Part 12 (1/2)

”There's an extraordinary gentleman to see you, sir,” said the new man.

”Why ”extraordinary”? asked Dr. Silence, drawing the tips of his thin fingers through his brown beard. His eyes twinkled pleasantly. ”Why 'extraordinary,' Barker?” he repeated encouragingly, noticing the perplexed expression in the man's eyes.

”He's so-so thin, sir. I could hardly see 'im at all-at first. He was inside the house before I could ask the name, he added, remembering strict orders.

”And who brought him here?”

”He come alone, sir, in a closed cab. He pushed by me before I could say a word-making no noise not what I could hear. He seemed to move very softa””

The man stopped short with obvious embarra.s.sment, as though he had already said enough to jeopardise his new situation, but trying hard to show that he remembered the instructions and warnings he had received with regard to the admission of strangers not properly accredited.

”And where is the gentleman now?” asked Dr. Silence, turning away to conceal his amus.e.m.e.nt.

”I really couldn't exactly say, sir. I left him standing in the 'alla””

The doctor looked up sharply. ”But why in the hall, Barker? Why not in the waiting-room?” He fixed his piercing though kindly eyes on the man's face. ”Did he frighten you?” he asked quickly.

”I think he did, sir, if I may say so. I seemed to lose sight of him, as it werea”” The man stammered, evidently convinced by now that he had earned his dismissal. ”He come in so funny, just like a cold wind,” he added boldly, setting his heels at attention and looking his master full in the face.

The doctor made an internal note of the man's halting description; he was pleased that the slight evidence of intuition which had induced him to engage Barker had not entirely failed at the first trial. Dr. Silence sought for this qualification in all his a.s.sistants, from secretary to serving-man, and if it surrounded him with a somewhat singular crew, the drawbacks were more than compensated for on the whole by their occasional flashes of insight.

”So the gentleman made you feel queer, did he?”

”That was it, I think, sir,” repeated the man stolidly.

”And he brings no kind of introduction to me a” no letter or anything?” asked the doctor, with feigned surprise, as though he knew what was coming.

The man fumbled, both in mind and pockets, and finally produced an envelope.

”I beg pardon, sir,” he said, greatly fl.u.s.tered; ”the gentleman handed me this for you.”

It was a note from a discerning friend, who had never yet sent him a case that was not vitally interesting from one point or another.

”Please see the bearer of this note,” the brief message ran, ”though I doubt if even you can do much to help him.”

John Silence paused a moment, so as to gather from the mind of the writer all that lay behind the brief words of the letter. Then he looked up at his servant with a graver expression than he had yet worn.

”Go back and find this gentleman,” he said, ”and show him into the green study. Do not reply to his question, or speak more than actually necessary; but think kind, helpful, sympathetic thoughts as strongly as you can, Barker. You remember what I told you about the importance of thinking, when I engaged you. Put curiosity out of your mind, and think gently, sympathetically, affectionately, if you can.”

He smiled, and Barker, who had recovered his composure in the doctor's presence, bowed silently and went out.

There were two different reception rooms in Dr. Silence's house. One, intended for persons who imagined they needed spiritual a.s.sistance when really they were only candidates for the asylum, had padded walls, and was well supplied with various concealed contrivances by means of which sudden violence could be instantly met and overcome. It was, however, rarely used. The other, intended for the reception of genuine cases of spiritual distress and out-of-the-way afflictions of a psychic nature, was entirely draped and furnished in a soothing deep green, calculated to induce calmness and repose of mind. And this room was the one in which Dr. Silence interviewed the majority of his 'queer' cases, and the one into which he had directed Barker to show his present caller.

To begin with, the armchair in which the patient was always directed to sit was nailed to the floor, since its immovability tended to impart this same excellent characteristic to the occupant. Patients invariably grew excited when talking about themselves, and their excitement tended to confuse their thoughts and to exaggerate their language. The immobility of the chair helped to counteract this. After repeated endeavours to drag it forward, or push it back, they ended by resigning themselves to sitting quietly. And with the futility of fidgeting there followed a calmer state of mind.

