Smith: An Episode in a Lodging-House
"When I was a medical student," began the doctor, half turning towardshis circle of listeners in the firelight, "I came across one or two verycurious human beings; but there was one fellow I remember particularly,for he caused me the most vivid, and I think the most uncomfortable,emotions I have ever known."For many months I knew Smith only by name as the occupant of the floorabove me. Obviously his name meant nothing to me. Moreover I was busywith lectures, reading, cliniques and the like, and had little leisureto devise plans for scraping acquaintance with any of the other lodgersin the house. Then chance brought us curiously together, and this fellowSmith left a deep impression upon me as the result of our first meeting.At the time the strength of this first impression seemed quiteinexplicable to me, but looking back at the episode now from astand-point of greater knowledge I judge the fact to have been that hestirred my curiosity to an unusual degree, and at the same time awakenedmy sense of horror--whatever that may be in a medical student--about asdeeply and permanently as these two emotions were capable of beingstirred at all in the particular system and set of nerves called ME."How he knew that I was interested in the study of languages wassomething I could never explain, but one day, quite unannounced, he camequietly into my room in the evening and asked me point-blank if I knewenough Hebrew to help him in the pronunciation of certain words."He caught me along the line of least resistance, and I was greatlyflattered to be able to give him the desired information; but it wasonly when he had thanked me and was gone that I realised I had been inthe presence of an unusual individuality. For the life of me I could notquite seize and label the peculiarities of what I felt to be a verystriking personality, but it was borne in upon me that he was a manapart from his fellows, a mind that followed a line leading away fromordinary human intercourse and human interests, and into regions thatleft in his atmosphere something remote, rarefied, chilling."The moment he was gone I became conscious of two things--an intensecuriosity to know more about this man and what his real interests were,and secondly, the fact that my skin was crawling and that my hair had atendency to rise."The doctor paused a moment here to puff hard at his pipe, which,however, had gone out beyond recall without the assistance of a match;and in the deep silence, which testified to the genuine interest of hislisteners, someone poked the fire up into a little blaze, and one or twoothers glanced over their shoulders into the dark distances of the bighall."On looking back," he went on, watching the momentary flames in thegrate, "I see a short, thick-set man of perhaps forty-five, with immenseshoulders and small, slender hands. The contrast was noticeable, for Iremember thinking that such a giant frame and such slim finger boneshardly belonged together. His head, too, was large and very long, thehead of an idealist beyond all question, yet with an unusually strongdevelopment of the jaw and chin. Here again was a singularcontradiction, though I am better able now to appreciate its fullmeaning, with a greater experience in judging the values ofphysiognomy. For this meant, of course, an enthusiastic idealismbalanced and kept in check by will and judgment--elements usuallydeficient in dreamers and visionaries."At any rate, here was a being with probably a very wide range ofpossibilities, a machine with a pendulum that most likely had an unusuallength of swing."The man's hair was exceedingly fine, and the lines about his nose andmouth were cut as with a delicate steel instrument in wax. His eyes Ihave left to the last. They were large and quite changeable, not incolour only, but in character, size, and shape. Occasionally they seemedthe eyes of someone else, if you can understand what I mean, and at thesame time, in their shifting shades of blue, green, and a nameless sortof dark grey, there was a sinister light in them that lent to the wholeface an aspect almost alarming. Moreover, they were the most luminousoptics I think I have ever seen in any human being."There, then, at the risk of a wearisome description, is Smith as I sawhim for the first time that winter's evening in my shabby student'srooms in Edinburgh. And yet the real part of him, of course, I haveleft untouched, for it is both indescribable and un-get-atable. I havespoken already of an atmosphere of warning and aloofness he carriedabout with him. It is impossible further to analyse the series of littleshocks his presence always communicated to my being; but there was thatabout him which made me instantly on the qui vive in his presence,every nerve alert, every sense strained and on the watch. I do not meanthat he deliberately suggested danger, but rather that he brought forcesin his wake which automatically warned the nervous centres of my systemto be on their guard and alert."Since the days of my first acquaintance with this man I have livedthrough