I agreed, and sending the coachman home, we started together.

There is no time like night for walking, and as the south-west wind blew

softly against us, I felt as though it would have been pleasant to spend

hours in the open air. There was much that I wanted to say, but for a

few moments the delight of quiet night kept us both from speaking. At

last I broke the silence.

"Well, that was the most extraordinary experience," I remarked; "can you

throw any light upon it? Talk about the days of miracles being over!"

"The days of so-called miracles will never be over," replied my friend,

"till all have equal knowledge. A miracle is but a natural law, of

which most persons have hitherto been ignorant, brought into play at

length by one who is better informed than the majority."

"But you had nothing to do with the manifestation of to-night, had you?"

I asked.

"It was all my doing, with the exception of the first act, and even that

was ruled by my influence; but I will explain it to you, as by doing so

I shall save trouble later on. I told you that I had come to-night for

a reason, and that my object was an important one you may judge by my

using a power in public which I have seldom cared to exercise. No one,

however, suspects that I had anything to do with what happened beyond

being able to give them a little information; all the credit or

discredit will be with the performers at the table. Let me first

explain what I did, and then give you an idea of my motive.

"Before the ladies left us I exercised my will on Lady Folker and two

others to try table-turning that evening. It is a slightly dangerous

amusement that has recently revived; and is nothing else but a

convenient form of semi-mesmerism caused by the joining of hands. If,

which is unusual, no one tries to cheat or to fool the others present,

the persons will soon feel a tingling sensation in their arms and hands,

and lastly through their whole bodies; when the balance of will is

fairly even, nothing may happen for some time, but at last one

will-force must predominate the others, and quite unconsciously that

power influences all the rest, so that every hand moves by the order of

a semi-dormant will. Hence the moving and tilting of the table, the

message received, etc. Sometimes the motive-will, being partially

entranced, becomes a medium for the transmission of thoughts passing

through the mind of some absent friend, for under certain conditions

thought can be transferred, even as the sound of the voice through a

telephone; but this is too lengthy a matter to go into now.

"As a rule, however, one of the party being more susceptible than the

others, will before long become unconscious, or completely mesmerized.

This is, as you know, what happened to-night, and in this condition the

predominant will, whether the owner thereof be absent or present, gains

complete control, speaking through his or her voice, and in fact acting

the part of hypnotizer on a patient. Sometimes one of the party

present, and then another, will so act on the medium, and each one be

unconscious of doing so."

"I begin to see now," I said, "what happened. Your will acted on the

girl, and you made her do just what you wished. But how about the

skeleton?"

"You are mistaken," my friend answered, "and you forget about the

curtains going back of their own accord. I adopted a simpler method,

and one less harmful to the girl. Those at the table mesmerized her,

but I mesmerized all the others present; from the time the curtains had

been drawn till I myself threw them back not a single thing took place,

and the room was in silence with the exception of the shriek of horror

when I relaxed my power, and you saw, as you thought, the curtains fall

together."

"Do you mean to say that the girl had nothing to do with it, and that

she never moved?"

"She never stirred so much as a finger, but her condition assisted me in

a way that you will understand better when I explain the laws which

govern the transmission of will-force, for in her state what power she

possessed was added to my own."

"And you mean to say that during all this time we were staring like a

pack of fools at a blank curtain?" I demanded.

"I should hardly put it in that way myself," he replied. "It is true

that that is what your bodily eyes were doing to all appearances, but

your minds had a most impressive scene in front of them, which though it

reached them from a different channel than the eye, was none the less

vivid."

"But how did you convey the impression?" I asked.

"That," he replied, "requires what I fortunately possess, a vivid

imagination, and it was only necessary for me to call up the visions for

them to pass also before you; but it is exhausting work, as you will

find some day if you try it, for the mind must never wander for a

moment, and few people have learnt the art of perfect

self-concentration. It is also necessary that for the time being the

operator should be in a half-entranced state, or the pictures would be

meagre and unreal. This condition, which for the sake of convenience

may be called day-dreaming, requires much practice, but it is

nevertheless fairly easy to learn. I will before long show you the

method of acquiring the habit, so that you can judge for yourself of its

use."

"And now," I asked, "what was your motive for giving us such a terrible

experience? You succeeded in giving one young man, whose name I don't

know, such a scare that he will be some weeks before he gets over the

effects."

"I pray that he may never get over them," said Sydney. "If he should,

my work has failed. His name is William Jackson, and he is the only son

of the late Sir John Jackson. You may have heard of the father, as he

was fifteen years ago one of the most notorious and wealthy rakes in

London; in other words, having made a god of self, he had become a fiend

to others. Thus, as we carry our circumference with us, he raged at the

hell he created, whilst increasing its torments. It is only when we

fully realize the damnation of such lives that our hatred turns to pity.

Some whom I have known had good cause to hate his memory, as you will

hear in the story of my life. Too often have I in his case forgotten

that vengeance is not man's business, and that the law of retribution

never faileth. It is easy to forgive one who wrongs you, but how hard

when the injury is to one we love; when we see some weak loved spirit

driven further into the darkness, deeper into the thicket of pain, for

though we know that in the end, as Tennyson so finely expresses it,

'There shall be greater good because of evil, larger mercy through the

fall,' yet is the suffering present and it is hard to see those we love

in pain. William, however, takes far more after his mother than his

father. She is a good and noble woman, purified by suffering of which

she had in the latter days of her husband's life considerable

experience. It would be cruel not to try and save her from like misery

through her son, to whom she is devoted. He is a youth of good ability,

possessing even half-fledged genius; his nature is at present very

susceptible to kindness, and in many ways lovable, but he is cursed with

his father's passions, and should this get the upper hand, the finer

qualities of his disposition will drag him the more quickly down. If he

once came under the influence of a heartless animal nature, there would

practically be little hope of saving him."

"And one with that nature was there to-night?"

"Yes," he replied, "Miss Halcome is of all girls the least suited to be

his wife, yet he loved or fancied he loved her, and she has set her mind

on marrying him, though I believe she cares only for his wealth. But I

do not know that I should have interfered were it not that I possess

knowledge which makes the whole case most terrible. It is not fit that

any child should be born into the world cursed by a double descent from

such a man as Sir John Jackson."

"And are you certain that Miss Halcome is really his child?" I asked.

"Unfortunately I have too good reason to know," he replied; "but this is

where we part, and I have told you enough to throw some light upon this

evening; the rest of the explanation can be left till I reach that part

of my story where it would naturally come in."

*CHAPTER IV*

On the following evening, as soon as we had finished dinner, Sydney led

me, as on the previous occasion, through his study and into the library;

but we did not wait here, for going up to a curtain at one corner, he

pushed it aside, and opening a door led me into a room beyond. This

room did not seem to be lighted in any way from the outside, but an

electric light, the first I ever saw in a private house, cast a strong

glare over the apartment.

As soon as we entered, my companion touched a handle and a shade passed

over the light; the effect was pleasant and restful. Except in one

recess which was curtained off from the rest of the room, there were few

signs of comfort. I could not help fancying that I had suddenly entered

a scientific laboratory; the walls of the room were covered with

mechanical apparatus of various kinds, and with shelves that contained

rows of bottles, tubes, and other chemical appliances.

"This," said Sydney, "is my workshop, where for years I have been busy

trying experiments on nature by the assistance of knowledge gained

through the development of our sixth sense. There is no doubt whatever

that when men once begin to understand the uses of this latent power,

existence will be revolutionized entirely. The world as it is now will

cease to exist, and there will be a new heaven and a new earth. But,"

he continued after a pause, "I fear the time is not yet come; for so

awfully will man's power be increased, that unless our natures are at

the same time purified and perfected, existence here under such a

reversal of conditions would be in truth hell itself.

"Fortunately, however, the power of using this sense is greatly

dependent on the lives of the persons employing it. If a man has not

learned to curb his passions and keep his body under control, he will

make little progress, for the subjugation of the body is essential to

success. The weakness of my own nature has, alas! too often caused me

to break down at the very moment of seeming victory. If only a man were

perfectly unselfish, pure, and free from pride, he could without the aid

of science and without seeming effort control the forces of nature.

Such a One has been on earth, and we know the result. Such power may be

given when man has learnt to follow His example. But as man becomes

conscious of his new powers we may expect a terrible time of transition,

for with the possession of free will each added gift means added force

to evil as well as to good, even as I was saying last night with regard

to the gift of alcohol.

