diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-23 04:50:21 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-23 04:50:21 -0800 |
| commit | 132fccc30b38cc665f22a3963e62e4fac6dca917 (patch) | |
| tree | 9fcb04d66c8fcc3931753bdc35ddd14d24272b01 | |
| parent | d4736bf1065755231059952646a8f10377a1ca56 (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64997-0.txt | 11372 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64997-0.zip | bin | 202246 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64997-h.zip | bin | 358754 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64997-h/64997-h.htm | 16322 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64997-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 152036 -> 0 bytes |
8 files changed, 17 insertions, 27694 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, 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. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc5f4f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64997 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64997) diff --git a/old/64997-0.txt b/old/64997-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f5d4b7b..0000000 --- a/old/64997-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11372 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Joss: A Reversion, by Richard Marsh - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Joss: A Reversion - -Author: Richard Marsh - -Release Date: April 05, 2021 [eBook #64997] -[Last updated June 5, 2022] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JOSS: A REVERSION *** - - - - - THE JOSS: A REVERSION - - A Novel - - By - _RICHARD MARSH_ - - - LONDON - F. V. WHITE & CO. - 14, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. - 1901 - - - - - CONTENTS. - - BOOK I. - UNCLE BENJAMIN. - (Mary Blyth Tells the Story.) - - I.--Firandolo’s - II.--Locked Out - III.--The Doll - IV.--An Interview with Mr. Slaughter - V.--The Missionary’s Letter - VI.--Sole Residuary Legatee - VII.--Entering into Possession - VIII.--The Back-door Key - - BOOK II. - 84, CAMFORD STREET. - (The Facts of the Case According to Emily Purvis.) - - IX.--Max Lander - X.--Between 13 and 14, Rosemary Street - XI.--One Way In - XII.--The Shutting of a Door - XIII.--A Vision of the Night - XIV.--Susie - XV.--An Ultimatum - XVI.--The Noise which Came from the Passage - - BOOK III. - THE GOD OF FORTUNE. - (Mr. Frank Paine Tells the Story of his Association with the - Testamentary Dispositions of Mr. Benjamin Batters.) - - XVII.--The Affair of the Freak - XVIII.--Counsel’s Opinion - XIX.--The Reticence of Captain Lander - XX.--My Client: and Her Friend - XXI.--The Agitation of Miss Purvis - XXII.--Luke - XXIII.--The Trio Return - XXIV.--The God Out of the Machine - - BOOK IV. - THE JOSS. - (Captain Max Lander Sets Forth the Curious Adventure which Marked the - Voyage of “The Flying Scud.”) - - XXV.--Luke’s Suggestion - XXVI.--The Throne in the Centre - XXVII.--The Offerings of the Faithful - XXVIII.--The Joss Reverts - XXIX.--The Father--and His Child - XXX.--The Morning’s News - XXXI.--The Termination of the Voyage of the “Flying Scud” - XXXII.--The Little Discussion Between the Several Parties - XXXIII.--In the Presence - - BOOK V. - AUTHOR’S POSTSCRIPT. - - XXXIV.--How Matters Stand To-day - - - - - THE JOSS: A REVERSION. - - - - BOOK I. - UNCLE BENJAMIN. - - (MARY BLYTH TELLS THE STORY.) - - - - CHAPTER I. - FIRANDOLO’S. - -I had had an aggravating day. In everything luck had been against -me. I had got down late, and been fined for that. Then when I went -into the shop I found I had forgotten my cuffs, and Mr. Broadley, who -walks the fancy department, marked me sixpence for that. Just as I was -expecting my call for dinner an old lady came in who kept me fussing -about till my set came up--and only spent three and two-three after -all; so when I did go down alone there was nothing left; and what was -left was worse than cold. Though I was as hungry as I very well could -be I could scarcely swallow as much as a mouthful; lukewarm boiled -mutton cased in solidified fat is not what I care for. Directly after -I came up, feeling hungrier than ever, Miss Patten did me out of the -sale of a lot of sequin trimming on which there was a ninepenny spiff. -I was showing it to a customer, and before I had had half a chance she -came and took it clean out of my hands, and sold it right away. It -made me crosser than ever. To crown it all, I missed three sales. One -lady wanted a veil, and because we had not just the sort she wanted, -when she walked out of the shop Mr. Broadley seemed to think it was my -fault. He said he would mark me. When some people want a triangular -spot you cannot put them off with a round one. It is no use your -saying you can. And so I as good as told him. - -Not twenty minutes afterwards a girl came in--a mere chit--who wanted -some passementerie, beaded. She had brought a pattern. Somehow -directly I saw it I thought there would be trouble. I hunted through -the stock and found the thing exactly, only there were blue beads -where there ought to have been green. As there were a dozen different -coloured beads it did not really matter, especially as ours were a -green blue, and hers were a blue green. But that chit would not see -it. She would not admit that it was a match. When I called Mr. -Broadley, and he pointed out to her that the two were so much alike -that, at a little distance, you could not tell one from the other, she -was quite short. She caught up her old pattern and took herself away. -Then Mr. Broadley gave it to me hot. He reminded me that that was two -sales I had missed, and that three, on one day, meant dismissal. I did -not suppose they would go so far as that, but I did expect that, if I -missed again, it would cost me half-a-crown, at least. So, of course, -there was I, as it were, on tenterhooks, resolved that rather than I -would let anyone else go without a purchase I would force some -elevenpence three-farthing thing on her; if I had to pay for it -myself. And there was Mr. Broadley hanging about just by my stand, -watching me so that I felt I should like to stick my scissors into -him. - -But I was doomed to be done. Luck was clean against me. Just as we -were getting ready to close in came an old woman--one of your -red-faced sort, with her bonnet a little on one side of her head. She -wanted some torchon lace. Now, strictly speaking, lace is not in my -department, but as we are all supposed to serve through, and most of -the others were engaged--it is extraordinary how, some nights, people -will crowd into the shop just as we are getting ready to close--Mr. -Broadley planted her on me. She was a nice old party. She did not know -herself what she wanted, but seemed to think I ought to. So far as I -could make out, what she really did want was a four shilling lace at -fourpence--which we could not exactly supply. At last I called Mr. -Broadley to see if he could make her out. On which she actually turned -huffy, and declaring that I would not take the trouble to show her -anything at all, in spite of all that we could do or say, she marched -straight out. Then I had a wigging. Broadley let himself go, before -them all. I could have cried--and almost did. - -I was three-quarters of an hour late before I got into the street. -Emily Purvis was tired of waiting, and Tom Cooper was in a red-hot -rage. - -“My dear,” began Emily, directly she saw me, “I hope you haven’t -hurried. We’re only frozen to the bone.” - -“That’s all right,” said Tom. “It’s just the sort of night to hang -about this confounded corner.” - -It was disagreeable weather. There was a nasty east wind, which seemed -to cut right into one, and the pavements were wet and slimy. It all -seemed of a piece. I knew Tom’s overcoat was not too thick, nor -Emily’s jacket too warm either. When I saw Tom dancing about to keep -himself warm, all at once something seemed to go over me, and I had to -cry. Then there was a pretty fuss. - -“Polly!” exclaimed Emily. “Whatever is the matter with you now?” - -And there, in the open street, Tom put his arm about my waist. I told -them all about it. You should have heard how they went on at Broadley. -It did me good to listen, though I knew it would make no difference to -him. They had not had the best of luck either. It seemed that it had -been one of those days on which everything goes wrong with everyone. -Emily had not got one single spiff, and Tom had had a quarrel with -young Clarkson, who had called him Ginger to his face--and the colour -of his hair is a frightfully delicate point with Tom. Tom had -threatened to punch his head when they went upstairs. I begged and -prayed him not to, but there was a gloomy air about him which showed -that he would have to do something to relieve his feelings. I felt -that punching young Clarkson’s head might do him good--and Clarkson no -particular harm. - -I do not think that either of us was particularly happy. The streets -were nearly deserted. It was bitterly cold. Every now and then a -splash of rain was driven into our faces. - -“This is, for us, the age of romance,” declared Emily. “You mightn’t -think so, but it is. At our age, the world should be alive with -romance. We should be steeped in its atmosphere; drink it in with -every breath. It should colour both our sleeping and our waking hours. -And, instead of that, here we are shivering in this filthy horrid -street.” - -That was the way she was fond of talking. She was a very clever girl, -was Emily, and could use big words more easily than I could little -ones. She would have it that romance was the only thing worth living -for, and that, as there is no romance in the world to-day, it is not -worth while one’s living. I could not quite make out her argument, but -that was what it came to so far as I could understand. I wished myself -that there was a little more fun about. I was tired of the drapery. - -“Shivering!” said Tom. “I’m not only shivering; I’m hungry too. Boiled -mutton days I always am.” - -“Hungry!” I cried. “I’m starving. I’ve had no dinner or tea, and I’m -ready to drop.” - -“No! You don’t mean that?” - -I did mean it, and so I told him. What with having had nothing to eat, -and being tired, and worried, and cold, it was all I could do to drag -one foot after another. I just felt as if I was going to be ill. I -could have kept on crying all the time. - -“Have either of you got any money?” asked Tom. Neither Emily nor I had -a penny. “Then I’ll tell you what I’ll do; we’ll all three of us go -into Firandolo’s, and I’ll stand Sam.” - -I knew he had only enough money to take him home on Sunday, because he -had told me so himself the day before. Cardew & Slaughter’s is not the -sort of place where they encourage you to spend Sunday in. He had been -in last Sunday; and to stop in two Sundays running was to get yourself -disliked; I have spent many a Sunday, loitering about the parks and -the streets, living on a couple of buns, rather than go in to what -they called dinner. And I knew that if we once set foot in Firandolo’s -we should spend all he had. Yet I was so faint and hungry that I did -not want much pressing. I could not find it in my heart to refuse. - -Firandolo’s is something like a restaurant. Including vegetables, and -sweets, and cheese, I have counted sixty-seven dishes on the bill of -fare at one time, so that you have plenty of choice. For a shilling -you can get a perfectly splendid dinner. And for sixpence you can get -soup, and bread and cheese and butter; and they bring you the soup in -a silver basin which is full to the brim. - -At night it is generally crowded, but it was perhaps because the -weather was so bad that there were only a few persons in the place -when we went in. Directly after we entered someone else came in. He -was a big man, and wore a reefer coat and a bowler hat. Seating -himself at a table immediately opposite ours, taking off his hat, he -wiped his forehead with an old bandanna handkerchief; though what -there was to make him warm on a night like that was more than I could -say. He had a fringe of iron-grey hair all round his head on a level -with his ears. It stood out stiffly, like a sort of crown. Above and -below it he was bald. He wore a bristly moustache, and his eyes were -almost hidden by the bushiest eyebrows I had ever seen. I could not -help noticing him, because I had a kind of fancy that he had been -following us for some time. Unless I was mistaken he had passed me -just as I had come out of Cardew & Slaughter’s; and ever since, -whenever I looked round, I saw him somewhere behind us, as if he were -keeping us in sight. I said nothing about it to the others, but I -wondered, all the same. I did not like his looks at all. He seemed to -me to be both sly and impudent; and though he pretended not to be -watching us, I do not believe he took his eyes off us for a single -moment. - -I do not know what he had; he took a long time in choosing it, -whatever it was. We had soup. It was lovely. Hot and tasty; just the -very thing I wanted. It made me feel simply pounds better. But, after -we had finished, something dreadful happened. The bill came altogether -to one and three; we each of us had an extra bread. Tom felt in his -pocket for the money. First in one, then in another. Emily and I soon -saw that something was wrong, because he felt in every pocket he had. -And he looked so queer. - -“This is a bit of all right!” he gasped, just as we were beginning to -wonder if he was all pockets. “Blessed if I have a single copper on -me. I remember now that I left it in my box, so that I shouldn’t spend -it.” - -He looked at us, and we looked at him, and the waiter stood close by, -looking at us all. And behind him was the proprietor, also with an -observant eye. Emily and I were dumbfounded. Tom seemed as if he had -not another word to say. Just as the proprietor was beginning to come -closer, the stranger who had been following us got up and came to us -across the room, all the time keeping his eyes on me. - -“Pardon me if I take a liberty, but might I ask if I’m speaking to -Miss Blyth?” - -An odd voice he had; as if he were endeavouring to overcome its -natural huskiness by speaking in a whisper. Of course my name is -Blyth, and so I told him. But who he was I did not know from Adam. I -certainly had never set eyes on him before. He explained, in a -fashion; though his explanation came to nothing, after all. - -“I knew a--a relative of yours. A pal, he was, of mine; great pals was -him and me. So I naturally take an interest in a relative of his.” He -turned to Tom. “If so be, sir, as you’ve left your purse at home, -which is a kind of accident which might happen to any gentleman at any -time, perhaps I might be allowed to pay your little bill.” - -Tom had to allow him, though he liked it no more than I did. But we -none of us wanted to be sent to prison for obtaining soup on false -pretences, which I have been given to understand might have happened. -Though, for my part, I would almost as soon have done that as be -beholden to that big, bald-headed creature, who spoke as if he had -lost his voice, and was doing all he knew to find it. When he had paid -the one and three, and what were Tom’s feelings at seeing him do it -was more than I could think, because I know his pride, the stranger -came out with something else. - -“And now, ladies, might I offer you a little something on my own. What -do you say to a dozen oysters each, and a bottle of champagne? I -believe they’re things ladies are fond of.” - -He smiled--such a smile. It sounded tempting. I had never tasted -oysters and champagne; though, of course, I had read of them in books, -heaps of times. And it is my opinion that Emily would have said yes, -if I had given her a chance. But not me. I stood up directly. - -“Thank you; but I never touch oysters and champagne--at this time of -night.” - -“Might I--might I be allowed to offer a little something else. A Welsh -rarebit, shall we say?” - -Now, as it happens, a Welsh rarebit is a thing that I am fond of, -especially when eaten with a glass of stout. I was still hungry, and -my mouth watered at the prospect of some real nice, hot toasted -cheese. It needed some resolution to decline. But I did. Hungry as I -was, I felt as if I had had more than enough of him already. - -“I am obliged to you, but I want nothing else. I have had all that I -require.” - -It was not true; but it seemed to me that it was a case in which truth -would not exactly meet the situation. The stranger came close to me, -actually whispering in my ear. - -“May I hope, Miss Blyth, that you’ll remember me when--when you want a -friend?” - -I was as stand-offish as I could be. - -“I don’t see how I can remember you when I don’t even know your name.” - -He spoke to me across the back of his hand. - -“My name is Rudd--Isaac Rudd; known to my friends, of whom, the Lord -be praised, I’ve many, as Covey. It’s a--a term of endearment, so to -speak, Miss Blyth.” - -That anyone could apply a term of endearment to such a man as he -seemed to be, was more than I believed to be possible. - -“If you will let me take your address, Mr. Rudd, I will see that you -have your one and three.” - -“My address? Ah! Now there you have me. I don’t happen to have an--an -address just now. In fact, I’m--I’m moving.” - -We were going towards the door. I was beginning to fear that he -intended to accompany us home. Nor did I see how we could prevent him, -since he was at liberty to take such measures as he chose which would -ensure the return of the money he had paid for us. But, as we drew -near the entrance, he started back; and his demeanour changed in the -most extraordinary way. - -“Good-night,” he stammered, retreating farther and farther from us. -“Don’t--don’t let me keep you, not--not for another moment.” - -We went out. Directly we were in the open air Tom drew a long breath. - -“Geewhillikins! A nice scrape I nearly got you in, and myself as well. -A pretty hole we should have been in if that fellow hadn’t turned up -in the very nick of time. He’s the sort I call a friend in need with a -vengeance.” - -Emily struck in. - -“Polly, why wouldn’t you let us sample his oysters and champagne? -Considering he’s a friend of yours, you seemed pretty short with him.” - -“My dear, he’s not a friend of mine, nor ever could be; and as for his -oysters and champagne, they’d have choked me if I’d touched them.” - -“They wouldn’t have choked me, I can tell you that. There is some -romance in oysters and champagne, and, as you know very well, romance -is what I live for. There’s precious little comes my way; it seems -hard it should be snatched from my lips just as I have a chance of -tasting it.” - -“Hollo! Who on earth----” - -It was from Tom the exclamation came. He stopped short, with his -sentence uncompleted. I turned to see what had caused him to speak--to -find myself face to face with the most singular-looking individual I -had ever seen. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - LOCKED OUT. - -At first I could not make out if it was a man or woman or what it -was. But at last I decided that it was a man. I never saw such -clothes. Whether it was the darkness, or his costume, or what it was, -I cannot say, but he seemed to me to be surprisingly tall. And thin! -And old! Nothing less than a walking skeleton he seemed to me, the -cheekbones were starting through his skin which was shrivelled and -yellow with age. He wore what looked to me, in that light, like a -whole length piece of double width yellow canvas cloth. It was wrapped -round and round him, as, I am told, it is round mummies. A fold was -drawn up over his head, so as to make a kind of hood, and from under -this his face looked out. - -Fancy coming on such a figure, on a dark night, all of a sudden, and -you can guess what my feelings were. I thought I should have dropped. -I had to catch tight hold of Tom’s arm. - -“Tom,” I gasped, “what--whatever is it?” - -“Come on,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of this. Looney, he looks to -me.” - -Lunatic or not, he did not mean that we should get away from him quite -so easily. He took Emily by the shoulder--you should have heard the -scream she gave; if it had been louder it would have frightened the -neighbourhood. But the lunatic, or whatever the creature was, did not -seem to be in the least put out. He held her with both his hands, one -on either shoulder, and turned her round to him, and stared at her in -the most disgraceful way. He put his face so close to hers that I -thought he was going to bite her, or something awful. But no; all at -once he thrust her aside as if she was nothing at all. - -“It is not she,” he murmured, half to himself, as it seemed, and half -to us. - -And before I could guess what he was going to do, he laid his hands on -me. It was a wonder I did not faint right then and there. He gripped -my shoulders so tight that I felt as if he had me screwed in a vice, -and for days after my skin was black and blue. He thrust his face so -close to mine that I felt his breath upon my cheeks. There was an odd -smell about it which made me dizzy. He had little eyes, which were set -far back in his head. I had a notion they were short-sighted, he -seemed to have to peer so long and closely. At last his lips moved. - -“It is she,” he said, in the same half-stifled voice in which he had -spoken before. He had a queer accent. There was no mistaking what he -said, but it was certain that his tongue was not an Englishman’s. “You -will see me again--yes! Soon! You will remember me?” - -Remember him? I should never forget him, never! Not if I lived to be -as old as Methuselah. That hideous, hollow-cheeked, saffron-hued face -would haunt me in my dreams. I do have dreams, pretty bad ones -sometimes. I should see him in them many a time. My head whirled -round. The next thing I knew I was in Tom’s arms. He was holding me up -against Firandolo’s window. He spoke to me. - -“It’s all right now; he’s gone.” - -I sighed, and looked round. The wretch had vanished. What had become -of him I did not ask, or care to know. It was sufficient for me that -he had vanished. As I drew myself up I glanced round towards the -restaurant door. Mr. Isaac Rudd’s face was pressed against the glass. -Unless I was mistaken, when he perceived I saw him he drew back -quickly. I slipped my arm through Tom’s. - -“Let’s get away from here; let’s hurry home as fast as we can.” - -Off we went, we three. Emily began to talk. Tom and I were silent. It -was still as much as I could do to walk; I fancy Tom was thinking. - -“It is a wonder I didn’t faint as well as you; if you hadn’t I should. -But when you went I felt that it would never do for two of us to go, -so I held myself tight in. Did you ever see anything like that awful -man? I don’t believe he was alive; at least, I shouldn’t if it wasn’t -for the way in which he pinched my shoulders. I shall be ashamed to -look at them when I’ve got my dress off, I know I shall. My skin’s so -delicate that the least mark shows. What was he dressed in? And who -could the creature be? I believe he was something supernatural; there -was nothing natural about him that I could see. Then his eye! He -looked a thousand years old if he looked a day.” - -She ceased. She glanced behind her once or twice. She drew closer to -Tom. When she spoke again it was in a lower tone of voice. - -“Mr. Cooper, do you mind my taking your arm? There’s--there’s someone -following us now.” - -Tom looked round. As he did so, two men came past us, one by me, the -other one by Emily. The one who passed me was so close that his sleeve -brushed mine; as he went he turned and stared at me with might and -main. He was short, but very fat. He was shabbily dressed, and wore a -cloth cap slouched over his eyes. When he had gone a yard or two the -other man fell in at his side. They talked together as they slouched -along; we could not but see that, while both of them were short, one -was as thin as the other was stout. - -“Are you sure they’ve been following us?” whispered Tom to Emily. - -“Certain. They’ve been sticking close at our heels ever since we came -away from Firandolo’s.” - -The fact was put beyond dispute before we had gone another fifty -yards. The two men drew up close in front of us, in such a way that it -would have been difficult for us to pass without pushing them aside. - -“Which of you two ladies is Miss Blyth?” asked the stout man, in the -most impudent manner. - -On a sudden I was becoming the object of undesired attention which I -did not at all understand, and liked, if possible, still less. The -fellow looked us up and down, as if we had been objects offered for -sale. - -“What has it to do with you?” returned Tom. “Who are you, anyhow?” - -The thin man answered; the stout man had spoken in a shrill squeaky -treble, he had the deepest possible bass. - -“We’re the young lady’s friends; her two friends. Ain’t that gospel, -Sam?” - -“It’s that, William; it’s gospel truth. Truer friends than us she’ll -never have, nor none what’s more ready to do her a good turn.” - -“Not if she was to spend the rest of her days sailing round the world -looking for ’em, she’d never find ’em, that she wouldn’t. All we ask -is for her to treat us as her friends.” The thin man spat upon the -pavement. “Now then, out with it; which of you two ladies is Miss -Blyth?” - -“I’m not,” cried Emily. - -Which I thought was distinctly mean of her, because, of course, it was -as good as saying that I was. Once more the stout man looked me up and -down. - -“You’re her, are you? So I thought. The other’s too pretty, by chalks. -You’re a chip of the old block, and there wasn’t no beauty thrown away -on him; plain he was, as ever I saw a man; and plainer.” - -The fellow was ruder than ever. I am aware that Emily Purvis is a -beauty, and that I am not, but at the same time one does not expect to -be stopped and told so by two perfect strangers, at that hour of the -night. - -“For goodness’ sake,” I said to Tom, “let’s get away from these -dreadful persons as fast as we possibly can.” - -I made him come. The fat man called after us--in his squeaky treble. - -“Dreadful, are we? Maybe you’ll change your mind before you’ve done. -Don’t you be so fast in judging of your true friends, it don’t become -a young woman. There’s more dreadful persons than us about, as perhaps -you’ll find.” - -“It is to be hoped,” I observed to Tom, and paying no attention -whatever to Emily Purvis, who I knew was smiling on the other side of -him, “that we shall meet no more objectionable characters before we -get safely in.” - -“They’re friends of yours, my dear.” - -This was Emily. - -“I don’t see how you make that out, seeing that I never saw them -before, and never want to again.” - -“Some of us have more friends than we know, my love.” Her love! “We’ve -seen four of yours already; I shouldn’t be surprised if we saw another -still before we’re in.” - -As it happened, in a manner of speaking, it turned out that she was -right; though, of course, to speak of the creature we encountered, -even sarcastically, as a friend of mine, would be absurd. We were -going along the Fenton Road. As we were passing a street, which -branched off upon our right, there popped out of it, for all the world -as if he had been waiting for us to come along, a man in a long black -coat, reaching nearly to his heels, and a felt hat, which was crammed -down so tight, that it almost covered his face as well as his head. I -thought at first he was a beggar, or some object of the tramp kind, -because he fell in at our side, and moved along with us, as some -persistent beggars will do. But one glance at what could be seen of -his features was sufficient to show that he was something more out of -the common than that. He had a round face; almond-shaped eyes which -looked out of narrow slits; a flat nose; a mouth which seemed to reach -from ear to ear. There was no mistaking that this was a case of -another ugly foreigner. The consciousness that he was near made me -shudder; as he trudged along beside us I went uncomfortable all over. - -“Go away! Make him go away!” I said to Tom. - -Tom stood still. - -“Now then, off you go! We’ve nothing for you. The sooner you try it -off on somebody else, the less of your valuable time you’ll waste.” - -Tom took him for a beggar. But he was wrong, and I was right; the man -was not a beggar. - -“Which is little lady?” - -I don’t pretend that was exactly what he said. Thank goodness, I am -English, and I know no language but my own, and that is quite enough -for me, so it would be impossible for me to reproduce precisely a -foreign person’s observations; but that is what he meant. Tom was -angry. - -“Little lady? What little lady? There’s no lady here, big or little, -who has anything to do with you; so, now then, you just clear off.” - -But the man did nothing of the kind. He hopped to Emily, and back -again to me, peering at us both out of his narrow eyes. - -“Which of you is Missee Blyth?” - -“Miss Blyth! Is the whole world, all at once, on the look-out for Miss -Blyth? What is the meaning of this little game? You, there, hook it!” - -But instead of hooking it, to use Tom’s own language, and gentlemen -will use slang, the man grew more and more insistent. He must have -gone backwards and forwards between Emily and me half-a-dozen times. - -“Quick! Tellee me! Which is Missee Blyth? Quick, quick! tellee me! I -have something to give to Missee Blyth.” - -“I am Miss Blyth.” - -I did not suppose, for an instant, that he really had anything to give -me. But the man seemed to be in such a state of agitation, that I felt -that perhaps the best way to put an end to what was becoming a painful -situation would be for me to declare myself without delay. However, to -my surprise, hardly were the words out of my lips, than the man came -rushing to me, thrusting something into my hand. From what I could -feel of it, it appeared to be something small and hard, wrapped in a -scrap of paper. But I had no chance of discovering anything further, -because, before I had a chance of even peeping, the two short men, the -fat and thin one, came rushing up, goodness only knows from where, and -I heard the thin one call out, in his deep bass voice, to the other: - -“He’s given it her--I saw him! At her, Sam, before she has a chance of -pouching it.” - -The stout man caught me by the wrist, gave it a twist, which hurt me -dreadfully, and, before I could say Jack Robinson, he had the little -packet out of my hand. It was like a conjuror’s trick, it all took -place so rapidly, and before I had the least notion of what was going -to happen. The foreign person, however, seemed to understand what had -occurred better than I did. Clearly he did not want courage. With a -sort of snarl he sprang at the stout man, and with both hands took him -by the throat, as, I have heard, bulldogs have a way of doing. The -stout man did not relish the attack at all. - -“Pull him off me, William,” he squeaked. - -The thin man endeavoured to do as he was told. And, in a moment, out -in the open street there, the most dreadful fight was going on. What -it was all about I had not the faintest idea, but they attacked each -other like wild beasts. The foreign person did not seem to be at all -dismayed by the odds of two to one. He assailed them with frightful -violence. - -Plainly it would be as much as they could do to deal with him between -them. I certainly expected every second to see someone killed. Emily -went off her head with terror. She rushed, screaming up the street. -Tom dashed after her, whether to stop her or not I could not tell. -And, of course, I rushed after Tom. And the three men were left alone -to fight it out together. - -Emily never drew breath till we were quite close to Cardew & -Slaughter’s. Then a church clock rang out. It struck the half-hour. It -might have struck her, she stopped so suddenly. - -“Half-past eleven!” she cried. “My gracious! whatever shall we do?” - -It was a rule of the firm that the assistants were to be in by -half-past ten. Between the half-hour and the quarter there was a fine -of sixpence, and between the quarter and the hour one of half-a-crown. -After eleven no one was admitted at all. The doors had been closed for -more than half-an-hour! We stood, panting for breath, staring at one -another. Emily began to cry. - -“I daren’t stop out in the streets all night--I daren’t!” - -“I know a trick worth two of that,” declared Tom. “There’s a way in -which is known to one or two of us; I’ve had to use it before, and I -daresay I can use it again.” - -“It’s all very well for you,” cried Emily. “But we can’t climb -windows; and, if we could, there are no windows for us to climb.” - -Tom hesitated. I could see he did not like to leave us in the lurch. -The gentlemen slept right up at the other end of the building; there -was no connection between his end and ours. I had heard of what Tom -hinted at before; but then things are always different with gentlemen. -As Emily said, for the ladies there was no way in but the door. -Somehow I felt that, after all we had gone through, I did not mean to -be trampled on. - -“You go, Tom, and get in as best you can. Emily and I will get in too, -or I’ll know the reason why.” - -Away went Tom; and off started Emily and I to try our luck. She was -not sanguine. - -“They’ll never let us in, never!” - -“We’ll see about that.” - -I gritted my teeth, as I have a trick of doing when I am in earnest. I -was in earnest then. It is owing to the firm’s artfulness that there -are no bells or knockers on the doors leading to the assistants’ -quarters. When they are open you can get in; when they are closed -there are no means provided to call attention to the fact that you -require admission. They had been unloading some packing-cases. I -picked up two heavy pieces of wood which had been left lying about; -with them I started to hammer at the door. How I did hammer! I kept it -up ever so long; but no one paid the slightest heed. I began to -despair. Emily was crying all the while. I felt like crying with her. -Instead, I gritted my teeth still more, and I hammered, and I -hammered. At last a window was opened overhead, and the housekeeper, -Mrs. Galloway, put her head out. - -“Who’s that making this disgraceful noise at this hour of the night?” - -“It’s Miss Purvis and Miss Blyth. Come down and let us in; we’ve been -nearly robbed and murdered.” - -“I daresay! You don’t enter this house to-night; you know the rules. -And if you don’t take yourselves off this instant I’ll send for the -police.” - -“Send for the police, that’s what we want you to do. The police will -soon see if you won’t let us in.” - -Mrs. Galloway’s head disappeared; the window was banged. Emily cried -louder than ever. - -“I told you she’d never let us in.” - -“We’ll see if she won’t.” - -Off I started again to hammer. Presently steps were heard coming along -the passage. Mrs. Galloway’s voice came from the other side of the -door. - -“Stop that disgraceful noise! Go away! Do you hear me, go away!” - -“If we do it will be to fetch the police. They’ll soon show you if you -can keep us out all night when we’ve been nearly robbed and murdered.” - -The door was opened perhaps three inches; as I believed, upon the -chain. I knew Mrs. Galloway’s little tricks. But if it was upon the -chain what occurred was odd. Someone came hurrying up the steps behind -us. To my amazement it was the dreadful old man in the yellow canvas -cloth. I was too bewildered to even try to guess where he had come -from; I had never supposed that he, or anybody else, was near. He -pointed to the door. - -“Open!” he said, in that queer, half-stifled voice in which he had -spoken to me before. - -The door was opened wide, though how the housekeeper had had time to -remove the chain, if it was chained, was more than I could understand. -Emily and I marched into the passage--sneaked, I daresay, would have -been the better word. As I went the stranger slipped something into my -hand; a hard something, wrapped in a scrap of paper. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - THE DOLL. - -I do not know what it was, but something prevented Mrs. Galloway -from giving us the sort of talking to I had expected. She is a woman -with as nasty a tongue as you would care to meet. I had never before -known her lose a chance of using it. And there was a chance! But, -instead, there she stood mumchance, and before she had even so much as -said a word, Emily and I were off upstairs. I was on the second floor, -and Emily was on the third. When I stopped to go into my room I called -out to her, “Good night!” but she ran on, and never answered. She was -in such a state of mind, what with the fright, and her crying, and the -cold biting us through and through while we waited on the doorstep, -that all she cared for was to get between the sheets. - -In my room most of the girls were wide awake. It was not a large room, -so there were only nine of us, and that was including Miss Ashton. She -was the senior assistant, a regular frump, thirty if a day. She came -to bed a quarter of an hour after we did, and after she had come to -bed no one was supposed to talk. If any girl did talk Miss Ashton -reported her, and the girl was fined, and half the fine, whatever it -was, went into Miss Ashton’s pockets. So, of course--since, sometimes, -her pockets were bulging out with our money--no love was lost between -us. - -When I went in, although I knew that most of the girls were awake, -because of Miss Ashton no one spoke a syllable, until Lucy Carr, who -had the next bed to mine, whispered as I stood by her: - -“Whatever have you been up to?” - -“I’ve been nearly robbed and murdered, that’s what I’ve been up to.” - -“Miss Blyth, I shall report you for talking after midnight.” - -This was Miss Ashton, cold, and hard, and short as usual. Trust her to -go to sleep while there was a chance to snatch at somebody else’s -penny! - -“Very well, Miss Ashton, you can report me, and you can say, at the -same time, that it’s a wonder that I was alive to talk at all, for -what I’ve gone through this day, and this night, I alone can tell.” - -I plumped down on my box, and I leaned my back against the wall, and I -had to cry. Then all the girls set off together. Lucy Carr sat up in -bed, and she put her arms about my neck; she was a nice girl, was Lucy -Carr, we hardly ever quarrelled. - -“Never mind her, my love; you know what she’s like; she can’t help it, -it’s her nature. Don’t you cry, my dear.” - -And then there were such remarks as “It’s a shame!” “Poor dear!” and -“How can people be so cruel?” from the others. But Miss Ashton was not -touched, not she; she simply said, in her cold, hard tones: - -“Miss Carr, Miss Sheepshanks, Miss Flick, Miss James, I shall report -you for talking after midnight.” - -“That’s right,” said Lucy, “and much good may our money do you. I wish -it would burn a hole in your pocket!” - -Then the girls were still. Of course they did not want to lose all -their money, and there was no knowing what the fine might be for -talking at that time of night, and especially for keeping on. So I sat -on my box, and I wiped my eyes; I never do believe much in crying, and -somehow I felt too mad for a regular weep. I should like to have given -Miss Ashton a real good shaking--everything would go wrong! - -Just as I was beginning to undress--I actually had unhooked my -bodice--I thought of what the object in the grey canvas cloth had -slipped into my hand. What had become of it? In my agitation I had -forgotten all about it. I was holding it when I came into the room--I -remembered that. What had become of it since? I felt on my knee; it -was not there. I had not put it in my pocket. It must have dropped on -the floor. Intending to start a search I put out my foot and touched -something with my toe. I reached out my hand; it was the scrap of -paper. - -As I picked it up I knew quite well that there could be nothing in it -of the slightest consequence. People don’t give things worth having to -perfect strangers, especially such people as that creature in the -canvas cloth. Yet there had been a good deal of fuss. First the man in -the long black coat had given me a scrap of paper; then the thin man -had egged on the stout man to snatch it from me like a hungry lion; -then, to regain it in his possession the black-coated man had attacked -the two others like some mad wild beast; finally, to crown all, the -canvas cloth creature had put into my hand what seemed to be the -identical scrap of paper as I stood on the threshold of the door. -There must be something of interest connected with the thing; or why -had these persons, in spite of what Emily had said, all utter -strangers to me, behaved in such an extraordinary manner? - -I was both tired and sleepy, but I was more worried than either. Part -of my worry had to do with that scrap of paper. What was in it? I was -sure I should never sleep until I knew. It was about half an inch -broad, and an inch and a half long. As I pressed it with my fingers, I -could feel that something was inside, something queer-shaped and hard. -The room was pretty dark. All the light there was came through the -sides of the badly fitting blind from the lamp on the opposite side of -the street. I could not get the paper open. It was fastened in some -way I did not understand. As I held it up against the shaft of light -which came through the side of the blind, to make out, if possible, -what the trick of the fastening was, a queer thing took place. - -Something moved inside, and tore the paper open. It was only a little -thing, but it took me so completely by surprise that it affected me -almost as much as if the ceiling had fallen in. What could there have -been inside to move? I sat staring, in the darkness, with my mouth -wide open. Suddenly there came Miss Ashton’s voice from the other end -of the room. - -“Miss Blyth, are you not going to get into bed at all to-night?” - -At that moment I myself could not have told. I was holding in my hand -something which gleamed at me. What it was I could not even guess. I -only knew that two specks of light, which looked like eyes, were -shining at me through the darkness; and that the thing had moved. -There was Miss Ashton’s voice again. - -“Do you hear me, Miss Blyth? Are you going to bed? or am I to summon -Mrs. Galloway?” - -Without answering her a word I dropped what I was holding on to the -bed. I was convinced that it moved as I did so, as if to cling to my -fingers. It was silly, but I was never so frightened in my life. I saw -the two bright spots of light shining up at me from the counterpane as -if they were watching me. I hardly dared to breathe. I slipped off my -bodice, and the rest of my things, moving as little as I possibly -could, and stood in my night-gown shivering by the bed. Had I not been -afraid, I would have asked Lucy to let me get into bed with her. But I -knew Miss Ashton would hear, and would rout me out again, and then -there would be worse to follow. I should get Lucy into trouble as well -as myself. And there was trouble enough in store for all of us -already. Better face what there was to face alone, than drag anybody -else into the ditch into which I seemed to be continually tumbling. - -It was too ridiculous to be afraid to get into bed because that thing -with the shining spots was lying on the counterpane. I was sensible -enough to be aware of that. Yet I was afraid. Was it alive? If I could -only have made sure that it was not, I should not have minded. But it -was too dark to see; and I could not touch it. - -“Miss Blyth, are you going to get into bed?” - -“Well, Miss Ashton, there’s something on my bed, and I don’t know what -it is.” - -“Something on your bed? What do you mean? What nonsense are you -talking?” - -“Have you any matches? If you’ll lend me some, I shall be able to see -what it is. I can’t get in until I know.” - -“Is it a fresh trick you are playing me? I never heard anything so -ridiculous. Here are some matches. Be quick; and don’t be sillier than -you can help.” - -I went and took the box of matches she held out to me. Returning, I -lit one and held it over the counterpane. Some of the girls lifted -their heads to watch me. Lucy Carr leaned right out of her bed towards -mine. - -“Whatever is it?” she whispered. - -My hand shook so, with the cold, and the state I was in, that it was -all I could do to keep it steady enough to prevent the match from -going out. I held it lower. - -“I believe it’s a frog.” - -“A frog!” cried Lucy. She drew herself back with a little shriek. - -“It’s--it’s something horrid.” - -Two or three of the girls sat up, drawing the bedclothes to their -chins. - -“Miss Blyth, what is the cause of this confusion? Are we never to have -any sleep to-night?” - -Miss Ashton, getting out of bed, came across the room to see what was -the matter. The match went out. The red-hot end dropped on to the -counterpane. I brushed it off with my fingers. As I did so I touched -the thing. My nerves were so strung up that I gave a scream. There -came an echo from the girls. Miss Ashton was at my side before I could -strike another match. She was in a fine rage. - -“Give me the box!” She snatched it from me. “Have you been misbehaving -yourself? or are you mad? I’ll soon see what is the cause of all this -nonsense, and then I’ll be sorry for whoever is at the bottom of it.” - -The first match she tried would not light. The second burst into vivid -flame. She stooped down. - -“What is this thing upon your bed? It’s some painted toy. You impudent -girl!” - -Picking it up, she threw it on to the floor into the corner of the -room. Her match went out. There was a sound like a little cry of pain. - -“Whatever’s that?” asked Lucy. - -“It’s nothing,” replied Miss Ashton. “It was only the thing striking -against the floor.” - -“I believe it’s alive,” I said. “It shrieked.” - -“I believe you have been drinking.” - -“Miss Ashton!” - -“I have heard of people who have been drinking seeing things--that -appears to be your condition now. Are you going to get into bed? You -will have something to shriek for when the morning comes.” - -I got into bed, feeling so cowed, that I could not even resent, with a -proper show of dignity, her monstrous accusation. That anyone could -have been wicked enough to accuse me of such a thing! I was trembling -all over. I believed that the thing had shrieked, and was haunted by a -horrible doubt that it was alive. Never before was I in such a state -of mind and body. My brain was all in a whirl. I could do nothing but -lie there shivering; my joints and muscles seemed to be possessed by -an attack of twitching spasms, as if I had been suddenly smitten with -some hideous disease. - -I heard Miss Ashton return to her own bed. Then a voice whispered in -my ear, so gently that it could have been audible to no one but me-- - -“Never mind, dear. She’s a beast!” - -It was Lucy. I put out my hand. She was leaning over me. - -“Kiss me,” I muttered. - -She kissed me. It did me good. I held her, for a moment, to me. It -comforted me to feel her face against mine. - -“Now go to sleep! and don’t you dream!” - -It was easy enough to talk; it was harder to do. I did not often -dream. Not nearly so much as some of the other girls, who were always -telling us of the things they dreamed about. Rubbish it mostly was. I -always said they made up three parts of it, not believing that such -stuff could get into the heads of sensible people, even when they were -asleep. That night I dreamt while I was wide awake. I was overcome by -a sort of nightmare horror, which held me, with staring eyes and -racking head, motionless between the sheets, as if I had been glued to -them. It was as if the thing which Miss Ashton had thrown on the floor -was in an agony of pain, and as if it had communicated its sufferings -to me. - -At last I suppose I must have gone to sleep. And then it was worse -than ever. What I endured in my sleep that night no one could -conceive. It was as if I were continually passing through endless -chambers of nameless horrors. With it all were mixed up the events of -the evening. I saw Isaac Rudd, and the creature in the canvas cloth, -and the two short men, and the person in the long black coat. They -kept popping in and out, always in full enjoyment of my tortures. -There were Emily and I, standing at the top of an enormous flight of -steps, in pitch-black darkness, in frightful weather, outside the door -of some dreadful place, and there were those dreadful creatures -jeering at us because no one would let us in. And Tom--I knew that -somewhere near Tom was crying. And the thing which was in the scrap of -paper was with me all the night. It was always on me somewhere; now on -my throat, biting through the skin; now on my breast, drawing the life -right out of me; now on my toes, hampering my feet, so that I could -scarcely lift them up and down; now inside my mouth, filling me with a -horrible choking sense of nausea. - -But perhaps the strangest part of it all was that, when I awoke, there -actually was something on my forehead. I felt it against my chin. -Giving my head a sudden shake it slipped off on to the pillow at my -side. I sat up. It was broad day. I saw it as plain as could be. A -little painted thing, tricked out in ridiculously contrasting shades -of green, and pink, and yellow. As Miss Ashton had said, it might have -been a toy. I had seen things not unlike it in the shop, among the -Japanese and Chinese curiosities. Or it might have been a tiny -representation of some preposterous heathen god, with beads for eyes. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - AN INTERVIEW WITH MR. SLAUGHTER. - -That was a curious day. More things happened on it than on any day -of my life before. It was the beginning of everything and the end of -some things. From morning to night there was continual movement like -in the transformation scene in a pantomime. When, since one was born, -nothing has taken place, and nothing changed, it makes such a -difference. - -I got up feeling dreadfully stale; an up-all-night sort of feeling. -Not that I ever have been up all night; but I know what the sensation -is like because of the descriptions I have read. Miss Ashton was -disagreeable, and the girls were snappish--even Lucy Carr was short; -and, I daresay, I was not too nice. But then there often is a little -show of temper in the morning; it is human nature. They had all begun -when I got down to breakfast, and, of course, I got black looks for -that. I caught sight of Emily Purvis as I sat down. She nodded; but it -struck me that she was not looking brilliant, any more than I was. - -Breakfast stuck in my throat. The butter was bad as usual--cheap -margarine just rank enough to make pastry taste. The bread seemed as -if it had been cut for hours, it was so hard and dry. I did manage to -swallow a mouthful of tea; but the water was smoked, and I do not like -condensed milk which is just going off, so I could not do much even -with that. On the whole I did not feel any better for the meal when I -got into the shop. I am not sure that I did not feel worse; and I knew -I should be sinking before dinner came. Mr. Broadley began at me at -once. He set me re-packing a whole lot of stock, which he declared I -had not put tidily away; which was perfectly untrue, because, as a -matter of fact, it was Miss Nichols who had had it last, and it was -she who had put it back again. And, anyhow, some of those trimmings, -when they have been once shown, will not set neatly; they are like -hats, they cannot be made to go just so. - -It was past eleven, and I had not had a single customer; it was -miserable weather, and perhaps that had something to do with it, -because scarcely a soul came into the shop. Mr. Broadley kept me at -putting the shelves in order, almost as if I had been stock-taking. -Not that I cared, for I hate doing nothing; especially as, if you so -much as speak to one of the other young ladies, he is fit to murder -you; that is the worst of your married shopwalkers, directly a girl -opens her mouth he jumps down it. Still, I did not like it all the -same; because I was getting tired, and hungry too; and, when you are -hungry, the only way to stave the feeling off is to be kept busy -serving; then you cannot stop to think what you would like to eat. - -At last, just as a customer entered the shop, and was coming toward -me, up sailed Mr. Broadley. - -“Miss Blyth, you’re wanted in the office.” - -My heart dropped down with a thump. I had half expected it all along, -but now that it had come I went queer all over. I had to catch hold of -the counter to keep up straight. Miss Nichols, seeing how it was with -me, whispered as she went past: - -“It’s all right, Pollie, don’t you worry, it’s nothing. Buck up, old -girl.” - -It was nice of her to try to cheer me up; but there was a choking -something in my throat which prevented me from thanking her. Broadley -was at me again. - -“Hurry up, Miss Blyth, don’t stand mooning there. Didn’t you hear me -tell you that you are wanted in the office?” - -He was a bully, he was, to the finger-tips. I knew that he was smiling -at me all the time; enjoying my white face, and the tremble I was in. -When I got away from the counter I felt as if my knees were giving way -beneath me. Everyone stared as I went past--I could have cried. They -knew perfectly well that being summoned to the office during working -hours meant trouble. - -Outside the office was Emily Purvis. I had been wondering if she would -be there, yet it was a shock to see her all the same. She was quite as -much upset as I was. I knew that her nearest friends were down in -Devonshire, and that she was not on the best of terms with them; so -that if there was going to be serious trouble, she would be just as -badly off as I was, without any friends at all. Her pretty face looked -all drawn and thin, as if she were ten years older than she really -was. It would only want a very little to start her tears. Her voice -shook so that I could hardly make out what she said. - -“Pollie, what do you think they’ll do to us?” - -“I don’t know. Where’s Tom? Did he get in all right? Has he--been sent -for?” - -“How can I tell? I don’t know anything about Mr. Cooper. You know, -Pollie, it was not my fault that I was in late.” - -“So far as I know it was neither of our faults. I wonder if Tom got in -all right.” - -“Bother Tom! It’s very hard on me. I wonder if they’ll fine us?” - -Before I could answer Mr. Slaughter put his head out of the office. - -“Come in there! Stop that chattering! Are you the two young women I -sent for?” - -We went in, standing like two guilty things. Mr. Slaughter sat at his -desk. - -“Which of you is Mary Blyth?” - -“I am, sir.” - -“Oh, you are, are you?” - -He leant back in his chair, put his hands in his pockets, and looked -me up and down, as if he was valuing me. He was a little man, with -untidy hair and a scrubby black beard. I could not have been more -afraid of him if he had been a dozen times as big. He had a way of -speaking as if he would like to bite you; and as if he wished you to -clearly understand that, should he have to speak again, he would take -a piece clean out of you. Everybody about the place was more -frightened of him than of Mr. Cardew. It was he who had made it what -it was. In the beginning it had been nothing; now there were all those -shops. He was a thorough man of business, without a grain of feeling -in him. We all felt that he looked on us assistants as if we were so -many inferior cattle, not to be compared, for instance, to the horses -which drew his vans. - -I could have sunk through the ground as he continued to stare at me. -It was more than I could do to meet his eyes; yet something seemed to -say that he did not think much of what he saw. His first words showed -that I was right. - -“Well, Mary Blyth, it seems that you’re an altogether good-for-nothing -young woman. From what I find upon this paper it seems that there’s -everything to be said against you, nothing in your favour; no good for -business, no good for anything. And you look it. I can’t make out why -you’ve been kept about the place so long; it points to neglect -somewhere. It appears that you’re habitually irregular; three times -yesterday you missed making a sale, and you know what that means. We -don’t keep saleswomen who send customers away empty-handed; we send -them after the customers. You were impertinent to Mr. Broadley. And, -to crown all, you were out last night till something like the small -hours. On your return you made a riot till they let you in, and more -riot when you were in. Miss Ashton, who is far too gentle, does not -like to say that you had been drinking, but she says that you behaved -as though you had been. In short, you’re just the type of young woman -we don’t want in this establishment. You’ll go and draw whatever is -due to you, if anything is due; and you’ll take yourself and your -belongings off these premises inside of half an hour. That, Mary -Blyth, is all I have to say to you.” - -For the moment, when he had finished, I was speechless. It was all so -cruel and unjust; and there was so much to be said in reply to every -word he uttered, that the very volume of my defence seemed to hold me -paralysed. I could only stammer out: - -“It is the first time I have been reported to you, sir.” - -“As I have already observed, there has evidently been neglect in that -respect. The delay amounts to a failure of duty. I will make inquiries -into its cause.” - -“It was not my fault that I was late, sir.” - -“No? Was the gentleman to blame?” - -My face flamed up. I could have slapped him on the cheek. What did he -mean by his insinuations? - -“You have no right to speak to me like that!” - -“When young women in my employment misbehave themselves as you have -done I make plain speaking a rule. A man was with you, because one was -seen. You can apportion the blame between you.” I could not tell him -it was Tom; it might have been bad for him. “None of your airs with -me; off you go. Stay! This other young woman heard me talk to you; now -you shall hear me talk to her. Is your name Emily Purvis?” - -“Yes, sir. It’s the first time--I never meant it--it wasn’t my fault.” - -Emily broke into stammering speech; he cut her short. - -“Don’t you trouble yourself to talk; I’ll do all the talking that’s -required. You were out after hours with Miss Blyth. I’m not going to -ask any questions, and I’ll listen to no explanations; young women who -scour the streets at midnight are not the sort I like. We are judged -by the company we keep. You were Mary Blyth’s companion last night; -you’ll be her companion again. With her, you’ll draw what is due to -you; with her, you’ll clear yourself off these premises inside half an -hour. Now, stop it!” - -Emily began crying. - -“Oh, Mr. Slaughter, I’ve done nothing! it isn’t fair! I’ve nowhere to -go to!” - -“Oh, yes, you have, you’ve outside this office to go to. Now, no -nonsense!” He struck a hand-bell; a porter entered. “Take these young -women out of this; let them have what’s due to them; see they’re off -the premises inside half an hour.” - -“Oh, Mr. Slaughter!” wailed Emily. - -It made me so angry to see her demean herself before that unfeeling -thing of wood, that I caught her by the wrist. - -“Come, Emily! don’t degrade yourself by appealing to that cruel, -unjust, hard-hearted man. Don’t you see that he thinks it fine sport -to trample upon helpless girls?” - -“Come, none of that.” - -The porter put his hand upon my shoulder. Before I knew it we were out -of the office and half a dozen yards away. I turned upon him in a -flame of passion. - -“Take your hand from off my shoulder! If you dare to touch me again -you’ll be sorry!” - -He was not a bad sort. He seemed scared at the sight of me. - -“I don’t want to do anything to you. Only what’s the good of making a -fuss? You know he’s master here.” - -“And, because he’s master here, I suppose, if he tells you to behave -like a miserable coward, you would?” - -“What’s the use of talking? If he says you’ve got to go, you’ve got -to, and there’s an end of it. You take my advice, and don’t be silly.” - -“Silly! Your advice! When I ask you for your advice, you give it, not -before.” - -I stood and glared. I do not think he altogether liked the look of me; -I am sure that had he touched me I should have flown at him, and I -rather suspect he knew it. While he hesitated I heard someone speaking -in loud tones in the office from which we had just now been ejected. -It was a man’s voice. - -“I want to see Miss Blyth.” - -It was Mr. Slaughter who replied. - -“I say you can’t see Miss Blyth, so you have my answer, sir.” - -“But that is an answer which I am unable to accept. I must see Miss -Blyth, and at once, on a matter of grave importance.” - -“Don’t talk to me, sir; my time is valuable. This is neither the hour -nor the place at which we are accustomed to allow a stranger to see -the young women in our employ. And as, in any case, this particular -young woman is no longer in our employ, I repeat that you cannot see -Miss Blyth.” - -“Oh, yes, you can--for here is Miss Blyth.” - -Darting past the porter, who seemed pretty slow-witted, I was back -again in the office. A stranger was confronting the indignant Mr. -Slaughter. I had just time to see that he was not old, and that he was -holding a top hat, when he turned to me. - -“Are you Miss Mary Blyth?” - -“I am, Mr. Slaughter knows I am.” - -“My name is Paine, Frank Paine. I am a solicitor. If you are the Mary -Blyth I am in search of I have a communication to make to you of -considerable importance.” - -“Then make it outside, sir.” This was Mr. Slaughter. - -The porter appeared at the door. - -“What’s the meaning of this, Sanders? Didn’t I tell you to see this -young woman off the premises?” - -“I was just seeing her, sir, when she slipped off before I knew it.” - -I flashed round at Sanders. - -“You’ve assaulted me once, don’t you dare to assault me again; this -gentleman’s a solicitor. If you’re a solicitor, Mr. Paine, I want you -to help me. Because I was accidentally prevented from returning till a -few minutes after time last night, Mr. Slaughter wishes to send me -away at a moment’s notice, without a character.” - -“Is that the case, Mr. Slaughter?” - -“What business is it of yours? Upon my word! I tell you again to leave -my office.” - -“You appear to wish to carry things off with a high hand.” - -“A high hand! Mr. Slaughter thinks that he has only to lift his little -finger to have us all turned into the street.” - -“If that is so, he is in error. Miss Blyth is my client. As her -solicitor I would advise you to be sure that you are treating her with -justice.” - -“Her solicitor!” Mr. Slaughter laughed. “I wish you joy of the job, -you won’t make a fortune out of her!” He waved his hands. “Any -communication you have to make, you make through the post. For the -last time I ask you to leave my office.” - -“Come, Mr. Paine, we will go. He need not ask us again. As he says, we -can communicate with him through the post; and that will not -necessitate our being brought into his too close neighbourhood.” - -I shook the dust of the office off my feet. Mr. Paine seemed puzzled. -Outside was Emily, still crying. I introduced her. - -“This is Emily Purvis, another victim of Mr. Slaughter’s injustice. -Emily, this is my solicitor, Mr. Paine.” - -She stared, as well she might. For all I knew, it might have been a -jest of his, he might not have been a solicitor at all. The truth is I -was quite as anxious to carry things off with a high hand as Mr. -Slaughter could be; so I held my head as high as ever I could. - -“Mr. Paine, we are going to draw our salaries. They are sure to get as -much out of us in fines as they can. Will you come and see that they -don’t cheat us more than can be helped?” - -“Fines!” Mr. Paine looked grave. “I doubt if they have any right to -deduct fines without your express permission.” - -So he told them. That book-keeper had a pleasant time--the wretch! He -made out that the princely sum of fifteen shillings was due to each of -us; and off this, he wanted to dock me nine and six, and Emily five. -Mr. Paine would not have it. He put things in such a way that the -book-keeper referred to Mr. Slaughter. Mr. Slaughter actually sent -back word to say that he was to give us our fifteen shillings and let -us go. Then Mr. Paine handed in his card, and said that if we did not -receive, within four and twenty hours, a quarter’s salary in lieu of -notice, proceedings would be immediately commenced for the recovery of -the same. - -So, in a manner of speaking, Emily and I marched off with flying -colours. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - THE MISSIONARY’S LETTER. - -The question was, what was to become of us? With no friends one -cannot live long on fifteen shillings. Even if we got fresh situations -in a fortnight it would only be with management that the money could -be made to last that time; and, if we did, then we should be more -fortunate than I expected to be. - -Mr. Paine, however, postponed the solution of the difficulty by -suggesting that I should arrange nothing until I had had a talk with -him. I was willing; though what he had to do with it was more than I -could guess; unless, like they used to do in the fairy tales, he was -all of a sudden going to turn out to be my fairy godpapa. One thing I -insisted on, that Emily should come with me. So, after I had scribbled -a note to Tom--“Dear Tom, Emily and I have got the sack. Meet me after -closing time at the usual place. Yours, as ever, Pollie. P.S.--Hope -you’re all right”--which Sanders, who was a good sort, promised to see -he got--we all three got into a four-wheeled cab, with our boxes on -top, and away we rattled. - -“Good bye, Slaughter!” I said. “And may we never want to see your face -again. And now, Mr. Paine, where are you taking us to?” - -“To my offices in Mitre Court. What I have to say to you may take some -time, and require a little explanation, and there we shall have the -necessary privacy.” - -It sounded mysterious, and I began to wonder more and more what he had -to say. I daresay I should have put my wonder into words, only just at -that moment, who should I see, peeping at us round the corner of the -street which we were passing, but the man who paid our bill at -Firandolo’s, and who said his name was Isaac Rudd. The sight of him -gave me quite a shock. - -“There’s Isaac Rudd!” I cried. - -“Isaac--who?” asked Emily. She can be dull. - -“Why, the man who paid the bill last night.” - -Then she understood. Out went her head through the window. - -“Where? I don’t see him.” - -“No, and he’ll take care you won’t. Unless I’m mistaken, directly he -knew I saw him he took himself away; but he’s got his eye upon us all -the same.” - -I looked at Emily, and she at me. Mr. Paine saw that something was up. - -“Who was that you’re speaking of? Someone who has been annoying you?” - -“No--nothing. Only there was something a little queer took place last -night.” - -I sat silent, thinking of Isaac Rudd; as, I daresay, was Emily too. -Putting two and two together, it was odd that he should be just there -at that particular moment. Especially as, a little farther on, I saw, -standing in the shadow of a doorway, a man in a long black overcoat, -with his hat crushed over his eyes, who bore the most amazing -resemblance to the foreigner who had given me the something in a scrap -of paper. - -Suddenly I jumped up from my seat. I was so startled that I could not -help but give a little scream. They both stared at me. - -“What is wrong?” asked Mr. Paine. - -“Why, look at that!” - -There, sitting, as it were, bolt upright on my knee was the something -which had been in the scrap of paper. Mr. Paine eyed it. - -“What is it?” - -“That’s what I should like to know; also where it’s come from; it -wasn’t there a moment back, and that I’ll swear.” - -“May I look at it?” - -“Certainly; and throw it out of the window too, for all I care.” - -Mr. Paine took it up. He turned it over and over. - -“It looks like one of the images, representatives of well known -deities, which are used as household gods on some of the Pacific -coasts. People hang them over their beds, or over the thresholds of -their doors, or anywhere. Imitations are sold in some of the London -shops. Perhaps Messrs. Cardew & Slaughter keep them in stock.” - -“That I am sure they don’t. And, if they do, that’s not out of their -stock. That was given to me last night by a foreigner in yellow canvas -cloth. It jumped out of the scrap of paper in which it was -wrapped----” - -“Jumped?” - -“If it didn’t jump I don’t know what it did do; I can tell you it took -me aback. Miss Ashton threw it on to the floor; yet, when I woke up -this morning, it was on my forehead, though how it got there I know no -more than the dead.” - -“Are you in earnest, Pollie?” - -“Dead earnest. It’s my belief I left it in the bedroom, though I might -have put it in my pocket, but how it came on to my knee is just what I -can’t say.” - -Mr. Paine was dividing his attention between me and the thing. - -“This is very interesting, Miss Blyth. Especially as I also have had a -curious experience or two lately. Can you describe the person who gave -it you?” - -I described him, to the best of my ability. - -“That is--odd.” - -His tone seemed to suggest that something in my description had struck -him; though what it was he did not explain. - -“You’d better throw that thing out of the window,” I said. “I’ve had -enough of it.” - -“Thank you; but, if you have no use for it, if you do not mind, I -should like to retain it in my own possession. It’s a curiosity, -and--I’m interested in curiosities.” - -He slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. I noticed that once or twice -he felt with his fingers, as if to make sure that it still was there. - -Mr. Paine was very civil to us when we reached his office--a funny, -dark little place it was. He got out some cake, and biscuits, and a -decanter of wine, and Emily and I helped ourselves, for I was -starving. Sitting at a table in front of us, he took some papers out -of a drawer, and began to look at them. Now that I could notice him -more I could see that he was tall and well set up; quite the -gentleman; with one of those clear-cut faces, and keen grey eyes, with -not a hair upon it--I mean upon his face, of course, because I -particularly observed that his teeth and eyelashes were perfect. - -“Before I go into the subject on which I have ventured to bring you -here, I am afraid I shall have to ask you one or two questions, Miss -Blyth.” - -His manner was just what it ought to have been, respectful, and yet -not too distant. - -“Any answers I can give you, Mr. Paine, you are welcome to.” - -“What was your mother’s maiden name?” - -“Mary Ann Batters. She died six years ago next month, when I was -fourteen. My father’s name was Augustus. He was a most superior -person, although unfortunate in business; and though he died five -years before my mother, I’ve heard her say, almost to her last hour, -that she had married above her--which I believe she did.” - -“Had your mother any relations?” - -“None.” - -“Think again.” - -“Well, in a manner of speaking, there was one; but about him least -said soonest mended; although he was her brother--that is, until she -cast him off.” - -“What was his name?” - -“Benjamin. Although I do not remember ever hearing her mention it, -and, indeed, she was opposed to speaking of him at all; I learned it -was so through finding some letters of his in one of her boxes after -she was dead, and those letters I have unto this day.” - -“That is fortunate; because it is as the representative of Mr. -Benjamin Batters that I am here.” - -“Indeed? You don’t mean to say so. This is a surprise.” - -And not a pleasant one either. I had heard of Mr. Benjamin Batters, -though not for years and years, but never had I heard anything to his -credit. A regular all-round bad lot he must have been, up to all sorts -of tricks, and worse than tricks. I had reason to believe he had been -in prison more than once, perhaps more than twice. When you have a -relation like that, and have forgotten all about him, and are thankful -to have been able to do it, you do not like to have him come flying, -all of a sudden, in your face. I was not obliged to Mr. Paine for -mentioning his name. If that was all he had to talk about I was sorry -I had come. - -“I may take it, then, that Mr. Benjamin Batters is an uncle of yours.” - -“In a manner of speaking. Although, considering my mother, his sister, -cast him off, and that I myself never set eyes upon the man, it is -only by a figure of speech that you can call him so.” - -“Mr. Benjamin Batters, Miss Blyth, is dead.” - -“Then that alters the case. And I can only hope that he died better -than, I have been told, he lived.” - -“I should mention that I myself never met Mr. Batters, nor do I, -really, know anything at all about him. My connection with him is -rather an odd one. A little more than a week ago I received this -package.” He held out a bundle of papers. “Its contents rather -surprised me. Among other things was this letter, which, with your -permission, I will read to you. ‘Great Ka Island, lat. 5° South; -long. 134° East’--that is the heading of the letter; the address at -which it purports to have been written. A curious one, you will -perceive it is. There actually is such an island. It lies some three -hundred miles off the western coast of New Guinea, in the Arafura Sea; -and that, practically, is all I have hitherto been able to learn about -it. I have made inquiries, in the likeliest places, for someone who -has ever been there, but I have not, as yet, been able to light on -such a person. Ships, it appears, trade among the islands thereabouts. -To the captain of one of those the letter may have been handed. He may -have transferred it to the captain of an English vessel engaged in the -Australian trade, who bore it with him to England, and then posted it -to me; for that it was posted in London there is the postmark on the -original package to witness. I am informed, however, that letters from -those out-of-the-way corners of the world do reach England by -circuitous routes, so that, in itself, there is nothing remarkable in -that. - -“There is a discrepancy, I am bound to add, which, considering what -the letter purports to be, is a distinct misfortune--it is undated. -But I will read it, and then you yourself will see my point. - - - “‘Dear Sir’, it runs, ‘I write to inform you that this morning, at - 10.45, there died here, of enteric fever in my presence, Benjamin - Batters. From what I have heard him say, I believe he was in his - sixty-first year, though, latterly, he looked more, and was, at one - time, of Little Endell Street, Westminster.’” - - -“That was where mother lived when she was a girl,” I interposed. - -Mr. Paine read on: - - - “‘At his particular request I send you this intimation, together with - the documents which you will find enclosed. Set apart from the world - as here I am I cannot say when an opportunity will arise which will - enable me to despatch you this, nor by what route it will reach you; - but, by the mercy of an All-seeing Providence, I trust that it will - reach you in the end. - - “‘Mr. Batters suffered greatly towards the close; but he bore his - sufferings with exemplary patience. He died, as he had lived, at peace - with all men. - - “‘I am, Dear Sir, your obedient servant, - “‘Arthur Lennard, Missionary. - - “‘P.S.--I may add that I have just buried poor Batters, with Christian - rites, as the shadows lengthened, in our little graveyard which is - within hearing of the sea.’” - - -Mr. Paine ceased; he looked at us, and we at him. - -“That’s a funny letter,” I remarked. - -“Funny!” cried Emily. “Pollie, how can you say so? Why, it’s a -romance.” - -“Precisely,” said Mr. Paine. His voice was a little dry. “It is, -perhaps, because it is so like a romance that it seems--odd.” - -I had a fancy that he had meant to use another word instead of “odd;” -I wondered what it was. - -“According to that letter my Uncle Benjamin must have changed a good -deal before he died; I never heard of his being at peace with anyone. -Mother used to say that he would fight his left hand against his right -rather than not fight at all.” - -“From what you have been telling us a marked alteration must have -taken place in his character. But then, when people are dying, they -are apt to change; to become quite different beings--especially in the -eyes of those who are looking on.” Again there was that dryness in the -speaker’s tone. I felt sure there was a twinkle in his eye. “You will -see, Miss Blyth, that this letter is, to all intents and purposes, a -certificate of your uncle’s death; you will understand, therefore, how -unfortunate it is that it should be undated. We are, thus, in this -position; that, although his death, and even his burial, are -certified, we do not know when either event took place; except that, -as it would appear from the context, he was buried on the same day on -which he died--which, in such a climate, is not unlikely. Our only -means of even remotely guessing at the period of his decease is by -drawing deductions from the date of his will.” - -“His will! You don’t mean to say that my uncle Benjamin left a will?” - -“He did; and here it is.” - -“I expect that that’s all he did leave.” - -“You are mistaken; he left a good deal more.” - -“To whom did he leave it?” - -“It is to give you that very information, Miss Blyth, that I ventured -to bring you here.” - -I gasped. This was getting interesting. A cold shiver went down my -back. I had never heard of a will in our family before, there having -been no occasion for such a thing. And to think of Uncle Benjamin -having been the first to start one! As the proverb says, you never can -tell from a man’s beginning what his end will be--and you cannot. - -Emily came a little closer, and she took my hand in hers, and she gave -it a squeeze, and she said: - -“Never mind, Pollie! bear up!” - -I did not know what she meant, but it was very nice of her, though I -had not the slightest intention of doing anything else. But, as my -mother used to say, human sympathy is at all times precious. So I gave -her squeeze for squeeze. And I wished that Tom was there. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - SOLE RESIDUARY LEGATEE. - -Mr. Paine unfolded a large sheet of blue paper. - -“This is, it appears, the last will and testament of your late uncle, -Benjamin Batters. It is, as, when you have heard it, I think you will -yourself agree, a somewhat singular document. It came with the letter -from Mr. Lennard which I have just now read you. It is, so far as I -know, authentic; but it is my duty to inform you that the whole affair -is more than a little irregular. This document seems to be a -holograph--that is, I take it that it is in your uncle’s own writing. -Do you recognise his handwriting?” - -He gave me the paper. I glanced at it. Emily peeped over my shoulder. - -“Well, I shouldn’t exactly like to go so far as that, but I have some -letters of his, and, so far as I remember, the writing seems about the -same. But you can see them if you like; then you will be able to -compare it.” - -“I should be very much obliged, Miss Blyth, if you would allow me to -do so. A very important point would be gained if we could prove the -writing. As matters stand at present I am in a position in which I am -able to prove absolutely nothing. Mr. Batters was a stranger to me; he -seems, also, to have been a stranger to you; I can find nobody who -knew him. All we have to go upon is this letter from the other end of -the world, from a person of whom no one knows anything, and which may -or may not be genuine. Should another claimant arise we should be -placed in a very awkward situation.” - -“Is there going to be another claimant? And what is there to claim?” - -“So far as I know there is going to be none; but in legal matters it -is necessary to be prepared for every emergency. As to what there is -to claim, I will tell you.” - -I gave him back the blue paper. He began to read. Emily came closer. I -could feel that she was all of a flutter. - - - “‘This is the last will and testament of me, Benjamin Batters. - - “‘On condition that she does as I hereby direct I give and bequeath to - my niece, Mary Blyth, the daughter of my sister, Mary Ann Batters, who - married Augustus Blyth, and who when I last heard tell of her was - assistant at Cardew & Slaughter’s, a life income of Four Hundred and - Eighty Eight Pounds Nineteen Shillings and Sixpence a year, interest - of my money invested in Consols.’” - - -Mr. Paine stopped. - -“I may say that bonds producing that amount were enclosed in the -package. Here they are.” - -“Four Hundred and Eighty Eight Pounds Nineteen Shillings and Sixpence -a year!” said Emily. “I congratulate you, Pollie!” - -She kissed me, right in front of Mr. Paine. For my part, I felt a -queer something steal all over me. My heart began to beat. To think of -Uncle Benjamin, of all people in the world, leaving me such a fortune -as that! And at the very moment when all my expectations in this world -amounted to exactly fifteen shillings! There need be no more waiting -for Tom and me. We would be married before the year was out, or I -would know the reason why. - -Mr. Paine went on. - -“The will is by no means finished, ladies. The greater, and more -remarkable part of it is to follow. When you have heard what it is I -am not sure that Miss Blyth will consider herself entitled to -congratulations only.” - -What could he mean? Had the old rascal changed his mind in the middle -of his own will? - -“‘This money,’ Mr. Batters goes on to say, ‘was earned by hard labour, -the sweat of my brow, and sufferings untold, so don’t let her go and -frivol it away as if it was a case of lightly come and lightly go.’” - -“If that’s true, Uncle Benjamin must have altered, because I’ve heard -my mother say, over and over again, that he never could be induced to -do an honest day’s work in all his life.” - -“People sometimes do alter--as I have observed. ‘On condition, also, -that she does as I tell her,’ continues Mr. Batters, ‘I bequeath to -her the life tenancy of my house, 84, Camford Street, Westminster, -together with the use of the furniture it contains.’” - -“What!” interrupted Emily, “a house and furniture too. Why, Pollie, -what else can you want?” - -I wondered myself. But I was soon to know. Mr. Paine read on: - - - “‘I give and bequeath the above to my niece, Mary Blyth, on these - conditions. She is to live in the house at 84, Camford Street. She is - never to sleep out of it. She is never to be away from it after nine - o’clock at night or before nine o’clock in the morning. She is only to - have one companion, and she must be a woman. They are to have no - visitors, neither she nor her companion. She is to choose a companion, - and stick to her. If the companion dies, or leaves her, she is not to - have another. She is afterwards to live in the house alone. She is not - to let any woman, except her companion, enter the house. She is not to - allow any man, under any circumstances whatever, to come inside the - house, or to cross the doorstep. These are my wishes and orders. If - she disobeys any one of them, then may my curse light on her, and I - will see that it does, and the house, and the income, and everything, - is to be taken from her, and given to the Society for Befriending - Sailors. - - “‘Signed, Benjamin Batters.’” - - -“That, Miss Blyth, is what purports to be your uncle’s will.” - -“But,” I gasped, “what is that at the end about stopping in the house, -and letting no one come in, and all the rest of it?” - -“Those are the conditions on which you are to inherit. Before, -however, touching on them I should like to point out in what respect -the will seems to me to be most irregular. First of all, it is -undated. There could hardly be a more serious flaw. There is nothing -to show if it was made last week or fifty years ago. In the interim -all sorts of things may have happened to render it null and void. Then -a signature to a will requires two witnesses; this has none. Then the -wording is extremely loose. For instance, should you fail to fulfil -certain conditions, the property is to pass to the Society for -Befriending Sailors. So far as I can learn there is no such society. -Societies for befriending sailors there are in abundance, but there is -not one of that exact name, and it would become a moot point which one -of them the testator had in his mind’s eye.” - -“All of which amounts to--what?” - -“Well, it amounts to this. You can receive the money referred to, and -live in the house in question, at your own risk, until someone comes -forward with a better title. It will not need a very good title, I am -sorry to say, Miss Blyth, to be better than that which is conferred on -you by this document. I am not saying this by way of advice, but -simply as a statement of the case as it appears to me.” - -“What I want to know is, what’s the meaning of those conditions? I -suppose, by the way, there is such a house.” - -“There certainly is. Camford Street is an old, and not particularly -reputable street, one end of which leads into the Westminster Bridge -Road. No. 84 is in a terrace. From the exterior--which is as much as I -have seen of it--it looks as if it had not been occupied for a -considerable period of time. Indeed, according to the neighbours, no -one has lived in it for, some say ten, others fifteen, and others -twenty years.” - -“That sounds nice,” cut in Emily. “If no one has lived in it for all -that time I shouldn’t be surprised if it wanted a little cleaning.” - -“Not at all improbable, from what it looks like outside. The shutters -are up at the window--on that point, I may mention, a man who has a -small chandler’s shop on the opposite side of the road, tells rather a -singular story. He informed me that, to the best of his knowledge and -belief, the last occupant of the house was a man named Robertson. He -was an old man. Mr. Kennard, my informant, says that what became of -him he does not know. He did not move; there was no attempt to let the -place; he simply ceased to be seen about. Nor has a living soul been -seen in the house for years. But, he says, some months ago, he is not -sure how many, when he got up one morning to open his shop, on looking -across the road he saw that all the windows inside were screened by -shutters. He declares that not only were there no shutters there the -night before, but dirty old blinds which were dropping to pieces, but -that he never had seen shutters there before, and, indeed, he doubted -if there were such things at any other house in the terrace. If his -tale is true, it seems an odd one.” - -“It sounds,” said Emily, “as if the house were haunted.” - -“Without going so far as that, it does seem as if the shutters could -hardly have got there of their own accord, and that someone must have -been inside on that particular night, at any rate. No one, however, -was seen, either then or since. There the shutters are, as one can -perceive in spite of the accumulated grime which almost hides the -windows. No one seems to know who the house belongs to, or ever did -belong to; and I would observe that, since no title deeds were in the -package, or any hint that such things were in existence, we have only -Mr. Batters’ bare word that the property was his. I should hasten to -add that there is a small parcel addressed to Miss Blyth, whose -contents may throw light, not only on that matter, but on others -also.” - -He handed me a parcel done up in brown paper. It was addressed, in -very bad writing, “To be given to my niece, Mary Blyth, and to be -opened by her only.” I cut the string, and removed the wrapper. In it -was a common white wood box. Emily leaned over my shoulder. - -“Whatever is inside?” she asked. - -The first thing I saw when I lifted the lid, gave me a start, and I -own it--there, staring me in the face, was the own brother of the -little painted thing which was in the packet which the foreigner had -slipped between my fingers. - -“Why,” I cried, “if there isn’t another!” - -“Another!” Mr. Paine gave a jump. “That’s very odd.” He was fishing -about in his waistcoat pocket. “I thought you gave me the one you -had.” - -“So I did. You put it in the pocket in which you’re feeling.” - -“I thought I did. But--have you noticed me taking it out?” - -“You’ve not taken it out, of that I’m sure.” - -“But--I must have done. It’s gone.” - -His face was a study. I hardly knew whether to laugh or not. - -“It strikes me,” he remarked, “that someone is playing a trick on us; -and, as I’m not over fond of tricks which I don’t understand, I’ll put -an end to this little joke once and for all.” - -There was a fire burning in the grate. Laying the box down on a chair, -taking the little painted thing between his finger and thumb, off he -marched towards the fireplace. As he was going, all of a sudden he -gave a little jump, as I suppose, loosened his hold, and down the -thing dropped on to the floor. He stood staring at his hand, and at -the place where it had fallen, as if startled. - -“Where’s it gone?” he asked. - -“It must have rolled under the table.” This was Emily. - -But it had not. We searched in every nook and cranny. It had vanished, -as completely as if it had never been. - -“This is a pretty state of affairs. If it goes on much longer we shall -begin to take to seeing things. If the rest of the contents of the box -are of the same pattern, you might have kept it, Mr. Paine, for all I -care.” - -But they were not. The next thing I took out was a key. It was a -little one, and the queerest shape I ever saw. It was fastened to a -steel chain; at one end of the chain was a padlock. Attached to the -handle of the key was a kind of flying label; on it this was written: - - - “To Mary Blyth. This is the key of 84, Camford Street. The lock is - high up on the left-hand side of the door. There is no keyhole. You - will see a green spot. Press the key against the spot and it will - enter the lock. Push home as far as it will go, then jerk upwards, and - the door will open. Don’t try to enter when anyone is looking. - Directly you get it, tear off this label and burn it. Then pass the - chain about your waist, underneath your dress, and snap the padlock. - If you lose the key, or let it go for a moment from your possession, - may the gods burn up the marrow in your bones. And they will.” - - -“That’s cheerful reading,” I observed, when I had read the label to an -end. I passed it to Mr. Paine. - -“It is curious,” he admitted. “In which respect it’s of a piece with -all the rest.” - -When Emily read it her eyes and mouth opened as wide as they very well -could do. - -“I never!” she cried. “Isn’t it mysterious?” - -“What shall I do?” I asked, when the chain and key had been returned -to me. - -Mr. Paine considered. - -“You had better do as instructed--burn the label; that is, after we -have taken a copy. There is nothing said against your doing that; and, -if you have a copy, it will prevent your memory playing you false. As -for the key itself--will it do you any harm to fasten it to your waist -in the manner directed?” - -“Except that it’s a bit too mysterious for my taste. Some folks like -mysteries; I don’t.” - -“My dear,” cut in Emily, “they’re the salt of life!” - -“Then I don’t like salt. Perhaps it’s because I’m a plain person that -I like plain things. Here’s more mystery.” - -The only thing left in the box was an envelope. When I took it out I -found that on it this was written: - - - “This envelope is for Mary Blyth, and is not to be opened by her - till she is inside 84, Camford Street.” - - -I showed it to Mr. Paine, who was copying the label. - -“What shall I do with that?” - -“As you are told. Open it when you are in the house, and afterwards, -if it is not expressly forbidden, you can, if you choose, communicate -the contents to me.” - -While he copied the label I went with Emily into an inner room, which -turned out to be his bedroom; put the chain about my waist inside my -bodice, and closed the padlock; and it was only when I had done so -that I discovered that it had no key, so that how I was to open it, -and get the chain off again, goodness only knew. Emily kept talking -all the while. - -“Pollie, isn’t it all just lovely? In spite of what you say, your -Uncle Benjamin must have been a really remarkable man. It’s like a -romance.” - -“I wish my Uncle Benjamin hadn’t been such a remarkable man, then he -might have left me the money and the house without the romance. Bother -your romance, is what I say.” - -“You’re a dear,” she affirmed, and she held up her hands--and very -pretty hands they were. “But you have no soul.” - -“If that’s what you call soul,” I answered, “I’m glad I haven’t.” - -When we got back to Mr. Paine, I began at him again. - -“Now let me clearly understand about those conditions. Do you mean to -say that I’m to stop in the house all alone?” - -“You may have a companion--who must be a woman.” - -“I’ll be your companion! Do let me be your companion, Pollie!” - -I looked at Emily, who stood in front of me with flushed cheeks and -eager eyes; as pretty a picture as you could wish to see. - -“Done!” We shook hands upon it. “I only hope you won’t have too much -romance before you’ve been my companion long.” - -“No fear of that! The more there is the more I’ll like it.” - -I was not so certain. She spoke as if she were sure of herself. But, -for my part, I felt that it remained to be seen. I went on: - -“What was that about being in before nine?” - -“You are never to sleep out of the house. You are always to be in it -before nine at night, and never to leave it before nine in the -morning.” - -“That’s a nice condition, upon my word!” I turned to Emily. “What do -you think of that? It’s worse than Cardew & Slaughter’s.” - -“It does seem rather provoking. But”--there was a twinkle in her -eye--“there may be ways of getting out of that?” - -“What was that about no man being allowed in the house?” - -“No man, under any circumstances, is to be allowed to cross the -doorstep; nor, indeed, is anyone, except the lady you have chosen to -be your companion.” - -“But what about my Tom?” - -“Your--Tom? Who is he?” - -“Mr. Tom Cooper is the gentleman to whom I am engaged to be married.” - -“I am afraid that, by the terms of the will, no exception is made even -in his favour.” - -I did not answer. But I told myself that we would see about that. If, -as Emily hinted, there were ways of getting the better of one -condition, it should not be my fault if means were not found to get -the better of the other too. - -Almost immediately afterwards we started for the house; all three of -us again in the four-wheeler which had been waiting for us the whole -of the time. I wondered who was going to pay the fare. It would make a -hole in my fifteen shillings. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - ENTERING INTO POSSESSION. - -It was Mr. Paine who settled with the cabman. It had not struck me -that we had been passing through an over-savoury neighbourhood; we -drew up in front of a perfectly disreputable-looking house. Not that -it was particularly small; there were three storeys; but it looked so -dirty. And if there is one thing I cannot stand it is dirt. I could -easily believe that no one had lived in it for twenty years; it was -pretty plain that the windows had not been cleaned for quite as long -as that. - -“Well,” I declared as I got out of the cab, “of all the dirty-looking -places I ever saw! If no one is to be allowed to set foot inside -except Emily and me, who do you suppose is going to clean those -windows?” - -“That, I am afraid, is a matter which you must arrange with Miss -Purvis; the will makes no exception in favour of window cleaners.” - -“Then all I can say is that that’s a nice thing.” I turned to Emily. -“This is going to turn out a pretty sort of romance--charwomen is what -we shall have to commence by being.” - -“I’m not afraid of a little work,” she laughed. - -I looked at the door. - -“That writing on the label said that we were not to go into the house -when anyone was looking. How are we going to manage that? Are you and -the cabman to turn your backs?” - -“I don’t think that that is necessary; this shall be an exception. -After you’ve opened the door we’ll hand the luggage to you when you’re -inside.” - -Mr. Paine and the cabman were not by any means the only two persons -who were looking. Our stoppage in front of No. 84 had created quite a -wave of interest. People were watching us at doors and through -windows, and a small crowd of children had gathered round us in a -circle on the pavement. As it was out of the question for us to wait -till all eyes were off us, I straightaway disobeyed at least one of -the directions which were on the label. - -What looked like an ordinary opening for a latchkey was in its usual -place on the right hand side of the door, but when I slipped my key -into that it turned round and round without producing any visible -effect whatever. So I examined the other side. There, sure enough, so -high up as to be almost beyond my reach, was what looked like a small -dab of green paint. When I pushed the key against it it gave way. The -key went into the apparently solid wood-work right up to the handle. I -gave it an upward jerk; the door was open. However neglected the -windows were, that lock seemed to be in good condition. - -The door had opened about an inch. We all stared at it as if something -wonderful had happened. I confess that I was a little startled, -because I had used so little force that it was a wonder to me how it -had come open. The children, giving a sort of cheer, came crowding -close round. Mr. Paine had to order them back. I pressed my hand -against the door. As it swung upon its hinges a bell sounded somewhere -in the house. It seemed to come from upstairs, with a shrill, metallic -clanging. - -“There might be someone in already, who wanted to have warning of -anyone’s approach.” - -This was Emily. She was staring into the passage as if she expected to -see something strange. - -“Come,” said Mr. Paine. “Let me help you in with the luggage; then I -must leave you. People are taking a greater interest in the -proceedings than is altogether desirable. You may find them a nuisance -if you don’t look out.” - -The crowd was being reinforced by children of an older growth. -Loiterers were stopping to stare. People were coming out of their -houses. As Mr. Paine said, their interest was becoming too -demonstrative. He helped the cabman to get our boxes into the passage. -Then he went. We shut the door after him in the faces of the crowd. -Emily and I were left alone. - -It was an odd sensation which I felt during those first few moments in -which I realised that she and I were alone in my Uncle Benjamin’s old -house. I was conscious of a foolish desire to call the crowd to keep -us company. Emily Purvis was hardly the kind of girl I should myself -have chosen to be my sole companion in a tight place; and I had a kind -of feeling that before very long it might turn out that I was in a -tight place now. - -It had all come on me so suddenly. More things had happened in a few -hours than in all my life before. Yesterday I had thought myself a -fixture at Cardew & Slaughter’s; with marriage with Tom in the far-off -distance; when the skies had fallen; or he had become a shopwalker and -I a buyer; or we had saved up enough to start a small shop of our own. -Now, Cardew & Slaughter’s had gone from me for ever. So far as money -went I was free to marry Tom next week. But there was this horrid -house--already I was calling it horrid--and my uncle’s absurd -conditions. If I was to observe them during the rest of my life I -might as well write myself a nun at once, and worse. Better Cardew & -Slaughter’s--or anything. - -We could hear the sound of traffic and voices in the street. Within -the house all was still. There was no window over the door. In the -passage it was so dark that it was as much as we could do to make out -where we were. Emily put her hand upon my arm, as if she wished to -make sure that I was close. - -“It’s no good our stopping here,” I said. “We’d better light a candle -and look about us. If the whole house is as light as this it must be a -cheerful place to live in.” - -Acting on Mr. Paine’s suggestion, as we had come along in the cab we -had bought some candles and matches, and enough provisions to carry us -on to to-morrow. Routing out a box, I struck a match. I gave Emily a -candle and took one myself. - -“Now to explore!” - -We were brought to a standstill at the very start. In front of us was -a door which led into a room opening out of the passage, or ought to -have done. When I tried the handle I found that it was locked. I shook -it, I even thumped at the panels, I searched for a key; it was no -good. Against us the door was sealed. - -“This is a comfortable beginning! If all the doors are locked it will -be really nice. Perhaps Uncle Benjamin intended that I should merely -have the run of the passage and the stairs.” - -Such, however, fortunately or otherwise, was not the case. The room -behind the one which was closed was the kitchen; that was open, and a -delightful state it was in. Not only was it inches thick in dust, but -it was in a state of astonishing confusion. Pots and pans were -everywhere. The last person who had used that kitchen to cook a meal -in had apparently simply let the utensils drop from her hand when she -had done with them, and left them lying where they fell. There was a -saucepan here, a frying-pan there, a baking tin in the corner. Another -thing we soon became conscious of--that the place was alive with -cockroaches. - -“What is it we are stepping on?” asked Emily. - -“Why, it’s beetles.” - -She picked up her skirts, she gave a scream, and back she scurried -into the passage. I am not fond of the creatures; I never met anyone -who was; but I am not afraid of them, and I was not going to let them -drive me out of my own kitchen. - -“There’s one thing wanted, and that’s light and fresh air. Only let me -get those shutters down, and the window open, and then we’ll see. I -should say from the smell of the place that there has never been any -proper ventilation since the house was built.” - -But it was easier said than done. Those shutters would not come down. -How to begin to get them down was more than I could understand. To my -astonishment, when I rapped them with my knuckles, they rang. - -“I do believe,” I said, “they’re made of iron--they’re a metal of some -kind. They seem to have been built into the solid wall, as if they had -never intended them to be moved. No wonder the place smells like a -vault, and beetles, and other nice things, flourish, if they’re -fixtures.” - -A scullery led out of the kitchen. It was in the same state. One -crunched blackbeetles at every step. There was a shutter before the -window, which had evidently never been meant to be taken down. Where, -apparently, there had been a door leading into a backyard or -something, was a sheet of solid metal. No one was going to get out -that way in a hurry; or in either. - -“But what can be the meaning of it all?” I cried. “There must be an -object in all this display of plate armour, or whatever it is. The -place is fortified as if it were meant to stand a siege. I shall begin -to wonder if there isn’t a treasure hidden somewhere in the house; a -great store of gold and precious stones, and that Uncle Benjamin made -up his mind that at any rate thieves should not break through and -steal.” - -“Oh, Pollie, do you think there is? Perhaps it’s in the next -room--perhaps that’s why the door is locked.” - -“Perhaps so; and perhaps the key’s upstairs, waiting for us to come -and find it. Anyhow we’ll go and see.” - -When I rejoined Emily it struck me that she was not looking quite so -happy as she might have done; as if the romance was not taking -altogether the shape she either expected or desired. I led the way -upstairs. There was a carpet on them; but by the illumination afforded -by a guttering candle, it only needed a glance to see that, if you -once took it up, you would probably never be able to put it down -again--it would fall to pieces. We had hardly gone up half-a-dozen -steps when there came a clitter-clatter from above. Emily, who was -behind, caught me by the skirt. - -“Pollie! Stop! Whatever’s that? There’s someone there!” - -“Rats, most likely. In a house like this there are sure to be all -sorts of agreeable things. Where there aren’t blackbeetles there are -rats; and where there’s either there’s probably both.” - -Rats it was. Before we had mounted another tread two or three came -flying down, brushing against our skirts as they passed. You should -have heard Emily scream. - -“Don’t be silly,” I said. “You talk about liking romance, and you make -all that fuss because of a rat or two.” - -“It isn’t exactly that I’m afraid of them, but--they startled me so. I -daresay I shan’t mind them when I’ve got used to them, only--I’ve got -to get used to them first.” - -She was likely to have every opportunity. Presently two or three more -came down. They seemed to be in a hurry. One, which was not looking -where it was going, struck itself against my foot, and squeaked. Emily -squealed too. When we reached the landing we could hear them -scampering in all directions. - -On that floor there were three rooms and a cupboard. The cupboard was -empty. So was one of the rooms; that is, so far as furniture was -concerned. But it was plain where, at any rate, some of the rats were. -When I went into the room I stepped on a loose board. As it gave way -beneath my tread I never heard such an extraordinary noise as came -from under it. Apparently a legion of rats had their habitations -underneath that flooring. I half expected them to rush out and make -for us. I was out of the room quicker than I went in, and took care to -close the door behind me. Emily had turned as white as a sheet. - -“I can’t stop in this place--I can’t.” - -I was scornful. - -“I thought you couldn’t. You’ll remember I told you that you wouldn’t -be my companion long. I knew that was the sort you were.” - -“It isn’t fair of you to talk like that--it isn’t. I don’t mind -ordinary things--and I’ll not leave you, you know I won’t. But all -those rats! Did you hear them?” - -“I heard them, and they’ll hear me before long. There’s going to be a -wholesale slaughter of rats, and blackbeetles. There’ll soon be a -clearance when they’ve sampled some of the stuff I know of. I’m not -going to be driven out of my own house by trifles.” - -One of the other rooms was a bedroom, a sort of skeleton of one. There -was some carpet on the floor, or what had been carpet. There was an -iron bedstead, on which were the remains of what might have been a -mattress. But there were no signs of sheets or blankets; I wondered if -the rats had eaten them. - -After what we had seen of the rest of the house, the third room, which -was in front, was a surprise. It was a parlour; not the remnants of -one, but an actual parlour. There was what seemed to be a pretty good -carpet on the floor. There was a round table, with a tapestry cover. -There were two easy chairs, four small ones, a couch. On the sideboard -were plates and dishes, cups and saucers. On the stove, which was a -small kitchener, was a kettle, two saucepans, and a frying pan, all of -them in decent order. Although the usual shutters screened the window, -the place was clean, comparatively speaking. And when I went to a -cupboard which was in one corner, I found that in it there were coals -and wood. - -“It is not twenty years since this room was occupied, there’s that -much certain; nor, from the look of it, should I say it was twenty -hours. I should say there had been a fire in that stove this very day, -and there’s water in the kettle now.” - -“What’s this?” - -Emily was holding out something which she had picked up from the -floor. It was a woman’s bracelet, a gold bangle; though I had never -seen one like it before. It was made of plain, flat gold, very narrow, -twisted round and round; there was so much of it that, when it was in -its place, it must have wound round the wearer’s arm, like a sort of -serpent, from the wrist to the elbow. At one end of it was something, -the very sight of which gave me quite a qualm. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - THE BACK-DOOR KEY. - -“Look!” I said. “Look!” - -“Look at what? What’s the matter with you, Pollie? Why are you glaring -at me like that?” - -“Don’t you see what’s at the end of it?” - -She turned the bangle over. - -“It isn’t pretty, but--it’s some sort of ornament, I suppose.” - -“It’s that thing which was in the scrap of paper, or its double.” - -“Pollie! Are you sure?” - -“Certain. I’ll back myself to know that wherever it turns up.” - -Taking the bracelet from her I eyed it closely. There was no mistaking -the likeness; to one end was attached the very double of that painted -little horror. Emily criticised it as she leant over my shoulder. - -“It looks as if it were meant for a man who mostly runs to head. And -what a head it is! Look at his beard, it reaches to what may be meant -for feet. And his hair, it stands out from his scalp like bristles.” - -“Don’t forget his eyes, how they shine. They must be painted with -luminous paint, or whatever they call the stuff, which lights up in -the dark. The other night they gleamed so I thought the creature was -alive. And his teeth--talk about dentist’s advertisements! I believe -it’s meant for one of those heathen gods who are supposed to live on -babies, and that kind of thing. He looks the character to the life. -But fancy your picking it up from the floor! That’s not lain there -twenty years. There’s not a speck of rust upon it. It’s as bright as -if it had just come off somebody’s arm.” - -“Pollie, do you think there’s anybody in the house besides we two?” - -“My dear, I haven’t the faintest notion; you can use your senses as -well as I can, and are quite as capable of putting two and two -together. One fact’s obvious, it’s not long since somebody was in this -room. But we’ve the rest of the house to see; I can tell you more when -we’ve seen it. Come, let’s go upstairs.” - -Putting the bracelet on the table, I left the room. Emily seemed -reluctant to follow. I fancy that if she had had her way she would -have postponed the remainder of our voyage to later on--a good deal -later on. And, on the whole, I hardly wondered, because, directly we -began to go upstairs, such a noise came from above, and, indeed, from -everywhere, that you would have thought the whole place was alive; and -so it was--with rats. I had heard of the extraordinary noises the -creatures could make, but I had never realised their capacity till -then. Emily stood trembling on the bottom step. - -“I daren’t go up, I daren’t.” - -“Very well, then; stop where you are. I dare, and will.” - -Off I started; and, as I expected, directly I moved, she rushed after -me. - -“Oh, Pollie, don’t leave me, don’t. I’d sooner do anything than have -you leave me.” - -On that top floor there were again three rooms. And again, one of them -was empty. It was a sort of attic, at the back. So far as I could make -out it had no window at all; it was papered over if it had one. But -talk of rats! It was a larger room than the one below, and seemed to -be still more crowded. We could not only hear them, we could see them. -There they were, blinking at the candlelight out of the floor and -walls, and even ceiling. It was a cheerful prospect. I had heard of -rats, when they had got rid of everything else, eating human beings. -We two could do nothing against these multitudes; I felt sure that the -mere fright of being attacked would be enough to kill Emily. I said -nothing to her, but I thought of it all the same. - -The door next to the attic was fastened. Whether it was locked or not -I could not make out. It felt as solid as if it never had been opened, -and had been never meant to open. When I struck it with my knuckles, -it returned no sound. That it was something else besides a mere wooden -door was obvious. - -“Another treasure room!” I laughed. - -But Emily did not seem pleased. - -“I don’t like these locked-up rooms. What is there on the other side?” - -“I thought you were so fond of mystery.” - -“Not mystery like this.” She lowered her voice. “For all we know there -may be people inside, who, while we can’t get at them, can get at us -whenever they choose.” - -I laughed again; though conscious there was sense in what she said. - -“Let’s go and look at the other room and see if that’s locked up too.” - -But the door of that yielded at a touch. It, also, had had occupants -less than twenty years ago--a good deal less. It was furnished as a -bedroom. There was a chest of drawers, a washstand, toilet-table, -chairs, and a bed. On the latter the bedding was in disorder; sheets, -blankets, pillows tumbled anyhow, as if somebody, getting out of it in -a hurry, had had no time to put it straight. There was a lamp upon the -toilet table, the blackened chimney of which showed it had been -smoking; even yet the smell of a smoky lamp was in the air. The -drawers were all wide open. One, which had been pulled right out, was -turned upside down upon the floor, as if the quickest way had been -chosen to clear it of its contents. - -“It looks,” said Emily, standing in the doorway, looking round her -with doubtful eyes, and speaking as if she were saying something which -ought to have been left unspoken, “as if someone had just got out of -bed.” - -Throwing the bedclothes back, I laid my hand against the sheets. It -might have been my imagination, but they seemed warm, as if, since -someone had been between them, they had not had time to cool. Not -wishing to make her more nervous than she was already, I hardly knew -how to answer her; more especially as I myself did not feel -particularly comfortable. If, as appearances suggested, somebody had -been inside that bed, say, within the last half-hour, who could it -have been? and what had become of him or her, or them? Crossing to the -dressing-table, I touched the lamp-glass. It was hot, positively hot. -I could have sworn that it had been burning within the last ten -minutes or quarter of an hour. That was proof positive that someone -had been there--lamps do not burn unless somebody lights them, and -they do not go out unless somebody puts them out. Who could it have -been? The discovery--and the mystery!--so took me aback that it was -all I could do to keep myself from screaming. But, as Emily was nearly -off her head already, and I did not want to send her off it quite, I -just managed to keep my feelings under. All the same, I did not like -the aspect of things at all. - -To stop her from noticing too much, I tried my best to keep on -talking. - -“This is our bedroom, I suppose. How do you like the look of it? Not -over cheerful, is it?” - -“Cheerful?” I could see she shuddered. “Does any light ever get into -the room?” - -Where the window ought to have been were the usual massive and -immovable shutters. - -“The person who put up those shutters wasn’t fond of either light or -air. But you wait, I’ll have them down, I like plenty of both. You -heard Mr. Paine’s story about the shutters having made their -appearance in a night? If they did, then there was witchcraft used, or -I’m a Dutchman. It took weeks, if not months, to get them there. If -the walls have to be pulled to pieces I’ll have them moved. Give me a -week or two and you won’t know the place. I’ll turn it inside out and -upside down. Because Uncle Benjamin had his ideas of what a house -ought to be like, dark as pitch, and alive with rats, not to name -blackbeetles, it doesn’t follow that his ideas are mine, so I’ll show -him.” - -“We can’t do all that, you and I alone together.” - -“Catch me trying! Before we’re many hours older I’ll have an army of -workmen turned into the house.” - -“What about the conditions? No one is to be allowed to enter except us -two, especially no man.” - -“Bother the conditions! Do you think I mind them? Uncle Benjamin must -have been stark staring mad to think that I would. If I’m only to live -in such a place as this on such terms as those, then I’ll live out of -it--that’s all. By the way, where’s the envelope which was in that -box? I took it out of my dress pocket. ‘This envelope is for Mary -Blyth, and is not to be opened by her till she is inside 84, Camford -Street.’ Well, now Mary Blyth is inside 84, Camford Street--a nice, -sweet, clean, airy place she’s found it! So I suppose that now she may -open the envelope. Let’s hope that the contents are calculated to -liven you up, because I feel as if I wanted something a little -chirrupy.” - -Inside was a sheet of blue writing paper. It was not over clean, being -creased, and thumb-marked, and blotted too. On it was a letter, -written by somebody who was not much used to a pen. I recognised Uncle -Benjamin’s hand in a moment, especially because I remembered how, in -his letters to mother, which I had in my box, the lines kept getting -more and more slanting, until the last was screwed away in a corner, -because there was no room for it anywhere else. And here was just the -same thing. He began straight enough, right across the page, but, long -before he had reached the bottom, he was in the same old mess. - -“I need no ghost to tell me that this is from my venerated uncle. I -remember his beautiful neatness. Look at that, my dear, did you ever -see anything like those lines for straightness?” - -I held up the page for Emily to see. She actually smiled, for the -first time since she had been inside that house. - -“Now let’s see what the dear old creature says. Do hope it’s something -comforting. What’s this?” I began to read out aloud. - -“‘Dear Niece,--Now that you are once inside the house, you will -never sleep out of it again.’ Shan’t I? We shall see. Nice prospect, -upon my word. ‘You may think you will, but you won’t. The spell is on -you. It will grow in power. Each night it will draw you back. At your -peril do not struggle against it. Or may God have mercy on your soul.’ -This is--this is better and better. My dear, Uncle Benjamin must have -been very mad. ‘You are surrounded by enemies.’ Am I? I wasn’t till I -had your fortune. I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t have been -better off without it. ‘Out of the house you are at their mercy. They -watch you night and day. When you are out, they are ever at your -heels. Sooner or later they will have you. Then again may God have -mercy on your soul. But in the house you are safe. I have seen to -that. Do not be afraid of anything you may see or hear. _There is That -within these walls which holds you in the hollow of Its hand_.’ That -last line, my dear, is in italics. It strikes me that not only was -Uncle Bennie mad, but that writing novels ought to have been his -trade. As you are so fond of saying, this is something like a romance; -and I wish it wasn’t. Emily, what’s the matter with you now?” - -She had come to me with a sudden rush, gripping my arm with both her -hands--I doubt if she knew how hard. I could see that she was all of a -tremble. - -“I--I thought I heard someone downstairs.” - -“Not a doubt of it--rats.” - -“It--it wasn’t rats. It sounded like footsteps in the room beneath.” - -“When I’ve finished uncle’s letter we’ll investigate; but I think -you’ll find it was rats--they’ve got footsteps. Let me see, where was -I? Oh, yes--‘_Its hand_. Go out as little as you can.’ To be sure. I’m -not fond of going out--especially with such a house as this to stop -in. ‘Be always back before nine. It is then the hour of your greatest -peril begins. Should you ever be out after nine--which the gods -forbid--let no one see you enter. They will be watching for you in the -front. Go to Rosemary Street at the back. Between thirteen and -fourteen there is a passage. At the end there is a wall. Climb it. -There are two stanchions one above the other on the right. They will -help you. Drop into the yard. Go to the backdoor. You will see a spot -of light shining at you. Put the key in there. Turn three times to the -left. The door will open. Enter and close quickly lest your enemies be -upon you. If they enter with you may God have mercy on your soul. From -your affectionate uncle, Benjamin Batters. P.S.--You will find the -back door key on the parlour table.’ Shall I? That’s story number one -at any rate. I haven’t found any back door key on the parlour table, -and I never saw one there. Did you?” - -“There--wasn’t one--I noticed--there was nothing on the table--when -you put that bangle down.” - -I wished Emily would not speak in that stammering way, as if there was -a full stop between each word or two. But I knew it was not the -slightest use my saying so just then; that was how she felt. - -“Of course. I did leave that bangle on the table, didn’t I? That’s one -thing which we’ve found in uncle’s dear old house which seems worth -having; and one thing’s something. Let’s go and have another look at -it.” - -Down the stairs again we went; Emily sticking close to my side as if -she would rather have suffered anything than have let me get a yard -away from her. One of the pleasantest features of my new possession -seemed to be that every time we moved from one room to another about a -hundred thousand rats got flurried; it sounded like a hundred thousand -by the din they made. And Emily did not like them scurrying up and -down the stairs when she was on them; nor, so far as that went, did I -either. - -When we reached the parlour, I made a dart at the table. - -“Why, where’s that bangle? I put it down just there, I remember most -distinctly. Emily, it’s gone! Whatever’s this? I do believe--it’s that -back-door key!” - -It was, at any rate, a key; and bore a family likeness to the one -which was attached to the chain which was about my waist. I stared, -scarcely able to credit the evidence of my own senses. Between our -going from that room and our returning to it a miracle had happened; a -transformation had taken place; a bangle--and such a bangle! had -become a key. Apparently the back-door key of Uncle Benjamin’s “P.S.!” - - - - - BOOK II. - 84, CAMFORD STREET. - - (THE FACTS OF THE CASE ACCORDING TO EMILY PURVIS.) - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - MAX LANDER. - -Talk about romance! I never could have believed that after wishing -for a thing your whole life long you could have had enough of it in so -short a space of time. In the morning Pollie Blyth heard, for the very -first time, that a fortune and a house had been left to her, and, -before the night of that same day was over, she wished that it had -not. And here had I been looking, ever since I was a teeny-weeny -little thing, for a touch of romance to give existence a real live -flavour, and then, when I got it, the best I could do was to wonder -how I had been so silly as ever to have wanted it. - -Poor Pollie! That first night in Camford Street she would go out. She -said she must go and see her Tom. That he would be waiting, wondering -what had become of her, and that nothing should keep her from him. -Nothing did. I could not. And when I suggested that it might be as -well for her to be a little careful what she did that very first -night, she actually proposed that I should stop in that awful house by -myself, and wait in it alone till she returned. - -I would not have done such a thing for worlds, and she knew it. As a -matter of fact I could not have said if I was more unwilling to leave -the place, or to stay in it, even with her. The extraordinary -conditions of her dreadful old uncle’s horrible will weighed on me -much more than they seemed to do on her. I felt sure that something -frightful would happen if they were not strictly observed. Nothing -could be clearer than his repeated injunction not to be out after -nine, and her appointment with Mr. Cooper was for half-past eight. - -Cardew and Slaughter are supposed to close at eight, but she knew as -well as I did what that really meant. It was a wonder if one of the -assistants got out before nine. Mr. Cooper was in the heavy, and the -gentlemen in that department were always last. If he appeared till -after nine I should be surprised, and, if we were at the other end of -London at that hour, with the uncle’s will staring us in the face, -what would become of us? Being locked out of Cardew and Slaughter’s -was nothing to what that would mean. - -But Pollie would not listen to a word. She is as obstinate as -obstinate when she likes, though she may not think it. - -“My dear,” she said, “I must see Tom. Mustn’t I see Tom? If you were -in my place, and he was your Tom, wouldn’t you feel that you must see -him?” - -There was something in that I acknowledged. It was frightful that you -should be cut off from intercourse with the man you loved simply -because your hours would not fit his. But then there was so much to be -said upon the other side. - -“I’m sure he’ll be punctual to-night, he’ll be so anxious. And you -know sometimes he can get off a little earlier if he makes an effort. -You see if he isn’t there at half-past eight. I’ll just speak to him, -then start off back at once. He’ll come with us, we shall be back here -before nine, and then he’ll leave us at the door.” - -That was how it was to turn out, according to her. I had my doubts. -When you are with the man to whom you are engaged to be married half -an hour is nothing. It’s gone before you know it’s begun. - -It was eight o’clock when we left the house. I thought we should never -have left it at all. We could not open the door. It had no regular -handle; no regular anything. While we were trying to get it open the -house was filled with the most extraordinary noises. If it was all -rats, as Pollie declared, then rats have got more ways of expressing -their feelings than I had imagined. It seemed to me as if the place -was haunted by mysterious voices which were warning us to be careful -of what we did. - -“Of course if we’re prisoners it’s just as well that we should know it -now as later on. How do you open this door?” - -Just as she spoke the door opened. - -“How did you do that?” I asked. - -“I don’t know.” She seemed surprised. “I was just pushing at the thing -when--it came open. There’s a trick about it I expect; we’ll find out -what it is to-morrow, there’s no time now. At present it’s enough that -it’s open; out you go!” - -When we were out in the street, and she pulled it to, it shut behind -us with an ominous clang, like the iron gates used to do in the -barons’ castle which we read about in the days of old. We took the -tram in the Westminster Bridge Road, then walked the rest of the way. -It was half-past eight when we arrived. As I expected, of course Mr. -Cooper wasn’t there. - -“Pollie, we ought not to stop. We ought to be in before nine this -first night, at any rate. We don’t know what will happen if we’re -not.” - -“You can go back if you like, but I must and will see Tom.” - -Nine o’clock came and still no Mr. Cooper. I was in such a state I was -ready to drop. It was nearly a quarter-past before he turned up. Then -they both began talking together at such a rate that it was impossible -to get a word in edgeways. When I did succeed in bringing Pollie to -some consciousness of the position we were in, and she asked Mr. -Cooper to start back with us at once, he would not go. He said that he -had had such a narrow escape the night before, and had had such -difficulty in getting in--so far as I could make out he had had to -climb up a pipe, or something, and had scraped a hole in both knees of -his trousers against the wall--that he had determined that it should -be some time before he ran such a risk again, and had therefore made -up his mind that he would be in extra early as a sort of set-off. It -was no good Pollie talking. For some cause or other he did not seem to -be in the best of tempers. And then, when she found that, after all -our waiting, he would not see us home, she got excited. They began -saying things to each other which they never meant. So they -quarrelled. - -Finally Mr. Cooper marched off in a rage, declaring that now she had -come into a fortune she looked upon him as a servant, and that though -she had inherited £488 9s. 6d. a year, and a house, he would not be -treated like a lackey. She was in such a fury that she was almost -crying. She assured me that she would never speak to him again until -she was compelled, and that they would both be grey before that time -came. All I wanted to do was to keep outside the quarrel, because they -had behaved like a couple of stupids, and to find myself in safe -quarters for the night. - -“I don’t know, my dear Pollie, if you’re aware that it’s past -half-past ten. Do you propose to return to Camford Street?” - -“Past half-past ten!” She started. Her thoughts flew off to Mr. -Cooper. “Then he’ll be late again! Whatever will he do?” - -“It’s not of what he’ll do I’m thinking, but of what we’re going to -do. After what your uncle said, do you propose to return to Camford -Street at this hour of the night?” - -“We shall have to. There’s nowhere else to go. I wish I’d never come -to see him now; it hasn’t been a very pleasant interview, I’m sure.” I -cordially agreed with her--I wished she had not. But it was too late -to shut the stable-door after the steed was stolen. “Let’s hurry. -There’s one thing, I’ve got the back-door key in my pocket, if the -worst does come to the worst.” - -What she meant I do not think she quite knew herself. She was in a -state of mind in which she was inclined to talk at random. - -We had not gone fifty yards when a man, coming to us from across the -street, took off his hat to Pollie. I had noticed him when she was -having her argument with Mr. Cooper, and had felt sure that he was -watching us. There was something about the way in which he kept -walking up and down which I had not liked, and now that Mr. Cooper had -gone I was not at all surprised that he accosted us. He looked about -thirty; had a short light brown beard and whiskers, which were very -nicely trimmed; a pair of those very pale blue eyes which are almost -the colour of steel; and there was something about him which made one -think that he had spent most of his life in open air. He wore what -looked, in that light--he had stopped us almost immediately under a -gas-lamp--like a navy blue serge suit and a black bowler hat. - -“Miss Blyth, I believe, the niece of my old friend Batters. My name is -Max Lander. Perhaps you have heard him speak of me.” - -His manner could not have been more civil. Yet, under the -circumstances, it was not singular that Pollie shrank from being -addressed by a stranger. Putting her arm through mine, she looked him -in the face. - -“I don’t know you.” - -“Have you never heard your uncle speak of me--Max Lander?” - -“I never knew my uncle.” - -“You never knew your uncle?” He spoke, in echoing her words, almost as -if he doubted her. “Then where is your uncle now?” - -“He is dead.” - -“Dead?” - -“If you knew my uncle, as you say you did, you must know that he is -dead. Come, Emily, let us go. I think this gentleman has made a -mistake.” - -“Stop, Miss Blyth, I beg of you. Where did your uncle die?” - -“I don’t know where exactly, it was somewhere in Australia.” - -“In Australia!” I never saw surprise written more plainly on a -person’s face. “But when?” - -“If, as you say, you knew him, then you ought to know better than I, -who never did.” - -“When I last saw Mr. Batters he didn’t look as if he meant to die.” - -He gave a short laugh, as if he were enjoying some curious little joke -of his own. - -“Where did you see him last?” - -“On the _Flying Scud_.” - -“The _Flying Scud_? What’s that?” - -“My ship. Or, rather, it was my ship. The devil knows whose it is -now.” - -“Mr. Lander, if that really is your name, I don’t know anything about -my uncle, except that he is dead. Was he a sailor?” - -“A sailor?” He seemed as if he could not make her out. I stood close -to him, so that I saw him well; it struck me that he looked at her -with suspicion in his eyes. “He was no sailor. At least, so far as I -know. But he was the most remarkable man who ever drew breath. In -saying that I’m saying little. You can’t know much of him if you don’t -know so much. Then, if he’s dead, where’s Luke?” - -He spoke with sudden heat, as if a thought had all at once occurred to -him. - -“Luke? What is Luke?