Classic Audiobook Collection - The Man Who Lost Himself by H. De Vere Stacpoole ~ Full Audiobook [comedy]

Episode Date: January 19, 2023

The Man Who Lost Himself by H. De Vere Stacpoole audiobook. Genre: comedy When Victor Jones, a hard-luck businessman from Philadelphia, arrives in London chasing a contract that could save his future, he instead finds himself broke, cornered by creditors, and wondering who he has become. One desperate drink at a hotel bar brings an unbelievable encounter: a charismatic English aristocrat, Rochester, who looks exactly like Victor. A night of reckless camaraderie turns into a waking nightmare when Victor finds himself in a grand house, addressed as the Earl of Rochester by servants who will not accept any explanation. Suddenly Victor is living another man's life - complete with money, influence, and a reputation tangled in old scandals, strained relationships, and dangerous expectations. As London society closes in and every word risks exposure, Victor must navigate a world of titles and traps while trying to reclaim his own name and conscience. Part satire of class and manners, part breathless chase, The Man Who Lost Himself follows a decent man pushed into an indecent masquerade, asking how much of identity is choice, and how much is simply the role others insist you play. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:08:39) Chapter 02 (00:15:59) Chapter 03 (00:19:00) Chapter 04 (00:52:20) Chapter 05 (00:58:04) Chapter 06 (01:11:05) Chapter 07 (01:27:12) Chapter 08 (01:50:09) Chapter 09 (02:07:52) Chapter 10 (02:23:18) Chapter 11 (02:41:06) Chapter 12 (03:08:10) Chapter 13 (03:12:23) Chapter 14 (03:21:48) Chapter 15 (03:30:49) Chapter 16 (03:51:03) Chapter 17 (04:08:52) Chapter 18 (04:18:07) Chapter 19 (04:44:18) Chapter 20 (05:22:58) Chapter 21 (05:43:59) Chapter 22 (06:01:06) Chapter 23 (06:14:05) Chapter 24 (06:21:22) Chapter 25 (06:32:58) Chapter 26 (07:12:53) Chapter 27 (07:30:24) Chapter 28 (07:45:36) Chapter 29 (07:55:18) Chapter 30 (08:04:33) Chapter 31 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

the man who lost himself by h devere stackpool part one chapter one jones it was the first of june and victor jones of philadelphia was seated in the lounge of the sevoix hotel london defeated in his first really great battle with the thing we call life though of philadelphia jones was not an american nor had he anything of the american accent. Australian-born, he had started life in a bank at Melbourne, gone to India for a trading house, started for himself, failed, and becoming a rolling stone. Philadelphia was his last halt. With no financial foundation, Victor and a Philadelphia gentleman had competed for a contract to supply the British government with harveyized steel struts, bolts, and girders. He had come over to London to press the business. He had interviewed men in brass hats, slow-moving men,

who had turned him over to slower-moving men. The Stringer Company, for so he dubbed himself and Aaron Stringer, who had financed him for the journey, had wasted three weeks on the business, and this morning their tender had been rejected. Hardman's, the Pittsburgh people, had got the order. it was a nasty blow if he and stringer could have secured the contract they could have carried it through all right stringer would have put the thing in the hands of lawrenson of philadelphia and their commission would have been enormous a stroke of the british government's pen would have filled their pockets failing that they were bankrupt at least jones was and justifiably you will say conceivably you will say conceitably

that the whole business was a gigantic piece of bluff well maybe yet on behalf of this bluffer i would put it forward that he had risked everything on one deal and that this was no little failure of his but a disaster naked and complete he had less than ten pounds in his pocket and he owed money at the savoy you see he had reckoned on doing all his business in a week and if it failed an idea which he scarcely entertained on getting back third class to the states he had not reckoned on the terrible expenses of london or the three weeks delay yesterday he had sent a cable to stringer for funds and he had got as a reply am waiting news of contract stringer was that sort of man he was thinking about stringer now as he sat watching the game as he sat watching the game yeses of the Savoy, Americans and English, well-to-do people with no money worries, so he fancied. He was thinking about Stringer and his own position, with less than ten pounds in his pocket, a hotel bill unreceded, and three thousand miles of deep water between himself and Philadelphia. Jones was twenty-four years of age. He looked thirty.

A serious-faced, cadaverous individual, whom, given three guesses, you would have judged to be a Scotch-free Kirk minister in Mufti, an actor in the melodramatic line, a food crank. These being the three most serious occupations in the world. In reality, he had started life, as before said, in a bank, educated himself in mathematics and higher commercial methods, by correspondence and aiming to be a millionaire had left the bank and struck out for himself in the great tumbling ocean of business he had glimpsed the truth seen the fact that the art of life is not so much to work oneself as to make other people work for one to convert by one's own mental energy the bodily energy of others into products or actions had this government contract come off he would have and to his own profit set a thousand hammers swinging a dozen steel mills rolling twenty ships lading hammers mills and ships he had never seen never would see that is the magic of business and when you behold roaring towns and humming wharves when you read of raging battles you see and read of the work of a comparatively small number of men gentlemen who wear frock-coats who have never handled a bail or carried a gun or steered a ship with their own hands magicians

he ordered a whisky and soda from a passing attendant to help him think some more about stringer and his own awful position and was taking the glass from the salver when a very well-dressed man of his own age and build who had entered by the passage leading up from the american bar drew his attention this man's face seemed quite familiar to him so much so that he started in his chair as though about to rise and greet him the stranger also seemed for a second under the same obsession but only for a second he made a half pause and then passed on becoming lost to sight beyond the palm trees at the entrance jones leaned back in his chair now where did i see that guy before asked he of himself where on earth have i met him and he recognized me where in the where in the where in the where in the his memory vaguely and vainly searching for the name to go with that face was at fault he finished his whisky and soda and rose and then strolled off not heeding much in what direction till he reached the book and newspaper stand where he paused to inspect the wares turning over the pages of the latest bestseller without imbibing a word of the text then he found himself downstairs in the American bar with a champagne cocktail before him Jones was an abstemious man as a rule but he had a high-strung nervous

system and it had been worked up the unaccustomed whiskey and soda had taken him in its charge comforting him and conducting his steps and now the barkeeper a chance cheery person, combined with the champagne cocktail, the cheeriest of drinks, so raised his spirits and warmed his optimism, that having finished his glass, he pushed it across the counter and said, Give me another! At this moment, a gentleman who had just entered the bar came up to the counter, placed half a crown upon it, and was served by the assistant barkeeper with the glass of sherry. Jones, turning, found himself face to face with the stranger whom he had seen in the lounge,

the stranger whose face he knew, but whose name he could not remember in the least. Jones was a direct person, used to travel, and the forming of chance acquaintanceships. He did not hang back. "'Excuse me,' said he, "'I saw you in the lounge, and I'm sure I've met you, somewhere or another, but I can't place you. End of Chapter 1. Recording by Roger Maline.

Chapter 2 of The Man Who Lost Himself This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. The Man Who Lost Himself by H. Devere Stackpool. Chapter 2. The Stranger The Stranger, taking his change from the assistant bartender. laughed.

Yes, said he. You have seen me before. Often, I should think. Do you mean to say you don't know where? Nope, said Jones. He had acquired a few American idioms. I'm clear out of my reckoning. Are you an American?

No, I'm English, replied the other. This is very curious. You don't recognize me. well well well let's sit down and have a talk maybe recollection will come to you give it time it is easier to think sitting down than standing up now as jones turned to take his seat at the table indicated by the stranger he noticed that the barkeeper and his assistant were looking at him as though he had suddenly become an object of more than ordinary interest the subtlety of human facial expression stands unchallenged and the faces of these persons conveyed the impression to jones that the interest he had suddenly evoked in their minds had in it a link with the humorous when he looked again however having taken his seat they were both washing glasses with the solemnity of undertakers i thought those guys were laughing at me said jones seems i was wrong and all the better for them well now let's get to the bottom of this tangle who are you anyway just a friend replied the other i'll tell you my name presently only i want you to think it out for yourself talk about yourself and then maybe you'll arrive at it who are you

me cried jones i'm victor jones of philadelphia i'm the partner of a skunk by name of stringer i'm the victim of a british government that doesn't know the difference between tin plate and harveyized steel i'm a man on the rocks the floodgates of his wrath were opened and everything came out including the fact of his own desperate position when he had finished he had finished The only remark of the stranger was, "'Have another!' "'Not on your life,' cried Jones. "'I ought to be making tracks for the council "'or somewhere to get my passage back to the States. "'Well, I don't know.

"'No, no more cocktails. "'I'll have a sherry, same as you.' "'The sherry having been dispatched, "'the stranger rose, "'refusing a return drink just at that moment. come into the lounge with me said he i want to tell you something i can't tell you here they passed up the stairs the stranger leading the way jones following slightly confused in his mind but full of warmth at his heart and with a buoyancy of spirit beyond experience stringer was forgotten the british government was forgotten contracts hotel bills steerage journeys to the states all these were forgotten the warmth the sumptuous rooms and the golden lamps of the savoy were sufficient for the moment and as he sank into an easy-chair and lit us

cigarette even his interest in the stranger and what he had to say was for a moment dimmed and diminished by the fumes that filled his brain and the ease that lapped his senses what i have to say is this said the stranger leaning forward in his chair when i saw you here some time ago i recognized you at once as a person i knew but as you put it i could not place you but when i got into the main-house but when i got into the main-house hall a mirror at once told me you are to put it frankly my twin image i beg your pardon said jones the word image shattering his complacency your twin which do you say image likeness counterpart i mean no offence turn around and glance at that mirror behind you jones did and saw the strange and saw the strange and the stranger was himself both men belonged to a fairly common type but the likeness went far beyond that they were identical the same hair and color of hair the same features shape of head ears and color of eyes the same serious expression of countenance absolute likeness between two human beings is almost as rare as absolute likeness between two human beings is almost as absolute likeness between two pebbles on a beach yet it occurs as in the case of M de Joville and others well known and confirmed and when i say absolute likeness I mean likeness so complete that a close acquaintance cannot distinguish the difference between the duplicates when nature does a trick like this she does it thoroughly for it has been noticed but more especially in the case of twins the likeness the likeness

includes the voice, or at least its timber, the thyroid cartilage and vocal cords following the mysterious law that rules the duplication. Jones's voice, and the voice of the stranger, might have been the same as far as pitch and timber were concerned. The only difference was in the accent, and that was slight. "'Well, I'm—' said Jones.' He turned to the other. and then back to the mirror. Extraordinary, isn't it? said the other.

I don't know whether I ought to apologize to you or you to me. My name is Rochester. Jones turned from the mirror. The two champagne cocktails, the whiskey and the sherry, were accommodating his unaccustomed brain to support this most unaccustomed situation. The things seemed to him radiantly humorous, yet if he had known it, there was very little humor in the matter. We must celebrate this, said Jones, calling an attendant

and giving him explicit orders as to the means. End of Chapter 2, recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 3 of the man who lost himself. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h devere stackpool chapter three dinner and after a small bottle of bolinger was the means and the celebration was mostly done by jones for it came about that this stranger rochester whilst drinking little himself managed by some method to keep up in gaiety and in consequence of mind with the other though every now and then he would fall away from the point as a ship without a steersman falls away from the wind and lapse for a moment into what an acute observer might have deemed to be the fundamental dejection of his real nature however these lapses were only momentary and did not interfere at all with the gay spirits of his companion who having found a friend in the midst of the loneliness of london and his twin image in the person of that friend

was now pouring out his heart on every sort of subject always returning and with the regularity of a pendulum to the fact of the likeness and the same question and statement what's this your name rochester well pom my soul this beats me presently the bolinger finished jones found himself outside the savoy with this new-found friend walking in the gaslit strand and then, without any transition rememberable, he found himself seated at dinner in a private room of a French restaurant in Soho. Afterwards, he could remember parts of that dinner quite distinctly. He could remember the chicken and salad and a rum omelet, at which he had laughed because it was on fire. He could remember Rochester's gaiety,

and a practical joke of some sort played on the waiter by Rochester, ending in smashed plates. He could remember remonstrating with the latter over his wild conduct. These things he could remember afterwards, and also a few others, a place like heaven, which was the Leicester lounge, and a place like the other place which was Leicester Square. A quarrel with a stranger, about what he could not tell, a taxi-cab, in which he was seated listening to Rochester's voice, giving directions to the driver, minute directions as to where he, Jones, was to be driven, a lamp-lit hall, and stairs up which he was being led. Nothing more.

