I found myself confronting an individual who might almost have sat for\u00a0one of the bogies I had just alluded to. His costume was reminiscent of\u00a0the 'Algerians' whom one finds all over France, and who are the most\u00a0persistent, insolent and amusing of pedlars. I remember one who used to\u00a0haunt the repetitions at the Alcazar at Tours,--but there! This\u00a0individual was like the originals, yet unlike,--he was less gaudy, and\u00a0a good deal dingier, than his Gallic prototypes are apt to be. Then he\u00a0wore a burnoose,--the yellow, grimy-looking article of the Arab of the\u00a0Soudan, not the spick and span Arab of the boulevard. Chief difference\u00a0of all, his face was clean shaven,--and whoever saw an Algerian of\u00a0Paris whose chiefest glory was not his well-trimmed moustache and beard?<\/p>\r\n
I expected that he would address me in the lingo which these gentlemen\u00a0call French,--but he didn't.<\/p>\r\n
'You are Mr Atherton?'<\/p>\r\n
'And you are Mr--Who?--how did you come here? Where's my servant?'<\/p>\r\n
The fellow held up his hand. As he did so, as if in accordance with a\u00a0pre-arranged signal, Edwards came into the room looking excessively\u00a0startled. I turned to him.<\/p>\r\n
'Is this the person who wished to see me?'<\/p>\r\n
'Yes, sir.'<\/p>\r\n
'Didn't I tell you to say that I didn't wish to see him?'<\/p>\r\n
'Yes, sir.'<\/p>\r\n
'Then why didn't you do as I told you?'<\/p>\r\n
'I did, sir.'<\/p>\r\n
'Then how comes he here?'<\/p>\r\n
'Really, sir,'--Edwards put his hand up to his head as if he was half\u00a0asleep--'I don't quite know.'<\/p>\r\n
'What do you mean by you don't know? Why didn't you stop him?'<\/p>\r\n
'I think, sir, that I must have had a touch of sudden faintness,\u00a0because I tried to put out my hand to stop him, and--I couldn't.'<\/p>\r\n
'You're an idiot.--Go!' And he went. I turned to the stranger. 'Pray,\u00a0sir, are you a magician?'<\/p>\r\n
He replied to my question with another.<\/p>\r\n
'You, Mr Atherton,--are you also a magician?'<\/p>\r\n
He was staring at my mask with an evident lack of comprehension.<\/p>\r\n
'I wear this because, in this place, death lurks in so many subtle\u00a0forms, that, without it, I dare not breathe,' He inclined his\u00a0head--though I doubt if he understood. 'Be so good as to tell me,\u00a0briefly, what it is you wish with me.'<\/p>\r\n
He slipped his hand into the folds of his burnoose, and, taking out a\u00a0slip of paper, laid it on the shelf by which we were standing. I\u00a0glanced at it, expecting to find on it a petition, or a testimonial, or\u00a0a true statement of his sad case; instead it contained two words\u00a0only,--'Marjorie Lindon.' The unlooked-for sight of that well-loved\u00a0name brought the blood into my cheeks.<\/p>\r\n
'You come from Miss Lindon?' He narrowed his shoulders, brought his\u00a0finger-tips together, inclined his head, in a fashion which was\u00a0peculiarly Oriental, but not particularly explanatory,--so I repeated\u00a0my question.<\/p>\r\n
'Do you wish me to understand that you do come from Miss Lindon?'<\/p>\r\n
Again he slipped his hand into his burnoose, again he produced a slip\u00a0of paper, again he laid it on the shelf, again I glanced at it, again\u00a0nothing was written on it but a name,--'Paul Lessingham.'<\/p>\r\n
'Well?--I see,--Paul Lessingham.--What then?'<\/p>\r\n
'She is good,--he is bad,--is it not so?'<\/p>\r\n
He touched first one scrap of paper, then the other. I stared.<\/p>\r\n
'Pray how do you happen to know?'<\/p>\r\n
'He shall never have her,--eh?'<\/p>\r\n
'What on earth do you mean?'<\/p>\r\n
'Ah!--what do I mean!'<\/p>\r\n
'Precisely, what do you mean? And also, and at the same time, who the\u00a0devil are you?'<\/p>\r\n
'It is as a friend I come to you.'<\/p>\r\n
'Then in that case you may go; I happen to be over-stocked in that line\u00a0just now.'<\/p>\r\n
'Not with the kind of friend I am!'<\/p>\r\n
'The saints forefend!'<\/p>\r\n
'You love her,--you love Miss Lindon! Can you bear to think of him in\u00a0her arms?'<\/p>\r\n
I took off my mask,--feeling that the occasion required it. As I did so\u00a0he brushed aside the hanging folds of the hood of his burnoose, so that\u00a0I saw more of his face. I was immediately conscious that in his eyes\u00a0there was, in an especial degree, what, for want of a better term, one\u00a0may call the mesmeric quality. That his was one of those morbid\u00a0organisations which are oftener found, thank goodness, in the east than\u00a0in the west, and which are apt to exercise an uncanny influence over\u00a0the weak and the foolish folk with whom they come in contact,--the kind\u00a0of creature for whom it is always just as well to keep a seasoned rope\u00a0close handy. I was, also, conscious that he was taking advantage of the\u00a0removal of my mask to try his strength on me,--than which he could not\u00a0have found a tougher job. The sensitive something which is found in the\u00a0hypnotic subject happens, in me, to be wholly absent.<\/p>\r\n
'I see you are a mesmerist.'<\/p>\r\n
He started.<\/p>\r\n
'I am nothing,--a shadow!'<\/p>\r\n
'And I'm a scientist. I should like, with your permission--or without\u00a0it!--to try an experiment or two on you.'<\/p>\r\n
He moved further back. There came a gleam into his eyes which suggested\u00a0that he possessed his hideous power to an unusual degree,--that, in the\u00a0estimation of his own people, he was qualified to take his standing as\u00a0a regular devil-doctor.<\/p>\r\n
'We will try experiments together, you and I,--on Paul Lessingham.'<\/p>\r\n
'Why on him?'<\/p>\r\n
'You do not know?'<\/p>\r\n
'I do not.'<\/p>\r\n
'Why do you lie to me?'<\/p>\r\n
'I don't lie to you,--I haven't the faintest notion what is the nature\u00a0of your interest in Mr Lessingham.'<\/p>\r\n
'My interest?--that is another thing; it is your interest of which we\u00a0are speaking.'<\/p>\r\n
'Pardon me,--it is yours.'<\/p>\r\n
'Listen! you love her,--and he! But at a word from you he shall not\u00a0have her,--never! It is I who say it,--I!'<\/p>\r\n
'And, once more, sir, who are you?'<\/p>\r\n
'I am of the children of Isis!'<\/p>\r\n
'Is that so?--It occurs to me that you have made a slight\u00a0mistake,--this is London, not a dog-hole in the desert.'<\/p>\r\n
'Do I not know?--what does it matter?--you shall see! There will come a\u00a0time when you will want me,--you will find that you cannot bear to\u00a0think of him in her arms,--her whom you love! You will call to me, and\u00a0I shall come, and of Paul Lessingham there shall be an end.'<\/p>\r\n
(jump to later chapter)<\/p>\r\n\r\n
The laboratory door was closed. The stranger was standing a foot or two\u00a0away from it. I was further within the room, and was subjecting him to\u00a0as keen a scrutiny as circumstances permitted. Beyond doubt he was\u00a0conscious of my observation, yet he bore himself with an air of\u00a0indifference, which was suggestive of perfect unconcern. The fellow was\u00a0oriental to the finger-tips,--that much was certain; yet in spite of a\u00a0pretty wide personal knowledge of oriental people I could not make up\u00a0my mind as to the exact part of the east from which he came. He was\u00a0hardly an Arab, he was not a fellah,--he was not, unless I erred, a\u00a0Mohammedan at all. There was something about him which was distinctly\u00a0not Mussulmanic. So far as looks were concerned, he was not a\u00a0flattering example of his race, whatever his race might be. The\u00a0portentous size of his beak-like nose would have been, in itself,\u00a0sufficient to damn him in any court of beauty. His lips were thick and\u00a0shapeless,--and this, joined to another peculiarity in his appearance,\u00a0seemed to suggest that, in his veins there ran more than a streak of\u00a0negro blood. The peculiarity alluded to was his semblance of great age.\u00a0As one eyed him one was reminded of the legends told of people who have\u00a0been supposed to have retained something of their pristine vigour after\u00a0having lived for centuries. As, however, one continued to gaze, one\u00a0began to wonder if he really was so old as he seemed,--if, indeed, he\u00a0was exceptionally old at all. Negroes, and especially negresses, are\u00a0apt to age with extreme rapidity. Among coloured folk one sometimes\u00a0encounters women whose faces seem to have been lined by the passage of\u00a0centuries, yet whose actual tale of years would entitle them to regard\u00a0themselves, here in England, as in the prime of life. The senility of\u00a0the fellow's countenance, besides, was contradicted by the juvenescence\u00a0of his eyes. No really old man could have had eyes like that. They were\u00a0curiously shaped, reminding me of the elongated, faceted eyes of some\u00a0queer creature, with whose appearance I was familiar, although I could\u00a0not, at the instant, recall its name. They glowed not only with the\u00a0force and fire, but, also, with the frenzy of youth. More\u00a0uncanny-looking eyes I had never encountered,--their possessor could\u00a0not be, in any sense of the word, a clubable person. Owing, probably,\u00a0to some peculiar formation of the optic-nerve one felt, as one met his\u00a0gaze, that he was looking right through you. More obvious danger\u00a0signals never yet were placed in a creature's head. The individual who,\u00a0having once caught sight of him, still sought to cultivate their\u00a0owner's acquaintance, had only himself to thank if the very worst\u00a0results of frequenting evil company promptly ensued.<\/p>\r\n