"People will soon find this out, if they have not already done so, with

regard to hypnotism. In the time that is coming no creed shall save a

man, for the wonders that shall be done on the earth shall deceive all

those who have not experienced the realization of things hoped for, the

evidence of things not seen; all those in fact who are not able to

distinguish truth from falsehood by the instinct of their own hearts.

It is doubtless for this reason that scientists have so long had their

eyes blinded. When the time shall come, and the people are ready, these

men shall lead, as they have ever led, the march of progress; yet they

must abandon pride if they hope to succeed.

"I perceive, however, that like many others, you are more anxious to

hear of the marvellous, or to see it, than to listen to the future

possible condition of things which probably will not take place in your

lifetime. If, therefore, you will lie down on the couch in that recess,

I will continue my story, though on a somewhat different plan from that

to which you are accustomed."

I lay down, and he drew the curtain that divided us from the rest of the

room, and sitting beside me, said,

"If I remember rightly, I left off last time when, having just recovered

from my first trance, I found Vera and Vancome standing over me. I felt

very little the worse for my experience, and seeing that I did not

appear likely to faint again, my companions went on their way to Heather

Lodge, leaving me to walk back home. During the evening I began to feel

nervous and distressed; a weight of anxiety seemed to be hanging over

me, none the less real because it was undefined. I went to bed early,

but instead of feeling better, the nervousness increased. On whatever

subject my thoughts turned, the unpleasant impression followed them,

haunting me and driving sleep far away. At last in despair I determined

on an experiment. I would try to think of nothing, and keep my eyes

steadily fixed on some imaginary spot just over my head. The room was

dark, but (as any one who has tried the experiment will know) if you

concentrate the eyes on one dark place for any length of time, that spot

will appear light. As I watched the light it revolved at first slowly,

and then with increasing rapidity. Though unknown to me at the time, the

method I had adopted is the simplest and easiest way of hypnotizing

oneself, and with a little patience most people could do it, for if the

light does not soon revolve it is easy to start it by moving the eye, as

it always follows; the great difficulty is to keep the mind from

wandering.

"When these revolutions had continued for some few moments, I became

about every alternate second, as it were, blind, seeing nothing, and my

mind also during the same period became a blank; then pictures

alternately flashed across the darkness, so rapidly that I could not

perfectly grasp them. But after a time I was able to see quite clearly,

and this is the picture which I saw."

Sydney stopped speaking, touched something, and the light was

extinguished; then as he placed his hand on mine, I found that I was

looking into a room which was lighted by a number of shaded candles. A

man of about thirty was standing with his back to a log fire, and a girl

was lying on a sofa near him. The girl was the same I had previously

recognized as Vera; the man I had little doubt was Lord Vancome. He was

speaking in a low tone, but every word was distinct.

"How cruel you are to me, Miss Soudin! The very softness of your voice

but adds to the bitterness of your words!" Then coming a little nearer

and speaking still lower; "Vera!--I must call you Vera, just to hear the

word--if you could but know for one moment what it is to be a man and to

see such loveliness, and yet not to be able to approach it; to have to

stand off and to be told that it belongs to another. If you could only

know, you would have pity before you send me from you for ever! How can

you be so cruel?"

"Oh, Lord Vancome!" said Vera, "I wish you would not talk like that; you

know I do not wish to be unkind, but you must remember I am engaged, and

it would be very wrong to let any one kiss me."

"Wrong! You dear innocent thing!" he answered; "how small is your

knowledge of the world! Do you think girls never let any but one man

kiss them? And what harm would it do? Do you fancy a kiss leaves any

mark behind that would betray us? No, the only mark will be upon my

life, a mark of brightness in the gloom!"

"Oh! but I really could not!" she replied; but even as she said the

words, her up-turned face, her eyes, her lips, denied them, and she knew

it; and the spirits of evil and of good knew it; and the man who stood

trembling with passion over her, knew and took advantage of it. As he

did so the scene vanished.

Sydney turned on the light, and then said--"That is what I saw; but what

I felt it is impossible to describe. The girl lying there listening to

the stage-learned sentimental drivel of a half-drunken blackguard--that

she could not see through it--that she was unable to distinguish the

laugh behind the scenes, or know that at some future date the details

exaggerated would be retailed to a club audience--that she should let

him even kiss her!

"I came-to from that trance little better than a madman, with one only

hope, that it might not be true; one determination to find out for

certain, and if so to be revenged--revenged on the man. My love for the

girl was unchanged, and I realized with something akin to horror that

nothing could alter it; that from the moment when I made my vow, her

fate and mine were woven together; and in this first vision of her

damnation I felt driven from the face of God, a thing accursed. I had

taken her sin upon me, as we must ever take the sins of those we truly

love; and I had then perhaps for the first time some faint idea of the

meaning of the word substitution, and could understand how one perfect

in love, and therefore perfect in holiness, must in a world like this

bear the sin and carry the sorrows of humanity.

"As every man born into the world becomes a unit, influenced by all that

preceded him and influencing all future life, so must each be a saviour

or destroyer through self-renunciation or through egotism. To One alone

can we give the title, the noblest and the grandest for us to conceive,

of the Saviour. He, who possessing fully the spirit of God's order and

of God's love, was ordained to reflect them once perfectly upon earth so

that He might show to the wanderers of all time the possibility of man's

nature, and the only path by which we may return to peace. Men waste

time in disputing if this Saviour was God. What know we of God but by

his attributes? Which of these attributes can we conceive bound down in

human form which was not manifest in the Christ? Could love exceed His

love, or meekness His humility, whose unselfishness asked no reward of

gratitude, and the exercise of whose power was ever restrained by the

hand of a far-seeing compassion? Is all we read true? Perhaps not; the

hand of imperfect devotion often, through want of insight, may have

touched and marred the picture, but the portrait remains, if somewhat

soiled through the fingers of adoration. On the other hand, if the

painter of our picture had no living model, a thing well nigh

impossible, then must he have been the Christ, for no soul can rise to a

sustained ideal beyond the possibility of his own nature.

"How wretched and partial a thing my love was, may be seen at once by

the bitter feeling of revenge that took possession of me. I fully

believe that at that moment I could have murdered my enemy in cold

blood. It is a humiliating reflection that there is virtually no crime

of which the best of us could not be guilty if the temptation were only

strong enough and the circumstances propitious.

"The next morning I walked to Heather Lodge, and asking to see Mr.

Soudin, was shown into his library. The old gentleman was sitting there

dressed for shooting, and did not seem very pleased to see me.

"'I must apologize,' I began, 'for coming up before the week is expired,

but I have good reason to believe that Lord Vancome is making love to

your daughter, and feel that it is impossible to let things go on as

they are. I must therefore ask you to release me from my promise and

allow me to have an interview with her at once.'

"I knew that to all appearance I was making a fool of myself, but being

desperate and unable to think of any better plan, I adopted the simplest

one of speaking the truth.

"'You must be mad, Mr. Sydney,' he replied. 'You insult, without any

possible grounds, both my daughter and my guest, and show yourself

unworthy of the position in my family which you wish to occupy.' Then

without speaking his thoughts continued--'_I hope he may be correct; if

so, that settles the business once for all, and I can get rid of him._'

"I felt so angry with the man before me that I lost all self-control.

'If you think that you can play fast and loose with me,' I answered,

'you are mistaken. I know your views perfectly well, and that you are

anxious that your daughter should, if possible, become Lady Vancome. If

you were told such a marriage would end miserably; that Lord Vancome is

thoroughly bad, it would not influence you. I will, therefore, keep

strictly to business, and for your daughter's sake give you information

which may possibly have some weight. Lord Vancome, never wealthy, is a

gambler, and, if report speaks truly, has nearly reached the end of his

resources. On the other hand, though it is not generally known, I have

an income of over twelve thousand pounds a year, derived from safe

investments. You can verify my statements without difficulty!'

"I saw my companion, when I came to the last part of my sentence,

metaphorically speaking, prick up his ears. He, however, sat a few

minutes silent, and I had to content myself with his thoughts, which

after all were far more important. And this is what I made of them--

"'_Twelve thousand pounds a year--safe securities--four per cent. at

most--three hundred thousand pounds capital--other fellow broke--wonder

if it's true--soon find out--getting tight myself---cannot live on a

broken Lord for son-in-law--good job, if it is true, I found it

out--must write at once to ... and make inquiries--wish this fellow was

broke and the other had his money--getting to hate Sydney--damned prig!

talking to me like that--what in the name of the devil am I to do?--the

beggar seems regularly to see into one!_'

"At this point I thought it well to keep up my advantage, so I said,

'That facts are as I stated, you can find out as soon as you please, but

one thing I wish you to understand; if I leave this house without an

opportunity of speaking to your daughter, when you have dismissed Lord

Vancome as unsuitable, you may find you have lost me also!'

