<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></SPAN>CHAPTER II</h2>
<p>Whether it was our excursion upon the canal
that was responsible for it I cannot say; the fact,
however, remains, that next morning every
member of our party was late for breakfast. My
wife and I were the first to put in an appearance,
Glenbarth followed shortly after, and Miss Trevor
was last of all. It struck me that the girl
looked a little pale as she approached the window
to bid me good-morning, and as she prided
herself upon her punctuality, I jestingly reproved
her for her late rising.</p>
<p>"I am afraid your gondola excursion proved
too much for you," I said, in a bantering tone,
"or perhaps you dreamt of Doctor Nikola."</p>
<p>I expected her to declare in her usual vehement
fashion that she would not waste her time
dreaming of any man, but to my combined
astonishment and horror her eyes filled with
tears, until she was compelled to turn her head
away in order to hide them from me. It was
all so unexpected that I did not know what to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</SPAN></span>
think. As may be supposed, I had not the
slightest intention of giving her pain, nor could
I quite see how I managed to do so. It was
plain, however, that my thoughtless speech had
been the means of upsetting her, and I was
heartily sorry for my indiscretion. Fortunately
my wife had not overheard what had passed
between us.</p>
<p>"Is he teasing you again, Gertrude?" she
said, as she slipped her arm through her friend's.
"Take my advice and have nothing to do with
him. Treat him with contempt. Besides, the
coffee is getting cold, and that is a very much more
important matter. Let us sit down to breakfast."</p>
<p>Nothing could have been more opportune.
We took our places at the table, and by the time
the servant had handed the first dishes Miss
Trevor had recovered herself sufficiently to be
able to look me in the face, and to join in the
conversation without the likelihood of a catastrophe.
Still there could be no doubt that she
was far from being in a happy frame of mind.
I said as much to my wife afterwards, when we
were alone together.</p>
<p>"She told me she had had a very bad night,"
the little woman replied. "Our meeting with
Doctor Nikola yesterday on the piazza upset
her for some reason or another. She said
that she had dreamt of nothing else. As you<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</SPAN></span>
know she is very highly strung, and when
you think of the descriptions we have given
her of him, it is scarcely to be wondered
at that she should attach an exaggerated
importance to our unexpected meeting with
him. That is the real explanation of the mystery.
One thing, however, is quite certain; in her
present state of mind she must see no more of
him than can be helped. It might upset her
altogether. Oh, why did he come here to spoil
our holiday?"</p>
<p>"I cannot see that he has spoilt it, my dear,"
I returned, putting my arm round her waist
and leading her to the window. "The girl
will very soon recover from her fit of depression,
and afterwards will be as merry as a marriage-bell.
By the way, I don't know why I should
think of it just now, but talking of marriage-bells
reminds me that Glenbarth told me last
night that he thought Gertrude one of the
nicest girls he had ever met."</p>
<p>"I am delighted to hear it," my wife answered.
"And still more delighted to think that he has
such good sense. Do you know, I have set my
heart upon that coming to something. No! you
needn't shake your head. For very many
reasons it would be a most desirable match."</p>
<p>"For my own part I believe it was for
no other reason that you bothered me into<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</SPAN></span>
inviting him to join our party here. You are a
matchmaker. I challenge you to refute the
accusation."</p>
<p>"I shall not attempt to do so," she retorted
with considerable hauteur. "It is always a
waste of time to argue with you. At any rate
you must agree with me that Gertrude would
make an ideal duchess."</p>
<p>"So you have travelled as far as that, have
you?" I inquired. "I must say that you jump
to conclusions very quickly. Because Glenbarth
happens to have said in confidence to me (a
confidence I am willing to admit I have shamefully
abused) that he considers Gertrude Trevor a
very charming girl, it does not follow that he
has the very slightest intention of asking her to
be his wife. Why should he?"</p>
<p>"If he doesn't he is not fit to sit in the House
of Lords," she answered, as if that ought to clinch
the argument. "Fancy a man posing as one of
our hereditary legislators who doesn't know how
to seize such a golden opportunity. As a good
churchwoman I pray for the nobility every Sunday
morning; and if not knowing where to look
for the best wife in the world may be taken as
a weakness, and it undoubtedly is, then all I can
say is, that they require all the praying for they
can get!"</p>
<p>"But I should like to know, how is he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</SPAN></span>
going to marry the best wife in the world?" I
asked.</p>
<p>"By asking her," she retorted. "He doesn't
surely suppose she is going to ask him?"</p>
<p>"If he values his life he'd better not do that!"