It happens that I am myself endowed with an unusual tenacity of vision.\u00a0I could, for instance, easily outstare any man I ever met. Yet, as I\u00a0continued to stare at this man, I was conscious that it was only by an\u00a0effort of will that I was able to resist a baleful something which\u00a0seemed to be passing from his eyes to mine. It might have been\u00a0imagination, but, in that sense, I am not an imaginative man; and, if\u00a0it was, it was imagination of an unpleasantly vivid kind. I could\u00a0understand how, in the case of a nervous, or a sensitive temperament,\u00a0the fellow might exercise, by means of the peculiar quality of his\u00a0glance alone, an influence of a most disastrous sort, which given an\u00a0appropriate subject in the manifestation of its power might approach\u00a0almost to the supernatural. If ever man was endowed with the\u00a0traditional evil eye, in which Italians, among modern nations, are such\u00a0profound believers, it was he.<\/p>\r\n
When we had stared at each other for, I daresay, quite five minutes, I\u00a0began to think I had had about enough of it. So, by way of breaking the\u00a0ice, I put to him a question.<\/p>\r\n
'May I ask how you found your way into my back yard?'<\/p>\r\n
He did not reply in words, but, raising his hands he lowered them,\u00a0palms downward, with a gesture which was peculiarly oriental.<\/p>\r\n
'Indeed?--Is that so?--Your meaning may be lucidity itself to you, but,\u00a0for my benefit, perhaps you would not mind translating it into words.\u00a0Once more I ask, how did you find your way into my back yard?'<\/p>\r\n
Again nothing but the gesture.<\/p>\r\n
'Possibly you are not sufficiently acquainted with English manners and\u00a0customs to be aware that you have placed yourself within reach of the\u00a0pains and penalties of the law. Were I to call in the police you would\u00a0find yourself in an awkward situation,--and, unless you are presently\u00a0more explanatory, called in they will be.'<\/p>\r\n
By way of answer he indulged in a distortion of the countenance which\u00a0might have been meant for a smile,--and which seemed to suggest that he\u00a0regarded the police with a contempt which was too great for words.<\/p>\r\n
'Why do you laugh--do you think that being threatened with the police\u00a0is a joke? You are not likely to find it so.--Have you suddenly been\u00a0bereft of the use of your tongue?'<\/p>\r\n
He proved that he had not by using it.<\/p>\r\n
'I have still the use of my tongue.'<\/p>\r\n
'That, at least, is something. Perhaps, since the subject of how you\u00a0got into my back yard seems to be a delicate one, you will tell me why\u00a0you got there.'<\/p>\r\n
'You know why I have come.'<\/p>\r\n
'Pardon me if I appear to flatly contradict you, but that is precisely\u00a0what I do not know.'<\/p>\r\n
'You do know.'<\/p>\r\n
'Do I?--Then, in that case, I presume that you are here for the reason\u00a0which appears upon the surface,--to commit a felony.'<\/p>\r\n
'You call me thief?'<\/p>\r\n
'What else are you?'<\/p>\r\n
'I am no thief.--You know why I have come.'<\/p>\r\n
He raised his head a little. A look came into his eyes which I felt\u00a0that I ought to understand, yet to the meaning of which I seemed, for\u00a0the instant, to have mislaid the key. I shrugged my shoulders.<\/p>\r\n
'I have come because you wanted me.'<\/p>\r\n
'Because I wanted you!--On my word!--That's sublime!'<\/p>\r\n
'All night you have wanted me,--do I not know? When she talked to you\u00a0of him, and the blood boiled in your veins; when he spoke, and all the\u00a0people listened, and you hated him, because he had honour in her eyes.'<\/p>\r\n
I was startled. Either he meant what it appeared incredible that he\u00a0could mean, or--there was confusion somewhere.<\/p>\r\n
'Take my advice, my friend, and don't try to come the bunco-steerer\u00a0over me,--I'm a bit in that line myself, you know.'<\/p>\r\n
This time the score was mine,--he was puzzled.<\/p>\r\n
'I know not what you talk of.'<\/p>\r\n
'In that case, we're equal,--I know not what you talk of either.'<\/p>\r\n
His manner, for him, was childlike and bland.<\/p>\r\n
'What is it you do not know? This morning did I not say,--if you want\u00a0me, then I come?'<\/p>\r\n
'I fancy I have some faint recollection of your being so good as to say\u00a0something of the kind, but--where's the application?'<\/p>\r\n
'Do you not feel for him the same as I?'<\/p>\r\n
'Who's the him?'<\/p>\r\n
'Paul Lessingham.'<\/p>\r\n
It was spoken quietly, but with a degree of--to put it\u00a0gently--spitefulness which showed that at least the will to do the\u00a0Apostle harm would not be lacking.<\/p>\r\n
'And, pray, what is the common feeling which we have for him?'<\/p>\r\n
'Hate.'<\/p>\r\n
Plainly, with this gentleman, hate meant hate,--in the solid oriental\u00a0sense. I should hardly have been surprised if the mere utterance of the\u00a0words had seared his lips.<\/p>\r\n
'I am by no means prepared to admit that I have this feeling which you\u00a0attribute to me, but, even granting that I have, what then?'<\/p>\r\n
'Those who hate are kin.'<\/p>\r\n
'That, also, I should be slow to admit; but--to go a step farther--what\u00a0has all this to do with your presence on my premises at this hour of\u00a0the night?'<\/p>\r\n
'You love her.' This time I did not ask him to supply the name,--being\u00a0unwilling that it should be soiled by the traffic of his lips. 'She\u00a0loves him,--that is not well. If you choose, she shall love you,--that\u00a0will be well.'<\/p>\r\n
'Indeed.--And pray how is this consummation which is so devoutly to be\u00a0desired to be brought about?'<\/p>\r\n
'Put your hand into mine. Say that you wish it. It shall be done.'<\/p>\r\n
Moving a step forward, he stretched out his hand towards me. I\u00a0hesitated. There was that in the fellow's manner which, for the moment,\u00a0had for me an unwholesome fascination. Memories flashed through my mind\u00a0of stupid stories which have been told of compacts made with the devil.\u00a0I almost felt as if I was standing in the actual presence of one of the\u00a0powers of evil. I thought of my love for Marjorie,--which had revealed\u00a0itself after all these years; of the delight of holding her in my arms,\u00a0of feeling the pressure of her lips to mine. As my gaze met his, the\u00a0lower side of what the conquest of this fair lady would mean, burned in\u00a0my brain; fierce imaginings blazed before my eyes. To win her,--only to\u00a0win her!<\/p>\r\n
What nonsense he was talking! What empty brag it was! Suppose, just for\u00a0the sake of the joke, I did put my hand in his, and did wish, right\u00a0out, what it was plain he knew. If I wished, what harm would it do! It\u00a0would be the purest jest. Out of his own mouth he would be confounded,\u00a0for it was certain that nothing would come of it. Why should I not do\u00a0it then?<\/p>\r\n
I would act on his suggestion,--I would carry the thing right through.\u00a0Already I was advancing towards him, when--I stopped. I don't know why.\u00a0On the instant, my thoughts went off at a tangent.<\/p>\r\n
What sort of a blackguard did I call myself that I should take a\u00a0woman's name in vain for the sake of playing fool's tricks with such\u00a0scum of the earth as the hideous vagabond in front of me,--and that the\u00a0name of the woman whom I loved? Rage took hold of me.<\/p>\r\n
'You hound!' I cried.<\/p>\r\n
In my sudden passage from one mood to another, I was filled with the\u00a0desire to shake the life half out of him. But so soon as I moved a step\u00a0in his direction, intending war instead of peace, he altered the\u00a0position of his hand, holding it out towards me as if forbidding my\u00a0approach. Directly he did so, quite involuntarily, I pulled up\u00a0dead,--as if my progress had been stayed by bars of iron and walls of\u00a0steel.<\/p>\r\n
For the moment, I was astonished to the verge of stupefaction. The\u00a0sensation was peculiar. I was as incapable of advancing another inch in\u00a0his direction as if I had lost the use of my limbs,--I was even\u00a0incapable of attempting to attempt to advance. At first I could only\u00a0stare and gape. Presently I began to have an inkling of what had\u00a0happened.<\/p>\r\n
The scoundrel had almost succeeded in hypnotising me.<\/p>\r\n
That was a nice thing to happen to a man of my sort at my time of life.\u00a0A shiver went down my back,--what might have occurred if I had not\u00a0pulled up in time! What pranks might a creature of that character not\u00a0have been disposed to play. It was the old story of the peril of\u00a0playing with edged tools; I had made the dangerous mistake of\u00a0underrating the enemy's strength. Evidently, in his own line, the\u00a0fellow was altogether something out of the usual way.<\/p>\r\n
I believe that even as it was he thought he had me. As I turned away,\u00a0and leaned against the table at my back, I fancy that he shivered,--as\u00a0if this proof of my being still my own master was unexpected. I was\u00a0silent,--it took some seconds to enable me to recover from the shock of\u00a0the discovery of the peril in which I had been standing. Then I\u00a0resolved that I would endeavour to do something which should make me\u00a0equal to this gentleman of many talents.<\/p>\r\n
'Take my advice, my friend, and don't attempt to play that hankey\u00a0pankey off on to me again.'<\/p>\r\n
'I don't know what you talk of.'<\/p>\r\n
'Don't lie to me,--or I'll burn you into ashes.'<\/p>\r\n
Behind me was an electrical machine, giving an eighteen inch spark. It\u00a0was set in motion by a lever fitted into the table, which I could\u00a0easily reach from where I sat. As I spoke the visitor was treated to a\u00a0little exhibition of electricity. The change in his bearing was\u00a0amusing. He shook with terror. He salaamed down to the ground.<\/p>\r\n
'My lord!--my lord!--have mercy, oh my lord!'<\/p>\r\n