other experiences and have seen much I cannot pretend to explainor understand; but, so far in my life, I have only once come across ahuman being who suggested a disagreeable familiarity with unholy things,and who made me feel uncanny and 'creepy' in his presence; and thatunenviable individual was Mr. Smith."What his occupation was during the day I never knew. I think he sleptuntil the sun set. No one ever saw him on the stairs, or heard him movein his room during the day. He was a creature of the shadows, whoapparently preferred darkness to light. Our landlady either knewnothing, or would say nothing. At any rate she found no fault, and Ihave since wondered often by what magic this fellow was able to converta common landlady of a common lodging-house into a discreet anduncommunicative person. This alone was a sign of genius of some sort."'He's been here with me for years--long before you come, an' I don'tinterfere or ask no questions of what doesn't concern me, as long aspeople pays their rent,' was the only remark on the subject that I eversucceeded in winning from that quarter, and it certainly told me nothingnor gave me any encouragement to ask for further information."Examinations, however, and the general excitement of a medicalstudent's life for a time put Mr. Smith completely out of my head. For along period he did not call upon me again, and for my part, I felt nocourage to return his unsolicited visit."Just then, however, there came a change in the fortunes of those whocontrolled my very limited income, and I was obliged to give up myground-floor and move aloft to more modest chambers on the top of thehouse. Here I was directly over Smith, and had to pass his door toreach my own."It so happened that about this time I was frequently called out at allhours of the night for the maternity cases which a fourth-year studenttakes at a certain period of his studies, and on returning from one ofthese visits at about two o'clock in the morning I was surprised to hearthe sound of voices as I passed his door. A peculiar sweet odour, too,not unlike the smell of incense, penetrated into the passage."I went upstairs very quietly, wondering what was going on there at thishour of the morning. To my knowledge Smith never had visitors. For amoment I hesitated outside the door with one foot on the stairs. All myinterest in this strange man revived, and my curiosity rose to a pointnot far from action. At last I might learn something of the habits ofthis lover of the night and the darkness."The sound of voices was plainly audible, Smith's predominating so muchthat I never could catch more than points of sound from the other,penetrating now and then the steady stream of his voice. Not a singleword reached me, at least, not a word that I could understand, thoughthe voice was loud and distinct, and it was only afterwards that Irealised he must have been speaking in a foreign language."The sound of footsteps, too, was equally distinct. Two persons weremoving about the room, passing and repassing the door, one of them alight, agile person, and the other ponderous and somewhat awkward.Smith's voice went on incessantly with its odd, monotonous droning, nowloud, now soft, as he crossed and re-crossed the floor. The other personwas also on the move, but in a different and less regular fashion, for Iheard rapid steps that seemed to end sometimes in stumbling, and quicksudden movements that brought up with a violent lurching against thewall or furniture."As I listened to Smith's voice, moreover, I began to feel afraid. Therewas something in the sound that made me feel intuitively he was in atight place, and an impulse stirred faintly in me--very faintly, Iadmit--to knock at the door and inquire if he needed help."But long before the impulse could translate itself into an act, or evenbefore it had been properly weighed and considered by the mind, I hearda voice close beside me in the air, a sort of hushed whisper which I amcertain was Smith speaking, though the sound did not seem to have cometo me through the door. It was close in my very ear, as though he stoodbeside me, and it gave me such a start, that I clutched the banisters tosave myself from stepping backwards and making a clatter on the stairs."'There is nothing you can do to help me,'" it said distinctly, 'and youwill be much safer in your own room.'"I am ashamed to this day of the pace at which I covered the flight ofstairs in the darkness to the top floor, and of the shaking hand withwhich I lit my candles and bolted the door. But, there it is, just as ithappened."This midnight episode, so odd and yet so trivial in itself, fired mewith more curiosity than ever about my fellow-lodger. It also made meconnect him in my mind with a sense of fear and distrust. I never sawhim, yet I was often, and uncomfortably, aware of his presence in theupper regions of that gloomy lodging-house. Smith and his secret mode oflife and mysterious pursuits, somehow contrived to awaken in my being aline of reflection that disturbed my comfortable condition of ignorance.I never saw him, as I