I said savagely. "He will have to answer for it
to me if he does!"</p>
<p>"Ah," she answered, her lips curling, "I
thought as much. You are jealous of him. You
don't want him to ask her because you fancy
that if he does your reign will be over. A nice
admission for a married man, I must say!"</p>
<p>"I presume you mean because I refuse to
allow him to flirt with my wife?"</p>
<p>"I mean nothing of the kind, and you know
it. How dare you say, Dick, that I flirt with the
Duke?"</p>
<p>"Because you have confessed it," I answered
with a grin of triumph, for I had got her
cornered at last. "Did you not say, only a
moment ago, that if he did not know where to
find the best wife in the world he was unfit to
sit in the House of Lords? Did you not say that
he ought to be ashamed of himself if he did
not ask her to be his wife? Answer that, my
lady."</p>
<p>"I admit that I did say it; but you know very
well that I referred to Gertrude Trevor!"</p>
<p>"Gertrude Trevor is not yet a wife. The best<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</SPAN></span>
wife in the world is beside me now; and since
you are already proved to be in the wrong you
must perforce pay the penalty."</p>
<p>She was in the act of doing so when Gertrude
entered the room.</p>
<p>"Oh, dear," she began, hesitating in pretended
consternation, "is there never to be an end
of it?"</p>
<p>"An end of what?" demanded my wife with
some little asperity, for she does not like her
little endearments to be witnessed by other
people.</p>
<p>"Of this billing and cooing," the other replied.
"You two insane creatures have been married
more than four years, and yet a third person can
never enter the room without finding you love-making.
I declare it upsets all one's theories of
marriage. One of my most cherished ideas was
that this sort of thing ceased with the honeymoon,
and that the couple invariably lead a
cat-and-dog life for the remainder of their
existence."</p>
<p>"So they do," my wife answered unblushingly.
"And what can you expect when one is a
great silly creature who will not learn to jump
away and be looking innocently out of the
window when he hears the handle turned?
Never marry, Gertrude. Mark my words: you
will repent it if you do!"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Well, for ingratitude and cool impudence,
that surpasses everything!" I said in astonishment.
"Why, you audacious creature, not more
than five minutes ago you were inviting me to
co-operate in the noble task of finding a husband
for Miss Trevor!"</p>
<p>"Richard, how can you stand there and say
such things?" she ejaculated. "Gertrude, my
dear, I insist that you come away at once. I
don't know what he will say next."</p>
<p>Miss Trevor laughed.</p>
<p>"I like to hear you two squabbling," she said.
"Please go on, it amuses me!"</p>
<p>"Yes, I will certainly go on," I returned.
"Perhaps you heard her declare that she fears
what I may say next. Of course she does. Allow
me to tell you, Lady Hatteras, that you are
a coward. If the truth were known, it would
be found that you are trembling in your shoes
at this moment. For two centimes, paid down,
I would turn Queen's evidence, and reveal the
whole plot."</p>
<p>"You had better not, sir," she replied, shaking
a warning finger at me. "In that case the
letters from home shall be withheld from you, and
you will not know how your son and heir is
progressing."</p>
<p>"I capitulate," I answered. "Threatened by
such awful punishment I dare say no more.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</SPAN></span>
Miss Gertrude, will you not intercede for
me?"</p>
<p>"I think that you scarcely deserve it," she
retorted. "Even now you are keeping something
back from me."</p>
<p>"Never mind, my dear, we'll let him off this
time with a caution," said my wife, "provided
he promises not to offend again. And now let
us settle what we are going to do to-day."</p>
<p>When this important matter had been arranged,
it was reported to us that the ladies were to spend
the morning shopping, leaving the Duke and myself
free to follow our own inclinations. Accordingly,
when we had seen them safely on their way
to the Merceria, we held a smoking council to
arrange how we should pass the hours until lunch-time.
