The new terror
in the distance, or rather I half-saw it. It was the sort of rotunda
which, in the light of day or the twilight, would resemble a red-gold
arbor fashioned by the miracle of autumn on the bank of the murmuring
stream.
With infinite caution I drew nearer. I stole through the grass and
sprigs like a Red Indian on the war path. I no longer felt the sting of
thorns. I held my breath.
And all this—all this—in order to take by surprise, two minds which
had made an appointment to meet in a clearing!
I cannot say if the reader realizes the enormity of my proceedings.
For my part, I performed these actions in a manner at once entirely
unconscious and yet entirely natural. It must be understood from this
that I did not apply my reason, but yielded to a spontaneous impulse
which flung me in the wake of Cordélia’s runaway mind; and while I
experienced the influence of Dr. Thurel’s fantastic though scientific
explanations, I acted altogether like an ordinary, deceived husband,
bent on avoiding the least imprudence which might warn the culprits and
prevent me from obtaining the proof of my misfortune.
In what shape would the proof become manifest? I certainly could not
tell, nor did I even ask myself the question, but I so little doubted
that I was about to learn the truth through one of those psychic
phenomena with which Dr. Thurel had crammed my brain, that when at last
I stealthily made my way on all fours into the bridal-chamber, I was
completely bewildered to behold merely an empty space; that is to say
an atmosphere as pure and clear as crystal, pierced by the brilliant
rays of the moon which had transformed the chamber all in gold into a
chamber all in silver!
It was none the less beautiful, but truth to tell, the scene and
the charm of this sylvan bower were just then the least of my
preoccupations. An empty space and silence! I rose from my stooping
posture and stood awhile breathing hard before this void.
An empty space and silence! And perhaps _they_ were there. But I was
unable, with the eyes of the flesh, to see them!
I looked about me in sheer amazement. I walked round creeping between
the shadow of the trees like a shadow myself searching for two shadows!
Suddenly I burst out laughing. I felt that I was committing a monstrous
piece of folly.
But then, if I was acting with such sheer lunacy, why did my laughter
break in the middle? Why did it come to a stop all of a sudden in my
parched throat, when a gleam of light and a slight shade quivered above
an old moss-covered stone bench within the arbor? Why did I go towards
the bench, leaning forward with clenched fists? What did I intend to
do with my big fists, the fists of a heavy-weight boxer? Challenge the
light? Knock out a moonbeam? Oh the irony of it all! Why do some people
see while others are blind? I felt that if I could see I should be less
afraid, for now I was afraid.... Well I was afraid of what I was about
to see, for though I could not yet see, I could hear!
CHAPTER XII
THE THIEF
I heard a kind of whisper, a kind of soft whisper. It was still some
distance away, but it indubitably came from a human being who was
drawing nearer, but drawing nearer without making any other sound; and
it was this which filled me with affright.
I expected to hear the twigs and dead leaves crack under the feet of
the persons who were coming, but there was nothing, no sound in the
dead silence of the night but this human murmur which seemed to be
wafted on the air not far from me, and was approaching closer and
closer.
I gave no further thought to the stone bench which I had left. The
voice, soft and clear, was growing more and more distinct, so distinct
that I seemed to hear a few words which sent a shiver through me from
head to foot, and made me draw back and conceal myself in the wood.
I withdrew in haste, in great haste, for the voice was drawing still
nearer. It now seemed borne along by the water, and I turned my head
towards the river. A word, a terrible word—I could distinguish only
this one word—reached my ear from the river. It was the one English
word _love_.
I was standing at no great distance from the bank of the river.
Suddenly I saw the reeds bend and the hearts of innumerable
water-lilies on the silver surface of the water give way to a small
skiff which glided to the bank facing the bridal-chamber.
A man was seated in this light skiff and I at once recognized him by
the curious beating of my heart and his strange sad-looking eyes,
eyes like those of a cat, which seemed to light up his pale face.
I recognized him, too, from other details. He was clad in the same
loose clothes, the same sports jacket open at the neck worn by him on
the evening when I encountered him for the first time. And, he was
bare-headed, as on that evening, and his hair was well brushed back,
disclosing the high white forehead which he had pressed against the
garden gate.
My first impulse was to make a rush at him. I had every reason to
settle my account with him once for all. His presence in my park, on
my property, fully entitled me to take the law into my own hands. It
was the finishing touch to his audacity and his felonious love-making.
It explained quite clearly why my poor dear Cordélia was the victim
of these perverse and uncanny influences. Dr. Thurel’s intervention
had been fruitless, because the instigator of the mischief was near
at hand, prowling round us, prowling round _her_. During the last two
days the scoundrel must have remained hidden in this obscure retreat,
or have left it only to approach Cordélia like a thief; to ensnare,
surprise and recapture her by fixing a gaze upon her which would enable
him to overcome her mind, and carry her away with him to his lair.
