worriedman
,
not
with
intentional
unkindness
,
but
yet
with
that
unimaginative
want
of
sympathy
which
is
often
the
instinctive
attitude
of
the
sound
towards
the
unsound
.
He
hated
sickness
,
and
seemed
at
present
surrounded
by
it
.
His
wife
had
taken
ill
the
year
before
,
had
undergone
a
grave
operation
in
the
winter
,
and
was
still
a
great
anxiety
to
him
.
But
that
was
another
and
a
far
more
serious
matter
;
he
had
patience
and
sympathy
enough
with
his
wife
.
The
case
of
the
boy
was
very
different
.
Himself
a
man
of
much
bodily
and
mental
vigour
,
Mr.
Upton
expected
his
own
qualities
of
his
own
children
;
he
had
always
resented
their
apparent
absence
in
his
youngest
born
.
The
others
were
good
specimens
;
why
should
Tony
be
a
weakling
?
Was
he
such
a
weakling
as
was
made
out
?
Mr.
Upton
was
often
sceptical
on
the
point
;
but
then
he
had
always
heard
more
about
the
asthma
than
he
had
seen
for
himself
.
If
the
boy
was
not
down
to
breakfast
in
the
holidays
,
he
was
supposed
to
have
had
a
bad
night
;
yet
later
in
the
day
he
would
be
as
bright
as
anybody
,
at
times
indeed
the
brightest
of
the
party
.
That
,
however
,
was
usually
when
Lettice
drew
him
out
in
the
absence
of
the
two
athletes
;
he
was
another
creature
then
,
excitable
,
hilarious
,
and
more
capable
of
taking
the
busy
man
out
of
himself
than
any
of
his
other
children
.
But
Lettice
overdid
matters
;
she
made
far
too
much
of
the
boy
and
his
complaint
,
and
was
inclined
to
encourage
him
in
random
remedies
.
Cigarettes
at
his
age
,
even
if
said
to
be
cigarettes
for
asthma
,
suggested
a
juvenile
pose
to
the
man
who
had
never
studied
that
disorder
.
The
specialist
in
London
seemed
another
mistake
on
the
part
of
that
managing
Lettice
,
who
had
quite
assumed
the
family
lead
of
late
.
And
altogether
Mr.
Upton
,
though
he
saw
the
matter
from
a
different
point
of
view
,
was
not
far
from
agreeing
with
his
eldest
son
about
his
youngest
.
And
what
chance
was
there
for
a
boy
whose
own
father
thought
he
posed
,
whose
brothers
considered
him
a
bit
of
a
malingerer
,
and
his
schoolfellows
“
a
conscientious
ass
,
”
while
his
sister
spoilt
him
for
un
enfant
incompris
?
You
may
say
it
would
have
taken
a
miracle
to
make
an
ordinary
decent
fellow
of
him
.
Well
,
it
was
a
night
of
strange
happenings
to
the
boy
and
his
people
;
perhaps
it
was
the
one
authentic
type
of
miracle
that
capped
all
in
the
morning
.
The
father
had
gone
to
bed
at
midnight
,
after
an
extra
allowance
of
whisky-and-water
to
take
the
extra
worry
off
his
mind
;
it
did
so
for
a
few
hours
only
to
stretch
him
tragically
awake
in
the
early
morning
.
The
birds
were
singing
down
in
Leicestershire
as
in
Hyde
Park
.
The
morning
sun
was
slanting
over
town
and
country
,
and
the
father
's
thoughts
were
with
his
tiresome
son
in
town
.
Suddenly
a
shrill
cry
came
from
the
adjoining
room
.
In
a
trice
the
wakeful
man
was
at
his
sick
wife
's
side
,
supporting
her
in
bed
as
she
sat
up
wildly
staring
,
trembling
in
his
arms
.
“
Tony
!
”
she
gasped
.
“
My
Tony
!
”
“
I
was
just
thinking
of
him
!
”
he
cried
.
“
What
about
him
,
dear
?
”
“
I
saw
him
,
”
she
quavered
.
“
I
saw
him
plainer
than
I
see
you
now
.
And
I
'm
almost
positive
I
heard
—
a
shot
!
”
A
GRIM
SAMARITAN
Though
he
afterwards
remembered
a
shout
as
well
,
it
actually
was
the
sound
of
a
shot
that
brought
the
boy
to
his
senses
in
Hyde
Park
.
He
opened
his
eyes
on
a
dazzle
of
broad
daylight
and
sparkling
grass
.
The
air
was
strangely
keen
for
the
amount
of
sunshine
,
the
sunshine
curiously
rarefied
,
and
the
grass
swept
grey
where
it
did
not
sparkle
.
Pocket
's
first
sensation
was
an
empty
stomach
,
and
his
next
a
heavy
head
into
which
the
puzzle
of
his
position
entered
by
laborious
steps
.
He
was
not
in
bed
.
He
was
not
at
school
.
He
was
not
even
under
the
shrub
he
now
remembered
in
a
mental
flash
which
lit
up
all
his
adventures
overnight
.
He
was
wandering
ankle
deep
in
the
dew
,
towards
a
belt
of
poplars
like
birch-rods
on
the
skyline
,
and
a
row
of
spiked
palings
right
in
front
of
his
nose
.
He
had
walked
in
his
sleep
for
the
first
time
for
years
,
and
some
one
had
fired
a
shot
to
wake
him
.
Slow
as
these
automatic
discoveries
had
seemed
,
they
had
been
in
reality
so
swift
that
the
report
was
still
ringing
in
his
ears
when
he
who
must
have
made
it
sprang
hideously
into
being
across
the
palings
.
A
hand
darted
through
them
and
caught
Pocket
's
wrist
as
in
a
vice
.
And
he
looked
up
over
the
spikes
into
a
gnarled
face
tinged
with
fear
and
fury
,
and
working
spasmodically
at
the
suppression
of
some
incomprehensible
emotion
.
“
Do
you
know
what
you
did
?
”
the
man
demanded
in
the
end
.
The
question
seemed
an
odd
one
,
but
a
very
slight
foreign
accent
,
not
to
be
reproduced
phonetically
,
corresponded
with
the
peculiarity
of
tense
,
reminding
Pocket
of
the
music-masters
at
his
school
.
It
was
less
easy
to
account
for
the
tone
employed
,
which
was
low
in
pitch
and
tremulous
with
passion
.
And
the
man
stood
tall
and
dominant
,
with
a
silver
stubble
on
an
iron
jaw
,
and
a
weird
cloak
and
hat
that
helped
to
invest
him
with
the
goblin
dignity
of
a
Spanish
inquisitor
;
no
wonder
his
eyes
were
like
cold
steel
in
quivering
flesh
.
“
I
must
have
been
walking
in
my
sleep
,
”
began
Pocket
,
shakily
;
further
explanations
were
cut
very
short
.
“
Sleep
!
”
echoed
the
other
,
in
bitter
unbelief
.
Pocket
felt
his
prime
quality
impugned
.
“
Well
?
I
ca
n't
help
it
!
I
've
done
it
before
to-day
;
you
need
n't
believe
me
if
you
do
n't
like
!
Do
you
mind
letting
go
of
my
hand
?
”
“
With
that
in
it
!
”
The
scornful
tone
made
the
boy
look
down
,
and
there
was
the
pistol
he
had
strapped
to
his
wrist
,
not
only
firm
in
his
unconscious
clasp
,
but
his
finger
actually
on
the
trigger
.
“
You
do
n't
mean
to
say
I
let
it
off
?
”
cried
Pocket
,
horrified
.
“
Feel
the
barrel
.
”
The
tall
man
had
done
so
first
.
Pocket
touched
it
with
his
left
hand
.
The
barrel
was
still
warm
.
“
It
was
in
my
sleep
,
”
protested
Pocket
,
in
a
wheezy
murmur
.
“
I
'm
glad
to
hear
it
.