have said, and exchanged no sort of communicationwith him, yet it seemed to me that his mind was in contact with mine,and some of the strange forces of his atmosphere filtered through intomy being and disturbed my equilibrium. Those upper floors became hauntedfor me after dark, and, though outwardly our lives never came intocontact, I became unwillingly involved in certain pursuits on which hismind was centred. I felt that he was somehow making use of me against mywill, and by methods which passed my comprehension."I was at that time, moreover, in the heavy, unquestioning state ofmaterialism which is common to medical students when they begin tounderstand something of the human anatomy and nervous system, and jumpat once to the conclusion that they control the universe and hold intheir forceps the last word of life and death. I 'knew it all,' andregarded a belief in anything beyond matter as the wanderings of weak,or at best, untrained minds. And this condition of mind, of course,added to the strength of this upsetting fear which emanated from thefloor below and began slowly to take possession of me."Though I kept no notes of the subsequent events in this matter, theymade too deep an impression for me ever to forget the sequence in whichthey occurred. Without difficulty I can recall the next step in theadventure with Smith, for adventure it rapidly grew to be."The doctor stopped a moment and laid his pipe on the table behind himbefore continuing. The fire had burned low, and no one stirred to pokeit. The silence in the great hall was so deep that when the speaker'spipe touched the table the sound woke audible echoes at the far endamong the shadows."One evening, while I was reading, the door of my room opened and Smithcame in. He made no attempt at ceremony. It was after ten o'clock and Iwas tired, but the presence of the man immediately galvanised me intoactivity. My attempts at ordinary politeness he thrust on one side atonce, and began asking me to vocalise, and then pronounce for him,certain Hebrew words; and when this was done he abruptly inquired if Iwas not the fortunate possessor of a very rare Rabbinical Treatise,which he named."How he knew that I possessed this book puzzled me exceedingly; but Iwas still more surprised to see him cross the room and take it out ofmy book-shelf almost before I had had time to answer in the affirmative.Evidently he knew exactly where it was kept. This excited my curiositybeyond all bounds, and I immediately began asking him questions; andthough, out of sheer respect for the man, I put them very delicately tohim, and almost by way of mere conversation, he had only one reply forthe lot. He would look up at me from the pages of the book with anexpression of complete comprehension on his extraordinary features,would bow his head a little and say very gravely--"'That, of course, is a perfectly proper question,'--which wasabsolutely all I could ever get out of him."On this particular occasion he stayed with me perhaps ten or fifteenminutes. Then he went quickly downstairs to his room with my HebrewTreatise in his hand, and I heard him close and bolt his door."But a few moments later, before I had time to settle down to my bookagain, or to recover from the surprise his visit had caused me, I heardthe door open, and there stood Smith once again beside my chair. He madeno excuse for his second interruption, but bent his head down to thelevel of my reading lamp and peered across the flame straight into myeyes."'I hope,' he whispered, 'I hope you are never disturbed at night?'"'Eh?' I stammered, 'disturbed at night? Oh no, thanks, at least, notthat I know of--'"'I'm glad,' he replied gravely, appearing not to notice my confusionand surprise at his question. 'But, remember, should it ever be thecase, please let me know at once.'"And he was gone down the stairs and into his room again."For some minutes I sat reflecting upon his strange behaviour. He wasnot mad, I argued, but was the victim of some harmless delusion that hadgradually grown upon him as a result of his solitary mode of life; andfrom the books he used, I judged that it had something to do withmediaeval magic, or some system of ancient Hebrew mysticism. The words heasked me to pronounce for him were probably 'Words of Power,' which,when uttered with the vehemence of a strong will behind them, weresupposed to produce physical results, or set up vibrations in one's owninner being that had the effect of a partial lifting of the veil."I sat thinking about the man, and his way of living, and the probableeffects in the long-run of his dangerous experiments, and I can recallperfectly well the sensation of disappointment that crept over me when Irealised that I had labelled his particular form of aberration, and thatmy curiosity would therefore no longer be excited."For some time I had been sitting alone with these reflections--it mayhave been ten minutes or it may have been half an hour--when I wasaroused from my reverie by the knowledge that someone was again in theroom standing close beside my chair. My first thought was