Resurgam
When Dentham asserted that the body of Adrian Lancaster had been
removed to Beryle Square, he told a lie, as the police refused to
allow any such thing. A doctor had been called in, who pronounced
life to be extinct, and the body was now lying on a couch in the
sitting-room, where it was to remain until the inquest. Olive had
refused to leave the house since the discovery, and in despair, Teddy,
afraid to leave her by herself, had telegraphed to her father to come
to Hampstead. Sir John immediately obeying the summons, had come up by
the night train, and the three of them were now in the room, talking
over the affair. Dentham had disappeared. The police were in
possession of the house, and now Sir John was trying to persuade his
daughter to come into town to the Metropole Hotel, and take the rest
she so sadly needed.
In spite of the verdict of the doctor, Teddy Rudall firmly refused to
believe that Adrian was dead, and declared with the greatest
confidence that he was only in a trance. It was this statement that
made Olive refuse to leave the house, as she half thought that Teddy
might be right in his belief, and Adrian would come back to life
again, so she was unwilling to be absent in case he should revive
while she was away. The sergeant of the police, who was present, now
insisted respectfully that they should all leave the house, as it was
nearly nine o'clock, and he was unable to retire until they did. Under
this pressure, Olive had consented to accompany her father and Teddy
into town.
"I'll come back in the morning," she said turning to the sergeant,
"and if he shows any signs of reviving, mind you send a messenger at
once to the Metropole.
"Yes miss--certainly!"
"What nonsense, Olive!" said her father testily, for the
unpleasantness of the situation was beginning to tell even on his
genial temper. "I'm afraid there's no chance of poor Adrian's revival,
he is dead--quite dead."
"There I disagree with you," interposed Teddy quietly, "he is in a
trance."
"But the doctor?"
"I don't care what the doctor says--he isn't the Pope, to be
infallible--if Adrian were dead, his body would have decayed long
ago."
"I'm sure, papa, if you believe in theosophy you can see that Dr.
Roversmire has hypnotised poor Adrian," said Olive firmly, "I daresay
if Dr. Roversmire were here, he could bring him to life again."
"Oh, he'll come back here, miss," observed the sergeant confidently,
"then he'll be arrested at once and to save his own skin, he'll do
what he can."
"I'm not so sure that Roversmire will return here," said Sir John
thoughtfully, "because he received a telegram to-day and went up to
town by the afternoon train, in a very agitated state."
"Who could the telegram have been from?" cried Olive.
"I daresay Dentham sent it," suggested Teddy "for I don't believe in
that fellow at all--he's away now."
"When he comes back sir, we'll not lose sight of him again," said the
policeman, "but now we really must go."
Olive assented in silence, and moved towards the door, followed by the
others. On the threshold however, she turned to take a last look at
Adrian, and truly it was a strange scene which met her eye. On the
table burned an oil lamp with a bright yellow flame, which only
illuminated half the room, the rest being in a kind of semidarkness,
and on the verge of this radiance was the couch, covered with a tiger
skin, upon which lay the body of Adrian Lancaster, still arrayed in
the ulster he had worn, with the quiet hands crossed on the placid
breast, the eyes closed, the lips smileless, and a look of terrible
calm on the white face.
Olive had placed a great bunch of tuber-roses in his hands, and the
sickly odour permeated the whole apartment, while, as the group stood
silently at the door, dead stillness seemed to reign around.
Suddenly from the black marble clock over the mantelpiece there
sounded the hour of nine, in deep hollow tones, like the knell
of a funeral bell. One! two! three! four! five! six! seven! eight!
nine!--they rang heavily through the silence of the night, while the
listeners, overcome by the strangeness of the scene, stood immovable,
counting each sonorous stroke with mute lips. As the last died away in
silence, there was an awful pause, as if the absence of sound made the
quiet more ghastly, and then--
The figure on the couch stirred and sighed--the hands raised
themselves off the breast, and the flowers fell with a muffled sound
on the floor. The onlookers gazed at this awesome resurrection in
paralyzed silence, and it was only when Adrian opened his eyes, and
languidly tried to rise, that the spell broke, and Olive fell on the
floor, while the three men rushed forward in a state of uncontrollable
agitation.
