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Little Stories - Silas Weir Mitchell · Melmoth The Wanderer

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  Speaker 1: Section one of Little Stories. This is a LibriVox recording.
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  Speaker 1: All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
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  Speaker 1: information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Read
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  Speaker 1: by Ben Tucker. Little Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell. A consultation.
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  Speaker 1: Both men were physicians. The older of the two was
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  Speaker 1: far on in a life of success. The man he
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  Speaker 1: bade be seated, had blue eyes and was the owner
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  Speaker 1: of forty well used years. Glad to see you, John,
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  Speaker 1: said the older man. He was about to add you
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  Speaker 1: look worried, but on second thoughts, said only what can
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  Speaker 1: I do for you? You can listen to me for ten
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  Speaker 1: minutes as long as you like. You know, we do
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  Speaker 1: that all day. Don't hurry. You know doctor that I
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  Speaker 1: was once engaged to Helen Daunton. That was ten years ago. Yes,
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  Speaker 1: I know quite so, yes, yes, remember it well? Yes.
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  Speaker 1: The younger man said, no, you do not know, and
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  Speaker 1: don't say yes yes that way. The gray head turned
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  Speaker 1: with a quick side glance of questioning observation, and knew
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  Speaker 1: at once that this was a man to be taken
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  Speaker 1: with care. He said, go on, John, I interrupted you.
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  Speaker 1: I fell ill. I went to India and Australia. When
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  Speaker 1: I came back, she was married, the wife of all men, Wanfell,
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  Speaker 1: the banker. He was thirty years older than she. What
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  Speaker 1: what was I saying? I mean, she was thirty years
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  Speaker 1: younger than he. I did not know why she did it.
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  Speaker 1: Now I know. The older man said, oh, I remember
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  Speaker 1: her well, she was beautiful. But John interrupted hastily, that's unnecessary.
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  Speaker 1: I wish you would listen. Here. He rose and bent
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  Speaker 1: over his friend, who remained seated, a hand on his cheek,
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  Speaker 1: intent and a little anxious. This fellow Wanfell was my
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  Speaker 1: father's partner and ruined him. Yes, yes, Oh, damn it,
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  Speaker 1: don't say yes, yes that way. The hazel eyes below
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  Speaker 1: the gray hair became more tenderly attentive. Pardon me, John,
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  Speaker 1: I sometimes forget how to listen. Well, don't do that again.
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  Speaker 1: I can't bear it. I have hoped the years would
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  Speaker 1: give me a chance. I mean, I hope that the
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  Speaker 1: man would some day be in my power. He is
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  Speaker 1: he was, and now now here. He paused, and then
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  Speaker 1: went on, What was it I was saying? Oh, that woman?
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  Speaker 1: The older physician laid a hand on his arm. You
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  Speaker 1: were saying, John, I think no, No, you ask me
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  Speaker 1: why she married that scoundrel. No, my dear fellow, I
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  Speaker 1: did not ask, but your eyes asked. You must excuse them.
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  Speaker 1: The curiosity of the eyes is not to be governed.
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  Speaker 1: But go on, what else is there? Tell me quietly?
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  Speaker 1: John sat down quietly like God. You know, sir, I
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  Speaker 1: have never cared for any other woman. She has always
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  Speaker 1: had my love. I've kept away from her. We have
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  Speaker 1: met but twice in a chance way, and once for
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  Speaker 1: a mad moment. Now, sir, now, Ugh, that woman, that
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  Speaker 1: woman I knew she could not help it, and she is.
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  Speaker 1: She is. Drop her, John, and tell me what you
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  Speaker 1: want of me. I will, I will. It is just this.
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  Speaker 1: A week ago, late about eleven at night, a servant
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  Speaker 1: came in haste with a note from her. Would I
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  Speaker 1: come instantly to see one fell? He had had a fit?
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  Speaker 1: I went, Of course, I went. She said I must
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  Speaker 1: keep the case. God help and pardon me. I did,
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  Speaker 1: I did? Why did you? Why do you ask me?
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  Speaker 1: You know well enough? Are you still in charge? Yes?
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  Speaker 1: He is very ill, half conscious, a decayed beast. He
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  Speaker 1: may die any moment, any moment, or drag on for
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  Speaker 1: years years. I see, No, you do not. Every day
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  Speaker 1: she says, how long will he last? Will he die soon?
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  Speaker 1: It is cruel to try to keep him alive. People
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  Speaker 1: often say that, said the older physician. I know, but
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  Speaker 1: you understand. Don't trifle with me. I told you what
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  Speaker 1: she said, and you should not want me to say more.
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  Speaker 1: I will not. Whatever I can do for you, I
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  Speaker 1: will do. Then take this case off my hands. You
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  Speaker 1: or someone must take it very well. John, I it
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  Speaker 1: isn't well at all. Help me now at once. Can't
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  Speaker 1: you see my trouble? Yes? I saw it all along.
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  Speaker 1: I will help you. It is easy easy. Nothing is easy.
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  Speaker 1: I say, I cannot stand it. That half dead dog
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  Speaker 1: and that that woman. He stood up and went on.
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  Speaker 1: Now do you think I was right to yield? To
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  Speaker 1: stay on? Stay on? Bity me? I had two good
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  Speaker 1: I mean two bad reasons, the man and the woman.
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  Speaker 1: I am plain. You see he laughed, and it was
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  Speaker 1: not a laugh good to hear. I shall be frank
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  Speaker 1: with you, my friend. You were wrong. You hate him
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  Speaker 1: and you love John broke In. Don't say that kind
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  Speaker 1: of thing. Don't hint it. But my dear fellow, we
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  Speaker 1: won't discuss it. I am the person concerned. You Let
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  Speaker 1: him alone and her too. You never were in the
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  Speaker 1: hell of a marriage like that. What must I do?
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  Speaker 1: I want to be made to do something forced? Be
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  Speaker 1: quiet a moment, sit down, and I will answer you.
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  Speaker 1: He took out his watch and laid a finger on
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  Speaker 1: his friend's pulse. Presently, he looked up and said, smiling,
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  Speaker 1: consulted me and now as your doctor, I say, my
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  Speaker 1: dear fellow, that you are in no state to practice medicine.
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  Speaker 1: And that is so neither are you fit to have
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  Speaker 1: the charge of a man who may die at any moment,
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  Speaker 1: and who ought to die damn him? Yes, but it
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  Speaker 1: must not be while he is in your care. Go
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  Speaker 1: out of town at once today. Do not write to her.
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  Speaker 1: I will call and explain it all to her to
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  Speaker 1: missus onefell Yes, you will do that, and I am ill,
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  Speaker 1: very ill. Thank you. Don't you think I ought to
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  Speaker 1: see her before I go? I do not promise me
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  Speaker 1: that you will not. I will not see her, Oh never,
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  Speaker 1: never stay away three weeks? How can I You must
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  Speaker 1: now go? Where is my hat here? Now? I have
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  Speaker 1: your word. In a day or two you will be
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  Speaker 1: glad you went. John left him, saying thank you. Yeah, yes,
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  Speaker 1: I am sick enough soul sick. The elder man went
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  Speaker 1: with him to the door. Returning, he sat down and
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  Speaker 1: playing with his WatchGuard. Was still a little while, and
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  Speaker 1: then spoke aloud the final conclusion of his reflections, which
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  Speaker 1: was a way he had. It is very easy to
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  Speaker 1: let a man die. I was wise to make him
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  Speaker 1: run away from it. If he had done his best,
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  Speaker 1: and that rascal died, he would have lived in the
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  Speaker 1: shadow of remorse, where no crime had been. And if
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  Speaker 1: here he ceased to speak. But by and bye, he
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  Speaker 1: murmured as he rose, What of the woman? A touch
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  Speaker 1: and a look may say? Do it? He is told?
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  Speaker 1: Be half? The younger man went to Achin and played golf.
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  Speaker 1: At the close of a fortnight, he received two telegrams.
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  Speaker 1: One was from the doctor. He went home the next day,
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  Speaker 1: but did not go to the funeral of wanfell. As
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  Speaker 1: the years went by, some of his friends wondered why
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  Speaker 1: he did not marry the woman he had once loved.
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  Speaker 1: When the old doctor's wife was thus curious, her husband
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  Speaker 1: said that he believed he knew why, but would never tell.
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  Speaker 1: When urged to explain himself, he stated at last that
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  Speaker 1: it was all clearly set forth in the New Testament.
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  Speaker 1: End of section one Section two of Little Stories by
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  Speaker 1: Silas Weir Mitchell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: Read by Ben Tucker. Two men these ought ye to
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  Speaker 1: do and not to leave the others undone. A pale
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  Speaker 1: young man sat down on a bench in the park
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  Speaker 1: behind the reservoir on forty second Street. He put a
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  Speaker 1: torn bag of tools under the bench. A small sallow
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  Speaker 1: and came behind him. He stooped to steal the bag.
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  Speaker 1: The paleman turned and said, in a slow, tired way
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  Speaker 1: drop that it ain't worth stealing. The other said not
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  Speaker 1: if you're looking. The paleman set the bag at his
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  Speaker 1: feet and said, it's a poor business you're in. You
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  Speaker 1: don't look as if yours was any better. He sat down.
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  Speaker 1: What's you're calling? I'm an iron worker, bridge work. Don't
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  Speaker 1: look strong enough. That's so. I'm just out of Bellevue hospital.
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  Speaker 1: Got hurt three months ago. I'm just out of hospital too.
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  Speaker 1: What hospital? Said the bridge builder, sing sing what jail? Yes?
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  Speaker 1: Not bad in winter either. There's a society helps a
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  Speaker 1: fellow after you quit. That hospital gives you good clothes too, clothes?
