In Search of the Unknown

by Robert W. Chambers

  XXIV

  "As we reached the Place Verte and turned into the court of the hotel,the sound of the midnight bells swept over the city, and a horse-carjingled slowly by on its last trip to the railroad station.

  "We passed the fountain, bubbling and splashing in the moonlit court,and, crossing the square, entered the southern wing of the hotel. Atthe foot of the stairway she leaned for an instant against thebanisters.

  "'I am afraid we have walked too fast,' I said.

  "She turned to me coldly. 'No--conventionalities must be observed. Youwere quite right in escaping as soon as possible.'

  "'But,' I protested, 'I assure you--'

  "She gave a little movement of impatience. 'Don't,' she said, 'youtire me--conventionalities tire me. Be satisfied--nobody has seenyou.'

  "'You are cruel,' I said, in a low voice--'what do you think I carefor conventionalities?'

  "'You care everything--you care what people think, and you try to dowhat they say is good form. You never did such an original thing inyour life as you have just done.'

  "'You read my thoughts,' I exclaimed, bitterly. 'It is not fair--'

  "'Fair or not, I know what you consider me--ill-bred, common, pleasedwith any sort of attention. Oh! why should I waste one word--onethought on you?'

  "'Miss Wyeth--' I began, but she interrupted me.

  "'Would you dare tell me what you think of me?--Would you dare tell mewhat you think of my father?'

  "I was silent. She turned and mounted two steps of the stairway, thenfaced me again.

  "'Do you think it was for my own pleasure that I permitted myself tobe left alone with you? Do you imagine that I am flattered by yourattention?--do you venture to think I ever could be? How dared youthink what you did think there on the sea-wall?'

  "'I cannot help my thoughts!' I replied.

  "'You turned on me like a tiger when you awoke from your trance. Doyou really suppose that you mewed? Are you not aware that my fatherhypnotized you?'

  "'No--I did not know it,' I said. The hot blood tingled in myfinger-tips, and I looked angrily at her.

  "'Why do you imagine that I waste my time on you?' she said. 'Yourvanity has answered that question--now let your intelligence answerit. I am a Pythagorean; I have been chosen to bring in a convert, andyou were the convert selected for me by the Mahatmas of theConsolidated Trust Company. I have followed you from New York toAntwerp, as I was bidden, but now my courage fails, and I shrink fromfulfilling my mission, knowing you to be the type of man you are. If Icould give it up--if I could only go away--never, never again to seeyou! Ah, I fear they will not permit it!--until my mission isaccomplished. Why was I chosen--I, with a woman's heart and a woman'spride. I--I hate you!'

  "'I love you,' I said, slowly.

  "She paled and looked away.

  "'Answer me,' I said.

  "Her wide, blue eyes turned back again, and I held them with mine. Atlast she slowly drew a long-stemmed rose from the bunch at her belt,turned, and mounted the shadowy staircase. For a moment I thought Isaw her pause on the landing above, but the moonlight was uncertain.After waiting for a long time in vain, I moved away, and in goingraised my hand to my face, but I stopped short, and my heart stoppedtoo, for a moment. In my hand I held a long-stemmed rose.

  "With my brain in a whirl I crept across the court and mounted thestairs to my room. Hour after hour I walked the floor, slowly atfirst, then more rapidly, but it brought no calm to the fierce tumultof my thoughts, and at last I dropped into a chair before the emptyfireplace, burying my head in my hands.

  "Uncertain, shocked, and deadly weary, I tried to think--I strove tobring order out of the chaos in my brain, but I only sat staring atthe long-stemmed rose. Slowly I began to take a vague pleasure in itsheavy perfume, and once I crushed a leaf between my palms, and,bending over, drank in the fragrance.

  "Twice my lamp flickered and went out, and twice, treading softly, Icrossed the room to relight it. Twice I threw open the door, thinkingthat I heard some sound without. How close the air was!--how heavy andhot! And what was that strange, subtle odor which had insensiblyfilled the room? It grew stronger and more penetrating, and I beganto dislike it, and to escape it I buried my nose in the half-openedrose. Horror! The odor came from the rose--and the rose itself was nolonger a rose--not even a flower now--it was only a bunch of catnip;and I dashed it to the floor and ground it under my heel.

