THE, APE 
 THE IDIOT 
 & OTHER 
 PEOPLED 
 
 ^r > 
 
 m 
 
 we. MORROW
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 c;;;- u.c. LiUsr
 
 THE APE, THE IDIOT 
 AND OTHER PEOPLE
 
 THE APE 
 THE IDIOT 
 & OTHER 
 PEOPLE 
 
 BY 
 
 W. C. MORROW 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT 
 COMPANY 1897
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1897 
 
 BY 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
 
 p* 
 
 THE stories in this volume are 
 published with the kind permis- 
 sion of the periodicals in which they 
 originally appeared Lippincotft 
 Magazine, Philadelphia, and the 
 Overland Monthly, the Argonaut, 
 the Examiner, the News Letter, 
 and the Call, all of San Francisco. 
 
 61Q7S1
 
 Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF LITTLE WANG TAI . . 9 
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE ......... 14 
 
 His UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY ........ 48 
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO ......... 67 
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE ........ 90 
 
 THE INMATE or THE DUNGEON ....... 109 
 
 A GAME OF HONOR ............ 134 
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO ........... 147 
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT ........ 168 
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA ........ 188 
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER ........... zi3 
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE ........... 245 
 
 Two SINGULAR MEN ............ z$6 
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET .......... V] 5
 
 The Resurrection of Little Wang 
 Tai 
 
 A TRAIN of circus-wagons, strung along a 
 dusty road, in the Santa Clara Valley, 
 crept slowly under the beating heat of a July 
 sun. The dust rolled in clouds over the gaudy 
 wagons of the menagerie. The outer doors 
 of the cages had been opened to give access 
 of air to the panting animals, but with the air 
 came the dust, and the dust annoyed Rom- 
 ulus greatly. Never before had he longed for 
 freedom so intensely. Ever since he could 
 remember he had been in a cage like this ; it 
 had been so all through his childhood and 
 youth. There was no trace in his memory of 
 days when he of a time had been free. Not 
 the faintest recollection existed of the time 
 when he might have swung in the branches 
 of equatorial forests. To him life was a deso- 
 lation and a despair, and the poignancy of it 
 all was sharpened by the clouds of dust which 
 rolled through the grated door. 
 9
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF 
 
 Romulus, thereupon, sought means of 
 escape. Nimble, deft, sharp-sighted, he 
 found a weak place in his prison, worked it 
 open, and leaped forth upon the highway a 
 free anthropoid ape. None of the sleepy, 
 weary drivers noticed his escape, and a proper 
 sense of caution caused him to seek security 
 under a way-side shrub until the procession 
 had safely passed. Then the whole world lay 
 before him. 
 
 His freedom was large and sweet, but, for 
 a while, perplexing. An almost instindlive 
 leap to catch the trapeze-bar that had hung in 
 his cage brought his hands in contaft with only 
 unresisting air. This confused and somewhat 
 frightened him. The world seemed much 
 broader and brighter since the black bars of 
 his prison no longer striped his vision. And 
 then, to his amazement, in place of the dingy 
 covering of his cage appeared a vast and awful 
 expanse of blue heaven, the tremendous depth 
 and distance of which terrified him. 
 
 The scampering of a ground-squirrel seek- 
 ing its burrow soon caught his notice, and he 
 watched the little animal with great curiosity. 
 Then he ran to the burrow, and hurt his feet 
 on the sharp wheat-stubble. This made him 
 more cautious. Not finding the Squirrel, he 
 10
 
 LITTLE WANG TAI 
 
 looked about and discovered two owls sitting 
 on a little mound not far away. Their solemn 
 gaze fastened upon him inspired him with awe, 
 but his curiosity would not permit him to 
 forego a closer view. He cautiously crept 
 towards them ; then he stopped, sat down, and 
 made grotesque faces at them. This had no 
 effect. He scratched his head and thought. 
 Then he made a feint as though he would 
 pounce upon them, and they flew. Romulus 
 gazed at them with the greatest amazement, for 
 never before had he seen anything skim 
 through the air. But the world was so wide 
 and freedom so large that surely everything 
 free ought to fly ; so Romulus sprang into the 
 air and made motions with his arms like to 
 those the owls had made with their wings ; 
 and the first grievous disappointment which 
 his freedom brought came when he found 
 himself sprawling on the field. 
 
 His alert mind sought other exercise. Some 
 distance away stood a house, and at the front 
 gate was a man, and Romulus knew man to be 
 the meanest and most cruel of all living things 
 and the conscienceless taskmaster of weaker 
 creatures. So Romulus avoided the house and 
 struck out across the fields. Presently he came 
 upon a very large thing which awed him. It 
 ii
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF 
 
 was a live-oak, and the birds were singing in 
 the foliage. But his persistent curiosity put a 
 curb upon his fears, and he crept closer and 
 closer. The kindly aspeft of the tree, the 
 sweetness of the shade which it cast, the cool 
 depths of its foliage, the gentle swaying of the 
 boughs in the soft north wind all invited him 
 to approach. This he did, until he arrived at 
 the gnarled old bole, and then he leaped into 
 the branches and was filled with delight. The 
 little birds took flight. Romulus sat upon a 
 limb, and then stretched himself at full length 
 upon it and enjoyed the peace and comfort of 
 the moment. But he was an ape and had to 
 be employed, and so he ran out upon the 
 smaller branches and shook them after the 
 manner of his parents before him. 
 
 These delights all exploited, Romulus 
 dropped to the ground and began to explore 
 the world again ; but the world was wide and 
 its loneliness oppressed him. Presently he 
 saw a dog and made quickly for him. The 
 dog, seeing the strange creature approach, 
 sought to frighten it by barking ; but Romulus 
 had seen similar animals before and had heard 
 similar sounds ; he could not be frightened by 
 them. He went boldly towards the dog by 
 long leaps on all fours. The dog, terrified by
 
 LITTLE WANG TAI 
 
 the strange-looking creature, ran away yelping 
 and left Romulus with freedom and the world 
 again. 
 
 On went Romulus over the fields, crossing 
 a road now and then, and keeping clear of all 
 living things that he found. Presently he 
 came to a high picket-fence, surrounding a 
 great inclosure, in which sat a large house in 
 a grove of eucalyptus-trees. Romulus was 
 thirsty, and the playing of a fountain among 
 the trees tempted him sorely. He might have 
 found courage to venture within had he not at 
 that moment discovered a human being, not 
 ten feet away, on the other side of the fence. 
 Romulus sprang back with a cry of terror, and 
 then stopped, and in a crouching attitude, 
 ready to fly for his life and freedom, gazed at 
 the enemy of all creation. 
 
 But the look he received in return was so 
 kindly, and withal so peculiar and so unlike 
 any that he had ever seen before, that his in- 
 stinft to fly yielded to his curiosity to discover. 
 Romulus did not know that the great house in 
 the grove was an idiot-asylum, nor that the lad 
 with the strange but kindly expression was one 
 of the inmates. He knew only that kindness 
 was there. The look which he saw was not 
 the hard and cruel one of the menagerie-keeper, 
 13
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF 
 
 nor the empty, idle, curious one of the spefta- 
 tors, countenancing by their presence and sup- 
 porting with their money the infamous and 
 exclusively human praftice of capturing wild 
 animals and keeping them all their lives in the 
 torture of captivity. So deeply interested was 
 Romulus in what he saw that he forgot his 
 fear and cocked his head on one side and made 
 a queer grimace ; and his motions and attitude 
 were so comical that Moses, the idiot, grinned 
 at him through the pickets. But the grin was 
 not the only manifestation of pleasure that 
 Moses gave. A peculiar vermicular move- 
 ment, beginning at his feet and ending at his 
 head, was the precursor of a slow, vacant 
 guffaw that expressed the most intense delight 
 of which he was capable. Moses never before 
 had seen so queer a creature as this little 
 brown man all covered with hair ; he never 
 before had seen even a monkey, that common 
 joy of ordinary childhood, and remoter from 
 resemblance to human kind than was Romulus. 
 Moses was nineteen ; but, although his voice 
 was childlike no longer and his face was cov- 
 ered with unsightly short hair, and he was 
 large and strong, running mostly to legs and 
 arms, he was simple and innocent. His clothes 
 were much too small, and a thick growth of 
 '4
 
 LITTLE WANG TAI 
 
 wild hair topped his poll, otherwise innocent 
 of covering. 
 
 Thus gazed these two strange beings at each 
 other, held by sympathy and curiosity. Neither 
 had the power of speech, and hence neither 
 could lie to the other. Was it instinft which 
 made Romulus believe that of all the bipedal 
 devils which infested the face of the earth 
 there was one of so gentle spirit that it could 
 love him ? And was it by instinct that Romu- 
 lus, ignorant as he was of the larger ways of 
 the world, discovered that his own mind was 
 the firmer and cleverer of the two ? And, 
 feeling the hitherto unimaginable sweetness of 
 freedom, did there come to him a knowledge 
 that this fellow-being was a prisoner, as he 
 himself had been, and longed for a taste of 
 the open fields ? And if Romulus so had rea- 
 soned, was it a sense of chivalry or a desire 
 for companionship that led him to the res- 
 cue of this one weaker and more unfortunate 
 than he ? 
 
 He went cautiously to the fence, and put 
 through his hand and touched Moses. The 
 lad, much pleased, took the hand of the ape 
 in his, and at once there was a good understand- 
 ing between them. Romulus teased the boy 
 to follow him, by going away a few steps and 
 '5
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF 
 
 looking back, and then going and pulling his 
 hand through the fence doing this repeatedly 
 until his intention worked its way into the 
 idiot's mind. The fence was too high to be 
 scaled ; but now that the desire for freedom 
 had invaded his being, Moses crushed the 
 pickets with his huge feet and emerged from 
 his prison. 
 
 These two, then, were at large. The 
 heavens were lifted higher and the horizon 
 was extended. At a convenient ditch they 
 slaked their thirst, and in an orchard they 
 found ripe apricots ; but what can satisfy the 
 hunger of an ape or an idiot ? The world was 
 wide and sweet and beautiful, and the exqui- 
 site sense of boundless freedom worked like 
 rich old wine in unaccustomed veins. These 
 all brought infinite delight to Romulus and his 
 charge as over the fields they went. 
 
 I will not tell particularly of all they did 
 that wild, mad, happy afternoon, while drunk 
 and reeling with freedom. I might say in 
 passing that at one place they tore open the 
 cage of a canary-bird swinging in a cherry-tree 
 out of sight of the house, and at another they 
 unbuckled the straps which bound a baby in a 
 cart, and might have made off with it but for 
 fear of arrest ; but these things have no rela- 
 16
 
 LITTLE WANG TAX 
 
 tion to the climax of their adventures, now 
 hastening to accomplishment. 
 
 When the sun had sunk lower in the yellow 
 splendor of the west and the great nickel dome 
 of the observatory on Mount Hamilton had 
 changed from silver to copper, the two revel- 
 lers, weary and now hungry again, came upon 
 a strange and perplexing place. It was a great 
 oak with its long, cone-shaped shadow pointed 
 towards the east and the cool depths of its 
 foliage that first attracted them. About the 
 tree were mounds with wooden head-boards, 
 which wiser ones would have known the mean- 
 ing of. But how could an ape or an idiot know 
 of a freedom so sweet and silent and unencom- 
 passed and unconditional as death ? And how 
 could they know that the winners of so rich a 
 prize should be mourned, should be wetted 
 with tears, should be placed in the ground with 
 the strutting pomp of grief? Knowing nothing 
 at all of things like this, how could they know 
 that this shabby burying-ground upon which 
 they had strayed was so unlike that one which, 
 in clear sight some distance away, was ordered 
 in walks and drive-ways and ornamented with 
 hedges, and fountains, and statues, and rare 
 plants, and costly monuments ah, my friends, 
 how, without money, may we give adequate 
 
 2 17
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF 
 
 expression to grief? And surely grief without 
 evidence of its existence is the idlest of indul- 
 gences ! 
 
 But there was no pomp in the shadow of the 
 oak, for the broken fence setting apart this 
 place from the influence of Christian civiliza- 
 tion enclosed graves holding only such bones 
 as could not rest easy in soil across which was 
 flung the shadow of the cross. Romulus and 
 Moses knew nothing of these things ; knew 
 nothing of laws prohibiting disinterment within 
 two years ; knew nothing of a strange, far-away 
 people from Asia, who, scorning the foreign 
 Christian soil upon which they walked, despis- 
 ing the civilization out of which they wrung 
 money, buried their dead in obedience to law 
 which they had not the strength to resist, and 
 two years afterwards dug up the bones and sent 
 them to the old home to be interred for ever- 
 lasting rest in the soil made and nourished by 
 a god of their own. 
 
 Should either Romulus or Moses judge be- 
 tween these peoples ? They were in better 
 business than that. 
 
 Their examination of a strange brick furnace 
 
 in which printed prayers were burned, and of 
 
 a low brick altar covered with the grease of 
 
 used-up tapers, had hardly been finished when 
 
 18
 
 LITTLE WANG TAI 
 
 an approaching cloud of dust along the broken 
 fence warned them to the exercise of caution. 
 Romulus was the quicker to escape, for a circus- 
 train makes a trail of dust along the road, and 
 with swift alacrity he sprang into the boughs 
 of the oak, the heavy Moses clambering labo- 
 riously after, emitting guffaws in praise of the 
 superior agility of his guardian. It made Moses 
 laugh again to see the little hairy man stretch 
 himself on a branch and sigh with the luxurious 
 comfort of repose, and he nearly had fallen 
 in trying to imitate the nimble Romulus. But 
 they were still and silent when the cloud of 
 dust, parting at a gate, gave forth into the 
 enclosure a small cavalcade of carriages and 
 wagons. 
 
 There was a grave newly dug, and towards 
 this came the procession, a shallow grave, for 
 one must not lie too deep in the Christian soil 
 of the white barbarian, but it was so small a 
 grave ! Even Romulus could have filled it, 
 and, as for Moses, it was hardly too large for 
 his feet. 
 
 For little Wang Tai was dead, and in this 
 small grave were her fragile bones to rest for 
 twenty-four months under three feet of Chris- 
 tian law. Interest tempered the fright which 
 Romulus and Moses felt when from the forward 
 19
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF 
 
 carriage came the sound of rasping oboes, belly- 
 less fiddles, brazen tom-toms, and harsh 
 cymbals, playing a dirge for little Wang Tai ; 
 playing less for godly prote&ion of her tiny 
 soul than for its exemption from the torture 
 of devils. 
 
 With the others there came forth a little 
 woman all bent with grief and weeping, for 
 little Wang Tai had a mother, and every 
 mother has a mother's heart. She was only 
 a little yellow woman from Asia, with queer 
 wide trousers for skirts and rocker-soled shoes 
 that flapped against her heels. Her uncovered 
 black hair was firmly knotted and securely 
 pinned, and her eyes were black of color and 
 soft of look, and her face, likely blank in con- 
 tent, was wet with tears and drawn with suffer- 
 ing. And there sat upon her, like a radiance 
 from heaven, the sweetest, the saddest, the 
 deepest, the tenderest of all human afflictions, 
 the one and the only one that time can 
 never heal. 
 
 So they interred little Wang Tai, and Rom- 
 ulus and Moses saw it all, and paper prayers 
 were burned in the oven, and tapers were 
 lighted at the altar ; and for the refreshment 
 of the angels that should come to bear little 
 Wang Tai's soul to the farther depths of blue
 
 LITTLE WANG TAI 
 
 heaven some savory viands were spread upon 
 the grave. The grave filled, the diggers hid 
 their spades behing the oven, Romulus watch- 
 ing them narrowly. The little bent woman 
 gathered her grief to her heart and bore it 
 away ; and a cloud of dust, widening away 
 alongside the broken fence, disappeared in the 
 distance. The dome of Mount Hamilton had 
 changed from copper to gold ; the purple can- 
 yons of the Santa Cruz Mountains looked cold 
 against the blazing orange of the western 
 sky ; the crickets set up their cheerful notes 
 in the great old oak, and night fell softly as a 
 dream. 
 
 Four hungry eyes saw the viands of the 
 grave, and four greedy nostrils inhaled the aro- 
 ma. Down dropped Romulus, and with less 
 skill down fell Moses. Little Wang Tai's 
 angels must go supperless to heaven this night 
 and it is a very long road from Christendom 
 to heaven! The two outlaws snatched, and 
 scrambled, and fought, and when all of this 
 little was eaten they set their minds to other 
 enterprises. Romulus fetched the spades and 
 industriously began to dig into Wang Tai's 
 grave, and Moses, crowing and laughing, fell 
 to as assistant, and as the result of their labor 
 the earth flew to either side. Only three feet 
 
 21
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF 
 
 of loose Christian law covered little Wang 
 Tai! 
 
 ******* 
 A small yellow woman, moaning with grief, 
 had tossed all night on her hard bed of mat- 
 ting and her harder pillow of hollowed wood. 
 Even the familiar raucous sounds of early 
 morning in the Chinese quarter of San Jose, 
 remindful of that far-distant country which 
 held all of her heart not lying dead under 
 Christian sod, failed to lighten the burden 
 which sat upon her. She saw the morning sun 
 push its way through a sea of amber and the 
 nickel dome of the great observatory on Mount 
 Hamilton standing ebony against the radiant 
 East. She heard the Oriental jargon of the 
 early hucksters who cried their wares in the 
 ill-smelling alleys, and with tears she added 
 to the number of pearls which the dew had 
 strewn upon the porch. She was only a small 
 yellow woman from Asia, all bent with grief; 
 and what of happiness could there be for her 
 in the broad sunshine which poured forth from 
 the windows of heaven, inviting the living 
 babies of all present mankind to find life and 
 health in its luxurious enfolding ? She saw the 
 sun climb the skies with imperious magnifi- 
 cence, and whispering voices from remote 
 
 22
 
 LITTLE WANG TAI 
 
 Cathay tempered the radiance of the day with 
 memories of the past. 
 
 Could you, had your hearts been break- 
 ing and your eyes blinded with tears, have 
 seen with proper definition the figures of a 
 strange procession which made its way along 
 the alley under the porch ? There were white 
 men with three prisoners three who so re- 
 cently had tested the sweets of freedom, and 
 they had been dragged back to servitude. Two 
 of these had been haled from the freedom of 
 life and one from the freedom of death, and 
 all three had been found fast asleep in the 
 early morning beside the open grave and empty 
 coffin of little Wang Tai. There were wise 
 men abroad, and they said that little Wang Tai, 
 through imperfect medical skill, had been in- 
 terred alive, and that Romulus and Moses, by 
 means of their impish pranks, had brought her 
 to life after raising her from the grave. But 
 wherefore the need of all this talk? Is it not 
 enough that these two brigands were whipped 
 and sent back into servitude, and that when 
 the little yellow woman from Asia had gath- 
 ered her baby to her breast the windows of 
 her soul were opened to receive the warmth 
 of the yellow sunshine that poured in a flood 
 from heaven ? 
 
 23
 
 The Hero of the Plague 
 
 ON a sweltering July day a long and un- 
 gainly shadow, stretching thirty feet 
 upon the ground, crept noiselessly up an ave- 
 nue leading to a fashionable hotel at a great 
 summer resort. The sun was setting, and its 
 slanting rays caused the shadow to assume the 
 appearance of an anamorphosis of ludicrous 
 proportions. It was a timid shadow perhaps 
 a shadow of strange and unnerving experiences. 
 The original of it was worthy of study. 
 He was a short, stout, stoop-shouldered man ; 
 his hair was ragged and dusty, his beard strag- 
 gling and scant. His visible clothing consisted 
 of a slouch hat, torn around the rim and cov- 
 ered with dust ; a woollen shirt ; a pair of very 
 badly soiled cotton trousers ; suspenders made 
 of rawhide strips, fastened to his trousers with 
 wooden pins, and the strangest of old boots, 
 which turned high up at the toes like canoes 
 (being much too long for his feet), and which 
 had a rakish aspect. 
 
 24
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 The man's face was a protest against hilar- 
 ity. Apparently he had all the appurtenances 
 of natural manhood, yet his whole expression 
 would have at once aroused sympathy, for it 
 was a mixture of childishness, confidence, 
 timidity, humility, and honesty. His look 
 was vague and uncertain, and seemed to be 
 searching hopelessly for a friend for the 
 guidance of natures that were stronger and 
 minds that were clearer. He could not have 
 been older than thirty-five years, and yet his 
 hair and beard were gray, and his face was 
 lined with wrinkles. Occasionally he would 
 make a movement as if to ward off a sudden 
 and vicious blow. 
 
 He carried a knotty stick, and his ample 
 trousers-pockets were filled to such an extent 
 that they made him appear very wide in the 
 hips and very narrow in the shoulders. Their 
 contents were a mystery. The pockets at 
 least produced the good effedl of toning down 
 the marvellous ellipticity of his legs, and in 
 doing this they performed a valuable ser- 
 vice. 
 
 " Hullo ! who are you ?" gruffly demanded a 
 porter employed in the hotel, as the disrepu- 
 table-looking man was picking his way with 
 great nicety up the broad interior stairs, afraid 
 25
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 that his dusty boots would deface the polished 
 brasses under foot. 
 
 " Baker," promptly replied the man, in a 
 small, timid voice, coming to a halt and hum- 
 bly touching his hat. 
 
 " Baker ? Well, what's your other name ?" 
 
 Mine ?" 
 
 " Yes, yours." 
 
 The stranger was evidently puzzled by the 
 question. He looked vacantly around the 
 ceiling until his gaze rested upon a glass chan- 
 delier above him ; but, finding no assistance 
 there, his glance wandered to an oriel, in 
 which there was a caged mocking-bird. 
 
 "Jess Baker that's all," he answered at 
 last, in his thin voice and slow, earnest manner. 
 
 " What ! don't know your other name ?" 
 
 " No, I reckin not," said Baker, after a 
 thoughtful pause. " I reckin it's jess Baker 
 that's all." 
 
 " Didn't they ever call you anything else ?" 
 
 "Me?" 
 
 " Yes, you." 
 
 Again Baker looked helplessly around until 
 he found the chandelier, and then his eyes 
 sought the oriel. Then he started as if he 
 had received a blow, and immediately reached 
 down and felt his ankles. 
 26
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 " Yes, sir," he answered. 
 
 " What was it ?" 
 
 " Hunder'd'n One," he quietly said, looking 
 at his questioner with a shade of fear and sus- 
 picion in his face. 
 
 The porter believed that a lunatic stood be- 
 fore him. He asked : 
 
 " Where are you from ?" 
 
 " Georgy." 
 
 " What part of Georgia ?" 
 
 Again was Baker at sea, and again did his 
 glance seek the chandelier and the oriel. 
 
 " Me ?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes, you. What part of Georgia are you 
 from ?" 
 
 " Jess Georgy," he finally said. 
 
 " What do you want here ?" 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you. I want you to hire 
 me," he replied, with a faint look of expedl- 
 ancy. 
 
 " What can you do ?" 
 
 " Me ?" 
 
 " Yes, you." 
 
 " Oh, well, I'll tell you. Most every- 
 thing." 
 
 "What salary do you want?" 
 
 "Me?" 
 
 " Of course you." 
 
 27
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 Want ?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 "Oh, well, about five dollars a day, I 
 reckin." 
 
 The porter laughed coarsely. " You 
 needn't talk to me about it," he said ; " I'm 
 not the proprietor." 
 
 The which ?" asked Baker. 
 
 The boss." 
 
 *' Oh, ain't you ?" and then he looked very 
 much puzzled indeed. 
 
 The porter had had sufficient amusement, 
 and so he demanded, in a brusque and menac- 
 ing tone, " Now, say you get away from here 
 quick ! We don't want no crazy tramps around 
 here. You understand ?" 
 
 Baker did not stir, but stood looking help- 
 lessly at the porter, surprised and grieved. 
 
 " Get out, I say, or I'll set the dogs on you !" 
 
 A look of deep mortification settled on 
 Baker's face, but he was not frightened ; he 
 did not move a muscle, except to glance 
 quickly around for the dogs. 
 
 "Ain't you going, you crazy old tramp? 
 If you don't I'll lock you up and send for the 
 sheriff;" and the porter rattled some keys in 
 his pocket. 
 
 Instantly a great horror overspread the 
 28
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 countenance of Baker from Georgia. He 
 looked wildly about and seemed ready to run, 
 and labored with an imaginary weight that 
 clung to his ankles. He took a single step in 
 his agitation, and suddenly realized that no 
 such encumbrance detained him. He shook 
 off the delusion and sprang to the bottom of 
 the stairs. His whole appearance had changed. 
 Humility had given way to uncontrollable 
 fear, and he had become a fleeing wild beast 
 that was hunted for its life. He sprang 
 through the outer door and reached the ground 
 in another bound, and gathered his strength 
 for immediate flight from terrors without a 
 name. 
 
 " Stop, there !" called a stern, full voice. 
 
 Baker obeyed instantly ; obeyed as might a 
 man long accustomed to the most servile obe- 
 dience ; as might a dog that has been beaten 
 until his spirit is broken. He bared his head, 
 and stood in the warm glow of the fading 
 light, meek and submissive. All signs of fear 
 had disappeared from his face ; but he was no 
 longer the Baker from Georgia who, a' few 
 minutes ago, had trudged along the gravelled 
 walk after the ungainly shadow. He jhad 
 sought a thing and had not found it had bit- 
 ten a rosy apple and was choked with dust. 
 29
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 Even the rakish boots looked submissive, and 
 showed their brass teeth in solemn acquies- 
 cence to an inevitability ; and somehow they 
 looked not nearly so rakish as formerly. 
 
 The voice that had checked Baker had not 
 a kindly tone; it was that of a suspicious man, 
 who believed that he had dete&ed a thief in 
 the aft of making off with dishonest booty 
 stored in ample pockets. Yet his face had a 
 generous look, though anger made his eyes 
 harsh. The two men surveyed each other, 
 anger disappearing from the face of one to 
 give place to pity, the other regarding him 
 with mild docility. 
 
 " Come along with me," said the gentleman 
 to Baker. 
 
 Evidently Baker had heard those words be- 
 fore, for he followed quietly and tamely, with 
 his dusty old hat in his left hand and his head 
 bowed upon his breast. He walked so slowly 
 that the gentleman turned to observe him, and 
 found him moving laboriously, with his feet 
 wide apart and his right hand grasping an 
 invisible something that weighted down his 
 ankles. They were now passing the end of 
 the hotel on their way to the rear, when they 
 came near a hitching-post, to which rings 
 were affixed with staples. Baker had been 
 30
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 looking around for something, and, as the 
 gentleman (who was Mr. Clayton, the pro- 
 prietor of the hotel) stopped near the post, 
 Baker walked straight up to it, without having 
 looked to the left or the right. Upon reach- 
 ing it he dropped the invisible something that 
 he carried in his right hand, laid his hat on 
 the ground, slipped the rawhide suspenders 
 from his shoulders, unbuttoned his shirt, 
 pulled it over his head, and laid it on the grass 
 alongside his hat. He then humbly embraced 
 the post and crossed his hands over a ring to 
 which a chain was attached. He laid his 
 cheek against his bare right arm and waited 
 patiently, without having uttered a protest or 
 made an appeal. The old boots looked up 
 wistfully into his sorrowing face. 
 
 His naked back glistened white. It was a 
 map on which were traced a record of the 
 bloody cruelties of many years ; it was a fine 
 piece of mosaic human flesh inlaid with the 
 venom of the lash. There were scars, and 
 seams, and ridges, and cuts that crossed and 
 recrossed each other in all possible directions. 
 Thus stood Baker for some time, until Mr. 
 Clayton kindly called to him : 
 
 " Put on your shirt." 
 
 He proceeded to obey silently, but was
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 confused and embarrassed at this unexpected 
 turn of events. He hesitated at first, how- 
 ever, for he evidently did not understand how 
 he could put on his shirt until his hands had 
 been released. 
 
 " Your hands are not chained," explained 
 Mr. Clayton. 
 
 The revelation was so unexpected that it 
 almost startled the man from Georgia. He 
 pulled out one hand slowly, that a sudden jerk 
 might not lacerate his wrist. Then he pulled 
 out the other, resumed his shirt and hat, picked 
 up the imaginary weight, and shuffled along 
 slowly after his leader. 
 
 " What is your name ?" asked the gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Hunder'd'n One." 
 
 They were soon traversing the corridor in 
 the servants' quarter of the hotel, when Baker 
 halted and ventured to say : 
 
 " I reckin you'r in the wrong curryder." 
 He was examining the ceiling, the floor, and 
 the numbers on the doors. 
 
 " No, this is right," said the gentleman. 
 
 Again Baker hobbled along, never releas- 
 ing his hold on the invisible weight. They 
 halted at No. 13. Said Baker, with a shade 
 of pity in his voice, 
 32
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 " 'Taint right. Wrong cunyder. Cell hun- 
 der'd'n one's mine." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but we'll put you in this one 
 for the present," replied the gentleman, as he 
 opened the door and ushered Baker within. 
 The room was comfortably furnished, and this 
 perplexed Baker more and more. 
 
 " Hain't you got it wrong ?" he persisted. 
 " Lifer, you know. Hunder'd'n One lifer 
 plays off crazy forty lashes every Monday. 
 Don't you know ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know ; but we'll not talk about 
 that now." 
 
 They brought a good supper to his room, 
 and he ate ravenously. They persuaded him 
 to wash in a basin in the room, though he 
 begged hard to be permitted to go to the 
 pump. Later that night the gentleman went 
 to his room and asked him if he wanted any- 
 thing. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you. You forgot to take it 
 off," Baker replied, pointing to his ankles. 
 
 The gentleman was perplexed for a mo- 
 ment, and then he stooped and unlocked and 
 removed an imaginary ball and chain. Baker 
 seemed relieved. Said the gentleman, as Baker 
 was preparing for bed : 
 
 " This is not a penitentiary. It is my 
 3 33
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 house, and I do not whip anybody. I will 
 give you all you want to eat, and good clothes, 
 and you may go wherever you please. Do you 
 understand ?" 
 
 Baker looked at him with vacant eyes and 
 made no reply. He undressed, lay down, 
 sighed wearily, and fell asleep. 
 
 II. 
 
 A stifling Southern September sun beat 
 down upon the mountains and valleys. The 
 thrush and the mocking-bird had been driven 
 to cool places, and their songs were not heard 
 in the trees. The hotel was crowded with 
 refugees from Memphis. A terrible scourge 
 was sweeping through Tennessee, and its 
 black shadow was creeping down to the Gulf 
 of Mexico ; and as it crept it mowed down 
 young and old in its path. 
 
 " Well, Baker, how are you getting along ?" 
 It was the round, cheerful voice of Mr. Clay- 
 ton. 
 
 The man from Georgia was stooping over a 
 pail, scouring it with sand and a cloth. Upon 
 hearing the greeting he hung the cloth over 
 the pail and came slowly to the perpendicular, 
 putting his hands, during the operation, upon 
 the small .of his back, as if the hinges in 
 34
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 that region were old and rusty and needed 
 care. 
 
 " Oh, well, now, I'll tell you. Nothin' 
 pertickler to complain on, excep' " 
 
 Well ?" 
 
 " I don't believe it's quite exaftly right." 
 
 " Tell me about it." 
 
 " Well, now, you see there ain't nobody 
 a-listenin', is there ?" 
 
 No." 
 
 " I think they ought to give me one more 
 piece, any way." 
 
 " Piece of what ?" 
 
 " Mebbe two more pieces." 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " Pie. It was pie I was a-talkin' about all 
 the time." 
 
 " Don't they give you sufficient ?" 
 
 " Pie ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " No, sir ; not nigh enough. An' an' 
 come here closter. I'm a-gittin' weak I'm 
 a-starvin' !" he whispered. 
 
 " You shall not starve. What do you 
 want ?" 
 
 " Well, now, I was jess a-thinkin' that one 
 or two more pieces fur dinner every day 
 
 every day " 
 
 35
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 " Pie ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; pie. I was a-talkin* about 
 pie." 
 
 " You shall certainly have it ; but don't 
 they give you any ?" 
 
 "What? Pie?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh, well, they do give me some." 
 
 " Every day ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; every day." 
 
 " How much do they give you ?" 
 
 Pie ?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you. About two pieces, I 
 believe." 
 
 " Aren't you afraid that much more than 
 that would make you sick ?" 
 
 " Oh, well, now, I'm a-goin' to tell you 
 about that, too, 'cause you don't know about 
 it. You see, I'm mostly used to gittin' sick, 
 an' I ain't mostly used to eatin' of pie." He 
 spoke then, as he always spoke, with the most 
 impressive earnestness. 
 
 Baker had undergone a great change within 
 the two months that had passed over him at 
 the hotel. Kindness had driven away the 
 vacant look in his eyes and his mind was 
 stronger. He had found that for which his 
 36
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 meagre soul had yearned a sympathizing 
 heart and a friend. He was fat, sleek, and 
 strong. His old boots the same as of yore, 
 for he would not abandon them looked less 
 foolish and seemed almost cheerful. Were 
 they not always in an atmosphere of gentle- 
 ness and refinement, and did they not daily 
 tread the very ground pressed by the bravest 
 and richest boots in the land ? It is true that 
 they were often covered with slops and chick- 
 ens' feathers, but this served only to bring out 
 in bolder relief the elevating influences of a 
 healthy morality and a generous prosperity 
 that environed them. There are many boots 
 that would have been spoiled by so sudden an 
 elevation into a higher sphere of life ; but the 
 good traits of Baker's boots were strengthened 
 not only by a rooting up of certain weaknesses, 
 but also by the gaining of many good qualities 
 which proved beneficial ; and to the full extent 
 of their limited capability did they appreciate 
 the advantages which their surroundings af- 
 forded, and looked up with humble gratitude 
 whenever they would meet a friend. 
 
 There were six hundred guests at'the hotel, 
 and they all knew Baker and had a kind word 
 to give him. But they could never learn any- 
 thing about him other than that his name was 
 37
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 Baker "jess Baker, that's all" and that he 
 came from Georgia "jess Georgy." Occa- 
 sionally a stranger would ask him with urgent 
 particularity concerning his past history, but 
 he then would merely look helpless and puz- 
 zled and would say nothing. As to his name, 
 it was "jess Baker;" but on rare occasions, 
 when pressed with hard cruelty, his lips could 
 be seen to form the words, " Hunder'd'n 
 One," as though wondering how they would 
 sound if he should utter them, and then the 
 old blank, suffering look would come into his 
 face. It had become quite seldom that he 
 dodged an imaginary blow, and the memory 
 of the ball and chain was buried with other 
 bitter recollections of the past. He had free 
 access to every part of the house, and was dis- 
 creet, diligent, faithful, and honest. Some- 
 times the porters would impose upon his un- 
 failing willingness and great strength by making 
 him carry the heaviest trunks up three or four 
 flights of stairs. 
 
 One day the shadow of death that was 
 stealing southward passed over the house con- 
 taining so much life, and happiness, and wealth, 
 and beauty. The train passed as usual, and 
 among the passengers who alighted was a 
 man who walked to the counter in a weary, 
 38
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 uncertain manner. One or two persons were 
 present who knew him, and upon grasping his 
 hand they found that it was cold. This was 
 strange, for the day was very hot. In his 
 eyes was a look of restlessness and anxiety, but 
 he said that he had only a pain across the 
 forehead, and that after needed rest it would 
 pass away. He was conducted to a room, and 
 there he fell across the bed, quite worn out, 
 he said. He complained of slight cramps in 
 the legs and thought that they had been caused 
 by climbing the stairs. After a half-hour had 
 passed he rang his bell violently and sent for 
 the resident physician. That gentleman went 
 to see him, and after remaining a few minutes 
 went to the office, looking anxious and pale. 
 He was a tall, quiet man, with white hair. 
 He asked for Mr. Clayton, but when he was 
 informed that that gentleman was temporarily 
 absent he asked for Baker. 
 
 " Is your patient very ill, doftor ?" inquired 
 the cashier, privately and with a certain dread. 
 
 " I want Baker," said the dodlor, somewhat 
 shortly. 
 
 " Nothing serious, I hope." 
 
 " Send me Baker instantly." 
 
 The physician had a secret of life and 
 death. To treat it wisely he required confi- 
 39
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 dants of courage, sagacity, patience, taft, and 
 prompt aftion. There were only two to 
 whom he should impart it, one was the pro- 
 prietor and the other the man from Georgia. 
 
 When Baker had come the physician led 
 him up-stairs to the floor which held the pa- 
 tient's room, brought him to the window at 
 the end of the corridor and turned him so 
 that the light fell full upon his face. 
 
 " Baker, can you keep a secret ?" 
 
 " Me ?" 
 
 " Yes ; can you keep a secret ?" 
 
 " Well, let me tell you about it ; I don't 
 know; mebbe I can." 
 
 " Have you ever seen people die ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir !" 
 
 " A great many in the same house ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; yes, sir." 
 
 "Baker," said the physician, placing his 
 hand gently on the broad shoulder before him, 
 and looking the man earnestly in the eyes, and 
 speaking very impressively " Baker, are you 
 afraid to die ? " 
 
 " Me ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Die ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 There was no expression whatever upon 
 40
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 his patient, gentle face. He gazed past the 
 physician through the window and made no 
 reply. 
 
 " Are you afraid of death, Baker ?" 
 
 "Who? Me?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 There was no sign that he would answer 
 the question or even that he comprehended it. 
 He shifted his gaze to his upturned boot-toes 
 and communed with them, but still kept si- 
 lence. 
 
 " There is a man here, Baker, who is very 
 ill, and I think that he will die. I want some 
 one to help me take care of him. If you go 
 into his room, perhaps you, too, will die. Are 
 you afraid to go ?" 
 
 " Was you a-talkin' 'bout wantin' me to 
 wait on him ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 A brighter look came into Baker's face and 
 he said : 
 
 " Oh, now, I'll tell you ; I'll go." 
 
 They entered the stranger's room and found 
 him suffering terribly. The physician already 
 had put him under vigorous treatment, but he 
 was rapidly growing worse. Baker regarded 
 him attentively a moment, and then felt his 
 pulse and put his hand on the sufferer's fore-
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 head. A look of intelligence came into his 
 sad, earnest face, but there was not a trace of 
 pallor or fear. He beckoned the physician to 
 follow him out to the passage, and the two 
 went aside, closing the door. 
 
 " He's a-goin' to die," said Baker, simply 
 and quietly. 
 
 " Yes ; but how do you know ?" 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you about that ; I know." 
 
 " Have you seen it before ?" 
 
 " Hunderds." 
 
 " Are you afraid of it ?" 
 
 " Me ?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Oh, well, they all ought to know it," he 
 said, with a sweep of his hand towards the 
 corridors. 
 
 " Hurry and find Mr. Clayton first and 
 bring him to me." 
 
 Baker met Mr. Clayton at the main entrance 
 below and beckoned him to follow. He led 
 the way into a dark room stored with boxes 
 and then into the farther corner of it. There 
 he stood Mr. Clayton with his back against 
 the wall and looked straight into his face. 
 His manner was so mysterious, and there was 
 so strange an expression in his face, a kind 
 of empty exaltation it seemed, and his fa- 
 42
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 miliarity in touching Mr. Clayton's person 
 was so extraordinary, that that gentleman was 
 alarmed for Baker's sanity. Then Baker leaned 
 forward and whispered one terrible word, 
 
 "Cbolery!" 
 
 Cholera ! Great God ! No wonder that 
 Mr. Clayton turned deathly pale and leaned 
 heavily against the wall. 
 
