hear. + +An application to the bell was the considerate result; and the +footsteps of as tight a lad as ever put pipe-clay to belt, sounded +along the gallery. + +“Come in!” said his master. An ineffectual attempt upon the door +reminded Mr. Seaforth that he had locked himself in. “By Heaven! +this is the oddest thing of all,” said he, as he turned the key and +admitted Mr. Maguire into his dormitory. + +“Barney, where are my pantaloons?” + +“Is it the breeches?” asked the valet, casting an inquiring eye round +the apartment--“is it the breeches, sir?” + +“Yes; what have you done with them?” + +“Sure then your honor had them on when you went to bed, and it’s +hereabout they’ll be, I’ll be bail;” and Barney lifted a fashionable +tunic from a cane-backed arm-chair, proceeding in his examination. +But the search was vain: there was the tunic aforesaid; there was a +smart-looking kerseymere waistcoat; but the most important article of +all in a gentleman’s wardrobe was still wanting. + +“Where can they be?” asked the master, with a strong accent on the +auxiliary verb. + +“Sorrow a know I knows,” said the man. + +“It must have been the devil, then, after all, who has been here and +carried them off!” cried Seaforth, staring full into Barney’s face. + +Mr. Maguire was not devoid of the superstition of his countrymen, still +he looked as if he did not quite subscribe to the _sequitur_. + +His master read incredulity in his countenance. “Why, I tell you, +Barney, I put them there, on that arm-chair, when I got into bed; and, +by heaven! I distinctly saw the ghost of the old fellow they told me +of, come in at midnight, put on my pantaloons, and walk away with them.” + +“May be so,” was the cautious reply. + +“I thought, of course, it was a dream; but then--where the devil are +the breeches?” + +The question was more easily asked than answered. Barney renewed his +search, while the lieutenant folded his arms, and, leaning against the +toilet, sank into a reverie. + +“After all, it must be some trick of my laughter-loving cousins,” said +Seaforth. + +“Ah! then, the ladies!” chimed in Mr. Maguire, though the observation +was not addressed to him; “and will it be Miss Caroline or Miss Fanny, +that’s stole your honor’s things?” + +“I hardly know what to think of it,” pursued the bereaved lieutenant, +still speaking in soliloquy, with his eye resting dubiously on the +chamber-door. “I locked myself in, that’s certain; and--but there must +be some other entrance to the room--pooh! I remember--the private +staircase; how could I be such a fool?” and he crossed the chamber to +where a low oaken doorcase was dimly visible in a distant corner. He +paused before it. Nothing now interfered to screen it from observation; +but it bore tokens of having been at some earlier period concealed by +tapestry, remains of which yet clothed the walls on either side of the +portal. + +“This way they must have come,” said Seaforth; “I wish with all my +heart I had caught them!” + +“Och! the kittens!” sighed Mr. Barney Maguire. + +But the mystery was yet as far from being solved as before. True, there +_was_ the “other door”; but then that, too, on examination, was even +more firmly secured than the one which opened on the gallery--two +heavy bolts on the inside effectually prevented any coup de main on the +lieutenant’s bivouac from that quarter. He was more puzzled than ever; +nor did the minutest inspection of the walls and floor throw any light +upon the subject; one thing only was clear--the breeches were gone! “It +is _very_ singular,” said the lieutenant. + + * * * * * + +Tappington (generally called Tapton) Everard is an antiquated but +commodious manor-house in the eastern division of the county of Kent. A +former proprietor had been high-sheriff in the days of Elizabeth, and +many a dark and dismal tradition was yet extant of the licentiousness +of his life, and the enormity of his offenses. The Glen, which the +keeper’s daughter was seen to enter, but never known to quit, still +frowns darkly as of yore; while an ineradicable bloodstain on the oaken +stair yet bids defiance to the united energies of soap and sand. But it +is with one particular apartment that a deed of more especial atrocity +is said to be connected. A stranger guest--so runs the legend--arrived +unexpectedly at the mansion of the “bad Sir Giles.” They met in +apparent friendship; but the ill-concealed scowl on their master’s brow +told the domestics that the visit was not a welcome one; the banquet, +however, was not spared; the wine cup circulated freely--too freely, +perhaps, for sounds of discord at length reached the ears of even the +excluded serving-men, as they were doing their best to imitate their +betters in the lower hall. Alarmed, some of them ventured to approach +the parlor; one an old and favored retainer of the house, went so far +as to break in upon his master’s privacy. Sir Giles, already high in +oath, fiercely enjoined his absence, and he retired; not, however, +before he had distinctly heard from the stranger’s lips a menace that +“there was that within his pockets which could disprove the knight’s +right to issue that or any other command within the walls of Tapton.” + +The intrusion, though momentary, seemed to have produced a beneficial +effect; the voices of the disputants fell, and the conversation was +carried on thenceforth in a more subdued tone, till, as evening closed +in, the domestics, when summoned to attend with lights, found not only +cordiality restored, but that a still deeper carouse was meditated. +Fresh stoups, and from the choicest bins, were produced; nor was it +till at a late, or rather early hour, that the revelers sought their +chambers. + +The one allotted to the stranger occupied the first floor of the +eastern angle of the building, and had once been the favorite apartment +of Sir Giles himself. Scandal ascribed this preference to the facility +which a private staircase, communicating with the grounds, had afforded +him, in the old knight’s time, of following his wicked courses +unchecked by parental observation; a consideration which ceased to be +of weight when the death of his father left him uncontrolled master +of his estate and actions. From that period Sir Giles had established +himself in what were called the “state apartments,” and the “oaken +chamber” was rarely tenated, save on occasions of extraordinary +festivity, or when the yule log drew an unusually large accession of +guests around the Christmas hearth. + +On this eventful night it was prepared for the unknown visitor, who +sought his couch heated and inflamed from his midnight orgies, and +in the morning was found in his bed a swollen and blackened corpse. +No marks of violence appeared upon the body; but the livid hue +of the lips, and certain dark-colored spots visible on the skin, +aroused suspicions which those who entertained them were too timid to +express. Apoplexy, induced by the excesses of the preceding night, Sir +Giles’s confidential leech pronounced to be the cause of his sudden +dissolution. The body was buried in peace; and though some shook their +heads as they witnessed the haste with which the funeral rites were +hurried on, none ventured to murmur. Other events arose to distract the +attention of the retainers; men’s minds became occupied by the stirring +politics of the day; while the near approach of that formidable +armada, so vainly arrogating to itself a title which the very elements +joined with human valor to disprove, soon interfered to weaken, if +not obliterate, all remembrance of the nameless stranger who had died +within the walls of Tapton Everard. + +Years rolled on: the “bad Sir Giles” had himself long since gone to his +account, the last, as it was believed, of his immediate line; though +a few of the older tenants were sometimes heard to speak of an elder +brother, who had disappeared in early life, and never inherited the +estate. Rumors, too, of his having left a son in foreign lands, were at +one time rife; but they died away, nothing occurring to support them; +the property passed unchallenged to a collateral branch of the family, +and the secret, if secret there were, was buried in Denton churchyard, +in the lonely grave of the mysterious stranger. One circumstance +alone occurred, after a long-intervening period, to revive the memory +of these transactions. Some workmen employed in grubbing an old +plantation, for the purpose of raising on its site a modern shrubbery, +dug up, in the execution of their task, the mildewed remnants of what +seemed to have been once a garment. On more minute inspection, enough +remained of silken slashes and a coarse embroidery, to identify the +relics as having once formed part of a pair of trunk hose; while a few +papers which fell from them, altogether illegible from damp and age, +were by the unlearned rustics conveyed to the then owner of the estate. + +Whether the squire was more successful in deciphering them was never +known; he certainly never alluded to their contents; and little would +have been thought of the matter but for the inconvenient memory of +an old woman, who declared she heard her grandfather say, that when +the “stranger guest” was poisoned, though all the rest of his clothes +were there, his breeches, the supposed repository of the supposed +documents, could never be found. The master of Tapton Everard smiled +when he heard Dame Jones’s hint of deeds which might impeach the +validity of his own title in favor of some unknown descendant of some +unknown heir; and the story was rarely alluded to, save by one or +two miracle-mongers, who had heard that others had seen the ghost of +Old Sir Giles, in his night-cap, issue from the postern, enter the +adjoining copse, and wring his shadowy hands in agony, as he seemed to +search vainly for something hidden among the evergreens. The stranger’s +deathroom had, of course, been occasionally haunted from the time of +his decease; but the periods of visitation had latterly become very +rare--even Mrs. Botherby, the housekeeper, being forced to admit that +during her long sojourn at the manor, she had never “met with anything +worse than herself”; though, as the old lady afterwards added upon more +mature reflection, “I must say I think I saw the devil once.” + +Such was the legend attached to Tapton Everard, and such the story +which the lively Caroline Ingoldsby detailed to her equally mercurial +cousin, Charles Seaforth, lieutenant in the Hon. East India Company’s +second regiment of Bombay Fencibles, as arm-in-arm they promenaded a +gallery decked with some dozen grim-looking ancestral portraits, and, +among others, with that of the redoubted Sir Giles himself. The gallant +commander had that very morning paid his first visit to the house of +his maternal uncle, after an absence of several years passed with his +regiment on the arid plains of Hindoostan, whence he was now returned +on a three years’ furlough. He had gone out a boy--he returned a man; +but the impression made upon his youthful fancy by his favorite cousin +remained unimpaired, and to Tapton he directed his steps, even before +he sought the home of his widowed mother--comforting himself in this +breach of filial decorum by the reflection that, as the manor was so +little out of his way, it would be unkind to pass, as it were, the door +of his relatives, without just looking in for a few hours. + +But he found his uncle as hospitable, and his cousin more charming +than ever; and the looks of one, and the requests of the other, soon +precluded the possibility of refusing to lengthen the “few hours” into +a few days, though the house was at the moment full of visitors. + +The Peterses were there from Ramsgate; and Mr., Mrs., and the two Miss +Simpkinsons, from Bath, had come to pass a month with the family; +and Tom Ingoldsby had brought down his college friend, the Honorable +Augustus Sucklethumbkin, with his groom and pointers, to take a +fortnight’s shooting. And then there was Mrs. Ogleton, the rich young +widow, with her large black eyes, who, people did say, was setting +her cap at the young squire, though Mrs. Botherby did not believe +it; and, above all, there was Mademoiselle Pauline, her femme de +chambre, who “mon Dieu’d” everything and everybody, and cried “Quelle +horreur!” at Mrs. Botherby’s cap. In short, to use the last-named and +much-respected lady’s own expression, the house was “choke-full” to +the very attics--all save the “oaken chamber,” which, as the lieutenant +expressed a most magnanimous disregard of ghosts, was forthwith +appropriated to his particular accommodation. Mr. Maguire meanwhile +was fain to share the apartment of Oliver Dobbs, the squire’s own man; +a jocular proposal of joint occupancy having been first indignantly +rejected by “Mademoiselle,” though preferred with the “laste taste in +life” of Mr. Barney’s most insinuating brogue. + + * * * * * + +“Come, Charles, the urn is absolutely getting cold; your breakfast +will be quite spoiled; what can have made you so idle?” Such was the +morning salutation of Miss Ingoldsby to the militaire as he entered the +breakfast-room half-an-hour after the latest of the party. + +“A pretty gentleman, truly, to make an appointment with,” chimed +in Miss Frances. “What is become of our ramble to the rocks before +breakfast?” + +“Oh! the young men never think of keeping a promise now,” said Mrs. +Peters, a little ferret-faced woman with underdone eyes. + +“When I was a young man,” said Mr. Peters, “I remember I always made a +point of----” + +“Pray, how long ago was that?” asked Mr. Simpkinson from Bath. + +“Why, sir, when I married Mrs. Peters, I was--let me see--I was----” + +“Do pray hold your tongue, P., and eat your breakfast!” interrupted +his better half, who had a mortal horror of chronological references; +“it’s very rude to tease people with your family affairs.” + +The lieutenant had by this time taken his seat in silence--a +good-humored nod, and a glance, half-smiling, half-inquisitive, being +the extent of his salutation. Smitten as he was, and in the immediate +presence of her who had made so large a hole in his heart, his manner +was evidently distrait, which the fair Caroline in her secret soul +attributed to his being solely occupied by her agrémens: how would she +have bridled had she known that they only shared his meditations with a +pair of breeches! + +Charles drank his coffee and spiked some half-dozen eggs, darting +occasionally a penetrating glance at the ladies, in hope of detecting +the supposed waggery by the evidence of some furtive smile or conscious +look. But in vain; not a dimple moved indicative of roguery, nor did +the slightest elevation of eyebrow rise confirmative of his suspicions. +Hints and insinuations passed unheeded--more particular inquiries were +out of the question--the subject was unapproachable. + +In the meantime, “patent cords” were just the thing for a morning’s +ride; and, breakfast ended, away cantered the party over the downs, +till, every faculty absorbed by the beauties, animate and inanimate, +which surrounded him, Lieutenant Seaforth of the Bombay Fencibles +bestowed no more thought upon his breeches than if he had been born on +the top of Ben Lomond. + +Another night had passed away; the sun rose brilliantly, forming with +his level beams a splendid rainbow in the far-off west, whither the +heavy cloud, which for the last two hours had been pouring its waters +on the earth, was now flying before him. + +“Ah! then, and it’s little good it’ll be the claning of ye,” +apostrophized Mr. Barney Maguire, as he deposited, in front of his +master’s toilet, a pair of “bran new” jockey boots, one of Hoby’s +primest fits, which the lieutenant had purchased in his way through +town. On that very morning had they come for the first time under the +valet’s depurating hand, so little soiled, indeed, from the turfy ride +of the preceding day, that a less scrupulous domestic might perhaps +have considered the application of “Warren’s Matchless,” or oxalic +acid, altogether superfluous. Not so, Barney: with the nicest care had +he removed the slightest impurity from each polished surface, and there +they stood, rejoicing in their sable radiance. No wonder a pang shot +across Mr. Maguire’s breast, as he thought on the work now cut out for +them, so different from the light labors of the day before; no wonder +he murmured with a sigh, as the scarce dried window-panes disclosed +a road now inch deep in mud. “Ah! then, it’s little good the claning +of ye!”--for well had he learned in the hall below that eight miles +of a stiff clay soil lay between the manor and Bolsover Abbey, whose +picturesque ruins, “Like ancient Rome, majestic in decay,” the party +had determined to explore. The master had already commenced dressing, +and the man was fitting straps upon a light pair of crane-necked spurs, +when his hand was arrested by the old question--“Barney, where are the +breeches?” + +They were nowhere to be found! + +Mr. Seaforth descended that morning, whip in hand, and equipped in +a handsome green riding-frock, but no “breeches and boots to match” +were there; loose jean trousers, surmounting a pair of diminutive +Wellingtons, embraced, somewhat incongruously, his nether man, vice the +“patent cords,” returned, like yesterday’s pantaloons, absent without +leave. The “top-boots” had a holiday. + +“A fine morning after the rain,” said Mr. Simpkinson from Bath. + +“Just the thing for the ’ops,” said Mr. Peters. “I remember when I was +a boy--” + +“Do hold your tongue, P.,” said Mrs. Peters--advice which that +exemplary matron was in the constant habit of administering to “her +P.,” as she called him, whenever he prepared to vent his reminiscences. +Her precise reason for this it would be difficult to determine, unless +indeed, the story be true which a little bird had whispered into Mrs. +Botherby’s ear--Mr. Peters, though now a wealthy man, had received a +liberal education at a charity school, and was apt to recur to the days +of his muffin-cap and leathers. As usual, he took his wife’s hint in +good part, and “paused in his reply.” + +“A glorious day for the ruins!” said young Ingoldsby. “But Charles, +what the deuce are you about? you don’t mean to ride through our lanes +in such toggery as that?” + +“Lassy me!” said Miss Julia Simpkinson, “won’t you be very wet?” + +“You had better take Tom’s cab,” quoth the squire. + +But this proposition was at once overruled; Mrs. Ogleton had already +nailed the cab, a vehicle of all others the best adapted for a snug +flirtation. + +“Or drive Miss Julia in the phaeton?” No; that was the post of Mr. +Peters, who, indifferent as an equestrian, had acquired some fame as +a whip while travelling through the midland countries for the firm of +Bagshaw, Snivelby, and Grimes. + +“Thank you, I shall ride with my cousins,” said Charles, with as much +nonchalance as he could assume--and he did so; Mr. Ingoldsby, Mrs. +Peters, Mr. Simpkinson from Bath, and his eldest daughter with her +album, following in the family coach. The gentleman-commoner “voted the +affair d--d slow,” and declined the party altogether in favor of the +gamekeeper and a cigar. “There was ‘no fun’ in looking at old houses!” +Mrs. Simpkinson preferred a short séjour in the still-room with Mrs. +Botherby, who had promised to initiate her in that grand arcanum, the +transmutation of gooseberry jam into Guava jelly. + + * * * * * + +But what had become of Seaforth and his fair Caroline all this while? +Why, it so happened that they had been simultaneously stricken with +the picturesque appearance of one of those high and pointed arches, +which that eminent antiquary, Mr. Horseley Curties, has described in +his “Ancient records,” as “a Gothic window of the Saxon order”; and +then the ivy clustered so thickly and so beautifully on the other side, +that they went round to look at that; and then their proximity deprived +it of half its effect, and so they walked across to a little knoll, a +hundred yards off, and in crossing a small ravine, they came to what +in Ireland they call “a bad step,” and Charles had to carry his cousin +over it; and then when they had to come back, she would not give him +the trouble again for the world, so they followed a better but more +circuitous route, and there were hedges and ditches in the way, and +stiles to get over and gates to get through, so that an hour or more +had elapsed before they were able to rejoin the party. + +“Lassy me!” said Miss Julia Simpkinson, “how long you have been gone!” + +And so they had. The remark was a very just as well as a very natural +one. They were gone a long while, and a nice cosy chat they had; and +what do you think it was about, my dear miss? + +“O, lassy me! love no doubt, and the moon, and eyes, and nightingales, +and----” + +Stay, stay, my sweet young lady; do not let the fervor of your feelings +run away with you! I do not pretend to say, indeed, that one or more +of these pretty subjects might not have been introduced; but the +most important and leading topic of the conference was--Lieutenant +Seaforth’s breeches. + +“Caroline,” said Charles, “I have had some very odd dreams since I have +been at Tappington.” + +“Dreams, have you?” smiled the young lady, arching her taper neck like +a swan in pluming. “Dreams, have you?” + +“Ay, dreams--or dream, perhaps, I should say; for, though repeated, it +was still the same. And what do you imagine was its subject?” + +“It is impossible for me to divine,” said the tongue:--“I have not the +least difficulty in guessing,” said the eye, as plainly as ever eye +spoke. + +“I dreamt--of your great-grandfather.” + +There was a change in the glance--“My great-grandfather?” + +“Yes, the old Sir Giles, or Sir John, you told me about the other day: +he walked into my bedroom in his short cloak of murrey-colored velvet, +his long rapier, and his Raleigh-looking hat and feather, just as the +picture represents him; but with one exception.” + +“And what was that?” + +“Why, his lower extremities, which were visible, were those of a +skeleton.” + +“Well?” + +“Well, after taking a turn or two about the room, and looking round him +with a wistful air, he came to the bed’s foot, stared at me in a manner +impossible to describe--and then he--he laid hold of my pantaloons; +whipped his long, bony legs into them in a twinkling; and, strutting +up to the glass, seemed to view himself in it with great complacency. +I tried to speak, but in vain. The effort, however, seemed to excite +his attention; for, wheeling about, he showed me the grimmest-looking +death’s head you can well imagine, and with an indescribable grin +strutted out of the room.” + +“Absurd! Charles. How can you talk such nonsense?” + +“But, Caroline--the breeches are really gone.” + + * * * * * + +On the following morning, contrary to his usual custom, Seaforth +was the first person in the breakfast parlor. A serious, not to say +anxious, expression was visible upon his good-humored countenance, and +his mouth was fast buttoning itself up for an incipient whistle, when +little Flo, a tiny spaniel of the Blenheim breed--the pet object of +Miss Julia Simpkinson’s affections--bounced out from beneath a sofa, +and began to bark at--his pantaloons. + +They were cleverly “built” of a light-gray mixture, a broad stripe +of the most vivid scarlet traversing each seam in a perpendicular +direction from hip to ankle--in short, the regimental costume of the +Royal Bombay Fencibles. The animal, educated in the country, had +never seen such a pair of breeches in her life--Omne ignotum pro +magnifico! The scarlet streak, inflamed as it was by the reflection of +the fire, seemed to act on Flora’s nerves as the same color does on +those of bulls and turkeys; she advanced at the pas de charge, and her +vociferation, like her amazement, was unbounded. A sound kick from the +disgusted officer changed its character, and induced a retreat at the +very moment when the mistress of the pugnacious quadruped entered to +the rescue. + +“Lassy me! Flo, what _is_ the matter?” cried the sympathizing lady, +with a scrutinizing glance levelled at the gentleman. + +It might as well have lighted on a feather bed. His air of +imperturbable unconsciousness defied examination; and as he would not, +and Flora could not, expound, that injured individual was compelled +to pocket up her wrongs. Others of the household soon dropped in, and +clustered round the board dedicated to the most sociable of meals; +the urn was paraded “hissing hot,” and the cups which “cheer, but not +inebriate,” steamed redolent of hyson and pekoe; muffins and marmalade, +newspapers and finnan haddies, left little room for observation on +the character of Charles’s warlike “turn-out.” At length a look from +Caroline, followed by a smile that nearly ripened to a titter, caused +him to turn abruptly and address his neighbor. It was Miss Simpkinson, +who, was deeply engaged in sipping her tea and turning over her album. +The entreaties of the company were of course urgent. Mr. Peters, “who +liked verses,” was especially persevering, and Sappho, at length +compliant. After a preparatory hem, and a glance at the mirror to +ascertain that her look was sufficiently sentimental, the poetess +began:-- + + “There is a calm, a holy feeling, + Vulgar minds can never know, + O’er the bosom softly stealing,-- + Chasten’d grief, delicious woe! + Oh! how sweet at eve regaining + Yon lone tower’s sequester’d shade-- + Sadly mute and uncomplaining----” + +--“Yow!--yeough!--yeough!--yow!--yow!” yelled a hapless sufferer from +underneath the table. It was an unlucky hour for quadrupeds; and if +“every dog will have his day,” he could not have selected a more +unpropitious one than this. Mrs. Ogleton, too, had a pet--a favorite +pug--whose squab figure, black muzzle, and tortuosity of tail, that +curled like a head of celery in a salad-bowl, bespoke his Dutch +extraction. Yow! yow! yow! continued the brute--a chorus in which Flo +instantly joined. Sooth to say, pug had more reason to express his +dissatisfaction than was given him by the muse of Simpkinson; the other +only barked for company. Scarcely had the poetess got through her first +stanza, when Tom Ingoldsby, in the enthusiasm of the moment, became so +lost in the material world, that, in his abstraction, he unwarily laid +his hand on the cock of the urn. Quivering with emotion, he gave it +such an unlucky twist, that the full stream of its scalding contents +descended on the gingerbread hide of the unlucky Cupid. The confusion +was complete; the whole economy of the table disarranged--the company +broke up in the most admired disorder--and “vulgar minds will never +know” anything more of Miss Simpkinson’s ode till they peruse it in +some forthcoming Annual. + +Seaforth profited by the confusion to take the delinquent who had +caused this “stramash” by the arm, and to lead him to the lawn, where +he had a word or two for his private ear. The conference between the +young gentlemen was neither brief in its duration nor unimportant +in its results. The subject was what the lawyers call tripartite, +embracing the information that Charles Seaforth was over head and +ears in love with Tom Ingoldsby’s sister; secondly, that the lady +had referred him to “papa” for his sanction; thirdly and lastly, his +nightly visitations, and consequent bereavement. At the two first items +Tom smiled auspiciously; at the last he burst out into an absolute +guffaw. + +“Steal your breeches! Miss Bailey over again, by Jove,” shouted +Ingoldsby. “But a gentleman, you say--and Sir Giles too. I am not sure, +Charles, whether I ought not to call you out for aspersing the honor of +the family.” + +“Laugh as you will, Tom--be as incredulous as you please. One fact is +incontestable--the breeches are gone! Look here--I am reduced to my +regimentals; and if these go, to-morrow I must borrow of you!” + +Rochefoucault says, there is something in the misfortunes of our very +best friends that does not displease us; assuredly we can, most of us, +laugh at their petty inconveniences, till called upon to supply them. +Tom composed his feature on the instant, and replied with more gravity, +as well as with an expletive, which, if my Lord Mayor had been within +hearing, might have cost him five shillings. + +“There is something very queer in this, after all. The clothes, you +say, have positively disappeared. Somebody is playing you a trick; +and, ten to one, your servant has a hand in it. By the way, I heard +something yesterday of his kicking up a bobbery in the kitchen, and +seeing a ghost, or something of that kind, himself. Depend upon it, +Barney is in the plot.” + +It now struck the lieutenant at once, that the usually buoyant spirits +of his attendant had of late been materially sobered down, his +loquacity obviously circumscribed, and that he, the said lieutenant, +had actually rung his bell three several times that very morning before +he could procure his attendance. Mr. Maguire was forthwith summoned, +and underwent a close examination. The “bobbery” was easily explained. + +Mr. Barney had seen a ghost. + +“A what? you blockhead!” asked Tom Ingoldsby. + +“Sure then, and it’s meself will tell your honor the rights of it,” +said the ghost-seer. “Meself and Miss Pauline, sir,--or Miss Pauline +and meself, for the ladies comes first anyhow,--we got tired of the +hobstroppylous scrimmaging among the ould servants, that didn’t know a +joke when they seen one; and we went out to look at the comet--that’s +the rorybory-alehouse, they calls him in this country--and we walked +upon the lawn--and divil of any alehouse there was there at all; +and Miss Pauline said it was bekase of the shrubbery maybe, and why +wouldn’t we see it better beyonst the trees? and so we went to the +trees, but sorrow a comet did meself see there, barring a big ghost +instead of it.” + +“A ghost? And what sort of a ghost, Barney?” + +“Och, then, divil a lie I’ll tell your honor. A tall ould gentlemen +he was, all in white, with a shovel on the shoulder of him, and a big +torch in his fist--though what he wanted with that it’s meself can’t +tell, for his eyes like gig-lamps, let alone the moon and the comet, +which wasn’t there at all--and ‘Barney,’ says he to me--’cause why he +knew me--‘Barney,’ says he, ‘what is it you’re doing with the colleen +there, Barney?’--Divil a word did I say. Miss Pauline screeched, and +cried murther in French, and ran off with herself; and of course +meself was in a mighty hurry after the lady, and had no time to stop +palavering with him any way: so I dispersed at once, and the ghost +vanished in a flame of fire!” + +Mr. Maguire’s account was received with avowed incredulity by both +gentlemen; but Barney stuck to his text with unflinching pertinacity. +A reference to Mademoiselle was suggested, but abandoned, as neither +party had a taste for delicate investigations. + +“I’ll tell you what, Seaforth,” said Ingoldsby, after Barney had +received his dismissal, “that there is a trick here, is evident; and +Barney’s vision may possibly be a part of it. Whether he is most knave +or fool, you best know. At all events, I will sit up with you to-night, +and see if I can convert my ancestor into a visiting acquaintance. +Meanwhile your finger on your lip!” + + * * * * * + +Gladly would I grace my tale with recent horror, and therefore I do +beseech the “gentle reader” to believe, that if all the details to +this mysterious narrative are not in strict keeping, he will ascribe +it only to the disgraceful innovations of modern degeneracy upon the +sober and dignified habits of our ancestors. I can introduce him, it is +true, into an old and high-roofed chamber, its walls covered on three +sides with black oak wainscoting, adorned with carvings of fruit and +flowers long anterior to those of Grinling Gibbons; the fourth side +is clothed with a curious remnant of dingy tapestry, once elucidatory +of some Scriptural history, but of which not even Mrs. Botherby could +determine. Mr. Simpkinson, who had examined it carefully, inclined to +believe the principal figure to be either Bathsheba, or Daniel in the +lion’s den; while Tom Ingoldsby decided in favor of the King of Bashan. +All, however, was conjecture, tradition being silent on the subject. A +lofty arched portal led into, and a little arched portal led out of, +this apartment; they were opposite each other, and each possessed the +security of massy bolts on its interior. The bedstead, too, was not one +of yesterday, but manifestly coeval with days ere Seddons was, and when +a good four-post “article” was deemed worthy of being a royal bequest. +The bed itself, with all the appurtenances of palliasse, mattresses, +etc., was of far later date, and looked most incongruously comfortable; +the casements, too, with their little diamond-shaped panes and iron +binding, had given way to the modern heterodoxy of the sash-window. Nor +was this all that conspired to ruin the costume, and render the room a +meet haunt for such “mixed spirits” only as could condescend to don at +the same time an Elizabethan doublet and Bond-Street inexpressibles. + +With their green morocco slippers on a modern fender, in front of +a disgracefully modern grate, sat two young gentlemen, clad in +“shawl-pattern” dressing-gowns and black silk stocks, much at variance +with the high cane-backed chairs which supported them. A bunch of +abomination, called a cigar, reeked in the left-hand corner of the +mouth of one, and in the right-hand corner of the mouth of the +other--an arrangement happily adapted for the escape of the noxious +fumes up the chimney, without that unmerciful “funking” each other +which a less scientific disposition of the weed would have induced. +A small pembroke table filled up the intervening space between them, +sustaining, at each extremity, an elbow and a glass of toddy--thus in +“lonely pensive contemplation” were the two worthies occupied, when the +“iron tongue of midnight had tolled twelve.” + +“Ghost-time’s come!” said Ingoldsby, taking from his waistcoat pocket a +watch like a gold half-crown, and consulting it as though he suspected +the turret-clock over the stables of mendacity. + +“Hush!” said Charles; “did I not hear a footstep?” + +There was a pause--there was a footstep--it sounded distinctly--it +reached the door--it hesitated, stopped, and--passed on. + +Tom darted across the room, threw open the door, and became aware of +Mrs. Botherby toddling to her chamber, at the other end of the gallery, +after dosing one of the housemaids with an approved julep from the +Countess of Kent’s _Choice Manual_. + +“Good-night, sir!” said Mrs. Botherby. + +“Go to the devil!” said the disappointed ghost-hunter. + +An hour--two--rolled on, and still no spectral visitation; nor did +aught intervene to make night hideous; and when the turret-clock +sounded at length the hour of three, Ingoldsby, whose patience and grog +were alike exhausted, sprang from his chair, saying-- + +“This is all infernal nonsense, my good fellow. Deuce of any ghost +shall we see to-night; it’s long past the canonical hour. I’m off to +bed; and as to your breeches, I’ll insure them for the next twenty-four +hours at least, at the price of the buckram.” + +“Certainly.--Oh! thank’ee--to be sure!” stammered Charles, rousing +himself from a reverie, which had degenerated into an absolute snooze. + +“Good-night, my boy! Bolt the door behind me; and defy the Pope, the +Devil, and the Pretender!” + +Seaforth followed his friend’s advice, and the next morning came down +to breakfast dressed in the habiliments of the preceding day. The charm +was broken, the demon defeated; the light grays with the red stripe +down the seams were yet in rerum naturâ, and adorned the person of +their lawful proprietor. + +Tom felicitated himself and his partner of the watch on the result of +their vigilance; but there is a rustic adage, which warns us against +self-gratulation before we are quite “out of the wood.”--Seaforth was +yet within its verge. + +A rap at Tom Ingoldsby’s door the following morning startled him as he +was shaving--he cut his chin. + +“Come in and be damned to you!” said the martyr, pressing his thumb on +the sacrificed epidermis. The door opened, and exhibited Mr. Barney +Maguire. + +“Well, Barney, what is it?” quoth the sufferer, adopting the vernacular +of his visitant. + +“The master, sir--” + +“Well, what does he want?” + +“The loanst of a breeches, plase your honor.” + +“Why, you don’t mean to tell me----By Heaven, this is too good!” +shouted Tom, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “Why, +Barney, you don’t mean to say the ghost has got them again?” + +Mr. Maguire did not respond to the young squire’s risibility; the cast +of his countenance was decidedly serious. + +“Faith, then, it’s gone they are, sure enough! Hasn’t meself been +looking over the bed, and under the bed, and _in_ the bed, for the +matter of that, and divil a ha’p’orth of breeches is there to the fore +at all:--I’m bothered entirely!” + +“Hark’ee! Mr. Barney,” said Tom, incautiously removing his thumb, and +letting a crimson stream “incarnadine the multitudinous” lather that +plastered his throat,--“this may be all very well with your master, but +you don’t humbug _me_, sir:--tell me instantly what have you done with +the clothes?” + +This abrupt transition from “lively to severe” certainly took Maguire +by surprise, and he seemed for an instant as much disconcerted as it is +possible to disconcert an Irish gentleman’s gentleman. + +“Me? is it meself, then, that’s the ghost to your honor’s thinking?” +said he after a moment’s pause, and with a slight shade of indignation +in his tones: “is it I would stale the master’s things--and what would +I do with them?” + +“That you best know:--what your purpose is I can’t guess, for I +don’t think you mean to ‘stale’ them, as you call it; but that you +are concerned in their disappearance, I am satisfied. Confound this +blood!--give me a towel, Barney.” + +Maguire acquitted himself of the commission. “As I’ve a sowl, your +honor,” said he, solemnly, “little is it meself knows of the matter; +and after what I seen----” + +“What you’ve seen! Why, what _have_ you seen?--Barney, I don’t want to +inquire into your flirtations; but don’t suppose you can palm off your +saucer eyes and gig-lamps upon me!” + +“Then, as sure as your honor’s standing there, I saw him: and why +wouldn’t I, when Miss Pauline was to the fore as well as meself, +and----” + +“Get along with your nonsense; leave the room, sir!” + +“But the master?” said Barney, imploringly; “and without a +breeches?--sure he’ll be catching cowld!----” + +“Take that, rascal!” replied Ingoldsby, throwing a pair of pantaloons +at, rather than to, him: “but don’t suppose, sir, you shall carry on +your tricks here with impunity; recollect there is such a thing as a +treadmill, and that my father is a county magistrate.” + +Barney’s eye flashed fire; he stood erect, and was about to speak; but, +mastering himself, not without an effort, he took up the garment, and +left the room as perpendicular as a Quaker. + +“Ingoldsby,” said Charles Seaforth, after breakfast, “this is now past +a joke; to-day is the last of my stay; for, notwithstanding the ties +which detain me, common decency obliges me to visit home after so long +an absence. I shall come to an immediate explanation with your father +on the subject nearest my heart, and depart while I have a change of +dress left. On his answer will my return depend! In the meantime tell +me candidly,--I ask it in all seriousness, and as a friend,--am I not +a dupe to your well-known propensity to hoaxing? have you not a hand +in----” + +“No, by heaven, Seaforth; I see what you mean: on my honor, I am as +much mystified as yourself; and if your servant----” + +“Not he:--if there be a trick, he at least is not privy to it.” + +“If there be a trick? why, Charles, do you think----” + +“I know not what to think, Tom. As surely as you are a living man, so +surely did that spectral anatomy visit my room again last night, grin +in my face, and walk away with my trousers: nor was I able to spring +from my bed, or break the chain which seemed to bind me to my pillow.” + +“Seaforth!” said Ingoldsby, after a short pause, “I will----But hush! +here are the girls and my father.--I will carry off the females, and +leave you a clear field with the governor: carry your point with him, +and we will talk about your breeches afterwards.” + +Tom’s diversion was successful; he carried off the ladies en masse +while Seaforth marched boldly up to the encounter, and carried “the +governor’s” outworks by a coup de main. + +Seaforth was in the seventh heaven; he retired to his room that night +as happy as if no such thing as a goblin had ever been heard of, and +personal chattels were as well fenced in by law as real property. Not +so Tom Ingoldsby: the mystery, for mystery there evidently was,--had +not only piqued his curiosity, but ruffled his temper. The watch of +the previous night had been unsuccessful, probably because it was +undisguised. To-night he would “ensconce himself,” not indeed “behind +the arras,”--for the little that remained was, as we have seen, nailed +to the wall,--but in a small closet which opened from one corner of +the room, and by leaving the door ajar, would give to its occupant a +view of all that might pass in the apartment. Here did the young ghost +hunter take up a position, with a good stout sapling under his arm, +a full half-hour before Seaforth retired for the night. Not even his +friend did he let into his confidence, fully determined that if his +plan did not succeed, the failure should be attributed to himself alone. + +At the usual hour of separation for the night, Tom saw, from his +concealment, the lieutenant enter his room, and after taking a few +turns in it, with an expression so joyous as to betoken that his +thoughts were mainly occupied by his approaching happiness, proceed +slowly to disrobe himself. The coat, the waistcoat, happiness, +the black silk stock, were gradually discarded; the green morocco +slippers were kicked off, and then--ay, and then--his countenance grew +grave; it seemed to occur to him all at once that this was his last +stake,--nay, that the very breeches he had on were not his own,--that +to-morrow morning was his last, and that if he lost them----A glance +showed that his mind was made up; he replaced the single button he +had just subducted, and threw himself upon the bed in a state of +transition,--half chrysalis, half grub. + +Wearily did Tom Ingoldsby watch the sleeper by the flickering light of +the night-lamp, till, the clock striking one, induced him to increase +the narrow opening which he had left for the purpose of observation. +The motion, slight as it was, seemed to attract Charles’s attention; +for he raised himself suddenly to a sitting posture, listened for a +moment, and then stood upright upon the floor. Ingoldsby was on the +point of discovering himself, when, the light flashing full upon his +friend’s countenance, he perceived that, though his eyes were open, +“their sense was shut,”--that he was yet under the influence of sleep. +Seaforth advanced slowly to the toilet, lit his candle at the lamp that +stood on it, then, going back to the bed’s foot, appeared to search +eagerly for something which he could not find. For a few moments he +seemed restless and uneasy, walking round the apartment and examining +the chairs, till, coming fully in front of a large swing glass that +flanked the dressing-table, he paused as if contemplating his figure +in it. He now returned towards the bed; put on his slippers, and with +cautious and stealthy steps, proceeded towards the little arched +doorway that opened on the private staircase. + +As he drew the bolt, Tom Ingoldsby emerged from his hiding-place; +but the sleep-walker heard him not; he proceeded softly downstairs, +followed at a due distance by his friend; opened the door which led +out upon the gardens; and stood at once among the thickest of the +shrubs, which there clustered round the base of a corner turret, and +screened the postern from common observation. At this moment Ingoldsby +had nearly spoiled all by making a false step: the sound attracted +Seaforth’s attention,--he paused and turned; and, as the full moon shed +her light directly upon his pale and troubled features, Tom marked, +almost with dismay, the fixed and rayless appearance of his eyes. + +The perfect stillness preserved by his follower seemed to reassure +him; he turned aside; and from the midst of a thicket laurustinus +drew forth a gardener’s spade, shouldering which he proceeded with +greater rapidity into the midst of the shrubbery. Arrived at a certain +point where the earth seemed to have been recently disturbed, he +set himself heartily to the task of digging, till, having thrown up +several shovelfuls of mould, he stopped, flung down his tool, and very +composedly began to disencumber himself of his pantaloons. + +Up to this moment Tom had watched him with a wary eye: he now advanced +cautiously, and, as his friend was busily engaged in disentangling +himself from his garment, made himself master of the spade. Seaforth, +meanwhile, had accomplished his purpose: he stood for a moment with +“his streamers waving in the wind,” occupied in carefully rolling up +the small-clothes into as compact a form as possible, and all heedless +of the breath of heaven, which might certainly be supposed at such a +moment, and in such a plight, to “visit his frame too roughly.” + +He was in the act of stooping low to deposit the pantaloons in the +grave which he had been digging for them, when Tom Ingoldsby came close +behind him, and with the flat side of the spade---- + +The shock was effectual--never again was Lieutenant Seaforth known +to act the part of a somnambulist. One by one, his breeches,--his +trousers,--his pantaloons,--his silk-net tights,--his patent +cords,--his showy grays with the broad red stripe of the Bombay +Fencibles were brought to light,--rescued from the grave in which they +had been buried, like the strata of a Christmas pie; and after having +been well aired by Mrs. Botherby, became once again effective. + +The family, the ladies especially, laughed--the Peterses laughed--the +Simpkinsons laughed--Barney Maguire cried “Botheration!” and Ma’mselle +Pauline, “Mon Dieu!” + +Charles Seaforth, unable to face the quizzing which awaited him on all +sides, started off two hours earlier than he had proposed:--he soon +returned, however; and having, at his father-in-law’s request, given up +the occupation of Rajah-hunting and shooting Nabobs, led his blushing +bride to the altar. + + + + +THE MYSTERIOUS SKETCH + +By ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN + + +I + +Opposite the chapel of Saint Sebalt in Nuremberg, at the corner of +Trabaus Street, there stands a little tavern, tall and narrow, with +a toothed gable and dusty windows, whose roof is surmounted by a +plaster Virgin. It was there that I spent the unhappiest days of my +life. I had gone to Nuremberg to study the old German masters; but in +default of ready money, I had to paint portraits--and such portraits! +Fat old women with their cats on their laps, big-wigged aldermen, +burgomasters in three-cornered hats--all horribly bright with ochre and +vermilion. From portraits I descended to sketches, and from sketches to +silhouettes. + +Nothing is more annoying than to have your landlord come to you every +day with pinched lips, shrill voice, and impudent manner to say: “Well, +sir, how soon are you going to pay me? Do you know how much your bill +is? No; that doesn’t worry you! You eat, drink, and sleep calmly +enough. God feeds the sparrows. Your bill now amounts to two hundred +florins and ten kreutzers--it is not worth talking about.” + +Those who have not heard any one talk in this way can form no idea +of it; love of art, imagination, and the sacred enthusiasm for the +beautiful are blasted by the breath of such an attack. You become +awkward and timid; all your energy evaporates, as well as your feeling +of personal dignity, and you bow respectfully at a distance to the +burgomaster Schneegans. + +One night, not having a sou, as usual, and threatened with imprisonment +by this worthy Mister Rap, I determined to make him a bankrupt by +cutting my throat. Seated on my narrow bed, opposite the window, in +this agreeable mood, I gave myself up to a thousand philosophical +reflections, more or less comforting. + +“What is man?” I asked myself. “An omnivorous animal; his jaws, +provided with canines, incisors, and molars, prove it. The canines +are made to tear meat; the incisors to bite fruits; and the molars +to masticate, grind, and triturate animal and vegetable substances +that are pleasant to smell and to taste. But when he has nothing to +masticate, this being is an absurdity in Nature, a superfluity, a fifth +wheel to the coach.” + +Such were my reflections. I dared not open my razor for fear that the +invincible force of my logic would inspire me with the courage to make +an end of it all. After having argued so finely, I blew out my candle, +postponing the sequel till the morrow. + +That abominable Rap had completely stupefied me. I could do nothing but +silhouettes, and my sole desire was to have some money to rid myself +of his odious presence. But on this night a singular change came over +my mind. I awoke about one o’clock--I lit my lamp, and, enveloping +myself in my grey gabardine, I drew upon the paper a rapid sketch after +the Dutch school--something strange and bizarre, which had not the +slightest resemblance to my ordinary conceptions. + +Imagine a dreary courtyard enclosed by high dilapidated walls. These +walls are furnished with hooks, seven or eight feet from the ground. +You see, at a glance, that it is a butchery. + +On the left, there extends a lattice structure; you perceive through +it a quartered beef suspended from the roof by enormous pulleys. Great +pools of blood run over the flagstones and unite in a ditch full of +refuse. + +The light falls above, between the chimneys where the weathercocks +stand out from a bit of the sky the size of your hand, and the roofs of +the neighboring houses throw bold shadows from story to story. + +At the back of this place is a shed, beneath the shed a pile of wood, +and upon the pile of wood some ladders, a few bundles of straw, some +coils of rope, a chicken-coop, and an old dilapidated rabbit-hutch. + +How did these heterogeneous details suggest themselves to my +imagination? I don’t know; I had no reminiscences, and yet every stroke +of the pencil seemed the result of observation, and strange because it +was all so true. Nothing was lacking. + +But on the right, one corner of the sketch remained a blank. I did not +know what to put there.... Something suddenly seemed to writhe there, +to move. Then I saw a foot, the sole of a foot. Notwithstanding this +improbable position, I followed my inspiration without reference to my +own criticism. This foot was joined to a leg--over this leg, stretched +out with effort, there soon floated the skirt of a dress. In short, +there appeared by degrees an old woman, pale, dishevelled, and wasted, +thrown down at the side of a well, and struggling to free herself from +a hand that clutched her throat. + +It was a murder scene that I was drawing. The pencil fell from my hand. + +This woman, in the boldest attitude, with her thighs bent on the curb +of the well, her face contracted by terror, and her two hands grasping +the murderer’s arm, frightened me. I could not look at her. But the +man--he, the person to whom that arm belonged--I could not see him. It +was impossible for me to finish the sketch. + +“I am tired,” I said, my forehead dripping with perspiration; “there +is only this figure to do; I will finish it tomorrow. It will be easy +then.” + +And again I went to bed, thoroughly frightened by my vision. + +The next morning, I got up very early. I was dressing in order to +resume my interrupted work, when two little knocks were heard on my +door. + +“Come in!” + +The door opened. An old man, tall, thin, and dressed in black, appeared +on the threshold. This man’s face, his eyes set close together and +his large nose like the beak of an eagle, surmounted by a high bony +forehead, had something severe about it. He bowed to me gravely. + +“Mister Christian Vénius, the painter?” said he. + +“That is my name, sir.” + +He bowed again, adding: + +“The Baron Frederick Van Spreckdal.” + +The appearance of the rich amateur, Van Spreckdal, judge of the +criminal court, in my poor lodging, greatly disturbed me. I could not +help throwing a stealthy glance at my old worm-eaten furniture, my damp +hangings and my dusty floor. I felt humiliated by such dilapidation; +but Van Spreckdal did not seem to take any account of these details; +and sitting down at my little table: + +“Mister Vénius,” he resumed, “I come----” But at this instant his +glance fell upon the unfinished sketch--he did not finish his phrase. + +I was sitting on the edge of my little bed; and the sudden attention +that this personage bestowed upon one of my productions made my heart +beat with an indefinable apprehension. + +At the end of a minute, Van Spreckdal lifted his head: + +“Are you the author of that sketch?” he asked me with an intent look. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“What is the price of it?” + +“I never sell my sketches. It is the plan for a picture.” + +“Ah!” said he, picking up the paper with the tips of his long yellow +fingers. + +He took a lens from his waistcoat pocket and began to study the design +in silence. + +The sun was now shining obliquely into the garret. Van Spreckdal never +said a word; the hook of his immense nose increased, his heavy eyebrows +contracted, and his long pointed chin took a turn upward, making a +thousand little wrinkles in his long, thin cheeks. The silence was so +profound that I could distinctly hear the plaintive buzzing of a fly +that had been caught in a spider’s web. + +“And the dimensions of this picture, Mister Vénius?” he said without +looking at me. + +“Three feet by four.” + +“The price?” + +“Fifty ducats.” + +Van Spreckdal laid the sketch on the table, and drew from his pockets +a large purse of green silk shaped like a pear; he drew the rings of +it---- + +“Fifty ducats,” said he, “here they are.” + +I was simply dazzled. + +The Baron rose and bowed to me, and I heard his big ivory-headed cane +resounding on each step until he reached the bottom of the stairs. +Then recovering from my stupor, I suddenly remembered that I had not +thanked him, and I flew down the five flights like lightning; but when +I reached the bottom, I looked to the right and left; the street was +deserted. + +“Well,” I said, “this is strange.” + +And I went upstairs again all out of breath. + + +II + +The surprising way in which Van Spreckdal had appeared to me threw me +into deep wonderment. “Yesterday,” I said to myself, as I contemplated +the pile of ducats glittering in the sun, “yesterday I formed the +wicked intention of cutting my throat, all for the want of a few +miserable florins, and now today Fortune has showered them from the +clouds. Indeed it was fortunate that I did not open my razor; and, if +the same intention ever comes to me again, I will take care to wait +until the morrow.” + +After making these judicious reflections, I sat down to finish the +sketch; four strokes of the pencil and it would be finished. But here +an incomprehensible difficulty awaited me. It was impossible for me +to take those four sweeps of the pencil; I had lost the thread of my +inspiration, and the mysterious personage no longer stood out in my +brain. I tried in vain to evoke him, to sketch him, and to recover him; +he no more accorded with the surroundings than with a figure by Raphael +in a Teniers inn-kitchen. I broke out into a profuse perspiration. + +At this moment, Rap opened the door without knocking, according to his +praiseworthy custom. His eyes fell upon my pile of ducats and in a +shrill voice he cried: + +“Eh! eh! so I catch. Will you persist in telling me, Mr. Painter, that +you have no money?” + +And his hooked fingers advanced with that nervous trembling that the +sight of gold always produces in a miser. + +For a few seconds I was stupefied. + +The memory of all the indignities that this individual had inflicted +upon me, his covetous look, and his impudent smile exasperated me. With +a single bound, I caught hold of him, and pushed him out of the room, +slamming the door in his face. + +This was done with the crack and rapidity of a spring snuff-box. + +But from outside the old usurer screamed like an eagle: + +“My money, you thief, my money!” + +The lodgers came out of their rooms, asking: + +“What is the matter? What has happened?” + +I opened the door suddenly and quickly gave Mister Rap a kick in the +spine that sent him rolling down more than twenty steps. + +“That’s what’s the matter!” I cried quite beside myself. Then I shut +the door and bolted it, while bursts of laughter from the neighbors +greeted Mister Rap in the passage. + +I was satisfied with myself; I rubbed my hands together. This adventure +had put new life into me; I resumed my work, and was about to finish +the sketch when I heard an unusual noise. + +Butts of muskets were grounded on the pavement. I looked out of my +window and saw three soldiers in full uniform with grounded arms in +front of my door. + +I said to myself in my terror: “Can it be that that scoundrel of a Rap +has had any bones broken?” + +And here is the strange peculiarity of the human mind: I, who the +night before had wanted to cut my own throat, shook from head to foot, +thinking that I might well be hanged if Rap were dead. + +The stairway was filled with confused noises. It was an ascending flood +of heavy footsteps, clanking arms, and short syllables. + +Suddenly somebody tried to open my door. It was shut. + +Then there was a general clamor. + +“In the name of the law--open!” + +I arose trembling, and weak in the knees. + +“Open!” the same voice repeated. + +I thought to escape over the roofs; but I had hardly put my head out +of the little snuff-box window, when I drew back, seized with vertigo. +I saw in a flash all the windows below with their shining panes, their +flowerpots, their bird-cages, and their gratings. Lower, the balcony; +still lower, the street-lamp; still lower again, the sign of the “Red +Cask” framed in iron-work; and, finally three glittering bayonets, +only awaiting my fall to run me through the body from the sole of my +foot to the crown of my head. On the roof of the opposite house a +tortoise-shell cat was crouching behind a chimney, watching a band of +sparrows fighting and scolding in the gutter. + +One cannot imagine to what clearness, intensity, and rapidity the human +eye acquires when stimulated by fear. + +At the third summons I heard: + +“Open, or we shall force it!” + +Seeing that flight was impossible, I staggered to the door and drew the +bolt. + +Two hands immediately fell upon my collar. A dumpy little man, smelling +of wine, said: + +“I arrest you!” + +He wore a bottle-green redingote, buttoned to the chin, and a stovepipe +hat. He had large brown whiskers, rings on every finger, and was named +Passauf. + +He was the chief of police. + +Five bull-dogs with flat caps, noses like pistols, and lower jaws +turning upward, observed me from outside. + +“What do you want?” I asked Passauf. + +“Come downstairs,” he cried roughly, as he gave a sign to one of his +men to seize me. + +This man took hold of me, more dead than alive, while several other men +turned my room upside down. + +I went downstairs supported by the arms like a person in the last +stages of consumption--with hair dishevelled and stumbling at every +step. + +They thrust me into a cab between two strong fellows, who charitably +let me see the ends of their clubs, held to their wrists by a leather +string--and then the carriage started off. + +I heard behind us the feet of all the urchins of the town. + +“What have I done?” I asked one of my keepers. + +He looked at the other with a strange smile and said: + +“Hans--he asks what he has done!” + +That smile froze my blood. + +Soon a deep shadow enveloped the carriage; the horses’ hoofs resounded +under an archway. We were entering the Raspelhaus. Of this place one +might say: + + “Dans cet antre, + Je vois fort bien comme l’on entre, + Et ne vois point comme on en sort.” + +All is not rose-colored in this world; from the claws of Rap I fell +into a dungeon, from which very few poor devils have a chance to escape. + +Large dark courtyards and rows of windows like a hospital, and +furnished with gratings; not a sprig of verdure, not a festoon of ivy, +not even a weathercock in perspective--such was my new lodging. It was +enough to make one tear his hair out by the roots. + +The police officers, accompanied by the jailer, took me temporarily to +a lock-up. + +The jailer, if I remember rightly, was named Kasper Schlüssel; with his +grey woollen cap, his pipe between his teeth, and his bunch of keys at +his belt, he reminded me of the Owl-God of the Caribs. He had the same +golden yellow eyes, that see in the dark, a nose like a comma, and a +neck that was sunk between the shoulders. + +Schlüssel shut me up as calmly as one locks up his socks in a cupboard, +while thinking of something else. As for me, I stood for more than ten +minutes with my hands behind my back and my head bowed. At the end of +that time I made the following reflection: “When falling, Rap cried +out, ‘I am assassinated,’ but he did not say by whom. I will say it was +my neighbor, the old merchant with the spectacles: he will be hanged in +my place.” + +This idea comforted my heart, and I drew a long breath. Then I looked +about my prison. It seemed to have been newly whitewashed, and the +walls were bare of designs, except in one corner, where a gallows had +been crudely sketched by my predecessor. The light was admitted through +a bull’s-eye about nine or ten feet from the floor; the furniture +consisted of a bundle of straw and a tub. + +I sat down upon the straw with my hands around my knees in deep +despondency. It was with great difficulty that I could think clearly; +but suddenly imagining that Rap, before dying, had denounced me, my +legs began to tingle, and I jumped up coughing, as if the hempen cord +were already tightening around my neck. + +At the same moment, I heard Schlüssel walking down the corridor; +he opened the lock-up, and told me to follow him. He was still +accompanied by the two officers, so I fell into step resolutely. + +We walked down long galleries, lighted at intervals by small windows +from within. Behind a grating I saw the famous Jic-Jack, who was going +to be executed on the morrow. He had on a strait-jacket and sang out in +a raucous voice: + + “Je suis le roi de ces montagnes.” + +Seeing me, he called out: + +“Eh! comrade! I’ll keep a place for you at my right.” + +The two police officers and the Owl-God looked at each other and +smiled, while I felt the goose-flesh creep down the whole length of my +back. + + +III + +Schlüssel shoved me into a large and very dreary hall, with benches +arranged in a semicircle. The appearance of this deserted hall, with +its two high grated windows, and its Christ carved in old brown oak +with His arms extended and His head sorrowfully inclined upon His +shoulder, inspired me with I do not know what kind of religious fear +that accorded with my actual situation. + +All my ideas of false accusation disappeared, and my lips trembling +murmured a prayer. + +I had not prayed for a long time; but misfortune always brings us to +thoughts of submission. Man is so little in himself! + +Opposite me, on an elevated seat, two men were sitting with their backs +to the light, and consequently their faces were in shadow. However, I +recognized Van Spreckdal by his aquiline profile, illuminated by an +oblique reflection from the window. The other person was fat, he had +round, chubby cheeks and short hands, and he wore a robe, like Van +Spreckdal. + +Below was the clerk of the court, Conrad; he was writing at a low table +and was tickling the tip of his ear with the feather-end of his pen. +When I entered, he stopped to look at me curiously. + +They made me sit down, and Van Spreckdal, raising his voice, said to me: + +“Christian Vénius, where did you get this sketch?” + +He showed me the nocturnal sketch which was then in his possession. It +was handed to me. After having examined it, I replied: + +“I am the author of it.” + +A long silence followed; the clerk of the court, Conrad, wrote down my +reply. I heard his pen scratch over the paper, and I thought: “Why did +they ask me that question? That has nothing to do with the kick I gave +Rap in the back.” + +“You are the author of it?” asked Van Spreckdal. “What is the subject?” + +“It is a subject of pure fancy.” + +“You have not copied the details from some spot?” + +“No, sir; I imagined it all.” + +“Accused Christian,” said the judge in a severe tone, “I ask you to +reflect. Do not lie.” + +“I have spoken the truth.” + +“Write that down, clerk,” said Van Spreckdal. + +The pen scratched again. + +“And this woman,” continued the judge--“this woman who is being +murdered at the side of the well--did you imagine her also?” + +“Certainly.” + +“You have never seen her?” + +“Never.” + +Van Spreckdal rose indignantly; then, sitting down again, he seemed to +consult his companion in a low voice. + +These two dark profiles silhouetted against the brightness of the +window, and the three men standing behind me, the silence in the +hall--everything made me shiver. + +“What do you want with me? What have I done?” I murmured. + +Suddenly Van Spreckdal said to my guardians: + +“You can take the prisoner back to the carriage; we will go to +Metzerstrasse.” + +Then, addressing me: + +“Christian Vénius,” he cried, “you are in a deplorable situation. +Collect your thoughts and remember that if the law of man is +inflexible, there still remains for you the mercy of God. This you can +merit by confessing your crime.” + +These words stunned me like a blow from a hammer. I fell back with +extended arms, crying: + +“Ah! what a terrible dream!” + +And I fainted. + +When I regained consciousness, the carriage was rolling slowly down +the street; another one preceded us. The two officers were always with +me. One of them on the way offered a pinch of snuff to his companion; +mechanically I reached out my hand toward the snuff-box, but he +withdrew it quickly. + +My cheeks reddened with shame, and I turned away my head to conceal my +emotion. + +“If you look outside,” said the man with the snuff-box, “we shall be +obliged to put handcuffs on you.” + +“May the devil strangle you, you infernal scoundrel!” I said to myself. +And as the carriage now stopped, one of them got out, while the other +held me by the collar; then, seeing that his comrade was ready to +receive me, he pushed me rudely to him. + +These infinite precautions to hold possession of my person boded no +good; but I was far from predicting the seriousness of the accusation +that hung over my head until an alarming circumstance opened my eyes +and threw me into despair. + +They pushed me along a low alley, the pavement of which was unequal and +broken; along the wall there ran a yellowish ooze, exhaling a fetid +odor. I walked down this dark place with the two men behind me. A +little further there appeared the chiaroscuro of an interior courtyard. + +I grew more and more terror-stricken as I advanced. It was no natural +feeling: it was a poignant anxiety, outside of nature--like a +nightmare. I recoiled instinctively at each step. + +“Go on!” cried one of the policemen, laying his hand on my shoulder; +“go on!” + +But what was my astonishment when, at the end of the passage, I saw the +courtyard that I had drawn the night before, with its walls furnished +with hooks, its rubbish-heap of old iron, its chicken-coops, and its +rabbit-hutch. Not a dormer window, high or low, not a broken pane, not +the slightest detail had been omitted. + +I was thunderstruck by this strange revelation. + +Near the well were the two judges, Van Spreckdal and Richter. At their +feet lay the old woman extended on her back, her long, thin, gray hair, +her blue face, her eyes wide open, and her tongue between her teeth. + +It was a horrible spectacle! + +“Well,” said Van Spreckdal, with solemn accents, “what have you to say?” + +I did not reply. + +“Do you remember having thrown this woman, Theresa Becker, into this +well, after having strangled her to rob her of her money?” + +“No,” I cried, “no! I do not know this woman; I never saw her before. +May God help me!” + +“That will do,” he replied in a dry voice. And without saying another +word he went out with his companion. + +The officers now believed that they had best put handcuffs on me. They +took me back to the Raspelhaus, in a state of profound stupidity. I did +not know what to think; my conscience itself troubled me; I even asked +myself if I really had murdered the old woman! + +In the eyes of the officers I was condemned. + +I will not tell you of my emotions that night in the Raspelhaus, when, +seated on my straw bed with the window opposite me and the gallows in +perspective, I heard the watchmen cry in the silence of the night: +“Sleep, people of Nuremberg; the Lord watches over you. One o’clock! +Two o’clock! Three o’clock!” + +Every one may form his own idea of such a night. There is a fine saying +that it is better to be hanged innocent than guilty. For the soul, +yes; but for the body, it makes no difference; on the contrary, it +kicks, it curses its lot, it tries to escape, knowing well enough that +its rôle ends with the rope. Add to this, that it repents not having +sufficiently enjoyed life and at having listened to the soul when it +preached abstinence. + +“Ah! if I had only known!” it cried, “you would not have led me +around by a string with your big words, your beautiful phrases, and +your magnificent sentences! You would not have allured me with your +fine promises. I should have had many happy moments that are now lost +forever. Everything is over! You said to me: ‘Control your passions.’ +Very well! I did control them. Here I am now. They are going to hang +me, and you--later they will speak of you as a sublime soul, a stoical +soul, a martyr to the errors of Justice. They will never think about +me!” + +Such were the sad reflections of my poor body. + +Day broke; at first, dull and undecided, it threw an uncertain light +on my bull’s-eye window with its crossbars; then it blazed against +the wall at the back. Outside the street became lively. This was a +market-day; it was Friday. I heard the vegetable wagons pass and also +the country people with their baskets. Some chickens cackled in their +coops in passing and some butter sellers chattered together. The market +opposite opened, and they began to arrange the stalls. + +Finally it was broad daylight and the vast murmur of the increasing +crowd, housekeepers who assembled with baskets on their arms, coming +and going, discussing and marketing, told me that it was eight o’clock. + +With the light, my heart gained a little courage. Some of my black +thoughts disappeared. I desired to see what was going on outside. + +Other prisoners before me had managed to climb up to the bull’s-eye; +they had dug some holes in the wall to mount more easily. I climbed +in my turn, and, when seated in the oval edge of the window, with my +legs bent and my head bowed, I could see the crowd, and all the life +and movement. Tears ran freely down my cheeks. I thought no longer of +suicide--I experienced a need to live and breathe, which was really +extraordinary. + +“Ah!” I said, “to live what happiness! Let them harness me to a +wheelbarrow--let them put a ball and chain around my leg--nothing +matters if I may only live!” + +The old market, with its roof shaped like an extinguisher, supported +on heavy pillars, made a superb picture: old women seated before their +panniers of vegetables, their cages of poultry and their baskets of +eggs; behind them the Jews, dealers in old clothes, their faces the +color of old boxwood; butchers with bare arms, cutting up meat on their +stalls; countrymen, with large hats on the backs of their heads, calm +and grave with their hands behind their backs and resting on their +sticks of hollywood, and tranquilly smoking their pipes. Then the +tumult and noise of the crowd--those screaming, shrill, grave, high, +and short words--those expressive gestures--those sudden attitudes that +show from a distance the progress of a discussion and depict so well +the character of the individual--in short, all this captivated my mind, +and notwithstanding my sad condition, I felt happy to be still of the +world. + +Now, while I looked about in this manner, a man--a butcher--passed, +inclining forward and carrying an enormous quarter of beef on his +shoulders; his arms were bare, his elbows were raised upward and his +head was bent under them. His long hair, like that of Salvator’s +Sicambrian, hid his face from me; and yet, at the first glance, I +trembled. + +“It is he!” I said. + +All the blood in my body rushed to my heart. I got down from the window +trembling to the ends of my fingers, feeling my cheeks quiver, and the +pallor spread over my face, stammering in a choked voice: + +“It is he! he is there--there--and I, I have to die to expiate his +crime. Oh, God! what shall I do? What shall I do?” + +A sudden idea, an inspiration from Heaven, flashed across my mind. I +put my hand in the pocket of my coat--my box of crayons was there! + +Then rushing to the wall, I began to trace the scene of the murder with +superhuman energy. No uncertainty, no hesitation! I knew the man! I had +seen him! He was there before me! + +At ten o’clock the jailer came to my cell. His owl-like impassibility +gave place to admiration. + +“Is it possible?” he cried, standing at the threshold. + +“Go, bring me my judges,” I said to him, pursuing my work with an +increasing exultation. + +Schlüssel answered: + +“They are waiting for you in the trial-room.” + +“I wish to make a revelation,” I cried, as I put the finishing touches +to the mysterious personage. + +He lived; he was frightful to see. His full-faced figure, foreshortened +upon the wall, stood out from the white background with an astonishing +vitality. + +The jailer went away. + +A few minutes afterward the two judges appeared. They were stupefied. +I, trembling, with extended hand, said to them: + +“There is the murderer!” + +After a few minutes of silence, Van Spreckdal asked me: + +“What is his name?” + +“I don’t know; but he is at this moment in the market; he is cutting up +meat in the third stall to the left as you enter from Trabaus Street.” + +“What do you think?” said he, leaning toward his colleague. + +“Send for the man,” he replied in a grave tone. + +Several officers retained in the corridor obeyed this order. The judges +stood, examining the sketch. As for me, I had dropped on my bed of +straw, my head between my knees, perfectly exhausted. + +Soon steps were heard echoing under the archway. Those who have never +awaited the hour of deliverance and counted the minutes, which seem +like centuries--those who have never experienced the sharp emotions of +outrage, terror, hope, and doubt--can have no conception of the inward +chills that I experienced at that moment. I should have distinguished +the step of the murderer, walking between the guards, among a thousand +others. They approached. The judges themselves seemed moved. I raised +up my head, my heart feeling as if an iron hand had clutched it, and +I fixed my eyes upon the closed door. It opened. The man entered. His +cheeks were red and swollen, the muscles in his large contracted jaws +twitched as far as his ears, and his little restless eyes, yellow like +a wolf’s, gleamed beneath his heavy yellowish red eyebrows. + +Van Spreckdal showed him the sketch in silence. + +Then that murderous man, with the large shoulders, having looked, grew +pale--then, giving a roar which thrilled us all with terror, he waved +his enormous arms, and jumped backward to overthrow the guards. There +was a terrible struggle in the corridor; you could hear nothing but the +panting breath of the butcher, his muttered imprecations, and the short +words and the shuffling feet of the guard, upon the flagstones. + +This lasted only about a minute. + +Finally the assassin re-entered, with his head hanging down, his eyes +bloodshot, and his hands fastened behind his back. He looked again at +the picture of the murderer; he seemed to reflect, and then, in a low +voice, as if talking to himself: + +“Who could have seen me,” he said, “at midnight?” + +I was saved! + + * * * * * + +Many years have passed since that terrible adventure. Thank Heaven! I +make silhouettes no longer, nor portraits of burgomasters. Through hard +work and perseverance, I have conquered my place in the world, and I +earn my living honorably by painting works of art--the sole end, in my +opinion, to which a true artist should aspire. But the memory of that +nocturnal sketch has always remained in my mind. Sometimes, in the +midst of work, the thought of it recurs. Then I lay down my palette and +dream for hours. + +How could a crime committed by a man that I did not know--at a place +that I had never seen--have been reproduced by my pencil, in all its +smallest details? + +Was it chance? No! And moreover, what is chance but the effect of a +cause of which we are ignorant? + +Was Schiller right when he said: “The immortal soul does not +participate in the weaknesses of matter; during the sleep of the body, +it spreads its radiant wings and travels, God knows where! What it then +does, no one can say, but inspiration sometimes betrays the secret of +its nocturnal wanderings.” + +Who knows? Nature is more audacious in her realities than man in his +most fantastic imagining. + + + + +THE DESERTED HOUSE + +By ERNEST T. W. HOFFMANN + + +You know already that I spent the greater part of last summer in +X----, began Theodore. The many old friends and acquaintances I found +there, the free, jovial life, the manifold artistic and intellectual +interests--all these combined to keep me in that city. I was happy +as never before, and found rich nourishment for my old fondness for +wandering alone through the streets, stopping to enjoy every picture +in the shop windows, every placard on the walls, or watching the +passers-by and choosing some one or the other of them to cast his +horoscope secretly to myself. + +There is one broad avenue leading to the ---- Gate and lined with +handsome buildings of all descriptions, which is the meeting place +of the rich and fashionable world. The shops which occupy the ground +floor of the tall palaces are devoted to the trade in articles of +luxury, and the apartments above are the dwellings of people of wealth +and position. The aristocratic hotels are to be found in this avenue, +the palaces of the foreign ambassadors are there, and you can easily +imagine that such a street would be the centre of the city’s life and +gaiety. + +I had wandered through the avenue several times, when one day my +attention was caught by a house which contrasted strangely with the +others surrounding it. Picture to yourselves a low building but four +windows broad, crowded in between two tall, handsome structures. Its +one upper story was a little higher than the tops of the ground-floor +windows of its neighbors, its roof was dilapidated, its windows patched +with paper, its discolored walls spoke of years of neglect. You can +imagine how strange such a house must have looked in this street of +wealth and fashion. Looking at it more attentively I perceived that +the windows of the upper story were tightly closed and curtained, and +that a wall had been built to hide the windows of the ground floor. The +entrance gate, a little to one side, served also as a doorway for the +building, but I could find no sign of latch, lock, or even a bell on +this gate. I was convinced that the house must be unoccupied, for at +whatever hour of the day I happened to be passing I had never seen the +faintest signs of life about it. + +You all, the good comrades of my youth, know that I have been prone to +consider myself a sort of clairvoyant, claiming to have glimpses of +a strange world of wonders, a world which you, with your hard common +sense, would attempt to deny or laugh away. I confess that I have often +lost myself in mysteries which after all turned out to be no mysteries +at all. And it looked at first as if this was to happen to me in the +matter of the deserted house, that strange house which drew my steps +and my thoughts to itself with a power that surprised me. But the +point of my story will prove to you that I am right in asserting that I +know more than you do. Listen now to what I am about to tell you. + +One day, at the hour in which the fashionable world is accustomed to +promenade up and down the avenue, I stood as usual before the deserted +house, lost in thought. Suddenly I felt, without looking up, that some +one had stopped beside me, fixing his eyes on me. It was Count P----, +who told me that the old house contained nothing more mysterious than a +cake bakery belonging to the pastry cook whose handsome shop adjoined +the old structure. The windows of the ground floor were walled up to +give protection to the ovens, and the heavy curtains of the upper story +were to keep the sunlight from the wares laid out there. When the +Count informed me of this I felt as if a bucket of cold water had been +suddenly thrown over me. But I could not believe in this story of the +cake and candy factory. Through some strange freak of the imagination I +felt as a child feels when some fairy tale has been told it to conceal +the truth it suspects. I scolded myself for a silly fool; the house +remained unaltered in its appearance, and the visions faded in my +brain, until one day a chance incident woke them to life again. + +I was wandering through the avenue as usual, and as I passed the +deserted house I could not resist a hasty glance at its close-curtained +upper windows. But as I looked at it, the curtain on the last window +near the pastry shop began to move. A hand, an arm, came out from +between its folds. I took my opera glass from my pocket and saw a +beautifully formed woman’s hand, on the little finger of which a large +diamond sparkled in unusual brilliancy; a rich bracelet glittered on +the white, rounded arm. The hand set a tall, oddly-formed crystal +bottle on the window ledge and disappeared again behind the curtain. + +I stopped as if frozen to stone; a weirdly pleasurable sensation, +mingled with awe, streamed through my being with the warmth of an +electric current. I stared up at the mysterious window and a sigh +of longing arose from the very depths of my heart. When I came to +myself again, I was angered to find that I was surrounded by a crowd +which stood gazing up at the window with curious faces. I stole away +inconspicuously, and the demon of all things prosaic whispered to me +that what I had just seen was the rich pastry cook’s wife, in her +Sunday adornment, placing an empty bottle, used for rose-water or the +like, on the window sill. Nothing very weird about this. + +Suddenly a most sensible thought came to me. I turned and entered the +shining, mirror-walled shop of the pastry cook. Blowing the steaming +foam from my cup of chocolate, I remarked: “You have a very useful +addition to your establishment next door.” The man leaned over his +counter and looked at me with a questioning smile, as if he did not +understand me. I repeated that in my opinion he had been very clever +to set his bakery in the neighboring house, although the deserted +appearance of the building was a strange sight in its contrasting +surroundings. “Why, sir,” began the pastry cook, “who told you that the +house next door belongs to us? Unfortunately every attempt on our part +to acquire it has been in vain, and I fancy it is all the better so, +for there is something queer about the place.” + +You can imagine, dear friends, how interested I became upon hearing +these words, and that I begged the man to tell me more about the house. + +“I do not know anything very definite, sir,” he said. “All that we +know for a certainty is that the house belongs to the Countess S----, +who lives on her estates and has not been to the city for years. This +house, so they tell me, stood in its present shape before any of the +handsome buildings were raised which are now the pride of our avenue, +and in all these years there has been nothing done to it except to keep +it from actual decay. Two living creatures alone dwell there, an aged +misanthrope of a steward and his melancholy dog, which occasionally +howls at the moon from the back courtyard. According to the general +story the deserted house is haunted. In very truth my brother, who is +the owner of this shop, and myself have often, when our business kept +us awake during the silence of the night, heard strange sounds from +the other side of the walls. There was a rumbling and a scraping that +frightened us both. And not very long ago we heard one night a strange +singing which I could not describe to you. It was evidently the voice +of an old woman, but the tones were so sharp and clear, and ran up to +the top of the scale in cadences and long trills, the like of which I +have never heard before, although I have heard many singers in many +lands. It seemed to be a French song, but I am not quite sure of that, +for I could not listen long to the mad, ghostly singing, it made the +hair stand erect on my head. And at times, after the street noises are +quiet, we can hear deep sighs, and sometimes a mad laugh, which seem +to come out of the earth. But if you lay your ear to the wall in our +back room, you can hear that the noises come from the house next door.” +He led me into the back room and pointed through the window. “And do +you see that iron chimney coming out of the wall there? It smokes so +heavily sometimes, even in summer when there are no fires used, that +my brother has often quarrelled with the old steward about it, fearing +danger. But the old man excuses himself by saying that he was cooking +his food. Heaven knows what the queer creature may eat, for often, when +the pipe is smoking heavily, a strange and queer smell can be smelled +all over the house.” + +The glass doors of the shop creaked in opening. The pastry cook hurried +into the front room, and when he had nodded to the figure now entering +he threw a meaning glance at me. I understood him perfectly. Who else +could this strange guest be, but the steward who had charge of the +mysterious house! Imagine a thin little man with a face the color of +a mummy, with a sharp nose, tight-set lips, green cat’s eyes, and a +crazy smile; his hair dressed in the old-fashioned style with a high +toupet and a bag at the back, and heavily powdered. He wore a faded +old brown coat which was carefully brushed, gray stockings, and broad, +flat-toed shoes with buckles. And imagine further, that in spite of +his meagreness this little person is robustly built, with huge fists +and long, strong fingers, and that he walks to the shop counter with +a strong, firm step, smiling his imbecile smile, and whining out: “A +couple of candied oranges--a couple of macaroons--a couple of sugared +chestnuts----” + +The pastry cook smiled at me and then spoke to the old man. “You do +not seem to be quite well. Yes, yes, old age, old age! It takes the +strength from our limbs.” The old man’s expression did not change, +but his voice went up: “Old age?--Old age?--Lose strength?--Grow +weak?--Oho!” And with this he clapped his hands together until the +joints cracked, and sprang high up into the air until the entire shop +trembled and the glass vessels on the walls and counters rattled and +shook. But in the same moment a hideous screaming was heard; the old +man had stepped on his black dog, which, creeping in behind him, had +laid itself at his feet on the floor. “Devilish beast--dog of hell!” +groaned the old man in his former miserable tone, opening his bag and +giving the dog a large macaroon. The dog, which had burst out into a +cry of distress that was truly human, was quiet at once, sat down on +its haunches, and gnawed at the macaroon like a squirrel. When it +had finished its tidbit, the old man had also finished the packing up +and putting away of his purchases. “Good night, honored neighbor,” he +spoke, taking the hand of the pastry cook and pressing it until the +latter cried aloud in pain. “The weak old man wishes you a good night, +most honorable Sir Neighbor,” he repeated, and then walked from the +shop, followed closely by his black dog. The old man did not seem to +have noticed me at all. I was quite dumbfounded in my astonishment. + +“There, you see,” began the pastry cook. “This is the way he acts +when he comes in here, two or three times a month, it is. But I can +get nothing out of him except the fact that he was a former valet of +Count S----, that he is now in charge of this house here, and that +every day--for many years now--he expects the arrival of his master’s +family.” The hour was now come when fashion demanded that the elegant +world of the city should assemble in this attractive shop. The doors +opened incessantly, the place was thronged, and I could ask no further +questions. + +This much I knew, that Count P----’s information about the ownership +and the use of the house were not correct; also, that the old steward, +in spite of his denial, was not living alone there, and that some +mystery was hidden behind its discolored walls. How could I combine +the story of the strange and gruesome singing with the appearance +of the beautiful arm at the window? That arm could not be part of +the wrinkled body of an old woman; the singing, according to the +pastry cook’s story, could not come from the throat of a blooming +and youthful maiden. I decided in favor of the arm, as it was easy +to explain to myself that some trick of acoustics had made the voice +sound sharp and old, or that it had appeared so only in the pastry +cook’s fear-distorted imagination. Then I thought of the smoke, the +strange odors, the oddly-formed crystal bottle that I had seen, and +soon the vision of a beautiful creature held enthralled by fatal magic +stood as if alive before my mental vision. The old man became a wizard +who, perhaps quite independently of the family he served, had set up +his devil’s kitchen in the deserted house. My imagination had begun +to work, and in my dreams that night I saw clearly the hand with the +sparkling diamond on its finger, the arm with the shining bracelet. +From out thin, gray mists there appeared a sweet face with sadly +imploring blue eyes, then the entire exquisite figure of a beautiful +girl. And I saw that what I had thought was mist was the fine steam +flowing out in circles from a crystal bottle held in the hands of the +vision. + +“Oh, fairest creature of my dreams,” I cried in rapture, “reveal to me +where thou art, what it is that enthralls thee. Ah, I know it! It is +black magic that holds thee captive--thou art the unhappy slave of that +malicious devil who wanders about brown-clad and bewigged in pastry +shops, scattering their wares with his unholy springing and feeding his +demon dog on macaroons, after they have howled out a Satanic measure in +five-eighth time. Oh, I know it all, thou fair and charming vision. +The diamond is the reflection of the fire of thy heart. But that +bracelet about thine arm is a link of the chain which the brown-clad +one says is a magnetic chain. Do not believe it, O glorious one! See +how it shines in the blue fire from the retort. One moment more and +thou art free. And now, O maiden, open thy rosebud mouth and tell +me----” In this moment a gnarled fist leaped over my shoulder and +clutched at the crystal bottle, which sprang into a thousand pieces in +the air. With a faint, sad moan, the charming vision faded into the +blackness of the night. + +When morning came to put an end to my dreaming I hurried through +the avenue, seeking the deserted house as usual and I saw something +glistening in the last window of the upper story. Coming nearer I +noticed that the outer blind had been quite drawn up and the inner +curtain slightly opened. The sparkle of a diamond met my eye. O kind +Heaven! The face of my dream looked at me, gently imploring, from above +the rounded arm on which her head was resting. But how was it possible +to stand still in the moving crowd without attracting attention? +Suddenly I caught sight of the benches placed in the gravel walk in the +centre of the avenue, and I saw that one of them was directly opposite +the house. I sprang over to it, and leaning over its back, I could +stare up at the mysterious window undisturbed. Yes, it was she, the +charming maiden of my dream! But her eye did not seem to seek me as I +had at first thought; her glance was cold and unfocused, and had it +not been for an occasional motion of the hand and arm, I might have +thought that I was looking at a cleverly painted picture. + +I was so lost in my adoration of the mysterious being in the window, +so aroused and excited throughout all my nerve centres, that I did +not hear the shrill voice of an Italian street hawker, who had been +offering me his wares for some time. Finally he touched me on the arm; +I turned hastily and commanded him to let me alone. But he did not +cease his entreaties, asserting that he had earned nothing today, and +begging me to buy some small trifle from him. Full of impatience to get +rid of him I put my hand in my pocket. With the words: “I have more +beautiful things here,” he opened the under drawer of his box and held +out to me a little, round pocket mirror. In it, as he held it up before +my face, I could see the deserted house behind me, the window, and the +sweet face of my vision there. + +I bought the little mirror at once, for I saw that it would make it +possible for me to sit comfortably and inconspicuously, and yet watch +the window. The longer I looked at the reflection in the glass, the +more I fell captive to a weird and quite indescribable sensation, which +I might almost call a waking dream. It was as if a lethargy had lamed +my eyes, holding them fastened on the glass beyond my power to loosen +them. And now at last the beautiful eyes of the fair vision looked at +me, her glance sought mine and shone deep down into my heart. + +“You have a pretty little mirror there,” said a voice beside me. I +awoke from my dream, and was not a little confused when I saw smiling +faces looking at me from either side. Several persons had sat down upon +the bench, and it was quite certain that my staring into the window, +and my probably strange expression, had afforded them great cause for +amusement. + +“You have a pretty little mirror there,” repeated the man, as I did not +answer him. His glance said more, and asked without words the reason +of my staring so oddly into the little glass. He was an elderly man, +neatly dressed, and his voice and eyes were so full of good nature +that I could not refuse him my confidence. I told him that I had been +looking in the mirror at the picture of a beautiful maiden who was +sitting at a window of the deserted house. I went even farther; I asked +the old man if he had not seen the fair face himself. “Over there? In +the old house--in the last window?” He repeated my questions in a tone +of surprise. + +“Yes, yes,” I exclaimed. + +The old man smiled and answered: “Well, well, that was a strange +delusion. My old eyes--thank Heaven for my old eyes! Yes, yes, sir. I +saw a pretty face in the window there, with my own eyes; but it seemed +to me to be an excellently well-painted oil portrait.” + +I turned quickly and looked toward the window; there was no one there, +and the blind had been pulled down. “Yes,” continued the old man, “yes, +sir. Now it is too late to make sure of the matter, for just now the +servant, who, as I know, lives there alone in the house of the Countess +S----, took the picture away from the window after he had dusted it, +and let down the blinds.” + +“Was it, then, surely a picture?” I asked again, in bewilderment. + +“You can trust my eyes,” replied the old man. “The optical delusion +was strengthened by your seeing only the reflection in the mirror. And +when I was in your years it was easy enough for my fancy to call up the +picture of a beautiful maiden.” + +“But the hand and arm moved,” I exclaimed. “Oh, yes, they moved, indeed +they moved,” said the old man smiling, as he patted me on the shoulder. +Then he arose to go, and bowing politely, closed his remarks with the +words, “Beware of mirrors which can lie so vividly. Your obedient +servant, sir.” + +You can imagine how I felt when I saw that he looked upon me as a +foolish fantast. I hurried home full of anger and disgust, and promised +myself that I would not think of the mysterious house. But I placed +the mirror on my dressing-table that I might bind my cravat before it, +and thus it happened one day, when I was about to utilize it for this +important business, that its glass seemed dull, and that I took it up +and breathed on it to rub it bright again. My heart seemed to stand +still, every fiber in me trembled in delightful awe. Yes, that is all +the name I can find for the feeling that came over me, when, as my +breath clouded the little mirror, I saw the beautiful face of my dreams +arise and smile at me through blue mists. You laugh at me? You look +upon me as an incorrigible dreamer? Think what you will about it--the +fair face looked at me from out of the mirror! But as soon as the +clouding vanished, and face vanished in the brightened glass. + +I will not weary you with a detailed recital of my sensations the next +few days. I will only say that I repeated again the experiments with +the mirror, sometimes with success, sometimes without. When I had not +been able to call up the vision, I would run to the deserted house +and stare up at the windows; but I saw no human being anywhere about +the building. I lived only in thoughts of my vision; everything else +seemed indifferent to me. I neglected my friends and my studies. The +tortures in my soul passed over into, or rather mingled with, physical +sensations which frightened me, and which at last made me fear for my +reason. One day, after an unusually severe attack, I put my little +mirror in my pocket and hurried to the home of Dr. K----, who was noted +for his treatment of those diseases of the mind out of which physical +diseases so often grow. I told him my story; I did not conceal the +slightest incident from him, and I implored him to save me from the +terrible fate which seemed to threaten me. He listened to me quietly, +but I read astonishment in his glance. Then he said: “The danger is +not as near as you believe, and I think that I may say that it can be +easily prevented. You are undergoing an unusual psychical disturbance, +beyond a doubt. But the fact that you understand that some evil +principle seems to be trying to influence you, gives you a weapon by +which you can combat it. Leave your little mirror here with me, and +force yourself to take up with some work which will afford scope for +all your mental energy. Do not go to the avenue; work all day, from +early to late, then take a long walk, and spend your evenings in the +company of your friends. Eat heartily, and drink heavy, nourishing +wines. You see I am endeavoring to combat your fixed idea of the face +in the window of the deserted house and in the mirror, by diverting +your mind to other things, and by strengthening your body. You yourself +must help me in this.” + +I was very reluctant to part with my mirror. The physician, who had +already taken it, seemed to notice my hesitation. He breathed upon the +glass and holding it up to me, he asked: “Do you see anything?” + +“Nothing at all,” I answered, for so it was. + +“Now breathe on the glass yourself,” said the physician, laying the +mirror in my hands. + +I did as he requested. There was the vision even more clearly than ever +before. + +“There she is!” I cried aloud. + +The physician looked into the glass, and then said: “I cannot see +anything. But I will confess to you that when I looked into this glass, +a queer shiver overcame me, passing away almost at once. Now do it once +more.” + +I breathed upon the glass again and the physician laid his hand upon +the back of my neck. The face appeared again, and the physician, +looking into the mirror over my shoulder, turned pale. Then he took +the little glass from my hands, looked at it attentively, and locked it +into his desk, returning to me after a few moments’ silent thought. + +“Follow my instructions strictly,” he said. “I must confess to you that +I do not yet understand those moments of your vision. But I hope to be +able to tell you more about it very soon.” + +Difficult as it was to me, I forced myself to live absolutely according +to the doctor’s orders. I soon felt the benefit of the steady work +and the nourishing diet, and yet I was not free from those terrible +attacks, which would come either at noon, or, more intensely still, +at midnight. Even in the midst of a merry company, in the enjoyment +of wine and song, glowing daggers seemed to pierce my heart, and all +the strength of my intellect was powerless to resist their might +over me. I was obliged to retire, and could not return to my friends +until I had recovered from my condition of lethargy. It was in one of +these attacks, an unusually strong one, that such an irresistible, +mad longing for the picture of my dreams came over me, that I hurried +out into the street and ran toward the mysterious house. While still +at a distance from it, I seemed to see lights shining out through +the fast-closed blinds, but when I came nearer I saw that all was +dark. Crazy with my desire I rushed to the door; it fell back before +the pressure of my hand. I stood in the dimly lighted vestibule, +enveloped in a heavy, close atmosphere. My heart beat in strange fear +and impatience. Then suddenly a long, sharp tone, as from a woman’s +throat, shrilled through the house. I know not how it happened that I +found myself suddenly in a great hall brilliantly lighted and furnished +in old-fashioned magnificence of golden chairs and strange Japanese +ornaments. Strongly perfumed incense arose in blue clouds about me. +“Welcome--welcome, sweet bridegroom! the hour has come, our bridal +hour!” I heard these words in a woman’s voice, and as little as I +can tell, how I came into the room, just so little do I know how it +happened that suddenly a tall, youthful figure, richly dressed, seemed +to arise from the blue mists. With the repeated shrill cry: “Welcome, +sweet bridegroom!” she came toward me with outstretched arms--and a +yellow face, distorted with age and madness, stared into mine! I fell +back in terror, but the fiery, piercing glance of her eyes, like the +eyes of a snake, seemed to hold me spellbound. I did not seem able to +turn my eyes from this terrible old woman, I could not move another +step. She came still nearer, and it seemed to me suddenly as if her +hideous face were only a thin mask, beneath which I saw the features +of the beautiful maiden of my vision. Already I felt the touch of her +hands, when suddenly she fell at my feet with a loud scream, and a +voice behind me cried: + +“Oho, is the devil playing his tricks with your grace again? To bed, to +bed, your grace. Else there will be blows, mighty blows!” + +I turned quickly and saw the old steward in his night clothes, swinging +a whip above his head. He was about to strike the screaming figure at +my feet when I caught at his arm. But he shook me from him, exclaiming: +“The devil, sir! That old Satan would have murdered you if I had not +come to your aid. Get away from here at once!” + +I rushed from the hall, and sought in vain in the darkness for the +door of the house. Behind me I heard the hissing blows of the whip and +the old woman’s screams. I drew breath to call aloud for help, when +suddenly the ground gave way under my feet; I fell down a short flight +of stairs, bringing up with such force against a door at the bottom +that it sprang open, and I measured my length on the floor of a small +room. From the hastily vacated bed, and from the familiar brown coat +hanging over a chair, I saw that I was in the bedchamber of the old +steward. There was a trampling on the stair, and the old man himself +entered hastily, throwing himself at my feet. “By all the saints, sir,” +he entreated with folded hands, “whoever you may be, and however her +grace, that old Satan of a witch has managed to entice you to this +house, do not speak to anyone of what has happened here. It will cost +me my position. Her crazy excellency has been punished, and is bound +fast in her bed. Sleep well, good sir, sleep softly and sweetly. It is +a warm and beautiful July night. There is no moon, but the stars shine +brightly. A quiet good night to you.” While talking, the old man had +taken up a lamp, had led me out of the basement, pushed me out of the +house door, and locked it behind me. I hurried home quite bewildered, +and you can imagine that I was too much confused by the gruesome secret +to be able to form any explanation of it in my own mind for the first +few days. Only this much was certain, that I was now free from the evil +spell that had held me captive so long. All my longing for the magic +vision in the mirror had disappeared, and the memory of the scene in +the deserted house was like the recollection of an unexpected visit +to a madhouse. It was evident beyond a doubt that the steward was the +tyrannical guardian of a crazy woman of noble birth, whose condition +was to be hidden from the world. But the mirror? and all the other +magic? Listen, and I will tell you more about it. + +Some few days later I came upon Count P---- at an evening +entertainment. He drew me to one side and said, with a smile, “Do +you know that the secrets of our deserted house are beginning to be +revealed?” I listened with interest; but before the Count could say +more the doors of the dining-room were thrown open, and the company +proceeded to the table. Quite lost in thought at the words I had +just heard, I had given a young lady my arm, and had taken my place +mechanically in the ceremonious procession. I led my companion to the +seats arranged for us, and then turned to look at her for the first +time. The vision of my mirror stood before me, feature for feature, +there was no deception possible! I trembled to my innermost heart, as +you can imagine; but I discovered that there was not the slightest +echo even, in my heart, of the mad desire which had ruled me so +entirely when my breath drew out the magic picture from the glass. My +astonishment, or rather my terror, must have been apparent in my eyes. +The girl looked at me in such surprise that I endeavored to control +myself sufficiently to remark that I must have met her somewhere +before. Her short answer, to the effect that this could hardly be +possible, as she had come to the city only yesterday for the first time +in her life, bewildered me still more and threw me into an awkward +silence. The sweet glance from her gentle eyes brought back my courage, +and I began a tentative exploring of this new companion’s mind. I found +that I had before me a sweet and delicate being, suffering from some +psychic trouble. At a particularly merry turn of the conversation, +when I would throw in a daring word like a dash of pepper, she would +smile, but her smile was pained, as if a wound had been touched. “You +are not very merry to-night, Countess. Was it the visit this morning?” +An officer sitting near us had spoken these words to my companion, +but before he could finish his remarks his neighbor had grasped him +by the arm and whispered something in his ear, while a lady at the +other side of the table, with glowing cheeks and angry eyes, began to +talk loudly of the opera she had heard last evening. Tears came to the +eyes of the girl sitting beside me. “Am I not foolish?” She turned to +me. A few moments before she had complained of headache. “Merely the +usual evidences of a nervous headache,” I answered in an easy tone, +“and there is nothing better for it than the merry spirit which +bubbles in the foam of this poet’s nectar.” With these words I filled +her champagne glass, and she sipped at it as she threw me a look of +gratitude. Her mood brightened, and all would have been well had I not +touched a glass before me with unexpected strength, arousing from it a +shrill, high tone. My companion grew deadly pale, and I myself felt a +sudden shiver, for the sound had exactly the tone of the mad woman’s +voice in the deserted house. + +While we were drinking coffee I made an opportunity to get to the side +of Count P----. He understood the reason for my movement. “Do you know +that your neighbor is Countess Edwina S----? And do you know also that +it is her mother’s sister who lives in the deserted house, incurably +mad for many years? This morning both mother and daughter went to see +the unfortunate woman. The old steward, the only person who is able to +control the Countess in her outbreaks, is seriously ill, and they say +that the sister has finally revealed the secret to Dr. K----.” + +Dr. K---- was the physician to whom I had turned in my own anxiety, and +you can well imagine that I hurried to him as soon as I was free, and +told him all that had happened to me in the last days. I asked him to +tell me as much as he could about the mad woman, for my own peace of +mind; and this is what I learned from him under promise of secrecy. + +“Angelica, Countess Z----,” thus the doctor began, “had already passed +her thirtieth year, but was still in full possession of great beauty, +when Count S----, although much younger than she, became so fascinated +by her charm that he wooed her with ardent devotion and followed her +to her father’s home to try his luck there. But scarcely had the Count +entered the house, scarcely had he caught sight of Angelica’s younger +sister, Gabrielle, when he awoke as from a dream. The elder sister +appeared faded and colorless beside Gabrielle, whose beauty and charm +so enthralled the Count that he begged her hand of her father. Count +Z---- gave his consent easily, as there was no doubt of Gabrielle’s +feelings toward her suitor. Angelica did not show the slightest anger +at her lover’s faithlessness. “He believes that he has forsaken me, +the foolish boy! He does not perceive that he was but my toy, a toy +of which I had tired.” Thus she spoke in proud scorn, and not a look +or an action on her part belied her words. But after the ceremonious +betrothal of Gabrielle to Count S----, Angelica was seldom seen by +the members of her family. She did not appear at the dinner table, +and it was said that she spent most of her time walking alone in the +neighboring wood. + +“A strange occurrence disturbed the monotonous quiet of life in the +castle. The hunters of Count Z----, assisted by peasants from the +village, had captured a band of gypsies who were accused of several +robberies and murders which had happened recently in the neighborhood. +The men were brought to the castle court-yard, fettered together on +a long chain, while the women and children were packed on a cart. +Noticeable among the last was a tall, haggard old woman of terrifying +aspect, wrapped from head to foot in a red shawl. She stood upright in +the cart, and in an imperious tone demanded that she should be allowed +to descend. The guards were so awed by her manner and appearance that +they obeyed her at once. + +“Count Z---- came down to the courtyard and commanded that the gang +should be placed in the prisons under the castle. Suddenly Countess +Angelica rushed out of the door, her hair all loose, fear and anxiety +in her pale face. Throwing herself on her knees, she cried in a +piercing voice, ‘Let these people go! Let these people go! They are +innocent! Father, let these people go! If you shed one drop of their +blood I will pierce my heart with this knife!’ The Countess swung a +shining knife in the air and then sank swooning to the ground. ‘Yes, my +beautiful darling--my golden child--I knew you would not let them hurt +us,’ shrilled the old woman in red. She cowered beside the Countess +and pressed disgusting kisses to her face and breast, murmuring crazy +words. She took from out the recesses of her shawl a little vial in +which a tiny goldfish seemed to swim in some silver-clear liquid. +She held the vial to the Countess’s heart. The latter regained +consciousness immediately. When her eyes fell on the gypsy woman, she +sprang up, clasped the old creature ardently in her arms, and hurried +with her into the castle. + +“Count Z----, Gabrielle, and her lover, who had come out during this +scene, watched it in astonished awe. The gypsies appeared quite +indifferent. They were loosed from their chains and taken separately to +the prisons. Next morning Count Z---- called the villagers together. +The gypsies were led before them and the Count announced that he had +found them to be innocent of the crimes of which they were accused, +and that he would grant them free passage through his domains. To the +astonishment of all present, their fetters were struck off and they +were set at liberty. The red-shawled woman was not among them. It +was whispered that the gypsy captain, recognizable from the golden +chain about his neck and the red feather in his high Spanish hat, had +paid a secret visit to the Count’s room the night before. But it was +discovered a short time after the release of the gypsies, that they +were indeed guiltless of the robberies and murders that had disturbed +the district. + +“The date set for Gabrielle’s wedding approached. One day, to her great +astonishment, she saw several large wagons in the courtyard being +packed high with furniture, clothing, linen, with everything necessary +for a complete household outfit. The wagons were driven away, and the +following day Count Z---- explained that, for many reasons, he had +thought it best to grant Angelica’s odd request that she be allowed to +set up her own establishment in his house in X----. He had given the +house to her, and had promised her that no member of the family, not +even he himself, should enter it without her express permission. He +added also, that, at her urgent request, he had permitted his own valet +to accompany her, to take charge of her household. + +“When the wedding festivities were over, Count S---- and his bride +departed for their home, where they spent a year in cloudless +happiness. Then the Count’s health failed mysteriously. It was as +if some secret sorrow gnawed at his vitals, robbing him of joy and +strength. All efforts of his young wife to discover the source of +his trouble were fruitless. At last, when the constantly recurring +fainting spells threatened to endanger his very life, he yielded to the +entreaties of his physicians and left his home, ostensibly for Pisa. +His young wife was prevented from accompanying him by the delicate +condition of her own health. + +“And now,” said the doctor, “the information given me by Countess S---- +became, from this point on, so rhapsodical that a keen observer only +could guess at the true coherence of the story. Her baby, a daughter, +born during her husband’s absence, was spirited away from the house, +and all search for it was fruitless. Her grief at this loss deepened to +despair, when she received a message from her father stating that her +husband, whom all believed to be in Pisa, had been found dying of heart +trouble in Angelica’s home in X----, and that Angelica herself had +become a dangerous maniac. The old Count added that all this horror had +so shaken his own nerves that he feared he would not long survive it. + +“As soon as Gabrielle was able to leave her bed, she hurried to her +father’s castle. One night, prevented from sleeping by visions of the +loved ones she had lost, she seemed to hear a faint crying, like that +of an infant, before the door of her chamber. Lighting her candle she +opened the door. Great Heaven! there cowered the old gypsy woman, +wrapped in her red shawl, staring up at her with eyes that seemed +already glazing in death. In her arms she held a little child, whose +crying had aroused the Countess. Gabrielle’s heart beat high with +joy--it was her child--her lost daughter! She snatched the infant from +the gypsy’s arms, just as the woman fell at her feet lifeless. The +Countess’ screams awoke the house, but the gypsy was quite dead and no +effort to revive her met with success. + +“The old Count hurried to X---- to endeavor to discover something that +would throw light upon the mysterious disappearance and reappearance +of the child. Angelica’s madness had frightened away all her female +servants; the valet alone remained with her. She appeared at first to +have become quite calm and sensible. But when the Count told her the +story of Gabrielle’s child she clapped her hands and laughed aloud, +crying: ‘Did the little darling arrive? You buried her, you say? How +the feathers of the gold pheasant shine in the sun! Have you seen the +green lion with the fiery blue eyes?’ Horrified the Count perceived +that Angelica’s mind was gone beyond a doubt, and he resolved to take +her back with him to his estates, in spite of the warnings of his old +valet. At the mere suggestion of removing her from the house Angelica’s +ravings increased to such an extent as to endanger her own life and +that of the others. + +“When a lucid interval came again Angelica entreated her father, with +many tears, to let her live and die in the house she had chosen. +Touched by her terrible trouble, he granted her request, although he +believed the confession which slipped from her lips during this scene +to be a fantasy of her madness. She told him that Count S---- had +returned to her arms, and that the child which the gipsy had taken +to her father’s house was the fruit of their love. The rumor went +abroad in the city that Count Z---- had taken the unfortunate woman to +his home; but the truth was that she remained hidden in the deserted +house under the care of the valet. Count Z---- died a short time ago, +and Countess Gabrielle came here with her daughter Edwina to arrange +some family affairs. It was not possible for her to avoid seeing her +unfortunate sister. Strange things must have happened during this +visit, but the Countess has not confided anything to me, saying merely +that she had found it necessary to take the mad woman away from the +old valet. It had been discovered that he had controlled her outbreaks +by means of force and physical cruelty; and that also, allured by +Angelica’s assertions that she could make gold, he had allowed himself +to assist her in her weird operations. + +“I would be quite unnecessary,” thus the physician ended his story, +“to say anything more to you about the deeper inward relationship of +all these strange things. It is clear to my mind that it was you who +brought about the catastrophe, a catastrophe which will mean recovery +or speedy death for the sick woman. And now I will confess to you that +I was not a little alarmed, horrified, even, to discover that--when I +had set myself in magnetic communication with you by placing my hand on +your neck--I could see the picture in the mirror with my own eyes. We +both know now that the reflection in the glass was the face of Countess +Edwina.” + +I repeat Dr. K----’s words in saying that, to my mind also, there is +no further comment that can be made on all these facts. I consider it +equally unnecessary to discuss at any further length with you now the +mysterious relationship between Angelica, Edwina, the old valet, and +myself--a relationship which seemed the work of a malicious demon who +was playing his tricks with us. I will add only that I left the city +soon after all these events, driven from the place by an oppression I +could not shake off. The uncanny sensation left me suddenly a month or +so later, giving way to a feeling of intense relief that flowed through +all my veins with the warmth of an electric current. I am convinced +that this change within me came about in the moment when the mad woman +died. + + + + +THE ADELANTADO OF THE SEVEN CITIES + +[Attribution: From “Wolfert’s Roost.”] + +A LEGEND OF ST. BRANDAN, THE PHANTOM ISLE + +By WASHINGTON IRVING + + +In the early part of the fifteenth century, when Prince Henry of +Portugal was pushing the career of discovery along the western coast +of Africa, and the world was resounding with reports of golden regions +on the mainland, and new-found islands in the ocean, there arrived at +Lisbon an old bewildered pilot of the seas, who had been driven by +tempests, he knew not whither, and raved about an island far in the +deep, upon which he had landed, and which he had found peopled with +Christians and adorned with noble cities. + +The inhabitants, he said, having never before been visited by a ship, +gathered round, and regarded him with surprise. They told him they were +descendants of a band of Christians, who fled from Spain when that +country was conquered by the Moslems. They were curious about the state +of their fatherland, and grieved to hear that the Moslems still held +possession of the kingdom of Granada. They would have taken the old +navigator to church, to convince him of their orthodoxy; but, either +through lack of devotion, or lack of faith in their words, he declined +their invitation, and preferred to return on board of his ship. He was +properly punished. A furious storm arose, drove him from his anchorage, +hurried him out to sea, and he saw no more of the unknown island. + +This strange story caused great marvel in Lisbon and elsewhere. Those +versed in history remembered to have read, in an ancient chronicle, +that, at the time of the conquest of Spain, in the eighth century, when +the blessed cross was cast down and the crescent erected in its place, +and when Christian churches were turned into Moslem mosques, seven +bishops, at the head of seven bands of pious exiles, had fled from the +peninsula, and embarked in quest of some ocean island, or distant land, +where they might found seven Christian cities, and enjoy their faith +unmolested. + +The fate of these saints errant had hitherto remained a mystery, +and their story had faded from memory; the report of the old +tempest-tossed pilot, however, revived this long-forgotten theme; and +it was determined by the pious and enthusiastic that the island thus +accidentally discovered was the identical place of refuge whither the +wandering bishops had been guided by a protecting Providence, and where +they had folded their flocks. + +This most excitable of worlds has always some darling object of +chimerical enterprise; the “Island of the Seven Cities” now awakened as +much interest and longing among zealous Christians as has the renowned +city of Timbuctoo among adventurous travelers, or the Northeast passage +among hardy navigators; and it was a frequent prayer of the devout, +that these scattered and lost portions of the Christian family might be +discovered and reunited to the great body of Christendom. + +No one, however, entered into the matter with half the zeal of Don +Fernando de Ulmo, a young cavalier of high standing in the Portuguese +court, and of most sanguine and romantic temperament. He had recently +come to his estate, and had run the round of all kinds of pleasures and +excitements when this new theme of popular talk and wonder presented +itself. The Island of the Seven Cities became now the constant subject +of his thoughts by day and his dreams by night; it even rivaled his +passion for a beautiful girl, one of the greatest belles of Lisbon, to +whom he was betrothed. At length his imagination became so inflamed on +the subject, that he determined to fit out an expedition, at his own +expense, and set sail in quest of this sainted island. It could not +be a cruise of any great extent; for, according to the calculations +of the tempest-tossed pilot, it must be somewhere in the latitude +of the Canaries; which at that time, when the new world was as yet +undiscovered, formed the frontier of ocean enterprise. Don Fernando +applied to the crown for countenance and protection. As he was a +favorite at court, the usual patronage was readily extended to him; +that is to say, he received a commission from the king, Don Ioam II., +constituting him Adelantado, or military governor, of any country he +might discover, with the single proviso, that he should bear all the +expenses of the discovery, and pay a tenth of the profits to the crown. + +Don Fernando now set to work in the true spirit of a projector. He sold +acre after acre of solid land, and invested the proceeds in ships, +guns, ammunition, and sea-stores. Even his old family mansion in Lisbon +was mortgaged without scruple, for he looked forward to a palace in one +of the Seven Cities, of which he was to be Adelantado. This was the +age of nautical romance, when the thoughts of all speculative dreamers +were turned to the ocean. The scheme of Don Fernando, therefore, drew +adventurers of every kind. + +One person alone regarded the whole project with sovereign contempt +and growing hostility. This was Don Ramiro Alvarez, the father of the +beautiful Serafina, to whom Don Fernando was betrothed. He was one +of those perverse, matter-of-fact old men, who are prone to oppose +everything speculative and romantic. He had no faith in the Island of +the Seven Cities; regarded the projected cruise as a crack-brained +freak; looked with angry eye and internal heart-burning on the conduct +of his intended son-in-law, chaffering away solid lands for lands in +the moon; and scoffingly dubbed him Adelantado of Cloud Land. In fact, +he had never really relished the intended match, to which his consent +had been slowly extorted by the tears and entreaties of his daughter. +It is true he could have no reasonable objections to the youth, for Don +Fernando was the very flower of Portuguese chivalry. No one could excel +him at the tilting match, or the riding at the ring; none was more bold +and dexterous in the bull fight; none composed more gallant madrigals +in praise of his lady’s charms, or sang them with sweeter tones to the +accompaniment of her guitar; nor could any one handle the castanets +and dance the bolero with more captivating grace. All these admirable +qualities and endowments, however, though they had been sufficient to +win the heart of Serafina, were nothing in the eyes of her unreasonable +father. + +The engagement to Serafina had threatened at first to throw an obstacle +in the way of the expedition of Don Fernando, and for a time perplexed +him in the extreme. He was passionately attached to the young lady; +but he was also passionately bent on this romantic enterprise. How +should he reconcile the two passionate inclinations? A simple and +obvious arrangement at length presented itself,--marry Serafina, enjoy +a portion of the honeymoon at once, and defer the rest until his return +from the discovery of the Seven Cities! + +He hastened to make known this most excellent arrangement to Don +Ramiro, when the long smothered wrath of the old cavalier burst forth. +He reproached him with being the dupe of wandering vagabonds and wild +schemers, and with squandering all his real possession, in pursuit of +empty bubbles. Don Fernando was too sanguine a projector, and too young +a man, to listen tamely to such language. A high quarrel ensued; Don +Ramiro pronounced him a madman, and forbade all farther intercourse +with his daughter until he should give proof of returning sanity by +abandoning this madcap enterprise; while Don Fernando flung out of +the house, more bent than ever on the expedition, from the idea of +triumphing over the incredulity of the graybeard, when he should return +successful. Don Ramiro’s heart misgave him. Who knows, thought he, but +this crack-brained visionary may persuade my daughter to elope with +him, and share his throne in this unknown paradise of fools? If I could +only keep her safe until his ships are fairly out at sea! + +He repaired to her apartment, represented to her the sanguine, unsteady +character of her lover and the chimerical value of his schemes, and +urged the propriety of suspending all intercourse with him until he +should recover from his present hallucination. She bowed her head +as if in filial acquiescence, whereupon he folded her to his bosom +with parental fondness and kissed away a tear that was stealing over +her cheek, but as he left the chamber quietly turned the key in the +lock; for though he was a fond father and had a high opinion of the +submissive temper of his child, he had a still higher opinion of the +conservative virtues of lock and key, and determined to trust to them +until the caravels should sail. Whether the damsel had been in anywise +shaken in her faith as to the schemes of her father’s eloquence, +tradition does not say; but certain it is, that, the moment she heard +the key turn in the lock, she became a firm believer in the Island of +the Seven Cities. + +The door was locked; but her will was unconfined. A window of the +chamber opened into one of those stone balconies, secured by iron bars, +which project like huge cages from Portuguese and Spanish houses. +Within this balcony the beautiful Serafina had her birds and flowers, +and here she was accustomed to sit on moonlight nights as in a bower, +and touch her guitar and sing like a wakeful nightingale. From this +balcony an intercourse was now maintained between the lovers, against +which the lock and key of Don Ramiro were of no avail. All day would +Fernando be occupied hurrying the equipments of his ships, but evening +found him in sweet discourse beneath his lady’s window. + +At length the preparations were completed. Two gallant caravels lay at +anchor in the Tagus ready to sail at sunrise. Late at night by the pale +light of a waning moon the lover had his last interview. The beautiful +Serafina was sad at heart and full of dark forebodings; her lover full +of hope and confidence. “A few short months,” said he, “and I shall +return in triumph. Thy father will then blush at his incredulity, and +hasten to welcome to his house the Adelantado of the Seven Cities.” + +The gentle lady shook her head. It was not on this point she felt +distrust. She was a thorough believer in the Island of the Seven +Cities, and so sure of the success of the enterprise that she might +have been tempted to join it had not the balcony been high and the +grating strong. Other considerations induced that dubious shaking +of the head. She had heard of the inconstancy of the seas, and the +inconstancy of those who roam them. Might not Fernando meet with other +loves in foreign ports? Might not some peerless beauty in one or other +of those Seven Cities efface the image of Serafina from his mind? + +She ventured to express her doubt, but he spurned at the very idea. +“What! be false to Serafina! He bow at the shrine of another beauty? +Never! Never!” Repeatedly did he bend his knee, and smite his breast, +and call upon the silver moon to witness his sincerity and truth. + +He retorted the doubt, “Might not Serafina herself forget her plighted +faith? Might not some wealthier rival present himself while he was +tossing on the sea; and, backed by her father’s wishes, win the +treasure of her hand!” + +The beautiful Serafina raised her white arms between the iron bars +of the balcony, and, like her lover, invoked the moon to testify her +vows. Alas! how little did Fernando know her heart. The more her father +should oppose, the more would she be fixed in faith. Though years +should intervene, Fernando on his return would find her true. Even +should the salt sea swallow him up, never would she be the wife of +another! Never, _never_, NEVER! She drew from her finger a ring gemmed +with a ruby heart, and dropped it from the balcony, a parting pledge +of constancy. + +With the morning dawn the caravels dropped down the Tagus, and put +to sea. They steered for the Canaries, in those days the regions +of nautical discovery and romance, and the outposts of the known +world, for as yet Columbus had not steered his daring barks across +the ocean. Scarce had they reached those latitudes when they were +separated by a violent tempest. For many days was the caravel of Don +Fernando driven about at the mercy of the elements; all seamanship was +baffled, destruction seemed inevitable and the crew were in despair. +All at once the storm subsided; the ocean sank into a calm; the clouds +which had veiled the face of heaven were suddenly withdrawn, and the +tempest-tossed mariners beheld a fair and mountainous island, emerging +as if by enchantment from the murky gloom. They rubbed their eyes and +gazed for a time almost incredulously, yet there lay the island spread +out in lovely landscapes, with the late stormy sea laving its shores +with peaceful billows. + +The pilot of the caravel consulted his maps and charts; no island like +the one before him was laid down as existing in those parts; it is true +he had lost his reckoning in the late storm, but, according to his +calculations, he could not be far from the Canaries; and this was not +one of that group of islands. The caravel now lay perfectly becalmed +off the mouth of a river, on the banks of which, about a league from +the sea, was descried a noble city, with lofty walls and towers, and a +protecting castle. + +After a time, a stately barge with sixteen oars was seen emerging from +the river, and approaching the caravel. It was quaintly carved and +gilt; the oarsmen were clad in antique garb, their oars painted of a +bright crimson, and they came slowly and solemnly, keeping time as they +rowed to the cadence of an old Spanish ditty. Under a silken canopy in +the stern, sat a cavalier richly clad, and over his head was a banner +bearing the sacred emblem of the cross. + +When the barge reached the caravel, the cavalier stepped on board. He +was tall and gaunt; with a long Spanish visage, moustaches that curled +up to his eyes, and a forked beard. He wore gauntlets reaching to his +elbows, a Toledo blade strutting out behind, with a basket hilt, in +which he carried his handkerchief. His air was lofty and precise, and +bespoke indisputably the hidalgo. Thrusting out a long spindle leg, he +took off a huge sombrero, and swaying it until the feather swept the +ground, accosted Don Fernando in the old Castilian language, and with +the old Castilian courtesy, welcoming him to the Island of the Seven +Cities. + +Don Fernando was overwhelmed with astonishment. Could this be true? Had +he really been tempest-driven to the very land of which he was in quest? + +It was even so. That very day the inhabitants were holding high +festival in commemoration of the escape of their ancestors from the +Moors. The arrival of the caravel at such a juncture was considered +a good omen, the accomplishment of an ancient prophecy through which +the island was to be restored to the great community of Christendom. +The cavalier before him was grand chamberlain, sent by the alcayde to +invite him to the festivities of the capital. + +Don Fernando could scarce believe that this was not all a dream. He +had known his name and the object of his voyage. The grand chamberlain +declared that all was in perfect accordance with the ancient prophecy, +and that the moment his credentials were presented, he would be +acknowledged as the Adelantado of the Seven Cities. In the meantime +the day was waning; the barge was ready to convey him to the land, and +would as assuredly bring him back. + +Don Fernando’s pilot, a veteran of the seas, drew him aside and +expostulated against his venturing, on the mere word of a stranger, to +land in a strange barge on an unknown shore. “Who knows, Señor, what +land this is, or what people inhabit it?” + +Don Fernando was not to be dissuaded. Had he not believed in this +island when all the world doubted? Had he not sought it in defiance +of storm and tempest, and was he now to shrink from its shores when +they lay before him in calm weather? In a word, was not faith the very +corner-stone of his enterprise? + +Having arrayed himself, therefore, in gala dress befitting the +occasion, he took his seat in the barge. The grand chamberlain seated +himself opposite. The rowers plied their oars, and renewed the +mournful old ditty, and the gorgeous but unwieldly barge moved slowly +through the water. + +The night closed in before they entered the river, and swept along past +rock and promontory, each guarded by its tower. At every post they were +challenged by the sentinel. + +“Who goes there?” + +“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.” + +“Welcome, Señor Adelantado. Pass on.” + +Entering the harbor they rowed close by an armed galley of ancient +form. Soldiers with crossbows patroled the deck. + +“Who goes there?” + +“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.” + +“Welcome, Señor Adelantado. Pass on.” + +They landed at a broad flight of stone steps, leading up between two +massive towers, and knocked at the water-gate. A sentinel, in ancient +steel casque, looked from the barbican. + +“Who is there?” + +“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.” + +“Welcome, Señor Adelantado.” + +The gate swung open, grating upon rusty hinges. They entered between +two rows of warriors in Gothic armor, with crossbows, maces, +battle-axes, and faces old-fashioned as their armor. There were +processions through the streets, in commemoration of the landing of the +seven bishops and their followers, and bonfires at which effigies of +Moors expiated their invasion of Christendom by a kind of auto-da-fé. +The groups round the fires, uncouth in their attire, looked like the +fantastic figures that roam the streets in carnival time. Even the +dames who gazed down from Gothic balconies hung with antique tapestry, +resembled effigies dressed up in Christmas mummeries. Everything, in +short, bore the stamp of former ages, as if the world had suddenly +rolled back for several centuries. Nor was this to be wondered at. +Had not the Island of the Seven Cities been cut off from the rest of +the world for several hundred years; and were not these the modes and +customs of Gothic Spain before it was conquered by the Moors? + +Arrived at the palace of the alcayde, the grand chamberlain knocked at +the portal. The porter looked through a wicket, and demanded who was +there. + +“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.” + +The portal was thrown wide open. The grand chamberlain led the way up +a vast, heavily molded, marble staircase, and into a hall of ceremony, +where was the alcayde with several of the principal dignitaries of the +city, who had a marvelous resemblance, in form and feature, to the +quaint figures in old illuminated manuscripts. + +The grand chamberlain stepped forward and announced the name and title +of the stranger guest, and the extraordinary nature of his mission. The +announcement appeared to create no extraordinary emotion or surprise, +but to be received as the anticipated fulfilment of a prophecy. + +The reception of Don Fernando, however, was profoundly gracious, though +in the same style of stately courtesy which everywhere prevailed. He +would have produced his credentials, but this was courteously declined. +The evening was devoted to high festivity; the following day, when he +should enter the port with his caravel, would be devoted to business, +when the credentials would be received in due form, and he inducted +into office as Adelantado of the Seven Cities. + +Don Fernando was now conducted through one of those interminable suites +of apartments, the pride of Spanish palaces, all furnished in a style +of obsolete magnificence. In a vast saloon, blazing with tapers, was +assembled all the aristocracy and fashion of the city,--stately dames +and cavaliers, the very counterpart of the figures in the tapestry +which decorated the walls. Fernando gazed in silent marvel. It was a +reflex of the proud aristocracy of Spain in the time of Roderick the +Goth. + +The festivities of the evening were all in the style of solemn and +antiquated ceremonial. There was a dance, but it was as if the old +tapestry were put in motion, and all the figures moving in stately +measure about the floor. There was one exception, and one that +told powerfully upon the susceptible Adalantado. The alcayde’s +daughter--such a ripe, melting beauty! Her dress, it is true, like +the dresses of her neighbors, might have been worn before the flood, +but she had the black Andalusian eye, a glance of which, through its +long dark lashes, is irresistible. Her voice, too, her manner, her +undulating movements, all smacked of Andalusia, and showed how female +charms may be transmitted from age to age, and clime to clime, without +ever going out of fashion. + +Don Fernando sat beside her at the banquet! such an old-world feast! +such obsolete dainties! At the head of the table the peacock, that +bird of state and ceremony, was served up in full plumage on a golden +dish. As Don Fernando cast his eyes down the glittering board, what a +vista presented itself of odd heads and head-dresses; of formal bearded +dignitaries, and stately dames, with castellated locks and towering +plumes! Is it to be wondered at that he should turn with delight from +these antiquated figures to the alcayde’s daughter, all smiles and +dimples, and melting looks and melting accents? Besides, he was in a +particularly excitable mood from the novelty of the scene before him, +from this realization of all his hopes and fancies, and from frequent +draughts of the wine-cup, presented to him at every moment by officious +pages during the banquet. + +In a word--there is no concealing the matter--before the evening was +over, Don Fernando was making love outright to the alcayde’s daughter. +They had wandered together to a moon-lit balcony of the palace, and he +was charming her ear with one of those love-ditties with which, in a +like balcony, he had serenaded the beautiful Serafina. + +The damsel hung her head coyly. “Ah! Señor, these are flattering words; +but you cavaliers, who roam the seas, are unsteady as its waves. +To-morrow you will be throned in state, Adelantado of the Seven +Cities; and will think no more of the alcayde’s daughter.” + +Don Fernando in the intoxication of the moment called the moon to +witness his sincerity. As he raised his hand in adjuration, the chaste +moon cast a ray upon the ring that sparkled on his finger. It caught +the damsel’s eye. “Signor Adelantado,” said she archly, “I have no +great faith in the moon, but give me that ring upon your finger in +pledge of the truth of what you profess.” + +The gallant Adelantado was taken by surprise; there was no parrying +this sudden appeal; before he had time to reflect, the ring of the +beautiful Serafina glittered on the finger of the alcayde’s daughter. + +At this eventful moment the chamberlain approached with lofty demeanor, +and announced that the barge was waiting to bear him back to the +caravel. I forbear to relate the ceremonious partings with the alcayde +and his dignitaries, and the tender farewell of the alcayde’s daughter. +He took his seat in the barge opposite the grand chamberlain. The +rowers plied their crimson oars in the same slow and stately manner, +to the cadence of the same mournful old ditty. His brain was in a +whirl with all that he had seen, and his heart now and then gave him +a twinge as he thought of his temporary infidelity to the beautiful +Serafina. The barge sallied out into the sea, but no caravel was to be +seen; doubtless she had been carried to a distance by the current of +the river. The oarsmen rowed on; their monotonous chant had a lulling +effect. A drowsy influence crept over Don Fernando. Objects swam before +his eyes. The oarsmen assumed odd shapes as in a dream. The grand +chamberlain grew larger and larger, and taller and taller. He took off +his huge sombrero, and held it over the head of Don Fernando, like an +extinguisher over a candle. The latter cowered beneath it; he felt +himself sinking in the socket. + +“Good night! Señor Adelantado of the Seven Cities!” said the grand +chamberlain. + +The sombrero slowly descended--Don Fernando was extinguished! + +How long he remained extinct no mortal man can tell. When he returned +to consciousness, he found himself in a strange cabin, surrounded by +strangers. He rubbed his eyes, and looked round him wildly. Where +was he?--On board a Portuguese ship, bound to Lisbon. How came he +there?--He had been taken senseless from a wreck drifting about the +ocean. + +Don Fernando was more and more confounded and perplexed. He recalled, +one by one, everything that had happened to him in the Island of the +Seven Cities, until he had been extinguished by the sombrero of the +grand chamberlain. But what had happened to him since? What had become +of his caravel? Was it the wreck of her on which he had been found +floating? + +The people about him could give no information on the subject. He +entreated them to take him to the Island of the Seven Cities, which +could not be far off; told them all that had befallen him there; that +he had but to land to be received as Adelantado; when he would reward +them magnificently for their services. + +They regarded his words as the ravings of delirium, and in their honest +solicitude for the restoration of his reason, administered such rough +remedies that he was fain to drop the subject and observe a cautious +taciturnity. + +At length they arrived in the Tagus, and anchored before the famous +city of Lisbon. Don Fernando sprang joyfully on shore, and hastened +to his ancestral mansion. A strange porter opened the door, who knew +nothing of him or his family; no people of the name had inhabited the +house for many a year. + +He sought the mansion of Don Ramiro. He approached the balcony beneath +which he had bidden farewell to Serafina. Did his eyes deceive him? No! +There was Serafina herself among the flowers in the balcony. He raised +his arms toward her with an exclamation of rapture. She cast upon him a +look of indignation, and hastily retiring, closed the casement with a +slam that testified her displeasure. + +Could she have heard of his flirtation with the alcayde’s daughter? But +that was mere transient gallantry. A moment’s interview would dispel +every doubt of his constancy. + +He rang at the door; as it was opened by the porter he rushed +up-stairs; sought the well-known chamber, and threw himself at the feet +of Serafina. She started back with affright, and took refuge in the +arms of a youthful cavalier. + +“What mean you, Señor,” cried the latter, “by this intrusion?” + +“What right have you to ask the question?” demanded Don Fernando +fiercely. + +“The right of an affianced suitor!” + +Don Fernando started and turned pale. “Oh, Serafina! Serafina!” cried +he, in a tone of agony; “is this thy plighted constancy?” + +“Serafina? What mean you by Serafina, Señor? If this be the lady you +intend, her name is Maria.” + +“May I not believe my senses? May I not believe my heart?” cried Don +Fernando. “Is not this Serafina Alvarez, the original of yon portrait, +which, less fickle than herself, still smiles on me from the wall?” + +“Holy Virgin!” cried the young lady, casting her eyes upon the +portrait. “He is talking of my great-grand-mother!” + +An explanation ensued, if that could be called an explanation which +plunged the unfortunate Fernando into tenfold perplexity. If he might +believe his eyes, he saw before him his beloved Serafina; if he might +believe his ears, it was merely her hereditary form and features, +perpetuated in the person of her great-granddaughter. + +His brain began to spin. He sought the office of the Minister of +Marine, and made a report of his expedition, and of the Island of the +Seven Cities, which he had so fortunately discovered. Nobody knew +anything of such an expedition, or such an island. He declared that he +had undertaken the enterprise under a formal contract with the crown, +and had received a regular commission, constituting him Adelantado. +This must be matter of record, and he insisted loudly that the books +of the department should be consulted. The wordy strife at length +attracted the attention of an old gray-headed clerk, who sat perched +on a high stool, at a high desk, with iron-rimmed spectacles on the +top of a thin, pinched nose, copying records into an enormous folio. +He had wintered and summered in the department for a great part of a +century, until he had almost grown to be a piece of the desk at which +he sat; his memory was a mere index of official facts and documents, +and his brain was little better than red tape and parchment. After +peering down for a time from his lofty perch, and ascertaining the +matter in controversy, he put his pen behind his ear, and descended. +He remembered to have heard something from his predecessor about an +expedition of the kind in question, but then it had sailed during the +reign of Don Ioam II., and he had been dead at least a hundred years. +To put the matter beyond dispute, however, the archives of the Tore +do Tombo, that sepulchre of old Portuguese documents, were diligently +searched, and a record was found of a contract between the crown and +one Fernando de Ulmo, for the discovery of the Island of the Seven +Cities, and of a commission secured to him as Adelantado of the country +he might discover. + +“There!” cried Don Fernando, triumphantly, “there you have proof, +before your own eyes, of what I have said. I am the Fernando de Ulmo +specified in that record. I have discovered the Island of the Seven +Cities, and am entitled to be Adelantado, according to contract.” + +The story of Don Fernando had certainly, what is pronounced the best +of historical foundation, documentary evidence; but when a man, in the +bloom of youth, talked of events that had taken place above a century +previously, as having happened to himself, it is no wonder that he was +set down for a madman. + +The old clerk looked at him from above and below his spectacles, +shrugged his shoulders, stroked his chin, reascended his lofty +stool, took the pen from behind his ears, and resumed his daily and +eternal task, copying records into the fiftieth volume of a series of +gigantic folios. The other clerks winked, at each other shrewdly, and +dispersed to their several places, and poor Don Fernando, thus left to +himself, flung out of the office, almost driven wild by these repeated +perplexities. + +In the confusion of his mind, he instinctively repaired to the mansion +of Alvarez, but it was barred against him. To break the delusion under +which the youth apparently labored, and to convince him that the +Serafina about whom he raved was really dead, he was conducted to her +tomb. There she lay, a stately matron, cut out in alabaster; and there +lay her husband beside her, a portly cavalier, in armor; and there +knelt on each side, the effigies of a numerous progeny. Even the very +monument gave evidence of the lapse of time; the hands of her husband, +folded as if in prayer, had lost their fingers, and the face of the +once lovely Serafina was without a nose. + +Don Fernando felt a transient glow of indignation at beholding this +monumental proof of the inconstancy of his mistress; but who could +expect a mistress to remain constant during a whole century of absence? +And what right had he to rail about constancy, after what had passed +between himself and the alcayde’s daughter? The unfortunate cavalier +performed one pious act of tender devotion; he had the alabaster nose +of Serafina restored by a skillful statuary, and then tore himself from +the tomb. + +He could now no longer doubt the fact that, somehow or other, he had +skipped over a whole century, during the night he had spent at the +Island of the Seven Cities; and he was now as complete a stranger in +his native city, as if he had never been there. A thousand times did he +wish himself back to that wonderful island, with its antiquated banquet +halls, where he had been so courteously received; and now that the +once young and beautiful Serafina was nothing but a great-grandmother +in marble, with generations of descendants, a thousand times would he +recall the melting black eyes of the alcayde’s daughter, who doubtless, +like himself, was still flourishing in fresh juvenility, and breathe a +secret wish that he was seated by her side. + +He would at once have set on foot another expedition, at his own +expense, to cruise in search of the sainted island, but his means +were exhausted. He endeavored to rouse others to the enterprise, +setting forth the certainty of profitable results, of which his own +experience furnished such unquestionable proof. Alas! no one would +give faith to his tale; but looked upon it as the feverish dream of +a shipwrecked man. He persisted in his efforts; holding forth in all +places and all companies, until he became an object of jest and jeer +to the light-minded, who mistook his earnest enthusiasm for a proof of +insanity; and the very children in the streets bantered him with the +title of “The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.” + +Finding all efforts in vain, in his native city of Lisbon, he took +shipping for the Canaries, as being nearer the latitude of his former +cruise, and inhabited by people given to nautical adventure. Here he +found ready listeners to his story; for the old pilots and mariners of +those parts were notorious island-hunters, and devout believers in all +the wonders of the seas. Indeed, one and all treated his adventure as a +common occurrence, and turning to each other, with a sagacious nod of +the head, observed, “He has been at the island of St. Brandan.” + +They then went on to inform him of that great marvel and enigma of the +ocean; of its repeated appearance to the inhabitants of their islands; +and of the many but ineffectual expeditions that had been made in +search of it. They took him to a promontory of the island of Palma, +whence the shadowy St. Brandan had oftenest been descried, and they +pointed out the very tract in the west where its mountains had been +seen. + +Don Fernando listened with rapt attention. He had no longer a doubt +that this mysterious and fugacious island must be the same with that of +the Seven Cities; and that some supernatural influence connected with +it had operated upon himself, and made the events of a night occupy the +space of a century. + +He endeavored, but in vain, to rouse the islanders to another +attempt at discovery; they had given up the phantom island as indeed +inaccessible. Fernando, however, was not to be discouraged. The +idea wore itself deeper and deeper in his mind, until it became the +engrossing subject of his thoughts and object of his being. Every +morning he would repair to the promontory of Palma, and sit there +throughout the livelong day, in hopes of seeing the fairy mountains of +St. Brandan peering above the horizon; every evening he returned to his +home, a disappointed man, but ready to resume his post on the following +morning. + +His assiduity was all in vain. He grew gray in his ineffectual attempt; +and was at length found dead at his post. His grave is still shown in +the island of Palma, and a cross is erected on the spot where he used +to sit and look out upon the sea, in hopes of the reappearance of the +phantom island. + + + + +THE PIPE + +ANONYMOUS + + +I + + “RANDOLPH CRESCENT, N. W. + + “MY DEAR PUGH--I hope you will like the pipe which I send with this. + It is rather a curious example of a certain school of Indian carving. + And is a present from + + “Yours truly, JOSEPH TRESS.” + +It was really very handsome of Tress--very handsome! The more +especially as I was aware that to give presents was not exactly in +Tress’s line. The truth is that when I saw what manner of pipe it +was, I was amazed. It was contained in a sandalwood box, which was +itself illustrated with some remarkable specimens of carving. I use +the word “remarkable” advisedly, because, although the workmanship was +undoubtedly, in its way, artistic, the result could not be described +as beautiful. The carver had thought proper to ornament the box with +some of the ugliest figures I remember to have seen. They appeared to +me to be devils. Or perhaps they were intended to represent deities +appertaining to some mythological system with which, thank goodness, +I am unacquainted. The pipe itself was worthy of the case in which it +was contained. It was of meerschaum, with an amber mouthpiece. It was +rather too large for ordinary smoking. But then, of course, one doesn’t +smoke a pipe like that. There are pipes in my collection which I should +as soon think of smoking as I should of eating. Ask a china maniac to +let you have afternoon tea out of his Old Chelsea, and you will learn +some home truths as to the durability of human friendships. The glory +of the pipe, as Tress had suggested, lay in its carving. Not that I +claim that it was beautiful, any more than I make such a claim for the +carving on the box, but, as Tress said in his note, it was curious. + +The stem and the bowl were quite plain, but on the edge of the bowl was +perched some kind of lizard. I told myself it was an octopus when I +first saw it, but I have since had reason to believe that it was some +almost unique member of the lizard tribe. The creature was represented +as climbing over the edge of the bowl down toward the stem, and its +legs, or feelers, or tentacula, or whatever the things are called, +were, if I may use a vulgarism, sprawling about “all over the place.” +For instance, two or three of them were twined about the bowl, two or +three of them were twisted round the stem, and one, a particularly +horrible one, was uplifted in the air, so that if you put the pipe in +your mouth the thing was pointing straight at your nose. + +Not the least agreeable feature about the creature was that it was +hideously lifelike. It appeared to have been carved in amber, but +some coloring matter must have been introduced, for inside the amber +the creature was of a peculiarly ghastly green. The more I examined +the pipe the more amazed I was at Tress’s generosity. He and I are +rival collectors. I am not going to say, in so many words, that his +collection of pipes contains nothing but rubbish, because, as a matter +of fact, he has two or three rather decent specimens. But to compare +his collection to mine would be absurd. Tress is conscious of this, +and he resents it to such an extent that he has been known, at least +on one occasion, to declare that one single pipe of his--I believe he +alluded to the Brummagem relic preposterously attributed to Sir Walter +Raleigh--was worth the whole of my collection put together. Although +I have forgiven this, as I hope I always shall forgive remarks made +when envious passions get the better of our nobler nature, even of a +Joseph Tress, it is not to be supposed that I have forgotten it. He +was, therefore, not at all the sort of person from whom I expected to +receive a present. And such a present! I do not believe that he himself +had a finer pipe in his collection. And to have given it to me! I had +misjudged the man. I wondered where he had got it from. I had seen his +pipes; I knew them off by heart--and some nice trumpery he has among +them, too! but I had never seen _that_ pipe before. The more I looked +at it, the more my amazement grew. The beast perched upon the edge of +the bowl was so lifelike. Its two bead-like eyes seemed to gleam at me +with positively human intelligence. The pipe fascinated me to such an +extent that I actually resolved to--smoke it! + +I filled it with Perique. Ordinarily I use Birdseye, but on those +very rare occasions on which I use a specimen I smoke Perique. I lit +up with quite a small sensation of excitement. As I did so I kept my +eyes perforce fixed upon the beast. The beast pointed its upraised +tentacle directly at me. As I inhaled the pungent tobacco that +tentacle impressed me with a feeling of actual uncanniness. It was +broad daylight, and I was smoking in front of the window, yet to such +an extent was I affected that it seemed to me that the tentacle was +not only vibrating, which, owing to the peculiarity of its position, +was quite within the range of probability, but actually moving, +elongating--stretching forward, that is, farther toward me, and toward +the tip of my nose. So impressed was I by this idea that I took the +pipe out of my mouth and minutely examined the beast. Really, the +delusion was excusable. So cunningly had the artist wrought that he +succeeded in producing a creature which, such was its uncanniness, I +could only hope had no original in nature. + +Replacing the pipe between my lips I took several whiffs. Never had +smoking had such an effect on me before. Either the pipe, or the +creature on it, exercised some singular fascination. I seemed, without +an instant’s warning, to be passing into some land of dreams. I saw the +beast, which was perched upon the bowl, writhe and twist. I saw it lift +itself bodily from the meerschaum. + + +II + +“Feeling better now?” + +I looked up. Joseph Tress was speaking. + +“What’s the matter? Have I been ill?” + +“You appear to have been in some kind of swoon.” + +Tress’s tone was peculiar, even a little dry. + +“Swoon! I never was guilty of such a thing in my life.” + +“Nor was I, until I smoked that pipe.” + +I sat up. The act of sitting up made me conscious of the fact that I +had been lying down. Conscious, too, that I was feeling more than a +little dazed. It seemed as though I was waking out of some strange, +lethargic sleep--a kind of feeling which I have read of and heard +about, but never before experienced. + +“Where am I?” + +“You’re on the couch in your own room. You _were_ on the floor; but +I thought it would be better to pick you up and place you on the +couch--though no one performed the same kind office to me when I was on +the floor.” + +Again Tress’s tone was distinctly dry. + +“How came _you_ here?” + +“Ah, that’s the question.” He rubbed his chin--a habit of his which has +annoyed me more than once before. “Do you think you’re sufficiently +recovered to enable you to understand a little simple explanation?” I +stared at him, amazed. He went on stroking his chin. “The truth is +that when I sent you the pipe I made a slight omission.” + +“An omission?” + +“I omitted to advise you not to smoke it.” + +“And why?” + +“Because--well, I’ve reason to believe the thing is drugged.” + +“Drugged!” + +“Or poisoned.” + +“Poisoned!” I was wide awake enough then. I jumped off the couch with a +celerity which proved it. + +“It is this way. I became its owner in rather a singular manner.” He +paused, as if for me to make a remark; but I was silent. “It is not +often that I smoke a specimen, but, for some reason, I did smoke this. +I commenced to smoke it, that is. How long I continued to smoke it is +more than I can say. It had on me the same peculiar effect which it +appears to have had on you. When I recovered consciousness I was lying +on the floor.” + +“On the floor?” + +“On the floor. In about as uncomfortable a position as you can easily +conceive. I was lying face downward, with my legs bent under me. I was +never so surprised in my life as I was when I found myself _where_ I +was. At first I supposed that I had had a stroke. But by degrees it +dawned upon me that I didn’t _feel_ as though I had had a stroke.” +Tress, by the way, has been an army surgeon. “I was conscious of +distinct nausea. Looking about, I saw the pipe. With me it had fallen +on to the floor. I took it for granted, considering the delicacy of the +carving, that the fall had broken it. But when I picked it up I found +it quite uninjured. While I was examining it a thought flashed to my +brain. Might it not be answerable for what had happened to me? Suppose, +for instance, it was drugged? I had heard of such things. Besides, in +my case were present all the symptoms of drug poisoning, though what +drug had been used I couldn’t in the least conceive. I resolved that I +would give the pipe another trial.” + +“On yourself? or on another party, meaning me?” + +“On myself, my dear Pugh--on myself! At that point of my investigations +I had not begun to think of you. I lit up and had another smoke.” + +“With what result?” + +“Well, that depends on the standpoint from which you regard the thing. +From one point of view the result was wholly satisfactory--I proved +that the thing was drugged, and more.” + +“Did you have another fall?” + +“I did. And something else besides.” + +“On that account, I presume, you resolved to pass the treasure on to +me?” + +“Partly on that account, and partly on another.” + +“On my word, I appreciate your generosity. You might have labeled the +thing as poison.” + +“Exactly. But then you must remember how often you have told me that +you _never_ smoke your specimens.” + +“That was no reason why you shouldn’t have given me a hint that the +thing was more dangerous than dynamite.” + +“That did occur to me afterwards. Therefore I called to supply the +slight omission.” + +“_Slight_ omission, you call it! I wonder what you would have called it +if you had found me dead.” + +“If I had known that you _intended_ smoking it I should not have been +at all surprised if I had.” + +“Really, Tress, I appreciate your kindness more and more! And where +is this example of your splendid benevolence? Have you pocketed it, +regretting your lapse into the unaccustomed paths of generosity? Or is +it smashed to atoms?” + +“Neither the one nor the other. You will find the pipe upon the table. +I neither desire its restoration nor is it in any way injured. It +is merely an expression of personal opinion when I say that I don’t +believe that it _could_ be injured. Of course, having discovered its +deleterious properties, you will not want to smoke it again. You will +therefore be able to enjoy the consciousness of being the possessor of +what I honestly believe to be the most remarkable pipe in existence. +Good day, Pugh.” + +He was gone before I could say a word. I immediately concluded, from +the precipitancy of his flight, that the pipe _was_ injured. But when I +subjected it to close examination I could discover no signs of damage. +While I was still eyeing it with jealous scrutiny the door reopened, +and Tress came in again. + +“By the way, Pugh, there is one thing I might mention, especially as I +know it won’t make any difference to you.” + +“That depends on what it is. If you have changed your mind, and want +the pipe back again, I tell you frankly that it won’t. In my opinion, a +thing once given is given for good.” + +“Quite so; I don’t want it back again. You may make your mind easy on +that point. I merely wanted to tell you _why_ I gave it you.” + +“You have told me that already.” + +“Only partly, my dear Pugh--only partly. You don’t suppose I should +have given you such a pipe as that merely because it happened to be +drugged? Scarcely! I gave it you because I discovered from indisputable +evidence, and to my cost, that it was haunted.” + +“Haunted?” + +“Yes, haunted. Good day.” + +He was gone again. I ran out of the room, and shouted after him down +the stairs. He was already at the bottom of the flight. + +“Tress! Come back! What do you mean by talking such nonsense?” + +“Of course it’s only nonsense. We know that that sort of thing always +is nonsense. But if you should have reason to suppose that there is +something in it besides nonsense, you may think it worth your while +to make inquiries of me. But I won’t have that pipe back again in my +possession on any terms--mind that!” + +The bang of the front door told me that he had gone out into the +street. I let him go. I laughed to myself as I reëntered the room. +Haunted! That was not a bad idea of his. I saw the whole position at a +glance. The truth of the matter was that he did regret his generosity, +and he was ready to go any lengths if he could only succeed in cajoling +me into restoring his gift. He was aware that I have views upon certain +matters which are not wholly in accordance with those which are +popularly supposed to be the views of the day, and particularly that +on the question of what are commonly called supernatural visitations I +have a standpoint of my own. Therefore, it was not a bad move on his +part to try to make me believe that about the pipe on which he knew I +had set my heart there was something which could not be accounted for +by ordinary laws. Yet, as his own sense would have told him it would +do, if he had only allowed himself to reflect for a moment, the move +failed. Because I am not yet so far gone as to suppose that a pipe, a +thing of meerschaum and of amber, in the sense in which I understand +the word, _could_ be haunted--a pipe, a mere pipe. + +“Hollo! I thought the creature’s legs were twined right round the bowl!” + +I was holding the pipe in my hand, regarding it with the affectionate +eyes with which a connoisseur does regard a curio, when I was induced +to make this exclamation. I was certainly under the impression that, +when I first took the pipe out of the box, two, if not three of the +feelers had been twined about the bowl--twined _tightly_, so that +you could not see daylight between them and it. Now they were almost +entirely detached, only the tips touching the meerschaum, and those +particular feelers were gathered up as though the creature were in the +act of taking a spring. Of course I was under a misapprehension: the +feelers _couldn’t_ have been twined; a moment before I should have +been ready to bet a thousand to one that they were. Still, one does +make mistakes, and very egregious mistakes, at times. At the same +time, I confess that when I saw that dreadful-looking animal poised +on the extreme edge of the bowl, for all the world as though it were +just going to spring at me, I was a little startled. I remembered +that when I was smoking the pipe I did think I saw the uplifted +tentacle moving, as though it were reaching out to me. And I had a +clear recollection that just as I had been sinking into that strange +state of unconsciousness, I had been under the impression that the +creature was writhing and twisting, as though it had suddenly become +instinct with life. Under the circumstances, these reflections were not +pleasant. I wished Tress had not talked that nonsense about the thing +being haunted. It was surely sufficient to know that it was drugged and +poisonous, without anything else. + +I replaced it in the sandalwood box. I locked the box in a cabinet. +Quite apart from the question as to whether that pipe was or was not +haunted, I know it haunted me. It was with me in a figurative--which +was worse than actual--sense all the day. Still worse, it was with me +all the night. It was with me in my dreams. Such dreams! Possibly I +had not yet wholly recovered from the effects of that insidious drug, +but, whether or no, it was very wrong of Tress to set my thoughts +into such a channel. He knows that I am of a highly imaginative +temperament, and that it is easier to get morbid thoughts into my +mind than to get them out again. Before that night was through I +wished very heartily that I had never seen the pipe! I woke from one +nightmare to fall into another. One dreadful dream was with me all +the time--of a hideous, green reptile which advanced toward me out +of some awful darkness, slowly, inch by inch, until it clutched me +round the neck, and, gluing its lips to mine, sucked the life’s blood +out of my veins as it embraced me with a slimy kiss. Such dreams are +not restful. I woke anything but refreshed when the morning came. And +when I got up and dressed I felt that, on the whole, it would perhaps +have been better if I never had gone to bed. My nerves were unstrung, +and I had that generally tremulous feeling which is, I believe, an +inseparable companion of the more advanced stages of dipsomania. I ate +no breakfast. I am no breakfast eater as a rule, but that morning I ate +absolutely nothing. + +“If this sort of thing is to continue, I will let Tress have his pipe +again. He may have the laugh of me, but anything is better than this.” + +It was with almost funereal forebodings that I went to the cabinet in +which I had placed the sandalwood box. But when I opened it my feelings +of gloom partially vanished. Of what phantasies had I been guilty! It +must have been an entire delusion on my part to have supposed that +those tentacula had ever been twined about the bowl. The creature was +in exactly the same position in which I had left it the day before--as, +of course, I knew it would be--poised, as if about to spring. I was +telling myself how foolish I had been to allow myself to dwell for a +moment on Tress’s words, when Martin Brasher was shown in. + +Brasher is an old friend of mine. We have a common ground--ghosts. +Only we approach them from different points of view. He takes the +scientific--psychological--inquiry side. He is always anxious to hear +of a ghost, so that he may have an opportunity of “showing it up.” + +“I’ve something in your line here,” I observed, as he came in. + +“In my line? How so? _I’m_ not pipe mad.” + +“No; but you’re ghost mad. And this is a haunted pipe.” + +“A haunted pipe! I think you’re rather more mad about ghosts, my dear +Pugh, than I am.” + +Then I told him all about it. He was deeply interested, especially +when I told him that the pipe was drugged. But when I repeated Tress’s +words about its being haunted, and mentioned my own delusion about the +creature moving, he took a more serious view of the case than I had +expected he would do. + +“I propose that we act on Tress’s suggestion, and go and make inquiries +of him.” + +“But you don’t really think that there is anything in it?” + +“On these subjects I never allow myself to think at all. There are +Tress’s words, and there is your story. It is agreed on all hands +that the pipe has peculiar properties. It seems to me that there is a +sufficient case here to merit inquiry.” + +He persuaded me. I went with him. The pipe, in the sandalwood box, went +too. Tress received us with a grin--a grin which was accentuated when I +placed the sandalwood box on the table. + +“You understand,” he said, “that a gift is a gift. On no terms will I +consent to receive that pipe back in my possession.” + +I was rather nettled by his tone. + +“You need be under no alarm. I have no intention of suggesting anything +of the kind.” + +“Our business here,” began Brasher--I must own that his manner is a +little ponderous--“is of a scientific, I may say also, and at the same +time, of a judicial nature. Our object is the Pursuit of Truth and the +Advancement of Inquiry.” + +“Have you been trying another smoke?” inquired Tress, nodding his head +toward me. + +Before I had time to answer, Brasher went droning on: + +“Our friend here tells me that you say this pipe is haunted.” + +“I say it is haunted because it _is_ haunted.” + +I looked at Tress. I half suspected that he was poking fun at us. But +he appeared to be serious enough. + +“In these matters,” remarked Brasher, as though he were giving +utterance to a new and important truth, “there is a scientific and +nonscientific method of inquiry. The scientific method is to begin at +the beginning. May I ask how this pipe came into your possession?” + +Tress paused before he answered. + +“You may ask.” He paused again. “Oh, you certainly may ask. But it +doesn’t follow that I shall tell you.” + +“Surely your object, like ours, can be but the Spreading About of the +Truth?” + +“I don’t see it at all. It is possible to imagine a case in which the +spreading about of the truth might make me look a little awkward.” + +“Indeed!” Brasher pursed up his lips. “Your words would almost lead one +to suppose that there was something about your method of acquiring the +pipe which you have good and weighty reasons for concealing.” + +“I don’t know why I should conceal the thing from you. I don’t suppose +either of you is any better than I am. I don’t mind telling you how I +got the pipe. I stole it.” + +“Stole it!” + +Brasher seemed both amazed and shocked. But I, who had previous +experience of Tress’s methods of adding to his collection, was not at +all surprised. Some of the pipes which he calls his, if only the whole +truth about them were publicly known, would send him to jail. + +“That’s nothing!” he continued. “All collectors steal! The eighth +commandment was not intended to apply to them. Why, Pugh there has +‘conveyed’ three-fourths of the pipes which he flatters himself are +his.” + +I was so dumbfounded by the charge that it took my breath away. I sat +in astounded silence. Tress went raving on: + +“I was so shy of this particular pipe when I had obtained it, that I +put it away for quite three months. When I took it out to have a look +at it something about the thing so tickled me that I resolved to smoke +it. Owing to peculiar circumstances attending the manner in which the +thing came into my possession, and on which I need not dwell--you don’t +like to dwell on those sort of things, do you, Pugh?--I knew really +nothing about the pipe. As was the case with Pugh, one peculiarity I +learned from actual experience. It was also from actual experience that +I learned that the thing was--well, I said haunted, but you may use any +other word you like.” + +“Tell us, as briefly as possible, what it was you really did discover.” + +“Take the pipe out of the box!” Brasher took the pipe out of the box +and held it in his hand. “You see that creature on it. Well, when I +first had it, it was underneath the pipe.” + +“How do you mean that it was underneath the pipe?” + +“It was bunched together underneath the stem, just at the end of the +mouthpiece, in the same way in which a fly might be suspended from the +ceiling. When I began to smoke the pipe I saw the creature move.” + +“But I thought that unconsciousness immediately followed.” + +“It did follow, but not before I saw that the thing was moving. It +was because I thought that I had been, in a way, a victim of delirium +that I tried the second smoke. Suspecting that the thing was drugged I +swallowed what I believed would prove a powerful antidote. It enabled +me to resist the influence of the narcotic much longer than before, and +while I still retained my senses I saw the creature crawl along under +the stem and over the bowl. It was that sight, I believe, as much as +anything else, which sent me silly. When I came to, I then and there +decided to present the pipe to Pugh. There is one more thing I would +remark. When the pipe left me the creature’s legs were twined about the +bowl. Now they are withdrawn. Possibly you, Pugh, are able to cap my +story with a little one which is all your own.” + +“I certainly did imagine that I saw the creature move. But I supposed +that while I was under the influence of the drug imagination had played +me a trick.” + +“Not a bit of it! Depend upon it, the beast is bewitched. Even to my +eye it looks as though it were, and to a trained eye like yours, Pugh! +You’ve been looking for the devil a long time, and you’ve got him at +last.” + +“I--I wish you wouldn’t make those remarks, Tress. They jar on me.” + +“I confess,” interpolated Brasher--I noticed that he had put the pipe +down on the table as though he were tired of holding it--“that, to _my_ +thinking, such remarks are not appropriate. At the same time what you +have told us is, I am bound to allow, a little curious. But of course +what I require is ocular demonstration. I haven’t seen the movement +myself.” + +“No, but you very soon will do so, if you care to have a pull at the +pipe on your own account. Do, Brasher, to oblige me! There’s a dear!” + +“It appears, then, that the movement is only observable when the pipe +is smoked. We have at least arrived at step No. 1.” + +“Here’s a match, Brasher! Light up, and we shall have arrived at step +No. 2.” + +Tress lit a match and held it out to Brasher. Brasher retreated from +its neighborhood. + +“Thank you, Mr. Tress, I am no smoker, as you are aware. And I have no +desire to acquire the art of smoking by means of a poisoned pipe.” + +Tress laughed. He blew out the match and threw it into the grate. + +“Then I tell you what I’ll do--I’ll have up Bob.” + +“Bob--why Bob?” + +“Bob”--whose real name was Robert Haines, though I should think he must +have forgotten the fact, so seldom was he addressed by it--was Tress’s +servant. He had been an old soldier, and had accompanied his master +when he left the service. He was as depraved a character as Tress +himself. I am not sure even that he was not worse than his master. I +shall never forget how he once behaved toward myself. He actually had +the assurance to accuse me of attempting to steal the Wardour Street +relic which Tress fondly deludes himself was once the property of Sir +Walter Raleigh. The truth is that I had slipped it with my handkerchief +into my pocket in a fit of absence of mind. A man who could accuse _me_ +of such a thing would be guilty of anything. I was therefore quite at +one with Brasher when he asked what Bob could possibly be wanted for. +Tress explained. + +“I’ll get him to smoke the pipe,” he said. + +Brasher and I exchanged glances, but we refrained from speech. + +“It won’t do him any harm,” said Tress. + +“What--not a poisoned pipe?” asked Brasher. + +“It’s not poisoned--it’s only drugged.” + +“_Only_ drugged!” + +“Nothing hurts Bob. He is like an ostrich. He has digestive organs +which are peculiarly his own. It will only serve him as it served +me--and Pugh--it will knock him over. It is all done in the Pursuit of +Truth and for the Advancement of Inquiry.” + +I could see that Brasher did not altogether like the tone in which +Tress repeated his words. As for me, it was not to be supposed that +I should put myself out in a matter which in no way concerned me. If +Tress chose to poison the man, it was his affair, not mine. He went to +the door and shouted: + +“Bob! Come here, you scoundrel!” + +That is the way in which he speaks to him. No really decent servant +would stand it. I shouldn’t care to address Nalder, my servant, in +such a way. He would give me notice on the spot. Bob came in. He is a +great hulking fellow who is always on the grin. Tress had a decanter of +brandy in his hand. He filled a tumbler with the neat spirit. + +“Bob, what would you say to a glassful of brandy--the real thing--my +boy?” + +“Thank you, sir.” + +“And what would you say to a pull at a pipe when the brandy is drunk!” + +“A pipe?” The fellow is sharp enough when he likes. I saw him look +at the pipe upon the table, and then at us, and then a gleam of +intelligence came into his eyes. “I’d do it for a dollar, sir.” + +“A dollar, you thief?” + +“I meant ten shillings, sir.” + +“Ten shillings, you brazen vagabond?” + +“I should have said a pound.” + +“A pound! Was ever the like of that! Do I understand you to ask a pound +for taking a pull at your master’s pipe?” + +“I’m thinking that I’ll have to make it two.” + +“The deuce you are! Here, Pugh, lend me a pound.” + +“I’m afraid I’ve left my purse behind.” + +“Then lend me ten shillings--Ananias!” + +“I doubt if I have more than five.” + +“Then give me the five. And, Brasher, lend me the other fifteen.” + +Brasher lent him the fifteen. I doubt if we shall either of us ever see +our money again. He handed the pound to Bob. + +“Here’s the brandy--drink it up!” Bob drank it without a word, draining +the glass of every drop. “And here’s the pipe.” + +“Is it poisoned, sir?” + +“Poisoned, you villain! What do you mean?” + +“It isn’t the first time I’ve seen your tricks, sir--is it now? And +you’re not the one to give a pound for nothing at all. If it kills me +you’ll send my body to my mother--she’d like to know that I was dead.” + +“Send your body to your grandmother! You idiot, sit down and smoke!” + +Bob sat down. Tress had filled the pipe, and handed it, with a lighted +match, to Bob. The fellow declined the match. He handled the pipe very +gingerly, turning it over and over, eying it with all his eyes. + +“Thank you, sir--I’ll light up myself if it’s the same to you. I carry +matches of my own. It’s a beautiful pipe, entirely. I never see the +like of it for ugliness. And what’s the slimy-looking varmint that +looks as though it would like to have my life? Is it living, or is it +dead?” + +“Come, we don’t want to sit here all day, my man!” + +“Well, sir, the look of this here pipe has quite upset my stomach. I’d +like another drop of liquor, if it’s the same to you.” + +“Another drop! Why, you’ve had a tumblerful already! Here’s another +tumblerful to put on top of that. You won’t want the pipe to kill +you--you’ll be killed before you get to it.” + +“And isn’t it better to die a natural death?” + +Bob emptied the second tumbler of brandy as though it were water. I +believe he would empty a hogshead without turning a hair! Then he gave +another look at the pipe. Then, taking a match from his waistcoat +pocket, he drew a long breath, as though he were resigning himself to +fate. Striking the match on the seat of his trousers, while, shaded by +his hand, the flame was gathering strength, he looked at each of us in +turn. When he looked at Tress I distinctly saw him wink his eye. What +my feelings would have been if a servant of mine had winked his eye at +me I am unable to imagine! The match was applied to the tobacco, a puff +of smoke came through his lips--the pipe was alight! + +During this process of lighting the pipe we had sat--I do not wish to +use exaggerated language, but we had sat and watched that alcoholic +scamp’s proceedings as though we were witnessing an action which would +leave its mark upon the age. When we saw the pipe was lighted we gave a +simultaneous start. Brasher put his hands under his coat tails and gave +a kind of hop. I raised myself a good six inches from my chair, and +Tress rubbed his palms together with a chuckle. Bob alone was calm. + +“Now,” cried Tress, “you’ll see the devil moving.” + +Bob took the pipe from between his lips. + +“See what?” he said. + +“Bob, you rascal, put that pipe back into your mouth, and smoke it for +your life!” + +Bob was eyeing the pipe askance. + +“I dare say, but what I want to know is whether this here varmint’s +dead or whether he ain’t. I don’t want to have him flying at my +nose--and he looks vicious enough for anything.” + +“Give me back that pound, you thief, and get out of my house, and +bundle.” + +“I ain’t going to give you back no pound.” + +“Then smoke that pipe!” + +“I am smoking it, ain’t I?” + +With the utmost deliberation Bob returned the pipe to his mouth. He +emitted another whiff or two of smoke. + +“Now--now!” cried Tress, all excitement, and wagging his hand in the +air. + +We gathered round. As we did so Bob again withdrew the pipe. + +“What is the meaning of all this here? I ain’t going to have you +playing none of your larks on me. I know there’s something up, but I +ain’t going to throw my life away for twenty shillings--not quite I +ain’t.” + +Tress, whose temper is not at any time one of the best, was seized with +quite a spasm of rage. + +“As I live, my lad, if you try to cheat me by taking that pipe from +between your lips until I tell you, you leave this room that instant, +never again to be a servant of mine.” + +I presume the fellow knew from long experience when his master meant +what he said, and when he didn’t. Without an attempt at remonstrance he +replaced the pipe. He continued stolidly to puff away. Tress caught me +by the arm. + +“What did I tell you? There--there! That tentacle is moving.” + +The uplifted tentacle _was_ moving. It was doing what I had seen it do, +as I supposed, in my distorted imagination--it was reaching forward. +Undoubtedly Bob saw what it was doing; but, whether in obedience to his +master’s commands, or whether because the drug was already beginning +to take effect, he made no movement to withdraw the pipe. He watched +the slowly advancing tentacle, coming closer and closer toward his +nose, with an expression of such intense horror on his countenance that +it became quite shocking. Farther and farther the creature reached +forward, until on a sudden, with a sort of jerk, the movement assumed a +downward direction, and the tentacle was slowly lowered until the tip +rested on the stem of the pipe. For a moment the creature remained +motionless. I was quieting my nerves with the reflection that this +thing was but some trick of the carver’s art, and that what we had seen +we had seen in a sort of nightmare, when the whole hideous reptile was +seized with what seemed to be a fit of convulsive shuddering. It seemed +to be in agony. It trembled so violently that I expected to see it +loosen its hold of the stem and fall to the ground. I was sufficiently +master of myself to steal a glance at Bob. We had had an inkling of +what might happen. He was wholly unprepared. As he saw that dreadful, +human-looking creature, coming to life, as it seemed, within an inch or +two of his nose, his eyes dilated to twice their usual size. I hoped, +for his sake, that unconsciousness would supervene, through the action +of the drug, before through sheer fright his senses left him. Perhaps +mechanically he puffed steadily on. + +The creature’s shuddering became more violent. It appeared to swell +before our eyes. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the shuddering +ceased. There was another instant of quiescence. Then the creature +began to crawl along the stem of the pipe! It moved with marvelous +caution, the merest fraction of an inch at a time. But still it moved! +Our eyes were riveted on it with a fascination which was absolutely +nauseous. I am unpleasantly affected even as I think of it now. My +dreams of the night before had been nothing to this. + +Slowly, slowly, it went, nearer and nearer to the smoker’s nose. Its +mode of progression was in the highest degree unsightly. It glided, +never, so far as I could see, removing its tentacles from the stem of +the pipe. It slipped its hind-most feelers onward until they came up +to those which were in advance. Then, in their turn, it advanced those +which were in front. It seemed, too, to move with the utmost labor, +shuddering as though it were in pain. + +We were all, for our parts, speechless. I was momentarily hoping that +the drug would take effect on Bob. Either his constitution enabled him +to offer a strong resistance to narcotics, or else the large quantity +of neat spirit which he had drunk acted--as Tress had malevolently +intended that it should--as an antidote. It seemed to me that he would +_never_ succumb. On went the creature--on, and on, in its infinitesimal +progression. I was spellbound. I would have given the world to scream, +to have been able to utter a sound. I could do nothing else but watch. + +The creature had reached the end of the stem. It had gained the amber +mouthpiece. It was within an inch of the smoker’s nose. Still on it +went. It seemed to move with greater freedom on the amber. It increased +its rate of progress. It was actually touching the foremost feature +on the smoker’s countenance. I expected to see it grip the wretched +Bob, when it began to oscillate from side to side. Its oscillations +increased in violence. It fell to the floor. That same instant the +narcotic prevailed. Bob slipped sideways from the chair, the pipe still +held tightly between his rigid jaws. + +We were silent. There lay Bob. Close beside him lay the creature. A few +more inches to the left, and he would have fallen on and squashed it +flat. It had fallen on its back. Its feelers were extended upward. They +were writhing and twisting and turning in the air. + +Tress was the first to speak. + +“I think a little brandy won’t be amiss.” Emptying the remainder of the +brandy into the glass, he swallowed it at a draught. “Now for a closer +examination of our friend.” Taking a pair of tongs from the grate he +nipped the creature between them. He deposited it upon the table. “I +rather fancy that this is a case for dissection.” + +He took a penknife from his waistcoat pocket. Opening the large +blade, he thrust its point into the object on the table. Little or no +resistance seemed to be offered to the passage of the blade, but as it +was inserted the tentacula simultaneously began to writhe and twist. +Tress withdrew the knife. + +“I thought so!” He held the blade out for our inspection. The point was +covered with some viscid-looking matter. “That’s blood! The thing’s +alive!” + +“Alive!” + +“Alive! That’s the secret of the whole performance!” + +“But----” + +“But me no buts, my Pugh! The mystery’s exploded! One more ghost is +lost to the world! The person from whom I _obtained_ that pipe was an +Indian juggler--up to many tricks of the trade. He, or some one for +him, got hold of this sweet thing in reptiles--and a sweeter thing +would, I imagine, be hard to find--and covered it with some preparation +of, possible, gum arabic. He allowed this to harden. Then he stuck +the thing--still living, for that sort of gentry are hard to kill--to +the pipe. The consequence was that when anyone lit up, the warmth was +communicated to the adhesive agent--again some preparation of gum, no +doubt--it moistened it, and the creature, with infinite difficulty, was +able to move. But I am open to lay odds with any gentleman of sporting +taste that _this_ time the creature’s traveling days _are_ done. It +has given me rather a larger taste of the horrors than is good for my +digestion.” + +With the aid of the tongs he removed the creature from the table. He +placed it on the hearth. Before Brasher or I had a notion of what it +was he intended to do, he covered it with a heavy marble paper weight. +Then he stood upon the weight, and between the marble and heart he +ground the creature flat. + +While the execution was still proceeding, Bob sat up upon the floor. + +“Hollo!” he asked, “what’s happened?” + +“We’ve emptied the bottle, Bob,” said Tress. “But there’s another where +that came from. Perhaps you could drink another tumblerful, my boy?” + +Bob drank it! + +FOOTNOTE + +“Those gentry are hard to kill.” Here is fact, not fantasy. Lizard +yarns no less sensational than this Mystery Story can be found between +the covers of solemn, zoölogical textbooks. + +Reptiles, indeed, are far from finicky in the matters of air, space, +and especially warmth. Frogs and other such sluggish-blooded creatures +have lived after being frozen fast in ice. Their blood is little warmer +than air or water, enjoying no extra casing of fur or feathers. + +Air and food seem held in light esteem by lizards. Their blood need +not be highly oxygenated; it nourishes just as well when impure. In +temperate climes lizards lie torpid and buried all winter; some species +of the tropic deserts sleep peacefully all summer. Their anatomy +includes no means for the continuous introduction and expulsion of +air; reptilian lungs are little more than closed sacs, without cell +structure. + +If any further zoölogical fact were needed to verify the dénouement of +“The Pipe,” it might be the general statement that lizards are abnormal +brutes anyhow. Consider the chameleons of unsettled hue. And what is +one to think of an animal which, when captured by the tail, is able to +make its escape by willfully shuffling off that appendage?--EDITOR. + + + + +THE UPPER BERTH + +By F. MARION CRAWFORD + +[Attribution: Reprinted by permission of the publishers (in England, +T. Fisher Unwin, and in America, The Macmillan Company) from F. Marion +Crawford’s “Wandering Ghosts,” copyright, 1911.] + + +I + +Somebody asked for the cigars. We had talked so long, and the +conversation was beginning to languish, the tobacco smoke had got into +the heavy curtains, the wine had got into those brains which were +liable to become heavy, and it was already perfectly evident, unless +somebody did something to rouse our oppressed spirits, the meeting +would soon come to its natural conclusion, and we, the guests, would +speedily go home to bed, and most certainly to sleep. No one had +said anything very remarkable, it may be no one had anything to say. +Jones had given us every particular of his last hunting adventure in +Yorkshire. Mr. Tompkins, of Boston, had explained at elaborate length +those working principles by the due and careful maintenance of which +the Atchison, Topeka, and Sante Fe Railroad not only extended its +territory, increased its departmental influence, and transported live +stock without starving them to death before the day of actual delivery, +but also, had for years succeeded in deceiving those passengers who +bought its tickets into the fallacious belief that the corporation +aforesaid was really able to transport human life without destroying +it. Signor Tombola had endeavored to persuade us, by arguments which +we took no trouble to oppose, that the unity of his country in no way +resembled the average modern torpedo, carefully planned, constructed +with all the skill of the greatest European arsenals, but, when +constructed, destined to be directed by feeble hands into a region +where it must undoubtedly explode, unseen, unfeared, and unheard, into +the illimitable wastes of political chaos. + +It is unnecessary to go into further details. The conversation had +assumed proportions which would have bored Prometheus on his rock, +which would have driven Tantalus to distraction, and which would +have impelled Ixion to seek relaxation in the simple but instructive +dialogues of Herr Ollendorf, rather than submit to the greater evil of +listening to our talk. We had sat at a table for hours; we were bored, +we were tired, and nobody showed signs of moving. + +Somebody called for cigars. We all instinctively looked toward the +speaker. Brisbane was a man of five-and-thirty-years of age, and +remarkable for those gifts which chiefly attract the attention of men. +He was a strong man. The external proportions of his figure presented +nothing extraordinary to the common eye, though his size was above the +average. He was a little over six feet in height, and moderately broad +in the shoulder; he did not appear to be stout, but, on the other hand +he was certainly not thin; his small head was supported by a strong and +sinewy neck; his broad, muscular hands seemed to possess a peculiar +skill in breaking walnuts without the assistance of the ordinary +cracker, and, seeing him in profile, one could not help remarking the +extraordinary breadth of his sleeves and the unusual thickness of his +chest. He was one of those men who are commonly spoken of among men as +deceptive; that is to say, that though he looked exceedingly strong, +he was in reality very much stronger than he looked. Of his features +I need say little. His head is small, his hair is thin, his eyes are +blue, his nose is large, he has a small mustache and a square jaw. +Everybody knows Brisbane, and when he asked for a cigar everybody +looked at him. + +“It is a very singular thing,” said Brisbane. + +Everybody stopped talking. Brisbane’s voice was not loud, but possessed +a peculiar quality of penetrating general conversation and cutting +it like a knife. Everybody listened. Brisbane perceiving that he +had attracted their general attention, lighted his cigar with equal +equanimity. + +“It is very singular,” he continued, “that thing about ghosts. People +are always asking whether anybody has seen a ghost. I have.” + +“Bosh! What, you? You don’t mean to say so, Brisbane? Well, for a man +of his intelligence!” + +A chorus of exclamations greeted Brisbane’s remarkable statement. +Everybody called for cigars, and Stubbs, the butler, suddenly appeared +from the depths of nowhere with a fresh bottle of dry champagne. The +situation was saved; Brisbane was going to tell a story. + +“I am an old sailor,” said Brisbane, “and as I have to cross the +Atlantic pretty often, I have my favorites. Most men have their +favorites. I have seen a man wait in a Broadway bar for three-quarters +of an hour for a particular car which he liked. I believe the barkeeper +made at least one-third of his living by that man’s preference. I have +a habit of waiting for certain ships when I am obliged to cross that +duckpond. It may be a prejudice, but I was never cheated out of a good +passage but once in my life. I remember it very well; it was a warm +morning in June, and the custom house officials, who were hanging about +waiting for a steamer already on her way up from quarantine, presented +a peculiarly hazy and thoughtful appearance. I had not much luggage--I +never have. I mingled with the crowd of passengers, porters, and +officious individuals in blue coats and brass buttons, who seemed to +spring up like mushrooms from the deck of a moored steamer to obtrude +their unnecessary services upon the independent passengers. I have +often noticed with a certain interest the spontaneous evolution of +these fellows. They are not there when you arrive; five minutes after +the pilot has called ‘Go ahead!’ they, or at least their blue coats and +brass buttons, have disappeared from deck and gangway as completely +as though they had been consigned to that locker which tradition +unanimously ascribes to Davy Jones. But, at the moment of starting, +they are there, clean-shaved, blue-coated, and ravenous for fees. I +hastened on board. The ‘Kamtschatka’ was one of my favorite ships. I +say was, because she emphatically no longer is. I cannot conceive of +any inducement which could entice me to make another voyage in her. +Yes, I know what you are going to say. She is uncommonly clean in the +run aft, she has enough bluffing off in the bows to keep her dry, +and the lower berths are the most of them double. She has a lot of +advantages, but I won’t cross in her again. Excuse the digression. I +got on board. I hailed the steward, whose red nose and redder whiskers +are equally familiar to me. + +“‘One hundred and five, lower berth,’ said I, in the business-like tone +peculiar to men who think no more of crossing the Atlantic than taking +a whiskey cocktail at downtown Delmonico’s. + +“The steward took my portmanteau, great coat, and rug. I shall never +forget the expression on his face. Not that he turned pale. It is +maintained by the most eminent divines that even miracles cannot change +the course of nature. I have no hesitation in saying that he did not +turn pale; but, from his expression, I judged that he was either about +to shed tears, to sneeze, or to drop my portmanteau. As the latter +contained two bottles of particularly fine old sherry, presented to +me for my voyage by my old friend Snigginson van Pickyns, I felt +extremely nervous. But the steward did none of these things. + +“‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ said he in a low voice, and led the way. + +“I supposed my Hermes, as he led me to the lower regions, had had a +little grog, but I said nothing, and followed him. One hundred and five +was on the port side, well aft. There was nothing remarkable about the +stateroom. The lower berth, like most of those upon the ‘Kamtschatka,’ +was double. There was plenty of room; there was the usual washing +apparatus, calculated to convey an idea of luxury to the mind of a +North American Indian; there were the usual inefficient racks of brown +wood, in which it is more easy to hang a large-sized umbrella than the +common toothbrush of commerce. Upon the uninviting mattresses were +carefully folded together those blankets which a great modern humorist +has aptly compared to cold buckwheat cakes. The question of towels +was left entirely to the imagination. The glass decanters were filled +with a transparent liquid faintly tinged with brown, but from which +an odor less faint, but not more pleasing, ascended to the nostrils, +like a far-off seasick reminiscence of oily machinery. Sad-colored +curtains half closed the upper berth. The hazy June daylight shed a +faint illumination upon the desolate little scene. Ugh! How I hate that +stateroom! + +“The steward deposited my traps and looked at me as though he wanted to +get away--probably in search of more passengers and more fees. It is +always a good plan to start in favor with those functionaries, and I +accordingly gave him certain coins there and then. + +“‘I’ll try and make yer comfortable all I can,’ he remarked, as he put +the coins in his pocket. Nevertheless, there was a doubtful intonation +in his voice which surprised me. Possibly his scale of fees had gone +up, and he was not satisfied; but on the whole I was inclined to think +that, as he himself would have expressed it, he was ‘the better for a +glass.’ I was wrong, however, and did the man injustice. + + +II + +“Nothing especially noteworthy of mention occurred during the day. We +left the pier punctually, and it was very pleasant to be fairly under +way, for the weather was warm and sultry, and the motion of the steamer +produced a refreshing breeze. + +“Everybody knows what the first day at sea is like. People pace the +decks and stare at each other, and occasionally meet acquaintances +whom they did not know to be on board. There is the usual uncertainty +as to whether the food will be good, bad, or indifferent, until the +first two meals have put the matter beyond a doubt, there is the usual +uncertainty about the weather, until the ship is fairly off Fire +Island. The tables are crowded at first, and then suddenly thinned. +Pale-faced people spring from their seats and precipitate themselves +toward the door, and each old sailor breathes more freely as his +seasick neighbor rushes from his side, leaving him plenty of elbow room +and an unlimited command over the mustard. + +“One passage across the Atlantic is very much like another, and we who +cross very often do not make the voyage for the sake of novelty. Whales +and icebergs are indeed always objects of interest, but, after all, one +whale is very much like another whale, and one rarely sees an iceberg +at close quarters. To the majority of us, the most delightful moment of +the day on board an ocean steamer is when we have taken our last turn +on deck, have smoked our last cigar, and having succeeded in tiring +ourselves, feel at liberty to turn in with a clear conscience. On that +first night of the voyage I felt particularly lazy, and went to bed +in one hundred and five rather earlier than I usually do. As I turned +in, I was amazed to see that I was to have a companion. A portmanteau, +very like my own, lay in the opposite corner, and in the upper berth +had been deposited a neatly folded rug with a stick and umbrella. I +had hoped to be alone, and I was disappointed; but I wondered who my +roommate was to be, and I determined to have a look at him. + +“Before I had been long in bed he entered. He was, as far as I +could see, a very tall man, very thin, very pale, with sandy hair +and whiskers, and colorless gray eyes. He had about him, I thought, +an air of rather dubious fashion; the sort of man you might see in +Wall Street, without being able precisely to say what he was doing +there--the sort of man who frequents the Café Anglais, who always +seems to be alone, and who drinks champagne; you might meet him on +a race-course, but he would never appear to be doing anything there +either. A little overdressed--a little odd. There are three or four of +his kind on every ocean steamer. I made up my mind that I did not care +to make his acquaintance, and I went to sleep saying to myself that I +would study his habits in order to avoid him. If he rose early, I would +rise late; if he went to bed late, I would go to bed early. I did not +care to know him. If you once know people of that kind they are always +turning up. Poor fellow! I need not have taken the trouble to come to +so many decisions about him, for I never saw him again after that first +night in one hundred and five. + +“I was sleeping soundly when I was suddenly waked by a loud noise. To +judge from the sound, my roommate must have sprung with a single leap +from the upper berth to the floor. I heard him fumbling with the latch +and bolt of the door, which opened almost immediately, and then I heard +his footsteps as he ran at full speed down the passage, leaving the +door open behind him. The ship was rolling a little, and I expected to +hear him stumble or fall, but he ran as though he were running for his +life. The door swung on its hinges with the motion of the vessel, and +the sound annoyed me. I got up and shut it, and groped my way back to +my berth in the darkness. I went to sleep again; but I have no idea +how long I slept. + +“When I awoke it was still quite dark, but I felt a disagreeable +sensation of cold, and it seemed to me that the air was damp. You +know the peculiar smell of a cabin which has been wet with sea water. +I covered myself up as well as I could and dozed off again, framing +compliments to be made the next day, and selecting the most powerful +epithets in language. I could hear my roommate turn over in the upper +berth. He had probably returned while I was asleep. Once I thought I +heard him groan, and I argued that he was seasick. That is particularly +unpleasant when one is below. Nevertheless I dozed off and slept till +early daylight. + +“The ship was rolling heavily, much more than on the previous evening, +and the gray light which came in through the porthole changed in tint +with every movement according as the angle of the vessel’s side turned +the glasses seaward or skyward. It was very cold--unaccountably so for +the month of June. I turned my head and looked at the porthole, and +saw to my surprise that it was wide open and hooked back. I believe I +swore audibly. Then I got up and shut it. As I turned back I glanced at +the upper berth. The curtains were drawn close together; my companion +had probably felt as cold as I. It struck me that I had slept enough. +The stateroom was uncomfortable, though, strange to say, I could not +smell the dampness which had annoyed me in the night. My roommate was +still asleep--excellent opportunity for avoiding him, so I dressed at +once and went on deck. The day was warm and cloudy, with an oily smell +on the water. It was seven o’clock as I came out--much later than I +had imagined. I came across the doctor, who was taking his first sniff +of the morning air. He was a young man from the West of Ireland--a +tremendous fellow, with black hair and blue eyes, already inclined to +be stout; he had a happy-go-lucky, healthy look about him which was +rather attractive. + +“‘Fine mornin’,’ I remarked by way of introduction. + +“‘Well,’ said he, eyeing me with an air of ready interest, ‘it’s a +fine morning and it’s not a fine morning. I don’t think it’s much of a +morning.’ + +“‘Well, no--it is not so very fine,’ said I. + +“‘It’s just what I call fuggly weather,’ replied the doctor. + +“‘It was very cold last night, I thought,’ I remarked. ‘However, when +I looked about, I found that the porthole was wide open. I had not +noticed it when I went to bed. And the stateroom was damp, too.’ + +“‘Damp!’ said he. ‘Whereabouts are you?’ + +“‘One hundred and five--’ + +“To my surprise the doctor started visibly, and stared at me. + +“‘What is the matter?’ I asked. + +“‘Oh--nothing,’ he answered; ‘only everybody has complained of that +stateroom for the last three trips.’ + +“‘I shall complain, too,’ I said. ‘It has certainly not been properly +aired. It is a shame!’ + +“‘I don’t believe it can be helped,’ answered the doctor. ‘I believe +there is something--well, it is not my business to frighten passengers.’ + +“‘You need not be afraid of frightening me,’ I replied. ‘I can stand +any amount of damp. If I should get a bad cold I will come to you.’ + +“I offered the doctor a cigar, which he took and examined very +critically. + +“‘It is not so much the damp,’ he remarked. ‘However, I dare say you +will get on very well. Have you a roommate?’ + +“‘Yes; a deuce of a fellow, who bolts out in the middle of the night +and leaves the door open.’ + +“Again the doctor glanced curiously at me. Then he lighted the cigar +and looked grave. + +“‘Did he come back?’ he asked presently. + +“‘Yes. I was asleep, but I waked up and heard him moving. Then I felt +cold and went to sleep again. This morning I found the porthole open.’ + +“‘Look here,’ said the doctor, quietly, ‘I don’t care much for this +ship. I don’t care a rap for her reputation. I tell you what I will do. +I have a good-sized place up here. I will share it with you, though I +don’t know you from Adam.’ + +“I was very much surprised at the proposition. I could not imagine +why he should take such a sudden interest in my welfare. However, his +manner as he spoke of the ship was peculiar. + +“‘You are very good, Doctor,’ I said. ‘But really, I believe even now +the cabin could be aired, or cleaned out, or something. Why do you not +care for the ship?’ + +“‘We are not superstitious in our profession, sir,’ replied the doctor. +‘But the sea makes people so. I don’t want to prejudice you, and I +don’t want to frighten you, but if you will take my advice you will +move in here. I would as soon see you overboard,’ he added, ‘as know +that you or any other man was to sleep in one hundred and five.’ + +“‘Good gracious! Why?’ I asked. + +“‘Just because on the last three trips the people who have slept there +actually have gone overboard,’ he answered gravely. + +“The intelligence was startling and exceedingly unpleasant, I confess. +I looked hard at the doctor to see whether he was making game of me, +but he looked perfectly serious. I thanked him warmly for his offer, +but told him I intended to be the exception to the rule by which +everyone who slept in that particular stateroom went overboard. He did +not say much, but looked as grave as ever, and hinted that before we +got across, I should probably reconsider his proposal. In the course +of time we went to breakfast, at which only an inconsiderable number +of passengers assembled. I noticed that one or two of the officers +who breakfasted with us looked grave. After breakfast I went into my +stateroom in order to get a book. The curtains of the upper berth +were still closely drawn. Not a word was to be heard. My roommate was +probably still asleep. + +“As I came out I met the steward whose business it was to look after +me. He whispered that the captain wanted to see me, and then scuttled +away down the passage as if very anxious to avoid any questions. I went +toward the captain’s cabin, and found him waiting for me. + +“‘Sir,’ said he, ‘I want to ask a favor of you.’ + +“I answered that I would do anything to oblige him. + +“‘Your roommate has disappeared,’ he said. ‘He is known to have turned +in early last night. Did you notice anything extraordinary in his +manner?’ + +“The question coming, as it did, in exact confirmation of the fears the +doctor had expressed half an hour earlier, staggered me. + +“‘You don’t mean to say that he has gone overboard?’ I asked. + +“‘I fear he has,’ answered the captain. + +“‘This is the most extraordinary thing--’ I began. + +“‘Why?’ he asked. + +“‘He is the fourth, then?’ I explained. In answer to another question +from the captain, I explained, without mentioning the doctor, that I +had heard the story concerning one hundred and five. He seemed very +much annoyed at hearing that I knew of it. I told him what had occurred +in the night. + +“‘What you say,’ he replied, ‘coincides almost exactly with what was +told me by the roommates of two of the other three. They bolt out of +bed and run down the passage. Two of them were seen to go overboard +by the watch, we stopped, and lowered boats, but they were not found. +Nobody, however, saw or heard the man who was lost last night--if he +is really lost. The steward, who is a superstitious fellow, perhaps, +and expected something to go wrong, went to look for him this morning, +and found his berth empty, but his clothes lying about, just as he had +left them. The steward was the only man on board who knew him by sight, +and he has been searching everywhere for him. He has disappeared! Now, +sir, I want to beg you not to mention the circumstance to any of the +passengers; I don’t want the ship to get a bad name, and nothing hangs +about an ocean-goer like stories of suicides. You shall have your +choice of any one of the officers’ cabins you like, including my own, +for the rest of the passage. Is that a fair bargain?’ + +“‘Very,’ I said; ‘and I am much obliged to you. But since I am alone, +and have the stateroom to myself, I would rather not move. If the +steward will take out that unfortunate man’s things, I would as lief +stay where I am. I will not say anything about the matter, and I think +I can promise you that I will not follow my roommate.’ + +“The captain tried to dissuade me from my intention, but I preferred +having a stateroom alone to being the chum of any officer on board. I +do not know whether I acted foolishly, but if I had taken his advice +I should have had nothing more to tell. There would have remained the +disagreeable coincidence of several suicides occurring among men who +had slept in the same cabin, but that would have been all. + +“That was not the end of the matter, however, by any means. I +obstinately made up my mind that I would not be disturbed by such +tales, and I even went so far as to argue the question with the +captain. There was something wrong about the stateroom, I said. It was +rather damp. The porthole had been left open last night. My roommate +might have been ill when he came on board, and he might have become +delirious after he went to bed. He might even now be hiding somewhere +on board, and might be found later. The place ought to be aired and the +fastening of the port looked to. If the captain would give me leave, I +would see that what I thought necessary was done immediately. + +“‘Of course you have a right to stay where you are if you please,’ he +replied, rather petulantly; ‘but I wish you would turn out and let me +lock the place up, and be done with it.’ + +“I did not see it in the same light, and left the captain, after +promising to be silent concerning the disappearance of my companion. +The latter had had no acquaintances on board, and was not missed in the +course of the day. Toward evening I met the doctor again, and he asked +me whether I had changed my mind. I told him I had not. + +“‘Then you will before long,’ he said, very gravely. + + +III + +“We played whist in the evening, and I went to bed late. I will confess +now that I felt a disagreeable sensation when I entered my stateroom. +I could not help thinking of the tall man I had seen on the previous +night, who was now dead, drowned, tossing about in the long swell, two +or three hundred miles astern. His face rose very distinctly before me +as I undressed, and I even went so far as to draw back the curtains +of the upper berth, as though to persuade myself that he was actually +gone. I also bolted the door of the stateroom. Suddenly I became aware +that the porthole was open and fastened back. This was more than I +could stand. I hastily threw on my dressing-gown, and went in search of +Robert, the steward of my passage. I was very angry, I remember, and +when I found him I dragged him roughly to the door of one hundred and +five, and pushed him toward the open porthole. + +“‘What the deuce do you mean, you scoundrel, by leaving that port open +every night? Don’t you know it is against the regulations? Don’t you +know that if the ship heeled and the water began to come in, ten men +could not shut it? I will report you to the captain, you blackguard, +for endangering the ship!’ + +“I was exceedingly wroth. The man trembled and turned pale, and then +began to shut the round glass plate with the heavy brass fittings. + +“‘Why don’t you answer me?’ I said roughly. + +“‘If you please, sir,’ faltered Robert, ‘there’s nobody on board as +can keep this ‘ere port shut at night. You can try it yourself, sir. +I ain’t a-going to stop hany longer on board o’ this vessel, sir; I +ain’t, indeed. But if I was you, sir, I’d just clear out and go and +sleep with the surgeon, or something, I would. Look ’ere, sir, is that +fastened what you may call securely, or not, sir? Try it, sir, see if +it will move a hinch.’ + +“I tried the port, and found it perfectly tight. + +“‘Well, sir,’ continued Robert, triumphantly; ‘I wager my reputation +as an A 1 steward, that in arf an hour it will be open again; fastened +back, too, sir, that’s the horful thing--fastened back!’ + +“I examined the great screw and the looped nut that ran on it. + +“‘If I find it open in the night, Robert, I will give you a sovereign. +It is not possible. You may go.’ + +“Soverin, did you say, sir? Very good, sir. Thank ye, sir. Good-night, +sir. Pleasant reepose, sir, and all manner of hinchantin’ dreams, sir.’ + +“Robert scuttled away, delighted at being released. Of course, I +thought he was trying to account for his negligence by a silly story, +intended to frighten me, and I disbelieved him. The consequence was +that he got his sovereign, and I spent a very peculiarly unpleasant +night. + +“I went to bed, and five minutes after I had rolled myself up in my +blankets the inexorable Robert extinguished the light that burned +steadily behind the ground-glass pane near the door. I lay quite still +in the dark trying to go to sleep, but I soon found that impossible. +It had been some satisfaction to be angry with the steward, and the +diversion had vanished that unpleasant sensation I had at first +experienced when I thought of the drowned man who had been my chum; but +I was no longer sleepy, and I lay awake for some time, occasionally +glancing at the porthole, which I could just see from where I lay, +and which, in the darkness, looked like a faintly luminous soup-plate +suspended in blackness. I believe I must have lain there for an hour, +and, as I remember, I was just dozing into sleep, when I was roused by +a draught of cold air, and by distinctly feeling the spray of the sea +blown upon my face. I started to my feet, and not having allowed in +the dark for the motion of the ship, I was instantly thrown violently +across the stateroom upon the couch which was placed beneath the +porthole. I recovered myself immediately, however, and climbed upon my +knees. The porthole was again wide open and fastened back! + +“Now these things are facts. I was wide awake when I got up, and +I should certainly have been waked by the fall had I been dozing. +Moreover, I bruised my elbows and knees badly, and the bruises were +there on the following morning to testify to the fact, if I myself had +doubted it. The porthole was wide open and fastened back--a thing so +unaccountable, that I remember very well feeling astonishment rather +than fear when I discovered it. I at once closed the plate again, and +screwed down the loop nut with all my strength. It was very dark in +the stateroom. I reflected that the port had certainly been opened +within an hour after Robert had at first shut it in my presence, and +I determined to watch it and see whether it would open again. Those +brass fittings are very heavy and by no means easy to move; I could not +believe that the clamp had been turned by the shaking of the screw. I +stood peering out through the thick glass at the alternate white and +gray streaks of the sea that foamed beneath the ship’s side. I must +have remained there a quarter of an hour. + +“Suddenly, as I stood, I distinctly heard something moving behind +me in one of the berths, and a moment afterward, just as I turned +instinctively to look--though I could, of course, see nothing in the +darkness--I heard a very faint groan. I sprang across the stateroom, +and tore the curtains of the upper berth aside, thrusting in my hands +to discover if there were any one there. There was some one. + +“I remember that the sensation as I put my hands forward was as though +I were plunging them into the air of a damp cellar, and from behind the +curtain came a gust of wind that smelled horribly of stagnant seawater. +I laid hold of something that had the shape of a man’s arm, but was +smooth, and wet, and icy cold. But suddenly, as I pulled, the creature +sprang violently forward against me, a clammy, oozy mass, as it seemed +to me, heavy and wet, yet endowed with a sort of supernatural strength. +I reeled across the stateroom, and in an instant the door opened and +the thing rushed out. I had not had time to be frightened, and quickly +recovering myself, I sprang through the door and gave chase at the top +of my speed, but I was too late. Ten yards before me I could see--I +am sure I saw it--a dark shadow moving in the dimly lighted passage, +quickly as the shadow of a fast horse thrown before a dog-cart by the +lamp on a dark night. But in a moment it had disappeared, and I found +myself holding on to the polished rail that ran along the bulkhead +where the passage turned toward the companion. My hair stood on end, +and the cold perspiration rolled down my face. I am not ashamed of it +in the least: I was very badly frightened. + +“Still I doubted my senses, and pulled myself together. It was absurd, +I thought. The Welsh rarebit I had eaten had disagreed with me. I had +been in a nightmare. I made my way back to my stateroom, and entered +it with an effort. The whole place smelled of stagnant seawater, as it +had when I had waked on the previous evening. It required my utmost +strength to go in and grope among my things for a box of wax lights. +As I lighted a railway reading-lantern which I always carry in case I +want to read after the lamps are out, I perceived that the porthole was +again open, and a sort of creeping horror began to take possession of +me which I never felt before, nor wish to feel again. But I got a light +and proceeded to examine the upper berth, expecting to find it drenched +with seawater. + +But I was disappointed. The bed had been slept in, and the smell of +the sea was strong, but the bedding was as dry as a bone. I fancied +that Robert had not had the courage to make the bed after the accident +of the previous night--it had all been a hideous dream. I drew the +curtains back as far as I could, and examined the place very carefully. +It was perfectly dry. But the porthole was open again. With a sort +of dull bewilderment of horror, I closed it and screwed it down, and +thrusting my heavy stick through the brass loop, wrenched it with all +my might, till the thick metal began to bend with the pressure. Then I +hooked my reading-lantern into the red velvet at the head of the couch, +and sat down to recover my senses if I could. I sat there all night, +unable to think of rest--hardly able to think at all. But the porthole +remained closed, and I did not believe it would now open again without +the application of a considerable force. + +“The morning dawned at last, and I dressed myself slowly, thinking +over all that had happened in the night. It was a beautiful day and +I went on deck, glad to get out in the early pure sunshine, and to +smell the breeze from the blue water, so different from the noisome, +stagnant odor from my stateroom. Instinctively I turned aft, toward the +surgeon’s cabin. There he stood with a pipe in his mouth, taking his +morning airing precisely as on the preceding day. + +“‘Good-morning,’ said he quietly, but looking at me with evident +curiosity. + +“‘Doctor, you were quite right,’ said I. ‘There is something wrong +about that place.’ + +“‘I thought you would change your mind,’ he answered, rather +triumphantly. ‘You have had a bad night, eh? Shall I make you a +pick-me-up? I have a capital recipe.’ + +“‘No, thanks,’ I cried. ‘But I would like to tell you what happened.’ + +“I then tried to explain as clearly as possible precisely what had +occurred, not omitting to state that I had been scared as I had never +been scared in my whole life before. I dwelt particularly on the +phenomenon of the porthole, which was a fact to which I could testify, +even if the rest had been an illusion. I had closed it twice in the +night, and the second time I had actually bent the brass in wrenching +it with my stick. I believe I insisted a good deal on this point. + +“‘You seem to think I am likely to doubt the story,’ said the doctor, +smiling at the detailed account of the state of the porthole. ‘I do not +doubt it in the least. I renew my invitation to you. Bring your traps +here, and take half my cabin.’ + +“‘Come and take mine for half of one night,’ I said. ‘Help me to get at +the bottom of this thing.’ + +“‘You will get at the bottom of something else if you try,’ answered +the doctor. + +“‘What?’ I asked. + +“‘The bottom of the sea. I am going to leave the ship. It is not canny.’ + +“‘Then you will not help me to find out--’ + +“‘Not I,’ said the doctor quickly. ‘It is my business to keep my wits +about me--not to go fiddling about with ghosts and things.’ + +“‘Do you really believe it is a ghost?’ I inquired, rather +contemptuously. But as I spoke, I remembered very well the horrible +sensation of the supernatural which had got possession of me during the +night. The doctor turned sharply on me: + +“‘Have you any reasonable explanation of these things to offer?’ he +asked. ‘No, you have not. Well, you say you will find an explanation. I +say that you won’t, sir, simply because there is not any.’ + +“‘But, my dear sir,’ I retorted, ‘do you, a man of science, mean to +tell me that such things can not be explained?’ + +“‘I do,’ he answered, stoutly. ‘And if they could, I would not be +concerned in the explanation.’ + +“I did not care to spend another night alone in the stateroom, and yet +I was obstinately determined to get at the root of the disturbances. +I do not believe there are many men who would have slept there +alone, after passing two such nights. But I made up my mind to try +it, if I could not get any one to share a watch with me. The doctor +was evidently not inclined for such an experiment. He said he was +a surgeon, and that in case any accident occurred on board, he +must always be in readiness. He could not afford to have his nerve +unsettled. Perhaps he was quite right, but I am inclined to think +that this precaution was prompted by his inclination. On inquiry, he +informed me that there was no one on board who would be likely to join +me in my investigations, and after a little more conversation I left +him. A little later I met the captain, and told him my story. I said +that if no one would spend the night with me, I would ask leave to have +the light burning all night, and would try it alone. + +“‘Look here,’ said he, ‘I will tell you what I will do. I will share +your watch myself, and we will see what happens. It is my belief that +we can find out between us. There may be some fellow skulking on board +who steals a passage by frightening the passengers. It is just possible +that there may be something queer in the carpentering of that berth.’ + +“I suggested taking the ship’s carpenter below and examining the place; +but I was overjoyed at the captain’s offer to spend the night with me. +He accordingly sent for the workman and ordered him to do anything I +required. We went below at once. I had all the bedding cleared out of +the upper berth, and we examined the place thoroughly to see if there +was a board loose anywhere, or a panel which could be opened or pushed +aside. We tried the planks everywhere, tapped the flooring, unscrewed +the fittings of the lower berth and took it to pieces--in short, there +was not a square inch of the stateroom which was not searched and +tested. Everything was in perfect order, and we put everything back in +its place. As we were finishing our work, Robert came to the door, and +looked in. + +“‘Well, sir--find anything, sir?’ he asked with a ghastly grin. + +“‘You were right about the porthole, Robert,’ I said, and I gave +him the promised sovereign. The carpenter did his work silently and +skilfully, following my directions. When he had done he spoke. + +“‘I’m a plain man, sir,’ he said. ‘But it’s my belief you had better +just turn out your things and let me run half a dozen four-inch screws +through the door of this cabin. There’s no good never came o’ this +cabin yet, sir, and that’s all about it. There’s been four lives lost +out o’ here to my own remembrance, and that in four trips. Better give +it up, sir--better give it up!’ + +“‘I will try it for one night more,’ I said. + +“‘Better give it up, sir--better give it up! It’s a precious bad job,’ +repeated the workman, putting his tools in his bag and leaving the +cabin. + +“But my spirits had risen considerably at the prospect of having the +captain’s company, and I made up my mind not to be prevented from going +to the end of the strange business. I abstained from Welsh rarebits +and grog that evening, and did not even join in the customary game of +whist. I wanted to be quite sure of my nerves, and my vanity made me +anxious to make a good figure in the captain’s eyes. + + +IV + +“The captain was one of those splendidly tough and cheerful specimens +of seafaring humanity, whose combined courage, hardihood, and calmness +in difficulty leads them naturally into high positions of trust. He +was not the man to be led away by an idle tale, and the mere fact +that he was willing to join me in the investigation was proof that +he thought there was something seriously wrong, which could not be +accounted for on ordinary theories, nor laughed down as a common +superstition. To some extent, too, his reputation was at stake, as well +as the reputation of the ship. It is no light thing to lose passengers +overboard, and he knew it. + +“About ten o’clock that evening, as I was smoking a last cigar, he came +up to me and drew me aside from the beat of the other passengers who +were patrolling the deck in the warm darkness. + +“‘This is a serious matter, Mr. Brisbane,’ he said. ‘We must make up +our minds either way--to be disappointed or to have a pretty rough time +of it. You see, I cannot afford to laugh at the affair, and I will ask +you to sign your name to a statement of whatever occurs. If nothing +happens to-night, we will try it again to-morrow and next day. Are you +ready?’ + +“So we went below and entered the stateroom. As we went in I could +see Robert, the steward, who stood a little further down the passage, +watching us, with his usual grin, as though certain that something +dreadful was about to happen. The captain closed the door behind us and +bolted it. + +“‘Suppose we put your portmanteau before the door,’ he suggested. ‘One +of us can sit on it. Nothing can get out then. Is the port screwed +down?’ + +“I found it as I had left it in the morning. Indeed, without using +a lever, as I had done, no one could have opened it. I drew back the +curtains of the upper berth so that I could see well into it. By the +captain’s advice, I lighted my reading-lantern, and placed it so that +it shone upon the white sheets above. He insisted upon sitting on the +portmanteau, declaring that he wished to be able to swear that he had +sat before the door. + +“Then he requested me to search the stateroom thoroughly, an operation +very soon accomplished, as it consisted merely in looking beneath the +lower berth and under the couch below the porthole. The spaces were +quite empty. + +“‘It is impossible for any human being to get in,’ I said, ’or for any +human being to open the port.’ + +“‘Very good,’ said the captain, calmly. ‘If we see anything now, it +must be either imagination or something supernatural.’ + +“I sat down on the edge of the lower berth. + +“‘The first time it happened,’ said the captain, crossing his legs and +leaning back against the door, ‘was in March. The passenger who slept +here, in the upper berth, turned out to have been a lunatic--at all +events, he was known to have been a little touched, and he had taken +his passage without the knowledge of his friends. He rushed out in the +middle of the night, and threw himself overboard, before the officer +who had the watch could stop him. We stopped and lowered a boat, it was +a quiet night, just before that heavy weather came on; but we could not +find him. Of course his suicide was afterward accounted for on the +ground of his insanity.’ + +“‘I suppose that often happens?’ I remarked, rather absently. + +“‘Not often--no,’ said the captain; ‘never before in my experience, +though I have heard of it happening on board of other ships. Well, as I +was saying, that occurred in March. On the very next trip--What are you +looking at?’ he asked, stopping suddenly in his narration. + +“I believe I gave no answer. My eyes were riveted upon the porthole. +It seemed to me that the brass loop-nut was beginning to turn very +slowly upon the screw--so slowly, however, that I was not sure it moved +at all. I watched it intently, fixing its position in my mind, and +trying to ascertain whether it changed. Seeing where I was looking, the +captain looked too. + +“‘It moves!’ he exclaimed, in a tone of conviction. ‘No, it does not,’ +he added, after a minute. + +“‘If it were the jarring of the screw,’ said I, ‘it would have opened +during the day; but I found it this evening jammed tight as I left it +this morning.’ + +“I rose and tried the nut. It was certainly loosened, for by an effort +I could move it with my hands. + +“‘The queer thing,’ said the captain, ‘is that the second man who was +lost is supposed to have got through that very port. We had a terrible +time over it. It was in the middle of the night, and the weather was +very heavy; there was an alarm that one of the ports was open and the +sea running in. I came below and found everything flooded, the water +pouring in every time she rolled, and the whole port swinging from the +top bolts--not the porthole in the middle. Well, we managed to shut +it, but the water did some damage. Ever since that the place smells +of seawater from time to time. We supposed the passenger had thrown +himself out, though the Lord only knows how he did it. The steward +kept telling me that he could not keep anything shut here. Upon my +word--I can smell it now, cannot you?’ he inquired, sniffing the air +suspiciously. + +“‘Yes--distinctly,’ I said, and I shuddered as that same odor of +stagnant seawater grew stronger in the cabin. ‘Now, to smell like this, +the place must be damp,’ I continued, ‘and yet when I examined it with +the carpenter this morning, everything was perfectly dry. It is most +extraordinary--hallo!’ + +“My reading-lantern, which had been placed in the upper berth, was +suddenly extinguished. There was still a good deal of light from the +pane of ground-glass near the door, behind which loomed the regulation +lamp. The ship rolled heavily, and the curtain of the upper berth swung +far out into the stateroom and back again. I rose quickly from my seat +on the edge of the bed, and the captain at the same moment started to +his feet with a loud cry of surprise. I had turned with the intention +of taking down the lantern to examine it, when I heard his exclamation, +and immediately afterward his call for help. I sprang toward him. He +was wrestling with all his might with the brass loop of the port. It +seemed to turn against his hands in spite of all his efforts. I caught +up my cane, a heavy oak stick I always used to carry, and thrust it +through the ring and bore on it with all my strength. But the strong +wood snapped suddenly, and I fell upon the couch. When I rose again the +port was wide open, and the captain was standing with his back against +the door pale to the lips. + +“‘There is something in that berth!’ he cried, in a strange voice, his +eyes almost starting from his head. ‘Hold the door, while I look--it +shall not escape us, whatever it is!’ + +“But instead of taking his place, I sprang upon the lower bed and +seized something which lay in the upper berth. + +“It was something ghostly, horrible beyond words, and it moved in my +grip. It was like the body of a man long drowned, and yet it moved +and had the strength of ten men living; but I gripped it with all my +might--the slippery, oozy, horrible thing. The dead white eyes seemed +to stare at me out of the dusk; the putrid odor of rank seawater was +about it, and its shiny hair hung in foul wet curls over its dead face. +I wrestled with the dead thing; it thrust itself upon me and forced +me back and nearly broke my arms; it wound its corpse’s arms about my +neck, the living death, and overpowered me, so that I, at last, cried +aloud and fell and left my hold. + +“As I fell, the thing sprang across me and seemed to throw itself upon +the captain. When I last saw him on his feet, his face was white and +his lips set. It seemed to me that he struck a violent blow at the +dead being, and then he, too, fell forward upon his face, with an +inarticulate cry of horror. + +“The thing paused an instant, seeming to hover over his prostrate +body, and I could have screamed again for very fright, but I had no +voice left. The thing vanished suddenly, and it seemed to my disturbed +senses that it made its exit through the open port, though how that +was possible, considering the smallness of the aperture, is more than +any one can tell. I lay a long time upon the floor, and the captain +lay beside me. At last I partially recovered my senses and moved, and +I instantly knew that my arm was broken--the small bone of the left +forearm near the wrist. + +“I got upon my feet somehow, and with my remaining hand I tried to +raise the captain. He groaned and moved, and at last came to himself. +He was not hurt, but he seemed badly stunned. + +“Well, do you want to hear any more? There is nothing more. That is the +end of my story. The carpenter carried out his scheme of running half a +dozen four-inch screws through the door of one hundred and five, and if +ever you take a passage in the ‘Kamtschatka,’ you may ask for a berth +in that stateroom. You will be told that it is engaged--yes--it is +engaged by that dead thing. + +“I finished the trip in the surgeon’s cabin. He doctored my broken arm, +and advised me not to ‘fiddle about with ghosts and things’ any more. +The captain was very silent, and never sailed again in that ship, +though it is still running. And I will not sail in her either. It was +a very disagreeable experience, and I was very badly frightened, which +is a thing I do not like. That is all. That is how I saw a ghost--if it +was a ghost. It was dead, anyhow.” + + + + +THE DIAMOND LENS + +By FITZ-JAMES O’BRIEN + +[Attribution From “The Diamond Lens, and Other Stories,” edited by +William Winter, 1885.] + + +I + +THE BENDING OF THE TWIG + +From a very early period of my life the entire bent of my inclinations +had been towards microscopic investigations. When I was not more than +ten years old, a distant relative of our family, hoping to astonish +my inexperience, constructed a simple microscope for me, by drilling +in a disk of copper a small hole, in which a drop of pure water was +sustained by capillary attraction. This very primitive apparatus, +magnifying some fifty diameters, presented, it is true, only indistinct +and imperfect forms, but still sufficiently wonderful to work up my +imagination to a preternatural state of excitement. + +Seeing me so interested in this rude instrument, my cousin explained +to me all that he knew about the principles of the microscope, related +to me a few of the wonders which had been accomplished through its +agency, and ended by promising to send me one regularly constructed, +immediately on his return to the city. I counted the days, the hours, +the minutes, that intervened between that promise and his departure. + +Meantime I was not idle. Every transparent substance that bore the +remotest resemblance to a lens I eagerly seized upon, and employed +in vain attempts to realize that instrument, the theory of whose +construction I as yet only vaguely comprehended. All panes of +glass containing those oblate spheroidal knots familiarly known as +“bull’s-eyes” were ruthlessly destroyed, in the hope of obtaining +lenses of marvellous power. I even went so far as to extract the +crystalline humor from the eyes of fishes and animals, and endeavored +to press it into the microscopic service. I plead guilty to having +stolen the glasses from my Aunt Agatha’s spectacles, with a dim idea of +grinding them into lenses of wondrous magnifying properties,--in which +attempt it is scarcely necessary to say that I totally failed. + +At last the promised instrument came. It was of that order known +as Field’s simple microscope, and had cost perhaps about fifteen +dollars. As far as educational purposes went, a better apparatus could +not have been selected. Accompanying it was a small treatise on the +microscope,--its history, uses, and discoveries. I comprehended then +for the first time the “Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.” The dull +veil of ordinary existence that hung across the world seemed suddenly +to roll away, and to lay bare a land of enchantments. I felt towards +my companions as the seer might feel towards the ordinary masses of +men. I held conversations with nature in a tongue which they could not +understand. I was in daily communication with living wonders, such as +they never imagined in their wildest visions. I penetrated beyond the +external portal of things, and roamed through the sanctuaries. Where +they beheld only a drop of rain slowly rolling down the window-glass, +I saw a universe of beings animated with all the passions common to +physical life, and convulsing their minute sphere with struggles as +fierce and protracted as those of men. In the common spots of mold, +which my mother, good housekeeper that she was, fiercely scooped away +from her jam pots, there abode for me, under the name of mildew, +enchanted gardens, filled with dells and avenues of the densest foliage +and most astonishing verdure, while from the fantastic boughs of these +microscopic forests, hung strange fruits glittering with green, and +silver, and gold. + +It was no scientific thirst that at this time filled my mind. It was +the pure enjoyment of a poet to whom a world of wonders has been +disclosed. I talked of my solitary pleasures to none. Alone with my +microscope, I dimmed my sight, day after day and night after night, +poring over the marvels which it unfolded to me. I was like one who, +having discovered the ancient Eden still existing in all its primitive +glory, should resolve to enjoy it in solitude, and never betray to +mortal the secret of its locality. The rod of my life was bent at this +moment. I destined myself to be a microscopist. + +Of course, like every novice, I fancied myself a discoverer. I was +ignorant at the time of the thousands of acute intellects engaged in +the same pursuit as myself, and with the advantage of instruments a +thousand times more powerful than mine. The names of Leeuwenhoek, +Williamson, Spencer, Ehrenberg, Schultz, Dujardin, Schact, and +Schleiden were then entirely unknown to me, or if known, I was ignorant +of their patient and wonderful researches. In every fresh specimen of +cryptogamia which I placed beneath my instrument I believed that I +discovered wonders of which the world was as yet ignorant. I remember +well the thrill of delight and admiration that shot through me the +first time that I discovered the common wheel animalcule (_Rotifera +vulgaris_) expanding and contracting its flexible spokes, and seemingly +rotating through the water. Alas! as I grew older, and obtained some +works treating of my favorite study, I found that I was only on the +threshold of a science to the investigation of which some of the +greatest men of the age were devoting their lives and intellects. + +As I grew up, my parents, who saw but little likelihood of anything +practical resulting from the examination of bits of moss and drops of +water through a brass tube and a piece of glass, were anxious that I +should choose a profession. It was their desire that I should enter the +counting-house of my uncle, Ethan Blake, a prosperous merchant, who +carried on business in New York. This suggestion I decisively combated. +I had no taste for trade; I should only make a failure; in short, I +refused to become a merchant. + +But it was necessary for me to select some pursuit. My parents were +staid New England people, who insisted on the necessity of labor; and +therefore, although, thanks to the bequest of my poor Aunt Agatha, I +should, on coming of age, inherit a small fortune sufficient to place +me above want, it was decided that, instead of waiting for this, +I should act the nobler part, and employ the intervening years in +rendering myself independent. + +After much cogitation I complied with the wishes of my family, and +selected a profession. I determined to study medicine at the New York +Academy. This disposition of my future suited me. A removal from my +relatives would enable me to dispose of my time as I pleased without +fear of detection. As long as I paid my Academy fees, I might shirk +attending the lectures if I chose; and, as I never had the remotest +intention of standing an examination, there was no danger of my being +“plucked.” Besides, a metropolis was the place for me. There I could +obtain excellent instruments, the newest publications, intimacy with +men of pursuits kindred with my own,--in short, all things necessary +to insure a profitable devotion of my life to my beloved science. I +had an abundance of money, few desires that were not bounded by my +illuminating mirror on one side and my object-glass on the other; what, +therefore, was to prevent my becoming an illustrious investigator of +the veiled worlds? It was with the most buoyant hope that I left my New +England home and established myself in New York. + + +II + +THE LONGING OF A MAN OF SCIENCE + +My first step, of course, was to find suitable apartments. These I +obtained, after a couple of days’ search, in Fourth Avenue; a very +pretty second-floor unfurnished, containing sitting-room, bedroom, +and a smaller apartment which I intended to fit up as a laboratory. +I furnished my lodgings simply, but rather elegantly, and then +devoted all my energies to the adornment of the temple of my worship. +I visited Pike, the celebrated optician, and passed in review his +splendid collection of microscopes,--Field’s Compound, Hingham’s, +Spencer’s, Nachet’s Binocular (that founded on the principles of the +stereoscope), and at length fixed upon that form known as Spencer’s +Trunnion Microscope, as combining the greatest number of improvements +with an almost perfect freedom from tremor. Along with this I purchased +every possible accessory,--draw-tubes, micrometers, a _camera-lucida_, +lever-stage, achromatic condensers, white cloud illuminators, prisms, +parabolic condensers, polarizing apparatus, forceps, aquatic boxes, +fishing-tubes, with a host of other articles, all of which would have +been useful in the hands of an experienced microscopist, but, as I +afterwards discovered, were not of the slightest present value to me. +It takes years of practice to know how to use a complicated microscope. +The optician looked suspiciously at me as I made these wholesale +purchases. He evidently was uncertain whether to set me down as some +scientific celebrity or a madman. I think he inclined to the latter +belief. I suppose I was mad. Every great genius is mad upon the subject +in which he is greatest. The unsuccessful madman is disgraced and +called a lunatic. + +Mad or not, I set myself to work with a zeal which few scientific +students have ever equalled. I had everything to learn relative to the +delicate study upon which I had embarked,--a study involving the most +earnest patience, the most rigid analytic powers, the steadiest hand, +the most untiring eyes, the most refined and subtile manipulation. + +For a long time half my apparatus lay inactively on the shelves of my +laboratory, which was now most amply furnished with every possible +contrivance for facilitating my investigations. The fact was that +I did not know how to use some of my scientific implements,--never +having been taught microscopics,--and those whose use I understood +theoretically were of little avail, until by practice I could attain +the necessary delicacy of handling. Still, such was the fury of my +ambition, such the untiring perseverance of my experiments, that, +difficult of credit as it may be, in the course of one year I became +theoretically and practically an accomplished microscopist. + +During this period of my labors, in which I submitted specimens of +every substance that came under my observation to the action of my +lenses, I became a discover--in a small way, it is true, for I was +very young, but still a discover. It was I who destroyed Ehrenberg’s +theory that the _Volvox globator_ was an animal, and proved that his +“nomads” with stomachs and eyes were merely phases of the formation +of a vegetable cell, and were, when they reached their mature state, +incapable of the act of conjugation, or any true generative act, +without which no organism rising to any stage of life higher than +vegetable can be said to be complete. It was I who resolved the +singular problem of rotation in the cells and hairs of plants into +ciliary attraction, in spite of the assertions of Mr. Wenham and +others, that my explanation was the result of an optical illusion. + +But notwithstanding these discoveries, laboriously and painfully made +as they were, I felt horribly dissatisfied. At every step I found +myself stopped by the imperfections of my instruments. Like all active +microscopists, I gave my imagination full play. Indeed, it is a common +complaint against many such, that they supply the defects of their +instruments with the creations of their brains. I imagined depths +beyond depths in nature which the limited power of my lenses prohibited +me from exploring. I lay awake at night constructing imaginary +microscopes of immeasurable power, with which I seemed to pierce +through the envelopes of matter down to its original atom. How I cursed +those imperfect mediums which necessity through ignorance compelled me +to use! How I longed to discover the secret of some perfect lens, whose +magnifying power should be limited only by the resolvability of the +object, and which at the same time should be free from spherical and +chromatic aberrations, in short from all the obstacles over which the +poor microscopist finds himself continually stumbling! I felt convinced +that the simple microscope, composed of a single lens of such vast +yet perfect power was possible of construction. To attempt to bring +the compound microscope up to such a pitch would have been commencing +at the wrong end; this latter being simply a partially successful +endeavor to remedy those very defects of the simple instrument which, +if conquered, would leave nothing to be desired. + +It was in this mood of mind that I became a constructive microscopist. +After another year passed in this new pursuit, experimenting on every +imaginable substance,--glass, gems, flints, crystals, artificial +crystals formed of the alloy of various vitreous materials,--in short, +having constructed as many varieties of lenses as Argus had eyes, I +found myself precisely where I started, with nothing gained save an +extensive knowledge of glass-making. I was almost dead with despair. My +parents were surprised at my apparent want of progress in my medical +studies (I had not attended one lecture since my arrival in the city), +and the expenses of my mad pursuit had been so great as to embarrass me +very seriously. + +I was in this frame of mind one day, experimenting in my laboratory +on a small diamond,--that stone, from its great refracting power, +having always occupied my attention more than any other,--when a young +Frenchman, who lived on the floor above me, and who was in the habit of +occasionally visiting me, entered the room. + +I think that Jules Simon was a Jew. He had many traits of the Hebrew +character: a love of jewelry, of dress, and of good living. There was +something mysterious about him. He always had something to sell, and +yet went into excellent society. When I say sell, I should perhaps have +said peddle; for his operations were generally confined to the disposal +of single articles,--a picture, for instance, or a rare carving in +ivory, or a pair of duelling-pistols, or the dress of a Mexican +_caballero_. When I was first furnishing my rooms, he paid me a visit, +which ended in my purchasing an antique silver lamp, which he assured +me was a Cellini,--it was handsome enough even for that,--and some +other knick-knacks for my sitting-room. Why Simon should pursue this +petty trade I never could imagine. He apparently had plenty of money, +and had the _entrée_ of the best houses in the city,--taking care, +however, I suppose, to drive no bargains within the enchanted circle of +the Upper Ten. I came at length to the conclusion that this peddling +was but a mask to cover some greater object, and even went so far as +to believe my young acquaintance to be implicated in the slave-trade. +That, however, was none of my affair. + +On the present occasion, Simon entered my room in a state of +considerable excitement. + +“_Ah! mon ami!_” he cried, before I could even offer him the ordinary +salutation, “it has occurred to me to be the witness of the most +astonishing things in the world. I promenade myself to the house of +Madame--how does the little animal--_le renard_--name himself in the +Latin?” + +“Vulpes,” I answered. + +“Ah! yes,--Vulpes. I promenade myself to the house of Madame Vulpes.” + +“The spirit medium?” + +“Yes, the great medium. Great heavens! what a woman! I write on a slip +of paper many of questions concerning affairs the most secret,--affairs +that conceal themselves in the abysses of my heart the most profound; +and behold! by example! what occurs? This devil of a woman makes me +replies the most truthful to all of them. She talks to me of things +that I do not love to talk of to myself. What am I to think? I am fixed +to the earth!” + +“Am I to understand you, M. Simon, that this Mrs. Vulpes replied to +questions secretly written by you, which questions related to events +known only to yourself?” + +“Ah! more than that, more than that,” he answered, with an air of some +alarm. “She related to me things--But,” he added, after a pause, and +suddenly changing his manner, “why occupy ourselves with these follies? +It was all the biology, without doubt. It goes without saying that it +has not my credence-- But why are we here, _mon ami_? It has occurred +to me to discover the most beautiful thing as you can imagine,--a vase +with green lizards on it, composed by the great Bernard Palissy. It is +in my apartment; let us mount. I go to show it to you.” + +I followed Simon mechanically; but my thoughts were far from Palissy +and his enamelled ware, although I, like him, was seeking in the dark +a great discovery. This casual mention of the spiritualist, Madame +Vulpes, set me on a new track. What if this spiritualism should be +really a great fact? What if, through communication with more subtile +organisms than my own, I could reach at a single bound the goal, which +perhaps a life of agonizing mental toil would never enable me to attain? + +While purchasing the Palissy vase from my friend Simon, I was mentally +arranging a visit to Madame Vulpes. + + +III + +THE SPIRIT OF LEEUWENHOEK + +Two evenings after this, thanks to an arrangement by letter and the +promise of an ample fee, I found Madame Vulpes awaiting me at her +residence alone. She was a coarse-featured woman, with keen and rather +cruel dark eyes, and an exceedingly sensual expression about her mouth +and under jaw. She received me in perfect silence, in an apartment on +the ground floor, very sparely furnished. In the centre of the room, +close to where Mrs. Vulpes sat, there was a common round mahogany +table. If I had come for the purpose of sweeping her chimney, the woman +could not have looked more indifferent to my appearance. There was +no attempt to inspire the visitor with awe. Everything bore a simple +and practical aspect. This intercourse with the spiritual world was +evidently as familiar an occupation with Mrs. Vulpes as eating her +dinner or riding in an omnibus. + +“You come for a communication, Mr. Linley?” said the medium, in a dry, +business-like tone of voice. + +“By appointment,--yes.” + +“What sort of communication do you want--a written one?” + +“Yes--I wish for a written one.” + +“From any particular spirit?” + +“Yes.” + +“Have you ever known this spirit on this earth?” + +“Never. He died long before I was born. I wish merely to obtain from +him some information which he ought to be able to give better than any +other.” + +“Will you seat yourself at the table, Mr. Linley,” said the medium, +“and place your hands upon it?” + +I obeyed,--Mrs. Vulpes being seated opposite to me, with her hands also +on the table. We remained thus for about a minute and a half, when a +violent succession of raps came on the table, on the back of my chair, +on the floor immediately under my feet, and even on the window-panes. +Mrs. Vulpes smiled composedly. + +“They are very strong to-night,” she remarked. “You are fortunate.” She +then continued, “Will the spirits communicate with this gentleman?” + +Vigorous affirmative. + +“Will the particular spirit he desires to speak with communicate?” + +A very confused rapping followed this question. + +“I know what they mean,” said Mrs. Vulpes, addressing herself to me; +“they wish you to write down the name of the particular spirit that +you desire to converse with. Is that so?” she added, speaking to her +invisible guests. + +That it was so was evident from the numerous affirmatory responses. +While this was going on, I tore a slip from my pocket-book, and +scribbled a name, under the table. + +“Will this spirit communicate in writing with this gentleman?” asked +the medium once more. + +After a moment’s pause, her hand seemed to be seized with a violent +tremor, shaking so forcibly that the table vibrated. She said that a +spirit had seized her hand and would write. I handed her some sheets +of paper that were on the table, and a pencil. The latter she held +loosely in her hand, which presently began to move over the paper with +a singular and seemingly involuntary motion. After a few moments had +elapsed, she handed me the paper, on which I found written, in a large, +uncultivated hand, the words, “He is not here, but has been sent for.” +A pause of a minute or so now ensued, during which Mrs. Vulpes remained +perfectly silent, but the raps continued at regular intervals. When the +short period I mention had elapsed, the hand of the medium was again +seized with its convulsive tremor, and she wrote, under this strange +influence, a few words on the paper, which she handed to me. They were +as follows:-- + +“I am here. Question me. Leeuwenhoek.” + +I was astounded. The name was identical with that I had written beneath +the table, and carefully kept concealed. Neither was it at all probable +that an uncultivated woman like Mrs. Vulpes should know even the name +of the great father of microscopics. It may have been biology; but +this theory was soon doomed to be destroyed. I wrote on my slip--still +concealing it from Mrs. Vulpes--a series of questions, which, to avoid +tediousness, I shall place with the responses, in the order in which +they occurred:-- + +I.--Can the microscope be brought to perfection? + +Spirit.--Yes. + +I.--Am I destined to accomplish this great task? + +Spirit.--You are. + +I.--I wish to know how to proceed to attain this end. For the love +which you bear to science, help me! + +Spirit.--A diamond of one hundred and forty carats, submitted to +electro-magnetic currents for a long period, will experience a +rearrangement of its atoms _inter se_, and from that stone you will +form the universal lens. + +I.--Will great discoveries result from the use of such a lens? + +Spirit.--So great that all that has gone before is as nothing. + +I.--But the refractive power of the diamond is so immense, that the +image will be formed within the lens. How is that difficulty to be +surmounted? + +Spirit.--Pierce the lens through its axis, and the difficulty is +obviated. The image will be formed in the pierced space, which will +itself serve as a tube to look through. Now I am called. Good-night. + +I cannot at all describe the effect that these extraordinary +communications had upon me. I felt completely bewildered. No biological +theory could account for the _discovery_ of the lens. The medium might, +by means of biological _rapport_ with my mind, have gone so far as to +read my questions, and reply to them coherently. But biology could +not enable her to discover that magnetic currents would so alter the +crystals of the diamond as to remedy its previous defects, and admit +of its being polished into a perfect lens. Some such theory may have +passed through my head, it is true; but if so, I had forgotten it. In +my excited condition of mind there was no course left but to become a +convert, and it was in a state of the most painful nervous exaltation +that I left the medium’s house that evening. She accompanied me to +the door, hoping that I was satisfied. The raps followed us as we went +through the hall, sounding on the balusters, the flooring, and even +the lintels of the door. I hastily expressed my satisfaction, and +escaped hurriedly into the cool night air. I walked home with but one +thought possessing me,--how to obtain a diamond of the immense size +required. My entire means multiplied a hundred times over would have +been inadequate to its purchase. Besides, such stones are rare, and +become historical. I could find such only in the regalia of Eastern or +European monarchs. + + +IV + +THE EYE OF MORNING + +There was a light in Simon’s room as I entered my house. A vague +impulse urged me to visit him. As I opened the door of his sitting-room +unannounced, he was bending, with his back toward me, over a carcel +lamp, apparently engaged in minutely examining some object which he +held in his hands. As I entered, he started suddenly thrust his hand +into his breast pocket, and turned to me with a face crimson with +confusion. + +“What!” I cried, “poring over the miniature of some fair lady? Well, +don’t blush so much; I won’t ask to see it.” + +Simon laughed awkwardly enough, but made none of the negative +protestations usual on such occasions. He asked me to take a seat. + +“Simon,” said I, “I have just come from Madame Vulpes.” + +This time Simon turned as white as a sheet, and seemed stupefied, as +if a sudden electric shock had smitten him. He babbled some incoherent +words, and went hastily to a small closet where he usually kept his +liquors. Although astonished at his emotion, I was too preoccupied with +my own idea to pay much attention to anything else. + +“You say truly when you call Madame Vulpes a devil of a woman,” I +continued. “Simon, she told me wonderful things to-night, or rather was +the means of telling me wonderful things. Ah! if I could only get a +diamond that weighed one hundred and forty carats!” + +Scarcely had the sigh with which I uttered this desire died upon +my lips, when Simon, with the aspect of a wild beast, glared at me +savagely, and, rushing to the mantelpiece, where some foreign weapons +hung on the wall, caught up a Malay creese, and brandished it furiously +before him. + +“No!” he cried in French, into which he always broke when excited. “No! +you shall not have it! You are perfidious! You have consulted with that +demon, and desire my treasure! But I will die first! Me! I am brave! +You cannot make me fear!” + +All this, uttered in a loud voice trembling with excitement, astounded +me. I saw at a glance that I had accidentally trodden upon the edges of +Simon’s secret, whatever it was. It was necessary to reassure him. + +“My dear Simon,” I said, “I am entirely at a loss to know what you +mean. I went to Madame Vulpes to consult with her on a scientific +problem, to the solution of which I discovered that a diamond of the +size I just mentioned was necessary. You were never alluded to during +the evening, nor, so far as I was concerned, even thought of. What +can be the meaning of this outburst? If you happen to have a set of +valuable diamonds in your possession, you need fear nothing from me. +The diamond which I require you could not possess; or, if you did +possess it, you would not be living here.” + +Something in my tone must have completely reassured him; for his +expression immediately changed to a sort of constrained merriment, +combined, however, with a certain suspicious attention to my movements. +He laughed, and said that I must bear with him; that he was at certain +moments subject to a species of vertigo, which betrayed itself in +incoherent speeches, and that the attacks passed off as rapidly as +they came. He put his weapon aside while making this explanation, and +endeavored, with some success, to assume a more cheerful air. + +All this did not impose on me in the least. I was too much accustomed +to analytical labors to be baffled by so flimsy a veil. I determined to +probe the mystery to the bottom. + +“Simon,” I said, gayly, “let us forget all this over a bottle of +Burgundy. I have a case of Lausseure’s _Clos Vougeot_ downstairs, +fragrant with the odors and ruddy with the sunlight of the Côte d’Or. +Let us have up a couple of bottles. What say you?” + +“With all my heart,” answered Simon, smilingly. + +I produced the wine and we seated ourselves to drink. It was of +a famous vintage, that of 1848, a year when war and wine throve +together,--and its pure but powerful juice seemed to impart renewed +vitality to the system. By the time we had half finished the second +bottle, Simon’s head, which I knew was a weak one, had begun to yield, +while I remained calm as ever, only that every draught seemed to send a +flush of vigor through my limbs. Simon’s utterance became more and more +indistinct. He took to singing French _chansons_ of a not very moral +tendency. I rose suddenly from the table just at the conclusion of one +of those incoherent verses, and fixing my eyes on him with a quiet +smile, said: “Simon, I have deceived you. I learned your secret this +evening. You may as well be frank with me. Mrs. Vulpes, or rather one +of her spirits, told me all.” + +He started with horror. His intoxication seemed for the moment to fade +away, and he made a movement towards the weapon that he had a short +time before laid down. I stopped him with my hand. + +“Monster!” he cried, passionately, “I am ruined! What shall I do? You +shall never have it! I swear by my mother!” + +“I don’t want it,” I said; “rest secure, but be frank with me. Tell me +all about it.” + +The drunkenness began to return. He protested with maudlin earnestness +that I was entirely mistaken,--that I was intoxicated; then asked me to +swear eternal secrecy, and promised to disclose the mystery to me. I +pledged myself, of course, to all. With an uneasy look in his eyes, and +hands unsteady with drink and nervousness, he drew a small case from +his breast and opened it. Heavens! How the mild lamplight was shivered +into a thousand prismatic arrows, as it fell upon a vast rose-diamond +that glittered in the case! I was no judge of diamonds, but I saw at a +glance that this was a gem of rare size and purity. I looked at Simon +with wonder, and--must I confess it?--with envy. How could he have +obtained this treasure? In reply to my questions, I could just gather +from his drunken statements (of which, I fancy, half the incoherence +was affected) that he had been superintending a gang of slaves engaged +in diamond-washing in Brazil; that he had seen one of them secrete a +diamond, but, instead of informing his employers, had quietly watched +the negro until he saw him bury his treasure; that he had dug it up +and fled with it, but that as yet he was afraid to attempt to dispose +of it publicly,--so valuable a gem being almost certain to attract too +much attention to its owner’s antecedents,--and he had not been able +to discover any of those obscure channels by which such matters are +conveyed away safely. He added, that, in accordance with oriental +practice, he had named his diamond with the fanciful title of “The Eye +of Morning.” + +While Simon was relating this to me, I regarded the great diamond +attentively. Never had I beheld anything so beautiful. All the glories +of light, ever imagined or described, seemed to pulsate in its +crystalline chambers. Its weight, as I learned from Simon, was exactly +one hundred and forty carats. Here was an amazing coincidence. The +hand of destiny seemed in it. On the very evening when the spirit of +Leeuwenhoek communicates to me the great secret of the microscope, the +priceless means which he directs me to employ start up within my easy +reach! I determined, with the most perfect deliberation, to possess +myself of Simon’s diamond. + +I sat opposite to him while he nodded over his glass, and calmly +revolved the whole affair. I did not for an instant contemplate so +foolish an act as a common theft, which would of course be discovered +or at least necessitate flight and concealment, all of which must +interfere with my scientific plans. There was but one step to be +taken,--to kill Simon. After all, what was the life of a little +peddling Jew, in comparison with the interests of science? Human beings +are taken every day from the condemned prisons to be experimented on +by surgeons. This man, Simon, was by his own confession a criminal, a +robber, and I believed on my soul a murderer. He deserved death quite +as much as any felon condemned by the laws: why should I not, like +government, contrive that his punishment should contribute to the +progress of human knowledge? + +The means for accomplishing everything I desired lay within my reach. +There stood upon the mantelpiece a bottle half full of French laudanum. +Simon was so occupied with his diamond, which I had just restored to +him, that it was an affair of no difficulty to drug his glass. In a +quarter of an hour he was in a profound sleep. + +I now opened his waistcoat, took the diamond from the inner pocket in +which he had placed it, and removed him to the bed, on which I laid him +so that his feet hung down over the edge. I had possessed myself of +the Malay creese, which I held in my right hand, while with the other +I discovered as accurately as I could by pulsation the exact locality +of the heart. It was essential that all the aspects of his death should +lead to the surmise of self-murder. I calculated the exact angle at +which it was probable that the weapon, if levelled by Simon’s own hand, +would enter his breast; then with one powerful blow I thrust it up to +the hilt in the very spot which I desired to penetrate. A convulsive +thrill ran through Simon’s limbs. I heard a smothered sound issue from +his throat, precisely like the bursting of a larger air-bubble, sent up +by a diver, when it reaches the surface of the water; he turned half +round on his side, and, as if to assist my plans more effectually, his +right hand, moved by some mere spasmodic impulse, clasped the handle +of the creese, which it remained holding with extraordinary muscular +tenacity. Beyond this there was no apparent struggle. The laudanum, +I presume, paralyzed the usual nervous action. He must have died +instantly. + +There was yet something to be done. To make it certain that all +suspicion of the act should be diverted from any inhabitant of the +house to Simon himself, it was necessary that the door should be found +in the morning _locked on the inside_. How to do this, and afterwards +escape myself? Not by the window; that was a physical impossibility. +Besides, I was determined that the windows _also_ should be found +bolted. The solution was simple enough. I descended softly to my own +room for a peculiar instrument which I had used for holding small +slippery substances, such as minute spheres of glass, etc. This +instrument was nothing more than a long slender hand-vise, with a very +powerful grip, and a considerable leverage, which last was accidentally +owing to the shape of the handle. Nothing was simpler than, when the +key was in the lock, to seize the end of its stem in this vise, through +the keyhole, from the outside, and lock the door. Previously, however, +to doing this, I burned a number of papers on Simon’s hearth. Suicides +almost always burn papers before they destroy themselves. I also +emptied some more laudanum into Simon’s glass,--having first removed +from it all traces of wine--cleaned the other wine-glass, and brought +the bottles away with me. If traces of two persons drinking had been +found in the room, the question naturally would have arisen, Who was +the second? Besides, the wine-bottles might have been identified as +belonging to me. The laudanum I poured out to account for its presence +in his stomach, in case of a post-mortem examination. The theory +naturally would be, that he first intended to poison himself, but, +after swallowing a little of the drug, was either disgusted with its +taste, or changed his mind from other motives, and chose the dagger. +These arrangements made, I walked out, leaving the gas burning, locked +the door with my vise, and went to bed. + +Simon’s death was not discovered until nearly three in the afternoon. +The servant, astonished at seeing the gas burning,--the light streaming +on the dark landing from under the door,--peeped through the keyhole +and saw Simon on the bed. She gave the alarm. The door was burst open, +and the neighborhood was in a fever of excitement. + +Everyone in the house was arrested, myself included. There was an +inquest; but no clew to his death beyond that of suicide could be +obtained. Curiously enough, he had made several speeches to his friends +the preceding week, that seemed to point to self-destruction. One +gentleman swore that Simon had said in his presence that “he was tired +of life.” His landlord affirmed that Simon, when paying him his last +month’s rent, remarked that “he should not pay him rent much longer.” +All the other evidence corresponded,--the door locked inside, the +position of the corpse, the burnt papers. As I anticipated, no one +knew of the possession of the diamond by Simon, so that no motive was +suggested for his murder. The jury, after a prolonged examination, +brought in the usual verdict, and the neigborhood once more settled +down into its accustomed quiet. + + +V + +ANIMULA + +The three months succeeding Simon’s catastrophe I devoted night and +day to my diamond lens. I had constructed a vast galvanic battery, +composed of nearly two thousand pairs of plates,--a higher power I +dared not use, lest the diamond should be calcined. By means of this +enormous engine I was enabled to send a powerful current of electricity +continually through my great diamond, which it seemed to me gained in +lustre every day. At the expiration of a month I commenced the grinding +and polishing of the lens, a work of intense toil and exquisite +delicacy. The great density of the stone, and the care required to be +taken with the curvatures of the surfaces of the lens, rendered the +labor the severest and most harassing that I had yet undergone. + +At last the eventful moment came; the lens was completed. I stood +trembling on the threshold of new worlds. I had the realization of +Alexander’s famous wish before me. The lens lay on the table, ready +to be placed upon its platform. My hand fairly shook as I enveloped a +drop of water with a thin coating of oil of turpentine, preparatory to +its examination,--a process necessary in order to prevent the rapid +evaporation of the water. I now placed the drop on a thin slip of glass +under the lens, and throwing upon it, by the combined aid of a prism +and a mirror, a powerful stream of light, I approached my eye to the +minute hole drilled through the axis of the lens. For an instant I saw +nothing save what seemed to be an illuminated chaos, a vast luminous +abyss. A pure white light, cloudless and serene, and seemingly as +limitless as space itself, was my first impression. Gently, and with +the greatest care, I depressed the lens a few hair’s-breadths. The +wondrous illumination still continued, but as the lens approached the +object a scene of indescribable beauty was unfolded to my view. + +I seemed to gaze upon a vast space, the limits of which extended far +beyond my vision. An atmosphere of magical luminousness permeated the +entire field of view. I was amazed to see no trace of animalculous +life. Not a living thing, apparently, inhabited that dazzling expanse. +I comprehended instantly that, by the wondrous power of my lens, I had +penetrated beyond the grosser particles of aqueous matter, beyond the +realms of infusoria and protozoa, down to the original gaseous globule, +into whose luminous interior I was gazing, as into an almost boundless +dome filled with a supernatural radiance. + +It was, however, no brilliant void into which I looked. On every side +I beheld beautiful inorganic forms, of unknown texture, and colored +with the most enchanting hues. These forms presented the appearance of +what might be called, for want of a more specific definition, foliated +clouds of the highest rarity; that is, they undulated and broke into +vegetable formations, and were tinged with splendors compared with +which the gilding of our autumn woodlands is as dross compared with +gold. Far away into the illimitable distance stretched long avenues of +these gaseous forests, dimly transparent, and painted with prismatic +hues of unimaginable brilliancy. The pendent branches waved along the +fluid glades until every vista seemed to break through half-lucent +ranks of many-colored drooping silken pennons. What seemed to be either +fruits or flowers, pied with a thousand hues lustrous and ever varying, +bubbled from the crowns of this fairy foliage. No hills, no lakes, no +rivers, no forms animate or inanimate, were to be seen, save those vast +auroral copses that floated serenely in the luminous stillness, with +leaves and fruits and flowers gleaming with unknown fires, unrealizable +by mere imagination. + +How strange, I thought, that this sphere should be thus condemned +to solitude! I had hoped, at least, to discover some new form of +animal life--perhaps of a lower class than any with which we are at +present acquainted, but still, some living organism. I found my newly +discovered world, if I may so speak, a beautiful chromatic desert. + +While I was speculating on the singular arrangements of the internal +economy of Nature, with which she so frequently splinters into atoms +our most compact theories, I thought I beheld a form moving slowly +through the glades of one of the prismatic forests. I looked more +attentively, and found that I was not mistaken. Words cannot depict the +anxiety with which I awaited the nearer approach of this mysterious +object. Was it merely some inanimate substance, held in suspense in the +attenuated atmosphere of the globule, or was it an animal endowed with +vitality and motion? It approached, flitting behind the gauzy, colored +veils of cloud-foliage, for seconds dimly revealed, then vanishing. At +last the violet pennons that trailed nearest to me vibrated; they were +gently pushed aside, and the form floated out into the broad light. + +It was a female human shape. When I say human, I mean it possessed the +outlines of humanity,--but there the analogy ends. Its adorable beauty +lifted it illimitable heights beyond the loveliest daughter of Adam. + +I cannot, I dare not, attempt to inventory the charms of this divine +revelation of perfect beauty. Those eyes of mystic violet, dewy and +serene, evade my words. Her long, lustrous hair following her glorious +head in a golden wake, like the track sown in heaven by a falling star, +seems to quench my most burning phrases with its splendors. If all the +bees of Hybla nestled upon my lips, they would still sing but hoarsely +the wondrous harmonies of outline that enclosed her form. + +She swept out from between the rainbow-curtains of the cloud-trees +into the broad sea of light that lay beyond. Her motions were those +of some graceful naiad, cleaving, by a mere effort of her will, the +clear, unruffled waters that fill the chambers of the sea. She floated +forth with the serene grace of a frail bubble ascending through the +still atmosphere of a June day. The perfect roundness of her limbs +formed suave and enchanting curves. It was like listening to the most +spiritual symphony of Beethoven the divine, to watch the harmonious +flow of lines. This, indeed, was a pleasure cheaply purchased at any +price. What cared I if I had waded to the portal of this wonder through +another’s blood? I would have given my own to enjoy one such moment of +intoxication and delight. + +Breathless with gazing on this lovely wonder, and forgetful for an +instant of everything save her presence, I withdrew my eye from the +microscope eagerly,--alas! As my gaze fell on the thin slide that lay +beneath my instrument, the bright light from mirror and from prism +sparkled on a colorless drop of water! There, in that tiny bead of dew, +this beautiful being was forever imprisoned. The planet Neptune was not +more distant from me than she. I hastened once more to apply my eye to +the microscope. + +Animula (let me now call her by that dear name which I subsequently +bestowed on her) had changed her position. She had again approached +the wondrous forest, and was gazing earnestly upwards. Presently one +of the trees--as I must call them--unfolded a long ciliary process, +with which it seized one of the gleaming fruits that glittered on its +summit, and, sweeping slowly down, held it within reach of Animula. The +sylph took it in her delicate hand and began to eat. My attention was +so entirely absorbed by her, that I could not apply myself to the task +of determining whether this singular plant was or was not instinct with +volition. + +I watched her, as she made her repast, with the most profound +attention. The suppleness of her motions sent a thrill of delight +through my frame; my heart beat madly as she turned her beautiful +eyes in the direction of the spot in which I stood. What would I not +have given to have had the power to precipitate myself into that +luminous ocean, and float with her through those groves of purple and +gold! While I was thus breathlessly following her every movement, she +suddenly started, seemed to listen for a moment, and then cleaving +the brilliant ether in which she was floating, like a flash of light, +pierced through the opaline forest, and disappeared. + +Instantly a series of the most singular sensations attacked me. It +seemed as if I had suddenly gone blind. The luminous sphere was +still before me, but my daylight had vanished. What caused this +sudden disappearance? Had she a lover or a husband? Yes, that was the +solution! Some signal from a happy fellow-being had vibrated through +the avenues of the forest, and she had obeyed the summons. + +The agony of my sensations, as I arrived at this conclusion, startled +me. I tried to reject the conviction that my reason forced upon me. I +battled against the fatal conclusion,--but in vain. It was so. I had no +escape from it. I loved an animalcule! + +It is true that, thanks to the marvellous power of my microscope, she +appeared of human proportions. Instead of presenting the revolting +aspect of the coarser creatures, that live and struggle and die, in the +more easily resolvable portions of the water-drop, she was fair and +delicate and of surpassing beauty. But of what account was all that? +Every time that my eyes was withdrawn from the instrument, it fell on a +miserable drop of water, within which, I must be content to know, dwelt +all that could make my life lovely. + +Could she but see me once! Could I for one moment pierce the mystical +walls that so inexorably rose to separate us, and whisper all that +filled my soul, I might consent to be satisfied for the rest of my +life with the knowledge of her remote sympathy. It would be something +to have established even the faintest personal link to bind us +together,--to know that at times, when roaming through those enchanted +glades, she might think of the wonderful stranger, who had broken the +monotony of her life with his presence, and left a gentle memory in her +heart! + +But it could not be. No invention of which human intellect was capable +could break down the barriers that nature had erected. I might feast +my soul upon the wondrous beauty, yet she must always remain ignorant +of the adoring eyes that day and night gazed upon her, and, even when +closed, beheld her in dreams. With a bitter cry of anguish I fled from +the room, and, flinging myself on my bed, sobbed myself to sleep like a +child. + + +VI + +THE SPILLING OF THE CUP + +I arose the next morning almost at daybreak, and rushed to my +microscope. I trembled as I sought the luminous world in miniature +that contained my all. Animula was there. I had left the gas-lamp, +surrounded by its moderators, burning when I went to bed the night +before. I found the sylph bathing, as it were, with an expression +of pleasure animating her features, in the brilliant light which +surrounded her. She tossed her lustrous golden hair over her shoulders +with innocent coquetry. She lay at full length in the transparent +medium, in which she supported herself with ease, and gambolled with +the enchanting grace that the nymph Salmacis might have exhibited when +she sought to conquer the modest Hermaphroditus. I tried an experiment +to satisfy myself if her powers of reflection were developed. I +lessened the lamplight considerably. By the dim light that remained, +I could see an expression of pain flit across her face. She looked +upward suddenly, and her brows contracted. I flooded the stage of the +microscope again with a full stream of light, and her whole expression +changed. She sprang forward like some substance deprived of all weight. +Her eyes sparkled and her lips moved. Ah! if science had only the +means of conducting and reduplicating sounds, as it does the rays of +light, what carols of happiness would then have entranced my ears! what +jubilant hymns to Adonais would have thrilled the illumined air! + +I now comprehend how it was that the Count de Gabalis peopled his +mystic world with sylphs,--beautiful beings whose breath of life was +lambent fire, and who sported forever in regions of purest ether and +purest light. The Rosicrucian had anticipated the wonder that I had +practically realized. + +How long this worship of my strange divinity went on thus I scarcely +know. I lost all note of time. All day from early dawn, and far into +the night, I was to be found peering through that wonderful lens. I saw +no one, went nowhere, and scarce allowed myself sufficient time for my +meals. My whole life was absorbed in contemplation as rapt as that of +any of the Romish saints. Every hour that I gazed upon the divine form +strengthened my passion,--a passion that was always overshadowed by the +maddening conviction that, although I could gaze on her at will, she +never, never could behold me! + +At length I grew so pale and emaciated from want of rest and continual +brooding over my insane love and its cruel conditions, that I +determined to make some effort to wean myself from it. “Come,” I said, +“this is at best but a fantasy. Your imagination has bestowed on +Animula charms which in reality she does not possess. Seclusion from +female society has produced this morbid condition of mind. Compare her +with the beautiful women of your own world, and this false enchantment +will vanish.” + +I looked over the newspapers by chance. There I beheld the +advertisement of a celebrated _danseuse_ who appeared nightly at +Niblo’s. The Signorina Caradolce had the reputation of being the most +beautiful as well as the most graceful woman in the world. I instantly +dressed and went to the theatre. + +The curtain drew up. The usual semicircle of fairies in white muslin +were standing on the right toe around the enamelled flower-bank, of +green canvas, on which the belated prince was sleeping. Suddenly a +flute is heard. The fairies start. The trees open, the fairies all +stand on the left toe, and the queen enters. It was the Signorina. She +bounded forward amid thunders of applause, and, lighting on one foot, +remained poised in air. Heavens! was this the great enchantress that +had drawn monarchs at her chariot-wheels? Those heavy muscular limbs, +those thick ankles, those cavernous eyes, that stereotyped smile, those +crudely painted cheeks! Where were the vermeil blooms, the liquid +expressive eyes, the harmonious limbs of Animula? + +The Signorina danced. What gross, discordant movements! The play of her +limbs was all false and artificial. Her bounds were painful athletic +efforts; her poses were angular and distressed the eye. I could bear +it no longer; with an exclamation of disgust that drew every eye +upon me, I rose from my seat in the very middle of the Signorina’s +_pas-de-fascination_, and abruptly quitted the house. + +I hastened home to feast my eyes once more on the lovely form of +my sylph. I felt that henceforth to combat this passion would be +impossible. I applied my eye to the lens. Animula was there,--but +what could have happened? Some terrible change seemed to have taken +place during my absence. Some secret grief seemed to cloud the lovely +features of her I gazed upon. Her face had grown thin and haggard; +her limbs trailed heavily; the wondrous lustre of her golden hair had +faded. She was ill!--ill, and I could not assist her! I believe at that +moment I would have gladly forfeited all claims to my human birthright, +if I could only have been dwarfed to the size of an animalcule, and +permitted to console her from whom fate had forever divided me. + +I racked my brain for the solution of this mystery. What was it that +afflicted the sylph? She seemed to suffer intense pain. Her features +contracted, and she even writhed, as if with some internal agony. The +wondrous forests appeared also to have lost half their beauty. Their +hues were dim and in some places faded away altogether. I watched +Animula for hours with a breaking heart, and she seemed absolutely to +wither away under my very eye. Suddenly I remembered that I had not +looked at the water-drop for several days. In fact, I hated to see it; +for it reminded me of the natural barrier between Animula and myself. +I hurriedly looked down on the stage of the microscope. The slide was +still there,--but, great heavens! the water-drop had vanished! The +awful truth burst upon me; it had evaporated; until it had become so +minute as to be invisible to the naked eye; I had been gazing on its +last atom, the one that contained Animula,--and she was dying! + +I rushed again to the front of the lens, and looked through. Alas! the +last agony had seized her. The rainbow-hued forests had all melted +away, and Animula lay struggling feebly in what seemed to be a spot +of dim light. Ah! the sight was horrible; the limbs once so round and +lovely shrivelling up into nothings; the eyes,--those eyes that shone +like heaven--being quenched into black dust; the lustrous golden hair +now lank and discolored. The last throe came. I beheld that final +struggle of the blackening form--and I fainted. + +When I awoke out of a trance of many hours, I found myself lying amid +the wreck of my instrument, myself as shattered in mind and body as it. +I crawled feebly to my bed, from which I did not rise for months. + +They say now that I am mad; but they are mistaken. I am poor, for I +have neither the heart nor the will to work; all my money is spent, and +I live on charity. Young men’s associations that love a joke invite me +to lecture on Optics before them, for which they pay me and laugh at me +while I lecture. “Linley, the mad microscopist,” is the name I go by. I +suppose that I talk incoherently while I lecture. Who could talk sense +when his brain is haunted by such ghastly memories, while ever and anon +among the shapes of death I behold the radiant form of my lost Animula! + + + + +THE HORLA + +By GUY DE MAUPASSANT + + +May 8th. What a lovely day! I have spent all the morning lying in the +grass in front of my house, under the enormous plantain tree which +covers it, and shades and shelters the whole of it. I like this part of +the country and I am fond of living here because I am attached to it by +deep roots, profound and delicate roots which attach a man to the soil +on which his ancestors were born and died, which attach him to what +people think and what they eat, to the usages as well as to the food, +local expression, the peculiar language of the peasants, to the smell +of the soil, of the villages and of the atmosphere itself. + +I love my house in which I grew up. From my windows I can see the Seine +which flows by the side of my garden, on the other side of the road, +almost through my grounds, the great and wide Seine which goes to Rouen +and Havre, and which is covered with boats passing to and fro. + +On the left, down yonder, lies Rouen, that large town with its blue +roofs, under its pointed Gothic towers. They are innumerable, delicate +or broad, dominated by the spire of the cathedral, and full of bells +which sound through the blue air on fine mornings, sending their sweet +and distant iron clang to me; their metallic sound which the breeze +wafts in my direction, now stronger and now weaker, according as the +wind is stronger or lighter. + +What a delicious morning it was! + +About eleven o’clock, a long line of boats drawn by a steam tug, as big +as a fly, and which scarcely puffed while emitting its thick smoke, +passed my gate. + +After two English schooners, whose red flag fluttered toward the sky, +there came a magnificent Brazilian three-master; it was perfectly white +and wonderfully clean and shining. I saluted it, I hardly know why, +except that the sight of the vessel gave me great pleasure. + +_May 12th._ I have had a slight feverish attack for the last few days, +and I feel ill, or rather I feel low-spirited. + +Whence do these mysterious influences come, which change our happiness +into discouragement, and our self-confidence into diffidence? One might +almost say that the air, the invisible air, is full of unknowable +Forces, whose mysterious presence we have to endure. I wake up in the +best spirits, with an inclination to sing in my throat. Why? I go down +by the side of the water, and suddenly, after walking a short distance, +I return home wretched, as if some misfortune were awaiting me there. +Why? Is it a cold shiver which, passing over my skin, has upset my +nerves and given me low spirits? Is it the form of the clouds, or the +color of the sky, or the color of the surrounding objects which is so +changeable, which have troubled my thoughts as they passed before my +eyes? Who can tell? Everything that surrounds us, everything that we +see without looking at it, everything that we touch without knowing it, +everything that we handle without feeling it, all that we meet without +clearly distinguishing it, has a rapid, surprising and inexplicable +effect upon us and upon our organs, and through them on our ideas and +on our heart itself. + +How profound that mystery of the Invisible is! We cannot fathom it +with our miserable senses, with our eyes which are unable to perceive +what is either too small or too great, too near to, or too far from +us; neither the inhabitants of a star nor of a drop of water ... with +our ears that deceive us, for they transmit to us the vibrations of +the air in sonorous notes. They are fairies who work the miracle of +changing that movement into noise, and by that metamorphosis give birth +to music, which makes the mute agitation of nature musical ... with our +sense of smell which is smaller than that of a dog ... with our sense +of taste which can scarcely distinguish the age of a wine! + +Oh! If we only had other organs which would work other miracles in our +favor, what a number of fresh things we might discover around us! + +_May 16th._ I am ill, decidedly! I was so well last month! I am +feverish, horribly feverish, or rather I am in a state of feverish +enervation, which makes my mind suffer as much as my body. I have +without ceasing that horrible sensation of some danger threatening me, +that apprehension of some coming misfortune or of approaching death, +that presentiment which is, no doubt, an attack of some illness which +is still unknown, which germinates in the flesh and in the blood. + +_May 18th._ I have just come from consulting my medical man, for I +could no longer get any sleep. He found that my pulse was high, my eyes +dilated, my nerves highly strung, but no alarming symptoms. I must have +a course of shower-baths and of bromide of potassium. + +_May 25th._ No change! My state is really very peculiar. As the evening +comes on, an incomprehensible feeling of disquietude seizes me, just as +if night concealed some terrible menace toward me. I dine quickly, and +then try to read, but I do not understand the words, and can scarcely +distinguish the letters. Then I walk up and down my drawing-room, +oppressed by a feeling of confused and irresistible fear, the fear of +sleep and fear of my bed. + +About ten o’clock I go up to my room. As soon as I have got in I double +lock, and bolt it: I am frightened--of what? Up till the present time +I have been frightened of nothing--I open my cupboards, and look under +my bed; I listen--I listen--to what? How strange it is that a simple +feeling of discomfort, impeded or heightened circulation, perhaps +the irritation of a nervous thread, a slight congestion, a small +disturbance in the imperfect and delicate functions of our living +machinery, can turn the most lighthearted of men into a melancholy one, +and make a coward of the bravest! Then, I go to bed, and I wait for +sleep as a man might wait for the executioner. I wait for its coming +with dread, and my heart beats and my legs tremble, while my whole +body shivers beneath the warmth of the bedclothes, until the moment +when I suddenly fall asleep, as one would throw oneself into a pool of +stagnant water in order to drown oneself. I do not feel coming over me, +as I used to do formerly, this perfidious sleep which is close to me +and watching me, which is going to seize me by the head, to close my +eyes and annihilate me. + +I sleep--a long time--two or three hours perhaps--then a dream--no--a +nightmare lays hold on me. I feel that I am in bed and asleep--I +feel it and I know it--and I feel also that somebody is coming close +to me, is looking at me, touching me, is getting on to my bed, is +kneeling on my chest, is taking my neck between his hands and squeezing +it--squeezing it with all his might in order to strangle me. + +I struggle, bound by that terrible powerlessness which paralyzes us in +our dreams; I try to cry out--but I cannot; I want to move--I cannot; I +try, with the most violent efforts and out of breath, to turn over and +throw off this being which is crushing and suffocating me--I cannot! + +And then, suddenly, I wake up, shaken and bathed in perspiration; I +light a candle and find that I am alone, and after that crisis, which +occurs every night, I at length fall asleep and slumber tranquilly +till morning. + +_June 2d._ My state has grown worse. What is the matter with me? The +bromide does me no good, and the shower-baths have no effect whatever. +Sometimes, in order to tire myself out, though I am fatigued enough +already, I go for a walk in the forest of Roumare. I used to think at +first that the fresh light and soft air, impregnated with the odor of +herbs and leaves, would instill new blood into my veins and impart +fresh energy to my heart. I turned into a broad ride in the wood, and +then I turned toward La Bouille, through a narrow path, between two +rows of exceedingly tall trees, which placed a thick, green, almost +black roof between the sky and me. + +A sudden shiver ran through me, not a cold shiver, but a shiver of +agony, and so I hastened my steps, uneasy at being alone in the wood, +frightened stupidly and without reason, at the profound solitude. +Suddenly it seemed to me as if I were being followed, that somebody was +walking at my heels, close, quite close to me, near enough to touch me. + +I turned round suddenly, but I was alone. I saw nothing behind me +except the straight, broad ride, empty and bordered by high trees, +horribly empty; on the other side it also extended until it was lost in +the distance, and looked just the same, terrible. + +I closed my eyes. Why? And then I began to turn round on one heel very +quickly, just like a top. I nearly fell down, and opened my eyes; the +trees were dancing round me and the earth heaved; I was obliged to sit +down. Then, ah! I no longer remembered how I had come! What a strange +idea! What a strange, strange idea! I did not the least know. I started +off to the right, and got back into the avenue which had led me into +the middle of the forest. + +_June 3d._ I have had a terrible night. I shall go away for a few +weeks, for no doubt a journey will set me up again. + +_July 2d._ I have come back, quite cured, and have had a most +delightful trip into the bargain. I have been to Mont Saint-Michel, +which I had not seen before. + +What a sight, when one arrives as I did, at Avranches toward the end +of the day! The town stands on a hill, and I was taken into the public +garden at the extremity of the town. I uttered a cry of astonishment. +An extraordinary large bay lay extended before me, as far as my eyes +could reach, between two hills which were lost to sight in the mist; +and in the middle of this immense yellow bay, under a clear, golden +sky, a peculiar hill rose up, sombre and pointed in the midst of the +sand. The sun had just disappeared, and under the still flaming sky the +outline of that fantastic rock stood out, which bears on its summit a +fantastic monument. + +At daybreak I went to it. The tide was low as it had been the night +before, and I saw that wonderful abbey rise up before me as I +approached it. After several hours’ walking, I reached the enormous +mass of rocks which supports the little town, dominated by the great +church. Having climbed the steep and narrow street, I entered the most +wonderful Gothic building that has ever been built to God on earth, as +large as a town, full of low rooms which seem buried beneath vaulted +roofs, and lofty galleries supported by delicate columns. + +I entered this gigantic granite jewel which is as light as a bit of +lace, covered with towers, with slender belfries to which spiral +staircases ascend, and which raise their strange heads that bristle +with chimeras, with devils, with fantastic animals, with monstrous +flowers, and which are joined together by finely carved arches, to the +blue sky by day, and to the black sky by night. + +When I had reached the summit, I said to the monk who accompanied me: +“Father, how happy you must be here!” And he replied: “It is very +windy, Monsieur”; and so we began to talk while watching the rising +tide, which ran over the sand and covered it with a steel cuirass. + +And then the monk told me stories, all the old stories belonging to the +place, legends, nothing but legends. + +One of them struck me forcibly. The country people, those belonging +to the Mornet, declare that at night one can hear talking going on in +the sand, and then that one hears two goats bleat, one with a strong, +the other with a weak voice. Incredulous people declare that it is +nothing but the cry of the sea birds, which occasionally resembles +bleatings, and occasionally human lamentations; but belated fishermen +swear that they have met an old shepherd, whose head, which is covered +by his cloak, they can never see, wandering on the downs, between two +tides, round the little town placed so far out of the world, and who +is guiding and walking before them, a he-goat with a man’s face, and +a she-goat with a woman’s face, and both of them with white hair; +and talking incessantly, quarrelling in a strange language, and then +suddenly ceasing to talk in order to bleat with all their might. + +“Do you believe it?” I asked the monk. “I scarcely know,” he replied, +and I continued: “If there are other beings besides ourselves on this +earth, how comes it that we have not known it for so long a time, or +why have you not seen them? How is it that I have not seen them?” He +replied: “Do we see the hundred thousandth part of what exists? Look +here; there is the wind, which is the strongest force in nature, which +knocks down men, and blows down buildings, uproots trees, raises the +sea into mountains of water; destroys cliffs and casts great ships onto +the breakers; the wind which kills, which whistles, which sighs, which +roars--have you ever seen it, and can you see it? It exists for all +that, however.” + +I was silent before this simple reasoning. The man was a philosopher, +or perhaps a fool; I could not say which exactly, so I held my tongue. +What he had said, had often been in my own thoughts. + +_July 3d._ I have slept badly; certainly there is some feverish +influence here, for my coachman is suffering in the same way as I am. +When I went back home yesterday, I noticed his singular paleness, and I +asked him: “What is the matter with you, Jean?” “The matter is that I +never get any rest, and my nights devour my days. Since your departure, +monsieur, there has been a spell over me.” + +However, the other servants are all well, but I am very frightened of +having another attack, myself. + +_July 4th._ I am decidedly taken again; for my old nightmares have +returned. Last night I felt somebody leaning on me who was sucking my +life from between my lips with his mouth. Yes, he was sucking it out of +my neck, like a leech would have done. Then he got up, satiated, and I +woke up, so beaten, crushed and annihilated that I could not move. If +this continues for a few days, I shall certainly go away again. + +_July 5th._ Have I lost my reason? What has happened? What I saw last +night is so strange that my head wanders when I think of it! + +As I do now every evening, I had locked my door, and then, being +thirsty, I drank half a glass of water, and I accidentally noticed that +the water bottle was full up to the cut-glass stopper. + +Then I went to bed and fell into one of my terrible sleeps, from which +I was aroused in about two hours by a still more terrible shock. + +Picture to yourself a sleeping man who is being murdered and who wakes +up with a knife in his chest, and who is rattling in his throat, +covered with blood, and who can no longer breathe, and is going to die, +and does not understand anything at all about it--there it is. + +Having recovered my senses, I was thirsty again, so I lit a candle +and went to the table on which my water bottle was. I lifted it up +and tilted it over my glass, but nothing came out. It was empty! It +was completely empty! At first I could not understand it at all, and +then suddenly I was seized by such a terrible feeling that I had to +sit down, or rather I fell into a chair! Then I sprang up with a bound +to look about me, and then I sat down again, overcome by astonishment +and fear, in front of the transparent crystal bottle! I looked at it +with fixed eyes, trying to conjecture, and my hands trembled! Somebody +had drunk the water, but who? I? I without any doubt. It could surely +only be I? In that case I was a somnambulist, I lived, without knowing +it, that double mysterious life which makes us doubt whether there are +not two beings in us, or whether a strange, unknowable and invisible +being does not at such moments, when our soul is in a state of torpor, +animate our captive body which obeys this other being, as it does us +ourselves, and more than it does ourselves. + +Oh! Who will understand my horrible agony? Who will understand the +emotion of a man who is sound in mind, wide awake, full of sound sense, +and who looks in horror at the remains of a little water that has +disappeared while he was asleep, through the glass of a water bottle? +And I remained there until it was daylight, without venturing to go to +bed again. + +_July 6th._ I am going mad. Again all the contents of my water bottle +have been drunk during the night--or rather, I have drunk it! + +But is it I? Is it I? Who could it be? Who? Oh! God! Am I going mad? +Who will save me? + +_July 10th._ I have just been through some surprising ordeals. +Decidedly I am mad! And yet!-- + +On July 6th, before going to bed, I put some wine, milk, water, +bread and strawberries on my table. Somebody drank--I drank--all the +water and a little of the milk, but neither the wine, bread nor the +strawberries were touched. + +On the seventh of July I renewed the same experiment, with the same +results, and on July 8th, I left out the water and the milk and nothing +was touched. + +Lastly, on July 9th I put only water and milk on my table, taking care +to wrap up the bottles in white muslin and to tie down the stoppers. +Then I rubbed my lips, my beard and my hands with pencil lead, and went +to bed. + +Irresistible sleep seized me, which was soon followed by a terrible +awakening. I had not moved, and my sheets were not marked. I rushed to +the table. The muslin round the bottles remained intact; I undid the +string, trembling with fear. All the water had been drunk, and so had +the milk! Ah! Great God!-- + +I must start for Paris immediately. + +_July 12th._ Paris. I must have lost my head during the last few days! +I must be the plaything of my enervated imagination, unless I am really +a somnambulist, or that I have been brought under the power of one +of those influences which have been proved to exist, but which have +hitherto been inexplicable, which are called suggestions. In any case, +my mental state bordered on madness, and twenty-four hours of Paris +sufficed to restore me to my equilibrium. + +Yesterday after doing some business and paying some visits which +instilled fresh and invigorating mental air into me, I wound up my +evening at the _Théâtre Français_. A play by Alexandre Dumas the +Younger was being acted, and his active and powerful mind completed my +cure. Certainly solitude is dangerous for active minds. We require men +who can think and can talk, around us. When we are alone for a long +time we people space with phantoms. + +I returned along the boulevards to my hotel in excellent spirits. Amid +the jostling of the crowd I thought, not without irony, of my terrors +and surmises of the previous week, because I believed, yes, I believed, +that an invisible being lived beneath my roof. How weak our head is, +and how quickly it is terrified and goes astray, as soon as we are +struck by a small, incomprehensible fact. + +Instead of concluding with these simple words: “I do not understand +because the cause escapes me,” we immediately imagine terrible +mysteries and supernatural powers. + +_July 14th._ Fête of the Republic. I walked through the streets, and +the crackers and flags amused me like a child. Still it is very foolish +to be merry on a fixed date, by a Government decree. The populace is +an imbecile flock of sheep, now steadily patient, and now in ferocious +revolt. Say to it: “Amuse yourself,” and it amuses itself. Say to it: +“Go and fight with your neighbor,” and it goes and fights. Say to it: +“Vote for the Emperor,” and it votes for the Emperor, and then say to +it: “Vote for the Republic,” and it votes for the Republic. + +Those who direct it are also stupid; but instead of obeying men they +obey principles, which can only be stupid, sterile, and false, for the +very reason that they are principles, that is to say, ideas which are +considered as certain and unchangeable, in this world where one is +certain of nothing, since light is an illusion and noise is an illusion. + +_July 16th._ I saw some things yesterday that troubled me very much. + +I was dining at my cousin’s Madame Sablé, whose husband is colonel of +the 76th Chasseurs at Limoges. There were two young women there, one of +whom had married a medical man, Dr. Parent, who devotes himself a great +deal to nervous diseases and the extraordinary manifestations to which +at this moment experiments in hypnotism and suggestion give rise. + +He related to us at some length, the enormous results obtained by +English scientists and the doctors of the medical school at Nancy, and +the facts which he adduced appeared to me so strange, that I declared +that I was altogether incredulous. + +“We are,” he declared, “on the point of discovering one of the most +important secrets of nature, I mean to say, one of its most important +secrets on this earth, for there are certainly some which are of a +different kind of importance up in the stars, yonder. Ever since man +has thought, since he has been able to express and write down his +thoughts, he has felt himself close to a mystery which is impenetrable +to his coarse and imperfect senses, and he endeavors to supplement the +want of power of his organs by the efforts of his intellect. As long as +that intellect still remained in its elementary stage, this intercourse +with invisible spirits assumed forms which were commonplace though +terrifying. Thence sprang the popular belief in the supernatural, the +legends of wandering spirits, of fairies, of gnomes, ghosts, I might +even say the legend of God, for our conceptions of the workman-creator, +from whatever religion they may have come down to us, are certainly the +most mediocre, the stupidest and the most unacceptable inventions that +ever sprang from the frightened brain of any human creatures. Nothing +is truer than what Voltaire says: ‘God made man in His own image, but +man has certainly paid Him back again.’ + +“But for rather more than a century, men seem to have had a +presentiment of something new. Mesmer and some others have put us on an +unexpected track, and especially within the last two or three years, we +have arrived at really surprising results.” + +My cousin, who is also very incredulous, smiled, and Dr. Parent said to +her: “Would you like me to try and send you to sleep, Madame?” “Yes, +certainly.” + +She sat down in an easy-chair, and he began to look at her fixedly, so +as to fascinate her. I suddenly felt myself somewhat uncomfortable, +with a beating heart and a choking feeling in my throat. I saw that +Madame Sablé’s eyes were growing heavy, her mouth twitched and her +bosom heaved, and at the end of ten minutes she was asleep. + +“Stand behind her,” the doctor said to me, and so I took a seat behind +her. He put a visiting card into her hands, and said to her: “This is +a looking-glass; what do you see in it?” And she replied: “I see my +cousin.” “What is he doing?” “He is twisting his moustache.” “And now?” +“He is taking a photograph out of his pocket.” “Whose photograph is +it?” “His own.” + +That was true, and that photograph had been given me that same evening +at the hotel. + +“What is his attitude in this portrait?” “He is standing up with his +hat in his hand.” + +So she saw on that card, on that piece of white pasteboard, as if she +had seen it in a looking-glass. + +The young women were frightened, and exclaimed: “That is quite enough! +Quite, quite enough!” + +But the doctor said to her authoritatively: “You will get up at eight +o’clock to-morrow morning; then you will go and call on your cousin +at his hotel and ask him to lend you five thousand francs which your +husband demands of you, and which he will ask for when he sets out on +his coming journey.” + +Then he woke her up. + +On returning to my hotel, I thought over this curious _séance_ and I +was assailed by doubts, not as to my cousin’s absolute and undoubted +good faith, for I had known her as well as if she had been my own +sister ever since she was a child, but as to a possible trick on the +doctor’s part. Had not he, perhaps, kept a glass hidden in his hand, +which he showed to the young woman in her sleep, at the same time as +he did the card? Professional conjurers do things which are just as +singular. + +So I went home and to bed, and this morning, at about half past eight, +I was awakened by my footman, who said to me: “Madame Sablé has asked +to see you immediately, Monsieur,” so I dressed hastily and went to her. + +She sat down in some agitation, with her eyes on the floor, and without +raising her veil she said to me: “My dear cousin, I am going to ask a +great favor of you.” “What is it, cousin?” “I do not like to tell you, +and yet I must. I am in absolute want of five thousand francs.” “What, +you?” “Yes, I, or rather my husband, who has asked me to procure them +for him.” + +I was so stupefied that I stammered out my answers. I asked myself +whether she had not really been making fun of me with Doctor Parent, +if it were not merely a very well-acted farce which had been got +up beforehand. On looking at her attentively, however, my doubts +disappeared. She was trembling with grief, so painful was this step to +her, and I was sure that her throat was full of sobs. + +I knew that she was very rich and so I continued: “What! Has not your +husband five thousand francs at his disposal! Come, think. Are you sure +that he commissioned you to ask me for them?” + +She hesitated for a few seconds, as if she were making a great effort +to search her memory, and then she replied: “Yes ... yes, I am quite +sure of it.” “He has written to you?” + +She hesitated again and reflected, and I guessed the torture of her +thoughts. She did not know. She only knew that she was to borrow five +thousand francs of me for her husband. So she told a lie. “Yes, he has +written to me.” “When, pray? You did not mention it to me yesterday.” +“I received his letter this morning.” “Can you show it me?” “No; no +... no ... it contained private matters ... things too personal to +ourselves.... I burnt it.” “So your husband runs into debt?” + +She hesitated again, and then murmured: “I do not know.” Thereupon I +said bluntly: “I have not five thousand francs at my disposal at this +moment, my dear cousin.” + +She uttered a kind of cry as if she were in pain and said: “Oh! oh! I +beseech you, I beseech you to get them for me....” + +She got excited and clasped her hands as if she were praying to me! I +heard her voice change its tone; she wept and stammered, harassed and +dominated by the irresistible order that she had received. + +“Oh! oh! I beg you to ... if you knew what I am suffering.... I want +them to-day.” + +I had pity on her: “You shall have them by and by, I swear to you.” +“Oh! thank you! thank you! How kind you are!” + +I continued: “Do you remember what took place at your house last +night?” “Yes.” “Do you remember that Doctor Parent sent you to sleep?” +“Yes.” “Oh! Very well then; he ordered you to come to me this morning +to borrow five thousand francs, and at this moment you are obeying that +suggestion.” + +She considered for a few moments, and then replied: “But as it is my +husband who wants them....” + +For a whole hour I tried to convince her, but could not succeed, and +when she had gone I went to the doctor. He was just going out, and he +listened to me with a smile, and said: “Do you believe now?” “Yes, I +cannot help it.” “Let us go to your cousin’s.” + +She was already dozing on a couch, overcome with fatigue. The doctor +felt her pulse, looked at her for some time with one hand raised toward +her eyes which she closed by degrees under the irresistible power of +this influence, and when she was asleep, he said: + +“Your husband does not require the five thousand francs any longer! You +must, therefore, forget that you asked your cousin to lend them to you, +and, if he speaks to you about it, you will not understand him.” + +Then he woke her up, and I took out a pocketbook and said: “Here is +what you asked me for this morning, my dear cousin.” But she was so +surprised that I did not venture to persist; nevertheless, I tried to +recall the circumstance to her, but she denied it vigorously, thought +that I was making fun of her, and in the end very nearly lost her +temper. + + * * * * * + +There! I have just come back, and I have not been able to eat my lunch, +for this experiment has altogether upset me. + +_July 19th._ Many people to whom I have told the adventure have laughed +at me. I no longer know what to think. The wise man says: Perhaps? + +_July 21st._ I dined at Bougival, and then I spent the evening at a +boatmen’s ball. Decidedly everything depends on place and surroundings. +It would be the height of folly to believe in the supernatural on the +_île de la Grenouillière_[1] ... but on the top of Mont Saint-Michel? +... and in India? We are terribly under the influence of our +surroundings. I shall return home next week. + +[1] Frog Island. + +_July 30th._ I came back to my own house yesterday. Everything is going +on well. + +_August 2d._ Nothing fresh; it is splendid weather, and I spend my days +in watching the Seine flow past. + +_August 4th._ Quarrels among my servants. They declare that the glasses +are broken in the cupboards at night. The footman accuses the cook, who +accuses the needlewoman, who accuses the other two. Who is the culprit? +A clever person, to be able to tell. + +_August 6th._ This time I am not mad. I have seen ... I have seen ... I +have seen!... I can doubt no longer ... I have seen it!... + +I was walking at two o’clock among my rose trees, in the full sunlight +... in the walk bordered by autumn roses which are beginning to fall. +As I stopped to look at a _Géant de Bataille_, which had three splendid +blooms, I distinctly saw the stalks of one of the roses bend, close to +me, as if an invisible hand had bent it, and then break, as if that +hand had picked it! Then the flower raised itself, following the curve +a hand would have described in carrying it toward the mouth, and it +remained suspended in the transparent air, all alone and motionless, a +terrible red spot, three yards from my eyes. In desperation I rushed +at it to take it! I found nothing; it had disappeared. Then I was +seized with furious rage against myself, for it is not allowable for a +reasonable and serious man to have such hallucinations. + +But what is an hallucination? I turned round to look for the stalk, +and I found it immediately under the bush, freshly broken, between two +other roses which remained on the branch, and I returned home then, +with a much disturbed mind; for I am certain now, as certain as I am +of the alternation of day and night, that there exists close to me +an invisible being that lives on milk and on water, which can touch +objects, take them and change their places; which is, consequently, +endowed with a material nature, although it is impossible to our +senses, and which lives as I do, under my roof.... + +_August 7th._ I slept tranquilly. He drank the water out of my +decanter, but did not disturb my sleep. + +I ask myself whether I am mad. As I was walking just now in the sun +by the riverside, doubts as to my own sanity arose in me; not vague +doubts such as I have had hitherto, but precise and absolute doubts. +I have seen mad people, and I have known some who have been quite +intelligent, lucid, even clear-sighted in every concern of life, except +on one point. They spoke clearly, readily, profoundly, on everything, +when suddenly their thoughts struck upon the breakers of their madness +and broke to pieces there, and were dispersed and foundered in that +furious and terrible sea, full of bounding waves, fogs and squalls, +which is called _madness_. + +I certainly should think that I was mad, absolutely mad, if I were +not conscious, did not perfectly know my state, if I did fathom it +by analyzing it with the most complete lucidity. I should, in fact, +be a reasonable man who was laboring under an hallucination. Some +unknown disturbance must have been excited in my brain, one of those +disturbances which physiologists of the present day try to note and fix +precisely, and that disturbance must have caused a profound gulf in my +mind and in the order and logic of my ideas. Similar phenomena occur +in the dreams which lead us through the most unlikely phantasmagoria, +without causing us any surprise, because our verifying apparatus and +our sense of control have gone to sleep, while our imaginative faculty +wakes and works. Is it not possible that one of the imperceptible keys +of the cerebral finger-board has been paralyzed in me? Some men lose +the recollection of proper names, or of verbs, or of numbers, or merely +of dates, in consequence of the accident. The localization of all the +particles of thought have been proved nowadays; what then would there +be surprising in the fact that my faculty controlling the uncertain +reality of my hallucinations should be destroyed for the time being! + +I thought of all this as I walked by the side of the water. The sun +was shining brightly on the river and made earth delightful, while it +filled my looks with love for life, for the swallows, whose agility is +always delightful in my eyes, for the plants by the riverside, whose +rustling is a pleasure to my ears. + +By degrees, however, an inexplicable feeling of discomfort seized me. +It seemed to me as if some unknown force were numbing and stopping me, +were preventing me from going farther and were calling me back. I felt +that painful wish to return which oppresses you when you have left a +beloved invalid at home, and when you are seized by a presentiment that +he is worse. + +I, therefore, returned in spite of myself, feeling certain that I +should find some bad news awaiting me, a letter or a telegram. There +was nothing, however, and I was more surprised and uneasy than if I had +had another fantastic vision. + +_August 8th._ I spent a terrible evening yesterday. He does not show +himself any more, but I feel that he is near me, watching me, looking +at me, penetrating me, dominating me, and more redoubtable when he +hides himself thus than if he were to manifest his constant and +invisible presence by supernatural phenomena. However, I slept. + +_August 9th._ Nothing; but I am afraid. + +_August 10th._ Nothing; what will happen tomorrow? + +_August 11th._ Still nothing; I cannot stop at home with this fear +hanging over me and these thoughts in my mind; I shall go away. + +_August 12th._ Ten o’clock at night. All day long I have been trying to +get away, and have not been able. I wished to accomplish this simple +and easy act of liberty--go out--get into my carriage in order to go to +Rouen--and I have not been able to do it. What is the reason? + +_August 13th._ When one is attacked by certain maladies, all the +springs of our physical being appear to be broken, all our energies +destroyed, all our muscles relaxed, our bones to have become as soft as +our flesh, and our blood as liquid as water. I am experiencing that in +my moral being in a strange and distressing manner. I have no longer +any strength, any courage, any self-control, nor even any power to set +my own will in motion. I have no power left to _will_ anything, but +someone does it for me and I obey. + +_August 14th._ I am lost! Somebody possesses my soul and governs it! +Somebody orders all my acts, all my movements, all my thoughts. I am +no longer anything in myself, nothing except an enslaved and terrified +spectator of all the things which I do. I wish to go out; I cannot. He +does not wish to, and so I remain, trembling and distracted, in the +armchair in which he keeps me sitting. I merely wish to get up and +to rouse myself, so as to think that I am still master of myself: I +cannot! I am riveted to my chair, and my chair adheres to the ground in +such a manner that no force could move us. + +Then suddenly, I must, I must go to the bottom of my garden to pick +some strawberries and eat them, and I go there. I pick the strawberries +and I eat them! Oh! my God! my God! Is there a God? If there be one, +deliver me! save me! succor me! Pardon! Pity! Mercy! Save me! Oh! what +sufferings! what torture! what horror! + +_August 15th._ Certainly this is the way in which my poor cousin was +possessed and swayed, when she came to borrow five thousand francs of +me. She was under the power of a strange will which had entered into +her, like another soul, like another parasitic and ruling soul. Is the +world coming to an end? + +But who is he, this invisible being that rules me? This unknowable +being, this rover of a supernatural race? + +Invisible beings exist, then! How is it then that since the beginning +of the world they have never manifested themselves in such a manner +precisely as they do to me? I have never read anything which resembles +what goes on in my house. Oh! If I could only leave it, if I could +only go away and flee, so as never to return, I should be saved; but I +cannot. + +_August 16th._ I managed to escape to-day for two hours, like a +prisoner who finds the door of his dungeon accidentally open. I +suddenly felt that I was free and that he was far away, and so I gave +orders to put the horses in as quickly as possible, and I drove to +Rouen. Oh! How delightful to be able to say to a man who obeyed you: +“Go to Rouen!” + +I made him pull up before the library, and I begged them to lend me +Dr. Herrmann Herestauss’s treatise on the unknown inhabitants of the +ancient and modern world. + +Then, as I was getting into my carriage, I intended to say: “To the +railway station!” but instead of this I shouted--I did not say, but I +shouted--in such a loud voice that all the passers-by turned round: +“Home!” and I fell back onto the cushion of my carriage, overcome by +mental agony. He had found me out and regained possession of me. + +_August 17th._ Oh! What a night! what a night! And yet it seems to +me that I ought to rejoice. I read until one o’clock in the morning! +Herestauss, Doctor of Philosophy and Theogony, wrote the history and +the manifestation of all those invisible beings which hover around man, +or of whom he dreams. He describes their origin, their domains, their +power; but none of them resembles the one which haunts me. One might +say that man, ever since he has thought, has had a foreboding of, and +feared a new being, stronger than himself, his successor in this world, +and that, feeling him near, and not being able to foretell the nature +of that master, he has, in his terror, created the whole race of hidden +beings, of vague phantoms born of fear. + +Having, therefore, read until one o’clock in the morning, I went and +sat down at the open window, in order to cool my forehead and my +thoughts, in the calm night air. It was very pleasant and warm! How I +should have enjoyed such a night formerly! + +There was no moon, but the stars darted out their rays in the dark +heavens. Who inhabits those worlds? What forms, what living beings, +what animals are there yonder? What do those who are thinkers in those +distant worlds know more than we do? What can they do more than we +can? What do they see which we do not know? Will not one of them, some +day or other, traversing space, appear on our earth to conquer it, just +as the Norsemen formerly crossed the sea in order to subjugate nations +more feeble than themselves? + +We are so weak, so unarmed, so ignorant, so small, we who live on this +particle of mud which turns round in a drop of water. + +I fell asleep, dreaming this in the cool night air, and then, having +slept for about three quarters of an hour, I opened my eyes without +moving, awakened by I know not what confused and strange sensation. +At first I saw nothing, and then suddenly it appeared to me as if a +page of a book which had remained open on my table, turned over of +its own accord. Not a breath of air had come in at my window, and I +was surprised and waited. In about four minutes, I saw, I saw, yes +I saw with my own eyes another page lift itself up and fall down on +the others, as if a finger had turned it over. My armchair was empty, +appeared empty, but I knew that he was there, he, and sitting in my +place, and that he was reading. With a furious bound, the bound of an +enraged wild beast that wishes to disembowel its tamer, I crossed my +room to seize him, to strangle him, to kill him!... But before I could +reach it, my chair fell over as if somebody had run away from me ... +my table rocked, my lamp fell and went out, and my window closed as +if some thief had been surprised and had fled out into the night, +shutting it behind him. + +So he had run away: he had been afraid; he, afraid of me! + +So ... so ... to-morrow ... or later ... some day or other ... I should +be able to hold him in my clutches and crush him against the ground! Do +not dogs occasionally bite and strangle their masters? + +_August 18th._ I have been thinking the whole day long. Oh! yes, I will +obey him, follow his impulses, fulfill all his wishes, show myself +humble, submissive, a coward. He is the stronger; but an hour will +come.... + +_August 19th._ I know, ... I know ... I know all! I have just read the +following in the _Revue de Monde Scientifique_: “A curious piece of +news comes to us from Rio de Janeiro. Madness, an epidemic of madness, +which may be compared to that contagious madness which attacked the +people of Europe in the Middle Ages, is at this moment raging in the +Province of San-Paulo. The frightened inhabitants are leaving their +houses, deserting their villages, abandoning their land, saying that +they are pursued, possessed, governed like human cattle by invisible, +though tangible beings, a species of vampire, which feed on their life +while they are asleep, and who, besides, drink water and milk without +appearing to touch any other nourishment. + +“Professor Dom Pedro Henriques, accompanied by several medical savants, +has gone to the Province of San-Paulo, in order to study the origin +and the manifestations of this surprising madness on the spot, and to +propose such measures to the Emperor as may appear to him to be most +fitted to restore the mad population to reason.” + +Ah! Ah! I remember now that fine Brazilian three-master which passed in +front of my windows as it was going up the Seine, on the 8th of last +May! I thought it looked so pretty, so white and bright! That Being was +on board of her, coming from there, where its race sprang from. And it +saw me! It saw my house which was also white, and it sprang from the +ship onto the land. Oh! Good heavens! + +Now I know, I can divine. The reign of man is over, and he has come. +He whom disquieted priests exorcised, whom sorcerers evoked on dark +nights, without yet seeing him appear, to whom the presentiments of the +transient masters of the world lent all the monstrous or graceful forms +of gnomes, spirits, genii, fairies, and familiar spirits. After the +coarse conceptions of primitive fear, more clear-sighted men foresaw +it more clearly. Mesmer divined him, and ten years ago physicians +accurately discovered the nature of his power, even before he exercised +it himself. They played with that weapon of their new Lord, the sway of +a mysterious will over the human soul, which had become enslaved. They +called it magnetism, hypnotism, suggestion ... what do I know? I have +seen them amusing themselves like impudent children with this horrible +power! Woe to us! Woe to man! He has come, the ... the ... what does +he call himself ... the ... I fancy that he is shouting out his name +to me and I do not hear him ... the ... yes ... he is shouting it out +... I am listening ... I cannot ... repeat ... it ... Horla ... I have +heard ... the Horla ... it is he ... the Horla ... he has come!... + +Ah! the vulture has eaten the pigeon, the wolf has eaten the lamb; the +lion has devoured the buffalo with sharp horns; man has killed the lion +with an arrow, with a sword, with gunpowder; but the Horla will make +of man what we have made of the horse and of the ox: his chattel, his +slave and his food, by the mere power of his will. Woe to us! + +But, nevertheless, the animal sometimes revolts and kills the man who +has subjugated it.... I should also like ... I shall be able to ... but +I must know him, touch him, see him! Learned men say that beasts’ eyes, +as they differ from ours, do not distinguish like ours do.... And my +eye cannot distinguish this newcomer who is oppressing me. + +Why? Oh! Now I remember the words of the monk at Mont Saint-Michel: +“Can we see the hundred-thousandth part of what exists? Look here; +there is the wind which is the strongest force in nature, which knocks +down men, and blows down buildings, uproots trees, raises the sea into +mountains of water, destroys cliffs and casts great ships onto the +breakers; the wind which kills, which whistles, which sighs, which +roars--have you ever seen it, and can you see it? It exists for all +that, however!” + +And I went on thinking: my eyes are so weak, so imperfect, that they +do not even distinguish hard bodies, if they are as transparent as +glass!... If a glass without tinfoil behind it were to bar my way, I +should run into it, just as a bird which has flown into a room breaks +its head against the window panes. A thousand things, moreover, deceive +him and lead him astray. How should it then be surprising that he +cannot perceive a fresh body which is traversed by the light? + +A new being! Why not? It was assuredly bound to come! Why should we be +the last? We do not distinguish it, like all the others created before +us. The reason is, that its nature is more perfect, its body finer and +more finished than ours, that ours is so weak, so awkwardly conceived, +encumbered with organs that are always tired, always on the strain like +locks that are too complicated, which lives like a plant and like a +beast, nourishing itself with difficulty on air, herbs and flesh, an +animal machine which is a prey to maladies, to malformations, to decay; +broken-winded, badly regulated, simple and eccentric, ingeniously and +badly made, a coarse and a delicate work, the outline of a being which +might become intelligent and grand. + +We are only a few, so few in this world, from the oyster up to man. Why +should there not be one more, when once that period is accomplished +which separates the successive apparitions from all the different +species? + +Why not one more? Why not, also, other trees with immense, splendid +flowers, perfuming whole regions? Why not other elements besides +fire, air, earth and water? There are four, only four, those nursing +fathers of various beings! What a pity! Why are they not forty, four +hundred, four thousand! How poor everything is, how mean and wretched! +grudgingly given, dryly invented, clumsily made! Ah! the elephant and +the hippopotamus, what grace! And the camel, what elegance! + +But, the butterfly you will say, a flying flower! I dream of one that +should be as large as a hundred worlds, with wings whose shape, beauty, +colors, and motion I cannot even express. But I see it ... it flutters +from star to star, refreshing them and perfuming them with the light +and harmonious breath of its flight!... And the people up there look at +it as it passes in an ecstasy of delight!... + +What is the matter with me? It is he, the Horla who haunts me, and who +makes me think of these foolish things! He is within me, he is becoming +my soul; I shall kill him! + +_August 19th._ I shall kill him. I have seen him! Yesterday I sat down +at my table and pretended to write very assiduously. I knew quite well +that he would come prowling round me, quite close to me, so close that +I might perhaps be able to touch him, to seize him. And then! ... then +I should have the strength of desperation; I should have my hands, my +knees, my chest, my forehead, my teeth to strangle him, to crush him, +to bite him, to tear him to pieces. And I watched for him with all my +over-excited organs. + +I had lighted my two lamps and the eight wax candles on my mantelpiece, +as if by this light I could have discovered him. + +My bed, my old oak bed with its columns, was opposite to me; on my +right was the fireplace; on my left the door which was carefully +closed, after I had left it open for some time, in order to attract +him; behind me was a very high wardrobe with a looking-glass in it, +which served me to make my toilet every day, and in which I was in the +habit of looking at myself from head to foot every time I passed it. + +So I pretended to be writing in order to deceive him, for he also was +watching me, and suddenly I felt, I was certain that he was reading +over my shoulder, that he was there, almost touching my ear. + +I got up so quickly, with my hands extended, that I almost fell. Eh! +well?... It was as bright as at midday, but I did not see myself in +the glass!... It was empty, clear, profound, full of light! But my +figure was not reflected in it ... and I, I was opposite to it! I saw +the large, clear glass from top to bottom, and I looked at it with +unsteady eyes; and I did not dare to advance; I did not venture to make +a movement, nevertheless, feeling perfectly that he was there, but that +he would escape me again, he whose imperceptible body had absorbed my +reflection. + +How frightened I was! And then suddenly I began to see myself through a +mist in the depths of the looking-glass, in a mist as it were through +a sheet of water; and it seemed to me as if this water were flowing +slowly from left to right, and making my figure clearer every moment. +It was like the end of an eclipse. Whatever it was that hid me, did not +appear to possess any clearly defined outlines, but a sort of opaque +transparency, which gradually grew clearer. + +At last I was able to distinguish myself completely, as I do every day +when I looked at myself. + +I had seen it! And the horror of it remained with me and makes me +shudder even now. + +_August 20th._ How could I kill it, as I could not get hold of it? +Poison? But it would see me mix it with the water; and then, would our +poisons have any effect on its impalpable body? No ... no ... no doubt +about the matter.... Then?... then?... + +_August 21st._ I sent for a blacksmith from Rouen, and ordered iron +shutters of him for my room, such as some private hotels in Paris have +on the ground floor, for fear of thieves, and he is going to make me a +similar door as well. I have made myself out as a coward, but I do not +care about that!... + +_September 10th._ Rouen, Hotel Continental. It is done; ... it is done +... but is he dead? My mind is thoroughly upset by what I have seen. + +Well, then, yesterday the locksmith having put on the iron shutters and +door, I left everything open until midnight, although it was getting +cold. + +Suddenly I felt that he was there, and joy, mad joy, took possession of +me. I got up softly, and I walked to the right and left for some time, +so that he might not guess anything; then I took off my boots and put +on my slippers carelessly; then I fastened the iron shutters and going +back to the door quickly I double-locked it with a padlock, putting the +key into my pocket. + +Suddenly I noticed that he was moving restlessly round me, that in his +turn he was frightened and was ordering me to let him out. I nearly +yielded, though I did not yet, but putting my back to the door I half +opened it, just enough to allow me to go out backward, and as I am very +tall, my head touched the lintel. I was sure that he had not been able +to escape, and I shut him up quite alone, quite alone. What happiness! +I had him fast. Then I ran downstairs; in the drawing-room, which was +under my bedroom, I took the two lamps and I poured all the oil onto +the carpet, the furniture, everywhere; then I set fire to it and made +my escape, after having carefully double-locked the door. + +I went and hid myself at the bottom of the garden in a clump of laurel +bushes. How long it was! how long it was! Everything was dark, silent, +motionless, not a breath of air and not a star, but heavy banks of +clouds which one could not see, but which weighed, oh! so heavily on my +soul. + +I looked at my house and waited. How long it was! I already began to +think that the fire had gone out of its own accord, or that he had +extinguished it, when one of the lower windows gave way under the +violence of the flames, and a long, soft, caressing sheet of red flame +mounted up the white wall and kissed it as high as the roof. The light +fell onto the trees, the branches, and the leaves, and a shiver of +fear pervaded them also! The birds awoke; a dog began to howl, and it +seemed to me as if the day were breaking! Almost immediately two other +windows flew into fragments, and I saw that the whole of the lower part +of my house was nothing but a terrible furnace. But a cry, a horrible, +shrill, heartrending cry, a woman’s cry, sounded through the night, and +two garret windows were opened! I had forgotten the servants! I saw the +terrorstruck faces, and their frantically waving arms!... + +Then, overwhelmed with horror, I set off to run to the village, +shouting: “Help! help! fire! fire!” I met some people who were already +coming onto the scene, and I went back with them to see! + +By this time the house was nothing but a horrible and magnificent +funeral pile, a monstrous funeral pile which lit up the whole country, +a funeral pile where men were burning, and where he was burning also, +He, He, my prisoner, that new Being, the new master, the Horla! + +Suddenly the whole roof fell in between the walls, and a volcano of +flames darted up to the sky. Through all the windows which opened onto +that furnace I saw the flames darting, and I thought that he was there, +in that kiln, dead. + +Dead? perhaps?... His body? Was not his body, which was transparent, +indestructible by such means as would kill ours? + +If he was not dead?... Perhaps time alone has power over that Invisible +and Redoubtable Being. Why this transparent, unrecognizable body, this +body belonging to a spirit, if it also had to fear ills, infirmities +and premature destruction? + +Premature destruction? All human terror springs from that! After man +the Horla. After him who can die every day, at any hour, at any moment, +by any accident, he came who was only to die at his own proper hour and +minute, because he had touched the limits of his existence! + +No ... no ... without any doubt ... he is not dead. Then ... then ... I +suppose I must kill myself! + + [EDITOR’S NOTE. Students of this great genius among short story + writers contend that there is an autobiographical touch to “The + Horla.” De Maupassant had a haunting presentiment of going mad.] + + + + +THE MUMMY’S FOOT + +By THÉOPHILE GAUTIER + + +I had entered, in an idle mood, the shop of one of those curiosity +venders who are called _marchands de bric-à-brac_ in that Parisian +_argot_ which is so perfectly unintelligble elsewhere in France. + +You have doubtless glanced occasionally through the windows of some of +these shops, which have become so numerous now that it is fashionable +to buy antiquated furniture, and that every petty stock broker thinks +he must have his _chambre au moyen âge_. + +There is one thing there which clings alike to the shop of the dealer +in old iron, the ware-room of the tapestry maker, the laboratory of +the chemist, and the studio of the painter: in all those gloomy dens +where a furtive daylight filters in through the window-shutters the +most manifestly ancient thing is dust. The cobwebs are more authentic +than the guimp laces, and the old pear-tree furniture on exhibition is +actually younger than the mahogany which arrived but yesterday from +America. + +The warehouse of my bric-à-brac dealer was a veritable Capharnaum. +All ages and all nations seemed to have made their rendezvous there. +An Etruscan lamp of red clay stood upon a Boule cabinet, with ebony +panels, brightly striped by lines of inlaid brass; a duchess of the +court of Louis XV. nonchalantly extended her fawn-like feet under a +massive table of the time of Louis XIII., with heavy spiral supports of +oak, and carven designs of chimeras and foliage intermingled. + +Upon the denticulated shelves of several sideboards glittered immense +Japanese dishes with red and blue designs relieved by gilded hatching, +side by side with enamelled works by Bernard Palissy, representing +serpents, frogs, and lizards in relief. + +From disembowelled cabinets escaped cascades of silver-lustrous Chinese +silks and waves of tinsels which an oblique sunbeam shot through with +luminous beads; while portraits of every era, in frames more or less +tarnished, smiled through their yellow varnish. + +The striped breastplate of a damascened suit of Milanese armor +glittered in one corner; loves and nymphs of porcelain, Chinese +grotesques, vases of _céladon_ and crackle-ware, Saxon and old Sèvres +cups encumbered the shelves and nooks of the apartment. + +The dealer followed me closely through the tortuous way contrived +between the piles of furniture, warding off with his hand the hazardous +sweep of my coat-skirts, watching my elbows with the uneasy attention +of an antiquarian and a usurer. + +It was a singular face, that of the merchant; an immense skull, +polished like a knee, and surrounded by a thin aureole of white hair, +which brought out the clear salmon tint of his complexion all the +more strikingly, lent him a false aspect of patriarchal _bonhomie_, +counteracted, however, by the scintillation of two little yellow eyes +which trembled in their orbits like two louis d’or upon quicksilver. +The curve of his nose presented an aquiline silhouette, which suggested +the Oriental or Jewish type. His hands--thin, slender, full of nerves +which projected like strings upon the finger-board of a violin, and +armed with claws like those on the terminations of bats’ wings--shook +with senile trembling; but those convulsively agitated hands became +firmer than steel pincers or lobsters’ claws when they lifted any +precious article--an onyx cup, a Venetian glass, or a dish of Bohemian +crystal. This strange old man had an aspect so thoroughly rabbinical +and cabalistic that he would have been burnt on the mere testimony of +his face three centuries ago. + +“Will you not buy something from me to-day, sir? Here is a Malay kreese +with a blade undulating like flame. Look at those grooves contrived +for the blood to run along, those teeth set backward so as to tear +out the entrails in withdrawing the weapon. It is a fine character of +ferocious arm, and will look well in your collection. This two-handed +sword is very beautiful. It is the work of Josepe de la Hera; and this +_colichemarde_, with its fenestrated guard--what a superb specimen of +handicraft!” + +“No; I have quite enough weapons and instruments of carnage. I want a +small figure, something which will suit me as a paper-weight, for I +cannot endure those trumpery bronzes which the stationers sell, and +which may be found on everybody’s desk.” + +The old gnome foraged among his ancient wares, and finally arranged +before me some antique bronzes, so-called at least; fragments of +malachite, little Hindoo or Chinese idols, a kind of poussah-toys in +jade-stone, representing the incarnations of Brahma or Vishnoo, and +wonderfully appropriate to the very undivine office of holding papers +and letters in place. + +I was hesitating between a porcelain dragon, all constellated with +warts, its mouth formidable with bristling tusks and ranges of +teeth, and an abominable little Mexican fetich, representing the god +Vitziliputzili _au naturel_, when I caught sight of a charming foot, +which I at first took for a fragment of some antique Venus. + +It had those beautiful ruddy and tawny tints that lend to Florentine +bronze that warm living look so much preferable to the gray-green +aspect of common bronzes, which might easily be mistaken for statues in +a state of putrefaction. Satiny gleams played over its rounded forms, +doubtless polished by the amorous kisses of twenty centuries, for it +seemed a Corinthian bronze, a work of the best era of art, perhaps +molded by Lysippus himself. + +“That foot will be my choice,” I said to the merchant, who regarded me +with an ironical and saturnine air, and held out the object desired +that I might examine it more fully. + +I was surprised at its lightness. It was not a foot of metal, but in +sooth a foot of flesh, an embalmed foot, a mummy’s foot. On examining +it still more closely the very grain of the skin, and the almost +imperceptible lines impressed upon it by the texture of the bandages, +became perceptible. The toes were slender and delicate, and terminated +by perfectly formed nails, pure and transparent as agates. The great +toe, slightly separated from the rest, afforded a happy contrast, in +the antique style, to the position of the other toes, and lent it +an aërial lightness--the grace of a bird’s foot. The sole, scarcely +streaked by a few almost imperceptible cross lines, afforded evidence +that it had never touched the bare ground, and had only come in contact +with the finest matting of Nile rushes and the softest carpets of +panther skin. + +“Ha, ha, you want the foot of the Princess Hermonthis!” exclaimed the +merchant, with a strange giggle, fixing his owlish eyes upon me. “Ha, +ha, ha! For a paper-weight! An original idea!--an artistic idea! Old +Pharaoh would certainly have been surprised had some one told him +that the foot of his adored daughter would be used for a paper-weight +after he had had a mountain of granite hollowed out as a receptacle +for the triple coffin, painted and gilded, covered with hieroglyphics +and beautiful paintings of the Judgment of Souls,” continued the queer +little merchant, half audibly, as though talking to himself. + +“How much will you charge me for this mummy fragment?” + +“Ah, the highest price I can get, for it is a superb piece. If I had +the match of it you could not have it for less than five hundred +francs. The daughter of a Pharaoh! Nothing is more rare.” + +“Assuredly that is not a common article, but still, how much do you +want? In the first place let me warn you that all my wealth consists of +just five louis. I can buy anything that costs five louis, but nothing +dearer. You might search my vest pockets and most secret drawers +without even finding one poor five-franc piece more.” + +“Five louis for the foot of the Princess Hermonthis! That is very +little, very little indeed. ’Tis an authentic foot,” muttered the +merchant, shaking his head, and imparting a peculiar rotary motion to +his eyes. “Well, take it, and I will give you the bandages into the +bargain,” he added, wrapping the foot in an ancient damask rag. “Very +fine! Real damask--Indian damask which has never been re-dyed. It is +strong, and yet it is soft,” he mumbled, stroking the frayed tissue +with his fingers, through the trade-acquired habit which moved him to +praise even an object of such little value that he himself deemed it +only worth the giving away. + +He poured the gold coins into a sort of mediæval alms-purse hanging at +his belt, repeating: + +“The foot of the Princess Hermonthis to be used for a paper-weight!” + +Then turning his phosphorescent eyes upon me, he exclaimed in a voice +strident as the crying of a cat which has swallowed a fish-bone: + +“Old Pharaoh will not be well pleased. He loved his daughter, the dear +man!” + +“You speak as if you were a contemporary of his. You are old enough, +goodness knows! but you do not date back to the Pyramids of Egypt,” I +answered, laughingly, from the threshold. + +I went home, delighted with my acquisition. + +With the idea of putting it to profitable use as soon as possible, I +placed the foot of the divine Princess Hermonthis upon a heap of papers +scribbled over with verses, in themselves an undecipherable mosaic work +of erasures; articles freshly begun; letters forgotten, and posted +in the table drawer in stead of the letter-box, an error to which +absent-minded people are peculiarly liable. The effect was charming, +_bizarre_, and romantic. + +Well satisfied with this embellishment, I went out with the gravity +and pride becoming one who feels that he has the ineffable advantage +over all the passers-by whom he elbows, of possessing a piece of the +Princess Hermonthis, daughter of Pharaoh. + +I looked upon all who did not possess, like myself, a paper-weight so +authentically Egyptian as very ridiculous people, and it seemed to me +that the proper occupation of every sensible man should consist in the +mere fact of having a mummy’s foot upon his desk. + +Happily I met some friends, whose presence distracted me in my +infatuation with this new acquisition. I went to dinner with them, for +I could not very well have dined with myself. + +When I came back that evening, with my brain slightly confused by a +few glasses of wine, a vague whiff of Oriental perfume delicately +titillated my olfactory nerves. The heat of the room had warmed the +natron, bitumen, and myrrh in which the _paraschistes_, who cut open +the bodies of the dead, had bathed the corpse of the princess. It was +a perfume at once sweet and penetrating, a perfume that four thousand +years had not been able to dissipate. + +The Dream of Egypt was Eternity. Her odors have the solidity of granite +and endure as long. + +I soon drank deeply from the black cup of sleep. For a few hours all +remained opaque to me. Oblivion and nothingness inundated me with their +sombre waves. + +Yet light gradually dawned upon the darkness of my mind. Dreams +commenced to touch me softly in their silent flight. + +The eyes of my soul were opened, and I beheld my chamber as it actually +was. I might have believed myself awake but for a vague consciousness +which assured me that I slept, and that something fantastic was about +to take place. + +The odor of the myrrh had augmented in intensity, and I felt a slight +headache, which I very naturally attributed to several glasses of +champagne that we had drunk to the unknown gods and our future +fortunes. I peered through my room with a feeling of expectation which +I saw nothing to justify. Every article of furniture was in its proper +place. The lamp, softly shaded by its globe of ground crystal, burned +upon its bracket; the water-color sketches shone under their Bohemian +glass; the curtains hung down languidly; everything wore an aspect of +tranquil slumber. + +After a few moments, however, all this calm interior appeared to +become disturbed. The woodwork cracked stealthily, the ash-covered log +suddenly emitted a jet of blue flame, and the disks of the pateras +seemed like great metallic eyes, watching, like myself, for the things +which were about to happen. + +My eyes accidentally fell upon the desk where I had placed the foot of +the Princess Hermonthis. + +Instead of remaining quiet, as behooved a foot which had been embalmed +for four thousand years, it commenced to act in a nervous manner, +contracted itself, and leaped over the papers like a startled frog. One +would have imagined that it had suddenly been brought into contact with +a galvanic battery. I could distinctly hear the dry sound made by its +little heel, hard as the hoof of a gazelle. + +I became rather discontented with my acquisition, inasmuch as I wished +my paper-weights to be of a sedentary disposition, and thought it very +unnatural that feet should walk about without legs, then I commenced to +experience a feeling closely akin to fear. + +Suddenly I saw the folds of my bed-curtain stir, and heard a bumping +sound, like that caused by some person hopping on one foot across the +floor. I must confess I became alternately hot and cold, that I felt a +strange wind chill my back, and that my suddenly rising hair caused my +night-cap to execute a leap of several yards. + +The bed-curtains opened and I beheld the strangest figure imaginable +before me. + +It was a young girl of a very deep coffee-brown complexion, like the +bayadere Amani, and possessing the purest Egyptian type of perfect +beauty. Her eyes were almond-shaped and oblique, with eyebrows so black +that they seemed blue; her nose was exquisitely chiselled, almost Greek +in its delicacy of outline; and she might indeed have been taken for a +Corinthian statue of bronze but for the prominence of her cheek-bones +and the slightly African fulness of her lips, which compelled one to +recognize her as belonging beyond all doubt to the hieroglyphic race +which dwelt upon the banks of the Nile. + +Her arms, slender and spindle-shaped like those of very young girls, +were encircled by a peculiar kind of metal bands and bracelets of +glass beads; her hair was all twisted into little cords, and she wore +upon her bosom a little idol-figure of green paste, bearing a whip +with seven lashes, which proved it to be an image of Isis; her brow +was adorned with a shining plate of gold, and a few traces of paint +relieved the coppery tint of her cheeks. + +As for her costume, it was very odd indeed. + +Fancy a _pagne_, or skirt, all formed of little strips of material +bedizened with red and black hieroglyphics, stiffened with bitumen, and +apparently belonging to a freshly unbandaged mummy. + +In one of those sudden flights of thought so common in dreams I +heard the hoarse falsetto of the bric-à-brac dealer, repeating like +a monotonous refrain the phrase he had uttered in his shop with so +enigmatical an intonation: + +“Old Pharaoh will not be well pleased. He loved his daughter, the dear +man!” + +One strange circumstance, which was not at all calculated to restore +my equanimity, was that the apparition had but one foot; the other was +broken off at the ankle! + +She approached the table where the foot lay, starting and fidgetting +about more than ever, and there supported herself upon the edge of the +desk. I saw her eyes fill with pearly gleaming tears. + +Although she had not as yet spoken, I fully comprehended the thoughts +which agitated her. She looked at her foot--for it was indeed her +own--with an exquisitely graceful expression of coquettish sadness, but +the foot leaped and ran hither and thither, as though impelled on steel +springs. + +Twice or thrice she extended her hand to seize it, but could not +succeed. + +Then commenced between the Princess Hermonthis and her foot--which +appeared to be endowed with a special life of its own--a very fantastic +dialogue in a most ancient Coptic tongue, such as might have been +spoken thirty centuries ago by the sphinxes of the land of Ser. +Luckily I understood Coptic perfectly well that night. + +The Princess Hermonthis cried, in a voice sweet and vibrant as the +tones of a crystal bell: + +“Well, my dear little foot, you always flee from me, yet I always +took good care of you. I bathed you with perfumed water in a bowl of +alabaster; I smoothed your heel with pumice-stone mixed with palm +oil; your nails were cut with golden scissors and polished with a +hippopotamus tooth; I was careful to select _tatbebs_ for you, painted +and embroidered and turned up at the toes, which were the envy of all +the young girls in Egypt. You wore on your great toe rings bearing the +device of the sacred Scarabæus, and you supported one of the lightest +bodies that a lazy foot could sustain.” + +The foot replied in a pouting and chagrined tone: + +“You know well that I do not belong to myself any longer. I have been +bought and paid for. The old merchant knew what he was about. He bore +you a grudge for having refused to espouse him. This is an ill turn +which he has done you. The Arab who violated your royal coffin in the +subterranean pits of the necropolis of Thebes was sent thither by him. +He desired to prevent you from being present at the reunion of the +shadowy nations in the cities below. Have you five pieces of gold for +my ransom?” + +“Alas, no! My jewels, my rings, my purses of gold and silver were all +stolen from me,” answered the Princess Hermonthis, with a sob. + +“Princess,” I then exclaimed, “I never retained anybody’s foot +unjustly. Even though you have not got the five louis which it cost me, +I present it to you gladly. I should feel unutterably wretched to think +that I were the cause of so amiable a person as the Princess Hermonthis +being lame.” + +I delivered this discourse in a royally gallant, troubadour tone which +must have astonished the beautiful Egyptian girl. + +She turned a look of deepest gratitude upon me, and her eyes shone with +bluish gleams of light. + +She took her foot, which surrendered itself willingly this time, like a +woman about to put on her little shoe, and adjusted it to her leg with +much skill. + +This operation over, she took a few steps about the room, as though to +assure herself that she was really no longer lame. + +“Ah, how pleased my father will be! He who was so unhappy because of my +mutilation, and who from the moment of my birth set a whole nation at +work to hollow me out a tomb so deep that he might preserve me intact +until that last day, when souls must be weighed in the balance of +Amenthi! Come with me to my father. He will receive you kindly, for you +have given me back my foot.” + +I thought this proposition natural enough. I arrayed myself in a +dressing-gown of large-flowered pattern, which lent me a very Pharaonic +aspect, hurriedly put on a pair of Turkish slippers, and informed the +Princess Hermonthis that I was ready to follow her. + +Before starting, Hermonthis took from her neck the little idol of +green paste, and laid it on the scattered sheets of paper which covered +the table. + +“It is only fair,” she observed, smilingly, “that I should replace your +paper-weight.” + +She gave me her hand, which felt soft and cold, like the skin of a +serpent, and we departed. + +We passed for some time with the velocity of an arrow through a fluid +and grayish expanse, in which half-formed silhouettes flitted swiftly +by us, to right and left. + +For an instant we saw only sky and sea. + +A few moments later obelisks commenced to tower in the distance; pylons +and vast flights of steps guarded by sphinxes became clearly outlined +against the horizon. + +We had reached our destination. + +The princess conducted me to a mountain of rose-colored granite, in the +face of which appeared an opening so narrow and low that it would have +been difficult to distinguish it from the fissures in the rock, had not +its location been marked by two stelæ wrought with sculptures. + +Hermonthis kindled a torch and led the way before me. + +We traversed corridors hewn through the living rock. These walls +covered with hieroglyphics and paintings of allegorical processions, +might well have occupied thousands of arms for thousands of years in +their formation. These corridors of interminable length opened into +square chambers, in the midst of which pits had been contrived, through +which we descended by cramp-irons or spiral stairways. These pits +again conducted us into other chambers, opening into other corridors, +likewise decorated with painted sparrow-hawks, serpents coiled in +circles, the symbols of the _tau_ and _pedum_--prodigious works of art +which no living eye can ever examine--interminable legends of granite +which only the dead have time to read through all eternity. + +At last we found ourselves in a hall so vast, so enormous, so +immeasurable, that the eye could not reach its limits. Files of +monstrous columns stretched far out of sight on every side, between +which twinkled livid stars of yellowish flame; points of light which +revealed further depths incalculable in the darkness beyond. + +The Princess Hermonthis still held my hand, and graciously saluted the +mummies of her acquaintance. + +My eyes became accustomed to the dim twilight, and objects became +discernible. + +I beheld the kings of the subterranean races seated upon thrones--grand +old men, though dry, withered, wrinkled like parchment, and blackened +with naphtha and bitumen--all wearing _pshents_ of gold, and +breast-plates and gorgets glittering with precious stones, their eyes +immovably fixed like the eyes of sphinxes, and their long beards +whitened by the snow of centuries. Behind them stood their peoples, +in the stiff and constrained posture enjoined by Egyptian art, all +eternally preserving the attitude prescribed by the hieratic code. +Behind these nations, the cats, ibixes, and crocodiles, contemporary +with them--rendered monstrous of aspect by their swathing bands--mewed, +flapped their wings, or extended their jaws in a saurian giggle. + +All the Pharaohs were there--Cheops, Chephrenes, Psammetichus, +Sesostris, Amenotaph--all the dark rulers of the pyramids and sphinxes. +On yet higher thrones sat Chronos and Xixouthros, who was contemporary +with the deluge, and Tubal Cain, who reigned before it. + +The beard of King Xixouthros had grown seven times around the granite +table, upon which he leaned, lost in deep reverie, and buried in dreams. + +Farther back, through a dusty cloud, I beheld dimly the seventy-two +pre-adamite kings, with their seventy-two peoples, forever passed away. + +After permitting me to gaze upon this bewildering spectacle a few +moments, the Princess Hermonthis presented me to her father Pharaoh, +who favored me with a most gracious nod. + +“I have found my foot again! I have found my foot!” cried the princess, +clapping her little hands together with every sign of frantic joy. “It +was this gentleman who restored it to me.” + +The races of Kemi, the races of Nahasi--all the black, bronzed, and +copper-colored nations repeated in chorus: + +“The Princess Hermonthis has found her foot again!” + +Even Xixouthros himself was visibly affected. + +He raised his heavy eyelids, stroked his moustache with his fingers, +and turned upon me a glance weighty with centuries. + +“By Oms, the dog of Hell, and Tmei, daughter of the Sun and of Truth, +this is a brave and worthy lad!” exclaimed Pharaoh, pointing to me with +his sceptre, which was terminated with a lotus-flower. “What recompense +do you desire?” + +Filled with that daring inspired by dreams in which nothing seems +impossible, I asked him for the hand of the Princess Hermonthis. The +hand seemed to me a very proper antithetic recompense for the foot. + +Pharaoh opened wide his great eyes of glass in astonishment at my witty +request. + +“What country do you come from, what is your age?” + +“I am a Frenchman, and I am twenty-seven years old, venerable Pharaoh.” + +“Twenty-seven years old, and he wishes to espouse the Princess +Hermonthis who is thirty centuries old!” cried out at once all the +Thrones and all the Circles of Nations. + +Only Hermonthis herself did not seem to think my request unreasonable. + +“If you were even two thousand years old,” replied the ancient king, +“I would willingly give you the princess, but the disproportion is too +great; and, besides, we must give our daughters husbands who will last +well. You do not know how to preserve yourselves any longer. Even those +who died only fifteen centuries ago are already no more than a handful +of dust. Behold, my flesh is solid as basalt, my bones are bones of +steel! + +“I will be present on the last day of the world with the same body +and the same features which I had during my lifetime. My daughter +Hermonthis will last longer than a statue of bronze. + +“Then the last particles of your dust will have been scattered abroad +by the winds, and even Isis herself, who was able to find the atoms of +Osiris, would scarce be able to recompense your being. + +“See how vigorous I yet remain, and how mighty is my grasp,” he added, +shaking my hand in the English fashion with a strength that buried my +rings in the flesh of my fingers. + +He squeezed me so hard that I awoke, and found my friend Alfred shaking +me by the arm to make me get up. + +“Oh, you everlasting sleeper! Must I have you carried out into the +middle of the street, and fireworks exploded in your ears? It is +afternoon. Don’t you recollect your promise to take me with you to see +M. Aguado’s Spanish pictures?” + +“God! I forgot all, all about it,” I answered, dressing myself +hurriedly. “We will go there at once. I have the permit lying there on +my desk.” + +I started to find it, but fancy my astonishment when I beheld, instead +of the mummy’s foot I had purchased the evening before, the little +green paste idol left in its place by the Princess Hermonthis! + + + + +THE THIEF + +By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN + +[Attribution By permission of the author. From “Masterpieces of +Mystery,” by Anna Katharine Green, copyright 1913, by Dodd, Mead & Co.] + + +“And now, if you have all seen the coin and sufficiently admired it, +you may pass it back. I make a point of never leaving it off the shelf +for more than fifteen minutes.” + +The half-dozen or more guests seated about the board of the genial +speaker, glanced casually at each other as though expecting to see the +object mentioned immediately produced. + +But no coin appeared. + +“I have other amusements waiting,” suggested their host, with a smile +in which even his wife could detect no signs of impatience. “Now let +Robert put it back into the cabinet.” + +Robert was the butler. + +Blank looks, negative gestures, but still no coin. + +“Perhaps it is in somebody’s lap,” timidly ventured one of the younger +women. “It doesn’t seem to be on the table.” + +Immediately all the ladies began lifting their napkins and shaking +out the gloves which lay under them, in an effort to relieve their own +embarrassment and that of the gentlemen who had not even so simple a +resource as this at their command. + +“It can’t be lost,” protested Mr. Sedgwick, with an air of perfect +confidence. “I saw it but a minute ago in somebody’s hand. Darrow, you +had it; what did you do with it?” + +“Passed it along.” + +“Well, well, it must be under somebody’s plate or doily.” And he began +to move about his own and such dishes as were within reach of his hand. + +Each guest imitated him, lifting glasses and turning over spoons till +Mr. Sedgwick himself bade them desist. “It’s slipped to the floor,” he +nonchalantly concluded. “A toast to the ladies, and we will give Robert +the chance of looking for it.” + +As they drank this toast, his apparently careless, but quietly astute, +glance took in each countenance about him. The coin was very valuable +and its loss would be keenly felt by him. Had it slipped from the table +some one’s eye would have perceived it, some hand would have followed +it. Only a minute or two before, the attention of the whole party had +been concentrated upon it. Darrow had held it up for all to see, while +he discoursed upon its history. He would take Darrow aside at the +first opportunity and ask him--But--ah! how could he do that? These +were his intimate friends. He knew them well, more than well, with one +exception, and he--Well, he was the handsomest of the lot and the most +debonair and agreeable. A little more gay than usual to-night, possibly +a trifle too gay, considering that a man of Mr. Blake’s social weight +and business standing sat at the board; but not to be suspected, no, +not to be suspected, even if he was the next man after Darrow and had +betrayed something like confusion when the eyes of the whole table +turned his way at the former’s simple statement of “I passed it on.” +Robert would find the coin; he was a fool to doubt it; and if Robert +did not, why, he would simply have to pocket his chagrin, and not let a +triviality like this throw a shadow over his hospitality. + +All this, while he genially lifted his glass and proposed the health of +the ladies. The constraint of the preceding moment was removed by his +manner, and a dozen jests caused as many merry laughs. Then he pushed +back his chair. + +“And now, some music!” he cheerfully cried, as with lingering glances +and some further pokings about of the table furniture, the various +guests left their places and followed him into the adjoining room. + +But the ladies were too nervous and the gentlemen not sufficiently +sure of their voices to undertake the entertainment of the rest at a +moment of such acknowledged suspense; and notwithstanding the exertions +of their host and his quiet but much discomfited wife, it soon became +apparent that but one thought engrossed them all, and that any attempt +at conversation must prove futile so long as the curtains between the +two rooms remained open and they could see Robert on his hands and +knees searching the floor and shoving aside the rugs. + +Darrow, who was Mr. Sedgwick’s brother-in-law and almost as much at +home in the house as Sedgwick himself, made a move to draw these +curtains, but something in his relative’s face stopped him and he +desisted with some laughing remark which did not attract enough +attention, even, to elicit any response. + +“I hope his eyesight is good,” murmured one of the young girls, edging +a trifle forward. “Mayn’t I help him look? They say at home that I am +the only one in the house who can find anything.” + +Mr. Sedgwick smiled indulgently at the speaker (a round-faced, +round-eyed, merry-hearted girl whom in days gone by he had dandled on +his knees) but answered quite quickly for him: + +“Robert will find it if it is there.” Then, distressed at this +involuntary disclosure of his thought, added in his wholehearted way: +“It’s such a little thing, and the room is so big, and a round object +rolls unexpectedly far, you know. Well, have you got it?” he eagerly +demanded, as the butler finally showed himself in the door. + +“No, sir; and it’s not in the dining-room. I have cleared the table and +thoroughly searched the floor.” + +Mr. Sedgwick knew that he had. He had no doubts about Robert. Robert +had been in his employ for years and had often handled his coins and, +at his order, sometimes shown them. + +“Very well,” said he, “we’ll not bother about it any more to-night; you +may draw the curtains.” + +But here the clear, almost strident voice of the youngest man of the +party interposed. + +“Wait a minute,” said he. “This especial coin is the great treasure +of Mr. Sedgwick’s valuable collection. It is unique in this country, +and not only worth a great deal of money, but cannot be duplicated at +any cost. There are only three of its stamp in the world. Shall we +let the matter pass, then, as though it were of small importance? I +feel that we cannot; that we are, in a measure, responsible for its +disappearance. Mr. Sedgwick handed it to us to look at, and while it +was going through our hands it vanished. What must he think? What has +he every right to think? I need not put it into words; you know what +you would think, what you could not help but think, if the object +were yours and it was lost in this way. Gentlemen--I leave the ladies +entirely out of this--I do not propose that he shall have further +opportunity to associate me with this very natural doubt. I demand the +privilege of emptying my pockets here and now, before any of us have +left his presence. I am a connoisseur in coins myself and consequently +find it imperative to take the initiative in this matter. As I propose +to spare the ladies, let us step back into the dining-room. Mr. +Sedgwick, pray don’t deny me; I’m thoroughly in earnest, I assure you.” + +The astonishment created by this audacious proposition was so great, +and the feeling it occasioned so intense, that for an instant all +stood speechless. Young Hammersley was a millionaire himself, and +generous to a fault, as all knew. Under no circumstances would any one +even suspect him of appropriating anything, great or small, to which he +had not a perfect right. Nor was he likely to imagine for a moment that +any one would. That he could make such a proposition then, based upon +any such plea, argued a definite suspicion in some other quarter, which +could not pass unrecognized. In vain Mr. Sedgwick raised his voice in +frank and decided protest, two of the gentlemen had already made a +quick move toward Robert, who still stood, stupefied by the situation, +with his hand on the cord which controlled the curtains. + +“He is quite right,” remarked one of these, as he passed into the +dining-room. “I shouldn’t sleep a wink to-night if this question +remained unsettled.” The other, the oldest man present, the financier +of whose standing and highly esteemed character I have already spoken, +said nothing, but followed in a way to show that his mind was equally +made up. + +The position in which Mr. Sedgwick found himself placed was far from +enviable. With a glance at the two remaining gentlemen, he turned +towards the ladies now standing in a close group at the other end of +the room. One of them was his wife, and he quivered internally as he +noted the deep red of her distressed countenance. But it was the other +he addressed, singling out, with the rare courtesy which was his by +nature, the one comparative stranger, Darrow’s niece, a Rochester +girl, who could not be finding this, her first party in Boston, very +amusing. + +“I hope you will appreciate the dilemma in which I have been placed by +these gentlemen,” he began, “and will pardon--” + +But here he noticed that she was not in the least attending; her eyes +were on the handsome figure of Hugh Clifford, her uncle’s neighbor +at table, who in company with Mr. Hammersley was still hesitating +in the doorway. As Mr. Sedgwick stopped his useless talk, the two +passed in and the sound of her fluttering breath as she finally turned +a listening ear his way, caused him to falter as he repeated his +assurances and begged her indulgence. + +She answered with some conventional phrase which he forgot while +crossing the room. But the remembrance of her slight satin-robed +figure, drawn up in an attitude whose carelessness was totally belied +by the anxiety of her half-averted glance, followed him into the +presence of the four men awaiting him. Four? I should say five, for +Robert was still there, though in a corner by himself, ready, no +doubt, to share any attempt which the others might make to prove their +innocence. + +“The ladies will await us in the music-room,” announced the host +on entering; and then paused, disconcerted by the picture suddenly +disclosed to his eye. On one side stood the two who had entered first, +with their eyes fixed in open sternness on young Clifford, who, quite +alone on the rug, faced them with a countenance of such pronounced +pallor that there seemed to be nothing else in the room. As his +features were singularly regular and his almost perfect mouth was +accentuated by a smile as set as his figure was immobile, the effect +was so startling that not only Mr. Sedgwick, but every other person +present, no doubt, wished that the plow had never turned the furrow +which had brought this wretched coin to light. + +However, the affair had gone too far now for retreat, as was shown by +Mr. Blake, the elderly financier whom all were ready to recognize as +the chief guest there. With an apologetic glance at Mr. Hammersley, the +impetuous young millionaire who had first proposed this embarrassing +procedure, he advanced to an empty side-table and began, in a quiet, +business-like way, to lay on it the contents of his various pockets. +As the pile rose, the silence grew, the act in itself was so simple, +the motive actuating it so serious and out of accord with the standing +of the company and the nature of the occasion. When all was done, he +stepped up to Mr. Sedgwick, with his arms raised and held out from his +body. + +“Now accommodate me,” said he, “by running your hands up and down my +chest. I have a secret pocket there which should be empty at this time.” + +Mr. Sedgwick, fascinated by his look, did as he was bid, reporting +shortly: + +“You are quite correct. I find nothing there.” + +Mr. Blake stepped back. As he did so, every eye, suddenly released +from his imposing figure, flashed towards the immovable Clifford, to +find him still absorbed by the action and attitude of the man who +had just undergone what to him doubtless appeared a degrading ordeal. +Pale before, he was absolutely livid now, though otherwise unchanged. +To break the force of what appeared to be an open, if involuntary, +self-betrayal, another guest stepped forward; but no sooner had he +raised his hand to his vest-pocket than Clifford moved, and in a high, +strident voice totally unlike his usual tones remarked: + +“This is all--all--very interesting and commendable, no doubt. But +for such a procedure to be of any real value it should be entered +into by all. Gentlemen”--his rigidity was all gone now and so was his +pallor--“I am unwilling to submit myself to what, in my eyes, is an act +of unnecessary humiliation. Our word should be enough. I have not the +coin--” Stopped by the absolute silence, he cast a distressed look into +the faces about him, till it reached that of Mr. Sedgwick, where it +lingered, in an appeal to which that gentleman, out of his great heart, +instantly responded. + +“One _should_ take the word of the gentleman he invites to his house. +We will excuse you, and excuse all the others from the unnecessary +ceremony which Mr. Blake has been good enough to initiate.” + +But this show of favor was not to the mind of the last-mentioned +gentleman, and met with instant reproof. + +“Not so fast, Sedgwick. I am the oldest man here and I did not feel it +was enough simply to state that this coin was not on my person. As to +the question of humiliation, it strikes me that humiliation would lie, +in this instance, in a refusal for which no better excuse can be given +than the purely egotistical one of personal pride.” + +At this attack, the fine head of Clifford rose, and Darrow, remembering +the girl within, felt instinctively grateful that she was not here to +note the effect it gave to his person. + +“I regret to differ,” said he. “To me no humiliation could equal that +of demonstrating in this open manner the fact of one’s not being a +thief.” + +Mr. Blake gravely surveyed him. For some reason the issue seemed no +longer to lie between Clifford and the actual loser of the coin, but +between him and his fellow guest, this uncompromising banker. + +“A thief!” repeated the young man, in an indescribable tone full of +bitterness and scorn. + +Mr. Blake remained unmoved; he was a just man but strict, hard to +himself, hard to others. But he was not entirely without heart. +Suddenly his expression lightened. A certain possible explanation of +the other’s attitude had entered his mind. + +“Young men sometimes have reasons for their susceptibilities which the +old forget. If you have such--if you carry a photograph, believe that +we have no interest in pictures of any sort to-night and certainly +would fail to recognize them.” + +A smile of disdain flickered across the young man’s lip. Evidently it +was no discovery of this kind that he feared. + +“I carry no photographs,” said he; and, bowing low to his host, he +added in a measured tone which but poorly hid his profound agitation, +“I regret to have interfered in the slightest way with the pleasure +of the evening. If you will be so good as to make my excuses to the +ladies, I will withdraw from a presence upon which I have made so poor +an impression.” + +Mr. Sedgwick prized his coin and despised deceit, but he could not let +a guest leave him in this manner. Instinctively he held out his hand. +Proudly young Clifford dropped his own into it; but the lack of mutual +confidence was felt and the contact was a cold one. Half regretting his +impulsive attempt at courtesy, Mr. Sedgwick drew back, and Clifford +was already at the door leading into the hall, when Hammersley, who by +his indiscreet proposition had made all this trouble for him, sprang +forward and caught him by the arm. + +“Don’t go,” he whispered. “You’re done for if you leave like this. +I--I was a brute to propose such an asinine thing, but having done so +I am bound to see you out of the difficulty. Come into the adjoining +room--there is nobody there at present--and we will empty our pockets +together and find this lost article if we can. I may have pocketed it +myself, in a fit of abstraction.” + +Did the other hesitate? Some thought so; but, if he did, it was but +momentarily. + +“I cannot,” he muttered; “think what you will of me, but let me go.” +And dashing open the door he disappeared from their sight just as light +steps and the rustle of skirts were heard again in the adjoining room. + +“There are the ladies. What shall we say to them?” queried Sedgwick, +stepping slowly towards the intervening curtains. + +“Tell them the truth,” enjoined Mr. Blake, as he hastily repocketed his +own belongings. “Why should a handsome devil like that be treated with +any more consideration than another? He has a secret if he hasn’t a +coin. Let them know this. It may save some one a future heartache.” + +The last sentence was muttered, but Mr. Sedgwick heard it. Perhaps that +was why his first movement on entering the adjoining room was to cross +over to the cabinet and shut and lock the heavily paneled door which +had been left standing open. At all events, the action drew general +attention and caused an instant silence, broken the next minute by an +ardent cry: + +“So your search was futile?” + +It came from the lady least known, the interesting young stranger whose +personality had made so vivid an impression upon him. + +“Quite so,” he answered, hastily facing her with an attempted smile. +“The gentlemen decided not to carry matters to the length first +proposed. The object was not worth it. I approved their decision. +This was meant for a joyous occasion. Why mar it by unnecessary +unpleasantness?” + +She had given him her full attention while he was speaking, but her eye +wandered away the moment he had finished and rested searchingly on the +other gentlemen. Evidently she missed a face she had expected to find +there, for her color changed and she drew back behind the other ladies +with the light, unmusical laugh women sometimes use to hide a secret +emotion. + +It brought Mr. Darrow forward. + +“Some were not willing to subject themselves to what they considered an +unnecessary humiliation”, he curtly remarked. “Mr. Clifford--” + +“There! let us drop it,” put in his brother-in-law. “I’ve lost my coin +and that’s the end of it. I don’t intend to have the evening spoiled +for a thing like that. Music! ladies, music and a jolly air! No more +dumps.” And with as hearty a laugh as he could command in face of the +somber looks he encountered on every side, he led the way back into the +music-room. + +Once there the women seemed to recover their spirits; that is, such as +remained. One had disappeared. A door opened from this room into the +main hall and through this a certain young lady had vanished before the +others had had time to group themselves about the piano. We know who +this lady was; possibly, we know, too, why her hostess did not follow +her. + +Meanwhile, Mr. Clifford had gone upstairs for his coat, and was +lingering there, the prey of some very bitter reflections. Though he +had encountered nobody on the stairs, and neither heard nor saw any +one in the halls, he felt confident that he was not unwatched. He +remembered the look on the butler’s face as he tore himself away from +Hammersley’s restraining hand, and he knew what that fellow thought +and also was quite able to guess what that fellow would do, if his +suspicions were farther awakened. This conviction brought an odd and +not very open smile to his face, as he finally turned to descend the +one flight which separated him from the front door he was so ardently +desirous of closing behind him for ever. + +A moment and he would be down; but the steps were many and seemed to +multiply indefinitely as he sped below. Should his departure be noted, +and some one advance to detain him! He fancied he heard a rustle in +the open space under the stairs. Were any one to step forth, Robert +or-- With a start, he paused and clutched the banister. Some one had +stepped forth; a woman! The swish of her skirts was unmistakable. He +felt the chill of a new dread. Never in his short but triumphant career +had he met coldness or disapproval in the eye of a woman. Was he to +encounter it now? If so, it would go hard with him. He trembled as he +turned his head to see which of the four it was. If it should prove to +be his hostess-- But it was not she; it was Darrow’s young friend, the +pretty inconsequent girl he had chatted with at the dinner-table, and +afterwards completely forgotten in the events which had centered all +his thoughts upon himself. And she was standing there, waiting for him! +He would have to pass her,--notice her,--speak. + +But when the encounter occurred and their eyes met, he failed to +find in hers any sign of the disapproval he feared, but instead a +gentlewomanly interest which he might interpret deeply, or otherwise, +according to the measure of his need. + +That need seemed to be a deep one at this instant, for his countenance +softened perceptibly as he took her quietly extended hand. + +“Good-night,” she said; “I am just going myself,” and with an +entrancing smile of perfect friendliness, she fluttered past him up the +stairs. + +It was the one and only greeting which his sick heart could have +sustained without flinching. Just this friendly farewell of one +acquaintance to another, as though no change had taken place in his +relations to society and the world. And she was a woman and not a +thoughtless girl! Staring after her slight, elegant figure, slowly +ascending the stair, he forgot to return her cordial greeting. What +delicacy, and yet what character there was in the poise of her spirited +head! He felt his breath fail him, in his anxiety for another glance +from her eye, for some sign, however small, that she had carried the +thought of him up those few, quickly mounted steps. Would he get it? +She is at the bend of the stair; she pauses--turns, a nod--and she is +gone. + +With an impetuous gesture, he dashed from the house. + +In the drawing-room the noise of the closing door was heard, and +a change at once took place in the attitude and expression of +all present. The young millionaire approached Mr. Sedgwick and +confidentially remarked: + +“There goes your precious coin. I’m sure of it. I even think I can +tell the exact place in which it is hidden. His hand went to his left +coat-pocket once too often.” + +“That’s right. I noticed the action also,” chimed in Mr. Darrow, who +had stepped up, unobserved. “And I noticed something else. His whole +appearance altered from the moment this coin came on the scene. An +indefinable half-eager, half-furtive look crept into his eye as he saw +it passed from hand to hand. I remember it now, though it didn’t make +much impression upon me at the time.” + +“And I remember another thing,” supplemented Hammersley in his anxiety +to set himself straight with these men of whose entire approval he was +not quite sure. “He raised his napkin to his mouth very frequently +during the meal and held it there longer than is usual, too. Once he +caught me looking at him, and for a moment he flushed scarlet, then +he broke out with one of his witty remarks and I had to laugh like +everybody else. If I am not mistaken, his napkin was up and his right +hand working behind it, about the time Mr. Sedgwick requested the +return of his coin.” + +“The idiot! Hadn’t he sense enough to know that such a loss wouldn’t +pass unquestioned? The gem of the collection; known all over the +country, and he’s not even a connoisseur.” + +“No; I’ve never even heard him mention numismatics.” + +“Mr. Darrow spoke of its value. Perhaps that was what tempted him. I +know that Clifford’s been rather down on his luck lately.” + +“He? Well, he don’t look it. There isn’t one of us so well set up. +Pardon me, Mr. Hammersley, you understand what I mean. He perhaps +relies a little bit too much on his fine clothes.” + +“He needn’t. His face is his fortune--all the one he’s got, I heard +it said. He had a pretty income from Consolidated Silver, but that’s +gone up and left him in what you call difficulties. If he has debts +besides--” + +But here Mr. Darrow was called off. His niece wanted to see him for +one minute in the hall. When he came back it was to make his adieu +and hers. She had been taken suddenly indisposed and his duty was to +see her immediately home. This broke up the party, and amid general +protestations the various guests were taking their leave when the whole +action was stopped by a smothered cry from the dining-room, and the +precipitate entrance of Robert, asking for Mr. Sedgwick. + +“What’s up? What’s happened?” demanded that gentleman, hurriedly +advancing towards the agitated butler. + +“Found!” he exclaimed, holding up the coin between his thumb and +forefinger. “It was standing straight up between two leaves of the +table. It tumbled and fell to the floor as Luke and I were taking them +out.” + +Silence which could be felt for a moment. Then each man turned and +surveyed his neighbor, while the women’s voices rose in little cries +that were almost hysterical. + +“I knew that it would be found, and found here,” came from the hallway +in rich, resonant tones. “Uncle, do not hurry; I am feeling better,” +followed in unconscious näiveté, as the young girl stepped in, showing +a countenance in which were small signs of indisposition or even of +depressed spirits. + +Mr. Darrow, with a smile of sympathetic understanding, joined the +others now crowding about the butler. + +“I noticed the crack between these two leaves when I pushed about the +plates and dishes,” he was saying. “But I never thought of looking in +it for the missing coin. I’m sure I’m very sorry that I didn’t.” + +Mr. Darrow, to whom these words had recalled a circumstance he had +otherwise completely forgotten, anxiously remarked: “That must have +happened shortly after it left my hand. I recall now that the lady +sitting between me and Clifford gave it a twirl which sent it spinning +over the bare tabletop. I don’t think she realized the action. She was +listening--we all were--to a flow of bright repartee going on below us, +and failed to follow the movements of the coin. Otherwise, she would +have spoken. But what a marvel that it should have reached that crack +in just the position to fall in!” + +“It wouldn’t happen again, not if we spun it there for a month of +Sundays.” + +“But Mr. Clifford!” put in an agitated voice. + +“Yes, it has been rather hard on him. But he shouldn’t have such keen +sensibilities. If he had emptied out his pockets cheerfully and at the +first intimation, none of this unpleasantness would have happened. +Mr. Sedgwick, I congratulate you upon the recovery of this valuable +coin, and am quite ready to offer my services if you wish to make Mr. +Clifford immediately acquainted with Robert’s discovery.” + +“Thank you, but I will perform that duty myself,” was Mr. Sedgwick’s +quiet rejoinder, as he unlocked the door of his cabinet and carefully +restored the coin to its proper place. + +When he faced back, he found his guests on the point of leaving. Only +one gave signs of any intention of lingering. This was the elderly +financier who had shown such stern resolve in his treatment of Mr. +Clifford’s so-called sensibilities. He had confided his wife to the +care of Mr. Darrow, and now met Mr. Sedgwick with this remark: + +“I’m going to ask a favor of you. If, as you have intimated, it is your +intention to visit Mr. Clifford to-night, I should like to go with +you. I don’t understand this young man and his unaccountable attitude +in this matter, and it is very important that I should. Have you any +objection to my company? My motor is at the door, and we can settle +the affair in twenty-minutes.” + +“None,” returned his host, a little surprised, however, at the +request. “His pride does seem a little out of place, but he was among +comparative strangers, and seemed to feel his honor greatly impugned by +Hammersley’s unfortunate proposition. I’m sorry way down to the ground +for what has occurred, and cannot carry him our apologies too soon.” + +“No, you cannot,” retorted the other shortly. And so seriously did he +utter this that no time was lost by Mr. Sedgwick, and as soon as they +could get into their coats, they were in the motor and on their way to +the young man’s apartment. + +Their experience began at the door. A man was lolling there who told +them that Mr. Clifford had changed his quarters; where he did not know. +But upon the production of a five-dollar bill, he remembered enough +about it to give them a number and street where possibly they might +find him. In a rush, they hastened there; only to hear the same story +from the sleepy elevator boy anticipating his last trip up for the +night. + +“Mr. Clifford left a week ago; he didn’t tell me where he was going.” + +Nevertheless the boy knew; that they saw, and another but smaller bill +came into requisition and awoke his sleepy memory. + +The street and number which he gave made the two well-to-do men +stare. But they said nothing, though the looks they cast back at the +second-rate quarters they were leaving, so far below the elegant +apartment house they had visited first, were sufficiently expressive. +The scale of descent from luxury to positive discomfort was proving a +rapid one and prepared them for the dismal, ill-cared-for, altogether +repulsive doorway before which they halted next. No attendant waited +here; not even an elevator boy; the latter for the good reason that +there was no elevator. An uninviting flight of stairs was before them! +and on one the few doors within sight a simple card showed the name of +the occupant. + +Mr. Sedgwick glanced at his companion. + +“Shall we go up?” he asked. + +Mr. Blake nodded. “We’ll find him,” said he, “if it takes all night.” + +“Surely he cannot have sunk lower than this.” + +“Remembering his get-up, I do not think so. Yet who knows? Some mystery +lies back of his whole conduct. Dining in your home, with this to come +back to! I don’t wonder--” + +But here a thought struck him. Pausing with his foot on the stair, he +turned a flushed countenance towards Mr. Sedgwick. “I’ve an idea,” said +he. “Perhaps--” He whispered the rest. + +Mr. Sedgwick stared and shook his shoulders. “Possibly,” said he, +flushing slightly in his turn. Then, as they proceeded up, “I feel like +a brute, anyway. A sorry night’s business all through, unless the end +proves better than the beginning.” + +“We’ll start from the top. Something tells me that we shall find him +close under the roof. Can you read the names by such a light?” + +“Barely; but I have matches.” + +And now there might have been witnessed by any chance home-comer the +curious sight of two extremely well-dressed men pottering through the +attic hall of this decaying old domicile, reading the cards on the +doors by means of a lighted match. + +And vainly. On none of the cards could be seen the name they sought. + +“We’re on the wrong track,” protested Mr. Blake. “No use keeping this +up,” but found himself stopped, when about to turn away, by a gesture +of Sedgwick’s. + +“There’s a light under the door you see there untagged,” said he. “I’m +going to knock.” + +He did so. There was a sound within and then utter silence. + +He knocked again. A man’s step was heard approaching the door, then +again the silence. + +Mr. Sedgwick made a third essay, and then the door was suddenly +pulled inward and in the gap they saw the handsome face and graceful +figure of the young man they had so lately encountered amid palatial +surroundings. But how changed! how openly miserable! and when he saw +who his guests were, how proudly defiant of their opinion and presence. + +“You have found the coin,” he quietly remarked. “I appreciate your +courtesy in coming here to inform me of it. Will not that answer, +without further conversation? I am on the point of retiring and--and--” + +Even the hardihood of a very visible despair gave way for an instant as +he met Mr. Sedgwick’s eye. In the break which followed, the older man +spoke. + +“Pardon us, but we have come thus far with a double purpose. First, +to tender our apologies, which you have been good enough to accept; +secondly, to ask, in no spirit of curiosity, I assure you, a question +that I seem to see answered, but which I should be glad to hear +confirmed by your lips. May we not come in?” + +The question was put with a rare smile such as sometimes was seen on +this hard-grained handler of millions, and the young man, seeing it, +faltered back, leaving the way open for them to enter. The next minute +he seemed to regret the impulse, for backing against a miserable table +they saw there, he drew himself up with an air as nearly hostile as one +of his nature could assume. + +“I know of no question,” said he, “which I feel at this very late hour +inclined to answer. A man who has been tracked as I must have been for +you to find me here, is hardly in a mood to explain his poverty or +the mad desire for former luxuries which took him to the house of one +friendly enough, he thought, to accept his presence without inquiry as +to the place he lived in or the nature or number of the reverses which +had brought him to such a place as this.” + +“I do not--believe me--” faltered Mr. Sedgwick, greatly embarrassed +and distressed. In spite of the young man’s attempt to hide the +contents of the table, he had seen the two objects lying there--a piece +of bread or roll, and a half-cocked revolver. + +Mr. Blake had seen them, too, and at once took the word out of his +companion’s mouth. + +“You mistake us,” he said coldly, “as well as the nature of our errand. +We are here from no motive of curiosity, as I have before said, nor +from any other which might offend or distress you. We--or rather +I--am here on business. I have a position to offer to an intelligent, +upright, enterprising young man. Your name has been given me. It was +given me before this dinner, to which I went--if Mr. Sedgwick will +pardon my plain speaking--chiefly for the purpose of making your +acquaintance. The result was what you know, and possibly now you can +understand my anxiety to see you exonerate yourself from the doubts +you yourself raised by your attitude of resistance to the proposition +made by that headlong, but well-meaning, young man of many millions, +Mr. Hammersley. I wanted to find in you the honorable characteristics +necessary to the man who is to draw an eight thousand dollars a year +salary under my eye. I still want to do this. If then you are willing +to make this whole thing plain to me--for it is not plain--not wholly +plain, Mr. Clifford--then you will find in me a friend such as few +young fellows can boast of, for I like you--I will say that--and where +I like--” + +The gesture with which he ended the sentence was almost superfluous, in +face of the change which had taken place in the aspect of the man he +addressed. Wonder, doubt, hope, and again incredulity were lost at last +in a recognition of the other’s kindly intentions toward himself, and +the prospects which they opened out before him. With a shamefaced look, +and yet with a manly acceptance of his own humiliation that was not +displeasing to his visitors, he turned about and pointing to the morsel +of bread lying on the table before them, he said to Mr. Sedgwick: + +“Do you recognize that? It is from your table, and--and--it is not the +only piece I had hidden in my pockets. I had not eaten in twenty-four +hours when I sat down to dinner this evening. I had no prospect of +another morsel for to-morrow and--and--I was afraid of eating my +fill--there were ladies--and so--and so--” + +They did not let him finish. In a flash they had both taken in the +room. Not an article which could be spared was anywhere visible. His +dress-suit was all that remained to him of former ease and luxury. That +he had retained, possibly for just such opportunities as had given +him a dinner to-night. Mr. Blake understood at last, and his iron lip +trembled. + +“Have you no friends?” he asked. “Was it necessary to go hungry?” + +“Could I ask alms or borrow what I could not pay? It was a position +I was after, and positions do not come at call. Sometimes they come +without it,” he smiled with the dawning of his old-time grace on his +handsome face, “but I find that one can see his resources go, dollar +by dollar, and finally, cent by cent, in the search for employment no +one considers necessary to a man like me. Perhaps if I had had less +pride, had been willing to take you or any one else into my confidence, +I might not have sunk to these depths of humiliation; but I had not the +confidence in men which this last half hour has given me, and I went +blundering on, hiding my needs and hoping against hope for some sort +of result to my efforts. This pistol is not mine. I did borrow this, +but I did not mean to use it, unless nature reached the point where it +could stand no more. I thought the time had come to-night when I left +your house, Mr. Sedgwick, suspected of theft. It seemed the last straw; +but--but--a woman’s look has held me back. I hesitated and--now you +know the whole,” said he; “that is, if you can understand why it was +more possible for me to brave the contumely of such a suspicion than to +open my pockets and disclose the crusts I had hidden there.” + +“I can understand,” said Mr. Sedgwick; “but the opportunity you have +given us for doing so must not be shared by others. We will undertake +your justification, but it must be made in our own way and after the +most careful consideration; eh, Mr. Blake?” + +“Most assuredly; and if Mr. Clifford will present himself at my office +early in the morning, we will first breakfast and then talk business.” + +Young Clifford could only hold out his hand, but when, his two friends +gone, he sat in contemplation of his changed prospects, one word and +one only left his lips, uttered in every inflection of tenderness, +hope, and joy. “Edith! Edith! Edith!” + +It was the name of the sweet young girl who had shown her faith in him +at the moment when his heart was lowest and despair at its culmination. + + + + + Transcriber's Notes: + + Italics are shown thus: _sloping_. + + Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained. + + Perceived typographical errors have been changed. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78750 *** diff --git a/78750-h/78750-h.htm b/78750-h/78750-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fad0ffa --- /dev/null +++ b/78750-h/78750-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10852 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Famous Mystery Stories | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h1 {font-weight: normal; + font-size: 160%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + word-spacing: 0.3em; + } + +h2 {font-weight: normal; + font-size: 130%; + margin-top: 2em; + word-spacing: 0.3em; + } + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + + +hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} + +hr.r5 {width: 80%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} +hr.r65 {width: 15%; margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 42.5%; margin-right: 42.5%;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdrb {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} +.tdlb {text-align: left; vertical-align: bottom;} +.tdlt {text-align: left; vertical-align: top;} + + + +.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 */ + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 90%; +} + +.blockquot2 { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 100%; +} + + +.up {font-size: 180%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 140%;} +.large {font-size: 120%;} +.more {font-size: 80%;} + + +.c {text-align: center;} + +.sp {word-spacing: 0.3em;} + +.r {text-align: right; + margin-right: 2em;} + +.gtb +{ + letter-spacing: 3em; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center; + margin-right: -2em; + +} + +.bbox {border: 2px solid; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; + padding: .7em;} + +.bbox2 {border: double; + margin-top: 4em; +margin-left: 10%; +margin-right: 10%;} + + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + + +/* Footnotes */ + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 75%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; font-size:90%;} +.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; + margin-top:3em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; + border: .3em double gray; + padding: 1em; +} +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78750 ***</div> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover"> +</div> + + +<h1>FAMOUS MYSTERY STORIES</h1> + +<div class="bbox"> +<p class="c xlarge sp"><i>The “Mystery” Library</i></p> + + +<p class="c more sp">EDITED BY</p> + +<p class="c sp">J. WALKER McSPADDEN</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p> +FAMOUS GHOST STORIES<br> +FAMOUS PSYCHIC STORIES<br> +FAMOUS DETECTIVE STORIES<br> +FAMOUS MYSTERY STORIES<br> +</p> + +<p>A Library of quite unusual tales +culled from the most powerful writers, +chiefly American, English, and French. +Each book contains special introduction.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="c"><span class="smcap">Thomas Y. Crowell Co., New York</span></p></div> + +<div class="bbox2"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="c sp up"> +FAMOUS<br> +MYSTERY STORIES</p> + +<p class="c p4"> +<span class="more sp">EDITED BY</span><br> +<span class="large">J. WALKER McSPADDEN</span><br> + +<span class="more"> +Editor of “Famous Ghost Stories,” “Famous<br> +Psychic Stories,” “Famous Detective<br> +Stories,” etc.</span></p> + +<p class="c sp p6"> +<span class="more sp">NEW YORK</span><br> +<span class="large sp">THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY</span><br> +<span class="more">PUBLISHERS</span> +</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="c p6 more"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1922,<br> +By</span> THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY</p> + +<p class="c p4 more">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA +</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="c xlarge">CONTENTS</p> +</div> + +<table> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"></td> + <td class="tdl"></td> + <td class="tdr"><span class="more">PAGE</span></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdlt"><span class="smcap">The Spectre of Tappington</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Richard Harris Barham</i></td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c1">1</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Mysterious Sketch</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Erckmann-Chatrian</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c2">34</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Deserted House</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Ernest T. W. Hoffmann</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c3">58</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Adelantado of the Seven Cities</span></td> + <td class="tdlb"><i>Washington Irving</i></td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c4">86</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Pipe</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Anonymous</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c5">110</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Upper Berth</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>F. Marion Crawford</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c6">139</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Diamond Lens</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Fitz-James O’Brien</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c7">172</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Horla</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Guy de Maupassant</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c8">210</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Mummy’s Foot</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Théophile Gautier</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c9">248</a></td></tr> + +<tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Thief</span></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Anna Katharine Green</i></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#c10">266</a></td></tr> + + +</table> + +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</span></p> + +<p class="c xlarge">INTRODUCTION</p> +</div> + +<hr class="r65"> + +<p>“Famous Mystery Stories” completes a tetralogy +begun a few years ago with “Ghost Stories” and +continued with “Detective” and “Psychic Stories.” +The responsive chord that each successive volume +has struck has emboldened the editor to continue a +line of research which has revealed many fascinating +channels. A mass of enticing material has been +brought to light, which would fill many books of the +present size; and the problem has been one of selection +and elimination. The group of four books now +complete under the title of the “The Mystery Library,” +while in no sense an anthology of the subject, +will be found to contain many typical examples of +the bizarre and unusual, culled from the ablest pens +of America and Europe.</p> + +<p>It is interesting to note the different methods of +approach to your true mystery story. Every such +tale conceals a definite problem which may or may +not be solved; and when tested in the crucible of +widely divergent minds, the result is of value from +more than one aspect.</p> + +<p>In the present volume the reader will find representative +stories from American, English, Irish, +French and German writers. Aside from the individual +merit of each tale, they afford a striking study +in contrasts, both in style and method of approach. +By way of illustration, no two stories could be more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</span> +dissimilar in treatment than the French and German +examples herewith included. “The Mysterious +Sketch” by Erckmann-Chatrian, like its successor, +“The Deserted House,” by Hoffmann, is an excellent +type of pure mystery tale, with the mystery unexplained; +but there the resemblance ends. The +French joint authors are concerned only with a +hypothetical case. An artist draws a fanciful sketch +which proves to be the depiction of an actual tragedy. +Its effect upon the artist himself, rather than the +how and why of the drawing, is the concern of the +story. Hoffmann’s tale also presents a definite problem +which is only half explained. It is a fantasy +with a touch of psychology, and affords its own +raison d’être. “Hoffmann preferred to remain a +riddle to himself,” wrote a friend, “a riddle which +he always dreaded to have solved.”</p> + +<p>Three stories involving a vein of humor are “The +Spectre of Tappington,” that delightful skit from +“The Ingoldsby Legends”; Irving’s tale of the +Adelantado who sought the lost cities of the Spanish +Main; and “The Pipe.” Each may be commended +as an after-dinner solace, “The Pipe” providing a +pleasant “smoke” although not altogether harmless +in its effects. It is by our old friend, Anonymous, +who has given us some of the best examples of literature +in every age. Irving on his part is always +like a draught of ruddy wine; and in the adventures +of the misguided Adelantado we are reminded of +our old friend Rip Van Winkle. The author himself +is not concerned with a mystery per se, but is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</span> +indulging in a characteristic flight of fancy tinged +with a quiet, ironical humor.</p> + +<p>By way of contrast come a grisly tale of the sea +from the masterly pen of F. Marion Crawford. In +“The Upper Berth” he weaves a mystery of horror +and haunting fear. It is redolent of stagnant seawater +and slimy sea-weeds. He is a hardened reader +indeed who can read a yarn such as this without a +shudder. And yet the reader is led deliberately on +to the final climax. Unlike other mysteries it does +not depend for its power upon the unexpected. The +narrator says in effect, “Gentlemen, prepare for a +shock!”—and his audience are shocked nevertheless.</p> + +<p>“The Diamond Lens,” by Fitz-James O’Brien, +is a classic of imagination raised to the <i>nth</i> degree. +Through the manufacture of a microscope of incalculable +power, its possessor is enabled to discover +worlds far beyond the ken of man, and to find therein +lovely beings. The height of the fantastic is reached +when the scientist falls in love with the tiny animalcule—truly +a hopeless passion! On re-reading this +story one is struck by the fact that even murder +itself can be held subordinate to other elements in +a piece of fiction.</p> + +<p>De Maupassant’s strange tale, “The Horla,” +carries with it more than a literary interest. It has +a certain autobiographical flavor. De Maupassant +wielded one of the most powerful and versatile pens +in France of the last half century, and yet had a +morbid, haunting fear of going mad—a fear which +was actually realized. “The Horla” is one of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</span> +first vivid presentiments of a sinister personality +overshadowing his own. In another story, “Lui,” +not here included, he also reveals evidences of this +overmastering terror. “I am afraid of the walls, +of the furniture, of the familiar objects which seem +to me to assume a kind of animal life. Above all +I fear the horrible confusion of my thought, of my +reason escaping, entangled and scattered by an invisible +and mysterious anguish.”</p> + +<p>A mystery story of more conventional type is that +one by Anna Katharine Green, one of America’s +most prolific writers in this vein. In “The Thief,” +we have an example of circumstantial evidence, +which wellnigh brings its victim to social and spiritual +ruin. He is saved only by the faith of those who +believe in him despite appearances.</p> + +<p>“The Mummy’s Foot,” by Gautier, is a delightful +example of Gallic humor. Nothing could be more +fanciful than the picture of the long-dead Egyptian +princess coming to reclaim her foot, which was being +used as a paper weight, and the assumption of its +owner that he was thereby entitled to claim her hand.</p> + +<p>In the preparation of this work the editor has +been constantly indebted to publishers and writers +for the use of special material. Thanks are particularly +due to The Macmillan Company and the heirs +of F. Marion Crawford for permission to use his +work; and to Dodd, Mead & Company and Anna +Katharine Green, for the use of her story.</p> + +<p class="r large"> +J. W. McS.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Montclair, N. J.</span><br> +   March 1, 1922. +</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c1">THE SPECTRE OF TAPPINGTON</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Richard Harris Barham</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>From “The Ingoldsby Legends, by Thomas Ingoldsby Esq.”</p></div> + + +<p>“It is very odd, though; what can have become of +them?” said Charles Seaforth, as he peeped under +the valance of an old-fashioned bedstead, in an old-fashioned +apartment of a still more old-fashioned +manor-house; “’tis confoundedly odd, and I can’t +make it out at all. Why, Barney, where are they?—and +where the devil are you?”</p> + +<p>No answer was returned to this appeal; and the +lieutenant, who was, in the main, a reasonable person—at +least as reasonable a person as any young +gentleman of twenty-two in “the service” can fairly +be expected to be—cooled when he reflected that his +servant could scarcely reply extempore to a summons +which it was impossible he should hear.</p> + +<p>An application to the bell was the considerate result; +and the footsteps of as tight a lad as ever put +pipe-clay to belt, sounded along the gallery.</p> + +<p>“Come in!” said his master. An ineffectual attempt +upon the door reminded Mr. Seaforth that he +had locked himself in. “By Heaven! this is the oddest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span> +thing of all,” said he, as he turned the key and +admitted Mr. Maguire into his dormitory.</p> + +<p>“Barney, where are my pantaloons?”</p> + +<p>“Is it the breeches?” asked the valet, casting an +inquiring eye round the apartment—“is it the +breeches, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; what have you done with them?”</p> + +<p>“Sure then your honor had them on when you went +to bed, and it’s hereabout they’ll be, I’ll be bail;” +and Barney lifted a fashionable tunic from a cane-backed +arm-chair, proceeding in his examination. +But the search was vain: there was the tunic aforesaid; +there was a smart-looking kerseymere waistcoat; +but the most important article of all in a gentleman’s +wardrobe was still wanting.</p> + +<p>“Where can they be?” asked the master, with a +strong accent on the auxiliary verb.</p> + +<p>“Sorrow a know I knows,” said the man.</p> + +<p>“It must have been the devil, then, after all, who +has been here and carried them off!” cried Seaforth, +staring full into Barney’s face.</p> + +<p>Mr. Maguire was not devoid of the superstition +of his countrymen, still he looked as if he did not +quite subscribe to the <i>sequitur</i>.</p> + +<p>His master read incredulity in his countenance. +“Why, I tell you, Barney, I put them there, on that +arm-chair, when I got into bed; and, by heaven! I +distinctly saw the ghost of the old fellow they told +me of, come in at midnight, put on my pantaloons, +and walk away with them.”</p> + +<p>“May be so,” was the cautious reply.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> + +<p>“I thought, of course, it was a dream; but then—where +the devil are the breeches?”</p> + +<p>The question was more easily asked than +answered. Barney renewed his search, while the +lieutenant folded his arms, and, leaning against the +toilet, sank into a reverie.</p> + +<p>“After all, it must be some trick of my laughter-loving +cousins,” said Seaforth.</p> + +<p>“Ah! then, the ladies!” chimed in Mr. Maguire, +though the observation was not addressed to him; +“and will it be Miss Caroline or Miss Fanny, that’s +stole your honor’s things?”</p> + +<p>“I hardly know what to think of it,” pursued the +bereaved lieutenant, still speaking in soliloquy, with +his eye resting dubiously on the chamber-door. “I +locked myself in, that’s certain; and—but there must +be some other entrance to the room—pooh! I remember—the +private staircase; how could I be such +a fool?” and he crossed the chamber to where a low +oaken doorcase was dimly visible in a distant corner. +He paused before it. Nothing now interfered to +screen it from observation; but it bore tokens of having +been at some earlier period concealed by tapestry, +remains of which yet clothed the walls on either side of +the portal.</p> + +<p>“This way they must have come,” said Seaforth; +“I wish with all my heart I had caught them!”</p> + +<p>“Och! the kittens!” sighed Mr. Barney Maguire.</p> + +<p>But the mystery was yet as far from being solved +as before. True, there <i>was</i> the “other door”; but +then that, too, on examination, was even more firmly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span> +secured than the one which opened on the gallery—two +heavy bolts on the inside effectually prevented +any coup de main on the lieutenant’s bivouac from +that quarter. He was more puzzled than ever; nor +did the minutest inspection of the walls and floor +throw any light upon the subject; one thing only was +clear—the breeches were gone! “It is <i>very</i> singular,” +said the lieutenant.</p> + +<p class="gtb">******</p> + +<p>Tappington (generally called Tapton) Everard is +an antiquated but commodious manor-house in the +eastern division of the county of Kent. A former +proprietor had been high-sheriff in the days of Elizabeth, +and many a dark and dismal tradition was +yet extant of the licentiousness of his life, and the +enormity of his offenses. The Glen, which the keeper’s +daughter was seen to enter, but never known to +quit, still frowns darkly as of yore; while an ineradicable +bloodstain on the oaken stair yet bids defiance +to the united energies of soap and sand. But it +is with one particular apartment that a deed of more +especial atrocity is said to be connected. A stranger +guest—so runs the legend—arrived unexpectedly at +the mansion of the “bad Sir Giles.” They met in apparent +friendship; but the ill-concealed scowl on their +master’s brow told the domestics that the visit was +not a welcome one; the banquet, however, was not +spared; the wine cup circulated freely—too freely, +perhaps, for sounds of discord at length reached the +ears of even the excluded serving-men, as they were +doing their best to imitate their betters in the lower<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span> +hall. Alarmed, some of them ventured to approach +the parlor; one an old and favored retainer of the +house, went so far as to break in upon his master’s +privacy. Sir Giles, already high in oath, fiercely enjoined +his absence, and he retired; not, however, before +he had distinctly heard from the stranger’s lips +a menace that “there was that within his pockets +which could disprove the knight’s right to issue that +or any other command within the walls of Tapton.”</p> + +<p>The intrusion, though momentary, seemed to have +produced a beneficial effect; the voices of the disputants +fell, and the conversation was carried on +thenceforth in a more subdued tone, till, as evening +closed in, the domestics, when summoned to attend +with lights, found not only cordiality restored, but +that a still deeper carouse was meditated. Fresh +stoups, and from the choicest bins, were produced; +nor was it till at a late, or rather early hour, that +the revelers sought their chambers.</p> + +<p>The one allotted to the stranger occupied the first +floor of the eastern angle of the building, and had +once been the favorite apartment of Sir Giles himself. +Scandal ascribed this preference to the facility +which a private staircase, communicating with the +grounds, had afforded him, in the old knight’s time, +of following his wicked courses unchecked by parental +observation; a consideration which ceased to be +of weight when the death of his father left him uncontrolled +master of his estate and actions. From +that period Sir Giles had established himself in what +were called the “state apartments,” and the “oaken<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span> +chamber” was rarely tenated, save on occasions of +extraordinary festivity, or when the yule log drew +an unusually large accession of guests around the +Christmas hearth.</p> + +<p>On this eventful night it was prepared for the unknown +visitor, who sought his couch heated and inflamed +from his midnight orgies, and in the morning +was found in his bed a swollen and blackened +corpse. No marks of violence appeared upon the +body; but the livid hue of the lips, and certain dark-colored +spots visible on the skin, aroused suspicions +which those who entertained them were too timid to +express. Apoplexy, induced by the excesses of the +preceding night, Sir Giles’s confidential leech pronounced +to be the cause of his sudden dissolution. +The body was buried in peace; and though some +shook their heads as they witnessed the haste with +which the funeral rites were hurried on, none ventured +to murmur. Other events arose to distract the +attention of the retainers; men’s minds became occupied +by the stirring politics of the day; while the +near approach of that formidable armada, so vainly +arrogating to itself a title which the very elements +joined with human valor to disprove, soon interfered +to weaken, if not obliterate, all remembrance of the +nameless stranger who had died within the walls of +Tapton Everard.</p> + +<p>Years rolled on: the “bad Sir Giles” had himself +long since gone to his account, the last, as it was believed, +of his immediate line; though a few of the +older tenants were sometimes heard to speak of an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span> +elder brother, who had disappeared in early life, and +never inherited the estate. Rumors, too, of his having +left a son in foreign lands, were at one time rife; +but they died away, nothing occurring to support +them; the property passed unchallenged to a collateral +branch of the family, and the secret, if secret +there were, was buried in Denton churchyard, in the +lonely grave of the mysterious stranger. One circumstance +alone occurred, after a long-intervening +period, to revive the memory of these transactions. +Some workmen employed in grubbing an old plantation, +for the purpose of raising on its site a modern +shrubbery, dug up, in the execution of their task, +the mildewed remnants of what seemed to have been +once a garment. On more minute inspection, enough +remained of silken slashes and a coarse embroidery, +to identify the relics as having once formed part +of a pair of trunk hose; while a few papers which +fell from them, altogether illegible from damp and +age, were by the unlearned rustics conveyed to the +then owner of the estate.</p> + +<p>Whether the squire was more successful in deciphering +them was never known; he certainly never +alluded to their contents; and little would have been +thought of the matter but for the inconvenient memory +of an old woman, who declared she heard her +grandfather say, that when the “stranger guest” was +poisoned, though all the rest of his clothes were +there, his breeches, the supposed repository of the +supposed documents, could never be found. The +master of Tapton Everard smiled when he heard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span> +Dame Jones’s hint of deeds which might impeach the +validity of his own title in favor of some unknown +descendant of some unknown heir; and the story was +rarely alluded to, save by one or two miracle-mongers, +who had heard that others had seen the ghost +of Old Sir Giles, in his night-cap, issue from the +postern, enter the adjoining copse, and wring his +shadowy hands in agony, as he seemed to search +vainly for something hidden among the evergreens. +The stranger’s deathroom had, of course, been occasionally +haunted from the time of his decease; but +the periods of visitation had latterly become very +rare—even Mrs. Botherby, the housekeeper, being +forced to admit that during her long sojourn at the +manor, she had never “met with anything worse than +herself”; though, as the old lady afterwards added +upon more mature reflection, “I must say I think I +saw the devil once.”