"Let us have an end to this folly," he said; "think a moment, and you
will see that you are in fault. Your error we will rectify easily, and
then to business. I will first show you the futility of trying to escape
this interview, and then we will proceed to work, for time presses, and
there is much to do." Having delivered this remark, he detached a single
silvery hair from his head, blew it from his fingers, and let it float
gently upon the upturned edge of the knife, which was still resting on
the table. The hair was divided as readily as had been the bell-cord. I
was transfixed with astonishment, for he had evidently aimed to exhibit
the quality of the blade, though he made no allusion to the feat, but
smilingly went on with his discourse: "It is just a year ago to-night
since we first met. Upon that occasion you made an agreement with me
which you are in honor bound to keep, and--" here he paused as if to note
the effect of his words upon me, then added significantly--"will keep. I
have been at some pains to impress upon your mind the fact that I
would be here to-night. You responded, and knew that I was coming, and
yet in obedience to a silly whim, deliberately made a meaningless
engagement with no other purpose than to violate a solemn obligation. I
now insist that you keep your prior engagement with me, but I do not
wish that you should be rude to your friend, so you had better write him
a polite note excusing yourself, and dispatch it at once."
I saw that he was right, and that there was no shadow of justification
for my conduct, or at least I was subdued by his presence, so I wrote
the note without delay, and was casting about for some way to send it,
when he said: "Fold it, seal it, and address it; you seem to forget what
is proper." I did as he directed, mechanically, and, without thinking
what I was doing, handed it to him. He took it naturally, glanced at the
superscription, went to the door which he opened slightly, and handed
the billet as if to some messenger who seemed to be in waiting
outside,--then closed and locked the door. Turning toward me with the
apparent object of seeing if I was looking, he deftly drew his knife
twice across the front of the door-knob, making a deep cross, and then
deposited the knife in his pocket, and resumed his seat.[2]
[2] I noted afterward that the door-knob, which was of solid
metal, was cut deeply, as though made of putty.
As soon as he was comfortably seated, he again began the conversation:
"Now that we have settled the preliminaries, I will ask if you remember
what I required of you a year ago?" I thought that I did. "Please repeat
it; I wish to make sure that you do, then we will start fair."
"In the first place, you were to present me with a manuscript--"
"Hardly correct," he interrupted; "I was to acquaint you with a
narrative which is already in manuscript, acquaint you with it, read it
to you, if you preferred not to read it to me--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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