Toppleton's Client; Or, A Spirit in Exile

by John Kendrick Bangs

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE WEARY SPIRIT GIVES SOME ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.

  HOW long Hopkins would have remained in an unconscious state had not acold perspiration sprung forth from his forehead, and, trickling overhis temples, brought him to his senses, I cannot say. Suffice it torelate that his stupor lasted hardly more than a minute. When he openedhis eyes and gazed over toward the haunted vase, he saw there the samedepressing nothingness accompanied by the same soul-chilling sighs thathad so discomfited him. To the ear there was something there, asomething quite as perceptible to the auricular sense as if it were aliving, tangible creature, but as imperceptible to the eye as that whichhas never existed. The presence, or whatever else it was that hadentered into Toppleton's life so unceremoniously, was apparently muchaffected by the searching gaze which its victim directed toward it.

  "Don't look at me that way, I beg of you, Mr. Toppleton," said thespirit after it had sighed a half dozen times and given an occasionalnervous whistle. "I don't deserve all that your glance implies, and ifyou could only understand me, I think you would sympathize with me in mytrials."

  "I? I sympathize with you? Well, I like that," cried Toppleton, raisinghimself on his elbow and staring blankly at the vase. "It appears to methat I am the object of sympathy this time. What the deuce are you,anyhow? How am I to understand you, when you sit around like a maudlinvoid lost in a vacuum? Are you an apparition or what?"

  "I am neither an apparition nor a what," returned the spirit. "Icouldn't be an apparition without appearing. I suppose you might call mea limited perception; that is, I can be perceived but not seen, althoughI am human."

  "You must be a sort of cross between a rumour and a small boy, Isuppose; is that it?" queried Toppleton, with a touch of sarcasm in histone.

  "If you mean that I am half-way between things which should be seen andnot heard, and other things which should be heard and not seen, I fancyyour surmise approximates correctness. For my part, a love ofconciseness leads me to set myself down as a Presence," was thespirit's answer.

  "I'll give you a liberal reward," retorted Toppleton, eagerly, "ifyou'll place yourself in the category of an Absence as regards me and myoffice here; for, to tell you the truth, I am addicted more or less toheart disease, and I can't say I care to risk an association with avocally inclined zero, such as you seem to be. What's your price?"

  "You wrong me, Toppleton," returned the Presence, indignantly, floatingfrom the edge of the vase over to the large rocking chair in the cornerby the window, which began at once to sway to and fro, to theundisguised wonderment of its owner. "I am not a blackmailer, as youmight see at once if you could look into my face."

  "Where do you keep your face?" asked Hopkins, sitting up and embracinghis knees. "If you have brought it along with you for heaven's sake trotit out. I can't ruin my eyes on you as you are now. Have you no officehours, say from ten to two, when you may be seen by those desirous offeasting their eyes upon your tangibility?"

  "I am afraid you are joking, Hopkins," said the spirit, growingfamiliar. "If you are, I beg that you will stop. What is a good joke tosome eyes is a very serious matter to others."

  "That, my dear Presence," returned Toppleton, "is a very trueobservation, as is borne out by the large percentage of serious matterthat appears in comic journals."

  "Please do not be flippant," said the voice from the rocking-chair,sadly. "I have come to you as a suppliant for assistance. The fact thatI have come without my body is against me, I know, but that is acircumstance over which I have absolutely no control. My body has beenstolen from me, and I am at present a shapeless wanderer with nowhere tolay my head, and no head to lay there, if perchance the world held somecorner that I might call my own."

  "I can't see what you have to complain about on that score," saidToppleton, rising from the floor and seizing a large magnifying glassfrom his table and gazing searchingly through it into the chair whichstill rocked violently. "An individual like yourself, if you are anindividual, ought to be able to find comfort anywhere. The avidity withwhich you have seized upon that chair, and the extraordinary vitalityyou seem to have imparted to its rockers, indicate to my mind that theworld has about everything for you that any reasonable being candesire. If you can percolate into my apartment and make use of theluxuries I had fondly hoped were exclusively mine, I can't see what isto prevent your settling down at Windsor Castle if you will. Aren'tthere any comfortable chairs and beds there?"