”
“
I
tell
you
it
was
!
”
The
tall
man
opened
his
lips
impulsively
,
but
shut
them
on
a
second
impulse
.
The
daggers
in
his
eyes
probed
deeper
into
those
of
the
boy
,
picking
his
brains
,
transfixing
the
secrets
of
his
soul
.
No
master
's
eye
had
ever
delved
so
deep
into
his
life
;
he
felt
as
though
the
very
worst
of
him
at
school
was
known
in
an
instant
to
this
dreadful
stranger
in
the
wilds
of
London
.
He
writhed
under
the
ordeal
of
that
protracted
scrutiny
.
He
tugged
to
free
his
imprisoned
wrist
.
His
captor
was
meanwhile
fumbling
with
a
penknife
in
his
unoccupied
hand
.
A
blade
was
slowly
opened
;
the
leather
watch-guard
was
sliced
through
in
a
second
;
the
revolver
dropped
harmlessly
into
the
dew
.
The
man
swooped
down
and
whipped
it
through
the
railings
with
a
snarl
of
satisfaction
.
“
And
now
,
”
said
he
,
releasing
Pocket
,
but
standing
by
with
his
weapon
,
“
I
suppose
you
know
that
,
apart
from
everything
else
,
you
had
no
right
to
spend
the
night
in
here
at
all
?
”
The
boy
,
already
suffering
from
his
humiliating
exertions
,
gasped
out
,
“
I
'm
not
the
only
one
!
”
He
had
just
espied
a
recumbent
figure
through
the
palings
;
it
was
that
of
a
dilapidated
creature
lying
prone
,
a
battered
hat
beside
him
,
on
the
open
grass
beyond
the
path
.
The
tall
man
merely
redoubled
his
scrutiny
of
the
face
in
front
of
,
him
,
without
so
much
as
a
glance
behind
.
“
That
,
”
said
he
,
“
is
the
sort
that
staggers
in
as
soon
as
the
gates
are
open
,
and
spends
the
day
sleeping
itself
sober
.
But
you
are
not
that
sort
at
all
,
and
you
have
spent
the
night
here
contrary
to
the
rules
.
Who
are
you
,
and
what
's
the
matter
with
you
?
”
“
Asthma
,
”
wheezed
Pocket
,
clinging
to
the
palings
in
dire
distress
.
“
So
I
thought
.
Yet
you
spend
your
night
on
the
wet
grass
!
”
“
I
had
nowhere
else
to
go
.
”
“
Have
you
come
up
from
the
country
?
”
“
To
see
a
doctor
about
it
!
”
cried
Pocket
bitterly
,
and
told
the
whole
truth
about
himself
in
a
series
of
stertorous
exclamations
.
It
scarcely
lessened
the
austerity
of
the
eyes
that
still
ran
him
through
and
through
;
but
the
hard
mouth
did
relax
a
little
;
the
lined
face
looked
less
deeply
slashed
and
furrowed
,
and
it
was
a
less
inhuman
voice
that
uttered
the
next
words
.
“
Well
,
we
must
get
you
out
of
this
,
my
young
fellow
!
Come
to
these
chairs
.
”
Pocket
crept
along
the
palings
towards
the
chairs
by
which
he
had
climbed
them
.
His
breathing
was
pitiful
now
.
The
stranger
accompanied
him
on
the
other
side
.
“
If
I
lift
one
over
,
and
lend
you
a
hand
,
do
you
think
you
can
manage
it
?
”
“
I
did
last
night
.
”
“
Here
,
then
.
Wait
a
bit
!
Can
you
tell
me
where
you
slept
?
”
Pocket
looked
round
and
pointed
.
“
Behind
that
bush
.
”
“
Have
you
left
nothing
there
?
”
“
Yes
;
my
bag
and
hat
!
”
In
his
state
it
took
him
some
time
to
go
and
fetch
them
;
he
was
nearly
suffocating
when
he
came
creeping
back
,
his
shoulders
up
to
his
ears
.
“
Stop
!
I
see
something
else
.
Is
that
medicine-bottle
yours
?
There
—
catching
the
sun
.
”
“
It
was
.
”
“
Bring
it
.
”
“
It
's
empty
.
”
“
Bring
it
!
”
Pocket
obeyed
.
The
strange
man
was
standing
on
a
chair
behind
the
palings
,
waiting
to
help
him
over
,
with
a
wary
eye
upon
the
path
.
But
no
third
creature
was
in
sight
except
the
insensate
sprawler
in
the
dew
.
Pocket
surmounted
the
obstacle
,
he
knew
not
how
;
he
was
almost
beside
himself
in
the
throes
of
his
attack
.
Later
,
he
feared
he
must
have
been
lifted
down
like
a
child
;
but
this
was
when
he
was
getting
his
breath
upon
a
seat
.
They
had
come
some
little
distance
very
slowly
,
and
Pocket
had
received
such
support
from
so
muscular
an
arm
as
to
lend
colour
to
his
humiliating
suspicion
.
His
grim
companion
spoke
first
.
“
Well
,
I
'm
sorry
for
you
.
But
I
feel
for
your
doctor
too
.
I
am
one
myself
.
”
Pocket
ignored
the
somewhat
pointed
statement
.
“
I
'll
never
forgive
the
brute
!
”
he
panted
.
“
Come
,
come
!
He
did
n't
send
you
to
sleep
in
the
Park
.
”
“
But
he
took
away
the
only
thing
that
does
me
any
good
.
”
“
What
's
that
?
”
“
Cigarettes
d'Auvergne
.
”
“
I
never
heard
of
them
.
”
“
They
're
the
only
thing
to
stop
it
,
and
he
took
away
every
one
I
had
.
”
But
even
as
he
spoke
Pocket
remembered
the
cigarette
he
had
produced
from
his
bag
,
but
lacked
the
moral
courage
to
light
,
in
the
train
.
He
had
slipped
it
into
one
of
his
pockets
,
not
back
into
the
box
.
He
felt
for
it
feverishly
.
He
gave
a
husky
cheer
as
his
fingers
closed
upon
the
palpable
thing
,
and
he
drew
forth
a
flattened
cylinder
the
size
of
a
cigarette
and
the
colour
of
a
cigar
.
The
boy
had
to
bite
off
both
ends
;
the
man
was
ready
with
the
match
.
Pocket
drank
the
crude
smoke
down
like
water
,
coughed
horribly
,
drank
deeper
,
coughed
the
tears
into
his
eyes
,
and
was
comparatively
cured
.
“
And
your
doctor
forbids
a
sovereign
remedy
!
”
said
his
companion
.
“
I
cannot
understand
him
,
and
I
'm
a
doctor
myself
.
”
His
voice
and
look
were
deliberate
even
for
him
.
“
My
name
is
Baumgartner
,
”
he
added
,
and
made
a
pause
.
“
I
do
n't
suppose
you
know
it
?
”
“
I
'm
not
sure
I
do
n't
,
”
replied
Pocket
,
swelling
with
breath
and
gratitude
;
but
in
truth
the
name
seemed
vaguely
familiar
to
him
.
“
A
schoolboy
in
the
country
,
”
observed
Dr.
Baumgartner
,
“
is
scarcely
likely
to
have
heard
of
me
;
but
if
you
inquire
here
in
London
you
will
find
that
I
am
not
unknown
.
I
propose
to
carry
you
off
to
my
house
for
breakfast
,
and
a
little
rest
.
That
is
,
”
added
the
doctor
,
with
his
first
smile
,
“
if
you
will
trust
yourself
to
me
first
and
make
your
inquiries
later
.
”
Pocket
scouted
the
notion
of
inquiries
in
an
impulsive
outburst
;
but
even
as
he
proceeded
to
mumble
out
his
thanks
he
could
not
help
feeling
it
would
have
been
less
embarrassing
to
know
more
exactly
whom
he
was
thanking
and
must
needs
accompany
now
.
