Chapter 12

by William Somerset Maugham

　　Arthur Burdon spent two or three days in a state of utter uncertainty,but at last the idea he had in mind grew so compelling as to overcome allobjections. He went to the Carlton and asked for Margaret. He had learntfrom the porter that Haddo was gone out and so counted on finding heralone. A simple device enabled him to avoid sending up his name. When hewas shown into her private room Margaret was sitting down. She neitherread nor worked.'You told me I might call upon you,' said Arthur.She stood up without answering, and turned deathly pale.'May I sit down?' he asked.She bowed her head. For a moment they looked at one another in silence.Arthur suddenly forgot all he had prepared to say. His intrusion seemedintolerable.'Why have you come?' she said hoarsely.They both felt that it was useless to attempt the conventionality ofsociety. It was impossible to deal with the polite commonplaces that easean awkward situation.'I thought that I might be able to help you,' he answered gravely.'I want no help. I'm perfectly happy. I have nothing to say to you.'She spoke hurriedly, with a certain nervousness, and her eyes were fixedanxiously on the door as though she feared that someone would come in.'I feel that we have much to say to one another,' he insisted. 'If it isinconvenient for us to talk here, will you not come and see me?''He'd know,' she cried suddenly, as if the words were dragged out of her.'D'you think anything can be hidden from him?'Arthur glanced at her. He was horrified by the terror that was in hereyes. In the full light of day a change was plain in her expression. Herface was strangely drawn, and pinched, and there was in it a constantlook as of a person cowed. Arthur turned away.'I want you to know that I do not blame you in the least for anything youdid. No action of yours can ever lessen my affection for you.''Oh, why did you come here? Why do you torture me by saying such things?'She burst on a sudden into a flood of tears, and walked excitedly up anddown the room.'Oh, if you wanted me to be punished for the pain I've caused you, youcan triumph now. Susie said she hoped I'd suffer all the agony that I'vemade you suffer. If she only knew!'Margaret gave a hysterical laugh. She flung herself on her knees byArthur's side and seized his hands.'Did you think I didn't see? My heart bled when I looked at your poor wanface and your tortured eyes. Oh, you've changed. I could never havebelieved that a man could change so much in so few months, and it's Iwho've caused it all. Oh, Arthur, Arthur, you must forgive me. And youmust pity me.''But there's nothing to forgive, darling,' he cried.She looked at him steadily. Her eyes now were shining with a hardbrightness.'You say that, but you don't really think it. And yet if you only knew,all that I have endured is on your account.'She made a great effort to be calm.'What do you mean?' said Arthur.'He never loved me, he would never have thought of me if he hadn't wantedto wound you in what you treasured most. He hated you, and he's made mewhat I am so that you might suffer. It isn't I who did all this, but adevil within me; it isn't I who lied to you and left you and caused youall this unhappiness.'She rose to her feet and sighed deeply.'Once, I thought he was dying, and I helped him. I took him into thestudio and gave him water. And he gained some dreadful power over me sothat I've been like wax in his hands. All my will has disappeared, and Ihave to do his bidding. And if I try to resist ...'Her face twitched with pain and fear.'I've found out everything since. I know that on that day when he seemedto be at the point of death, he was merely playing a trick on me, and hegot Susie out of the way by sending a telegram from a girl whose name hehad seen on a photograph. I've heard him roar with laughter at hiscleverness.'She stopped suddenly, and a look of frightful agony crossed her face.'And at this very minute, for all I know, it may be by his influence thatI say this to you, so that he may cause you still greater suffering byallowing me to tell you that he never cared for me. You know now that mylife is hell, and his vengeance is complete.''Vengeance for what?''Don't you remember that you hit him once, and kicked him unmercifully? Iknow him well now. He could have killed you, but he hated you too much.It pleased him a thousand times more to devise this torture for you andme.'Margaret's agitation was terrible to behold. This was the first time thatshe had ever spoken to a soul of all these things, and now the longrestraint had burst as burst the waters of a dam. Arthur sought to calmher.'You're ill and overwrought. You must try to compose yourself. After all,Haddo is a human being like the rest of us.''Yes, you always laughed at his claims. You wouldn't listen to the thingshe said. But I know. Oh, I can't explain it; I daresay common sense andprobability are all against it, but I've seen things with my own eyesthat pass all comprehension. I tell you, he has powers of the most awfulkind. That first day when I was alone with him, he seemed to take me tosome kind of sabbath. I don't know what it was, but