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diff --git a/old/mssln10h.htm b/old/mssln10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0583d03 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/mssln10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3939 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" ?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<title>The Master of Silence</title> +<meta name="author" content="Irving Bacheller" /> +<meta name="genre" content="Fiction" /> +<style type="text/css"> +div {page-break-before:always} +h1 {text-align:center} +h2 {text-align:center} +p {font-size:medium} +p.letter {font-size:small} +p.signature {font-size:small; text-align:right} +p.newspaper {font-size:small} +p.song {font-size:small} +p.end {text-align:center} +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Master of Silence, by Irving Bacheller +#2 in our series by Irving Bacheller + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Master of Silence + +Author: Irving Bacheller + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7486] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 9, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASTER OF SILENCE *** + + + + +This ebook was prepared by Jeffrey Kraus-yao. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p>Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series Edited by Arthur Stedman</p> + +<p>The Master of Silence</p> + +<h1>The Master of Silence</h1> + +<p>A Romance</p> + +<p>By Irving Bacheller</p> + +<p>New York Charles L. Webster & Co. 1892</p> + +<div> +<h2>THE MASTER OF SILENCE</h2> + +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p>Near the end of my fourteenth year I was apprenticed to +Valentine, King & Co., cotton importers, Liverpool, as a +“pair of legs.” My father had died suddenly, leaving me +and his property in the possession of my stepmother and my +guardian. It was in deference to their urgent advice that I left my +home in London (with little reluctance, since my life there had +never been happy) to study the art of money-making. On arriving at +the scene of my expected triumphs I was assigned to the somewhat +humble position of errand boy. In common with other boys who +performed a like service for the firm I was known as “a pair +of legs.” Lodgings of a rather modest character had been +secured for me in the western outskirts of the city near the banks +of the Mersey. I was slow to make friends, and my evenings were +spent in the perusal of some story books, which I had brought with +me from London. One night, not long after the beginning of my new +life in Liverpool, I was lying in bed listening to the wind and +rain beating over the housetops and driving against the windows, +when suddenly there came a loud rap at my door.</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?” I demanded, starting out of +bed.</p> + +<p>As I heard no answer, I repeated my inquiry and stood a moment +listening. I could hear nothing, however, but the wind and rain. +Lighting a candle and dressing myself with all haste, I opened the +door. I could just discern the figure of a bent old man standing in +the hallway, when a gust of wind suddenly put out the candle. The +door leading to the street was open, and the old man was probably a +straggler come to importune me for shelter or for something to eat. +As I relit the candle, he entered my room and stood facing me, but +he did not speak. His clothes were dripping and he was blinking at +me with strange, gleaming eyes. His hair was snow-white, and as I +looked into his face the deathly pallor of it frightened me. His +general appearance was more than startling; it was uncanny.</p> + +<p>“What can I do for you?” I asked.</p> + +<p>Greatly to my surprise he made no reply, but with a look of pain +and great anxiety sank into a chair. Then he withdrew from his +pocket a letter which he extended to me. The envelope was wet and +dirty. It was directed to Kendric Lane, Esq., No. Old Broad street, +London, England. The address was crossed and “22 Kirkland +street, Liverpool,” written under it in the familiar hand of +my guardian. A strange proceeding! thought I. Was the letter +intended for my father, who was long dead, and who had removed from +that address more than ten years ago? The old man began to grin and +nod as I examined the superscription. I broke the seal on the +envelope and found the following letter, undated, and with no +indication of the place from which it was sent:</p> + +<p class="letter">“Dear Brother—I need your help. Come to me at once +if you can. Consequences of vast importance to me and to mankind +depend upon your prompt compliance. I cannot tell you where I am. +The bearer will bring you to me. Follow him and ask no questions. +Moreover, be silent, like him, regarding the subject of this +letter. If you can come, procure passage in the first steamer for +New York. My messenger is provided with funds. Your loving brother, +</p> +<p class="signature">“Revis Lane.”</p> + +<p>I had often heard my father speak of my uncle Revis, who went to +America almost twenty years before I was born. Now he was my +nearest living relative. No news of him had reached us for many +years before my father died. I was familiar with his handwriting +and the specimen before me was either genuine, or remarkably like +it. If genuine he had evidently not heard of my father’s +death.</p> + +<p>Extraordinary as the message was, the messenger was more so. He +sat peering at me with a strange, half-crazed expression on his +face.</p> + +<p>“When did you leave my uncle?” I asked.</p> + +<p>He sat as if unconscious that I had spoken.</p> + +<p>I drew my chair to his side and repeated the words in a loud +voice, but he did not seem to hear me. Evidently the old man could +neither hear nor speak. In a moment he began groping in his +pockets, and presently handed me a card which contained the +following words:</p> + +<p>“If you can come, tear this card in halves and return the +right half to him.”</p> + +<p>I examined the card carefully. The words were undoubtedly in my +uncle’s handwriting. The back of the card was covered with +strange characters in red ink. I tore the card as directed and +handed him the right half.</p> + +<p>He held it up to the light and examined it carefully, then put +it away in a pocket of his waistcoat. The look of pain returned to +his face, and he coughed feebly as if suffering from a severe cold. +The hour being late I intimated by pantomime that I desired him to +occupy my bed. He understood me readily enough and began feebly to +remove his clothing, while I prepared a sofa for myself. He was +soon sound asleep, but I lay awake long after the light was +extinguished. He was evidently quite ill, and I determined to go +for a physician at the first appearance of daylight. As soon as +possible I would go with him to my uncle. There were no ties to +detain me, and it was clearly my duty to do so. Perhaps my uncle +was in some great peril. If so, I might be of service to him.</p> + +<p>When I arose in the morning my strange lodger seemed to be +sleeping quietly. His face looked pale and ghastly in the light of +day. I stepped close to his bed and, laying my hand upon his brow, +was horrified to discover that he was dead. What was I to do? I sat +down to think, trembling with fright. I must call in a policeman +and tell him all I knew about my strange visitor. No, not all; I +must not tell him about the letter, thought I. My uncle might not +wish it to be published to the world. I ran out upon the street and +told the first officer I met how the old man had rapped at my door +during the storm; how I had given him my bed out of pity, and how I +had discovered on awaking in the morning that he was dead.</p> + +<p>That day the body was taken to the morgue. The sum of £100 +were found in his pockets, a part of which gave him a decent +burial. But while he had gone to his long rest, he had sown in my +mind the seed of unrest. I went about my work clinging to the +thread of a mystery half told. Whither would it lead me?</p> + +<p>Strange as that messenger had seemed, he was certainly a good +man to carry secrets.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p>The multitude of legs, engaged by the pair in the service of +Valentine, King & Co., were distinguished from each other by a +bit of house slang. I was known as “last legs” among my +companions for some time after my initiation to the warehouse. At +first I was inclined to resent the reduction of my individuality to +such a vulgar formula, but as I became inured to hard tasks the +sharpness of this indignity wore away.</p> + +<p>There was one pair of legs doing service for the firm whose +owner became my most valued friend and confidant. In his business +capacity he was called “long legs,” but his proper name +was Philbert Chaffin. He was a tall, slim boy, with blue eyes and +light hair, the son of a stage carpenter, who was employed at one +of the cheap theatres and who lived within a stone’s throw of +my lodgings. His language was a unique combination of bad grammar +and provincial brogue; but every boy in the warehouse allowed that +he was a good fellow. He had spent many an evening with me, and +confided to me many a secret which, owing to solemn pledges made at +that time, I am not at liberty to divulge, before he invited me to +dine and spend an evening with the family. I accepted his +invitation gratefully, and the next evening Phil took me over. It +was a hearty welcome that I received at the home of the Chaffins. +My enjoyment of their simple hospitality would have been perfect +but for the embarrassment I felt at the many apologies with which +it was offered. Mrs. Chaffin knew as ’ow the tea was not as +good as I was used to drinking, but she ’oped it didn’t +taste “murky.” I assured her that it did not taste +murky, although a little doubtful as to the exact significance of +the word when applied to tea. But in spite of my declaration she +insisted that it must taste “murky” to one who was +accustomed to better things. The ham was never too good in +Liverpool, but she ’oped that it wasn’t +“reesty.” I solemnly declared that it was not +“reesty.” But Mrs. Chaffin and Mr. Chaffin out of the +goodness of their hearts continued to condole with me on the score +that such ham tasted and must taste “reesty” to one not +used to it. I had no sooner satisfied their misgivings concerning +the ham than I was compelled to take issue with them as to the +bread, regarding which they entertained a lurking suspicion of +staleness. During all of this discussion about the ham, the tea and +the bread, I was conscious that a pair of big brown eyes, darkly +shaded with long lashes, were staring at me across the table. +Whenever I had the courage to glance that way I observed that they +had been looking at me intently, and were suddenly averted. These +wondering eyes belonged to the only daughter in the family.</p> + +<p>“They’ve all been boys,” said Mrs. Chaffin, +“since Hetty was born.”</p> + +<p>I thought it strange that the H in her daughter’s name was +the only one that the good woman had shown the ability to +manage.</p> + +<p>“Hetty is the only one of the lot that takes to +books,” she continued. “The head master told me she +will make a good scholar, and dear a me! she does nothing but read +books from mornin’ till night.” While Hetty and her +mother removed the dishes we drew our chairs about the fire, and +Mr. Chaffin, a blunt, simple-minded man, entertained me with sage +observations regarding politics and the weather. He spoke rather +loudly, and in a key which, as I learned afterward, he only +employed on very special occasions. Presently the youngest lad in +the family, who sat on his father’s knee, demanded a song. +The response was prompt and generous. The selection with which Mr. +Chaffin favored us contained upward of forty stanzas, relating the +unhappy story of a fair maid and a bold sailor, both of whom met a +tragic death, in the last stanza, just before the day set for their +marriage. The song being finished, Hetty and her mother drew their +chairs up to the fire; Hetty sat next me, and after a severe inward +struggle I summoned the courage to ask her a question. She answered +me in the fewest words possible, but in a voice so sweet and low +that I wondered then and often afterward at its contrast to the +other voices I had heard in that house. She wore a home-spun frock +and a neat white pinafore, set off with a dainty ribbon tied about +her throat.</p> + +<p>“She’s uncommon still when strangers is here, +sir,” said Mrs. Chaffin; “but law me! she goes +rompitin’ about the house like as if she was crazy sometimes, +ticklin’ her father and tryin’ t’ snip off his +beard with the scissors.”</p> + +<p>That night was the beginning of happier days for me. When at +last I rose to go it was near midnight. I forgot my weariness as I +walked to my lodgings, thinking of those simple, honest people and +of their kindness to me.</p> + +<p>I enjoyed high jinks at the house of the Chaffins at least once +a week during the next year of my apprenticeship, near the close of +which I began to get ready for a visit to my stepmother in +fulfilment of a promise I had made by letter. It had been, on the +whole, a happy year to me. I had known many lonely hours, to be +sure, but those visits to the little old weather-stained house, in +which I found my first friends after leaving home, cheered me from +week to week. I knew, too, that Hetty enjoyed those long evenings +as much as I did, which meant more to me than I would have dared +confess to her. I thought of her a good deal, but it always +resulted in the wretched feeling that we were both very young after +all. It is not likely that I would have decided to go home for a +fortnight, but that I thought it would be pleasant to observe the +effect of saying good-by to Hetty. I had no doubt that she would be +quite overcome with grief and loneliness after I had gone, and, +reckless youth that I was, nothing could have made me more happy +than to have known that she really felt grieved on my account. And +yet when I called to bid them all good-by, the evening before I +started, she betrayed no sign of regret. In fact, she seemed so +much happier than usual that I worried about it for weeks, even +after I had gone so far away that it seemed doubtful whether we +would ever meet again. It did not occur to me that I had been less +skilful than she in concealing my emotions, and that she might be +merry only because she could perceive that I was sad. Mrs. Chaffin +was the only member of the family who seemed to entertain feelings +as serious as my own. She had dreamed that I would not come back +again, and we all laughed at her then, but when the swift years had +revealed some of their secrets, we thought of this prophetic dream +with a sadness deeper than any that comes to childish hearts. +Hester and Phil walked with me to the gate when I left the house. +The radiance of a full moon fell on our faces through the flying +clouds. Phil, stupid fellow! had so much to say that I did not get +a chance to speak to his sister before she darted back to the house +as if pursued. On reaching my lodgings I was surprised to find a +gentleman waiting for me.</p> + +<p>“Don’t know me, eh?” said he, shaking my hand +warmly.</p> + +<p>He was a tall, portly man, with a kindly face, clean shaven +except for a pair of close-cropped, iron-gray side whiskers. I was +sure I had seen him before, but couldn’t think of his +name.</p> + +<p>“Earl,” said he, handing me a card on which his name +and address were printed as follows:</p> + +<p class="card">DAVID GORDON EARL,<br /> +Barrister at Law,<br /> +Lincoln’s Inn,London.</p> + +<p>I remembered distinctly having accompanied my father to his +office on one occasion some years before.</p> + +<p>“I’ve come up from London on purpose to see you. +Just got here only a few minutes ago,” said he, laying off +his overcoat. “But upon my word!” he added, surveying +me from head to foot, “I didn’t expect to find such a +big, strapping fellow as you are. Your surroundings are quite as I +had supposed they would be. Cramped quarters in a miserable +tumble-down back street! I suppose your guardian provided this +place for you?”</p> + +<p>“I believe so,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Did you know that your stepmother had married +again?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Married!” I exclaimed. “To whom?”</p> + +<p>“To Martin Cobb.”</p> + +<p>“To my guardian?” I asked, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>Not heeding my question, he continued:</p> + +<p>“You’re intending to go home to-morrow, I +believe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“My boy,” said he, “I have an interest in you. +I was your father’s friend and adviser for many years. I came +all this distance to tell you not to go to London. Do not ask me +why, I beg you,” said he, with an impatient gesture when I +attempted to speak. “It would do you no good to learn my +reason for making this request. Listen to this—it’s +important to you: There’s an uncle of yours in America, your +nearest relative, I believe. Of course you have heard your father +speak of him. A most eccentric fellow! but a man of fine ability. +He was a graduate of Oxford and a physician of great skill and +learning. Thirty-five years ago he went to Canada and finally +settled in a large town on one of the great lakes not far from the +border. It was Detroit, I believe. Your father told me, shortly +before his death, that he had not heard from your uncle for many +years. I have written to him twice within a twelvemonth, but have +received no reply. I want you to go over and look him up. If you +should find that he is dead, there’s no harm done, and you +can take time to look about for a business opportunity. If you +don’t like it, come back, but, if you can content yourself +there for awhile, you had better do so.”</p> + +<p>“But, sir, I have no money.”</p> + +<p>“You are going for me; I shall, therefore, insist upon +paying the bills. In the success of the undertaking I have, +perhaps, as great an interest as you.”</p> + +<p>“When do you wish me to start?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“To-night. That is to say, I would like you to leave this +place at once, go with me to a hotel, and sail by the first steamer +that leaves for New York.”</p> + +<p>Ever since that strange and silent messenger had come to me with +my uncle’s letter I had been haunted by a desire to go in +quest of him. Now that it was possible, I hesitated. What would +Hester say on hearing that I had gone to America? It would be very +grand to write her from New York that I had been suddenly called +abroad on important business. Would she care? Of course she would +care, and I was willing to wager a sixpence with myself that she +would cry bitterly, too, on receiving the letter. Ah, what a +punishment that would be for her coldness and indifference!</p> + +<p>Yes, I would go. I began picking up my things and packing them +into my box.</p> + +<p>“I conclude that you have decided to go,” he +said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. I shall be ready in a moment,” I +replied.</p> + +<p>We were soon rattling over the pavements in a cab that had been +waiting at the door.</p> + +<p>On arriving at the Northwestern Hotel we were informed that a +steamer would leave for New York at five in the morning. We drove +at once to the dock and having succeeded in making comfortable +arrangements for my passage Mr. Earl went aboard the steamer with +me. In a retired corner of the great cabin I confessed to him that +there was a girl in Liverpool for whom I had a feeling of +extraordinary tenderness.</p> + +<p>He laughed heartily and insisted that I should tell him all the +particulars.</p> + +<p>“You are rather young yet to entertain so serious a +passion,” said he, as he held my hand for a moment before +going ashore. “You will get over it as easily as you got into +it.”</p> + +<p>I sat down, unable to reply or to restrain the tears that came +to my eyes as he left me alone. I went to my stateroom at once and +to bed. What thoughts came to me as I lay there inviting sleep to +turn them into dreams, while the great ship waited for the tide! I +tossed about my berth; I prayed; I listened. At length I thought I +heard my father’s voice mingled with others, and a sound of +casting off —but I heard no more.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p>One morning in early October, nearly two years after I left +Liverpool that memorable night, I found myself in the little city +of Ogdensburg, N. Y., past which the majestic St. Lawrence flows +with a sleepy movement quite in harmony with the spirit of the old +town on its southern shore. All this time I had been vainly beating +about the Western Hemisphere in quest of my uncle. He had left +Detroit many years before, but I chanced to meet a number of men +there who had known him well. Although he had enjoyed a very large +practice and a wide reputation for skill, he had made no friends +that I could find. He was a man of few words, they told me, and was +never seen about the city except in the discharge of his +professional duties. Various and conflicting opinions were +expressed as to whither he had gone, in testing which I had visited +no less than twenty cities, making careful inquiries, especially +among medical men. Occasionally I struck what seemed to be a +promising clew, which only increased my confusion and left me more +hopelessly in the dark. I had reported my movements to Mr. Earl as +often as once a week and I received letters from him frequently, +encouraging me to continue the search and enclosing money with +which to do so. But although I had written often to Hester Chaffin +no word from her ever reached me. I was tired of this fruitless +quest among strangers, so far from the little that I held dear, and +I was on the point of giving up when this paragraph fell under my +eye in a Montreal newspaper:</p> + +<p class="newspaper" style="text-align:center">A MYSTERIOUS CHARACTER.