'Then you be careful, that's all. You may suppose yourself to be\u00a0something of a magician, but it happens, unfortunately for you, that I\u00a0can do a bit in that line myself,--perhaps I'm a trifle better at the\u00a0game than you are. Especially as you have ventured into my stronghold,\u00a0which contains magic enough to make a show of a hundred thousand such\u00a0as you.'<\/p>\r\n
Taking down a bottle from a shelf, I sprinkled a drop or two of its\u00a0contents on the floor. Immediately flames arose, accompanied by a\u00a0blinding vapour. It was a sufficiently simple illustration of one of\u00a0the qualities of phosphorous-bromide, but its effect upon my visitor\u00a0was as startling as it was unexpected. If I could believe the evidence\u00a0of my own eyesight, in the very act of giving utterance to a scream of\u00a0terror he disappeared, how, or why, or whither, there was nothing to\u00a0show,--in his place, where he had been standing, there seemed to be a\u00a0dim object of some sort in a state of frenzied agitation on the floor.\u00a0The phosphorescent vapour was confusing; the lights appeared to be\u00a0suddenly burning low; before I had sense enough to go and see if there\u00a0was anything there, and, if so, what, the flames had vanished, the man\u00a0himself had reappeared, and, prostrated on his knees, was salaaming in\u00a0a condition of abject terror.<\/p>\r\n
'My lord! my lord!' he whined. 'I entreat you, my lord, to use me as\u00a0your slave!'<\/p>\r\n
'I'll use you as my slave!' Whether he or I was the more agitated it\u00a0would have been difficult to say,--but, at least, it would not have\u00a0done to betray my feelings as he did his.<\/p>\r\n
'Stand up!'<\/p>\r\n
He stood up. I eyed him as he did with an interest which, so far as I\u00a0was concerned, was of a distinctly new and original sort. Whether or\u00a0not I had been the victim of an ocular delusion I could not be sure. It\u00a0was incredible to suppose that he could have disappeared as he had\u00a0seemed to disappear,--it was also incredible that I could have imagined\u00a0his disappearance. If the thing had been a trick, I had not the\u00a0faintest notion how it had been worked; and, if it was not a trick,\u00a0then what was it? Was it something new in scientific marvels? Could he\u00a0give me as much instruction in the qualities of unknown forces as I\u00a0could him?<\/p>\r\n
In the meanwhile he stood in an attitude of complete submission, with\u00a0downcast eyes, and hands crossed upon his breast. I started to\u00a0cross-examine him.<\/p>\r\n
'I am going to ask you some questions. So long as you answer them\u00a0promptly, truthfully, you will be safe. Otherwise you had best beware.'<\/p>\r\n
'Ask, oh my lord.'<\/p>\r\n
'What is the nature of your objection to Mr Lessingham?'<\/p>\r\n
'Revenge.'<\/p>\r\n
'What has he done to you that you should wish to be revenged on him?'<\/p>\r\n
'It is the feud of the innocent blood.'<\/p>\r\n
'What do you mean by that?'<\/p>\r\n
'On his hands is the blood of my kin. It cries aloud for vengeance.'<\/p>\r\n
'Who has he killed?'<\/p>\r\n
'That, my lord, is for me,--and for him.'<\/p>\r\n
'I see.--Am I to understand that you do not choose to answer me, and\u00a0that I am again to use my--magic?'<\/p>\r\n
I saw that he quivered.<\/p>\r\n
'My lord, he has spilled the blood of her who has lain upon his breast.'<\/p>\r\n
I hesitated. What he meant appeared clear enough. Perhaps it would be\u00a0as well not to press for further details. The words pointed to what it\u00a0might be courteous to call an Eastern Romance,--though it was hard to\u00a0conceive of the Apostle figuring as the hero of such a theme. It was\u00a0the old tale retold, that to the life of every man there is a\u00a0background,--that it is precisely in the unlikeliest cases that the\u00a0background's darkest. What would that penny-plain-and-twopence-coloured\u00a0bogey, the Nonconformist Conscience, make of such a story if it were\u00a0blazoned through the land. Would Paul not come down with a run?<\/p>\r\n
'\"Spilling blood\" is a figure of speech; pretty, perhaps, but vague. If\u00a0you mean that Mr Lessingham has been killing someone, your surest and\u00a0most effectual revenge would be gained by an appeal to the law.'<\/p>\r\n
'What has the Englishman's law to do with me?'<\/p>\r\n
'If you can prove that he has been guilty of murder it would have a\u00a0great deal to do with you. I assure you that at any rate, in that\u00a0sense, the Englishman's law is no respecter of persons. Show him to be\u00a0guilty, and it would hang Paul Lessingham as indifferently, and as\u00a0cheerfully, as it would hang Bill Brown.'<\/p>\r\n
'Is that so?'<\/p>\r\n
'It is so, as, if you choose, you will be easily able to prove to your\u00a0own entire satisfaction.'<\/p>\r\n
He had raised his head, and was looking at something which he seemed to\u00a0see in front of him with a maleficent glare in his sensitive eyes which\u00a0it was not nice to see.<\/p>\r\n
'He would be shamed?'<\/p>\r\n
'Indeed he would be shamed.'<\/p>\r\n
'Before all men?'<\/p>\r\n
'Before all men,--and, I take it, before all women too.'<\/p>\r\n
'And he would hang?'<\/p>\r\n
'If shown to have been guilty of wilful murder,--yes.'<\/p>\r\n
His hideous face was lighted up by a sort of diabolical exultation\u00a0which made it, if that were possible, more hideous still. I had\u00a0apparently given him a wrinkle which pleased him most consummately.<\/p>\r\n
'Perhaps I will do that in the end,--in the end!' He opened his eyes to\u00a0their widest limits, then shut them tight,--as if to gloat on the\u00a0picture which his fancy painted. Then reopened them. 'In the meantime I\u00a0will have vengeance in my own fashion. He knows already that the\u00a0avenger is upon him,--he has good reason to know it. And through the\u00a0days and the nights the knowledge shall be with him still, and it shall\u00a0be to him as the bitterness of death,--aye, of many deaths. For he will\u00a0know that escape there is none, and that for him there shall be no more\u00a0sun in the sky, and that the terror shall be with him by night and by\u00a0day, at his rising up and at his lying down, wherever his eyes shall\u00a0turn it shall be there,--yet, behold, the sap and the juice of my\u00a0vengeance is in this, in that though he shall be very sure that the\u00a0days that are, are as the days of his death, yet shall he know that THE\u00a0DEATH, THE GREAT DEATH, is coming--coming--and shall be on him--when I\u00a0will!'<\/p>\r\n
The fellow spoke like an inspired maniac. If he meant half what he\u00a0said,--and if he did not then his looks and his tones belied him!--then\u00a0a promising future bade fair to be in store for Mr Lessingham,--and,\u00a0also, circumstances being as they were, for Marjorie. It was this\u00a0latter reflection which gave me pause. Either this imprecatory fanatic\u00a0would have to be disposed of, by Lessingham himself, or by someone\u00a0acting on his behalf, and, so far as their power of doing mischief\u00a0went, his big words proved empty windbags, or Marjorie would have to be\u00a0warned that there was at least one passage in her suitor's life, into\u00a0which, ere it was too late, it was advisable that inquiry should be\u00a0made. To allow Marjorie to irrevocably link her fate with the\u00a0Apostle's, without being first of all made aware that he was, to all\u00a0intents and purposes, a haunted man--that was not to be thought of.<\/p>\r\n
'You employ large phrases.'<\/p>\r\n
My words cooled the other's heated blood. Once more his eyes were cast\u00a0down, his hands crossed upon his breast<\/p>\r\n
'I crave my lord's pardon. My wound is ever new.'<\/p>\r\n
'By the way, what was the secret history, this morning, of that little\u00a0incident of the cockroach?'<\/p>\r\n
He glanced up quickly.<\/p>\r\n
'Cockroach?--I know not what you say.'<\/p>\r\n
'Well,--was it beetle, then?'<\/p>\r\n
'Beetle!'<\/p>\r\n
He seemed, all at once, to have lost his voice,--the word was gasped.<\/p>\r\n
'After you went we found, upon a sheet of paper, a capitally executed\u00a0drawing of a beetle, which, I fancy, you must have left behind\u00a0you,--Scaraboeus sacer, wasn't it?'<\/p>\r\n
'I know not what you talk of.'<\/p>\r\n
'Its discovery seemed to have quite a singular effect on Mr Lessingham.\u00a0Now, why was that?'<\/p>\r\n
'I know nothing.'<\/p>\r\n
'Oh yes you do,--and, before you go, I mean to know something too.'<\/p>\r\n
The man was trembling, looking this way and that, showing signs of\u00a0marked discomfiture. That there was something about that ancient\u00a0scarab, which figures so largely in the still unravelled tangles of the\u00a0Egyptian mythologies, and the effect which the mere sight of its\u00a0cartouch--for the drawing had resembled something of the kind--had had\u00a0on such a seasoned vessel as Paul Lessingham, which might be well worth\u00a0my finding out, I felt convinced,--the man's demeanour, on my recurring\u00a0to the matter, told its own plain tale. I made up my mind, if possible,\u00a0to probe the business to the bottom, then and there.<\/p>\r\n
'Listen to me, my friend. I am a plain man, and I use plain\u00a0speech,--it's a kind of hobby I have. You will give me the information\u00a0I require, and that at once, or I will pit my magic against yours,--in\u00a0which case I think it extremely probable that you will come off worst\u00a0from the encounter.'<\/p>\r\n
I reached out for the lever, and the exhibition of electricity\u00a0recommenced. Immediately his tremors were redoubled.<\/p>\r\n
'My lord, I know not of what you talk.'<\/p>\r\n
'None of your lies for me.--Tell me why, at the sight of the thing on\u00a0that sheet of paper, Paul Lessingham went green and yellow.'<\/p>\r\n
'Ask him, my lord.'<\/p>\r\n
