_THE SUPERFLUOUS MANSION_(_Concluded_)
Somerset ran straight upstairs; the door of the drawing-room, contrary toall custom, was unlocked; and bursting in, the young man found Zeroseated on a sofa in an attitude of singular dejection. Close beside himstood an untasted grog, the mark of strong preoccupation. The roombesides was in confusion: boxes had been tumbled to and fro; the floorwas strewn with keys and other implements; and in the midst of thisdisorder lay a lady's glove.
'I have come,' cried Somerset, 'to make an end of this. Either you willinstantly abandon all your schemes, or (cost what it may) I will denounceyou to the police.'
'Ah!' replied Zero, slowly shaking his head. 'You are too late, dearfellow! I am already at the end of all my hopes, and fallen to be alaughing-stock and mockery. My reading,' he added, with a gentledespondency of manner, 'has not been much among romances; yet I recallfrom one a phrase that depicts my present state with critical exactitude;and you behold me sitting here "like a burst drum."'
'What has befallen you?' cried Somerset.
'My last batch,' returned the plotter wearily, 'like all the others, is ahollow mockery and a fraud. In vain do I combine the elements; in vainadjust the springs; and I have now arrived at such a pitch ofdisconsideration that (except yourself, dear fellow) I do not know a soulthat I can face. My subordinates themselves have turned upon me. Whatlanguage have I heard to-day, what illiberality of sentiment, whatpungency of expression! She came once; I could have pardoned that, forshe was moved; but she returned, returned to announce to me this crushingblow; and, Somerset, she was very inhumane. Yes, dear fellow, I havedrunk a bitter cup; the speech of females is remarkable for . . . well,well! Denounce me, if you will; you but denounce the dead. I amextinct. It is strange how, at this supreme crisis of my life, I shouldbe haunted by quotations from works of an inexact and even fancifuldescription; but here,' he added, 'is another: "Othello's occupation'sgone." Yes, dear Somerset, it is gone; I am no more a dynamiter; andhow, I ask you, after having tasted of these joys, am I to condescend toa less glorious life?'
'I cannot describe how you relieve me,' returned Somerset, sitting downon one of several boxes that had been drawn out into the middle of thefloor. 'I had conceived a sort of maudlin toleration for your character;I have a great distaste, besides, for anything in the nature of a duty;and upon both grounds, your news delights me. But I seem to perceive,'he added, 'a certain sound of ticking in this box.'
'Yes,' replied Zero, with the same slow weariness of manner, 'I have setseveral of them going.'
'My God!' cried Somerset, bounding to his feet.
'Machines?'
'Machines!' returned the plotter bitterly. 'Machines indeed! I blush tobe their author. Alas!' he said, burying his face in his hands, 'that Ishould live to say it!'
'Madman!' cried Somerset, shaking him by the arm. 'What am I tounderstand? Have you, indeed, set these diabolical contrivances inmotion? and do we stay here to be blown up?'
'"Hoist with his own petard?"' returned the plotter musingly. 'One morequotation: strange! But indeed my brain is struck with numbness. Yes,dear boy, I have, as you say, put my contrivance in motion. The one onwhich you are sitting, I have timed for half an hour. Yon other--'
'Half an hour!--' echoed Somerset, dancing with trepidation. 'MercifulHeavens, in half an hour?'
'Dear fellow, why so much excitement?' inquired Zero. 'My dynamite isnot more dangerous than toffy; had I an only child, I would give it himto play with. You see this brick?' he continued, lifting a cake of theinfernal compound from the laboratory-table. 'At a touch it shouldexplode, and that with such unconquerable energy as should bestrew thesquare with ruins. Well now, behold! I dash it on the floor.'
Somerset sprang forward, and with the strength of the very ecstasy ofterror, wrested the brick from his possession. 'Heavens!' he cried,wiping his brow; and then with more care than ever mother handled herfirst-born withal, gingerly transported the explosive to the far end ofthe apartment: the plotter, his arms once more fallen to his side,dispiritedly watching him.
