The Gateless Barrier

by Lucas Malet

  II

  Not until after dinner, on the evening of his arrival, was Laurenceadmitted to his uncle's presence. The aspect of the room was rich thoughsombre. Long in proportion to its width, with a low, heavily-mouldedceiling, the walls of it were panelled in black oak three parts of theirheight. The space between the top of the panelling and the cornice washung with dark blue silk-damask, narrow diagonal lines of yellowcrossing the background of the raised pattern. The short, full curtainsdrawn over the wide window were of the same handsome material. So werethe counterpane and hangings of the half-tester, ebony bed. This lastwas elaborately carved. Two couchant sphinxes, the polished surface ofwhose cup-like breasts glowed in the firelight, supported the footboard,as did a couple of caryatides--naked to the loins--the canopy. Near thefireplace stood an oaken table, on which lay a few well-bound books. Thefurther end of it was covered by a cloth of gold and crimsonembroidery--evidently fashioned from some priestly vestment--upon whichrested a _memento mori_, about four inches in height, cut out of a solidblock of rock crystal, the olive crown which encircled the brow being ofpale, green jade.

  In a deep-seated, high-backed armchair--placed between the table and theoutstanding pillars of the chimney piece--propped up by dark silkenpillows, his spare frame wrapped in a long, fur-lined, violet, clothdressing-gown, a violet, velvet skull-cap on his head, sat Mr. Rivers.

  Laurence, who had not seen his uncle for the last five or six years, wasconscious of receiving an almost painfully vivid impression at once ofphysical feebleness and intellectual energy. The elder man's face andhands appeared transparent as the crystal _memento mori_ on the tablebeside him. His long, straight nose showed thin as a knife. His wide,lip-less mouth seemed to shut with a spring, like a trap. The bone ofthe face and hands was salient, as of one suffering starvation. Yet theblue-grey eyes, though sunk in their cavernous sockets, were brilliant,alert, full of an almost malevolent greed of observation. Laurencenoted that a spotless cleanliness and order pervaded the room and theperson of its occupant. The angular and attenuated face was shaven withscrupulous nicety. The finger-nails were carefully polished and pointed.An open collar and wristbands of fine lawn showed exquisitely whiteagainst the purple cloth and fur of the dressing-gown. It was evidentthat Mr. Rivers, whatever the peculiarities of his temper or of hisopinions, treated illness and approaching dissolution with an admirableeffect of stoicism and personal dignity.

  As Laurence--himself conspicuously well-groomed, in evening dress, nomark of his long journey upon him, save in a complexion tanned by sunand sea-wind, and by the directness of glance and vigour of movementthat remains, for a while, by every true sea-lover after he comesashore--crossed the space between the door and fireplace, the old manraised himself a little in his chair.

  "Believe me, I am very sensible of the consideration you show in soimmediately gratifying my desire to see you, my dear Laurence."

  "I was very happy to come, sir," the younger man answered. But he wasnot unconscious of a point of irony in the cold, level tones of thevoice, or in the persistent scrutiny of the brilliant eyes. Theseappeared to regard him as they might some row of figures--mentallycasting up, subtracting, dividing, intent on arriving, with all possibledespatch, at a conclusive and final result. The effect was not preciselyencouraging, nor were the words which followed.

  "That is well," Mr. Rivers said. "But it is desirable you shouldunderstand from the outset that which you have undertaken. You may bedetained here. The disease from which I suffer is, as you have beeninformed, incurable; though it is, I am happy to say, neither offensiveor infectious. But though the final result is assured, the moment of itsadvent is uncertain. Neither I, nor the physicians who amiably expendtheir limited and somewhat empirical skill upon me, can determine thedate at which this disease will prove fatal. I shall regret to cause youinconvenience, but the event is beyond my control. I may keep youwaiting."

  "The longer the better, sir," Laurence said, smiling, and his smile wassincere and genial, of the sort which inspires confidence.--"That is,"he added, "if you do not suffer unduly."

  "When the mind has realised the greatness of its own powers, and traineditself to their exercise, the will can almost invariably reducesuffering to endurable proportions," Mr. Rivers replied contemptuously,as dealing with a matter obvious, and so beneath discussion. He raisedone transparent hand, pointed towards a chair, and then let his wristdrop again upon a supporting silken cushion. As he did so the two heavyrings he wore--one an amethyst set in brilliants and engraved withArabic characters, the other a black scarab on a hoop of roughgold--slipped up the long phalange of his second finger to the knottedknuckle, and back again, with a dry rattle and chink.

  "Oblige me by sitting down, Laurence," he said. "I wish you to labourunder no misapprehension as to my intentions in sending for you. Acertain amount of business may need attention; but all that you candiscuss with my agent, Armstrong,--a very worthy, though prejudicedperson. My affairs are in order. I am not called upon to waste any ofthe time remaining to me upon them. Let me explain myself. Thedisease--for, to do so, I must refer to it once again--which is inprocess of destroying certain organs, and consequently paralysingcertain functions of my body, has in no degree affected my mind. Thisretains the completeness of its lucidity. Indeed, I am disposed tobelieve that my enforced physical inactivity, and the small number ofobjects presented to my sight--I never leave this room--tend to exaltand stimulate my intellectual powers. You recall the legend of theancient philosopher who plucked out his eyes, that, undisturbed by thevision of irrelevant objects, he might attain to greater concentrationof thought. Disease, in limiting my activities, has gone far to conferupon me the boon which the philosopher in question strove, ratherviolently, to bestow upon himself. I have ever been a student. I proposeto continue so to the last. My interest is unabated. My passion forknowledge--the sole passion of my life--remains in full force."