 At midnight the stranger died, and none in 
 the house had heard of the frightful danger 
 which had come to assail them. The physi- 
 cian and Baker had been with him constantly, 
 but their efforts had availed nothing ; and after 
 preparing him for the grave they went out and 
 locked the door. Mr. Clayton was waiting 
 for them. The anxious look in the faces of 
 the two gentlemen was intensified; Baker's 
 evinced nothing but calm consciousness of re- 
 sponsibility. The guests were slumbering. 
 
 " We must alarm the house," whispered 
 Mr. Clayton. 
 
 The doctor shook his head sadly. " If we 
 do," he said, " there will be a panic ; and, 
 besides, the night air of these mountains is very 
 cool, and if they go from their warm beds into 
 it, likely without taking time to dress, the dan- 
 ger will be great." 
 
 They both seemed helpless and undecided, 
 43
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 and in need of some one to choose between 
 two evils for them. They turned to Baker in 
 silence and for his decision. He seemed to 
 have expefted it, for without a word, without 
 submitting it for their concurrence, he went to 
 the end of that passage and rapped upon a 
 door. There was an answer, Baker men- 
 tioned his name, the door was opened, and 
 the dreadful news was quietly imparted. The 
 guest was terror-stricken, but a word from 
 Baker gave him heart, and he hastily but 
 quietly began preparations to leave the house. 
 Thus went Baker from one door to another, 
 imposing silence and care and careful dressing, 
 and advising the people to take with them 
 such bedding as they could. Mr. Clayton and 
 the physician, observing the remarkable suc- 
 cess of Baker's method, adopted it, and soon 
 the three men had the great house swarming. 
 It was done swiftly, quietly, and without 
 panic, and the house became empty. 
 
 But selfishness appeared without shame or 
 covering. Every one in the house wanted 
 Baker's assistance, for all the porters had fled, 
 and there was none other than he to work. 
 So he staggered and toiled under the weight 
 of enormous trunks; listened to a hundred 
 orders at once ; bore frightened children and 
 44
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 fainting women in his strong, sure arms ; 
 labored until his face was haggard and his 
 knees trembled from exhaustion. He did the 
 work of fifty men a hundred men. 
 
 The seeds of the plague had been sown. 
 Towards morning the physician retired to his 
 room, stricken down. Baker administered to 
 his needs, and discovered a surprising knowl- 
 edge of the malady and its treatment. A few 
 of those who had scattered about in the sur- 
 rounding hills were taken down and brought 
 to the house moaning with fear and pain. 
 Baker treated them all. Mr. Clayton and a 
 few other stout hearts provided him with 
 whatever he ordered, and assisted in watching 
 and in administering the simple remedies un- 
 der his direction. These were such as the 
 resources of the hotel permitted, warm blan- 
 kets, hot brandy, with water and sugar, or 
 pepper and salt in hot water, heated bricks at 
 the feet, and rubbing the body with spirits of 
 camphor. Many recovered, others grew worse ; 
 the physician was saved. 
 
 At sunrise, while Baker was working vigor- 
 ously on a patient, he suddenly straightened 
 himself, looked around somewhat anxiously, 
 and reeled backward to the wall. The strong 
 man had collapsed at last. Leaning against 
 45
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 the partition, and spreading out his arms 
 against it to keep from falling, he worked his 
 way a few feet to the door, and when he turned 
 to go out his hand slipped on the door-facing 
 and he fell heavily upon his face in the pas- 
 sage. He lay still for a moment, and then 
 crawled slowly to the end of the passage and 
 lay down. He had not said a word nor uttered 
 a groan. It was there, silent, alone, and un- 
 complaining, that Mr. Clayton found this last 
 viftim of the plague waiting patiently for 
 death. Others were hastily summoned. They 
 put him upon a bed, and were going to undress 
 him and treat him, but he firmly stopped them 
 with uplifted hand, and his sunken eyes and 
 anxious face implored more eloquently than his 
 words, when he said : 
 
 " No, no ! Now, let me tell you : Go an' 
 take care of 'em." 
 
 Mr. Clayton sent them away, he alone re- 
 maining. 
 
 " Here, Baker ; take this," he gently urged. 
 
 But the man from Georgia knew better. 
 " No, no," he said ; " it won't do no good." 
 His speech was faint and labored. " I'll tell 
 you : I'm struck too hard. It won't do no good. 
 I'm so tired. . . . I'll go quick . . . 'cause 
 I'm ... so tired." 
 
 46
 
 THE HERO OF THE PLAGUE 
 
 His extreme exhaustion made him an easy 
 prey. Death sat upon his face, and was re- 
 flefted from his hollow, suffering, mournful 
 eyes. In an hour they were dimmer ; then he 
 became cold and purple. In another hour his 
 pulse was not perceptible. After two more 
 hours his agony had passed. 
 
 " Baker, do you want anything ?" asked Mr. 
 Clayton, trying to rouse him. 
 
 < M e ? ver y faintly came the response. 
 
 " Yes. Do you want anything ?" 
 
 " Oh, . . . I'll tell you : The governor 
 ... he found out my brother . . . done it 
 . . . an* . . . an' he's goin' to ... pardon 
 me. . . . Fifteen years, an' played off . . . 
 played off crazy. . . . Forty lashes every 
 Monday . . . mornin'. . . . Cell hunder'd'n 
 one's mine. . . . Well, I'll tell you: Governor's 
 goin' to ... pardon me out." 
 
 He ceased his struggling to speak. A half- 
 hour passed in silence, and then he roused him- 
 self feebly and whispered : 
 
 " He'll . . . pardon . . . me." 
 
 The old boots stared blankly and coldly at 
 the ceiling ; their patient expression no longer 
 bore a trace of life or suffering, and their calm 
 repose was undisturbed by the song of the 
 mocking-bird in the oriel. 
 47
 
 His Unconquerable Enemy 
 Mi 
 
 I WAS summoned from Calcutta to the 
 heart of India to perform a difficult surgi- 
 cal operation on one of the women of a great 
 rajah's household. I found the rajah a man 
 of a noble character, but possessed, as I after- 
 wards discovered, of a sense of cruelty purely 
 Oriental and in contrast to the indolence of 
 his disposition. He was so grateful for the 
 success that attended my mission that he urged 
 me to remain a guest at the palace as long as 
 it might please me to stay, and I thankfully 
 accepted the invitation. 
 
 One of the male servants early attracted my 
 notice for his marvellous capacity of malice. 
 His name was Neranya, and I am certain that 
 there must have been a large proportion of 
 Malay blood in his veins, for, unlike the In- 
 dians (from whom he differed also in com- 
 plexion), he was extremely alert, aftive, 
 nervous, and sensitive. A redeeming circum- 
 stance was his love for his master. Once his 
 violent temper led him to the commission of 
 48
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 an atrocious crime, the fatal stabbing of a 
 dwarf. In punishment for this the rajah or- 
 dered that Neranya's right arm (the offending 
 one) be severed from his body. The sentence 
 was executed in a bungling fashion by a stupid 
 fellow armed with an axe, and I, being a 
 surgeon, was compelled, in order to save 
 Neranya's life, to perform an amputation of 
 the stump, leaving not a vestige of the limb 
 remaining. 
 
 After this he developed an augmented fiend- 
 ishness. His love for the rajah was changed 
 to hate, and in his mad anger he flung discre- 
 tion to the winds. Driven once to frenzy by 
 the rajah's scornful treatment, he sprang upon 
 the rajah with a knife, but, fortunately, was 
 seized and disarmed. To his unspeakable 
 dismay the rajah sentenced him for this offence 
 to suffer amputation of the remaining arm. It 
 was done as in the former instance. This 
 had the effecl: of putting a temporary curb on 
 Neranya's spirit, or, rather, of changing the 
 outward manifestations of his diabolism. Being 
 armless, he was at first largely at the mercy of 
 those who ministered to his needs, a duty 
 which I undertook to see was properly dis- 
 charged, for I felt an interest in this strangely 
 distorted nature. His sense of helplessness, 
 4 49
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 combined with a damnable scheme for revenge 
 which he had secretly formed, caused Neranya 
 to change his fierce, impetuous, and unruly 
 conduct into a smooth, quiet, insinuating 
 bearing, which he carried so artfully as to 
 deceive those with whom he was brought in 
 contaft, including the rajah himself. 
 
 Neranya, being exceedingly quick, intelli- 
 gent, and dexterous, and having an unconquer- 
 able will, turned his attention to the cultivat- 
 ing of an enlarged usefulness of his legs, feet, 
 and toes, with so excellent effeft that in time 
 he was able to perform wonderful feats with 
 those members. Thus his capability, espe- 
 cially for destructive mischief, was considera- 
 bly restored. 
 
 One morning the rajah's only son, a young 
 man of an uncommonly amiable and noble dis- 
 position, was found dead in bed. His murder 
 was a most atrocious one, his body being mu- 
 tilated in a shocking manner, but in my eyes 
 the most significant of all the mutilations was 
 the entire removal and disappearance of the 
 young prince's arms. 
 
 The death of the young man nearly brought 
 
 the rajah to the grave. It was not, therefore, 
 
 until I had nursed him back to health that I 
 
 began a systematic inquiry into the murder. I 
 
 So
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 said nothing of my own discoveries and con- 
 clusions until after the rajah and his officers 
 had failed and my work had been done ; then 
 I submitted to him a written report, making a 
 close analysis of all the circumstances and 
 closing by charging the crime to Neranya. 
 The rajah, convinced by my proof and argu- 
 ment, at once ordered Neranya to be put to 
 death, this to be accomplished slowly and 
 with frightful tortures. The sentence was so 
 cruel and revolting that it filled me with 
 horror, and I implored that the wretch be 
 shot. Finally, through a sense of gratitude to 
 me, the rajah relaxed. When Neranya was 
 charged with the crime he denied it, of course, 
 but, seeing that the rajah was convinced, he 
 threw aside all restraint, and, dancing, laugh- 
 ing, and shrieking in the most horrible man- 
 ner, confessed his guilt, gloated over it, and 
 reviled the rajah to his teeth, this, knowing 
 that some fearful death awaited him. 
 
 The rajah decided upon the details of the 
 matter that night, and in the morning he 
 informed me of his decision. It was that 
 Neranya's life should be spared, but that both 
 of his legs should be broken with hammers, 
 and that then I should amputate the limbs at 
 the trunk ! Appended to this horrible sen- 
 Si
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 tence was a provision that the maimed wretch 
 should be kept and tortured at regular inter- 
 vals by such means as afterwards might be 
 devised. 
 
 Sickened to the heart by the awful duty set 
 out for me, I nevertheless performed it with 
 success, and I care to say nothing more about 
 that part of the tragedy. Neranya escaped 
 death very narrowly and was a long time in 
 recovering his wonted vitality. During all 
 these weeks the rajah neither saw him nor 
 made inquiries concerning him, but when, as 
 in duty bound, I made official report that the 
 man had recovered his strength, the rajah's 
 eyes brightened, and he emerged with deadly 
 activity from the stupor into which he so long 
 had been plunged. 
 
 The rajah's palace was a noble structure, 
 but it is necessary here to describe only the 
 grand hall. It was an immense chamber, with 
 a floor oi" polished, inlaid stone and a lofty, 
 arched ceiling. A soft light stole into it 
 through stained glass set in the roof and in 
 high windows on one side. In the middle of 
 the room was a rich fountain, which threw up 
 a tall, slender column of water, with smaller 
 and shorter jets grouped around it. Across 
 one end of the hall, half-way to the ceiling, 
 52
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 was a balcony, which communicated with the 
 upper story of a wing, and from which a flight 
 of stone stairs descended to the floor of the 
 hall. During the hot summers this room was 
 delightfully cool ; it was the rajah's favorite 
 lounging-place, and when the nights were hot 
 he had his cot taken thither, and there he 
 slept. 
 
 This hall was chosen for Neranya's perma- 
 nent prison ; here was he to stay so long as he 
 might live, with never a glimpse of the shining 
 world or the glorious heavens. To one of his 
 nervous, discontented nature such confinement 
 was worse than death. At the rajah's order 
 there was constructed for him a small pen of 
 open iron-work, circular, and about four feet 
 in diameter, elevated on four slender iron posts, 
 ten feet above the floor, and placed between 
 the balcony and the fountain. Such was Ne- 
 ranya's prison. The pen was about four feet 
 in depth, and the pen-top was left open for 
 the convenience of the servants whose duty it 
 should be to care for him. These precautions 
 for his safe confinement were taken at my sug- 
 gestion, for, although the man was now de- 
 prived of all four of his limbs, I still feared 
 that he might develop some extraordinary, 
 unheard-of power for mischief. It was pro- 
 53
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 vided that the attendants should reach his cage 
 by means of a movable ladder. 
 
 All these arrangements having been made 
 and Neranya hoisted into his cage, the rajah 
 emerged upon the balcony to see him for the 
 first time since the last amputation. Neranya 
 had been lying panting and helpless on the 
 floor of his cage, but when his quick ear caught 
 the sound of the rajah's footfall he squirmed 
 about until he had brought the back of his head 
 against the railing, elevating his eyes above his 
 chest, and enabling him to peer through the 
 open-work of the cage. Thus the two deadly 
 enemies faced each other. The rajah's stern 
 face paled at sight of the hideous, shapeless 
 thing which met his gaze ; but he soon recov- 
 ered, and the old hard, cruel, sinister look 
 returned. Neranya's black hair and beard had 
 grown long, and they added to the natural 
 ferocity of his aspect. His eyes blazed upon 
 the rajah with a terrible light, his lips parted, 
 and he gasped for breath ; his face was ashen 
 with rage and despair, and his thin, distended 
 nostrils quivered. 
 
 The rajah folded his arms and gazed down 
 
 from the balcony upon the frightful wreck that 
 
 he had made. Oh, the dreadful pathos of that 
 
 pifture ; the inhumanity of it ; the deep and 
 
 54
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 dismal tragedy of it ! Who might look into 
 the wild, despairing heart of the prisoner and 
 see and understand the frightful turmoil there ; 
 the surging, choking passion ; unbridled but 
 impotent ferocity ; frantic thirst for a vengeance 
 that should be deeper than hell ! Neranya 
 gazed, his shapeless body heaving, his eyes 
 aflame ; and then, in a strong, clear voice, 
 which rang throughout the great hall, with 
 rapid speech he hurled at the rajah the most 
 insulting defiance, the most awful curses. He 
 cursed the womb that had conceived him, the 
 food that should nourish him, the wealth that 
 had brought him power ; cursed him in the 
 name of Buddha and all the wise men ; cursed 
 by the sun, the moon, and the stars ; by the 
 continents, mountains, oceans, and rivers ; by 
 all things living ; cursed his head, his heart, his 
 entrails ; cursed in a whirlwind of unmention- 
 able words ; heaped unimaginable insults and 
 contumely upon him ; called him a knave, a 
 beast, a fool, a liar, an infamous and unspeak- 
 able coward. 
 
 The rajah heard it all calmly, without the 
 movement of a muscle, without the slightest 
 change of countenance ; and when the poor 
 wretch had exhausted his strength and fallen 
 helpless and silent to the floor, the rajah, 
 55
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 with a grim, cold smile, turned and strode 
 away. 
 
 The days passed. The rajah, not deterred 
 by Neranya's curses often heaped upon him, 
 spent even more time than formerly in the 
 great hall, and slept there oftener at night ; and 
 finally Neranya wearied of cursing and defy- 
 ing him, and fell into a sullen silence. The 
 man was a study for me, and I observed every 
 change in his fleeting moods. Generally his 
 condition was that of miserable despair, which 
 he attempted bravely to conceal. Even the 
 boon of suicide had been denied him, for when 
 he would wriggle into an ereft position the rail 
 of his pen was a foot above his head, so that 
 he could not clamber over and break his skull 
 on the stone floor beneath ; and when he had 
 tried to starve himself the attendants forced 
 food down his throat ; so that he abandoned 
 such attempts. At times his eyes would blaze 
 and his breath would come in gasps, for imagi- 
 nary vengeance was working within him ; but 
 steadily he became quieter and more traftable, 
 and was pleasant and responsive when I would 
 converse with him. Whatever might have 
 been the tortures which the rajah had de- 
 cided on, none as yet had been ordered ; and 
 although Neranya knew that they were in 
 56
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 contemplation, he never referred to them or 
 complained of his lot. 
 
 The awful climax of this situation was 
 reached one night, and even after this lapse of 
 years I cannot approach its description without 
 a shudder. 
 
 It was a hot night, and the rajah had gone 
 to sleep in the great hall, lying on a high cot 
 placed on the main floor just underneath the 
 edge of the balcony. I had been unable to 
 sleep in my own apartment, and so I had stolen 
 into the great hall through the heavily curtained 
 entrance at the end farthest from the balcony. 
 As I entered I heard a peculiar, soft sound above 
 the patter of the fountain. Neranya's cage was 
 partly concealed from my view by the spraying 
 water, but I suspefted that the unusual sound 
 came from him. Stealing a little to one side, 
 and crouching against the dark hangings of the 
 wall, I could see him in the faint light which 
 dimly illuminated the hall, and then I discov- 
 ered that my surmise was correct Neranya 
 was quietly at work. Curious to learn more, 
 and knowing that only mischief could have 
 been inspiring him, I sank into a thick robe on 
 the floor and watched him. 
 
 To my great astonishment Neranya was 
 tearing off" with his teeth the bag which served 
 57
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 as his outer garment. He did it cautiously, 
 casting sharp glances frequently at the rajah, 
 who, sleeping soundly on his cot below, 
 breathed heavily. After starting a strip with 
 his teeth, Neranya, by the same means, would 
 attach it to the railing of his cage and then 
 wriggle away, much after the manner of a cat- 
 erpillar's crawling, and this would cause the 
 strip to be torn out the full length of his gar- 
 ment. He repeated this operation with in- 
 credible patience and skill until his entire 
 garment had been torn into strips. Two or 
 three of these he tied end to end with his 
 teeth, lips, and tongue, tightening the knots by 
 placing one end of the strip under his body 
 and drawing the other taut with his teeth. In 
 this way he made a line several feet long, one 
 end of which he made fast to the rail with his 
 mouth. It then began to dawn upon me that 
 he was going to make an insane attempt im- 
 possible of achievement without hands, feet, 
 arms, or legs to escape from his cage ! For 
 what purpose ? The rajah was asleep in the 
 hall ah ! I caught my breath. Oh, the des- 
 perate, insane thirst for revenge which could 
 have unhinged so clear and firm a mind ! Even 
 though he should accomplish the impossible 
 feat of climbing over the railing of his cage 
 58
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 that he might fall to the floor below (for how 
 could he slide down the rope ?), he would be 
 in all probability killed or stunned ; and even 
 if he should escape these dangers it would be 
 impossible for him to clamber upon the cot 
 without rousing the rajah, and impossible even 
 though the rajah were dead ! Amazed at the 
 man's daring, and convinced that his suffer- 
 ings and brooding had destroyed his reason, 
 nevertheless I watched him with breathless 
 interest. 
 
 With other strips tied together he made a 
 short swing across one side of his cage. He 
 caught the long line in his teeth at a point not 
 far from the rail ; then, wriggling with great 
 effort to an upright position, his back braced 
 against the rail, he put his chin over the swing 
 and worked toward one end. He tightened 
 the grasp of his chin on the swing, and with 
 tremendous exertion, working the lower end 
 of his spine against the railing, he began grad- 
 ually to ascend the side of his cage. The 
 labor was so great that he was compelled to 
 pause at intervals, and his breathing was hard 
 and painful ; and even while thus resting he was 
 in a position of terrible strain, and his push- 
 ing against the swing caused it to press hard 
 against his windpipe and nearly strangle him. 
 59
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 After amazing effort he had elevated the 
 lower end of his body until it protruded above 
 the railing, the top of which was now across 
 the lower end of his abdomen. Gradually he 
 worked his body over, going backward, until 
 there was sufficient excess of weight on the 
 outer side of the rail ; and then, with a quick 
 lurch, he raised his head and shoulders and 
 swung into a horizontal position on top of the 
 rail. Of course, he would have fallen to the 
 floor below had it not been for the line which 
 he held in his teeth. With so great nicety had 
 he estimated the distance between his mouth 
 and the point where the rope was fastened to 
 the rail, that the line tightened and checked 
 him just as he reached the horizontal position 
 on the rail. If one had told me beforehand 
 that such a feat as I had just seen this man 
 accomplish was possible, I should have thought 
 him a fool. 
 
 Neranya was now balanced on his stomach 
 across the top of the rail, and he eased his 
 position by bending his spine and hanging 
 down on either side as much as possible. 
 Having rested thus for some minutes, he began 
 cautiously to slide off backward, slowly pay- 
 ing out the line through his teeth, finding al- 
 most a fatal difficulty in passing the knots. 
 60
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 Now, it is quite possible that the line would 
 have escaped altogether from his teeth laterally 
 when he would slightly relax his hold to let 
 it slip, had it not been for a very ingenious 
 plan to which he had resorted. This consisted 
 in his having made a turn of the line around 
 his neck before he attacked the swing, thus 
 securing a threefold control of the line, one 
 by his teeth, another by friftion against his 
 neck, and a third by his ability to compress it 
 between his cheek and shoulder. It was quite 
 evident now that the minutest details of a most 
 elaborate plan had been carefully worked out 
 by him before beginning the task, and that 
 possibly weeks of difficult theoretical study 
 had been consumed in the mental preparation. 
 As I observed him I was reminded of certain 
 hitherto unaccountable things which he had 
 been doing for some weeks past going through 
 certain hitherto inexplicable motions, undoubt- 
 edly for the purpose of training his muscles 
 for the immeasurably arduous labor which he 
 was now performing. 
 
 A stupendous and seemingly impossible part 
 of his task had been accomplished. Could he 
 reach the floor in safety ? Gradually he worked 
 himself backward over the rail, in imminent 
 danger of falling ; but his nerve never wavered, 
 61
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 and I could see a wonderful light in his eyes. 
 With something of a lurch, his body fell against 
 the outer side of the railing, to which he was 
 hanging by his chin, the line still held firmly 
 in his teeth. Slowly he slipped his chin from 
 the rail, and then hung suspended by the line 
 in his teeth. By almost imperceptible degrees, 
 with infinite caution, he descended the line, 
 and, finally, his unwieldy body rolled upon the 
 floor, safe and unhurt ! 
 
 Whal miracle would this superhuman mon- 
 ster next accomplish ? I was quick and strong, 
 and was ready and able to intercept any dan- 
 gerous aft ; but not until danger appeared 
 would I interfere with this extraordinary 
 scene. 
 
 I must confess to astonishment upon having 
 observed that Neranya, instead of proceeding 
 direftly toward the sleeping rajah, took quite 
 another direftion. Then it was only escape, 
 after all, that the wretch contemplated, and not 
 the murder of the rajah. But how could he 
 escape ? The only possible way to reach the 
 outer air without great risk was by ascending 
 the stairs to the balcony and leaving by the 
 corridor which opened upon it, and thus fall 
 into the hands of some British soldiers quar- 
 tered thereabout, who might conceive the idea 
 62
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 of hiding him ; but surely it was impossible 
 for Neranya to ascend that long flight of stairs ! 
 Nevertheless, he made diredtly for them, his 
 method of progression this : He lay upon his 
 back, with the lower end of his body toward 
 the stairs ; then bowed his spine upward, thus 
 drawing his head and shoulders a little forward ; 
 straightened, and then pushed the lower end 
 of his body forward a space equal to that 
 through which he had drawn his head ; repeat- 
 ing this again and again, each time, while 
 bending his spine, preventing his head from 
 slipping by pressing it against the floor. His 
 progress was laborious and slow, but sensi- 
 ble ; and, finally, he arrived at the foot of the 
 stairs. 
 
 It was manifest that his insane purpose was 
 to ascend them. The desire for freedom must 
 have been strong within him ! Wriggling to 
 an upright position against the newel-post, he 
 looked up at the great height which he had to 
 climb and sighed ; but there was no dimming 
 of the light in his eyes. How could he accom- 
 plish the impossible task ? 
 
 His solution of the problem was very sim- 
 ple, though daring and perilous as all the rest. 
 While leaning against the newel-post he let 
 himself fall diagonally upon the bottom step, 
 63
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 where he lay partly hanging over, but safe, on 
 his side. Turning upon his back, he wriggled 
 forward along the step to the rail and raised 
 himself to an upright position against it as he 
 had against the newel-post, fell as before, and 
 landed on the second step. In this manner, 
 with inconceivable labor, he accomplished the 
 ascent of the entire flight of stairs. 
 
 It being apparent to me that the rajah was 
 not the objedl of Neranya's movements, the 
 anxiety which I had felt on that account was 
 now entirely dissipated. The things which 
 already he had accomplished were entirely be- 
 yond the nimblest imagination. The sympa- 
 thy which I had always felt for the wretched 
 man was now greatly quickened ; and as infin- 
 itesimally small as I knew his chances for es- 
 cape to be, I nevertheless hoped that he would 
 succeed. Any assistance from me, however, 
 was out of the question ; and it never should 
 be known that I had witnessed the escape. 
 
 Neranya was now upon the balcony, and I 
 could dimly see him wriggling along toward 
 the door which led out upon the balcony. 
 Finally he stopped and wriggled to an upright 
 position against the rail, which had wide open- 
 ings between the balusters. His back was 
 toward me, but he slowly turned and faced me 
 64
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 and the hall. At that great distance I could 
 not distinguish his features, but the slowness 
 with which he had worked, even before he had 
 fully accomplished the ascent of the stairs, was 
 evidence all too eloquent of his extreme ex- 
 haustion. Nothing but a most desperate res- 
 olution could have sustained him thus far, but 
 he had drawn upon the last remnant of his 
 strength. He looked around the hall with a 
 sweeping glance, and then down upon the 
 rajah, who was sleeping immediately beneath 
 him, over twenty feet below. He looked long 
 and earnestly, sinking lower, and lower, and 
 lower upon the rail. Suddenly, to my incon- 
 ceivable astonishment and dismay, he toppled 
 through and shot downward from his lofty 
 height ! I held my breath, expefting to see 
 him crushed upon the stone floor beneath ; but 
 instead of that he fell full upon the rajah's 
 breast, driving him through the cot to the 
 floor. I sprang forward with a loud cry for 
 help, and was instantly at the scene of the 
 catastrophe. With indescribable horror I saw 
 that Neranya's teeth were buried in the rajah's 
 throat ! I tore the wretch away, but the blood 
 was pouring from the rajah's arteries, his chest 
 was crushed in, and he was gasping in the 
 agony of death. People came running in, ter- 
 
 5 6 5
 
 HIS UNCONQUERABLE ENEMY 
 
 rifled. I turned to Neranya. He lay upon 
 his back, his face hideously smeared with blood. 
 Murder, and not escape, had been his inten- 
 tions from the beginning ; and he had employed 
 the only method by which there was ever a 
 possibility of accomplishing it. I knelt be- 
 side him, and saw that he too was dying ; his 
 back had been broken by the fall. He smiled 
 sweetly into my face, and a triumphant look 
 of accomplished revenge sat upon his face even 
 in death. 
 
 66
 
 The Permanent Stiletto 
 
 I HAD sent in all haste for Dr. Rowell, but 
 as yet he had not arrived, and the strain 
 was terrible. There lay my young friend 
 upon his bed in the hotel, and I believed that 
 he was dying. Only the jewelled handle of 
 the knife was visible at his breast ; the blade 
 was wholly sheathed in his body. 
 
 " Pull it out, old fellow," begged the suf- 
 ferer through white, drawn lips, his gasping 
 voice being hardly less distressing than the 
 unearthly look in his eyes. 
 
 " No, Arnold," said I, as I held his hand 
 and gently stroked his forehead. It may have 
 been instinft, it may have been a certain 
 knowledge of anatomy that made me refuse. 
 
 " Why not ? It hurts," he gasped. It was 
 pitiful to see him suffer, this strong, healthy, 
 daring, reckless young fellow. 
 
 Dr. Rowell walked in a tall, grave man, 
 
 with gray hair. He went to the bed and I 
 
 pointed to the knife-handle, with its great, 
 
 bold ruby in the end and its diamonds and 
 
 67
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 emeralds alternating in quaint designs in the 
 sides. The physician started. He felt Ar- 
 nold's pulse and looked puzzled. 
 
 " When was this done ?" he asked. 
 
 " About twenty minutes ago," I answered. 
 
 The physician started out, beckoning me to 
 follow. 
 
 " Stop !" said Arnold. We obeyed. " Do 
 you wish to speak of me ?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes," replied the physician, hesitating. 
 
 " Speak in my presence then," said my 
 friend ; " I fear nothing." It was said in his 
 old, imperious way, although his suffering 
 must have been great. 
 
 " If you insist " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 "Then," said the physician, ''if you have 
 any matters to adjust they should be attended 
 to at once. I can do nothing for you." 
 
 " How long can I live ?" asked Arnold. 
 
 The physician thoughtfully stroked his gray 
 beard. " It depends," he finally said ; " if 
 the knife be withdrawn you may live three 
 minutes ; if it be allowed to remain you may 
 possibly live an hour or two not longer." 
 
 Arnold never flinched. 
 
 " Thank you," he said, smiling faintly 
 through his pain ; " my friend here will pay 
 68
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 you. I have some things to do. Let the 
 knife remain." He turned his eyes to mine, 
 and, pressing my hand, said, affectionately, 
 " And I thank you, too, old fellow, for not 
 pulling it out." 
 
 The physician, moved by a sense of deli- 
 cacy, left the room, saying, " Ring if there is 
 a change. I will be in the hotel office." He 
 had not gone far when he turned and came 
 back. " Pardon me," said he, " but there is 
 a young surgeon in the hotel who is said to be 
 a very skilful man. My specialty is not sur- 
 gery, but medicine. May I call him ?" 
 
 " Yes," said I, eagerly ; but Arnold smiled 
 and shook his head. " I fear there will not 
 be time," he said. But I refused to heed him 
 and direfted that the surgeon be called imme- 
 diately. I was writing at Arnold's diftation 
 when the two men entered the room. 
 
 There was something of nerve and assurance 
 in the young surgeon that struck my attention. 
 His manner, though quiet, was bold and 
 straightforward and his movements sure and 
 quick. This young man had already distin- 
 guished himself in the performance of some 
 difficult hospital laparotomies, and he was at 
 that sanguine age when ambition looks through 
 the spectacles of experiment. Dr. Raoul 
 69
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 Entrefort was the new-comer's name. He 
 was a Creole, small and dark, and he had trav- 
 elled and studied in Europe. 
 
 " Speak freely," gasped Arnold, after Dr. 
 Entrefort had made an examination. 
 
 " What think you, doftor?" asked Entrefort 
 of the older man. 
 
 " I think," was the reply, " that the knife- 
 blade has penetrated the ascending aorta, about 
 two inches above the heart. So long as the 
 blade remains in the wound the escape of 
 blood is comparatively small, though certain ; 
 were the blade withdrawn the heart would 
 almost instantly empty itself through the 
 aortal wound." 
 
 Meanwhile, Entrefort was deftly cutting 
 away the white shirt and the undershirt, and 
 soon had the breast exposed. He examined 
 the gem-studded hilt with the keenest interest. 
 
 " You are proceeding on the assumption, 
 doftor," he said, " that this weapon is a 
 knife." 
 
 " Certainly," answered Dr. Rowell, smil- 
 ing ; " what else can it be ?" 
 
 " It is a knife," faintly interposed Arnold. 
 
 " Did you see the blade ?" Entrefort asked 
 him, quickly. 
 
 " I did for a moment." 
 70
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 Entrefort shot a quick look at Dr. Rowell 
 and whispered, " Then it is not suicide." 
 Dr. Rowell looked puzzled and said nothing. 
 
 "I must disagree with you, gentlemen," 
 quietly remarked Entrefort ; " this is not a 
 knife." He examined the handle very nar- 
 rowly. Not only was the blade entirely con- 
 cealed from view within Arnold's body, but 
 the blow had been so strongly delivered that 
 the skin was depressed by the guard. " The 
 faft that it is not a knife presents a very curi- 
 ous series of fafts and contingencies," pursued 
 Entrefort, with amazing coolness, " some of 
 which are, so far as I am informed, entirely 
 novel in the history of surgery." 
 
 A quizzical expression, faintly amused and 
 manifestly interested, was upon Dr. RowelPs 
 face. " What is the weapon, doftor ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " A stiletto." 
 
 Arnold started. Dr. Rowell appeared con- 
 fused. " I must confess," he said, " my igno- 
 rance of the differences among these penetrat- 
 ing weapons, whether dirks, daggers, stilettos, 
 poniards, or bowie-knives." 
 
 " With the exception of the stiletto," ex- 
 plained Entrefort, "all the weapons you 
 mention have one or two edges, so that in
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 penetrating they cut their way. A stiletto is 
 round, is ordinarily about half an inch or less 
 in diameter at the guard, and tapers to a sharp 
 point. It penetrates solely by pushing the 
 tissues aside in all directions. You will under- 
 stand the importance of that point." 
 
 Dr. Rowell nodded, more deeply interested 
 than ever. 
 
 "How do you know it is a stiletto, Dr. 
 Entrefort ?" I asked. 
 
 " The cutting of these stones is the work 
 of Italian lapidaries," he said, " and they were 
 set in Genoa. Notice, too, the guard. It is 
 much broader and shorter than the guard of 
 an edged weapon ; in faft, it is nearly round. 
 This weapon is about four hundred years old, 
 and would be cheap at twenty thousand 
 florins. Observe, also, the darkening color 
 of your friend's breast in the immediate vicin- 
 ity of the guard ; this indicates that the tissues 
 have been bruised by the crowding of the 
 ' blade,' if I may use the term." 
 
 " What has all this to do with me ?" asked 
 the dying man. 
 
 " Perhaps a great deal, perhaps nothing. It 
 brings a single ray of hope into your desperate 
 condition." 
 
 Arnold's eyes sparkled and he caught his 
 72
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 breath. A tremor passed all through him, and 
 I felt it in the hand I was holding. Life was 
 sweet to him, then, after all sweet to this 
 wild dare-devil who had just faced death with 
 such calmness ! Dr. Rowell, though showing 
 no sign of jealousy, could not conceal a look 
 of incredulity. 
 
 " With your permission," said Entrefort, 
 addressing Arnold, " I will do what I can to 
 save your life." 
 
 " You may," said the poor boy. 
 
 " But I shall have to hurt you." 
 
 " Well." 
 
 " Perhaps very much." 
 
 " Well. " 
 
 " And even if I succeed (the chance is one 
 in a thousand) you will never be a sound man, 
 and a constant and terrible danger will always 
 be present." 
 
 ".Well." 
 
 Entrefort wrote a note and sent it away in 
 haste by a bell-boy. 
 
 " Meanwhile," he resumed, " your life is in 
 imminent danger from shock, and the end may 
 come in a few minutes or hours from that 
 cause. Attend without delay to whatever 
 matters -may require settling, and Dr. Rowell," 
 glancing at that gentleman, "will give you 
 73
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 something to brace you up. I speak frankly, 
 for I see that you are a man of extraordinary 
 nerve. Am I right ?" 
 
 " Be perfectly candid," said Arnold. 
 
 Dr. Rowell, evidently bewildered by his 
 cyclonic young associate, wrote a prescription, 
 which I sent by a boy to be filled. With 
 unwise zeal I asked Entrefort, 
 
 " Is there not danger of lockjaw ?" 
 
 " No," he replied ; " there is not a suffi- 
 ciently extensive injury tcr peripheral nerves to 
 induce traumatic tetanus." 
 
 I subsided. Dr. Rowell's medicine came 
 and I administered a dose. The physician 
 and the surgeon then retired. The poor suf- 
 ferer straightened up his business. When it 
 was done he asked me, 
 
 " What is that crazy Frenchman going to 
 do to me ?" 
 
 " I have no idea ; be patient." 
 
 In less than an hour they returned, bringing 
 with them a keen-eyed, tall young man, who 
 had a number of tools wrapped in an apron. 
 Evidently he was unused to such scenes, for 
 he became deathly pale upon seeing the 
 ghastly speftacle on my bed. With staring 
 eyes and open mouth he began to retreat 
 towards the door, stammering, 
 74
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 " I I can't do it." 
 
 " Nonsense, Hippolyte ! Don't be a baby. 
 Why, man, it is a case of life and death !" 
 
 " But look at his eyes ! he is dying !" 
 
 Arnold smiled. " I am not dead, though," 
 he gasped. 
 
 " I I beg your pardon," said Hippolyte. 
 
 Dr. Entrefort gave the nervous man a drink 
 of brandy and then said, 
 
 " No more nonsense, my boy ; it must be 
 done. Gentlemen, allow me to introduce 
 Mr. Hippolyte, one of the most original, in- 
 genious, and skilful machinists in the coun- 
 try." 
 
 Hippolyte, being modest, blushed as he 
 bowed. In order to conceal his confusion he 
 unrolled his apron on the table with consid- 
 erable noise of rattling tools. 
 
 " I have to make some preparations before 
 you may begin, Hippolyte, and I want you to 
 observe me that you may become used not 
 only to the sight of fresh blood, but also, what 
 is more trying, the odor of it." 
 
 Hippolyte shivered. Entrefort opened a 
 case of surgical instruments. 
 
 " Now, doftor, the chloroform," he said, 
 to Dr. Rowell. 
 
 " I will not take it," promptly interposed 
 75
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 the sufferer ; " I want to know when I 
 die." 
 
 " Very well," said Entrefort ; " but you 
 have little nerve now to spare. We may try 
 it without chloroform, however. It will be 
 better if you can do without. Try your best 
 to lie still while I cut." 
 
 " What are you going to do ?" asked Ar- 
 nold. 
 
 " Save your life, if possible." 
 
 " How ? Tell me all about it." 
 
 " Must you know ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Very well, then. The point of the sti- 
 letto has passed entirely through the aorta, 
 which is the great vessel rising out of the heart 
 and carrying the aerated blood to the arteries. 
 If I should withdraw the weapon the blood 
 would rush from the two holes in the aorta 
 and you would soon be dead. If the weapon 
 had been a knife, the parted tissue would have 
 yielded, and the blood would have been forced 
 out on either side of the blade and would have 
 caused death. As it is, not a drop of blood 
 has escaped from the aorta into the thoracic cav- 
 ity. All that is left for us to do, then, is to 
 allow the stiletto to remain permanently in the 
 aorta. Many difficulties at once present them- 
 76
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 selves, and I do not wonder at Dr. Rowell's 
 look of surprise and incredulity." 
 
 That gentleman smiled and shook his head. 
 
 " It is a desperate chance," continued En- 
 trefort, " and is a novel case in surgery ; but it 
 is the only chance. The faft that the weapon 
 is a stiletto is the important point a stupid 
 weapon, but a blessing to us now. If the 
 assassin had known more she would have 
 used " 
 
 Upon his employment of the noun " assas- 
 sin" and the feminine pronoun " she," both 
 Arnold and I started violently, and I cried out 
 to the man to stop. 
 
 " Let him proceed," said Arnold, who, by 
 a remarkable effort, had calmed himself. 
 
 " Not if the subjeft is painful," Entrefort 
 said. 
 
 " It is not," protested Arnold ; " why do 
 you think the blow was struck by a woman ?" 
 
 " Because, first, no man capable of being an 
 assassin would use so gaudy and valuable a 
 weapon ; second, no man would be so stupid 
 as to carry so antiquated and inadequate a thing 
 as a stiletto, when that most murderous and 
 satisfactory of all penetrating and cutting weap- 
 ons, the bowie-knife, is available. She was a 
 strong woman, too, for it requires a good hand 
 77
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 to drive a stiletto to the guard, even though it 
 miss the sternum by a hair's breadth and slip 
 between the ribs, for the muscles here are 
 hard and the intercostal spaces narrow. She 
 was not only a strong woman, but a desperate 
 one also." 
 