that Smith hadcome back again in his swift, unaccountable manner, but almost at thesame moment I realised that this could not be the case at all. For thedoor faced my position, and it certainly had not been opened again."Yet, someone was in the room, moving cautiously to and fro, watchingme, almost touching me. I was as sure of it as I was of myself, andthough at the moment I do not think I was actually afraid, I am bound toadmit that a certain weakness came over me and that I felt that strangedisinclination for action which is probably the beginning of thehorrible paralysis of real terror. I should have been glad to hidemyself, if that had been possible, to cower into a corner, or behind adoor, or anywhere so that I could not be watched and observed."But, overcoming my nervousness with an effort of the will, I got upquickly out of my chair and held the reading lamp aloft so that it shoneinto all the corners like a searchlight."The room was utterly empty! It was utterly empty, at least, to theeye, but to the nerves, and especially to that combination of senseperception which is made up by all the senses acting together, and by noone in particular, there was a person standing there at my very elbow."I say 'person,' for I can think of no appropriate word. For, if itwas a human being, I can only affirm that I had the overwhelmingconviction that it was not, but that it was some form of life whollyunknown to me both as to its essence and its nature. A sensation ofgigantic force and power came with it, and I remember vividly to thisday my terror on realising that I was close to an invisible being whocould crush me as easily as I could crush a fly, and who could see myevery movement while itself remaining invisible."To this terror was added the certain knowledge that the 'being' keptin my proximity for a definite purpose. And that this purpose had somedirect bearing upon my well-being, indeed upon my life, I was equallyconvinced; for I became aware of a sensation of growing lassitude asthough the vitality were being steadily drained out of my body. My heartbegan to beat irregularly at first, then faintly. I was conscious, evenwithin a few minutes, of a general drooping of the powers of life in thewhole system, an ebbing away of self-control, and a distinct approach ofdrowsiness and torpor."The power to move, or to think out any mode of resistance, was fastleaving me, when there rose, in the distance as it were, a tremendouscommotion. A door opened with a clatter, and I heard the peremptory andcommanding tones of a human voice calling aloud in a language I couldnot comprehend. It was Smith, my fellow-lodger, calling up the stairs;and his voice had not sounded for more than a few seconds, when I feltsomething withdrawn from my presence, from my person, indeed from myvery skin. It seemed as if there was a rushing of air and some largecreature swept by me at about the level of my shoulders. Instantly thepressure on my heart was relieved, and the atmosphere seemed to resumeits normal condition."Smith's door closed quietly downstairs, as I put the lamp down withtrembling hands. What had happened I do not know; only, I was aloneagain and my strength was returning as rapidly as it had left me."I went across the room and examined myself in the glass. The skin wasvery pale, and the eyes dull. My temperature, I found, was a littlebelow normal and my pulse faint and irregular. But these smaller signsof disturbance were as nothing compared with the feeling I had--thoughno outward signs bore testimony to the fact--that I had narrowly escapeda real and ghastly catastrophe. I felt shaken, somehow, shaken to thevery roots of my being."The doctor rose from his chair and crossed over to the dying fire, sothat no one could see the expression on his face as he stood with hisback to the grate, and continued his weird tale."It would be wearisome," he went on in a lower voice, looking over ourheads as though he still saw the dingy top floor of that hauntedEdinburgh lodging-house; "it would be tedious for me at this length oftime to analyse my feelings, or attempt to reproduce for you thethorough examination to which I endeavoured then to subject my wholebeing, intellectual, emotional, and physical. I need only mention thedominant emotion with which this curious episode left me--the indignantanger against myself that I could ever have lost my self-control enoughto come under the sway of so gross and absurd a delusion. This protest,however, I remember making with all the emphasis possible. And I alsoremember noting that it brought me very little satisfaction, for it wasthe protest of my reason only, when all the rest of my being was up inarms against its conclusions."My dealings with the 'delusion,' however, were not yet over for thenight; for very early next morning, somewhere about three o'clock, I wasawakened by a curiously stealthy noise in the room, and the next minutethere followed a crash as if all my books had been swept bodily fromtheir shelf on to the floor."But this time I was not frightened. Cursing the disturbance with allthe