--another ship?” - -“Another ship? Great Cæsar!” Taking off his hat, he ran his fingers -through his short brown hair. “Miss Blyth, either you’re a chip of the -old block, in which case I’m sorry for you, and for myself too, or, -somewhere, there’s something very queer. Hollo! Who are you?” - -While we had been talking a man had been sidling towards us along the -pavement. He had on a long black coat, and a hat crammed over his -eyes. As he passed behind Mr. Lander he stopped. Mr. Lander spun -round. On the instant he tore off as if for his life. Without a -moment’s hesitation Mr. Lander rushed full speed after him. Pollie and -I stood staring in the direction they had gone. - -“Whatever is the matter now?” I asked. “What did the man do to Mr. -Lander?” - -“Emily, that’s the man who slipped the paper into my hand last -night--you remember? There’s a cab across the road; let’s get into it -and get away from here as fast as we can.” - -We crossed and hailed the cabman. As he drew up beside the kerb, and -we were about to enter, who should come tearing over the road to us -again but Mr. Lander. He was panting for breath. - -“Miss Blyth, I do beg that you will let me speak to you. If not here, -then let me come with you and speak to you elsewhere.” - -“I would rather you did not come with us, thank you, I would very much -rather that you did not.” - -He stood with his hand on the apron of the hansom in such a way that -he prevented us from entering. - -“Miss Blyth, you don’t look like your uncle--God forbid! You look -honest and true. If you have a woman’s heart in your bosom I entreat -you to hear me. Your uncle did me the greatest injury a man could have -done. I implore you to help me to undo that injury, so far as, by the -grace of God, it can be undone.” - -He spoke in a strain of passion which I could see that Pollie did not -altogether relish. I didn’t either. - -“I will give you my solicitor’s name and address, then you can call on -him, and tell him all you have to say.” - -“Your solicitor! I don’t want to speak to your solicitor; he may be -another rogue like your uncle. I want to speak to you.” - -Before Pollie could answer, another man came up. He touched his hat to -Mr. Lander. - -“I beg your pardon, sir, but this is the young lady I told you about. -Miss Blyth will remember me, because I was so fortunate as to do her a -small service last night. May I hope, Miss Blyth, that you have not -forgotten me?” - -The man spoke in a small, squeaky voice, which was in ridiculous -contrast to his enormous size. It was actually the creature who had -paid the bill for us the night before at Firandolo’s--one shilling and -threepence! My impulse was to take out my purse, give him this money, -and be rid of him for good and all. But, before I had a chance of -doing so, Mr. Lander turned upon him in quite a passion. - -“What do you mean by thrusting in your oar? Get out of it, Ike Rudd!” - -“I beg your pardon, sir, I’m sure, if I’m intruding, and the young -lady’s; but, seeing that I was able to do her a little service, I -thought that perhaps she might be willing----” - -Mr. Lander cut him short with a positive roar. - -“Don’t you hear me tell you to take yourself out of this, you -blundering ass!” - -In his anger with Mr. Rudd he moved away from the cab. Without a -moment’s delay Pollie jumped into it, and dragged me after her. - -“Drive off, and don’t stop for anyone!” - -It was done so quickly that before Mr. Lander had an opportunity to -realise what was happening the driver gave his horse a cut of the -whip. The creature gave a bound which it was a wonder to me did not -upset the hansom, and when his master struck him again he galloped off -as if he were racing for the Derby. - -After we had gone a little way--at full pelt!--the driver spoke to us -through the trap-door overhead. - -“Where to, miss?” - -“Is he following us?” - -“Not he. He tried a step or two, but when he saw at what a lick we -were going he jerked it up. He went back and had a row with the other -chap instead, the one who came up and spoke to him I mean. They’re at -it now. Has he been bothering you, miss?” - -“I don’t know anything at all about him. He’s a perfect stranger to -me. I think he must be mad. Drive us to the Westminster Bridge Road, -if you are sure that he’s not following.” - -“I’ll see that that’s all right, you trust me.” He swung round a -corner. “He’s out of sight now, I should think for good; but if he -does come in sight again I’ll let you know. What part of the -Westminster Bridge Road?” - -Pollie hesitated. - -“I’ll tell you when we get there.” - - - - - CHAPTER X. - BETWEEN 13 AND 14, ROSEMARY STREET. - -A church clock struck as we rolled along. - -“That sounds like nine--a quarter-past eleven. What shall you do if we -can’t get in at all?” - -“Not get into my own house? My dear, this is not a case of Cardew and -Slaughter’s. What is going to keep me out of my own house--if I choose -to enter it with the milk!--I should like to know.” - -I did not know. I could not even guess. But all the same I had a sort -of feeling that someone could--and might. “My own house” came glibly -from her tongue. That morning there had been ten shillings between her -and the workhouse; already she had become quite the woman of -established means. I might have been the same had the case been mine. -You never know. It must be so nice to have something of your very own. - -We were nearing the Westminster Bridge Road. Again the driver spoke to -us from above; he had hardly slackened pace the whole of the way. - -“Coast clear, miss; not had a sight of the party since we lost him. -Where shall I put you down?” - -“I’ll stop you in a minute; keep on to the left.” Pollie spoke to me. -“What did it say in the letter was the name of the street in which is -the entrance to the back door?” - -“Rosemary Street.” - -“Of course! I couldn’t remember its stupid name.” - -“But I shouldn’t tell him to put us down just there. You don’t know -who may be waiting for us.” - -I was leaning over the front of the cab, keeping a sharp look-out. -There were the crowded trams and omnibuses, and many people on the -pavements; but I noticed nothing in any way suspicious. - -“Who should be waiting for us? Haven’t we shaken Mr. Lander off? -Didn’t the cabman say so?” - -“Yes. But--you never know.” - -“What do you mean? What are you driving at?” - -“Nothing. Only it’s past nine. The letter said that it was the time -your greatest peril began.” - -“What nonsense you do talk! Do you think I pay attention to such -stuff? Lucky I’m not nervous, or you’d give me the fidgets. The sooner -everybody understands that I intend to go in and out of my own house -at any time I please the less trouble there is likely to be. I’m not a -child, to be told at what time I’m to come home.” - -I was silent. She spoke boldly enough; a trifle too boldly I thought. -There was an unnecessary amount of vigour in her tone, as if she -wished to impress the whole world with the fact that she was not in -the least concerned. But she acted on the hint all the same--she -stopped the cab before we reached our destination. - -“It’s all right now, miss,” said the driver. It was rather a novel -sensation for us to be riding in cabs, and the fare we paid him did -make a hole in one’s purse. It was lucky there was that four hundred -and eighty-eight pounds nineteen shillings and sixpence to fall back -upon. “You’ve seen the last of that fine gentleman, for to-night at -any rate. Good-night, miss, and thank you.” - -I was not so sure that it was all right. We might have seen the last -of “that fine gentleman,” as the cabman called Mr. Lander, though -there was nothing particularly “fine” about him that I could see; but -there might be other gentlemen, still less “fine,” who had yet to be -interviewed. When the hansom had driven off, as we walked along the -pavement, I felt more and more uncomfortable, though I would not have -hinted at anything of the kind to Pollie for worlds. - -“Have we passed Camford Street?” she wondered. “I don’t know which -side of it is Rosemary Street.” - -“I’m sure I don’t. You had better ask.” - -We were standing at the corner of a narrow street, a pretty dark and -deserted one it seemed. Pollie turned to make enquiries of some -passer-by. A man came towards us. - -“Can you tell me which is Rosemary Street?” she said. - -“This way! this way!” - -He took her by the arm and led her into a gloomy-looking street, as if -he were showing her the way. She must have been purblind, or -completely off her guard, to have been tricked by him so easily, -because directly he spoke I recognised him as the person in the long -black coat who had fled from Mr. Lander. I myself was taken by -surprise, or I would have called out and warned her. But I suppose -that I was bewildered by his sudden and wholly unexpected appearance, -because, instead of bidding her look out, I went after her into the -narrow lane, for really it seemed to be no more. - -The moment we were round the corner two other figures appeared out of -the darkness as if by magic. But by now Pollie had taken the alarm. - -“Let me go!” she cried to her conductor. “Take your hand away from my -arm!” - -He showed no inclination to do anything of the kind. - -“This way! this way!” he kept repeating, as if he were a parrot. He -spoke with a strong foreign accent--as if his stock of English was not -a large one. - -But Pollie was not to be so easily persuaded. She stood stock still, -evincing every disposition to shake herself free from his grasp. - -“Let me go! let me go!” - -The taller of the two newcomers uttered some words in a language which -I had never heard before. Giving Pollie no time to guess what he was -about to do he produced a cloth and threw it over her head. The other -man sprang at her like a wild animal. Between them they began to bear -her to the ground. I was not going to stand quietly by and see that -kind of thing go on. I may not be big, and I do not pretend to be -brave, but I am not an absolute coward all the same. - -The smaller of the newcomers had taken me by the arm. I did my best to -make him wish that he had not. I flew at him. - -“You villain! Let me go, or I’ll scratch your eyes out!” - -The little wretch--he was little; I do not believe he was any bigger -than I was, or perhaps I should not be alive to tell this -tale--actually tried to throw a cloth over my head. When I put up my -arms, and stopped his doing that, he began to dab it against my mouth, -as if to prevent my screaming. There was a nasty smell about that -cloth. It was damp. All of a sudden it struck me that he was trying to -take away my senses with chloroform, or some awful stuff of that kind. -And then didn’t I start shrieking; I should think they might have -heard me on the other side of the bridge. - -In less than no time--or so it seemed to me--a policeman came round -the corner. Apparently he was the only one who had heard; but he was -quite enough. - -“What’s the matter here?” How I could have kissed him for his dear -official voice. “What’s the meaning of all this?” - -Those three cowards did not wait to explain. Really before the words -were out of his lips they were off down the lane like streaks of -lightning. All my man left behind him was the smell of his horrid -cloth. Beyond disarranging my hat and my hair, and that kind of thing, -I knew that he had not damaged me almost before, so to speak, I -examined myself to see. - -“Has he hurt you?” asked the constable. “What was he trying to do?” - -“He has not hurt me, thanks to you; but in another half second I’m -quite sure he would have done. He was trying to chloroform me, or -something frightful, I smelt it on his cloth.” - -“Who’s this on the ground?” - -It was Pollie. In my excitement I had quite forgotten to notice what -had become of her. She lay all of a heap. Down I plumped on my knees -beside her. - -“Pollie!” I cried. “Has he killed you?” - -“No fear,” said the policeman. “She’s only a bit queer. I shouldn’t be -surprised if they’ve played the same sort of trick on her they tried -to play on you.” - -It was so. That policeman was a most intelligent man, and quite -good-looking, with a fair moustache which turned up a little at the -ends. They had endeavoured to stupefy her with some drug; the -policemen said he didn’t think it was chloroform, it didn’t smell like -it. I didn’t know--to my knowledge I have never smelt chloroform in my -life, nor do I ever want to. They had so far succeeded that she had -nearly lost her senses, but not entirely. When I lifted her head she -gave several convulsive twitches, so that it was all I could do to -retain my hold. Then she opened her eyes and she asked where she was. - -“It’s all right,” I told her. “They’ve gone. I hope they haven’t hurt -you.” - -She sat up, and she looked about her. She saw me, and she saw the -constable, which fact she at once made plain. - -“Oh, you’re a policeman, are you? It’s as well that there are such -things as policemen after all.” Her meaning was not precisely clear, -but I hardly think it was altogether flattering to the force, which -was ungrateful on her part. “I don’t think they’ve hurt me. I believe -it was the keys they were after, though they’ve left them both behind. -Perhaps that was because they hadn’t time to properly search for -them.” She was feeling in her pocket. “But they have taken Uncle -Benjamin’s letter--the one in which he told us how to get in at the -back door.” - -There was a pause. I realised all that the abstraction might mean. If -it had told us how to enter, it would tell them too. It was lucky they -had had to go without the key. - -“Do you know the men?” inquired the officer. “You had better charge -them.” - -“Charge them?” She put her hand up to her head, as if she were dazed. -I rather fancied she was making as much of her feelings as she could. -Unless I was mistaken she was endeavouring to gain time to consider -the policeman’s words. Under the circumstances it might not be -altogether convenient to charge them, even though they had proved -themselves to be such utter scoundrels. “But I don’t know what men -they were.” - -“That doesn’t matter; I daresay we know. You mustn’t allow an outrage -like this to pass unnoticed; they might have murdered you. I’ll take -the charge.” - -“Thank you.” She stood up. He had produced his notebook. “I don’t -think I’ll trouble you. There are circumstances connected with the -matter which render it necessary that I should think it over.” - -“What’s there to think about? It was an attempt to rob with violence, -that’s what it was; as clear a case as ever I knew. Come, give me your -name, miss, then I’ll have the particulars. What name?” - -“I’m afraid you must excuse me. When I’ve thought the matter over you -shall hear from me again, but I cannot act without consideration. -Thank you all the same.” - -She carried it off with an air which took the constable aback. He was -not best pleased. He eyed her for a second or two, then he closed his -notebook with a snap. - -“Very good. Of course, if you won’t make a charge I can’t take it. All -I can say is, that if you find yourself in the same hole again, it’ll -about serve you right if no one comes to help you. It’s because people -won’t go into court that there’s so much of this sort of thing about. -What’s the good of having laws if you won’t let them protect you.” - -Off he strode in a huff. I stared after him a little blankly. - -“I don’t think, Pollie, that you need have been quite so short with -him. What he says is true; we might have been murdered if it hadn’t -been for him.” - -“I wasn’t short with him; I didn’t mean to be. But I couldn’t charge -them--could I? Besides, I want to get in. I didn’t want to have him -hanging about, for I don’t know how long, watching us.” - -“Someone else may be watching us.” - -“No fear of that; they’ve had enough of it for to-night.” - -“So you said before, and hardly had you said there was nothing to fear -when they had us at their mercy. It’s my belief that what your uncle -said in that letter--which now they’ve got--is true, and that we are -in peril, dreadful peril, and that though we mayn’t know it someone is -watching us all the time. For my part I should like that policeman to -have kept his eye upon us until we were safe indoors.” - -“After what my uncle said about allowing no one to see us enter?” - -“It’s a pity you are not equally particular about everything your -uncle said, my dear.” - -Off we started down the lane, or street, or whatever it was. If I had -had my way, after all that had happened, I would not have attempted to -enter the house until at any rate next morning; I would rather have -wandered about the streets all night. But I could see that she was set -on at least trying to get in. I did not wish to quarrel, or to be -accused of a wish to desert her after promising to be her companion. -So I stuck to her side. Presently she spoke. - -“Do you know, Emily, I believe I haven’t got the very clearest -recollection of the directions in uncle’s letter. Didn’t he say -something about a passage?” - -“He said that there was one between 13 and 14 Rosemary Street. The -question is, is this Rosemary Street? We don’t know.” - -“We’ll soon find out. Which are 13 and 14? It’s so dark it’s hard to -tell.” - -It was dark; which fact lent an additional charm to the situation. On -one side were the backs of what seemed like mews; all they presented -to us was a high dead wall. On the other was a row of cottages. If -they were occupied all the inhabitants were in bed. There was not a -light to be seen at any of the windows. Pollie began to peer at the -numbers on the doors. - -“This is 26.” She passed on. “And this is 25; so 13 and 14 must be -this way.” We went farther along the street. “Here is 14--and here’s -the passage.” - -There was a passage, between two of the mean little houses. But so -narrow an one that, if we had not been on the look-out for it, we -should have passed it by unnoticed. Such was the darkness that we -could not see six feet down it, so that it was impossible to tell -where it led to, or what was at the end. I did not like the idea of -venturing into it at all. I would have given almost anything to have -flown down the street and sought the protection of that nice -policeman. My heart was going pitter patter; I could feel it knocking -against my corsets. I did not know if Pollie really was nervous, -though I do not believe that it was in feminine human nature to have -been anything else; but she behaved as though she wasn’t. I could not -have made believe so well. She apparently did not hesitate about what -was the best, and proper, and only thing to do. There was not even a -tremor in her voice. - -“What did uncle say--at the end there is a wall?” - -“I--I think he did.” - -“Then now for the wall.” - -She dashed into the passage. I was afraid to do anything else--and she -did not give me a chance to remonstrate--so I went after her. I am -thankful to say that nothing happened to us as we went, though I -seemed to see and hear all sorts of things. After we had gone what -appeared to be a mile Pollie suddenly stopped. - -“Here is the wall. Now to climb it. Didn’t uncle say we should find -two stanchions? Was it on the right or on the left? Here they are, on -the right; at least, I suppose they’re stanchions. They feel like two -pieces of iron driven into the brickwork. Now for a climb. One good -thing--the wall isn’t high.” - -Since I could only perceive her dim outline, and didn’t wish to have -her vanish altogether in the darkness, I had kept my hand on her. I -could feel, rather than see, her going through the motions of -climbing. I was conscious she had reached the top. - -“Now, Emily, you come. It’s easy; give me your hand.” - -I gave her my hand. In a second or two I was beside her, on the crest -of the wall. - -“Now let’s go together, it’s nothing of a drop.” - -As she said, it was nothing of a drop, and we went together. I suppose -the wall was not much, if at all, over five feet in height. We landed -on what felt like a pavement of bricks. - -“It’s a pity it’s so dark. Here it’s worse than ever. I can’t see my -hand before my face, can you?” - -I could not. I told her so. - -“Well, we’ll have to feel, that’s all; and we’ll hope that we’re in -the right backyard. It would be something more than a joke if we -weren’t; they might take us for burglars. Come on; give me your hand -again; we’ll feel our way--tread carefully whatever you do. Hollo! -here is a door. And--Emily, there’s the spot of light! Do you see it -there upon the door? As uncle says, it shines at us. Whether it’s -luminous paint, or whether it’s something much more wonderful, truly, -it lightens our darkness. Doesn’t it, my dear? Where is that key?” - -I could see, straight in front of us, a round spot of something which -gleamed. It was not bigger than a threepenny piece. It might have been -a monster glow-worm. Or, as Polly said, a dab of luminous paint. But -there was no time to ascertain what it was, because, almost as soon as -I saw it, I heard something too. - -“Pollie, there’s someone coming along the passage.” - -In the silence, there was what was obviously the sound of feet, feet -which were apparently moving as if they did not wish to be heard. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - ONE WAY IN. - -I heard her fumbling with her pocket. - -“I can’t find the thing; I had it just now; I can’t have dropped it.” - -“Oh, Pollie! Quick! they’re at the wall!” - -There was a scraping noise from behind; a muffled whispering. It -sounded as if someone was endeavouring to negotiate the obstacle we -had just surmounted. Still Pollie was continuing her researches. - -“Where can I have put the thing?” - -“Can’t you find it? Oh, Pollie!” - -Someone was on the wall; had dropped softly to the ground. The sound -of his alighting feet was distinctly audible. There was a pause, as if -for someone to follow. It was the pause which saved us. As I waited, -with my heart actually banging against my ribs, my legs giving way at -the knees, expecting every second that someone would come darting at -us through the darkness, just in time to save me from toppling in a -heap on to the ground Pollie found the key. - -“I’ve got it! What did uncle say I was to do with it? Push it against -the spot of light--and then? I’ve got it into the keyhole; can’t you -remember what uncle said I was to do with it then? It turns round and -round.” - -“Pollie!--they’re coming!” - -They were. There was the sound of advancing footsteps. Approaching -forms loomed dimly through the darkness. That same instant Pollie -caught the trick of it; the door opened. - -“Inside!” she gasped. - -I was inside, moving faster than I had ever done in my life before. -And Pollie was after me. The door shut behind us, seemingly of its own -accord, with a kind of groan. - -“That was a near thing!” - -It could hardly have been nearer. Whoever was upon our heels had -almost effected a simultaneous entrance with ourselves. - -“He made a grab at my skirt; I felt his hand!” - -But the door had closed so quickly that whoever was there had had no -time to make an attempt to keep it open. It was pitch dark within, -darker almost than it had been without. Pollie pressed close to my -side. The fingers of one of her hands interlaced themselves with mine; -she gripped me tighter than she perhaps thought. Her lips were near my -ear; she spoke as if she were short of breath. - -“There’s a good spring upon that door; it moved a bit too fast for -them; it shuts like a rat-trap. Listen!” - -There was no need to bid me to do that; already my sense of hearing -was on the strain. Someone, apparently, was trying the door; to see if -it was really shut; or if it could not be induced to open again. - -There were voices in whispered consultation. - -“There’s more than one; I wondered if there was more than one.” - -“There are three,” I said. - -Presently someone struck the door lightly, with the palm of the hand, -or with the fist. Then, more forcibly, a rain of blows. Unless I was -mistaken, the assault came from more than one pair of hands; it was -like an attack made in the impotence of childish passion. The voices -were raised, as if they called to us. They were like none which either -of us had ever heard before; there was a curious squeakiness about -them, as if their natural tone was a falsetto. What they said was -gibberish to us; it was uttered in an unknown tongue. The voices -ceased. After an interval, during which, one suspected, their owners -had withdrawn a step or two to consider the situation, one was raised -alone. It had in it a threatening quality, as if it warned us of the -pains and penalties we were incurring. The fact that we were being -addressed in a language which was, to us, completely strange, seemed -at that moment to have about it something dreadful. Audibly, we paid -no heed. Only I felt Pollie’s grip growing tighter and tighter. I -wondered if she knew that she would crush my fingers if she did not -take care. - -The single speaker ceased to hurl at us his imprecations. I felt sure -it was bad language he was using. All was still. - -“What are they doing?” - -So close were Pollie’s lips her whispered words tickled my ear. We had -not long to wait before the answer came--in the shape of a smashing -blow directed against the door. - -“They’re trying to break it down; they’ll soon wake up the -neighbourhood if they make that noise. Let’s get farther into the -house. Why--whatever’s that?” - -She had turned. In doing so she had pulled me half round with her. Her -words caused me to glance about in the darkness, searching for some -new terror. Nor was I long in learning what had caused her -exclamation. There, glaring at us through the inky blackness in -flaming letters, a foot in length, were the words “_TOO LATE!_” -Beneath them was some hideous creature’s head. - -For a second or two, in the first shock of surprise, I imagined it to -be the head of some actual man, or, rather, monster. As it gleamed -there, with its wide open jaws, huge teeth and flashing eyes, it was -like the vivid realisation of some dreadful nightmare. It was as if -something of horror, which had haunted us in sleep, had suddenly taken -on itself some tangible shape and form. So irresistible was this -impression, so unexpected was the shock of discovering it, that I -believe, if Pollie had not caught hold of me with both her hands, and -held me up, I should have fallen to the floor. As it was I reeled and -staggered, so that I daresay it needed all her strength to keep me -perpendicular. It was her voice, addressing me in earnest, half angry, -expostulation which reassured me--at least in part. - -“You goose! Don’t you see that it’s a picture drawn with phosphorus, -or luminous paint, or something, on the wall. It won’t bite you; -you’re not afraid of a picture, child.” - -It was a picture; and, when you came to look into it, not a -particularly well-drawn one either. Though I could not understand how -we had missed seeing it so soon as we had entered--unless the -explanation was that it had only just been put there. And, if that was -the case, by whom? and how? A brief inspection was enough to show that -the thing was more like one of those masks which boys wear on Guy -Fawkes’ day than anything else. It was just as ridiculous, and just as -much like anything in heaven or earth. - -“Let’s get out of this; let’s go into the house; why do you stop in -this horrid place? Where’s the door?” - -“That’s the question--Where is it? Uncle Benjamin’s ideas of the -proper way of getting in and out of a house are a little too ingenious -for me; we seem to be in a sort of entry with nothing but walls all -round us. Haven’t you a match? Didn’t you take a box out with you? For -goodness sake don’t say you’ve lost it.” - -I had not lost it, fortunately for us. I gave it to her. She struck a -light. As she did so, the face and the writing on the wall grew -dimmer. They were only visible when, standing before the flame, she -cast them into shadow. - -“Well, this is a pretty state of things, upon my word! There doesn’t -seem to be a door!” - -There did not. The flickering match served to show that we were in -what looked uncommonly like an ingenious trap. We were in what seemed -to be a sort of vault, or cell, which was just large enough to enable -us to turn about with a tolerable amount of freedom, and that was all. -Semblance of a door there was none, not even of that by which we had -entered. So far as could be judged by that imperfect light on all four -sides were dirty, discoloured, bare walls, in not one of which was -there a crack or crevice which suggested a means of going out or in. -As Pollie had said, it was indeed a pretty state of things. It seemed -that we were prisoners, and in a prison from which there was no way -out. Our situation reminded me of terrible stories which I had read -about the Spanish Inquisition; of the sufferings of men and women, and -even girls, who had spent weeks, and months, and years, in hidden -dungeons out of which they had never come alive again. - -Just as I had begun to really realise the fact that there did not seem -to be a door, Pollie’s match went out. That same moment there came a -fresh crash from without. And, directly after, another sound, or, -rather, sounds. Something was taking place outside which, to us, shut -in there, sounded uncommonly like a scrimmage, or the beginning of -one, at any rate. Someone else, apparently, had climbed over the wall, -a weighty someone, for we heard him descend with a ponderous flop. -Without a doubt, the first comers had heard him too, with misgivings. -Something fell, with a clatter--perhaps the tool with which they had -been assailing the door. There was a scurrying of feet, as of persons -eager to seek safety in flight. An exclamation or two, it seemed to us -in English; then a thud, as if some soft and heavy body had come in -sudden contact with the ground. A momentary silence. Then what was -unmistakably an official voice, a beautiful and a blessed voice it -sounded to me just then. - -“All right, my lads! A little tricky, aren’t you? I daresay you think -you did that very neat. You wait a bit. Next time it’ll be my turn, -then perhaps I’ll show you a dodge or two.” - -“Pollie,” I exclaimed, “it’s that nice policeman!” - -“Hush! What if it is?” - -What if it is? Everything--to me. It meant the flight of mystery, and -an opportunity to breathe again. If I could have had my way I would -have rushed out into the back yard and hugged him. But Pollie was so -cold, and--when she liked and her precious Tom wasn’t concerned--so -self-contained. She froze me. I could hear his dear big feet stamping -across the yard. He thumped against the door--and I perhaps within an -inch of him and not allowed to say a word. - -“Inside there! Is there anyone in there?” There was; there was me. I -longed to tell him so, only Pollie’s grasp closed so tightly on my -arm--I knew it would be black and blue in the morning--that I did not -dare. “Isn’t there a bell or a knocker? This seems to be a queer sort -of a house. There’s something fishy about the place, or I’m mistaken.” - -I could have assured him that he was not mistaken, and would if it had -not been for Pollie. I could picture him in my mind’s eyes flashing -the rays of his bull’s-eye lantern in search of something by means of -which he could acquaint the inhabitants within of his presence there -without--in his innocence! As if we did not know that he was there. -For some minutes--it seemed hours to me--he prowled about, patiently -looking for what he could not find. Then, giving up the quest in -despair, he strode across the yard, climbed heavily over the wall, -stamped along the passage; we could hear his footsteps even in the -street beyond. - -Then I ventured to use my tongue. - -“Pollie, why wouldn’t you let me speak to him? Why wouldn’t you let me -tell him we were here?” - -“And a nice fuss there’d have been. No, thanks, my dear. Before I call -in the assistance of the police I should like to turn the matter over -in my mind. It begins to strike me that where my Uncle Benjamin had -reasons for concealment, I may have reasons too, at any rate until I -know just what there is to conceal.” - -“In the meanwhile, how are we to get out of here? We’re trapped.” - -“It’s the ingenuity with which Uncle Ben, or somebody, has guarded the -approach to his, or, rather, my, premises which makes it clear to me -that there may be something about the place on which it may be as well -not to be in too great a hurry to turn the searchlight of a -policeman’s eye. As to getting out of this--we’ll see.” - -She struck another match, and saw. Either we had been the victims of -an ocular delusion, or something curious had taken place since she had -struck the first, for where, just now, there was a blank wall, in -which was no sign of any opening, a door stood wide open. I could not -credit the evidence of my own eyes. - -“I declare,” I cried, “it wasn’t there just now.” - -“It was not visible, at any rate. I tell you what, my dear, we mayn’t -be the only occupants of this establishment, that’s about the truth of -it. It’s possible that there’s someone behind the scenes who’s pulling -the strings.” - -I did not like the ideas which her words conjured up at all. - -“But--who can it be?” - -“That’s for us to discover.” - -There was a grimness about her tone which suggested what was, to me, a -new side of Pollie’s character. My impulse was to get away from the -place as fast as ever I could and never return to it again. She spoke -as if she were not only resolved to remain, and defied anyone to turn -her out who could, but as if she had a positive appetite for any--to -put it mildly--disagreeable experiences which her remaining might -involve. The first horror she encountered then and there. If she did -not mind it--I only wish that I could say the same of myself! - -“You left the candle in the hall; let’s go and fetch it.” - -As soon as we set foot outside that entry there was a pandemonium of -sounds, as of a legion rushing, scrambling, squeaking. It was -rats--myriads. The whole house swarmed with them; they were -everywhere. They were about our feet; I felt them rushing over my -boots, whirling against my skirts. One rat is bad enough, in the -light, but in the dark--that multitude! I had to scream; to stumble -blindfold among those writhing creatures, and keep still, was -altogether too much for my capacity. - -“Pollie!--light a match!--quick!--they’re all over me!--Pollie!” - -She struck a match. I do not know that it was any better now that we -could see them. The light only seemed to make them more excited. In -fact, their squeaking increased so much that, thinking that it angered -them, I had half a mind to tell Pollie to put it out again. But she -never gave me a chance. Taking me by the arm she dragged me along the -passage so that we were at the front door before I knew it. When we -went out we had left a candle on the floor in the passage so that it -might be ready for us when we came back. Pollie stooped to pick it up. -But, instead of doing so at once, she remained in the same position -for a second or two, as if she were staring at something. Then she -broke into a laugh. - -“Well, that beats anything. That was a new candle when we went out; -look at it now.” - -I looked; the candle had vanished. In its place what seemed to be a -greasy piece of twine trailed over the side of the candlestick. The -candle itself had been consumed by the rats; they had presented us -with an object lesson, by way of showing us what they could do if they -had a chance. I shuddered. I had heard of their fondness for fat. I am -not thin. I thought of them picking the plumpness off my bones as I -lay sleeping. - -“Let’s get out of this awful house. Do, Pollie, do! The rats will eat -us if we stay in it.” - -“Let ’em try. They’ll find us tougher morsels than you think. If a rat -once has a taste of me he won’t want another, I promise you that, my -dear.” - -It was a frightful thing to say. It made my blood run cold to hear -her. I felt absolutely convinced that if rats once started nibbling at -me they would never rest content till they had had all of me that they -could eat. I was sure that there was not enough that was tough about -me. In that hour of trial I almost wished that there had been. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - THE SHUTTING OF A DOOR. - -We went upstairs to get another candle. A pound had been left on the -parlour mantelpiece wrapped up in a stout brown paper. The rats had -climbed up on to the shelf, they alone knew how, torn the paper to -shreds, and made a meal off the contents. Pieces of candle were left, -but not one whole one. Other things had been on that mantelpiece--tea, -butter, bread, sugar, bacon, eggs, all the food we had. Practically -the whole of it was gone. More of the tea was left than anything; -possibly they had not found it altogether to their palates. But the -butter had been entirely consumed; of the bacon, only the rind -remained, and of the eggs the shells. I had heard, and I had read, a -good deal about the voracity of rats, but never had I seen an example -of it before. Pollie seemed to look on it as quite a joke. She only -hoped, she said, that the quality of the provisions was good, so that -they would not give them indigestion. But I could not see the fun at -all. If that was a sample of their appetite, who could doubt that they -would at any rate try to make a meal of us. I had been told of their -devouring people’s toes as if they were toothsome dainties. I did not -want them to stay their stomachs with mine if I could help it. With -such calmness as I could command I did my best to explain my views -upon the matter. But Pollie only laughed. She would not be sensible. -So I then and there made up my mind that, sleep or no sleep, I would -not take off my clothes that night. If I was to be devoured they -should eat their way through my garments before they could get at me. - -Pollie lit one of the stumps of the candles. The rest she slipped into -her pocket. If we left them there again, she remarked, they would -probably vanish completely directly our backs were turned, and candles -were precious, which was true enough; but there were other things -which were precious as well as candles. I asked her what she was going -to do. - -“Investigate, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to find out -what’s behind those two closed doors. If it’s something alive I’d like -to know. Also, in that case, I’d like to know just what it is. I’m not -partial to rats, but I’m still less partial to strangers, who may be -up to all kinds of tricks for all that I can tell, roaming about my -house while I’m wrapped in the arms of Morpheus, so if anyone’s going -to roam I should like to make their acquaintance before they’re -starting.” - -There was something callous in her demeanour, a sort of bravado, which -made me momentarily more uncomfortable. This was quite a new Pollie to -me. She spoke as if we were enjoying ourselves, with an apparently -entire unconsciousness of the frightful situation we actually were in. -I was positively beginning to be afraid of her. - -“Do let us go upstairs to the bedroom, Pollie, and lock ourselves in -till the morning comes.” - -She glanced at her watch. - -“It’s morning now; the midnight chimes have sounded long ago. Would -you like to have your throat cut in the silence of the night?” - -“Pollie!” - -“It wouldn’t be nice to wake up and find it slit from ear to ear, -would it? So don’t be a goose. There’s a door locked downstairs and -another up. Before I rest I’m going to do my best to find out why -those two rooms are not open to me, their rightful owner. If it’s -because they harbour cut-throats, it’s just as well that we should -know as soon as we conveniently can. So I’m off on a voyage of -discovery. You can go to bed if you like.” - -Of course I went with her. It was a choice of two evils--frightful -evils--but, under the circumstances, nothing would have induced me to -go to bed by myself. I would far rather have had my throat cut with -her than be eaten by rats alone. She began to hunt about the room. - -“I’m looking for some useful little trifle which might come in handy -in breaking down a solidly-constructed door or two. Here’s a poker, -heavy make--there’s some smashing capacity in that; a pair of tongs; a -fender--there’s a business end to a fender; furniture--I have heard of -chairs being used as battering-rams before to-day. My mother used to -tell of how once, when his landlady locked him out because he wouldn’t -pay the rent of his rooms, my Uncle Benjamin burst his way into the -house with the aid of a chair, snatched off a passing cart which was -laden with somebody else’s goods, so I can’t see how he could object -to my trying the same kind of thing in the house which was once his -own. But I won’t--not yet. To begin with I’ll give the poker a trial, -and you might take the tongs.” - -I took the tongs, though the only thing against which I should be -likely to use them would be rats, even if I ventured to touch them. -Indeed, the mere idea of squelching a wriggling, writhing, squeaking -rat between a pair of tongs made an icy shiver go all down my spine. -Pollie whirled the poker round her head with a regular whoop. What had -come to her I could not imagine. Her eyes flamed; her cheeks were -flushed; she was transformed. I verily believe that if half-a-dozen -men had rushed in at the door that very second, she would have flown -at them with a shriek of triumph. I had always known that one of her -worst faults was a fondness for what she called “a bit of a -scrimmage,” and that in an argument very few people got the better of -her; but I had never dreamed that she would go so far as she was going -then. She seemed as if she were perfectly burning for someone to -attack her. - -Down the staircase she went, brandishing the poker over her head. I -could not keep so close to her as I should have liked for fear of it. -She stamped so as she descended that near the bottom she put her foot -clean through one of the steps. No doubt the wood was rotten, but -still she need not have insisted on treading as heavily as she -possibly could. And as soon as she reached the passage, without giving -me an opportunity to say a word, she dashed at the door of the room, -which was locked, and hit it with all her might with the end of the -poker. I expected to see her go right through it, but, instead of -that, she gave a sort of groan, and down fell the poker with a clatter -to the floor. - -“Pollie, what is the matter? What have you done?” - -The expression of her countenance had changed all in an instant. A -startled look, a look almost of pain, had come upon her features. She -was rubbing her arms and feeling her shoulder-blades. - -“More than I intended. If you had exerted all your strength to drive a -poker through what seemed a panel of ordinary wood, and discovered -that it was sheet iron instead, you’d find that you’d done more than -you intended--it sort of jars.” - -She picked up the poker again, and tapped it, much more gingerly, -against the door. It gave forth a metallic ring. - -“Iron, real iron! Not a shadow of a doubt of it. Pity I was not aware -of the fact before I dislocated both my arms. Inside there! Do you -hear me calling? If anyone is inside there, perhaps you’ll be so good -as to let me know. I’m Pollie! Pollie Blyth!” - -Not a sound came from within, for which, personally, I was grateful. -She hammered and hammered, but not the slightest notice was taken of -the noise she made, except by the rats, who sounded to me as if they -had gone stark mad. What we should have done if anyone had replied to -her summons from within is more than I can tell. We certainly should -have been no better off than before. We never could have got at them. -Pollie tried all she could to get that door to open, without, so far -as we could judge, producing the least impression of any sort or kind. -She thought of forcing the lock, but when she endeavoured to insert -the end of the poker into the keyhole, it turned out that it was such -a tiny one that nothing very much thicker than a hatpin could be -induced to enter. - -“There’s a mystery behind that door. Mark my words, Emily Purvis! It -may take the form of decaying corpses, with their brains dashed out, -and their throats all cut, and their bones all broken, in which case -they’ll haunt us while we slumber, pointing at us spectral fingers as -we lie on our unquiet beds----” - -“Pollie!” - -“What’s the matter, my dear? They’ll be quite as cheerful anyhow as -rats, and they won’t take bites at us. At least, it’s to be hoped they -won’t. Ugh! Fancy murdered spectres making their teeth meet in your -flesh!” - -“Pollie, if you talk like that I shall be ill; I know I shall. It -isn’t fair of you. I wish you wouldn’t. Don’t!” - -“Very well, my love, I won’t. I’ve only this remark to make--if the -mystery doesn’t take that form, it takes another, and probably a worse -one. And let me tell you this. My Uncle Benjamin was a curiosity while -he lived--my mother used to say that there never was such a devil’s -limb as he was, and she was his only sister, and disposed to look upon -his eccentricities--and they were eccentricities--with a lenient eye; -and it’s my belief that he was quite as big a curiosity when he died. -There were spots in his eventful life--uncommonly queer ones--which he -would not wish revealed to the public eye. Unless I’m wrong, some of -them are inside there; we’re almost standing in their presence now, -and I wish that we were quite.” - -She rattled the poker against the panels as a kind of parting salute. -I had rather she had not. Every time she made a noise--and she kept on -making one--it set my nerves all tingling. What with the things she -said, and the way that she went on, and everything altogether, I was -getting into such a state that I was beginning to hardly know whether -I was standing on my head or heels. As for Pollie, she seemed in the -highest possible spirits. It was incomprehensible to me how she dared. -And the way she kept on talking! - -“Before I’m very much older I will get the other side of you, or I’ll -know the reason why; the idea of not being allowed the free run of my -own premises is a trifle more than I can stand. If I have to blow you -down, I’ll get you open.” - -Bang, bang, she went at it again. - -“It sounds hollow, doesn’t it? Perhaps that’s meant by way of a -suggestion, and is intended to let us understand that it’s only a -hollow mystery after all. Well, we shall see--and you shall see too, -if you have curiosity enough.” - -I doubted if I had. I certainly had not just then. I wished, with all -my heart, that she would come away from the horrid door, which -presently she did, though not at all in the spirit I should have -preferred, nor with the intentions I desired. - -“There’s a second Bluebeard’s chamber upstairs. I may have better luck -with that; perhaps it’s not guarded with sheet iron. Uncle Benjamin -must have spent a fortune at the ironmonger’s if it is, which fortune -should have been mine. We’ll go and see.” - -I endeavoured to expostulate. - -“Pollie, let’s leave it till to-morrow. What’s the use of making any -more fuss to-night. I’m dying for want of sleep.” - -“Are you?” She looked at me with what struck me as being suspicious -eyes; though what there was to be suspicious about is more than I can -pretend to say. “But don’t you see, my dear, that if you were to have -that sleep for which you’re dying, before you wake from it you may be -dead. That second Bluebeard’s chamber is next our bedroom. Suppose -someone were to come out of it, while we were sunk in innocent repose, -and----” She drew her thumb across her throat with a gesture which -made me shudder. “That wouldn’t be nice, you know.” - -“Pollie, if you keep on talking like that I’ll walk straight out of -the house, I don’t care what time of the night it is, and whether -you’ll come with me or whether you won’t.” - -“I shouldn’t if I were you. It would seem so irregular for a young -lady to be taking her solitary walks abroad during the small hours, -don’t you know. Now up you go--up those stairs. We’ll continue this -conversation at the top. You vowed to be my companion to the death, -and my companion to the death you’re going to be.” - -I had never done anything of the kind, as she was perfectly well -aware. But she did not give me a chance to contradict her. She bundled -me up the staircase as if I were a child, with such impetuosity that I -was breathless when we reached the landing. She was laughing. We might -have been enjoying a romp. As if that were the place or season for -anything of the sort! - -“I trod upon a rat. Did you hear it squeal? I think it was its tail. I -believe the little beast turned and flew at me, it felt as if it did. -I hope I scrunched its silly little tail. What is one rat’s tail among -so many? Now for Bluebeard’s Chamber No. 2. This time we’ll beware of -iron.” - -She made a preliminary sounding, luckily for her. Even a slight tap -with the poker produced the ring of metal. - -“Iron again, so that’s all right. Now what shall we do? Shall we -confess ourselves baffled after all, and leave a formal attack until -the morning, or shall we try the effect of a little more poker -smashing? What ho, within! Is anyone inside there, living or dead? If -so, would you be so very obliging as to just step forth, and let us -see what kind of gentleman you are.” - -There was no response, thank goodness. I took her by the arm. - -“Pollie, do let’s leave it to the morning, and do let’s go to bed!” - -“We’ll go to bed!” - -We went; at least we went into the bedroom. I did not feel much -happier when we were there. To begin with, after the way in which she -had been talking, my first thought was to do as much as possible to -keep anyone out who might try to enter. But there was no key in the -lock, the handle was loose, the hasp a bad one, so that the door would -not even keep closed without our propping something up against it. I -wanted Pollie to help me pile up a sort of barricade, consisting of -chairs, the washhand stand, chest of drawers, and everything, as I had -read of people doing in books. She only laughed at me. - -“What good will it do? Who do you suppose it will keep out? Spectres? -My dear, spectres will walk through stone walls. They pay no heed to -trivial obstacles. Creatures of flesh and blood? You may take my word -for it that if there are any of that sort alive and kicking in this -house to-night, and they mean to come in here, they’ll come in just -when and how they choose, and they’ll treat your ingenious barricade -as if it wasn’t there.” - -“Do you really think that there’s anyone in the house beside -ourselves?” - -She shrugged her shoulders. - -“I tell you what I do think, that if I’d known as much before as I do -now, I’d have treated myself to a revolver, and you should have had -one too.” - -“A revolver! Whatever should I have done with a revolver?” - -“I can’t say what you’d have done. I know what I’d have tried to do. I -only wish that I had something loaded handy at this moment, there’s -more persuasive power in bullets than in your barricade, my dear. If -the worst does come to the worst, and we have to protect ourselves -against goodness alone knows what, if I could only have had my grip -upon a pistol I don’t fancy that all the scoring would have been upon -the other side.” - -Whether she talked like that simply to make my hair stand up on end, -or whether she was really in earnest, was more than I was able to -determine. But as I looked at her I felt a curious something creep all -over me. There was an expression on her face, a smile on her lips, a -light in her eyes, which made me think of her Uncle Benjamin, to whose -peculiarities we owed our presence there, and wonder if not only his -blood, but something of his spirit too, was in her veins. I was -persuaded that she perceived something actually agreeable in a -situation in which I saw nothing but horror. And it was I who had -supposed myself to be romantic! - -She began to bustle about the room. - -“I thought you were dying for want of sleep. Aren’t you going to get -between the sheets? There is a bed, and there are sheets, though I -should hardly like to swear that they have been washed since someone -slept between them last. When are you going to begin to undress?” - -“Undress? Do you imagine that I intend to remove so much as a stitch -of clothing while I remain beneath this roof?” - -“Do you propose to sleep in your boots then?” - -“If I am to sleep at all, and I am more than half disposed to hope -that sleep may not visit my eyelids till I am out of this dreadful -place, I propose to do so in what I stand up in. Pollie, have you ever -heard of people’s hair turning white in the course of a single night? -I shouldn’t be at all surprised if mine did. It feels as if it were -changing colour now.” - -She stared as if she could not make me out. I wondered if she was -noting the transformation which was taking place in my hair; if it had -already become so obvious. Then she broke into peal after peal of -laughter. The tears started to my eyes. Just as I was about to really -cry there came a crash which shook the house. - -It sounded as if someone had opened a door in the passage and shut it -with a bang. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - A VISION OF THE NIGHT. - -In a second Pollie was across the room, through the door, and on the -landing. Before I could stop her she was tearing down the stairs, -crying, - -“Now we’ll see who that is?” - -I was in a dreadful position, not wanting to descend and be murdered -as a result of seeing “who that is,” nor daring to remain behind -alone. I did not even venture to call out and try to stay her, not -knowing who might hear my voice below. She had gone off with our only -piece of candle and left me in the dark. All I could do was to steal -after her as quickly as possible, keeping as close to her as I was -able. Pollie was at the bottom almost before I started; she had gone -down with a hop, skip, and a jump; I had to struggle with the darkness -and the rats. Leaning over what was left of the banisters I could see -the gleam of her candle in the passage. I expected to hear her shriek, -and sounds of a struggle. The candle flickered, as if she were moving -here and there in an endeavour to discover the cause of the commotion. -Presently her voice came up to me. - -“Emily!” - -“Yes?” - -I spoke in a much lower tone than she had done. - -“No one’s murdered, unless it’s you up there. In case you’re not, you -might come down.” - -I went. She appeared disgusted, rather than otherwise, that she had -not been murdered. She was stamping up and down the passage, banging -at the closed door with her clenched fist, peering into the kitchen, -making as much disturbance as was in her power. - -“The only thing alive, barring rats, seems to be blackbeetles. We must -have slaughtered thousands when we came in. The kitchen’s black with -them. Come and look.” I declined. “But they can hardly have opened -that door and shut it with a bang. There’s no evidence to show which -door it was, but I believe it was one which leads into Bluebeard’s -chamber.” - -“Pollie! How can you tell?” - -“I can’t tell, but I can believe. Can’t I believe, my dear? I shall, -anyhow. It is my belief”--she spoke with an emphasis which was meant -for me--“that the mystery it conceals peeped out, then, fearing -discovery, popped back again. It was its hurry to pop back which -caused the bang. I wonder, by the way, if it was anyone who made a -bolt into the street.” - -She tried to open the front door, against my wish, and failed. We had -opened it from within easily enough before, when we had gone out to -interview her Tom; but now it appeared to be as hermetically sealed as -the door leading into what she called “Bluebeard’s Chamber.” It was no -use reasoning with her. So soon as she found that it would not open -she made up her mind that it should. For a quarter of an hour or -twenty minutes she tried everything she could to force it. In vain. By -the time we returned to the bedroom she was not in the best of -tempers. And I had resolved that nothing should induce me to stay any -longer alone with her beneath that roof than I could possibly help. - -We had something like a quarrel. She said some very cruel things to -me, and, when I told her she was unkind, and that there were aspects -in which she reminded me of her Uncle Benjamin, she said crueller -things still. I announced my intention to spend the night--what was -left of it--upon a chair. She flung herself upon the bed and laughed. - -Never shall I forget the remainder of that night, not if I live to be -as old as Methuselah. To begin with, that chair was horribly -uncomfortable, to speak of physical discomfort only. It was a small, -very slippery, wooden Windsor chair; every time I tried to get into an -easy position I began to slip off. I wondered more and more how I -could ever have been so Quixotic as to have volunteered to become -Pollie Blyth’s companion. For one thing I had never suspected that she -could have been so callous, so careless of the feelings of others, so -indifferent to what they suffered on her behalf. Although I was tired -out and out I could see that there would be no sleep for me, and no -rest either, while I continued where I was. So far as I could judge, -so soon as she threw herself upon the bed Pollie was asleep. - -It was with quite a sense of shock I realised that this was the case. -It seemed so selfish. The feeling of solitude it conveyed was -frightful. I could hear her gentle breathing coming from the bed; I -myself hardly dared to breathe at all. Half an inch of candle was -guttering on the mantelpiece. By its light I could see that she lay on -her left side, looking towards the wall, and that she did not appear -to have moved since she had first lain down. I called to her: - -“Pollie! Pollie! Pollie!” uttering each repetition of her name a -little louder. - -My voice seemed to ring out with such uncanny clearness I did not -venture to really raise it. In consequence my modest tones did not -serve to rouse her from her childlike slumber. So sound was her sleep -that, all at once, the noise of her breathing ceased. It faded away. -She was still, strangely still. So still that in the overwrought -condition of my nerves I began to wonder if she was dead. I wished -that she would move, do anything, to show she was alive. I tried, once -more, to call upon her name. But, this time, my throat was parched; it -came as an inarticulate murmur from between my tremulous lips. - -I would have given much to have got up and shaken her back to life, -and me. But it was as though I was glued to the seat, and that -although I was continually slipping off. My body was stiff, my limbs -cramped; it was only with an effort I could move them; of that effort -I was not capable. I was conscious that I was passing into a waking -nightmare. I closed my eyes because I was afraid to keep them open; -then opened them again because I was still more afraid to keep them -shut. - -The house was full of noises. Pollie had not shut the door. It was -ajar perhaps an inch or two. I wanted to put a chair in front, to shut -it close. Apart, however, from my incapacity to move, I was oppressed -by an uncomfortable fancy that someone, something, was peering through -the interstice. This fancy became, by rapid degrees, a certainty. That -I was overlooked I was sure. By whom, by what, I did not dare to -think. How I knew I could not have told. I did know. - -My eyes were fixed upon the door. For a moment, now and then, I moved -them, with a flicker, to the right or to the left. Only for a moment. -Back they went to the door. Once I saw it tremble. I started. It was -motionless again. Then I heard a pattering. The rats were audible -everywhere--under the floor at my feet, in the walls about me, above -the ceiling over my head. The house was full of their clamour. But the -pattering I heard was distinct from all the other sounds. It -approached the room from without, pausing over the threshold as if in -doubt. The door gave a little jerk, ever such a little one, but I saw -it. A rat came in. - -So it was a rat after all. - -It stopped, just inside the door, peering round, as if surprised at -the illumination which the candle gave. As if satisfied by what it saw -it came in a little further. Close behind it was a second. This was of -a more impatient breed; as soon as it appeared, with a little spring -it ranged itself beside the other. Immediately there came two more. -The four indulged themselves with a feast of observation, as though -they were smelling out the land. After a while their eyes seemed to -concentrate themselves on me, as if they could not make me out. -Perhaps they thought that I was dead, or sleeping. I did not move, -because I could not. - -On a sudden the four gave a little forward scamper, as if they had -been hustled from behind. The door was opened another half-dozen -inches. More than a score came in. All at once I became conscious that -rats were peeping at me from all about the room; out of holes and -crannies of whose existence I had not been aware; above, below, on -every side. And I knew that an army waited on the landing, as if -waiting for a signal to make a rush. On whom? On me? Or on Pollie, -asleep upon the bed? I was paralysed. I wanted to shriek and warn -Pollie of what was coming; to let her know that in a second’s time the -room would be a pandemonium of rats, all of them in search of food. My -tongue was tied. I could not speak. I could only wait and watch. - -The house was not yet still. Not all had gathered without the door, -many were observing me, with teeth sharp set, from hidden cavities. -There was continually the clamour of their scurrying to and fro. But -some instinct told me that their numbers increased upon the landing. I -could hear their squeals, as if they snapped at each other in the -press. Another score had harried the first score farther forward. They -were so close that where they stood they hid the floor. It seemed so -strange to see so many, all with their eyes on me. Yet what were they -to those who were without? Something told me that those who watched me -in the room had come further out of their holes! that in another -instant they would spring down; and that then the rush would come. I -think that my heart had nearly ceased to beat; that the blood had -turned to water in my veins. I was cold; a chill sweat was on my face. -The hand of death had come quite close. - -I but waited for its actual touch; for whose approach the rushing of -the rats should be the signal; when--what was it fell upon my ear? -What sound, coming from below? Not rats? No, not rats. Mechanically I -drew breath; I verily believe it was the first time I had breathed for -I know not how long. The inflation of my lungs roused me. I listened -with keener ears. I knew that what I had heard the rats had also -heard; that it was because of it that the rush had not begun; that -they attended what was next to come with a sense of expectancy; of -doubt; of hesitation. - -Moments passed; the sound was not repeated. Had it been a trick of our -imagination; mine and the rats’? All was still, even the scurrying of -their friends below. If I heard nothing, they did; they retreated. -There were fewer within the room; I had not noticed their going, but -they had gone. I felt that their unseen comrades, who were about me, -had drawn back again into their holes. What was it caused that noise? -There was a board that creaked. No rat’s foot had caused that. Again. -Was that a step upon the stairs? - -Someone, something, was ascending from below? Who--what--could it be? -An inmate of the Bluebeard’s Chamber? What shape of horror would it -take? Why did Pollie sleep so soundly? In my awful helplessness -inwardly I raged. The rats heard; already they were flying for their -lives. Why did she not hear? Would nothing rouse her from her -slumbers? Danger, the danger she had herself foretold, was stealing on -us. She had boasted of her courage. Why did she not come out of sleep -to prove she was no braggart? What was it bound my limbs with chains, -and kept me from stretching out my arm to touch her where she lay? -What was the choking in my throat, so that when I tried to speak I -seemed to strangle? - -Silence again. This seemed to be a jest that someone played: the -sound, then silence; still silence, long drawn out, then again the -sound. If something came, why did it not come quickly? I should not be -so fearful of a thing I saw as of a thing that I did not; I could not -be. - -The steps had reached the staircase which led directly to our room. -There were fewer intervals of silence; though, yet, between each, -there was a pause, as if to listen. They were very soft; as if someone -walked velvet footed, being most unwilling to be heard. If I had -sprung to my feet, roused Pollie, rushed to the door, defying all -comers to come on, I wondered what would happen; and should have -dearly liked to see. - -But I was a craven through and through. - -The footsteps gained the landing: moved towards the door; stayed -without, while their owner listened. It might have been my fancy, but, -so acutely was I listening, that I could have declared that I heard a -hand placed gently against the panel. An interval. Pollie remained -quiet on the bed. She had not moved since first she had lain down. -What kind of sleep was this of hers? Did no warning come to her in -dreams to tell her that there was something strange without? It was -not fair that she should be so utterly at peace, while I had to bear -the burden all alone. She was stronger than I. Why did she not wake -up? - -The door came a little forward; perhaps another half-dozen inches. -Again a pause; as if to ascertain if the movement had been observed. -Whoever was without was cautious. Then---- - -Then something appeared at the opening. - -What I had expected to see I could not for the life of me have told. -Some shape of horror, some monster born of the terror I was in; a -diseased imagining of my mental, moral, physical paralysis; a -creature, neither human nor inhuman, but wholly horrible, which should -come stealing, resistless, in, to force me, in my agony, to welcome -death. - -What it was I actually saw, at first, I could not tell. It was not -what I expected; that I knew. Something more commonplace; yet, -considering the hour and the place, almost as strange. - -When the mist had cleared from before my vision, I perceived it was a -face. What kind of face even yet I could not see; the shock of the -unexpected added to my confusion. It was only after it had remained -quiescent for perhaps the better part of a minute that I realised it -was a woman’s. - -A woman’s face! - -But not like any woman’s face that I had seen before. As I gazed my -fear began to fade; a sense of wonder came instead. Was I asleep or -waking? I asked myself the question. Were these things happening to me -in a dream? Glancing at me through the partly open door was the kind -of face one reads and dreams about; not the kind one meets in daily -life. At least, in the daily life which I have led. I was vaguely -conscious that it was beautiful; beautiful in so strange a sort; but -most clearly present to my mind was the bewildering fact that it had a -more wonderful pair of eyes than any I had supposed a woman could have -had. It was not only that they were large, nor that they were lovely. -They had in them so odd a lustre. It was as though some living thing -were in them, which kept coming and going, breaking into light, fading -into darkness. They were wild eyes; such as no Englishwoman ever could -have had. This face was brown. - -For at any rate some minutes it stayed motionless, watching me. Only -by degrees did it dawn upon me that possibly its owner was nearly as -much startled as I was; that whatever she had anticipated seeing she -had not expected to find me sitting on that chair. She kept her glance -fixed upon my features; only for a second did it wander towards Pollie -sleeping on the bed. I fancy she was endeavouring to determine what it -was that I was doing there; why I was on the chair instead of on the -bed; whether I was asleep or waking, or even dead. I was so huddled up -upon the chair, and remained so very still, that it was quite possible -for her, taken unawares, to suppose that I was dead. - -“You sleep?” - -She spoke to me; in English, which had a quaintly foreign sound; in a -bell-like whisper, it was so soft and yet so clear. - -I did not answer; the knot in my tongue had not yet come untied. I -felt that she did not understand my silence, or the cause of it; and -wondered, hesitated too. Presently she ventured on an assertion, -uttered with a little cadence of doubt, as if it were a question. - -“You do not sleep.” Apparently as if still in doubt as to the -correctness of the statement, she endeavoured to fortify herself with -reasons. “Your eyes are open; you do not sleep. We do not sleep when -our eyes are open. Speak to me. Are you afraid?” - -Perhaps the suspicion increased in strength that, if I was not -stupefied with fear, there was at least something curious in my -condition. She opened the door nearly to the full, and she came into -the room. I saw that she seemed but a girl, tall above the common, -clad in a gown which, while it was loose and seemingly shapeless, and -made in a fashion which was altogether strange to me, yet draped -itself in graceful folds about her figure. It was made of some stuff -which looked to me like silk alpaca; in colour a most assertive, and -indeed trying, shade of electric blue. It positively warmed one’s eyes -to look at it. And it was covered with what looked more like sequins -than anything else I could think of; though, with every movement of -her body, they gleamed and glittered like no sequins I had ever seen -before. Her hair, of which there was an extraordinary quantity, as -black as jet, was most beautifully done. Even in my condition of -semi-stupor I wondered how she did it. It formed a perfect halo about -her face. And on the top was stuck what seemed to be the very double -of that queer little thing which Pollie said she found in the scrap of -paper which the man had given her. Only, to me, the creature in her -hair seemed alive. Its eyes gleamed; its body inclined this way then -that, as she stood in the open doorway. - -She was covered with jewels; at least, I suppose they were jewels. -Though, regarded as ornaments, they were as queer as everything else -about her. Her fingers were loaded with rings; funny looking ones they -seemed. She stood, bending slightly forward, with her hands in front, -so that I could not help but notice them. Bracelets were twined about -her arms; of the oddest design. A jewelled snake was about her throat. -Another, not only a monster, but a monstrosity, was twisted, girdle -fashion, three or four times around her waist. It looked as if it were -alive. - -When, having, apparently, sufficiently considered the situation, she -began to advance towards me, to my amazement and abject horror this -creature was set in motion too. It stretched out its evil-looking head -in my direction, with an ugly glitter in its eyes; it opened its jaws; -its fangs shot out. As they seemed to be extending themselves as far -as possible, in order to reach my face, thank God, the guttering -half-inch of candle went out upon the mantelpiece. With it my senses -seemed to go out too. As they were leaving me I was conscious of the -unpleasant odour of a smouldering wick. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - SUSIE. - -I was lying on the floor. There was a light in the room. A woman was -bending over me; the woman with the snake about the waist. The memory -of it recurring with a sudden sense of shock, I started up. - -“Where is it?” - -She looked as if she did not understand. - -“Where is what?” - -“The snake.” - -She smiled; why, I do not know. - -“The snake? Oh, it is gone.” - -Apparently it had. In its place was a plain broad band of what seemed -gold. I wondered if it was gold. If so, it was worth a great deal. -Still wondering, I sank back upon the floor. I saw that beside me was -a queer-shaped lamp, which also seemed to be of gold. It was fashioned -something like a covered butter-boat, with a handle, the flame coming -from the lip. I felt drowsy; the hair seemed to be heavy with perfume; -one which was new to me, having a pleasantly soothing effect upon -one’s nerves. Had it not been for the strangeness of my position I -believe that I should then and there have fallen asleep. Turning, I -stared at the stranger, who, kneeling on my left, regarded me in turn. -Silence; which she broke. - -“Are many Englishwomen as beautiful as you?” - -I was thinking, lazily, how beautiful she was. The appositeness of the -question took me aback; it startled some of the heaviness from my -eyelids. I did not know what to reply. My hesitation did not please -her. A sudden gleam came into her eyes; as if the wild creature which -inhabited them had all at once come to the front. - -“Why do you not answer? I am used to being answered. Are many -Englishwomen as beautiful as you?” - -“They are much more beautiful. I am not beautiful at all.” - -“You are beautiful. You are a liar.” - -The plain directness of her speech brought the blood into my cheeks. -She marked my change of colour, as if surprised. - -“How do you do that?” - -“Do what?” - -My tone was meek as meek could be. - -“You have gone red.” I went still redder. “How do you do it? Is it a -trick? It becomes you very well; it makes you still more beautiful. Is -it the blood shining through your skin? You are so white, the least -thing shows. To be white I would give all that I am, all that I have.” - -She uttered the last words with a simple earnestness which, if she had -only known it, became her much more than my blush did me. I ventured -on an inquiry. - -“Who are you?” - -She knelt straight up. There came to her an air of dignity which lent -to her a weird and thrilling fascination. - -“I am she who inhabits the inner sanctuary of the temple; to whom all -men and women bring their supplications, that I may lay them at the -feet of the Most High Joss.” - -I had not the faintest notion what she meant; but her words and manner -impressed me none the less on that account. Which fact she observing -was good enough not to allow it to displease her. She went on, with -the same quaint, yet awe-inspiring simplicity. - -“I am she who holds joy and sorrow in the hollow of my hand; ay, life -and death. When I lift it the prayers of the faithful may hope for -answer; when I do not lift it, their petitions are offered up in vain, -for the Great Joss is sleeping; and, when he sleeps, he attends to no -one’s prayers.” - -She stopped. I should have liked her to have gone on; or, at least, to -have been a trifle more explicit. But, possibly, she was under the -impression that she had vouchsafed sufficient information, and, in -exchange, would like a little out of me. She put a point blank -question. - -“Are you Miss Mary Blyth?” - -I motioned with my hand towards the bed. - -“That’s Pollie. She’s asleep.” - -“Pollie? Who is Pollie? I ask, are you Miss Mary Blyth?” - -“That is Mary Blyth upon the bed. I’m a friend of hers, so I call her -Pollie. She’s known to all her friends as Pollie.” - -She considered, knitting her brows. I half expected her to again -roundly call me liar; but, instead, she asked a question, the meaning -of which I scarcely grasped. - -“Is Susie a name by which one is known unto one’s friends?” - -“Susie? Isn’t that the pet name for Susan?” - -For some reason my answer seemed to afford her a singular amount of -pleasure. She broke into a soft ripple of laughter; for sheer music I -had never heard anything like it before. The sound was so infectious -that it actually nearly made me smile--even then! She put her hands -before her face, in the enjoyment of some joke which was altogether -beyond my comprehension; then, holding out her arms, extended them on -either side of her as wide as she possibly could. - -“It is a pet name; Susie, a pet name! It is the pet name by which one -is known to one’s--friends!” - -There was a slight pause before “friends”; as if she hesitated whether -or not to substitute another word. I should have liked to have -inquired what the jest was, but there was something in her bearing -which suggested that it was so personal to herself that I did not -dare. When she had got out of it what perhaps occurred to her as being -sufficient enjoyment, quitting the kneeling posture which she had -occupied till then, she rose to her feet and went to the bed. - -By now I was wide awake, my perceptions were well on the alert. The -sense of terror which had so nearly brought me to a condition of -paralysis had grown considerably less. I do not pretend that fear had -altogether vanished, nor that with but a little provocation it would -not have returned with all its former force. But, for the moment, -certainly, curiosity was to the front. My chief anxiety was not to -allow one of my mysterious visitor’s movements, no matter how -insignificant, to escape my notice. I observed with what suppleness -she rose to her feet; how, in the noiseless way in which she passed to -the bed, there was something which reminded me of wild animals I had -seen at the Zoological Gardens. When she bent over the sleeping Pollie -there was something in her pose which recalled them again. For some -seconds she was still; I had a peculiar feeling, as I watched her from -behind, that with those extraordinary eyes of hers she was scorching -the sleeper’s countenance. - -“She is not beautiful. No, she is not beautiful, like you. But there -is that in her face which reminds me of another I have seen. She is -clever, strong bodied, strong willed, she knows no fear. When she is -brought face to face with fear she laughs at it. She sleeps sound. It -is like her to sleep sound when no one else could sleep at all.” -Although I could not see the speaker’s face I knew she smiled. “It is -funny it should have been given to her. She will never do as she is -told; it is because she is told that she will never do it. Obedience -is not for her, it is for those with whom she lives to obey.” She -glanced round. “It is for you.” - -There was a sting in the little air of malice with which it was said, -although the thing was true. It nettled me to think how soon she had -found me out. She returned to Pollie without deigning to notice how -her words had been received. - -“Let her sleep on. So sound a sleep should know no sudden waking.” -Again there was malice in her tone. She passed her hand two or three -times in front of Pollie’s face. “Now she’ll have no evil dreams. It -is funny it should have been given to her; very funny. It should have -been given to you; you are different. But it is like that: things -happen; the world is crooked.” - -She had returned towards me. - -“Have you a lover?” - -Her trick of asking the most delicate questions in the abruptest and -baldest fashion I found more than a little disconcerting. Although I -tried to keep it back, again the blood flamed to my cheeks, all the -more because I half expected to have her repeat her enquiry as to how -I got it there. For some ridiculous reason I thought of Mr. Frank -Paine. It was too absurd. Of course I had only seen him once, and then -I had scarcely looked at him, although I could not help noticing that, -though he had not bad eyes, in other respects he was positively ugly, -and most stilted in his manners. I might never see the man again, -probably never should. I was sure I did not want to. And, anyhow, he -was absolutely nothing to me, nor, under any possible circumstances, -ever could be. It made me wild to think that I should think of him, -especially when I was asked such a question as that. - -“No,” I stammered. - -“No? That is strange. Since you are so beautiful.” - -“I am not beautiful. Why do you say that I am beautiful?” - -“Is it possible that you do not know that you are beautiful? You must -be very silly. I knew all about myself long before I was as old as -you. You have the kind of face which, when a man sees, he desires; you -also have the shape. You are not like her.” She jerked her shoulder -towards the bed. “You are a woman; and a fool.” - -I did not like the way she spoke to me at all. She might be a walking -mystery--and she certainly was--but that was no reason why she should -be impertinent as well. - -“Why do you say such things to me? Is a woman of necessity a fool?” - -“If she is wise she is. It is a fool that a man desires; if she is a -fool she will rule him when he has her. The greater fool is governed -by the lesser.” - -She had a most astonishing way of talking. Considering her age, and, -in years, I felt convinced that she was the merest slip of a girl, she -professed to have a knowledge of the world which was amazing. I did -not know what to say; not being used to carry on a conversation on the -lines which she seemed to favour. So she asked another question, with -another jerk of her shoulder towards the bed. - -“Has she a lover?” - -“She has.” - -“No! That is stranger still! A real lover? What sort of a man is he?” - -“He’s not a bad sort.” - -“Not a bad sort? What is that? Is he rich?” - -“Rich!” I smiled at the idea of Tom Cooper being rich. “He is very far -from being rich, unfortunately for him, and for Pollie too. He is an -assistant in a shop.” - -“A shop? What kind of shop?” - -“A draper’s.” - -“A draper’s? Isn’t that where they sell things for women to wear? What -kind of a man is he who is in a shop in which they sell things for -women to cover their bodies? Is it his life which he lives there? But, -after all, that is the kind of lover one would have supposed she would -have had. It is he who must obey.” I felt that she was hard on Pollie, -and on Mr. Cooper. It seemed to be her way to be hard on everyone. -“But you--why have you no lover?” - -I really did not know what to answer. It was such a difficult -question, to say nothing of its delicacy. Of course I had had lovers, -of a sort. One need not give a list, but there had been incidents. At -the same time it was not easy to enter into particulars, at a moment’s -notice, to a perfect stranger, under such conditions as obtained just -then. - -“I hardly know what to say to you. I suppose I am not too old to have -one yet.” - -It was a silly remark to make. But it was either that or silence. And -she did not seem to like me not to answer her. - -“One should have a lover when one is still a little young.” - -“What’s your idea of a little young? Are you inferring that I’m a -trifle old?” - -“The day passes; a lover should come in the morning; when the sun is -just lighting the sky.” - -There was an air of superiority about her which I did not altogether -relish. She might be somebody wonderful, and I was quite willing to -admit that she was; but one does not care to be snubbed. So far as I -could see she was snubbing me all the time. So I asked her a question -in my turn. - -“You speak as if you had had a great deal of experience. May I ask if -you have a lover?” - -“Can you not see it in my eyes?” - -I could not. Hers were wonderful eyes, especially when the blaze came -into them as it did as she spoke. But one required remarkable powers -of observation to know that she had a lover merely by looking at her -eyes. I hesitated, however, to say as much; and luckily she went on -without rendering it necessary for me to say anything at all. - -“Can you not see it in my face? my smile? the way I breathe? the joy -of life that’s in me? Is it that, although you’re white, you’re -stupid? I thought it was plain to all the world; to another woman most -of all. One morning I woke; I was what I was; he had not come. He came -before the sun set; I was what I am now; there were no shadows that -night for me; the sun has not set since.” - -Her language was really a little above my head. Though I confess that -I liked the way in which she spoke. It set my heart all beating. And -her words rang like silver trumpets in my ears. And she looked so -lovely as she stood with her beautiful head thrown a little back, and -her hands held out in front as if her heart was in them. Yet, at the -same time, if she had expressed herself in a somewhat different -manner, I should have gathered more exactly what it was she meant. She -had stopped, as if she thought that it was time for me to speak. So I -blundered. - -“Was the gentleman a--a countryman of yours?” - -“A countryman of mine? What do you mean by a countryman of mine? How -do you know what my country is?” - -I was sorry I had asked the question directly the words had passed my -lips, though I never dreamt that she would take it up in the way she -did. She flew at me in a way which gave me quite a start. The wild -animal which was in her eyes came to the front with a sudden rush, as -if it would spring right out at me. - -“I’m sure no offence was intended, and I beg your pardon if any has -been given. Because, as you say, I have not the faintest notion what -your country is.” - -“England is my country. I am English--all of me!--to there!” - -As she put her hands behind her I suppose she meant that she was -English to the backbone. All I could say was that she did not look it, -and she did not sound it either. But not for worlds would I have -mentioned the fact at that moment. She came closer, eyeing me as if -she would have pierced me through and through. - -“You think that he is black? You think it? You insult me, the daughter -of the gods, in whose hands are life and death! Shall I tear the heart -out of your body? Shall I kill you? Tell me!--yes or no!” - -“No.” - -It seemed an unnecessary answer to give, but I felt that I might as -well give expression to my sentiments since she was so insistent. -Though I thought it quite likely that she might at any moment -commence, as she called it, to tear the heart out of my body, while I -waited for the moment to arrive I could not but own that, even in her -rage, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But it seemed -that she decided that, after all, it would be scarcely worth her while -to soil her fingers just for the sake of tearing me to pieces; so she -emptied the vials of her scorn on me instead. - -“Bah! You are a fool--of the fools! That is all you are. You know -nothing, not even what you say. Why should I attend to the witless -when they babble? Listen to me--fool!” - -She held her finger up close to my nose. I listened with might and -main. She spoke as if she intended to lay emphasis upon her every -word. - -“He is English, my lover, of the English; of the flower of the nation. -He is not one who lives in shops which pretend to help ugly women to -hide their ugliness; he is not that kind. His home is the wide world. -He is tall, and brave, and strong; a ruler of men; handsome beyond any -of his fellows.” She made that last statement as if she dared me to -question it by so much as a movement of my eyelids. “Were you but to -see his picture you would faint for love of him.” I wondered. “With -all women it is so. But, beware! Hide yourself when he is coming; if -he but deigns to look on you I’ll tear you into pieces. I suffer no -woman to stand in his presence, save only I.” - -Words and manner suggested not only that she was not by any means too -sure of the gentleman’s affection, but, also, that there was a lively -time in store for him. If she wished to be taken literally, and really -did mean that no woman was to be allowed to stand in his presence -except herself, then the sooner she returned to the particular parts -from which, in spite of all that she might say to the contrary, I felt -sure she came, then the pleasanter it would be for everyone concerned. -I should like to see the man in whose presence I was not to be allowed -to stand. - -I said nothing when she stopped; I had nothing to say. Or, rather, if -I had been allowed a moment or two to think it over, and been given -time to get back a little of my breath again, I should have had such a -quantity to say that I should have been at a loss as to which end I -had better begin. Nor do I fancy that her temper would have been -improved wherever I had started. - -While she was still glaring as if she would like to eat me, her -finger-nails within an inch or two of my face, and I was thinking, in -spite of my natural indignation, not to speak of other things, that -being in a rage positively suited her, for the second time that night, -there came from below what sounded like the opening of a door. On the -instant she stood up straight. She looked more than ever like one of -the beautiful wild creatures at the Zoo; poised so lightly on her -feet, with every sense on the alert, listening as if she did not -intend to allow the dropping of a pin to escape her. Suddenly she -stooped; waved her hands before my face; caught up the lamp from the -floor; vanished from the room. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - AN ULTIMATUM. - -What had happened I could not think, nor where I was. It was pitch -dark. I had been roused from sound sleep, as it seemed, by someone -falling over me, who was making vigorous efforts at my expense to -regain a footing. I remonstrated. - -“Who is it? what are you doing?” - -“Emily!” returned a voice, in accents of unmistakable surprise. - -It was Pollie. She was lying right across me, and, with sundry -ejaculations, was using my body as a sort of lever to assist her in -regaining her perpendicular. She was plainly as much astonished to -find that it was me as I was to find it was her. - -“You’ve been lying on the floor. Why have you been doing that?” - -“Because I happen to have been lying on the floor that is no reason -why you should tumble over me.” - -“That’s good. How was I to see you in the middle of this brilliant -illumination? I called out to you; as you did not answer I was -beginning to be half afraid that the black bogies had swallowed you -up. Have you been there all night?” - -“I don’t know.” I wondered myself. “I suppose so.” - -Raising myself to a sitting posture I found that I was stiff all over. -I had not been accustomed to quite so hard a mattress. “Have you any -idea what time it is?” - -“I wish I had. So far as light is concerned all hours seem the same in -here, but I’ll have that altered before another night comes on. I feel -as if I had slept my sleep right out, so I expect that anyhow it’s -morning.” - -Her feelings were not mine. My eyelids were heavy. I felt generally -dull and stupid, unrefreshed. She gave a little exclamation. - -“I touched something with my foot. I believe it’s the matches. I -thought I put them in my pocket; if so, they’ve dropped out since; -they’re not there. Well found! It is!” She struck one. “Hallo, where’s -the candle?” - -I remembered that the one she had left alight had burned right out. -But there had been others, three or four pieces of varying length. -Every trace of them had vanished. - -“Rats,” I suggested. - -“That’s it; the little wretches have devoured them, wicks and tallow -and all. When I got off the bed I heard them scurrying in all -directions. Did we leave any ends downstairs?” - -“I don’t think so. We brought up all there was to bring.” - -“Then that’s real nice. For the present we shall have to live by -matchlight.” As she spoke the one she held went out. “They don’t burn -long; just long enough to scorch the tips of your fingers. Where’s the -door?” She moved towards it by the glimmer of a flickering match. She -tried the handle. “Why, it seems----” There was a pause. “It does -seem----” The match went out, “Emily, it’s locked.” - -“Locked!” I echoed the word. - -“Yes, locked; I said locked, or--something. And it wasn’t anything -last night.” - -“No; I don’t believe it was.” - -“You don’t believe! Don’t you remember that because there wasn’t a -key, and the hasp wouldn’t catch, you suggested piling up the -furniture to keep it close? What do you mean, then, by saying that you -don’t believe? you know it wasn’t.” - -“Yes; I do know.” - -“Well, it’s fastened now.” I could hear her, in the darkness, trying -the handle again. “Sure enough, it’s locked; and, from the feel, it’s -bolted too. Emily, we’re locked in.” - -She was silent. I was silent, too, turning things over in my mind. It -seemed, when she spoke again, as if she had been doing the same. - -“But--who can have done it? It appears that I was right, that there -was someone in those Bluebeard’s chambers--perhaps in both, for all we -know. If someone could come and lock this door without waking us up, -we ran a good risk of having our throats cut, or worse.” She lit -another match. Apparently my continued silence struck her as peculiar. -“Why don’t you say something--what’s the matter? Don’t you understand -that we’re locked in; prisoners, my dear? Or are you too stupefied -with terror to be able to utter a word?” - -She held the match in front of her face. It gleamed on something -white. - -“What’s that upon your bodice?” - -“My bodice?” She put up her hand. “Why----it’s a piece of -paper----pinned to my bodice! Where on earth----!” Once more the match -went out. “This truly is delightful. Never before did I realise how -much we owe to candles. The thing is pinned as if it had been meant -never to be unpinned. Where can it have come from? It can’t have -fallen from the skies. It’s plain that there are ghosts about. It’s -not easy to do a little job like this in the dark, my dear; but I’ve -managed. I’ve also managed to jab my finger in half-a-dozen places -with the pin. Emily, come here; light a match and hold it while I -examine this mysterious paper. I can’t do everything; and you don’t -seem disposed to do anything at all.” - -In endeavouring to do as she requested, I stumbled against her in the -darkness. - -“That’s right; knock me over; you’ve made me run the pin into my other -finger. There, my love, are the matches; what you’re grabbing at is my -back hair.” - -Taking a match from the box which she thrust into my hand, I tried to -light it at the wrong end; turning it round, a spark leaped into my -eye. I dropped it, to rub my eye. - -“Clever, aren’t you? Just the helpful sort of person one likes to be -able to count upon when one is in a bit of a hole. Try again; if at -first you don’t succeed, perhaps you will next time.” - -I did. I held the flaming match as conveniently for her as possible; -but, at best, it was not much of a light. Every few moments it went -out; I had to light another. As I fumbled with them now and then, I -was not always so expeditious, perhaps, as I should have been. Pollie -grumbled all the while. - -“Can’t you hold it steady? Who do you suppose can see if your hand -keeps shaking?” It was not my hand which shook, it was the flame which -flickered. “It’s queer paper; sort of cigarette paper, it seems to be; -I never saw any like it--at least, so far as I can judge by the light -of that match which you won’t hold steady. I wonder where it came -from, and who it’s from. Emily, someone’s been playing pranks on us -this night; I should like to know just what pranks they were. That’s -right, let the match go out; can’t you keep it alight a little -longer?” - -“Thank you; it has burned my fingers as it is.” - -I lit another. - -“There is writing on it; I thought there was; I can see it now. Hold -that match of yours closer.” - -In my anxiety to obey her, I gave it too sudden a jerk, the flame was -extinguished. - -“There! I suppose you’ll say that you burned that to an end. If you go -on wasting them at this rate we shall be in a fix indeed. How do you -know that those aren’t all the matches we have got?” - -“There are some more upon the mantelpiece--I saw them.” - -“You saw the boxes; you didn’t see the matches; they may be empty. For -all you can tell rats may be as fond of matches as they are of -candles. Now, do be careful; don’t let that go out. Nearer; the way -you shiver and shake is trying, my love. I never knew there was so -much flicker in a match before. What’s it say? Someone’s been writing -with the point of a pin; you want a microscope to read it. Of course! -Let it go out just as I was beginning to see. You are a treasure! This -time do try to let us have a light on the subject as long as you can.” - -She held the paper within an inch of the tip of her nose, and I held a -match as close as I dared. She began to decipher the writing. - -“‘Put the key to the front and the key to the back under the door, and -you shall be released. Until you do you will be kept a prisoner. And -the fate of the doomed shall be yours. You child of disobedience!’ -This is pretty; very pretty, on my word. There’s a style about the -get-up of the thing which suggests that the person who got it up -wasn’t taught writing in England; but if it wasn’t written by a woman, -I’m a Dutchman.” - -“Then it was she.” - -“She? What do you mean? That’s right! By all means let the light go -out at the moment it’s most wanted. Perhaps you’ll tell me what you -mean by ‘she’ in the dark.” - -“Pollie, after you had gone to sleep I had a visitor.” - -“A visitor! Emily! And you’re alive to tell the tale! And let me sleep -on! And never tried to wake me!” - -“At the beginning I was too much afraid, and afterwards I couldn’t.” - -“Who was the visitor?” - -“Well, that’s more than I can tell you, except that it was a woman.” - -“A woman--Emily--came in here after I had gone to sleep! Don’t you -see, or if you can’t see, can’t you feel that I’m on tenterhooks? Will -you go on, or must I take you by the shoulders and shake it out of -you?” - -I told her what there was to tell, in the dark. She stood close up to -me. As she said, I could feel she was on tenterhooks. She gripped me -with her hands, as if she were unwilling to let there be so much as an -inch of space between us, for fear of losing a syllable of what I had -to say. As the interest increased her grasp tightened. Yet when I had -to stop and tell her that she was pinching me black and blue, she -resented my remonstrance as if it had been an unnecessary interruption -of my narration. She could not have been more unreasonable had she -tried. And to crown it all, so soon as I had finished she professed to -doubt me. - -“You’re sure you’ve been telling me just exactly what took place. I -know your taste for the romantic.” - -“I’ve been telling you nothing but the sober facts.” - -“Sober, you call them? Staggering facts they seem to me. But why -didn’t you ask the creature who she was?” - -“Don’t I tell you that I did? And she replied that she was a daughter -of the gods, and held life and death in her hand.” - -“Is that so? She must have been a oner. Emily, I’ll never forgive you -as long as I live for letting me sleep on.” - -“Don’t! I wish you wouldn’t pinch. If you’d been in my place, I don’t -believe you’d have done anything different--it’s all very well for you -to talk. Why didn’t you wake up on your own accord? Anyone else in -your place would have done--I should. The truth is, Pollie, you were -sleeping like a grampus.” - -“Thank you, my pet. I don’t quite know how a grampus sleeps, and I -don’t believe you do either; but I’m obliged for the compliment all -the same. I suppose it’s meant for a compliment. Of course the thing’s -as plain as a pikestaff. Your daughter of the gods sneaked out of one -of Bluebeard’s chambers, where, no doubt, she is at this identical -moment. Shouldn’t I like to get at her! I will before I’m done. It -seems as if she--or somebody--is discontented with the way I’ve -behaved since I came into my fortune, though it’s early days to be -dissatisfied. And the idea apparently is to get hold of the keys, and -then to get rid of me; on the supposition that when I’m once outside I -shan’t be able, without the keys, to get in again. But I’m not quite -so simple as I look. When she went I expect you fell asleep, though -why you didn’t wake me up, and help chivy her downstairs, is more than -I can understand. I’d have daughter-of-the-gods her! Then she sneaked -back, searched for the keys. Fortunately, the intricacies of a -Christian woman’s costume were too many for her. So she jumped to the -conclusion that they were concealed in some mysterious hiding-place, -quite beyond her finding out, daughter of the gods though she is. She -pinned the piece of paper to my bodice, and she locked the door, -supposing that we’d the spirits of mice, and that we’d give her what -she’s no more right to than the man in the moon, just to unlock it -again. But you’re mistaken, you daughter of the gods! Emily, I can’t -see your face, and you can’t see mine. If you could you’d see -determination written on it, and you’d know she was. I don’t mean to -be kept shut up like a rat in a trap, not much, I don’t. Outside -there! Are you going to open this door, or am I to open it for you?” - -Bang, bang she went with her fists against the panels. The noise she -made shook the room. - -“One thing’s certain, this door’s not protected with sheet iron, or -any pretty stuff of that kind. If it’s not unlocked it won’t be long -before I’m through it, anyhow. Do you hear, you daughter of the gods?” - -Smash, crash went the fists again. - -I did not know what to say, still less what to do. It was useless -proffering advice. She never was amenable to that. I was sure she -would resent it hotly then. Yet what she proposed to gain by going on -was beyond my comprehension. - -It was becoming pretty plain to me that whatever object her Uncle -Benjamin had in view when he made his will it was not his niece’s -benefit. It seemed as if he had died as he had lived, true to the -character which Pollie gave of him. I was beginning to think that he -had meant to use her as a catspaw, though why, or in what way, I -confess I did not understand. That the house was not a good house I -was sure; that it harboured some dreadful characters I felt convinced; -perhaps coiners, or forgers, or abandoned creatures of some kind. -Pollie might be meant to serve as a sort of cover. Her occupation of -the place might be intended to avert suspicion. People seeing her -going in and out, and being aware she lived there, would think there -was nothing strange about the house. It need not be generally known -that she had only access to a part of it. The prohibition against -allowing anybody but another girl to cross the threshold was evidently -meant as a precaution against allowing that fact to become discovered. -Oh yes! nothing could be plainer than that, so far from Pollie’s being -the lucky heritor of a handsome fortune, she was only the tool of her -wicked old uncle; and that, consciously or unconsciously, as such she -was to hide from the world some one or other of his nefarious schemes -which had to be kept hidden even after he was in his grave. - -As such thoughts kept chasing each other through my brain I could keep -them to myself no longer. - -“Pollie, do you know what I should do if I were you?” - -“Break open the door with a chair, or the leg of the bedstead, my -dear?” - -“I should leave the house this moment.” - -“Would you indeed? And then?” - -“I should go straight to Mr. Paine, and I should renounce the fortune -which your wicked old uncle has pretended to leave you, and refuse to -fall into the trap which he had laid.” - -“Emily! Are you insane?” - -“No, I’m not insane, and it’s because I’m not that I’m advising you. I -feel sure that your Uncle Benjamin never meant to do you any good when -he made that will of his.” - -“So far I’m with you. But it’s just possible that the niece may prove -a match for the uncle; she means to try. This is my house, at present. -I’m mistress here, and I mean to play the mistress; not act as if I -were afraid to raise my voice above a whisper. So don’t you forget it, -or we shall quarrel; and, even if things are as bad as you seem to -think, I don’t see how you’ll be better off for that. Light a match, -and keep on lighting one till I tell you to stop.” - -She ordered me as if I were a servant: I obeyed because I could not -see my way to refuse. In the match-light she marched to the -mantelpiece. - -“Here’s three boxes of matches for you; I’ll take care of the rest. -The matches are in them, luckily. Now the question is what is the -handiest little article by whose help I can get soonest on the other -side of that door. Ah! here’s the poker. It is not much use against -sheet iron, but I fancy it will work wonders with plain wood.” - -Brandishing the poker above her head--exactly in the wild way she had -done the night before--she strode towards the door. As she did so -someone addressed her from without; in a deep rumbling bass, which was -more like a growl than a human voice. - -“Beware, you fool, beware! Your life’s at stake, more than your life. -Obey, before it is too late.” - -In my most natural surprise and agitation, the match, dropping from my -fingers, was extinguished as it reached the floor. The room was -plunged into darkness. Pollie behaved as if the fault were mine. - -“You idiot! Did you do that on purpose?” - -She caught me by the arm as if she meant to break it. In her -unreasoning rage I quite expected her to strike me with the poker. As -I waited for it to fall the voice came again. - -“Be warned!--for the last time!--obey!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - THE NOISE WHICH CAME FROM THE PASSAGE. - -Smash, crash, smash! Pollie had thrust me aside. She was battering -at the door with her poker, issuing, as she did so, her instructions -to me. - -“Light a match, you idiot! light a match!” - -I did. She paused to enable her to learn, by the aid of its uncertain -flicker, what effect her blows had had upon the door. - -“Give it to me. Light another! Do as I tell you, keep on lighting one. -I’ll do all that there is to do; all you have to do is to keep a light -upon the scene. Do you hear?--I thought that poker would be equal to a -wooden door.” - -She had broken in one of the panels, leaving a hole almost large -enough for her to put her hand through. - -“Give me another match; as many as you can; as fast as you can!” - -I gave her them as quickly as I could get them lighted. She held half -a dozen between her fingers at at a time. Keeping her face close to -the break in the panel she endeavoured, by their light, to see what -was without. - -“Now, Mr. Bogey-man, where are you? Step to the front, don’t be shy! -Let’s see what kind of an article you are. It’s only Pollie Blyth, you -pretty thing; you’re not afraid of Pollie Blyth? Perhaps you’re the -father of the daughter of the gods; if so, I’m sure I should like to -have a peep at you, you must be so good-looking. You see that I’m -obeying. When I reach you I’ll show you how to do some obeying on your -own. I’ll thank you properly for treating the mistress of the house as -if she were the dirt beneath your feet. Emily, my dear, there’s -nothing and no one to be seen; move faster with those matches do! I’m -afraid Mr. Bogey-man is a cur and a coward. He has a big voice, but -that’s all that’s big about him. Perhaps he suspects that this poker -is harder than his head; and, between you, I, and the door post, I -shouldn’t be surprised if he finds he’s right. Keep lively with those -matches. I don’t fancy there’ll be much trouble in dealing with this -curiosity in locks; but I should like to have some idea of what I’m -doing. Now then, stand clear! Here’s to you, Mr. Bogey-man.” - -She brought down the poker with a force of which I had never supposed -her capable; this was a new Pollie, whose existence was becoming for -the first time known to me. I wondered what they would have thought of -her at Cardew and Slaughter’s! The rotten old lock started from its -fastenings; the door itself was shaken to its foundations. - -“That’s one. There’s not much about this job to try your strength on. -I think we shall manage it in three. Here’s to our early meeting, Mr. -Bogey-man.” - -She managed it in three. At the third blow the door was open. I had -not expected it so soon. Taken unawares, before I had time to shield -the light the draught had blown it out. Of course Pollie turned to -rend me. - -“That’s you all over; such a sensible thing to do. Don’t let us have a -light when we want it most. How do you suppose that we are going to -see Mr. Bogey-man when we can’t see anything?” - -As it happened, her reproach was premature. Just then we could see a -good deal; all that there was to see. As the door swung open the -landing was illumined by a faint white light, which was yet strong -enough to throw all objects into distinct relief. It seemed to ascend -from below. Pollie rushed to the banisters; to discover nothing. - -“More tricks, I suppose. What a box of tricks somebody seems to have. -Reminds you of the Egyptian Hall, doesn’t it, my dear? Thank you, -whoever you are, for this magic lantern effect; and for allowing us to -see that there is nothing to be seen. It’s so good of you to show a -trifle of light upon the situation; isn’t it, my sweet?” - -She paused; as if for an answer. None came. The light continued. She -turned to me, speaking at the top of her voice, with the obvious -intention of making her words audible to whomsoever the house might -contain. - -“Tell me, Emily, what you would advise me to do. Shall I go straight -away to a police station; say that in two rooms in this house are -hidden a pack of thieves; return with an adequate police force, have -the rooms broken open and their inmates arrested? or shall I address -myself to the persons whom we know are in concealment; tell them that -I am Pollie Blyth, the rightful owner of this house; appeal to their -better natures; assuring them that if they will trust in me they shall -not have cause to complain of misplaced confidence; and that I will do -all that an honest woman may to shield them from the consequences of -any offences of which they have been guilty. Which of these two -courses would you advise me to take?” - -I hesitated before replying. When I spoke it was in a voice which was -very many tones lower than hers. She objected to its gentleness. - -“I would suggest----” - -“Speak up. You’re not afraid of being overheard.” - -I was, though I was not disposed to admit as much. Clearing my throat, -I tried to speak a little louder. Although the loudness of my voice -startled me, it did not come within miles of her stentorian -utterances. - -“I think you had better go straight away to the police station; I feel -sure you had.” - -“I believe you are right. But as that would probably mean that anyone -found hiding on my premises would be sent to prison for life; and I do -not wish to have even the worst characters hauled into jail without -giving them a chance to clear themselves, I will listen to the -dictates of mercy first of all. Do you understand?” - -Going to the closed door which adjoined the bedroom we had just -quitted she beat a tattoo on it with the end of the poker. - -“You may be sure that what I say I mean, so if you are wise you will -be warned in time. Come out, and make a clean breast of why you have -been trying to hide in such a ridiculous manner from the rightful -owner of these premises, and all may yet be well with you. I’m a -forgiving sort of person when I’m taken in the right way. But if you -won’t come out, I’ll have you dragged out by the head and heels, and -then all will be ill with you, very ill indeed. For I’m the hardest -nut you ever cracked if I’m taken in the wrong way. Do you hear, you -daughter of the gods, or whoever you are?” - -The inquiry was emphasised by another tattoo with the end of the -poker. At its close she paused for a reply. None came. She was -evidently dissatisfied that her eloquence should have met with so bald -a result. - -“Very well, Emily, you will bear me witness that I gave them due and -proper warning. It will be all nonsense for them to pretend that they -haven’t heard. They couldn’t help but hear. See how I’ve shouted. Oh -yes, they’ve all heard right enough! Now they must take the -consequences of their own stupidity. Their blood will be on their own -heads. They’ll have to suffer. Oh, won’t you just have to suffer!” - -Another salute from the end of the poker. While she was still -hammering at the door, the mysterious light which had continued -hitherto to illumine the staircase, without any sort of notice died -away. - -“Emily!--a match!--quick! I think I hear someone moving.” - -I also had thought that I heard a movement; which was not rats. I -struck a light as rapidly as my blundering fingers would permit. - -“Come to the banisters, hurry! If anyone is going to act upon my -excellent advice, and is coming up the stairs, let’s have a chance of -seeing who it is.” - -In my anxiety not to baulk her impatience I hastened towards her -before the match had properly ignited; as a result, with a little -splutter, it went out. - -“You idiot! Don’t you know that life and death may hang upon your -being able to keep a match alight?” - -I knew it as well as she did. The knowledge did not lend to steady my -nerves; especially when it was emphasised in such a fashion. I made -several ineffectual efforts to induce a match to burn; with one accord -they refused to do anything. Uttering an angry ejaculation Pollie -struck one of her own. - -“Emily, there is someone moving; but they’re not coming up, they’re -going down. Then if they won’t come to me I must go to them, that’s -all. Mr. Bogey-man, or Miss Daughter-of-the-gods, or whoever you are, -if you please, I want a word with you.” - -Without giving me a hint of what she intended to do she rushed down -the stairs, half-a-dozen at a time. Of course the match she carried -was immediately extinguished. I could hear her, undeterred by its -extinction, plunging blindly down through the darkness. I succeeded in -getting one of my matches to burn. I leaned over the banisters to let -her have the benefit of any radiance it might afford. I could see -nothing of her. She was on the flight below. - -“Pollie! Pollie!” I cried. “Do be careful what you’re doing.” - -I could not tell if she heard me. The warning went unheeded if she -did. My match went out. Before I could strike another there arose, -through the darkness, from the passage below, the most dreadful tumult -I had ever heard. Shriek after shriek from Pollie; shrieks as of -mortal terror. A growling noise, as of some wild animal in sudden -rage. The din of a furious struggle. How long the uproar lasted I -cannot say. On a sudden there came a wilder, more piercing scream from -Pollie than any which had gone before; the growling grew more furious; -there was the sound of a closing door, and all was still. - -The death-like silence which followed was of evil omen. The contrast -to the discord of a moment back was frightfully significant. I clung -to the banisters to help me stand. What had happened to Pollie? What, -shortly--at any second! might happen to me? I did not dare to try and -think. I felt the handrail slipping from my grasp. Merciful oblivion -swept over me. I was conscious of nothing more. - - - - - BOOK III. - THE GOD OF FORTUNE. - - (MR. FRANK PAINE TELLS THE STORY OF HIS ASSOCIATION WITH THE - TESTAMENTARY DISPOSITIONS OF MR. BENJAMIN BATTERS.) - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - THE AFFAIR OF THE FREAK. - -I have not yet been able to determine if my connection with the -testamentary dispositions of Mr. Benjamin Batters was or was not, in -the first place, owing to what I call the Affair of the Freak in the -Commercial Road. On no other hypothesis can I understand why the -business should have been placed in my hands. While, at the same time, -I am willing to admit that the connection, if any, was of so shadowy -a nature that I am myself at a loss to perceive where it quite comes -in. - -What exactly took place was this. - -George Kingdon had got his first command. As we have been the friends -of a lifetime, and are almost of an age, he being twenty-seven and I -twenty-eight, the matter had almost as much interest for me as it had -for him. The vessel’s name was _The Flying Scud_. It was to leave the -West India south dock on Tuesday, April 3. He dined with me the night -before. We drank success to the voyage. The following day I went to -see him start. All went well; he had a capital send off; was in the -highest spirits; and the last I saw of him the ship was going down the -river on the tide. - -It was, I suppose, about seven o’clock in the evening. It had been a -glorious day; promised to be as fine a night. The shadows were only -just beginning to lengthen. I had had a drink or two with Kingdon, and -felt that a walk would do me good. I strolled along Preston’s Road and -High Street, into the West India Road, and thence into the Commercial -Road. Before I had gone very far I came upon a number of people who -were thronging round one of the entrances into Limehouse Basin. They -were crowding round some central object which was apparently affording -them entertainment of a somewhat equivocal kind. I asked a bystander -what was the matter; a man with between his lips a clay pipe turned -bowl downwards. - -“It’s one of Barnum’s Freaks. They’re giving him what for.” - -“What’s he done?” - -“Done?” The fellow shrugged his shoulders. “He ain’t done nothing so -far as I knows on; what should he ’ave done? They’re only ’aving a -bit o’ fun.” - -It was fun of a peculiar sort; humorous from the Commercial Road point -of view only. I doubted if the “Freak” found it amusing. He was being -hustled this way and that; serving as a target for remarks which were, -to say the least, unflattering. All at once there came a dent in the -crowd. The “Freak” had either tumbled, or been pushed, over. Three or -four of his more assiduous admirers had gone down on the top of him. -The others roared. Four or five of those in the front rank were shoved -upon the rest. The joke expanded. Presently the “Freak” was at the -bottom of a writhing heap. - -Perceiving that the jest was likely to become a serious one for the -point of it, I forced my way into the centre of the crowd. - -“Stand back!” I cried. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves! You -ought to pity the man instead of making sport of him. He is as God -made him; it is not his fault that he is not like you.” - -Nor, I felt as I looked at the faces which surrounded me, was it, -after all, his serious misfortune either. Unless their looks belied -them, in a moral, mental, and physical sense, the majority of them -were “freaks,” if the word had any meaning. They gave way, however, to -let me pass; it seemed that their temper was thoughtless rather than -cruel. Soon I had extricated the wretched creature from his -ignominious, and even perilous, position. Hailing a passing -four-wheeler I put him into it. I slipped some money into the driver’s -hand, and, bidding him take his fare to Olympia, the man drove off. -The crowd booed a little, and then stared at me. Then, seeing that I -paid them no sort of heed, they were so good as to suffer me to pursue -my way unmolested and alone. - -It was only after I had gone some little distance that I realised that -I knew nothing whatever about the creature I had put into the cab. I -had only the clay-piped gentleman’s word for the fact that he, she, or -it was a freak at all. The creature--I call it creature for lack of -more precise knowledge as to what he, she, or it, really was--was so -enveloped in an odd-shaped cloak of some dark brown material, that, -practically, so far as I had been able to see, nothing of it was -visible. For all that I could tell the creature beneath the cloak -might not have been human. There was certainly nothing to show--except -the way in which it was shrouded, and that might have been owing to -the action of the crowd--that it was what is commonly called a freak. -Its connection with the Barnum Show at Olympia might be as remote as -mine. If a mistake had been made I wondered what would happen when it -was discovered. Playing the Good Samaritan in the London streets is -not always a remunerative rôle for any one concerned. In my -blundering haste I had probably done at least as much harm as good. I -smiled, drily, at the reflection. Anyhow, I had given the cabman a -liberal fare. To me, then, as now, a cab fare is a cab fare. - -I had turned into Cable Street and was nearing the Tower. By now the -night had fallen. In that part of the world, at that hour--I remember -that a minute or two before I had heard a clock strike nine, so that -either I had been longer on the road, or it had been later at the -start, than I imagined--there were not many people in the streets. -There seemed to be fewer the further I went. At any rate, ere long, I -should have them to myself. I was, therefore, the more surprised when, -as I was reaching Tower Hill, without any sort of warning, someone -touched me on the shoulder from behind. I turned to see who had -accosted me. It was rather dark just there, so that it was a moment or -two before I perceived who it was. - -It was a woman, and that was about all which, at first, I could make -out. She, too, was enveloped in a cloak. It was of such ample -dimensions that not only did it conceal her figure, but, drawn over -her head, it almost completely concealed her features. Nearly all that -I could see was a pair of what seemed unusually bright eyes, gleaming -from under its folds. My impulse was to take her for a beggar, or -worse, for a woman of the streets. - -“What do you want?” - -“Take this, it is for helping him just now.” - -Before I could prevent her she had slipped something into my hand. It -felt as if it were something hard, wrapped in a piece of paper. - -“For helping whom?” - -“The Great God.” - -She dropped her voice to a whisper. I had not the vaguest inkling of -her meaning. - -“What do you mean?--What is this you have given me?” - -“It is the God of Fortune; it will bring you good luck. Tell me your -name.” - -“My name? What has my name to do with you? Whatever is this? I cannot -take it from you; thank you all the same.” - -I held out to her the little packet she had pressed into my palm. She -ignored it; repeating her inquiry. - -“Tell me your name, quick!” - -There was a curious insistence in her manner which tickled what I, -with sufficient egotism, call my sense of humour. She spoke as if she -had but to command for me to obey; I obeyed. I furnished her not only -with my name, but, also, with my address. There was no harm done. I am -a solicitor; figure on the law list; advertisement, of some sort, is -to me something very much like bread and cheese. Without thanking me, -or dropping a hint to explain her curiosity, so soon as I had supplied -her with the information she demanded, turning, she flew off down the -street like some wild thing. I doubt if I could have kept pace with -her had I tried. I did not try. I let her go. - -“This is a night of adventures,” I said to myself. “What is the -present which the lady’s given me; the money which I paid the -cabman?--Hallo!--That’s queer!” - -I was beginning to tear open the piece of paper, and with that intent -had already twisted off a corner, when, hey presto! it opened of its -own accord, just as if a living thing had been inside, and, with a -rapid movement, rent it from top to bottom. I was holding what seemed -to be a curiosity in the way of tiny dolls. The toy, if it was a toy, -was not so long as my forefinger. It seemed to have been cut out of a -piece of wood, and fantastically painted to illustrate some very -peculiar original. It had neither feet nor legs, nor hands or arms. -Its head, which was set between hunched-up shoulders, was chiefly -remarkable for a pair of sparkling eyes, which I concluded to be -beads. I turned it over and over without discovering anything which -pointed to a hidden spring. It looked as if it had never moved, and -never would. There was nothing whatever to show by what means the -paper had come open. - -“It’s odd, and ingenious. I suppose there is a spring of some sort; -wood, even when it represents the God of Fortune--I think the lady -mentioned the God of Fortune--does not move of its own volition. I’ll -discover it when I get home.” - -I slipped the toy into my waistcoat pocket, meaning to subject it to a -searching examination later on. However, when I reached my chambers I -found letters which demanded immediate attention. They occupied some -time. It was only when I was thinking of a nightcap preparatory to -turning into bed, and was feeling for a penknife with which to cut a -cigar, that I remembered the doll. I tossed it on to the mantelshelf. -There it remained. - -As I have said, that was the night of April 3. Since nearly a month -elapsed before the arrival of Mr. Batters’ will, and nothing in any -way suggestive occurred in the interval, it would seem as if the -connection between the will and the events of that evening was of the -slightest. Yet I felt that if it had not been for the Affair of the -Freak in the Commercial Road, or if I had afterwards refused to give -the woman my name and address, I should have heard nothing of Mr. -Batters’ will. I do not pretend to be able to explain the feeling, but -there it was. - -I should, perhaps, in fairness add, that a queer little incident which -coincided with the arrival of the will, seemed to point, whimsically -enough, in the same direction. - -The document came on a Thursday morning. When I entered the room which -I used as an office, I found that four communications were awaiting -me. The postman had brought them all. The boy I call--to shed dignity -on him and on myself--a clerk, had set them out upon the table. Three -letters in ordinary envelopes. The fourth was an awkward, bulky, -coarse brown paper parcel. On it was the doll which the woman had -given me on the night of April 3, in the lonely street near Tower -Hill. - -I had forgotten its existence. I took it for granted that its presence -on that spot was owing to Crumper’s sense of humour. I called to him. - -“Crumper!” His head appeared at the door. “What do you mean by putting -this here?” He stared, as if he did not catch my meaning. There are -moments when Crumper finds it convenient to be dull. “You understand -me well enough; what do you mean by putting this doll upon my parcel?” - -He still looked as if he did not understand. But Crumper had a -capacity of being able to handle his face as if it were an indiarubber -mask, on which he is able to produce any expression at will. - -“Doll, sir? I don’t know anything about a doll, sir.” He came into the -room, pointing with his thumb. “Do you mean that, sir? It wasn’t there -when I left the room just now; to that I’ll take my affidavit.” - -It is no use arguing with Crumper. The depth of his innocence is not -to be easily plumbed. I sent him back to his den; knocked the doll -with a fillip of my finger backwards on to the table; opened the brown -paper parcel. - -Of its contents I was not able, at first, to make head or tail. After -prolonged examination, however, I arranged them thus: - - (_a_) The Missionary’s Letter. - (_b_) The Holograph Will. - (_c_) The Bonds. - (_d_) The Enclosure. - -Summed up, the contents of the packet amounted to this. - -A certain Benjamin Batters was reported to have died on an island on -the other side of the world of which I had never heard; why I was -advised of the fact, there was nothing to show. His will was entrusted -to my keeping--how my name had travelled through space so as to reach -the cognisance of the Mr. Arthur Lennard who had reported the death of -the said Benjamin Batters there was not the faintest hint. -Bonds--“Goschens”--to the value of £20,000 accompanied the will; -since they were payable to bearer this alone suggested profound -confidence in an apparently perfect stranger. Finally, there was a -smaller parcel which was sealed and endorsed “To be given to my niece, -Mary Blyth, and to be opened by her only.” - -The will--which was almost as rudimentary a document of the kind as I -ever lighted on--bequeathed to the said Mary Blyth the income which -was derived from the consols. As to the person in whose name the -capital was to be vested not a word was said, nor did I perceive -anything which would prevent her from dealing with it exactly as she -chose. She was also, under curious and stringent conditions, to become -the life tenant of a house in Camford Street of which, however, no -title-deeds were enclosed, nor was their existence hinted at. - -Had it not been for the presence of the bonds I should have set the -whole thing down right away as a hoax. The heading on “Arthur -Lennard’s” letter was “Great Ka Island: Lat. 5° South; Long. 134° -East.” There might be such a place; the description seemed precise -enough, and I had no atlas which would enable me to determine. But, at -any rate, the packet in which it came had not been posted there. The -postmark was Deptford; the date yesterday’s. When I held the paper on -which the letter had been written up to the light I found that the -watermark was “Spiers and Pond. Freshwater Mill Note. London,” which, -under the circumstances, seemed odd. - -It was, perhaps, nothing that the will was obviously the production of -an unlettered person. Such persons do make their own wills, and, -probably, will continue to do so to the crack of doom. But it was -something that it was both unwitnessed and undated. And when to this -was added the fact that the letter which told of Mr. Batters’ decease -was undated too, the conjunction struck one a trifle forcibly. - -Then the conditions under which Mary Blyth was to inherit were so -puerile, not to say outrageous. She was never to be out of the -precious house in Camford Street after nine at night. She was to -receive no visitors; have only a woman as a companion, and if that -woman left her, was to occupy the premises alone. After I had read it -for the fourth time I threw the paper on to the table. - -“Monstrous! monstrous! It consigns the unfortunate woman to an -unnatural existence; she cannot marry; is cut off from her fellows; -sentenced to lifelong imprisonment. Who would care to become even a -millionaire on such conditions? Even if the thing is what it pretends -to be, I doubt if it would be upheld by any court in England. I’m -inclined to think that someone has been having a little joke at my -expense.” - -But there were the bonds. My experience of such articles is -regrettedly small; but, such as it was, it went to show that they were -genuine. Bonds for £20,000 are not a joke. They are among the most -solemn facts of life. If, then, they were real, the presumption was -that the will was not less so. In which case my duty was to have it -proved, and to see that its terms were carried out. Anyhow, there were -the bonds on which to draw for payment of my fees. Emphatically, my -practice was not of sufficient extent to permit me to treat so fat a -client with indifferent scorn. - -Cogitating such matters, I had been indulging in what is a habit of -mine; pacing, with my hands in my pockets, up and down the room. -Returning to the table, I prepared to subject the supposititious will -to a still more minute examination. It was not till I stretched out my -hand that I noticed that, in the centre of the sheet of blue foolscap -on which it was inscribed, was--the God of Fortune, the doll in -miniature which, once already, I had ejected from a similar position. -How it had returned to it was a problem which, just then, was beyond -my finding out. I had filliped it right to the extreme edge of the -table. No one had been in the room; Crumper had not so much as put up -the tip of his nose inside the door. I had not touched the thing. Yet -there it was, ostentatiously perched on Mr. Batters’ will. I stared at -the doll; I had an odd notion that the doll stared at me; a ridiculous -feeling, indeed, that the preposterous puppet was alive. I scratched -my head. - -“I fancy this morning I must be a bit off colour. A penny doll alive, -indeed! I shall begin seeing things if I don’t look out.” - -I slipped the doll into my waistcoat pocket; noting, as I did so, that -it was ugly enough to startle the most morbid-minded juvenile admirers -of its kind. I glanced at the three letters which the morning post had -brought me, neither of which proved to be of any account. Slipped the -missionary’s letter, Mr. Batters’ will, and one of the bonds into an -envelope. Locked the enclosure to be given to Mary Blyth and the rest -of the bonds in a drawer; and, with the envelope in my hand, went to -call on Gregory Pryor. - -Pryor is a barrister of some years’ standing; a “rising junior”; -hard-working, hard-headed, a sound lawyer, and a man of the world. -What is more, a friend of my father’s who has transferred his -friendship to me. More than once when I have found myself in a -professional quandary I have laid the matter before him; on each -occasion he has given me just that help and advice I needed. I felt -assured that I should lose nothing by asking for his opinion on the -curious case of Mr. Batters’ will. - -When, however, I reached his chambers the clerk told me he was out, -engaged in court. I left word that I would return later in the day. -Having nothing on hand of pressing importance, I felt that I could -hardly employ the interval better than by finding out all that I could -with reference to the house in Camford Street which Mr. Batters -claimed as his own. If the claim proved to be well founded, then the -document which purported to be his will was probably no hoax. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - COUNSEL’S OPINION. - -I should not myself have cared to live in Camford Street, though it -had many residents. It was in the heart, if not exactly of a slum, -then certainly of an unsavoury district. Its surroundings, -residentially speaking, were about as undesirable as they could have -been. Camford Street itself was long, dreary, out-at-elbows, old -enough to look as if it would be improved by being rebuilt. Painters, -whitewashers, people of that kind, had not been down that way for -years; that was obvious from the fronts of the houses. Buildings -stretched from end to end in one continuous depressing row. -Half-a-dozen houses, then a shop; half-a-dozen more, and a blacking -manufactory; three more, and a public-house; another six and a -“wardrobe dealer’s,” doubtful third and fourth hand garments dimly -visible through dirty panes of glass, and so on, for a good half mile. - -Eighty-four looked, what it undoubtedly was, an abode of mystery, as -grimy an edifice as the street contained. I know nothing of the value -of property thereabouts; whatever it might have been it was not the -kind of house I should care to have bequeathed to me. Especially if I -had to reside in it. I would rather pass it on to someone who was more -deserving. Shutters were up at all the windows. There was not a trace -of a blind or curtain. At the front door there was neither bell nor -knocker. It seemed deserted. I rapped at the panels with the handle of -my stick; once, and then again. An urchin addressed me from the kerb. - -“There ain’t no one living in that ’ouse, guv’nor.” - -I thanked him for the information; it never occurred to me to shed a -shadow of doubt on it. I felt sure that he was right. I crossed to a -general shop on the other side of the way. - -“Excuse me,” I said to the individual whom I took for the -proprietor--“Kennard” was the name over the shop front--“Can you tell -me who lives at No. 84?” - -“No one.” - -Mr. Kennard--I was convinced it was he--was a short, paunchy man, with -a bald head and a club foot. He pursed his lips and screwed up his -eyes in a fashion which struck me as rather comical. - -“Who is the landlord?” - -“No one knows.” - -“No one?” I smiled. “I presume you mean that you don’t know. Someone -must; the local authorities, for instance.” - -“The local authorities don’t. I’m a vestryman myself, so you can take -that from me. There’s been no rates and taxes paid on that house for -twenty years or more; because no one knows to whom to go for them.” - -He thrust his hands under his white apron, protruding his stomach in a -manner which was a little aggressive. - -“The last person who lived at Eighty-four was an old gentleman, named -Robertson. He was a customer of mine, and owed me three pound seven -and four when he was missing. It’s on my books to this hour.” - -“Missing? Did he run away?” - -“Not he; he wasn’t that sort. Besides, there was no reason. He was a -pensioner; he told me so himself. I don’t know what he got his pension -for, but it must have been a pretty comfortable one, because he paid -me regular for over seven years; and I understood at that time, from -what he said, that the house was his own. If it wasn’t I can’t say to -whom he paid rent. The last time I saw him was a Friday night. He came -in here and bought a pound of bacon--out of the back; twelve -eggs--breakfast; five pounds of cheese--I never knew anyone who was -fonder of cheese, he liked it good; a pound of best butter--there was -no margarine nor Australian either in those days; and a pound of -candles. I’ve never seen or heard anything of him since; and, as I -say, that’s more than twenty years ago.” - -“But what became of him?” - -“That’s more than I can tell you. Perhaps you can tell me. You see, it -was this way.” - -Mr. Kennard was communicative. Business was slack just then. -Apparently I had hit upon a favourite theme. - -“Mr. Robertson was one of your quiet kind. Kept himself to himself; -lived all alone; seemed to know no one; no one ever came to see him. -He never even had any letters; because, afterwards, the postman told -me so with his own lips; he said he’d never known of his having a -letter all the time he was in this district. Sometimes nothing would -be seen of him for three weeks together. Whether he went away or -simply shut himself up indoors I never could make out. He was the -least talkative old chap I ever came across. When you asked him a -question which he didn’t want to answer, which was pretty well always, -he pretended he was silly and couldn’t understand. But he was no more -silly than I was; eccentric, that was all. Anyhow, when the weeks -slipped by, and he wasn’t seen about, no one thought it odd, his -habits being generally known. When quarter day came round I sent my -little girl, Louisa--she’s married now, and got a family--across with -my bill. She came back saying that she could make no one hear; and, -through my window, I could see she couldn’t. ‘That’s all right,’ I -said, ‘There’s no fear for Mr. Robertson’--I’d such a respect for the -man--‘he’s sure to pay.’ But, if sure, he’s been precious slow; for, -as I say, that three seven four is on my books to this hour.” - -“If, as you say, the old gentleman lived alone, he may have been lying -dead in the house all the time.” - -“That’s what I’ve felt. And, what’s more, I’ve felt that his skeleton -may be lying there now.” - -“You suggest some agreeable reflections. Do you mean to say that, -during all these years, no one has been in the house to see?” - -“No one.” He paused; presently adding, in a tone which he intended -should be pregnant with meaning, “At least, until shortly before this -last Christmas. And I’ve no certainty about that. A man can only draw -his own conclusions.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“You see those shutters? Well, for over twenty years there weren’t any -shutters hiding those windows. One morning I looked across the street, -and there they were.” - -“Someone had put them up in the night?” - -“That was my impression. But Mrs. Varley, who lives next door to this, -says that she noticed them coming for about a week. Each morning there -was another window shuttered. She never mentioned a word of it to me; -so that I can only tell you that when I saw them first they were all -up.” - -“Who was responsible for their appearance?” - -“That’s what I should like to know. Directly I clapped eyes on them I -went straight across the road, and knocked at the door; thinking that -if old Robertson had come back--though he’d be pretty ancient if he -had--I might get my money after all; and that if he hadn’t there’d be -no harm done. But no more attention was paid to me than if I hadn’t -been there. I daresay that if I’ve knocked once since I’ve knocked -twenty times; but, though I’ve always felt as if there was someone -inside listening, I’ve never seen a soul about the place, and no one -has ever answered. I tell you what; there’s something queer about that -house. More than once it’s been on the tip of my tongue to warn a -policeman to keep an eye on it. It’s my opinion that London will hear -about it yet.” - -Mr. Kennard was oracular. When, however, on quitting his establishment -I glanced at No. 84, I myself was conscious of a queer feeling that -there was an unusual atmosphere about the house, as if something -strange was brooding over it. I told myself that I was still a little -bilious, and imagined things. - -While I had been in conversation with Mr. Kennard I had observed a -curious face peering at us through the window of his shop. Now I -noticed a man, who struck me as being the owner of the face, loitering -a few doors up the street. As I came out, turning, so that his back -was towards me, he began to slowly stroll away. Urged by I know not -what odd impulse, I moved quickly after him. Immediately, he crossed -the street. I crossed at his heels. As if seized with sudden fear, -breaking into a run, he tore off down the street at the top of his -speed. I was reminded of the behaviour of the woman who had thrust the -God of Fortune into my hand. - -All the way back to my chambers I was haunted by a disagreeable sense -of being followed. I frequently turned in an endeavour to detect my -shadower; each time no one suspicious seemed to be in sight. Yet, so -persistent was the feeling that, on entering, after lingering for a -second or two in the hall, I darted back again into the court; to -cannon against the man who had been loitering in Camford Street. Had I -not gripped him by the shoulders he would have been bowled over like a -ninepin. - -There was no mistaking the individual. I had marked his peculiar -figure; the nondescript fashion of his dress--a long black coat, made, -apparently, of alpaca, reaching to his heels; a soft black felt hat so -much too large for his head that it almost covered his eyes. He was a -foreigner, undersized, unnaturally thin. - -“Well, my man, what can I do for you?” He did not reply. His -countenance assumed an expression of vacuous imbecility. I shook him -gently, to spur his wits. “Do you hear, what can I do for you? Since -you have taken the trouble to follow me all this way, I suppose there -is important business which you wish to transact with me.” - -The fellow said nothing. Whether he understood I could not say. He -evidently wished me to believe that he did not, shaking his head, as -if he had no tongue. I took him for a Chinaman, though he was darker -than I imagine Chinamen are wont to be. His two little bead-like eyes -burned out of two small round holes, in circumference scarcely larger -than a sixpence. Eyebrows or eyelashes he had none. His skin was -scarred by smallpox. - -Since, apparently, nothing could be done with him, I let him go. So -soon as my hand was off him he darted into the Strand like some eager -wild thing. After momentary hesitation I went to see what had become -of him. Already the traffic had swallowed him up. He was out of sight. - -Gregory Pryor was in when I called the second time. I laid the God of -Fortune down before him on the table. - -“What’s that?” I asked. - -“It’s a joss.” - -“A joss?” The promptness of his reply took me aback. “I thought a joss -was an idol.” - -“So it is; what you might call an idol. A symbol some would style it. -They’re of all sorts, shapes and sizes; that is one of the waistcoat -pocket kind. I was once in a case for a Chinaman with an -unpronounceable name. He spoke English better than you and I, knew the -ropes at least as well, yet he had one of these things in each of -about twenty-seven pockets. He was a member of one of the thirteen -thousand Taoist sects. He told me that they’d a joss for everything; a -joss for the hearth, another for the roof, another for the chimney; -three for the beard, whiskers and moustache. In every twig of every -tree they saw a joss of some sort. Where did you get yours from?” - -I informed him; then spoke of the contents of the parcel which the -morning’s post had brought. - -“I can give you one assurance--this bond’s all right. At a shade under -the market price, I can do with any number. As for your missionary’s -letter, let’s see if Great Ka Island is on the map.” - -He got down a gazetteer and an atlas. - -“The gazetteer’s an old one. There’s no mention of it here, so it -seems that it was either not known when this was published, or it was -too obscure a spot to be worth recording. The atlas is newer. Ah! here -we have it. Arafura Sea--New Guinea--Dutch New Guinea. There’s a group -of Ka Islands--Great Ka, Little Ka, and others. Great Ka’s largish, -nearly one hundred miles long, but narrow; apparently not ten miles at -the broadest part, and tapering to a point. Sort of reef, I fancy. A -good deal out of the way, and not in any steamer route I ever heard -of. A convenient address for a man who wishes to avoid inquiries.” - -Leaning back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together, -Pryor regarded the ceiling. - -“Letter’s fishy, and, being undated, no use as evidence. Will’s fishy, -too. But there are the bonds So long as a lawyer sees his way to his -fee, what else matters? I take it that there was a Benjamin Batters, -and that there is a Mary Blyth. I also fancy that there’s more in the -matter than meets the eye. It has come to you in an irregular fashion, -and therefore, in the nature of things, it is sniffy. My advice to you -is, move warily. Discover Mary Blyth; hand over the estate to her, -accepting no responsibility; present your bill, get your money; and, -unless you see good reason to the contrary, wipe your hands of her -thenceforward. If you do that you won’t do very far wrong. Now, -good-bye; I’ve got all this stuff to wade through before I dine.” - -I left him to the study of his briefs. His advice I turned over in my -mind, finally resolving that I would move even more warily than he -suggested. Before introducing myself to Mary Blyth, I would spend a -day in endeavouring to discover something about the late Benjamin -Batters, and, particularly, I would try to learn how it was that, -after his death, his affairs had chanced to fall into my hands. - -I work, live, eat and sleep in my chambers. As it happens I am the -only person on the premises who does so. There used to be others. But -now, with the exception of my set, what were living rooms are used as -offices, and I am the only actual resident the house contains. After -dark--sometimes before--the workers flit away. I have the entire -building to myself until they return with the morning. - -My rooms are four: bedroom; an apartment in which I am supposed to -take my meals; one which I use as an office; and the den, opening -immediately on to the staircase, in which Crumper has his being. That -night I was roused suddenly from sleep. At first I could not make out -what had woke me. Then I heard what was unmistakably the clatter of -something falling. - -“There’s someone in the office.” - -Slipping out of bed, picking up a hockey stick, making as little noise -as possible, I stole officewards. Intuitively I guessed who was there, -and proposed to interview my uninvited visitor. - -My hasty conclusions proved, however, to be a little out. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - THE RETICENCE OF CAPTAIN LANDER. - -The office door was ajar. I remembered that I had left it so when I -came to bed. Through the opening a dim light was visible. I peeped in. - -I had expected to find that my guest would take the shape of the -individual who had dogged my footsteps home from Camford Street. I -hardly know on what I based my expectation, but there it was. A single -glance, however, was sufficient to show that “guest” should read -“guests,” for they were three. One was the pock-marked gentleman in -question; a second was seemingly his brother--they were as alike as -two peas; the third was as remarkable a person as I had ever yet -beheld. He was of uncommon height and uncommon thinness. I never saw a -smaller head set on human shoulders. My impression was that it was a -monstrously attenuated monkey, which had thrown a yellow dust sheet -about it anyhow. And it was only when I perceived the deftness with -which the contents of my drawers were being emptied out upon the table -that it occurred to me that, man or monkey, it was advisable I should -interfere. - -Just as I had decided that it was about time for me to have a finger -in the pie, my beady-eyed acquaintance of the afternoon lighted on the -God of Fortune, which I had tossed upon the table on my return from -Pryor’s. Snatching it up with a curious cry, he handed it to his -monkey-headed friend. That long-drawn-out gentleman, after a rapid -glance at it, held it up with both hands high above his head. At once -his two associates threw themselves down flat on their faces, -grovelling before the penny doll as if it had been an object too -sacred for ordinary eyes to look upon. The man of length without -breadth began to say something in a high pitched monotone, which was -in a language quite unknown to me, but which sounded as if it were a -prayer or invocation. He spoke rapidly, as if he were repeating a form -of words which he knew by heart. - -I was getting interested. It seemed that I was surreptitiously -assisting at some sort of religious service in which the doll played a -conspicuous part. As I was momentarily expecting something to happen, -something in the Arabian Nights way, as it were, that stupid hockey -stick, slipping somehow from my grasp, fell with a bang upon the -floor. That concluded the service on the spot. It must needs strike -against the door in falling, driving it further open, so that I stood -revealed to the trio in plain sight. - -My impression is that they took me for something of horror; a -demoniacal visitation, for all I know. My costume was weird enough to -astonish even the Occidental mind. Anyhow, no sooner did they get a -glimpse at me than they stood not on the order of their going, but -went at once. Out went the light, and, also, out went they, through -the window by which they had entered, and that with a show of agility -which did them credit. I caught up that wretched stick, rushed after -them in the darkness, and had the satisfaction of giving someone a -pretty smart crack upon the head as he dropped from the sill on to the -pavement below. I am not sure, but I fancy it was the lengthy one. - -Striking a light I looked to see what damage had been done. So far as -I could discover the only thing which was missing was the God of -Fortune, to which they were entirely welcome. Apparently they prized -it more than I did. I had a kind of notion, born of I know not what, -that they had been after the Batters’ papers. If so, they were -disappointed, for I had taken them with me into my bedroom, and at -that moment they were reposing on a chair by my bedside. - -The greater part of the following day I spent in searching for someone -who knew something about Benjamin Batters, or Great Ka Island, or -Arthur Lennard, missionary--without result. I learned what I was -already aware of, that there were numerous missionary societies, both -in England and America; and acquired the additional information that -to try to find out something about a particular missionary without -knowing by which society he had been accredited, resembled the -well-known leading case of the search for the needle in the haystack. -At the great shipping office at which I made inquiries no one knew -anyone who had ever been to Great Ka Island, or ever wanted to go. And -as for Benjamin Batters, the general impression seemed to be that if I -wanted to know anything about him I had better put an advertisement in -the agony column, and see what came of that. - -Altogether, I felt that the day had been pretty well wasted. But as it -would probably have been wasted anyhow, I had the consolation of -knowing that there had not been so much harm done after all. To the -credit side of the account was the fact that I had picked up three or -four odds and ends of curious information which had never come my way -before. And, as luck would have it, shortly after my return I actually -had a client. Or something like one, at any rate. - -Crumper was making ready for departure, when he appeared at the door -with a face on which was an unmistakable grievance. - -“Gentleman wishes to see you, sir. Told him that the office was just -closing.” - -“Did you? Then don’t be so liberal with information of the kind. Show -the gentleman in.” - -Crumper showed him in. When I saw him I was not sure that, in the -colloquial sense, he was a gentleman. And yet I did not know. - -He was a tall, well set-up man of between thirty and forty, distinctly -good-looking, with fair hair and beard, and a pair of the bluest eyes -I ever saw. He wore a blue serge suit, a turn down collar, and a -scarlet tie. I know something of the sea and of sailors, having -several of the latter among my closest friends. If he was not a sailor -I was no judge of the breed. He brought a whiff of sea air into the -room. - -I motioned him to a chair, on which he placed himself as if he was not -altogether at his ease. He glanced at a piece of paper which he had in -his hand. - -“You are Mr. Frank Paine?” I inclined my head. “A lawyer?” - -I nodded again. He pulled at his beard; observing me with his keen -blue eyes, as if he was thinking that for a lawyer I was rather young. - -“I want a lawyer, or rather I want advice which I suppose only a -lawyer can give me. I was speaking about it to George Gardiner, and he -mentioned your name.” - -“I am obliged to George; he is my very good friend. To whom have I the -pleasure of speaking?” - -“I’m Max Lander.” - -“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, as I should any friend of Mr. -Gardiner’s. You, like him, are connected with the sea.” - -“How did you find that out? Do I look as if I were?” - -“Perhaps only to the instructed eye.” I wondered who, with ordinary -perception, could associate him with anything else. “I am so fortunate -as to have many friends among sailors, therefore I am always on the -look-out for one.” - -“That so?” - -He kept trifling with his beard, apparently desirous that the burden -of the conversation should rest with me. - -“You know Mr. Gardiner well?” - -“Not over well.” - -“He was my schoolfellow, with another man who is now also a -sailor--another George; George Kingdon.” - -“What name?” - -“Kingdon. He has lately received his first command; of a ship named -_The Flying Scud_.” - -Mr. Lander ceased to play with his beard. His hands dropped on to his -knees. He sat forward on his chair, staring at me as if I were some -strange animal. - -“Good Lord!” - -He seemed agitated. I had no notion why. Something I had said had -apparently disturbed him. - -“You know Mr. Kingdon?” - -“Kingdon? Kingdon? Is that his name? Then devil take him! No, I don’t -mean that. Perhaps it’s not his fault after all; it’s the fortune of -war. Still--devil take him all the same.” - -“What has Mr. Kingdon done to you, Mr. Lander?” - -“Done!--done!” Apparently his feelings were too strong for words. -Rising from his seat he began to stride about the room. Then, resting -both hands upon the table, he glared at me. “What has Mr. Kingdon done -to me? Did you hear my name?” - -“I understood you to say it was Lander.” - -“That’s it, Lander; Max Lander. Now don’t you know who I am?” - -“It may be my stupidity, but I have not the least idea.” - -“Do you mean to say that you don’t know George Kingdon’s taken my ship -from me?” - -“Taken her from you? I don’t understand. I understood that _The Flying -Scud_ was the property of Messrs. ----” - -“Staple, Wainwright and Friscoe; that’s so. That’s the name and title -of the firm; they’re the owners. But I was in command of her the last -three voyages; and when I brought her home I was hoping it was for the -last time.” - -“It seems that your hope was justified.” - -“Are you laughing at me, Mr. Paine? Because, if you are, take my tip -and don’t. I don’t mind being laughed at in a general way; but this is -a subject on which I bar so much as a smile. I’m too sore, sir, too -sore. Do you know the circumstances under which I got chucked from -_The Flying Scud_?” - -“I do not. May I ask if that is the matter on which you are seeking my -advice?” - -“Well,” he began, pulling at his beard again, hesitating, as if -fearing to say too much. “What I want to know is, are your sympathies -with the owner, with Kingdon, or with me?” - -“Since I know nothing of what you are referring to, what answer do you -expect me to give? So far as I am concerned, you are talking in -riddles.” - -“Look here, Mr. Paine, I’ll make a clean breast of the whole thing. -Gardiner told me you were a decent sort, so I’ll take his word for it. -You see before you the best done man in London--in England--in the -world, for all I know. Done all round! I knew I was taking a certain -risk, but I didn’t know it was a risk in that particular direction, -and that’s where I was had. I saw my way to a real big thing. I went -for it, shoved on all steam; brought the ship home, pretty well empty -as she was; then got diddled. So, when I laid the ship alongside, and -the owners found that there was scarcely enough on board to pay -expenses, they didn’t like it. I got my marching ticket, and Mr. -George Kingdon was in command instead. If it hadn’t been that I’d got -a little money of my own, I should have been on my beam ends before -now.” - -“Do I gather that you complain of the way in which the owners of _The -Flying Scud_ have treated you?” - -“Not a bit of it; nothing of the kind. The only person I complain of -is--we’ll say a party. If I got that, we’ll say, party, alone in a -nice quiet little spot for about ten minutes, after that time I -wouldn’t complain of him. The complaint would be on the other foot.” - -“Then do you wish me to assist you in a scheme of assault and -battery?” - -“I don’t want that either. The fact is, it’s a queer story. You -wouldn’t believe me if I told it; no one has done yet, so I’m not -going to try my luck again with you. What I want to know is this. -Suppose I ship, we’ll say, a man, and that, we’ll say, man, undertakes -to hand over certain--well, articles, to pay for passage, and deposits -certain other articles by way of earnest money. Before the ship -reaches port that, we’ll say, man, vanishes into air, the articles -which were to have been handed over, vanish with him, and the deposit -likewise. What offence has that, we’ll say, man, been guilty of -against the English law?” - -“Your point is a knotty one. Where was the deposit?” - -“In a locker in my cabin.” - -“Secured by lock and key?” - -“Secured by lock and key. And the key was in my pocket.” - -“How was it taken out?” - -“That’s what I want to know.” - -“You are sure it was taken out?” - -“Dead sure.” - -“If you have evidence which will show that the person to whom you -refer made free with the contents of your locker, then I should say -that it was a case of felony. But there may be other points which -would have to be considered. I should have to be placed in possession -of all the facts of the case before I could pronounce an opinion. The -matter may not be so simple as you think.” - -“Simple! I think it simple! Good Lord!” He held up his hands, as if -amazed at the suggestion. “There’s another thing I want to know. -Suppose on the strength of that, we’ll say, man’s promises, I make -promises on my own account to certain members of the crew. Being done -by that, we’ll say, man, I was obliged to do them. What is my -position, Mr. Paine, toward those members of the crew?” - -“That is a question to which I cannot reply off-hand. It would depend -on so many circumstances. I am afraid you will have to tell me the -whole of your story before I can be of use to you.” - -“Ah! That so? I was afraid it would be. I said to myself that you -can’t expect a man, lawyer or no lawyer, to see what’s inside a box -unless you open the lid. But I can’t tell you the story; I can’t. I’m -too sore, sir, too sore. Smarting almost more than I can bear. I’ve -been done out of a fortune, out of my good name, and out of something -I value more than both. That’s a fact. I’ll look round a bit more, and -try to get one of them back, in my own way. Then, if I can’t, perhaps -I’ll come to you again. Sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Paine. What’s -your fee?” - -“For what? I’ve been of no use to you. For a pleasant conversation -with my friend’s friend? I charge no fee for that, Mr. Lander.” - -“You’re a lawyer. A lawyer’s time is money. I’ve always understood -that a lawyer’s fee is six and eightpence. You’ve found me pretty -trying. So I’ll make it a pound if you don’t mind.” - -He laid a sovereign on the table. Without another word he left the -room. I did not try to stop him. To my thinking the whole interview -had verged perilously near to the ridiculous. I took the coin and -locked it in a drawer, proposing, with Gardiner’s assistance, to hunt -up Mr. Lander again. His money should be restored to him, if not in -one form, then in another. - -I would dine the man, and make him tell his funny tale. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - MY CLIENT--AND HER FRIEND. - -The next day I was engaged. On that following I went up to Fenchurch -Street, to the offices of Messrs. Staple, Wainwright and Friscoe. I -had ascertained that Gardiner was out of town, and actuated by motives -of curiosity thought I would learn where Mr. Lander might be found. As -I was going up the steps an old gentleman came down. I knew him pretty -well. His name was Curtis. He had been, and, indeed, for all I knew, -was still an agent of Lloyd’s. For two or three years we had not met. -After we had exchanged greetings, I put to him my question. - -“Do you know a man named Lander, Max Lander?” - -“Late of _The Flying Scud_?” - -An odd expression came on his face, as it were the suggestion of a -grin. - -“That’s the man.” - -“Yes, I know something of Max Lander, Captain Max, as he likes to be -called. Though there’s not much of the captain about him just at -present.” - -The grin came more to the front. - -“He called on me about a matter of which I could make neither head nor -tail. I should like to have another talk with him. Can you tell me -where he’s to be found?” - -Mr. Curtis shook his head. - -“Just now he’s resting. It’s been a little too hot for him of late. I -fancy he’s lying by till it gets a little cooler.” - -“What’s wrong with the man?” - -“Nothing exactly wrong, only he’s had a little experience. Sorry I -can’t stay, this cab’s waiting for me.” He stepped into the hansom -which was drawn up by the kerb. “If you want to know what’s wrong with -Lander, you mention to him the name of Batters--Benjamin Batters.” - -The cab drove off. Before I had recovered from my astonishment it was -beyond recall. - -Batters? Benjamin Batters? My Benjamin Batters? There could hardly be -two persons possessed of that alliterative name. If I had only guessed -that there was any sort of connection between him and Benjamin -Batters, Mr. Lander would not have departed till we had arrived at a -better understanding. Why had the idiot not dropped a hint? Why had -Curtis driven off at that rate at the wrong moment? - -I asked at the office for the address of Captain Max Lander. I was -snubbed. The name was evidently not a popular one in that -establishment. The clerk, having submitted my inquiry to someone -elsewhere, informed me curtly that nothing was known of such a person -there, and appeared to think that I had been guilty of an impertinence -in supposing that anything was. When I followed with a request for -information about a Mr. Benjamin Batters, I believe that clerk thought -I was having a game with him. Somewhere in the question must have been -a sting, with which I was unacquainted; for, with a scowl, he turned -his back on me, not deigning to reply. - -As I did not want to have an argument with Messrs. Staple, Wainwright -and Friscoe’s staff, I went away. I pursued my inquiries elsewhere, -both for Captain Max Lander and for Mr. Benjamin Batters. But without -success. The scent had run to ground. By the evening I concluded that -I had had about enough of the job. Instead of trying to find out -things about Benjamin Batters, I would seek out Mary Blyth. She should -have the good news. I was not sure that I had not already kept them -from her longer than I was justified in doing. She should learn that -she was the proud possessor of a tumble-down, disreputable house in -Camford Street; though, so far as I could see, she had not a shadow of -a title to it which would hold good in law; but perhaps she was not a -person who would allow herself to be hampered by a trifle of that -description; also of a comfortable income derived from -consols--conditions being attached to both bequests which were -calculated to drive her mad. Having imparted that good news, I would -wash my hands of the Batters’ family for good and all. There was -something about it which was, as Gregory Pryor put it, “sniffy.” - -With that design I started betimes the next morning. I had no -difficulty in finding the establishment of Messrs. Cardew and -Slaughter, where Mr. Batters stated in his will that he had last heard -of his niece as an assistant. It was an “emporium,” where they sold -many things you wanted, and more which you did not, from gloves to -fire-irons. After being kept waiting an unconscionable length of time, -asked many uncalled-for questions, and enduring what I felt to be -intentional indignities, I was ushered into the office of Mr. -Slaughter. - -That gentleman was disposed to mete out to me even more high-handed -treatment than Messrs. Staple, Wainwright and Friscoe. Under the -circumstances, however, that was more than I was inclined to submit -to. He seemed to regard it as sheer insolence that a stranger should -venture to speak to him--the great Slaughter!--of such a mere nothing -as one of his assistants. As if I had wanted to! We had quite a -passage of arms. In the midst who should come running in but the girl -herself--Mary Blyth. - -She had just been dismissed. I had come in the nick of time to prevent -her being thrown--literally thrown--into the street. That was a -partial explanation of Mr. Slaughter’s haughtiness. Pretty badly she -seemed to have been used. And very hot she was with a sense of injury. -She had a companion in misfortune; a prettier girl I had never seen. -The pair had been sent packing at a moment’s notice. If I had been a -minute or two later I should have missed them; they would have gone. -In which case the most striking chapter in my life’s history might -have had to be written in a very different fashion. - -When it came to paying the two girls the wretched pittance which was -due to them as wages, an attempt was made to keep back the larger -portion of it under the guise of “fines,” that rascally system by -means of which so many drapers impose upon the helpless men and women -they employ. A few sharp words from me were sufficient to show that -this was an occasion on which that method of roguery could hardly be -safely practised. I judged that the sum paid them--fifteen -shillings--represented their entire fortune. With that capital they -were going out to face the world. - -In the cab I had an opportunity of forming some idea of what my client -was like. - -Mary Blyth was big, rawboned, and, I may add, hungry looking. She gave -me the impression that she had had a hard life, one in which she had -had not seldom to go without enough to eat. In age I set her down as -twenty-six or seven. She was not handsome; on the other hand she was -not repellent. Her features were homely, but they were not unpleasing, -and there was about them more than a suggestion of honesty and -shrewdness. Her experience of the rougher side of life had probably -given her a readiness of wit, and a coolness of head, which would -cause her to find herself but little at a loss in any position in -which a changeable fate would place her. That was how she struck me. I -liked her clear eyes, her pleasant mouth, her determined nose and -chin. Intellectuality might not be her strongest point; obviously, in -a scholastic sense, her educational advantages had been but small. Her -tongue betrayed her. But, unless I greatly erred, she was a woman of -character for all that. Strong, enduring, clear-sighted, within her -limits; sure and by no means slow. A little prone to impatience, -perhaps; it is a common failing. I am impatient myself at times. -Still, on the whole, on her own lines, a good type of an Englishwoman. - -My client’s appearance pleased me better than I feared would have been -the case. I was not so eager to wash my hands of the Batters’ -connection as I had been. - -But it was my client’s friend who appealed most strongly to my -imagination. She took my faculties by storm. I am not easily -disconcerted. Yet, in her presence, I felt ridiculously ill at ease. -She was only a girl. I kept telling myself that she was only a girl. -I believe that it was because she was only a girl that I was conscious -of such curious sensations. She sat opposite me in the cab. Every time -her knee brushed against mine, I felt as if I was turning pink and -green and yellow. It was not only uncomfortable, it was undignified. - -She was just the kind of girl I like to look at; yet, for some reason, -I hardly dared allow my eyes to stray in her direction. I could look -at Miss Blyth; stare at her, indeed, till further notice, in the most -callous, cold-blooded way. But my glances studiously avoided her -friend. Her name was Emily Purvis--the friend’s name, I mean. I had a -general impression that she had big eyes, light brown hair, and a -smile which lit up her face like sunshine. I am aware that this sounds -slightly drivelling; if it were another man I should say that his -language reminded me of a penny novelette. But my mood at the moment -was pronouncedly imbecile; I was only capable of drivel. The girl had -come upon me with such a shock of surprise. I had never expected to -light on anything of that kind when pursuing the niece of Benjamin -Batters. - -Miss Purvis was small. I like small women. I am aware that this is an -age of muscularity, and that athletics do cause women to run to size. -But, for my part, I like them little. Bone, muscle, stamina, these -things are excellent. From a physical point of view, no doubt, the -Amazon, when she is fit, in good condition, is all that she should be. -I admire such a one, even when her height is five feet eleven. But I -do not like her; I never could. As to having a woman of that -description for a wife--the saints forbid! - -Miss Purvis was little. Not a dwarf, nor insignificant in any sense, -but small enough. I am six foot one, and I judged that the top of her -head would just come above my shoulder. Daintily fashioned, curves not -angles. Exactly the kind of girl ninety-nine men out of a hundred -would feel inclined to take into their arms at sight. The hundredth -man would be a sexless idiot; and, also, most probably, stone blind. -It was astonishing how afraid I felt of her. - -It was an odd drive to my chambers. My client talked, Miss Purvis -talked, I only dropped a boobyish remark at intervals. The idea that -such a girl as that should only have fifteen shillings between her and -starvation, and that to keep herself alive she should have to seek -another situation in such a den of roguery, servitude, humiliation, as -that from which she had just escaped, was to me most horrible. I was -irritated, illogically enough, because Benjamin Batters had not left -her a portion of the income which was derived from those bonds of his. -I was conscious of the fact that he had had no cognisance of her -existence. But, at the moment, that was not the point. - -Two incidents marked our progress. - -The first was when Miss Blyth, putting her head out of the cab window, -recognised, with every appearance of surprise, a man standing on the -pavement whom she called Isaac Rudd. I observed that he saw us, and -the keenness with which his gaze was fastened on us. There was a -seafaring air about the fellow which recalled Max Lander to my mind. -Although I said nothing of it to the ladies, I had a shrewd suspicion -that he was following us in another cab, which he had hailed as soon -as we had passed. Two or three times when I looked out I noticed that -a second four-wheeler seemed to be keeping us in sight. In view of my -recent experiences, had I been alone I should have lost no time in -putting the question to the proof. Not only, however, just then, were -my wits a good deal wanting, but I felt a not unnatural disinclination -to cause my companions uneasiness. Especially as I more than suspected -that Miss Blyth might have enough of that a little later on. - -The second incident was a trifle startling. - -Shortly after catching sight of the man she called Isaac Rudd, she -gave a sudden exclamation. She was staring at something with wide-open -eyes. I looked to see what it was. - -There, on her knee, was my God of Fortune. - -Her surprise at its appearance was unmistakably genuine. How it had -come there she was unable to explain. It might have been -“materialised,” as the Theosophists have it, out of the intangible -air. But it seemed that it was not the first time she had encountered -it. - -It had been slipped into her hand the night before by a fantastically -attired individual who was evidently my length without breadth -visitor, whom I had interrupted in his pseudo service, and who had -dropped out of my office window with my God of Fortune in his hand. -Although I made no reference to that occurrence, I was none the less -struck by the fashion in which he had chosen to introduce himself to -the niece of Mr. Benjamin Batters. The singularity of the thing went -further. When the doll was slipped into the lady’s hand it was cased -in a piece of paper, as it was when it was slipped into mine, from, -which, again exactly as had happened with me, it forced itself -apparently of its own volition. - -I made no comment, but, with Miss Blyth’s permission, I put the doll -into my waistcoat pocket; concluding that it might prove worthy of -more minute examination than I had yet bestowed on it--even to the -breaking of it open to discover “the works.” - -This is a sober chronicle. I trust I am a sober chronicler. I wish to -set down nothing which suggests the marvellous. I have an inherent -dislike to wonders, being without faith. When men speak of the -inexplicable I think of trickery, and of some quality which is not -perception. Therefore I desire it to be understood that the following -lines are written without prejudice; and that of what happened there -may be a perfectly simple explanation which escaped my notice. - -I trust that there is. - -I had read the missionary’s letter, and the will, and had handed to -Miss Blyth the sealed enclosure. When she opened it she found that -within the packet was a little wooden box. On lifting the lid of this -box, the first thing she saw--which we all saw--was my God of Fortune, -or its double. It was just inside the box, staring at her, as it lay -face upwards. Feeling in my waistcoat pocket for the duplicate, I -found that it had gone. It had, apparently, passed into that wooden -box, which had, until that moment, remained inviolate within that -sealed enclosure. How, I do not pretend to say. - -It was but a little thing, yet it affected me more than a greater -might have done. A succession of “trifles light as air” may unsettle -the best balanced mind. One begins, by degrees, to have a feeling that -something is taking place, or is about to take place, of a character -to which one is unaccustomed. And under such circumstances the -unaccustomed, particularly when one is unable to even dimly apprehend -the form which it may take, one instinctively resents. - -I decided that, at any rate, that should be the last appearance of the -God of Fortune. Taking it from Miss Blyth, who yielded it readily -enough, I walked with it to the fire, intending to make an end of it -by burning. As I went something pricked my fingers so suddenly, and so -sharply, that in my surprise and, I might add, pain, the doll dropped -from my hand. When we came to look for it it was not to be found. We -searched under tables and chairs in all possible and impossible -places, with a degree of eagerness which approached the ludicrous, -without success. The God of Fortune had disappeared. - -I am reluctant to confess how much I was disconcerted by so trivial an -occurrence. - -I must have been morbidly disposed; still liverish. That is the only -explanation which I can offer why I should all at once have felt so -strongly that everything connected with Mr. Benjamin Batters’ -testamentary dispositions wore a malign aspect. I was even -haunted--the word is used advisedly--by a wholly unreasonable -conviction that Miss Blyth was being dragged into a position of -imminent peril. - -This foolishness of mine was rendered more ridiculous by the fact that -Miss Blyth’s own mood was all the other way. And in this respect Miss -Purvis was at one with her. Somewhat to my surprise they seemed to see -nothing in the situation but what was pleasant. - -Miss Blyth’s attitude was one of frank delight. She had never known -Mr. Batters’ personally; all she knew of him was to the disadvantage -of his character. She was enraptured by the prospect of a fortune and -a house. It seemed she had a lover. In her mind, fortune, house, and -lover were associated in a delightful jumble. She did not appear to -realise that the acceptance of the fortune, if the attached conditions -were to stand, meant the practical ostracising of the lover. Nor, at -the instant, did I feel called upon to go out of the way to make the -whole position plain to her understanding. It would have meant the -spoiling of the happiest hour she had known. - -Miss Purvis enjoyed what she regarded as her friend’s good luck to the -full as much as if it had been her own. It was delightful to see her. -I had plucked up courage enough to observe her so long as she did not -know that I was doing so. The moment she became conscious of my -scrutiny, my eyes, metaphorically, sank into my boots; actually they -wandered round the room, as if the apartment had been strange to me. -When she proposed to become Miss Blyth’s companion in that horrible -house in Camford Street my heart thumped against my ribs in such a -manner that I became positively ashamed. - -Was I a lawyer, the mere mechanical exponent of an accidental -situation, or was I the intimate of a lifetime? I had to ask myself -the question. What right had I to throw obstacles in the way, to -prevent her doing her friend a service? What right had I to even hint -that she might be running a risk in doing her that service? My fears -might be--were--purely imaginary. So far they certainly had no -foundation in fact. They resembled nothing so much as the nervous -fancies of some timorous old woman. It might be ruinous to my -professional reputation to breathe a syllable which would point to -their existence. People do not want shivery-shakery fools for lawyers. -These two young women knew as much--and as little--about the house as -I did. If they chose to live in it, let them. It was their affair, not -mine. They plainly regarded the prospective tenancy as an excellent -jest. I tried to persuade myself that I had no doubt whatever that -that was just what they would find it. - -So they entered into the occupation of No. 84 Camford Street. I went -with them and saw them enter. It was a curious process, that of entry; -an unreasonably, unnaturally curious process. It should be necessary -to enter no honest house like that. The first step suggested, -possibly, that something unsavoury was concealed within, which it was -necessary, at all and any cost, to keep hidden from the light of day. - -When they were in, and the door was closed, and they had gone from -sight, an icy finger seemed to be pressed against my spine. I shivered -as with cold. An almost irresistible longing possessed me to batter at -the door and compel them to come out. But I had not sufficient courage -to write myself down an ass. - -Instead, I rode home in the cab which had brought us to the house to -which I had taken so cordial a disrelish, oppressed by a sense of -horrible foreboding which weighed upon my brain nearly to the point of -stupefaction. - -“Before I go to bed to-night,” I told myself, “I’ll take a dozen of -somebody or other’s antibilious pills. I had no idea I was so -liverish.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - THE AGITATION OF MISS PURVIS. - -That bachelor’s balm, a night at a music hall, was of no avail in -diverting my mind from the house in Camford Street. In the body I -might be present at a vocal rendering of the latest things in comic -songs; in the spirit I was the other side of the water. Before the -night was over I was there physically, too. - -As the ten o’clock “turn” was coming on, and the brilliancy of the -entertainment was supposed to have reached high-water mark, I walked -down the stairs of the Cerulean and out into the street. I strolled -down the Haymarket without any clear idea of where I meant to go. - -“You’re an ass,” I told myself. “An ass, sir! If you’d stopped to see -Pollie Floyd she’d have driven the cobwebs out of your head. You pay -five shillings for a seat, and when, at last, there is going to be -something worth looking at, and listening to, you get out of it, and -throw away your money. At this time of night, where do you think -you’re going?” - -I knew all the time, although even to myself I did not choose to -confess it--Camford Street. I made for it as straight as I could. It -was past half-past ten when I got there. The street was nearly all in -darkness. The public-houses were open; but, as they were not of the -resplendent order, they were of but little use as illuminants. Mr. -Kennard’s establishment was shut. Lights were visible in but few of -the houses. No. 84, in the prevailing shadows, looked black as pitch. -If the two girls had been obedient to the injunctions laid down in Mr. -Batters’ will--and that first night, at any rate, they would have -hardly ventured to contravene them--they were long since within doors. -Doing what? Asleep? Were both of them asleep? I wondered, if she was -awake, what occupied her thoughts? Was she thinking of--the person in -the street? - -Too ridiculous! Absurd! It is amazing of what crass stupidity even the -wisest men are capable. Why should a girl who was a perfect stranger, -be thinking, whether awake or sleeping, at that hour of the night, of -an individual who had been brought into accidental business -association, on one occasion only, with a friend of hers? I kept on -putting such-like brain-splitting questions to myself. Without avail. -I simply shirked them. I only hoped. That was all. - -I had some nonsensical notion of hammering at the front door to see -what would happen. But as I was unable to perceive what could result, -except possible scandal--suppose they were in bed! they might think I -was burglars, or Mr. Batters’ ghost--I held my hand. I was not too far -gone to be incapable of realising that frightening a woman into fits -was not the best way of winning her trust and confidence. That she was -of a nervous temperament I thought probable. I like a woman to be -reasonably timorous. - -What might have been expected happened. My persistency in strolling -about, and behaving as if I were a suspicious character, at last -succeeded in arousing the attention of the police. An overcoated -constable strode up to me. I stopped him, feeling that it might be -better for me to open the ball. - -“Officer, do you know anything about the house opposite--No. 84?” - -He eyed me; apparently arriving at a conclusion that I bore no -conspicuous signs of belonging to the criminal classes. - -“We call it the haunted house.” - -“Haunted? Why haunted?” - -It was a horrible idea that she should be sleeping alone, or as good -as alone, in a house which bore the reputation of being haunted. Not -that I placed any credence in such rubbish myself, but when she was -concerned it was a different matter. - -“I can’t say why; but it’s known as such, in the force, and, I -believe, among the people in the neighbourhood.” - -“Ah! Well, officer, two friends of mine--ladies--young ladies--have -taken up their residence at No. 84, and as they’re all alone I shall -be obliged if you’ll keep an eye upon the house. If you see any ghosts -about the place you run ’em in.” - -I gave that policeman half-a-crown. I do not know what he thought of -me. I was completely conscious that if I continued to placate members -of the constabulary force with two-and-sixpence each I should not find -the Batters’ connection a lucrative one. It was all owing to the state -of mind I was in. To have remained in her immediate neighbourhood I -would have showered half-crowns. - -Yet I tore myself away, and went straight home to bed. Hardly to -sleep, for such slumber as visited my eyes was troubled by strange -imaginings. It would be incorrect to say that all night I dreamed of -her, for most of my dreams took the shape of nightmare visitations; -but I do not hesitate to affirm that they were caused by her. I had -not been troubled by such things for years. If she was not the cause -of them, what was? - -I awoke at some most unseemly hour. Since sleep was evidently at an -end I concluded that it might be as well to have done with what had -been, for the first time for many nights, a bed of discomfort. So I -arose and dressed. It was a fine morning. I could see that the sun was -shining, even from my window. I concluded that I would put into -execution a resolution which I had often formed, and as often broken, -of going for a walk before breakfast. One is constantly being -told--for the most part by people who know nothing about it--how -beautiful London is in the early morning sun. - -So soon as I was in Fleet Street I saw something which I had certainly -not expected to see, at least, not there, just then--Miss Purvis. -Fleet Street was deserted; she was the only living thing to be seen; -the sight of her nearly took me off my feet. She had been in my -thoughts. Her sudden, instant presence was like the miraculous -materialisation of some telepathic vision. I felt as if I had heard -her calling me, and had come. - -She was distant some fifty yards, and was coming towards me. I was at -once struck by the air of wildness which was about her. It moved me -strangely. She was not attired for the street, having on neither hat -nor bonnet, jacket or gloves. Her hair was in disorder. She looked as -if she had been in some singular affray. My heart jumped so within my -breast that I had, perforce, to stand as if I had been rooted to the -ground. Conscience-stricken, I railed at myself for not having, last -night, broken down the door, instead of lounging idly in the street. -All the while, I knew that there was something wrong. I owned it now, -though I had been reluctant to admit it then. - -I think she saw me as soon as I saw her. At sight of me she broke into -a little tremulous run, swaying from side to side, as if she was so -weak that her feet were not entirely under her own control. It was -pitiful to watch. Tearing myself from where I seemed to be rooted, I -ran to her. I had reached her in less than half-a-dozen seconds. When -I was close, stretching out her hands, she cried, in a faint little -voice:-- - -“It’s you! it’s you! Oh, Mr. Paine!” - -She did not throw herself into my arms, she had not so much strength; -she sank into them, and was still. I saw that she had fainted. - -I bore her to my rooms. It was the least that I could do. No one was -in sight. And though, no doubt, some straggler might have soon -appeared, I could not tell what kind of person it might prove to be. -I could hardly keep her out there in the street awaiting the advent of -some quite possibly undesirable stranger, even had I been willing, -which I was not. Lifting her in my arms, I carried her to my chambers. - -Not once did she move. She was limp as some lay figure. I laid her on -the couch. So far as I could judge, at first she did not breathe. -Then, all at once, she sighed; a tremblement seemed to go all over -her. I expected her to open her eyes, and see me there. I felt as if I -had been guilty of I knew not what, and feared to meet her accusatory -glances. But instead she lay quite still, though I could see that her -bosom rose and fell, moved by gentle respirations. My blood boiled as -I wondered what could have made her cheek so white. - -On a sudden her eyes unclosed. For some seconds she looked neither to -the right nor left. She seemed to be considering the ceiling. Then, -with a start, she turned and saw me. - -“Where am I?” she exclaimed. - -“You are safe in my chambers. You know who I am, do you not?” - -“You are Mr. Paine. Oh, Mr. Paine!” - -She began to cry. Turning from me, she buried her face in the cushion. - -“Miss Purvis! What is wrong? What is the matter? Tell me what has -happened.” - -She continued to cry, her sobs shaking her whole frame. I was -beginning to be conscious that the situation was a more delicate one -than had at first appeared. After all, the girl was but a stranger to -me. I had not the slightest right to attempt to offer her consolation. -I remembered to have read somewhere that you ought to know a man -intimately for fifteen years before presuming to poke his fire. If -that were the case the imagination failed to picture how long a man -ought to be acquainted with a girl before venturing to try, with the -aid of a pocket handkerchief, to dry her tears. - -She kept on crying. It was a severe trial to one’s more or less misty -sense of what etiquette demanded. Ought I to remain to be a witness of -her tears? She might not like it. She might, very reasonably, resent -being practically compelled to exhibit her grief in the presence of a -stranger. On the other hand, to leave her alone to, as it were, cry it -out, might be regarded, from certain points of view, as the acme of -brutality. What I should have liked to have done would have been to -take her in my arms, and comfort her as if she had been a child. In -the midst of my bewilderment it irritated me to think of the asinine -notions which would enter my head. Did I, I inquired of myself, wish -to make an enemy, a righteous enemy, of the girl for life? - -I tried the effect of another inquiry. - -“Miss Purvis, I--I wish you would tell me what has happened.” - -“Pollie!” - -That was all she said; and that utterance was so blurred by a choking -gasp as to render it uncertain if that was what she had said. - -“Pollie? Who is Pollie?” - -Quite possibly my tone was one of dubiety. Either that or the question -itself affected her in a fashion which surprised me. She stopped as -suddenly as if the fountain of her tears had been worked by some -automatic attachment. Raising herself slightly from the couch, she -looked at me, her eyes swollen with weeping. - -“Pollie? You ask me who is Pollie? And you’re her lawyer!” - -“Her lawyer?--Pollie’s----? You’re not referring to Miss----? Of -course, how stupid of me! I had forgotten that Miss Blyth’s Christian -name was Mary. I suppose that by her friends she is known as Pollie. I -hope that nothing has happened to Miss Blyth.” - -“Do you think that I should be here if nothing had happened to -Pollie?” - -The question was put with an amount of vigour which, in one so -fragile, was almost surprising. I was delighted to see in her such a -renewal of vigour. It made me feel more at my ease. - -“I am only too fortunate, Miss Purvis, whatever the object of your -visit. If you will permit me I will get you a cup of tea; that’s what -you’re wanting. I live so much alone I’m accustomed to do all sorts of -things for myself. Here’s a gas stove; in five minutes the water will -be boiling; you shall have your tea. It will do you an immensity of -good.” - -I had always understood that girls liked tea. But, as I moved about -the room, preparing to set the kettle on the stove, she stared at me -with an apparent want of comprehension. - -“Do you suppose that I’ve come through the streets like this just to -get a cup of tea?” - -“Never mind for the moment why you’ve come, Miss Purvis; the great -thing is that you have come. Tea first: explanation afterwards. If you -take my advice you’ll let that be the order of procedure. Nothing like -a good brew to promote clarity of exposition.” - -I lit the stove. - -“Mr. Paine! Mr. Paine!” - -She jumped off the couch in quite a passion of excitement. - -“Now, Miss Purvis, I do beg you will control yourself. I give you my -word that in less than five minutes the water will be boiling.” - -She stamped her foot; rage certainly became her. - -“You keep talking about your tea, when Pollie’s killed!” - -“Killed--Miss Purvis! You don’t mean that Miss Blyth is--killed?” - -“She is!--or something awful--and worse!” - -“But”--I placed the kettle on the stove to free my hand--“let me -understand you plainly. Do you wish to be taken literally when you say -that Miss Blyth is--killed?” - -“If she isn’t she will be soon.” - -“I’m afraid I must ask you to be a little plainer. Where is Miss -Blyth?” - -“She’s in one of Bluebeard’s Chambers?” - -I began to wonder if her mind was wandering. - -“I’m afraid that I still don’t----” - -“That’s the name she gave them. In that dreadful house in Camford -Street there are two rooms locked up, and Pollie’s in one.” - -“I see.” I did not, though, at the same time, I fancied that I began -to perceive a dim glimmer of light. “But if, as you say, the rooms -were locked, how did she get in, and what happened to her when she was -in?” - -In reply Miss Purvis poured out a series of disjointed statements -which I experienced some difficulty in following, and more in -reconciling. As I listened, in spite of her manifold attractions, I -could not but feel that if she should figure in the witness box, in a -case in which I was concerned, I would rather that she gave evidence -for the other side. - -“That house was full of wickedness!” - -“Indeed. In what sense?” - -“There’s a woman in it!” - -“A woman? There is a woman? Then that’s all right.” - -“All right?” - -“I was afraid there wouldn’t be another woman.” - -“Afraid! Women are ever so much worse than men. And she’s--awful. She -says she’s the daughter of the gods.” - -“A little wanting, perhaps.” - -I touched my head. Apparently Miss Purvis did not catch the allusion. - -“Wanting! She’s wanting in everything she ought to have. She’s--she’s -not to be described. I thought she was rats.” - -“You thought she was rats?” - -“The house is full of them--in swarms! They’d have eaten me--picked -the flesh off my bones!--if I’d given them the chance.” - -I was becoming more and more persuaded that agitation had been too -much for her. I had never encountered a case of a person being eaten -alive by rats, except the leading one of Bishop Hatto in his rat tower -on the Rhine, and that was scarcely quotable. - -“Now, Miss Purvis, the kettle is just on the boil. I do beg you’ll -have a cup of tea before we go any further.” - -“With Pollie lying dead?” - -“But is she lying dead?” - -“I believe she’s eaten!” - -“Eaten?--by rats?” - -There was a dryness in my tone which was, perhaps, rather more -significant than I had intended. - -“Are you laughing at me?--Are you--laughing at me?” - -She repeated her inquiry for the second time with a great sob in her -voice, which made me realise what a brute I was. - -“I am very far from laughing. I am only anxious that you should not -make yourself ill.” - -“You’re not! you’re not!” She stamped her foot again. I gazed at her -with admiration. She was the first beautiful woman I remembered to -have seen whose personal appearance was positively improved by getting -into a temper. - -“You’re laughing at me all the time; you haven’t a spark of human -feeling in you!” This was an outrageous charge. At that moment I would -have given a great part of what I possessed to have been able to take -her in my arms. “What I’ve endured this night no tongue can tell, no -pen describe. I’ve gone through enough to make my hair turn white. -Hasn’t it turned white?” - -“It certainly hasn’t. It’s lovely hair.” - -“Lovely----?” She stopped, to look at me; seeing something in my -countenance--she alone knew what it was--which made her put her hands -up to her face, and burst again into tears. “Oh, Mr. Paine!” - -My name, as it came from her lips, was a wail which cut me to the -heart. Her agitation was making me agitated too. I had only one -resource. - -“Now, Miss Purvis, this kettle is really boiling.” - -“If you say another word about that kettle I’ll knock it over!” - -The small virago was facing me, the tears running down her cheeks, her -small fists clenched, as if, on that point at least, she was capable -of being as good as her word. - -“Knock it over by all means, Miss Purvis, if it pleases you. I--I only -want to give you pleasure.” - -“Mr. Paine!” - -Up went her hands again. - -“Don’t do that. I--I can’t bear to see you cry.” - -“Then why are you so unkind?” - -“I don’t know; it’s my stupidity, I suppose; it’s far from my -intention to be unkind.” - -“I know! I know! I’m a nothing and a nobody; an impertinent creature -who has come to bother you with a tale which you don’t believe, and -which wouldn’t interest you if you did; and so you just make fun of -me.” - -“Don’t say that; not that. Don’t say that to me you are a nothing and -a nobody.” - -“I am! I am!” - -“You are not.” - -“Then, why do you treat me as you do?” - -“Treat you! How do I treat you? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for -you--nothing!” - -“Mr. Paine!” - -“Miss Purvis!” - -I do not know how it happened. I protest, in cold blood, and in black -and white, that I have no idea. But, on a sudden, I found that I had -my arms about her. A moment before I had no intention of doing -anything of the kind--that I swear. And I can only suppose that it was -because, in her agitation, she really did not know what was happening, -that she allowed her head to rest against my breast. - -It was while it was there that a voice said, proceeding from the -neighbourhood of the door:-- - -“This is a bit of all right; but where do I come in?” - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - LUKE. - -I have only to point out that, despite the interruption, Miss Purvis -continued in the same position, without making the slightest effort to -disengage herself, to make it clear that she, to at least a certain -extent, was unconscious of her surroundings. For my part I held her -somewhat closer, so that I might act as a more efficient protection -against I knew not what. - -Glancing in the direction from which the voice had come I perceived -that a distinctly disreputable individual had intruded himself, -uninvited, into the room. He was a tall, shambling fellow, with a -chronic stoop, extending even to the neighbourhood of his knees. His -attire consisted of a variety of odds and ends, all of them -emphatically the worse for wear. A dirty cloth cap, apparently a size -too small, was stuck at the back of his head. His black, greasy hair -formed a ragged, uneven fringe upon his forehead, reaching in one -place nearly to the top of his long, pointed nose. His mouth was too -wide for his face, which was narrow. As he stood there with it open, -in what I presume he intended for a friendly grin, the fact was -revealed that seemingly every alternate tooth in his head was missing. -Even in that moment of agitation I could not help mentally noting that -I had never seen such a collection of fangs in one man’s head before. - -“What do you mean, sir, coming in without knocking?” - -“What do I mean? That’s what I’m here to tell you. And as for -knocking, I did knock, with my knuckles; but you was too much engaged -to notice my modest knock; so, seeing the door was open, I just come -in.” - -“Then you’ll just go out again; and sharp’s the word.” - -While the fellow was speaking, Miss Purvis, awaking, for the first -time, to a sense of her delicate position, drew herself away from me. -Turning, she stared at the intruder. - -“Sharp’s the word, is it? That’s how it may be. Anyhow, it don’t apply -to me, because I’m here on business.” - -“Then come in business hours. I don’t receive clients at this time of -day. Don’t you see that I’m engaged?” - -“Engaged, are you? That’s as it should be. I congratulate you. -Likewise the young lady, for having won so outspoken a young -gentleman; and one that’s well spoken of, from all I hear.” - -Whether the fellow was intentionally impertinent I could not tell. It -was uncommonly awkward for both of us. Miss Purvis went scarlet. I -felt like knocking him down. - -“Now, then, out you go!” - -“Softly! softly! You listen to me before the band begins to play. I -don’t allow no one to lay hands on me without laying of ’em back -again.” - -The fellow extended, to ward me off, a pair of enormously long arms. -Observing them, I realised that if he would only hold himself upright -his height would be gigantic. I am no bantam; yet as I considered his -evident suppleness, and sinewy build, I thought it possible that in -him I had met my match. Anyhow, I did not wish to indulge in a -rough-and-tumble before Miss Purvis. - -“Who are you? And what do you want?” - -“What I want first of all is to know who you are. Are you Mr. Frank -Paine?” - -“I am.” - -“I’m told that you’re making inquiries about a party named Batters; -now I’m making inquiries about a party named Batters, too; and if you -was to tell me what you know, I might tell you what I know.” - -“You are quite right, I have been inquiring for a person of the name -of Batters. And if you will come again, say, between ten and eleven, I -shall be glad to hear what you have to say. By that time I shall be -disengaged.” - -“You’ll be disengaged, will you? That’s hard on the young lady. -Engaged to her at seven, and disengaged between ten and eleven, all of -the same day.” - -“Look here, my man!” - -“I’m looking, Mr. Paine, I’m looking; and I do hope I’m looking milder -nor what you are. May I make so bold as to ask if this young lady’s -name is Blyth?” - -“It is not.” - -“I thought it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t hardly seem natural for a -beautiful young lady like she is to be grafted from a stock like that. -Lovely is what I call her, downright lovely.” - -“Oh, Mr. Paine!” - -Miss Purvis held out her hand. I took it. - -“If you suppose because I have borne with you so far I will bear with -you much further, you’re mistaken. If you take my advice, you’ll be -careful.” - -“That’s right, sir; that’s quite right. Careful’s the lay for me.” - -“If you have anything to say, be quick about it.” - -“Well, I do happen to have something which I wish to say, and that’s a -fact; but as for quickness I’m afraid that I’m not naturally so quick -as perhaps you might desire.” He stopped, to regard me with his bold, -yet shifty eyes, as if he were endeavouring to ascertain what sort of -person I might be. When he spoke again it was to put a question for -which I was unprepared. “Where’s Batters?” - -“Mr. Batters--if you are referring to the late Mr. Benjamin -Batters--is dead.” - -“Dead? Oh! Late, is he? Ah! He was the sort to die early, was Batters. -Where might he happen to have died?” - -“On Great Ka Island.” - -“Great Ka Island? Ah! And where might that be?” - -“On the other side of the world.” - -“That’s some way off, isn’t it? Most unfortunate. I take it most -uncivil of Batters to go and die in a place like that. Especially when -I should like to have a look at his grave. You don’t happen to know -where it is.” - -“I do not, except that I have been given to understand that he was -buried where he died.” - -“That so? He would be. In the local cemetery, with the flowers growing -all around. In a nice deep grave with a stone on top to keep him from -getting out of it, and some words cut on it, like ‘He lies in peace.’ -There’s no doubt about his lying, anyhow, I’ll take my oath to that.” -He emitted a sound which might have been meant for a chuckle. It -startled Miss Purvis. “You don’t happen to know when he died?” - -“I do not know the precise date, but it was at any rate some three or -four months ago.” - -“That’s odd, very. Because, as it happens, I was with him some three -or four months ago, and I never saw nothing about him that looked like -dying. So far from dying, he was lively, uncommon; fleas wasn’t in it -with the liveliness of Batters. And to think that he should have died -with me looking at him all the time, and yet knowing nothing at all -about it. It shows you that there is such things as miracles.” - -“Do I understand you to say that three months ago you were in the -company of Mr. Batters?” - -“I was. And likewise four months ago. And I hope to be in his company -again before long, dead or alive. It won’t be my fault if I’m not; you -may go the lot on that.” - -There was something about the fellow which struck me as peculiar; it -was not alone his impudence, which belonged to another sort of -singularity. There seemed to be a covert meaning in his manner and his -words. I turned to Miss Purvis. - -“If you don’t mind I think I will hear what this person has to say; it -may be of importance to your friend. If you will allow me to leave you -here, I think I may arrive quicker at his meaning if I am alone with -him.” - -She signified her consent. I led the way into the office. Without -showing in any way that he objected, the stranger followed. - -“Now my man, let us understand each other as clearly as we can, and -keep to the point as closely as you are able. What’s your name?” - -“Luke.” - -“Luke what?” - -“Luke nothing. I’m known to those who knew me best as St. Luke, after -the apostle, being of saintlike character, but in general Luke’s name -enough for me. They was modest where I come from.” - -“What are you?” - -“A sailor man, late of the good ship _Flying Scud_.” - -“_The Flying Scud_?” I stared at him askance, not certain that I had -caught the name correctly. That particular ship seemed in the air. -“Then do you know Captain Lander?” - -As I asked the question his manner changed. It became suspicious. -Thrusting his thumbs into his waistcoat armholes he eyed me warily, as -if he had all at once been put upon his guard. - -“Now how much do you know about it?” - -“What do you mean? How much do I know about what?” - -“What’s Captain Lander told you about me?” - -“About you? To me Captain Lander has never so much as mentioned your -name.” - -A sudden wild thought came into my head. “Are you--are you Benjamin -Batters?” - -The fellow’s mouth opened so wide I could see right down his throat. - -“Me Benjamin Batters! Good Lord! What made you ask me such a thing as -that?” - -“Are you? Are you?” As I watched I doubted more and more. “I believe -you are.” - -“I’m not. Good Lord! You ask Captain Lander if I am. You said yourself -just now that he was dead and buried.” - -“And you hinted that he was not, but that he was still alive.” - -Putting his hand up to his brow he brushed the fringe of hair -partially aside, glancing furtively about the room. - -“That’s as may be; that’s another matter altogether. But I don’t like -your asking me if I was Batters. No man would. Have you ever seen -him?” - -“Never; unless I see him now.” - -“Meaning me? I never came across such a man. What do you mean by -keeping on asking if I’m Batters? What are you driving at? I won’t -have it, whatever it is. Why Batters----” He stopped: then second -thoughts appearing best, changed from heat to cold. “Batters was not -my sort at all.” - -The man’s manner puzzled me. - -“What was there about Benjamin Batters which makes you resent any -comparison with him?” - -He hesitated, putting up his fingers to scratch his head, visibly -perturbed. - -“Excuse me, but I came here to put a question or two, not to answer -any. If you’d told me at the first that Captain Lander was a friend of -yours, I should have taken myself off straightway, like as I’m going -to now.” - -I stepped between him and the door. - -“No you don’t. You stopped at the beginning to please yourself; now -you’ll remain a little longer to please me. Before you leave this room -you’ll give me satisfactory answers to one or two questions.” - -“Who says I will?” - -“I do. If you decline I send for a policeman. Then I think you’ll find -yourself in Queer Street.” - -His disturbance obviously increased. - -“Now, Mr. Paine, I’ve done nothing to you to make you behave nasty to -me. If I made a mistake in coming here to make a few inquiries I -apologise, and no man can do more than that, so there’s no harm done -to either side.” - -“Was Batters your shipmate?” - -“My shipmate?” - -“Was he an officer or member of the crew on board _The Flying Scud_?” - -“My gracious, no!” - -“He was on _The Flying Scud_?” - -“He might have been.” - -“As passenger?” - -“_The Flying Scud’s_ a cargo boat; she don’t carry no passengers.” - -“If he was neither officer, sailor, nor passenger, in what capacity -was he there?” - -“You ask Captain Lander, he was in command, not me. I’ve had enough of -this bullyragging. You let me go before there’s trouble.” - -“Gently, my man, gently! Now, come, be frank with me. What is the -mystery about Benjamin Batters? I see there is one.” - -“That’s more than I can tell you, straight it is. I wish it wasn’t. If -you was to ask me I should say he was all mystery, Batters was.” - -“I suppose he was a man?” - -“A man?” The inquiry, suggested by the fashion in which he persisted -in shuffling with my questions, had an odd effect upon my visitor. He -glanced from side to side, and up and down, as if desirous, at any -cost, to avoid meeting my eye. “It depends on what you call a man.” - -“You know very well what I call a man. Was he a man in the sense that -you and I are men?” - -He shuddered. - -“The Lord forbid that I should be in any way like him; the Lord -forbid!” - -“I observed him narrowly, at a loss to make him out. That there was -something very curious about Benjamin Batters I was becoming more and -more persuaded. I had as little doubt that my visitor had at least -some knowledge of what it was. Equally obvious, however, was the fact -that he had reasons of his own for concealing what he knew. How I -could compel him to make a confidant of me against his will I failed -to see. I tried another tack. - -“You say that you were in Batters’ company three months ago.” - -“I might have been.” - -“How long ago is it since you last saw him?” - -“I couldn’t exactly say.” - -“Where did you last see him?” - -“Where?” He looked round and round the room, as if seeking for -information. Then the fashion of his countenance changed, an ugly look -came on it. “I’m not going to tell you when I saw him last, nor where. -It’s no business of yours. You mind your own business, and leave mine -alone. And as for your policeman, I don’t care for no policeman. Why -should I? I’m an honest man. So you get out of my way and let me pass; -and that’s all about it.” - -“Have you seen Benjamin Batters within the month?” - -“Never you mind!” - -“Your words are a sufficient answer. I believe that you have been -conspiring with Benjamin Batters with fraudulent intent. If you do not -furnish me with abundant proof that my suspicions are unfounded I -shall summon a constable, and give you into custody upon that charge.” - -It was a piece of pure bluff upon my part, which failed. - -“That’s the time of the day, is it? I’ve been conspiring with him, -have I? What have I been conspiring about?” - -“I have no doubt that that is a point on which Captain Lander will be -able to show more than sufficient light.” - -My words had at last struck home. What lent them especial weight I -could not even guess. But that they had moved him more than anything -which had gone before his behaviour showed. - -“He will, will he? So that’s the game you’re after. You’re a lawyer, -and I’m a poor, silly sailor man, so you think you can play just what -tricks with me you please. But there’s something else Captain Lander -can tell you if you ask him, and that’s that I can be disagreeable -when I’m crossed, and if you don’t move away from that door inside a -brace of shakes I’m going to be disagreeable now.” - -“Don’t threaten me, my man.” - -“Threaten?” - -His tone suggested that he scorned being thought capable of -threatening only, and his action proved it. - -He came at me with a suddenness for which I was unprepared. Putting -his arms about me while I was still unready he lifted me off my feet. -As he was still holding me aloft, crooking my leg inside his, I bore -on him with all my might, and brought him with a crash to the floor. -Although he lay underneath, his arms still retained their grip. - -While I hesitated whether to attack the man in earnest or to -remonstrate with him instead--for Miss Purvis might at any moment look -in, and then a nice opinion she would have of me--someone standing -behind slipped what seemed to be a cord over my head, and drew it so -tight about my throat that in an instant I was all but choked. When, -gasping for breath, I put up my hand to free myself, it was drawn -still tighter. So tight indeed that not only did it cut like a knife, -but I felt as if my tongue was being torn out of my mouth, and I lost -all consciousness. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - THE TRIO RETURN. - -How long I remained unconscious I could not say. When I did come to, -during some seconds I was unable to realise my position. It was like -waking out of an uncomfortably heavy sleep. Consciousness returned by -degrees, and painfully; as it were, by a series of waves, which were -like so many shocks. I was oppressed by nausea, my eyes were dim, my -brain seemed reeling, as if it were making disconcerting efforts to -retain its equilibrium. It was some time before I understood that I -was still in my own room; yet, longer before I had some faint -comprehension of the situation I was in, and of what was taking place -about me. - -It was probably some minutes before I completely understood that I was -trussed like a fowl, and that the exquisite pain which I was enduring -was because of the tightness and ingenuity of my bonds. I was on the -floor with my back against the wall. Cords which were about my wrists -were attached to my ankles, passed up my back, then round my throat, -so that each movement I made I bade fair to choke myself. It was a -diabolical contrivance. The cords were thin ones--red-hot wires they -seemed to me to be, they cut my wrists like knives, and burned them as -with fire. My legs were drawn under my body in an unnatural and -uncomfortable position. They were torn by cramp, yet whenever I made -the slightest attempt to ease them I dragged at the cord which was -about my throat. One thing seemed plain, if the worst came to the -worst I should experience no difficulty in committing suicide. -Apparently I had only to let my head forward to be strangled. - -By way of making the condition of affairs entirely satisfactory -something sharp had been forced into my mouth, which not only acted as -a gag, effectually preventing my uttering a sound, but which made it -difficult for me to breathe. That it was cutting me was made plain by -the blood which I was compelled to swallow. - -As I have said, it was not at first that I had a clear perception of -the personal plight that I was in. When it dawned on me at last I had -a morbid satisfaction in learning that I was not alone in it. Someone -so close on the left as to be almost touching me was in a similar -plight. It was St. Luke. I had mistily imagined that that seafaring -associate of the more and more mysterious Benjamin Batters had been in -some way responsible for my misadventure. Not a bit of it. I had -wronged the honest man. So far as I could perceive, his plight was an -exact reproduction of my own. The same attention had been paid to his -physical comfort; only apparently the gag had been so placed in his -mouth as to leave him more freedom to gasp, and to grunt, and to -groan. - -Who, then, was responsible for this pretty performance? What man, or -men, had I so wronged as to be deserving this return? The problem was -a nice one. I looked for the solution. - -I found it, and, in doing so, found also something else, which filled -me with such a tumult of passion that I actually momentarily forgot -the egregious position I was in. - -Miss Purvis had been served as I had been. - -She had either, wondering at my delay, or startled by the noise, -peeped into the office, and so disturbed the ruffians at their work; -or the miscreants, penetrating into the inner room, had found her -there and dragged her out. However it had been, there she was, trussed -and gagged against the wall upon my right. They had shown no respect -for a woman, but had handled her precisely as they had done St. Luke -and me. My brain felt as if it would have burst as I thought of the -indignity with which they must have used her, and of the agony, mental -and bodily, she must have endured, and be enduring still. Her -face--her pretty face!--was white as the sheet of paper on which I -write. Her eyes--her lovely eyes!--were closed. I hoped that she had -fainted, and so was oblivious of suffering and shame. Yet, as I -watched her utter stillness, I half feared she might be dead. - -The gentlemen who were responsible for this pleasant piece of work -were three. They were there before me in plain sight. It was with an -odd sense that it was just what I had expected that I recognised the -trio who had already paid me a visit in the silent watches of the -night. There was the imposing, elderly, bald-headed gentleman, who -represented length without breadth; there, also, were his two -attendant satellites. How to account for their assiduous interest in -my unpretending office was beyond my power. Nor did I understand why -it should have been necessary to use quite such drastic measures -against the lady, St. Luke, and myself. Still less--I admit it -frankly--when I observed their conspicuous lack of avoirdupois, did I -gather how they had managed to make of us so easy a prey. Under -ordinary conditions I should have been quite willing to take the three -on single-handed. The truth probably was that St. Luke and I had -unwittingly played into their dexterous hands. Had we not been engaged -in matching ourselves against each other we should have been more than -a match for them. But when they came in, and found the sailor man upon -the floor prisoning me close within his arms, all they had to do was -to slip one cord round my throat, and another round his. We were at -their mercy. No man can show much fight when he is being strangled; -especially when the job is in the hands of a skilled practitioner. -Never mind what the theory is, that is the teaching of experience. - -What they wanted, with so much anxiety, in my office, I was unable to -guess. They had already purloined the God of Fortune. - -Stay! It had been returned to me again. I had dropped it on the floor; -been unable to find it. Could it be that they were after it a second -time. I wondered. What peculiar significance, what attribute, could -that small plaything have? - -Beyond doubt they were treating my belongings with scant regard for -the feelings of their owner? If they failed to find what they were -seeking it would not be for want of a thorough quest. Pretty well -everything the apartment contained they subjected to a minute -examination. They allowed nothing to escape them. It was delightful to -watch them. If I had been suffering a little less physical -inconvenience I should have enjoyed myself immensely. They might be -Orientals; but if they were not professional burglars in their own -country then they ought to have been. They were artists any way. - -To note one point--there was such order in their methods. They began -at one corner of the room, and they worked right round it, emptying -boxes, turning out drawers, pulling the books out of their covers, and -the stuffing out of the chairs, and the furniture to pieces generally, -in search of secret hiding-places. Then they began tapping at the -walls, tearing off scraps of paper here and there, to see what was -behind. It beat me to imagine what it was that they were after, though -it was flattering to think what a first-rate hand at concealment they -must be taking me to be. Apparently they were under the impression -that a solicitor had plenty of waste time which he occupied by -secreting odds and ends in solid walls. The rapidity with which they -did all they did do was simply astonishing, particularly when one had -to admit with what thoroughness it was done. But when they came to -dragging the carpet up, and tearing boards from the floor, I began to -wonder if they were going through the house piecemeal. - -The litter was beyond description. My practice might not have been a -large one, but my papers were many. When a large number of documents -are thrown down anywhere, anyhow, they are apt to look untidy. Even in -that moment of martyrdom I groaned in spirit as I thought of the -labour which their rearrangement would involve. - -One mental note I did take; that, despite the eagerness with which -they turned out papers from every possible receptacle, they seemed to -attach to them but scant importance. That they were after something -connected with Mr. Benjamin Batters I had no doubt. Yet they unearthed -the Batters’ papers among the rest--even the Batters’ bonds!--and -tossed them on one side as if they contained nothing which was of -interest to them. If they were able to read English I could not tell, -but every now and then the tall, thin party glanced at a paper as if -it was not altogether Double Dutch to him. - -At last, short of pulling the room itself down about their ears, they -had, apparently to their own entire dissatisfaction, exhausted its -resources. There was a pause in the operations. There ensued a -conclave. The elderly gentleman spoke, while, for the most part, the -others listened. What was being said I had no notion. They were -sparing of gesture, so no meaning was conveyed through the eye to the -brain. I am no linguist. My knowledge of Eastern tongues is nil. I did -not know what language they were speaking; had I known I should have -been no wiser. One fact, however, was unmistakable; their words were -accompanied by glances in my direction, which I did not altogether -relish. If ever I saw cruelty written on a human countenance it was on -the faces of those three gentlemen. Theirs was the love of it for its -own sake. Their faces were rather inhuman masks, expressionless, -impassive, unfeeling. It was not difficult to conceive with what -ingenuity they could contrive tortures with which to rack the nerves -of some promising subject. It was easy to believe that they would put -them into practice with the same composure with which they would -observe the sensations of the object of their curious experiments. - -I had already had some experience of their skill in more than one -direction, and I did not desire a practical demonstration of it in yet -another. - -And for the present I was to be spared the exhibition. It seemed that -they all at once bethought themselves that there were other apartments -of mine which still remained unsearched. Whereupon off they went to -search them. To us they paid no need. Plainly they were sufficiently -acquainted with the good qualities of their handiwork to be aware that -from us they need fear nothing. That we might be able to free -ourselves without assistance was a million to one chance which it was -unnecessary to consider. Until some one came to loose us we were -bound. Of that they were absolutely sure. So they left us there to -keep each other company, and to console each other if we could, while -they went to overhaul the rest of my establishment. It was a pleasant -thought for me to dwell upon. - -Miss Purvis’ eyes were open, but that was about the only sign of life -she showed. They wandered once or twice towards me; wandered was just -the word which expressed the look which was in them. Her face was -white and drawn. There was that about it which made me doubt if even -yet she was conscious of what was being done; I wondered if the pain -which she was suffering had taken effect upon her brain. It would not -have been surprising if it had. It was only by dint of a violent and -continued exercise of will that I myself was able to retain, as it -were, a hold upon my senses. There was, first of all, the torture of -the cramped position. Then there was the way in which the cords cut -into the flesh--what particular kind of cords had been used I could -not make out, but I suspected fiddle-strings. Then there was the fact -that the slightest movement made with a view of obtaining relief -threatened not only strangulation but decapitation too. - -I wondered what the time was. A laundress, one Mrs. Parsons, was -supposed to arrive at eight. It must be nearly that. I had been up for -hours; I was convinced that it was hours. It must be after eight. If -the woman had any regard for punctuality, at any moment she might -appear. If she did not arrive within five minutes she should be -dismissed. How could she expect to keep my rooms in proper order if -her habits were irregular? I had long wondered how it was my chambers -did not do me so much credit as they might have done; I had an eye for -such things although she might not think it. Now I understood. If Mrs. -Parsons would only have the sense, the honesty, the decency, to keep -to her engagements and come at once, while those scoundrels were -engaged elsewhere, in a moment I should be free. Then I would show -them. - -A clock struck seven. It must be wrong. There was a second, third, -fourth, all striking seven. An hour yet before the woman was even due! -And whoever heard of a laundress who was punctual? Before she came -what might not happen? For another hour, at least, we were at the -mercy of these ingenious adventurers. - -They reappeared. What havoc they had wrought in the rooms in which I -lived, and moved, and had my being, I could only guess. Either, from -their point of view, they had not done mischief enough, or the result -of what they had done had not been satisfactory. Plainly, they were -discontented. Their manner showed it. The tall gentleman spoke to his -two associates in a tone which suggested disapprobation of their -conduct. They seemed, with all possible humility, to be endeavouring -to show that the fault was not entirely theirs. This he appeared -unwilling to concede. Finally, flopping down on to their knees, -touching the floor with their foreheads, they grovelled at his feet. -So far from being appeased by this show of penitence, putting out his -right foot, he gave each of them a hearty kick. The effect this had on -them was comical. They sprang upright like a pair of automata, -endeavouring to carry themselves as if they had been the recipient of -the highest honours. - -The tall gentleman moved towards Miss Purvis. They meekly hung on his -heels. He addressed to them remarks to which they scarcely ventured to -reply. He eyed the lady. Then glanced towards me. I wondered what was -the connection which he supposed existed between us. Something -menacing was in his air. He hovered above the helpless girl as a hawk -might above a pigeon. Stretching out his cruel-looking hand he thrust -it almost in her face. I expected to see her subjected to some fresh -indignity, and felt that, if she were, then rage might give me -strength to break the bonds which shackled me. - -If such had been his intention, it was either deferred, or he changed -his mind. He gave a gesture in my direction. Immediately one of his -familiars, advancing, tilted me back with no more compunction than if -I had been an empty beer cask. Thrusting his filthy fingers into my -mouth he dragged out the gag with so much roughness that it tore my -tongue and palate as it passed. Returning me to the position which -suited him best, out of simple wantonness, with the hand which held -the gag he struck me a vigorous blow upon the cheek; so vigorous that, -as it jerked my head on one side it seemed to cause the thong which -was about my throat to nearly sever my head from my shoulders. Even as -he struck me I recognised in my assailant the individual who had -dogged my steps from Camford Street, and whom afterwards I had treated -to a shaking. This was his idea of crying quits. While the blood still -seemed to be whirling before my eyes I said to myself that, if all -went well, to his quittance I would add another score. The last blow -should not be his. - -The removal of the gag did not at once restore to me the faculty of -speech. My mouth was bleeding, I was nearly choked by blood. My tongue -was torn, and sore, and swollen. It felt ridiculously large for the -place it was supposed to occupy. Evidently the attenuated gentleman -understood that there were reasons why I should not be expected to -join in conversation until I had been afforded an opportunity to get -the better of my feelings. He stood regarding me, his parchment-like -visage perfectly expressionless, as if he were awaiting the period -when I might be reasonably required to give voice to my emotions. - -When, as I take it, he supposed such a time to have arrived, he -addressed me, to my surprise, in English, which was not bad of its -kind. - -“Where is the Great Joss?” - -I had no notion what he meant. Had I understood him perfectly I should -have been unable to give him the information he required. So soon as I -attempted to speak I found that my tongue refused, literally, to do -its office. I could only produce those mumbling sounds which proceed, -sometimes, from the mouths of those who are dumb. - -In his judgment, however, it seemed that I ought already to have -advanced to perfect clarity of utterance. He repeated his inquiry. - -“Where is the Great Joss? I am in haste. Tell me quick.” - -“Untie my hands and throat.” - -That was my reply. The words, as they came from my lips, assumed a -guise in which they could hardly have been recognisable for what they -were meant to be, so inarticulately were they spoken. Whether he -understood them I could not say, he ignored their meaning if he did. -One of his satellites--the one who had struck me--hazarded an -observation, with a deep inclination of his head, but his superior -paid no heed to him whatever. He persisted in his previous inquiry. - -“Tell me, where is the Great Joss?” - -With an effort I mumbled an answer. - -“I don’t know what you mean.” - -Evidently the reply did not fall in with his view at all; he -disbelieved it utterly. - -“Tell me where is the Great Joss, or the woman shall die.” - -His meaning was unmistakable. He stretched out his finger towards Miss -Purvis with a gesture. That he was capable of murder I had not the -slightest doubt. That he would make nothing of having an innocent, -unoffending girl tortured to death before my eyes I believed. Fleet -Street might be within a hop, skip, and a jump; but, for the present, -this spot in its immediate neighbourhood was delivered over to the -methods of the East. If I could not afford this monster, who had -sprung from some unknown oriental haunt of merciless fiends, the -satisfaction he demanded, I might expect the worst to happen before -help could come. With him I felt assured that in such matters one -could rely upon the word being followed by the blow. - -I made an effort to appease him. - -“I don’t know where your Joss is. It dropped upon the floor.” - -My reference, of course, was to the toy which Miss Blyth had given me, -and which, when I had let it fall, I was unable to find. Still my -answer did not seem to be the one he wanted. He scrutinised me in -silence for some seconds before he gave me to understand as much. - -“You play with me?” - -There was that in his tone which was anything but playful. I made all -possible haste to deny the soft impeachment. - -“I don’t. Is it the God of Fortune you are after?” - -“The God of Fortune? What do you know about the God of Fortune?” - -“It was given to me. I let it drop. When I came to look for it I -couldn’t find it anywhere.” - -There was something about my reply which he did not like. I was sure -of it by the way in which he spoke, in that unknown tongue, to his -associates. Instantly they approached Miss Purvis, standing one on -either side of her. Their attitude was ominous. - -“Do you wish that she shall die?” - -I did not. I could scarcely have more strenuously desired that she -should live. As I told him with such clearness of language as I could -muster. Considering all things I was eloquent. - -“What it is you want from me I don’t know; consciously I have nothing -which is yours. But you had better understand this, if you are able to -understand anything at all, that only for a minute or two at most are -we in your power. If you want to be let off lightly you will loose -that lady at once; if you harm so much as a hair of her head the law -of England will make you pay for it dearly.” - -In reply the fellow was arrogance itself. - -“What do we care for your law? What has your law to do with us? Are we -dogs that you should use us as you choose? You have stolen, and have -hidden, the Great Joss. Return him to us; or as you have shamed us so -we will shame you.” - -“Not only have I not stolen the Great Joss, but I don’t even know what -the Great Joss is. The only Joss I’ve seen was one about the size of -my finger, which, as I’ve told you already, I dropped on the floor, -and couldn’t find.” - -“You laugh at us.” - -“I do not laugh. I am speaking the simple, absolute truth.” - -“You lie. The gods have told us that the secret of the hiding-place of -the Great Joss is here. Show it to us quickly, or the woman shall -die.” - -“It is your gods who lie, not I.” - -The fellow said something to his colleagues. At once, whipping Miss -Purvis from off the floor, just for all the world as if she were a -trussed fowl, they placed her on the table. - -“Be careful what you do!” I shouted. - -“It is for you to be careful. We come from far across the sea to look -for the Great Joss, which you and yours have stolen, and you make a -mock of us. We are not children that we may be mocked. Give us what is -ours, or we will take what is yours, though we desire it not, and the -woman shall die.” - -“I tell you, man, that if anyone has robbed you it isn’t I. I have not -the faintest notion who you are, or what you’re after; and as for your -Great Joss, I’ve not the least idea what a Great Joss is. What I say -is a simple statement of fact; and what reason you suppose yourself to -have for doubting me is beyond my comprehension.” - -“That is your answer?” - -“Don’t speak as if you suspected me of a deliberate intention to -deceive. What other answer can I give? If, as is possible, you are -suffering from a genuine grievance, I shall be glad to be of any -assistance I can. But you must first give me clearly to understand -what it is you’re after. At present I am completely in the dark.” - -“The woman must die.” - -The fellow was impervious to reason. He repeated the words with a -passionless calm which added to their significance. Again I screamed -at him: - -“You had better be careful!” - -He ignored me utterly. Turning to his collaborators he issued an order -which was promptly obeyed. Loosing Miss Purvis’ bonds they stretched -her out upon the table, and tied her on it with a dexterous rapidity -which denoted considerable practice in similar operations. I observed -the proceedings with sensations which are not to be described. I had -hoped that at the last extremity rage would supply me with strength -with which to burst the cords which prevented me from going to her -assistance. I had hoped in vain. The only result of my frenzied -struggles was to increase the tension, and to make my helplessness, if -possible, still clearer. - -“Help! help!” I yelled. “Help!” - -I was aware that I was the only person who lived in the house, and -that the hour was yet too early for the occupants of offices to have -arrived. But I was actuated by a forlorn hope that my voice might -reach someone who was in a position to render aid. None came. What I -had endured, and was enduring, had robbed my voice of more than half -its power. And though I shouted with what, at the moment, was the full -force of my lungs, I was only too conscious that my utterance was too -inarticulate, too feeble, to allow my words to travel far. - -As for that attenuated fiend, who, it was clear, was not by any means -so long as he was wicked, he regarded my maniacal contortions with a -degree of imperturbability which seemed to me to be the climax of -inhumanity. Although it was certain that he both saw and heard me, -since it was impossible that it could be otherwise, not by so much as -the movement of a muscle did he betray the fact. He suffered me to -writhe and scream to my heart’s content. He simply took no notice; -that was all. When the process of tying down Miss Purvis had been -completed, being informed of the fact by one of his assistants, he -turned to examine, with a critical eye, how the work had been done. -Moving round the table, he tried each ligature with his finger as he -passed. Since he found no fault, apparently the way in which the woman -had been laid out for slaughter met with his complete approval. - -He condescended once more to bestow his attention upon me. - -“For the last time--where is the Great Joss?” - -“I can’t tell you--how can I tell you if I don’t know what the Great -Joss is? For God’s sake, man, tell me what it is you’re really after -before you go too far. If you want my help, give me a chance to offer -it. Explain to me what the Great Joss is. It is possible, since you -appear to be so positive, that I do know something of its whereabouts. -Tell me, clearly, what it is, and all I know is at your service. Put -my words to the test, and you will find that they are true ones.” - -To me it seemed impossible that even such an addle-headed idiot as the -individual in front of me could fail to see that I was speaking the -truth. But he did, he failed entirely. He had convictions of his own, -of which he was not to be disabused. - -“You lie again, making a mock of the gods. To the gods the woman shall -be offered as a sacrifice.” - -He spoke with a passionless calm which denoted a set purpose from -which there was no turning him. - -I raved, I screamed myself hoarse. He paid no heed. I could do no -more. I could either keep my eyes open and watch what went on, or -close them, and my imagination would present me with pictures more -lurid still. The situation was not rendered more agreeable by the fact -that, although they had not given her back the power of speech, as -they had done me, by the removal of the gag, I was conscious that she -was perfectly cognisant of all that was being said, and especially of -the frenzied appeals which I made on her behalf--in vain. - -During the minutes which followed I was as one distraught. Now I -watched, with wide open staring eyes; now I shut them, in a sudden -paroxysm of doubt as to what horror I might be compelled to be an -unwilling witness; then, being haunted by frightful imaginings of what -might be transpiring without my knowledge--for she could make no -sound--I opened them again to see. - -The three scoundrels set about their hideous business with a matter of -fact air which suggested that, in their opinion, they were doing -nothing out of the common. And perhaps, in that genial portion of the -world from which they came, such butcheries were the everyday events -of their lives. - -The tall man issued some curt instructions. The two shorter ones set -about gathering the papers which were scattered about the room, and -piling them in a heap beneath the table. On these they placed more or -less inflammable fragments of my solider belongings. It seemed to be -their intention to have a bonfire on lines of their own. Unless they -were acquainted with a trick or two in that direction, as well as in -others, how they proposed to keep it alight, after ignition, one was -at a loss to understand. - -About the procedure of the principal villain there was no such room -for doubt. There was a frankness in his proceedings which caused me -now to shriek at him in half imbecile, because wholly impotent, rage; -and now to shut my eyes in terror of what he might be doing next. - -By way of a commencement he took from some receptacle in his clothing -what turned out to be a curiously shaped lamp. This he placed on the -table at Miss Purvis’ feet. Having lit it by the commonplace means of -a match from a box of mine which was on the mantelpiece, he threw on -it, at short intervals, what was probably some variation of what -firework vendors describe as “coloured fire.” The result was that -surrounding objects assumed unusual hues, and the room was filled with -a vapour, which was not only obscuring, but malodorous. From his bosom -he produced an evil-looking knife. Laying a defiling hand upon his -victim’s throat, partly by sheer force, partly by the aid of his -knife, he tore her garments open nearly to the waist. Bending over -her, he seemed to be marking out some sort of design with the point of -his blade on the bare skin, in the region of the heart. Drawing -himself upright he suffered his voluminous sleeves to fall back, and -bared his arms, as a surgeon might do prior to commencing an -operation. - -Then he leaned over her again; his knife held out. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - THE GOD OUT OF THE MACHINE. - -How it all happened I have but a misty notion. - -My eyelids were twitching; my eyes were neither shut nor open. I could -not look, nor hide from myself the knowledge of what was being done. I -saw the silent woman, the whiteness of her flesh, the gleam of steel, -the tall figure stooping over her. There were the attendant demons, -one on either side. All was still. My voice had perished, I could no -longer utter a sound. And all that was done by the man with the knife -was done in silence. - -So acute was the stillness I listened for the entry of the steel into -the flesh--as if that were audible! - -Then, on a sudden, all was pandemonium. Of the exact sequence in which -events occurred, I have, as I have said, but a shadowy impression. - -Something struck the fellow with the knife full in the face. What it -was at the moment I could not tell. I learnt afterwards that it was a -soft, peaked sailor’s cap, thrown by a strong wrist, with unerring -aim. The impact was not a slight one. Taken unawares the tall man -staggered; he had been hit clean between the eyes. He put his hand up -to his face, as if bewildered. Before he had it down again he had been -seized by the shoulders, flung to the ground, and the knife wrenched -from him. - -His assailant was Captain Lander. - -“Lander!” I gasped. - -The captain glanced in my direction, then at the woman stretched upon -the table, then at the gentleman upon the floor. Him he appeared to -recognise. - -“So it’s you, is it? What devil’s work have you been up to now? This -is not Tongkin! Look out there--stop ’em, my lads!” - -The attendant demons, perceiving that a change had come o’er the -spirit of the scene, were making for the window, judging, doubtless, -discretion to be the better part of valour. I then learned that -Captain Lander was not alone. He had three companions. These made -short work of stopping the flight of the ingenuous colleagues. One of -the captain’s companions, a man of somewhat remarkable build, gripping -the pair by the nape of the neck by either hand, banged their heads -together. It was a spectacle which I found agreeable to behold. - -The long gentleman was rising from the ground. The captain assisted -him by dragging him up by the shoulder. They observed each other with -looks which were not looks of love. The captain jeered. - -“So we’ve met again, have we? It seems as if you and I were bound to -meet. We must be fond of one another.” - -The other replied with the retort discourteous. - -“You dog! You thief! You accursed!” - -He seemed to be nearly beside himself with rage, which under the -circumstances, perhaps, was not surprising. - -The words apparently conveyed a taunt which drove the man to madness. -Forgetful of the disparity which existed between them and how little -he was the captain’s match, he flung himself at him with the -unreflecting frenzy of some wild cat. Lander laughed. Putting his arms -about the frantic man, with a grin he compressed them tighter and -tighter till I half expected to see him squeeze the life right out. -When he relaxed his hold the other had had enough. Tottering back -against the wall, he leaned against it, breathless. I had supposed his -face to be a mask, incapable of expression, but perceived my error -when I noted the glances with which he regarded his late antagonist. - -Careless of how the other might be observing him, Lander, with a few -quick touches of the tall gentleman’s own knife, released the girl who -had already, in very truth, tasted of the bitterness of death. Seeing -the gag, he withdrew it with a tenderness which was almost feminine. -His own coat he threw over her shoulders. A tremor passed all over -her; she raised herself a little; then, with a sigh, sank back upon -the table. - -As if satisfied that with her all would now be well, Lander turned to -me. In a moment my bonds were severed. - -“Why, Mr. Paine, how come you in this galley?” - -“That is more than I can tell. Is the lady badly hurt?” - -“Not she. She’ll be all right in a minute. I came just in time.” He -uttered an exclamation on perceiving the sailor man, Luke, bound, at -my side. “Why, it’s the Apostle! Lads, here’s our friend, Luke! The -trusty soul! Tied hand and foot, just like a common cur--and gagged as -well! Mr. Luke, this is an unexpected pleasure! We’ll have the gag out -at any rate, if only for the sake of hearing your dear old tongue -start wagging. I hope that didn’t hurt you; you must excuse a little -roughness, for old acquaintance, but I think we’ll leave you tied.” - -Mr. Luke seemed to experience as much difficulty in recovering the -faculty of speech as I had done. Stammering words came from his -bleeding lips. - -“Then--in that case--you’d better--kill me.” - -“No: we won’t kill you, not just yet; though I would have killed you -out of hand, if I could have got within reach of you--you know when. -On second thoughts I fancy we’ll untie you. Pray tell us, Mr. Luke, -where’s the Great Joss now?” - -Mr. Luke was stretching his limbs, gingerly, apparently finding the -process anything but an agreeable one. - -“That’s--what I--want to know,” he mumbled. - -“No? Is that so? you done too? Poor Luke! how sad to think your -confidence should have been misplaced. It’s a treacherous world.” The -captain turned to me. “Mr. Paine, I believe you are the only person -who can give us precise information as to the present whereabouts of -the Great Joss.” - -“I?” - -I stared at him amazed. - -“Yes, you. I’ll tell you why I think so.” - - - - - BOOK IV. - THE JOSS. - - (CAPTAIN MAX LANDER SETS FORTH THE CURIOUS ADVENTURE WHICH MARKED THE - VOYAGE OF THE “FLYING SCUD.”) - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - LUKE’S SUGGESTION. - -I’ve no faith in your old wives’ tales. Not I. But the luck was -against us. Everything went wrong from the first. And there’s no -getting away from the fact that we sailed on a Friday. - -The weather in the Bay was filthy. Our engines went wrong in the Red -Sea. We lay up at Aden for a week. There was a bill as long as my arm -to pay. Then when we got out into the open the weather began again. -Never had such a run! It was touch and go for our lives. One night, -half-way between Ceylon and Sumatra, I thought it was the end. We had -more than another touch off the Philippines. By the time we reached -Yokohama we were a wreck--nothing less. - -The ship ought to have been overhauled before we started. But the -owners wouldn’t see it. They insisted that a patch here, and a coat of -paint there, would meet the case. But it didn’t. Not by a deal. As we -soon found. At Aden, after all, the engines had only been tinkered. -They went wrong again before we had been three days out. The weather -we had would have tried the best work that ever came out of an -engineer’s shop. Those nailed together pieces of rusty scrap iron -worried the lives right out of us. If we had gone to the bottom they -would have been to blame. - -We were late at Yokohama. A lot. The agents didn’t like it, nor the -consignees either. There were words. After all I’d gone through I -wasn’t in a mood to take a jacketing for what wasn’t any fault of -mine. So I let them see. The result was that there were all round -ructions. I admit that, under severe provocation, I did go farther -than I intended. And I did not mean to knock old Lawrence down. But it -was only by the mercy of God I had brought the ship into port at all. -And it was hard lines to meet nothing but black looks, and words, -because I hadn’t performed the impossible. - -Lawrence resented my knocking him down. David Lawrence was our agent; -a close-fisted, cantankerous Scotchman. I own I ought to have kept my -hands off him. But when he started bullyragging me on my own deck, -before the crew, as if I was something lower than a cabin boy, when I -had had about enough of it, which wasn’t long, I let fly, and over he -went. - -I was sorry directly afterwards. And when he gave me to understand -that not a ha’porth of stuff should come aboard that boat while I was -in command, I swallowed the bile and started to apologise. Not much -good came of that. As soon as my nose was inside his office he began -rubbing me the wrong way. The end of it was that I nearly knocked him -down again. And should have quite if his clerks hadn’t kept me off -him. After that I knew the game was up. I knew that nothing worth -having would come my way at Yokohama. I got drunk for the first time -in my life. The ship was eating her head off for port dues. I slipped -her moorings and ran out to sea. - -What I was to do I had not the faintest notion. I was perfectly well -aware that I might as well sink her where she was as to take her back -as good as empty. If I didn’t lose my certificate it would be no -further use to me, because that would be the last command that I -should ever have. I took her to Hong Kong on the off chance of picking -something up. But, as I had half expected, news of _The Flying Scud_ -had travelled ahead. There was nothing but the cold shoulder waiting -for me all along the line. I did get a few odds and ends, but nothing -worth speaking of, and I cleared out of Hong Kong for the same reason -I had cleared out of Yokohama. - -Yet, though I should scarcely have thought it possible, there was -worse to follow. - -The men, like their captain, were in a bad temper. Which was not to be -wondered at. They were pretty near to mutiny. If they got all the way -I should be landed indeed. Not that I minded. I was beyond that. I -slept with one loaded revolver under my head, and another in my hand. -Possibly a bit of a scrimmage would have had the same effect on me as -a little blood-letting. I should have been the better for it -afterwards. - -I confess I did not know where I was going. I crawled along the -Chinese coast with some dim idea of gaining time. Given time I might -be able to form some sort of reasonable plan. One thing was sure, I -had no intention of going home to be ruined. If that was to be the way -of it, I could be ruined just as well where I was. Better perhaps. I -sneaked through the Hainan Strait. A day or two after we ran out of -water. - -Just where we were I am not prepared to say. That’s the truth. No -lies! The coast was strange to me. I know the China Seas perhaps as -well as a good many men, but I had never been in the Gulf of Tongkin -before. I will say this, we were not a thousand miles from Lienchow. - -We were still hugging the coast when they told me the stores were out. -I ordered them to take her in as close as she could be got. A little -delay more or less didn’t matter a snap of the fingers to me. I had -got as far that. Considering we weren’t over-coaled it was pretty far. -It was a lovely evening, a Friday as it happened--I must have been -born on a Friday! In about a couple of hours the sun would be setting, -so, if we were quick, there would be time to get something aboard -before the night was on us. And quick would have to be the word, -because, in the forecastle they had reached pretty nearly their last -biscuit. - -I am not excusing myself. I own I could not have managed worse if I -had tried. I knew all along the stores were running short. I had -refused to refit at Hong Kong out of pure cussedness. What I said was -that if the lubbers wouldn’t ship their cargo, I wouldn’t buy their -stores. And I didn’t. I meant to take in fresh supplies when we had a -chance. We had not had a chance as yet. But now that we had come down -to nothing it was clear that we must get something, if it was only -enough to take us along for a day or two. - -Fortunately the sea was calm, the anchorage good. We were able to run -close in. Directly a boat was lowered the men started off as if they -were rowing for grub-stakes. Which they were. - -So far as I could see the country thereabouts was uninhabited. If that -was the case, it was a poor look out for us. But as it was a shelving -shore, with trees crowning the crest as far as the eye could reach, it -was possible that both houses and people might be close at hand though -hidden from sight. Which, if I wished to avoid further trouble, was a -state of things devoutly to be desired. - -I saw the boat reach land, men get out of it, climb the slope, -disappear from view. And then, for more than three mortal hours, I saw -no more of them. It was pretty tedious waiting. Every man-jack on -board kept a keen look-out. Discipline was not so good as it might -have been--for reasons. There was no conspicuous attempt, as the -minutes crept slowly by, to conceal the apparently general impression -that it was a case of bunk; that those sailor men had thought it -better to throw in their lot with the natives of those parts, rather -than to continue the voyage with me. At the bottom of my boots I felt -that if such was the fact it was not for me to say that they were -fools. - -However, it proved not to be the fact. Sometime after darkness had -fallen, just as I was concluding that it would perhaps be as well to -send a second boat in search of the first, and take command of it -myself, boat No. 1 returned. It was greeted with language which might -be described as hearty. They had had some luck, brought something in -the victual line. Without any reference to my authority a raid was -made on what they had brought. I said nothing, not caring what they -did. If they wanted to keep themselves alive, what did it matter to -me? - -The boat had been in command of a man named Luke. At Yokohama I had -had a few words with the first mate, and sent him packing. At Hong -Kong there was a difference of opinion with the second, he went after -the first. As the third fancied himself ill, and thought he’d try the -hospital ashore for a change, it looked as if we were going to be -under officered. There was a handy man aboard who called himself Luke. -Just Luke. I didn’t know much about him, what I did know I didn’t -altogether like. But, as I say, he was a handy man. One of those chaps -who can drive an engine or trim a sail. He knew something about -navigation. Said he had a mate’s certificate, but I never saw it, and -never had any reason to believe anything he said. Anyhow, being in a -bit of a hole I took his word for it, and first mate he was appointed. - -Some little time after he’d come aboard I was sitting in my cabin, -feeling, as usual, like murder or suicide, when there was a tapping at -the door. It was Luke. - -“Beggin’ pardon, captin, but can I have a word with you?” - -“Have two.” - -He had three--and more. He stood, looking at me in the furtive, -sneaking way he always had, twiddling his cap with his fingers like a -forecastle hand. - -“Excuse me, captain, but I don’t fancy as how you’ve been overmuch in -luck this trip.” - -“My dear Mr. Luke, whatever can have caused you to imagine a thing -like that?” - -“Well--it’s pretty obvious, ain’t it?” - -He grinned. I could have broken his head. - -“Is it for the purpose of imparting that information that I am -indebted to the pleasure of your presence here?” - -“Well no; it ain’t.” He scraped his jaw with his hand, as if to feel -if it wanted shaving, which it did. “The fact is, I shouldn’t be -surprised if you chanced upon a bit of luck still, if you liked.” - -“If I liked! You’re a man of humour.” - -“It’s this way.” He hesitated, as if doubtful as to the advisability -of telling me which way it was. “It all depends upon whether you’d -care to run a trifle of risk.” - -“After what I’ve gone through it’d have to be a pretty big trifle of -risk which would prevent me snatching a chestnut out of the fire.” - -“That’s what I thought.” - -He cleared his throat. - -“Get on, man, get on!” - -“It’s this way.” - -“You’ve said it’s this way, but you haven’t said which way.” - -“There’s a--we’ll say party, as wants a passage to England, bad.” - -“Where is this party?” - -“Over there.” - -He nodded his head in the direction of the shore. - -“Who is this party?” - -“That’s where it is; he’s a Joss.” - -“A Joss? What do you mean? What are you grinning at? Don’t try to play -any of your damfool jokes with me, I’m not taking any.” - -“It’s no joke, captain; it’s dead earnest. The party is a Joss, and -that’s where it is.” - -“What do you mean by a Joss?” - -“It seems that a Joss is a sort of a kind of a god of the country, as -it were.” - -Luke’s grin became more cavernous. - -“Are you suggesting that we should raid a temple; is that what you’re -after?” - -“Well, no, not quite that. This party, although a Joss, is an -Englishman.” - -“An Englishman!” - -“Yes, an Englishman; and having had enough of being a Joss he wants to -get back to his native land, ‘England, home and beauty,’ and that kind -of thing, and he’s willing to pay high for getting there.” - -“Where’s the risk?” - -“Well, it seems that the people in these parts think a good deal of -him, and they don’t care to have their gods and such-like cut their -lucky whenever they think they will. Besides, he wouldn’t want to come -empty-handed.” - -“How do you mean?” - -Luke glanced round, as if searching for unseen listeners. His voice -sank. - -“I didn’t manage to get more than half-a-dozen words, as it might be, -with the party in question----” - -“How did you manage to get those?” - -The dear man’s face assumed a crafty look. - -“Well, it was a kind of accident, as it were; but that is neither here -nor there. From what I’m told there’s a slap-up temple on the other -side of the hill, what’s crammed with the offerings of the faithful. -This here party’s been a good time in the neighbourhood, and through -their thinking a lot of him, as I’ve said, they’ve brought him heaps -and heaps of presents. It’s them he wants to take away with him.” - -“If they’re his who’s to say him no?” - -“Well, there’s a lot of other coves about the temple, and they won’t -allow they are his. Anyhow, they’d raise hell-and-Tommy if they knew -he thought of taking them to England.” - -“I see. As I supposed at first, it’s a big steal you’re after.” - -“It’s hardly fair to call it that, captain. The things are his. It’s -only those other blokes’ cussed greediness.” - -“It is that way sometimes. One man says things are his which other -people claim; then, poor beggar, he gets locked up because they are so -grasping. What is he disposed to pay for taking him and his -belongings?” - -“Just whatever you choose to ask.” - -In Luke’s eyes, as they met mine, there was a peculiar meaning. - -“Then he’ll find his passage an expensive one.” - -“I don’t think you’ll find there’ll be any trouble about that. You get -him and his safe to England, and I shouldn’t be surprised but what -you’d find, captain, that you’d made a good voyage after all. The only -thing is, there’s no time to be lost. He’s in a hurry. He’s not so -young as he was, and he’s about as sick of this neighbourhood as he -can be.” - -“He can come aboard at once if he likes.” - -“Well, that would be sharp work, wouldn’t it? But I don’t know that it -can be done quite so quick as that. You see, there’s a good deal of -stuff, and it’s got to be got away, and without any fuss. But I tell -you what, captain, he would like to have a word with you, if so be as -you wouldn’t mind.” - -“Where is he? Did you bring him with you in the boat?” - -“No, I didn’t do that. He ain’t a party as can go where, when, and how -he likes. There’s eyes upon him all the time, and there’s other -things. But I do know where he’s to be found, and I did go so far as -to say that if so be you was willin’ I’d bring you straight back to -him right away, and then you might talk things over; I did make so -bold as to go as far as that.” - -“Do you wish me to understand that he’s waiting for me now?” - -“Well, that’s about the size of it.” - -“I’ll come.” - -I went. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - THE THRONE IN THE CENTRE. - -Never shall I forget that row in the moonlight. It was one of those -clear, soft, mysterious nights, which one sometimes gets in those -latitudes, when the air seems alive with unseen things. One’s half shy -of talking for fear of being overheard. I’m no hand at description, -but those who have been in those parts know the sort of night I mean. -I was not in a romantic mood, God knows. Nor, so far as I could see, -was there much of romance about the expedition. But I had been -brooding, brooding, brooding, till things had got into my blood. As I -sat there in the boat I felt as if I were moving through a world of -dream. - -We had brought a funny crowd. At the back of my mind, and I felt sure -at the back of Luke’s, was the feeling that if the thing had to be -done at all then the quicker it was done the better. It was a case of -taking time by the forelock. _The Flying Scud_ had a ragged crew. The -Lord alone could tell what was the nationality of most of them. Out of -the bunch we had picked the best. There was the chief engineer, Isaac -Rudd. He had shipped with me before. I knew him, and that he wouldn’t -stick at a trifle. A man who had had to wrestle with such engines as -ours wasn’t likely to. In a manner of speaking he was as deep in the -ditch as I was; because if things had gone wrong his share of the -blame was certainly equal to mine. If there was a chance of levelling -up then we were both about as eager to snatch at it. Then there was -Holley, Sam Holley, whom I had made second mate. Though he was a fat -man, with a squeaky voice, I was hoping there were not too many soft -streaks in him. There was his chum, Bill Cox, the very antipodes of -himself. A shrivelled-up little fellow, with a voice like a big -bassoon. Those two always went together. - -Lord knows who the rest were. Though I had a kind of an inkling that -Luke had done his best to see there were no shirkers, I had not -breathed a syllable about the game we were after. But Luke might have -dropped a hint. There was that about the fellows which to me smelt -like business. And I felt sure that each man had about him somewhere -something which would come in handy to fight with. - -Still, I knew nothing about that. The impression I had wished to -convey was that we were enjoying a little moonlight excursion, and -that if anything was about, it was peace and mercy. - -We reached shore. I spoke to them as Luke and I were getting out. - -“You chaps will stay here. Mr. Holley, you’ll be in command and see -that there’s no roving. Mr. Rudd, you will come with us to the top of -the hill. Mr. Luke and I are going to see a friend on a little matter -of business. If you hear a double catcall, or the sound of firearms, -or anything that makes you think that we’re not altogether enjoying -ourselves, you pass the word at once. Then you chaps will come on for -all you’re worth. Leave one man in charge of the boat; that’s all.” - -We then went up the slope. At the top we left Rudd, with a final tip -from me to keep his eyes skinned, and his ears open. Luke and I -plunged right away into what seemed to me to be a trackless forest. -How he could find his way in it, considering he had only been there -once in his life before, and then in broad daylight, was beyond my -understanding. But there were one or two things about St. Luke which I -couldn’t make out, either then or afterwards. Anyhow he forged his way -ahead as if he had been used to the place from his cradle up. Never -seemed puzzled for a moment. - -Presently we reached an open space. The moon shone down so that it was -as light as day. Only there was a fringe of outer darkness all around. -Luke made a queer noise with his lips. I suppose it was some sort of -bird he was imitating. He repeated it three times; with an interval -between each. Then something came out of the darkness which took me -all aback. - -It was a woman. - -When she first appeared she had something white over her, head and -all. Coming close up to us, drawing the covering aside with a -dexterous switch, she stood bareheaded. I stared in amazement. I had -not known there were such women in the world. I stammered to Luke-- - -“Who’s this?” - -To my astonishment she answered--in English a thousand times better -than mine. It was a treat to listen to her. - -“It is I.” - -Off came my cap in a twinkling. - -“I beg your pardon. I had no idea I was to meet a lady.” - -“A lady? Am I a lady? Yes?” She laughed. She alone knew what at. Such -laughter! “I am Susan.” - -Susan! She was as much a Susan as I was a Jupiter. I said then, and I -say now, and I shall keep on saying, she was the loveliest creature I -had ever seen even in--I won’t say dreams, because I don’t dream--but -in pictures. She was straight as a mast. Carried herself as if she -were queen of the earth; which she was. Yet with a dainty grace which -for bewitching charm was beyond anything I had ever imagined. And her -eyes! They were like twin moons in a summer sky. As I looked at her -every nerve in my body tingled. - -She added, since she saw me speechless: - -“I am the daughter of the gods.” - -That was better. She was that. The daughter of the gods--as she put it -herself. I could have dropped at her feet and worshipped. But she went -on: - -“You are from the ship? You are the captain?” - -“I am Max Lander.” - -“Max Lander?” She repeated my name in a sort of a kind of a way which -made everything seem to swim before my eyes. “It is a good name. We -shall be friends.” - -“Friends!” - -She held out her hands to me. As I took them into mine, Lord! how I -shivered. I fancy she felt me shaking by the way she smiled. It made -me worse, her smile did. She kept cool through it all. - -“Shall we not be friends?” - -“My dear lady, I--I hope we shall.” - -Talk about being at a loss for words! I could have poured out -thousands. Only just then my dictionary had all its pages torn out, -and I didn’t know where to lay my hand upon one of them. - -“It is my father you have come to see.” - -“Your father?” - -I had forgotten what had brought me. Everything but the fact that she -was standing there, in the moonlight, within reach of me, had passed -from my mind. Her words brought me back to earth with a bang. Her -father? Was it possible that I had come to see her father? She, the -daughter of the gods; what manner of man must be her sire? I stuttered -and I stammered. - -“I--I didn’t understand I’d come to see your father.” - -“He is the Great Joss.” - -“The Great Joss?” - -What on earth did she mean? What was a Joss, anyhow, great or little? -I had heard of joss-sticks, though I only had a hazy notion what they -were. But a real live Joss, who could be the father of such a -daughter, was a new kind of creature altogether. She offered no -explanation. - -“He waits for you. I am here to bring you to him. Come.” - -She fluttered off among the trees. - -“Luke,” I whispered as we followed, “this is not at all the sort of -thing I was prepared for.” - -“She’s a fine piece, ain’t she?” - -A “fine piece!” To apply his coarse Whitechapel slang to such a being! -It was unendurable. I could have knocked him down. Only I thought -that, just then, I had better not. I preserved silence instead. - -It was like a page out of a fairy tale; we followed the enchanted -princess through the wood of wonders. The gleaming of her snow-white -robes was all we had to guide us. Shafts of light shot down upon her -through the trees. When they struck her she shone like silver. She -moved swiftly through the forest; out of the darkness into the light, -then into the dark again. No sound marked her passing. She sped on -noiseless feet. While Luke struggled clumsily after her. - -She took us perhaps a quarter of a mile. Even as we went I wondered if -Isaac Rudd upon the hill-top would hear us should we find ourselves in -want of aid. How help would reach us if he did. One would need to be -highly endowed with the instinct of locality to follow us by the way -which we had come. A rendezvous hidden in a primeval forest, as this -one seemed to be, might not be found easy of access by any sailor man. - -She stopped; waiting till we came close up to her. - -“It is here. Be careful; there is a step.” - -It was only when she opened a door, and I perceived the shimmer of a -dim light beyond, that I realised that we were standing in the shadow -of some kind of building. The darkness had seemed to be growing more -opaque. Here was the explanation. If it had not been for her we should -have knocked our heads against the wall. Nothing betrayed its -neighbourhood; not a light, not a sound. If it had been placed there, -cheek by jowl with the towering trees, with the intent of concealing -its existence as much as possible from the eyes of men, the design had -been well conceived and carried out. At night no one would suspect its -presence. How it would be by day I could not tell. I doubted if it -would be much more obvious then. It was no hut. As I glanced above me -it seemed to be of huge proportions. Its blackness soared up and up -like some grim nightmare. What could it be? - -Our guide entered. I followed; Luke brought up the rear. It was some -seconds before I began to even faintly understand what kind of place -it was which we were in. Then I commenced to realise that it must be -some kind of heathen temple. Its vastness amazed me. Whether it was or -was not exaggerated by the prevailing semi-darkness I could not -positively determine. To me it seemed to be monstrous. Height, -breadth, length, all were lost in shadows. Wherever I looked I could -not see the end. Only a haunting impression of illimitable distance. - -The door by which we had entered was evidently a private one. There -was only space for one at a time to pass. To such an edifice there -must have been another entrance, to permit of the passage of large -crowds. Though I could not guess in which direction it might be. -Columns rose on every hand. I had a notion that they were of varied -colours; covered with painted carvings. But whether they were of wood, -stone, or metal I could not say. Their number added an extra touch of -bewilderment. One gazed through serried lines and lines of columns -which seemed to bridge the gathering shadows with the outer darkness -which was beyond. - -Until our guide moved more towards the centre of the building, with us -at her heels, I did not understand where the light which illumined the -place came from. It proceeded from what I suppose was the altar. The -high altar. A queer one it was. And imposing to boot. Anyhow, seen in -that half light, with us coming on it unprepared, and not expecting -anything of the kind, it was imposing, and something more. I don’t -mind owning that I had a queer feeling about my back. Just as if -someone had squeezed an unexpected drop of water out of a sponge, and -it was going trickling down my spine. - -There was some fascinating representations of what one could only -trust were not common objects of the seashore. These were of all -sizes. Some several times as large as life, and, one fervently hoped, -a hundred times less natural. They stood for originals which, so far -as my knowledge of physiology goes, are to be found neither in the -sea, or under it; on the earth, or over it; or anywhere adjacent. The -powers be thanked! They were monsters; just that, and would have been -excellent items in a raving madman’s ideal freak museum. Anywhere else -they were out of place. There was one sweet creature which -particularly struck my fancy. It was some fourteen or fifteen feet -high, and was about all mouth. Its mouth was pretty wide open. It -would have made nothing of swallowing a Jonah. And was fitted with a -set of teeth which were just the thing to scrunch his bones. - -These pretty dears were arranged in a semicircle, each on a stand of -its own. The small ones were outside. They grew bigger as they went -on, until, by the time you reached the biggest in the middle, if you -were a drinking man you were ready to turn teetotaler at sight. The -hues they were decked in were enough to make you envy the colour -blind. Coming on this livening collection without the slightest -notice, in that great black mystery of a place, with just light enough -to let them hit you in the eye, and hidden in the darkness you knew -not what besides, was a bit trying to the nerves. At least it was to -mine. And I’m not generally accounted a nervous subject. - -The strangest thing of all was in the centre. I stared at it, and -stared; yet I couldn’t make out what it was. - -It was on a throne; if it wasn’t gold it looked like it. It was large -enough for half-a-dozen men. Standing high. Right in the middle, -flanked by the biggest pair of monsters, the seat was on a level with -the tops of their heads. It was approached by a flight of steps, each -step apparently of different coloured stone. Coloured lamps were hung -above and about it. One noticed how, in the draughty air, they were -swinging to and fro. From these proceeded all the light that was in -the place, except that here and there upon the steps were queer-shaped -vessels, seemingly of copper, in which something burned, flashing up -now and then in changing hues, like Bengal lights. From them, I -judged, proceeded the sickly smell which made the whole place like a -pest-house. And the smoke was horrid. - -In the very centre of the throne was something, though what I could -not make out. It seemed immobile; yet there was that about it which -suggested life. The face and head were as hideous as any of the -horrors round about, and yet--could the thing be human? Long -parti-coloured hair--scarlet, yellow, green, all sorts of unnatural -colours--descending from the scalp nearly obscured the visage. There -seemed to be only one eye and no nose. If there were ears they were -hidden. Was it some obscene creature or the mockery of a man? There -were no signs of legs. The thing was scarcely more than three feet -high. Being clad in a sort of close-fitting tunic, which was ablaze -with what seemed diamonds, legs, if there had been any, could scarcely -have been hidden. There was certainly nothing in the way of breeches. -Arms, on the other hand, there were and to spare. A pair dangled at -the sides which were longer than the entire creature. Huge hands were -at the ends. - -While I gazed at this nightmare creation of some delirious showman’s -fancy, wondering if such a creature by any possibility could ever have -had actual existence, that most beautiful woman in the world who had -brought us there turned to me and said, as simply and as naturally as -if she were remarking that she’d take another lump of sugar in her -tea:-- - -“This is the Great Joss--my father.” - -And Luke, clearing his throat, with an air half apologetic and half -familiar, observed, in a sort of husky groan, which I daresay he meant -for a whisper, - -“Hallo, Ben, my cockalorum bird, how goes it along with you, old son?” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - THE OFFERINGS OF THE FAITHFUL. - -No notice was taken of Luke’s inquiry. Instead, the whole place was -filled all at once with a variety of discordant sounds. They seemed to -proceed from the monsters which were ranged about the central figure. -At the same time their arms began to move, their heads to waggle, -their mouths to open and shut, their eyes to roll. Possibly, to the -untaught savage, such an exhibition might have appeared impressive. It -reminded me too much of the penny-in-the-slot figures whose limbs are -set in motion by the insertion of a coin. The slight awe which I had -felt for the figures vanished for good and all. - -“That’s enough of it,” I observed. “I like them better when they’re -still. Would whoever’s pulling the strings mind taking a rest?” - -I had a sort of a kind of an idea that by someone or other my remark -was not relished so much as it deserved. A suspicion that in some -quarter there was a feeling of resentment that what had been intended -to confound me should have ended in a fizzle. The noises stopped; the -figures ceased to move; it was as if the coin-in-the-slot had given us -our pennyworth. Instead, something which, from my point of view, was -very much more objectionable began to happen. - -From the immediate neighbourhood of the figure on the throne snakes’ -heads began to peep. There was no mistake that they were all -alive--oh! The evil-looking brutes began to slither over the sides. I -never could abide snakes, either in a figurative or a literal sense. -The mere sight of one puts my dander up. Whipping up a couple of -revolvers out of my coat pockets, I headed the muzzles straight for -them. - -“Someone had better call those pretty darlings off before I shoot the -eyes clean out of their heads!” - -To my surprise the warning was immediately answered. - -“You’d better not shoot at them, my lad, or you’ll be sorry.” - -The words came from the creature on the throne. - -“So you are alive, are you? You’d better call them off, or I’ll shoot -first, and be sorry after.” - -“They’re not touching you, you fool!” - -“No, and I’m not going to wait until they are.” - -The things were coming unpleasantly close--their approach setting -every nerve in my body on edge. In another second or two I would have -fired. Luke caught me by the arm. - -“Gently, captain, gently. The snakes won’t hurt you; our friend won’t -let them. It’s only his way. Captain, let me introduce you to my old -friend, Mr. Benjamin Batters. My friend and me haven’t seen each other -for years, have we, Ben?” - -“Can’t say I ever wanted to see you.” - -“Just so, just so; still friends do meet again. Ben, this is Captain -Lander.” - -“He doesn’t seem to know his proper place.” - -“When I glance in your direction, Mr. Batters, I’m inclined to make -the same remark of you.” - -“Damn the man!” - -The creature proved himself to be very much alive by seizing one of -the serpents in his huge hands and whirling it above his head as if it -had been a club. - -Luke played the part of peacemaker. - -“Now, gentlemen! Come, Ben, no offence was meant, I’m sure. Tell the -captain what you want. He’s in rather a hurry, Captain Lander is.” - -“Then let him go to the devil, and take his hurry with him.” - -“By all means. I wish you good evening, Mr. Batters.” - -I swung round on my heels. The creature screamed after me. - -“Stop, you fool, stop! I’m the Joss--the Great Joss; the greatest god -this country’s ever known. In my presence all men fall upon their -knees and worship me.” - -“Let ’em. Tastes differ. I like my gods to be built on other lines.” - -I expected to be attacked by a shower of execration. But the creature -changed his mood. - -“And I’m sick of being a god--sick of it--dead sick! Curse your -josses, is what I say--damn ’em!” There followed a flood of -adjectives. “I want to get out of the place, to turn my back upon the -whole infernal land, to never set eyes on it again. I’m an Englishman, -that’s what I am--an Englishman, British born and British bred. I want -to get back to my native land. Captain Lander, or whatever your cursed -name is, will you take me back to England?” - -“When?” - -“Now--at once--to-night!” - -“I do not carry passengers. I doubt if I have proper accommodation. -What will you give me for taking you?” - -“I’ll show you what I’ll give you.” - -The creature scrambled off his throne by means of his arms and hands, -like some huge baboon. As I had suspected, he appeared to have no -legs. Reaching the ground he moved at what, under the circumstances, -was an extraordinary pace. Wheels had been attached to the stumps of -his legs. Using his hands as a monkey does its forearms, he advanced -upon these wheels as if they had been castors. As we followed him Luke -whispered in my ear:-- - -“You mustn’t mind what he says; he’s a bit off his chump, poor chap.” - -“From what I can see there seems to be a bit off him elsewhere besides -the chump.” - -“Oh, he’s lived a queer life. Been cut to pieces, stewed in oil, and I -don’t know what. He’s a tough ’un. It’s a miracle he’s alive. I -thought he was dead years ago. When I first knew him he was a finer -man than me.” - -Mr. Batters had brought us to an apartment which seemed to be used as -a repository for the treasures of the temple. The room was not a large -one, but it was as full as it could hold. Curios were on every hand. -Trading in Eastern seas I had seen something of things of the kind; I -knew that those I saw there had value. There were images, ornaments, -vessels of all sorts, and shapes, and sizes, apparently of solid gold. -He lifted the lid of a lacquered case. - -“You see that? That’s dust--gold dust. There are more than twenty -cases full of it, worth at least a thousand pounds apiece. You see -those?” He was holding up another box for my inspection. “Those are -diamonds, rubies, pearls, sapphires, opals, and turquoises.” - -“Real?” - -“Real!” he screamed. “They’re priceless! unique! They’re offerings -which the faithful have made to me, the Great Joss. They come from men -and women who are the greatest and the richest in the land. Do you -think they would dare to offer me imitations? If they were guilty of -such sacrilege I would destroy them root and branch. And they know -it!” The creature snarled like some great cat. “I know something of -stones, and I tell you you won’t find finer gems in any jeweller’s -shop in London--nor any as fine.” He waved his arms. “You won’t match -the things you see here in all Europe--not in kings’ palaces nor in -national museums. I know, and I tell you. If all the things you see in -this place were put up in a London auction room for sale to-morrow, -they’d fetch more than a million pounds--down on the nail! I swear -they would! If you’ll take me with you to England to-night--me and my -daughter here; this is my daughter, Susan. She’s her father’s only -child.” The irony of it! My stars! A shudder went all over me as I -thought of her being connected by ties of blood with such an object. -“If you’ll give the pair of us ship-room, and all these -things--they’re all my property, every pin’s worth, all offerings to -the Great Joss--you and your crew shall have half of everything you -see. That shall be in payment of our passage.” - -Half! - -My mouth watered. His appraisement of the value of the things I saw -about me went to all intents and purposes unheeded. Divide his figures -by twenty. Say their worth was £50,000. Half of that, even after I, -and Luke, and Rudd, and the rest of them had had their pickings--and -out of a venture of this sort pickings there would have to be--the -remnant would still leave a handsome profit for the owners. I knew the -kind of men with whom I had to deal. Only give them a sufficient -profit, I need not fear being placed in their black books. However it -might have come. And then there was half that collection of gems--I -would have that too. And half the gold dust. Ye whales and little -fishes! this might yet turn out the most profitable voyage I’d ever -made. - -Yet I easily perceived that there might be breakers ahead. - -“You say that all these things are yours?” - -“Every one--every speck of gold dust. All! all! I am the only Great -Joss; they have been given to me.” - -“Then, in that case, there will be no difficulty in removing them.” - -The response came brusquely enough, and to the point. - -“That’s where you’re a fool. Do you suppose I’d share the plunder if -there weren’t? If it was known that I was going to make myself scarce, -let alone hooking off with this lot of goods, there’d be hell to pay. -I haven’t stayed here all this time because I wanted; I had to. They -made of me the thing you see; cut me to pieces; boiled, burned, and -baked me; skinned me alive. Then they dipped me in a paint-pot and -made of me a god. The next thing they’ll make of me’ll be a corpse; I -can’t stand being pulled about with red-hot pincers like I used to. -There’s a hundred adjectived priests about this adjectived show. They -all want to have a finger in my pie. When I had a word with Luke here, -and arranged with him to have a word with you, I sent the whole damned -pack off miracle working at a place half-a-dozen miles away from here. -We’ll have to be cleared off before they’re back or there’ll be -fighting; they can fight! And the man who falls into their hands alive -before they’ve done with him will curse his mother for ever having -borne him.” - -“How do you propose to go--walk?” - -“Walk!” He laughed--a laugh which wasn’t nice to hear. “I haven’t -walked for twenty years--since they burned my legs off so that I -shouldn’t. When the Great Joss goes abroad he travels in his -palanquin--there it is. And as he passes the people throw themselves -on to the ground and hide their faces in the dust, lest, at the sight -of his godlike form, they should fall dead. You’ll have to fetch your -chaps, and be quick about it! They’ll have to carry me, and I’ll stuff -the palanquin as full as it will hold with the things which are best -worth taking. I know ’em!” - -I reflected for a moment. Then turned to Luke. - -“Do you think you can find your way to Rudd?” - -The girl interposed. - -“Let me go; I shall be surer--and quicker.” - -“You can’t go alone; they won’t take their orders from you.” An idea -occurred to me. “I’ll come with you, and we’ll take as many things -with us as we can carry. Luke, you stay behind and help Mr. Batters -put the things together in convenient parcels. I doubt if there’ll be -enough of us to take everything. Pick out the best. As time’s -precious, what we can’t take we shall have to leave behind.” - -I crammed my pockets with the smaller odds and ends, none the less -valuable, perhaps, because they were small. I packed a lot of other -things into a sort of sheet which I slung over my shoulder. The girl -stowed as much as she could carry into the skirt of her queer -fashioned gown. She held it up as children do their pinafores. Out we -went into the night. - -As we hurried along my breath came faster even than the pace warranted -at the thought of being alone in the darkness with her. - -We went some way before a word was spoken. Then I asked a question. - -“Do you want to go to England?” - -“Want!” She gave a sigh, as of longing. “I have wanted ever since I -was born.” - -“Then you shall go whoever has to stay behind.” - -“Stay behind--how do you mean?” She seemed to read in my words a -hidden significance. “My father must go. If he stays I stay also.” - -“Is he really your father?” - -“Of course he is my father. My mother was one of the women of the -country. They burned her when I was born.” - -“Burned her?” - -“As a thank offering for having borne unto the Great Joss a child.” - -She spoke in the most matter-of-fact tone. I wondered what sort of -place this was I had got into, whether the people hereabouts were men -or demons. She went on quietly. - -“My father is the Great Joss. It was a great thing to the people that -a woman should have borne to him a child.” - -“A child who was a goddess.” - -I was ashamed of myself directly the words were uttered. It seemed to -be taking an unfair advantage to say things to her like that. But she -didn’t seem to mind. - -“A goddess? That is what men worship.” - -“Just so. That is what men worship.” - -She laughed to herself softly, so that only I, who was close at her -side, could hear. There was that in the sound which set my blood on -fire. - -“If I am a goddess, whom you worship, then you must be god, and I must -worship you. Shall it be?” - -I did not answer. Whether she was playing with me I could not tell. I -knew all the while that it was just as likely. But there was something -in the question, and in the way in which she asked it, which put all -my senses in confusion. It was a wonder I didn’t come a dozen times to -the ground. My wits were wandering. We exchanged not another syllable. -I had lost my tongue. - -As we neared Rudd he challenged us. - -“Who comes there?” - -“It’s all right, Rudd; it’s I.” He was plainly surprised at the sight -of my companion. But, being a discreet soul, asked no questions. -Perhaps he had already concluded--being quite capable of drawing -deductions on his own account--that queer things were in the air. -“Stay where you are. I shall be back in a minute and shall want you. -I’m going to fetch the men out of the boat. There’s a job of work on -hand.” - -We ran down the slope. Found the boat where I had left it. Deposited -in it the things which we had brought away with us; no one offering a -comment. As I unloaded I gave hurried instructions. In certainly not -much more that the minute of which I had spoken to Rudd we were -starting back to him. One man we left in the boat; five we took with -us. Of their quality in a scrimmage I knew nothing; but, as I had -suspected, each had brought with him something with which to make his -mark in case of ructions. If one might judge from their demeanour the -suggestion that there might be friction ahead seemed to give them -satisfaction rather than otherwise. Especially when I added a hint -that there was plunder to be got by those who cared to get it. They -put no inconvenient inquiries. Whose property it might chance to be -was their captain’s affair not theirs. For once in a way they -recognised the force of the fact that it was theirs only to obey. - -All they wanted was a share of the spoil. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - THE JOSS REVERTS. - -We passed through the forest in single file; the girl first, I next; -the men hard upon each other’s heels. We found Luke apparently alone. -I thought that the Joss had returned for some purpose to the temple. - -“What’s he gone for?” I asked. - -Luke made a movement with his forefinger, suggesting caution. He spoke -in a hoarse whisper. - -“He’s not gone; he’s there--in the palanquin.” His voice sank lower. -“I rather fancy that he don’t want to be looked at more than he can -help. Poor chap! he feels that, to look at, he ain’t the man as once -he was.” - -Luke grinned. Sympathy did not go very deep with him. - -The palanquin was drawn out upon the floor. The girl stooped over it. - -“Father!” A voice proceeded from within--a surly voice:-- - -“I’m here all right; don’t let’s have any nonsense. Tell ’em to be -careful how they carry me; I don’t want to be jolted to bits by a lot -of awkward fools. They’re to hurry for all that; those devils may be -back at any minute. We’ve arranged the things as best we can; Luke -will tell them what’s to be taken first.” - -Luke volunteered to be one of the palanquin bearers, suggesting that -Isaac Rudd should be the other. Isaac glanced doubtfully towards me. - -“It’s all right, Mr. Rudd. There’s a friend of mine in there, an -invalid, who is not able to walk very well over uneven ground. If you -will assist Mr. Luke, I’ll be obliged. You’ll find that you’ll be able -to carry him very easily between you.” - -Isaac expressed his willingness to lend a hand, though I could see -that he still had his doubts as to what was in the palanquin. To be -frank, I was doubtful too. I wondered what it contained besides -Benjamin Batters. - -Luke and his friend, considering the short time they had had at their -disposal, had put the goods into convenient form for transit. Some had -been packed in wooden cases, some in bundles, some in sacks. Each man -took as much as he could carry--inquiring of himself, I make no doubt, -what it was that he was bearing. I took my share. The girl took hers. -Luke and Rudd shouldered the palanquin; the second in front, the first -behind--Luke taking up his position in the rear, so that he might the -more easily, if necessary, hold communication with its occupant. - -The procession started. The girl was its guide, now in advance, now at -the palanquin side holding converse with her father. I gathered from -what I heard that he was not in the sweetest temper. Luke and Rudd -were not practised bearers. The way was difficult. The light trying. -Now and then one or the other would stumble. The palanquin was jolted. -From its interior issued a curse which, if not loud, was deep and -strong. - -We reached the open on the crest of the slope without interruption. I -was beginning to conclude that, consciously or unconsciously, Batters -had exaggerated the danger which would attend his attempt at flight. -We had borne him away if not in triumph, at least with impunity; -looted the temple of its best belongings; no one had endeavoured to -say us nay. It might be almost worth our while to return for what we -had left behind. Actual peril there appeared to be none. No one seemed -cognisant of what was going on, or seemed to care. If the temple -itself had been portable, we might have carried it away entire; the -result apparently would have been the same. - -Thinking such thoughts I watched Luke and Rudd go swinging down the -slope in the moonlight. I almost suspected them of intentional -awkwardness; they treated that palanquin to such a continuous shaking. -Its occupant must have been gripping the sides with his huge hands, or -surely he would have been dislodged and shot on to the ground. With a -stream of adjectives he enlivened the proceedings. - -“Small blame to him,” said I to myself. “If jolting’s good for the -liver, as I’ve heard, he’ll have had a good dose of the medicine -before he’s through. If swearing ’ll make it easier, for the Lord’s -sake let him swear.” - -And he swore. And right in the middle of about as full flavoured a -string of observations as I had ever heard there arose a wild cry from -the forest behind us. In a second the Joss’ head appeared between the -curtains. - -“Quick! quick! It’s the devils--the devils!” - -It needed no urging from me--or from him either--to induce everyone -concerned to quicken his pace. On a sudden the forest where, a moment -back, had reigned the silence of the grave, was now alive with shouts -and noises. People were shrieking. What sounded like drums were being -banged. Guns were being fired. The Great Joss’ absence was discovered. -Possibly the absence of a good deal of valuable property had been -discovered too. The alarm was being given. The priests--those pious -souls who had burned the girl’s mother alive as a reward for having -borne the Great Joss a child!--were warning the country far and wide -of what had happened. In a few minutes the whole countryside would be -upon us. - -I don’t fancy the fighting instinct was very hot in any of us just -then. There was something ominous about that din. We were few. The -proceedings on which we were engaged might appear odd regarded from a -certain point of view. Fortunately, we were near the boat. - -As luck would have it, when he was within a dozen paces of the water’s -edge, Luke, tripping over a bush, or something, dropped on to his -knee. The palanquin, torn from Isaac’s shoulders, descended to the -ground with a crash. What were Mr. Batters’ feelings I am unable to -say. I expected to see him shot through the roof, like a -jack-in-the-box. But he wasn’t. So far as I could tell in the haste -and confusion he was silent. Which was ominous. The girl sank down -beside the fallen palanquin with the evident intention of offering -words of comfort to her revered, though maltreated, parent. - -Before she had a chance of saying a word Luke had righted himself. -Rudd had regained possession of the end which he had lost. Mr. Batters -inside might be dead. That was a matter of comparative indifference. -No inquiries were made. Somehow the palanquin was being borne towards -the boat. Of exactly what took place during the next few minutes I -have only vague impressions. I know that the palanquin was got into -the boat somehow, with the Great Joss, or what was left of him, still -inside. The men, disposing of their burdens anywhere or anyhow, began -to get out their oars. I dropped my loot somewhere aft. The boat was -got afloat. The girl--who had all at once got as frightened of the sea -as a two-year-old child--I lifted in my arms, carried through three -feet of water, and put aboard. I followed. - -A wild-looking figure came tearing after us down the slope. There were -others, but he was in front, and I noticed him particularly. He was a -tall, thin old party, dressed in yellow, with a bald head, and a face -that looked like a corpse’s in the moonlight. It was yellow, like his -dress. As wicked a physiognomy as ever I set eyes upon. He was in a -towering rage. When he got down to the shore we were in deep water, -perhaps twenty yards away. He seemed so anxious to get at us I -expected to see him start swimming after us. Not a bit of it. I rather -imagine that the people just thereabouts were not fond of water in any -form. He refused to allow the sea to damp so much as the tips of his -toes. He screamed at us instead--to my surprise, in English--not bad -English either. - -“The Joss! The Great Joss! Give us back our Joss!” - -“Wouldn’t you like it?” I returned. - -I wasn’t over civil, not liking his looks. I wondered if he had had a -hand in burning the girl’s mother. He looked that sort of man. - -He raised his hands above his head and cursed us. He looked a quaint -figure, standing there in the moon’s white rays. And ugly too. -Dangerous if he had a chance. His voice was not a loud one, but he had -a trick of getting it to travel. - -“You dog! you thief! you accursed! you have stolen from us the Great -Joss! But do not think that you can keep him. Wherever you may take -him, though it be across the black water, to the land beyond the sun, -we will follow. He shall be ours again. As for you, the flesh shall -fall from off you; the foul waters shall rot your bones; you shall -stink! Mocker of the gods!” - -There was a good deal more of it. He continued his observations till -we were out of hearing. Repeating that he would follow us pretty well -everywhere before he would allow that Great Joss to be a bad debt. -Though he was a barbarian and loose in his geography, it struck me -that he meant what he said. If he could have laid his hands on me, and -have had me in a position where I couldn’t have laid mine on him, I -should have had a nice little experience before he’d done. That was -the kind of mood he was in. - -Long before he had said all that he had to say he was joined by quite -a crowd. When he had about cursed himself out, he started on a funny -little entertainment of another kind. He made a fire close down by the -sea. His friends formed about it in a circle. He stood in the centre. -As the flames rose and fell he dropped things on them, stuff which -smoked and burned in different colours. The sort of rubbish which boys -in England buy in ha’porths and penn’orths, and make themselves a -nuisance with. Possibly, out there it costs more, so is thought a lot -of. As he put his rubbish on his fire, his friends moved round first -one way and then the other, behaving themselves generally like -fantastic idiots. And he threw himself into attitudes which would have -been a photographer’s joy. I had an impression that he was calling -down the wrath of the gods upon our heads, and doing it in style. - -Our return to the ship created a good deal of excitement. One might -lay long odds that every man on board had been watching, for all that -he was worth, whatever there was to watch, without being able to make -head or tail of what he had seen. So that our arrival just gave the -final touch to the general curiosity. - -The things, whose departure those gentlemen on shore were weeping for, -were got on board. The Great Joss wanted to be hoisted up in his -palanquin. When I pointed out that there were obstacles in the way, he -came out of it with a rush and shinned up the ship’s side like a -monkey. His appearance on deck made things lively. The men took him -for the devil, and shrank from him as such. Not wanting any more fuss -than might be helped, I led the way down the companion as fast as I -could. He came after me. Goodness alone knows how. It seemed to me he -was as handy on no legs as some people upon two. His daughter -followed. - -I had been turning matters over in my mind coming along. There had -never been such a thing as a passenger known on _The Flying Scud_. At -that moment there was a vacant two-berth cabin suited to people who -might not be over and above particular. The Great Joss and his friend -Luke should have it. The Great Joss’ daughter should have Luke’s -quarters. - -When Luke appeared he professed himself agreeable. Indeed, too -agreeable. There was an eagerness about the way in which he snatched -at my suggestion which made me thoughtful even in that first moment. -It was against nature that a man should be half beside himself with -delight at the prospect of being berthed with such a monster. As I -eyed Luke, noting the satisfaction which he was unable to conceal, I -wondered what was at the back of it. - -However, so things were settled. Mr. Batters and the first mate were -placed together. Miss Batters had the first mate’s quarters. - -When I got on deck again land was out of sight: I was disposed for -solitude and a quiet think. But I wasn’t to have them. I soon became -conscious that Isaac Rudd was taking peeps at me. He kept coming up -out of the engine room, an oily rag in his hand, and a sort of air -about him as if he wondered when I proposed to speak to him. At last I -took the hint. - -“Well, Mr. Rudd, what is it?” - -He came up, wiping his paws with his oily rag. His manner was -sententious. - -“I thought, sir, that you might have something which you wished to say -to me.” - -“About what?” - -“This little game.” - -“What little game?” - -“The one we’ve just been playing. You see we’ve all been taking a hand -in it, and there’s a kind of feeling aboard this ship that there might -be something a little delicate about it, which might bring us into -trouble before we’ve done. And no man likes to take a risk--for -nothing.” - -“I see. That’s it. You know me, and you know that I’m as good as my -word. You may tell the men from me that if the venture is brought -safely into port, and turns out what I expect, it will be twenty-five -pounds in the pockets of every man on board this ship, and a hundred -for each officer.” - -“And what for the first engineer?” With that confounded oil rag of his -he wiped his scrubby chin. “I’m thinking that, under the -circumstances, I shouldn’t like to guarantee that the engines ’ll last -out for a hundred pounds. They’re just a lot of bits of iron tied -together with scraps of string. To keep them going will mean sleepless -nights.” - -I laughed. - -“Are they so bad as that? I’m sorry to hear it, Mr. Rudd. Rudd, you’re -a blackguard. You want to rob your captain--and the owners.” - -“Damn the owners!” - -“That’s against Scripture. An owner’s always blessed.” - -“He’ll never be upon the other side if he sends a ship to sea with -such engines as we have.” - -“They are a trial, aren’t they, Rudd?” - -“They’re that.” - -“So I think we may say that, under the circumstances, if the engines -do last out, it will mean five hundred pounds in the pocket of the -chief engineer.” - -“Five hundred pounds? I’m not denying it’s an agreeable sum. I’d like -to handle it. And it’ll be no fault of mine if the machine blows up -before it’s just convenient. There’s just one other question I’d like -to put to you. Is it the devil that we’ve took aboard?” - -“It’s not. But it’s something that’s seen the devil face to face, and -tasted of hell fire.” - -Turning on my heel I left Isaac to make of my words what he could. A -variety of matters demanded my immediate consideration. I had pledged -my word that every man on board that ship should, in case of a certain -eventuality, receive a definite sum of money. The promise was perhaps -a rash one. But there was reason behind it. It would have to be kept. -Then there were the owners to be considered--and myself. - -Where were the funds to come from with which to do these things? What -would they amount to, leaving fancy figures out. I should have to have -a clear understanding with the Great Joss. The sooner the better, -while I still, as it were, had a pull on him. Isaac Rudd had lost no -time. Neither would I. - -I went down the companion ladder to have that understanding. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - THE FATHER--AND HIS CHILD. - -The cabin door was fastened. I rapped. Luke inquired from within-- - -“Who’s there?” - -“I! Open the door.” So far as I could judge no attempt was made to do -as I requested. There were whispers instead. The voices were audible -though the words were not. I rapped again. “Do you hear? open this -door!” - -Luke replied. - -“Beggin’ your pardon, captain, but Mr. Batters isn’t feeling very -well. He hopes that you’ll excuse him.” - -A louder rapping. - -“Open this door.” - -There were sounds which suggested that something was being done in a -hurry; an exchange of what were apparently expostulatory murmurs. Then -the Great Joss spoke. - -“This is my cabin, Captain Lander----” - -I cut him short. - -“Your cabin!” I brought my fist against the door with a bang. “If you -don’t open at once, I’ll have the ship put about, take you back from -where you came, and dump you on shore. I’m in command here, and all -the cabins in this ship are mine. Now, which is it to be--open?--or -back?” - -Luke began to mutter excuses. - -“If you’ll just wait five minutes, captain----” - -I felt convinced that they were doing something they didn’t wish me to -see, and which was highly desirable that I should see. I didn’t wait -for Luke to finish. I just planted my shoulder against the door, and -heaved. It leaped open. I had counted on the fastenings being rickety. -There was Luke and the Great Joss with their hands full of papers and -things which they had evidently just been attempting to conceal. The -girl stood looking on. I took off my cap to her. - -“Miss Batters, I wish to speak to your father in private. Might I ask -you to leave us.” She went without a word. I turned to Luke. “Mr. -Luke, go up on deck, and wait there till I come.” - -There was an ugly look on his face. - -“If you don’t mind, captain, I should just like----” - -“Do as I tell you, sir or you cease to be an officer on board this -ship.” He saw that I meant business; moved towards the door. “You -needn’t trouble to take those things with you.” - -“Put them down, you fool,” growled Mr. Batters. - -Luke put them down, and departed, not looking exactly pretty. When he -had gone, pushing the door to I stood with my back against it. The -Great Joss and I exchanged glances. He spoke first. - -“You’ve a queer way of doing things.” - -“I have. Of which fact your presence here is an illustration.” - -“I’ve not shipped as one of your crew. I’m a passenger.” - -“At present. Whether you continue to be so depends on one or two -things. One is that you behave. You come from a place where there are -some queer customs.” - -“What do you mean by that?” - -“What I say.” He winced in a fashion I did not understand, causing me -to surmise that the customs in question might be even queerer than I -supposed. “The first time, Mr. Batters, you show disrespect for any -orders I may give, or wishes I may express, the ship goes round--you -go back. I fancy your friends will be glad to receive you back among -them.” - -He glared at me with his one eye in a manner I did not altogether -relish. There was an uncanniness about his looks, his ways, his every -movement. As he confronted me, squatted on the floor, he was the most -repulsive-looking object I had ever seen. It was hard to believe that -such a creature could be human. And English! The sight of him filled -me with a sense of nausea. I hastened to go on. - -“There is another point on which your continuance as a passenger -depends. What do you propose to pay for your passage?” - -“I’ve told you--halves.” - -“That is too indefinite. I want something more definite. Moreover, it -is the rule for passage money to be paid in advance.” - -“If you prefer that way of doing business you shall have a hundred -pounds apiece for us, and I’ll give you the money now.” - -“Is that all? Then the ship goes round.” - -“You shall have more if you’ll only wait.” - -“How long?” - -“Till I’ve had time to look about me. You can’t expect me to have -everything cut and dried before I’ve been on board ten minutes. You -see these things?” I did. They were everywhere. I wondered where Luke -and he proposed to sleep. “They’re worth a million pounds.” - -“Nonsense!” - -“It’s not nonsense, you----fool.” - -The opprobrious epithet was seasoned with a profusion of adjectives. - -“Mr. Batters, that is not the way in which to address the commander of -a ship. As I see that you and I are not likely to understand each -other I will give instructions to put the ship about at once, and take -you back. It’s plain I made a mistake in having anything to do with -you.” - -I made as if to go. - -“Stop, you idiot!” - -“Mr. Batters? What did you observe?” - -“I apologise! I apologise! What you say is right. I have been used to -rummy ways. I can’t slough ’em at sight. Even a snake takes time to -change its skin. But when you talk about the value I set on the things -I’ve got here being nonsense, it’s you who’re mistaken, not me. Look -at that!” - -He held up a hideous-looking image. I took it from him, to find it -heavier than I had expected. - -“That’s gold--solid. Weighs every bit of twenty pounds, sixteen ounces -to the pound. It’s got diamonds for eyes, twenty-five or thirty carats -apiece; pearls for teeth, and its forehead is studded with opals. The -stones in the rings, bracelets, and bangles are all real. I tell you -what you’re holding in your hands is not worth far short of fifty -thousand pounds.” - -“It may be so. I’m no judge of such things. But what proof have I of -the correctness of your statements?” - -“That’s it; what proof have you? You’ve only my word. You may cut my -heart out if I’m wrong. And what I say is this. When we get to London -we’ll have them all sold, or else valued--whichever you please. You -shall either have half the things--toss for first choice, then choose -turn and turn about; or half of whatever they fetch.” - -“You’ll give me a written undertaking to that effect?” - -“I will.” - -“And I can take an inventory of everything you have?” - -“If you like.” - -“And remove them to my cabin for safer custody?” - -“If you think that they will be safer there. You can stow ’em in the -hold for all I mind. All I want is for them to be safe, and have my -fair half. Only I don’t see what harm they’ll do in here, except that -you’ve bursted off the lock, which is a thing as can be replaced. I’m -not likely to leave the ship, and I’ll watch it that they don’t go -without me.” - -There seemed reason in what he said. It sounded fair; above-board -enough. Though every pulse shrunk from his near neighbourhood, crying -out that there was that about him which was good neither for man nor -beast, I could not but admit to myself that this was so. - -I was still holding in my hand the obscene image which, according to -him, was worth fifty thousand pounds. I had been watching Mr. Batters. -Glancing from him to it I saw that, perched upon its head, was a -little doll-like looking figure, as long, perhaps, as my middle -finger. It was not there a second before. I wondered whence it came, -how it retained its place. - -“What’s this?” I asked. - -“That?” There was a curious something in Mr. Batters’ tone which set -my nerves all jangling. “Where I’ve been they call that the God of -Fortune. It’s my very own god. It watches over me. When you see it I’m -never far away.” - -I reached out my disengaged hand to take hold of it for examination. -But I seemed to have grown dizzy all of a sudden, and clumsy. It must -have been because I was clumsy that, instead of grasping it, I knocked -it off its perch. It fell to the floor. I stooped to pick it up. - -“I don’t think you’ll find it. I expect it’s gone.” - -It did seem to have gone. Or perhaps my sudden dizziness prevented my -seeing so small an object in the imperfect light. I certainly did feel -strangely giddy. So overpowered was I by most unusual sensations that, -yielding the £50,000 horror into Mr. Batters’ outstretched hand, -almost before I knew I found myself on the other side of the cabin -door. - -I staggered up on deck. The night air did me good. I drew great -breaths. The giddiness passed. I began to ask myself what could have -caused it. Had Mr. Batters been practising a little hocus pocus? -Playing up to the part of the Great Joss? If I had been sure, I would -have put the ship about right there and then. Back he should have -gone, to play the part out to the end. - -Luke hailed me. - -“Beggin’ pardon, captain, but may I go below? Mine’s the next watch. I -should like a wink of sleep.” - -“You may. A word with you before you go. You got me into this -business. I’m not sure I thank you. What do you know about this man -Batters?” - -He looked up at the stars, as if for an answer to my question. - -“Him and me was boys together.” - -“And since?” - -“We’ve come across each other once or twice. But it’s half a lifetime -since we met.” - -“You seem to have recognised each other pretty quickly when you did -meet.” - -“He knew me. I didn’t know him. And never should have done--never. I -can’t hardly believe now it’s the Ben Batters I used to know. Only -he’s proved it.” - -“How came he to be what he is?” - -“That’s more than I can say. He hasn’t told me no more than he’s told -you. He always was a hot ’un, Ben was. Bound to get into a mess before -he’d done. Always a-fightin’. But I never thought he’d have come to -this. Fine figure of a man he used to be. They must have took the skin -right off him--used him something cruel.” - -I shuddered at the thought. Better to have died a dozen deaths. - -“Do you think he’s to be trusted?” - -“Well--as for trustin’--that depends. Seems to me no one’s to be -trusted more than you can help.” - -I felt, as he went, that he had summed up his own philosophy. He -trusted no one. It was the part of wisdom for no one to trust him. I -wished that, in my haste, I hadn’t berthed the two together. The first -excuse which offered Luke should be shifted. I did not like the notion -of such a pair hobnobbing. The stake was too big. - -Someone touched me on the arm. It was the girl. - -“Miss Batters! You ought to be in your berth. It’s late.” - -Her answer surprised me. - -“I’m afraid.” - -She stood so close that I could hear a little fluttering noise in her -throat, as if she found it hard to breathe. I wondered if she was -affected by the motion. She did not look as if she were. She was -straight as a dart. And beautiful. - -“Afraid? Of what?” - -“Of the water. There is trouble on the sea. Evil spirits live on it.” - -“You needn’t be afraid of evil spirits while you’re with me. Who’s put -such notions into your head? English girls aren’t afraid of the sea. -And you are English.” - -“Is it alive?” - -“Is what alive?” - -“The ship?” - -“The ship!” - -“What makes it go? It rushes through the water; it trembles, I feel it -trembling beneath my feet; it makes a noise.” - -“Those are the engines.” - -“The engines? Are they alive?” - -“Alive? Yes, while Mr. Rudd and his friends keep feeding them they’re -alive. Come and have a look at them.” - -“No. I dare not. I’m afraid.” - -“There’s nothing to be afraid of. This is a steamer. The engines drive -it along. Don’t you know what a steamer is? Haven’t you ever heard of -one?” - -She shook her head. I didn’t know what to make of her. Her ignorance -was something beyond my experience. Presently she was off on a fresh -tack. - -“Is England far?” - -“Pretty well. If we’ve luck we shall get there in about a month.” - -“A month?--four weeks?” I nodded. “I cannot live--four weeks--upon the -sea!” - -She gave what seemed to me to be a gasp of horror. - -“Oh, yes, you can. You’ll get to love it before you’ve done.” - -“Love it! Love the sea! No one ever loves the sea.” - -“Don’t they? That’s where you’re wrong. I do, for one.” - -“My lord!” - -All in a second down she flopped upon the deck. I was never so -flummoxed in my life. I couldn’t think what was wrong. - -“Miss Batters! What is wrong?” - -She turned her lovely face up to me--still on her knees. - -“Are you the lord of the sea?” - -“The lord of the sea! For goodness sake get up. The watch ’ll think -you’re mad. Or that I’m threatening to murder you.” I had to lift her -before she’d move. Then she seemed reluctant to stand upright in my -august presence. I tried my best to disabuse her mind of some of her -wild notions. “I’m a plain sailor man, I am. I’ve sailed the sea, boy -and man, the best part of my life; east and west, north and south. And -though I don’t mind owning I like a spell of dry land for a change, it -would be strange if I hadn’t grown to love it. I’m ready to grumble at -it with any man. I’m no more lord of the sea than you are. I’m just -captain of this ship. That’s all.” - -“You are the captain of this ship.” - -“That’s it, Miss Batters.” - -“Why do you call me that?” - -“Call you what?” - -“Miss Batters. I am not Miss Batters. I am Susan.” - -I had been looking away. When she said that I looked at her. I wished -I hadn’t. There was something on her face--in her eyes--which set me -all of a flutter. Something had come to me since I had entered those -waters. I didn’t use to be easily upset. I couldn’t make it out at -all. I couldn’t meet her glance, but looked down, smoothing the deck -with the toe of my shoe, not recognising the sound of my own voice -when I heard it. - -“I don’t know that I quite care for the name of Susan. I think I -prefer--Susie.” - -“Susie? What is that?” - -“That--that’s the name your friends will call you.” - -“My friends?” She gave another little gasp. “Susie?” To hear her say -it! “But I have no friends.” - -“You will have; heaps.” - -“But I have none now. Not one.” - -“Well----” - -I cleared my throat. I had never been so stuck for a word before. -Could have kicked myself for being such a fool. She took my -clownishness as implying a reproach. I could tell it from her tone. - -“No. I have no friend. Not one.” - -I made another effort. I wasn’t lacking as a rule. I couldn’t -understand what ailed me then. - -“Well, it’s early days for me to speak of friendship, since I’ve only -known you for an hour or two; but if I might make so bold, Miss -Batters----” - -“Miss Batters!” She stamped her foot, her little bare foot. “I am not -Miss Batters. I am Susie.” Her tone had changed with a vengeance. Her -manner too. She was every inch a queen. A few feet more. “Can I not be -Susie to you?” - -I turned away. I only wanted to get hold of myself. She put my head in -such a whirl. But before I had a chance of finding out whereabouts I -was her voice rang out like a boatswain’s whistle. - -“I hate sailor men.” I turned again to stare. “And I hate the sea!” - -Before I could slip a word in edgeways she had swung herself round and -vanished down the companion ladder. I took off my cap to wipe my -forehead. Though the night was cool my brow was damp with sweat. - -“This is going to be a lively voyage, on my word!” - -I had never said a truer thing since the day that I was born. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - THE MORNING’S NEWS. - -It was a lively voyage! Oh, yes! For those who like that kind of -liveliness. - -Everything went wrong, just in the old sweet way. Rudd had to sleep -with his engines. As sure as he turned his back on them for five -consecutive minutes something happened. I began to wonder if we -shouldn’t have got on faster if we had had sweeps aboard. You don’t -often see hands starting to row a steamer along. But anything was -better than standing still; or being blown back--which was worse. It -was no use rigging a sail against the winds we had, or we might have -tried that. But the wind was against us, like everything else. - -The weather seemed to have cleared on purpose to give us a chance of -getting the Great Joss aboard. It broke again directly afterwards. -More than once, and more than twice, I wished it hadn’t. Then perhaps -we shouldn’t have been favoured with the company of Mr. Batters. In -shipping him we’d shipped a Tartar. I became inclined to the belief -that we owed half of our bad luck to him. The crew was dead sure that -at his door could be laid the lot of it. They swore he was the devil -himself, or his brother. - -I wasn’t sure they were far out. Either what he had gone through had -affected his brain, or he was possessed by the spirit of mischief, or -there was something uncanny about him. I never knew anything like the -tricks he was up to. Weather had no effect on him. As for decent -hours, he scorned them. It’s my belief that what sleep he had was in -the day. I know he was awake pretty well all night. - -Once I was dragged out of my berth in the middle of the night because -he was frightening the watch out of their senses. When I got on deck I -found a heavy sea. Everything sopping. The seas breaking over the -scuppers. Pitch darkness. And Mr. Batters up in the tops. The crew -were of opinion that he was holding communion with his friends in -hell. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He looked as if he was at -something of the kind. - -How he kept his place was a wonder. Although he had no legs he seemed -to have a knack of gluing himself to whatever he pleased. Up there he -had an illumination all on his own. It must have been visible for -miles across the sea. He had smeared himself and everything about him -with something shiny, phosphorus or something. He always was playing -tricks with stuffs of the kind. It made him look as if he was covered -with flames. He was waving his arms and going through an acrobatic -performance. Snakes were twining themselves about the illuminated -rigging. The old villain had smuggled a heap of them in his palanquin. -He lived with them as if they were members of his family. They seemed -to regard him as akin. Talk about snake charming! I believe that at a -word from him they would have flown at anyone just as certainly as a -dog would have done. - -No wonder the watch didn’t altogether relish his proceedings. I sang -out: - -“Come down out of that, Mr. Batters, before there’s trouble.” - -I did put a bullet into one of his precious snakes. It was this way. - -I had a revolver in my hand. The boat gave a lurch. The trigger must -have caught my coat sleeve. It snapped. There was a flash. A report. -One of his snakes straightened itself out against the blackness like a -streaming ribbon. You could see it gleam for a moment. Then it -vanished. I suppose it dropped into the sea. A good thing too. The -idea was that it had been hit by that unintentional shot. I can only -say that if that was the case it was the victim of something very like -a miracle. - -Old Batters understood what had happened long before I did. He came -down that rigging like ten mad monkeys. And he went for me like -twenty. If the watch hadn’t been there he’d have sent me after that -snake. It took the lot of us to get the best of him. If the men had -had their way they’d have dropped him overboard. - -I wished I had let them before I finished. - -A more artful old dodger never breathed. I drew up the agreement of -the spoils; but it was days before I could get him to set his hand to -it. At first he pretended he couldn’t write. As it happened I had seen -him write. It seemed to me he was always writing. When at last I had -induced him to sign, in the presence of Luke, Rudd, and Holley, he -eluded me on the subject of the inventory. I could not get one. His -stock of excuses was inexhaustible. And they were all so plausible. It -is true that I made notes of a good many things without his knowledge. -But a formal inventory I never had. As to my suggestion that at least -the more valuable things should be removed to my cabin for safe -custody, when I renewed it he expressed his willingness on conditions -that he went with them, and his snakes. I declined. On those terms I -preferred that he should remain custodian. - -Then there was his intimacy with Luke. That continued, in spite of my -attempts to stop it. Though they grew slacker when I began to suspect -that after all Mr. Luke might not be on such good terms with his -boyhood’s friend as he perhaps desired. - -I got my first hint in this direction when, one afternoon, someone was -heard bellowing in Mr. Batters’ cabin like a bull. I made for it. I -found Mr. Luke upon the floor; his friend upon his chest; his friend’s -hands about his throat. He was not bellowing just then. Mr. Batters -had squeezed the grip right out of him. He was purple. In about -another minute he would have known what death by strangulation meant. -We got his dear friend off him. The dear friend said unkind things -about Mr. Luke. - -By the time we had brought the first mate round he was about as limp a -man as you might wish to see. He made one remark, which was -unprintable. He turned round in his bunk, where we had laid him, and -for all I know he went to sleep. - -Since, before that, I had taken care to see that he was berthed apart -from Mr. Batters, there was nothing to disturb his slumber. - -After that I did not feel it necessary to keep quite so sharp an eye -on the attentions which he paid our passenger. They did not seem to be -so friendly as they had been before. - -As if I hadn’t enough to plague me, there was the girl. When I begin -to write of her my language becomes mixed. As were my feelings at the -time. And there were moments when she got me into such a state that I -didn’t know if I was standing on my head or heels. - -She was her father’s own child, though it seemed like sacrilege to -connect the two. Insubordination wasn’t in it along with her. She -twisted me round her finger. Except when I stiffened my back, and felt -like stowing her in the long-boat, and cutting it adrift, with a bag -of biscuit and a can of water. And then five minutes afterwards I’d -feel like suicide for ever having thought of such a thing. - -She wore me to a shadow. - -The sea agreed with her far better than I had expected, or she either, -especially considering the weather we had. She was all over the boat. -All questions, like a child. There was nothing you could tell her -enough about. It was extraordinary how the taste for imparting -information grew on one. If you didn’t explain everything that could -be explained, and a good deal that couldn’t, it wasn’t for want of -trying. She had got together a mixed up lot of facts before she had -been upon that vessel long. Because when you begin to look into things -you find that there are a good many you think you know all about till -a sharp-witted young woman starts you on to telling her all you do -know. Then, before you’ve time to wriggle, you are stuck. There are -men who sooner than get that will say anything. - -It is bad enough to feel you are making a fool of yourself when the -subject is why steamers don’t sink when they’re floating, or why -engines shove them along, or that kind of thing. But when the -question’s what love is, and you feel but can’t tell, it’s worse. - -“Why do you say you love me?” - -I had mentioned to her casually that I did, being driven clean off my -balance before I knew it, though I meant every word I had said. And -about two hundred thousand more. In spite of my having had more -trouble with her old villain of a father that very afternoon. And -being full of hope that when it came to hanging him I should be there -to see. - -“Because I do.” - -“But what is love?” - -“Love? Why, love!” - -It was evening. The wind had been falling away all day. Now it was -dead calm, the first we had had since shipping Batters. We were -something over twelve hundred miles from Aden. There’s the exact spot -marked on my chart. But I should never forget it if it wasn’t. That -mark means adjectives. I had had it all out with Batters about our -route. The short cut was what he wanted. It was what I wanted too. But -what I did not want was to pay the Canal dues. In fact I couldn’t. -There was not enough money belonging to the ship on board. I hadn’t -told Batters as much as that, but I had made it clear to him that he’d -have to pay. So the arrangement stood that we were to come home by -Suez; and he was to hand me over the coin to take us through. We -should have to coal at Aden. How we had managed so far was beyond my -understanding. Rudd was a marvel. He would make a skip of coal go as -far as some men would a ton. Stores we had taken in here a little, and -there a little, living from hand to mouth. But we had bought no coal. -I had said to Rudd: - -“Shall we run into Colombo and have some put into our bunkers there?” - -He pondered--it was his way to ponder--then shook his head. - -“I’m thinking we’ll last to Aden. I’m thinking it. And I don’t seem to -fancy a stop at Colombo with Mr. Batters aboard.” - -I looked to see from his face if his words had any hidden meaning. -There seemed to be something behind everything he said, till you grew -tired of trying to find out what it was. He was always dropping hints, -was Rudd. There appeared to be nothing unusual about his -wooden-looking countenance. So I concluded to give his words their -dictionary meaning. - -“If you think we can last to Aden, we will. It will save time. And -coal’s cheaper there.” - -So it was settled. And now we were heading straight for Aden. The -weather had cleared. I had told that girl I loved her. Every vein in -my body was on fire because of it. Luke was on the bridge. I felt that -in spite of the darkness, and it was pretty dark--as well I -remember!--his eye was on us as much as on the ship’s course. We had -been walking up and down for exercise. She was leaning over the -taffrail apparently preparing to enter on a kind of philosophical -discussion about what love was. - -“Is it good to love?” - -“That depends.” - -My tone was grim. - -“Do I love you?” - -“I should like to hear you say so.” - -“I love you.” - -I thought that was what she said. But she was leaning so far over, -seeming to be watching the smudge of soapsuds we were leaving behind -us, that I couldn’t quite catch her words. Though I was all of a -quiver to. - -“What do you say?” - -“I say I love you.” - -“Susie! Do you mean it?” - -“I don’t know. I don’t know what love is. How should I? I’m only a -savage. You said so the other day. I want telling things.” - -“You don’t want telling what love is.” - -“Do you mean that you don’t want to tell me? You never will tell me -what I really want to know. I’ll ask one of the men. I’ll ask Luke. He -tells me things.” - -“Susie! Luke’s too fond of interfering in matters which are no -business of his. He’ll get himself into trouble before he’s done.” - -“Why?” - -“Don’t you dare to ask Luke what love is!” - -“Dare! I dare do anything. I’ll go and ask him now.” - -She’d have been off if I hadn’t caught her arm. - -“Susie! Don’t! For my sake!” - -“Then tell me!--tell me yourself!” - -Stamp went her foot. It was one of her favourite tricks. Directly she -lost patience down it went. - -“I’ll tell you, if you’ll give me time.” I tried to find the words, -but couldn’t. I held out my arms instead. “It’s this.” - -“What?” - -“Don’t you understand?” - -“What am I to understand?” - -“Don’t you understand that I want you to be my wife?” - -“Your wife! Your wife!” She spoke in a crescendo scale, as if I had -insulted her. “You said you were my friend!” - -“Don’t you understand that I want to be something more than your -friend?” - -“You want to beat me! to use me like a dog! to have me burned!” - -“Susie!” - -“My father said in England there were no wives.” - -“No wives in England? He--he was making fun of you.” - -“He was not making fun of me. He has told me all my life. When I asked -him why they burned my mother, he said because she was his wife. He is -an Englishman. In England they have no wives.” - -I had a glimpse of the confusion which was in her mind. But at that -moment I was incapable of straightening out the evil. - -“Your--your father’s was a peculiar case. There are wives in England.” - -“Is that true?” - -She thrust her face close to mine. She was terrifically in earnest. - -“It is perfectly true. They abound.” - -“Then I will not go to England.” - -“But--Susie!--you’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick. In--in -England a wife’s the man’s superior.” - -“It’s a lie. See how you stammer. You cannot lie like my father with -an even tongue. A wife is her husband’s slave. At his bidding she -fetches and she carries. He beats her as he beats his dog. When she -grows old he takes another. And she dies.” - -“My--my dear Susie, I assure you that that description doesn’t apply -to England. There, unless she’s a wife, a woman isn’t happy.” - -“Then in England women are more unhappy than in the country from which -I come. I will not go there. I will not go to any place where there -are wives.” - -She strode past me as I stared at her, thunderstruck. I continued -thunderstruck when she had gone. - -She had a deal to learn. - -That night I slept badly. In the morning I was roused by someone -hammering at the door. - -“Who’s there?” - -“It’s me, sir; Holley. The cutter’s gone.” - -“What!” - -“The cutter’s gone. And the watch is hocussed.” - -I was standing at the door in my nightshirt. - -“What the devil do you mean? Where’s Mr. Luke?” - -“He had the morning watch. He’s gone too. It’s his chaps as is -hocussed. Leastways, they’re lying on the deck like logs. And Mr. -Batters, he’s gone. And his things. His cabin’s stripped clean. And -his daughter, she’s gone.” - -“Holley!” - -I was thrusting myself into a pair of trousers. All of a sudden the -ship stopped dead, with an unpleasant shock. - -“What’s that? She can’t have struck!” - -I rushed up. Rudd met me. - -“I have to report to you, sir, that the engine’s ceased to work.” - -“Very well. Patch it up and start it again as soon as you can. It’s -not the first time it’s stopped.” - -“But I’m thinking it’ll be the last. Someone’s been playing tricks -with the machine. I’m fearing it’s Mr. Luke.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI. - THE TERMINATION OF THE VOYAGE OF “THE FLYING SCUD.” - -We had been completely done. So completely that it was some time -before I was able to realise that I had been diddled quite to that -extent. Not a detail had been overlooked. Mr. Batters and Mr. Luke had -gone conscientiously to work. They had been thorough. They had left us -the ship. That was about all. They would probably have taken that if -they had had any use for it. It seemed they hadn’t. If I could only -have laid hands on that latest thing in freaks, there would have been -one Joss less. I would willingly have made a Joss of Luke if I had -only had a chance. To have boiled, burned, and skinned him would have -been a pleasure. He should not only have been legless, he should have -been armless too. As for that girl, who didn’t want to go to a place -where there were any wives, she should have become acquainted with a -climate where there was something less agreeable. - -That was how I felt towards her at first. But after a while I came to -the conclusion that she had been under the domination of her father. -Hadn’t dared to call her soul her own. So anger turned to pity. I -would just simply take her to a place where there were wives. I’d let -her know what it felt like to be one. That would be punishment enough -for her. - -As for Luke and Batters! What wouldn’t I have given for a quiet half -hour with the pair, with boiling oil, branding irons, and everything -just handy. - -Mr. Luke must have stowed pretty well all our eatable stores inside -that cutter. As first mate, under peculiar circumstances, I had let -him do, in some respects, a good deal as he pleased. He had had the -run of the stores. He had not gone far from collaring the lot. It -seemed that certain of the hands had noticed him fiddling a good deal -with the cutter of late. Especially when he had been in charge of -either of the night watches. But, of course, they had said nothing to -me till it was too late, which was a pity. - -Mr. Batters had taken with him all the treasures of the temple. Those -offerings of the faithful, half of which were to have been mine. No -wonder he had not been of opinion that they would have been safer in -my cabin. And he pledged his word that he would make it his especial -business to see that not one of them left the ship until he did. That -elegant monster which he valued at £50,000 had gone. Even the -palanquin. Oh, it was pretty! - -Mr. Luke had made everything snug by generously treating the members -of the morning watch to a little drink directly they came on duty. -That drink was no doubt one of Mr. Batters’ concoctions. They -remembered no more so soon as they swallowed it. So for four hours Mr. -Luke had the deck to himself. No watch was kept. The wheel was lashed. -The cutter was filled with the treasures of the temple, then lowered. -Goodness and Mr. Luke alone know how. And it must be remembered that -Mr. Batters was an ingenious man. - -It was reported from the engine room that the order was received to -“Go slow.” Probably while _The Flying Scud_ went slow the cutter was -cast loose, with Mr. Batters and the girl inside it. Shortly -afterwards the order was changed to “Full steam ahead.” The inference -seems to be that immediately after giving that order the ingenious Mr. -Luke went overboard to join the cutter. And _The Flying Scud_ went -full steam ahead, with no one on the look-out. Under the -circumstances, it was, perhaps, just as well that the engines did -break down. - -It’s an elegant story for the commander of a ship to have to write. -Especially one with a clean certificate, and of sober habits. There we -were, without engines, without coal, without stores, without enough -cargo to act as ballast, about half-way between Aden and Colombo. We -were a mad ship’s company. For my own part I felt like cutting any -man’s throat, including my own. All that day we hung about, doing -nothing, except cursing. - -Towards night, the engines proving hopeless, we rigged a sail. There -was just about enough wind to laugh at us. So we let it laugh us -along. There was no Canal for us. The man who was to have paid our -shot had gone--the shot with him. So we headed for the Cape. The long -way round was the only way for us. Engineless, the prospect was -inviting. - -There is no need to speak in detail of the remainder of that voyage, -no need at all. In one sense it was over--quite. In another it was -only just beginning. I won’t say how long it took us to reach home or -what we suffered before we got there. And will only hint that by the -time we sighted English waters, I felt as if I was a twin brother of -Methuselah’s. We hadn’t walked the entire distance, but we might -almost just as well have done. - -It was evening when I landed. There was a mist in the river. A -drizzling rain was falling. Appropriate weather with which to bid us -welcome home. The lights of London gleamed dimly through the fog and -wet. So soon as I had set foot on land I saw, coming at me through the -uncertain light, the individual who, as he stood with his friends upon -that moonlit shore, had cursed us for bearing the Great Joss to the -ship across the motionless waters of the Gulf of Tongking. - -Since that night we had ourselves anathematised someone else for -serving us as we had served him. - -I had only seen him once, and then from some little distance in the -moonshine, but there was no possibility of mistaken identity. This was -the man. He was dressed in the same fantastic garb, and came at me -like a ghost out of shadowland. He took me by the shoulders, and he -cried--as he had done upon that moon-kissed shore:-- - -“The Great Joss! The Great Joss! Give us back the Great Joss!” - -Exactly what took place I cannot say. I was so taken aback by the -unexpectedness of the encounter--having never dreamed that I should -set eyes upon the man again--that, for some moments, sheer surprise -robbed me of my faculties. Before I was myself again, the man had -gone. Others had thrust him from me. Although I rushed here and there -among the people who stood about I could not find him. He had -vanished. - -I had swallowed a good many bitter pills since last I left that -wharf--the bitterest was still to come. I had to pay my visit to the -owners. On the night of my arrival it was too late to see them. The -pleasure was postponed to the morning. It was a pleasure! - -I came out from their presence a disgraced man. Which was no more than -I had expected, though it was no easier to bear on that account. The -blame was wholly mine. So they would have it. For some of the language -which they used to me I found it hard to keep my hands from off them. -My tale of the Great Joss, and of all that I had hoped to gain for -them by that adventure, they received with something more than -incredulity. If the thing had resulted as I had hoped, that they would -have pocketed their share of the spoils, and betrayed no scruples, I -knew them too well to doubt. But because, as I held, through no fault -of mine, the affair had miscarried, there was no epithet too -opprobrious for them to bestow on me. By their showing I had been -guilty of all sorts of crimes of which I had never heard. I had -betrayed their trust; smirched their good name--as if in the eyes of -those who knew them it could be smirched; been guilty of piracy; acted -like a common thief; offended against the law of nations; brought -shame on England’s mercantile marine. - -Oh, it was grand to hear them talking! They might have been saints -from whose brows I had plucked the halos. They were good enough to -explain that it was only because they disbelieved my entire story, and -placed no credence in any part of it whatever, that they refrained -from handing me over to the properly constituted authorities, to be by -them passed on to the Chinese Government, to be dealt with as my -offences merited. They took me for a jay. And were so kind as to add -that they looked upon the tale as a clumsy, dishonest, and -disingenuous attempt to draw a red herring across their track--the -phrase was theirs!--and so prevented them from taking proper and -adequate notice of the scandalous neglect of duty, and of their -interests, of which, to my lasting shame, I had been guilty. - -It was a rare wigging that I had. And, to the best of their ability, -they included in it everyone who had been with me on board _The Flying -Scud_. There were four of us, at least, who swore that we’d be even -for it with someone somehow. Isaac Rudd, Sam Holley, his chum, Bill -Cox, and I; we were the four. - -And all we had to go upon, to help us towards getting even, was a -scrap of paper. Half a sheet of common note. - -It was the only thing Mr. Batters had left behind him. I had found it -in a corner of his cabin, crumpled up into a sort of ball, as though -he had thrown it there and forgotten all about it. On it this was -written: - -“To my niece, Miss Mary Blyth, care of Messrs. Martin and Branxon, -Drapers, Shoreditch.” - -We would look the lady up. Where the niece was the uncle might not be -far away. At least she might have some knowledge of his whereabouts. -If she had we would have it too, or know the reason why. I still had -the written undertaking, which he had signed, by which he was to -divide with me equally, as a consideration for services rendered, the -treasures of the temple. I had handed this to the owners as proof of -the truth of my statements. They had thrown it back to me with a -sneer. And something worse than a sneer. - -That act amounted to a renunciation of all interest in any property -which the document conveyed, or so it seemed to me. Good! They might -smart for their scepticism yet. Let us find the niece; then the uncle. -If Miss Blyth could only give us a hint as to where he might be found, -though it was on the other side of the world, we’d find him. He had -valued his belongings at a million. We might be snatched out of the -gutter yet. - -The search began badly. They knew nothing of a Miss Blyth at Messrs. -Martin and Branxon’s, or so I was informed by an official individual -in the counting-house. That was a facer. It looked as if Mr. Batters, -at his tricks again, had purposely placed in our way what seemed like -a clue to his lair for the sake of having still another game with us. -But a night or two afterwards I tackled a young fellow as he was -coming out of the shop after closing hours, and put my question to -him. He turned it over in his mind before he answered. - -“There’s no Miss Blyth here now, but there was. I believe her name was -Mary. I could soon find out. She’s left some time; directly after I -came. I can’t think where she went. I’ve heard the name, but I can’t -remember. I might inquire if you like, and let you know to-morrow -night.” - -I agreed. He did inquire. The next night he let me know. Miss Blyth -had gone to a big shop, which he named, at Clapham. The next day, -being engaged, I let Rudd go over to Clapham to see what he could do. - -He made a mess of things. The lady was pointed out to him by one of -her fellow assistants. Before he could get within hail of her, she -slipped round a corner and was out of sight. Came across her again in -a restaurant where she couldn’t pay her bill. Paid it for her. Then, -as he was about to follow her, with a view of pursuing his inquiries, -he saw, standing on the pavement in front of the place, the individual -who had cursed us on that moonlit shore. - -The sight of him struck Rudd all of a heap. By the time he recovered -his presence of mind, the lady had vanished, and the gentleman too. - -The juxtaposition of Miss Blyth and that cursing gentleman seemed to -suggest that we were on the track of the retiring Mr. Batters. What is -more, that the scent was getting hot. - -The evening after I called at that Clapham establishment, just as the -premises were being closed, and asked to see Miss Blyth. Some -jackanapes informed me that the young woman had been dismissed that -very day. He didn’t know what her address was, but had heard that she -had gone off with a party who called himself Frank Paine, and who said -he was a lawyer. - -At that it was my turn to be struck all of a heap. A short time -previously I had called upon Mr. Frank Paine, intending to ask his -opinion as to the validity of the document which had Mr. Batters’ name -attached. But, somehow, the conversation got into other channels. I -came away without it. Not by so much as a word had he hinted that he -knew anything about Mr. Batters or his niece. - -As I walked along, pondering these things, Rudd, at my side, suddenly -exclaimed: - -“Captain, there she is! that’s Miss Blyth! the young lady for whom I -paid the bill!” - -He was pointing towards two young women who were advancing in our -direction, on the opposite side of the road. Having got it clear to -which of the pair he referred, I sailed across to meet them. She was -Miss Blyth. She admitted as much. But that was all the satisfaction I -received. She staggered me with the information that her uncle, Mr. -Benjamin Batters, was dead. As I was trying to understand how he had -come to his death, and when, and where, she took umbrage at my -curiosity, or manner, or something. She and her friend jumped into a -hansom cab, which dashed off at the rate of about twenty miles, -leaving Rudd and I on the kerbstone, staring after it like moonstruck -gabies. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII. - THE LITTLE DISCUSSION BETWEEN THE SEVERAL PARTIES. - -That night we held a consultation. We four. It was getting dead low -tide with us. If we didn’t light upon those treasures of the temple, -we should have to find a ship instead. And that before long. If we had -to go aboard of her as cabin boys. - -It seemed to me that something might be got out of Mr. Paine. In the -way of information. Things pointed that way. The more I thought, the -more they seemed to point. I told the others. We decided to wait upon -him in a body. And man the pumps for all we were worth. If he proved -dry, if nothing could be got out of him, then we should have to admit -that the tide was low. And that we were stranded. But we had hopes. - -The morning after we were in Mitre Court, where his rooms were, -betimes. The idea was that he shouldn’t escape us, that we should see -him as soon as he was visible, and so play the part of the early bird -that catches the worm. But when we found that the door into the street -was open, I, knowing the lay of the land, without any parley, led the -way upstairs. And it was well for him we did. For we came upon as -lively a little scene as ever we’d encountered. - -There was a larger company assembled than we had expected. Quite what -was happening we couldn’t at once make out. The first thing I saw was -a girl tied down upon a table, and--of all people in the world--that -cursing gentleman leaning over her with a knife in his hand. Having -torn her clothes open at the throat, he looked as if he was going to -write his name on her nice white skin with the point of his blade. He -got no farther than the start. I introduced myself. And landed him -one. He didn’t seem to know whether he was glad or sorry to meet me. I -loosed the girl. When I looked round I saw the room was in a mess, and -on the floor, trussed like a fowl, was Mr. Paine. But what made me -almost jump out of skin for joy, was the sight of our dear friend Luke -tied up beside him. - -I released that excellent first officer. Then things were said. When -he understood that we were spoiling to cut him up into little pieces, -and that it seemed likely that he had fallen from the frying-pan into -the fire, he explained. What we wanted to know was the present address -at which Mr. Batters could be found. It seemed, according to him, that -he was aching to know it too. - -“Bless my beautiful eyes!” He spat upon the floor. “Do you think if I -knew where the hearty was that I’d be here? He used me shameful, he -did that.” - -“It seems incredible that he should have used you badly, Mr. Luke.” - -“It does. After all I’d done for him. But he did. After we----” - -He coughed. I finished his sentence. - -“Had taken such a ceremonious leave of us all on board _The Flying -Scud_. Yes? Go on.” - -“We got picked up by a liner as was making Suez.” - -“As you anticipated you would be. I see. You’re a far-sighted person, -Mr. Luke.” - -“They landed us at Suez. We stopped there two or three days getting -packing-cases to--to----” - -“To pack the treasures of the temple in. They must have been rather -conspicuous objects to carry about with you anyhow. Go on.” - -“Then hang me if one evening I didn’t wake up and find that I’d been -senseless for close on two days. The devil had hocussed me.” - -“Hocussed you? Impossible!” - -“He had. Then he’d slipped away, him and his blessed daughter, while I -was more dead than alive, leaving me with as good as nothing in my -pockets. What I had to go through no one knows. If I ever do set eyes -on him again, I’ll----” - -The peroration was a study of adjectives. - -“Then it appears that you are just as eager to have another interview -with Mr. Benjamin Batters as we are. I am sorry your venture was not -attended with better fortune. It deserved success. Pray what were you -to have had out of it?” - -“I was to have had half the blooming lot. And the girl----” - -“And the girl! Indeed? And the girl! Mr. Luke, I should dearly -like----” - -Mr. Paine interposed. - -“Excuse me, Captain Lander, but if it is of Mr. Benjamin Batters you -are speaking, if it is to him so many mysterious references have been -made as the Great Joss, then I may state that, to the best of my -knowledge and belief, that gentleman is dead.” - -“Dead?--to the best of your knowledge and belief?--what do you mean?” - -As I stared at him, a remark was made by the young lady who so -narrowly escaped being made the subject of an experiment in carving. -Although evidently very far from being as much herself as she might -have been, she had pulled herself together a little, and was holding -both hands up to her throat. - -“You’re forgetting that Pollie’s lying perhaps worse than dead in -Camford Street.” - -Mr. Paine gave a jump. - -“I had forgotten it!--upon my honour!” - -“What’s that?” I asked. - -“Miss Blyth--to whom Miss Purvis refers as Pollie--is the niece of the -Mr. Batters of whom we have been speaking. She’s his heiress, in -fact.” - -“His heiress?” - -“Yes; his sole residuary legatee. Among other things he left her a -house in Camford Street--No. 84--on somewhat mysterious conditions. -For instance, she was to allow no man to enter it.” - -“No man?” - -“No; only she and one feminine friend were ever to be allowed to put -their feet inside the door.” - -“Oh?” - -I began to smell a rat. Mr. Paine waved his hand towards the young -lady the cursing gentleman had been about to practise on. - -“This is Miss Purvis, the feminine friend whom Miss Blyth chose to be -her sole companion. Other conditions were attached to the bequest -equally mysterious. Indeed, it would really seem as if there was -something in that house in Camford Street the existence of which the -late Mr. Batters was particularly anxious should be concealed from the -world. Miss Blyth only entered on the occupation of her property -yesterday. Yet Miss Purvis came at an early hour this morning to tell -me that something extraordinary had happened in the middle of the -night. Something, she doesn’t quite know what, but fancies it was some -wild animal, made a savage attack upon Miss Blyth without the -slightest provocation. And when Miss Purvis recovered from the shock -which the occurrence gave her, she found that she herself had been -thrown into the street.” - -“Mr. Paine!” I laid my hand upon the lawyer’s shoulder. “Do you know -what’s inside that house?” - -“I haven’t the faintest notion. How should I have?” - -“It’s the late Mr. Batters!” - -“The late Mr. Batters?” - -“The thing the existence of which Mr. Batters was most anxious to keep -concealed, was Mr. Batters himself--for reasons. So he’s put about a -cock and bull story making out he’s dead, and then hidden himself in -this house of which you’re talking.” - -“Captain Lander!” - -“Mind, it’s only my guess, as yet. But I don’t think you’ll find that -I’m sailing very wide of the wind. The more I turn things over, after -listening to what you’ve said, the more likely it seems to me that the -Great Joss, whom we’ve all been on tiptoe to get a peep at, has hidden -himself in that house which he pretends to have left to his niece, and -is waiting there for us to find him. And I’m off to do it!” - -“Someone’s had the start of you.” - -The interruption came from Rudd. The absence of the cursing gentleman, -and his two friends, explained his meaning. - -“They’ve gone hot-foot after him,” I cried. “What’s good enough for -them is good enough for me!” - -We journeyed in three cabs. Speed was a consideration. So we chartered -hansoms. I went in front with Luke. He didn’t seem over and above -anxious for my society. But I didn’t feel as if I could be comfortable -without him. So we went together. Though I am bound to admit that I’m -inclined to think that I enjoyed that ride more than he did. Rudd, -Holley, and his chum came next. Mr. Paine and the young lady last. I -liked his manner towards that young lady. In a lawyer, whom one -naturally looks upon as the most hard-hearted of human creatures, it -was beautiful. He could not have treated her more tenderly if she had -been a queen. And, though she was still in a very sad condition, I -have a sort of idea that, when they were once inside that cab, speed -with them wasn’t much of a consideration. - -And though those hansoms did rattle us along in style, we found that -someone had got to that house in Camford Street in front of us. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII. - IN THE PRESENCE. - -The cursing gentleman and his two friends were awaiting us upon the -pavement. I said a word of a kind to the long ’un. - -“Look here, my bald-headed friend, I don’t quite know who you are, or -what you want, but I’ve seen enough of your little ways to know -they’re funny; so if you take my advice you’ll make yourself scarce -before there’s trouble.” - -He held out his hands. Looking, on the dirty pavement of that shabby -street, like a fish out of water. - -“The Great Joss! The Great Joss! He is in there--give him back to -us--then we go.” - -I reflected. After all there was some reason in the creature. He was -almost as much interested in Mr. Batters as I was. Considering how Mr. -Batters had treated me I didn’t see why he shouldn’t learn what an -object of interest he really was. It might occasion him agreeable -surprise. The fellow was in such dead earnest. It beat me how he and -his friends had got where they were. Reminding me of the flocks of -migratory birds which one meets far out at sea. Goodness only knows by -what instinct they pursue the objects of their search. I turned to Mr. -Paine. - -“This gentleman was high priest, or something of the kind, in the -temple in which Mr. Batters was Number One God.” - -“Number One God?” - -“That’s about the size of it. He was a god when I first made his -acquaintance. This gentleman’s own particular. Since he and his -friends have come a good many thousand miles to get another peep at -him, I don’t think there’ll be much harm in letting him have one if -it’s to be got. So, so far as I’m concerned, right reverend sir, you -can stop and see the fun.” - -Mr. Paine stared. He didn’t understand. The look with which he -regarded the foreign gentleman wasn’t friendly. The experience he had -had of his peculiar methods was a trifle recent. Perhaps it rankled. - -I turned my attention to the house in front of which the lot of us -were standing, cabs and all. - -“The question is, since no one seems inclined to open the door, how we -are going to get in to enable us to pay our little morning call.” - -Rudd practically suggested one way by hurling himself against the door -as if he had been a battering ram. He might as well have tried his -luck against a stone wall. As much impression would have been made. -When I ran my stick over it, it sounded to me like a sheet of metal. - -Luke proffered his opinion. - -“You’ll want a long chisel for this job. Or a pair. Nothing else ’ll -do it. That door’s been put there to keep people out. Not to let ’em -in. It’ll be like breaking into a strong room.” - -Luke proved right. All our efforts were unavailing. That door had been -built to keep folks out. - -“If this is going to be a case for chisels,” said Rudd, “we’d better -start on it at once, before those police come interfering.” - -We were already centres of attraction to a rapidly increasing crowd. -Our goings-on provided entertainment of a kind they didn’t care to -miss. Long before we had put that job through the police did come. -What is more, we were glad to see them. - -Rudd fetched a pair of crowbars from an ironmonger’s shop close by. -With his assistance, and acting under his instructions, we started to -shift that door. We never got beyond the starting. We might as well -have tried to shift the monument. He rigged up contrivances; tried -dodges. There was the door just as tight as ever. And just as we were -thinking of breaking the heads of some of the members of that -interested crowd, up the police did come. - -Mr. Paine explained to them what we were after. Then he and the young -lady and Rudd went off with one of them to the station, while another -stayed behind. In course of time they returned, together with an -inspector, three more policemen, and two specimens of the British -working man, who were wheeling something on a barrow. The interest of -the crowd increased. The new arrivals were received with cheers. - -Those workmen, in conjunction with Isaac Rudd, fitted up a machine -upon the pavement. It was some kind of a drill I believe. Presently -not one but half a dozen holes had been cut right through that door. -Into these were inserted crowbars of a different construction to those -we had been using. We all lent a hand. And the door was open. - -The crowd pressed forward. - -“Keep back!” cried the inspector. - -And the police kept them back. - -The inspector entered, with the young lady, Mr. Paine, Rudd and I. The -rest were kept out, including the cursing gentleman and his two -friends, which seemed hard on them after all they must have gone -through. But it was little that they lost. At the beginning anyhow. - -For as soon as we set foot inside the passage we found that there was -another door defying us. It seemed to lead into a room upon our left. -Rudd called one of the workmen in to consult with him. They sounded -the door, they sounded the wall, and concluded that the shortest way -into the room was through the wall. So soon the house was being -knocked to pieces before our eyes. There was sheet iron on the other -side of that wall. But they were through it in what seemed no time. And -there was a great hole, large enough to admit of the passage of a man. - -And on the other side of this hole stood Susie. - -She stared at us, and we stared at her, neither understanding who the -other was. But when I did understand I felt as if my legs were giving -way. And something inside me set up a clamour which was deafening. And -when she saw it was me she called out: - -“Max!” - -She was through that wall like a flash of lightning. I had her in my -arms almost before I knew it. - -“Susie!” I said. “My sweet!” - -I could tell by the way of her that she knew more about wives than she -did when I saw her last. And that she had grown reconciled to the idea -of being one. And perhaps a bit more than reconciled. The fates be -thanked. - -Miss Blyth was in the room with her. Alive and sound, and, indeed, -unhurt. They had been frightened out of their wits when they heard us, -and at the noise we made, thinking they were going to be murdered, at -the least. - -“Where’s your father?” I asked. - -“When he brought her in,” she answered--meaning Miss Blyth--“he went -out, shutting the door behind him, taking the key. He left us -prisoners. We’ve been prisoners ever since. We’ve heard and seen -nothing of him. Where he is I don’t know. Unless he’s above.” - -He was above. In a room at the top of the house. With another door to -it. So that we had to get through the wall again. - -He had had a sort of throne rigged up. Intending, maybe, to have an -imitation of the one which he had occupied when I had first come upon -him in the temple. If that was so the imitation was a precious poor -one. But he was on it. Dead. And cold. He had been gone some hours. - -Whether he had committed suicide, or whether the end had come to him -in the ordinary course of nature, there was nothing to show. - -A colony of snakes was in the room. Those favourites of his. One -shared the throne with the Great Joss. It was on the seat, in front of -him, where his legs ought to have been. My idea was that the thing had -killed him. But it seemed that that was not the case. The creatures -were declared not to be venomous. And there was no mark of a -snake-bite about him anyhow. - -While we stood looking at the throne, and what was on it, there was a -movement behind. The cursing gentleman and his two friends came in. At -sight of the Great Joss they threw themselves on their faces, and bit -the floor. I never saw men so scared. Or so surprised. I had a sort of -notion that they had supposed him to be immortal, and that he couldn’t -die. When the body came to be examined, and it was discovered what a -torso it really was, and to what prolonged and hideous tortures the -man must have been subjected, one began to understand that they might -have had reasons of their own for thinking so. It might very well have -been incomprehensible to them why, if he could die, he hadn’t died. - -At the foot of the throne was the little doll-like thing which I had -seen perched on the head of the fifty thousand pound monstrosity. He -had called it the God of Fortune. Saying that where it was he was not -far away. - -The case seemed to present an illustration of the truth of his words. -The doll was broken to atoms. The Great Joss and the God of Fortune -seemed to have come to an end together. - - - - - BOOK V. - AUTHOR’S POSTSCRIPT. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV. - HOW MATTERS STAND TO-DAY. - -I should have preferred that the close of Captain Max Lander’s -statement should have been the conclusion of this strange history. But -for the satisfaction of any reader who may desire to know what became -of A, B, C, or D, these following lines are added. - -What have been described by Captain Lander as “the treasures of the -temple” were found in the house in Camford Street. So far as could be -ascertained, intact. The question of ownership involved a nice legal -problem. The native attendants of the temple vanished almost as soon -as they appeared. No one knew where they went to. Nothing has been -seen or heard of them since. It seemed, therefore, that they put -forward no claims. There remained the girl, Susan, presumably the dead -man’s daughter, though there was no legal proof of the fact; Mary -Blyth, who had claims under her uncle’s will; Captain Lander, who held -the document entitling him to a half share; and the owners and crew of -_The Flying Scud_. All these had claims which required consideration. -In the end, by great good fortune, an amicable settlement was arrived -at, which gave satisfaction to all parties concerned. - -As might have been expected, the value set on the property by Mr. -Batters proved to be an exaggeration. It was worth nothing like a -million. Still, it fetched a considerable amount when realised, and -after the owners and crew of _The Flying Scud_ had been -appeased--excepting Mr. Luke, who was markedly dissatisfied because he -only received an ordinary seaman’s share--an appreciable sum remained -as surplus. To this was added the cash which had been bequeathed to -Miss Blyth by the will whose validity was, at best, extremely -doubtful; the whole being divided, in equal portions, between the -niece and the daughter. As Miss Batters immediately afterwards became -Mrs. Max Lander, the commander of _The Flying Scud_ had no cause to be -discontented with this arrangement. - -No. 84, Camford Street is still without an owner. It appears, from the -story told by the girl, Susan, that on reaching England, her father -hurried her from place to place, seldom stopping for more than two or -three days under one roof. They seem to have made their most lengthy -stay in a barge in one of the lower reaches of the river. No doubt the -notion of concealment was present to his mind from the first. Though -how he lighted on the house in Camford Street is still a mystery. Nor -has anything transpired to show by whose orders it was fortified in -such ingenious and elaborate fashion; nor by whom the work was -executed. Nothing has been found which goes to show that he had any -right to call the house his property. Its actual ownership still goes -begging. - -The document purporting to be a will was possibly drawn up by his own -hand. The letter signed “Arthur Lennard, Missionary,” pretending to -announce his death on that far-off Australasian island, was probably -concocted, at his instigation, by one of the miscellaneous -acquaintances whom he picked up during his wanderings among the -riverside vagabonds. From such an one he might have acquired Mr. -Paine’s name, together with some side-lights on that gentleman’s -character. Miss Batters made it abundantly clear that her father was -the “freak” to whom Mr. Paine was of service by rescuing him from the -too curious crowd in the Commercial Road. - -His exact object in making his will has never been shown. No doubt the -man’s brain was in disorder. He was actuated, perhaps, by three -considerations. The desire for concealment; the consciousness that he -and his daughter would fare very badly if shut up in a house alone -together; the wish to avail himself of his niece’s services. To have -gone to her with a straightforward tale would have been in accord -neither with his character or policy. He had lived too long in what, -for civility’s sake, may be called a diplomatic atmosphere, to be able -to breathe in any other. Also, he knew nothing of his niece. Suspected -that she knew nothing good of him. Was moved, possibly, by a very -natural unwillingness to make himself, or his story, known to her -until he had learned what kind of person she was. - -So he invented his own death, making her his heiress, for the sole -purpose of getting her inside the house. It is impossible to say what -might have happened had she proved amenable to his wishes; and events -moved along the road which he had laid down for them. The presumption -is that, sooner or later--probably sooner--he would have made himself -known to her, and endeavoured to purchase her fidelity, and services, -on terms of his own. - -As it is, the uncle is the constant theme of the niece’s conversation. -Miss Blyth is now Mrs. Cooper. The Coopers are residents of one of the -smaller south coast watering places, where they are regarded as -leading lights among local social circles. Mr. Cooper is a -vice-president of the boat-club, yacht-club, swimming-club, -cricket-club, football club, and so on; his wife is the mother of an -increasing family, and a lady with a tale. Its subject is Uncle -Benjamin. That gentleman lived a life of strange and varied adventure. -His history loses none of its marvels at his niece’s lips. Either -because they are a trifle tired of the theme, or are merely jealous, -some of the more frequent hearers have been heard to doubt if there -ever was an Uncle Benjamin. If these doubts are serious they do the -lady less than justice. - -Mr. and Mrs. Lander are also happy. One would be reluctant to doubt -it. Yet, at the same time, one cannot refuse to admit that there are -occasions when the outward and visible signs of their happiness take a -somewhat boisterous shape. He has a temper; she has a temper. There -are moments when it would appear as if there was hardly room for the -two tempers in a single house. Since they seldom remain in one place -for more than three months, they can scarcely be said to live -anywhere. In selecting their next abiding-place, they seem to act on -the principle of letting it be as far from the present as possible. -Mr. Lander has not pursued his profession since the last eventful -voyage which he has herein set forth. Possibly by way of killing time -he is apt to be a trifle too convivial. Nothing makes Mrs. Lander more -indignant than an even hinted doubt of her positive assertion, made in -and out of season, that every drop of blood in her veins is English. -As her complexion is a little dusky, her aggressive attitude upon this -point makes her rather a difficult person to get on with. - -Mr. Frank Paine, oddly enough, has married Miss Purvis. And, what is -perhaps still more odd, theirs is the happiest match of the three. -About their complete and absolute content with their condition there -can be no possible doubt whatever. He worships her; she worships him. -If there is any finer recipe for matrimonial happiness than that, it -has not come in the present writer’s way. His practice as a solicitor -has grown large. Mrs. Paine is of opinion that he is rightly regarded -with even fulsome reverence by the entire bench and bar. Since he -would not dream of contesting any opinion which happened to be his -wife’s, the position of affairs could not possibly be improved. - -Mr. Benjamin Batters lies in Kensal Green Cemetery. In a deep grave, -and in a full-sized coffin. Surrounded by dignitaries and -respectabilities. In his coffin were placed the broken pieces of the -curiosity which he called the God of Fortune. So they are still -together. A handsome monument has been raised above him. There is no -hint, in the inscription, that below are but the mangled fragments of -what was once a human body; or any reference to the fact that he ever -posed as a joss; or a god; or was ever believed, even by savages, to -have put on immortality before his time. It simply says: - - “BENEATH THIS STONE - REPOSES - BENJAMIN BATTERS, - WHO, - AFTER A LIFE OF VARIED ADVENTURE - IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE WORLD, - SLEEPS WELL.” - -We will hope that it is so. - - [THE END.] - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -Alterations to the text: - -Change several instances of _aint_ to _ain’t_, and _dont_ to _don’t_. - -Some punctuation corrections. - -[Chapter II] - -Change “to be as old as _Methusaleh_” to _Methuselah_. - -[Chapter IV] - -“it's nothing, Buck up, old girl.” change first comma to a period. - -“broke into stammering _speeh_” to _speech_. - -[Chapter V] - -“Great _Ke_ Island” to _Ka_. - -[Chapter VI] - -“_tennacy_ of my house” to _tenancy_. - -[Chapter VII] - -“They seemed be in a hurry.” add _to_ after _seemed_. - -[Chapter XI] - -“to _nogotiate_ the obstacle” to _negotiate_. - -[Chapter XII] - -“of chairs, the _washhandstand_” to _washhand stand_. - -[Chapter XIII] - -“wooden _windsor_ chair” to _Windsor_. - -[Chapter XV] - -“sound sleep, as it _semed_” to _seemed_. - -[Chapter XVII] - -“They’re ’only ’aving a bit o’ fun” delete the apostrophe attached -to _only_. - -“was it, after after all, his serious” delete one _after_. - -“Since nearly a month _elasped_” to _elapsed_. - -[Chapter XX] - -“treatment than _Messrs_ Staple, _Wainright_ and Friscoe” to _Messrs._ -and _Wainwright_, respectively. - -“_Dantily_ fashioned, curves” to _Daintily_. - -[Chapter XXI] - -“It was _past-half past_ ten” to _past half-past_. - -[Chapter XXII] - -“_Epecially_ when I should like” to _Especially_. - -“What’s _Captian_ Lander” to _Captain_. - -[Chapter XXXIII] - -“There was sheet iron on the other side that wall” add _of_ after -_side_. - -[End of Text] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JOSS: A REVERSION *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/64997-0.zip b/old/64997-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b354feb..0000000 --- a/old/64997-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64997-h.zip b/old/64997-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0d75a9d..0000000 --- a/old/64997-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64997-h/64997-h.htm b/old/64997-h/64997-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index ca7698f..0000000 --- a/old/64997-h/64997-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16322 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" version="-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" xml:lang="en"> -<head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"/> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> - <title> - The Joss: A Reversion, by Richard Marsh - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -/* Headers and Divisions */ - h1, h2, h3 {margin:2em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} - - div.tp {text-align:center;} /* title page */ - - /* center a block of text */ - div.quote_o {font-size:95%; margin:0.5em 2em 0.5em 2em; text-align:center;} - div.quote_i {display:inline-block; text-align:left;} - -/* General */ - - body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} - - p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:1em;} - p.center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.noindent {text-indent:0em;} - p.sign2 {margin:0em 2em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} - p.end {margin:1em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - - p.toc_1 {font-variant:small-caps; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.toc_2 {font-variant:small-caps; text-align:justify; text-indent:0em;} - - div.letter {padding:1em 0em 1em 3em;} - - span.sc {font-variant:small-caps;} - - span.book_sub {font-size:80%;} - span.chap_sub {font-size:80%;} - - </style> -</head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Joss: A Reversion, by Richard Marsh</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Joss: A Reversion</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Richard Marsh</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 05, 2021 [eBook #64997]<br /> -[Last updated June 5, 2022]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JOSS: A REVERSION ***</div> - -<div class="tp"> -<h1> -THE JOSS: A REVERSION -</h1> - -A Novel -<br/> -By<br/> -<i>RICHARD MARSH</i> -<br/><br/><br/> -LONDON<br/> -F. V. WHITE & CO.<br/> -14, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C.<br/> -1901 -</div> - - -<h2> -CONTENTS. -</h2> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#b1">BOOK I.</a><br/> -UNCLE BENJAMIN.<br/> -(Mary Blyth Tells the Story.) -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch01">I.—Firandolo’s</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch02">II.—Locked Out</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch03">III.—The Doll</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch04">IV.—An Interview with Mr. Slaughter</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch05">V.—The Missionary’s Letter</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch06">VI.—Sole Residuary Legatee</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch07">VII.—Entering into Possession</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch08">VIII.—The Back-door Key</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#b2">BOOK II.</a><br/> -84, CAMFORD STREET.<br/> -(The Facts of the Case According to Emily Purvis.) -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch09">IX.—Max Lander</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch10">X.—Between 13 and 14, Rosemary Street</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch11">XI.—One Way In</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch12">XII.—The Shutting of a Door</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch13">XIII.—A Vision of the Night</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch14">XIV.—Susie</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch15">XV.—An Ultimatum</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch16">XVI.—The Noise which Came from the Passage</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#b3">BOOK III.</a><br/> -THE GOD OF FORTUNE.<br/> -(Mr. Frank Paine Tells the Story of his Association with the -Testamentary Dispositions of Mr. Benjamin Batters.) -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch17">XVII.—The Affair of the Freak</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch18">XVIII.—Counsel’s Opinion</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch19">XIX.—The Reticence of Captain Lander</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch20">XX.—My Client: and Her Friend</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch21">XXI.—The Agitation of Miss Purvis</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch22">XXII.—Luke</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch23">XXIII.—The Trio Return</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch24">XXIV.—The God Out of the Machine</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#b4">BOOK IV.</a><br/> -THE JOSS.<br/> -(Captain Max Lander Sets Forth the Curious Adventure which Marked the -Voyage of “The Flying Scud.”) -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch25">XXV.—Luke’s Suggestion</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch26">XXVI.—The Throne in the Centre</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch27">XXVII.—The Offerings of the Faithful</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch28">XXVIII.—The Joss Reverts</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch29">XXIX.—The Father—and His Child</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch30">XXX.—The Morning’s News</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch31">XXXI.—The Termination of the Voyage of the “Flying Scud”</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch32">XXXII.—The Little Discussion Between the Several Parties</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch33">XXXIII.—In the Presence</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#b5">BOOK V.</a><br/> -AUTHOR’S POSTSCRIPT. -</p> - -<p class="toc_2"> -<a href="#ch34">XXXIV.—How Matters Stand To-day</a> -</p> - - -<h2> -THE JOSS: A REVERSION. -</h2> - -<h2 id="b1"> -BOOK I.<br/> -<span class="book_sub">UNCLE BENJAMIN.</span> -</h2> - -<p class="center"> -(MARY BLYTH TELLS THE STORY.) -</p> - -<h3 id="ch01"> -CHAPTER I.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">FIRANDOLO’S.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I had</span> had an aggravating day. In everything luck had been against -me. I had got down late, and been fined for that. Then when I went -into the shop I found I had forgotten my cuffs, and Mr. Broadley, who -walks the fancy department, marked me sixpence for that. Just as I was -expecting my call for dinner an old lady came in who kept me fussing -about till my set came up—and only spent three and two-three after -all; so when I did go down alone there was nothing left; and what was -left was worse than cold. Though I was as hungry as I very well could -be I could scarcely swallow as much as a mouthful; lukewarm boiled -mutton cased in solidified fat is not what I care for. Directly after -I came up, feeling hungrier than ever, Miss Patten did me out of the -sale of a lot of sequin trimming on which there was a ninepenny spiff. -I was showing it to a customer, and before I had had half a chance she -came and took it clean out of my hands, and sold it right away. It -made me crosser than ever. To crown it all, I missed three sales. One -lady wanted a veil, and because we had not just the sort she wanted, -when she walked out of the shop Mr. Broadley seemed to think it was my -fault. He said he would mark me. When some people want a triangular -spot you cannot put them off with a round one. It is no use your -saying you can. And so I as good as told him. -</p> - -<p> -Not twenty minutes afterwards a girl came in—a mere chit—who wanted -some passementerie, beaded. She had brought a pattern. Somehow -directly I saw it I thought there would be trouble. I hunted through -the stock and found the thing exactly, only there were blue beads -where there ought to have been green. As there were a dozen different -coloured beads it did not really matter, especially as ours were a -green blue, and hers were a blue green. But that chit would not see -it. She would not admit that it was a match. When I called Mr. -Broadley, and he pointed out to her that the two were so much alike -that, at a little distance, you could not tell one from the other, she -was quite short. She caught up her old pattern and took herself away. -Then Mr. Broadley gave it to me hot. He reminded me that that was two -sales I had missed, and that three, on one day, meant dismissal. I did -not suppose they would go so far as that, but I did expect that, if I -missed again, it would cost me half-a-crown, at least. So, of course, -there was I, as it were, on tenterhooks, resolved that rather than I -would let anyone else go without a purchase I would force some -elevenpence three-farthing thing on her; if I had to pay for it -myself. And there was Mr. Broadley hanging about just by my stand, -watching me so that I felt I should like to stick my scissors into -him. -</p> - -<p> -But I was doomed to be done. Luck was clean against me. Just as we -were getting ready to close in came an old woman—one of your -red-faced sort, with her bonnet a little on one side of her head. She -wanted some torchon lace. Now, strictly speaking, lace is not in my -department, but as we are all supposed to serve through, and most of -the others were engaged—it is extraordinary how, some nights, people -will crowd into the shop just as we are getting ready to close—Mr. -Broadley planted her on me. She was a nice old party. She did not know -herself what she wanted, but seemed to think I ought to. So far as I -could make out, what she really did want was a four shilling lace at -fourpence—which we could not exactly supply. At last I called Mr. -Broadley to see if he could make her out. On which she actually turned -huffy, and declaring that I would not take the trouble to show her -anything at all, in spite of all that we could do or say, she marched -straight out. Then I had a wigging. Broadley let himself go, before -them all. I could have cried—and almost did. -</p> - -<p> -I was three-quarters of an hour late before I got into the street. -Emily Purvis was tired of waiting, and Tom Cooper was in a red-hot -rage. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear,” began Emily, directly she saw me, “I hope you haven’t -hurried. We’re only frozen to the bone.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s all right,” said Tom. “It’s just the sort of night to hang -about this confounded corner.” -</p> - -<p> -It was disagreeable weather. There was a nasty east wind, which seemed -to cut right into one, and the pavements were wet and slimy. It all -seemed of a piece. I knew Tom’s overcoat was not too thick, nor -Emily’s jacket too warm either. When I saw Tom dancing about to keep -himself warm, all at once something seemed to go over me, and I had to -cry. Then there was a pretty fuss. -</p> - -<p> -“Polly!” exclaimed Emily. “Whatever is the matter with you now?” -</p> - -<p> -And there, in the open street, Tom put his arm about my waist. I told -them all about it. You should have heard how they went on at Broadley. -It did me good to listen, though I knew it would make no difference to -him. They had not had the best of luck either. It seemed that it had -been one of those days on which everything goes wrong with everyone. -Emily had not got one single spiff, and Tom had had a quarrel with -young Clarkson, who had called him Ginger to his face—and the colour -of his hair is a frightfully delicate point with Tom. Tom had -threatened to punch his head when they went upstairs. I begged and -prayed him not to, but there was a gloomy air about him which showed -that he would have to do something to relieve his feelings. I felt -that punching young Clarkson’s head might do him good—and Clarkson no -particular harm. -</p> - -<p> -I do not think that either of us was particularly happy. The streets -were nearly deserted. It was bitterly cold. Every now and then a -splash of rain was driven into our faces. -</p> - -<p> -“This is, for us, the age of romance,” declared Emily. “You mightn’t -think so, but it is. At our age, the world should be alive with -romance. We should be steeped in its atmosphere; drink it in with -every breath. It should colour both our sleeping and our waking hours. -And, instead of that, here we are shivering in this filthy horrid -street.” -</p> - -<p> -That was the way she was fond of talking. She was a very clever girl, -was Emily, and could use big words more easily than I could little -ones. She would have it that romance was the only thing worth living -for, and that, as there is no romance in the world to-day, it is not -worth while one’s living. I could not quite make out her argument, but -that was what it came to so far as I could understand. I wished myself -that there was a little more fun about. I was tired of the drapery. -</p> - -<p> -“Shivering!” said Tom. “I’m not only shivering; I’m hungry too. Boiled -mutton days I always am.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hungry!” I cried. “I’m starving. I’ve had no dinner or tea, and I’m -ready to drop.” -</p> - -<p> -“No! You don’t mean that?” -</p> - -<p> -I did mean it, and so I told him. What with having had nothing to eat, -and being tired, and worried, and cold, it was all I could do to drag -one foot after another. I just felt as if I was going to be ill. I -could have kept on crying all the time. -</p> - -<p> -“Have either of you got any money?” asked Tom. Neither Emily nor I had -a penny. “Then I’ll tell you what I’ll do; we’ll all three of us go -into Firandolo’s, and I’ll stand Sam.” -</p> - -<p> -I knew he had only enough money to take him home on Sunday, because he -had told me so himself the day before. Cardew & Slaughter’s is not the -sort of place where they encourage you to spend Sunday in. He had been -in last Sunday; and to stop in two Sundays running was to get yourself -disliked; I have spent many a Sunday, loitering about the parks and -the streets, living on a couple of buns, rather than go in to what -they called dinner. And I knew that if we once set foot in Firandolo’s -we should spend all he had. Yet I was so faint and hungry that I did -not want much pressing. I could not find it in my heart to refuse. -</p> - -<p> -Firandolo’s is something like a restaurant. Including vegetables, and -sweets, and cheese, I have counted sixty-seven dishes on the bill of -fare at one time, so that you have plenty of choice. For a shilling -you can get a perfectly splendid dinner. And for sixpence you can get -soup, and bread and cheese and butter; and they bring you the soup in -a silver basin which is full to the brim. -</p> - -<p> -At night it is generally crowded, but it was perhaps because the -weather was so bad that there were only a few persons in the place -when we went in. Directly after we entered someone else came in. He -was a big man, and wore a reefer coat and a bowler hat. Seating -himself at a table immediately opposite ours, taking off his hat, he -wiped his forehead with an old bandanna handkerchief; though what -there was to make him warm on a night like that was more than I could -say. He had a fringe of iron-grey hair all round his head on a level -with his ears. It stood out stiffly, like a sort of crown. Above and -below it he was bald. He wore a bristly moustache, and his eyes were -almost hidden by the bushiest eyebrows I had ever seen. I could not -help noticing him, because I had a kind of fancy that he had been -following us for some time. Unless I was mistaken he had passed me -just as I had come out of Cardew & Slaughter’s; and ever since, -whenever I looked round, I saw him somewhere behind us, as if he were -keeping us in sight. I said nothing about it to the others, but I -wondered, all the same. I did not like his looks at all. He seemed to -me to be both sly and impudent; and though he pretended not to be -watching us, I do not believe he took his eyes off us for a single -moment. -</p> - -<p> -I do not know what he had; he took a long time in choosing it, -whatever it was. We had soup. It was lovely. Hot and tasty; just the -very thing I wanted. It made me feel simply pounds better. But, after -we had finished, something dreadful happened. The bill came altogether -to one and three; we each of us had an extra bread. Tom felt in his -pocket for the money. First in one, then in another. Emily and I soon -saw that something was wrong, because he felt in every pocket he had. -And he looked so queer. -</p> - -<p> -“This is a bit of all right!” he gasped, just as we were beginning to -wonder if he was all pockets. “Blessed if I have a single copper on -me. I remember now that I left it in my box, so that I shouldn’t spend -it.” -</p> - -<p> -He looked at us, and we looked at him, and the waiter stood close by, -looking at us all. And behind him was the proprietor, also with an -observant eye. Emily and I were dumbfounded. Tom seemed as if he had -not another word to say. Just as the proprietor was beginning to come -closer, the stranger who had been following us got up and came to us -across the room, all the time keeping his eyes on me. -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me if I take a liberty, but might I ask if I’m speaking to -Miss Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -An odd voice he had; as if he were endeavouring to overcome its -natural huskiness by speaking in a whisper. Of course my name is -Blyth, and so I told him. But who he was I did not know from Adam. I -certainly had never set eyes on him before. He explained, in a -fashion; though his explanation came to nothing, after all. -</p> - -<p> -“I knew a—a relative of yours. A pal, he was, of mine; great pals was -him and me. So I naturally take an interest in a relative of his.” He -turned to Tom. “If so be, sir, as you’ve left your purse at home, -which is a kind of accident which might happen to any gentleman at any -time, perhaps I might be allowed to pay your little bill.” -</p> - -<p> -Tom had to allow him, though he liked it no more than I did. But we -none of us wanted to be sent to prison for obtaining soup on false -pretences, which I have been given to understand might have happened. -Though, for my part, I would almost as soon have done that as be -beholden to that big, bald-headed creature, who spoke as if he had -lost his voice, and was doing all he knew to find it. When he had paid -the one and three, and what were Tom’s feelings at seeing him do it -was more than I could think, because I know his pride, the stranger -came out with something else. -</p> - -<p> -“And now, ladies, might I offer you a little something on my own. What -do you say to a dozen oysters each, and a bottle of champagne? I -believe they’re things ladies are fond of.” -</p> - -<p> -He smiled—such a smile. It sounded tempting. I had never tasted -oysters and champagne; though, of course, I had read of them in books, -heaps of times. And it is my opinion that Emily would have said yes, -if I had given her a chance. But not me. I stood up directly. -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you; but I never touch oysters and champagne—at this time of -night.” -</p> - -<p> -“Might I—might I be allowed to offer a little something else. A Welsh -rarebit, shall we say?” -</p> - -<p> -Now, as it happens, a Welsh rarebit is a thing that I am fond of, -especially when eaten with a glass of stout. I was still hungry, and -my mouth watered at the prospect of some real nice, hot toasted -cheese. It needed some resolution to decline. But I did. Hungry as I -was, I felt as if I had had more than enough of him already. -</p> - -<p> -“I am obliged to you, but I want nothing else. I have had all that I -require.” -</p> - -<p> -It was not true; but it seemed to me that it was a case in which truth -would not exactly meet the situation. The stranger came close to me, -actually whispering in my ear. -</p> - -<p> -“May I hope, Miss Blyth, that you’ll remember me when—when you want a -friend?” -</p> - -<p> -I was as stand-offish as I could be. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see how I can remember you when I don’t even know your name.” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke to me across the back of his hand. -</p> - -<p> -“My name is Rudd—Isaac Rudd; known to my friends, of whom, the Lord -be praised, I’ve many, as Covey. It’s a—a term of endearment, so to -speak, Miss Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -That anyone could apply a term of endearment to such a man as he -seemed to be, was more than I believed to be possible. -</p> - -<p> -“If you will let me take your address, Mr. Rudd, I will see that you -have your one and three.” -</p> - -<p> -“My address? Ah! Now there you have me. I don’t happen to have an—an -address just now. In fact, I’m—I’m moving.” -</p> - -<p> -We were going towards the door. I was beginning to fear that he -intended to accompany us home. Nor did I see how we could prevent him, -since he was at liberty to take such measures as he chose which would -ensure the return of the money he had paid for us. But, as we drew -near the entrance, he started back; and his demeanour changed in the -most extraordinary way. -</p> - -<p> -“Good-night,” he stammered, retreating farther and farther from us. -“Don’t—don’t let me keep you, not—not for another moment.” -</p> - -<p> -We went out. Directly we were in the open air Tom drew a long breath. -</p> - -<p> -“Geewhillikins! A nice scrape I nearly got you in, and myself as well. -A pretty hole we should have been in if that fellow hadn’t turned up -in the very nick of time. He’s the sort I call a friend in need with a -vengeance.” -</p> - -<p> -Emily struck in. -</p> - -<p> -“Polly, why wouldn’t you let us sample his oysters and champagne? -Considering he’s a friend of yours, you seemed pretty short with him.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, he’s not a friend of mine, nor ever could be; and as for his -oysters and champagne, they’d have choked me if I’d touched them.” -</p> - -<p> -“They wouldn’t have choked me, I can tell you that. There is some -romance in oysters and champagne, and, as you know very well, romance -is what I live for. There’s precious little comes my way; it seems -hard it should be snatched from my lips just as I have a chance of -tasting it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hollo! Who on earth——” -</p> - -<p> -It was from Tom the exclamation came. He stopped short, with his -sentence uncompleted. I turned to see what had caused him to speak—to -find myself face to face with the most singular-looking individual I -had ever seen. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch02"> -CHAPTER II.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">LOCKED OUT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">At</span> first I could not make out if it was a man or woman or what it -was. But at last I decided that it was a man. I never saw such -clothes. Whether it was the darkness, or his costume, or what it was, -I cannot say, but he seemed to me to be surprisingly tall. And thin! -And old! Nothing less than a walking skeleton he seemed to me, the -cheekbones were starting through his skin which was shrivelled and -yellow with age. He wore what looked to me, in that light, like a -whole length piece of double width yellow canvas cloth. It was wrapped -round and round him, as, I am told, it is round mummies. A fold was -drawn up over his head, so as to make a kind of hood, and from under -this his face looked out. -</p> - -<p> -Fancy coming on such a figure, on a dark night, all of a sudden, and -you can guess what my feelings were. I thought I should have dropped. -I had to catch tight hold of Tom’s arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Tom,” I gasped, “what—whatever is it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Come on,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of this. Looney, he looks to -me.” -</p> - -<p> -Lunatic or not, he did not mean that we should get away from him quite -so easily. He took Emily by the shoulder—you should have heard the -scream she gave; if it had been louder it would have frightened the -neighbourhood. But the lunatic, or whatever the creature was, did not -seem to be in the least put out. He held her with both his hands, one -on either shoulder, and turned her round to him, and stared at her in -the most disgraceful way. He put his face so close to hers that I -thought he was going to bite her, or something awful. But no; all at -once he thrust her aside as if she was nothing at all. -</p> - -<p> -“It is not she,” he murmured, half to himself, as it seemed, and half -to us. -</p> - -<p> -And before I could guess what he was going to do, he laid his hands on -me. It was a wonder I did not faint right then and there. He gripped -my shoulders so tight that I felt as if he had me screwed in a vice, -and for days after my skin was black and blue. He thrust his face so -close to mine that I felt his breath upon my cheeks. There was an odd -smell about it which made me dizzy. He had little eyes, which were set -far back in his head. I had a notion they were short-sighted, he -seemed to have to peer so long and closely. At last his lips moved. -</p> - -<p> -“It is she,” he said, in the same half-stifled voice in which he had -spoken before. He had a queer accent. There was no mistaking what he -said, but it was certain that his tongue was not an Englishman’s. “You -will see me again—yes! Soon! You will remember me?” -</p> - -<p> -Remember him? I should never forget him, never! Not if I lived to be -as old as Methuselah. That hideous, hollow-cheeked, saffron-hued face -would haunt me in my dreams. I do have dreams, pretty bad ones -sometimes. I should see him in them many a time. My head whirled -round. The next thing I knew I was in Tom’s arms. He was holding me up -against Firandolo’s window. He spoke to me. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all right now; he’s gone.” -</p> - -<p> -I sighed, and looked round. The wretch had vanished. What had become -of him I did not ask, or care to know. It was sufficient for me that -he had vanished. As I drew myself up I glanced round towards the -restaurant door. Mr. Isaac Rudd’s face was pressed against the glass. -Unless I was mistaken, when he perceived I saw him he drew back -quickly. I slipped my arm through Tom’s. -</p> - -<p> -“Let’s get away from here; let’s hurry home as fast as we can.” -</p> - -<p> -Off we went, we three. Emily began to talk. Tom and I were silent. It -was still as much as I could do to walk; I fancy Tom was thinking. -</p> - -<p> -“It is a wonder I didn’t faint as well as you; if you hadn’t I should. -But when you went I felt that it would never do for two of us to go, -so I held myself tight in. Did you ever see anything like that awful -man? I don’t believe he was alive; at least, I shouldn’t if it wasn’t -for the way in which he pinched my shoulders. I shall be ashamed to -look at them when I’ve got my dress off, I know I shall. My skin’s so -delicate that the least mark shows. What was he dressed in? And who -could the creature be? I believe he was something supernatural; there -was nothing natural about him that I could see. Then his eye! He -looked a thousand years old if he looked a day.” -</p> - -<p> -She ceased. She glanced behind her once or twice. She drew closer to -Tom. When she spoke again it was in a lower tone of voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Cooper, do you mind my taking your arm? There’s—there’s someone -following us now.” -</p> - -<p> -Tom looked round. As he did so, two men came past us, one by me, the -other one by Emily. The one who passed me was so close that his sleeve -brushed mine; as he went he turned and stared at me with might and -main. He was short, but very fat. He was shabbily dressed, and wore a -cloth cap slouched over his eyes. When he had gone a yard or two the -other man fell in at his side. They talked together as they slouched -along; we could not but see that, while both of them were short, one -was as thin as the other was stout. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you sure they’ve been following us?” whispered Tom to Emily. -</p> - -<p> -“Certain. They’ve been sticking close at our heels ever since we came -away from Firandolo’s.” -</p> - -<p> -The fact was put beyond dispute before we had gone another fifty -yards. The two men drew up close in front of us, in such a way that it -would have been difficult for us to pass without pushing them aside. -</p> - -<p> -“Which of you two ladies is Miss Blyth?” asked the stout man, in the -most impudent manner. -</p> - -<p> -On a sudden I was becoming the object of undesired attention which I -did not at all understand, and liked, if possible, still less. The -fellow looked us up and down, as if we had been objects offered for -sale. -</p> - -<p> -“What has it to do with you?” returned Tom. “Who are you, anyhow?” -</p> - -<p> -The thin man answered; the stout man had spoken in a shrill squeaky -treble, he had the deepest possible bass. -</p> - -<p> -“We’re the young lady’s friends; her two friends. Ain’t that gospel, -Sam?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s that, William; it’s gospel truth. Truer friends than us she’ll -never have, nor none what’s more ready to do her a good turn.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not if she was to spend the rest of her days sailing round the world -looking for ’em, she’d never find ’em, that she wouldn’t. All we ask -is for her to treat us as her friends.” The thin man spat upon the -pavement. “Now then, out with it; which of you two ladies is Miss -Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not,” cried Emily. -</p> - -<p> -Which I thought was distinctly mean of her, because, of course, it was -as good as saying that I was. Once more the stout man looked me up and -down. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re her, are you? So I thought. The other’s too pretty, by chalks. -You’re a chip of the old block, and there wasn’t no beauty thrown away -on him; plain he was, as ever I saw a man; and plainer.” -</p> - -<p> -The fellow was ruder than ever. I am aware that Emily Purvis is a -beauty, and that I am not, but at the same time one does not expect to -be stopped and told so by two perfect strangers, at that hour of the -night. -</p> - -<p> -“For goodness’ sake,” I said to Tom, “let’s get away from these -dreadful persons as fast as we possibly can.” -</p> - -<p> -I made him come. The fat man called after us—in his squeaky treble. -</p> - -<p> -“Dreadful, are we? Maybe you’ll change your mind before you’ve done. -Don’t you be so fast in judging of your true friends, it don’t become -a young woman. There’s more dreadful persons than us about, as perhaps -you’ll find.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is to be hoped,” I observed to Tom, and paying no attention -whatever to Emily Purvis, who I knew was smiling on the other side of -him, “that we shall meet no more objectionable characters before we -get safely in.” -</p> - -<p> -“They’re friends of yours, my dear.” -</p> - -<p> -This was Emily. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see how you make that out, seeing that I never saw them -before, and never want to again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Some of us have more friends than we know, my love.” Her love! “We’ve -seen four of yours already; I shouldn’t be surprised if we saw another -still before we’re in.” -</p> - -<p> -As it happened, in a manner of speaking, it turned out that she was -right; though, of course, to speak of the creature we encountered, -even sarcastically, as a friend of mine, would be absurd. We were -going along the Fenton Road. As we were passing a street, which -branched off upon our right, there popped out of it, for all the world -as if he had been waiting for us to come along, a man in a long black -coat, reaching nearly to his heels, and a felt hat, which was crammed -down so tight, that it almost covered his face as well as his head. I -thought at first he was a beggar, or some object of the tramp kind, -because he fell in at our side, and moved along with us, as some -persistent beggars will do. But one glance at what could be seen of -his features was sufficient to show that he was something more out of -the common than that. He had a round face; almond-shaped eyes which -looked out of narrow slits; a flat nose; a mouth which seemed to reach -from ear to ear. There was no mistaking that this was a case of -another ugly foreigner. The consciousness that he was near made me -shudder; as he trudged along beside us I went uncomfortable all over. -</p> - -<p> -“Go away! Make him go away!” I said to Tom. -</p> - -<p> -Tom stood still. -</p> - -<p> -“Now then, off you go! We’ve nothing for you. The sooner you try it -off on somebody else, the less of your valuable time you’ll waste.” -</p> - -<p> -Tom took him for a beggar. But he was wrong, and I was right; the man -was not a beggar. -</p> - -<p> -“Which is little lady?” -</p> - -<p> -I don’t pretend that was exactly what he said. Thank goodness, I am -English, and I know no language but my own, and that is quite enough -for me, so it would be impossible for me to reproduce precisely a -foreign person’s observations; but that is what he meant. Tom was -angry. -</p> - -<p> -“Little lady? What little lady? There’s no lady here, big or little, -who has anything to do with you; so, now then, you just clear off.” -</p> - -<p> -But the man did nothing of the kind. He hopped to Emily, and back -again to me, peering at us both out of his narrow eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“Which of you is Missee Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth! Is the whole world, all at once, on the look-out for Miss -Blyth? What is the meaning of this little game? You, there, hook it!” -</p> - -<p> -But instead of hooking it, to use Tom’s own language, and gentlemen -will use slang, the man grew more and more insistent. He must have -gone backwards and forwards between Emily and me half-a-dozen times. -</p> - -<p> -“Quick! Tellee me! Which is Missee Blyth? Quick, quick! tellee me! I -have something to give to Missee Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am Miss Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -I did not suppose, for an instant, that he really had anything to give -me. But the man seemed to be in such a state of agitation, that I felt -that perhaps the best way to put an end to what was becoming a painful -situation would be for me to declare myself without delay. However, to -my surprise, hardly were the words out of my lips, than the man came -rushing to me, thrusting something into my hand. From what I could -feel of it, it appeared to be something small and hard, wrapped in a -scrap of paper. But I had no chance of discovering anything further, -because, before I had a chance of even peeping, the two short men, the -fat and thin one, came rushing up, goodness only knows from where, and -I heard the thin one call out, in his deep bass voice, to the other: -</p> - -<p> -“He’s given it her—I saw him! At her, Sam, before she has a chance of -pouching it.” -</p> - -<p> -The stout man caught me by the wrist, gave it a twist, which hurt me -dreadfully, and, before I could say Jack Robinson, he had the little -packet out of my hand. It was like a conjuror’s trick, it all took -place so rapidly, and before I had the least notion of what was going -to happen. The foreign person, however, seemed to understand what had -occurred better than I did. Clearly he did not want courage. With a -sort of snarl he sprang at the stout man, and with both hands took him -by the throat, as, I have heard, bulldogs have a way of doing. The -stout man did not relish the attack at all. -</p> - -<p> -“Pull him off me, William,” he squeaked. -</p> - -<p> -The thin man endeavoured to do as he was told. And, in a moment, out -in the open street there, the most dreadful fight was going on. What -it was all about I had not the faintest idea, but they attacked each -other like wild beasts. The foreign person did not seem to be at all -dismayed by the odds of two to one. He assailed them with frightful -violence. -</p> - -<p> -Plainly it would be as much as they could do to deal with him between -them. I certainly expected every second to see someone killed. Emily -went off her head with terror. She rushed, screaming up the street. -Tom dashed after her, whether to stop her or not I could not tell. -And, of course, I rushed after Tom. And the three men were left alone -to fight it out together. -</p> - -<p> -Emily never drew breath till we were quite close to Cardew & -Slaughter’s. Then a church clock rang out. It struck the half-hour. It -might have struck her, she stopped so suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -“Half-past eleven!” she cried. “My gracious! whatever shall we do?” -</p> - -<p> -It was a rule of the firm that the assistants were to be in by -half-past ten. Between the half-hour and the quarter there was a fine -of sixpence, and between the quarter and the hour one of half-a-crown. -After eleven no one was admitted at all. The doors had been closed for -more than half-an-hour! We stood, panting for breath, staring at one -another. Emily began to cry. -</p> - -<p> -“I daren’t stop out in the streets all night—I daren’t!” -</p> - -<p> -“I know a trick worth two of that,” declared Tom. “There’s a way in -which is known to one or two of us; I’ve had to use it before, and I -daresay I can use it again.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all very well for you,” cried Emily. “But we can’t climb -windows; and, if we could, there are no windows for us to climb.” -</p> - -<p> -Tom hesitated. I could see he did not like to leave us in the lurch. -The gentlemen slept right up at the other end of the building; there -was no connection between his end and ours. I had heard of what Tom -hinted at before; but then things are always different with gentlemen. -As Emily said, for the ladies there was no way in but the door. -Somehow I felt that, after all we had gone through, I did not mean to -be trampled on. -</p> - -<p> -“You go, Tom, and get in as best you can. Emily and I will get in too, -or I’ll know the reason why.” -</p> - -<p> -Away went Tom; and off started Emily and I to try our luck. She was -not sanguine. -</p> - -<p> -“They’ll never let us in, never!” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ll see about that.” -</p> - -<p> -I gritted my teeth, as I have a trick of doing when I am in earnest. I -was in earnest then. It is owing to the firm’s artfulness that there -are no bells or knockers on the doors leading to the assistants’ -quarters. When they are open you can get in; when they are closed -there are no means provided to call attention to the fact that you -require admission. They had been unloading some packing-cases. I -picked up two heavy pieces of wood which had been left lying about; -with them I started to hammer at the door. How I did hammer! I kept it -up ever so long; but no one paid the slightest heed. I began to -despair. Emily was crying all the while. I felt like crying with her. -Instead, I gritted my teeth still more, and I hammered, and I -hammered. At last a window was opened overhead, and the housekeeper, -Mrs. Galloway, put her head out. -</p> - -<p> -“Who’s that making this disgraceful noise at this hour of the night?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s Miss Purvis and Miss Blyth. Come down and let us in; we’ve been -nearly robbed and murdered.” -</p> - -<p> -“I daresay! You don’t enter this house to-night; you know the rules. -And if you don’t take yourselves off this instant I’ll send for the -police.” -</p> - -<p> -“Send for the police, that’s what we want you to do. The police will -soon see if you won’t let us in.” -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Galloway’s head disappeared; the window was banged. Emily cried -louder than ever. -</p> - -<p> -“I told you she’d never let us in.” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ll see if she won’t.” -</p> - -<p> -Off I started again to hammer. Presently steps were heard coming along -the passage. Mrs. Galloway’s voice came from the other side of the -door. -</p> - -<p> -“Stop that disgraceful noise! Go away! Do you hear me, go away!” -</p> - -<p> -“If we do it will be to fetch the police. They’ll soon show you if you -can keep us out all night when we’ve been nearly robbed and murdered.” -</p> - -<p> -The door was opened perhaps three inches; as I believed, upon the -chain. I knew Mrs. Galloway’s little tricks. But if it was upon the -chain what occurred was odd. Someone came hurrying up the steps behind -us. To my amazement it was the dreadful old man in the yellow canvas -cloth. I was too bewildered to even try to guess where he had come -from; I had never supposed that he, or anybody else, was near. He -pointed to the door. -</p> - -<p> -“Open!” he said, in that queer, half-stifled voice in which he had -spoken to me before. -</p> - -<p> -The door was opened wide, though how the housekeeper had had time to -remove the chain, if it was chained, was more than I could understand. -Emily and I marched into the passage—sneaked, I daresay, would have -been the better word. As I went the stranger slipped something into my -hand; a hard something, wrapped in a scrap of paper. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch03"> -CHAPTER III.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE DOLL.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I do</span> not know what it was, but something prevented Mrs. Galloway -from giving us the sort of talking to I had expected. She is a woman -with as nasty a tongue as you would care to meet. I had never before -known her lose a chance of using it. And there was a chance! But, -instead, there she stood mumchance, and before she had even so much as -said a word, Emily and I were off upstairs. I was on the second floor, -and Emily was on the third. When I stopped to go into my room I called -out to her, “Good night!” but she ran on, and never answered. She was -in such a state of mind, what with the fright, and her crying, and the -cold biting us through and through while we waited on the doorstep, -that all she cared for was to get between the sheets. -</p> - -<p> -In my room most of the girls were wide awake. It was not a large room, -so there were only nine of us, and that was including Miss Ashton. She -was the senior assistant, a regular frump, thirty if a day. She came -to bed a quarter of an hour after we did, and after she had come to -bed no one was supposed to talk. If any girl did talk Miss Ashton -reported her, and the girl was fined, and half the fine, whatever it -was, went into Miss Ashton’s pockets. So, of course—since, sometimes, -her pockets were bulging out with our money—no love was lost between -us. -</p> - -<p> -When I went in, although I knew that most of the girls were awake, -because of Miss Ashton no one spoke a syllable, until Lucy Carr, who -had the next bed to mine, whispered as I stood by her: -</p> - -<p> -“Whatever have you been up to?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve been nearly robbed and murdered, that’s what I’ve been up to.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, I shall report you for talking after midnight.” -</p> - -<p> -This was Miss Ashton, cold, and hard, and short as usual. Trust her to -go to sleep while there was a chance to snatch at somebody else’s -penny! -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, Miss Ashton, you can report me, and you can say, at the -same time, that it’s a wonder that I was alive to talk at all, for -what I’ve gone through this day, and this night, I alone can tell.” -</p> - -<p> -I plumped down on my box, and I leaned my back against the wall, and I -had to cry. Then all the girls set off together. Lucy Carr sat up in -bed, and she put her arms about my neck; she was a nice girl, was Lucy -Carr, we hardly ever quarrelled. -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind her, my love; you know what she’s like; she can’t help it, -it’s her nature. Don’t you cry, my dear.” -</p> - -<p> -And then there were such remarks as “It’s a shame!” “Poor dear!” and -“How can people be so cruel?” from the others. But Miss Ashton was not -touched, not she; she simply said, in her cold, hard tones: -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Carr, Miss Sheepshanks, Miss Flick, Miss James, I shall report -you for talking after midnight.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s right,” said Lucy, “and much good may our money do you. I wish -it would burn a hole in your pocket!” -</p> - -<p> -Then the girls were still. Of course they did not want to lose all -their money, and there was no knowing what the fine might be for -talking at that time of night, and especially for keeping on. So I sat -on my box, and I wiped my eyes; I never do believe much in crying, and -somehow I felt too mad for a regular weep. I should like to have given -Miss Ashton a real good shaking—everything would go wrong! -</p> - -<p> -Just as I was beginning to undress—I actually had unhooked my -bodice—I thought of what the object in the grey canvas cloth had -slipped into my hand. What had become of it? In my agitation I had -forgotten all about it. I was holding it when I came into the room—I -remembered that. What had become of it since? I felt on my knee; it -was not there. I had not put it in my pocket. It must have dropped on -the floor. Intending to start a search I put out my foot and touched -something with my toe. I reached out my hand; it was the scrap of -paper. -</p> - -<p> -As I picked it up I knew quite well that there could be nothing in it -of the slightest consequence. People don’t give things worth having to -perfect strangers, especially such people as that creature in the -canvas cloth. Yet there had been a good deal of fuss. First the man in -the long black coat had given me a scrap of paper; then the thin man -had egged on the stout man to snatch it from me like a hungry lion; -then, to regain it in his possession the black-coated man had attacked -the two others like some mad wild beast; finally, to crown all, the -canvas cloth creature had put into my hand what seemed to be the -identical scrap of paper as I stood on the threshold of the door. -There must be something of interest connected with the thing; or why -had these persons, in spite of what Emily had said, all utter -strangers to me, behaved in such an extraordinary manner? -</p> - -<p> -I was both tired and sleepy, but I was more worried than either. Part -of my worry had to do with that scrap of paper. What was in it? I was -sure I should never sleep until I knew. It was about half an inch -broad, and an inch and a half long. As I pressed it with my fingers, I -could feel that something was inside, something queer-shaped and hard. -The room was pretty dark. All the light there was came through the -sides of the badly fitting blind from the lamp on the opposite side of -the street. I could not get the paper open. It was fastened in some -way I did not understand. As I held it up against the shaft of light -which came through the side of the blind, to make out, if possible, -what the trick of the fastening was, a queer thing took place. -</p> - -<p> -Something moved inside, and tore the paper open. It was only a little -thing, but it took me so completely by surprise that it affected me -almost as much as if the ceiling had fallen in. What could there have -been inside to move? I sat staring, in the darkness, with my mouth -wide open. Suddenly there came Miss Ashton’s voice from the other end -of the room. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, are you not going to get into bed at all to-night?” -</p> - -<p> -At that moment I myself could not have told. I was holding in my hand -something which gleamed at me. What it was I could not even guess. I -only knew that two specks of light, which looked like eyes, were -shining at me through the darkness; and that the thing had moved. -There was Miss Ashton’s voice again. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you hear me, Miss Blyth? Are you going to bed? or am I to summon -Mrs. Galloway?” -</p> - -<p> -Without answering her a word I dropped what I was holding on to the -bed. I was convinced that it moved as I did so, as if to cling to my -fingers. It was silly, but I was never so frightened in my life. I saw -the two bright spots of light shining up at me from the counterpane as -if they were watching me. I hardly dared to breathe. I slipped off my -bodice, and the rest of my things, moving as little as I possibly -could, and stood in my night-gown shivering by the bed. Had I not been -afraid, I would have asked Lucy to let me get into bed with her. But I -knew Miss Ashton would hear, and would rout me out again, and then -there would be worse to follow. I should get Lucy into trouble as well -as myself. And there was trouble enough in store for all of us -already. Better face what there was to face alone, than drag anybody -else into the ditch into which I seemed to be continually tumbling. -</p> - -<p> -It was too ridiculous to be afraid to get into bed because that thing -with the shining spots was lying on the counterpane. I was sensible -enough to be aware of that. Yet I was afraid. Was it alive? If I could -only have made sure that it was not, I should not have minded. But it -was too dark to see; and I could not touch it. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, are you going to get into bed?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Miss Ashton, there’s something on my bed, and I don’t know what -it is.” -</p> - -<p> -“Something on your bed? What do you mean? What nonsense are you -talking?” -</p> - -<p> -“Have you any matches? If you’ll lend me some, I shall be able to see -what it is. I can’t get in until I know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it a fresh trick you are playing me? I never heard anything so -ridiculous. Here are some matches. Be quick; and don’t be sillier than -you can help.” -</p> - -<p> -I went and took the box of matches she held out to me. Returning, I -lit one and held it over the counterpane. Some of the girls lifted -their heads to watch me. Lucy Carr leaned right out of her bed towards -mine. -</p> - -<p> -“Whatever is it?” she whispered. -</p> - -<p> -My hand shook so, with the cold, and the state I was in, that it was -all I could do to keep it steady enough to prevent the match from -going out. I held it lower. -</p> - -<p> -“I believe it’s a frog.” -</p> - -<p> -“A frog!” cried Lucy. She drew herself back with a little shriek. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s—it’s something horrid.” -</p> - -<p> -Two or three of the girls sat up, drawing the bedclothes to their -chins. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, what is the cause of this confusion? Are we never to have -any sleep to-night?” -</p> - -<p> -Miss Ashton, getting out of bed, came across the room to see what was -the matter. The match went out. The red-hot end dropped on to the -counterpane. I brushed it off with my fingers. As I did so I touched -the thing. My nerves were so strung up that I gave a scream. There -came an echo from the girls. Miss Ashton was at my side before I could -strike another match. She was in a fine rage. -</p> - -<p> -“Give me the box!” She snatched it from me. “Have you been misbehaving -yourself? or are you mad? I’ll soon see what is the cause of all this -nonsense, and then I’ll be sorry for whoever is at the bottom of it.” -</p> - -<p> -The first match she tried would not light. The second burst into vivid -flame. She stooped down. -</p> - -<p> -“What is this thing upon your bed? It’s some painted toy. You impudent -girl!” -</p> - -<p> -Picking it up, she threw it on to the floor into the corner of the -room. Her match went out. There was a sound like a little cry of pain. -</p> - -<p> -“Whatever’s that?” asked Lucy. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s nothing,” replied Miss Ashton. “It was only the thing striking -against the floor.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe it’s alive,” I said. “It shrieked.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you have been drinking.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Ashton!” -</p> - -<p> -“I have heard of people who have been drinking seeing things—that -appears to be your condition now. Are you going to get into bed? You -will have something to shriek for when the morning comes.” -</p> - -<p> -I got into bed, feeling so cowed, that I could not even resent, with a -proper show of dignity, her monstrous accusation. That anyone could -have been wicked enough to accuse me of such a thing! I was trembling -all over. I believed that the thing had shrieked, and was haunted by a -horrible doubt that it was alive. Never before was I in such a state -of mind and body. My brain was all in a whirl. I could do nothing but -lie there shivering; my joints and muscles seemed to be possessed by -an attack of twitching spasms, as if I had been suddenly smitten with -some hideous disease. -</p> - -<p> -I heard Miss Ashton return to her own bed. Then a voice whispered in -my ear, so gently that it could have been audible to no one but me— -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind, dear. She’s a beast!” -</p> - -<p> -It was Lucy. I put out my hand. She was leaning over me. -</p> - -<p> -“Kiss me,” I muttered. -</p> - -<p> -She kissed me. It did me good. I held her, for a moment, to me. It -comforted me to feel her face against mine. -</p> - -<p> -“Now go to sleep! and don’t you dream!” -</p> - -<p> -It was easy enough to talk; it was harder to do. I did not often -dream. Not nearly so much as some of the other girls, who were always -telling us of the things they dreamed about. Rubbish it mostly was. I -always said they made up three parts of it, not believing that such -stuff could get into the heads of sensible people, even when they were -asleep. That night I dreamt while I was wide awake. I was overcome by -a sort of nightmare horror, which held me, with staring eyes and -racking head, motionless between the sheets, as if I had been glued to -them. It was as if the thing which Miss Ashton had thrown on the floor -was in an agony of pain, and as if it had communicated its sufferings -to me. -</p> - -<p> -At last I suppose I must have gone to sleep. And then it was worse -than ever. What I endured in my sleep that night no one could -conceive. It was as if I were continually passing through endless -chambers of nameless horrors. With it all were mixed up the events of -the evening. I saw Isaac Rudd, and the creature in the canvas cloth, -and the two short men, and the person in the long black coat. They -kept popping in and out, always in full enjoyment of my tortures. -There were Emily and I, standing at the top of an enormous flight of -steps, in pitch-black darkness, in frightful weather, outside the door -of some dreadful place, and there were those dreadful creatures -jeering at us because no one would let us in. And Tom—I knew that -somewhere near Tom was crying. And the thing which was in the scrap of -paper was with me all the night. It was always on me somewhere; now on -my throat, biting through the skin; now on my breast, drawing the life -right out of me; now on my toes, hampering my feet, so that I could -scarcely lift them up and down; now inside my mouth, filling me with a -horrible choking sense of nausea. -</p> - -<p> -But perhaps the strangest part of it all was that, when I awoke, there -actually was something on my forehead. I felt it against my chin. -Giving my head a sudden shake it slipped off on to the pillow at my -side. I sat up. It was broad day. I saw it as plain as could be. A -little painted thing, tricked out in ridiculously contrasting shades -of green, and pink, and yellow. As Miss Ashton had said, it might have -been a toy. I had seen things not unlike it in the shop, among the -Japanese and Chinese curiosities. Or it might have been a tiny -representation of some preposterous heathen god, with beads for eyes. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch04"> -CHAPTER IV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">AN INTERVIEW WITH MR. SLAUGHTER.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">That</span> was a curious day. More things happened on it than on any day -of my life before. It was the beginning of everything and the end of -some things. From morning to night there was continual movement like -in the transformation scene in a pantomime. When, since one was born, -nothing has taken place, and nothing changed, it makes such a -difference. -</p> - -<p> -I got up feeling dreadfully stale; an up-all-night sort of feeling. -Not that I ever have been up all night; but I know what the sensation -is like because of the descriptions I have read. Miss Ashton was -disagreeable, and the girls were snappish—even Lucy Carr was short; -and, I daresay, I was not too nice. But then there often is a little -show of temper in the morning; it is human nature. They had all begun -when I got down to breakfast, and, of course, I got black looks for -that. I caught sight of Emily Purvis as I sat down. She nodded; but it -struck me that she was not looking brilliant, any more than I was. -</p> - -<p> -Breakfast stuck in my throat. The butter was bad as usual—cheap -margarine just rank enough to make pastry taste. The bread seemed as -if it had been cut for hours, it was so hard and dry. I did manage to -swallow a mouthful of tea; but the water was smoked, and I do not like -condensed milk which is just going off, so I could not do much even -with that. On the whole I did not feel any better for the meal when I -got into the shop. I am not sure that I did not feel worse; and I knew -I should be sinking before dinner came. Mr. Broadley began at me at -once. He set me re-packing a whole lot of stock, which he declared I -had not put tidily away; which was perfectly untrue, because, as a -matter of fact, it was Miss Nichols who had had it last, and it was -she who had put it back again. And, anyhow, some of those trimmings, -when they have been once shown, will not set neatly; they are like -hats, they cannot be made to go just so. -</p> - -<p> -It was past eleven, and I had not had a single customer; it was -miserable weather, and perhaps that had something to do with it, -because scarcely a soul came into the shop. Mr. Broadley kept me at -putting the shelves in order, almost as if I had been stock-taking. -Not that I cared, for I hate doing nothing; especially as, if you so -much as speak to one of the other young ladies, he is fit to murder -you; that is the worst of your married shopwalkers, directly a girl -opens her mouth he jumps down it. Still, I did not like it all the -same; because I was getting tired, and hungry too; and, when you are -hungry, the only way to stave the feeling off is to be kept busy -serving; then you cannot stop to think what you would like to eat. -</p> - -<p> -At last, just as a customer entered the shop, and was coming toward -me, up sailed Mr. Broadley. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, you’re wanted in the office.” -</p> - -<p> -My heart dropped down with a thump. I had half expected it all along, -but now that it had come I went queer all over. I had to catch hold of -the counter to keep up straight. Miss Nichols, seeing how it was with -me, whispered as she went past: -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all right, Pollie, don’t you worry, it’s nothing. Buck up, old -girl.” -</p> - -<p> -It was nice of her to try to cheer me up; but there was a choking -something in my throat which prevented me from thanking her. Broadley -was at me again. -</p> - -<p> -“Hurry up, Miss Blyth, don’t stand mooning there. Didn’t you hear me -tell you that you are wanted in the office?” -</p> - -<p> -He was a bully, he was, to the finger-tips. I knew that he was smiling -at me all the time; enjoying my white face, and the tremble I was in. -When I got away from the counter I felt as if my knees were giving way -beneath me. Everyone stared as I went past—I could have cried. They -knew perfectly well that being summoned to the office during working -hours meant trouble. -</p> - -<p> -Outside the office was Emily Purvis. I had been wondering if she would -be there, yet it was a shock to see her all the same. She was quite as -much upset as I was. I knew that her nearest friends were down in -Devonshire, and that she was not on the best of terms with them; so -that if there was going to be serious trouble, she would be just as -badly off as I was, without any friends at all. Her pretty face looked -all drawn and thin, as if she were ten years older than she really -was. It would only want a very little to start her tears. Her voice -shook so that I could hardly make out what she said. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, what do you think they’ll do to us?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know. Where’s Tom? Did he get in all right? Has he—been sent -for?” -</p> - -<p> -“How can I tell? I don’t know anything about Mr. Cooper. You know, -Pollie, it was not my fault that I was in late.” -</p> - -<p> -“So far as I know it was neither of our faults. I wonder if Tom got in -all right.” -</p> - -<p> -“Bother Tom! It’s very hard on me. I wonder if they’ll fine us?” -</p> - -<p> -Before I could answer Mr. Slaughter put his head out of the office. -</p> - -<p> -“Come in there! Stop that chattering! Are you the two young women I -sent for?” -</p> - -<p> -We went in, standing like two guilty things. Mr. Slaughter sat at his -desk. -</p> - -<p> -“Which of you is Mary Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am, sir.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you are, are you?” -</p> - -<p> -He leant back in his chair, put his hands in his pockets, and looked -me up and down, as if he was valuing me. He was a little man, with -untidy hair and a scrubby black beard. I could not have been more -afraid of him if he had been a dozen times as big. He had a way of -speaking as if he would like to bite you; and as if he wished you to -clearly understand that, should he have to speak again, he would take -a piece clean out of you. Everybody about the place was more -frightened of him than of Mr. Cardew. It was he who had made it what -it was. In the beginning it had been nothing; now there were all those -shops. He was a thorough man of business, without a grain of feeling -in him. We all felt that he looked on us assistants as if we were so -many inferior cattle, not to be compared, for instance, to the horses -which drew his vans. -</p> - -<p> -I could have sunk through the ground as he continued to stare at me. -It was more than I could do to meet his eyes; yet something seemed to -say that he did not think much of what he saw. His first words showed -that I was right. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Mary Blyth, it seems that you’re an altogether good-for-nothing -young woman. From what I find upon this paper it seems that there’s -everything to be said against you, nothing in your favour; no good for -business, no good for anything. And you look it. I can’t make out why -you’ve been kept about the place so long; it points to neglect -somewhere. It appears that you’re habitually irregular; three times -yesterday you missed making a sale, and you know what that means. We -don’t keep saleswomen who send customers away empty-handed; we send -them after the customers. You were impertinent to Mr. Broadley. And, -to crown all, you were out last night till something like the small -hours. On your return you made a riot till they let you in, and more -riot when you were in. Miss Ashton, who is far too gentle, does not -like to say that you had been drinking, but she says that you behaved -as though you had been. In short, you’re just the type of young woman -we don’t want in this establishment. You’ll go and draw whatever is -due to you, if anything is due; and you’ll take yourself and your -belongings off these premises inside of half an hour. That, Mary -Blyth, is all I have to say to you.” -</p> - -<p> -For the moment, when he had finished, I was speechless. It was all so -cruel and unjust; and there was so much to be said in reply to every -word he uttered, that the very volume of my defence seemed to hold me -paralysed. I could only stammer out: -</p> - -<p> -“It is the first time I have been reported to you, sir.” -</p> - -<p> -“As I have already observed, there has evidently been neglect in that -respect. The delay amounts to a failure of duty. I will make inquiries -into its cause.” -</p> - -<p> -“It was not my fault that I was late, sir.” -</p> - -<p> -“No? Was the gentleman to blame?” -</p> - -<p> -My face flamed up. I could have slapped him on the cheek. What did he -mean by his insinuations? -</p> - -<p> -“You have no right to speak to me like that!” -</p> - -<p> -“When young women in my employment misbehave themselves as you have -done I make plain speaking a rule. A man was with you, because one was -seen. You can apportion the blame between you.” I could not tell him -it was Tom; it might have been bad for him. “None of your airs with -me; off you go. Stay! This other young woman heard me talk to you; now -you shall hear me talk to her. Is your name Emily Purvis?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, sir. It’s the first time—I never meant it—it wasn’t my fault.” -</p> - -<p> -Emily broke into stammering speech; he cut her short. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you trouble yourself to talk; I’ll do all the talking that’s -required. You were out after hours with Miss Blyth. I’m not going to -ask any questions, and I’ll listen to no explanations; young women who -scour the streets at midnight are not the sort I like. We are judged -by the company we keep. You were Mary Blyth’s companion last night; -you’ll be her companion again. With her, you’ll draw what is due to -you; with her, you’ll clear yourself off these premises inside half an -hour. Now, stop it!” -</p> - -<p> -Emily began crying. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Mr. Slaughter, I’ve done nothing! it isn’t fair! I’ve nowhere to -go to!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, yes, you have, you’ve outside this office to go to. Now, no -nonsense!” He struck a hand-bell; a porter entered. “Take these young -women out of this; let them have what’s due to them; see they’re off -the premises inside half an hour.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Mr. Slaughter!” wailed Emily. -</p> - -<p> -It made me so angry to see her demean herself before that unfeeling -thing of wood, that I caught her by the wrist. -</p> - -<p> -“Come, Emily! don’t degrade yourself by appealing to that cruel, -unjust, hard-hearted man. Don’t you see that he thinks it fine sport -to trample upon helpless girls?” -</p> - -<p> -“Come, none of that.” -</p> - -<p> -The porter put his hand upon my shoulder. Before I knew it we were out -of the office and half a dozen yards away. I turned upon him in a -flame of passion. -</p> - -<p> -“Take your hand from off my shoulder! If you dare to touch me again -you’ll be sorry!” -</p> - -<p> -He was not a bad sort. He seemed scared at the sight of me. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want to do anything to you. Only what’s the good of making a -fuss? You know he’s master here.” -</p> - -<p> -“And, because he’s master here, I suppose, if he tells you to behave -like a miserable coward, you would?” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the use of talking? If he says you’ve got to go, you’ve got -to, and there’s an end of it. You take my advice, and don’t be silly.” -</p> - -<p> -“Silly! Your advice! When I ask you for your advice, you give it, not -before.” -</p> - -<p> -I stood and glared. I do not think he altogether liked the look of me; -I am sure that had he touched me I should have flown at him, and I -rather suspect he knew it. While he hesitated I heard someone speaking -in loud tones in the office from which we had just now been ejected. -It was a man’s voice. -</p> - -<p> -“I want to see Miss Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -It was Mr. Slaughter who replied. -</p> - -<p> -“I say you can’t see Miss Blyth, so you have my answer, sir.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that is an answer which I am unable to accept. I must see Miss -Blyth, and at once, on a matter of grave importance.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t talk to me, sir; my time is valuable. This is neither the hour -nor the place at which we are accustomed to allow a stranger to see -the young women in our employ. And as, in any case, this particular -young woman is no longer in our employ, I repeat that you cannot see -Miss Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, yes, you can—for here is Miss Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -Darting past the porter, who seemed pretty slow-witted, I was back -again in the office. A stranger was confronting the indignant Mr. -Slaughter. I had just time to see that he was not old, and that he was -holding a top hat, when he turned to me. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you Miss Mary Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am, Mr. Slaughter knows I am.” -</p> - -<p> -“My name is Paine, Frank Paine. I am a solicitor. If you are the Mary -Blyth I am in search of I have a communication to make to you of -considerable importance.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then make it outside, sir.” This was Mr. Slaughter. -</p> - -<p> -The porter appeared at the door. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the meaning of this, Sanders? Didn’t I tell you to see this -young woman off the premises?” -</p> - -<p> -“I was just seeing her, sir, when she slipped off before I knew it.” -</p> - -<p> -I flashed round at Sanders. -</p> - -<p> -“You’ve assaulted me once, don’t you dare to assault me again; this -gentleman’s a solicitor. If you’re a solicitor, Mr. Paine, I want you -to help me. Because I was accidentally prevented from returning till a -few minutes after time last night, Mr. Slaughter wishes to send me -away at a moment’s notice, without a character.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that the case, Mr. Slaughter?” -</p> - -<p> -“What business is it of yours? Upon my word! I tell you again to leave -my office.” -</p> - -<p> -“You appear to wish to carry things off with a high hand.” -</p> - -<p> -“A high hand! Mr. Slaughter thinks that he has only to lift his little -finger to have us all turned into the street.” -</p> - -<p> -“If that is so, he is in error. Miss Blyth is my client. As her -solicitor I would advise you to be sure that you are treating her with -justice.” -</p> - -<p> -“Her solicitor!” Mr. Slaughter laughed. “I wish you joy of the job, -you won’t make a fortune out of her!” He waved his hands. “Any -communication you have to make, you make through the post. For the -last time I ask you to leave my office.” -</p> - -<p> -“Come, Mr. Paine, we will go. He need not ask us again. As he says, we -can communicate with him through the post; and that will not -necessitate our being brought into his too close neighbourhood.” -</p> - -<p> -I shook the dust of the office off my feet. Mr. Paine seemed puzzled. -Outside was Emily, still crying. I introduced her. -</p> - -<p> -“This is Emily Purvis, another victim of Mr. Slaughter’s injustice. -Emily, this is my solicitor, Mr. Paine.” -</p> - -<p> -She stared, as well she might. For all I knew, it might have been a -jest of his, he might not have been a solicitor at all. The truth is I -was quite as anxious to carry things off with a high hand as Mr. -Slaughter could be; so I held my head as high as ever I could. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Paine, we are going to draw our salaries. They are sure to get as -much out of us in fines as they can. Will you come and see that they -don’t cheat us more than can be helped?” -</p> - -<p> -“Fines!” Mr. Paine looked grave. “I doubt if they have any right to -deduct fines without your express permission.” -</p> - -<p> -So he told them. That book-keeper had a pleasant time—the wretch! He -made out that the princely sum of fifteen shillings was due to each of -us; and off this, he wanted to dock me nine and six, and Emily five. -Mr. Paine would not have it. He put things in such a way that the -book-keeper referred to Mr. Slaughter. Mr. Slaughter actually sent -back word to say that he was to give us our fifteen shillings and let -us go. Then Mr. Paine handed in his card, and said that if we did not -receive, within four and twenty hours, a quarter’s salary in lieu of -notice, proceedings would be immediately commenced for the recovery of -the same. -</p> - -<p> -So, in a manner of speaking, Emily and I marched off with flying -colours. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch05"> -CHAPTER V.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE MISSIONARY’S LETTER.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> question was, what was to become of us? With no friends one -cannot live long on fifteen shillings. Even if we got fresh situations -in a fortnight it would only be with management that the money could -be made to last that time; and, if we did, then we should be more -fortunate than I expected to be. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine, however, postponed the solution of the difficulty by -suggesting that I should arrange nothing until I had had a talk with -him. I was willing; though what he had to do with it was more than I -could guess; unless, like they used to do in the fairy tales, he was -all of a sudden going to turn out to be my fairy godpapa. One thing I -insisted on, that Emily should come with me. So, after I had scribbled -a note to Tom—“Dear Tom, Emily and I have got the sack. Meet me after -closing time at the usual place. Yours, as ever, Pollie. P.S.—Hope -you’re all right”—which Sanders, who was a good sort, promised to see -he got—we all three got into a four-wheeled cab, with our boxes on -top, and away we rattled. -</p> - -<p> -“Good bye, Slaughter!” I said. “And may we never want to see your face -again. And now, Mr. Paine, where are you taking us to?” -</p> - -<p> -“To my offices in Mitre Court. What I have to say to you may take some -time, and require a little explanation, and there we shall have the -necessary privacy.” -</p> - -<p> -It sounded mysterious, and I began to wonder more and more what he had -to say. I daresay I should have put my wonder into words, only just at -that moment, who should I see, peeping at us round the corner of the -street which we were passing, but the man who paid our bill at -Firandolo’s, and who said his name was Isaac Rudd. The sight of him -gave me quite a shock. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s Isaac Rudd!” I cried. -</p> - -<p> -“Isaac—who?” asked Emily. She can be dull. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, the man who paid the bill last night.” -</p> - -<p> -Then she understood. Out went her head through the window. -</p> - -<p> -“Where? I don’t see him.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, and he’ll take care you won’t. Unless I’m mistaken, directly he -knew I saw him he took himself away; but he’s got his eye upon us all -the same.” -</p> - -<p> -I looked at Emily, and she at me. Mr. Paine saw that something was up. -</p> - -<p> -“Who was that you’re speaking of? Someone who has been annoying you?” -</p> - -<p> -“No—nothing. Only there was something a little queer took place last -night.” -</p> - -<p> -I sat silent, thinking of Isaac Rudd; as, I daresay, was Emily too. -Putting two and two together, it was odd that he should be just there -at that particular moment. Especially as, a little farther on, I saw, -standing in the shadow of a doorway, a man in a long black overcoat, -with his hat crushed over his eyes, who bore the most amazing -resemblance to the foreigner who had given me the something in a scrap -of paper. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly I jumped up from my seat. I was so startled that I could not -help but give a little scream. They both stared at me. -</p> - -<p> -“What is wrong?” asked Mr. Paine. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, look at that!” -</p> - -<p> -There, sitting, as it were, bolt upright on my knee was the something -which had been in the scrap of paper. Mr. Paine eyed it. -</p> - -<p> -“What is it?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s what I should like to know; also where it’s come from; it -wasn’t there a moment back, and that I’ll swear.” -</p> - -<p> -“May I look at it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly; and throw it out of the window too, for all I care.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine took it up. He turned it over and over. -</p> - -<p> -“It looks like one of the images, representatives of well known -deities, which are used as household gods on some of the Pacific -coasts. People hang them over their beds, or over the thresholds of -their doors, or anywhere. Imitations are sold in some of the London -shops. Perhaps Messrs. Cardew & Slaughter keep them in stock.” -</p> - -<p> -“That I am sure they don’t. And, if they do, that’s not out of their -stock. That was given to me last night by a foreigner in yellow canvas -cloth. It jumped out of the scrap of paper in which it was -wrapped——” -</p> - -<p> -“Jumped?” -</p> - -<p> -“If it didn’t jump I don’t know what it did do; I can tell you it took -me aback. Miss Ashton threw it on to the floor; yet, when I woke up -this morning, it was on my forehead, though how it got there I know no -more than the dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are you in earnest, Pollie?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dead earnest. It’s my belief I left it in the bedroom, though I might -have put it in my pocket, but how it came on to my knee is just what I -can’t say.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine was dividing his attention between me and the thing. -</p> - -<p> -“This is very interesting, Miss Blyth. Especially as I also have had a -curious experience or two lately. Can you describe the person who gave -it you?” -</p> - -<p> -I described him, to the best of my ability. -</p> - -<p> -“That is—odd.” -</p> - -<p> -His tone seemed to suggest that something in my description had struck -him; though what it was he did not explain. -</p> - -<p> -“You’d better throw that thing out of the window,” I said. “I’ve had -enough of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you; but, if you have no use for it, if you do not mind, I -should like to retain it in my own possession. It’s a curiosity, -and—I’m interested in curiosities.” -</p> - -<p> -He slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. I noticed that once or twice -he felt with his fingers, as if to make sure that it still was there. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine was very civil to us when we reached his office—a funny, -dark little place it was. He got out some cake, and biscuits, and a -decanter of wine, and Emily and I helped ourselves, for I was -starving. Sitting at a table in front of us, he took some papers out -of a drawer, and began to look at them. Now that I could notice him -more I could see that he was tall and well set up; quite the -gentleman; with one of those clear-cut faces, and keen grey eyes, with -not a hair upon it—I mean upon his face, of course, because I -particularly observed that his teeth and eyelashes were perfect. -</p> - -<p> -“Before I go into the subject on which I have ventured to bring you -here, I am afraid I shall have to ask you one or two questions, Miss -Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -His manner was just what it ought to have been, respectful, and yet -not too distant. -</p> - -<p> -“Any answers I can give you, Mr. Paine, you are welcome to.” -</p> - -<p> -“What was your mother’s maiden name?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mary Ann Batters. She died six years ago next month, when I was -fourteen. My father’s name was Augustus. He was a most superior -person, although unfortunate in business; and though he died five -years before my mother, I’ve heard her say, almost to her last hour, -that she had married above her—which I believe she did.” -</p> - -<p> -“Had your mother any relations?” -</p> - -<p> -“None.” -</p> - -<p> -“Think again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, in a manner of speaking, there was one; but about him least -said soonest mended; although he was her brother—that is, until she -cast him off.” -</p> - -<p> -“What was his name?” -</p> - -<p> -“Benjamin. Although I do not remember ever hearing her mention it, -and, indeed, she was opposed to speaking of him at all; I learned it -was so through finding some letters of his in one of her boxes after -she was dead, and those letters I have unto this day.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is fortunate; because it is as the representative of Mr. -Benjamin Batters that I am here.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed? You don’t mean to say so. This is a surprise.” -</p> - -<p> -And not a pleasant one either. I had heard of Mr. Benjamin Batters, -though not for years and years, but never had I heard anything to his -credit. A regular all-round bad lot he must have been, up to all sorts -of tricks, and worse than tricks. I had reason to believe he had been -in prison more than once, perhaps more than twice. When you have a -relation like that, and have forgotten all about him, and are thankful -to have been able to do it, you do not like to have him come flying, -all of a sudden, in your face. I was not obliged to Mr. Paine for -mentioning his name. If that was all he had to talk about I was sorry -I had come. -</p> - -<p> -“I may take it, then, that Mr. Benjamin Batters is an uncle of yours.” -</p> - -<p> -“In a manner of speaking. Although, considering my mother, his sister, -cast him off, and that I myself never set eyes upon the man, it is -only by a figure of speech that you can call him so.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Benjamin Batters, Miss Blyth, is dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then that alters the case. And I can only hope that he died better -than, I have been told, he lived.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should mention that I myself never met Mr. Batters, nor do I, -really, know anything at all about him. My connection with him is -rather an odd one. A little more than a week ago I received this -package.” He held out a bundle of papers. “Its contents rather -surprised me. Among other things was this letter, which, with your -permission, I will read to you. ‘Great Ka Island, lat. 5° South; -long. 134° East’—that is the heading of the letter; the address at -which it purports to have been written. A curious one, you will -perceive it is. There actually is such an island. It lies some three -hundred miles off the western coast of New Guinea, in the Arafura Sea; -and that, practically, is all I have hitherto been able to learn about -it. I have made inquiries, in the likeliest places, for someone who -has ever been there, but I have not, as yet, been able to light on -such a person. Ships, it appears, trade among the islands thereabouts. -To the captain of one of those the letter may have been handed. He may -have transferred it to the captain of an English vessel engaged in the -Australian trade, who bore it with him to England, and then posted it -to me; for that it was posted in London there is the postmark on the -original package to witness. I am informed, however, that letters from -those out-of-the-way corners of the world do reach England by -circuitous routes, so that, in itself, there is nothing remarkable in -that. -</p> - -<p> -“There is a discrepancy, I am bound to add, which, considering what -the letter purports to be, is a distinct misfortune—it is undated. -But I will read it, and then you yourself will see my point. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“‘<span class="sc">Dear Sir</span>’, it runs, ‘I write to inform you that this morning, at -10.45, there died here, of enteric fever in my presence, Benjamin -Batters. From what I have heard him say, I believe he was in his -sixty-first year, though, latterly, he looked more, and was, at one -time, of Little Endell Street, Westminster.’” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“That was where mother lived when she was a girl,” I interposed. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine read on: -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“‘At his particular request I send you this intimation, together with -the documents which you will find enclosed. Set apart from the world -as here I am I cannot say when an opportunity will arise which will -enable me to despatch you this, nor by what route it will reach you; -but, by the mercy of an All-seeing Providence, I trust that it will -reach you in the end. -</p> - -<p> -“‘Mr. Batters suffered greatly towards the close; but he bore his -sufferings with exemplary patience. He died, as he had lived, at peace -with all men. -</p> - -<p class="sign2">“‘I am, Dear Sir, your obedient servant, -</p> - -<p class="sign2">“‘<span class="sc">Arthur Lennard</span>, Missionary. -</p> - -<br/> - -<p> -“‘P.S.—I may add that I have just buried poor Batters, with Christian -rites, as the shadows lengthened, in our little graveyard which is -within hearing of the sea.’” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -Mr. Paine ceased; he looked at us, and we at him. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s a funny letter,” I remarked. -</p> - -<p> -“Funny!” cried Emily. “Pollie, how can you say so? Why, it’s a -romance.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely,” said Mr. Paine. His voice was a little dry. “It is, -perhaps, because it is so like a romance that it seems—odd.” -</p> - -<p> -I had a fancy that he had meant to use another word instead of “odd;” -I wondered what it was. -</p> - -<p> -“According to that letter my Uncle Benjamin must have changed a good -deal before he died; I never heard of his being at peace with anyone. -Mother used to say that he would fight his left hand against his right -rather than not fight at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“From what you have been telling us a marked alteration must have -taken place in his character. But then, when people are dying, they -are apt to change; to become quite different beings—especially in the -eyes of those who are looking on.” Again there was that dryness in the -speaker’s tone. I felt sure there was a twinkle in his eye. “You will -see, Miss Blyth, that this letter is, to all intents and purposes, a -certificate of your uncle’s death; you will understand, therefore, how -unfortunate it is that it should be undated. We are, thus, in this -position; that, although his death, and even his burial, are -certified, we do not know when either event took place; except that, -as it would appear from the context, he was buried on the same day on -which he died—which, in such a climate, is not unlikely. Our only -means of even remotely guessing at the period of his decease is by -drawing deductions from the date of his will.” -</p> - -<p> -“His will! You don’t mean to say that my uncle Benjamin left a will?” -</p> - -<p> -“He did; and here it is.” -</p> - -<p> -“I expect that that’s all he did leave.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are mistaken; he left a good deal more.” -</p> - -<p> -“To whom did he leave it?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is to give you that very information, Miss Blyth, that I ventured -to bring you here.” -</p> - -<p> -I gasped. This was getting interesting. A cold shiver went down my -back. I had never heard of a will in our family before, there having -been no occasion for such a thing. And to think of Uncle Benjamin -having been the first to start one! As the proverb says, you never can -tell from a man’s beginning what his end will be—and you cannot. -</p> - -<p> -Emily came a little closer, and she took my hand in hers, and she gave -it a squeeze, and she said: -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind, Pollie! bear up!” -</p> - -<p> -I did not know what she meant, but it was very nice of her, though I -had not the slightest intention of doing anything else. But, as my -mother used to say, human sympathy is at all times precious. So I gave -her squeeze for squeeze. And I wished that Tom was there. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch06"> -CHAPTER VI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">SOLE RESIDUARY LEGATEE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Mr. Paine</span> unfolded a large sheet of blue paper. -</p> - -<p> -“This is, it appears, the last will and testament of your late uncle, -Benjamin Batters. It is, as, when you have heard it, I think you will -yourself agree, a somewhat singular document. It came with the letter -from Mr. Lennard which I have just now read you. It is, so far as I -know, authentic; but it is my duty to inform you that the whole affair -is more than a little irregular. This document seems to be a -holograph—that is, I take it that it is in your uncle’s own writing. -Do you recognise his handwriting?” -</p> - -<p> -He gave me the paper. I glanced at it. Emily peeped over my shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I shouldn’t exactly like to go so far as that, but I have some -letters of his, and, so far as I remember, the writing seems about the -same. But you can see them if you like; then you will be able to -compare it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should be very much obliged, Miss Blyth, if you would allow me to -do so. A very important point would be gained if we could prove the -writing. As matters stand at present I am in a position in which I am -able to prove absolutely nothing. Mr. Batters was a stranger to me; he -seems, also, to have been a stranger to you; I can find nobody who -knew him. All we have to go upon is this letter from the other end of -the world, from a person of whom no one knows anything, and which may -or may not be genuine. Should another claimant arise we should be -placed in a very awkward situation.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is there going to be another claimant? And what is there to claim?” -</p> - -<p> -“So far as I know there is going to be none; but in legal matters it -is necessary to be prepared for every emergency. As to what there is -to claim, I will tell you.” -</p> - -<p> -I gave him back the blue paper. He began to read. Emily came closer. I -could feel that she was all of a flutter. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“‘This is the last will and testament of me, Benjamin Batters. -</p> - -<p> -“‘On condition that she does as I hereby direct I give and bequeath to -my niece, Mary Blyth, the daughter of my sister, Mary Ann Batters, who -married Augustus Blyth, and who when I last heard tell of her was -assistant at Cardew & Slaughter’s, a life income of Four Hundred and -Eighty Eight Pounds Nineteen Shillings and Sixpence a year, interest -of my money invested in Consols.’” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -Mr. Paine stopped. -</p> - -<p> -“I may say that bonds producing that amount were enclosed in the -package. Here they are.” -</p> - -<p> -“Four Hundred and Eighty Eight Pounds Nineteen Shillings and Sixpence -a year!” said Emily. “I congratulate you, Pollie!” -</p> - -<p> -She kissed me, right in front of Mr. Paine. For my part, I felt a -queer something steal all over me. My heart began to beat. To think of -Uncle Benjamin, of all people in the world, leaving me such a fortune -as that! And at the very moment when all my expectations in this world -amounted to exactly fifteen shillings! There need be no more waiting -for Tom and me. We would be married before the year was out, or I -would know the reason why. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine went on. -</p> - -<p> -“The will is by no means finished, ladies. The greater, and more -remarkable part of it is to follow. When you have heard what it is I -am not sure that Miss Blyth will consider herself entitled to -congratulations only.” -</p> - -<p> -What could he mean? Had the old rascal changed his mind in the middle -of his own will? -</p> - -<p> -“‘This money,’ Mr. Batters goes on to say, ‘was earned by hard labour, -the sweat of my brow, and sufferings untold, so don’t let her go and -frivol it away as if it was a case of lightly come and lightly go.’” -</p> - -<p> -“If that’s true, Uncle Benjamin must have altered, because I’ve heard -my mother say, over and over again, that he never could be induced to -do an honest day’s work in all his life.” -</p> - -<p> -“People sometimes do alter—as I have observed. ‘On condition, also, -that she does as I tell her,’ continues Mr. Batters, ‘I bequeath to -her the life tenancy of my house, 84, Camford Street, Westminster, -together with the use of the furniture it contains.’” -</p> - -<p> -“What!” interrupted Emily, “a house and furniture too. Why, Pollie, -what else can you want?” -</p> - -<p> -I wondered myself. But I was soon to know. Mr. Paine read on: -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“‘I give and bequeath the above to my niece, Mary Blyth, on these -conditions. She is to live in the house at 84, Camford Street. She is -never to sleep out of it. She is never to be away from it after nine -o’clock at night or before nine o’clock in the morning. She is only to -have one companion, and she must be a woman. They are to have no -visitors, neither she nor her companion. She is to choose a companion, -and stick to her. If the companion dies, or leaves her, she is not to -have another. She is afterwards to live in the house alone. She is not -to let any woman, except her companion, enter the house. She is not to -allow any man, under any circumstances whatever, to come inside the -house, or to cross the doorstep. These are my wishes and orders. If -she disobeys any one of them, then may my curse light on her, and I -will see that it does, and the house, and the income, and everything, -is to be taken from her, and given to the Society for Befriending -Sailors. -</p> - -<p class="sign2"> -“‘Signed, <span class="sc">Benjamin Batters</span>.’” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“That, Miss Blyth, is what purports to be your uncle’s will.” -</p> - -<p> -“But,” I gasped, “what is that at the end about stopping in the house, -and letting no one come in, and all the rest of it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Those are the conditions on which you are to inherit. Before, -however, touching on them I should like to point out in what respect -the will seems to me to be most irregular. First of all, it is -undated. There could hardly be a more serious flaw. There is nothing -to show if it was made last week or fifty years ago. In the interim -all sorts of things may have happened to render it null and void. Then -a signature to a will requires two witnesses; this has none. Then the -wording is extremely loose. For instance, should you fail to fulfil -certain conditions, the property is to pass to the Society for -Befriending Sailors. So far as I can learn there is no such society. -Societies for befriending sailors there are in abundance, but there is -not one of that exact name, and it would become a moot point which one -of them the testator had in his mind’s eye.” -</p> - -<p> -“All of which amounts to—what?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it amounts to this. You can receive the money referred to, and -live in the house in question, at your own risk, until someone comes -forward with a better title. It will not need a very good title, I am -sorry to say, Miss Blyth, to be better than that which is conferred on -you by this document. I am not saying this by way of advice, but -simply as a statement of the case as it appears to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“What I want to know is, what’s the meaning of those conditions? I -suppose, by the way, there is such a house.” -</p> - -<p> -“There certainly is. Camford Street is an old, and not particularly -reputable street, one end of which leads into the Westminster Bridge -Road. No. 84 is in a terrace. From the exterior—which is as much as I -have seen of it—it looks as if it had not been occupied for a -considerable period of time. Indeed, according to the neighbours, no -one has lived in it for, some say ten, others fifteen, and others -twenty years.” -</p> - -<p> -“That sounds nice,” cut in Emily. “If no one has lived in it for all -that time I shouldn’t be surprised if it wanted a little cleaning.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not at all improbable, from what it looks like outside. The shutters -are up at the window—on that point, I may mention, a man who has a -small chandler’s shop on the opposite side of the road, tells rather a -singular story. He informed me that, to the best of his knowledge and -belief, the last occupant of the house was a man named Robertson. He -was an old man. Mr. Kennard, my informant, says that what became of -him he does not know. He did not move; there was no attempt to let the -place; he simply ceased to be seen about. Nor has a living soul been -seen in the house for years. But, he says, some months ago, he is not -sure how many, when he got up one morning to open his shop, on looking -across the road he saw that all the windows inside were screened by -shutters. He declares that not only were there no shutters there the -night before, but dirty old blinds which were dropping to pieces, but -that he never had seen shutters there before, and, indeed, he doubted -if there were such things at any other house in the terrace. If his -tale is true, it seems an odd one.” -</p> - -<p> -“It sounds,” said Emily, “as if the house were haunted.” -</p> - -<p> -“Without going so far as that, it does seem as if the shutters could -hardly have got there of their own accord, and that someone must have -been inside on that particular night, at any rate. No one, however, -was seen, either then or since. There the shutters are, as one can -perceive in spite of the accumulated grime which almost hides the -windows. No one seems to know who the house belongs to, or ever did -belong to; and I would observe that, since no title deeds were in the -package, or any hint that such things were in existence, we have only -Mr. Batters’ bare word that the property was his. I should hasten to -add that there is a small parcel addressed to Miss Blyth, whose -contents may throw light, not only on that matter, but on others -also.” -</p> - -<p> -He handed me a parcel done up in brown paper. It was addressed, in -very bad writing, “To be given to my niece, Mary Blyth, and to be -opened by her only.” I cut the string, and removed the wrapper. In it -was a common white wood box. Emily leaned over my shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -“Whatever is inside?” she asked. -</p> - -<p> -The first thing I saw when I lifted the lid, gave me a start, and I -own it—there, staring me in the face, was the own brother of the -little painted thing which was in the packet which the foreigner had -slipped between my fingers. -</p> - -<p> -“Why,” I cried, “if there isn’t another!” -</p> - -<p> -“Another!” Mr. Paine gave a jump. “That’s very odd.” He was fishing -about in his waistcoat pocket. “I thought you gave me the one you -had.” -</p> - -<p> -“So I did. You put it in the pocket in which you’re feeling.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought I did. But—have you noticed me taking it out?” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ve not taken it out, of that I’m sure.” -</p> - -<p> -“But—I must have done. It’s gone.” -</p> - -<p> -His face was a study. I hardly knew whether to laugh or not. -</p> - -<p> -“It strikes me,” he remarked, “that someone is playing a trick on us; -and, as I’m not over fond of tricks which I don’t understand, I’ll put -an end to this little joke once and for all.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a fire burning in the grate. Laying the box down on a chair, -taking the little painted thing between his finger and thumb, off he -marched towards the fireplace. As he was going, all of a sudden he -gave a little jump, as I suppose, loosened his hold, and down the -thing dropped on to the floor. He stood staring at his hand, and at -the place where it had fallen, as if startled. -</p> - -<p> -“Where’s it gone?” he asked. -</p> - -<p> -“It must have rolled under the table.” This was Emily. -</p> - -<p> -But it had not. We searched in every nook and cranny. It had vanished, -as completely as if it had never been. -</p> - -<p> -“This is a pretty state of affairs. If it goes on much longer we shall -begin to take to seeing things. If the rest of the contents of the box -are of the same pattern, you might have kept it, Mr. Paine, for all I -care.” -</p> - -<p> -But they were not. The next thing I took out was a key. It was a -little one, and the queerest shape I ever saw. It was fastened to a -steel chain; at one end of the chain was a padlock. Attached to the -handle of the key was a kind of flying label; on it this was written: -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“To <span class="sc">Mary Blyth</span>. This is the key of 84, Camford Street. The lock is -high up on the left-hand side of the door. There is no keyhole. You -will see a green spot. Press the key against the spot and it will -enter the lock. Push home as far as it will go, then jerk upwards, and -the door will open. Don’t try to enter when anyone is looking. -Directly you get it, tear off this label and burn it. Then pass the -chain about your waist, underneath your dress, and snap the padlock. -If you lose the key, or let it go for a moment from your possession, -may the gods burn up the marrow in your bones. And they will.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“That’s cheerful reading,” I observed, when I had read the label to an -end. I passed it to Mr. Paine. -</p> - -<p> -“It is curious,” he admitted. “In which respect it’s of a piece with -all the rest.” -</p> - -<p> -When Emily read it her eyes and mouth opened as wide as they very well -could do. -</p> - -<p> -“I never!” she cried. “Isn’t it mysterious?” -</p> - -<p> -“What shall I do?” I asked, when the chain and key had been returned -to me. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine considered. -</p> - -<p> -“You had better do as instructed—burn the label; that is, after we -have taken a copy. There is nothing said against your doing that; and, -if you have a copy, it will prevent your memory playing you false. As -for the key itself—will it do you any harm to fasten it to your waist -in the manner directed?” -</p> - -<p> -“Except that it’s a bit too mysterious for my taste. Some folks like -mysteries; I don’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear,” cut in Emily, “they’re the salt of life!” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I don’t like salt. Perhaps it’s because I’m a plain person that -I like plain things. Here’s more mystery.” -</p> - -<p> -The only thing left in the box was an envelope. When I took it out I -found that on it this was written: -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“This envelope is for <span class="sc">Mary Blyth</span>, and is not to be opened by her -till she is inside 84, Camford Street.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -I showed it to Mr. Paine, who was copying the label. -</p> - -<p> -“What shall I do with that?” -</p> - -<p> -“As you are told. Open it when you are in the house, and afterwards, -if it is not expressly forbidden, you can, if you choose, communicate -the contents to me.” -</p> - -<p> -While he copied the label I went with Emily into an inner room, which -turned out to be his bedroom; put the chain about my waist inside my -bodice, and closed the padlock; and it was only when I had done so -that I discovered that it had no key, so that how I was to open it, -and get the chain off again, goodness only knew. Emily kept talking -all the while. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, isn’t it all just lovely? In spite of what you say, your -Uncle Benjamin must have been a really remarkable man. It’s like a -romance.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wish my Uncle Benjamin hadn’t been such a remarkable man, then he -might have left me the money and the house without the romance. Bother -your romance, is what I say.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’re a dear,” she affirmed, and she held up her hands—and very -pretty hands they were. “But you have no soul.” -</p> - -<p> -“If that’s what you call soul,” I answered, “I’m glad I haven’t.” -</p> - -<p> -When we got back to Mr. Paine, I began at him again. -</p> - -<p> -“Now let me clearly understand about those conditions. Do you mean to -say that I’m to stop in the house all alone?” -</p> - -<p> -“You may have a companion—who must be a woman.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll be your companion! Do let me be your companion, Pollie!” -</p> - -<p> -I looked at Emily, who stood in front of me with flushed cheeks and -eager eyes; as pretty a picture as you could wish to see. -</p> - -<p> -“Done!” We shook hands upon it. “I only hope you won’t have too much -romance before you’ve been my companion long.” -</p> - -<p> -“No fear of that! The more there is the more I’ll like it.” -</p> - -<p> -I was not so certain. She spoke as if she were sure of herself. But, -for my part, I felt that it remained to be seen. I went on: -</p> - -<p> -“What was that about being in before nine?” -</p> - -<p> -“You are never to sleep out of the house. You are always to be in it -before nine at night, and never to leave it before nine in the -morning.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s a nice condition, upon my word!” I turned to Emily. “What do -you think of that? It’s worse than Cardew & Slaughter’s.” -</p> - -<p> -“It does seem rather provoking. But”—there was a twinkle in her -eye—“there may be ways of getting out of that?” -</p> - -<p> -“What was that about no man being allowed in the house?” -</p> - -<p> -“No man, under any circumstances, is to be allowed to cross the -doorstep; nor, indeed, is anyone, except the lady you have chosen to -be your companion.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what about my Tom?” -</p> - -<p> -“Your—Tom? Who is he?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Tom Cooper is the gentleman to whom I am engaged to be married.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am afraid that, by the terms of the will, no exception is made even -in his favour.” -</p> - -<p> -I did not answer. But I told myself that we would see about that. If, -as Emily hinted, there were ways of getting the better of one -condition, it should not be my fault if means were not found to get -the better of the other too. -</p> - -<p> -Almost immediately afterwards we started for the house; all three of -us again in the four-wheeler which had been waiting for us the whole -of the time. I wondered who was going to pay the fare. It would make a -hole in my fifteen shillings. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch07"> -CHAPTER VII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">ENTERING INTO POSSESSION.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was Mr. Paine who settled with the cabman. It had not struck me -that we had been passing through an over-savoury neighbourhood; we -drew up in front of a perfectly disreputable-looking house. Not that -it was particularly small; there were three storeys; but it looked so -dirty. And if there is one thing I cannot stand it is dirt. I could -easily believe that no one had lived in it for twenty years; it was -pretty plain that the windows had not been cleaned for quite as long -as that. -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” I declared as I got out of the cab, “of all the dirty-looking -places I ever saw! If no one is to be allowed to set foot inside -except Emily and me, who do you suppose is going to clean those -windows?” -</p> - -<p> -“That, I am afraid, is a matter which you must arrange with Miss -Purvis; the will makes no exception in favour of window cleaners.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then all I can say is that that’s a nice thing.” I turned to Emily. -“This is going to turn out a pretty sort of romance—charwomen is what -we shall have to commence by being.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not afraid of a little work,” she laughed. -</p> - -<p> -I looked at the door. -</p> - -<p> -“That writing on the label said that we were not to go into the house -when anyone was looking. How are we going to manage that? Are you and -the cabman to turn your backs?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think that that is necessary; this shall be an exception. -After you’ve opened the door we’ll hand the luggage to you when you’re -inside.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine and the cabman were not by any means the only two persons -who were looking. Our stoppage in front of No. 84 had created quite a -wave of interest. People were watching us at doors and through -windows, and a small crowd of children had gathered round us in a -circle on the pavement. As it was out of the question for us to wait -till all eyes were off us, I straightaway disobeyed at least one of -the directions which were on the label. -</p> - -<p> -What looked like an ordinary opening for a latchkey was in its usual -place on the right hand side of the door, but when I slipped my key -into that it turned round and round without producing any visible -effect whatever. So I examined the other side. There, sure enough, so -high up as to be almost beyond my reach, was what looked like a small -dab of green paint. When I pushed the key against it it gave way. The -key went into the apparently solid wood-work right up to the handle. I -gave it an upward jerk; the door was open. However neglected the -windows were, that lock seemed to be in good condition. -</p> - -<p> -The door had opened about an inch. We all stared at it as if something -wonderful had happened. I confess that I was a little startled, -because I had used so little force that it was a wonder to me how it -had come open. The children, giving a sort of cheer, came crowding -close round. Mr. Paine had to order them back. I pressed my hand -against the door. As it swung upon its hinges a bell sounded somewhere -in the house. It seemed to come from upstairs, with a shrill, metallic -clanging. -</p> - -<p> -“There might be someone in already, who wanted to have warning of -anyone’s approach.” -</p> - -<p> -This was Emily. She was staring into the passage as if she expected to -see something strange. -</p> - -<p> -“Come,” said Mr. Paine. “Let me help you in with the luggage; then I -must leave you. People are taking a greater interest in the -proceedings than is altogether desirable. You may find them a nuisance -if you don’t look out.” -</p> - -<p> -The crowd was being reinforced by children of an older growth. -Loiterers were stopping to stare. People were coming out of their -houses. As Mr. Paine said, their interest was becoming too -demonstrative. He helped the cabman to get our boxes into the passage. -Then he went. We shut the door after him in the faces of the crowd. -Emily and I were left alone. -</p> - -<p> -It was an odd sensation which I felt during those first few moments in -which I realised that she and I were alone in my Uncle Benjamin’s old -house. I was conscious of a foolish desire to call the crowd to keep -us company. Emily Purvis was hardly the kind of girl I should myself -have chosen to be my sole companion in a tight place; and I had a kind -of feeling that before very long it might turn out that I was in a -tight place now. -</p> - -<p> -It had all come on me so suddenly. More things had happened in a few -hours than in all my life before. Yesterday I had thought myself a -fixture at Cardew & Slaughter’s; with marriage with Tom in the far-off -distance; when the skies had fallen; or he had become a shopwalker and -I a buyer; or we had saved up enough to start a small shop of our own. -Now, Cardew & Slaughter’s had gone from me for ever. So far as money -went I was free to marry Tom next week. But there was this horrid -house—already I was calling it horrid—and my uncle’s absurd -conditions. If I was to observe them during the rest of my life I -might as well write myself a nun at once, and worse. Better Cardew & -Slaughter’s—or anything. -</p> - -<p> -We could hear the sound of traffic and voices in the street. Within -the house all was still. There was no window over the door. In the -passage it was so dark that it was as much as we could do to make out -where we were. Emily put her hand upon my arm, as if she wished to -make sure that I was close. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s no good our stopping here,” I said. “We’d better light a candle -and look about us. If the whole house is as light as this it must be a -cheerful place to live in.” -</p> - -<p> -Acting on Mr. Paine’s suggestion, as we had come along in the cab we -had bought some candles and matches, and enough provisions to carry us -on to to-morrow. Routing out a box, I struck a match. I gave Emily a -candle and took one myself. -</p> - -<p> -“Now to explore!” -</p> - -<p> -We were brought to a standstill at the very start. In front of us was -a door which led into a room opening out of the passage, or ought to -have done. When I tried the handle I found that it was locked. I shook -it, I even thumped at the panels, I searched for a key; it was no -good. Against us the door was sealed. -</p> - -<p> -“This is a comfortable beginning! If all the doors are locked it will -be really nice. Perhaps Uncle Benjamin intended that I should merely -have the run of the passage and the stairs.” -</p> - -<p> -Such, however, fortunately or otherwise, was not the case. The room -behind the one which was closed was the kitchen; that was open, and a -delightful state it was in. Not only was it inches thick in dust, but -it was in a state of astonishing confusion. Pots and pans were -everywhere. The last person who had used that kitchen to cook a meal -in had apparently simply let the utensils drop from her hand when she -had done with them, and left them lying where they fell. There was a -saucepan here, a frying-pan there, a baking tin in the corner. Another -thing we soon became conscious of—that the place was alive with -cockroaches. -</p> - -<p> -“What is it we are stepping on?” asked Emily. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, it’s beetles.” -</p> - -<p> -She picked up her skirts, she gave a scream, and back she scurried -into the passage. I am not fond of the creatures; I never met anyone -who was; but I am not afraid of them, and I was not going to let them -drive me out of my own kitchen. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s one thing wanted, and that’s light and fresh air. Only let me -get those shutters down, and the window open, and then we’ll see. I -should say from the smell of the place that there has never been any -proper ventilation since the house was built.” -</p> - -<p> -But it was easier said than done. Those shutters would not come down. -How to begin to get them down was more than I could understand. To my -astonishment, when I rapped them with my knuckles, they rang. -</p> - -<p> -“I do believe,” I said, “they’re made of iron—they’re a metal of some -kind. They seem to have been built into the solid wall, as if they had -never intended them to be moved. No wonder the place smells like a -vault, and beetles, and other nice things, flourish, if they’re -fixtures.” -</p> - -<p> -A scullery led out of the kitchen. It was in the same state. One -crunched blackbeetles at every step. There was a shutter before the -window, which had evidently never been meant to be taken down. Where, -apparently, there had been a door leading into a backyard or -something, was a sheet of solid metal. No one was going to get out -that way in a hurry; or in either. -</p> - -<p> -“But what can be the meaning of it all?” I cried. “There must be an -object in all this display of plate armour, or whatever it is. The -place is fortified as if it were meant to stand a siege. I shall begin -to wonder if there isn’t a treasure hidden somewhere in the house; a -great store of gold and precious stones, and that Uncle Benjamin made -up his mind that at any rate thieves should not break through and -steal.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Pollie, do you think there is? Perhaps it’s in the next -room—perhaps that’s why the door is locked.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps so; and perhaps the key’s upstairs, waiting for us to come -and find it. Anyhow we’ll go and see.” -</p> - -<p> -When I rejoined Emily it struck me that she was not looking quite so -happy as she might have done; as if the romance was not taking -altogether the shape she either expected or desired. I led the way -upstairs. There was a carpet on them; but by the illumination afforded -by a guttering candle, it only needed a glance to see that, if you -once took it up, you would probably never be able to put it down -again—it would fall to pieces. We had hardly gone up half-a-dozen -steps when there came a clitter-clatter from above. Emily, who was -behind, caught me by the skirt. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie! Stop! Whatever’s that? There’s someone there!” -</p> - -<p> -“Rats, most likely. In a house like this there are sure to be all -sorts of agreeable things. Where there aren’t blackbeetles there are -rats; and where there’s either there’s probably both.” -</p> - -<p> -Rats it was. Before we had mounted another tread two or three came -flying down, brushing against our skirts as they passed. You should -have heard Emily scream. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be silly,” I said. “You talk about liking romance, and you make -all that fuss because of a rat or two.” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t exactly that I’m afraid of them, but—they startled me so. I -daresay I shan’t mind them when I’ve got used to them, only—I’ve got -to get used to them first.” -</p> - -<p> -She was likely to have every opportunity. Presently two or three more -came down. They seemed to be in a hurry. One, which was not looking -where it was going, struck itself against my foot, and squeaked. Emily -squealed too. When we reached the landing we could hear them -scampering in all directions. -</p> - -<p> -On that floor there were three rooms and a cupboard. The cupboard was -empty. So was one of the rooms; that is, so far as furniture was -concerned. But it was plain where, at any rate, some of the rats were. -When I went into the room I stepped on a loose board. As it gave way -beneath my tread I never heard such an extraordinary noise as came -from under it. Apparently a legion of rats had their habitations -underneath that flooring. I half expected them to rush out and make -for us. I was out of the room quicker than I went in, and took care to -close the door behind me. Emily had turned as white as a sheet. -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t stop in this place—I can’t.” -</p> - -<p> -I was scornful. -</p> - -<p> -“I thought you couldn’t. You’ll remember I told you that you wouldn’t -be my companion long. I knew that was the sort you were.” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t fair of you to talk like that—it isn’t. I don’t mind -ordinary things—and I’ll not leave you, you know I won’t. But all -those rats! Did you hear them?” -</p> - -<p> -“I heard them, and they’ll hear me before long. There’s going to be a -wholesale slaughter of rats, and blackbeetles. There’ll soon be a -clearance when they’ve sampled some of the stuff I know of. I’m not -going to be driven out of my own house by trifles.” -</p> - -<p> -One of the other rooms was a bedroom, a sort of skeleton of one. There -was some carpet on the floor, or what had been carpet. There was an -iron bedstead, on which were the remains of what might have been a -mattress. But there were no signs of sheets or blankets; I wondered if -the rats had eaten them. -</p> - -<p> -After what we had seen of the rest of the house, the third room, which -was in front, was a surprise. It was a parlour; not the remnants of -one, but an actual parlour. There was what seemed to be a pretty good -carpet on the floor. There was a round table, with a tapestry cover. -There were two easy chairs, four small ones, a couch. On the sideboard -were plates and dishes, cups and saucers. On the stove, which was a -small kitchener, was a kettle, two saucepans, and a frying pan, all of -them in decent order. Although the usual shutters screened the window, -the place was clean, comparatively speaking. And when I went to a -cupboard which was in one corner, I found that in it there were coals -and wood. -</p> - -<p> -“It is not twenty years since this room was occupied, there’s that -much certain; nor, from the look of it, should I say it was twenty -hours. I should say there had been a fire in that stove this very day, -and there’s water in the kettle now.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s this?” -</p> - -<p> -Emily was holding out something which she had picked up from the -floor. It was a woman’s bracelet, a gold bangle; though I had never -seen one like it before. It was made of plain, flat gold, very narrow, -twisted round and round; there was so much of it that, when it was in -its place, it must have wound round the wearer’s arm, like a sort of -serpent, from the wrist to the elbow. At one end of it was something, -the very sight of which gave me quite a qualm. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch08"> -CHAPTER VIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE BACK-DOOR KEY.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Look</span>!” I said. “Look!” -</p> - -<p> -“Look at what? What’s the matter with you, Pollie? Why are you glaring -at me like that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you see what’s at the end of it?” -</p> - -<p> -She turned the bangle over. -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t pretty, but—it’s some sort of ornament, I suppose.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s that thing which was in the scrap of paper, or its double.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie! Are you sure?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certain. I’ll back myself to know that wherever it turns up.” -</p> - -<p> -Taking the bracelet from her I eyed it closely. There was no mistaking -the likeness; to one end was attached the very double of that painted -little horror. Emily criticised it as she leant over my shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -“It looks as if it were meant for a man who mostly runs to head. And -what a head it is! Look at his beard, it reaches to what may be meant -for feet. And his hair, it stands out from his scalp like bristles.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t forget his eyes, how they shine. They must be painted with -luminous paint, or whatever they call the stuff, which lights up in -the dark. The other night they gleamed so I thought the creature was -alive. And his teeth—talk about dentist’s advertisements! I believe -it’s meant for one of those heathen gods who are supposed to live on -babies, and that kind of thing. He looks the character to the life. -But fancy your picking it up from the floor! That’s not lain there -twenty years. There’s not a speck of rust upon it. It’s as bright as -if it had just come off somebody’s arm.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, do you think there’s anybody in the house besides we two?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, I haven’t the faintest notion; you can use your senses as -well as I can, and are quite as capable of putting two and two -together. One fact’s obvious, it’s not long since somebody was in this -room. But we’ve the rest of the house to see; I can tell you more when -we’ve seen it. Come, let’s go upstairs.” -</p> - -<p> -Putting the bracelet on the table, I left the room. Emily seemed -reluctant to follow. I fancy that if she had had her way she would -have postponed the remainder of our voyage to later on—a good deal -later on. And, on the whole, I hardly wondered, because, directly we -began to go upstairs, such a noise came from above, and, indeed, from -everywhere, that you would have thought the whole place was alive; and -so it was—with rats. I had heard of the extraordinary noises the -creatures could make, but I had never realised their capacity till -then. Emily stood trembling on the bottom step. -</p> - -<p> -“I daren’t go up, I daren’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, then; stop where you are. I dare, and will.” -</p> - -<p> -Off I started; and, as I expected, directly I moved, she rushed after -me. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Pollie, don’t leave me, don’t. I’d sooner do anything than have -you leave me.” -</p> - -<p> -On that top floor there were again three rooms. And again, one of them -was empty. It was a sort of attic, at the back. So far as I could make -out it had no window at all; it was papered over if it had one. But -talk of rats! It was a larger room than the one below, and seemed to -be still more crowded. We could not only hear them, we could see them. -There they were, blinking at the candlelight out of the floor and -walls, and even ceiling. It was a cheerful prospect. I had heard of -rats, when they had got rid of everything else, eating human beings. -We two could do nothing against these multitudes; I felt sure that the -mere fright of being attacked would be enough to kill Emily. I said -nothing to her, but I thought of it all the same. -</p> - -<p> -The door next to the attic was fastened. Whether it was locked or not -I could not make out. It felt as solid as if it never had been opened, -and had been never meant to open. When I struck it with my knuckles, -it returned no sound. That it was something else besides a mere wooden -door was obvious. -</p> - -<p> -“Another treasure room!” I laughed. -</p> - -<p> -But Emily did not seem pleased. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t like these locked-up rooms. What is there on the other side?” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought you were so fond of mystery.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not mystery like this.” She lowered her voice. “For all we know there -may be people inside, who, while we can’t get at them, can get at us -whenever they choose.” -</p> - -<p> -I laughed again; though conscious there was sense in what she said. -</p> - -<p> -“Let’s go and look at the other room and see if that’s locked up too.” -</p> - -<p> -But the door of that yielded at a touch. It, also, had had occupants -less than twenty years ago—a good deal less. It was furnished as a -bedroom. There was a chest of drawers, a washstand, toilet-table, -chairs, and a bed. On the latter the bedding was in disorder; sheets, -blankets, pillows tumbled anyhow, as if somebody, getting out of it in -a hurry, had had no time to put it straight. There was a lamp upon the -toilet table, the blackened chimney of which showed it had been -smoking; even yet the smell of a smoky lamp was in the air. The -drawers were all wide open. One, which had been pulled right out, was -turned upside down upon the floor, as if the quickest way had been -chosen to clear it of its contents. -</p> - -<p> -“It looks,” said Emily, standing in the doorway, looking round her -with doubtful eyes, and speaking as if she were saying something which -ought to have been left unspoken, “as if someone had just got out of -bed.” -</p> - -<p> -Throwing the bedclothes back, I laid my hand against the sheets. It -might have been my imagination, but they seemed warm, as if, since -someone had been between them, they had not had time to cool. Not -wishing to make her more nervous than she was already, I hardly knew -how to answer her; more especially as I myself did not feel -particularly comfortable. If, as appearances suggested, somebody had -been inside that bed, say, within the last half-hour, who could it -have been? and what had become of him or her, or them? Crossing to the -dressing-table, I touched the lamp-glass. It was hot, positively hot. -I could have sworn that it had been burning within the last ten -minutes or quarter of an hour. That was proof positive that someone -had been there—lamps do not burn unless somebody lights them, and -they do not go out unless somebody puts them out. Who could it have -been? The discovery—and the mystery!—so took me aback that it was -all I could do to keep myself from screaming. But, as Emily was nearly -off her head already, and I did not want to send her off it quite, I -just managed to keep my feelings under. All the same, I did not like -the aspect of things at all. -</p> - -<p> -To stop her from noticing too much, I tried my best to keep on -talking. -</p> - -<p> -“This is our bedroom, I suppose. How do you like the look of it? Not -over cheerful, is it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Cheerful?” I could see she shuddered. “Does any light ever get into -the room?” -</p> - -<p> -Where the window ought to have been were the usual massive and -immovable shutters. -</p> - -<p> -“The person who put up those shutters wasn’t fond of either light or -air. But you wait, I’ll have them down, I like plenty of both. You -heard Mr. Paine’s story about the shutters having made their -appearance in a night? If they did, then there was witchcraft used, or -I’m a Dutchman. It took weeks, if not months, to get them there. If -the walls have to be pulled to pieces I’ll have them moved. Give me a -week or two and you won’t know the place. I’ll turn it inside out and -upside down. Because Uncle Benjamin had his ideas of what a house -ought to be like, dark as pitch, and alive with rats, not to name -blackbeetles, it doesn’t follow that his ideas are mine, so I’ll show -him.” -</p> - -<p> -“We can’t do all that, you and I alone together.” -</p> - -<p> -“Catch me trying! Before we’re many hours older I’ll have an army of -workmen turned into the house.” -</p> - -<p> -“What about the conditions? No one is to be allowed to enter except us -two, especially no man.” -</p> - -<p> -“Bother the conditions! Do you think I mind them? Uncle Benjamin must -have been stark staring mad to think that I would. If I’m only to live -in such a place as this on such terms as those, then I’ll live out of -it—that’s all. By the way, where’s the envelope which was in that -box? I took it out of my dress pocket. ‘This envelope is for Mary -Blyth, and is not to be opened by her till she is inside 84, Camford -Street.’ Well, now Mary Blyth is inside 84, Camford Street—a nice, -sweet, clean, airy place she’s found it! So I suppose that now she may -open the envelope. Let’s hope that the contents are calculated to -liven you up, because I feel as if I wanted something a little -chirrupy.” -</p> - -<p> -Inside was a sheet of blue writing paper. It was not over clean, being -creased, and thumb-marked, and blotted too. On it was a letter, -written by somebody who was not much used to a pen. I recognised Uncle -Benjamin’s hand in a moment, especially because I remembered how, in -his letters to mother, which I had in my box, the lines kept getting -more and more slanting, until the last was screwed away in a corner, -because there was no room for it anywhere else. And here was just the -same thing. He began straight enough, right across the page, but, long -before he had reached the bottom, he was in the same old mess. -</p> - -<p> -“I need no ghost to tell me that this is from my venerated uncle. I -remember his beautiful neatness. Look at that, my dear, did you ever -see anything like those lines for straightness?” -</p> - -<p> -I held up the page for Emily to see. She actually smiled, for the -first time since she had been inside that house. -</p> - -<p> -“Now let’s see what the dear old creature says. Do hope it’s something -comforting. What’s this?” I began to read out aloud. -</p> - -<p> -“‘<span class="sc">Dear Niece</span>,—Now that you are once inside the house, you will -never sleep out of it again.’ Shan’t I? We shall see. Nice prospect, -upon my word. ‘You may think you will, but you won’t. The spell is on -you. It will grow in power. Each night it will draw you back. At your -peril do not struggle against it. Or may God have mercy on your soul.’ -This is—this is better and better. My dear, Uncle Benjamin must have -been very mad. ‘You are surrounded by enemies.’ Am I? I wasn’t till I -had your fortune. I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t have been -better off without it. ‘Out of the house you are at their mercy. They -watch you night and day. When you are out, they are ever at your -heels. Sooner or later they will have you. Then again may God have -mercy on your soul. But in the house you are safe. I have seen to -that. Do not be afraid of anything you may see or hear. <i>There is That -within these walls which holds you in the hollow of Its hand</i>.’ That -last line, my dear, is in italics. It strikes me that not only was -Uncle Bennie mad, but that writing novels ought to have been his -trade. As you are so fond of saying, this is something like a romance; -and I wish it wasn’t. Emily, what’s the matter with you now?” -</p> - -<p> -She had come to me with a sudden rush, gripping my arm with both her -hands—I doubt if she knew how hard. I could see that she was all of a -tremble. -</p> - -<p> -“I—I thought I heard someone downstairs.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a doubt of it—rats.” -</p> - -<p> -“It—it wasn’t rats. It sounded like footsteps in the room beneath.” -</p> - -<p> -“When I’ve finished uncle’s letter we’ll investigate; but I think -you’ll find it was rats—they’ve got footsteps. Let me see, where was -I? Oh, yes—‘<i>Its hand</i>. Go out as little as you can.’ To be sure. I’m -not fond of going out—especially with such a house as this to stop -in. ‘Be always back before nine. It is then the hour of your greatest -peril begins. Should you ever be out after nine—which the gods -forbid—let no one see you enter. They will be watching for you in the -front. Go to Rosemary Street at the back. Between thirteen and -fourteen there is a passage. At the end there is a wall. Climb it. -There are two stanchions one above the other on the right. They will -help you. Drop into the yard. Go to the backdoor. You will see a spot -of light shining at you. Put the key in there. Turn three times to the -left. The door will open. Enter and close quickly lest your enemies be -upon you. If they enter with you may God have mercy on your soul. From -your affectionate uncle, <span class="sc">Benjamin Batters</span>. P.S.—You will find the -back door key on the parlour table.’ Shall I? That’s story number one -at any rate. I haven’t found any back door key on the parlour table, -and I never saw one there. Did you?” -</p> - -<p> -“There—wasn’t one—I noticed—there was nothing on the table—when -you put that bangle down.” -</p> - -<p> -I wished Emily would not speak in that stammering way, as if there was -a full stop between each word or two. But I knew it was not the -slightest use my saying so just then; that was how she felt. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course. I did leave that bangle on the table, didn’t I? That’s one -thing which we’ve found in uncle’s dear old house which seems worth -having; and one thing’s something. Let’s go and have another look at -it.” -</p> - -<p> -Down the stairs again we went; Emily sticking close to my side as if -she would rather have suffered anything than have let me get a yard -away from her. One of the pleasantest features of my new possession -seemed to be that every time we moved from one room to another about a -hundred thousand rats got flurried; it sounded like a hundred thousand -by the din they made. And Emily did not like them scurrying up and -down the stairs when she was on them; nor, so far as that went, did I -either. -</p> - -<p> -When we reached the parlour, I made a dart at the table. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, where’s that bangle? I put it down just there, I remember most -distinctly. Emily, it’s gone! Whatever’s this? I do believe—it’s that -back-door key!” -</p> - -<p> -It was, at any rate, a key; and bore a family likeness to the one -which was attached to the chain which was about my waist. I stared, -scarcely able to credit the evidence of my own senses. Between our -going from that room and our returning to it a miracle had happened; a -transformation had taken place; a bangle—and such a bangle! had -become a key. Apparently the back-door key of Uncle Benjamin’s “P.S.!” -</p> - - -<h2 id="b2"> -BOOK II.<br/> -<span class="book_sub">84, CAMFORD STREET.</span> -</h2> - -<p class="center"> -(THE FACTS OF THE CASE ACCORDING TO EMILY PURVIS.) -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch09"> -CHAPTER IX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MAX LANDER.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Talk</span> about romance! I never could have believed that after wishing -for a thing your whole life long you could have had enough of it in so -short a space of time. In the morning Pollie Blyth heard, for the very -first time, that a fortune and a house had been left to her, and, -before the night of that same day was over, she wished that it had -not. And here had I been looking, ever since I was a teeny-weeny -little thing, for a touch of romance to give existence a real live -flavour, and then, when I got it, the best I could do was to wonder -how I had been so silly as ever to have wanted it. -</p> - -<p> -Poor Pollie! That first night in Camford Street she would go out. She -said she must go and see her Tom. That he would be waiting, wondering -what had become of her, and that nothing should keep her from him. -Nothing did. I could not. And when I suggested that it might be as -well for her to be a little careful what she did that very first -night, she actually proposed that I should stop in that awful house by -myself, and wait in it alone till she returned. -</p> - -<p> -I would not have done such a thing for worlds, and she knew it. As a -matter of fact I could not have said if I was more unwilling to leave -the place, or to stay in it, even with her. The extraordinary -conditions of her dreadful old uncle’s horrible will weighed on me -much more than they seemed to do on her. I felt sure that something -frightful would happen if they were not strictly observed. Nothing -could be clearer than his repeated injunction not to be out after -nine, and her appointment with Mr. Cooper was for half-past eight. -</p> - -<p> -Cardew and Slaughter are supposed to close at eight, but she knew as -well as I did what that really meant. It was a wonder if one of the -assistants got out before nine. Mr. Cooper was in the heavy, and the -gentlemen in that department were always last. If he appeared till -after nine I should be surprised, and, if we were at the other end of -London at that hour, with the uncle’s will staring us in the face, -what would become of us? Being locked out of Cardew and Slaughter’s -was nothing to what that would mean. -</p> - -<p> -But Pollie would not listen to a word. She is as obstinate as -obstinate when she likes, though she may not think it. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear,” she said, “I must see Tom. Mustn’t I see Tom? If you were -in my place, and he was your Tom, wouldn’t you feel that you must see -him?” -</p> - -<p> -There was something in that I acknowledged. It was frightful that you -should be cut off from intercourse with the man you loved simply -because your hours would not fit his. But then there was so much to be -said upon the other side. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sure he’ll be punctual to-night, he’ll be so anxious. And you -know sometimes he can get off a little earlier if he makes an effort. -You see if he isn’t there at half-past eight. I’ll just speak to him, -then start off back at once. He’ll come with us, we shall be back here -before nine, and then he’ll leave us at the door.” -</p> - -<p> -That was how it was to turn out, according to her. I had my doubts. -When you are with the man to whom you are engaged to be married half -an hour is nothing. It’s gone before you know it’s begun. -</p> - -<p> -It was eight o’clock when we left the house. I thought we should never -have left it at all. We could not open the door. It had no regular -handle; no regular anything. While we were trying to get it open the -house was filled with the most extraordinary noises. If it was all -rats, as Pollie declared, then rats have got more ways of expressing -their feelings than I had imagined. It seemed to me as if the place -was haunted by mysterious voices which were warning us to be careful -of what we did. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course if we’re prisoners it’s just as well that we should know it -now as later on. How do you open this door?” -</p> - -<p> -Just as she spoke the door opened. -</p> - -<p> -“How did you do that?” I asked. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know.” She seemed surprised. “I was just pushing at the thing -when—it came open. There’s a trick about it I expect; we’ll find out -what it is to-morrow, there’s no time now. At present it’s enough that -it’s open; out you go!” -</p> - -<p> -When we were out in the street, and she pulled it to, it shut behind -us with an ominous clang, like the iron gates used to do in the -barons’ castle which we read about in the days of old. We took the -tram in the Westminster Bridge Road, then walked the rest of the way. -It was half-past eight when we arrived. As I expected, of course Mr. -Cooper wasn’t there. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, we ought not to stop. We ought to be in before nine this -first night, at any rate. We don’t know what will happen if we’re -not.” -</p> - -<p> -“You can go back if you like, but I must and will see Tom.” -</p> - -<p> -Nine o’clock came and still no Mr. Cooper. I was in such a state I was -ready to drop. It was nearly a quarter-past before he turned up. Then -they both began talking together at such a rate that it was impossible -to get a word in edgeways. When I did succeed in bringing Pollie to -some consciousness of the position we were in, and she asked Mr. -Cooper to start back with us at once, he would not go. He said that he -had had such a narrow escape the night before, and had had such -difficulty in getting in—so far as I could make out he had had to -climb up a pipe, or something, and had scraped a hole in both knees of -his trousers against the wall—that he had determined that it should -be some time before he ran such a risk again, and had therefore made -up his mind that he would be in extra early as a sort of set-off. It -was no good Pollie talking. For some cause or other he did not seem to -be in the best of tempers. And then, when she found that, after all -our waiting, he would not see us home, she got excited. They began -saying things to each other which they never meant. So they -quarrelled. -</p> - -<p> -Finally Mr. Cooper marched off in a rage, declaring that now she had -come into a fortune she looked upon him as a servant, and that though -she had inherited £488 9s. 6d. a year, and a house, he would not be -treated like a lackey. She was in such a fury that she was almost -crying. She assured me that she would never speak to him again until -she was compelled, and that they would both be grey before that time -came. All I wanted to do was to keep outside the quarrel, because they -had behaved like a couple of stupids, and to find myself in safe -quarters for the night. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know, my dear Pollie, if you’re aware that it’s past -half-past ten. Do you propose to return to Camford Street?” -</p> - -<p> -“Past half-past ten!” She started. Her thoughts flew off to Mr. -Cooper. “Then he’ll be late again! Whatever will he do?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not of what he’ll do I’m thinking, but of what we’re going to -do. After what your uncle said, do you propose to return to Camford -Street at this hour of the night?” -</p> - -<p> -“We shall have to. There’s nowhere else to go. I wish I’d never come -to see him now; it hasn’t been a very pleasant interview, I’m sure.” I -cordially agreed with her—I wished she had not. But it was too late -to shut the stable-door after the steed was stolen. “Let’s hurry. -There’s one thing, I’ve got the back-door key in my pocket, if the -worst does come to the worst.” -</p> - -<p> -What she meant I do not think she quite knew herself. She was in a -state of mind in which she was inclined to talk at random. -</p> - -<p> -We had not gone fifty yards when a man, coming to us from across the -street, took off his hat to Pollie. I had noticed him when she was -having her argument with Mr. Cooper, and had felt sure that he was -watching us. There was something about the way in which he kept -walking up and down which I had not liked, and now that Mr. Cooper had -gone I was not at all surprised that he accosted us. He looked about -thirty; had a short light brown beard and whiskers, which were very -nicely trimmed; a pair of those very pale blue eyes which are almost -the colour of steel; and there was something about him which made one -think that he had spent most of his life in open air. He wore what -looked, in that light—he had stopped us almost immediately under a -gas-lamp—like a navy blue serge suit and a black bowler hat. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, I believe, the niece of my old friend Batters. My name is -Max Lander. Perhaps you have heard him speak of me.” -</p> - -<p> -His manner could not have been more civil. Yet, under the -circumstances, it was not singular that Pollie shrank from being -addressed by a stranger. Putting her arm through mine, she looked him -in the face. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Have you never heard your uncle speak of me—Max Lander?” -</p> - -<p> -“I never knew my uncle.” -</p> - -<p> -“You never knew your uncle?” He spoke, in echoing her words, almost as -if he doubted her. “Then where is your uncle now?” -</p> - -<p> -“He is dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“Dead?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you knew my uncle, as you say you did, you must know that he is -dead. Come, Emily, let us go. I think this gentleman has made a -mistake.” -</p> - -<p> -“Stop, Miss Blyth, I beg of you. Where did your uncle die?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know where exactly, it was somewhere in Australia.” -</p> - -<p> -“In Australia!” I never saw surprise written more plainly on a -person’s face. “But when?” -</p> - -<p> -“If, as you say, you knew him, then you ought to know better than I, -who never did.” -</p> - -<p> -“When I last saw Mr. Batters he didn’t look as if he meant to die.” -</p> - -<p> -He gave a short laugh, as if he were enjoying some curious little joke -of his own. -</p> - -<p> -“Where did you see him last?” -</p> - -<p> -“On the <i>Flying Scud</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -“The <i>Flying Scud</i>? What’s that?” -</p> - -<p> -“My ship. Or, rather, it was my ship. The devil knows whose it is -now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Lander, if that really is your name, I don’t know anything about -my uncle, except that he is dead. Was he a sailor?” -</p> - -<p> -“A sailor?” He seemed as if he could not make her out. I stood close -to him, so that I saw him well; it struck me that he looked at her -with suspicion in his eyes. “He was no sailor. At least, so far as I -know. But he was the most remarkable man who ever drew breath. In -saying that I’m saying little. You can’t know much of him if you don’t -know so much. Then, if he’s dead, where’s Luke?” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke with sudden heat, as if a thought had all at once occurred to -him. -</p> - -<p> -“Luke? What is Luke?—another ship?” -</p> - -<p> -“Another ship? Great Cæsar!” Taking off his hat, he ran his fingers -through his short brown hair. “Miss Blyth, either you’re a chip of the -old block, in which case I’m sorry for you, and for myself too, or, -somewhere, there’s something very queer. Hollo! Who are you?” -</p> - -<p> -While we had been talking a man had been sidling towards us along the -pavement. He had on a long black coat, and a hat crammed over his -eyes. As he passed behind Mr. Lander he stopped. Mr. Lander spun -round. On the instant he tore off as if for his life. Without a -moment’s hesitation Mr. Lander rushed full speed after him. Pollie and -I stood staring in the direction they had gone. -</p> - -<p> -“Whatever is the matter now?” I asked. “What did the man do to Mr. -Lander?” -</p> - -<p> -“Emily, that’s the man who slipped the paper into my hand last -night—you remember? There’s a cab across the road; let’s get into it -and get away from here as fast as we can.” -</p> - -<p> -We crossed and hailed the cabman. As he drew up beside the kerb, and -we were about to enter, who should come tearing over the road to us -again but Mr. Lander. He was panting for breath. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, I do beg that you will let me speak to you. If not here, -then let me come with you and speak to you elsewhere.” -</p> - -<p> -“I would rather you did not come with us, thank you, I would very much -rather that you did not.” -</p> - -<p> -He stood with his hand on the apron of the hansom in such a way that -he prevented us from entering. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth, you don’t look like your uncle—God forbid! You look -honest and true. If you have a woman’s heart in your bosom I entreat -you to hear me. Your uncle did me the greatest injury a man could have -done. I implore you to help me to undo that injury, so far as, by the -grace of God, it can be undone.” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke in a strain of passion which I could see that Pollie did not -altogether relish. I didn’t either. -</p> - -<p> -“I will give you my solicitor’s name and address, then you can call on -him, and tell him all you have to say.” -</p> - -<p> -“Your solicitor! I don’t want to speak to your solicitor; he may be -another rogue like your uncle. I want to speak to you.” -</p> - -<p> -Before Pollie could answer, another man came up. He touched his hat to -Mr. Lander. -</p> - -<p> -“I beg your pardon, sir, but this is the young lady I told you about. -Miss Blyth will remember me, because I was so fortunate as to do her a -small service last night. May I hope, Miss Blyth, that you have not -forgotten me?” -</p> - -<p> -The man spoke in a small, squeaky voice, which was in ridiculous -contrast to his enormous size. It was actually the creature who had -paid the bill for us the night before at Firandolo’s—one shilling and -threepence! My impulse was to take out my purse, give him this money, -and be rid of him for good and all. But, before I had a chance of -doing so, Mr. Lander turned upon him in quite a passion. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean by thrusting in your oar? Get out of it, Ike Rudd!” -</p> - -<p> -“I beg your pardon, sir, I’m sure, if I’m intruding, and the young -lady’s; but, seeing that I was able to do her a little service, I -thought that perhaps she might be willing——” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Lander cut him short with a positive roar. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you hear me tell you to take yourself out of this, you -blundering ass!” -</p> - -<p> -In his anger with Mr. Rudd he moved away from the cab. Without a -moment’s delay Pollie jumped into it, and dragged me after her. -</p> - -<p> -“Drive off, and don’t stop for anyone!” -</p> - -<p> -It was done so quickly that before Mr. Lander had an opportunity to -realise what was happening the driver gave his horse a cut of the -whip. The creature gave a bound which it was a wonder to me did not -upset the hansom, and when his master struck him again he galloped off -as if he were racing for the Derby. -</p> - -<p> -After we had gone a little way—at full pelt!—the driver spoke to us -through the trap-door overhead. -</p> - -<p> -“Where to, miss?” -</p> - -<p> -“Is he following us?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not he. He tried a step or two, but when he saw at what a lick we -were going he jerked it up. He went back and had a row with the other -chap instead, the one who came up and spoke to him I mean. They’re at -it now. Has he been bothering you, miss?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know anything at all about him. He’s a perfect stranger to -me. I think he must be mad. Drive us to the Westminster Bridge Road, -if you are sure that he’s not following.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll see that that’s all right, you trust me.” He swung round a -corner. “He’s out of sight now, I should think for good; but if he -does come in sight again I’ll let you know. What part of the -Westminster Bridge Road?” -</p> - -<p> -Pollie hesitated. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll tell you when we get there.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch10"> -CHAPTER X.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">BETWEEN 13 AND 14, ROSEMARY STREET.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">A</span> church clock struck as we rolled along. -</p> - -<p> -“That sounds like nine—a quarter-past eleven. What shall you do if we -can’t get in at all?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not get into my own house? My dear, this is not a case of Cardew and -Slaughter’s. What is going to keep me out of my own house—if I choose -to enter it with the milk!—I should like to know.” -</p> - -<p> -I did not know. I could not even guess. But all the same I had a sort -of feeling that someone could—and might. “My own house” came glibly -from her tongue. That morning there had been ten shillings between her -and the workhouse; already she had become quite the woman of -established means. I might have been the same had the case been mine. -You never know. It must be so nice to have something of your very own. -</p> - -<p> -We were nearing the Westminster Bridge Road. Again the driver spoke to -us from above; he had hardly slackened pace the whole of the way. -</p> - -<p> -“Coast clear, miss; not had a sight of the party since we lost him. -Where shall I put you down?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll stop you in a minute; keep on to the left.” Pollie spoke to me. -“What did it say in the letter was the name of the street in which is -the entrance to the back door?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rosemary Street.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course! I couldn’t remember its stupid name.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I shouldn’t tell him to put us down just there. You don’t know -who may be waiting for us.” -</p> - -<p> -I was leaning over the front of the cab, keeping a sharp look-out. -There were the crowded trams and omnibuses, and many people on the -pavements; but I noticed nothing in any way suspicious. -</p> - -<p> -“Who should be waiting for us? Haven’t we shaken Mr. Lander off? -Didn’t the cabman say so?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes. But—you never know.” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean? What are you driving at?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing. Only it’s past nine. The letter said that it was the time -your greatest peril began.” -</p> - -<p> -“What nonsense you do talk! Do you think I pay attention to such -stuff? Lucky I’m not nervous, or you’d give me the fidgets. The sooner -everybody understands that I intend to go in and out of my own house -at any time I please the less trouble there is likely to be. I’m not a -child, to be told at what time I’m to come home.” -</p> - -<p> -I was silent. She spoke boldly enough; a trifle too boldly I thought. -There was an unnecessary amount of vigour in her tone, as if she -wished to impress the whole world with the fact that she was not in -the least concerned. But she acted on the hint all the same—she -stopped the cab before we reached our destination. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all right now, miss,” said the driver. It was rather a novel -sensation for us to be riding in cabs, and the fare we paid him did -make a hole in one’s purse. It was lucky there was that four hundred -and eighty-eight pounds nineteen shillings and sixpence to fall back -upon. “You’ve seen the last of that fine gentleman, for to-night at -any rate. Good-night, miss, and thank you.” -</p> - -<p> -I was not so sure that it was all right. We might have seen the last -of “that fine gentleman,” as the cabman called Mr. Lander, though -there was nothing particularly “fine” about him that I could see; but -there might be other gentlemen, still less “fine,” who had yet to be -interviewed. When the hansom had driven off, as we walked along the -pavement, I felt more and more uncomfortable, though I would not have -hinted at anything of the kind to Pollie for worlds. -</p> - -<p> -“Have we passed Camford Street?” she wondered. “I don’t know which -side of it is Rosemary Street.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sure I don’t. You had better ask.” -</p> - -<p> -We were standing at the corner of a narrow street, a pretty dark and -deserted one it seemed. Pollie turned to make enquiries of some -passer-by. A man came towards us. -</p> - -<p> -“Can you tell me which is Rosemary Street?” she said. -</p> - -<p> -“This way! this way!” -</p> - -<p> -He took her by the arm and led her into a gloomy-looking street, as if -he were showing her the way. She must have been purblind, or -completely off her guard, to have been tricked by him so easily, -because directly he spoke I recognised him as the person in the long -black coat who had fled from Mr. Lander. I myself was taken by -surprise, or I would have called out and warned her. But I suppose -that I was bewildered by his sudden and wholly unexpected appearance, -because, instead of bidding her look out, I went after her into the -narrow lane, for really it seemed to be no more. -</p> - -<p> -The moment we were round the corner two other figures appeared out of -the darkness as if by magic. But by now Pollie had taken the alarm. -</p> - -<p> -“Let me go!” she cried to her conductor. “Take your hand away from my -arm!” -</p> - -<p> -He showed no inclination to do anything of the kind. -</p> - -<p> -“This way! this way!” he kept repeating, as if he were a parrot. He -spoke with a strong foreign accent—as if his stock of English was not -a large one. -</p> - -<p> -But Pollie was not to be so easily persuaded. She stood stock still, -evincing every disposition to shake herself free from his grasp. -</p> - -<p> -“Let me go! let me go!” -</p> - -<p> -The taller of the two newcomers uttered some words in a language which -I had never heard before. Giving Pollie no time to guess what he was -about to do he produced a cloth and threw it over her head. The other -man sprang at her like a wild animal. Between them they began to bear -her to the ground. I was not going to stand quietly by and see that -kind of thing go on. I may not be big, and I do not pretend to be -brave, but I am not an absolute coward all the same. -</p> - -<p> -The smaller of the newcomers had taken me by the arm. I did my best to -make him wish that he had not. I flew at him. -</p> - -<p> -“You villain! Let me go, or I’ll scratch your eyes out!” -</p> - -<p> -The little wretch—he was little; I do not believe he was any bigger -than I was, or perhaps I should not be alive to tell this -tale—actually tried to throw a cloth over my head. When I put up my -arms, and stopped his doing that, he began to dab it against my mouth, -as if to prevent my screaming. There was a nasty smell about that -cloth. It was damp. All of a sudden it struck me that he was trying to -take away my senses with chloroform, or some awful stuff of that kind. -And then didn’t I start shrieking; I should think they might have -heard me on the other side of the bridge. -</p> - -<p> -In less than no time—or so it seemed to me—a policeman came round -the corner. Apparently he was the only one who had heard; but he was -quite enough. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the matter here?” How I could have kissed him for his dear -official voice. “What’s the meaning of all this?” -</p> - -<p> -Those three cowards did not wait to explain. Really before the words -were out of his lips they were off down the lane like streaks of -lightning. All my man left behind him was the smell of his horrid -cloth. Beyond disarranging my hat and my hair, and that kind of thing, -I knew that he had not damaged me almost before, so to speak, I -examined myself to see. -</p> - -<p> -“Has he hurt you?” asked the constable. “What was he trying to do?” -</p> - -<p> -“He has not hurt me, thanks to you; but in another half second I’m -quite sure he would have done. He was trying to chloroform me, or -something frightful, I smelt it on his cloth.” -</p> - -<p> -“Who’s this on the ground?” -</p> - -<p> -It was Pollie. In my excitement I had quite forgotten to notice what -had become of her. She lay all of a heap. Down I plumped on my knees -beside her. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie!” I cried. “Has he killed you?” -</p> - -<p> -“No fear,” said the policeman. “She’s only a bit queer. I shouldn’t be -surprised if they’ve played the same sort of trick on her they tried -to play on you.” -</p> - -<p> -It was so. That policeman was a most intelligent man, and quite -good-looking, with a fair moustache which turned up a little at the -ends. They had endeavoured to stupefy her with some drug; the -policemen said he didn’t think it was chloroform, it didn’t smell like -it. I didn’t know—to my knowledge I have never smelt chloroform in my -life, nor do I ever want to. They had so far succeeded that she had -nearly lost her senses, but not entirely. When I lifted her head she -gave several convulsive twitches, so that it was all I could do to -retain my hold. Then she opened her eyes and she asked where she was. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all right,” I told her. “They’ve gone. I hope they haven’t hurt -you.” -</p> - -<p> -She sat up, and she looked about her. She saw me, and she saw the -constable, which fact she at once made plain. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you’re a policeman, are you? It’s as well that there are such -things as policemen after all.” Her meaning was not precisely clear, -but I hardly think it was altogether flattering to the force, which -was ungrateful on her part. “I don’t think they’ve hurt me. I believe -it was the keys they were after, though they’ve left them both behind. -Perhaps that was because they hadn’t time to properly search for -them.” She was feeling in her pocket. “But they have taken Uncle -Benjamin’s letter—the one in which he told us how to get in at the -back door.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a pause. I realised all that the abstraction might mean. If -it had told us how to enter, it would tell them too. It was lucky they -had had to go without the key. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know the men?” inquired the officer. “You had better charge -them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Charge them?” She put her hand up to her head, as if she were dazed. -I rather fancied she was making as much of her feelings as she could. -Unless I was mistaken she was endeavouring to gain time to consider -the policeman’s words. Under the circumstances it might not be -altogether convenient to charge them, even though they had proved -themselves to be such utter scoundrels. “But I don’t know what men -they were.” -</p> - -<p> -“That doesn’t matter; I daresay we know. You mustn’t allow an outrage -like this to pass unnoticed; they might have murdered you. I’ll take -the charge.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you.” She stood up. He had produced his notebook. “I don’t -think I’ll trouble you. There are circumstances connected with the -matter which render it necessary that I should think it over.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s there to think about? It was an attempt to rob with violence, -that’s what it was; as clear a case as ever I knew. Come, give me your -name, miss, then I’ll have the particulars. What name?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid you must excuse me. When I’ve thought the matter over you -shall hear from me again, but I cannot act without consideration. -Thank you all the same.” -</p> - -<p> -She carried it off with an air which took the constable aback. He was -not best pleased. He eyed her for a second or two, then he closed his -notebook with a snap. -</p> - -<p> -“Very good. Of course, if you won’t make a charge I can’t take it. All -I can say is, that if you find yourself in the same hole again, it’ll -about serve you right if no one comes to help you. It’s because people -won’t go into court that there’s so much of this sort of thing about. -What’s the good of having laws if you won’t let them protect you.” -</p> - -<p> -Off he strode in a huff. I stared after him a little blankly. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think, Pollie, that you need have been quite so short with -him. What he says is true; we might have been murdered if it hadn’t -been for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wasn’t short with him; I didn’t mean to be. But I couldn’t charge -them—could I? Besides, I want to get in. I didn’t want to have him -hanging about, for I don’t know how long, watching us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Someone else may be watching us.” -</p> - -<p> -“No fear of that; they’ve had enough of it for to-night.” -</p> - -<p> -“So you said before, and hardly had you said there was nothing to fear -when they had us at their mercy. It’s my belief that what your uncle -said in that letter—which now they’ve got—is true, and that we are -in peril, dreadful peril, and that though we mayn’t know it someone is -watching us all the time. For my part I should like that policeman to -have kept his eye upon us until we were safe indoors.” -</p> - -<p> -“After what my uncle said about allowing no one to see us enter?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a pity you are not equally particular about everything your -uncle said, my dear.” -</p> - -<p> -Off we started down the lane, or street, or whatever it was. If I had -had my way, after all that had happened, I would not have attempted to -enter the house until at any rate next morning; I would rather have -wandered about the streets all night. But I could see that she was set -on at least trying to get in. I did not wish to quarrel, or to be -accused of a wish to desert her after promising to be her companion. -So I stuck to her side. Presently she spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know, Emily, I believe I haven’t got the very clearest -recollection of the directions in uncle’s letter. Didn’t he say -something about a passage?” -</p> - -<p> -“He said that there was one between 13 and 14 Rosemary Street. The -question is, is this Rosemary Street? We don’t know.” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ll soon find out. Which are 13 and 14? It’s so dark it’s hard to -tell.” -</p> - -<p> -It was dark; which fact lent an additional charm to the situation. On -one side were the backs of what seemed like mews; all they presented -to us was a high dead wall. On the other was a row of cottages. If -they were occupied all the inhabitants were in bed. There was not a -light to be seen at any of the windows. Pollie began to peer at the -numbers on the doors. -</p> - -<p> -“This is 26.” She passed on. “And this is 25; so 13 and 14 must be -this way.” We went farther along the street. “Here is 14—and here’s -the passage.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a passage, between two of the mean little houses. But so -narrow an one that, if we had not been on the look-out for it, we -should have passed it by unnoticed. Such was the darkness that we -could not see six feet down it, so that it was impossible to tell -where it led to, or what was at the end. I did not like the idea of -venturing into it at all. I would have given almost anything to have -flown down the street and sought the protection of that nice -policeman. My heart was going pitter patter; I could feel it knocking -against my corsets. I did not know if Pollie really was nervous, -though I do not believe that it was in feminine human nature to have -been anything else; but she behaved as though she wasn’t. I could not -have made believe so well. She apparently did not hesitate about what -was the best, and proper, and only thing to do. There was not even a -tremor in her voice. -</p> - -<p> -“What did uncle say—at the end there is a wall?” -</p> - -<p> -“I—I think he did.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then now for the wall.” -</p> - -<p> -She dashed into the passage. I was afraid to do anything else—and she -did not give me a chance to remonstrate—so I went after her. I am -thankful to say that nothing happened to us as we went, though I -seemed to see and hear all sorts of things. After we had gone what -appeared to be a mile Pollie suddenly stopped. -</p> - -<p> -“Here is the wall. Now to climb it. Didn’t uncle say we should find -two stanchions? Was it on the right or on the left? Here they are, on -the right; at least, I suppose they’re stanchions. They feel like two -pieces of iron driven into the brickwork. Now for a climb. One good -thing—the wall isn’t high.” -</p> - -<p> -Since I could only perceive her dim outline, and didn’t wish to have -her vanish altogether in the darkness, I had kept my hand on her. I -could feel, rather than see, her going through the motions of -climbing. I was conscious she had reached the top. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Emily, you come. It’s easy; give me your hand.” -</p> - -<p> -I gave her my hand. In a second or two I was beside her, on the crest -of the wall. -</p> - -<p> -“Now let’s go together, it’s nothing of a drop.” -</p> - -<p> -As she said, it was nothing of a drop, and we went together. I suppose -the wall was not much, if at all, over five feet in height. We landed -on what felt like a pavement of bricks. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a pity it’s so dark. Here it’s worse than ever. I can’t see my -hand before my face, can you?” -</p> - -<p> -I could not. I told her so. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, we’ll have to feel, that’s all; and we’ll hope that we’re in -the right backyard. It would be something more than a joke if we -weren’t; they might take us for burglars. Come on; give me your hand -again; we’ll feel our way—tread carefully whatever you do. Hollo! -here is a door. And—Emily, there’s the spot of light! Do you see it -there upon the door? As uncle says, it shines at us. Whether it’s -luminous paint, or whether it’s something much more wonderful, truly, -it lightens our darkness. Doesn’t it, my dear? Where is that key?” -</p> - -<p> -I could see, straight in front of us, a round spot of something which -gleamed. It was not bigger than a threepenny piece. It might have been -a monster glow-worm. Or, as Polly said, a dab of luminous paint. But -there was no time to ascertain what it was, because, almost as soon as -I saw it, I heard something too. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, there’s someone coming along the passage.” -</p> - -<p> -In the silence, there was what was obviously the sound of feet, feet -which were apparently moving as if they did not wish to be heard. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch11"> -CHAPTER XI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">ONE WAY IN.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I heard</span> her fumbling with her pocket. -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t find the thing; I had it just now; I can’t have dropped it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Pollie! Quick! they’re at the wall!” -</p> - -<p> -There was a scraping noise from behind; a muffled whispering. It -sounded as if someone was endeavouring to negotiate the obstacle we -had just surmounted. Still Pollie was continuing her researches. -</p> - -<p> -“Where can I have put the thing?” -</p> - -<p> -“Can’t you find it? Oh, Pollie!” -</p> - -<p> -Someone was on the wall; had dropped softly to the ground. The sound -of his alighting feet was distinctly audible. There was a pause, as if -for someone to follow. It was the pause which saved us. As I waited, -with my heart actually banging against my ribs, my legs giving way at -the knees, expecting every second that someone would come darting at -us through the darkness, just in time to save me from toppling in a -heap on to the ground Pollie found the key. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve got it! What did uncle say I was to do with it? Push it against -the spot of light—and then? I’ve got it into the keyhole; can’t you -remember what uncle said I was to do with it then? It turns round and -round.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie!—they’re coming!” -</p> - -<p> -They were. There was the sound of advancing footsteps. Approaching -forms loomed dimly through the darkness. That same instant Pollie -caught the trick of it; the door opened. -</p> - -<p> -“Inside!” she gasped. -</p> - -<p> -I was inside, moving faster than I had ever done in my life before. -And Pollie was after me. The door shut behind us, seemingly of its own -accord, with a kind of groan. -</p> - -<p> -“That was a near thing!” -</p> - -<p> -It could hardly have been nearer. Whoever was upon our heels had -almost effected a simultaneous entrance with ourselves. -</p> - -<p> -“He made a grab at my skirt; I felt his hand!” -</p> - -<p> -But the door had closed so quickly that whoever was there had had no -time to make an attempt to keep it open. It was pitch dark within, -darker almost than it had been without. Pollie pressed close to my -side. The fingers of one of her hands interlaced themselves with mine; -she gripped me tighter than she perhaps thought. Her lips were near my -ear; she spoke as if she were short of breath. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s a good spring upon that door; it moved a bit too fast for -them; it shuts like a rat-trap. Listen!” -</p> - -<p> -There was no need to bid me to do that; already my sense of hearing -was on the strain. Someone, apparently, was trying the door; to see if -it was really shut; or if it could not be induced to open again. -</p> - -<p> -There were voices in whispered consultation. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s more than one; I wondered if there was more than one.” -</p> - -<p> -“There are three,” I said. -</p> - -<p> -Presently someone struck the door lightly, with the palm of the hand, -or with the fist. Then, more forcibly, a rain of blows. Unless I was -mistaken, the assault came from more than one pair of hands; it was -like an attack made in the impotence of childish passion. The voices -were raised, as if they called to us. They were like none which either -of us had ever heard before; there was a curious squeakiness about -them, as if their natural tone was a falsetto. What they said was -gibberish to us; it was uttered in an unknown tongue. The voices -ceased. After an interval, during which, one suspected, their owners -had withdrawn a step or two to consider the situation, one was raised -alone. It had in it a threatening quality, as if it warned us of the -pains and penalties we were incurring. The fact that we were being -addressed in a language which was, to us, completely strange, seemed -at that moment to have about it something dreadful. Audibly, we paid -no heed. Only I felt Pollie’s grip growing tighter and tighter. I -wondered if she knew that she would crush my fingers if she did not -take care. -</p> - -<p> -The single speaker ceased to hurl at us his imprecations. I felt sure -it was bad language he was using. All was still. -</p> - -<p> -“What are they doing?” -</p> - -<p> -So close were Pollie’s lips her whispered words tickled my ear. We had -not long to wait before the answer came—in the shape of a smashing -blow directed against the door. -</p> - -<p> -“They’re trying to break it down; they’ll soon wake up the -neighbourhood if they make that noise. Let’s get farther into the -house. Why—whatever’s that?” -</p> - -<p> -She had turned. In doing so she had pulled me half round with her. Her -words caused me to glance about in the darkness, searching for some -new terror. Nor was I long in learning what had caused her -exclamation. There, glaring at us through the inky blackness in -flaming letters, a foot in length, were the words “<i>TOO LATE!</i>” -Beneath them was some hideous creature’s head. -</p> - -<p> -For a second or two, in the first shock of surprise, I imagined it to -be the head of some actual man, or, rather, monster. As it gleamed -there, with its wide open jaws, huge teeth and flashing eyes, it was -like the vivid realisation of some dreadful nightmare. It was as if -something of horror, which had haunted us in sleep, had suddenly taken -on itself some tangible shape and form. So irresistible was this -impression, so unexpected was the shock of discovering it, that I -believe, if Pollie had not caught hold of me with both her hands, and -held me up, I should have fallen to the floor. As it was I reeled and -staggered, so that I daresay it needed all her strength to keep me -perpendicular. It was her voice, addressing me in earnest, half angry, -expostulation which reassured me—at least in part. -</p> - -<p> -“You goose! Don’t you see that it’s a picture drawn with phosphorus, -or luminous paint, or something, on the wall. It won’t bite you; -you’re not afraid of a picture, child.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a picture; and, when you came to look into it, not a -particularly well-drawn one either. Though I could not understand how -we had missed seeing it so soon as we had entered—unless the -explanation was that it had only just been put there. And, if that was -the case, by whom? and how? A brief inspection was enough to show that -the thing was more like one of those masks which boys wear on Guy -Fawkes’ day than anything else. It was just as ridiculous, and just as -much like anything in heaven or earth. -</p> - -<p> -“Let’s get out of this; let’s go into the house; why do you stop in -this horrid place? Where’s the door?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the question—Where is it? Uncle Benjamin’s ideas of the -proper way of getting in and out of a house are a little too ingenious -for me; we seem to be in a sort of entry with nothing but walls all -round us. Haven’t you a match? Didn’t you take a box out with you? For -goodness sake don’t say you’ve lost it.” -</p> - -<p> -I had not lost it, fortunately for us. I gave it to her. She struck a -light. As she did so, the face and the writing on the wall grew -dimmer. They were only visible when, standing before the flame, she -cast them into shadow. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, this is a pretty state of things, upon my word! There doesn’t -seem to be a door!” -</p> - -<p> -There did not. The flickering match served to show that we were in -what looked uncommonly like an ingenious trap. We were in what seemed -to be a sort of vault, or cell, which was just large enough to enable -us to turn about with a tolerable amount of freedom, and that was all. -Semblance of a door there was none, not even of that by which we had -entered. So far as could be judged by that imperfect light on all four -sides were dirty, discoloured, bare walls, in not one of which was -there a crack or crevice which suggested a means of going out or in. -As Pollie had said, it was indeed a pretty state of things. It seemed -that we were prisoners, and in a prison from which there was no way -out. Our situation reminded me of terrible stories which I had read -about the Spanish Inquisition; of the sufferings of men and women, and -even girls, who had spent weeks, and months, and years, in hidden -dungeons out of which they had never come alive again. -</p> - -<p> -Just as I had begun to really realise the fact that there did not seem -to be a door, Pollie’s match went out. That same moment there came a -fresh crash from without. And, directly after, another sound, or, -rather, sounds. Something was taking place outside which, to us, shut -in there, sounded uncommonly like a scrimmage, or the beginning of -one, at any rate. Someone else, apparently, had climbed over the wall, -a weighty someone, for we heard him descend with a ponderous flop. -Without a doubt, the first comers had heard him too, with misgivings. -Something fell, with a clatter—perhaps the tool with which they had -been assailing the door. There was a scurrying of feet, as of persons -eager to seek safety in flight. An exclamation or two, it seemed to us -in English; then a thud, as if some soft and heavy body had come in -sudden contact with the ground. A momentary silence. Then what was -unmistakably an official voice, a beautiful and a blessed voice it -sounded to me just then. -</p> - -<p> -“All right, my lads! A little tricky, aren’t you? I daresay you think -you did that very neat. You wait a bit. Next time it’ll be my turn, -then perhaps I’ll show you a dodge or two.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie,” I exclaimed, “it’s that nice policeman!” -</p> - -<p> -“Hush! What if it is?” -</p> - -<p> -What if it is? Everything—to me. It meant the flight of mystery, and -an opportunity to breathe again. If I could have had my way I would -have rushed out into the back yard and hugged him. But Pollie was so -cold, and—when she liked and her precious Tom wasn’t concerned—so -self-contained. She froze me. I could hear his dear big feet stamping -across the yard. He thumped against the door—and I perhaps within an -inch of him and not allowed to say a word. -</p> - -<p> -“Inside there! Is there anyone in there?” There was; there was me. I -longed to tell him so, only Pollie’s grasp closed so tightly on my -arm—I knew it would be black and blue in the morning—that I did not -dare. “Isn’t there a bell or a knocker? This seems to be a queer sort -of a house. There’s something fishy about the place, or I’m mistaken.” -</p> - -<p> -I could have assured him that he was not mistaken, and would if it had -not been for Pollie. I could picture him in my mind’s eyes flashing -the rays of his bull’s-eye lantern in search of something by means of -which he could acquaint the inhabitants within of his presence there -without—in his innocence! As if we did not know that he was there. -For some minutes—it seemed hours to me—he prowled about, patiently -looking for what he could not find. Then, giving up the quest in -despair, he strode across the yard, climbed heavily over the wall, -stamped along the passage; we could hear his footsteps even in the -street beyond. -</p> - -<p> -Then I ventured to use my tongue. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, why wouldn’t you let me speak to him? Why wouldn’t you let me -tell him we were here?” -</p> - -<p> -“And a nice fuss there’d have been. No, thanks, my dear. Before I call -in the assistance of the police I should like to turn the matter over -in my mind. It begins to strike me that where my Uncle Benjamin had -reasons for concealment, I may have reasons too, at any rate until I -know just what there is to conceal.” -</p> - -<p> -“In the meanwhile, how are we to get out of here? We’re trapped.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s the ingenuity with which Uncle Ben, or somebody, has guarded the -approach to his, or, rather, my, premises which makes it clear to me -that there may be something about the place on which it may be as well -not to be in too great a hurry to turn the searchlight of a -policeman’s eye. As to getting out of this—we’ll see.” -</p> - -<p> -She struck another match, and saw. Either we had been the victims of -an ocular delusion, or something curious had taken place since she had -struck the first, for where, just now, there was a blank wall, in -which was no sign of any opening, a door stood wide open. I could not -credit the evidence of my own eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“I declare,” I cried, “it wasn’t there just now.” -</p> - -<p> -“It was not visible, at any rate. I tell you what, my dear, we mayn’t -be the only occupants of this establishment, that’s about the truth of -it. It’s possible that there’s someone behind the scenes who’s pulling -the strings.” -</p> - -<p> -I did not like the ideas which her words conjured up at all. -</p> - -<p> -“But—who can it be?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s for us to discover.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a grimness about her tone which suggested what was, to me, a -new side of Pollie’s character. My impulse was to get away from the -place as fast as ever I could and never return to it again. She spoke -as if she were not only resolved to remain, and defied anyone to turn -her out who could, but as if she had a positive appetite for any—to -put it mildly—disagreeable experiences which her remaining might -involve. The first horror she encountered then and there. If she did -not mind it—I only wish that I could say the same of myself! -</p> - -<p> -“You left the candle in the hall; let’s go and fetch it.” -</p> - -<p> -As soon as we set foot outside that entry there was a pandemonium of -sounds, as of a legion rushing, scrambling, squeaking. It was -rats—myriads. The whole house swarmed with them; they were -everywhere. They were about our feet; I felt them rushing over my -boots, whirling against my skirts. One rat is bad enough, in the -light, but in the dark—that multitude! I had to scream; to stumble -blindfold among those writhing creatures, and keep still, was -altogether too much for my capacity. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie!—light a match!—quick!—they’re all over me!—Pollie!” -</p> - -<p> -She struck a match. I do not know that it was any better now that we -could see them. The light only seemed to make them more excited. In -fact, their squeaking increased so much that, thinking that it angered -them, I had half a mind to tell Pollie to put it out again. But she -never gave me a chance. Taking me by the arm she dragged me along the -passage so that we were at the front door before I knew it. When we -went out we had left a candle on the floor in the passage so that it -might be ready for us when we came back. Pollie stooped to pick it up. -But, instead of doing so at once, she remained in the same position -for a second or two, as if she were staring at something. Then she -broke into a laugh. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, that beats anything. That was a new candle when we went out; -look at it now.” -</p> - -<p> -I looked; the candle had vanished. In its place what seemed to be a -greasy piece of twine trailed over the side of the candlestick. The -candle itself had been consumed by the rats; they had presented us -with an object lesson, by way of showing us what they could do if they -had a chance. I shuddered. I had heard of their fondness for fat. I am -not thin. I thought of them picking the plumpness off my bones as I -lay sleeping. -</p> - -<p> -“Let’s get out of this awful house. Do, Pollie, do! The rats will eat -us if we stay in it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Let ’em try. They’ll find us tougher morsels than you think. If a rat -once has a taste of me he won’t want another, I promise you that, my -dear.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a frightful thing to say. It made my blood run cold to hear -her. I felt absolutely convinced that if rats once started nibbling at -me they would never rest content till they had had all of me that they -could eat. I was sure that there was not enough that was tough about -me. In that hour of trial I almost wished that there had been. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch12"> -CHAPTER XII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE SHUTTING OF A DOOR.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">We</span> went upstairs to get another candle. A pound had been left on the -parlour mantelpiece wrapped up in a stout brown paper. The rats had -climbed up on to the shelf, they alone knew how, torn the paper to -shreds, and made a meal off the contents. Pieces of candle were left, -but not one whole one. Other things had been on that mantelpiece—tea, -butter, bread, sugar, bacon, eggs, all the food we had. Practically -the whole of it was gone. More of the tea was left than anything; -possibly they had not found it altogether to their palates. But the -butter had been entirely consumed; of the bacon, only the rind -remained, and of the eggs the shells. I had heard, and I had read, a -good deal about the voracity of rats, but never had I seen an example -of it before. Pollie seemed to look on it as quite a joke. She only -hoped, she said, that the quality of the provisions was good, so that -they would not give them indigestion. But I could not see the fun at -all. If that was a sample of their appetite, who could doubt that they -would at any rate try to make a meal of us. I had been told of their -devouring people’s toes as if they were toothsome dainties. I did not -want them to stay their stomachs with mine if I could help it. With -such calmness as I could command I did my best to explain my views -upon the matter. But Pollie only laughed. She would not be sensible. -So I then and there made up my mind that, sleep or no sleep, I would -not take off my clothes that night. If I was to be devoured they -should eat their way through my garments before they could get at me. -</p> - -<p> -Pollie lit one of the stumps of the candles. The rest she slipped into -her pocket. If we left them there again, she remarked, they would -probably vanish completely directly our backs were turned, and candles -were precious, which was true enough; but there were other things -which were precious as well as candles. I asked her what she was going -to do. -</p> - -<p> -“Investigate, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to find out -what’s behind those two closed doors. If it’s something alive I’d like -to know. Also, in that case, I’d like to know just what it is. I’m not -partial to rats, but I’m still less partial to strangers, who may be -up to all kinds of tricks for all that I can tell, roaming about my -house while I’m wrapped in the arms of Morpheus, so if anyone’s going -to roam I should like to make their acquaintance before they’re -starting.” -</p> - -<p> -There was something callous in her demeanour, a sort of bravado, which -made me momentarily more uncomfortable. This was quite a new Pollie to -me. She spoke as if we were enjoying ourselves, with an apparently -entire unconsciousness of the frightful situation we actually were in. -I was positively beginning to be afraid of her. -</p> - -<p> -“Do let us go upstairs to the bedroom, Pollie, and lock ourselves in -till the morning comes.” -</p> - -<p> -She glanced at her watch. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s morning now; the midnight chimes have sounded long ago. Would -you like to have your throat cut in the silence of the night?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie!” -</p> - -<p> -“It wouldn’t be nice to wake up and find it slit from ear to ear, -would it? So don’t be a goose. There’s a door locked downstairs and -another up. Before I rest I’m going to do my best to find out why -those two rooms are not open to me, their rightful owner. If it’s -because they harbour cut-throats, it’s just as well that we should -know as soon as we conveniently can. So I’m off on a voyage of -discovery. You can go to bed if you like.” -</p> - -<p> -Of course I went with her. It was a choice of two evils—frightful -evils—but, under the circumstances, nothing would have induced me to -go to bed by myself. I would far rather have had my throat cut with -her than be eaten by rats alone. She began to hunt about the room. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m looking for some useful little trifle which might come in handy -in breaking down a solidly-constructed door or two. Here’s a poker, -heavy make—there’s some smashing capacity in that; a pair of tongs; a -fender—there’s a business end to a fender; furniture—I have heard of -chairs being used as battering-rams before to-day. My mother used to -tell of how once, when his landlady locked him out because he wouldn’t -pay the rent of his rooms, my Uncle Benjamin burst his way into the -house with the aid of a chair, snatched off a passing cart which was -laden with somebody else’s goods, so I can’t see how he could object -to my trying the same kind of thing in the house which was once his -own. But I won’t—not yet. To begin with I’ll give the poker a trial, -and you might take the tongs.” -</p> - -<p> -I took the tongs, though the only thing against which I should be -likely to use them would be rats, even if I ventured to touch them. -Indeed, the mere idea of squelching a wriggling, writhing, squeaking -rat between a pair of tongs made an icy shiver go all down my spine. -Pollie whirled the poker round her head with a regular whoop. What had -come to her I could not imagine. Her eyes flamed; her cheeks were -flushed; she was transformed. I verily believe that if half-a-dozen -men had rushed in at the door that very second, she would have flown -at them with a shriek of triumph. I had always known that one of her -worst faults was a fondness for what she called “a bit of a -scrimmage,” and that in an argument very few people got the better of -her; but I had never dreamed that she would go so far as she was going -then. She seemed as if she were perfectly burning for someone to -attack her. -</p> - -<p> -Down the staircase she went, brandishing the poker over her head. I -could not keep so close to her as I should have liked for fear of it. -She stamped so as she descended that near the bottom she put her foot -clean through one of the steps. No doubt the wood was rotten, but -still she need not have insisted on treading as heavily as she -possibly could. And as soon as she reached the passage, without giving -me an opportunity to say a word, she dashed at the door of the room, -which was locked, and hit it with all her might with the end of the -poker. I expected to see her go right through it, but, instead of -that, she gave a sort of groan, and down fell the poker with a clatter -to the floor. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, what is the matter? What have you done?” -</p> - -<p> -The expression of her countenance had changed all in an instant. A -startled look, a look almost of pain, had come upon her features. She -was rubbing her arms and feeling her shoulder-blades. -</p> - -<p> -“More than I intended. If you had exerted all your strength to drive a -poker through what seemed a panel of ordinary wood, and discovered -that it was sheet iron instead, you’d find that you’d done more than -you intended—it sort of jars.” -</p> - -<p> -She picked up the poker again, and tapped it, much more gingerly, -against the door. It gave forth a metallic ring. -</p> - -<p> -“Iron, real iron! Not a shadow of a doubt of it. Pity I was not aware -of the fact before I dislocated both my arms. Inside there! Do you -hear me calling? If anyone is inside there, perhaps you’ll be so good -as to let me know. I’m Pollie! Pollie Blyth!” -</p> - -<p> -Not a sound came from within, for which, personally, I was grateful. -She hammered and hammered, but not the slightest notice was taken of -the noise she made, except by the rats, who sounded to me as if they -had gone stark mad. What we should have done if anyone had replied to -her summons from within is more than I can tell. We certainly should -have been no better off than before. We never could have got at them. -Pollie tried all she could to get that door to open, without, so far -as we could judge, producing the least impression of any sort or kind. -She thought of forcing the lock, but when she endeavoured to insert -the end of the poker into the keyhole, it turned out that it was such -a tiny one that nothing very much thicker than a hatpin could be -induced to enter. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s a mystery behind that door. Mark my words, Emily Purvis! It -may take the form of decaying corpses, with their brains dashed out, -and their throats all cut, and their bones all broken, in which case -they’ll haunt us while we slumber, pointing at us spectral fingers as -we lie on our unquiet beds——” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie!” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the matter, my dear? They’ll be quite as cheerful anyhow as -rats, and they won’t take bites at us. At least, it’s to be hoped they -won’t. Ugh! Fancy murdered spectres making their teeth meet in your -flesh!” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, if you talk like that I shall be ill; I know I shall. It -isn’t fair of you. I wish you wouldn’t. Don’t!” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, my love, I won’t. I’ve only this remark to make—if the -mystery doesn’t take that form, it takes another, and probably a worse -one. And let me tell you this. My Uncle Benjamin was a curiosity while -he lived—my mother used to say that there never was such a devil’s -limb as he was, and she was his only sister, and disposed to look upon -his eccentricities—and they were eccentricities—with a lenient eye; -and it’s my belief that he was quite as big a curiosity when he died. -There were spots in his eventful life—uncommonly queer ones—which he -would not wish revealed to the public eye. Unless I’m wrong, some of -them are inside there; we’re almost standing in their presence now, -and I wish that we were quite.” -</p> - -<p> -She rattled the poker against the panels as a kind of parting salute. -I had rather she had not. Every time she made a noise—and she kept on -making one—it set my nerves all tingling. What with the things she -said, and the way that she went on, and everything altogether, I was -getting into such a state that I was beginning to hardly know whether -I was standing on my head or heels. As for Pollie, she seemed in the -highest possible spirits. It was incomprehensible to me how she dared. -And the way she kept on talking! -</p> - -<p> -“Before I’m very much older I will get the other side of you, or I’ll -know the reason why; the idea of not being allowed the free run of my -own premises is a trifle more than I can stand. If I have to blow you -down, I’ll get you open.” -</p> - -<p> -Bang, bang, she went at it again. -</p> - -<p> -“It sounds hollow, doesn’t it? Perhaps that’s meant by way of a -suggestion, and is intended to let us understand that it’s only a -hollow mystery after all. Well, we shall see—and you shall see too, -if you have curiosity enough.” -</p> - -<p> -I doubted if I had. I certainly had not just then. I wished, with all -my heart, that she would come away from the horrid door, which -presently she did, though not at all in the spirit I should have -preferred, nor with the intentions I desired. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s a second Bluebeard’s chamber upstairs. I may have better luck -with that; perhaps it’s not guarded with sheet iron. Uncle Benjamin -must have spent a fortune at the ironmonger’s if it is, which fortune -should have been mine. We’ll go and see.” -</p> - -<p> -I endeavoured to expostulate. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, let’s leave it till to-morrow. What’s the use of making any -more fuss to-night. I’m dying for want of sleep.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are you?” She looked at me with what struck me as being suspicious -eyes; though what there was to be suspicious about is more than I can -pretend to say. “But don’t you see, my dear, that if you were to have -that sleep for which you’re dying, before you wake from it you may be -dead. That second Bluebeard’s chamber is next our bedroom. Suppose -someone were to come out of it, while we were sunk in innocent repose, -and——” She drew her thumb across her throat with a gesture which -made me shudder. “That wouldn’t be nice, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, if you keep on talking like that I’ll walk straight out of -the house, I don’t care what time of the night it is, and whether -you’ll come with me or whether you won’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“I shouldn’t if I were you. It would seem so irregular for a young -lady to be taking her solitary walks abroad during the small hours, -don’t you know. Now up you go—up those stairs. We’ll continue this -conversation at the top. You vowed to be my companion to the death, -and my companion to the death you’re going to be.” -</p> - -<p> -I had never done anything of the kind, as she was perfectly well -aware. But she did not give me a chance to contradict her. She bundled -me up the staircase as if I were a child, with such impetuosity that I -was breathless when we reached the landing. She was laughing. We might -have been enjoying a romp. As if that were the place or season for -anything of the sort! -</p> - -<p> -“I trod upon a rat. Did you hear it squeal? I think it was its tail. I -believe the little beast turned and flew at me, it felt as if it did. -I hope I scrunched its silly little tail. What is one rat’s tail among -so many? Now for Bluebeard’s Chamber No. 2. This time we’ll beware of -iron.” -</p> - -<p> -She made a preliminary sounding, luckily for her. Even a slight tap -with the poker produced the ring of metal. -</p> - -<p> -“Iron again, so that’s all right. Now what shall we do? Shall we -confess ourselves baffled after all, and leave a formal attack until -the morning, or shall we try the effect of a little more poker -smashing? What ho, within! Is anyone inside there, living or dead? If -so, would you be so very obliging as to just step forth, and let us -see what kind of gentleman you are.” -</p> - -<p> -There was no response, thank goodness. I took her by the arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, do let’s leave it to the morning, and do let’s go to bed!” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ll go to bed!” -</p> - -<p> -We went; at least we went into the bedroom. I did not feel much -happier when we were there. To begin with, after the way in which she -had been talking, my first thought was to do as much as possible to -keep anyone out who might try to enter. But there was no key in the -lock, the handle was loose, the hasp a bad one, so that the door would -not even keep closed without our propping something up against it. I -wanted Pollie to help me pile up a sort of barricade, consisting of -chairs, the washhand stand, chest of drawers, and everything, as I had -read of people doing in books. She only laughed at me. -</p> - -<p> -“What good will it do? Who do you suppose it will keep out? Spectres? -My dear, spectres will walk through stone walls. They pay no heed to -trivial obstacles. Creatures of flesh and blood? You may take my word -for it that if there are any of that sort alive and kicking in this -house to-night, and they mean to come in here, they’ll come in just -when and how they choose, and they’ll treat your ingenious barricade -as if it wasn’t there.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you really think that there’s anyone in the house beside -ourselves?” -</p> - -<p> -She shrugged her shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you what I do think, that if I’d known as much before as I do -now, I’d have treated myself to a revolver, and you should have had -one too.” -</p> - -<p> -“A revolver! Whatever should I have done with a revolver?” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t say what you’d have done. I know what I’d have tried to do. I -only wish that I had something loaded handy at this moment, there’s -more persuasive power in bullets than in your barricade, my dear. If -the worst does come to the worst, and we have to protect ourselves -against goodness alone knows what, if I could only have had my grip -upon a pistol I don’t fancy that all the scoring would have been upon -the other side.” -</p> - -<p> -Whether she talked like that simply to make my hair stand up on end, -or whether she was really in earnest, was more than I was able to -determine. But as I looked at her I felt a curious something creep all -over me. There was an expression on her face, a smile on her lips, a -light in her eyes, which made me think of her Uncle Benjamin, to whose -peculiarities we owed our presence there, and wonder if not only his -blood, but something of his spirit too, was in her veins. I was -persuaded that she perceived something actually agreeable in a -situation in which I saw nothing but horror. And it was I who had -supposed myself to be romantic! -</p> - -<p> -She began to bustle about the room. -</p> - -<p> -“I thought you were dying for want of sleep. Aren’t you going to get -between the sheets? There is a bed, and there are sheets, though I -should hardly like to swear that they have been washed since someone -slept between them last. When are you going to begin to undress?” -</p> - -<p> -“Undress? Do you imagine that I intend to remove so much as a stitch -of clothing while I remain beneath this roof?” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you propose to sleep in your boots then?” -</p> - -<p> -“If I am to sleep at all, and I am more than half disposed to hope -that sleep may not visit my eyelids till I am out of this dreadful -place, I propose to do so in what I stand up in. Pollie, have you ever -heard of people’s hair turning white in the course of a single night? -I shouldn’t be at all surprised if mine did. It feels as if it were -changing colour now.” -</p> - -<p> -She stared as if she could not make me out. I wondered if she was -noting the transformation which was taking place in my hair; if it had -already become so obvious. Then she broke into peal after peal of -laughter. The tears started to my eyes. Just as I was about to really -cry there came a crash which shook the house. -</p> - -<p> -It sounded as if someone had opened a door in the passage and shut it -with a bang. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch13"> -CHAPTER XIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A VISION OF THE NIGHT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">In</span> a second Pollie was across the room, through the door, and on the -landing. Before I could stop her she was tearing down the stairs, -crying, -</p> - -<p> -“Now we’ll see who that is?” -</p> - -<p> -I was in a dreadful position, not wanting to descend and be murdered -as a result of seeing “who that is,” nor daring to remain behind -alone. I did not even venture to call out and try to stay her, not -knowing who might hear my voice below. She had gone off with our only -piece of candle and left me in the dark. All I could do was to steal -after her as quickly as possible, keeping as close to her as I was -able. Pollie was at the bottom almost before I started; she had gone -down with a hop, skip, and a jump; I had to struggle with the darkness -and the rats. Leaning over what was left of the banisters I could see -the gleam of her candle in the passage. I expected to hear her shriek, -and sounds of a struggle. The candle flickered, as if she were moving -here and there in an endeavour to discover the cause of the commotion. -Presently her voice came up to me. -</p> - -<p> -“Emily!” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes?” -</p> - -<p> -I spoke in a much lower tone than she had done. -</p> - -<p> -“No one’s murdered, unless it’s you up there. In case you’re not, you -might come down.” -</p> - -<p> -I went. She appeared disgusted, rather than otherwise, that she had -not been murdered. She was stamping up and down the passage, banging -at the closed door with her clenched fist, peering into the kitchen, -making as much disturbance as was in her power. -</p> - -<p> -“The only thing alive, barring rats, seems to be blackbeetles. We must -have slaughtered thousands when we came in. The kitchen’s black with -them. Come and look.” I declined. “But they can hardly have opened -that door and shut it with a bang. There’s no evidence to show which -door it was, but I believe it was one which leads into Bluebeard’s -chamber.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie! How can you tell?” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t tell, but I can believe. Can’t I believe, my dear? I shall, -anyhow. It is my belief”—she spoke with an emphasis which was meant -for me—“that the mystery it conceals peeped out, then, fearing -discovery, popped back again. It was its hurry to pop back which -caused the bang. I wonder, by the way, if it was anyone who made a -bolt into the street.” -</p> - -<p> -She tried to open the front door, against my wish, and failed. We had -opened it from within easily enough before, when we had gone out to -interview her Tom; but now it appeared to be as hermetically sealed as -the door leading into what she called “Bluebeard’s Chamber.” It was no -use reasoning with her. So soon as she found that it would not open -she made up her mind that it should. For a quarter of an hour or -twenty minutes she tried everything she could to force it. In vain. By -the time we returned to the bedroom she was not in the best of -tempers. And I had resolved that nothing should induce me to stay any -longer alone with her beneath that roof than I could possibly help. -</p> - -<p> -We had something like a quarrel. She said some very cruel things to -me, and, when I told her she was unkind, and that there were aspects -in which she reminded me of her Uncle Benjamin, she said crueller -things still. I announced my intention to spend the night—what was -left of it—upon a chair. She flung herself upon the bed and laughed. -</p> - -<p> -Never shall I forget the remainder of that night, not if I live to be -as old as Methuselah. To begin with, that chair was horribly -uncomfortable, to speak of physical discomfort only. It was a small, -very slippery, wooden Windsor chair; every time I tried to get into an -easy position I began to slip off. I wondered more and more how I -could ever have been so Quixotic as to have volunteered to become -Pollie Blyth’s companion. For one thing I had never suspected that she -could have been so callous, so careless of the feelings of others, so -indifferent to what they suffered on her behalf. Although I was tired -out and out I could see that there would be no sleep for me, and no -rest either, while I continued where I was. So far as I could judge, -so soon as she threw herself upon the bed Pollie was asleep. -</p> - -<p> -It was with quite a sense of shock I realised that this was the case. -It seemed so selfish. The feeling of solitude it conveyed was -frightful. I could hear her gentle breathing coming from the bed; I -myself hardly dared to breathe at all. Half an inch of candle was -guttering on the mantelpiece. By its light I could see that she lay on -her left side, looking towards the wall, and that she did not appear -to have moved since she had first lain down. I called to her: -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie! Pollie! Pollie!” uttering each repetition of her name a -little louder. -</p> - -<p> -My voice seemed to ring out with such uncanny clearness I did not -venture to really raise it. In consequence my modest tones did not -serve to rouse her from her childlike slumber. So sound was her sleep -that, all at once, the noise of her breathing ceased. It faded away. -She was still, strangely still. So still that in the overwrought -condition of my nerves I began to wonder if she was dead. I wished -that she would move, do anything, to show she was alive. I tried, once -more, to call upon her name. But, this time, my throat was parched; it -came as an inarticulate murmur from between my tremulous lips. -</p> - -<p> -I would have given much to have got up and shaken her back to life, -and me. But it was as though I was glued to the seat, and that -although I was continually slipping off. My body was stiff, my limbs -cramped; it was only with an effort I could move them; of that effort -I was not capable. I was conscious that I was passing into a waking -nightmare. I closed my eyes because I was afraid to keep them open; -then opened them again because I was still more afraid to keep them -shut. -</p> - -<p> -The house was full of noises. Pollie had not shut the door. It was -ajar perhaps an inch or two. I wanted to put a chair in front, to shut -it close. Apart, however, from my incapacity to move, I was oppressed -by an uncomfortable fancy that someone, something, was peering through -the interstice. This fancy became, by rapid degrees, a certainty. That -I was overlooked I was sure. By whom, by what, I did not dare to -think. How I knew I could not have told. I did know. -</p> - -<p> -My eyes were fixed upon the door. For a moment, now and then, I moved -them, with a flicker, to the right or to the left. Only for a moment. -Back they went to the door. Once I saw it tremble. I started. It was -motionless again. Then I heard a pattering. The rats were audible -everywhere—under the floor at my feet, in the walls about me, above -the ceiling over my head. The house was full of their clamour. But the -pattering I heard was distinct from all the other sounds. It -approached the room from without, pausing over the threshold as if in -doubt. The door gave a little jerk, ever such a little one, but I saw -it. A rat came in. -</p> - -<p> -So it was a rat after all. -</p> - -<p> -It stopped, just inside the door, peering round, as if surprised at -the illumination which the candle gave. As if satisfied by what it saw -it came in a little further. Close behind it was a second. This was of -a more impatient breed; as soon as it appeared, with a little spring -it ranged itself beside the other. Immediately there came two more. -The four indulged themselves with a feast of observation, as though -they were smelling out the land. After a while their eyes seemed to -concentrate themselves on me, as if they could not make me out. -Perhaps they thought that I was dead, or sleeping. I did not move, -because I could not. -</p> - -<p> -On a sudden the four gave a little forward scamper, as if they had -been hustled from behind. The door was opened another half-dozen -inches. More than a score came in. All at once I became conscious that -rats were peeping at me from all about the room; out of holes and -crannies of whose existence I had not been aware; above, below, on -every side. And I knew that an army waited on the landing, as if -waiting for a signal to make a rush. On whom? On me? Or on Pollie, -asleep upon the bed? I was paralysed. I wanted to shriek and warn -Pollie of what was coming; to let her know that in a second’s time the -room would be a pandemonium of rats, all of them in search of food. My -tongue was tied. I could not speak. I could only wait and watch. -</p> - -<p> -The house was not yet still. Not all had gathered without the door, -many were observing me, with teeth sharp set, from hidden cavities. -There was continually the clamour of their scurrying to and fro. But -some instinct told me that their numbers increased upon the landing. I -could hear their squeals, as if they snapped at each other in the -press. Another score had harried the first score farther forward. They -were so close that where they stood they hid the floor. It seemed so -strange to see so many, all with their eyes on me. Yet what were they -to those who were without? Something told me that those who watched me -in the room had come further out of their holes! that in another -instant they would spring down; and that then the rush would come. I -think that my heart had nearly ceased to beat; that the blood had -turned to water in my veins. I was cold; a chill sweat was on my face. -The hand of death had come quite close. -</p> - -<p> -I but waited for its actual touch; for whose approach the rushing of -the rats should be the signal; when—what was it fell upon my ear? -What sound, coming from below? Not rats? No, not rats. Mechanically I -drew breath; I verily believe it was the first time I had breathed for -I know not how long. The inflation of my lungs roused me. I listened -with keener ears. I knew that what I had heard the rats had also -heard; that it was because of it that the rush had not begun; that -they attended what was next to come with a sense of expectancy; of -doubt; of hesitation. -</p> - -<p> -Moments passed; the sound was not repeated. Had it been a trick of our -imagination; mine and the rats’? All was still, even the scurrying of -their friends below. If I heard nothing, they did; they retreated. -There were fewer within the room; I had not noticed their going, but -they had gone. I felt that their unseen comrades, who were about me, -had drawn back again into their holes. What was it caused that noise? -There was a board that creaked. No rat’s foot had caused that. Again. -Was that a step upon the stairs? -</p> - -<p> -Someone, something, was ascending from below? Who—what—could it be? -An inmate of the Bluebeard’s Chamber? What shape of horror would it -take? Why did Pollie sleep so soundly? In my awful helplessness -inwardly I raged. The rats heard; already they were flying for their -lives. Why did she not hear? Would nothing rouse her from her -slumbers? Danger, the danger she had herself foretold, was stealing on -us. She had boasted of her courage. Why did she not come out of sleep -to prove she was no braggart? What was it bound my limbs with chains, -and kept me from stretching out my arm to touch her where she lay? -What was the choking in my throat, so that when I tried to speak I -seemed to strangle? -</p> - -<p> -Silence again. This seemed to be a jest that someone played: the -sound, then silence; still silence, long drawn out, then again the -sound. If something came, why did it not come quickly? I should not be -so fearful of a thing I saw as of a thing that I did not; I could not -be. -</p> - -<p> -The steps had reached the staircase which led directly to our room. -There were fewer intervals of silence; though, yet, between each, -there was a pause, as if to listen. They were very soft; as if someone -walked velvet footed, being most unwilling to be heard. If I had -sprung to my feet, roused Pollie, rushed to the door, defying all -comers to come on, I wondered what would happen; and should have -dearly liked to see. -</p> - -<p> -But I was a craven through and through. -</p> - -<p> -The footsteps gained the landing: moved towards the door; stayed -without, while their owner listened. It might have been my fancy, but, -so acutely was I listening, that I could have declared that I heard a -hand placed gently against the panel. An interval. Pollie remained -quiet on the bed. She had not moved since first she had lain down. -What kind of sleep was this of hers? Did no warning come to her in -dreams to tell her that there was something strange without? It was -not fair that she should be so utterly at peace, while I had to bear -the burden all alone. She was stronger than I. Why did she not wake -up? -</p> - -<p> -The door came a little forward; perhaps another half-dozen inches. -Again a pause; as if to ascertain if the movement had been observed. -Whoever was without was cautious. Then—— -</p> - -<p> -Then something appeared at the opening. -</p> - -<p> -What I had expected to see I could not for the life of me have told. -Some shape of horror, some monster born of the terror I was in; a -diseased imagining of my mental, moral, physical paralysis; a -creature, neither human nor inhuman, but wholly horrible, which should -come stealing, resistless, in, to force me, in my agony, to welcome -death. -</p> - -<p> -What it was I actually saw, at first, I could not tell. It was not -what I expected; that I knew. Something more commonplace; yet, -considering the hour and the place, almost as strange. -</p> - -<p> -When the mist had cleared from before my vision, I perceived it was a -face. What kind of face even yet I could not see; the shock of the -unexpected added to my confusion. It was only after it had remained -quiescent for perhaps the better part of a minute that I realised it -was a woman’s. -</p> - -<p> -A woman’s face! -</p> - -<p> -But not like any woman’s face that I had seen before. As I gazed my -fear began to fade; a sense of wonder came instead. Was I asleep or -waking? I asked myself the question. Were these things happening to me -in a dream? Glancing at me through the partly open door was the kind -of face one reads and dreams about; not the kind one meets in daily -life. At least, in the daily life which I have led. I was vaguely -conscious that it was beautiful; beautiful in so strange a sort; but -most clearly present to my mind was the bewildering fact that it had a -more wonderful pair of eyes than any I had supposed a woman could have -had. It was not only that they were large, nor that they were lovely. -They had in them so odd a lustre. It was as though some living thing -were in them, which kept coming and going, breaking into light, fading -into darkness. They were wild eyes; such as no Englishwoman ever could -have had. This face was brown. -</p> - -<p> -For at any rate some minutes it stayed motionless, watching me. Only -by degrees did it dawn upon me that possibly its owner was nearly as -much startled as I was; that whatever she had anticipated seeing she -had not expected to find me sitting on that chair. She kept her glance -fixed upon my features; only for a second did it wander towards Pollie -sleeping on the bed. I fancy she was endeavouring to determine what it -was that I was doing there; why I was on the chair instead of on the -bed; whether I was asleep or waking, or even dead. I was so huddled up -upon the chair, and remained so very still, that it was quite possible -for her, taken unawares, to suppose that I was dead. -</p> - -<p> -“You sleep?” -</p> - -<p> -She spoke to me; in English, which had a quaintly foreign sound; in a -bell-like whisper, it was so soft and yet so clear. -</p> - -<p> -I did not answer; the knot in my tongue had not yet come untied. I -felt that she did not understand my silence, or the cause of it; and -wondered, hesitated too. Presently she ventured on an assertion, -uttered with a little cadence of doubt, as if it were a question. -</p> - -<p> -“You do not sleep.” Apparently as if still in doubt as to the -correctness of the statement, she endeavoured to fortify herself with -reasons. “Your eyes are open; you do not sleep. We do not sleep when -our eyes are open. Speak to me. Are you afraid?” -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps the suspicion increased in strength that, if I was not -stupefied with fear, there was at least something curious in my -condition. She opened the door nearly to the full, and she came into -the room. I saw that she seemed but a girl, tall above the common, -clad in a gown which, while it was loose and seemingly shapeless, and -made in a fashion which was altogether strange to me, yet draped -itself in graceful folds about her figure. It was made of some stuff -which looked to me like silk alpaca; in colour a most assertive, and -indeed trying, shade of electric blue. It positively warmed one’s eyes -to look at it. And it was covered with what looked more like sequins -than anything else I could think of; though, with every movement of -her body, they gleamed and glittered like no sequins I had ever seen -before. Her hair, of which there was an extraordinary quantity, as -black as jet, was most beautifully done. Even in my condition of -semi-stupor I wondered how she did it. It formed a perfect halo about -her face. And on the top was stuck what seemed to be the very double -of that queer little thing which Pollie said she found in the scrap of -paper which the man had given her. Only, to me, the creature in her -hair seemed alive. Its eyes gleamed; its body inclined this way then -that, as she stood in the open doorway. -</p> - -<p> -She was covered with jewels; at least, I suppose they were jewels. -Though, regarded as ornaments, they were as queer as everything else -about her. Her fingers were loaded with rings; funny looking ones they -seemed. She stood, bending slightly forward, with her hands in front, -so that I could not help but notice them. Bracelets were twined about -her arms; of the oddest design. A jewelled snake was about her throat. -Another, not only a monster, but a monstrosity, was twisted, girdle -fashion, three or four times around her waist. It looked as if it were -alive. -</p> - -<p> -When, having, apparently, sufficiently considered the situation, she -began to advance towards me, to my amazement and abject horror this -creature was set in motion too. It stretched out its evil-looking head -in my direction, with an ugly glitter in its eyes; it opened its jaws; -its fangs shot out. As they seemed to be extending themselves as far -as possible, in order to reach my face, thank God, the guttering -half-inch of candle went out upon the mantelpiece. With it my senses -seemed to go out too. As they were leaving me I was conscious of the -unpleasant odour of a smouldering wick. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch14"> -CHAPTER XIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">SUSIE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I was</span> lying on the floor. There was a light in the room. A woman was -bending over me; the woman with the snake about the waist. The memory -of it recurring with a sudden sense of shock, I started up. -</p> - -<p> -“Where is it?” -</p> - -<p> -She looked as if she did not understand. -</p> - -<p> -“Where is what?” -</p> - -<p> -“The snake.” -</p> - -<p> -She smiled; why, I do not know. -</p> - -<p> -“The snake? Oh, it is gone.” -</p> - -<p> -Apparently it had. In its place was a plain broad band of what seemed -gold. I wondered if it was gold. If so, it was worth a great deal. -Still wondering, I sank back upon the floor. I saw that beside me was -a queer-shaped lamp, which also seemed to be of gold. It was fashioned -something like a covered butter-boat, with a handle, the flame coming -from the lip. I felt drowsy; the hair seemed to be heavy with perfume; -one which was new to me, having a pleasantly soothing effect upon -one’s nerves. Had it not been for the strangeness of my position I -believe that I should then and there have fallen asleep. Turning, I -stared at the stranger, who, kneeling on my left, regarded me in turn. -Silence; which she broke. -</p> - -<p> -“Are many Englishwomen as beautiful as you?” -</p> - -<p> -I was thinking, lazily, how beautiful she was. The appositeness of the -question took me aback; it startled some of the heaviness from my -eyelids. I did not know what to reply. My hesitation did not please -her. A sudden gleam came into her eyes; as if the wild creature which -inhabited them had all at once come to the front. -</p> - -<p> -“Why do you not answer? I am used to being answered. Are many -Englishwomen as beautiful as you?” -</p> - -<p> -“They are much more beautiful. I am not beautiful at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are beautiful. You are a liar.” -</p> - -<p> -The plain directness of her speech brought the blood into my cheeks. -She marked my change of colour, as if surprised. -</p> - -<p> -“How do you do that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Do what?” -</p> - -<p> -My tone was meek as meek could be. -</p> - -<p> -“You have gone red.” I went still redder. “How do you do it? Is it a -trick? It becomes you very well; it makes you still more beautiful. Is -it the blood shining through your skin? You are so white, the least -thing shows. To be white I would give all that I am, all that I have.” -</p> - -<p> -She uttered the last words with a simple earnestness which, if she had -only known it, became her much more than my blush did me. I ventured -on an inquiry. -</p> - -<p> -“Who are you?” -</p> - -<p> -She knelt straight up. There came to her an air of dignity which lent -to her a weird and thrilling fascination. -</p> - -<p> -“I am she who inhabits the inner sanctuary of the temple; to whom all -men and women bring their supplications, that I may lay them at the -feet of the Most High Joss.” -</p> - -<p> -I had not the faintest notion what she meant; but her words and manner -impressed me none the less on that account. Which fact she observing -was good enough not to allow it to displease her. She went on, with -the same quaint, yet awe-inspiring simplicity. -</p> - -<p> -“I am she who holds joy and sorrow in the hollow of my hand; ay, life -and death. When I lift it the prayers of the faithful may hope for -answer; when I do not lift it, their petitions are offered up in vain, -for the Great Joss is sleeping; and, when he sleeps, he attends to no -one’s prayers.” -</p> - -<p> -She stopped. I should have liked her to have gone on; or, at least, to -have been a trifle more explicit. But, possibly, she was under the -impression that she had vouchsafed sufficient information, and, in -exchange, would like a little out of me. She put a point blank -question. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you Miss Mary Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -I motioned with my hand towards the bed. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s Pollie. She’s asleep.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie? Who is Pollie? I ask, are you Miss Mary Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -“That is Mary Blyth upon the bed. I’m a friend of hers, so I call her -Pollie. She’s known to all her friends as Pollie.” -</p> - -<p> -She considered, knitting her brows. I half expected her to again -roundly call me liar; but, instead, she asked a question, the meaning -of which I scarcely grasped. -</p> - -<p> -“Is Susie a name by which one is known unto one’s friends?” -</p> - -<p> -“Susie? Isn’t that the pet name for Susan?” -</p> - -<p> -For some reason my answer seemed to afford her a singular amount of -pleasure. She broke into a soft ripple of laughter; for sheer music I -had never heard anything like it before. The sound was so infectious -that it actually nearly made me smile—even then! She put her hands -before her face, in the enjoyment of some joke which was altogether -beyond my comprehension; then, holding out her arms, extended them on -either side of her as wide as she possibly could. -</p> - -<p> -“It is a pet name; Susie, a pet name! It is the pet name by which one -is known to one’s—friends!” -</p> - -<p> -There was a slight pause before “friends”; as if she hesitated whether -or not to substitute another word. I should have liked to have -inquired what the jest was, but there was something in her bearing -which suggested that it was so personal to herself that I did not -dare. When she had got out of it what perhaps occurred to her as being -sufficient enjoyment, quitting the kneeling posture which she had -occupied till then, she rose to her feet and went to the bed. -</p> - -<p> -By now I was wide awake, my perceptions were well on the alert. The -sense of terror which had so nearly brought me to a condition of -paralysis had grown considerably less. I do not pretend that fear had -altogether vanished, nor that with but a little provocation it would -not have returned with all its former force. But, for the moment, -certainly, curiosity was to the front. My chief anxiety was not to -allow one of my mysterious visitor’s movements, no matter how -insignificant, to escape my notice. I observed with what suppleness -she rose to her feet; how, in the noiseless way in which she passed to -the bed, there was something which reminded me of wild animals I had -seen at the Zoological Gardens. When she bent over the sleeping Pollie -there was something in her pose which recalled them again. For some -seconds she was still; I had a peculiar feeling, as I watched her from -behind, that with those extraordinary eyes of hers she was scorching -the sleeper’s countenance. -</p> - -<p> -“She is not beautiful. No, she is not beautiful, like you. But there -is that in her face which reminds me of another I have seen. She is -clever, strong bodied, strong willed, she knows no fear. When she is -brought face to face with fear she laughs at it. She sleeps sound. It -is like her to sleep sound when no one else could sleep at all.” -Although I could not see the speaker’s face I knew she smiled. “It is -funny it should have been given to her. She will never do as she is -told; it is because she is told that she will never do it. Obedience -is not for her, it is for those with whom she lives to obey.” She -glanced round. “It is for you.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a sting in the little air of malice with which it was said, -although the thing was true. It nettled me to think how soon she had -found me out. She returned to Pollie without deigning to notice how -her words had been received. -</p> - -<p> -“Let her sleep on. So sound a sleep should know no sudden waking.” -Again there was malice in her tone. She passed her hand two or three -times in front of Pollie’s face. “Now she’ll have no evil dreams. It -is funny it should have been given to her; very funny. It should have -been given to you; you are different. But it is like that: things -happen; the world is crooked.” -</p> - -<p> -She had returned towards me. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you a lover?” -</p> - -<p> -Her trick of asking the most delicate questions in the abruptest and -baldest fashion I found more than a little disconcerting. Although I -tried to keep it back, again the blood flamed to my cheeks, all the -more because I half expected to have her repeat her enquiry as to how -I got it there. For some ridiculous reason I thought of Mr. Frank -Paine. It was too absurd. Of course I had only seen him once, and then -I had scarcely looked at him, although I could not help noticing that, -though he had not bad eyes, in other respects he was positively ugly, -and most stilted in his manners. I might never see the man again, -probably never should. I was sure I did not want to. And, anyhow, he -was absolutely nothing to me, nor, under any possible circumstances, -ever could be. It made me wild to think that I should think of him, -especially when I was asked such a question as that. -</p> - -<p> -“No,” I stammered. -</p> - -<p> -“No? That is strange. Since you are so beautiful.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not beautiful. Why do you say that I am beautiful?” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it possible that you do not know that you are beautiful? You must -be very silly. I knew all about myself long before I was as old as -you. You have the kind of face which, when a man sees, he desires; you -also have the shape. You are not like her.” She jerked her shoulder -towards the bed. “You are a woman; and a fool.” -</p> - -<p> -I did not like the way she spoke to me at all. She might be a walking -mystery—and she certainly was—but that was no reason why she should -be impertinent as well. -</p> - -<p> -“Why do you say such things to me? Is a woman of necessity a fool?” -</p> - -<p> -“If she is wise she is. It is a fool that a man desires; if she is a -fool she will rule him when he has her. The greater fool is governed -by the lesser.” -</p> - -<p> -She had a most astonishing way of talking. Considering her age, and, -in years, I felt convinced that she was the merest slip of a girl, she -professed to have a knowledge of the world which was amazing. I did -not know what to say; not being used to carry on a conversation on the -lines which she seemed to favour. So she asked another question, with -another jerk of her shoulder towards the bed. -</p> - -<p> -“Has she a lover?” -</p> - -<p> -“She has.” -</p> - -<p> -“No! That is stranger still! A real lover? What sort of a man is he?” -</p> - -<p> -“He’s not a bad sort.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bad sort? What is that? Is he rich?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rich!” I smiled at the idea of Tom Cooper being rich. “He is very far -from being rich, unfortunately for him, and for Pollie too. He is an -assistant in a shop.” -</p> - -<p> -“A shop? What kind of shop?” -</p> - -<p> -“A draper’s.” -</p> - -<p> -“A draper’s? Isn’t that where they sell things for women to wear? What -kind of a man is he who is in a shop in which they sell things for -women to cover their bodies? Is it his life which he lives there? But, -after all, that is the kind of lover one would have supposed she would -have had. It is he who must obey.” I felt that she was hard on Pollie, -and on Mr. Cooper. It seemed to be her way to be hard on everyone. -“But you—why have you no lover?” -</p> - -<p> -I really did not know what to answer. It was such a difficult -question, to say nothing of its delicacy. Of course I had had lovers, -of a sort. One need not give a list, but there had been incidents. At -the same time it was not easy to enter into particulars, at a moment’s -notice, to a perfect stranger, under such conditions as obtained just -then. -</p> - -<p> -“I hardly know what to say to you. I suppose I am not too old to have -one yet.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a silly remark to make. But it was either that or silence. And -she did not seem to like me not to answer her. -</p> - -<p> -“One should have a lover when one is still a little young.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s your idea of a little young? Are you inferring that I’m a -trifle old?” -</p> - -<p> -“The day passes; a lover should come in the morning; when the sun is -just lighting the sky.” -</p> - -<p> -There was an air of superiority about her which I did not altogether -relish. She might be somebody wonderful, and I was quite willing to -admit that she was; but one does not care to be snubbed. So far as I -could see she was snubbing me all the time. So I asked her a question -in my turn. -</p> - -<p> -“You speak as if you had had a great deal of experience. May I ask if -you have a lover?” -</p> - -<p> -“Can you not see it in my eyes?” -</p> - -<p> -I could not. Hers were wonderful eyes, especially when the blaze came -into them as it did as she spoke. But one required remarkable powers -of observation to know that she had a lover merely by looking at her -eyes. I hesitated, however, to say as much; and luckily she went on -without rendering it necessary for me to say anything at all. -</p> - -<p> -“Can you not see it in my face? my smile? the way I breathe? the joy -of life that’s in me? Is it that, although you’re white, you’re -stupid? I thought it was plain to all the world; to another woman most -of all. One morning I woke; I was what I was; he had not come. He came -before the sun set; I was what I am now; there were no shadows that -night for me; the sun has not set since.” -</p> - -<p> -Her language was really a little above my head. Though I confess that -I liked the way in which she spoke. It set my heart all beating. And -her words rang like silver trumpets in my ears. And she looked so -lovely as she stood with her beautiful head thrown a little back, and -her hands held out in front as if her heart was in them. Yet, at the -same time, if she had expressed herself in a somewhat different -manner, I should have gathered more exactly what it was she meant. She -had stopped, as if she thought that it was time for me to speak. So I -blundered. -</p> - -<p> -“Was the gentleman a—a countryman of yours?” -</p> - -<p> -“A countryman of mine? What do you mean by a countryman of mine? How -do you know what my country is?” -</p> - -<p> -I was sorry I had asked the question directly the words had passed my -lips, though I never dreamt that she would take it up in the way she -did. She flew at me in a way which gave me quite a start. The wild -animal which was in her eyes came to the front with a sudden rush, as -if it would spring right out at me. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sure no offence was intended, and I beg your pardon if any has -been given. Because, as you say, I have not the faintest notion what -your country is.” -</p> - -<p> -“England is my country. I am English—all of me!—to there!” -</p> - -<p> -As she put her hands behind her I suppose she meant that she was -English to the backbone. All I could say was that she did not look it, -and she did not sound it either. But not for worlds would I have -mentioned the fact at that moment. She came closer, eyeing me as if -she would have pierced me through and through. -</p> - -<p> -“You think that he is black? You think it? You insult me, the daughter -of the gods, in whose hands are life and death! Shall I tear the heart -out of your body? Shall I kill you? Tell me!—yes or no!” -</p> - -<p> -“No.” -</p> - -<p> -It seemed an unnecessary answer to give, but I felt that I might as -well give expression to my sentiments since she was so insistent. -Though I thought it quite likely that she might at any moment -commence, as she called it, to tear the heart out of my body, while I -waited for the moment to arrive I could not but own that, even in her -rage, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But it seemed -that she decided that, after all, it would be scarcely worth her while -to soil her fingers just for the sake of tearing me to pieces; so she -emptied the vials of her scorn on me instead. -</p> - -<p> -“Bah! You are a fool—of the fools! That is all you are. You know -nothing, not even what you say. Why should I attend to the witless -when they babble? Listen to me—fool!” -</p> - -<p> -She held her finger up close to my nose. I listened with might and -main. She spoke as if she intended to lay emphasis upon her every -word. -</p> - -<p> -“He is English, my lover, of the English; of the flower of the nation. -He is not one who lives in shops which pretend to help ugly women to -hide their ugliness; he is not that kind. His home is the wide world. -He is tall, and brave, and strong; a ruler of men; handsome beyond any -of his fellows.” She made that last statement as if she dared me to -question it by so much as a movement of my eyelids. “Were you but to -see his picture you would faint for love of him.” I wondered. “With -all women it is so. But, beware! Hide yourself when he is coming; if -he but deigns to look on you I’ll tear you into pieces. I suffer no -woman to stand in his presence, save only I.” -</p> - -<p> -Words and manner suggested not only that she was not by any means too -sure of the gentleman’s affection, but, also, that there was a lively -time in store for him. If she wished to be taken literally, and really -did mean that no woman was to be allowed to stand in his presence -except herself, then the sooner she returned to the particular parts -from which, in spite of all that she might say to the contrary, I felt -sure she came, then the pleasanter it would be for everyone concerned. -I should like to see the man in whose presence I was not to be allowed -to stand. -</p> - -<p> -I said nothing when she stopped; I had nothing to say. Or, rather, if -I had been allowed a moment or two to think it over, and been given -time to get back a little of my breath again, I should have had such a -quantity to say that I should have been at a loss as to which end I -had better begin. Nor do I fancy that her temper would have been -improved wherever I had started. -</p> - -<p> -While she was still glaring as if she would like to eat me, her -finger-nails within an inch or two of my face, and I was thinking, in -spite of my natural indignation, not to speak of other things, that -being in a rage positively suited her, for the second time that night, -there came from below what sounded like the opening of a door. On the -instant she stood up straight. She looked more than ever like one of -the beautiful wild creatures at the Zoo; poised so lightly on her -feet, with every sense on the alert, listening as if she did not -intend to allow the dropping of a pin to escape her. Suddenly she -stooped; waved her hands before my face; caught up the lamp from the -floor; vanished from the room. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch15"> -CHAPTER XV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">AN ULTIMATUM.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">What</span> had happened I could not think, nor where I was. It was pitch -dark. I had been roused from sound sleep, as it seemed, by someone -falling over me, who was making vigorous efforts at my expense to -regain a footing. I remonstrated. -</p> - -<p> -“Who is it? what are you doing?” -</p> - -<p> -“Emily!” returned a voice, in accents of unmistakable surprise. -</p> - -<p> -It was Pollie. She was lying right across me, and, with sundry -ejaculations, was using my body as a sort of lever to assist her in -regaining her perpendicular. She was plainly as much astonished to -find that it was me as I was to find it was her. -</p> - -<p> -“You’ve been lying on the floor. Why have you been doing that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because I happen to have been lying on the floor that is no reason -why you should tumble over me.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s good. How was I to see you in the middle of this brilliant -illumination? I called out to you; as you did not answer I was -beginning to be half afraid that the black bogies had swallowed you -up. Have you been there all night?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know.” I wondered myself. “I suppose so.” -</p> - -<p> -Raising myself to a sitting posture I found that I was stiff all over. -I had not been accustomed to quite so hard a mattress. “Have you any -idea what time it is?” -</p> - -<p> -“I wish I had. So far as light is concerned all hours seem the same in -here, but I’ll have that altered before another night comes on. I feel -as if I had slept my sleep right out, so I expect that anyhow it’s -morning.” -</p> - -<p> -Her feelings were not mine. My eyelids were heavy. I felt generally -dull and stupid, unrefreshed. She gave a little exclamation. -</p> - -<p> -“I touched something with my foot. I believe it’s the matches. I -thought I put them in my pocket; if so, they’ve dropped out since; -they’re not there. Well found! It is!” She struck one. “Hallo, where’s -the candle?” -</p> - -<p> -I remembered that the one she had left alight had burned right out. -But there had been others, three or four pieces of varying length. -Every trace of them had vanished. -</p> - -<p> -“Rats,” I suggested. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s it; the little wretches have devoured them, wicks and tallow -and all. When I got off the bed I heard them scurrying in all -directions. Did we leave any ends downstairs?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think so. We brought up all there was to bring.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then that’s real nice. For the present we shall have to live by -matchlight.” As she spoke the one she held went out. “They don’t burn -long; just long enough to scorch the tips of your fingers. Where’s the -door?” She moved towards it by the glimmer of a flickering match. She -tried the handle. “Why, it seems——” There was a pause. “It does -seem——” The match went out, “Emily, it’s locked.” -</p> - -<p> -“Locked!” I echoed the word. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, locked; I said locked, or—something. And it wasn’t anything -last night.” -</p> - -<p> -“No; I don’t believe it was.” -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t believe! Don’t you remember that because there wasn’t a -key, and the hasp wouldn’t catch, you suggested piling up the -furniture to keep it close? What do you mean, then, by saying that you -don’t believe? you know it wasn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; I do know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it’s fastened now.” I could hear her, in the darkness, trying -the handle again. “Sure enough, it’s locked; and, from the feel, it’s -bolted too. Emily, we’re locked in.” -</p> - -<p> -She was silent. I was silent, too, turning things over in my mind. It -seemed, when she spoke again, as if she had been doing the same. -</p> - -<p> -“But—who can have done it? It appears that I was right, that there -was someone in those Bluebeard’s chambers—perhaps in both, for all we -know. If someone could come and lock this door without waking us up, -we ran a good risk of having our throats cut, or worse.” She lit -another match. Apparently my continued silence struck her as peculiar. -“Why don’t you say something—what’s the matter? Don’t you understand -that we’re locked in; prisoners, my dear? Or are you too stupefied -with terror to be able to utter a word?” -</p> - -<p> -She held the match in front of her face. It gleamed on something -white. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s that upon your bodice?” -</p> - -<p> -“My bodice?” She put up her hand. “Why——it’s a piece of -paper——pinned to my bodice! Where on earth——!” Once more the match -went out. “This truly is delightful. Never before did I realise how -much we owe to candles. The thing is pinned as if it had been meant -never to be unpinned. Where can it have come from? It can’t have -fallen from the skies. It’s plain that there are ghosts about. It’s -not easy to do a little job like this in the dark, my dear; but I’ve -managed. I’ve also managed to jab my finger in half-a-dozen places -with the pin. Emily, come here; light a match and hold it while I -examine this mysterious paper. I can’t do everything; and you don’t -seem disposed to do anything at all.” -</p> - -<p> -In endeavouring to do as she requested, I stumbled against her in the -darkness. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s right; knock me over; you’ve made me run the pin into my other -finger. There, my love, are the matches; what you’re grabbing at is my -back hair.” -</p> - -<p> -Taking a match from the box which she thrust into my hand, I tried to -light it at the wrong end; turning it round, a spark leaped into my -eye. I dropped it, to rub my eye. -</p> - -<p> -“Clever, aren’t you? Just the helpful sort of person one likes to be -able to count upon when one is in a bit of a hole. Try again; if at -first you don’t succeed, perhaps you will next time.” -</p> - -<p> -I did. I held the flaming match as conveniently for her as possible; -but, at best, it was not much of a light. Every few moments it went -out; I had to light another. As I fumbled with them now and then, I -was not always so expeditious, perhaps, as I should have been. Pollie -grumbled all the while. -</p> - -<p> -“Can’t you hold it steady? Who do you suppose can see if your hand -keeps shaking?” It was not my hand which shook, it was the flame which -flickered. “It’s queer paper; sort of cigarette paper, it seems to be; -I never saw any like it—at least, so far as I can judge by the light -of that match which you won’t hold steady. I wonder where it came -from, and who it’s from. Emily, someone’s been playing pranks on us -this night; I should like to know just what pranks they were. That’s -right, let the match go out; can’t you keep it alight a little -longer?” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you; it has burned my fingers as it is.” -</p> - -<p> -I lit another. -</p> - -<p> -“There is writing on it; I thought there was; I can see it now. Hold -that match of yours closer.” -</p> - -<p> -In my anxiety to obey her, I gave it too sudden a jerk, the flame was -extinguished. -</p> - -<p> -“There! I suppose you’ll say that you burned that to an end. If you go -on wasting them at this rate we shall be in a fix indeed. How do you -know that those aren’t all the matches we have got?” -</p> - -<p> -“There are some more upon the mantelpiece—I saw them.” -</p> - -<p> -“You saw the boxes; you didn’t see the matches; they may be empty. For -all you can tell rats may be as fond of matches as they are of -candles. Now, do be careful; don’t let that go out. Nearer; the way -you shiver and shake is trying, my love. I never knew there was so -much flicker in a match before. What’s it say? Someone’s been writing -with the point of a pin; you want a microscope to read it. Of course! -Let it go out just as I was beginning to see. You are a treasure! This -time do try to let us have a light on the subject as long as you can.” -</p> - -<p> -She held the paper within an inch of the tip of her nose, and I held a -match as close as I dared. She began to decipher the writing. -</p> - -<p> -“‘Put the key to the front and the key to the back under the door, and -you shall be released. Until you do you will be kept a prisoner. And -the fate of the doomed shall be yours. You child of disobedience!’ -This is pretty; very pretty, on my word. There’s a style about the -get-up of the thing which suggests that the person who got it up -wasn’t taught writing in England; but if it wasn’t written by a woman, -I’m a Dutchman.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then it was she.” -</p> - -<p> -“She? What do you mean? That’s right! By all means let the light go -out at the moment it’s most wanted. Perhaps you’ll tell me what you -mean by ‘she’ in the dark.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, after you had gone to sleep I had a visitor.” -</p> - -<p> -“A visitor! Emily! And you’re alive to tell the tale! And let me sleep -on! And never tried to wake me!” -</p> - -<p> -“At the beginning I was too much afraid, and afterwards I couldn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Who was the visitor?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, that’s more than I can tell you, except that it was a woman.” -</p> - -<p> -“A woman—Emily—came in here after I had gone to sleep! Don’t you -see, or if you can’t see, can’t you feel that I’m on tenterhooks? Will -you go on, or must I take you by the shoulders and shake it out of -you?” -</p> - -<p> -I told her what there was to tell, in the dark. She stood close up to -me. As she said, I could feel she was on tenterhooks. She gripped me -with her hands, as if she were unwilling to let there be so much as an -inch of space between us, for fear of losing a syllable of what I had -to say. As the interest increased her grasp tightened. Yet when I had -to stop and tell her that she was pinching me black and blue, she -resented my remonstrance as if it had been an unnecessary interruption -of my narration. She could not have been more unreasonable had she -tried. And to crown it all, so soon as I had finished she professed to -doubt me. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re sure you’ve been telling me just exactly what took place. I -know your taste for the romantic.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve been telling you nothing but the sober facts.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sober, you call them? Staggering facts they seem to me. But why -didn’t you ask the creature who she was?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t I tell you that I did? And she replied that she was a daughter -of the gods, and held life and death in her hand.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that so? She must have been a oner. Emily, I’ll never forgive you -as long as I live for letting me sleep on.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t! I wish you wouldn’t pinch. If you’d been in my place, I don’t -believe you’d have done anything different—it’s all very well for you -to talk. Why didn’t you wake up on your own accord? Anyone else in -your place would have done—I should. The truth is, Pollie, you were -sleeping like a grampus.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, my pet. I don’t quite know how a grampus sleeps, and I -don’t believe you do either; but I’m obliged for the compliment all -the same. I suppose it’s meant for a compliment. Of course the thing’s -as plain as a pikestaff. Your daughter of the gods sneaked out of one -of Bluebeard’s chambers, where, no doubt, she is at this identical -moment. Shouldn’t I like to get at her! I will before I’m done. It -seems as if she—or somebody—is discontented with the way I’ve -behaved since I came into my fortune, though it’s early days to be -dissatisfied. And the idea apparently is to get hold of the keys, and -then to get rid of me; on the supposition that when I’m once outside I -shan’t be able, without the keys, to get in again. But I’m not quite -so simple as I look. When she went I expect you fell asleep, though -why you didn’t wake me up, and help chivy her downstairs, is more than -I can understand. I’d have daughter-of-the-gods her! Then she sneaked -back, searched for the keys. Fortunately, the intricacies of a -Christian woman’s costume were too many for her. So she jumped to the -conclusion that they were concealed in some mysterious hiding-place, -quite beyond her finding out, daughter of the gods though she is. She -pinned the piece of paper to my bodice, and she locked the door, -supposing that we’d the spirits of mice, and that we’d give her what -she’s no more right to than the man in the moon, just to unlock it -again. But you’re mistaken, you daughter of the gods! Emily, I can’t -see your face, and you can’t see mine. If you could you’d see -determination written on it, and you’d know she was. I don’t mean to -be kept shut up like a rat in a trap, not much, I don’t. Outside -there! Are you going to open this door, or am I to open it for you?” -</p> - -<p> -Bang, bang she went with her fists against the panels. The noise she -made shook the room. -</p> - -<p> -“One thing’s certain, this door’s not protected with sheet iron, or -any pretty stuff of that kind. If it’s not unlocked it won’t be long -before I’m through it, anyhow. Do you hear, you daughter of the gods?” -</p> - -<p> -Smash, crash went the fists again. -</p> - -<p> -I did not know what to say, still less what to do. It was useless -proffering advice. She never was amenable to that. I was sure she -would resent it hotly then. Yet what she proposed to gain by going on -was beyond my comprehension. -</p> - -<p> -It was becoming pretty plain to me that whatever object her Uncle -Benjamin had in view when he made his will it was not his niece’s -benefit. It seemed as if he had died as he had lived, true to the -character which Pollie gave of him. I was beginning to think that he -had meant to use her as a catspaw, though why, or in what way, I -confess I did not understand. That the house was not a good house I -was sure; that it harboured some dreadful characters I felt convinced; -perhaps coiners, or forgers, or abandoned creatures of some kind. -Pollie might be meant to serve as a sort of cover. Her occupation of -the place might be intended to avert suspicion. People seeing her -going in and out, and being aware she lived there, would think there -was nothing strange about the house. It need not be generally known -that she had only access to a part of it. The prohibition against -allowing anybody but another girl to cross the threshold was evidently -meant as a precaution against allowing that fact to become discovered. -Oh yes! nothing could be plainer than that, so far from Pollie’s being -the lucky heritor of a handsome fortune, she was only the tool of her -wicked old uncle; and that, consciously or unconsciously, as such she -was to hide from the world some one or other of his nefarious schemes -which had to be kept hidden even after he was in his grave. -</p> - -<p> -As such thoughts kept chasing each other through my brain I could keep -them to myself no longer. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie, do you know what I should do if I were you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Break open the door with a chair, or the leg of the bedstead, my -dear?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should leave the house this moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Would you indeed? And then?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should go straight to Mr. Paine, and I should renounce the fortune -which your wicked old uncle has pretended to leave you, and refuse to -fall into the trap which he had laid.” -</p> - -<p> -“Emily! Are you insane?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I’m not insane, and it’s because I’m not that I’m advising you. I -feel sure that your Uncle Benjamin never meant to do you any good when -he made that will of his.” -</p> - -<p> -“So far I’m with you. But it’s just possible that the niece may prove -a match for the uncle; she means to try. This is my house, at present. -I’m mistress here, and I mean to play the mistress; not act as if I -were afraid to raise my voice above a whisper. So don’t you forget it, -or we shall quarrel; and, even if things are as bad as you seem to -think, I don’t see how you’ll be better off for that. Light a match, -and keep on lighting one till I tell you to stop.” -</p> - -<p> -She ordered me as if I were a servant: I obeyed because I could not -see my way to refuse. In the match-light she marched to the -mantelpiece. -</p> - -<p> -“Here’s three boxes of matches for you; I’ll take care of the rest. -The matches are in them, luckily. Now the question is what is the -handiest little article by whose help I can get soonest on the other -side of that door. Ah! here’s the poker. It is not much use against -sheet iron, but I fancy it will work wonders with plain wood.” -</p> - -<p> -Brandishing the poker above her head—exactly in the wild way she had -done the night before—she strode towards the door. As she did so -someone addressed her from without; in a deep rumbling bass, which was -more like a growl than a human voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Beware, you fool, beware! Your life’s at stake, more than your life. -Obey, before it is too late.” -</p> - -<p> -In my most natural surprise and agitation, the match, dropping from my -fingers, was extinguished as it reached the floor. The room was -plunged into darkness. Pollie behaved as if the fault were mine. -</p> - -<p> -“You idiot! Did you do that on purpose?” -</p> - -<p> -She caught me by the arm as if she meant to break it. In her -unreasoning rage I quite expected her to strike me with the poker. As -I waited for it to fall the voice came again. -</p> - -<p> -“Be warned!—for the last time!—obey!” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch16"> -CHAPTER XVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE NOISE WHICH CAME FROM THE PASSAGE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Smash</span>, crash, smash! Pollie had thrust me aside. She was battering -at the door with her poker, issuing, as she did so, her instructions -to me. -</p> - -<p> -“Light a match, you idiot! light a match!” -</p> - -<p> -I did. She paused to enable her to learn, by the aid of its uncertain -flicker, what effect her blows had had upon the door. -</p> - -<p> -“Give it to me. Light another! Do as I tell you, keep on lighting one. -I’ll do all that there is to do; all you have to do is to keep a light -upon the scene. Do you hear?—I thought that poker would be equal to a -wooden door.” -</p> - -<p> -She had broken in one of the panels, leaving a hole almost large -enough for her to put her hand through. -</p> - -<p> -“Give me another match; as many as you can; as fast as you can!” -</p> - -<p> -I gave her them as quickly as I could get them lighted. She held half -a dozen between her fingers at at a time. Keeping her face close to -the break in the panel she endeavoured, by their light, to see what -was without. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Mr. Bogey-man, where are you? Step to the front, don’t be shy! -Let’s see what kind of an article you are. It’s only Pollie Blyth, you -pretty thing; you’re not afraid of Pollie Blyth? Perhaps you’re the -father of the daughter of the gods; if so, I’m sure I should like to -have a peep at you, you must be so good-looking. You see that I’m -obeying. When I reach you I’ll show you how to do some obeying on your -own. I’ll thank you properly for treating the mistress of the house as -if she were the dirt beneath your feet. Emily, my dear, there’s -nothing and no one to be seen; move faster with those matches do! I’m -afraid Mr. Bogey-man is a cur and a coward. He has a big voice, but -that’s all that’s big about him. Perhaps he suspects that this poker -is harder than his head; and, between you, I, and the door post, I -shouldn’t be surprised if he finds he’s right. Keep lively with those -matches. I don’t fancy there’ll be much trouble in dealing with this -curiosity in locks; but I should like to have some idea of what I’m -doing. Now then, stand clear! Here’s to you, Mr. Bogey-man.” -</p> - -<p> -She brought down the poker with a force of which I had never supposed -her capable; this was a new Pollie, whose existence was becoming for -the first time known to me. I wondered what they would have thought of -her at Cardew and Slaughter’s! The rotten old lock started from its -fastenings; the door itself was shaken to its foundations. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s one. There’s not much about this job to try your strength on. -I think we shall manage it in three. Here’s to our early meeting, Mr. -Bogey-man.” -</p> - -<p> -She managed it in three. At the third blow the door was open. I had -not expected it so soon. Taken unawares, before I had time to shield -the light the draught had blown it out. Of course Pollie turned to -rend me. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s you all over; such a sensible thing to do. Don’t let us have a -light when we want it most. How do you suppose that we are going to -see Mr. Bogey-man when we can’t see anything?” -</p> - -<p> -As it happened, her reproach was premature. Just then we could see a -good deal; all that there was to see. As the door swung open the -landing was illumined by a faint white light, which was yet strong -enough to throw all objects into distinct relief. It seemed to ascend -from below. Pollie rushed to the banisters; to discover nothing. -</p> - -<p> -“More tricks, I suppose. What a box of tricks somebody seems to have. -Reminds you of the Egyptian Hall, doesn’t it, my dear? Thank you, -whoever you are, for this magic lantern effect; and for allowing us to -see that there is nothing to be seen. It’s so good of you to show a -trifle of light upon the situation; isn’t it, my sweet?” -</p> - -<p> -She paused; as if for an answer. None came. The light continued. She -turned to me, speaking at the top of her voice, with the obvious -intention of making her words audible to whomsoever the house might -contain. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me, Emily, what you would advise me to do. Shall I go straight -away to a police station; say that in two rooms in this house are -hidden a pack of thieves; return with an adequate police force, have -the rooms broken open and their inmates arrested? or shall I address -myself to the persons whom we know are in concealment; tell them that -I am Pollie Blyth, the rightful owner of this house; appeal to their -better natures; assuring them that if they will trust in me they shall -not have cause to complain of misplaced confidence; and that I will do -all that an honest woman may to shield them from the consequences of -any offences of which they have been guilty. Which of these two -courses would you advise me to take?” -</p> - -<p> -I hesitated before replying. When I spoke it was in a voice which was -very many tones lower than hers. She objected to its gentleness. -</p> - -<p> -“I would suggest——” -</p> - -<p> -“Speak up. You’re not afraid of being overheard.” -</p> - -<p> -I was, though I was not disposed to admit as much. Clearing my throat, -I tried to speak a little louder. Although the loudness of my voice -startled me, it did not come within miles of her stentorian -utterances. -</p> - -<p> -“I think you had better go straight away to the police station; I feel -sure you had.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you are right. But as that would probably mean that anyone -found hiding on my premises would be sent to prison for life; and I do -not wish to have even the worst characters hauled into jail without -giving them a chance to clear themselves, I will listen to the -dictates of mercy first of all. Do you understand?” -</p> - -<p> -Going to the closed door which adjoined the bedroom we had just -quitted she beat a tattoo on it with the end of the poker. -</p> - -<p> -“You may be sure that what I say I mean, so if you are wise you will -be warned in time. Come out, and make a clean breast of why you have -been trying to hide in such a ridiculous manner from the rightful -owner of these premises, and all may yet be well with you. I’m a -forgiving sort of person when I’m taken in the right way. But if you -won’t come out, I’ll have you dragged out by the head and heels, and -then all will be ill with you, very ill indeed. For I’m the hardest -nut you ever cracked if I’m taken in the wrong way. Do you hear, you -daughter of the gods, or whoever you are?” -</p> - -<p> -The inquiry was emphasised by another tattoo with the end of the -poker. At its close she paused for a reply. None came. She was -evidently dissatisfied that her eloquence should have met with so bald -a result. -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, Emily, you will bear me witness that I gave them due and -proper warning. It will be all nonsense for them to pretend that they -haven’t heard. They couldn’t help but hear. See how I’ve shouted. Oh -yes, they’ve all heard right enough! Now they must take the -consequences of their own stupidity. Their blood will be on their own -heads. They’ll have to suffer. Oh, won’t you just have to suffer!” -</p> - -<p> -Another salute from the end of the poker. While she was still -hammering at the door, the mysterious light which had continued -hitherto to illumine the staircase, without any sort of notice died -away. -</p> - -<p> -“Emily!—a match!—quick! I think I hear someone moving.” -</p> - -<p> -I also had thought that I heard a movement; which was not rats. I -struck a light as rapidly as my blundering fingers would permit. -</p> - -<p> -“Come to the banisters, hurry! If anyone is going to act upon my -excellent advice, and is coming up the stairs, let’s have a chance of -seeing who it is.” -</p> - -<p> -In my anxiety not to baulk her impatience I hastened towards her -before the match had properly ignited; as a result, with a little -splutter, it went out. -</p> - -<p> -“You idiot! Don’t you know that life and death may hang upon your -being able to keep a match alight?” -</p> - -<p> -I knew it as well as she did. The knowledge did not lend to steady my -nerves; especially when it was emphasised in such a fashion. I made -several ineffectual efforts to induce a match to burn; with one accord -they refused to do anything. Uttering an angry ejaculation Pollie -struck one of her own. -</p> - -<p> -“Emily, there is someone moving; but they’re not coming up, they’re -going down. Then if they won’t come to me I must go to them, that’s -all. Mr. Bogey-man, or Miss Daughter-of-the-gods, or whoever you are, -if you please, I want a word with you.” -</p> - -<p> -Without giving me a hint of what she intended to do she rushed down -the stairs, half-a-dozen at a time. Of course the match she carried -was immediately extinguished. I could hear her, undeterred by its -extinction, plunging blindly down through the darkness. I succeeded in -getting one of my matches to burn. I leaned over the banisters to let -her have the benefit of any radiance it might afford. I could see -nothing of her. She was on the flight below. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie! Pollie!” I cried. “Do be careful what you’re doing.” -</p> - -<p> -I could not tell if she heard me. The warning went unheeded if she -did. My match went out. Before I could strike another there arose, -through the darkness, from the passage below, the most dreadful tumult -I had ever heard. Shriek after shriek from Pollie; shrieks as of -mortal terror. A growling noise, as of some wild animal in sudden -rage. The din of a furious struggle. How long the uproar lasted I -cannot say. On a sudden there came a wilder, more piercing scream from -Pollie than any which had gone before; the growling grew more furious; -there was the sound of a closing door, and all was still. -</p> - -<p> -The death-like silence which followed was of evil omen. The contrast -to the discord of a moment back was frightfully significant. I clung -to the banisters to help me stand. What had happened to Pollie? What, -shortly—at any second! might happen to me? I did not dare to try and -think. I felt the handrail slipping from my grasp. Merciful oblivion -swept over me. I was conscious of nothing more. -</p> - - -<h2 id="b3"> -BOOK III.<br/> -<span class="book_sub">THE GOD OF FORTUNE.</span> -</h2> - -<p class="center"> -(MR. FRANK PAINE TELLS THE STORY OF HIS ASSOCIATION WITH THE -TESTAMENTARY DISPOSITIONS OF MR. BENJAMIN BATTERS.) -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch17"> -CHAPTER XVII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE AFFAIR OF THE FREAK.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I have</span> not yet been able to determine if my connection with the -testamentary dispositions of Mr. Benjamin Batters was or was not, in -the first place, owing to what I call the Affair of the Freak in the -Commercial Road. On no other hypothesis can I understand why the -business should have been placed in my hands. While, at the same time, -I am willing to admit that the connection, if any, was of so shadowy -a nature that I am myself at a loss to perceive where it quite comes -in. -</p> - -<p> -What exactly took place was this. -</p> - -<p> -George Kingdon had got his first command. As we have been the friends -of a lifetime, and are almost of an age, he being twenty-seven and I -twenty-eight, the matter had almost as much interest for me as it had -for him. The vessel’s name was <i>The Flying Scud</i>. It was to leave the -West India south dock on Tuesday, April 3. He dined with me the night -before. We drank success to the voyage. The following day I went to -see him start. All went well; he had a capital send off; was in the -highest spirits; and the last I saw of him the ship was going down the -river on the tide. -</p> - -<p> -It was, I suppose, about seven o’clock in the evening. It had been a -glorious day; promised to be as fine a night. The shadows were only -just beginning to lengthen. I had had a drink or two with Kingdon, and -felt that a walk would do me good. I strolled along Preston’s Road and -High Street, into the West India Road, and thence into the Commercial -Road. Before I had gone very far I came upon a number of people who -were thronging round one of the entrances into Limehouse Basin. They -were crowding round some central object which was apparently affording -them entertainment of a somewhat equivocal kind. I asked a bystander -what was the matter; a man with between his lips a clay pipe turned -bowl downwards. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s one of Barnum’s Freaks. They’re giving him what for.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s he done?” -</p> - -<p> -“Done?” The fellow shrugged his shoulders. “He ain’t done nothing so -far as I knows on; what should he ’ave done? They’re only ’aving a -bit o’ fun.” -</p> - -<p> -It was fun of a peculiar sort; humorous from the Commercial Road point -of view only. I doubted if the “Freak” found it amusing. He was being -hustled this way and that; serving as a target for remarks which were, -to say the least, unflattering. All at once there came a dent in the -crowd. The “Freak” had either tumbled, or been pushed, over. Three or -four of his more assiduous admirers had gone down on the top of him. -The others roared. Four or five of those in the front rank were shoved -upon the rest. The joke expanded. Presently the “Freak” was at the -bottom of a writhing heap. -</p> - -<p> -Perceiving that the jest was likely to become a serious one for the -point of it, I forced my way into the centre of the crowd. -</p> - -<p> -“Stand back!” I cried. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves! You -ought to pity the man instead of making sport of him. He is as God -made him; it is not his fault that he is not like you.” -</p> - -<p> -Nor, I felt as I looked at the faces which surrounded me, was it, -after all, his serious misfortune either. Unless their looks belied -them, in a moral, mental, and physical sense, the majority of them -were “freaks,” if the word had any meaning. They gave way, however, to -let me pass; it seemed that their temper was thoughtless rather than -cruel. Soon I had extricated the wretched creature from his -ignominious, and even perilous, position. Hailing a passing -four-wheeler I put him into it. I slipped some money into the driver’s -hand, and, bidding him take his fare to Olympia, the man drove off. -The crowd booed a little, and then stared at me. Then, seeing that I -paid them no sort of heed, they were so good as to suffer me to pursue -my way unmolested and alone. -</p> - -<p> -It was only after I had gone some little distance that I realised that -I knew nothing whatever about the creature I had put into the cab. I -had only the clay-piped gentleman’s word for the fact that he, she, or -it was a freak at all. The creature—I call it creature for lack of -more precise knowledge as to what he, she, or it, really was—was so -enveloped in an odd-shaped cloak of some dark brown material, that, -practically, so far as I had been able to see, nothing of it was -visible. For all that I could tell the creature beneath the cloak -might not have been human. There was certainly nothing to show—except -the way in which it was shrouded, and that might have been owing to -the action of the crowd—that it was what is commonly called a freak. -Its connection with the Barnum Show at Olympia might be as remote as -mine. If a mistake had been made I wondered what would happen when it -was discovered. Playing the Good Samaritan in the London streets is -not always a remunerative rôle for any one concerned. In my -blundering haste I had probably done at least as much harm as good. I -smiled, drily, at the reflection. Anyhow, I had given the cabman a -liberal fare. To me, then, as now, a cab fare is a cab fare. -</p> - -<p> -I had turned into Cable Street and was nearing the Tower. By now the -night had fallen. In that part of the world, at that hour—I remember -that a minute or two before I had heard a clock strike nine, so that -either I had been longer on the road, or it had been later at the -start, than I imagined—there were not many people in the streets. -There seemed to be fewer the further I went. At any rate, ere long, I -should have them to myself. I was, therefore, the more surprised when, -as I was reaching Tower Hill, without any sort of warning, someone -touched me on the shoulder from behind. I turned to see who had -accosted me. It was rather dark just there, so that it was a moment or -two before I perceived who it was. -</p> - -<p> -It was a woman, and that was about all which, at first, I could make -out. She, too, was enveloped in a cloak. It was of such ample -dimensions that not only did it conceal her figure, but, drawn over -her head, it almost completely concealed her features. Nearly all that -I could see was a pair of what seemed unusually bright eyes, gleaming -from under its folds. My impulse was to take her for a beggar, or -worse, for a woman of the streets. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you want?” -</p> - -<p> -“Take this, it is for helping him just now.” -</p> - -<p> -Before I could prevent her she had slipped something into my hand. It -felt as if it were something hard, wrapped in a piece of paper. -</p> - -<p> -“For helping whom?” -</p> - -<p> -“The Great God.” -</p> - -<p> -She dropped her voice to a whisper. I had not the vaguest inkling of -her meaning. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean?—What is this you have given me?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is the God of Fortune; it will bring you good luck. Tell me your -name.” -</p> - -<p> -“My name? What has my name to do with you? Whatever is this? I cannot -take it from you; thank you all the same.” -</p> - -<p> -I held out to her the little packet she had pressed into my palm. She -ignored it; repeating her inquiry. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me your name, quick!” -</p> - -<p> -There was a curious insistence in her manner which tickled what I, -with sufficient egotism, call my sense of humour. She spoke as if she -had but to command for me to obey; I obeyed. I furnished her not only -with my name, but, also, with my address. There was no harm done. I am -a solicitor; figure on the law list; advertisement, of some sort, is -to me something very much like bread and cheese. Without thanking me, -or dropping a hint to explain her curiosity, so soon as I had supplied -her with the information she demanded, turning, she flew off down the -street like some wild thing. I doubt if I could have kept pace with -her had I tried. I did not try. I let her go. -</p> - -<p> -“This is a night of adventures,” I said to myself. “What is the -present which the lady’s given me; the money which I paid the -cabman?—Hallo!—That’s queer!” -</p> - -<p> -I was beginning to tear open the piece of paper, and with that intent -had already twisted off a corner, when, hey presto! it opened of its -own accord, just as if a living thing had been inside, and, with a -rapid movement, rent it from top to bottom. I was holding what seemed -to be a curiosity in the way of tiny dolls. The toy, if it was a toy, -was not so long as my forefinger. It seemed to have been cut out of a -piece of wood, and fantastically painted to illustrate some very -peculiar original. It had neither feet nor legs, nor hands or arms. -Its head, which was set between hunched-up shoulders, was chiefly -remarkable for a pair of sparkling eyes, which I concluded to be -beads. I turned it over and over without discovering anything which -pointed to a hidden spring. It looked as if it had never moved, and -never would. There was nothing whatever to show by what means the -paper had come open. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s odd, and ingenious. I suppose there is a spring of some sort; -wood, even when it represents the God of Fortune—I think the lady -mentioned the God of Fortune—does not move of its own volition. I’ll -discover it when I get home.” -</p> - -<p> -I slipped the toy into my waistcoat pocket, meaning to subject it to a -searching examination later on. However, when I reached my chambers I -found letters which demanded immediate attention. They occupied some -time. It was only when I was thinking of a nightcap preparatory to -turning into bed, and was feeling for a penknife with which to cut a -cigar, that I remembered the doll. I tossed it on to the mantelshelf. -There it remained. -</p> - -<p> -As I have said, that was the night of April 3. Since nearly a month -elapsed before the arrival of Mr. Batters’ will, and nothing in any -way suggestive occurred in the interval, it would seem as if the -connection between the will and the events of that evening was of the -slightest. Yet I felt that if it had not been for the Affair of the -Freak in the Commercial Road, or if I had afterwards refused to give -the woman my name and address, I should have heard nothing of Mr. -Batters’ will. I do not pretend to be able to explain the feeling, but -there it was. -</p> - -<p> -I should, perhaps, in fairness add, that a queer little incident which -coincided with the arrival of the will, seemed to point, whimsically -enough, in the same direction. -</p> - -<p> -The document came on a Thursday morning. When I entered the room which -I used as an office, I found that four communications were awaiting -me. The postman had brought them all. The boy I call—to shed dignity -on him and on myself—a clerk, had set them out upon the table. Three -letters in ordinary envelopes. The fourth was an awkward, bulky, -coarse brown paper parcel. On it was the doll which the woman had -given me on the night of April 3, in the lonely street near Tower -Hill. -</p> - -<p> -I had forgotten its existence. I took it for granted that its presence -on that spot was owing to Crumper’s sense of humour. I called to him. -</p> - -<p> -“Crumper!” His head appeared at the door. “What do you mean by putting -this here?” He stared, as if he did not catch my meaning. There are -moments when Crumper finds it convenient to be dull. “You understand -me well enough; what do you mean by putting this doll upon my parcel?” -</p> - -<p> -He still looked as if he did not understand. But Crumper had a -capacity of being able to handle his face as if it were an indiarubber -mask, on which he is able to produce any expression at will. -</p> - -<p> -“Doll, sir? I don’t know anything about a doll, sir.” He came into the -room, pointing with his thumb. “Do you mean that, sir? It wasn’t there -when I left the room just now; to that I’ll take my affidavit.” -</p> - -<p> -It is no use arguing with Crumper. The depth of his innocence is not -to be easily plumbed. I sent him back to his den; knocked the doll -with a fillip of my finger backwards on to the table; opened the brown -paper parcel. -</p> - -<p> -Of its contents I was not able, at first, to make head or tail. After -prolonged examination, however, I arranged them thus: -</p> - -<div class="quote_o"><div class="quote_i"> - -<p class="noindent"> -(<i>a</i>) The Missionary’s Letter. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -(<i>b</i>) The Holograph Will. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -(<i>c</i>) The Bonds. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -(<i>d</i>) The Enclosure. -</p> -</div></div> - -<p> -Summed up, the contents of the packet amounted to this. -</p> - -<p> -A certain Benjamin Batters was reported to have died on an island on -the other side of the world of which I had never heard; why I was -advised of the fact, there was nothing to show. His will was entrusted -to my keeping—how my name had travelled through space so as to reach -the cognisance of the Mr. Arthur Lennard who had reported the death of -the said Benjamin Batters there was not the faintest hint. -Bonds—“Goschens”—to the value of £20,000 accompanied the will; -since they were payable to bearer this alone suggested profound -confidence in an apparently perfect stranger. Finally, there was a -smaller parcel which was sealed and endorsed “To be given to my niece, -Mary Blyth, and to be opened by her only.” -</p> - -<p> -The will—which was almost as rudimentary a document of the kind as I -ever lighted on—bequeathed to the said Mary Blyth the income which -was derived from the consols. As to the person in whose name the -capital was to be vested not a word was said, nor did I perceive -anything which would prevent her from dealing with it exactly as she -chose. She was also, under curious and stringent conditions, to become -the life tenant of a house in Camford Street of which, however, no -title-deeds were enclosed, nor was their existence hinted at. -</p> - -<p> -Had it not been for the presence of the bonds I should have set the -whole thing down right away as a hoax. The heading on “Arthur -Lennard’s” letter was “Great Ka Island: Lat. 5° South; Long. 134° -East.” There might be such a place; the description seemed precise -enough, and I had no atlas which would enable me to determine. But, at -any rate, the packet in which it came had not been posted there. The -postmark was Deptford; the date yesterday’s. When I held the paper on -which the letter had been written up to the light I found that the -watermark was “Spiers and Pond. Freshwater Mill Note. London,” which, -under the circumstances, seemed odd. -</p> - -<p> -It was, perhaps, nothing that the will was obviously the production of -an unlettered person. Such persons do make their own wills, and, -probably, will continue to do so to the crack of doom. But it was -something that it was both unwitnessed and undated. And when to this -was added the fact that the letter which told of Mr. Batters’ decease -was undated too, the conjunction struck one a trifle forcibly. -</p> - -<p> -Then the conditions under which Mary Blyth was to inherit were so -puerile, not to say outrageous. She was never to be out of the -precious house in Camford Street after nine at night. She was to -receive no visitors; have only a woman as a companion, and if that -woman left her, was to occupy the premises alone. After I had read it -for the fourth time I threw the paper on to the table. -</p> - -<p> -“Monstrous! monstrous! It consigns the unfortunate woman to an -unnatural existence; she cannot marry; is cut off from her fellows; -sentenced to lifelong imprisonment. Who would care to become even a -millionaire on such conditions? Even if the thing is what it pretends -to be, I doubt if it would be upheld by any court in England. I’m -inclined to think that someone has been having a little joke at my -expense.” -</p> - -<p> -But there were the bonds. My experience of such articles is -regrettedly small; but, such as it was, it went to show that they were -genuine. Bonds for £20,000 are not a joke. They are among the most -solemn facts of life. If, then, they were real, the presumption was -that the will was not less so. In which case my duty was to have it -proved, and to see that its terms were carried out. Anyhow, there were -the bonds on which to draw for payment of my fees. Emphatically, my -practice was not of sufficient extent to permit me to treat so fat a -client with indifferent scorn. -</p> - -<p> -Cogitating such matters, I had been indulging in what is a habit of -mine; pacing, with my hands in my pockets, up and down the room. -Returning to the table, I prepared to subject the supposititious will -to a still more minute examination. It was not till I stretched out my -hand that I noticed that, in the centre of the sheet of blue foolscap -on which it was inscribed, was—the God of Fortune, the doll in -miniature which, once already, I had ejected from a similar position. -How it had returned to it was a problem which, just then, was beyond -my finding out. I had filliped it right to the extreme edge of the -table. No one had been in the room; Crumper had not so much as put up -the tip of his nose inside the door. I had not touched the thing. Yet -there it was, ostentatiously perched on Mr. Batters’ will. I stared at -the doll; I had an odd notion that the doll stared at me; a ridiculous -feeling, indeed, that the preposterous puppet was alive. I scratched -my head. -</p> - -<p> -“I fancy this morning I must be a bit off colour. A penny doll alive, -indeed! I shall begin seeing things if I don’t look out.” -</p> - -<p> -I slipped the doll into my waistcoat pocket; noting, as I did so, that -it was ugly enough to startle the most morbid-minded juvenile admirers -of its kind. I glanced at the three letters which the morning post had -brought me, neither of which proved to be of any account. Slipped the -missionary’s letter, Mr. Batters’ will, and one of the bonds into an -envelope. Locked the enclosure to be given to Mary Blyth and the rest -of the bonds in a drawer; and, with the envelope in my hand, went to -call on Gregory Pryor. -</p> - -<p> -Pryor is a barrister of some years’ standing; a “rising junior”; -hard-working, hard-headed, a sound lawyer, and a man of the world. -What is more, a friend of my father’s who has transferred his -friendship to me. More than once when I have found myself in a -professional quandary I have laid the matter before him; on each -occasion he has given me just that help and advice I needed. I felt -assured that I should lose nothing by asking for his opinion on the -curious case of Mr. Batters’ will. -</p> - -<p> -When, however, I reached his chambers the clerk told me he was out, -engaged in court. I left word that I would return later in the day. -Having nothing on hand of pressing importance, I felt that I could -hardly employ the interval better than by finding out all that I could -with reference to the house in Camford Street which Mr. Batters -claimed as his own. If the claim proved to be well founded, then the -document which purported to be his will was probably no hoax. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch18"> -CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">COUNSEL’S OPINION.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I should</span> not myself have cared to live in Camford Street, though it -had many residents. It was in the heart, if not exactly of a slum, -then certainly of an unsavoury district. Its surroundings, -residentially speaking, were about as undesirable as they could have -been. Camford Street itself was long, dreary, out-at-elbows, old -enough to look as if it would be improved by being rebuilt. Painters, -whitewashers, people of that kind, had not been down that way for -years; that was obvious from the fronts of the houses. Buildings -stretched from end to end in one continuous depressing row. -Half-a-dozen houses, then a shop; half-a-dozen more, and a blacking -manufactory; three more, and a public-house; another six and a -“wardrobe dealer’s,” doubtful third and fourth hand garments dimly -visible through dirty panes of glass, and so on, for a good half mile. -</p> - -<p> -Eighty-four looked, what it undoubtedly was, an abode of mystery, as -grimy an edifice as the street contained. I know nothing of the value -of property thereabouts; whatever it might have been it was not the -kind of house I should care to have bequeathed to me. Especially if I -had to reside in it. I would rather pass it on to someone who was more -deserving. Shutters were up at all the windows. There was not a trace -of a blind or curtain. At the front door there was neither bell nor -knocker. It seemed deserted. I rapped at the panels with the handle of -my stick; once, and then again. An urchin addressed me from the kerb. -</p> - -<p> -“There ain’t no one living in that ’ouse, guv’nor.” -</p> - -<p> -I thanked him for the information; it never occurred to me to shed a -shadow of doubt on it. I felt sure that he was right. I crossed to a -general shop on the other side of the way. -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me,” I said to the individual whom I took for the -proprietor—“Kennard” was the name over the shop front—“Can you tell -me who lives at No. 84?” -</p> - -<p> -“No one.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Kennard—I was convinced it was he—was a short, paunchy man, with -a bald head and a club foot. He pursed his lips and screwed up his -eyes in a fashion which struck me as rather comical. -</p> - -<p> -“Who is the landlord?” -</p> - -<p> -“No one knows.” -</p> - -<p> -“No one?” I smiled. “I presume you mean that you don’t know. Someone -must; the local authorities, for instance.” -</p> - -<p> -“The local authorities don’t. I’m a vestryman myself, so you can take -that from me. There’s been no rates and taxes paid on that house for -twenty years or more; because no one knows to whom to go for them.” -</p> - -<p> -He thrust his hands under his white apron, protruding his stomach in a -manner which was a little aggressive. -</p> - -<p> -“The last person who lived at Eighty-four was an old gentleman, named -Robertson. He was a customer of mine, and owed me three pound seven -and four when he was missing. It’s on my books to this hour.” -</p> - -<p> -“Missing? Did he run away?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not he; he wasn’t that sort. Besides, there was no reason. He was a -pensioner; he told me so himself. I don’t know what he got his pension -for, but it must have been a pretty comfortable one, because he paid -me regular for over seven years; and I understood at that time, from -what he said, that the house was his own. If it wasn’t I can’t say to -whom he paid rent. The last time I saw him was a Friday night. He came -in here and bought a pound of bacon—out of the back; twelve -eggs—breakfast; five pounds of cheese—I never knew anyone who was -fonder of cheese, he liked it good; a pound of best butter—there was -no margarine nor Australian either in those days; and a pound of -candles. I’ve never seen or heard anything of him since; and, as I -say, that’s more than twenty years ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what became of him?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s more than I can tell you. Perhaps you can tell me. You see, it -was this way.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Kennard was communicative. Business was slack just then. -Apparently I had hit upon a favourite theme. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Robertson was one of your quiet kind. Kept himself to himself; -lived all alone; seemed to know no one; no one ever came to see him. -He never even had any letters; because, afterwards, the postman told -me so with his own lips; he said he’d never known of his having a -letter all the time he was in this district. Sometimes nothing would -be seen of him for three weeks together. Whether he went away or -simply shut himself up indoors I never could make out. He was the -least talkative old chap I ever came across. When you asked him a -question which he didn’t want to answer, which was pretty well always, -he pretended he was silly and couldn’t understand. But he was no more -silly than I was; eccentric, that was all. Anyhow, when the weeks -slipped by, and he wasn’t seen about, no one thought it odd, his -habits being generally known. When quarter day came round I sent my -little girl, Louisa—she’s married now, and got a family—across with -my bill. She came back saying that she could make no one hear; and, -through my window, I could see she couldn’t. ‘That’s all right,’ I -said, ‘There’s no fear for Mr. Robertson’—I’d such a respect for the -man—‘he’s sure to pay.’ But, if sure, he’s been precious slow; for, -as I say, that three seven four is on my books to this hour.” -</p> - -<p> -“If, as you say, the old gentleman lived alone, he may have been lying -dead in the house all the time.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s what I’ve felt. And, what’s more, I’ve felt that his skeleton -may be lying there now.” -</p> - -<p> -“You suggest some agreeable reflections. Do you mean to say that, -during all these years, no one has been in the house to see?” -</p> - -<p> -“No one.” He paused; presently adding, in a tone which he intended -should be pregnant with meaning, “At least, until shortly before this -last Christmas. And I’ve no certainty about that. A man can only draw -his own conclusions.” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“You see those shutters? Well, for over twenty years there weren’t any -shutters hiding those windows. One morning I looked across the street, -and there they were.” -</p> - -<p> -“Someone had put them up in the night?” -</p> - -<p> -“That was my impression. But Mrs. Varley, who lives next door to this, -says that she noticed them coming for about a week. Each morning there -was another window shuttered. She never mentioned a word of it to me; -so that I can only tell you that when I saw them first they were all -up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Who was responsible for their appearance?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s what I should like to know. Directly I clapped eyes on them I -went straight across the road, and knocked at the door; thinking that -if old Robertson had come back—though he’d be pretty ancient if he -had—I might get my money after all; and that if he hadn’t there’d be -no harm done. But no more attention was paid to me than if I hadn’t -been there. I daresay that if I’ve knocked once since I’ve knocked -twenty times; but, though I’ve always felt as if there was someone -inside listening, I’ve never seen a soul about the place, and no one -has ever answered. I tell you what; there’s something queer about that -house. More than once it’s been on the tip of my tongue to warn a -policeman to keep an eye on it. It’s my opinion that London will hear -about it yet.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Kennard was oracular. When, however, on quitting his establishment -I glanced at No. 84, I myself was conscious of a queer feeling that -there was an unusual atmosphere about the house, as if something -strange was brooding over it. I told myself that I was still a little -bilious, and imagined things. -</p> - -<p> -While I had been in conversation with Mr. Kennard I had observed a -curious face peering at us through the window of his shop. Now I -noticed a man, who struck me as being the owner of the face, loitering -a few doors up the street. As I came out, turning, so that his back -was towards me, he began to slowly stroll away. Urged by I know not -what odd impulse, I moved quickly after him. Immediately, he crossed -the street. I crossed at his heels. As if seized with sudden fear, -breaking into a run, he tore off down the street at the top of his -speed. I was reminded of the behaviour of the woman who had thrust the -God of Fortune into my hand. -</p> - -<p> -All the way back to my chambers I was haunted by a disagreeable sense -of being followed. I frequently turned in an endeavour to detect my -shadower; each time no one suspicious seemed to be in sight. Yet, so -persistent was the feeling that, on entering, after lingering for a -second or two in the hall, I darted back again into the court; to -cannon against the man who had been loitering in Camford Street. Had I -not gripped him by the shoulders he would have been bowled over like a -ninepin. -</p> - -<p> -There was no mistaking the individual. I had marked his peculiar -figure; the nondescript fashion of his dress—a long black coat, made, -apparently, of alpaca, reaching to his heels; a soft black felt hat so -much too large for his head that it almost covered his eyes. He was a -foreigner, undersized, unnaturally thin. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, my man, what can I do for you?” He did not reply. His -countenance assumed an expression of vacuous imbecility. I shook him -gently, to spur his wits. “Do you hear, what can I do for you? Since -you have taken the trouble to follow me all this way, I suppose there -is important business which you wish to transact with me.” -</p> - -<p> -The fellow said nothing. Whether he understood I could not say. He -evidently wished me to believe that he did not, shaking his head, as -if he had no tongue. I took him for a Chinaman, though he was darker -than I imagine Chinamen are wont to be. His two little bead-like eyes -burned out of two small round holes, in circumference scarcely larger -than a sixpence. Eyebrows or eyelashes he had none. His skin was -scarred by smallpox. -</p> - -<p> -Since, apparently, nothing could be done with him, I let him go. So -soon as my hand was off him he darted into the Strand like some eager -wild thing. After momentary hesitation I went to see what had become -of him. Already the traffic had swallowed him up. He was out of sight. -</p> - -<p> -Gregory Pryor was in when I called the second time. I laid the God of -Fortune down before him on the table. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s that?” I asked. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a joss.” -</p> - -<p> -“A joss?” The promptness of his reply took me aback. “I thought a joss -was an idol.” -</p> - -<p> -“So it is; what you might call an idol. A symbol some would style it. -They’re of all sorts, shapes and sizes; that is one of the waistcoat -pocket kind. I was once in a case for a Chinaman with an -unpronounceable name. He spoke English better than you and I, knew the -ropes at least as well, yet he had one of these things in each of -about twenty-seven pockets. He was a member of one of the thirteen -thousand Taoist sects. He told me that they’d a joss for everything; a -joss for the hearth, another for the roof, another for the chimney; -three for the beard, whiskers and moustache. In every twig of every -tree they saw a joss of some sort. Where did you get yours from?” -</p> - -<p> -I informed him; then spoke of the contents of the parcel which the -morning’s post had brought. -</p> - -<p> -“I can give you one assurance—this bond’s all right. At a shade under -the market price, I can do with any number. As for your missionary’s -letter, let’s see if Great Ka Island is on the map.” -</p> - -<p> -He got down a gazetteer and an atlas. -</p> - -<p> -“The gazetteer’s an old one. There’s no mention of it here, so it -seems that it was either not known when this was published, or it was -too obscure a spot to be worth recording. The atlas is newer. Ah! here -we have it. Arafura Sea—New Guinea—Dutch New Guinea. There’s a group -of Ka Islands—Great Ka, Little Ka, and others. Great Ka’s largish, -nearly one hundred miles long, but narrow; apparently not ten miles at -the broadest part, and tapering to a point. Sort of reef, I fancy. A -good deal out of the way, and not in any steamer route I ever heard -of. A convenient address for a man who wishes to avoid inquiries.” -</p> - -<p> -Leaning back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together, -Pryor regarded the ceiling. -</p> - -<p> -“Letter’s fishy, and, being undated, no use as evidence. Will’s fishy, -too. But there are the bonds So long as a lawyer sees his way to his -fee, what else matters? I take it that there was a Benjamin Batters, -and that there is a Mary Blyth. I also fancy that there’s more in the -matter than meets the eye. It has come to you in an irregular fashion, -and therefore, in the nature of things, it is sniffy. My advice to you -is, move warily. Discover Mary Blyth; hand over the estate to her, -accepting no responsibility; present your bill, get your money; and, -unless you see good reason to the contrary, wipe your hands of her -thenceforward. If you do that you won’t do very far wrong. Now, -good-bye; I’ve got all this stuff to wade through before I dine.” -</p> - -<p> -I left him to the study of his briefs. His advice I turned over in my -mind, finally resolving that I would move even more warily than he -suggested. Before introducing myself to Mary Blyth, I would spend a -day in endeavouring to discover something about the late Benjamin -Batters, and, particularly, I would try to learn how it was that, -after his death, his affairs had chanced to fall into my hands. -</p> - -<p> -I work, live, eat and sleep in my chambers. As it happens I am the -only person on the premises who does so. There used to be others. But -now, with the exception of my set, what were living rooms are used as -offices, and I am the only actual resident the house contains. After -dark—sometimes before—the workers flit away. I have the entire -building to myself until they return with the morning. -</p> - -<p> -My rooms are four: bedroom; an apartment in which I am supposed to -take my meals; one which I use as an office; and the den, opening -immediately on to the staircase, in which Crumper has his being. That -night I was roused suddenly from sleep. At first I could not make out -what had woke me. Then I heard what was unmistakably the clatter of -something falling. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s someone in the office.” -</p> - -<p> -Slipping out of bed, picking up a hockey stick, making as little noise -as possible, I stole officewards. Intuitively I guessed who was there, -and proposed to interview my uninvited visitor. -</p> - -<p> -My hasty conclusions proved, however, to be a little out. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch19"> -CHAPTER XIX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE RETICENCE OF CAPTAIN LANDER.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> office door was ajar. I remembered that I had left it so when I -came to bed. Through the opening a dim light was visible. I peeped in. -</p> - -<p> -I had expected to find that my guest would take the shape of the -individual who had dogged my footsteps home from Camford Street. I -hardly know on what I based my expectation, but there it was. A single -glance, however, was sufficient to show that “guest” should read -“guests,” for they were three. One was the pock-marked gentleman in -question; a second was seemingly his brother—they were as alike as -two peas; the third was as remarkable a person as I had ever yet -beheld. He was of uncommon height and uncommon thinness. I never saw a -smaller head set on human shoulders. My impression was that it was a -monstrously attenuated monkey, which had thrown a yellow dust sheet -about it anyhow. And it was only when I perceived the deftness with -which the contents of my drawers were being emptied out upon the table -that it occurred to me that, man or monkey, it was advisable I should -interfere. -</p> - -<p> -Just as I had decided that it was about time for me to have a finger -in the pie, my beady-eyed acquaintance of the afternoon lighted on the -God of Fortune, which I had tossed upon the table on my return from -Pryor’s. Snatching it up with a curious cry, he handed it to his -monkey-headed friend. That long-drawn-out gentleman, after a rapid -glance at it, held it up with both hands high above his head. At once -his two associates threw themselves down flat on their faces, -grovelling before the penny doll as if it had been an object too -sacred for ordinary eyes to look upon. The man of length without -breadth began to say something in a high pitched monotone, which was -in a language quite unknown to me, but which sounded as if it were a -prayer or invocation. He spoke rapidly, as if he were repeating a form -of words which he knew by heart. -</p> - -<p> -I was getting interested. It seemed that I was surreptitiously -assisting at some sort of religious service in which the doll played a -conspicuous part. As I was momentarily expecting something to happen, -something in the Arabian Nights way, as it were, that stupid hockey -stick, slipping somehow from my grasp, fell with a bang upon the -floor. That concluded the service on the spot. It must needs strike -against the door in falling, driving it further open, so that I stood -revealed to the trio in plain sight. -</p> - -<p> -My impression is that they took me for something of horror; a -demoniacal visitation, for all I know. My costume was weird enough to -astonish even the Occidental mind. Anyhow, no sooner did they get a -glimpse at me than they stood not on the order of their going, but -went at once. Out went the light, and, also, out went they, through -the window by which they had entered, and that with a show of agility -which did them credit. I caught up that wretched stick, rushed after -them in the darkness, and had the satisfaction of giving someone a -pretty smart crack upon the head as he dropped from the sill on to the -pavement below. I am not sure, but I fancy it was the lengthy one. -</p> - -<p> -Striking a light I looked to see what damage had been done. So far as -I could discover the only thing which was missing was the God of -Fortune, to which they were entirely welcome. Apparently they prized -it more than I did. I had a kind of notion, born of I know not what, -that they had been after the Batters’ papers. If so, they were -disappointed, for I had taken them with me into my bedroom, and at -that moment they were reposing on a chair by my bedside. -</p> - -<p> -The greater part of the following day I spent in searching for someone -who knew something about Benjamin Batters, or Great Ka Island, or -Arthur Lennard, missionary—without result. I learned what I was -already aware of, that there were numerous missionary societies, both -in England and America; and acquired the additional information that -to try to find out something about a particular missionary without -knowing by which society he had been accredited, resembled the -well-known leading case of the search for the needle in the haystack. -At the great shipping office at which I made inquiries no one knew -anyone who had ever been to Great Ka Island, or ever wanted to go. And -as for Benjamin Batters, the general impression seemed to be that if I -wanted to know anything about him I had better put an advertisement in -the agony column, and see what came of that. -</p> - -<p> -Altogether, I felt that the day had been pretty well wasted. But as it -would probably have been wasted anyhow, I had the consolation of -knowing that there had not been so much harm done after all. To the -credit side of the account was the fact that I had picked up three or -four odds and ends of curious information which had never come my way -before. And, as luck would have it, shortly after my return I actually -had a client. Or something like one, at any rate. -</p> - -<p> -Crumper was making ready for departure, when he appeared at the door -with a face on which was an unmistakable grievance. -</p> - -<p> -“Gentleman wishes to see you, sir. Told him that the office was just -closing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did you? Then don’t be so liberal with information of the kind. Show -the gentleman in.” -</p> - -<p> -Crumper showed him in. When I saw him I was not sure that, in the -colloquial sense, he was a gentleman. And yet I did not know. -</p> - -<p> -He was a tall, well set-up man of between thirty and forty, distinctly -good-looking, with fair hair and beard, and a pair of the bluest eyes -I ever saw. He wore a blue serge suit, a turn down collar, and a -scarlet tie. I know something of the sea and of sailors, having -several of the latter among my closest friends. If he was not a sailor -I was no judge of the breed. He brought a whiff of sea air into the -room. -</p> - -<p> -I motioned him to a chair, on which he placed himself as if he was not -altogether at his ease. He glanced at a piece of paper which he had in -his hand. -</p> - -<p> -“You are Mr. Frank Paine?” I inclined my head. “A lawyer?” -</p> - -<p> -I nodded again. He pulled at his beard; observing me with his keen -blue eyes, as if he was thinking that for a lawyer I was rather young. -</p> - -<p> -“I want a lawyer, or rather I want advice which I suppose only a -lawyer can give me. I was speaking about it to George Gardiner, and he -mentioned your name.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am obliged to George; he is my very good friend. To whom have I the -pleasure of speaking?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m Max Lander.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, as I should any friend of Mr. -Gardiner’s. You, like him, are connected with the sea.” -</p> - -<p> -“How did you find that out? Do I look as if I were?” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps only to the instructed eye.” I wondered who, with ordinary -perception, could associate him with anything else. “I am so fortunate -as to have many friends among sailors, therefore I am always on the -look-out for one.” -</p> - -<p> -“That so?” -</p> - -<p> -He kept trifling with his beard, apparently desirous that the burden -of the conversation should rest with me. -</p> - -<p> -“You know Mr. Gardiner well?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not over well.” -</p> - -<p> -“He was my schoolfellow, with another man who is now also a -sailor—another George; George Kingdon.” -</p> - -<p> -“What name?” -</p> - -<p> -“Kingdon. He has lately received his first command; of a ship named -<i>The Flying Scud</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Lander ceased to play with his beard. His hands dropped on to his -knees. He sat forward on his chair, staring at me as if I were some -strange animal. -</p> - -<p> -“Good Lord!” -</p> - -<p> -He seemed agitated. I had no notion why. Something I had said had -apparently disturbed him. -</p> - -<p> -“You know Mr. Kingdon?” -</p> - -<p> -“Kingdon? Kingdon? Is that his name? Then devil take him! No, I don’t -mean that. Perhaps it’s not his fault after all; it’s the fortune of -war. Still—devil take him all the same.” -</p> - -<p> -“What has Mr. Kingdon done to you, Mr. Lander?” -</p> - -<p> -“Done!—done!” Apparently his feelings were too strong for words. -Rising from his seat he began to stride about the room. Then, resting -both hands upon the table, he glared at me. “What has Mr. Kingdon done -to me? Did you hear my name?” -</p> - -<p> -“I understood you to say it was Lander.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s it, Lander; Max Lander. Now don’t you know who I am?” -</p> - -<p> -“It may be my stupidity, but I have not the least idea.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you mean to say that you don’t know George Kingdon’s taken my ship -from me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Taken her from you? I don’t understand. I understood that <i>The Flying -Scud</i> was the property of Messrs. ——” -</p> - -<p> -“Staple, Wainwright and Friscoe; that’s so. That’s the name and title -of the firm; they’re the owners. But I was in command of her the last -three voyages; and when I brought her home I was hoping it was for the -last time.” -</p> - -<p> -“It seems that your hope was justified.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are you laughing at me, Mr. Paine? Because, if you are, take my tip -and don’t. I don’t mind being laughed at in a general way; but this is -a subject on which I bar so much as a smile. I’m too sore, sir, too -sore. Do you know the circumstances under which I got chucked from -<i>The Flying Scud</i>?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not. May I ask if that is the matter on which you are seeking my -advice?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” he began, pulling at his beard again, hesitating, as if -fearing to say too much. “What I want to know is, are your sympathies -with the owner, with Kingdon, or with me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Since I know nothing of what you are referring to, what answer do you -expect me to give? So far as I am concerned, you are talking in -riddles.” -</p> - -<p> -“Look here, Mr. Paine, I’ll make a clean breast of the whole thing. -Gardiner told me you were a decent sort, so I’ll take his word for it. -You see before you the best done man in London—in England—in the -world, for all I know. Done all round! I knew I was taking a certain -risk, but I didn’t know it was a risk in that particular direction, -and that’s where I was had. I saw my way to a real big thing. I went -for it, shoved on all steam; brought the ship home, pretty well empty -as she was; then got diddled. So, when I laid the ship alongside, and -the owners found that there was scarcely enough on board to pay -expenses, they didn’t like it. I got my marching ticket, and Mr. -George Kingdon was in command instead. If it hadn’t been that I’d got -a little money of my own, I should have been on my beam ends before -now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do I gather that you complain of the way in which the owners of <i>The -Flying Scud</i> have treated you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it; nothing of the kind. The only person I complain of -is—we’ll say a party. If I got that, we’ll say, party, alone in a -nice quiet little spot for about ten minutes, after that time I -wouldn’t complain of him. The complaint would be on the other foot.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then do you wish me to assist you in a scheme of assault and -battery?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want that either. The fact is, it’s a queer story. You -wouldn’t believe me if I told it; no one has done yet, so I’m not -going to try my luck again with you. What I want to know is this. -Suppose I ship, we’ll say, a man, and that, we’ll say, man, undertakes -to hand over certain—well, articles, to pay for passage, and deposits -certain other articles by way of earnest money. Before the ship -reaches port that, we’ll say, man, vanishes into air, the articles -which were to have been handed over, vanish with him, and the deposit -likewise. What offence has that, we’ll say, man, been guilty of -against the English law?” -</p> - -<p> -“Your point is a knotty one. Where was the deposit?” -</p> - -<p> -“In a locker in my cabin.” -</p> - -<p> -“Secured by lock and key?” -</p> - -<p> -“Secured by lock and key. And the key was in my pocket.” -</p> - -<p> -“How was it taken out?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s what I want to know.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are sure it was taken out?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dead sure.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you have evidence which will show that the person to whom you -refer made free with the contents of your locker, then I should say -that it was a case of felony. But there may be other points which -would have to be considered. I should have to be placed in possession -of all the facts of the case before I could pronounce an opinion. The -matter may not be so simple as you think.” -</p> - -<p> -“Simple! I think it simple! Good Lord!” He held up his hands, as if -amazed at the suggestion. “There’s another thing I want to know. -Suppose on the strength of that, we’ll say, man’s promises, I make -promises on my own account to certain members of the crew. Being done -by that, we’ll say, man, I was obliged to do them. What is my -position, Mr. Paine, toward those members of the crew?” -</p> - -<p> -“That is a question to which I cannot reply off-hand. It would depend -on so many circumstances. I am afraid you will have to tell me the -whole of your story before I can be of use to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah! That so? I was afraid it would be. I said to myself that you -can’t expect a man, lawyer or no lawyer, to see what’s inside a box -unless you open the lid. But I can’t tell you the story; I can’t. I’m -too sore, sir, too sore. Smarting almost more than I can bear. I’ve -been done out of a fortune, out of my good name, and out of something -I value more than both. That’s a fact. I’ll look round a bit more, and -try to get one of them back, in my own way. Then, if I can’t, perhaps -I’ll come to you again. Sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Paine. What’s -your fee?” -</p> - -<p> -“For what? I’ve been of no use to you. For a pleasant conversation -with my friend’s friend? I charge no fee for that, Mr. Lander.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’re a lawyer. A lawyer’s time is money. I’ve always understood -that a lawyer’s fee is six and eightpence. You’ve found me pretty -trying. So I’ll make it a pound if you don’t mind.” -</p> - -<p> -He laid a sovereign on the table. Without another word he left the -room. I did not try to stop him. To my thinking the whole interview -had verged perilously near to the ridiculous. I took the coin and -locked it in a drawer, proposing, with Gardiner’s assistance, to hunt -up Mr. Lander again. His money should be restored to him, if not in -one form, then in another. -</p> - -<p> -I would dine the man, and make him tell his funny tale. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch20"> -CHAPTER XX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MY CLIENT—AND HER FRIEND.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> next day I was engaged. On that following I went up to Fenchurch -Street, to the offices of Messrs. Staple, Wainwright and Friscoe. I -had ascertained that Gardiner was out of town, and actuated by motives -of curiosity thought I would learn where Mr. Lander might be found. As -I was going up the steps an old gentleman came down. I knew him pretty -well. His name was Curtis. He had been, and, indeed, for all I knew, -was still an agent of Lloyd’s. For two or three years we had not met. -After we had exchanged greetings, I put to him my question. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know a man named Lander, Max Lander?” -</p> - -<p> -“Late of <i>The Flying Scud</i>?” -</p> - -<p> -An odd expression came on his face, as it were the suggestion of a -grin. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the man.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I know something of Max Lander, Captain Max, as he likes to be -called. Though there’s not much of the captain about him just at -present.” -</p> - -<p> -The grin came more to the front. -</p> - -<p> -“He called on me about a matter of which I could make neither head nor -tail. I should like to have another talk with him. Can you tell me -where he’s to be found?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Curtis shook his head. -</p> - -<p> -“Just now he’s resting. It’s been a little too hot for him of late. I -fancy he’s lying by till it gets a little cooler.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s wrong with the man?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing exactly wrong, only he’s had a little experience. Sorry I -can’t stay, this cab’s waiting for me.” He stepped into the hansom -which was drawn up by the kerb. “If you want to know what’s wrong with -Lander, you mention to him the name of Batters—Benjamin Batters.” -</p> - -<p> -The cab drove off. Before I had recovered from my astonishment it was -beyond recall. -</p> - -<p> -Batters? Benjamin Batters? My Benjamin Batters? There could hardly be -two persons possessed of that alliterative name. If I had only guessed -that there was any sort of connection between him and Benjamin -Batters, Mr. Lander would not have departed till we had arrived at a -better understanding. Why had the idiot not dropped a hint? Why had -Curtis driven off at that rate at the wrong moment? -</p> - -<p> -I asked at the office for the address of Captain Max Lander. I was -snubbed. The name was evidently not a popular one in that -establishment. The clerk, having submitted my inquiry to someone -elsewhere, informed me curtly that nothing was known of such a person -there, and appeared to think that I had been guilty of an impertinence -in supposing that anything was. When I followed with a request for -information about a Mr. Benjamin Batters, I believe that clerk thought -I was having a game with him. Somewhere in the question must have been -a sting, with which I was unacquainted; for, with a scowl, he turned -his back on me, not deigning to reply. -</p> - -<p> -As I did not want to have an argument with Messrs. Staple, Wainwright -and Friscoe’s staff, I went away. I pursued my inquiries elsewhere, -both for Captain Max Lander and for Mr. Benjamin Batters. But without -success. The scent had run to ground. By the evening I concluded that -I had had about enough of the job. Instead of trying to find out -things about Benjamin Batters, I would seek out Mary Blyth. She should -have the good news. I was not sure that I had not already kept them -from her longer than I was justified in doing. She should learn that -she was the proud possessor of a tumble-down, disreputable house in -Camford Street; though, so far as I could see, she had not a shadow of -a title to it which would hold good in law; but perhaps she was not a -person who would allow herself to be hampered by a trifle of that -description; also of a comfortable income derived from -consols—conditions being attached to both bequests which were -calculated to drive her mad. Having imparted that good news, I would -wash my hands of the Batters’ family for good and all. There was -something about it which was, as Gregory Pryor put it, “sniffy.” -</p> - -<p> -With that design I started betimes the next morning. I had no -difficulty in finding the establishment of Messrs. Cardew and -Slaughter, where Mr. Batters stated in his will that he had last heard -of his niece as an assistant. It was an “emporium,” where they sold -many things you wanted, and more which you did not, from gloves to -fire-irons. After being kept waiting an unconscionable length of time, -asked many uncalled-for questions, and enduring what I felt to be -intentional indignities, I was ushered into the office of Mr. -Slaughter. -</p> - -<p> -That gentleman was disposed to mete out to me even more high-handed -treatment than Messrs. Staple, Wainwright and Friscoe. Under the -circumstances, however, that was more than I was inclined to submit -to. He seemed to regard it as sheer insolence that a stranger should -venture to speak to him—the great Slaughter!—of such a mere nothing -as one of his assistants. As if I had wanted to! We had quite a -passage of arms. In the midst who should come running in but the girl -herself—Mary Blyth. -</p> - -<p> -She had just been dismissed. I had come in the nick of time to prevent -her being thrown—literally thrown—into the street. That was a -partial explanation of Mr. Slaughter’s haughtiness. Pretty badly she -seemed to have been used. And very hot she was with a sense of injury. -She had a companion in misfortune; a prettier girl I had never seen. -The pair had been sent packing at a moment’s notice. If I had been a -minute or two later I should have missed them; they would have gone. -In which case the most striking chapter in my life’s history might -have had to be written in a very different fashion. -</p> - -<p> -When it came to paying the two girls the wretched pittance which was -due to them as wages, an attempt was made to keep back the larger -portion of it under the guise of “fines,” that rascally system by -means of which so many drapers impose upon the helpless men and women -they employ. A few sharp words from me were sufficient to show that -this was an occasion on which that method of roguery could hardly be -safely practised. I judged that the sum paid them—fifteen -shillings—represented their entire fortune. With that capital they -were going out to face the world. -</p> - -<p> -In the cab I had an opportunity of forming some idea of what my client -was like. -</p> - -<p> -Mary Blyth was big, rawboned, and, I may add, hungry looking. She gave -me the impression that she had had a hard life, one in which she had -had not seldom to go without enough to eat. In age I set her down as -twenty-six or seven. She was not handsome; on the other hand she was -not repellent. Her features were homely, but they were not unpleasing, -and there was about them more than a suggestion of honesty and -shrewdness. Her experience of the rougher side of life had probably -given her a readiness of wit, and a coolness of head, which would -cause her to find herself but little at a loss in any position in -which a changeable fate would place her. That was how she struck me. I -liked her clear eyes, her pleasant mouth, her determined nose and -chin. Intellectuality might not be her strongest point; obviously, in -a scholastic sense, her educational advantages had been but small. Her -tongue betrayed her. But, unless I greatly erred, she was a woman of -character for all that. Strong, enduring, clear-sighted, within her -limits; sure and by no means slow. A little prone to impatience, -perhaps; it is a common failing. I am impatient myself at times. -Still, on the whole, on her own lines, a good type of an Englishwoman. -</p> - -<p> -My client’s appearance pleased me better than I feared would have been -the case. I was not so eager to wash my hands of the Batters’ -connection as I had been. -</p> - -<p> -But it was my client’s friend who appealed most strongly to my -imagination. She took my faculties by storm. I am not easily -disconcerted. Yet, in her presence, I felt ridiculously ill at ease. -She was only a girl. I kept telling myself that she was only a girl. -I believe that it was because she was only a girl that I was conscious -of such curious sensations. She sat opposite me in the cab. Every time -her knee brushed against mine, I felt as if I was turning pink and -green and yellow. It was not only uncomfortable, it was undignified. -</p> - -<p> -She was just the kind of girl I like to look at; yet, for some reason, -I hardly dared allow my eyes to stray in her direction. I could look -at Miss Blyth; stare at her, indeed, till further notice, in the most -callous, cold-blooded way. But my glances studiously avoided her -friend. Her name was Emily Purvis—the friend’s name, I mean. I had a -general impression that she had big eyes, light brown hair, and a -smile which lit up her face like sunshine. I am aware that this sounds -slightly drivelling; if it were another man I should say that his -language reminded me of a penny novelette. But my mood at the moment -was pronouncedly imbecile; I was only capable of drivel. The girl had -come upon me with such a shock of surprise. I had never expected to -light on anything of that kind when pursuing the niece of Benjamin -Batters. -</p> - -<p> -Miss Purvis was small. I like small women. I am aware that this is an -age of muscularity, and that athletics do cause women to run to size. -But, for my part, I like them little. Bone, muscle, stamina, these -things are excellent. From a physical point of view, no doubt, the -Amazon, when she is fit, in good condition, is all that she should be. -I admire such a one, even when her height is five feet eleven. But I -do not like her; I never could. As to having a woman of that -description for a wife—the saints forbid! -</p> - -<p> -Miss Purvis was little. Not a dwarf, nor insignificant in any sense, -but small enough. I am six foot one, and I judged that the top of her -head would just come above my shoulder. Daintily fashioned, curves not -angles. Exactly the kind of girl ninety-nine men out of a hundred -would feel inclined to take into their arms at sight. The hundredth -man would be a sexless idiot; and, also, most probably, stone blind. -It was astonishing how afraid I felt of her. -</p> - -<p> -It was an odd drive to my chambers. My client talked, Miss Purvis -talked, I only dropped a boobyish remark at intervals. The idea that -such a girl as that should only have fifteen shillings between her and -starvation, and that to keep herself alive she should have to seek -another situation in such a den of roguery, servitude, humiliation, as -that from which she had just escaped, was to me most horrible. I was -irritated, illogically enough, because Benjamin Batters had not left -her a portion of the income which was derived from those bonds of his. -I was conscious of the fact that he had had no cognisance of her -existence. But, at the moment, that was not the point. -</p> - -<p> -Two incidents marked our progress. -</p> - -<p> -The first was when Miss Blyth, putting her head out of the cab window, -recognised, with every appearance of surprise, a man standing on the -pavement whom she called Isaac Rudd. I observed that he saw us, and -the keenness with which his gaze was fastened on us. There was a -seafaring air about the fellow which recalled Max Lander to my mind. -Although I said nothing of it to the ladies, I had a shrewd suspicion -that he was following us in another cab, which he had hailed as soon -as we had passed. Two or three times when I looked out I noticed that -a second four-wheeler seemed to be keeping us in sight. In view of my -recent experiences, had I been alone I should have lost no time in -putting the question to the proof. Not only, however, just then, were -my wits a good deal wanting, but I felt a not unnatural disinclination -to cause my companions uneasiness. Especially as I more than suspected -that Miss Blyth might have enough of that a little later on. -</p> - -<p> -The second incident was a trifle startling. -</p> - -<p> -Shortly after catching sight of the man she called Isaac Rudd, she -gave a sudden exclamation. She was staring at something with wide-open -eyes. I looked to see what it was. -</p> - -<p> -There, on her knee, was my God of Fortune. -</p> - -<p> -Her surprise at its appearance was unmistakably genuine. How it had -come there she was unable to explain. It might have been -“materialised,” as the Theosophists have it, out of the intangible -air. But it seemed that it was not the first time she had encountered -it. -</p> - -<p> -It had been slipped into her hand the night before by a fantastically -attired individual who was evidently my length without breadth -visitor, whom I had interrupted in his pseudo service, and who had -dropped out of my office window with my God of Fortune in his hand. -Although I made no reference to that occurrence, I was none the less -struck by the fashion in which he had chosen to introduce himself to -the niece of Mr. Benjamin Batters. The singularity of the thing went -further. When the doll was slipped into the lady’s hand it was cased -in a piece of paper, as it was when it was slipped into mine, from, -which, again exactly as had happened with me, it forced itself -apparently of its own volition. -</p> - -<p> -I made no comment, but, with Miss Blyth’s permission, I put the doll -into my waistcoat pocket; concluding that it might prove worthy of -more minute examination than I had yet bestowed on it—even to the -breaking of it open to discover “the works.” -</p> - -<p> -This is a sober chronicle. I trust I am a sober chronicler. I wish to -set down nothing which suggests the marvellous. I have an inherent -dislike to wonders, being without faith. When men speak of the -inexplicable I think of trickery, and of some quality which is not -perception. Therefore I desire it to be understood that the following -lines are written without prejudice; and that of what happened there -may be a perfectly simple explanation which escaped my notice. -</p> - -<p> -I trust that there is. -</p> - -<p> -I had read the missionary’s letter, and the will, and had handed to -Miss Blyth the sealed enclosure. When she opened it she found that -within the packet was a little wooden box. On lifting the lid of this -box, the first thing she saw—which we all saw—was my God of Fortune, -or its double. It was just inside the box, staring at her, as it lay -face upwards. Feeling in my waistcoat pocket for the duplicate, I -found that it had gone. It had, apparently, passed into that wooden -box, which had, until that moment, remained inviolate within that -sealed enclosure. How, I do not pretend to say. -</p> - -<p> -It was but a little thing, yet it affected me more than a greater -might have done. A succession of “trifles light as air” may unsettle -the best balanced mind. One begins, by degrees, to have a feeling that -something is taking place, or is about to take place, of a character -to which one is unaccustomed. And under such circumstances the -unaccustomed, particularly when one is unable to even dimly apprehend -the form which it may take, one instinctively resents. -</p> - -<p> -I decided that, at any rate, that should be the last appearance of the -God of Fortune. Taking it from Miss Blyth, who yielded it readily -enough, I walked with it to the fire, intending to make an end of it -by burning. As I went something pricked my fingers so suddenly, and so -sharply, that in my surprise and, I might add, pain, the doll dropped -from my hand. When we came to look for it it was not to be found. We -searched under tables and chairs in all possible and impossible -places, with a degree of eagerness which approached the ludicrous, -without success. The God of Fortune had disappeared. -</p> - -<p> -I am reluctant to confess how much I was disconcerted by so trivial an -occurrence. -</p> - -<p> -I must have been morbidly disposed; still liverish. That is the only -explanation which I can offer why I should all at once have felt so -strongly that everything connected with Mr. Benjamin Batters’ -testamentary dispositions wore a malign aspect. I was even -haunted—the word is used advisedly—by a wholly unreasonable -conviction that Miss Blyth was being dragged into a position of -imminent peril. -</p> - -<p> -This foolishness of mine was rendered more ridiculous by the fact that -Miss Blyth’s own mood was all the other way. And in this respect Miss -Purvis was at one with her. Somewhat to my surprise they seemed to see -nothing in the situation but what was pleasant. -</p> - -<p> -Miss Blyth’s attitude was one of frank delight. She had never known -Mr. Batters’ personally; all she knew of him was to the disadvantage -of his character. She was enraptured by the prospect of a fortune and -a house. It seemed she had a lover. In her mind, fortune, house, and -lover were associated in a delightful jumble. She did not appear to -realise that the acceptance of the fortune, if the attached conditions -were to stand, meant the practical ostracising of the lover. Nor, at -the instant, did I feel called upon to go out of the way to make the -whole position plain to her understanding. It would have meant the -spoiling of the happiest hour she had known. -</p> - -<p> -Miss Purvis enjoyed what she regarded as her friend’s good luck to the -full as much as if it had been her own. It was delightful to see her. -I had plucked up courage enough to observe her so long as she did not -know that I was doing so. The moment she became conscious of my -scrutiny, my eyes, metaphorically, sank into my boots; actually they -wandered round the room, as if the apartment had been strange to me. -When she proposed to become Miss Blyth’s companion in that horrible -house in Camford Street my heart thumped against my ribs in such a -manner that I became positively ashamed. -</p> - -<p> -Was I a lawyer, the mere mechanical exponent of an accidental -situation, or was I the intimate of a lifetime? I had to ask myself -the question. What right had I to throw obstacles in the way, to -prevent her doing her friend a service? What right had I to even hint -that she might be running a risk in doing her that service? My fears -might be—were—purely imaginary. So far they certainly had no -foundation in fact. They resembled nothing so much as the nervous -fancies of some timorous old woman. It might be ruinous to my -professional reputation to breathe a syllable which would point to -their existence. People do not want shivery-shakery fools for lawyers. -These two young women knew as much—and as little—about the house as -I did. If they chose to live in it, let them. It was their affair, not -mine. They plainly regarded the prospective tenancy as an excellent -jest. I tried to persuade myself that I had no doubt whatever that -that was just what they would find it. -</p> - -<p> -So they entered into the occupation of No. 84 Camford Street. I went -with them and saw them enter. It was a curious process, that of entry; -an unreasonably, unnaturally curious process. It should be necessary -to enter no honest house like that. The first step suggested, -possibly, that something unsavoury was concealed within, which it was -necessary, at all and any cost, to keep hidden from the light of day. -</p> - -<p> -When they were in, and the door was closed, and they had gone from -sight, an icy finger seemed to be pressed against my spine. I shivered -as with cold. An almost irresistible longing possessed me to batter at -the door and compel them to come out. But I had not sufficient courage -to write myself down an ass. -</p> - -<p> -Instead, I rode home in the cab which had brought us to the house to -which I had taken so cordial a disrelish, oppressed by a sense of -horrible foreboding which weighed upon my brain nearly to the point of -stupefaction. -</p> - -<p> -“Before I go to bed to-night,” I told myself, “I’ll take a dozen of -somebody or other’s antibilious pills. I had no idea I was so -liverish.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch21"> -CHAPTER XXI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE AGITATION OF MISS PURVIS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">That</span> bachelor’s balm, a night at a music hall, was of no avail in -diverting my mind from the house in Camford Street. In the body I -might be present at a vocal rendering of the latest things in comic -songs; in the spirit I was the other side of the water. Before the -night was over I was there physically, too. -</p> - -<p> -As the ten o’clock “turn” was coming on, and the brilliancy of the -entertainment was supposed to have reached high-water mark, I walked -down the stairs of the Cerulean and out into the street. I strolled -down the Haymarket without any clear idea of where I meant to go. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re an ass,” I told myself. “An ass, sir! If you’d stopped to see -Pollie Floyd she’d have driven the cobwebs out of your head. You pay -five shillings for a seat, and when, at last, there is going to be -something worth looking at, and listening to, you get out of it, and -throw away your money. At this time of night, where do you think -you’re going?” -</p> - -<p> -I knew all the time, although even to myself I did not choose to -confess it—Camford Street. I made for it as straight as I could. It -was past half-past ten when I got there. The street was nearly all in -darkness. The public-houses were open; but, as they were not of the -resplendent order, they were of but little use as illuminants. Mr. -Kennard’s establishment was shut. Lights were visible in but few of -the houses. No. 84, in the prevailing shadows, looked black as pitch. -If the two girls had been obedient to the injunctions laid down in Mr. -Batters’ will—and that first night, at any rate, they would have -hardly ventured to contravene them—they were long since within doors. -Doing what? Asleep? Were both of them asleep? I wondered, if she was -awake, what occupied her thoughts? Was she thinking of—the person in -the street? -</p> - -<p> -Too ridiculous! Absurd! It is amazing of what crass stupidity even the -wisest men are capable. Why should a girl who was a perfect stranger, -be thinking, whether awake or sleeping, at that hour of the night, of -an individual who had been brought into accidental business -association, on one occasion only, with a friend of hers? I kept on -putting such-like brain-splitting questions to myself. Without avail. -I simply shirked them. I only hoped. That was all. -</p> - -<p> -I had some nonsensical notion of hammering at the front door to see -what would happen. But as I was unable to perceive what could result, -except possible scandal—suppose they were in bed! they might think I -was burglars, or Mr. Batters’ ghost—I held my hand. I was not too far -gone to be incapable of realising that frightening a woman into fits -was not the best way of winning her trust and confidence. That she was -of a nervous temperament I thought probable. I like a woman to be -reasonably timorous. -</p> - -<p> -What might have been expected happened. My persistency in strolling -about, and behaving as if I were a suspicious character, at last -succeeded in arousing the attention of the police. An overcoated -constable strode up to me. I stopped him, feeling that it might be -better for me to open the ball. -</p> - -<p> -“Officer, do you know anything about the house opposite—No. 84?” -</p> - -<p> -He eyed me; apparently arriving at a conclusion that I bore no -conspicuous signs of belonging to the criminal classes. -</p> - -<p> -“We call it the haunted house.” -</p> - -<p> -“Haunted? Why haunted?” -</p> - -<p> -It was a horrible idea that she should be sleeping alone, or as good -as alone, in a house which bore the reputation of being haunted. Not -that I placed any credence in such rubbish myself, but when she was -concerned it was a different matter. -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t say why; but it’s known as such, in the force, and, I -believe, among the people in the neighbourhood.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah! Well, officer, two friends of mine—ladies—young ladies—have -taken up their residence at No. 84, and as they’re all alone I shall -be obliged if you’ll keep an eye upon the house. If you see any ghosts -about the place you run ’em in.” -</p> - -<p> -I gave that policeman half-a-crown. I do not know what he thought of -me. I was completely conscious that if I continued to placate members -of the constabulary force with two-and-sixpence each I should not find -the Batters’ connection a lucrative one. It was all owing to the state -of mind I was in. To have remained in her immediate neighbourhood I -would have showered half-crowns. -</p> - -<p> -Yet I tore myself away, and went straight home to bed. Hardly to -sleep, for such slumber as visited my eyes was troubled by strange -imaginings. It would be incorrect to say that all night I dreamed of -her, for most of my dreams took the shape of nightmare visitations; -but I do not hesitate to affirm that they were caused by her. I had -not been troubled by such things for years. If she was not the cause -of them, what was? -</p> - -<p> -I awoke at some most unseemly hour. Since sleep was evidently at an -end I concluded that it might be as well to have done with what had -been, for the first time for many nights, a bed of discomfort. So I -arose and dressed. It was a fine morning. I could see that the sun was -shining, even from my window. I concluded that I would put into -execution a resolution which I had often formed, and as often broken, -of going for a walk before breakfast. One is constantly being -told—for the most part by people who know nothing about it—how -beautiful London is in the early morning sun. -</p> - -<p> -So soon as I was in Fleet Street I saw something which I had certainly -not expected to see, at least, not there, just then—Miss Purvis. -Fleet Street was deserted; she was the only living thing to be seen; -the sight of her nearly took me off my feet. She had been in my -thoughts. Her sudden, instant presence was like the miraculous -materialisation of some telepathic vision. I felt as if I had heard -her calling me, and had come. -</p> - -<p> -She was distant some fifty yards, and was coming towards me. I was at -once struck by the air of wildness which was about her. It moved me -strangely. She was not attired for the street, having on neither hat -nor bonnet, jacket or gloves. Her hair was in disorder. She looked as -if she had been in some singular affray. My heart jumped so within my -breast that I had, perforce, to stand as if I had been rooted to the -ground. Conscience-stricken, I railed at myself for not having, last -night, broken down the door, instead of lounging idly in the street. -All the while, I knew that there was something wrong. I owned it now, -though I had been reluctant to admit it then. -</p> - -<p> -I think she saw me as soon as I saw her. At sight of me she broke into -a little tremulous run, swaying from side to side, as if she was so -weak that her feet were not entirely under her own control. It was -pitiful to watch. Tearing myself from where I seemed to be rooted, I -ran to her. I had reached her in less than half-a-dozen seconds. When -I was close, stretching out her hands, she cried, in a faint little -voice:— -</p> - -<p> -“It’s you! it’s you! Oh, Mr. Paine!” -</p> - -<p> -She did not throw herself into my arms, she had not so much strength; -she sank into them, and was still. I saw that she had fainted. -</p> - -<p> -I bore her to my rooms. It was the least that I could do. No one was -in sight. And though, no doubt, some straggler might have soon -appeared, I could not tell what kind of person it might prove to be. -I could hardly keep her out there in the street awaiting the advent of -some quite possibly undesirable stranger, even had I been willing, -which I was not. Lifting her in my arms, I carried her to my chambers. -</p> - -<p> -Not once did she move. She was limp as some lay figure. I laid her on -the couch. So far as I could judge, at first she did not breathe. -Then, all at once, she sighed; a tremblement seemed to go all over -her. I expected her to open her eyes, and see me there. I felt as if I -had been guilty of I knew not what, and feared to meet her accusatory -glances. But instead she lay quite still, though I could see that her -bosom rose and fell, moved by gentle respirations. My blood boiled as -I wondered what could have made her cheek so white. -</p> - -<p> -On a sudden her eyes unclosed. For some seconds she looked neither to -the right nor left. She seemed to be considering the ceiling. Then, -with a start, she turned and saw me. -</p> - -<p> -“Where am I?” she exclaimed. -</p> - -<p> -“You are safe in my chambers. You know who I am, do you not?” -</p> - -<p> -“You are Mr. Paine. Oh, Mr. Paine!” -</p> - -<p> -She began to cry. Turning from me, she buried her face in the cushion. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Purvis! What is wrong? What is the matter? Tell me what has -happened.” -</p> - -<p> -She continued to cry, her sobs shaking her whole frame. I was -beginning to be conscious that the situation was a more delicate one -than had at first appeared. After all, the girl was but a stranger to -me. I had not the slightest right to attempt to offer her consolation. -I remembered to have read somewhere that you ought to know a man -intimately for fifteen years before presuming to poke his fire. If -that were the case the imagination failed to picture how long a man -ought to be acquainted with a girl before venturing to try, with the -aid of a pocket handkerchief, to dry her tears. -</p> - -<p> -She kept on crying. It was a severe trial to one’s more or less misty -sense of what etiquette demanded. Ought I to remain to be a witness of -her tears? She might not like it. She might, very reasonably, resent -being practically compelled to exhibit her grief in the presence of a -stranger. On the other hand, to leave her alone to, as it were, cry it -out, might be regarded, from certain points of view, as the acme of -brutality. What I should have liked to have done would have been to -take her in my arms, and comfort her as if she had been a child. In -the midst of my bewilderment it irritated me to think of the asinine -notions which would enter my head. Did I, I inquired of myself, wish -to make an enemy, a righteous enemy, of the girl for life? -</p> - -<p> -I tried the effect of another inquiry. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Purvis, I—I wish you would tell me what has happened.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie!” -</p> - -<p> -That was all she said; and that utterance was so blurred by a choking -gasp as to render it uncertain if that was what she had said. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie? Who is Pollie?” -</p> - -<p> -Quite possibly my tone was one of dubiety. Either that or the question -itself affected her in a fashion which surprised me. She stopped as -suddenly as if the fountain of her tears had been worked by some -automatic attachment. Raising herself slightly from the couch, she -looked at me, her eyes swollen with weeping. -</p> - -<p> -“Pollie? You ask me who is Pollie? And you’re her lawyer!” -</p> - -<p> -“Her lawyer?—Pollie’s——? You’re not referring to Miss——? Of -course, how stupid of me! I had forgotten that Miss Blyth’s Christian -name was Mary. I suppose that by her friends she is known as Pollie. I -hope that nothing has happened to Miss Blyth.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you think that I should be here if nothing had happened to -Pollie?” -</p> - -<p> -The question was put with an amount of vigour which, in one so -fragile, was almost surprising. I was delighted to see in her such a -renewal of vigour. It made me feel more at my ease. -</p> - -<p> -“I am only too fortunate, Miss Purvis, whatever the object of your -visit. If you will permit me I will get you a cup of tea; that’s what -you’re wanting. I live so much alone I’m accustomed to do all sorts of -things for myself. Here’s a gas stove; in five minutes the water will -be boiling; you shall have your tea. It will do you an immensity of -good.” -</p> - -<p> -I had always understood that girls liked tea. But, as I moved about -the room, preparing to set the kettle on the stove, she stared at me -with an apparent want of comprehension. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you suppose that I’ve come through the streets like this just to -get a cup of tea?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind for the moment why you’ve come, Miss Purvis; the great -thing is that you have come. Tea first: explanation afterwards. If you -take my advice you’ll let that be the order of procedure. Nothing like -a good brew to promote clarity of exposition.” -</p> - -<p> -I lit the stove. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Paine! Mr. Paine!” -</p> - -<p> -She jumped off the couch in quite a passion of excitement. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Miss Purvis, I do beg you will control yourself. I give you my -word that in less than five minutes the water will be boiling.” -</p> - -<p> -She stamped her foot; rage certainly became her. -</p> - -<p> -“You keep talking about your tea, when Pollie’s killed!” -</p> - -<p> -“Killed—Miss Purvis! You don’t mean that Miss Blyth is—killed?” -</p> - -<p> -“She is!—or something awful—and worse!” -</p> - -<p> -“But”—I placed the kettle on the stove to free my hand—“let me -understand you plainly. Do you wish to be taken literally when you say -that Miss Blyth is—killed?” -</p> - -<p> -“If she isn’t she will be soon.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid I must ask you to be a little plainer. Where is Miss -Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -“She’s in one of Bluebeard’s Chambers?” -</p> - -<p> -I began to wonder if her mind was wandering. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid that I still don’t——” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the name she gave them. In that dreadful house in Camford -Street there are two rooms locked up, and Pollie’s in one.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see.” I did not, though, at the same time, I fancied that I began -to perceive a dim glimmer of light. “But if, as you say, the rooms -were locked, how did she get in, and what happened to her when she was -in?” -</p> - -<p> -In reply Miss Purvis poured out a series of disjointed statements -which I experienced some difficulty in following, and more in -reconciling. As I listened, in spite of her manifold attractions, I -could not but feel that if she should figure in the witness box, in a -case in which I was concerned, I would rather that she gave evidence -for the other side. -</p> - -<p> -“That house was full of wickedness!” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed. In what sense?” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s a woman in it!” -</p> - -<p> -“A woman? There is a woman? Then that’s all right.” -</p> - -<p> -“All right?” -</p> - -<p> -“I was afraid there wouldn’t be another woman.” -</p> - -<p> -“Afraid! Women are ever so much worse than men. And she’s—awful. She -says she’s the daughter of the gods.” -</p> - -<p> -“A little wanting, perhaps.” -</p> - -<p> -I touched my head. Apparently Miss Purvis did not catch the allusion. -</p> - -<p> -“Wanting! She’s wanting in everything she ought to have. She’s—she’s -not to be described. I thought she was rats.” -</p> - -<p> -“You thought she was rats?” -</p> - -<p> -“The house is full of them—in swarms! They’d have eaten me—picked -the flesh off my bones!—if I’d given them the chance.” -</p> - -<p> -I was becoming more and more persuaded that agitation had been too -much for her. I had never encountered a case of a person being eaten -alive by rats, except the leading one of Bishop Hatto in his rat tower -on the Rhine, and that was scarcely quotable. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Miss Purvis, the kettle is just on the boil. I do beg you’ll -have a cup of tea before we go any further.” -</p> - -<p> -“With Pollie lying dead?” -</p> - -<p> -“But is she lying dead?” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe she’s eaten!” -</p> - -<p> -“Eaten?—by rats?” -</p> - -<p> -There was a dryness in my tone which was, perhaps, rather more -significant than I had intended. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you laughing at me?—Are you—laughing at me?” -</p> - -<p> -She repeated her inquiry for the second time with a great sob in her -voice, which made me realise what a brute I was. -</p> - -<p> -“I am very far from laughing. I am only anxious that you should not -make yourself ill.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’re not! you’re not!” She stamped her foot again. I gazed at her -with admiration. She was the first beautiful woman I remembered to -have seen whose personal appearance was positively improved by getting -into a temper. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re laughing at me all the time; you haven’t a spark of human -feeling in you!” This was an outrageous charge. At that moment I would -have given a great part of what I possessed to have been able to take -her in my arms. “What I’ve endured this night no tongue can tell, no -pen describe. I’ve gone through enough to make my hair turn white. -Hasn’t it turned white?” -</p> - -<p> -“It certainly hasn’t. It’s lovely hair.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lovely——?” She stopped, to look at me; seeing something in my -countenance—she alone knew what it was—which made her put her hands -up to her face, and burst again into tears. “Oh, Mr. Paine!” -</p> - -<p> -My name, as it came from her lips, was a wail which cut me to the -heart. Her agitation was making me agitated too. I had only one -resource. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Miss Purvis, this kettle is really boiling.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you say another word about that kettle I’ll knock it over!” -</p> - -<p> -The small virago was facing me, the tears running down her cheeks, her -small fists clenched, as if, on that point at least, she was capable -of being as good as her word. -</p> - -<p> -“Knock it over by all means, Miss Purvis, if it pleases you. I—I only -want to give you pleasure.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Paine!” -</p> - -<p> -Up went her hands again. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t do that. I—I can’t bear to see you cry.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then why are you so unkind?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know; it’s my stupidity, I suppose; it’s far from my -intention to be unkind.” -</p> - -<p> -“I know! I know! I’m a nothing and a nobody; an impertinent creature -who has come to bother you with a tale which you don’t believe, and -which wouldn’t interest you if you did; and so you just make fun of -me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t say that; not that. Don’t say that to me you are a nothing and -a nobody.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am! I am!” -</p> - -<p> -“You are not.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then, why do you treat me as you do?” -</p> - -<p> -“Treat you! How do I treat you? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for -you—nothing!” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Paine!” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Purvis!” -</p> - -<p> -I do not know how it happened. I protest, in cold blood, and in black -and white, that I have no idea. But, on a sudden, I found that I had -my arms about her. A moment before I had no intention of doing -anything of the kind—that I swear. And I can only suppose that it was -because, in her agitation, she really did not know what was happening, -that she allowed her head to rest against my breast. -</p> - -<p> -It was while it was there that a voice said, proceeding from the -neighbourhood of the door:— -</p> - -<p> -“This is a bit of all right; but where do I come in?” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch22"> -CHAPTER XXII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">LUKE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I have</span> only to point out that, despite the interruption, Miss Purvis -continued in the same position, without making the slightest effort to -disengage herself, to make it clear that she, to at least a certain -extent, was unconscious of her surroundings. For my part I held her -somewhat closer, so that I might act as a more efficient protection -against I knew not what. -</p> - -<p> -Glancing in the direction from which the voice had come I perceived -that a distinctly disreputable individual had intruded himself, -uninvited, into the room. He was a tall, shambling fellow, with a -chronic stoop, extending even to the neighbourhood of his knees. His -attire consisted of a variety of odds and ends, all of them -emphatically the worse for wear. A dirty cloth cap, apparently a size -too small, was stuck at the back of his head. His black, greasy hair -formed a ragged, uneven fringe upon his forehead, reaching in one -place nearly to the top of his long, pointed nose. His mouth was too -wide for his face, which was narrow. As he stood there with it open, -in what I presume he intended for a friendly grin, the fact was -revealed that seemingly every alternate tooth in his head was missing. -Even in that moment of agitation I could not help mentally noting that -I had never seen such a collection of fangs in one man’s head before. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean, sir, coming in without knocking?” -</p> - -<p> -“What do I mean? That’s what I’m here to tell you. And as for -knocking, I did knock, with my knuckles; but you was too much engaged -to notice my modest knock; so, seeing the door was open, I just come -in.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you’ll just go out again; and sharp’s the word.” -</p> - -<p> -While the fellow was speaking, Miss Purvis, awaking, for the first -time, to a sense of her delicate position, drew herself away from me. -Turning, she stared at the intruder. -</p> - -<p> -“Sharp’s the word, is it? That’s how it may be. Anyhow, it don’t apply -to me, because I’m here on business.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then come in business hours. I don’t receive clients at this time of -day. Don’t you see that I’m engaged?” -</p> - -<p> -“Engaged, are you? That’s as it should be. I congratulate you. -Likewise the young lady, for having won so outspoken a young -gentleman; and one that’s well spoken of, from all I hear.” -</p> - -<p> -Whether the fellow was intentionally impertinent I could not tell. It -was uncommonly awkward for both of us. Miss Purvis went scarlet. I -felt like knocking him down. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, then, out you go!” -</p> - -<p> -“Softly! softly! You listen to me before the band begins to play. I -don’t allow no one to lay hands on me without laying of ’em back -again.” -</p> - -<p> -The fellow extended, to ward me off, a pair of enormously long arms. -Observing them, I realised that if he would only hold himself upright -his height would be gigantic. I am no bantam; yet as I considered his -evident suppleness, and sinewy build, I thought it possible that in -him I had met my match. Anyhow, I did not wish to indulge in a -rough-and-tumble before Miss Purvis. -</p> - -<p> -“Who are you? And what do you want?” -</p> - -<p> -“What I want first of all is to know who you are. Are you Mr. Frank -Paine?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m told that you’re making inquiries about a party named Batters; -now I’m making inquiries about a party named Batters, too; and if you -was to tell me what you know, I might tell you what I know.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are quite right, I have been inquiring for a person of the name -of Batters. And if you will come again, say, between ten and eleven, I -shall be glad to hear what you have to say. By that time I shall be -disengaged.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll be disengaged, will you? That’s hard on the young lady. -Engaged to her at seven, and disengaged between ten and eleven, all of -the same day.” -</p> - -<p> -“Look here, my man!” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m looking, Mr. Paine, I’m looking; and I do hope I’m looking milder -nor what you are. May I make so bold as to ask if this young lady’s -name is Blyth?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is not.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t hardly seem natural for a -beautiful young lady like she is to be grafted from a stock like that. -Lovely is what I call her, downright lovely.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Mr. Paine!” -</p> - -<p> -Miss Purvis held out her hand. I took it. -</p> - -<p> -“If you suppose because I have borne with you so far I will bear with -you much further, you’re mistaken. If you take my advice, you’ll be -careful.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s right, sir; that’s quite right. Careful’s the lay for me.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you have anything to say, be quick about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I do happen to have something which I wish to say, and that’s a -fact; but as for quickness I’m afraid that I’m not naturally so quick -as perhaps you might desire.” He stopped, to regard me with his bold, -yet shifty eyes, as if he were endeavouring to ascertain what sort of -person I might be. When he spoke again it was to put a question for -which I was unprepared. “Where’s Batters?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Batters—if you are referring to the late Mr. Benjamin -Batters—is dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“Dead? Oh! Late, is he? Ah! He was the sort to die early, was Batters. -Where might he happen to have died?” -</p> - -<p> -“On Great Ka Island.” -</p> - -<p> -“Great Ka Island? Ah! And where might that be?” -</p> - -<p> -“On the other side of the world.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s some way off, isn’t it? Most unfortunate. I take it most -uncivil of Batters to go and die in a place like that. Especially when -I should like to have a look at his grave. You don’t happen to know -where it is.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not, except that I have been given to understand that he was -buried where he died.” -</p> - -<p> -“That so? He would be. In the local cemetery, with the flowers growing -all around. In a nice deep grave with a stone on top to keep him from -getting out of it, and some words cut on it, like ‘He lies in peace.’ -There’s no doubt about his lying, anyhow, I’ll take my oath to that.” -He emitted a sound which might have been meant for a chuckle. It -startled Miss Purvis. “You don’t happen to know when he died?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not know the precise date, but it was at any rate some three or -four months ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s odd, very. Because, as it happens, I was with him some three -or four months ago, and I never saw nothing about him that looked like -dying. So far from dying, he was lively, uncommon; fleas wasn’t in it -with the liveliness of Batters. And to think that he should have died -with me looking at him all the time, and yet knowing nothing at all -about it. It shows you that there is such things as miracles.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do I understand you to say that three months ago you were in the -company of Mr. Batters?” -</p> - -<p> -“I was. And likewise four months ago. And I hope to be in his company -again before long, dead or alive. It won’t be my fault if I’m not; you -may go the lot on that.” -</p> - -<p> -There was something about the fellow which struck me as peculiar; it -was not alone his impudence, which belonged to another sort of -singularity. There seemed to be a covert meaning in his manner and his -words. I turned to Miss Purvis. -</p> - -<p> -“If you don’t mind I think I will hear what this person has to say; it -may be of importance to your friend. If you will allow me to leave you -here, I think I may arrive quicker at his meaning if I am alone with -him.” -</p> - -<p> -She signified her consent. I led the way into the office. Without -showing in any way that he objected, the stranger followed. -</p> - -<p> -“Now my man, let us understand each other as clearly as we can, and -keep to the point as closely as you are able. What’s your name?” -</p> - -<p> -“Luke.” -</p> - -<p> -“Luke what?” -</p> - -<p> -“Luke nothing. I’m known to those who knew me best as St. Luke, after -the apostle, being of saintlike character, but in general Luke’s name -enough for me. They was modest where I come from.” -</p> - -<p> -“What are you?” -</p> - -<p> -“A sailor man, late of the good ship <i>Flying Scud</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>The Flying Scud</i>?” I stared at him askance, not certain that I had -caught the name correctly. That particular ship seemed in the air. -“Then do you know Captain Lander?” -</p> - -<p> -As I asked the question his manner changed. It became suspicious. -Thrusting his thumbs into his waistcoat armholes he eyed me warily, as -if he had all at once been put upon his guard. -</p> - -<p> -“Now how much do you know about it?” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean? How much do I know about what?” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s Captain Lander told you about me?” -</p> - -<p> -“About you? To me Captain Lander has never so much as mentioned your -name.” -</p> - -<p> -A sudden wild thought came into my head. “Are you—are you Benjamin -Batters?” -</p> - -<p> -The fellow’s mouth opened so wide I could see right down his throat. -</p> - -<p> -“Me Benjamin Batters! Good Lord! What made you ask me such a thing as -that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Are you? Are you?” As I watched I doubted more and more. “I believe -you are.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not. Good Lord! You ask Captain Lander if I am. You said yourself -just now that he was dead and buried.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you hinted that he was not, but that he was still alive.” -</p> - -<p> -Putting his hand up to his brow he brushed the fringe of hair -partially aside, glancing furtively about the room. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s as may be; that’s another matter altogether. But I don’t like -your asking me if I was Batters. No man would. Have you ever seen -him?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never; unless I see him now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Meaning me? I never came across such a man. What do you mean by -keeping on asking if I’m Batters? What are you driving at? I won’t -have it, whatever it is. Why Batters——” He stopped: then second -thoughts appearing best, changed from heat to cold. “Batters was not -my sort at all.” -</p> - -<p> -The man’s manner puzzled me. -</p> - -<p> -“What was there about Benjamin Batters which makes you resent any -comparison with him?” -</p> - -<p> -He hesitated, putting up his fingers to scratch his head, visibly -perturbed. -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, but I came here to put a question or two, not to answer -any. If you’d told me at the first that Captain Lander was a friend of -yours, I should have taken myself off straightway, like as I’m going -to now.” -</p> - -<p> -I stepped between him and the door. -</p> - -<p> -“No you don’t. You stopped at the beginning to please yourself; now -you’ll remain a little longer to please me. Before you leave this room -you’ll give me satisfactory answers to one or two questions.” -</p> - -<p> -“Who says I will?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do. If you decline I send for a policeman. Then I think you’ll find -yourself in Queer Street.” -</p> - -<p> -His disturbance obviously increased. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Mr. Paine, I’ve done nothing to you to make you behave nasty to -me. If I made a mistake in coming here to make a few inquiries I -apologise, and no man can do more than that, so there’s no harm done -to either side.” -</p> - -<p> -“Was Batters your shipmate?” -</p> - -<p> -“My shipmate?” -</p> - -<p> -“Was he an officer or member of the crew on board <i>The Flying Scud</i>?” -</p> - -<p> -“My gracious, no!” -</p> - -<p> -“He was on <i>The Flying Scud</i>?” -</p> - -<p> -“He might have been.” -</p> - -<p> -“As passenger?” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>The Flying Scud’s</i> a cargo boat; she don’t carry no passengers.” -</p> - -<p> -“If he was neither officer, sailor, nor passenger, in what capacity -was he there?” -</p> - -<p> -“You ask Captain Lander, he was in command, not me. I’ve had enough of -this bullyragging. You let me go before there’s trouble.” -</p> - -<p> -“Gently, my man, gently! Now, come, be frank with me. What is the -mystery about Benjamin Batters? I see there is one.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s more than I can tell you, straight it is. I wish it wasn’t. If -you was to ask me I should say he was all mystery, Batters was.” -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose he was a man?” -</p> - -<p> -“A man?” The inquiry, suggested by the fashion in which he persisted -in shuffling with my questions, had an odd effect upon my visitor. He -glanced from side to side, and up and down, as if desirous, at any -cost, to avoid meeting my eye. “It depends on what you call a man.” -</p> - -<p> -“You know very well what I call a man. Was he a man in the sense that -you and I are men?” -</p> - -<p> -He shuddered. -</p> - -<p> -“The Lord forbid that I should be in any way like him; the Lord -forbid!” -</p> - -<p> -“I observed him narrowly, at a loss to make him out. That there was -something very curious about Benjamin Batters I was becoming more and -more persuaded. I had as little doubt that my visitor had at least -some knowledge of what it was. Equally obvious, however, was the fact -that he had reasons of his own for concealing what he knew. How I -could compel him to make a confidant of me against his will I failed -to see. I tried another tack. -</p> - -<p> -“You say that you were in Batters’ company three months ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“I might have been.” -</p> - -<p> -“How long ago is it since you last saw him?” -</p> - -<p> -“I couldn’t exactly say.” -</p> - -<p> -“Where did you last see him?” -</p> - -<p> -“Where?” He looked round and round the room, as if seeking for -information. Then the fashion of his countenance changed, an ugly look -came on it. “I’m not going to tell you when I saw him last, nor where. -It’s no business of yours. You mind your own business, and leave mine -alone. And as for your policeman, I don’t care for no policeman. Why -should I? I’m an honest man. So you get out of my way and let me pass; -and that’s all about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Have you seen Benjamin Batters within the month?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never you mind!” -</p> - -<p> -“Your words are a sufficient answer. I believe that you have been -conspiring with Benjamin Batters with fraudulent intent. If you do not -furnish me with abundant proof that my suspicions are unfounded I -shall summon a constable, and give you into custody upon that charge.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a piece of pure bluff upon my part, which failed. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the time of the day, is it? I’ve been conspiring with him, -have I? What have I been conspiring about?” -</p> - -<p> -“I have no doubt that that is a point on which Captain Lander will be -able to show more than sufficient light.” -</p> - -<p> -My words had at last struck home. What lent them especial weight I -could not even guess. But that they had moved him more than anything -which had gone before his behaviour showed. -</p> - -<p> -“He will, will he? So that’s the game you’re after. You’re a lawyer, -and I’m a poor, silly sailor man, so you think you can play just what -tricks with me you please. But there’s something else Captain Lander -can tell you if you ask him, and that’s that I can be disagreeable -when I’m crossed, and if you don’t move away from that door inside a -brace of shakes I’m going to be disagreeable now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t threaten me, my man.” -</p> - -<p> -“Threaten?” -</p> - -<p> -His tone suggested that he scorned being thought capable of -threatening only, and his action proved it. -</p> - -<p> -He came at me with a suddenness for which I was unprepared. Putting -his arms about me while I was still unready he lifted me off my feet. -As he was still holding me aloft, crooking my leg inside his, I bore -on him with all my might, and brought him with a crash to the floor. -Although he lay underneath, his arms still retained their grip. -</p> - -<p> -While I hesitated whether to attack the man in earnest or to -remonstrate with him instead—for Miss Purvis might at any moment look -in, and then a nice opinion she would have of me—someone standing -behind slipped what seemed to be a cord over my head, and drew it so -tight about my throat that in an instant I was all but choked. When, -gasping for breath, I put up my hand to free myself, it was drawn -still tighter. So tight indeed that not only did it cut like a knife, -but I felt as if my tongue was being torn out of my mouth, and I lost -all consciousness. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch23"> -CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE TRIO RETURN.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">How</span> long I remained unconscious I could not say. When I did come to, -during some seconds I was unable to realise my position. It was like -waking out of an uncomfortably heavy sleep. Consciousness returned by -degrees, and painfully; as it were, by a series of waves, which were -like so many shocks. I was oppressed by nausea, my eyes were dim, my -brain seemed reeling, as if it were making disconcerting efforts to -retain its equilibrium. It was some time before I understood that I -was still in my own room; yet, longer before I had some faint -comprehension of the situation I was in, and of what was taking place -about me. -</p> - -<p> -It was probably some minutes before I completely understood that I was -trussed like a fowl, and that the exquisite pain which I was enduring -was because of the tightness and ingenuity of my bonds. I was on the -floor with my back against the wall. Cords which were about my wrists -were attached to my ankles, passed up my back, then round my throat, -so that each movement I made I bade fair to choke myself. It was a -diabolical contrivance. The cords were thin ones—red-hot wires they -seemed to me to be, they cut my wrists like knives, and burned them as -with fire. My legs were drawn under my body in an unnatural and -uncomfortable position. They were torn by cramp, yet whenever I made -the slightest attempt to ease them I dragged at the cord which was -about my throat. One thing seemed plain, if the worst came to the -worst I should experience no difficulty in committing suicide. -Apparently I had only to let my head forward to be strangled. -</p> - -<p> -By way of making the condition of affairs entirely satisfactory -something sharp had been forced into my mouth, which not only acted as -a gag, effectually preventing my uttering a sound, but which made it -difficult for me to breathe. That it was cutting me was made plain by -the blood which I was compelled to swallow. -</p> - -<p> -As I have said, it was not at first that I had a clear perception of -the personal plight that I was in. When it dawned on me at last I had -a morbid satisfaction in learning that I was not alone in it. Someone -so close on the left as to be almost touching me was in a similar -plight. It was St. Luke. I had mistily imagined that that seafaring -associate of the more and more mysterious Benjamin Batters had been in -some way responsible for my misadventure. Not a bit of it. I had -wronged the honest man. So far as I could perceive, his plight was an -exact reproduction of my own. The same attention had been paid to his -physical comfort; only apparently the gag had been so placed in his -mouth as to leave him more freedom to gasp, and to grunt, and to -groan. -</p> - -<p> -Who, then, was responsible for this pretty performance? What man, or -men, had I so wronged as to be deserving this return? The problem was -a nice one. I looked for the solution. -</p> - -<p> -I found it, and, in doing so, found also something else, which filled -me with such a tumult of passion that I actually momentarily forgot -the egregious position I was in. -</p> - -<p> -Miss Purvis had been served as I had been. -</p> - -<p> -She had either, wondering at my delay, or startled by the noise, -peeped into the office, and so disturbed the ruffians at their work; -or the miscreants, penetrating into the inner room, had found her -there and dragged her out. However it had been, there she was, trussed -and gagged against the wall upon my right. They had shown no respect -for a woman, but had handled her precisely as they had done St. Luke -and me. My brain felt as if it would have burst as I thought of the -indignity with which they must have used her, and of the agony, mental -and bodily, she must have endured, and be enduring still. Her -face—her pretty face!—was white as the sheet of paper on which I -write. Her eyes—her lovely eyes!—were closed. I hoped that she had -fainted, and so was oblivious of suffering and shame. Yet, as I -watched her utter stillness, I half feared she might be dead. -</p> - -<p> -The gentlemen who were responsible for this pleasant piece of work -were three. They were there before me in plain sight. It was with an -odd sense that it was just what I had expected that I recognised the -trio who had already paid me a visit in the silent watches of the -night. There was the imposing, elderly, bald-headed gentleman, who -represented length without breadth; there, also, were his two -attendant satellites. How to account for their assiduous interest in -my unpretending office was beyond my power. Nor did I understand why -it should have been necessary to use quite such drastic measures -against the lady, St. Luke, and myself. Still less—I admit it -frankly—when I observed their conspicuous lack of avoirdupois, did I -gather how they had managed to make of us so easy a prey. Under -ordinary conditions I should have been quite willing to take the three -on single-handed. The truth probably was that St. Luke and I had -unwittingly played into their dexterous hands. Had we not been engaged -in matching ourselves against each other we should have been more than -a match for them. But when they came in, and found the sailor man upon -the floor prisoning me close within his arms, all they had to do was -to slip one cord round my throat, and another round his. We were at -their mercy. No man can show much fight when he is being strangled; -especially when the job is in the hands of a skilled practitioner. -Never mind what the theory is, that is the teaching of experience. -</p> - -<p> -What they wanted, with so much anxiety, in my office, I was unable to -guess. They had already purloined the God of Fortune. -</p> - -<p> -Stay! It had been returned to me again. I had dropped it on the floor; -been unable to find it. Could it be that they were after it a second -time. I wondered. What peculiar significance, what attribute, could -that small plaything have? -</p> - -<p> -Beyond doubt they were treating my belongings with scant regard for -the feelings of their owner? If they failed to find what they were -seeking it would not be for want of a thorough quest. Pretty well -everything the apartment contained they subjected to a minute -examination. They allowed nothing to escape them. It was delightful to -watch them. If I had been suffering a little less physical -inconvenience I should have enjoyed myself immensely. They might be -Orientals; but if they were not professional burglars in their own -country then they ought to have been. They were artists any way. -</p> - -<p> -To note one point—there was such order in their methods. They began -at one corner of the room, and they worked right round it, emptying -boxes, turning out drawers, pulling the books out of their covers, and -the stuffing out of the chairs, and the furniture to pieces generally, -in search of secret hiding-places. Then they began tapping at the -walls, tearing off scraps of paper here and there, to see what was -behind. It beat me to imagine what it was that they were after, though -it was flattering to think what a first-rate hand at concealment they -must be taking me to be. Apparently they were under the impression -that a solicitor had plenty of waste time which he occupied by -secreting odds and ends in solid walls. The rapidity with which they -did all they did do was simply astonishing, particularly when one had -to admit with what thoroughness it was done. But when they came to -dragging the carpet up, and tearing boards from the floor, I began to -wonder if they were going through the house piecemeal. -</p> - -<p> -The litter was beyond description. My practice might not have been a -large one, but my papers were many. When a large number of documents -are thrown down anywhere, anyhow, they are apt to look untidy. Even in -that moment of martyrdom I groaned in spirit as I thought of the -labour which their rearrangement would involve. -</p> - -<p> -One mental note I did take; that, despite the eagerness with which -they turned out papers from every possible receptacle, they seemed to -attach to them but scant importance. That they were after something -connected with Mr. Benjamin Batters I had no doubt. Yet they unearthed -the Batters’ papers among the rest—even the Batters’ bonds!—and -tossed them on one side as if they contained nothing which was of -interest to them. If they were able to read English I could not tell, -but every now and then the tall, thin party glanced at a paper as if -it was not altogether Double Dutch to him. -</p> - -<p> -At last, short of pulling the room itself down about their ears, they -had, apparently to their own entire dissatisfaction, exhausted its -resources. There was a pause in the operations. There ensued a -conclave. The elderly gentleman spoke, while, for the most part, the -others listened. What was being said I had no notion. They were -sparing of gesture, so no meaning was conveyed through the eye to the -brain. I am no linguist. My knowledge of Eastern tongues is nil. I did -not know what language they were speaking; had I known I should have -been no wiser. One fact, however, was unmistakable; their words were -accompanied by glances in my direction, which I did not altogether -relish. If ever I saw cruelty written on a human countenance it was on -the faces of those three gentlemen. Theirs was the love of it for its -own sake. Their faces were rather inhuman masks, expressionless, -impassive, unfeeling. It was not difficult to conceive with what -ingenuity they could contrive tortures with which to rack the nerves -of some promising subject. It was easy to believe that they would put -them into practice with the same composure with which they would -observe the sensations of the object of their curious experiments. -</p> - -<p> -I had already had some experience of their skill in more than one -direction, and I did not desire a practical demonstration of it in yet -another. -</p> - -<p> -And for the present I was to be spared the exhibition. It seemed that -they all at once bethought themselves that there were other apartments -of mine which still remained unsearched. Whereupon off they went to -search them. To us they paid no need. Plainly they were sufficiently -acquainted with the good qualities of their handiwork to be aware that -from us they need fear nothing. That we might be able to free -ourselves without assistance was a million to one chance which it was -unnecessary to consider. Until some one came to loose us we were -bound. Of that they were absolutely sure. So they left us there to -keep each other company, and to console each other if we could, while -they went to overhaul the rest of my establishment. It was a pleasant -thought for me to dwell upon. -</p> - -<p> -Miss Purvis’ eyes were open, but that was about the only sign of life -she showed. They wandered once or twice towards me; wandered was just -the word which expressed the look which was in them. Her face was -white and drawn. There was that about it which made me doubt if even -yet she was conscious of what was being done; I wondered if the pain -which she was suffering had taken effect upon her brain. It would not -have been surprising if it had. It was only by dint of a violent and -continued exercise of will that I myself was able to retain, as it -were, a hold upon my senses. There was, first of all, the torture of -the cramped position. Then there was the way in which the cords cut -into the flesh—what particular kind of cords had been used I could -not make out, but I suspected fiddle-strings. Then there was the fact -that the slightest movement made with a view of obtaining relief -threatened not only strangulation but decapitation too. -</p> - -<p> -I wondered what the time was. A laundress, one Mrs. Parsons, was -supposed to arrive at eight. It must be nearly that. I had been up for -hours; I was convinced that it was hours. It must be after eight. If -the woman had any regard for punctuality, at any moment she might -appear. If she did not arrive within five minutes she should be -dismissed. How could she expect to keep my rooms in proper order if -her habits were irregular? I had long wondered how it was my chambers -did not do me so much credit as they might have done; I had an eye for -such things although she might not think it. Now I understood. If Mrs. -Parsons would only have the sense, the honesty, the decency, to keep -to her engagements and come at once, while those scoundrels were -engaged elsewhere, in a moment I should be free. Then I would show -them. -</p> - -<p> -A clock struck seven. It must be wrong. There was a second, third, -fourth, all striking seven. An hour yet before the woman was even due! -And whoever heard of a laundress who was punctual? Before she came -what might not happen? For another hour, at least, we were at the -mercy of these ingenious adventurers. -</p> - -<p> -They reappeared. What havoc they had wrought in the rooms in which I -lived, and moved, and had my being, I could only guess. Either, from -their point of view, they had not done mischief enough, or the result -of what they had done had not been satisfactory. Plainly, they were -discontented. Their manner showed it. The tall gentleman spoke to his -two associates in a tone which suggested disapprobation of their -conduct. They seemed, with all possible humility, to be endeavouring -to show that the fault was not entirely theirs. This he appeared -unwilling to concede. Finally, flopping down on to their knees, -touching the floor with their foreheads, they grovelled at his feet. -So far from being appeased by this show of penitence, putting out his -right foot, he gave each of them a hearty kick. The effect this had on -them was comical. They sprang upright like a pair of automata, -endeavouring to carry themselves as if they had been the recipient of -the highest honours. -</p> - -<p> -The tall gentleman moved towards Miss Purvis. They meekly hung on his -heels. He addressed to them remarks to which they scarcely ventured to -reply. He eyed the lady. Then glanced towards me. I wondered what was -the connection which he supposed existed between us. Something -menacing was in his air. He hovered above the helpless girl as a hawk -might above a pigeon. Stretching out his cruel-looking hand he thrust -it almost in her face. I expected to see her subjected to some fresh -indignity, and felt that, if she were, then rage might give me -strength to break the bonds which shackled me. -</p> - -<p> -If such had been his intention, it was either deferred, or he changed -his mind. He gave a gesture in my direction. Immediately one of his -familiars, advancing, tilted me back with no more compunction than if -I had been an empty beer cask. Thrusting his filthy fingers into my -mouth he dragged out the gag with so much roughness that it tore my -tongue and palate as it passed. Returning me to the position which -suited him best, out of simple wantonness, with the hand which held -the gag he struck me a vigorous blow upon the cheek; so vigorous that, -as it jerked my head on one side it seemed to cause the thong which -was about my throat to nearly sever my head from my shoulders. Even as -he struck me I recognised in my assailant the individual who had -dogged my steps from Camford Street, and whom afterwards I had treated -to a shaking. This was his idea of crying quits. While the blood still -seemed to be whirling before my eyes I said to myself that, if all -went well, to his quittance I would add another score. The last blow -should not be his. -</p> - -<p> -The removal of the gag did not at once restore to me the faculty of -speech. My mouth was bleeding, I was nearly choked by blood. My tongue -was torn, and sore, and swollen. It felt ridiculously large for the -place it was supposed to occupy. Evidently the attenuated gentleman -understood that there were reasons why I should not be expected to -join in conversation until I had been afforded an opportunity to get -the better of my feelings. He stood regarding me, his parchment-like -visage perfectly expressionless, as if he were awaiting the period -when I might be reasonably required to give voice to my emotions. -</p> - -<p> -When, as I take it, he supposed such a time to have arrived, he -addressed me, to my surprise, in English, which was not bad of its -kind. -</p> - -<p> -“Where is the Great Joss?” -</p> - -<p> -I had no notion what he meant. Had I understood him perfectly I should -have been unable to give him the information he required. So soon as I -attempted to speak I found that my tongue refused, literally, to do -its office. I could only produce those mumbling sounds which proceed, -sometimes, from the mouths of those who are dumb. -</p> - -<p> -In his judgment, however, it seemed that I ought already to have -advanced to perfect clarity of utterance. He repeated his inquiry. -</p> - -<p> -“Where is the Great Joss? I am in haste. Tell me quick.” -</p> - -<p> -“Untie my hands and throat.” -</p> - -<p> -That was my reply. The words, as they came from my lips, assumed a -guise in which they could hardly have been recognisable for what they -were meant to be, so inarticulately were they spoken. Whether he -understood them I could not say, he ignored their meaning if he did. -One of his satellites—the one who had struck me—hazarded an -observation, with a deep inclination of his head, but his superior -paid no heed to him whatever. He persisted in his previous inquiry. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me, where is the Great Joss?” -</p> - -<p> -With an effort I mumbled an answer. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know what you mean.” -</p> - -<p> -Evidently the reply did not fall in with his view at all; he -disbelieved it utterly. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me where is the Great Joss, or the woman shall die.” -</p> - -<p> -His meaning was unmistakable. He stretched out his finger towards Miss -Purvis with a gesture. That he was capable of murder I had not the -slightest doubt. That he would make nothing of having an innocent, -unoffending girl tortured to death before my eyes I believed. Fleet -Street might be within a hop, skip, and a jump; but, for the present, -this spot in its immediate neighbourhood was delivered over to the -methods of the East. If I could not afford this monster, who had -sprung from some unknown oriental haunt of merciless fiends, the -satisfaction he demanded, I might expect the worst to happen before -help could come. With him I felt assured that in such matters one -could rely upon the word being followed by the blow. -</p> - -<p> -I made an effort to appease him. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know where your Joss is. It dropped upon the floor.” -</p> - -<p> -My reference, of course, was to the toy which Miss Blyth had given me, -and which, when I had let it fall, I was unable to find. Still my -answer did not seem to be the one he wanted. He scrutinised me in -silence for some seconds before he gave me to understand as much. -</p> - -<p> -“You play with me?” -</p> - -<p> -There was that in his tone which was anything but playful. I made all -possible haste to deny the soft impeachment. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t. Is it the God of Fortune you are after?” -</p> - -<p> -“The God of Fortune? What do you know about the God of Fortune?” -</p> - -<p> -“It was given to me. I let it drop. When I came to look for it I -couldn’t find it anywhere.” -</p> - -<p> -There was something about my reply which he did not like. I was sure -of it by the way in which he spoke, in that unknown tongue, to his -associates. Instantly they approached Miss Purvis, standing one on -either side of her. Their attitude was ominous. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you wish that she shall die?” -</p> - -<p> -I did not. I could scarcely have more strenuously desired that she -should live. As I told him with such clearness of language as I could -muster. Considering all things I was eloquent. -</p> - -<p> -“What it is you want from me I don’t know; consciously I have nothing -which is yours. But you had better understand this, if you are able to -understand anything at all, that only for a minute or two at most are -we in your power. If you want to be let off lightly you will loose -that lady at once; if you harm so much as a hair of her head the law -of England will make you pay for it dearly.” -</p> - -<p> -In reply the fellow was arrogance itself. -</p> - -<p> -“What do we care for your law? What has your law to do with us? Are we -dogs that you should use us as you choose? You have stolen, and have -hidden, the Great Joss. Return him to us; or as you have shamed us so -we will shame you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not only have I not stolen the Great Joss, but I don’t even know what -the Great Joss is. The only Joss I’ve seen was one about the size of -my finger, which, as I’ve told you already, I dropped on the floor, -and couldn’t find.” -</p> - -<p> -“You laugh at us.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not laugh. I am speaking the simple, absolute truth.” -</p> - -<p> -“You lie. The gods have told us that the secret of the hiding-place of -the Great Joss is here. Show it to us quickly, or the woman shall -die.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is your gods who lie, not I.” -</p> - -<p> -The fellow said something to his colleagues. At once, whipping Miss -Purvis from off the floor, just for all the world as if she were a -trussed fowl, they placed her on the table. -</p> - -<p> -“Be careful what you do!” I shouted. -</p> - -<p> -“It is for you to be careful. We come from far across the sea to look -for the Great Joss, which you and yours have stolen, and you make a -mock of us. We are not children that we may be mocked. Give us what is -ours, or we will take what is yours, though we desire it not, and the -woman shall die.” -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you, man, that if anyone has robbed you it isn’t I. I have not -the faintest notion who you are, or what you’re after; and as for your -Great Joss, I’ve not the least idea what a Great Joss is. What I say -is a simple statement of fact; and what reason you suppose yourself to -have for doubting me is beyond my comprehension.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is your answer?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t speak as if you suspected me of a deliberate intention to -deceive. What other answer can I give? If, as is possible, you are -suffering from a genuine grievance, I shall be glad to be of any -assistance I can. But you must first give me clearly to understand -what it is you’re after. At present I am completely in the dark.” -</p> - -<p> -“The woman must die.” -</p> - -<p> -The fellow was impervious to reason. He repeated the words with a -passionless calm which added to their significance. Again I screamed -at him: -</p> - -<p> -“You had better be careful!” -</p> - -<p> -He ignored me utterly. Turning to his collaborators he issued an order -which was promptly obeyed. Loosing Miss Purvis’ bonds they stretched -her out upon the table, and tied her on it with a dexterous rapidity -which denoted considerable practice in similar operations. I observed -the proceedings with sensations which are not to be described. I had -hoped that at the last extremity rage would supply me with strength -with which to burst the cords which prevented me from going to her -assistance. I had hoped in vain. The only result of my frenzied -struggles was to increase the tension, and to make my helplessness, if -possible, still clearer. -</p> - -<p> -“Help! help!” I yelled. “Help!” -</p> - -<p> -I was aware that I was the only person who lived in the house, and -that the hour was yet too early for the occupants of offices to have -arrived. But I was actuated by a forlorn hope that my voice might -reach someone who was in a position to render aid. None came. What I -had endured, and was enduring, had robbed my voice of more than half -its power. And though I shouted with what, at the moment, was the full -force of my lungs, I was only too conscious that my utterance was too -inarticulate, too feeble, to allow my words to travel far. -</p> - -<p> -As for that attenuated fiend, who, it was clear, was not by any means -so long as he was wicked, he regarded my maniacal contortions with a -degree of imperturbability which seemed to me to be the climax of -inhumanity. Although it was certain that he both saw and heard me, -since it was impossible that it could be otherwise, not by so much as -the movement of a muscle did he betray the fact. He suffered me to -writhe and scream to my heart’s content. He simply took no notice; -that was all. When the process of tying down Miss Purvis had been -completed, being informed of the fact by one of his assistants, he -turned to examine, with a critical eye, how the work had been done. -Moving round the table, he tried each ligature with his finger as he -passed. Since he found no fault, apparently the way in which the woman -had been laid out for slaughter met with his complete approval. -</p> - -<p> -He condescended once more to bestow his attention upon me. -</p> - -<p> -“For the last time—where is the Great Joss?” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t tell you—how can I tell you if I don’t know what the Great -Joss is? For God’s sake, man, tell me what it is you’re really after -before you go too far. If you want my help, give me a chance to offer -it. Explain to me what the Great Joss is. It is possible, since you -appear to be so positive, that I do know something of its whereabouts. -Tell me, clearly, what it is, and all I know is at your service. Put -my words to the test, and you will find that they are true ones.” -</p> - -<p> -To me it seemed impossible that even such an addle-headed idiot as the -individual in front of me could fail to see that I was speaking the -truth. But he did, he failed entirely. He had convictions of his own, -of which he was not to be disabused. -</p> - -<p> -“You lie again, making a mock of the gods. To the gods the woman shall -be offered as a sacrifice.” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke with a passionless calm which denoted a set purpose from -which there was no turning him. -</p> - -<p> -I raved, I screamed myself hoarse. He paid no heed. I could do no -more. I could either keep my eyes open and watch what went on, or -close them, and my imagination would present me with pictures more -lurid still. The situation was not rendered more agreeable by the fact -that, although they had not given her back the power of speech, as -they had done me, by the removal of the gag, I was conscious that she -was perfectly cognisant of all that was being said, and especially of -the frenzied appeals which I made on her behalf—in vain. -</p> - -<p> -During the minutes which followed I was as one distraught. Now I -watched, with wide open staring eyes; now I shut them, in a sudden -paroxysm of doubt as to what horror I might be compelled to be an -unwilling witness; then, being haunted by frightful imaginings of what -might be transpiring without my knowledge—for she could make no -sound—I opened them again to see. -</p> - -<p> -The three scoundrels set about their hideous business with a matter of -fact air which suggested that, in their opinion, they were doing -nothing out of the common. And perhaps, in that genial portion of the -world from which they came, such butcheries were the everyday events -of their lives. -</p> - -<p> -The tall man issued some curt instructions. The two shorter ones set -about gathering the papers which were scattered about the room, and -piling them in a heap beneath the table. On these they placed more or -less inflammable fragments of my solider belongings. It seemed to be -their intention to have a bonfire on lines of their own. Unless they -were acquainted with a trick or two in that direction, as well as in -others, how they proposed to keep it alight, after ignition, one was -at a loss to understand. -</p> - -<p> -About the procedure of the principal villain there was no such room -for doubt. There was a frankness in his proceedings which caused me -now to shriek at him in half imbecile, because wholly impotent, rage; -and now to shut my eyes in terror of what he might be doing next. -</p> - -<p> -By way of a commencement he took from some receptacle in his clothing -what turned out to be a curiously shaped lamp. This he placed on the -table at Miss Purvis’ feet. Having lit it by the commonplace means of -a match from a box of mine which was on the mantelpiece, he threw on -it, at short intervals, what was probably some variation of what -firework vendors describe as “coloured fire.” The result was that -surrounding objects assumed unusual hues, and the room was filled with -a vapour, which was not only obscuring, but malodorous. From his bosom -he produced an evil-looking knife. Laying a defiling hand upon his -victim’s throat, partly by sheer force, partly by the aid of his -knife, he tore her garments open nearly to the waist. Bending over -her, he seemed to be marking out some sort of design with the point of -his blade on the bare skin, in the region of the heart. Drawing -himself upright he suffered his voluminous sleeves to fall back, and -bared his arms, as a surgeon might do prior to commencing an -operation. -</p> - -<p> -Then he leaned over her again; his knife held out. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch24"> -CHAPTER XXIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE GOD OUT OF THE MACHINE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">How</span> it all happened I have but a misty notion. -</p> - -<p> -My eyelids were twitching; my eyes were neither shut nor open. I could -not look, nor hide from myself the knowledge of what was being done. I -saw the silent woman, the whiteness of her flesh, the gleam of steel, -the tall figure stooping over her. There were the attendant demons, -one on either side. All was still. My voice had perished, I could no -longer utter a sound. And all that was done by the man with the knife -was done in silence. -</p> - -<p> -So acute was the stillness I listened for the entry of the steel into -the flesh—as if that were audible! -</p> - -<p> -Then, on a sudden, all was pandemonium. Of the exact sequence in which -events occurred, I have, as I have said, but a shadowy impression. -</p> - -<p> -Something struck the fellow with the knife full in the face. What it -was at the moment I could not tell. I learnt afterwards that it was a -soft, peaked sailor’s cap, thrown by a strong wrist, with unerring -aim. The impact was not a slight one. Taken unawares the tall man -staggered; he had been hit clean between the eyes. He put his hand up -to his face, as if bewildered. Before he had it down again he had been -seized by the shoulders, flung to the ground, and the knife wrenched -from him. -</p> - -<p> -His assailant was Captain Lander. -</p> - -<p> -“Lander!” I gasped. -</p> - -<p> -The captain glanced in my direction, then at the woman stretched upon -the table, then at the gentleman upon the floor. Him he appeared to -recognise. -</p> - -<p> -“So it’s you, is it? What devil’s work have you been up to now? This -is not Tongkin! Look out there—stop ’em, my lads!” -</p> - -<p> -The attendant demons, perceiving that a change had come o’er the -spirit of the scene, were making for the window, judging, doubtless, -discretion to be the better part of valour. I then learned that -Captain Lander was not alone. He had three companions. These made -short work of stopping the flight of the ingenuous colleagues. One of -the captain’s companions, a man of somewhat remarkable build, gripping -the pair by the nape of the neck by either hand, banged their heads -together. It was a spectacle which I found agreeable to behold. -</p> - -<p> -The long gentleman was rising from the ground. The captain assisted -him by dragging him up by the shoulder. They observed each other with -looks which were not looks of love. The captain jeered. -</p> - -<p> -“So we’ve met again, have we? It seems as if you and I were bound to -meet. We must be fond of one another.” -</p> - -<p> -The other replied with the retort discourteous. -</p> - -<p> -“You dog! You thief! You accursed!” -</p> - -<p> -He seemed to be nearly beside himself with rage, which under the -circumstances, perhaps, was not surprising. -</p> - -<p> -The words apparently conveyed a taunt which drove the man to madness. -Forgetful of the disparity which existed between them and how little -he was the captain’s match, he flung himself at him with the -unreflecting frenzy of some wild cat. Lander laughed. Putting his arms -about the frantic man, with a grin he compressed them tighter and -tighter till I half expected to see him squeeze the life right out. -When he relaxed his hold the other had had enough. Tottering back -against the wall, he leaned against it, breathless. I had supposed his -face to be a mask, incapable of expression, but perceived my error -when I noted the glances with which he regarded his late antagonist. -</p> - -<p> -Careless of how the other might be observing him, Lander, with a few -quick touches of the tall gentleman’s own knife, released the girl who -had already, in very truth, tasted of the bitterness of death. Seeing -the gag, he withdrew it with a tenderness which was almost feminine. -His own coat he threw over her shoulders. A tremor passed all over -her; she raised herself a little; then, with a sigh, sank back upon -the table. -</p> - -<p> -As if satisfied that with her all would now be well, Lander turned to -me. In a moment my bonds were severed. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Mr. Paine, how come you in this galley?” -</p> - -<p> -“That is more than I can tell. Is the lady badly hurt?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not she. She’ll be all right in a minute. I came just in time.” He -uttered an exclamation on perceiving the sailor man, Luke, bound, at -my side. “Why, it’s the Apostle! Lads, here’s our friend, Luke! The -trusty soul! Tied hand and foot, just like a common cur—and gagged as -well! Mr. Luke, this is an unexpected pleasure! We’ll have the gag out -at any rate, if only for the sake of hearing your dear old tongue -start wagging. I hope that didn’t hurt you; you must excuse a little -roughness, for old acquaintance, but I think we’ll leave you tied.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Luke seemed to experience as much difficulty in recovering the -faculty of speech as I had done. Stammering words came from his -bleeding lips. -</p> - -<p> -“Then—in that case—you’d better—kill me.” -</p> - -<p> -“No: we won’t kill you, not just yet; though I would have killed you -out of hand, if I could have got within reach of you—you know when. -On second thoughts I fancy we’ll untie you. Pray tell us, Mr. Luke, -where’s the Great Joss now?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Luke was stretching his limbs, gingerly, apparently finding the -process anything but an agreeable one. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s—what I—want to know,” he mumbled. -</p> - -<p> -“No? Is that so? you done too? Poor Luke! how sad to think your -confidence should have been misplaced. It’s a treacherous world.” The -captain turned to me. “Mr. Paine, I believe you are the only person -who can give us precise information as to the present whereabouts of -the Great Joss.” -</p> - -<p> -“I?” -</p> - -<p> -I stared at him amazed. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, you. I’ll tell you why I think so.” -</p> - - -<h2 id="b4"> -BOOK IV.<br/> -<span class="book_sub">THE JOSS.</span> -</h2> - -<p class="center"> -(CAPTAIN MAX LANDER SETS FORTH THE CURIOUS ADVENTURE WHICH MARKED THE -VOYAGE OF THE “FLYING SCUD.”) -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch25"> -CHAPTER XXV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">LUKE’S SUGGESTION.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I’ve</span> no faith in your old wives’ tales. Not I. But the luck was -against us. Everything went wrong from the first. And there’s no -getting away from the fact that we sailed on a Friday. -</p> - -<p> -The weather in the Bay was filthy. Our engines went wrong in the Red -Sea. We lay up at Aden for a week. There was a bill as long as my arm -to pay. Then when we got out into the open the weather began again. -Never had such a run! It was touch and go for our lives. One night, -half-way between Ceylon and Sumatra, I thought it was the end. We had -more than another touch off the Philippines. By the time we reached -Yokohama we were a wreck—nothing less. -</p> - -<p> -The ship ought to have been overhauled before we started. But the -owners wouldn’t see it. They insisted that a patch here, and a coat of -paint there, would meet the case. But it didn’t. Not by a deal. As we -soon found. At Aden, after all, the engines had only been tinkered. -They went wrong again before we had been three days out. The weather -we had would have tried the best work that ever came out of an -engineer’s shop. Those nailed together pieces of rusty scrap iron -worried the lives right out of us. If we had gone to the bottom they -would have been to blame. -</p> - -<p> -We were late at Yokohama. A lot. The agents didn’t like it, nor the -consignees either. There were words. After all I’d gone through I -wasn’t in a mood to take a jacketing for what wasn’t any fault of -mine. So I let them see. The result was that there were all round -ructions. I admit that, under severe provocation, I did go farther -than I intended. And I did not mean to knock old Lawrence down. But it -was only by the mercy of God I had brought the ship into port at all. -And it was hard lines to meet nothing but black looks, and words, -because I hadn’t performed the impossible. -</p> - -<p> -Lawrence resented my knocking him down. David Lawrence was our agent; -a close-fisted, cantankerous Scotchman. I own I ought to have kept my -hands off him. But when he started bullyragging me on my own deck, -before the crew, as if I was something lower than a cabin boy, when I -had had about enough of it, which wasn’t long, I let fly, and over he -went. -</p> - -<p> -I was sorry directly afterwards. And when he gave me to understand -that not a ha’porth of stuff should come aboard that boat while I was -in command, I swallowed the bile and started to apologise. Not much -good came of that. As soon as my nose was inside his office he began -rubbing me the wrong way. The end of it was that I nearly knocked him -down again. And should have quite if his clerks hadn’t kept me off -him. After that I knew the game was up. I knew that nothing worth -having would come my way at Yokohama. I got drunk for the first time -in my life. The ship was eating her head off for port dues. I slipped -her moorings and ran out to sea. -</p> - -<p> -What I was to do I had not the faintest notion. I was perfectly well -aware that I might as well sink her where she was as to take her back -as good as empty. If I didn’t lose my certificate it would be no -further use to me, because that would be the last command that I -should ever have. I took her to Hong Kong on the off chance of picking -something up. But, as I had half expected, news of <i>The Flying Scud</i> -had travelled ahead. There was nothing but the cold shoulder waiting -for me all along the line. I did get a few odds and ends, but nothing -worth speaking of, and I cleared out of Hong Kong for the same reason -I had cleared out of Yokohama. -</p> - -<p> -Yet, though I should scarcely have thought it possible, there was -worse to follow. -</p> - -<p> -The men, like their captain, were in a bad temper. Which was not to be -wondered at. They were pretty near to mutiny. If they got all the way -I should be landed indeed. Not that I minded. I was beyond that. I -slept with one loaded revolver under my head, and another in my hand. -Possibly a bit of a scrimmage would have had the same effect on me as -a little blood-letting. I should have been the better for it -afterwards. -</p> - -<p> -I confess I did not know where I was going. I crawled along the -Chinese coast with some dim idea of gaining time. Given time I might -be able to form some sort of reasonable plan. One thing was sure, I -had no intention of going home to be ruined. If that was to be the way -of it, I could be ruined just as well where I was. Better perhaps. I -sneaked through the Hainan Strait. A day or two after we ran out of -water. -</p> - -<p> -Just where we were I am not prepared to say. That’s the truth. No -lies! The coast was strange to me. I know the China Seas perhaps as -well as a good many men, but I had never been in the Gulf of Tongkin -before. I will say this, we were not a thousand miles from Lienchow. -</p> - -<p> -We were still hugging the coast when they told me the stores were out. -I ordered them to take her in as close as she could be got. A little -delay more or less didn’t matter a snap of the fingers to me. I had -got as far that. Considering we weren’t over-coaled it was pretty far. -It was a lovely evening, a Friday as it happened—I must have been -born on a Friday! In about a couple of hours the sun would be setting, -so, if we were quick, there would be time to get something aboard -before the night was on us. And quick would have to be the word, -because, in the forecastle they had reached pretty nearly their last -biscuit. -</p> - -<p> -I am not excusing myself. I own I could not have managed worse if I -had tried. I knew all along the stores were running short. I had -refused to refit at Hong Kong out of pure cussedness. What I said was -that if the lubbers wouldn’t ship their cargo, I wouldn’t buy their -stores. And I didn’t. I meant to take in fresh supplies when we had a -chance. We had not had a chance as yet. But now that we had come down -to nothing it was clear that we must get something, if it was only -enough to take us along for a day or two. -</p> - -<p> -Fortunately the sea was calm, the anchorage good. We were able to run -close in. Directly a boat was lowered the men started off as if they -were rowing for grub-stakes. Which they were. -</p> - -<p> -So far as I could see the country thereabouts was uninhabited. If that -was the case, it was a poor look out for us. But as it was a shelving -shore, with trees crowning the crest as far as the eye could reach, it -was possible that both houses and people might be close at hand though -hidden from sight. Which, if I wished to avoid further trouble, was a -state of things devoutly to be desired. -</p> - -<p> -I saw the boat reach land, men get out of it, climb the slope, -disappear from view. And then, for more than three mortal hours, I saw -no more of them. It was pretty tedious waiting. Every man-jack on -board kept a keen look-out. Discipline was not so good as it might -have been—for reasons. There was no conspicuous attempt, as the -minutes crept slowly by, to conceal the apparently general impression -that it was a case of bunk; that those sailor men had thought it -better to throw in their lot with the natives of those parts, rather -than to continue the voyage with me. At the bottom of my boots I felt -that if such was the fact it was not for me to say that they were -fools. -</p> - -<p> -However, it proved not to be the fact. Sometime after darkness had -fallen, just as I was concluding that it would perhaps be as well to -send a second boat in search of the first, and take command of it -myself, boat No. 1 returned. It was greeted with language which might -be described as hearty. They had had some luck, brought something in -the victual line. Without any reference to my authority a raid was -made on what they had brought. I said nothing, not caring what they -did. If they wanted to keep themselves alive, what did it matter to -me? -</p> - -<p> -The boat had been in command of a man named Luke. At Yokohama I had -had a few words with the first mate, and sent him packing. At Hong -Kong there was a difference of opinion with the second, he went after -the first. As the third fancied himself ill, and thought he’d try the -hospital ashore for a change, it looked as if we were going to be -under officered. There was a handy man aboard who called himself Luke. -Just Luke. I didn’t know much about him, what I did know I didn’t -altogether like. But, as I say, he was a handy man. One of those chaps -who can drive an engine or trim a sail. He knew something about -navigation. Said he had a mate’s certificate, but I never saw it, and -never had any reason to believe anything he said. Anyhow, being in a -bit of a hole I took his word for it, and first mate he was appointed. -</p> - -<p> -Some little time after he’d come aboard I was sitting in my cabin, -feeling, as usual, like murder or suicide, when there was a tapping at -the door. It was Luke. -</p> - -<p> -“Beggin’ pardon, captin, but can I have a word with you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Have two.” -</p> - -<p> -He had three—and more. He stood, looking at me in the furtive, -sneaking way he always had, twiddling his cap with his fingers like a -forecastle hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, captain, but I don’t fancy as how you’ve been overmuch in -luck this trip.