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  Speaker 1: Is that? So? Get yo work? Work? Good? God? I
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  Speaker 1: wish they'd get me some. You ain't bad enough. Go
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  Speaker 1: a grab somethin. Get a short sentence, first crime, come
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  Speaker 1: out an get looked after a button. Nice ladies, My god,
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  Speaker 1: didn't they do nothing for you when you got out
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  Speaker 1: of the hospital. No, why the devil should they? I'm
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  Speaker 1: only an honest mechanic. Are you goin? He felt his loneliness. Yes,
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  Speaker 1: I've got to go after that job. It'll give me
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  Speaker 1: time to look about me. Gosh, but you look bad.
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  Speaker 1: Good Bye. The sallow man rose, looked back, jingled the
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  Speaker 1: few coins in his pocket, hesitated, and walked away, whistling.
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  Speaker 1: The pale man sat still on the bench, staring down
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  Speaker 1: at the ragged bag of tools at his feet. End
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  Speaker 1: of section two, Section three of Little Stories by Silas
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  Speaker 1: Weir Mitchell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: Read by Ben Tucker. Haraun the Caliph Haround. The Caliph
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  Speaker 1: walking by night in Baghdad, saw one standing without the
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  Speaker 1: great closed doors of the Bazaar of the gold Workers,
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  Speaker 1: with naught upon him but his frail kamis. Then it
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  Speaker 1: was cold. Who's art thou? Said the Caliph? I am
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  Speaker 1: a merchant of amunits, returned the man, I am starving,
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  Speaker 1: and I saw my coverings one by one, as a
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  Speaker 1: tree in autumn letteth a fist wind have its leaves
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  Speaker 1: rather than fall a heap and die. I am a
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  Speaker 1: child of misery from my birth. Then said the Caliph,
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  Speaker 1: take this, eat, drink, and be merry, and gave him
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  Speaker 1: the great ruby, which men call the Eye of Love,
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  Speaker 1: and went on his way in peace. The next night,
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  Speaker 1: Horan came again, and, finding the merchant of emulets about
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  Speaker 1: to die for want of food, cried, alas, why did
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  Speaker 1: you not sell my jewel and live? Then answered the
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  Speaker 1: dying man. Some said it was false, some said it
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  Speaker 1: was stolen, and none would buy it. Is as when
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  Speaker 1: Allah gives a too great gift of soul to a
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  Speaker 1: lowly man, it getteth him only the food of mockery.
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  Speaker 1: But now I have the amulet called death, and I
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  Speaker 1: shall no more hunger or care. Upon this the man died,
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  Speaker 1: and the Caliph took the Eye of Love from the
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  Speaker 1: clutch of death, and went his way hand in hand
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  Speaker 1: with thought. End of section three, Section four of Little
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  Speaker 1: Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell. This LibriVox recording is in
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  Speaker 1: the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. The Waters of oblivion.
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  Speaker 1: Two years after the mutiny, John Hughes, a young captain
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  Speaker 1: of infantry, was stationed at Merut. This man knew many
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  Speaker 1: tongues and loved to wrestle with dialects. One hot day
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  Speaker 1: in the bazaar, he entered a book shop, and among
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  Speaker 1: piles of trash, fell upon a thin pamphlet. It was
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  Speaker 1: stitched between purple paper covers, and, as he soon made out,
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  Speaker 1: was a manuscript in polly. Now, Polly is a tongue
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  Speaker 1: which few white men understand. It delighted the captain, who
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  Speaker 1: paid a trifle and put the leaves in his pocket.
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  Speaker 1: He dined at the mess. Returning late that night to
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  Speaker 1: his quarters, he found the book on his table, where
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  Speaker 1: his servant had laid it. He made himself comfortable, lighted
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  Speaker 1: at chrut, and took up the pamphlet. Yes, it was
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  Speaker 1: written with care and polly, of which he knew. Something.
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  Speaker 1: He remembered that a certain reverend, a mission priest, had
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  Speaker 1: made a full vocabulary of this tongue. He got up, and,
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  Speaker 1: after some search, found it, and sat down again to
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  Speaker 1: enjoy the pleasing exasperations of a language of which he
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  Speaker 1: knew enough to be preassured of the difficulties it presented.
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  Speaker 1: But first he looked the little book over the covers
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  Speaker 1: of a purple, which was, unlike other purples, were faded,
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  Speaker 1: worn and frayed. Usually these second hand bazaar books had
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  Speaker 1: queer smells by which their past might be guessed. The
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  Speaker 1: little Purple manuscript had a faint fragrance, which vainly taxed
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  Speaker 1: his remembrance for the place where he had known it.
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  Speaker 1: As he ran over the pages, he saw that some
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  Speaker 1: one had made marginal comments of small importance. At the
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  Speaker 1: end of the book were written four lines in a
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  Speaker 1: very minute English script, And as he concluded, by a
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  Speaker 1: woman's hand. The ink had faded, and it was so
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  Speaker 1: hard to read by candlelight that he gave up the effort,
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  Speaker 1: thinking that it would be easier to make out by day.
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  Speaker 1: The book was his real attraction. He settled himself for
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  Speaker 1: about with its meanings, as eager as a traveler in
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  Speaker 1: a strange land. On the inside of the front cover
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  Speaker 1: was written in a large masculine hand. This book was
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  Speaker 1: once a man. The phrase pleased him. I like that,
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  Speaker 1: he said aloud. That ought to be put over the
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  Speaker 1: door of a library. He wondered if it were a quotation,
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  Speaker 1: or if the reading of the manuscript had prompted it.
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  Speaker 1: He looked around the room. There were books everywhere, on
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  Speaker 1: chair and table, a few in his own language, the
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  Speaker 1: greater books, and many in the tongues of the East.
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  Speaker 1: Some were native manuscripts. He felt for a time as
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  Speaker 1: though the room were a spirit haunted. Dreamy pleasure in
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  Speaker 1: the thought kept his fancy busy for a while, and
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  Speaker 1: he said aloud, yes, every book was once a man.
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  Speaker 1: At last he returned to the purple tinted little volume,
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  Speaker 1: saying to himself, so two other english people have handled
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  Speaker 1: and perhaps read it. That alone gave the script unusual interest,
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  Speaker 1: for few of his own race read Polly. It began thus,
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  Speaker 1: I Abdallah, a man of Ceylon, on the ninth day
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  Speaker 1: of the seventh moon, being now in my thirty first year,
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  Speaker 1: here set down certain things for my own remembrance. I
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  Speaker 1: shall write of my search for the well of the
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  Speaker 1: waters of forgetfulness. I am assured by the wise moon
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  Speaker 1: Sheh salak Bay that in them a man may wash
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  Speaker 1: away remembrance and be as the dead who are born
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  Speaker 1: again without memories of the life they have lost. Thus
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  Speaker 1: shall I cease to know that in anger, I slew him.
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  Speaker 1: I loved best my father's sun by George, said the captain,
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  Speaker 1: what a queer find. He sat a little while with
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  Speaker 1: a booklet open on his knee. Had it been written English,
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  Speaker 1: and had he been in his own land, he would
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  Speaker 1: have smiled at this dreamer or mystic. But the East
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  Speaker 1: is the East, and he had lived much among its people.
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  Speaker 1: He returned to the pages and slowly and painfully made
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  Speaker 1: out their meaning, finding it even harder because of being
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  Speaker 1: in written characters. There were in all, or had been,
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  Speaker 1: as he counted, sixty three pages. Two were missing, in part,
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  Speaker 1: as he saw by the torn remainders. For the most part,
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  Speaker 1: it was a record of distances traveled, of visits to
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  Speaker 1: noted temples, and of vast footsore wanderings here and there
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  Speaker 1: were bits of more personal reflection over these. The captain paused,
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  Speaker 1: being a man of imaginative turn, to enter sympathetically into
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  Speaker 1: the ways of the native mind. Ah, he exclaimed, as
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  Speaker 1: he made clear to himself this passage. If I find
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  Speaker 1: what I seek and so lose remembrance of all that
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  Speaker 1: has been, whither will have gone the thoughts of my life?
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  Speaker 1: Shall I never meet them? Again. Surely the thoughts of
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  Speaker 1: a man do not die, but are fragments of the
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  Speaker 1: eternal mind, and go hence whither they came, being as
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  Speaker 1: children that are born and die live again elsewhere. A
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  Speaker 1: little further, he read, if I lose all memory and
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  Speaker 1: have release from the hell of seeing the dead always
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  Speaker 1: at my feet in his blood, I shall forget too
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  Speaker 1: my wife and my son. I must decide to keep
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  Speaker 1: my anguish and my love, or to part with both.
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  Speaker 1: I have made my choice again, he read, I have
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  Speaker 1: lost by my own act a man dear to me,
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  Speaker 1: I have both the grief and the sin. Long have
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  Speaker 1: I wondered in the land of sorrow? There every man
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  Speaker 1: is alone, and there is no language. For in the
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  Speaker 1: land of sorrow there is but one inhabitant, great Buddha.
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  Speaker 1: But that is all pretty grim, said the reader, and
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  Speaker 1: went on with rapt attention. As he read, the manuscript
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  Speaker 1: became harder to decipher, the ink paler, the letters ill formed,
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  Speaker 1: blurred or giving signs of trimmer. At last he came
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  Speaker 1: on a date and knew that the writer must have
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  Speaker 1: been many years wandering. A man in the vigor of
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  Speaker 1: life wrote the first lines. It was an old man
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  Speaker 1: who wrote the last clearly insane from remorse, thought the captain.
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  Speaker 1: It was now far into the night, but still the
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  Speaker 1: indistinct pages held him as he read on and on,
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  Speaker 1: finding now and then that words he should have known
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  Speaker 1: well obliged him to pause and search for elusive meanings.