End of Chapter 3. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 4 of The Man Who Lost Himself This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. the man who lost himself by h devere stackpool chapter four carlton house terrace he awoke from sleep in bed in the dark with his mind clear as crystal and hot shame clutching at his throat rochester was the first recollection that came to him and it was a recollection tinged with evil he felt like a man who had supped with the devil led by rochester he had made a fool of himself he had made a brute of himself how would he face the hotel people and what had he done with the last of his money these thoughts held him motionless for a few terrific moments then he clapped his hand to his unfortunate head turned on his side and lay gazing into the darkness it had all come back to him clearly

rochester's wild conduct the dinner the smashed plates the quarrel he was afraid to get up and search in his pockets he guessed their condition he occupied himself instead trying to imagine what would become of him without money and without friends in this wilderness of london with ten pounds he might have done something without what could he do nothing unless it were manual labor and he did not know where to look for that then rochester never from his mind came more fully before him that likeness was it real or only a delusion of alcohol and what else had rochester done he seemed mad enough to have done anything plum crazy would he be held accountable for rochester's deeds he was fighting with this question when a clock began to strike in the darkness and close to the bed nine delicate and silvery strokes that brought a sudden sweat upon the forehead of jones he was not in his room at the savoy there was no clock in the savoy bedroom and no clock in any hotel ever spoke in tones like these on the sound as if from a passage outside he heard a voice took all his money and sent him home in another chap's clothes then came the sound of a soft step crossing the carpet the sound of curtain rings moving then a blind up shervled letting the light of day upon a room never before seen by jones a jacobian bedroom severe but exquisite in every detail

the man who had pulled the blind string and whose powerful profile was silhouetted against the light showed to the sun a face highly but evenly colored as though by the gentle painting of old port wine through a long series of years and ancestors the typical color of the old-fashioned english judge bishop and butler he was attired in a black morning coat and his whole countenance make build and appearance had something grave and archipiscopal most holding to the eye and imagination it terrified jones who breathing now as though asleep watched through closed eyelids whilst the apparition with pursed lips dealt with the blind of the other window this done it passed to the door conferred in muted tones with some unseen person and returned bearing in its hands a porcelain early morning tea service having placed this on the table by the bed the apparition vanished closing the door closing the door Jones sat up and looked around him. His clothes had disappeared. He always hung his trousers on the bedpost at the end of his bed, and placed his other things on a chair.

But trousers or other things were nowhere visible. They had been spirited away. It was at this moment that he noticed the gorgeous silk pajamas he had got on. He held out his arm and looked at the texture and pattern. then in a flash came comfort and understanding he was in rochester's house rochester must have sent him here last night that apparition was rochester's man-servant the vision of rochester turned from an evil spirit to an angel and filled with a warm sensation of friendliness towards the said rochester he was in the act of pouring out a cup of tea when the words he had heard spoken in the passage outside came back to him took all his money and sent him home in another chap's clothes what did that mean he finished pouring out the tea and drank it there was thin bread and butter on a plate, but he disregarded it.

Whose money had been taken, and who had been sent home in another chap's clothes? Did those words apply to him or to Rochester? Had Rochester been robbed? Might he, Jones, be held accountable? A deep uneasiness and a passionate desire for his garments, begotten of these queries, brought him out of bed and onto the floor. he came to the nearer window and looked out the window gave upon the green park a cheerful view beneath the sky of a perfect summer's morning he turned from the window and crossing the room opened the door through which the apparition had vanished a thickly carpeted corridor lay outside a corridor silent as the hypogeum of the apis secretive gorgeous with tasseled silk curtains and hanging lamps. Jones judged these lamps to be of silver and worth a thousand dollars apiece.

He had read the Arabian nights when a boy, and with a waft now from the Garden of Aladdin came a vague something stirring his senses and disturbing his practical nature. He wanted his clothes. This silent gorgeousness had raised the desire for his garments to a passion. He wanted to get into his boots and face the world and face the worst. Swinging lamps of silver, soft carpets, silken curtains, only serve to heighten his sensitiveness as to his apparel and whole position. He came back into the room. His anger was beginning to rise, the nervous anger of a man who has made a fool of himself, upon whom a jest is being played, and who finds himself in a false position. Seeing an electric button by the fireplace, he went to it and pressed it twice,

hard. Then he opened the second door of the room and found a bathroom. A Pompeian bathroom with tassolated floor, marble walls and marble ceiling. The bath was sunk in the floor. Across hot water pipes, plated with silver, hung towels of huckaback, white towels with cardinal, red fringes. Here, too, most unpumpayan, stood a wonderful dressing-table. One solid slab of glass, with razors set out, manicure instruments, brushes, powder-pots, scent bottles. Jones came into this place, walked round it like a cat in a strange larder, gauged to the depth of the bath, glanced at the things on the table, and was in the act of picking up one of the manic-a-cony-a-talleled. here implements, when a sound from the bedroom drew his attention. Someone was moving about there,

someone who seemed altering the position of chairs and arranging things. He judged it to be the servant who had answered the bell. He considered that it was better to have the thing out now and have done with it. He wanted a full explanation, and bravely, but with the feelings of a man who was entering a dental parlor, he came to the bathroom door. a pale-faced agile-looking young man with glossy black hair a young man in a sleeved waistcoat a young man carrying a shirt and a set of pink silk undergarments over his left arm was in the act of placing a pair of patent leather boots with kid tops upon the floor a gorgeous dressing-gown lay upon the bed it had evidently been placed there by the agile one jones had intended to ask explanations that intention shriveled somehow in the act of speech what he uttered was a very mildly framed request er can i have my clothes please said jones yes my lord replied the other i am placing them out the instantaneous anger raised by the patent fact that he was being guided by the second apparition was as instantly checked by the recollection of rochester here was another practical joke

this house was evidently rochester's the whole thing was plain well he would show that tricky spirit how he could take a joke and turn it on the maker like brer rabbit he determined to lie low he withdrew into the bathroom and sat down in the rush-bottomed chair by the table his temper coiled and ready to fly out like a spring he was seated like this curling his toes and nursing his resolve, when the agile one, with an absolute gravity that disarmed all anger, entered with the dressing-gown. He stood holding it up, and Jones, rising, put it on. Then the A.O. Filled the bath, trying the temperature with the thermometer, and so absorbed in his business that he might have been alone. The bath filled, he left the room, closing the door. he had thrown some crystals into the water scenting it with a perfume fragrant and refreshing the temperature was just right and as jones plunged and wallowed and lay half floating supporting himself by the silver-plated rails arranged for that purpose the idea came to him that if the practical joke were to continue as pleasantly as it had begun he for one would not grumble

soothed by the warmth his mind took a clearer view of things if this were a jest of rochester's as most certainly it was where lay the heart of it every joke has its core and the core of this one was most evidently the lightness between himself and rochester if rochester were a lord and if this were his house and if rochester had sent him jones home like a bundle of goods then the extraordinary likeness would perhaps deceive the servants and maybe other people as well that would be a good joke promising all sorts of funny development only it was not a joke that any man of self-respect would play but rochester from those vague recollections of his antics did not seem burdened with self-respect he seemed in his latter developments crazy enough for anything. If he had done this, then the servants were not in the business. They would be under the delusion

that he, Jones, was Rochester, doped and robbed, and dressed in another man's clothes and sent home. Rochester, turning up later in the morning, would have a fine feast of humor to sit down to. This seemed plain.

The born practical joker coming on his own twin image could not resist making use of it. This explanation cleared the situation, but it did not make it a comfortable one. If the servants discovered the imposition before the arrival of Rochester, things would be unpleasant.

He must act warily, get downstairs and escape from the place as soon as possible. Later on he would settle with Rochester. The servants, if they were not partners in the judge, had taken him on his face value. His voice had evidently not betrayed him. He felt sure on this point. He left the bath, and, drying himself, donned the dressing-gown. Toothpaste and a toothbrush stood on a glass tray by a little basin furnished with hot and cold water taps. And now, so strangely are men constituted, the main facts of his position were dwarfed for a second by the considerable. that he had no toothbrush of his own.

Just that little thing brought his energies to a focus and his growing irritation. He opened the bedroom door. The glossy-haired one was putting links in the sleeves of a shirt. Get me a toothbrush, a new one, said Jones, brusquely, almost brutally. Get it quick! Yes, my lord! He dropped the shirt and left the room somewhere. swiftly, but not hurriedly, taking care to close the door softly behind him.

It was the first indication to Jones of a method so complete and a mechanism so perfectly constituted that jolts were all but eliminated. I believe if I'd asked that guy for an elephant, he said to himself, he'd have acted just the same. Do they keep a drug store on the premises? They evidently kept a store of toothbrushes. for in less than a minute and a half expedition had returned with the tooth-brush on a little lacquered tray now to a man accustomed to dress himself it comes as a shock to have his underpants held out for him to get into as though he were a little boy this happened to jones and they were pink silk a pair of sub-fuss colored trousers creased and looking absolutely new were presented to him in the same manner he was allowed to put on his own socks silk and never worn before but he was not allowed to put on his own boots the perfect valet did that kneeling before him shoehorn and button-hook in hand

having inducted him into a pink silk under vest and a soft pleated shirt with plain gold links in the sleeves each button of the said links having in its centre a small black pearl a collar and a collar and a subfus colored silk tie were added to him also a black morning vest and a black morning coat with rather broad braid at the edges a handkerchief of pure white cambric with a tiny monogram also in white was then shaken out and presented then his valet intent silent and seeming to move by clockwork passed to a table on which stood a small oak cabinet opening the cabinet he took from it and placed on the table a watch and chain his duties were now finished and according to some prescribed rule he left the room carefully and softly closing the door behind him jones took up the watch and chain the watch was as thin as a five-shilling piece the chain was a mere thread of gold it was an evil one of the watch was an evil one of the watch was a mere thread of gold it was an evening affair to be worn with dress clothes and this fact presented to the mind of jones a confirmation of the idea that not only was he literally in rochester's shoes but that rochester's ordinary watch and chain had not returned he sat down for a moment to consider another point his own old waterbury and rolled gold chain and the few unimportant letters in his pockets where were they He determined to clear this matter at once, and boldly rang the bell.

The valet answered it. When I came back last night, was there anything in my pockets? asked he. No, my lord. They had taken everything from the pockets. No watch and chain? No, my lord. Have you the clothes I came back in?

yes my lord go and fetch them the man disappeared and returned in a minute with a bundle of clothes neatly folded on his arm mr church told me to keep them careful lest you'd want to put the matter in the hands of the police my lord shocking old things they are jones examined the clothes they were his own everything he had worn yesterday lay there and the sight of them filled his mind with a nostalgia and a desire for them a homesickness and a cloth sickness beyond expression he was absolutely sure from the valet's manner that the servants were not in the know a wild impulse came on him to take the exhibitor of these remnants of his past into his confidence to say right out i'm jones Victor Jones of Philadelphia. I'm no Lord. Here, give me those clothes and let me out of this. Let's call it quits. The word police already dropped held him back. He was an imposter. If he were to declare the facts before Rochester returned, what might be the result? Whatever the result might be, one thing was certain. It would be unpleasant.

