A SERIES OF MISADVENTURES
With the advent of the guard, Hamar's assailant was dragged off him,
and he was locked up in a separate compartment, "to be given in
charge," so the indignant official announced, directly they got to
Brighton. But Hamar ordained it otherwise. As soon as he had
sufficiently recovered from the effects of the severe castigation the
female furioso had inflicted on him, he became invisible, and when the
train drew up at the Brighton platform, and a couple of policemen
arrived to march him on, he was nowhere to be found! This was his
first experiment with the newly acquired property. "In future," he
said to himself, "before I try any tricks, I'll take very good care
there are no Suffragettes about."
In London there was, of course, no need for him ever to pay fares. All
he had to do, was to become invisible as soon as the taxi stopped,
calmly step out of the vehicle, and walk away. As for meals, he was
able to enjoy many--gratis. He simply walked into a restaurant, fed on
the very best, and then disappeared. Of course, he could not repeat
the trick in the same place, and cautious though he was, he was at
last caught. It appears that a description of him had been circulated
among the police, and that private detectives were employed to watch
for him in the principal hotels and restaurants. Consequently,
directly he entered the grill room at the Piccadilly Hotel, he was
arrested and handcuffed before he had time to swallow a pill.
He was now in a most unpleasant predicament--the tightest corner he
had ever been in. Supposing he could not escape--his sentence would be
at the least two years' penal servitude--what would happen? Curtis and
Kelson would never work the show without him. Curtis would give
himself entirely up to eating and drinking, Kelson would marry Lilian
Rosenberg; the compact with the Unknown would be broken; and after
that--he dare not think. He must escape! He must get at the pills! The
police took him away in a taxi, and all the time he sat between them,
he struggled desperately to squeeze his hands through the small, cruel
circle that held them. "It's all right for Curtis and Kelson!" he said
to himself, "all right at least--now! They know nothing! They have
never tried to think what the breaking of the compact means! Their
weak, silly minds are entirely centred on the present! The present!
Damn the present! They are fools, idiots, imbeciles who think only of
the present--it's the future--the future that matters!" He scraped the
skin off his wrists, he sweated, he swore! And it was not until one of
the detectives threatened to rap him over the head, that he sullenly
gave in and sat still.
The taxi drew up in front of the Gerald Road Police Station, and Hamar
was conducted to an ante-room, prior to being taken before the
inspector. Just as a policeman was about to search him, he made one
last desperate effort.
"Look here," he said, "if I pledge you my word I'll not attempt to do
anything, will you let me have my hands--or at least one of my
hands--free a moment. Some grit has got in my eye and I cannot stand
the irritation."
"That game won't work here," one of the detectives said, "you should
keep your eyes shut when there's dust about, or else not have such
protruding ones."
Hamar threatened to report him to the Home Secretary for brutal
conduct, but the detective only laughed, and Hamar had to submit to
the mortification of being searched.
"What are these?" a detective said, fingering the seaweed pills
gingerly.
"Stomachic pills!" Hamar said bitterly, "they are taken as a digestive
after meals. You look dyspeptic--have one."
"Now, none of your sauce!" the detective said, "you come along with
me,"--and Hamar was hauled before the inspector.
"Can I go out on bail?" Hamar asked.
"Certainly not," the inspector replied.
"Then I shan't give you my name and address," Hamar said. "I shan't
tell you anything."
The inspector merely shrugged his shoulders, and after the charge
sheet was read over, Hamar was conducted to a cell.
"This is awful," he said, "what the deuce am I to do! To send for
Curtis and Kelson will be fatal, and it will be equally fatal to leave
them in ignorance of what has happened to me. I am, indeed, in the
horns of a dilemma. I must get at those pills."
Up and down the floor of the tiny cell he paced, his mind tortured
with a thousand conflicting emotions. And then, an idea struck him. He
would ask to be allowed to see his lawyer.
"Cotton's the man," he said to himself, "he will get the pills for
me!"
The inspector, after satisfying himself that Cotton was on the
register, rang him up, and after an hour of terrible suspense to
Hamar, the lawyer briskly entered his cell.
