The Soul Stealer

by Guy Thorne

  CHAPTER XIV

  DONALD MEGBIE SEES POSSIBILITIES

  So Sir William Gouldesbrough passed through the crowds of friends andacquaintances who crowded round him in a welter of curiosity andcongratulation, and came into the inner room, where Lord Malvin, SirHarold Oliver and Mr. Donald Megbie were waiting to receive him.

  Tall, suave, and self-contained, he bowed and shook hands. Then therewas a moment's pause--they were waiting for him to speak, expectant ofwhat he should say.

  "I am sorry, Lord Malvin," he began, "that I have arrived so late atyour party. But I was conducting an experiment, and when I was half-waythrough I found that it was going to lead me much further than Ithought. You know how that happens sometimes?"

  "Perfectly, Sir William, and the fact is a scientist's greatest pleasurevery often. Now, may I ask you--you will excuse an old man'simpatience--may I ask you if you have finally succeeded? When I lastsaw you the composition of the spectrum presented a difficulty."

  "That I have now completely overcome, Lord Malvin."

  Lord Malvin trembled, actually trembled with excitement. "Then theseries of experiments is complete?"

  "Quite. And more than that, I have done, not once or twice but manytimes, exactly what I told you I hoped to do. The thing, my lord, is anaccomplished fact, indisputable--_certain_!"

  Lord Malvin turned to Sir Harold Oliver and Megbie.

  "Gentlemen," he said in a clear voice but full of a profound emotion."The history of life is changed. We all must stand in a new relation toeach other, to society and to the world."

  Donald Megbie knew that here was a chance of his literary lifetime. LordMalvin would never have spoken in this way without due consideration andabsolute conviction. Something very big indeed was in the air. But whatwas it? The journalist had not an idea as yet.

  He looked eagerly at the aquiline, ascetic face of the inventor, markedthe slight smile of triumph that lingered round the lips, and noted howthe eyes shone, brilliantly, steadily, as if they were lighted up frombehind. Megbie had seen many men in many countries.

  And as he looked keenly at Sir William Gouldesbrough two thoughts cameinto his mind. One was something like this--"You are certainly one ofthe most intellectual and remarkable men now living. You are unique, andyou stand upon a pedestal of fame that only one man in severalgenerations ever reaches. All the same, I shouldn't like to be in yourpower or to stand in your way!" And moreover the question came to thequick analytic brain of the writer whether the brilliance of thoselamp-like eyes was wholly natural, was wholly sane.

  These twin thoughts were born and over in a flash, and even as hethought of them Megbie began to speak.

  "Now that Lord Malvin has told us so much, Sir William," he said, "won'tyou tell us some more? I suppose you know that all the world is waitingfor a pronouncement?"

  "The world will know very soon, Mr. Megbie," Gouldesbrough answeredpleasantly. "In about a fortnight's time I am sending out someinvitations to some of our leading people to witness the result of myexperiments in my laboratories. I hope I may have the pleasure of seeingyou there also. But if you wish it, I will certainly give you a slightidea of the work. Since the public seem interested in what I am doing,and something seems to have leaked out, I am quite willing that theyshould know more. And of course there is no one to whom I would rathersay anything than yourself."

  Megbie bowed. He was tremendously excited. Brother writers who did notmake a tenth of his income and had not a quarter of his eminence werewont to say that his ears twitched when in the presence of a greatcelebrity. This no doubt was calumny, but the journalist stood in anattitude of strained attention--as well a man might stand when thesecret of the hour was about to be revealed to him in preference to allother men.

  Gouldesbrough bowed to Lord Malvin.

  "I'm going to have half-an-hour's conversation with Mr. Megbie," hesaid. "Meanwhile, my lord, I wonder if you would give Sir Harold Olivera slight technical outline of my processes? And of course, as Iunderstand this is to be in some sense a night on which your friends areto be given some general information, I shall place myself entirely inyour hands as to any revelations you may think proper to make."

  He moved off with the journalist, leaving the two other men alreadyfallen into deep talk.