Dr.
Baumgartner
?
Where
was
it
he
had
come
across
that
name
?
And
when
and
where
had
anybody
ever
seen
such
a
doctor
as
this
unshaven
old
fellow
in
the
cloak
and
hat
of
a
conspirator
by
limelight
?
But
the
schoolboy
had
still
to
learn
the
lesson
of
naked
personality
as
the
one
human
force
;
and
he
learnt
it
now
unknown
to
himself
.
The
gaunt
grey
man
stood
up
in
his
absurd
and
rusty
raiment
,
and
Pocket
thought
,
“
How
the
chaps
would
rag
him
at
school
!
”
because
the
dreadful
old
hat
and
cloak
suggested
a
caricature
of
a
master
's
cap
and
gown
.
But
there
was
no
master
at
Pocket
's
school
whom
he
would
not
sooner
have
disobeyed
than
this
shabby
stranger
with
the
iron-bound
jaw
and
the
wintry
smile
;
there
was
no
eye
on
the
staff
that
had
ever
made
him
quail
as
he
had
quailed
that
morning
before
these
penetrating
eyes
of
steel
.
Baumgartner
said
they
must
hurry
,
and
Pocket
had
his
asthma
back
in
the
first
few
yards
.
Baumgartner
said
they
could
buy
more
cigarettes
on
the
way
,
and
Pocket
kept
up
,
panting
,
at
his
side
.
In
the
cab
Baumgartner
said
,
“
Try
sitting
with
your
head
between
your
knees
.
”
Pocket
tried
it
like
a
lamb
.
They
had
encountered
a
young
man
or
so
hurrying
into
the
Park
with
towels
round
the
neck
but
no
collar
,
an
early
cavalcade
who
never
looked
at
them
,
and
that
was
about
all
until
the
hansom
had
been
hailed
outside
.
During
the
drive
,
which
seemed
to
Pocket
interminable
,
his
extraordinary
attitude
prevented
him
from
seeing
anything
but
his
own
boots
,
and
those
only
dimly
owing
to
the
apron
being
shut
and
indeed
pressing
uncomfortably
against
his
head
.
Yet
when
Dr.
Baumgartner
inquired
whether
that
did
not
make
him
easier
,
he
said
it
did
.
It
was
not
all
imagination
either
;
the
posture
did
relieve
him
;
but
it
was
none
the
less
disagreeable
to
be
driven
through
London
by
an
utter
stranger
,
and
not
to
see
the
names
of
the
streets
or
a
single
landmark
.
Pocket
had
not
even
heard
the
cabman
's
instructions
where
to
drive
;
they
had
been
given
after
he
got
in
.
His
ear
was
more
alert
now
.
He
noted
the
change
from
wood-paving
to
rough
metal
.
Then
more
wood
,
and
an
indubitable
omnibus
blundering
by
;
then
more
metal
,
in
better
repair
;
quieter
streets
,
the
tinkle
of
cans
,
the
milkman
's
queer
cry
;
and
finally
,
“
Next
to
the
right
and
the
fifth
house
on
your
left
,
”
in
the
voice
with
the
almost
imperceptibly
foreign
accent
.
The
fifth
house
on
the
left
was
exactly
like
the
fourth
and
the
sixth
from
the
little
Pocket
saw
of
any
of
them
.
He
was
hurried
up
a
tiled
path
,
none
too
clean
between
swarthy
and
lack-lustre
laurels
;
the
steps
had
not
been
“
done
”
;
the
door
wore
the
nondescript
complexion
of
prehistoric
paint
debased
by
the
caprices
of
the
London
climate
.
One
touch
of
colour
the
lad
saw
before
this
unpromising
portal
opened
and
shut
upon
him
:
he
had
already
passed
through
a
rank
of
pollard
trees
,
sprouting
emeralds
in
the
morning
sun
,
that
seemed
common
to
this
side
of
the
road
,
and
effectually
hid
the
other
.
Within
the
doctor
held
up
a
finger
and
they
both
trod
gently
.
The
passage
was
dark
and
short
.
The
stairs
began
abruptly
on
the
right
.
Baumgartner
led
the
way
past
a
closed
door
on
the
left
,
into
an
unexpectedly
bright
and
large
room
beyond
it
.
“
Sit
down
,
”
said
he
,
and
shut
the
door
softly
behind
him
.
Pocket
took
observations
from
the
edge
of
his
chair
.
The
room
was
full
of
walnut
trivialities
that
looked
aggressively
obsolete
in
the
sunshine
that
filled
it
and
flooded
a
green
little
garden
at
the
back
of
the
house
.
Dr.
Baumgartner
had
pulled
up
a
blind
and
opened
a
window
,
and
he
stood
looking
out
in
thought
while
Pocket
hurriedly
completed
his
optical
round
.
A
set
of
walnut
chairs
were
dreadfully
upholstered
in
faded
tapestry
;
but
a
deep
,
worn
one
looked
comfortable
enough
,
and
a
still
more
redeeming
feature
was
the
semi-grand
piano
.
There
were
books
,
too
,
and
in
the
far
corner
by
the
bow-window
a
glass
door
leading
into
a
conservatory
as
minute
as
Pocket
's
study
at
school
,
and
filled
with
geraniums
.
On
the
walls
hung
a
series
of
battle
engravings
,
one
representing
a
bloody
advance
over
ridged
fields
in
murderously
close
formation
,
others
the
storming
of
heights
and
villages
.
Baumgartner
met
his
visitor
's
eyes
with
the
faint
cold
smile
that
scarcely
softened
the
hoary
harshness
of
his
visage
.
“
I
was
present
at
some
of
those
engagements
,
”
said
he
.
“
They
were
not
worse
than
disarming
a
man
who
has
just
fired
a
revolver
in
his
sleep
!
”
He
flung
his
cloak
upon
one
of
the
walnut
chairs
,
and
Pocket
heard
the
pistol
inside
it
rattle
against
the
back
;
but
his
attention
was
distracted
before
he
had
time
to
resent
the
forgotten
fact
of
its
forcible
confiscation
.
Under
his
cloak
the
doctor
had
been
carrying
all
this
time
,
slung
by
a
strap
which
the
boy
had
noticed
across
his
chest
,
a
stereoscopic
camera
without
a
case
.
Pocket
exclaimed
upon
it
with
the
instructed
interest
of
a
keen
photographer
.
“
Do
you
take
photographs
?
”
asked
Baumgartner
,
a
reciprocal
note
in
his
unemotional
voice
.
“
Rather
!
”
cried
the
schoolboy
,
with
considerable
enthusiasm
.
“
It
's
the
only
thing
I
have
to
do
instead
of
playing
games
.
But
I
have
n't
got
an
instantaneous
camera
like
that
.
I
only
wish
I
had
!
”
And
he
looked
with
longing
eyes
at
the
substantial
oblong
of
wood
and
black
morocco
,
and
duplicate
lenses
like
a
pair
of
spectacles
,
which
the
doctor
had
set
between
them
on
one
of
the
fussy
little
walnut
tables
.
THE
GLASS
EYE
Dr.
Baumgartner
produced
a
seasoned
meerschaum
,
carved
in
the
likeness
of
a
most
ferocious
face
,
and
put
a
pinch
of
dark
tobacco
through
the
turban
into
the
bowl
.
“
You
see
,
”
said
he
,
“
I
must
have
my
smoke
like
you
!
I
ca
n't
do
without
it
either
,
though
what
is
your
misfortune
is
my
own
fault
.
So
you
are
also
a
photographer
!
”
he
added
,
as
the
fumes
of
a
mixture
containing
latakia
spiced
the
morning
air
.
“
I
am
only
a
beginner
,
”
responded
Pocket
,
“
but
a
very
keen
one
.
”
“
You
do
n't
merely
press
the
button
and
let
them
do
the
rest
?
”
suggested
the
doctor
,
smiling
less
coldly
under
the
influence
of
his
pipe
.