 " That will do," said Arnold. He beckoned 
 me to bend closer. " You must watch this 
 man ; he is too sharp ; he is dangerous." 
 
 " Then," resumed Entrefort, " I shall tell 
 you what I intend to do. There will undoubt- 
 edly be inflammation of the aorta, which, if it 
 persist, will cause a fatal aneurism by a break- 
 ing down of the aortal walls ; but we hope, 
 with the help of your youth and health, to 
 check it. 
 
 " Another serious difficulty is this : With 
 every inhalation, the entire thorax (or bony 
 structure of the chest) considerably expands. 
 The aorta remains stationary. You will see, 
 therefore, that as your aorta and your breast are 
 now held in rigid relation to each other by the 
 stiletto, the chest, with every inhalation, pulls 
 the aorta forward out of place about half an 
 inch. I am certain that it is doing this, be- 
 cause there is no indication of an escape of 
 arterial blood into the thoracic cavity ; in other 
 words, the mouths of the two aortal wounds 
 78
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 have seized upon the blade with a firm hold 
 and thus prevent it from slipping in and out. 
 This is a very fortunate occurrence, but one 
 which will cause pain for some time. The 
 aorta, you may understand, being made by 
 the stiletto to move with the breathing, 
 pulls the heart backward and forward with 
 every breath you take ; but that organ, though 
 now undoubtedly much surprised, will accus- 
 tom itself to its new condition. 
 
 " What I fear most, however, is the forma- 
 tion of a clot around the blade. You see, the 
 presence of the blade in the aorta has already 
 reduced the blood-carrying capacity of that 
 vessel ; a clot, therefore, need not be very 
 large to stop up the aorta, and, of course, if 
 that should occur death would ensue. But the 
 clot, if one form, may be dislodged and driven 
 forward, in which event it may lodge in any 
 one of the numerous branches from the aorta 
 and produce results more or less serious, pos- 
 sibly fatal. If, for instance, it should choke 
 either the right or the left carotid, there would 
 ensue atrophy of one side of the brain, and 
 consequently paralysis of half the entire body ; 
 but it is possible that in time there would come 
 about a secondary circulation from the other 
 side of the brain, and thus restore a healthy 
 79
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 condition. Or the clot (which, in passing al- 
 ways from larger arteries to smaller, must 
 unavoidably find one not sufficiently large to 
 carry it, and must lodge somewhere) may either 
 necessitate amputation of one of the four limbs 
 or lodge itself so deep within the body that it 
 cannot be reached with the knife. You are 
 beginning to realize some of the dangers which 
 await you." 
 
 Arnold smiled faintly. 
 
 " But we shall do our best to prevent the 
 formation of a clot," continued Entrefort ; 
 " there are drugs which may be used with 
 effea." 
 
 " Are there more dangers ?" 
 
 " Many more ; some of the more serious 
 have not been mentioned. One of these is the 
 probability of the aortal tissues pressing upon 
 the weapon relaxing their hold and allowing 
 the blade to slip. That would let out the 
 blood and cause death. I am uncertain whether 
 the hold is now maintained by the pressure of 
 the tissues or the adhesive quality of the serum 
 which was set free by the punfture. I am 
 convinced, though, that in either event the 
 hold is easily broken and that it may give way 
 at any moment, for it is under several kinds of 
 strains. Every time the heart contracts and
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 crowds the blood into the aorta, the latter 
 expands a little, and then contracts when the 
 pressure is removed. Any unusual exercise or 
 excitement produces stronger and quicker 
 heart-beats, and increases the strain on the 
 adhesion of the aorta to the weapon. A fright, 
 fall, a jump, a blow on the chest any of these 
 might so jar the heart and aorta as to break 
 the hold." 
 
 Entrefort stopped. 
 
 " Is that all ?" asked Arnold. 
 
 " No ; but is not that enough ?" 
 
 " More than enough," said Arnold, with a 
 sudden and dangerous sparkle in his eyes. 
 Before any of us could think, the desperate 
 fellow had seized the handle of the stiletto 
 with both hands in a determined effort to with- 
 draw it and die. I had had no time to order 
 my faculties to the movement of a muscle, when 
 Entrefort, with incredible alertness and swift- 
 ness, had Arnold's wrists. Slowly Arnold 
 relaxed his hold. 
 
 " There, now !" said Entrefort, soothingly ; 
 " that was a careless act and might have broken 
 the adhesion ! You'll have to be care- 
 ful." 
 
 Arnold looked at him with a curious combi- 
 nation of expressions. 
 
 6 81
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 " Dr. Entrefort," he quietly remarked," you 
 are the devil." 
 
 Bowing profoundly, Entrefort replied : 
 " You do me too great honor ;" then he whis- 
 pered to his patient : " If you do that" 
 with a motion towards the hilt " I will have 
 her hanged for murder." 
 
 Arnold started and choked, and a look of 
 horror overspread his face. He withdrew his 
 hands, took one of mine in both of his, threw 
 his arms upon the pillow above his head, and, 
 holding my hand, firmly said to Entrefort, 
 
 " Proceed with your work." 
 
 " Come closer, Hippolyte," said Entrefort, 
 and observe narrowly. Will you kindly assist 
 me, Dr. Rowell ?" That gentleman had sat 
 in wondering silence. 
 
 Entrefort's hand was quick and sure, and he 
 used the knife with marvellous dexterity. First 
 he made four equidistant incisions outward 
 from the guard and just through the skin. 
 Arnold held his breath and ground his teeth 
 at the first cut, but soon regained command of 
 himself. Each incision was about two inches 
 long. Hippolyte shuddered and turned his 
 head aside. Entrefort, whom nothing escaped, 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Steady, Hippolyte ! Observe !" 
 82
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 Quickly was the skin peeled back to the limit 
 of the incisions. This must have been excru- 
 ciatingly painful. Arnold groaned, and his 
 hands were moist and cold. Down sank the 
 knife into the flesh from which the skin had 
 been raised, and blood flowed freely ; Dr. 
 Rowell handled the sponge. The keen knife 
 worked rapidly. Arnold's marvellous nerve 
 was breaking down. He clutched my hand 
 fiercely ; his eyes danced ; his mind was weak- 
 ening. Almost in a moment the flesh had 
 been cut away to the bones, which were now 
 exposed, two ribs and the sternum. A few 
 quick cuts cleared the weapon between the 
 guard and the ribs. 
 
 " To work, Hippolyte be quick !" 
 
 The machinist had evidently been coached 
 before he came. With slender, long-fingered 
 hands, which trembled at first, he selected cer- 
 tain tools with nice precision, made some 
 rapid measurements of the weapon and of the 
 cleared space around it, and began to adjust 
 the parts of a queer little machine. Arnold 
 watched him curiously. 
 
 " What " he began to say ; but he 
 
 ceased ; a deeper pallor set on his face, his 
 hands relaxed, and his eyelids fell. 
 
 " Thank God !" exclaimed Entrefort ; " he 
 83
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 has fainted he can't stop us now. Quick, 
 Hippolyte !" 
 
 The machinist attached the queer little ma- 
 chine to the handle of the weapon, seized the 
 stiletto in his left hand, and with his right 
 began a series of sharp, rapid movements back- 
 ward and forward. 
 
 " Hurry, Hippolyte !" urged Entrefort. 
 
 " The metal is very hard." 
 
 "Is it cutting ?" 
 
 " I can't see for the blood." 
 
 In another moment something snapped. 
 Hippolyte started ; he was very nervous. He 
 removed the little machine. 
 
 " The metal is very hard," he said ; " it 
 breaks the saws." 
 
 He adjusted another tiny saw and resumed 
 work. After a little while he picked up the 
 handle of the stiletto and laid it on the table. 
 He had cut it off, leaving the blade inside 
 Arnold's body. 
 
 " Good, Hippolyte !" exclaimed Entrefort. 
 In a minute he had closed the bright end of 
 the blade from view by drawing together the 
 skin-flaps and sewing them firmly. 
 
 Arnold returned to consciousness and 
 glanced down at his breast. He seemed puz- 
 zled. " Where is the weapon ?" he asked. 
 84
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 " Here is part of it," answered Entrefort, 
 holding up the handle. 
 
 " And the blade " 
 
 " That is an irremovable part of your in- 
 ternal machinery." Arnold was silent. ' It 
 had to be cut off," pursued Entrefort, " not 
 only because it would be troublesome and an 
 undesirable ornament, but also because it was 
 advisable to remove every possibility of its 
 withdrawal." Arnold said nothing. " Here 
 is a prescription," said Entrefort ; " take the 
 medicine as directed for the next five years 
 without fail." 
 
 " What for ? I see that it contains muriatic 
 acid." 
 
 " If necessary I will explain five years from 
 now." 
 
 "If I live." 
 
 " If you live." 
 
 Arnold drew me down to him and whis- 
 pered, " Tell her to fly at once ; this man may 
 make trouble for her." 
 
 Was there ever a more generous fellow ? 
 
 ###### 
 
 I thought that I recognized a thin, pale, 
 bright face among the passengers who were 
 leaving an Australian steamer which had just 
 arrived at San Francisco. 
 85
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 " Dr. Entrefort !" I cried. 
 
 " Ah !" he said, peering up into my face 
 and grasping my hand ; " I know you now, 
 but you have changed. You remember that I 
 was called away immediately after I had per- 
 formed that crazy operation on your friend. I 
 have spent the intervening four years in India, 
 China, Tibet, Siberia, the South Seas, and 
 God knows where not. But wasn't that a 
 most absurd, hare-brained experiment that I 
 tried on your friend! Still, it was all that 
 could have been done. I have dropped all 
 that nonsense long ago. It is better, for more 
 reasons than one, to let them die at once. 
 Poor fellow ! he bore it so bravely ! Did he 
 suffer much afterwards ? How long did he 
 live ? A week perhaps a month ?" 
 
 " He is alive yet." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Entrefort, startled. 
 
 " He is, indeed, and is in this city." 
 
 " Incredible !" 
 
 " It is true ; you shall see him." 
 
 " But tell me about him now !" cried the 
 surgeon, his eager eyes glittering with the 
 peculiar light which I had seen in them on the 
 night of the operation. " Has he regularly 
 taken the medicine which I prescribed ?" 
 
 " He has. Well, the change in him, from
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 what he was before the operation, is shocking. 
 Imagine a young dare-devil of twenty-two, 
 who had no greater fear of danger or death 
 than of a cold, now a cringing, cowering 
 fellow; apparently an old man, nursing his 
 life with pitiful tenderness, fearful that at any 
 moment something may happen to break the 
 hold of his aorta-walls on the stiletto-blade ; 
 a confirmed hypochondriac, peevish, melan- 
 cholic, unhappy in the extreme. He keeps 
 himself confined as closely as possible, avoid- 
 ing all excitement and exercise, and even 
 reads nothing exciting. The constant danger 
 has worn out the last shred of his manhood 
 and left him a pitiful wreck. Can nothing be 
 done for him ?" 
 
 " Possibly. But has he consulted no physi- 
 cian ?" 
 
 " None whatever ; he has been afraid that he 
 might learn the worst." 
 
 " Let us find him at once. Ah, here comes 
 my wife to meet me! She arrived by the 
 other steamer." 
 
 I recognized her immediately and was over- 
 come with astonishment. 
 
 " Charming woman," said Entrefort ; 
 " you'll like her. We were married three 
 years ago at Bombay. She belongs to a noble 
 87
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 Italian family and has travelled a great 
 deal." 
 
 He introduced us. To my unspeakable 
 relief she remembered neither my name nor 
 my face. I must have appeared odd to her, 
 but it was impossible for me to be perfectly 
 unconcerned. We went to Arnold's rooms, I 
 with much dread. I left her in the reception- 
 room and took Entrefort within. Arnold was 
 too greatly absorbed in his own troubles to be 
 dangerously excited by meeting Entrefort, 
 whom he greeted with indifferent hospitality. 
 
 "But I heard a woman's voice," he said. 
 
 " It sounds " He checked himself, and 
 
 before I could intercept him he had gone to 
 the reception-room ; and there he stood face 
 to face with the beautiful adventuress, none 
 other than Entrefort's wife now, who, wick- 
 edly desperate, had driven a stiletto into Ar- 
 nold's vitals in a hotel four years before 
 because he had refused to marry her. They 
 recognized each other instantly and both grew 
 pale ; but she, quicker witted, recovered her 
 composure at once and advanced towards him 
 with a smile and an extended hand. He 
 stepped back, his face ghastly with fear. 
 
 " Oh !" he gasped, " the excitement, the 
 shock, it has made the blade slip out ! The
 
 THE PERMANENT STILETTO 
 
 blood is pouring from the opening, it burns, 
 I am dying !" and he fell into my arms and 
 instantly expired. 
 
 The autopsy revealed the surprising faft 
 that there was no blade in his thorax at all ; 
 it had been gradually consumed by the muriatic 
 acid which Entrefort had prescribed for that 
 very purpose, and the perforations in the 
 aorta had closed up gradually with the wasting 
 of the blade and had been perfectly healed for 
 a long time. All his vital organs were sound. 
 My poor friend, once so reckless and brave, 
 had died simply of a childish and groundless 
 fear, and the woman unwittingly had accom- 
 plished her revenge. 
 
 89
 
 Over an Absinthe Bottle 
 
 A RTHUR KIMBERLIN, a young man 
 1\. of very high spirit, found himself a 
 total stranger in San Francisco one rainy even- 
 ing, at a time when his heart was breaking ; 
 for his hunger was of that most poignant kind 
 in which physical suffering is forced to the 
 highest point without impairment of the men- 
 tal functions. There remained in his posses- 
 sion not a thing that he might have pawned for 
 a morsel to eat ; and even as it was, he had 
 stripped his body of all articles of clothing 
 except those which a remaining sense of de- 
 cency compelled him to retain. Hence it was 
 that cold assailed him and conspired with hun- 
 ger to complete his misery. Having been 
 brought into the world and reared a gentleman, 
 he lacked the courage to beg and the skill to 
 steal. Had not an extraordinary thing occurred 
 to him, he either would have drowned himself 
 in the bay within twenty-four hours or died 
 of pneumonia in the street. He had been 
 90
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 seventy hours without food, and his mental 
 desperation had driven him far in its race with 
 his physical needs to consume the strength 
 within him ; so that now, pale, weak, and tot- 
 tering, he took what comfort he could find in 
 the savory odors which came steaming up from 
 the basement kitchens of the restaurants in 
 Market Street, caring more to gain them than 
 to avoid the rain. His teeth chattered ; he 
 shambled, stooped, and gasped. He was too 
 desperate to curse his fate he could only long 
 for food. He could not reason ; he could not 
 understand that ten thousand hands might 
 gladly have fed him ; he could think only of 
 the hunger which consumed him, and of food 
 that could give him warmth and happiness. 
 
 When he had arrived at Mason Street, he 
 saw a restaurant a little way up that thorough- 
 fare, and for that he headed, crossing the street 
 diagonally. He stopped before the window 
 and ogled the steaks, thick and lined with fat ; 
 big oysters lying on ice ; slices of ham as large 
 as his hat ; whole roasted chickens, brown and 
 juicy. He ground his teeth, groaned, and 
 staggered on. 
 
 A few steps beyond was a drinking-saloon, 
 which had a private door at one side, with the 
 words " Family Entrance" painted thereon.
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 In the recess of the door (which was closed) 
 stood a man. In spite of his agony, Kimber- 
 lin saw something in this man's face that ap- 
 palled and fascinated him. Night was on, and 
 the light in the vicinity was dim ; but it was 
 apparent that the stranger had an appearance 
 of whose character he himself must have been 
 ignorant. Perhaps it was the unspeakable an- 
 guish of it that struck through Kimberlin's 
 sympathies. The young man came to an un- 
 certain halt and stared at the stranger. At first 
 he was unseen, for the stranger looked straight 
 out into the street with singular fixity, and the 
 death-like pallor of his face added a weirdness 
 to the immobility of his gaze. Then he took 
 notice of the young man. 
 
 " Ah," he said, slowly and with peculiar 
 distinctness, " the rain has caught you, too, 
 without overcoat or umbrella ! Stand in this 
 doorway there is room for two." 
 
 The voice was not unkind, though it had an 
 alarming hardness. It was the first word that 
 had been addressed to the sufferer since hunger 
 had seized him, and to be spoken to at all, 
 and have his comfort regarded in the slightest 
 way, gave him cheer. He entered the embra- 
 sure and stood beside the stranger, who at 
 once relapsed into his fixed gaze at nothing 
 92
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 across the street. But presently the stranger 
 stirred himself again. 
 
 " It may rain a long time," said he ; "I 
 am cold, and I observe that you tremble. Let 
 us step inside and get a drink." 
 
 He opened the door and Kimberlin followed, 
 hope beginning to lay a warm hand upon his 
 heart. The pale stranger led the way into 
 one of the little private booths with which the 
 place was furnished. Before sitting down he 
 put his hand into his pocket and drew forth a 
 roll of bank-bills. 
 
 " You are younger than I," he said ; " won't 
 you go to the bar and buy a bottle of absinthe, 
 and bring a pitcher of water and some glasses ? 
 I don't like for the waiters to come around. 
 Here is a twenty-dollar bill." 
 
 Kimberlin took the bill and started down 
 through the corridor towards the bar. He 
 clutched the money tightly in his palm ; it felt 
 warm and comfortable, and sent a delicious 
 tingling through his arm. How many glorious 
 hot meals did that bill represent ? He clutched 
 it tighter and hesitated. He thought he smelled 
 a broiled steak, with fat little mushrooms and 
 melted butter in the steaming dish. He stopped 
 and looked back towards the door of the booth. 
 He saw that the stranger had closed it. He 
 93
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 could pass it, slip out the door, and buy some- 
 thing to eat. He turned and started, but the 
 coward in him (there are other names for this) 
 tripped his resolution j so he went straight to 
 the bar and made the purchase. This was so 
 unusual that the man who served him looked 
 sharply at him. 
 
 " Ain't goin' to drink all o' that, are you ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " I have friends in the box," replied Kim- 
 berlin, "and we want to drink quietly and 
 without interruption. We are in Number 7." 
 
 " Oh, beg pardon. That's all right," said 
 the man. 
 
 Kimberlin's step was very much stronger 
 and steadier as he returned with the liquor. 
 He opened the door of the booth. The stran- 
 ger sat at the side of the little table, staring at 
 the opposite wall just as he had stared across 
 the street. He wore a wide-brimmed, slouch 
 hat, drawn well down. It was only after 
 Kimberlin had set the bottle, pitcher, and 
 glasses on the table, and seated himself oppo- 
 site the stranger and within his range of vision, 
 that the pale man noticed him. 
 
 " Oh ! you have brought it ? How kind of 
 you ! Now please lock the door." 
 
 Kimberlin had slipped the change into his 
 94
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 pocket, and was in the aft of bringing it out 
 when the stranger said, 
 
 " Keep the change. You will need it, for 
 I am going to get it back in a way that may 
 interest you. Let us first drink, and then I 
 will explain." 
 
 The pale man mixed two drinks of absinthe 
 and water, and the two drank. Kimberfin, 
 unsophisticated, had never tasted the liquor 
 before, and he found it harsh and offensive ; 
 but no sooner had it reached his stomach than 
 it began to warm him, and sent the most de- 
 licious thrill through his frame. 
 
 " It will do us good," said the stranger ; 
 " presently we shall have more. Meanwhile, 
 do you know how to throw dice ?" 
 
 Kimberlin weakly confessed that he did 
 not. 
 
 " I thought not. Well, please go to the 
 bar and bring a dice-box. I would ring for 
 it, but I don't want the waiters to be coming 
 in." 
 
 Kimberlin fetched the box, again locked the 
 door, and the game began. It was not one of 
 the simple old games, but had complications, in 
 which judgment, as well as chance, played a 
 part. After a game or two without stakes, the 
 stranger said, 
 
 95
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 " You now seem to understand it. Very 
 well I will show you that you do not. We 
 will now throw for a dollar a game, and in 
 that way I shall win the money that you re- 
 ceived in change. Otherwise I should be 
 robbing you, and I imagine you cannot afford 
 to lose. I mean no offence. I am a plain- 
 spoken man, but I believe in honesty before 
 politeness. I merely want a little diversion, 
 and you are so kind-natured that I am sure you 
 will not object." 
 
 " On the contrary," replied Kimberlin, " I 
 shall enjoy it." 
 
 " Very well ; but let us have another drink 
 before we start. I believe I am growing 
 colder." 
 
 They drank again, and this time the starv- 
 ing man took his liquor with relish at least, 
 it was something in his stomach, and it warmed 
 and delighted him. 
 
 The stake was a dollar a side. Kimberlin 
 won. The pale stranger smiled grimly, and 
 opened another game. Again Kimberlin won. 
 Then the stranger pushed back his hat and 
 fixed that still gaze upon his opponent, smiling 
 yet. With this full view of the pale stranger's 
 face, Kimberlin was more appalled than ever. 
 He had begun to acquire a certain self-posses- 
 96
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 sion and ease, and his marvelling at the singular 
 character of the adventure had begun to weak- 
 en, when this new incident threw him back 
 into confusion. It was the extraordinary ex- 
 pression of the stranger's face that alarmed 
 him. Never upon the face of a living being 
 had he seen a pallor so death-like and chilling. 
 The face was more than pale ; it was white. 
 Kimberlin's observing faculty had been sharp- 
 ened by the absinthe, and, after having detefted 
 the stranger in an absent-minded effort two or 
 three times to stroke a beard which had no 
 existence, he reflected that some of the white- 
 ness of the face might be due to the recent 
 removal of a full beard. Besides the pallor, 
 there were deep and sharp lines upon the face, 
 which the electric light brought out very dis- 
 tinctly. With the exception of the steady 
 glance of the eyes and an occasional hard 
 smile, that seemed out of place upon such a 
 face, the expression was that of stone inartis- 
 tically cut. The eyes were black, but of 
 heavy expression ; the lower lip was purple j 
 the hands were fine, white, and thin, and dark 
 veins bulged out upon them. The stranger 
 pulled down his hat. 
 
 " You are lucky," he said. " Suppose we 
 try another drink. There is nothing like ab- 
 7 97
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 sinthe to sharpen one's wits, and I see that 
 you and I are going to have a delightful 
 game." 
 
 After the drink the game proceeded. Kim- 
 berlin won from the very first, rarely losing a 
 game. He became greatly excited. His eyes 
 shone ; color came to his cheeks. The stran- 
 ger, having exhausted the roll of bills which 
 he first produced, drew forth another, much 
 larger and of higher denominations. There 
 were several thousand dollars in the roll. At 
 Kimberlin's right hand were his winnings, 
 something like two hundred dollars. The 
 stakes were raised, and the game went rapidly 
 on. Another drink was taken. Then fortune 
 turned the stranger's way, and he won easily. 
 It went back to Kimberlin, for he was now 
 playing with all the judgment and skill he 
 could command. Once only did it occur to 
 him to wonder what he should do with the 
 money if he should quit winner ; but a sense 
 of honor decided him that it would belong to 
 the stranger. 
 
 By this time the absinthe had so sharpened 
 Kimberlin's faculties that, the temporary satis- 
 faction which it had brought to his hunger 
 having passed, his physical suffering returned 
 with increased aggressiveness. Could he not 
 98
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 order a supper with his earnings ? No ; that 
 was out of the question, and the stranger said 
 nothing about eating. Kimberlin continued to 
 play, while the manifestations of hunger took 
 the form of sharp pains, which darted through 
 him viciously, causing him to writhe and grind 
 his teeth. The stranger paid no attention, for 
 he was now wholly absorbed in the game. 
 He seemed puzzled and disconcerted. He 
 played with great care, studying each throw 
 minutely. No conversation passed between 
 them now. They drank occasionally, the dice 
 continued to rattle, the money kept piling up 
 at Kimberlin's hand. 
 
 The pale man began to behave strangely. 
 At times he would start and throw back his 
 head, as though he were listening. For a mo- 
 ment his eyes would sharpen and flash, and 
 then sink into heaviness again. More than 
 once Kimberlin, who had now begun to sus- 
 pect that his antagonist was some kind of mon- 
 ster, saw a frightfully ghastly expression sweep 
 over his face, and his features would become 
 fixed for a very short time in a peculiar gri- 
 mace. It was noticeable, however, that he was 
 steadily sinking deeper and deeper into a con- 
 dition of apathy. Occasionally he would raise 
 his eyes to Kimberlin's face after the young 
 99
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 man had made an astonishingly lucky throw, 
 and keep them fixed there with a steadiness 
 that made the young man quail. 
 
 The stranger produced another roll of bills 
 when the second was gone, and this had a value 
 many times as great as the others together. 
 The stakes were raised to a thousand dollars a 
 game, and still Kimberlin won. At last the 
 time came when the stranger braced himself 
 for a final effort. With speech somewhat 
 thick, but very deliberate and quiet, he said, 
 
 " You have won seventy-four thousand dol- 
 lars, which is exaftly the amount I have re- 
 maining. We have been playing for several 
 hours. I am tired, and I suppose you are. 
 Let us finish the game. Each will now stake 
 his all and throw a final game for it." 
 
 Without hesitation, Kimberlin agreed. The 
 bills made a considerable pile on the table. 
 Kimberlin threw, and the box held but one 
 combination that could possibly beat him ; this 
 combination might be thrown once in ten 
 thousand times. The starving man's heart beat 
 violently as the stranger picked up the box 
 with exasperating deliberation. It was a long 
 time before he threw. He made his combina- 
 tions and ended by defeating his opponent. 
 He sat looking at the dice a long time, and
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 then he slowly leaned back in his chair, settled 
 himself comfortably, raised his eyes to Kim- 
 berlin's, and fixed that unearthly stare upon 
 him. He said not a word ; his face contained 
 not a trace of emotion or intelligence. He 
 simply looked. One cannot keep one's eyes 
 open very long without winking, but the stran- 
 ger did. He sat so motionless that Kimberlin 
 began to be tortured. 
 
 " I will go now," he said to the stranger 
 said that when he had not a cent and was 
 starving. 
 
 The stranger made no reply, but did not 
 relax his gaze ; and under that gaze the young 
 man shrank back in his own chair, terrified. 
 He became aware that two men were cautiously 
 talking in an adjoining booth. As there was 
 now a deathly silence in his own, he listened, 
 and this is what he heard : 
 
 " Yes ; he was seen to turn into this street 
 about three hours ago." 
 
 " And he had shaved ?" 
 
 " He must have done so ; and to remove a 
 full beard would naturally make a great change 
 in a man." 
 
 " But it may not have been he." 
 
 " True enough ; but his extreme pallor at- 
 tradled attention. You know that he has been
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 troubled with heart-disease lately, and it has 
 affefted him seriously." 
 
 " Yes, but his old skill remains. Why, this 
 is the most daring bank-robbery we ever had 
 here. A hundred and forty-eight thousand 
 dollars think of it ! How long has it been 
 since he was let out of Joliet ?" 
 
 " Eight years. In that time he has grown 
 a beard, and lived by dice-throwing with men 
 who thought they could deleft him if he 
 should swindle them ; but that is impossible. 
 No human being can come winner out of a 
 game with him. He is evidently not here ; 
 let us look farther." 
 
 Then the two men clinked glasses and 
 passed out. 
 
 The dice-players the pale one and the 
 starving one sat gazing at each other, with a 
 hundred and forty-eight thousand dollars piled 
 up between them. The winner made no 
 move to take in the money ; he merely sat and 
 stared at Kimberlin, wholly unmoved by the 
 conversation in the adjoining room. His im- 
 perturbability was amazing, his absolute still- 
 ness terrifying. 
 
 Kimberlin began to shake with an ague. 
 The cold, steady gaze of the stranger sent ice 
 into his marrow. Unable to bear longer this 
 
 102
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 unwavering look, Kimberlin moved to one 
 side, and then he was amazed to discover that 
 the eyes of the pale man, instead of following 
 him, remained fixed upon the spot where he 
 had sat, or, rather, upon the wall behind it. 
 A great dread beset the young man. He 
 feared to make the slightest sound. Voices 
 of men in the bar-room were audible, and the 
 sufferer imagined that he heard others whis- 
 pering and tip-toeing in the passage outside 
 his booth. He poured out some absinthe, 
 watching his strange companion all the while, 
 and drank alone and unnoticed. He took a 
 heavy drink, and it had a peculiar effect upon 
 him : he felt his heart bounding with alarming 
 force and rapidity, and breathing was difficult. 
 Still his hunger remained, and that and the 
 absinthe gave him an idea that the gastric acids 
 were destroying him by digesting his stomach. 
 He leaned forward and whispered to the 
 stranger, but was given no attention. One of 
 the man's hands lay upon the table ; Kimberlin 
 placed his upon it, and then drew back in 
 terror the hand was as cold as a stone. 
 
 The money must not lie there exposed. 
 Kimberlin arranged it into neat parcels, look- 
 ing furtively every moment at his immovable 
 companion, and in mortal fear that be would 
 103
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 stir! Then he sat back and waited. A 
 deadly fascination impelled him to move back 
 into his former position, so as to bring his 
 face diredlly before the gaze of the stranger. 
 And so the two sat and stared at each other. 
 
 Kimberlin felt his breath coming heavier 
 and his heart- beats growing weaker, but these 
 conditions gave him comfort by reducing his 
 anxiety and softening the pangs of hunger. 
 He was growing more and more comfortable 
 and yawned. If he had dared he might have 
 gone to sleep. 
 
 Suddenly a fierce light flooded his vision 
 and sent him with a bound to his feet. Had 
 he been struck upon the head or stabbed to 
 the heart? No; he was sound and alive. 
 The pale stranger still sat there staring at 
 nothing and immovable ; but Kimberlin was 
 no longer afraid of him. On the contrary, an 
 extraordinary buoyancy of spirit and elasticity 
 of body made him feel reckless and daring. 
 His former timidity and scruples vanished, and 
 he felt equal to any adventure. Without hesi- 
 tation he gathered up the money and bestowed 
 it in his several pockets. 
 
 " I am a fool to starve," he said to himself, 
 " with all this money ready to my hand." 
 
 As cautiously as a thief he unlocked the 
 104
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 door, stepped out, reclosed it, and boldly 
 and with head ereft stalked out upon the 
 street. Much to his astonishment, he found 
 the city in the bustle of the early evening, yet 
 the sky was clear. It was evident to him that 
 he had not been in the saloon as long as he 
 had supposed. He walked along the street 
 with the utmost unconcern of the dangers that 
 beset him, and laughed softly but gleefully. 
 Would he not eat now ah, would he not ? 
 Why, he could buy a dozen restaurants ! Not 
 only that, but he would hunt the city up and 
 down for hungry men and feed them with the 
 fattest steaks, the juiciest roasts, and the big- 
 gest oysters that the town could supply. As 
 for himself, he must eat first; after that he 
 would set up a great establishment for feeding 
 other hungry mortals without charge. Yes, 
 he would eat first ; if he pleased, he would eat 
 till he should burst. In what single place 
 could he find sufficient to satisfy his hunger ? 
 Could he live sufficiently long to have an ox 
 killed and roasted whole for his supper? Be- 
 sides an ox he would order two dozen broiled 
 chickens, fifty dozen oysters, a dozen crabs, 
 ten dozen eggs, ten hams, eight young pigs, 
 twenty wild ducks, fifteen fish of four different 
 kinds, eight salads, four dozen bottles each of 
 105
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 claret, burgundy, and champagne ; for pastry, 
 eight plum-puddings, and for dessert, bushels 
 of nuts, ices, and confeftions. It would re- 
 quire time to prepare such a meal, and if he 
 could only live until it could be made ready 
 it would be infinitely better than to spoil his 
 appetite with a dozen or two meals of ordinary 
 size. He thought he could live that long, for 
 he felt amazingly strong and bright. Never 
 in his life before had he walked with so great 
 ease and lightness ; his feet hardly touched the 
 ground he ran and leaped. It did him good 
 to tantalize his hunger, for that would make 
 his relish of the feast all the keener. Oh, but 
 how they would stare when he would give his 
 order, and how comically they would hang 
 back, and how amazed they would be when 
 he would throw a few thousands of dollars on 
 the counter and tell them to take their money 
 out of it and keep the change ! Really, it was 
 worth while to be so hungry as that, for then 
 eating became an unspeakable luxury. And 
 one must not be in too great a hurry to eat 
 when one is so hungry that is beastly. How 
 much of the joy of living do rich people miss 
 from eating before they are hungry before 
 they have gone three days and nights without 
 food ! And how manly it is, and how great 
 106
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 self-control it shows, to dally with starvation 
 when one has a dazzling fortune in one's 
 pocket and every restaurant has an open door ! 
 To be hungry without money that is despair; 
 to be starving with a bursting pocket that is 
 sublime ! Surely the only true heaven is that 
 in which one famishes in the presence of 
 abundant food, which he might have for the 
 taking, and then a gorged stomach and a long 
 sleep. 
 
 The starving wretch, speculating thus, still . 
 kept from food. He felt himself growing in 
 stature, and the people whom he met became 
 pygmies. The streets widened, the stars be- 
 came suns and dimmed the eleftric lights, and 
 the most intoxicating odors and the sweetest 
 music filled the air. Shouting, laughing, and 
 singing, Kimberlin joined in a great chorus 
 
 that swept over the city, and then 
 
 ****** 
 The two dete&ives who had traced the 
 famous bank-robber to the saloon in Mason 
 Street, where Kimberlin had encountered the 
 stranger of the pallid face, left the saloon; 
 but, unable to pursue the trail farther, had 
 finally returned. They found the door of 
 booth No. 7 locked. After rapping and call- 
 ing and receiving no answer, they burst open 
 107
 
 OVER AN ABSINTHE BOTTLE 
 
 the door, and there they saw two men one 
 of middle age and the other very young sit- 
 ting perfeftly still, and in the strangest manner 
 imaginable staring at each other across the 
 table. Between them was a great pile of 
 money, arranged neatly in parcels. Near at 
 hand were an empty absinthe bottle, a water- 
 pitcher, glasses, and a dice-box, with the dice 
 lying before the elder man as he had thrown 
 them last. One of the dete&ives covered the 
 elder man with a revolver and commanded, 
 
 " Throw up your hands !" 
 
 But the dice-thrower paid no attention. 
 The deteftives exchanged startled glances. 
 They looked closer into the faces of the two 
 men, and then they discovered that both were 
 dead. 
 
 1 08
 
 The Inmate of the Dungeon 
 
 AFTER the Board of State Prison Direc- 
 tors, sitting in session at the prison, 
 had heard and disposed of the complaints and 
 petitions of a number of convi&s, the warden 
 announced that all who wished to appear had 
 been heard. Thereupon a certain uneasy and 
 apprehensive expression, which all along had 
 sat upon the faces of the directors, became 
 visibly deeper. The chairman a nervous, 
 energetic, abrupt, incisive man glanced at a slip 
 of paper in his hand, and said to the warden, 
 
 " Send a guard for convift No. 14,208." 
 
 The warden started and became slightly 
 pale. Somewhat confused, he haltingly re- 
 plied, " Why, he has expressed no desire to 
 appear before you." 
 
 " Nevertheless, you will send for him at 
 once," responded the chairman. 
 . The warden bowed stiffly and direfted a 
 guard to produce the convift. Then, turning 
 to the chairman, he said, 
 
 " I am ignorant of your purpose in summon- 
 109
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 ing this man, but of course I have no objec- 
 tion. I desire, however, to make a statement 
 concerning him before he appears." 
 
 " When we shall have called for a statement 
 from you," coldly responded the chairman, 
 " you may make one." 
 
 The warden sank back into his seat. He 
 was a tall, fine-looking man, well-bred and in- 
 telligent, and had a kindly face. Though or- 
 dinarily cool, courageous, and self-possessed, 
 he was unable to conceal a strong emotion, 
 which looked much like fear. A heavy silence 
 fell upon the room, disturbed only by the 
 official stenographer, who was sharpening his 
 pencils. A stray beam of light from the west- 
 ering sun slipped into the room between the 
 edge of the window-shade and the sash, and 
 fell across the chair reserved for the convift. 
 The uneasy eyes of the warden finally fell 
 upon this beam and there his glance rested. 
 The chairman, without addressing any one 
 particularly, remarked, 
 
 " There are ways of learning what occurs in 
 a prison without the assistance of either the 
 warden or the convidls." 
 
 Just then the guard appeared with the con- 
 vift, who shambled in painfully and labo- 
 riously, as with a string he held up from the 
 no
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 floor the heavy iron ball which was chained to 
 his ankles. He was about forty-five years 
 old. Undoubtedly he once had been a man 
 of uncommon physical strength, for a power- 
 ful skeleton showed underneath the sallow skin 
 which covered his emaciated frame. His sal- 
 lowness was peculiar and ghastly. It was 
 partly that of disease, and partly of something 
 worse j and it was this something that ac- 
 counted also for his shrunken muscles and man- 
 ifest feebleness. 
 
 There had been no time to prepare him for 
 presentation to the board. As a consequence, 
 his unstockinged toes showed through his gap- 
 ing shoes ; the dingy suit of prison stripes 
 which covered his gaunt frame was frayed and 
 tattered ; his hair had not been recently cut to 
 the prison fashion, and, being rebellious, stood 
 out upon his head like bristles ; and his beard, 
 which, like his hair, was heavily dashed with 
 gray, had not been shaved for weeks. These 
 incidents of his appearance combined with a 
 very peculiar expression of his face to make 
 an extraordinary pifture. It is difficult to de- 
 scribe this almost unearthly expression. With 
 a certain suppressed ferocity it combined an 
 inflexibility of purpose that sat like an iron 
 mask upon him. His eyes were hungry and 
 in
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 eager ; they were the living part of him, and 
 they shone luminous from beneath shaggy 
 brows. His forehead was massive, his head 
 of fine proportions, his jaw square and strong, 
 and his thin, high nose showed traces of an 
 ancestry that must have made a mark in some 
 corner of the world at some time in history. 
 He was prematurely old ; this was seen in his 
 gray hair and in the uncommonly deep wrinkles 
 which lined his forehead and the corners of his 
 eyes and of his mouth. 
 
 Upon stumbling weakly into the room, faint 
 with the labor of walking and of carrying the 
 iron ball, he looked around eagerly, like a bear 
 driven to his haunches by the hounds. His 
 glance passed so rapidly and unintelligently 
 from one face to another that he could not have 
 had time to form a conception of the persons 
 present, until his swift eyes encountered the 
 face of the warden. Instantly they flashed ; 
 he craned his neck forward ; his lips opened 
 and became blue ; the wrinkles deepened about 
 his mouth and eyes ; his form grew rigid, and 
 his breathing stopped. This sinister and ter- 
 rible attitude all the more so because he was 
 wholly unconscious of it was disturbed only 
 when the chairman sharply commanded, "Take 
 that seat."
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 The convift started as though he had been 
 struck, and turned his eyes upon the chairman. 
 He drew a deep inspiration, which wheezed 
 and rattled as it passed into his chest. An 
 expression of excruciating pain swept over his 
 face. He dropped the ball, which struck the 
 floor with a loud sound, and his long, bony 
 fingers tore at the striped shirt over his breast. 
 A groan escaped him, and he would have sunk 
 to the floor had not the guard caught him and 
 held him upright. In a moment it was over, 
 and then, collapsing with exhaustion, he sank 
 into the chair. There he sat, conscious and 
 intelligent, but slouching, disorganized, and 
 indifferent. 
 
