Copyright. The Daedal Woman.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLV, Issue 23, 7 December 1910, Page 55

Copyright. The Daedal Woman.

By

CHARLES HENRY.

Author of “Lazar Stairs,

” "Bob’s Apology,” etc.

/~¥A Y hand shakes anew as I take V I B n P my pen to give account of , j I f the violent ending of my life’s / one passion and of the violent revelation of the superhuman powers of a being apparently of like flesh and blood to myself. I feel again the double shock ami I who before the events I set down here would have boasted that nothing on earth or below it could have twitched my nerves, tremble in every limb. In my fifteenth year, having killed my father's favourite mastiff and out dared his anger I set off whistling and penniless to explore the wide world. Since that day my life has been often held at a farthing’s ransom: I have known all the extremes of fortune and have been untroubled. Now. these lingers that should hold the pen, slip and jerk like a plucked spider's leg. Aly will that was iron is powder like shattered glass. My eyes see one vision only, a woman’s face of peerless beauty through which as through a semi-transparent mask loom the smooth features of a Chinaman, a magician learned in the craft of demons; and at sight of the woman’s face my blood is fire and at sight of the man’s, ice. I came posthaste to London from Borneo. A white spot of leprosy on my right breast goaded me to impatience. I ascribed it to living for six months in the reeking forests' - of that Gehenna on a staple diet of putrid fish. It was my desire to consult a Chinese doctor, one Tien-Ming, who practised in London and whose fame had reached my ears m his own country. I found him in Harley Street housed among his professional brethren in style like their own. 1 despatched an urgent summons by the English maid who admitted me into an ordinary consulting room, but I was kept waiting an hour. By the time a tall, stunt man in immaculate frock coat appeared I was ready to damn him to his fat. yellow face for his tardiness. He bowed with a bland smile and suave greeting. Without returning the courtesy I tore open my vest and asked curtly.

“What do you make of this?” He touched the spot with a fat eold finger and said quietly, "Leprosy.” “No doubt of it. Can you do anything?” The dull light of the November afternoon was rapidly fading. Going to a window he drew down a blind. He switched on a mellowed electric light. I stood motionless, my hands holding my clothes apart. He put on thick round glasses that made his little slanting eyes swell and glow and looked me in the faee. “You are a strong man.” •’Yes,” I said sharply, "make your proposal .” "Well,” he said, “you are versed in Eastern crafts. Will you yield yourself to me ?’-’ "I want to get rid of this and do not fear any man or thing.” He smiled and bowed again. “Look into my eyes.” I had not long to look into those big. luI had not. long to look into those big, luminous globes, as they seemed, before I was completely hypnotised. He was tapping my chest. My senses became clear and I looked down. The spot had disappeared. I was just a. little startled and felt a second's awe of the ’smirking yellow man before me. “Y’ou Yorkshiremen are good subjects,” he began in congratulation. I cut him short. “What do I owe you?” “One hundred guineas.” I paid him. As he took the notes he looked me over meditatively, he had an air of weighing me up that irritated me. In our short conversation he had showed an acquaintance with my life and person that taught me he possessed those subtle gifts of divination one meets in the mysterious East. "Pardon me,” he said courteously, “but you are tired with your journey and have not engaged rooms yet. Will you do me the honour to dine with me and maybe tell me how- you found a.ffairs in my native land?”