I saw horrors, vilehorrors, that rankled for ever after like poison in my mind; and when wewent up to his house in Staffordshire, I recognized the scene; Irecognized the arid rocks, and the trees, and the lie of the land. I knewI'd been there before on that fatal afternoon. Oh, you must believe me!Sometimes I think I shall go mad with the terror of it all.'Arthur did not speak. Her words caused a ghastly suspicion to flashthrough his mind, and he could hardly contain himself. He thought thatsome dreadful shock had turned her brain. She buried her face in herhands.'Look here,' he said, 'you must come away at once. You can't continue tolive with him. You must never go back to Skene.''I can't leave him. We're bound together inseparably.''But it's monstrous. There can be nothing to keep you to him. Come backto Susie. She'll be very kind to you; she'll help you to forget allyou've endured.''It's no use. You can do nothing for me.''Why not?''Because, notwithstanding, I love him with all my soul.''Margaret!''I hate him. He fills me with repulsion. And yet I do not know what thereis in my blood that draws me to him against my will. My flesh cries outfor him.'Arthur looked away in embarrassment. He could not help a slight,instinctive movement of withdrawal.'Do I disgust you?' she said.He flushed slightly, but scarcely knew how to answer. He made a vaguegesture of denial.'If you only knew,' she said.There was something so extraordinary in her tone that he gave her a quickglance of surprise. He saw that her cheeks were flaming. Her bosom waspanting as though she were again on the point of breaking into a passionof tears.'For God's sake, don't look at me!' she cried.She turned away and hid her face. The words she uttered were in a shamed,unnatural voice.'If you'd been at Monte Carlo, you'd have heard them say, God knows howthey knew it, that it was only through me he had his luck at the tables.He's contented himself with filling my soul with vice. I have no purityin me. I'm sullied through and through. He has made me into a sink ofiniquity, and I loathe myself. I cannot look at myself without a shudderof disgust.'A cold sweat came over Arthur, and he grew more pale than ever. Herealized now he was in the presence of a mystery that he could notunravel. She went on feverishly.'The other night, at supper, I told a story, and I saw you wince withshame. It wasn't I that told it. The impulse came from him, and I knew itwas vile, and yet I told it with gusto. I enjoyed the telling of it; Ienjoyed the pain I gave you, and the dismay of those women. There seem tobe two persons in me, and my real self, the old one that you knew andloved, is growing weaker day by day, and soon she will be dead entirely.And there will remain only the wanton soul in the virgin body.'Arthur tried to gather his wits together. He felt it an occasion on whichit was essential to hold on to the normal view of things.'But for God's sake leave him. What you've told me gives you every groundfor divorce. It's all monstrous. The man must be so mad that he ought tobe put in a lunatic asylum.''You can do nothing for me,' she said.'But if he doesn't love you, what does he want you for?''I don't know, but I'm beginning to suspect.'She looked at Arthur steadily. She was now quite calm.'I think he wishes to use me for a magical operation. I don't know ifhe's mad or not. But I think he means to try some horrible experiment,and I am needful for its success. That is my safeguard.''Your safeguard?''He won't kill me because he needs me for that. Perhaps in the process Ishall regain my freedom.'Arthur was shocked at the callousness with which she spoke. He went up toher and put his hands on her shoulders.'Look here, you must pull yourself together, Margaret. This isn't sane.If you don't take care, your mind will give way altogether. You mustcome with me now. When you're out of his hands, you'll soon regain yourcalmness of mind. You need never see him again. If you're afraid, youshall be hidden from him, and lawyers shall arrange everything betweenyou.''I daren't.''But I promise you that you can come to no harm. Be reasonable. We're inLondon now, surrounded by people on every side. How do you think he cantouch you while we drive through the crowded streets? I'll take youstraight to Susie. In a week you'll laugh at the idle fears you had.''How do you know that he is not in the room at this moment, listening toall you say?'The question was so sudden, so unexpected, that Arthur was startled. Helooked round quickly.'You must be mad. You see that the room is empty.''I tell you that you don't know what powers he has. Have you ever heardthose old legends with which nurses used to frighten our childhood, ofmen who could turn themselves into wolves, and who scoured the country atnight?' She looked at him with staring eyes. 'Sometimes, when he's comein at Skene in the morning, with bloodshot eyes, exhausted with fatigueand strangely discomposed, I've imagined that he too ...' She stopped andthrew back her head. 