</p> + +<p class="newspaper">“One who has ever passed the city of Ogdensburg by steamer +will no doubt recall a large gambrel-roofed house standing near the +water’s edge, just out of the town, surrounded by towering +trees and enclosed on all sides by a wall nearly as high as the +eaves of the building. The wall suggests an asylum, a house of +detention or some like place set apart for the unfortunate members +of society. In reality, however, it is the residence of a +mysterious recluse of the name of Lane, who shut himself up there +nearly eighteen years ago and has since been rarely seen. It was +built after his own plans, they say, when he came to Ogdensburg +with his wife, who died soon afterward. Nobody knows whence he came +or anything of his past history. He is apparently a total stranger +here below, holding no intercourse with the world beyond that +enclosure. His wife is said to have been a woman of great beauty, +and her death doubtless threw him into a morbid state of mind, from +which he has never rallied. Many years ago he is known to have +bought a full-grown African lion from a traveling menagerie, and, +soon after, he erected the wall, presumably out of regard for the +public safety. Passers along the street have caught an occasional +glimpse of him through the high gate, walking in the grounds +surrounding his house, with the lion at his heels apparently in +complete subjection to its master. A dense thicket runs along the +wall on all sides within the enclosure, which, according to local +tradition, is alive with rattlesnakes, bred for some strange +purpose known only to himself—perhaps to make his isolation +more secure.</p> + +<p class="newspaper">“He is supposed to have resigned the companionship of men +for study and scientific research. He has no children, and his only +servant being a deaf-mute, who is almost an idiot, there is little +chance at present of learning anything of his life. For more than +two years nothing has been seen of the mysterious master of the +house. His disappearance would, we think, be a legitimate subject +of investigation by the authorities of the town. May he not have +been eaten by the lion, or killed by the rattlesnakes? Who +knows?”</p> + +<p>My heart was beating fast and my hands shook as if stricken with +palsy before I had finished the paragraph. The strange old man who +had come to me in Liverpool that night was probably the mute +servant to which the article referred. In an hour I was on the way +to Ogdensburg, quite confident that the issue of my wanderings was +at hand. I reached that town next morning nearly two years, as I +have said, after the beginning of my journey to the New World. Not +stopping to breakfast even, I started out to find the house, which +my busy imagination had already pictured for itself. The first +townsman I saw directed me to the place.</p> + +<p>“Follow the turnpike,” said he. “’Sa +mild or more—straight ahead. You’ll know it when +y’ git there. ‘S’ queer place an’ +stan’s off by itself.”</p> + +<p>The man was going my way, evidently to begin his day’s +work, for it was then early in the morning, and I walked along with +him.</p> + +<p>“Folks say,” he continued, “them grounds +is full of hejious reptyles, an’ I’ve heerd fellers +tell queer things they’ve seen when passin’ there at +night—red lights a-flyin’ about an’ spooks at the +winders. An’ one night, when Uncle Bill Jemson was +comin’ down the turnpike, they was a storm come up, an’ +jest as he got opposite the big iron gate they was a flash a +lightnin’—an’ Bill says he see the ole man, his +long white hair a-flyin’ in th’ wind, an’ a lion +standin’ there in front a th’ house. Th’ flash +was out’n a minit, an’ Bill whipped up his hosses +an’ sent em clear to Mills’ tavern on the dead +run,” said he, laughing as if it were a good joke.</p> + +<p>“They don’t nobody like th’ place ner +th’ man, though I don’ know why, fer no one’s +ever passed a word with him in these parts. There ’tis, over +yender with the pines around it an’ th’ high +wall,” said he, pointing with his finger. But my eye had +already discovered the low-built rambling house on the high banks +of the river, well in the distance, and had recognized it at +once.</p> + +<p>Leaving my companion at the next turn in the road I walked +hurriedly on, and when I had reached the big iron gate I stopped +and peered through it. A gravel roadway, now overgrown with weeds, +led from the gate to the front of the house, which stood facing me. +It was built entirely of wood and consisted of four wings (at least +there were no others visible) evidently enclosing a quadrangular +courtyard, the rear wings being lower than those in front, and +hidden by the latter from the view of one standing at the gate as I +was. It was only at a distance that one could see their roofs above +the enclosure. There was but one line of windows along the front, +but there was an oriel just under the peak of the main building, +and I could see a skylight here and there upon the roofs.</p> + +<p>The blinds were closed and there was no sign of life about the +house—evidently planned with hospitable intentions, but now +silent and forbidding. I tried the gates. They were locked +securely. A screen of closely woven wire rose from the pavement +half way up the iron work. Evidently it would be impossible to +reach the doors without scaling this barrier, and I was not yet +ready to try an expedient so desperate. Returning to my hotel I +wrote a letter to the master of the house, telling him of my +long-continued quest and of my hopes regarding our possible +kinship. Day after day I anxiously awaited his reply, until a week +had passed, but no word came from him. In passing the house at +different times, however, I observed some signs of life within +it—a blind open that had been closed the day before—a +faint glimmer of light on the trees in the rear of the grounds at +night, which might have come from the back windows. Even this +slight encouragement was gratifying, but as time passed without +bringing any reply to my letter I began to think that, after all, +my hopes rested on very shadowy foundations. One day I asked the +local postmaster if a man of the name of Lane, who lived near that +city, ever sent for his mail.</p> + +<p>“Never,” said he. “The man is crazy, I guess, +and it’s wasting postage to write him. He’s a hermit, +sir—a regular hermit, and is about the same as dead, for +nobody ever sees him. The tradesmen tell me that his old servant +comes out of an evening, once in a while, to buy provisions, but +he’s deaf as a post and dumb as an oyster.” The +interview had at least shown me the futility of trying to reach him +by letter.</p> + +<p>It was clear that only one course was open to me. I must brave +the unknown perils with which this strange man had encompassed the +path of the trespasser, and gain an entrance to the house. I sought +the seclusion of my room at once, and thought over the result of my +investigations. I had not written to my good friend in London since +my arrival in Ogdensburg, and I concluded not to do so until I +could give him definite information.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon a slow, drizzling rain began to pour down, +and when night fell every luminary in the heavens was obscured by +thick clouds. It was a favorable time for carrying out my project, +as the darkness was intensified by a fog that had settled over the +city. By the light of my lamp I prepared for the undertaking, in +such a state of excitement that I was frequently startled by my own +whispers, through which I found myself now and then giving +involuntary utterance to my thoughts. Cutting up a pair of boots +which I carried in my box, I wound my legs in leather from my +ankles up above my knees, carefully drawing on a pair of thick, +long stockings to hold it in place. This precaution would give me a +comfortable sense of security, even if there were no snakes to +fear. I felt sure that the lion, if he were still living, would be +kept in some place of confinement.</p> + +<p>It was long past bedtime, and the lights were out in every shop +and dwelling, when I started on my daring mission. The little lamps +that glared through the fog at the street corners could scarcely be +seen twenty feet away. I was so preoccupied that I frequently lost +my direction in the mud and darkness. It seemed as if I had been +traveling for hours, when at last I felt the big wall, and saw its +dim bulk rising above me and stretching away into the night. +Cautiouly I groped along its base until my hands felt the iron bars +of the gate. Then I stood for some moments leaning against them, +quite out of breath. They were cold and wet, and chilled me to a +shiver when I touched them. I peered toward the house but could see +nothing. I listened, but could hear nothing except the beating of +my own heart and the mournful sound of the pines whose loftier +branches were stirring in the still air. Grasping the heavy bars I +tried to climb the gate, but, as there were no projections on which +it was possible to get a foothold, I found this an exhausting and +difficult task. I climbed repeatedly several feet above the earth, +only to lose my foothold and slide down again. Finally, by exerting +all my strength, I succeeded in supporting myself with the edge of +my boot upon a crossbar about half way up; then, taking a small +rope from my pocket I threw one end of it over the gate, holding +the other in my teeth. Tying it securely by a noose I climbed hand +over hand to the top and then let myself down on the other side. I +was quite exhausted by the effort (unaccustomed as I was to such +burglarious enterprises) and my fingers were torn and bleeding from +forcing a hold between the iron work and the wire screen. I +remembered the gravel pathway, overgrown with grass, that led from +the big gate to a front door. I groped about in the darkness until +I felt the gravel under my feet. Then I moved cautiously along it, +until I could dimly discern the outlines of the house. My nerves +were so wrought up, while I stood there holding my breath to catch +some sound from its gloomy interior, that I was near crying out in +abject terror at every step. An owl, startled from the limb of a +tree over my head, flew lazily into the upper air and across the +thicket, disturbing other birds that set up a chattering protest. +Stealthily I crept from window to window, but the blinds were +closed fast. Finally I came to a door that seemed to open into the +main part of the building. Desperate under the strain to which my +nerves had been subjected, I knocked loudly on its upper panels. +The sound echoed through the still house and the thickly wooded +grounds around it. “God help me!” I whispered; +“will that echo never cease?” It kept repeating itself +from tree to tree, until I covered my ears to stop its weird +reverberations. Then I heard a low threatening sound, deep and +resonant as the lower tones of a great organ, that gradually grew +louder until its volume filled the air, and then died away, while +its echoes went chasing each other among the trees. In the silence +which followed, my ear caught another sound the like of which I had +never heard before. A dozen clocks being wound by quick turns on +all sides of me would, I fancy, have produced a similar effect. It +was evident to me that my knocking had disturbed my uncle’s +pets, but I was not to be frightened away. Hearing no movement in +the house I tried the door, and to my astonishment it swung open. A +peculiar odor, such as one notices in a house that has long stood +empty, came to my nostrils, and again I heard that fateful +whirring, but in the darkness I could discern no object. As I +crossed the threshold the sound grew louder, and to my horror the +door closed suddenly behind me. Hurriedly striking a match, I held +it above my head and peered about me. Its light revealed a small +apartment finished in polished wood. Along the angle of the floor +was an opening, two or three inches high, into the side walls. And +half way up the wall in front of me I saw a face—the face of +a maniac it seemed to be—pale and wan, with strange, inhuman +eyes. I had scarcely glanced at it when the match dropped from my +fingers and fell slowly through the air, going out as it struck the +floor. My hands were cold, but so wet with perspiration that they +stuck to my clothing when I felt for a candle which I had brought +with me.</p> + +<p>There are moments in every man’s life that move slowly, as +if carrying the weight of years upon their backs. I shall never +cease to believe that the few seconds it took me to light that +candle must stand for as many years in any correct reckoning of my +age. When its beams at last illumined the room, the strange face +was still there. Had I seen it before? It was marvellously like +that other face which had haunted my dreams so long. If it was the +face of a man he must be standing on the other side of the wall and +looking through a panel.</p> + +<p>“Is Mr. Lane at home?” I asked in an unnatural tone +that startled me.</p> + +<p>But no word of reply was spoken.</p> + +<p>“I am his nephew and I have important news for +him.”</p> + +<p>The face disappeared for a moment, and presently a shrunken +hand, holding a white sheet of paper, was extended through the +opening. I stepped forward, took the sheet and, withdrawing to the +centre of the room, sat down upon the floor and wrote the following +message in bold characters with my pencil:</p> + +<p>“Kendric Lane, son of Kendric Lane (deceased), late of +London, England, wishes to see Dr. Lane on business of +importance.”</p> + +<p>I handed the message to the strange man behind the wall, who +immediately disappeared with it, closing the panel. “The +worst is over,” thought I, while I stood in that mysterious +and silent chamber waiting for his return. But I should not have +thought so had I known what was still to be revealed to me before +the dawn of another day, and in the months that followed, during +which that house and its echoing groves were my home. And I +sometimes ask myself, in the light of later events of which that +visit was indirectly the cause, whether, had I been able to foresee +them, I would still have persevered in my purpose to know the +secrets of my uncle’s house?</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p>A long time I stood waiting for some reply to my message. My +candle was fast burning out, and I began to fear that after all I +was likely to leave the house no wiser than when I had entered it. +Suddenly a door swung on its creaking hinges and a feeble old man, +holding a lamp in one hand, stood grinning at me in the opening. It +was the same face that I saw before, but it seemed less ghostly and +unnatural now. Stepping back he beckoned me to enter. As soon as I +had crossed the threshold the door closed behind me and the old man +carefully bolted it. I stood in a large room, richly furnished, of +which spiders had apparently long held possession. Great cobwebs +hung like hammocks from the ceiling, and the dust of years had +settled over all. Two human skeletons completely wrapped in +cobwebs, stood facing me against the opposite wall. Following my +silent leader, I went through a long narrow passage, at the end of +which was a heavy door fastened with large iron bolts. Before +opening it the strange old man placed the lamp upon a table and +turning around looked squarely into my face. Merciful Heaven! It +was the face of another man who was looking at me now! The deep +lines had almost disappeared and the eyes looked brighter and more +intelligent. No, it was the same face, for while my eyes were +eagerly scanning it that hideous grin began to deepen its wrinkles, +and its owner, taking half a dozen steps down the passageway, made +an awkward motion with both hands as if trying to indicate that I +was to follow him very closely. Then he opened the big door and I +was surprised to observe that it led into the outer air. What gulf +of darkness are we about to plunge into? I asked myself, peering +through the doorway; and as we stepped out I heard again that +ominous whirring. Close upon his heels I followed in a narrow path, +through what seemed to be a large courtyard, overgrown with thick +grass. Presently he stopped, and, taking a bunch of keys from his +pocket, unlocked a door in a back wing of the house. Reaching out +until his hand touched me, as if to make sure that I was there, he +swung the door open and we stepped into a dimly lighted apartment. +My mysterious guide turned up the wick of a lamp that was burning +on a table in the centre of the room. It was a library, with great +shelves of books reaching from floor to ceiling along its walls. A +large galvanic battery, globes, charts and other contrivances that +belong to the equipment of a scholar surrounded the table. This +table was used for writing evidently, for there were pens lying on +it and a human skull used as an inkstand, the fluid being held in +the cavities of the eyes. I had seated myself in a chair and was +waiting for some sign from the little old man who had brought me +there. But where was he? Turning around I looked about me on all +sides. He had left the room during my momentary preoccupation. I +had scarcely seated myself again when a door opened and a venerable +man, with snow-white hair and a smooth-shaven face that was pale +and wrinkled, walked slowly toward me. I rose to my feet and +advanced a step or two. He came forward without speaking and looked +steadily into my eyes. Slowly and sadly he turned his gaze upon the +floor, apparently in deep thought. A sigh broke from his lips as if +some memory, stirring in the caves of thought, had driven it +forth.</p> + +<p>The man who stood before me had deep-set gray eyes, almost +concealed by long shaggy brows not yet entirely white. His lips +were thin, and drawn closely together above a square, protruding +chin. The nose was aquiline and prominent, with large, but finely +cut nostrils. Altogether his was the most picturesque face I had +ever seen. Suddenly he made an effort to clear his throat.</p> + +<p>“Kendric’s child,” said he, in a strange, low +voice. He spoke slowly and with great difficulty, as if his organs +of speech were partially paralyzed. I would not have been able to +distinguish his words but for the silence of that room and the +unnatural keenness of my hearing. He still stood motionless, his +eyes upon the floor. I knew that he was thinking of my father.</p> + +<p>“Dead?” he asked, looking at me inquisitively.</p> + +<p>“He is dead,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“And my man—did he give you the letter?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he is dead also.”</p> + +<p>“Dead? I thought he was dead,” he repeated, slowly +and thoughtfully. “I, too, am dead— long +dead.”</p> + +<p>The words were separated by considerable pauses, and he faced me +almost sternly as he finished speaking them. I stood staring at +him, dumb with surprise.</p> + +<p>“Why—how did you come here?”</p> + +<p>He sank into a chair, exhausted with the effort it had cost him +to speak. My presence seemed to irritate and annoy him. Why, +indeed, had I come there? What should I say in reply to his +question? I tried to think.</p> + +<p>“Knaves! Knaves!” said my uncle, in a shrill voice, +rushing toward me. In a moment he had thrown his arms about my neck +and was sobbing aloud. My heart was full and I wept with him.</p> + +<p>“Fortunate child of God,” said he, after a moment; +“you have the seed of life—immortal life. But I beg you +to go. To one like you this house will seem an uncanny place; I can +only think of it as beyond the grave.”</p> + +<p>“Let me stay, uncle,” said I. “Don’t +send me away. Perhaps I can help you or comfort you.”</p> + +<p>“Poor soul! you shall stay if you will. I am in great +trouble and need help, but you are a boy—I cannot ask you to +give your life to me.”</p> + +<p>He sat down before the table, breathing heavily, and beckoned me +to a chair beside him. I was quite dumfounded and knew not what to +say. Presently he began writing upon large sheets of paper, handing +each one to me as soon as it was covered. The manuscript read as +follows:</p> + +<p>“I am not able to talk much. To me words are a lie and an +abomination. Even these I now write are misrepresenting me and +deceiving you, though I wish them to tell the truth. They will make +me out an ass or a madman. I am neither. For eighteen years I have +scarcely spoken as many words. A word or two of Sanscrit now and +then has met my needs, thank God! There is an interior language for +which speech is an imperfect medium. Through that interior language +thought is communicated directly and truthfully. I used it long +before I came here—imperfectly, to be sure, but with a small +degree of satisfaction to myself. Through it I was able to heal the +sick when others failed. I knew how they felt better than they +could tell me in feeble words. In some more perfect state of +evolution, beyond the grave, perhaps, all men will have this power +and it will be perfect. I can enjoy but an imperfect use of it +until the mortal part of me has been cast off. One trained to +speech in childhood loses certain faculties that can never be +regained.