“
Rather
not
!
I
develop
,
print
,
tone
,
and
all
the
rest
of
it
;
that
's
half
the
fun
.
”
“
Plates
or
films
?
”
inquired
Baumgartner
,
with
an
approving
nod
.
“
Only
plates
,
I
'm
afraid
;
you
see
,
the
apparatus
is
an
old
one
of
my
father
's
.
”
And
honest
Pocket
was
beginning
to
blush
for
it
,
when
the
other
made
a
gesture
more
eloquent
and
far
more
foreign
than
his
speech
.
“
It
's
none
the
worse
for
that
,
”
said
he
.
“
So
far
we
have
much
in
common
,
for
I
always
use
plates
myself
.
But
what
we
put
upon
our
plates
,
there
's
the
difference
,
eh
?
”
“
I
should
imagine
so
,
”
said
Pocket
,
smiling
.
Dr.
Baumgartner
was
smiling
too
,
and
still
less
coldly
than
before
,
but
yet
darkly
to
himself
,
and
at
the
boy
rather
than
with
him
.
“
You
take
portraits
of
your
friends
,
perhaps
?
”
“
Yes
;
often
.
”
“
In
the
body
,
I
presume
?
”
Pocket
looked
nonplussed
.
“
You
only
take
them
in
the
flesh
?
”
“
Of
course
.
”
“
Exactly
!
I
take
the
spirit
,
”
said
the
doctor
;
“
that
's
the
difference
.
”
Pocket
watched
the
now
wonderfully
genial
countenance
of
Baumgartner
follow
the
brutal
features
of
the
meerschaum
Turk
through
a
melting
cloud
of
smoke
.
The
boy
had
been
taken
aback
.
But
his
bewilderment
was
of
briefer
duration
than
might
have
been
the
case
with
a
less
ardent
photographer
;
for
he
took
a
technical
interest
in
his
hobby
,
and
read
the
photographic
year-books
,
nearly
as
ravenously
as
Wisden
's
Almanacke
.
“
I
see
,
”
he
said
,
lukewarmly
.
“
You
go
in
for
psychic
photography
.
”
“
Psychic
,
”
said
Baumgartner
;
for
the
public
schoolboy
,
one
regrets
to
report
,
had
pronounced
the
word
to
rhyme
with
sly-chick
.
The
doctor
added
,
with
more
disdain
:
“
And
you
do
n't
believe
in
it
?
”
“
I
did
n't
say
so
.
”
“
But
you
looked
and
sounded
it
!
”
“
I
do
n't
set
myself
up
as
a
believer
or
unbeliever
,
”
said
the
boy
,
always
at
his
ease
on
a
subject
that
attracted
him
.
“
But
I
do
say
I
do
n't
believe
in
the
sort
of
thing
I
read
somewhere
last
holidays
.
It
was
in
a
review
of
a
book
on
that
sort
of
photography
.
The
chap
seemed
to
have
said
you
could
get
a
negative
of
a
spirit
without
exposing
the
plate
at
all
;
hide
away
your
plate
,
never
mind
your
lens
,
only
conjure
up
your
spirit
and
see
what
happens
.
I
'll
swear
nothing
ever
happened
like
that
!
There
may
be
ghosts
,
you
may
see
them
,
and
so
may
the
camera
,
but
not
without
focusing
and
exposing
like
you
've
got
to
do
with
ordinary
flesh
and
blood
!
”
The
youth
had
gone
further
and
flown
higher
than
he
meant
,
under
the
stimulus
of
an
encouragement
impossible
to
have
foreseen
.
And
the
doctor
had
come
to
his
feet
,
waving
eloquently
with
his
pipe
;
his
grey
face
beamed
warmly
;
his
eyes
were
lances
tipped
with
fire
.
“
Well
said
,
my
young
fellow
!
”
cried
he
.
“
I
agree
with
every
syllable
you
have
spoken
.
”
“
It
's
a
question
of
photography
,
not
of
spiritualism
,
”
concluded
Pocket
,
rounding
off
his
argument
in
high
excitement
.
“
I
agree
,
I
agree
!
All
that
is
rubbish
,
pure
moonshine
;
and
you
see
it
even
at
your
age
!
But
there
's
much
more
in
it
than
that
;
you
must
see
the
rest
as
well
,
since
you
see
so
far
so
clearly
.
”
The
boy
blushed
with
pleasure
,
determined
to
see
as
far
as
anybody
.
“
You
admit
there
may
be
such
things
as
ghosts
,
as
you
call
them
?
”
he
was
asked
as
by
an
equal
.
“
Certainly
,
sir
.
”
“
Visible
shapes
,
in
the
likeness
of
man
?
As
visible
and
yet
as
tangible
as
that
sunbeam
?
”
“
Rather
!
”
“
You
allow
that
the
camera
can
see
them
if
we
can
?
”
Pocket
allowed
it
like
the
man
he
was
being
made
to
feel
;
the
concession
gave
him
a
generous
glow
.
Promotion
had
come
to
him
by
giant
leaps
.
He
felt
five
years
older
in
fewer
minutes
.
“
Then
,
”
cried
the
doctor
,
with
further
flattery
in
his
air
of
triumph
,
“
then
you
admit
everything
!
You
may
not
see
these
images
,
but
I
may
.
I
may
not
see
them
,
but
my
lens
may
!
Think
how
much
that
glass
eye
throws
already
upon
the
retina
of
a
sensitised
film
that
our
living
lenses
fail
to
throw
upon
ours
;
think
of
all
that
escapes
the
eye
but
the
camera
catches
.
Take
two
crystal
vases
,
fill
one
with
one
acid
and
the
other
with
another
;
one
comes
out
like
water
as
we
see
it
;
the
other
,
though
not
less
limpid
in
our
sight
,
like
ink
.
The
eye
sees
through
it
,
but
not
the
lens
.
The
eye
sees
emptiness
as
though
the
acid
itself
were
pure
crystal
;
the
lens
flings
an
inky
image
on
the
plate
.
The
trouble
is
that
,
while
you
can
procure
that
acid
at
the
nearest
chemist
's
,
no
money
and
no
power
on
earth
can
summon
or
procure
at
will
the
spirit
which
once
was
man
.
”
His
voice
was
vibrant
and
earnest
as
it
had
been
when
Pocket
heard
it
first
an
hour
earlier
in
the
Park
.
It
was
even
as
passionate
,
but
this
was
the
passion
of
enthusiastic
endeavour
.
If
the
man
had
a
heart
at
all
,
it
was
in
this
wild
question
without
a
doubt
.
Even
the
schoolboy
perceived
this
dimly
.
There
was
something
else
which
had
become
clearer
to
him
with
each
of
these
later
remarks
.
Striking
as
they
seemed
to
him
,
they
were
not
wholly
unfamiliar
.
The
ring
of
novelty
was
wanting
to
his
ear
.
Suddenly
he
exclaimed
,
“
I
knew
I
knew
your
name
!
”
“
You
do
know
it
,
do
you
?
”
Baumgartner
spoke
ungraciously
,
as
though
the
announcement
was
discounted
by
the
interruption
it
entailed
.
“
It
was
in
connection
with
the
very
book
I
mentioned
.
I
knew
I
had
come
across
it
somewhere
.
”
“
You
read
the
correspondence
that
followed
the
review
?
”
“
Some
of
it
.
”
“
My
letter
among
others
?
”
“
Yes
!
I
remember
every
word
of
it
now
.
”
“
Then
you
recall
my
view
as
to
the
alleged
necessity
of
a
medium
's
co-operation
in
these
spirit-photographs
?
”
“
You
said
it
was
n't
necessary
,
if
I
remember
,
”
replied
Pocket
somewhat
tentatively
,
despite
his
boast
.
“
It
was
the
pith
and
point
of
my
contention
!
