CHAPTER XVI
ATHERTON'S MAGIC VAPOUR
I bore him off to supper at the Helicon. All the way in the cab he wastrying to tell me the story of how he proposed to Marjorie,--and he wasvery far from being through with it when we reached the club. There wasthe usual crowd of supperites, but we got a little table to ourselves,in a corner of the room, and before anything was brought for us to eathe was at it again. A good many of the people were pretty near toshouting, and as they seemed to be all speaking at once, and the bandwas playing, and as the Helicon supper band is not piano, Percy did nothave it quite all to himself, but, considering the delicacy of hissubject, he talked as loudly as was decent,--getting more so as he wenton. But Percy is peculiar.
'I don't know how many times I've tried to tell her,--over and overagain.'
'Have you now?'
'Yes, pretty near every time I met her,--but I never seemed to getquite to it, don't you know.'
'How was that?'
'Why, just as I was going to say, "Miss Lindon, may I offer you thegift of my affection---"'
'Was that how you invariably intended to begin?'
'Well, not always--one time like that, another time another way. Factis, I got off a little speech by heart, but I never got a chance toreel it off, so I made up my mind to just say anything.'
'And what did you say?'
'Well, nothing,--you see, I never got there. Just as I was feeling myway, she'd ask me if I preferred big sleeves to little ones, or tophats to billycocks, or some nonsense of the kind.'
'Would she now?'
'Yes,--of course I had to answer, and by the time I'd answered thechance was lost.' Percy was polishing his eye-glass. 'I tried to getthere so many times, and she choked me off so often, that I can't helpthinking that she suspected what it was that I was after.'
'You think she did?'
'She must have done. Once I followed her down Piccadilly, and chiviedher into a glove shop in the Burlington Arcade. I meant to propose toher in there,--I hadn't had a wink of sleep all night through dreamingof her, and I was just about desperate.'
'And did you propose?'
'The girl behind the counter made me buy a dozen pairs of glovesinstead. They turned out to be three sizes too large for me when theycame home. I believe she thought I'd gone to spoon the glove girl,--shewent out and left me there. That girl loaded me with all sorts ofthings when she was gone,--I couldn't get away. She held me with herblessed eye. I believe it was a glass one.'
'Miss Linden's--or the glove girl's?'
'The glove girl's. She sent me home a whole cartload of green ties, anddeclared I'd ordered them. I shall never forget that day. I've neverbeen up the Arcade since, and never mean to.'
'You gave Miss Lindon a wrong impression.'
'I don't know. I was always giving her wrong impressions. Once she saidthat she knew I was not a marrying man, that I was the sort of chap whonever would marry, because she saw it in my face.'
'Under the circumstances, that was trying.'
'Bitter hard.' Percy sighed again. 'I shouldn't mind if I wasn't sogone. I'm not a fellow who does get gone, but when I do get gone, I getso beastly gone.'
'I tell you what, Percy,--have a drink!'
'I'm a teetotaler,--you know I am.'
'You talk of your heart being broken, and of your being a teetotaler inthe same breath,--if your heart were really broken you'd throwteetotalism to the winds.'
'Do you think so,--why?'
'Because you would,--men whose hearts are broken always do,--you'dswallow a magnum at the least.'
Percy groaned.
'When I drink I'm always ill,--but I'll have a try.'
He had a try,--making a good beginning by emptying at a draught theglass which the waiter had just now filled. Then he relapsed intomelancholy.
'Tell me, Percy,--honest Indian!--do you really love her?'
'Love her?' His eyes grew round as saucers. 'Don't I tell you that Ilove her?'
'I know you tell me, but that sort of thing is easy telling. What doesit make you feel like, this love you talk so much about?'
'Feel like?--Just anyhow,--and nohow. You should look inside me, andthen you'd know.'
'I see.--It's like that, is it?--Suppose she loved another man, whatsort of feeling would you feel towards him?'
'Does she love another man?'
'I say, suppose.'
'I dare say she does. I expect that's it.--What an idiot I am not tohave thought of that before.' He sighed,--and refilled his glass. 'He'sa lucky chap, whoever he is. I'd--I'd like to tell him so.'
'You'd like to tell him so?'
'He's such a jolly lucky chap, you know.'
'Possibly,--but his jolly good luck is your jolly bad luck. Would yoube willing to resign her to him without a word?'
'If she loves him.'
'But you say you love her.'
'Of course I do.'
'Well then?'
'You don't suppose that, because I love her, I shouldn't like to seeher happy?--I'm not such a beast!--I'd sooner see her happy thananything else in all the world.'
'I see,--Even happy with another?--I'm afraid that my philosophy is notlike yours. If I loved Miss Lindon, and she loved, say, Jones, I'mafraid I shouldn't feel like that towards Jones at all.'
'What would you feel like?'