</p> + +<p>“My wife died many years ago. She left me a broken heart +and a child, newly born. I had just built this house, among +strangers. We intended to devote the remainder of our lives to the +study of mental phenomena. We desired to carry on our work without +interruption. We planned to live unknown among those around us. +When she died I saw in the child an opportunity. I determined to +make its life a grand experiment; to preserve and cultivate its +native intuitions—the germ of the power of direct +communication. God has vouchsafed success to me. He lives—a +man of exalted powers the like of which the world has never seen +but once, and then in Christ, the very Son of God. But, unlike Him, +my son is only human, with weaknesses that are our common lot.</p> + +<p>“The years are flying, and strength is failing! I must die +soon and he will live. That thought burns my brain, passing through +it day by day. His life may be long extended and he cannot live +alone, nor among men, for he would be a stranger and +friendless—feared and dreaded by superstitious fools. He has +never seen a human face outside these walls nor heard a human voice +but mine. I have told you my trouble.”</p> + +<p>He ceased writing, but before I had finished reading the +statement some strange influence came over me. I felt restless and +uncomfortable. My hand was shaking so that I could scarcely read +the words on the last sheet of paper. Suddenly I raised my eyes and +saw a young man, godlike in form and feature, standing at my side. +His face wore an expression of indescribable eloquence. As familiar +as he afterward became to me, I can never forget the first +impression which that magnificent human being made upon my mind, as +he stood there— radiating a power that I felt to the tips of +my fingers. What favored son of man was this confronting me, born +to such an inheritance of majesty and grace? I asked myself, +regarding him with amazement. He had eyes dark as night, set under +a broad forehead, about which wavy masses of tawny hair fell +gracefully. His stately form was erect and firm as a statue. For a +moment his eyes looked into mine; then he advanced and took my +hand. Tenderly he pressed it to his lips, stepping back as he did +so and looking at me with a half-curious, half-amused expression. I +was so startled by the unexpected appearance of this remarkable +figure that I had not, until now, noticed that a large lion had +followed him into the room and was lying quietly at his feet. I was +not afraid; indeed, the king of beasts seemed but a part of the +man’s masterful presence. I do not think I would have seen +the animal but that his enormous body was lying directly before my +eyes on the floor. My uncle had been sitting with his head resting +upon his hand at the table. Suddenly he rose and a strange, +guttural sound—it may have been a word from some language +wholly unfamiliar to me—passed his lips. The young man +immediately left us, the lion following closely at his heels. We +both sat in silence for some moments after he had gone. My mind had +felt strange exhilaration in his presence, and I rubbed my eyes to +make sure that I was not dreaming. When I looked at my uncle the +sad expression on his face had given way to a smile of infinite +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“He is pleased—thank God!” said my uncle, in a +hoarse whisper, sinking into a chair.</p> + +<p>I made no answer.</p> + +<p>“It was my son,” he continued, with animation. +“Rayel—that was the name she gave him. Rayel, the +wonderful. He will love you as he loves me. Come,” said he, +rising, “the night is nearly gone.”</p> + +<p>Taking a lamp from the table, he beckoned me to follow him. +Silently we proceeded through a narrow hallway and up one flight of +stairs to a spacious bedroom which had seemingly been prepared for +my use. A candle was burning dimly on a large dressing-case, and by +its flickering light, as soon as my uncle had gone, I looked about +me and tried to think with calmness on the experience I had passed +through. Bolting the door securely, I threw open one of the window +blinds. To my surprise the first light of dawn was visible in the +sky. My room was in the rear of the house. Between me and the high +wall was a dense tangle of underbrush, barely visible in the dim +light. Hastily undressing, I went to bed without further delay, and +was soon in deep sleep. When I awoke it was near midday. Dressing +as quickly as possible, I proceeded at once to the library, where +my uncle sat waiting for me. He conducted me to the breakfast +room—a well-lighted and cheerful apartment—where he +served me with his own hands.</p> + +<p>“You shall stay, sir—you shall stay,” said he, +laying his hand on my shoulder as he sat down beside me, with a +smiling face. “Rayel loves you. He hopes you will stay. He +thinks God sent you to us.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad, for I wish to stay,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Good!” he exclaimed, in a long whisper. “You +have brought the world to him. Already he has seen it in your eyes. +But it is good!”</p> + +<p>While I ate he asked me questions touching the changes in our +family since he left England.</p> + +<p>I told him of my life at home after my father’s death; of +my hard lot in Liverpool, and of the midnight interviews with his +messenger and with Mr. Earl. He listened to me with grave and +attentive interest, but stopped me before I had finished, with an +impatient gesture.</p> + +<p>“Speak out! they meant—they meant to kill you, +didn’t they?”</p> + +<p>I stared at him in amazement, while ideas that were new to me +flocked into the empyrean of thought like black birds of prey. Oh, +no; I had never suspected that! I would never before have permitted +such a hideous suspicion to enter my mind. Was it possible that Mr. +Earl had sent me away from England in order to save my life? My +hands began to tremble, and I felt my face turning red and pale +under the searching eyes of my uncle.</p> + +<p>“My boy,” said he, “if all the murders were +done that men conceive, the devil would live alone on earth. We +shall know some time—I tell you we shall know! Let us go to +Rayel,” he said, rising and leading the way.</p> + +<p>The interview had greatly excited him, and his speech seemed +even more halting and labored than before. Many of his words were +mispronounced and separated by long pauses; but his manner was +marvelously expressive, and often a peculiar turn of the eye or +movement of the hand made his meaning clear when I was in doubt +about his words.</p> + +<p>I followed him through a long gymnasium and out upon a grassy +courtyard extending along the rear of the grounds parallel with the +river wall for a hundred yards or more, and adorned with beds of +flowers. It was completely shut off from the eye of the outside +world by a thick grove and an impenetrable growth of underbrush +that reached beyond the lowest branches of the trees. Nothing but +the blue sky, in which the sun was on its downward course, the +house, and the walls of living green, were visible. Out of this +Eden-like spot we passed into another wing of the building with +large windows looking out upon it. Rayel met us at the door, +dressed in a black robe of silk that hung gracefully from his +shoulders. Again he took my hand and kissed it, then looked into my +eyes with the same expression of curious interest upon his face +that I had noted before. Still holding my hand, he led me across +the room. For the first time I noticed that its walls were covered +with pictures, unframed, and that an easel stood in the light of +each window. We stopped before one of them. On a large canvas that +was stretched across it I saw a likeness of myself. The eyes wore a +haggard look which seemed unnatural. But there was something +strangely real about it, in spite of that.</p> + +<p>“Wonderful!” said I.</p> + +<p>Rayel started at the sound of my voice, and glanced from one to +the other with a puzzled, inquiring look. Turning to his father, he +uttered some strange monosyllable in a deep voice. Then he took my +hand and walked back and forth across the room with me, smiling in +great delight. I was fascinated by one of the pictures which showed +a great gleaming eye with a suggestion of lightning in its fiery +depths, as if taken at the keenest flash of fury. To intensify its +fierceness a human hand was raised in front of it so as to throw a +dark shadow across the canvas.</p> + +<p>“It is the lion’s eye,” said my uncle, who was +standing near me.</p> + +<p>There were other paintings—many of them equally strange +and wonderful—hanging on the walls, some of which contained +material he could not have derived from direct observation. It was +easy to discern in his work the fragments of nature that came +within the limited command of his own eyes—the falling snow, +the changing phases of the sky and of vegetation—for they +were presented with a stronger and more vivid touch. Until the +fading twilight blended all color into gloom I passed from one +canvas to another along the wall in silence, oblivious of all save +the presence of Rayel, who followed close at my elbow, evidently +enjoying my admiration of his work. When I had finished looking at +the paintings I turned for some sign to indicate his further +pleasure, and discovered that he was gone. My uncle was standing +near me.</p> + +<p>“It is late,” said he.</p> + +<p>We returned at once across the yard to my uncle’s retreat +among his books and papers. Lighting the lamps he sat down beside +me.</p> + +<p>“The power of speech is returning,” said he. +“I can talk more easily.”</p> + +<p>“Did I not hear you speak to your son?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered. “Long ago difficulties +arose. Sometimes he could not command my thoughts, nor I his. I had +known fifty years of life; he had not—hence an inequality. My +physical organism had been neglected. It was an imperfect agent of +the mind. Many of my faculties were lost. These circumstances stood +between us like barriers. It was the beginning of each +communication that troubled us, when our minds were working in +different channels. Something was needed for a cue—a +starting-point. Ten pregnant words of Sanscrit were all we needed. +It was easy then.”</p> + +<p>“I should think he would have lost the power of speech and +hearing,” I remarked.</p> + +<p>“No. Music saved them—abstract music. His voice is +wonderful. His hearing is quick. Rayel knows words but not speech. +His mind has command of my knowledge. He has never seen the world, +but he knows about it. I tried to begin my life anew and to forget +the past. But I could not wholly cleanse my mind of it. Its +memories faded slowly. I have avoided renewing them for his +sake.”</p> + +<p>“He could, then, learn to speak?”</p> + +<p>“With ease, and it were better if he could speak now. We +will teach him soon.”</p> + +<p>As he ceased speaking, fatigued by the unaccustomed effort, I +heard low strains of music echoing through the silent halls around +us. A violin! The tone was deep and tremulous, gradually growing +louder, filling the ear with its message, and lifting the mind to +lofty heights of thought and passion. We both sat listening for +hours, and midnight came before the last strain died away. That +music was like a strange story that drops its plummet deep into +life’s mysteries.</p> + +<p>“A new song!” said my uncle, turning to me with +surprise on his face. “He got the subject from you. We shall +see.”</p> + +<p>Presently Rayel entered the room, bringing something in his +hand—a picture—which he held up to the lamplight. A +girl’s face! and wonderfully like that of Hester Chaffin. I +sat amazed, staring at it. But the likeness was not exact, the face +was idealized—as I had seen it in my dream the night before. +I raised my eyes to Rayel’s face. He was looking at me with +an expression of pain and embarrassment.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p>My uncle recovered the power of speech rapidly. Before I had +been a week in his house he was able to talk with comparative ease. +He seemed to enjoy my companionship, and I spent most of my time in +his library, conversing with him or conning the musty books that +had long lain unread. To me this room was a fascinating and restful +place. Somehow it reminded me of an old cemetery. The time-worn +books upon its shelves stood in solemn rows, like headstones, +sacred to the memory of the men who wrote them—their titles +like inscriptions half obliterated. I did not see Rayel for days +after the midnight episode that gave me such a startling revelation +of his power.</p> + +<p>“Do you think that Rayel knows everything that passes in +one’s mind—a vivid dream, for instance?” I asked +my uncle one day when we were alone together.</p> + +<p>Yes, except when he is himself asleep. His command of my dreams +puzzled me at first. I thought I had put the past completely out of +my mind. But I could not hide it from him. Little by little he +learned everything in my history. One day I saw him at work on a +picture. It startled me. The canvas showed a man lying on a +surgeon’s table. The knife had just severed an artery in his +thigh. There were four men working over him—I was one of +them. Gradually the features took on a familiar expression. His +face grew paler under the brush. A few touches—the scene was +complete. The man was dead—his eyes wide open, staring at +me.</p> + +<p>My uncle paused and looked earnestly into my face.</p> + +<p>“It was a bit of your professional experience,” said +I. “Something had reminded you of it.”</p> + +<p>“The night before I dreamed about it” he answered. +“My mind, released from the command of my will, betrayed +me.”</p> + +<p>“A strange power!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Incredible to you! Impossible to acquire unless the work +begins at birth, and then the possibilities are infinite,” +said he, drawing his chair closer to mine. “You know what I +have done. Start the new-born mind on any highway and see how it +hurries along. You can do more, working a little while over the +cradle, than all the preachers under heaven, after its occupant has +grown beyond your ministry. I tell you, sir, the world is +indifferent to its children. Neglected by their parents, subject to +hired tenderness or none at all; left to the care of ignorant or +depraved nurses, and often taught little but selfishness and greed +of gain, the children of men are surrounded by destructive +agencies. Can we wonder that the human mind loses in infancy so +much of its native power? But so the generations of earth are +growing up, bearing embittered fruit and sowing its seed to the +four winds. Who cares for the mind and body of a child has the +highest possible mission—the most sacred of all trusts. He +must give it all his time and strength. He must lead its mind into +green pastures; he must share its joys; he must know its hopes and +fears; he must give it hold on lines of thought that reach into +eternity, which will sooner or later flood it with inspiration; he +must see that the brain has a sufficient foundation of flesh and +blood and bone; he must give it all his life until the germs of +power are developed.”</p> + +<p>“Unfortunately,” said I, “most parents have +other things to do and think of.”</p> + +<p>“Parentage is a crime under such circumstances. It has +peopled the world with fools and knaves. It delays the coming of +Christ’s kingdom. There are a few wise men, but they are held +down as gravitation holds the rock. There are laws of attraction in +the world of mind as in that of matter. Good and evil are its +poles. Every atom between them is held in place by the operation of +opposing forces. The general mass of mind lies within narrow zones +on both sides of the equatorial line of this imaginary world. Its +attraction prevents any men from rising far above or descending far +below it. I tell you, sir, the intellectual world has degrees of +latitude and longitude which determine every man’s location. +Emancipated from the forces I have described, my son has risen to a +level beyond the attainment of men under ordinary conditions. +Hypocrisy and deceit are things of which he knows nothing. I do not +ascribe to him, mind you, the possession of saintly virtues. He is +a man in whom the best potentialities of mind and body have been +developed. I have carefully avoided the danger of making him a +morbid, spiritual creature. His body is quite as wonderful as his +mind.”</p> + +<p>My uncle had been pacing restlessly up and down the room as he +spoke, often pausing before me and uttering his words vehemently, +with quick gestures and flashing eyes. He did not, seemingly, +expect an answer to his remark, for, as he ceased speaking, he +stepped before one of the windows and stood for a moment looking +out upon the courtyard.</p> + +<p>“See!” said he suddenly, motioning to me.</p> + +<p>I stepped to his side and, looking through the window, saw Rayel +running across the lawn with the lion on his shoulders. When the +beast sprang down he seized it by the mane and tossed it about like +one with the strength of Hercules. Here was a man who exercised his +rightful dominion over animated nature!</p> + +<p>“The beast is very fond of him,” said my uncle, +“and a movement of his finger is sufficient to control +it.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you adopt a pet so terrible?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“To secure isolation,” he answered. +“He’s an object of terror to intruders, and a source of +delight to us.”</p> + +<p>“You have snakes here, too,” I ventured.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and for the same reason, But they can’t harm +you now. Since you came we have killed them. They have been good +friends to me, but you were a stranger, and your life would have +been in danger every day. Years ago I procured a score of them from +the mountains of Pennsylvania and put them into the thickets. They +multiplied like rats, and so I was armed against invasion.</p> + +<p>“To prevent their escape I sank a screen of +wire two feet below the ground along the base +of the walls; I also posted a warning inside my gate. Long ago I +began to destroy them, and there were only a few left when you +came. They were good friends to me—excellent friends!” +he repeated, rubbing his hands with a grim smile. “For +eighteen years I have been able to carry on my work unmolested. No +knowledge of what was transpiring outside this little world has +ever reached me.”</p> + +<p>“How did you begin the work of teaching this interior +language to Rayel?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“By signs at first—gradually making them more simple +and suggestive. The elimination of signs kept pace with the +development of his intuitions. It was slow work and hard work, but +I gave all my time to it. After he became familiar with a sign, I +began to make it less pantomimic, until finally a lift of the +eyebrow, a movement of the lips, or an inclination of the head +served to express my meaning. In time he could detect the passing +shades of expression in my eyes and understand them. Look at +me,” said he, laying his hand on my head and watching my eyes +as the firelight shone upon them, for it was now evening.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know, my boy, that your eyes reflect what +is passing in your mind? Then there are countless nerves and +muscles in your face which proclaim thought. They aid my intuitions +to discover what you do not speak. You wonder—ah! you are +afraid!—afraid of me.”</p> + +<p>I started in my chair, for while he was looking into my eyes a +strange gleam came into his own. He turned about suddenly and +looked into the bright fire that burned on the grate before us.</p> + +<p>“Never fear,” he continued, nervously twirling a +lock of his white hair. “Never fear, sir —I am not mad. +Not yet. I have been afraid of it, but my reason will outlast my +life. Do you ever pray?”</p> + +<p>“Every day,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“Then you employ the interior language. We commune +directly with the Holy Spirit. You get some message from Him every +day more satisfactory than words. It’s the answer of your +prayers. I tell you, sir, words are an invention of the devil. Do +you like Rayel?” he asked, turning upon me abruptly.</p> + +<p>“You need have no doubt of that,” I answered, +“or of my willingness to look after him if it should be +necessary—to take him away with me and cherish him as I would +a brother.”