resounding and harmless words I could accumulate, I jumped out ofbed and lit the candle in a second, and in the first dazzle of theflaring match--but before the wick had time to catch--I was certain Isaw a dark grey shadow, of ungainly shape, and with something more orless like a human head, drive rapidly past the side of the wall farthestfrom me and disappear into the gloom by the angle of the door."I waited one single second to be sure the candle was alight, and thendashed after it, but before I had gone two steps, my foot stumbledagainst something hard piled up on the carpet and I only just savedmyself from falling headlong. I picked myself up and found that all thebooks from what I called my 'language shelf' were strewn across thefloor. The room, meanwhile, as a minute's search revealed, was quiteempty. I looked in every corner and behind every stick of furniture, anda student's bedroom on a top floor, costing twelve shillings a week, didnot hold many available hiding-places, as you may imagine."The crash, however, was explained. Some very practical and physicalforce had thrown the books from their resting-place. That, at least, wasbeyond all doubt. And as I replaced them on the shelf and noted that notone was missing, I busied myself mentally with the sore problem of howthe agent of this little practical joke had gained access to my room,and then escaped again. For my door was locked and bolted."Smith's odd question as to whether I was disturbed in the night, andhis warning injunction to let him know at once if such were the case,now of course returned to affect me as I stood there in the earlymorning, cold and shivering on the carpet; but I realised at the samemoment how impossible it would be for me to admit that a more thanusually vivid nightmare could have any connection with himself. I wouldrather stand a hundred of these mysterious visitations than consult sucha man as to their possible cause."A knock at the door interrupted my reflections, and I gave a start thatsent the candle grease flying."'Let me in,' came in Smith's voice."I unlocked the door. He came in fully dressed. His face wore a curiouspallor. It seemed to me to be under the skin and to shine through andalmost make it luminous. His eyes were exceedingly bright."I was wondering what in the world to say to him, or how he wouldexplain his visit at such an hour, when he closed the door behind himand came close up to me--uncomfortably close."'You should have called me at once,' he said in his whispering voice,fixing his great eyes on my face."I stammered something about an awful dream, but he ignored my remarkutterly, and I caught his eye wandering next--if any movement of thoseoptics can be described as 'wandering'--to the book-shelf. I watchedhim, unable to move my gaze from his person. The man fascinated mehorribly for some reason. Why, in the devil's name, was he up anddressed at three in the morning? How did he know anything had happenedunusual in my room? Then his whisper began again."'It's your amazing vitality that causes you this annoyance,' he said,shifting his eyes back to mine."I gasped. Something in his voice or manner turned my blood into ice."'That's the real attraction,' he went on. 'But if this continues one ofus will have to leave, you know.'"I positively could not find a word to say in reply. The channels ofspeech dried up within me. I simply stared and wondered what he wouldsay next. I watched him in a sort of dream, and as far as I canremember, he asked me to promise to call him sooner another time, andthen began to walk round the room, uttering strange sounds, and makingsigns with his arms and hands until he reached the door. Then he wasgone in a second, and I had closed and locked the door behind him."After this, the Smith adventure drew rapidly to a climax. It was a weekor two later, and I was coming home between two and three in the morningfrom a maternity case, certain features of which for the time being hadvery much taken possession of my mind, so much so, indeed, that I passedSmith's door without giving him a single thought."The gas jet on the landing was still burning, but so low that it madelittle impression on the waves of deep shadow that lay across thestairs. Overhead, the faintest possible gleam of grey showed that themorning was not far away. A few stars shone down through the sky-light.The house was still as the grave, and the only sound to break thesilence was the rushing of the wind round the walls and over the roof.But this was a fitful sound, suddenly rising and as suddenly fallingaway again, and it only served to intensify the silence."I had already reached my own landing when I gave a violent start. Itwas automatic, almost a reflex action in fact, for it was only when Icaught myself fumbling at the door handle and thinking where I couldconceal myself quickest that I realised a voice had sounded close besideme in the air. It was the same voice I had heard before, and it seemedto me to be calling for help. And yet the very same minute I pushed oninto the room, determined to disregard it, and