The Sorrows of Satan: or, The Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire: A Romance — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Sorrows of Satan: or, The Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire: A Romance
John Stuart Mill · en
"But in any case," I said aloud, addressing myself to the empty room and
the storm-echoes--"I will not meet him to-night. I'll go out and leave
no message,--and if he comes he will think I have not yet had his
letter. I can make an appointment to see him when I am better lodged,
and dressed more in keeping with my present position,--in the meantime,
nothing is easier than to keep out of this would-be benefactor's way."
As I spoke, the flickering lamp gave a dismal crackle and went out,
leaving me in pitch darkness. With an exclamation more strong than
reverent, I groped about the room for matches, or failing them, for my
hat and coat,--and I was still engaged in a fruitless and annoying
search, when I caught a sound of galloping horses' hoofs coming to an
abrupt stop in the street below. Surrounded by black gloom, I paused and
listened. There was a slight commotion in the basement,--I heard my
landlady's accents attuned to nervous civility, mingling with the
mellow tones of a deep masculine voice,--then steps, firm and even,
ascended the stairs to my landing.
"The devil is in it!" I muttered vexedly--"Just like my wayward
luck!--here comes the very man I meant to avoid!"
III
The door opened,--and from the dense obscurity enshrouding me I could
just perceive a tall shadowy figure standing on the threshold. I
remember well the curious impression the mere outline of this scarcely
discerned Form made upon me even then,--suggesting at the first glance
such a stately majesty of height and bearing as at once riveted my
attention,--so much so indeed that I scarcely heard my landlady's
introductory words "A gentleman to see you sir,"--words that were
quickly interrupted by a murmur of dismay at finding the room in total
darkness. "Well to be sure! The lamp must have gone out!" she
exclaimed,--then addressing the personage she had ushered thus far, she
added--"I'm afraid Mr Tempest isn't in after all, sir, though I
certainly saw him about half-an-hour ago. If you don't mind waiting here
a minute I'll fetch a light and see if he has left any message on his
table."
She hurried away, and though I knew that of course I ought to speak, a
singular and quite inexplicable perversity of humour kept me silent and
unwilling to declare my presence. Meanwhile the tall stranger advanced a
pace or two, and a rich voice with a ring of ironical amusement in it
called me by my name--
"Geoffrey Tempest, are you there?"
Why could I not answer? The strangest and most unnatural obstinacy
stiffened my tongue,--and, concealed in the gloom of my forlorn literary
den I still held my peace. The majestic figure drew nearer, till in
height and breadth it seemed to suddenly overshadow me; and once again
the voice called--
"Geoffrey Tempest, are you there?"
For very shame's sake I could hold out no longer,--and with a determined
effort I broke the extraordinary dumb spell that had held me like a
coward in silent hiding, and came forward boldly to confront my visitor.