Besides, he was no problem. prisoner, once downstairs he could leave the house. So instead of saying, I'm Victor Jones of Philadelphia, he said, Take them away! And finding himself alone once more, he sat down to consider. Rochester must have gone through his pockets, not for loot, but for the purpose of removing any article that might cast suspicion, or raise the suspicion that he, Jones, was not.

not Rochester. That seemed plain enough, and there was an earnestness of purpose in the fact that was disturbing. There was no use in thinking, however. He would go downstairs and make his escape. He was savagely hungry, but he reckoned the Savoy was good enough for one more meal if he could get there. Leaving the watch and chain, unambitious to add a charge of larceny to his other troubles should fate arrest him before the return of rochester he came down the corridor to a landing giving upon a flight of stairs up which save for the gradient a coach and horses might have been driven the place was a palace vast pictures by gloomy old artists pictures of men in armor men in ruffs women without armor or ruffs or even a rag of chiffon pictures worth millions of dollars no doubt hung from the walls of the landing and the wall flanking that triumphant staircase jones looked over into the well of the hall then he began to descend the stairs he had intended on finding a hat in the hall to clap it on and make a clean bolt for freedom and the light of heaven get back to the savoy dress himself in another suit

and once more himself go for rochester but this was no hall with a hat-rack and umbrella stand knights in armor were guarding it and a flunky six feet high in red plushed breeches and with calves that would have made victor jones scream with laughter under normal conditions the flunky seeing our friend stepped to a door opened it and held it open for him not to enter the room thus indicated would have been possible enough but the compelling influence of that vast flunky made it impossible to jones his volition had fled he was subdued to his surroundings for the moment conquered he entered a breakfast-room light and pleasantly furnished where at a breakfast-table and before a silver tea-earned sat a lady of forty or so thin-faced high-nosed aristocratic and rather faded she was reading a letter and when she saw the incomer she rose from the table and gathered some other letters up then she literally swept from the room she looked at him as she passed and it seemed to jones that he had never known before the full meaning of the word scorn. For a wild second, he thought that all had been discovered, that the police were now sure to arrive.

Then he knew at once. Nothing had been discovered. The delusion held even for this woman. That glance was meant for Rochester, not for him, and was caused by the affair of last night, by other things too, maybe, but that surely. uncomfortable angry nervous wild to escape and then yielding to caution he took his seat at the table where a place was laid evidently for him the woman had left an envelope on the table he glanced at it the hon venetia birdbrook ten a carlton house terrace london south-west victor read the inscription

written in a bold female hand. It told him where he was. He was in the breakfast room of 10 A. Carlton House Terrace, but it told him nothing more. Was the Honorable Venetia Birdbrook his wife, or at least the wife of his twin image? This thought blinded him for a moment to the fact that a flunky, they seemed as numerous as flies in May,

was at his elbow with the menu, whilst another flunky, who seemed to have sprung from the floor, was fiddling at the sideboard which contained cold edibles, tongue, ham, chicken, and so forth. Scramble eggs, said he, looking at the card. Tea or coffee, my lord? Coffee! He broke a breakfast roll and helped himself mechanically to some butter, which was instantly presented to him by the sideboard fiddler,

and he had just taken a mechanical bite of buttered roll, when the door opened, and the archipiscopal gentleman who had pulled up his window-blind that morning entered. Mr. Church, for Jones had already gathered that to be his name, carried a little yellow basket filled with letters in his right hand, and in his left a great sheaf. The Times, Daily Telegal, telegraph, morning post, daily mail, daily express, chronicle, and daily news.

These papers he placed on a side table, evidently intended for that purpose. The little letter basket he placed on the table at Jones's left elbow. Then he withdrew, but not without having spoken a couple of murmured words of correction to the flunky near the sideboard, who had omitted, no doubt, some point in the mysterious ritual of which he was an acolyte. Jones glanced at the topmost letter. The Earl of Rochester, 10 A. Carlton House Terrace, London, Southwest. Ah, now he knew it.

The true name of the juggler who had played him this trick? It was plain too now. that Rochester had sent him here as a substitute. But the confirmation of his idea did not ease his mind. On the contrary, it filled him with a vague alarm. The feeling of being in a trap came upon him now for the first time. The joke had lost any semblance of color. The thing was serious.

Rochester ought to have been back to put an end of the business before this. Had anything happened to him? Had he got jailed? He did not touch, though, letters. Without raising suspicion, acting as naturally as possible the part of a peer of the realm, he must escape as swiftly as possible

from this nest of Flunkies, and with that object in view, he accepted the scrambled eggs now presented to him, and the coffee. When they were finished, he rose from the table. then he remembered the letters here was another tiny tie he could not leave them unopened and untouched on the table without raising suspicion

he took them from the basket and with them in his hand left the room the fellow in waiting slipping before to open the door the hall was deserted for a wonder deserted by all but the men in armor a room where he might leave the infernal letters and find a bell to fetch a servant to get him a hat was the prime necessity of the moment he crossed to a door directly opposite opened it and found a room half library half study a pleasant room used to tobacco with a rather well-worn turkey carpet on the floor saddle-bag easy chairs and a great escritoir in the window open and showing pigeon holes containing note-paper envelopes telegraph forms and a rack containing the a b c railway guide whittaker's almanac ruff's guide to the turf who's who and kelly pipes were on the mantelpiece a silver cigar box and cigarette box on a little table by one of the easy chairs matches nothing here was wanting and everything was of the best he placed the letters on the table opened the cigar box and took from it a ramon alones a blunt ended weapon for the destruction of melancholy and unrest six and a half inches long and costing perhaps half a crown a real havana cigar now in london there are only four places where you can obtain a real and perfect havana cigar that is to say four shops and at those four shops or shall we call them emporiums only known and trusted customers can find the sun that shone on the voelta abahos in such and such a perfect year

the earl of rochester's present representative was finding it now with little enough pleasure however as he placed the room preparatory to ringing the bell he was approaching the electric button for this purpose when the faint and far-away murmuring of an automobile as if admitted by a suddenly opened hall door checked his hand here was rochester at last he waited listening he had not long to wait the door of the room suddenly opened and the woman of her breakfast-table disclosed herself she was dressed for going out wearing a hat that seemed a yard in diameter and a feather boa from which her hen-like face and neck rose to the crowning triumph of the hat i am going to mother said she i am not coming back uh-huh said jones she paused then she came right in and closed the door behind her standing with her back close to the door she spoke to jones if you cannot see your own conduct as others see it who can make you i am not referring to the disgrace of last night though heaven knows that was bad enough i am talking of everything of your poor wife who loves you still of the estate you have ruined by your lunatic conduct of the company you keep of the insults you have heaped on people and now you add drink to the rest that's new she paused that's new but i warn you your brain won't stand that you know the taint in the family as well as i do-you know the taint in the family as well as i do

it has shown itself in your actions well go on drinking and you will end in bedlam instead of the workhouse they call you mad rochester you know that she choked i have blushed to be known as your sister i have tried to keep my place here and save you it's ended she turned to the door jones had been making up his mind he would tell the whole affair this rochester was a thoroughly bad lot evidently well he would turn the tables on him now look here said he i am not the man you think i am tush cried the woman she opened the door passed out and shut it with a snap well i'm damned said jones for the second time in connection with rochester the clock and the mantelpiece pointed to a quarter to eleven the faint sound of the car had ceased the lady of the feather boa had evidently taken her departure and the house had resumed its cloister silence. He waited a moment to make sure. Then he went into the hall where a huge flunky, a new one, more curious than the others, was lounging near the door. "'My hat,' said Jones. The thing flew and returned with a glossy silk hat, a tortoise-shell-handled

cane, and a pair of new suede gloves of a delicate dove color. Then it opened the door, and Jones, clapping the hat on his head, walked out. The hat fitted, by a mercy. End of Chapter 4. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 5 of The Man Who Lost Himself. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. The Man Who Lost Himself by H. Devere Stackpool.

Chapter 5. The Point of the Journal. joke. Out in the open air and sunshine he took a deep satisfying breath. He felt as though he had escaped from a cage full of monkeys. Monkeys in the form of men, creatures who would servilely obey him as Rochester, but who, scenting the truth, would rend him in pieces. Well, he was clear of them. Once back in the Savoy, he would get into his own things, and once in his own things he would start. strike. If he could not get a lawyer to take his case up against Rochester, he would go to the police. Yes, he would. Rochester had doped him, taken his letters, taken his watch. Jones was not the man to bring false charges. He knew that in taking his belongings,

this infernal jester had done so, not for plunder, but for the purpose of making the servants believe that he, Rochester, had been stripped of everything by sharks and sent home in an old suit of clothes. All the same, he would charge Rochester with the taking of his things. He would teach this practical joker how to behave. To cool himself and collect his thoughts before going to the Savoy, he took a walk in the Green Park. That one word, Tosh, uttered by the woman, in answer to what he had said, told him more about Rochester than many statements. This man wanted a cold bath. He wanted to be held under the tap till he cried for mercy.

Walking, now with a stick under his right arm and his left hand in his trousers' pocket, he felt something in the pocket. It was a coin. He took it out. It was a penny, undiscovered evidently, and unremoveed by the valet. it was also a reminder of his own poverty-stricken condition his thoughts turned from rochester and his jokes to his own immediate and tragic position the whole thing was his own fault it was quite easy to say that rochester had led him along and tempted him he was a full-grown man and should have resisted temptation he had let strong drink get hold of him well he had paid by him by the loss of his money, to say nothing of the way his self-respect had been bruised by this

jester. Near Buckingham Palace he turned back, walking by the way he had come, and leaving the park at the new gate. He crossed the plexus of ways where Northumberland Avenue Debusch's untrafelger Square. It was near twelve o'clock, and the first evening papers were out. A hawker with a bundle of papers under his arm and a yellow post in front of him like an apron drew his attention at least the poster did suicide of an american in london were the words on the poster jones remembering his penny produced it and bought a paper the american suicide did not interest him but he fancied vaguely that something of rochester's doings of the night before might have been caught by the press through the police news he thought it highly probable that rochester continuing his mad course had been jailed he was rewarded right on the first page he saw his own name he had never seen it before in print and the sight and the circumstances made his tongue clucked back as though checked by a string tied to its root this was the paragraph

last night as the eleven thirty five inner circle train was entering the temple station a man was seen to jump from the platform on to the metals before the station officials could interfere to save him the unfortunate man had thrown himself before the incoming engine death was instantaneous from papers in possession of deceased his identity has been verified as that of mr v a jones an american gentleman of philadelphia lately resident at the savoy hotel strand jones stood with the paper in his hand appalled rochester had committed suicide this was the jest the black core of it all last evening all through that hilarity he had been plotting this plotting it perhaps from the first moment of their meeting unable to resist the prompting of the extraordinary likeness this joker this wester done to the world had left life at the end of a last jamboree and with a burst of laughter leaving another man in his clothes nay almost one might say in his body joan saw the point of the thing at once end of chapter five recording by roger maline part two chapter chapter of the man who lost himself. This Libervox recording is in the public domain.