  "Where shall we go, Mr. Megbie?" he said, as they came out into a largeroom hung with old Flemish tapestry and full of people.

  "There is a little conservatory down a corridor here," Megbieanswered. "I expect we should be quite undisturbed there. Moreover,we could smoke, and I know that you are like me, Sir William, acigarette-smoker."

  "That will do very well, then," Gouldesbrough answered, and they walkedaway together. Every one saw them go. Ladies nodded and whispered,gentlemen whispered and nodded to each other. The occasion was perfectlywell understood. Sir William was telling Donald Megbie! By supper timeit would be all over the rooms and the _Eastminster Gazette_ to-morrowafternoon would have all the details.

  "Megbie is always chosen in affairs of this sort." "That's Megbie, thewriting Johnny, who sort of stage-manages all these things." "Theubiquitous Donald has got him in his grip, and we shall soon know allthe details"--these were the remarks made upon every side as the two menstrolled through the rooms.

  Then an incident that was much commented on next day in society,occurred quite suddenly. It created quite a little sensation and gaverise to a great deal of gossip.

  Sir William and Mr. Megbie came to a part of the room where Lady Pooleand her daughter Marjorie were standing talking to General Mayne of theWar Office.

  Lady Poole saw the scientist.

  "Ah, William!" she said, somewhat loudly, and quite in her old manner ofthe days when Sir William and Marjorie were engaged. "So here you are,blazing with triumph. Every one's talking of you, and every one has beenasking Marjorie if she knows what it is you've invented this time!"

  Megbie, who knew both Lady Poole and her daughter, but did not wish toenter into a conversation just at this important moment, bowed, smiledat the old lady and the girl, and stood a little aside.

  Gouldesbrough took Lady Poole by the hand and bent over it, sayingsomething in a low voice to her. And once more society nodded andwhispered as it saw the flush of pleasure in the lady's face and hergratified smile. Again society whispered and nodded as it saw MarjoriePoole shake hands with her _ex-fiance_, and marked the brightness of herbeautiful eyes and saw the proud lips moving in words of friendship andcongratulation.

  What Gouldesbrough said in answer to Marjorie was this--

  "It is so kind and good of you to be pleased, Marjorie. Nothing is morevaluable to me than that. I am going to have half-an-hour with DonaldMegbie now. I find that it's usual to tell the general public somethingat this stage. So I'm doing it through Megbie. He's safe, you know, andhe understands one. But after that, will you let me take you in to havesome supper? Do please let me! It would just make everything splendid,be the final joy, you know!"

  "I should be very churlish to refuse you anything to-night, William,"she answered sadly, but with great pride for him in her voice. "Haven'tyou done almost everything for me? You've done what no other living manwould have done. I shall be very glad and feel very proud if you willcome back here for me after you have talked to Donald Megbie."

  Gouldesbrough went away with the journalist. In five minutes every onein Lord Malvin's house was saying that Marjorie Poole was engaged to SirWilliam Gouldesbrough once more.

  Marjorie watched the two men go away. Her heart was full of pride andpain. She rejoiced that all this had come to the chivalrous gentlemanwho had been her lover and plighted husband. She felt each incident ofhis growing triumph with intense sympathy and pleasure. He had been sogood to her! From the very first he had been splendid. If only she couldhave loved him, how happy would her lot have been as mate and companionto such a man as this! She was not worldly, but she was of the worldand knew it well. She realized most completely all the advantages, thesubtle pleasures that would belong
to the wife of this great man. Thelove of power and dominion, the sense of a high intellectualcorrespondence with the finest brain of the day, the incense of a loftyand chivalrous devotion--all these, yes, all these, would be for thegirl Sir William loved and wedded.

  She half-wondered if such devotion as his had proved to be ought to gounrewarded.

  Was it _right_? Had any girl a real excuse for making a man like WilliamGouldesbrough unhappy? Guy Rathbone had faded utterly out of life. Thegreatest skill, the most active and prolonged inquiry had failed tothrow the slightest light upon his disappearance.

