Flames. Robert Hichens

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СКАЧАТЬ pleasure."

      He opened the side door and showed them into his sanctum beyond the glass window. It was a small, evil-looking room, crowded with fumes of stale tobacco. On the walls hung two or three French prints of more than doubtful decency. A table with a bottle and two or three glasses ranged on it occupied the middle of the floor. On a chair by the fire the Gil Bias was thrown in a crumpled attitude. One gas-burner flared, unshaded by any glass globe. Julian sat down on the Gil Bias. Valentine refused the landlord's offer of a chair, and stood looking rather contemptuously at the inartistic improprieties of the prints.

      "Did you let in the gentleman who came last night?" asked Julian.

      "But, sir, of course. I am always here. I mind my house. I see that only respect-"

      "Exactly. I don't doubt that for a moment. What was the lady like—the lady who accompanied him?"

      "Oh, sir, very chic, very pretty."

      "Didn't you hear her go out in the night?"

      The landlord looked for a moment as if he were considering the advisableness of a little bluster. He stared hard at Julian and thought better of it.

      "Not a sound, not a mouse. Till the bell rang I slept. Then she is gone!"

      "Would you recognize her again?"

      "But no. I hardly look at her, and I see so many."

      "Yes, yes, no doubt. And the gentleman. When you went into his room?"

      "Ah! He was half sitting up. I come in. He just look at me. He fall back.

       He is dead. He say nothing. Then I—I run."

      "That's all I wanted to know," Julian said. "Valentine, shall we go?"

      "By all means."

      The landlord seemed relieved at their decision, and eagerly let them out into the pouring rain. When they were in the dismal strip of garden Julian turned and looked up at the lit windows of the bedroom on the first story. Marr was lying there in the bright illumination at ease, relieved of his soul. But, as Julian looked, the two windows suddenly grew dark. Evidently the economical landlord had hastened up, observed the waste of the material he had to pay for, and abruptly stopped it. At the gate they called a cab.

      "No; let us have the glass up," Julian said; "a drop of rain more or less doesn't matter. And I want some air."

      "So do I," said Valentine. "The atmosphere of that house was abominable."

      "Of course there can be no two opinions as to its character," Julian said.

      "Of course not."

      "What a dreary place to die in!"

      "Yes. But does it matter where one dies? I think not. I attach immense importance to where one lives."

      "It seems horrible to come to an end in such a place, to have had that wretched Frenchman as the only witness of one's death. Still, I suppose it is only foolish sentiment. Valentine, did you notice how happy Marr looked?"

      "No."

      "Didn't you? I thought you watched him almost as if you wondered as I did."

      "How could I? I had never seen him before."

      "It was curious the landlord seeing a likeness between you and him."

      "Do you think so? The man naturally supposed one of us might be a relation, as we came to see Marr. I should not suppose there could be much resemblance."

      "There is none. It's impossible. There can be none!"

      They rattled on towards Piccadilly, back through the dismal thoroughfares, towards the asphalt ways of Bloomsbury. Presently Julian said:

      "I wish I had seen Marr die."

      "But why, Julian? Why this extraordinary interest in a man you knew so slightly and for so short a time?"

      "It's because I can't get it out of my head that he had something to do with our sittings, more than we know."

      "Impossible."

      "I am almost certain the doctor thought so. I must tell him about Marr's death. Valentine, let us drive to Harley Street now."

      Valentine did not reply at once, and Julian said:

      "I will tell the cabman."

      "Very well."

      Julian gave the order.

      "I wonder if he will be in," Julian said presently. "What is the time?"

      He took out his watch and held it up sideways until the light of a gas-lamp flashed on it for a moment.

      "Just eleven. So late? I am surprised."

      "We were a good while at the 'European.'"

      "Longer than I thought. Probably the doctor will have come in, even if he has been out dining. Ah, here we are!"

      The cab drew up. Julian got out and rang the bell in the rain.

      "Is Doctor Levillier at home?"

      "No, sir. He is out dining. But I expect him every moment. Will you come in and wait?" said the man-servant, who knew Julian well.

      "Thanks; I think I will. I rather want to see him. I will just ask Mr.

       Cresswell. He's with me to-night."

      Julian returned to the cab, in which Valentine was sitting.

      "The doctor will probably be home in a few minutes. Let us go in and wait for him."

      "Yes, you go in."

      "But surely—"

      "No, Julian," Valentine said, and suddenly there came into his voice a weariness, "I am rather tired to-night. I think I'll go home to bed."

      "Oh," Julian said. He was obviously disappointed. He hesitated.

      "Shall I come too, old chap? You're sure—you're certain that you are not feeling ill after last night?"

      He leant with his foot on the step of the cab to look at Valentine more closely.

      "No; I am all right. Only tired and sleepy, Julian. Well, will you come or stay?"

      "I think I will stay. I want badly to have a talk with the doctor."

      "All right. Good-night."

      "Good-night!"

      Valentine called his address to the cabman, and the man whipped up his horse. Just as the cab was turning round Valentine leaned out over the wooden door and cried to Julian, who was just going into the house:

      "Give СКАЧАТЬ