The Sorrows of Satan: or, The Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire: A RomanceCorelli, Marie
Philosophy
The Sorrows of Satan: or, The Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire: A Romance
Corelli, Marie
Devil -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Great Britain -- Fiction; Millionaires -- Fiction; Religious fiction
He retired, and I moved to bid my host good-night. He took my proffered
hand, and held it in his, looking at me curiously the while.
"I like you, Geoffrey Tempest;" he said--"And because I like you, and
because I think there are the makings of something higher than mere
earthy brute in you, I am going to make you what you may perhaps
consider rather a singular proposition. It is this,--that if you don't
like _me_, say so at once, and we will part now, before we have time to
know anything more of each other, and I will endeavour not to cross your
path again unless you seek me out. But if on the contrary, you do like
me,--if you find something in my humour or turn of mind congenial to
your own disposition, give me your promise that you will be my friend
and comrade for a while, say for a few months at any rate. I can take
you into the best society, and introduce you to the prettiest women in
Europe as well as the most brilliant men. I know them all, and I believe
I can be useful to you. But if there is the smallest aversion to me
lurking in the depths of your nature"--here he paused,--then resumed
with extraordinary solemnity--"in God's name give it full way and let me
go,--because I swear to you in all sober earnest that I am not what I
seem!"
Strongly impressed by his strange look and stranger manner, I hesitated
one moment,--and on that moment, had I but known it, hung my future. It
was true,--I had felt a passing shadow of distrust and repulsion for
this fascinating yet cynical man, and he seemed to have guessed it. But
now every suspicion of him vanished from my mind, and I clasped his hand
with renewed heartiness.
"My dear fellow, your warning comes too late!" I said
mirthfully--"Whatever you are, or whatever you choose to think you are,
I find you most sympathetic to my disposition, and I consider myself
most fortunate in knowing you. My old friend Carrington has indeed done
me a good turn in bringing us together, and I assure you I shall be
proud of your companionship. You seem to take a perverse delight in
running yourself down!--but you know the old adage, 'the devil is not so
black as he is painted'?"
"And that is true!" he murmured dreamily--"Poor devil! His faults are no
doubt much exaggerated by the clergy! And so we are to be friends?"
"I hope so! I shall not be the first to break the compact!"
His dark eyes rested upon me thoughtfully, yet there seemed to be a
lurking smile in them as well.
"Compact is a good word"--he said--"So,--a compact we will consider it.
I meant to improve your material fortunes,--you can dispense with that
aid now; but I think I can still be of service in pushing you on in
society. And love--of course you will fall in love if you have not
already done so,--have you?"
"Not I!" I answered quickly, and with truth--"I have seen no woman yet
who perfectly fulfils my notions of beauty."
He burst out laughing violently.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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