 The chairman turned sharply to the guard. 
 " Why did you manacle this man," he de- 
 manded, " when he is evidently so weak, and 
 when none of the others were manacled ?" 
 
 " Why, sir," stammered the guard, " surely 
 you know who this man is : he is the most 
 dangerous and desperate " 
 
 " We know all about that. Remove his 
 manacles." 
 
 The guard obeyed. The chairman turned 
 to the convift, and in a kindly manner said, 
 " Do you know who we are ?" 
 
 The convift got himself together a little 
 8 "3
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 and looked steadily at the chairman. " No," 
 he replied, after a pause. His manner was 
 direft, and his voice was deep, though hoarse. 
 
 " We are the State Prison Direftors. We 
 have heard of your case, and we want you to 
 tell us the whole truth about it." 
 
 The convidl's mind worked slowly, and it 
 was some time before he could comprehend 
 the explanation and request. When he had 
 accomplished that task he said, very slowly, 
 " I suppose you want me to make a complaint, 
 sir." 
 
 " Yes, if you have any to make." 
 
 The convift was getting himself in hand. 
 He straightened up, and gazed at the chairman 
 with a peculiar intensity. Then firmly and 
 clearly he answered, ' I've no complaint to 
 make." 
 
 The two men sat looking at each other in 
 silence, and as they looked a bridge of human 
 sympathy was slowly reared between them. 
 The chairman rose, passed around an inter- 
 vening table, went up to the convict, and laid 
 a hand on his gaunt shoulder. There was a 
 tenderness in his voice that few men had ever 
 heard there. 
 
 " I know," said he, " that you are a patient 
 and uncomplaining man, or we should have 
 114
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 heard from you long ago. In asking you to 
 make a statement I am merely asking for your 
 help to right a wrong, if a wrong has been 
 done. Leave your own wishes entirely out of 
 consideration, if you prefer. Assume, if you 
 will, that it is not our intention or desire either 
 to give you relief or to make your case harder for 
 you. There are fifteen hundred human beings 
 in this prison, and they are under the absolute 
 control of one man. If a serious wrong is 
 practised upon one, it may be upon others. I 
 ask you in the name of common humanity, and 
 as one man of another, to put us in the way 
 of working justice in this prison. If you have 
 the instinfts of a man within you, you will 
 comply with my request. Speak out, there- 
 fore, like a man, and have no fear of any- 
 thing." 
 
 The convift was touched and stung. He 
 looked up steadily into the chairman's face, and 
 firmly said, " There is nothing in this world 
 that I fear." Then he hung his head, and 
 presently he raised it and added, " I will tell 
 you all about it." 
 
 At that moment he shifted his position so as 
 
 to bring the beam of light perpendicularly 
 
 across his face and che^st, and it seemed to split 
 
 him in twain. He saw it, and feasted his gaze 
 
 "5
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 upon it as it lay upon his breast. After a time 
 he thus proceeded, speaking very slowly, and 
 in a strangely monotonous voice : 
 
 " I was sent up for twenty years for killing 
 a man. I hadn't been a criminal : I killed him 
 without thinking, for he had robbed me and 
 wronged me. I came here thirteen years ago. 
 I had trouble at first it galled me to be a 
 convift; but I got over that, because the war- 
 den that was here then understood me and 
 was kind to me, and he made me one of the 
 best men in the prison. I don't say this to 
 make you think I'm complaining about the 
 present warden, or that he didn't treat me 
 kindly : I can take care of myself with him. 
 I am not making any complaint. I ask no 
 man's favor, and I fear no man's power." 
 
 " That is all right. Proceed." 
 
 " After the warden had made a good man 
 out of me I worked faithfully, sir; I did 
 everything they told me to do ; I worked 
 willingly and like a slave. It did me good to 
 work, and I worked hard. I never violated 
 any of the rules after I was broken in. And 
 then the law was passed giving credits to the 
 men for good conduft. My term was twenty 
 years, but I did so well that my credits piled 
 up, and after I had been here ten years I could 
 116
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 begin to see my way out. There were only 
 about three years left. And, sir, I worked 
 faithfully to make those years good. I knew 
 that if I did anything against the rules I should 
 lose my credits and have to stay nearly ten 
 years longer. I knew all about that, sir : I 
 never forgot it. I wanted to be a free man 
 again, and I planned to go away somewhere 
 and make the fight all over, to be a man in 
 the world once more." 
 
 " We know all about your record in the 
 prison. Proceed." 
 
 " Well, it was this way. You know they 
 were doing some heavy work in the quarries 
 and on the grades, and they wanted the 
 strongest men in the prison. There weren't 
 very many : there never are very many strong 
 men in a prison. And I was one of 'em that 
 they put on the heavy work, and I did it 
 faithfully. They used to pay the men for 
 extra work, not pay 'em money, but the 
 value of the money in candles, tobacco, extra 
 clothes, and things like that. I loved to work, 
 and I loved to work extra, and so did some of 
 the other men. On Saturdays the men who 
 had done extra work would fall in and go up 
 to the captain of the guard, and he would give 
 to each man what was coming to him. He 
 117
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 had it all down in a book, and when a man 
 would come up and call for what was due him 
 the captain would give it to him, whatever he 
 wanted that the rules allowed. 
 
 " One Saturday I fell in with the others. 
 A good many were ahead of me in the line, 
 and when they got what they wanted they fell 
 into a new line, waiting to be marched to the 
 cells. When my turn in the line came I went 
 up to the captain and said I would take mine 
 in tobacco. He looked at me pretty sharply, 
 and said, ' How did you get back in that line?' 
 I told him I belonged there, that I had come 
 to get my extra. He looked at his book, and 
 he said, ' You've had your extra : you got 
 tobacco.' And he told me to fall into the 
 new line. I told him I hadn't received any 
 tobacco ; I said I hadn't got my extra, and 
 hadn't been up before. He said, ' Don't spoil 
 your record by trying to steal a little tobacco. 
 Fall in.' ... It hurt me, sir. I hadn't been 
 up ; I hadn't got my extra ; and I wasn't a 
 thief, and I never had been a thief, and no 
 living man had a right to call me a thief. I 
 said to him, straight, ' I won't fall in till I get 
 my extra, and I'm not a thief, and no man can 
 call me one, and no man can rob me of my 
 just dues.' He turned pale, and said, ' Fall 
 118
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 in, there.' I said, ' I won't fall in till I get 
 my dues.' 
 
 " With that he raised his hand as a signal, 
 and the two guards behind him covered me 
 with their rifles, and a guard on the west wall, 
 and one on the north wall, and one on the 
 portico in front of the arsenal, all covered me 
 with rifles. The captain turned to a trusty 
 and told him to call the warden. The warden 
 came out, and the captain told him I was try- 
 ing to run double on my extra, and said I was 
 impudent and insubordinate and refused to 
 fall in. The warden said, ' Drop that and 
 fall in.' I told him I wouldn't fall in. I said 
 I hadn't run double, that I hadn't got my 
 extra, and that I would stay there till I died 
 before I would be robbed of it. He asked 
 the captain if there wasn't some mistake, and 
 the captain looked at his book and said there 
 was no mistake ; he said he remembered me 
 when I came up and got the tobacco and he 
 saw me fall into the new line, but he didn't 
 see me get back in the old line. The warden 
 didn't ask the other men if they saw me get 
 my tobacco and slip back into the old line. 
 He just ordered me to fall in. I told him I 
 would die before I would do that. I said I 
 wanted my just dues and no more, and I asked 
 119
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 him to call on the other men in line to prove 
 that I hadn't been up. 
 
 " He said, That's enough of this.' He 
 sent all the other men to the cells, and left me 
 standing there. Then he told two guards to 
 take me to the cells. They came and took 
 hold of me, and I threw them off as if they 
 were babies. Then more guards came up, 
 and one of them hit me over the head with a 
 club, and I fell. And then, sir," here the 
 convidVs voice fell to a whisper, " and then 
 he told them to take me to the dungeon." 
 
 The sharp, steady glitter of the convidVs 
 eyes failed, and he hung his head and looked 
 despairingly at the floor. 
 
 " Go on," said the chairman. 
 
 " They took me to the dungeon, sir. Did 
 you ever see the dungeon ?" 
 
 " Perhaps ; but you may tell us about it." 
 
 The cold, steady gleam returned to the con- 
 vift's eyes, as he fixed them again upon the 
 chairman. 
 
 , " There are several little rooms in the dun- 
 geon. The one they put me in was about 
 five by eight. It has steel walls and ceiling, 
 and a granite floor. The only light that 
 comes in passes through a slit in the door. 
 The slit is an inch wide and five inches long.
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 It doesn't give much light, because the door is 
 thick. It's about four inches thick, and is 
 made of oak and sheet-steel, bolted through. 
 The slit runs this way," making a horizontal 
 motion in the air, " and it is four inches 
 above my eyes when I stand on tiptoe. And 
 I can't look out at the fadtory-wall forty feet 
 away unless I hook my fingers in the slit and 
 pull myself up." 
 
 He stopped and regarded his hands, the 
 peculiar appearance of which we all had ob- 
 served. The ends of the fingers were uncom- 
 monly thick ; they were red and swollen, and 
 the knuckles were curiously marked with deep 
 white scars. 
 
 " Well, sir, there wasn't anything at all in 
 the dungeon, but they gave me a blanket, and 
 they put me on bread and water. That's all 
 they ever give you in the dungeon. They 
 bring the bread and water once a day, and that 
 is at night, because if they come in the day- 
 time it lets in the light. 
 
 " The next night after they put me in it 
 was Sunday night the warden came with the 
 guard and asked me if I was all right. I said 
 I was. He said, ' Will you behave yourself 
 and go to work to-morrow ?' I said, ' No, sir ; 
 I won't go to work till I get what is due me.' 
 
 121
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and said, ' Very 
 well : maybe you'll change your mind after you 
 have been in here a week.' 
 
 " They kept me there a week. The next 
 Sunday night the warden came and said, ' Are 
 you ready to go to work to-morrow?' and I 
 said, ' No ; I will not go to work till I get 
 what is due me.' He called me hard names. 
 I said it was a man's duty to demand his 
 rights, and that a man who would stand to be 
 treated like a dog was no man at all." 
 
 The chairman interrupted. " Did you not 
 refleft," he asked, " that these officers would 
 not have stooped to rob you ? that it was 
 through some mistake they withheld your 
 tobacco, and that in any event you had a 
 choice of two things to lose, one a plug of 
 tobacco, and the other seven years of free- 
 dom ?" 
 
 " But they angered me and hurt me, sir, by 
 calling me a thief, and they threw me in the 
 dungeon like a beast. ... I was standing for 
 my rights, and my rights were my manhood ; 
 and that is something a man can carry sound to 
 the grave, whether he's bond or free, weak or 
 powerful, rich or poor." 
 
 " Well, after you refused to go to work what 
 did the warden do ?" 
 
 122
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 The convift, although tremendous excite- 
 ment must have surged and boiled within him, 
 slowly, deliberately, and weakly came to his 
 feet. He placed his right foot on the chair, 
 and rested his right elbow on the raised knee. 
 The index finger of his right hand, pointing 
 to the chairman and moving slightly to lend 
 emphasis to his narrative, was the only thing 
 that modified the rigid immobility of his fig- 
 ure. Without a single change in the pitch or 
 modulation of his voice, never hurrying, but 
 speaking with the slow and dreary monotony 
 with which he had begun, he nevertheless 
 partly by reason of these evidences of his incred- 
 ible self-control made a formidable pifture as 
 he proceeded : 
 
 " When I told him that, sir, he said he'd 
 take me to the ladder and see if he couldn't 
 make me change my mind. . . . Yes, sir ; he 
 said he'd take me to the ladder." (Here there 
 was a long pause.) " And I a human being, 
 with flesh on my bones and the heart of a man 
 in my body. The other warden hadn't tried 
 to break my spirit on the ladder. He did 
 break it, though ; he broke it clear to the 
 bottom of the man inside of me ; but he did 
 it with a human word, and not with the dun- 
 geon and the ladder. I didn't believe the 
 123
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 warden when he said he would take me to the 
 ladder. I couldn't imagine myself alive and 
 put through at the ladder, and 1 couldn't imag- 
 ine any human being who could find the heart 
 to put me through. If I had believed him I 
 would have strangled him then and there, and 
 got my body full of lead while doing it. No, 
 sir ; I could not believe it. 
 
 " And then he told me to come on. I went 
 with him and the guards. He brought me to 
 the ladder. I had never seen it before. It 
 was a heavy wooden ladder, leaned against the 
 wall, and the bottom was bolted to the floor 
 and the top to the wall. A whip was on the 
 floor." (Again there was a pause.) " The 
 warden told me to strip, sir, and I stripped. 
 . . . And stilt I didn't believe he would 
 whip me. I thought he just wanted to scare 
 me. 
 
 " Then he told me to face up to the ladder. 
 I did so, and reached my arms up to the straps. 
 They strapped my arms to the ladder, and 
 stretched so hard that they pulled me up clear 
 of the floor. Then they strapped my legs to 
 the ladder. The warden then picked up the 
 whip. He said to me, ' I'll give you one more 
 chance : will you go to work to-morrow ?' I 
 said, ' No ; I won't go to work till I get my 
 124
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 dues.' Very well,' said he, ' you'll get your 
 dues now.' And then he stepped back and 
 raised the whip. I turned my head and looked 
 at him, and I could see it in his eyes that he 
 meant to strike. . . . And when I saw that, 
 sir, I felt that something inside of me was 
 about to burst." 
 
 The convift paused to gather up his strength 
 for the crisis of his story, yet not in the least 
 particular did he change his position, the slight 
 movement of his pointing finger, the steady 
 gleam of his eye, or the slow monotony of his 
 speech. I had never witnessed any scene so 
 dramatic as this, and yet all was absolutely 
 simple and unintentional. I had been thrilled 
 by the greatest aftors, as with matchless skill 
 they gave rein to their genius in tragic situa- 
 tions ; but how inconceivably tawdry and 
 cheap such pictures seemed in comparison with 
 this ! The claptrap of the music, the lights, 
 the posing, the wry faces, the gasps, lunges, 
 staggerings, rolling eyes, how flimsy aud 
 colorless, how mocking and grotesque, they 
 all appeared beside this simple, uncouth, but 
 genuine expression of immeasurable agony ! 
 
 The stenographer held his pencil poised 
 above the paper, and wrote no more. 
 
 "And then the whip came down across my 
 125
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 back. The something inside of me twisted 
 hard and then broke wide open, and went 
 pouring all through me like melted iron. It 
 was a hard fight to keep my head clear, but I 
 did it. And then I said to the warden this : 
 ' You've struck me with a whip, in cold blood. 
 You've tied me up hand and foot, to whip me 
 like a dog. Well, whip me, then, till you fill 
 your belly with it. You are a coward. You 
 are lower, and meaner, and cowardlier than the 
 lowest and meanest dog that ever yelped when 
 his master kicked him. You were born a cow- 
 ard. Cowards will lie and steal, and you are 
 the same as a thief and liar. No hound would 
 own you for a friend. Whip me hard and long, 
 you coward. Whip me, I say. See how good 
 a coward feels when he ties up a man and 
 whips him like a dog. Whip me till the last 
 breath quits my body ; if you leave me alive 
 I will kill you for this.' 
 
 " His face got white. He asked me if I 
 meant that, and I said, ' Yes ; before God I 
 do.' Then he took the whip in both hands 
 and came down with all his might." 
 
 " That was nearly two years ago," said the 
 chairman. " You would not kill him now, 
 would you ?" 
 
 " Yes. I will kill him if I get a chance ; 
 126
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 and I feel it in me that the chance will 
 come." 
 
 " Well, proceed." 
 
 " He kept on whipping me. He whipped 
 me with all the strength of both hands. I 
 could feel the broken skin curl up on my 
 back, and when my head got too heavy to 
 hold it straight it hung down, and I saw the 
 blood on my legs and dripping off my toes 
 into a pool of it on the floor. Something was 
 straining and twisting inside of me again. My 
 back didn't hurt much ; it was the thing twist- 
 ing inside of me that hurt. I counted the 
 lashes, and when I counted to twenty-eight 
 the twisting got so hard that it choked me and 
 blinded me ; . . . and when I woke up I was 
 in the dungeon again, and the doftor had my 
 back all plastered up, and he was kneeling 
 beside me, feeling my pulse." 
 
 The prisoner had finished. He looked 
 around vaguely, as though he wanted to go. 
 
 " And you have been in the dungeon ever 
 since ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but I don't mind that." 
 
 " How long ?" 
 
 " Twenty-three months." 
 
 " On bread and water ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but that was all I wanted." 
 127
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 "Have you reflefted that so long as you 
 harbor a determination. to kill the warden you 
 may be kept in the dungeon ? You can't live 
 much longer there, and if you die there you 
 will never find the chance you want. If you 
 say you will not kill the warden he may return 
 you to the cells." 
 
 " But that would be a lie, sir ; I will get a 
 chance to kill him if I go to the cells. I 
 would rather die in the dungeon than be a 
 liar and sneak. If you send me to the cells 
 I will kill him. But I will kill him without 
 that. I will kill him, sir. . . . And he 
 knows it." 
 
 Without concealment, but open, deliberate, 
 and implacable, thus in the wrecked frame of 
 a man, so close that we could have touched it, 
 stood Murder, not boastful, but relentless as 
 death. 
 
 "Apart from weakness, is your health 
 good ?" asked the chairman. 
 
 " Oh, it's good enough," wearily answered 
 the convift. " Sometimes the twisting comes 
 on, but when I wake up after it I'm all 
 right." 
 
 The prison surgeon, under the chairman's 
 direction, put his ear to the convidVs chest, and 
 then went over and whispered to the chairman. 
 128
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 " I thought so," said that gentleman. " Now, 
 take this man to the hospital. Put him to bed 
 where the sun will shine on him, and give him 
 the most nourishing food." 
 
 The convift, giving no heed to this, 
 shambled out with a guard and the surgeon. 
 
 The warden sat alone in the prison office 
 with No. 14,208. That he at last should 
 have been brought face to face, and alone, 
 with the man whom he had determined to 
 kill, perplexed the convift. He was not man- 
 acled ; the door was locked, and the key lay 
 on the table between the two men. Three 
 weeks in the hospital had proved beneficial, 
 but a deathly pallor was still in his face. 
 
 " The action of the direftors three weeks 
 ago," said the warden, " made my resignation 
 necessary. I have awaited the appointment 
 of my successor, who is now in charge. I 
 leave the prison to-day. In the mean time, I 
 have something to tell you that will interest 
 you. A few days ago a man who was dis- 
 charged from the prison last year read what 
 the papers have published recently about 
 your case, and he has written to me confessing 
 that it was he who got your tobacco from the 
 captain of the guard. His name is Salter, 
 9 129
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 and he looks very much like you. He had got 
 his own extra, and when he came up again and 
 called for yours the captain, thinking it was 
 you, gave it to him. There was no intention 
 on the captain's part to rob you." 
 
 The convift gasped and leaned forward 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Until the receipt of this letter," resumed 
 the warden, " I had opposed the movement 
 which had been started for your pardon ; but 
 when this letter came I recommended your 
 pardon, and it has been granted. Besides, you 
 have a serious heart trouble. So you are now 
 discharged from the prison." 
 
 The convift stared and leaned back speech- 
 less. His eyes shone with a strange, glassy 
 expression, and his white teeth glistened 
 ominously between his parted lips. Yet a 
 certain painful softness tempered the iron in 
 his face. 
 
 " The stage will leave for the station in four 
 hours," continued the warden. " You have 
 made certain threats against my life." The 
 warden paused ; then, in a voice that slightly 
 wavered from emotion, he continued : " I 
 shall not permit your intentions in that regard 
 for I care nothing about them to prevent 
 me from discharging a duty which, as from one 
 130
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 man to another, I owe you. I have treated 
 you with a cruelty the enormity of which I 
 now comprehend. I thought I was right. My 
 fatal mistake was in not understanding your 
 nature. I misconstrued your conduct from the 
 beginning, and in doing so I have laid upon 
 my conscience a burden which will embitter 
 the remaining years of my life. I would do 
 anything in my power, if it were not too late, 
 to atone for the wrong I have done you. If, 
 before I sent you to the dungeon, I could have 
 understood the wrong and foreseen its conse- 
 quences, I would cheerfully have taken my 
 own life rather than raised a hand against you. 
 The lives of us both have been wrecked ; but 
 your suffering is in the past, mine is present, 
 and will cease only with my life. For my 
 life is a curse, and I prefer not to keep it." 
 
 With that the warden, very pale, but with 
 a clear purpose in his face, took a loaded re- 
 volver from a drawer and laid it before the 
 convict. 
 
 " Now is your chance," he said, quietly : 
 " no one can hinder you." 
 
 The convict gasped and shrank away from 
 the weapon as from a viper. 
 
 "Not yet not yet," he whispered, in 
 agony.
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 The two men sat and regarded each other 
 without the movement of a muscle. 
 
 " Are you afraid to do it ?" asked the war- 
 den. 
 
 A momentary light flashed in the convicVs 
 eyes. 
 
 " No !" he gasped ; " you know I am not. 
 But I can't not yet, not yet." 
 
 The convift, whose ghastly pallor, glassy 
 eyes, and gleaming teeth sat like a mask of 
 death upon his face, staggered to his feet. 
 
 " You have done it at last ! you have broken 
 my spirit. A human word has done what the 
 dungeon and the whip could not do. ... It 
 twists inside of me now. . .. . I could be 
 your slave for that human word." Tears 
 streamed from his eyes. " I can't help crying. 
 I'm only a baby, after all and I thought I was 
 a man." 
 
 He reeled, and the warden caught him and 
 seated him in the chair. He took the con- 
 vicVs hand in his and felt a firm, true pressure 
 there. The convicVs eyes rolled vacantly. 
 A spasm of pain caused him to raise his free 
 hand to his chest ; his thin, gnarled fingers 
 made shapeless by long use in the slit of 
 the dungeon-door clutched automatically at 
 his shirt. A faint, hard smile wrinkled his 
 132
 
 THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
 
 wan face, displaying the gleaming teeth more 
 freely. 
 
 " That human word," he whispered, 
 *' if you had spoken it long ago, if but it's 
 all it's all right now. I'll go I'll go to 
 work to-morrow." 
 
 There was a slightly firmer pressure of the 
 hand that held the warden's ; then it relaxed. 
 The fingers which clutched the shirt slipped 
 away, and the hand dropped to his side. The 
 weary head sank back and rested on the chair ; 
 the strange, hard smile still sat upon the mar- 
 ble face, and a dead man's glassy eyes and 
 gleaming teeth were upturned towards the 
 ceiling. 
 
 133
 
 A Game of Honor 
 
 FOUR of the five men who sat around the 
 card-table in the cabin of the " Merry 
 Witch" regarded the fifth man with a steady, 
 implacable look of scorn. The solitary one 
 could not face that terrible glance. His head 
 drooped, and his gaze rested upon some cards 
 which he idly fumbled as he waited, numbed 
 and listless, to hear his sentence. 
 
 The more masterful one of the four made 
 a disdainful gesture towards the craven one, and 
 thus addressed the others : 
 
 " Gentlemen, none of us can have forgotten 
 the terms of our compaft. It was agreed at 
 the beginning of this expedition that only men 
 of unflinching integrity should be permitted to 
 participate in its known dangers and possible 
 rewards. To find and secure the magnificent 
 treasure which we are seeking with a sure pros- 
 peft of discovering it, we must run the risk of 
 encounters with savage Mexican soldiers and 
 marines, and take all the other dangerous
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 chances of which you are aware. As the char- 
 terer of this vessel and the leader of the ex- 
 pedition I have exercised extraordinary care 
 in selecting my associates. We have been and 
 still are equals, and my leadership as the out- 
 fitter of the expedition gives me no advantage 
 in the sharing of the treasure. As such leader, 
 however, I am in authority, and have employed, 
 unsuspefted by you, many devices to test the 
 manhood of each of you. Were it not for 
 the fadl: that I have exhausted all reasonable 
 resources to this end, and have found all of 
 you trustworthy except one, I would not now 
 be disclosing the plan which I have been pur- 
 suing." 
 
 The- three others, who had been gazing at 
 the crestfallen one, now stared at their leader 
 with a startled interest. 
 
 " The final test of a man's character," calmly 
 pursued the leader, " is the card-table. What- 
 ever there may be in him of weakness, whether 
 it be a mean avarice, cowardice, or a deceitful 
 disposition, will there inevitably appear. If I 
 were the president of a bank, the general of 
 an army, or the leader of any other great en- 
 terprise I would make it a point to test the 
 charadler of my subordinates in a series of 
 games at cards, preferably played for money. 
 135
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 It is the only sure test of chara&er that 
 the wisdom of the ages has been able to 
 devise." 
 
 He paused, and then turned his scornful 
 glance upon the cringing man, who meanwhile 
 had mustered courage to look up, and was em- 
 ploying his eyes as well as his ears to compre- 
 hend the strange philosophy of his judge. 
 Terror and dismay were elements of the ex- 
 pression which curiously wrinkled his white 
 face, as though he found himself standing be- 
 fore a court of inscrutable wisdom and relent- 
 less justice. But his glance fell instantly when 
 it encountered that of his judge, and his weak 
 lower lip hung trembling. 
 
 " We have all agreed," impressively con- 
 tinued the leader, " that the one found guilty 
 of deceiving or betraying the others to the very 
 smallest extent should pay the penalty which 
 we are all sworn to exaft. A part of this 
 agreement, as we all remember, is that the one 
 found derelict shall be the first to insist on the 
 visitation of the penalty, and that should he 
 fail to do so but I trust that it is unnecessary 
 to mention the alternative." 
 
 There was another pause, and the culprit sat 
 still, hardly breathing, and permitting the cards 
 to slip from his fingers to the floor. 
 136
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 " Mr. Rossiter," said the leader, addressing 
 the hapless man in a tone so hard and cold that 
 it congealed the marrow which it pierced, 
 " have you any suggestion to make ?" 
 
 The doomed man made such a pitiful strug- 
 gle for self-mastery as the gallows often reveals. 
 If there was a momentary flash of hope based 
 on a transient determination to plead, it faded 
 instantly before the stern and implacable eyes 
 that greeted him from all sides of the table. 
 Certainly there was a fierce struggle under 
 which his soul writhed, and which showed in 
 a passing flush that crimsoned his face. That 
 went by, and an acceptance of doom sat upon 
 him. He raised his head and looked firmly at 
 the leader, and as he did so his chest expanded 
 and his shoulders squared bravely. 
 
 " Captain," said he, with a very good voice, 
 " whatever else I may be, I am not a coward. 
 I have cheated. In doing so I have betrayed 
 the confidence of all. I remember the terms 
 of the compaft. Will you kindly summon the 
 skipper ?" 
 
 Without any change of countenance, the 
 leader complied. 
 
 " Mr. Rossiter," he said to the skipper, " has 
 a request to make of you, and whatever it may 
 be I authorize you to comply with it."
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 " I wish," asked Mr. Rossiter of the skip- 
 per, " that you would lower a boat and put 
 me aboard, and that you would furnish the 
 boat with one oar and nothing else what- 
 ever." 
 
 " Why," exclaimed the skipper, aghast, 
 looking in dismay from one to another of the 
 men, " the man is insane ! There is no land 
 within five hundred miles. We are in the 
 tropics, and a man couldn't live four days with- 
 out food or water, and the sea is alive with 
 sharks. Why, this is suicide !" 
 
 The leader's face darkened, but before he 
 could speak Mr. Rossiter calmly remarked, 
 
 " That is my own affair, sir ;" and there was 
 a fine ring in his voice. 
 
 The man in the boat, bareheaded and 
 stripped nearly naked in the broiling sun, was 
 thus addressing something which he saw close 
 at hand in the water : 
 
 " Let me see. Yes, I think it is about four 
 days now that we have travelled together, but 
 I am not very positive about that. You see, 
 if it hadn't been for you I should have died 
 of loneliness. . . . Say ! aren't you hungry, 
 too ? I was a few days ago, but I'm only thirsty 
 138
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 now. You've got the advantage of me, be- 
 cause you don't get thirsty. As for your being 
 hungry ha, ha, ha ! Who ever heard of a 
 shark that wasn't always hungry ? Oh, I know 
 well enough what's in your mind, companion 
 mine, but there's time enough for that. I hate 
 to disturb the pleasant relation which exists 
 between us at present. That is to say now, 
 here is a witticism I prefer the outside rela- 
 tion to the inside intimacy. Ha, ha, ha ! I 
 knew you'd laugh at that, you sly old rogue ! 
 What a very sly, patient old shark you are ! 
 Don't you know that if you didn't have those 
 clumsy fins, and that dreadfully homely mouth 
 away down somewhere on the under side of 
 your body, and eyes so grotesquely wide apart, 
 and should go on land and match your wit 
 against the various and amusing species of 
 sharks which abound there, your patience in 
 pursuing a manifest advantage would make you 
 a millionaire in a year? Can you get that 
 philosophy through your thick skull, my 
 friend ? 
 
 " There, there, there ! Don't turn over 
 like that and make a fool of yourself by open- 
 ing your pretty mouth and dazzling the mid- 
 day sun with the gleam of your white belly. 
 I'm not ready yet. God ! how thirsty I am ! 
 139
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 Say, did you ever feel like that ? Did you ever 
 see blinding flashes that tear through your 
 brain and turn the sun black? 
 
 " You haven't answered my question yet. 
 It's a hypothetical question yes, hypotheti- 
 cal. I'm sure that's what I want to say. Hy- 
 po hypothetical question. Question ; yes, 
 that's right. Now, suppose you'd been a 
 pretty wild young shark, and had kept your 
 mother anxious and miserable, and had drifted 
 into gambling and had gone pretty well to the 
 dogs. Do sharks ever go to the dogs ? Now, 
 that's a poser. Sharks ; dogs. Oh, what a 
 very ridiculously, sublimely amusing old shark ! 
 Dreadfully discreet you are. Never disclose 
 your hand except on a showdown. What a 
 glum old villain you are ! 
 
 " Pretty well to the dogs, and then braced 
 up and left home to make a man of yourself. 
 Think of a shark making a man of himself! 
 And then easy there ! Don't get excited. I 
 only staggered that time and didn't quite go 
 overboard. And don't let my gesticulations 
 excite you. Keep your mouth shut, my friend ; 
 you're not pretty when you smile like that. 
 As I was saying oh ! . . . 
 
 " How long was I that way, old fellow ? 
 Good thing for me that you don't know how 
 140
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 to climb into a boat when a fellow is that way. 
 Were you ever that way, partner ? Come on 
 like this : Biff! Big blaze of red fire in your 
 head. Then then well, after awhile you 
 come out of it, with the queerest and crooked- 
 est of augers boring through your head, and a 
 million tadpoles of white fire darting in every 
 direction through the air. Don't ever get that 
 way, my friend, if you can possibly keep out 
 of it. But then, you never get thirsty. Let 
 me see. The sun was over there when the 
 red fire struck, and it's over here now. 
 Shifted about thirty degrees. Then, I was 
 that way about two hours. 
 
 " Where are those dogs ? Do they come to 
 you or do you go to them ? That depends. 
 Now, say you had some friends that wanted to 
 do you a good turn ; wanted to straighten you 
 up and make a man of you. They had ascer- 
 tained the exact situation of a wonderful treas- 
 ure buried in an island of the Pacific. All 
 right. They knew you had some of the qual- 
 ities useful for such an expedition reckless 
 dare-devil, afraid of nothing things like that. 
 Understand, my friend ? Well, all swore oaths 
 as long as your leg as long as your oh, my ! 
 Think of a shark having a leg ! Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Long as your leg ! Oh, my ! Pardon my lev- 
 Hi
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 ity, old man, but I must laugh. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Oh, my ! 
 
 " All of you swore you and the other 
 sharks. No lying ; no deceit ; no swindling. 
 First shark that makes a slip is to call the skip- 
 per and be sent adrift with one oar and noth- 
 ing else. And all, my friend, after you had 
 pledged your honor to your mother, your God, 
 yourself, and your friends, to be a true and 
 honorable shark. It isn't the hot sun broiling 
 you and covering you with bursting blisters, 
 and changing the marrow of your bones to 
 melted iron and your blood to hissing lava 
 it isn't the sun that hurts ; and the hunger that 
 gnaws your intestines to rags, and the thirst 
 that changes your throat into a funnel of hot 
 brass, and blinding bursts of red fire in your 
 head, and lying dead in the waist of the boat 
 while the sun steals thirty degrees of time out 
 the sky, and a million fiery tadpoles darting 
 through the air none of them hurts so much 
 as something infinitely deeper and more cruel, 
 your broken pledge of honor to your mother, 
 your God, yourself, and your friends. That 
 is what hurts, my friend. 
 
 " It is late, old man, to begin life all over 
 again while you are in the article of death, and 
 resolve to be good when it is no longer possible 
 142
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 to be bad. But that is our affair, yours and 
 mine; and just at this time we are not choos- 
 ing to discuss the utility of goodness. But I 
 don't like that sneer in your glance. I have 
 only one oar, and I will cheerfully break it 
 over your wretched head if you come a yard 
 nearer. . . . 
 
 " Aha ! Thought I was going over, eh ? 
 See ; I can stand steady when I try. But I 
 don't like that sneer in your eyes. You 
 don't believe in the reformation of the dying, 
 eh ? You are a contemptible dog ; a low, 
 mean, outcast dog. You sneer at the declara- 
 tion of a man that he can and will be honest 
 at last and face his Maker humbly, but still as 
 a man. Come, then, my friend, and let us see 
 which of us two is the decent and honorable 
 one. Stake your manhood against mine, and 
 stake your life with your manhood. We'll see 
 which is the more honorable of the two ; for 
 I tell you now, Mr. Shark, that we are going 
 to gamble for our lives and our honor. 
 
 " Come up closer and watch the throw. 
 No ? Afraid of the oar ? You sneaking cow- 
 ard ! You would be a decent shark at last did 
 the oar but split your skull. See this visiting 
 card, you villain ? Look at it as I hold it up. 
 There is printing on one side; that is my 
 143
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 name ; it is I. The other side is blank ; that 
 is you. Now, I am going to throw this into 
 the water. If it falls name up, I win ; if blank 
 side up, you win. If I win, I eat you ; if you 
 win, you eat me. Is that a go ? 
 
 " Hold on. You see, I can throw a card so 
 as to bring uppermost either side I please. 
 That wouldn't be fair. For this, the last game 
 of my life, is to be square. So I fold one end 
 down on this side, and the other down on that 
 side. When you throw a card folded like that 
 no living shark, whether he have legs or only 
 a tail, can know which side will fall upper- 
 most. That is a square game, old man, and it 
 will settle the little difference that has existed 
 between you and me for four days past a dif- 
 ference of ten or fifteen feet. 
 
 " Mind you, if I win, you are to come along- 
 side the boat and I am to kill you and eat 
 you. That may sustain my life until I am 
 picked up. If you win, over I go and you eat 
 me. Are you in the game ? Well, here goes, 
 then, for life or death. . . . Ah ! you have 
 won ! And this is a game of honor !" 
 
 ******* 
 
 A black-smoking steamer was steadily ap- 
 proaching the drifting boat, for the lookout 
 had reported the discovery, and the steamer 
 144
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 was bearing down to lend succor. The cap- 
 tain, standing on the bridge, saw through his 
 glass a wild and nearly naked man making 
 the most extraordinary signs and gestures, stag- 
 gering and lurching in imminent danger of 
 falling overboard. When the ship had ap- 
 proached quite near the captain saw the man 
 toss a card into the water, and then stand with 
 an ominous rigidity, the meaning of which was 
 unmistakable. He sounded a blast from the 
 whistle, and the drifting man started violently 
 and turned to see the steamer approaching, 
 and observed hasty preparations for the lower- 
 ing of a boat. The outcast stood immovable, 
 watching the strange apparition, which seemed 
 to have sprung out of the ocean. 
 
 The boat touched the water and shot lustily 
 forward. 
 
 " Pull with all your might, lads, for the man 
 is insane, and is preparing to leap overboard. 
 A big shark is lying in wait for him, and the 
 moment he touches the water he is gone." 
 
 The men did pull with all their might and 
 hallooed to the drifting one and warned him 
 of the shark. 
 
 " Wait a minute," they cried, " and we'll 
 take you on the ship !" 
 
 The purpose of the men seemed at last 
 
 10 145
 
 A GAME OF HONOR 
 
 to have dawned upon the understanding of 
 the outcast. He straightened himself as well 
 as he could into a wretched semblance of dig- 
 nity, and hoarsely replied, 
 
 " No ; I have played a game and lost ; an 
 honest man will pay a debt of honor." 
 
 And with such a light in his eyes as comes 
 only into those whose vision has penetrated 
 the most wonderful of all mysteries, he 
 leaped forth into the sea. 
 
 146
 
 Treacherous Velasco 
 
 OITTING at the open window of her 
 s_y room in the upper story of the farm- 
 house, on the Rancho San Gregorio, Sefiora 
 Violante Ovando de McPherson watched, with 
 the deepest interest, a cloud of dust which rose 
 in the still May air far down the valley ; for it 
 was evident that the color in her cheeks and 
 the sparkle in her violet-black eyes spoke a lan- 
 guage of devotion and happiness. Her husband 
 was coming home, and with him his vaqueros, 
 after a tedious drive of cattle to San Francisco. 
 He had been gone but a month ; but what an 
 interminable absence that is to a wife of a year ! 
 She had watched the fading of the wild golden 
 poppies ; she had seen the busy workers of 
 the bee-hives laying up their stores of honey 
 culled from the myriads of flowers which car- 
 peted the valley ; and she had ridden over the 
 Gabilan Hills to see the thousands of her hus- 
 band's cattle which dotted them. She had 
 been respedlful of her housekeeping duties,
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 and had direfted Alice, the sewing-girl, in the 
 making of garments for the approaching hot 
 season. Yet, busy as she thought she was, and 
 important as she imagined herself to be in the 
 management of the great ranch, time had 
 dragged itself by in manacles. But now was 
 coming the cloud of dust to lift the cloud of 
 loneliness ; and if ever a young wife's heart 
 quickened with gladness, it was hers. 
 
 Presently the fine young Scotchman leaped 
 from his horse, clasped his wife in his arms, 
 asked a few hurried questions concerning her 
 welfare during his absence, untied a small buck- 
 skin bag which depended from the pommel of 
 his saddle, and, remarking, "I thought you 
 might need some spending-money, Violante," 
 held up the bag containing gold, containing a 
 hundred times more gold than her simple 
 tastes and restricted opportunities would per- 
 mit her to employ. But was not her Robert 
 the most generous of men ? Other eyes than 
 hers saw it those of Basilio Velasco, one of 
 the vaqueros ; a small, swarthy man, with the 
 blackest and sharpest of eyes, in which just 
 then was a strange glitter. 
 
 What a handsome couple were the young 
 husband and wife, as, arm-in-arm, they entered 
 the house he so large, and red, and masculine; 
 148
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 she so dark, and reliant, and feminine ! Beauti- 
 ful Spanish girls were plentiful in those youth- 
 ful days of California ; but Violante had been 
 known as the most beautiful of all the maidens 
 between the Santa Barbara Channel and the 
 Bay of Monterey. Hard-headed and fiery- 
 tempered Scotch Presbyterian; gentle, patient, 
 and faithful Catholic ; they were the happiest 
 and most devoted of couples. 
 
