The Parasite .........................................................................................................................................................1

Arthur Conan Doyle .................................................................................................................................1

March 24. The spring is fairly with us now. Outside my laboratory window the great chestnuttree is all

covered with the big, glutinous, gummy buds, some of which have already begun to break into little green

shuttlecocks. As you walk down the lanes you are conscious of the rich, silent forces of nature working all

around you. The wet earth smells fruitful and luscious. Green shoots are peeping out everywhere. The twigs

are stiff with their sap; and the moist, heavy English air is laden with a faintly resinous perfume. Buds in the

I can see it without, and I can feel it within. We also have our spring when the little arterioles dilate, the

lymph flows in a brisker stream, the glands work harder, winnowing and straining. Every year nature

readjusts the whole machine. I can feel the ferment in my blood at this very moment, and as the cool sunshine

pours through my window I could dance about in it like a gnat. So I should, only that Charles Sadler would

rush upstairs to know what was the matter. Besides, I must remember that I am Professor Gilroy. An old

professor may afford to be natural, but when fortune has given one of the first chairs in the university to a

What a fellow Wilson is! If I could only throw the same enthusiasm into physiology that he does into

psychology, I should become a Claude Bernard at the least. His whole life and soul and energy work to one

end. He drops to sleep collating his results of the past day, and he wakes to plan his researches for the coming

one. And yet, outside the narrow circle who follow his proceedings, he gets so little credit for it. Physiology

is a recognized science. If I add even a brick to the edifice, every one sees and applauds it. But Wilson is

trying to dig the foundations for a science of the future. His work is underground and does not show. Yet he

goes on uncomplainingly, corresponding with a hundred semimaniacs in the hope of finding one reliable

witness, sifting a hundred lies on the chance of gaining one little speck of truth, collating old books,

devouring new ones, experimenting, lecturing, trying to light up in others the fiery interest which is

consuming him. I am filled with wonder and admiration when I think of him, and yet, when he asks me to

associate myself with his researches, I am compelled to tell him that, in their present state, they offer little

attraction to a man who is devoted to exact science. If he could show me something positive and objective, I

might then be tempted to approach the question from its physiological side. So long as half his subjects are

tainted with charlatanerie and the other half with hysteria we physiologists must content ourselves with the

No doubt I am a materialist. Agatha says that I am a rank one. I tell her that is an excellent reason for

shortening our engagement, since I am in such urgent need of her spirituality. And yet I may claim to be a

curious example of the effect of education upon temperament, for by nature I am, unless I deceive myself, a

highly psychic man. I was a nervous, sensitive boy, a dreamer, a somnambulist, full of impressions and

intuitions. My black hair, my dark eyes, my thin, olive face, my tapering fingers, are all characteristic of my

real temperament, and cause experts like Wilson to claim me as their own. But my brain is soaked with exact

knowledge. I have trained myself to deal only with fact and with proof. Surmise and fancy have no place in

my scheme of thought. Show me what I can see with my microscope, cut with my scalpel, weigh in my

balance, and I will devote a lifetime to its investigation. But when you ask me to study feelings, impressions,

suggestions, you ask me to do what is distasteful and even demoralizing. A departure from pure reason

Which is a very sufficient reason why I am a little loath to go to Professor Wilson's tonight. Still I feel that I

could hardly get out of the invitation without positive rudeness; and, now that Mrs. Marden and Agatha are

going, of course I would not if I could. But I had rather meet them anywhere else. I know that Wilson would

draw me into this nebulous semiscience of his if he could. In his enthusiasm he is perfectly impervious to

hints or remonstrances. Nothing short of a positive quarrel will make him realize my aversion to the whole

business. I have no doubt that he has some new mesmerist or clairvoyant or medium or trickster of some sort

whom he is going to exhibit to us, for even his entertainments bear upon his hobby. Well, it will be a treat for

Agatha, at any rate. She is interested in it, as woman usually is in whatever is vague and mystical and

10.50 P. M. This diarykeeping of mine is, I fancy, the outcome of that scientific habit of mind about which I

wrote this morning. I like to register impressions while they are fresh. Once a day at least I endeavor to define

my own mental position. It is a useful piece of selfanalysis, and has, I fancy, a steadying effect upon the

character. Frankly, I must confess that my own needs what stiffening I can give it. I fear that, after all, much

of my neurotic temperament survives, and that I am far from that cool, calm precision which characterizes

Murdoch or Pratt Haldane. Otherwise, why should the tomfoolery which I have witnessed this evening have

set my nerves thrilling so that even now I am all unstrung? My only comfort is that neither Wilson nor Miss

And what in the world was there to excite me? Nothing, or so little that it will seem ludicrous when I set it

The Mardens got to Wilson's before me. In fact, I was one of the last to arrive and found the room crowded. I

had hardly time to say a word to Mrs. Marden and to Agatha, who was looking charming in white and pink,

"You want something positive, Gilroy," said he, drawing me apart into a corner. "My dear fellow, I have a

I should have been more impressed had I not heard the same before. His sanguine spirit turns every firefly

"No possible question about the bona fides this time," said he, in answer, perhaps, to some little gleam of

amusement in my eyes. "My wife has known her for many years. They both come from Trinidad, you know.

Miss Penclosa has only been in England a month or two, and knows no one outside the university circle, but I

assure you that the things she has told us suffice in themselves to establish clairvoyance upon an absolutely

scientific basis. There is nothing like her, amateur or professional. Come and be introduced!"

I like none of these mysterymongers, but the amateur least of all. With the paid performer you may pounce

upon him and expose him the instant that you have seen through his trick. He is there to deceive you, and you

are there to find him out. But what are you to do with the friend of your host's wife? Are you to turn on a light

suddenly and expose her slapping a surreptitious banjo? Or are you to hurl cochineal over her evening frock

when she steals round with her phosphorus bottle and her supernatural platitude? There would he a scene, and

you would be looked upon as a brute. So you have your choice of being that or a dupe. I was in no very good

Any one less like my idea of a West Indian could not be imagined. She was a small, frail creature, well over

forty, I should say, with a pale, peaky face, and hair of a very light shade of chestnut. Her presence was

insignificant and her manner retiring. In any group of ten women she would have been the last whom one

would have picked out. Her eyes were perhaps her most remarkable, and also, I am compelled to say, her

least pleasant, feature. They were gray in color,gray with a shade of green,and their expression struck

me as being decidedly furtive. I wonder if furtive is the word, or should I have said fierce? On second

thoughts, feline would have expressed it better. A crutch leaning against the wall told me what was painfully

So I was introduced to Miss Penclosa, and it did not escape me that as my name was mentioned she glanced

across at Agatha. Wilson had evidently been talking. And presently, no doubt, thought I, she will inform me

by occult means that I am engaged to a young lady with wheatears in her hair. I wondered how much more

"Professor Gilroy is a terrible sceptic," said he; "I hope, Miss Penclosa, that you will be able to convert him."

"Professor Gilroy is quite right to be sceptical if he has not seen any thing convincing," said she. "I should

have thought," she added, "that you would yourself have been an excellent subject."

"My experience has been that mesmerists go for their subjects to those who are mentally unsound. All their

results are vitiated, as it seems to me, by the fact that they are dealing with abnormal organisms."

"Which of these ladies would you say possessed a normal organism?" she asked. "I should like you to select

the one who seems to you to have the best balanced mind. Should we say the girl in pink and white?Miss

"I have never tried how far she is impressionable. Of course some people respond much more rapidly than

others. May I ask how far your scepticism extends? I suppose that you admit the mesmeric sleep and the

"Dear me, I thought science had got further than that. Of course I know nothing about the scientific side of it.

I only know what I can do. You see the girl in red, for example, over near the Japanese jar. I shall will that

She bent forward as she spoke and dropped her fan upon the floor. The girl whisked round and came straight

I did not dare to tell him what I thought of it. To me it was the most barefaced, shameless piece of imposture

that I had ever witnessed. The collusion and the signal had really been too obvious.