They conferred together for some minutes, and having arranged the
method of defence, Cotton was preparing to depart, when Hamar
whispered to him--
"I want you to do me a particular favour. In the top right hand drawer
of the chest of drawers in my bedroom, in Cockspur Street, I have left
a red pill-box. These pills are for indigestion. I simply can't do
without them. Will you get them for me?"
"What, to-night?" the lawyer asked dubiously.
"Yes, to-night," Hamar pleaded. "I'll make it a matter of business
between us--get me the pills before eight o'clock, and you have £1000
down. My cheque book is in the same drawer."
The lawyer said nothing, but gave Hamar a look that meant much!
Again there was a dreadful wait, and Hamar had abandoned himself to
the deepest despair when Cotton reappeared. He shook hands with his
client, slipping the pills into the latter's palm. Whilst the lawyer
was pocketing his cheque, Hamar gleefully swallowed a pill, and crying
out "Bakra--naka--takso--mana,"--vanished!
"Heaven preserve us! What's become of you?" Cotton exclaimed, putting
his hand to his forehead and leaning against the wall for support. "Am
I ill or dreaming?"
"Anything wrong, sir?" a policeman inquired, opening the cell door and
looking in. "Why, what have you done with the prisoner--where is he?"
"I have no more idea than you," the lawyer gasped. "He was talking to
me quite naturally, when he suddenly left off--said something
idiotic--and disappeared."
Hamar did not dally. He quietly slipped through the open door, and
darting swiftly along a stone passage, found his way to the entrance,
which was blocked by two constables with their backs to him.
"I'll give the brutes something to remember me by," Hamar chuckled,
and, taking a run, he kicked first one, and then the other with all
his might, precipitating them both into the street. He then sped past
them--home.
Hamar, by astute inquiries, learned that the police had decided to
hush up the affair, not being quite sure how they had figured, or,
indeed, what had actually occurred. As to Cotton, the shock he had
undergone, at seeing Hamar suddenly melt away before his eyes, was so
great that he went off his head, and had to be confined in an asylum.
After this adventure Hamar shunned restaurants, and manipulating his
new property sparingly, and with the utmost caution, warned Kelson and
Curtis to do the same.
"I'll bet anything," he said to them, "it was a put-up job on the part
of the Unknown--a cunning device to make us break the compact."
"Oh, we'll be careful enough as far as that goes," Curtis growled.
"It's this vegetarian diet that I can't stick. Fancy living on beans
and potatoes, and only milk and aerated water to wash them down. It
was bad enough in San Francisco, when we hadn't the means even to
smell meat cooking--but with the money literally burning a hole in
one's pocket, it's ten times worse! Whatever the Unknown has in store
for us it can't be a worse Hell than what I've got now. What say you,
Matt?"
"The same! Precisely the same!" Kelson said. "Only it's love--not
potatoes and beans that worries me. In the old days when I was
penniless, I did get some consolation from knowing it was all
hopeless--but now--now, when, as Ed says, 'the money's literally
burning a hole in one's pocket,' and everything might go
swimmingly--not to be allowed even to buy a bracelet--is more than
human nature can endure. I certainly can't conceive a Hell to beat
it."
"Don't be too sure," Hamar said, "and for goodness' sake don't let the
Unknown give you an opportunity of comparing."
The night succeeding this conversation, Hamar, Curtis and Kelson
introduced their new properties into the programme of their
entertainment in Cockspur Street, and London got another big thrill.
Hamar exhibited such startling proofs of his power of invisibility,
that not only was the whole audience convinced, but from amongst
certain prominent members of the Council of the Psychical Research
Society, who were attending with the express purpose of unmasking
Hamar, two had epileptic fits on the spot, and several, before they
could get home, became raving lunatics.
At the commencement of the second part of the programme--the audience
was still too flabbergasted to fully grasp what was happening. They
saw on the stage a huge tank of water--with which they were told Mr.
Curtis would experiment.
"What I am about to do," Mr. Curtis--who now walked on to the
stage--informed his audience, "is quite simple. All you want is faith.