</p> + +<p>“Good! Good!” he exclaimed smiling and rubbing his +hands joyfully. “I have not long to live. When the time +comes, take him out among the knaves and fools! But we must hurry: +our time is short. We must prepare him for a second birth. You will +find him an apt pupil—a very apt one. He already knows more +of the world than I thought possible. I don’t think you will +find him troublesome—he can help you; he will teach you +wisdom; he will enlarge the issues of your life. My fortune will be +ample for his needs: use it as you see fit. I have one servant +left,” he said, drawing his chair closer to mine and speaking +scarcely above a whisper: “I would like this to be his home +when I am dead. It will be better, however, to place him in some +public institution where he can be well provided for. I shall leave +a sufficient allowance for him. The manner of its bestowal I leave +entirely to your judgment. There were two of them—you have +seen the other. He was a faithful fellow. They were poor fools, +both of them, but uncommonly wise,” he continued. “They +kept it to themselves. I found them in an asylum twenty-five years +ago. They called them idiots. Idiots! God help us!”</p> + +<p>That strange light seemed to kindle in his eyes again while he +was speaking, and it conveyed anything but a cheerful suggestion to +my mind.</p> + +<p>“There is this difference between idiots and +madmen,” he continued. “The former are born outside the +pale of human sympathy; the latter overstep it. In either case they +are not of this earth—they are embodied spirits living in a +world of their own creation, biding the time of liberation from the +flesh. And do you know, there are more madmen in the world than it +dreams of?”</p> + +<p>He stopped with a tone of sharp interrogation and looked +squarely into my face.</p> + +<p>“There are undoubtedly many of them,” said I.</p> + +<p>“The lines of monomania all lead to madness,” he +continued. “The deeper one plunges into the mysteries of life +the nearer he approaches it. But, mark you, one man may venture +further than another. For years I have lived in fear of two +things—madness and death. Not on my account, but I had Rayel +to think of.”</p> + +<p>My uncle rose to his feet before he had ceased speaking and +walked stealthily on his tiptoes to an open door, where he stood +for a moment listening. I could hear nothing but the sound of the +wind whistling in the chimney.</p> + +<p>“Wait here,” he whispered presently, and then +disappeared through the door, closing it after him. I held my watch +down to the firelight and saw it was near eleven o’clock. I +felt drowsy, and had almost fallen asleep, when my uncle returned, +carrying a lantern. “Rayel is asleep,” said he, in a +whisper. “Won’t you come with me?—it will not +take long.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said I, rising, and waiting for him to +lead the way. He put on his antique hat and threw a shawl over his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>“It’s a chilly night,” said he. +“You’d better wear another coat.”</p> + +<p>I drew on my overcoat at once, wondering what new experience +awaited me. Holding the lantern in front of him, he proceeded +slowly and feebly across the rear courtyard, and unlocked a door in +one of the side wings of the house, through which we passed into a +large unfurnished room.</p> + +<p>“I always wait till he’s asleep,” said my +uncle, shuffling across the room and unlocking another door on its +opposite side. “He’s never been here—never +yet,” he continued, pulling the door open. The dim light of +the lantern shone out upon a thicket of fragrant spruce and cedar. +As I stepped down upon the ground, following in the steps of my +uncle, I could hear the murmur of the great pines towering far +above our heads. Slowly we made our way through the dense +undergrowth, and soon entered an open space carpeted with pine +needles and moss. It was a circular plot in the thicket, and out of +its centre rose an immense pine, whose upper branches wholly +obscured the sky. My uncle hung his lantern on a knot protruding +from the trunk of the tree, and slowly knelt upon the ground, +covering his face with his hands. Suddenly he beckoned to me, and I +knelt down beside him.</p> + +<p>“Listen!” said he. “Do you hear voices? She +comes to me here. Can you see her—my wife? Look about you, do +you not see her?”</p> + +<p>He laid his trembling hand upon my shoulder. Again I saw that +awful gleam in his eyes. The gruesome suggestion he had made set my +nerves tingling, and I peered about among the shadows of that dimly +lighted recess, half expecting some vision to greet my eyes. Then +there came a loud rustling of the branches high above us. The +lantern light flared up and suddenly went out, leaving us in total +darkness.</p> + +<p>“She is here!” he whispered, in excitement. +“Sit still—do not speak.”</p> + +<p>A deep silence, intensified by the sound of the night wind in +the trees around us, followed my uncle’s words. The going out +of the light he had seemed to regard as a signal from the spirit +world, and I sat still as he bade me, not doubting that his acute +senses had penetrated the veil which limited my own vision. I had +seen so many revelations of his strange power that I now sat +awestruck and afraid, waiting for some word from him to end my +suspense. I could see nothing in the darkness, but I could hear my +uncle breathing heavily, as if trying to suppress his emotion. +Suddenly there was a stir in the bushes near us. Then I heard a +step like that of a man on the thickly covered earth close by my +side. I stretched out prone upon the ground, covering my face with +my hands. I could hear a sound as of some one groping about in the +darkness, and then I felt the touch of a strange hand upon my +shoulder.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p>I shrank from the hand that touched me and, moving quickly +aside, struck a match and peered around. By its light I could +discern the form of a man standing near the edge of the thicket. +Rising to my feet I took down the lantern and lighted it. There, +standing before me, was the grinning mute who had admitted me to +the house. My uncle, who was still kneeling, rose feebly to his +feet, his eyes wet with tears.</p> + +<p>“Good friend!” said he, taking the lantern from me +and handing it to the mute. “He alway comes for me +here.”</p> + +<p>We followed the old servant in silence through the thick boughs +of cedar until we came to the door of a low-roofed wooden building +that stood by itself in the thicket. The mute opened the door, +ushering us into a small room containing a bed and some simple +furniture. A comfortable wood fire was burning in a large open +stove, and we both sat down in front of it, shivering from exposure +to the chilly air of the night. My uncle handed a key to the mute, +who unlocked a cupboard, taking from it a decanter of whiskey, +which he set before us with glasses.</p> + +<p>“It will warm you,” said my uncle, pouring out the +spirits: “ I have seen my wife. She always comes to me +there—when the light goes out. She knows your heart better +than I. We shall leave Rayel to your care. It is the last time I +shall come here. My work is nearly finished.”</p> + +<p>We emptied our glasses in silence, but my mind was busy thinking +on those impressive words, “She always comes to me +there— when the light goes out.”</p> + +<p>It was strange—this going out of the light just at that +moment. Was it not possible, I asked myself, that the lantern, +being always hung on the same projection, was thus in the way of a +current of air passing down the trunk of the tree when a gust of +wind struck its lofty branches? If so, the knot would naturally +conduct the current into the opening at the top of the lantern. My +reflections were interrupted by my uncle, who rose, and, taking a +candle, asked me to accompany him. I followed him into a cellar +filled with casks and barrels containing, as I supposed, wine and +provisions for future use. Returning, we passed through a large +room, in one end of which many boxes and barrels were stored. I +afterward learned that there was a large garden and poultry yard in +this lonely nook where my uncle’s only servant was +sequestered.</p> + +<p>I was glad when we started back through the thicket, for the +hour was late and I felt the need of sleep.</p> + +<p>“He gives us our food,” said my uncle, when we were +at length in the courtyard. “We have enough of everything +needful—but little meat. It destroys mental power. It is +fools’ food.”</p> + +<p>Next day my uncle was unable to leave his bed. I determined to +go to the hotel for my baggage and to post some letters, one of +which gave Mr. Earl an account of my experiences since the October +night when I became an inmate of that house.</p> + +<p>It was midwinter now, and the long stretches of pasturage and +meadow land outside the walls were blasted and sere when the old +mute, whom I had seen twice before, let me out of the big gate. +When I returned he was there to open the gate for me and help me +with my baggage.</p> + +<p>I found Rayel at his father’s bedside. The sick man was +asleep, and I went at once to the library, where Rayel soon came, +as was his custom in the afternoon, for a lesson in talking. Both +my uncle and myself had taken great pains to teach him this +accomplishment, and his progress had been even more rapid than we +thought possible. He caught the significance of words with +astonishing ease, but found some difficulty in producing their +sound. He went about it with great patience, however, repeating the +hardest words after me until he was able to pronounce them +correctly. But although the work was often tedious we both got much +fun out of it. I had never heard the sound of laughter in that +house. One day I broke its solemn spell by laughing heartily at the +grotesque distortion of my cousin’s face incidental to the +production of a difficult sound. He stopped suddenly and looked at +me, half alarmed. This made me laugh more heartily, and he grasped +my hand with the serious air of a physician feeling the pulse of +his patient. Being assured there was no danger, he indulged in a +little offhand cachinnation himself and was, I judged, well pleased +with the trial, for he repeated it frequently afterward, and +greatly to his amusement.</p> + +<p>The word “woman,” and others related to it, puzzled +him not a little, for he had never seen a woman, except through the +medium of my own mind and that of his father. The subject +interested him, and he gave much serious thought to it, questioning +me closely at some of our interviews, as if dissatisfied with the +idea conveyed to him. Our discussions, however, had reached some +slumbering chord in him, which, once touched, stirred his blood +with its vibrations. I do not think his isolation could have lasted +much longer, for he became restless and eager to see the world.</p> + +<p>Rayel was greatly depressed by his father’s illness. For +months after that night, the excitement of which had so hastened +the failure of the old man’s strength, the silence of the +great house was rarely broken by the sound of our voices. My uncle +lay helpless in a deep sleep most of the time, never able to leave +his bed until, revived by the freshness of approaching summer, he +had strength enough to sit in an easy-chair by the window. Some +fatal malady, the nature of which he did not disclose to me, was +evidently sapping his strength. I had urged him more than once to +let me summon a physician, but he would not permit me to do so. +When summer came at last, he grew stronger, and was able to walk, +supported by Rayel, to his chair in the open courtyard among the +flowers.</p> + +<p>The lion, which had been confined in its cage most of the time +since my uncle had grown so feeble as to need Rayel’s +constant attention sickened and died in the warm days of early +June. Rayel was sorely grieved by the death of his pet, and +although he stood in the shadow of a far greater sorrow, he felt +deeply the loss of this lifelong friend. The summer passed slowly, +one day like another, casting on us the same burden of anxiety and +silence. I spent much of the time in my uncle’s library, +poring over his books and trying to shake off the melancholy +thoughts suggested by my daily life.</p> + +<p>One day in early autumn, Rayel was sitting with me near an open +window overlooking the courtyard, where his father was enjoying the +open air.</p> + +<p>“He will die to-day,” said Rayel, calmly. “He +told me he would die to-day.”</p> + +<p>“He seems the same as usual,” I said. “We +cannot tell; he may live for months yet.”</p> + +<p>Rayel shook his head incredulously, and sat for a long time +looking out of the window in silence.</p> + +<p>“And I will go with you then?” he asked suddenly +turning toward me.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I answered.</p> + +<p>It was the first time he had ever asked me a question, for he +could read my mind like an open book, and to him all questioning +was unnecessary.</p> + +<p>While we were sitting there, thinking over our plans, my uncle +summoned us by rapping with his cane. Rayel turned pale, and, with +a whispered ejaculation, hurried out of the room and ran down the +path to his father, followed closely by myself. My uncle was +breathing heavily.</p> + +<p>“Count it,” said he, feebly extending his hand. +Rayel counted his pulse-beats.</p> + +<p>“Ninety-four, and growing quicker!” he exclaimed, +turning toward me with a frightened look.</p> + +<p>“It won’t increase much,” my uncle whispered, +feebly, but with a cool and professional air. “It will go +down soon, and then death will follow.”</p> + +<p>“Be calm, Rayel,” he continued, almost sternly, as +his son began weeping. “Be calm, I say! That music! do you +hear it, child? Do you see what is passing now? Tell it. Let me +hear you.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot hear it,” said Rayel, looking earnestly +into his father’s face.</p> + +<p>“Hallucination!” he whispered, groping about until +his hand rested on the head of his son, who was kneeling beside +him. “I seem to see millions of forms around me. I seem to +hear them, but I cannot see you—nor hear you.”</p> + +<p>As if exhausted by the effort, his head fell back upon +Rayel’s shoulder, and he lay for a time, his eyes closed, +struggling for breath. The dying man’s faculties would no +longer obey the whip of his mighty will. Indeed, they had done him +their final service, for in a few moments he was dead. Tenderly and +manfully, uttering no sound of grief, Rayel lifted the lifeless +body of his father, and bore it into the house.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p>In accordance with my uncle’s wish, which he had made +known to Rayel, we buried him the day following his death in the +sunny courtyard where he had spent the last days of his life. The +funeral arrangements were made as simple as possible, so as to +exclude all except the functionaries whose presence was absolutely +necessary. A rector of the Church of England read the service for +the dead before the body was borne to its grave by the undertaker. +When this brief ceremony was over, and the great gates were closed +again upon our seclusion, Rayel said to me:</p> + +<p>“I must talk more with you now, if you will let me. He +said you would help me after he was gone.”</p> + +<p>It seemed idle to assure him, who already knew my heart, of the +happiness it would give me to fulfill the pledge of friendship made +to my uncle.</p> + +<p>“Do you expect to see him again?” I asked.</p> + +<p>After a moment of the most serious reflection, he said:</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I shall see him again—when I die, then I +shall see him. He has gone to the Great Father, who gives life, and +who takes it away.”</p> + +<p>I found that Rayel, although entirely ignorant of the creeds and +dogmas prevailing among men, was profoundly religious, and that his +simple faith was built upon the deepest foundations. He evidently +gave much thought to the relationship between man and his Creator +after he felt the sting of bereavement, but it was a subject to +which he never referred in our conversation, unless, perchance, it +drifted in upon us.</p> + +<p>The weeks following my uncle’s death, during which I was +busy with preparation for the new life that awaited us, Rayel spent +in his studio working over some unfinished pictures. At my urgent +request, he completed the head whose resemblance to Hester Chaffin +had so startled and amazed me the night I saw it first, and he +regarded it with fonder interest than he was wont to bestow upon +the work of his brush. I believe that face was the closest +presentment of a human soul I shall ever see until standing, as I +hope to stand some time, in the presence of the redeemed, where +“that which is imperfect shall be put away.” I have +said that the picture bore a strong resemblance to Hester Chaffin, +but her face contained only a suggestion of that fine quality which +was so strongly presented in my cousin’s ideal.</p> + +<p>My uncle’s fortune, as described in his will, amounted to +nearly $250,000. The greater part of it—everything, indeed, +but the house and grounds—was in cash, represented by +certificates of deposit accompanying the will, and bonds of the +United States. There was a considerable bequest for me, whom he had +named as executor of the will, which, however, I determined never +to apply to my own use, except in case of Rayel’s death. A +handsome annuity was provided for his only surviving servant. The +remainder was left to Rayel.</p> + +<p>Having arranged for the maintenance of the old mute at an asylum +not far from the city, our preparations to leave were soon +complete. I was elated at the prospect of resuming my relations +with the busy world outside that lonely habitation. My first step +was to visit a lawyer for the purpose of ascertaining the legal +formalities which I must observe as executor of the will. Rayel +wished to go with me, and I gladly assented, for it seemed wise as +an initiatory step in the new life that was awaiting him. He waved +his hand to the mute, who stood looking at us through the big gates +after we had passed out into the road, and then he walked on beside +me in silence. The sun-shot haze of a beautiful autumn day hung +over the face of nature, and his eyes wandered down the long +stretches of landscape, and into the depths of the distant sky, +rapt by the vision that was unfolding before him. The changing +phases of the town he regarded with curious interest, which often +expressed itself in childish exclamations of surprise as we made +our way through the crowded streets.</p> + +<p>He was constantly calling my attention to things which, though +familiar and commonplace to me, were little less than wonderful to +him.</p> + +<p>“Look!” said he, suddenly taking hold of my arm. +“There is a woman!”</p> + +<p>He spoke in an eager, excited whisper, and shyly stepped behind +me as she passed us.</p> + +<p>“They won’t hurt you,” said I, subduing my +desire to laugh at his remark.</p> + +<p>Such unfamiliar exposure to the public eye soon began to grate +upon his nerves. I did not wonder at it, for nearly every one we +met took a second look at his commanding figure, and some stared at +him rudely. Remembering my own emotions when I first stood in his +presence, I was not at all surprised that others were moved in a +like manner. His were a face and form that stood out like those of +some heroic statue in the throng of common mortals.</p> + +<p>The proving and recording of the will was left entirely in the +hands of a reputable lawyer, who said that these formalities would +not detain us longer than a week.</p> + +<p>We had determined to spend the winter in New York before going +to England. Since reaching America my time had been quite filled +with work until my entrance upon the utter isolation of my +uncle’s home. It was my earnest desire to see something of +the big metropolis on the western Atlantic. Moreover, Mr. Earl had +advised me in his letters to give Rayel a chance to know more of +life in his own country before bringing him to England.</p> + +<p>When at last the faithful old mute had gone to his new home, and +we had turned our backs upon the silent and deserted mansion, Rayel +was moved to bitter tears. The thought of its loneliness, now that +its master was dead and we were leaving it, perhaps forever, +brought sad feelings to my heart. How calmly the old pines +whispered together as we walked down the road that morning I shall +not soon forget.</p> + +<p>We reached the American metropolis early in October, three years +after my first arrival there from England. I rented comfortable +apartments on Fifth Avenue, near Madison Square. As soon as Rayel +had recovered from the fatigue and excitement of the trip, we set +about unpacking his pictures and getting them framed. Our lightest +room was reserved for a studio, and the paintings were hung under +Rayel’s direction.</p> + +<p>We were scarcely settled in our new home when we received an +unexpected call from a newspaper reporter. He had learned from an +art dealer that we had some remarkable old paintings, and humbly +begged the privilege of looking at them. We made him welcome, of +course, but I explained to him that the collection was wholly the +work of my cousin, who was not yet old himself. In answer to his +questions I assured him that the paintings would not be exhibited +in the National Academy, and that my cousin’s work had never +appeared in any art exhibition whatever, at which he seemed greatly +surprised. Rayel was still shy of strangers, and, as he was +evidently a little annoyed at the presence of our visitor, I +shielded him from the need of taking any part in our +conversation.