As we discovered afterwards, we both had
a certain thought in our minds, which for some
reason we scarcely liked to broach to each other.
It was settled, however, just as we desired, but
in a fashion we least expected.</p>
<p>We were seated in the balcony outside our
room, watching the animated traffic on the Grand
Canal below, when a servant came in search of
us and handed me a note. One glance at the
characteristic writing was sufficient to show me
that it was from Doctor Nikola. I opened it
with an eagerness that I did not attempt to
conceal, and read as follows<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</SPAN></span>—</p>
<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Hatteras</span>,</p>
<p>"If you have nothing more important
on hand this morning, can you spare the time to
come and see me? As I understand the Duke
of Glenbarth is with you, will you not bring him
also? It will be very pleasant to have a chat
upon by-gone days, and, what is more, I fancy
this old house will interest you.</p>
<p class="midind">
"Yours very truly,</p>
<p class="deepind">"<span class="smcap">Nikola</span>."<br/></p>
</blockquote>
<p>"What do you say?" I inquired, when I had
finished reading, "shall we go?"</p>
<p>"Let us do so by all means," the Duke replied.
"It will be very interesting to meet Nikola once
more. There is one thing, however, that
puzzles me; how did he become aware of my
arrival in Venice? You say he was with you on
the piazza last night, so that he could not have
been at the railway station, and as I haven't been
outside since I came, except for the row after
dinner, I confess it puzzles me."</p>
<p>"You should know by this time that it is
useless to wonder how Nikola acquires his knowledge,"
I replied. "For my own part I should
like to discover <i>his</i> reason for being in Venice.
I am very curious on that point."</p>
<p>Glenbarth shook his head solemnly.</p>
<p>"If Nikola does not want us to know," he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</SPAN></span>
argued, "we shall leave his house as wise as we
entered it. If he <i>does</i> let us know, I shall begin
to grow suspicious, for in that case it is a
thousand pounds to this half-smoked cigar that
we shall be called upon to render him assistance.
However, if you are prepared to run the risk I
will do so also."</p>
<p>"In that case," I said, rising from my chair
and tossing what remained of my cigar into the
water below, "let us get ready and be off. We
may change our minds."</p>
<p>Ten minutes later we had chartered a gondola
and were on our way to the Palace Revecce.</p>
<p>As a general rule when one sets out to pay a
morning call one is not the victim of any
particular nervousness; on this occasion however
both Glenbarth and I, as we confessed to each
other afterwards, were distinctly conscious of
being in a condition which would be described
by persons of mature years as an unpleasant
state of expectancy, but which by school-boys
is denominated "funk." The Duke, I noticed,
fidgeted with his cigar, allowed it to go out, and
then sat with it in his mouth unlighted. There
was a far-away look on his handsome face that
told me that he was recalling some of the events
connected with the time when he had been in
Nikola's company. This proved to be the case,
for as we turned from the Grand Canal into<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</SPAN></span>
the street in which the palace is situated, he
said—</p>
<p>"By the way, Hatteras, I wonder what became
of Baxter, Prendergrast, and those other fellows?"</p>
<p>"Nikola may be able to tell us," I answered.
Then I added after a short pause, "By Jove,
what strange times those were."</p>
<p>"Not half so strange to my thinking as our
finding Nikola in Venice," Glenbarth replied.
"That is the coincidence that astonishes me.
But see, here we are."</p>
<p>As he spoke the gondola drew up at the steps
of the Palace Revecce, and we prepared to step
ashore. As we did so I noticed that the armorial
bearings of the family still decorated the posts on
either side of the door, but by the light of day
the palace did not look nearly so imposing as
it had done by moonlight the night before.