Those of you who are Christian Scientists should be able to do it as
easily as I. Say 'I will! I will walk on the water!' and your
faith--your colossal faith--faith in your ability to do it will
actually enable you to do it."
Curtis then repeated--in tones that could not be heard by the
audience--the Atlantean cabalistic words--"Karma--nardka--rapto--
nooman--K--arma--oola--piskooskte," and glided gracefully on to the
surface of the water. Every now and then he sank slowly down to the
bottom, where he strolled about, or sat, or lay down.
The audience was simply fascinated. Nothing they had hitherto seen
tickled their fancy half as much. As an American, who was present, put
it--"To live under the water like a fish is immense--so hygienic and
economical."
Though the time apportioned to this part of the entertainment was
half an hour, it was extended to over an hour, and even then the
audience was not satisfied. They would have gone on watching
Curtis--eating--drinking--jumping--skipping--singing and chasing gold
fish--under the water all night, and when he was at length permitted to
come out of the tank--exhausted and sulky--they gave him even heartier
applause than they had given Hamar.
But the cup of their enjoyment was not yet full. The greatest treat of
all was in store for them.
For the third and last part of the entertainment, a cage, containing a
large Bengal tiger, was wheeled on to the stage.
"You look precious white," Curtis remarked, just as Kelson was about
to go on.
"I guess you'd look the same," Kelson retorted, "if you had to hobnob
with a tiger. The Unknown always gives me the nasty jobs."
"And in this case," Curtis said with a low, mocking laugh, "it also
loads you with consolations. The house is full of ladies who adore
you, and if you are eaten, just think of the sympathy welling up in
their beautiful eyes! If that isn't sufficient compensation for you,
I--" But the remainder of this encouraging speech was lost in a loud
roar. The Bengal tiger shook its bars--the audience screamed, and
Curtis flew.
With a desperate attempt to look calm, Kelson, clutching the red laryx
stone in his left hand, walked on to the stage, whilst the tiger,
rearing on its hind legs tried to reach him with its paws.
There were loud cries of "Oh! Oh!" from the audience, and Kelson's
heart beat quicker, when a girl with wavy, fair hair and big, starry
eyes, screamed out "Don't go near it! Don't go near it!"
As soon as there was comparative quiet Kelson spoke.
"As you can see, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "this animal is
genuinely savage! It is not like the tigers one sees in menageries,
drugged and deprived of their natural weapons--teeth and claws. It
comes direct from India, where its reputation as a man-eater is
widespread. I am not, however, intimidated--its growls merely amuse
me."
Quaking all over, he approached the cage, and staring fixedly into the
tiger's face, made the prescribed passes. In an instant, the whole
attitude of the great cat changed. Dropping on to its fore-legs, it
rubbed its head against the bars and purred. A low buzz of
astonishment burst from the audience, and Kelson, now assured that the
spell had worked, waved his disengaged hand, in the most gallant
fashion, at the audience, and strutted into the cage. He shook paws
with the tiger, patted it on the back, sat down by its side, and,
whilst pretending to be on the most familiar terms with it, took every
precaution to avoid coming in too close contact with its teeth and
claws.
The audience was charmed--the men cheered, the ladies waved
handkerchiefs, and the only disappointed persons present were a few
belligerent and bloodthirsty boys, and a Suffragette, who severally,
and for diverse reasons, would have relished the performances of a
savage tiger, but had little sympathy with the performance of a tame
one.
The next surprise that Mr. Kelson had for his audience, was the
announcement that he could interpret the language of animals. At his
invitation, a dozen members of the audience came on to the platform
and stood near the cage. Looking steadily at the tiger he then
pronounced the mystic words "Meta--ra--ka--va--avakana," holding up
his right hand, with the thumb turned down and stretched right across
the palm, and the little finger extended to the utmost. In an instant
the great secret--the secret that Darwin had studied so strenuously
for years--was revealed to him. The language of animals was olfactory.