</p> + +<p>Such was the legend attached to Tapton Everard, +and such the story which the lively Caroline Ingoldsby +detailed to her equally mercurial cousin, +Charles Seaforth, lieutenant in the Hon. East India +Company’s second regiment of Bombay Fencibles, as +arm-in-arm they promenaded a gallery decked with +some dozen grim-looking ancestral portraits, and, +among others, with that of the redoubted Sir Giles +himself. The gallant commander had that very +morning paid his first visit to the house of his maternal +uncle, after an absence of several years passed +with his regiment on the arid plains of Hindoostan, +whence he was now returned on a three years’ furlough.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span> +He had gone out a boy—he returned a man; +but the impression made upon his youthful fancy by +his favorite cousin remained unimpaired, and to +Tapton he directed his steps, even before he sought +the home of his widowed mother—comforting himself +in this breach of filial decorum by the reflection +that, as the manor was so little out of his way, it +would be unkind to pass, as it were, the door of +his relatives, without just looking in for a few +hours.</p> + +<p>But he found his uncle as hospitable, and his cousin +more charming than ever; and the looks of one, and +the requests of the other, soon precluded the possibility +of refusing to lengthen the “few hours” into a few +days, though the house was at the moment full of +visitors.</p> + +<p>The Peterses were there from Ramsgate; and +Mr., Mrs., and the two Miss Simpkinsons, from +Bath, had come to pass a month with the family; +and Tom Ingoldsby had brought down his college +friend, the Honorable Augustus Sucklethumbkin, +with his groom and pointers, to take a fortnight’s +shooting. And then there was Mrs. Ogleton, the +rich young widow, with her large black eyes, who, +people did say, was setting her cap at the young +squire, though Mrs. Botherby did not believe it; +and, above all, there was Mademoiselle Pauline, her +femme de chambre, who “mon Dieu’d” everything +and everybody, and cried “Quelle horreur!” at Mrs. +Botherby’s cap. In short, to use the last-named and +much-respected lady’s own expression, the house was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> +“choke-full” to the very attics—all save the “oaken +chamber,” which, as the lieutenant expressed a most +magnanimous disregard of ghosts, was forthwith appropriated +to his particular accommodation. Mr. +Maguire meanwhile was fain to share the apartment +of Oliver Dobbs, the squire’s own man; a jocular +proposal of joint occupancy having been first indignantly +rejected by “Mademoiselle,” though preferred +with the “laste taste in life” of Mr. Barney’s +most insinuating brogue.</p> + +<p class="gtb">******</p> + +<p>“Come, Charles, the urn is absolutely getting cold; +your breakfast will be quite spoiled; what can have +made you so idle?” Such was the morning salutation +of Miss Ingoldsby to the militaire as he entered +the breakfast-room half-an-hour after the latest of +the party.</p> + +<p>“A pretty gentleman, truly, to make an appointment +with,” chimed in Miss Frances. “What is +become of our ramble to the rocks before breakfast?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! the young men never think of keeping a +promise now,” said Mrs. Peters, a little ferret-faced +woman with underdone eyes.</p> + +<p>“When I was a young man,” said Mr. Peters, “I +remember I always made a point of——”</p> + +<p>“Pray, how long ago was that?” asked Mr. Simpkinson +from Bath.</p> + +<p>“Why, sir, when I married Mrs. Peters, I was—let +me see—I was——”</p> + +<p>“Do pray hold your tongue, P., and eat your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span> +breakfast!” interrupted his better half, who had a +mortal horror of chronological references; “it’s very +rude to tease people with your family affairs.”</p> + +<p>The lieutenant had by this time taken his seat in +silence—a good-humored nod, and a glance, half-smiling, +half-inquisitive, being the extent of his salutation. +Smitten as he was, and in the immediate +presence of her who had made so large a hole in his +heart, his manner was evidently distrait, which the +fair Caroline in her secret soul attributed to his being +solely occupied by her agrémens: how would she have +bridled had she known that they only shared his +meditations with a pair of breeches!</p> + +<p>Charles drank his coffee and spiked some half-dozen +eggs, darting occasionally a penetrating glance +at the ladies, in hope of detecting the supposed +waggery by the evidence of some furtive smile or +conscious look. But in vain; not a dimple moved +indicative of roguery, nor did the slightest elevation +of eyebrow rise confirmative of his suspicions. Hints +and insinuations passed unheeded—more particular +inquiries were out of the question—the subject was +unapproachable.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, “patent cords” were just the +thing for a morning’s ride; and, breakfast ended, +away cantered the party over the downs, till, every +faculty absorbed by the beauties, animate and inanimate, +which surrounded him, Lieutenant Seaforth +of the Bombay Fencibles bestowed no more thought +upon his breeches than if he had been born on the +top of Ben Lomond.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></p> + +<p>Another night had passed away; the sun rose brilliantly, +forming with his level beams a splendid rainbow +in the far-off west, whither the heavy cloud, +which for the last two hours had been pouring its +waters on the earth, was now flying before him.</p> + +<p>“Ah! then, and it’s little good it’ll be the claning +of ye,” apostrophized Mr. Barney Maguire, as he +deposited, in front of his master’s toilet, a pair of +“bran new” jockey boots, one of Hoby’s primest fits, +which the lieutenant had purchased in his way +through town. On that very morning had they come +for the first time under the valet’s depurating hand, +so little soiled, indeed, from the turfy ride of the preceding +day, that a less scrupulous domestic might +perhaps have considered the application of “Warren’s +Matchless,” or oxalic acid, altogether superfluous. +Not so, Barney: with the nicest care had he +removed the slightest impurity from each polished +surface, and there they stood, rejoicing in their sable +radiance. No wonder a pang shot across Mr. Maguire’s +breast, as he thought on the work now cut +out for them, so different from the light labors of +the day before; no wonder he murmured with a sigh, +as the scarce dried window-panes disclosed a road +now inch deep in mud. “Ah! then, it’s little good +the claning of ye!”—for well had he learned in the +hall below that eight miles of a stiff clay soil lay +between the manor and Bolsover Abbey, whose picturesque +ruins, “Like ancient Rome, majestic in decay,” +the party had determined to explore. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> +master had already commenced dressing, and the +man was fitting straps upon a light pair of crane-necked +spurs, when his hand was arrested by the old +question—“Barney, where are the breeches?”</p> + +<p>They were nowhere to be found!</p> + +<p>Mr. Seaforth descended that morning, whip in +hand, and equipped in a handsome green riding-frock, +but no “breeches and boots to match” were +there; loose jean trousers, surmounting a pair of diminutive +Wellingtons, embraced, somewhat incongruously, +his nether man, vice the “patent cords,” returned, +like yesterday’s pantaloons, absent without +leave. The “top-boots” had a holiday.</p> + +<p>“A fine morning after the rain,” said Mr. Simpkinson +from Bath.</p> + +<p>“Just the thing for the ’ops,” said Mr. Peters. “I +remember when I was a boy—”</p> + +<p>“Do hold your tongue, P.,” said Mrs. Peters—advice +which that exemplary matron was in the constant +habit of administering to “her P.,” as she called him, +whenever he prepared to vent his reminiscences. +Her precise reason for this it would be difficult to +determine, unless indeed, the story be true which a +little bird had whispered into Mrs. Botherby’s ear—Mr. +Peters, though now a wealthy man, had received +a liberal education at a charity school, and was +apt to recur to the days of his muffin-cap and leathers. +As usual, he took his wife’s hint in good part, and +“paused in his reply.”</p> + +<p>“A glorious day for the ruins!” said young Ingoldsby.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span> +“But Charles, what the deuce are you +about? you don’t mean to ride through our lanes +in such toggery as that?”</p> + +<p>“Lassy me!” said Miss Julia Simpkinson, “won’t +you be very wet?”</p> + +<p>“You had better take Tom’s cab,” quoth the squire.</p> + +<p>But this proposition was at once overruled; Mrs. +Ogleton had already nailed the cab, a vehicle of all +others the best adapted for a snug flirtation.</p> + +<p>“Or drive Miss Julia in the phaeton?” No; that +was the post of Mr. Peters, who, indifferent as an +equestrian, had acquired some fame as a whip while +travelling through the midland countries for the firm +of Bagshaw, Snivelby, and Grimes.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, I shall ride with my cousins,” said +Charles, with as much nonchalance as he could assume—and +he did so; Mr. Ingoldsby, Mrs. Peters, +Mr. Simpkinson from Bath, and his eldest daughter +with her album, following in the family coach. The +gentleman-commoner “voted the affair d—d slow,” +and declined the party altogether in favor of the +gamekeeper and a cigar. “There was ‘no fun’ in +looking at old houses!” Mrs. Simpkinson preferred +a short séjour in the still-room with Mrs. Botherby, +who had promised to initiate her in that grand arcanum, +the transmutation of gooseberry jam into +Guava jelly.</p> + +<p class="gtb">******</p> + +<p>But what had become of Seaforth and his fair Caroline +all this while? Why, it so happened that they +had been simultaneously stricken with the picturesque<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> +appearance of one of those high and pointed arches, +which that eminent antiquary, Mr. Horseley Curties, +has described in his “Ancient records,” as “a Gothic +window of the Saxon order”; and then the ivy clustered +so thickly and so beautifully on the other side, +that they went round to look at that; and then their +proximity deprived it of half its effect, and so they +walked across to a little knoll, a hundred yards off, +and in crossing a small ravine, they came to what +in Ireland they call “a bad step,” and Charles had to +carry his cousin over it; and then when they had to +come back, she would not give him the trouble again +for the world, so they followed a better but more +circuitous route, and there were hedges and ditches +in the way, and stiles to get over and gates to get +through, so that an hour or more had elapsed before +they were able to rejoin the party.</p> + +<p>“Lassy me!” said Miss Julia Simpkinson, “how +long you have been gone!”</p> + +<p>And so they had. The remark was a very just as +well as a very natural one. They were gone a long +while, and a nice cosy chat they had; and what do +you think it was about, my dear miss?</p> + +<p>“O, lassy me! love no doubt, and the moon, and +eyes, and nightingales, and——”</p> + +<p>Stay, stay, my sweet young lady; do not let the +fervor of your feelings run away with you! I do not +pretend to say, indeed, that one or more of these +pretty subjects might not have been introduced; but +the most important and leading topic of the conference +was—Lieutenant Seaforth’s breeches.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p> + +<p>“Caroline,” said Charles, “I have had some very +odd dreams since I have been at Tappington.”</p> + +<p>“Dreams, have you?” smiled the young lady, arching +her taper neck like a swan in pluming. “Dreams, +have you?”</p> + +<p>“Ay, dreams—or dream, perhaps, I should say; +for, though repeated, it was still the same. And +what do you imagine was its subject?”</p> + +<p>“It is impossible for me to divine,” said the +tongue:—“I have not the least difficulty in guessing,” +said the eye, as plainly as ever eye spoke.</p> + +<p>“I dreamt—of your great-grandfather.”</p> + +<p>There was a change in the glance—“My great-grandfather?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the old Sir Giles, or Sir John, you told me +about the other day: he walked into my bedroom in +his short cloak of murrey-colored velvet, his long +rapier, and his Raleigh-looking hat and feather, just +as the picture represents him; but with one exception.”</p> + +<p>“And what was that?”</p> + +<p>“Why, his lower extremities, which were visible, +were those of a skeleton.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Well, after taking a turn or two about the room, +and looking round him with a wistful air, he came +to the bed’s foot, stared at me in a manner impossible +to describe—and then he—he laid hold of my pantaloons; +whipped his long, bony legs into them in a +twinkling; and, strutting up to the glass, seemed to +view himself in it with great complacency. I tried<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span> +to speak, but in vain. The effort, however, seemed +to excite his attention; for, wheeling about, he +showed me the grimmest-looking death’s head you +can well imagine, and with an indescribable grin +strutted out of the room.”</p> + +<p>“Absurd! Charles. How can you talk such nonsense?”</p> + +<p>“But, Caroline—the breeches are really gone.”</p> + +<p class="gtb">******</p> + +<p>On the following morning, contrary to his usual +custom, Seaforth was the first person in the breakfast +parlor. A serious, not to say anxious, expression +was visible upon his good-humored countenance, +and his mouth was fast buttoning itself up for an +incipient whistle, when little Flo, a tiny spaniel of +the Blenheim breed—the pet object of Miss Julia +Simpkinson’s affections—bounced out from beneath +a sofa, and began to bark at—his pantaloons.</p> + +<p>They were cleverly “built” of a light-gray mixture, +a broad stripe of the most vivid scarlet traversing +each seam in a perpendicular direction from hip +to ankle—in short, the regimental costume of the +Royal Bombay Fencibles. The animal, educated in +the country, had never seen such a pair of breeches in +her life—Omne ignotum pro magnifico! The scarlet +streak, inflamed as it was by the reflection of the +fire, seemed to act on Flora’s nerves as the same color +does on those of bulls and turkeys; she advanced at +the pas de charge, and her vociferation, like her +amazement, was unbounded. A sound kick from the +disgusted officer changed its character, and induced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span> +a retreat at the very moment when the mistress of +the pugnacious quadruped entered to the rescue.</p> + +<p>“Lassy me! Flo, what <i>is</i> the matter?” cried the +sympathizing lady, with a scrutinizing glance levelled +at the gentleman.</p> + +<p>It might as well have lighted on a feather bed. His +air of imperturbable unconsciousness defied examination; +and as he would not, and Flora could not, expound, +that injured individual was compelled to +pocket up her wrongs. Others of the household soon +dropped in, and clustered round the board dedicated +to the most sociable of meals; the urn was paraded +“hissing hot,” and the cups which “cheer, but not +inebriate,” steamed redolent of hyson and pekoe; +muffins and marmalade, newspapers and finnan +haddies, left little room for observation on the character +of Charles’s warlike “turn-out.” At length a +look from Caroline, followed by a smile that nearly +ripened to a titter, caused him to turn abruptly and +address his neighbor. It was Miss Simpkinson, who, +was deeply engaged in sipping her tea and turning +over her album. The entreaties of the company +were of course urgent. Mr. Peters, “who liked +verses,” was especially persevering, and Sappho, at +length compliant. After a preparatory hem, and a +glance at the mirror to ascertain that her look was +sufficiently sentimental, the poetess began:—</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“There is a calm, a holy feeling,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Vulgar minds can never know,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the bosom softly stealing,—</div> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>Chasten’d grief, delicious woe!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh! how sweet at eve regaining</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Yon lone tower’s sequester’d shade—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sadly mute and uncomplaining——”</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>—“Yow!—yeough!—yeough!—yow!—yow!” yelled +a hapless sufferer from underneath the table. It was +an unlucky hour for quadrupeds; and if “every dog +will have his day,” he could not have selected a more +unpropitious one than this. Mrs. Ogleton, too, had +a pet—a favorite pug—whose squab figure, black +muzzle, and tortuosity of tail, that curled like a head +of celery in a salad-bowl, bespoke his Dutch extraction. +Yow! yow! yow! continued the brute—a chorus +in which Flo instantly joined. Sooth to say, pug +had more reason to express his dissatisfaction than +was given him by the muse of Simpkinson; the other +only barked for company. Scarcely had the poetess +got through her first stanza, when Tom Ingoldsby, in +the enthusiasm of the moment, became so lost in the +material world, that, in his abstraction, he unwarily +laid his hand on the cock of the urn. Quivering with +emotion, he gave it such an unlucky twist, that the +full stream of its scalding contents descended on the +gingerbread hide of the unlucky Cupid. The confusion +was complete; the whole economy of the table +disarranged—the company broke up in the most admired +disorder—and “vulgar minds will never +know” anything more of Miss Simpkinson’s ode till +they peruse it in some forthcoming Annual.</p> + +<p>Seaforth profited by the confusion to take the delinquent +who had caused this “stramash” by the arm, +and to lead him to the lawn, where he had a word<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span> +or two for his private ear. The conference between +the young gentlemen was neither brief in its duration +nor unimportant in its results. The subject was what +the lawyers call tripartite, embracing the information +that Charles Seaforth was over head and ears in love +with Tom Ingoldsby’s sister; secondly, that the lady +had referred him to “papa” for his sanction; thirdly +and lastly, his nightly visitations, and consequent +bereavement. At the two first items Tom smiled +auspiciously; at the last he burst out into an absolute +guffaw.</p> + +<p>“Steal your breeches! Miss Bailey over again, +by Jove,” shouted Ingoldsby. “But a gentleman, you +say—and Sir Giles too. I am not sure, Charles, +whether I ought not to call you out for aspersing +the honor of the family.”</p> + +<p>“Laugh as you will, Tom—be as incredulous as +you please. One fact is incontestable—the breeches +are gone! Look here—I am reduced to my regimentals; +and if these go, to-morrow I must borrow +of you!”</p> + +<p>Rochefoucault says, there is something in the misfortunes +of our very best friends that does not displease +us; assuredly we can, most of us, laugh at +their petty inconveniences, till called upon to supply +them. Tom composed his feature on the instant, and +replied with more gravity, as well as with an expletive, +which, if my Lord Mayor had been within hearing, +might have cost him five shillings.</p> + +<p>“There is something very queer in this, after all. +The clothes, you say, have positively disappeared.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span> +Somebody is playing you a trick; and, ten to one, your +servant has a hand in it. By the way, I heard something +yesterday of his kicking up a bobbery in the +kitchen, and seeing a ghost, or something of that +kind, himself. Depend upon it, Barney is in the +plot.”</p> + +<p>It now struck the lieutenant at once, that the +usually buoyant spirits of his attendant had of late +been materially sobered down, his loquacity obviously +circumscribed, and that he, the said lieutenant, had +actually rung his bell three several times that very +morning before he could procure his attendance. +Mr. Maguire was forthwith summoned, and underwent +a close examination. The “bobbery” was easily +explained.</p> + +<p>Mr. Barney had seen a ghost.</p> + +<p>“A what? you blockhead!” asked Tom Ingoldsby.</p> + +<p>“Sure then, and it’s meself will tell your honor the +rights of it,” said the ghost-seer. “Meself and Miss +Pauline, sir,—or Miss Pauline and meself, for the +ladies comes first anyhow,—we got tired of the hobstroppylous +scrimmaging among the ould servants, +that didn’t know a joke when they seen one; and we +went out to look at the comet—that’s the rorybory-alehouse, +they calls him in this country—and we +walked upon the lawn—and divil of any alehouse +there was there at all; and Miss Pauline said it was +bekase of the shrubbery maybe, and why wouldn’t we +see it better beyonst the trees? and so we went to the +trees, but sorrow a comet did meself see there, barring +a big ghost instead of it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span></p> + +<p>“A ghost? And what sort of a ghost, Barney?”</p> + +<p>“Och, then, divil a lie I’ll tell your honor. A tall +ould gentlemen he was, all in white, with a shovel on +the shoulder of him, and a big torch in his fist—though +what he wanted with that it’s meself can’t tell, +for his eyes like gig-lamps, let alone the moon and +the comet, which wasn’t there at all—and ‘Barney,’ +says he to me—’cause why he knew me—‘Barney,’ +says he, ‘what is it you’re doing with the colleen +there, Barney?’—Divil a word did I say. Miss +Pauline screeched, and cried murther in French, and +ran off with herself; and of course meself was in a +mighty hurry after the lady, and had no time to stop +palavering with him any way: so I dispersed at once, +and the ghost vanished in a flame of fire!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Maguire’s account was received with avowed +incredulity by both gentlemen; but Barney stuck to +his text with unflinching pertinacity. A reference +to Mademoiselle was suggested, but abandoned, as +neither party had a taste for delicate investigations.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what, Seaforth,” said Ingoldsby, +after Barney had received his dismissal, “that there +is a trick here, is evident; and Barney’s vision may +possibly be a part of it. Whether he is most knave +or fool, you best know. At all events, I will sit up +with you to-night, and see if I can convert my ancestor +into a visiting acquaintance. Meanwhile your +finger on your lip!”</p> + +<p class="gtb">******</p> + +<p>Gladly would I grace my tale with recent horror, +and therefore I do beseech the “gentle reader” to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> +believe, that if all the details to this mysterious +narrative are not in strict keeping, he will ascribe +it only to the disgraceful innovations of modern +degeneracy upon the sober and dignified habits of +our ancestors. I can introduce him, it is true, into +an old and high-roofed chamber, its walls covered +on three sides with black oak wainscoting, adorned +with carvings of fruit and flowers long anterior to +those of Grinling Gibbons; the fourth side is clothed +with a curious remnant of dingy tapestry, once elucidatory +of some Scriptural history, but of which not +even Mrs. Botherby could determine. Mr. Simpkinson, +who had examined it carefully, inclined to +believe the principal figure to be either Bathsheba, +or Daniel in the lion’s den; while Tom Ingoldsby +decided in favor of the King of Bashan. All, however, +was conjecture, tradition being silent on the +subject. A lofty arched portal led into, and a little +arched portal led out of, this apartment; they were +opposite each other, and each possessed the security +of massy bolts on its interior. The bedstead, too, +was not one of yesterday, but manifestly coeval with +days ere Seddons was, and when a good four-post +“article” was deemed worthy of being a royal bequest. +The bed itself, with all the appurtenances of +palliasse, mattresses, etc., was of far later date, and +looked most incongruously comfortable; the casements, +too, with their little diamond-shaped panes +and iron binding, had given way to the modern heterodoxy +of the sash-window. Nor was this all that +conspired to ruin the costume, and render the room<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span> +a meet haunt for such “mixed spirits” only as could +condescend to don at the same time an Elizabethan +doublet and Bond-Street inexpressibles.</p> + +<p>With their green morocco slippers on a modern +fender, in front of a disgracefully modern grate, sat +two young gentlemen, clad in “shawl-pattern” dressing-gowns +and black silk stocks, much at variance +with the high cane-backed chairs which supported +them. A bunch of abomination, called a cigar, +reeked in the left-hand corner of the mouth of one, +and in the right-hand corner of the mouth of the +other—an arrangement happily adapted for the escape +of the noxious fumes up the chimney, without +that unmerciful “funking” each other which a less +scientific disposition of the weed would have induced. +A small pembroke table filled up the intervening +space between them, sustaining, at each extremity, +an elbow and a glass of toddy—thus in “lonely pensive +contemplation” were the two worthies occupied, +when the “iron tongue of midnight had tolled +twelve.”</p> + +<p>“Ghost-time’s come!” said Ingoldsby, taking from +his waistcoat pocket a watch like a gold half-crown, +and consulting it as though he suspected the turret-clock +over the stables of mendacity.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” said Charles; “did I not hear a footstep?”</p> + +<p>There was a pause—there was a footstep—it +sounded distinctly—it reached the door—it hesitated, +stopped, and—passed on.</p> + +<p>Tom darted across the room, threw open the door,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span> +and became aware of Mrs. Botherby toddling to her +chamber, at the other end of the gallery, after dosing +one of the housemaids with an approved julep +from the Countess of Kent’s <i>Choice Manual</i>.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, sir!” said Mrs. Botherby.</p> + +<p>“Go to the devil!” said the disappointed ghost-hunter.</p> + +<p>An hour—two—rolled on, and still no spectral +visitation; nor did aught intervene to make night +hideous; and when the turret-clock sounded at +length the hour of three, Ingoldsby, whose patience +and grog were alike exhausted, sprang from his +chair, saying—</p> + +<p>“This is all infernal nonsense, my good fellow. +Deuce of any ghost shall we see to-night; it’s long +past the canonical hour. I’m off to bed; and as to +your breeches, I’ll insure them for the next twenty-four +hours at least, at the price of the buckram.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly.—Oh! thank’ee—to be sure!” stammered +Charles, rousing himself from a reverie, +which had degenerated into an absolute snooze.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, my boy! Bolt the door behind me; +and defy the Pope, the Devil, and the Pretender!”</p> + +<p>Seaforth followed his friend’s advice, and the next +morning came down to breakfast dressed in the habiliments +of the preceding day. The charm was +broken, the demon defeated; the light grays with +the red stripe down the seams were yet in rerum +naturâ, and adorned the person of their lawful proprietor.</p> + +<p>Tom felicitated himself and his partner of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> +watch on the result of their vigilance; but there is a +rustic adage, which warns us against self-gratulation +before we are quite “out of the wood.”—Seaforth +was yet within its verge.</p> + +<p>A rap at Tom Ingoldsby’s door the following +morning startled him as he was shaving—he cut his +chin.</p> + +<p>“Come in and be damned to you!” said the +martyr, pressing his thumb on the sacrificed epidermis. +The door opened, and exhibited Mr. +Barney Maguire.</p> + +<p>“Well, Barney, what is it?” quoth the sufferer, +adopting the vernacular of his visitant.</p> + +<p>“The master, sir—”</p> + +<p>“Well, what does he want?”</p> + +<p>“The loanst of a breeches, plase your honor.”</p> + +<p>“Why, you don’t mean to tell me——By +Heaven, this is too good!” shouted Tom, bursting +into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “Why, Barney, +you don’t mean to say the ghost has got them +again?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Maguire did not respond to the young +squire’s risibility; the cast of his countenance was decidedly +serious.</p> + +<p>“Faith, then, it’s gone they are, sure enough! +Hasn’t meself been looking over the bed, and under +the bed, and <i>in</i> the bed, for the matter of that, and +divil a ha’p’orth of breeches is there to the fore at +all:—I’m bothered entirely!”</p> + +<p>“Hark’ee! Mr. Barney,” said Tom, incautiously +removing his thumb, and letting a crimson stream<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span> +“incarnadine the multitudinous” lather that plastered +his throat,—“this may be all very well with +your master, but you don’t humbug <i>me</i>, sir:—tell me +instantly what have you done with the clothes?”</p> + +<p>This abrupt transition from “lively to severe” certainly +took Maguire by surprise, and he seemed for +an instant as much disconcerted as it is possible to +disconcert an Irish gentleman’s gentleman.</p> + +<p>“Me? is it meself, then, that’s the ghost to your +honor’s thinking?” said he after a moment’s pause, +and with a slight shade of indignation in his tones: +“is it I would stale the master’s things—and what +would I do with them?”</p> + +<p>“That you best know:—what your purpose is I +can’t guess, for I don’t think you mean to ‘stale’ +them, as you call it; but that you are concerned in +their disappearance, I am satisfied. Confound this +blood!—give me a towel, Barney.”</p> + +<p>Maguire acquitted himself of the commission. +“As I’ve a sowl, your honor,” said he, solemnly, +“little is it meself knows of the matter; and after +what I seen——”</p> + +<p>“What you’ve seen! Why, what <i>have</i> you seen?—Barney, +I don’t want to inquire into your flirtations; +but don’t suppose you can palm off your +saucer eyes and gig-lamps upon me!”</p> + +<p>“Then, as sure as your honor’s standing there, I +saw him: and why wouldn’t I, when Miss Pauline +was to the fore as well as meself, and——”</p> + +<p>“Get along with your nonsense; leave the room, +sir!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> + +<p>“But the master?” said Barney, imploringly; +“and without a breeches?—sure he’ll be catching +cowld!——”</p> + +<p>“Take that, rascal!” replied Ingoldsby, throwing +a pair of pantaloons at, rather than to, him: “but +don’t suppose, sir, you shall carry on your tricks here +with impunity; recollect there is such a thing as a +treadmill, and that my father is a county magistrate.”</p> + +<p>Barney’s eye flashed fire; he stood erect, and was +about to speak; but, mastering himself, not without +an effort, he took up the garment, and left the room +as perpendicular as a Quaker.</p> + +<p>“Ingoldsby,” said Charles Seaforth, after breakfast, +“this is now past a joke; to-day is the last of +my stay; for, notwithstanding the ties which detain +me, common decency obliges me to visit home after +so long an absence. I shall come to an immediate +explanation with your father on the subject nearest +my heart, and depart while I have a change of dress +left. On his answer will my return depend! In the +meantime tell me candidly,—I ask it in all seriousness, +and as a friend,—am I not a dupe to your well-known +propensity to hoaxing? have you not a hand +in——”</p> + +<p>“No, by heaven, Seaforth; I see what you mean: +on my honor, I am as much mystified as yourself; +and if your servant——”</p> + +<p>“Not he:—if there be a trick, he at least is not +privy to it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></p> + +<p>“If there be a trick? why, Charles, do you +think——”</p> + +<p>“I know not what to think, Tom. As surely as +you are a living man, so surely did that spectral +anatomy visit my room again last night, grin in my +face, and walk away with my trousers: nor was I +able to spring from my bed, or break the chain which +seemed to bind me to my pillow.”</p> + +<p>“Seaforth!” said Ingoldsby, after a short pause, +“I will——But hush! here are the girls and my +father.—I will carry off the females, and leave you +a clear field with the governor: carry your point +with him, and we will talk about your breeches afterwards.”</p> + +<p>Tom’s diversion was successful; he carried off the +ladies en masse while Seaforth marched boldly up +to the encounter, and carried “the governor’s” outworks +by a coup de main.</p> + +<p>Seaforth was in the seventh heaven; he retired to +his room that night as happy as if no such thing as a +goblin had ever been heard of, and personal chattels +were as well fenced in by law as real property. Not +so Tom Ingoldsby: the mystery, for mystery there +evidently was,—had not only piqued his curiosity, +but ruffled his temper. The watch of the previous +night had been unsuccessful, probably because it was +undisguised. To-night he would “ensconce himself,” +not indeed “behind the arras,”—for the little +that remained was, as we have seen, nailed to the +wall,—but in a small closet which opened from one +corner of the room, and by leaving the door ajar,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> +would give to its occupant a view of all that might +pass in the apartment. Here did the young ghost +hunter take up a position, with a good stout sapling +under his arm, a full half-hour before Seaforth retired +for the night. Not even his friend did he let +into his confidence, fully determined that if his plan +did not succeed, the failure should be attributed to +himself alone.</p> + +<p>At the usual hour of separation for the night, +Tom saw, from his concealment, the lieutenant enter +his room, and after taking a few turns in it, with an +expression so joyous as to betoken that his thoughts +were mainly occupied by his approaching happiness, +proceed slowly to disrobe himself. The coat, the +waistcoat, happiness, the black silk stock, were +gradually discarded; the green morocco slippers +were kicked off, and then—ay, and then—his countenance +grew grave; it seemed to occur to him all at +once that this was his last stake,—nay, that the very +breeches he had on were not his own,—that to-morrow +morning was his last, and that if he lost +them——A glance showed that his mind was made +up; he replaced the single button he had just subducted, +and threw himself upon the bed in a state +of transition,—half chrysalis, half grub.</p> + +<p>Wearily did Tom Ingoldsby watch the sleeper by +the flickering light of the night-lamp, till, the clock +striking one, induced him to increase the narrow +opening which he had left for the purpose of observation. +The motion, slight as it was, seemed to attract +Charles’s attention; for he raised himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span> +suddenly to a sitting posture, listened for a moment, +and then stood upright upon the floor. Ingoldsby +was on the point of discovering himself, when, the +light flashing full upon his friend’s countenance, he +perceived that, though his eyes were open, “their +sense was shut,”—that he was yet under the influence +of sleep. Seaforth advanced slowly to the toilet, lit +his candle at the lamp that stood on it, then, going +back to the bed’s foot, appeared to search eagerly +for something which he could not find. For a few +moments he seemed restless and uneasy, walking +round the apartment and examining the chairs, till, +coming fully in front of a large swing glass that +flanked the dressing-table, he paused as if contemplating +his figure in it. He now returned towards +the bed; put on his slippers, and with cautious and +stealthy steps, proceeded towards the little arched +doorway that opened on the private staircase.</p> + +<p>As he drew the bolt, Tom Ingoldsby emerged +from his hiding-place; but the sleep-walker heard +him not; he proceeded softly downstairs, followed +at a due distance by his friend; opened the door +which led out upon the gardens; and stood at once +among the thickest of the shrubs, which there clustered +round the base of a corner turret, and screened +the postern from common observation. At this moment +Ingoldsby had nearly spoiled all by making a +false step: the sound attracted Seaforth’s attention,—he +paused and turned; and, as the full moon shed +her light directly upon his pale and troubled features,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> +Tom marked, almost with dismay, the fixed and rayless +appearance of his eyes.</p> + +<p>The perfect stillness preserved by his follower +seemed to reassure him; he turned aside; and from +the midst of a thicket laurustinus drew forth a +gardener’s spade, shouldering which he proceeded +with greater rapidity into the midst of the shrubbery. +Arrived at a certain point where the earth seemed +to have been recently disturbed, he set himself heartily +to the task of digging, till, having thrown up several +shovelfuls of mould, he stopped, flung down his +tool, and very composedly began to disencumber +himself of his pantaloons.</p> + +<p>Up to this moment Tom had watched him with +a wary eye: he now advanced cautiously, and, as his +friend was busily engaged in disentangling himself +from his garment, made himself master of the +spade. Seaforth, meanwhile, had accomplished his +purpose: he stood for a moment with “his streamers +waving in the wind,” occupied in carefully rolling +up the small-clothes into as compact a form as possible, +and all heedless of the breath of heaven, which +might certainly be supposed at such a moment, and +in such a plight, to “visit his frame too roughly.”</p> + +<p>He was in the act of stooping low to deposit the +pantaloons in the grave which he had been digging +for them, when Tom Ingoldsby came close behind +him, and with the flat side of the spade——</p> + +<p>The shock was effectual—never again was Lieutenant +Seaforth known to act the part of a somnambulist. +One by one, his breeches,—his trousers,—his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span> +pantaloons,—his silk-net tights,—his patent +cords,—his showy grays with the broad red stripe +of the Bombay Fencibles were brought to light,—rescued +from the grave in which they had been +buried, like the strata of a Christmas pie; and after +having been well aired by Mrs. Botherby, became +once again effective.</p> + +<p>The family, the ladies especially, laughed—the +Peterses laughed—the Simpkinsons laughed—Barney +Maguire cried “Botheration!” and Ma’mselle +Pauline, “Mon Dieu!”</p> + +<p>Charles Seaforth, unable to face the quizzing +which awaited him on all sides, started off two hours +earlier than he had proposed:—he soon returned, +however; and having, at his father-in-law’s request, +given up the occupation of Rajah-hunting and shooting +Nabobs, led his blushing bride to the altar.</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c2">THE MYSTERIOUS SKETCH</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Erckmann-Chatrian</span></p> + + +<p class="c large">I</p> + +<p><span class="smcap large">Opposite</span> the chapel of Saint Sebalt in Nuremberg, +at the corner of Trabaus Street, there stands a little +tavern, tall and narrow, with a toothed gable and +dusty windows, whose roof is surmounted by a +plaster Virgin. It was there that I spent the unhappiest +days of my life. I had gone to Nuremberg +to study the old German masters; but in default of +ready money, I had to paint portraits—and such +portraits! Fat old women with their cats on their +laps, big-wigged aldermen, burgomasters in three-cornered +hats—all horribly bright with ochre and +vermilion. From portraits I descended to sketches, +and from sketches to silhouettes.</p> + +<p>Nothing is more annoying than to have your landlord +come to you every day with pinched lips, shrill +voice, and impudent manner to say: “Well, sir, how +soon are you going to pay me? Do you know how +much your bill is? No; that doesn’t worry you! +You eat, drink, and sleep calmly enough. God feeds +the sparrows. Your bill now amounts to two hundred<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span> +florins and ten kreutzers—it is not worth talking +about.”</p> + +<p>Those who have not heard any one talk in this +way can form no idea of it; love of art, imagination, +and the sacred enthusiasm for the beautiful are +blasted by the breath of such an attack. You become +awkward and timid; all your energy evaporates, +as well as your feeling of personal dignity, +and you bow respectfully at a distance to the burgomaster +Schneegans.</p> + +<p>One night, not having a sou, as usual, and threatened +with imprisonment by this worthy Mister Rap, +I determined to make him a bankrupt by cutting my +throat. Seated on my narrow bed, opposite the +window, in this agreeable mood, I gave myself up to +a thousand philosophical reflections, more or less +comforting.</p> + +<p>“What is man?” I asked myself. “An omnivorous +animal; his jaws, provided with canines, incisors, +and molars, prove it. The canines are made +to tear meat; the incisors to bite fruits; and the +molars to masticate, grind, and triturate animal and +vegetable substances that are pleasant to smell and +to taste. But when he has nothing to masticate, this +being is an absurdity in Nature, a superfluity, a fifth +wheel to the coach.”</p> + +<p>Such were my reflections. I dared not open my +razor for fear that the invincible force of my logic +would inspire me with the courage to make an end +of it all. After having argued so finely, I blew out +my candle, postponing the sequel till the morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p> + +<p>That abominable Rap had completely stupefied +me. I could do nothing but silhouettes, and my sole +desire was to have some money to rid myself of his +odious presence. But on this night a singular change +came over my mind. I awoke about one o’clock—I +lit my lamp, and, enveloping myself in my grey gabardine, +I drew upon the paper a rapid sketch after +the Dutch school—something strange and bizarre, +which had not the slightest resemblance to my ordinary +conceptions.</p> + +<p>Imagine a dreary courtyard enclosed by high dilapidated +walls. These walls are furnished with +hooks, seven or eight feet from the ground. You +see, at a glance, that it is a butchery.</p> + +<p>On the left, there extends a lattice structure; you +perceive through it a quartered beef suspended from +the roof by enormous pulleys. Great pools of blood +run over the flagstones and unite in a ditch full of +refuse.</p> + +<p>The light falls above, between the chimneys where +the weathercocks stand out from a bit of the sky +the size of your hand, and the roofs of the neighboring +houses throw bold shadows from story to +story.</p> + +<p>At the back of this place is a shed, beneath the +shed a pile of wood, and upon the pile of wood some +ladders, a few bundles of straw, some coils of rope, +a chicken-coop, and an old dilapidated rabbit-hutch.</p> + +<p>How did these heterogeneous details suggest +themselves to my imagination? I don’t know; I had +no reminiscences, and yet every stroke of the pencil<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span> +seemed the result of observation, and strange because +it was all so true. Nothing was lacking.</p> + +<p>But on the right, one corner of the sketch remained +a blank. I did not know what to put there.... +Something suddenly seemed to writhe there, to +move. Then I saw a foot, the sole of a foot. Notwithstanding +this improbable position, I followed +my inspiration without reference to my own criticism. +This foot was joined to a leg—over this leg, +stretched out with effort, there soon floated the skirt +of a dress. In short, there appeared by degrees an +old woman, pale, dishevelled, and wasted, thrown +down at the side of a well, and struggling to free +herself from a hand that clutched her throat.</p> + +<p>It was a murder scene that I was drawing. The +pencil fell from my hand.</p> + +<p>This woman, in the boldest attitude, with her +thighs bent on the curb of the well, her face contracted +by terror, and her two hands grasping the +murderer’s arm, frightened me. I could not look at +her. But the man—he, the person to whom that +arm belonged—I could not see him. It was impossible +for me to finish the sketch.</p> + +<p>“I am tired,” I said, my forehead dripping with +perspiration; “there is only this figure to do; I will +finish it tomorrow. It will be easy then.”</p> + +<p>And again I went to bed, thoroughly frightened +by my vision.</p> + +<p>The next morning, I got up very early. I was +dressing in order to resume my interrupted work, +when two little knocks were heard on my door.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p> + +<p>“Come in!”</p> + +<p>The door opened. An old man, tall, thin, and +dressed in black, appeared on the threshold. This +man’s face, his eyes set close together and his large +nose like the beak of an eagle, surmounted by a high +bony forehead, had something severe about it. He +bowed to me gravely.</p> + +<p>“Mister Christian Vénius, the painter?” said he.</p> + +<p>“That is my name, sir.”</p> + +<p>He bowed again, adding:</p> + +<p>“The Baron Frederick Van Spreckdal.”</p> + +<p>The appearance of the rich amateur, Van Spreckdal, +judge of the criminal court, in my poor lodging, +greatly disturbed me. I could not help throwing a +stealthy glance at my old worm-eaten furniture, my +damp hangings and my dusty floor. I felt humiliated +by such dilapidation; but Van Spreckdal did +not seem to take any account of these details; and +sitting down at my little table:</p> + +<p>“Mister Vénius,” he resumed, “I come——” But +at this instant his glance fell upon the unfinished +sketch—he did not finish his phrase.</p> + +<p>I was sitting on the edge of my little bed; and the +sudden attention that this personage bestowed upon +one of my productions made my heart beat with an +indefinable apprehension.</p> + +<p>At the end of a minute, Van Spreckdal lifted his +head:</p> + +<p>“Are you the author of that sketch?” he asked me +with an intent look.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></p> + +<p>“What is the price of it?”</p> + +<p>“I never sell my sketches. It is the plan for a +picture.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said he, picking up the paper with the tips +of his long yellow fingers.</p> + +<p>He took a lens from his waistcoat pocket and began +to study the design in silence.</p> + +<p>The sun was now shining obliquely into the garret. +Van Spreckdal never said a word; the hook of his +immense nose increased, his heavy eyebrows contracted, +and his long pointed chin took a turn upward, +making a thousand little wrinkles in his long, +thin cheeks. The silence was so profound that I +could distinctly hear the plaintive buzzing of a fly +that had been caught in a spider’s web.</p> + +<p>“And the dimensions of this picture, Mister +Vénius?” he said without looking at me.</p> + +<p>“Three feet by four.”</p> + +<p>“The price?”</p> + +<p>“Fifty ducats.”</p> + +<p>Van Spreckdal laid the sketch on the table, and +drew from his pockets a large purse of green silk +shaped like a pear; he drew the rings of it——</p> + +<p>“Fifty ducats,” said he, “here they are.”</p> + +<p>I was simply dazzled.</p> + +<p>The Baron rose and bowed to me, and I heard +his big ivory-headed cane resounding on each step +until he reached the bottom of the stairs. Then +recovering from my stupor, I suddenly remembered +that I had not thanked him, and I flew down +the five flights like lightning; but when I reached the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span> +bottom, I looked to the right and left; the street was +deserted.</p> + +<p>“Well,” I said, “this is strange.”</p> + +<p>And I went upstairs again all out of breath.</p> + + +<p class="c large">II</p> + +<p>The surprising way in which Van Spreckdal had +appeared to me threw me into deep wonderment. +“Yesterday,” I said to myself, as I contemplated the +pile of ducats glittering in the sun, “yesterday I +formed the wicked intention of cutting my throat, +all for the want of a few miserable florins, and now +today Fortune has showered them from the clouds. +Indeed it was fortunate that I did not open my +razor; and, if the same intention ever comes to me +again, I will take care to wait until the morrow.”</p> + +<p>After making these judicious reflections, I sat +down to finish the sketch; four strokes of the pencil +and it would be finished. But here an incomprehensible +difficulty awaited me. It was impossible for +me to take those four sweeps of the pencil; I had +lost the thread of my inspiration, and the mysterious +personage no longer stood out in my brain. I tried +in vain to evoke him, to sketch him, and to recover +him; he no more accorded with the surroundings +than with a figure by Raphael in a Teniers inn-kitchen. +I broke out into a profuse perspiration.</p> + +<p>At this moment, Rap opened the door without +knocking, according to his praiseworthy custom. His<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> +eyes fell upon my pile of ducats and in a shrill voice +he cried:</p> + +<p>“Eh! eh! so I catch. Will you persist in telling +me, Mr. Painter, that you have no money?”</p> + +<p>And his hooked fingers advanced with that nervous +trembling that the sight of gold always produces +in a miser.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds I was stupefied.</p> + +<p>The memory of all the indignities that this individual +had inflicted upon me, his covetous look, and +his impudent smile exasperated me. With a single +bound, I caught hold of him, and pushed him out of +the room, slamming the door in his face.</p> + +<p>This was done with the crack and rapidity of a +spring snuff-box.</p> + +<p>But from outside the old usurer screamed like +an eagle:</p> + +<p>“My money, you thief, my money!”</p> + +<p>The lodgers came out of their rooms, asking:</p> + +<p>“What is the matter? What has happened?”</p> + +<p>I opened the door suddenly and quickly gave +Mister Rap a kick in the spine that sent him rolling +down more than twenty steps.</p> + +<p>“That’s what’s the matter!” I cried quite beside +myself. Then I shut the door and bolted it, while +bursts of laughter from the neighbors greeted +Mister Rap in the passage.</p> + +<p>I was satisfied with myself; I rubbed my hands +together. This adventure had put new life into me; +I resumed my work, and was about to finish the +sketch when I heard an unusual noise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> + +<p>Butts of muskets were grounded on the pavement. +I looked out of my window and saw three soldiers +in full uniform with grounded arms in front of my +door.</p> + +<p>I said to myself in my terror: “Can it be that +that scoundrel of a Rap has had any bones broken?”</p> + +<p>And here is the strange peculiarity of the human +mind: I, who the night before had wanted to cut my +own throat, shook from head to foot, thinking that +I might well be hanged if Rap were dead.</p> + +<p>The stairway was filled with confused noises. It +was an ascending flood of heavy footsteps, clanking +arms, and short syllables.</p> + +<p>Suddenly somebody tried to open my door. It was +shut.</p> + +<p>Then there was a general clamor.</p> + +<p>“In the name of the law—open!”</p> + +<p>I arose trembling, and weak in the knees.</p> + +<p>“Open!” the same voice repeated.</p> + +<p>I thought to escape over the roofs; but I had +hardly put my head out of the little snuff-box window, +when I drew back, seized with vertigo. I saw +in a flash all the windows below with their shining +panes, their flowerpots, their bird-cages, and their +gratings. Lower, the balcony; still lower, the street-lamp; +still lower again, the sign of the “Red Cask” +framed in iron-work; and, finally three glittering +bayonets, only awaiting my fall to run me through +the body from the sole of my foot to the crown of +my head. On the roof of the opposite house a tortoise-shell +cat was crouching behind a chimney,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> +watching a band of sparrows fighting and scolding in +the gutter.</p> + +<p>One cannot imagine to what clearness, intensity, +and rapidity the human eye acquires when stimulated +by fear.</p> + +<p>At the third summons I heard:</p> + +<p>“Open, or we shall force it!”</p> + +<p>Seeing that flight was impossible, I staggered to +the door and drew the bolt.</p> + +<p>Two hands immediately fell upon my collar. A +dumpy little man, smelling of wine, said:</p> + +<p>“I arrest you!”</p> + +<p>He wore a bottle-green redingote, buttoned to the +chin, and a stovepipe hat. He had large brown +whiskers, rings on every finger, and was named +Passauf.</p> + +<p>He was the chief of police.</p> + +<p>Five bull-dogs with flat caps, noses like pistols, and +lower jaws turning upward, observed me from outside.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” I asked Passauf.</p> + +<p>“Come downstairs,” he cried roughly, as he gave +a sign to one of his men to seize me.</p> + +<p>This man took hold of me, more dead than alive, +while several other men turned my room upside +down.</p> + +<p>I went downstairs supported by the arms like a +person in the last stages of consumption—with hair +dishevelled and stumbling at every step.</p> + +<p>They thrust me into a cab between two strong +fellows, who charitably let me see the ends of their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span> +clubs, held to their wrists by a leather string—and +then the carriage started off.</p> + +<p>I heard behind us the feet of all the urchins of +the town.</p> + +<p>“What have I done?” I asked one of my keepers.</p> + +<p>He looked at the other with a strange smile and +said:</p> + +<p>“Hans—he asks what he has done!”</p> + +<p>That smile froze my blood.</p> + +<p>Soon a deep shadow enveloped the carriage; the +horses’ hoofs resounded under an archway. We +were entering the Raspelhaus. Of this place one +might say:</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Dans cet antre,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Je vois fort bien comme l’on entre,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Et ne vois point comme on en sort.”</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>All is not rose-colored in this world; from the +claws of Rap I fell into a dungeon, from which very +few poor devils have a chance to escape.</p> + +<p>Large dark courtyards and rows of windows like +a hospital, and furnished with gratings; not a sprig +of verdure, not a festoon of ivy, not even a weathercock +in perspective—such was my new lodging. It +was enough to make one tear his hair out by the +roots.</p> + +<p>The police officers, accompanied by the jailer, +took me temporarily to a lock-up.</p> + +<p>The jailer, if I remember rightly, was named +Kasper Schlüssel; with his grey woollen cap, his pipe +between his teeth, and his bunch of keys at his belt,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span> +he reminded me of the Owl-God of the Caribs. He +had the same golden yellow eyes, that see in the +dark, a nose like a comma, and a neck that was sunk +between the shoulders.</p> + +<p>Schlüssel shut me up as calmly as one locks up +his socks in a cupboard, while thinking of something +else. As for me, I stood for more than ten minutes +with my hands behind my back and my head bowed. +At the end of that time I made the following reflection: +“When falling, Rap cried out, ‘I am assassinated,’ +but he did not say by whom. I will say it +was my neighbor, the old merchant with the spectacles: +he will be hanged in my place.”</p> + +<p>This idea comforted my heart, and I drew a long +breath. Then I looked about my prison. It seemed +to have been newly whitewashed, and the walls were +bare of designs, except in one corner, where a gallows +had been crudely sketched by my predecessor. +The light was admitted through a bull’s-eye about +nine or ten feet from the floor; the furniture consisted +of a bundle of straw and a tub.</p> + +<p>I sat down upon the straw with my hands around +my knees in deep despondency. It was with great +difficulty that I could think clearly; but suddenly imagining +that Rap, before dying, had denounced me, +my legs began to tingle, and I jumped up coughing, +as if the hempen cord were already tightening +around my neck.</p> + +<p>At the same moment, I heard Schlüssel walking +down the corridor; he opened the lock-up, and told<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span> +me to follow him. He was still accompanied by the +two officers, so I fell into step resolutely.</p> + +<p>We walked down long galleries, lighted at intervals +by small windows from within. Behind a grating +I saw the famous Jic-Jack, who was going to be +executed on the morrow. He had on a strait-jacket +and sang out in a raucous voice:</p> + + + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Je suis le roi de ces montagnes.”</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>Seeing me, he called out:</p> + +<p>“Eh! comrade! I’ll keep a place for you at my +right.”</p> + +<p>The two police officers and the Owl-God looked at +each other and smiled, while I felt the goose-flesh +creep down the whole length of my back.</p> + + +<p class="c large">III</p> + +<p>Schlüssel shoved me into a large and very dreary +hall, with benches arranged in a semicircle. The appearance +of this deserted hall, with its two high +grated windows, and its Christ carved in old brown +oak with His arms extended and His head sorrowfully +inclined upon His shoulder, inspired me with +I do not know what kind of religious fear that accorded +with my actual situation.</p> + +<p>All my ideas of false accusation disappeared, and +my lips trembling murmured a prayer.</p> + +<p>I had not prayed for a long time; but misfortune +always brings us to thoughts of submission. Man is +so little in himself!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span></p> + +<p>Opposite me, on an elevated seat, two men were +sitting with their backs to the light, and consequently +their faces were in shadow. However, I recognized +Van Spreckdal by his aquiline profile, illuminated by +an oblique reflection from the window. The other +person was fat, he had round, chubby cheeks and +short hands, and he wore a robe, like Van Spreckdal.</p> + +<p>Below was the clerk of the court, Conrad; he was +writing at a low table and was tickling the tip of his +ear with the feather-end of his pen. When I entered, +he stopped to look at me curiously.</p> + +<p>They made me sit down, and Van Spreckdal, raising +his voice, said to me:</p> + +<p>“Christian Vénius, where did you get this sketch?”</p> + +<p>He showed me the nocturnal sketch which was +then in his possession. It was handed to me. After +having examined it, I replied:</p> + +<p>“I am the author of it.”</p> + +<p>A long silence followed; the clerk of the court, +Conrad, wrote down my reply. I heard his pen +scratch over the paper, and I thought: “Why did +they ask me that question? That has nothing to do +with the kick I gave Rap in the back.”</p> + +<p>“You are the author of it?” asked Van Spreckdal. +“What is the subject?”</p> + +<p>“It is a subject of pure fancy.”</p> + +<p>“You have not copied the details from some +spot?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I imagined it all.”</p> + +<p>“Accused Christian,” said the judge in a severe +tone, “I ask you to reflect. Do not lie.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span></p> + +<p>“I have spoken the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Write that down, clerk,” said Van Spreckdal.</p> + +<p>The pen scratched again.</p> + +<p>“And this woman,” continued the judge—“this +woman who is being murdered at the side of the +well—did you imagine her also?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly.”</p> + +<p>“You have never seen her?”</p> + +<p>“Never.”</p> + +<p>Van Spreckdal rose indignantly; then, sitting down +again, he seemed to consult his companion in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>These two dark profiles silhouetted against the +brightness of the window, and the three men standing +behind me, the silence in the hall—everything +made me shiver.</p> + +<p>“What do you want with me? What have I +done?” I murmured.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Van Spreckdal said to my guardians:</p> + +<p>“You can take the prisoner back to the carriage; +we will go to Metzerstrasse.”</p> + +<p>Then, addressing me:</p> + +<p>“Christian Vénius,” he cried, “you are in a deplorable +situation. Collect your thoughts and remember +that if the law of man is inflexible, there still remains +for you the mercy of God. This you can merit by +confessing your crime.”</p> + +<p>These words stunned me like a blow from a hammer. +I fell back with extended arms, crying:</p> + +<p>“Ah! what a terrible dream!”</p> + +<p>And I fainted.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span></p> + +<p>When I regained consciousness, the carriage was +rolling slowly down the street; another one preceded +us. The two officers were always with me. One of +them on the way offered a pinch of snuff to his companion; +mechanically I reached out my hand toward +the snuff-box, but he withdrew it quickly.</p> + +<p>My cheeks reddened with shame, and I turned +away my head to conceal my emotion.</p> + +<p>“If you look outside,” said the man with the snuff-box, +“we shall be obliged to put handcuffs on you.”</p> + +<p>“May the devil strangle you, you infernal scoundrel!” +I said to myself. And as the carriage now +stopped, one of them got out, while the other held +me by the collar; then, seeing that his comrade was +ready to receive me, he pushed me rudely to him.</p> + +<p>These infinite precautions to hold possession of +my person boded no good; but I was far from predicting +the seriousness of the accusation that hung +over my head until an alarming circumstance opened +my eyes and threw me into despair.</p> + +<p>They pushed me along a low alley, the pavement +of which was unequal and broken; along the wall +there ran a yellowish ooze, exhaling a fetid odor. +I walked down this dark place with the two men behind +me. A little further there appeared the chiaroscuro +of an interior courtyard.</p> + +<p>I grew more and more terror-stricken as I advanced. +It was no natural feeling: it was a poignant +anxiety, outside of nature—like a nightmare. I recoiled +instinctively at each step.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span></p> + +<p>“Go on!” cried one of the policemen, laying +his hand on my shoulder; “go on!”</p> + +<p>But what was my astonishment when, at the end +of the passage, I saw the courtyard that I had drawn +the night before, with its walls furnished with hooks, +its rubbish-heap of old iron, its chicken-coops, and +its rabbit-hutch. Not a dormer window, high or +low, not a broken pane, not the slightest detail had +been omitted.</p> + +<p>I was thunderstruck by this strange revelation.</p> + +<p>Near the well were the two judges, Van Spreckdal +and Richter. At their feet lay the old woman extended +on her back, her long, thin, gray hair, her +blue face, her eyes wide open, and her tongue between +her teeth.</p> + +<p>It was a horrible spectacle!</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Van Spreckdal, with solemn accents, +“what have you to say?”</p> + +<p>I did not reply.</p> + +<p>“Do you remember having thrown this woman, +Theresa Becker, into this well, after having +strangled her to rob her of her money?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I cried, “no! I do not know this woman; +I never saw her before. May God help me!”</p> + +<p>“That will do,” he replied in a dry voice. And +without saying another word he went out with his +companion.</p> + +<p>The officers now believed that they had best put +handcuffs on me. They took me back to the Raspelhaus, +in a state of profound stupidity. I did not +know what to think; my conscience itself troubled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span> +me; I even asked myself if I really had murdered +the old woman!</p> + +<p>In the eyes of the officers I was condemned.</p> + +<p>I will not tell you of my emotions that night in +the Raspelhaus, when, seated on my straw bed with +the window opposite me and the gallows in perspective, +I heard the watchmen cry in the silence of +the night: “Sleep, people of Nuremberg; the Lord +watches over you. One o’clock! Two o’clock! +Three o’clock!”</p> + +<p>Every one may form his own idea of such a night. +There is a fine saying that it is better to be hanged +innocent than guilty. For the soul, yes; but for the +body, it makes no difference; on the contrary, it +kicks, it curses its lot, it tries to escape, knowing well +enough that its rôle ends with the rope. Add to +this, that it repents not having sufficiently enjoyed +life and at having listened to the soul when it +preached abstinence.</p> + +<p>“Ah! if I had only known!” it cried, “you would +not have led me around by a string with your big +words, your beautiful phrases, and your magnificent +sentences! You would not have allured me with +your fine promises. I should have had many happy +moments that are now lost forever. Everything is +over! You said to me: ‘Control your passions.’ +Very well! I did control them. Here I am now. +They are going to hang me, and you—later they +will speak of you as a sublime soul, a stoical soul, +a martyr to the errors of Justice. They will never +think about me!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p> + +<p>Such were the sad reflections of my poor body.</p> + +<p>Day broke; at first, dull and undecided, it threw +an uncertain light on my bull’s-eye window with its +crossbars; then it blazed against the wall at the back. +Outside the street became lively. This was a +market-day; it was Friday. I heard the vegetable +wagons pass and also the country people with their +baskets. Some chickens cackled in their coops in +passing and some butter sellers chattered together. +The market opposite opened, and they began to arrange +the stalls.</p> + +<p>Finally it was broad daylight and the vast murmur +of the increasing crowd, housekeepers who assembled +with baskets on their arms, coming and going, +discussing and marketing, told me that it was +eight o’clock.</p> + +<p>With the light, my heart gained a little courage. +Some of my black thoughts disappeared. I desired +to see what was going on outside.</p> + +<p>Other prisoners before me had managed to climb +up to the bull’s-eye; they had dug some holes in the +wall to mount more easily. I climbed in my turn, +and, when seated in the oval edge of the window, +with my legs bent and my head bowed, I could see +the crowd, and all the life and movement. Tears +ran freely down my cheeks. I thought no longer of +suicide—I experienced a need to live and breathe, +which was really extraordinary.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” I said, “to live what happiness! Let them +harness me to a wheelbarrow—let them put a ball<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> +and chain around my leg—nothing matters if I may +only live!”</p> + +<p>The old market, with its roof shaped like an extinguisher, +supported on heavy pillars, made a superb +picture: old women seated before their panniers of +vegetables, their cages of poultry and their baskets +of eggs; behind them the Jews, dealers in old clothes, +their faces the color of old boxwood; butchers with +bare arms, cutting up meat on their stalls; countrymen, +with large hats on the backs of their heads, +calm and grave with their hands behind their backs +and resting on their sticks of hollywood, and tranquilly +smoking their pipes. Then the tumult and +noise of the crowd—those screaming, shrill, grave, +high, and short words—those expressive gestures—those +sudden attitudes that show from a distance +the progress of a discussion and depict so well the +character of the individual—in short, all this captivated +my mind, and notwithstanding my sad condition, +I felt happy to be still of the world.</p> + +<p>Now, while I looked about in this manner, a man—a +butcher—passed, inclining forward and carrying +an enormous quarter of beef on his shoulders; his +arms were bare, his elbows were raised upward and +his head was bent under them. His long hair, like +that of Salvator’s Sicambrian, hid his face from me; +and yet, at the first glance, I trembled.</p> + +<p>“It is he!” I said.</p> + +<p>All the blood in my body rushed to my heart. I +got down from the window trembling to the ends of +my fingers, feeling my cheeks quiver, and the pallor<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> +spread over my face, stammering in a choked voice:</p> + +<p>“It is he! he is there—there—and I, I have to die +to expiate his crime. Oh, God! what shall I do? +What shall I do?”</p> + +<p>A sudden idea, an inspiration from Heaven, +flashed across my mind. I put my hand in the pocket +of my coat—my box of crayons was there!</p> + +<p>Then rushing to the wall, I began to trace the +scene of the murder with superhuman energy. No +uncertainty, no hesitation! I knew the man! I had +seen him! He was there before me!</p> + +<p>At ten o’clock the jailer came to my cell. His owl-like +impassibility gave place to admiration.</p> + +<p>“Is it possible?” he cried, standing at the threshold.</p> + +<p>“Go, bring me my judges,” I said to him, pursuing +my work with an increasing exultation.</p> + +<p>Schlüssel answered:</p> + +<p>“They are waiting for you in the trial-room.”</p> + +<p>“I wish to make a revelation,” I cried, as I put +the finishing touches to the mysterious personage.</p> + +<p>He lived; he was frightful to see. His full-faced +figure, foreshortened upon the wall, stood out from +the white background with an astonishing vitality.</p> + +<p>The jailer went away.</p> + +<p>A few minutes afterward the two judges appeared. +They were stupefied. I, trembling, with extended +hand, said to them:</p> + +<p>“There is the murderer!”</p> + +<p>After a few minutes of silence, Van Spreckdal +asked me:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> + +<p>“What is his name?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know; but he is at this moment in the +market; he is cutting up meat in the third stall to +the left as you enter from Trabaus Street.”</p> + +<p>“What do you think?” said he, leaning toward +his colleague.</p> + +<p>“Send for the man,” he replied in a grave tone.</p> + +<p>Several officers retained in the corridor obeyed this +order. The judges stood, examining the sketch. As +for me, I had dropped on my bed of straw, my head +between my knees, perfectly exhausted.</p> + +<p>Soon steps were heard echoing under the archway. +Those who have never awaited the hour of deliverance +and counted the minutes, which seem like centuries—those +who have never experienced the sharp +emotions of outrage, terror, hope, and doubt—can +have no conception of the inward chills that I experienced +at that moment. I should have distinguished +the step of the murderer, walking between +the guards, among a thousand others. They approached. +The judges themselves seemed moved. +I raised up my head, my heart feeling as if an iron +hand had clutched it, and I fixed my eyes upon the +closed door. It opened. The man entered. His +cheeks were red and swollen, the muscles in his large +contracted jaws twitched as far as his ears, and his +little restless eyes, yellow like a wolf’s, gleamed beneath +his heavy yellowish red eyebrows.</p> + +<p>Van Spreckdal showed him the sketch in silence.</p> + +<p>Then that murderous man, with the large shoulders, +having looked, grew pale—then, giving a roar<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span> +which thrilled us all with terror, he waved his enormous +arms, and jumped backward to overthrow the +guards. There was a terrible struggle in the corridor; +you could hear nothing but the panting breath +of the butcher, his muttered imprecations, and the +short words and the shuffling feet of the guard, upon +the flagstones.</p> + +<p>This lasted only about a minute.</p> + +<p>Finally the assassin re-entered, with his head hanging +down, his eyes bloodshot, and his hands fastened +behind his back. He looked again at the picture of +the murderer; he seemed to reflect, and then, in a low +voice, as if talking to himself:</p> + +<p>“Who could have seen me,” he said, “at midnight?”</p> + +<p>I was saved!</p> + +<p class="gtb">******</p> + +<p>Many years have passed since that terrible adventure. +Thank Heaven! I make silhouettes no longer, +nor portraits of burgomasters. Through hard work +and perseverance, I have conquered my place in the +world, and I earn my living honorably by painting +works of art—the sole end, in my opinion, to which +a true artist should aspire. But the memory of that +nocturnal sketch has always remained in my mind. +Sometimes, in the midst of work, the thought of it +recurs. Then I lay down my palette and dream for +hours.</p> + +<p>How could a crime committed by a man that I did +not know—at a place that I had never seen—have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span> +been reproduced by my pencil, in all its smallest details?</p> + +<p>Was it chance? No! And moreover, what is +chance but the effect of a cause of which we are +ignorant?</p> + +<p>Was Schiller right when he said: “The immortal +soul does not participate in the weaknesses of matter; +during the sleep of the body, it spreads its radiant +wings and travels, God knows where! What it +then does, no one can say, but inspiration sometimes +betrays the secret of its nocturnal wanderings.”</p> + +<p>Who knows? Nature is more audacious in her +realities than man in his most fantastic imagining.</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c3">THE DESERTED HOUSE</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Ernest T. W. Hoffmann</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap large">You</span> know already that I spent the greater part of +last summer in X——, began Theodore. The many +old friends and acquaintances I found there, the free, +jovial life, the manifold artistic and intellectual interests—all +these combined to keep me in that city. +I was happy as never before, and found rich nourishment +for my old fondness for wandering alone +through the streets, stopping to enjoy every picture +in the shop windows, every placard on the walls, +or watching the passers-by and choosing some one +or the other of them to cast his horoscope secretly +to myself.</p> + +<p>There is one broad avenue leading to the —— +Gate and lined with handsome buildings of all descriptions, +which is the meeting place of the rich and +fashionable world. The shops which occupy the +ground floor of the tall palaces are devoted to the +trade in articles of luxury, and the apartments above +are the dwellings of people of wealth and position. +The aristocratic hotels are to be found in this avenue, +the palaces of the foreign ambassadors are there, +and you can easily imagine that such a street would +be the centre of the city’s life and gaiety.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></p> + +<p>I had wandered through the avenue several times, +when one day my attention was caught by a house +which contrasted strangely with the others surrounding +it. Picture to yourselves a low building but four +windows broad, crowded in between two tall, handsome +structures. Its one upper story was a little +higher than the tops of the ground-floor windows of +its neighbors, its roof was dilapidated, its windows +patched with paper, its discolored walls spoke of +years of neglect. You can imagine how strange such +a house must have looked in this street of wealth and +fashion. Looking at it more attentively I perceived +that the windows of the upper story were tightly +closed and curtained, and that a wall had been built +to hide the windows of the ground floor. The entrance +gate, a little to one side, served also as a doorway +for the building, but I could find no sign of +latch, lock, or even a bell on this gate. I was convinced +that the house must be unoccupied, for at +whatever hour of the day I happened to be passing +I had never seen the faintest signs of life about it.</p> + +<p>You all, the good comrades of my youth, know +that I have been prone to consider myself a sort of +clairvoyant, claiming to have glimpses of a strange +world of wonders, a world which you, with your +hard common sense, would attempt to deny or laugh +away. I confess that I have often lost myself in +mysteries which after all turned out to be no mysteries +at all. And it looked at first as if this was +to happen to me in the matter of the deserted house, +that strange house which drew my steps and my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span> +thoughts to itself with a power that surprised me. +But the point of my story will prove to you that I +am right in asserting that I know more than you do. +Listen now to what I am about to tell you.</p> + +<p>One day, at the hour in which the fashionable +world is accustomed to promenade up and down the +avenue, I stood as usual before the deserted house, +lost in thought. Suddenly I felt, without looking up, +that some one had stopped beside me, fixing his eyes +on me. It was Count P——, who told me that the +old house contained nothing more mysterious than +a cake bakery belonging to the pastry cook whose +handsome shop adjoined the old structure. The +windows of the ground floor were walled up to give +protection to the ovens, and the heavy curtains of +the upper story were to keep the sunlight from the +wares laid out there. When the Count informed me +of this I felt as if a bucket of cold water had been +suddenly thrown over me. But I could not believe +in this story of the cake and candy factory. Through +some strange freak of the imagination I felt as a +child feels when some fairy tale has been told it to +conceal the truth it suspects. I scolded myself for +a silly fool; the house remained unaltered in its appearance, +and the visions faded in my brain, until +one day a chance incident woke them to life again.</p> + +<p>I was wandering through the avenue as usual, and +as I passed the deserted house I could not resist a +hasty glance at its close-curtained upper windows. +But as I looked at it, the curtain on the last window +near the pastry shop began to move. A hand, an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> +arm, came out from between its folds. I took my +opera glass from my pocket and saw a beautifully +formed woman’s hand, on the little finger of which +a large diamond sparkled in unusual brilliancy; a rich +bracelet glittered on the white, rounded arm. The +hand set a tall, oddly-formed crystal bottle on the +window ledge and disappeared again behind the curtain.</p> + +<p>I stopped as if frozen to stone; a weirdly pleasurable +sensation, mingled with awe, streamed through +my being with the warmth of an electric current. I +stared up at the mysterious window and a sigh of +longing arose from the very depths of my heart. +When I came to myself again, I was angered to find +that I was surrounded by a crowd which stood gazing +up at the window with curious faces. I stole +away inconspicuously, and the demon of all things +prosaic whispered to me that what I had just seen +was the rich pastry cook’s wife, in her Sunday adornment, +placing an empty bottle, used for rose-water or +the like, on the window sill. Nothing very weird +about this.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a most sensible thought came to me. I +turned and entered the shining, mirror-walled shop +of the pastry cook. Blowing the steaming foam +from my cup of chocolate, I remarked: “You have +a very useful addition to your establishment next +door.” The man leaned over his counter and looked +at me with a questioning smile, as if he did not understand +me. I repeated that in my opinion he had +been very clever to set his bakery in the neighboring<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span> +house, although the deserted appearance of the +building was a strange sight in its contrasting surroundings. +“Why, sir,” began the pastry cook, +“who told you that the house next door belongs to +us? Unfortunately every attempt on our part to +acquire it has been in vain, and I fancy it is all the +better so, for there is something queer about the +place.”</p> + +<p>You can imagine, dear friends, how interested I +became upon hearing these words, and that I begged +the man to tell me more about the house.</p> + +<p>“I do not know anything very definite, sir,” he +said. “All that we know for a certainty is that the +house belongs to the Countess S——, who lives on +her estates and has not been to the city for years. +This house, so they tell me, stood in its present shape +before any of the handsome buildings were raised +which are now the pride of our avenue, and in all +these years there has been nothing done to it except +to keep it from actual decay. Two living creatures +alone dwell there, an aged misanthrope of a steward +and his melancholy dog, which occasionally howls at +the moon from the back courtyard. According to +the general story the deserted house is haunted. In +very truth my brother, who is the owner of this +shop, and myself have often, when our business kept +us awake during the silence of the night, heard +strange sounds from the other side of the walls. +There was a rumbling and a scraping that frightened +us both. And not very long ago we heard one night +a strange singing which I could not describe to you.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span> +It was evidently the voice of an old woman, but the +tones were so sharp and clear, and ran up to the +top of the scale in cadences and long trills, the like +of which I have never heard before, although I have +heard many singers in many lands. It seemed to be +a French song, but I am not quite sure of that, for +I could not listen long to the mad, ghostly singing, +it made the hair stand erect on my head. And at +times, after the street noises are quiet, we can hear +deep sighs, and sometimes a mad laugh, which seem +to come out of the earth. But if you lay your ear +to the wall in our back room, you can hear that the +noises come from the house next door.” He led me +into the back room and pointed through the window. +“And do you see that iron chimney coming out of +the wall there? It smokes so heavily sometimes, +even in summer when there are no fires used, that +my brother has often quarrelled with the old steward +about it, fearing danger. But the old man excuses +himself by saying that he was cooking his food. +Heaven knows what the queer creature may eat, +for often, when the pipe is smoking heavily, a strange +and queer smell can be smelled all over the house.”</p> + +<p>The glass doors of the shop creaked in opening. +The pastry cook hurried into the front room, and +when he had nodded to the figure now entering he +threw a meaning glance at me. I understood him +perfectly. Who else could this strange guest be, but +the steward who had charge of the mysterious +house! Imagine a thin little man with a face the +color of a mummy, with a sharp nose, tight-set lips,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span> +green cat’s eyes, and a crazy smile; his hair dressed +in the old-fashioned style with a high toupet and a +bag at the back, and heavily powdered. He wore +a faded old brown coat which was carefully brushed, +gray stockings, and broad, flat-toed shoes with +buckles. And imagine further, that in spite of his +meagreness this little person is robustly built, with +huge fists and long, strong fingers, and that he walks +to the shop counter with a strong, firm step, smiling +his imbecile smile, and whining out: “A couple of +candied oranges—a couple of macaroons—a couple +of sugared chestnuts——”</p> + +<p>The pastry cook smiled at me and then spoke to +the old man. “You do not seem to be quite well. +Yes, yes, old age, old age! It takes the strength +from our limbs.” The old man’s expression did not +change, but his voice went up: “Old age?—Old age?—Lose +strength?—Grow weak?—Oho!” And with +this he clapped his hands together until the joints +cracked, and sprang high up into the air until the +entire shop trembled and the glass vessels on the +walls and counters rattled and shook. But in the +same moment a hideous screaming was heard; the +old man had stepped on his black dog, which, creeping +in behind him, had laid itself at his feet on the +floor. “Devilish beast—dog of hell!” groaned the +old man in his former miserable tone, opening his +bag and giving the dog a large macaroon. The dog, +which had burst out into a cry of distress that was +truly human, was quiet at once, sat down on its +haunches, and gnawed at the macaroon like a squirrel.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> +When it had finished its tidbit, the old man +had also finished the packing up and putting away +of his purchases. “Good night, honored neighbor,” +he spoke, taking the hand of the pastry cook and +pressing it until the latter cried aloud in pain. “The +weak old man wishes you a good night, most honorable +Sir Neighbor,” he repeated, and then walked +from the shop, followed closely by his black dog. +The old man did not seem to have noticed me at +all. I was quite dumbfounded in my astonishment.</p> + +<p>“There, you see,” began the pastry cook. “This +is the way he acts when he comes in here, two or +three times a month, it is. But I can get nothing +out of him except the fact that he was a former valet +of Count S——, that he is now in charge of this +house here, and that every day—for many years +now—he expects the arrival of his master’s family.” +The hour was now come when fashion demanded +that the elegant world of the city should assemble +in this attractive shop. The doors opened incessantly, +the place was thronged, and I could ask no +further questions.</p> + +<p>This much I knew, that Count P——’s information +about the ownership and the use of the house +were not correct; also, that the old steward, in spite +of his denial, was not living alone there, and that +some mystery was hidden behind its discolored walls. +How could I combine the story of the strange and +gruesome singing with the appearance of the beautiful +arm at the window? That arm could not be part +of the wrinkled body of an old woman; the singing,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span> +according to the pastry cook’s story, could not come +from the throat of a blooming and youthful maiden. +I decided in favor of the arm, as it was easy to explain +to myself that some trick of acoustics had +made the voice sound sharp and old, or that it had +appeared so only in the pastry cook’s fear-distorted +imagination. Then I thought of the smoke, the +strange odors, the oddly-formed crystal bottle that +I had seen, and soon the vision of a beautiful creature +held enthralled by fatal magic stood as if alive +before my mental vision. The old man became a +wizard who, perhaps quite independently of the +family he served, had set up his devil’s kitchen in +the deserted house. My imagination had begun to +work, and in my dreams that night I saw clearly the +hand with the sparkling diamond on its finger, the +arm with the shining bracelet. From out thin, gray +mists there appeared a sweet face with sadly imploring +blue eyes, then the entire exquisite figure of a +beautiful girl. And I saw that what I had thought +was mist was the fine steam flowing out in circles +from a crystal bottle held in the hands of the vision.</p> + +<p>“Oh, fairest creature of my dreams,” I cried in +rapture, “reveal to me where thou art, what it is that +enthralls thee. Ah, I know it! It is black magic that +holds thee captive—thou art the unhappy slave of +that malicious devil who wanders about brown-clad +and bewigged in pastry shops, scattering their wares +with his unholy springing and feeding his demon dog +on macaroons, after they have howled out a Satanic +measure in five-eighth time. Oh, I know it all, thou<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> +fair and charming vision. The diamond is the reflection +of the fire of thy heart. But that bracelet +about thine arm is a link of the chain which the +brown-clad one says is a magnetic chain. Do not +believe it, O glorious one! See how it shines in the +blue fire from the retort. One moment more and +thou art free. And now, O maiden, open thy rosebud +mouth and tell me——” In this moment +a gnarled fist leaped over my shoulder and clutched +at the crystal bottle, which sprang into a thousand +pieces in the air. With a faint, sad moan, the charming +vision faded into the blackness of the night.</p> + +<p>When morning came to put an end to my dreaming +I hurried through the avenue, seeking the deserted +house as usual and I saw something glistening +in the last window of the upper story. Coming +nearer I noticed that the outer blind had been quite +drawn up and the inner curtain slightly opened. The +sparkle of a diamond met my eye. O kind Heaven! +The face of my dream looked at me, gently imploring, +from above the rounded arm on which her head +was resting. But how was it possible to stand still +in the moving crowd without attracting attention? +Suddenly I caught sight of the benches placed in the +gravel walk in the centre of the avenue, and I saw +that one of them was directly opposite the house. +I sprang over to it, and leaning over its back, I could +stare up at the mysterious window undisturbed. Yes, +it was she, the charming maiden of my dream! But +her eye did not seem to seek me as I had at first +thought; her glance was cold and unfocused, and had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> +it not been for an occasional motion of the hand +and arm, I might have thought that I was looking +at a cleverly painted picture.</p> + +<p>I was so lost in my adoration of the mysterious +being in the window, so aroused and excited throughout +all my nerve centres, that I did not hear the +shrill voice of an Italian street hawker, who had +been offering me his wares for some time. Finally +he touched me on the arm; I turned hastily and commanded +him to let me alone. But he did not cease +his entreaties, asserting that he had earned nothing +today, and begging me to buy some small trifle from +him. Full of impatience to get rid of him I put my +hand in my pocket. With the words: “I have more +beautiful things here,” he opened the under drawer +of his box and held out to me a little, round pocket +mirror. In it, as he held it up before my face, I +could see the deserted house behind me, the window, +and the sweet face of my vision there.</p> + +<p>I bought the little mirror at once, for I saw that +it would make it possible for me to sit comfortably +and inconspicuously, and yet watch the window. The +longer I looked at the reflection in the glass, the +more I fell captive to a weird and quite indescribable +sensation, which I might almost call a waking dream. +It was as if a lethargy had lamed my eyes, holding +them fastened on the glass beyond my power to +loosen them. And now at last the beautiful eyes of +the fair vision looked at me, her glance sought mine +and shone deep down into my heart.</p> + +<p>“You have a pretty little mirror there,” said a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> +voice beside me. I awoke from my dream, and was +not a little confused when I saw smiling faces looking +at me from either side. Several persons had +sat down upon the bench, and it was quite certain +that my staring into the window, and my probably +strange expression, had afforded them great cause +for amusement.</p> + +<p>“You have a pretty little mirror there,” repeated +the man, as I did not answer him. His glance said +more, and asked without words the reason of my +staring so oddly into the little glass. He was an +elderly man, neatly dressed, and his voice and eyes +were so full of good nature that I could not refuse +him my confidence. I told him that I had been looking +in the mirror at the picture of a beautiful maiden +who was sitting at a window of the deserted house. +I went even farther; I asked the old man if he had +not seen the fair face himself. “Over there? In +the old house—in the last window?” He repeated +my questions in a tone of surprise.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The old man smiled and answered: “Well, well, +that was a strange delusion. My old eyes—thank +Heaven for my old eyes! Yes, yes, sir. I saw +a pretty face in the window there, with my own eyes; +but it seemed to me to be an excellently well-painted +oil portrait.”</p> + +<p>I turned quickly and looked toward the window; +there was no one there, and the blind had been pulled +down. “Yes,” continued the old man, “yes, sir. +Now it is too late to make sure of the matter, for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span> +just now the servant, who, as I know, lives there +alone in the house of the Countess S——, took the +picture away from the window after he had dusted it, +and let down the blinds.”</p> + +<p>“Was it, then, surely a picture?” I asked again, +in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>“You can trust my eyes,” replied the old man. +“The optical delusion was strengthened by your seeing +only the reflection in the mirror. And when I +was in your years it was easy enough for my fancy +to call up the picture of a beautiful maiden.”</p> + +<p>“But the hand and arm moved,” I exclaimed. +“Oh, yes, they moved, indeed they moved,” said the +old man smiling, as he patted me on the shoulder. +Then he arose to go, and bowing politely, closed his +remarks with the words, “Beware of mirrors which +can lie so vividly. Your obedient servant, sir.”</p> + +<p>You can imagine how I felt when I saw that he +looked upon me as a foolish fantast. I hurried home +full of anger and disgust, and promised myself that +I would not think of the mysterious house. But I +placed the mirror on my dressing-table that I might +bind my cravat before it, and thus it happened one +day, when I was about to utilize it for this important +business, that its glass seemed dull, and that I took +it up and breathed on it to rub it bright again. My +heart seemed to stand still, every fiber in me trembled +in delightful awe. Yes, that is all the name I +can find for the feeling that came over me, when, +as my breath clouded the little mirror, I saw the +beautiful face of my dreams arise and smile at me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> +through blue mists. You laugh at me? You look +upon me as an incorrigible dreamer? Think what +you will about it—the fair face looked at me from +out of the mirror! But as soon as the clouding +vanished, and face vanished in the brightened glass.</p> + +<p>I will not weary you with a detailed recital of my +sensations the next few days. I will only say that I +repeated again the experiments with the mirror, +sometimes with success, sometimes without. When +I had not been able to call up the vision, I would run +to the deserted house and stare up at the windows; +but I saw no human being anywhere about the building. +I lived only in thoughts of my vision; everything +else seemed indifferent to me. I neglected my +friends and my studies. The tortures in my soul +passed over into, or rather mingled with, physical +sensations which frightened me, and which at last +made me fear for my reason. One day, after an +unusually severe attack, I put my little mirror in +my pocket and hurried to the home of Dr. K——, +who was noted for his treatment of those diseases +of the mind out of which physical diseases so often +grow. I told him my story; I did not conceal the +slightest incident from him, and I implored him to +save me from the terrible fate which seemed to +threaten me. He listened to me quietly, but I read +astonishment in his glance. Then he said: “The +danger is not as near as you believe, and I think that +I may say that it can be easily prevented. You are +undergoing an unusual psychical disturbance, beyond +a doubt. But the fact that you understand that some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span> +evil principle seems to be trying to influence you, +gives you a weapon by which you can combat it. +Leave your little mirror here with me, and force +yourself to take up with some work which will afford +scope for all your mental energy. Do not go to the +avenue; work all day, from early to late, then take +a long walk, and spend your evenings in the company +of your friends. Eat heartily, and drink heavy, +nourishing wines. You see I am endeavoring to combat +your fixed idea of the face in the window of the +deserted house and in the mirror, by diverting your +mind to other things, and by strengthening your +body. You yourself must help me in this.”</p> + +<p>I was very reluctant to part with my mirror. The +physician, who had already taken it, seemed to notice +my hesitation. He breathed upon the glass and holding +it up to me, he asked: “Do you see anything?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing at all,” I answered, for so it was.</p> + +<p>“Now breathe on the glass yourself,” said the +physician, laying the mirror in my hands.</p> + +<p>I did as he requested. There was the vision even +more clearly than ever before.</p> + +<p>“There she is!” I cried aloud.</p> + +<p>The physician looked into the glass, and then said: +“I cannot see anything. But I will confess to you +that when I looked into this glass, a queer shiver +overcame me, passing away almost at once. Now do +it once more.”</p> + +<p>I breathed upon the glass again and the physician +laid his hand upon the back of my neck. The face +appeared again, and the physician, looking into the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span> +mirror over my shoulder, turned pale. Then he +took the little glass from my hands, looked at it +attentively, and locked it into his desk, returning to +me after a few moments’ silent thought.</p> + +<p>“Follow my instructions strictly,” he said. “I +must confess to you that I do not yet understand +those moments of your vision. But I hope to be able +to tell you more about it very soon.”</p> + +<p>Difficult as it was to me, I forced myself to live +absolutely according to the doctor’s orders. I soon +felt the benefit of the steady work and the nourishing +diet, and yet I was not free from those terrible attacks, +which would come either at noon, or, more +intensely still, at midnight. Even in the midst of a +merry company, in the enjoyment of wine and song, +glowing daggers seemed to pierce my heart, and all +the strength of my intellect was powerless to resist +their might over me. I was obliged to retire, and +could not return to my friends until I had recovered +from my condition of lethargy. It was in one of +these attacks, an unusually strong one, that such an +irresistible, mad longing for the picture of my dreams +came over me, that I hurried out into the street and +ran toward the mysterious house. While still at a +distance from it, I seemed to see lights shining out +through the fast-closed blinds, but when I came +nearer I saw that all was dark. Crazy with my +desire I rushed to the door; it fell back before the +pressure of my hand. I stood in the dimly lighted +vestibule, enveloped in a heavy, close atmosphere. +My heart beat in strange fear and impatience. Then<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span> +suddenly a long, sharp tone, as from a woman’s +throat, shrilled through the house. I know not how +it happened that I found myself suddenly in a great +hall brilliantly lighted and furnished in old-fashioned +magnificence of golden chairs and strange Japanese +ornaments. Strongly perfumed incense arose in blue +clouds about me. “Welcome—welcome, sweet bridegroom! +the hour has come, our bridal hour!” I +heard these words in a woman’s voice, and as little +as I can tell, how I came into the room, just so little +do I know how it happened that suddenly a tall, +youthful figure, richly dressed, seemed to arise from +the blue mists. With the repeated shrill cry: “Welcome, +sweet bridegroom!” she came toward me with +outstretched arms—and a yellow face, distorted with +age and madness, stared into mine! I fell back in +terror, but the fiery, piercing glance of her eyes, like +the eyes of a snake, seemed to hold me spellbound. +I did not seem able to turn my eyes from this terrible +old woman, I could not move another step. She +came still nearer, and it seemed to me suddenly as if +her hideous face were only a thin mask, beneath +which I saw the features of the beautiful maiden of +my vision. Already I felt the touch of her hands, +when suddenly she fell at my feet with a loud scream, +and a voice behind me cried:</p> + +<p>“Oho, is the devil playing his tricks with your +grace again? To bed, to bed, your grace. Else +there will be blows, mighty blows!”</p> + +<p>I turned quickly and saw the old steward in his +night clothes, swinging a whip above his head. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span> +was about to strike the screaming figure at my feet +when I caught at his arm. But he shook me from +him, exclaiming: “The devil, sir! That old Satan +would have murdered you if I had not come to your +aid. Get away from here at once!”</p> + +<p>I rushed from the hall, and sought in vain in the +darkness for the door of the house. Behind me I +heard the hissing blows of the whip and the old +woman’s screams. I drew breath to call aloud for +help, when suddenly the ground gave way under my +feet; I fell down a short flight of stairs, bringing up +with such force against a door at the bottom that it +sprang open, and I measured my length on the floor +of a small room. From the hastily vacated bed, and +from the familiar brown coat hanging over a chair, +I saw that I was in the bedchamber of the old +steward. There was a trampling on the stair, and +the old man himself entered hastily, throwing himself +at my feet. “By all the saints, sir,” he entreated +with folded hands, “whoever you may be, and however +her grace, that old Satan of a witch has managed +to entice you to this house, do not speak to +anyone of what has happened here. It will cost me +my position. Her crazy excellency has been punished, +and is bound fast in her bed. Sleep well, good +sir, sleep softly and sweetly. It is a warm and beautiful +July night. There is no moon, but the stars +shine brightly. A quiet good night to you.” While +talking, the old man had taken up a lamp, had led +me out of the basement, pushed me out of the house +door, and locked it behind me. I hurried home quite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span> +bewildered, and you can imagine that I was too much +confused by the gruesome secret to be able to form +any explanation of it in my own mind for the first few +days. Only this much was certain, that I was now +free from the evil spell that had held me captive so +long. All my longing for the magic vision in the +mirror had disappeared, and the memory of the +scene in the deserted house was like the recollection +of an unexpected visit to a madhouse. It was evident +beyond a doubt that the steward was the tyrannical +guardian of a crazy woman of noble birth, whose +condition was to be hidden from the world. But the +mirror? and all the other magic? Listen, and I will +tell you more about it.</p> + +<p>Some few days later I came upon Count P—— at +an evening entertainment. He drew me to one side +and said, with a smile, “Do you know that the secrets +of our deserted house are beginning to be revealed?” +I listened with interest; but before the Count could +say more the doors of the dining-room were thrown +open, and the company proceeded to the table. Quite +lost in thought at the words I had just heard, I had +given a young lady my arm, and had taken my place +mechanically in the ceremonious procession. I led my +companion to the seats arranged for us, and then +turned to look at her for the first time. The vision +of my mirror stood before me, feature for feature, +there was no deception possible! I trembled to my +innermost heart, as you can imagine; but I discovered +that there was not the slightest echo even, in my +heart, of the mad desire which had ruled me so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span> +entirely when my breath drew out the magic picture +from the glass. My astonishment, or rather my +terror, must have been apparent in my eyes. The +girl looked at me in such surprise that I endeavored +to control myself sufficiently to remark that I must +have met her somewhere before. Her short answer, +to the effect that this could hardly be possible, as she +had come to the city only yesterday for the first time +in her life, bewildered me still more and threw me +into an awkward silence. The sweet glance from +her gentle eyes brought back my courage, and I +began a tentative exploring of this new companion’s +mind. I found that I had before me a sweet and +delicate being, suffering from some psychic trouble. +At a particularly merry turn of the conversation, +when I would throw in a daring word like a dash of +pepper, she would smile, but her smile was pained, +as if a wound had been touched. “You are not very +merry to-night, Countess. Was it the visit this morning?” +An officer sitting near us had spoken these +words to my companion, but before he could finish +his remarks his neighbor had grasped him by the +arm and whispered something in his ear, while a +lady at the other side of the table, with glowing +cheeks and angry eyes, began to talk loudly of the +opera she had heard last evening. Tears came to the +eyes of the girl sitting beside me. “Am I not foolish?” +She turned to me. A few moments before +she had complained of headache. “Merely the usual +evidences of a nervous headache,” I answered in an +easy tone, “and there is nothing better for it than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span> +the merry spirit which bubbles in the foam of this +poet’s nectar.” With these words I filled her champagne +glass, and she sipped at it as she threw me a +look of gratitude. Her mood brightened, and all +would have been well had I not touched a glass +before me with unexpected strength, arousing from +it a shrill, high tone. My companion grew deadly +pale, and I myself felt a sudden shiver, for the sound +had exactly the tone of the mad woman’s voice in the +deserted house.</p> + +<p>While we were drinking coffee I made an opportunity +to get to the side of Count P——. He understood +the reason for my movement. “Do you know +that your neighbor is Countess Edwina S——? And +do you know also that it is her mother’s sister who +lives in the deserted house, incurably mad for many +years? This morning both mother and daughter +went to see the unfortunate woman. The old +steward, the only person who is able to control the +Countess in her outbreaks, is seriously ill, and they +say that the sister has finally revealed the secret to +Dr. K——.”</p> + +<p>Dr. K—— was the physician to whom I had +turned in my own anxiety, and you can well imagine +that I hurried to him as soon as I was free, and told +him all that had happened to me in the last days. I +asked him to tell me as much as he could about the +mad woman, for my own peace of mind; and this is +what I learned from him under promise of secrecy.</p> + +<p>“Angelica, Countess Z——,” thus the doctor began, +“had already passed her thirtieth year, but was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> +still in full possession of great beauty, when Count +S——, although much younger than she, became so +fascinated by her charm that he wooed her with +ardent devotion and followed her to her father’s +home to try his luck there. But scarcely had the +Count entered the house, scarcely had he caught sight +of Angelica’s younger sister, Gabrielle, when he +awoke as from a dream. The elder sister appeared +faded and colorless beside Gabrielle, whose beauty +and charm so enthralled the Count that he begged +her hand of her father. Count Z—— gave his consent +easily, as there was no doubt of Gabrielle’s feelings +toward her suitor. Angelica did not show the +slightest anger at her lover’s faithlessness. “He +believes that he has forsaken me, the foolish boy! +He does not perceive that he was but my toy, a toy +of which I had tired.” Thus she spoke in proud +scorn, and not a look or an action on her part belied +her words. But after the ceremonious betrothal of +Gabrielle to Count S——, Angelica was seldom seen +by the members of her family. She did not appear +at the dinner table, and it was said that she spent +most of her time walking alone in the neighboring +wood.