 " Well, little Violante," he said, " take the 
 bag up to your room, and give us dinner ; for 
 before we rest we must ride over to the range 
 and look after the cattle, and after that you and 
 I shall have a good, long visit." 
 
 These pleasant duties were quickly dis- 
 patched, and the dusty men, led by her hus- 
 band, galloped away. From the open window 
 of her room she saw the receding cloud of 
 dust, wondering at that urgent sense of duty 
 which could make so fond a husband leave her, 
 even though for a short time, after so long a 
 separation. Thus she sat, dreamily thinking 
 of her great happiness in having him once 
 again at home, and drinking in the rich per- 
 fume of the racemes of wistaria-blossoms which 
 covered the massive vine against the house. 
 This old vine, springing from the ground be- 
 neath the window at which she sat, spread its 
 149
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 long arms almost completely over that part of 
 the wall, divided on either side for the window, 
 and hung gracefully from beneath the eaves, 
 embowering their lovely owner in a tangled 
 mass of purple blossoms. It was an exquisite 
 pifture the pretty wife sitting there, in the 
 whitest of lawns, looking out over the hills 
 from this frame of gorgeous flowers all the 
 more charming from her unconsciousness of 
 its beauty. Behind her, at the opposite side 
 of the room, sat her maid, Alice, sewing in 
 silence. 
 
 As the sefiora looked dreamily over the 
 hills, she became aware of the peculiar aftions 
 of a man on horseback, who was approaching 
 the house from the direction in which her hus- 
 band and the vaqueros had disappeared. That 
 which summoned her attention was the fadl 
 that the man was approaching by an irregular 
 route, which no ordinary circumstance would 
 have required. He had such a way of keep- 
 ing behind the trees that she could not deter- 
 mine his identity. It looked strange and mys- 
 terious, and something impelled her to drop 
 the lace curtain over the window, for behind 
 it she could watch without danger of being 
 seen. 
 
 The horseman disappeared, and this made 
 150
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 her uneasiness all the greater, but she said 
 nothing to Alice. Soon she noticed the man 
 on foot approaching the house, in a watchful, 
 skulking fashion, slipping from one tree or one 
 bit of shrubbery to another. Then, with a 
 swift run, he came near, and, stealthily and 
 noiselessly as a cat, began to ascend to her win- 
 dow by clambering up the wistaria-vine. Her 
 spirit quailed and her cheeks blanched when 
 she saw the naked blade of a dagger held be- 
 tween his teeth. She understood his mission 
 it was her life and the gold ; and the glit- 
 tering eyes of the robber she recognized as 
 those of Basilio Velasco. After a moment of 
 nerveless terror the ancient resisting blood of 
 the Ovandos sprang into alert adlivity, and this 
 gentlest and sweetest of young women armed 
 her soul to meet Death on his own ground 
 and his own terms, and try the issue with 
 him. 
 
 She gave no alarm, for there was none in 
 the house except herself and Alice. To have 
 given way to fear would have destroyed her 
 only hope of life. Quietly, in a low tone, 
 she said, 
 
 "Alice, listen, but do not say a word." 
 There was an impressiveness in her manner 
 that startled the nervous, timid girl ; but there
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 were also in it a strength and a self-reliance 
 that reassured her. She dropped her work 
 and regarded her mistress with wonder. " Look 
 in the second drawer of the bureau. You will 
 find a pistol there. Bring it to me quickly, 
 without a word, for a man is clambering up the 
 vine under my window to rob me, and if we 
 make any outcry or lose our heads we are 
 dead. Place full confidence in me, and it will 
 be all right." 
 
 Alice, numb and nervous with fear, found 
 the pistol and brought it to her mistress. 
 
 " Go and sit down and keep quiet," she was 
 told ; and this she did. 
 
 Violante, seeing that the weapon was loaded, 
 cocked it, and glanced out the window. Ba- 
 silio was climbing very slowly and carefully, 
 fearing that the least disturbance of the vine 
 would alarm the sefiora. When he had come 
 sufficiently near to make her aim sure,Violante 
 suddenly thrust aside the curtain, leaned out 
 the window, and brought the barrel of the 
 weapon in line with Velasco's head. 
 
 " What do you want, Basilio ?" she asked. 
 
 Hearing the musical voice, the Spaniard 
 quickly looked up. Had the bullet then im- 
 prisoned in the weapon been sent crashing 
 through his vitals, he would have received 
 152
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 hardly a greater shock than that which quiv- 
 ered through his nerves when he saw the 
 black barrel of the pistol, the small but steady 
 hand which held it aimed at his brain, and the 
 pale and beauti ul face above it. Thus hold- 
 ing the robber at her mercy, she said firmly to 
 the girl, 
 
 " Alice, there is nothing to fear now. Run 
 as fast as you can to the west end of the house, 
 about a hundred yards away, and you will 
 find this man's horse tied there somewhere in 
 the shrubbery. Mount it, and ride as fast as 
 God will let you. Find my husband, and tell 
 him I have a robber as prisoner." 
 
 The girl, almost fainting, passed out of the 
 room, found the horse, and galloped away, 
 leaving these two mortal enemies facing each 
 other. 
 
 Velasco had heard all this, and he heard the 
 horse clattering up the road to the range be- 
 yond the hills of Gabilan. The pifture of a 
 fierce and angry young Scotchman dashing up 
 to the house and slaying him without a parley 
 needed no elaboration in his dazed imagination. 
 He gazed steadily at the senora and she at 
 him ; and, while he saw a strange pity and a 
 sorrow in her glance, he saw also an unyielding 
 determination. He could not speak, for the 
 153
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 knife between his teeth held his tongue a pris- 
 oner. If only he could plead with her and 
 beg for his life ! 
 
 " Basilio," she quietly said, seeing that he 
 was preparing to release one hand by finding 
 a firmer hold for the other, " if you take either 
 of your hands away from the vine I will shoot 
 you. Keep perfectly still. If you make the 
 least movement, I will shoot. You have seen 
 me throw apples in the air and send a bullet 
 through every one with this pistol." 
 
 There was no boastfulness in this, and Ve- 
 lasco knew it to be true. 
 
 " I would have given you money, Basilio, 
 if you had asked me for it ; but to come thus 
 with a knife ! You would have killed me, 
 Basilio, and I have never been unkind to 
 you." 
 
 If he could only remove the dagger from his 
 mouth ! Surely one so kind and gentle as she 
 would let him go in peace if he could only 
 plead with her! But to let the dagger fall 
 from his teeth would be to disarm himself, and 
 he was hardly ready for that ; and there was 
 much thinking and planning to be done within 
 a very few minutes. 
 
 Velasco, still with his gaze on the black hole 
 in the pistol-barrel, soon made a discouraging
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 discovery ; the position in which he had been 
 arrested was insecure and uncomfortable, and 
 the unusual strain that it brought upon his mus- 
 cles became painful and exhausting. To shift 
 his position even in the smallest way would be 
 to invite the bullet. As the moments^flew the 
 strain upon particular sets of muscles increased 
 his pain with alarming rapidity, and uncon- 
 sciously he began to speculate upon the length 
 of time that remained before his suffering 
 would lead him into recklessness and death. 
 While he was thus approaching a very agony 
 of pain, with the end of all human endurance 
 not far away, another was suffering in a differ- 
 ent manner, but hardly less severely. 
 
 The beautiful sefiora held the choice of two 
 lives in the barrel of her pistol ; but that she 
 should thus hold any life at all was a matter 
 that astounded, perplexed, and agonized her ; 
 that she had the courage to be in so extraordi- 
 nary a position amazed her beyond estimation. 
 Now, when one reflects that one is courageous, 
 one's courage is questionable. And then, she 
 was really so tender-hearted that she wondered 
 if she could make good her threat to shoot if 
 the murderer should move. That he believed 
 she would was sufficient. 
 
 But after the arrival of her husband what 
 IS5
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 then ? With his passionate nature could he 
 resist the temptation to cut the fellow's throat 
 before her very eyes ? That was too horrible 
 to think of. But God ! the robber himself 
 had a knife ! By thus summoning her husband 
 was she not inviting him to a mortal struggle 
 with a desperate man better armed than he ? 
 It would have been easy to liberate Basilio and 
 let him go his way ; but she knew that her 
 husband would follow and find him. Now 
 that the mischief of notifying him had been 
 done, it was best to keep the prisoner with 
 her, that she might plead for his life. Therein 
 lay her hope that she could avert the shedding 
 of blood by either of the men. Her suspense ; 
 her self-questionings ; her dread of a terrible 
 termination to an incident which already had 
 assumed the shape of a tragedy ; her fearful 
 responsibility; the menacing possibility that 
 she herself, in simple defence of her life, might 
 have to kill Basilio ; her trepidation on the 
 score of her aim and the reliability of the pis- 
 tol all these things and others were wearing 
 her out ; and at last she, too, began to wonder 
 how long she could bear the strain, and 
 whether or not her husband would arrive in 
 time to save her. 
 
 Meanwhile, Velasco, racked to the marrow 
 156
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 by the pains which tortured him, and driven 
 by a desire to drop the dagger and plead for 
 his life and by fear of parting with his weapon, 
 was urged to despair, and finally to despera- 
 tion. All the supplication that his face and 
 eyes could show pleaded eloquently for him, 
 and with this silent pleading came evidence of 
 his physical agony. The muscles of his arms 
 and legs twitched and trembled, and his labored 
 breathing hissed as it split upon the edge of 
 the knife. He was unable longer to control 
 the muscles of his lips ; the keen edge of his 
 weapon found a way into the flesh at either 
 side of his mouth, and two small streams of 
 blood trickled down his chin and fell upon 
 his breast. Not for a moment did he take his 
 gaze from her eyes ; and thus these two re- 
 garded each other in a silence and a stillness 
 that were terrible. A crisis had to come. Here 
 was a test of nerve that inevitably would make 
 a vitim of one or the other. The speftacle of 
 the man's agony, the pitiful sight of his implor- 
 ing look, were more than the feminine flesh 
 of which Violante was composed could bear. 
 The crash came Basilio was the first to 
 break down. Whether voluntarily or not, he 
 released his hold upon the knife, which went 
 clattering through the vine-branches to the 
 '57
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 ground. In another instant his tongue, now 
 free, began pouring forth a supplication in the 
 Spanish language with an eloquence which 
 Violante had never heard equalled. 
 
 " Oh, seiiora !" he said, " who but an angel 
 could show a mercy tenderer than human ? 
 And yet, as I hope for the mercy of the Holy 
 Virgin, there are a sweetness and a kindness 
 in your face that belong to an angel of mercy. 
 Oh, Mother of God ! surely thy unworthy son 
 has been brought into this strait for the trying 
 of his soul, and for its chastisement and puri- 
 fication at the hands of thy sweetest and 
 gentlest of daughters ; for thou hast put it into 
 her heart which is as pure as her face is 
 beautiful to spare me from a most horrible 
 end. Thou hast whispered into her mother- 
 soul that one of thy sons, however base and 
 undeserving, should not be sent unshriven to 
 the judgment-seat of the most Holy Christ, 
 thy son. Through the holy church thou hast 
 enlightened her soul to the duties of a Chris- 
 tian, for in her beautiful face shines the ra- 
 diance of heaven. Ah, seiiora ! see me plead 
 for mercy ! Behold the agonies which beset 
 me, and let my sufferings unlock the door of 
 your heart. Let me go in peace, seiiora ; and 
 you shall find in me a slave all the days of my 
 158
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 life the humblest and most devoted of slaves, 
 happy if you beat me, glorying in my slavery 
 if you starve me, and giving praise to Almighty 
 God if you trample me under your feet. 
 Senora, senora, release me, for time is press- 
 ing I can barely escape if you let me go this 
 instant. Would you have my blood on your 
 hands ? Can you face the Virgin with that ? 
 
 Oh, senora senora " 
 
 Her head swam, and all her senses were 
 afloat in a sea of agonies. Still she looked 
 down into his eyes as he continued his plead- 
 ings, but the outlines of his body were waver- 
 ing and uncertain, and inexpressible suffering 
 numbed her faculties. Still she listened 
 vaguely to his outpouring of speech ; and it 
 was not until her husband, with two of his 
 vaqueros, dashed up on horseback that either 
 of these two strangely situated sufferers was 
 aware of his approach. Seeing him, Violante 
 threw her arms abroad, and the pistol went 
 flying to the ground ; and then she sank down 
 to the floor, and the brilliant sunshine became 
 night and the shining glories of the day all 
 nothingness. 
 
 # # # * * * * 
 She awoke and found herself lying on her 
 bed, with her husband sitting beside her, 
 159
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 caressing her hands and watching her anx- 
 iously. It was a little time before she could 
 summon her faculties to exercise and to an 
 understanding of her husband's endearing 
 words ; but, seeing him safe with her, her next 
 thought was of Velasco. 
 
 " Where is Basilio ?" she asked, starting up 
 and looking fearfully about. 
 
 " He is safe, my dear one. Think no more 
 of Basilio, who would have harmed my Vio- 
 lante. Be calm, for my sake, sweet wife." 
 
 " Oh, I can't, I can't ! You must tell me 
 about Basilio." And, in a frightened whisper, 
 she asked, " Did you kill him ?" 
 
 " No, loved one ; Basilio is alive." 
 
 She sank back upon her pillow. " God be 
 praised !" she whispered. 
 
 Suddenly she started again and looked keenly 
 into her husband's eyes. " You have never 
 deceived me," she hurriedly said ; " but, 
 Robert, I must know the truth. Have no 
 fear I can bear it. For God's sake, my hus- 
 band, tell me the truth !" 
 
 Alarmed, he took her in his arms, and said, 
 " Be calm, my Violante ; for as the Almighty 
 is my witness, Basilio is alive." 
 
 " Alive ! alive !" she cried ; " what does that 
 mean ? You are keeping something back, my 
 160
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 husband. I know your passionate nature too 
 well you could not let him off so easily. 
 Tell me the whole truth, Robert, or I shall go 
 mad !" 
 
 There was a frantic earnestness in this that 
 would have made evasion unwise. 
 
 "I will, Violante; I will. Listen for 
 upon my soul, this is the whole truth : When 
 I saw you drop the pistol and sink back upon 
 the floor, I knew that you had fainted. I 
 ordered the vaqueros to secure the weapon 
 and make Basilio descend to the ground. 
 Then I ran upstairs, placed you on the bed, 
 loosened your clothing, and did what I could 
 to restore you. But you remained uncon- 
 scious " 
 
 " Basilio ! Basilio ! tell me about him." 
 
 " I went to the window and sent one of the 
 men to the hacienda for a doftor for you, and 
 told the other to bring Basilio to this room. 
 He came in very weak and trembling, for he 
 had fallen from the vine and was slightly 
 stunned, but not much hurt. He expefted 
 me to kill him here in this room, but I could 
 not do that I was afraid on your account, 
 Violante. He was very quiet and ill " 
 
 " Hurry, Robert, hurry !" 
 
 " He said nothing. I spoke to him. He 
 " 161
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 hung his head and asked me if I would let him 
 pray. I told him I would not kill him. A 
 great light broke over his face. He fell at my 
 feet and clasped my knees and kissed my boots 
 and wept like a child. It was pitiful, Vio- 
 lante." 
 
 " Poor Basilio !" 
 
 " He begged me to punish him. He re- 
 moved his shirt and implored me to beat him. 
 I told him I would not touch him. He said 
 he would be your slave and mine all his life ; 
 but he insisted that he must make some physi- 
 cal atonement he must be punished. ' Very 
 well,' I said. Then I turned to Nicolas and 
 told him to give Basilio some light punish- 
 ment, as that would relieve his mind. Nicolas 
 took him down and lashed him to the back of 
 a horse, and turned the animal into the horse- 
 corral. Then Nicolas came back and told me 
 what he had done. I replied that it was all 
 right, and that as soon as I could leave you I 
 would go and release Basilio. And then I 
 told Nicolas to go to the range and look up 
 Alice a$d bring her home, for she was too 
 weak to^come back with me." 
 
 " And Basilio is in the corral now ?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 *' How was he lashed to the horse ?" 
 162
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 " I don't know Nicolas didn't tell me ; 
 but you may be sure that he is all right." 
 
 She threw her arms around her husband's 
 neck and kissed him again and again, saying, 
 " My noble, generous husband ! I love you a 
 thousand times more than ever. Now go, 
 Robert, at once, and release Basilio." 
 
 "I can't leave you, dear." 
 
 " You must you shall ! I am fully recov- 
 ered. If you don't go, I will." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 No sooner had he left the room than she 
 sprang out of the bed, caught up a penknife, 
 and noiselessly followed him ; he did not sus- 
 pedl her presence close behind him as he went 
 towards the corral. When they had gone 
 thus a short distance from the house her alert 
 ear caught a peculiar sound that sent icicles 
 through her body. They were feeble cries 
 of human agony, and they came from a direc- 
 tion other than that of the corral. Heedlessly, 
 and therefore unwisely, she ran towards their 
 source, without having summoned her hus- 
 band, and soon she came upon a fearful spec- 
 tacle. 
 
 McPherson pursued his way to the corral ; 
 but when he arrived there he was surprised 
 not to find Basilio in the enclosure. The gate 
 163
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 was closed the horse to which he was lashed 
 could not have escaped through it. Looking 
 about, he read the signs of a commotion that 
 must have occurred among the horses, caused, 
 undoubtedly, by the strange sight of a man 
 lashed in some peculiar way to the back of one 
 of their number. The ground was torn by 
 flying hoofs in all directions ; there had been 
 a wild stampede among the animals. Even 
 when he entered, possibly more than a half- 
 hour after Basilio was introduced among them, 
 they were huddled in a corner, and snorted 
 in alarm when he approached them. The 
 horse to which Nicolas had lashed Basilio was 
 not to be seen. Annoyed at the stupidity of 
 Nicolas, McPherson looked about until he 
 found the place in the fence through which 
 Basilio's horse had broken ; only two of the 
 rails had been thrown down. Alarmed and 
 distressed, McPherson leaped over the fence, 
 took up the trail of the horse, and followed it, 
 running. Presently he discovered that the 
 horse, in his mad flight, had broken through 
 the fence enclosing the apiary, and had played 
 havoc among the twenty or more bee-hives 
 therein. Then McPherson saw a speftacle 
 that for a little while took all the strength out 
 of his body. 
 
 164
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 The seflora, guided by a quicker sense than 
 that of her husband, had gone straight to the 
 apiary. There she saw the horse, with Basilio, 
 naked to the waist, strapped upon his back, 
 the animal plunging madly among the bee- 
 hives, kicking them to fragments as the vicious 
 insefts plied him with their stings. Basilio 
 was tied with his face to the sun, which 
 poured its fierce rays into his eyes ; for Nicolas 
 was devoted to the senora, and he had been 
 determined to make matters as uncomfortable 
 for the ingrate as possible. Upon Basilio's 
 unprotected body the bees swarmed by hun- 
 dreds, giving him a score of stings to one for 
 the horse, and he was utterly helpless to pro- 
 tect himself. Already the poison of a thou- 
 sand stings had been poured into his face and 
 body ; his features were hideously swollen and 
 distorted, and his chest was puffed out of re- 
 semblance to a human shape, and was livid and 
 ghastly. 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, the seflora 
 flew through the gate and went to the deliver- 
 ance of Basilio, praying to God with every 
 breath. His cries were feeble, for his strength 
 was nearly gone, and his incredible agony, 
 aided by the poison of the bees, had sent his 
 wits astray. For Violante to approach the 
 165
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 maddened horse and the swarming bees was to 
 offer herself to death ; but what cared she for 
 that, when another's life was at stake ? Into 
 this desperate situation she threw herself. 
 With the coolness of a trained horsewoman, 
 she finally twisted the fingers of one hand into 
 the frantic horse's nostrils, bringing him in- 
 stantly under control. In another moment, 
 unmindful of the stings which the bees inflifted 
 upon her face and hands, she had cut Basilio's 
 lashings and caught his shapeless body in her 
 arms as it slipped to the ground. Then, 
 taking him under the arms, she dragged him, 
 with uncommon strength, from the enclosure 
 and away from the murderous assaults of the 
 bees. 
 
 He moaned ; his head rolled from one side 
 to the other. His eyes were closed by the 
 swelling of the lids, and he could not see her ; 
 but even had this not been so, he was past 
 knowing her. She laid him down in the 
 shade of a great oak, and she saw from his 
 faint and interrupted gasps that in another 
 moment all would be over with him. Uncon- 
 scious of the presence of her husband, who 
 now stood reverently, with uncovered head, 
 behind her, she raised to heaven her blanched 
 face and beautiful eyes, and softly prayed, 
 166
 
 TREACHEROUS VELASCO 
 
 " Holy mother of Jesus, hear the prayer of thy 
 wretched daughter, and intercede for this un- 
 shriven spirit." She glanced down at Basilio, 
 and saw that he was dead. Feebly she stag- 
 gered to her feet, and, seeing her husband, 
 cried out his name, stretched out her arms 
 towards him, and sank unconscious into his 
 strong grasp ; and thus he bore her to the 
 house, kissing her face, while tears streamed 
 down his cheeks. 
 
 167
 
 An Uncommon View of It 
 + 
 
 MR. CLARKE RANDOLPH was stupe- 
 fied by a discovery which he had 
 just made his wife had proved unfaithful, 
 and the betrayer was his nearest friend, Henry 
 Stockton. If there had been the least chance 
 for a doubt, the unhappy husband would have 
 seized upon it, but there was none whatever. 
 
 Let us try to understand what this meant 
 to such a man as Randolph. He was a high- 
 bred, high-spirited man of thirty, descended 
 from a long line of proud and chivalrous men ; 
 educated, refined, sensitive, generous, and 
 brave. His fine talents, his dash, his polished 
 manner, his industry, his integrity, his loftiness 
 of character, had lifted him upon the shoulders 
 of popularity and prosperity ; so that, in the 
 city of his home, there was not another man 
 of his age, a member of his profession, the 
 law, who was so well known, so well liked, or 
 wielded such a power. 
 
 He had been married four years. His wife 
 168
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 was beautiful, winning, and intelligent; and 
 she had always had from him the best devo- 
 tion that a husband could give his wife. He 
 and Stockton had been friends for many years. 
 Next to his wife, Randolph had loved and 
 trusted him above all others. 
 
 Such was the situation. At one stroke he had 
 lost his wife, his home, his best friend, his con- 
 fidence in human nature, his spirit, his ambi- 
 tion. These and essentially they were all 
 that made up his life, except the operation of 
 purely animal functions had gone all at once 
 without a moment's warning. 
 
 Well, there was something to be done. A 
 keen sense of the betrayal, a smarting under 
 the gross humiliation, urged him to the natural 
 course of revenge. This, as he sat crouched 
 down in a chair in his locked office, he began 
 systematically to prepare. The first idea 
 always first in such cases was to kill. That, 
 in the case of a man of his spirit and tempera- 
 ment, was a matter of course. Fear of the 
 legal consequences found no place within 
 him. Besides, suicide after the killing would 
 settle that exceedingly small part of the diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 So it was first decided that as the result of 
 this discovery three persons had to die, his 
 169
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 wife, his friend, and himself. Very well ; 
 that took a load from his mind. An orderly 
 and intelligent arrangement of details now had 
 to be worked out. A plan which would 
 bring the largest results in the satisfaction of 
 a desire for revenge must be chosen. The 
 simple death of those two, the bare stoppage 
 of breath, would be wholly inadequate. First, 
 the manner of taking their lives must have the 
 quality of strength and a force which in itself 
 would have a large element of satisfaction ; 
 hence it must be striking, deliberate, brutal 
 if you wish, revolting if you are particular. 
 Second, it must be preceded by exposure, de- 
 nunciation, publication, scorn, contempt, and 
 terror. 
 
 That much was good what next ? There 
 were various available means for taking life. 
 A revolver suggested itself. It makes a dark, 
 red spot ; the very sight of the weapon, held 
 steadily and longer than necessary, levelled at 
 the place where the spot is to appear, is terri- 
 fying ; there is a look of fright ; then uplifted 
 arms, an appeal for mercy, a protest of inno- 
 cence, a cry to God ; after that the crash, a 
 white face, a toppling to the floor, eyes rolled 
 upward, bluish lips apart, a dark pool on the 
 carpet all that was very good. The wretched 
 170
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 man felt better now that he was beginning to 
 think so clearly. 
 
 But there was poison also poison in va- 
 riety : arsenic, which burns and corrodes, 
 causing great pain, often for hours ; strychnine, 
 which afts through the nerves, producing con- 
 vulsions and sometimes a fixed distortion of 
 the features, which even the relaxation of 
 death cannot remove ; corrosive sublimate, 
 prussic acid, cyanide of potassium too quick 
 and deadly. It must be a poison, if poison at 
 all, which will bring about a sensible progres- 
 sion through perceptible stages of suffering, so 
 that during this time the efficiency of physical 
 pain may be raised by the addition of mental 
 suffering. 
 
 Were these all the methods ? Yes enough 
 for this purpose. Then, which should it be 
 revolver or poison ? It was a difficult prob- 
 lem. Let it first be settled that the three 
 should be together, locked in a room, and 
 that the two guilty ones should suffer first, one 
 at a time. 
 
 The revolver won. 
 
 Randolph was in the aft of leaving his 
 
 office to go and buy the weapon, when he was 
 
 startled by what he saw in his office-mirror. 
 
 It required a moment for him to recognize 
 
 171
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 his own reflection. His face was unnaturally 
 white ; a discoloration was under his eyes, 
 which had a glassy appearance ; his lips were 
 pressed tightly together, the corners of his 
 mouth drawn down, large dark veins standing 
 out on his temples. Fearing that if, while in 
 this condition, he should apply to a gunsmith 
 for a revolver he would be refused, he stood 
 for some time before the mirror trying to 
 restore the natural expression of his face. He 
 kneaded his lips to remove their stiffness, 
 pinched his cheeks to bring back their color, 
 rubbed down the ridged veins, and scraped a 
 little of the white plaster from the wall and 
 with it concealed the dark color under his 
 eyes. Then he went forth with a firm step, 
 bought the revolver without difficulty, tried it, 
 satisfied himself that it was reliable, loaded it, 
 put it into his pocket, and returned to his 
 office. 
 
 For there were certain matters of property 
 to be attended to. He had a considerable 
 fortune, all his separate possession ; his wife 
 had brought him nothing. He now felt suffi- 
 ciently clear-minded to dispose of his estate 
 intelligently. He drew his will a holo- 
 graphic instrument devising his wealth to 
 various persons and benevolent societies. 
 172
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 He glanced at his office-clock. There 
 would be four long hours yet before the time 
 for going home to dinner. Fortunately for his 
 plans, Stockton was to dine with them that 
 evening, and neither of the guilty ones knew 
 that they had been discovered. How should 
 Randolph employ these weary hours ? There 
 was nothing to do, nothing even to think of. 
 He tried to read a newspaper, then a book, and 
 failed ; looked out upon the crowds which 
 thronged the street ; counted the passing cars 
 awhile ; tried other things, failed at every- 
 thing, and then sat down. 
 
 Something was beginning to work in the 
 wretched man. Let us see : his wife, while 
 pretending the warmest affeftion for him, was 
 receiving the guilty attentions of a traitor in 
 the house ; she had betrayed her husband, had 
 wrecked his life, had driven him to his death. 
 Really, therefore, she had swept aside all the 
 obligations which the marriage relation im- 
 posed. In essence she was no longer his 
 wife, but a criminal enemy who, with delib- 
 erate and abounding malice, had destroyed 
 him. He could go to the grave with a willing 
 heart, but he could not permit her to live and 
 enjoy his downfall and gloat over his destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 173
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 But would she really do that ? And, then, 
 God ! she was a woman ! In spite of all 
 that she had done, she was a woman! A 
 strong man, his strength reinforced by a re- 
 volver, employs deception to bring a woman 
 into a room, locks the door, insults, humili- 
 ates, and terrifies her, brandishes a revolver, 
 and then kills her like a rat in its hole. Can 
 a brave man, of mature judgment and in pos- 
 session of his faculties, do such a thing? 
 Why, it would be not only murder, but cow- 
 ardice as well ! No ; it could not be done. 
 She was still a woman, with all the weakness, 
 all the frailty which her sex imposed. It 
 could not be done. 
 
 After all, it would be far sweeter revenge to 
 let her live, bearing through life a brand of 
 infamy. That would be much better. She 
 would lose her high position and the respedt 
 of her friends ; the newspapers would publish 
 her shame to the world, pointing her out by 
 name as the depraved woman who had be- 
 trayed her husband and driven him to murder 
 and suicide ; they would have her portrait in 
 their columns ; her name and crime would be 
 hawked upon the street by loud-crying news- 
 boys ; sermons denouncing her would be 
 preached in all the churches ; her shame 
 174
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 would be discussed everywhere in homes, 
 shops, hotels, and bar-rooms in many cities. 
 
 Not only that, but she would be stripped 
 of all the property which she had enjoyed so 
 much. She would be turned adrift upon the 
 streets, for no one would help her, none have 
 a kind word for her, none give her even the 
 respect which money might command. Being 
 thus turned out upon the world all friendless 
 and alone, and being naturally depraved, she 
 would seek the prote&ion of fast and shady 
 men. Thus started, and soon taking to drink, 
 as such women always do, down she would 
 plunge into a reckless and shameless career, 
 sinking lower and lower, losing her beauty ; 
 becoming coarse, loud, and vulgar ; then, ar- 
 riving at that stage when her beauty no longer 
 could be a source of revenue, drifting into vile 
 dens, consorting with the lowest and most 
 brutal blackguards, finding herself dragged 
 often before police-magistrates, first for drunk- 
 enness and then for theft, serving short terms 
 in prison with others as low; finally, one 
 night brought shrieking with delirium tremens 
 to the police-station, bundled out to the hos- 
 pital, strapped firmly to an iron bed, and then 
 dying with foul oaths on her lips such a life 
 would be infinitely worse than death ; such
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 revenge immeasurably vaster than that of the 
 pistol. Then it was finally decided that she 
 must live and suffer. 
 
 As to the friend as to Stockton, the be- 
 trayer, the sneak, the coward be should die 
 like a dog. That decision could not be recon- 
 sidered. He should not be granted the privi- 
 lege of a duel, for not only was he wholly 
 undeserving of such consideration, but by such 
 means his life might be spared. Undoubtedly 
 she loved him ; perhaps he loved her. He 
 living and the husband killed in a duel, their 
 satisfaction would be doubled having wrecked 
 and humiliated him and driven him to despair, 
 they then killed him. After that they could 
 enjoy each other's society openly, unmolested, 
 and without fear of deteftion or punishment. 
 Besides, they might marry and both be happy. 
 This was unthinkable. He must be killed, he 
 must die like a dog, and he must go to his 
 death with a foul stain on his name. 
 
 These things being settled, the wretched 
 man reread the will. As the woman was to 
 live, she must be mentioned in the document. 
 He tore up the will and wrote another, in 
 which he bequeathed her one dollar, setting 
 forth her shame as the reason for so small a 
 bequest. Then he wrote out a separate state- 
 176
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 ment of the whole affair, sealed it, addressed 
 it to the coroner, and placed it in his pocket. 
 It would be found there after awhile. 
 
 Well, why this trembling in every member, 
 this unaccountable nausea, this unconquerable 
 feeling of horror and repugnance as the draft 
 of the pifture was contemplated ? Did instinft 
 arise and dumbly plead for mercy? What 
 mercy had been shown that mercy could be 
 expefted ? None whatever. There was not 
 only revenge to be satisfied, but justice also. 
 Still, it was horrible ! Admit that she de- 
 served it all, deserved even more, she was a 
 woman ! No aft of hers could deprive her of 
 her natural claims upon the stronger sex. As 
 a woman she had inalienable rights which 
 even she could not forfeit, which men may 
 not withhold. And then, where could be the 
 benefit of adding physical suffering to mental ? 
 One surely would weaken the force of the 
 other. The lower she should fall and the 
 deeper her degradation, the smaller would be- 
 come the efficiency of her mental agony ; and 
 yet mental suffering was the kind which it was 
 desired should fall upon her. 
 
 It would be well, therefore, to leave her 
 some money a considerable amount of money 
 in order that, holding herself above the 
 
 12 177
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 want which, in her case, would lead to degra- 
 dation and a blunting of the sensibilities, she 
 might suffer all the more keenly; in order 
 that the memory of her shame might be for- 
 ever poignant, forever a cause for the sharpest 
 regrets. This would be better in other ways : 
 her shame published, she could never associate 
 with those fine characters who had been her 
 friends ; her lover dead and his memory dis- 
 graced, he could not be present to console 
 her; for society she would have only those 
 whom her fortune would attract, and they 
 were not of a kind to satisfy such a woman as 
 she ; she would always be within sight of the 
 old life and its pleasures, but just beyond the 
 pale sufficiently near to see and long for, but 
 too far to reach, and forever kept back by the 
 cold glance of contempt and disdain from the 
 high circle in which she had been reared. 
 
 Therefore, it were better to leave her the 
 bulk of his fortune. So he tore up the second 
 will and wrote a third, in which, while 
 naming her as his principal legatee, he incor- 
 porated the story of her shame. He felt 
 better now than at any other time since his 
 discovery. He walked about the room, 
 looked out the window, then fell into his 
 chair again. 
 
 178
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 How strangely alike in many respefts are 
 all animals, including man ! he thought. There 
 are qualities and passions common to them all, 
 hate, fear, anger, revenge, love, fondness for 
 offspring. In what is man superior to the 
 others ? Manifestly in self-control, a sense of 
 justice, the attribute of mercy, the quality of 
 charity, the power to forgive, the force of 
 benevolence, the operation of gratitude ; an 
 appreciation of abstractions ; an ability to 
 compare, contrast, and adjust ; consciousness 
 of an inherent tendency to higher and better 
 achievements. To the extent that he lacks 
 these does he approach more closely to the 
 lower orders. To the degree that the passions 
 common to all have mastery over him does he 
 lack the finer qualities which distinguish his 
 species. The desire to kill when hurt, an- 
 gered, or threatened is the stronger the lower 
 we descend in the scale of the orders the 
 lower we descend even among the members of 
 the same order. The least developed men are 
 the most brutal. Revenge is the malice of anger. 
 
 It is strange that his thoughts should have 
 taken such a turn ! 
 
 And then, the fundamental instinft which 
 guards the perpetuation of the species is com- 
 mon to all, and its manifestations are controlled 
 179
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 by a universal law, whose simple variations do 
 not impair its integrity. Love and mating 
 these are the broad lines upon which the per- 
 petuation of the species starts. What possible 
 abstractions are there in them ? Is not their 
 character concrete and visible ? Whatever fine 
 sentiments are evolved, we know their source 
 and comprehend their function. There is no 
 mystery here. 
 
 What is this jealousy, which all animals 
 may have ? It is an instinctive resentment, by 
 one of a mated pair, of something which inter- 
 feres with a pleasant established system, the 
 basis of which is perpetuation of the species. 
 Higher mankind has the ability to dissedl it, 
 analyze it, understand it, and guard against its 
 harmful operation ; herein lie distinguishing 
 qualities of superiority. If, when his jealousy 
 is roused, he is. unable to aft any differently 
 from the lion, the horse, or the dog, then, in 
 that regard, he is not superior to them. Man, 
 being an eater of meat, is a savage animal, like 
 the dog, the tiger, the panther, the lion. His 
 passions are strong, as are theirs ; but he has 
 qualities which enable him to hold them in 
 check. If an animal have a strong attachment 
 for his mate, he will fight if she be taken from 
 him; this is the operation of jealousy. If he 
 180
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 be a savage animal, he will kill if he can or 
 dare. Few males among the animals will kill 
 their deserting mates ; that is left for man, the 
 noblest of the animals. The others are con- 
 tent to kill the seducer. What thankfulness 
 there is for escape from an aft, so recently 
 contemplated, which would have placed its 
 perpetrator below the level of the most savage 
 of the brutes ! In what, of all that was now 
 proposed to be done, was there any quality to 
 distinguish the afts from those of the most 
 savage brute, except a more elaborate detail, 
 the work of superior malice and ferocity ? Is 
 it a wonder that Randolph shuddered when he 
 thought of it ? 
 
 The broadest characteristic of all animals, 
 including man, is selfishness. In man it 
 reaches its highest form and becomes vanity, 
 pride, and a ridiculous sense of self-importance. 
 But man alone is conscious of its existence, 
 character, and purpose ; he alone encourages 
 its rational development and suppresses the 
 most evil of its abuses. The animal which 
 would fight or kill from jealousy is moved by 
 a selfish motive only. It proceeds to satisfy 
 its anger or gratify its revenge without any 
 regard to the ethics, without any thought of its 
 obligations to nature, without the slightest wish 
 181
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 to inquire whether there may not be in the 
 cause of its jealousy a natural purpose which 
 is proceeding upon the very lines that led to 
 its mating. A man, however, can think of 
 these things, weigh them carefully, understand 
 them approximately, and then advance in the 
 light of wisdom. If not, he is no better, in 
 this regard, than the animal which cannot so 
 reason and understand. 
 
 This manner of thinking was bringing the 
 unhappy man closer to himself. 
 
 Then, having faced the proposition that he 
 had been considering his own case all along, 
 he found the situation to be somewhat like 
 this : He had a certain understanding which 
 should operate to remove him from influences 
 which with men of inferior conceptions would 
 be more powerful; not being a brute, he 
 should rise above impulses which a brute is 
 constrained by its nature to obey. So much 
 was clear. Then what should he do? He 
 pondered this long and seriously. 
 
 Was it possible to wipe out the past with 
 exposure, humiliation, shame, and blood ? He 
 had been proud of her ; he had loved her ; he 
 had been very, very happy with her. She had 
 been his inspiration ; a part of his hopes, ambi- 
 tion, life. True, she had undone all this, but 
 182
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 the memory of it remained. Until this recent 
 aft of shame, she had been kind, unselfish, 
 gentle, and faithful. Who knows why she 
 fell ? Who could sound the depths of this 
 strange mystery ; who measure the capacity of 
 her resistance ; who judge her frailty with a 
 righteous mind ; who say that at that very 
 moment she was not suffering unspeakable 
 things ? And then, was there any one so 
 noble of charafter, with integrity so unfailing 
 and so far beyond temptation, that he might 
 say he was better than she ? Her weakness 
 should we presume to call it depravity when 
 we cannot know, and might we with intelli- 
 gent knowledge of our own conduft lay the 
 whole responsibility upon her, and none upon 
 that which made her ? If we are human, let 
 us seek wherein we may convince ourselves 
 that we are not brutes. Compassion is an 
 attribute of a noble charafter. The test of 
 manhood is the exercise of manly qualities. 
 
 What good would come from this revenge 
 of humiliation and exposure ? It would not 
 mend the wrong ; it would not save life ; it 
 would be only proof of the vanity, the sense 
 of self-importance, of the injured one. Would 
 it be possible to spare her ? Yes. That finally 
 was settled. She should live ; she should have 
 183
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 the property ; she should be left to enjoy life 
 as best she could without the shadow of a 
 stain upon her name. That were the nobler 
 part, the test of manhood. And then, the 
 past could not be forgotten ! 
 
 Randolph felt so much better after arriving 
 at this decision that he marvelled at himself. 
 He walked about the room feeling strong and 
 elastic. He tore up the will because it 
 charged her crime upon her ; tore up the 
 letter to the coroner ; colledled all the scraps 
 of paper and carefully burned them. Then 
 he drew a new will, free from stain, leaving 
 all his property to his wife. He did not only 
 that, but he wrote her a letter formal, of 
 course merely saying that he had found his 
 life a mistake ; this he sealed, addressed, and 
 placed in his pocket. 
 