"'Really, Mr. Sydney,' he replied, trying to force a smile, 'I am afraid

being in love does not agree with you; your nerves seem thoroughly upset

this morning. But I suppose we old people must put up with this kind of

thing, we were all young and foolish once. Many years ago I believe that

even I was jealous. There is, after all, no particular reason why you

should not see my daughter if you wish; but it is the tone you have

adopted which I object to. Money, my dear sir, money is a thing that,

where my child's happiness is at stake, would never cross my mind; it

must rest with her to decide, when she is a little older and knows her

own mind, what husband she will take. So long as he is a good man and

of gentle birth, I shall not interfere!'

"'Have I your permission, then,' I asked, 'to go and see her?'

"I saw he was about to consent when the thought crossed his mind that

very likely she was at the moment with Vancome, and he replied, getting

up, 'I will send her to you.'

"Soon after his departure Vera came into the room looking very pale and

nervous, and I saw that she was wondering what could have brought me up.

As I looked at her, my love, pity, and anger grew uncontrollable, and

entirely upset my mental balance.

"My animal nature got the upper hand, and I became, for the time being,

cruel. My very passion, as is often the case under such conditions, was

an incentive rather than a check, to that which, in the language of

hypocrisy, is termed 'religious anger,' but which is often little better

than the counter thrust of a wounded heart. I will, I thought, use my

power against this girl, and make her see herself even as she is.

"'Vera,' I began, 'I have got your father's permission to see you again

before the week is over. I find it impossible to keep away from you,

dearest, any longer. I want to hear from your lips once more that you

love me, and that you will be my wife.'

"'Why, of course I love you, dear,' she said, a look of relief coming

into her face as she came forward, evidently expecting that I should

take her in my arms and kiss her.

"I took both her hands in mine, and looked into the sweet face before

me. Was it possible that I might have been mistaken? That I was a

victim of delusion? As I stooped and kissed her forehead, I said--

"'Have you missed me much, dear? And did you find the hours hang

heavily?'

"'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'it has seemed such a long, long time. But

after all, you see, we have met once already. Have you quite got over

your fainting fit? Do you know that you don't look at all well. When I

came in I was quite afraid something had happened, you seemed so queer.'

"'What did you fancy could have happened?' I asked. 'Did you suppose

that in this short time I had fallen in love with some one else, and had

come to break the news to you? Now, tell me, are you jealous? Let us

hope not, because you know it would be unpleasant to have a jealous

wife. Should you be very angry if you knew that I had sometimes kissed

other girls?'

"'How can you be so horrid!' she answered, looking troubled and

perplexed. 'But you are only joking. Why, if you ever did such a thing,

I would never! never! never! speak to you again.'

"'Why?' I questioned. 'Do you think there is much harm in a simple

kiss? Do you fancy that men only kiss one woman in their lives?' I

stopped abruptly.

"She stood staring at me with a frightened look in her eyes, but whilst

I was watching she turned away; then her thoughts came quickly. '_Just

what he said about women--after all I did not kiss him. And how could I

help his kissing me? I wonder whether Alan knows any thing--Can he have

guessed? No, it is absurd! But somehow he frightens me, especially

when he looks in that queer way._'

"'Vera,' I said, 'sit down. I want to talk to you, to explain something

so that in future we may understand each other. You see you are going

to be my wife, and those who love should have as few secrets as

possible. Now I feel sure that you have something on your mind, and I

want you to tell it to me. Don't be afraid that I shall be angry.'

"'I don't know what you mean,' she answered. Her manner was half

defiant, half frightened.

"'Should you have wished me to be present, though unseen, in the

drawing-room last night, between ten and eleven?' I asked.

"She lost her presence of mind in a moment. A bright flush passed over

her face and left it deadly white.

"'How mean!' she cried. 'You were outside looking through the window.

I don't know what you think you saw. It is disgusting of you to have

done such a thing.'

"'I was in bed,' I replied.

"'Then what on earth do you mean?'

"'I mean this, that last night a gross insult was offered to one I love,

and that she accepted it, and what is more, accepted it willingly.'

"'Oh! I know you were looking. But I don't care if you did see, it was

not my fault. I tried to prevent him, but he would do it, and I hate

you now! Yes, I do! You are mean, and you tell lies!' Then she burst

into a flood of tears.

"'Vera,' I said, placing my arm round her, 'I have told you no lie. If

I tried to explain how I know all, yes, all that happened, far more than

could have been seen through any window, you would simply not understand

me. You say I spied upon you. How was it then that the shutters were

not closed, and the blinds and curtains drawn as usual?'

"'They were,' she replied. And then in the pause her thought continued.

'_I looked to see afterwards, and that is just what I can't understand.

Besides, he could not have been in the room either, for I examined

carefully after Vancome left, as I had an uncomfortable feeling at the

time that some one had been watching us._'

"'Cannot you understand,' I asked, 'that if we love a person very much

we may be conscious of what is happening to such a one, even though we

are not present?'

"'No,' she replied, 'I don't believe anything of the kind. You may

imagine things, or you may see them, or be told about them; but I won't

listen to another word. I hate you! and would not marry you now if you

were the only man on earth. I would rather marry Lord Vancome, so

there! And I will kiss him too, just to spite you, if for no other

reason. Whatever else he is, he is a man, and you are not! You are a

devil!'

"She got up, and before I could stop her, rushed out of the room. I

went to the window and looked out. In the distance I could see Soudin,

and Lord Vancome, with keepers and dogs starting for their day's

shooting. There was no fear of my being disturbed for some time, so I

sat down and reviewed the situation. Vera had defied me, and there

seemed little doubt that if left to herself, she would throw me over and

accept Vancome. That is to say, if he had any intention of going beyond

flirtation, which seemed doubtful. On the other hand, I felt satisfied

that when her father had verified my statements, I might fully rely on

having the paternal influence. The retreating figures of the two men

seemed to show conclusively that he already believed me; otherwise there

is little doubt that he would have seen me safely out of the house

before starting off for the day with my rival. I had therefore to

decide an important question. How far was I justified in influencing

this girl's will? Could I, in fact, excite a love which was not

spontaneously given? Should I not, in doing so, destroy the one thing

that gives to life an interest and meaning, namely, freedom of action,

without which man would be little better than an automaton?

"Whilst I sat thus musing over what may well seem to you a comparatively

trivial matter, a new light was cast upon the mystery of life, for as I

realized how unsatisfying such self-created love would be, I began to

see an interpretation which had not previously occurred to me in the

parable of man's fall. Was it not possible that the Creator of all

things, not fully satisfied with the loving obedience of those who

through their very nature were only able to do His bidding, decided to

create man, a being, who like Himself, should know by experience the

good of order, the evil of disorder, and therefore be capable of

discovering which path leads to pain, and which to happiness; one who in

the end should love him with the deep love that is a free offering of

the lesser nature to a greater which is akin to it?

"While thinking about these things it seemed clear, that if any man had

the power of partially influencing another's will, he must be careful

how it was employed. I began to wonder why it had been given to me, till

I remembered that after all it was but a developed form of that

influence which we see around us every day, and that the reception of

good, and the rejection of evil influence, is the necessary part of free

growth. As man therefore develops, we might naturally expect that he

would have to contend against stronger and more subtle forces. For

these reasons it seemed to me that we are as fully justified in using

any such powers, as we are in applying the more ordinary methods of

influence, provided that we do so unselfishly, and in no way permanently

overpower the general freedom of another. This latter restriction, as

you will see, is open to a very wide construction.

"I had, however, up to this time, seldom tried to exercise my will on

others, for though Descartes has given up a great part of his manuscript

to this subject, my time had been chiefly occupied in studying the

transmission of thought, which is, as it were, a first step to the

other. Until you can read the thoughts of those around you, it is

practically impossible to convey distinct impressions to another, unless

for the time being the person is in a trance condition, when it is

comparatively easy. The mind in this latter state being deprived of its

usual guiding forces, is peculiarly susceptible to any external

influence. It is probable that I should have been unsuccessful in the

attempt now made, had I not been working on one with whom I was already

familiar, and who was partially under my sway.