</p> + +<p>“A strange occurrence disturbed the monotonous +quiet of life in the castle. The hunters of Count +Z——, assisted by peasants from the village, had +captured a band of gypsies who were accused of +several robberies and murders which had happened +recently in the neighborhood. The men were +brought to the castle court-yard, fettered together<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span> +on a long chain, while the women and children were +packed on a cart. Noticeable among the last was +a tall, haggard old woman of terrifying aspect, +wrapped from head to foot in a red shawl. She +stood upright in the cart, and in an imperious tone +demanded that she should be allowed to descend. +The guards were so awed by her manner and appearance +that they obeyed her at once.</p> + +<p>“Count Z—— came down to the courtyard and +commanded that the gang should be placed in the +prisons under the castle. Suddenly Countess Angelica +rushed out of the door, her hair all loose, fear +and anxiety in her pale face. Throwing herself on +her knees, she cried in a piercing voice, ‘Let these +people go! Let these people go! They are innocent! +Father, let these people go! If you shed one +drop of their blood I will pierce my heart with this +knife!’ The Countess swung a shining knife in the +air and then sank swooning to the ground. ‘Yes, my +beautiful darling—my golden child—I knew you +would not let them hurt us,’ shrilled the old woman +in red. She cowered beside the Countess and pressed +disgusting kisses to her face and breast, murmuring +crazy words. She took from out the recesses of her +shawl a little vial in which a tiny goldfish seemed to +swim in some silver-clear liquid. She held the vial +to the Countess’s heart. The latter regained consciousness +immediately. When her eyes fell on the +gypsy woman, she sprang up, clasped the old creature +ardently in her arms, and hurried with her into the +castle.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> + +<p>“Count Z——, Gabrielle, and her lover, who had +come out during this scene, watched it in astonished +awe. The gypsies appeared quite indifferent. They +were loosed from their chains and taken separately +to the prisons. Next morning Count Z—— called +the villagers together. The gypsies were led before +them and the Count announced that he had found +them to be innocent of the crimes of which they were +accused, and that he would grant them free passage +through his domains. To the astonishment of all +present, their fetters were struck off and they were +set at liberty. The red-shawled woman was not +among them. It was whispered that the gypsy captain, +recognizable from the golden chain about his +neck and the red feather in his high Spanish hat, +had paid a secret visit to the Count’s room the night +before. But it was discovered a short time after the +release of the gypsies, that they were indeed guiltless +of the robberies and murders that had disturbed the +district.</p> + +<p>“The date set for Gabrielle’s wedding approached. +One day, to her great astonishment, she saw several +large wagons in the courtyard being packed high +with furniture, clothing, linen, with everything necessary +for a complete household outfit. The wagons +were driven away, and the following day Count +Z—— explained that, for many reasons, he had +thought it best to grant Angelica’s odd request that +she be allowed to set up her own establishment in his +house in X——. He had given the house to her, +and had promised her that no member of the family,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span> +not even he himself, should enter it without her express +permission. He added also, that, at her urgent +request, he had permitted his own valet to accompany +her, to take charge of her household.</p> + +<p>“When the wedding festivities were over, Count +S—— and his bride departed for their home, where +they spent a year in cloudless happiness. Then the +Count’s health failed mysteriously. It was as if +some secret sorrow gnawed at his vitals, robbing him +of joy and strength. All efforts of his young wife to +discover the source of his trouble were fruitless. At +last, when the constantly recurring fainting spells +threatened to endanger his very life, he yielded to +the entreaties of his physicians and left his home, +ostensibly for Pisa. His young wife was prevented +from accompanying him by the delicate condition of +her own health.</p> + +<p>“And now,” said the doctor, “the information +given me by Countess S—— became, from this point +on, so rhapsodical that a keen observer only could +guess at the true coherence of the story. Her baby, +a daughter, born during her husband’s absence, was +spirited away from the house, and all search for it +was fruitless. Her grief at this loss deepened to +despair, when she received a message from her +father stating that her husband, whom all believed +to be in Pisa, had been found dying of heart trouble +in Angelica’s home in X——, and that Angelica herself +had become a dangerous maniac. The old Count +added that all this horror had so shaken his own +nerves that he feared he would not long survive it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></p> + +<p>“As soon as Gabrielle was able to leave her bed, +she hurried to her father’s castle. One night, prevented +from sleeping by visions of the loved ones she +had lost, she seemed to hear a faint crying, like that +of an infant, before the door of her chamber. Lighting +her candle she opened the door. Great Heaven! +there cowered the old gypsy woman, wrapped in her +red shawl, staring up at her with eyes that seemed +already glazing in death. In her arms she held a +little child, whose crying had aroused the Countess. +Gabrielle’s heart beat high with joy—it was her +child—her lost daughter! She snatched the infant +from the gypsy’s arms, just as the woman fell at her +feet lifeless. The Countess’ screams awoke the house, +but the gypsy was quite dead and no effort to revive +her met with success.</p> + +<p>“The old Count hurried to X—— to endeavor +to discover something that would throw light upon +the mysterious disappearance and reappearance of +the child. Angelica’s madness had frightened away +all her female servants; the valet alone remained +with her. She appeared at first to have become quite +calm and sensible. But when the Count told her the +story of Gabrielle’s child she clapped her hands and +laughed aloud, crying: ‘Did the little darling arrive? +You buried her, you say? How the feathers of the +gold pheasant shine in the sun! Have you seen the +green lion with the fiery blue eyes?’ Horrified the +Count perceived that Angelica’s mind was gone beyond +a doubt, and he resolved to take her back with +him to his estates, in spite of the warnings of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span> +old valet. At the mere suggestion of removing her +from the house Angelica’s ravings increased to such +an extent as to endanger her own life and that of the +others.</p> + +<p>“When a lucid interval came again Angelica entreated +her father, with many tears, to let her live +and die in the house she had chosen. Touched by +her terrible trouble, he granted her request, although +he believed the confession which slipped from her +lips during this scene to be a fantasy of her madness. +She told him that Count S—— had returned to her +arms, and that the child which the gipsy had taken +to her father’s house was the fruit of their love. The +rumor went abroad in the city that Count Z—— had +taken the unfortunate woman to his home; but the +truth was that she remained hidden in the deserted +house under the care of the valet. Count Z—— +died a short time ago, and Countess Gabrielle came +here with her daughter Edwina to arrange some +family affairs. It was not possible for her to avoid +seeing her unfortunate sister. Strange things must +have happened during this visit, but the Countess +has not confided anything to me, saying merely that +she had found it necessary to take the mad woman +away from the old valet. It had been discovered +that he had controlled her outbreaks by means of +force and physical cruelty; and that also, allured by +Angelica’s assertions that she could make gold, he +had allowed himself to assist her in her weird operations.</p> + +<p>“I would be quite unnecessary,” thus the physician<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> +ended his story, “to say anything more to you about +the deeper inward relationship of all these strange +things. It is clear to my mind that it was you who +brought about the catastrophe, a catastrophe which +will mean recovery or speedy death for the sick +woman. And now I will confess to you that I was +not a little alarmed, horrified, even, to discover that—when +I had set myself in magnetic communication +with you by placing my hand on your neck—I could +see the picture in the mirror with my own eyes. We +both know now that the reflection in the glass was +the face of Countess Edwina.”</p> + +<p>I repeat Dr. K——’s words in saying that, to my +mind also, there is no further comment that can be +made on all these facts. I consider it equally unnecessary +to discuss at any further length with you now +the mysterious relationship between Angelica, Edwina, +the old valet, and myself—a relationship which +seemed the work of a malicious demon who was +playing his tricks with us. I will add only that I +left the city soon after all these events, driven from +the place by an oppression I could not shake off. +The uncanny sensation left me suddenly a month or +so later, giving way to a feeling of intense relief that +flowed through all my veins with the warmth of an +electric current. I am convinced that this change +within me came about in the moment when the mad +woman died.</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c4">THE ADELANTADO OF THE SEVEN<br> +CITIES</h2> +</div> + + +<p class="c large"><span class="smcap">A Legend of St. Brandan, the Phantom Isle</span></p> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Washington Irving</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>From “Wolfert’s Roost.”</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap large">In</span> the early part of the fifteenth century, when +Prince Henry of Portugal was pushing the career of +discovery along the western coast of Africa, and the +world was resounding with reports of golden regions +on the mainland, and new-found islands in the ocean, +there arrived at Lisbon an old bewildered pilot of +the seas, who had been driven by tempests, he knew +not whither, and raved about an island far in the +deep, upon which he had landed, and which he had +found peopled with Christians and adorned with +noble cities.</p> + +<p>The inhabitants, he said, having never before been +visited by a ship, gathered round, and regarded him +with surprise. They told him they were descendants +of a band of Christians, who fled from Spain +when that country was conquered by the Moslems. +They were curious about the state of their fatherland, +and grieved to hear that the Moslems still held<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span> +possession of the kingdom of Granada. They would +have taken the old navigator to church, to convince +him of their orthodoxy; but, either through lack of +devotion, or lack of faith in their words, he declined +their invitation, and preferred to return on board +of his ship. He was properly punished. A furious +storm arose, drove him from his anchorage, hurried +him out to sea, and he saw no more of the unknown +island.</p> + +<p>This strange story caused great marvel in Lisbon +and elsewhere. Those versed in history remembered +to have read, in an ancient chronicle, that, at +the time of the conquest of Spain, in the eighth century, +when the blessed cross was cast down and the +crescent erected in its place, and when Christian +churches were turned into Moslem mosques, seven +bishops, at the head of seven bands of pious exiles, +had fled from the peninsula, and embarked in quest +of some ocean island, or distant land, where they +might found seven Christian cities, and enjoy their +faith unmolested.</p> + +<p>The fate of these saints errant had hitherto remained +a mystery, and their story had faded from +memory; the report of the old tempest-tossed pilot, +however, revived this long-forgotten theme; and it +was determined by the pious and enthusiastic that the +island thus accidentally discovered was the identical +place of refuge whither the wandering bishops had +been guided by a protecting Providence, and where +they had folded their flocks.</p> + +<p>This most excitable of worlds has always some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span> +darling object of chimerical enterprise; the “Island +of the Seven Cities” now awakened as much interest +and longing among zealous Christians as has the +renowned city of Timbuctoo among adventurous +travelers, or the Northeast passage among hardy +navigators; and it was a frequent prayer of the +devout, that these scattered and lost portions of the +Christian family might be discovered and reunited +to the great body of Christendom.</p> + +<p>No one, however, entered into the matter with +half the zeal of Don Fernando de Ulmo, a young +cavalier of high standing in the Portuguese court, +and of most sanguine and romantic temperament. +He had recently come to his estate, and had run the +round of all kinds of pleasures and excitements when +this new theme of popular talk and wonder presented +itself. The Island of the Seven Cities became now +the constant subject of his thoughts by day and his +dreams by night; it even rivaled his passion for a +beautiful girl, one of the greatest belles of Lisbon, +to whom he was betrothed. At length his imagination +became so inflamed on the subject, that he determined +to fit out an expedition, at his own expense, +and set sail in quest of this sainted island. It could +not be a cruise of any great extent; for, according +to the calculations of the tempest-tossed pilot, it must +be somewhere in the latitude of the Canaries; which +at that time, when the new world was as yet undiscovered, +formed the frontier of ocean enterprise. +Don Fernando applied to the crown for countenance +and protection. As he was a favorite at court, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> +usual patronage was readily extended to him; that +is to say, he received a commission from the king, +Don Ioam II., constituting him Adelantado, or military +governor, of any country he might discover, +with the single proviso, that he should bear all the +expenses of the discovery, and pay a tenth of the +profits to the crown.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando now set to work in the true spirit +of a projector. He sold acre after acre of solid +land, and invested the proceeds in ships, guns, ammunition, +and sea-stores. Even his old family +mansion in Lisbon was mortgaged without scruple, +for he looked forward to a palace in one of the +Seven Cities, of which he was to be Adelantado. +This was the age of nautical romance, when the +thoughts of all speculative dreamers were turned to +the ocean. The scheme of Don Fernando, therefore, +drew adventurers of every kind.</p> + +<p>One person alone regarded the whole project with +sovereign contempt and growing hostility. This was +Don Ramiro Alvarez, the father of the beautiful +Serafina, to whom Don Fernando was betrothed. He +was one of those perverse, matter-of-fact old men, +who are prone to oppose everything speculative and +romantic. He had no faith in the Island of the Seven +Cities; regarded the projected cruise as a crack-brained +freak; looked with angry eye and internal +heart-burning on the conduct of his intended son-in-law, +chaffering away solid lands for lands in the +moon; and scoffingly dubbed him Adelantado of +Cloud Land. In fact, he had never really relished<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> +the intended match, to which his consent had been +slowly extorted by the tears and entreaties of his +daughter. It is true he could have no reasonable +objections to the youth, for Don Fernando was the +very flower of Portuguese chivalry. No one could +excel him at the tilting match, or the riding at the +ring; none was more bold and dexterous in the bull +fight; none composed more gallant madrigals in +praise of his lady’s charms, or sang them with +sweeter tones to the accompaniment of her guitar; +nor could any one handle the castanets and dance the +bolero with more captivating grace. All these admirable +qualities and endowments, however, though +they had been sufficient to win the heart of Serafina, +were nothing in the eyes of her unreasonable father.</p> + +<p>The engagement to Serafina had threatened at first +to throw an obstacle in the way of the expedition of +Don Fernando, and for a time perplexed him in the +extreme. He was passionately attached to the young +lady; but he was also passionately bent on this romantic +enterprise. How should he reconcile the two +passionate inclinations? A simple and obvious arrangement +at length presented itself,—marry Serafina, +enjoy a portion of the honeymoon at once, and +defer the rest until his return from the discovery of +the Seven Cities!</p> + +<p>He hastened to make known this most excellent +arrangement to Don Ramiro, when the long smothered +wrath of the old cavalier burst forth. He +reproached him with being the dupe of wandering +vagabonds and wild schemers, and with squandering<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span> +all his real possession, in pursuit of empty bubbles. +Don Fernando was too sanguine a projector, and too +young a man, to listen tamely to such language. A +high quarrel ensued; Don Ramiro pronounced him +a madman, and forbade all farther intercourse with +his daughter until he should give proof of returning +sanity by abandoning this madcap enterprise; while +Don Fernando flung out of the house, more bent +than ever on the expedition, from the idea of triumphing +over the incredulity of the graybeard, when +he should return successful. Don Ramiro’s heart +misgave him. Who knows, thought he, but this +crack-brained visionary may persuade my daughter +to elope with him, and share his throne in this unknown +paradise of fools? If I could only keep her +safe until his ships are fairly out at sea!</p> + +<p>He repaired to her apartment, represented to her +the sanguine, unsteady character of her lover and +the chimerical value of his schemes, and urged the +propriety of suspending all intercourse with him until +he should recover from his present hallucination. +She bowed her head as if in filial acquiescence, whereupon +he folded her to his bosom with parental fondness +and kissed away a tear that was stealing over +her cheek, but as he left the chamber quietly turned +the key in the lock; for though he was a fond father +and had a high opinion of the submissive temper of +his child, he had a still higher opinion of the conservative +virtues of lock and key, and determined +to trust to them until the caravels should sail. +Whether the damsel had been in anywise shaken in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> +her faith as to the schemes of her father’s eloquence, +tradition does not say; but certain it is, that, the +moment she heard the key turn in the lock, she became +a firm believer in the Island of the Seven Cities.</p> + +<p>The door was locked; but her will was unconfined. +A window of the chamber opened into one of those +stone balconies, secured by iron bars, which project +like huge cages from Portuguese and Spanish houses. +Within this balcony the beautiful Serafina had her +birds and flowers, and here she was accustomed to +sit on moonlight nights as in a bower, and touch her +guitar and sing like a wakeful nightingale. From +this balcony an intercourse was now maintained between +the lovers, against which the lock and key of +Don Ramiro were of no avail. All day would +Fernando be occupied hurrying the equipments of his +ships, but evening found him in sweet discourse beneath +his lady’s window.</p> + +<p>At length the preparations were completed. Two +gallant caravels lay at anchor in the Tagus ready to +sail at sunrise. Late at night by the pale light of +a waning moon the lover had his last interview. +The beautiful Serafina was sad at heart and full of +dark forebodings; her lover full of hope and confidence. +“A few short months,” said he, “and I shall +return in triumph. Thy father will then blush at +his incredulity, and hasten to welcome to his house +the Adelantado of the Seven Cities.”</p> + +<p>The gentle lady shook her head. It was not on +this point she felt distrust. She was a thorough believer +in the Island of the Seven Cities, and so sure<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span> +of the success of the enterprise that she might have +been tempted to join it had not the balcony been +high and the grating strong. Other considerations +induced that dubious shaking of the head. She had +heard of the inconstancy of the seas, and the inconstancy +of those who roam them. Might not Fernando +meet with other loves in foreign ports? +Might not some peerless beauty in one or other of +those Seven Cities efface the image of Serafina from +his mind?</p> + +<p>She ventured to express her doubt, but he spurned +at the very idea. “What! be false to Serafina! He +bow at the shrine of another beauty? Never! +Never!” Repeatedly did he bend his knee, and +smite his breast, and call upon the silver moon to +witness his sincerity and truth.</p> + +<p>He retorted the doubt, “Might not Serafina herself +forget her plighted faith? Might not some +wealthier rival present himself while he was tossing +on the sea; and, backed by her father’s wishes, win +the treasure of her hand!”</p> + +<p>The beautiful Serafina raised her white arms between +the iron bars of the balcony, and, like her +lover, invoked the moon to testify her vows. Alas! +how little did Fernando know her heart. The more +her father should oppose, the more would she be +fixed in faith. Though years should intervene, Fernando +on his return would find her true. Even +should the salt sea swallow him up, never would +she be the wife of another! Never, <i>never</i>, <span class="allsmcap">NEVER</span>! +She drew from her finger a ring gemmed with a ruby<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span> +heart, and dropped it from the balcony, a parting +pledge of constancy.</p> + +<p>With the morning dawn the caravels dropped +down the Tagus, and put to sea. They steered for +the Canaries, in those days the regions of nautical +discovery and romance, and the outposts of the +known world, for as yet Columbus had not steered +his daring barks across the ocean. Scarce had they +reached those latitudes when they were separated by +a violent tempest. For many days was the caravel +of Don Fernando driven about at the mercy of the +elements; all seamanship was baffled, destruction +seemed inevitable and the crew were in despair. All +at once the storm subsided; the ocean sank into a +calm; the clouds which had veiled the face of heaven +were suddenly withdrawn, and the tempest-tossed +mariners beheld a fair and mountainous island, +emerging as if by enchantment from the murky +gloom. They rubbed their eyes and gazed for a +time almost incredulously, yet there lay the island +spread out in lovely landscapes, with the late stormy +sea laving its shores with peaceful billows.</p> + +<p>The pilot of the caravel consulted his maps and +charts; no island like the one before him was laid +down as existing in those parts; it is true he had lost +his reckoning in the late storm, but, according to his +calculations, he could not be far from the Canaries; +and this was not one of that group of islands. The +caravel now lay perfectly becalmed off the mouth +of a river, on the banks of which, about a league<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span> +from the sea, was descried a noble city, with lofty +walls and towers, and a protecting castle.</p> + +<p>After a time, a stately barge with sixteen oars was +seen emerging from the river, and approaching the +caravel. It was quaintly carved and gilt; the oarsmen +were clad in antique garb, their oars painted of +a bright crimson, and they came slowly and solemnly, +keeping time as they rowed to the cadence of an old +Spanish ditty. Under a silken canopy in the stern, +sat a cavalier richly clad, and over his head was a +banner bearing the sacred emblem of the cross.</p> + +<p>When the barge reached the caravel, the cavalier +stepped on board. He was tall and gaunt; with a +long Spanish visage, moustaches that curled up to +his eyes, and a forked beard. He wore gauntlets +reaching to his elbows, a Toledo blade strutting out +behind, with a basket hilt, in which he carried his +handkerchief. His air was lofty and precise, and +bespoke indisputably the hidalgo. Thrusting out a +long spindle leg, he took off a huge sombrero, and +swaying it until the feather swept the ground, accosted +Don Fernando in the old Castilian language, +and with the old Castilian courtesy, welcoming him +to the Island of the Seven Cities.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando was overwhelmed with astonishment. +Could this be true? Had he really been +tempest-driven to the very land of which he was in +quest?</p> + +<p>It was even so. That very day the inhabitants +were holding high festival in commemoration of the +escape of their ancestors from the Moors. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span> +arrival of the caravel at such a juncture was considered +a good omen, the accomplishment of an ancient +prophecy through which the island was to be restored +to the great community of Christendom. The cavalier +before him was grand chamberlain, sent by the +alcayde to invite him to the festivities of the capital.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando could scarce believe that this was +not all a dream. He had known his name and the +object of his voyage. The grand chamberlain declared +that all was in perfect accordance with the +ancient prophecy, and that the moment his credentials +were presented, he would be acknowledged as +the Adelantado of the Seven Cities. In the meantime +the day was waning; the barge was ready to +convey him to the land, and would as assuredly bring +him back.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando’s pilot, a veteran of the seas, drew +him aside and expostulated against his venturing, on +the mere word of a stranger, to land in a strange +barge on an unknown shore. “Who knows, Señor, +what land this is, or what people inhabit it?”</p> + +<p>Don Fernando was not to be dissuaded. Had he +not believed in this island when all the world +doubted? Had he not sought it in defiance of storm +and tempest, and was he now to shrink from its +shores when they lay before him in calm weather? +In a word, was not faith the very corner-stone of his +enterprise?</p> + +<p>Having arrayed himself, therefore, in gala dress +befitting the occasion, he took his seat in the barge. +The grand chamberlain seated himself opposite.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span> +The rowers plied their oars, and renewed the mournful +old ditty, and the gorgeous but unwieldly barge +moved slowly through the water.</p> + +<p>The night closed in before they entered the river, +and swept along past rock and promontory, each +guarded by its tower. At every post they were challenged +by the sentinel.</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?”</p> + +<p>“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.”</p> + +<p>“Welcome, Señor Adelantado. Pass on.”</p> + +<p>Entering the harbor they rowed close by an armed +galley of ancient form. Soldiers with crossbows +patroled the deck.</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?”</p> + +<p>“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.”</p> + +<p>“Welcome, Señor Adelantado. Pass on.”</p> + +<p>They landed at a broad flight of stone steps, leading +up between two massive towers, and knocked at +the water-gate. A sentinel, in ancient steel casque, +looked from the barbican.</p> + +<p>“Who is there?”</p> + +<p>“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.”</p> + +<p>“Welcome, Señor Adelantado.”</p> + +<p>The gate swung open, grating upon rusty hinges. +They entered between two rows of warriors in +Gothic armor, with crossbows, maces, battle-axes, +and faces old-fashioned as their armor. There +were processions through the streets, in commemoration +of the landing of the seven bishops and their +followers, and bonfires at which effigies of Moors +expiated their invasion of Christendom by a kind<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span> +of auto-da-fé. The groups round the fires, uncouth +in their attire, looked like the fantastic figures that +roam the streets in carnival time. Even the dames +who gazed down from Gothic balconies hung with +antique tapestry, resembled effigies dressed up in +Christmas mummeries. Everything, in short, bore +the stamp of former ages, as if the world had suddenly +rolled back for several centuries. Nor was +this to be wondered at. Had not the Island of the +Seven Cities been cut off from the rest of the world +for several hundred years; and were not these the +modes and customs of Gothic Spain before it was +conquered by the Moors?</p> + +<p>Arrived at the palace of the alcayde, the grand +chamberlain knocked at the portal. The porter +looked through a wicket, and demanded who was +there.</p> + +<p>“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.”</p> + +<p>The portal was thrown wide open. The grand +chamberlain led the way up a vast, heavily molded, +marble staircase, and into a hall of ceremony, where +was the alcayde with several of the principal dignitaries +of the city, who had a marvelous resemblance, +in form and feature, to the quaint figures in old illuminated +manuscripts.</p> + +<p>The grand chamberlain stepped forward and announced +the name and title of the stranger guest, +and the extraordinary nature of his mission. The +announcement appeared to create no extraordinary +emotion or surprise, but to be received as the anticipated +fulfilment of a prophecy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span></p> + +<p>The reception of Don Fernando, however, was +profoundly gracious, though in the same style of +stately courtesy which everywhere prevailed. He +would have produced his credentials, but this was +courteously declined. The evening was devoted to +high festivity; the following day, when he should +enter the port with his caravel, would be devoted +to business, when the credentials would be received +in due form, and he inducted into office as Adelantado +of the Seven Cities.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando was now conducted through one +of those interminable suites of apartments, the pride +of Spanish palaces, all furnished in a style of obsolete +magnificence. In a vast saloon, blazing with +tapers, was assembled all the aristocracy and fashion +of the city,—stately dames and cavaliers, the very +counterpart of the figures in the tapestry which decorated +the walls. Fernando gazed in silent marvel. +It was a reflex of the proud aristocracy of Spain in +the time of Roderick the Goth.</p> + +<p>The festivities of the evening were all in the style +of solemn and antiquated ceremonial. There was +a dance, but it was as if the old tapestry were put +in motion, and all the figures moving in stately measure +about the floor. There was one exception, and +one that told powerfully upon the susceptible Adalantado. +The alcayde’s daughter—such a ripe, melting +beauty! Her dress, it is true, like the dresses of +her neighbors, might have been worn before the +flood, but she had the black Andalusian eye, a glance +of which, through its long dark lashes, is irresistible.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span> +Her voice, too, her manner, her undulating movements, +all smacked of Andalusia, and showed how +female charms may be transmitted from age to age, +and clime to clime, without ever going out of fashion.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando sat beside her at the banquet! such +an old-world feast! such obsolete dainties! At the +head of the table the peacock, that bird of state and +ceremony, was served up in full plumage on a golden +dish. As Don Fernando cast his eyes down the glittering +board, what a vista presented itself of odd +heads and head-dresses; of formal bearded dignitaries, +and stately dames, with castellated locks and +towering plumes! Is it to be wondered at that he +should turn with delight from these antiquated figures +to the alcayde’s daughter, all smiles and +dimples, and melting looks and melting accents? +Besides, he was in a particularly excitable mood from +the novelty of the scene before him, from this realization +of all his hopes and fancies, and from frequent +draughts of the wine-cup, presented to him at +every moment by officious pages during the banquet.</p> + +<p>In a word—there is no concealing the matter—before +the evening was over, Don Fernando was +making love outright to the alcayde’s daughter. +They had wandered together to a moon-lit balcony +of the palace, and he was charming her ear with one +of those love-ditties with which, in a like balcony, +he had serenaded the beautiful Serafina.</p> + +<p>The damsel hung her head coyly. “Ah! Señor, +these are flattering words; but you cavaliers, who +roam the seas, are unsteady as its waves. To-morrow<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> +you will be throned in state, Adelantado of the +Seven Cities; and will think no more of the alcayde’s +daughter.”</p> + +<p>Don Fernando in the intoxication of the moment +called the moon to witness his sincerity. As he +raised his hand in adjuration, the chaste moon cast +a ray upon the ring that sparkled on his finger. It +caught the damsel’s eye. “Signor Adelantado,” said +she archly, “I have no great faith in the moon, but +give me that ring upon your finger in pledge of the +truth of what you profess.”</p> + +<p>The gallant Adelantado was taken by surprise; +there was no parrying this sudden appeal; before he +had time to reflect, the ring of the beautiful Serafina +glittered on the finger of the alcayde’s daughter.</p> + +<p>At this eventful moment the chamberlain approached +with lofty demeanor, and announced that +the barge was waiting to bear him back to the caravel. +I forbear to relate the ceremonious partings +with the alcayde and his dignitaries, and the tender +farewell of the alcayde’s daughter. He took his +seat in the barge opposite the grand chamberlain. +The rowers plied their crimson oars in the same slow +and stately manner, to the cadence of the same +mournful old ditty. His brain was in a whirl with +all that he had seen, and his heart now and then +gave him a twinge as he thought of his temporary +infidelity to the beautiful Serafina. The barge sallied +out into the sea, but no caravel was to be seen; +doubtless she had been carried to a distance by the +current of the river. The oarsmen rowed on; their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span> +monotonous chant had a lulling effect. A drowsy +influence crept over Don Fernando. Objects swam +before his eyes. The oarsmen assumed odd shapes +as in a dream. The grand chamberlain grew larger +and larger, and taller and taller. He took off his +huge sombrero, and held it over the head of Don +Fernando, like an extinguisher over a candle. The +latter cowered beneath it; he felt himself sinking +in the socket.</p> + +<p>“Good night! Señor Adelantado of the Seven +Cities!” said the grand chamberlain.</p> + +<p>The sombrero slowly descended—Don Fernando +was extinguished!</p> + +<p>How long he remained extinct no mortal man can +tell. When he returned to consciousness, he found +himself in a strange cabin, surrounded by strangers. +He rubbed his eyes, and looked round him wildly. +Where was he?—On board a Portuguese ship, +bound to Lisbon. How came he there?—He had +been taken senseless from a wreck drifting about the +ocean.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando was more and more confounded +and perplexed. He recalled, one by one, everything +that had happened to him in the Island of the Seven +Cities, until he had been extinguished by the sombrero +of the grand chamberlain. But what had +happened to him since? What had become of his +caravel? Was it the wreck of her on which he had +been found floating?</p> + +<p>The people about him could give no information +on the subject. He entreated them to take him to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> +the Island of the Seven Cities, which could not be +far off; told them all that had befallen him there; +that he had but to land to be received as Adelantado; +when he would reward them magnificently for their +services.</p> + +<p>They regarded his words as the ravings of delirium, +and in their honest solicitude for the restoration +of his reason, administered such rough remedies that +he was fain to drop the subject and observe a cautious +taciturnity.</p> + +<p>At length they arrived in the Tagus, and anchored +before the famous city of Lisbon. Don Fernando +sprang joyfully on shore, and hastened to his ancestral +mansion. A strange porter opened the door, +who knew nothing of him or his family; no people +of the name had inhabited the house for many a year.</p> + +<p>He sought the mansion of Don Ramiro. He approached +the balcony beneath which he had bidden +farewell to Serafina. Did his eyes deceive him? +No! There was Serafina herself among the flowers +in the balcony. He raised his arms toward her with +an exclamation of rapture. She cast upon him a +look of indignation, and hastily retiring, closed the +casement with a slam that testified her displeasure.</p> + +<p>Could she have heard of his flirtation with the +alcayde’s daughter? But that was mere transient +gallantry. A moment’s interview would dispel every +doubt of his constancy.</p> + +<p>He rang at the door; as it was opened by the +porter he rushed up-stairs; sought the well-known +chamber, and threw himself at the feet of Serafina.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span> +She started back with affright, and took refuge in +the arms of a youthful cavalier.</p> + +<p>“What mean you, Señor,” cried the latter, “by +this intrusion?”</p> + +<p>“What right have you to ask the question?” demanded +Don Fernando fiercely.</p> + +<p>“The right of an affianced suitor!”</p> + +<p>Don Fernando started and turned pale. “Oh, +Serafina! Serafina!” cried he, in a tone of agony; +“is this thy plighted constancy?”</p> + +<p>“Serafina? What mean you by Serafina, Señor? +If this be the lady you intend, her name is Maria.”</p> + +<p>“May I not believe my senses? May I not believe +my heart?” cried Don Fernando. “Is not this Serafina +Alvarez, the original of yon portrait, which, +less fickle than herself, still smiles on me from the +wall?”</p> + +<p>“Holy Virgin!” cried the young lady, casting her +eyes upon the portrait. “He is talking of my great-grand-mother!”</p> + +<p>An explanation ensued, if that could be called an +explanation which plunged the unfortunate Fernando +into tenfold perplexity. If he might believe his eyes, +he saw before him his beloved Serafina; if he might +believe his ears, it was merely her hereditary form +and features, perpetuated in the person of her great-granddaughter.</p> + +<p>His brain began to spin. He sought the office of +the Minister of Marine, and made a report of his +expedition, and of the Island of the Seven Cities, +which he had so fortunately discovered. Nobody<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span> +knew anything of such an expedition, or such an +island. He declared that he had undertaken the +enterprise under a formal contract with the crown, +and had received a regular commission, constituting +him Adelantado. This must be matter of record, +and he insisted loudly that the books of the department +should be consulted. The wordy strife at +length attracted the attention of an old gray-headed +clerk, who sat perched on a high stool, at a high +desk, with iron-rimmed spectacles on the top of a +thin, pinched nose, copying records into an enormous +folio. He had wintered and summered in the department +for a great part of a century, until he had +almost grown to be a piece of the desk at which he +sat; his memory was a mere index of official facts +and documents, and his brain was little better than +red tape and parchment. After peering down for +a time from his lofty perch, and ascertaining the +matter in controversy, he put his pen behind his ear, +and descended. He remembered to have heard +something from his predecessor about an expedition +of the kind in question, but then it had sailed during +the reign of Don Ioam II., and he had been dead +at least a hundred years. To put the matter beyond +dispute, however, the archives of the Tore do +Tombo, that sepulchre of old Portuguese documents, +were diligently searched, and a record was found of +a contract between the crown and one Fernando de +Ulmo, for the discovery of the Island of the Seven +Cities, and of a commission secured to him as Adelantado +of the country he might discover.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span></p> + +<p>“There!” cried Don Fernando, triumphantly, +“there you have proof, before your own eyes, of +what I have said. I am the Fernando de Ulmo +specified in that record. I have discovered the Island +of the Seven Cities, and am entitled to be Adelantado, +according to contract.”</p> + +<p>The story of Don Fernando had certainly, what +is pronounced the best of historical foundation, documentary +evidence; but when a man, in the bloom of +youth, talked of events that had taken place above +a century previously, as having happened to himself, +it is no wonder that he was set down for a madman.</p> + +<p>The old clerk looked at him from above and below +his spectacles, shrugged his shoulders, stroked +his chin, reascended his lofty stool, took the pen +from behind his ears, and resumed his daily and +eternal task, copying records into the fiftieth volume +of a series of gigantic folios. The other clerks +winked, at each other shrewdly, and dispersed to +their several places, and poor Don Fernando, thus +left to himself, flung out of the office, almost driven +wild by these repeated perplexities.</p> + +<p>In the confusion of his mind, he instinctively repaired +to the mansion of Alvarez, but it was barred +against him. To break the delusion under which +the youth apparently labored, and to convince him +that the Serafina about whom he raved was really +dead, he was conducted to her tomb. There she +lay, a stately matron, cut out in alabaster; and there +lay her husband beside her, a portly cavalier, in +armor; and there knelt on each side, the effigies of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span> +a numerous progeny. Even the very monument gave +evidence of the lapse of time; the hands of her husband, +folded as if in prayer, had lost their fingers, +and the face of the once lovely Serafina was without +a nose.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando felt a transient glow of indignation +at beholding this monumental proof of the inconstancy +of his mistress; but who could expect a mistress +to remain constant during a whole century of +absence? And what right had he to rail about constancy, +after what had passed between himself and +the alcayde’s daughter? The unfortunate cavalier +performed one pious act of tender devotion; he had +the alabaster nose of Serafina restored by a skillful +statuary, and then tore himself from the tomb.</p> + +<p>He could now no longer doubt the fact that, somehow +or other, he had skipped over a whole century, +during the night he had spent at the Island of the +Seven Cities; and he was now as complete a stranger +in his native city, as if he had never been there. A +thousand times did he wish himself back to that +wonderful island, with its antiquated banquet halls, +where he had been so courteously received; and now +that the once young and beautiful Serafina was nothing +but a great-grandmother in marble, with generations +of descendants, a thousand times would he recall +the melting black eyes of the alcayde’s daughter, +who doubtless, like himself, was still flourishing in +fresh juvenility, and breathe a secret wish that he +was seated by her side.</p> + +<p>He would at once have set on foot another expedition,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span> +at his own expense, to cruise in search of the +sainted island, but his means were exhausted. He +endeavored to rouse others to the enterprise, setting +forth the certainty of profitable results, of which his +own experience furnished such unquestionable proof. +Alas! no one would give faith to his tale; but looked +upon it as the feverish dream of a shipwrecked man. +He persisted in his efforts; holding forth in all places +and all companies, until he became an object of jest +and jeer to the light-minded, who mistook his earnest +enthusiasm for a proof of insanity; and the very +children in the streets bantered him with the title of +“The Adelantado of the Seven Cities.”</p> + +<p>Finding all efforts in vain, in his native city of +Lisbon, he took shipping for the Canaries, as being +nearer the latitude of his former cruise, and inhabited +by people given to nautical adventure. Here +he found ready listeners to his story; for the old +pilots and mariners of those parts were notorious +island-hunters, and devout believers in all the wonders +of the seas. Indeed, one and all treated his adventure +as a common occurrence, and turning to each +other, with a sagacious nod of the head, observed, +“He has been at the island of St. Brandan.”</p> + +<p>They then went on to inform him of that great +marvel and enigma of the ocean; of its repeated appearance +to the inhabitants of their islands; and of +the many but ineffectual expeditions that had been +made in search of it. They took him to a promontory +of the island of Palma, whence the shadowy St. +Brandan had oftenest been descried, and they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span> +pointed out the very tract in the west where its mountains +had been seen.</p> + +<p>Don Fernando listened with rapt attention. He +had no longer a doubt that this mysterious and fugacious +island must be the same with that of the +Seven Cities; and that some supernatural influence +connected with it had operated upon himself, and +made the events of a night occupy the space of a +century.</p> + +<p>He endeavored, but in vain, to rouse the islanders +to another attempt at discovery; they had given up +the phantom island as indeed inaccessible. Fernando, +however, was not to be discouraged. The +idea wore itself deeper and deeper in his mind, until +it became the engrossing subject of his thoughts and +object of his being. Every morning he would repair +to the promontory of Palma, and sit there throughout +the livelong day, in hopes of seeing the fairy +mountains of St. Brandan peering above the horizon; +every evening he returned to his home, a disappointed +man, but ready to resume his post on the +following morning.</p> + +<p>His assiduity was all in vain. He grew gray in his +ineffectual attempt; and was at length found dead +at his post. His grave is still shown in the island of +Palma, and a cross is erected on the spot where he +used to sit and look out upon the sea, in hopes of +the reappearance of the phantom island.</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c5">THE PIPE</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large"><span class="smcap">Anonymous</span></p> + + +<p class="c large">I</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +<p> +                                          “<span class="smcap">Randolph Crescent, N. W.</span> +<br> + +“<span class="smcap">My dear Pugh</span>—I hope you will like the pipe +which I send with this. It is rather a curious example +of a certain school of Indian carving. And is +a present from</p> + +<p class="r"> +“Yours truly,       <span class="smcap">Joseph Tress</span>.” +</p> +</div> + +<p>It was really very handsome of Tress—very +handsome! The more especially as I was aware +that to give presents was not exactly in Tress’s line. +The truth is that when I saw what manner of pipe +it was, I was amazed. It was contained in a sandalwood +box, which was itself illustrated with some +remarkable specimens of carving. I use the word +“remarkable” advisedly, because, although the workmanship +was undoubtedly, in its way, artistic, the +result could not be described as beautiful. The +carver had thought proper to ornament the box with +some of the ugliest figures I remember to have seen. +They appeared to me to be devils. Or perhaps +they were intended to represent deities appertaining +to some mythological system with which, thank goodness,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span> +I am unacquainted. The pipe itself was worthy +of the case in which it was contained. It was of +meerschaum, with an amber mouthpiece. It was +rather too large for ordinary smoking. But then, +of course, one doesn’t smoke a pipe like that. There +are pipes in my collection which I should as soon +think of smoking as I should of eating. Ask a china +maniac to let you have afternoon tea out of his Old +Chelsea, and you will learn some home truths as to +the durability of human friendships. The glory of +the pipe, as Tress had suggested, lay in its carving. +Not that I claim that it was beautiful, any more than +I make such a claim for the carving on the box, but, +as Tress said in his note, it was curious.</p> + +<p>The stem and the bowl were quite plain, but on +the edge of the bowl was perched some kind of +lizard. I told myself it was an octopus when I first +saw it, but I have since had reason to believe that +it was some almost unique member of the lizard +tribe. The creature was represented as climbing +over the edge of the bowl down toward the stem, +and its legs, or feelers, or tentacula, or whatever +the things are called, were, if I may use a vulgarism, +sprawling about “all over the place.” For instance, +two or three of them were twined about the bowl, +two or three of them were twisted round the stem, +and one, a particularly horrible one, was uplifted in +the air, so that if you put the pipe in your mouth +the thing was pointing straight at your nose.</p> + +<p>Not the least agreeable feature about the creature +was that it was hideously lifelike. It appeared to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span> +have been carved in amber, but some coloring matter +must have been introduced, for inside the amber +the creature was of a peculiarly ghastly green. The +more I examined the pipe the more amazed I was +at Tress’s generosity. He and I are rival collectors. +I am not going to say, in so many words, that his +collection of pipes contains nothing but rubbish, because, +as a matter of fact, he has two or three rather +decent specimens. But to compare his collection to +mine would be absurd. Tress is conscious of this, +and he resents it to such an extent that he has been +known, at least on one occasion, to declare that one +single pipe of his—I believe he alluded to the Brummagem +relic preposterously attributed to Sir Walter +Raleigh—was worth the whole of my collection put +together. Although I have forgiven this, as I hope +I always shall forgive remarks made when envious +passions get the better of our nobler nature, even +of a Joseph Tress, it is not to be supposed that I +have forgotten it. He was, therefore, not at all the +sort of person from whom I expected to receive a +present. And such a present! I do not believe that +he himself had a finer pipe in his collection. And +to have given it to me! I had misjudged the man. +I wondered where he had got it from. I had seen +his pipes; I knew them off by heart—and some nice +trumpery he has among them, too! but I had never +seen <i>that</i> pipe before. The more I looked at it, the +more my amazement grew. The beast perched +upon the edge of the bowl was so lifelike. Its two +bead-like eyes seemed to gleam at me with positively<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span> +human intelligence. The pipe fascinated me to such +an extent that I actually resolved to—smoke it!</p> + +<p>I filled it with Perique. Ordinarily I use Birdseye, +but on those very rare occasions on which I use +a specimen I smoke Perique. I lit up with quite a +small sensation of excitement. As I did so I kept +my eyes perforce fixed upon the beast. The beast +pointed its upraised tentacle directly at me. As I +inhaled the pungent tobacco that tentacle impressed +me with a feeling of actual uncanniness. It was +broad daylight, and I was smoking in front of the +window, yet to such an extent was I affected that it +seemed to me that the tentacle was not only vibrating, +which, owing to the peculiarity of its position, +was quite within the range of probability, but actually +moving, elongating—stretching forward, that +is, farther toward me, and toward the tip of my +nose. So impressed was I by this idea that I took +the pipe out of my mouth and minutely examined +the beast. Really, the delusion was excusable. So +cunningly had the artist wrought that he succeeded +in producing a creature which, such was its uncanniness, +I could only hope had no original in nature.</p> + +<p>Replacing the pipe between my lips I took several +whiffs. Never had smoking had such an effect on +me before. Either the pipe, or the creature on it, +exercised some singular fascination. I seemed, +without an instant’s warning, to be passing into some +land of dreams. I saw the beast, which was perched +upon the bowl, writhe and twist. I saw it lift itself +bodily from the meerschaum.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p> + + +<p class="c large">II</p> + +<p>“Feeling better now?”</p> + +<p>I looked up. Joseph Tress was speaking.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter? Have I been ill?”</p> + +<p>“You appear to have been in some kind of +swoon.”</p> + +<p>Tress’s tone was peculiar, even a little dry.</p> + +<p>“Swoon! I never was guilty of such a thing in +my life.”</p> + +<p>“Nor was I, until I smoked that pipe.”</p> + +<p>I sat up. The act of sitting up made me conscious +of the fact that I had been lying down. Conscious, +too, that I was feeling more than a little dazed. It +seemed as though I was waking out of some strange, +lethargic sleep—a kind of feeling which I have read +of and heard about, but never before experienced.</p> + +<p>“Where am I?”</p> + +<p>“You’re on the couch in your own room. You +<i>were</i> on the floor; but I thought it would be better +to pick you up and place you on the couch—though +no one performed the same kind office to me when +I was on the floor.”</p> + +<p>Again Tress’s tone was distinctly dry.</p> + +<p>“How came <i>you</i> here?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that’s the question.” He rubbed his chin—a +habit of his which has annoyed me more than once +before. “Do you think you’re sufficiently recovered +to enable you to understand a little simple explanation?” +I stared at him, amazed. He went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> +on stroking his chin. “The truth is that when I sent +you the pipe I made a slight omission.”</p> + +<p>“An omission?”</p> + +<p>“I omitted to advise you not to smoke it.”</p> + +<p>“And why?”</p> + +<p>“Because—well, I’ve reason to believe the thing +is drugged.”</p> + +<p>“Drugged!”</p> + +<p>“Or poisoned.”</p> + +<p>“Poisoned!” I was wide awake enough then. I +jumped off the couch with a celerity which proved +it.</p> + +<p>“It is this way. I became its owner in rather a +singular manner.” He paused, as if for me to +make a remark; but I was silent. “It is not often +that I smoke a specimen, but, for some reason, I +did smoke this. I commenced to smoke it, that is. +How long I continued to smoke it is more than I +can say. It had on me the same peculiar effect +which it appears to have had on you. When I recovered +consciousness I was lying on the floor.”</p> + +<p>“On the floor?”</p> + +<p>“On the floor. In about as uncomfortable a position +as you can easily conceive. I was lying face +downward, with my legs bent under me. I was +never so surprised in my life as I was when I found +myself <i>where</i> I was. At first I supposed that I had +had a stroke. But by degrees it dawned upon me +that I didn’t <i>feel</i> as though I had had a stroke.” +Tress, by the way, has been an army surgeon. “I +was conscious of distinct nausea. Looking about, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span> +saw the pipe. With me it had fallen on to the floor. +I took it for granted, considering the delicacy of +the carving, that the fall had broken it. But when +I picked it up I found it quite uninjured. While I +was examining it a thought flashed to my brain. +Might it not be answerable for what had happened +to me? Suppose, for instance, it was drugged? I +had heard of such things. Besides, in my case were +present all the symptoms of drug poisoning, though +what drug had been used I couldn’t in the least conceive. +I resolved that I would give the pipe another +trial.”</p> + +<p>“On yourself? or on another party, meaning me?”</p> + +<p>“On myself, my dear Pugh—on myself! At that +point of my investigations I had not begun to think +of you. I lit up and had another smoke.”</p> + +<p>“With what result?”</p> + +<p>“Well, that depends on the standpoint from +which you regard the thing. From one point of +view the result was wholly satisfactory—I proved +that the thing was drugged, and more.”</p> + +<p>“Did you have another fall?”</p> + +<p>“I did. And something else besides.”</p> + +<p>“On that account, I presume, you resolved to pass +the treasure on to me?”</p> + +<p>“Partly on that account, and partly on another.”</p> + +<p>“On my word, I appreciate your generosity. You +might have labeled the thing as poison.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly. But then you must remember how +often you have told me that you <i>never</i> smoke your +specimens.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span></p> + +<p>“That was no reason why you shouldn’t have +given me a hint that the thing was more dangerous +than dynamite.”</p> + +<p>“That did occur to me afterwards. Therefore I +called to supply the slight omission.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Slight</i> omission, you call it! I wonder what you +would have called it if you had found me dead.”</p> + +<p>“If I had known that you <i>intended</i> smoking it I +should not have been at all surprised if I had.”</p> + +<p>“Really, Tress, I appreciate your kindness more +and more! And where is this example of your splendid +benevolence? Have you pocketed it, regretting +your lapse into the unaccustomed paths of generosity? +Or is it smashed to atoms?”</p> + +<p>“Neither the one nor the other. You will find +the pipe upon the table. I neither desire its restoration +nor is it in any way injured. It is merely an +expression of personal opinion when I say that I +don’t believe that it <i>could</i> be injured. Of course, +having discovered its deleterious properties, you will +not want to smoke it again. You will therefore be +able to enjoy the consciousness of being the possessor +of what I honestly believe to be the most remarkable +pipe in existence. Good day, Pugh.”</p> + +<p>He was gone before I could say a word. I immediately +concluded, from the precipitancy of his +flight, that the pipe <i>was</i> injured. But when I subjected +it to close examination I could discover no +signs of damage. While I was still eyeing it with +jealous scrutiny the door reopened, and Tress came +in again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span></p> + +<p>“By the way, Pugh, there is one thing I might +mention, especially as I know it won’t make any difference +to you.”</p> + +<p>“That depends on what it is. If you have changed +your mind, and want the pipe back again, I tell you +frankly that it won’t. In my opinion, a thing once +given is given for good.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so; I don’t want it back again. You may +make your mind easy on that point. I merely +wanted to tell you <i>why</i> I gave it you.”</p> + +<p>“You have told me that already.”</p> + +<p>“Only partly, my dear Pugh—only partly. You +don’t suppose I should have given you such a pipe +as that merely because it happened to be drugged? +Scarcely! I gave it you because I discovered from +indisputable evidence, and to my cost, that it was +haunted.”</p> + +<p>“Haunted?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, haunted. Good day.”</p> + +<p>He was gone again. I ran out of the room, and +shouted after him down the stairs. He was already +at the bottom of the flight.</p> + +<p>“Tress! Come back! What do you mean by +talking such nonsense?”</p> + +<p>“Of course it’s only nonsense. We know that +that sort of thing always is nonsense. But if you +should have reason to suppose that there is something +in it besides nonsense, you may think it worth +your while to make inquiries of me. But I won’t +have that pipe back again in my possession on any +terms—mind that!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></p> + +<p>The bang of the front door told me that he had +gone out into the street. I let him go. I laughed +to myself as I reëntered the room. Haunted! That +was not a bad idea of his. I saw the whole position +at a glance. The truth of the matter was that +he did regret his generosity, and he was ready to +go any lengths if he could only succeed in cajoling +me into restoring his gift. He was aware that I +have views upon certain matters which are not +wholly in accordance with those which are popularly +supposed to be the views of the day, and particularly +that on the question of what are commonly called +supernatural visitations I have a standpoint of my +own. Therefore, it was not a bad move on his part +to try to make me believe that about the pipe on +which he knew I had set my heart there was something +which could not be accounted for by ordinary +laws. Yet, as his own sense would have told him +it would do, if he had only allowed himself to reflect +for a moment, the move failed. Because I am not +yet so far gone as to suppose that a pipe, a thing +of meerschaum and of amber, in the sense in which +I understand the word, <i>could</i> be haunted—a pipe, +a mere pipe.</p> + +<p>“Hollo! I thought the creature’s legs were +twined right round the bowl!”</p> + +<p>I was holding the pipe in my hand, regarding it +with the affectionate eyes with which a connoisseur +does regard a curio, when I was induced to make +this exclamation. I was certainly under the impression +that, when I first took the pipe out of the box,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span> +two, if not three of the feelers had been twined about +the bowl—twined <i>tightly</i>, so that you could not see +daylight between them and it. Now they were almost +entirely detached, only the tips touching the +meerschaum, and those particular feelers were gathered +up as though the creature were in the act of taking +a spring. Of course I was under a misapprehension: +the feelers <i>couldn’t</i> have been twined; a +moment before I should have been ready to bet a +thousand to one that they were. Still, one does +make mistakes, and very egregious mistakes, at +times. At the same time, I confess that when I saw +that dreadful-looking animal poised on the extreme +edge of the bowl, for all the world as though it were +just going to spring at me, I was a little startled. +I remembered that when I was smoking the pipe +I did think I saw the uplifted tentacle moving, as +though it were reaching out to me. And I had a +clear recollection that just as I had been sinking +into that strange state of unconsciousness, I had been +under the impression that the creature was writhing +and twisting, as though it had suddenly become instinct +with life. Under the circumstances, these reflections +were not pleasant. I wished Tress had not +talked that nonsense about the thing being haunted. +It was surely sufficient to know that it was drugged +and poisonous, without anything else.</p> + +<p>I replaced it in the sandalwood box. I locked the +box in a cabinet. Quite apart from the question as +to whether that pipe was or was not haunted, I +know it haunted me. It was with me in a figurative—which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> +was worse than actual—sense all the day. +Still worse, it was with me all the night. It was +with me in my dreams. Such dreams! Possibly I +had not yet wholly recovered from the effects of +that insidious drug, but, whether or no, it was very +wrong of Tress to set my thoughts into such a +channel. He knows that I am of a highly imaginative +temperament, and that it is easier to get morbid +thoughts into my mind than to get them out +again. Before that night was through I wished +very heartily that I had never seen the pipe! I +woke from one nightmare to fall into another. One +dreadful dream was with me all the time—of a +hideous, green reptile which advanced toward me +out of some awful darkness, slowly, inch by inch, +until it clutched me round the neck, and, gluing its +lips to mine, sucked the life’s blood out of my veins +as it embraced me with a slimy kiss. Such dreams +are not restful. I woke anything but refreshed when +the morning came. And when I got up and dressed +I felt that, on the whole, it would perhaps have been +better if I never had gone to bed. My nerves were +unstrung, and I had that generally tremulous feeling +which is, I believe, an inseparable companion of the +more advanced stages of dipsomania. I ate no +breakfast. I am no breakfast eater as a rule, but +that morning I ate absolutely nothing.</p> + +<p>“If this sort of thing is to continue, I will let +Tress have his pipe again. He may have the laugh +of me, but anything is better than this.”</p> + +<p>It was with almost funereal forebodings that I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span> +went to the cabinet in which I had placed the sandalwood +box. But when I opened it my feelings of +gloom partially vanished. Of what phantasies had +I been guilty! It must have been an entire delusion +on my part to have supposed that those tentacula +had ever been twined about the bowl. The creature +was in exactly the same position in which I had left +it the day before—as, of course, I knew it would be—poised, +as if about to spring. I was telling myself +how foolish I had been to allow myself to dwell +for a moment on Tress’s words, when Martin +Brasher was shown in.</p> + +<p>Brasher is an old friend of mine. We have a common +ground—ghosts. Only we approach them +from different points of view. He takes the scientific—psychological—inquiry +side. He is always +anxious to hear of a ghost, so that he may have an +opportunity of “showing it up.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve something in your line here,” I observed, +as he came in.</p> + +<p>“In my line? How so? <i>I’m</i> not pipe mad.”</p> + +<p>“No; but you’re ghost mad. And this is a +haunted pipe.”</p> + +<p>“A haunted pipe! I think you’re rather more +mad about ghosts, my dear Pugh, than I am.”</p> + +<p>Then I told him all about it. He was deeply interested, +especially when I told him that the pipe was +drugged. But when I repeated Tress’s words about +its being haunted, and mentioned my own delusion +about the creature moving, he took a more serious +view of the case than I had expected he would do.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p> + +<p>“I propose that we act on Tress’s suggestion, and +go and make inquiries of him.”</p> + +<p>“But you don’t really think that there is anything +in it?”</p> + +<p>“On these subjects I never allow myself to think +at all. There are Tress’s words, and there is your +story. It is agreed on all hands that the pipe has +peculiar properties. It seems to me that there is a +sufficient case here to merit inquiry.”</p> + +<p>He persuaded me. I went with him. The pipe, +in the sandalwood box, went too. Tress received +us with a grin—a grin which was accentuated when +I placed the sandalwood box on the table.</p> + +<p>“You understand,” he said, “that a gift is a gift. +On no terms will I consent to receive that pipe back +in my possession.”</p> + +<p>I was rather nettled by his tone.</p> + +<p>“You need be under no alarm. I have no intention +of suggesting anything of the kind.”</p> + +<p>“Our business here,” began Brasher—I must own +that his manner is a little ponderous—“is of a scientific, +I may say also, and at the same time, of a judicial +nature. Our object is the Pursuit of Truth and +the Advancement of Inquiry.”</p> + +<p>“Have you been trying another smoke?” inquired +Tress, nodding his head toward me.</p> + +<p>Before I had time to answer, Brasher went droning +on:</p> + +<p>“Our friend here tells me that you say this pipe +is haunted.”</p> + +<p>“I say it is haunted because it <i>is</i> haunted.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></p> + +<p>I looked at Tress. I half suspected that he was +poking fun at us. But he appeared to be serious +enough.</p> + +<p>“In these matters,” remarked Brasher, as though +he were giving utterance to a new and important +truth, “there is a scientific and nonscientific method +of inquiry. The scientific method is to begin at the +beginning. May I ask how this pipe came into your +possession?”</p> + +<p>Tress paused before he answered.</p> + +<p>“You may ask.” He paused again. “Oh, you +certainly may ask. But it doesn’t follow that I shall +tell you.”</p> + +<p>“Surely your object, like ours, can be but the +Spreading About of the Truth?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see it at all. It is possible to imagine a +case in which the spreading about of the truth might +make me look a little awkward.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” Brasher pursed up his lips. “Your +words would almost lead one to suppose that there +was something about your method of acquiring the +pipe which you have good and weighty reasons for +concealing.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know why I should conceal the thing +from you. I don’t suppose either of you is any +better than I am. I don’t mind telling you how I +got the pipe. I stole it.”</p> + +<p>“Stole it!”</p> + +<p>Brasher seemed both amazed and shocked. But +I, who had previous experience of Tress’s methods +of adding to his collection, was not at all surprised.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span> +Some of the pipes which he calls his, if only the +whole truth about them were publicly known, would +send him to jail.</p> + +<p>“That’s nothing!” he continued. “All collectors +steal! The eighth commandment was not intended to +apply to them. Why, Pugh there has ‘conveyed’ +three-fourths of the pipes which he flatters himself +are his.”</p> + +<p>I was so dumbfounded by the charge that it took +my breath away. I sat in astounded silence. Tress +went raving on:</p> + +<p>“I was so shy of this particular pipe when I had +obtained it, that I put it away for quite three months. +When I took it out to have a look at it something +about the thing so tickled me that I resolved to smoke +it. Owing to peculiar circumstances attending the +manner in which the thing came into my possession, +and on which I need not dwell—you don’t like to +dwell on those sort of things, do you, Pugh?—I +knew really nothing about the pipe. As was the +case with Pugh, one peculiarity I learned from actual +experience. It was also from actual experience that +I learned that the thing was—well, I said haunted, +but you may use any other word you like.”</p> + +<p>“Tell us, as briefly as possible, what it was you +really did discover.”</p> + +<p>“Take the pipe out of the box!” Brasher took +the pipe out of the box and held it in his hand. +“You see that creature on it. Well, when I first had +it, it was underneath the pipe.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span></p> + +<p>“How do you mean that it was underneath the +pipe?”</p> + +<p>“It was bunched together underneath the stem, +just at the end of the mouthpiece, in the same way +in which a fly might be suspended from the ceiling. +When I began to smoke the pipe I saw the creature +move.”</p> + +<p>“But I thought that unconsciousness immediately +followed.”</p> + +<p>“It did follow, but not before I saw that the thing +was moving. It was because I thought that I had +been, in a way, a victim of delirium that I tried +the second smoke. Suspecting that the thing was +drugged I swallowed what I believed would prove +a powerful antidote. It enabled me to resist the +influence of the narcotic much longer than before, +and while I still retained my senses I saw the creature +crawl along under the stem and over the bowl. +It was that sight, I believe, as much as anything else, +which sent me silly. When I came to, I then and +there decided to present the pipe to Pugh. There is +one more thing I would remark. When the pipe +left me the creature’s legs were twined about the +bowl. Now they are withdrawn. Possibly you, +Pugh, are able to cap my story with a little one which +is all your own.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly did imagine that I saw the creature +move. But I supposed that while I was under the +influence of the drug imagination had played me a +trick.”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it! Depend upon it, the beast is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span> +bewitched. Even to my eye it looks as though it +were, and to a trained eye like yours, Pugh! You’ve +been looking for the devil a long time, and you’ve +got him at last.”</p> + +<p>“I—I wish you wouldn’t make those remarks, +Tress. They jar on me.”</p> + +<p>“I confess,” interpolated Brasher—I noticed that +he had put the pipe down on the table as though he +were tired of holding it—“that, to <i>my</i> thinking, such +remarks are not appropriate. At the same time +what you have told us is, I am bound to allow, a +little curious. But of course what I require is ocular +demonstration. I haven’t seen the movement myself.”</p> + +<p>“No, but you very soon will do so, if you care to +have a pull at the pipe on your own account. Do, +Brasher, to oblige me! There’s a dear!”</p> + +<p>“It appears, then, that the movement is only observable +when the pipe is smoked. We have at +least arrived at step No. 1.”</p> + +<p>“Here’s a match, Brasher! Light up, and we +shall have arrived at step No. 2.”</p> + +<p>Tress lit a match and held it out to Brasher. +Brasher retreated from its neighborhood.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Mr. Tress, I am no smoker, as you +are aware. And I have no desire to acquire the art +of smoking by means of a poisoned pipe.”</p> + +<p>Tress laughed. He blew out the match and threw +it into the grate.</p> + +<p>“Then I tell you what I’ll do—I’ll have up Bob.”</p> + +<p>“Bob—why Bob?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> + +<p>“Bob”—whose real name was Robert Haines, +though I should think he must have forgotten the +fact, so seldom was he addressed by it—was Tress’s +servant. He had been an old soldier, and had accompanied +his master when he left the service. He +was as depraved a character as Tress himself. I am +not sure even that he was not worse than his master. +I shall never forget how he once behaved toward +myself. He actually had the assurance to accuse me +of attempting to steal the Wardour Street relic +which Tress fondly deludes himself was once the +property of Sir Walter Raleigh. The truth is that +I had slipped it with my handkerchief into my pocket +in a fit of absence of mind. A man who could accuse +<i>me</i> of such a thing would be guilty of anything. I +was therefore quite at one with Brasher when he +asked what Bob could possibly be wanted for. Tress +explained.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get him to smoke the pipe,” he said.</p> + +<p>Brasher and I exchanged glances, but we refrained +from speech.</p> + +<p>“It won’t do him any harm,” said Tress.</p> + +<p>“What—not a poisoned pipe?” asked Brasher.</p> + +<p>“It’s not poisoned—it’s only drugged.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Only</i> drugged!”</p> + +<p>“Nothing hurts Bob. He is like an ostrich. He +has digestive organs which are peculiarly his own. +It will only serve him as it served me—and Pugh—it +will knock him over. It is all done in the Pursuit +of Truth and for the Advancement of Inquiry.”</p> + +<p>I could see that Brasher did not altogether like<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span> +the tone in which Tress repeated his words. As for +me, it was not to be supposed that I should put myself +out in a matter which in no way concerned me. +If Tress chose to poison the man, it was his affair, +not mine. He went to the door and shouted:</p> + +<p>“Bob! Come here, you scoundrel!”</p> + +<p>That is the way in which he speaks to him. No +really decent servant would stand it. I shouldn’t +care to address Nalder, my servant, in such a way. +He would give me notice on the spot. Bob came in. +He is a great hulking fellow who is always on the +grin. Tress had a decanter of brandy in his hand. +He filled a tumbler with the neat spirit.</p> + +<p>“Bob, what would you say to a glassful of brandy—the +real thing—my boy?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And what would you say to a pull at a pipe when +the brandy is drunk!”</p> + +<p>“A pipe?” The fellow is sharp enough when he +likes. I saw him look at the pipe upon the table, and +then at us, and then a gleam of intelligence came +into his eyes. “I’d do it for a dollar, sir.”</p> + +<p>“A dollar, you thief?”</p> + +<p>“I meant ten shillings, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Ten shillings, you brazen vagabond?”</p> + +<p>“I should have said a pound.”</p> + +<p>“A pound! Was ever the like of that! Do I +understand you to ask a pound for taking a pull at +your master’s pipe?”</p> + +<p>“I’m thinking that I’ll have to make it two.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span></p> + +<p>“The deuce you are! Here, Pugh, lend me a +pound.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid I’ve left my purse behind.”</p> + +<p>“Then lend me ten shillings—Ananias!”</p> + +<p>“I doubt if I have more than five.”</p> + +<p>“Then give me the five. And, Brasher, lend me +the other fifteen.”</p> + +<p>Brasher lent him the fifteen. I doubt if we shall +either of us ever see our money again. He handed +the pound to Bob.</p> + +<p>“Here’s the brandy—drink it up!” Bob drank it +without a word, draining the glass of every drop. +“And here’s the pipe.”</p> + +<p>“Is it poisoned, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Poisoned, you villain! What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t the first time I’ve seen your tricks, sir—is +it now? And you’re not the one to give a pound +for nothing at all. If it kills me you’ll send my +body to my mother—she’d like to know that I was +dead.”</p> + +<p>“Send your body to your grandmother! You +idiot, sit down and smoke!”</p> + +<p>Bob sat down. Tress had filled the pipe, and +handed it, with a lighted match, to Bob. The fellow +declined the match. He handled the pipe very gingerly, +turning it over and over, eying it with all his +eyes.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir—I’ll light up myself if it’s the +same to you. I carry matches of my own. It’s a +beautiful pipe, entirely. I never see the like of it +for ugliness. And what’s the slimy-looking varmint<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span> +that looks as though it would like to have my life? +Is it living, or is it dead?”</p> + +<p>“Come, we don’t want to sit here all day, my +man!”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, the look of this here pipe has quite +upset my stomach. I’d like another drop of liquor, +if it’s the same to you.”</p> + +<p>“Another drop! Why, you’ve had a tumblerful +already! Here’s another tumblerful to put on top +of that. You won’t want the pipe to kill you—you’ll +be killed before you get to it.”</p> + +<p>“And isn’t it better to die a natural death?”</p> + +<p>Bob emptied the second tumbler of brandy as +though it were water. I believe he would empty +a hogshead without turning a hair! Then he gave +another look at the pipe. Then, taking a match +from his waistcoat pocket, he drew a long breath, +as though he were resigning himself to fate. Striking +the match on the seat of his trousers, while, +shaded by his hand, the flame was gathering +strength, he looked at each of us in turn. When he +looked at Tress I distinctly saw him wink his eye. +What my feelings would have been if a servant of +mine had winked his eye at me I am unable to imagine! +The match was applied to the tobacco, a +puff of smoke came through his lips—the pipe was +alight!</p> + +<p>During this process of lighting the pipe we had +sat—I do not wish to use exaggerated language, but +we had sat and watched that alcoholic scamp’s proceedings +as though we were witnessing an action<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span> +which would leave its mark upon the age. When +we saw the pipe was lighted we gave a simultaneous +start. Brasher put his hands under his coat tails +and gave a kind of hop. I raised myself a good six +inches from my chair, and Tress rubbed his palms +together with a chuckle. Bob alone was calm.</p> + +<p>“Now,” cried Tress, “you’ll see the devil moving.”</p> + +<p>Bob took the pipe from between his lips.</p> + +<p>“See what?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Bob, you rascal, put that pipe back into your +mouth, and smoke it for your life!”</p> + +<p>Bob was eyeing the pipe askance.</p> + +<p>“I dare say, but what I want to know is whether +this here varmint’s dead or whether he ain’t. I don’t +want to have him flying at my nose—and he looks +vicious enough for anything.”</p> + +<p>“Give me back that pound, you thief, and get out +of my house, and bundle.”</p> + +<p>“I ain’t going to give you back no pound.”</p> + +<p>“Then smoke that pipe!”</p> + +<p>“I am smoking it, ain’t I?”</p> + +<p>With the utmost deliberation Bob returned the +pipe to his mouth. He emitted another whiff or two +of smoke.</p> + +<p>“Now—now!” cried Tress, all excitement, and +wagging his hand in the air.</p> + +<p>We gathered round. As we did so Bob again +withdrew the pipe.</p> + +<p>“What is the meaning of all this here? I ain’t +going to have you playing none of your larks on me.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span> +I know there’s something up, but I ain’t going to +throw my life away for twenty shillings—not quite +I ain’t.”</p> + +<p>Tress, whose temper is not at any time one of +the best, was seized with quite a spasm of rage.</p> + +<p>“As I live, my lad, if you try to cheat me by taking +that pipe from between your lips until I tell you, +you leave this room that instant, never again to be +a servant of mine.”</p> + +<p>I presume the fellow knew from long experience +when his master meant what he said, and when he +didn’t. Without an attempt at remonstrance he replaced +the pipe. He continued stolidly to puff away. +Tress caught me by the arm.</p> + +<p>“What did I tell you? There—there! That +tentacle is moving.”</p> + +<p>The uplifted tentacle <i>was</i> moving. It was doing +what I had seen it do, as I supposed, in my distorted +imagination—it was reaching forward. Undoubtedly +Bob saw what it was doing; but, whether in +obedience to his master’s commands, or whether because +the drug was already beginning to take effect, +he made no movement to withdraw the pipe. He +watched the slowly advancing tentacle, coming closer +and closer toward his nose, with an expression of +such intense horror on his countenance that it became +quite shocking. Farther and farther the creature +reached forward, until on a sudden, with a sort +of jerk, the movement assumed a downward direction, +and the tentacle was slowly lowered until the +tip rested on the stem of the pipe. For a moment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span> +the creature remained motionless. I was quieting +my nerves with the reflection that this thing was but +some trick of the carver’s art, and that what we had +seen we had seen in a sort of nightmare, when the +whole hideous reptile was seized with what seemed +to be a fit of convulsive shuddering. It seemed to +be in agony. It trembled so violently that I expected +to see it loosen its hold of the stem and fall to the +ground. I was sufficiently master of myself to steal +a glance at Bob. We had had an inkling of what +might happen. He was wholly unprepared. As he +saw that dreadful, human-looking creature, coming +to life, as it seemed, within an inch or two of his +nose, his eyes dilated to twice their usual size. I +hoped, for his sake, that unconsciousness would supervene, +through the action of the drug, before +through sheer fright his senses left him. Perhaps +mechanically he puffed steadily on.</p> + +<p>The creature’s shuddering became more violent. +It appeared to swell before our eyes. Then, just +as suddenly as it began, the shuddering ceased. +There was another instant of quiescence. Then the +creature began to crawl along the stem of the pipe! +It moved with marvelous caution, the merest fraction +of an inch at a time. But still it moved! Our +eyes were riveted on it with a fascination which was +absolutely nauseous. I am unpleasantly affected +even as I think of it now. My dreams of the night +before had been nothing to this.</p> + +<p>Slowly, slowly, it went, nearer and nearer to the +smoker’s nose. Its mode of progression was in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span> +highest degree unsightly. It glided, never, so far +as I could see, removing its tentacles from the stem +of the pipe. It slipped its hind-most feelers onward +until they came up to those which were in advance. +Then, in their turn, it advanced those which were in +front. It seemed, too, to move with the utmost +labor, shuddering as though it were in pain.</p> + +<p>We were all, for our parts, speechless. I was +momentarily hoping that the drug would take effect +on Bob. Either his constitution enabled him to offer +a strong resistance to narcotics, or else the large +quantity of neat spirit which he had drunk acted—as +Tress had malevolently intended that it should—as +an antidote. It seemed to me that he would <i>never</i> +succumb. On went the creature—on, and on, in its +infinitesimal progression. I was spellbound. I +would have given the world to scream, to have been +able to utter a sound. I could do nothing else but +watch.</p> + +<p>The creature had reached the end of the stem. It +had gained the amber mouthpiece. It was within +an inch of the smoker’s nose. Still on it went. It +seemed to move with greater freedom on the amber. +It increased its rate of progress. It was actually +touching the foremost feature on the smoker’s countenance. +I expected to see it grip the wretched +Bob, when it began to oscillate from side to side. +Its oscillations increased in violence. It fell to the +floor. That same instant the narcotic prevailed. +Bob slipped sideways from the chair, the pipe still +held tightly between his rigid jaws.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span></p> + +<p>We were silent. There lay Bob. Close beside him +lay the creature. A few more inches to the left, and +he would have fallen on and squashed it flat. It had +fallen on its back. Its feelers were extended upward. +They were writhing and twisting and turning in the +air.</p> + +<p>Tress was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“I think a little brandy won’t be amiss.” Emptying +the remainder of the brandy into the glass, he +swallowed it at a draught. “Now for a closer examination +of our friend.” Taking a pair of tongs +from the grate he nipped the creature between them. +He deposited it upon the table. “I rather fancy that +this is a case for dissection.”</p> + +<p>He took a penknife from his waistcoat pocket. +Opening the large blade, he thrust its point into the +object on the table. Little or no resistance seemed +to be offered to the passage of the blade, but as it +was inserted the tentacula simultaneously began to +writhe and twist. Tress withdrew the knife.</p> + +<p>“I thought so!” He held the blade out for our inspection. +The point was covered with some viscid-looking +matter. “That’s blood! The thing’s +alive!”</p> + +<p>“Alive!”</p> + +<p>“Alive! That’s the secret of the whole performance!”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“But me no buts, my Pugh! The mystery’s exploded! +One more ghost is lost to the world! The +person from whom I <i>obtained</i> that pipe was an Indian<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span> +juggler—up to many tricks of the trade. He, +or some one for him, got hold of this sweet thing in +reptiles—and a sweeter thing would, I imagine, +be hard to find—and covered it with some preparation +of, possible, gum arabic. He allowed this to +harden. Then he stuck the thing—still living, for +that sort of gentry are hard to kill—to the pipe. +The consequence was that when anyone lit up, the +warmth was communicated to the adhesive agent—again +some preparation of gum, no doubt—it moistened +it, and the creature, with infinite difficulty, was +able to move. But I am open to lay odds with any +gentleman of sporting taste that <i>this</i> time the creature’s +traveling days <i>are</i> done. It has given me +rather a larger taste of the horrors than is good for +my digestion.”</p> + +<p>With the aid of the tongs he removed the creature +from the table. He placed it on the hearth. Before +Brasher or I had a notion of what it was he intended +to do, he covered it with a heavy marble paper +weight. Then he stood upon the weight, and between +the marble and heart he ground the creature +flat.</p> + +<p>While the execution was still proceeding, Bob sat +up upon the floor.</p> + +<p>“Hollo!” he asked, “what’s happened?”</p> + +<p>“We’ve emptied the bottle, Bob,” said Tress. +“But there’s another where that came from. Perhaps +you could drink another tumblerful, my boy?”</p> + +<p>Bob drank it!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></p> + +<p class="c">FOOTNOTE</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Those gentry are hard to kill.” Here is fact, not fantasy. +Lizard yarns no less sensational than this Mystery Story can be +found between the covers of solemn, zoölogical textbooks.</p> + +<p>Reptiles, indeed, are far from finicky in the matters of air, +space, and especially warmth. Frogs and other such sluggish-blooded +creatures have lived after being frozen fast in ice. +Their blood is little warmer than air or water, enjoying no +extra casing of fur or feathers.</p> + +<p>Air and food seem held in light esteem by lizards. Their +blood need not be highly oxygenated; it nourishes just as well +when impure. In temperate climes lizards lie torpid and buried +all winter; some species of the tropic deserts sleep peacefully +all summer. Their anatomy includes no means for the continuous +introduction and expulsion of air; reptilian lungs are +little more than closed sacs, without cell structure.</p> + +<p>If any further zoölogical fact were needed to verify the +dénouement of “The Pipe,” it might be the general statement +that lizards are abnormal brutes anyhow. Consider the +chameleons of unsettled hue. And what is one to think of an +animal which, when captured by the tail, is able to make its +escape by willfully shuffling off that appendage?—<span class="smcap">Editor.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span></span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c6">THE UPPER BERTH</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">F. Marion Crawford</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Reprinted by permission of the publishers (in England, T. Fisher +Unwin, and in America, The Macmillan Company) from F. Marion +Crawford’s “Wandering Ghosts,” copyright, 1911.</p></div> + + +<p class="c large">I</p> + +<p><span class="smcap large">Somebody</span> asked for the cigars. We had talked so +long, and the conversation was beginning to languish, +the tobacco smoke had got into the heavy curtains, +the wine had got into those brains which were liable +to become heavy, and it was already perfectly evident, +unless somebody did something to rouse our +oppressed spirits, the meeting would soon come to its +natural conclusion, and we, the guests, would speedily +go home to bed, and most certainly to sleep. No one +had said anything very remarkable, it may be no one +had anything to say. Jones had given us every particular +of his last hunting adventure in Yorkshire. +Mr. Tompkins, of Boston, had explained at elaborate +length those working principles by the due and +careful maintenance of which the Atchison, Topeka, +and Sante Fe Railroad not only extended its territory, +increased its departmental influence, and transported<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span> +live stock without starving them to death before +the day of actual delivery, but also, had for +years succeeded in deceiving those passengers who +bought its tickets into the fallacious belief that the +corporation aforesaid was really able to transport +human life without destroying it. Signor Tombola +had endeavored to persuade us, by arguments which +we took no trouble to oppose, that the unity of his +country in no way resembled the average modern +torpedo, carefully planned, constructed with all the +skill of the greatest European arsenals, but, when +constructed, destined to be directed by feeble hands +into a region where it must undoubtedly explode, +unseen, unfeared, and unheard, into the illimitable +wastes of political chaos.</p> + +<p>It is unnecessary to go into further details. The +conversation had assumed proportions which would +have bored Prometheus on his rock, which would +have driven Tantalus to distraction, and which would +have impelled Ixion to seek relaxation in the simple +but instructive dialogues of Herr Ollendorf, rather +than submit to the greater evil of listening to our +talk. We had sat at a table for hours; we were +bored, we were tired, and nobody showed signs of +moving.</p> + +<p>Somebody called for cigars. We all instinctively +looked toward the speaker. Brisbane was a man of +five-and-thirty-years of age, and remarkable for +those gifts which chiefly attract the attention of men. +He was a strong man. The external proportions +of his figure presented nothing extraordinary to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span> +common eye, though his size was above the average. +He was a little over six feet in height, and moderately +broad in the shoulder; he did not appear to be +stout, but, on the other hand he was certainly not +thin; his small head was supported by a strong and +sinewy neck; his broad, muscular hands seemed to +possess a peculiar skill in breaking walnuts without +the assistance of the ordinary cracker, and, seeing +him in profile, one could not help remarking the extraordinary +breadth of his sleeves and the unusual +thickness of his chest. He was one of those men who +are commonly spoken of among men as deceptive; +that is to say, that though he looked exceedingly +strong, he was in reality very much stronger than he +looked. Of his features I need say little. His head +is small, his hair is thin, his eyes are blue, his nose +is large, he has a small mustache and a square jaw. +Everybody knows Brisbane, and when he asked for +a cigar everybody looked at him.</p> + +<p>“It is a very singular thing,” said Brisbane.</p> + +<p>Everybody stopped talking. Brisbane’s voice was +not loud, but possessed a peculiar quality of penetrating +general conversation and cutting it like a +knife. Everybody listened. Brisbane perceiving that +he had attracted their general attention, lighted his +cigar with equal equanimity.</p> + +<p>“It is very singular,” he continued, “that thing +about ghosts. People are always asking whether +anybody has seen a ghost. I have.”</p> + +<p>“Bosh! What, you? You don’t mean to say so, +Brisbane? Well, for a man of his intelligence!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span></p> + +<p>A chorus of exclamations greeted Brisbane’s remarkable +statement. Everybody called for cigars, +and Stubbs, the butler, suddenly appeared from the +depths of nowhere with a fresh bottle of dry champagne. +The situation was saved; Brisbane was going +to tell a story.</p> + +<p>“I am an old sailor,” said Brisbane, “and as I +have to cross the Atlantic pretty often, I have my +favorites. Most men have their favorites. I have +seen a man wait in a Broadway bar for three-quarters +of an hour for a particular car which he +liked. I believe the barkeeper made at least one-third +of his living by that man’s preference. I have +a habit of waiting for certain ships when I am +obliged to cross that duckpond. It may be a prejudice, +but I was never cheated out of a good passage +but once in my life. I remember it very well; it was +a warm morning in June, and the custom house officials, +who were hanging about waiting for a steamer +already on her way up from quarantine, presented +a peculiarly hazy and thoughtful appearance. I had +not much luggage—I never have. I mingled with +the crowd of passengers, porters, and officious individuals +in blue coats and brass buttons, who seemed +to spring up like mushrooms from the deck of a +moored steamer to obtrude their unnecessary services +upon the independent passengers. I have often noticed +with a certain interest the spontaneous evolution +of these fellows. They are not there when you +arrive; five minutes after the pilot has called ‘Go +ahead!’ they, or at least their blue coats and brass<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span> +buttons, have disappeared from deck and gangway +as completely as though they had been consigned +to that locker which tradition unanimously ascribes +to Davy Jones. But, at the moment of starting, they +are there, clean-shaved, blue-coated, and ravenous +for fees. I hastened on board. The ‘Kamtschatka’ +was one of my favorite ships. I say was, because +she emphatically no longer is. I cannot conceive of +any inducement which could entice me to make another +voyage in her. Yes, I know what you are +going to say. She is uncommonly clean in the run +aft, she has enough bluffing off in the bows to keep +her dry, and the lower berths are the most of them +double. She has a lot of advantages, but I won’t +cross in her again. Excuse the digression. I got on +board. I hailed the steward, whose red nose and +redder whiskers are equally familiar to me.</p> + +<p>“‘One hundred and five, lower berth,’ said I, in +the business-like tone peculiar to men who think no +more of crossing the Atlantic than taking a whiskey +cocktail at downtown Delmonico’s.</p> + +<p>“The steward took my portmanteau, great coat, +and rug. I shall never forget the expression on his +face. Not that he turned pale. It is maintained by +the most eminent divines that even miracles cannot +change the course of nature. I have no hesitation in +saying that he did not turn pale; but, from his expression, +I judged that he was either about to shed +tears, to sneeze, or to drop my portmanteau. As +the latter contained two bottles of particularly fine +old sherry, presented to me for my voyage by my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> +old friend Snigginson van Pickyns, I felt extremely +nervous. But the steward did none of these things.</p> + +<p>“‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ said he in a low voice, +and led the way.</p> + +<p>“I supposed my Hermes, as he led me to the +lower regions, had had a little grog, but I said nothing, +and followed him. One hundred and five was +on the port side, well aft. There was nothing remarkable +about the stateroom. The lower berth, +like most of those upon the ‘Kamtschatka,’ was +double. There was plenty of room; there was the +usual washing apparatus, calculated to convey an +idea of luxury to the mind of a North American +Indian; there were the usual inefficient racks of +brown wood, in which it is more easy to hang a +large-sized umbrella than the common toothbrush +of commerce. Upon the uninviting mattresses were +carefully folded together those blankets which a +great modern humorist has aptly compared to cold +buckwheat cakes. The question of towels was left +entirely to the imagination. The glass decanters +were filled with a transparent liquid faintly tinged +with brown, but from which an odor less faint, but +not more pleasing, ascended to the nostrils, like a +far-off seasick reminiscence of oily machinery. Sad-colored +curtains half closed the upper berth. The +hazy June daylight shed a faint illumination upon +the desolate little scene. Ugh! How I hate that +stateroom!</p> + +<p>“The steward deposited my traps and looked at +me as though he wanted to get away—probably in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> +search of more passengers and more fees. It is always +a good plan to start in favor with those functionaries, +and I accordingly gave him certain coins +there and then.</p> + +<p>“‘I’ll try and make yer comfortable all I can,’ he +remarked, as he put the coins in his pocket. Nevertheless, +there was a doubtful intonation in his voice +which surprised me. Possibly his scale of fees had +gone up, and he was not satisfied; but on the whole +I was inclined to think that, as he himself would +have expressed it, he was ‘the better for a glass.’ I +was wrong, however, and did the man injustice.</p> + + +<p class="c large">II</p> + +<p>“Nothing especially noteworthy of mention occurred +during the day. We left the pier punctually, +and it was very pleasant to be fairly under way, for +the weather was warm and sultry, and the motion +of the steamer produced a refreshing breeze.</p> + +<p>“Everybody knows what the first day at sea is +like. People pace the decks and stare at each other, +and occasionally meet acquaintances whom they did +not know to be on board. There is the usual uncertainty +as to whether the food will be good, bad, +or indifferent, until the first two meals have put the +matter beyond a doubt, there is the usual uncertainty +about the weather, until the ship is fairly off Fire +Island. The tables are crowded at first, and then +suddenly thinned. Pale-faced people spring from +their seats and precipitate themselves toward the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span> +door, and each old sailor breathes more freely as +his seasick neighbor rushes from his side, leaving +him plenty of elbow room and an unlimited command +over the mustard.</p> + +<p>“One passage across the Atlantic is very much like +another, and we who cross very often do not make +the voyage for the sake of novelty. Whales and +icebergs are indeed always objects of interest, but, +after all, one whale is very much like another whale, +and one rarely sees an iceberg at close quarters. To +the majority of us, the most delightful moment of +the day on board an ocean steamer is when we have +taken our last turn on deck, have smoked our last +cigar, and having succeeded in tiring ourselves, feel +at liberty to turn in with a clear conscience. On +that first night of the voyage I felt particularly lazy, +and went to bed in one hundred and five rather +earlier than I usually do. As I turned in, I was +amazed to see that I was to have a companion. A +portmanteau, very like my own, lay in the opposite +corner, and in the upper berth had been deposited +a neatly folded rug with a stick and umbrella. I +had hoped to be alone, and I was disappointed; but +I wondered who my roommate was to be, and I +determined to have a look at him.</p> + +<p>“Before I had been long in bed he entered. He +was, as far as I could see, a very tall man, very thin, +very pale, with sandy hair and whiskers, and colorless +gray eyes. He had about him, I thought, an +air of rather dubious fashion; the sort of man you +might see in Wall Street, without being able precisely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span> +to say what he was doing there—the sort of +man who frequents the Café Anglais, who always +seems to be alone, and who drinks champagne; you +might meet him on a race-course, but he would never +appear to be doing anything there either. A little +overdressed—a little odd. There are three or four +of his kind on every ocean steamer. I made up my +mind that I did not care to make his acquaintance, +and I went to sleep saying to myself that I would +study his habits in order to avoid him. If he rose +early, I would rise late; if he went to bed late, I +would go to bed early. I did not care to know him. +If you once know people of that kind they are always +turning up. Poor fellow! I need not have +taken the trouble to come to so many decisions about +him, for I never saw him again after that first night +in one hundred and five.</p> + +<p>“I was sleeping soundly when I was suddenly +waked by a loud noise. To judge from the sound, +my roommate must have sprung with a single leap +from the upper berth to the floor. I heard him +fumbling with the latch and bolt of the door, which +opened almost immediately, and then I heard his +footsteps as he ran at full speed down the passage, +leaving the door open behind him. The ship was +rolling a little, and I expected to hear him stumble +or fall, but he ran as though he were running for +his life. The door swung on its hinges with the +motion of the vessel, and the sound annoyed me. I +got up and shut it, and groped my way back to my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span> +berth in the darkness. I went to sleep again; but +I have no idea how long I slept.</p> + +<p>“When I awoke it was still quite dark, but I +felt a disagreeable sensation of cold, and it seemed +to me that the air was damp. You know the peculiar +smell of a cabin which has been wet with sea +water. I covered myself up as well as I could and +dozed off again, framing compliments to be made +the next day, and selecting the most powerful epithets +in language. I could hear my roommate turn +over in the upper berth. He had probably returned +while I was asleep. Once I thought I heard him +groan, and I argued that he was seasick. That is +particularly unpleasant when one is below. Nevertheless +I dozed off and slept till early daylight.</p> + +<p>“The ship was rolling heavily, much more than +on the previous evening, and the gray light which +came in through the porthole changed in tint with +every movement according as the angle of the vessel’s +side turned the glasses seaward or skyward. It +was very cold—unaccountably so for the month of +June. I turned my head and looked at the porthole, +and saw to my surprise that it was wide open and +hooked back. I believe I swore audibly. Then I +got up and shut it. As I turned back I glanced at +the upper berth. The curtains were drawn close together; +my companion had probably felt as cold as +I. It struck me that I had slept enough. The stateroom +was uncomfortable, though, strange to say, +I could not smell the dampness which had annoyed +me in the night. My roommate was still asleep—excellent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span> +opportunity for avoiding him, so I dressed +at once and went on deck. The day was warm and +cloudy, with an oily smell on the water. It was seven +o’clock as I came out—much later than I had imagined. +I came across the doctor, who was taking +his first sniff of the morning air. He was a young +man from the West of Ireland—a tremendous fellow, +with black hair and blue eyes, already inclined +to be stout; he had a happy-go-lucky, healthy look +about him which was rather attractive.</p> + +<p>“‘Fine mornin’,’ I remarked by way of introduction.</p> + +<p>“‘Well,’ said he, eyeing me with an air of ready +interest, ‘it’s a fine morning and it’s not a fine morning. +I don’t think it’s much of a morning.’</p> + +<p>“‘Well, no—it is not so very fine,’ said I.</p> + +<p>“‘It’s just what I call fuggly weather,’ replied the +doctor.</p> + +<p>“‘It was very cold last night, I thought,’ I remarked. +‘However, when I looked about, I found +that the porthole was wide open. I had not noticed +it when I went to bed. And the stateroom was +damp, too.’</p> + +<p>“‘Damp!’ said he. ‘Whereabouts are you?’</p> + +<p>“‘One hundred and five—’</p> + +<p>“To my surprise the doctor started visibly, and +stared at me.</p> + +<p>“‘What is the matter?’ I asked.</p> + +<p>“‘Oh—nothing,’ he answered; ‘only everybody +has complained of that stateroom for the last three +trips.