"Professor Gilroy is not satisfied," said she, glancing up at me with her strange little eyes. "My poor fan is to

get the credit of that experiment. Well, we must try something else. Miss Marden, would you have any

By this time all the company had gathered round us in a circle, the shirtfronted men, and the whitethroated

women, some awed, some critical, as though it were something between a religious ceremony and a

conjurer's entertainment. A red velvet armchair had been pushed into the centre, and Agatha lay back in it, a

little flushed and trembling slightly from excitement. I could see it from the vibration of the wheatears. Miss

And there was a change in the woman. She no longer seemed small or insignificant. Twenty years were gone

from her age. Her eyes were shining, a tinge of color had come into her sallow cheeks, her whole figure had

expanded. So I have seen a dulleyed, listless lad change in an instant into briskness and life when given a

task of which he felt himself master. She looked down at Agatha with an expression which I resented from

the bottom of my soulthe expression with which a Roman empress might have looked at her kneeling

slave. Then with a quick, commanding gesture she tossed up her arms and swept them slowly down in front

I was watching Agatha narrowly. During three passes she seemed to be simply amused. At the fourth I

observed a slight glazing of her eyes, accompanied by some dilation of her pupils. At the sixth there was a

momentary rigor. At the seventh her lids began to droop. At the tenth her eyes were closed, and her breathing

was slower and fuller than usual. I tried as I watched to preserve my scientific calm, but a foolish, causeless

agitation convulsed me. I trust that I hid it, but I felt as a child feels in the dark. I could not have believed that

I pulled her by the arm and shouted in her ear. She might have been dead for all the impression that I could

make. Her body was there on the velvet chair. Her organs were actingher heart, her lungs. But her soul! It

had slipped from beyond our ken. Whither had it gone? What power had dispossessed it? I was puzzled and

"So much for the mesmeric sleep," said Miss Penclosa. "As regards suggestion, whatever I may suggest Miss

Marden will infallibly do, whether it be now or after she has awakened from her trance. Do you demand

"You shall have it." I saw a smile pass over her face, as though an amusing thought had struck her. She

stooped and whispered earnestly into her subject's ear. Agatha, who had been so deaf to me, nodded her head

"Awake!" cried Miss Penclosa, with a sharp tap of her crutch upon the floor. The eyes opened, the glazing

cleared slowly away, and the soul looked out once more after its strange eclipse.

We went away early. Agatha was none the worse for her strange excursion, but I was nervous and unstrung,

unable to listen to or answer the stream of comments which Wilson was pouring out for my benefit. As I bade

"Pray forgive me," said she, "if I take means to overcome your scepticism. Open this note at ten o'clock

I can't imagine what she means, but there is the note, and it shall be opened as she directs. My head is aching,

and I have written enough for tonight. To morrow I dare say that what seems so inexplicable will take

quite another complexion. I shall not surrender my convictions without a struggle.

March 25. I am amazed, confounded. It is clear that I must reconsider my opinion upon this matter. But first

I had finished breakfast, and was looking over some diagrams with which my lecture is to be illustrated,

when my housekeeper entered to tell me that Agatha was in my study and wished to see me immediately. I

When I entered the room, she was standing on the hearthrug facing me. Something in her pose chilled me

and checked the words which were rising to my lips. Her veil was half down, but I could see that she was

I staggered. I believe that I literally did stagger. I know that I found myself leaning against the bookcase for

"But surely," I cried, "you will give me some reason! This is unlike you, Agatha. Tell me how I have been

"But why? You must be under some delusion, Agatha. Perhaps you have been told some falsehood about me.

Or you may have misunderstood something that I have said to you. Only let me know what it is, and a word

"But you left me last night without a hint at any disagreement. What could have occurred in the interval to

change you so? It must have been something that happened last night. You have been thinking it over and

you have disapproved of my conduct. Was it the mesmerism? Did you blame me for letting that woman

exercise her power over you? You know that at the least sign I should have interfered."

Her voice was cold and measured; her manner strangely formal and hard. It seemed to me that she was

absolutely resolved not to be drawn into any argument or explanation. As for me, I was shaking with

agitation, and I turned my face aside, so ashamed was I that she should see my want of control.

"You must know what this means to me!" I cried. "It is the blasting of all my hopes and the ruin of my life!

You surely will not inflict such a punishment upon me unheard. You will let me know what is the matter.

Consider how impossible it would be for me, under any circumstances, to treat you so. For God's sake,

"It is quite useless, Austin," said she. "You must consider our engagement at an end." An instant later she was

gone, and, before I could recover myself sufficiently to follow her, I heard the halldoor close behind her.

I rushed into my room to change my coat, with the idea of hurrying round to Mrs. Marden's to learn from her

what the cause of my misfortune might be. So shaken was I that I could hardly lace my boots. Never shall I

forget those horrible ten minutes. I had just pulled on my overcoat when the clock upon the mantelpiece

Ten! I associated the idea with Miss Penclosa's note. It was lying before me on the table, and I tore it open. It

"MY DEAR PROFESSOR GILROY [it said]: Pray excuse the personal nature of the test which I am giving

you. Professor Wilson happened to mention the relations between you and my subject of this evening, and it

struck me that nothing could be more convincing to you than if I were to suggest to Miss Marden that she

should call upon you at halfpast nine tomorrow morning and suspend your engagement for half an hour or

so. Science is so exacting that it is difficult to give a satisfying test, but I am convinced that this at least will

be an action which she would be most unlikely to do of her own free will. Forget any thing that she may have

said, as she has really nothing whatever to do with it, and will certainly not recollect any thing about it. I

write this note to shorten your anxiety, and to beg you to forgive me for the momentary unhappiness which

Really, when I had read the note, I was too relieved to be angry. It was a liberty. Certainly it was a very great

liberty indeed on the part of a lady whom I had only met once. But, after all, I had challenged her by my

scepticism. It may have been, as she said, a little difficult to devise a test which would satisfy me.

And she had done that. There could be no question at all upon the point. For me hypnotic suggestion was

finally established. It took its place from now onward as one of the facts of life. That Agatha, who of all

women of my acquaintance has the best balanced mind, had been reduced to a condition of automatism

appeared to be certain. A person at a distance had worked her as an engineer on the shore might guide a

Brennan torpedo. A second soul had stepped in, as it were, had pushed her own aside, and had seized her

nervous mechanism, saying: "I will work this for half an hour." And Agatha must have been unconscious as

she came and as she returned. Could she make her way in safety through the streets in such a state? I put on

Yes. She was at home. I was shown into the drawing room and found her sitting with a book upon her lap.

"Agatha," said I seriously, "would you mind telling me exactly what you have done this morning?"

"You've got on your professional look, Austin. See what comes of being engaged to a man of science.

However, I will tell you, though I can't imagine what you want to know for. I got up at eight. I breakfasted at

halfpast. I came into this room at ten minutes past nine and began to read the `Memoirs of Mme. de

Remusat.' In a few minutes I did the French lady the bad compliment of dropping to sleep over her pages, and

I did you, sir, the very flattering one of dreaming about you. It is only a few minutes since I woke up."

"Would you mind telling me, Agatha, what it was that you dreamed about me? It really is not mere curiosity

"I merely had a vague impression that you came into it. I cannot recall any thing definite."

"Really, Austin, I do not know what is the matter with you this morning. One would almost think that you

doubted my word. If my boots are dusty, it must be, of course, that I have put on a pair which the maid had

It was perfectly evident that she knew nothing whatever about the matter, and I reflected that, after all,

perhaps it was better that I should not enlighten her. It might frighten her, and could serve no good purpose

that I could see. I said no more about it, therefore, and left shortly afterward to give my lecture.

But I am immensely impressed. My horizon of scientific possibilities has suddenly been enormously

extended. I no longer wonder at Wilson's demonic energy and enthusiasm. Who would not work hard who

had a vast virgin field ready to his hand? Why, I have known the novel shape of a nucleolus, or a trifling

peculiarity of striped muscular fibre seen under a 300diameter lens, fill me with exultation. How petty do

such researches seem when compared with this one which strikes at the very roots of life and the nature of the

soul! I had always looked upon spirit as a product of matter. The brain, I thought, secreted the mind, as the

liver does the bile. But how can this be when I see mind working from a distance and playing upon matter as

a musician might upon a violin? The body does not give rise to the soul, then, but is rather the rough

instrument by which the spirit manifests itself. The windmill does not give rise to the wind, but only indicates

it. It was opposed to my whole habit of thought, and yet it was undeniably possible and worthy of

And why should I not investigate it? I see that under yesterday's date I said: "If I could see something positive

and objective, I might be tempted to approach it from the physiological aspect." Well, I have got my test. I

shall be as good as my word. The investigation would, I am sure, be of immense interest. Some of my

colleagues might look askance at it, for science is full of unreasoning prejudices, but if Wilson has the

courage of his convictions, I can afford to have it also. I shall go to him tomorrow morning to him and to

Miss Penclosa. If she can show us so much, it is probable that she can show us more.