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  Speaker 1: He concluded at length that his brain was tired and
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  Speaker 1: had the uncertainty of action which overtired muscles exhibit. He
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  Speaker 1: reluctantly laid aside the little book and undressed. When ready
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  Speaker 1: for bed, his curiosity prevailing, he took it up again,
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  Speaker 1: reading with increase of difficulty. Near the close, he found
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  Speaker 1: this passage, which at once reassured his reason as to
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  Speaker 1: the unhappy writer's delusion. At last, I knew at morning
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  Speaker 1: that it was near, And now at evening I have
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  Speaker 1: found the valley and the seven red stones, as the
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  Speaker 1: moon she described them. I am here where the years
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  Speaker 1: and long travel have brought me. The veil slopes sharply
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  Speaker 1: and is clad with bamboos. A path winds among them,
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  Speaker 1: And here is that I seek. An abounding spring rises
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  Speaker 1: up in vast flow, and must return whither it came,
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  Speaker 1: for it has no outlet. The earth continually takes back
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  Speaker 1: what it gave. This is as I was told the
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  Speaker 1: well of the waters of forgetfulness. Here I have sat
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  Speaker 1: long in thought. At last I take out my pen
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  Speaker 1: and write. Soon all the past will fade by degrees,
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  Speaker 1: and never after shall I know it. Even what I
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  Speaker 1: write will be as if it were the story of
• 21:20
  Speaker 1: what another wrote. My brother will be avenged, even in
• 21:25
  Speaker 1: my relief, because I shall no more see those I love,
• 21:29
  Speaker 1: or know them as my own. I sit here in
• 21:32
  Speaker 1: the shadows and think on what has been and what
• 21:34
  Speaker 1: will be. I shall feel the world of memories fading,
• 21:38
  Speaker 1: like a tablet that is cleansed. It will come slowly,
• 21:43
  Speaker 1: I shall feel the joy of forgetting. I have washed
• 21:47
  Speaker 1: in the spring and wondered. It is not like the
• 21:51
  Speaker 1: waters of earth. It does not wet the hand or head,
• 21:56
  Speaker 1: but it is as if a cool wind went over them.
• 22:00
  Speaker 1: And now I dip it in my garments and write
• 22:03
  Speaker 1: in haste, being aware that all my past life is
• 22:06
  Speaker 1: growing dim to me. Let my latest words be of thanks.
• 22:12
  Speaker 1: Here followed a few lines under which the hand of
• 22:14
  Speaker 1: a woman had written the words which the reader had
• 22:17
  Speaker 1: observed on his first look at the manuscript. He was
• 22:21
  Speaker 1: now too eager to wait he found a magnifying glass,
• 22:24
  Speaker 1: and then easily read this rendering of the final lines
• 22:29
  Speaker 1: By the waters of Oblivion, I sat down and wept
• 22:33
  Speaker 1: by the waters of oblivion, life slumbered and slept. Then
• 22:38
  Speaker 1: she had added, would that I also could find them
• 22:42
  Speaker 1: or forgiveness Again. The captain sat quiet in thought, wondering
• 22:47
  Speaker 1: who and what the woman was. The strangeness of this
• 22:51
  Speaker 1: wild story held him, and he smiled at the feeling
• 22:54
  Speaker 1: of how near he was to accepting it as true,
• 22:57
  Speaker 1: but he had felt before the spell of the Eastern
• 22:59
  Speaker 1: worlds world. At last, he rose and looked about him.
• 23:03
  Speaker 1: He had a baffling sensation of everything in the room
• 23:06
  Speaker 1: being remote from him, and of a little trouble in
• 23:10
  Speaker 1: recalling something to which he was to attend next day.
• 23:13
  Speaker 1: He dismissed it, acknowledging anew the scholar's experience of the
• 23:17
  Speaker 1: effect of mental tension, which had gone far beyond the
• 23:21
  Speaker 1: mere needs of the translation. He went to bed and
• 23:24
  Speaker 1: lay a long while, thinking about the man's madness and
• 23:27
  Speaker 1: seeing the gaunt, white figure in the bamboo grove bending
• 23:31
  Speaker 1: over what he believed to be the waters of oblivion.
• 23:35
  Speaker 1: Then he slept. At morning, his servant awakened him and said,
• 23:39
  Speaker 1: the bath is ready, the Sahib's garments are here. The
• 23:42
  Speaker 1: Sahib was hard to waken, and he will be late
• 23:44
  Speaker 1: for parade. The young man sat up and said, who
• 23:48
  Speaker 1: are you? Where am I? The man repeated his statement.
• 23:51
  Speaker 1: As Hughes got out of bed. The servant left him.
• 23:56
  Speaker 1: Hughes said, long afterwards when he told me this tale,
• 24:01
  Speaker 1: I sat down and tried to recall something which I
• 24:03
  Speaker 1: had not done the night before. I could not. I
• 24:08
  Speaker 1: found the room unusual rather than altogether new. I forgot
• 24:12
  Speaker 1: the parade, and began to look at this and that.
• 24:15
  Speaker 1: I was like a ship in a fog, which now
• 24:18
  Speaker 1: clears and leaves only a thin mist, and then isolates
• 24:21
  Speaker 1: the ship in gray aloofness. I remembered that I must
• 24:25
  Speaker 1: clap my hands when I wanted something. I did so.
• 24:29
  Speaker 1: My man came back. I asked, what are these for?
• 24:32
  Speaker 1: Pointing to my equipments, He said the Captain Sahib's uniform.
• 24:37
  Speaker 1: I took up a photograph and asked who it was.
• 24:39
  Speaker 1: It seemed to me a beautiful woman, Great Allah, it
• 24:44
  Speaker 1: is the lady the Captain Sahib will marry. I laughed
• 24:48
  Speaker 1: and said inanely I I don't remember on this the
• 24:52
  Speaker 1: man fled. I recalled nothing else, but they said I
• 24:55
  Speaker 1: slept two days. An ass of a doctor declared I
• 24:58
  Speaker 1: had had sunstroke. It was nonsense. I was up the
• 25:02
  Speaker 1: third day and as fit as anybody. However, something was
• 25:06
  Speaker 1: wrong with me. I think that now I know very
• 25:09
  Speaker 1: well what it was. I was a month that Simla
• 25:12
  Speaker 1: before I entirely recovered my memory, and to this day
• 25:15
  Speaker 1: the photograph of my wife has now and then that
• 25:19
  Speaker 1: curious look of far awayness I had felt about things
• 25:22
  Speaker 1: in my room. Soon after our marriage. I told my
• 25:26
  Speaker 1: wife this rather queer story. The next day she burned
• 25:30
  Speaker 1: the book, and, as she told me, did not even
• 25:33
  Speaker 1: open it, which I thought wise interesting and unusual. As
• 25:39
  Speaker 1: for the sunstroke, that is bosh and India is a
• 25:43
  Speaker 1: very bewildering country. End of section four, Section five of
• 25:57
  Speaker 1: Little Stories by Silas, where Mitchell this LibriVox recording is
• 26:02
  Speaker 1: in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. Conversion. A
• 26:10
  Speaker 1: Sufi dervish, the father of sorrow and the son of Grief,
• 26:16
  Speaker 1: sat at night by the sea. The waves, like sleek serpents,
• 26:21
  Speaker 1: writhed at his feet and hissed, forth, come let us
• 26:27
  Speaker 1: strangle thee in thy griefs and make an end. Ah
• 26:34
  Speaker 1: welcome death, he answered. Then a greater billow rolling in
• 26:40
  Speaker 1: covered him and went back, and the man was very wet.
• 26:45
  Speaker 1: Thereupon he went home and dried his clothes. End of
• 26:51
  Speaker 1: section five Section six of Little Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell.
• 27:04
  Speaker 1: This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Read by
• 27:07
  Speaker 1: Ben Tucker. A man and a woman. It was midnight
• 27:14
  Speaker 1: and very dark at times. The moon shone clear between
• 27:18
  Speaker 1: hurrying storm clouds. The river was in flood, and over
• 27:22
  Speaker 1: the wharfs, the waters checked by the stone piers, rose
• 27:27
  Speaker 1: high and swept in tumult under the arches of the
• 27:30
  Speaker 1: bridge over it. A man walked with quick steps. He
• 27:34
  Speaker 1: stood still midway and stared at the black current as
• 27:37
  Speaker 1: it swept on, with here and there flashes of foam.
• 27:41
  Speaker 1: Along the farther footway, a woman moved slowly. The man
• 27:45
  Speaker 1: climbed to the parapet and threw himself into the flood.
• 27:50
  Speaker 1: He rose, aware of the instinctive desire to live, but
• 27:54
  Speaker 1: death was sweeter. He threw up his arms that he
• 27:57
  Speaker 1: might sink and have his will and die. A white
• 28:01
  Speaker 1: thing went by him, something stronger than the longing for
• 28:04
  Speaker 1: death mastered him. He caught at the woman and held
• 28:08
  Speaker 1: up her head. He must save her, he knew that.
• 28:12
  Speaker 1: He set his skilled strength to the task. The flashes
• 28:16
  Speaker 1: of light on the water went by. The woman made
• 28:19
  Speaker 1: no struggle. At last, there were no more wharves, and
• 28:23
  Speaker 1: all was dark. He felt the water to be less
• 28:26
  Speaker 1: wilful by degrees. He neared the shore, touched with his
• 28:30
  Speaker 1: feet the soft ooze beneath, and staggered up a grass
• 28:34
  Speaker 1: slope with his burden. Was she dead? It seemed horrible. No.
• 28:40
  Speaker 1: He felt her heart beat. She was young and slight
• 28:43
  Speaker 1: more he could not see. He laid her down and
• 28:47
  Speaker 1: began to move and chafe her limbs, saying to himself,
• 28:50
  Speaker 1: why did I save her? She had a right to
• 28:52
  Speaker 1: choose death. Then he laughed low and said aloud, but
• 28:56
  Speaker 1: it is she who has saved me. And here I
• 28:59
  Speaker 1: am with a half dead woman I have pulled out
• 29:01
  Speaker 1: of the water with no more thought than a dog
• 29:04
  Speaker 1: gives to the stick he fetches. As he thus murmured,
• 29:08
  Speaker 1: he did not cease from his efforts. After a little
• 29:11
  Speaker 1: disturbed his failure, he remembered what he must do. He
• 29:15
  Speaker 1: set his mouth to hers and breathed into her the
• 29:17
  Speaker 1: breath of life. A strange joy came to him as
• 29:21
  Speaker 1: he knew that her bosom moved and she drew breath
• 29:24
  Speaker 1: after breath. He sat beside her, rubbing her hands, not
• 29:27
  Speaker 1: knowing what more to do. Again and again she moved,
• 29:31
  Speaker 1: and at last the hand he held closed feebly on his.