The tiger spoke to him through the sense of smell--through his nose
instead of his ears. It regulated and modified the odour it gave off
from its body, and which worked its way out through the pores of its
skin, just as human beings regulate and modify the intonations of
their voices. Indeed, so delicate are the olfactory organs of animals
that the faintest of these language smells makes an impression on
them, which impression is at once interpreted by the brain. If an
animal wishes to leave a message behind it, it merely impregnates some
article--a leaf or a root, or a clump of grass--or merely the ether
with a brain smell, and any other animal, happening to pass by the
spot, within a certain time (in favourable weather), will at once be
attracted by the smell, and be able to interpret it. That is the
reason one so often sees an animal suddenly stop at a spot and sniff
it--it is reading some message left there by some other animal. All
this, and more, Kelson explained to his audience, who were exceedingly
interested, many of them getting up to ask him questions. He also
reported to them the tiger's conversation, which consisted chiefly of
complaints against the management with regard to its food.
"To be everlastingly fed on scraps of horse-flesh," it said, "when
there were dozens of plump young women sitting in the stalls, under
its very nose, was tantalizing to a degree. Would Mr. Kelson kindly
speak to whoever was responsible for such cruelty and negligence?"
A bear and a crocodile having been tamed in the same manner, and their
remarks interpreted to the audience, the entertainment concluded.
The next day the papers were full of it.
The _Planet_, under the startling announcements--
"RECOVERY OF THE LOST SENSES.
MORE EXTRAORDINARY FEATS IN COCKSPUR STREET.
LEON HAMAR BECOMES INVISIBLE AT WILL,"
--narrated all that had occurred.
The _Monitor_--if anything more sensational--declared--
"THE LANGUAGE OF ANIMALS DISCOVERED AT LAST!
THE PROBLEM OF BREATHING UNDER WATER--SOLVED!
DEMATERIALIZATION AT WILL ESTABLISHED!"
And even the _Courier_--the steady, ever cautious old _Courier_,
England's premier paper, created a precedent by the use of a quite
conspicuously large type; vide the following--
"THE AGE OF MIRACLES REVIVED!
ACTUAL CASE OF SUBDUING AND CONVERSING WITH WILD ANIMALS.
RECOVERY OF THE PROPERTIES OF INVISIBILITY; OF WALKING ON WATER,
AND OF BREATHING UNDER WATER."
As before, there were innumerable cases of imitation, many of them,
unhappily, resulting in the death of the imitator. At Dover, for
instance, a Congregationalist Minister convinced that he had the
requisite amount of faith, announced from the pulpit, that he intended
walking on the water, in the Harbour, after service. Thousands flocked
to see him, but despite the fact that he said "I will! I will!" with
the greatest emphasis, the unkind waves would not support him. Indeed,
since they swallowed him, it might almost be said that the Rev. S----
supported the waves.
For two whole days there was regular stampedes of experimenters to
Hyde Park and Regent's Park, and the banks of their respective waters
resounded with the words, "I will walk! I will walk!" succeeded by
splashes and cries for help.
Nor was the water feat the only one that induced imitators. Crowds
flocked to the Zoological Gardens, and the various houses were
literally packed with people trying to get into conversation with the
animals; these attempts being also marked by a large proportion of
fatal results. One old gentleman--a Fellow of the Royal
Society--carried away in his enthusiasm to talk with a tiger, after
making what he thought to be the correct signs, slipped his nose
through the bars of the tiger's cage, and had it promptly bitten
off--whilst a girl, in her endeavours to sniff the crocodiles, and so
get in conversation with them, fell in their midst, and was torn to
pieces before help arrived.
However, these fatalities only served as an advertisement to the firm,
and hundreds of people, for whom there was not even standing room,
were turned away from the house nightly.
But later on there were hitches. Curtis, whose dislike to vegetarian
diet steadily increased, when dining one evening at his club, could no
longer withstand the sight of roast beef. The smell of it tickled his
palate unmercifully.
"Take this infernal mess away!" he said, pushing a plate of nut steak
from him in disgust, "and let me have a full course--entrée, soup,
fish, meat, everything you've got--chartreuse and a liqueur, and bring
it quick--I'm famished."