One thing about it was certainly peculiar.
When we ordered the gondolier to wait for
us he shook his head. Not for anything would
he remain there longer than was necessary to set
us down. I accordingly paid him off, and
when we had ascended the steps we entered
the building. On pushing open the door we
found ourselves standing in a handsome courtyard,
in the centre of which was a well, its
coping elegantly carved with a design of fruit and
flowers. A broad stone staircase at the further<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</SPAN></span>
end led up to the floor above, but this, as was
the case with everything else, showed unmistakable
signs of having been allowed to fall to
decay. As no concierge was to be seen, and
there was no one in sight of whom we might
make inquiries, we scarcely knew how to proceed.
Indeed, we were just wondering whether we
should take our chance and explore the lower
regions in search of Nikola, when he appeared
at the head of the staircase and greeted us.</p>
<p>"Good-morning," he said, "pray come up. I
must apologize for not having been down-stairs
to receive you."</p>
<p>By the time he had finished speaking he had
reached us, and was shaking hands with Glenbarth
with the heartiness of an old friend.</p>
<p>"Let me offer you a hearty welcome to
Venice," he said to Glenbarth after he had
shaken hands with myself. Then looking at him
once more, he added, "If you will permit me
to say so, you have changed a great deal since
we last saw each other."</p>
<p>"And you, scarcely at all," Glenbarth replied.</p>
<p>"It is strange that I should not have done so,"
Nikola answered, I thought a little sadly, "for I
think I may say without any fear of boasting
that, since we parted at Pipa Lannu, I have
passed through sufficient to change a dozen men.
But we will not talk of that here. Let us come<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</SPAN></span>
up to my room, which is the only place in
this great house that is in the least degree
comfortable."</p>
<p>So saying he led the way up the stairs, and
then along a corridor, which had once been
beautifully frescoed, but which was now sadly
given over to damp and decay. At last,
reaching a room in the front of the building,
he threw open the door and invited us to
enter. And here I might digress for a moment
to remark, that of all the men I have ever
met, Nikola possessed the faculty of being
able to make himself comfortable wherever he
might be, in the greatest degree. He would
have been at home anywhere. As a matter of
fact this particular apartment was furnished in
a style that caused me considerable surprise.
The room itself was large and lofty, while the
walls were beautifully frescoed, the work of one
Andrea Bunopelli, of whom I shall have more
to say anon. The furniture was simple, but
extremely good; a massive oak writing-table
stood beside one wall, another covered with
books and papers was opposite it, several easy-chairs
were placed here and there, another
table in the centre of the room supported
various chemical paraphernalia, while books of
all sorts and descriptions, in all languages and
bindings, were to be discovered in every direction.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"After what you have seen of the rest of the
house, this strikes you as being more homelike,
does it not?" Nikola inquired, as he noticed the
look of astonishment upon our faces. "It is a
queer old place, and the more I see of it the
stranger it becomes. Some time ago, and quite
by chance, I became acquainted with its history;
I do not mean the political history of the respective
families that have occupied it; you can find
that in any guide-book. I mean the real, inner
history of the house itself, embracing not a few
of the deeds which have taken place inside its
walls. I wonder if you would be interested if I
were to tell you that in this very room, in the
year fifteen hundred and eleven, one of the
most repellent and cold-blooded murders of the
Middle Ages took place. Perhaps now that you
have the scene before you you would like to hear
the story. You would? In that case pray sit
down. Let me offer you this chair, Duke," he
continued, and as he spoke he wheeled forward a
handsomely carved chair from beside his writing-table.