  As a person, Guy had ceased to exist. He lived only as a memory in herheart. A dear memory, bitter-sweet--ah, sweet and bitter!--but no more athing of flesh and blood. A phantom, a shadow now and for evermore!

  * * * * *

  Sir William and Donald Megbie sat in a small palm house talkingearnestly together. A tiny fountain sent up its glittering whip of waterfrom a marble pool on which water-lilies were floating, while tinyiridescent fish swum slowly round their roots. There was a silence andfragrance in the pleasant remote place, the perfume of exotic flowers,the grateful green of giant cacti which rested the eye.

  Concealed electric lights shed their radiance upon fern, flower, andsparkling water, and both men felt that here was a place for confidencesand a fit spot in which matters of import might be unfolded.

  Both men were smoking, and in the still warm air, the delicate greyspirals from the thick Turkish cigarettes rose with a fantastic grace ofcurve that only the pencil of a Flaxman could have given its true value.

  "I am all attention, Sir William," Megbie said.

  "Well, then, I will put the thing to you in a nutshell, and as simply aspossible. When you come to the demonstration at my house in a few days'time, you will be able to gather all the details and have them explainedto you. I am going to give you a simple broad statement here and now.For years I have been investigating the nature of thought. I have beenseeking to discover what thought really is, how it takes place, what isits _mechanical_ as well as its psychical value. Now, I claim that Ihave discovered the active principle of thought. I have discovered howto measure it, how to harness it, so to speak; how to use it, in fact,just as other investigators in the past have harnessed and utilizedelectricity!"

  Megbie started. "I think I see," he said hurriedly. "I think I seesomething--but go on, Sir William, go on!"

  Gouldesbrough smiled, pleased with the agitation the man who sat by himshowed so plainly.

  He went on--"Hitherto that which observes--I mean the power of thought,has never been able, strictly speaking, to observe itself. It can neverlook on at itself from the outside, or view itself as one of themultitude of things that come under its review. It is itself the originof vision, and the eye cannot see its own power of seeing. I havealtered all this. Thought is a fluid just as electricity is, or one maysay that it is a peculiar form of motion just as light is. The brain isthe machine that creates the motion. I have discovered that the braingives off definite rays or vibrations which rise from it as steam risesfrom a boiling pot. That is the reason why one brain can act uponanother, can influence another. It explains personal magnetism,hypnotism and so on. What I have done is this: I have perfected a meansby which these rays can be collected and controlled. I can place anapparatus upon your head which will collect the thought vibrations asyou think and produce them."

  "And then, Sir William?"

  "Then I can conduct those rays along a wire for any distance in the formof an electric current. Finally, by means of a series of sensitiveinstruments which I will show you at the forthcoming demonstration, Ican transmute these vibrations into actual pictures or words, and throwthem upon a screen for all the world to see. That is to say, in actualwords, whatever any one is thinking is reproduced exactly as he thinksit, without his having any power to prevent it. Thought, which hadhitherto been locked up in the brain of the thinker and only reaches usthrough his words with whatever modification he likes to make, will nowbe absolutely naked and bare."

  There was a silence of a minute or two as Sir William stopped speaking.

  The journalist was thinking deeply, his head bowed upon his hands.

  He looked up at last and his face was very pale. Little beads ofperspiration stood out upon his forehead. His eyes were luminous.

  "It is too big to take in all at once," he said. "But I see some things.In the first instance, your discovery means the triumph of _TRUTH_!Think of it! the saying that 'truth shall prevail' will be justified atlast!"

