The Parasite: A Story Page 10

class was crowded with students who came to see andhear what the eccentric professor would do or say next. I cannot gointo the detail of my humiliation. Oh, that devilish woman! There isno 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 ofa coming eclipse. Then as I felt the influence I would struggleagainst it, striving with clenched hands and beads of sweat upon mybrow to get the better of it, while the students, hearing my incoherentwords and watching my contortions, would roar with laughter at theantics of their professor. And then, when she had once fairly masteredme, out would come the most outrageous things--silly jokes, sentimentsas though I were proposing a toast, snatches of ballads, personal abuseeven against some member of my class. And then in a moment my brainwould clear again, and my lecture would proceed decorously to the end.No wonder that my conduct has been the talk of the colleges. No wonderthat the University Senate has been compelled to take official noticeof such a scandal. Oh, that devilish woman!

  And the most dreadful part of it all is my own loneliness. Here I sitin a commonplace English bow-window, looking out upon a commonplaceEnglish street with its garish 'buses and its lounging policeman, andbehind me there hangs a shadow which is out of all keeping with the ageand place. In the home of knowledge I am weighed down and tortured bya power of which science knows nothing. No magistrate would listen tome. No paper would discuss my case. No doctor would believe mysymptoms. My own most intimate friends would only look upon it as asign 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 for himself.

  She met me in the High Street yesterday evening and spoke to me. Itwas as well for her, perhaps, that it was not between the hedges of alonely country road. She asked me with her cold smile whether I hadbeen chastened yet. I did not deign to answer her. "We must tryanother turn of the screw;" said she. Have a care, my lady, have acare! I had her at my mercy once. Perhaps another chance may come.

  April 28. The suspension of my lectureship has had the effect also oftaking away her means of annoying me, and so I have enjoyed two blesseddays of peace. After all, there is no reason to despair. Sympathypours in to me from all sides, and every one agrees that it is mydevotion to science and the arduous nature of my researches which haveshaken my nervous system. I have had the kindest message from thecouncil advising me to travel abroad, and expressing the confident hopethat I may be able to resume all my duties by the beginning of thesummer term. Nothing could be more flattering than their allusions tomy career and to my services to the university. It is only inmisfortune that one can test one's own popularity. This creature mayweary of tormenting me, and then all may yet be well. May God grant it!

  April 29. Our sleepy little town has had a small sensation. The onlyknowledge of crime which we ever have is when a rowdy undergraduatebreaks a few lamps or comes to blows with a policeman. Last night,however, there was an attempt made to break-into the branch of the Bankof England, and we are all in a flutter in consequence.

  Parkenson, the manager, is an intimate friend of mine, and I found himvery much excited when I walked round there after breakfast. Had thethieves broken into the counting-house, they would still have had thesafes to reckon with, so that the defence was considerably strongerthan the attack. Indeed, the latter does not appear to have ever beenvery formidable. Two of the lower windows have marks as if a chisel orsome such instrument had been pushed under them to force them open.The police should have a good clue, for the wood-work had been donewith green paint only the day before, and from the smears it is evidentthat some of it has found its way on to the criminal's hands or clothes.

  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, theshe-devil! She has taken my professorship. Now she would take myhonor. Is there nothing I can do against her, nothing save---- Ah,but, hard pushed as I am, I cannot bring myself to think of that!

  It was about an hour ago that I went into my bedroom, and was brushingmy hair before the glass, when suddenly my eyes lit upon somethingwhich left me so sick and cold that I sat down upon the edge of the bedand began to cry. It is many a long year since I shed tears, but allmy nerve was gone, and I could but sob and sob in impotent grief andanger. There was my house jacket, the coat I usually wear afterdinner, hanging on its peg by the wardrobe, with the right sleevethickly crusted from wrist to elbow with daubs of green paint.

  So this was what she meant by another turn of the screw! She had madea public imbecile of me. Now she would brand me as a criminal. Thistime she has failed. But how about the next? I dare not think ofit--and of Agatha and my poor old mother! I wish that I were dead!

  Yes, this is the other turn of the screw. And this is also what shemeant, no doubt, when she said that I had not realized yet the powershe has over me. I look back at my account of my conversation withher, and I see how she declared that with a slight exertion of her willher subject would be conscious, and with a stronger one unconscious.Last night I was unconscious. I could have sworn that I slept soundlyin my bed without so much as a dream. And yet those stains tell methat 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 doit and followed me home? Ah, what a hell my life has become! I haveno peace, no rest. But my patience is nearing its end.

  10 P. M. I have cleaned my coat with turpentine. I do not think thatany one could have seen me. It was with my screw-driver that I madethe 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 ofantipyrine. If it were not for Agatha, I should have taken fifty andhad an end of it.

  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 sofrightened as when every thing is still. My physical state isdeplorable--perpetual hiccough and ptosis of the left eyelid.

  I have heard from the Mardens that they will be back the day afterto-morrow. I do not know whether I am glad or sorry. They were safein London. Once here they may be drawn into the miserable network inwhich I am myself struggling. And I must tell them of it. I cannotmarry Agatha so long as I know that I am not responsible for my ownactions. Yes, I must tell them, even if it brings every thing to anend between us.

  To-night is the university ball, and I must go. God knows I never feltless in the humor for festivity, but I must not have it said that I amunfit to appear in public. If I am seen there, and have speech withsome of the elders of the university it will go a long way towardshowing them that it would be unjust to take my chair away from me.

  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 thewhole, the evening was a great success. I talked to every one who hasinfluence, and I think that I made them realize that my chair is notvacant quite yet. The creature was at the ball--unable to dance, ofcourse, but sitting with Mrs. Wilson. Again and again her eyes restedupon me. They were almost the last things I saw before I left theroom. Once, as I sat sideways to her, I watched her, and saw that hergaze was following some one else. It was Sadler, who was dancing atthe time with the second Miss Thurston. To judge by her expression, itis well for him that he is not in her grip as I am. He does not knowthe escape he has had. I think I hear his step in the street now, andI will go down and let him in. If he will----

  May 4. Why did I break off in this way last night? I never went downstairs, after all--at least, I have no recollection of doing so. But,on the other hand, I cannot remember going to bed. One of my hands isgreatly swollen this morning, and yet I have no remembrance of injuringit yesterday. Otherwise, I a
m feeling all the better for last night'sfestivity. But I cannot understand how it is that I did not meetCharles 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 devil'sdance again? I will go down to Sadler and ask him.

  Mid-day. 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 herbehind, to drive some other man mad as she has me. No, I have come tothe limit of my endurance. She has made me as desperate and dangerousa man as walks the earth. God knows I have never had the heart to hurta fly, and yet, if I had my hands now upon that woman, she should neverleave this room alive. I shall see her this very day, and she shalllearn what she has to expect from me.

  I went to Sadler and found him, to my surprise, in bed. As I enteredhe sat up and turned a face toward me which sickened me as I looked atit.

  "Why, Sadler, what has happened?" I