He ate and ate, and drank and drank, until it was as much as he could
do to rise from the table. And then, in excellent spirits, he repaired
to Cockspur Street.
How he got on to the stage he could never tell. Everything was in a
haze around him, until there was a dull crash in his ears, and he
suddenly found himself drowning. No one, at first, noticed his
helpless condition, but attributed his antics to part of the
programme; and he most certainly would have been drowned, had it not
been for Lilian Rosenberg, who, being quite by chance, in front of the
house, perceived he was drunk, the moment he came on the stage. She
flew to the wings, and, just in the nick of time, got two of the
supers to haul him out of the tank. Of course, it was announced--with
a pretty apology--by Mr. Hamar, that Mr. Curtis had been taken ill.
Kelson immediately came on with his animals, and the audience departed
without the slightest suspicion as to the truth.
Hamar was furious.
"You idiot!" he said to Curtis, "that all comes of your making a beast
of yourself--you would sacrifice Matt and me, for your insatiable
craving for meat and alcohol. Can't you see it was a trick of the
Unknown to make us break the compact? Had you been drowned, the
partnership, would, of course, have been dissolved--and it would have
been your fault! You must obey your injunctions! Damn it, you must!"
And Hamar spoke so fiercely that Curtis was for once in a way cowed,
and solemnly promised that he would not repeat the offence.
Kelson was the next culprit; and his misdoings were indirectly
associated with the foregoing incident. Lilian Rosenberg's action in
saving Curtis's life, thrilled him to the core, and called into play
all his ardent passion. He had seen her sitting in the front of the
house, and had come upon the scene just as she was urging the supers
to go to Curtis's assistance; and he then thought she had never looked
so lovely.
"Come out with me to-morrow afternoon," he whispered. "Hamar's going
out of town!" And before she could stop him he had kissed her.
Kelson hardly expected Lilian Rosenberg would accept his invitation,
but on arriving at the place he had named, he was delighted beyond
measure to find her there.
Nor could anyone have been nicer to him. No girl, he told himself, who
did not in some degree at least, reciprocate his sentiments, could
have allowed him to stare into her eyes as she did, or squeeze her
hands, as he did. He took her to the ladies' drawing-room of his club,
where there were plenty of quiet, secluded nooks, and there, whilst
she poured out tea for him, he once more related to her all his early
deeds and ailments--real and imaginary--and all his ideals and
aspirations.
Lilian Rosenberg was most sympathetic.
"You should have been a poet," she said. "There is something about you
that is quite Byronic."
And Kelson, who had never even heard of Byron, was immensely
flattered.
"Will you come to the jeweller's with me," he said, "and choose
whatever you like best. Those fingers of yours are made for
rings--rings of all sorts!" and he gave them a gentle pressure.
She let him escort her to Bond Street, and followed him gaily into
Raymond's; but when it came to accepting a ring from him, she
laughingly refused, and chose, instead, the most expensive diamond
bracelets and pendants in the shop. Some of these she wore--the
rest--unknown to him of course--she sold; sending the proceeds,
anonymously, to Shiel Davenport--who was starving.
When Kelson went on the stage, that evening, his thoughts were so far
away--planning for his honeymoon--that he entered the cage of a newly
imported lion without having made the necessary signs, and would most
certainly have been mangled out of recognition, had not one of the
supers, perceiving how matters lay, rushed to his assistance, and kept
the lion at bay with a pole, till further help could be procured. It
had been a narrow squeak, and to Kelson the bare idea of continuing
his performance was appalling. His nerves were, as he himself put it,
anyhow, and he preferred retiring for the rest of the evening.
But Hamar would not hear of it.
"This is the second bungle we have had," he said, "and the reputation
of the firm is seriously at stake. You must go on again and retrieve
it."
And Kelson, trembling all over, was obliged to reappear.
After it was all over, and he had bowed himself out into the wings,
Hamar led him aside.
"Don't look so damned pleased with yourself," he said, "I don't half
like the look of things. This is the third time the Unknown has tried
to trap us--the fourth time it may be successful! Take care!"