From that moment, whenever we were alone together, he made a target of
me. I never had supposed him humorously vindictive; he was, and his
apparently innocent mistakes almost turned my hair gray.
But to Miss Barrison he was kind and courteous, and for a time
over-serious. Observing him, I could never detect the slightest
symptom of dislike for her sex--a failing which common rumor had
always credited him with to the verge of absolute rudeness.
On the contrary, it was perfectly plain to anybody that he liked her.
There was in his manner towards her a mixture of business formality
and the deferential attitude of a gentleman.
We were seated, just before sunset, outside of the hut built of
palmetto logs, when Professor Farrago, addressing us both, began the
explanation of our future duties.
Miss Barrison, it appeared, was to note everything said by himself,
making several shorthand copies by evening. In other words, she was to
report every scrap of conversation she heard while in the Everglades.
And she nodded intelligently as he finished, and drew pad and pencil
from the pocket of her walking-skirt, jotting down his instructions as
a beginning. I could see that he was pleased.
"The reason I do this," he said, "is because I do not wish to hide
anything that transpires while we are on this expedition. Only the
most scrupulously minute record can satisfy me; no details are too
small to merit record; I demand and I court from my fellow-scientists
and from the public the fullest investigation."
He smiled slightly, turning towards me.
"You know, Mr. Gilland, how dangerous to the reputation of a
scientific man is any line of investigation into the unusual. If a man
once is even suspected of charlatanism, of sensationalism, of turning
his attention to any phenomena not strictly within the proper pale of
scientific investigation, that man is doomed to ridicule; his
profession disowns him; he becomes a man without honor, without
authority. Is it not so?"
"Yes," I said.
"Therefore," he resumed, thoughtfully, "as I do most firmly believe in
the course I am now pursuing, whether I succeed or fail I desire a
true and minute record made, hiding nothing of what may be said or
done. A stenographer alone can give this to the world, while I can
only supplement it with a description of events--if I live to
transcribe them."
Sunk in profound reverie he sat there silent under the great, smooth
palm-tree--a venerable figure in his yellow dressing-gown and carpet
slippers. Seated side by side, we waited, a trifle awed. I could hear
the soft breathing of the pretty stenographer beside me.
"First of all," said Professor Farrago, looking up, "I must be able to
trust those who are here to aid me."
"I--I will be faithful," said the girl, in a low voice.
"I do not doubt you, my child," he said; "nor you, Gilland. And so I
am going to tell you this much now--more, I hope, later."
And he sat up straight, lifting an impressive forefinger.
"Mr. Rowan, lately an officer of our Coast Survey, wrote me a letter
from the Holland House in New York--a letter so strange that, on
reading it, I immediately repaired to his hotel, where for hours we
talked together.
"The result of that conference is this expedition.
"I have now been here two months, and I am satisfied of certain facts.
First, there do exist in this unexplored wilderness certain forms of
life which are solid and palpable, but transparent and practically
invisible. Second, these living creatures belong to the animal
kingdom, are warm-blooded vertebrates, possess powers of locomotion,
but whether that of flight I am not certain. Third, they appear to
possess such senses as we enjoy--smell, touch, sight, hearing, and no
doubt the sense of taste. Fourth, their skin is smooth to the touch,
and the temperature of the epidermis appears to approximate that of a
normal human being. Fifth and last, whether bipeds or quadrupeds I do
not know, though all evidence appears to confirm my theory that they
walk erect. One pair of their limbs appear to terminate in a sort of
foot--like a delicately shaped human foot, except that there appear to
be no toes. The other pair of limbs terminate in something that, from
the single instance I experienced, seemed to resemble soft but firm
antennæ or, perhaps, digitated palpi--"
"Feelers!" I blurted out.
"I don't know, but I think so. Once, when I was standing in the
forest, perfectly aware that creatures I could not see had stealthily
surrounded me, the tension was brought to a crisis when over my face,
from cheek to chin, stole a soft something, brushing the skin as
delicately as a child's fingers might brush it."
"Good Lord!" I breathed.
A care-worn smile crept into his eyes. "A test for nerves, you think,
Mr. Gilland? I agree with you. Nobody fears what anybody can see."
There came the slightest movement beside me.
"Are you trembling?" I asked, turning.
"I was writing," she replied, steadily. "Did my elbow touch you?"
"By-the-way," said Professor Farrago, "I fear I forgot to congratulate
you upon your choice of a stenographer, Mr. Gilland."
A rosy light stole over her pale face.
"Am I to record that too?" she asked, raising her blue eyes.
"Certainly," he replied, gravely.
