down at her quickly； and then said reassuringly： 〃Do you know one
is； by actual statistics； safer in an English railway carriage than
when walking the crowded streets of London？ I am daily subjecting
myself to laboratory dangers which； I believe； are graver than any
I am likely to meet between here and Bombay； or； for that matter；
even at Bombay in the presence of our recent acquaintance Ragobah。〃
〃I deeply appreciate；〃 she replied； 〃the generous sacrifice you
would make in my interests … hut Bombay is such a long way … and 〃
〃If suspicion directed me to the North Pole；〃 he interrupted； 〃I
should start with equal alacrity；〃 and he held out his hand to her
to bid her farewell。 She took it in a way that bespoke a world of
gratitude； if nothing more。 He retained the small hand； while he
said： 〃Have you forgotten； my friend； your promise to your father？
Do you not see in what terrible relations it may place you？ How
important； then； that no effort should be spared to prevent you
from becoming indebted to one unmanly enough to take advantage of
your position。 I shall use every means within my power to myself
discover your father's murderer； and you may comfort yourself with
the assurance that； if successful； I shall make no demand of any
kind whatsoever upon your gratitude。 I think you understand me。〃
As he said this Gwen looked him full in the face。 A little nervous
tremor seized the corners of her mouth； and the tears sprang to her
eyes。 〃Good…bye〃 was all she could say before she was compelled
to turn aside to conceal her emotion。
Maitland； observing her agitation； said to her tenderly： 〃Your
gratitude for the little that I have already done is reward； more
than ample； for all I shall ever be able to do。 Good…bye；〃 and he
left the room。
Oh； man with your microscope！ How is it that you find the smallest
speck of dust； yet miss the mountain？ Does the time seem too short？
It would not if you realised that events； not clocks； were the real
measure thereof。
THE EPISODE OF RAMA RAGOBAH
CHAPTER I
Life is but a poor accountant when it leaves the Future to
balance its entries long years after the parties to the
transactions are but a handful of insolvent dust。 When； in such
wise； the chiefest item of one side of the sheet fails to explain
itself to the other； the tragic is attained。
On the day following Maitland's departure On for New York； Mr。 Darrow
was buried。 The Osborne theory seemed to be universally accepted；
and many women who had never seen Mr。 Darrow during his life attended
his funeral； curious to see what sort of a person this suicide might
be。 Gwen bore the ordeal with a fortitude which spoke volumes for
her strength of character； and I took good care； when it was all
over； that she should not be left alone。 In compliance with
Maitland's request； whose will； since her promise to him； was law to
her； she prepared to close the house and take up her abode with us。
It was on the night of the funeral； just after the lamps were
lighted； that an event occurred which made a deep impression upon
Gwen； though neither she nor I fully appreciated its significance
till weeks afterward。
Gwen； who was to close the house on the morrow； was going from room
to room collecting such little things as she wished to take with her。
The servants had been dismissed and she was entirely alone in the
house。 She had gathered the things she had collected in a little
heap upon the sitting…room table； preparatory to doing them up。 She
could think of but one thing more which she must take … a cabinet
photograph of her father。 This was upon the top of the piano in the
room where he had met his death。 She knew its exact location and
could have put her hand right upon it had it been perfectly dark；
which it was not。 She arose； therefore； and； without taking a
light with her； went into the parlour。 A faint afterglow illumined
the windows and suffused the room with an uncertain； dim； ghostly
light which lent to all its objects that vague flatness from which
the imagination carves what shapes。 it lists。 As Gwen reached for
the picture； a sudden conviction possessed her that her father
stood just behind her in the exact spot where he had met his death；
… that if she turned she would see him again with his hand clutching
his throat and his eyes starting from their sockets with that
never…to…be…forgotten look of frenzied helplessness。
It would be difficult to find a woman upon whom superstition has so
slight a hold as it has upon Gwen Darrow； yet； for all that； it
required an effort for her to turn and gaze toward the centre of
the room。 A dim； ill…defined stain of light fell momentarily upon
the chair in which the dead man had sat； and then flickered
unsteadily across the room and； as it seemed to her； out through
its western side； the while a faint； rustling sound caught her ear。
She was plainly conscious； too； of a something swishing by her； as
if a strong draught had just fallen upon her。 She was not naturally
superstitious； as I have said before； yet there was something in the