"Here, Hatteras, is one for you. I myself
will take up my position here, so that I may
be better able to retain your attention for my
narrative."</p>
<p>So saying he stood between us on the strip
of polished floor which showed between two
heavy oriental rugs.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"For some reasons," he began, "I regret that
the story I have to tell should run upon such
familiar lines. I fancy, however, that the <i>dénouement</i>
will prove sufficiently original to merit
your attention. The year fifteen hundred and
nine, the same which found the French victorious
at Agnadello, and the Venetian Republic at
the commencement of that decline from which
it has never recovered, saw this house in its
glory. The owner, the illustrious Francesco
del Revecce, was a sailor, and had the honour
of commanding one of the many fleets of the
Republic. He was an ambitious man, a good
fighter, and as such twice defeated the fleet of
the League of Camberi. It was after the last
of these victories that he married the beautiful
daughter of the Duke of Levano, one of the most
bitter enemies of the Council of Ten. The
husband being rich, famous, and still young
enough to be admired for his personal attractions;
the bride one of the wealthiest, as well as one of
the most beautiful women in the Republic, it
appeared as if all must be well with them for the
remainder of their lives. A series of dazzling
<i>fêtes</i>, to which all the noblest and most distinguished
of the city were invited, celebrated
their nuptials and their possession of this house.
Yet with it all the woman was perhaps the most
unhappy individual in the universe. Unknown to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</SPAN></span>
her husband and her father she had long since
given her love elsewhere; she was passionately
attached to young Andrea Bunopelli, the man
by whom the frescoes of this room were painted.
Finding that Fate demanded her renunciation of
Bunopelli, and her marriage to Revecce, she
resolved to see no more of the man to whom she
had given her heart. Love, however, proved
stronger than her sense of duty, and while her
husband, by order of the Senate, had put
to sea once more in order to drive back the
French, who were threatening the Adriatic,
Bunopelli put into operation the scheme that
was ultimately to prove their mutual undoing.
Unfortunately for Revecce he was not successful
in his venture, and by and by news reached
Venice that his fleet had been destroyed, and
that he himself had been taken prisoner.
'Now,' said the astute Bunopelli, 'is the time to
act.' He accordingly took pens, paper, and his
ink-horn, and in this very room concocted a
letter which purported to bear the signature of
the commander of the French forces, into whose
hands the Venetian admiral had fallen and then
was. Its meaning was plain enough. It proved
that for a large sum of money Revecce had
agreed to surrender the Venetian fleet, and, in
order to secure his own safety, in case the
Republic should lay hands on him afterwards,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</SPAN></span>
it was to be supposed that he himself had only
been taken prisoner after a desperate resistance,
as had really been the case. The letter was
written, and that night the painter himself
dropped it into the lion's mouth. Revecce
might return now as soon as he pleased. His
fate was prepared for him. Meanwhile the
guilty pair spent the time as happily as was
possible under the circumstances, knowing full
well that should the man against whom they
had plotted return to Venice, it would only be
to find himself arrested, and with the certainty,
on the evidence of the incriminating letter, of
being immediately condemned to death. Weeks
and months went by. At last Revecce,
worn almost to a skeleton by reason of his long
imprisonment, <i>did</i> manage to escape. In the
guise of a common fisherman he returned to
Venice; reached his own house, where a faithful
servant recognized him and admitted him to the
palace. From the latter's lips he learnt all that
had transpired during his absence, and was informed
of the villainous plot that had been
prepared against him. His wrath knew no
bounds; but with it all he was prudent. He
was aware that if his presence in the city were
discovered, nothing could save him from arrest.
He accordingly hid himself in his own house and
watched the course of events. What he saw<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</SPAN></span>
was sufficient to confirm his worst suspicion.
His wife was unfaithful to him, and her paramour
was the man to whom he had been so kind a
friend, and so generous a benefactor. Then
when the time was ripe, assisted only by his
servant, the same who had admitted him to his
house, he descended upon the unhappy couple.
Under threats of instant death he extorted from
them a written confession of their treachery.
After having made them secure, he departed for
the council-chamber and demanded to be heard.
