The Land Of Mist - Doyle Arthur Conan (прочитать книгу TXT) 📗
The medium was in the corner of a comfortable sofa, and had fallen at once into a doze. Both Mailey and Malone at with notebooks upon their knees awaiting developments.
They were not long in coming. Terbane suddenly sat up, his dreamy self transformed into a very alert and masterful individuality. A subtle change had passed over his ace. An ambiguous smile fluttered upon his lips, his eye seemed more oblique and less open, his face projected. The two hands were thrust into the sleeves of his blue lounge jacket.
«Good evening,» said he, speaking crisply and in short staccato sentences. «New faces! Who these?»
«Good evening, Chang,» said the master of the house.
«You know Mr. Mason. This is Mr. Malone who studies our subject. This is Lord Roxton who has helped me to-day.»
As each name was mentioned, Terbane made a sweeping Oriental gesture of greeting, bringing his hand down from his forehead. His whole bearing was superbly dignified and very different from the humble little man who had sat down a few minutes before.
«Lord Roxton!» he repeated. «An English milord! I knew Lord – Lord Macart No – I – I cannot say it. Alas I I called him 'foreign devil' then. Chang, too, had much to learn.»
«He is speaking of Lord Macartney. That would be over a hundred years ago. Chang was a great living philosopher then,» Mailey explained.
«Not lose time!» cried the control. «Much to do to-day. Crowd waiting. Some new, some old. I gather strange folk in my net. Now I go.» He sank back among the cushions. A minute elapsed, then he suddenly sat up.
«I want to thank you,» he said, speaking perfect English. «I came two weeks ago. I have thought over all you said. The path is lighter.»
«Were you the spirit who did not believe in God?»
«Yes, yes! I said so in my anger. I was so weary – so weary. Oh, the time, the endless time, the grey mist, the heavy weight of remorse! Hopeless! Hopeless! And you brought me comfort, you and this great Chinese spirit. You gave me the first kind words I have had since I died.»
«When was it that you died?»
«Oh! It seems an eternity. We do not measure as you do. It is a long, horrible dream without change or break.»
«Who was king in England?»
«Victoria was queen. I had attuned my mind to matter and so it clung to matter. I did not believe in a future life. Now I know that I was all wrong, but I could not adapt my mind to new conditions.»
«Is it bad where you are?»
«It is all – all grey. That is the awful part of it. One's surroundings are so horrible.»
«But there are many more. You are not alone.»
«No, but they know no more than I. They, too, scoff and doubt and are miserable.»
«You will soon get out.»
«For God's sake, help me to do so!»
«Poor soul!» said Mrs. Mailey in her sweet, caressing voice, a voice which could bring every animal to her side. «You have suffered much. But do not think of yourself. Think of these others. Try to bring one of them up and so you will best kelp yourself.»
«Thank you, lady, I will. There is one here whom I brought. He has heard you. We will go on together. Perhaps some day we may find the light.»
«Do you like to be prayed for?»
«Yes, yes, indeed I do!»
«I will pray for you,» said Mason. «Could you say the 'Our Father' now?» He uttered the old universal prayer, but before he had finished Terbane had collapsed again among the cushions. He sat up again as Chang.
«He come on well,» said the control. «He give up time for others who wait. That is good. Now I have hard case. Ow!»
He gave a comical cry of disapprobation and sank back. Next moment he was up, his face long and solemn, his hands palm to palm.
«What is this?» he asked in a precise and affected voice. «I am at a loss to know what right this Chinese person has to summon me here. Perhaps you can enlighten me.»
«It is that we may perhaps help you.»
«When I desire help, sir, I ask for it. At present I do not desire it. The whole proceeding seems to me to be a very great liberty. So far as this Chinaman can explain it, I gather that I am the involuntary spectator of some sort of religious service.»
«We are a spiritualistic circle.»
«A most pernicious sect. A most blasphemous proceeding. As a humble parish priest I protest against such desecrations.»
«You are held back, friend, by those narrow views. It is you who suffer. We want to relieve you.»
«Suffer? What do you mean, sir?»
«You realize that you have passed over?»
«You are talking nonsense!»
«Do you realize that you are dead?»
«How can I be dead when I am talking to you?»
«Because you are using this man's body.»
«I have certainly wandered into an asylum.»
«Yes, an asylum for bad cases. I fear you are one of them. Are you happy where you are?»
«Happy? No, sir. My present surroundings are perfectly inexplicable to me.»
«Have you any recollection of being ill?»
«I was very ill indeed.»
«So ill that you died.»
«You are certainly out of your senses.»
«How do you know you are not dead?»
«Sir, I must give you some religious instruction. When one dies and has led an honourable life, one assumes a glorified body and one associates with the angels. I am now in exactly the same body as in life, and I am in a very dull, drab place. Such companions as I have are not such as I have been accustomed to associate with in life, and certainly no one could describe them as angels. Therefore your absurd conjecture may be dismissed.»
«Do not continue to deceive yourself. We wish to help you. You can never progress until you realize your position.»
«Really, you try my patience too far. Have I not said –?»
The medium fell back among the cushions. An instant later the Chinese control, with his whimsical smile and his hands tucked away in his sleeves, was talking to the circle.
«He good man – fool man – learn sense soon. Bring him again. Not waste more time. Oh, my God! My God! Help! Mercy! Help!»
He had fallen full length upon the sofa, face upwards, and his cries were so terrible that the little audience all sprang to their feet. «A saw! A saw! Fetch a saw!» yelled the medium. His voice sank into a moan.
Even Mailey was agitated. The rest were horrified.
«Someone has obsessed him. I can't understand it. It may be some strong evil entity.»
«Shall I speak to him?» asked Mason.
«Wait a moment! Let it develop. We shall soon see.»
The medium writhed in agony. «Oh, my God! Why don't you fetch a saw!» he cried. «It's here across my breast-bone. It is cracking! I feel it! Hawkin! Hawkin! Pull me from under! Hawkin! Push up the beam! No, no, that's worse! And it's on fire! Oh, horrible! Horrible!»
His cries were blood-curdling. They were all chilled with horror. Then in an instant the Chinaman was blinking at them with his slanting eyes.
«What you think of that, Mister Mailey?»
«It was terrible, Chang. What was it?»
«It was for him,» nodding towards Malone. «He want newspaper story, I give him newspaper story. He will understand. No time 'splain now. Too many waiting. Sailor man come next. Here he come!»
The Chinaman was gone, and a jovial, puzzled grin passed over the face of the medium. He scratched his head.
«Well, damn me,» said he. «I never thought I would take orders from a Chink, but he says 'hist!' and by crums you've got to hist and no back talk either. Well, here I am. What did you want?»
«We wanted nothing.»
«Well, the Chink seemed to think you did, for he slung me in here.»
«It was you that wanted something. You wanted knowledge.»
«Well, I've lost my bearings, that's true. I know I am dead 'cause I've seen the gunnery lootenant, and he was blown to bits before my eyes. If he's dead I'm dead and all the rest of us, for we are over to the last man. But we've got the laugh on our sky-pilot, for he's as puzzled as the rest of us. Damned poor pilot, I call him. We're all taking our own soundings now.»