"I willed that she should come back to the room, having a strong desire

to tell me all that had happened on the previous evening, and the

feelings that had influenced her throughout. In a few minutes the door

opened and she entered; there was nothing in her appearance that would

have led any one to suppose she was acting under restraint, or had in

any way been mesmerized; her face was slightly flushed, and her eyes

showed traces of recent tears, but she was outwardly calm. Having

closed the door behind her, she came and stood before me.

"'Alan,' she said, 'I have been thinking that perhaps it will be better

to explain exactly what happened last night; you will then understand.'

"I said nothing, but continued to concentrate my will, urging her to

tell me all, not in the conventional manner of speech, but from her

soul.

"'I have, you see, a sort of liking,' she continued, 'for Lord Vancome,

a liking which is checked yet increased because I am afraid of him. I

don't understand the feeling, but it is nice to play with fire; as a

child I always loved to run my finger through the flame of a candle,

each time more slowly till at last it just burnt me a little; and then I

like, oh! you cannot know how I like to influence others!--to feel that

for the moment I can turn them this way or that; to realize that there

is some charm about me which holds them with a spell, and which they

cannot escape. If you could have seen his eyes last night as he

followed my every movement! I, only a country girl, and he a man used

to all the beautiful women of London. I do not love him, I do not love

you; in fact, I don't know what people mean by love, but I like people

to be attracted by me, and to make much of me; and--well, to lead them

on. Why should I not? Then he wanted to kiss me; he came nearer, I

refused to let him; I felt more frightened, but I liked the feeling;

would he or would he not? Then I looked up into his face in a way that I

felt sure would make him, intending all the while to refuse if he tried

to take advantage of that look. But he was too quick, and--and it was

nice to feel powerless, but it was not my fault, for I told him not to

do it.'

"'Vera,' I said, and my heart was very sad, 'can you not see, do you not

understand, that it is your will and not your words that matter? Men

and women are differently made, and the temptations of the latter come

chiefly from weakness and vanity; but tell me why it was you promised to

be my wife if you do not love me?'

"'Well,' she replied, 'I don't quite know; you see I don't love any one,

but I suppose I shall when we marry, and it would be nice to marry. It

would be lovely to have a wedding and presents, and to be made a lot of,

and to have people talking about me, and it's dreadfully dull at home;

besides, you are strong, and it is nice to feel that there is some one

to lean upon, some one to trust. But I hate you now, and I will tell

you why. You see into me, and I don't like it. I know you do, you see

my thoughts, and if when we are married I did anything which you would

not like, I should be afraid you might find it out. It would be better

to marry Lord Vancome, he is not a bit like that; though I would rather

trust you of the two in a difficulty.'

"I had become so interested in what she was saying that I had relaxed my

power over her, and was only reminded of the fact by her next remark.

"'I do not really know, Mr. Sydney, what induced me to come down and say

all this nonsense, for I have quite made up my mind, and it is no use

your asking me to reconsider the matter. After your insult I shall

never think of speaking to you again.'

"'I don't know that you have been asked to change your mind,' I replied,

altering my tone, and no longer striving in any way to affect her

judgment. 'You have wronged yourself, and would put the blame on me for

bringing the fact home to you. I can for the present think of nothing

to say, nothing to do; but remember, though you do not love me, I love

you, and love never changes; whatever may happen in the future, Vera, as

long as I live you will find me unchanged in two things---my desire for

your love, and my wish to help you.'

"'Thank you, Mr. Sydney,' she answered, making at the same time a little

mock curtsey; 'I do not think it at all likely that your valuable

assistance will be required, or that you will succeed in gaining my

love. Good-bye!'

"'Well,' I reflected, while walking back slowly over the moor, 'for one

possessed of exceptional powers it seems that I have made a pretty fair

mess of the whole thing.' And I began to understand how limited all

influence must be under such conditions. For, in the first place, I

wished for the love of a girl who was as yet incapable of understanding

the meaning of the word; and secondly, was trying to save a soul from

its own nature without destroying its freedom of action.

"I left Scotland on the following day and returned to my chambers in

London. Before doing so I wrote a note to Mr. Soudin saying that though

my feelings were still quite unchanged towards Vera, I felt it would be

better for both of us if we did not meet again just at present. I also

asked him in the event of his coming up to town, if he would call and

see me.

"In reply a most cordial letter arrived, saying that he expected to be

in London in the course of the following week, and that he would be sure

to call and look me up.

"When I had settled down once more in my own rooms, my thoughts turned

to Vancome. I hated him with a hatred that was almost madness. In

later life it is impossible to feel either the passions of love or

hatred as we feel them in our youth.

"I look back upon this period of my life with horror and contempt; but

it is none the less important that you should follow me through it, as

you will see what new temptations to evil every added power brings with

it. I determined, if Vancome had not already ruined himself completely,

to beggar him, flattering myself that in so doing I was but assisting

lagging Providence, getting out of the way a corrupt influence, making

myself an instrument of retribution to avenge the many whom he had

wronged. I set about my plan carefully and systematically, being aided

not a little by my increasing powers, and still more by an entire

disregard of expense. I very soon had a far more correct knowledge of

his affairs than he probably possessed himself, for few people in money

difficulties can bring themselves to face the unpleasant facts connected

with their position.

"When his father died he came into the title and property; the estate,

which was not entailed, had been heavily mortgaged, and since then every

year the burden had been increasing until it was very doubtful if at the

present time a forced sale of the property would cover his liabilities.

The mortgagees were pressing for a large sum of interest overdue, and

Vancome's solicitors had done all in their power to raise this money,

but as yet without success. I therefore called on a firm of rather

second-rate bill discounters, and had an interview with Mr. Marsden, the

senior partner, who had some interest in the mortgage.

"I have always adopted one method in dealing with business men, which

has proved on the whole successful. I will endeavour to describe it to

you briefly, as it may be of service. Each man's honesty lies on a

certain plane, and the types can for convenience be classified under

four heads.

"No. 1, which is rarely met with, may be called the natural inclination

level.

"No. 2, the advantageous moral level, which, except under severe

temptations, it is equally safe to trust.

"No. 3, the reflecting level.

"No. 4, the fear of detection level.

"More men set their honesty down on No. 3 platform than on all the rest

put together, and as Mr. Marsden was among the majority, it will be as

well, therefore, to explain more fully what is meant by the definition.

"This type is honest or dishonest simply through the way it is

approached. If you go to it in a meek and quiet spirit, carrying all

the guilelessness of your nature on your head, and all your cunning

wrapped in a napkin, it will meet you frankly, treat you moderately

fairly, and protect you with almost tender solicitude from the jaws of

any of the No. 4 type. This way of approach is, moreover, safest in

dealing with all business men, for if you come on one by mistake whose

honesty is altogether absent, such method will incite to greed, and your

wolf will be less careful to keep on his sheep-skin.

"I learned this lesson when quite a youth from the relation who has

since left me a great part of his fortune. He was one of the most

successful men in London, and when I asked if he would tell me the

secret of his power, he replied in his queer and enigmatical way--'I

have sucked in knowledge through every pore, and studied men always from

behind the mask of stupidity; those who wish to be thought wise must be

content to remain fools; for in the light of seeming wisdom, the bats

hang head downwards in their safe retreat indistinguishable from the

dirt around; but they flutter in the dull face of stupidity, and may

easily be knocked down and trampled upon. Nevertheless,' he continued,

winking at me, 'it is good sport sometimes to cast off the veil, and to

give these people a taste of your power; then the poor wretches will go

away blubbering that you have hurt them, and the world, knowing how

stupid you are, will say that you must have been mad.'

"Thus I went, carrying a helpless expression, to Mr. Marsden, and

letting him know that I was very wealthy, and at the same time anxious

to acquire the whole of Lord Vancome's property, I threw myself upon his

world-wide knowledge, and asked his advice.

"'I am delighted, Mr. Sydney, that you should have come to me,' he said,

rubbing his hands. 'There is fate in it; had you gone elsewhere, a large

price might have been asked. With my information, and if you leave

yourself in my hands, we can secure a bargain for you, a real bargain.'

Here he dropped his voice as if imparting a great secret. 'Lord Vancome

is pressed for money, and the mortgagees are threatening to foreclose.'

(All this of course I knew, but I thought it better to appear ignorant.)

'We must advance money--we must get his bills--press for

payment--threaten bankruptcy--pay off mortgagees--take estates.'