</p> + +<p>The next morning an article appeared in one of the leading +dailies, which subjected us to a glare of publicity not at all to +our taste.</p> + +<p>It went on to say that Signor Lanion, a young Spanish artist, +had just arrived in New York and had taken apartments at No. Fifth +Avenue. “Lanion” was the name which had appeared on our +bill for picture-framing, the clerk who had waited on us having +taken it down incorrectly. “Unfortunately,” the article +continued, “Signor Lanion does not speak English, and for +that reason the reporter was unable to interview him.”</p> + +<p>The paper described Rayel’s personal charms at much +length, and claimed the credit of having discovered a genius who, +although still a youth, had done work worthy of an acknowledged +master.</p> + +<p>We had deep respect for the influence of that newspaper before +another week ended. Art managers, tailors, advertising agents, +auctioneers and numerous men and women prompted by no motive but +idle curiosity, besieged us until we bolted our doors in dismay +against all comers. The mail, too, brought us missives of varying +import from persons who had read the article, one of which was a +polite letter from Francis Paddington, a Wall Street broker, whose +name I had heard frequently during my American travels.</p> + +<p>“It was not stated,” said he, referring to the +newspaper article, “whether or not any of Signor +Lanion’s paintings are for sale. If they are, I would be glad +to look at them with a view to making some purchases for my art +collection.”</p> + +<p>The letter suggested an idea worth considering. Rayel worked +rapidly and had already painted more pictures than we could hang to +advantage in any but the most liberal quarters. He was at a loss to +understand just what was meant by selling the pictures, but he was +willing to sell them if they were not to be destroyed —at +least some of them. Accordingly I wrote Mr. Paddington, appointing +an hour when we would be glad to see him or his representative at +our rooms. The gentleman himself did us the honor to call. After +looking at the paintings, he expressed his willingness to buy the +entire collection. I told him, however, that we would not part with +more than ten canvases, and he seemed glad to buy even that number +at a price which was so far in excess of our expectations that I +was loath to accept it. Our beloved “Woman”—that +was the title we had given Rayel’s strangely derived +conception—was among the paintings included in the sale to +Mr. Paddington. Rayel thought he could reproduce it, and for days +after it was gone he made ineffectual efforts to paint another +woman after the ideal of our hearts. But, alas! try as he would, +that face never came back to his canvas. Many beautiful faces were +conjured by his masterful touch, but they were other faces, and +none of them satisfied us. The failure made Rayel unhappy, and +tears came to his eyes when the “Woman” was referred +to, as if he were mourning the loss of a dear friend.</p> + +<p>Our patron had conceived a great liking for us, and we were soon +invited to visit his house “and meet a few of his friends at +dinner.” It would give us an opportunity to see the +“Woman” —perhaps to buy her back again—and +we were strongly inclined to take advantage of it. Our +patron’s residence was one of the largest and most elegant on +Fifth Avenue. It was a matter of common fame that his +entertainments were the cause of more envy and heartburning in the +fashionable sisterhood than any other events of the season. I had +some doubt about the propriety of taking Rayel to such a place, +unaccustomed as he was to the refinements and conventionalities of +fashionable life. However, he had set his heart upon going—he +was so eager to see his beloved picture—and I did not oppose +his wish. In writing our acceptance of the invitation I corrected +Mr. Paddington’s error regarding our name, and explained the +rechristening we had received in the public prints.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p>On the day of our appointment for dinner at Mr. +Paddington’s the newspapers were filled with accounts of a +sensational bank robbery, which had occurred in Wall Street the +night before. Between midnight and one o’clock in the +morning, thieves had entered the Metropolitan Bank, overpowered the +watchman, broken into the vaults and stolen half a million dollars +in currency without leaving any clew behind them of the slightest +value to the police. The subject interested Rayel intensely, and at +our breakfast that morning we talked of little else.</p> + +<p>“When they have found the thieves what will they do with +them?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Send them to prison,” I answered, “where +thieves are kept apart from the rest of humanity.”</p> + +<p>“And yet these thieves were not in prison. They could not +have robbed the bank if they had been in prison.”</p> + +<p>“True, but there are a good many thieves in the world who +are not suspected. They look like honest men and are highly +successful in concealing their dishonesty.”</p> + +<p>“I should think,” he said thoughtfully, “that +one would know a thief by his face.”</p> + +<p>“Remember,” said I, “that all men are not like +you. Most of them are easily deceived.”</p> + +<p>“Why, then, Kendric!” he exclaimed joyfully, +“I can do some good with this power of mine.”</p> + +<p>This conversation may seem commonplace enough, but it stands in +close relation to important events which will shortly claim our +attention. The subject which it introduces was not soon abandoned. +We talked about it on our way to the Paddingtons’ that +evening, where we were cordially received by our host, and +introduced to a large company of ladies and gentlemen.</p> + +<p>Rayel’s wonderful skill with the brush had evidently been +the subject of some discussion among Mr. Paddington’s guests. +It was referred to frequently, and somewhat to the embarrassment of +my cousin, in the exchange of greetings that followed our +introduction.</p> + +<p>Greatly to the relief of my fears Rayel seemed quite at ease. He +acknowledged the compliments paid him with gravity and +self-possession, but with few words. All eyes were raised to his +face, as he stood head and shoulders above a group of ladies and +gentlemen who had gathered about him. Never had his presence seemed +so magnetic and impressive since the first time I saw him in his +father’s house. Now, as then, a new inspiration was stirring +his blood and charging every nerve with the wonderful magnetism of +perfected manhood.</p> + +<p>The last person presented to us was a young lady of unusual +beauty, whom I noticed for some moments standing across the room in +earnest conversation with our host. Presently he made his way +toward us with the lady on his arm.</p> + +<p>“My daughter, Mr. Lane, whom I shall ask you to escort to +dinner,” said he, addressing Rayel. After I had been +introduced to the young lady she took Rayel’s arm, and the +company proceeded to the dining-hall. My seat at the table was +almost directly opposite Rayel. His grave and dignified demeanor +was made doubly conspicuous by the coquettish airs and ready tongue +of the young lady who sat beside him. Under a steady fire of +compliments and questions and artful glances I saw that he began to +grow uneasy.</p> + +<p>“That was a beautiful portrait you painted!” +exclaimed Miss Paddington, looking sentimental.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said he; “my cousin also admires +it, but I must own that it does not quite suit me.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you are an admirer of the lady it +represents,” said she, peering shyly into his eyes. +“The Count de Montalle has fallen in love with her and has +borrowed the portrait from my father.”</p> + +<p>“Ze picture—ah! monsieur, it is beautiful,” +said the Count, who sat near them. “But ze lady—she sat +for me long ago and I had ze honor myself to paint her +portrait.”</p> + +<p>He was a thin, wiry Frenchman, with small, black eyes, a +forehead sloping to a bald crown, an aquiline nose and a pointed +chin, adorned with an imperial. The face was almost mephistophelian +in effect. He had painted her portrait! Was the man an impostor? I +asked myself.</p> + +<p>“The Count is an artist himself, you know,” said +Miss Paddington.</p> + +<p>“Yes—an artist?” asked Rayel in a +half-incredulous tone. Then he looked inquiringly at the gentleman +referred to, as if doubtful of his own understanding of the words +he had repeated.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the Count with emphasis. “For +twenty years I have devote myself to ze art.”</p> + +<p>“To what art, sir?” asked Rayel, in a tone +suggesting doubt.</p> + +<p>I was now thoroughly frightened at the serious turn of the +dialogue. Was this “Count” a pretender and one of the +many bogus noblemen of whom I had read? Rayel was sounding him, +that was quite evident. I saw now the mistake I had made in +bringing my cousin to such a place.</p> + +<p>“Quel impudence!” exclaimed the insulted nobleman, +under his breath.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, sir,” quickly answered Rayel, “I +did not know it was wrong to ask you.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you would paint my portrait, Mr. Lane,” said +the young lady, who did not seem to appreciate the gravity of the +situation.</p> + +<p>“That would be easy enough,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“Would it? Ah, but I fear you would find me too plain a +subject. I am not beautiful, you know, but if I wore my best +clothes you might think I would do.”</p> + +<p>For some time Miss Paddington continued to spin out threads of +small talk, while Rayel sat listening. The dinner was nearly over +when the climax came which I had already begun to fear.</p> + +<p>“It is strange,” said Rayel thoughtfully. “You +speak what is not true, Miss Paddington. You said that the Prince +of Wales gave you the beautiful opal, but tell me—was it not +your father who gave it you?”</p> + +<p>He waited a moment for her answer.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I understand now,” he continued. “People +do not always speak the truth—do they?”</p> + +<p>The young lady turned red with embarrassment, while an unnatural +smile played upon her lips.</p> + +<p>“But—but what is the use of talking then?” he +asked. No one seemed disposed to answer.</p> + +<p>“It is strange,” he continued, with childlike +<i>naïveté</i>, turning to the young lady sitting at his left, +“you have been laughing as if you were very happy, but you +have felt more like weeping. This must be a very sad world!” He +ceased speaking as if some suspicion of the pain his words were +causing had suddenly come to him.</p> + +<p>The whole company turned its eyes upon the two. The young +lady’s face became suddenly pale and almost horror-stricken. +Rayel’s words were spoken in such a gentle and sympathetic +manner that every one was mystified.</p> + +<p>“Have you read about the great robbery that occurred last +night?” asked Mr. Paddington, with the evident purpose of +diverting attention from the young lady. “The vaults of the +Metropolitan Bank on Wall Street were blown open with dynamite, and +half a million dollars were stolen. No trace of the thieves has +been discovered.”</p> + +<p>“Too bad!” exclaimed half a dozen of the guests +seeking to enhance interest in the subject.</p> + +<p>“Zey were very bold about it,” said the Count, as he +lighted a piece of sugar soaked in cognac and held it over his +coffee.</p> + +<p>Just at that moment a singular thing happened. The lights grew +dim and suddenly went out, as if the gas had been turned off. The +burning cognac cast a white flickering light upon the face of the +man who had just spoken.</p> + +<p>“You say there is no trace of the thieves,” said +Rayel. “That is strange, for one of them is in this room +sitting at your table.”</p> + +<p>Only one face was visible, and all eyes were turned upon it, for +now the effect of that pale light keeping it in view was +indescribably weird. The eyes were suddenly turned in the direction +of Rayel, and a devilish glare came in them for an instant, when +the face suddenly seemed to shrink back into darkness. The ladies +and some of their more gallant escorts rushed precipitately from +the room. The servants hurried in with candles, but light was no +sooner restored than the guests who still remained at table rose, +as if by general consent, and left the dining-hall. Miss Paddington +and Rayel were the last to leave the table. When they had passed +out into the drawing-room her father came and took her arm, bowing +coldly to my cousin. It was evident that our presence was no longer +desired in the house of the Paddingtons. And no wonder!</p> + +<p>“Let us go,” I said, proceeding to the coat room. +The Count met us on the way.</p> + +<p>“You are a liar—a jackass!” he hissed into +Rayel’s ear.</p> + +<p>Hastily drawing on our coats we stepped out into the chilly +night air and walked leisurely down the deserted avenue. Neither of +us spoke for some moments. Presently Rayel asked:</p> + +<p>“What is a jackass?”</p> + +<p>He stopped and took my hand as if expecting an answer of great +moment.</p> + +<p>“A man who always tells the truth in this world—he +is a jackass,” I replied.</p> + +<p>I was a little irritated by the trying experiences we had been +through. Perhaps that is why my answer savored so strongly of +cynicism.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p>Painful as had been our introduction to polite society, the +reaction which followed it was scarcely less so. Next day we stayed +indoors until evening, when we ventured out for a walk with fear +and trembling lest the newspapers had already increased our fame +and our mortification. The twilight of a cloudless autumn day was +closing in upon the city, and the keen, bracing winds which sweep +over the American metropolis from the sea brought the color to our +faces. We walked down Broadway, now quite deserted, in silence, and +as we were passing Wallack’s Theatre Rayel stopped suddenly, +and stood for a moment looking into the brightly lighted foyer. +Stepping in, he beckoned me to follow. I immediately saw what had +attracted his eye, for on an easel just inside the entrance was the +portrait of our woman. On a placard below the picture was the name +“Edna Bronson.” Our surprise was mingled with sad +regret at seeing it playing a false part to serve the ends of an +unscrupulous manager.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps she is here! suddenly exclaimed Rayel.</p> + +<p>“That is very unlikely,” I answered, “but we +shall see.”</p> + +<p>I bought tickets for the evening’s performance and we +hastened home, strangely elated, to dress for the play.</p> + +<p>Our seats were in one of the lower proscenium boxes and quite +clearly exposed to the gaze of the thousands who filled the theatre +in winding rows, ascending and receding to the roof high above us. +The garish decorations, the gay throng bedizened with jewels +sparkling in the light and the hundreds of fair faces and bright +eyes that were turned toward us presented a spectacle entirely new +to Rayel. Shortly the curtain rose and the play began. Its first +scene was a counterfeit of real stage life in an English theatre. +An important performance is impending and at the last moment both +the leading lady and her understudy are suddenly taken ill. The +management is in a quandary. In the midst of its confusion the +stage carpenter suggests that he has a daughter who can play the +part. When this functionary came upon the scene my interest in the +play began to wax stronger. Hester Chaffin’s father had been +a stage carpenter, and this turn in the scene startled me not a +little after having found our picture in the foyer.</p> + +<p>The carpenter’s suggestion is at first treated with +ridicule. He insists that she has learned the part from witnessing +the rehearsals, and urges the managers to give her a trial. The +performance must begin in four hours or be postponed. It is found +that the costumes prepared for the part will fit the young lady. +They consent to try her, the company is hastily summoned together +for rehearsal, and the curtain falls on the first act. The audience +waited impatiently for it to rise again and show what fortune might +have in store for the carpenter’s daughter, but of all that +audience I was probably the most impatient.</p> + +<p>“There is the Count,” whispered Rayel, directing my +attention to the opposite box. The diabolical little Frenchman was +there, sure enough, sitting next to the rail, and sweeping the +audience with his opera-glasses.</p> + +<p>Soon the curtain was rung up and the rehearsal began which was +to test the powers of the venturesome young lady. Suddenly she +appears at the rear of the stage dressed for her part in +Elizabethan costume. She is greeted with loud applause, and she +stands a moment, waiting for silence. The lights have been turned +down and I cannot see her face distinctly. Before the last ripple +of applause is quieted, she advances down the centre of the stage +and begins to speak her lines. That voice! What is there in it that +thrills me so strangely? When she ceases speaking she is standing +almost within reach of my hand. Suddenly her eyes meet mine and I +see Hester Chaffin standing there on the stage and looking into my +face. She recognizes me, for she seems confused and proceeds with +evident embarrassment.</p> + +<p>I turned to Rayel—he, too, was deeply moved by this great +surprise.</p> + +<p>“Our woman has come to life,” said he, in tremulous +whispers. “I knew we would see her sometime.”</p> + +<p>How she had changed! She was little more than a child when I saw +her last: now she was almost a woman, but not more beautiful than +when I bade her good-by in the moonlight at her father’s +gate—long, long ago, it seemed to me now. Was the scene I had +witnessed a passage in her own life since I had left Liverpool? At +the close of the act an usher carried my card to her. Presently I +was summoned to one of the corridors where a lady was waiting for +me.</p> + +<p>“Is this Kendric Lane?” she asked, extending her +hand.</p> + +<p>“It is,” I responded.</p> + +<p>“I have heard of you often. Miss Bronson is an old +acquaintance of yours, whom you knew as Hester Chaffin. Would you +like to see her?”</p> + +<p>“I wish to see her to-night, if possible,” said +I.</p> + +<p>“May I ask you, then, to go to this address and wait for +us until the performance is over? Hand this card to the night clerk +of the hotel and he will show you to our rooms.</p> + +<p>Scribbling a few words upon the card, she gave it to me, and +hurried behind the scenes.</p> + +<p>Rayel and I immediately left the theatre and walked to our +apartments. The play would soon be over and we had no time to lose. +On the way home I noticed that he frequently turned about and +peered through the darkness as if expecting some one to join us. He +said nothing, however, and as I was so preoccupied by my own +thoughts, I did not ask for whom he was looking.</p> + +<p>“Shall I not go with you?” he asked, when we had +reached home.</p> + +<p>“You had better wait up for me; I shall not be gone +long,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“I can walk back again when we get there, or perhaps I can +wait for you in the hotel?” said he.</p> + +<p>He was not yet accustomed to life in a great city, and it did +not seem wise, either, to permit him to walk home alone, or to wait +for me in the hotel among strangers. He did not seem quite content +to stay, however, and there was a troubled expression on his face, +which was new to it, and which I could not put out of my mind after +I had left the house. The hotel to which I had been directed was on +Union Square. It was not far from our apartments, and I intended to +walk there, but I had not gone half a block before the street was +lit up with a vivid flash of lightning, followed by deafening +thunder, and the wind blew damp in my face. I hurried toward Third +Avenue, intending to mount one of the horse cars going down-town, +but suddenly a fierce gust of wind swept over me, sowing great +drops of rain along the pavement. I looked about for a cab. The +street was deserted and so dark that I could see nothing except the +gloomy rows of brown stone that stood on either side. While I was +looking backward another flash of lightning illumined the street. +What man was that coming in the distance? Was it Rayel? No, that +was scarcely possible. I had only caught a momentary glimpse of him +in the quick flash. He was tall and erect like Rayel, and I thought +the hat was his. But my imagination must have tricked me after all, +for nothing showed clearly. I walked back a few steps and listened. +I could hear no footsteps, but then he might have followed me, and +I ought to be sure. So I called, “Rayel! Rayel!” twice, +and waited for an answer, but could hear none. I had not time to go +back to our rooms, as Hester was undoubtedly waiting for me now, +and Rayel was certainly not the man I had seen, or he would have +answered me. So I hurried along without giving any further thought +to my fears. But where was Third Avenue? Its character was not then +so sharply defined as in these days of elevated rail-roads +—perhaps I had passed it. I had already walked a long +distance, and I had not yet recognized that thoroughfare. I could +hear footsteps behind me and I determined to wait a moment and +inquire my way.