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></p> + +<p>“‘I shall complain, too,’ I said. ‘It has certainly +not been properly aired. It is a shame!’</p> + +<p>“‘I don’t believe it can be helped,’ answered the +doctor. ‘I believe there is something—well, it is not +my business to frighten passengers.’</p> + +<p>“‘You need not be afraid of frightening me,’ I +replied. ‘I can stand any amount of damp. If I +should get a bad cold I will come to you.’</p> + +<p>“I offered the doctor a cigar, which he took and +examined very critically.</p> + +<p>“‘It is not so much the damp,’ he remarked. +‘However, I dare say you will get on very well. +Have you a roommate?’</p> + +<p>“‘Yes; a deuce of a fellow, who bolts out in the +middle of the night and leaves the door open.’</p> + +<p>“Again the doctor glanced curiously at me. Then +he lighted the cigar and looked grave.</p> + +<p>“‘Did he come back?’ he asked presently.</p> + +<p>“‘Yes. I was asleep, but I waked up and heard +him moving. Then I felt cold and went to sleep +again. This morning I found the porthole open.’</p> + +<p>“‘Look here,’ said the doctor, quietly, ‘I don’t +care much for this ship. I don’t care a rap for her +reputation. I tell you what I will do. I have a +good-sized place up here. I will share it with you, +though I don’t know you from Adam.’</p> + +<p>“I was very much surprised at the proposition. I +could not imagine why he should take such a sudden +interest in my welfare. However, his manner +as he spoke of the ship was peculiar.</p> + +<p>“‘You are very good, Doctor,’ I said. ‘But really,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> +I believe even now the cabin could be aired, or +cleaned out, or something. Why do you not care +for the ship?’</p> + +<p>“‘We are not superstitious in our profession, sir,’ +replied the doctor. ‘But the sea makes people so. +I don’t want to prejudice you, and I don’t want to +frighten you, but if you will take my advice you will +move in here. I would as soon see you overboard,’ +he added, ‘as know that you or any other man was +to sleep in one hundred and five.’</p> + +<p>“‘Good gracious! Why?’ I asked.</p> + +<p>“‘Just because on the last three trips the people +who have slept there actually have gone overboard,’ +he answered gravely.</p> + +<p>“The intelligence was startling and exceedingly +unpleasant, I confess. I looked hard at the doctor +to see whether he was making game of me, but he +looked perfectly serious. I thanked him warmly for +his offer, but told him I intended to be the exception +to the rule by which everyone who slept in that particular +stateroom went overboard. He did not say +much, but looked as grave as ever, and hinted that +before we got across, I should probably reconsider +his proposal. In the course of time we went to +breakfast, at which only an inconsiderable number +of passengers assembled. I noticed that one or two +of the officers who breakfasted with us looked +grave. After breakfast I went into my stateroom in +order to get a book. The curtains of the upper +berth were still closely drawn. Not a word was to +be heard. My roommate was probably still asleep.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span></p> + +<p>“As I came out I met the steward whose business +it was to look after me. He whispered that the +captain wanted to see me, and then scuttled away +down the passage as if very anxious to avoid any +questions. I went toward the captain’s cabin, and +found him waiting for me.</p> + +<p>“‘Sir,’ said he, ‘I want to ask a favor of you.’</p> + +<p>“I answered that I would do anything to oblige +him.</p> + +<p>“‘Your roommate has disappeared,’ he said. +‘He is known to have turned in early last night. Did +you notice anything extraordinary in his manner?’</p> + +<p>“The question coming, as it did, in exact confirmation +of the fears the doctor had expressed half an +hour earlier, staggered me.</p> + +<p>“‘You don’t mean to say that he has gone overboard?’ +I asked.</p> + +<p>“‘I fear he has,’ answered the captain.</p> + +<p>“‘This is the most extraordinary thing—’ I began.</p> + +<p>“‘Why?’ he asked.</p> + +<p>“‘He is the fourth, then?’ I explained. In answer +to another question from the captain, I explained, +without mentioning the doctor, that I had +heard the story concerning one hundred and five. +He seemed very much annoyed at hearing that I +knew of it. I told him what had occurred in the +night.</p> + +<p>“‘What you say,’ he replied, ‘coincides almost exactly +with what was told me by the roommates of +two of the other three. They bolt out of bed and +run down the passage. Two of them were seen to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> +go overboard by the watch, we stopped, and lowered +boats, but they were not found. Nobody, however, +saw or heard the man who was lost last night—if +he is really lost. The steward, who is a superstitious +fellow, perhaps, and expected something to go +wrong, went to look for him this morning, and found +his berth empty, but his clothes lying about, just as +he had left them. The steward was the only man +on board who knew him by sight, and he has been +searching everywhere for him. He has disappeared! +Now, sir, I want to beg you not to mention +the circumstance to any of the passengers; I +don’t want the ship to get a bad name, and nothing +hangs about an ocean-goer like stories of suicides. +You shall have your choice of any one of the officers’ +cabins you like, including my own, for the rest of +the passage. Is that a fair bargain?’</p> + +<p>“‘Very,’ I said; ‘and I am much obliged to you. +But since I am alone, and have the stateroom to +myself, I would rather not move. If the steward +will take out that unfortunate man’s things, I would +as lief stay where I am. I will not say anything +about the matter, and I think I can promise you that +I will not follow my roommate.’</p> + +<p>“The captain tried to dissuade me from my intention, +but I preferred having a stateroom alone to +being the chum of any officer on board. I do not +know whether I acted foolishly, but if I had taken +his advice I should have had nothing more to tell. +There would have remained the disagreeable coincidence +of several suicides occurring among men<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> +who had slept in the same cabin, but that would +have been all.</p> + +<p>“That was not the end of the matter, however, +by any means. I obstinately made up my mind that +I would not be disturbed by such tales, and I even +went so far as to argue the question with the captain. +There was something wrong about the stateroom, +I said. It was rather damp. The porthole had +been left open last night. My roommate might have +been ill when he came on board, and he might have +become delirious after he went to bed. He might +even now be hiding somewhere on board, and might +be found later. The place ought to be aired and +the fastening of the port looked to. If the captain +would give me leave, I would see that what I thought +necessary was done immediately.</p> + +<p>“‘Of course you have a right to stay where you +are if you please,’ he replied, rather petulantly; ‘but +I wish you would turn out and let me lock the place +up, and be done with it.’</p> + +<p>“I did not see it in the same light, and left the +captain, after promising to be silent concerning the +disappearance of my companion. The latter had +had no acquaintances on board, and was not missed +in the course of the day. Toward evening I met the +doctor again, and he asked me whether I had +changed my mind. I told him I had not.</p> + +<p>“‘Then you will before long,’ he said, very +gravely.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span></p> + + +<p class="c large">III</p> + +<p>“We played whist in the evening, and I went to +bed late. I will confess now that I felt a disagreeable +sensation when I entered my stateroom. I +could not help thinking of the tall man I had seen +on the previous night, who was now dead, drowned, +tossing about in the long swell, two or three hundred +miles astern. His face rose very distinctly before +me as I undressed, and I even went so far as to +draw back the curtains of the upper berth, as though +to persuade myself that he was actually gone. I also +bolted the door of the stateroom. Suddenly I became +aware that the porthole was open and fastened +back. This was more than I could stand. I hastily +threw on my dressing-gown, and went in search of +Robert, the steward of my passage. I was very +angry, I remember, and when I found him I dragged +him roughly to the door of one hundred and five, +and pushed him toward the open porthole.</p> + +<p>“‘What the deuce do you mean, you scoundrel, +by leaving that port open every night? Don’t you +know it is against the regulations? Don’t you know +that if the ship heeled and the water began to come +in, ten men could not shut it? I will report you to +the captain, you blackguard, for endangering the +ship!’</p> + +<p>“I was exceedingly wroth. The man trembled +and turned pale, and then began to shut the round +glass plate with the heavy brass fittings.</p> + +<p>“‘Why don’t you answer me?’ I said roughly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></p> + +<p>“‘If you please, sir,’ faltered Robert, ‘there’s nobody +on board as can keep this ‘ere port shut at +night. You can try it yourself, sir. I ain’t a-going +to stop hany longer on board o’ this vessel, sir; I +ain’t, indeed. But if I was you, sir, I’d just clear +out and go and sleep with the surgeon, or something, +I would. Look ’ere, sir, is that fastened what +you may call securely, or not, sir? Try it, sir, see +if it will move a hinch.’</p> + +<p>“I tried the port, and found it perfectly tight.</p> + +<p>“‘Well, sir,’ continued Robert, triumphantly; ‘I +wager my reputation as an A 1 steward, that in arf +an hour it will be open again; fastened back, too, +sir, that’s the horful thing—fastened back!’</p> + +<p>“I examined the great screw and the looped nut +that ran on it.</p> + +<p>“‘If I find it open in the night, Robert, I will give +you a sovereign. It is not possible. You may go.’</p> + +<p>“Soverin, did you say, sir? Very good, sir. +Thank ye, sir. Good-night, sir. Pleasant reepose, +sir, and all manner of hinchantin’ dreams, sir.’</p> + +<p>“Robert scuttled away, delighted at being released. +Of course, I thought he was trying to account +for his negligence by a silly story, intended to +frighten me, and I disbelieved him. The consequence +was that he got his sovereign, and I spent +a very peculiarly unpleasant night.</p> + +<p>“I went to bed, and five minutes after I had rolled +myself up in my blankets the inexorable Robert extinguished +the light that burned steadily behind the +ground-glass pane near the door. I lay quite still<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span> +in the dark trying to go to sleep, but I soon found +that impossible. It had been some satisfaction to +be angry with the steward, and the diversion had +vanished that unpleasant sensation I had at first experienced +when I thought of the drowned man who +had been my chum; but I was no longer sleepy, and +I lay awake for some time, occasionally glancing at +the porthole, which I could just see from where I +lay, and which, in the darkness, looked like a faintly +luminous soup-plate suspended in blackness. I believe +I must have lain there for an hour, and, as I +remember, I was just dozing into sleep, when I was +roused by a draught of cold air, and by distinctly +feeling the spray of the sea blown upon my face. I +started to my feet, and not having allowed in the +dark for the motion of the ship, I was instantly +thrown violently across the stateroom upon the couch +which was placed beneath the porthole. I recovered +myself immediately, however, and climbed upon +my knees. The porthole was again wide open and +fastened back!</p> + +<p>“Now these things are facts. I was wide awake +when I got up, and I should certainly have been +waked by the fall had I been dozing. Moreover, I +bruised my elbows and knees badly, and the bruises +were there on the following morning to testify to +the fact, if I myself had doubted it. The porthole +was wide open and fastened back—a thing so unaccountable, +that I remember very well feeling astonishment +rather than fear when I discovered it. +I at once closed the plate again, and screwed down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span> +the loop nut with all my strength. It was very dark +in the stateroom. I reflected that the port had certainly +been opened within an hour after Robert had +at first shut it in my presence, and I determined to +watch it and see whether it would open again. +Those brass fittings are very heavy and by no means +easy to move; I could not believe that the clamp had +been turned by the shaking of the screw. I stood +peering out through the thick glass at the alternate +white and gray streaks of the sea that foamed beneath +the ship’s side. I must have remained there +a quarter of an hour.</p> + +<p>“Suddenly, as I stood, I distinctly heard something +moving behind me in one of the berths, and +a moment afterward, just as I turned instinctively +to look—though I could, of course, see nothing in +the darkness—I heard a very faint groan. I sprang +across the stateroom, and tore the curtains of the +upper berth aside, thrusting in my hands to discover +if there were any one there. There was some one.</p> + +<p>“I remember that the sensation as I put my hands +forward was as though I were plunging them into +the air of a damp cellar, and from behind the curtain +came a gust of wind that smelled horribly of +stagnant seawater. I laid hold of something that +had the shape of a man’s arm, but was smooth, and +wet, and icy cold. But suddenly, as I pulled, the +creature sprang violently forward against me, a +clammy, oozy mass, as it seemed to me, heavy and +wet, yet endowed with a sort of supernatural +strength. I reeled across the stateroom, and in an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> +instant the door opened and the thing rushed out. +I had not had time to be frightened, and quickly +recovering myself, I sprang through the door and +gave chase at the top of my speed, but I was too +late. Ten yards before me I could see—I am sure +I saw it—a dark shadow moving in the dimly lighted +passage, quickly as the shadow of a fast horse +thrown before a dog-cart by the lamp on a dark +night. But in a moment it had disappeared, and I +found myself holding on to the polished rail that +ran along the bulkhead where the passage turned +toward the companion. My hair stood on end, and +the cold perspiration rolled down my face. I am +not ashamed of it in the least: I was very badly +frightened.</p> + +<p>“Still I doubted my senses, and pulled myself together. +It was absurd, I thought. The Welsh rarebit +I had eaten had disagreed with me. I had been +in a nightmare. I made my way back to my stateroom, +and entered it with an effort. The whole +place smelled of stagnant seawater, as it had when +I had waked on the previous evening. It required +my utmost strength to go in and grope among my +things for a box of wax lights. As I lighted a railway +reading-lantern which I always carry in case I +want to read after the lamps are out, I perceived +that the porthole was again open, and a sort of +creeping horror began to take possession of me +which I never felt before, nor wish to feel again. +But I got a light and proceeded to examine the upper +berth, expecting to find it drenched with seawater.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span></p> + +<p>But I was disappointed. The bed had been slept +in, and the smell of the sea was strong, but the bedding +was as dry as a bone. I fancied that Robert +had not had the courage to make the bed after the +accident of the previous night—it had all been a +hideous dream. I drew the curtains back as far as +I could, and examined the place very carefully. It +was perfectly dry. But the porthole was open again. +With a sort of dull bewilderment of horror, I closed +it and screwed it down, and thrusting my heavy stick +through the brass loop, wrenched it with all my +might, till the thick metal began to bend with the +pressure. Then I hooked my reading-lantern into +the red velvet at the head of the couch, and sat down +to recover my senses if I could. I sat there all night, +unable to think of rest—hardly able to think at all. +But the porthole remained closed, and I did not believe +it would now open again without the application +of a considerable force.</p> + +<p>“The morning dawned at last, and I dressed myself +slowly, thinking over all that had happened in +the night. It was a beautiful day and I went on +deck, glad to get out in the early pure sunshine, and +to smell the breeze from the blue water, so different +from the noisome, stagnant odor from my stateroom. +Instinctively I turned aft, toward the surgeon’s +cabin. There he stood with a pipe in his +mouth, taking his morning airing precisely as on the +preceding day.</p> + +<p>“‘Good-morning,’ said he quietly, but looking at +me with evident curiosity.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span></p> + +<p>“‘Doctor, you were quite right,’ said I. ‘There +is something wrong about that place.’</p> + +<p>“‘I thought you would change your mind,’ he +answered, rather triumphantly. ‘You have had a +bad night, eh? Shall I make you a pick-me-up? I +have a capital recipe.’</p> + +<p>“‘No, thanks,’ I cried. ‘But I would like to tell +you what happened.’</p> + +<p>“I then tried to explain as clearly as possible precisely +what had occurred, not omitting to state that +I had been scared as I had never been scared in my +whole life before. I dwelt particularly on the phenomenon +of the porthole, which was a fact to which +I could testify, even if the rest had been an illusion. +I had closed it twice in the night, and the second +time I had actually bent the brass in wrenching it +with my stick. I believe I insisted a good deal on +this point.</p> + +<p>“‘You seem to think I am likely to doubt the +story,’ said the doctor, smiling at the detailed account +of the state of the porthole. ‘I do not doubt +it in the least. I renew my invitation to you. Bring +your traps here, and take half my cabin.’</p> + +<p>“‘Come and take mine for half of one night,’ I +said. ‘Help me to get at the bottom of this thing.’</p> + +<p>“‘You will get at the bottom of something else +if you try,’ answered the doctor.</p> + +<p>“‘What?’ I asked.</p> + +<p>“‘The bottom of the sea. I am going to leave +the ship. It is not canny.’</p> + +<p>“‘Then you will not help me to find out—’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span></p> + +<p>“‘Not I,’ said the doctor quickly. ‘It is my business +to keep my wits about me—not to go fiddling +about with ghosts and things.’</p> + +<p>“‘Do you really believe it is a ghost?’ I inquired, +rather contemptuously. But as I spoke, I remembered +very well the horrible sensation of the supernatural +which had got possession of me during the +night. The doctor turned sharply on me:</p> + +<p>“‘Have you any reasonable explanation of these +things to offer?’ he asked. ‘No, you have not. Well, +you say you will find an explanation. I say that you +won’t, sir, simply because there is not any.’</p> + +<p>“‘But, my dear sir,’ I retorted, ‘do you, a man of +science, mean to tell me that such things can not be +explained?’</p> + +<p>“‘I do,’ he answered, stoutly. ‘And if they could, +I would not be concerned in the explanation.’</p> + +<p>“I did not care to spend another night alone in +the stateroom, and yet I was obstinately determined +to get at the root of the disturbances. I do not believe +there are many men who would have slept +there alone, after passing two such nights. But I +made up my mind to try it, if I could not get any +one to share a watch with me. The doctor was evidently +not inclined for such an experiment. He said +he was a surgeon, and that in case any accident occurred +on board, he must always be in readiness. He +could not afford to have his nerve unsettled. Perhaps +he was quite right, but I am inclined to think +that this precaution was prompted by his inclination. +On inquiry, he informed me that there was no one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span> +on board who would be likely to join me in my investigations, +and after a little more conversation I +left him. A little later I met the captain, and told +him my story. I said that if no one would spend the +night with me, I would ask leave to have the light +burning all night, and would try it alone.</p> + +<p>“‘Look here,’ said he, ‘I will tell you what I will +do. I will share your watch myself, and we will see +what happens. It is my belief that we can find out +between us. There may be some fellow skulking +on board who steals a passage by frightening the +passengers. It is just possible that there may be +something queer in the carpentering of that berth.’</p> + +<p>“I suggested taking the ship’s carpenter below +and examining the place; but I was overjoyed at the +captain’s offer to spend the night with me. He accordingly +sent for the workman and ordered him to +do anything I required. We went below at once. +I had all the bedding cleared out of the upper berth, +and we examined the place thoroughly to see if there +was a board loose anywhere, or a panel which could +be opened or pushed aside. We tried the planks +everywhere, tapped the flooring, unscrewed the fittings +of the lower berth and took it to pieces—in +short, there was not a square inch of the stateroom +which was not searched and tested. Everything was +in perfect order, and we put everything back in its +place. As we were finishing our work, Robert came +to the door, and looked in.</p> + +<p>“‘Well, sir—find anything, sir?’ he asked with a +ghastly grin.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p> + +<p>“‘You were right about the porthole, Robert,’ +I said, and I gave him the promised sovereign. The +carpenter did his work silently and skilfully, following +my directions. When he had done he spoke.</p> + +<p>“‘I’m a plain man, sir,’ he said. ‘But it’s my belief +you had better just turn out your things and let me +run half a dozen four-inch screws through the door +of this cabin. There’s no good never came o’ this +cabin yet, sir, and that’s all about it. There’s been +four lives lost out o’ here to my own remembrance, +and that in four trips. Better give it up, sir—better +give it up!’</p> + +<p>“‘I will try it for one night more,’ I said.</p> + +<p>“‘Better give it up, sir—better give it up! It’s +a precious bad job,’ repeated the workman, putting +his tools in his bag and leaving the cabin.</p> + +<p>“But my spirits had risen considerably at the prospect +of having the captain’s company, and I made +up my mind not to be prevented from going to the +end of the strange business. I abstained from Welsh +rarebits and grog that evening, and did not even +join in the customary game of whist. I wanted to +be quite sure of my nerves, and my vanity made me +anxious to make a good figure in the captain’s eyes.</p> + + +<p class="c large">IV</p> + +<p>“The captain was one of those splendidly tough +and cheerful specimens of seafaring humanity, whose +combined courage, hardihood, and calmness in difficulty +leads them naturally into high positions of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> +trust. He was not the man to be led away by an +idle tale, and the mere fact that he was willing to +join me in the investigation was proof that he +thought there was something seriously wrong, which +could not be accounted for on ordinary theories, nor +laughed down as a common superstition. To some +extent, too, his reputation was at stake, as well as +the reputation of the ship. It is no light thing to +lose passengers overboard, and he knew it.</p> + +<p>“About ten o’clock that evening, as I was smoking +a last cigar, he came up to me and drew me aside +from the beat of the other passengers who were +patrolling the deck in the warm darkness.</p> + +<p>“‘This is a serious matter, Mr. Brisbane,’ he said. +‘We must make up our minds either way—to be disappointed +or to have a pretty rough time of it. You +see, I cannot afford to laugh at the affair, and I will +ask you to sign your name to a statement of whatever +occurs. If nothing happens to-night, we will +try it again to-morrow and next day. Are you +ready?’</p> + +<p>“So we went below and entered the stateroom. +As we went in I could see Robert, the steward, who +stood a little further down the passage, watching +us, with his usual grin, as though certain that something +dreadful was about to happen. The captain +closed the door behind us and bolted it.</p> + +<p>“‘Suppose we put your portmanteau before the +door,’ he suggested. ‘One of us can sit on it. Nothing +can get out then. Is the port screwed down?’</p> + +<p>“I found it as I had left it in the morning. Indeed,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span> +without using a lever, as I had done, no one +could have opened it. I drew back the curtains of +the upper berth so that I could see well into it. By +the captain’s advice, I lighted my reading-lantern, +and placed it so that it shone upon the white sheets +above. He insisted upon sitting on the portmanteau, +declaring that he wished to be able to swear that +he had sat before the door.</p> + +<p>“Then he requested me to search the stateroom +thoroughly, an operation very soon accomplished, +as it consisted merely in looking beneath the lower +berth and under the couch below the porthole. The +spaces were quite empty.</p> + +<p>“‘It is impossible for any human being to get in,’ +I said, ’or for any human being to open the port.’</p> + +<p>“‘Very good,’ said the captain, calmly. ‘If we +see anything now, it must be either imagination or +something supernatural.’</p> + +<p>“I sat down on the edge of the lower berth.</p> + +<p>“‘The first time it happened,’ said the captain, +crossing his legs and leaning back against the door, +‘was in March. The passenger who slept here, in +the upper berth, turned out to have been a lunatic—at +all events, he was known to have been a little +touched, and he had taken his passage without the +knowledge of his friends. He rushed out in the +middle of the night, and threw himself overboard, +before the officer who had the watch could stop him. +We stopped and lowered a boat, it was a quiet night, +just before that heavy weather came on; but we +could not find him. Of course his suicide was afterward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span> +accounted for on the ground of his insanity.’</p> + +<p>“‘I suppose that often happens?’ I remarked, +rather absently.</p> + +<p>“‘Not often—no,’ said the captain; ‘never before +in my experience, though I have heard of it happening +on board of other ships. Well, as I was saying, +that occurred in March. On the very next trip—What +are you looking at?’ he asked, stopping suddenly +in his narration.</p> + +<p>“I believe I gave no answer. My eyes were +riveted upon the porthole. It seemed to me that +the brass loop-nut was beginning to turn very slowly +upon the screw—so slowly, however, that I was not +sure it moved at all. I watched it intently, fixing +its position in my mind, and trying to ascertain +whether it changed. Seeing where I was looking, +the captain looked too.</p> + +<p>“‘It moves!’ he exclaimed, in a tone of conviction. +‘No, it does not,’ he added, after a minute.</p> + +<p>“‘If it were the jarring of the screw,’ said I, ‘it +would have opened during the day; but I found it +this evening jammed tight as I left it this morning.’</p> + +<p>“I rose and tried the nut. It was certainly loosened, +for by an effort I could move it with my +hands.</p> + +<p>“‘The queer thing,’ said the captain, ‘is that the +second man who was lost is supposed to have got +through that very port. We had a terrible time +over it. It was in the middle of the night, and the +weather was very heavy; there was an alarm that +one of the ports was open and the sea running in.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span> +I came below and found everything flooded, the +water pouring in every time she rolled, and the +whole port swinging from the top bolts—not the +porthole in the middle. Well, we managed to shut +it, but the water did some damage. Ever since that +the place smells of seawater from time to time. We +supposed the passenger had thrown himself out, +though the Lord only knows how he did it. The +steward kept telling me that he could not keep anything +shut here. Upon my word—I can smell it +now, cannot you?’ he inquired, sniffing the air suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“‘Yes—distinctly,’ I said, and I shuddered as +that same odor of stagnant seawater grew stronger +in the cabin. ‘Now, to smell like this, the place must +be damp,’ I continued, ‘and yet when I examined it +with the carpenter this morning, everything was perfectly +dry. It is most extraordinary—hallo!’</p> + +<p>“My reading-lantern, which had been placed in +the upper berth, was suddenly extinguished. There +was still a good deal of light from the pane of +ground-glass near the door, behind which loomed +the regulation lamp. The ship rolled heavily, and +the curtain of the upper berth swung far out into +the stateroom and back again. I rose quickly from +my seat on the edge of the bed, and the captain at +the same moment started to his feet with a loud cry +of surprise. I had turned with the intention of taking +down the lantern to examine it, when I heard +his exclamation, and immediately afterward his call +for help. I sprang toward him. He was wrestling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span> +with all his might with the brass loop of the port. +It seemed to turn against his hands in spite of all +his efforts. I caught up my cane, a heavy oak stick +I always used to carry, and thrust it through the +ring and bore on it with all my strength. But the +strong wood snapped suddenly, and I fell upon the +couch. When I rose again the port was wide open, +and the captain was standing with his back against +the door pale to the lips.</p> + +<p>“‘There is something in that berth!’ he cried, in +a strange voice, his eyes almost starting from his +head. ‘Hold the door, while I look—it shall not +escape us, whatever it is!’</p> + +<p>“But instead of taking his place, I sprang upon +the lower bed and seized something which lay in the +upper berth.</p> + +<p>“It was something ghostly, horrible beyond words, +and it moved in my grip. It was like the body of a +man long drowned, and yet it moved and had the +strength of ten men living; but I gripped it with all +my might—the slippery, oozy, horrible thing. The +dead white eyes seemed to stare at me out of the +dusk; the putrid odor of rank seawater was about it, +and its shiny hair hung in foul wet curls over its dead +face. I wrestled with the dead thing; it thrust itself +upon me and forced me back and nearly broke my +arms; it wound its corpse’s arms about my neck, the +living death, and overpowered me, so that I, at last, +cried aloud and fell and left my hold.</p> + +<p>“As I fell, the thing sprang across me and seemed +to throw itself upon the captain. When I last saw<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> +him on his feet, his face was white and his lips set. +It seemed to me that he struck a violent blow at the +dead being, and then he, too, fell forward upon his +face, with an inarticulate cry of horror.</p> + +<p>“The thing paused an instant, seeming to hover +over his prostrate body, and I could have screamed +again for very fright, but I had no voice left. The +thing vanished suddenly, and it seemed to my disturbed +senses that it made its exit through the open +port, though how that was possible, considering the +smallness of the aperture, is more than any one can +tell. I lay a long time upon the floor, and the captain +lay beside me. At last I partially recovered my +senses and moved, and I instantly knew that my +arm was broken—the small bone of the left forearm +near the wrist.</p> + +<p>“I got upon my feet somehow, and with my remaining +hand I tried to raise the captain. He +groaned and moved, and at last came to himself. +He was not hurt, but he seemed badly stunned.</p> + +<p>“Well, do you want to hear any more? There +is nothing more. That is the end of my story. The +carpenter carried out his scheme of running half a +dozen four-inch screws through the door of one +hundred and five, and if ever you take a passage in +the ‘Kamtschatka,’ you may ask for a berth in that +stateroom. You will be told that it is engaged—yes—it +is engaged by that dead thing.</p> + +<p>“I finished the trip in the surgeon’s cabin. He +doctored my broken arm, and advised me not to +‘fiddle about with ghosts and things’ any more. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span> +captain was very silent, and never sailed again in +that ship, though it is still running. And I will not +sail in her either. It was a very disagreeable experience, +and I was very badly frightened, which is a +thing I do not like. That is all. That is how I saw +a ghost—if it was a ghost. It was dead, anyhow.”</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c7">THE DIAMOND LENS</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Fitz-James O’Brien</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>From “The Diamond Lens, and Other Stories,” edited by +William Winter, 1885.</p></div> + + +<p class="c large">I</p> + +<p class="c large">THE BENDING OF THE TWIG</p> + +<p><span class="smcap large">From</span> a very early period of my life the entire bent +of my inclinations had been towards microscopic +investigations. When I was not more than ten years +old, a distant relative of our family, hoping to astonish +my inexperience, constructed a simple microscope +for me, by drilling in a disk of copper a small +hole, in which a drop of pure water was sustained +by capillary attraction. This very primitive apparatus, +magnifying some fifty diameters, presented, +it is true, only indistinct and imperfect forms, but +still sufficiently wonderful to work up my imagination +to a preternatural state of excitement.</p> + +<p>Seeing me so interested in this rude instrument, +my cousin explained to me all that he knew about +the principles of the microscope, related to me a few +of the wonders which had been accomplished +through its agency, and ended by promising to send<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span> +me one regularly constructed, immediately on his +return to the city. I counted the days, the hours, +the minutes, that intervened between that promise +and his departure.</p> + +<p>Meantime I was not idle. Every transparent substance +that bore the remotest resemblance to a lens +I eagerly seized upon, and employed in vain attempts +to realize that instrument, the theory of whose construction +I as yet only vaguely comprehended. All +panes of glass containing those oblate spheroidal +knots familiarly known as “bull’s-eyes” were ruthlessly +destroyed, in the hope of obtaining lenses of +marvellous power. I even went so far as to extract +the crystalline humor from the eyes of fishes and +animals, and endeavored to press it into the microscopic +service. I plead guilty to having stolen the +glasses from my Aunt Agatha’s spectacles, with a +dim idea of grinding them into lenses of wondrous +magnifying properties,—in which attempt it is +scarcely necessary to say that I totally failed.</p> + +<p>At last the promised instrument came. It was of +that order known as Field’s simple microscope, and +had cost perhaps about fifteen dollars. As far as +educational purposes went, a better apparatus could +not have been selected. Accompanying it was a +small treatise on the microscope,—its history, uses, +and discoveries. I comprehended then for the first +time the “Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.” The +dull veil of ordinary existence that hung across the +world seemed suddenly to roll away, and to lay bare +a land of enchantments. I felt towards my companions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> +as the seer might feel towards the ordinary +masses of men. I held conversations with nature +in a tongue which they could not understand. I was +in daily communication with living wonders, such as +they never imagined in their wildest visions. I +penetrated beyond the external portal of things, and +roamed through the sanctuaries. Where they beheld +only a drop of rain slowly rolling down the window-glass, +I saw a universe of beings animated with all +the passions common to physical life, and convulsing +their minute sphere with struggles as fierce and protracted +as those of men. In the common spots of +mold, which my mother, good housekeeper that +she was, fiercely scooped away from her jam pots, +there abode for me, under the name of mildew, enchanted +gardens, filled with dells and avenues of the +densest foliage and most astonishing verdure, while +from the fantastic boughs of these microscopic +forests, hung strange fruits glittering with green, +and silver, and gold.</p> + +<p>It was no scientific thirst that at this time filled +my mind. It was the pure enjoyment of a poet to +whom a world of wonders has been disclosed. I +talked of my solitary pleasures to none. Alone with +my microscope, I dimmed my sight, day after day +and night after night, poring over the marvels which +it unfolded to me. I was like one who, having discovered +the ancient Eden still existing in all its primitive +glory, should resolve to enjoy it in solitude, +and never betray to mortal the secret of its locality.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span> +The rod of my life was bent at this moment. I +destined myself to be a microscopist.</p> + +<p>Of course, like every novice, I fancied myself a +discoverer. I was ignorant at the time of the +thousands of acute intellects engaged in the same +pursuit as myself, and with the advantage of instruments +a thousand times more powerful than mine. +The names of Leeuwenhoek, Williamson, Spencer, +Ehrenberg, Schultz, Dujardin, Schact, and Schleiden +were then entirely unknown to me, or if known, I +was ignorant of their patient and wonderful researches. +In every fresh specimen of cryptogamia +which I placed beneath my instrument I believed that +I discovered wonders of which the world was as yet +ignorant. I remember well the thrill of delight and +admiration that shot through me the first time that +I discovered the common wheel animalcule (<i>Rotifera +vulgaris</i>) expanding and contracting its flexible +spokes, and seemingly rotating through the water. +Alas! as I grew older, and obtained some works +treating of my favorite study, I found that I was +only on the threshold of a science to the investigation +of which some of the greatest men of the age +were devoting their lives and intellects.</p> + +<p>As I grew up, my parents, who saw but little likelihood +of anything practical resulting from the examination +of bits of moss and drops of water +through a brass tube and a piece of glass, were +anxious that I should choose a profession. It was +their desire that I should enter the counting-house +of my uncle, Ethan Blake, a prosperous merchant,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span> +who carried on business in New York. This suggestion +I decisively combated. I had no taste for +trade; I should only make a failure; in short, I +refused to become a merchant.</p> + +<p>But it was necessary for me to select some pursuit. +My parents were staid New England people, who +insisted on the necessity of labor; and therefore, +although, thanks to the bequest of my poor Aunt +Agatha, I should, on coming of age, inherit a small +fortune sufficient to place me above want, it was +decided that, instead of waiting for this, I should act +the nobler part, and employ the intervening years +in rendering myself independent.</p> + +<p>After much cogitation I complied with the wishes +of my family, and selected a profession. I determined +to study medicine at the New York Academy. +This disposition of my future suited me. A removal +from my relatives would enable me to dispose of my +time as I pleased without fear of detection. As +long as I paid my Academy fees, I might shirk attending +the lectures if I chose; and, as I never had +the remotest intention of standing an examination, +there was no danger of my being “plucked.” Besides, +a metropolis was the place for me. There I +could obtain excellent instruments, the newest publications, +intimacy with men of pursuits kindred with +my own,—in short, all things necessary to insure a +profitable devotion of my life to my beloved science. +I had an abundance of money, few desires that were +not bounded by my illuminating mirror on one side +and my object-glass on the other; what, therefore,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span> +was to prevent my becoming an illustrious investigator +of the veiled worlds? It was with the most +buoyant hope that I left my New England home +and established myself in New York.</p> + + +<p class="c large">II</p> + +<p class="c large">THE LONGING OF A MAN OF SCIENCE</p> + +<p>My first step, of course, was to find suitable +apartments. These I obtained, after a couple of +days’ search, in Fourth Avenue; a very pretty +second-floor unfurnished, containing sitting-room, +bedroom, and a smaller apartment which I intended +to fit up as a laboratory. I furnished my lodgings +simply, but rather elegantly, and then devoted all +my energies to the adornment of the temple of my +worship. I visited Pike, the celebrated optician, +and passed in review his splendid collection of +microscopes,—Field’s Compound, Hingham’s, Spencer’s, +Nachet’s Binocular (that founded on the +principles of the stereoscope), and at length fixed +upon that form known as Spencer’s Trunnion +Microscope, as combining the greatest number of +improvements with an almost perfect freedom from +tremor. Along with this I purchased every possible +accessory,—draw-tubes, micrometers, a <i>camera-lucida</i>, +lever-stage, achromatic condensers, white +cloud illuminators, prisms, parabolic condensers, +polarizing apparatus, forceps, aquatic boxes, fishing-tubes, +with a host of other articles, all of which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span> +would have been useful in the hands of an experienced +microscopist, but, as I afterwards discovered, +were not of the slightest present value to me. It +takes years of practice to know how to use a complicated +microscope. The optician looked suspiciously +at me as I made these wholesale purchases. +He evidently was uncertain whether to set me down +as some scientific celebrity or a madman. I think +he inclined to the latter belief. I suppose I was +mad. Every great genius is mad upon the subject +in which he is greatest. The unsuccessful madman +is disgraced and called a lunatic.</p> + +<p>Mad or not, I set myself to work with a zeal +which few scientific students have ever equalled. I +had everything to learn relative to the delicate study +upon which I had embarked,—a study involving the +most earnest patience, the most rigid analytic +powers, the steadiest hand, the most untiring eyes, +the most refined and subtile manipulation.</p> + +<p>For a long time half my apparatus lay inactively +on the shelves of my laboratory, which was now +most amply furnished with every possible contrivance +for facilitating my investigations. The fact +was that I did not know how to use some of my +scientific implements,—never having been taught +microscopics,—and those whose use I understood +theoretically were of little avail, until by practice +I could attain the necessary delicacy of handling. +Still, such was the fury of my ambition, such the untiring +perseverance of my experiments, that, difficult +of credit as it may be, in the course of one year I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span> +became theoretically and practically an accomplished +microscopist.</p> + +<p>During this period of my labors, in which I submitted +specimens of every substance that came under +my observation to the action of my lenses, I became +a discover—in a small way, it is true, for I was very +young, but still a discover. It was I who destroyed +Ehrenberg’s theory that the <i>Volvox globator</i> was an +animal, and proved that his “nomads” with stomachs +and eyes were merely phases of the formation of a +vegetable cell, and were, when they reached their +mature state, incapable of the act of conjugation, or +any true generative act, without which no organism +rising to any stage of life higher than vegetable can +be said to be complete. It was I who resolved the +singular problem of rotation in the cells and hairs +of plants into ciliary attraction, in spite of the assertions +of Mr. Wenham and others, that my explanation +was the result of an optical illusion.</p> + +<p>But notwithstanding these discoveries, laboriously +and painfully made as they were, I felt horribly +dissatisfied. At every step I found myself stopped +by the imperfections of my instruments. Like all +active microscopists, I gave my imagination full +play. Indeed, it is a common complaint against +many such, that they supply the defects of their instruments +with the creations of their brains. I +imagined depths beyond depths in nature which the +limited power of my lenses prohibited me from +exploring. I lay awake at night constructing imaginary +microscopes of immeasurable power, with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span> +which I seemed to pierce through the envelopes of +matter down to its original atom. How I cursed +those imperfect mediums which necessity through +ignorance compelled me to use! How I longed to +discover the secret of some perfect lens, whose +magnifying power should be limited only by the +resolvability of the object, and which at the same +time should be free from spherical and chromatic +aberrations, in short from all the obstacles over +which the poor microscopist finds himself continually +stumbling! I felt convinced that the simple +microscope, composed of a single lens of such vast +yet perfect power was possible of construction. To +attempt to bring the compound microscope up to +such a pitch would have been commencing at the +wrong end; this latter being simply a partially +successful endeavor to remedy those very defects of +the simple instrument which, if conquered, would +leave nothing to be desired.</p> + +<p>It was in this mood of mind that I became a constructive +microscopist. After another year passed +in this new pursuit, experimenting on every imaginable +substance,—glass, gems, flints, crystals, artificial +crystals formed of the alloy of various vitreous +materials,—in short, having constructed as many +varieties of lenses as Argus had eyes, I found myself +precisely where I started, with nothing gained save +an extensive knowledge of glass-making. I was +almost dead with despair. My parents were surprised +at my apparent want of progress in my +medical studies (I had not attended one lecture since<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span> +my arrival in the city), and the expenses of my mad +pursuit had been so great as to embarrass me very +seriously.</p> + +<p>I was in this frame of mind one day, experimenting +in my laboratory on a small diamond,—that +stone, from its great refracting power, having always +occupied my attention more than any other,—when +a young Frenchman, who lived on the floor above +me, and who was in the habit of occasionally visiting +me, entered the room.</p> + +<p>I think that Jules Simon was a Jew. He had many +traits of the Hebrew character: a love of jewelry, +of dress, and of good living. There was something +mysterious about him. He always had something to +sell, and yet went into excellent society. When I say +sell, I should perhaps have said peddle; for his operations +were generally confined to the disposal of +single articles,—a picture, for instance, or a rare +carving in ivory, or a pair of duelling-pistols, or the +dress of a Mexican <i>caballero</i>. When I was first +furnishing my rooms, he paid me a visit, which +ended in my purchasing an antique silver lamp, +which he assured me was a Cellini,—it was handsome +enough even for that,—and some other knick-knacks +for my sitting-room. Why Simon should +pursue this petty trade I never could imagine. He +apparently had plenty of money, and had the <i>entrée</i> +of the best houses in the city,—taking care, however, +I suppose, to drive no bargains within the enchanted +circle of the Upper Ten. I came at length to the +conclusion that this peddling was but a mask to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span> +cover some greater object, and even went so far as +to believe my young acquaintance to be implicated +in the slave-trade. That, however, was none of my +affair.</p> + +<p>On the present occasion, Simon entered my room +in a state of considerable excitement.</p> + +<p>“<i>Ah! mon ami!</i>” he cried, before I could even +offer him the ordinary salutation, “it has occurred +to me to be the witness of the most astonishing +things in the world. I promenade myself to the +house of Madame—how does the little animal—<i>le +renard</i>—name himself in the Latin?”</p> + +<p>“Vulpes,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“Ah! yes,—Vulpes. I promenade myself to the +house of Madame Vulpes.”</p> + +<p>“The spirit medium?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the great medium. Great heavens! what a +woman! I write on a slip of paper many of questions +concerning affairs the most secret,—affairs that +conceal themselves in the abysses of my heart the +most profound; and behold! by example! what occurs? +This devil of a woman makes me replies the +most truthful to all of them. She talks to me of +things that I do not love to talk of to myself. What +am I to think? I am fixed to the earth!”</p> + +<p>“Am I to understand you, M. Simon, that this +Mrs. Vulpes replied to questions secretly written by +you, which questions related to events known only +to yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Ah! more than that, more than that,” he answered, +with an air of some alarm. “She related to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span> +me things—But,” he added, after a pause, and +suddenly changing his manner, “why occupy ourselves +with these follies? It was all the biology, +without doubt. It goes without saying that it has +not my credence— But why are we here, <i>mon ami</i>? +It has occurred to me to discover the most beautiful +thing as you can imagine,—a vase with green lizards +on it, composed by the great Bernard Palissy. It is +in my apartment; let us mount. I go to show it to +you.”</p> + +<p>I followed Simon mechanically; but my thoughts +were far from Palissy and his enamelled ware, +although I, like him, was seeking in the dark a great +discovery. This casual mention of the spiritualist, +Madame Vulpes, set me on a new track. What if +this spiritualism should be really a great fact? +What if, through communication with more subtile +organisms than my own, I could reach at a single +bound the goal, which perhaps a life of agonizing +mental toil would never enable me to attain?</p> + +<p>While purchasing the Palissy vase from my friend +Simon, I was mentally arranging a visit to Madame +Vulpes.</p> + + +<p class="c large">III</p> + +<p class="c large">THE SPIRIT OF LEEUWENHOEK</p> + +<p>Two evenings after this, thanks to an arrangement +by letter and the promise of an ample fee, I +found Madame Vulpes awaiting me at her residence<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span> +alone. She was a coarse-featured woman, with keen +and rather cruel dark eyes, and an exceedingly sensual +expression about her mouth and under jaw. +She received me in perfect silence, in an apartment +on the ground floor, very sparely furnished. In the +centre of the room, close to where Mrs. Vulpes sat, +there was a common round mahogany table. If I +had come for the purpose of sweeping her chimney, +the woman could not have looked more indifferent +to my appearance. There was no attempt to inspire +the visitor with awe. Everything bore a simple and +practical aspect. This intercourse with the spiritual +world was evidently as familiar an occupation with +Mrs. Vulpes as eating her dinner or riding in an +omnibus.</p> + +<p>“You come for a communication, Mr. Linley?” +said the medium, in a dry, business-like tone of voice.</p> + +<p>“By appointment,—yes.”</p> + +<p>“What sort of communication do you want—a +written one?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I wish for a written one.”</p> + +<p>“From any particular spirit?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Have you ever known this spirit on this earth?”</p> + +<p>“Never. He died long before I was born. I wish +merely to obtain from him some information which +he ought to be able to give better than any other.”</p> + +<p>“Will you seat yourself at the table, Mr. Linley,” +said the medium, “and place your hands upon it?”</p> + +<p>I obeyed,—Mrs. Vulpes being seated opposite to +me, with her hands also on the table. We remained<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span> +thus for about a minute and a half, when a violent +succession of raps came on the table, on the back of +my chair, on the floor immediately under my feet, +and even on the window-panes. Mrs. Vulpes smiled +composedly.</p> + +<p>“They are very strong to-night,” she remarked. +“You are fortunate.” She then continued, “Will the +spirits communicate with this gentleman?”</p> + +<p>Vigorous affirmative.</p> + +<p>“Will the particular spirit he desires to speak with +communicate?”</p> + +<p>A very confused rapping followed this question.</p> + +<p>“I know what they mean,” said Mrs. Vulpes, addressing +herself to me; “they wish you to write down +the name of the particular spirit that you desire to +converse with. Is that so?” she added, speaking +to her invisible guests.</p> + +<p>That it was so was evident from the numerous +affirmatory responses. While this was going on, I +tore a slip from my pocket-book, and scribbled a +name, under the table.</p> + +<p>“Will this spirit communicate in writing with this +gentleman?” asked the medium once more.</p> + +<p>After a moment’s pause, her hand seemed to be +seized with a violent tremor, shaking so forcibly +that the table vibrated. She said that a spirit had +seized her hand and would write. I handed her +some sheets of paper that were on the table, and a +pencil. The latter she held loosely in her hand, +which presently began to move over the paper with +a singular and seemingly involuntary motion. After<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span> +a few moments had elapsed, she handed me the +paper, on which I found written, in a large, uncultivated +hand, the words, “He is not here, but has +been sent for.” A pause of a minute or so now ensued, +during which Mrs. Vulpes remained perfectly +silent, but the raps continued at regular intervals. +When the short period I mention had elapsed, the +hand of the medium was again seized with its convulsive +tremor, and she wrote, under this strange +influence, a few words on the paper, which she +handed to me. They were as follows:—</p> + +<p>“I am here. Question me. Leeuwenhoek.”</p> + +<p>I was astounded. The name was identical with +that I had written beneath the table, and carefully +kept concealed. Neither was it at all probable that +an uncultivated woman like Mrs. Vulpes should +know even the name of the great father of microscopics. +It may have been biology; but this theory +was soon doomed to be destroyed. I wrote on my +slip—still concealing it from Mrs. Vulpes—a series +of questions, which, to avoid tediousness, I shall +place with the responses, in the order in which they +occurred:—</p> + +<p>I.—Can the microscope be brought to perfection?</p> + +<p>Spirit.—Yes.</p> + +<p>I.—Am I destined to accomplish this great task?</p> + +<p>Spirit.—You are.</p> + +<p>I.—I wish to know how to proceed to attain this +end. For the love which you bear to science, help +me!</p> + +<p>Spirit.—A diamond of one hundred and forty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span> +carats, submitted to electro-magnetic currents for a +long period, will experience a rearrangement of its +atoms <i>inter se</i>, and from that stone you will form +the universal lens.</p> + +<p>I.—Will great discoveries result from the use of +such a lens?</p> + +<p>Spirit.—So great that all that has gone before is +as nothing.</p> + +<p>I.—But the refractive power of the diamond is so +immense, that the image will be formed within the +lens. How is that difficulty to be surmounted?</p> + +<p>Spirit.—Pierce the lens through its axis, and the +difficulty is obviated. The image will be formed in +the pierced space, which will itself serve as a tube +to look through. Now I am called. Good-night.</p> + +<p>I cannot at all describe the effect that these extraordinary +communications had upon me. I felt completely +bewildered. No biological theory could account +for the <i>discovery</i> of the lens. The medium +might, by means of biological <i>rapport</i> with my mind, +have gone so far as to read my questions, and +reply to them coherently. But biology could not +enable her to discover that magnetic currents would +so alter the crystals of the diamond as to remedy its +previous defects, and admit of its being polished into +a perfect lens. Some such theory may have passed +through my head, it is true; but if so, I had forgotten +it. In my excited condition of mind there was no +course left but to become a convert, and it was in a +state of the most painful nervous exaltation that I +left the medium’s house that evening. She accompanied<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span> +me to the door, hoping that I was satisfied. +The raps followed us as we went through the hall, +sounding on the balusters, the flooring, and even the +lintels of the door. I hastily expressed my satisfaction, +and escaped hurriedly into the cool night air. +I walked home with but one thought possessing me,—how +to obtain a diamond of the immense size required. +My entire means multiplied a hundred +times over would have been inadequate to its purchase. +Besides, such stones are rare, and become +historical. I could find such only in the regalia of +Eastern or European monarchs.</p> + + +<p class="c large">IV</p> + +<p class="c large">THE EYE OF MORNING</p> + +<p>There was a light in Simon’s room as I entered +my house. A vague impulse urged me to visit him. +As I opened the door of his sitting-room unannounced, +he was bending, with his back toward me, +over a carcel lamp, apparently engaged in minutely +examining some object which he held in his hands. +As I entered, he started suddenly thrust his hand +into his breast pocket, and turned to me with a face +crimson with confusion.</p> + +<p>“What!” I cried, “poring over the miniature of +some fair lady? Well, don’t blush so much; I +won’t ask to see it.”</p> + +<p>Simon laughed awkwardly enough, but made<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span> +none of the negative protestations usual on such +occasions. He asked me to take a seat.</p> + +<p>“Simon,” said I, “I have just come from Madame +Vulpes.”</p> + +<p>This time Simon turned as white as a sheet, and +seemed stupefied, as if a sudden electric shock had +smitten him. He babbled some incoherent words, +and went hastily to a small closet where he usually +kept his liquors. Although astonished at his emotion, +I was too preoccupied with my own idea to pay +much attention to anything else.</p> + +<p>“You say truly when you call Madame Vulpes a +devil of a woman,” I continued. “Simon, she told +me wonderful things to-night, or rather was the +means of telling me wonderful things. Ah! if I +could only get a diamond that weighed one hundred +and forty carats!”</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the sigh with which I uttered this +desire died upon my lips, when Simon, with the aspect +of a wild beast, glared at me savagely, and, +rushing to the mantelpiece, where some foreign +weapons hung on the wall, caught up a Malay creese, +and brandished it furiously before him.</p> + +<p>“No!” he cried in French, into which he always +broke when excited. “No! you shall not have it! +You are perfidious! You have consulted with that +demon, and desire my treasure! But I will die first! +Me! I am brave! You cannot make me fear!”</p> + +<p>All this, uttered in a loud voice trembling with +excitement, astounded me. I saw at a glance that +I had accidentally trodden upon the edges of Simon’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span> +secret, whatever it was. It was necessary to reassure +him.</p> + +<p>“My dear Simon,” I said, “I am entirely at a loss +to know what you mean. I went to Madame Vulpes +to consult with her on a scientific problem, to the +solution of which I discovered that a diamond of the +size I just mentioned was necessary. You were +never alluded to during the evening, nor, so far as +I was concerned, even thought of. What can be the +meaning of this outburst? If you happen to have +a set of valuable diamonds in your possession, you +need fear nothing from me. The diamond which I +require you could not possess; or, if you did possess +it, you would not be living here.”</p> + +<p>Something in my tone must have completely reassured +him; for his expression immediately changed +to a sort of constrained merriment, combined, however, +with a certain suspicious attention to my +movements. He laughed, and said that I must +bear with him; that he was at certain moments subject +to a species of vertigo, which betrayed itself +in incoherent speeches, and that the attacks passed +off as rapidly as they came. He put his weapon +aside while making this explanation, and endeavored, +with some success, to assume a more cheerful +air.</p> + +<p>All this did not impose on me in the least. I was +too much accustomed to analytical labors to be +baffled by so flimsy a veil. I determined to probe +the mystery to the bottom.</p> + +<p>“Simon,” I said, gayly, “let us forget all this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span> +over a bottle of Burgundy. I have a case of Lausseure’s +<i>Clos Vougeot</i> downstairs, fragrant with the +odors and ruddy with the sunlight of the Côte d’Or. +Let us have up a couple of bottles. What say you?”</p> + +<p>“With all my heart,” answered Simon, smilingly.</p> + +<p>I produced the wine and we seated ourselves to +drink. It was of a famous vintage, that of 1848, a +year when war and wine throve together,—and its +pure but powerful juice seemed to impart renewed +vitality to the system. By the time we had half +finished the second bottle, Simon’s head, which I +knew was a weak one, had begun to yield, while I +remained calm as ever, only that every draught +seemed to send a flush of vigor through my limbs. +Simon’s utterance became more and more indistinct. +He took to singing French <i>chansons</i> of a not +very moral tendency. I rose suddenly from the +table just at the conclusion of one of those incoherent +verses, and fixing my eyes on him with a quiet +smile, said: “Simon, I have deceived you. I +learned your secret this evening. You may as well +be frank with me. Mrs. Vulpes, or rather one of +her spirits, told me all.”</p> + +<p>He started with horror. His intoxication seemed +for the moment to fade away, and he made a movement +towards the weapon that he had a short time +before laid down. I stopped him with my hand.</p> + +<p>“Monster!” he cried, passionately, “I am ruined! +What shall I do? You shall never have it! I +swear by my mother!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span></p> + +<p>“I don’t want it,” I said; “rest secure, but be +frank with me. Tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p>The drunkenness began to return. He protested +with maudlin earnestness that I was entirely mistaken,—that +I was intoxicated; then asked me to +swear eternal secrecy, and promised to disclose the +mystery to me. I pledged myself, of course, to all. +With an uneasy look in his eyes, and hands unsteady +with drink and nervousness, he drew a small case +from his breast and opened it. Heavens! How +the mild lamplight was shivered into a thousand +prismatic arrows, as it fell upon a vast rose-diamond +that glittered in the case! I was no judge of diamonds, +but I saw at a glance that this was a gem +of rare size and purity. I looked at Simon with +wonder, and—must I confess it?—with envy. How +could he have obtained this treasure? In reply to +my questions, I could just gather from his drunken +statements (of which, I fancy, half the incoherence +was affected) that he had been superintending a +gang of slaves engaged in diamond-washing in +Brazil; that he had seen one of them secrete a diamond, +but, instead of informing his employers, had +quietly watched the negro until he saw him bury his +treasure; that he had dug it up and fled with it, but +that as yet he was afraid to attempt to dispose of it +publicly,—so valuable a gem being almost certain to +attract too much attention to its owner’s antecedents,—and +he had not been able to discover any of those +obscure channels by which such matters are conveyed +away safely. He added, that, in accordance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span> +with oriental practice, he had named his diamond +with the fanciful title of “The Eye of Morning.”</p> + +<p>While Simon was relating this to me, I regarded +the great diamond attentively. Never had I beheld +anything so beautiful. All the glories of light, ever +imagined or described, seemed to pulsate in its +crystalline chambers. Its weight, as I learned from +Simon, was exactly one hundred and forty carats. +Here was an amazing coincidence. The hand of +destiny seemed in it. On the very evening when the +spirit of Leeuwenhoek communicates to me the +great secret of the microscope, the priceless means +which he directs me to employ start up within my +easy reach! I determined, with the most perfect +deliberation, to possess myself of Simon’s diamond.</p> + +<p>I sat opposite to him while he nodded over his +glass, and calmly revolved the whole affair. I did +not for an instant contemplate so foolish an act as a +common theft, which would of course be discovered +or at least necessitate flight and concealment, all of +which must interfere with my scientific plans. +There was but one step to be taken,—to kill Simon. +After all, what was the life of a little peddling Jew, +in comparison with the interests of science? Human +beings are taken every day from the condemned +prisons to be experimented on by surgeons. This +man, Simon, was by his own confession a criminal, +a robber, and I believed on my soul a murderer. He +deserved death quite as much as any felon condemned +by the laws: why should I not, like government,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span> +contrive that his punishment should contribute +to the progress of human knowledge?</p> + +<p>The means for accomplishing everything I desired +lay within my reach. There stood upon the mantelpiece +a bottle half full of French laudanum. Simon +was so occupied with his diamond, which I had just +restored to him, that it was an affair of no difficulty +to drug his glass. In a quarter of an hour he was in +a profound sleep.</p> + +<p>I now opened his waistcoat, took the diamond +from the inner pocket in which he had placed it, and +removed him to the bed, on which I laid him so that +his feet hung down over the edge. I had possessed +myself of the Malay creese, which I held in my +right hand, while with the other I discovered as +accurately as I could by pulsation the exact locality +of the heart. It was essential that all the aspects +of his death should lead to the surmise of self-murder. +I calculated the exact angle at which it +was probable that the weapon, if levelled by Simon’s +own hand, would enter his breast; then with one +powerful blow I thrust it up to the hilt in the very +spot which I desired to penetrate. A convulsive +thrill ran through Simon’s limbs. I heard a smothered +sound issue from his throat, precisely like the +bursting of a larger air-bubble, sent up by a diver, +when it reaches the surface of the water; he turned +half round on his side, and, as if to assist my plans +more effectually, his right hand, moved by some +mere spasmodic impulse, clasped the handle of the +creese, which it remained holding with extraordinary<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span> +muscular tenacity. Beyond this there was no apparent +struggle. The laudanum, I presume, paralyzed +the usual nervous action. He must have +died instantly.</p> + +<p>There was yet something to be done. To make +it certain that all suspicion of the act should be diverted +from any inhabitant of the house to Simon +himself, it was necessary that the door should be +found in the morning <i>locked on the inside</i>. How to +do this, and afterwards escape myself? Not by +the window; that was a physical impossibility. +Besides, I was determined that the windows <i>also</i> +should be found bolted. The solution was simple +enough. I descended softly to my own room for a +peculiar instrument which I had used for holding +small slippery substances, such as minute spheres of +glass, etc. This instrument was nothing more than +a long slender hand-vise, with a very powerful +grip, and a considerable leverage, which last was +accidentally owing to the shape of the handle. +Nothing was simpler than, when the key was in the +lock, to seize the end of its stem in this vise, through +the keyhole, from the outside, and lock the door. +Previously, however, to doing this, I burned a +number of papers on Simon’s hearth. Suicides +almost always burn papers before they destroy +themselves. I also emptied some more laudanum +into Simon’s glass,—having first removed from it +all traces of wine—cleaned the other wine-glass, +and brought the bottles away with me. If traces +of two persons drinking had been found in the room,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span> +the question naturally would have arisen, Who was +the second? Besides, the wine-bottles might have +been identified as belonging to me. The laudanum +I poured out to account for its presence in his +stomach, in case of a post-mortem examination. +The theory naturally would be, that he first intended +to poison himself, but, after swallowing a little of +the drug, was either disgusted with its taste, or +changed his mind from other motives, and chose the +dagger. These arrangements made, I walked out, +leaving the gas burning, locked the door with my +vise, and went to bed.</p> + +<p>Simon’s death was not discovered until nearly +three in the afternoon. The servant, astonished at +seeing the gas burning,—the light streaming on the +dark landing from under the door,—peeped through +the keyhole and saw Simon on the bed. She gave +the alarm. The door was burst open, and the +neighborhood was in a fever of excitement.</p> + +<p>Everyone in the house was arrested, myself included. +There was an inquest; but no clew to his +death beyond that of suicide could be obtained. +Curiously enough, he had made several speeches to +his friends the preceding week, that seemed to point +to self-destruction. One gentleman swore that +Simon had said in his presence that “he was tired of +life.” His landlord affirmed that Simon, when paying +him his last month’s rent, remarked that “he +should not pay him rent much longer.” All the +other evidence corresponded,—the door locked inside, +the position of the corpse, the burnt papers.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span> +As I anticipated, no one knew of the possession of +the diamond by Simon, so that no motive was suggested +for his murder. The jury, after a prolonged +examination, brought in the usual verdict, and the +neigborhood once more settled down into its accustomed +quiet.</p> + + +<p class="c large">V</p> + +<p class="c large">ANIMULA</p> + +<p>The three months succeeding Simon’s catastrophe +I devoted night and day to my diamond lens. I +had constructed a vast galvanic battery, composed +of nearly two thousand pairs of plates,—a higher +power I dared not use, lest the diamond should be +calcined. By means of this enormous engine I was +enabled to send a powerful current of electricity +continually through my great diamond, which it +seemed to me gained in lustre every day. At the +expiration of a month I commenced the grinding and +polishing of the lens, a work of intense toil and +exquisite delicacy. The great density of the stone, +and the care required to be taken with the curvatures +of the surfaces of the lens, rendered the labor the +severest and most harassing that I had yet undergone.</p> + +<p>At last the eventful moment came; the lens was +completed. I stood trembling on the threshold of +new worlds. I had the realization of Alexander’s +famous wish before me. The lens lay on the table,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span> +ready to be placed upon its platform. My hand +fairly shook as I enveloped a drop of water with a +thin coating of oil of turpentine, preparatory to its +examination,—a process necessary in order to prevent +the rapid evaporation of the water. I now +placed the drop on a thin slip of glass under the +lens, and throwing upon it, by the combined aid of a +prism and a mirror, a powerful stream of light, I +approached my eye to the minute hole drilled +through the axis of the lens. For an instant I saw +nothing save what seemed to be an illuminated chaos, +a vast luminous abyss. A pure white light, cloudless +and serene, and seemingly as limitless as space itself, +was my first impression. Gently, and with the +greatest care, I depressed the lens a few hair’s-breadths. +The wondrous illumination still continued, +but as the lens approached the object a scene +of indescribable beauty was unfolded to my view.</p> + +<p>I seemed to gaze upon a vast space, the limits of +which extended far beyond my vision. An atmosphere +of magical luminousness permeated the entire +field of view. I was amazed to see no trace of +animalculous life. Not a living thing, apparently, +inhabited that dazzling expanse. I comprehended +instantly that, by the wondrous power of my lens, I +had penetrated beyond the grosser particles of +aqueous matter, beyond the realms of infusoria and +protozoa, down to the original gaseous globule, into +whose luminous interior I was gazing, as into an +almost boundless dome filled with a supernatural +radiance.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span></p> + +<p>It was, however, no brilliant void into which I +looked. On every side I beheld beautiful inorganic +forms, of unknown texture, and colored with the +most enchanting hues. These forms presented the +appearance of what might be called, for want of a +more specific definition, foliated clouds of the highest +rarity; that is, they undulated and broke into +vegetable formations, and were tinged with splendors +compared with which the gilding of our autumn +woodlands is as dross compared with gold. Far +away into the illimitable distance stretched long +avenues of these gaseous forests, dimly transparent, +and painted with prismatic hues of unimaginable +brilliancy. The pendent branches waved along the +fluid glades until every vista seemed to break through +half-lucent ranks of many-colored drooping silken +pennons. What seemed to be either fruits or flowers, +pied with a thousand hues lustrous and ever +varying, bubbled from the crowns of this fairy +foliage. No hills, no lakes, no rivers, no forms animate +or inanimate, were to be seen, save those vast +auroral copses that floated serenely in the luminous +stillness, with leaves and fruits and flowers gleaming +with unknown fires, unrealizable by mere imagination.</p> + +<p>How strange, I thought, that this sphere should +be thus condemned to solitude! I had hoped, at +least, to discover some new form of animal life—perhaps +of a lower class than any with which we are +at present acquainted, but still, some living organism.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span> +I found my newly discovered world, if I may so +speak, a beautiful chromatic desert.</p> + +<p>While I was speculating on the singular arrangements +of the internal economy of Nature, with +which she so frequently splinters into atoms our +most compact theories, I thought I beheld a form +moving slowly through the glades of one of the +prismatic forests. I looked more attentively, and +found that I was not mistaken. Words cannot +depict the anxiety with which I awaited the nearer +approach of this mysterious object. Was it merely +some inanimate substance, held in suspense in the +attenuated atmosphere of the globule, or was it an +animal endowed with vitality and motion? It +approached, flitting behind the gauzy, colored veils +of cloud-foliage, for seconds dimly revealed, then +vanishing. At last the violet pennons that trailed +nearest to me vibrated; they were gently pushed +aside, and the form floated out into the broad light.</p> + +<p>It was a female human shape. When I say human, +I mean it possessed the outlines of humanity,—but +there the analogy ends. Its adorable beauty +lifted it illimitable heights beyond the loveliest +daughter of Adam.</p> + +<p>I cannot, I dare not, attempt to inventory the +charms of this divine revelation of perfect beauty. +Those eyes of mystic violet, dewy and serene, evade +my words. Her long, lustrous hair following her +glorious head in a golden wake, like the track sown +in heaven by a falling star, seems to quench my +most burning phrases with its splendors. If all the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span> +bees of Hybla nestled upon my lips, they would still +sing but hoarsely the wondrous harmonies of outline +that enclosed her form.</p> + +<p>She swept out from between the rainbow-curtains +of the cloud-trees into the broad sea of light that +lay beyond. Her motions were those of some graceful +naiad, cleaving, by a mere effort of her will, the +clear, unruffled waters that fill the chambers of the +sea. She floated forth with the serene grace of a +frail bubble ascending through the still atmosphere +of a June day. The perfect roundness of her limbs +formed suave and enchanting curves. It was like +listening to the most spiritual symphony of Beethoven +the divine, to watch the harmonious flow of +lines. This, indeed, was a pleasure cheaply purchased +at any price. What cared I if I had waded +to the portal of this wonder through another’s +blood? I would have given my own to enjoy one +such moment of intoxication and delight.</p> + +<p>Breathless with gazing on this lovely wonder, and +forgetful for an instant of everything save her presence, +I withdrew my eye from the microscope +eagerly,—alas! As my gaze fell on the thin slide +that lay beneath my instrument, the bright light +from mirror and from prism sparkled on a colorless +drop of water! There, in that tiny bead of dew, +this beautiful being was forever imprisoned. The +planet Neptune was not more distant from me than +she. I hastened once more to apply my eye to the +microscope.</p> + +<p>Animula (let me now call her by that dear name<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span> +which I subsequently bestowed on her) had changed +her position. She had again approached the wondrous +forest, and was gazing earnestly upwards. +Presently one of the trees—as I must call them—unfolded +a long ciliary process, with which it seized +one of the gleaming fruits that glittered on its summit, +and, sweeping slowly down, held it within reach +of Animula. The sylph took it in her delicate hand +and began to eat. My attention was so entirely +absorbed by her, that I could not apply myself to +the task of determining whether this singular plant +was or was not instinct with volition.</p> + +<p>I watched her, as she made her repast, with the +most profound attention. The suppleness of her +motions sent a thrill of delight through my frame; +my heart beat madly as she turned her beautiful eyes +in the direction of the spot in which I stood. What +would I not have given to have had the power to +precipitate myself into that luminous ocean, and +float with her through those groves of purple and +gold! While I was thus breathlessly following her +every movement, she suddenly started, seemed to +listen for a moment, and then cleaving the brilliant +ether in which she was floating, like a flash of light, +pierced through the opaline forest, and disappeared.</p> + +<p>Instantly a series of the most singular sensations +attacked me. It seemed as if I had suddenly gone +blind. The luminous sphere was still before me, +but my daylight had vanished. What caused this +sudden disappearance? Had she a lover or a +husband? Yes, that was the solution! Some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span> +signal from a happy fellow-being had vibrated +through the avenues of the forest, and she had +obeyed the summons.</p> + +<p>The agony of my sensations, as I arrived at this +conclusion, startled me. I tried to reject the conviction +that my reason forced upon me. I battled +against the fatal conclusion,—but in vain. It was +so. I had no escape from it. I loved an animalcule!</p> + +<p>It is true that, thanks to the marvellous power of +my microscope, she appeared of human proportions. +Instead of presenting the revolting aspect of the +coarser creatures, that live and struggle and die, in +the more easily resolvable portions of the water-drop, +she was fair and delicate and of surpassing +beauty. But of what account was all that? Every +time that my eyes was withdrawn from the instrument, +it fell on a miserable drop of water, within +which, I must be content to know, dwelt all that +could make my life lovely.</p> + +<p>Could she but see me once! Could I for one +moment pierce the mystical walls that so inexorably +rose to separate us, and whisper all that filled my +soul, I might consent to be satisfied for the rest of +my life with the knowledge of her remote sympathy. +It would be something to have established even the +faintest personal link to bind us together,—to know +that at times, when roaming through those enchanted +glades, she might think of the wonderful +stranger, who had broken the monotony of her life +with his presence, and left a gentle memory in her +heart!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> + +<p>But it could not be. No invention of which +human intellect was capable could break down the +barriers that nature had erected. I might feast my +soul upon the wondrous beauty, yet she must always +remain ignorant of the adoring eyes that day and +night gazed upon her, and, even when closed, beheld +her in dreams. With a bitter cry of anguish I fled +from the room, and, flinging myself on my bed, +sobbed myself to sleep like a child.</p> + + +<p class="c large">VI</p> + +<p class="c large">THE SPILLING OF THE CUP</p> + +<p>I arose the next morning almost at daybreak, and +rushed to my microscope. I trembled as I sought +the luminous world in miniature that contained my +all. Animula was there. I had left the gas-lamp, +surrounded by its moderators, burning when I went +to bed the night before. I found the sylph bathing, +as it were, with an expression of pleasure animating +her features, in the brilliant light which surrounded +her. She tossed her lustrous golden hair over her +shoulders with innocent coquetry. She lay at full +length in the transparent medium, in which she supported +herself with ease, and gambolled with the +enchanting grace that the nymph Salmacis might +have exhibited when she sought to conquer the +modest Hermaphroditus. I tried an experiment to +satisfy myself if her powers of reflection were developed. +I lessened the lamplight considerably. By<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span> +the dim light that remained, I could see an expression +of pain flit across her face. She looked upward +suddenly, and her brows contracted. I flooded the +stage of the microscope again with a full stream of +light, and her whole expression changed. She +sprang forward like some substance deprived of all +weight. Her eyes sparkled and her lips moved. +Ah! if science had only the means of conducting and +reduplicating sounds, as it does the rays of light, +what carols of happiness would then have entranced +my ears! what jubilant hymns to Adonais would +have thrilled the illumined air!</p> + +<p>I now comprehend how it was that the Count de +Gabalis peopled his mystic world with sylphs,—beautiful +beings whose breath of life was lambent +fire, and who sported forever in regions of purest +ether and purest light. The Rosicrucian had anticipated +the wonder that I had practically realized.</p> + +<p>How long this worship of my strange divinity +went on thus I scarcely know. I lost all note of +time. All day from early dawn, and far into the +night, I was to be found peering through that wonderful +lens. I saw no one, went nowhere, and scarce +allowed myself sufficient time for my meals. My +whole life was absorbed in contemplation as rapt +as that of any of the Romish saints. Every hour +that I gazed upon the divine form strengthened my +passion,—a passion that was always overshadowed +by the maddening conviction that, although I could +gaze on her at will, she never, never could behold +me!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span></p> + +<p>At length I grew so pale and emaciated from want +of rest and continual brooding over my insane love +and its cruel conditions, that I determined to make +some effort to wean myself from it. “Come,” I +said, “this is at best but a fantasy. Your imagination +has bestowed on Animula charms which in reality +she does not possess. Seclusion from female society +has produced this morbid condition of mind. Compare +her with the beautiful women of your own +world, and this false enchantment will vanish.”</p> + +<p>I looked over the newspapers by chance. There +I beheld the advertisement of a celebrated <i>danseuse</i> +who appeared nightly at Niblo’s. The Signorina +Caradolce had the reputation of being the most +beautiful as well as the most graceful woman in the +world. I instantly dressed and went to the theatre.</p> + +<p>The curtain drew up. The usual semicircle of +fairies in white muslin were standing on the right +toe around the enamelled flower-bank, of green +canvas, on which the belated prince was sleeping. +Suddenly a flute is heard. The fairies start. The +trees open, the fairies all stand on the left toe, and +the queen enters. It was the Signorina. She +bounded forward amid thunders of applause, and, +lighting on one foot, remained poised in air. +Heavens! was this the great enchantress that had +drawn monarchs at her chariot-wheels? Those +heavy muscular limbs, those thick ankles, those +cavernous eyes, that stereotyped smile, those crudely +painted cheeks! Where were the vermeil blooms,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span> +the liquid expressive eyes, the harmonious limbs of +Animula?</p> + +<p>The Signorina danced. What gross, discordant +movements! The play of her limbs was all false +and artificial. Her bounds were painful athletic +efforts; her poses were angular and distressed the +eye. I could bear it no longer; with an exclamation +of disgust that drew every eye upon me, I rose from +my seat in the very middle of the Signorina’s <i>pas-de-fascination</i>, +and abruptly quitted the house.</p> + +<p>I hastened home to feast my eyes once more on +the lovely form of my sylph. I felt that henceforth +to combat this passion would be impossible. I +applied my eye to the lens. Animula was there,—but +what could have happened? Some terrible +change seemed to have taken place during my +absence. Some secret grief seemed to cloud the +lovely features of her I gazed upon. Her face had +grown thin and haggard; her limbs trailed heavily; +the wondrous lustre of her golden hair had faded. +She was ill!—ill, and I could not assist her! I believe +at that moment I would have gladly forfeited +all claims to my human birthright, if I could only +have been dwarfed to the size of an animalcule, and +permitted to console her from whom fate had forever +divided me.</p> + +<p>I racked my brain for the solution of this mystery. +What was it that afflicted the sylph? She seemed +to suffer intense pain. Her features contracted, +and she even writhed, as if with some internal +agony. The wondrous forests appeared also to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span> +have lost half their beauty. Their hues were dim +and in some places faded away altogether. I +watched Animula for hours with a breaking heart, +and she seemed absolutely to wither away under +my very eye. Suddenly I remembered that I had not +looked at the water-drop for several days. In fact, +I hated to see it; for it reminded me of the natural +barrier between Animula and myself. I hurriedly +looked down on the stage of the microscope. The +slide was still there,—but, great heavens! the water-drop +had vanished! The awful truth burst upon +me; it had evaporated; until it had become so +minute as to be invisible to the naked eye; I had +been gazing on its last atom, the one that contained +Animula,—and she was dying!</p> + +<p>I rushed again to the front of the lens, and looked +through. Alas! the last agony had seized her. +The rainbow-hued forests had all melted away, and +Animula lay struggling feebly in what seemed to be +a spot of dim light. Ah! the sight was horrible; the +limbs once so round and lovely shrivelling up into +nothings; the eyes,—those eyes that shone like +heaven—being quenched into black dust; the lustrous +golden hair now lank and discolored. The last throe +came. I beheld that final struggle of the blackening +form—and I fainted.</p> + +<p>When I awoke out of a trance of many hours, I +found myself lying amid the wreck of my instrument, +myself as shattered in mind and body as it. +I crawled feebly to my bed, from which I did not +rise for months.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> + +<p>They say now that I am mad; but they are mistaken. +I am poor, for I have neither the heart nor +the will to work; all my money is spent, and I live +on charity. Young men’s associations that love a +joke invite me to lecture on Optics before them, for +which they pay me and laugh at me while I lecture. +“Linley, the mad microscopist,” is the name I go +by. I suppose that I talk incoherently while I +lecture. Who could talk sense when his brain is +haunted by such ghastly memories, while ever and +anon among the shapes of death I behold the radiant +form of my lost Animula!</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c8">THE HORLA</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Guy de Maupassant</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap large">May 8th</span>. What a lovely day! I have spent all +the morning lying in the grass in front of my house, +under the enormous plantain tree which covers it, +and shades and shelters the whole of it. I like this +part of the country and I am fond of living here +because I am attached to it by deep roots, profound +and delicate roots which attach a man to the soil on +which his ancestors were born and died, which attach +him to what people think and what they eat, +to the usages as well as to the food, local expression, +the peculiar language of the peasants, to the smell +of the soil, of the villages and of the atmosphere +itself.</p> + +<p>I love my house in which I grew up. From my +windows I can see the Seine which flows by the side +of my garden, on the other side of the road, almost +through my grounds, the great and wide Seine which +goes to Rouen and Havre, and which is covered +with boats passing to and fro.</p> + +<p>On the left, down yonder, lies Rouen, that large +town with its blue roofs, under its pointed Gothic +towers. They are innumerable, delicate or broad, +dominated by the spire of the cathedral, and full of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span> +bells which sound through the blue air on fine mornings, +sending their sweet and distant iron clang to +me; their metallic sound which the breeze wafts in +my direction, now stronger and now weaker, according +as the wind is stronger or lighter.</p> + +<p>What a delicious morning it was!</p> + +<p>About eleven o’clock, a long line of boats drawn +by a steam tug, as big as a fly, and which scarcely +puffed while emitting its thick smoke, passed my +gate.</p> + +<p>After two English schooners, whose red flag +fluttered toward the sky, there came a magnificent +Brazilian three-master; it was perfectly white and +wonderfully clean and shining. I saluted it, I +hardly know why, except that the sight of the vessel +gave me great pleasure.</p> + +<p><i>May 12th.</i> I have had a slight feverish attack +for the last few days, and I feel ill, or rather I feel +low-spirited.</p> + +<p>Whence do these mysterious influences come, +which change our happiness into discouragement, +and our self-confidence into diffidence? One might +almost say that the air, the invisible air, is full of +unknowable Forces, whose mysterious presence we +have to endure. I wake up in the best spirits, with +an inclination to sing in my throat. Why? I go +down by the side of the water, and suddenly, after +walking a short distance, I return home wretched, +as if some misfortune were awaiting me there. +Why? Is it a cold shiver which, passing over my +skin, has upset my nerves and given me low spirits?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span> +Is it the form of the clouds, or the color of the sky, +or the color of the surrounding objects which is so +changeable, which have troubled my thoughts as +they passed before my eyes? Who can tell? +Everything that surrounds us, everything that we +see without looking at it, everything that we touch +without knowing it, everything that we handle without +feeling it, all that we meet without clearly distinguishing +it, has a rapid, surprising and inexplicable +effect upon us and upon our organs, and through +them on our ideas and on our heart itself.</p> + +<p>How profound that mystery of the Invisible is! +We cannot fathom it with our miserable senses, with +our eyes which are unable to perceive what is either +too small or too great, too near to, or too far from +us; neither the inhabitants of a star nor of a drop +of water ... with our ears that deceive us, for +they transmit to us the vibrations of the air in +sonorous notes. They are fairies who work the +miracle of changing that movement into noise, and +by that metamorphosis give birth to music, which +makes the mute agitation of nature musical ... with +our sense of smell which is smaller than that +of a dog ... with our sense of taste which can +scarcely distinguish the age of a wine!</p> + +<p>Oh! If we only had other organs which would +work other miracles in our favor, what a number of +fresh things we might discover around us!</p> + +<p><i>May 16th.</i> I am ill, decidedly! I was so well last +month! I am feverish, horribly feverish, or rather +I am in a state of feverish enervation, which makes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span> +my mind suffer as much as my body. I have without +ceasing that horrible sensation of some danger +threatening me, that apprehension of some coming +misfortune or of approaching death, that presentiment +which is, no doubt, an attack of some illness +which is still unknown, which germinates in the flesh +and in the blood.</p> + +<p><i>May 18th.</i> I have just come from consulting my +medical man, for I could no longer get any sleep. +He found that my pulse was high, my eyes dilated, +my nerves highly strung, but no alarming symptoms. +I must have a course of shower-baths and of bromide +of potassium.</p> + +<p><i>May 25th.</i> No change! My state is really very +peculiar. As the evening comes on, an incomprehensible +feeling of disquietude seizes me, just as if +night concealed some terrible menace toward me. +I dine quickly, and then try to read, but I do not +understand the words, and can scarcely distinguish +the letters. Then I walk up and down my drawing-room, +oppressed by a feeling of confused and irresistible +fear, the fear of sleep and fear of my bed.</p> + +<p>About ten o’clock I go up to my room. As soon +as I have got in I double lock, and bolt it: I am +frightened—of what? Up till the present time I +have been frightened of nothing—I open my cupboards, +and look under my bed; I listen—I listen—to +what? How strange it is that a simple feeling +of discomfort, impeded or heightened circulation, +perhaps the irritation of a nervous thread, a slight +congestion, a small disturbance in the imperfect<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span> +and delicate functions of our living machinery, can +turn the most lighthearted of men into a melancholy +one, and make a coward of the bravest! Then, I go +to bed, and I wait for sleep as a man might wait for +the executioner. I wait for its coming with dread, +and my heart beats and my legs tremble, while my +whole body shivers beneath the warmth of the bedclothes, +until the moment when I suddenly fall +asleep, as one would throw oneself into a pool of +stagnant water in order to drown oneself. I do +not feel coming over me, as I used to do formerly, +this perfidious sleep which is close to me and watching +me, which is going to seize me by the head, to +close my eyes and annihilate me.</p> + +<p>I sleep—a long time—two or three hours perhaps—then +a dream—no—a nightmare lays hold on me. +I feel that I am in bed and asleep—I feel it and I +know it—and I feel also that somebody is coming +close to me, is looking at me, touching me, is getting +on to my bed, is kneeling on my chest, is taking my +neck between his hands and squeezing it—squeezing +it with all his might in order to strangle me.</p> + +<p>I struggle, bound by that terrible powerlessness +which paralyzes us in our dreams; I try to cry out—but +I cannot; I want to move—I cannot; I try, +with the most violent efforts and out of breath, to +turn over and throw off this being which is crushing +and suffocating me—I cannot!</p> + +<p>And then, suddenly, I wake up, shaken and +bathed in perspiration; I light a candle and find that +I am alone, and after that crisis, which occurs every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span> +night, I at length fall asleep and slumber tranquilly +till morning.</p> + +<p><i>June 2d.</i> My state has grown worse. What is +the matter with me? The bromide does me no +good, and the shower-baths have no effect whatever. +Sometimes, in order to tire myself out, though I am +fatigued enough already, I go for a walk in the +forest of Roumare. I used to think at first that the +fresh light and soft air, impregnated with the odor +of herbs and leaves, would instill new blood into my +veins and impart fresh energy to my heart. I +turned into a broad ride in the wood, and then I +turned toward La Bouille, through a narrow path, +between two rows of exceedingly tall trees, which +placed a thick, green, almost black roof between the +sky and me.</p> + +<p>A sudden shiver ran through me, not a cold +shiver, but a shiver of agony, and so I hastened my +steps, uneasy at being alone in the wood, frightened +stupidly and without reason, at the profound solitude. +Suddenly it seemed to me as if I were being +followed, that somebody was walking at my heels, +close, quite close to me, near enough to touch me.</p> + +<p>I turned round suddenly, but I was alone. I +saw nothing behind me except the straight, broad +ride, empty and bordered by high trees, horribly +empty; on the other side it also extended until it +was lost in the distance, and looked just the same, +terrible.</p> + +<p>I closed my eyes. Why? And then I began to +turn round on one heel very quickly, just like a top.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span> +I nearly fell down, and opened my eyes; the trees +were dancing round me and the earth heaved; I was +obliged to sit down. Then, ah! I no longer remembered +how I had come! What a strange idea! +What a strange, strange idea! I did not the least +know. I started off to the right, and got back into +the avenue which had led me into the middle of +the forest.</p> + +<p><i>June 3d.</i> I have had a terrible night. I shall go +away for a few weeks, for no doubt a journey will +set me up again.</p> + +<p><i>July 2d.</i> I have come back, quite cured, and +have had a most delightful trip into the bargain. +I have been to Mont Saint-Michel, which I had not +seen before.</p> + +<p>What a sight, when one arrives as I did, at Avranches +toward the end of the day! The town +stands on a hill, and I was taken into the public +garden at the extremity of the town. I uttered a +cry of astonishment. An extraordinary large bay +lay extended before me, as far as my eyes could +reach, between two hills which were lost to sight in +the mist; and in the middle of this immense yellow +bay, under a clear, golden sky, a peculiar hill rose +up, sombre and pointed in the midst of the sand. +The sun had just disappeared, and under the still +flaming sky the outline of that fantastic rock stood +out, which bears on its summit a fantastic monument.</p> + +<p>At daybreak I went to it. The tide was low as it +had been the night before, and I saw that wonderful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span> +abbey rise up before me as I approached it. After +several hours’ walking, I reached the enormous mass +of rocks which supports the little town, dominated +by the great church. Having climbed the steep +and narrow street, I entered the most wonderful +Gothic building that has ever been built to God on +earth, as large as a town, full of low rooms which +seem buried beneath vaulted roofs, and lofty galleries +supported by delicate columns.</p> + +<p>I entered this gigantic granite jewel which is as +light as a bit of lace, covered with towers, with +slender belfries to which spiral staircases ascend, +and which raise their strange heads that bristle +with chimeras, with devils, with fantastic animals, +with monstrous flowers, and which are joined together +by finely carved arches, to the blue sky by +day, and to the black sky by night.</p> + +<p>When I had reached the summit, I said to the +monk who accompanied me: “Father, how happy +you must be here!” And he replied: “It is very +windy, Monsieur”; and so we began to talk while +watching the rising tide, which ran over the sand and +covered it with a steel cuirass.</p> + +<p>And then the monk told me stories, all the old +stories belonging to the place, legends, nothing but +legends.</p> + +<p>One of them struck me forcibly. The country +people, those belonging to the Mornet, declare that +at night one can hear talking going on in the sand, +and then that one hears two goats bleat, one with a +strong, the other with a weak voice. Incredulous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span> +people declare that it is nothing but the cry of the +sea birds, which occasionally resembles bleatings, +and occasionally human lamentations; but belated +fishermen swear that they have met an old shepherd, +whose head, which is covered by his cloak, they can +never see, wandering on the downs, between two +tides, round the little town placed so far out of the +world, and who is guiding and walking before them, +a he-goat with a man’s face, and a she-goat with a +woman’s face, and both of them with white hair; +and talking incessantly, quarrelling in a strange +language, and then suddenly ceasing to talk in order +to bleat with all their might.</p> + +<p>“Do you believe it?” I asked the monk. “I +scarcely know,” he replied, and I continued: “If +there are other beings besides ourselves on this +earth, how comes it that we have not known it for +so long a time, or why have you not seen them? +How is it that I have not seen them?” He replied: +“Do we see the hundred thousandth part of what +exists? Look here; there is the wind, which is the +strongest force in nature, which knocks down men, +and blows down buildings, uproots trees, raises the +sea into mountains of water; destroys cliffs and casts +great ships onto the breakers; the wind which kills, +which whistles, which sighs, which roars—have you +ever seen it, and can you see it? It exists for all +that, however.”</p> + +<p>I was silent before this simple reasoning. The +man was a philosopher, or perhaps a fool; I could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span> +not say which exactly, so I held my tongue. What +he had said, had often been in my own thoughts.</p> + +<p><i>July 3d.</i> I have slept badly; certainly there is +some feverish influence here, for my coachman is +suffering in the same way as I am. When I went +back home yesterday, I noticed his singular paleness, +and I asked him: “What is the matter with you, +Jean?” “The matter is that I never get any +rest, and my nights devour my days. Since your departure, +monsieur, there has been a spell over me.”</p> + +<p>However, the other servants are all well, but I am +very frightened of having another attack, myself.</p> + +<p><i>July 4th.</i> I am decidedly taken again; for my old +nightmares have returned. Last night I felt somebody +leaning on me who was sucking my life from +between my lips with his mouth. Yes, he was +sucking it out of my neck, like a leech would have +done. Then he got up, satiated, and I woke up, so +beaten, crushed and annihilated that I could not +move. If this continues for a few days, I shall +certainly go away again.</p> + +<p><i>July 5th.</i> Have I lost my reason? What has +happened? What I saw last night is so strange that +my head wanders when I think of it!</p> + +<p>As I do now every evening, I had locked my door, +and then, being thirsty, I drank half a glass of water, +and I accidentally noticed that the water bottle was +full up to the cut-glass stopper.</p> + +<p>Then I went to bed and fell into one of my terrible +sleeps, from which I was aroused in about two hours +by a still more terrible shock.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span></p> + +<p>Picture to yourself a sleeping man who is being +murdered and who wakes up with a knife in his +chest, and who is rattling in his throat, covered +with blood, and who can no longer breathe, and is +going to die, and does not understand anything at +all about it—there it is.</p> + +<p>Having recovered my senses, I was thirsty again, +so I lit a candle and went to the table on which my +water bottle was. I lifted it up and tilted it over my +glass, but nothing came out. It was empty! It +was completely empty! At first I could not understand +it at all, and then suddenly I was seized by +such a terrible feeling that I had to sit down, or +rather I fell into a chair! Then I sprang up with a +bound to look about me, and then I sat down again, +overcome by astonishment and fear, in front of the +transparent crystal bottle! I looked at it with +fixed eyes, trying to conjecture, and my hands +trembled! Somebody had drunk the water, but +who? I? I without any doubt. It could surely +only be I? In that case I was a somnambulist, I +lived, without knowing it, that double mysterious +life which makes us doubt whether there are not two +beings in us, or whether a strange, unknowable and +invisible being does not at such moments, when our +soul is in a state of torpor, animate our captive +body which obeys this other being, as it does us +ourselves, and more than it does ourselves.</p> + +<p>Oh! Who will understand my horrible agony? +Who will understand the emotion of a man who is +sound in mind, wide awake, full of sound sense, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span> +who looks in horror at the remains of a little water +that has disappeared while he was asleep, through +the glass of a water bottle? And I remained there +until it was daylight, without venturing to go to bed +again.</p> + +<p><i>July 6th.</i> I am going mad. Again all the contents +of my water bottle have been drunk during +the night—or rather, I have drunk it!</p> + +<p>But is it I? Is it I? Who could it be? Who? +Oh! God! Am I going mad? Who will save me?</p> + +<p><i>July 10th.</i> I have just been through some surprising ordeals. +Decidedly I am mad! And yet!—</p> + +<p>On July 6th, before going to bed, I put some +wine, milk, water, bread and strawberries on my +table. Somebody drank—I drank—all the water +and a little of the milk, but neither the wine, bread +nor the strawberries were touched.</p> + +<p>On the seventh of July I renewed the same experiment, +with the same results, and on July 8th, I left +out the water and the milk and nothing was touched.</p> + +<p>Lastly, on July 9th I put only water and milk on +my table, taking care to wrap up the bottles in +white muslin and to tie down the stoppers. Then +I rubbed my lips, my beard and my hands with +pencil lead, and went to bed.</p> + +<p>Irresistible sleep seized me, which was soon followed +by a terrible awakening. I had not moved, +and my sheets were not marked. I rushed to the +table. The muslin round the bottles remained +intact; I undid the string, trembling with fear.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span> +All the water had been drunk, and so had the milk! +Ah! Great God!—</p> + +<p>I must start for Paris immediately.