. I had half a mind to refuse but any promise of unusual experiences attracted me. This man amazingly endowed, had some use for me 1 gauged, and 1 hard half a mind to see what it was. "I am obliged to you,” I said more politely. “I shall be glad but—” “That is well,” he interrupted reading my thoughts plainly, "I can lend yon Chinese dress—to whieh you are accustomed —then you will be at home with my daughter and myself.” As an old thin, wrinkled servitor hobbled silently in his felt slippers before me, brought me to an apartment and assisted me to attire myself in Chinese garb I could not refrain from speculating as to my host's daughter. Probably, 1 reflected, she was a mass of fat, smallfooted, sad and still, her eyes mere slits in an expanse of yellow flesh. I was soon led to a gorgeous saloon where my host sat alone waiting me. We talked awhile, plunging into the depths of Chinese philosophy. Suddenly he turned to the table and said, “My daughter is ready.” I turned in some sulrpri.se, having neither heard nor seen anyone enter. When I saw the lady seated at the table I confess I lost my self-command for a moment. "Your daughter, good Lord, sir,” 1 ejaculated half-aloud. "My very own.” ho answered, having caught my words. “Let me introduce you.” Ho caressed her polished arm with his flabby hands as ho led her forward. A vision of beauty and pride swept towards me, and her fingers, eold and white, touched mine as snowflakes. How to depict her as I saw her, gleaming, splendid, triumphant, bathed in the rich, subdued lights of the room I do not know. But imagine, if your powers be equal to the task, a tall, stately woman clad in what seemed cloth of gold, embellished with the silken designs that Chinese art delights in. with a black, lacy embroidery cut squarely across her white bosom, leaving the broad shoulders and ■swelling bust to dazzle by the comparison. Conceive a head and features nobly proportioned; brow- expansive; eyes like full orbs of dim fire half-discovering, halfveiling the secrets of life; curved lips as ruby-red as the wine she sipped. Over her dark hair trailed the sprays of a white and purple orchid. It was unthinkable, that she was a Chinese woman. I scanned the doctor's face, suspiciously, and marked the sardonic humour faintly shadowed thereon. I had not long been seated beside this radiant creature before I began to suffer unendurable pangs. It was as though the nerves of all my teeth were, barred as I ate. The pain was so great it brought drops of sweat through my pores until my underclothing was saturated. 1

was almost overcome and then realised, in a Hash, that the doctor for some purpose of his own was putting me to the test. I am an obstinate man, and I resolved to stand njy ground. I kept my seat. 1 ate all he put before me. In the conversation, in which I maintained my part, Keaon, that was her name, interposed only occasionally. But her remarks revealed a mind as extraordinary as her beauty. I believe I fell in love with her there and then. My heart, sick with pain though it was, beat tumultuously in my breast and, with all the boldness of my disposition and despite the presence of her superhuman father, I plied her with looks and tokens of passion. At the conclusion of the meal Keaon rose, touched with her lingers of snow my own hot ones, and passed out of the room. I rose also and prepared to take my leave. The doctor himself attended tne and opened the big street door revealing the London street with its straight outlines, i'ls glimmering gas rays, its mirk and damp. Its eold air seemed to fan to flame in my breast the hatred of , West for East. A sudden desire to return his trick of cruelty possessed me. I, who know how to reduce a man’s hand to pulp, put all my muscle into my hand-grip for a full half minute. The fellow was not human, though, for his placid smile never changed. “Yon must come again,” he murmured laconically. “Thanks, 1 will,” I replied. Tn the light of the nearest street lamp I stopped to wipe the blood front my hand. On a 'thought I looked back at the house and, at a dark window, saw the moonlike face of the doctor blandly smiling at me. My teeth tingled again. What was the meaning of it all? But, as I wooed sleep in the hard bed of my Bloomsbury rooms the doctor’s was not the face that haunted me. Determined to accept it, I expected and waited the further invitation of Dr. Tien-Ming. I was now quite ready to run the tremendous risks instinct warned me of. I was not invited out of love, nor granted the dazzling vision of hiss daughter for a trilling reason. Something was wanted, my wealth, my soul, maybe. . A week went by, borne only by exercise of Spartan patience because of \ha vision of luminous eyes and scarlet lips that hovered 'before my mental sight. On the eighth day the call came. I do not mean I received any written or spoken message, I simply became conscious that the doctor desired my. visit. I called and spent the evening wiih Keaon and her father, this time without experiencing any pain or discomfort.