</p> + +<p>“I am going there—walk along with me,” said +the man whom I questioned. Just then we passed under a street lamp. +I observed that he wore a large coat and muffler and that he was +walking under an umbrella. Another man, also under an umbrella, +fell in with us at the next corner. As we walked along in silence I +heard some person coming at a run down the street quite a distance +behind us. I was listening to this sound when I received a terrific +blow on the back of the head. I fell forward, one side of my face +striking heavily upon the pavement. Strangely enough, I seemed +unable to make any outcry, but I had not lost consciousness, for, +as I lay with my face resting on the wet stones, I could feel the +rain drops falling on it. I could hear those quick footsteps coming +nearer. Yes, I could hear Rayel’s voice shouting in a loud +and angry tone, but, try as I would, I could not utter a sound. As +I listened, the two men clutched me with strong hands and dragged +me through an open door, which quickly closed behind them. It was +no sooner shut than Rayel threw himself against it with terrific +force. I could hear the door groan and shake under the strain. +Once—twice, I was struck with cruel force upon the +head— then a loud roaring in my ears drowned everything.</p> + +<p>I can remember well the first return of consciousness. It was +like the slow breaking of dawn in the sky. I could hear voices +singing:</p> + +<p class="song">Hark! hark! my soul! angelic voices swelling<br /> +O’er earth’s green fields and ocean’s wave-beat shore.</p> + +<p>I could just distinguish those words. Where was I? Strange +thoughts began trooping through my mind. Then a great wave of +emotion swept over me. I could hear a low moaning sound that came +from my own throat. I could feel the hot tears rolling down my +cheeks. A gentle hand was brushing them away and some one was +speaking to me. I was lying on a soft bed. A sweet-faced woman was +bending over me, whom I had never seen before.</p> + +<p>“Where am I?”</p> + +<p>“In the hospital,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“The singing—who is singing?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“It is the chapel choir,” she answered; “the +services are nearly over now. It is Sunday.”</p> + +<p>“Is Rayel here?”</p> + +<p>“Your friend? yes, he has been with you every +day.”</p> + +<p>“How long?”</p> + +<p>“Almost a month.”</p> + +<p>I tried to ask other questions, but a drowsy feeling overcame me +and I fell asleep.</p> + +<p>When I awoke again Rayel was sitting beside me. As I opened my +eyes he leaned over and kissed my hands.</p> + +<p>“They thought you were dead once,” he said; +“but I knew you were not dead—I knew you were not +dead.” I lay for a moment trying to collect my thoughts. My +head was in tight bandages and something was binding my chest.</p> + +<p>“Where is Hester?” I asked. Rayel did not answer. He +was not there, but somebody was holding one of my hands. It was a +lady kneeling beside me, her face leaning forward upon the bed. Who +could it be? I closed my eyes and listened to the rustling of +withered leaves outside the window, and the low humming of insects +in the autumn sun. These were prophetic sounds, and they opened the +gates of thought and memory. A new life was coming now. What was it +to be? Again I felt myself drifting into sleep. I tried to keep my +eyes open and resist the drowsiness that overcame me, but in vain. +When I awoke Rayel had returned.</p> + +<p>“You have slept a long time,” said he.</p> + +<p>“When I fell asleep a lady was here.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it was our ‘Woman,’” he +replied— “the lady you love. She has come every day to +see you.”</p> + +<p>“Where is she now?”</p> + +<p>“She had to go away, but she will soon come back +again.”</p> + +<p>“Who brought me here?”</p> + +<p>“I broke down the door—I found you there. You could +not see me nor speak to me, but I knew you were not dead. The men +were gone. I carried you out into the street. A policeman met me, +and I told him what had happened. Then the ambulance came and we +put you into it, and you were brought here. For a long time you lay +like my father after he was dead. Your face was white—like +snow. They had stabbed you in the side— they would have +killed you if I had not broken the door.”</p> + +<p>“Who struck me?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“I knew,” he said, his eyes flashing, “I knew +the devil was in their heads—that is why I wished to go with +you. They followed us that night.”</p> + +<p>“Who?” I asked, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“The Count de Montalle and another man.”</p> + +<p>My cousin’s answer amazed me.</p> + +<p>“Have you made known your suspicions?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No. I have been waiting to talk with you +first.”</p> + +<p>“Do not speak of it yet to any one,” I said. +“Let us await developments.”</p> + +<p>I foresaw that Rayel would only get a reputation for insanity if +pressed to the point of explaining his suspicions. It seemed quite +likely, also, that any futile discussion of the subject would +defeat justice.</p> + +<p>That day brought me a letter from Hester, whom I had been +looking for with much impatience since I had begun to feel more +like myself. She would shortly have fulfilled all her professional +engagements, and would then return at once to New York. “I +wonder,” she added, somewhat coquettishly, “if you will +be glad to see me.” On this point there was no doubt in my +mind, and although my strength increased rapidly, the days passed +with tedious slowness after that.</p> + +<p>I was sitting by the window one morning, looking out upon the +moving throng in the opposite street, when the door of my room was +suddenly opened. I supposed that one of the physicians had come to +see me, and I waited for him to speak.</p> + +<p>“Kendric!”</p> + +<p>It was Rayel who spoke my name, but somehow his voice did not +seem quite natural, and I turned to greet him.</p> + +<p>“This is our ‘Woman,’” said he, +advancing toward me with Hester upon his arm.</p> + +<p>I rose feebly to my feet, confused by the sudden announcement, +and took her extended hand. We looked into each other’s eyes +for a moment without speaking. My own were rapidly filling with +tears, and I could see her but dimly.</p> + +<p>“What a fine outlook you have!” she said, in a +tremulous voice, turning suddenly to the window and looking out +upon the trees now half stripped of their foliage by the autumn +winds. We both stood staring out of the window in silence. For my +part, I could not have spoken if I had known what to say. How she +had changed! The blushing little miss who had awakened the pangs of +first love in my youthful heart was a beautiful young woman, now +full grown and arrayed in costly finery. Rayel was the first to +speak.</p> + +<p>“You must be glad to meet again—you have loved each +other so long,” said he.</p> + +<p>Honest Rayel! He knew our hearts—their longings, their +histories, and also the vanity and pride that dwelt in them. Why +should there be any concealment between her and me?</p> + +<p>“It has been a long time—a very long time to me, +Hester, for I have loved you ever since we first met.”</p> + +<p>She turned toward me, her eyes filled with tears, and I drew her +to my heart and kissed her fondly.</p> + +<p>“We have only known each other as children, +Kendric,” said she. “Your heart may change and mine may +change—let us wait and see.”</p> + +<p>Then she left us, promising to come again next day.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p>Hester and her maid looked in upon me every morning after that, +until I was able to leave the hospital. During these visits we told +each other the eventful story of our lives since the night of our +parting at her father’s gate. Her first appearance on the +stage had been, as I suspected, literally represented in the play. +For years she had been permitted to accompany her father behind the +scenes, and nights when the cast was short she had played small +parts with great success. The glamour and excitement of stage life +had proved distasteful to her. She assured me that it was her +intention never to go back to it, and this strengthened my hope +that she would some day consent to become my wife. Rayel had told +her, during my illness, the strange story of his life. She knew +nothing, however, of his wonderful powers, until I had related to +her some of the experiences which had revealed them to me. He had +said nothing to her, I learned, about our discovery of the +picture.</p> + +<p>“Who painted the remarkable portrait of you which we saw +at the theatre?” I asked her one day.</p> + +<p>“It was painted, I believe, by a French nobleman, who +presented it to me here in New York. I suppose it looks a little as +I did once, but it is certainly too flattering and much too +maidenly for me now.</p> + +<p>“The Frenchman is an impostor and worse,” I said. +“The portrait was painted by Rayel and sold to a broker of +the name of Paddington, from whom the Frenchman borrowed or bought +it.”</p> + +<p>Her amazement could scarcely be overestimated when I told her +what occurred at Mr. Paddington’s dinner-party.</p> + +<p>“The Frenchman,” she said, “has been paying me +unwelcome attentions ever since the first night of my appearance in +New York. He became so odious to me at length that I refused to +accept any of his gifts, and, in spite of the protests of my +managers, returned everything he had sent me, including the +portrait.”</p> + +<p>I did not tell her that it was this same Frenchman to whom I was +indebted for my wounds. Of that I must wait for more palpable +evidence, though not for my own convincing. It seemed strange to me +then that just at the moment this thought was passing through my +mind she asked me whom I suspected of having committed the assault. +It occurred to me after she had gone that possibly she had some +cause to suspect the man who had been the subject of our +conversation.</p> + +<p>Rayel always came late in the day, when there was no chance of +meeting other callers, and stayed with me until bedtime. As +returning strength brought back to me that interest in life which +prompts keen observation, I could see that a great change was +coming over him. His face wore a melancholy look which indicated +too clearly that his mind was suffering under some sad oppression. +He was as gentle and considerate as ever, and as tireless in his +efforts to increase my comfort, but he rarely spoke now, except in +reply to my questions. He would sit by my side for hours, gazing +out of the window with a vacant look in his eyes, until the light +of day grew dim and the lamps were lighted. When supper was served +to us I could never induce him to eat.</p> + +<p>“What is the trouble, Rayel?” I asked, one evening. +“You are not yourself lately.”</p> + +<p>Neither of us had spoken for a long time. He turned suddenly, as +if startled by my words, his lips quivered, and stammering almost +incoherently, he rose to his feet. Then he stood erect before me +for a moment, looking sadly and thoughtfully into my eyes.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, Kendric,” he said presently, in a deep +tone that trembled with emotion. “I think I have been working +too hard and need exercise—that is all.” Then he +grasped my hand warmly and bade me good night.</p> + +<p>I believe his answer to my question was the first lie that he +had ever spoken.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p>Next day I was discharged from the hospital, and Rayel and I +were driven to our apartments. He had a number of surprises +prepared for me. A large painting on his easel, awaiting some +finishing touches, compelled my attention as soon as I entered the +room. It represented a scene in our own lives, which had lasted but +a second, but which could never be forgotten by either of us. He +had seen me when I stood looking backward in that vivid flash of +lightning—there could be no doubt of it now, for here was the +scene transferred to canvas. The shaft of white light shaking and +darting across the black sky like a gleaming sword; the man on the +sidewalk looking backward with a startled glance; the big drops of +rain falling sidelong in the wind—these were all reproduced +on the canvas. His later pictures were characterized by a cynical +tendency, which I observed with regret. It was evident that his +sensitive mind had taken impressions from its brief contact with +men, which were sadly affecting his thought.</p> + +<p>He showed me numerous letters, many of which were from women who +desired to visit his studio and see his work. Indeed, my cousin had +apparently grown suddenly famous in the American metropolis. He was +the victim rather than the victor of fame, however, and regarded +the matter with very serious concern. The press of New York had +been full of gossip concerning his “eccentricities” +since the event which had put my life in danger. One of the society +journals had printed a highly colored version of that little +episode at the house of the Paddingtons, and had concluded its +article by saying that the fair Miss Paddington had fallen madly in +love with her father’s strange guest.</p> + +<p>That night, as we were sitting by the grate fire in our own +rooms, Rayel, encouraged by our seclusion, began to emerge from the +silence to which he had seemingly gone back for refuge in time of +trouble.</p> + +<p>“We shall soon be ready to start for England,” I +said.</p> + +<p>“I do not wish to go to England, Kendric,” said he. +“For a long time I have thought over it. Let me go back to +the old house and live by my father’s grave, until the good +Lord takes me to a better home. I would miss you, dear Kendric, and +every day I would look for you to come, but I shall be happier +there.”</p> + +<p>His words touched me deeply, and I was not prepared to answer +him with perfect calmness, although I had lately suspected that his +despondency would lead to this resolve.</p> + +<p>“Why must we separate now, after we have become so dear to +each other?” I asked. “Something has happened to change +your purpose since I have been ill—tell me what it +is.”</p> + +<p>“To speak frankly, Kendric, I must say that the world has +sadly disappointed me. It is full of vanity and deceit and +selfishness. Every day brings to me some hideous revelation which +the mercy of heaven has hidden from others. I have seen the +righteous forsaken of men, and the wicked receiving homage; I have +seen the unjust triumphing over the just; I have seen some reveling +in abundance while others were begging for bread. Everywhere I have +found want and misery staring me in the face.</p> + +<p>“Remembering what Christ said, I sold all I had and gave +to the poor, and now there is nothing more I can do. My best +pictures, my money and all my extra clothing have gone to feed the +hungry and cover the naked. And even now, when I have nothing left +to give, I find as much misery as before. Often, since I have been +alone, I have had nothing to eat and no fire to keep me warm. Then +I feared to tell you what I had done, and I bore it in silence, +hoping that I might earn more money by painting. But I could not +work. When Hester came back I told her all my troubles, and she +gave me money, not only for my own use but for the use of others +who needed it more than I. She and I have wandered about the city +by day and by night, ministering to the sick and the +friendless.”</p> + +<p>He ceased speaking, his head bent forward upon his hands. It was +indeed a serious situation into which a too generous heart had +betrayed him. Nearly all his fortune had descended to him in cash +on deposit, and payable either to my order or to his. He had +therefore saved nothing for himself that had been available for the +satisfaction of his good impulses. Instead of displeasing me, +however, as he feared, his action only increased my love for him, +if that were possible.</p> + +<p>“Do not let these things trouble you, Rayel,” I +said. “We shall find no difficulty, I think, in earning money +enough for our needs. I cannot see you shut yourself away from the +world: you have yet an important work to do among men. You are now +morbidly sensitive to the misery that surrounds us, but you will +feel it less keenly as it grows more familiar.”</p> + +<p>“You do not understand me, Kendric,” said he, +starting from his chair, and pacing restlessly up and down the +room. “I cannot deceive you any longer. In begging you to +leave me, it is your own happiness I am thinking of. Please go as +soon as possible,” he pleaded, laying his hand gently upon my +shoulder. “Take her with you, and let me stay.”</p> + +<p>My heart seemed suddenly to have stopped beating.</p> + +<p>“My God, Rayel!” I exclaimed. “Are we both in +love with the same woman?”</p> + +<p>“No, Kendric, no,” he said quickly, taking my hand. +“I do not mean that. I would not permit myself to love her, +knowing that you love her also.”</p> + +<p>“What, then, do you mean?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“That there is danger,” he answered huskily, sinking +into a chair. “I am a fool not to have thought of it long +ago!”</p> + +<p>His words seemed to sting me, and for a moment I could not +speak.</p> + +<p>“You know what is in her heart, Rayel,” I said +presently. “Tell me, is it false, or is she, as I have +thought, a pure and noble woman?”</p> + +<p>“She is pure and worthy of your love,” he answered. +“Her life has been much exposed to temptation, but her +character has been greater than any temptation. When she began to +go with me among the poor I did not know what love was. I had never +felt the power of it, nor did I think of the danger to all of us. +When at last it came upon me, and I saw what it meant, I resolved +not to see Hester again until God had given me strength to subdue +that passion. For days my heart was near breaking. When you asked +me to tell you what made me sad, I had not the courage to do it. +Then I told you a lie. I did the very thing which I have so much +condemned in others. This trouble has taught me to comprehend and +to pity the frailty of men. I look forward with fear and dread for +my own sake.. I shall be safe in my father’s house. I must go +back, but, before I go, forgive me. Tell me that you do not despise +me.”</p> + +<p>As he ceased speaking he laid his hand upon my shoulder and +peered into my face with a frightened and appealing look.</p> + +<p>“Despise you!” I repeated. “No. You are dearer +to me now than ever. What you have told me will bring us closer to +each other, if we consider it wisely. As yet there is no pledge +between Hester and myself, save the assurance given by unuttered +thoughts. Her heart is free. I have no right to claim it. If she +loves you I shall wish you both much joy.”</p> + +<p>“That will not be necessary, Kendric. I had rather die +than know that I had come between you. I cannot even risk the +danger of it. I must leave you to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Under no circumstances will I consent to that. My promise +to your father and my duty to you forbid it. To go back now would +be cowardly and unworthy of you. With my help and guidance you can +do great things. We must face the world with stout hearts. As to +this trouble, let us concern ourselves about it as little as +possible. I believe that whatever may be best for all will happen +if we but wait with patience.”</p> + +<p>Rayel made no answer, and for some moments we both sat looking +at the glowing embers in silence.</p> + +<p>“I shall obey your wish,” he said presently; +“I cannot do otherwise. I am like a child, and must look to +you for instruction in all things. Perhaps there will come a time +when I can repay you.”</p> + +<p>“It will be a pleasure for me to help you as I would a +brother, and you will owe me no gratitude for it,” I +said.</p> + +<p>We sat discussing our plans for the future until near midnight. +When we went to bed at last, Rayel looked happier than I had seen +him before since my recovery at the hospital.</p> + +<p>When I awoke it was near midday. I went to call Rayel and found +that he was gone.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p>After waiting for him nearly an hour I went to a neighboring +restaurant for breakfast. On returning I found that he had not yet +come back. Alarmed at his continued absence I went at once to +Hester’s apartments, scarcely expecting, however, to find him +there, but confident that she would be able to tell me where he was +likely to go.</p> + +<p>“No doubt he has gone on some good errand,” she +said. “Has he not told you of his charitable +enterprises?”</p> + +<p>“He told me last night how they had reduced his +fortune.”</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow!” she continued. “In his zeal for +others he quite forgot his own needs. I would have told you about +it, but that he implored me to spare you any knowledge of his +condition. I think we shall be able to find him. Let us go and +try.”