  "'Mountebank!' I cried, in a rage. My anger grew cold--and I shivered,drawn perforce to the curtained window. Something was there, outside.I could not hear it, for it made no sound, but I knew it was there,watching me. What was it? The damp hair stirred on my head. I touchedthe heavy curtains. Whatever was outside them sprang up, tore at thewindow, and then rushed away.

  "Feeling very shaky, I crept to the window, opened it, and leaned out.The night was calm. I heard the fountain splashing in the moonlightand the sea-winds soughing through the palms. Then I closed the windowand turned back into the room; and as I stood there a sudden breeze,which could not have come from without, blew sharply in my face,extinguishing the candle and sending the long curtains bellying outinto the room. The lamp on the table flashed and smoked and sputtered;the room was littered with flying papers and catnip leaves. Then thestrange wind died away, and somewhere in the night a cat snarled.

  "I turned desperately to my trunk and flung it open. Into it I threweverything I owned, pell-mell, closed the lid, locked it, and, seizingmy mackintosh and travelling-bag, ran down the stairs, crossed thecourt, and entered the night-office of the hotel. There I called upthe sleepy clerk, settled my reckoning, and sent a porter for a cab.

  "'Now,' I said, 'what time does the next train leave?'

  "'The next train for where?'

  "'Anywhere!'

  "The clerk locked the safe, and, carefully keeping the desk betweenhimself and me, motioned the office-boy to look at the time-tables.

  "'Next train, 2.10. Brussels--Paris,' read the boy.

  "At that moment the cab rattled up by the curbstone, and I sprang inwhile the porter tossed my traps on top. Away we bumped over the stonypavement, past street after street lighted dimly by tall gas-lamps,and alley after alley brilliant with the glare of villanous all-nightcafe-concerts, and then, turning, we rumbled past the Circus and theEldorado, and at last stopped with a jolt before the Brussels station.

  "I had not a moment to lose. 'Paris!' I cried--'first-class!' and,pocketing the book of coupons, hurried across the platform to wherethe Brussels train lay. A guard came running up, flung open the doorof a first-class carriage, slammed and locked it after I had jumpedin, and the long train glided from the arched station out into thestarlit morning.

  "I was all alone in the compartment. The wretched lamp in the roofflickered dimly, scarcely lighting the stuffy box. I could not see toread my time-table, so I wrapped my legs in the travelling-rug and layback, staring out into the misty morning. Trees, walls,telegraph-poles flashed past, and the cinders drove in showers againstthe rattling windows. I slept at times, fitfully, and once, springingup, peered sharply at the opposite seat, possessed with the idea thatsomebody was there.

  "When the train reached Brussels I was sound asleep, and the guardawoke me with difficulty.

  "'Breakfast, sir?' he asked.

  "'Anything,' I sighed, and stepped out to the platform, rubbing mylegs and shivering. The other passengers were already breakfasting inthe station cafe, and I joined them and managed to swallow a cup ofcoffee and a roll.

  "The morning broke gray and cloudy, and I bundled myself into mymackintosh for a tramp along the platform. Up and down I stamped,puffing a cigar, and digging my hands deep in my pockets, while theother passengers huddled into the warmer compartments of the train orstood watching the luggage being lifted into the forwardmail-carriage. The wait was very long; the hands of the great clockpointed to six, and still the train lay motionless along the platform.I approached a guard and asked him whether anything was wrong.

  "'Accident on the line,' he
replied; 'monsieur had better go to hiscompartment and try to sleep, for we may be delayed until noon.'

