THE PROBLEM CONTINUED
“Madame Juliette!” gasped Odd, staring with fixed astonishment at the
graceful, girlish figure before him.
“I thought I should astonish you, Doctor,” laughed Miss Gordon. “You
have never consulted her, I think?”
“Never. But there must be some mistake. We cannot be alluding to the
same person.”
“Oh, yes, we are.”
For a moment or two Owen remained silent, lost in doubt, and then
continued:
“The Madame Juliette I refer to is the woman who has taken all the West
End by storm by her wonderful exhibitions of clairvoyance and psychic
powers. Her rooms at 103A, Bond Street, are crowded daily by those who
go to consult her, and who come away in every case convinced of her
mysterious attributes. As I said, I have never been there myself, but
I know several who have, and they have given me a minute description
of what has taken place, and it certainly appears to me that she must
be gifted with some occult powers unknown to the generality of people.
The Madame Juliette I mean is undoubtedly a factor in London society of
to-day.”
“Really, Dr. Odd, you are giving me a most flattering character—one I
am afraid I hardly deserve,” said Miss Gordon with a smile.
“And you mean to tell me you are this person?”
“Without a doubt.”
“But, from the descriptions given me, she is stout, and
middle-aged—very unlike you, Miss Gordon,” continued Owen, still far
from being convinced. “And she poses as an Indian, and looks it—at
least, so my friends tell me.”
“Your friends appear to be close observers with graphic powers of
description, for they have painted a very true picture of me in my
professional guise.”
“You are not joking, Miss Gordon?” said Owen, with his eyes still fixed
on his companion’s face, for as yet he felt hardly able to believe
what he had just heard. The idea of this slim, graceful girl, with
the pink-and-white complexion of the Anglo-Saxon race, being able to
pose and take in the fashionable world as a dark-skinned, obese-bodied
Oriental, was more than he could momentarily grasp.
The smile on the girl’s face showed how she was enjoying his
perplexity, and she continued:
“I am afraid, doctor, you hardly grasp what can be done with judicious
padding, an artistic make-up, and suggestive surroundings. I can assure
you the native origin of Madame Juliette has never yet been questioned,
and all her clients are content to take her as they find her, and to
believe, more or less, in what she tells them.”
“Well, Miss Gordon, I can only say you astound me, and yet, if it is
necessary that you should make money, the _role_ you have selected is
probably as good as any other, providing—well, providing that——” And
here Owen stammered, for he hesitated to finish the sentence he had
commenced.
“Providing I am honest in my business, you intend to say—eh, doctor?”
“Yes, that is what was in my mind, I confess,” replied Owen.
“Naturally. It is the first idea that would occur to you, and I’m
glad you mentioned it. We have not known each other long, but when our
acquaintance is a little older, I am sure, doctor, you will not regard
me as a cheat and charlatan, as are so many of those who profess the
same powers as I do.”
“My dear Miss Gordon, don’t imagine for a moment that I am presuming to
judge you. I have not the faintest right or groundwork on which to do
so. You startled me at first, I admit, and this must be my excuse for
saying what I did.”
“Oh, I quite understand. But, you see, doctor, I spent a good many
years of my life in India, and as it happened, I had exceptional
opportunities of meeting and learning from one who was deeply versed in
the mysteries and secrets of—well, call it what you will, the science
of orientalism. It has been given to few to be favoured as I was, and
now, when occasion demands, I see no harm in putting my knowledge to
account.”
“Certainly not, Miss Gordon. I now begin to understand a little more
clearly.”
“The facts of the case are shortly these: my father was able to do a
kindness to a certain man in India, and he was much at our bungalow.
From the first he appeared to take a great fancy to me; I was but
a child at the time, and he endeavoured to show his gratitude by
instructing me in much that he knew himself, and is jealously guarded
from Europeans as a rule. This new path of knowledge took my youthful
fancy at once, and I gave more attention to it than I did to my
ordinary lessons. My memory is a good one, and I forgot nothing that
I was taught, and at the same time was ever eager to learn more. My
aptitude and diligence so pleased my teacher that there was no trouble
that he would not take to help me forward, till at last, I may say,
I knew nearly as much as he did himself, and even then he and I
continued to study together, for—like other sciences—there is no limit
to Oriental mysticism, and the more one learns the more there is to
know.”