Recording by Roger Maline. The Man Who Lost Himself by H. Devere Stackpool. Part 2. Chapter 6. The net. He saw something else. He was automatically barred from the Savoy, and barred from the American consul. And on top of that, something else. he had committed a very grave mistake in accepting for a moment his position he should have spoken at once that morning spoken to mr church told his tale and made explanations failing that he should have made explanations before leaving the house

he had left in rochester's clothes he had acted the part of rochester he rolled the paper into a ball tossed it into the gutter and entered charing cross to continue his soliloquy he had eaten rochester's food smoked one of his cigars accepted his cane and gloves all that might have been explainable with rochester's aid but rochester was dead no one knew that rochester was dead to go back to the savoy and establish his own identity he would have to establish the fact of rochester's death tell the story of his own intoxication and make people believe that he was an innocent victim an innocent victim who had gone to another man's house and palpably masqueraded for some hours as that other man walking out of the house in his clothes and carrying his stick an innocent victim who owed a bill at the savoy why every man the family included you may be sure would be finding the innocent victim in Rochester. What were Jones's letters doing on Rochester? That was a nice question for a puzzle-headed jury to answer.

By what art did Jones, the needy American adventurer, that was what they would call him, impose himself upon Rochester, and induce Rochester to order him to be taken to Carlton House Terrace. Oh, there were a lot more questions. to be asked at that phantom court of justice where jones beheld himself in the dock trying to explain the inexplicable the likeness would not be any use for whitewashing it would only deepen the mystery make the affair more extravagant besides the likeness most likely by this time would be pretty well spoiled by the time of the assizes it would be only verifiable by photographs sitting on a seat in charing cross station he cogitated this chasing the most fantastic ideas yet gripped all the time by the cold fact

the fact that the only door in london opened to him was the door of ten a carlton house terrace unable to return to the savoy he possessed nothing in the world but the clothes he stood up in and the walking-stick he held in his hand dressed like a lord he was poorer than any tramp for the simple reason that his extravagantly fine clothes barred him from begging and from the menial work that is the only recourse of the suddenly destitute given time and with this quick business capacity he might have made a fight to obtain a clerkship or some post in a store but he had no time it was near the luncheon hour and he was hungry that fact alone was an indication of how he was placed as regards time he was a logical man he saw clearly that only two courses lay before him to go to the savoy and tell his story and get food and lodging in the police station or to go to ten a carlton house terrace and get food and lodging as rochester both ideas were hateful but he reckoned and with reason, that if he took the first course, arrest and ignominy, and probably imprisonment would be certain, whereas if he took the second, he might be able to bluff the thing out till he could devise means of escape from the net that surrounded him.

He determined on the second course. The servants, and even that scarecrow woman in the feather boa, had accepted him as good coin. There was no reason why they should not go home. on accepting him for a while. For the matter of that, there was no reason why they should not go on accepting him forever. Even in the midst of his disturbance of mind and general tribulation, the humor of the latter idea almost made him smile. The idea of living and dying as Lord Rochester, as a member of the English aristocracy, always being my lorded, served by flunkies with big calves and inducted every morning into his underpants by that guy in the sleeve jacket this preposterous idea more absurd than any dream was yet based on a substantive foundation

in fact he had that morning put it in practice and unless a miracle occurred he would have to continue putting it in practice for some days to come however jones fortunately or unfortunately for himself was a man of action and no dreamer he dismissed the ideas and came to practical considerations if he had to hold on to the position he would have to make more sure of his ground he rose found his way into charing cross station hotel and obtained a copy of who's who from the hotel clerk he turned the pages till he found the ars here was his man rochester twenty first earl of created fourteen thirty one arthur coningsby delamere baron coningsby of wilton ex-lieftainant rifle brigade married teresa second daughter of sir peter mason baronet q v educated heidelberg owns about twenty one thousand acres address ten a carlton house terrace rochester court rochester the hatch colney wiltshire clubs senior conservative national sporting pelican that was only a part of the sayings of who's who regarding rochester arthur coningsby delamere the last decadent descendant of a family that had been famous in long past years for its power prodigality and prolificacy

if jones could have climbed up his own family tree he might have found on some distaff branch the reason of his appalling likeness to rochester arthur coningsby delamere but this was a pure matter of speculation and it did not enter the mind of jones he closed the book returned it and walked out now that his resolve was made his fighting spirit was roused in other words he felt the same recklessness that a man feels who was going into battle the regardlessness of consequence which marks your true explorer for stanley on the frontier of darkest africa scott on the ice rim of the beardmore glacier had before them positions and districts simple in comparison to those that now fronted jones who had before him the western and southwestern london districts with all they contained in the way of natives and top hats natives painted and powdered tribes with tribal laws of which he knew little tricks of which he knew less convenances ju poos and fetishes and he was entering this dark and intricate and dangerous country not as an explorer carrying beads and bibles but disguised as a top man a chief burton's position when he journeyed to mecca disguised as a mohammedan was easy compared to the position of jones burton knew the ritual he made one mistake in it it is true but then he was able to kill the man who saw him make that mistake jones could not protect himself in this way even if the valet in the sleeve jacket were to discover him in a position analogous to burton's

he was not thinking of any of these things at the present moment however he was thinking of luncheon if he were condemned to play the part of a lord for a while he was quite determined to take his salary in the way of everything he wanted yet it seemed that to obtain anything he wanted in this new and extraordinary position he would have to take something he did not want he wanted luncheon but he did not want to go back to carlton house terrace at least not just now those flunkies the very thought of them gave him indigestion more than that he was afraid of them a fear that was neither physical nor moral but more in the nature of the fear of the fear of the fear of the fear of the fear of of women for mice, or the supposed fear of the late Lord Roberts for cats. The solemn church, the mercurial valet, the men with calves, belonged to a tribe that maybe had done Jones to death in some past life. Either boredom to death or bludgeoned him, it did not matter. The antipathy was there, and it was powerful.

At the corner of Northumberland Avenue, an idea came to him. just Rochester belonged to several clubs. Why not go and have luncheon at one of them, on credit? It would save him for the moment from returning to the door towards which fate was shepherding him, and he might be able to pick up some extra wrinkles about himself and his position. The idea was indicative of the daring of the man,

though there was little enough danger in it. He was sure of passing muster at a club, since he had done so at home. He carried the names of two of Rochester's clubs in his mind, the Pelican and the senior conservative. The latter seemed the more stodgy, the least likely to offer surprises in the way of shoulder-clapping, irresponsible parties who might want to enter into general conversation.

He chose it, asked a policeman for directions, and made for Paul Mall. Here another policeman pointed out to him the building he was in search of. It stood on the opposite side of the way, a building of gray stone, vast and serious of feature, yet opulent and hinting of the best in all things relative to comfort. It was historical. Disraeli had come down those steps, and the great Lord Salisbury had gone up them. men to enter this place had to be born not made and even these selected ones had to put their names down at birth if they wished for any chance of lunching there before they lost their teeth and hair

it took twenty-one years for the elect to reach this place and on the way they were likely to be slain by black balls victor jones just crossed the road and went up the steps end of chapter six recording by roger maline chapter seven of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter seven luncheon he had lunched at the constitutional with a chance acquaintance picked up on his first week in london so he had lunched at the constitutional with a chance acquaintance picked up on his first week in london so he knew knew something of the ways of English clubs, yet the vast hall of this place daunted him for a moment. However, the club servants, seeming to know him, and recognizing that indecision is the most fatal weakness of man, he crossed the hall, and seeing some gentleman going up the great staircase, he followed to a door in the first landing. He saw through the glass swing doors that this was the great luncheon room of the club, and having made this discovery he came downstairs again where good fortune in the form of a bald-headed man without hat or stick coming through a passageway indicated the cloak-room to him

here he washed his hands and brushed his hair and looking at himself in a glass judged his appearance to be conservative and all right he a democrat of the democrats in this hive of aristocracy and old crusted conservatism might have felt qualms of political conscience but for the fact that earthly politics social theories and social instincts were less to him now than to an inhabitant of the dark body that tumbles and fumbles around serious less than the difference between the minnow and the roach to the roach and the landing-net leaving the place he almost ran into the arms of a gentleman who was entering and who gave him a curt Hadou! He knew that man. He had seen his newspaper portrait in America, as well as England. It was the leader of His Majesty's opposition, the Queen Bee of this hive where he was about to sit down to lunch. The Queen Bee did not seem very friendly, a fact that augured ill for the attitude of the workers and the drones, arrived at the glass-swinged doors before mentioned, he looked in. place was crowded it looked to him as though for the space of a mile and a half or so lay tables tables tables all occupied by twos and threes and fours of men

conservative-looking men and no doubt mostly lords it was too late to withdraw without shattering his own self-respect and self-confidence the cold bath was before him and there was no use putting a toe in he opened the door and entered walking between the tables and looking the luncheon parties in the face the man seated has a tremendous advantage over the man standing in this sort of game one or two of the members met by the newcomer's glance bowed in the curious manner of the seated briton the eyes of others fell away others nodded frigidly it seemed to jones then like a pilot fish before a shark leading him to his food a club waiter developed and piloted him to a small unoccupied table where he took a seat and looked at a menu handed to him by the pilot he ordered fillet of soul roast chicken salad and strawberry ice they were the easiest things to order he would have ordered roast elephant's trunk it had been easier and on the menu a man after the storming of hellgate or just dismounted after the charge of the light brigade would have possessed his little instinct for menu-hunting as jones he had pierced the ranks of the british aristocracy that was nothing he was seated at their camp-fire sharing their food and they were all inimical towards him that was everything he felt the draught he felt that these men had a down on him felt it by all sorts of senses that seemed newly developed not a down on him jones but a down on him rochester

arthur coningsby delamere twenty-first earl of and the extraordinary thing was that he felt it what on earth did it matter to him if these men looked coldly upon another man it did it mattered quite a lot more than perhaps it ever mattered to the other man is the soul such a shallow and blind thing that it cannot sort the true from the faults the material from the immaterial cannot see that an insult leveled at a likeness is not an insult leveled at it surely not and yet the soul of victor jones resented the coolness of others towards the supposed body of rochester as though it were a personal insult it was the first intimation to jones that when the actor puts on his part he puts on more than a cloak or trunk hose that the personality he had put on had nerves curiously associated with his own nerves and that though he may say to himself a hundred times with respect to the attitudes of other people pa they don't mean me that formula was no charm against disdain the wine butler a gentleman not unlike mr church was now at his elbow and he found himself contemplating the wine card of the senior conservative a serious document if one may judge by the faces of the men who peruse it it is in fact the almanac d'gotha of wines the old kings of wine are here the princess and all the aristocracy unlike the almanac de goetha however the price of each is set down unlike the almanac de gotha the names of a few commoners are admitted

mackin was here and even blackways cider the favorite tipple of the old duke of taunton jones ran his eye over the list without enthusiasm he had taken a dislike to alcohol even in its mildest guise er what minerals have you got asked he minerals the man with the wine card was nonplussed jones saw his mistake soda water said he get me some soda water the fillet of soul with sauce tartar was excellent nothing not even the minerals could dim that fact as he ate he looked about him and with all the more ease because he found now that nobody was looking at him his self-consciousness died down and he began speculating on the men around their probable rank fortune and intellect. It seemed to Jones that the latter factor was easier of determination than the other two. What struck him more forcibly was a weird resemblance between them all, a phantom thing, a link undiscoverable, yet somehow there. This tribal expression is one of the strangest phenomena eternally comforting and battering our senses. Just as men grow like their way,

wives, so do they grow like their fellow tradesmen, waiters like waiters, grooms like grooms, lawyers like lawyers, politicians like politicians. More, it has been undeniably proved that landowners grow like landowners, just as shepherds grow like sheep and aristocrats like aristocrats. A common idea molds faces to its shape, and a common want of ideas allows external circumstances to do the molding. So, English conservative politicians of the higher order, being worked upon by external circumstances of a similar nature, have perhaps a certain similar expression. Radical politicians, on the other hand, shaped to a common idea. Evil, but still an idea.