• 29:36
  Speaker 1: Although the woman was still but half alive, the weak
• 29:39
  Speaker 1: grasp was like an appeal, and the man knew that
• 29:42
  Speaker 1: he had here a thing to care for and desist
• 29:46
  Speaker 1: a woman, another woman. Suddenly, through the deep darkness of
• 29:51
  Speaker 1: the night, he heard her say where am i? He
• 29:56
  Speaker 1: rose in haste, murmuring, my God, it is my wife.
• 30:01
  Speaker 1: He turned to leave her, but could not. Then, as
• 30:04
  Speaker 1: she seemed less conscious, he began again to chafe her limbs.
• 30:08
  Speaker 1: An hour went by while she muttered, wandering in her speech.
• 30:12
  Speaker 1: The man listened, still rubbing her limbs with slow mechanic action.
• 30:17
  Speaker 1: At last, she sat up of a sudden, and, seeing
• 30:19
  Speaker 1: nothing clearly, for the night was very dark, said what
• 30:23
  Speaker 1: is all this? Who are you? I'm Harry Stella. You
• 30:28
  Speaker 1: are safe. The woman rose to her knees with a
• 30:31
  Speaker 1: faint cry, and fell back into his arms, crying, but
• 30:35
  Speaker 1: I wanted to die. Oh, I did want to die.
• 30:39
  Speaker 1: You saved me. Why did you save me? I do
• 30:43
  Speaker 1: not know, but I know you tried to save an
• 30:47
  Speaker 1: unknown woman. Thank you for her, but oh not not
• 30:52
  Speaker 1: for me. He told her all the truth and of
• 30:56
  Speaker 1: his own will to die. Then she fell upon his
• 30:59
  Speaker 1: shoulder and cried out, I was dead and I am
• 31:02
  Speaker 1: alive again. Will you, Oh, will you not believe me? Harry?
• 31:08
  Speaker 1: Has one come from the dead. You must, you must, Yes,
• 31:13
  Speaker 1: I will believe you. I never did. They lied. I
• 31:19
  Speaker 1: believe you. Stilla, Let us go. I am cold. He
• 31:23
  Speaker 1: helped her to rise, and then, finding her too feeble
• 31:26
  Speaker 1: to walk, took her in his arms. See, he said,
• 31:30
  Speaker 1: the moon is out. There is light light end of
• 31:37
  Speaker 1: section six Section seven of Little Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell.
• 31:49
  Speaker 1: This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Read by
• 31:53
  Speaker 1: Ben Tucker, A Ghost of Glory. It was after dinner
• 32:01
  Speaker 1: and had just struck three bells. The ward room of
• 32:04
  Speaker 1: the Oregon was at its best. As I was not
• 32:07
  Speaker 1: a navy man, but only a guest. All the sea
• 32:09
  Speaker 1: tales were let loose on me. They had been well
• 32:12
  Speaker 1: salted through many voyages and perhaps through many centuries, but
• 32:16
  Speaker 1: were always accepted as fresh. At last there was a
• 32:19
  Speaker 1: long pause, and the third watch officer ceased to punctuate
• 32:23
  Speaker 1: the talk with twaying of the banjo. The doctor said,
• 32:27
  Speaker 1: isn't it your turn now, mister Smith? I said, yes,
• 32:31
  Speaker 1: I will tell you a short sea story no one
• 32:33
  Speaker 1: of you has ever heard. The first lieutenant said that
• 32:37
  Speaker 1: was incredible, and bets of cigars were freely offered, that
• 32:40
  Speaker 1: it would prove an old forecastle yarn. I took all
• 32:45
  Speaker 1: the bets and said, I hoped there would be no
• 32:47
  Speaker 1: musical accompaniment. Then some one took away the third watch
• 32:50
  Speaker 1: officer's instrument of torture, and I told my story. In
• 32:56
  Speaker 1: eighteen sixty four, I was sent by our government to
• 32:59
  Speaker 1: Great Britain on a certain legal errand which has no
• 33:03
  Speaker 1: connection with my tail. Having got through the tedious business,
• 33:07
  Speaker 1: I wandered about England, and at last went to Scotland,
• 33:10
  Speaker 1: where certain matters on the Clyde interested our people. For
• 33:14
  Speaker 1: the purpose of hearing how the lower classes felt about
• 33:16
  Speaker 1: our civil war. I used to go of an evening
• 33:19
  Speaker 1: in the inns in Glasgow, where sailors collect and take
• 33:23
  Speaker 1: a pipe and a mug of ale. One night I
• 33:26
  Speaker 1: fell in with a hairy old sea dog, just come ashore.
• 33:29
  Speaker 1: A glass or two set him talking. After a while
• 33:33
  Speaker 1: he asked me if I believed in ghost ships. I
• 33:36
  Speaker 1: replied that of course I did. If we had ghosts
• 33:39
  Speaker 1: on shore, why not on the sea. Well, he said
• 33:43
  Speaker 1: a few it. I sat, no, I wouldn't have went on.
• 33:47
  Speaker 1: He did go on, And this is what my sailorman said.
• 33:52
  Speaker 1: I was in a collier last week. That was June
• 33:55
  Speaker 1: the nineteenth runnin up the coast. We were about eight
• 33:59
  Speaker 1: miles off Lamborough Head, a Sunday mornin' it was, and
• 34:03
  Speaker 1: just struck seven bells. It was raining solid and blowing
• 34:07
  Speaker 1: a gale. Hadn't no reefs in the wind nothing. I
• 34:12
  Speaker 1: was on the bow looking out ahead. On a sudden
• 34:15
  Speaker 1: the rain let up a bit, and there on the
• 34:17
  Speaker 1: port bow playing as this pipe was the darnedest lookin'
• 34:21
  Speaker 1: ship I ever seed. She was all a rock and
• 34:24
  Speaker 1: half covered with seaweed. Her stays was half gone, and
• 34:28
  Speaker 1: sails tore and ropes hanging about. I sung out to
• 34:32
  Speaker 1: the mate to come quick, and he'd come on. The
• 34:35
  Speaker 1: Master and me all three cedar. At first the mate
• 34:39
  Speaker 1: said she was a derelict. There was no one on deck,
• 34:42
  Speaker 1: and she was having pretty much her own way. Might
• 34:46
  Speaker 1: have been a quarter mile away or less. Anyway, she
• 34:49
  Speaker 1: was plain to be seen. The mate looked at her
• 34:51
  Speaker 1: with the glass, and he said she had guns on deck,
• 34:55
  Speaker 1: and was a kind of old time lookin' worship. The
• 34:58
  Speaker 1: queerest of all was she had a flag at her mizzin'.
• 35:01
  Speaker 1: I saw it easy. It was like that damned Yankee rag,
• 35:05
  Speaker 1: but didn't have so many stars. Just as the rain
• 35:08
  Speaker 1: was a thickenin'. Now, don't say I'm a liar, because
• 35:10
  Speaker 1: I'm not. I gave that man my entire trust, and
• 35:14
  Speaker 1: I said as much. Well. Just as she was gettin dimmer,
• 35:18
  Speaker 1: she began to let go of them guns. My gosh,
• 35:21
  Speaker 1: says the mate, And save my heart. But we counted
• 35:24
  Speaker 1: thirteen guns, one after another, and no time lost. Then
• 35:28
  Speaker 1: the master he said he'd had enough and too much,
• 35:31
  Speaker 1: and we went about. We didn't see her no more.
• 35:34
  Speaker 1: I suppose you don't think I saw that ship. I
• 35:37
  Speaker 1: wasn't in liquor, nor the mate another. And you heard
• 35:41
  Speaker 1: the guns. I did an them guns was heard ashore too,
• 35:46
  Speaker 1: I know two men and a preacher heard him. After that,
• 35:50
  Speaker 1: my sailorman went away. I think the evidence good because
• 35:53
  Speaker 1: the man who saw the ship did not take it
• 35:55
  Speaker 1: for anything except a strange sea sight, and because he
• 35:59
  Speaker 1: could not have invent to just that number of guns
• 36:01
  Speaker 1: as fired. When I had told my tale, the first
• 36:04
  Speaker 1: lieutenant said, that is a fine yarn, but what the
• 36:08
  Speaker 1: deuce had the thirteen guns to do with it? Some
• 36:12
  Speaker 1: of the others smiled, and the doctor said it was
• 36:14
  Speaker 1: not very plain to him, such stories were common enough.
• 36:17
  Speaker 1: The third watch officer, who writes sea songs and sonnets, said,
• 36:22
  Speaker 1: I don't think one of you got on to it.
• 36:24
  Speaker 1: Why that ship was the bonom Richard, Yes, said I,
• 36:29
  Speaker 1: and log this too, you unimaginative sea dogs. The Kirsar
• 36:33
  Speaker 1: sank the Alabama off Cherbourg that Sunday morning at what
• 36:37
  Speaker 1: you call seven bells. They agreed that it was a
• 36:41
  Speaker 1: first class sea story, and we were told of two
• 36:44
  Speaker 1: other ghost ships, until at last the old engineer, who
• 36:47
  Speaker 1: had retired into his beard and such a column of
• 36:50
  Speaker 1: smoke as went before the Hebrews, remarked, it's good, and
• 36:54
  Speaker 1: it's true, but it's only half new. Mister Smith has
• 36:58
  Speaker 1: lost his cigars. I asked for proof, and the officer replied,
• 37:03
  Speaker 1: here it is Tom Bushby, or old quartermaster on the Hartford.
• 37:08
  Speaker 1: He's laid by now at the Naval Home. Tom told
• 37:11
  Speaker 1: me in eighteen fifties and in nineteen twelve he was
• 37:13
  Speaker 1: a boy on the privateer Rattlesnake. They were before the
• 37:18
  Speaker 1: wind and off that very same Flamberois head. It was
• 37:21
  Speaker 1: seven o'clock in the evening on the nineteenth day of August.