"I besought him not to trouble me with details, but whilst keeping my

name from appearing in the matter, act as he thought best. My

solicitors, I told him, would supply whatever funds were required. Then

once more calling his attention to the fact that I was entirely at his

mercy, and having read in his thoughts various ways by which he intended

to profit by the transaction, without fleecing me beyond the limit of

his conscience, I went away satisfied.

"On entering my rooms after this interview, I found Mr. Soudin waiting

to see me. He appeared in good spirits; told me he had been in London

the last three days; and I perceived from his thoughts, that he had

found out all he wished to know, and had quite decided to accept me as

his future son-in-law. It was just as well that he could not see into my

mind as clearly, for I had also discovered that he was in even worse

difficulties than Lord Vancome. Not contented with a comfortable income,

he had put some of his capital into an unlimited bank, which, if my

information proved correct, was about to fail.

"He seemed anxious for me to return with him to Scotland, and his wishes

evidently inclined towards an early marriage. Moreover, he suggested

the advisability of having the engagement publicly announced in the

papers. At this point it seemed necessary to inform him that at my last

interview with his daughter, we had quarrelled, though I did not mention

the cause; at the same time I told him that if Vera was willing, I had

not the slightest objection to his making our engagement public. He

pooh-poohed the idea of any objection coming from this quarter,

declaring that his daughter was devoted to me, and took his departure,

saying he would write to her and settle everything.

"The door had scarcely closed behind him, when a deadly faintness began

to steal over me. With some difficulty I managed to get into my

bed-room, and had hardly thrown myself on the bed before I lost

consciousness."

My companion paused for a moment.

"I have at last brought you to the point of my narrative," he continued,

rising, "where the chief interest may be said to begin. It has seemed

best to touch on many points which may have appeared of little or no

importance, and to leave out a few which you might have considered more

interesting. It is a far more difficult matter than you can well

understand, to deal in an intelligible manner with the forces brought

into play through an unrecognized sense; especially as we have at

present no names either for its effect upon the mind, or for the

subjects of which, through the medium of its power, we are for the first

time conscious. I propose, therefore, before continuing my story, to

show you a few experiments, and to throw as much light as possible on

the remarkable changes in our whole life, which a perfect knowledge of

this sixth sense would bring about."

"First," he continued, throwing back the curtain, "you, in your

condition, are permanently tied to what we call the body, and bound down

to its limitation. You can see only by the aid of light, and your

vision cannot pass through what we call opaque substances. The reason

why the animal eye is thus constructed must be obvious. Had it been

formed in such a way as to enable it to focus only on the object it

wished to observe, and were able to disregard any material obstruction

which lay in the way, an animal would dash into the intervening

material, even as a bird strikes itself against a clear sheet of glass.

"It was doubtless for this reason that nature mercifully deals but

seldom in transparent solids, allowing the eye only to penetrate matter

in its liquid or gaseous forms. But you must not for a moment suppose

that there is anything more miraculous in a vision which is constructed

in such a way that it can reverse the process, one form being as easily

developed as the other. Moreover, what we call solid, is only the term

for describing matter which in its present condition resists the

pressure of other material bodies to a certain extent. For as we know,

heat, electricity, sound, etc., can pass even through steel.

"Now, if you will come this way, I will show you an instrument which was

perfected by me some years ago, but which I no longer require to use; it

may possibly explain my meaning more fully.

"Here," said Sydney, pointing to a small instrument which looked like a

very delicate binocular telescope, "is an invention of lenses which

neutralizes the effect of the greater part of the services of the eye on

the brain. It is very imperfect, but it will do as an example. I will

focus it at twenty yards from here, and turn it in this direction. Now

what can you see?"

I looked through, and saw a servant in the dining-room removing some of

the things off the table.

"That is a wonderful invention," I said. "Why have you never made it

known?"

"Can you ask?" he replied. "Just fancy what misery such power would

cause in our present condition; what temptation it would be to evil;

what an aid it might give to cruelty. But I do not fancy it will ever

be required, for as soon as a man is fit to use the power, he will not

require the aid of any instrument. The powers of vision are slowly

changing from generation to generation, in the direction here indicated.

It is the same with regard to hearing. Ask any man who is acquainted

with the roar of London, if it strikes with the sense of confusing

sound. No, he is capable quite unconsciously of listening to a whisper,

or some soft strain of music, and being quite oblivious to the uproar

going on around. If we for one moment were able to hear, as people

fancy they do, all sounds in proportion to their magnitude, we should

that instant be struck deaf by the thunder of universal movement, the

tumult of unceasing vibration. But we hear only just as much as our

natures are fitted to make use of. With the aid of the sixth sense, we

hear just as much or just as little as we will."

He led me to another instrument. "Put your ear to that," he said. "It

is not a telephone, but it answers the purpose far better. Now

concentrate your thought on some distant sound you would like to hear."

I thought of my own hall clock, which has a peculiar, solemn,

old-fashioned tick. I could hear it distinctly, and even now there came

the familiar rattling sound, then slowly it chimed a quarter past

eleven.

"Try again," my companion said.

I thought of my cottage by the sea, and wished to hear the waves on the

beach as I hear them from my bedroom window. I listened, but could

distinguish nothing.

"There is no sound this time," I said.

"It is low tide," he replied, "and the sea is calm. You must will to be

upon the sand."

I did so, and in a moment the little wavelets seemed tumbling over my

feet, splashing and trickling back over the sand. It seemed impossible

that I could be thirty miles from the sea, and nearly a hundred from

that sandy beach; for the sea on nearly all our southern coasts,

breaking as it does on shingle, can give forth no such sweet sounds as

these.

*CHAPTER V*

In this way Alan Sydney gave me an idea of the limitations of our

present sense-organs, and how, by superior knowledge, they may be

altered and varied. I was able to feel things at a distance that I did

not touch, and touch things near me without being able to feel them.

"It is curious," he said to me at last, when he had been showing some

rather singular experiments with regard to perfumes, "that the sense of

smell has been allowed to die out so much through lack of cultivation.

I once taught a person to read quite easily by various scents. I made

an alphabet first of all, which he soon learned, and then by arranging

the perfumes in order he soon was able to read by this means quite

easily. But there is a still more curious fact that, notwithstanding

our present scientific knowledge, people talk of having five senses,

even as I have done to you for fear of confusing matters, for there is

no such thing as the sense of taste."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Taste," he replied, "is simply the combined effect of two senses, touch

and smell. If a person loses his sense of smelling he can only taste by

feeling; he can detect oil from water, or alcohol from vinegar, sugar

from lemon, through the effect that any of these substances have on the

more delicate nerves of feeling which are connected with the palate.

But we will not waste time in discussing the matter. A few experiments

will prove it to any one who is doubtful. I only mention it to show why

I had not referred to taste as a means of perception."

He then took me to that part of the room fitted up as a chemical

laboratory.

"Now," he said, "I am going to show you some experiments that will

surprise you far more than anything which you have seen hitherto. But

as I do not wish you to look upon them from the marvellous side, it will

be well to explain some of the reasons why quite natural causes may lead

apparently to miraculous results. For instance, you look upon your body

as an inseparable condition of life upon earth. It is even a question

whether you do not really regard it as an essential part of yourself

instead of seeing it is nothing more important than a suit of clothes

well fitting and adapted to the present conditions and circumstances of

your spirit. This latter view, though professed by most people, is but

seldom really believed in. From the lowest to the highest every body is

formed in one way; the life, or spirit, by its force of attraction

drawing certain material elements to its aid for the purpose of growth

and development. As the spirit thus grows and develops, its needs, and

consequently its outward shape, alter. These elements, so gathered, we

call our bodies, and it is as easy to cast off these bodies and put them

on again as it is to take off or replace our clothes. If, however, the

experiment is tried with an imperfect knowledge it is attended with

great danger, probably with what we call loss of life. I will, however,

show you an experiment on an animal."

He whistled, and a small bird that I had not noticed, flew down from the

top of one of the cupboards and settled on his shoulder. It was a tame

robin. As my companion poured out a number of liquids from various

bottles into a glass dish, he told me that he had tamed it about six

months ago, and that it lived chiefly out of doors and found its own

food, but that it now nearly always slept in one of the rooms.

Taking it in his hands, he said--"As soon as its development in this

form is complete, it will die. If the body is injured in such a way as

to make it useless, it will find another; but there is a way of

temporarily causing a life to become dormant. If during that time I

dissolve the body into its gaseous particles, the life, on awaking to

consciousness, will draw these particles back into their previous

shape."