March 26. Wilson was, as I had anticipated, very exultant over my conversion, and Miss Penclosa was also

demurely pleased at the result of her experiment. Strange what a silent, colorless creature she is save only

when she exercises her power! Even talking about it gives her color and life. She seems to take a singular

We had the most interesting conversation about her own powers. It is just as well to put her views on record,

"You are on the very fringe of the subject," said she, when I had expressed wonder at the remarkable instance

of suggestion which she had shown me. "I had no direct influence upon Miss Marden when she came round

to you. I was not even thinking of her that morning. What I did was to set her mind as I might set the alarum

of a clock so that at the hour named it would go off of its own accord. If six months instead of twelve hours

"It is, as you say, a terrible power," she answered gravely, "and the more you know of it the more terrible will

"May I ask," said I, "what you meant when you said that this matter of suggestion is only at the fringe of it?

"You understand," said I, "that it is not out of curiosity I ask, but in the hope that I may find some scientific

"Frankly, Professor Gilroy," said she, "I am not at all interested in science, nor do I care whether it can or

"Ah, that is quite another thing. If you make it a personal matter," said she, with the pleasantest of smiles, "I

shall be only too happy to tell you any thing you wish to know. Let me see; what was it you asked me? Oh,

about the further powers. Professor Wilson won't believe in them, but they are quite true all the same. For

example, it is possible for an operator to gain complete command over his subject presuming that the latter

is a good one. Without any previous suggestion he may make him do whatever he likes."

"That depends. If the force were strongly exerted, he would know no more about it than Miss Marden did

when she came round and frightened you so. Or, if the influence was less powerful, he might be conscious of

"Well, it does not entirely depend upon that. Many have strong wills which are not detachable from

themselves. The thing is to have the gift of projecting it into another person and superseding his own. I find

"There might be a little. You have to be careful never to let your own consciousness absolutely go; otherwise,

you might experience some difficulty in finding your way back again. You must always preserve the

connection, as it were. I am afraid I express myself very badly, Professor Gilroy, but of course I don't know

how to put these things in a scientific way. I am just giving you my own experiences and my own

Well, I read this over now at my leisure, and I marvel at myself! Is this Austin Gilroy, the man who has won

his way to the front by his hard reasoning power and by his devotion to fact? Here I am gravely retailing the

gossip of a woman who tells me how her soul may be projected from her body, and how, while she lies in a

lethargy, she can control the actions of people at a distance. Do I accept it? Certainly not. She must prove and

reprove before I yield a point. But if I am still a sceptic, I have at least ceased to be a scoffer. We are to have

a sitting this evening, and she is to try if she can produce any mesmeric effect upon me. If she can, it will

make an excellent startingpoint for our investigation. No one can accuse me, at any rate, of complicity. If

she cannot, we must try and find some subject who will be like Caesar's wife. Wilson is perfectly impervious.

10 P. M. I believe that I am on the threshold of an epochmaking investigation. To have the power of

examining these phenomena from insideto have an organism which will respond, and at the same time a

brain which will appreciate and criticisethat is surely a unique advantage. I am quite sure that Wilson

would give five years of his life to be as susceptible as I have proved myself to be.

There was no one present except Wilson and his wife. I was seated with my head leaning back, and Miss

Penclosa, standing in front and a little to the left, used the same long, sweeping strokes as with Agatha. At

each of them a warm current of air seemed to strike me, and to suffuse a thrill and glow all through me from

head to foot. My eyes were fixed upon Miss Penclosa's face, but as I gazed the features seemed to blur and to

fade away. I was conscious only of her own eyes looking down at me, gray, deep, inscrutable. Larger they

grew and larger, until they changed suddenly into two mountain lakes toward which I seemed to be falling

with horrible rapidity. I shuddered, and as I did so some deeper stratum of thought told me that the shudder

represented the rigor which I had observed in Agatha. An instant later I struck the surface of the lakes, now

joined into one, and down I went beneath the water with a fulness in my head and a buzzing in my ears.

Down I went, down, down, and then with a swoop up again until I could see the light streaming brightly

through the green water. I was almost at the surface when the word "Awake!" rang through my head, and,

with a start, I found myself back in the armchair, with Miss Penclosa leaning on her crutch, and Wilson, his

note book in his hand, peeping over her shoulder. No heaviness or weariness was left behind. On the

contrary, though it is only an hour or so since the experiment, I feel so wakeful that I am more inclined for

my study than my bedroom. I see quite a vista of interesting experiments extending before us, and am all

March 27. A blank day, as Miss Penclosa goes with Wilson and his wife to the Suttons'. Have begun Binet

and Ferre's "Animal Magnetism." What strange, deep waters these are! Results, results, resultsand the

cause an absolute mystery. It is stimulating to the imagination, but I must be on my guard against that. Let us

have no inferences nor deductions, and nothing but solid facts. I KNOW that the mesmeric trance is true; I

KNOW that mesmeric suggestion is true; I KNOW that I am myself sensitive to this force. That is my present

position. I have a large new notebook which shall be devoted entirely to scientific detail.

Long talk with Agatha and Mrs. Marden in the evening about our marriage. We think that the summer vac.

(the beginning of it) would be the best time for the wedding. Why should we delay? I grudge even those few

months. Still, as Mrs. Marden says, there are a good many things to be arranged.

March 28. Mesmerized again by Miss Penclosa. Experience much the same as before, save that insensibility

came on more quickly. See Notebook A for temperature of room, barometric pressure, pulse, and respiration

March 30. Sunday, and a blank day. I grudge any interruption of our experiments. At present they merely

embrace the physical signs which go with slight, with complete, and with extreme insensibility. Afterward we

hope to pass on to the phenomena of suggestion and of lucidity. Professors have demonstrated these things

upon women at Nancy and at the Salpetriere. It will be more convincing when a woman demonstrates it upon

a professor, with a second professor as a witness. And that I should be the subjectI, the sceptic, the

materialist! At least, I have shown that my devotion to science is greater than to my own personal

consistency. The eating of our own words is the greatest sacrifice which truth ever requires of us.

My neighbor, Charles Sadler, the handsome young demonstrator of anatomy, came in this evening to return a

volume of Virchow's "Archives" which I had lent him. I call him young, but, as a matter of fact, he is a year

"I understand, Gilroy," said he, "that you are being experimented upon by Miss Penclosa.

"Well," he went on, when I had acknowledged it, "if I were you, I should not let it go any further. You will

think me very impertinent, no doubt, but, none the less, I feel it to be my duty to advise you to have no more

"I am so placed that I cannot enter into particulars as freely as I could wish," said he. "Miss Penclosa is the

friend of my friend, and my position is a delicate one. I can only say this: that I have myself been the subject

of some of the woman's experiments, and that they have left a most unpleasant impression upon my mind."

He could hardly expect me to be satisfied with that, and I tried hard to get something more definite out of

him, but without success. Is it conceivable that he could be jealous at my having superseded him? Or is he

one of those men of science who feel personally injured when facts run counter to their preconceived

opinions? He cannot seriously suppose that because he has some vague grievance I am, therefore, to abandon

a series of experiments which promise to be so fruitful of results. He appeared to be annoyed at the light way

in which I treated his shadowy warnings, and we parted with some little coldness on both sides.

April 2. Mesmerized by Miss P. (Sphygmographic chart taken by Professor Wilson.)

April 3. It is possible that this course of mesmerism may be a little trying to the general constitution. Agatha

says that I am thinner and darker under the eyes. I am conscious of a nervous irritability which I had not

observed in myself before. The least noise, for example, makes me start, and the stupidity of a student causes

me exasperation instead of amusement. Agatha wishes me to stop, but I tell her that every course of study is

trying, and that one can never attain a result with out paying some price for it. When she sees the sensation

which my forthcoming paper on "The Relation between Mind and Matter" may make, she will understand

that it is worth a little nervous wear and tear. I should not be surprised if I got my F. R. S. over it.

Mesmerized again in the evening. The effect is produced more rapidly now, and the subjective visions are

less marked. I keep full notes of each sitting. Wilson is leaving for town for a week or ten days, but we shall

not interrupt the experiments, which depend for their value as much upon my sensations as on his

April 4. I must be carefully on my guard. A complication has crept into our experiments which I had not

reckoned upon. In my eagerness for scientific facts I have been foolishly blind to the human relations

between Miss Penclosa and myself. I can write here what I would not breathe to a living soul. The unhappy

I should not say such a thing, even in the privacy of my own intimate journal, if it had not come to such a

pass that it is impossible to ignore it. For some time,that is, for the last week,there have been signs

which I have brushed aside and refused to think of. Her brightness when I come, her dejection when I go, her

eagerness that I should come often, the expression of her eyes, the tone of her voiceI tried to think that

they meant nothing, and were, perhaps, only her ardent West Indian manner. But last night, as I awoke from

the mesmeric sleep, I put out my hand, unconsciously, involuntarily, and clasped hers. When I came fully to

myself, we were sitting with them locked, she looking up at me with an expectant smile. And the horrible

thing was that I felt impelled to say what she expected me to say. What a false wretch I should have been!