Jones was not thinking this. He was just recognizing that all these men belong. to the same class, and he felt in himself that not only did he not belong to that class, but that Rochester also probably had found himself in the same position. That might have accounted for the wildness and eccentricity of Rochester, as demonstrated in that mad carouse and hinted at by the woman in the feather boa. The wildness of a monkey condemned to live amongst goats, hanging on to their horns and clutching at their scuts and playing all the tricks that contrarieness might suggest to a contrary nature something of this sort was passing through jones's mind and as he attacked his strawberry ice for the first time since reading that momentous piece of news in the evening newspaper his mental powers became focused on the question that lay at the very heart of all this business it struck him now so very forcibly

that he laid down his spoon and stared before him, forgetful of the place where he was and the people around him. Why did that guy commit suicide? That was the question. He could find no answer to it. A man does not, as a rule, commit suicide simply because he is eccentric, or because he has made a mess of his estate, or because being a practical joker,

he suddenly finds his twin image to defraud. Rochester had evidently done nothing to bar him from society. Though perhaps coldly received by his club, he was still received by it. Had he done something that society did not know of, something that might suddenly obtrude itself? Jones was brought back from his reverie with a snap. One of the confounded waiters was making off of his half-eaten,

nice. Hey, cried he. What are you doing? Bring that back. His voice rang through the room. People turned to look. He mentally cursed the ice and the creature who had snapped it from him, finished it, devoured a wafer, and then, rising to his feet, left the room. It was easier to leave than to come in. Other men were leaving, and in the general breakup he felt less observant. down stairs he looked through glass doors into a room where men were smoking correct men in huge arm-chairs men with legs stretched out men smoking big cigars and talking politics no doubt he wanted to smoke but he did not want to smoke in that place he went to the cloakroom fetched his hat and cane and gloves and left the club outside in pall mall he remembered that he had not told the waiter to credit him with the luncheon but a trifle like that did not bother him now they would be sure to put it down what did trouble him was the still unanswered question why did that guy commit suicide suppose rochester had murdered some man and had committed suicide to escape the consequences

this thought gave him a cold grue such as he had never experienced before for a moment he saw himself hauled before a british court of justice for a moment and for the first time in his life he found himself wondering what a hangman might be like but victor jones though a visionary sometimes in business was at base a business man more used to his position now and looking at fairly in the face he found that he had little to fear even if rochester had committed a murder he could if absolutely driven to it prove his identity driven to it he could prove his life in philadelphia bring witnesses and relate circumstances his tail would all hang together simply because it was the truth this inborn assurance heartened him a lot and more cheerful now he began to recognize more of the truth his position was very solid every one had accepted him unless he came an awful bump over some crime committed by the late defunct he could go on forever as the earl of rochester he did not want to go on forever as the earl of rochester he wanted to get back to the states and just be himself and he intended so to do having scraped a little money together but the idea tickled him just as it had done in charing cross station and it had lost its monstrous appearance and had become humorous a highly dangerous appearance for a dangerous idea to take jones was a great walker exercise always cleared his mind and strengthened his judgment

he set off on a long walk now passing the national gallery to regent circus then up regent street and oxford street and along oxford street towards the west he found himself in high street kensington in hammersmith and and then in those dismal regions where the country struggles with the town oh those suburbs of london within easy reach of the city those battalions of brick houses bits of corpses of what once were fields those villas laundries the contrast between this place and pall mall came as a sudden revelation to jones the contrast between the power ease affluence and splendor of the surroundings of the earl of rochester and the surroundings of the bank clerks and small people who dwelt here the viewpoint is everything from here carlton house terrace seemed almost pleasing jones like a good democrat had all his life professed a contempt for rank titles had seemed as absurd to him as feathers in a monkey's cap it was here in ultra hammersmith that he began to review this question from a more british standpoint tell it not in gath he was beginning to feel the vaguest antipathetic stirring against little houses and ultra people he turned and began to retrace his steps it was seven o'clock when he reached the door of ten a carlton house terrace end of chapter seven recording by roger maline chapter eight of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter eight mr voles

the flunky who admitted him having taken his hat stick and gloves presented him with a letter that it arrived by the midday post also with a piece of information mr voules called to see you my lord shortly after twelve he stated that he had an appointment with you he is to call again at quarter-past seven jones took the letter and went with it to the room where he had sat that morning upon the table lay all the letters that he had not opened that morning he had forgotten these here was a mistake if he wished to hold to his position for even a few days it would be necessary to guard against mistakes like this he hurriedly opened them merely glancing at the contents which for the most part were unintelligible to him there was a dinner invitation from lady snorries whoever she might be and a letter beginning dear old boy from a female who signed herself julie an appeal from a begging letter-writer and a letter beginning dear rochester from a woman who signed herself julie an appeal from a begging letter-writer and a letter beginning dear rochester from a from a gentleman who signed himself simply childersley the last letter he opened was the one he had just received from the servant it was written on poor paper and it ran stick to it if you can you'll see why i couldn't there's a fiver under the papers of the top right-hand drawer of bureau in smoke-room rochester jones knew that this letter though addressed to the earl of rochester was meant for him and was written by Rochester, written probably on some bar counter, and posted at the nearest pillar box just before he had committed the act.

He went to the drawer in the bureau indicated, raised the papers in it, and found a five-pound note. Having glanced at it, he closed the drawer, placed the note in his waistcoat pocket, and sat down again at the table. stick to it if you can. The words rang in his ears just as though he had heard them spoken. Those words, backed by the five-pound note, wrought a great change in the mind of Jones. He had Rochester's permission to act as he was acting, and a little money to help him in his actions.

The fact of his penury had been like a wet blanket upon him all day. He felt that power had come to him with permission. He could think clearly now. He rose and paced the floor. Stick to it if you can. Why not? Why not?

Why not? He found himself laughing out loud. A great gush of energy had come to him. Jones was a man of that sort. A new and great idea always came to him on the crest of a wave of energy. The British government contract idea had come to him like that, and the wave had carried him to England.

Why not be the Earl of Rochester? Make good his position, finally, stand on the pinnacle where fate had placed him, and carry this thing through to its ultimate issue. It would not be all jam. Rochester must have been very much pressed by circumstances. That did not find. frightened Jones. To him the game was everything, and the battle. He would make good where

Rochester had failed, meet the difficulties that had destroyed the other, face them, overcome them. His position was unassailable. Coming over from New York, he had read Nelson's Shilling edition of the life of Sir Henry Hawkins. He had read with amazement the story of British credulity expressed in the Titchbourne case how Arthur Orton a butcher, scarcely able to write, had imposed himself on the public as Roger Titchbourne, a young aristocrat of good education. He contrasted his own position with Orton's. He was absolutely unassailable. He went to the cigar box, chose a cigar, and lit it.

There was the question of handwriting. that suddenly occurred to him confronting his newly formed plans he would have to sign checks write letters a typewriter could settle the latter question and as for the signature he possessed a sample of rochester's and would have to imitate it at the worst he could pretend he had injured his thumb that excuse would last for some time there's one big thing about the whole business said he to himself and that is the chap's eccentricity why if i'm shoved too hard i can pretend to have lost my memory or my wits there's not a blessed card i haven't either in my hand or up my sleeve and if worst comes to worst i can always prove my identity and tell my story he was engaged with thoughts like these when the door opened and the servant bearing a card on a salver announced that mr voules the gentleman who had called earlier in the day had arrived bring him in him in said victor the servant retired and returned immediately ushering in voles who entered carrying his hat before him the stranger was a man of fifty a tubby man dressed in a black frock coat covered despite the summer weather by a thin black overcoat with silk facings his face was evil thick-skinned yellow heavy-nosed the hair of the animal was jet black thin and presented to the eyes of the gazer a small disraeli curl upon the forehead of the owner

the card announced mr a s voles twelve b germine street voles himself and unknown to himself announced a lot of other things victor jones had a sharp instinct for men well wedded by experience he nodded to the newcomer curtly and without rising from his chair the servant shut the door and the two men were alone. Just as a dog's whole nature livens at the smell of a pole cat, so did Jones's nature at the sight of Vols. He felt this man to be an enemy. Voles came to the table and placed his hat upon it. Then he turned, went to the door, and opened it to see if the servant was listening. He shut the door. "'Well,' said he, "'have you got the money for me?' another man in jones's position might have asked and with reason what money jones simply said no this simple answer had a wonderful effect vols about to take a seat remained standing clasping the back of the chair he had chosen then he burst out

you fooled me yesterday and gave me an appointment for to-day i called you were out was i were you you said the money would be here waiting for me well here i am now i've got a cab outside ready to take it and suppose i don't give it to you asked jones we won't suppose any nonsense like that replied voles taking his seat not so long as there are policemen to be called at a minute's notice that's true said the other we don't want the police you don't replied voles he was staring at jones the earl of rochester's voice struck him as not quite the same as usual more spring in it and vitality altered in fact but he suspected nothing of the truth past as good coin by voles jones had nothing to fear from any man or woman in london for the eye of vols was unerring the ear of voles ditto the mind of vols balanced like a jeweller's scales true said jones i don't well let's talk about this money couldn't you take half to-night and half in a week's time not me replied the other i must have the two thousand to-night same as usual jones had the whole case in his hands now and he began preparing the toast on which to put this most evident blackmailer when cooked his quick mind his quick mind had settled everything. Here was the first obstacle in his path. It would have to be destroyed,

not surmounted. He determined to destroy it. If the worst came to the worst, if whatever crime Rochester had committed were to be pressed home on him by Voles, he would declare everything, prove his identity by sending for witnesses from the states and show Rochester's letter. The blackmailing would account for Rochester's suicide. But Jones knew blackmailers, and he knew that Voles would never prosecute. Rochester must indeed have been a weak fool not to have grasped this nettle and torn it up by the roots. He forgot that Rochester was probably guilty. That makes all the difference in the world.

You shall have the money, said he. but see here let's make an end of this now let's see how much have you had already only eight said voles you know that well enough why ask eight thousand murmured the other you have had eight thousand pounds out of me and the two to-night will make ten seems a good price for a few papers he made the shot on speck it was a bull's-eye oh those papers are worth a good deal more than that said voles a good deal more than that so it was documents not actions that the blackmailer held in suspense over the head of rochester it really did not matter a button to jones he stood ready to face murder itself armed as he was with rochester's letter in his pocket and the surety of being able to identify himself well said he let's finish this business have you a check-book on you i have a check-book right enough what's your game now just an idea of mine before i pay you Bring out your checkbook. You'll see what I mean in a minute. Volz hesitated. Then, with a laugh, he took the checkbook from the breast pocket of his overcoat.

Now, tear out a check. Tear out a check, cried the other. What on earth are you getting at? One of my checks? This is good. Tear out a check, insisted the other. it will only cost you a penny and you will see my meaning in a moment. The animal, before the insistent direction of the other, hesitated. Then with a laugh he tore out a check.

Now place it on the table! Volz placed it on the table. Jones, going to the bureau, fetched a pen and ink. He pushed a chair to the table and made the other sit down. Now, said Jones, write me out a check for 8,000 pounds. Volz threw the pen down with a laugh. It was his last in that room. You won't, said Jones. Oh, quit this fooling, replied the other. I've no time for such stuff. What are you doing now?

Ringing the bell, said Jones. voles just about to pick up the check paused he seemed to find himself at fault for a moment the jungle beast that hears the twig crack beneath the foot of the man with the express rifle pauses like that over his bloody meal on the carcass of a decoy goat the door opened and a servant appeared it was the miracle with calves send out at once and bring in an officer a policeman said joan Yes, my lord. The door shut. Volz jumped up and seized his hat. Jones walked to the door and locked it, placing the key in his pocket. I've got you, said he, and I'm going to squeeze you, and I'm going to make you squeal.