'Probably, later on, that is what I shall do. In the meantime, I am\u00a0asking you. Answer,--or look out for squalls.'<\/p>\r\n
The electrical exhibition was going on. He was glaring at it as if he\u00a0wished that it would stop. As if ashamed of his cowardice, plainly, on\u00a0a sudden, he made a desperate effort to get the better of his\u00a0fears,--and succeeded better than I had expected or desired. He drew\u00a0himself up with what, in him, amounted to an air of dignity.<\/p>\r\n
'I am a child of Isis!'<\/p>\r\n
It struck me that he made this remark, not so much to impress me, as\u00a0with a view of elevating his own low spirits,<\/p>\r\n
'Are you?--Then, in that case, I regret that I am unable to\u00a0congratulate the lady on her offspring.'<\/p>\r\n
When I said that, a ring came into his voice which I had not heard\u00a0before.<\/p>\r\n
'Silence!--You know not of what you speak!--I warn you, as I warned\u00a0Paul Lessingham, be careful not to go too far. Be not like him,--heed\u00a0my warning.'<\/p>\r\n
'What is it I am being warned against,--the beetle?'<\/p>\r\n
'Yes,--the beetle!'<\/p>\r\n
Were I upon oath, and this statement being made, in the presence of\u00a0witnesses, say, in a solicitor's office, I standing in fear of pains\u00a0and penalties, I think that, at this point, I should leave the paper\u00a0blank. No man likes to own himself a fool, or that he ever was a\u00a0fool,--and ever since I have been wondering whether, on that occasion,\u00a0that 'child of Isis' did, or did not, play the fool with me. His\u00a0performance was realistic enough at the time, heaven knows. But, as it\u00a0gets farther and farther away, I ask myself, more and more confidently,\u00a0as time effluxes, whether, after all, it was not clever\u00a0juggling,--superhumanly clever juggling, if you will; that, and nothing\u00a0more. If it was something more, then, with a vengeance! there is more\u00a0in heaven and earth than is dreamed of in our philosophy. The mere\u00a0possibility opens vistas which the sane mind fears to contemplate.<\/p>\r\n
Since, then, I am not on oath, and, should I fall short of verbal\u00a0accuracy, I do not need to fear the engines of the law, what seemed to\u00a0happen was this.<\/p>\r\n
He was standing within about ten feet of where I leaned against the\u00a0edge of the table. The light was full on, so that it was difficult to\u00a0suppose that I could make a mistake as to what took place in front of\u00a0me. As he replied to my mocking allusion to the beetle by echoing my\u00a0own words, he vanished,--or, rather, I saw him taking a different shape\u00a0before my eyes. His loose draperies all fell off him, and, as they were\u00a0in the very act of falling, there issued, or there seemed to issue out\u00a0of them, a monstrous creature of the beetle type,--the man himself was\u00a0gone. On the point of size I wish to make myself clear. My impression,\u00a0when I saw it first, was that it was as large as the man had been, and\u00a0that it was, in some way, standing up on end, the legs towards me. But,\u00a0the moment it came in view, it began to dwindle, and that so rapidly\u00a0that, in a couple of seconds at most, a little heap of drapery was\u00a0lying on the floor, on which was a truly astonishing example of the\u00a0coleoptera. It appeared to be a beetle. It was, perhaps, six or seven\u00a0inches high, and about a foot in length. Its scales were of a vivid\u00a0golden green. I could distinctly see where the wings were sheathed\u00a0along the back, and, as they seemed to be slightly agitated, I looked,\u00a0every moment, to see them opened, and the thing take wing.<\/p>\r\n
I was so astonished,--as who would not have been?--that for an\u00a0appreciable space of time I was practically in a state of stupefaction.\u00a0I could do nothing but stare. I was acquainted with the legendary\u00a0transmigrations of Isis, and with the story of the beetle which issues\u00a0from the woman's womb through all eternity, and with the other pretty\u00a0tales, but this, of which I was an actual spectator, was something new,\u00a0even in legends. If the man, with whom I had just been speaking, was\u00a0gone, where had he gone to? If this glittering creature was there, in\u00a0his stead, whence had it come?<\/p>\r\n
I do protest this much, that, after the first shock of surprise had\u00a0passed, I retained my presence of mind. I felt as an investigator might\u00a0feel, who has stumbled, haphazard, on some astounding, some\u00a0epoch-making, discovery. I was conscious that I should have to make the\u00a0best use of my mental faculties if I was to take full advantage of so\u00a0astonishing an accident. I kept my glance riveted on the creature, with\u00a0the idea of photographing it on my brain. I believe that if it were\u00a0possible to take a retinal print--which it someday will be--you would\u00a0have a perfect picture of what it was I saw, Beyond doubt it was a\u00a0lamellicorn, one of the copridae. With the one exception of its\u00a0monstrous size, there were the characteristics in plain view;--the\u00a0convex body, the large head, the projecting clypeus. More, its smooth\u00a0head and throat seemed to suggest that it was a female. Equally beyond\u00a0a doubt, apart from its size, there were unusual features present too.\u00a0The eyes were not only unwontedly conspicuous, they gleamed as if they\u00a0were lighted by internal flames,--in some indescribable fashion they\u00a0reminded me of my vanished visitor. The colouring was superb, and the\u00a0creature appeared to have the chameleon-like faculty of lightening and\u00a0darkening the shades at will. Its not least curious feature was its\u00a0restlessness. It was in a state of continual agitation; and, as if it\u00a0resented my inspection, the more I looked at it the more its agitation\u00a0grew. As I have said, I expected every moment to see it take wing and\u00a0circle through the air.<\/p>\r\n
All the while I was casting about in my mind as to what means I could\u00a0use to effect its capture. I did think of killing it, and, on the\u00a0whole, I rather wish that I had at any rate attempted slaughter,--there\u00a0were dozens of things, lying ready to my hand, any one of which would\u00a0have severely tried its constitution;--but, on the spur of the moment,\u00a0the only method of taking it alive which occurred to me, was to pop\u00a0over it a big tin canister which had contained soda-lime. This canister\u00a0was on the floor to my left. I moved towards it, as nonchalantly as I\u00a0could, keeping an eye on that shining wonder all the time. Directly I\u00a0moved, its agitation perceptibly increased,--it was, so to speak, all\u00a0one whirr of tremblement; it scintillated, as if its coloured scales\u00a0had been so many prisms; it began to unsheath its wings, as if it had\u00a0finally decided that it would make use of them. Picking up the tin,\u00a0disembarrassing it of its lid, I sprang towards my intended victim. Its\u00a0wings opened wide; obviously it was about to rise; but it was too late.\u00a0Before it had cleared the ground, the tin was over it.<\/p>\r\n
It remained over it, however, for an instant only. I had stumbled, in\u00a0my haste, and, in my effort to save myself from falling face foremost\u00a0on to the floor, I was compelled to remove my hands from the tin.\u00a0Before I was able to replace them, the tin was sent flying, and, while\u00a0I was still partially recumbent, within eighteen inches of me, that\u00a0beetle swelled and swelled, until it had assumed its former portentous\u00a0dimensions, when, as it seemed, it was enveloped by a human shape, and\u00a0in less time than no time, there stood in front of me, naked from top\u00a0to toe, my truly versatile oriental friend. One startling fact nudity\u00a0revealed,--that I had been egregiously mistaken on the question of sex.\u00a0My visitor was not a man, but a woman, and, judging from the brief\u00a0glimpse which I had of her body, by no means old or ill-shaped either.<\/p>\r\n
If that transformation was not a bewildering one, then two and two make\u00a0five. The most level-headed scientist would temporarily have lost his\u00a0mental equipoise on witnessing such a quick change as that within a\u00a0span or two of his own nose I was not only witless, I was breathless\u00a0too,--I could only gape. And, while I gaped, the woman, stooping down,\u00a0picking up her draperies, began to huddle them on her anyhow,--and,\u00a0also, to skeddadle towards the door which led into the yard. When I\u00a0observed this last manoeuvre, to some extent I did rise to the\u00a0requirements of the situation. Leaping up, I rushed to stay her flight.<\/p>\r\n
'Stop!' I shouted.<\/p>\r\n
But she was too quick for me. Ere I could reach her, she had opened the\u00a0door, and was through it,--and, what was more, she had slammed it in my\u00a0face. In my excitement, I did some fumbling with the handle. When, in\u00a0my turn, I was in the yard, she was out of sight. I did fancy I saw a\u00a0dim form disappearing over the wall at the further side, and I made for\u00a0it as fast as I knew how. I clambered on to the wall, looking this way\u00a0and that, but there was nothing and no one to be seen. I listened for\u00a0the sound of retreating footsteps, but all was still. Apparently I had\u00a0the entire neighbourhood to my own sweet self. My visitor had vanished.\u00a0Time devoted to pursuit I felt would be time ill-spent.<\/p>","rendered":"
