The vampire nemesis and other weird stories of the China coast (5 page)

I saw him glance swiftly round as though in search of someone, and it needed no intuition to know he was looking for Ethel.

" She is over there," I said in answer to his glance. " Sit down."

He dropped into the vacant chair beside me and made a few commonplace remarks on the review, while the people filed out in front of me, asking carelessly, " How is Mrs. Keith ? "

"Very well, thanks—I might say exceedingly well, in both mind and body."

I could not help letting a small note of triumph creep into my tones, but Rawdon seemed not to notice it, or at least he ignored it.

" Pray give her my kind regards," he said absently, as though about to rise.

" Don't go away yet," I pleaded with a malicious grin, stung by his apparent indifference. " Ethel will be back in a moment, and 1 'm sure she'll be awfully pleased to see such an old friend."

He swung round on me then, a curious light in his shifty blue eyes.

" Keith ! " he said with suppressed vehemence, "you shall both suffer for this!"

I was more amused than angry, as I inquired in mild surprise—

" Suffer for what, my dear fellow ? "

He had suppressed the flash of feeling he had shown, which I regretted, as he sneered—

" You are exceedingly dense if you require me to recapitulate the insult you two put upon me! "

" Insult !" I scoffed. " What a very curious view you take of it, Rawdon! "

" You will take a very serious view of it!" he retorted significantly.

I could not help smiling at his vagaries.

" My dear man ! " I said impatiently, " spare me your idle threats. What is it ? Immolation at the stake ? or perhaps chains and the stool of repentance in your castle dungeon ? What a pity it is," I mused, " that Shanghai can boast of no bastille!"

But he remained unmoved by my levity.

" Nevertheless, you shall both pay dearly for that day's work," he repeated as he rose and sauntered away.

I could not resist flinging back one taunt more ere he got out of earshot—

" You had your chance, and failed to capture the prize. Your fault, my son, or—your misfortune !"

I did not tell Ethel anything of this when she returned. I knew her generous soul enough to be sure she would worry herself and claim the blame for having allowed Rawdon to think too much of her, though I know that she never gave him a scrap of encouragement.

III.

Arnold
Rawdon
and his puerile threats of vague retribution passed quickly from my thoughts, or lingered but as a hazy memory of a humorous interview. I saw nothing more of him, except perhaps the passing glimpses that in a place like Shanghai are inevitable, for seven months; then we were once more thrown together at a social gathering at the house of a mutual friend in Range Road.

There was a fairly large assembly, composed cheifly of young people, and I was anxious to avoid cause for a display of ill-humour on his part. I was agreeably astonished, therefore, to find that, in place of the morose taciturnity I expected, Rawdon greeted me affably, calmly ignoring the fact that we had parted last—on his side at least—in anger.

In my relief at the prospect of the evening's harmony remaining undisturbed, I felt almost inclined to venture on a gentle gibe on the nature of the dreadful revenge he had wreaked upon us. Fortunately I restrained the impulse.

For a wonder, I had come alone. Ethel had been indisposed, and refused to hear of my remaining to keep her company. It was more to
please her—for she was reproaching herself—that I came at all.

There was the usual questionable playing and the usual unquestionably bad singing, which no one wanted to hear and all were reluctant to do, but which for some occult reason everyone joined in soliciting each of the others to perform.

Then we settled down to idle chatter; but the younger members of the party soon began to grow restless with the exuberance of youth. So games were proposed as an outlet for redundant spirits, but here age again was against them; most were at that transitional period of existence when parlour games are looked upon as "kiddish," and more staid forms of amusement have not yet begun to attract. At last, in a moment of happy inspiration, somebody proposed that we should try the good old experiment of making the table revolve by the force of animal magnetism. The sceptical were lured forward by the assurance that they (the narrators) had seen it done " dozens of times."

" Simplest thing in the world," explained one young lady enthusiastically. " You only have to join hands on the table and think hard."

" Oh, I say! " exclaimed a young man opposite.

" No, Mr. Moore, I did not say join hands under the table," flashed the girl in answer to his estatic look, " I said
on
the table."