“And I can quite understand that you found it a most fascinating study,
Miss Gordon.”
“I did indeed——But stop a moment, please; I think I hear my father
calling.” And as she rose from her chair Owen said:
“Really, Miss Gordon, I ought not to have detained you talking in this
way. I’ll be going.” And he, too, rose.
“No, doctor; if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes longer I should
like to tell you a little more, as I have commenced.”
While she was absent Owen could not help marvelling at the incidents of
the last hour and a half. Previous to that he had little to engage his
thoughts beyond his practice and the matters connected with his friend
Jervoise; and now, in answer to an apparently casual summons, he found
himself chatting familiarly with, and listening to the confession of,
a girl who, besides being dowered with a beauty such as he had never
before had the fortune to come across, was armed with powers that had
won her one of the first places in the talk and tattle of the West
End drawing-rooms. It was all so strange and inexplicable. And then
the curious fact flashed across him that he should have been summoned
when there were a score of doctors nearer to Plevna Gardens than his
surgery. Everything this evening seemed more or less of a mystery and
with a shrug of his shoulders he left the matter there, just as the
door opened to admit his hostess.
“You’ll forgive me, I know. My father has got into bed, and seems quite
comfortable and likely to sleep. He wished me to thank you for staying
with me for a little time, for he said he was sure I should be dull all
by myself.”
“Oh, don’t mention it, Miss Gordon. I have been far too interested to
want to go.”
“I must say you are an excellent listener, doctor. But what was I
saying when my father called? Oh, I know. Well, after a time my father
and mother and myself left India——”
“Your mother? I was not aware that——”
“She died some years ago,” said the girl in a saddened tone, and then
suddenly raising her eyes, she fixed them on Owen’s face with an
intensity that made him feel strangely ill at ease. He felt he could
not endure their penetrative power; it was as though she was viewing
his inmost thoughts, reading the secrets of his brain, and he dropped
his eyes till, with a faint sigh, she continued:
“We resided for a time in the West of England, and, when my father had
retired, came to London. Here, owing to financial misfortunes, our
circumstances were not as comfortable as they had been, and then it
was that the thought occurred to me to make use of the knowledge I had
gathered while a girl in India.”
“I had a little money of my own, and this I expended in taking and
fitting up in Oriental style a suite of rooms in Bond Street, and
in advertising pretty largely. At first my father was much against
my plan, and it was only on my undertaking to adopt a disguise that
he gave his consent. I was familiar with Hindustani, and it was no
difficulty to me to assume the character of a mysterious woman of the
East. Hence the appearance of Madame Juliette on the London stage.
And, Doctor Odd, you have no idea of the superstition, and love of
the mysterious and occult in the fashionable circles of to-day. It is
rampant, I assure you, and if I were to lower myself, and condescend to
tricks, my clients would swallow them without a grain of suspicion. But
that I will never do; I give them just what I am able to do honestly,
and no more, and with that they must be content.”
“And now I think I have fulfilled my promise to make a full confession,
and have only to thank you for listening to me so patiently.”
“My dear lady, the thanks are all due from me. You have interested me
more than I can tell you. Previous to this evening I regarded these
matters as pure humbug.”
“But they’re not, I can assure you, doctor. There is a certain amount
of humbug mixed up with them in some cases, but the true practitioners
would ignore such subterfuges. At times we do employ ‘suggestion’ as
an aid to bring the client’s mind into a proper condition, but beyond
this—no, no.”
“Oh, that is quite legitimate. We doctors are equally guilty in that
respect; indeed, ‘suggestion’ in some cases does more in effecting a
cure than all the drugs in the pharmacopœia could do. But there is one
thing I should like to ask you, Miss Gordon, if you will not think me
too inquisitive?”