How I should have loathed myself today had I yielded to the temptation of that moment! But, thank God, I

was strong enough to spring up and hurry from the room. I was rude, I fear, but I could not, no, I COULD

not, trust myself another moment. I, a gentleman, a man of honor, engaged to one of the sweetest girls in

Englandand yet in a moment of reasonless passion I nearly professed love for this woman whom I hardly

know. She is far older than myself and a cripple. It is monstrous, odious; and yet the impulse was so strong

that, had I stayed another minute in her presence, I should have committed myself. What was it? I have to

teach others the workings of our organism, and what do I know of it myself? Was it the sudden upcropping of

some lower stratum in my naturea brutal primitive instinct suddenly asserting itself? I could almost believe

Well, the incident places me in a most unfortunate position. On the one hand, I am very loath to abandon a

series of experiments which have already gone so far, and which promise such brilliant results. On the other,

if this unhappy woman has conceived a passion for me But surely even now I must have made some

hideous mistake. She, with her age and her deformity! It is impossible. And then she knew about Agatha. She

understood how I was placed. She only smiled out of amusement, perhaps, when in my dazed state I seized

her hand. It was my halfmesmerized brain which gave it a meaning, and sprang with such bestial swiftness

to meet it. I wish I could persuade myself that it was indeed so. On the whole, perhaps, my wisest plan would

be to postpone our other experiments until Wilson's return. I have written a note to Miss Penclosa, therefore,

making no allusion to last night, but saying that a press of work would cause me to interrupt our sittings for a

few days. She has answered, formally enough, to say that if I should change my mind I should find her at

10 P. M. Well, well, what a thing of straw I am! I am coming to know myself better of late, and the more I

know the lower I fall in my own estimation. Surely I was not always so weak as this. At four o'clock I should

have smiled had any one told me that I should go to Miss Penclosa's tonight, and yet, at eight, I was at

Wilson's door as usual. I don't know how it occurred. The influence of habit, I suppose. Perhaps there is a

mesmeric craze as there is an opium craze, and I am a victim to it. I only know that as I worked in my study I

became more and more uneasy. I fidgeted. I worried. I could not concentrate my mind upon the papers in

front of me. And then, at last, almost before I knew what I was doing, I seized my hat and hurried round to

We had an interesting evening. Mrs. Wilson was present during most of the time, which prevented the

embarrassment which one at least of us must have felt. Miss Penclosa's manner was quite the same as usual,

and she expressed no surprise at my having come in spite of my note. There was nothing in her bearing to

show that yesterday's incident had made any impression upon her, and so I am inclined to hope that I

April 6 (evening). No, no, no, I did not overrate it. I can no longer attempt to conceal from myself that this

woman has conceived a passion for me. It is monstrous, but it is true. Again, tonight, I awoke from the

mesmeric trance to find my hand in hers, and to suffer that odious feeling which urges me to throw away my

honor, my career, every thing, for the sake of this creature who, as I can plainly see when I am away from her

influence, possesses no single charm upon earth. But when I am near her, I do not feel this. She rouses

something in me, something evil, something I had rather not think of. She paralyzes my better nature, too, at

the moment when she stimulates my worse. Decidedly it is not good for me to be near her.

Last night was worse than before. Instead of flying I actually sat for some time with my hand in hers talking

over the most intimate subjects with her. We spoke of Agatha, among other things. What could I have been

dreaming of? Miss Penclosa said that she was conventional, and I agreed with her. She spoke once or twice in

Weak as I have proved myself to be, I am still strong enough to bring this sort of thing to an end. It shall not

happen again. I have sense enough to fly when I cannot fight. From this Sunday night onward I shall never sit

with Miss Penclosa again. Never! Let the experiments go, let the research come to an end; any thing is better

than facing this monstrous temptation which drags me so low. I have said nothing to Miss Penclosa, but I

April 7. Have stayed away as I said. It is a pity to ruin such an interesting investigation, but it would be a

greater pity still to ruin my life, and I KNOW that I cannot trust myself with that woman.

11 P. M. God help me! What is the matter with me? Am I going mad? Let me try and be calm and reason

It was nearly eight when I wrote the lines with which this day begins. Feeling strangely restless and uneasy, I

left my rooms and walked round to spend the evening with Agatha and her mother. They both remarked that I

was pale and haggard. About nine Professor Pratt Haldane came in, and we played a game of whist. I tried

hard to concentrate my attention upon the cards, but the feeling of restlessness grew and grew until I found it

impossible to struggle against it. I simply COULD not sit still at the table. At last, in the very middle of a

hand, I threw my cards down and, with some sort of an incoherent apology about having an appointment, I

rushed from the room. As if in a dream I have a vague recollection of tearing through the hall, snatching my

hat from the stand, and slamming the door behind me. As in a dream, too, I have the impression of the double

line of gaslamps, and my bespattered boots tell me that I must have run down the middle of the road. It was

all misty and strange and unnatural. I came to Wilson's house; I saw Mrs. Wilson and I saw Miss Penclosa. I

hardly recall what we talked about, but I do remember that Miss P. shook the head of her crutch at me in a

playful way, and accused me of being late and of losing interest in our experiments. There was no

My brain is quite clear again now, and I can think over what has occurred. It is absurd to suppose that it is

merely weakness and force of habit. I tried to explain it in that way the other night, but it will no longer

suffice. It is something much deeper and more terrible than that. Why, when I was at the Mardens' whist

table, I was dragged away as if the noose of a rope had been cast round me. I can no longer disguise it from

myself. The woman has her grip upon me. I am in her clutch. But I must keep my head and reason it out and

But what a blind fool I have been! In my enthusiasm over my research I have walked straight into the pit,

although it lay gaping before me. Did she not herself warn me? Did she not tell me, as I can read in my own

journal, that when she has acquired power over a subject she can make him do her will? And she has acquired

that power over me. I am for the moment at the beck and call of this creature with the crutch. I must come

when she wills it. I must do as she wills. Worst of all, I must feel as she wills. I loathe her and fear her, yet,

There is some consolation in the thought, then, that those odious impulses for which I have blamed myself do

not really come from me at all. They are all transferred from her, little as I could have guessed it at the time. I

April 8. Yes, now, in broad daylight, writing coolly and with time for reflection, I am compelled to confirm

every thing which I wrote in my journal last night. I am in a horrible position, but, above all, I must not lose

my head. I must pit my intellect against her powers. After all, I am no silly puppet, to dance at the end of a

string. I have energy, brains, courage. For all her devil's tricks I may beat her yet. May! I MUST, or what is to

Let me try to reason it out! This woman, by her own explanation, can dominate my nervous organism. She

can project herself into my body and take command of it. She has a parasite soul; yes, she is a parasite, a

monstrous parasite. She creeps into my frame as the hermit crab does into the whelk's shell. I am powerless

What can I do? I am dealing with forces of which I know nothing. And I can tell no one of my trouble. They

would set me down as a madman. Certainly, if it got noised abroad, the university would say that they had no

I read over my notes of what the woman said when she spoke about her powers. There is one point which fills

me with dismay. She implies that when the influence is slight the subject knows what he is doing, but cannot

control himself, whereas when it is strongly exerted he is absolutely unconscious. Now, I have always known

what I did, though less so last night than on the previous occasions. That seems to mean that she has never

Yes, perhaps there was, and very near me, too. Charles Sadler must know something of this! His vague words

of warning take a meaning now. Oh, if I had only listened to him then, before I helped by these repeated

sittings to forge the links of the chain which binds me! But I will see him today. I will apologize to him for

4 P. M. No, he cannot. I have talked with him, and he showed such surprise at the first words in which I tried

to express my unspeakable secret that I went no further. As far as I can gather (by hints and inferences rather

than by any statement), his own experience was limited to some words or looks such as I have myself

endured. His abandonment of Miss Penclosa is in itself a sign that he was never really in her toils. Oh, if he

only knew his escape! He has to thank his phlegmatic Saxon temperament for it. I am black and Celtic, and

this hag's clutch is deep in my nerves. Shall I ever get it out? Shall I ever be the same man that I was just one

Let me consider what I had better do. I cannot leave the university in the middle of the term. If I were free,

my course would be obvious. I should start at once and travel in Persia. But would she allow me to start? And

could her influence not reach me in Persia, and bring me back to within touch of her crutch? I can only find

out the limits of this hellish power by my own bitter experience. I will fight and fight and fightand what

I know very well that about eight o'clock tonight that craving for her society, that irresistible restlessness,

will come upon me. How shall I overcome it? What shall I do? I must make it impossible for me to leave the

room. I shall lock the door and throw the key out of the window. But, then, what am I to do in the morning?

