The Dweller on the Threshold. Robert Hichens

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СКАЧАТЬ I have tried to impress that upon our friend Chichester."

      "Doesn't he agree with you?"

      "Well—it's difficult to say, difficult to say. Shall we go by Wilton

       Place, or—?"

      "Certainly."

      "Professor Stepton has talked to me about you from time to time, Mr.

       Malling."

      "He's a remarkable man," said Malling almost with enthusiasm.

      "Yes. He's finding his way to the truth rather by the pathway of science than by the pathway of faith. But he's a man I respect. And I believe he'll get out into the light. You've done a great deal of work for him, I understand, in—in occult directions."

      "I have made a good many careful investigations at his suggestion."

      "Exactly. Now"—Mr. Harding paused, seemed to make an effort, and continued—"we know very little even now, with all that has been done, as to—to the possibilities—I scarcely know how to put it—the possibilities of the soul."

      "Very little indeed," rejoined Malling.

      He was considerably surprised by his companion's manner, but was quite resolved not to help him out.

      "The possibilities of one soul, let us say, in connection with another," continued the rector, almost in a faltering voice. "I often feel as if the soul were a sort of mysterious fluid, and that when we what is called influence another person, we, as it were, submerge his soul fluid in our own, as a drop of water might be submerged in an ocean."

      "Ah!" said Malling, laconically.

      Mr. Harding shot a rather sharp glance at him.

      "You don't object to my getting on this subject, I hope?" he observed.

      "Certainly not."

      "Perhaps you think it rather a strange one for a clergyman to select?"

      "Oh, no. I have known many clergymen deeply interested in Stepton's investigations."

      Mr. Harding's face, which had been cloudy, cleared.

      "It seems to me," he said, "that we clergymen have a special reason for desiring Stepton, and all Stepton's assistants, to make progress. It is true, of course, that we live by faith. And nothing can be more beautiful than a childlike faith in the Great Being who is above all worlds, in the anima mundi. But it would be unnatural in us if we did not earnestly desire that our faith be proved, scientifically proved, to be well-founded. I speak now of the faith we Christians hold in a life beyond the grave. I know many people who think it very wrong in a clergyman to mix himself up in any occult experiments. But I don't agree with them."

      It was now Malling's turn to look sharply at his companion.

      "Have you made many experiments yourself, may I ask?" he said very bluntly.

      The clergyman started, and was obviously embarrassed by the question.

      "I! Oh, I was speaking generally. I am a very busy man, you see. What with my church and my parish, and one thing and another, I get very little time for outside things. Still I am greatly interested, I confess, in all that Stepton is doing."

      "Does Mr. Chichester share your interest?" said Malling.

      "In a minor degree, in a minor degree," answered the rector, rather evasively.

      They were now in Sloane Street and Malling said:

      "I must turn off here."

      "I'll go with you as far as your door if you've no objection," said the rector, who seemed very loath to leave his companion. "It's odd how men change, isn't it?"

      "As they grow older? But surely development is natural and to be expected?"

      "Certainly. But when a man changes drastically, sheds his character and takes on another?"

      "You are talking perhaps of what is called conversion?"

      "Well, that would be an instance of what I mean, no doubt. But there are changes of another type. We clergymen, you know, mix intimately with so many men that we are almost bound to become psychologists if we are to do any good. It becomes a habit with many of us to study closely our fellow-men. Now I, for instance; I cannot live at close quarters with a man without, almost unconsciously, subjecting him to a minute scrutiny, and striving to sum him up. My curates, for example—"

      "Yes?" said Malling.

      "There are four of them, our friend Chichester being the senior one."

      "And you have 'placed' them all?"

      "I thought I had, I thought so—but—"

      Mr. Harding was silent. Then, with a strange abruptness, and the air of a man forced into an action against which something within him protested, he said:

      "Mr. Malling, you are the only person I know who, having been acquainted with Henry Chichester, has at last met him again after a prolonged interval of separation. Two years, you said. People who see a man from day to day observe very little or nothing. Changes occur and are not noticed by them. A man and his wife live together and grow old. But does either ever notice when the face of the other begins first to lose its bloom, to take on that peculiar, unmistakable stamp that the passage of the years sets on us all? Few of us really see what is always before us. But the man who comes back—he sees. Tell me the honest truth, I beg of you. Do you or do you not, see a great change in Henry Chichester?"

      The rector's voice had risen while he spoke, till it almost clamored for reply. His eyes were more clamorous still, insistent in their demand upon Malling. Nevertheless voice and eyes pushed Malling toward caution. Something within him said, "Be careful what you do!" and, acting surprise, he answered:

      "Chichester changed! In what way?"

      The rector's countenance fell.

      "You haven't observed it?"

      "Remember I've only seen him to-day and walking in the midst of crowds."

      "Quite true! Quite true!"

      Mr. Harding meditated for a minute, and then said:

      "Mr. Malling, I daresay my conduct to-day may surprise you. You may think it odd of me to be so frank, seeing that you and I have not met before. But Stepton has told me so much about you that I cannot feel we are quite strangers. I should like you to have an opportunity of observing Henry Chichester without prejudice. I will say nothing more. But if I invite you to meet him, in my house or elsewhere, will you promise me to come?"

      "Certainly, if I possibly can."

      "And your address?"

      Malling stopped and, smiling, pointed to the number outside a house.

      "You live here?"

      Mr. Harding took a small book СКАЧАТЬ