He was the victim of a conspiracy, he declared,
and to prove that what he said was true he
produced the confession he had that day
obtained. He had many powerful friends, and
by their influence an immediate pardon was
granted him, while permission was also given
him to deal with his enemies as he might
consider most desirable. He accordingly returned
to this house with a scheme he was
prepared to put into instant execution. It is
not a pretty story, but it certainly lends an
interest to this room. The painter he imprisoned
here."</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i002" name="i002"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i002.jpg" alt="i002" /> <p class="caption">"He pressed a spring in the wall."</p> </div>
<p>So saying Nikola stooped and drew back one of
the rugs to which I have already referred. The
square outline of a trap-door showed itself in the
floor. He pressed a spring in the wall behind
him, and the lid shot back, swung round, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</SPAN></span>
disappeared, showing the black abyss below. A
smell of damp vaults came up to us. Then, when
he had closed the trap-door again, Nikola drew
the carpet back to its old position.</p>
<p>"The wretched man died slowly of starvation
in that hole, and the woman, living in this room
above, was compelled to listen to his agony without
being permitted the means of saving him.
Can you imagine the scene? The dying wretch
below, doing his best to die like a man in order
not to distress the woman he loved, and the
outraged husband calmly pursuing his studies,
regardless of both."</p>
<p>He looked from one to the other of us and his
eyes burnt like living coals.</p>
<p>"It was brutish, it was hellish," cried Glenbarth,
upon whom either the story, or Nikola's
manner of narrating it, had produced an extraordinary
effect. "Why did the woman allow it
to continue? Was she mad that she did not
summon assistance? Surely the Authorities of
a State which prided itself upon its enlightenment,
even in those dark ages, would not have
tolerated such a thing?"</p>
<p>"You must bear in mind the fact that the
Republic had given the husband permission to
avenge his wrongs," said Nikola very quietly.
"Besides, the woman could not cry out for the
reason that her tongue had been torn out at the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</SPAN></span>
roots. When both were dead their bodies were
tied together and thrown into the canal, and
the same day Revecce set sail again, to ultimately
perish in a storm off the coast of Sicily. Now
you know one of the many stories connected with
this old room. There are others in which that
trap-door has played an equally important part.
I fear, however, none of them can boast so
dramatic a setting as that I have just narrated
to you."</p>
<p>"How, knowing all this, you can live in the
house passes my comprehension," gasped Glenbarth.
"I don't think I am a coward, but I tell
you candidly that I would not spend a night here,
after what you have told me, for anything the
world could give me."</p>
<p>"But surely you don't suppose that what
happened in this room upwards of three hundred
years ago could have any effect upon a living
being to-day?" said Nikola, with what I could
not help thinking was a double meaning. "Let
me tell you, that far from being unpleasant it
has decided advantages. As a matter of fact it
gives me the opportunity of being free to do what
I like. That is my greatest safeguard. I can go
away for five years, if I please, and leave the
most valuable of my things lying about, and
come back to the discovery that nothing is
missing. I am not pestered by tourists who ask<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</SPAN></span>
to see the frescoes, for the simple reason that
the guides take very good care not to tell
them the legend of the house, lest they may
be called upon to take them over it. Many
of the gondoliers will not stop here after nightfall,
and the few who are brave enough to do so,
invariably cross themselves before reaching, and
after leaving it."</p>
<p>"I do not wonder at it," I said. "Taken
altogether it is the most dismal dwelling I have
ever set foot in. Do you mean to tell me that
you live alone in it?"</p>
<p>"Not entirely," he replied. "I have companions:
an old man who comes in once a day to
attend to my simple wants, and my ever-faithful
friend——"</p>
<p>"Apollyon," I cried, forestalling what he was
about to say.</p>
<p>"Exactly, Apollyon. I am glad to see that
you remember him."</p>
<p>He uttered a low whistle, and a moment later
the great beast that I remembered so well stalked
solemnly into the room, and began to rub himself
against the leg of his master's chair.</p>
<p>"Poor old fellow," continued Nikola, picking
him up and gently stroking him, "he is growing
very feeble. Perhaps it is not to be wondered
at, for he is already far past the average age of
the feline race. He has been in many strange<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</SPAN></span>
places, and has seen many queer things since last
we met, but never anything much stranger than
he has witnessed in this room."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" I inquired. "What
has the cat seen in this room that is so
strange?"</p>
<p>"Objects that we are not yet permitted to see,"
Nikola answered gravely. "When all is quiet
at night, and I am working at that table, he lies
curled up in yonder chair. For a time he will
sleep contentedly, then I see him lift his head
and watch something, or somebody, I cannot say
which, moving about in the room. At first I
came to the conclusion that it must be a bat,
or some night bird, but that theory exploded.