gloom； the deserted house； and this fatal room with its untold story
of death which； added to her weird perceptions and that indescribable
conviction of an unseen presence； caused even Gwen to press her hand
convulsively upon her throbbing heart。 For the first time in her
life the awful possibilities of darkness were fully borne in upon
her and she knew just how her father had felt。
In a moment； however； she had recovered from her first shock and had
begun to reason。 Might not the sound she had heard； and the movement
she had felt； both be explained by an open window？ She knew she had
closed and locked all the windows of the room when she had finished
airing it after the funeral； and she was not aware that anyone had
been there since； yet she said to herself that perhaps one of the
servants had come in and opened a window without her knowledge。 She
turned and looked。 The lower sash of the eastern window … the one
through which she felt sure death had approached her father … was
raised to its utmost。
〃How=20fortunate；〃 she murmured； 〃that I discovered this before
leaving。〃
She was all but fully reassured now； as she stepped to the window
to close it。 Remembering how the sash stuck in the casing she
raised both hands to forcibly lower it。 As she did so a strong
arm caught the sash from the outer side； and a stalwart masculine
form arose directly in front of her。 His great height brought his
head almost to a level with her own； despite the fact that he was
standing upon the ground outside。 He was so near that she could
feel his breath upon her face。 His eyes； like two great coals of
fire； blazed into hers with a sinister and threatening light。 His
countenance seemed to utterly surpass any personal malignancy and
to exhibit itself as a type of all the hatreds that ever poisoned
human hearts。
Only a moment before Gwen had felt a creepy； sickening sensation
stealing over her as the result of an ill…defined and apparently
causeless dread。 Now an actual； imminent； and fearful peril
confronted her。 Under such circumstances most women would have
fainted； and； indeed； if Gwen had herself been asked how she would
have acted under such a supreme test； she would have prophesied the
same maidenly course as her own； yet； in the real exigency … how
little do we know of ourselves； save what actual experience has
taught us！ … this is precisely what she did not do。 When the
horrible apparition first rose in her very face； as it were； a
momentary weakness caught her and she clung to the sash for support。
Then the wonderful fire of the malignant eyes； green； serpentine；
opalescent； with the wave…like flux of a glowworm's light seen
under a glass； riveted her attention。 She had ceased to tremble。
Our fear of death varies with our desire for life。 Dulled by a
great grief； she did not so very much care what became of her。 The
future's burden was heavy； and if it were necessary she now put it
down； there would still be a sense of relief。 As this thought
passed like a shadow over her consciousness she felt herself
irresistibly attracted to the awful face before her。 Her assailant's
gaze seemed to have wound itself about her own till she could not
disentangle it。 She was dimly conscious that she was falling under
a spell and summoned all her remaining strength to break it。 Quick
as the uncoiling of a released spring； and without the slightest
movement of warning； she threw her entire weight upon the sash in
a last endeavour to close the window； but the man's upraised arm
held both her weight and it； as if its muscles had been rods of
steel。 Gwen saw a long knife in his free hand； … saw the light
shimmer along its blade； saw him raise it aloft to plunge it into
her bosom； yet made no movement to withdraw beyond his reach and
uttered no cry for help。 It seemed to her that all this was
happening to another and that she herself was only a fascinated
spectator。 She was wondering whether or not the victim would try
to defend herself when the knife began its descent。 It seemed
ages in its downward passage； … so long； indeed； that it gave her
time to think of most of the main experiences of her life。 At last
it paused irresolutely within an inch of her bosom。 She wondered
that the victim made no attempt to escape； uttered no cry for help。
Suddenly she felt something whirling and buzzing in her brain； while
a wild fluttering filled both her ears； then the swirling； fluttering
torment rose in a swift and awful crescendo which seemed to involve
all creation in its vortex； then a pang like a lightning…thrust and
a crash like the thunder that goes with it； and she saw a tall man
striding rapidly from the window。 She was still sure it was no
personal concern of hers； yet an idle curiosity noted his great
height； his dark； mulatto…like skin； and a slight halt in his walk
as he passed through a narrow beam of light and off into the
engulfing darkness。
It was many minutes before Gwen regained any considerable command
of her faculties； and