'It was entirely harmless,' he sighed. 'They describe it as burning liketobacco.'
'In the name of fortune,' cried Somerset, 'what have I done to you, orwhat have you done to yourself, that you should persist in this insanebehaviour? If not for your own sake, then for mine, let us depart fromthis doomed house, where I profess I have not the heart to leave you; andthen, if you will take my advice, and if your determination be sincere,you will instantly quit this city, where no further occupation can detainyou.'
'Such, dear fellow, was my own design,' replied the plotter. 'I have, asyou observe, no further business here; and once I have packed a littlebag, I shall ask you to share a frugal meal, to go with me as far as tothe station, and see the last of a broken-hearted man. And yet,' headded, looking on the boxes with a lingering regret, 'I should have likedto make quite certain. I cannot but suspect my underlings of somemismanagement; it may be fond, but yet I cherish that idea: it may be theweakness of a man of science, but yet,' he cried, rising into someenergy, 'I will never, I cannot if I try, believe that my poor dynamitehas had fair usage!'
'Five minutes!' said Somerset, glancing with horror at the timepiece.'If you do not instantly buckle to your bag, I leave you.'
'A few necessaries,' returned Zero, 'only a few necessaries, dearSomerset, and you behold me ready.'
He passed into the bedroom, and after an interval which seemed to drawout into eternity for his unfortunate companion, he returned, bearing inhis hand an open Gladstone bag. His movements were still horriblydeliberate, and his eyes lingered gloatingly on his dear boxes, as hemoved to and fro about the drawing-room, gathering a few small trifles.Last of all, he lifted one of the squares of dynamite.
'Put that down!' cried Somerset. 'If what you say be true, you have nocall to load yourself with that ungodly contraband.'
'Merely a curiosity, dear boy,' he said persuasively, and slipped thebrick into his bag; 'merely a memento of the past--ah, happy past, brightpast! You will not take a touch of spirits? no? I find you veryabstemious. Well,' he added, 'if you have really no curiosity to awaitthe event--'
'I!' cried Somerset. 'My blood boils to get away.'
'Well, then,' said Zero, 'I am ready; I would I could say, willing; butthus to leave the scene of my sublime endeavours--'
Without further parley, Somerset seized him by the arm, and dragged himdownstairs; the hall-door shut with a clang on the deserted mansion; andstill towing his laggardly companion, the young man sped across thesquare in the Oxford Street direction. They had not yet passed thecorner of the garden, when they were arrested by a dull thud of anextraordinary amplitude of sound, accompanied and followed by ashattering _fracas_. Somerset turned in time to see the mansion rend intwain, vomit forth flames and smoke, and instantly collapse into itscellars. At the same moment, he was thrown violently to the ground. Hisfirst glance was towards Zero. The plotter had but reeled against thegarden rail; he stood there, the Gladstone bag clasped tight upon hisheart, his whole face radiant with relief and gratitude; and the youngman heard him murmur to himself: '_Nunc dimittis_, _nunc dimittis_!'
The consternation of the populace was indescribable; the whole of GoldenSquare was alive with men, women, and children, running wildly to andfro, and like rabbits in a warren, dashing in and out of the house doors.And under favour of this confusion, Somerset dragged away the lingeringplotter.
'It was grand,' he continued to murmur: 'it was indescribably grand. Ah,green Erin, green Erin, what a day of glory! and oh, my calumniateddynamite, how triumphantly hast thou prevailed!'
Suddenly a shade crossed his face; and pausing in the middle of thefootway, he consulted the dial of his watch.
'Good God!' he cried, 'how mortifying! seven minutes too early! Thedynamite surpassed my hopes; but the clockwork, fickle clockwork, hasonce more betrayed me. Alas, can there be no success unmixed withfailure? and must even this
red-letter day be chequered by a shadow?'
