LITMIR.BIZ

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his head held low; and his eyes were fixed on mine with a look of rage. Suddenly he jerked up his tail, and when a lion does this he charges. I got a quick sight of his chest and fired. He reared up on his hind legs, roaring loudly and clawing at the air, fell back dead. One lioness remained, and through the smoke I saw her spring to her feet and rush towards me. Escape was impossible, for behind me were high boulders that I could not climb. She came on with hoarse, coughing grunts, and with desperate courage I fired my remaining barrel. I missed her clean. I took one step backwards in the hope of getting a cartridge into my rifle, and fell, scarcely two lengths in front of the furious beast. She missed me. I owed my safety to that fall. And then suddenly I found that she had collapsed. I had hit her after all. My bullet went clean through her heart, but the spring had carried her forwards. When I scrambled to my feet I found that she was dying. I walked back to my camp and ate a capital breakfast.”

      Oliver Haddo’s story was received with astonished silence. No one could assert that it was untrue, but he told it with a grandiloquence that carried no ​conviction. Arthur would have wagered a considerable sum that there was no word of truth in it. He had never met a person of this kind before, and could not understand what pleasure there might be in the elaborate invention of improbable adventures.

      “You are evidently very brave,” he said.

      “To follow a wounded lion into thick cover is probably the most dangerous proceeding in the world,” said Haddo calmly. “It calls for the utmost coolness and for iron nerve.”

      The answer had an odd effect on Arthur. He gave Haddo a rapid glance, and was seized suddenly with uncontrollable laughter. He leaned back in his chair and roared. His hilarity affected the others, and they broke into peal upon peal of laughter. Oliver watched them gravely. He seemed neither disconcerted nor surprised. When Arthur recovered himself, he found Haddo’s singular eyes fixed on him.

      “Your laughter reminds me of the crackling of thorns under a pot,” he said.

      Haddo looked round at the others. Though his gaze preserved its fixity, his lips broke into a queer, sardonic smile.

      “It must be plain even to the feeblest intelligence that a man can only command the elementary spirits if he is without fear. A capricious mind can never rule the sylphs, nor a fickle disposition the undines.”

      Arthur stared at him with amazement. He did not know what on earth the man was talking about. Haddo paid no heed.

      “But if the adept is active, pliant, and strong, ​the whole world will be at his command. He will pass through the storm and no rain shall fall upon his head. The wind will not displace a single fold of his garment. He will go through fire and not be burned.”

      Dr. Porhoët ventured upon an explanation of these cryptic utterances.

      “These ladies are unacquainted with the mysterious beings of whom you speak, cher ami. They should know that during the Middle Ages imagination peopled the four elements with intelligences, normally unseen, some of which were friendly to man and others hostile. They were thought to be powerful and conscious of their power, though at the same time they were profoundly aware that they possessed no soul. Their life depended upon the continuance of some natural object, and hence for them there could be no immortality. They must return eventually to the abyss of unending night, and the darkness of death afflicted them always. But it was thought that in the same manner as man by his union with God had won a spark of divinity, so might the sylphs, gnomes, undines, and salamanders, by an alliance with man partake of his immortality. And many of their women, whose beauty was more than human, gained a human soul by loving one of the race of men. But the reverse occurred also, and often a love-sick youth lost his immortality because he left the haunts of his kind to dwell with the fair, soulless denizens of the running streams or of the forest airs.”

      “I didn’t know that you spoke figuratively,” said Arthur to Oliver Haddo.

      ​The other shrugged his shoulders.

      “What else is the world than a figure? Life itself is but a symbol. You must be a wise man if you can tell us what is reality.”

      “When you begin to talk of magic and mysticism I confess that I am out of my depth.”

      “Yet magic is no more than the art of employing consciously invisible means to produce visible effects. Will, love, and imagination are magic powers that everyone possesses; and whoever knows how to develop them to their fullest extent is a magician. Magic has but one dogma, namely, that the seen is the measure of the unseen.”

      “Will you tell us what the powers are that the adept possesses?”

      “They are enumerated in a Hebrew manuscript of the sixteenth century, which is in my possession. The privileges of him who holds in his right hand the Keys of Solomon and in his left the Branch of the Blossoming Almond, are twenty-one. He beholds God face to face without dying, and converses intimately with the Seven Genii who command the celestial army. He is superior to every affliction and to every fear. He reigns with all heaven and is served by all hell. He holds the secret of the resurrection of the dead, and the key of immortality.”

      “If you possess even these you have evidently the most varied attainments,” said Arthur ironically.

      “Everyone can make game of the unknown,” retorted Haddo, with a shrug of his massive shoulders.

      Arthur did not answer. He looked at Haddo ​curiously. He asked himself whether he believed seriously these preposterous things, or whether he was amusing himself in an elephantine way at their expense. His manner was earnest, but there was an odd expression about the mouth, a hard twinkle of the eyes, which seemed to belie it. Susie was vastly entertained. It diverted her enormously to hear occult matters discussed with apparent gravity in this prosaic tavern. Dr. Porhoët broke the silence.

      “Arago, after whom has been named a neighbouring boulevard, declared that doubt was a proof of modesty, which has rarely interfered with the progress of science. But one cannot say the same of incredulity, and he that uses the word impossible outside of pure mathematics is lacking in prudence. It should be remembered that Lactantius proclaimed belief in the existence of antipodes inane, and Saint Augustine of Hippo added that in any case there could be no question of inhabited lands.”

      “That sounds as if you were not quite sceptical, dear doctor,” said Miss Boyd.

      “In my youth I believed nothing, for science had taught me to distrust even the evidence of my five senses,” he replied, with a shrug of the shoulders. “But I have seen many things in the East which are inexplicable by the known processes of science. Mr. Haddo has given you one definition of magic, and I will give you another. It may be described merely as the intelligent utilisation of forces which are unknown, contemned, or misunderstood of the vulgar. The young man who settles in the East sneers at the ideas of magic which surround him, ​but I know not what there is in the atmosphere that saps his unbelief. When he has sojourned for some years among Orientals, he comes insensibly to share the opinion of many sensible men that perhaps there is something in it after all.”

      Arthur Burdon made a gesture of impatience.

      “I cannot imagine that however much I lived in Eastern countries, I could believe anything that had the whole weight of science against it. If there were a word of truth in anything Haddo says, we should be unable to form any reasonable theory of the universe.”

      “For a scientific man you argue with singular fatuity,” said Haddo icily, and his manner had an offensiveness which was intensely irritating. “You should be aware that science, dealing only with the general, leaves out of consideration the individual cases that contradict the enormous majority. Occasionally the heart is on the right side of the body, but you would not on that account ever put your stethoscope in any other than the usual spot. It is possible that under certain conditions the law of gravity does not apply, yet you will conduct your life under the conviction that it does so invariably. Now, there are some of us who choose to deal only with these exceptions to the common run. The dull man who plays at Monte Carlo puts his money on the colours, and generally black or red turns

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