I found myself confronting an individual who might almost have sat for\u00a0one of the bogies I had just alluded to. His costume was reminiscent of\u00a0the ‘Algerians’ whom one finds all over France, and who are the most\u00a0persistent, insolent and amusing of pedlars. I remember one who used to\u00a0haunt the repetitions at the Alcazar at Tours,–but there! This\u00a0individual was like the originals, yet unlike,–he was less gaudy, and\u00a0a good deal dingier, than his Gallic prototypes are apt to be. Then he\u00a0wore a burnoose,–the yellow, grimy-looking article of the Arab of the\u00a0Soudan, not the spick and span Arab of the boulevard. Chief difference\u00a0of all, his face was clean shaven,–and whoever saw an Algerian of\u00a0Paris whose chiefest glory was not his well-trimmed moustache and beard?<\/p>\n
I expected that he would address me in the lingo which these gentlemen\u00a0call French,–but he didn’t.<\/p>\n
‘You are Mr Atherton?’<\/p>\n
‘And you are Mr–Who?–how did you come here? Where’s my servant?’<\/p>\n
The fellow held up his hand. As he did so, as if in accordance with a\u00a0pre-arranged signal, Edwards came into the room looking excessively\u00a0startled. I turned to him.<\/p>\n
‘Is this the person who wished to see me?’<\/p>\n
‘Yes, sir.’<\/p>\n
‘Didn’t I tell you to say that I didn’t wish to see him?’<\/p>\n
‘Yes, sir.’<\/p>\n
‘Then why didn’t you do as I told you?’<\/p>\n
‘I did, sir.’<\/p>\n
‘Then how comes he here?’<\/p>\n
‘Really, sir,’–Edwards put his hand up to his head as if he was half\u00a0asleep–‘I don’t quite know.’<\/p>\n
‘What do you mean by you don’t know? Why didn’t you stop him?’<\/p>\n
‘I think, sir, that I must have had a touch of sudden faintness,\u00a0because I tried to put out my hand to stop him, and–I couldn’t.’<\/p>\n
‘You’re an idiot.–Go!’ And he went. I turned to the stranger. ‘Pray,\u00a0sir, are you a magician?’<\/p>\n
He replied to my question with another.<\/p>\n
‘You, Mr Atherton,–are you also a magician?’<\/p>\n
He was staring at my mask with an evident lack of comprehension.<\/p>\n
‘I wear this because, in this place, death lurks in so many subtle\u00a0forms, that, without it, I dare not breathe,’ He inclined his\u00a0head–though I doubt if he understood. ‘Be so good as to tell me,\u00a0briefly, what it is you wish with me.’<\/p>\n
He slipped his hand into the folds of his burnoose, and, taking out a\u00a0slip of paper, laid it on the shelf by which we were standing. I\u00a0glanced at it, expecting to find on it a petition, or a testimonial, or\u00a0a true statement of his sad case; instead it contained two words\u00a0only,–‘Marjorie Lindon.’ The unlooked-for sight of that well-loved\u00a0name brought the blood into my cheeks.<\/p>\n
‘You come from Miss Lindon?’ He narrowed his shoulders, brought his\u00a0finger-tips together, inclined his head, in a fashion which was\u00a0peculiarly Oriental, but not particularly explanatory,–so I repeated\u00a0my question.<\/p>\n
‘Do you wish me to understand that you do come from Miss Lindon?’<\/p>\n
Again he slipped his hand into his burnoose, again he produced a slip\u00a0of paper, again he laid it on the shelf, again I glanced at it, again\u00a0nothing was written on it but a name,–‘Paul Lessingham.’<\/p>\n
‘Well?–I see,–Paul Lessingham.–What then?’<\/p>\n
‘She is good,–he is bad,–is it not so?’<\/p>\n
He touched first one scrap of paper, then the other. I stared.<\/p>\n
‘Pray how do you happen to know?’<\/p>\n
‘He shall never have her,–eh?’<\/p>\n
‘What on earth do you mean?’<\/p>\n
‘Ah!–what do I mean!’<\/p>\n
‘Precisely, what do you mean? And also, and at the same time, who the\u00a0devil are you?’<\/p>\n
‘It is as a friend I come to you.’<\/p>\n
‘Then in that case you may go; I happen to be over-stocked in that line\u00a0just now.’<\/p>\n
‘Not with the kind of friend I am!’<\/p>\n
‘The saints forefend!’<\/p>\n
‘You love her,–you love Miss Lindon! Can you bear to think of him in\u00a0her arms?’<\/p>\n
I took off my mask,–feeling that the occasion required it. As I did so\u00a0he brushed aside the hanging folds of the hood of his burnoose, so that\u00a0I saw more of his face. I was immediately conscious that in his eyes\u00a0there was, in an especial degree, what, for want of a better term, one\u00a0may call the mesmeric quality. That his was one of those morbid\u00a0organisations which are oftener found, thank goodness, in the east than\u00a0in the west, and which are apt to exercise an uncanny influence over\u00a0the weak and the foolish folk with whom they come in contact,–the kind\u00a0of creature for whom it is always just as well to keep a seasoned rope\u00a0close handy. I was, also, conscious that he was taking advantage of the\u00a0removal of my mask to try his strength on me,–than which he could not\u00a0have found a tougher job. The sensitive something which is found in the\u00a0hypnotic subject happens, in me, to be wholly absent.<\/p>\n
‘I see you are a mesmerist.’<\/p>\n
He started.<\/p>\n
‘I am nothing,–a shadow!’<\/p>\n
‘And I’m a scientist. I should like, with your permission–or without\u00a0it!–to try an experiment or two on you.’<\/p>\n
He moved further back. There came a gleam into his eyes which suggested\u00a0that he possessed his hideous power to an unusual degree,–that, in the\u00a0estimation of his own people, he was qualified to take his standing as\u00a0a regular devil-doctor.<\/p>\n
‘We will try experiments together, you and I,–on Paul Lessingham.’<\/p>\n
‘Why on him?’<\/p>\n
‘You do not know?’<\/p>\n
‘I do not.’<\/p>\n
‘Why do you lie to me?’<\/p>\n
‘I don’t lie to you,–I haven’t the faintest notion what is the nature\u00a0of your interest in Mr Lessingham.’<\/p>\n
‘My interest?–that is another thing; it is your interest of which we\u00a0are speaking.’<\/p>\n
‘Pardon me,–it is yours.’<\/p>\n
‘Listen! you love her,–and he! But at a word from you he shall not\u00a0have her,–never! It is I who say it,–I!’<\/p>\n
‘And, once more, sir, who are you?’<\/p>\n
‘I am of the children of Isis!’<\/p>\n
‘Is that so?–It occurs to me that you have made a slight\u00a0mistake,–this is London, not a dog-hole in the desert.’<\/p>\n
‘Do I not know?–what does it matter?–you shall see! There will come a\u00a0time when you will want me,–you will find that you cannot bear to\u00a0think of him in her arms,–her whom you love! You will call to me, and\u00a0I shall come, and of Paul Lessingham there shall be an end.’<\/p>\n
(jump to later chapter)<\/p>\n
The laboratory door was closed. The stranger was standing a foot or two\u00a0away from it. I was further within the room, and was subjecting him to\u00a0as keen a scrutiny as circumstances permitted. Beyond doubt he was\u00a0conscious of my observation, yet he bore himself with an air of\u00a0indifference, which was suggestive of perfect unconcern. The fellow was\u00a0oriental to the finger-tips,–that much was certain; yet in spite of a\u00a0pretty wide personal knowledge of oriental people I could not make up\u00a0my mind as to the exact part of the east from which he came. He was\u00a0hardly an Arab, he was not a fellah,–he was not, unless I erred, a\u00a0Mohammedan at all. There was something about him which was distinctly\u00a0not Mussulmanic. So far as looks were concerned, he was not a\u00a0flattering example of his race, whatever his race might be. The\u00a0portentous size of his beak-like nose would have been, in itself,\u00a0sufficient to damn him in any court of beauty. His lips were thick and\u00a0shapeless,–and this, joined to another peculiarity in his appearance,\u00a0seemed to suggest that, in his veins there ran more than a streak of\u00a0negro blood. The peculiarity alluded to was his semblance of great age.\u00a0As one eyed him one was reminded of the legends told of people who have\u00a0been supposed to have retained something of their pristine vigour after\u00a0having lived for centuries. As, however, one continued to gaze, one\u00a0began to wonder if he really was so old as he seemed,–if, indeed, he\u00a0was exceptionally old at all. Negroes, and especially negresses, are\u00a0apt to age with extreme rapidity. Among coloured folk one sometimes\u00a0encounters women whose faces seem to have been lined by the passage of\u00a0centuries, yet whose actual tale of years would entitle them to regard\u00a0themselves, here in England, as in the prime of life. The senility of\u00a0the fellow’s countenance, besides, was contradicted by the juvenescence\u00a0of his eyes. No really old man could have had eyes like that. They were\u00a0curiously shaped, reminding me of the elongated, faceted eyes of some\u00a0queer creature, with whose appearance I was familiar, although I could\u00a0not, at the instant, recall its name. They glowed not only with the\u00a0force and fire, but, also, with the frenzy of youth. More\u00a0uncanny-looking eyes I had never encountered,–their possessor could\u00a0not be, in any sense of the word, a clubable person. Owing, probably,\u00a0to some peculiar formation of the optic-nerve one felt, as one met his\u00a0gaze, that he was looking right through you. More obvious danger\u00a0signals never yet were placed in a creature’s head. The individual who,\u00a0having once caught sight of him, still sought to cultivate their\u00a0owner’s acquaintance, had only himself to thank if the very worst\u00a0results of frequenting evil company promptly ensued.<\/p>\n
It happens that I am myself endowed with an unusual tenacity of vision.\u00a0I could, for instance, easily outstare any man I ever met. Yet, as I\u00a0continued to stare at this man, I was conscious that it was only by an\u00a0effort of will that I was able to resist a baleful something which\u00a0seemed to be passing from his eyes to mine. It might have been\u00a0imagination, but, in that sense, I am not an imaginative man; and, if\u00a0it was, it was imagination of an unpleasantly vivid kind. I could\u00a0understand how, in the case of a nervous, or a sensitive temperament,\u00a0the fellow might exercise, by means of the peculiar quality of his\u00a0glance alone, an influence of a most disastrous sort, which given an\u00a0appropriate subject in the manifestation of its power might approach\u00a0almost to the supernatural. If ever man was endowed with the\u00a0traditional evil eye, in which Italians, among modern nations, are such\u00a0profound believers, it was he.<\/p>\n