  "I don't know whether there are or not," replied the Presence. "I neverwent there, and being a loyal British Presence, I should hesitate verystrongly before I would discommode the Royal family."

  "It might be awkward, I suppose," returned Toppleton with a laugh, "ifyou should happen to fall asleep in the Prince of Wales' favouritearm-chair, and he should happen to come in and sit on you, for I presumeyou are no more visible to Royalty than you are to Republican simplicityas embodied in myself. Still, as a loyal British subject, I should thinkyou'd rather be sat on by the Prince than by a common mortal."

  As Hopkins spoke these words the chair stopped rocking, and if itsattitude meant anything, its invisible occupant was leaning forward andstaring with pained astonishment at the young lawyer, who was leaninggracefully against the mantelpiece. Then on a sudden the chair'sattitude was relaxed and it rocked slowly backward again, resuming itsformer pace. A few minutes passed without a word being spoken, at theend of which time the spirit sighed deeply.

  "Is there anything in this world," it asked, "is there anything toosacred for you Americans to joke about? Have you no ideals, no--"

  "Plenty of ideals but no special idols," returned Hopkins, perceivingthe spirit's drift. "But of course, if I hurt your feelings by jokingabout the Prince, I apologize. Though unasked, you are still my guest,and I should be very sorry to seem lacking in courtesy. But tell meabout this body of yours. How did you come to lose it, and is it stillliving?"

  "Yes, it is still living," replied the spirit. "Living a life ofhonoured ease."

  "But how the deuce did you come to lose it? that's what I can'tunderstand. I have heard of men losing pretty nearly everything buttheir bodies."

  "As I have already told you," said the spirit, wearily, "it was stolenfrom me."

  "And have you no clue to the thieves? Do you know where it is?"

  "Yes, I know where it is. In fact I saw it only last week," replied thespirit with a sob, "and it's getting old, Toppleton, very old. When itwas taken away from me it was erect of stature, broad-shouldered,muscular and full of health. To-day it is round-shouldered, flabby andgenerally consumptive-looking. When I occupied it, the face wasclean-shaven and ruddy. The hair was of a rich auburn, the hands milkwhite. The carriage was graceful, and about my lips there played a smilethat fascinated. The blue eyes sparkled, the teeth shone out between mylips when I smiled, like a strip of chased silver in the sunlight; Itell you, Toppleton, when I had that body it had some style about it;but now--it breaks my heart to think of it now!"

  "It hasn't lost its good looks altogether, has it?" queried Hopkins, hisvoice slightly tremulous with the sympathy he was beginning to feel forthis disembodied entity before him.

  "It has," sobbed the spirit; "and I'm not surprised that it has,considering the life it has led since I lost it. The auburn hair thatused to be my mother's pride, and my schoolmates' source of wit, hasgradually dropped away and left a hairless scalp of an insignificantpinkish hue which would disgrace a shrimp. My once happy smile hassubsided into something like a toothless sneer; for my dazzling teethare no more. The blue eyes are expressionless, the elastic step ishalting, and, what is worse, the present occupant of my physical selfhas grown a beard that makes me look like a pirate."

  "I wonder you recognized yourself," said Hopkins.

  "It was strange; but I did recognize myself by my ring which I stillwear," returned the spirit. "But, Toppleton," it added, "you have nonotion how terrible it is for a man to see himself growing old andbreaking away from all the habits and princi
ples of youth, powerless tointerfere. For instance, my body was temperate when I was in it. I neverdrank more than one glass of whiskey in one day. Now it is brandy andwater all day long, and it galls me, like the merry hereafter, with mytemperance scruples, to see myself given over to intemperate drams. _I_never used profane language. Last Friday I heard my own lips condemn apoor unoffending fly to everlasting punishment. But I want to tell youhow this outrageous thing came to pass. I want to tell you how it wasthat in the very bud of my existence I was robbed of a suitable case inwhich to go through life, and I want you, with your extraordinaryknowledge of the law, as I understand it to be, to devise some schemefor my relief. If you don't, nobody will, and before many years it willbe too late. The body is growing weaker every day. I can see that, and Iwant to get it back again before it becomes absolutely valueless. Ibelieve that under my care, restored to its original owner, it can befixed up and made quite respectable for its declining years. Of coursethe teeth and the hair are gone for ever, but I think I can furbish upthe smile, the eye and the hands. I know that I can restore my formergood habits."