You're going to... You're going to... you're going to... you're going to... you're going to... said Volz. He was the color of old ivory. i'm going to make you go through this here damn this nonsense stop it you fool i'll smash you said voles here open that door and stop this business i told you i was going to make you squeal said jones but that's nothing to what's coming voles came to the table and put down his hat then facing jones he wrote him he rose he wrote him to the table and put down his hat then facing jones he wrapped with the knuckles of his right hand on the table you've done it now said he you've laid yourself open to a nice charge false imprisonment that's what you've done a nice thing in the papers to-morrow morning and intimidation on top of that over and above those there's the papers i'll have no mercy those papers go to lord plin lyman to-morrow morning you'll be in the divorce course, Court, this day, month, and so will she. Reputation! She won't have a rag to cover herself with. Oh, won't she? said Jones. This is most interesting. He felt a great uplift of the heart.

So this blackmail business had to do with a woman. The idea that Rochester was some horrible form of criminal had weighed upon him. It had seemed to him, it had seemed to him that no man would pay such a huge sum as eight thousand pounds in the way of blackmail unless his crime were in proportion rochester had evidently paid it to shield not only his own name but the name of a woman most interesting said voles i'm glad you think so then in a burst come open that door and stop this nonsense take that key out of your pocket and open the door you always were a fool but this is beyond folly the pair of you are in the hollow of my hand you know it i can crush you like that like that like that he opened and shut his right hand a cruel hand it was hairy as to the back huge as to the thumb jones looked at him you are wasting a lot of muscular energy said he my determination is made and it holds you are going to prison mr filthy beast voles i'm up against you that's the plain truth i'm going to cut you open and show your inside to the british public they'll be so lost in admiration at the sight they won't bother about the woman or me

they'll call us public benefactors i reckon you know men and you know when a man is determined look at me look at me in the face you sumpf a knock came at the door jones took the key from his pocket and opened the door the constable is here my lord said the servant tell him to come in said jones voles had taken up his hat again and he stood now by the table hat and hand looking exactly what he was a criminal on his defense the constable was a fresh-looking and upstanding young man he had removed his helmet and was carrying it by the chin strap he had no bludgeon no revolver yet he impressed jones almost as much as he impressed the other officer said jones i have called you in for the purpose of giving this man in charge for attempting stop cried voles then something oriental in his nature took charge of him he rushed forward with arms out as though to embrace the policeman it's all a mistake cried he constable one moment go outside one moment leave me with his lordship I will explain, There is nothing wrong.

It is all a big mistake. The constable held him off, glancing for orders at Jones. Jones felt no vindictiveness towards voles now, disgust, such as he might have felt towards a vulture or a cormorant, but no vindictiveness. He wanted that eight thousand pounds. He had determined to make good in his new position, to fight the world that Rochester had failed to fight

and overcome the difficulties sure to be ahead of him. Vols was the first great difficulty, and lo, it seemed, that he was about not only to destroy it, but turn it to a profit. He did not want the eight thousand for himself. He wanted it for the game, and the fascination of that great game he was only just beginning to understand.

go outside officer said he to the constable he shut the door sit down and write said he vol said not a word he went to the table sat down and picked up the pen the check was still lying there he drew it towards him then he flung the pen then he picked it up the pen then he picked it up but he did not write he waved it between finger and thumb as though he were beating time to a miniature orchestra staged on the table before him then he began to write he was making out a check to the earl of rochester for the sum of eight thousand pounds no shillings no pence he signed it a s voles he was about to cross it but jones stopped him leave it open said he and now one thing more i must have those papers to-morrow morning without fail and to make certain of them you must do this he went to the bureau and took a sheet of note-paper which he laid before the other right said he i will dictate begin june second voles put the date my lord went on the dictator this is to promise you that to-morrow morning i will hand to the messenger you send to me all the papers of yours in my possession i confess to having held those papers over you for the purpose of blackmail and of having obtained from you the sum of eight thousand pounds and i promise to amend my ways and to endeavor to lead an honest life

signed a s voles to the earl of rochester that was the letter three times the rogue at the table refused to go on writing and three times his master went to the door the rattle of the door handle always inspiring the scribe to renewed energy when the thing was finished jones read it over blotted it and put it in his pocket with the check now you can go said he i will send a man to-morrow morning at eight o'clock to your home for the papers i will not use this letter against you unless you give trouble well what do you want brandy gasped bowls for god's sake some brandy end of chapter eight recording by roger maline chapter nine of the man who lost himself this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter nine more intruders the little glass that had held the fin champagne stood in the table the door was shut voles was gone and the incident was ended jones for the first time in his life felt the faintness that comes after supreme exertion he could never have imagined that a thing like this would have so upset him he was unconscious during the whole of the business that he was putting out more energy than ordinary he knew it now as he contemplated the magnitude of his victory sitting exhausted in the big saddle-bag chair on the left of the fireplace and facing the door

he had crushed the greatest rogue in london taken from him eight thousand pounds of ill-gotten money and freed himself of an ink-gotten money and freed himself of an ink incubus that would have made his position untenable. Rochester could have done just the same had he possessed daring and energy and courage enough. He hadn't, and there was an end of it. At this moment a knock came to the door, and a flunky, a new one, appeared. Dinner is served, my lord! Joan sat up in his chair. Dinner, said he.

I'm not ready for it. yet. Fetch me a whiskey and soda. Look here. Tell Mr. Church I want to see him. Yes, my lord. Jones, as stated before, possessed that very rare attitude, an eye for men. It was quite unknown to him. Up to this he had been condemned to take men as he found them. The pressure of circumstances alone had made him a business partner with Aaron Stringer. He had never trusted Stringer. Now, being in a position of command, he began to use this precious gift, and he selected Church for a first officer.

He wanted a henchman. The whiskey and soda arrived, and almost immediately on it, Church. Jones, placing the half-empty glass on the table, nodded to him. "'Come in,' said he, and shut the door. church closed the door and stood at attention this admirable man's face was constructed not with a view to the easy interpretation of emotions i doubt if an earthquake in carlton house terrace and the vicinity could have altered the expression of it he stood as if listening jones began i want you to go to-morrow at eight o'clock to number twelve b germine street to get some documents for me they will be handed to you by a s voles yes my lord you will bring them back to me here yes my lord i have just seen the gentleman and i've just dealt with him he is a very great rogue and i had to call an officer a constable in i settled him mr church opened his mouth as though he were going to speak then he shut it again

go on said jones what were you going to say well your lordship i was going to say that i am very glad to hear that when you told me four months ago in confidence what voles was having out of you you will remember what advice i gave your lordship don't be squeezed i said squeeze him your lordship solicitor mr mortimer collins i believe told you the same i have taken your advice i find it so good that i am going to ask your advice often again do you see any difference in me mr church yes my lord you have changed if your lordship will excuse me for saying so how you have grown younger my lord and more yourself and you speak different sharper so to say these words were balm of gilead to jones he had received no opinion of himself from others till now he had vaguely mistrusted his voice unable to estimate in how much it differed from rochester's the perfectly frank declaration of church put his mind at rest he spoke sharper that was all well said he things are going to be different all around better too he turned away towards the bureau and church opened the door you don't want me any longer my lord not just now he opened kelly's directory and looked up the solicitors till he came to the name he wanted mortimer collins ten sergeants inn fleet street that's my man said he to himself and to-morrow i will see him he closed the book

left the room. He did not know the position of the dining-room, nor did he want to. A servant seeing him, and taking it for granted that, at this late hour he did not want to dress, opened a door. Next minute he was seated alone at a large table, stared at by defunct Rochester's and their wives, and spreading his table-napkin on his knees. The dinner was excellent, though simple enough. English society has drifted a long way from the days when Lord Palmerston sat himself down to devour two helpings of turtle soup, the same of cod and oyster sauce, a huge plateful of york ham, a cut from the joint, a liberal supply of roast pheasant, to say nothing of kickshaws and sweets.

The days when the inside of a nobleman after dinner was a provision store floating in sherry, hawk, champagne, old port, and pears. punch. Nothing acts more quickly upon the nervous system than food. Before the roast chicken and salad was served, Jones found himself enjoying his dinner, and more than that, enjoying his position. The awful position of the morning had lost its terrors, the fog that had surrounded him was breaking. Wrecked on this strange, luxuriant, yet hostile coast, he had met the natives, fed with them, fought them and measured their strength and cunning he was not afraid of them now the members of the senior conservative club camp had left him unimpressed and the wild beast voles had bequeathed to him a lively contempt for the mental powers of the man he had succeeded rightly or wrongly all lords caught a tinge of the lurid light that shewed up rochester's want of vim and mental hitting power but he did not feel a contempt for lords as such he was longing to appreciate the fact that to be a lord was to be a very great thing even a lord who had left his estates run to ruin like himself

a single glass of iced champagne he allowed himself only one established this conviction in his mind also the recognition that the flunkies no longer oppressed him they rather pleased him they knew their work and performed it perfectly they hung on as every word and movement yesterday sitting where he was he would have been feeling out of place and irritable and awkward even a few hours ago he would have felt oppressed and wanting to escape somewhere by himself what lent him this new magic of assurance and sense of mastery of his position undoubtedly it was his battle with voles coffee was served to him in the smoking-room and there sitting alone with a cigar he began clearly and for the first time to envisage his plans for the future he could drop everything and run book a passage for the united states enter new york as lord rochester just as a diver enters the sea and emerge as jones he could keep the eight thousand pounds with a clear conscience or couldn't he this point seemed a bit obscure he did not worry about it much the main question had not to do with money the main question was simply this shall i be victor jones for the future or shall i be the earl of rochester the twenty-first earl of rochester shall i clear out or stick to my guns remain boss of this show and try to make something of the wreckage or sneak off with nothing to show for the most amazing experience man ever underwent rochester had sneaked off he was a quitter

jones had once read a story in the popular magazine in which a railway manager had cast scorn on a ne'er-do-well god does surely hate a quitter said the manager these words always remained with him they had crystallized his sentiments in this respect the quitter ranked in his mind almost with a sharper all the same the temptation to quit was strong even though the temptation to stay was growing. A loophole remained open to him. It was not necessary to decide at once. He could throw down his cards at any moment and rise from the table if the game was getting too much for him, or if he grew tired of it. He saw difficult times ahead for him, in the mess in which Rochester had left his affairs. That was, perhaps, his strongest incentive to remain. He was roused from his reverie by voices in the hall, loud, cheery voices. A knock came to the door, and a servant announced,