When we had stared at each other for, I daresay, quite five minutes, I\u00a0began to think I had had about enough of it. So, by way of breaking the\u00a0ice, I put to him a question.<\/p>\n
‘May I ask how you found your way into my back yard?’<\/p>\n
He did not reply in words, but, raising his hands he lowered them,\u00a0palms downward, with a gesture which was peculiarly oriental.<\/p>\n
‘Indeed?–Is that so?–Your meaning may be lucidity itself to you, but,\u00a0for my benefit, perhaps you would not mind translating it into words.\u00a0Once more I ask, how did you find your way into my back yard?’<\/p>\n
Again nothing but the gesture.<\/p>\n
‘Possibly you are not sufficiently acquainted with English manners and\u00a0customs to be aware that you have placed yourself within reach of the\u00a0pains and penalties of the law. Were I to call in the police you would\u00a0find yourself in an awkward situation,–and, unless you are presently\u00a0more explanatory, called in they will be.’<\/p>\n
By way of answer he indulged in a distortion of the countenance which\u00a0might have been meant for a smile,–and which seemed to suggest that he\u00a0regarded the police with a contempt which was too great for words.<\/p>\n
‘Why do you laugh–do you think that being threatened with the police\u00a0is a joke? You are not likely to find it so.–Have you suddenly been\u00a0bereft of the use of your tongue?’<\/p>\n
He proved that he had not by using it.<\/p>\n
‘I have still the use of my tongue.’<\/p>\n
‘That, at least, is something. Perhaps, since the subject of how you\u00a0got into my back yard seems to be a delicate one, you will tell me why\u00a0you got there.’<\/p>\n
‘You know why I have come.’<\/p>\n
‘Pardon me if I appear to flatly contradict you, but that is precisely\u00a0what I do not know.’<\/p>\n
‘You do know.’<\/p>\n
‘Do I?–Then, in that case, I presume that you are here for the reason\u00a0which appears upon the surface,–to commit a felony.’<\/p>\n
‘You call me thief?’<\/p>\n
‘What else are you?’<\/p>\n
‘I am no thief.–You know why I have come.’<\/p>\n
He raised his head a little. A look came into his eyes which I felt\u00a0that I ought to understand, yet to the meaning of which I seemed, for\u00a0the instant, to have mislaid the key. I shrugged my shoulders.<\/p>\n
‘I have come because you wanted me.’<\/p>\n
‘Because I wanted you!–On my word!–That’s sublime!’<\/p>\n
‘All night you have wanted me,–do I not know? When she talked to you\u00a0of him, and the blood boiled in your veins; when he spoke, and all the\u00a0people listened, and you hated him, because he had honour in her eyes.’<\/p>\n
I was startled. Either he meant what it appeared incredible that he\u00a0could mean, or–there was confusion somewhere.<\/p>\n
‘Take my advice, my friend, and don’t try to come the bunco-steerer\u00a0over me,–I’m a bit in that line myself, you know.’<\/p>\n
This time the score was mine,–he was puzzled.<\/p>\n
‘I know not what you talk of.’<\/p>\n
‘In that case, we’re equal,–I know not what you talk of either.’<\/p>\n
His manner, for him, was childlike and bland.<\/p>\n
‘What is it you do not know? This morning did I not say,–if you want\u00a0me, then I come?’<\/p>\n
‘I fancy I have some faint recollection of your being so good as to say\u00a0something of the kind, but–where’s the application?’<\/p>\n
‘Do you not feel for him the same as I?’<\/p>\n
‘Who’s the him?’<\/p>\n
‘Paul Lessingham.’<\/p>\n
It was spoken quietly, but with a degree of–to put it\u00a0gently–spitefulness which showed that at least the will to do the\u00a0Apostle harm would not be lacking.<\/p>\n
‘And, pray, what is the common feeling which we have for him?’<\/p>\n
‘Hate.’<\/p>\n
Plainly, with this gentleman, hate meant hate,–in the solid oriental\u00a0sense. I should hardly have been surprised if the mere utterance of the\u00a0words had seared his lips.<\/p>\n
‘I am by no means prepared to admit that I have this feeling which you\u00a0attribute to me, but, even granting that I have, what then?’<\/p>\n
‘Those who hate are kin.’<\/p>\n
‘That, also, I should be slow to admit; but–to go a step farther–what\u00a0has all this to do with your presence on my premises at this hour of\u00a0the night?’<\/p>\n
‘You love her.’ This time I did not ask him to supply the name,–being\u00a0unwilling that it should be soiled by the traffic of his lips. ‘She\u00a0loves him,–that is not well. If you choose, she shall love you,–that\u00a0will be well.’<\/p>\n
‘Indeed.–And pray how is this consummation which is so devoutly to be\u00a0desired to be brought about?’<\/p>\n
‘Put your hand into mine. Say that you wish it. It shall be done.’<\/p>\n
Moving a step forward, he stretched out his hand towards me. I\u00a0hesitated. There was that in the fellow’s manner which, for the moment,\u00a0had for me an unwholesome fascination. Memories flashed through my mind\u00a0of stupid stories which have been told of compacts made with the devil.\u00a0I almost felt as if I was standing in the actual presence of one of the\u00a0powers of evil. I thought of my love for Marjorie,–which had revealed\u00a0itself after all these years; of the delight of holding her in my arms,\u00a0of feeling the pressure of her lips to mine. As my gaze met his, the\u00a0lower side of what the conquest of this fair lady would mean, burned in\u00a0my brain; fierce imaginings blazed before my eyes. To win her,–only to\u00a0win her!<\/p>\n
What nonsense he was talking! What empty brag it was! Suppose, just for\u00a0the sake of the joke, I did put my hand in his, and did wish, right\u00a0out, what it was plain he knew. If I wished, what harm would it do! It\u00a0would be the purest jest. Out of his own mouth he would be confounded,\u00a0for it was certain that nothing would come of it. Why should I not do\u00a0it then?<\/p>\n
I would act on his suggestion,–I would carry the thing right through.\u00a0Already I was advancing towards him, when–I stopped. I don’t know why.\u00a0On the instant, my thoughts went off at a tangent.<\/p>\n
What sort of a blackguard did I call myself that I should take a\u00a0woman’s name in vain for the sake of playing fool’s tricks with such\u00a0scum of the earth as the hideous vagabond in front of me,–and that the\u00a0name of the woman whom I loved? Rage took hold of me.<\/p>\n
‘You hound!’ I cried.<\/p>\n
In my sudden passage from one mood to another, I was filled with the\u00a0desire to shake the life half out of him. But so soon as I moved a step\u00a0in his direction, intending war instead of peace, he altered the\u00a0position of his hand, holding it out towards me as if forbidding my\u00a0approach. Directly he did so, quite involuntarily, I pulled up\u00a0dead,–as if my progress had been stayed by bars of iron and walls of\u00a0steel.<\/p>\n
For the moment, I was astonished to the verge of stupefaction. The\u00a0sensation was peculiar. I was as incapable of advancing another inch in\u00a0his direction as if I had lost the use of my limbs,–I was even\u00a0incapable of attempting to attempt to advance. At first I could only\u00a0stare and gape. Presently I began to have an inkling of what had\u00a0happened.<\/p>\n
The scoundrel had almost succeeded in hypnotising me.<\/p>\n
That was a nice thing to happen to a man of my sort at my time of life.\u00a0A shiver went down my back,–what might have occurred if I had not\u00a0pulled up in time! What pranks might a creature of that character not\u00a0have been disposed to play. It was the old story of the peril of\u00a0playing with edged tools; I had made the dangerous mistake of\u00a0underrating the enemy’s strength. Evidently, in his own line, the\u00a0fellow was altogether something out of the usual way.<\/p>\n
I believe that even as it was he thought he had me. As I turned away,\u00a0and leaned against the table at my back, I fancy that he shivered,–as\u00a0if this proof of my being still my own master was unexpected. I was\u00a0silent,–it took some seconds to enable me to recover from the shock of\u00a0the discovery of the peril in which I had been standing. Then I\u00a0resolved that I would endeavour to do something which should make me\u00a0equal to this gentleman of many talents.<\/p>\n
‘Take my advice, my friend, and don’t attempt to play that hankey\u00a0pankey off on to me again.’<\/p>\n
‘I don’t know what you talk of.’<\/p>\n
‘Don’t lie to me,–or I’ll burn you into ashes.’<\/p>\n
Behind me was an electrical machine, giving an eighteen inch spark. It\u00a0was set in motion by a lever fitted into the table, which I could\u00a0easily reach from where I sat. As I spoke the visitor was treated to a\u00a0little exhibition of electricity. The change in his bearing was\u00a0amusing. He shook with terror. He salaamed down to the ground.<\/p>\n
‘My lord!–my lord!–have mercy, oh my lord!’<\/p>\n
‘Then you be careful, that’s all. You may suppose yourself to be\u00a0something of a magician, but it happens, unfortunately for you, that I\u00a0can do a bit in that line myself,–perhaps I’m a trifle better at the\u00a0game than you are. Especially as you have ventured into my stronghold,\u00a0which contains magic enough to make a show of a hundred thousand such\u00a0as you.’<\/p>\n