Upon the floor, and at intervals in the wall immediately behind, were certain tiny green b.u.t.tons, practically unnoticeable, which on being pressed permitted a soothing and persuasive narcotic to rise invisibly about the occupant of the chair. The effect upon the excitable patient was rapid, admirable, and harmless. The green study was further provided with a secret spyhole; for John Silence liked when possible to observe his patient's face before it had a.s.sumed that mask the features of the human countenance invariably wear in the presence of another person. A man sitting alone wears a psychic expression; and this expression is the man himself. It disappears the moment another person joins him. And Dr. Silence often learned more from a few moments' secret observation of a face than from hours of conversation with its owner afterwards.

A very light, almost a dancing step followed Barker's heavy tread towards the green room, and a moment afterwards the man came in and announced that the gentleman was waiting. He was still pale and his manner nervous.

”Never mind, Barker,” the doctor said kindly; ”if you were not intuitive the man would have had no effect upon you at all. You only need training and development. And when you have learned to interpret these feelings and sensations better, you will feel no fear, but only a great sympathy.”

”Yes, sir; thank you, sir!” And Barker bowed and made his escape, while Dr. Silence, an amused smile lurking about the corners of his mouth, made his way noiselessly down the pa.s.sage and put his eye to the spy-hole in the door of the green study.

This spy-hole was so placed that it commanded a view of almost the entire room, and, looking through it, the doctor saw a hat, gloves, and umbrella lying on a chair by the table, but searched at first in vain for their owner.

The windows were both closed and a brisk fire burned in the grate. There were various signs a” signs intelligible at least to a keenly intuitive soul a” that the room was occupied, yet so far as human beings were concerned, it seemed undeniably empty. No one sat in the chairs; no one stood on the mat before the fire; there was no sign even that a patient was anywhere close against the wall, examining the Becklin reproduction-as patients so often did when they thought they were alone a” and therefore rather difficult to see from the spy-hole. Ordinarily speaking, there was no one in the room. It was unoccupied.

Yet Dr. Silence was quite well aware that a human being was in the room. His sensitive system never failed to let him know the proximity of an incarnate or discarnate being. Even in the dark he could tell that. And he now knew positively that his patient a” the patient who had alarmed Barker, and had then tripped down the corridor with that dancing footstep a” was somewhere concealed within the four walls commanded by his spy-hole. He also realised-and this was most unusual a” that this individual whom he desired to watch knew that he was being watched. And, further, that the stranger himself was also watching in his turn. In fact, that it was he, the doctor, who was being observed a” and by an observer as keen and trained as himself.

An inkling of the true state of the case began to dawn upon him, and he was on the verge of entering-indeed, his hand already touched the doork.n.o.b a” when his eye, still glued to the spy-hole, detected a slight movement. Directly opposite, between him and the fireplace, something stirred. He watched very attentively and made certain that he was not mistaken. An object on the mantelpiece a” it was a blue vase-disappeared from view. It pa.s.sed out of sight together with the portion of the marble mantelpiece on which it rested. Next, that part of the fire and grate and bra.s.s fender immediately below it vanished entirely, as though a slice had been taken clean out of them.

Dr. Silence then understood that something between him and these objects was slowly coming into being, something that concealed them and obstructed his vision by inserting itself in the line of sight between them and himself.

He quietly awaited further results before going in.

First he saw a thin perpendicular line tracing itself from just above the height of the clock and continuing downwards till it reached the woolly fire-mat. This line grew wider, broadened, grew solid. It was no shadow; it was something substantial. It defined itself more and more. Then suddenly, at the top of the line, and about on a level with the face of the clock, he saw a small luminous disc gazing steadily at him. It was a human eye, looking straight into his own, pressed there against the spy-hole. And it was bright with intelligence. Dr. Silence held his breath for a moment a” and stared back at it.