Never mind about the morning. I must at all costs break this chain which holds me.

April 9. Victory! I have done splendidly! At seven o'clock last night I took a hasty dinner, and then locked

myself up in my bedroom and dropped the key into the garden. I chose a cheery novel, and lay in bed for

three hours trying to read it, but really in a horrible state of trepidation, expecting every instant that I should

become conscious of the impulse. Nothing of the sort occurred, however, and I awoke this morning with the

feeling that a black nightmare had been lifted off me. Perhaps the creature realized what I had done, and

understood that it was useless to try to influence me. At any rate, I have beaten her once, and if I can do it

It was most awkward about the key in the morning. Luckily, there was an undergardener below, and I asked

him to throw it up. No doubt he thought I had just dropped it. I will have doors and windows screwed up and

six stout men to hold me down in my bed before I will surrender myself to be hagridden in this way.

I had a note from Mrs. Marden this afternoon asking me to go round and see her. I intended to do so in any

case, but had not excepted to find bad news waiting for me. It seems that the Armstrongs, from whom Agatha

has expectations, are due home from Adelaide in the Aurora, and that they have written to Mrs. Marden and

her to meet them in town. They will probably be away for a month or six weeks, and, as the Aurora is due on

Wednesday, they must go at oncetomorrow, if they are ready in time. My consolation is that when we

"I want you to do one thing, Agatha," said I, when we were alone together. "If you should happen to meet

Miss Penclosa, either in town or here, you must promise me never again to allow her to mesmerize you."

"Why, it was only the other day that you were saying how interesting it all was, and how determined you

"I am so glad, Austin. You can't think how pale and worn you have been lately. It was really our principal

objection to going to London now that we did not wish to leave you when you were so pulled down. And

your manner has been so strange occasionallyespecially that night when you left poor Professor

PrattHaldane to play dummy. I am convinced that these experiments are very bad for your nerves."

"Mrs. Wilson told us so last night. She described it as a nervous fever Professor Wilson is coming back this

week, and of course Mrs. Wilson is very anxious that Miss Penclosa should be well again then, for he has

I was glad to have Agatha's promise, for it was enough that this woman should have one of us in her clutch.

On the other hand, I was disturbed to hear about Miss Penclosa's illness. It rather discounts the victory which

I appeared to win last night. I remember that she said that loss of health interfered with her power. That may

be why I was able to hold my own so easily. Well, well, I must take the same precautions tonight and see

April 10. All went very well last night. I was amused at the gardener's face when I had again to hail him this

morning and to ask him to throw up my key. I shall get a name among the servants if this sort of thing goes

on. But the great point is that I stayed in my room without the slightest inclination to leave it. I do believe that

I am shaking myself clear of this incredible bondor is it only that the woman's power is in abeyance until

The Mardens left this morning, and the brightness seems to have gone out of the spring sunshine. And yet it

is very beautiful also as it gleams on the green chestnuts opposite my windows, and gives a touch of gayety

to the heavy, lichenmottled walls of the old colleges. How sweet and gentle and soothing is Nature! Who

would think that there lurked in her also such vile forces, such odious possibilities! For of course I understand

that this dreadful thing which has sprung out at me is neither supernatural nor even preternatural. No, it is a

natural force which this woman can use and society is ignorant of. The mere fact that it ebbs with her strength

shows how entirely it is subject to physical laws. If I had time, I might probe it to the bottom and lay my

hands upon its antidote. But you cannot tame the tiger when you are beneath his claws. You can but try to

writhe away from him. Ah, when I look in the glass and see my own dark eyes and clearcut Spanish face, I

long for a vitriol splash or a bout of the smallpox. One or the other might have saved me from this calamity.

I am inclined to think that I may have trouble to night. There are two things which make me fear so. One is

that I met Mrs. Wilson in the street, and that she tells me that Miss Penclosa is better, though still weak. I find

myself wishing in my heart that the illness had been her last. The other is that Professor Wilson comes back

in a day or two, and his presence would act as a constraint upon her. I should not fear our interviews if a third

person were present. For both these reasons I have a presentiment of trouble to night, and I shall take the

April 10. No, thank God, all went well last night. I really could not face the gardener again. I locked my door

and thrust the key underneath it, so that I had to ask the maid to let me out in the morning. But the precaution

was really not needed, for I never had any inclination to go out at all. Three evenings in succession at home! I

am surely near the end of my troubles, for Wilson will be home again either today or tomorrow. Shall I tell

him of what I have gone through or not? I am convinced that I should not have the slightest sympathy from

him. He would look upon me as an interesting case, and read a paper about me at the next meeting of the

Psychical Society, in which he would gravely discuss the possibility of my being a deliberate liar, and weigh

it against the chances of my being in an early stage of lunacy. No, I shall get no comfort out of Wilson.

I am feeling wonderfully fit and well. I don't think I ever lectured with greater spirit. Oh, if I could only get

this shadow off my life, how happy I should be! Young, fairly wealthy, in the front rank of my profession,

engaged to a beautiful and charming girl have I not every thing which a man could ask for? Only one thing

Midnight. I shall go mad. Yes, that will be the end of it. I shall go mad. I am not far from it now. My head

throbs as I rest it on my hot hand. I am quivering all over like a scared horse. Oh, what a night I have had!

At the risk of becoming the laughingstock of my own servant, I again slipped my key under the door,

imprisoning myself for the night. Then, finding it too early to go to bed, I lay down with my clothes on and

began to read one of Dumas's novels. Suddenly I was grippedgripped and dragged from the couch. It is

only thus that I can describe the overpowering nature of the force which pounced upon me. I clawed at the

coverlet. I clung to the woodwork. I believe that I screamed out in my frenzy. It was all useless, hopeless. I

MUST go. There was no way out of it. It was only at the outset that I resisted. The force soon became too

overmastering for that. I thank goodness that there were no watchers there to interfere with me. I could not

have answered for myself if there had been. And, besides the determination to get out, there came to me, also,

the keenest and coolest judgment in choosing my means. I lit a candle and endeavored, kneeling in front of

the door, to pull the key through with the featherend of a quill pen. It was just too short and pushed it further

away. Then with quiet persistence I got a paperknife out of one of the drawers, and with that I managed to

draw the key back. I opened the door, stepped into my study, took a photograph of myself from the bureau,

wrote something across it, placed it in the inside pocket of my coat, and then started off for Wilson's.

It was all wonderfully clear, and yet disassociated from the rest of my life, as the incidents of even the most

vivid dream might be. A peculiar double consciousness possessed me. There was the predominant alien will,

which was bent upon drawing me to the side of its owner, and there was the feebler protesting personality,

which I recognized as being myself, tugging feebly at the overmastering impulse as a led terrier might at its

chain. I can remember recognizing these two conflicting forces, but I recall nothing of my walk, nor of how I

Very vivid, however, is my recollection of how I met Miss Penclosa. She was reclining on the sofa in the

little boudoir in which our experiments had usually been carried out. Her head was rested on her hand, and a

tigerskin rug had been partly drawn over her. She looked up expectantly as I entered, and, as the lamp light

fell upon her face, I could see that she was very pale and thin, with dark hollows under her eyes. She smiled

at me, and pointed to a stool beside her. It was with her left hand that she pointed, and I, running eagerly

forward, seized it,I loathe myself as I think of it,and pressed it passionately to my lips. Then, seating

myself upon the stool, and still retaining her hand, I gave her the photograph which I had brought with me,

and talked and talked and talkedof my love for her, of my grief over her illness, of my joy at her recovery,

of the misery it was to me to be absent a single evening from her side. She lay quietly looking down at me

with imperious eyes and her provocative smile. Once I remember that she passed her hand over my hair as

one caresses a dog; and it gave me pleasurethe caress. I thrilled under it. I was her slave, body and soul,

And then came the blessed change. Never tell me that there is not a Providence! I was on the brink of

perdition. My feet were on the edge. Was it a coincidence that at that very instant help should come? No, no,

no; there is a Providence, and its hand has drawn me back. There is something in the universe stronger than

this devil woman with her tricks. Ah, what a balm to my heart it is to think so!

