The Crack of Doom | Page 3

to him:
"I have been thinking about that Society of yours. I mean to join it."
"I am very glad," he replied. "You will find it a new sensation, quite
outside the beaten track, which you know so well."
There was a shade of half-kindly contempt in his voice, which missed
me at the moment. I answered gaily, knowing that he would not be
offended by what was said in jest:
"I am sure I shall. If all the members are as mad as yourself, it will be
the most interesting experience outside Bedlam that any man could
wish for."
I had a foretaste of that interest soon.
As Miss Brande was walking to the gangway, a lamp shone full upon
her gypsy face. The blue-black hair, the dark eyes, and a deep red rose
she wore in her bonnet, seemed to me an exquisite arrangement of
harmonious colour. And the thought flashed into my mind very vividly,
however trivial it may seem here, when written down in cold words:
"The queen of women, and the queen of flowers." That is not precisely
how my thought ran, but I cannot describe it better. The finer subtleties
of the brain do not bear well the daylight of language.
Brande drew her back and whispered to her Then the sweet face, now
slightly flushed, was turned to me again.
"Oh, thank you for that pretty thought," she said with a pleasant smile.
"You are too nattering. The 'queen of flowers' is very true, but the
'queen of women!' Oh, no!" She made a graceful gesture of dissent, and

passed down the gangway.
As the tender disappeared into the darkness, a tiny scrap of lace waved,
and I knew vaguely that she was thinking of me. But how she read my
thought so exactly I could not tell.
That knowledge it has been my fate to gain.
CHAPTER II.
A STRANGE EXPERIMENT.
Soon after my arrival in London, I called on Brande, at the address he
had given me in Brook Street. He received me with the pleasant
affability which a man of the world easily assumes, and his apology for
being unable to pass the evening with me in his own house was a model
of social style. The difficulty in the way was practically an
impossibility. His Society had a meeting on that evening, and it was
imperative that he should be present.
"Why not come yourself?" he said. "It is what we might call a guest
night. That is, visitors, if friends of members, are admitted, and as this
privilege may not be again accorded to outsiders, you ought to come
before you decide finally to join us. I must go now, but Natalie" (he did
not say "Miss Brande") "will entertain you and bring you to the hall. It
is very near--in Hanover Square."
"I shall be very glad indeed to bring Miss Brande to the hall," I
answered, changing the sentence in order to correct Brande's too
patronising phrase.
"The same thing in different words, is it not? If you prefer it that way,
please have it so." His imperturbability was unaffected.
Miss Brande here entered the room. Her brother, with a word of
renewed apology, left us, and presently I saw him cross the street and
hail a passing hansom.

"You must not blame him for running off," Miss Brande said. "He has
much to think of, and the Society depends almost wholly on himself."
I stammered out that I did not blame him at all, and indeed my
disclaimer was absolutely true. Brande could not have pleased me
better than he had done by relieving us of his company.
Miss Brande made tea, which I pretended to enjoy in the hope of
pleasing her. Over this we talked more like old and well proven friends
than mere acquaintances of ten days' standing. Just once or twice the
mysterious chord which marred the girl's charming conversation was
touched. She immediately changed the subject on observing my distress.
I say distress, for a weaker word would not fittingly describe the
emotion I felt whenever she blundered into the pseudo-scientific
nonsense which was her brother's favourite affectation. At least, it
seemed nonsense to me. I could not well foresee then that the theses
which appeared to be mere theoretical absurdities, would ever be
proven--as they have been--very terrible realities. On subjects of
ordinary educational interest my hostess displayed such full knowledge
of the question and ease in dealing with it, that I listened, fascinated, as
long as she chose to continue speaking. It was a novel and delightful
experience to hear a girl as handsome as a pictorial masterpiece, and
dressed like a court beauty, discourse with the knowledge, and in the
language, of the oldest philosopher. But this was only