 Stockton the false friend, the betrayer and 
 destroyer he should die, he should die like a 
 dog. But not with a stain on his name that 
 were impossible, because it would refleft upon 
 ber, 
 
 Here was a new situation. The two men 
 would be found dead, likely in the same room 
 the friend and the husband. What would 
 people think ? A duel ? For what reason ? 
 Murder and suicide ? Who had handled the 
 184
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 weapon, and for what possible cause ? The 
 road which suspicion would travel was too 
 short and wide. The fair name of the wife 
 was to be guarded that had been decided 
 upon, and now it was the first considera- 
 tion. 
 
 There were other matters to be thought of. 
 Suppose that Stockton had been the husband 
 and Randolph the friend. God ! let us 
 think. Have brutes, frenzied with rage and 
 jealousy, the power to hold nature's mirror 
 before the heart, to feel compassion, to exer- 
 cise charity, to weigh with a steady hand the 
 weaknesses and frailties of their kind, to feel 
 humility, to bow the head before the inscruta- 
 ble ways of nature ? Have they not ? No ? 
 Well, then, have men? If they have not, 
 they are no better in that regard than brutes. 
 Besides, would it punish Stockton to kill 
 him ? There can be no punishment in death ; 
 it can be only in dying ; but even dying is not 
 unpleasant, and death is the absence of suffer- 
 ing. There was no way under heaven to give 
 him adequate punishment. 
 
 Nor was that all. She loved him that 
 
 must be so. What would be the benefit of 
 
 removing him from her life? It would be 
 
 merely revenge revenge upon both of them ; 
 
 185
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 and where lies the nobility of such revenge ? 
 If they both should live, both go unexposed, 
 they might be happy together. 
 
 After all, whom would that disturb, with 
 whose pleasure interfere ? Surely no sound 
 of their happiness could penetrate the grave ; 
 violence would be done to none of nature's 
 laws. Why should they not be happy ? If 
 they could, why should they not ? Was there 
 any reason under the sun that wisdom, charity, 
 compassion, and a high manhood could give 
 why they should not be happy ? 
 
 But suppose that she should suspeft the 
 cause of her husband's suicide ; this would 
 likely poison her life, for the consciousness 
 of guilt would give substance to suspicion. 
 The result would be an abhorrence of self, a 
 detestation of the participant in her sin, a 
 belief that the blood of her husband was upon 
 her head, and a long train of evils which 
 would seriously impair, if not wholly destroy, 
 the desired serenity of her life. Was there 
 any way to prevent the birth of such a sus- 
 picion ? 
 
 Yes ; there was a way. As soon as Ran- 
 dolph had worked it out he felt as if an enor- 
 mous load had been removed from him. His 
 eyes shone brightly, his cheeks were flushed, 
 186
 
 AN UNCOMMON VIEW OF IT 
 
 and a look of pride and triumph lighted up his 
 face. 
 
 He returned to his chair, removed the re- 
 volver from his pocket, and laid it on the 
 table ; wrote his wife an affectionate letter, in 
 which he told her that he had just become 
 aware of an incurable ailment which he had 
 not the courage to face through months or 
 years of suffering, and begged her to look to 
 Stockton for friendship and advice ; wrote to 
 Stockton, charging him with her protection ; 
 burned the last will that he had made and 
 drew a new one, in which he left them the 
 property jointly, on condition that they marry 
 within two years. Then, with a perfectly 
 clear head, he laid down his pen and sighed, 
 but his face was bright and tranquil. He 
 picked up the revolver, cocked it, placed the 
 muzzle against his temple, and without the 
 tremor of a nerve he pressed the trigger. 
 
 187
 
 A Story Told by the Sea 
 
 ONE night, when the storm had come up 
 from the south, apparently for the sole 
 purpose of renewing war with its old enemy, 
 the Peninsula of Monterey, I left the ancient 
 town, crossed the neck of the peninsula, and 
 descended on the other side of the Santa Lucia 
 slope to see the mighty battle on Carmel Bay. 
 The tearing wind, which, charged with 
 needles of rain, assailed me sharply, did nobler 
 work with the ocean and the cypresses, send- 
 ing the one upon a riotous course and rending 
 the other with groans. I arrived upon a cliff 
 just beyond a pebbly beach, and with bared 
 head and my waistcoat open, stood facing the 
 ocean and the storm. It was not a cold night, 
 though a winter storm was at large ; but it was 
 a night of blind agonies and struggles, in 
 which a mad wind lashed the sea and a mad- 
 dened sea assailed the shore, while a flying 
 rain and a drenching spray dimmed the sombre 
 colors of the scene. It was a night for the 
 188
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 sea to talk in its travail and yield up some of 
 its mysteries. 
 
 I left the cliff and went a little distance to 
 the neighborhood of a Chinese fishing-station, 
 where there was a sand-beach ; and here, after 
 throwing off my coat and waistcoat, I went 
 down to have a closer touch with my treach- 
 erous friend. The surf sprang at me, and the 
 waves, retreating gently, beckoned me to fur- 
 ther ventures, which I made with a knowledge 
 of my ground, but with a love of this sweet 
 danger also. A strong breaker lifted me from 
 my footing, but I outwitted it and pursued it 
 in retreat ; there came another afterwards, and 
 it was armed, for, towering above me, it came 
 down upon me with a bludgeon, which fell 
 heavily upon me. I seized it, but there my 
 command upon my powers ceased ; and the 
 wave, returning, bore me out. A blindness, a 
 vague sense of suffocation, an uncertain effort 
 of instinft to regain my hold upon the ground, 
 a flight through the air, a soft fall upon the 
 sand it was thus that I was saved; and I 
 still held in my hand the weapon with which 
 my old friend had dealt me the blow. 
 
 It was a bottle. Afterwards, in my room 
 at Monterey, I broke it and found within it a 
 writing of uncommon interest. After weeks 
 189
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 of study and deciphering (for age and imper- 
 fedl execution made the task serious and the 
 result uncertain), I put together such frag- 
 ments of it as had the semblance of coherence ; 
 and I found that the sea in its travail had 
 yielded up one of its strangest mysteries. No 
 hope of a profitable answer to this earnest cry 
 for help prompts its publication ; it is brought 
 forth rather to show a novel and fearful form 
 of human suffering, and also to give knowledge 
 possibly to some who, if they be yet alive, 
 would rather know the worst than nothing. 
 The following is what my labor has accom- 
 plished : 
 
 I am Amasa D. Keating, an unhappy wretch, 
 who, with many others, am suffering an ex- 
 traordinary kind of torture ; and so great is the 
 mental disturbance which I suffer, that I fear 
 I shall not be able to make an intelligent 
 report. I am but just from a scene of incon- 
 ceivable terrors, and, although I am a man of 
 some education and usually equal to the task 
 of intelligent expression, I am now in a con- 
 dition of violent mental disturbance, and of 
 great physical suffering as well, which I fear 
 will prove a hindrance to the understanding of 
 him who may find this report. At the outset, 
 I most earnestly beg such one to use the swift- 
 190
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 est diligence in publishing the matter of this 
 writing, to the end that haply an expedition 
 for our relief may be outfitted without delay ; 
 for, if the present state of affairs continue 
 much longer with those whom I have left 
 behind, any measure taken for their relief 
 will be useless. As for myself and my com- 
 panion, we expedl nothing but death. 
 
 I will hasten to the material part of my 
 narrative, with the relation only of so much 
 of the beginning as may serve for our identifi- 
 cation. 
 
 On the 1 4th of Oftober, 1852, we sailed 
 from Boston in the brig " Hopewell," Captain 
 Campbell, bound for the islands of the South 
 Pacific Ocean. We carried a cargo of general 
 merchandise, with the purpose of trading with 
 the natives ; but we desired also to find some 
 suitable island which we might take possession 
 of in the name of the United States and settle 
 upon for our permanent home. With this end 
 in view, we had formed a company and bought 
 the brig, so that it might remain our property 
 and be used as a means of communication be- 
 tween us and the civilized world. These 
 fafts and many others are so familiar to our 
 friends in Boston, that I deem it wholly un- 
 necessary to set them forth in fuller detail. 
 191
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 The names of all our passengers and crew 
 stand upon record in Boston, and are not needed 
 to be written here for ampler identification. 
 
 No ill-fortune assailed us until we arrived in 
 the neighborhood of the Falkland Islands. 
 Cape Horn wore its ugliest aspeft (for the 
 brig was a slow sailer, and the Antarctic sum- 
 mer was well gone before we had encountered 
 bad weather), an unusual thing, Captain 
 Campbell assured us ; from that time forward 
 we had a series of misfortunes, which ended 
 finally, after two or three months, in a fearful 
 gale, which not only cost some of the crew their 
 lives, but dismasted our vessel. The storm 
 continued, and, the brig being wholly at the 
 mercy of the wind and the sea, we saw that 
 she must founder. We therefore took to the 
 boats with what provisions and other neces- 
 sary things we could stow away. With no 
 land in sight, and in the midst of a boiling sea, 
 which appeared every moment to be on the 
 eve of swamping us, we bent to our oars and 
 headed for the northwest. It is hardly neces- 
 sary to say that we had lost our reckoning ; 
 but, after a manner, we made out that we 
 were nearly in longitude 136.30 west, and 
 about upon the Tropic of Capricorn. This 
 would have made our situation about a hun- 
 
 IQ2
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 dred and seventy miles from a number of small 
 islands lying to the eastward of the one hun- 
 dred and fortieth meridian. The prospeft 
 was discouraging, as there was hardly a sound 
 person in the boats to pull an oar, so badly 
 had the weather used us ; and besides that, the 
 ship's instruments had been lost and our pro- 
 visions were badly damaged. 
 
 Nevertheless, we made some headway. 
 The poor abandoned brig, seemingly conscious 
 of our desertion, behaved in a very singular 
 fashion ; urged doubtless by the wind, she 
 pursued us with pathetic struggles now beam 
 on, again stern foremost, and still again 
 plunging forward with her nose under the 
 water. Her pitching and lurching were 
 straining her heavily, and, with her hold full 
 of water, she evidently could live but a few 
 minutes longer. Meanwhile, it was no small 
 matter for us to keep clear of her, for whether 
 we would pull to this side or that she followed 
 us, and sometimes we were in danger. There 
 came an end, however, for the brig, now heavily 
 water-logged, rose majestically on a great wave 
 and came down side on into the trough ; she 
 made a brave struggle to right herself, but in 
 another moment she went over upon her beam, 
 settled, steadied herself a moment, and then 
 13 193
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 sank straight down like a mass of lead. This 
 brought upon us a peculiar sense of desola- 
 tion ; for, so far as we knew (and Captain 
 Campbell had sailed these seas before), there 
 was hardly a chance of our gaining land alive. 
 
 Much to our surprise, we had not rowed 
 more than twenty knots when (it being about 
 midnight) a fire was sighted off our port bow, 
 that is to say, due west. This gave us so 
 great courage that we rowed heartily towards 
 it, and at three in the morning, to our un- 
 speakable happiness, we dragged our boats 
 upon a beautiful sand-beach. So exhausted 
 were we that with small loss of time we made 
 ourselves comfortable and soon were sound 
 asleep upon firm ground. 
 
 The next sun had done more than half its 
 work before any of us were awake. Except- 
 ing some birds of lively plumage, there was 
 not a living thing in sight ; but no sooner had 
 we begun to stir about than a number of fine 
 brown men approached us simultaneously 
 from different directions. A belt was around 
 their waists, and from it hung a short garment, 
 made of bark woven into a coarse fabric ; and 
 also hanging from the belt was a heavy sword 
 of metal. Undoubtedly the men were sav- 
 ages ; but there was a dignity in their manner 
 194
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 which set them wholly apart from the known 
 inhabitants of these South Sea Islands. Our 
 captain, who understood many of the lan- 
 guages and dialefts of the sub-tropical island- 
 ers, found himself at fault in attempting verbal 
 intercourse with these visitors, but it was not 
 long before we found them exceedingly apt in 
 understanding signs. They showed much 
 commiseration for us, and with manifestations 
 of friendship invited us to follow them and 
 test their hospitality. This we were not slow 
 in doing. 
 
 The island we were made to know on the 
 way was a journey of ten hours long and 
 seven wide, and our eyes gave us proof of its 
 wonderful fecundity of soil, for there were 
 great banana plantations and others of curious 
 kinds of grain. The narrowness of the roads 
 convinced us that there were no wagons or 
 beasts of burden, but there were many evi- 
 dences of a civilization which, for these parts, 
 was of extraordinary development ; such, for 
 instance, as finely cultivated fields and good 
 houses of stone, with such evidences of an 
 aesthetic taste as found expression in the do- 
 mestic cultivation of many of the beautiful 
 flowers which grew upon the island. These 
 matters I mention with some particularity, in
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 order that the island may be recognized by 
 the rescuers for whom we are eagerly pray- 
 ing. 
 
 The town to which we were led is a place 
 of singular beauty. While there is no orderly 
 arrangement of streets (the houses being scat- 
 tered about confusedly), there is a large sense 
 of comfort and room and a fine character of 
 neatness. The buildings are all of rough stone 
 and are not divided into apartments ; the win- 
 dows and doors are hung with matting, giving 
 testimony of an absence of thieves. A little 
 to one side, upon a knoll, is the house of the 
 king, or chief. It is much like the others, 
 except that it is larger, a chamber in front 
 serving as an executive-room, where the king 
 disposes of the business of his rulership. 
 
 Into this audience-room we were led, and 
 presently the king himself appeared. He was 
 dressed with more barbaric profusion than his 
 subjefts ; about his neck and in his ears were 
 many fine pieces of jewelry of gold and silver, 
 evidently the work of European artisans, but 
 worn with a complete disregard of their orig- 
 inal purpose. The king, a large, strong, and 
 handsome man, received us with a kindly 
 smile ; if ever a human face showed kindness 
 of heart, it was his. He had us to understand 
 196
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 at once that we were most welcome, that he 
 sympathized with us in our distress, and that 
 all our wants should be attended to until means 
 should be found for restoring us to our coun- 
 try, or sending us whithersoever else we might 
 desire to go. 
 
 It was not at all likely, he said (for he spoke 
 German a little), that any vessel from the out- 
 side world would ever visit the island, as it 
 appeared to be unknown to navigators, and it 
 was a law upon the island that the inhabitants 
 of no other islands should approach. At certain 
 times of the moon, however, he sent a boat to 
 an island, many leagues away, to bear some 
 rare produces of his people in exchange for 
 other commodities, and, should we so desire, 
 we might be taken, one at a time, in the boat, 
 and thus eventually be put in the way of pass- 
 ing vessels. With what appeared to be an 
 embarrassed hesitation, he informed us that he 
 was compelled to impose a certain mild re- 
 straint upon us one which, he hurried to add, 
 would in no way interfere with our comfort 
 or pleasure. This was that we be kept apart 
 from his people, as they were simple and 
 happy, and he feared that association with us 
 would bring discontent among them. Their 
 present condition had come about solely 
 197
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 through the policy of complete isolation which 
 had been followed in the past. 
 
 We received this communication with a de- 
 light which we took no pains to conceal ; and 
 the king seemed touched by our expressions 
 of gratitude. So in a little while we were 
 established as a colony about three miles from 
 the town, the quick hands of the natives having 
 made for us, out of poles, matting, and thatch, 
 a sufficient number of houses for our comfort ; 
 and the king placed at our disposal a large 
 acreage for our use, if we should desire to help 
 ourselves with farming ; for which purpose an 
 intelligent native was sent to instruft us. It 
 was on the loth day of May, 1853, that we 
 went upon the island, and the I4th when we 
 went into colony. 
 
 I cannot pause to give any further descrip- 
 tion of this beautiful island and our delightful 
 surroundings, but must hasten away to a rela- 
 tion of the terrible things which presently be- 
 fell us. We had been upon the island about 
 a month, when the king (who had been to visit 
 us twice) sent a messenger to say that a boat 
 would leave on the morrow, and that if any 
 one of us wished to go he could be taken. 
 The messenger said that the king's best judg- 
 ment was that the sickly ones ought to go first, 
 198
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 as, in the event of serious illness, it would be 
 better that they should die at home. We 
 overlooked this singular and savage way of 
 stating the case, for our sense of gratitude to 
 the king was so great that the expression of a 
 slight wish from him was as binding upon us 
 as law. Hence from our number we selected 
 John Foley, a carpenter, of Boston, as the 
 hardships of the voyage had developed in him 
 a quick consumption, and he had no family or 
 relatives in the colony, as many others of us 
 had. The poor fellow was overcome with 
 gratitude, and he left us the happiest man I 
 ever saw. 
 
 I must now mention a very singular thing, 
 which upon the departure of Foley was given 
 a conspicuous place in our attention. We 
 were in a roomy valley, which was nearly sur- 
 rounded by perpendicular walls of great height, 
 and from no accessible point was the sea vis- 
 ible. On several occasions some of the younger 
 men had sought to leave the valley for the 
 shore, but at each attempt the native guards 
 set over us had suddenly appeared at the few 
 passes which nature had left in the wall, and 
 kindly but firmly had turned our young men 
 back, saying that it was the king's wish we 
 should not leave the valley. The older heads 
 199
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 among us discouraged these attempts to escape, 
 holding them to be breaches of faith and hos- 
 pitality ; but the knowledge of being absolute 
 prisoners weighed upon us nevertheless, and 
 became more and more irksome. When, 
 therefore, our companion was taken away, an 
 organized movement was made among the 
 young men to gain an elevated position com- 
 manding a view of the sea, in order to observe 
 the direction taken by Foley's boat. The plan 
 was to divide into bodies and move simul- 
 taneously in force upon all the points of egress, 
 and overcome, without any resort to dangerous 
 violence, the two or three guards who had 
 been seen at those points. When our men 
 arrived at these places they encountered the 
 small number it was customary to see, and 
 were pushing their way through, when sud- 
 denly there appeared a strong body of natives, 
 who drew their heavy swords and assumed so 
 threatening an attitude that our men lost no 
 time in retreating. A report of this occur- 
 rence was made to the colony, each of the 
 parties of young men having had an exaftly 
 similar experience. While there appeared to 
 be no good ground for the feeling of uneasi- 
 ness which spread throughout the colony, a 
 sense of oppression came over the stronger 
 
 200
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 ones and of fear over the weaker ; and, a 
 council having been held, it was decided to 
 ask an explanation of the king. 
 
 Other things of some interest had happened ; 
 among them, a surreptitious acquiring of con- 
 siderable knowledge of the island language by 
 me. For this reason I was chosen as ambas- 
 sador to the king. My mission was a failure, 
 as the king, though gracious, informed me that 
 this plan was necessary in securing complete 
 isolation from his people ; and he instructed 
 me to tell my people that any member of our 
 colony found beyond the lines would be pun- 
 ished with death. In addition to this, the 
 king, seemingly hurt that we should have ques- 
 tioned the propriety of his aftions, said that 
 thenceforward he himself would make the 
 selections of our people for deportation. The 
 man's evident superiority of character im- 
 pressed me with no little effeft, and the sin- 
 cerity with which he regarded us as belonging 
 to a race inferior to his in mental and moral 
 strength confounded me and placed me at a 
 disadvantage. 
 
 When I took the news to the colony, a 
 mood bordering upon hopelessness came upon 
 our people. The ones of hastier temper sug- 
 gested a revolt and a seizure of the island ; but
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 this was so insane an idea that it was put away 
 at once. 
 
 Not long afterwards the king sent for Ab- 
 salom Maywood, one of our young men, un- 
 married, but with a mother among us. May- 
 wood, at first very low with scurvy on the 
 brig, had drifted into other ailments, and was 
 now an invalid and much wasted. I will not 
 dwell upon the pathetic parting between him 
 and his aged mother, nor upon the deeper 
 gloom that fell upon the colony. What was 
 becoming of these men ? None might know 
 whither they were taken and none could guess 
 their after-fate. Behind our efforts to be 
 cheerful and industrious there were heavy 
 hearts, and possibly thoughts and fears that 
 dared not seek expression. 
 
 The third man was taken again a sickly 
 one this time a consumptive farmer, named 
 Jackson; and some time afterward a fourth, 
 an elderly woman, with a cancer; she was 
 Mrs. Lyons, formerly a milliner in South 
 Boston. Then the patience and hope which 
 had sustained us gave way, and we were in a 
 condition close upon despair. The cooler 
 ones among the men assembled quietly apart 
 and debated what to do. Our captain, a man 
 quiet and brave, still the leader in our councils,
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 and always advising patience and obedience, 
 presided at this meeting. There was one 
 dreadful thought upon every mind, but no 
 man had the courage to bring it forth ; but 
 after there had been some discussion without 
 any profit, Captain Campbell made this 
 speech : 
 
 " My friends, it does not become us longer 
 to seek to conceal the thought which all of us 
 have, and which, sooner or later, must be 
 spoken. It is a matter of common knowledge 
 that upon many of the islands of these seas 
 there exists the horrible praftice of canni- 
 balism." 
 
 Not a word was spoken for a long time, 
 and all were glad that it had come out at last. 
 Not one man looked at his neighbor or dared 
 raise his glance from the ground, and there 
 was a weight upon the hearts of all. 
 
 "Nevertheless," resumed the captain, "it 
 is extremely difficult to believe that this evil is 
 upon us, for you must have noticed that only 
 the lean and sickly ones have been taken, and 
 surely this cannot mean cannibalism." 
 
 Some had not thought of this, and they 
 looked up quickly, with brighter faces ; where- 
 upon Captain Campbell proceeded : 
 
 " You must have observed, however, that 
 203
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 all of the sick and weakly have gone, and this 
 brings a new situation upon us. I have an 
 idea, which I will not give expression to now, 
 and my desire in calling you together was to 
 determine its correctness or falsity. For this 
 purpose, some man of daring and agility must 
 risk his life." 
 
 Nearly every man present made offer of his 
 services, but the captain shook his head and 
 begged them all to remain quiet. 
 
 " It is necessary," he added, " that this man 
 understand the language, and I fear there is not 
 one among you." 
 
 Each man, taken aback, looked at his neigh- 
 bor and then all at me, as I stepped forward. 
 The captain regarded me gratefully and said : 
 
 " Let there now be a binding secrecy among 
 us, for the others of the colony must not know 
 now, and perhaps never. If our fear find a 
 ground in truth, there is all the greater reason 
 for keeping these matters secret among our- 
 selves. Is that well understood ? Then, Mr. 
 Keating, the plan is this : When the next one 
 of us is taken, you are by strategy, but in no 
 event by violence, to escape from this impris- 
 onment and discover the fate of that one and 
 make report to us." 
 
 A week afterwards (these things occurring 
 204
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 now with greater frequency) Lemuel Arthur, 
 a young man of twenty-two, was taken away 
 about one o'clock in the afternoon. My 
 whole plan having been studied out, I arrayed 
 myself in the style of the natives, stained my 
 skin with ochre, blackened my eyebrows and 
 hair with a mixture of soot and tallow, and 
 without difficulty slipped by the guards and 
 found myself at large and free upon the island. 
 I gained a high point and saw no sign of a 
 boat making ready to put off with Arthur. 
 When darkness had come I descended to the 
 village. I kept upon the outskirts and re- 
 mained as much as possible in shadow. I 
 dared not talk with any one, but I could 
 listen ; and presently I learned something that 
 made my heart stand still. 
 
 " It has been so long since we had one," 
 said a native to his fellow. 
 
 " Yes ; and this one will be delicious. They 
 say he is young and fat. Why, we have not 
 touched any since the four men and their 
 woman with the jewelry came upon the island 
 from a wreck." 
 
 " True ; but this one will not go around 
 among so many of us many must go with- 
 out." 
 
 " What of that ? Those not supplied now 
 205
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 will have all the keener relish when their turn 
 comes. All that are left now are good and 
 fat, as the king has taken away all the lean and 
 sickly ones. He would not allow the people 
 to touch them, although some of them begged 
 very hard. So, to make sure, they were 
 placed in the kiln." 
 
 So heavy a sickness fell upon me when I 
 heard this that I was near upon a betrayal of 
 my presence ; and certainly I lost some of the 
 talk which these men were having. Presently 
 I realized that nothing indicating a horrible 
 fate for my friends had been said ; my own 
 fears were sufficient to give a frightful color to 
 their language. When I looked about me 
 again they were gone, and so with much cau- 
 tion I moved to another part of the town, 
 keeping always in shadow. At a certain place 
 I heard another conversation, as follows : 
 
 "Does he know what they will do with 
 him ?" 
 
 " No ; but he fears something. He does 
 not understand the language. He tried to get 
 away this afternoon to go to the sea-shore, 
 where he thought the boat was waiting, and 
 when they made an effort to keep him quiet he 
 became very angry." 
 
 " What did they do then ?" 
 206
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 " They took him to the king, who was so 
 kind that the young man became quiet. Our 
 king is so gentle, and they always believe 
 what he tells them," whereupon the fellow 
 broke into a hearty laugh. 
 
 " And do the others suspeft nothing ?" 
 
 " There is doubt about that. Kololu, the 
 farmer, has reported that they appear uneasy 
 and disturbed, and hold secret meetings." 
 
 " What do you think they would do if they 
 should discover everything ?" 
 
 " Revolt, I think, for they appear to be 
 fighters." 
 
 " But they have no arms, and we are more 
 than a hundred to one." 
 
 " That is true, and so no lives would be lost 
 on either side. After the revolt they would 
 merely be kept in closer confinement, and no 
 harm would come in the end. They could be 
 taken one at a time, as is the present intention." 
 
 " They might refuse to eat sufficient, and 
 hence become lean." 
 
 " That would come about surely, but it 
 would last only for a time ; for you have no- 
 ticed that even our own people, when con- 
 demned, though they lose flesh at first, 
 invariably become reconciled to their end, and 
 at last become fatter than ever." 
 207
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 The words of this man, who was evidently 
 a functionary of the king, inspired me with so 
 great a horror that I could bear to hear no 
 more ; so I moved away, considering whether 
 I should return to the colony and report what 
 I had heard already or remain to see this 
 ghastly tragedy to the end. As there was 
 nothing to be gained by returning at once, I 
 decided to stay, for through the horror of it 
 all might come some suggestion of a means of 
 deliverance. 
 
 I soon became aware, by the making of all 
 the people towards a certain quarter, that 
 something of unusual importance was afoot ; 
 so as best I could I worked my way around to 
 the point of convergence, which was in the 
 neighborhood of the king's house, and there I 
 saw an extraordinary preparation under way. 
 A large bonfire was burning in an open place ; 
 standing around it, in a circle having a gener- 
 ous radius, were hundreds of the strange half- 
 savages of the island, kept at their proper 
 distance by an armed patrol ; in a clear space 
 at one side, on higher ground, was an elevated 
 seat, which I surmised was reserved for the 
 king. Manifestly a matter of some moment 
 was to be attended to, having likely a ceremo- 
 nious character. The most curious feature of 
 208
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 all this affair was the activity of a number of 
 workers engaged in dragging large, hot stones 
 from the fire and arranging them in the form 
 of an oblong mound. This mound had one 
 peculiar feature : a hollow space, about six 
 feet long and two feet wide, was left within 
 it, and the men, under the instructions of a 
 leader, were fashioning it to a depth approach- 
 ing two feet, all the stones being very hot and 
 difficult to handle, even with the aid of barrows. 
 
 While they were still at work, the great re- 
 pressed excitement under which the people 
 labored found an excuse for expression in the 
 arrival of the king, who, tricked out in unusual 
 finery, walked solemnly ahead of his attendants 
 to his elevated seat. Then he gave an order 
 which, from my distance, I could not hear. I 
 pushed a little closer under the safety which 
 the occasion lent, and overheard this conversa- 
 tion : 
 
 " How many will get some of it ?" 
 
 " Only forty, I hear. You know the women 
 are not allowed to have it." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " The leading men will be supplied. It 
 makes them strong and wise. The next one 
 will be given to sixty of the men who carry 
 swords." 
 
 14 209
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 " And the next after that ?" 
 
 " To more of the swordsmen ; and so on 
 until they all have had some, and then the 
 common people will be taken in like rotation, 
 but given a smaller allowance." 
 
 At this junfture, a strange procession moved 
 from the king's house. It was led by two 
 priests chanting dolefully ; behind them walked 
 four men, armed with curious implements 
 flails, no doubt. Then came four warriors, 
 and behind them, firmly bound and completely 
 naked, walked my young friend, Arthur; 
 after him came six warriors. Arthur's white 
 skin showed in strong contrast to that of the 
 brown men around him. His face was very 
 pale, and his eyes, staring wide, swept a quick 
 glance around for a stray hope. 
 
 The group stopped in front of the king ; 
 the natives faced and made an obeisance and 
 awaited further orders. Before all this had been 
 done, a man in front of me said to another : 
 
 Those hot stones will cool, I fear." 
 
 " There is no danger ; they will keep their 
 heat a long time. If they were too hot, they 
 would burn it." 
 
 " True." 
 
 " They are much too hot now, but it will 
 be some time before they will be needed." 
 
 210
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 " Will they use the sword first, as they did 
 with those who had the jewelry ?" 
 
 " No ; the best part then was spilled. This 
 is a new idea of the king's. The flails will do 
 just as well and will make it very tender be- 
 sides. Our king is a wise man." 
 
 By this time young Arthur (the king having 
 given his order) was surrounded by the armed 
 men, and between him and them were the 
 four who carried flails. His hands had been 
 bound to a strong post sunk in the ground. 
 The king raised his hand as a signal, and the 
 four men brought down their flails with mod- 
 erate force upon Arthur's naked body. These 
 implements were heavy, and evidently care 
 was taken not to break the skin. When the 
 poor fellow felt the blows, he shrank and 
 quivered, but uttered no sound. They fell 
 again. 
 
 What was I doing all this time ? What was 
 I thinking ? I do not know ; but when the 
 second blows had been delivered and Arthur 
 had cried out in his agony, I sprang through 
 the encircling line of savages, dashed into the 
 midst of the group surrounding the prisoner, 
 snatched a sword from a warrior, leaped upon 
 the king and split his head in twain, turned, 
 cut Arthur's bonds, caught him by the hand, 
 
 211
 
 A STORY TOLD BY THE SEA 
 
 and fled at full speed with him into the dark- 
 ness. Never had been a surprise more com- 
 plete the people had seen one of their own 
 number, as they supposed, free the prisoner 
 and murder their king. Soon there came a 
 howl, and some started in pursuit ; but there 
 was the body of the king, and the stones were 
 hot and waiting ! There was no longer author- 
 ity ! Our pursuers fell off, one by one, and the 
 others, thus discouraged, gave up the chase. 
 We ran to the shore, found a boat, and put out 
 to sea. 
 
 We are free we two; but to what pur- 
 pose ? We have no idea of the direction of 
 the land ; we are without food ; we dare not 
 return to our friends, for only in the desperate 
 hope of our finding land can there be the 
 least encouragement for their rescue. We 
 have rowed all night; it is now well into the 
 following afternoon ; we have had nothing to 
 eat or drink, and we are beginning to suffer ; 
 we both are naked and the sun seemingly will 
 burn us up. I therefore make this record with 
 material which I had been prudent to provide 
 for such an emergency, and I shall now give it 
 to the sea, with such earnest prayers for its 
 discovery as can come only from a most un- 
 happy human being in a desperate extremity.
 
 The Monster-Maker 
 
 A YOUNG man of refined appearance, but 
 evidently suffering great mental distress, 
 presented himself one morning at the residence 
 of a singular old man, who was known as a 
 surgeon of remarkable skill. The house was 
 a queer and primitive brick affair, entirely out 
 of date, and tolerable only in the decayed part 
 of the city in which it stood. It was large, 
 gloomy, and dark, and had long corridors and 
 dismal rooms ; and it was absurdly large for 
 the small family man and wife that occu- 
 pied it. The house described, the man is 
 portrayed but not the woman. He could be 
 agreeable on occasion, but, for all that, he was 
 but animated mystery. His wife was weak, 
 wan, reticent, evidently miserable, and possi- 
 bly living a life of dread or horror perhaps 
 witness of repulsive things, subjeft of anxie- 
 ties, and viftim of fear and tyranny ; but there 
 is a great deal of guessing in these assumptions. 
 He was about sixty-five years of age and she 
 about forty. He was lean, tall, and bald, with 
 213
 
 THE MONSTER MAKER 
 
 thin, smooth-shaven face, and very keen eyes ; 
 kept always at home, and was slovenly. The 
 man was strong, the woman weak ; he domi- 
 nated, she suffered. 
 
 Although he was a surgeon of rare skill, his 
 praftice was almost nothing, for it was a rare 
 occurrence that the few who knew of his 
 great ability were brave enough to penetrate 
 the gloom of his house, and when they did so 
 it was with deaf ear turned to sundry ghoulish 
 stories that were whispered concerning him. 
 These were, in great part, but exaggerations 
 of his experiments in viviseftion ; he was de- 
 voted to the science of surgery. 
 
 The young man who presented himself on 
 the morning just mentioned was a handsome 
 fellow, yet of evident weak character and un- 
 healthy temperament sensitive, and easily ex- 
 alted or depressed. A single glance convinced 
 the surgeon that his visitor was seriously 
 affedled in mind, for there was never bolder 
 skull-grin of melancholia, fixed and irremedi- 
 able. 
 
 A stranger would not have suspefted any 
 occupancy of the house. The street door 
 old, warped, and blistered by the sun was 
 locked, and the small, faded-green window- 
 blinds were closed. The young man rapped 
 214
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 at the door. No answer. He rapped again. 
 Still no sign. He examined a slip of paper, 
 glanced at the number on the house, and then, 
 with the impatience of a child, he furiously 
 kicked the door. There were signs of numer- 
 ous other such kicks. A response came in the 
 shape of a shuffling footstep in the hall, a 
 turning of the rusty key, and a sharp face 
 that peered through a cautious opening in the 
 door. 
 
 "Are you the doftor?" asked the young 
 man. 
 
 *' Yes, yes ! Come in," briskly replied the 
 master of the house. 
 
 The young man entered. The old surgeon 
 closed the door and carefully locked it. " This 
 way," he said, advancing to a rickety flight of 
 stairs. The young man followed. The sur- 
 geon led the way up the stairs, turned into a 
 narrow, musty-smelling corridor at the left, 
 traversed it, rattling the loose boards under his 
 feet, at the farther end opened a door at the 
 right, and beckoned his visitor to enter. The 
 young man found himself in a pleasant room, 
 furnished in antique fashion and with hard 
 simplicity. 
 
 " Sit down," said the old man, placing a 
 chair so that its occupant should face a win- 
 215
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 dow that looked out upon a dead wall about 
 six feet from the house. He threw open the 
 blind, and a pale light entered. He then 
 seated himself near his visitor and directly 
 facing him, and with a searching look, that 
 had all the power of a microscope, he pro- 
 ceeded to diagnosticate the case. 
 
 " Well ?" he presently asked. 
 
 The young man shifted uneasily in his seat. 
 
 " I I have come to see you," he finally 
 stammered, " because I'm in trouble." 
 
 " Ah !" 
 
 " Yes ; you see, I that is I have given it 
 up." 
 
 "Ah!" There was pity added to sym- 
 pathy in the ejaculation. 
 
 " That's it. Given it up," added the vis- 
 itor. He took from his pocket a roll of bank- 
 notes, and with the utmost deliberation he 
 counted them out upon his knee. " Five 
 thousand dollars," he calmly remarked. " That 
 is for you. It's all I have ; but I presume I 
 imagine no; that is not the word assume 
 yes ; that's the word assume that five thou- 
 sand is it really that much ? Let me count." 
 He counted again. " That five thousand dollars 
 is a sufficient fee for what I want you to do." 
 
 The surgeon's lips curled pityingly per- 
 216
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 haps disdainfully also. " What do you want 
 me to do ?" he carelessly inquired. 
 
 The young man rose, looked around with a 
 mysterious air, approached the surgeon, and laid 
 the money across his knee. Then he stooped 
 and whispered two words in the surgeon's ear. 
 
 These words produced an electric effeft. 
 The old man started violently ; then, springing 
 to his feet, he caught his visitor angrily, and 
 transfixed him with a look that was as sharp as 
 a knife. His eyes flashed, and he opened his 
 mouth to give utterance to some harsh impre- 
 cation, when he suddenly checked himself. 
 The anger left his face, and only pity re- 
 mained. He relinquished his grasp, picked 
 up the scattered notes, and, offering them to 
 the visitor, slowly said : 
 
 " I do not want your money. You are 
 simply foolish. You think you are in trouble. 
 Well, you do not know what trouble is. 
 Your only trouble is that you have not a trace 
 of manhood in your nature. You are merely 
 insane I shall not say pusillanimous. You 
 should surrender yourself to the authorities, 
 and be sent to a lunatic asylum for proper 
 treatment." 
 
 The young man keenly felt the intended in- 
 sult, and his eyes flashed dangerously. 
 217
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " You old dog you insult me thus !" he 
 cried. " Grand airs, these, you give yourself! 
 Virtuously indignant, old murderer, you ! 
 Don't want my money, eh ? When a man 
 comes to you himself and wants it done, you 
 fly into a passion and spurn his money ; but 
 let an enemy of his come and pay you, and 
 you are only too willing. How many such 
 jobs have you done in this miserable old hole ? 
 It is a good thing for you that the police have 
 not run you down, and brought spade and 
 shovel with them. Do you know what is said 
 of you ? Do you think you have kept your 
 windows so closely shut that no sound has 
 ever penetrated beyond them ? Where do 
 you keep your infernal implements ?" 
 
 He had worked himself into a high passion. 
 His voice was hoarse, loud, and rasping. 
 His eyes, bloodshot, started from their sockets. 
 His whole frame twitched, and his fingers 
 writhed. But he was in the presence of a 
 man infinitely his superior. Two eyes, like 
 those of a snake, burned two holes through 
 him. An overmastering, inflexible presence 
 confronted one weak and passionate. The 
 result came. 
 
 " Sit down," commanded the stern voice of 
 the surgeon. 
 
 218
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 It was the voice of father to child, of mas- 
 ter to slave. The fury left the visitor, who, 
 weak and overcome, fell upon a chair. 
 
 Meanwhile, a peculiar light had appeared 
 in the old surgeon's face, the dawn of a strange 
 idea ; a gloomy ray, strayed from the fires of the 
 bottomless pit ; the baleful light that illumines 
 the way of the enthusiast. The old man re- 
 mained a moment in profound abstraction, 
 gleams of eager intelligence bursting momen- 
 tarily through the cloud of sombre meditation 
 that covered his face. Then broke the broad 
 light of a deep, impenetrable determination. 
 There was something sinister in it, suggesting 
 the sacrifice of something held sacred. After 
 a struggle, mind had vanquished conscience. 
 
 Taking a piece of paper and a pencil, the 
 surgeon carefully wrote answers to questions 
 which he peremptorily addressed to his visitor, 
 such as his name, age, place of residence, oc- 
 cupation, and the like, and the same inquiries 
 concerning his parents, together with other 
 particular matters. 
 
 " Does any one know you came to this 
 house ?" he asked. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You swear it ?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 219
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " But your prolonged absence will cause 
 alarm and lead to search." 
 
 " I have provided against that." 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 " By depositing a note in the post, as I 
 came along, announcing my intention to drown 
 myself." 
 
 " The river will be dragged." 
 
 " What then ?" asked the young man, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders with careless indifference. 
 " Rapid undercurrent, you know. A good 
 many are never found." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " Are you ready ?" finally asked the sur- 
 geon. 
 