  Gouldesbrough nodded, and the writer went on, his voice warming intoenthusiasm as he continued, his words pouring out in a flood. "No onewill lie any more because every one will realize that lying will beuseless, when your machine can search out their inmost secrets! In twogenerations deceit will have vanished from the world. We shall invest inno company unless the directors submit themselves to the scrutiny ofyour invention. We shall be able to test the genuineness of everyenterprise before embarking upon it! Again, your invention means thetriumph of _JUSTICE_! There will be no more cases of wrongfulimprisonment. No man will suffer for a crime he did not commit! Oh, it'swonderful, beyond thinking! The cumbrous machinery of the law-courtswill be instantly swept away. The criminal will try himself in spite ofhimself, he will give the secret of his actions to the world! The wholeof life will be changed and made bright! We shall witness the finaltriumph of all--_THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE_! Man or maid will be each able totest the reality and depth of each other's affection! There will be nomore mercenary marriages, no betrayals of trusting women. And from theseunions of love, pure and undefiled by worldly considerations, a new andfiner race will spring up, noble, free and wise! And you, you the mansitting here by my side, have done all this!"

  His voice failed him for a moment, and the burning torrent of his wordswas still. In the rush and clamour of the new ideas, in the immeasurablevastness of the conception, speech would not go on. Then he started, andhis face grew paler than before. "Forgive me," he said, "forgive me if Iseem to doubt. It is all so incredibly wonderful. But you have really_done_ this, Sir William? You are not merely hoping to do it some day?You are not merely advancing along the road which may some day lead toit?"

  "I have actually done it, Mr. Megbie, completely, utterly, certainly.And in a few days you shall judge for yourself. But it is certain."

  "But it is infinite in its possibilities!" the journalist went on."Another thing that I see quite clearly will result is this. The rightman in the right place will be an accomplished fact in the future. Weshall find out early in the life of a child exactly in what directionits true power lies. To-day we find that circumstance and the mistakesof parents and guardians are constantly putting children into walks oflife for which they are not in the least fitted. The result is adreadful waste of power. We see on every side clergymen who ought to bebusiness men, business men who ought to be painters or musicians, clerkswho are bad clerks, but who would make excellent soldiers. Yourmarvellous discovery will change all this for ever. Every day thegrowing brain of the child will be tested. We shall find out exactlywhat its true thoughts are; children will cease to be inarticulate andunable to give us a true idea of themselves as they so often are atpresent. Teaching will become an exact science, because everyschoolmaster will be able to find out how much his teaching isappreciated and understood, and how little, as the case may be. And weshall discover other and even more portentous secrets! We shall knowwhat is passing in the minds of the dying who cannot speak to us! Weshall know the truth about a future state, inasmuch as we shall be ableto find out whether the mind does indeed receive warnings and hintingsof the other world at the moment of passing! Then, also, I suppose thatwe shall be able to penetrate into a world that has been closed to ussince the human species began! We shall know at last in what strange wayanimals think! The pictures that pass into the brain of the dog, thehorse, the tiger, through the physical eyes, will be made clear for usto see! We shall wrest his
secret from the eagle and see the memories ofthe primeval forest which linger in the minds of the jaguar and ape!"

  The little fountain in the centre of the conservatory tinkled merrily.The electric bulbs in the glass roof shed a soft light upon the broadgreen leaves of the tropical plants, which seemed as if they had beencunningly japanned. Two men in modern evening dress sat talkingtogether, while distant sounds of talk and laughter floated in to themfrom the great and fashionable drawing-rooms beyond. It was an ordinarypicture enough, and to the superficial eye one without specialsignificance or meaning.

  Yet, at that moment and in that place, a stupendous revelation was beingmade. A tale which the wildest imagination would have hesitated to givea place in the mind was being poured into the ears of one who was themouthpiece of the public. To-morrow all the world would be thinking thethoughts, experiencing the same mental disturbance, that Donald Megbiewas experiencing now. The cables would be flashing the news through vastcities and over the beds of mighty oceans to the furthest corner of thehabitable globe.

  Megbie realized something of this. "I feel my responsibility veryacutely," he said. "You have put into my hands one of the greatestchances that any writer for the public press has ever had. Before Ibegin to write anything, I must be alone to think things over. You maywell imagine how all this has startled me. For the thinking man italmost has an element of terror. One feels an awe that may in any momentchange to fear! When I first saw Mount Blanc I felt as I do now."

