The Stories of Mystery - [29]

I went to Sadler and found him, to my surprise, in bed. As I entered he sat up and turned a face toward me which sickened me as I looked at it.

‘Why, Sadler, what has happened?’ I cried, but my heart turned cold as I said it.

‘Gilroy,’ he answered, mumbling with his swollen lips, ‘I have for some weeks been under the impression that you are a madman. Now I know it, and that you are a dangerous one as well. If it were not that I am unwilling to make a scandal in the college, you would now be in the hands of the police.’

‘Do you mean – ‘ I cried.

‘I mean that as I opened the door last night you rushed out upon me, struck me with both your fists in the face, knocked me down, kicked me furiously in the side, and left me lying almost unconscious in the street. Look at your own hand bearing witness against you.’

Yes, there it was, puffed up, with sponge-like knuckles, as after some terrific blow. What could I do? Though he put me down as a madman, I must tell him all. I sat by his bed and went over all my troubles from the beginning. I poured them out with quivering hands and burning words which might have carried conviction to the most skeptical. ‘She hates you and she hates me!’ I cried. ‘She revenged herself last night on both of us at once. She saw me leave the ball, and she must have seen you also. She knew how long it would take you to reach home. Then she had but to use her wicked will. Ah, your bruised face is a small thing beside my bruised soul!’

He was struck by my story. That was evident. ‘Yes, yes, she watched me out of the room,’ he muttered. ‘She is capable of it. But is it possible that she has really reduced you to this? What do you intend to do?’

‘To stop it!’ I cried. ‘I am perfectly desperate; I shall give her fair warning to-day, and the next time will be the last.’

‘Do nothing rash,’ said he.

‘Rash!’ I cried. ‘The only rash thing is that I should postpone it another hour.’ With that I rushed to my room, and here I am on the eve of what may be the great crisis of my life. I shall start at once. I have gained one thing to-day, for I have made one man, at least, realize the truth of this monstrous experience of mine. And, if the worst should happen, this diary remains as a proof of the goad that has driven me.

Evening. When I came to Wilson’s, I was shown up, and found that he was sitting with Miss Penclosa. For half an hour I had to endure his fussy talk about his recent research into the exact nature of the spiritualistic rap, while the creature and I sat in silence looking across the room at each other. I read a sinister amusement in her eyes, and she must have seen hatred and menace in mine. I had almost despaired of having speech with her when he was called from the room, and we were left for a few moments together.

‘Well, Professor Gilroy – or is it Mr. Gilroy?’ said she, with that bitter smile of hers. ‘How is your friend Mr. Charles Sadler after the ball?’

‘You fiend!’ I cried. ‘You have come to the end of your tricks now. I will have no more of them. Listen to what I say.’ I strode across and shook her roughly by the shoulder ‘As sure as there is a God in heaven, I swear that if you try another of your deviltries upon me I will have your life for it. Come what may, I will have your life. I have come to the end of what a man can endure.’

‘Accounts are not quite settled between us,’ said she, with a passion that equaled my own. ‘I can love, and I can hate. You had your choice. You chose to spurn the first; now you must test the other. It will take a little more to break your spirit, I see, but broken it shall be. Miss Marden comes back to-morrow, as I understand.’

‘What has that to do with you?’ I cried. ‘It is a pollution that you should dare even to think of her. If I thought that you would harm her – ‘

She was frightened, I could see, though she tried to brazen it out. She read the black thought in my mind, and cowered away from me.

‘She is fortunate in having such a champion,’ said she. ‘He actually dares to threaten a lonely woman. I must really congratulate Miss Marden upon her protector.’

The words were bitter, but the voice and manner were more acid still.

‘There is no use talking,’ said I. ‘I only came here to tell you, – and to tell you most solemnly, – that your next outrage upon me will be your last.’ With that, as I heard Wilson’s step upon the stair, I walked from the room. Ay, she may look venomous and deadly, but, for all that, she is beginning to see now that she has as much to fear from me as I can have from her. Murder! It has an ugly sound. But you don’t talk of murdering a snake or of murdering a tiger. Let her have a care now.

May 5. I met Agatha and her mother at the station at eleven o’clock. She is looking so bright, so happy, so beautiful. And she was so overjoyed to see me. What have I done to deserve such love? I went back home with them, and we lunched together. All the troubles seem in a moment to have been shredded back from my life. She tells me that I am looking pale and worried and ill. The dear child puts it down to my loneliness and the perfunctory attentions of a housekeeper. I pray that she may never know the truth! May the shadow, if shadow there must be, lie ever black across my life and leave hers in the sunshine. I have just come back from them, feeling a new man. With her by my side I think that I could show a bold face to any thing which life might send.