As I looked up at her I was conscious of a change in her. Her face, which had been pale before, was now

ghastly. Her eyes were dull, and the lids drooped heavily over them. Above all, the look of serene confidence

had gone from her features. Her mouth had weakened. Her forehead had puckered. She was frightened and

undecided. And as I watched the change my own spirit fluttered and struggled, trying hard to tear itself from

"Austin," she whispered, "I have tried to do too much. I was not strong enough. I have not recovered yet from

my illness. But I could not live longer without seeing you. You won't leave me, Austin? This is only a

passing weakness. If you will only give me five minutes, I shall be myself again. Give me the small decanter

But I had regained my soul. With her waning strength the influence had cleared away from me and left me

free. And I was aggressivebitterly, fiercely aggressive. For once at least I could make this woman

understand what my real feelings toward her were. My soul was filled with a hatred as bestial as the love

against which it was a reaction. It was the savage, murderous passion of the revolted serf. I could have taken

the crutch from her side and beaten her face in with it. She threw her hands up, as if to avoid a blow, and

I took the decanter and poured it over the roots of a palm in the window. Then I snatched the photograph

"You vile woman," I said, "if I did my duty to society, you would never leave this room alive!"

"Charles Sadler!" she gasped. "He has spoken to you? So, Charles Sadler, Charles Sadler!" Her voice came

"Yes, I know you, and others shall know you, too. You shameless creature! You knew how I stood. And yet

you used your vile power to bring me to your side. You may, perhaps, do so again, but at least you will

remember that you have heard me say that I love Miss Marden from the bottom of my soul, and that I loathe

The very sight of you and the sound of your voice fill me with horror and disgust. The thought of you is

repulsive. That is how I feel toward you, and if it pleases you by your tricks to draw me again to your side as

you have done tonight, you will at least, I should think, have little satisfaction in trying to make a lover out

of a man who has told you his real opinion of you. You may put what words you will into my mouth, but you

I stopped, for the woman's head had fallen back, and she had fainted. She could not bear to hear what I had to

say to her! What a glow of satisfaction it gives me to think that, come what may, in the future she can never

misunderstand my true feelings toward her. But what will occur in the future? What will she do next? I dare

not think of it. Oh, if only I could hope that she will leave me alone! But when I think of what I said to

April 11. I hardly slept last night, and found myself in the morning so unstrung and feverish that I was

compelled to ask PrattHaldane to do my lecture for me. It is the first that I have ever missed. I rose at

midday, but my head is aching, my hands quivering, and my nerves in a pitiable state.

Who should come round this evening but Wilson. He has just come back from London, where he has

lectured, read papers, convened meetings, exposed a medium, conducted a series of experiments on thought

transference, entertained Professor Richet of Paris, spent hours gazing into a crystal, and obtained some

evidence as to the passage of matter through matter. All this he poured into my ears in a single gust.

"But you!" he cried at last. "You are not looking well. And Miss Penclosa is quite prostrated today. How

"This is of great interest," said he. "What are your grounds for saying that it is a dangerous one? Please give

your facts in chronological order, with approximate dates and names of reliable witnesses with their

"First of all," I asked, "would you tell me whether you have collected any cases where the mesmerist has

"I don't mean suggestion. I mean where a sudden impulse comes from a person at a distancean

"Obsession!" he shrieked, in an ecstasy of delight. "It is the rarest condition. We have eight cases, five well

"No, I don't," said I. "Goodevening! You will excuse me, but I am not very w ell tonight." And so at last I

got rid of him, still brandishing his pencil and his notebook. My troubles may be bad to hear, but at least it

is better to hug them to myself than to have myself exhibited by Wilson, like a freak at a fair. He has lost

sight of human beings. Every thing to him is a case and a phenomenon. I will die before I speak to him again

April 12. Yesterday was a blessed day of quiet, and I enjoyed an uneventful night. Wilson's presence is a

great consolation. What can the woman do now? Surely, when she has heard me say what I have said, she

will conceive the same disgust for me which I have for her. She could not, no, she COULD not, desire to

have a lover who had insulted her so. No, I believe I am free from her lovebut how about her hate? Might

she not use these powers of hers for revenge? Tut! why should I frighten myself over shadows? She will

April 13. My nerves have quite recovered their tone. I really believe that I have conquered the creature. But I

must confess to living in some suspense. She is well again, for I hear that she was driving with Mrs. Wilson

April 14. I do wish I could get away from the place altogether. I shall fly to Agatha's side the very day that

the term closes. I suppose it is pitiably weak of me, but this woman gets upon my nerves most terribly. I have

It was just after lunch, and I was smoking a cigarette in my study, when I heard the step of my servant

Murray in the passage. I was languidly conscious that a second step was audible behind, and had hardly

troubled myself to speculate who it might be, when suddenly a slight noise brought me out of my chair with

my skin creeping with apprehension. I had never particularly observed before what sort of sound the tapping

of a crutch was, but my quivering nerves told me that I heard it now in the sharp wooden clack which

alternated with the muffled thud of the foot fall. Another instant and my servant had shown her in.

I did not attempt the usual conventions of society, nor did she. I simply stood with the smouldering cigarette

in my hand, and gazed at her. She in her turn looked silently at me, and at her look I remembered how in

these very pages I had tried to define the expression of her eyes, whether they were furtive or fierce. To day

"Well," said she at last, "are you still of the same mind as when I saw you last?"

"Let us understand each other, Professor Gilroy," said she slowly. "I am not a very safe person to trifle with,

as you should realize by now. It was you who asked me to enter into a series of experiments with you, it was

you who won my affections, it was you who professed your love for me, it was you who brought me your

own photograph with words of affection upon it, and, finally, it was you who on the very same evening

thought fit to insult me most outrageously, addressing me as no man has ever dared to speak to me yet. Tell

me that those words came from you in a moment of passion and I am prepared to forget and to forgive them.

I might have pitied this deformed womansuch a longing for love broke suddenly through the menace of

her eyes. But then I thought of what I had gone through, and my heart set like flint.

"If ever you heard me speak of love," said I, "you know very well that it was your voice which spoke, and not

mine. The only words of truth which I have ever been able to say to you are those which you heard when last

"I know. Some one has set you against me. It was he!" She tapped with her crutch upon the floor. "Well, you

know very well that I could bring you this instant crouching like a spaniel to my feet. You will not find me

again in my hour of weakness, when you can insult me with impunity. Have a care what you are doing,

Professor Gilroy. You stand in a terrible position. You have not yet realized the hold which I have upon you."

"Well," said she, after a pause, "if you despise my love, I must see what can be done with fear. You smile, but

the day will come when you will come screaming to me for pardon. Yes, you will grovel on the ground

before me, proud as you are, and you will curse the day that ever you turned me from your best friend into

your most bitter enemy. Have a care, Professor Gilroy!" I saw a white hand shaking in the air, and a face

which was scarcely human, so convulsed was it with passion. An instant later she was gone, and I heard the

But she has left a weight upon my heart. Vague presentiments of coming misfortune lie heavy upon me. I try

in vain to persuade myself that these are only words of empty anger. I can remember those relentless eyes too

clearly to think so. What shall I doah, what shall I do? I am no longer master of my own soul. At any

moment this loathsome parasite may creep into me, and then I must tell some one my hideous secretI

must tell it or go mad. If I had some one to sympathize and advise! Wilson is out of the question. Charles

Sadler would understand me only so far as his own experience carries him. PrattHaldane! He is a

wellbalanced man, a man of great commonsense and resource. I will go to him. I will tell him every thing.

6.45 P. M. No, it is useless. There is no human help for me; I must fight this out singlehanded. Two courses

lie before me. I might become this woman's lover. Or I must endure such persecutions as she can inflict upon

me. Even if none come, I shall live in a hell of apprehension. But she may torture me, she may drive me mad,

she may kill me: I will never, never, never give in. What can she inflict which would be worse than the loss

of Agatha, and the knowledge that I am a perjured liar, and have forfeited the name of gentleman?