'Murder.--Percy, you come home with me,--we've begun the nighttogether, let's end it together,--and I'll show you one of the finestnotions for committing murder on a scale of real magnificence you everdreamed of. I should like to make use of it to show my feelings towardsthe supposititious Jones,--he'd know what I felt for him when once hehad been introduced to it.'
Percy went with me without a word. He had not had much to drink, but ithad been too much for him, and he was in a condition of maunderingsentimentality. I got him into a cab. We dashed along Piccadilly.
He was silent, and sat looking in front of him with an air of vacuoussullenness which ill-became his cast of countenance. I bade the cabmanpass though Lowndes Square. As we passed the Apostle's I pulled him up.I pointed out the place to Woodville.
'You see, Percy, that's Lessingham's house!--that's the house of theman who went away with Marjorie!'
'Yes.' Words came from him slowly, with a quite unnecessary stress oneach. 'Because he made a speech.--I'd like to make a speech.--One dayI'll make a speech.'
'Because he made a speech,--only that, and nothing more! When a manspeaks with an Apostle's tongue, he can witch any woman in theland.--Hallo, who's that?--Lessingham, is that you?'
I saw, or thought I saw, someone, or something, glide up the steps, andwithdraw into the shadow of the doorway, as if unwilling to be seen.When I hailed no one answered. I called again.
'Don't be shy, my friend!'
I sprang out of the cab, ran across the pavement, and up the steps. Tomy surprise, there was no one in the doorway. It seemed incredible, butthe place was empty. I felt about me with my hands, as if I had beenplaying at blind man's buff, and grasped at vacancy. I came down a stepor two.
'Ostensibly, there's a vacuum,--which nature abhors.--I say, driver,didn't you see someone come up the steps?'
'I thought I did, sir,--I could have sworn I did.'
'So could I.--It's very odd.'
'Perhaps whoever it was has gone into the 'ouse, sir.'
'I don't see how. We should have heard the door open, if we hadn't seenit,--and we should have seen it, it's not so dark as that.--I've half amind to ring the bell and inquire.'
'I shouldn't do that if I was you, sir,--you jump in, and I'll getalong. This is Mr Lessingham's,--the great Mr Lessingham's.'
I believe the cabman thought that I was drunk,--and not respectableenough to claim acquaintance with the great Mr Lessingham.
'Wake up, Woodville! Do you know I believe there's some mystery aboutthis place,--I feel assured of it. I feel as if I were in the presenceof something uncanny,--something which I can neither see, nor touch,nor hear.'
/> The cabman bent down from his seat, wheedling me.
'Jump in, sir, and we'll be getting along.'
I jumped in, and we got along,--but not far. Before we had gone a dozenyards, I was out again, without troubling the driver to stop. He pulledup, aggrieved.
'Well, sir, what's the matter now? You'll be damaging yourself beforeyou've done, and then you'll be blaming me.'
I had caught sight of a cat crouching in the shadow of the railings,--ablack one. That cat was my quarry. Either the creature was unusuallysleepy, or slow, or stupid, or it had lost its wits--which a cat seldomdoes lose!--anyhow, without making an attempt to escape it allowed meto grab it by the nape of the neck.
So soon as we were inside my laboratory, I put the cat into my glassbox. Percy stared.
'What have you put it there for?'
'That, my dear Percy, is what you are shortly about to see. You areabout to be the witness of an experiment which, to a legislator--suchas you are!--ought to be of the greatest possible interest. I am goingto demonstrate, on a small scale, the action of the force which, on alarge scale, I propose to employ on behalf of my native land.'
He showed no signs of being interested. Sinking into a chair, herecommenced his wearisome reiteration.
'I hate cats!--Do let it go!--I'm always miserable when there's a catin the room.'
'Nonsense,--that's your fancy! What you want's a taste ofwhisky--you'll be as chirpy as a cricket.'
'I don't want anything more to drink!--I've had too much already!'
I paid no heed to what he said. I poured two stiff doses into a coupleof tumblers. Without seeming to be aware of what it was that he wasdoing he disposed of the better half of the one I gave him at adraught. Putting his glass upon the table, he dropped his head upon hishands, and groaned.
'What would Marjorie think of me if she saw me now?'
'Think?--nothing. Why should she think of a man like you, when she hasso much better fish to fry?'
'I'm feeling frightfully ill!--I'll be drunk before I've done!'
'Then be drunk!--only, for gracious sake, be lively drunk, not deadlydoleful.--Cheer up, Percy!' I clapped him on the shoulder,--almostknocking him off his seat on to the floor. 'I am now going to show youthat little experiment of which I was speaking!--You see that cat?'
'Of course I see it!--the beast!--I wish you'd let it go!'
'Why should I let it go?--Do you know whose cat that is? That cat'sPaul Lessingham's.'
'Paul Lessingham's?'