• 37:24
  Speaker 1: There was no fog, as they were in hostiles seas.
• 37:28
  Speaker 1: The lookout was smart. The same ship was seen a
• 37:31
  Speaker 1: mile away. She fired her thirteen guns too. He said.
• 37:34
  Speaker 1: They'd tacked to get a clearer sight of her, but
• 37:37
  Speaker 1: somehow she was gone. Tom said, she just settled down
• 37:40
  Speaker 1: and sank quietly under the smoke of her guns, with
• 37:43
  Speaker 1: that same old flag flying. Well, what, then, said the
• 37:48
  Speaker 1: first lieutenant. Then why just at that hour and on
• 37:52
  Speaker 1: that day the Constitution disposed of the guiery air that's lost,
• 37:57
  Speaker 1: mister Smith, said the doctor. The first lieutenant remarked skeptically
• 38:02
  Speaker 1: that he would like to know whether in that last
• 38:04
  Speaker 1: yarn there was any time allowance for difference in longitude,
• 38:08
  Speaker 1: As the capture of the Guerriere took place off the
• 38:11
  Speaker 1: coast of Nova Scotia. Oh don't, said the gentleman who
• 38:15
  Speaker 1: made verses. You don't believe in anything? Yes, by Jove,
• 38:19
  Speaker 1: I do, And what sir, trot out your creed. You
• 38:22
  Speaker 1: don't own any one belief that isn't foggy with doubt?
• 38:25
  Speaker 1: What do you believe? We'll believe in the flag and
• 38:29
  Speaker 1: in rapid fire guns? Good, said I. Let's turn in
• 38:35
  Speaker 1: and it struck four bells. End of section seven Section
• 38:48
  Speaker 1: eight of Little Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell. This LibriVox
• 38:53
  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker.
• 38:58
  Speaker 1: The Wise Man's Sack. At noon prayer on a Friday
• 39:03
  Speaker 1: in Ramazan, the caliph looked from the Maksurah and saw
• 39:08
  Speaker 1: the Kateb exhorting the many who were poor sat by
• 39:11
  Speaker 1: reason of death, and who daily went to and fro
• 39:15
  Speaker 1: from the house of weeping to the grave of loss,
• 39:19
  Speaker 1: and found neither peace in one nor forgetfulness in the other.
• 39:23
  Speaker 1: At last, seeing that none shed their sorrows or sought comfort,
• 39:27
  Speaker 1: but still slept on the bed of grief and watered
• 39:29
  Speaker 1: the pillows of lamentation, the Koteb descended from his seat
• 39:34
  Speaker 1: and sat himself by the fountain in the court yard,
• 39:38
  Speaker 1: and one by one repeated the hundred sacred names, and
• 39:42
  Speaker 1: murmured the words light on the tongues of men, and
• 39:46
  Speaker 1: heavy in the balance of God. Then came one a
• 39:50
  Speaker 1: teller of tales, and the son of a teller of tales,
• 39:54
  Speaker 1: and the father of all such as listen to a
• 39:56
  Speaker 1: tale and love it. And as the koteb murmured and mumbled,
• 40:00
  Speaker 1: the teller of tales lifted his voice to the faithful
• 40:03
  Speaker 1: and said, Once in a strange land, a king took
• 40:07
  Speaker 1: a city, and, meaning to destroy it, bade each dweller
• 40:11
  Speaker 1: therein to carry away with him what most he valued.
• 40:15
  Speaker 1: Some took gold and some food, but one a great sack.
• 40:21
  Speaker 1: Said the king, what is that you carry? And the
• 40:24
  Speaker 1: man replied, it is full of laughter. To him returned
• 40:28
  Speaker 1: to the king, you are wise, I have forgotten how
• 40:31
  Speaker 1: to laugh. Divide with me whereon, said the man Allah
• 40:35
  Speaker 1: teith a charity. Take what you will. And the king
• 40:39
  Speaker 1: took and grew gay with the wine of mirth, and said,
• 40:43
  Speaker 1: this shall ransom the city. As for him who bore
• 40:47
  Speaker 1: the sack, he made him lord over all who cannot smile.
• 40:53
  Speaker 1: Such as heard the story removed to merriment and forgot
• 40:56
  Speaker 1: to weep. But the saint cried, when death taketh thy city,
• 41:01
  Speaker 1: canst thou carry away a sack of laughter? I know not,
• 41:07
  Speaker 1: said the teller of tales. Allah, who maketh all, is
• 41:11
  Speaker 1: maker of mirth as of grief. Some say who winds laughs,
• 41:15
  Speaker 1: but I who laughs wins. Therefore, let us fill our
• 41:20
  Speaker 1: mule bags with laughter and our camel bags with mirth,
• 41:24
  Speaker 1: and wait for the king to destroy this city of Earth.
• 41:30
  Speaker 1: End of section eight Section nine of Little Stories by
• 41:40
  Speaker 1: Silas Weir Mitchell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
• 41:46
  Speaker 1: Read by Ben Tucker. A dilemma. I was just thirty
• 41:52
  Speaker 1: seven when my uncle Philip died. A week before that event,
• 41:56
  Speaker 1: he sent for me, and here let me say that
• 41:59
  Speaker 1: I had never set eyes on him. He hated my mother,
• 42:02
  Speaker 1: but I do not know why. She told me, long
• 42:05
  Speaker 1: before his last illness, that I need expect nothing from
• 42:08
  Speaker 1: my father's brother. He was an inventor, an able and
• 42:12
  Speaker 1: ingenious mechanical engineer, and had made much money by his
• 42:16
  Speaker 1: improvement in turbine wheels. He was a bachelor, lived alone,
• 42:21
  Speaker 1: cooked his own meals, and collected precious stones, especially rubies,
• 42:25
  Speaker 1: and pearls. From the time he made his first money,
• 42:29
  Speaker 1: he had this mania. As he grew richer, the desire
• 42:33
  Speaker 1: to possess rare and costly gems became stronger. When he
• 42:38
  Speaker 1: bought a new stone, he carried it in his pocket
• 42:40
  Speaker 1: for a month and now, and then took it out
• 42:43
  Speaker 1: and looked at it. Then it was added to the
• 42:45
  Speaker 1: collection and his safe at the trust company. At the
• 42:49
  Speaker 1: time he sent for me, I was a clerk and
• 42:52
  Speaker 1: poor enough, remembering my mother's words. His message gave me
• 42:57
  Speaker 1: his sole relative no new hopes, but I thought it
• 43:00
  Speaker 1: best to go. When I sat down by his bedside,
• 43:04
  Speaker 1: he began with a malicious grin. I suppose you think
• 43:08
  Speaker 1: me queer. I will explain what he said was certainly
• 43:13
  Speaker 1: queer enough. I've been living on an annuity into which
• 43:17
  Speaker 1: I put my fortune. In other words, I've been as
• 43:21
  Speaker 1: to money concentric half of my life to enable me
• 43:25
  Speaker 1: to be as eccentric as I pleased the rest of it.
• 43:29
  Speaker 1: Now I repent of my wickedness to you all, and
• 43:32
  Speaker 1: desire to live in the memory of at least one
• 43:36
  Speaker 1: of my family. You think I am poor and have
• 43:39
  Speaker 1: only my annuity, you will be profitably surprised. I have
• 43:45
  Speaker 1: never parted with my precious stones. They will be yours.
• 43:50
  Speaker 1: You are my sole heir. I shall carry with me
• 43:53
  Speaker 1: to the other world the satisfaction of making one man happy.
• 43:58
  Speaker 1: No doubt, you have all always had expectations, and I
• 44:03
  Speaker 1: desire that you should continue to expect. My jewels are
• 44:07
  Speaker 1: in my safe. There is nothing else left. When I
• 44:12
  Speaker 1: thanked him, he grinned all over his lean face and said,
• 44:16
  Speaker 1: you will have to pay for my funeral. I must
• 44:20
  Speaker 1: say that I never looked forward to any expenditure with
• 44:23
  Speaker 1: more pleasure than to what it would cost me to
• 44:26
  Speaker 1: put him away in the earth. As I rose to go,
• 44:30
  Speaker 1: he said, the rubies are valuable. They are in my
• 44:34
  Speaker 1: safe at the trust company. Before you unlock the box,
• 44:38
  Speaker 1: be very careful to read a letter which lies on
• 44:40
  Speaker 1: top of it, and be sure not to shake the box.
• 44:46
  Speaker 1: I thought, this odd, don't come back. It won't hasten things.
• 44:52
  Speaker 1: He died that day week and was handsomely buried the
• 44:56
  Speaker 1: day after his will was found, leaving me his heir.
• 45:00
  Speaker 1: I opened his safe and found in it nothing but
• 45:02
  Speaker 1: an iron box, evidently of his own making, for he
• 45:06
  Speaker 1: was a skilled workman and very ingenious The box was
• 45:10
  Speaker 1: heavy and strong, about ten inches long, eight inches wide,
• 45:13
  Speaker 1: and ten inches high. On it lay a letter to me.
• 45:17
  Speaker 1: It ran thus, Dear Tom, this box contains a large
• 45:23
  Speaker 1: number of very fine pigeon blood rubies, and a fair
• 45:27
  Speaker 1: lot of diamonds. One is blue, a beauty. There are
• 45:32
  Speaker 1: hundreds of pearls, one the famous green pearl, and a
• 45:36
  Speaker 1: necklace of blue pearls for which any woman would sell
• 45:40
  Speaker 1: her soul or her affections. I thought of Susan. I
• 45:46
  Speaker 1: wish you to continue to have expectations and continuously to
• 45:51
  Speaker 1: remember your dear uncle. I would have left these stones
• 45:55
  Speaker 1: to some charity, but I hate the poor as much
• 45:57
  Speaker 1: as I hate your mother's son. Yes, rather more. The
• 46:03
  Speaker 1: box contains an interesting mechanism which will act with certainty
• 46:08
  Speaker 1: as you will unlock it and explode ten ounces of
• 46:12
  Speaker 1: my improved super sensitive dynamite. No, to be accurate, there
• 46:17
  Speaker 1: are only nine and a half ounces. Doubt me and
• 46:20
  Speaker 1: open it and you will be blown to atoms. Believe me,
• 46:25
  Speaker 1: and you will continue to nourish expectations which will never
• 46:30
  Speaker 1: be fulfilled. As a considered man, I counsel extreme care
• 46:35
  Speaker 1: in handling the box. Don't forget your affectionate uncle. I
• 46:42
  Speaker 1: stood appalled the key in my hand. Was it true?