</p> + +<p>Hester and I set out at once, walking rapidly against a biting +east wind toward the river. On reaching Second Avenue we took a car +and rode down among the big tenements towering into the sky on all +sides in the lower part of the city. Alighting in the midst of +these human hives, we made our way through a wretched crowd, +shivering in the livery of destitution, down a long and narrow +alley. Entering one of the doorways we climbed a steep flight of +stairs, above which was a squalid throng pressing about an open +door on the landing. The women held children in their arms, and +many of them were crying bitterly. The men stood in silence peering +curiously over the heads of the further throng into the crowded +chamber. Some of them greeted Hester with great respect, and moved +aside that we might have room to enter. As we neared the door I +could hear a babel of strange tongues and the voices of women +calling down the blessings of Heaven upon some one in their midst. +It was Rayel. He stood in a corner of the room holding two little +children in his arms, and the crowd was pressing forward as if +eager to speak with him. He was talking in a low voice to those +nearest him, but I was unable to catch his words. There were men +and women of many nationalities in the throng. I saw Italians, +Celts, Poles, Germans and even men whose swarthy faces and peculiar +garb betokened Syrian origin. When we pressed nearer to Rayel I saw +some, as they came within reach, extend their hands and touch him +fondly, uttering exclamations as they did so, often in a tongue +that was strange to me. These simple-minded people seemed to regard +him as a supernatural being whom it was good to talk with, and +whose touch it was a blessing to feel. A look of love and +gentleness and sympathy irradiated his face and invited their +confidence. These were evidently the poor whom he had befriended, +and he was now taking leave of them, probably forever. It was a +scene the like of which few can ever hope to witness. After all, I +thought, what manner of riches can be compared to the satisfaction +which Rayel feels at this moment? I was quite ready then to applaud +his unselfish generosity, for in that gloomy and unclean place I +first saw the full radiance of God’s truth that it is +infinitely more blessed to give than to receive. We stood for a +long time looking upon this memorable meeting of Cadmus and +Caliban. When at length he caught sight of us, Rayel came where we +stood, and said he was ready to go home. Perceiving that we were +about to go, the crowd hurried from the building into the narrow +alley leading out upon the street. Some shouted endearing farewells +as we passed them, and many of their hardened faces were wet with +tears. The sun was just going down and the shadows were deepening +between the high walls looming above us as we started homeward. +Hester insisted that we must dine with her and decide upon the day +of our departure. Rayel and I went directly home for a bath and a +change of clothing, after which we proceeded at once to +Hester’s apartments. Evidently somewhat fatigued by the +day’s experience, Rayel had little to say while we were +eating dinner. It was arranged that we would start for England by +the first steamer on which we could secure a comfortable passage. +We had no sooner finished our coffee than a servant announced Mr. +Benjamin Murmurtot, who wished to see Miss Bronson.</p> + +<p>“A reporter!” exclaimed Hester. “There’s +no dodging them in America. Shall I ask him in for a +moment?”</p> + +<p>We said yes, of course, and Mr. Murmurtot presently fluttered +into the room. He was a natty little man, with a large nose, a bald +head and a decidedly English accent.</p> + +<p>“Delighted to see you, Miss Bronson,” said he, +“delighted, I’m sure. Thought I’d call and pay my +respects before you leave the city.”</p> + +<p>He greeted us all with like effusiveness and sat down facing +Hester.</p> + +<p>“It’s very kind of you,” said she; “but +pray how did you know I was to leave the city?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I’m sure, Miss Bronson, everybody knows you +are going home to be married?”</p> + +<p>“It is true that I am going home soon,” said she, +“but I must decline to discuss my object in doing +so.”</p> + +<p>“Pray pardon me; I’m a journalist, you know,” +said Mr. Murmurtot, “and I earn my living by impertinence. +Have I not seen you before, sir?” he continued, facing Rayel. +“I think you were at the theatre one evening some time +ago—sat in the lower box at the right of the stage—I +remember it well, sir.”</p> + +<p>“I remember the occasion,” said my cousin, with his +accustomed gravity.</p> + +<p>“I read about that occurrence at Mr. Paddington’s +dinner-party, sir,” continued Mr. Murmurtot. “It was +decidedly clever in you, sir— deucedly clever! Everybody is +talking about it, now that the Count has been arrested.”</p> + +<p>“Arrested!” I exclaimed; “has he been +arrested?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, this morning, for the robbery, you know. They say +that the police have secured evidence that will convict him sure, +but it seems they are not yet ready to make it public; reporters +can’t get the Inspector to say a word about it, you +know—not a word.”</p> + +<p>There were exclamations of surprise and gratification from all +present, save Rayel, who remained silent, while a faint smile stole +over his face.</p> + +<p>“I knew they would find him out,” said he.</p> + +<p>“I hear that you are a mind-reader, sir,” said Mr. +Murmurtot, again addressing my cousin.</p> + +<p>“And you are a detective, I believe, and not a reporter, +said Rayel. “It is good that we understand each +other.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Murmurtot started with surprise at the remark.</p> + +<p>“I do not know how fully you may be acquainted with my +secret,” said he, “but permit me to assure you that I +am here on a friendly mission.</p> + +<p>“I have no doubt of that,” said my cousin.</p> + +<p>“Let me proceed directly to the object of my visit, then, +which is to learn how soon you expect to return to +England.”</p> + +<p>“By Saturday, if possible,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“That is good,” said he, turning toward me. +“The sooner the better. In the meantime it will be my duty to +keep a sharp eye upon you; I have been near you all day. You need +not feel any alarm—only do not be surprised if you meet me +often. I am responsible for your safety, that is all.”</p> + +<p>“For whom are you acting?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“My dear sir,” said he, rising to go, “men in +my line of business must not talk too much. Good night.”</p> + +<p>After he had gone we asked Rayel to tell us more about this +mysterious visitor, but he was unable to do so.</p> + +<p>When we started away Hester put on her wraps and walked with us +to the cab. As we alighted at our own door I saw a man standing by +the street lamp on the corner, some distance away, whom I +recognized as Mr. Murmurtot. I found a letter from Mr. Earl +awaiting me at home, in which he urged us to hasten back to England +as soon as possible after my recovery.</p> + +<p>“You and Rayel,” he said, “will, I trust, make +your home at my house.”</p> + +<p>Next day we began our preparations for the voyage.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p>It was on a bleak and windy night in December that we were +driven through a pelting rain to one of the docks on the North +River, which our steamer was to leave at high tide in the early +morning. When we alighted Mr. Murmurtot stood shivering in a +greatcoat and muffler close by the passengers’ entrance.</p> + +<p>“This is a good place for a warm greeting,” said he, +taking Hester’s hand. “I’ve stood here so long +that my teeth are chattering from the cold.”</p> + +<p>“Won’t you come aboard with us?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” he replied; “but I expect to sail +with you in the morning.”</p> + +<p>“’Sa rough night, sir,” said the porter who +carried our luggage, “but we’ll find it a bit rougher +outside, I’m feered, afore anither night.”</p> + +<p>Fatigued by a long day of arduous work, we went at once to our +staterooms. I was soon asleep after getting into my berth, but was +awakened by the tramp of feet on the upper decks and the shouting +of the crew long before the ship left her moorings. They reminded +me of the first night I had ever spent on an ocean +steamer—the night I left Liverpool on that journey fraught +with danger I had not then dreamed of. I had grown old very fast +under the influences that had come into my life since then. Indeed, +I was now a man, whereas I had been only a boy when I left England. +But Rayel was with me now, and that repaid me for all I had +suffered. What would he have done in that lonely mansion after his +father’s death? For hours my mind was occupied with these +reflections, and at length I determined to dress myself and go on +deck. Rayel awoke while I was dressing and decided to go with +me.</p> + +<p>We found the decks thronged with people, and the ship’s +crew were bustling about, getting ready to sail. We stood near the +gangway, facing the dock. A man was pacing back and forth in the +opening whose figure seemed familiar to me. Presently he came +aboard, and as he passed near us I saw it was the omnipresent Mr. +Murmurtot.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if he is afraid somebody will steal the +ship?” I remarked.</p> + +<p>“No, he is looking for some person,” said Rayel, +divining my thoughts.</p> + +<p>“All ashore! Stand away, there!” shouted one of the +ship’s officers.</p> + +<p>The passengers fell back, the gangway was pulled aboard, the +great hawsers were loosened, and the ship moved slowly away from +the dock. We stood for a long time watching the river craft and the +receding lights of the city. The ship was well beyond the Atlantic +Highlands when we went to our stateroom and to bed again. We slept +until late in the morning, and arose barely in time for a late +breakfast with Hester. Rayel seemed cheerful enough and took more +than ordinary interest in his surroundings. When we had risen from +the table he led me aside and directed my attention to a short, +stout man with a bristly growth of close-cropped black hair, a low +forehead and shaggy eyebrows, who was leaning lazily against the +railing of the stairway.</p> + +<p>“Let us avoid him,” he whispered. “I do not +like his looks.”</p> + +<p>What can this mean? I asked myself, as we all proceeded to the +deck. Perhaps he was the man the detective was looking for.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful sunlit afternoon, and the vessel rode +steadily in a sea that was growing quiet under the dying impulse +that the winds had left behind them. We drew our chairs together on +the deck near the stern of the vessel, and had settled down for a +quiet chat among ourselves when we were unexpectedly joined by Mr. +Murmurtot.</p> + +<p>“Delighted, I’m sure!” he exclaimed, with the +same inimitable drawl I had noted on the occasion of our first +meeting. I soon observed that the artful little gentleman was +master of an elaborate system of exclamations by which he +encouraged one to talk freely without saying anything himself.</p> + +<p>In response to my assertion that we had been exceedingly busy +getting ready for the trip he said simply: +“Indeed!”</p> + +<p>It was a very unusual burst of confidence in which he was moved +to express his views with any greater freedom. When the remark +which preceded it was evidently expected to meet with Mr. +Murmurtot’s concurrence, then he would say, “Yes, +indeed!”</p> + +<p>If the remark were one to which this response would be +inappropriate he often went to the extent of observing, “I +dare say!” seemingly ventured after careful consideration of +the chances for and against the proposition which provoked it.</p> + +<p>“My dear sir, I do not agree with you,” he would +always say when he felt compelled to differ with me. If the +difference in our views chanced to be extremely radical, he would +throw particular emphasis upon the word “dear,” as a +sort of recompense for his opposition. These forms of speech, with +occasional and slight variations, were always employed by Mr. +Murmurtot as a medium of thought and sentiment.</p> + +<p>In the midst of our conversation I noticed the man whom Rayel +had pointed out to me when we arose from the breakfast-table. He +was standing against the rail, not twenty feet from where we sat, +and as I looked at him he turned away and walked leisurely down the +deck. In a moment Rayel was on his feet, and, excusing himself, he +proceeded in the same direction. An hour later, as he had not +returned, I left Hester with Mr. Murmurtot and went forward in +quest of him. He was in the reading-room, apparently interested in +a newspaper. As he did not observe me, I sat down behind his chair +without disturbing him. To my surprise I saw that he was not +reading the paper, but that his eyes were furtively watching the +mysterious stranger he had followed, who sat on the other side of +the room listlessly puffing at a cigarette. I was seated scarcely a +moment when Rayel seemed to be aware of my presence. Looking from +face to face until he had discovered me he arose and came to my +side.</p> + +<p>“I was trying to read a newspaper,” said he, leading +the way to the door, “but reading is still hard work for +me.”</p> + +<p>“I saw that you did not seem to be looking at the +paper,” said I, as we proceeded to the deck. He made no +reply, but stopped and looked out across the waste of waters at the +horizon.</p> + +<p>“Do you know that man?” I asked.</p> + +<p>For a moment I stood waiting for his answer. Apparently he had +not heard my question, and I repeated it in a somewhat louder +tone.</p> + +<p>He turned suddenly with an impatient exclamation. There was a +flash of anger in his eyes as he faced me. I had never seen him in +such a mood before.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” said he. “I am only angry with +myself. Come, Hester will be looking for us.”</p> + +<p>I did not venture again to refer to our bristly fellow-passenger +in Rayel’s presence. Never inclined to talk much, even with +me, he was becoming more silent than ever as the voyage continued. +Day by day his interest in that strange man seemed to increase. He +spent as little time as possible in my company. When not with me he +was hounding him about the ship, keeping him in sight from some +favorable point of observation. What was the meaning of it? The +question forced itself upon my mind persistently by day and night, +and begat in me a gloomy reticence which Hester was quick to +observe. Every day I expected some revelation from Rayel, but he +said nothing about the man in whom he had taken such extraordinary +interest.</p> + +<p>We had been over a week at sea, and I was sitting alone one +afternoon, when Mr. Murmurtot came along and asked if he might +introduce an acquaintance of his whom I ought to know. Then he went +to find the gentleman, saying that he would return in a few +moments. He had no sooner left me than my mind reverted to the man +who had been the bugbear of my thoughts since we left New York. +Presently Mr. Murmurtot touched my arm. Looking up suddenly, I saw +standing before me the very man of whom I had been thinking.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Lane, let me introduce you to Mr. Fenlon,” said +the detective. I shook the hand that was extended to me +mechanically, and made some incoherent response—I do not +remember what. I had been taken by surprise. My voice was unnatural +and my strength seemed to have left me suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Are you not well, sir?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No, sir, he is not well yet.”</p> + +<p>It was the voice of Rayel that answered for me. He was standing +by my side, his lips tightly drawn, and his eyes fixed upon the man +Fenlon. There was a terrible look on his face as he stood there +towering above us. The man turned pale and moved quickly backward +two or three steps, staring at my cousin as if in fear of receiving +a death-blow. For an instant, only, he stood like some fierce +animal at bay, then turned and walked hurriedly down the deck. The +situation was made all the more impressive by the interval of +silence that followed Rayel’s words.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” said Mr. Murmurtot, taking my hand, +“if this meeting was unpleasant. It was necessary.” +Then he bowed politely and walked away. The sun was just going down +as Rayel and I entered the cabin, where Hester was waiting for +us.</p> + +<p>“The captain thinks we will reach Southampton before five +in the morning,” said she.</p> + +<p>I was glad to learn that our voyage was so near its end.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p>After dinner Rayel and I went at once to our stateroom.</p> + +<p>“I am out of patience with myself,” said he, as soon +as we were seated. “My mind is failing me just when I need it +most. I have grown dull and stupid. For more than a week I have +been trying to find out that man’s secret. I knew that he had +a secret, and that it concerned us. Not until to-night was I +certain that I had found it out. Once I could see the truth +clearly. No matter how deeply it was buried under lies—I +could see it. But now there is something like a mist before my +eyes, and I am sure of nothing. Perhaps it is because I am now a +liar myself, as bad as any of them. God have mercy on me!” +said he, rising, and speaking with much animation. “I know +now what is blinding my soul. When a man lies he loses some degree +of his power to distinguish between truth and falsehood.”</p> + +<p>He stood looking into my face impatiently, as if waiting to hear +what I would say to his remark.</p> + +<p>“That would be the natural result, I have no doubt,” +said I; “but are you not trying to convict yourself of too +much wickedness and stupidity?”</p> + +<p>I had never considered the misfortune of knowing too +much—of being able to detect every difference between word +and thought, between appearance and reality. That was the power +which Rayel possessed, and it increased his moral responsibility by +as much as it transcended the power common to others. Here, indeed, +was a man ripe for the fate of a martyr.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you tell me Fenlon’s secret, if you +have found it out?” I asked. “I’ve been thinking +about it night and day since we first saw him.”</p> + +<p>“Be wise! Don’t try to learn too fast, +Kendric” said he. “You shall know it soon, I am sure of +that—indeed, I promise that you shall.”</p> + +<p>“I am quite willing to wait on the future for everything +if you think it is best,” I said.</p> + +<p>We sat for a long time, making plans for our future life in +England. It was near midnight when we retired to our berths, but we +were up early in the morning, eager to catch the first sight of +land. On reaching the deck we were overjoyed to see the distant +spires of Southampton glowing in the morning sun.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Earl met us at the station of the Southwestern +Railway in London, and we were driven at once to their home. Hester +came to breakfast with us, but Mrs. Earl would not let her go to +Liverpool that day, ship-worn and fatigued as we all felt after the +voyage.</p> + +<p>“You resemble your father, sir, when he was of your +age,” said Mr. Earl, addressing my cousin, as we were eating. +“But you are larger, much larger, than he was.”</p> + +<p>“You were my father’s friend when he was a young +man, I believe?” said Rayel.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he and his brother were my best friends in those +days. I tried to induce him to study law, but he was more inclined +to medicine.”</p> + +<p>Rayel had found a man quite after his liking and the two were on +the best of terms at once. Indeed, he seemed to talk with my +benefactor as freely as he ever talked with me. I found Mrs. Earl +very much as I had imagined my mother to have been— a +full-faced, ruddy-cheeked woman; with a sweet voice and gentle +manners. She greeted me as if I were her own son returned from a +long journey, and when we sat down to talk after breakfast, I felt +the joy and peace of one who has found a home after much +wandering.</p> + +<p>I spent the afternoon with Mr. Earl in his library, and he +listened with deep interest to the complete story of my life since +the night we parted in Liverpool.</p> + +<p>He had many questions to ask me touching the attempt upon my +life, and my replies were jotted down in his memorandum-book. After +I had told him all that I was able to tell he sat for some moments +thoughtfully turning the pages of the book, stopping now and then +to read some of the memoranda.</p> + +<p>“It looks pretty bad for them, doesn’t it?” +said he calmly, looking up at me over his spectacles. “But +we’ll bring this matter to a climax very soon,” he +continued. “We haven’t seen the last act of the play +yet. You need not have any further fear for your safety—I +will look after that. You may feel quite free to go and come as you +please in this part of the city. Above all things we must avoid +letting them know that we suspect anything; it might defeat me in +getting hold of the last bit of evidence that is necessary to +complete our case.”</p> + +<p>I nodded, and waited for him to proceed.</p> + +<p>“Let us go carefully until we’re sure of our +ground,” he continued. “Your stepmother knows you are +in London, of course. You must go and see her. Take your cousin +with you, and—well, you will know how to treat them. After +all, you must bear in mind that in the eye of the law every man is +innocent until he is proven guilty. Adopt that view of the case +yourself. You needn’t fear anything from Cobb or his wife. +Only be reasonably prudent.