  "I'm hanged if I see how I can help you," rejoined Hopkins. "Do you meanto say that the present occupant of your personality is the creature whorobbed you of it?"

  "Precisely," said the spirit. "He's the very same person, and, starsabove us, how he has abused the premises! He has made my name famous--"

  "You don't mean to say that he took your name too?" put in Hopkinsincredulously.

  "I mean just that," retorted the spirit. "He stole my name, my body, myprospects, my clothing--every blessed thing I had except myconsciousness, and he thrust that out into a cold, unsympathetic world,to float around in invisible nebulousness for thirty long years. Oh, itis an awful tale of villainy, Toppleton! Awful!"

  "You say he has made your name famous," said Toppleton. "You give himcredit for that, don't you?"

  "I would if the very fame accorded my name did not tend to make meinfamous in the eyes of those I hold most dear; and the beastly part ofit is that I can't explain the situation to them."

  "Why not?" asked Hopkins. "If you can lay all this misery bare to me,why can't you lay it before those for whose good will and admiration youare lamenting?"

  "Because, Hopkins, they never address me, and it is my hard fate not tobe able to open a conversation," returned the spirit. "If you willremember, it was not until you asked me who the devil I was, or someequally choice question of like import, that I began to hold conversewith you; you are the only man with whom I have talked for thirty years,Hopkins, because you are the only person who has taken the initiative."

  "Well, you goaded me into it," returned Hopkins. "So I can't see why youcan't goad your friends of longer standing into it."

  "The explanation is simple," replied the spirit. "My friends haven't hadthe courage to withstand the terrors of the situation. The minute I havewhistled, sighed or laughed, they have made a bee line for the door, andraised such a hullabaloo about the 'supernatural visitation,' as theytermed my efforts, that I couldn't do a thing with them. They'veeveryone of them, from my respected mother down, avoided me, even asthat man Stubbs has avoided me. I believe you too would have fled if thedoor hadn't locked automatically, and so forced you to remain here."

  "If I could have avoided this interview I should most certainly havedone so," said Toppleton, candidly. "You can probably guess yourself howvery unpleasant it is to be disturbed in your work by a whistle thatemanates from some unseen lips, and to have your room taken possessionof by an invisible being with a grievance."

  "Yes, Hopkins. I've had almost the same experience myself," replied thespirit; "and to be as candid with you as you have been with me, I willsay that it was just that experience, and nothing else, that isresponsible for my present difficulties."

  "That's encouraging for me," said Hopkins, nervously. "But tell me howhave you become infamously famous?"

  "The bandit who now occupies my being has violated every principle ofreligion and politics that he found in me when he took possession,"returned the spirit, leaving the rocking-chair and settling down on themantelpiece, in front of the clock. "Where I was a pronounced Tory hehas made me vote with the Liberals. Notwithstanding the fact that I wasbrought up in the Church of England, he joined first the dissenters andis now a thorough agnostic, and signs my name to the most outrageousviews on social and moral subjects you ever heard advanced. My familyhave cut loose from me as I am represented by him, and the dearestfriend of my youth never mentions my name save in terms of severestreprehension. Would you like that, Hopkins Toppleton?"

  "I'd be precious far from liking it," Hopkins answered. "It seems to meI'd commit suicide under such circumstances. Have you thought of that?"

  "Often," replied the spirit; "but the question has always been, how?"

  "Take poison! Shoot yourself! Drown yourself!"