'You're right, Arthur, I think I shall go mad.'He watched her helplessly. He did not know what to do. Margaret went on,her voice quivering with anguish.'When we were married, I reminded him that he'd promised to take meto his mother. He would never speak of her, but I felt I must see her.And one day, suddenly, he told me to get ready for a journey, and wewent a long way, to a place I did not know, and we drove into thecountry. We seemed to go miles and miles, and we reached at last alarge house, surrounded by a high wall, and the windows were heavilybarred. We were shown into a great empty room. It was dismal and coldlike the waiting-room at a station. A man came in to us, a tall man,in a frock-coat and gold spectacles. He was introduced to me as DrTaylor, and then, suddenly, I understood.'Margaret spoke in hurried gasps, and her eyes were staring wide, asthough she saw still the scene which at the time had seemed the crowninghorror of her experience.'I knew it was an asylum, and Oliver hadn't told me a word. He took us upa broad flight of stairs, through a large dormitory--oh, if you only knewwhat I saw there! I was so horribly frightened, I'd never been in such aplace before--to a cell. And the walls and the floor were padded.'Margaret passed her hand across her forehead to chase away therecollection of that awful sight.'Oh, I see it still. I can never get it out of my mind.'She remembered with a morbid vividness the vast misshapen mass whichshe had seen heaped strangely in one corner. There was a slight movementin it as they entered, and she perceived that it was a human being. Itwas a woman, dressed in shapeless brown flannel; a woman of great statureand of a revolting, excessive corpulence. She turned upon them a huge,impassive face; and its unwrinkled smoothness gave it an appearance ofaborted childishness. The hair was dishevelled, grey, and scanty. Butwhat most terrified Margaret was that she saw in this creature anappalling likeness to Oliver.'He told me it was his mother, and she'd been there for five-and-twentyyears.'Arthur could hardly bear the terror that was in Margaret's eyes. He didnot know what to say to her. In a little while she began to speak again,in a low voice and rapidly, as though to herself, and she wrung herhands.'Oh, you don't know what I've endured! He used to spend long periods awayfrom me, and I remained alone at Skene from morning till night, alonewith my abject fear. Sometimes, it seemed that he was seized with adevouring lust for the gutter, and he would go to Liverpool or Manchesterand throw himself among the very dregs of the people. He used to passlong days, drinking in filthy pot-houses. While the bout lasted, nothingwas too depraved for him. He loved the company of all that was criminaland low. He used to smoke opium in foetid dens--oh, you have noconception of his passion to degrade himself--and at last he would comeback, dirty, with torn clothes, begrimed, sodden still with his longdebauch; and his mouth was hot with the kisses of the vile women of thedocks. Oh, he's so cruel when the fit takes him that I think he has afiendish pleasure in the sight of suffering!'It was more than Arthur could stand. His mind was made up to try a boldcourse. He saw on the table a whisky bottle and glasses. He poured someneat spirit into a tumbler and gave it to Margaret.'Drink this,' he said.'What is it?''Never mind! Drink it at once.'Obediently she put it to her lips. He stood over her as she emptied theglass. A sudden glow filled her.'Now come with me.'He took her arm and led her down the stairs. He passed through the hallquickly. There was a cab just drawn up at the door, and he told her toget in. One or two persons stared at seeing a woman come out of thathotel in a teagown and without a hat. He directed the driver to the housein which Susie lived and looked round at Margaret. She had faintedimmediately she got into the cab.When they arrived, he carried Margaret upstairs and laid her on a sofa.He told Susie what had happened and what he wanted of her. The dear womanforgot everything except that Margaret was very ill, and promisedwillingly to do all he wished.* * * * *For a week Margaret could not be moved. Arthur hired a little cottage inHampshire, opposite the Isle of Wight, hoping that amid the mostcharming, restful scenery in England she would quickly regain herstrength; and as soon as it was possible Susie took her down. But she wasmuch altered. Her gaiety had disappeared and with it her determination.Although her illness had been neither long nor serious, she seemed asexhausted, physically and mentally, as if she had been for months at thepoint of death. She took no interest in her surroundings, and wasindifferent to the shady lanes through which they drove and to thegracious trees and the meadows. Her old passion for beauty was gone, andshe cared neither for the flowers which filled their little garden norfor the birds that sang continually. But at last it seemed necessary todiscuss the future. Margaret acquiesced in all that was suggested to her,and agreed willingly that the needful steps should be taken to procureher release from Oliver Haddo. He made apparently no effort to trace her,and nothing had been heard of him. He did not know where Margaret was,but he might have guessed that Arthur