Alas! Why did I not that very night make an end of the man who had
burgled Cordélia’s heart? For he was there right enough in flesh and
blood; and Heaven knows that I could have made good use of my fists
despite his great eyes, like the eyes of a mournful cat.
Now this is what happened: He dropped his sculls and stood up in the
skiff, and I was about to throw myself on him when I heard him utter
this sentence in English: “My love I am yours with all my heart,” and
then leaning over the boat he went on: “There is nothing I would not do
for you.”
To whom was he speaking, since he was alone in the skiff?
“Come, come, now,” I said to myself, “You know quite well to whom this
man is speaking these soft words of love and their meaning is obvious.
To whom is he saying ‘My love’? No need to look far. She is seated
beside him. He is leaning over her, whispering in her ear words that
she comprehends as well as you do.... _For she is there_! Cannot you
see her? Cannot you see her? And yet you know that she is seated in the
skiff.”
Well, no, I was unable to see her. In truth I did my utmost to see her,
for I was conscious that he saw her, but I did not possess his vision.
Yet there was no doubt that she was there ... I had only to look at
him. And to listen to him.
He affected an attitude as he drew himself up, and then with his airs
and graces sat down beside her. To me he was grotesque, hideous. I
sincerely pitied Cordélia for having to listen to such an unmitigated
bore. At one moment he was spouting poetry to her. What a comedian!
Suddenly he sat down again, leaned on one side and threw out his arm as
though to place it round her waist. It was more than I could bear. I
resolved to put an end to this grim farce, when a new scene riveted me
to the spot. _I could now see her!_
I must explain what I saw and endeavor to make myself understood. I am
setting down the facts for public information and to relieve my mind,
and also to lay bare the terrible truth. Thus I confine myself to what
I saw, and I do not wish any person to go beyond my own interpretation
of my testimony, nor do I wish any person to stop short of it.
I would urge the reader to be not less courageous than I was in
venturing on this startling voyage into the abyss of psychical research
in which the best hope for the future of mankind lies.
Let this terrifying love story serve at least one purpose. Let the
world learn once for all how mortifying it is to remain a heavy-weight,
hermetically closed in a mass of flesh, when faced by the mind which in
its wanderings is unsubstantial and intangible or at least as elusive
as a handful of water.
The man stood up in the skiff, his head still a little on one side and
his arm round a waist which I was unable to see. For I saw him only
in the skiff; saw him making the gesture of a ladies’ man which had
infuriated me. But though I saw but one person in the skiff, I could
distinguish both of them in the mirror of the water.
In the slight swirl caused by the swing of the boat I discerned in the
moonlight the reflection of the pair of them standing up.
Was it an optical illusion? Was it the result of defective vision? Were
my senses playing me false? At the present time, after having gathered
together and placed in compact form my recollections, I am bound to
say: No it was no optical illusion. I saw. I saw. I saw the reflection
of the skiff in the water, and below it, also in the water, Patrick and
Cordélia leaning against one another.
I am convinced of the fact, for though I turned my eyes, after seeing
the double vision on the water, to the boat, to confirm the reality,
and saw only Patrick alone with his arm thrust out and his head a
little on one side, on the other hand, when I looked again at the water
I beheld the double presentment once more.
I lay stress upon these details because they obviously represent a
phenomenon which unites in a peculiarly interesting manner physical
science with psychic science. I offer it as a subject for investigation
to those men of science who are engaged in their laboratories in
endeavoring to probe the secrets of every aspect of Force.
It would seem that my eyes passed through Cordélia’s aura, as it stood
in the atmosphere, without being in the least aware of it, while,
on the other hand, I could perceive the outlines—somewhat faint,
I confess, but unmistakable for all that—by fixing my gaze on that
part of the water which had taken the picture, just as photographic
negatives were taken of pictures of Katie King during the time that
one of the most renowned scientists of the last century was making his
experiments in psychical phenomena—I mean Professor Sir William Crookes.
It will be readily understood that these interesting scientific
considerations, which I set down here by the way, occurred to my mind
subsequently, and that, at the time, I was much more absorbed in the
phenomenon itself than in attempting to discover an explanation of
it. I was unable, unfortunately, to suppress a cry of fury when I
beheld in the mirror of the river the great thief press a kiss upon
my beloved’s forehead. The picture at once vanished, that is to say,
nothing remained on the surface of the water but Patrick’s reflection.
Cordélia’s silhouette had disappeared, while I heard the villain
exclaim: “Remember! Remember!”
CHAPTER XIII
HAPPINESS CONSISTS IN REALITIES NOT IN DREAMS
When I reached the bank, Patrick and the skiff were hidden from view
behind the reeds which had closed in upon him. A few hundred yards
farther on the river made a bend and left the park. I had no hope of
overtaking my man, and after shouting a few offensive remarks at him,
to which he made no response, I returned to the château as quickly as I
could.
I ran and woke up Surdon telling him that the Englishman was in the
park and ordering him to get his gun out. He grasped the situation at
once.