She led the way to the fire, and at first did not notice that he was
not following her. When she turned round she saw the old gentleman,
with his air of antique politeness completely vanished, standing and
looking about him with a very peculiar expression. She also noticed,
to her annoyance, that the cabinet was already in place in the little
ante-room and that his eyes almost immediately rested upon it. Yet
there was no look of wonder in his face; rather it was such a look
as a man might have on visiting the scene of a well-known
crime--interest, knowledge, and loathing.
"So it is here--" he said in quite a low voice.
Then he came across the room towards her.
II
For an instant his bearded face looked so strangely at her that she
half moved towards the bell. Then he smiled, with a little reassuring
gesture.
"No, no," he said. "May I sit down a moment?"
She began hastily to cover her confusion.
"It is a meeting," she said, "for this evening. I am sorry--"
"Just so," he said. "It is about that that I have come."
"I beg your pardon...?"
"Please sit down, Lady Laura.... May I say in a sentence what I have
come to say?"
This seemed a very odd old man.
"Why, yes--" she said.
"I have come to beg you not to allow Mr. Baxter to enter the
house.... No, I have no authority from anyone, least of all from Mr.
Baxter. He has no idea that I have come. He would think it an
unwarrantable piece of impertinence."
"Mr. Cathcart ... I--I cannot--"
"Allow me," he said, with a little compelling gesture that silenced
her. "I have been asked to interfere by a couple of people very much
interested in Mr. Baxter; one of them, if not both, completely
disbelieves in spiritualism."
"Then you know--"
He waved his hand towards the cabinet.
"Of course I know," he said. "Why, I was a spiritualist for ten years
myself. No, not a medium; not a professional, that is to say. I know
all about Mr. Vincent; all about Mrs. Stapleton and yourself, Lady
Laura. I still follow the news closely; I know perfectly well--"
"And you have given it up?"
"I have given it up for a long while," he said quietly. "And I have
come to ask you to forbid Mr. Baxter to be present this evening,
for--for the same reason for which I have given it up myself."
"Yes? And that--"
"I don't think we need go into that," he said. "It is enough, is it
not, for me to say that Mr. Baxter's work, and, in fact, his whole
nervous system, is suffering considerably from the excitement; that
one of the persons who have asked me to do what I can is Mr. Baxter's
own law-coach: and that even if he had not asked me, Mr. Baxter's own
appearance--"
"You know him?"
"Practically, no. I lunched at the same table with him on Friday; the
symptoms are quite unmistakable."
"I don't understand. Symptoms?"
"Well, we will say symptoms of nervous excitement. You are aware, no
doubt, that he is exceptionally sensitive. Probably you have seen for
yourself--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account