</p> + +<p><i>July 12th.</i> Paris. I must have lost my head +during the last few days! I must be the plaything +of my enervated imagination, unless I am really a +somnambulist, or that I have been brought under +the power of one of those influences which have +been proved to exist, but which have hitherto been +inexplicable, which are called suggestions. In any +case, my mental state bordered on madness, and +twenty-four hours of Paris sufficed to restore me to +my equilibrium.</p> + +<p>Yesterday after doing some business and paying +some visits which instilled fresh and invigorating +mental air into me, I wound up my evening at the +<i>Théâtre Français</i>. A play by Alexandre Dumas +the Younger was being acted, and his active and +powerful mind completed my cure. Certainly +solitude is dangerous for active minds. We require +men who can think and can talk, around us. When +we are alone for a long time we people space with +phantoms.</p> + +<p>I returned along the boulevards to my hotel in +excellent spirits. Amid the jostling of the crowd I +thought, not without irony, of my terrors and surmises +of the previous week, because I believed, yes, +I believed, that an invisible being lived beneath my +roof. How weak our head is, and how quickly it is +terrified and goes astray, as soon as we are struck +by a small, incomprehensible fact.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span></p> + +<p>Instead of concluding with these simple words: +“I do not understand because the cause escapes me,” +we immediately imagine terrible mysteries and +supernatural powers.</p> + +<p><i>July 14th.</i> Fête of the Republic. I walked +through the streets, and the crackers and flags +amused me like a child. Still it is very foolish to +be merry on a fixed date, by a Government decree. +The populace is an imbecile flock of sheep, now +steadily patient, and now in ferocious revolt. Say +to it: “Amuse yourself,” and it amuses itself. +Say to it: “Go and fight with your neighbor,” +and it goes and fights. Say to it: “Vote for the +Emperor,” and it votes for the Emperor, and then +say to it: “Vote for the Republic,” and it votes for +the Republic.</p> + +<p>Those who direct it are also stupid; but instead of +obeying men they obey principles, which can only +be stupid, sterile, and false, for the very reason that +they are principles, that is to say, ideas which are +considered as certain and unchangeable, in this +world where one is certain of nothing, since light is +an illusion and noise is an illusion.</p> + +<p><i>July 16th.</i> I saw some things yesterday that +troubled me very much.</p> + +<p>I was dining at my cousin’s Madame Sablé, whose +husband is colonel of the 76th Chasseurs at Limoges. +There were two young women there, one of whom +had married a medical man, Dr. Parent, who devotes +himself a great deal to nervous diseases and +the extraordinary manifestations to which at this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span> +moment experiments in hypnotism and suggestion +give rise.</p> + +<p>He related to us at some length, the enormous +results obtained by English scientists and the +doctors of the medical school at Nancy, and the facts +which he adduced appeared to me so strange, that +I declared that I was altogether incredulous.</p> + +<p>“We are,” he declared, “on the point of discovering +one of the most important secrets of nature, +I mean to say, one of its most important secrets on +this earth, for there are certainly some which are of +a different kind of importance up in the stars, yonder. +Ever since man has thought, since he has been able +to express and write down his thoughts, he has felt +himself close to a mystery which is impenetrable +to his coarse and imperfect senses, and he endeavors +to supplement the want of power of his organs by +the efforts of his intellect. As long as that intellect +still remained in its elementary stage, this intercourse +with invisible spirits assumed forms which +were commonplace though terrifying. Thence +sprang the popular belief in the supernatural, the +legends of wandering spirits, of fairies, of gnomes, +ghosts, I might even say the legend of God, for our +conceptions of the workman-creator, from whatever +religion they may have come down to us, are certainly +the most mediocre, the stupidest and the most +unacceptable inventions that ever sprang from the +frightened brain of any human creatures. Nothing +is truer than what Voltaire says: ‘God made man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span> +in His own image, but man has certainly paid Him +back again.’</p> + +<p>“But for rather more than a century, men seem to +have had a presentiment of something new. Mesmer +and some others have put us on an unexpected +track, and especially within the last two or three +years, we have arrived at really surprising results.”</p> + +<p>My cousin, who is also very incredulous, smiled, +and Dr. Parent said to her: “Would you like me +to try and send you to sleep, Madame?” “Yes, +certainly.”</p> + +<p>She sat down in an easy-chair, and he began to +look at her fixedly, so as to fascinate her. I suddenly +felt myself somewhat uncomfortable, with a +beating heart and a choking feeling in my throat. +I saw that Madame Sablé’s eyes were growing +heavy, her mouth twitched and her bosom heaved, +and at the end of ten minutes she was asleep.</p> + +<p>“Stand behind her,” the doctor said to me, and so +I took a seat behind her. He put a visiting card +into her hands, and said to her: “This is a looking-glass; +what do you see in it?” And she replied: +“I see my cousin.” “What is he doing?” “He is +twisting his moustache.” “And now?” “He is +taking a photograph out of his pocket.” “Whose +photograph is it?” “His own.”</p> + +<p>That was true, and that photograph had been +given me that same evening at the hotel.</p> + +<p>“What is his attitude in this portrait?” “He is +standing up with his hat in his hand.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span></p> + +<p>So she saw on that card, on that piece of white +pasteboard, as if she had seen it in a looking-glass.</p> + +<p>The young women were frightened, and exclaimed: +“That is quite enough! Quite, quite +enough!”</p> + +<p>But the doctor said to her authoritatively: “You +will get up at eight o’clock to-morrow morning; then +you will go and call on your cousin at his hotel and +ask him to lend you five thousand francs which +your husband demands of you, and which he will +ask for when he sets out on his coming journey.”</p> + +<p>Then he woke her up.</p> + +<p>On returning to my hotel, I thought over this +curious <i>séance</i> and I was assailed by doubts, not as +to my cousin’s absolute and undoubted good faith, +for I had known her as well as if she had been my +own sister ever since she was a child, but as to a +possible trick on the doctor’s part. Had not he, +perhaps, kept a glass hidden in his hand, which he +showed to the young woman in her sleep, at the +same time as he did the card? Professional conjurers +do things which are just as singular.</p> + +<p>So I went home and to bed, and this morning, at +about half past eight, I was awakened by my footman, +who said to me: “Madame Sablé has asked to +see you immediately, Monsieur,” so I dressed +hastily and went to her.</p> + +<p>She sat down in some agitation, with her eyes on +the floor, and without raising her veil she said to +me: “My dear cousin, I am going to ask a great +favor of you.” “What is it, cousin?” “I do not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span> +like to tell you, and yet I must. I am in absolute +want of five thousand francs.” “What, you?” +“Yes, I, or rather my husband, who has asked me to +procure them for him.”</p> + +<p>I was so stupefied that I stammered out my answers. +I asked myself whether she had not really +been making fun of me with Doctor Parent, if it +were not merely a very well-acted farce which had +been got up beforehand. On looking at her attentively, +however, my doubts disappeared. She was +trembling with grief, so painful was this step to her, +and I was sure that her throat was full of sobs.</p> + +<p>I knew that she was very rich and so I continued: +“What! Has not your husband five thousand +francs at his disposal! Come, think. Are you sure +that he commissioned you to ask me for them?”</p> + +<p>She hesitated for a few seconds, as if she were +making a great effort to search her memory, and +then she replied: “Yes ... yes, I am quite sure +of it.” “He has written to you?”</p> + +<p>She hesitated again and reflected, and I guessed +the torture of her thoughts. She did not know. She +only knew that she was to borrow five thousand +francs of me for her husband. So she told a lie. +“Yes, he has written to me.” “When, pray? You +did not mention it to me yesterday.” “I received +his letter this morning.” “Can you show it me?” +“No; no ... no ... it contained private matters +... things too personal to ourselves.... I +burnt it.” “So your husband runs into debt?”</p> + +<p>She hesitated again, and then murmured: “I do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span> +not know.” Thereupon I said bluntly: “I have +not five thousand francs at my disposal at this moment, +my dear cousin.”</p> + +<p>She uttered a kind of cry as if she were in pain +and said: “Oh! oh! I beseech you, I beseech you +to get them for me....”</p> + +<p>She got excited and clasped her hands as if she +were praying to me! I heard her voice change its +tone; she wept and stammered, harassed and dominated +by the irresistible order that she had received.</p> + +<p>“Oh! oh! I beg you to ... if you knew what I +am suffering.... I want them to-day.”</p> + +<p>I had pity on her: “You shall have them by and +by, I swear to you.” “Oh! thank you! thank you! +How kind you are!”</p> + +<p>I continued: “Do you remember what took place +at your house last night?” “Yes.” “Do you remember +that Doctor Parent sent you to sleep?” +“Yes.” “Oh! Very well then; he ordered you to +come to me this morning to borrow five thousand +francs, and at this moment you are obeying that +suggestion.”</p> + +<p>She considered for a few moments, and then +replied: “But as it is my husband who wants +them....”</p> + +<p>For a whole hour I tried to convince her, but +could not succeed, and when she had gone I went to +the doctor. He was just going out, and he listened +to me with a smile, and said: “Do you believe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span> +now?” “Yes, I cannot help it.” “Let us go to your +cousin’s.”</p> + +<p>She was already dozing on a couch, overcome with +fatigue. The doctor felt her pulse, looked at her for +some time with one hand raised toward her eyes +which she closed by degrees under the irresistible +power of this influence, and when she was asleep, he +said:</p> + +<p>“Your husband does not require the five thousand +francs any longer! You must, therefore, forget that +you asked your cousin to lend them to you, and, if +he speaks to you about it, you will not understand +him.”</p> + +<p>Then he woke her up, and I took out a pocketbook +and said: “Here is what you asked me for this +morning, my dear cousin.” But she was so surprised +that I did not venture to persist; nevertheless, +I tried to recall the circumstance to her, but she +denied it vigorously, thought that I was making fun +of her, and in the end very nearly lost her temper.</p> + +<p class="gtb">******</p> + +<p>There! I have just come back, and I have not +been able to eat my lunch, for this experiment has +altogether upset me.</p> + +<p><i>July 19th.</i> Many people to whom I have told the +adventure have laughed at me. I no longer know +what to think. The wise man says: Perhaps?</p> + +<p><i>July 21st.</i> I dined at Bougival, and then I spent +the evening at a boatmen’s ball. Decidedly everything +depends on place and surroundings. It would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span> +be the height of folly to believe in the supernatural +on the <i>île de la Grenouillière</i><a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> ... but on the top +of Mont Saint-Michel? ... and in India? We are +terribly under the influence of our surroundings. I +shall return home next week.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> Frog Island.</p> + +</div> + +<p><i>July 30th.</i> I came back to my own house yesterday. +Everything is going on well.</p> + +<p><i>August 2d.</i> Nothing fresh; it is splendid weather, +and I spend my days in watching the Seine flow past.</p> + +<p><i>August 4th.</i> Quarrels among my servants. They +declare that the glasses are broken in the cupboards +at night. The footman accuses the cook, who accuses +the needlewoman, who accuses the other two. +Who is the culprit? A clever person, to be able to +tell.</p> + +<p><i>August 6th.</i> This time I am not mad. I have +seen ... I have seen ... I have seen!... I can +doubt no longer ... I have seen it!...</p> + +<p>I was walking at two o’clock among my rose trees, +in the full sunlight ... in the walk bordered by +autumn roses which are beginning to fall. As I +stopped to look at a <i>Géant de Bataille</i>, which had +three splendid blooms, I distinctly saw the stalks of +one of the roses bend, close to me, as if an invisible +hand had bent it, and then break, as if that hand had +picked it! Then the flower raised itself, following +the curve a hand would have described in carrying +it toward the mouth, and it remained suspended +in the transparent air, all alone and motionless, a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span> +terrible red spot, three yards from my eyes. In desperation +I rushed at it to take it! I found nothing; +it had disappeared. Then I was seized with furious +rage against myself, for it is not allowable for a +reasonable and serious man to have such hallucinations.</p> + +<p>But what is an hallucination? I turned round to +look for the stalk, and I found it immediately under +the bush, freshly broken, between two other roses +which remained on the branch, and I returned home +then, with a much disturbed mind; for I am certain +now, as certain as I am of the alternation of day +and night, that there exists close to me an invisible +being that lives on milk and on water, which can +touch objects, take them and change their places; +which is, consequently, endowed with a material nature, +although it is impossible to our senses, and +which lives as I do, under my roof....</p> + +<p><i>August 7th.</i> I slept tranquilly. He drank the +water out of my decanter, but did not disturb my +sleep.</p> + +<p>I ask myself whether I am mad. As I was walking +just now in the sun by the riverside, doubts as +to my own sanity arose in me; not vague doubts such +as I have had hitherto, but precise and absolute +doubts. I have seen mad people, and I have known +some who have been quite intelligent, lucid, even +clear-sighted in every concern of life, except on one +point. They spoke clearly, readily, profoundly, on +everything, when suddenly their thoughts struck upon +the breakers of their madness and broke to pieces<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span> +there, and were dispersed and foundered in that furious and +terrible sea, full of bounding waves, fogs and +squalls, which is called <i>madness</i>.</p> + +<p>I certainly should think that I was mad, absolutely +mad, if I were not conscious, did not perfectly know +my state, if I did fathom it by analyzing it with the +most complete lucidity. I should, in fact, be a reasonable +man who was laboring under an hallucination. +Some unknown disturbance must have been excited in +my brain, one of those disturbances which physiologists +of the present day try to note and fix precisely, +and that disturbance must have caused a profound +gulf in my mind and in the order and logic of my +ideas. Similar phenomena occur in the dreams +which lead us through the most unlikely phantasmagoria, +without causing us any surprise, because +our verifying apparatus and our sense of control +have gone to sleep, while our imaginative faculty +wakes and works. Is it not possible that one of the +imperceptible keys of the cerebral finger-board has +been paralyzed in me? Some men lose the recollection +of proper names, or of verbs, or of numbers, or +merely of dates, in consequence of the accident. The +localization of all the particles of thought have been +proved nowadays; what then would there be surprising +in the fact that my faculty controlling the uncertain +reality of my hallucinations should be destroyed +for the time being!</p> + +<p>I thought of all this as I walked by the side of +the water. The sun was shining brightly on the river +and made earth delightful, while it filled my looks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span> +with love for life, for the swallows, whose agility +is always delightful in my eyes, for the plants by the +riverside, whose rustling is a pleasure to my ears.</p> + +<p>By degrees, however, an inexplicable feeling of +discomfort seized me. It seemed to me as if some +unknown force were numbing and stopping me, were +preventing me from going farther and were calling +me back. I felt that painful wish to return which oppresses +you when you have left a beloved invalid at +home, and when you are seized by a presentiment +that he is worse.</p> + +<p>I, therefore, returned in spite of myself, feeling +certain that I should find some bad news awaiting +me, a letter or a telegram. There was nothing, however, +and I was more surprised and uneasy than if +I had had another fantastic vision.</p> + +<p><i>August 8th.</i> I spent a terrible evening yesterday. +He does not show himself any more, but I feel that +he is near me, watching me, looking at me, penetrating me, +dominating me, and more redoubtable when +he hides himself thus than if he were to manifest his +constant and invisible presence by supernatural phenomena. +However, I slept.</p> + +<p><i>August 9th.</i> Nothing; but I am afraid.</p> + +<p><i>August 10th.</i> Nothing; what will happen tomorrow?</p> + +<p><i>August 11th.</i> Still nothing; I cannot stop at home +with this fear hanging over me and these thoughts +in my mind; I shall go away.</p> + +<p><i>August 12th.</i> Ten o’clock at night. All day long +I have been trying to get away, and have not been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span> +able. I wished to accomplish this simple and easy act +of liberty—go out—get into my carriage in order +to go to Rouen—and I have not been able to do it. +What is the reason?</p> + +<p><i>August 13th.</i> When one is attacked by certain +maladies, all the springs of our physical being appear +to be broken, all our energies destroyed, all our +muscles relaxed, our bones to have become as soft +as our flesh, and our blood as liquid as water. I am +experiencing that in my moral being in a strange and +distressing manner. I have no longer any strength, +any courage, any self-control, nor even any power to +set my own will in motion. I have no power left to +<i>will</i> anything, but someone does it for me and I obey.</p> + +<p><i>August 14th.</i> I am lost! Somebody possesses my +soul and governs it! Somebody orders all my acts, +all my movements, all my thoughts. I am no longer +anything in myself, nothing except an enslaved and +terrified spectator of all the things which I do. I +wish to go out; I cannot. He does not wish to, and +so I remain, trembling and distracted, in the armchair +in which he keeps me sitting. I merely wish +to get up and to rouse myself, so as to think that I +am still master of myself: I cannot! I am riveted +to my chair, and my chair adheres to the ground in +such a manner that no force could move us.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly, I must, I must go to the bottom of +my garden to pick some strawberries and eat them, +and I go there. I pick the strawberries and I eat +them! Oh! my God! my God! Is there a God? If +there be one, deliver me! save me! succor me! Pardon!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span> +Pity! Mercy! Save me! Oh! what sufferings! +what torture! what horror!</p> + +<p><i>August 15th.</i> Certainly this is the way in which +my poor cousin was possessed and swayed, when she +came to borrow five thousand francs of me. She +was under the power of a strange will which had entered +into her, like another soul, like another parasitic +and ruling soul. Is the world coming to an end?</p> + +<p>But who is he, this invisible being that rules me? +This unknowable being, this rover of a supernatural +race?</p> + +<p>Invisible beings exist, then! How is it then that +since the beginning of the world they have never +manifested themselves in such a manner precisely +as they do to me? I have never read anything +which resembles what goes on in my house. Oh! +If I could only leave it, if I could only go away and +flee, so as never to return, I should be saved; but I +cannot.</p> + +<p><i>August 16th.</i> I managed to escape to-day for two +hours, like a prisoner who finds the door of his dungeon +accidentally open. I suddenly felt that I was +free and that he was far away, and so I gave orders +to put the horses in as quickly as possible, and I +drove to Rouen. Oh! How delightful to be able to +say to a man who obeyed you: “Go to Rouen!”</p> + +<p>I made him pull up before the library, and I +begged them to lend me Dr. Herrmann Herestauss’s +treatise on the unknown inhabitants of the ancient +and modern world.</p> + +<p>Then, as I was getting into my carriage, I intended<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span> +to say: “To the railway station!” but instead +of this I shouted—I did not say, but I shouted—in +such a loud voice that all the passers-by turned +round: “Home!” and I fell back onto the cushion +of my carriage, overcome by mental agony. He had +found me out and regained possession of me.</p> + +<p><i>August 17th.</i> Oh! What a night! what a night! +And yet it seems to me that I ought to rejoice. I +read until one o’clock in the morning! Herestauss, +Doctor of Philosophy and Theogony, wrote the history +and the manifestation of all those invisible +beings which hover around man, or of whom he +dreams. He describes their origin, their domains, +their power; but none of them resembles the one +which haunts me. One might say that man, ever +since he has thought, has had a foreboding of, and +feared a new being, stronger than himself, his successor +in this world, and that, feeling him near, and +not being able to foretell the nature of that master, +he has, in his terror, created the whole race of hidden +beings, of vague phantoms born of fear.</p> + +<p>Having, therefore, read until one o’clock in the +morning, I went and sat down at the open window, +in order to cool my forehead and my thoughts, in +the calm night air. It was very pleasant and warm! +How I should have enjoyed such a night formerly!</p> + +<p>There was no moon, but the stars darted out their +rays in the dark heavens. Who inhabits those +worlds? What forms, what living beings, what +animals are there yonder? What do those who are +thinkers in those distant worlds know more than we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span> +do? What can they do more than we can? What +do they see which we do not know? Will not one of +them, some day or other, traversing space, appear +on our earth to conquer it, just as the Norsemen +formerly crossed the sea in order to subjugate nations +more feeble than themselves?</p> + +<p>We are so weak, so unarmed, so ignorant, so +small, we who live on this particle of mud which +turns round in a drop of water.</p> + +<p>I fell asleep, dreaming this in the cool night air, +and then, having slept for about three quarters of an +hour, I opened my eyes without moving, awakened +by I know not what confused and strange sensation. +At first I saw nothing, and then suddenly it appeared +to me as if a page of a book which had remained +open on my table, turned over of its own accord. +Not a breath of air had come in at my window, and +I was surprised and waited. In about four minutes, +I saw, I saw, yes I saw with my own eyes another +page lift itself up and fall down on the others, as +if a finger had turned it over. My armchair was +empty, appeared empty, but I knew that he was +there, he, and sitting in my place, and that he was +reading. With a furious bound, the bound of an +enraged wild beast that wishes to disembowel its +tamer, I crossed my room to seize him, to strangle +him, to kill him!... But before I could reach it, +my chair fell over as if somebody had run away +from me ... my table rocked, my lamp fell and +went out, and my window closed as if some thief had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span> +been surprised and had fled out into the night, shutting +it behind him.</p> + +<p>So he had run away: he had been afraid; he, +afraid of me!</p> + +<p>So ... so ... to-morrow ... or later ... some +day or other ... I should be able to hold +him in my clutches and crush him against the ground! +Do not dogs occasionally bite and strangle their +masters?</p> + +<p><i>August 18th.</i> I have been thinking the whole day +long. Oh! yes, I will obey him, follow his impulses, +fulfill all his wishes, show myself humble, submissive, +a coward. He is the stronger; but an hour +will come....</p> + +<p><i>August 19th.</i> I know, ... I know ... I know +all! I have just read the following in the <i>Revue de +Monde Scientifique</i>: “A curious piece of news comes +to us from Rio de Janeiro. Madness, an epidemic +of madness, which may be compared to that contagious +madness which attacked the people of +Europe in the Middle Ages, is at this moment raging +in the Province of San-Paulo. The frightened +inhabitants are leaving their houses, deserting their +villages, abandoning their land, saying that they are +pursued, possessed, governed like human cattle by +invisible, though tangible beings, a species of vampire, +which feed on their life while they are asleep, +and who, besides, drink water and milk without appearing +to touch any other nourishment.</p> + +<p>“Professor Dom Pedro Henriques, accompanied +by several medical savants, has gone to the Province<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span> +of San-Paulo, in order to study the origin and the +manifestations of this surprising madness on the +spot, and to propose such measures to the Emperor +as may appear to him to be most fitted to restore the +mad population to reason.”</p> + +<p>Ah! Ah! I remember now that fine Brazilian +three-master which passed in front of my windows +as it was going up the Seine, on the 8th of last May! +I thought it looked so pretty, so white and bright! +That Being was on board of her, coming from there, +where its race sprang from. And it saw me! It saw +my house which was also white, and it sprang from +the ship onto the land. Oh! Good heavens!</p> + +<p>Now I know, I can divine. The reign of man is +over, and he has come. He whom disquieted priests +exorcised, whom sorcerers evoked on dark nights, +without yet seeing him appear, to whom the presentiments +of the transient masters of the world +lent all the monstrous or graceful forms of gnomes, +spirits, genii, fairies, and familiar spirits. After the +coarse conceptions of primitive fear, more clear-sighted +men foresaw it more clearly. Mesmer divined +him, and ten years ago physicians accurately +discovered the nature of his power, even before he +exercised it himself. They played with that weapon +of their new Lord, the sway of a mysterious will +over the human soul, which had become enslaved. +They called it magnetism, hypnotism, suggestion +... what do I know? I have seen them amusing +themselves like impudent children with this horrible +power! Woe to us! Woe to man! He has come,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span> +the ... the ... what does he call himself ... +the ... I fancy that he is shouting out his name to +me and I do not hear him ... the ... yes ... he +is shouting it out ... I am listening ... I +cannot ... repeat ... it ... Horla ... I have +heard ... the Horla ... it is he ... the Horla +... he has come!...</p> + +<p>Ah! the vulture has eaten the pigeon, the wolf has +eaten the lamb; the lion has devoured the buffalo +with sharp horns; man has killed the lion with an +arrow, with a sword, with gunpowder; but the Horla +will make of man what we have made of the horse +and of the ox: his chattel, his slave and his food, by +the mere power of his will. Woe to us!</p> + +<p>But, nevertheless, the animal sometimes revolts +and kills the man who has subjugated it.... I +should also like ... I shall be able to ... but I +must know him, touch him, see him! Learned men +say that beasts’ eyes, as they differ from ours, do +not distinguish like ours do.... And my eye cannot +distinguish this newcomer who is oppressing me.</p> + +<p>Why? Oh! Now I remember the words of the +monk at Mont Saint-Michel: “Can we see the hundred-thousandth +part of what exists? Look here; +there is the wind which is the strongest force in +nature, which knocks down men, and blows down +buildings, uproots trees, raises the sea into mountains +of water, destroys cliffs and casts great ships +onto the breakers; the wind which kills, which +whistles, which sighs, which roars—have you ever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span> +seen it, and can you see it? It exists for all that, +however!”</p> + +<p>And I went on thinking: my eyes are so weak, so +imperfect, that they do not even distinguish hard +bodies, if they are as transparent as glass!... If a +glass without tinfoil behind it were to bar my way, +I should run into it, just as a bird which has flown +into a room breaks its head against the window +panes. A thousand things, moreover, deceive him +and lead him astray. How should it then be surprising +that he cannot perceive a fresh body which is +traversed by the light?</p> + +<p>A new being! Why not? It was assuredly bound +to come! Why should we be the last? We do not +distinguish it, like all the others created before us. +The reason is, that its nature is more perfect, its +body finer and more finished than ours, that ours is +so weak, so awkwardly conceived, encumbered with +organs that are always tired, always on the strain +like locks that are too complicated, which lives like +a plant and like a beast, nourishing itself with difficulty +on air, herbs and flesh, an animal machine +which is a prey to maladies, to malformations, to +decay; broken-winded, badly regulated, simple and +eccentric, ingeniously and badly made, a coarse and +a delicate work, the outline of a being which might +become intelligent and grand.</p> + +<p>We are only a few, so few in this world, from the +oyster up to man. Why should there not be one +more, when once that period is accomplished which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span> +separates the successive apparitions from all the +different species?</p> + +<p>Why not one more? Why not, also, other trees +with immense, splendid flowers, perfuming whole +regions? Why not other elements besides fire, air, +earth and water? There are four, only four, those +nursing fathers of various beings! What a pity! +Why are they not forty, four hundred, four thousand! +How poor everything is, how mean and +wretched! grudgingly given, dryly invented, clumsily +made! Ah! the elephant and the hippopotamus, +what grace! And the camel, what elegance!</p> + +<p>But, the butterfly you will say, a flying flower! I +dream of one that should be as large as a hundred +worlds, with wings whose shape, beauty, colors, and +motion I cannot even express. But I see it ... it +flutters from star to star, refreshing them and perfuming +them with the light and harmonious breath +of its flight!... And the people up there look at +it as it passes in an ecstasy of delight!...</p> + +<p>What is the matter with me? It is he, the Horla +who haunts me, and who makes me think of these +foolish things! He is within me, he is becoming my +soul; I shall kill him!</p> + +<p><i>August 19th.</i> I shall kill him. I have seen +him! Yesterday I sat down at my table and +pretended to write very assiduously. I knew quite +well that he would come prowling round me, quite +close to me, so close that I might perhaps be able to +touch him, to seize him. And then! ... then I +should have the strength of desperation; I should<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span> +have my hands, my knees, my chest, my forehead, +my teeth to strangle him, to crush him, to bite him, +to tear him to pieces. And I watched for him with +all my over-excited organs.</p> + +<p>I had lighted my two lamps and the eight wax +candles on my mantelpiece, as if by this light I could +have discovered him.</p> + +<p>My bed, my old oak bed with its columns, was +opposite to me; on my right was the fireplace; on +my left the door which was carefully closed, after +I had left it open for some time, in order to attract +him; behind me was a very high wardrobe with a +looking-glass in it, which served me to make my +toilet every day, and in which I was in the habit of +looking at myself from head to foot every time I +passed it.</p> + +<p>So I pretended to be writing in order to deceive +him, for he also was watching me, and suddenly I +felt, I was certain that he was reading over my +shoulder, that he was there, almost touching my ear.</p> + +<p>I got up so quickly, with my hands extended, +that I almost fell. Eh! well?... It was as bright +as at midday, but I did not see myself in the glass!... +It was empty, clear, profound, full of light! +But my figure was not reflected in it ... and I, I +was opposite to it! I saw the large, clear glass from +top to bottom, and I looked at it with unsteady +eyes; and I did not dare to advance; I did not venture +to make a movement, nevertheless, feeling +perfectly that he was there, but that he would escape<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span> +me again, he whose imperceptible body had absorbed +my reflection.</p> + +<p>How frightened I was! And then suddenly I +began to see myself through a mist in the depths of +the looking-glass, in a mist as it were through a sheet +of water; and it seemed to me as if this water were +flowing slowly from left to right, and making my +figure clearer every moment. It was like the end of +an eclipse. Whatever it was that hid me, did not +appear to possess any clearly defined outlines, but a +sort of opaque transparency, which gradually grew +clearer.</p> + +<p>At last I was able to distinguish myself completely, +as I do every day when I looked at myself.</p> + +<p>I had seen it! And the horror of it remained with +me and makes me shudder even now.</p> + +<p><i>August 20th.</i> How could I kill it, as I could not +get hold of it? Poison? But it would see me mix +it with the water; and then, would our poisons have +any effect on its impalpable body? No ... no +... no doubt about the matter.... Then?... +then?...</p> + +<p><i>August 21st.</i> I sent for a blacksmith from +Rouen, and ordered iron shutters of him for my +room, such as some private hotels in Paris have on +the ground floor, for fear of thieves, and he is going +to make me a similar door as well. I have made +myself out as a coward, but I do not care about +that!...</p> + +<p><i>September 10th.</i> Rouen, Hotel Continental. It<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> +is done; ... it is done ... but is he dead? My +mind is thoroughly upset by what I have seen.</p> + +<p>Well, then, yesterday the locksmith having put +on the iron shutters and door, I left everything open +until midnight, although it was getting cold.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I felt that he was there, and joy, mad +joy, took possession of me. I got up softly, and I +walked to the right and left for some time, so that +he might not guess anything; then I took off my +boots and put on my slippers carelessly; then I +fastened the iron shutters and going back to the +door quickly I double-locked it with a padlock, +putting the key into my pocket.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I noticed that he was moving restlessly +round me, that in his turn he was frightened and +was ordering me to let him out. I nearly yielded, +though I did not yet, but putting my back to the +door I half opened it, just enough to allow me to go +out backward, and as I am very tall, my head +touched the lintel. I was sure that he had not +been able to escape, and I shut him up quite alone, +quite alone. What happiness! I had him fast. +Then I ran downstairs; in the drawing-room, which +was under my bedroom, I took the two lamps and +I poured all the oil onto the carpet, the furniture, +everywhere; then I set fire to it and made my escape, +after having carefully double-locked the door.</p> + +<p>I went and hid myself at the bottom of the garden +in a clump of laurel bushes. How long it was! +how long it was! Everything was dark, silent, +motionless, not a breath of air and not a star, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span> +heavy banks of clouds which one could not see, but +which weighed, oh! so heavily on my soul.</p> + +<p>I looked at my house and waited. How long it +was! I already began to think that the fire had +gone out of its own accord, or that he had extinguished +it, when one of the lower windows gave way +under the violence of the flames, and a long, soft, +caressing sheet of red flame mounted up the white +wall and kissed it as high as the roof. The light +fell onto the trees, the branches, and the leaves, +and a shiver of fear pervaded them also! The birds +awoke; a dog began to howl, and it seemed to me as +if the day were breaking! Almost immediately +two other windows flew into fragments, and I saw +that the whole of the lower part of my house was +nothing but a terrible furnace. But a cry, a horrible, +shrill, heartrending cry, a woman’s cry, sounded +through the night, and two garret windows were +opened! I had forgotten the servants! I saw the +terrorstruck faces, and their frantically waving +arms!...</p> + +<p>Then, overwhelmed with horror, I set off to +run to the village, shouting: “Help! help! fire! +fire!” I met some people who were already coming +onto the scene, and I went back with them to see!</p> + +<p>By this time the house was nothing but a horrible +and magnificent funeral pile, a monstrous funeral +pile which lit up the whole country, a funeral pile +where men were burning, and where he was burning +also, He, He, my prisoner, that new Being, the new +master, the Horla!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span></p> + +<p>Suddenly the whole roof fell in between the walls, +and a volcano of flames darted up to the sky. +Through all the windows which opened onto that +furnace I saw the flames darting, and I thought +that he was there, in that kiln, dead.</p> + +<p>Dead? perhaps?... His body? Was not his +body, which was transparent, indestructible by such +means as would kill ours?</p> + +<p>If he was not dead?... Perhaps time alone has +power over that Invisible and Redoubtable Being. +Why this transparent, unrecognizable body, this +body belonging to a spirit, if it also had to fear ills, +infirmities and premature destruction?</p> + +<p>Premature destruction? All human terror springs +from that! After man the Horla. After him who +can die every day, at any hour, at any moment, by +any accident, he came who was only to die at his +own proper hour and minute, because he had touched +the limits of his existence!</p> + +<p>No ... no ... without any doubt ... he is +not dead. Then ... then ... I suppose I must +kill myself!</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Editor’s Note.</span> Students of this great genius among +short story writers contend that there is an autobiographical +touch to “The Horla.” De Maupassant had a haunting presentiment +of going mad.]</p> +</div> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c9">THE MUMMY’S FOOT</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Théophile Gautier</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap large">I had</span> entered, in an idle mood, the shop of one of +those curiosity venders who are called <i>marchands de +bric-à-brac</i> in that Parisian <i>argot</i> which is so perfectly +unintelligble elsewhere in France.</p> + +<p>You have doubtless glanced occasionally through +the windows of some of these shops, which have become +so numerous now that it is fashionable to buy +antiquated furniture, and that every petty stock +broker thinks he must have his <i>chambre au moyen +âge</i>.</p> + +<p>There is one thing there which clings alike to the +shop of the dealer in old iron, the ware-room of the +tapestry maker, the laboratory of the chemist, and +the studio of the painter: in all those gloomy dens +where a furtive daylight filters in through the window-shutters +the most manifestly ancient thing is +dust. The cobwebs are more authentic than the +guimp laces, and the old pear-tree furniture on exhibition +is actually younger than the mahogany +which arrived but yesterday from America.</p> + +<p>The warehouse of my bric-à-brac dealer was a +veritable Capharnaum. All ages and all nations +seemed to have made their rendezvous there. An<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span> +Etruscan lamp of red clay stood upon a Boule cabinet, +with ebony panels, brightly striped by lines of +inlaid brass; a duchess of the court of Louis XV. +nonchalantly extended her fawn-like feet under a +massive table of the time of Louis XIII., with +heavy spiral supports of oak, and carven designs of +chimeras and foliage intermingled.</p> + +<p>Upon the denticulated shelves of several sideboards +glittered immense Japanese dishes with red +and blue designs relieved by gilded hatching, side +by side with enamelled works by Bernard Palissy, +representing serpents, frogs, and lizards in relief.</p> + +<p>From disembowelled cabinets escaped cascades of +silver-lustrous Chinese silks and waves of tinsels +which an oblique sunbeam shot through with luminous +beads; while portraits of every era, in frames +more or less tarnished, smiled through their yellow +varnish.</p> + +<p>The striped breastplate of a damascened suit of +Milanese armor glittered in one corner; loves and +nymphs of porcelain, Chinese grotesques, vases of +<i>céladon</i> and crackle-ware, Saxon and old Sèvres cups +encumbered the shelves and nooks of the apartment.</p> + +<p>The dealer followed me closely through the tortuous +way contrived between the piles of furniture, +warding off with his hand the hazardous sweep of +my coat-skirts, watching my elbows with the uneasy +attention of an antiquarian and a usurer.</p> + +<p>It was a singular face, that of the merchant; an +immense skull, polished like a knee, and surrounded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span> +by a thin aureole of white hair, which brought out +the clear salmon tint of his complexion all the more +strikingly, lent him a false aspect of patriarchal +<i>bonhomie</i>, counteracted, however, by the scintillation +of two little yellow eyes which trembled in their +orbits like two louis d’or upon quicksilver. The +curve of his nose presented an aquiline silhouette, +which suggested the Oriental or Jewish type. His +hands—thin, slender, full of nerves which projected +like strings upon the finger-board of a violin, and +armed with claws like those on the terminations of +bats’ wings—shook with senile trembling; but those +convulsively agitated hands became firmer than steel +pincers or lobsters’ claws when they lifted any precious +article—an onyx cup, a Venetian glass, or a +dish of Bohemian crystal. This strange old man had +an aspect so thoroughly rabbinical and cabalistic +that he would have been burnt on the mere testimony +of his face three centuries ago.</p> + +<p>“Will you not buy something from me to-day, +sir? Here is a Malay kreese with a blade undulating +like flame. Look at those grooves contrived for the +blood to run along, those teeth set backward so as +to tear out the entrails in withdrawing the weapon. +It is a fine character of ferocious arm, and will look +well in your collection. This two-handed sword is +very beautiful. It is the work of Josepe de la Hera; +and this <i>colichemarde</i>, with its fenestrated guard—what +a superb specimen of handicraft!”</p> + +<p>“No; I have quite enough weapons and instruments +of carnage. I want a small figure, something<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span> +which will suit me as a paper-weight, for I cannot +endure those trumpery bronzes which the stationers +sell, and which may be found on everybody’s desk.”</p> + +<p>The old gnome foraged among his ancient wares, +and finally arranged before me some antique +bronzes, so-called at least; fragments of malachite, +little Hindoo or Chinese idols, a kind of poussah-toys +in jade-stone, representing the incarnations of +Brahma or Vishnoo, and wonderfully appropriate +to the very undivine office of holding papers and +letters in place.</p> + +<p>I was hesitating between a porcelain dragon, all +constellated with warts, its mouth formidable with +bristling tusks and ranges of teeth, and an abominable +little Mexican fetich, representing the god +Vitziliputzili <i>au naturel</i>, when I caught sight of a +charming foot, which I at first took for a fragment +of some antique Venus.</p> + +<p>It had those beautiful ruddy and tawny tints that +lend to Florentine bronze that warm living look so +much preferable to the gray-green aspect of common +bronzes, which might easily be mistaken for statues +in a state of putrefaction. Satiny gleams played +over its rounded forms, doubtless polished by the +amorous kisses of twenty centuries, for it seemed a +Corinthian bronze, a work of the best era of art, +perhaps molded by Lysippus himself.</p> + +<p>“That foot will be my choice,” I said to the merchant, +who regarded me with an ironical and saturnine +air, and held out the object desired that I might +examine it more fully.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span></p> + +<p>I was surprised at its lightness. It was not a foot +of metal, but in sooth a foot of flesh, an embalmed +foot, a mummy’s foot. On examining it still more +closely the very grain of the skin, and the almost imperceptible +lines impressed upon it by the texture of +the bandages, became perceptible. The toes were +slender and delicate, and terminated by perfectly +formed nails, pure and transparent as agates. The +great toe, slightly separated from the rest, afforded +a happy contrast, in the antique style, to the position +of the other toes, and lent it an aërial lightness—the +grace of a bird’s foot. The sole, scarcely streaked +by a few almost imperceptible cross lines, afforded +evidence that it had never touched the bare ground, +and had only come in contact with the finest matting +of Nile rushes and the softest carpets of panther +skin.</p> + +<p>“Ha, ha, you want the foot of the Princess Hermonthis!” +exclaimed the merchant, with a strange +giggle, fixing his owlish eyes upon me. “Ha, ha, ha! +For a paper-weight! An original idea!—an artistic +idea! Old Pharaoh would certainly have been surprised +had some one told him that the foot of his +adored daughter would be used for a paper-weight +after he had had a mountain of granite hollowed +out as a receptacle for the triple coffin, painted and +gilded, covered with hieroglyphics and beautiful +paintings of the Judgment of Souls,” continued the +queer little merchant, half audibly, as though talking +to himself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span></p> + +<p>“How much will you charge me for this mummy +fragment?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, the highest price I can get, for it is a superb +piece. If I had the match of it you could not have it +for less than five hundred francs. The daughter of +a Pharaoh! Nothing is more rare.”</p> + +<p>“Assuredly that is not a common article, but still, +how much do you want? In the first place let me +warn you that all my wealth consists of just five louis. +I can buy anything that costs five louis, but nothing +dearer. You might search my vest pockets and most +secret drawers without even finding one poor five-franc +piece more.”</p> + +<p>“Five louis for the foot of the Princess Hermonthis! +That is very little, very little indeed. ’Tis +an authentic foot,” muttered the merchant, shaking +his head, and imparting a peculiar rotary motion to +his eyes. “Well, take it, and I will give you the bandages +into the bargain,” he added, wrapping the +foot in an ancient damask rag. “Very fine! Real +damask—Indian damask which has never been re-dyed. +It is strong, and yet it is soft,” he mumbled, +stroking the frayed tissue with his fingers, through +the trade-acquired habit which moved him to praise +even an object of such little value that he himself +deemed it only worth the giving away.</p> + +<p>He poured the gold coins into a sort of mediæval +alms-purse hanging at his belt, repeating:</p> + +<p>“The foot of the Princess Hermonthis to be used +for a paper-weight!”</p> + +<p>Then turning his phosphorescent eyes upon me,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span> +he exclaimed in a voice strident as the crying of a +cat which has swallowed a fish-bone:</p> + +<p>“Old Pharaoh will not be well pleased. He loved +his daughter, the dear man!”</p> + +<p>“You speak as if you were a contemporary of his. +You are old enough, goodness knows! but you do not +date back to the Pyramids of Egypt,” I answered, +laughingly, from the threshold.</p> + +<p>I went home, delighted with my acquisition.</p> + +<p>With the idea of putting it to profitable use as +soon as possible, I placed the foot of the divine +Princess Hermonthis upon a heap of papers scribbled +over with verses, in themselves an undecipherable +mosaic work of erasures; articles freshly begun; letters +forgotten, and posted in the table drawer in +stead of the letter-box, an error to which absent-minded +people are peculiarly liable. The effect was +charming, <i>bizarre</i>, and romantic.</p> + +<p>Well satisfied with this embellishment, I went out +with the gravity and pride becoming one who feels +that he has the ineffable advantage over all the passers-by +whom he elbows, of possessing a piece of the +Princess Hermonthis, daughter of Pharaoh.</p> + +<p>I looked upon all who did not possess, like myself, +a paper-weight so authentically Egyptian as very +ridiculous people, and it seemed to me that the +proper occupation of every sensible man should consist +in the mere fact of having a mummy’s foot upon +his desk.</p> + +<p>Happily I met some friends, whose presence distracted +me in my infatuation with this new acquisition.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span> +I went to dinner with them, for I could not +very well have dined with myself.</p> + +<p>When I came back that evening, with my brain +slightly confused by a few glasses of wine, a vague +whiff of Oriental perfume delicately titillated my +olfactory nerves. The heat of the room had +warmed the natron, bitumen, and myrrh in which +the <i>paraschistes</i>, who cut open the bodies of the +dead, had bathed the corpse of the princess. It was +a perfume at once sweet and penetrating, a perfume +that four thousand years had not been able to dissipate.</p> + +<p>The Dream of Egypt was Eternity. Her odors +have the solidity of granite and endure as long.</p> + +<p>I soon drank deeply from the black cup of sleep. +For a few hours all remained opaque to me. Oblivion +and nothingness inundated me with their sombre +waves.</p> + +<p>Yet light gradually dawned upon the darkness of +my mind. Dreams commenced to touch me softly +in their silent flight.</p> + +<p>The eyes of my soul were opened, and I beheld +my chamber as it actually was. I might have believed +myself awake but for a vague consciousness +which assured me that I slept, and that something +fantastic was about to take place.</p> + +<p>The odor of the myrrh had augmented in intensity, +and I felt a slight headache, which I very naturally +attributed to several glasses of champagne +that we had drunk to the unknown gods and our +future fortunes.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span> +I peered through my room with a feeling of expectation +which I saw nothing to justify. Every +article of furniture was in its proper place. The +lamp, softly shaded by its globe of ground crystal, +burned upon its bracket; the water-color sketches +shone under their Bohemian glass; the curtains +hung down languidly; everything wore an aspect of +tranquil slumber.</p> + +<p>After a few moments, however, all this calm interior +appeared to become disturbed. The woodwork +cracked stealthily, the ash-covered log suddenly +emitted a jet of blue flame, and the disks of the pateras +seemed like great metallic eyes, watching, like +myself, for the things which were about to happen.</p> + +<p>My eyes accidentally fell upon the desk where I +had placed the foot of the Princess Hermonthis.</p> + +<p>Instead of remaining quiet, as behooved a foot +which had been embalmed for four thousand years, +it commenced to act in a nervous manner, contracted +itself, and leaped over the papers like a startled +frog. One would have imagined that it had suddenly +been brought into contact with a galvanic battery. I +could distinctly hear the dry sound made by its little +heel, hard as the hoof of a gazelle.</p> + +<p>I became rather discontented with my acquisition, +inasmuch as I wished my paper-weights to be of a +sedentary disposition, and thought it very unnatural +that feet should walk about without legs, then I +commenced to experience a feeling closely akin to +fear.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I saw the folds of my bed-curtain stir,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span> +and heard a bumping sound, like that caused by +some person hopping on one foot across the floor. I +must confess I became alternately hot and cold, that +I felt a strange wind chill my back, and that my +suddenly rising hair caused my night-cap to execute +a leap of several yards.</p> + +<p>The bed-curtains opened and I beheld the strangest +figure imaginable before me.</p> + +<p>It was a young girl of a very deep coffee-brown +complexion, like the bayadere Amani, and possessing +the purest Egyptian type of perfect beauty. Her +eyes were almond-shaped and oblique, with eyebrows +so black that they seemed blue; her nose was exquisitely +chiselled, almost Greek in its delicacy of +outline; and she might indeed have been taken for a +Corinthian statue of bronze but for the prominence +of her cheek-bones and the slightly African fulness of +her lips, which compelled one to recognize her as belonging +beyond all doubt to the hieroglyphic race +which dwelt upon the banks of the Nile.</p> + +<p>Her arms, slender and spindle-shaped like those +of very young girls, were encircled by a peculiar kind +of metal bands and bracelets of glass beads; her hair +was all twisted into little cords, and she wore upon +her bosom a little idol-figure of green paste, bearing +a whip with seven lashes, which proved it to be an +image of Isis; her brow was adorned with a shining +plate of gold, and a few traces of paint relieved the +coppery tint of her cheeks.</p> + +<p>As for her costume, it was very odd indeed.</p> + +<p>Fancy a <i>pagne</i>, or skirt, all formed of little strips<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span> +of material bedizened with red and black hieroglyphics, +stiffened with bitumen, and apparently belonging +to a freshly unbandaged mummy.</p> + +<p>In one of those sudden flights of thought so common +in dreams I heard the hoarse falsetto of the +bric-à-brac dealer, repeating like a monotonous refrain +the phrase he had uttered in his shop with so +enigmatical an intonation:</p> + +<p>“Old Pharaoh will not be well pleased. He loved +his daughter, the dear man!”</p> + +<p>One strange circumstance, which was not at all +calculated to restore my equanimity, was that the +apparition had but one foot; the other was broken +off at the ankle!</p> + +<p>She approached the table where the foot lay, +starting and fidgetting about more than ever, and +there supported herself upon the edge of the desk. +I saw her eyes fill with pearly gleaming tears.</p> + +<p>Although she had not as yet spoken, I fully comprehended +the thoughts which agitated her. She +looked at her foot—for it was indeed her own—with +an exquisitely graceful expression of coquettish sadness, +but the foot leaped and ran hither and thither, +as though impelled on steel springs.</p> + +<p>Twice or thrice she extended her hand to seize it, +but could not succeed.</p> + +<p>Then commenced between the Princess Hermonthis +and her foot—which appeared to be endowed +with a special life of its own—a very fantastic dialogue +in a most ancient Coptic tongue, such as might +have been spoken thirty centuries ago by the sphinxes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span> +of the land of Ser. Luckily I understood Coptic +perfectly well that night.</p> + +<p>The Princess Hermonthis cried, in a voice sweet +and vibrant as the tones of a crystal bell:</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear little foot, you always flee from +me, yet I always took good care of you. I bathed +you with perfumed water in a bowl of alabaster; I +smoothed your heel with pumice-stone mixed with +palm oil; your nails were cut with golden scissors +and polished with a hippopotamus tooth; I was careful +to select <i>tatbebs</i> for you, painted and embroidered +and turned up at the toes, which were the envy +of all the young girls in Egypt. You wore on your +great toe rings bearing the device of the sacred Scarabæus, +and you supported one of the lightest bodies +that a lazy foot could sustain.”</p> + +<p>The foot replied in a pouting and chagrined tone:</p> + +<p>“You know well that I do not belong to myself +any longer. I have been bought and paid for. The +old merchant knew what he was about. He bore you +a grudge for having refused to espouse him. This is +an ill turn which he has done you. The Arab who +violated your royal coffin in the subterranean pits +of the necropolis of Thebes was sent thither by him. +He desired to prevent you from being present at the +reunion of the shadowy nations in the cities below. +Have you five pieces of gold for my ransom?”</p> + +<p>“Alas, no! My jewels, my rings, my purses of +gold and silver were all stolen from me,” answered +the Princess Hermonthis, with a sob.</p> + +<p>“Princess,” I then exclaimed, “I never retained<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span> +anybody’s foot unjustly. Even though you have not +got the five louis which it cost me, I present it to you +gladly. I should feel unutterably wretched to think +that I were the cause of so amiable a person as the +Princess Hermonthis being lame.”</p> + +<p>I delivered this discourse in a royally gallant, +troubadour tone which must have astonished the +beautiful Egyptian girl.</p> + +<p>She turned a look of deepest gratitude upon me, +and her eyes shone with bluish gleams of light.</p> + +<p>She took her foot, which surrendered itself willingly +this time, like a woman about to put on her +little shoe, and adjusted it to her leg with much skill.</p> + +<p>This operation over, she took a few steps about +the room, as though to assure herself that she was +really no longer lame.</p> + +<p>“Ah, how pleased my father will be! He who +was so unhappy because of my mutilation, and who +from the moment of my birth set a whole nation at +work to hollow me out a tomb so deep that he might +preserve me intact until that last day, when souls +must be weighed in the balance of Amenthi! Come +with me to my father. He will receive you kindly, +for you have given me back my foot.”</p> + +<p>I thought this proposition natural enough. I arrayed +myself in a dressing-gown of large-flowered +pattern, which lent me a very Pharaonic aspect, +hurriedly put on a pair of Turkish slippers, and informed +the Princess Hermonthis that I was ready to +follow her.</p> + +<p>Before starting, Hermonthis took from her neck<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span> +the little idol of green paste, and laid it on the +scattered sheets of paper which covered the table.</p> + +<p>“It is only fair,” she observed, smilingly, “that I +should replace your paper-weight.”</p> + +<p>She gave me her hand, which felt soft and cold, +like the skin of a serpent, and we departed.</p> + +<p>We passed for some time with the velocity of an +arrow through a fluid and grayish expanse, in which +half-formed silhouettes flitted swiftly by us, to right +and left.</p> + +<p>For an instant we saw only sky and sea.</p> + +<p>A few moments later obelisks commenced to +tower in the distance; pylons and vast flights of steps +guarded by sphinxes became clearly outlined against +the horizon.</p> + +<p>We had reached our destination.</p> + +<p>The princess conducted me to a mountain of rose-colored +granite, in the face of which appeared an +opening so narrow and low that it would have been +difficult to distinguish it from the fissures in the +rock, had not its location been marked by two stelæ +wrought with sculptures.</p> + +<p>Hermonthis kindled a torch and led the way before +me.</p> + +<p>We traversed corridors hewn through the living +rock. These walls covered with hieroglyphics and +paintings of allegorical processions, might well have +occupied thousands of arms for thousands of years +in their formation. These corridors of interminable +length opened into square chambers, in the midst of +which pits had been contrived, through which we descended<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span> +by cramp-irons or spiral stairways. These +pits again conducted us into other chambers, opening +into other corridors, likewise decorated with +painted sparrow-hawks, serpents coiled in circles, +the symbols of the <i>tau</i> and <i>pedum</i>—prodigious works +of art which no living eye can ever examine—interminable +legends of granite which only the dead have +time to read through all eternity.</p> + +<p>At last we found ourselves in a hall so vast, so +enormous, so immeasurable, that the eye could not +reach its limits. Files of monstrous columns +stretched far out of sight on every side, between +which twinkled livid stars of yellowish flame; points +of light which revealed further depths incalculable +in the darkness beyond.</p> + +<p>The Princess Hermonthis still held my hand, and +graciously saluted the mummies of her acquaintance.</p> + +<p>My eyes became accustomed to the dim twilight, +and objects became discernible.</p> + +<p>I beheld the kings of the subterranean races seated +upon thrones—grand old men, though dry, withered, +wrinkled like parchment, and blackened with +naphtha and bitumen—all wearing <i>pshents</i> of gold, +and breast-plates and gorgets glittering with precious +stones, their eyes immovably fixed like the eyes of +sphinxes, and their long beards whitened by the snow +of centuries. Behind them stood their peoples, in +the stiff and constrained posture enjoined by Egyptian +art, all eternally preserving the attitude prescribed +by the hieratic code. Behind these nations,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span> +the cats, ibixes, and crocodiles, contemporary with +them—rendered monstrous of aspect by their swathing +bands—mewed, flapped their wings, or extended +their jaws in a saurian giggle.</p> + +<p>All the Pharaohs were there—Cheops, Chephrenes, +Psammetichus, Sesostris, Amenotaph—all the +dark rulers of the pyramids and sphinxes. On yet +higher thrones sat Chronos and Xixouthros, who +was contemporary with the deluge, and Tubal Cain, +who reigned before it.</p> + +<p>The beard of King Xixouthros had grown seven +times around the granite table, upon which he leaned, +lost in deep reverie, and buried in dreams.</p> + +<p>Farther back, through a dusty cloud, I beheld +dimly the seventy-two pre-adamite kings, with their +seventy-two peoples, forever passed away.</p> + +<p>After permitting me to gaze upon this bewildering +spectacle a few moments, the Princess Hermonthis +presented me to her father Pharaoh, who favored +me with a most gracious nod.</p> + +<p>“I have found my foot again! I have found my +foot!” cried the princess, clapping her little hands +together with every sign of frantic joy. “It was this +gentleman who restored it to me.”</p> + +<p>The races of Kemi, the races of Nahasi—all the +black, bronzed, and copper-colored nations repeated +in chorus:</p> + +<p>“The Princess Hermonthis has found her foot +again!”</p> + +<p>Even Xixouthros himself was visibly affected.</p> + +<p>He raised his heavy eyelids, stroked his moustache<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span> +with his fingers, and turned upon me a glance weighty +with centuries.</p> + +<p>“By Oms, the dog of Hell, and Tmei, daughter of +the Sun and of Truth, this is a brave and worthy +lad!” exclaimed Pharaoh, pointing to me with his +sceptre, which was terminated with a lotus-flower. +“What recompense do you desire?”</p> + +<p>Filled with that daring inspired by dreams in +which nothing seems impossible, I asked him for the +hand of the Princess Hermonthis. The hand seemed +to me a very proper antithetic recompense for the +foot.</p> + +<p>Pharaoh opened wide his great eyes of glass in +astonishment at my witty request.</p> + +<p>“What country do you come from, what is your +age?”</p> + +<p>“I am a Frenchman, and I am twenty-seven years +old, venerable Pharaoh.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty-seven years old, and he wishes to espouse +the Princess Hermonthis who is thirty centuries +old!” cried out at once all the Thrones and all the +Circles of Nations.</p> + +<p>Only Hermonthis herself did not seem to think +my request unreasonable.</p> + +<p>“If you were even two thousand years old,” +replied the ancient king, “I would willingly give you +the princess, but the disproportion is too great; and, +besides, we must give our daughters husbands who +will last well. You do not know how to preserve +yourselves any longer. Even those who died only +fifteen centuries ago are already no more than a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span> +handful of dust. Behold, my flesh is solid as basalt, +my bones are bones of steel!</p> + +<p>“I will be present on the last day of the world with +the same body and the same features which I had +during my lifetime. My daughter Hermonthis will +last longer than a statue of bronze.</p> + +<p>“Then the last particles of your dust will have +been scattered abroad by the winds, and even +Isis herself, who was able to find the atoms of +Osiris, would scarce be able to recompense your +being.</p> + +<p>“See how vigorous I yet remain, and how mighty +is my grasp,” he added, shaking my hand in the +English fashion with a strength that buried my rings +in the flesh of my fingers.</p> + +<p>He squeezed me so hard that I awoke, and found +my friend Alfred shaking me by the arm to make me +get up.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you everlasting sleeper! Must I have you +carried out into the middle of the street, and fireworks +exploded in your ears? It is afternoon. +Don’t you recollect your promise to take me with +you to see M. Aguado’s Spanish pictures?”</p> + +<p>“God! I forgot all, all about it,” I answered, +dressing myself hurriedly. “We will go there at +once. I have the permit lying there on my desk.”</p> + +<p>I started to find it, but fancy my astonishment +when I beheld, instead of the mummy’s foot I had +purchased the evening before, the little green paste +idol left in its place by the Princess Hermonthis!</p> +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="c10">THE THIEF</h2> +</div> + +<p class="c large">By <span class="smcap">Anna Katharine Green</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>By permission of the author. From “Masterpieces of Mystery,” +by Anna Katharine Green, copyright 1913, by Dodd, +Mead & Co.</p></div> + + +<p>“And now, if you have all seen the coin and sufficiently +admired it, you may pass it back. I make a +point of never leaving it off the shelf for more than +fifteen minutes.”</p> + +<p>The half-dozen or more guests seated about the +board of the genial speaker, glanced casually at each +other as though expecting to see the object mentioned +immediately produced.</p> + +<p>But no coin appeared.</p> + +<p>“I have other amusements waiting,” suggested +their host, with a smile in which even his wife could +detect no signs of impatience. “Now let Robert +put it back into the cabinet.”</p> + +<p>Robert was the butler.</p> + +<p>Blank looks, negative gestures, but still no coin.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is in somebody’s lap,” timidly ventured +one of the younger women. “It doesn’t seem +to be on the table.”</p> + +<p>Immediately all the ladies began lifting their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span> +napkins and shaking out the gloves which lay under +them, in an effort to relieve their own embarrassment +and that of the gentlemen who had not even so +simple a resource as this at their command.</p> + +<p>“It can’t be lost,” protested Mr. Sedgwick, with +an air of perfect confidence. “I saw it but a minute +ago in somebody’s hand. Darrow, you had it; what +did you do with it?”</p> + +<p>“Passed it along.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, it must be under somebody’s plate or +doily.” And he began to move about his own and +such dishes as were within reach of his hand.</p> + +<p>Each guest imitated him, lifting glasses and turning +over spoons till Mr. Sedgwick himself bade them +desist. “It’s slipped to the floor,” he nonchalantly +concluded. “A toast to the ladies, and we will give +Robert the chance of looking for it.”</p> + +<p>As they drank this toast, his apparently careless, +but quietly astute, glance took in each countenance +about him. The coin was very valuable and its loss +would be keenly felt by him. Had it slipped from +the table some one’s eye would have perceived it, +some hand would have followed it. Only a minute +or two before, the attention of the whole party had +been concentrated upon it. Darrow had held it up +for all to see, while he discoursed upon its history. +He would take Darrow aside at the first opportunity +and ask him—But—ah! how could he do that? +These were his intimate friends. He knew them +well, more than well, with one exception, and he—Well, +he was the handsomest of the lot and the most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span> +debonair and agreeable. A little more gay than +usual to-night, possibly a trifle too gay, considering +that a man of Mr. Blake’s social weight and business +standing sat at the board; but not to be suspected, +no, not to be suspected, even if he was the +next man after Darrow and had betrayed something +like confusion when the eyes of the whole table +turned his way at the former’s simple statement of +“I passed it on.” Robert would find the coin; he +was a fool to doubt it; and if Robert did not, why, +he would simply have to pocket his chagrin, and not +let a triviality like this throw a shadow over his +hospitality.</p> + +<p>All this, while he genially lifted his glass and proposed +the health of the ladies. The constraint of +the preceding moment was removed by his manner, +and a dozen jests caused as many merry laughs. +Then he pushed back his chair.</p> + +<p>“And now, some music!” he cheerfully cried, as +with lingering glances and some further pokings +about of the table furniture, the various guests left +their places and followed him into the adjoining +room.</p> + +<p>But the ladies were too nervous and the gentlemen +not sufficiently sure of their voices to undertake +the entertainment of the rest at a moment of such +acknowledged suspense; and notwithstanding the +exertions of their host and his quiet but much discomfited +wife, it soon became apparent that but one +thought engrossed them all, and that any attempt at +conversation must prove futile so long as the curtains<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span> +between the two rooms remained open and they +could see Robert on his hands and knees searching +the floor and shoving aside the rugs.</p> + +<p>Darrow, who was Mr. Sedgwick’s brother-in-law +and almost as much at home in the house as Sedgwick +himself, made a move to draw these curtains, +but something in his relative’s face stopped him and +he desisted with some laughing remark which did +not attract enough attention, even, to elicit any response.</p> + +<p>“I hope his eyesight is good,” murmured one of +the young girls, edging a trifle forward. “Mayn’t +I help him look? They say at home that I am the +only one in the house who can find anything.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Sedgwick smiled indulgently at the speaker +(a round-faced, round-eyed, merry-hearted girl +whom in days gone by he had dandled on his knees) +but answered quite quickly for him:</p> + +<p>“Robert will find it if it is there.” Then, distressed +at this involuntary disclosure of his thought, +added in his wholehearted way: “It’s such a little +thing, and the room is so big, and a round object +rolls unexpectedly far, you know. Well, have you +got it?” he eagerly demanded, as the butler finally +showed himself in the door.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; and it’s not in the dining-room. I have +cleared the table and thoroughly searched the floor.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Sedgwick knew that he had. He had no +doubts about Robert. Robert had been in his employ +for years and had often handled his coins and, +at his order, sometimes shown them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span></p> + +<p>“Very well,” said he, “we’ll not bother about it +any more to-night; you may draw the curtains.”</p> + +<p>But here the clear, almost strident voice of the +youngest man of the party interposed.</p> + +<p>“Wait a minute,” said he. “This especial coin +is the great treasure of Mr. Sedgwick’s valuable collection. +It is unique in this country, and not only +worth a great deal of money, but cannot be duplicated +at any cost. There are only three of its stamp +in the world. Shall we let the matter pass, then, +as though it were of small importance? I feel that +we cannot; that we are, in a measure, responsible for +its disappearance. Mr. Sedgwick handed it to us to +look at, and while it was going through our hands it +vanished. What must he think? What has he every +right to think? I need not put it into words; you +know what you would think, what you could not +help but think, if the object were yours and it was +lost in this way. Gentlemen—I leave the ladies +entirely out of this—I do not propose that he shall +have further opportunity to associate me with this +very natural doubt. I demand the privilege of +emptying my pockets here and now, before any of +us have left his presence. I am a connoisseur in +coins myself and consequently find it imperative to +take the initiative in this matter. As I propose to +spare the ladies, let us step back into the dining-room. +Mr. Sedgwick, pray don’t deny me; I’m +thoroughly in earnest, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>The astonishment created by this audacious proposition +was so great, and the feeling it occasioned so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span> +intense, that for an instant all stood speechless. +Young Hammersley was a millionaire himself, and +generous to a fault, as all knew. Under no circumstances +would any one even suspect him of appropriating +anything, great or small, to which he had not +a perfect right. Nor was he likely to imagine for +a moment that any one would. That he could make +such a proposition then, based upon any such plea, +argued a definite suspicion in some other quarter, +which could not pass unrecognized. In vain Mr. +Sedgwick raised his voice in frank and decided protest, +two of the gentlemen had already made a quick +move toward Robert, who still stood, stupefied by +the situation, with his hand on the cord which controlled +the curtains.</p> + +<p>“He is quite right,” remarked one of these, as he +passed into the dining-room. “I shouldn’t sleep a +wink to-night if this question remained unsettled.” +The other, the oldest man present, the financier of +whose standing and highly esteemed character I have +already spoken, said nothing, but followed in a way +to show that his mind was equally made up.</p> + +<p>The position in which Mr. Sedgwick found himself +placed was far from enviable. With a glance +at the two remaining gentlemen, he turned towards +the ladies now standing in a close group at the other +end of the room. One of them was his wife, and he +quivered internally as he noted the deep red of her +distressed countenance. But it was the other he +addressed, singling out, with the rare courtesy which +was his by nature, the one comparative stranger,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span> +Darrow’s niece, a Rochester girl, who could not be +finding this, her first party in Boston, very amusing.</p> + +<p>“I hope you will appreciate the dilemma in which +I have been placed by these gentlemen,” he began, +“and will pardon—”</p> + +<p>But here he noticed that she was not in the least +attending; her eyes were on the handsome figure of +Hugh Clifford, her uncle’s neighbor at table, who in +company with Mr. Hammersley was still hesitating +in the doorway. As Mr. Sedgwick stopped his useless +talk, the two passed in and the sound of her +fluttering breath as she finally turned a listening ear +his way, caused him to falter as he repeated his assurances +and begged her indulgence.</p> + +<p>She answered with some conventional phrase +which he forgot while crossing the room. But the +remembrance of her slight satin-robed figure, drawn +up in an attitude whose carelessness was totally belied +by the anxiety of her half-averted glance, +followed him into the presence of the four men +awaiting him. Four? I should say five, for Robert +was still there, though in a corner by himself, ready, +no doubt, to share any attempt which the others +might make to prove their innocence.</p> + +<p>“The ladies will await us in the music-room,” announced +the host on entering; and then paused, disconcerted +by the picture suddenly disclosed to his +eye. On one side stood the two who had entered +first, with their eyes fixed in open sternness on young +Clifford, who, quite alone on the rug, faced them +with a countenance of such pronounced pallor that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span> +there seemed to be nothing else in the room. As his +features were singularly regular and his almost perfect +mouth was accentuated by a smile as set as his +figure was immobile, the effect was so startling that +not only Mr. Sedgwick, but every other person present, +no doubt, wished that the plow had never turned +the furrow which had brought this wretched coin to +light.</p> + +<p>However, the affair had gone too far now for retreat, +as was shown by Mr. Blake, the elderly financier +whom all were ready to recognize as the chief +guest there. With an apologetic glance at Mr. Hammersley, +the impetuous young millionaire who had +first proposed this embarrassing procedure, he advanced +to an empty side-table and began, in a quiet, +business-like way, to lay on it the contents of his various +pockets. As the pile rose, the silence grew, the +act in itself was so simple, the motive actuating it +so serious and out of accord with the standing of the +company and the nature of the occasion. When all +was done, he stepped up to Mr. Sedgwick, with his +arms raised and held out from his body.</p> + +<p>“Now accommodate me,” said he, “by running +your hands up and down my chest. I have a secret +pocket there which should be empty at this time.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Sedgwick, fascinated by his look, did as he +was bid, reporting shortly:</p> + +<p>“You are quite correct. I find nothing there.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Blake stepped back. As he did so, every +eye, suddenly released from his imposing figure, +flashed towards the immovable Clifford, to find him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span> +still absorbed by the action and attitude of the man +who had just undergone what to him doubtless appeared +a degrading ordeal. Pale before, he was +absolutely livid now, though otherwise unchanged. +To break the force of what appeared to be an open, +if involuntary, self-betrayal, another guest stepped +forward; but no sooner had he raised his hand to +his vest-pocket than Clifford moved, and in a high, +strident voice totally unlike his usual tones remarked:</p> + +<p>“This is all—all—very interesting and commendable, +no doubt. But for such a procedure to be of +any real value it should be entered into by all. +Gentlemen”—his rigidity was all gone now and so +was his pallor—“I am unwilling to submit myself +to what, in my eyes, is an act of unnecessary humiliation. +Our word should be enough. I have not the +coin—” Stopped by the absolute silence, he cast a +distressed look into the faces about him, till it +reached that of Mr. Sedgwick, where it lingered, in +an appeal to which that gentleman, out of his great +heart, instantly responded.</p> + +<p>“One <i>should</i> take the word of the gentleman he +invites to his house. We will excuse you, and excuse +all the others from the unnecessary ceremony which +Mr. Blake has been good enough to initiate.”</p> + +<p>But this show of favor was not to the mind of +the last-mentioned gentleman, and met with instant +reproof.</p> + +<p>“Not so fast, Sedgwick. I am the oldest man here +and I did not feel it was enough simply to state that +this coin was not on my person. As to the question<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span> +of humiliation, it strikes me that humiliation would +lie, in this instance, in a refusal for which no better +excuse can be given than the purely egotistical one +of personal pride.”</p> + +<p>At this attack, the fine head of Clifford rose, and +Darrow, remembering the girl within, felt instinctively +grateful that she was not here to note the effect +it gave to his person.</p> + +<p>“I regret to differ,” said he. “To me no humiliation +could equal that of demonstrating in this open +manner the fact of one’s not being a thief.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Blake gravely surveyed him. For some reason +the issue seemed no longer to lie between Clifford +and the actual loser of the coin, but between him +and his fellow guest, this uncompromising banker.</p> + +<p>“A thief!” repeated the young man, in an indescribable +tone full of bitterness and scorn.</p> + +<p>Mr. Blake remained unmoved; he was a just man +but strict, hard to himself, hard to others. But he +was not entirely without heart. Suddenly his expression +lightened. A certain possible explanation of the +other’s attitude had entered his mind.</p> + +<p>“Young men sometimes have reasons for their +susceptibilities which the old forget. If you have +such—if you carry a photograph, believe that we +have no interest in pictures of any sort to-night and +certainly would fail to recognize them.”</p> + +<p>A smile of disdain flickered across the young +man’s lip. Evidently it was no discovery of this kind +that he feared.</p> + +<p>“I carry no photographs,” said he; and, bowing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span> +low to his host, he added in a measured tone which +but poorly hid his profound agitation, “I regret to +have interfered in the slightest way with the pleasure +of the evening. If you will be so good as to make +my excuses to the ladies, I will withdraw from a presence +upon which I have made so poor an impression.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Sedgwick prized his coin and despised deceit, +but he could not let a guest leave him in this manner. +Instinctively he held out his hand. Proudly young +Clifford dropped his own into it; but the lack of +mutual confidence was felt and the contact was a cold +one. Half regretting his impulsive attempt at courtesy, +Mr. Sedgwick drew back, and Clifford was already +at the door leading into the hall, when Hammersley, +who by his indiscreet proposition had made +all this trouble for him, sprang forward and caught +him by the arm.</p> + +<p>“Don’t go,” he whispered. “You’re done for if +you leave like this. I—I was a brute to propose such +an asinine thing, but having done so I am bound to +see you out of the difficulty. Come into the adjoining +room—there is nobody there at present—and +we will empty our pockets together and find this lost +article if we can. I may have pocketed it myself, +in a fit of abstraction.”</p> + +<p>Did the other hesitate? Some thought so; but, if +he did, it was but momentarily.</p> + +<p>“I cannot,” he muttered; “think what you will of +me, but let me go.” And dashing open the door he +disappeared from their sight just as light steps and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span> +the rustle of skirts were heard again in the adjoining +room.</p> + +<p>“There are the ladies. What shall we say to +them?” queried Sedgwick, stepping slowly towards +the intervening curtains.</p> + +<p>“Tell them the truth,” enjoined Mr. Blake, as he +hastily repocketed his own belongings. “Why +should a handsome devil like that be treated with +any more consideration than another? He has a +secret if he hasn’t a coin. Let them know this. It +may save some one a future heartache.”</p> + +<p>The last sentence was muttered, but Mr. Sedgwick +heard it. Perhaps that was why his first movement +on entering the adjoining room was to cross over to +the cabinet and shut and lock the heavily paneled +door which had been left standing open. At all +events, the action drew general attention and caused +an instant silence, broken the next minute by an +ardent cry:</p> + +<p>“So your search was futile?”</p> + +<p>It came from the lady least known, the interesting +young stranger whose personality had made so vivid +an impression upon him.</p> + +<p>“Quite so,” he answered, hastily facing her with +an attempted smile. “The gentlemen decided not +to carry matters to the length first proposed. The +object was not worth it. I approved their decision. +This was meant for a joyous occasion. Why mar +it by unnecessary unpleasantness?”</p> + +<p>She had given him her full attention while he was +speaking, but her eye wandered away the moment he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span> +had finished and rested searchingly on the other +gentlemen. Evidently she missed a face she had expected +to find there, for her color changed and she +drew back behind the other ladies with the light, +unmusical laugh women sometimes use to hide a +secret emotion.</p> + +<p>It brought Mr. Darrow forward.</p> + +<p>“Some were not willing to subject themselves to +what they considered an unnecessary humiliation”, +he curtly remarked. “Mr. Clifford—”</p> + +<p>“There! let us drop it,” put in his brother-in-law. +“I’ve lost my coin and that’s the end of it. I don’t +intend to have the evening spoiled for a thing like +that. Music! ladies, music and a jolly air! No +more dumps.” And with as hearty a laugh as he +could command in face of the somber looks he encountered +on every side, he led the way back into +the music-room.</p> + +<p>Once there the women seemed to recover their +spirits; that is, such as remained. One had disappeared. +A door opened from this room into the +main hall and through this a certain young lady had +vanished before the others had had time to group +themselves about the piano. We know who this lady +was; possibly, we know, too, why her hostess did not +follow her.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Mr. Clifford had gone upstairs for +his coat, and was lingering there, the prey of some +very bitter reflections. Though he had encountered +nobody on the stairs, and neither heard nor saw any +one in the halls, he felt confident that he was not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span> +unwatched. He remembered the look on the butler’s +face as he tore himself away from Hammersley’s +restraining hand, and he knew what that fellow +thought and also was quite able to guess what that +fellow would do, if his suspicions were farther awakened. +This conviction brought an odd and not very +open smile to his face, as he finally turned to descend +the one flight which separated him from the front +door he was so ardently desirous of closing behind +him for ever.</p> + +<p>A moment and he would be down; but the steps +were many and seemed to multiply indefinitely as he +sped below. Should his departure be noted, and +some one advance to detain him! He fancied he +heard a rustle in the open space under the stairs. +Were any one to step forth, Robert or— With a +start, he paused and clutched the banister. Some +one had stepped forth; a woman! The swish of her +skirts was unmistakable. He felt the chill of a new +dread. Never in his short but triumphant career +had he met coldness or disapproval in the eye of a +woman. Was he to encounter it now? If so, it +would go hard with him. He trembled as he turned +his head to see which of the four it was. If it should +prove to be his hostess— But it was not she; it was +Darrow’s young friend, the pretty inconsequent girl +he had chatted with at the dinner-table, and afterwards +completely forgotten in the events which had +centered all his thoughts upon himself. And she +was standing there, waiting for him! He would +have to pass her,—notice her,—speak.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span></p> + +<p>But when the encounter occurred and their eyes +met, he failed to find in hers any sign of the disapproval +he feared, but instead a gentlewomanly interest +which he might interpret deeply, or otherwise, +according to the measure of his need.</p> + +<p>That need seemed to be a deep one at this instant, +for his countenance softened perceptibly as he took +her quietly extended hand.</p> + +<p>“Good-night,” she said; “I am just going myself,” +and with an entrancing smile of perfect friendliness, +she fluttered past him up the stairs.</p> + +<p>It was the one and only greeting which his sick +heart could have sustained without flinching. Just +this friendly farewell of one acquaintance to another, +as though no change had taken place in his +relations to society and the world. And she was a +woman and not a thoughtless girl! Staring after +her slight, elegant figure, slowly ascending the stair, +he forgot to return her cordial greeting. What +delicacy, and yet what character there was in the +poise of her spirited head! He felt his breath fail +him, in his anxiety for another glance from her eye, +for some sign, however small, that she had carried +the thought of him up those few, quickly mounted +steps. Would he get it? She is at the bend of the +stair; she pauses—turns, a nod—and she is gone.</p> + +<p>With an impetuous gesture, he dashed from the +house.</p> + +<p>In the drawing-room the noise of the closing door +was heard, and a change at once took place in the +attitude and expression of all present. The young<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span> +millionaire approached Mr. Sedgwick and confidentially +remarked:</p> + +<p>“There goes your precious coin. I’m sure of it. +I even think I can tell the exact place in which it +is hidden. His hand went to his left coat-pocket once +too often.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right. I noticed the action also,” chimed +in Mr. Darrow, who had stepped up, unobserved. +“And I noticed something else. His whole appearance +altered from the moment this coin came on the +scene. An indefinable half-eager, half-furtive look +crept into his eye as he saw it passed from hand to +hand. I remember it now, though it didn’t make +much impression upon me at the time.”</p> + +<p>“And I remember another thing,” supplemented +Hammersley in his anxiety to set himself straight +with these men of whose entire approval he was not +quite sure. “He raised his napkin to his mouth very +frequently during the meal and held it there longer +than is usual, too. Once he caught me looking at +him, and for a moment he flushed scarlet, then he +broke out with one of his witty remarks and I had +to laugh like everybody else. If I am not mistaken, +his napkin was up and his right hand working behind +it, about the time Mr. Sedgwick requested the +return of his coin.”</p> + +<p>“The idiot! Hadn’t he sense enough to know that +such a loss wouldn’t pass unquestioned? The gem +of the collection; known all over the country, and +he’s not even a connoisseur.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span></p> + +<p>“No; I’ve never even heard him mention numismatics.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Darrow spoke of its value. Perhaps that +was what tempted him. I know that Clifford’s been +rather down on his luck lately.”</p> + +<p>“He? Well, he don’t look it. There isn’t one +of us so well set up. Pardon me, Mr. Hammersley, +you understand what I mean. He perhaps relies a +little bit too much on his fine clothes.”</p> + +<p>“He needn’t. His face is his fortune—all the +one he’s got, I heard it said. He had a pretty income +from Consolidated Silver, but that’s gone up and +left him in what you call difficulties. If he has debts +besides—”</p> + +<p>But here Mr. Darrow was called off. His niece +wanted to see him for one minute in the hall. When +he came back it was to make his adieu and hers. +She had been taken suddenly indisposed and his duty +was to see her immediately home. This broke up +the party, and amid general protestations the various +guests were taking their leave when the whole +action was stopped by a smothered cry from the +dining-room, and the precipitate entrance of Robert, +asking for Mr. Sedgwick.</p> + +<p>“What’s up? What’s happened?” demanded that +gentleman, hurriedly advancing towards the agitated +butler.</p> + +<p>“Found!” he exclaimed, holding up the coin between +his thumb and forefinger. “It was standing +straight up between two leaves of the table. It<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span> +tumbled and fell to the floor as Luke and I were +taking them out.”</p> + +<p>Silence which could be felt for a moment. Then +each man turned and surveyed his neighbor, while +the women’s voices rose in little cries that were almost +hysterical.</p> + +<p>“I knew that it would be found, and found here,” +came from the hallway in rich, resonant tones. +“Uncle, do not hurry; I am feeling better,” followed +in unconscious näiveté, as the young girl stepped in, +showing a countenance in which were small signs +of indisposition or even of depressed spirits.</p> + +<p>Mr. Darrow, with a smile of sympathetic understanding, +joined the others now crowding about the +butler.</p> + +<p>“I noticed the crack between these two leaves +when I pushed about the plates and dishes,” he was +saying. “But I never thought of looking in it for +the missing coin. I’m sure I’m very sorry that I +didn’t.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darrow, to whom these words had recalled +a circumstance he had otherwise completely forgotten, +anxiously remarked: “That must have happened +shortly after it left my hand. I recall now +that the lady sitting between me and Clifford gave +it a twirl which sent it spinning over the bare tabletop. +I don’t think she realized the action. She was +listening—we all were—to a flow of bright repartee +going on below us, and failed to follow the movements +of the coin. Otherwise, she would have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span> +spoken. But what a marvel that it should have +reached that crack in just the position to fall in!”</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t happen again, not if we spun it there +for a month of Sundays.”</p> + +<p>“But Mr. Clifford!” put in an agitated voice.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it has been rather hard on him. But he +shouldn’t have such keen sensibilities. If he had +emptied out his pockets cheerfully and at the first +intimation, none of this unpleasantness would have +happened. Mr. Sedgwick, I congratulate you upon +the recovery of this valuable coin, and am quite +ready to offer my services if you wish to make Mr. +Clifford immediately acquainted with Robert’s discovery.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, but I will perform that duty myself,” +was Mr. Sedgwick’s quiet rejoinder, as he unlocked +the door of his cabinet and carefully restored the +coin to its proper place.</p> + +<p>When he faced back, he found his guests on the +point of leaving. Only one gave signs of any intention +of lingering. This was the elderly financier +who had shown such stern resolve in his treatment +of Mr. Clifford’s so-called sensibilities. He had +confided his wife to the care of Mr. Darrow, and +now met Mr. Sedgwick with this remark:</p> + +<p>“I’m going to ask a favor of you. If, as you have +intimated, it is your intention to visit Mr. Clifford +to-night, I should like to go with you. I don’t understand +this young man and his unaccountable attitude +in this matter, and it is very important that I should. +Have you any objection to my company? My motor<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span> +is at the door, and we can settle the affair in twenty-minutes.”</p> + +<p>“None,” returned his host, a little surprised, however, +at the request. “His pride does seem a little +out of place, but he was among comparative strangers, +and seemed to feel his honor greatly impugned +by Hammersley’s unfortunate proposition. I’m +sorry way down to the ground for what has occurred, +and cannot carry him our apologies too soon.”</p> + +<p>“No, you cannot,” retorted the other shortly. +And so seriously did he utter this that no time was +lost by Mr. Sedgwick, and as soon as they could get +into their coats, they were in the motor and on their +way to the young man’s apartment.</p> + +<p>Their experience began at the door. A man was +lolling there who told them that Mr. Clifford had +changed his quarters; where he did not know. But +upon the production of a five-dollar bill, he remembered +enough about it to give them a number and +street where possibly they might find him. In a rush, +they hastened there; only to hear the same story +from the sleepy elevator boy anticipating his last trip +up for the night.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Clifford left a week ago; he didn’t tell me +where he was going.”</p> + +<p>Nevertheless the boy knew; that they saw, and +another but smaller bill came into requisition and +awoke his sleepy memory.</p> + +<p>The street and number which he gave made the +two well-to-do men stare. But they said nothing, +though the looks they cast back at the second-rate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span> +quarters they were leaving, so far below the elegant +apartment house they had visited first, were sufficiently +expressive. The scale of descent from luxury +to positive discomfort was proving a rapid one and +prepared them for the dismal, ill-cared-for, altogether +repulsive doorway before which they halted +next. No attendant waited here; not even an elevator +boy; the latter for the good reason that there +was no elevator. An uninviting flight of stairs was +before them! and on one the few doors within sight +a simple card showed the name of the occupant.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sedgwick glanced at his companion.</p> + +<p>“Shall we go up?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Mr. Blake nodded. “We’ll find him,” said he, “if +it takes all night.”</p> + +<p>“Surely he cannot have sunk lower than this.”</p> + +<p>“Remembering his get-up, I do not think so. Yet +who knows? Some mystery lies back of his whole +conduct. Dining in your home, with this to come +back to! I don’t wonder—”</p> + +<p>But here a thought struck him. Pausing with his +foot on the stair, he turned a flushed countenance +towards Mr. Sedgwick. “I’ve an idea,” said he. +“Perhaps—” He whispered the rest.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sedgwick stared and shook his shoulders. +“Possibly,” said he, flushing slightly in his turn. +Then, as they proceeded up, “I feel like a brute, +anyway. A sorry night’s business all through, unless +the end proves better than the beginning.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll start from the top. Something tells me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span> +that we shall find him close under the roof. Can +you read the names by such a light?”</p> + +<p>“Barely; but I have matches.”</p> + +<p>And now there might have been witnessed by any +chance home-comer the curious sight of two extremely +well-dressed men pottering through the attic +hall of this decaying old domicile, reading the cards +on the doors by means of a lighted match.</p> + +<p>And vainly. On none of the cards could be seen +the name they sought.</p> + +<p>“We’re on the wrong track,” protested Mr. +Blake. “No use keeping this up,” but found himself +stopped, when about to turn away, by a gesture +of Sedgwick’s.</p> + +<p>“There’s a light under the door you see there untagged,” +said he. “I’m going to knock.”</p> + +<p>He did so. There was a sound within and then +utter silence.</p> + +<p>He knocked again. A man’s step was heard approaching +the door, then again the silence.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sedgwick made a third essay, and then the +door was suddenly pulled inward and in the gap +they saw the handsome face and graceful figure of +the young man they had so lately encountered amid +palatial surroundings. But how changed! how +openly miserable! and when he saw who his guests +were, how proudly defiant of their opinion and presence.</p> + +<p>“You have found the coin,” he quietly remarked. +“I appreciate your courtesy in coming here to inform +me of it. Will not that answer, without further<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span> +conversation? I am on the point of retiring and—and—”</p> + +<p>Even the hardihood of a very visible despair gave +way for an instant as he met Mr. Sedgwick’s eye. +In the break which followed, the older man spoke.</p> + +<p>“Pardon us, but we have come thus far with a +double purpose. First, to tender our apologies, +which you have been good enough to accept; secondly, +to ask, in no spirit of curiosity, I assure you, +a question that I seem to see answered, but which +I should be glad to hear confirmed by your lips. +May we not come in?”</p> + +<p>The question was put with a rare smile such as +sometimes was seen on this hard-grained handler +of millions, and the young man, seeing it, faltered +back, leaving the way open for them to enter. The +next minute he seemed to regret the impulse, for +backing against a miserable table they saw there, he +drew himself up with an air as nearly hostile as one +of his nature could assume.</p> + +<p>“I know of no question,” said he, “which I feel +at this very late hour inclined to answer. A man +who has been tracked as I must have been for you +to find me here, is hardly in a mood to explain his +poverty or the mad desire for former luxuries which +took him to the house of one friendly enough, he +thought, to accept his presence without inquiry as +to the place he lived in or the nature or number +of the reverses which had brought him to such a +place as this.”</p> + +<p>“I do not—believe me—” faltered Mr. Sedgwick,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span> +greatly embarrassed and distressed. In spite of the +young man’s attempt to hide the contents of the +table, he had seen the two objects lying there—a +piece of bread or roll, and a half-cocked revolver.</p> + +<p>Mr. Blake had seen them, too, and at once took +the word out of his companion’s mouth.</p> + +<p>“You mistake us,” he said coldly, “as well as the +nature of our errand. We are here from no motive +of curiosity, as I have before said, nor from any +other which might offend or distress you. We—or +rather I—am here on business. I have a position +to offer to an intelligent, upright, enterprising young +man. Your name has been given me. It was given +me before this dinner, to which I went—if Mr. Sedgwick +will pardon my plain speaking—chiefly for the +purpose of making your acquaintance. The result +was what you know, and possibly now you can understand +my anxiety to see you exonerate yourself +from the doubts you yourself raised by your attitude +of resistance to the proposition made by that headlong, +but well-meaning, young man of many millions, +Mr. Hammersley. I wanted to find in you the honorable +characteristics necessary to the man who is to +draw an eight thousand dollars a year salary under +my eye. I still want to do this. If then you are +willing to make this whole thing plain to me—for +it is not plain—not wholly plain, Mr. Clifford—then +you will find in me a friend such as few young fellows +can boast of, for I like you—I will say that—and +where I like—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span></p> + +<p>The gesture with which he ended the sentence was +almost superfluous, in face of the change which had +taken place in the aspect of the man he addressed. +Wonder, doubt, hope, and again incredulity were +lost at last in a recognition of the other’s kindly +intentions toward himself, and the prospects which +they opened out before him. With a shamefaced +look, and yet with a manly acceptance of his own +humiliation that was not displeasing to his visitors, +he turned about and pointing to the morsel of bread +lying on the table before them, he said to Mr. Sedgwick:</p> + +<p>“Do you recognize that? It is from your table, +and—and—it is not the only piece I had hidden in +my pockets. I had not eaten in twenty-four hours +when I sat down to dinner this evening. I had no +prospect of another morsel for to-morrow and—and—I +was afraid of eating my fill—there were +ladies—and so—and so—”</p> + +<p>They did not let him finish. In a flash they had +both taken in the room. Not an article which could +be spared was anywhere visible. His dress-suit was +all that remained to him of former ease and luxury. +That he had retained, possibly for just such opportunities +as had given him a dinner to-night. Mr. +Blake understood at last, and his iron lip trembled.</p> + +<p>“Have you no friends?” he asked. “Was it necessary +to go hungry?”</p> + +<p>“Could I ask alms or borrow what I could not +pay? It was a position I was after, and positions +do not come at call. Sometimes they come without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span> +it,” he smiled with the dawning of his old-time grace +on his handsome face, “but I find that one can see +his resources go, dollar by dollar, and finally, cent +by cent, in the search for employment no one considers +necessary to a man like me. Perhaps if I had +had less pride, had been willing to take you or any +one else into my confidence, I might not have sunk +to these depths of humiliation; but I had not the +confidence in men which this last half hour has given +me, and I went blundering on, hiding my needs and +hoping against hope for some sort of result to my +efforts. This pistol is not mine. I did borrow this, +but I did not mean to use it, unless nature reached +the point where it could stand no more. I thought +the time had come to-night when I left your house, +Mr. Sedgwick, suspected of theft. It seemed the last +straw; but—but—a woman’s look has held me back. +I hesitated and—now you know the whole,” said he; +“that is, if you can understand why it was more possible +for me to brave the contumely of such a suspicion +than to open my pockets and disclose the +crusts I had hidden there.”</p> + +<p>“I can understand,” said Mr. Sedgwick; “but the +opportunity you have given us for doing so must +not be shared by others. We will undertake your +justification, but it must be made in our own way and +after the most careful consideration; eh, Mr. +Blake?”</p> + +<p>“Most assuredly; and if Mr. Clifford will present +himself at my office early in the morning, we will +first breakfast and then talk business.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span></p> + +<p>Young Clifford could only hold out his hand, but +when, his two friends gone, he sat in contemplation +of his changed prospects, one word and one only +left his lips, uttered in every inflection of tenderness, +hope, and joy. “Edith! Edith! Edith!”</p> + +<p>It was the name of the sweet young girl who had +shown her faith in him at the moment when his heart +was lowest and despair at its culmination. +</p> + +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="transnote"> + +<p class="c">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> + +<p>Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been changed.</p> + +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78750 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78750-h/images/cover.jpg b/78750-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..688e650 --- /dev/null +++ b/78750-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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