  "I followed the guard's advice, and, crawling into my corner, wrappedmyself in the rug and lay back watching the rain-drops spatteringalong the window-sill. At noon the train had not moved, and I lunchedin the compartment. At four o'clock in the afternoon thestation-master came hurrying along the platform, crying, 'Montez!montez! messieurs, s'il vous plait'--and the train steamed out of thestation and whirled away through the flat, treeless Belgian plains. Attimes I dozed, but the shaking of the car always awoke me, and I wouldsit blinking out at the endless stretch of plain, until a suddenflurry of rain blotted the landscape from my eyes. At last a long,shrill whistle from the engine, a jolt, a series of bumps, and anapparition of red trousers and bayonets warned me that we had arrivedat the French frontier. I turned out with the others, and opened myvalise for inspection, but the customs officials merely chalked it,without examination, and I hurried back to my compartment amid theshouting of guards and the clanging of station bells. Again I foundthat I was alone in the compartment, so I smoked a cigarette, thankedHeaven, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  "How long I slept I do not know, but when I awoke the train wasroaring through a tunnel. When again it flashed out into the opencountry I peered through the grimy, rain-stained window and saw thatthe storm had ceased and stars were twinkling in the sky. I stretchedmy legs, yawned, pushed my travelling-cap back from my forehead, and,stumbling to my feet, walked up and down the compartment until mycramped muscles were relieved. Then I sat down again, and, lighting acigar, puffed great rings and clouds of fragrant smoke across theaisle.

  "The train was flying; the cars lurched and shook, and the windowsrattled accompaniment to the creaking panels. The smoke from my cigardimmed the lamp in the ceiling and hid the opposite seat from view.How it curled and writhed in the corners, now eddying upward, nowfloating across the aisle like a veil! I lounged back in my cushionedseat, watching it with interest. What queer shapes it took! How thickit was becoming!--how strangely luminous! Now it had filled the wholecompartment, puff after puff crowding upward, waving, wavering,clouding the windows, and blotting the lamp from sight. It was mostinteresting. I had never before smoked such a cigar. What anextraordinary brand! I examined the end, flicking the ashes away. Thecigar was out. Fumbling for a match to relight it, my eyes fell on thedrifting smoke-curtain which swayed across the corner opposite. Itseemed almost tangible. How like a real curtain it hung, gray,impenetrable! A man might hide behind it. Then an idea came into myhead, and it persisted until my uneasiness amounted to a vague terror.I tried to fight it off--I strove to resist--but the conviction slowlysettled upon me that something was behind that smoke-veil--somethingwhich had entered the compartment while I slept.

  "'It can't be,' I muttered, my eyes fixed on the misty drapery; 'thetrain has not stopped.'

  "The car creaked and trembled. I sprang to my feet and swept my armthrough the veil of smoke. Then my hair rose on my head. For my handtouched another hand, and my eyes had met two other eyes.

  "I heard a voice in the gloom, low and sweet, calling me by name; Isaw the eyes again, tender and blue; soft fingers touched my own.

  "'Are you afraid?' she said.

  "My heart began to beat again, and my face warmed with returningblood.

  "'It is only I,' she said, gently.

  "I seemed to hear my own voice speaking as if at a great distance,'You here--alone?'

  "'How cruel of you!' she faltered; 'I am not alone.' At the sameinstant my eyes fell upon the professor, calmly seated by the fartherwindow. His hands were thrust into the folds of a corded and tasselleddressing-gown, from beneath which peeped two enormous feet encased incarpet slippers. Upon his head towered a yellow night-cap. He did notpay the slightest attention to either me or his daughter, and, exceptfor the lighted cigar which he kept shifting between his lips, hemight have been taken for a wax dummy.

  "Then I began to speak, feebly, hesitating like a child.

  "'How did you come into this compartment? You--you do not possesswings, I suppose? You could not have been here all the time. Will youexplain--explain to me? See, I ask you very humbly, for I do notunderstand. This is the nineteenth century, and these things don't fitin. I'm wearing a Dunlap hat--I've got a copy of the New York _Herald_in my bag--President Roosevelt is alive, and everything is so veryunromantic in the world! Is this real magic? Perhaps I'm filled withhallucinations. Perhaps I'm asleep and dreaming. Perhaps you are notreally here--nor I--nor anybody, nor anything!'

  "The train plunged into a tunnel, and when again it dashed out fromthe other end the cold wind blew furiously in my face from the fartherwindow. It was wide open; the professor was gone.

  "'Papa has changed to another compartment,' she said, quietly. 'Ithink perhaps you were beginning to bore him.'

  "Her eyes met mine and she smiled.

  "'Are you very much bewildered?'