seeking to persuademyself it was the creaking of the boards under my weight or the rushingnoise of the wind that had deceived me."But hardly had I reached the table where the candles stood when thesound was unmistakably repeated: 'Help! help!' And this time it wasaccompanied by what I can only describe as a vivid tactilehallucination. I was touched: the skin of my arm was clutched byfingers."Some compelling force sent me headlong downstairs as if the hauntingforces of the whole world were at my heels. At Smith's door I paused.The force of his previous warning injunction to seek his aid withoutdelay acted suddenly and I leant my whole weight against the panels,little dreaming that I should be called upon to give help rather thanto receive it."The door yielded at once, and I burst into a room that was so full of achoking vapour, moving in slow clouds, that at first I could distinguishnothing at all but a set of what seemed to be huge shadows passing inand out of the mist. Then, gradually, I perceived that a red lamp on themantelpiece gave all the light there was, and that the room which I nowentered for the first time was almost empty of furniture."The carpet was rolled back and piled in a heap in the corner, and uponthe white boards of the floor I noticed a large circle drawn in black ofsome material that emitted a faint glowing light and was apparentlysmoking. Inside this circle, as well as at regular intervals outside it,were curious-looking designs, also traced in the same black, smokingsubstance. These, too, seemed to emit a feeble light of their own."My first impression on entering the room had been that it was fullof--people, I was going to say; but that hardly expresses my meaning.Beings, they certainly were, but it was borne in upon me beyond thepossibility of doubt, that they were not human beings. That I had caughta momentary glimpse of living, intelligent entities I can never doubt,but I am equally convinced, though I cannot prove it, that theseentities were from some other scheme of evolution altogether, and hadnothing to do with the ordinary human life, either incarnate ordiscarnate."But, whatever they were, the visible appearance of them was exceedinglyfleeting. I no longer saw anything, though I still felt convinced oftheir immediate presence. They were, moreover, of the same order of lifeas the visitant in my bedroom of a few nights before, and theirproximity to my atmosphere in numbers, instead of singly as before,conveyed to my mind something that was quite terrible and overwhelming.I fell into a violent trembling, and the perspiration poured from myface in streams."They were in constant motion about me. They stood close to my side;moved behind me; brushed past my shoulder; stirred the hair on myforehead; and circled round me without ever actually touching me, yetalways pressing closer and closer. Especially in the air just over myhead there seemed ceaseless movement, and it was accompanied by aconfused noise of whispering and sighing that threatened every moment tobecome articulate in words. To my intense relief, however, I heard nodistinct words, and the noise continued more like the rising and fallingof the wind than anything else I can imagine."But the characteristic of these 'Beings' that impressed me moststrongly at the time, and of which I have carried away the mostpermanent recollection, was that each one of them possessed what seemedto be a vibrating centre which impelled it with tremendous force andcaused a rapid whirling motion of the atmosphere as it passed me. Theair was full of these little vortices of whirring, rotating force, andwhenever one of them pressed me too closely I felt as if the nerves inthat particular portion of my body had been literally drawn out,absolutely depleted of vitality, and then immediately replaced--butreplaced dead, flabby, useless."Then, suddenly, for the first time my eyes fell upon Smith. He wascrouching against the wall on my right, in an attitude that wasobviously defensive, and it was plain he was in extremities. The terroron his face was pitiable, but at the same time there was anotherexpression about the tightly clenched teeth and mouth which showed thathe had not lost all control of himself. He wore the most resoluteexpression I have ever seen on a human countenance, and, though for themoment at a fearful disadvantage, he looked like a man who hadconfidence in himself, and, in spite of the working of fear, was waitinghis opportunity."For my part, I was face to face with a situation so utterly beyond myknowledge and comprehension, that I felt as helpless as a child, and asuseless."'Help me back--quick--into that circle,' I heard him half cry, halfwhisper to me across the moving vapours."My only value appears to have been that I was not afraid to act.Knowing nothing of the forces I was dealing with I had no idea of thedeadly perils risked, and I sprang forward and caught him by the arms.He threw all his weight in my direction, and by our combined efforts hisbody left the wall and lurched across the floor towards the circle."Instantly there