I
mentioned
the
two
moments
at
which
I
hold
that
a
man
's
soul
may
be
caught
apart
,
may
be
cut
off
from
his
body
by
no
other
medium
than
a
good
sound
lens
in
a
light-tight
camera
.
You
cannot
have
forgotten
them
if
you
read
my
letter
.
”
“
One
,
”
said
the
boy
,
“
was
the
moment
of
death
.
”
“
The
moment
of
dissolution
,
”
the
doctor
corrected
him
.
“
But
there
is
a
far
commoner
moment
than
that
,
one
that
occurs
constantly
to
us
all
,
whereas
dissolution
comes
but
once
.
”
Pocket
believed
he
remembered
the
other
instance
too
,
but
was
not
sure
about
it
,
the
fact
being
that
the
whole
momentous
letter
had
struck
him
as
too
fantastic
for
serious
consideration
.
That
,
however
,
he
could
not
and
dared
not
say
;
and
he
was
not
the
less
frightened
of
making
a
mistake
with
those
inspired
eyes
burning
fanatically
into
his
.
“
The
other
moment
,
”
the
doctor
said
at
last
,
with
a
pitying
smile
,
“
is
when
the
soul
returns
to
its
prison
after
one
of
those
flights
which
men
call
dreams
.
You
know
that
theory
of
the
dream
?
”
Baumgartner
asked
abruptly
.
The
answer
was
a
nod
as
hasty
,
but
the
doctor
seemed
unconvinced
,
for
he
went
on
didactically
:
“
You
visit
far
countries
in
your
dreams
;
your
soul
is
the
traveller
.
You
speak
to
the
absent
or
the
dead
;
it
is
your
soul
again
;
and
we
dismiss
the
miracle
as
a
dream
!
I
fix
the
moment
as
that
of
the
soul
's
return
because
its
departure
on
these
errands
is
imperceptible
,
but
with
its
return
we
awake
.
The
theory
is
that
in
the
moment
of
waking
the
whole
experience
happens
like
the
flash
of
an
electric
spark
.
”
The
boy
murmured
very
earnestly
that
he
saw
;
but
he
was
more
troubled
than
enlightened
,
and
what
he
did
see
was
that
he
had
picked
up
a
very
eccentric
acquaintance
indeed
.
He
was
not
a
little
scared
by
the
man
's
hard
face
and
molten
eyes
;
but
there
was
a
fascination
also
that
could
not
be
lost
upon
an
impressionable
temperament
,
besides
that
force
of
will
or
character
which
had
dominated
the
young
mind
from
the
first
.
He
began
to
wish
the
interview
at
an
end
—
to
be
able
to
talk
about
it
as
the
extraordinary
sequel
of
an
extraordinary
adventure
—
yet
he
would
not
have
cut
it
short
at
this
point
if
he
could
.
“
I
grant
you
,
”
continued
the
doctor
,
“
that
the
final
flight
of
soul
from
body
is
infinitely
the
more
precious
from
my
point
of
view
.
But
how
is
one
to
be
in
a
position
to
intercept
that
?
When
beloved
spirits
pass
it
would
be
cold-blooded
desecration
;
and
public
opinion
has
still
to
be
educated
up
to
psychical
vivisection
!
I
have
myself
tried
in
vain
to
initiate
such
education
.
I
have
applied
for
perfectly
private
admission
to
hospital
deathbeds
,
even
to
the
execution-shed
in
prisons
.
My
applications
have
been
peremptorily
refused
.
”
Pocket
's
thoughts
went
off
at
a
gruesome
tangent
.
“
You
could
see
a
man
hanged
!
”
he
shuddered
,
and
himself
saw
the
little
old
effigy
on
the
model
drop
in
Marylebone
Road
.
“
Why
not
?
”
asked
the
other
in
wide
wonder
.
“
But
as
I
am
not
allowed
,
”
he
continued
in
lighter
key
,
“
I
have
to
do
the
best
I
can
.
If
I
cannot
be
in
at
the
death
,
I
may
still
by
luck
be
in
at
a
dream
or
two
!
And
now
you
may
guess
why
I
wander
with
my
camera
where
men
come
in
to
sleep
in
broad
daylight
.
I
prowl
among
them
;
a
word
awakens
them
;
and
then
I
take
my
chance
.
”
“
They
're
not
all
like
that
man
this
morning
,
then
,
”
remarked
Pocket
,
looking
back
on
the
inanimate
clod
reclining
in
the
dew
.
The
doctor
deliberated
with
half-shut
eyes
that
seemed
to
burn
the
brighter
for
their
partial
eclipse
.
“
This
morning
,
”
he
rejoined
,
“
was
like
no
other
.
I
owe
you
some
confidence
in
the
matter
.
I
had
the
chance
of
a
lifetime
this
morning
—
thanks
to
you
!
”
“
Thanks
to
me
?
”
repeated
Pocket
.
A
flash
enlightened
him
.
“
Do
you
mean
to
say
I
—
you
took
me
—
walking
—
—
?
”
“
You
shall
see
my
meaning
,
”
replied
Baumgartner
,
rising
.
“
Wait
one
minute
.
”
He
was
not
gone
longer
.
Pocket
heard
him
on
the
other
side
of
double
doors
in
an
alcove
;
but
he
had
gone
out
into
the
passage
to
get
there
.
Running
water
and
the
chink
of
porcelain
were
specially
audible
in
his
absence
,
but
the
boy
was
thinking
of
another
sound
.
The
doctor
before
leaving
had
discarded
a
black
alpaca
jacket
,
light
as
a
pocket
handkerchief
,
which
had
fallen
so
softly
as
to
recall
by
contrast
the
noise
made
by
the
revolver
in
the
pocket
of
the
cloak
.
The
lad
was
promptly
seized
with
a
strong
desire
to
recover
his
property
;
he
was
within
an
ace
of
doing
so
,
the
cloak
containing
it
being
actually
in
his
hands
and
only
dropped
as
Baumgartner
returned
to
announce
that
all
was
ready
.
Sharp
to
the
left
,
at
the
end
of
the
passage
,
was
a
door
which
would
simply
have
been
a
second
way
into
the
drawing-room
had
the
double
doors
within
been
is
use
;
these
being
shut
,
the
space
behind
made
a
separate
chamber
which
again
reminded
the
schoolboy
of
his
study
,
that
smallest
of
small
rooms
.
This
one
was
as
narrow
,
only
twice
the
length
.
One
end
was
monopolised
by
the
door
that
admitted
them
,
the
other
by
a
window
from
floor
to
ceiling
.
And
this
window
was
in
two
great
sheets
of
ruby
glass
,
so
that
Pocket
looked
down
red-hot
iron
steps
into
a
crimson
garden
,
and
therefrom
to
his
companion
dyed
from
head
to
foot
like
Mephistopheles
.
“
This
is
something
like
a
dark-room
!
”
exclaimed
the
lad
as
the
door
was
shut
and
locked
behind
him
.
The
folding
doors
were
permanently
barred
by
shelves
and
lockers
;
opposite
was
a
long
porcelain
trough
,
pink
as
the
doctor
's
shirt-sleeves
in
the
strong
red
light
;
racks
of
negatives
and
stoppered
bottles
glimmered
over
brass
taps
stained
to
an
angry
copper
.
Everything
was
perfection
from
a
photographer
's
standpoint
;
the
boy
felt
instantaneously
spoilt
for
his
darkened
study
and
his
jugs
of
water
.
All
he
had
ever
sighed
for
in
the
prosecution
of
his
hobby
was
here
in
this
little
paradise
of
order
and
equipment
.
The
actual
work
,
he
felt
,
would
be
a
secondary
consideration
in
such
a
workshop
;
the
mere
manipulation
of
such
stoppered
bottles
as
his
host
was
handling
now
,
the
choice
of
graduated
phials
,
the
wealth
of
trays
and
dishes
,
would
have
been
joy
enough
for
him
.