I was invited in the same peculiar manner twice or thrice more and then I found that, loving Keaon with all the desperate madness of my nature, I must speedily learn my fate or cease to bear any resemblance to a rational creature. Occasion served me well. On the visit following, as we sat at dinner, Keaon by my side, the old servitor shambled to the doctor’s side and whispered in his ear. rj'he doctor rose and left us alone saying, “Pardon me, an indent case.” I at once made up my mind to seize the moment. I sprang to my feet ami stood ov?r her. I laid my hand on her bee.utihil wrist. “Keaon,” 1 exclaimed recklessly, “I ■have met you but seldom. I scarcely know you. I cannot fathom you, so strange you are, a beautiful, mysterious human flower. But listen, I love you as few men can love. Tell me, will you accept and return my love?” {•he sat efill a moment, not shyiv, not confusedly, rather in an absolute calm but looking up at me with eyes whose depths I could by no means plumb. Words came at last, words like a child softly and sweetly reading a lesson. “Yours is a man’s love, worth having. I gladly give mine in exchange.” A glow and a passionate response grew bright in her eyes and curved her lips into sweetness. I know not how long a time elapsed ere I heard a chuckle behind me, and the doctor’s voice surprised my ears. ‘ You want a father's blessing, my daughter—-and my son-to-be.” There was a chuckle in his voice and a faint smile on his lips that made my pulse surge with anger. I could not but feel that somehow, in some form, the Conjuring humbug had been privy to the whole of our proceedings. I made haste to leave before I lost control of my rising temper. He was so confoundedly omnipresent, in one’s very soul so to speak. No thought of him, however, intruded to mar the first lover’s parting between Kaeon and myself in the doctor’s English entranee ball. How soon she fell into the way of lovers, a way that had a refreshing domesticity to a life long wayfarer. She helped me on with my coat. She laid her hands on my cheeks and drew down my head. She opened the door and I went down the steps. My feet on the mire of the pavement, the cold air on my heated face, I, an English gentleman, turned and waved a hand to her who stood in the doorway, a figure of surpassing beauty and stateliness garbed, alienly, in floating warmth and colour. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” I called softly. “Good-night, sweetheart,” she echoed in music like silver bells. The door closed and I sped through the long, dark streets feeling the touch of her hands on my face, seeing the sparkle of her eyes and hearing the silken rustle of her dress. Seeing that I was now Kaeon’s accepted lover I felt myself at liberty to see her whenever 1 chose. So, after an interminable night, I set out the very next morning to call on her. 1 found myself, immediately, groping my way through one of the worst of London fogs. Being a comparative stranger I made but tardy progress. I was therefore on tenterhooks of impatience which somehow passed subtly into the deepest anxiety. I felt there was something sadly wrong with things with Kaeon, it must be. I could not but realise there were the most, weird spiritual connections between the doctor his daughter and myself. After all 1 was so hopelessly in the dark concerning them. >So I sought my way from lamp to lamp in the streets in a most unusual fret and fume. And as I progressed an idea in my mind crystallised into a plan. 1 would enter the doctor’s house by stealth if opportunity served, the fog would help me, and discover if I could some of those secrets that haunted his eyes when he looker! at me. As luck would have it, I found one of the front windows open. 1 looked round, saw no one near, and at once pushed up the bottom frame and clambered through. I crept stealthily through many rooms and passages, some English in style, some C hinese, la-fore I saw or heard anyone. Then, suddenly, lifting a curtain, 1 came upon a scene the blurred whole of which, for the fog penetrated everywhere, almost made me cry out. It was a room like an operating theatre, the doctor stood there in it bending over a centre table on which was strapped a form like e recumbent marble statue, a form of ■welling curves and matchless beauty. But 1 knew at ouve the statue was wkite