• 46:47
  Speaker 1: Was it a lie? I'd spent all my savings on
• 46:50
  Speaker 1: the funeral, and was poorer than ever. Remembering the old
• 46:54
  Speaker 1: man's oddity, his malice, his cleverness and mechanic arts, and
• 46:58
  Speaker 1: the patent explosive which it helped to make him rich,
• 47:02
  Speaker 1: I began to feel how very likely it was that
• 47:04
  Speaker 1: he had told the truth in this cruel letter. I
• 47:07
  Speaker 1: carried the iron box away to my lodgings, set it
• 47:10
  Speaker 1: down with care in a closet, laid the key on it,
• 47:14
  Speaker 1: and locked the closet. Then I sat down, as yet hopeful,
• 47:18
  Speaker 1: and began to exert my ingenuity upon ways of opening
• 47:21
  Speaker 1: the box without being killed. There must be a way.
• 47:26
  Speaker 1: After a week of vain thinking, I bethought me one
• 47:29
  Speaker 1: day that it would be easy to explode the box
• 47:32
  Speaker 1: by unlocking it at a safe distance, And I arranged
• 47:35
  Speaker 1: a plan with wires, which seemed as if it would answer.
• 47:39
  Speaker 1: But when I reflected on what would happen when the
• 47:41
  Speaker 1: dynamite scattered the rubies, I knew that I should be
• 47:44
  Speaker 1: none the wretcher. For hours at a time, I sat
• 47:47
  Speaker 1: looking at that box and handling the key. At last
• 47:51
  Speaker 1: I hung the key on my watch guard. But then
• 47:54
  Speaker 1: it occurred to me that it might be lost or stolen.
• 47:58
  Speaker 1: Dreading this, I hid it, fearful that some one might
• 48:01
  Speaker 1: use it to open the box. This state of doubt
• 48:04
  Speaker 1: and fear lasted for weeks, until I became nervous and
• 48:08
  Speaker 1: began to dread that some accident might happen to that box.
• 48:12
  Speaker 1: A burglar might come and boldly carry it away and
• 48:16
  Speaker 1: force it open, and find it was a wicked fraud
• 48:18
  Speaker 1: of my uncle's. Even the rumble and vibration caused by
• 48:22
  Speaker 1: the heavy vans in the street became at last a terror.
• 48:26
  Speaker 1: Worst of all, my salary was reduced, and I saw
• 48:29
  Speaker 1: that marriage was out of the question, and might despair.
• 48:33
  Speaker 1: A consulted professor Clinch about my dilemma and as to
• 48:36
  Speaker 1: some safe way of getting at the rubies. He said
• 48:39
  Speaker 1: that if my uncle had not lied, there was none
• 48:42
  Speaker 1: that would not ruin the stones, especially the pearls, but
• 48:46
  Speaker 1: that it was a silly tale and altogether incredible. I
• 48:50
  Speaker 1: offered him the biggest ruby if he wished to test
• 48:52
  Speaker 1: his opinion. He did not desire to do so. Doctor Schaff,
• 48:57
  Speaker 1: my uncle's doctor, believed the old man's left and added
• 49:01
  Speaker 1: a caution which was entirely useless, for by this time
• 49:04
  Speaker 1: I was afraid to be in the room with that
• 49:05
  Speaker 1: terrible box. At last, the doctor kindly warned me that
• 49:10
  Speaker 1: I was in danger of losing my mind with too
• 49:12
  Speaker 1: much thought about my rubies. In fact, I did nothing
• 49:16
  Speaker 1: else but contrive wild plans to get at them safely.
• 49:19
  Speaker 1: I spent all my spare hours at one of the
• 49:21
  Speaker 1: great libraries reading about dynamite. Indeed, I talked of it
• 49:25
  Speaker 1: until the library attendants, believing me a lunatic or a
• 49:29
  Speaker 1: dynamite fiend, declined to humor me and spoke to the police.
• 49:34
  Speaker 1: I suspect that for a while I was shadowed as
• 49:36
  Speaker 1: a suspicious and possibly criminal character. I gave up the libraries, and,
• 49:42
  Speaker 1: becoming more and more fearful, set my precious box on
• 49:46
  Speaker 1: a down pillow for fear of it being shaken. For
• 49:49
  Speaker 1: at this time, even the absurd possibility of its being
• 49:52
  Speaker 1: disturbed by an earthquake troubled me. I tried to calculate
• 49:56
  Speaker 1: the amount of shake needful to explode my box. The
• 50:01
  Speaker 1: old doctor, when I saw him again, begged me to
• 50:03
  Speaker 1: give up all thought of the matter, And as I
• 50:06
  Speaker 1: felt how completely I was the slave of one despotic idea,
• 50:10
  Speaker 1: I tried to take the good advice thus given me. Unhappily,
• 50:14
  Speaker 1: I found soon after between the leaves of my uncle's
• 50:16
  Speaker 1: bible a numbered list of the stones, with their cost
• 50:20
  Speaker 1: and much beside. It was dated two years before my
• 50:25
  Speaker 1: uncle's death. Many of the stones were well known, and
• 50:29
  Speaker 1: their enormous value amazed me. Several of the rubies were
• 50:32
  Speaker 1: described with care, and curious histories of them were given
• 50:35
  Speaker 1: in detail. One was said to be the famous sunset ruby,
• 50:39
  Speaker 1: which had belonged to the Empress Queen Maria Theresa. One
• 50:43
  Speaker 1: was called the blood ruby, not as was explained, because
• 50:46
  Speaker 1: of the color, but on account of the murders it
• 50:48
  Speaker 1: had occasioned. Now, as I read, it seemed again to
• 50:52
  Speaker 1: threaten death. The pearls were described with care as an
• 50:55
  Speaker 1: unequal to collection. Concerning two of them, my uncle had
• 50:58
  Speaker 1: written what I might call byographies, for indeed they seemed
• 51:02
  Speaker 1: to have done much evil and some good. One, a
• 51:05
  Speaker 1: black pearl, was mentioned in an old bill of sale
• 51:08
  Speaker 1: as she which seemed queer to me. It was maddening. Here,
• 51:14
  Speaker 1: guarded by a vision of sudden death, was wealth beyond
• 51:17
  Speaker 1: the dreams of Avarice. I am not a clever or
• 51:21
  Speaker 1: ingenious man. I know little beyond how to keep a ledger,
• 51:25
  Speaker 1: And so I was and am no doubt absurd about
• 51:29
  Speaker 1: many of my notions as to how to solve this riddle.
• 51:32
  Speaker 1: At one time I thought of finding a man who
• 51:34
  Speaker 1: would take the risk of unlocking the box. But what
• 51:38
  Speaker 1: right had I to subject any one else to the
• 51:41
  Speaker 1: trial I dared not face. I could easily drop the
• 51:44
  Speaker 1: box from a height somewhere, and if it did not explode,
• 51:47
  Speaker 1: could then safely unlock it. But if it did blow
• 51:51
  Speaker 1: up when it fell, goodbye to my rubies mine. Indeed,
• 51:55
  Speaker 1: I was rich, and I was not. I grew thin
• 51:59
  Speaker 1: and morbid, so miserable that, being a good Catholic, I
• 52:03
  Speaker 1: at last carried my troubles to my father confessor. He
• 52:07
  Speaker 1: thought it simply a cruel jest of my uncle's, but
• 52:10
  Speaker 1: was not so eager for another world as to be
• 52:12
  Speaker 1: willing to open my box. He too, counseled me to
• 52:16
  Speaker 1: cease thinking about it. Good Heavens, I dreamed about it.
• 52:22
  Speaker 1: Not to think about it was impossible. Neither my own thought,
• 52:26
  Speaker 1: nor science, nor religion had been able to assist me.
• 52:31
  Speaker 1: Two years have gone by, and I am one of
• 52:34
  Speaker 1: the richest men in the city and have no more
• 52:38
  Speaker 1: money than will keep me alive. Susan said, I was
• 52:42
  Speaker 1: half cracked like Uncle Philip, and broke off her engagement.
• 52:46
  Speaker 1: In my despair, I have advertised in the Journal of Science,
• 52:50
  Speaker 1: and have had absurd schemes sent me by the dozen.
• 52:53
  Speaker 1: At last, as I talked too much about it, the
• 52:56
  Speaker 1: thing became so well known that when I put the
• 52:58
  Speaker 1: horror in a safe in bank, I was promptly desired
• 53:02
  Speaker 1: to withdraw it. I was in constant fear of burglars,
• 53:06
  Speaker 1: and my landlady gave me notice to leave because no
• 53:08
  Speaker 1: one would stay in the house with that box. I
• 53:11
  Speaker 1: am now advised to print my story and await advice
• 53:14
  Speaker 1: from the ingenuity of the American mind. I have moved
• 53:18
  Speaker 1: into the suburbs and hidden the box and changed my
• 53:21
  Speaker 1: name and my occupation. This I did to escape the
• 53:25
  Speaker 1: curiosity of the reporters. I ought to say that when
• 53:28
  Speaker 1: the government officials came to hear of my inheritance, they
• 53:32
  Speaker 1: very reasonably desired to collect the succession tax on my
• 53:35
  Speaker 1: uncle's estate. I was delighted to assist them. I told
• 53:39
  Speaker 1: the collector my story and showed him Uncle Philip's letter.