He
watched
the
favoured
operator
with
a
watering
mouth
.
A
crimson
blind
had
been
lowered
to
reduce
the
light
;
the
doctor
had
turned
up
his
shirt-cuffs
;
his
wrists
were
muscular
and
furry
,
as
it
now
seemed
with
a
fiery
fur
,
yet
they
trembled
with
excitement
as
he
produced
his
plate
.
And
Pocket
remembered
how
extravagant
an
image
was
expected
on
that
plain
pink
surface
.
He
did
not
know
whether
to
expect
it
or
not
himself
.
It
was
difficult
to
believe
in
that
sort
of
thing
,
difficult
to
disbelieve
in
this
sort
of
man
,
who
entertained
no
shadow
of
doubt
himself
,
whose
excitement
and
suspense
were
as
infectious
as
everything
else
about
him
.
Pocket
had
come
into
the
dark-room
wheezing
almost
as
much
as
ever
;
he
was
not
to
be
heard
breathing
as
the
plate
was
rocked
to
and
fro
as
in
raspberry-juice
,
and
gradually
the
sky
showed
sharp
and
black
.
But
the
sky
it
was
that
puzzled
Pocket
first
.
It
was
broken
by
perpendicular
objects
like
white
torpedoes
.
He
was
photographer
enough
to
know
what
these
were
almost
at
once
;
they
were
those
poplars
in
the
park
.
But
how
could
Baumgartner
have
photographed
Pocket
with
those
poplars
behind
him
when
they
had
been
behind
Baumgartner
all
the
time
?
Pocket
said
to
himself
,
“
Where
am
I
,
by
the
way
?
”
and
bent
lower
to
see
.
His
ear
touched
the
doctor
's
;
it
heard
the
doctor
breathing
as
though
he
were
the
asthmatic
;
and
now
a
human
shape
was
visible
,
but
not
walking
in
its
sleep
,
lying
in
it
like
the
man
in
the
wet
grass
.
“
When
did
you
get
me
?
”
asked
Pocket
aloud
.
But
the
tense
crimson
face
paid
no
attention
;
in
the
ruby
light
it
was
glistening
as
though
with
beads
of
blood
.
“
There
!
there
!
there
!
”
croaked
a
voice
,
husky
and
yet
staccato
.
Pocket
could
scarcely
believe
it
was
the
voice
of
his
host
—
the
one
gentle
thing
about
him
.
“
You
saw
the
figure
?
Surely
you
saw
something
else
,
hovering
over
it
?
I
did
,
I
swear
I
did
!
But
now
we
shall
have
to
wait
.
”
The
plate
had
blackened
all
over
,
as
though
the
uncanny
thing
had
choked
out
its
life
.
It
was
meticulously
held
under
a
tap
,
between
fingers
that
most
distinctly
trembled
now
.
Then
he
plunged
it
in
the
hyposulphite
,
and
pulled
up
the
blind
.
The
sun
shone
again
through
the
tall
window
,
blood-red
as
before
;
grass
and
sky
were
as
richly
incarnadined
.
Baumgartner
babbled
while
he
waited
for
the
fixing-bath
to
clear
the
plate
.
The
chance
of
his
life
,
he
still
pronounced
it
.
“
And
I
owe
it
to
you
,
my
young
fellow
!
”
This
he
said
again
and
again
,
aloud
but
chiefly
to
himself
.
He
picked
up
the
plate
at
last
and
held
it
to
the
flaming
window
.
He
cried
out
in
German
to
himself
,
a
cry
the
schoolboy
never
forgot
.
“
Open
the
window
!
”
he
ordered
.
“
It
opens
like
a
door
.
”
Pocket
did
as
he
was
told
.
The
pure
white
sunlight
struck
him
momentarily
blind
.
Baumgartner
had
the
plate
under
the
tap
again
.
Pocket
thought
him
careless
with
it
,
thought
the
tap
on
too
full
;
it
was
held
up
an
instant
to
the
naked
sun
,
and
then
dashed
to
a
hundred
fragments
in
the
porcelain
trough
.
Pocket
knew
better
than
to
ask
a
question
.
He
followed
his
leader
back
into
the
drawing-room
,
and
watched
him
pick
up
his
coat
.
It
might
have
been
a
minute
before
their
eyes
met
again
;
the
doctor
's
were
calm
and
cold
and
critical
as
in
the
earlier
morning
.
It
was
another
failure
,
he
said
,
and
nothing
more
.
Breakfast
would
be
ready
soon
;
they
would
go
upstairs
;
and
if
his
young
fellow
felt
equal
to
a
warm
bath
,
he
thought
as
a
physician
it
might
do
him
good
.
AN
AWAKENING
It
was
a
normal
elderly
gentleman
,
with
certain
simple
habits
,
but
no
little
distinction
of
address
,
who
welcomed
the
schoolboy
at
his
breakfast-table
.
The
goblin
inquisitor
of
Hyde
Park
had
vanished
with
his
hat
and
cloak
.
The
excited
empiric
of
the
dark-room
was
a
creature
of
that
ruby
light
alone
.
Dr.
Baumgartner
was
shaved
and
clad
like
other
men
,
the
iron-grey
hair
carefully
brushed
back
from
a
lofty
forehead
,
all
traces
of
strong
acids
removed
from
his
well-kept
hands
.
There
was
a
third
person
,
and
only
a
third
,
at
table
in
the
immature
shape
of
a
young
lady
whom
the
doctor
introduced
as
his
niece
Miss
Platts
,
and
addressed
as
Phillida
.
Pocket
thought
he
had
never
heard
of
nobler
atonement
for
unmitigable
surname
.
He
could
not
help
thinking
that
this
Phillida
did
not
look
the
one
to
flout
a
fellow
,
after
the
fashion
of
the
only
other
Phillida
he
had
ever
heard
of
,
and
then
that
it
was
beastly
cheek
to
start
thinking
of
her
like
that
and
by
her
Christian
name
.
But
he
was
of
the
age
and
temperament
when
thoughts
will
come
of
contact
with
young
animals
of
the
opposite
sex
.
He
looked
at
her
sidelong
from
time
to
time
,
but
all
four
eyes
dropped
directly
they
met
;
she
seemed
as
shy
and
uninteresting
as
himself
;
her
conversation
was
confined
to
table
attentions
to
her
uncle
and
his
guest
.
Pocket
made
more
valiant
attempts
.
A
parlour
billiard-table
,
standing
against
the
wall
,
supplied
an
irresistible
topic
.
“
We
have
a
full-size
table
at
home
,
”
he
said
,
and
could
have
mutilated
his
tongue
that
instant
.
“
I
like
a
small
one
best
,
”
he
assured
the
doctor
,
who
shook
his
head
and
smiled
.
“
Honestly
,
sir
,
and
snob-cricket
better
than
the
real
thing
!
I
'm
no
good
at
real
games
.
”
The
statement
was
too
true
,
but
not
the
preference
.
“
That
must
be
awkward
for
you
,
at
an
English
public
school
,
”
was
the
doctor
's
comment
.
Pocket
heaved
an
ingenuous
sigh
.
It
was
hateful
.
He
blamed
the
asthma
as
far
as
modesty
would
permit
.
He
was
modest
enough
in
his
breakfast-table
talk
,
yet
nervously
egotistical
,
and
apt
to
involve
himself
in
lengthy
explanations
.
He
had
two
types
of
listener
—
the
dry
and
the
demure
—
to
all
he
said
.
“
And
they
let
you
come
up
to
London
alone
!
”
remarked
Dr.
Baumgartner
when
he
got
a
chance
.
“
But
it
was
n't
their
fault
that
I
—
—
”
Pocket
stopped
at
a
glance
from
his
host
,
and
plunged
into
profuse
particulars
exonerating
his
house-master
,
but
was
cut
short
again
.
Evidently
the
niece
was
not
to
know
where
he
had
spent
the
night
.