PrattHaldane was most amiable, and listened with all politeness to my story. But when I looked at his heavy

set features, his slow eyes, and the ponderous study furniture which surrounded him, I could hardly tell him

what I had come to say. It was all so substantial, so material. And, besides, what would I myself have said a

short month ago if one of my colleagues had come to me with a story of demonic possession? Perhaps. I

should have been less patient than he was. As it was, he took notes of my statement, asked me how much tea

I drank, how many hours I slept, whether I had been overworking much, had I had sudden pains in the head,

evil dreams, singing in the ears, flashes before the eyesall questions which pointed to his belief that brain

congestion was at the bottom of my trouble. Finally he dismissed me with a great many platitudes about

openair exercise, and avoidance of nervous excitement. His prescription, which was for chloral and

No, I can look for no help from any human being. If I consult any more, they may put their heads together

and I may find myself in an asylum. I can but grip my courage with both hands, and pray that an honest man

April 10. It is the sweetest spring within the memory of man. So green, so mild, so beautiful t Ah, what a

contrast between nature without and my own soul so torn with doubt and terror! It has been an uneventful

day, but I know that I am on the edge of an abyss. I know it, and yet I go on with the routine of my life. The

one bright spot is that Agatha is happy and well and out of all danger. If this creature had a hand on each of

April 16. The woman is ingenious in her torments. She knows how fond I am of my work, and how highly

my lectures are thought of. So it is from that point that she now attacks me. It will end, I can see, in my losing

my professorship, but I will fight to the finish. She shall not drive me out of it without a struggle.

I was not conscious of any change during my lecture this morning save that for a minute or two I had a

dizziness and swimminess which rapidly passed away. On the contrary, I congratulated myself upon having

made my subject (the functions of the red corpuscles) both interesting and clear. I was surprised, therefore,

when a student came into my laboratory immediately after the lecture, and complained of being puzzled by

the discrepancy between my statements and those in the text books. He showed me his notebook, in which I

was reported as having in one portion of the lecture championed the most outrageous and unscientific

heresies. Of course I denied it, and declared that he had misunderstood me, but on comparing his notes with

those of his companions, it became clear that he was right, and that I really had made some most preposterous

statements. Of course I shall explain it away as being the result of a moment of aberration, but I feel only too

sure that it will be the first of a series. It is but a month now to the end of the session, and I pray that I may be

April 26. Ten days have elapsed since I have had the heart to make any entry in my journal. Why should I

record my own humiliation and degradation? I had vowed never to open it again. And yet the force of habit is

strong, and here I find myself taking up once more the record of my own dreadful experiencesin much the

same spirit in which a suicide has been known to take notes of the effects of the poison which killed him.

Well, the crash which I had foreseen has comeand that no further back than yesterday. The university

authorities have taken my lectureship from me. It has been done in the most delicate way, purporting to be a

temporary measure to relieve me from the effects of overwork, and to give me the opportunity of recovering

my health. None the less, it has been done, and I am no longer Professor Gilroy. The laboratory is still in my

The fact is that my lectures had become the laughing stock of the university. My class was crowded with

students who came to see and hear what the eccentric professor would do or say next. I cannot go into the

detail of my humiliation. Oh, that devilish woman! There is no depth of buffoonery and imbecility to which

she has not forced me. I would begin my lecture clearly and well, but always with the sense of a coming

eclipse. Then as I felt the influence I would struggle against it, striving with clenched hands and beads of

sweat upon my brow to get the better of it, while the students, hearing my incoherent words and watching my

contortions, would roar with laughter at the antics of their professor. And then, when she had once fairly

mastered me, out would come the most outrageous thingssilly jokes, sentiments as though I were

proposing a toast, snatches of ballads, personal abuse even against some member of my class. And then in a

moment my brain would clear again, and my lecture would proceed decorously to the end. No wonder that

my conduct has been the talk of the colleges. No wonder that the University Senate has been compelled to

And the most dreadful part of it all is my own loneliness. Here I sit in a commonplace English bow window,

looking out upon a commonplace English street with its garish 'buses and its lounging policeman, and behind

me there hangs a shadow which is out of all keeping with the age and place. In the home of knowledge I am

weighed down and tortured by a power of which science knows nothing. No magistrate would listen to me.

No paper would discuss my case. No doctor would believe my symptoms. My own most intimate friends

would only look upon it as a sign of brain derangement. I am out of all touch with my kind. Oh, that devilish

woman! Let her have a care! She may push me too far. When the law cannot help a man, he may make a law

She met me in the High Street yesterday evening and spoke to me. It was as well for her, perhaps, that it was

not between the hedges of a lonely country road. She asked me with her cold smile whether I had been

chastened yet. I did not deign to answer her. "We must try another turn of the screw;" said she. Have a care,

my lady, have a care! I had her at my mercy once. Perhaps another chance may come.

April 28. The suspension of my lectureship has had the effect also of taking away her means of annoying me,

and so I have enjoyed two blessed days of peace. After all, there is no reason to despair. Sympathy pours in to

me from all sides, and every one agrees that it is my devotion to science and the arduous nature of my

researches which have shaken my nervous system. I have had the kindest message from the council advising

me to travel abroad, and expressing the confident hope that I may be able to resume all my duties by the

beginning of the summer term. Nothing could be more flattering than their allusions to my career and to my

services to the university. It is only in misfortune that one can test one's own popularity. This creature may

April 29. Our sleepy little town has had a small sensation. The only knowledge of crime which we ever have

is when a rowdy undergraduate breaks a few lamps or comes to blows with a policeman. Last night, however,

there was an attempt made to breakinto the branch of the Bank of England, and we are all in a flutter in

Parkenson, the manager, is an intimate friend of mine, and I found him very much excited when I walked

round there after breakfast. Had the thieves broken into the countinghouse, they would still have had the

safes to reckon with, so that the defence was considerably stronger than the attack. Indeed, the latter does not

appear to have ever been very formidable. Two of the lower windows have marks as if a chisel or some such

instrument had been pushed under them to force them open. The police should have a good clue, for the

woodwork had been done with green paint only the day before, and from the smears it is evident that some

4.30 P. M. Ah, that accursed woman! That thrice accursed woman! Never mind! She shall not beat me! No,

she shall not! But, oh, the shedevil! She has taken my professorship. Now she would take my honor. Is there

nothing I can do against her, nothing save Ah, but, hard pushed as I am, I cannot bring myself to think

It was about an hour ago that I went into my bedroom, and was brushing my hair before the glass, when

suddenly my eyes lit upon something which left me so sick and cold that I sat down upon the edge of the bed

and began to cry. It is many a long year since I shed tears, but all my nerve was gone, and I could but sob and

sob in impotent grief and anger. There was my house jacket, the coat I usually wear after dinner, hanging on

its peg by the wardrobe, with the right sleeve thickly crusted from wrist to elbow with daubs of green paint.

So this was what she meant by another turn of the screw! She had made a public imbecile of me. Now she

would brand me as a criminal. This time she has failed. But how about the next? I dare not think of itand

Yes, this is the other turn of the screw. And this is also what she meant, no doubt, when she said that I had

not realized yet the power she has over me. I look back at my account of my conversation with her, and I see

how she declared that with a slight exertion of her will her subject would be conscious, and with a stronger

one unconscious. Last night I was unconscious. I could have sworn that I slept soundly in my bed without so

much as a dream. And yet those stains tell me that I dressed, made my way out, attempted to open the bank

windows, and returned. Was I observed? Is it possible that some one saw me do it and followed me home?

Ah, what a hell my life has become! I have no peace, no rest. But my patience is nearing its end.

10 P. M. I have cleaned my coat with turpentine. I do not think that any one could have seen me. It was with

my screwdriver that I made the marks. I found it all crusted with paint, and I have cleaned it. My head aches

as if it would burst, and I have taken five grains of antipyrine. If it were not for Agatha, I should have taken

May 3. Three quiet days. This hell fiend is like a cat with a mouse. She lets me loose only to pounce upon me

again. I am never so frightened as when every thing is still. My physical state is deplorable perpetual

I have heard from the Mardens that they will be back the day after tomorrow. I do not know whether I am

glad or sorry. They were safe in London. Once here they may be drawn into the miserable network in which I

am myself struggling. And I must tell them of it. I cannot marry Agatha so long as I know that I am not

responsible for my own actions. Yes, I must tell them, even if it brings every thing to an end between us.

