"Well, sir, is your continued silence part of the business of the role you have set yourself to play?"
His tone was firmer, and his bearing more in keeping with his character.
"If it be so, I presume that I, at least have liberty to speak. When I find a gentleman, even one gifted with your eloquence of silence, playing the part of burglar, I think you will grant that a few words on my part cannot justly be considered to be out of place."
Again he paused. I could not but feel that he was employing the vehicle of somewhat c.u.mbrous sarcasm to gain time, and to give himself the opportunity of recovering, if the thing was possible, his pristine courage. That, for some cause wholly hidden from me, the mysterious utterance had shaken his nature to its deepest foundations, was made plainer by his endeavour to treat the whole business with a sort of cynical levity.
"To commence with, may I ask if you have come through London, or through any portion of it, in that costume,-or, rather, in that want of costume? It would seem out of place in a Cairene street,- would it not?-even in the Rue de Rabagas,-was it not the Rue de Rabagas?"
He asked the question with an emphasis the meaning of which was wholly lost on me. What he referred to either then, or in what immediately followed, I, of course, knew no more than the man in the moon,-though I should probably have found great difficulty in convincing him of my ignorance.
"I take it that you are a reminiscence of the Rue de Rabagas,- that, of course;-is it not of course? The little house with the blue-grey Venetians, and the piano with the F sharp missing? Is there still the piano? with the tinny treble,-indeed, the whole atmosphere, was it not tinny?-You agree with me?-I have not forgotten. I am not even afraid to remember,-you perceive it?"
A new idea seemed to strike him,-born, perhaps, of my continued silence.
"You look English,-is it possible that you are not English? What are you then-French? We shall see!"
He addressed me in a tongue which I recognised as French, but with which I was not sufficiently acquainted to understand. Although, I flatter myself that,-as the present narrative should show-I have not made an ill-use of the opportunities which I have had to improve my, originally, modest education, I regret that I have never had so much as a ghost of a chance to acquire an even rudimentary knowledge of any language except my own. Recognising, I suppose, from my looks, that he was addressing me in a tongue to which I was a stranger, after a time he stopped, added something with a smile, and then began to talk to me in a lingo to which, in a manner of speaking, I was even stranger, for this time I had not the faintest notion what it was,-it might have been gibberish for all that I could tell. Quickly perceiving that he had succeeded no better than before, he returned to English.
"You do not know French?-nor the patois of the Rue de Rabagas? Very good,-then what is it that you do know? Are you under a vow of silence, or are you dumb,-except upon occasion? Your face is English,-what can be seen of it, and I will take it, therefore, that English spoken words convey some meaning to your brain. So listen, sir, to what I have to say,-do me the favour to listen carefully."
He was becoming more and more his former self. In his clear, modulated tones there was a ring of something like a threat,-a something which went very far beyond his words.
"You know something of a period which I choose to have forgotten, -that is plain; you come from a person who, probably, knows still more. Go back to that person and say that what I have forgotten I have forgotten; nothing will be gained by anyone by an endeavour to induce me to remember,-be very sure upon that point, say that nothing will be gained by anyone. That time was one of mirage, of delusion, of disease. I was in a condition, mentally and bodily, in which pranks could have been played upon me by any trickster. Such pranks were played. I know that now quite well. I do not pretend to be proficient in the modus operandi of the hankey- pankey man, but I know that he has a method, all the same,-one susceptible, too, of facile explanation. Go back to your friend, and tell him that I am not again likely to be made the b.u.t.t of his old method,-nor of his new one either.-You hear me, sir?"
I remained motionless and silent,-an att.i.tude which, plainly, he resented.
"Are you deaf and dumb? You certainly are not dumb, for you spoke to me just now. Be advised by me, and do not compel me to resort to measures which will be the cause to you of serious discomfort. -You hear me, sir?"
Still, from me, not a sign of comprehension,-to his increased annoyance.
"So be it. Keep your own counsel, if you choose. Yours will be the bitterness, not mine. You may play the lunatic, and play it excellently well, but that you do understand what is said to you is clear.-Come to business, sir. Give me that revolver, and the packet of letters which you have stolen from my desk."
He had been speaking with the air of one who desired to convince himself as much as me,-and about his last words there was almost a flavour of braggadocio. I remained unheeding.
"Are you going to do as I require, or are you insane enough to refuse?-in which case I shall summon a.s.sistance, and there will quickly be an end of it. Pray do not imagine that you can trick me into supposing that you do not grasp the situation. I know better.-Once more, are you going to give me that revolver and those letters?"
Yet no reply. His anger was growing momentarily greater,-and his agitation too. On my first introduction to Paul Lessingham I was not destined to discover in him any one of those qualities of which the world held him to be the undisputed possessor. He showed himself to be as unlike the statesman I had conceived, and esteemed, as he easily could have done.
"Do you think I stand in awe of you?-you!-of such a thing as you! Do as I tell you, or I myself will make you,-and, at the same time, teach you a much-needed lesson."
He raised his voice. In his bearing there was a would-be defiance. He might not have been aware of it, but the repet.i.tions of the threats were, in themselves, confessions of weakness. He came a step or two forward,-then, stopping short, began to tremble. The perspiration broke out upon his brow; he made spasmodic little dabs at it with his crumpled-up handkerchief. His eyes wandered hither and thither, as if searching for something which they feared to see yet were constrained to seek. He began to talk to himself, out loud, in odd disconnected sentences,-apparently ignoring me entirely.