  Laurence sat listening, nursing his knee. The speaker's attitude wasimpressive, in a way admirable. His detachment, his calm, his acumen,commanded his hearer's respect.

  "Yes, yes. I see--that's fine," Laurence said under his breath.

  A slightly ironical expression passed across the elder man's attenuatedface.

  "I am, of course, glad that my sentiments meet with your approval. But Ifear that approval may prove premature. I have not yet fully explainedmyself."

  Laurence smiled at him good-temperedly. "All right, sir; I'm listening,"he said.

  "I must frankly admit I did not require your presence with a view tohaving you endorse my opinions. These are, I trust, too much the outcomeof close and lengthened thought to stand in need of support from theagreement of another mind. I have never desired disciples, having theevidence of the history of all great religious, political, andscientific movements to prove conclusively that it is the invariablehabit of the disciple to falsify his master's teaching, to attachhimself to the weak rather than the strong places of such teaching, tobetray intellectually with some emotional, some hysterical kiss. Thedisciple resembles those parasitic plants of the tropic forests, thatstrangle the tree upon which they climb upward toward the air andlight."

  He paused a moment, turned his head against the pillows, with a movementof almost distressing weakness. Then, gathering himself together by aperceptible exercise of will, he looked searchingly at Laurence again,and resumed his speech.

  "Nor have I required your presence here during these last days orweeks--as the case may be--with a view to offering to you, or receivingfrom you, that which is usually termed affection. I am not aware of anydemand, or supply, in myself of that very much overrated commodity. Ideny the actuality, indeed, of its existence. Subjected to analysis, itcan always be resolved into workings of self-interest, or into thegratification, more or less gross, of the animal passions. It is thegenerator of all the practical folly and intellectual sloth which go toretard the progress of science, and the rule of high philosophy amongmen. As between ourselves, my dear Laurence, any pretence o
f affectionwould be transparently ridiculous. We are barely acquainted. Mydeparture will very clearly be to your advantage. Moreover, our tastesand characters are so divergent, that any real community of interests,any real bond of sympathy, is clearly out of the question."

  During the course of this address the young man's pleasant smile hadbroadened almost to the point of laughter.

  "I understand, I really do understand," he said. "And now that we'vecleared the decks for action in this very comprehensive manner, Igrow--if I may mention it--most uncommonly curious to learn what you didsend for me here for."

  "I sent for you because there is one matter regarding which myinformation is conspicuously defective, and because your conversation,your habits, your very appearance, and gestures may serve to enlightenme. I have lived among books, and objects of art of no mean value. Ihave enjoyed communion, both by letter and in speech, with many of themost distinguished minds of the present century. But I neverassociated, I have never cared to associate, with the average man of theworld, of the clubs and the racecourse, the man of intrigues, of, inshort, society. He appeared to me to weigh too lightly in the scale tobe a worthy object of study. I ignored him, and in so doing dropped animportant link out of the chain of being. For these persons breed, theyperpetuate tendencies, they influence and modify the history of therace. Not to reckon with such persons, is not to reckon with apersistent and active factor in intellectual and moral evolution."

  Laurence had risen to his feet. He stood with his hands behind him andhis back to the fire. He was amused, but he was also slightly nettled.

  "Ah!" he said, "exactly. And so you sent for me. You took for granted Iwas that sort. You wanted to see how we do it."

  "Yes," Mr. Rivers answered, "it did appear to me that you werecalculated to fulfil the conditions. In any case you were the onlyexample of the type available. Our connection by blood, and the relationin which you stand to my property, gave me certain claims upon yourtime and your consideration. I wish very much to observe you. I wish tostudy you from the psychological and other points of view. You need notattempt to assist me. Be yourself, please. Be passive. I need noco-operation on the part of my subject. This will really give you verylittle trouble, while it will afford me interesting occupation duringthe period--whether short or protracted, I know not--which must elapsebefore disease has run its course and procured dissolution."

  Laurence listened in silence; and while he did so, he ceased to benettled, he ceased even to be inclined to treat these singular proposalshumorously. For there appeared to him a certain pathos in the earnestdesire of this recluse and student now, at the eleventh hour, toacquaint himself with just that which he had so arrogantly despised,namely the Commonplace. It was slightly wounding to personal vanity tobe thus selected, from among the millions of mankind, as a fine,thorough-paced example and exponent of the Commonplace. But Laurence waskind-hearted. He also possessed a fund of practical philosophy.No--decidedly the position was not a flattering one! Yet it was ratheroriginal, and, moreover, how could one in common charity refuse anylittle pleasure to a dying man?

  "Very well, sir," he said. "I think I quite grasp the necessities of theinquiry. I'm quite willing to be operated on, and I promise to play fairand not let the evidence be faked. But I'm afraid you'll get boredfirst. I am likely to be more illuminated than illuminating."

  "I am obliged to you," Mr. Rivers said. "To-night I will not furtherdetain you. Pray give any orders you please to Renshaw. He is awell-trained and responsible servant. There are horses in the stable.Good-night. I repeat that I am obliged to you."