"But, professor," I began, a prey to increasing excitement, "do you
propose to attempt the capture of one of these animals?"
"That is what the cage is for," he said. "I supposed you had guessed
that."
"I had," murmured the pretty stenographer.
"I do not doubt it," said Professor Farrago, gravely.
"What are the chemicals for--and the tank and hose attachment?"
"Think, Mr. Gilland."
"I can't; I'm almost stunned by what you tell me."
He laughed. "The rosium oxide and salts of strontium are to be dumped
into the tank together. They'll effervesce, of course."
"Of course," I muttered.
"And I can throw a rose-colored spray over any object by the hose
attachment, can't I?"
"Yes."
"Well, I tried it on a transparent jelly-fish and it became perfectly
visible and of a beautiful rose-color: and I tried it on rock-crystal,
and on glass, and on pure gelatine, and all became suffused with a
delicate pink glow, which lasted for hours or minutes according to the
substance.... Now you understand, don't you?"
"Yes; you want to see what sort of creature you have to deal with."
"Exactly; so when I've trapped it I am going to spray it." He turned
half humorously towards the stenographer: "I fancy you understood long
before Mr. Gilland did."
"I don't think so," she said, with a sidelong lifting of the heavy
lashes; and I caught the color of her eyes for a second.
"You see how Miss Barrison spares your feelings," observed Professor
Farrago, dryly. "She owes you little gratitude for bringing her here,
yet she proves a generous victim."
"Oh, I am very grateful for this rarest of chances!" she said, shyly.
"To be among the first in the world to discover such wonders ought to
make me very grateful to the man who gave me the opportunity."
"Do you mean Mr. Gilland?" asked the professor, laughing.
I had never before seen Professor Farrago laugh such a care-free
laugh; I had never suspected him of harboring even an embryo of the
social graces. Dry as dust, sapless as steel, precise as the magnetic
needle, he had hitherto been to me the mummified embodiment of science
militant. Now, in the guise of a perfectly human and genial old
gentleman, I scarcely recognized my superior of the Bronx Park
society. And as a woman-hater he was a miserable failure.
"Heavens," I thought to myself, "am I becoming jealous of my revered
professor's social success with a stray stenographer?" I felt mean,
and I probably looked it, and I was glad that telepathy did not permit
Miss Barrison to record my secret and unworthy ruminations.
The professor was saying: "These transparent creatures break off
berries and fruits and branches; I have seen a flower, too, plucked
from its stem by invisible digits and borne swiftly through the
forest--only the flower visible, apparently speeding through the air
and out of sight among the thickets.
"I have found the footprints that I described to you, usually on the
edge of a stream or in the soft loam along some forest lake or lost
lagoon.
"Again and again I have been conscious in the forest that unseen eyes
were fixed on me, that unseen shapes were following me. Never but that
one time did these invisible creatures close in around me and venture
to touch me.
"They may be weak; their structure may be frail, and they may be
incapable of violence or harm, but the depth of the footprints
indicates a weight of at least one hundred and thirty pounds, and it
certainly requires some muscular strength to break off a branch of
wild guavas."
He bent his noble head, thoughtfully regarding the design on his
slippers.
"What was the rifle for?" I asked.
"Defence, not aggression," he said, simply.
"And the camera?"
"A camera record is necessary in these days of bad artists."
I hesitated, glancing at Miss Barrison. She was still writing, her
pretty head bent over the pad in her lap.
"And the clothing?" I asked, carelessly.
"Did you get it?" he demanded.
"Of course--" I glanced at Miss Barrison. "There's no use writing down
everything, is there?"
"Everything must be recorded," said Professor Farrago, inflexibly.
"What clothing did you buy?"
"I forgot the gown," I said, getting red about the ears.
"Forgot the gown!" he repeated.
"Yes--one kind of gown--the day kind. I--I got the other kind."
He was annoyed; so was I. After a moment he got up, and crossing to
the log cabin, opened one of the boxes of apparel.
"Is it what you wanted?" I inquired.
"Y-es, I presume so," he replied, visibly perplexed.
"It's the best to be had," said I.
"That's quite right," he said, musingly. "We use only the best of
everything at Bronx Park. It is traditional with us, you know."
Curiosity pushed me. "Well, what on earth is it for?" I broke out.
He looked at me gravely over the tops of his spectacles--a striking
and inspiring figure in his yellow flannel dressing-gown and
slippers.
"I shall tell you some day--perhaps," he said, mildly. "Good-night,
Miss Barrison; good-night, Mr. Gilland. You will find extra blankets
on your bunk--"
"What!" I cried.
"Bunks," he said, and shut the door.