Bats do not remain at the same exact distance
from the floor, nor do they stand stationary
behind a man's chair for any length of time.
The hour will come, however, when it will be
possible for us to see these things; I am on the
track even now."</p>
<p>Had I not known Nikola, and if I had not
remembered some very curious experiments he
had performed for my special benefit two years
before, I should have inclined to the belief that
he was boasting. I knew him too well, however,
to deem it possible that he would waste his time
in such an idle fashion.</p>
<p>"Do you mean to say," I asked, "that you<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</SPAN></span>
really think that in time it will be possible for us
to see things which at present we have no notion
of? That we shall be able to look into the
world we have always been taught to consider
Unknowable?"</p>
<p>"I do mean it," he replied. "And though you
may scarcely believe it, it was for the sake of the
information necessary to that end that I pestered
Mr. Wetherall in Sydney, imprisoned you in Port
Said, and carried the lady, who is now your wife,
away to the island in the South Seas."</p>
<p>"This is most interesting," I said, while Glenbarth
drew his chair a little closer.</p>
<p>"Pray tell us some of your adventures since
we last saw you," he put in. "You may imagine
how eager we are to hear."</p>
<p>Thereupon Nikola furnished us with a detailed
description of all that he had been through since
that momentous day when he had obtained
possession of the stick that had been bequeathed
to Mr. Wetherall by China Pete. He told us
how, armed with this talisman, he had set out
for China, where he engaged a man named Bruce,
who must have been as plucky as Nikola himself,
and together they started off in search of an almost
unknown monastery in Thibet. He described
with a wealth of exciting detail the perilous
adventures they had passed through, and how near
they had been to losing their lives in attempting<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</SPAN></span>
to obtain possession of a certain curious book in
which were set forth the most wonderful secrets
relating to the laws of Life and Death. He told
us of their hair-breadth escapes on the journey back
to civilization, and showed how they were
followed to England by a mysterious Chinaman,
whose undoubted mission was to avenge the
robbery, and to obtain possession of the book.
At this moment he paused, and I found an
opportunity of asking him whether he had the
book in his possession now.</p>
<p>"Would you care to see it?" he inquired. "If
so, I will show it to you."</p>
<p>On our answering in the affirmative he crossed
to his writing-table, unlocked a drawer, and
took from it a small curiously bound book, the
pages of which were yellow with age, and the
writing so faded that it was almost impossible
to decipher it.</p>
<p>"And now that you have plotted and planned,
and suffered so much to obtain possession of this
book, what use has it been to you?" I inquired,
with almost a feeling of awe, for it seemed impossible
that a man could have endured so much
for so trifling a return.</p>
<p>"In dabbling with such matters," Nikola returned,
"one of the first lessons one learns is not to
expect immediate results. There is the collected
wisdom of untold ages in that little volume, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</SPAN></span>
when I have mastered the secret it contains, I
shall, like the eaters of the forbidden fruit,
possess a knowledge of all things, Good and Evil."</p>
<p>Replacing the book in the drawer he continued
his narrative, told us of his great attempt
to probe the secret of Existence, and explained
to us his endeavour to put new life into a body
already worn out by age.</p>
<p>"I was unsuccessful in what I set out to accomplish,"
he said, "but I advanced so far that I
was able to restore the man his youth again.