The young man's face fell and he appeared to be losing in the discussion.

"
I don't think it is very good to think hard," announced a callow youth ; "ruins one's digestion."

" You certainly ought to enjoy good health, Mr. Weir!" retorted the same damsel with a merry glance at his pasty face.

She was the life of the party, that girl, and presently by sheer dint of coaxing and over-ruling all objections she had us gathered round a fairsized table, like so many sheep garnered into the fold.

To heighten the effect and aid the required concentration of thought the lights were turned low, and we all sat with our hands on the circumference of the table, little fingers and thumbs in contact, and thought very hard of ghosts and graveyards, or' surreptitiously squeezed the finger of the girl next to us, to a running accompaniment of little squeals and half-suppressed giggles. Then, as the table still remained solid and immobile, one of us elder ones suddenly lifted his hands, thus destroying the circuit, and pronounced the effort a failure. While the supporters of the scheme were reproaching us with not having thought hard enough or with giggling just as the table began to move, Arnold Rawdon, who I noticed had taken his place at the table with a quiet smile that was half a sneer, asked, " Has anybody ever seen hypnotism ? "

"Yes," said a youngster wearily, "saw it at home. Professor Kennedy did lots of funny
tilings—put the 'fluence on a man an' made him drink kerosene for fizz."

" Why, can you hypnotise ? " asked a lady with breathless interest.

" I don't believe I have quite lost the power," answered Rawdon.

There was a little " oh ! " of pleasurable surprise from more than one of the more impressionable ones, while he continued, " I don't know if anyone will consent to be put off."

I was leaning my back against the mantelpiece listening to this nonsense with a half-disdainful smile, and now a sudden idea seized me. I would make Mr. Arnold Rawdon look small in the eyes of the company by a failure. He might succeed in mesmerizing some young girl of nervous temperament and put her to sleep. But hypnotism ! pooh ! had I not had experience of this sort of thing before? Obsession? Idiotic word. At least there should be no danger of collusion. I myself would volunteer to be the subject. I had it all mapped out so neatly. I would pretend to go off with prompt obedience, and then, when he turned to assure the company that I was under the influence, I would open one eye and laugh at him. It never for a moment struck me as possible for a well-balanced mind to be " put off" unwillingly ; so I said with a short laugh—

" I don't mind being the lamb of sacrifice if Mr. Rawdon cares to try his hand at occult influences."

I have since thought that he accepted my offer with distinct eagerness. At any rate, he came hurriedly towards me as though he feared I might change my mind. I resented the imputation.

" Where shall I sit ? " I asked listlessly.

" Stand where you please. That will do quite well," he replied, standing before me.

The rest of the company eagerly drew their chairs round us in a semicircle, and rustled them selves down into attitudes of comfort and rapt attention.

And now occurred a curious phenomenon. I was standing with folded arms, still leaning against the mantelpiece, and gazing with feigned intentness into the eyes of Arnold Rawdon, determined not to let my imagination wander and so give it the chance of playing any tricks upon me, for I think I have said before that I believed in the possibility of the mesmeric sleep where the subject submitted himself unrestrained to the test.

Rawdon was facing me with a clear intensity of gaze that I did not believe could have crept into the weak, blue eyes. Suddenly, with a quick, imperious gesture, he threw both arms high above my head, and allowed them slowly to drop again to the level of my waist, lightly touching my face with the finger ends as they passed. He repeated this three times, or possibly four times, still looking at me with the same intense fixity of gaze, when— I do not know exactly what happened, but the
sensuous face, with its receding chin, seemed suddenly to blur and fade away, and in place of the eyes into which I had been staring I saw two puffs of blue-grey vapour shoot out, as if from a distance, toward me. The only thing to which I can liken it is the discharge of a gun when one is watching the firing of a naval salute. It was just two such puffs of smoke, but of a darker hue, that I saw leap out toward me, small and concentrated at first, but diffusing themselves as they approached, and I caught myself listening involuntarily for the reports; but only one came—one loud, long, prolonged crash, amid the reverberations of which the jets of vapour appeared to run together and unite as they swept toward me. I had an eerie sensation that I was not myself—that the real Me had wriggled out and was standing without my body looking hopelessly on. Then I remember I unfolded my arms and let them drop rigidly to my side. This was the last voluntary movement I remember making.