'Incomparable ass!' said Somerset, 'what have you done? Blown up thehouse of an unoffending old lady, and the whole earthly property of theonly person who is fool enough to befriend you!'
'You do not understand these matters,' replied Zero, with an air of greatdignity. 'This will shake England to the heart. Gladstone, thetruculent old man, will quail before the pointing finger of revenge. Andnow that my dynamite is proved effective--'
'Heavens, you remind me!' ejaculated Somerset. 'That brick in your bagmust be instantly disposed of. But how? If we could throw it in theriver--'
'A torpedo,' cried Zero, brightening, 'a torpedo in the Thames! Superb,dear fellow! I recognise in you the marks of an accomplished anarch.'
'True!' returned Somerset. 'It cannot so be done; and there is no helpbut you must carry it away with you. Come on, then, and let me at onceconsign you to a train.'
'Nay, nay, dear boy,' protested Zero. 'There is now no call for me toleave. My character is now reinstated; my fame brightens; this is thebest thing I have done yet; and I see from here the ovations that awaitthe author of the Golden Square Atrocity.'
'My young friend,' returned the other, 'I give you your choice. I willeither see you safe on board a train or safe in gaol.'
'Somerset, this is unlike you!' said the chymist. 'You surprise me,Somerset.'
'I shall considerably more surprise you at the next police office,'returned Somerset, with something bordering on rage. 'For on one pointmy mind is settled: either I see you packed off to America, brick andall, or else you dine in prison.'
'You have perhaps neglected one point,' returned the unoffended Zero:'for, speaking as a philosopher, I fail to see what means you can employto force me. The will, my dear fellow--'
'Now, see here,' interrupted Somerset. 'You are ignorant of anything butscience, which I can never regard as being truly knowledge; I, sir, havestudied life; and allow me to inform you that I have but to raise my handand voice--here in this street--and the mob--'
'Good God in heaven, Somerset,' cried Zero, turning deadly white andstopping in his walk, 'great God in heaven, what words are these? Oh,not in jest, not even in jest, should they be used! The brutal mob, thesavage passions . . . Somerset, for God's sake, a public-house!'
Somerset considered him with freshly awakened curiosity. 'This is veryinteresting,' said he. 'You recoil from such a death?'
'Who would not?' asked the plotter.
'And to be blown up by dynamite,' inquired the young man, 'doubtlessstrikes you as a form of euthanasia?'
'Pardon me,' returned Zero: 'I own, and since I have braved it daily inmy professional career, I own it even with pride: it is a death unusuallydistasteful to the mind of man.'
'One more question,' said Somerset: 'you object to Lynch Law? why?'
'It is assassination,' said the plotter calmly, but with eyebrows alittle lifted, as in wonder at the question.
'Shake hands with me,' cried Somerset. 'Thank God, I have now noill-feeling left; and though you cannot conceive how I burn to see you onthe gallows, I can quite contentedly assist at your departure.'
'I do not very clearly take your meaning,' said Zero, 'but I am sure youmean kindly. As to my departure, there is another point to beconsidered. I have neglected to supply myself with funds; my little allhas perished in what history will love to relate under the name of theGolden Square Atrocity; and without what is coarsely if vigorously calledstamps, you must be well aware it is impossible for me to pass theocean.'
'For me,' said Somerset, 'you have now ceased to be a man. You have nomore claim upon me than a door scraper; but the touching confusion ofyour mind disarms me from extremities. Until to-day, I always thoughtstupidity was funny; I now know otherwise; and when I look upon youridiot face, laughter rises within me like a deadly sickness, and thetears spring up into my eyes as bitter as blood. What should thisportend? I begin to doubt; I am losing faith in scepticism. Is itpossible,' he cried, in a kind of horror of himself--'is it conceivablethat I believe in right and wrong? Already I have found myself, withincredulous surprise, to be the victim of a prejudice of personal honour.And must this change proceed? Have you robbed me of my youth? Must Ifall, at my time of life, into the Common Banker? But why should Iaddress that head of wood? Let this suffice. I dare not let you stayamong women and children; I lack the courage to denounce you, if by anymeans I may avoid it; you have no money: well then, take mine, and go;and if ever I behold your face after to-day, that day will be your last.'