Then, like someone moving out of deep shadow into light, he saw the figure of a man come sliding sideways into view, a whitish face following the eye, and the perpendicular line he had first observed broadening out and developing into the complete figure of a human being. It was the patient. He had apparently been standing there in front of the fire all the time. A second eye had followed the first, and both of them stared steadily at the spy-hole, sharply concentrated, yet with a sly twinkle of humour and amus.e.m.e.nt that made it impossible for the doctor to maintain his position any longer.

He opened the door and went in quickly. As he did so he noticed for the first time the sound of a German band coming in noisily through the open ventilators. In some intuitive, unaccountable fas.h.i.+on the music connected itself with the patient he was about to interview. This sort of prevision was not unfamiliar to him. It always explained itself later.

The man, he saw, was of middle age and of very ordinary appearance; so ordinary, in fact, that he was difficult to describe a” his only peculiarity being his extreme thinness. Pleasant a” that is, good a” vibrations issued from his atmosphere and met Dr. Silence as he advanced to greet him, yet vibrations alive with currents and discharges betraying the perturbed and disordered condition of his mind and brain. There was evidently something wholly out of the usual in the state of his thoughts. Yet, though strange, it was not altogether distressing; it was not the impression that the broken and violent atmosphere of the insane produces upon the mind. Dr. Silence realised in a flash that here was a case of absorbing interest that might require all his powers to handle properly.

”I was watching you through my little peep-hole a” as you saw,” he began, with a pleasant smile, advancing to shake hands. ”I find it of the greatest a.s.sistance sometimesa””

But the patient interrupted him at once. His voice was hurried and had odd, shrill changes in it, breaking from high to low in unexpected fas.h.i.+on. One moment it thundered, the next it almost squeaked.

”I understand without explanation,” he broke in rapidly. ”You get the true note of a man in that way-when he thinks himself un.o.bserved. I quite agree. Only, in my case, I fear, you saw very little. My case, as you of course grasp, Dr. Silence, is extremely peculiar, uncomfortably peculiar. Indeed, unless Sir William had positively a.s.sured mea””

”My friend has sent you to me,” the doctor interrupted gravely, with a gentle note of authority, ”and that is quite sufficient. Pray, be seated, Mr. a””

”Mudge a” Racine Mudge,” returned the other.

”Take this comfortable one, Mr. Mudge,” leading him to the fixed chair, ”and tell me your condition in your own way and at your own pace. My whole day is at your service if you require it.”

Mr. Mudge moved towards the chair in question and then hesitated.

”You will promise me not to use the narcotic b.u.t.tons,” he said, before sitting down. ”I do not need them. Also I ought to mention that anything you think of vividly will reach my mind. That is apparently part of my peculiar case.” He sat down with a sigh and arranged his thin legs and body into a position of comfort. Evidently he was very sensitive to the thoughts of others, for the picture of the green b.u.t.tons had only entered the doctor”s mind for a second, yet the other had instantly snapped it up. Dr. Silence noticed, too, that Mr. Mudge held on tightly with both hands to the arms of the chair.

”I'm rather glad the chair is nailed to the floor,” he remarked, as he settled himself more comfortably. ”It suits me admirably. The fact is a” and this is my case in a nutsh.e.l.l a” which is all that a doctor of your marvellous development requires a” the fact is, Dr. Silence, I am a victim of Higher s.p.a.ce. That's what's the matter with me a” Higher s.p.a.ce.”

The two looked at each other for a s.p.a.ce in silence, the little patient holding tightly to the arms of the chair which suited him admirably, and looking up with staring eyes, his atmosphere positively trembling with the waves of some unknown activity; while the doctor smiled kindly and sympathetically, and put his whole person as far as possible into the mental condition of the other.

”Higher s.p.a.ce,” repeated Mr. Mudge, ”that's what it is. Now, do you think you can help me with that?”

There was a pause during which the men's eyes steadily searched down below the surface of their respective personalities. Then Dr. Silence spoke.

”I am quite sure I can help,” he answered quietly; ”sympathy must always help, and suffering always claims my sympathy.

”I see you have suffered cruelly. You must tell me all about your case, and when I hear the gradual steps by which you reached this strange condition, I have no doubt I can be of a.s.sistance to you.”