The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1906-09-12
Fourth Installmentl
By e. T. BENSON.
Copyright 1906 BY E. F. Benson.
All Rights Reserved


seemed to him the proper normal level
: of life. Already, too, he was beginning
to be dishonest with himself, just as
yesterday he had been dishonest with
Maud; and even as he took it he told
had not Mr.. Cochran been dining with
them. It was impossible to send him
away five minutes after dinner: it was
equally impossible that he should spend
the evening alone with Maud. And tho
that was true, it was not the essential
truth
He took the glass in his hand, wish
as the Gagged beast that has been roar
: ing for it's food sits snarling when it
I has got it before it begins to assuage
1ts sshunger=pangs, to prolong for mo-
ment more this stabbing pain,
and the anticipation Of It's ceas-
ing, and he sat down in an easy chair,
putting up his feet on another, to make
drank it. His room looked northwest,
and tho it was nearly 9 O'Clock, the
sum in this northern latitude still .shone
in at his window, bathing him in its
crystal light. Then he drank.
!, Inside his head during the last. hour
he felt as it sort Of piston-rod had
been NAL king regular firm strokes on to
end OF the piston rod was sometimes
fitted with blunt hammer, so that it
ssquashed. the seat of pain, sometimes
with sharp needle-point that went
deeper and seemed to penetrate and
reach the very center Of s. his being.
Then perhaps the piston:rod would
cease for a while, and an iron toothed
rusty rake collected the smashed frag-
ments- of nerve together again, so that
the hammer should not leave any Of the
scattered pieces unpulverized, and the
"a kes, made q. neat.pi!e ofsZthe raw tor
tured bits, 50 that they might receive
the blows Of the blunt hammer again.
This raking back (the image was so
vivid to him that he almost believed it
actually oecurred) was about the worst
part: he knew that the steady squash
ing hammer was coming on, again.
But now, a few minutes only after
he had taken his dose, tho the hammer
did not cease to fall, its blows ceased
to produce pain; they produced instead
a warm, tingling sensation like that
which one feels when one spreads out
ICY fingers to friendly blaze. And
that tingling warmth spread slowly
and flooded his body and limbs to toe
and fngertip. He forgot what pain
meant, knowing only what the oncom-
ing of this absolute physical bliss was
like. The sun that still shone in at his
windows burned with a ruddier and
more vivid light, the glory of it was
soft but incredibly brilliant, and to
his quickened sense of smell the air
that came in thru the open windows was
redolent with the honey scent Of warm
heather. The blind had been a little
drawn down over the top Of the win
dow-the tap Of it tapping against the
lamb-but whereas, when he was dress
ing for dinner an hour ago: it was
fretting and ting thing, it now
seemed to him to give out .f1ute-like
vibrating notes. The present moment.
his own sensations were all quickened
to the vividness Of dream life, while it
was but vaguely that he remembered
that downstairs Maud was sitting with
had come to dinner; but with the gates
Of Paradise here upstairs flung wide to
receive him he could not fix his mind
on him sufficiently to recall much about
him. No doubt if he made an effort he
could remember what he was like and
what his name was, but an effort was
the one thing he certainly would not
make, since it might destroy or disturb
this perfect equilibrium on which he
was balanced. Besides, there was really
no reason, 50 i now appeared, why he
< SuOuu 20 uUWUStS1lI8. - MAUD ana ler
friend would talk about fishing for
9; while and then he ali, yes, Walter
Cochran-wou 90 away. They would
both easily understand his non-appear-
ance. He had suffered tortures; it was
absurd not to grant him this little COM
pensati0n.
Then for a moment the habit and
: breeding Of his whole life ierked him
to his feet, in order to rejOin them.
But the drug he had taken was more
powerful than they; it told him that
this ecstacy Of consciousness would be
the presence Of others He would have,
to some extent, to attend to them, in
stead Of being absorbed in the exq,1is-
iteness of his own sensat ions. And
those sensations had nothing whatever