  Sir William gazed keenly at his companion. Megbie was obviouslyunstrung. It was curious to see how this revelation had gripped andinfluenced the keen, cool-headed man of the world, curious and full of athrill, exquisite in its sense of power and dominion. The tall figure ofthe scientist towered over that of the other man. Gouldesbrough hadrisen, the usual reserve of his manner had dropped away from him, andgreat tides of exultation seemed to carry him swiftly and irresistiblyto the very heart of human things. During the long years of experimentand toil, Gouldesbrough had occasionally known these moments of savageecstasy. But never had he known a moment so poignant, so supreme asthis. As he stood there the thought came to him that he alone stoodapart from all created men in the supremacy of intellect, in the majestyof an utter sovereignty over the minds of mankind.

  The rush of furious emotion mastered him for a moment, so terrible wasit in its intensity and strength.

  "Yes," he cried, with a wild gesture of his arm and in a high vibratingvoice. "Yes! You are right! You have said what all the world is aboutto say. I have stormed the heights of the unknown! The secrets of allmen's hearts are mine, and I claim an absolute knowledge of the soul,even as God claims it!"

  Megbie started from his reverie. He stared at the tall, swaying figurewith fascinated eyes as he heard the bold and terrible words. Was it notthus that Lucifer himself had spoken in Milton's mighty poem?

  And how had the star of the morning fallen?

  Once more the thought flashed into his mind that there was something ofmadness in those blazing eyes. However great things this man had done,were not these words of tremendous arrogance the symptom of a braindestined to blaze up for a moment in mighty triumph and then to passinto the dark?

  Who could say? Who could tell?

  Suddenly Megbie realized that Sir William was speaking in an ordinaryvoice.

  "Forgive me," he was saying quietly, and with a half laugh. "I'm afraidI let myself go for a moment. It's not a thing I often do, you know; butyou were so appreciative. Now you will please let me run away. I amafraid I have already been here too long. I have promised to take MissPoole in to supper."

  He shook hands and walked hurriedly away.

  Megbie sat where he was for a few moments longer. He intended to leavethe house quietly and go home to his chambers in the Temple, perhapslooking in at one of his clubs on the way. He did not want theinnumerable questions, the pressure of the curious, which he knew wouldbe his lot if he remained any longer in Portland Place. His mind was ina whirl, entire solitude would alone enable him to collect his thoughts.

  He rose to leave the conservatory, when he saw something bright upon thechair on which Sir William Gouldesbrough had been sitting. It was acigarette-case.

  Megbie realized that Gouldesbrough had forgotten it. Being unwilling toseek out the scientist, Megbie put the case into his pocket, meaning tosend it round to Sir William's house in the morning. Then he wentswiftly into the hall, and managed to get away out of the house withoutbeing questioned or stopped.

  It was a clear, bright night. There was less smoke about in the sky thanusual, and the swift motion of the hansom cab was exhilarating. Howfortunate Sir William was! so the journalist thought, as he was driventhrough the lighted streets. He stood upon a supreme pinnacle of fame,and beautiful Marjorie Poole--a girl to make any man happy--was beingkind to him again. The romantic and mysterious Rathbone incident wasover and done with. Miss Poole's fancy for the young barrister must haveonly been a passing one. But what a dark and mysterious business it hadall been!

  Megbie had known Guy Rathbone a little. He had often met him in theTemple, and he had liked the bright and capable young fellow.

  For a moment the writer contrasted the lot of two men--the one he hadjust left, great, brilliant, and happy; the other, whom he had known inthe past, now faded utterly away into impenetrable dark.

  He sighed. Then he thought that a cigarette would be refreshing. Hefound he had no cigarettes of his own, but his fingers touched the caseSir William had left behind him in the conservatory.

  Good! there would be sure to be cigarettes in the case.

  He drew it out and opened it. There were two cigarettes in one of thecompartments.

  But it was not the sight of the two little tubes of paper that made thewriter's eyes dilate and turned his face grey with sudden fear. Cutdeeply into the silver he saw this--

  GUY RATHBONE, INNER TEMPLE, LONDON, E.C.