• 53:41
  Speaker 1: Then now offered him the key and asked for time
• 53:44
  Speaker 1: to get half a mile away. That man said he
• 53:46
  Speaker 1: would think it over and come back later. This is
• 53:50
  Speaker 1: all I have to say. I have made a will
• 53:52
  Speaker 1: and left my rubies and pearls to the Society for
• 53:55
  Speaker 1: the Prevention of human vivisection. If any man thinks this
• 53:59
  Speaker 1: account of Joe ok or an invention, let him coldly
• 54:01
  Speaker 1: imagine the situation given an iron box known to contain wealth,
• 54:08
  Speaker 1: said to contain dynamite, arranged to explode when the key
• 54:12
  Speaker 1: is used to unlock it. What would any sane man do?
• 54:17
  Speaker 1: What would he advise? End of section nine Section ten
• 54:29
  Speaker 1: of Little Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell. The LibriVox recordings
• 54:35
  Speaker 1: in the public Domain read by Ben Tucker. The Jewels
• 54:41
  Speaker 1: of Consistency. The dead of a graveyard sat in their
• 54:46
  Speaker 1: tombs for now. It was the feast of the malad,
• 54:51
  Speaker 1: when the dead are as alive and may walk the
• 54:53
  Speaker 1: earth for a night. And neither the angel moonkeere questions,
• 54:57
  Speaker 1: nor the angel neckhere forbids. But many missed their bones
• 55:03
  Speaker 1: and wailed with vain rattle of speech till one who
• 55:06
  Speaker 1: was a miser, with dry laughter spake, what need I
• 55:10
  Speaker 1: have to walk? Here be my bones to sell. Then
• 55:16
  Speaker 1: a woman gave for a leg bone a ring, and
• 55:19
  Speaker 1: another a filet of gold for a hand. And thus
• 55:23
  Speaker 1: there was soon left of him only a skull, and
• 55:26
  Speaker 1: to that skull some treasures. These others stumbled away rejoicing,
• 55:32
  Speaker 1: And as the muzzin sounded the first sunrise call to prayer,
• 55:36
  Speaker 1: clattered into their graves. But at morning came down from
• 55:41
  Speaker 1: the palms monkeys and took the miser's skull for a ball.
• 55:46
  Speaker 1: The gold and jewels a beggar found. And the Fakhir
• 55:49
  Speaker 1: and Sufi speaker of verse Farishta, who saw all this wonder, said,
• 55:56
  Speaker 1: as are the living, so are the dead end of
• 56:02
  Speaker 1: Section ten. Section eleven of Little Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell.
• 56:13
  Speaker 1: The LibriVox Recordings in the public Domain read by Ben Tucker.
• 56:19
  Speaker 1: Thou art the soul of thy house. Thou art the
• 56:24
  Speaker 1: soul of thy house, and he who, after thee inhabits it,
• 56:28
  Speaker 1: will know thee. Pavel Sinkovsky MPs. My friend Sucton is
• 56:37
  Speaker 1: a pH d in psychometry and believes that all things
• 56:40
  Speaker 1: created by man have souls and remember, and are what
• 56:45
  Speaker 1: he calls influential. It is sad nonsense, he believes in
• 56:50
  Speaker 1: lucky and unlucky houses, and in shops where the successive
• 56:54
  Speaker 1: owners always fail. He goes further and says that it
• 56:58
  Speaker 1: is morally dangerous to live in a house house where
• 57:00
  Speaker 1: a murderer has long dwelt, or in which a murder
• 57:03
  Speaker 1: has been done. My doctor says there is only one
• 57:06
  Speaker 1: kind of ghost, and that it lives unseen of any
• 57:10
  Speaker 1: in houses where certain kinds of diseases have killed men.
• 57:15
  Speaker 1: This idea captures my imagination through my reason, and does
• 57:19
  Speaker 1: appeal to me as to the other style of ghost.
• 57:23
  Speaker 1: I entirely disbelieve. My friend is hurt when I say
• 57:26
  Speaker 1: that ghosts must be rare, since there is no mention
• 57:30
  Speaker 1: of them in the last census. Nor off rattlesnakes, says Secton,
• 57:34
  Speaker 1: who dislikes trifling with the serious and does not see
• 57:37
  Speaker 1: the logical value of a jest, Nor why I grin
• 57:40
  Speaker 1: at his houses with influential memories. That doctor of mine
• 57:46
  Speaker 1: also smiles at Secton's queer notions and taps his forehead indicatively.
• 57:52
  Speaker 1: But then the doctor is a materialist, so extreme a mystic,
• 57:55
  Speaker 1: as Secton is more to my taste. I can readily
• 57:59
  Speaker 1: see why with that kind of a doctor my wife
• 58:02
  Speaker 1: remains neither well enough to be of use, nor ill
• 58:05
  Speaker 1: enough to be honestly pitied. He says, Bah a ghost.
• 58:10
  Speaker 1: I should put a thermometer under his tongue and soon
• 58:13
  Speaker 1: know where he came from. One night in June, when
• 58:17
  Speaker 1: my wife was away, Secton called at my house in
• 58:19
  Speaker 1: South Kensington and began at once on his hobby. I
• 58:23
  Speaker 1: smoked and listened mildly, amused. Secton is very persistent. He
• 58:28
  Speaker 1: suspects me of having a little leaven of love of
• 58:31
  Speaker 1: the mystical, which is true for most reflective men. He
• 58:35
  Speaker 1: said at last, I have often tested my own beliefs
• 58:39
  Speaker 1: as to houses. Will you submit your skepticism to a trial?
• 58:43
  Speaker 1: I replied that I would. He said, I have hired
• 58:47
  Speaker 1: a house for a week. I want you to sleep
• 58:49
  Speaker 1: there two nights. To be brief, he added, I make
• 58:52
  Speaker 1: no suggestive statement. I have furnished one room, the second
• 58:57
  Speaker 1: story back, occupy it two successive nights, and mind you,
• 59:00
  Speaker 1: it is not a question of ghosts. The next night
• 59:03
  Speaker 1: he called for me. We had a long drive and
• 59:06
  Speaker 1: a hansom to a suburban house near Saint John's Wood.
• 59:10
  Speaker 1: Here Secton gave me a key and left me at
• 59:12
  Speaker 1: the door. The dwelling was large and had a small
• 59:16
  Speaker 1: walled garden behind it. It was about eleven when I
• 59:19
  Speaker 1: lighted the candle I found in the hall on the floor.
• 59:21
  Speaker 1: For the house was, as he said, unfurnished. It smelt
• 59:26
  Speaker 1: close and musty. I walked through several rooms to a
• 59:29
  Speaker 1: little conservatory. I found nothing, unlike a multitude of others
• 59:33
  Speaker 1: so called villas. I went to my room, locked the door,
• 59:37
  Speaker 1: lighted three candles, set my shaving case and toilet affairs
• 59:41
  Speaker 1: on a chair for want of a table, and went
• 59:44
  Speaker 1: to bed. It is proof of my indifferent attitude of
• 59:48
  Speaker 1: mind that I slept well. I awoke early about six,
• 59:52
  Speaker 1: and to my surprise, felt a strange sense of depression,
• 59:56
  Speaker 1: a melancholy so convincing that I seemed of a sudden
• 59:59
  Speaker 1: to under stand how it was that men may desire
• 1:00:02
  Speaker 1: to die. I sat up with a feeling of horror
• 1:00:06
  Speaker 1: and of recoil, as from an abyss, I struck my repeater.
• 1:00:11
  Speaker 1: It was after six o'clock. As I looked about me
• 1:00:13
  Speaker 1: in the dim light, I saw my razor lying open
• 1:00:16
  Speaker 1: on the bed. It startled me. I was sure I
• 1:00:19
  Speaker 1: had left it on the chair. I got up and
• 1:00:23
  Speaker 1: walked about the room, and after a little began to
• 1:00:26
  Speaker 1: be more myself. As it was very warm, I opened
• 1:00:30
  Speaker 1: a window. When I turned toward the bed, the razor
• 1:00:33
  Speaker 1: closed was lying on the chair. I began to dislike
• 1:00:37
  Speaker 1: the adventure, and again to feel the cloud of melancholy
• 1:00:41
  Speaker 1: like a shroud about me. I dressed and went home,
• 1:00:45
  Speaker 1: and after breakfast was as usual. By nightfall I had
• 1:00:49
  Speaker 1: explained it all to my satisfaction, and reassured, went gaily
• 1:00:53
  Speaker 1: back to the house. Nothing unusual happened. I smoked a
• 1:00:57
  Speaker 1: cigar to red sleep compelling novel, and went to bed
• 1:01:02
  Speaker 1: at ten. I awoke twice in an hour, conscious each
• 1:01:05
  Speaker 1: time of fear, the product of dreams which at once
• 1:01:08
  Speaker 1: faded past recall. After this I was unable to sleep.
• 1:01:13
  Speaker 1: I was restless and uneasy. At last, I got up,
• 1:01:16
  Speaker 1: and in the darkness had abruptly a sense of alarm,
• 1:01:19
  Speaker 1: which was like a possession, that is, as of a thing,
• 1:01:22
  Speaker 1: a mood which owned me. I found a match and
• 1:01:25
  Speaker 1: lighted all my three candles. I was in a cold
• 1:01:28
  Speaker 1: sweat and afraid, with a fear a nightmare brings, and
• 1:01:33
  Speaker 1: with this terror I was also in a mood of
• 1:01:35
  Speaker 1: deep gloom. I dressed and went to a closet to
• 1:01:39
  Speaker 1: find the novel I had left on the shelf. I
• 1:01:42
  Speaker 1: was resolved to dismiss these sensations. As I took it,
• 1:01:46
  Speaker 1: I saw some empty vials and one which was half full.