Taking down a bottle from a shelf, I sprinkled a drop or two of its\u00a0contents on the floor. Immediately flames arose, accompanied by a\u00a0blinding vapour. It was a sufficiently simple illustration of one of\u00a0the qualities of phosphorous-bromide, but its effect upon my visitor\u00a0was as startling as it was unexpected. If I could believe the evidence\u00a0of my own eyesight, in the very act of giving utterance to a scream of\u00a0terror he disappeared, how, or why, or whither, there was nothing to\u00a0show,–in his place, where he had been standing, there seemed to be a\u00a0dim object of some sort in a state of frenzied agitation on the floor.\u00a0The phosphorescent vapour was confusing; the lights appeared to be\u00a0suddenly burning low; before I had sense enough to go and see if there\u00a0was anything there, and, if so, what, the flames had vanished, the man\u00a0himself had reappeared, and, prostrated on his knees, was salaaming in\u00a0a condition of abject terror.<\/p>\n
‘My lord! my lord!’ he whined. ‘I entreat you, my lord, to use me as\u00a0your slave!’<\/p>\n
‘I’ll use you as my slave!’ Whether he or I was the more agitated it\u00a0would have been difficult to say,–but, at least, it would not have\u00a0done to betray my feelings as he did his.<\/p>\n
‘Stand up!’<\/p>\n
He stood up. I eyed him as he did with an interest which, so far as I\u00a0was concerned, was of a distinctly new and original sort. Whether or\u00a0not I had been the victim of an ocular delusion I could not be sure. It\u00a0was incredible to suppose that he could have disappeared as he had\u00a0seemed to disappear,–it was also incredible that I could have imagined\u00a0his disappearance. If the thing had been a trick, I had not the\u00a0faintest notion how it had been worked; and, if it was not a trick,\u00a0then what was it? Was it something new in scientific marvels? Could he\u00a0give me as much instruction in the qualities of unknown forces as I\u00a0could him?<\/p>\n
In the meanwhile he stood in an attitude of complete submission, with\u00a0downcast eyes, and hands crossed upon his breast. I started to\u00a0cross-examine him.<\/p>\n
‘I am going to ask you some questions. So long as you answer them\u00a0promptly, truthfully, you will be safe. Otherwise you had best beware.’<\/p>\n
‘Ask, oh my lord.’<\/p>\n
‘What is the nature of your objection to Mr Lessingham?’<\/p>\n
‘Revenge.’<\/p>\n
‘What has he done to you that you should wish to be revenged on him?’<\/p>\n
‘It is the feud of the innocent blood.’<\/p>\n
‘What do you mean by that?’<\/p>\n
‘On his hands is the blood of my kin. It cries aloud for vengeance.’<\/p>\n
‘Who has he killed?’<\/p>\n
‘That, my lord, is for me,–and for him.’<\/p>\n
‘I see.–Am I to understand that you do not choose to answer me, and\u00a0that I am again to use my–magic?’<\/p>\n
I saw that he quivered.<\/p>\n
‘My lord, he has spilled the blood of her who has lain upon his breast.’<\/p>\n
I hesitated. What he meant appeared clear enough. Perhaps it would be\u00a0as well not to press for further details. The words pointed to what it\u00a0might be courteous to call an Eastern Romance,–though it was hard to\u00a0conceive of the Apostle figuring as the hero of such a theme. It was\u00a0the old tale retold, that to the life of every man there is a\u00a0background,–that it is precisely in the unlikeliest cases that the\u00a0background’s darkest. What would that penny-plain-and-twopence-coloured\u00a0bogey, the Nonconformist Conscience, make of such a story if it were\u00a0blazoned through the land. Would Paul not come down with a run?<\/p>\n
‘”Spilling blood” is a figure of speech; pretty, perhaps, but vague. If\u00a0you mean that Mr Lessingham has been killing someone, your surest and\u00a0most effectual revenge would be gained by an appeal to the law.’<\/p>\n
‘What has the Englishman’s law to do with me?’<\/p>\n
‘If you can prove that he has been guilty of murder it would have a\u00a0great deal to do with you. I assure you that at any rate, in that\u00a0sense, the Englishman’s law is no respecter of persons. Show him to be\u00a0guilty, and it would hang Paul Lessingham as indifferently, and as\u00a0cheerfully, as it would hang Bill Brown.’<\/p>\n
‘Is that so?’<\/p>\n
‘It is so, as, if you choose, you will be easily able to prove to your\u00a0own entire satisfaction.’<\/p>\n
He had raised his head, and was looking at something which he seemed to\u00a0see in front of him with a maleficent glare in his sensitive eyes which\u00a0it was not nice to see.<\/p>\n
‘He would be shamed?’<\/p>\n
‘Indeed he would be shamed.’<\/p>\n
‘Before all men?’<\/p>\n
‘Before all men,–and, I take it, before all women too.’<\/p>\n
‘And he would hang?’<\/p>\n
‘If shown to have been guilty of wilful murder,–yes.’<\/p>\n
His hideous face was lighted up by a sort of diabolical exultation\u00a0which made it, if that were possible, more hideous still. I had\u00a0apparently given him a wrinkle which pleased him most consummately.<\/p>\n
‘Perhaps I will do that in the end,–in the end!’ He opened his eyes to\u00a0their widest limits, then shut them tight,–as if to gloat on the\u00a0picture which his fancy painted. Then reopened them. ‘In the meantime I\u00a0will have vengeance in my own fashion. He knows already that the\u00a0avenger is upon him,–he has good reason to know it. And through the\u00a0days and the nights the knowledge shall be with him still, and it shall\u00a0be to him as the bitterness of death,–aye, of many deaths. For he will\u00a0know that escape there is none, and that for him there shall be no more\u00a0sun in the sky, and that the terror shall be with him by night and by\u00a0day, at his rising up and at his lying down, wherever his eyes shall\u00a0turn it shall be there,–yet, behold, the sap and the juice of my\u00a0vengeance is in this, in that though he shall be very sure that the\u00a0days that are, are as the days of his death, yet shall he know that THE\u00a0DEATH, THE GREAT DEATH, is coming–coming–and shall be on him–when I\u00a0will!’<\/p>\n
The fellow spoke like an inspired maniac. If he meant half what he\u00a0said,–and if he did not then his looks and his tones belied him!–then\u00a0a promising future bade fair to be in store for Mr Lessingham,–and,\u00a0also, circumstances being as they were, for Marjorie. It was this\u00a0latter reflection which gave me pause. Either this imprecatory fanatic\u00a0would have to be disposed of, by Lessingham himself, or by someone\u00a0acting on his behalf, and, so far as their power of doing mischief\u00a0went, his big words proved empty windbags, or Marjorie would have to be\u00a0warned that there was at least one passage in her suitor’s life, into\u00a0which, ere it was too late, it was advisable that inquiry should be\u00a0made. To allow Marjorie to irrevocably link her fate with the\u00a0Apostle’s, without being first of all made aware that he was, to all\u00a0intents and purposes, a haunted man–that was not to be thought of.<\/p>\n
‘You employ large phrases.’<\/p>\n
My words cooled the other’s heated blood. Once more his eyes were cast\u00a0down, his hands crossed upon his breast<\/p>\n
‘I crave my lord’s pardon. My wound is ever new.’<\/p>\n
‘By the way, what was the secret history, this morning, of that little\u00a0incident of the cockroach?’<\/p>\n
He glanced up quickly.<\/p>\n
‘Cockroach?–I know not what you say.’<\/p>\n
‘Well,–was it beetle, then?’<\/p>\n
‘Beetle!’<\/p>\n
He seemed, all at once, to have lost his voice,–the word was gasped.<\/p>\n
‘After you went we found, upon a sheet of paper, a capitally executed\u00a0drawing of a beetle, which, I fancy, you must have left behind\u00a0you,–Scaraboeus sacer, wasn’t it?’<\/p>\n
‘I know not what you talk of.’<\/p>\n
‘Its discovery seemed to have quite a singular effect on Mr Lessingham.\u00a0Now, why was that?’<\/p>\n
‘I know nothing.’<\/p>\n
‘Oh yes you do,–and, before you go, I mean to know something too.’<\/p>\n
The man was trembling, looking this way and that, showing signs of\u00a0marked discomfiture. That there was something about that ancient\u00a0scarab, which figures so largely in the still unravelled tangles of the\u00a0Egyptian mythologies, and the effect which the mere sight of its\u00a0cartouch–for the drawing had resembled something of the kind–had had\u00a0on such a seasoned vessel as Paul Lessingham, which might be well worth\u00a0my finding out, I felt convinced,–the man’s demeanour, on my recurring\u00a0to the matter, told its own plain tale. I made up my mind, if possible,\u00a0to probe the business to the bottom, then and there.<\/p>\n
‘Listen to me, my friend. I am a plain man, and I use plain\u00a0speech,–it’s a kind of hobby I have. You will give me the information\u00a0I require, and that at once, or I will pit my magic against yours,–in\u00a0which case I think it extremely probable that you will come off worst\u00a0from the encounter.’<\/p>\n
I reached out for the lever, and the exhibition of electricity\u00a0recommenced. Immediately his tremors were redoubled.<\/p>\n
‘My lord, I know not of what you talk.’<\/p>\n
‘None of your lies for me.–Tell me why, at the sight of the thing on\u00a0that sheet of paper, Paul Lessingham went green and yellow.’<\/p>\n
‘Ask him, my lord.’<\/p>\n
‘Probably, later on, that is what I shall do. In the meantime, I am\u00a0asking you. Answer,–or look out for squalls.’<\/p>\n
The electrical exhibition was going on. He was glaring at it as if he\u00a0wished that it would stop. As if ashamed of his cowardice, plainly, on\u00a0a sudden, he made a desperate effort to get the better of his\u00a0fears,–and succeeded better than I had expected or desired. He drew\u00a0himself up with what, in him, amounted to an air of dignity.<\/p>\n
‘I am a child of Isis!’<\/p>\n
It struck me that he made this remark, not so much to impress me, as\u00a0with a view of elevating his own low spirits,<\/p>\n
‘Are you?–Then, in that case, I regret that I am unable to\u00a0congratulate the lady on her offspring.’<\/p>\n