Sir Hugh Spicer and Captain Stark to see you, my lord. Joan sat up in his chair. Show them in, said he. The servant went out and returned, ushering in a short, bibulous-looking young man and evening dress, covered with a long fawn-colored overcoat this gentleman was followed by a half-bald evil-looking man of fifty or so also in evening attire this latter wore a monocle in what jones afterward mentally called his twisted face look at him cried the young man sitting in his blessed arm-chair and not dressed look at him he lurched slightly as he spoke and brought up at the table where he hit the inkstand with the cane he was carrying,

sending ink spot and pens flying. Jones looked at him. This was Huey, pillar of the Criterion Bar, president of the Ragtag Club, baronet and detrimental, and all at 23. Leave it alone, Huey, said Stark, going to the silver cigar box and help him. helping himself less of that blessed cane hughy why jollops what ails you he stared at jones as he lit a cigar jones looked at him

this was spencer stark late captain in his majesty's black hussars gambler penniless always well dressed and always well fed terrible just as beetles or beetles or beetles whether dressed in tropical splendor or the funeral black of the english type so are detrimental's detrimental jones knew his men i beg your pardon said he did you mean that name for me he rose as he spoke and crossing to the bell rang it they thought he was speaking in jest and ringing for drinks they laughed and hughie began to yell yell yell and slashed the table with his cane in time to what he was yelling this beast who was never happy unless smashing glasses making a noise or tormenting his neighbors who had never been really sober for the space of some five years who had destroyed a fine estate and broken his mother's heart seemed now endeavoring to break his wangy cane on the table the noise was terrific the door opened and calves appeared throw that ruffian out said jones out with em cried hughie throwing away his cane at this joke come on stark let's shove old jolips out of doors he advanced to the merry attack and stark livened up by the other closed in receiving a blow in the midriff that seated him in the fender the next moment hughy found himself caught by a firm hand that had somehow managed to insert itself between the back of his collar and his neck gripping the collar choking and crowing he was rushed out of the room and across the hall to the front door a running footman proceed

seating him. The door was opened, and he was flung into the street. The ejection of Stark was an easier matter. The hats and coats were flung out, and the door shut finally. "'If either of those guys comes here again,' said Jones to the acolyte, "'Call an officer, I mean a constable.' "'Yes, my lord!' "'I wonder how many more people I will have to fling out of this house.' said he to himself as he returned to the smoking-room my god what a mess that chap rochester must have made all around bar-bumbers like those he ordered the ink to be cleared up and then he sent for mr church he was excited church said he i've shot out two more of that carrion you know all the men i've been fool enough to know all the men i've been fool enough to know

if they come here again tell the servants not to let them in but he had another object in sending for church where's my check-book he asked church went to the bureau and opened a lower drawer i think you placed it here my lord he produced it when he was gone jones opened the book it was one of coutes he knew his banker now as well as well as well as he was gone jones opened the book it was one of coutes he knew his banker now as well as well as as well as his solicitor. Then he sat down and taking Rochester's note from his pocket, began to study the handwriting and signature. He made a hundred imitations of the signature, and found for the first time in his life that he was not bad at that sort of work. Then he burnt the sheets of paper he had been using, put the checkbook away, and looked at the clock. It pointed to eleven. He switched out the lights. He switched out the lights, and left the room, taking his way upstairs.

He felt sure of being able to find the bedroom he had left that morning, and coming along the softly lit corridor, he had no difficulty in locating it. He had half-dreaded that the agile valet in the sleeve jacket might be there waiting to tuck him up, but to his relief the room was vacant. He shut the door, and going to the nearest window, pulled the blind up for a moment. The moon was rising over London and casting her light upon the green park. A huge summer moon, the sort of moon that conjures up ideas about guitars and balconies. Jones undressed, and putting on the silk pajamas that were laid out for him,

got into bed, leaving only the light burning by the bedside. He tried to recall the details of that wonderful day, failed utterly, switched out the light and went to sleep. End of Chapter 9. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 10 of the man who lost himself. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline.

The Man Who Lost Himself by H. Devere Stackpool. Chapter 10. Lady Plin Lyman. The most curious thing in the whole of Jim. his extraordinary experiences was the way in which things affecting rochester affected him the coldness of the club members was an instance in point he knew that their coldness had nothing to do with him yet he resented it practically just as much as though it had then again the case of voles what had made him fight voles with such vigor it did not matter to him in the least whether voles gave rochester away or not. Yet he had fought Voles with all the feeling of the man who is attacked, not of the man who is defending another man from attack.

The attitude of Spicer and the other scamp had roused his ire on account of its want of respect for him, the supposed Earl of Rochester. Rochester's folly had inspired that want of respect. Why should he, Jones, bother about it? He did. it hit him just as much as though it were leveled against himself he had found as yet to a limited degree but still he had found that anything that would hurt rochester would hurt him that his sensibility was just as acute under his new guise and wonder of wonders his dignity is a lord just as sensitive as his dignity as a man if you had told jones in philadelphia that a d-auntar of wonders that a dignity is a lord just as sensitive as his dignity as a man if you had told jones in philadelphia that a day would come when he would be angry if a servant did not address him as my lord he would have thought you mad yet that day had come or was coming and that change in him was not in the least the result of snobbishness it was the result of the knowledge of what was due to rochester arthur coningsby delamere twenty-first earl of from whom he could not disentangle himself whilst acting his part he was awakened by mr church pulling up his window-blinds he had been dreaming of the boarding-house in philadelphia where he used to live of miss wibrow the proprietress and the other guests miss sparrow mr mose born moses

mr hoffman the part proprietor of sharpe's drug store mrs bertine and the rest he watched whilst mr church passed to the door received the morning tea-tray from the servant outside and placing it by the bed withdrew this was the only menial service which mr church ever seemed to perform with the exception of the stately carrying-in of papers and letters at breakfast time jones drank his tea then he got up went to the window looked out at the sunlit green part and then rang his bell he was not depressed nor nervous this morning he felt extraordinarily fit the powerful good spirits natural to him a heritage better than a fortune were his again life seemed wonderfully well worth living and the game before him the only game worth playing then the mechanism came into the room and began to act james was the name of this individual dumb and serious and active as an insect this man always filled jones's mind with wonderment he seemed less a man than a machine but at least he was a perfect machine fully dressed now he was preparing to go down when a knock came to the door and mr church came in with a big envelope on a salver. This is what you requested me to fetch from Germine Street, my lord.

Oh, you've been to Germine Street? Yes, my lord, directly I had served your tea at quarter to eight. I took a taxi. Good, said Jones. He took the envelope, and Church, and the mechanism having withdrawn, he sat down by the window to have a look at the contents. the envelope contained letters letters from a man to a woman letters from the earl of rochester to sophira the most odiously and awfully stupid collection of love letters ever written by a fool to be read by a whigged counsel in a divorce court they covered three months and had been written two years ago

they were passionate idealistic in parts driveling he called her his ickle teeny weeny treasure baby language jones almost blushed as he read he sure was molting said he as he dropped letter after letter on the floor and he paid eight thousand to hold these things back well i don't know maybe i'd have done the same myself i can't fancy seeing myself in the philadelphia ledger with this stuff tacked on to the end of my name he collected the incriminating documents placed them in the envelope and came downstairs with it in his hand breakfast was an almost exact replica of the meal of yesterday the pile of letters brought in by church was rather smaller however these letters were a new difficulty they would all have to be answered the ones of yesterday and the ones of to-day he would have to secure the services of a typist and a typewriter that could be arranged later on he placed them aside and opened a newspaper he was accustomed enough now to his situation to be able to take an interest in the news of the day at any moment his environment might split to admit of a new voles or spicer or perhaps some more dangerous specter engendered from the dubious past of rochester but he scarcely thought of this he had gone beyond fear he was up to the neck in the business he glanced at the news of the day reading as he ate then he pushed the paper aside the thought had just occurred to him that rochester had paid that eight thousand not to shield a woman's name but to shield his own to prevent that gibberish being read out against him in court

this thought dimmed what had seemed a brighter side of rochester that obscure thing which jones was condemned to unveil little by little and bit by bit he pushed his plate away and at this moment mr church entered the breakfast-room he came to the table and speaking in half-lowered voice said lady plinleiman to see you your lordship lady plinlyman yes your lordship i have shown her into the smoking-room jones had finished breakfast he rose from the table gathered the letters together and with them in his hand followed church from the breakfast-room to the smoking-room a big woman in a big hat was seated in the arm-chair facing the door she was forty if an hour she had a large unpleasant face a dominating face fat featured selfish and made up by art oh here you are said she as he entered and closed the door you see i'm out early jones nodded went to the cigarette box took a cigarette and lit it the woman got up and did likewise she blew the cigarette smoke through her nostrils and jones as he watched knew that he detested her then she sat down again she seemed nervous is it true what i hear that your sister has left you and gone to live with your mother yes said jones remembering the bird woman of yesterday morning well you'll have some peace now unless you let her back but i haven't come to talk of her it's just this i'm in a tight place oh a very tight place i've got to have a tight place i've got to have a tight place i've got to have a tight place i've got to have a tight place i've got to have

have some money. I've got to have it today. Oh? Yes. I ought to have had it yesterday, but a deal I had on fell through. You've got to help me, Arthur. How much do you want? 1,500. I'll pay it back soon. Fifteen hundred pounds? Yes, of course. A great white light, cold, cold, and clear as the dawn of truth, began to steal across the mind of Jones. Why had this woman come to him this morning so quickly after the defeat of Volz, who held her letters? How had Volz obtained those letters?

This question had occurred to him before, and this question seemed to his practical mind pregnant now with possibilities. What do you want the money for? asked he. good heavens what a question what does a woman want money for i want it that's enough what else will you ask what was the deal you expected money from yesterday a stock exchange business what sort of business she crimsoned with anger i haven't come to talk of that i came as a friend to ask you for help if you refuse well there that ends it oh no it doesn't said he i want to ask you a question well ask it it's a simple question go on you expected to receive fifteen hundred pounds yesterday i did did you expect to receive it from mr a s voules he saw at once that she was guilty she half rose from her chair then she sat down again what on earth do you mean she cried

you know quite well what i mean replied he you would have had fifteen hundred of voles takings on those letters you heard last night i had refused to part he was only your agent there's no use in deny it he told me all her face had turned terrible white as death with the ruse showing on the white it is all untrue she stuttered it is all untrue she rose staggering he did not want to pursue the painful business the pursuit of a woman was not in his line he went to the door and opened it for her it is all untrue i'll write to you about this untrue she uttered the words as she passed out he reckoned she knew the way to the hall door and shutting the door of the room he turned to the fireplace he was not elated he was shocked it seemed to him that he had never touched and handled wickedness before and this was a woman in the highest ranks of life she had trapped rochester into making love to her and used voles to extort eight thousand pounds from him on account of his letters she had hypnotized rochester like a fowl she was that sort held the divorce court over him as a threat could humanity descend lower he went to who's who and turned up the peas till he found the man he wanted plin lyman third baron created eighteen thirty one albert james born march tenth eighteen sixty two o s of second baron and julia daughter of j h thompson of clifton married sephira daughter of marcus mullhausen

educated privately address the roost tight street chelsea thus spake who's who i bet my bottom dollar that chap's been in it as well as she said jones referring to plin lyman albert james then a flash of humor lit the situation voles had returned eight thousand pounds as an agent he had received twenty-five per cent say therefore he stood to lose at least six thousand this pleased jones more even than his victory he had a racial radical soul-rooted antipathy to voles not an anger against him just an antipathy now said he as he placed who's-who back on the bureau let's get off and see mortimer collins he left the house and calling a taxi-cab ordered the driver to take him to sergeant's-he's-he back to sergeant's in. He had no plan of campaign as regards Collins. He simply wanted to explore and find out about himself. Knowledge to him, in his extraordinary position, was armor, and he wanted all the armor he could get, fighting, as he was, not only the living present, but also another man's past, and another man's character or want of character end of chapter ten recording by roger maline chapter eleven of the man who lost himself this liber vogue's recording is in the public domain

recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpole chapter eleven the coal mine sergeants in lies off fleet street a quiet court surrounded with houses given over to the law the law has always lived there ever since that time when as stow quaintly put it there is in and about the city a whole university as it were of students practisers and pleaders and judges of the laws of this realm not living of common stipends as in other universities it is for the most part done but of their own private maintenance as being fed either by their places or practices or otherwise by their proper revenue or exhibition of parents or friends of their houses there be at this day fourteen in all whereof nine do stand within the liberties of this city and five in the suburbs thereof sergeant's inn stood within the liberties and there to-day it still stands dusty sedate, once the abode of judges and sergeants, now the home of solicitors. On the right of entrance lay the offices of Mortimer Collins, an elderly man, quiet, subfusk and hue, tall, sparsely bearded, a collector of old prince in his spare hours,

and one of the most respected members of his profession. His practice lay chiefly amongst the nobility and landed gentry, a fact vaguely hinted at by the white or yellow lettering on the tin deed boxes that lined the walls of his offices, setting forth such names and statements as, The Cave Estate, Sir Jardine, Jardine, the Blundell Estate, and so forth and so on. He knew everyone, and everything about everyone, and terrible things about some people, and he was to be met with at the best houses.