“Oh, no, no. Ask me what you like.”
“Then what caused you to send for me this evening, when there were so
many doctors nearer you?”
“Doctor, you’ve asked me a question I cannot answer, beyond saying that
something told me to send. I had seen your name on the brass plate,
but, as far as I know, previous to this evening my eyes had never
rested on you; and yet——” And once more, as the words came to an end,
the eyes of the girl became fixed on the face of the man before her
with an intensity that was startling. But it was only for a second or
two, and then, as on the previous occasion, with a little sigh she
became herself again.
“It’s curious,” said Owen. “I don’t understand it.”
“No more do I,” replied the girl. “But in occultism there is much
that in our normal condition we are not able to grasp. But if I cannot
satisfy your curiosity in this respect, I may perhaps in another. Would
you like me to look at your hand.”
“By all means. It would be interesting.” And Owen drew his chair nearer
that of the girl, and held out his hand.
She took it gently in her own, and, bending over it, examined it
intently. For a time she did not speak, and then, almost in a whisper,
muttered something in a language unfamiliar to him, breaking off to
look up with a bright smile saying:
“Forgive me. I am so accustomed to this little trick of the trade, I
forgot you were in a sense behind the scenes, as it were. But do you
mind coming to the table; there is one point on which I am not quite
clear.” And while she spoke she moved across the room, and from a
cabinet took a shallow crystal dish, into which she poured some thick,
inky fluid from an Oriental clay vase, and set it on a table beneath
the electric light.
“Kindly sit opposite me, and gaze intently into the fluid. You will see
nothing, but it will be an aid to me.”
Owen did as he was bid, and for a few minutes there was silence, broken
at last by his companion’s voice:
“Your early life was uneventful and happy. You did fairly well at
school and college. You have travelled far, and seen strange sights.
You have been in the company of criminals—yes, yes—more than one; and
yet this is not clear. There is something that betokens a murder.
Still, I—no, it is not clear even now.”
At these words Owen gave a very palpable start as his suspicions of
his friend flashed across his mind. With an effort he pulled himself
together and his companion gave no sign of having observed his action,
but continued:
“It is not clear. It is not clear.” And, passing her hand across her
eyes, she rose, saying, “Doctor, I can do no more to-night. I ought
not to have attempted even this much. I have had a hard day; and my
father’s attack has tried me more than I thought. You must excuse me,
please.”
“Certainly—certainly. I’m sorry that I should have put you to this
trouble. It was very good of you.”
“You must not judge me by this evening, doctor. As I say, I’m not
myself, and under these circumstances I never do myself justice.”
“Oh, I don’t know. The first part was quite true, and as for the
criminals—well, I suppose we doctors do occasionally come in contact
with them. But the murder——” And Owen smiled, as though politely
contravening the suggestion.
“Ah, don’t take any notice of that. It was there I may have failed.
I could not see clearly; everything was indistinct. Forget my words,
doctor. It would have been better if I had remained silent. What? Must
you be going?”
“I really must, and am ashamed of having taken up so much of your time.
I’ll call in to-morrow morning, and after that I hope your father will
have no further need of my services.”
“I trust not—professionally; but I am sure he will always be pleased to
see you as a friend, when you can find time to look in on him. You see,
I’m obliged to be a good deal away from him. Good-night, and once more
let me thank you for what you have done.”
“Good-night, Miss Gordon, and please don’t mention it.” And Owen made
his way down the stairs and out into the night, while Amy Gordon
returned to the room they had just left, and, seating herself before
the fire, gave herself up to her thoughts. What they were none can
tell. At times a happy expression rested on her fair features, soon to
be chased away by a troubled look of perplexity, which in its turn gave
place to a smile.
Meanwhile Owen was making his way back, to his solitary rooms, almost
unconscious of those who passed him or of those he passed.
“Is it possible she can know anything?” he muttered. “It’s most
extraordinary! And yet—well, time will show.”