descended upon us, out of the empty air of thatsmoke-laden room, a force which I can only compare to the pushing,driving power of a great wind pent up within a narrow space. It wasalmost explosive in its effect, and it seemed to operate upon all partsof my body equally. It fell upon us with a rushing noise that filled myears and made me think for a moment the very walls and roof of thebuilding had been torn asunder. Under its first blow we staggered backagainst the wall, and I understood plainly that its purpose was toprevent us getting back into the circle in the middle of the floor."Pouring with perspiration, and breathless, with every muscle strainedto the very utmost, we at length managed to get to the edge of thecircle, and at this moment, so great was the opposing force, that I feltmyself actually torn from Smith's arms, lifted from my feet, and twirledround in the direction of the windows as if the wheel of some greatmachine had caught my clothes and was tearing me to destruction in itsrevolution."But, even as I fell, bruised and breathless, against the wall, I sawSmith firmly upon his feet in the circle and slowly rising again to anupright position. My eyes never left his figure once in the next fewminutes."He drew himself up to his full height. His great shoulders squaredthemselves. His head was thrown back a little, and as I looked I saw theexpression on his face change swiftly from fear to one of absolutecommand. He looked steadily round the room and then his voice began tovibrate. At first in a low tone, it gradually rose till it assumed thesame volume and intensity I had heard that night when he called up thestairs into my room."It was a curiously increasing sound, more like the swelling of aninstrument than a human voice; and as it grew in power and filled theroom, I became aware that a great change was being effected slowly andsurely. The confusion of noise and rushings of air fell into the roll oflong, steady vibrations not unlike those caused by the deeper pedals ofan organ. The movements in the air became less violent, then grewdecidedly weaker, and finally ceased altogether. The whisperings andsighings became fainter and fainter, till at last I could not hear themat all; and, strangest of all, the light emitted by the circle, as wellas by the designs round it, increased to a steady glow, casting theirradiance upwards with the weirdest possible effect upon his features.Slowly, by the power of his voice, behind which lay undoubtedly agenuine knowledge of the occult manipulation of sound, this mandominated the forces that had escaped from their proper sphere, untilat length the room was reduced to silence and perfect order again."Judging by the immense relief which also communicated itself to mynerves I then felt that the crisis was over and Smith was wholly masterof the situation."But hardly had I begun to congratulate myself upon this result, and togather my scattered senses about me, when, uttering a loud cry, I sawhim leap out of the circle and fling himself into the air--as it seemedto me, into the empty air. Then, even while holding my breath for dreadof the crash he was bound to come upon the floor, I saw him strike witha dull thud against a solid body in mid-air, and the next instant he waswrestling with some ponderous thing that was absolutely invisible to me,and the room shook with the struggle."To and fro they swayed, sometimes lurching in one direction,sometimes in another, and always in horrible proximity to myself, as Ileaned trembling against the wall and watched the encounter."It lasted at most but a short minute or two, ending as suddenly as ithad begun. Smith, with an unexpected movement, threw up his arms with acry of relief. At the same instant there was a wild, tearing shriek inthe air beside me and something rushed past us with a noise like thepassage of a flock of big birds. Both windows rattled as if they wouldbreak away from their sashes. Then a sense of emptiness and peacesuddenly came over the room, and I knew that all was over."Smith, his face exceedingly white, but otherwise strangely composed,turned to me at once."'GodYou deflected the stream; broke it up--' hewhispered. 'You saved me.'"The doctor made a long pause. Presently he felt for his pipe in thedarkness, groping over the table behind us with both hands. No one spokefor a bit, but all dreaded the sudden glare that would come when hestruck the match. The fire was nearly out and the great hall was pitchdark.But the story-teller did not strike that match. He was merely gainingtime for some hidden reason of his own. And presently he went on withhis tale in a more subdued voice."I quite forget," he said, "how I got back to my own room. I only knowthat I lay with two lighted candles for the rest of the night, and thefirst thing I did in the morning was to let the landlady know I wasleaving her house at the end of the week."Smith still has my Rabbinical Treatise. At least he did not return itto me at the time, and I have never seen him since to ask for it."
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