was responsible for her flight, andArthur was easily to be found. It made Susie vaguely uneasy that therewas no sign of his existence. She wished that Arthur were not kept by hiswork in London.At last a suit for divorce was instituted.Two days after this, when Arthur was in his consultingroom, Haddo's cardwas brought to him. Arthur's jaw set more firmly.'Show the gentleman in,' he ordered.When Haddo entered, Arthur, standing with his back to the fireplace,motioned him to sit down.'What can I do for you?' he asked coldly.'I have not come to avail myself of your surgical skill, my dear Burdon,'smiled Haddo, as he fell ponderously into an armchair.'So I imagined.''You perspicacity amazes me. I surmise that it is to you I owe thisamusing citation which was served on me yesterday.''I allowed you to come in so that I might tell you I will have nocommunication with you except through my solicitors.''My dear fellow, why do you treat me with such discourtesy? It is truethat you have deprived me of the wife of my bosom, but you might at leastso far respect my marital rights as to use me civilly.''My patience is not as good as it was,' answered Arthur, 'I venture toremind you that once before I lost my temper with you, and the result youmust have found unpleasant.''I should have thought you regretted that incident by now, O Burdon,'answered Haddo, entirely unabashed.'My time is very short,' said Arthur.'Then I will get to my business without delay. I thought it mightinterest you to know that I propose to bring a counter-petitionagainst my wife, and I shall make you co-respondent.''You infamous blackguard!' cried Arthur furiously. 'You know as well as Ido that your wife is above suspicion.''I know that she left my hotel in your company, and has been living sinceunder your protection.'Arthur grew livid with rage. He could hardly restrain himself fromknocking the man down. He gave a short laugh.'You can do what you like. I'm really not frightened.''The innocent are so very incautious. I assure you that I can make a goodenough story to ruin your career and force you to resign yourappointments at the various hospitals you honour with your attention.''You forget that the case will not be tried in open court,' said Arthur.Haddo looked at him steadily. He did not answer for a moment.'You're quite right,' he said at last, with a little smile. 'I hadforgotten that.''Then I need not detain you longer.'Oliver Haddo got up. He passed his hand reflectively over his huge face.Arthur watched him with scornful eyes. He touched a bell, and the servantat once appeared.'Show this gentleman out.'Not in the least disconcerted, Haddo strolled calmly to the door.Arthur gave a sigh of relief, for he concluded that Haddo would not showfight. His solicitor indeed had already assured him that Oliver would notventure to defend the case.Margaret seemed gradually to take more interest in the proceedings, andshe was full of eagerness to be set free. She did not shrink from theunpleasant ordeal of a trial. She could talk of Haddo with composure. Herfriends were able to persuade themselves that in a little while she wouldbe her old self again, for she was growing stronger and more cheerful;her charming laughter rang through the little house as it had been usedto do in the Paris studio. The case was to come on at the end of July,before the long vacation, and Susie had agreed to take Margaret abroad assoon as it was done.But presently a change came over her. As the day of the trial drewnearer, Margaret became excited and disturbed; her gaiety deserted her,and she fell into long, moody silences. To some extent this wascomprehensible, for she would have to disclose to callous ears the mostintimate details of her married life; but at last her nervousness grew somarked that Susie could no longer ascribe it to natural causes. Shethought it necessary to write to Arthur about it.My Dear Arthur:I don't know what to make of Margaret, and I wish you would come down andsee her. The good-humour which I have noticed in her of late has givenway to a curious irritability. She is so restless that she cannot keepstill for a moment. Even when she is sitting down her body moves in amanner that is almost convulsive. I am beginning to think that the strainfrom which she suffered is bringing on some nervous disease, and I amreally alarmed. She walks about the house in a peculiarly aimless manner,up and down the stairs, in and out of the garden. She has grown suddenlymuch more silent, and the look has come back to her eyes which they hadwhen first we brought her down here. When I beg her to tell me what istroubling her, she says: 'I'm afraid that something is going to happen.'She will not or cannot explain what she means. The last few weeks haveset my own nerves on edge, so that I do not know how much of what Iobserve is real, and how much is due to my fancy; but I wish you wouldcome and put a little courage into me. The oddness of it all is making meuneasy, and I am seized with preposterous terrors. I don't know whatthere is in Haddo that inspires me with this unaccountable dread. He isalways present to my thoughts. I seem to see his dreadful eyes