flask and set it back upon themantelpiece. He understood that in Mudge's present condition one side ofthe flask was open to space and he could drink without removing thestopper. He could hardly have had a more interesting proof of what hehad been hearing described at such length.
But the next moment--the very same moment it almost seemed--the Germanband stopped midway in its tune--and there was Mr. Mudge back in hischair again, gasping and panting!
"Quick!" he shrieked, "stop that band! Send it away! Catch hold of me!Block the entrances! Block the entrances! Give me the red book! Oh, oh,oh-h-h-h!!!"
The music had begun again. It was merely a temporary interruption. The_Tannhaeuser_ March started again, this time at a tremendous pace thatmade it sound like a rapid two-step as though the instruments playedagainst time.
But the brief interruption gave Dr. Silence a moment in which to collecthis scattering thoughts, and before the band had got through half a bar,he had flung forward upon the chair and held Mr. Racine Mudge, thestruggling little victim of Higher Space, in a grip of iron. His armswent all round his diminutive person, taking in a good part of the chairat the same time. He was not a big man, yet he seemed to smother Mudgecompletely.
Yet, even as he did so, and felt the wriggling form underneath him, itbegan to melt and slip away like air or water. The wood of the arm-chairsomehow disentangled itself from between his own arms and those ofMudge. The phenomenon known as the passage of matter through matter tookplace. The little man seemed actually to get mixed up in his own being.Dr. Silence could just see his face beneath him. It puckered and grewdark as though from some great internal effort. He heard the thin, reedyvoice cry in his ear to "Block the entrances, block the entrances!" andthen--but how in the world describe what is indescribable?
John Silence half rose up to watch. Racine Mudge, his face distortedbeyond all recognition, was making a marvellous inward movement, asthough doubling back upon himself. He turned funnel-wise like water in awhirling vortex, and then appeared to break up somewhat as a reflectionbreaks up and divides in a distorting convex mirror. He went neitherforward nor backwards, neither to the right nor the left, neither up nordown. But he went. He went utterly. He simply flashed away out of sightlike a vanishing projectile.
All but one leg! Dr. Silence just had the time and the presence of mindto seize upon the left ankle and boot as it disappeared, and to this heheld on for several seconds like grim death. Yet all the time he knew itwas a foolish and useless thing to do.
The foot was in his grasp one moment, and the next it seemed--this wasthe only way he could describe it--inside his own skin and bones, and atthe same time outside his hand and all round it. It seemed mixed up insome amazing way with his own flesh and blood. Then it was gone, and hewas tightly grasping a draught of heated air.
"Gone! gone! gone!" cried a thick, whispering voice, somewhere deepwithin his own consciousness. "Lost! lost! lost!" it repeated, growingfainter and fainter till at length it vanished into nothing and the lastsigns of Mr. Racine Mudge vanished with it.
John Silence locked his red book and replaced it in the cabinet, whichhe fastened with a click, and when Barker answered the bell he inquiredif Mr. Mudge had left a card upon the table. It appeared that he had,and when the servant returned with it, Dr. Silence read the address andmade a note of it. It was in North London.
"Mr. Mudge has gone," he said quietly to Barker, noticing his expressionof alarm.
"He's not taken his 'at with him, sir."
"Mr. Mudge requires no hat where he is now," continued the doctor,stooping to poke the fire. "But he may return for it--"
"And the humbrella, sir."
"And the umbrella."
"He didn't go out _my_ way, sir, if you please," stuttered the amazedservant, his curiosity overcoming his nervousness.
"Mr. Mudge has his own way of coming and going, and prefers it. If hereturns by the door at any time remember to bring him instantly to me,and be kind and gentle with him and ask no questions. Also, remember,Barker, to think pleasantly, sympathetically, affectionately of himwhile he is away. Mr. Mudge is a very suffering gentleman."
Barker bowed and went out of the room backwards, gasping and feelinground the inside of his collar with three very hot fingers of one hand.
It was two days later when he brought in a telegram to the study. Dr.Silence opened it, and read as follows:
"Bombay. Just slipped out again. All safe. Have blocked entrances. Thousand thanks. Address Cooks, London.--MUDGE."
Dr. Silence looked up and saw Barker staring at him bewilderingly. Itoccurred to him that somehow he knew the contents of the telegram.
"Make a parcel of Mr. Mudge's things," he said briefly, "and addressthem Thomas Cook & Sons, Ludgate Circus. And send them there exactly amonth from to-day and marked 'To be called for.'"
"Yes, sir," said Barker, leaving the room with a deep sigh and a hurriedglance at the waste-paper basket where his master had dropped the pinkpaper.
Three More John Silence Stories Page 27