What I failed to do was to give him the power
of thought or will. It was the brain that was
too much for me, that vital part of man without
which he is nothing. When I have mastered
that secret I shall try again, and then, perhaps,
I shall succeed. But there is much to be accomplished
first. Only I know how much!"</p>
<p>I looked at him in amazement. Was he jesting,
or did he really suppose that it was possible
for him, or any other son of man, to restore
youth, and by so doing to prolong life perpetually?
Yet he spoke with all his usual earnestness,
and seemed as convinced of the truth of
what he said as if he were narrating some well-known
fact. I did not know what to think.</p>
<p>At last, seeing the bewilderment on our faces,
I suppose, he smiled, and rising from his chair
reminded us that if we had been bored we had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</SPAN></span>
only ourselves to thank for it. He accordingly
changed the conversation by inquiring whether
we had made any arrangements for that evening.
I replied that so far as I knew we had not,
whereupon he came forward with a proposition.</p>
<p>"In that case," said he, "if you will allow me
to act as your guide to Venice, I think I could
show you a side of the city you have never seen
before. I know her as thoroughly as any man
living, and I think I may safely promise that
your party will spend an interesting couple of
hours. What have you to say to my proposal?"</p>
<p>"I am quite sure we shall be delighted," I
replied, though not without certain misgivings.
"But I think I had better not decide until I have
seen my wife. If she has made no other arrangements,
at what hour shall we start?"</p>
<p>"At what time do you dine?" he inquired.</p>
<p>"At seven o'clock," I replied. "Perhaps we
might be able to persuade you to give us the
pleasure of your company?"</p>
<p>"I thank you," he answered. "I fear I must
decline, however. I am hermit-like in my habits
so far as meals are concerned. If you will allow
me I will call for you, shall we say at half-past
eight? The moon will have risen by that time,
and we should spend a most enjoyable evening."</p>
<p>"At half-past eight," I said, "unless you hear
to the contrary," and then rose from my chair.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</SPAN></span>
Glenbarth followed my example, and we accordingly
bade Nikola good-bye. Despite our protest,
he insisted on accompanying us down the
great staircase to the courtyard below, his terrible
cat following close upon his heels. Hailing
a gondola, we bade the man take us back to our
hotel. For some minutes after we had said
good-bye to Nikola we sat in silence as the boat
skimmed over the placid water.</p>
<p>"Well, what is your opinion of Nikola now?"
I said, as we turned from the Rio del Consiglio
into the Grand Canal once more. "Has he grown
any more commonplace, think you, since you last
saw him?"</p>
<p>"On the contrary, he is stranger than ever,"
Glenbarth replied. "I have never met any other
man who resembled him in the slightest degree.
What a ghastly story that was! His dramatic
telling of it made it appear so real that towards
the end of it I was almost convinced that I
could hear the groans of the poor wretch in the
pit below, and see the woman wringing her hands
and moaning in the room in which we were
sitting. Why he should have told it to us is
what I cannot understand, neither can I make
out what his reasons can be for living in that
house."</p>
<p>"Nikola's actions are like himself, entirely
inexplicable," he answered. "But that he has<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</SPAN></span>
some motive beyond the desire he expressed for
peace and quiet, I have not the shadow of a
doubt."</p>
<p>"And now with regard to to-night," said the
Duke, I am afraid a little pettishly. "I was surprised
when you accepted his offer. Do you
think Lady Hatteras and Miss Trevor will care
about such an excursion?"</p>
<p>"That is a question I cannot answer at present,"
I replied. "We must leave it to them to decide.
For my own part, I can scarcely imagine anything
more interesting."</p>
<p>When we reached Galaghetti's I informed my
wife and Miss Trevor of Nikola's offer, half expecting
that the latter, from the manner in which
she had behaved at the mere mention of his name
that morning, would decline to accompany us, and,
therefore, that the excursion would fall through.
To my surprise, however, she did nothing of
the kind. She fell in with the idea at once, and,
so far as we could see, without reluctance of any
kind.</p>
<p>There was nothing for it, therefore, under these
circumstances, but for me to fall back upon the
old commonplace, and declare that women are
difficult creatures to understand.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</SPAN></span></p>
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