 "Perfeftly." The answer was cool and 
 determined. 
 
 The manner of the surgeon, however, 
 showed much perturbation. The pallor that 
 had come into his face at the moment his de- 
 cision was formed became intense. A nervous 
 tremulousness came over his frame. Above it 
 all shone the light of enthusiasm. 
 
 " Have you a choice in the method ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes ; extreme anaesthesia." 
 
 " With what agent ?" 
 
 " The surest and quickest." 
 220
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " Do you desire any any subsequent dis- 
 position ?" 
 
 " No ; only nullification ; simply a blowing 
 out, as of a candle in the wind ; a puff then 
 darkness, without a trace. A sense of your 
 own safety may suggest the method. I leave 
 it to you." 
 
 " No delivery to your friends ?" 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 Another pause. 
 
 "Did you say you are quite ready ?" asked 
 the surgeon. 
 
 " Quite ready." 
 
 " And perfectly willing ?" 
 
 " Anxious." 
 
 " Then wait a moment." 
 
 With this request the old surgeon rose to 
 his feet and stretched himself. Then with 
 the stealthiness of a cat he opened the door 
 and peered into the hall, listening intently. 
 There was no sound. He softly closed the 
 door and locked it. Then he closed the 
 window-blinds and locked them. This done, 
 he opened a door leading into an adjoining 
 room, which, though it had no window, was 
 lighted by means of a small skylight. The 
 young man watched closely. A strange change 
 had come over him. While his determination
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 had not one whit lessened, a look of great re- 
 lief came into his face, displacing the haggard, 
 despairing look of a half-hour before. Melan- 
 cholic then, he was ecstatic now. 
 
 The opening of the second door disclosed 
 a curious sight. In the centre of the room, 
 dire&ly under the skylight, was an operating- 
 table, such as is used by demonstrators of 
 anatomy. A glass case against the wall held 
 surgical instruments of every kind. Hanging 
 in another case were human skeletons of vari- 
 ous sizes. In sealed jars, arranged on shelves, 
 were monstrosities of divers kinds preserved in 
 alcohol. There were also, among innumer- 
 able other articles scattered about the room, a 
 manikin, a stuffed cat, a desiccated human 
 heart, plaster casts of various parts of the 
 body, numerous charts, and a large assortment 
 of drugs and chemicals. There was also a 
 lounge, which could be opened to form a 
 couch. The surgeon opened it and moved 
 the operating-table aside, giving its place to the 
 lounge. 
 
 " Come in," he called to his visitor. 
 
 The young man obeyed without the least 
 hesitation. 
 
 " Take off your coat." 
 
 He complied.
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " Lie down on that lounge." 
 
 In a moment the young man was stretched 
 at full length, eyeing the surgeon. The latter 
 undoubtedly was suffering under great excite- 
 ment, but he did not waver ; his movements 
 were sure and quick. Selecting a bottle con- 
 taining a liquid, he carefully measured out a 
 certain quantity. While doing this he asked : 
 
 " Have you ever had any irregularity of the 
 heart?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 The answer was prompt, but it was imme- 
 diately followed by a quizzical look in the 
 speaker's face. 
 
 " I presume," he added, " you mean by 
 your question that it might be dangerous to 
 give me a certain drug. Under the circum- 
 stances, however, I fail to see any relevancy 
 in your question." 
 
 This took the surgeon aback ; but he has- 
 tened to explain that he did not wish to in- 
 flict unnecessary pain, and hence his question. 
 
 He placed the glass on a stand, approached 
 his visitor, and carefully examined his pulse. 
 
 " Wonderful !" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " It is perfectly normal." 
 
 " Because I am wholly resigned. Indeed, 
 223
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 it has been long since I knew such happiness. 
 It is not aftive, but infinitely sweet." 
 
 " You have no lingering desire to retraft ?" 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 The surgeon went to the stand and returned 
 with the draught. 
 
 " Take this," he said, kindly. 
 
 The young man partially raised himself and 
 took the glass in his hand. He did not show 
 the vibration of a single nerve. He drank the 
 liquid, draining the last drop. Then he re- 
 turned the glass with a smile. 
 
 " Thank you," he said ; " you are the 
 noblest man that lives. May you always 
 prosper and be happy ! You are my bene- 
 faftor, my liberator. Bless you, bless you ! 
 You reach down from your seat with the gods 
 and lift me up into glorious peace and rest. I 
 love you I love you with all my heart !" 
 
 These words, spoken earnestly, in a musi- 
 cal, low voice, and accompanied with a smile 
 of ineffable tenderness, pierced the old man's 
 heart. A suppressed convulsion swept over 
 him ; intense anguish wrung his vitals ; perspi- 
 ration trickled down his face. The young 
 man continued to smile. 
 
 " Ah, it does me good !" said he. 
 
 The surgeon, with a strong effort to control 
 224
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 himself, sat down upon the edge of the lounge 
 and took his visitor's wrist, counting the pulse. 
 
 " How long will it take ?" the young man 
 asked. 
 
 " Ten minutes. Two have passed." The 
 voice was hoarse. 
 
 " Ah, only eight minutes more ! . . . De- 
 licious, delicious ! I feel it coming. . . . 
 What was that? . . . Ah, I understand. 
 Music. . . . Beautiful ! . . . Coming, com- 
 ing. ... Is that that water ? . . . Trick- 
 ling ? Dripping ? Doftor !" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Thank you, . . . thank you. . . . Noble 
 man, ... my saviour, ... my bene . . . 
 bene . . . faftor. . . . Trickling, . . . trick- 
 ling. . . . Dripping, dripping. . . . Dodlor !" 
 
 " Well ?" 
 
 " Doftor !" 
 
 " Past hearing," muttered the surgeon. 
 
 " Doftor !" 
 
 "And blind." 
 
 Response was made by a firm grasp of the 
 hand. 
 
 " Doftor !" 
 
 " And numb." 
 
 " Dodlor !" 
 
 The old man watched and waited. 
 15 22 5
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " Dripping, . . . dripping." 
 
 The last drop had run. There was a sigh, 
 and nothing more. 
 
 The surgeon laid down the hand. 
 
 " The first step," he groaned, rising to his 
 feet ; then his whole frame dilated. " The 
 first step the most difficult, yet the simplest. 
 A providential delivery into my hands of that 
 for which I have hungered for forty years. 
 No withdrawal now ! It is possible, because 
 scientific ; rational, but perilous. If I succeed 
 if? I shall succeed. I will succeed. . . . 
 And after success what ? . . . Yes ; what ? 
 Publish the plan and the result ? The gallows. 
 ... So long as /'/ shall exist, . . . and 1 
 exist, the gallows. That much. . . . But 
 how account for its presence? Ah, that 
 pinches hard ! I must trust to the future." 
 
 He tore himself from the revery and started. 
 
 "I wonder if she heard or saw anything." 
 
 With that reflection he cast a glance upon 
 the form on the lounge, and then left the 
 room, locked the door, locked also the door 
 of the outer room, walked down two or three 
 corridors, penetrated to a remote part of the 
 house, and rapped at a door. It was opened 
 by his wife. He, by this time, had regained 
 complete mastery over himself. 
 226
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " I thought I heard some one in the house, 
 just now," he said, " but I can find no one." 
 
 " I heard nothing." 
 
 He was greatly relieved. 
 
 " I did hear some one knock at the door less 
 than an hour ago," she resumed, and heard 
 you speak, I think. Did he come in ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 The woman glanced at his feet and seemed 
 perplexed. 
 
 " I am almost certain," she said, " that I 
 heard foot-falls in the house, and yet I see 
 that you are wearing slippers." 
 
 " Oh, I had on my shoes then !" 
 
 " That explains it," said the woman, satis- 
 fied ; " I think the sound you heard must have 
 been caused by rats." 
 
 " Ah, that was it !" exclaimed the surgeon. 
 Leaving, he closed the door, reopened it, and 
 said, " I do not wish to be disturbed to-day." 
 He said to himself, as he -went down the 
 hall, " All is clear there." 
 
 He returned to the room in which his vis- 
 itor lay, and made a careful examination. 
 
 " Splendid specimen !" he softly exclaimed ; 
 
 " every organ sound, every funftion perfect ; 
 
 fine, large frame ; well-shaped muscles, strong 
 
 and sinewy ; capable of wonderful develop- 
 
 227
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 ment if given opportunity. ... I have no 
 doubt it can be done. Already I have suc- 
 ceeded with a dog, a task less difficult than 
 this, for in a man the cerebrum overlaps the 
 cerebellum, which is not the case with a dog. 
 This gives a wide range for accident, with but 
 one opportunity in a lifetime ! In the cere- 
 rum, the intellect and the affeftions ; in the 
 cerebellum, the senses and the motor forces ; 
 in the medulla oblongata, control of the dia- 
 phragm. In these two latter lie all the essen- 
 tials of simple existence. The cerebrum is 
 merely an adornment ; that is to say, reason 
 and the affe&ions are almost purely ornamental. 
 I have already proved it. My dog, with its 
 cerebrum removed, was idiotic, but it retained 
 its physical senses to a certain degree." 
 
 While thus ruminating he made careful 
 preparations. He moved the couch, replaced 
 the operating-table under the skylight, selected 
 a number of surgical instruments, prepared 
 certain drug-mixtures, and arranged water, 
 towels, and all the accessories of a tedious 
 surgical operation. Suddenly he burst into 
 laughter. 
 
 " Poor fool !" he exclaimed. " Paid me 
 five thousand dollars to kill him ! Didn't have 
 the courage to snuff his own candle ! Singu- 
 228
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 lar, singular, the queer freaks these madmen 
 have ! You thought you were dying, poor 
 idiot ! Allow me to inform you, sir, that you 
 are as much alive at this moment as ever you 
 were in your life. But it will be all the same 
 to you. You shall never be more conscious 
 than you are now ; and for all practical pur- 
 poses, so far as they concern you, you are 
 dead henceforth, though you shall live. By the 
 way, how should you feel without a bead? 
 Ha, ha, ha ! ... But that's a sorry joke." 
 
 He lifted the unconscious form from the 
 lounge and laid it upon the operating-table. 
 
 ******* 
 
 About three years afterwards the following 
 conversation was held between a captain of 
 police and a deteftive : 
 
 " She may be insane," suggested the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 " I think she is." 
 
 " And yet you credit her story !" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Singular !" 
 
 " Not at all. I myself have learned some- 
 thing." 
 
 " What !" 
 
 " Much, in one sense ; little, in another. 
 You have heard those queer stories of her 
 229
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 husband. Well, they are all nonsensical 
 probably with one exception. He is generally 
 a harmless old fellow, but peculiar. He has 
 performed some wonderful surgical operations. 
 The people in his neighborhood are ignorant, 
 and they fear him and wish to be rid of him ; 
 hence they tell a great many lies about him, 
 and they come to believe their own stories. 
 The one important thing that I have learned 
 is that he is almost insanely enthusiastic on 
 the subject of surgery especially experimen- 
 tal surgery ; and with an enthusiast there is 
 hardly such a thing as a scruple. It is this 
 that gives me confidence in the woman's 
 story." 
 
 " You say she appeared to be frightened ?" 
 
 " Doubly so first, she feared that her hus- 
 band would learn of her betrayal of him ; 
 second, the discovery itself had terrified her." 
 
 "But her report of this discovery is very 
 vague," argued the captain. " He conceals 
 everything from her. She is merely guessing." 
 
 " In part yes ; in other part no. She 
 heard the sounds distinctly, though she did not 
 see clearly. Horror closed her eyes. What 
 she thinks she saw is, I admit, preposterous ; 
 but she undoubtedly saw something extremely 
 frightful. There are many peculiar little cir- 
 230
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 cumstances. He has eaten with her but few 
 times during the last three years, and nearly 
 always carries his food to his private rooms. 
 She says that he either consumes an enormous 
 quantity, throws much away, or is feeding 
 something that eats prodigiously. He explains 
 this to her by saying that he has animals with 
 which he experiments. This is not true. 
 Again, he always keeps the door to these 
 rooms carefully locked ; and not only that, but 
 he has had the doors doubled and otherwise 
 strengthened, and has heavily barred a window 
 that looks from one of the rooms upon a dead 
 wall a few feet distant." 
 
 " What does it mean ?" asked the captain. 
 
 " A prison." 
 
 " For animals, perhaps." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 Why !" 
 
 " Because, in the first place, cages would 
 have been better ; in the second place, the 
 security that he has provided is infinitely 
 greater than that required for the confinement 
 of ordinary animals." 
 
 "All this is easily explained: he has a 
 violent lunatic under treatment." 
 
 " I had thought of that, but such is not the 
 faft." 
 
 231
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " How do you know ?" 
 
 " By reasoning thus : He has always refused 
 to treat cases of lunacy ; he confines himself 
 to surgery ; the walls are not padded, for the 
 woman has heard sharp blows upon them ; no 
 human strength, however morbid, could possi- 
 bly require such resisting strength as has been 
 provided ; he would not be likely to conceal a 
 lunatic's confinement from the woman ; no 
 lunatic could consume all the food that he 
 provides ; so extremely violent mania as these 
 precautions indicate could not continue three 
 years ; if there is a lunatic in the case it is 
 very probable that there should have been 
 communication with some one outside con- 
 cerning the patient, and there has been none ; 
 the woman has listened at the keyhole and has 
 heard no human voice within ; and last, we 
 have heard the woman's vague description of 
 what she saw." 
 
 " You have destroyed every possible theory," 
 said the captain, deeply interested, " and have 
 suggested nothing new." 
 
 " Unfortunately, I cannot ; but the truth 
 may be very simple, after all. The old sur- 
 geon is so peculiar that I am prepared to dis- 
 cover something remarkable." 
 
 " Have you suspicions ?" 
 232
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " Of what ?" 
 
 " A crime. The woman suspefts it." 
 
 " And betrays it ?" 
 
 " Certainly, because it is so horrible that 
 her humanity revolts ; so terrible that her 
 whole nature demands of her that she hand 
 over the criminal to the law ; so frightful that 
 she is in mortal terror ; so awful that it has 
 shaken her mind." 
 
 " What do you propose to do ?" asked the 
 captain. 
 
 " Secure evidence. I may need help." 
 
 " You shall have all the men you require. 
 Go ahead, but be careful. You are on dan- 
 gerous ground. You would be a mere play- 
 thing in the hands of that man." 
 
 Two days afterwards the detedlive again 
 sought the captain. 
 
 " I have a queer document," he said, exhib- 
 iting torn fragments of paper, on which there 
 was writing. " The woman stole it and 
 brought it to me. She snatched a handful out 
 of a book, getting only a part of each of a few 
 leaves." 
 
 These fragments, which the men arranged 
 as best they could, were (the deteftive ex- 
 plained) torn by the surgeon's wife from the 
 233
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 first volume of a number of manuscript books 
 which her husband had written on one subject, 
 the very one that was the cause of her ex- 
 citement. " About the time that he began a 
 certain experiment three years ago," continued 
 the deteftive, " he removed everything from 
 the suite of two rooms containing his study 
 and his operating-room. In one of the book- 
 cases that he removed to a room across the 
 passage was a drawer, which he kept locked, 
 but which he opened from time to time. As 
 is quite common with such pieces of furniture, 
 the lock of the drawer is a very poor one ; and 
 so the woman, while making a thorough search 
 yesterday, found a key on her bunch that 
 fitted this lock. She opened the drawer, 
 drew out the bottom book of a pile (so that 
 its mutilation would more likely escape dis- 
 covery), saw that it might contain a clew, and 
 tore out a handful of the leaves. She had 
 barely replaced the book, locked the drawer, 
 and made her escape when her husband ap- 
 peared. He hardly ever allows her to be out 
 of his sight when she is in that part of the 
 house." 
 
 The fragments read as follows : " . . . the 
 motory nerves. I had hardly dared to hope 
 for such a result, although induftive reasoning 
 234
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 had convinced me of its possibility, my only 
 doubt having been on the score of my lack of 
 skill. Their operation has been only slightly 
 impaired, and even this would not have been 
 the case had the operation been performed in 
 infancy, before the intellect had sought and 
 obtained recognition as an essential part of the 
 whole. Therefore I state, as a proved faft, 
 that the cells of the motory nerves have in- 
 herent forces sufficient to the purposes of those 
 nerves. But hardly so with the sensory 
 nerves. These latter are, in faft, an offshoot 
 of the former, evolved from them by natural 
 (though not essential) heterogeneity, and to a 
 certain extent are dependent on the evolution 
 and expansion of a contemporaneous tendency, 
 that developed into mentality, or mental func- 
 tion. Both of these latter tendencies, these 
 evolvements, are merely refinements of the 
 motory system, and not independent entities ; 
 that is to say, they are the blossoms of a plant 
 that propagates from its roots. The motory 
 system is the first . . . nor am I surprised 
 that such prodigious muscular energy is devel- 
 oping. It promises yet to surpass the wildest 
 dreams of human strength. I account for it 
 thus: The powers of assimilation had reached 
 thei-r full development. They had formed the 
 235
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 habit of doing a certain amount of work. They 
 sent their produfts to all parts of the system. 
 As a result of my operation the consumption 
 of these produfts was reduced fully one-half; 
 that is to say, about one-half of the demand 
 for them was withdrawn. But force of habit 
 required the production to proceed. This 
 production was strength, vitality, energy. 
 Thus double the usual quantity of this 
 strength, this energy, was stored in the re- 
 maining . . . developed a tendency that did 
 surprise me. Nature, no longer suffering the 
 distraflion of extraneous interferences, and at 
 the same time being cut in two (as it were), 
 with reference to this case, did not fully adjust 
 herself to the new situation, as does a magnet, 
 which, when divided at the point of equilib- 
 rium, renews itself in its two fragments by in- 
 vesting each with opposite poles ; but, on the 
 contrary, being severed from laws that there- 
 tofore had controlled her, and possessing still 
 that mysterious tendency to develop into some- 
 thing more potential and complex, she blindly 
 (having lost her lantern) pushed her demands 
 for material that would secure this develop- 
 ment, and as blindly used it when it was given 
 her. Hence this marvellous voracity, this in- 
 satiable hunger, this wonderful ravenousness ; 
 236
 
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 and hence also (there being nothing but the 
 physical part to receive this vast storing of 
 energy) this strength that is becoming almost 
 hourly herculean, almost daily appalling. It 
 is becoming a serious . . . narrow escape to- 
 day. By some means, while I was absent, it 
 unscrewed the stopper of the silver feeding- 
 pipe (which I have already herein termed 
 * the artificial mouth'), and, in one of its 
 curious antics, allowed all the chyle to escape 
 from its stomach through the tube. Its hun- 
 ger then became intense I may say furious. 
 I placed my hands upon it to push it into a 
 chair, when, feeling my touch, it caught me, 
 clasped me around the neck, and would have 
 crushed me to death instantly had I not 
 slipped from its powerful grasp. Thus I 
 always had to be on my guard. I have pro- 
 vided the screw stopper with a spring catch, 
 and . . . usually docile when not hungry; 
 slow and heavy in its movements, which are, 
 of course, purely unconscious ; any apparent 
 excitement in movement being due to local 
 irregularities in the blood-supply of the cere- 
 bellum, which, if I did not have it enclosed in 
 a silver case that is immovable, I should expose 
 and ..." 
 
 237
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 The captain looked at the deteftive with a 
 puzzled air. 
 
 " I don't understand it at all," said he. 
 
 " Nor I," agreed the deteftive. 
 
 " What do you propose to do ?" 
 
 " Make a raid." 
 
 " Do you want a man ?" 
 
 " Three. The strongest men in your dis- 
 tria." 
 
 " Why, the surgeon is old and weak !" 
 
 " Nevertheless, I want three strong men ; 
 and for that matter, prudence really advises me 
 to take twenty." 
 
 ******* 
 
 At one o'clock the next morning a cautious, 
 scratching sound might have been heard in 
 the ceiling of the surgeon's operating-room. 
 Shortly afterwards the skylight sash was care- 
 fully raised and laid aside. A man peered 
 into the opening. Nothing could be heard. 
 
 " That is singular," thought the deteftive. 
 
 He cautiously lowered himself to the floor 
 by a rope, and then stood for some moments 
 listening intently. There was a dead silence. 
 He shot the slide of a dark-lantern, and 
 rapidly swept the room with the light. It 
 was bare, with the exception of a strong iron 
 staple and ring, screwed to the floor in the 
 238
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 centre of the room, with a heavy chain at- 
 tached. The dete&ive then turned his atten- 
 tion to the outer room j it was perfectly bare. 
 He was deeply perplexed. Returning to the 
 inner room, he called softly to the men to de- 
 scend. While they were thus occupied he 
 re-entered the outer room and examined the 
 door. A glance sufficed. It was kept closed 
 by a spring attachment, and was locked with 
 a strong spring-lock that could be drawn from 
 the inside. 
 
 " The bird has just flown," mused the de- 
 teftive. " A singular accident ! The dis- 
 covery and proper use of this thumb-bolt 
 might not have happened once in fifty years, 
 if my theory is corredl:." 
 
 By this time the men were behind him. He 
 noiselessly drew the spring-bolt, opened the 
 door, and looked out into the hall. He heard 
 a peculiar sound. It was as though a gigantic 
 lobster was floundering and scrambling in some 
 distant part of the old house. Accompanying 
 this sound was a loud, whistling breathing, and 
 frequent rasping gasps. 
 
 These sounds were heard by still another 
 person the surgeon's wife ; for they originated 
 very near her rooms, which were a consider- 
 able distance from her husband's. She had 
 239
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 been sleeping lightly, tortured by fear and 
 harassed by frightful dreams. The conspiracy 
 into which she had recently entered, for the 
 destruction of her husband, was a source of 
 great anxiety. She constantly suffered from 
 the most gloomy forebodings, and lived in an 
 atmosphere of terror. Added to the natural 
 horror of her situation were those countless 
 sources of fear which a fright-shaken mind 
 creates and then magnifies. She was, indeed, 
 in a pitiable state, having been driven first by 
 terror to desperation, and then to madness. 
 
 Startled thus out of fitful slumber by the 
 noise at her door, she sprang from her bed to 
 the floor, every terror that lurked in her acutely 
 tense mind and diseased imagination starting 
 up and almost overwhelming her. The idea 
 of flight one of the strongest of all instinfts 
 seized upon her, and she ran to the door, 
 beyond all control of reason. She drew the 
 bolt and flung the door wide open, and then 
 fled wildly down the passage, the appalling 
 hissing and rasping gurgle ringing in her ears 
 apparently with a thousandfold intensity. But 
 the passage was in absolute darkness, and she 
 had not taken a half-dozen steps when she 
 tripped upon an unseen objeft on the floor. 
 She fell headlong upon it, encountering in it a 
 240
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 large, soft, warm substance that writhed and 
 squirmed, and from which came the sounds 
 that had awakened her. Instantly realizing her 
 situation, she uttered a shriek such as only an 
 unnamable terror can inspire. But hardly had 
 her cry started the echoes in the empty cor- 
 ridor when it was suddenly stifled. Two pro- 
 digious arms had closed upon her and crushed 
 the life out of her. 
 
 The cry performed the office of directing 
 the deteftive and his assistants, and it also 
 aroused the old surgeon, who occupied rooms 
 between the officers and the objeft of their 
 search. The cry of agony pierced him to the 
 marrow, and a realization of the cause of it 
 burst upon him with frightful force. 
 
 " It has come at last !" he gasped, springing 
 from his bed. 
 
 Snatching from a table a dimly-burning lamp 
 and a long knife which he had kept at hand 
 for three years, he dashed into the corridor. 
 The four officers had already started forward, 
 but when they saw him emerge they halted 
 in silence. In that moment of stillness the 
 surgeon paused to listen. He heard the hissing 
 sound and the clumsy floundering of a bulky, 
 living objeft in the direftion of his wife's apart- 
 ments. It evidently was advancing towards 
 16 241
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 him. A turn in the corridor shut out the 
 view. He turned up the light, which re- 
 vealed a ghastly pallor in his face. 
 
 Wife !" he called. 
 
 There was no response. He hurriedly ad- 
 vanced, the four men following quietly. He 
 turned the angle of the corridor, and ran so 
 rapidly that by the time the officers had come 
 in sight of him again he was twenty steps 
 away. He ran past a huge, shapeless object, 
 sprawling, crawling, and floundering along, 
 and arrived at the body of his wife. 
 
 He gave one horrified glance at her face, 
 and staggered away. Then a fury seized him. 
 Clutching the knife firmly, and holding the 
 lamp aloft, he sprang toward the ungainly 
 objedl: in the corridor. It was then that the 
 officers, still advancing cautiously, saw a little 
 more clearly, though still indistinctly, the objedl 
 of the surgeon's fury, and the cause of the 
 look of unutterable anguish in his face. The 
 hideous sight caused them to pause. They 
 saw what appeared to be a man, yet evidently 
 was not a man ; huge, awkward, shapeless ; a 
 squirming, lurching, stumbling mass, com- 
 pletely naked. It raised its broad shoulders. 
 // bad no bead, but instead of it a small metal- 
 lic ball surmounting its massive neck. 
 242
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 " Devil !" exclaimed the surgeon, raising 
 the knife. 
 
 " Hold, there !" commanded a stern 
 voice. 
 
 The surgeon quickly raised his eyes and saw 
 the four officers, and for a moment fear para- 
 lyzed his arm. 
 
 " The police !" he gasped. 
 
 Then, with a look of redoubled fury, he 
 sent the knife to the hilt into the squirming 
 mass before him. The wounded monster 
 sprang to its feet and wildly threw its arms 
 about, meanwhile emitting fearful sounds from 
 a silver tube through which it breathed. The 
 surgeon aimed another blow, but never gave 
 it. In his blind fury he lost his caution, and 
 was caught in an iron grasp. The struggling 
 threw the lamp some feet toward the officers, 
 and it fell to the floor, shattered to pieces. 
 Simultaneously with the crash the oil took fire, 
 and the corridor was filled with flame. The 
 officers could not approach. Before them was 
 the spreading blaze, and secure behind it were 
 two forms struggling in a fearful embrace. 
 They heard cries and gasps, and saw the 
 gleaming of a knife. 
 
 The wood in the house was old and dry. 
 It took fire at once, and the flames spread with 
 243
 
 THE MONSTER-MAKER 
 
 great rapidity. The four officers turned and 
 fled, barely escaping with their lives. In an 
 hour nothing remained of the mysterious 
 old house and its inmates but a blackened 
 
 244
 
 An Original Revenge 
 
 ON a certain day I received a letter from 
 a private soldier, named Gratmar, at- 
 tached to the garrison of San Francisco. I 
 had known him but slightly, the acquaintance 
 having come about through his interest in 
 some stories which I had published, and which 
 he had a way of calling " psychological stud- 
 ies." He was a dreamy, romantic, fine-grained 
 lad, proud as a tiger-lily and sensitive as a blue- 
 bell. What mad caprice led him to join the 
 army I never knew ; but I did know that 
 there he was wretchedly out of place, and I 
 foresaw that his rude and repellant environ- 
 ment would make of him in time a deserter, 
 or a suicide, or a murderer. The letter at 
 first seemed a wild outpouring of despair, for 
 it informed me that before it should reach me 
 its author would be dead by his own hand. 
 But when I had read farther I understood its 
 spirit, and realized how coolly formed a 
 scheme it disclosed and how terrible its pur- 
 
 245
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 port was intended to be. The worst of the 
 contents was the information that a certain 
 officer (whom he named) had driven him to 
 the deed, and that be was committing suicide for 
 the sole purpose of gaining thereby the power to 
 revenge himself upon his enemy ! I learned after- 
 ward that the officer had received a similar 
 letter. 
 
 This was so puzzling that I sat down to re- 
 flecl: upon the young man's peculiarities. He 
 had always seemed somewhat uncanny, and 
 had I proved more sympathetic he doubtless 
 would have gone farther and told me of cer- 
 tain problems which he professed to have 
 solved concerning the life beyond this. One 
 thing that he had said came back vividly : " If 
 I could only overcome that purely gross and 
 animal' love of life that makes us all shun 
 death, I would kill myself, for I know how 
 far more powerful I could be in spirit than in 
 flesh." 
 
 The manner of the suicide was startling, 
 and that was what might have been expected 
 from this odd character. Evidently scorning 
 the flummery of funerals, he had gone into a 
 little canyon near the military reservation and 
 blown himself into a million fragments with 
 dynamite, so that all of him that was ever 
 246
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 found was some minute particles of flesh and 
 bone. 
 
 I kept the letter a secret, for I desired to 
 observe the officer without rousing his suspicion 
 of my purpose ; it would be an admirable test 
 of a dead man's power and deliberate intention 
 to haunt the living, for so I interpreted the 
 letter. The officer thus to be punished was 
 an oldish man, short, apople&ic, overbearing, 
 and irascible. Generally he was kind to most 
 of the men in a way ; but he was gross and 
 mean, and that explained sufficiently his harsh 
 treatment of young Gratmar, whom he could 
 not understand, and his efforts to break that 
 flighty young man's spirit. 
 
 Not very long after the suicide certain modi- 
 fications in the officer's condudl became ap- 
 parent to my watchful oversight. His choler, 
 though none the less sporadic, developed a 
 quality which had some of the characteristics 
 of senility ; and yet he was still in his prime, 
 and passed for a sound man. He was a bach- 
 elor, and had lived always alone ; but presently 
 he began to shirk solitude at night and court 
 it in daylight. His brother-officers chaffed 
 him, and thereupon he would laugh in rather 
 a forced and silly fashion, quite different from 
 the ordinary way with him, and would some- 
 247
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 times, on these occasions, blush so violently 
 that his face would become almost purple. 
 His soldierly alertness and sternness relaxed 
 surprisingly at some times and at others were 
 exaggerated into unnecessary acerbity, his con- 
 duft in this regard suggesting that of a drunken 
 man who knows that he is drunk and who now 
 and then makes a brave effort to appear sober. 
 All these things, and more, indicating some 
 mental strain, or some dreadful apprehension, 
 or perhaps something worse than either, were 
 observed partly by me and partly by an intelli- 
 gent officer whose watch upon the man had 
 been secured by me. 
 
 To be more particular, the afflifted man 
 was observed often to start suddenly and in 
 alarm, look quickly round, and make some un- 
 intelligent monosyllabic answer, seemingly to 
 an inaudible question that no visible person 
 had asked. He acquired the reputation, too, 
 of having taken lately to nightmares, for in 
 the middle of the night he would shriek in 
 the most dreadful fashion, alarming his room- 
 mates prodigiously. After these attacks he 
 would sit up in bed, his ruddy face devoid of 
 color, his eyes glassy and shining, his breath- 
 ing broken with gasps, and his body wet with 
 a cold perspiration. 
 
 248
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 Knowledge of these developments and trans- 
 formations spread throughout the garrison ; but 
 the few (mostly women) who dared to express 
 sympathy or suggest a tonic encountered so 
 violent rebuffs that they blessed Heaven for 
 escaping alive from his word-volleys. Even 
 the garrison surgeon, who had a kindly manner, 
 and the commanding general, who was con- 
 structed on dignified and impressive lines, re- 
 ceived little thanks for their solicitude. Clearly 
 the doughty old officer, who had fought like a 
 bulldog in two wars and a hundred battles, 
 was suffering deeply from some undiscoverable 
 malady. 
 
 The next extraordinary thing which he did 
 was to visit one evening (not so clandestinely 
 as to escape my watch) a spirit medium ex- 
 traordinary, because he always had scoffed at 
 the idea of spirit communications. I saw him 
 as he was leaving the medium's rooms. His 
 face was purple, his eyes were bulging and 
 terrified, and he tottered in his walk. A 
 policeman, seeing his distress, advanced to 
 assist him ; whereupon the soldier hoarsely 
 begged, 
 
 Call a hack." 
 
 Into it he fell, and asked to be driven to his 
 quarters. I hastily ascended to the medium's 
 249
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 rooms, and found her lying unconscious on the 
 floor. Soon, with my aid, she recalled her 
 wits, but her conscious state was even more 
 alarming than the other. At first she regarded 
 me with terror, and cried, 
 
 " It is horrible for you to hound him so !" 
 
 I assured her that I was hounding no one. 
 
 " Oh, I thought you were the spir I mean 
 I oh, but it was standing exaftly where 
 you are !" she exclaimed. 
 
 " I suppose so," I agreed, " but you can see 
 that I am not the young man's spirit. How- 
 ever, I am familiar with this whole case, 
 madam, and if I can be of any service in the 
 matter I should be glad if you would inform 
 me. I am aware that our friend is persecuted 
 by a spirit, which visits him frequently, and I 
 am positive that through you it has informed 
 him that the end is not far away, and that our 
 elderly friend's death will assume some terrible 
 form. Is there anything that I can do to avert 
 the tragedy ?" 
 
 The woman stared at me in a horrified 
 silence. " How did you know these things ?" 
 she gasped. 
 
 " That is immaterial. When will the 
 tragedy occur ? Can I prevent it ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes !" she exclaimed. " It will 
 250
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 happen this very night ! But no earthly power 
 can prevent it !" 
 
 She came close to me and looked at me with 
 an expression of the most acute terror. 
 
 " Merciful God ! what will become of me ? 
 He is to be murdered, you understand mur- 
 dered in cold blood by a spirit and he knows 
 it and I know it! If he is spared long enough 
 he will tell them at the garrison, and they will 
 all think that I had something to do with it ! 
 Oh, this is terrible, terrible, and yet I dare 
 not say a word in advance nobody there 
 would believe in what the spirits say, and they 
 will think that I had a hand in the murder !" 
 The woman's agony was pitiful. 
 
 " Be assured that he will say nothing about 
 it," I said ; " and if you keep your tongue 
 from wagging you need fear nothing." 
 
 With this and a few other hurried words 
 of comfort, I soothed her and hastened away. 
 
 For I had interesting work on hand : it is 
 not often that one may be in at such a murder 
 as that ! I ran to a livery stable, secured a 
 swift horse, mounted him, and spurred furi- 
 ously for the reservation. The hack, with its 
 generous start, had gone far on its way, .but 
 my horse was nimble, and his legs felt the 
 pricking of my eagerness. A few miles of 
 251
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 this furious pursuit brought me within sight 
 of the hack just as it was crossing a dark 
 ravine near the reservation. As I came nearer 
 I imagined that the hack swayed somewhat, 
 and that a fleeing shadow escaped from it into 
 the tree-banked further wall of the ravine. I 
 certainly was not in error with regard to the 
 swaying, for it had roused the dull notice of the 
 driver. I saw him turn, with an air of alarm 
 in his aftion, and then pull up with a heavy 
 swing upon the reins. At this moment I 
 dashed up and halted. 
 
 " Anything the matter ?" I asked. 
 
 " I don't know," he answered, getting down. 
 " I felt the carriage sway, and I see that the 
 door's wide open. Guess my load thought 
 he'd sobered up enough to get out and walk, 
 without troubling me or his pocket-book." 
 
 Meanwhile I too had alighted ; then struck 
 a match, and by its light we discovered, 
 through the open door, the " load" huddled 
 confusedly on the floor of the hack, face up- 
 ward, his chin compressed upon his breast by 
 his leaning against the further door, and look- 
 ing altogether vulgar, misshapen, and misera- 
 bly unlike a soldier. He neither moved nor 
 spoke when we called. We hastily clambered 
 within and lifted him upon the seat, but his 
 252
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 head rolled about with an awful looseness and 
 freedom, and another match disclosed a ghastly 
 dead face and wide eyes that stared horribly at 
 nothing. 
 
 " You would better drive the body to head- 
 quarters," I said. 
 
 Instead of following, I cantered back to 
 town, housed my horse, and went straightway 
 to bed; and this will prove to be the first 
 information that I was the " mysterious man 
 on a horse," whom the coroner could never 
 find. 
 
 About a year afterwards I received the fol- 
 lowing letter (which is observed to be in fair 
 English) from Stockholm, Sweden : 
 
 " DEAR SIR, For some years I have been 
 reading your remarkable psychological studies 
 with great interest, and I take the liberty to 
 suggest a theme for your able pen. I have 
 just found in a library here a newspaper, dated 
 about a year ago, in which is an account of 
 the mysterious death of a military officer in a 
 hack." 
 
 Then followed the particulars, as I have 
 already detailed them, and the very theme of 
 post-mortem revenge which I have adopted in 
 253
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 this setting out of fafts. Some persons may 
 regard the coincidence between my corre- 
 spondent's suggestion and my private and ex- 
 clusive knowledge as being a very remarkable 
 thing ; but there are likely even more wonder- 
 ful things in the world, and at none of them 
 do I longer marvel. More extraordinary still 
 is his suggestion that in the dynamite explosion 
 a dog or a quarter of beef might as well have 
 been employed as a suicide-minded man ; that, 
 in short, the man may not have killed himself 
 at all, but might have employed a presumption 
 of such an occurrence to render more effective 
 a physical persecution ending in murder by 
 the living man who had posed as a spirit. The 
 letter even suggested an arrangement with a 
 spirit medium, and I regard that also as a queer 
 thing. 
 
 The declared purpose of this letter was to 
 suggest material for another of my " psycho- 
 logical studies ;" but I submit that the whole 
 affair is of too grave a character for treatment 
 in the levity of fiction. And if the fafts and 
 coincidences should prove less puzzling to 
 others than to me, a praiseworthy service 
 might be done to humanity by the presenta- 
 tion of whatever solution a better understand- 
 ing than mine might evolve. 
 254
 
 AN ORIGINAL REVENGE 
 
 The only remaining disclosure which I am 
 prepared now to make is that my correspondent 
 signed himself " Ramtarg," an odd-sounding 
 name, but for all I know it may be respeftable 
 in Sweden. And yet there is something about 
 the name that haunts me unceasingly, much as 
 does some strange dream which we know we 
 have dreamt and yet which it is impossible to 
 remember. 
 
 255
 
 Two Singular Men 
 
 r I ^HE first of these was a powerful Italian, 
 J. topped with a dense brush of rebellious 
 black hair. The circumstances leading up to 
 his employment in the Great Oriental Dime 
 Museum as the Marvellous Tuft-nosed Wild 
 Man, Hoolagaloo, captured on the Island of 
 Milo, in the ^Egean Sea, after a desperate 
 struggle," were these : 
 
 He had been a wood-chopper, possessed 
 of prodigious strength and a violent temper. 
 One day he and a companion in the moun- 
 tains fell out and fought. The Italian then 
 had to walk twenty miles to find a surgeon, 
 being in great need of his services. When he 
 presented himself to the surgeon his face was 
 heavily bandaged with blood-soaked cloths. 
 He began to fumble in his pockets, and his 
 face betrayed deep anxiety when he failed to 
 find what he sought. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" asked the surgeon, 
 " and what are you seeking ?" 
 
 The man uncovered his mouth and in 
 256
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 a voice like the sound of an ophicleide, an- 
 swered : 
 
 " Mina nosa." 
 
 " Your nose !" 
 
 " Aha. T'ought I bring Mm, butta no 
 find." 
 
 " Brought your nose in your pocket !" 
 
 " Dunno may be losta. Fella fighta me ; 
 cut ofFa da nose." 
 
 The surgeon assured him that the severed 
 nose would have been useless. 
 
 " But I wanta da nose !" exclaimed the man, 
 in despair. 
 