When I said that, a ring came into his voice which I had not heard\u00a0before.<\/p>\n
‘Silence!–You know not of what you speak!–I warn you, as I warned\u00a0Paul Lessingham, be careful not to go too far. Be not like him,–heed\u00a0my warning.’<\/p>\n
‘What is it I am being warned against,–the beetle?’<\/p>\n
‘Yes,–the beetle!’<\/p>\n
Were I upon oath, and this statement being made, in the presence of\u00a0witnesses, say, in a solicitor’s office, I standing in fear of pains\u00a0and penalties, I think that, at this point, I should leave the paper\u00a0blank. No man likes to own himself a fool, or that he ever was a\u00a0fool,–and ever since I have been wondering whether, on that occasion,\u00a0that ‘child of Isis’ did, or did not, play the fool with me. His\u00a0performance was realistic enough at the time, heaven knows. But, as it\u00a0gets farther and farther away, I ask myself, more and more confidently,\u00a0as time effluxes, whether, after all, it was not clever\u00a0juggling,–superhumanly clever juggling, if you will; that, and nothing\u00a0more. If it was something more, then, with a vengeance! there is more\u00a0in heaven and earth than is dreamed of in our philosophy. The mere\u00a0possibility opens vistas which the sane mind fears to contemplate.<\/p>\n
Since, then, I am not on oath, and, should I fall short of verbal\u00a0accuracy, I do not need to fear the engines of the law, what seemed to\u00a0happen was this.<\/p>\n
He was standing within about ten feet of where I leaned against the\u00a0edge of the table. The light was full on, so that it was difficult to\u00a0suppose that I could make a mistake as to what took place in front of\u00a0me. As he replied to my mocking allusion to the beetle by echoing my\u00a0own words, he vanished,–or, rather, I saw him taking a different shape\u00a0before my eyes. His loose draperies all fell off him, and, as they were\u00a0in the very act of falling, there issued, or there seemed to issue out\u00a0of them, a monstrous creature of the beetle type,–the man himself was\u00a0gone. On the point of size I wish to make myself clear. My impression,\u00a0when I saw it first, was that it was as large as the man had been, and\u00a0that it was, in some way, standing up on end, the legs towards me. But,\u00a0the moment it came in view, it began to dwindle, and that so rapidly\u00a0that, in a couple of seconds at most, a little heap of drapery was\u00a0lying on the floor, on which was a truly astonishing example of the\u00a0coleoptera. It appeared to be a beetle. It was, perhaps, six or seven\u00a0inches high, and about a foot in length. Its scales were of a vivid\u00a0golden green. I could distinctly see where the wings were sheathed\u00a0along the back, and, as they seemed to be slightly agitated, I looked,\u00a0every moment, to see them opened, and the thing take wing.<\/p>\n
I was so astonished,–as who would not have been?–that for an\u00a0appreciable space of time I was practically in a state of stupefaction.\u00a0I could do nothing but stare. I was acquainted with the legendary\u00a0transmigrations of Isis, and with the story of the beetle which issues\u00a0from the woman’s womb through all eternity, and with the other pretty\u00a0tales, but this, of which I was an actual spectator, was something new,\u00a0even in legends. If the man, with whom I had just been speaking, was\u00a0gone, where had he gone to? If this glittering creature was there, in\u00a0his stead, whence had it come?<\/p>\n
I do protest this much, that, after the first shock of surprise had\u00a0passed, I retained my presence of mind. I felt as an investigator might\u00a0feel, who has stumbled, haphazard, on some astounding, some\u00a0epoch-making, discovery. I was conscious that I should have to make the\u00a0best use of my mental faculties if I was to take full advantage of so\u00a0astonishing an accident. I kept my glance riveted on the creature, with\u00a0the idea of photographing it on my brain. I believe that if it were\u00a0possible to take a retinal print–which it someday will be–you would\u00a0have a perfect picture of what it was I saw, Beyond doubt it was a\u00a0lamellicorn, one of the copridae. With the one exception of its\u00a0monstrous size, there were the characteristics in plain view;–the\u00a0convex body, the large head, the projecting clypeus. More, its smooth\u00a0head and throat seemed to suggest that it was a female. Equally beyond\u00a0a doubt, apart from its size, there were unusual features present too.\u00a0The eyes were not only unwontedly conspicuous, they gleamed as if they\u00a0were lighted by internal flames,–in some indescribable fashion they\u00a0reminded me of my vanished visitor. The colouring was superb, and the\u00a0creature appeared to have the chameleon-like faculty of lightening and\u00a0darkening the shades at will. Its not least curious feature was its\u00a0restlessness. It was in a state of continual agitation; and, as if it\u00a0resented my inspection, the more I looked at it the more its agitation\u00a0grew. As I have said, I expected every moment to see it take wing and\u00a0circle through the air.<\/p>\n
All the while I was casting about in my mind as to what means I could\u00a0use to effect its capture. I did think of killing it, and, on the\u00a0whole, I rather wish that I had at any rate attempted slaughter,–there\u00a0were dozens of things, lying ready to my hand, any one of which would\u00a0have severely tried its constitution;–but, on the spur of the moment,\u00a0the only method of taking it alive which occurred to me, was to pop\u00a0over it a big tin canister which had contained soda-lime. This canister\u00a0was on the floor to my left. I moved towards it, as nonchalantly as I\u00a0could, keeping an eye on that shining wonder all the time. Directly I\u00a0moved, its agitation perceptibly increased,–it was, so to speak, all\u00a0one whirr of tremblement; it scintillated, as if its coloured scales\u00a0had been so many prisms; it began to unsheath its wings, as if it had\u00a0finally decided that it would make use of them. Picking up the tin,\u00a0disembarrassing it of its lid, I sprang towards my intended victim. Its\u00a0wings opened wide; obviously it was about to rise; but it was too late.\u00a0Before it had cleared the ground, the tin was over it.<\/p>\n
It remained over it, however, for an instant only. I had stumbled, in\u00a0my haste, and, in my effort to save myself from falling face foremost\u00a0on to the floor, I was compelled to remove my hands from the tin.\u00a0Before I was able to replace them, the tin was sent flying, and, while\u00a0I was still partially recumbent, within eighteen inches of me, that\u00a0beetle swelled and swelled, until it had assumed its former portentous\u00a0dimensions, when, as it seemed, it was enveloped by a human shape, and\u00a0in less time than no time, there stood in front of me, naked from top\u00a0to toe, my truly versatile oriental friend. One startling fact nudity\u00a0revealed,–that I had been egregiously mistaken on the question of sex.\u00a0My visitor was not a man, but a woman, and, judging from the brief\u00a0glimpse which I had of her body, by no means old or ill-shaped either.<\/p>\n
If that transformation was not a bewildering one, then two and two make\u00a0five. The most level-headed scientist would temporarily have lost his\u00a0mental equipoise on witnessing such a quick change as that within a\u00a0span or two of his own nose I was not only witless, I was breathless\u00a0too,–I could only gape. And, while I gaped, the woman, stooping down,\u00a0picking up her draperies, began to huddle them on her anyhow,–and,\u00a0also, to skeddadle towards the door which led into the yard. When I\u00a0observed this last manoeuvre, to some extent I did rise to the\u00a0requirements of the situation. Leaping up, I rushed to stay her flight.<\/p>\n
‘Stop!’ I shouted.<\/p>\n
But she was too quick for me. Ere I could reach her, she had opened the\u00a0door, and was through it,–and, what was more, she had slammed it in my\u00a0face. In my excitement, I did some fumbling with the handle. When, in\u00a0my turn, I was in the yard, she was out of sight. I did fancy I saw a\u00a0dim form disappearing over the wall at the further side, and I made for\u00a0it as fast as I knew how. I clambered on to the wall, looking this way\u00a0and that, but there was nothing and no one to be seen. I listened for\u00a0the sound of retreating footsteps, but all was still. Apparently I had\u00a0the entire neighbourhood to my own sweet self. My visitor had vanished.\u00a0Time devoted to pursuit I felt would be time ill-spent.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":251,"menu_order":4,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":["richard-marsh"],"pb_section_license":"public-domain"},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[61],"license":[50],"class_list":["post-38","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless","contributor-richard-marsh","license-public-domain"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/38","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/251"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/38\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":78,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/38\/revisions\/78"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/38\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=38"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=38"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=38"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/victoriananthology\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=38"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}