Whilst he was speaking he softly stroked the bird, and its head fell

back. When the little thing was mesmerized he laid it down, a heap of

ruffled feathers, beside the bowl.

"That condition of trance will last one minute," he said, as he placed

the body in the bowl.

A slight vapour rose from the liquid, and in a moment all sign of the

bird had disappeared. I looked into the pure watery fluid, but could

see nothing left there.

"It is over there," he said; pointing to the shelf above me, and there

the robin, without any sign of injury, stood pluming its feathers.

"I have shown you this," he continued, "not to convince you of the truth

of what I was saying, for of course any second-rate conjuror could

apparently bring about a similar result; but because this illustrates an

important law of nature, viz. that life, which is indestructible, is

everything, and the body merely a temporary convenience."

"But," I said, "do you mean to tell me that the life of a bird is

eternal?"

"Everything is eternal," he replied, "and everything is slowly

progressing towards perfection."

"Yet," I answered, "do you really think that heaven will be full of the

spirits of dead birds?"

He sat down and laughed. "For a reasonable man," he said, "you have

some of the most extraordinary, childlike views; but I ought not to

laugh, for after all how little do any of us know; but I will tell you

what I think.

"From the lowest life in the flower to the highest created spirit in the

universe, there is one law of growth; life meets life, uniting and

strengthening. As one atom joining apparently with others becomes what

we call a molecule, and these molecules continue to unite and form new

substances, even thus do lives join and mingle to form more perfect

life."

"Why," I exclaimed, "do you mean to say that my life is but the

amalgamation of countless other lives?"

"You do not," he replied, "express it quite in the way I should; but you

seem to understand me. What we call attraction, fascination, and love

are the forces that draw the kindred elements together, and Swedenborg

was, I fancy, not far wrong when he said, 'That the man and woman

spirits become one angel in death;' so will that angel also doubtless

meet another kindred spirit and unite. Fancy if we could look behind us

and see the millions of gathered lives that form our own. Truly no man

can harm another without stabbing himself, for the whole creation

groaneth and travaileth in pain together, waiting for the redemption of

the body. If," he continued, "you have never seen things in this light

before, go and read your Bible; it is all there though veiled in parable

from the eyes not ready yet to see: listen to the inspired words of men

in all ages, and of all centuries; they point to the same end: study

science, each new discovery is a continual verification of the eternity

of all things, and of continued progress through unity to power. But

come, let us return to the subject before us, so that I may get back as

soon as possible to my story. You do not mind spending the night here,

do you?"

I replied that I would rather spend it there than in bed, and he

continued--

"These chemical and mechanical appliances have as little interest to me

as the books in the adjoining room, for they were but stepping-stones

across a difficulty. I soon discovered that as my spiritual sense grew

and strengthened through use, what we term material aids became

unnecessary, and even a hindrance. It is well, however, that they were

not destroyed, for they may be useful as lesson books to you."

"Do you think," I asked, "that I shall ever attain to any of your

power?"

"No," he replied, "not in this life; perhaps in the next. You have, to

begin with, not sufficient of the feminine element in your character;

and, moreover, you have neither the youth nor the bodily strength to

make it safe for you to try. You would either die or become insane in

the attempt. The strain upon both mind and body in such a work as this

is terrible; and the cause of my success has been owing chiefly to the

careful following out of Descartes' instructions. He says, 'I have been

unable to verify my theory owing to bodily weakness. A man who wishes

to succeed must be strong, and in the flower of youth, but let him

beware of neglecting the body while he is developing his powers. A

diseased body can never be trusted, it tricks the mind, makes it more

difficult to distinguish falsehood from truth, and will even be the

cause of illusions fatal to success.'

"The plan I adopted from the first, was this; the moment my study was

engrossing me too completely, or there was any sign of mental strain, I

threw up the occupation, and instead of being idle, set my body at work.

I found riding the best of all pursuits, it exhausted me less than

walking, and at the same time freed my thoughts more completely.

Hunting, as you know, I have never neglected, and after days of work I

have found in the hunting-field new life. I often start jaded and worn

out, with the animal in me groaning and gnashing its teeth; a little

more and it would turn and rend me. I let it loose, it feels the cool

air, the soft and pleasant movement of the horse, which is its willing

servant. At sight of the hounds a trembling joy passes through both my

body and the beast; they rejoice and are glad, they feel the icy wind

dash by as the welcome cry of a find wakens them to their true life.

The danger of which my mind is dreamily conscious, stimulates them like

new wine, the sweat pours down, and carries the venom from their blood.

Hour after hour my body revels in delight; what folly it perpetrates so

as not to be out-distanced; how it plays with me, rules me, laughs at my

fears, and comes back after perhaps nine hours, like a tired dog, happy

and obedient, ready for its food and its kennel! For days after such a

treat it is my servant, faithful, refreshed, and purified. The mind

takes it in hand, sucks out its renewed strength, and rejoices.

"The man who shall dare to do what I have done, must fight thus, with,

not against, his body; must let it rule him at times, so that he may

rule it more completely. The reason why Britain keeps her greatness, is

owing more to her sportsmen than to her merchants, statesmen,

philosophers, or divines. But let us go and rest; I will send you to

sleep, and you shall see as in your dreams what I saw lying insensible

after Mr. Soudin left me in my room. It will save me the trouble of

talking, and at the same time be more interesting to you. But before

doing so, I will ring for some coffee."

Saying this he touched a bell, and in two or three minutes went to one

of the panels, slipped it aside, and brought out a tray of refreshments.

"I do not care," he said, "to let any one come in here, so I have a

lift, and if I wish to stop in this part of the house all day I can do

so undisturbed."

When we had finished our coffee, we both lay down on the couches in the

recess, and the following scenes came to me while resting.

The first picture was very beautiful. I looked out into a bright

moonlight night; some fleecy clouds were hanging across the sky, seen

through trees that were now nearly bare of foliage. There was a

pleasant sound of wind passing over the forest; the rustling of withered

leaves. I stood close by a footpath, and could hear steps approaching;

the crack of some withered branch trodden underfoot, the rustling of a

dress, the whispering of voices. In another moment two figures became

indistinctly visible; they were coming toward me. As they approached I

caught part of their conversation. The girl was speaking.

"I don't like it at all," she said; "I am frightened. Why could not we

be married in the ordinary way? It is horrid not having a proper

wedding."

"But, dearest," the man answered, "you see it is impossible. Your

father, you say, has told you that he will not hear of your marrying me

because he has got into his mind that I am poor, and he insists on your

marrying that fool Sydney, whom he thinks to be as rich as Croesus."

"But," questioned the girl, "could we not try to get his consent? Could

you not convince him that after all you are well off? I am sure he

would rather I married a lord, if only he did not think you were quite

poor. Besides, as he is rich, it would not really matter very much."

"It will be much easier, darling, to bring him round after the wedding,

when he sees there is no help for it. He will be as right as possible

when once it is all over, and I introduce his daughter to him as Lady

Vancome."

They were passing as he spoke, but it caused me no feeling of surprise

that as they came near they took no notice of me. I was conscious that

though present I was invisible, and though a witness, powerless to act.

I recognized them before they came near, and thought Vera's face more

ethereally lovely seen in this pale moonlight than it seemed possible

for an earthly face to be. The lower and weaker feature were in shadow,

the eyes that looked up to her companion were ennobled by a sadness

which added to their depth.

Vancome, who had his arm round the girl, was evidently somewhat

agitated. Cowardice and weakness were expressed in every feature. He

was more what people used to call handsome, than what in the present day

would be considered worthy of admiration.

The girl looked round into the wood, and visibly trembling, said--"I

don't like it at all. Suppose some one were to see us at the station,

what would they think? Oh, Frank, let us go back."

She stopped just opposite where I stood, and looking straight through

me, cried--"It is horrible here! There is something there!" And she

stretched out her arm and pointed to where I stood, and her hand seemed

to go into my heart and cut me as though her outstretched finger had

been a poignard.

The man turned, and they both stood facing me. "Don't be foolish!" he

said, looking, however, somewhat scared. "There is nothing but a light

patch where the moonlight falls through the opening in the trees."

"I thought for a moment," the girl replied, "that Alan Sydney was

standing quite close to us."