'Under the circumstances,' replied Zero, 'I scarce see my way to refuseyour offer. Your expressions may pain, they cannot surprise me; I amaware our point of view requires a little training, a little moralhygiene, if I may so express it; and one of the points that has alwayscharmed me in your character is this delightful frankness. As for thesmall advance, it shall be remitted you from Philadelphia.'
'It shall not,' said Somerset.
'Dear fellow, you do not understand,' returned the plotter. 'I shall nowbe received with fresh confidence by my superiors; and my experimentswill be no longer hampered by pitiful conditions of the purse.'
'What I am now about, sir, is a crime,' replied Somerset; 'and were youto roll in wealth like Vanderbilt, I should scorn to be reimbursed ofmoney I had so scandalously misapplied. Take it, and keep it. ByGeorge, sir, three days of you have transformed me to an ancient Roman.'
With these words, Somerset hailed a passing hansom; and the pair weredriven rapidly to the railway terminus. There, an oath having beenexacted, the money changed hands.
'And now,' said Somerset, 'I have bought back my honour with every pennyI possess. And I thank God, though there is nothing before me butstarvation, I am free from all entanglement with Mr. Zero PumpernickelJones.'
'To starve?' cried Zero. 'Dear fellow, I cannot endure the thought.'
'Take your ticket!' returned Somerset.
'I think you display temper,' said Zero.
'Take your ticket,' reiterated the young man.
'Well,' said the plotter, as he returned, ticket in hand, 'your attitudeis so strange and painful, that I scarce know if I should ask you toshake hands.'
'As a man, no,' replied Somerset; 'but I have no objection to shake handswith you, as I might with a pump-well that ran poison or bell-fire.'
'This is a very cold parting,' sighed the dynamiter; and still followedby Somerset, he began to descend the platform. This was now bustlingwith passengers; the train for Liverpool was just about to start, anotherhad but recently arrived; and the double tide made movement difficult.As the pair reached the neighbourhood of the bookstall, however, theycame into an open space; and here the attention of the plotter wasattracted by a _Standard_ broadside bearing the words: 'Second Edition:Explosion in Golden Square.' His eye lighted; groping in his pocket forthe necessary coin, he sprang forward--his bag knocked sharply on thecorner of the stall--and instantly, with a formidable report, thedynamite exploded. When the smoke cleared away the stall was seen muchshattered, and the stall keeper running forth in terror from the ruins;but of the Irish patriot or the Gladstone bag no adequate remains were tobe found.
In the first scramble of the alarm, Somerset made good his escape, andcame out upon the Euston Road, his head spinning, his body sick withhunger, and his pockets destitute of coin. Yet as he continued to walkthe pavements, he wondered to find in his heart a sort of peacefulexultation, a great content, a sense, as it were, of divine presence andthe kindliness of fate; and he was able to tell himself that even if theworst befell, he could now starve with a certain comfort since Zero wasexpunged.
Late in the afternoon, he found himself at the door of Mr. Godall's shop;and being quite unmanned by his long fast, and scarce considering what hedid, he opened the glass door and entered.
'Ha!' said Mr. Godall, 'Mr. Somerset! Well, have you met with anadventure? Have you the promised story? Sit down, if you please; sufferme to choose you
a cigar of my own special brand; and reward me with anarrative in your best style.'
'I must not take a cigar,' said Somerset.
'Indeed!' said Mr. Godall. 'But now I come to look at you more closely,I perceive that you are changed. My poor boy, I hope there is nothingwrong?'
Somerset burst into tears.
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