Tonight is the university ball, and I must go. God knows I never felt less in the humor for festivity, but I

must not have it said that I am unfit to appear in public. If I am seen there, and have speech with some of the

elders of the university it will go a long way toward showing them that it would be unjust to take my chair

10 P. M. I have been to the ball. Charles Sadler and I went together, but I have come away before him. I shall

wait up for him, however, for, indeed, I fear to go to sleep these nights. He is a cheery, practical fellow, and a

chat with him will steady my nerves. On the whole, the evening was a great success. I talked to every one

who has influence, and I think that I made them realize that my chair is not vacant quite yet. The creature was

at the ballunable to dance, of course, but sitting with Mrs. Wilson. Again and again her eyes rested upon

me. They were almost the last things I saw before I left the room. Once, as I sat sideways to her, I watched

her, and saw that her gaze was following some one else. It was Sadler, who was dancing at the time with the

second Miss Thurston. To judge by her expression, it is well for him that he is not in her grip as I am. He

does not know the escape he has had. I think I hear his step in the street now, and I will go down and let him

May 4. Why did I break off in this way last night? I never went down stairs, after allat least, I have no

recollection of doing so. But, on the other hand, I cannot remember going to bed. One of my hands is greatly

swollen this morning, and yet I have no remembrance of injuring it yesterday. Otherwise, I am feeling all the

better for last night's festivity. But I cannot understand how it is that I did not meet Charles Sadler when I so

fully intended to do so. Is it possible My God, it is only too probable! Has she been leading me some

Midday. The thing has come to a crisis. My life is not worth living. But, if I am to die, then she shall come

also. I will not leave her behind, to drive some other man mad as she has me. No, I have come to the limit of

my endurance. She has made me as desperate and dangerous a man as walks the earth. God knows I have

never had the heart to hurt a fly, and yet, if I had my hands now upon that woman, she should never leave this

room alive. I shall see her this very day, and she shall learn what she has to expect from me.

I went to Sadler and found him, to my surprise, in bed. As I entered he sat up and turned a face toward me

"Why, Sadler, what has happened?" I cried, but my heart turned cold as I said it.

"Gilroy," he answered, mumbling with his swollen lips, "I have for some weeks been under the impression

that you are a madman. Now I know it, and that you are a dangerous one as well. If it were not that I am

unwilling to make a scandal in the college, you would now be in the hands of the police."

"I mean that as I opened the door last night you rushed out upon me, struck me with both your fists in the

face, knocked me down, kicked me furiously in the side, and left me lying almost unconscious in the street.

Yes, there it was, puffed up, with spongelike knuckles, as after some terrific blow. What could I do?

Though he put me down as a madman, I must tell him all. I sat by his bed and went over all my troubles from

the beginning. I poured them out with quivering hands and burning words which might have carried

conviction to the most sceptical. "She hates you and she hates me!" I cried. "She revenged herself last night

on both of us at once. She saw me leave the ball, and she must have seen you also. She knew how long it

would take you to reach home. Then she had but to use her wicked will. Ah, your bruised face is a small thing

He was struck by my story. That was evident. "Yes, yes, she watched me out of the room," he muttered. "She

is capable of it. But is it possible that she has really reduced you to this? What do you intend to do?"

"To stop it!" I cried. "I am perfectly desperate; I shall give her fair warning today, and the next time will be

"Rash!" I cried. "The only rash thing is that I should postpone it another hour." With that I rushed to my

room, and here I am on the eve of what may be the great crisis of my life. I shall start at once. I have gained

one thing today, for I have made one man, at least, realize the truth of this monstrous experience of mine.

And, if the worst should happen, this diary remains as a proof of the goad that has driven me.

Evening. When I came to Wilson's, I was shown up, and found that he was sitting with Miss Penclosa. For

half an hour I had to endure his fussy talk about his recent research into the exact nature of the spiritualistic

rap, while the creature and I sat in silence looking across the room at each other. I read a sinister amusement

in her eyes, and she must have seen hatred and menace in mine. I had almost despaired of having speech with

her when he was called from the room, and we were left for a few moments together.

"Well, Professor Gilroyor is it Mr. Gilroy?" said she, with that bitter smile of hers. "How is your friend

"You fiend!" I cried. "You have come to the end of your tricks now. I will have no more of them. Listen to

what I say." I strode across and shook her roughly by the shoulder "As sure as there is a God in heaven, I

swear that if you try another of your deviltries upon me I will have your life for it. Come what may, I will

"Accounts are not quite settled between us," said she, with a passion that equalled my own. "I can love, and I

can hate. You had your choice. You chose to spurn the first; now you must test the other. It will take a little

more to break your spirit, I see, but broken it shall be. Miss Marden comes back tomorrow, as I understand."

"What has that to do with you?" I cried. "It is a pollution that you should dare even to think of her. If I

She was frightened, I could see, though she tried to brazen it out. She read the black thought in my mind, and

"She is fortunate in having such a champion," said she. "He actually dares to threaten a lonely woman. I must

"There is no use talking," said I. "I only came here to tell you,and to tell you most solemnly,that your

next outrage upon me will be your last." With that, as I heard Wilson's step upon the stair, I walked from the

room. Ay, she may look venomous and deadly, but, for all that, she is beginning to see now that she has as

much to fear from me as I can have from her. Murder! It has an ugly sound. But you don't talk of murdering a

May 5. I met Agatha and her mother at the station at eleven o'clock. She is looking so bright, so happy, so

beautiful. And she was so overjoyed to see me. What have I done to deserve such love? I went back home

with them, and we lunched together. All the troubles seem in a moment to have been shredded back from my

life. She tells me that I am looking pale and worried and ill. The dear child puts it down to my loneliness and

the perfunctory attentions of a housekeeper. I pray that she may never know the truth! May the shadow, if

shadow there must be, lie ever black across my life and leave hers in the sunshine. I have just come back

from them, feeling a new man. With her by my side I think that I could show a bold face to any thing which

5 P. M. Now, let me try to be accurate. Let me try to say exactly how it occurred. It is fresh in my mind, and I

can set it down correctly, though it is not likely that the time will ever come when I shall forget the doings of

I had returned from the Mardens' after lunch, and was cutting some microscopic sections in my freezing

microtome, when in an instant I lost consciousness in the sudden hateful fashion which has become only too

When my senses came back to me I was sitting in a small chamber, very different from the one in which I had

been working. It was cosey and bright, with chintz covered settees, colored hangings, and a thousand pretty

little trifles upon the wall. A small ornamental clock ticked in front of me, and the hands pointed to halfpast

three. It was all quite familiar to me, and yet I stared about for a moment in a half dazed way until my eyes

fell upon a cabinet photograph of myself upon the top of the piano. On the other side stood one of Mrs.

But how came I there, and what did I want? A horrible sinking came to my heart. Had I been sent here on

some devilish errand? Had that errand already been done? Surely it must; otherwise, why should I be allowed

to come back to consciousness? Oh, the agony of that moment! What had I done? I sprang to my feet in my

despair, and as I did so a small glass bottle fell from my knees on to the carpet.

It was unbroken, and I picked it up. Outside was written "Sulphuric Acid. Fort." When I drew the round glass

stopper, a thick fume rose slowly up, and a pungent, choking smell pervaded the room. I recognized it as one

which I kept for chemical testing in my chambers. But why had I brought a bottle of vitriol into Agatha's

chamber? Was it not this thick, reeking liquid with which jealous women had been known to mar the beauty

of their rivals? My heart stood still as I held the bottle to the light. Thank God, it was full! No mischief had

been done as yet. But had Agatha come in a minute sooner, was it not certain that the hellish parasite within

me would have dashed the stuff into her Ah, it will not bear to be thought of! But it must have been for

that. Why else should I have brought it? At the thought of what I might have done my worn nerves broke

It was the sound of Agatha's voice and the rustle of her dress which restored me. I looked up, and saw her

"We must take you away to the country, Austin," she said. "You want rest and quiet. You look wretchedly

"Oh, it is nothing!" said I, trying to smile. "It was only a momentary weakness. I am all right again now."

"I am so sorry to keep you waiting. Poor boy, you must have been here quite half an hour! The vicar was in

the drawingroom, and, as I knew that you did not care for him, I thought it better that Jane should show you

"Why, what is the matter with you, Austin?" she asked, holding my arm as I staggered up from the chair.

"Why are you glad that the vicar stayed? And what is this little bottle in your hand?"

"Nothing," I cried, thrusting it into my pocket. "But I must go. I have something important to do."

"How stern you look, Austin! I have never seen your face like that. You are angry?"

"I came to ask you whether you would always love meno matter what I did, or what shadow might fall on

my name. Would you believe in me and trust me however black appearances might be against me?"

"Yes, I know that you would. What I do I shall do for you. I am driven to it. There is no other way out, my

The time for indecision was at an end. As long as the creature threatened my own prospects and my honor

there might be a question as to what I should do. But now, when Agathamy innocent Agathawas

endangered, my duty lay before me like a turnpike road. I had no weapon, but I never paused for that. What

weapon should I need, when I felt every muscle quivering with the strength of a frenzied man? I ran through

the streets, so set upon what I had to do that I was only dimly conscious of the faces of friends whom I met

dimly conscious also that Professor Wilson met me, running with equal precipitance in the opposite direction.

Breathless but resolute I reached the house and rang the bell. A white cheeked maid opened the door, and