  "I looked at her in silence. She sat very quietly, her hands claspedabove her knee, her curly hair glittering to her girdle. A long robe,almost silvery in the twilight, clung to her young figure; her barefeet were thrust deep into a pair of shimmering Eastern slippers.

  "'When you fled,' she sighed, 'I was asleep and there was no time tolose. I barely had a moment to go to Bombay, to find papa, and returnin time to join you. This is an East-Indian costume.'

  "Still I was silent.

  "'Are you shocked?' she asked, simply.

  "'No,' I replied, in a dull voice, 'I'm past that.'

  "'You are very rude,' she said, with the tears starting to her eyes.

  "'I do not mean to be. I only wish to go away--away somewhere and findout what my name is.'

  "'Your name is Harold Kensett.'

  "'Are you sure?' I asked, eagerly.

  "'Yes--what troubles you?'

  "'Is everything plain to you? Are you a sort of prophet andsecond-sight medium? Is nothing hidden from you?' I asked.

  "'Nothing,' she faltered. My head ached and I clasped it in my hand.

  "A sudden change came over her. 'I am human--believe me!' she said,with piteous eagerness. 'Indeed, I do not seem strange to those whounderstand. You wonder, because you left me at midnight in Antwerp andyou wake to find me here. If, because I find myself reincarnated,endowed with senses and capabilities which few at present possess--ifI am so made, why should it seem strange? It is all so natural to me.If I appear to you--'

  "'Appear?'

  "'Yes--'

  "'Wilhelmina!' I cried; 'can you vanish?'

  "'Yes,' she murmured; 'does it seem to you unmaidenly?'

  "'Great Heaven!' I groaned.

  "'Don't!' she cried, with tears in her voice--'oh, please don't! Helpme to bear it! If you only knew how awful it is to be different fromother girls--how mortifying it is to me to be able to vanish--oh, howI hate and detest it all!'

  "'Don't cry,' I said, looking at her pityingly.

  "'Oh, dear me!' she sobbed. 'You shudder at the sight of me because Ican vanish.'

  "'I don't!' I cried.

  "'Yes, you do! You abhor me--you shrink away! Oh, why did I ever seeyou?--why did you ever come into my life?--what have I done in agespast, that now, reborn, I suffer cruelly--cruelly?'

  "'What do you mean?' I whispered. My voice trembled with happiness.

  "'I?--nothing; but you think me a fabled monster.'

  "'Wilhelmina--my sweet Wilhelmina,' I said, 'I don't think you afabled monster. I love you; see--see--I am at your feet; listen to me,my darling--'

  "She turned her blue eyes to mine. I saw tears sparkling on the curvedlashes.

  "'Wilhelmina, I love you,' I said again.

  "Slowly she raised her hands to my head and held it a moment, lookingat me strangely. Then her face grew nearer to my own, her glitteringhair fell over my shoulders, her lips rested on mine.

  "In that long, sweet kiss the beating of her heart answered mine, andI learned a thousand truths, wonderful, mysterious, splendid;
but whenour lips fell apart, the memory of what I learned departed also.

  "'It was so very simple and beautiful,' she sighed, 'and I--I neversaw it. But the Mahatmas knew--ah, they knew that my mission couldonly be accomplished through love.'

  "'And it is,' I whispered, 'for you shall teach me--me, your husband.'

  "'And--and you will not be impatient? You will try to believe?'

  "'I will believe what you tell me, my sweetheart.'

  "'Even about--cats?'

  "Before I could reply the farther window opened and a yellownight-cap, followed by the professor, entered from somewhere without.Wilhelmina sank back on her sofa, but the professor needed not to betold, and we both knew he was already busily reading our thoughts.

  "For a moment there was dead silence--long enough for the professor tograsp the full significance of what had passed. Then he uttered asingle exclamation, 'Oh!'

  "After a while, however, he looked at me for the first time thatevening, saying, 'Congratulate you, Mr. Kensett, I'm sure,' tiedseveral knots in the cord of his dressing-gown, lighted a cigar, andpaid no further attention to either of us. Some moments later heopened the window again and disappeared. I looked across the aisle atWilhelmina.

  "'You may come over beside me,' she said, shyly.