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Mr. Luke, whatever can have caused you to imagine a thing -like that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well—it’s pretty obvious, ain’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -He grinned. I could have broken his head. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it for the purpose of imparting that information that I am -indebted to the pleasure of your presence here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well no; it ain’t.” He scraped his jaw with his hand, as if to feel -if it wanted shaving, which it did. “The fact is, I shouldn’t be -surprised if you chanced upon a bit of luck still, if you liked.” -</p> - -<p> -“If I liked! You’re a man of humour.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s this way.” He hesitated, as if doubtful as to the advisability -of telling me which way it was. “It all depends upon whether you’d -care to run a trifle of risk.” -</p> - -<p> -“After what I’ve gone through it’d have to be a pretty big trifle of -risk which would prevent me snatching a chestnut out of the fire.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s what I thought.” -</p> - -<p> -He cleared his throat. -</p> - -<p> -“Get on, man, get on!” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s this way.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ve said it’s this way, but you haven’t said which way.” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s a—we’ll say party, as wants a passage to England, bad.” -</p> - -<p> -“Where is this party?” -</p> - -<p> -“Over there.” -</p> - -<p> -He nodded his head in the direction of the shore. -</p> - -<p> -“Who is this party?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s where it is; he’s a Joss.” -</p> - -<p> -“A Joss? What do you mean? What are you grinning at? Don’t try to play -any of your damfool jokes with me, I’m not taking any.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s no joke, captain; it’s dead earnest. The party is a Joss, and -that’s where it is.” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean by a Joss?” -</p> - -<p> -“It seems that a Joss is a sort of a kind of a god of the country, as -it were.” -</p> - -<p> -Luke’s grin became more cavernous. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you suggesting that we should raid a temple; is that what you’re -after?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, no, not quite that. This party, although a Joss, is an -Englishman.” -</p> - -<p> -“An Englishman!” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, an Englishman; and having had enough of being a Joss he wants to -get back to his native land, ‘England, home and beauty,’ and that kind -of thing, and he’s willing to pay high for getting there.” -</p> - -<p> -“Where’s the risk?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it seems that the people in these parts think a good deal of -him, and they don’t care to have their gods and such-like cut their -lucky whenever they think they will. Besides, he wouldn’t want to come -empty-handed.” -</p> - -<p> -“How do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -Luke glanced round, as if searching for unseen listeners. His voice -sank. -</p> - -<p> -“I didn’t manage to get more than half-a-dozen words, as it might be, -with the party in question——” -</p> - -<p> -“How did you manage to get those?” -</p> - -<p> -The dear man’s face assumed a crafty look. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it was a kind of accident, as it were; but that is neither here -nor there. From what I’m told there’s a slap-up temple on the other -side of the hill, what’s crammed with the offerings of the faithful. -This here party’s been a good time in the neighbourhood, and through -their thinking a lot of him, as I’ve said, they’ve brought him heaps -and heaps of presents. It’s them he wants to take away with him.” -</p> - -<p> -“If they’re his who’s to say him no?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, there’s a lot of other coves about the temple, and they won’t -allow they are his. Anyhow, they’d raise hell-and-Tommy if they knew -he thought of taking them to England.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see. As I supposed at first, it’s a big steal you’re after.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s hardly fair to call it that, captain. The things are his. It’s -only those other blokes’ cussed greediness.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is that way sometimes. One man says things are his which other -people claim; then, poor beggar, he gets locked up because they are so -grasping. What is he disposed to pay for taking him and his -belongings?” -</p> - -<p> -“Just whatever you choose to ask.” -</p> - -<p> -In Luke’s eyes, as they met mine, there was a peculiar meaning. -</p> - -<p> -“Then he’ll find his passage an expensive one.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think you’ll find there’ll be any trouble about that. You get -him and his safe to England, and I shouldn’t be surprised but what -you’d find, captain, that you’d made a good voyage after all. The only -thing is, there’s no time to be lost. He’s in a hurry. He’s not so -young as he was, and he’s about as sick of this neighbourhood as he -can be.” -</p> - -<p> -“He can come aboard at once if he likes.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, that would be sharp work, wouldn’t it? But I don’t know that it -can be done quite so quick as that. You see, there’s a good deal of -stuff, and it’s got to be got away, and without any fuss. But I tell -you what, captain, he would like to have a word with you, if so be as -you wouldn’t mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“Where is he? Did you bring him with you in the boat?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I didn’t do that. He ain’t a party as can go where, when, and how -he likes. There’s eyes upon him all the time, and there’s other -things. But I do know where he’s to be found, and I did go so far as -to say that if so be you was willin’ I’d bring you straight back to -him right away, and then you might talk things over; I did make so -bold as to go as far as that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you wish me to understand that he’s waiting for me now?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, that’s about the size of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll come.” -</p> - -<p> -I went. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch26"> -CHAPTER XXVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE THRONE IN THE CENTRE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Never</span> shall I forget that row in the moonlight. It was one of those -clear, soft, mysterious nights, which one sometimes gets in those -latitudes, when the air seems alive with unseen things. One’s half shy -of talking for fear of being overheard. I’m no hand at description, -but those who have been in those parts know the sort of night I mean. -I was not in a romantic mood, God knows. Nor, so far as I could see, -was there much of romance about the expedition. But I had been -brooding, brooding, brooding, till things had got into my blood. As I -sat there in the boat I felt as if I were moving through a world of -dream. -</p> - -<p> -We had brought a funny crowd. At the back of my mind, and I felt sure -at the back of Luke’s, was the feeling that if the thing had to be -done at all then the quicker it was done the better. It was a case of -taking time by the forelock. <i>The Flying Scud</i> had a ragged crew. The -Lord alone could tell what was the nationality of most of them. Out of -the bunch we had picked the best. There was the chief engineer, Isaac -Rudd. He had shipped with me before. I knew him, and that he wouldn’t -stick at a trifle. A man who had had to wrestle with such engines as -ours wasn’t likely to. In a manner of speaking he was as deep in the -ditch as I was; because if things had gone wrong his share of the -blame was certainly equal to mine. If there was a chance of levelling -up then we were both about as eager to snatch at it. Then there was -Holley, Sam Holley, whom I had made second mate. Though he was a fat -man, with a squeaky voice, I was hoping there were not too many soft -streaks in him. There was his chum, Bill Cox, the very antipodes of -himself. A shrivelled-up little fellow, with a voice like a big -bassoon. Those two always went together. -</p> - -<p> -Lord knows who the rest were. Though I had a kind of an inkling that -Luke had done his best to see there were no shirkers, I had not -breathed a syllable about the game we were after. But Luke might have -dropped a hint. There was that about the fellows which to me smelt -like business. And I felt sure that each man had about him somewhere -something which would come in handy to fight with. -</p> - -<p> -Still, I knew nothing about that. The impression I had wished to -convey was that we were enjoying a little moonlight excursion, and -that if anything was about, it was peace and mercy. -</p> - -<p> -We reached shore. I spoke to them as Luke and I were getting out. -</p> - -<p> -“You chaps will stay here. Mr. Holley, you’ll be in command and see -that there’s no roving. Mr. Rudd, you will come with us to the top of -the hill. Mr. Luke and I are going to see a friend on a little matter -of business. If you hear a double catcall, or the sound of firearms, -or anything that makes you think that we’re not altogether enjoying -ourselves, you pass the word at once. Then you chaps will come on for -all you’re worth. Leave one man in charge of the boat; that’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -We then went up the slope. At the top we left Rudd, with a final tip -from me to keep his eyes skinned, and his ears open. Luke and I -plunged right away into what seemed to me to be a trackless forest. -How he could find his way in it, considering he had only been there -once in his life before, and then in broad daylight, was beyond my -understanding. But there were one or two things about St. Luke which I -couldn’t make out, either then or afterwards. Anyhow he forged his way -ahead as if he had been used to the place from his cradle up. Never -seemed puzzled for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -Presently we reached an open space. The moon shone down so that it was -as light as day. Only there was a fringe of outer darkness all around. -Luke made a queer noise with his lips. I suppose it was some sort of -bird he was imitating. He repeated it three times; with an interval -between each. Then something came out of the darkness which took me -all aback. -</p> - -<p> -It was a woman. -</p> - -<p> -When she first appeared she had something white over her, head and -all. Coming close up to us, drawing the covering aside with a -dexterous switch, she stood bareheaded. I stared in amazement. I had -not known there were such women in the world. I stammered to Luke— -</p> - -<p> -“Who’s this?” -</p> - -<p> -To my astonishment she answered—in English a thousand times better -than mine. It was a treat to listen to her. -</p> - -<p> -“It is I.” -</p> - -<p> -Off came my cap in a twinkling. -</p> - -<p> -“I beg your pardon. I had no idea I was to meet a lady.” -</p> - -<p> -“A lady? Am I a lady? Yes?” She laughed. She alone knew what at. Such -laughter! “I am Susan.” -</p> - -<p> -Susan! She was as much a Susan as I was a Jupiter. I said then, and I -say now, and I shall keep on saying, she was the loveliest creature I -had ever seen even in—I won’t say dreams, because I don’t dream—but -in pictures. She was straight as a mast. Carried herself as if she -were queen of the earth; which she was. Yet with a dainty grace which -for bewitching charm was beyond anything I had ever imagined. And her -eyes! They were like twin moons in a summer sky. As I looked at her -every nerve in my body tingled. -</p> - -<p> -She added, since she saw me speechless: -</p> - -<p> -“I am the daughter of the gods.” -</p> - -<p> -That was better. She was that. The daughter of the gods—as she put it -herself. I could have dropped at her feet and worshipped. But she went -on: -</p> - -<p> -“You are from the ship? You are the captain?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am Max Lander.” -</p> - -<p> -“Max Lander?” She repeated my name in a sort of a kind of a way which -made everything seem to swim before my eyes. “It is a good name. We -shall be friends.” -</p> - -<p> -“Friends!” -</p> - -<p> -She held out her hands to me. As I took them into mine, Lord! how I -shivered. I fancy she felt me shaking by the way she smiled. It made -me worse, her smile did. She kept cool through it all. -</p> - -<p> -“Shall we not be friends?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear lady, I—I hope we shall.” -</p> - -<p> -Talk about being at a loss for words! I could have poured out -thousands. Only just then my dictionary had all its pages torn out, -and I didn’t know where to lay my hand upon one of them. -</p> - -<p> -“It is my father you have come to see.” -</p> - -<p> -“Your father?” -</p> - -<p> -I had forgotten what had brought me. Everything but the fact that she -was standing there, in the moonlight, within reach of me, had passed -from my mind. Her words brought me back to earth with a bang. Her -father? Was it possible that I had come to see her father? She, the -daughter of the gods; what manner of man must be her sire? I stuttered -and I stammered. -</p> - -<p> -“I—I didn’t understand I’d come to see your father.” -</p> - -<p> -“He is the Great Joss.” -</p> - -<p> -“The Great Joss?” -</p> - -<p> -What on earth did she mean? What was a Joss, anyhow, great or little? -I had heard of joss-sticks, though I only had a hazy notion what they -were. But a real live Joss, who could be the father of such a -daughter, was a new kind of creature altogether. She offered no -explanation. -</p> - -<p> -“He waits for you. I am here to bring you to him. Come.” -</p> - -<p> -She fluttered off among the trees. -</p> - -<p> -“Luke,” I whispered as we followed, “this is not at all the sort of -thing I was prepared for.” -</p> - -<p> -“She’s a fine piece, ain’t she?” -</p> - -<p> -A “fine piece!” To apply his coarse Whitechapel slang to such a being! -It was unendurable. I could have knocked him down. Only I thought -that, just then, I had better not. I preserved silence instead. -</p> - -<p> -It was like a page out of a fairy tale; we followed the enchanted -princess through the wood of wonders. The gleaming of her snow-white -robes was all we had to guide us. Shafts of light shot down upon her -through the trees. When they struck her she shone like silver. She -moved swiftly through the forest; out of the darkness into the light, -then into the dark again. No sound marked her passing. She sped on -noiseless feet. While Luke struggled clumsily after her. -</p> - -<p> -She took us perhaps a quarter of a mile. Even as we went I wondered if -Isaac Rudd upon the hill-top would hear us should we find ourselves in -want of aid. How help would reach us if he did. One would need to be -highly endowed with the instinct of locality to follow us by the way -which we had come. A rendezvous hidden in a primeval forest, as this -one seemed to be, might not be found easy of access by any sailor man. -</p> - -<p> -She stopped; waiting till we came close up to her. -</p> - -<p> -“It is here. Be careful; there is a step.” -</p> - -<p> -It was only when she opened a door, and I perceived the shimmer of a -dim light beyond, that I realised that we were standing in the shadow -of some kind of building. The darkness had seemed to be growing more -opaque. Here was the explanation. If it had not been for her we should -have knocked our heads against the wall. Nothing betrayed its -neighbourhood; not a light, not a sound. If it had been placed there, -cheek by jowl with the towering trees, with the intent of concealing -its existence as much as possible from the eyes of men, the design had -been well conceived and carried out. At night no one would suspect its -presence. How it would be by day I could not tell. I doubted if it -would be much more obvious then. It was no hut. As I glanced above me -it seemed to be of huge proportions. Its blackness soared up and up -like some grim nightmare. What could it be? -</p> - -<p> -Our guide entered. I followed; Luke brought up the rear. It was some -seconds before I began to even faintly understand what kind of place -it was which we were in. Then I commenced to realise that it must be -some kind of heathen temple. Its vastness amazed me. Whether it was or -was not exaggerated by the prevailing semi-darkness I could not -positively determine. To me it seemed to be monstrous. Height, -breadth, length, all were lost in shadows. Wherever I looked I could -not see the end. Only a haunting impression of illimitable distance. -</p> - -<p> -The door by which we had entered was evidently a private one. There -was only space for one at a time to pass. To such an edifice there -must have been another entrance, to permit of the passage of large -crowds. Though I could not guess in which direction it might be. -Columns rose on every hand. I had a notion that they were of varied -colours; covered with painted carvings. But whether they were of wood, -stone, or metal I could not say. Their number added an extra touch of -bewilderment. One gazed through serried lines and lines of columns -which seemed to bridge the gathering shadows with the outer darkness -which was beyond. -</p> - -<p> -Until our guide moved more towards the centre of the building, with us -at her heels, I did not understand where the light which illumined the -place came from. It proceeded from what I suppose was the altar. The -high altar. A queer one it was. And imposing to boot. Anyhow, seen in -that half light, with us coming on it unprepared, and not expecting -anything of the kind, it was imposing, and something more. I don’t -mind owning that I had a queer feeling about my back. Just as if -someone had squeezed an unexpected drop of water out of a sponge, and -it was going trickling down my spine. -</p> - -<p> -There was some fascinating representations of what one could only -trust were not common objects of the seashore. These were of all -sizes. Some several times as large as life, and, one fervently hoped, -a hundred times less natural. They stood for originals which, so far -as my knowledge of physiology goes, are to be found neither in the -sea, or under it; on the earth, or over it; or anywhere adjacent. The -powers be thanked! They were monsters; just that, and would have been -excellent items in a raving madman’s ideal freak museum. Anywhere else -they were out of place. There was one sweet creature which -particularly struck my fancy. It was some fourteen or fifteen feet -high, and was about all mouth. Its mouth was pretty wide open. It -would have made nothing of swallowing a Jonah. And was fitted with a -set of teeth which were just the thing to scrunch his bones. -</p> - -<p> -These pretty dears were arranged in a semicircle, each on a stand of -its own. The small ones were outside. They grew bigger as they went -on, until, by the time you reached the biggest in the middle, if you -were a drinking man you were ready to turn teetotaler at sight. The -hues they were decked in were enough to make you envy the colour -blind. Coming on this livening collection without the slightest -notice, in that great black mystery of a place, with just light enough -to let them hit you in the eye, and hidden in the darkness you knew -not what besides, was a bit trying to the nerves. At least it was to -mine. And I’m not generally accounted a nervous subject. -</p> - -<p> -The strangest thing of all was in the centre. I stared at it, and -stared; yet I couldn’t make out what it was. -</p> - -<p> -It was on a throne; if it wasn’t gold it looked like it. It was large -enough for half-a-dozen men. Standing high. Right in the middle, -flanked by the biggest pair of monsters, the seat was on a level with -the tops of their heads. It was approached by a flight of steps, each -step apparently of different coloured stone. Coloured lamps were hung -above and about it. One noticed how, in the draughty air, they were -swinging to and fro. From these proceeded all the light that was in -the place, except that here and there upon the steps were queer-shaped -vessels, seemingly of copper, in which something burned, flashing up -now and then in changing hues, like Bengal lights. From them, I -judged, proceeded the sickly smell which made the whole place like a -pest-house. And the smoke was horrid. -</p> - -<p> -In the very centre of the throne was something, though what I could -not make out. It seemed immobile; yet there was that about it which -suggested life. The face and head were as hideous as any of the -horrors round about, and yet—could the thing be human? Long -parti-coloured hair—scarlet, yellow, green, all sorts of unnatural -colours—descending from the scalp nearly obscured the visage. There -seemed to be only one eye and no nose. If there were ears they were -hidden. Was it some obscene creature or the mockery of a man? There -were no signs of legs. The thing was scarcely more than three feet -high. Being clad in a sort of close-fitting tunic, which was ablaze -with what seemed diamonds, legs, if there had been any, could scarcely -have been hidden. There was certainly nothing in the way of breeches. -Arms, on the other hand, there were and to spare. A pair dangled at -the sides which were longer than the entire creature. Huge hands were -at the ends. -</p> - -<p> -While I gazed at this nightmare creation of some delirious showman’s -fancy, wondering if such a creature by any possibility could ever have -had actual existence, that most beautiful woman in the world who had -brought us there turned to me and said, as simply and as naturally as -if she were remarking that she’d take another lump of sugar in her -tea:— -</p> - -<p> -“This is the Great Joss—my father.” -</p> - -<p> -And Luke, clearing his throat, with an air half apologetic and half -familiar, observed, in a sort of husky groan, which I daresay he meant -for a whisper, -</p> - -<p> -“Hallo, Ben, my cockalorum bird, how goes it along with you, old son?” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch27"> -CHAPTER XXVII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE OFFERINGS OF THE FAITHFUL.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">No</span> notice was taken of Luke’s inquiry. Instead, the whole place was -filled all at once with a variety of discordant sounds. They seemed to -proceed from the monsters which were ranged about the central figure. -At the same time their arms began to move, their heads to waggle, -their mouths to open and shut, their eyes to roll. Possibly, to the -untaught savage, such an exhibition might have appeared impressive. It -reminded me too much of the penny-in-the-slot figures whose limbs are -set in motion by the insertion of a coin. The slight awe which I had -felt for the figures vanished for good and all. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s enough of it,” I observed. “I like them better when they’re -still. Would whoever’s pulling the strings mind taking a rest?” -</p> - -<p> -I had a sort of a kind of an idea that by someone or other my remark -was not relished so much as it deserved. A suspicion that in some -quarter there was a feeling of resentment that what had been intended -to confound me should have ended in a fizzle. The noises stopped; the -figures ceased to move; it was as if the coin-in-the-slot had given us -our pennyworth. Instead, something which, from my point of view, was -very much more objectionable began to happen. -</p> - -<p> -From the immediate neighbourhood of the figure on the throne snakes’ -heads began to peep. There was no mistake that they were all -alive—oh! The evil-looking brutes began to slither over the sides. I -never could abide snakes, either in a figurative or a literal sense. -The mere sight of one puts my dander up. Whipping up a couple of -revolvers out of my coat pockets, I headed the muzzles straight for -them. -</p> - -<p> -“Someone had better call those pretty darlings off before I shoot the -eyes clean out of their heads!” -</p> - -<p> -To my surprise the warning was immediately answered. -</p> - -<p> -“You’d better not shoot at them, my lad, or you’ll be sorry.” -</p> - -<p> -The words came from the creature on the throne. -</p> - -<p> -“So you are alive, are you? You’d better call them off, or I’ll shoot -first, and be sorry after.” -</p> - -<p> -“They’re not touching you, you fool!” -</p> - -<p> -“No, and I’m not going to wait until they are.” -</p> - -<p> -The things were coming unpleasantly close—their approach setting -every nerve in my body on edge. In another second or two I would have -fired. Luke caught me by the arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Gently, captain, gently. The snakes won’t hurt you; our friend won’t -let them. It’s only his way. Captain, let me introduce you to my old -friend, Mr. Benjamin Batters. My friend and me haven’t seen each other -for years, have we, Ben?” -</p> - -<p> -“Can’t say I ever wanted to see you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Just so, just so; still friends do meet again. Ben, this is Captain -Lander.” -</p> - -<p> -“He doesn’t seem to know his proper place.” -</p> - -<p> -“When I glance in your direction, Mr. Batters, I’m inclined to make -the same remark of you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Damn the man!” -</p> - -<p> -The creature proved himself to be very much alive by seizing one of -the serpents in his huge hands and whirling it above his head as if it -had been a club. -</p> - -<p> -Luke played the part of peacemaker. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, gentlemen! Come, Ben, no offence was meant, I’m sure. Tell the -captain what you want. He’s in rather a hurry, Captain Lander is.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then let him go to the devil, and take his hurry with him.” -</p> - -<p> -“By all means. I wish you good evening, Mr. Batters.” -</p> - -<p> -I swung round on my heels. The creature screamed after me. -</p> - -<p> -“Stop, you fool, stop! I’m the Joss—the Great Joss; the greatest god -this country’s ever known. In my presence all men fall upon their -knees and worship me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Let ’em. Tastes differ. I like my gods to be built on other lines.” -</p> - -<p> -I expected to be attacked by a shower of execration. But the creature -changed his mood. -</p> - -<p> -“And I’m sick of being a god—sick of it—dead sick! Curse your -josses, is what I say—damn ’em!” There followed a flood of -adjectives. “I want to get out of the place, to turn my back upon the -whole infernal land, to never set eyes on it again. I’m an Englishman, -that’s what I am—an Englishman, British born and British bred. I want -to get back to my native land. Captain Lander, or whatever your cursed -name is, will you take me back to England?” -</p> - -<p> -“When?” -</p> - -<p> -“Now—at once—to-night!” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not carry passengers. I doubt if I have proper accommodation. -What will you give me for taking you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll show you what I’ll give you.” -</p> - -<p> -The creature scrambled off his throne by means of his arms and hands, -like some huge baboon. As I had suspected, he appeared to have no -legs. Reaching the ground he moved at what, under the circumstances, -was an extraordinary pace. Wheels had been attached to the stumps of -his legs. Using his hands as a monkey does its forearms, he advanced -upon these wheels as if they had been castors. As we followed him Luke -whispered in my ear:— -</p> - -<p> -“You mustn’t mind what he says; he’s a bit off his chump, poor chap.” -</p> - -<p> -“From what I can see there seems to be a bit off him elsewhere besides -the chump.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, he’s lived a queer life. Been cut to pieces, stewed in oil, and I -don’t know what. He’s a tough ’un. It’s a miracle he’s alive. I -thought he was dead years ago. When I first knew him he was a finer -man than me.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Batters had brought us to an apartment which seemed to be used as -a repository for the treasures of the temple. The room was not a large -one, but it was as full as it could hold. Curios were on every hand. -Trading in Eastern seas I had seen something of things of the kind; I -knew that those I saw there had value. There were images, ornaments, -vessels of all sorts, and shapes, and sizes, apparently of solid gold. -He lifted the lid of a lacquered case. -</p> - -<p> -“You see that? That’s dust—gold dust. There are more than twenty -cases full of it, worth at least a thousand pounds apiece. You see -those?” He was holding up another box for my inspection. “Those are -diamonds, rubies, pearls, sapphires, opals, and turquoises.” -</p> - -<p> -“Real?” -</p> - -<p> -“Real!” he screamed. “They’re priceless! unique! They’re offerings -which the faithful have made to me, the Great Joss. They come from men -and women who are the greatest and the richest in the land. Do you -think they would dare to offer me imitations? If they were guilty of -such sacrilege I would destroy them root and branch. And they know -it!” The creature snarled like some great cat. “I know something of -stones, and I tell you you won’t find finer gems in any jeweller’s -shop in London—nor any as fine.” He waved his arms. “You won’t match -the things you see here in all Europe—not in kings’ palaces nor in -national museums. I know, and I tell you. If all the things you see in -this place were put up in a London auction room for sale to-morrow, -they’d fetch more than a million pounds—down on the nail! I swear -they would! If you’ll take me with you to England to-night—me and my -daughter here; this is my daughter, Susan. She’s her father’s only -child.” The irony of it! My stars! A shudder went all over me as I -thought of her being connected by ties of blood with such an object. -“If you’ll give the pair of us ship-room, and all these -things—they’re all my property, every pin’s worth, all offerings to -the Great Joss—you and your crew shall have half of everything you -see. That shall be in payment of our passage.” -</p> - -<p> -Half! -</p> - -<p> -My mouth watered. His appraisement of the value of the things I saw -about me went to all intents and purposes unheeded. Divide his figures -by twenty. Say their worth was £50,000. Half of that, even after I, -and Luke, and Rudd, and the rest of them had had their pickings—and -out of a venture of this sort pickings there would have to be—the -remnant would still leave a handsome profit for the owners. I knew the -kind of men with whom I had to deal. Only give them a sufficient -profit, I need not fear being placed in their black books. However it -might have come. And then there was half that collection of gems—I -would have that too. And half the gold dust. Ye whales and little -fishes! this might yet turn out the most profitable voyage I’d ever -made. -</p> - -<p> -Yet I easily perceived that there might be breakers ahead. -</p> - -<p> -“You say that all these things are yours?” -</p> - -<p> -“Every one—every speck of gold dust. All! all! I am the only Great -Joss; they have been given to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then, in that case, there will be no difficulty in removing them.” -</p> - -<p> -The response came brusquely enough, and to the point. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s where you’re a fool. Do you suppose I’d share the plunder if -there weren’t? If it was known that I was going to make myself scarce, -let alone hooking off with this lot of goods, there’d be hell to pay. -I haven’t stayed here all this time because I wanted; I had to. They -made of me the thing you see; cut me to pieces; boiled, burned, and -baked me; skinned me alive. Then they dipped me in a paint-pot and -made of me a god. The next thing they’ll make of me’ll be a corpse; I -can’t stand being pulled about with red-hot pincers like I used to. -There’s a hundred adjectived priests about this adjectived show. They -all want to have a finger in my pie. When I had a word with Luke here, -and arranged with him to have a word with you, I sent the whole damned -pack off miracle working at a place half-a-dozen miles away from here. -We’ll have to be cleared off before they’re back or there’ll be -fighting; they can fight! And the man who falls into their hands alive -before they’ve done with him will curse his mother for ever having -borne him.” -</p> - -<p> -“How do you propose to go—walk?” -</p> - -<p> -“Walk!” He laughed—a laugh which wasn’t nice to hear. “I haven’t -walked for twenty years—since they burned my legs off so that I -shouldn’t. When the Great Joss goes abroad he travels in his -palanquin—there it is. And as he passes the people throw themselves -on to the ground and hide their faces in the dust, lest, at the sight -of his godlike form, they should fall dead. You’ll have to fetch your -chaps, and be quick about it! They’ll have to carry me, and I’ll stuff -the palanquin as full as it will hold with the things which are best -worth taking. I know ’em!” -</p> - -<p> -I reflected for a moment. Then turned to Luke. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you think you can find your way to Rudd?” -</p> - -<p> -The girl interposed. -</p> - -<p> -“Let me go; I shall be surer—and quicker.” -</p> - -<p> -“You can’t go alone; they won’t take their orders from you.” An idea -occurred to me. “I’ll come with you, and we’ll take as many things -with us as we can carry. Luke, you stay behind and help Mr. Batters -put the things together in convenient parcels. I doubt if there’ll be -enough of us to take everything. Pick out the best. As time’s -precious, what we can’t take we shall have to leave behind.” -</p> - -<p> -I crammed my pockets with the smaller odds and ends, none the less -valuable, perhaps, because they were small. I packed a lot of other -things into a sort of sheet which I slung over my shoulder. The girl -stowed as much as she could carry into the skirt of her queer -fashioned gown. She held it up as children do their pinafores. Out we -went into the night. -</p> - -<p> -As we hurried along my breath came faster even than the pace warranted -at the thought of being alone in the darkness with her. -</p> - -<p> -We went some way before a word was spoken. Then I asked a question. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you want to go to England?” -</p> - -<p> -“Want!” She gave a sigh, as of longing. “I have wanted ever since I -was born.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you shall go whoever has to stay behind.” -</p> - -<p> -“Stay behind—how do you mean?” She seemed to read in my words a -hidden significance. “My father must go. If he stays I stay also.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is he really your father?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course he is my father. My mother was one of the women of the -country. They burned her when I was born.” -</p> - -<p> -“Burned her?” -</p> - -<p> -“As a thank offering for having borne unto the Great Joss a child.” -</p> - -<p> -She spoke in the most matter-of-fact tone. I wondered what sort of -place this was I had got into, whether the people hereabouts were men -or demons. She went on quietly. -</p> - -<p> -“My father is the Great Joss. It was a great thing to the people that -a woman should have borne to him a child.” -</p> - -<p> -“A child who was a goddess.” -</p> - -<p> -I was ashamed of myself directly the words were uttered. It seemed to -be taking an unfair advantage to say things to her like that. But she -didn’t seem to mind. -</p> - -<p> -“A goddess? That is what men worship.” -</p> - -<p> -“Just so. That is what men worship.” -</p> - -<p> -She laughed to herself softly, so that only I, who was close at her -side, could hear. There was that in the sound which set my blood on -fire. -</p> - -<p> -“If I am a goddess, whom you worship, then you must be god, and I must -worship you. Shall it be?” -</p> - -<p> -I did not answer. Whether she was playing with me I could not tell. I -knew all the while that it was just as likely. But there was something -in the question, and in the way in which she asked it, which put all -my senses in confusion. It was a wonder I didn’t come a dozen times to -the ground. My wits were wandering. We exchanged not another syllable. -I had lost my tongue. -</p> - -<p> -As we neared Rudd he challenged us. -</p> - -<p> -“Who comes there?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all right, Rudd; it’s I.” He was plainly surprised at the sight -of my companion. But, being a discreet soul, asked no questions. -Perhaps he had already concluded—being quite capable of drawing -deductions on his own account—that queer things were in the air. -“Stay where you are. I shall be back in a minute and shall want you. -I’m going to fetch the men out of the boat. There’s a job of work on -hand.” -</p> - -<p> -We ran down the slope. Found the boat where I had left it. Deposited -in it the things which we had brought away with us; no one offering a -comment. As I unloaded I gave hurried instructions. In certainly not -much more that the minute of which I had spoken to Rudd we were -starting back to him. One man we left in the boat; five we took with -us. Of their quality in a scrimmage I knew nothing; but, as I had -suspected, each had brought with him something with which to make his -mark in case of ructions. If one might judge from their demeanour the -suggestion that there might be friction ahead seemed to give them -satisfaction rather than otherwise. Especially when I added a hint -that there was plunder to be got by those who cared to get it. They -put no inconvenient inquiries. Whose property it might chance to be -was their captain’s affair not theirs. For once in a way they -recognised the force of the fact that it was theirs only to obey. -</p> - -<p> -All they wanted was a share of the spoil. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch28"> -CHAPTER XXVIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE JOSS REVERTS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">We</span> passed through the forest in single file; the girl first, I next; -the men hard upon each other’s heels. We found Luke apparently alone. -I thought that the Joss had returned for some purpose to the temple. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s he gone for?” I asked. -</p> - -<p> -Luke made a movement with his forefinger, suggesting caution. He spoke -in a hoarse whisper. -</p> - -<p> -“He’s not gone; he’s there—in the palanquin.” His voice sank lower. -“I rather fancy that he don’t want to be looked at more than he can -help. Poor chap! he feels that, to look at, he ain’t the man as once -he was.” -</p> - -<p> -Luke grinned. Sympathy did not go very deep with him. -</p> - -<p> -The palanquin was drawn out upon the floor. The girl stooped over it. -</p> - -<p> -“Father!” A voice proceeded from within—a surly voice:— -</p> - -<p> -“I’m here all right; don’t let’s have any nonsense. Tell ’em to be -careful how they carry me; I don’t want to be jolted to bits by a lot -of awkward fools. They’re to hurry for all that; those devils may be -back at any minute. We’ve arranged the things as best we can; Luke -will tell them what’s to be taken first.” -</p> - -<p> -Luke volunteered to be one of the palanquin bearers, suggesting that -Isaac Rudd should be the other. Isaac glanced doubtfully towards me. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all right, Mr. Rudd. There’s a friend of mine in there, an -invalid, who is not able to walk very well over uneven ground. If you -will assist Mr. Luke, I’ll be obliged. You’ll find that you’ll be able -to carry him very easily between you.” -</p> - -<p> -Isaac expressed his willingness to lend a hand, though I could see -that he still had his doubts as to what was in the palanquin. To be -frank, I was doubtful too. I wondered what it contained besides -Benjamin Batters. -</p> - -<p> -Luke and his friend, considering the short time they had had at their -disposal, had put the goods into convenient form for transit. Some had -been packed in wooden cases, some in bundles, some in sacks. Each man -took as much as he could carry—inquiring of himself, I make no doubt, -what it was that he was bearing. I took my share. The girl took hers. -Luke and Rudd shouldered the palanquin; the second in front, the first -behind—Luke taking up his position in the rear, so that he might the -more easily, if necessary, hold communication with its occupant. -</p> - -<p> -The procession started. The girl was its guide, now in advance, now at -the palanquin side holding converse with her father. I gathered from -what I heard that he was not in the sweetest temper. Luke and Rudd -were not practised bearers. The way was difficult. The light trying. -Now and then one or the other would stumble. The palanquin was jolted. -From its interior issued a curse which, if not loud, was deep and -strong. -</p> - -<p> -We reached the open on the crest of the slope without interruption. I -was beginning to conclude that, consciously or unconsciously, Batters -had exaggerated the danger which would attend his attempt at flight. -We had borne him away if not in triumph, at least with impunity; -looted the temple of its best belongings; no one had endeavoured to -say us nay. It might be almost worth our while to return for what we -had left behind. Actual peril there appeared to be none. No one seemed -cognisant of what was going on, or seemed to care. If the temple -itself had been portable, we might have carried it away entire; the -result apparently would have been the same. -</p> - -<p> -Thinking such thoughts I watched Luke and Rudd go swinging down the -slope in the moonlight. I almost suspected them of intentional -awkwardness; they treated that palanquin to such a continuous shaking. -Its occupant must have been gripping the sides with his huge hands, or -surely he would have been dislodged and shot on to the ground. With a -stream of adjectives he enlivened the proceedings. -</p> - -<p> -“Small blame to him,” said I to myself. “If jolting’s good for the -liver, as I’ve heard, he’ll have had a good dose of the medicine -before he’s through. If swearing ’ll make it easier, for the Lord’s -sake let him swear.” -</p> - -<p> -And he swore. And right in the middle of about as full flavoured a -string of observations as I had ever heard there arose a wild cry from -the forest behind us. In a second the Joss’ head appeared between the -curtains. -</p> - -<p> -“Quick! quick! It’s the devils—the devils!” -</p> - -<p> -It needed no urging from me—or from him either—to induce everyone -concerned to quicken his pace. On a sudden the forest where, a moment -back, had reigned the silence of the grave, was now alive with shouts -and noises. People were shrieking. What sounded like drums were being -banged. Guns were being fired. The Great Joss’ absence was discovered. -Possibly the absence of a good deal of valuable property had been -discovered too. The alarm was being given. The priests—those pious -souls who had burned the girl’s mother alive as a reward for having -borne the Great Joss a child!—were warning the country far and wide -of what had happened. In a few minutes the whole countryside would be -upon us. -</p> - -<p> -I don’t fancy the fighting instinct was very hot in any of us just -then. There was something ominous about that din. We were few. The -proceedings on which we were engaged might appear odd regarded from a -certain point of view. Fortunately, we were near the boat. -</p> - -<p> -As luck would have it, when he was within a dozen paces of the water’s -edge, Luke, tripping over a bush, or something, dropped on to his -knee. The palanquin, torn from Isaac’s shoulders, descended to the -ground with a crash. What were Mr. Batters’ feelings I am unable to -say. I expected to see him shot through the roof, like a -jack-in-the-box. But he wasn’t. So far as I could tell in the haste -and confusion he was silent. Which was ominous. The girl sank down -beside the fallen palanquin with the evident intention of offering -words of comfort to her revered, though maltreated, parent. -</p> - -<p> -Before she had a chance of saying a word Luke had righted himself. -Rudd had regained possession of the end which he had lost. Mr. Batters -inside might be dead. That was a matter of comparative indifference. -No inquiries were made. Somehow the palanquin was being borne towards -the boat. Of exactly what took place during the next few minutes I -have only vague impressions. I know that the palanquin was got into -the boat somehow, with the Great Joss, or what was left of him, still -inside. The men, disposing of their burdens anywhere or anyhow, began -to get out their oars. I dropped my loot somewhere aft. The boat was -got afloat. The girl—who had all at once got as frightened of the sea -as a two-year-old child—I lifted in my arms, carried through three -feet of water, and put aboard. I followed. -</p> - -<p> -A wild-looking figure came tearing after us down the slope. There were -others, but he was in front, and I noticed him particularly. He was a -tall, thin old party, dressed in yellow, with a bald head, and a face -that looked like a corpse’s in the moonlight. It was yellow, like his -dress. As wicked a physiognomy as ever I set eyes upon. He was in a -towering rage. When he got down to the shore we were in deep water, -perhaps twenty yards away. He seemed so anxious to get at us I -expected to see him start swimming after us. Not a bit of it. I rather -imagine that the people just thereabouts were not fond of water in any -form. He refused to allow the sea to damp so much as the tips of his -toes. He screamed at us instead—to my surprise, in English—not bad -English either. -</p> - -<p> -“The Joss! The Great Joss! Give us back our Joss!” -</p> - -<p> -“Wouldn’t you like it?” I returned. -</p> - -<p> -I wasn’t over civil, not liking his looks. I wondered if he had had a -hand in burning the girl’s mother. He looked that sort of man. -</p> - -<p> -He raised his hands above his head and cursed us. He looked a quaint -figure, standing there in the moon’s white rays. And ugly too. -Dangerous if he had a chance. His voice was not a loud one, but he had -a trick of getting it to travel. -</p> - -<p> -“You dog! you thief! you accursed! you have stolen from us the Great -Joss! But do not think that you can keep him. Wherever you may take -him, though it be across the black water, to the land beyond the sun, -we will follow. He shall be ours again. As for you, the flesh shall -fall from off you; the foul waters shall rot your bones; you shall -stink! Mocker of the gods!” -</p> - -<p> -There was a good deal more of it. He continued his observations till -we were out of hearing. Repeating that he would follow us pretty well -everywhere before he would allow that Great Joss to be a bad debt. -Though he was a barbarian and loose in his geography, it struck me -that he meant what he said. If he could have laid his hands on me, and -have had me in a position where I couldn’t have laid mine on him, I -should have had a nice little experience before he’d done. That was -the kind of mood he was in. -</p> - -<p> -Long before he had said all that he had to say he was joined by quite -a crowd. When he had about cursed himself out, he started on a funny -little entertainment of another kind. He made a fire close down by the -sea. His friends formed about it in a circle. He stood in the centre. -As the flames rose and fell he dropped things on them, stuff which -smoked and burned in different colours. The sort of rubbish which boys -in England buy in ha’porths and penn’orths, and make themselves a -nuisance with. Possibly, out there it costs more, so is thought a lot -of. As he put his rubbish on his fire, his friends moved round first -one way and then the other, behaving themselves generally like -fantastic idiots. And he threw himself into attitudes which would have -been a photographer’s joy. I had an impression that he was calling -down the wrath of the gods upon our heads, and doing it in style. -</p> - -<p> -Our return to the ship created a good deal of excitement. One might -lay long odds that every man on board had been watching, for all that -he was worth, whatever there was to watch, without being able to make -head or tail of what he had seen. So that our arrival just gave the -final touch to the general curiosity. -</p> - -<p> -The things, whose departure those gentlemen on shore were weeping for, -were got on board. The Great Joss wanted to be hoisted up in his -palanquin. When I pointed out that there were obstacles in the way, he -came out of it with a rush and shinned up the ship’s side like a -monkey. His appearance on deck made things lively. The men took him -for the devil, and shrank from him as such. Not wanting any more fuss -than might be helped, I led the way down the companion as fast as I -could. He came after me. Goodness alone knows how. It seemed to me he -was as handy on no legs as some people upon two. His daughter -followed. -</p> - -<p> -I had been turning matters over in my mind coming along. There had -never been such a thing as a passenger known on <i>The Flying Scud</i>. At -that moment there was a vacant two-berth cabin suited to people who -might not be over and above particular. The Great Joss and his friend -Luke should have it. The Great Joss’ daughter should have Luke’s -quarters. -</p> - -<p> -When Luke appeared he professed himself agreeable. Indeed, too -agreeable. There was an eagerness about the way in which he snatched -at my suggestion which made me thoughtful even in that first moment. -It was against nature that a man should be half beside himself with -delight at the prospect of being berthed with such a monster. As I -eyed Luke, noting the satisfaction which he was unable to conceal, I -wondered what was at the back of it. -</p> - -<p> -However, so things were settled. Mr. Batters and the first mate were -placed together. Miss Batters had the first mate’s quarters. -</p> - -<p> -When I got on deck again land was out of sight: I was disposed for -solitude and a quiet think. But I wasn’t to have them. I soon became -conscious that Isaac Rudd was taking peeps at me. He kept coming up -out of the engine room, an oily rag in his hand, and a sort of air -about him as if he wondered when I proposed to speak to him. At last I -took the hint. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Mr. Rudd, what is it?” -</p> - -<p> -He came up, wiping his paws with his oily rag. His manner was -sententious. -</p> - -<p> -“I thought, sir, that you might have something which you wished to say -to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“About what?” -</p> - -<p> -“This little game.” -</p> - -<p> -“What little game?” -</p> - -<p> -“The one we’ve just been playing. You see we’ve all been taking a hand -in it, and there’s a kind of feeling aboard this ship that there might -be something a little delicate about it, which might bring us into -trouble before we’ve done. And no man likes to take a risk—for -nothing.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see. That’s it. You know me, and you know that I’m as good as my -word. You may tell the men from me that if the venture is brought -safely into port, and turns out what I expect, it will be twenty-five -pounds in the pockets of every man on board this ship, and a hundred -for each officer.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what for the first engineer?” With that confounded oil rag of his -he wiped his scrubby chin. “I’m thinking that, under the -circumstances, I shouldn’t like to guarantee that the engines ’ll last -out for a hundred pounds. They’re just a lot of bits of iron tied -together with scraps of string. To keep them going will mean sleepless -nights.” -</p> - -<p> -I laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“Are they so bad as that? I’m sorry to hear it, Mr. Rudd. Rudd, you’re -a blackguard. You want to rob your captain—and the owners.” -</p> - -<p> -“Damn the owners!” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s against Scripture. An owner’s always blessed.” -</p> - -<p> -“He’ll never be upon the other side if he sends a ship to sea with -such engines as we have.” -</p> - -<p> -“They are a trial, aren’t they, Rudd?” -</p> - -<p> -“They’re that.” -</p> - -<p> -“So I think we may say that, under the circumstances, if the engines -do last out, it will mean five hundred pounds in the pocket of the -chief engineer.” -</p> - -<p> -“Five hundred pounds? I’m not denying it’s an agreeable sum. I’d like -to handle it. And it’ll be no fault of mine if the machine blows up -before it’s just convenient. There’s just one other question I’d like -to put to you. Is it the devil that we’ve took aboard?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not. But it’s something that’s seen the devil face to face, and -tasted of hell fire.” -</p> - -<p> -Turning on my heel I left Isaac to make of my words what he could. A -variety of matters demanded my immediate consideration. I had pledged -my word that every man on board that ship should, in case of a certain -eventuality, receive a definite sum of money. The promise was perhaps -a rash one. But there was reason behind it. It would have to be kept. -Then there were the owners to be considered—and myself. -</p> - -<p> -Where were the funds to come from with which to do these things? What -would they amount to, leaving fancy figures out. I should have to have -a clear understanding with the Great Joss. The sooner the better, -while I still, as it were, had a pull on him. Isaac Rudd had lost no -time. Neither would I. -</p> - -<p> -I went down the companion ladder to have that understanding. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch29"> -CHAPTER XXIX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE FATHER—AND HIS CHILD.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> cabin door was fastened. I rapped. Luke inquired from within— -</p> - -<p> -“Who’s there?” -</p> - -<p> -“I! Open the door.” So far as I could judge no attempt was made to do -as I requested. There were whispers instead. The voices were audible -though the words were not. I rapped again. “Do you hear? open this -door!” -</p> - -<p> -Luke replied. -</p> - -<p> -“Beggin’ your pardon, captain, but Mr. Batters isn’t feeling very -well. He hopes that you’ll excuse him.” -</p> - -<p> -A louder rapping. -</p> - -<p> -“Open this door.” -</p> - -<p> -There were sounds which suggested that something was being done in a -hurry; an exchange of what were apparently expostulatory murmurs. Then -the Great Joss spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“This is my cabin, Captain Lander——” -</p> - -<p> -I cut him short. -</p> - -<p> -“Your cabin!” I brought my fist against the door with a bang. “If you -don’t open at once, I’ll have the ship put about, take you back from -where you came, and dump you on shore. I’m in command here, and all -the cabins in this ship are mine. Now, which is it to be—open?—or -back?” -</p> - -<p> -Luke began to mutter excuses. -</p> - -<p> -“If you’ll just wait five minutes, captain——” -</p> - -<p> -I felt convinced that they were doing something they didn’t wish me to -see, and which was highly desirable that I should see. I didn’t wait -for Luke to finish. I just planted my shoulder against the door, and -heaved. It leaped open. I had counted on the fastenings being rickety. -There was Luke and the Great Joss with their hands full of papers and -things which they had evidently just been attempting to conceal. The -girl stood looking on. I took off my cap to her. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Batters, I wish to speak to your father in private. Might I ask -you to leave us.” She went without a word. I turned to Luke. “Mr. -Luke, go up on deck, and wait there till I come.” -</p> - -<p> -There was an ugly look on his face. -</p> - -<p> -“If you don’t mind, captain, I should just like——” -</p> - -<p> -“Do as I tell you, sir or you cease to be an officer on board this -ship.” He saw that I meant business; moved towards the door. “You -needn’t trouble to take those things with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Put them down, you fool,” growled Mr. Batters. -</p> - -<p> -Luke put them down, and departed, not looking exactly pretty. When he -had gone, pushing the door to I stood with my back against it. The -Great Joss and I exchanged glances. He spoke first. -</p> - -<p> -“You’ve a queer way of doing things.” -</p> - -<p> -“I have. Of which fact your presence here is an illustration.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve not shipped as one of your crew. I’m a passenger.” -</p> - -<p> -“At present. Whether you continue to be so depends on one or two -things. One is that you behave. You come from a place where there are -some queer customs.” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean by that?” -</p> - -<p> -“What I say.” He winced in a fashion I did not understand, causing me -to surmise that the customs in question might be even queerer than I -supposed. “The first time, Mr. Batters, you show disrespect for any -orders I may give, or wishes I may express, the ship goes round—you -go back. I fancy your friends will be glad to receive you back among -them.” -</p> - -<p> -He glared at me with his one eye in a manner I did not altogether -relish. There was an uncanniness about his looks, his ways, his every -movement. As he confronted me, squatted on the floor, he was the most -repulsive-looking object I had ever seen. It was hard to believe that -such a creature could be human. And English! The sight of him filled -me with a sense of nausea. I hastened to go on. -</p> - -<p> -“There is another point on which your continuance as a passenger -depends. What do you propose to pay for your passage?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve told you—halves.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is too indefinite. I want something more definite. Moreover, it -is the rule for passage money to be paid in advance.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you prefer that way of doing business you shall have a hundred -pounds apiece for us, and I’ll give you the money now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that all? Then the ship goes round.” -</p> - -<p> -“You shall have more if you’ll only wait.” -</p> - -<p> -“How long?” -</p> - -<p> -“Till I’ve had time to look about me. You can’t expect me to have -everything cut and dried before I’ve been on board ten minutes. You -see these things?” I did. They were everywhere. I wondered where Luke -and he proposed to sleep. “They’re worth a million pounds.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense!” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not nonsense, you——fool.” -</p> - -<p> -The opprobrious epithet was seasoned with a profusion of adjectives. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Batters, that is not the way in which to address the commander of -a ship. As I see that you and I are not likely to understand each -other I will give instructions to put the ship about at once, and take -you back. It’s plain I made a mistake in having anything to do with -you.” -</p> - -<p> -I made as if to go. -</p> - -<p> -“Stop, you idiot!” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Batters? What did you observe?” -</p> - -<p> -“I apologise! I apologise! What you say is right. I have been used to -rummy ways. I can’t slough ’em at sight. Even a snake takes time to -change its skin. But when you talk about the value I set on the things -I’ve got here being nonsense, it’s you who’re mistaken, not me. Look -at that!” -</p> - -<p> -He held up a hideous-looking image. I took it from him, to find it -heavier than I had expected. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s gold—solid. Weighs every bit of twenty pounds, sixteen ounces -to the pound. It’s got diamonds for eyes, twenty-five or thirty carats -apiece; pearls for teeth, and its forehead is studded with opals. The -stones in the rings, bracelets, and bangles are all real. I tell you -what you’re holding in your hands is not worth far short of fifty -thousand pounds.” -</p> - -<p> -“It may be so. I’m no judge of such things. But what proof have I of -the correctness of your statements?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s it; what proof have you? You’ve only my word. You may cut my -heart out if I’m wrong. And what I say is this. When we get to London -we’ll have them all sold, or else valued—whichever you please. You -shall either have half the things—toss for first choice, then choose -turn and turn about; or half of whatever they fetch.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll give me a written undertaking to that effect?” -</p> - -<p> -“I will.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I can take an inventory of everything you have?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you like.” -</p> - -<p> -“And remove them to my cabin for safer custody?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you think that they will be safer there. You can stow ’em in the -hold for all I mind. All I want is for them to be safe, and have my -fair half. Only I don’t see what harm they’ll do in here, except that -you’ve bursted off the lock, which is a thing as can be replaced. I’m -not likely to leave the ship, and I’ll watch it that they don’t go -without me.” -</p> - -<p> -There seemed reason in what he said. It sounded fair; above-board -enough. Though every pulse shrunk from his near neighbourhood, crying -out that there was that about him which was good neither for man nor -beast, I could not but admit to myself that this was so. -</p> - -<p> -I was still holding in my hand the obscene image which, according to -him, was worth fifty thousand pounds. I had been watching Mr. Batters. -Glancing from him to it I saw that, perched upon its head, was a -little doll-like looking figure, as long, perhaps, as my middle -finger. It was not there a second before. I wondered whence it came, -how it retained its place. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s this?” I asked. -</p> - -<p> -“That?” There was a curious something in Mr. Batters’ tone which set -my nerves all jangling. “Where I’ve been they call that the God of -Fortune. It’s my very own god. It watches over me. When you see it I’m -never far away.” -</p> - -<p> -I reached out my disengaged hand to take hold of it for examination. -But I seemed to have grown dizzy all of a sudden, and clumsy. It must -have been because I was clumsy that, instead of grasping it, I knocked -it off its perch. It fell to the floor. I stooped to pick it up. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think you’ll find it. I expect it’s gone.” -</p> - -<p> -It did seem to have gone. Or perhaps my sudden dizziness prevented my -seeing so small an object in the imperfect light. I certainly did feel -strangely giddy. So overpowered was I by most unusual sensations that, -yielding the £50,000 horror into Mr. Batters’ outstretched hand, -almost before I knew I found myself on the other side of the cabin -door. -</p> - -<p> -I staggered up on deck. The night air did me good. I drew great -breaths. The giddiness passed. I began to ask myself what could have -caused it. Had Mr. Batters been practising a little hocus pocus? -Playing up to the part of the Great Joss? If I had been sure, I would -have put the ship about right there and then. Back he should have -gone, to play the part out to the end. -</p> - -<p> -Luke hailed me. -</p> - -<p> -“Beggin’ pardon, captain, but may I go below? Mine’s the next watch. I -should like a wink of sleep.” -</p> - -<p> -“You may. A word with you before you go. You got me into this -business. I’m not sure I thank you. What do you know about this man -Batters?” -</p> - -<p> -He looked up at the stars, as if for an answer to my question. -</p> - -<p> -“Him and me was boys together.” -</p> - -<p> -“And since?” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ve come across each other once or twice. But it’s half a lifetime -since we met.” -</p> - -<p> -“You seem to have recognised each other pretty quickly when you did -meet.” -</p> - -<p> -“He knew me. I didn’t know him. And never should have done—never. I -can’t hardly believe now it’s the Ben Batters I used to know. Only -he’s proved it.” -</p> - -<p> -“How came he to be what he is?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s more than I can say. He hasn’t told me no more than he’s told -you. He always was a hot ’un, Ben was. Bound to get into a mess before -he’d done. Always a-fightin’. But I never thought he’d have come to -this. Fine figure of a man he used to be. They must have took the skin -right off him—used him something cruel.” -</p> - -<p> -I shuddered at the thought. Better to have died a dozen deaths. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you think he’s to be trusted?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well—as for trustin’—that depends. Seems to me no one’s to be -trusted more than you can help.” -</p> - -<p> -I felt, as he went, that he had summed up his own philosophy. He -trusted no one. It was the part of wisdom for no one to trust him. I -wished that, in my haste, I hadn’t berthed the two together. The first -excuse which offered Luke should be shifted. I did not like the notion -of such a pair hobnobbing. The stake was too big. -</p> - -<p> -Someone touched me on the arm. It was the girl. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Batters! You ought to be in your berth. It’s late.” -</p> - -<p> -Her answer surprised me. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid.” -</p> - -<p> -She stood so close that I could hear a little fluttering noise in her -throat, as if she found it hard to breathe. I wondered if she was -affected by the motion. She did not look as if she were. She was -straight as a dart. And beautiful. -</p> - -<p> -“Afraid? Of what?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of the water. There is trouble on the sea. Evil spirits live on it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You needn’t be afraid of evil spirits while you’re with me. Who’s put -such notions into your head? English girls aren’t afraid of the sea. -And you are English.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it alive?” -</p> - -<p> -“Is what alive?” -</p> - -<p> -“The ship?” -</p> - -<p> -“The ship!” -</p> - -<p> -“What makes it go? It rushes through the water; it trembles, I feel it -trembling beneath my feet; it makes a noise.” -</p> - -<p> -“Those are the engines.” -</p> - -<p> -“The engines? Are they alive?” -</p> - -<p> -“Alive? Yes, while Mr. Rudd and his friends keep feeding them they’re -alive. Come and have a look at them.” -</p> - -<p> -“No. I dare not. I’m afraid.” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s nothing to be afraid of. This is a steamer. The engines drive -it along. Don’t you know what a steamer is? Haven’t you ever heard of -one?” -</p> - -<p> -She shook her head. I didn’t know what to make of her. Her ignorance -was something beyond my experience. Presently she was off on a fresh -tack. -</p> - -<p> -“Is England far?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pretty well. If we’ve luck we shall get there in about a month.” -</p> - -<p> -“A month?—four weeks?” I nodded. “I cannot live—four weeks—upon the -sea!” -</p> - -<p> -She gave what seemed to me to be a gasp of horror. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, yes, you can. You’ll get to love it before you’ve done.” -</p> - -<p> -“Love it! Love the sea! No one ever loves the sea.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t they? That’s where you’re wrong. I do, for one.” -</p> - -<p> -“My lord!” -</p> - -<p> -All in a second down she flopped upon the deck. I was never so -flummoxed in my life. I couldn’t think what was wrong. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Batters! What is wrong?” -</p> - -<p> -She turned her lovely face up to me—still on her knees. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you the lord of the sea?” -</p> - -<p> -“The lord of the sea! For goodness sake get up. The watch ’ll think -you’re mad. Or that I’m threatening to murder you.” I had to lift her -before she’d move. Then she seemed reluctant to stand upright in my -august presence. I tried my best to disabuse her mind of some of her -wild notions. “I’m a plain sailor man, I am. I’ve sailed the sea, boy -and man, the best part of my life; east and west, north and south. And -though I don’t mind owning I like a spell of dry land for a change, it -would be strange if I hadn’t grown to love it. I’m ready to grumble at -it with any man. I’m no more lord of the sea than you are. I’m just -captain of this ship. That’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are the captain of this ship.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s it, Miss Batters.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why do you call me that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Call you what?” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Batters. I am not Miss Batters. I am Susan.” -</p> - -<p> -I had been looking away. When she said that I looked at her. I wished -I hadn’t. There was something on her face—in her eyes—which set me -all of a flutter. Something had come to me since I had entered those -waters. I didn’t use to be easily upset. I couldn’t make it out at -all. I couldn’t meet her glance, but looked down, smoothing the deck -with the toe of my shoe, not recognising the sound of my own voice -when I heard it. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know that I quite care for the name of Susan. I think I -prefer—Susie.” -</p> - -<p> -“Susie? What is that?” -</p> - -<p> -“That—that’s the name your friends will call you.” -</p> - -<p> -“My friends?” She gave another little gasp. “Susie?” To hear her say -it! “But I have no friends.” -</p> - -<p> -“You will have; heaps.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I have none now. Not one.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well——” -</p> - -<p> -I cleared my throat. I had never been so stuck for a word before. -Could have kicked myself for being such a fool. She took my -clownishness as implying a reproach. I could tell it from her tone. -</p> - -<p> -“No. I have no friend. Not one.” -</p> - -<p> -I made another effort. I wasn’t lacking as a rule. I couldn’t -understand what ailed me then. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it’s early days for me to speak of friendship, since I’ve only -known you for an hour or two; but if I might make so bold, Miss -Batters——” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Batters!” She stamped her foot, her little bare foot. “I am not -Miss Batters. I am Susie.” Her tone had changed with a vengeance. Her -manner too. She was every inch a queen. A few feet more. “Can I not be -Susie to you?” -</p> - -<p> -I turned away. I only wanted to get hold of myself. She put my head in -such a whirl. But before I had a chance of finding out whereabouts I -was her voice rang out like a boatswain’s whistle. -</p> - -<p> -“I hate sailor men.” I turned again to stare. “And I hate the sea!” -</p> - -<p> -Before I could slip a word in edgeways she had swung herself round and -vanished down the companion ladder. I took off my cap to wipe my -forehead. Though the night was cool my brow was damp with sweat. -</p> - -<p> -“This is going to be a lively voyage, on my word!” -</p> - -<p> -I had never said a truer thing since the day that I was born. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch30"> -CHAPTER XXX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE MORNING’S NEWS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was a lively voyage! Oh, yes! For those who like that kind of -liveliness. -</p> - -<p> -Everything went wrong, just in the old sweet way. Rudd had to sleep -with his engines. As sure as he turned his back on them for five -consecutive minutes something happened. I began to wonder if we -shouldn’t have got on faster if we had had sweeps aboard. You don’t -often see hands starting to row a steamer along. But anything was -better than standing still; or being blown back—which was worse. It -was no use rigging a sail against the winds we had, or we might have -tried that. But the wind was against us, like everything else. -</p> - -<p> -The weather seemed to have cleared on purpose to give us a chance of -getting the Great Joss aboard. It broke again directly afterwards. -More than once, and more than twice, I wished it hadn’t. Then perhaps -we shouldn’t have been favoured with the company of Mr. Batters. In -shipping him we’d shipped a Tartar. I became inclined to the belief -that we owed half of our bad luck to him. The crew was dead sure that -at his door could be laid the lot of it. They swore he was the devil -himself, or his brother. -</p> - -<p> -I wasn’t sure they were far out. Either what he had gone through had -affected his brain, or he was possessed by the spirit of mischief, or -there was something uncanny about him. I never knew anything like the -tricks he was up to. Weather had no effect on him. As for decent -hours, he scorned them. It’s my belief that what sleep he had was in -the day. I know he was awake pretty well all night. -</p> - -<p> -Once I was dragged out of my berth in the middle of the night because -he was frightening the watch out of their senses. When I got on deck I -found a heavy sea. Everything sopping. The seas breaking over the -scuppers. Pitch darkness. And Mr. Batters up in the tops. The crew -were of opinion that he was holding communion with his friends in -hell. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He looked as if he was at -something of the kind. -</p> - -<p> -How he kept his place was a wonder. Although he had no legs he seemed -to have a knack of gluing himself to whatever he pleased. Up there he -had an illumination all on his own. It must have been visible for -miles across the sea. He had smeared himself and everything about him -with something shiny, phosphorus or something. He always was playing -tricks with stuffs of the kind. It made him look as if he was covered -with flames. He was waving his arms and going through an acrobatic -performance. Snakes were twining themselves about the illuminated -rigging. The old villain had smuggled a heap of them in his palanquin. -He lived with them as if they were members of his family. They seemed -to regard him as akin. Talk about snake charming! I believe that at a -word from him they would have flown at anyone just as certainly as a -dog would have done. -</p> - -<p> -No wonder the watch didn’t altogether relish his proceedings. I sang -out: -</p> - -<p> -“Come down out of that, Mr. Batters, before there’s trouble.” -</p> - -<p> -I did put a bullet into one of his precious snakes. It was this way. -</p> - -<p> -I had a revolver in my hand. The boat gave a lurch. The trigger must -have caught my coat sleeve. It snapped. There was a flash. A report. -One of his snakes straightened itself out against the blackness like a -streaming ribbon. You could see it gleam for a moment. Then it -vanished. I suppose it dropped into the sea. A good thing too. The -idea was that it had been hit by that unintentional shot. I can only -say that if that was the case it was the victim of something very like -a miracle. -</p> - -<p> -Old Batters understood what had happened long before I did. He came -down that rigging like ten mad monkeys. And he went for me like -twenty. If the watch hadn’t been there he’d have sent me after that -snake. It took the lot of us to get the best of him. If the men had -had their way they’d have dropped him overboard. -</p> - -<p> -I wished I had let them before I finished. -</p> - -<p> -A more artful old dodger never breathed. I drew up the agreement of -the spoils; but it was days before I could get him to set his hand to -it. At first he pretended he couldn’t write. As it happened I had seen -him write. It seemed to me he was always writing. When at last I had -induced him to sign, in the presence of Luke, Rudd, and Holley, he -eluded me on the subject of the inventory. I could not get one. His -stock of excuses was inexhaustible. And they were all so plausible. It -is true that I made notes of a good many things without his knowledge. -But a formal inventory I never had. As to my suggestion that at least -the more valuable things should be removed to my cabin for safe -custody, when I renewed it he expressed his willingness on conditions -that he went with them, and his snakes. I declined. On those terms I -preferred that he should remain custodian. -</p> - -<p> -Then there was his intimacy with Luke. That continued, in spite of my -attempts to stop it. Though they grew slacker when I began to suspect -that after all Mr. Luke might not be on such good terms with his -boyhood’s friend as he perhaps desired. -</p> - -<p> -I got my first hint in this direction when, one afternoon, someone was -heard bellowing in Mr. Batters’ cabin like a bull. I made for it. I -found Mr. Luke upon the floor; his friend upon his chest; his friend’s -hands about his throat. He was not bellowing just then. Mr. Batters -had squeezed the grip right out of him. He was purple. In about -another minute he would have known what death by strangulation meant. -We got his dear friend off him. The dear friend said unkind things -about Mr. Luke. -</p> - -<p> -By the time we had brought the first mate round he was about as limp a -man as you might wish to see. He made one remark, which was -unprintable. He turned round in his bunk, where we had laid him, and -for all I know he went to sleep. -</p> - -<p> -Since, before that, I had taken care to see that he was berthed apart -from Mr. Batters, there was nothing to disturb his slumber. -</p> - -<p> -After that I did not feel it necessary to keep quite so sharp an eye -on the attentions which he paid our passenger. They did not seem to be -so friendly as they had been before. -</p> - -<p> -As if I hadn’t enough to plague me, there was the girl. When I begin -to write of her my language becomes mixed. As were my feelings at the -time. And there were moments when she got me into such a state that I -didn’t know if I was standing on my head or heels. -</p> - -<p> -She was her father’s own child, though it seemed like sacrilege to -connect the two. Insubordination wasn’t in it along with her. She -twisted me round her finger. Except when I stiffened my back, and felt -like stowing her in the long-boat, and cutting it adrift, with a bag -of biscuit and a can of water. And then five minutes afterwards I’d -feel like suicide for ever having thought of such a thing. -</p> - -<p> -She wore me to a shadow. -</p> - -<p> -The sea agreed with her far better than I had expected, or she either, -especially considering the weather we had. She was all over the boat. -All questions, like a child. There was nothing you could tell her -enough about. It was extraordinary how the taste for imparting -information grew on one. If you didn’t explain everything that could -be explained, and a good deal that couldn’t, it wasn’t for want of -trying. She had got together a mixed up lot of facts before she had -been upon that vessel long. Because when you begin to look into things -you find that there are a good many you think you know all about till -a sharp-witted young woman starts you on to telling her all you do -know. Then, before you’ve time to wriggle, you are stuck. There are -men who sooner than get that will say anything. -</p> - -<p> -It is bad enough to feel you are making a fool of yourself when the -subject is why steamers don’t sink when they’re floating, or why -engines shove them along, or that kind of thing. But when the -question’s what love is, and you feel but can’t tell, it’s worse. -</p> - -<p> -“Why do you say you love me?” -</p> - -<p> -I had mentioned to her casually that I did, being driven clean off my -balance before I knew it, though I meant every word I had said. And -about two hundred thousand more. In spite of my having had more -trouble with her old villain of a father that very afternoon. And -being full of hope that when it came to hanging him I should be there -to see. -</p> - -<p> -“Because I do.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what is love?” -</p> - -<p> -“Love? Why, love!” -</p> - -<p> -It was evening. The wind had been falling away all day. Now it was -dead calm, the first we had had since shipping Batters. We were -something over twelve hundred miles from Aden. There’s the exact spot -marked on my chart. But I should never forget it if it wasn’t. That -mark means adjectives. I had had it all out with Batters about our -route. The short cut was what he wanted. It was what I wanted too. But -what I did not want was to pay the Canal dues. In fact I couldn’t. -There was not enough money belonging to the ship on board. I hadn’t -told Batters as much as that, but I had made it clear to him that he’d -have to pay. So the arrangement stood that we were to come home by -Suez; and he was to hand me over the coin to take us through. We -should have to coal at Aden. How we had managed so far was beyond my -understanding. Rudd was a marvel. He would make a skip of coal go as -far as some men would a ton. Stores we had taken in here a little, and -there a little, living from hand to mouth. But we had bought no coal. -I had said to Rudd: -</p> - -<p> -“Shall we run into Colombo and have some put into our bunkers there?” -</p> - -<p> -He pondered—it was his way to ponder—then shook his head. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m thinking we’ll last to Aden. I’m thinking it. And I don’t seem to -fancy a stop at Colombo with Mr. Batters aboard.” -</p> - -<p> -I looked to see from his face if his words had any hidden meaning. -There seemed to be something behind everything he said, till you grew -tired of trying to find out what it was. He was always dropping hints, -was Rudd. There appeared to be nothing unusual about his -wooden-looking countenance. So I concluded to give his words their -dictionary meaning. -</p> - -<p> -“If you think we can last to Aden, we will. It will save time. And -coal’s cheaper there.” -</p> - -<p> -So it was settled. And now we were heading straight for Aden. The -weather had cleared. I had told that girl I loved her. Every vein in -my body was on fire because of it. Luke was on the bridge. I felt that -in spite of the darkness, and it was pretty dark—as well I -remember!—his eye was on us as much as on the ship’s course. We had -been walking up and down for exercise. She was leaning over the -taffrail apparently preparing to enter on a kind of philosophical -discussion about what love was. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it good to love?” -</p> - -<p> -“That depends.” -</p> - -<p> -My tone was grim. -</p> - -<p> -“Do I love you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should like to hear you say so.” -</p> - -<p> -“I love you.” -</p> - -<p> -I thought that was what she said. But she was leaning so far over, -seeming to be watching the smudge of soapsuds we were leaving behind -us, that I couldn’t quite catch her words. Though I was all of a -quiver to. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“I say I love you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Susie! Do you mean it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know. I don’t know what love is. How should I? I’m only a -savage. You said so the other day. I want telling things.” -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t want telling what love is.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you mean that you don’t want to tell me? You never will tell me -what I really want to know. I’ll ask one of the men. I’ll ask Luke. He -tells me things.” -</p> - -<p> -“Susie! Luke’s too fond of interfering in matters which are no -business of his. He’ll get himself into trouble before he’s done.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you dare to ask Luke what love is!” -</p> - -<p> -“Dare! I dare do anything. I’ll go and ask him now.” -</p> - -<p> -She’d have been off if I hadn’t caught her arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Susie! Don’t! For my sake!” -</p> - -<p> -“Then tell me!—tell me yourself!” -</p> - -<p> -Stamp went her foot. It was one of her favourite tricks. Directly she -lost patience down it went. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll tell you, if you’ll give me time.” I tried to find the words, -but couldn’t. I held out my arms instead. “It’s this.” -</p> - -<p> -“What?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you understand?” -</p> - -<p> -“What am I to understand?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you understand that I want you to be my wife?” -</p> - -<p> -“Your wife! Your wife!” She spoke in a crescendo scale, as if I had -insulted her. “You said you were my friend!” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you understand that I want to be something more than your -friend?” -</p> - -<p> -“You want to beat me! to use me like a dog! to have me burned!” -</p> - -<p> -“Susie!” -</p> - -<p> -“My father said in England there were no wives.” -</p> - -<p> -“No wives in England? He—he was making fun of you.” -</p> - -<p> -“He was not making fun of me. He has told me all my life. When I asked -him why they burned my mother, he said because she was his wife. He is -an Englishman. In England they have no wives.” -</p> - -<p> -I had a glimpse of the confusion which was in her mind. But at that -moment I was incapable of straightening out the evil. -</p> - -<p> -“Your—your father’s was a peculiar case. There are wives in England.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that true?” -</p> - -<p> -She thrust her face close to mine. She was terrifically in earnest. -</p> - -<p> -“It is perfectly true. They abound.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I will not go to England.” -</p> - -<p> -“But—Susie!—you’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick. In—in -England a wife’s the man’s superior.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a lie. See how you stammer. You cannot lie like my father with -an even tongue. A wife is her husband’s slave. At his bidding she -fetches and she carries. He beats her as he beats his dog. When she -grows old he takes another. And she dies.” -</p> - -<p> -“My—my dear Susie, I assure you that that description doesn’t apply -to England. There, unless she’s a wife, a woman isn’t happy.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then in England women are more unhappy than in the country from which -I come. I will not go there. I will not go to any place where there -are wives.” -</p> - -<p> -She strode past me as I stared at her, thunderstruck. I continued -thunderstruck when she had gone. -</p> - -<p> -She had a deal to learn. -</p> - -<p> -That night I slept badly. In the morning I was roused by someone -hammering at the door. -</p> - -<p> -“Who’s there?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s me, sir; Holley. The cutter’s gone.” -</p> - -<p> -“What!” -</p> - -<p> -“The cutter’s gone. And the watch is hocussed.” -</p> - -<p> -I was standing at the door in my nightshirt. -</p> - -<p> -“What the devil do you mean? Where’s Mr. Luke?” -</p> - -<p> -“He had the morning watch. He’s gone too. It’s his chaps as is -hocussed. Leastways, they’re lying on the deck like logs. And Mr. -Batters, he’s gone. And his things. His cabin’s stripped clean. And -his daughter, she’s gone.” -</p> - -<p> -“Holley!” -</p> - -<p> -I was thrusting myself into a pair of trousers. All of a sudden the -ship stopped dead, with an unpleasant shock. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s that? She can’t have struck!” -</p> - -<p> -I rushed up. Rudd met me. -</p> - -<p> -“I have to report to you, sir, that the engine’s ceased to work.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well. Patch it up and start it again as soon as you can. It’s -not the first time it’s stopped.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I’m thinking it’ll be the last. Someone’s been playing tricks -with the machine. I’m fearing it’s Mr. Luke.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch31"> -CHAPTER XXXI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE TERMINATION OF THE VOYAGE OF “THE FLYING SCUD.”</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">We</span> had been completely done. So completely that it was some time -before I was able to realise that I had been diddled quite to that -extent. Not a detail had been overlooked. Mr. Batters and Mr. Luke had -gone conscientiously to work. They had been thorough. They had left us -the ship. That was about all. They would probably have taken that if -they had had any use for it. It seemed they hadn’t. If I could only -have laid hands on that latest thing in freaks, there would have been -one Joss less. I would willingly have made a Joss of Luke if I had -only had a chance. To have boiled, burned, and skinned him would have -been a pleasure. He should not only have been legless, he should have -been armless too. As for that girl, who didn’t want to go to a place -where there were any wives, she should have become acquainted with a -climate where there was something less agreeable. -</p> - -<p> -That was how I felt towards her at first. But after a while I came to -the conclusion that she had been under the domination of her father. -Hadn’t dared to call her soul her own. So anger turned to pity. I -would just simply take her to a place where there were wives. I’d let -her know what it felt like to be one. That would be punishment enough -for her. -</p> - -<p> -As for Luke and Batters! What wouldn’t I have given for a quiet half -hour with the pair, with boiling oil, branding irons, and everything -just handy. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Luke must have stowed pretty well all our eatable stores inside -that cutter. As first mate, under peculiar circumstances, I had let -him do, in some respects, a good deal as he pleased. He had had the -run of the stores. He had not gone far from collaring the lot. It -seemed that certain of the hands had noticed him fiddling a good deal -with the cutter of late. Especially when he had been in charge of -either of the night watches. But, of course, they had said nothing to -me till it was too late, which was a pity. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Batters had taken with him all the treasures of the temple. Those -offerings of the faithful, half of which were to have been mine. No -wonder he had not been of opinion that they would have been safer in -my cabin. And he pledged his word that he would make it his especial -business to see that not one of them left the ship until he did. That -elegant monster which he valued at £50,000 had gone. Even the -palanquin. Oh, it was pretty! -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Luke had made everything snug by generously treating the members -of the morning watch to a little drink directly they came on duty. -That drink was no doubt one of Mr. Batters’ concoctions. They -remembered no more so soon as they swallowed it. So for four hours Mr. -Luke had the deck to himself. No watch was kept. The wheel was lashed. -The cutter was filled with the treasures of the temple, then lowered. -Goodness and Mr. Luke alone know how. And it must be remembered that -Mr. Batters was an ingenious man. -</p> - -<p> -It was reported from the engine room that the order was received to -“Go slow.” Probably while <i>The Flying Scud</i> went slow the cutter was -cast loose, with Mr. Batters and the girl inside it. Shortly -afterwards the order was changed to “Full steam ahead.” The inference -seems to be that immediately after giving that order the ingenious Mr. -Luke went overboard to join the cutter. And <i>The Flying Scud</i> went -full steam ahead, with no one on the look-out. Under the -circumstances, it was, perhaps, just as well that the engines did -break down. -</p> - -<p> -It’s an elegant story for the commander of a ship to have to write. -Especially one with a clean certificate, and of sober habits. There we -were, without engines, without coal, without stores, without enough -cargo to act as ballast, about half-way between Aden and Colombo. We -were a mad ship’s company. For my own part I felt like cutting any -man’s throat, including my own. All that day we hung about, doing -nothing, except cursing. -</p> - -<p> -Towards night, the engines proving hopeless, we rigged a sail. There -was just about enough wind to laugh at us. So we let it laugh us -along. There was no Canal for us. The man who was to have paid our -shot had gone—the shot with him. So we headed for the Cape. The long -way round was the only way for us. Engineless, the prospect was -inviting. -</p> - -<p> -There is no need to speak in detail of the remainder of that voyage, -no need at all. In one sense it was over—quite. In another it was -only just beginning. I won’t say how long it took us to reach home or -what we suffered before we got there. And will only hint that by the -time we sighted English waters, I felt as if I was a twin brother of -Methuselah’s. We hadn’t walked the entire distance, but we might -almost just as well have done. -</p> - -<p> -It was evening when I landed. There was a mist in the river. A -drizzling rain was falling. Appropriate weather with which to bid us -welcome home. The lights of London gleamed dimly through the fog and -wet. So soon as I had set foot on land I saw, coming at me through the -uncertain light, the individual who, as he stood with his friends upon -that moonlit shore, had cursed us for bearing the Great Joss to the -ship across the motionless waters of the Gulf of Tongking. -</p> - -<p> -Since that night we had ourselves anathematised someone else for -serving us as we had served him. -</p> - -<p> -I had only seen him once, and then from some little distance in the -moonshine, but there was no possibility of mistaken identity. This was -the man. He was dressed in the same fantastic garb, and came at me -like a ghost out of shadowland. He took me by the shoulders, and he -cried—as he had done upon that moon-kissed shore:— -</p> - -<p> -“The Great Joss! The Great Joss! Give us back the Great Joss!” -</p> - -<p> -Exactly what took place I cannot say. I was so taken aback by the -unexpectedness of the encounter—having never dreamed that I should -set eyes upon the man again—that, for some moments, sheer surprise -robbed me of my faculties. Before I was myself again, the man had -gone. Others had thrust him from me. Although I rushed here and there -among the people who stood about I could not find him. He had -vanished. -</p> - -<p> -I had swallowed a good many bitter pills since last I left that -wharf—the bitterest was still to come. I had to pay my visit to the -owners. On the night of my arrival it was too late to see them. The -pleasure was postponed to the morning. It was a pleasure! -</p> - -<p> -I came out from their presence a disgraced man. Which was no more than -I had expected, though it was no easier to bear on that account. The -blame was wholly mine. So they would have it. For some of the language -which they used to me I found it hard to keep my hands from off them. -My tale of the Great Joss, and of all that I had hoped to gain for -them by that adventure, they received with something more than -incredulity. If the thing had resulted as I had hoped, that they would -have pocketed their share of the spoils, and betrayed no scruples, I -knew them too well to doubt. But because, as I held, through no fault -of mine, the affair had miscarried, there was no epithet too -opprobrious for them to bestow on me. By their showing I had been -guilty of all sorts of crimes of which I had never heard. I had -betrayed their trust; smirched their good name—as if in the eyes of -those who knew them it could be smirched; been guilty of piracy; acted -like a common thief; offended against the law of nations; brought -shame on England’s mercantile marine. -</p> - -<p> -Oh, it was grand to hear them talking! They might have been saints -from whose brows I had plucked the halos. They were good enough to -explain that it was only because they disbelieved my entire story, and -placed no credence in any part of it whatever, that they refrained -from handing me over to the properly constituted authorities, to be by -them passed on to the Chinese Government, to be dealt with as my -offences merited. They took me for a jay. And were so kind as to add -that they looked upon the tale as a clumsy, dishonest, and -disingenuous attempt to draw a red herring across their track—the -phrase was theirs!—and so prevented them from taking proper and -adequate notice of the scandalous neglect of duty, and of their -interests, of which, to my lasting shame, I had been guilty. -</p> - -<p> -It was a rare wigging that I had. And, to the best of their ability, -they included in it everyone who had been with me on board <i>The Flying -Scud</i>. There were four of us, at least, who swore that we’d be even -for it with someone somehow. Isaac Rudd, Sam Holley, his chum, Bill -Cox, and I; we were the four. -</p> - -<p> -And all we had to go upon, to help us towards getting even, was a -scrap of paper. Half a sheet of common note. -</p> - -<p> -It was the only thing Mr. Batters had left behind him. I had found it -in a corner of his cabin, crumpled up into a sort of ball, as though -he had thrown it there and forgotten all about it. On it this was -written: -</p> - -<p> -“To my niece, Miss Mary Blyth, care of Messrs. Martin and Branxon, -Drapers, Shoreditch.” -</p> - -<p> -We would look the lady up. Where the niece was the uncle might not be -far away. At least she might have some knowledge of his whereabouts. -If she had we would have it too, or know the reason why. I still had -the written undertaking, which he had signed, by which he was to -divide with me equally, as a consideration for services rendered, the -treasures of the temple. I had handed this to the owners as proof of -the truth of my statements. They had thrown it back to me with a -sneer. And something worse than a sneer. -</p> - -<p> -That act amounted to a renunciation of all interest in any property -which the document conveyed, or so it seemed to me. Good! They might -smart for their scepticism yet. Let us find the niece; then the uncle. -If Miss Blyth could only give us a hint as to where he might be found, -though it was on the other side of the world, we’d find him. He had -valued his belongings at a million. We might be snatched out of the -gutter yet. -</p> - -<p> -The search began badly. They knew nothing of a Miss Blyth at Messrs. -Martin and Branxon’s, or so I was informed by an official individual -in the counting-house. That was a facer. It looked as if Mr. Batters, -at his tricks again, had purposely placed in our way what seemed like -a clue to his lair for the sake of having still another game with us. -But a night or two afterwards I tackled a young fellow as he was -coming out of the shop after closing hours, and put my question to -him. He turned it over in his mind before he answered. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s no Miss Blyth here now, but there was. I believe her name was -Mary. I could soon find out. She’s left some time; directly after I -came. I can’t think where she went. I’ve heard the name, but I can’t -remember. I might inquire if you like, and let you know to-morrow -night.” -</p> - -<p> -I agreed. He did inquire. The next night he let me know. Miss Blyth -had gone to a big shop, which he named, at Clapham. The next day, -being engaged, I let Rudd go over to Clapham to see what he could do. -</p> - -<p> -He made a mess of things. The lady was pointed out to him by one of -her fellow assistants. Before he could get within hail of her, she -slipped round a corner and was out of sight. Came across her again in -a restaurant where she couldn’t pay her bill. Paid it for her. Then, -as he was about to follow her, with a view of pursuing his inquiries, -he saw, standing on the pavement in front of the place, the individual -who had cursed us on that moonlit shore. -</p> - -<p> -The sight of him struck Rudd all of a heap. By the time he recovered -his presence of mind, the lady had vanished, and the gentleman too. -</p> - -<p> -The juxtaposition of Miss Blyth and that cursing gentleman seemed to -suggest that we were on the track of the retiring Mr. Batters. What is -more, that the scent was getting hot. -</p> - -<p> -The evening after I called at that Clapham establishment, just as the -premises were being closed, and asked to see Miss Blyth. Some -jackanapes informed me that the young woman had been dismissed that -very day. He didn’t know what her address was, but had heard that she -had gone off with a party who called himself Frank Paine, and who said -he was a lawyer. -</p> - -<p> -At that it was my turn to be struck all of a heap. A short time -previously I had called upon Mr. Frank Paine, intending to ask his -opinion as to the validity of the document which had Mr. Batters’ name -attached. But, somehow, the conversation got into other channels. I -came away without it. Not by so much as a word had he hinted that he -knew anything about Mr. Batters or his niece. -</p> - -<p> -As I walked along, pondering these things, Rudd, at my side, suddenly -exclaimed: -</p> - -<p> -“Captain, there she is! that’s Miss Blyth! the young lady for whom I -paid the bill!” -</p> - -<p> -He was pointing towards two young women who were advancing in our -direction, on the opposite side of the road. Having got it clear to -which of the pair he referred, I sailed across to meet them. She was -Miss Blyth. She admitted as much. But that was all the satisfaction I -received. She staggered me with the information that her uncle, Mr. -Benjamin Batters, was dead. As I was trying to understand how he had -come to his death, and when, and where, she took umbrage at my -curiosity, or manner, or something. She and her friend jumped into a -hansom cab, which dashed off at the rate of about twenty miles, -leaving Rudd and I on the kerbstone, staring after it like moonstruck -gabies. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch32"> -CHAPTER XXXII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE LITTLE DISCUSSION BETWEEN THE SEVERAL PARTIES.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">That</span> night we held a consultation. We four. It was getting dead low -tide with us. If we didn’t light upon those treasures of the temple, -we should have to find a ship instead. And that before long. If we had -to go aboard of her as cabin boys. -</p> - -<p> -It seemed to me that something might be got out of Mr. Paine. In the -way of information. Things pointed that way. The more I thought, the -more they seemed to point. I told the others. We decided to wait upon -him in a body. And man the pumps for all we were worth. If he proved -dry, if nothing could be got out of him, then we should have to admit -that the tide was low. And that we were stranded. But we had hopes. -</p> - -<p> -The morning after we were in Mitre Court, where his rooms were, -betimes. The idea was that he shouldn’t escape us, that we should see -him as soon as he was visible, and so play the part of the early bird -that catches the worm. But when we found that the door into the street -was open, I, knowing the lay of the land, without any parley, led the -way upstairs. And it was well for him we did. For we came upon as -lively a little scene as ever we’d encountered. -</p> - -<p> -There was a larger company assembled than we had expected. Quite what -was happening we couldn’t at once make out. The first thing I saw was -a girl tied down upon a table, and—of all people in the world—that -cursing gentleman leaning over her with a knife in his hand. Having -torn her clothes open at the throat, he looked as if he was going to -write his name on her nice white skin with the point of his blade. He -got no farther than the start. I introduced myself. And landed him -one. He didn’t seem to know whether he was glad or sorry to meet me. I -loosed the girl. When I looked round I saw the room was in a mess, and -on the floor, trussed like a fowl, was Mr. Paine. But what made me -almost jump out of skin for joy, was the sight of our dear friend Luke -tied up beside him. -</p> - -<p> -I released that excellent first officer. Then things were said. When -he understood that we were spoiling to cut him up into little pieces, -and that it seemed likely that he had fallen from the frying-pan into -the fire, he explained. What we wanted to know was the present address -at which Mr. Batters could be found. It seemed, according to him, that -he was aching to know it too. -</p> - -<p> -“Bless my beautiful eyes!” He spat upon the floor. “Do you think if I -knew where the hearty was that I’d be here? He used me shameful, he -did that.” -</p> - -<p> -“It seems incredible that he should have used you badly, Mr. Luke.” -</p> - -<p> -“It does. After all I’d done for him. But he did. After we——” -</p> - -<p> -He coughed. I finished his sentence. -</p> - -<p> -“Had taken such a ceremonious leave of us all on board <i>The Flying -Scud</i>. Yes? Go on.” -</p> - -<p> -“We got picked up by a liner as was making Suez.” -</p> - -<p> -“As you anticipated you would be. I see. You’re a far-sighted person, -Mr. Luke.” -</p> - -<p> -“They landed us at Suez. We stopped there two or three days getting -packing-cases to—to——” -</p> - -<p> -“To pack the treasures of the temple in. They must have been rather -conspicuous objects to carry about with you anyhow. Go on.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then hang me if one evening I didn’t wake up and find that I’d been -senseless for close on two days. The devil had hocussed me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hocussed you? Impossible!” -</p> - -<p> -“He had. Then he’d slipped away, him and his blessed daughter, while I -was more dead than alive, leaving me with as good as nothing in my -pockets. What I had to go through no one knows. If I ever do set eyes -on him again, I’ll——” -</p> - -<p> -The peroration was a study of adjectives. -</p> - -<p> -“Then it appears that you are just as eager to have another interview -with Mr. Benjamin Batters as we are. I am sorry your venture was not -attended with better fortune. It deserved success. Pray what were you -to have had out of it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I was to have had half the blooming lot. And the girl——” -</p> - -<p> -“And the girl! Indeed? And the girl! Mr. Luke, I should dearly -like——” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine interposed. -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, Captain Lander, but if it is of Mr. Benjamin Batters you -are speaking, if it is to him so many mysterious references have been -made as the Great Joss, then I may state that, to the best of my -knowledge and belief, that gentleman is dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“Dead?—to the best of your knowledge and belief?—what do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -As I stared at him, a remark was made by the young lady who so -narrowly escaped being made the subject of an experiment in carving. -Although evidently very far from being as much herself as she might -have been, she had pulled herself together a little, and was holding -both hands up to her throat. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re forgetting that Pollie’s lying perhaps worse than dead in -Camford Street.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine gave a jump. -</p> - -<p> -“I had forgotten it!—upon my honour!” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s that?” I asked. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Blyth—to whom Miss Purvis refers as Pollie—is the niece of the -Mr. Batters of whom we have been speaking. She’s his heiress, in -fact.” -</p> - -<p> -“His heiress?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; his sole residuary legatee. Among other things he left her a -house in Camford Street—No. 84—on somewhat mysterious conditions. -For instance, she was to allow no man to enter it.” -</p> - -<p> -“No man?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; only she and one feminine friend were ever to be allowed to put -their feet inside the door.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh?” -</p> - -<p> -I began to smell a rat. Mr. Paine waved his hand towards the young -lady the cursing gentleman had been about to practise on. -</p> - -<p> -“This is Miss Purvis, the feminine friend whom Miss Blyth chose to be -her sole companion. Other conditions were attached to the bequest -equally mysterious. Indeed, it would really seem as if there was -something in that house in Camford Street the existence of which the -late Mr. Batters was particularly anxious should be concealed from the -world. Miss Blyth only entered on the occupation of her property -yesterday. Yet Miss Purvis came at an early hour this morning to tell -me that something extraordinary had happened in the middle of the -night. Something, she doesn’t quite know what, but fancies it was some -wild animal, made a savage attack upon Miss Blyth without the -slightest provocation. And when Miss Purvis recovered from the shock -which the occurrence gave her, she found that she herself had been -thrown into the street.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr. Paine!” I laid my hand upon the lawyer’s shoulder. “Do you know -what’s inside that house?” -</p> - -<p> -“I haven’t the faintest notion. How should I have?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s the late Mr. Batters!” -</p> - -<p> -“The late Mr. Batters?” -</p> - -<p> -“The thing the existence of which Mr. Batters was most anxious to keep -concealed, was Mr. Batters himself—for reasons. So he’s put about a -cock and bull story making out he’s dead, and then hidden himself in -this house of which you’re talking.” -</p> - -<p> -“Captain Lander!” -</p> - -<p> -“Mind, it’s only my guess, as yet. But I don’t think you’ll find that -I’m sailing very wide of the wind. The more I turn things over, after -listening to what you’ve said, the more likely it seems to me that the -Great Joss, whom we’ve all been on tiptoe to get a peep at, has hidden -himself in that house which he pretends to have left to his niece, and -is waiting there for us to find him. And I’m off to do it!” -</p> - -<p> -“Someone’s had the start of you.” -</p> - -<p> -The interruption came from Rudd. The absence of the cursing gentleman, -and his two friends, explained his meaning. -</p> - -<p> -“They’ve gone hot-foot after him,” I cried. “What’s good enough for -them is good enough for me!” -</p> - -<p> -We journeyed in three cabs. Speed was a consideration. So we chartered -hansoms. I went in front with Luke. He didn’t seem over and above -anxious for my society. But I didn’t feel as if I could be comfortable -without him. So we went together. Though I am bound to admit that I’m -inclined to think that I enjoyed that ride more than he did. Rudd, -Holley, and his chum came next. Mr. Paine and the young lady last. I -liked his manner towards that young lady. In a lawyer, whom one -naturally looks upon as the most hard-hearted of human creatures, it -was beautiful. He could not have treated her more tenderly if she had -been a queen. And, though she was still in a very sad condition, I -have a sort of idea that, when they were once inside that cab, speed -with them wasn’t much of a consideration. -</p> - -<p> -And though those hansoms did rattle us along in style, we found that -someone had got to that house in Camford Street in front of us. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch33"> -CHAPTER XXXIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">IN THE PRESENCE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> cursing gentleman and his two friends were awaiting us upon the -pavement. I said a word of a kind to the long ’un. -</p> - -<p> -“Look here, my bald-headed friend, I don’t quite know who you are, or -what you want, but I’ve seen enough of your little ways to know -they’re funny; so if you take my advice you’ll make yourself scarce -before there’s trouble.” -</p> - -<p> -He held out his hands. Looking, on the dirty pavement of that shabby -street, like a fish out of water. -</p> - -<p> -“The Great Joss! The Great Joss! He is in there—give him back to -us—then we go.” -</p> - -<p> -I reflected. After all there was some reason in the creature. He was -almost as much interested in Mr. Batters as I was. Considering how Mr. -Batters had treated me I didn’t see why he shouldn’t learn what an -object of interest he really was. It might occasion him agreeable -surprise. The fellow was in such dead earnest. It beat me how he and -his friends had got where they were. Reminding me of the flocks of -migratory birds which one meets far out at sea. Goodness only knows by -what instinct they pursue the objects of their search. I turned to Mr. -Paine. -</p> - -<p> -“This gentleman was high priest, or something of the kind, in the -temple in which Mr. Batters was Number One God.” -</p> - -<p> -“Number One God?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s about the size of it. He was a god when I first made his -acquaintance. This gentleman’s own particular. Since he and his -friends have come a good many thousand miles to get another peep at -him, I don’t think there’ll be much harm in letting him have one if -it’s to be got. So, so far as I’m concerned, right reverend sir, you -can stop and see the fun.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine stared. He didn’t understand. The look with which he -regarded the foreign gentleman wasn’t friendly. The experience he had -had of his peculiar methods was a trifle recent. Perhaps it rankled. -</p> - -<p> -I turned my attention to the house in front of which the lot of us -were standing, cabs and all. -</p> - -<p> -“The question is, since no one seems inclined to open the door, how we -are going to get in to enable us to pay our little morning call.” -</p> - -<p> -Rudd practically suggested one way by hurling himself against the door -as if he had been a battering ram. He might as well have tried his -luck against a stone wall. As much impression would have been made. -When I ran my stick over it, it sounded to me like a sheet of metal. -</p> - -<p> -Luke proffered his opinion. -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll want a long chisel for this job. Or a pair. Nothing else ’ll -do it. That door’s been put there to keep people out. Not to let ’em -in. It’ll be like breaking into a strong room.” -</p> - -<p> -Luke proved right. All our efforts were unavailing. That door had been -built to keep folks out. -</p> - -<p> -“If this is going to be a case for chisels,” said Rudd, “we’d better -start on it at once, before those police come interfering.” -</p> - -<p> -We were already centres of attraction to a rapidly increasing crowd. -Our goings-on provided entertainment of a kind they didn’t care to -miss. Long before we had put that job through the police did come. -What is more, we were glad to see them. -</p> - -<p> -Rudd fetched a pair of crowbars from an ironmonger’s shop close by. -With his assistance, and acting under his instructions, we started to -shift that door. We never got beyond the starting. We might as well -have tried to shift the monument. He rigged up contrivances; tried -dodges. There was the door just as tight as ever. And just as we were -thinking of breaking the heads of some of the members of that -interested crowd, up the police did come. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Paine explained to them what we were after. Then he and the young -lady and Rudd went off with one of them to the station, while another -stayed behind. In course of time they returned, together with an -inspector, three more policemen, and two specimens of the British -working man, who were wheeling something on a barrow. The interest of -the crowd increased. The new arrivals were received with cheers. -</p> - -<p> -Those workmen, in conjunction with Isaac Rudd, fitted up a machine -upon the pavement. It was some kind of a drill I believe. Presently -not one but half a dozen holes had been cut right through that door. -Into these were inserted crowbars of a different construction to those -we had been using. We all lent a hand. And the door was open. -</p> - -<p> -The crowd pressed forward. -</p> - -<p> -“Keep back!” cried the inspector. -</p> - -<p> -And the police kept them back. -</p> - -<p> -The inspector entered, with the young lady, Mr. Paine, Rudd and I. The -rest were kept out, including the cursing gentleman and his two -friends, which seemed hard on them after all they must have gone -through. But it was little that they lost. At the beginning anyhow. -</p> - -<p> -For as soon as we set foot inside the passage we found that there was -another door defying us. It seemed to lead into a room upon our left. -Rudd called one of the workmen in to consult with him. They sounded -the door, they sounded the wall, and concluded that the shortest way -into the room was through the wall. So soon the house was being -knocked to pieces before our eyes. There was sheet iron on the other -side of that wall. But they were through it in what seemed no time. And -there was a great hole, large enough to admit of the passage of a man. -</p> - -<p> -And on the other side of this hole stood Susie. -</p> - -<p> -She stared at us, and we stared at her, neither understanding who the -other was. But when I did understand I felt as if my legs were giving -way. And something inside me set up a clamour which was deafening. And -when she saw it was me she called out: -</p> - -<p> -“Max!” -</p> - -<p> -She was through that wall like a flash of lightning. I had her in my -arms almost before I knew it. -</p> - -<p> -“Susie!” I said. “My sweet!” -</p> - -<p> -I could tell by the way of her that she knew more about wives than she -did when I saw her last. And that she had grown reconciled to the idea -of being one. And perhaps a bit more than reconciled. The fates be -thanked. -</p> - -<p> -Miss Blyth was in the room with her. Alive and sound, and, indeed, -unhurt. They had been frightened out of their wits when they heard us, -and at the noise we made, thinking they were going to be murdered, at -the least. -</p> - -<p> -“Where’s your father?” I asked. -</p> - -<p> -“When he brought her in,” she answered—meaning Miss Blyth—“he went -out, shutting the door behind him, taking the key. He left us -prisoners. We’ve been prisoners ever since. We’ve heard and seen -nothing of him. Where he is I don’t know. Unless he’s above.” -</p> - -<p> -He was above. In a room at the top of the house. With another door to -it. So that we had to get through the wall again. -</p> - -<p> -He had had a sort of throne rigged up. Intending, maybe, to have an -imitation of the one which he had occupied when I had first come upon -him in the temple. If that was so the imitation was a precious poor -one. But he was on it. Dead. And cold. He had been gone some hours. -</p> - -<p> -Whether he had committed suicide, or whether the end had come to him -in the ordinary course of nature, there was nothing to show. -</p> - -<p> -A colony of snakes was in the room. Those favourites of his. One -shared the throne with the Great Joss. It was on the seat, in front of -him, where his legs ought to have been. My idea was that the thing had -killed him. But it seemed that that was not the case. The creatures -were declared not to be venomous. And there was no mark of a -snake-bite about him anyhow. -</p> - -<p> -While we stood looking at the throne, and what was on it, there was a -movement behind. The cursing gentleman and his two friends came in. At -sight of the Great Joss they threw themselves on their faces, and bit -the floor. I never saw men so scared. Or so surprised. I had a sort of -notion that they had supposed him to be immortal, and that he couldn’t -die. When the body came to be examined, and it was discovered what a -torso it really was, and to what prolonged and hideous tortures the -man must have been subjected, one began to understand that they might -have had reasons of their own for thinking so. It might very well have -been incomprehensible to them why, if he could die, he hadn’t died. -</p> - -<p> -At the foot of the throne was the little doll-like thing which I had -seen perched on the head of the fifty thousand pound monstrosity. He -had called it the God of Fortune. Saying that where it was he was not -far away. -</p> - -<p> -The case seemed to present an illustration of the truth of his words. -The doll was broken to atoms. The Great Joss and the God of Fortune -seemed to have come to an end together. -</p> - - -<h2 id="b5"> -BOOK V.<br/> -<span class="book_sub">AUTHOR’S POSTSCRIPT.</span> -</h2> - - -<h3 id="ch34"> -CHAPTER XXXIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">HOW MATTERS STAND TO-DAY.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I should</span> have preferred that the close of Captain Max Lander’s -statement should have been the conclusion of this strange history. But -for the satisfaction of any reader who may desire to know what became -of A, B, C, or D, these following lines are added. -</p> - -<p> -What have been described by Captain Lander as “the treasures of the -temple” were found in the house in Camford Street. So far as could be -ascertained, intact. The question of ownership involved a nice legal -problem. The native attendants of the temple vanished almost as soon -as they appeared. No one knew where they went to. Nothing has been -seen or heard of them since. It seemed, therefore, that they put -forward no claims. There remained the girl, Susan, presumably the dead -man’s daughter, though there was no legal proof of the fact; Mary -Blyth, who had claims under her uncle’s will; Captain Lander, who held -the document entitling him to a half share; and the owners and crew of -<i>The Flying Scud</i>. All these had claims which required consideration. -In the end, by great good fortune, an amicable settlement was arrived -at, which gave satisfaction to all parties concerned. -</p> - -<p> -As might have been expected, the value set on the property by Mr. -Batters proved to be an exaggeration. It was worth nothing like a -million. Still, it fetched a considerable amount when realised, and -after the owners and crew of <i>The Flying Scud</i> had been -appeased—excepting Mr. Luke, who was markedly dissatisfied because he -only received an ordinary seaman’s share—an appreciable sum remained -as surplus. To this was added the cash which had been bequeathed to -Miss Blyth by the will whose validity was, at best, extremely -doubtful; the whole being divided, in equal portions, between the -niece and the daughter. As Miss Batters immediately afterwards became -Mrs. Max Lander, the commander of <i>The Flying Scud</i> had no cause to be -discontented with this arrangement. -</p> - -<p> -No. 84, Camford Street is still without an owner. It appears, from the -story told by the girl, Susan, that on reaching England, her father -hurried her from place to place, seldom stopping for more than two or -three days under one roof. They seem to have made their most lengthy -stay in a barge in one of the lower reaches of the river. No doubt the -notion of concealment was present to his mind from the first. Though -how he lighted on the house in Camford Street is still a mystery. Nor -has anything transpired to show by whose orders it was fortified in -such ingenious and elaborate fashion; nor by whom the work was -executed. Nothing has been found which goes to show that he had any -right to call the house his property. Its actual ownership still goes -begging. -</p> - -<p> -The document purporting to be a will was possibly drawn up by his own -hand. The letter signed “Arthur Lennard, Missionary,” pretending to -announce his death on that far-off Australasian island, was probably -concocted, at his instigation, by one of the miscellaneous -acquaintances whom he picked up during his wanderings among the -riverside vagabonds. From such an one he might have acquired Mr. -Paine’s name, together with some side-lights on that gentleman’s -character. Miss Batters made it abundantly clear that her father was -the “freak” to whom Mr. Paine was of service by rescuing him from the -too curious crowd in the Commercial Road. -</p> - -<p> -His exact object in making his will has never been shown. No doubt the -man’s brain was in disorder. He was actuated, perhaps, by three -considerations. The desire for concealment; the consciousness that he -and his daughter would fare very badly if shut up in a house alone -together; the wish to avail himself of his niece’s services. To have -gone to her with a straightforward tale would have been in accord -neither with his character or policy. He had lived too long in what, -for civility’s sake, may be called a diplomatic atmosphere, to be able -to breathe in any other. Also, he knew nothing of his niece. Suspected -that she knew nothing good of him. Was moved, possibly, by a very -natural unwillingness to make himself, or his story, known to her -until he had learned what kind of person she was. -</p> - -<p> -So he invented his own death, making her his heiress, for the sole -purpose of getting her inside the house. It is impossible to say what -might have happened had she proved amenable to his wishes; and events -moved along the road which he had laid down for them. The presumption -is that, sooner or later—probably sooner—he would have made himself -known to her, and endeavoured to purchase her fidelity, and services, -on terms of his own. -</p> - -<p> -As it is, the uncle is the constant theme of the niece’s conversation. -Miss Blyth is now Mrs. Cooper. The Coopers are residents of one of the -smaller south coast watering places, where they are regarded as -leading lights among local social circles. Mr. Cooper is a -vice-president of the boat-club, yacht-club, swimming-club, -cricket-club, football club, and so on; his wife is the mother of an -increasing family, and a lady with a tale. Its subject is Uncle -Benjamin. That gentleman lived a life of strange and varied adventure. -His history loses none of its marvels at his niece’s lips. Either -because they are a trifle tired of the theme, or are merely jealous, -some of the more frequent hearers have been heard to doubt if there -ever was an Uncle Benjamin. If these doubts are serious they do the -lady less than justice. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. and Mrs. Lander are also happy. One would be reluctant to doubt -it. Yet, at the same time, one cannot refuse to admit that there are -occasions when the outward and visible signs of their happiness take a -somewhat boisterous shape. He has a temper; she has a temper. There -are moments when it would appear as if there was hardly room for the -two tempers in a single house. Since they seldom remain in one place -for more than three months, they can scarcely be said to live -anywhere. In selecting their next abiding-place, they seem to act on -the principle of letting it be as far from the present as possible. -Mr. Lander has not pursued his profession since the last eventful -voyage which he has herein set forth. Possibly by way of killing time -he is apt to be a trifle too convivial. Nothing makes Mrs. Lander more -indignant than an even hinted doubt of her positive assertion, made in -and out of season, that every drop of blood in her veins is English. -As her complexion is a little dusky, her aggressive attitude upon this -point makes her rather a difficult person to get on with. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Frank Paine, oddly enough, has married Miss Purvis. And, what is -perhaps still more odd, theirs is the happiest match of the three. -About their complete and absolute content with their condition there -can be no possible doubt whatever. He worships her; she worships him. -If there is any finer recipe for matrimonial happiness than that, it -has not come in the present writer’s way. His practice as a solicitor -has grown large. Mrs. Paine is of opinion that he is rightly regarded -with even fulsome reverence by the entire bench and bar. Since he -would not dream of contesting any opinion which happened to be his -wife’s, the position of affairs could not possibly be improved. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Benjamin Batters lies in Kensal Green Cemetery. In a deep grave, -and in a full-sized coffin. Surrounded by dignitaries and -respectabilities. In his coffin were placed the broken pieces of the -curiosity which he called the God of Fortune. So they are still -together. A handsome monument has been raised above him. There is no -hint, in the inscription, that below are but the mangled fragments of -what was once a human body; or any reference to the fact that he ever -posed as a joss; or a god; or was ever believed, even by savages, to -have put on immortality before his time. It simply says: -</p> - -<p class="center"> -<br/> -“BENEATH THIS STONE<br/> -REPOSES<br/> -BENJAMIN BATTERS,<br/> -WHO,<br/> -AFTER A LIFE OF VARIED ADVENTURE<br/> -IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE WORLD,<br/> -SLEEPS WELL.”<br/><br/> -</p> - -<p> -We will hope that it is so. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -[THE END.] -</p> - - -<h2> -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. -</h2> - -<p class="noindent"> -Alterations to the text: -</p> - -<p> -Change several instances of <i>aint</i> to <i>ain’t</i>, and <i>dont</i> to <i>don’t</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Some punctuation corrections. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter II] -</p> - -<p> -Change “to be as old as <i>Methusaleh</i>” to <i>Methuselah</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter IV] -</p> - -<p> -“it's nothing, Buck up, old girl.” change first comma to a period. -</p> - -<p> -“broke into stammering <i>speeh</i>” to <i>speech</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter V] -</p> - -<p> -“Great <i>Ke</i> Island” to <i>Ka</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter VI] -</p> - -<p> -“<i>tennacy</i> of my house” to <i>tenancy</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter VII] -</p> - -<p> -“They seemed be in a hurry.” add <i>to</i> after <i>seemed</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XI] -</p> - -<p> -“to <i>nogotiate</i> the obstacle” to <i>negotiate</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XII] -</p> - -<p> -“of chairs, the <i>washhandstand</i>” to <i>washhand stand</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XIII] -</p> - -<p> -“wooden <i>windsor</i> chair” to <i>Windsor</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XV] -</p> - -<p> -“sound sleep, as it <i>semed</i>” to <i>seemed</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XVII] -</p> - -<p> -“They’re ’only ’aving a bit o’ fun” delete the apostrophe attached -to <i>only</i>. -</p> - -<p> -“was it, after after all, his serious” delete one <i>after</i>. -</p> - -<p> -“Since nearly a month <i>elasped</i>” to <i>elapsed</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XX] -</p> - -<p> -“treatment than <i>Messrs</i> Staple, <i>Wainright</i> and Friscoe” to <i>Messrs.</i> -and <i>Wainwright</i>, respectively. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Dantily</i> fashioned, curves” to <i>Daintily</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXI] -</p> - -<p> -“It was <i>past-half past</i> ten” to <i>past half-past</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXII] -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Epecially</i> when I should like” to <i>Especially</i>. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s <i>Captian</i> Lander” to <i>Captain</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXXIII] -</p> - -<p> -“There was sheet iron on the other side that wall” add <i>of</i> after -<i>side</i>. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -[End of Text] -</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JOSS: A REVERSION ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/64997-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/64997-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4ff5886..0000000 --- a/old/64997-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null |