'Yes, Paul Lessingham's,--the man who made the speech,--the man whomMarjorie went away with.'
'How do you know it's his?'
'I don't know it is, but I believe it is,--I choose to believe itis!--I intend to believe it is!--It was outside his house, thereforeit's his cat,--that's how I argue. I can't get Lessingham inside thatbox, so I get his cat instead.'
'Whatever for?'
'You shall see.--You observe how happy it is?'
'It don't seem happy.'
'We've all our ways of seeming happy,--that's its way,'
The creature was behaving like a cat gone mad, dashing itself againstthe sides of its glass prison, leaping to and fro, and from side toside, squealing with rage, or with terror, or with both. Perhaps itforesaw what was coming,--there is no fathoming the intelligence ofwhat we call the lower animals.
'It's a funny way.'
'We some of us have funny ways, beside cats. Now, attention! Observethis little toy,--you've seen something of its kind before. It's aspring gun; you pull the spring-drop the charge into thebarrel--release the spring--and the charge is fired. I'll unlock thissafe, which is built into the wall. It's a letter lock, the combinationjust now, is "whisky,"--you see, that's a hint to you. You'll noticethe safe is strongly made,--it's air-tight, fire-proof, the outercasing is of triple-plated drill-proof steel,--the contents arevaluable--to me!--and devilish dangerous,--I'd pity the thief who, inhis innocent ignorance, broke in to steal. Look inside--you see it'sfull of balls,--glass balls, each in its own little separate nest;light as feathers; transparent,--you can see right through them. Hereare a couple, like tiny pills. They contain neither dynamite, norcordite, nor anything of the kind, yet, given a fair field and nofavour, they'll work more mischief than all the explosives man hasfashioned. Take hold of one--you say your heart is broken!--squeezethis under your nose--it wants but a gentle pressure--and in less timethan no time you'll be in the land where they say there are no brokenhearts.'
He shrunk back.
'I don't know what you're talking about.--I don't want the thing.--Takeit away.'
'Think twice,--the chance may not recur.'
'I tell you I don't want it.'
'Sure?--Consider!'
'Of course I'm sure!'
'Then the cat shall have it.'
'Let the poor brute go!'
'The poor brute's going,--to the land which is so near, and yet so far.Once more, if you please, attention. Notice what I do with this toygun. I pull back the spring; I insert this small glass pellet; I thrustthe muzzle of the gun through the opening in the glass box whichcontains the Apostle's cat,--you'll observe it fits quite close, which,on the whole, is perhaps as well for us.--I am about to release thespring.--Close attention, please.--Notice the effect.'
'Atherton, let the brute go!'
'The brute's gone! I've released the spring--the pellet has beendischarged--it has struck against the roof of the glass box--it hasbeen broken by the contact,--and, hey presto! the cat lies dead,--andthat in face of its nine lives. You perceive how still it is,--howstill! Let's hope that, now, it's really happy. The cat which I chooseto believe is Paul Lessingham's has received its quietus; in themorning I'll send it back to him, with my respectful compliments. He'llmiss it if I don't.--Reflect! think of a huge bomb, filled with whatwe'll call Atherton's Magic Vapour, fired, say, from a hundred andtwenty ton gun, bursting at a given elevation over the heads of anopposing force. Properly managed, in less than an instant of time, ahundred thousand men,--quite possibly more!--would drop down dead, asif smitten by the lightning of the skies. Isn't that something like aweapon, sir?'
'I'm not well!--I want to get away!--I wish I'd never come!'
That was all Woodville had to say.
'Rubbish!--You're adding to your stock of information every second,and, in these days, when a member of Parliament is supposed to know allabout everything, information's the one thing wanted. Empty your glass,man,--that's the time of day for you!'
I handed him his tumbler. He drained what was left of its contents,then, in a fit of tipsy, childish temper he flung the tumbler from him.I had placed--carelessly enough--the second pellet within a foot of theedge of the table. The shock of the heavy beaker striking the boardclose to it, set it rolling. I was at the other side. I started forwardto stop its motion, but I was too late. Before I could reach thecrystal globule, it had fallen off the edge of the table on to thefloor at Woodville's feet, and smashed in falling. As it smashed, hewas looking down, wondering, no doubt, in his stupidity, what thepother was about,--for I was shouting, and making something of aclatter in my efforts to prevent the catastrophe which I saw wascoming. On the instant, as the vapour secreted in the broken pelletgained access to the air, he fell forward on to his face. Rushing tohim, I snatched his senseless body from the ground, and dragged it,staggeringly, towards the door which opened on to the yard. Flingingthe door open, I got him into the open air.
As I did so, I found myself confronted by someone who stood outside. Itwas Lessingham's mysterious Egypto-Arabian friend,--my morning'svisitor.
The Beetle: A Mystery Page 16