flesh. It was Kaeon, a rug half covered her. As soon as ever sense surged back to me I perceived the meaning of it aIL This doctor, this inhuman man, was conducting an experiment on his own daughter. But that daughter was my promised wife. I strode forward in a blinding fury. Tire doctor faced round and when he saw me glared like a tiger at bay. On the insant I had to meet the full power of titanic will. Flames seemed to beat on my brain from his twirling fingers, moonlike faee and eyes like volcano’s cores. I shut my eyes and fought to retain my own will. Though it was like breaking a bar of iron I swung out my right arm and felt my fist smash into the pulpy face. Then 1 heard the dull fall of his heavy body. Released from his spell I opened my eyes and casting first a glance at the crumpled form on the floor with its halfhidden blood-splashed faee. I turned to the table and tore away the straps. I snatched up a huge bear-skin and wrapped Keaon in it hurriedly, anxious to escape with my precious burden. With an unaccustomed quake in my heart I sidled stealthily away' from the fallen monster and sunk back through passages and rooms until 1 discovered the welcome street door. In the friendly fog 1 breathed freely again, and with a growing gladness I carried Keaon all the way to my rooms, folding the rug closely about her. I had my latch-key' and reaching my room unobserved. I laid my burden on a couch and stirred the fire until it roared cheerfully. No thought of future peril troubled me. I sat beside my love awaiting her return to consciousness. - She was marvellously still, I could detect no sign of life but 1 was quite sure it was merely insensibility, not death. But suddenly, my joy was snuffed out like a candle. 1 knew my enemy had recovered and his will had sought out, and grappled with mine. His call grew increasingly insistent. Voices seemed to bell in my ears. A compulsion increasing, untiring was exerted upon mind and body that it was a sore struggle to resist. As I clutched the marble wrists of my love to hold myself to her I felt the tingling grip of invisible hands on mine to draw me back through the streets. The darkness came, the ashes of my fire grew eold but still 1 battled through the long hours of agony. I swayed moaning on the hearthrug, the grip on my wrists as vehement as mine on hers. Blood dropped from my cracked lips, my lids strained back from eyeballs hot and dry as stones in the sun. I was on the border of insanity. Still I resisted. I had no count of the hours that elapsed. But slowly, dimly, the conviction came to my mind that 1 should have to give way unless I met and fought my enemy face to faee in the Englishman’s open way while I yet had possession of my faculties. I decided to go- to him, not in submission, but in defiance. It was black night with a dim glow of stars when I set out. Before leaving her, I caught in my arms my hardly-wrested prize, my Keaon. I crushed her to my heart a long minute, the scalding tears raining from my eyes upon her flower-like face, hot enough of themselves to sting its delicacy into life. Then, I slipped furtively out of the house in a desperate anguish, my errand nothing less than the death of the Chinaman. 1 had had no meat or drink for I know not how' long, but I had no thought of it, I was.throbbing with feverish energy. The dark streets were greasy with mud and sleet as 1 ran through them. Unseeing, unheeding 1 made straight for a burning centre of thought and feeling to a flame like a moth in its last flight. I was not surprised when I ran into my foe in the middle of a long street. He also lusted for a death tussle. A hand’s reach apart we came to a standstill. 1 saw his flame-like eyes, I felt his hot breath, but here in the cold London street, 1 kept the mastery. “My daughter,” he hissed, all his masks gone. “Is no longer yours, but mine.” “Fool.” “Devil.” “Fool,” he reiterated and a certain significance in his tone troubled my assurance. “You gross animal, you have undone us all. You might have had the substance and you have stolen the sliadow. I had intended- —” He laughed like the baffled hyena 'he was. He put out a fat hand, pleadingly and wailed: “Listen, you shall have her. Keaon,

real, alive. Bring her back to me anc I promise you even yet your desire.” I thought he was still playing on my ignorance and my fears. “Never! I -will not parley with you. You shall go to answer for your devilry.” I leapt at him, but I was contending with something electric, occult, a whirlwind; breaking into it 1 heard the loud toot of a motor-car. I glanced and saw its glaring lights fly at us, saw it swerve to shoot narrowly iby ami then, instinctively with a mad effort 1 flung the Chinaman in a lump between the blinding lights. The thud of the impact was like a not of music in my ear. With inexpressible relief I stood panting, unnoting the stopped car and its running occupants. I was recalled to myself by a touch on my arm and a voice. I saw a constable and, on the instant, I thought of Keaon in her pallid -trance now, no doubt, released from the spell of the doctor, opening eyes. O heaven! to seek me. I turned, knocked away the knot of people about me and ran fast and strong along the clear way to my rooms leaving all pursuers behind. I bounded up the stairs. 1 dashed open 'the door and flung myself on my knees before the couch. There was no light in the room. But I put my arm over her and laid my cheeks on hers. I sprang back. My heart stopped. I screamed aloud. I fumbled for matches. I struck a light. I held the. match over her face. My straining eyes saw —a horror worse than death—she was crumbling a wayhow can I tell it? In a flash I understood everything. I backed out of the room, with reason tottering, my senses and my thoughts a hellish riot within me. I plunged down the stairs to the street laughing eldritehly. The constable took me, whitefaced and gibbering to this cell in which I have attempted to write it all down.