and hiscold, sensual smile. I wake up at night, my heart beating furiously, withthe consciousness that something quite awful has happened.Oh, I wish the trial were over, and that we were happy in Germany.Yours everSUSAN BOYDSusie took a certain pride in her common sense, and it was humiliating tofind that her nerves could be so distraught. She was worried and unhappy.It had not been easy to take Margaret back to her bosom as if nothing hadhappened. Susie was human; and, though she did ten times more than couldbe expected of her, she could not resist a feeling of irritation thatArthur sacrificed her so calmly. He had no room for other thoughts, andit seemed quite natural to him that she should devote herself entirely toMargaret's welfare.Susie walked some way along the road to post this letter and then went toher room. It was a wonderful night, starry and calm, and the silence waslike balm to her troubles. She sat at the window for a long time, and atlast, feeling more tranquil, went to bed. She slept more soundly than shehad done for many days. When she awoke the sun was streaming into herroom, and she gave a deep sigh of delight. She could see trees from herbed, and blue sky. All her troubles seemed easy to bear when the worldwas so beautiful, and she was ready to laugh at the fears that had soaffected her.She got up, put on a dressing-gown, and went to Margaret's room. It wasempty. The bed had not been slept in. On the pillow was a note.It's no good; I can't help myself. I've gone back to him. Don't troubleabout me any more. It's quite hopeless and useless.MSusie gave a little gasp. Her first thought was for Arthur, and sheuttered a wail of sorrow because he must be cast again into the agony ofdesolation. Once more she had to break the dreadful news. She dressedhurriedly and ate some breakfast. There was no train till nearly eleven,and she had to bear her impatience as best she could. At last it was timeto start, and she put on her gloves. At that moment the door was opened,and Arthur came in.She gave a cry of terror and turned pale.'I was just coming to London to see you,' she faltered. 'How did you findout?''Haddo sent me a box of chocolates early this morning with a card onwhich was written: I think the odd trick is mine.'This cruel vindictiveness, joined with a schoolboy love of taunting thevanquished foe, was very characteristic. Susie gave Arthur Burdon thenote which she had found in Margaret's room. He read it and then thoughtfor a long time.'I'm afraid she's right,' he said at length. 'It seems quite hopeless.The man has some power over her which we can't counteract.'Susie wondered whether his strong scepticism was failing at last.She could not withstand her own feeling that there was somethingpreternatural about the hold that Oliver had over Margaret. She hadno shadow of a doubt that he was able to affect his wife even at adistance, and was convinced now that the restlessness of the last fewdays was due to this mysterious power. He had been at work in somestrange way, and Margaret had been aware of it. At length she couldnot resist and had gone to him instinctively: her will was as littleconcerned as when a chip of steel flies to a magnet.'I cannot find it in my heart now to blame her for anything she hasdone,' said Susie. 'I think she is the victim of a most lamentable fate.I can't help it. I must believe that he was able to cast a spell on her;and to that is due all that has happened. I have only pity for her greatmisfortunes.''Has it occurred to you what will happen when she is back in Haddo'shands?' cried Arthur. 'You know as well as I do how revengeful he is andhow hatefully cruel. My heart bleeds when I think of the tortures, sheerphysical tortures, which she may suffer.'He walked up and down in desperation.'And yet there's nothing whatever that one can do. One can't go to thepolice and say that a man has cast a magic spell on his wife.''Then you believe it too?' said Susie.'I don't know what I believe now,' he cried. 'After all, we can't doanything if she chooses to go back to her husband. She's apparently herown mistress.' He wrung his hands. 'And I'm imprisoned in London! I can'tleave it for a day. I ought not to be here now, and I must get back in acouple of hours. I can do nothing, and yet I'm convinced that Margaret isutterly wretched.'Susie paused for a minute or two. She wondered how he would accept thesuggestion that was in her mind.'Do you know, it seems to me that common methods are useless. The onlychance is to fight him with his own weapons. Would you mind if I wentover to Paris to consult Dr Porhoet? You know that he is learned in everybranch of the occult, and perhaps he might help us.'But Arthur pulled himself together.'It's absurd. We mustn't give way to superstition. Haddo is merely ascoundrel and a charlatan. He's worked on our nerves as he's worked onpoor Margaret's. It's impossible to suppose that he has any powersgreater than the common run of mankind.''Even after all you've seen with your own eyes?''If my eyes show me what all my training assures me is impossible, I canonly conclude that my eyes deceive me.''Well, I shall run over to Paris.'