Vancome laughed. "I fancied you meant a ghost," he replied. "It would

be a new experience to see the spirit of a living man, who probably at

the same time is enjoying himself behind the scenes of some London

theatre. Take my word for it, Sydney's spirit is not likely to forsake

the limelight goddess to come wandering after the moonlight one. But we

shall miss our train if you stand looking for ghosts, and it will not

take us long now to get out of this wood if we walk quickly."

As they passed the girl said--"You are quite sure we shall have no

difficulty about the licence when we get to Liverpool?" But the man's

reply was lost in the distance, and the scene vanished.

Then there was, as it seemed, a long pause of darkness, till all of a

sudden I found myself in a brightly lighted room alone. I went to the

window and looked out upon a big city; the church clock struck the hour

of eight, and the streets were full of clerks and workpeople, evidently

on their way to business; a newsboy was shouting out,

"Post!"--"Mercury!"

While standing thus wondering, the door behind me opened, and some

persons entered the room. I tried to turn round and look at them, but

could not. The man, whom I recognized by his voice as Vancome,

said---"Yes, this will do very well, get some breakfast for two as soon

as possible. We shall not stop the night, as we leave this evening by

the nine o'clock boat for America."

While listening to these words I became conscious that I was asleep, and

that for some reason it was most important for me to get up at once. I

struggled to open my eyes, to turn, or do anything to rouse myself. At

last with a desperate effort I struck out my arm, and hitting it smartly

against some object, awoke.

"Well," said Sydney, "as we have had some rest, I will go on with my

story. You have just seen what passed whilst I lay unconscious in my

room; and it was a little after eight on the following morning that I

awoke with an effort similar to that which you have just experienced,

only of course the scenes affected me far more than they did you; and I

roused myself with the distinct intention of hastening to Liverpool, and

trying if possible to rescue the girl.

"While in the act of giving instructions for my things to be packed up,

Mr. Soudin in a great state of excitement dashed into the room. He had

just had a telegram from his wife, saying that Vera had on the afternoon

of the previous day walked over to see some friends. The carriage had

been sent to fetch her, but the coachman brought back word that she had

started to walk home about seven o'clock; and since that nothing had

been seen or heard of her.

"'I am going to the north at once,' he said. 'Will you come and help?'

"I replied that though anxious to help, I expected to be of more service

in taking steps independently.

"He tried to persuade me to alter my determination, but seeing that I

was fixed upon it, left to catch his train.

"'It is possible,' I said, 'that you may see Vera back to-morrow about

this time; and if she comes, deal kindly with her, and remember that

nothing which has happened will make any difference to my intentions.'

"'I believe,' he replied, 'either that you are mad, or know something of

this.'

"'I may be mad,' I answered, 'but don't forget.'

"I arrived at Liverpool later than I expected, and having no knowledge

of the town, thought it would be safer to discover which boat started at

nine, and watch that rather than risk hunting for the hotel. I,

however, drove first to the house of a friend of mine, Mrs. Freshfield,

who lived at Woolton, a suburb a few miles outside the city. I briefly

explained my position, also that of the girl, and her kindly heart was

soon roused to help me if possible.

"'Why don't you communicate with the police?' she said.

"'I shall,' I replied, 'as a last resource, but hope to be able to work

without their assistance, so as to avoid making any scandal.'

"She was also very anxious to know how the plot had been discovered,

but, not wishing to tell her, I excused myself on the ground of time,

and receiving her promise to wait for me at a certain place near the

docks from eight to nine, I left, and hurried back to the city to

complete my arrangements.

"It was now past five, and already growing dusk, as I went to a private

detective office, and requested to see the chief officer. When told

briefly the facts of the case, he seemed very doubtful whether the law

could help me if the girl was leaving of her own will.

"I replied that if so the law was iniquitous, which he seemed to think

very probable; at the same time the fact did not help us. But when I

pointed out that this was a case in which money was of no consequence,

and that if it should cost L5000 it must be done, he immediately altered

his tone.

"'You have come to the right place,' he said, his face visibly

brightening, 'for we act for the public, not for the Government, and

money can do pretty well anything. Are you prepared to swear, if

necessary, to an indictable offence against this man?'

"I told him I would swear anything rather than that harm should happen

to the girl.

"'You will not mind leaving a guarantee in the way of money?' he asked.

"I satisfied him on this point also.

"Finally it was arranged that if I could not get Vera away secretly, he

should be prepared to have Vancome arrested. He, however, warned me

that we were running a considerable risk, and let me fully understand

that he intended to deny all knowledge of my real motives.

"Having settled this matter, I went down to the docks, found out the

vessel and waited.

"It was a beautiful night, calm and clear, with a slight mist lying over

the Mersey. As I waited watching the vessels pass and repass, the moon

rose and lit up the broad expanse of water. The sands in the direction

of Waterloo were nearly covered, and looking westward the river spread

out as if to welcome the opening sea. I cursed the ocean as I thought

that it might so soon have been the means of bearing away one I loved

from every helping hand. I pictured Vera when she realized the truth,

looking out over the cruel waste of water, helpless, compromised, and

too weak to struggle against her fate; a fate which probably she would

only half comprehend or realize. Some passengers were already on the

steamer. She might even now be there. I walked across the

landing-stage to the vessel, but could see no sign of either of the

fugitives.

"The time passed; I grew anxious. Could there be some mistake? At

last, utterly unnerved, I sat down, and my heart cried out, 'Vera!

Vera! come, oh, come! that I may save you.'

"A hand touched me on the shoulder. I looked up, the girl was standing

over me; she had in her eyes a strange far-away look as though she were

walking in her sleep.

"'You called me,' she said, 'but I must not wait, for my husband told me

on no account to leave the berth until the ship had started.'

"I made no audible reply, but willing her to follow me, left the ship.

Passing across the bridge I saw my detective waiting.

"'Keep the money,' I whispered.

"He saluted, and we passed on, the girl still following close behind me.

I led the way to where Mrs. Freshfield had promised to wait, and found

her in a state of great excitement. When, however, she saw Vera a look

of relief passed over her face, and the kind-hearted woman went up, took

the girl in her arms and kissed her as if she had been a long-lost child

of her own.

"'Vera,' I said, bringing all my power to bear upon her, 'I want you to

go home with this lady at once; do you understand?'

"'Yes, go home,' she answered in a weary, uninterested voice.

"I took her hands in mine, bent over and kissed her. 'Forget,' I

whispered, 'all that has happened in the last thirty hours, and hate,

hate, hate Vancome.'

"I said good-bye to my friend, made her promise to take Vera to her home

at once, and left them.

"A frenzy of delight passed through me; for the moment I was mad.

Though I had touched no food for thirty hours, I did not experience any

feeling of hunger. I was hungry only for revenge. I would go back to

the ship, would see the man's look of baffled rage and anger; would

laugh at him, mock him, torture him. I began to run, and still in this

mood regained the landing-place, and pressing my way past a crowd of

people, who were leaving the vessel, went on board. Where was he? I

thought of nothing else, cared for nothing, but to look at his face, to

taunt him. I heard whistles blowing, shouts, the motion of the engine,

but cared for nothing. I would find him. If the worst came to the

worst it would be possible to get off at Queenstown. What did anything

matter now that Vera was safe!

"But with regard to Queenstown I was mistaken. Vancome had planned his

elopement some little time before, and with more forethought and care

than I should have expected of him. The vessel he had chosen was making

an experimental time journey, with special pilots on board, and did not

stop anywhere this side of the Atlantic.

"While I was thus frantically searching for the enemy, he was quietly

enjoying a cigar in the smoking-saloon, in the full confidence that Vera

was in hiding, according to instructions, in the state cabin, which he

had engaged. When his cigar was finished and the ship well on its way,

he walked over to the cabin with the intention of releasing his captive;

but finding she had already gone, and supposing that, the ship being in

motion, she had considered herself free, he sauntered quietly up the

ladder expecting to find her on deck. Thus it happened that we met at

last face to face.

"The moment I saw him my excitement left me, and I became calm and

collected. He evidently knew nothing as yet, and I enjoyed the pleasure

of playing with him before dealing the final blow. Besides, it would be

safer to keep him from knowing the worst till we were out of the Mersey

and in the open sea, for I thought that probably the river pilot would

leave before long, and my foe might get permission to accompany him on

shore, in which case the safety of my plans might be slightly

endangered. Assuming, therefore, a natural surprise, I said--

"'Well, who would have expected to meet you here?'

"He glared at me for a moment, then, feeling that it was necessary to

say something, answered, 'You cannot be more surprised than I am to see

you, for I thought you were in London. But you must excuse me a

moment.' He hurried forward, and I saw him looking intently across the

deck, scanning all the passengers with the evident expectation of seeing

Vera.