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve no fear that they will try to do us any +harm,” said I; “and I would greatly enjoy visiting the +old house. Perhaps we could go to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“The day after. You’d better go down to Liverpool +to-morrow with the young lady, and return by the night +train.”</p> + +<p>That day saw the beginning of a deep and lasting friendship +between Hester and Mrs. Earl. When we left next morning to go to +Hester’s home in Liverpool, she promised to return soon for a +long visit. By ten o’clock we were well out of smoky London, +on the way that I had already traversed once before, with a +cheerful heart most creditable to me under the circumstances. Mrs. +Chaffin was waiting for us at the gate when we alighted in front of +the old wood-colored cottage—that haven of weary legs in days +gone by. Phil (who had lengthened noticeably in the service of +Valentine, King & Co.) was there, too, and all the rest of the +Chaffin household in Sunday clothes. Mrs. Chaffin was quite beside +herself with joy.</p> + +<p>“Dear-a me!” said the good lady, after the +salutations were over. “Dear-a sakes! How you’ve +growed! I didn’t think you’d ever live to get s’ +big. I thought as ’ow som’ ’arm ’d come to +ye when ye went away, an’ Hester—”</p> + +<p>“Mamma!” exclaimed Hester, with a reproving glance. +“Don’t tell him.”</p> + +<p>“I’m that fidgety I don’t know what I’m +sayin’. The Lord bless us, but ye must be hungry!” said +the good woman, as she spread the table for dinner. She had guessed +rightly, and Hester bustled about, helping her mother get the +dishes on the table, with a critical eye to all the arrangements. +Rayel was much amused by the children, the youngest of whom had +climbed upon his knee and was taking liberties with his cravat. He +was wholly unaccustomed to the pranks of children, and we +frequently rallied to his defence. He seemed to enjoy them, +however, and was soon involved in a spree at which both Hester and +I laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>“This herring ain’t extra good, sir, but I +’ope it won’t go ag’in’ ye,” said +Mrs. Chaffin to Rayel, as we sat down to the table.</p> + +<p>He seemed in doubt for a moment as to what it would be proper to +say in reply to this well-intended remark.</p> + +<p>“I have never eaten a herring, madam,” said he, +gravely, “but I have no doubt it will be good.”</p> + +<p>“I ’ope so, sir—indeed, I ’ope so; but I +dare presume to say that it will taste bad enough to the likes of +you.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chaffin (good soul) had evidently concluded that my cousin +was a man entitled to extra politeness. Hester had adroitly +side-tracked the herring question and started another train of +speculation, when her mother’s misgivings were again excited +respecting the tea, which Rayel had just tasted.</p> + +<p>“Murky, sir?” she asked, with a glance of alarm. +“I ’ope it don’t taste murky.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chaffin’s solicitude respecting the tea and the +herring reminded me of the first time I had stretched my tired legs +under that hospitable board at Phil’s invitation; of those +big, wondering eyes that stared at me across the table; of the +songs and stories which beguiled the evening hours.</p> + +<p>The candles were lit before dinner was over, and when we rose +from the table it was to gather about the warm fire and exchange +memories, while Rayel listened with deep interest. Phil had been +promoted from a pair of legs to a pair of hands, and was now third +bookkeeper for the firm. Our carriage came for us at nine +o’clock. Hester had decided to stay a day or two with her +mother, but it was necessary for Rayel and me to return to London +that night, as we were to make an important call the next day.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p>Late in the afternoon of the day following our visit to +Liverpool we ascended the big stone steps of my old home and pulled +the bell. After all, I found that my nerves were not quite steady +while we were waiting for the door to open. We had come intending +to spend the night there, and my benefactor had given me certain +precautions not calculated to make me feel entirely at home. Was +there some deeper plan underlying his suggestion as to this visit +than he had chosen to explain? I had not long to consider that +point, however, for suddenly the door opened and a servant in +imposing livery confronted us. I handed him my card and we were +shown into the reception room at once. Presently he conducted us to +my stepmother, who greeted me with a great show of cordiality and +some tears. She had grown old fast since I left home, but she had +artfully disguised the evidences of age upon her face and neck. Why +had I stayed away so long? What had she done to deserve such +shameful neglect? These and other questions taxed my wits for an +answer that would neither outrage my own conscience nor offend her. +Mr. Cobb, who had just returned from his office, suddenly entered +the room. His face assumed an ashen pallor, and he stared at me +quite dumfounded for a moment, when I arose and stood before +him.</p> + +<p>“It is Kendric. Don’t you recognize him?” said +my stepmother.</p> + +<p>“So it is!” he exclaimed. “But he’s +grown quite out of my recollection.” The man had recovered +his self-possession in a moment, and treated me, it must be said to +his credit, with marked coolness. I was likely to get on with him +very well, I thought, but the fawning attitude of his wife quite +unhorsed me. If I am to see the devil I’d rather he’d +frown than smile. Cobb had very little to say to us, and left the +room at the first opportunity. In doing so he had shown scant +consideration for his wife, however, as it left a burden upon her +shoulders that must have taxed her strength. But she was not +unequal to it. Her smile broadened after he had gone, and there was +a tone of deeper sincerity in her expressions of regard. We had +been to dinner, and if she would kindly send a little cold lunch to +our room at bedtime that would be quite sufficient. During her +absence for dinner the reaction came. When my stepmother returned +she seemed to have suddenly grown older, and she looked at us +through haggard and sunken eyes. Surely this was a terrible +punishment she was undergoing, and I pitied her. Mr. Cobb had an +important engagement to keep, she said, and hoped we would excuse +him. Slowly the evening wore away and at ten o’clock we were +shown to our room, greatly fatigued by this trying experience. It +was a room fronting the street on the third floor, which I had +occupied before I left home. The walls had been painted white since +then, with a frieze of gold along the ceiling. My father used to +sleep in the room directly under it. Rayel had been silent and +absent-minded all the evening, rarely speaking except in reply to +some question.</p> + +<p>“I feel sad for some cause I do not understand,” +said he, preparing to retire. “I shall be glad when to-morrow +comes.”</p> + +<p>“We will go back in the morning,” I said. “You +don’t feel at home here, do you?”</p> + +<p>He did not seem to hear me, but tried the door, which I had +already bolted, and then got into bed, yawning and shivering, for +the room was cold. I turned down the light, and, opening the +shutters, looked out upon the street, now deserted save by a +solitary man who had just passed the house and whose slow footsteps +were gradually growing less distinct. I crouched there, listening +for some moments to that fading sound, when it began to grow louder +again. The man had turned about and was coming back. As he passed +under the lamp on the opposite corner I thought I recognized the +slim figure of Mr. Murmurtot. Suddenly I was startled by a noise in +the room adjoining ours, and sprang to my feet in a tremor. Plague +take my imagination! It was somebody going to bed. I sat down again +and for a long time looked out at the man walking back and forth in +front of the house. I was rapidly getting into a condition of mind +unfavorable to rest and, closing the shutters, I went to bed at +once. For hours I lay tossing restlessly from one side to the +other, and finally fell into a deep sleep. I must have slept a long +time when I suddenly awoke, laboring with nightmare. I had heard no +sound, I had felt no touch, but all at once my eyes were open and I +knew that I was awake. The lamp was burning dimly on the table +beside my bed. How my heart was beating! And my arm— how it +trembled when I tried to raise up on my elbow and look about the +room!</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?” I whispered. Was it Rayel +standing near the bed, his body swaying backward and forward, or +was I yet asleep? Everything looked dim and weird. I seemed to be +in some silent ghostland between sleeping and waking. I rubbed my +eyes and peered about the half-darkened room. It was Rayel, and, as +I gazed at him, his eyes seemed to shine like balls of fire. I +called to him, but he made no answer. What had happened since I +went to sleep? Alarmed, I threw the covers aside and leaped out of +bed. As I did so he stepped up close to the opposite wall, and, as +his hand moved, I could hear the grating of a crayon on its +surface. In tremulous haste I turned up the wick of the lamp and +tiptoed toward him, holding it in my hand. He was stepping backward +and excitedly pointing at the wall. He had been drawing a picture +on its white surface—the form of a woman holding something in +her hand. I stepped nearer, still carrying the lamp. A sharp +interjection broke from my lips. The woman pictured there was my +stepmother, and it was a knife that she held! A man was lying at +her feet. Again Rayel stepped forward, and again I heard the crayon +grating on the wall. Then he stood aside. Great God! There were +drops of blood dripping from the knife now. Rayel sank down upon +the floor and covered his eyes with his hands. I stood there, dumb +with fear and horror, looking first upon him and then upon the +picture.</p> + +<p>The silence of the night was unbroken save by those slow +footsteps in the street to which I had listened before retiring. +But suddenly I heard a low wailing cry in the room adjoining ours. +It so startled me that I came near dropping the lamp. Strange and +weird it sounded, gradually growing shriller and more terrible to +hear! It was the voice of my stepmother. Was she dreaming? And had +Rayel seen the vision that affrighted her? Was that dagger pricking +her brain? In a moment the swelling cry broke into a sharp scream, +such as might come from one exposed to sudden peril, and ceased. +Then the sound of a bell rang sharply through the house, followed +by loud knocking at the door and a man’s shout.</p> + +<p>“Open the door, I command you!” he said.</p> + +<p>He must have heard that piercing cry. Rayel still lay motionless +upon the floor. Was he asleep? Why did he not rise? I began to feel +numb. I seemed to have lost the power of motion. I could hear some +one rapping at our door, but I could not move.</p> + +<p>“Kendric! Kendric! Kendric!” Was it my stepmother +who was calling me? What a piteous, pleading tone! “Let me +speak to you, Kendric! For God’s sake, let me tell +you!” I was reeling: my strength had all left me. Crash! went +the lamp at my feet. There was a great flash of light, which +dazzled my eyes, and I fell heavily upon the floor.</p> + +<p>I was in the open air when thought and feeling came back to me. +My hands and face were paining me as if they had been terribly +burned. There were a number of men standing over a motionless +figure that lay beside me.</p> + +<p>“The poor lad!” said one of the men +“he’s nearly roasted. See here how the clothes have +been burned away from his neck! Can’t ye stop the blood? The +mon’ll die afore the amb’lance comes ef we don’t +stop the blood. A brave mon he is, too. D’ye see ’im +coming down the stairs with th’ other one on his +back?”</p> + +<p>Of whom were they talking? I struggled to my feet—I could +feel no pain now—and bent over that still form which had been +lying beside me. Oh! it was the heaven-blessed face of Rayel, now +bleeding and scarred and ghastly. I raised his head. The hair fell +away where my hand touched it, and a groan escaped his lips. I +could not speak nor weep nor utter any sound. A strange calmness +came over my spirit and I sat there motionless, bending over him I +loved so well, while the crowd of men looked on in silence. +“After His own image made He man;” these words came to +my mind as I looked into that dear face. Then I prayed in +silence—for him. Thank God! his eyes were open now and his +lips were moving. I bent lower until I could feel his breath upon +my cheek.</p> + +<p>“Is it you, Kendric?” he whispered. “Did I +save you from the fire? I cannot see you, but I know you are +here.”</p> + +<p>I heard his words distinctly, but I could not answer. The power +of speech seemed to have left me.</p> + +<p>“The fire awoke me,” he continued, moaning. +“We were lying on the floor. I called to you, but you did not +answer. Thank God! you are safe now.”</p> + +<p>Returning consciousness brought with it an increasing sense of +his pain, and he began to struggle and groan in dreadful agony. +Suddenly, extending one of his blackened hands until it touched my +face, he shouted in a loud voice:</p> + +<p>“Kendric! Kendric! help—help me!”</p> + +<p>Then some men laid hold of me and lifted me up. I clung to Rayel +with all my strength, but could not resist them, and as I was borne +away I knew that Rayel and I had parted forever.</p> + +</div> +<div> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<p>After that midnight parting the first thing I can recall was the +touch of a gentle hand upon my face. When my eyes opened I saw +Hester bending over me.</p> + +<p>“You are at home now, Kendric,” said she. Such a +feeling of weakness came over me that I could not speak. I thought +a nail had been driven into my brain, but the tears that began +rolling down my cheeks and the moans that broke from my lips seemed +to loosen it.</p> + +<p>Many days passed before I was able to reflect upon this last +tragic episode in my life or to take any thought of the morrow. One +evening I awoke from a deep sleep feeling a new interest in life. +There were people sitting in the room and talking in low tones.</p> + +<p>“Has he asked for Rayel yet?” said one of them.</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“Better not let him know about it yet. There’s time +enough. He’ll be around soon.”</p> + +<p>I called to them and they came quickly to my bedside. There were +Hester and Mr. Earl and his good wife, all looking down upon me +with smiling faces.</p> + +<p>“You need not be afraid to tell me now. I know that Rayel +is dead.”</p> + +<p>They made no answer.</p> + +<p>“I know he is dead, but tell me how it happened,” I +said. “There is no danger; I am quite strong now.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Earl took my hand and told me in a low, calm voice, all he +knew of the tragedy. He only knew, however, that the lamp had +exploded and that Rayel had been horribly burned by the oil.</p> + +<p>“I suppose,” said he, “that the lamp was on a +table near his bed when it exploded. In a moment the whole room was +afire, and you, no doubt, being asleep at the time, he lifted you +up and ran with you down the stairway and out of the open door. But +in the meantime he had been horribly burned, and he fell in a faint +as soon as he reached the pavement. Strangely enough you were +unconscious for some moments, although you were not badly burned. +Probably it was the smoke.”</p> + +<p>Then no one knows, thought I, what really did happen that night. +The lamp must have fallen almost directly upon Rayel’s head, +and the oil had no doubt saturated his hair and clothing.</p> + +<p>“And the house?” I asked. “Is +that—”</p> + +<p>“In ashes,” he replied.</p> + +<p>Then every trace of that strange event, which no eye save mine +had witnessed, was wiped out forever. The hideous secret had better +never be told.</p> + +<p>“If I was not badly burned, tell me why I have been lying +ill.”</p> + +<p>“Brain fever, my boy,” said he. “Too much +excitement, I presume—but you’re out of danger now, and +will be on your feet again in a few days.”</p> + +<p>Fortunately the latter assurance was rightly spoken. The first +day that brought me strength enough to put on my clothes and walk +about the house, Mr. Earl invited me into the library to talk +business. We were no sooner seated than he unlocked a drawer and +handed me a document to read.</p> + +<p>It was a deed of all my father’s real and personal +property.</p> + +<p>“They have both confessed,” said he.</p> + +<p>“Confessed what?” I asked, wondering if the secret +of my father’s death had come out.</p> + +<p>“The conspiracy against your life. There were two +accomplices—one Count de Montalle, formerly a servant of +Cobb, and now a convict in America, and the other a man named +Fenlon, who is under arrest. These were the men who tried to take +your life. Fenlon came over on the steamer with you, I +believe.”</p> + +<p>“And my stepmother—where is she?”</p> + +<p>“Gone to answer for her sins at a higher court,” +said he. “Her last deposition is annexed to the deed. The old +hussy ran into the fire like a miller, and stood there screaming, +‘Look at that picture on the wall! Oh, God! do you see +it?’ she shouted to the fellow who found her standing in the +smoke and flames. The chap was so excited he really thought that he +did see the picture of a woman holding a knife.”</p> + +<p>“That is strange, isn’t it?” said I. +“Who was the man?”</p> + +<p>“A detective,” said he, “whom I hired to watch +the house that night. He heard some disturbance, it seems, and, +fearing mischief, he immediately forced the door open and ran +pell-mell into your cousin, noble fellow, who was then bringing you +down-stairs. If he had been one moment later the woman would have +been burned to death, and we would never have got this deposition. +Cobb wouldn’t have been the first to weaken, you may be sure +of that. But after she had told the whole story, why, there was no +use in holding out. Badly burned? No, strange to say, she was not +badly burned, but frightened out of her wits. The nervous shock was +too much for her and soon led to fatal results. Cobb will go to +prison.</p> + +<p>I made no reply. I could not have found words to express the +thoughts that came trooping through my brain.</p> + +<p>“I have to tell you,” he continued, “that your +cousin left a will bequeathing to you his father’s house and +a number of valuable paintings.”</p> + +<p>I turned away and burning tears of sorrow came to my eyes. It +was indeed a sad inheritance —the earthly part of his great +riches— and of little moment to me. I could not bear to think +or speak of it then, and I begged my friend to hide the will from +my sight until time might give me strength to read it with +composure.</p> + +<p>One evening in early spring Hester and I were walking along the +shore of the Mediterranean at Marseilles. I had been traveling +through southern Europe since my recovery, accompanied by Mr. and +Mrs. Earl. Hester had recently joined us in this ancient city of +Provence. The sun was sinking below the distant horizon of water, +and his shafts, glancing from the western edge of the sea, shot far +into the immeasurable reaches above us. We stood in silence while +the great wall of night loomed into the zenith, and then fell +westward through the luminous slope of heaven. The broad terrace +from which we viewed the scene was quite deserted.</p> + +<p>“If it is a hopeless love I cherish, let me know it now, +Hester,” I said as we turned to go. “I cannot wait any +longer.”</p> + +<p>“You can wait half an hour longer, I am sure,” she +said, hurrying me along. “We will be at home, +then.”</p> + +<p>Some months after Hester had become my wife we received a call +in London from our old friend, Mr. Murmurtot.</p> + +<p>“You have been playing in a great life drama,” said +he to Hester, “and I, too, have had a part in it. Lest you +may think that it was the fool’s part, let me tell you that I +am the man who arrested the Count de Montalle.”</p> + +<p>“And the man who brought Fenlon to justice?” I +asked.</p> + +<p>“The same. He confessed within three hours after you were +introduced to him.”</p> + +<p style="text-align:center">* * * * * * *</p> + +<p>Every week my wife and I visit Rayel’s grave and strew +fresh flowers upon it. A tall shaft of marble marks the spot where +he lies at rest. His name is graven in the stone, and underneath it +are these words: “He was a man without selfishness or +vanity.”</p> + +<p class="end">THE END.</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Master of Silence, by Irving Bacheller + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASTER OF SILENCE *** + +This file should be named mssln10h.htm or mssln10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, mssln11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, mssln10ah.htm + +This ebook was prepared by Jeffrey Kraus-yao. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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