The Washington herald., 1908-05-26
THE SOUL OF CROESUS
BY GERALD VILLIERS-STUART.
by Gerald

amounting 10 telepathy-which he shares
with tho telegraph clerk-for picking your
true meaning from chaos OF sounds
and scratches. drove Dare 10 the very
hotel he wanted. where the bedroom and
sitting-room he had been in the habit OF
occupying when IA town were at his serv-
ice. II was one OF those small. dingy,
comfortable hotels. where the proprietor
is not a limited company. but a human
being Ike his guests. and the walters
are not labeled Made in Germany" The
proprietor had missed Mr.. Dare lately,
regretted 70 see he was not looking we'll
been oyerworking at college. no doubt.
Fabian Dare made some incoherent reply.
The man semed TO know him intimately.
whereas he had no recollection Of the
man at all. He tried TO think backwards.
and ran I'D against a blank wall Mum
bling some words which he hoped were
In keeping with what the hotel proprietor
was saying. he was conducted to his
room.
He wanted TO be left alone. TO batter
at that blank wall. Il is a terrible feel
ing 10 suddenly realize that we have been
deprived Of our past. for OF that is our
(
created. The instinct 20 preserve it is
the instinct Of self-preservation at IFS
strongest. In the broVn-hued sitting
room. with his eyes fixed on the hanging
prisms Of the glass candelabra which
bediZened the white mantelpiece, Fabian
Dare sat through that summer evening.
and fought for his past. clawing at the
blank wall like a prisoner burrOwing for
freedom.
He took out his roll Of notes and count
ed them over and over, examining each
one carefully. as though it would give
him Clew Against the chaos OF his
mind the somber figure and mocking face
OF Abdul Won Tarsenheim looked out with
/ the awful distinetness OF a fend invoked
on dark room. AS the actual Won Tar
senheim acceded. Fabian began 10 think
Of him as the devil, 20 whom he had sold
himself-the notes as the price OF his
soul Then he took out his diary. At
first II only seemed like a notebook
picked up in the street; the emotions
recorded in II the emotions Of a stranger.
But In the end. with the help of the
diary. his brain began 10 piece together
the scattered mosaics into a pattern OF
his past He remembered his life at Ok
ford, his desire to express all the thoughts
and dreams which were fermenting in
him through the medium OF the pulpit.
Then the crashing around him OF the
world which had seemed so secure from
his sheltered corner Of it,
Then the hard realities Of the real
world. the awful discovery that he could
not Of himself get n foothold on its slip
perry rocks. His diary guided him up %
the moment when he had entered the
room with the glass case, and seen the
man in the motor mask-the man who
seemed 10 embody the oppressive forces
which had dragged him 10 his doom.
He remembered that he had been given
a chance 20 escape then a girl coming
In whose eyes had pleaded with his that
he should escape, but only had the con-
trary effect Of chaining him TO the money
he had taken. She had represented some
thing wonderful, something which would
make ten thousand pounds and life worth
owning
He remembered entering the glass case
and a great darkness settling down on
him, the darkness which was still there,
like q fathomless ehasm, across which
he must look at his past.
Then life beginning on this side Of the
chasm. with feeling that he had wrong
ed some one terribly. Why?-and why had
he thrown himself on his knees at the
feet OF the girl for whom he had sold
himself. only to find that she no longer
had any meaning for him-that he had
been. somehow, cheated OF the real price
OF his soul? What had been done
to him during those hours OF darkness
that made him feel such a stranger 20
himself? His brain seemed to belong to
him. but his personality felt like a gar
ment he had put on by mistake. gar
ment which nearly fitted him, but not
quite. Puzzling. puzzling, puzzling, his
weary brain went 10 sleep.
The unconscious cerebration which
takes place in sleep had cleared his brain