 The surgeon said that he could make a new 
 one, and the man appeared greatly relieved in 
 mind. A removal of the bandages disclosed 
 the faft that a considerable part of the nose 
 was. gone. The surgeon then proceeded to 
 perform the familiar rhinoplastic operation, 
 which consists in making a V-shaped incision 
 through the skin of the forehead immediately 
 above the nose, loosening it, and bringing it 
 down with a half-turn, to keep the cuticle out- 
 ward, and covering the nose-stump with it. 
 In preparing for this he made an interesting 
 discovery. The place for the man's nose was 
 long and his forehead low, so that in order to 
 secure sufficient length for the flap he had to 
 17 257
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 encroach on the hair-covered scalp. There 
 was no help for it. With some misgivings 
 the surgeon shaved the hair and then per- 
 formed the operation with admirable success. 
 
 His fears, however, in time were realized. 
 All around the end of the nose there appeared 
 a broad line of black hair. When the skin 
 was in its normal position above the forehead 
 the hair on the upper edge of it had grown 
 downward ; but as the skin was inverted in its 
 new position the hair, of course, grew upward, 
 curving towards the eyes. It gave the man 
 a grotesque and hideous appearance, and this 
 made him furious. The surgeon, having a 
 quick wit and a regard for the integrity of his 
 bones, introduced him to Signer Castellani, 
 proprietor of the Great Oriental Dime Mu- 
 seum, and that enterprising worthy immedi- 
 ately engaged him. And thus it was that the 
 man became the greatest curiosity in the world. 
 
 Among his companions in the museum were 
 the Severed Lady, who apparently was non- 
 existent below the waist ; the Remarkable Tat- 
 tooed Lady, who had been rescued from Chinese 
 pirates in the Coral Sea, and some others. To 
 them the tuft-nosed man was known as Bat 
 surmised to be a contraction of Bartolommeo. 
 
 The other singular man with which this 
 258
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 narrative is concerned was a small, delicate, 
 mild-mannered, impecunious fellow, who made 
 a living by writing for the press. He and 
 Castellani were friends, and he was on excel- 
 lent terms with the " freaks." But as this 
 narrative is to tell the little secrets of the mu- 
 seum, it should be explained that the real 
 object of the young man's deepest admiration 
 was Mademoiselle Zoe, the Severed Lady, billed 
 also as the Wonderful French Phenomenon. 
 She was known in private life as Muggie 
 (formerly Muggy, and probably originally 
 Margaret), and she was the only daughter and 
 special pride of Castellani. Zoe was rosy- 
 cheeked, pretty, and had a freckled nose. The 
 impecunious writer was named Sampey. Sam- 
 pey secretly loved Zoe. 
 
 As the Severed Lady, Mademoiselle Zoe's 
 professional duties were monotonous. They 
 gave her abundant opportunities for observa- 
 tion and reflection, and, being young and of 
 the feminine sex, she dreamed. 
 
 What she observed most was eyes. These 
 were the eyes that looked at her as she rested 
 in her little swing when on exhibition. Her 
 gilt booth was very popular, for she was 
 pretty, and some kind-hearted visitors at the 
 show pitied the poor thing because she ended 
 259
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 at the waist ! But far from being depressed 
 by the apparent absence of all below the lower 
 edge of her gold belt with its glittering 
 diamond buckle, she was cheerful, and now 
 and then would sing a little song. Her sweet- 
 ness of manner and voice and the plumpness 
 of her rounded arms and shoulders were what 
 had won Sampey's heart and made him all the 
 more zealous in his useful occupation of devis- 
 ing the names which Castellani bestowed on 
 his freaks. 
 
 Hoolagaloo had suffered a turning of the 
 head by his good fortune. He imagined that 
 because he was monstrous he was great. That 
 made him arrogant and presumptuous. He, 
 too, loved Zoe. Thus it came about that a 
 rivalry was established between Sampey and 
 the Wild Man of Milo. How was it with 
 Zoe? Which loved she? or loved she 
 either ? Observing and reflecting, she dreamed. 
 As it was eyes only that she saw, it was of 
 eyes only that she dreamed. 
 
 " Ah," sighed this innocent girl, " that I 
 could see in reality the eyes of my dreams ! 
 So many, many eyes stare at me in my booth, 
 and yet the eyes of my dreams come not ! 
 Blue eyes, brown eyes, black eyes, hazel eyes, 
 gray eyes, all of every shade, but not yet have 
 260
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 come the eyes I so long to see ! Those which 
 do come are commonplace ; their owners are 
 commonplace just ordinary mortals. I'm 
 sure that princes, knights, and heroes must 
 have the eyes that beam on me as I sleep. 
 I'm sure, indeed, that such eyes will come in 
 time, and that by such a sign I shall know my 
 hero, my master, my love !" 
 
 She cautiously asked the Wild Man of Milo 
 about it one day, but his answer was a coarse 
 guffaw ; then, seeing that he had made a mis- 
 take, he kissed her. The hair of his tufted 
 nose thus got into her pretty blue eyes, and 
 she shuddered. 
 
 Then she went to Sampey, who was wise, 
 cool, and politic. He listened, amazed, but 
 attentive. The opportunity of his life had 
 come. When he had gathered up his dis- 
 mayed and scattered wits, he gravely answered: 
 
 " Muggie, these eyes that appear in your 
 dreams is it a particular color or a certain 
 expression which they have ?" 
 
 " Color," she answered. 
 
 " What color ?" 
 
 " A soft, pale, limpid amber." 
 
 She said it so innocently, so earnestly, so 
 sweetly, that he could doubt neither her sin- 
 cerity nor her sanity. Thus the crisis had 
 261
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 fallen upon him and had nearly crushed 
 him. 
 
 Nevertheless, he set his wits at work. Pon- 
 dering, analyzing, ransacking every nook in the 
 warehouse of his mental resources, he fought 
 bravely with despair. Presently a bright ray 
 of intelligence, descended Heaven knows 
 whence, swept across his thought-pinched 
 face. This bright beam, growing more and 
 more effulgent, mounting higher and higher 
 till it illuminated all his faculties, finally lighted 
 up his way to become one of the two singular 
 men of this narrative. 
 
 " I see," he said, trying to veil the glow 
 of triumph in his face, " that you have not 
 wholly mastered the problem of the eyes. 
 True, it is only heroes that have amber eyes. 
 But such eyes are a badge of heroism sent by 
 heaven ; and, though a man may not have been 
 heroic in any outward sense, when the essence 
 of true heroism is breathed into him his eyes, 
 without his knowledge of the fadl, may assume 
 the amber hue of your dreams. Sometimes, 
 in the development of the spirit of heroism, 
 this color is only transient ; in time it may 
 become permanent. Muggie, these dreams 
 indicate your destiny. You should marry 
 none but a hero, and when he comes you will 
 262
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 know him by his amber eyes." With this 
 Sampey sighed, for Muggie was looking ear- 
 nestly into his gray eyes. 
 
 Had he thus, in blind self-sacrifice to the 
 whim of a foolish girl, cast himself into a pit ? 
 If so, what meant his light step and cheerful 
 smile as soon as she was out of sight ? 
 
 Mademoiselle Zoe, the Severed Lady, swung 
 in half-person and sang her little song on a 
 night a week or two afterwards, just as she 
 had sung and swung many a night before. 
 Wondering eyes of every kind were staring at 
 her, and presently her foolish little heart gave 
 a great bound. There before her, regarding 
 her with infinite tenderness, was a divine pair 
 of soft, pale, limpid amber eyes ! (A woman 
 in the audience happened also to see this ex- 
 traordinary spectacle, and it frightened her so 
 badly that she fainted, thinking she had seen a 
 corpse.) 
 
 The amber eyes instantly disappeared, along 
 with their owner, one Sampey. A thumpy 
 little heart in a round, plump body knew that 
 it was he ; knew, therefore, that her destiny 
 was come, and, most extraordinary of all, in 
 the shape of her good father's literary bureau ! 
 Yet what shock there was next day, when the 
 hero of her dreams came to her with his 
 263
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 ordinary pale-gray eyes, blurred somewhat and 
 inclined to humidity ! 
 
 " Sampey !" she exclaimed in dismay, tum- 
 bled thus rudely from the clouds. 
 
 " Muggie !" 
 
 " Your eyes last night then you were a 
 hero ; but to-day " 
 
 " A hero !" innocently echoed Sampey. 
 
 "Why, yes! Last night you had amber 
 eyes such beautiful eyes the hero-eyes of 
 my dreams !" 
 
 " My dear child, you certainly were dream- 
 ing." 
 
 " Oh, no ! I saw them ! My heart jumped 
 so ! I knew you I knew you and your 
 eyes were amber !" 
 
 Sampey smiled sadly and a little compla- 
 cently, and with great modesty said : 
 
 " I can't doubt you, my dear child, but I 
 assure you that 1 was unconscious of my amber 
 eyes. I wish that I could feel at liberty to 
 confess to you that lately I have had strange 
 whisperings of heroism in my soul but that 
 would be boasting, and true heroism is always 
 modest. Still, I ought not to be surprised 
 that you discovered the aftual presence before 
 I was aware even of its existence ; but such, 
 indeed, my dear, is the peculiarity of the true 
 264
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 hero he is ever unaware of his own hero- 
 ism." He took her hand languishingly and 
 squeezed it. She blushed and fled. 
 
 Signer Castellani, besides being wealthy, 
 was a man of business. His daughter should 
 marry a man who had money sufficient to 
 insure his worth. With perspicacity rare in 
 a man, he had observed that the two singular 
 men of this narrative admired his daughter. 
 Now, Bat, being a freak, was making money 
 rapidly, while Sampey was only a poor literary 
 bureau ! Castellani felt the need of a partner. 
 Why should not a partner be a son-in-law ? 
 Surely Bat was much more desirable than Sam- 
 pey ! 
 
 Sampey was wise and Bat was foolish. On 
 the other hand, Bat was courageous and Sam- 
 pey was timid. Bat had the courage of a 
 brute. Sampey knew that there were certain 
 ways of frightening brave brutes he had even 
 seen a prize-fighter join a church. He pre- 
 pared for Bat. 
 
 One day he entered the museum between 
 exhibitions and sought the Wild Man of Milo. 
 That worthy was leisurely smoking a cigarette 
 in a quiet corner, and was making the smoke 
 curl up gracefully over the hairy tuft on his 
 nose. Sampey was paler than usual and a 
 265
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 little nervous, for the business of his visit was 
 tinged with hazard. Bat, who happened to 
 feel good-natured, gave the first greeting. 
 
 " Hey !" he called out. 
 
 Sampey went straight to him. 
 
 " You lika da show, ha, Samp ? You come 
 effery day. Gooda place, ha, Samp ?" 
 
 " A very good place, Bat," quietly answered 
 Sampey, who tried hard to appear indifferent 
 as he fumbled nervously in his pocket. 
 
 " Signer Castellani, he biga mon, reecha 
 mon, gooda mon. You like 'im ?" 
 
 " Very much ." Sampey was afting strangely . 
 
 Bat's eyes twinkled a little dangerously. 
 
 " You lika da gal, too, ha, Samp ?" 
 
 " The ah the tattooed woman ? Yes, 
 very well, indeed." 
 
 " Ha, you sly Samp ! I spik about da 
 leetle ploompa gal da Mug." 
 
 " Oh ! Muggie ? Castellani's daughter ?" 
 
 " Ha." 
 
 " Well, I don't know her so very well." 
 
 " You don' know da Mugga ?" Bat's look 
 was becoming dangerously fierce. He straight- 
 ened himself up from his lounging posture, 
 and his big muscles swelled. " You don' 
 know da Mugga ! You tink I no see. You 
 loafa da Mugga ! You wanta marry her ! You 
 266
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 tink 'er reecha, pooty. You miseraba sneaka !" 
 Here Bat, who had worked himself into a fury, 
 swore an eloquent Italian oath. 
 
 Sampey's time had come. The two men 
 were alone, Bat furious and desperate with 
 jealousy ; Sampey fearful, but determined ; 
 brutality against wit, strength against cunning, 
 fury against patience, a bulldog matched with 
 a mink, a game-cock pitted against an owl. 
 
 Sampey pretended to have dropped some- 
 thing accidentally. He stooped to pick it up, 
 and some seconds elapsed before he pretended 
 to have found it. While he was searching for 
 it he approached nearer to Bat, and when he 
 straightened up he brought his face very close 
 to Bat's, and suddenly raised his eyes and 
 stared steadily into those of the Wild Man of 
 Milo. 
 
 Bat meanwhile had kept up an insulting 
 tirade, his evident purpose being to force the 
 gentle writer into a fight. But when Sampey 
 raised his eyes and fixed them in a peculiar 
 stare, Bat regarded him a moment in speech- 
 less wonder, and then sprang back with a livid 
 face, and in terror cried out : 
 
 Santa Maria !" 
 
 For half a minute he gazed, horrified, at the 
 sight which confronted him, his mouth open, 
 267
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 his eyes staring fascinated, terror-stricken, 
 and aghast. Sampey, the gentle, usually dove- 
 eyed, was now transformed. Those were not 
 the accustomed gray eyes with which Bat was 
 familiar, nor yet the limpid, amber eyes which 
 had set poor Zoe's heart bounding ; Sampey 
 gazed upon his viftim with eyes that were a 
 fierce and insurrectionary scarlet ! 
 
 Bat, contumelious now no longer, dashed 
 wildly away. He spread his wonderful tale. 
 Castellani, whom it finally reached, frowned, 
 thinking that Bat was drunk. The Tattooed 
 Lady laughed outright. Zoe wondered and 
 was troubled ; but that night, just before the 
 curtain of her gilt booth was drawn at the 
 close of the exhibition, there stood her hero 
 Sampey, gazing tenderly at her with eyes of a 
 soft, pale, limpid amber. And she slept 
 soundly after that. 
 
 When Sampey visited the museum next day, 
 he was eyed with considerable curiosity by the 
 freaks. Castellani asked him direftly what 
 Bat meant by his stories. Sampey had ex- 
 pefted this question, and was ready for it. 
 After binding the showman to everlasting 
 secrecy, he said : 
 
 " I have made a great discovery, but it is 
 impossible for me to go into all its details. It 
 268
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 must be sufficient at present for me to say that 
 after many years of scientific experiment I 
 have learned the secret of changing the color 
 of my eyes at will." 
 
 He said this very simply, as though uncon- 
 scious of announcing one of the most extraor- 
 dinary things to which the ages have given 
 birth. 
 
 But Castellani was a study. Some great 
 shock, resembling apoplexy, seemed to have 
 invaded his system. Being a shrewd business 
 man, he presently recovered his composure, 
 and then in the most indifferent manner re- 
 marked that a person who could change the 
 color of his eyes at will ought to be able, per- 
 haps, if he should get started right, to make a 
 little money, possibly, out of the accomplish- 
 ment ; and then he offered Sampey forty dol- 
 lars a week to pose as a freak in the Great 
 Oriental Dime Museum. Sampey, who knew 
 that the Wild Man of Milo's salary was two 
 hundred dollars a week (which, although large, 
 was well earned, seeing that everybody had to 
 pull the tuft on his nose to be sure that it grew 
 there), asked time to consider the splendid 
 offer, which to him was a fortune. 
 
 There was the certainty of losing Zoe when 
 she should learn that his amber eyes were not 
 269
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 really heroic. He went to a retired showman 
 and asked him what salaries might be com- 
 manded by a man with a hair-tufted nose and 
 a man who could change the color of his eyes 
 to any other color at will. This showman 
 answered : 
 
 " I've seen Castellani's man with the tuft. 
 He gets two hundred dollars a week. That is 
 pretty high. If you can bring me a man who 
 can change the color of his eyes at will to any 
 other color, I will pay him a thousand dollars 
 a week and start in the business again." 
 
 Sampey slept not a wink that night. 
 
 Meanwhile a change had taken place in 
 Zoe : she had suddenly become more charm- 
 ing than ever. Her gentleness and sweetness 
 had become conspicuously augmented, and she 
 was so kind and sweet-mannered to all, in- 
 cluding the Wild Man of Milo (whom she 
 had formerly avoided through instinftive fear), 
 that Bat took greater heart and swore to win 
 her, though he might have to wade through 
 oceans of Sampey blood. Mark this : Stake 
 not too much on a woman's condescension 
 to you; it may come through love for an- 
 other. 
 
 Zoe was innocent, honest, and confiding. 
 Innocence measures the strength of faith. 
 270
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 The charm of faith is its absurdity. Zoe 
 believed in Sampey. 
 
 Sampey, grown surprisingly bold and self- 
 reliant, named his terms to Castellani a half- 
 interest in the business and Castellani, swear 
 and bully and bluster as he might, must accept. 
 This made Sampey a rich man at once. Cas- 
 tellani, exceedingly gracious and friendly after 
 the signing of the compaft, proposed a quiet 
 supper in his private apartments in celebration 
 of the new arrangement, and presently he and 
 Zoe and Sampey were enjoying a very choice 
 meal. Zoe was dazzlingly radiant and pretty, 
 but a certain strange constraint sat between her 
 and Sampey. Once, when she dropped her 
 napkin and Sampey picked it up, his hand 
 accidentally touched one of her daintily slip- 
 pered feet, and his blushes were painful to 
 see. 
 
 While they were thus engaged, Bat, without 
 ceremony, burst in upon them, his face aglow 
 and his eyes flashing triumph. He carried in 
 his hand a small box, which he rudely thrust 
 under their noses. When Sampey saw it he 
 turned deathly pale and shrank back, power- 
 less to move or speak. 
 
 " I ketcha da scound !" exclaimed Bat, shak- 
 ing his finger in the cowering Sampey's face. 
 271
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 " I watch *im ; I ketcha da scound ! He play 
 you da dirtee tr-r-icks !" 
 
 The Wild Man of Milo placed the box on 
 the table and raised the lid. Within appeared 
 a number of curious, small, cup-shaped trinkets 
 of opaque white glass, each marked in the 
 centre with an annular band of color surround- 
 ing a centre of clear glass, the range of colors 
 being great, and the trinkets arranged in pairs 
 according to color. There were also a vial 
 labelled " cocaine" and a small camePs-hair 
 brush. 
 
 " You looka me," resumed Hoolagaloo, 
 greatly excited. " I maka mine eye changa 
 colah, lika da scounda Samp." 
 
 With that he dipped the brush into the vial 
 and applied it to his eyes. Then he picked 
 up two of the curious little glass cups, and 
 slipped them, one at a time, over his eyeballs 
 and under his eyelids, where they fitted snugly. 
 They were artificial eyes which Sampey had 
 had made to cover his natural eyeballs on occa- 
 sion. Bat struck a mock-tragic attitude and 
 hissed : 
 
 Diavolo !" 
 
 By a strange accident he had picked out two 
 which were not mates. One of his eyes was 
 a soft, pale, limpid amber and the other a fierce 
 272
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 and insurrectionary red. These, with his 
 tufted nose and his tragic attitude, gave him 
 an appearance so grotesque and hideous that 
 Zoe, after springing to her feet and throwing 
 her arms wildly aloft, fell in a dead faint into 
 Sampey's arms. 
 
 Bat gloated over his rival ; Castellani was 
 dumfounded. Presently Sampey's nerve re- 
 turned with his wits. 
 
 " Well," he remarked, contemptuously, 
 drawing Zoe closer and holding her with a 
 tender solicitude " well, what of it ?" 
 
 His insolence enraged Hoolagaloo. " H 
 hwat of eet ! Santa Maria ! Da scound ! 
 Ha, ha ! Da gal no marry you now !" 
 
 Sampey deliberately moved Zoe so that he 
 might reach his watch, and after looking calmly 
 at it a moment he said : 
 
 " Muggie and I have been married just thirty 
 hours." 
 
 The announcement stunned the Wild Man. 
 Castellani himself had a hard mental struggle 
 to realize the situation, and then, with his 
 accustomed equanimity and his old-time air 
 of authority, he said : 
 
 " Well, phat is oil the row aboot, anny- 
 how ? D'ye want to shpile th' mon's thrick, 
 Misther Bat? An' thin, Misther Bat, it's a 
 
 18 273
 
 TWO SINGULAR MEN 
 
 domned gude wan, it is ; an' more'n thot, 
 me gintlemanly son-in-law is me partner, too, 
 Misther Bat, I'd have ye know, an' he's got 
 aut'ority in this show." 
 
 That finished the Wild Man of Milo. He 
 staggered out, shaved his nose, bought an axe, 
 and fled to the mountains to chop wood again, 
 leaving the Mysterious Man with the Spedlre 
 Eyes to become the happiest husband and the 
 most prosperous freak and showman in the 
 world. 
 
 274
 
 The Faithful Amulet 
 
 9* 
 
 A QUAINT old rogue, who called him- 
 self Rabaya, the Mystic, was one of 
 the many extraordinary characters of that odd 
 corner of San Francisco known as the Latin 
 Quarter. His business was the selling of 
 charms and amulets, and his generally harm- 
 less practices received an impressive aspeft 
 from his Hindu parentage, his great age, his 
 small, wizened frame, his deeply wrinkled 
 face, his outlandish dress, and the barbaric 
 fittings of his den. 
 
 One of his most constant customers was 
 James Freeman, the half-piratical owner and 
 skipper of the " Blue Crane." This queer 
 little barkentine, of light tonnage but wonder- 
 ful sailing qualities, is remembered in every 
 port between Sitka and Callao. All sorts of 
 strange stories are told of her exploits, but 
 these mostly were manufactured by supersti- 
 tious and highly imaginative sailors, who com- 
 monly demonstrate the natural affinity existing 
 275
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 between idleness and lying. It has been said 
 not only that she engaged in smuggling, piracy, 
 and " blackbirding" (which is kidnapping Gil- 
 bert Islanders and selling them to the coffee- 
 planters of Central America), but that she 
 maintained special relations with Satan, founded 
 on the power of mysterious charms which her 
 skipper was supposed to have procured from 
 some mysterious source and was known to 
 employ on occasion. Beyond the information 
 which his manifests and clearance papers di- 
 vulged, nothing of his supposed shady opera- 
 tions could be learned either from him or his 
 crew ; for his sailors, like him, were a strangely 
 silent lot all sharp, keen-eyed young fellows 
 who never drank and who kept to themselves 
 when in port. An uncommon circumstance 
 was that there were never any vacancies in the 
 crew, except one that happened as the result 
 of Freeman's last visit to Rabaya, and it came 
 about in the following remarkable manner : 
 
 Freeman, like most other men who follow 
 the sea, was superstitious, and he ascribed his 
 fair luck to the charms which he secretly pro- 
 cured from Rabaya. It is now known that he 
 visited the mystic whenever he came to the 
 port of San Francisco, and there are some to- 
 day who believe that Rabaya had an interest 
 276
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 in the supposed buccaneering enterprises of 
 the " Blue Crane." 
 
 Among the most intelligent and aftive of 
 the " Blue Crane's" crew was a Malay known 
 to his mates as the Flying Devil. This had 
 come to him by reason of his extraordinary 
 agility. No monkey could have been more 
 aftive than he in the rigging ; he could make 
 flying leaps with astonishing ease. He could 
 not have been more than twenty-five years 
 old, but he had the shrivelled appearance of 
 an old man, and was small and lean. His face 
 was smooth-shaved and wrinkled, his eyes 
 deep-set and intensely black and brilliant. 
 His mouth was his most forbidding feature. 
 It was large, and the thin lips were drawn 
 tightly over large and protruding teeth, its 
 aspeft being prognathous and menacing. Al- 
 though quiet and not given to laughter, at 
 times he would smile, and then the expression 
 of his face was such as to give even Freeman a 
 sensation of impending danger. 
 
 It was never clearly known what was the 
 real mission of the " Blue Crane" when she 
 sailed the last time from San Francisco. Some 
 supposed that she intended to loot a sunken 
 vessel of her treasure ; others that the enter- 
 prise was one of simple piracy, involving the 
 277
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 killing of the crew and the scuttling of the 
 ship in mid-ocean ; others that a certain large 
 consignment of opium, for which the customs 
 authorities were on the lookout, was likely 
 about to be smuggled into some port of Puget 
 Sound. In any event, the business ahead 
 must have been important, for it is now known 
 that in order to ensure its success Freeman 
 bought an uncommonly expensive and potent 
 charm from Rabaya. 
 
 When Freeman went to buy this charm he 
 failed to notice that the Flying Devil was 
 slyly following him ; neither he nor the half- 
 blind charm-seller observed the Malay slip 
 into Rabaya's den and witness the matter that 
 there went forward. The intruder must have 
 heard something that stirred every evil instinct 
 in him. Rabaya (whom I could hardly be 
 persuaded to believe under oath) years after- 
 wards told me that the charm which he sold 
 to Freeman was one of extraordinary virtue. 
 For many generations it had been in the family 
 of one of India's proudest rajahs, and until it 
 was stolen the arms of England could not pre- 
 vail over that part of the far East. If borne 
 by a person of lofty character (as he solemnly 
 informed me he believed Freeman to be) it 
 would never fail to bring the highest good 
 278
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 fortune ; for, although the amulet was laden 
 with evil powers as well as good, a worthy 
 person could resist the evil and employ only 
 the good. Contrariwise, the amulet in 'the 
 hands of an evil person would be a most potent 
 and dangerous engine of harm. 
 
 It was a small and very old trinket, made 
 of copper and representing a serpent twined 
 grotesquely about a human heart ; through the 
 heart a dagger was thrust, and the loop for 
 holding the suspending string was formed by 
 one of the coils of the snake. The charm had 
 a wonderful history, which must be reserved 
 for a future story ; the sum of it being that as 
 it had been as often in the hands of bad men 
 as of good, it had wrought as many calamities 
 as blessings. It was perfectly safe and useful 
 so Rabaya soberly told me in the hands of 
 such a man as Freeman. 
 
 Now, as no one knows the soundings and 
 breadth of his own wickedness, the Flying 
 Devil (who, Rabaya explained, must have 
 overheard the conversation attending its trans- 
 ference to Freeman) reflected only that if he 
 could secure possession of the charm his for- 
 tune would be made ; as he could not procure 
 it by other means, he must steal it. More- 
 over, he must have seen the price five thou- 
 279
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 sand dollars in gold which Freeman paid for 
 the trinket; and that alone was sufficient to 
 move the Malay's cupidity. At all events, it 
 is known that he set himself to steal the charm 
 and desert from the barkentine. 
 
 From this point on to the catastrophe my 
 information is somewhat hazy. I cannot say, 
 for instance, just how the theft was committed, 
 but it is certain that Freeman was not aware 
 of it until a considerable time had passed. 
 What did concern him particularly was the 
 absence of the Malay when the barkentine was 
 weighing anchor and giving a line for a tow 
 out to sea. The Malay was a valuable sailor; 
 to replace him adequately was clearly so im- 
 possible a task that Freeman decided, after a 
 profitless and delaying search of hours, to 
 leave port without him or another in his 
 place. It was with a heavy heart, somewhat 
 lightened by a confident assumption that the 
 amulet was safe in his possession, that Freeman 
 headed down the channel for the Golden 
 Gate. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Flying Devil was having 
 strange adventures. In a hastily arranged 
 disguise, the principal feature of which was a 
 gentleman's street dress, in which he might 
 pass careless scrutiny as a thrifty Japanese 
 280
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 awkwardly trying to adapt himself to the cus- 
 toms of his environment, he emerged from a 
 water-front lodging-house of the poorer sort, 
 and ascended leisurely to the summit of Tele- 
 graph Hill, in order to make a careful survey 
 of the city from that prominent height ; for it 
 was needful that he know how best to escape. 
 From that alluring eminence he saw not only 
 a great part of the city, but also nearly the 
 whole of the bay of San Francisco and the 
 shores, towns, and mountains lying beyond. 
 His first particular attention was given to the 
 " Blue Crane," upon which he looked nearly 
 straight down as she rolled gently at her 
 moorings at the foot of Lombard Street. Two 
 miles to the west he saw the trees which con- 
 ceal the soldiers' barracks, and the command- 
 ing general's residence on the high promontory 
 known as Black Point, and these invited him 
 to seek concealment in their shadows until the 
 advent of night would enable him to work his 
 way down the peninsula of San Francisco to 
 the distant blue mountains of San Mateo. 
 Surmising that Freeman would make a search 
 for him, and that it would be confined to the 
 docks and their near vicinity, he imagined 
 that it would not be a difficult matter to es- 
 cape. 
 
 281
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 After getting his bearings the Malay was in 
 the aft of descending the hill by its northern 
 flank, when he observed a stranger leaning 
 against the parapet crowning the hill. The 
 man seemed to be watching him. Not refleft- 
 ing that his somewhat singular appearance 
 might have accounted for the scrutiny, his 
 suspicions were roused ; he feared, albeit 
 wrongly, that he was followed, for the 
 stranger had come up soon after him. As- 
 suming an air of indifference, he strolled about 
 until he was very near the stranger, and then 
 with the swiftness and ferocity of a tiger he 
 sprang and slipped a knife-blade between the 
 man's ribs. The stranger sank with a groan, 
 and the Malay fled down the hill. 
 
 It was a curious circumstance that the man 
 fell in front of one of the openings which 
 negleft had permitted the rains to wash under- 
 neath the parapet. He floundered as some 
 dying men will, and these movements caused 
 him to work his body through the opening. 
 That done, he started rolling down the steep 
 eastern declivity, the speed of his flight in- 
 creasing with every bound. Many cottages 
 are perched precariously on this precipitous 
 slope. Mrs. Armour, a resident of one of 
 them, was sitting in a rear room near the 
 282
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 window, sewing, when she was amazed to see 
 a man flying through the sash close beside her. 
 He came with so great violence that he tore 
 through a thin partition into an adjoining room 
 and landed in a shapeless heap against the 
 opposite wall. Mrs. Armour screamed for 
 help. A great commotion ensued, but it was 
 some time before the flight of the body was 
 connected with a murder on the parapet. 
 Nevertheless, the police were aftive, and 
 presently a dozen of them were upon the 
 broad trail which the murderer had left in his 
 flight down the hill. 
 
 In a short time the Malay found himself in 
 the lumber-piles of the northern water-front. 
 Thence, after gathering himself together, he 
 walked leisurely westward in the rear of the 
 wire-works, and traversed a little sand-beach 
 where mothers and nurses had children out for 
 an airing. The desperate spirit of perversity 
 which possessed the man (and which Rabaya 
 afterwards explained by the possession of the 
 amulet), made reckless by a belief that the 
 charm which he carried would preserve him 
 from all menaces, led him to steal a small 
 hand-satchel that lay on the beach near a well- 
 dressed woman. He walked away with it, 
 and then opened it and was rejoiced to find 
 283
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 that it contained some money and fine jewelry. 
 At this junfture one of the children, who had 
 observed the Malay's theft, called the woman's 
 attention to him. She started in pursuit, 
 raising a loud outcry, which emptied the ad- 
 jacent drinking-saloons of a pursuing crowd. 
 
 The Malay leaped forward with ample 
 ability to outstrip all his pursuers, but just as 
 he arrived in front of a large swimming estab- 
 lishment a bullet from a policeman's pistol 
 brought him to his knees. The crowd quickly 
 pressed around him. The criminal staggered 
 to his feet, made a fierce dash at a man who 
 stood in his way, and sank a good knife into 
 his body. Then he bounded away, fled 
 swiftly past a narrow beach where swimming- 
 clubs have their houses, and disappeared in the 
 ruins of a large old building that lay at the foot 
 of a sandy bluff on the water's edge. He was 
 trailed a short distance within the ruins by a 
 thin stream of blood which he left, and there 
 he was lost. It was supposed that he had 
 escaped to the old woollen-mill on Black 
 Point. 
 
 As in all other cases where a mob pursues a 
 fleeing criminal, the search was wild and dis- 
 orderly, so that if the Malay had left any 
 trail beyond the ruins it would have been 
 284
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 obliterated by trampling feet. Only one po- 
 liceman was in the crowd, but others, sum- 
 moned by telephone, were rapidly approaching 
 from all directions. Unintelligent and contra- 
 dictory rumors bewildered the police for a 
 time, but they formed a long picket line cover- 
 ing an arc which stretched from North Beach 
 to the new gas-works far beyond Black Point. 
 
 It was about this time that Captain Freeman 
 cast off and started out to sea. 
 
 The summit of Black Point is crowned with 
 the tall eucalyptus-trees which the Flying 
 Devil had seen from Telegraph Hill. A high 
 fence, which encloses the general's house, ex- 
 tends along the bluff of Black Point, near the 
 edge. A sentry paced in front of the gate to 
 the grounds, keeping out all who had not pro- 
 vided themselves with a pass. The sentry 
 had seen the crowd gathering towards the 
 east, and in the distance he noticed the brass 
 buttons of the police glistening in the west- 
 ern sunlight. He wondered what could be 
 afoot. 
 
 While he was thus engaged he observed a 
 small, dark, wiry man emerging upon the 
 bluff from the direction of the woollen-mill at 
 its eastern base. The stranger made straight 
 for the gate. 
 
 285
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 " You can't go in there," said the soldier, 
 " unless you have a pass." 
 
 " Da w'at ?" asked the stranger. 
 
 " A pass," repeated the sentry ; and then, 
 seeing that the man was a foreigner and im- 
 perfectly acquainted with English, he made 
 signs to explain his remark, still carrying his 
 bayonet-tipped rifle at shoulder-arms. The 
 stranger, whose sharp gleam of eye gave the 
 soldier an odd sensation, nodded and smiled. 
 
 Oh !" said he ; "I have." 
 
 He thrust his hand into his side-pocket, ad- 
 vancing meanwhile, and sending a swift glance 
 about. In the next moment the soldier found 
 himself sinking to the ground with an open jugu- 
 lar. 
 
 The Malay slipped within the grounds and 
 disappeared in the shrubbery. It was nearly 
 an hour afterwards that the soldier's body was 
 discovered, and, the crowd of police and citi- 
 zens arriving, it became known to the garrison 
 that the desperate criminal was immediately at 
 hand. The bugle sounded and the soldiers 
 came tumbling out of barracks. Then began 
 a search of every corner of the post. 
 
 It is likely that a feeling of relief came to 
 many a stout heart when it was announced 
 that the man had escaped by water, and was 
 286
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 now being swiftly carried down the channel 
 towards the Golden Gate by the ebb tide. 
 He was clearly seen in a small boat, keeping 
 such a course as was possible by means of a 
 rude board in place of oars. His escape had 
 occurred thus : Upon entering the grounds he 
 ran along the eastern fence, behind the shrub- 
 bery, to a transverse fence separating the gar- 
 den from the rear premises. He leaped the 
 fence, and then found himself face to face 
 with a large and formidable mastiff. He 
 killed the brute in a strange and bold manner 
 by choking. There was evidence of a long 
 and fearful struggle between man and brute. 
 The apparent reason for the man's failure to use 
 the knife was the first necessity of choking the 
 dog into silence and the subsequent need of em- 
 ploying both hands to maintain that advantage. 
 After disposing of the dog the Flying Devil, 
 wounded though he was, performed a feat 
 worthy of his sobriquet ; he leaped the rear 
 fence. At the foot of the bluff he found a 
 boat chained to a post sunk into the sand. 
 There was no way to release the boat except 
 by digging up the post. This the Malay did 
 with his hands for tools, and then threw the 
 post into the boat, and pushed off with a 
 board that he found on the beach. Then he 
 287
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 swung out into the tide, and it was some min- 
 utes afterwards that he was discovered from 
 the fort; and then he was so far away, and 
 there was so much doubt of his identity, that 
 the gunners hesitated for a time to fire upon 
 him. Then two dramatic things occurred. 
 
 Meeting the drifting boat was a heavy bank 
 of fog which was rolling in through the 
 Golden Gate. The murderer was heading 
 straight for it, paddling vigorously with the 
 tide. If once the fog should enfold him he 
 would be lost in the Pacific or killed on the 
 rocks almost beyond a peradventure, and yet 
 he was heading for such a fate with all the 
 strength that he possessed. This was what 
 first convinced his pursuers that he was the 
 man whom they sought none other would 
 have pursued so desperate a course. At the 
 same time a marine glass brought conviftion, 
 and the order was given to open fire. 
 
 A six-pound brass cannon roared, and 
 splinters flew from the boat ; but its occupant, 
 with tantalizing bravado, rose and waved his 
 hand defiantly. The six-pounder then sent 
 out a percussion shell, and just as the frail 
 boat was entering the fog it was blown into a 
 thousand fragments. Some of the observers 
 swore positively that they saw the Malay 
 288
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 floundering in the water a moment after the 
 boat was destroyed and before he was engulfed 
 by the fog, but this was deemed incredible. 
 In a short time the order of the post had been 
 restored and the police had taken themselves 
 away. 
 
 The other dramatic occurrence must remain 
 largely a matter of surmise, but only because 
 the evidence is so strange. 
 
 The great steel gun employed at the fort to 
 announce the setting of the sun thrust its black 
 muzzle into the fog. Had it been fired with 
 shot or shell its missile would have struck the 
 hills on the opposite side of the channel. But 
 the gun was never so loaded ; blank cartridges 
 were sufficient for its funftion. The bore of 
 the piece was of so generous a diameter that a 
 child or small man might have crept into it 
 had such a feat ever been thought of or dared. 
 
 There are three circumstances indicating 
 that the fleeing man escaped alive from the 
 wreck of his boat, and that he made a safe 
 landing in the fog on the treacherous rocks at 
 the foot of the bluff crowned by the guns. 
 The first of these was suggested by the gunner 
 who fired the piece that day, two or three 
 hours after the destruction of the fleeing man's 
 boat ; and even that would have received no 
 19 289
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 attention under ordinary circumstances, and, 
 in fadl, did receive none at all until long 
 afterwards, when Rabaya reported that he had 
 been visited by Freeman, who told him of the 
 two other strange circumstances. The gunner 
 related that when he fired the cannon that day 
 he discovered that it recoiled in a most unac- 
 countable manner, as though it had been loaded 
 with something in addition to a blank car- 
 tridge. But he had loaded the gun himself, 
 and was positive that he had placed no shot in 
 the barrel. At that time he was utterly unable 
 to account for the recoil. 
 
 The second strange occurrence came to my 
 knowledge through Rabaya. Freeman told 
 him that as he was towing out to sea that 
 afternoon he encountered a heavy fog imme- 
 diately after turning from the bay into the 
 channel. The tow-boat had to proceed very 
 slowly. When his vessel had arrived at a 
 point opposite Black Point he heard the sunset 
 gun, and immediately afterwards strange parti- 
 cles began to fall upon the barkentine, which 
 was exadlly in the vertical plane of the gun's 
 range. He had sailed many waters and had 
 seen many kinds of showers, but this was 
 different from all others. Fragments of a 
 sticky substance fell all over the deck, and 
 290
 
 THE FAITHFUL AMULET 
 
 clung to the sails and spars where they touched 
 them. They seemed to be finely shredded 
 flesh, mixed with particles of shattered bone, 
 with a strip of cloth here and there ; and the 
 particles that looked like flesh were of a black- 
 ish red and smelled of powder. The visitation 
 gave the skipper and his crew a " creepy" 
 sensation, and awed them somewhat in short, 
 they were depressed by the strange circum- 
 stance to such an extent that Captain Freeman 
 had to employ stern measures to keep down a 
 mutiny, so fearful were the men of going to 
 sea under that terrible omen. 
 
 The third circumstance is equally singular. 
 As Freeman was pacing the deck and talking 
 reassuringly to his crew his foot struck a 
 small, grimy, metallic objeft lying on the deck. 
 He picked it up and discovered that it, too, 
 bore the odor of burned powder. When he 
 had cleaned it he was amazed to discover that 
 it was the amulet which he had bought that 
 very day from Rabaya. He could not believe 
 it was the same until he had made a search and 
 found that it had been stolen from his pocket. 
 
 It needs only to be added that the Flying 
 Devil was never seen afterwards. 
 
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