The Beetle Part 4

Raising himself to a sitting posture, he threw his arms above his head, and shrieked with a demoniac fury. Presently he became a trifle calmer. Reverting to his rec.u.mbent position, resting his head upon his hand, he eyed me steadily; then asked me a question which struck me as being, under the circ.u.mstances, more than a little singular.

'You know his house,-the house of the great Paul Lessingham,-the politician,-the statesman?'

'I do not.'

'You lie!-you do!'

The words came from him with a sort of snarl,-as if he would have lashed me across the face with them.

'I do not. Men in my position are not acquainted with the residences of men in his. I may, at some time, have seen his address in print; but, if so, I have forgotten it.'

He looked at me intently, for some moments, as if to learn if I spoke the truth; and apparently, at last, was satisfied that I did.

'You do not know it?-Well!-I will show it you,-I will show the house of the great Paul Lessingham.'

What he meant I did not know; but I was soon to learn,-an astounding revelation it proved to be. There was about his manner something hardly human; something which, for want of a better phrase, I would call vulpine. In his tone there was a mixture of mockery and bitterness, as if he wished his words to have the effect of corrosive sublimate, and to sear me as he uttered them.

'Listen with all your ears. Give me your whole attention. Hearken to my bidding, so that you may do as I bid you. Not that I fear your obedience,-oh no!'

He paused,-as if to enable me to fully realise the picture of my helplessness conjured up by his jibes.

'You came through my window, like a thief. You will go through my window, like a fool. You will go to the house of the great Paul Lessingham. You say you do not know it? Well, I will show it you. I will be your guide. Unseen, in the darkness and the night, I will stalk beside you, and will lead you to where I would have you go.-You will go just as you are, with bare feet, and head uncovered, and with but a single garment to hide your nakedness. You will be cold, your feet will be cut and bleeding,-but what better does a thief deserve? If any see you, at the least they will take you for a madman; there will be trouble. But have no fear; bear a bold heart. None shall see you while I stalk at your side. I will cover you with the cloak of invisibility,-so that you may come in safety to the house of the great Paul Lessingham.'

He paused again. What he said, wild and wanton though it was, was beginning to fill me with a sense of the most extreme discomfort. His sentences, in some strange, indescribable way, seemed, as they came from his lips, to warp my limbs; to enwrap themselves about me; to confine me, tighter and tighter, within, as it were, swaddling clothes; to make me more and more helpless. I was already conscious that whatever mad freak he chose to set me on, I should have no option but to carry it through.

'When you come to the house, you will stand, and look, and seek for a window convenient for entry. It may be that you will find one open, as you did mine; if not, you will open one. How,-that is your affair, not mine. You will practise the arts of a thief to steal into his house.'

The monstrosity of his suggestion fought against the spell which he again was casting upon me, and forced me into speech,-endowed me with the power to show that there still was in me something of a man; though every second the strands of my manhood, as it seemed, were slipping faster through the fingers which were strained to clutch them.

'I will not.'

He was silent. He looked at me. The pupils of his eyes dilated,- until they seemed all pupil.

'You will.-Do you hear?-I say you will.'

'I am not a thief, I am an honest man,-why should I do this thing?'

'Because I bid you.'

'Have mercy!'

'On whom-on you, or on Paul Lessingham?-Who, at any time, has shown mercy unto me, that I should show mercy unto any?'

He stopped, and then again went on,-reiterating his former incredible suggestion with an emphasis which seemed to eat its way into my brain.

'You will practise the arts of a thief to steal into his house; and, being in, will listen. If all be still, you will make your way to the room he calls his study.'

'How shall I find it? I know nothing of his house.'

The question was wrung from me; I felt that the sweat was standing in great drops upon my brow.

'I will show it you.'

'Shall you go with me?'

'Ay,-I shall go with you. All the time I shall be with you. You will not see me, but I shall be there. Be not afraid.'

His claim to supernatural powers, for what he said amounted to nothing less, was, on the face of it, preposterous, but, then, I was in no condition to even hint at its absurdity. He continued.

'When you have gained the study, you will go to a certain drawer, which is in a certain bureau, in a corner of the room-I see it now; when you are there you shall see it too-and you will open it.'

'Should it be locked?'

'You still will open it.'

'But how shall I open it if it is locked?'

'By those arts in which a thief is skilled. I say to you again that that is your affair, not mine.'

I made no attempt to answer him. Even supposing that he forced me, by the wicked, and unconscionable exercise of what, I presumed, were the hypnotic powers with which nature had to such a dangerous degree endowed him, to carry the adventure to a certain stage, since he could hardly, at an instant's notice, endow me with the knack of picking locks, should the drawer he alluded to be locked -which might Providence permit!-nothing serious might issue from it after all. He read my thoughts.

'You will open it,-though it be doubly and trebly locked, I say that you will open it.-In it you will find-' he hesitated, as if to reflect-'some letters; it may be two or three,-I know not just how many,-they are bound about by a silken ribbon. You will take them out of the drawer, and, having taken them, you will make the best of your way out of the house, and bear them back to me.'

'And should anyone come upon me while engaged in these nefarious proceedings,-for instance, should I encounter Mr Lessingham himself, what then?'

'Paul Lessingham?-You need have no fear if you encounter him.'

'I need have no fear!-If he finds me, in his own house, at dead of night, committing burglary!'

'You need have no fear of him.'

'On your account, or on my own?-At least he will have me haled to gaol.'

'I say you need have no fear of him. I say what I mean.'

'How, then, shall I escape his righteous vengeance? He is not the man to suffer a midnight robber to escape him scatheless,-shall I have to kill him?'

'You will not touch him with a finger,-nor will he touch you.'

'By what spell shall I prevent him?'

'By the spell of two words.'

'What words are they?'

'Should Paul Lessingham chance to come upon you, and find you in his house, a thief, and should seek to stay you from whatever it is you may be at, you will not flinch nor flee from him, but you will stand still, and you will say-'

Something in the crescendo accents of his voice, something weird and ominous, caused my heart to press against my ribs, so that when he stopped, in my eagerness I cried out,