“
I
suppose
there
are
a
number
of
young
men
at
your
—
establishment
?
”
said
the
doctor
,
exchanging
a
glance
with
Miss
Platts
.
“
There
are
over
four
hundred
boys
,
”
replied
Pocket
,
a
little
puzzled
.
“
And
how
many
keepers
do
they
require
?
”
A
grin
apologised
for
the
word
.
“
There
must
be
over
thirty
masters
,
”
returned
Pocket
more
pointedly
than
before
.
He
was
not
going
to
stand
chaff
about
his
public
school
from
a
mad
German
doctor
.
“
And
they
arm
you
for
the
battle
of
life
with
Latin
and
Greek
,
eh
?
”
“
Not
necessarily
;
there
's
a
Modern
Side
.
You
can
learn
German
if
you
like
!
”
said
Pocket
,
not
without
contempt
.
“
Do
you
?
”
“
I
do
n't
like
,
”
said
the
boy
gratuitously
.
“
Then
we
must
stick
to
your
excellent
King
's
English
.
”
Pocket
turned
a
trifle
sulky
.
He
felt
he
had
not
scored
in
this
little
passage
.
Then
he
reflected
upon
the
essential
and
extraordinary
kindness
which
had
brought
him
to
a
decent
breakfast-table
that
morning
.
That
made
him
ashamed
;
nor
could
he
have
afforded
to
be
too
independent
just
yet
,
even
had
he
been
so
disposed
in
his
heart
.
His
asthma
was
a
beast
that
always
growled
in
the
background
;
he
never
knew
when
it
would
spring
upon
him
with
a
roar
.
Breakfast
pacified
the
brute
;
hot
coffee
always
did
;
but
the
effects
soon
wore
off
,
and
the
boy
was
oppressed
again
,
yet
deadly
weary
,
long
before
it
was
time
for
him
to
go
to
Welbeck
Street
.
“
Is
there
really
nothing
you
can
take
?
”
asked
Dr.
Baumgartner
,
standing
over
him
in
the
drawing-room
,
where
Pocket
sat
hunched
up
in
the
big
easy-chair
.
“
Nothing
now
,
I
'm
afraid
,
unless
I
could
get
some
of
those
cigarettes
.
And
Dr.
Bompas
would
kick
up
an
awful
row
!
”
“
But
it
's
inhuman
.
I
'll
go
and
get
them
myself
.
He
should
prescribe
for
such
an
emergency
.
”
“
He
has
,
”
said
Pocket
.
“
I
've
got
some
stuff
in
my
bag
;
but
it
's
no
use
taking
it
now
.
It
's
meant
to
take
in
bed
when
you
can
have
your
sleep
out
.
”
And
he
was
going
into
more
elaborate
details
than
Dr.
Bompas
had
done
,
when
the
other
doctor
cut
him
short
once
more
.
“
But
why
not
now
?
You
can
sleep
to
your
heart
's
content
in
that
chair
;
nobody
will
come
in
.
”
Pocket
shook
his
head
.
“
I
'm
due
in
Welbeck
Street
at
twelve
.
”
“
Well
,
I
'll
wake
you
at
quarter
to
,
and
have
a
taxi
ready
at
the
door
.
That
will
give
you
a
good
two
hours
.
”
Pocket
hesitated
,
remembering
the
blessed
instantaneous
effect
of
the
first
bottle
under
the
bush
.
“
Would
you
promise
to
wake
me
,
sir
?
You
're
not
going
out
?
”
“
I
shall
be
in
again
.
”
“
Then
it
is
a
promise
?
”
Pocket
would
have
liked
it
in
black
and
white
.
“
Certainly
,
my
young
fellow
!
Is
the
stuff
in
your
bag
?
”
It
was
,
and
the
boy
took
it
with
much
the
same
results
as
overnight
.
It
tasted
sweeter
and
acted
quicker
;
that
was
the
only
difference
.
The
skin
seemed
to
tighten
on
his
face
.
His
fingers
tingled
at
the
ends
It
was
not
at
all
an
unpleasant
sensation
,
especially
as
the
labour
in
his
breast
came
to
an
end
as
if
by
magic
.
The
faintly
foreign
accents
of
Dr.
Baumgartner
sounded
unduly
distant
in
his
last
words
from
the
open
door
.
It
was
scarcely
shut
before
the
morning
's
troubles
ceased
deliciously
in
the
cosy
chair
.
Yet
they
seemed
to
begin
again
directly
,
and
this
was
a
horrid
crop
!
Of
course
he
was
back
in
Hyde
Park
;
but
the
sky
must
have
rained
red
paint
in
his
absence
,
or
else
the
earth
was
red-hot
and
the
sky
reflected
it
.
No
!
the
grass
was
too
wet
for
that
.
It
might
have
been
wet
with
blood
.
Everything
was
as
red
as
beet-root
,
as
wet
and
red
and
one
's
body
weltering
in
it
like
the
slain
!
Reddest
of
all
was
the
old
photographer
,
who
turned
into
Mr.
Spearman
in
cap
and
gown
,
who
turned
into
various
members
of
the
Upton
family
,
one
making
more
inconsequent
remarks
than
the
other
,
touching
wildly
on
photography
and
the
flitting
soul
,
and
between
them
working
the
mad
race
up
to
such
a
pace
and
pitch
that
Pocket
woke
with
a
dreadful
start
to
find
Dr.
Baumgartner
standing
over
him
once
more
in
the
perfectly
pallid
flesh
.
“
I
've
had
a
beast
of
a
dream
!
”
said
Pocket
,
waking
thoroughly
.
“
I
'm
in
a
cold
perspiration
,
and
I
thought
it
was
cold
blood
!
What
time
is
it
?
”
“
A
quarter
to
six
,
”
said
the
doctor
,
who
had
invited
the
question
by
taking
out
his
watch
.
“
A
quarter
to
twelve
,
you
mean
!
”
“
No
—
six
.
”
And
the
boy
was
shown
the
dial
,
but
would
not
believe
it
until
he
had
gaped
at
his
own
watch
,
which
had
stopped
at
half-past
three
.
Then
he
bounded
to
his
feet
in
a
puerile
passion
,
and
there
lay
the
little
garden
,
a
lake
of
sunlight
as
he
remembered
it
,
swallowed
up
entirely
in
the
shadow
of
the
house
.
“
You
promised
to
wake
me
!
”
gasped
Pocket
,
almost
speechless
.
“
You
've
broken
your
word
,
sir
!
”
“
Only
in
your
own
interest
,
”
replied
the
other
calmly
.
“
I
believe
you
were
waiting
for
me
to
wake
—
to
catch
my
soul
,
or
some
rot
!
”
cried
the
boy
,
with
bitter
rudeness
;
but
he
looked
in
vain
for
the
stereoscopic
or
any
other
sort
of
camera
,
and
Dr.
Baumgartner
only
shrugged
his
shoulders
as
he
opened
an
evening
paper
.
“
I
apologise
for
saying
that
,
”
the
boy
resumed
,
with
a
dignity
that
sounded
near
to
tears
.
“
I
know
you
meant
it
for
the
best
—
to
make
up
for
my
bad
night
—
you
've
been
very
kind
to
me
,
I
know
!
But
I
was
due
in
Welbeck
Street
at
twelve
o'clock
,
and
now
I
shall
have
to
bolt
to
catch
the
six-thirty
from
St.
Pancras
.
”
“
You
wo
n't
catch
the
six-thirty
from
St.
Pancras
,
”
replied
Baumgartner
,
scarcely
looking
up
from
his
paper
.
“
I
will
unless
I
'm
in
some
outlandish
part
of
London
!
”
cried
Pocket
,
reflecting
for
the
first
time
that
he
had
no
idea
in
what
part
of
London
he
was
.
“
I
must
catch
it
.
It
's
the
last
train
back
to
school
.
I
'll
get
into
an
awful
row
if
I
do
n't
!