"I watched, with a smile on my face. Having satisfied himself that she

was not on deck, he came back to me, and I suggested that we should go

into the smoking-room.

"He thought for a moment, and then, evidently fancying that it would be

the safest plan to keep me out of the way of discovering anything for

the present, assented.

"The room was unoccupied, and we sat down opposite each other. He was

evidently debating as to which was the best course to pursue. He could

not keep Vera in hiding through the voyage, and therefore was certain to

be found out. I could hardly restrain my laughter at his view of the

position. What would he say when he discovered that her place had been

taken by me? This suggested an idea.

"'I suppose,' I said, 'you cannot help me? I came on board at the last

moment and have not yet engaged a berth. There is not a spare one in

your cabin?'

"'_Damned if there is!_' he thought; but he only said after a little

hesitation, 'No, it is occupied.'

"'Now look here,' I continued, 'you will never guess why I came here; it

is such fun, you will enjoy the situation, but you must keep it quiet.

I have run off with some one else's wife!' and I burst out in loud

laughter.

"He looked relieved, patted me on the back, and began to whistle. 'What

about the cabin?' he said, laughing.

"'Oh!' I replied (having in truth forgotten all about it), 'that was my

little joke.'

"'_Then,_' he thought, '_I need not mind about him now, and may as well

make a dean breast of it!_' 'I hope you have not run off with mine,' he

said. 'You see I cannot now quite approve of these actions, I am a

married man myself.'

"'A married man!' I exclaimed, trying to look more surprised than I

felt, at what I supposed was a lie.

"'Look at that,' he continued, and drew from his pocket a copy of a

marriage-licence dated that day at a registry office in Liverpool.

"It was--I could not be mistaken, the names and particulars were clear,

though Vera's age had been inaccurately stated as twenty-one. I can see

the paper distinctly at this moment, every cursed line. My brain reeled,

and shouting out,--'My lie is true. I have run away with some one else's

wife--your wife,' I fell forward on the floor insensible.

"On recovering I found that I had been placed in a cabin by myself, and

was under the doctor's hands. It required but little power of

thought-reading to discover that he regarded me as an escaped and rather

dangerous lunatic, an opinion which I felt to be not far from correct.

The position was ridiculous in the extreme. Following the dictates of

my partially-developed powers, I had formed an erroneous view; rescued a

girl against her will from her own husband, and was now taking a

needless voyage in her place to America. I wondered what Vancome

thought of it all, and had not long to wait before discovering, as he,

having obtained permission from the doctor, appeared later on in the

day.

"I hated him more than ever, but at the same time was anxious to discuss

matters.

"After closing the door, he sat down, saying, 'What in the devil's name

is the meaning of all this?'

"'Perhaps,' I said, 'you will tell me first of all what you have done,

then I will tell you what I have done, and possibly the meaning may

come.'

"'Firstly,' he exclaimed, 'will you explain how you can have run off

with my wife when you are here, and she is not? Where is she?'

"I felt aggravated, and therefore inclined to be aggravating. 'I left

her,' I answered, 'as you know is generally the end of man's

inconsistency in this case.'

"'This is ridiculous!' he replied, a dangerous light coming into his

eyes. 'If you don't take care you will tempt me too far!'

"I felt nothing would please me more than to get him to murder me, then

after he had been hanged Vera might go free.

"'I hope,' I said, 'you like your wedding trip, you coward. Who, half

drunken with the father's wine, made a stage-play scene for the benefit

of his child, when her very innocence should have protected her? Who

lied about his private property, when he was in reality a beggar and

will soon be a bankrupt? Who at last decided to marry in the hope of

living on his wife's fortune?'

"He had come nearer and was now standing over me; his hand was on my

throat; but for his natural cowardice he would have strangled me. His

eyes glared down with fiendish anger!

"'You devil!' he cried, 'for devil I believe you are! Curse you! Curse

you!'

"'I have still a trifle of news left, it may be a comfort for you to

reflect upon it,' I said. 'Mr. Soudin is as badly off as you are. I

heard the newsboy shouting that an unlimited bank has failed in which he

is considerably interested. Probably if your mortgagees are merciful he

may be bankrupt before you even now!'

"Vancome looked at me for a moment, then, seeming satisfied that as I

knew so much it might be safe to rely upon me even in this, sank back in

his chair. The last blow had tamed him. He was not only robbed of his

wife, but what to him seemed far worse, utterly ruined, with or without

her; cut off from his long-cherished hope of redeeming his fortune by

marriage. I felt toward him almost a sensation of pity.

"After a pause he muttered, 'I cannot believe it! Some one told me that

Soudin was very wealthy--a regular miser, rolling in gold! Look here,'

he continued, turning to me, but the anger had left his face. 'Tell me

plainly, how do you know all these things? How did you know we were

here? What have you done with Vera? And why in the name of fortune are

you travelling with me to America?'

"I should have been a good deal puzzled to reply to the last question,

and had no intention of answering the three others, so I remained

silent. At this moment the doctor entered, and I expressed a wish to

speak to him alone. Vancome left us evidently unwillingly.

"'I see from your manner,' I said to the doctor, 'that you believe me to

be insane. I must therefore try to convince you that this is not the

case, though you were quite justified in accepting the view you did. I

came on board this ship hoping to find out something of great

importance. During my search the vessel started. I then heard very bad

news, and having in my excitement not tasted food for many hours, I

fainted. Will you let the captain know, however, that I am well

provided with money, and willing to pay for the best accommodation

possible?'

"I took out my pocket-book and handed him a card, and at the same time

drawing out a roll of notes which represented over L2000. I had brought

this money with me for the purpose of bribery, for had I found it

necessary to resort to that expedient, ready cash would have been

required.

"The sight of the money had more effect in satisfying the doctor that he

had not to deal with an escaped lunatic than any words could have done;

but I noticed he was meditating on the probability of my being an

escaped thief instead. However, having apparently decided that such

matters were out of his line of business, and seeing a good chance of

being paid for his services, his manner changed, and he became the

friendly practitioner.

"I was soon supplied with a few requisites for the journey and also

moved to very comfortable quarters; but I was most anxious to get an

opportunity of returning at once to England. In the evening I consulted

the captain, but though I offered a large reward if he could put me on a

homebound vessel, he declined to stop the ship on her trial trip.

"Fortune nevertheless favoured me. We had been talking for some time,

and it was well on into the night. The sea was smooth, though a gentle

westerly breeze was blowing. The passengers had retired for the night.

"'How much did you say you were prepared to give?' he asked presently.

"I saw he was wavering, and doubled the sum.

"'Well,' he said looking out, 'if I am not mistaken, that is a

Southampton schooner in the distance. Will you swear to keep the matter

dark if I get you on board?'

"I assented.

"'Do you know any one on this vessel?' he then asked.

"'Only one man,' I replied, 'and he will be less surprised at my

disappearance than he was at my appearance. He believes I am a

magician.'

"'We will chance it,' he said. 'You are not a passenger, and the whole

business can be done in ten minutes.'

"He gave some instructions and signalling went on. Then he crossed to

one of the mates, with whom he had a private conversation, which led to

a boat being got ready. The schooner had tacked and was coming quickly

towards us.

"'It is all right,' the officer said. 'I know the Captain of this ship,

and my mate will explain to him that you are willing to pay L100 for

your trip to Southampton. He will keep the matter dark. Good-bye!'

"The steamer had slackened, and we glided noiselessly toward the sailing

ship. As the boat was lowered I handed the speaker a handful of notes.

In less than five minutes I was on board the schooner, and before the

week was out, in London."

*CHAPTER VI*

"I found among the letters waiting attention, one from Mr. Soudin,

thanking me most warmly for my action in saving his daughter from Lord

Vancome, to whom he referred in language that hardly bears repetition.

It was a diplomatic letter, striving to shield Vera as much as possible,

and endeavouring to make out that she had not only left home against her

will, but even hinting that she had been drugged, as he said that since

her return with Mrs. Freshfield she had been unable to give any account

of what had happened, and that she evidently looked upon Vancome with

absolute detestation. This satisfied me that the influence which I had

exercised had been successful, and the girl remembered nothing about the

marriage. It was also plain that her father had no idea of the truth.

You may well conceive that my position was both a painful and difficult

one. I decided to go at once to Scotland, and hoped that during the

journey I might be able to form some plans for future action.