"What was that?-It was nothing.-It was my imagination.-My nerves are out of order.-I have been working too hard.-I am not well.-WHAT"S THAT?"
This last inquiry came from him in a half-stifled shriek,-as the door opened to admit the head and body of an elderly man in a state of considerable undress. He had the tousled appearance of one who had been unexpectedly roused out of slumber, and unwillingly dragged from bed. Mr Lessingham stared at him as if he had been a ghost, while he stared back at Mr Lessingham as if he found a difficulty in crediting the evidence of his own eyes. It was he who broke the silence,-stutteringly.
"I am sure I beg your pardon, sir, but one of the maids thought that she heard the sound of a shot, and we came down to see if there was anything the matter,-I had no idea, sir, that you were here." His eyes travelled from Mr Lessingham towards me,-suddenly increasing, when they saw me, to about twice their previous size. "G.o.d save us!-who is that?"
The man"s self-evident cowardice possibly impressed Mr Lessingham with the conviction that he himself was not cutting the most dignified of figures. At any rate, he made a notable effort to, once more, a.s.sume a bearing of greater determination.
"You are quite right, Matthews, quite right. I am obliged by your watchfulness. At present you may leave the room-I propose to deal with this fellow myself,-only remain with the other men upon the landing, so that, if I call, you may come to my a.s.sistance."
Matthews did as he was told, he left the room,-with, I fancy, more rapidity than he had entered it. Mr Lessingham returned to me, his manner distinctly more determined, as if he found his resolution reinforced by the near neighbourhood of his retainers,
"Now, my man, you see how the case stands, at a word from me you will be overpowered and doomed to undergo a long period of imprisonment. Yet I am still willing to listen to the dictates of mercy. Put down that revolver, give me those letters,-you will not find me disposed to treat you hardly."
For all the attention I paid him, I might have been a graven image. He misunderstood, or pretended to misunderstand, the cause of my silence.
"Come, I see that you suppose my intentions to be harsher than they really are,-do not let us have a scandal, and a scene,-be sensible!-give me those letters!"
Again he moved in my direction; again, after he had taken a step or two, to stumble and stop, and look about him with frightened eyes; again to begin to mumble to himself aloud.
"It"s a conjurer"s trick!-Of course!-Nothing more,-What else could it be?-I"m not to be fooled.-I"m older than I was. I"ve been overdoing it,-that"s all."
Suddenly he broke into cries.
"Matthews! Matthews!-Help! help!"
Matthews entered the room, followed by three other men, younger than himself. Evidently all had slipped into the first articles of clothing they could lay their hands upon, and each carried a stick, or some similar rudimentary weapon.
Their master spurred them on.
"Strike the revolver out of his hand, Matthews!-knock him down!- take the letters from him!-don"t be afraid!-I"m not afraid!"
In proof of it, he rushed at me, as it seemed half blindly. As he did so I was constrained to shout out, in tones which I should not have recognised as mine,
"THE BEETLE!"
And that moment the room was all in darkness, and there were screams as of someone in an agony of terror or of pain. I felt that something had come into the room, I knew not whence nor how, -something of horror. And the next action of which I was conscious was, that under cover of the darkness, I was flying from the room, propelled by I knew not what.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MAN IN THE STREET
Whether anyone pursued I cannot say. I have some dim recollection, as I came out of the room, of women being huddled against the wall upon the landing, and of their screaming as I went past. But whether any effort was made to arrest my progress I cannot tell. My own impression is that not the slightest attempt to impede my headlong flight was made by anyone.
In what direction I was going I did not know. I was like a man flying through the phantasmagoric happenings of a dream, knowing neither how nor whither. I tore along what I suppose was a broad pa.s.sage, through a door at the end into what, I fancy, was a drawing-room. Across this room I dashed, helter-skelter, bringing down, in the gloom, unseen articles of furniture, with myself sometimes on top, and sometimes under them. In a trice, each time I fell, I was on my feet again,-until I went crashing against a window which was concealed by curtains. It would not have been strange had I crashed through it,-but I was spared that. Thrusting aside the curtains, I fumbled for the fastening of the window. It was a tall French cas.e.m.e.nt, extending, so far as I could judge, from floor to ceiling. When I had it open I stepped through it on to the verandah without,-to find that I was on the top of the portico which I had vainly essayed to ascend from below.
I tried the road down which I had tried up,-proceeding with a breakneck recklessness of which now I shudder to think. It was, probably, some thirty feet above the pavement, yet I rushed at the descent with as much disregard for the safety of life and limb as if it had been only three. Over the edge of the parapet I went, obtaining, with my naked feet, a precarious foothold on the latticework,-then down I commenced to scramble. I never did get a proper hold, and when I had descended, perhaps, rather more than half the distance-sc.r.a.ping, as it seemed to me, every sc.r.a.p of skin off my body in the process-I lost what little hold I had. Down to the bottom I went tumbling, rolling right across the pavement into the muddy road. It was a miracle I was not seriously injured,-but in that sense, certainly, that night the miracles were on my side. Hardly was I down, than I was up again,-mud and all.
Just as I was getting on to my feet I felt a firm hand grip me by the shoulder. Turning I found myself confronted by a tall, slenderly built man, with a long, drooping moustache, and an overcoat b.u.t.toned up to the chin, who held me with a grasp of steel. He looked at me,-and I looked back at him.
"After the ball,-eh?"
Even then I was struck by something pleasant in his voice, and some quality as of sunshine in his handsome face.