”
“
You
'll
get
into
a
worse
one
if
you
do
,
”
rejoined
the
doctor
,
looking
over
his
paper
,
and
not
unfeelingly
,
at
the
boy
.
“
What
about
?
”
Pocket
held
his
breath
instinctively
as
their
eyes
met
.
Baumgartner
answered
with
increased
compassion
and
restraint
,
a
grey
look
on
his
grey
face
:
“
Something
that
happened
this
morning
.
I
fear
you
will
be
wanted
here
in
town
about
it
.
”
“
Do
tell
me
what
,
sir
!
”
“
Can
you
face
things
,
my
young
fellow
?
”
“
Is
it
about
my
people
—
my
mother
?
”
the
boy
cried
wildly
,
at
her
funeral
in
a
flash
.
“
No
—
yourself
.
”
“
Then
I
can
!
”
The
doctor
overcame
his
final
hesitation
.
“
Do
you
remember
a
man
we
left
behind
us
on
the
grass
?
”
“
Perfectly
;
the
grass
looked
as
wet
as
it
felt
just
now
in
my
dream
.
”
“
Exactly
.
Did
n't
it
strike
you
as
strange
that
he
should
be
lying
there
in
the
wet
grass
?
”
“
I
thought
he
was
drunk
.
”
“
He
was
dead
!
”
Pocket
was
shocked
;
he
was
more
than
shocked
,
for
he
had
never
witnessed
death
before
;
but
next
moment
the
shock
was
uncontrollably
mitigated
by
a
sudden
view
of
the
tragic
incident
as
yet
another
adventure
of
that
adventurous
night
.
No
doubt
one
to
retail
in
reverential
tones
,
but
a
most
thrilling
adventure
none
the
less
.
He
only
failed
to
see
why
it
should
affect
him
as
much
as
the
doctor
suggested
.
True
,
he
might
be
called
as
witness
at
the
inquest
;
his
very
natural
density
was
pierced
with
the
awkward
possibility
of
that
.
But
then
he
had
not
even
known
the
man
was
dead
.
Had
the
doctor
?
Yes
.
Pocket
wondered
why
he
had
not
been
told
at
the
time
,
but
asked
another
question
first
.
“
What
did
he
die
of
?
”
“
A
bullet
!
”
“
Suicide
?
”
“
No.
”
“
Not
murder
?
”
“
This
paper
says
so
.
”
“
Does
it
say
who
did
it
?
”
“
It
cannot
.
”
“
Can
you
?
”
“
Yes
!
”
“
Tell
me
.
”
The
doctor
threw
out
both
hands
in
a
despairing
gesture
.
“
Have
I
to
tell
you
outright
,
my
young
fellow
,
that
you
did
it
yourself
?
”
BLOOD-GUILTY
His
overwhelming
horror
was
not
alleviated
by
a
moment
's
doubt
.
He
marvelled
rather
that
he
had
never
guessed
what
he
had
done
.
The
walking
in
his
sleep
,
the
shot
that
woke
him
,
the
first
words
of
Dr.
Baumgartner
,
his
first
swift
action
,
and
the
warm
pistol
in
his
own
unconscious
hand
:
these
burning
memories
spoke
more
eloquently
than
any
words
.
They
would
have
told
their
own
tale
at
once
,
if
only
he
had
known
the
man
was
dead
.
Why
had
he
been
deceived
?
It
was
cruel
,
it
was
infamous
,
to
have
kept
the
truth
from
him
for
a
single
instant
.
Thus
wildly
did
the
stricken
youth
turn
and
rend
his
benefactor
for
the
very
benefaction
of
a
day
's
rest
in
ignorance
of
his
deed
.
The
doctor
defended
himself
firmly
,
frankly
,
with
much
patience
and
some
cynicism
.
Pocket
was
reminded
of
the
state
he
himself
had
been
in
at
the
time
.
He
also
might
have
been
a
dying
man
,
he
was
assured
,
and
could
well
believe
on
looking
back
.
Baumgartner
had
actually
opened
his
lips
to
tell
him
the
truth
,
but
had
checked
himself
in
sheer
humanity
.
Again
the
boy
could
confirm
the
outward
detail
out
of
his
own
recollection
.
To
have
told
him
later
in
the
morning
,
the
doctor
went
on
to
say
,
with
an
emphasis
not
immediately
understood
,
could
have
undone
nothing
.
He
acknowledged
a
grave
responsibility
,
but
rightly
or
wrongly
he
had
put
the
living
before
the
dead
.
How
had
he
known
the
man
was
dead
?
Baumgartner
smiled
at
the
question
.
He
was
not
only
a
doctor
,
but
an
old
soldier
who
had
fought
in
one
at
least
of
the
bloodiest
battles
in
European
history
.
He
had
seen
too
many
men
fall
shot
through
the
heart
to
be
mistaken
for
a
moment
;
but
in
point
of
fact
he
had
confirmed
his
conviction
by
brief
examination
while
Pocket
was
fetching
his
things
from
behind
the
bush
.
Pocket
pressed
for
earlier
details
with
a
morbid
appetite
which
was
not
gratified
without
reluctance
,
and
out
of
a
laconic
interchange
the
deed
was
gradually
reconstructed
with
appealing
verisimilitude
.
It
was
Baumgartner
who
had
first
caught
sight
of
the
somnambulist
,
treading
warily
like
the
blind
,
yet
waving
the
revolver
as
he
went
,
as
though
any
moment
he
might
let
it
off
.
The
moment
came
with
a
wretched
reeling
man
who
joined
Baumgartner
on
the
path
,
and
would
not
be
warned
.
The
poor
man
had
raised
a
drunken
shout
and
been
shot
pointblank
through
the
heart
.
The
doctor
described
him
as
leaping
backward
from
the
levelled
barrel
,
then
into
the
air
and
down
in
the
dew
upon
his
face
.
The
boy
buried
his
face
and
wept
;
but
even
in
his
anguish
he
now
recalled
the
shout
before
the
shot
.
The
enforced
description
had
been
so
vivid
in
the
end
that
he
beheld
the
scene
as
plainly
as
though
he
had
been
wide
awake
.
Then
he
dwelt
upon
the
dead
man
,
looking
nothing
else
as
he
now
remembered
him
,
and
that
sent
him
off
at
a
final
tangent
.
He
cried
,
looking
up
with
a
shudder
for
all
his
tears
,
“
What
about
that
negative
you
smashed
?
It
was
the
poor
dead
man
all
the
time
!
”
“
It
was
,
”
replied
Baumgartner
;
“
but
it
was
never
meant
to
be
.
I
had
you
in
focus
when
you
fired
.
What
I
did
was
done
instinctively
,
but
with
time
to
think
I
should
have
done
just
the
same
.
You
had
given
me
the
chance
of
a
lifetime
,
though
nothing
has
come
of
it
so
far
.
And
that
was
another
reason
for
saving
you
,
ill
as
you
were
,
from
the
immediate
consequences
of
an
innocent
act
.
”
Pocket
was
passionately
honest
,
as
his
worst
friends
knew
;
he
had
an
instinctive
admiration
for
downright
honesty
in
another
.
His
young
soul
was
torn
with
grief
and
pity
for
the
dead
;
he
was
already
haunted
by
the
inevitable
and
complex
consequences
of
his
fatal
misadventure
,
and
yet
he
could
dimly
appreciate
the
candid
declaration
of
one
who
had
attempted
to
turn
that
tragedy
to
instantaneous
and
inconceivable
account
.
It
was
the
mistaken
kindness
to
himself
that
he
still
found
most
difficult
to
forgive
.
“
It
's
got
to
come
out
,
”
he
groaned
;
“
this
will
make
it
all
the
worse
.
”
“
You
mean
the
delay
?
”
“
Yes
!
Who
's
to
tell
them
I
did
n't
do
it
on
purpose
,
and
run
away
,
and
then