"He lives! he lives!" cried Sir John, placing his arm under Adrian's
head, and cautiously lifting him to an erect sitting position.
"I knew it was a trance," said Teddy triumphantly, "poor old chap, he
seems quite worn out," and with great presence of mind, he poured out
a glass of wine, and held it to Adrian's lips.
While he was drinking it, the sergeant stood scratching his head in
amazement.
"I never saw such a queer thing in my life," he said, staring at
Adrian with a look of awe on his face, "it's like the raisin' of
Lazarus."
Adrian, revived somewhat with the wine, spoke in a faint voice.
"Olive," he whispered, "Olive." The woman on the floor heard the
beloved voice, and, raising herself to her knees, dragged herself
across the floor to the side of the couch and, with one cry of joy,
clasped Adrian to her breast.
* * * * * *
EXTRACT FROM "THE MORNING PLANET."
"A curious case of suspended animation is reported to have taken place
in London within the last few weeks. Most of our readers will remember
the extraordinary disappearance of Mr. Adrian Lancaster, who, having
quarrelled with a friend, left his chambers in Piccadilly and was not
heard of for some time. He was ultimately discovered in the house of a
Dr. Michael Roversmire, who appears to have made him the subject of
some mesmeric experiment, for the unfortunate gentleman had evidently
been cast into a trance, and was to all appearances dead. And now
comes the curious part of the story. Dr. Roversmire, no doubt
dreading the questions that might be asked him, disappeared on the
discovery of Mr. Lancaster's inanimate form, and was found dead in a
low public-house situate in the Seven Dials. It appears his valet,
Dentham (who had given most valuable information to the police
concerning the whereabouts of Mr. Lancaster), was with him at the time
of his death, which took place, so he asserted to the landlord of the
hotel, at nine o'clock. It is worthy of remark that, as the man who
exercised the mesmeric power died at The Seven Dials, Mr. Lancaster,
the person over whom such power had been exercised, revived, and has
been in perfect possession of his faculties ever since. So we beg all
professors of Mesmerism, Hypnotism or Occult Science to note that this
power over their victims evidently ceases upon their death. Mr.
Lancaster, who has been in a trance state for at least three weeks,
steadily refuses to give any information of his experiences during
that period, but we suspect the reason of such refusal is simply that
he has nothing to tell, as his faculties were no doubt absolutely
powerless to exercise themselves while under the evil influence of the
hypnotic power of Dr. Roversmire.
"Dentham, the valet of the deceased, has disappeared, and is supposed
by the police to have gone to America. Dr. Roversmire, whose death is
ascribed to suicide (proved by the small portion of deadly poison
found in the phial clenched in his hand and the appearance of the
stomach after a post mortem examination), was a wealthy man, and, as
no relatives or friends of the deceased can be found, nor to all
appearances is there any will in existence, the whole property of the
deceased will go to the Crown.
"We hear Mr. Lancaster is about to marry Miss Olive Maunders, the
daughter of Sir John Maunders of No. 40, Beryle Square and The Nook,
Marlow; and we heartily congratulate him on his narrow escape from the
hands of such an unscrupulous charlatan as Roversmire seems to have
been."
* * * * * *
So far the oracle of the Press, but no one ever knew the real truth
except Olive, to whom Adrian told the whole story, and, in spite of
her scepticism, she was forced to believe, if not the whole, at least
a portion of the strange recital. With Philip Trevanna, who was
indirectly the cause of all his strange experiences, Adrian became
good friends, so much so, that Mr. Trevanna acted as his best man,
and, in conjunction with Teddy Rudall, saw the bridal pair off to
Dover, from whence they departed to the Continent for their honeymoon.
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's The Gentleman Who Vanished, by Fergus Hume