• 1:01:51
  Speaker 1: I took it up and uncorked it and smelt it
• 1:01:54
  Speaker 1: to learn what it might be. It was Laudanum. I
• 1:01:58
  Speaker 1: staggered across the room with it in my hand, and
• 1:02:00
  Speaker 1: with an oath, threw it into the fireplace. I had
• 1:02:03
  Speaker 1: resisted the deadliest temptation life had ever set in my way.
• 1:02:08
  Speaker 1: I went slowly downstairs and must have been in a
• 1:02:10
  Speaker 1: queer condition, for I seemed to be moving with an
• 1:02:13
  Speaker 1: onerous use of will power. At last I was out
• 1:02:17
  Speaker 1: in the air and was at once relieved. After walking
• 1:02:21
  Speaker 1: about for hours, I reluctantly went back to the house
• 1:02:24
  Speaker 1: and up to my room. The fragments of the bottle
• 1:02:27
  Speaker 1: I had broken when I threw it on the hearth
• 1:02:29
  Speaker 1: were gone. As I stood in amazement looking about me,
• 1:02:33
  Speaker 1: I felt a slowly gathering renewal of the melancholy of
• 1:02:37
  Speaker 1: the night before. Was it all a dream or what?
• 1:02:42
  Speaker 1: My reason and my will power were affected by the
• 1:02:44
  Speaker 1: mood of the gloom, and by the desire the longing
• 1:02:48
  Speaker 1: to I would not say it, even to that confidant
• 1:02:52
  Speaker 1: in my own mind. I hastily put my toilet things
• 1:02:56
  Speaker 1: in a hand bag and went away to get at
• 1:02:58
  Speaker 1: home a bath and breakfast. The feeling of depression was
• 1:03:02
  Speaker 1: with me until evening, when I called on Secton and
• 1:03:07
  Speaker 1: made my statement. He asked if I were satisfied. I
• 1:03:11
  Speaker 1: replied that as to the razor, it must have been
• 1:03:13
  Speaker 1: a lapse of memory, and possibly Secton broke in. But
• 1:03:17
  Speaker 1: I say, and do you leave open razors on your
• 1:03:20
  Speaker 1: bed and forget them? Or do you mean me to
• 1:03:22
  Speaker 1: believe that it is a habit of yours to get
• 1:03:24
  Speaker 1: up in your sleep and shave yourself? But said I,
• 1:03:29
  Speaker 1: how else can I explain it? That is just the
• 1:03:33
  Speaker 1: question I can explain it? What about the laudanum? I
• 1:03:39
  Speaker 1: replied that I must have been, in some way the
• 1:03:41
  Speaker 1: fool of my own suggestive imagination. Well, said he, you
• 1:03:47
  Speaker 1: certainly reason very oddly, and so you remain unconvinced of
• 1:03:52
  Speaker 1: what am I to be convinced? I said nothing of
• 1:03:55
  Speaker 1: my melancholy mood, nor of the temptation I hated to
• 1:03:59
  Speaker 1: think of what was absolutely new and as surely very
• 1:04:03
  Speaker 1: humbling remembrance for a man as decisive as I. He
• 1:04:06
  Speaker 1: sneered as he returned, you wished to test the value
• 1:04:10
  Speaker 1: of my belief that houses have active memories and may effect,
• 1:04:14
  Speaker 1: as with a moral malary of those who live in them. Yes,
• 1:04:19
  Speaker 1: that is put fairly. What of that house? What does it? Remember?
• 1:04:24
  Speaker 1: I will tell you three persons have taken their lives
• 1:04:27
  Speaker 1: in that house. No one can live in it? Stop,
• 1:04:32
  Speaker 1: I said, Were they all of one family? Yes? That,
• 1:04:38
  Speaker 1: I urged seemed to me to lessen the value of
• 1:04:41
  Speaker 1: your test, does it? He said, for them, perhaps, but
• 1:04:46
  Speaker 1: not for you? Now be fair, I said, it required thought.
• 1:04:51
  Speaker 1: I think he knew that I had not been entirely frank,
• 1:04:55
  Speaker 1: For he asked if I would try another night in
• 1:04:57
  Speaker 1: the same house. I said no, upon which he replied, smiling,
• 1:05:03
  Speaker 1: I do not ask why I am satisfied Secton has
• 1:05:09
  Speaker 1: good manners. He might have made himself disagreeable. End of
• 1:05:17
  Speaker 1: section eleven, Section twelve of Little Stories by Silas Weir Mitchell.
• 1:05:28
  Speaker 1: This livervox recording is in the public domain read by
• 1:05:32
  Speaker 1: Ben Tucker, a step son of knowledge. Once at night,
• 1:05:39
  Speaker 1: the Caliph, having lost his way, said to one standing
• 1:05:42
  Speaker 1: where the roads divide, I have lost my way, cried
• 1:05:47
  Speaker 1: the stranger. How canst thou lose what thou hast never owned? Then,
• 1:05:53
  Speaker 1: seeing that he to whom he spake was ill at ease,
• 1:05:57
  Speaker 1: he added, be not dismayed. As is the pig, so
• 1:06:02
  Speaker 1: is the pearl. Allah hath made both. What one man loses,
• 1:06:07
  Speaker 1: another finds. Thy grandson may be fortunate, O dervish, quickener
• 1:06:14
  Speaker 1: of the soul, said Haraun, I have found in thy
• 1:06:18
  Speaker 1: mouth knowledge, but it does not help me to reach home,
• 1:06:22
  Speaker 1: For truly to ask and to get are not as one,
• 1:06:26
  Speaker 1: And kebobs of rubies fill not the empty belly. Thou
• 1:06:31
  Speaker 1: art wise with such wisdom as is feeble in the knees,
• 1:06:36
  Speaker 1: cried the stranger. Thou hast a vain desire to get
• 1:06:39
  Speaker 1: somewhere better? Is it never to arrive than to sit
• 1:06:44
  Speaker 1: on the throne of satisfaction in the bazaar of the philosophies?
• 1:06:50
  Speaker 1: Are no divans Alak, cried the Caliph. I am neither
• 1:06:55
  Speaker 1: a pig nor a pearl, and went his way. End
• 1:07:02
  Speaker 1: of section twelve, Section thirteen of Little Stories by Silas
• 1:07:13
  Speaker 1: Weir Mitchell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
• 1:07:18
  Speaker 1: Read by Ben Tucker, The Sins of the Fathers. James Carstairs,
• 1:07:26
  Speaker 1: just home from Africa, was smoking in the Traveler's Club
• 1:07:29
  Speaker 1: in London. He felt a hand on his shoulder and
• 1:07:33
  Speaker 1: rose to greet Captain Marston. An old comrade, said Marston,
• 1:07:38
  Speaker 1: I hope, jem, you're all right. Heard you brought home
• 1:07:42
  Speaker 1: a coast fever. Now I'm well. I've been up among
• 1:07:46
  Speaker 1: your friends, the Mandigoes. Well, I suppose you have lots
• 1:07:50
  Speaker 1: to tell us. By George, Yes, will it suit you
• 1:07:54
  Speaker 1: to have me dine with you to morrow? I will
• 1:07:56
  Speaker 1: bring my photos. I shall be glad to show them
• 1:07:59
  Speaker 1: to missus Mouton. They've come out well, yes, of course,
• 1:08:04
  Speaker 1: delighted to have you. Now I must go, I have
• 1:08:08
  Speaker 1: to meet a committee of the Geographical Society. I lived
• 1:08:11
  Speaker 1: with the Mandingoes six months ago. I think you were
• 1:08:13
  Speaker 1: there just twelve years ago. Yes, I suppose the infernal
• 1:08:17
  Speaker 1: man trade goes on, oh worse than ever. After I
• 1:08:22
  Speaker 1: left for the coast, the hunters raided the poor devils,
• 1:08:26
  Speaker 1: said Marston. I am sorry for that. They were kindly folk,
• 1:08:30
  Speaker 1: and the women not ill looking so so returned Carstairs.
• 1:08:36
  Speaker 1: I saw the lot of slaves later at Luanngo on
• 1:08:39
  Speaker 1: the coast, I bought off a half dozen and sent
• 1:08:42
  Speaker 1: them home. They were fellows who had been very useful
• 1:08:46
  Speaker 1: to me, And that was like you, Carstairs. Oh, by
• 1:08:51
  Speaker 1: the way, Marston. Among those I set free, there was
• 1:08:54
  Speaker 1: a lad about eleven or twelve, rather like colored, had
• 1:08:58
  Speaker 1: some white blood. I fancy I bought him too, because
• 1:09:01
  Speaker 1: he took an awful licking and never winced. You will laugh.
• 1:09:04
  Speaker 1: But my desire to buy him was increased because he
• 1:09:06
  Speaker 1: reminded me of you. Marton started of me, what do
• 1:09:11
  Speaker 1: you mean? Yes, he had a white lock of hair
• 1:09:15
  Speaker 1: over his left temple like yours. Queer, wasn't it, yes,
• 1:09:19
  Speaker 1: said Marston, unusual very but I know two people who
• 1:09:24
  Speaker 1: have it. Well. I never saw it before in a nigger. Oh,
• 1:09:28
  Speaker 1: by George, it is so jolly good to see you.
• 1:09:31
  Speaker 1: Or though almost forgot he looked up at the clock.
• 1:09:34
  Speaker 1: Good bye. It at to morrow more, you said, yes,
• 1:09:38
  Speaker 1: and eight we shall be alone. I will show you
• 1:09:42
  Speaker 1: my maps, and by the way, I have a photo
• 1:09:44
  Speaker 1: of the boy. He went away. Marston sat down and
• 1:09:50
  Speaker 1: for a half hour remained moveless, with his unlighted cigar
• 1:09:54
  Speaker 1: between his lips. Then he rose, went slowly downstairs, took
• 1:09:58
  Speaker 1: his hat in his top coat, and passed out into
• 1:10:01
  Speaker 1: the street. At the foot of the steps, he stood
• 1:10:04
  Speaker 1: still and said aloud, my god, that's awful. End of
• 1:10:12
  Speaker 1: section thirteen, End of Little Stories by Silas Ware Mitchell