The next instant the fog-bank had swept down upon me and enveloped me, and I was in utter darkness. A moment thus, then the grey mists began to recede again and heap themselves in a dense, impenetrable wall behind me. And on the other side of that partition I thought was the real spiritual Me, cut off from all communication with my bodily self. An indescribable sense of double consciousness possessed me. There
was my old familiar self standing aside helpless and inert, and another Me that was surging through every fibre of my being, grasping the control of the machine.

As the vapours ran back to nothingness, the room, to my astonished gaze, became quite clear. I could see the company of ladies and gentlemen sitting erect in their chairs, or leaning forward with expressions of awe writ large on their faces. The only one I could not see was Rawdon.

IV.

Presently
something whispered to me that I was a boy again, and that we were spending our seaside holidays at dear old Hastings. I felt myself smiling derisively at the folly of the idea, for the carpet was at my feet, and not the sands of the seashore.

Nevertheless, prompted by some resistless impulse, I sat plump down on the low fender and commenced vigorously to pull off my boots and socks.

I saw the faces of the company broaden into one universal smile, and I cursed myself for my madness. Yet I was impelled to go on with the farce I loathed. I was helpless, urged relentlessly forward by some strange force that seemed to be directing the movements of my limbs. I looked back appealingly for aid to the other Me, but that bank of lurid fog hid me from myself. Then I sprang up with a shout of exultation such as only the exuberance of boyish spirits could give birth to, and ran to and fro on the carpet, kicking up with my bare feet imaginary foam.

The spectators were convulsed with laughter, while I was torn between a desire to rail at them,
an equal wish to curse myself, and a fear of losing the enjoyment of this glorious paddle through the waves. How long I continued successfully to play the imbecile to an admiring circle of friends I do not now distinctly recollect. I grew tired of the sport at last, and commenced slowly to draw on my discarded foot-gear, having first carefully dried my feet.

Then I stood up once more, and as I did so the mists advanced, and I was again in darkness. It passed by me, however, hovering in front of the company, ever receding, until it divided and resolved itself into the two primary jets of smoke. These gradually shrank and concentrated, then disappeared altogether, and I found myself looking into the eyes of Arnold Rawdon, who was lying, white and still, on a neighbouring couch.

They clapped their hands in delighted relief as they saw me look round once more with rational glance. Then our hostess turned to Rawdon, asking him if he felt unwell.

" Oh, it's nothing! " he replied weakly. " Pray, don't mind me; I shall be all right in about five minutes. The mental strain has been rather great —that is all."

My first feeling was one of fury at having thus been made a clown of for the amusement of the company. Then the humorous aspect of the case struck me, as I smiled to think how completely Rawdon had turned the tables upon me.

Next my scientific interest was aroused as I looked back on my experience. Every little action, every thought, was as clear to me as if I had done and thought them in my normal state of mind.

The only moments of oblivion had been during the transition periods, when the mists had closed in around me. And yet, conscious though I was of every act, and absurd as it seemed now to look back upon, I could at the time no more have helped doing what I had done, than I could have wished to repeat the edifying performance now I was my own master.

To say that I was lost in wonder would but imperfectly convey my sentiments. Here was a new sensation with a vengeance. Of course, I told myself, there was some trick in it; but it was a trick full of interest, a trick worth knowing.

Meanwhile the buzz of animated conversation arose again. Arnold Rawdon roused himself as someone poured him out a glass of port, which he swallowed eagerly, and soon was smiling blandly and making glibly untruthful answers to the eager queries of " How is it done? " He did not say a word to me, except to ask, " Feel any the worse for your experience ?" to which I answered with a curt " No, thanks."

Afterwards a young lady present expressed a desire to be "put off, if Mr. Rawdon would promise not to make her do anything ridiculous."

Rawdon readily gave his promise, and eager
hands drew an unoccupied armchair into the middle of the room, into which she sank.