  "I can't take poison. That fiend who robbed me has my stomach, so whatcould I put the poison into?" retorted the spirit. "Shoot myself? How? Ihaven't a pistol. If I had a pistol I couldn't fire it, because I'venothing to pull the trigger with. If I had something to pull the triggerwith, what should I fire at? I have no brains to blow out, no heart toshoot at. I'd simply fire into air."

  "How about the third method?" queried Toppleton.

  "Drowning?" asked the unhappy Presence. "That wouldn't work. I'venothing to drown. If I could get under water, I'd bubble right up again,so you see it's useless. Besides, it's only the body that dies, not thespirit. You see the shape I'm left in."

  "No," returned Hopkins, "I perceive the lack of shape you are left in,and I must confess you are in the hardest luck of any person I everknew; but really, my dear sir, I don't see how I can render you anyassistance, so we might as well consider the interview at an end. Nowthat I am better acquainted with you I will say, however, that if itgives you any pleasure to loll around here or to sleep up there in mycloisonne jar with the rose leaves, you are welcome to do so."

  "If you would only hear my story, Hopkins," said the spirit,beseechingly, "you would be so wrought up by its horrible details thatyou would devise some plan for my relief. You would be less than a manif you did not, and I am told that you Americans are great fighters.Take this case for me, won't you?"

  Hopkins hesitated. He was strongly inclined to yield, the cause was soextraordinary, and yet he could not in a moment overcome hisstrongly-cultivated repugnance to burdening himself with a client. Thenhe was conscientious, too. He did not wish to identify the famous houseof Toppleton, Morley, Harkins, Perkins, Mawson, Bronson, Smithers andHicks with a case in which the possibilities of success seemed soremote. On the other hand he could not but reflect that, aside from thepurely humane aspect of the matter, a successful issue would redound tothe everlasting glory of himself and his partners over the sea--that is,it would if anybody could be made to believe in the existence of such acase. He realized that the emergency was one which must be met byhimself alone, because he was thoroughly convinced that the hard-headedpractical men of affairs whom he represented would scarcely credit hisaccount of the occurrences of the last hour, and would set him downeither as having been under the influence of drink or as having lost hissenses. He would not have believed the story himself if some one elsehad told it to him, and he could not expect his partners in New York tobe any more credulous than he would have been.

  His hesitation was short-lived, however, for in a moment it wasdispelled by a sigh from his unseen guest. It was the most heartrendingsigh he had ever heard, and it overcame his scruples.

  "By George!" he said, "I will listen to your story, and I'll help youif I can, only you will unstring my nerves unless you get yourself ashape of some kind or other. It makes my blood run cold to sit here andbandy words with an absolute nonentity."

  "I don't know where I can get a shape," returned the spirit.

  "What did the thief who took your shape do with his old one?" askedHopkins.

  "He'd buried it before I met him," returned the spirit. />
  "Buried it? Oh, Heavens!" cried Hopkins, seizing his hat. "Let's get outof this and take a little fresh air; if we don't, I'll go mad. Come," headded, addressing the spirit, "we'll run over to the Lowther Arcade andbuy a form. If we can't find anything better we'll get a wooden Indianor a French doll, or anything having human semblance so that you canclimb into it and lessen the infernal uncanniness of yourdisembodiment."

  Hopkins rang the janitor's bell again, and when that worthy appeared hehad him unfasten the door from the outside; then he and the spiritstarted out in search of an embodiment for the exiled soul.

  "Hi thinks as 'ow 'e must be craizy," said the janitor, as Toppletondisappeared around the corner in animated conversation with hisinvisible client. "E's' talkin' away like hall possessed, hand nobody ashi can see within hearshot. These Hamericans is nothink much has far as'ead goes."

  As for Toppleton and the Presence, they found in the Lowther Arcade justwhat they wanted--an Aunt Sallie with a hollow head, into which thespirit was able to enter, and from which it told its tale of woe,sitting, bodily and visibly, in the rocking-chair, before the eyes ofHopkins Toppleton, the words falling fluently from the open lips of thedusky incubus the spirit had put on.

  "It was odd, but not too infernally weird," said Hopkins afterwards,"and I was able to listen without losing my equanimity, to one of themeanest tales of robbery I ever heard."