"You think," he continued, "because you have realized some immunity from
the power I wield, that I have left you. I have not, and it is greater
than ever. You have dared to leave London; you have dared to do that
which I told you not; and now I have come to tell you that you have
aroused the anger of a man who laughs at conventional laws, and snaps
his fingers at the ordinary usages of society--one who knows nothing
and cares nothing for your claptrap morality, and will not be influenced
by it."
"I am sorry if I have angered you," I replied humbly.
"Just so, and you will be more than sorry. Man, I hold your life in the
hollow of my hand. One word from me, and your liberty is gone; you will
be dragged through the streets like a common felon."
"Am I guilty of so much, then?" I said. "Did I really kill that man?"
He looked at me curiously, as if he suspected something. "Kill him?" he
replied. "Of course you did. But even if you did not, it is all the
same. Kaffar cannot be found, or proved alive, and thus my power over
you is absolute."
"I wonder you do not use it," I said quietly.
"I do not use it because it does not pay me to do so. My policy is to be
quiet. Miss Forrest is mine because she knows I am master of your life.
The months are swiftly passing away, Mr. Justin Blake. It is May now; in
December I shall take her to my breast."
"But supposing," I said, "that I find Kaffar; supposing before Christmas
Eve comes I prove I am innocent of his death. What then?"
"It is not to be supposed. You killed my friend; and even if you did
not, you could never find him. You dare not, could not, take any
necessary steps. You have not the power to ask other people to do it.
Even now you cannot rise from your seat and walk across the room."
Without a word I rose from my seat and walked across the room; then I
came back and coolly sat down again.
"What does this mean?" he asked angrily.
"It means," I said, "that you are deceived--mistaken. It means that your
villainous schemes are of no effect; that the man whom you thought you
had entrapped by a juggler's trick to be your tool and dupe is as free
as you are; that he defies your power; that he tells you to do your
worst."
I felt that again he was trying to throw me into a kind of trance, that
he was exerting all his power and knowledge; but I resisted, and I was
free. I stood up again and smiled.
Then a strange light lit up his eyes.
"Curse you!" he cried, "you defy me, eh? Well, you'll see what you get
by defying me. In five minutes you will be safe in a policeman's
charge."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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