People liked him for himself, and he inspired the trust that comes from liking. It was to this gentleman that Jones was shown in, and it was by this gentleman that he was received coldly, it is true, but politely. Jones, with his usual directness, began the business. "'I have come to have a serious talk with you,' said he, "'Indeed,' said the lawyer. "'Has anything new turned up?'

"'No, I want to talk about my position, generally. I see that I have made a fool of myself.' The man of law raised his hands lightly with finger spread. The gesture was eloquent. "'But,' went on the other, "'I want to make good. I want to clear up the mess.' The lawyer sighed. Then he took a small piece.

piece of shammy leather from his waistcoat pocket and began to polish his glasses. "'You remember what I told you the day before yesterday?' said he. "'Have you determined to take my advice?' "'Then you had nothing to offer me but some wild talk about suicide.' "'What advice?' Collins made an impatient gesture. "'Advice! Why do emigrate and try your luck in the colonies?' hmm hum said jones yes i remember but since then i have been thinking things out i'm going to stay here and make good again the lawyer made a gesture of impatience you know your financial position as well as i do said he how are you to make good as you express it against that position you can't you're hopelessly involved held at every point

a month ago i told you to reduce your establishment and let carlton house terrace you said you would and you didn't that hurt me i would much sooner you would refuse the suggestion well the crash if it does not come to-day will come to-morrow you are overdrawn at coutes you can raise money on nothing your urgent debts to tradesmen and so forth a mile as you told me the day before yesterday, to over two thousand five hundred pounds. See for yourself how you stand. I say again, said Jones, that I am going to make good. All these affairs seem to have gone to pieces because I have been a fool. I'm glad you recognize that. But I'm a fool no longer.

You know that business about Volz? The man of affairs nodded. Well, what do you think of that? He took Volz's check from his pocket and laid it before the lawyer. Why, what is this? said the other. Eight thousand pounds. He called on me for more blackmail, replied Jones, and I squeezed him, called in a policeman, made him disgorge, and there's his check.

Do you think he? He has money enough to meet it? Oh, yes, he is very wealthy, but you told me distinctly he had only got a thousand out of you. Jones swore mentally. To take up the life and past of a rogue is bad. To take up the life and past of a weak need and shifty man is almost worse. I told you wrong, said he.

Collins suppressed a movement of irritation and disgust. He was used to dealing with humanity. What can a doctor do for a patient who holds back essential facts? asked he. Nothing. How can I believe what you say? I don't know, replied the other. But I just ask you to. I ask you to believe I'm changed. I've had a shock that has altered my whole nature.

I'm not the same man who talked to you the day before yesterday. collins looked at him curiously you have altered said he your voice is different somehow too i'm not going to ask you what has brought about this change in your views i only trust it may be so and permanent bedrock said jones i'm going to begin right now i'm going to let that caravan caravan the carlton house place your idea is good will you help me through with it i don't know how to start letting places i will certainly assist you in fact i believe i can get you a tenant at once the brace bridges want just such a house furnished i will get my clerk to write to them if you really mean it i mean it well that's something i pressed the point of it about you are really meaning it, because you were so violently opposed to such a course when I spoke of it before. In fact, you were almost personal, as though I had proposed something disgraceful, though it was true you came to agree with me at last.

I guess the only disgrace is owing money and not being able to pay, said the present Lord, Rochester. I've come to see that now. Thank God, said God. Collins. I'll take rooms at a quiet hotel, went on the other. With this $8,000 and the rent from that gazebo, I ought to tide over the rocks. I don't see why not.

I don't really see why not, replied Collins cheerfully, if you are steadfast in your purpose. Fortunately, your wife's property is untouched. And how about her? Yes, said John. jones with a cold shiver the love of a good wife went on the other is a thing not to be bought and i may say i have very good reason to believe that despite all that has occurred you still have your wife's affection leaving everything else aside i think your greatest mistake was having your sister to live with you it does not do and considering miss birdbrook's peculiar temper it especially did not do in your case.

Now that things are different, would you care to see your wife and have a quiet talk over matters? No, said Jones hurriedly. I don't want to see her, at least not yet. Well, please yourself, replied the other. Perhaps later on you will come to see things differently. The conversation then closed, the lawyer promising to let him know should he secure an offer for the house.

jones so disturbed by this talk about his wife that he was revolving in his mind plans to cut the whole business said good-bye and took his departure but he was not destined to leave the building just yet he was descending the narrow old stairs when he saw some people coming up and drew back to let them pass a stout lady led the way and was followed by an elderly gentleman and a younger lady in a large hat why it is arthur cried the stout woman how fortunate arthur we have come to see mr collins such a terrible thing has happened the unfortunate jones now perceived that the lady with the huge hat was the bird woman the elderly gentleman he had never seen before but the elderly gentleman had evidently often seen him was most probably a near relative to judge by the frigidity and insolence of his nod and general demeanor this old person had the army stamp about him and a very decided chin with a cleft in it better not talk out here said he come in come in and see collins jones did not want in the least to go in and see collins but he was burning to know what this dreadful thing was that had happened he half dreaded that it had to do with rochester's suicide he followed the party and next moment found himself again in collins room where the lawyer pointed out chairs to the ladies closed the door to the door and came back to his desk table where he seated himself.

"'Oh, Mr. Collins,' said the elderly lady, "'such a dreadful thing has happened. "'Cole! They have found coal!' she collapsed. The old gentleman with the cleft chin took up the matter. "'This idiot,' said he, indicating Jones, "'has sold a coal mine, worth maybe a minute, for five thousand the glenafwin property has turned up coal i only heard of it last night and by accident struthers said to me straight out in the club do you know that bit of land in glomorgan rochester sold to marcus mullhausen yes i said well said he it's not land it's the top of the biggest coal mine in wales

steam coal, and Mulhousen is going to work it himself. He was offered two hundred and fifty thousand for the land last week. They have been boring there for the last half year. That's what he told me, and I verified it this morning. Of course, Mulhousen spotted the land for what it was worth and laid his trap for this fool. Jones restrained his emotions with an effort, not knowing in the least his relationship to the violent one mr collins made it clear your nephew has evidently fallen into a trap your grace said he then turning to jones

i warned you not to sell that land heaven knows i knew little enough of the district and less of its mineral worth still i was adverse from parting with land always m and especially to such a sharp customer as Mulhousen. I told you to have an expert opinion. I had not minerals in my mind. I thought, possibly, it might be some railway extension in prospect. And it was your last bit of property without mortgage on it. Yes, I told you not to do it, and it's done. Oh, Arthur, sighed the elderly woman.

Your last bit of land. And to think it should go like, like that. I never dreamed I should have to say those words to my son, then stiffening and turning to Collins. But I did not come to complain. I came to see if justice cannot be done. This is robbery. That terrible man with the German name has robbed Arthur. It is quite plain. What can be done? Absolutely nothing, replied Collins. Nothing. Your ladyship must believe me when I say nothing can be done.

What ground can we have for moving? The sail was perfectly open and above board. Mulhausen made no false statement. I am right in saying that, am I not? Turning to Jones. Jones had to nod. And that being the case, we are helpless. But if it can be proved that he knew there. was coal on the land and if he bought it concealing that knowledge surely surely the law can make him give it back said the simple old lady who it would seem stood in the place of rochester's unfortunate mother mr collins almost smiled your ladyship that would give no handle to the law now for instance if i knew that the canadian pacific railway let us say had discovered covered large coal-bearing land, and if I use that private knowledge to buy your Canadian Pacific

stock at, say, 100, and if that stock rose to 300, could you make me give you your stock back? Certainly not. The gain would be a perfectly legitimate product of my own sharpness. Sharpness, said the bird woman. That's just it. If Arthur had had even sense, to say nothing of sharpness, things would have been very different all around, all round!' she protruded her head from her boa and retracted it. Jones, furious, dumb, with his hands in his pockets and his back against the window, said nothing. He never could have imagined that a baiting like this, over a matter with which he had nothing to do, could have made him feel such a fool and such an ass.

he saw at once how rochester had been done and he felt against all reason the shame that rochester might have felt but probably wouldn't his uncle the duke of melford for that was the choleric one's name his mother the dowager countess of rochester and his sister the hon venetia birdbrook now all rose up and got together in a covey before making their exit and leaving this bad business and the fool who had brought it about you can fancy their feelings a man in rochester's position may be anything almost as long as he is wealthy but should he add the crime of poverty to his other sins he is lost indeed and rochester had not only flung his money away he had flung a coal mine after it no wonder that his uncle did not even glance at him again as he left the room shepherding the two women before him it's unfortunate said collins when they found themselves alone it was the mildest thing he could say and he said it end of chapter eleven recording by roger maline chapter twelve of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter twelve the girl in the victoria when jones found himself outside the office at last and in the bustle of fleet street he turned his steps westwards he had almost forgotten the half-formed determination to throw down his cards and get up from this strange game

which he had formed when collins had asked him whether he would not have an interview with his wife this coal-mine business pushed everything else aside for the moment the thought of that deal galvanized the whole business side of his nature so that as he would have said himself bristles stood on it a mine worth a million pounds traded away for twenty-five thousand dollars he was taking the thing to heart as though he himself had been tricked by mullhausen and now as he walked a block in the traffic brought him back from his thoughts and suddenly a most appalling sensation came upon him for a moment he had lost his identity for a moment he was neither rochester nor jones but just a void between these two for a moment he could not tell which he was for a moment he was neither that was the terrible part of the feeling it was due to overtaxation of the brain in his extraordinary position and to the intensive manner in which he had been playing the part of rochester it lasted perhaps only a few seconds for it is difficult to measure the duration of mental processes and it passed as rapidly as it had come seeing a bar he entered it and a small glass of brandy closed the incident and made him forget it he asked the way to koutz bank which in sixteen ninety two was situated at the three crowns in the strand next door to the globe tavern and which still holds the same position in the world of commerce and nearly the same in the world of bricks and mortar he reached the door of the bank and was about to enter when something checked him it was the thought that he would have to endorse the check with rochester's signature

he had copied it so often that he felt competent to make a fair imitation but he had begun life in a bank and knew the awful eye a bank has for a customer's signature his signature at least rochester's must be well known at kout's it would never do to put himself under the microscope like that besides and this thought only came to him now it might be just as well to have his money in some place unknown to others collins and all that terrible family knew that he was banking at coutes even might arise when it would be very necessary too for him to be able to lay his hands on a secret store of money he had passed the national provincial bank in the strand the name sounded safe and he determined to go there he reached the bank sent his name into the manager and was at once admitted the manager was a solid man semi-bald with side whiskers and an air of old english business respectability delightful in these new and pushing days he received the phantom of the earl of rochester with the respect due to their mutual positions jones between couch and the national provincial had done a lot of thinking he foresaw that even if he were to give in a passable imitation of rochester's signature all checks signed in future would have to tally with that signature now a man's handwriting though varying has a personality of its own and he doubted very much as to whether he would be able to keep up that personality under the microscopic gaze of the bank people he decided on a bold course he would retain his own handwriting it was improbable that the national provincial had ever seen rochester's autographs

Even if they had, it was not a criminal thing for a man to alter his style of writing. He endorsed the check Rochester, gave a sample of his signature, gave directions for a checkbook to be sent to him at Carleton House Terrace, and took his departure. He had changed Rochester's five-pound note before going to Collins, and he had the change in his pocket, four pounds, sixteen, and six-pence. five pounds less the price of a cigar at the tobacconists where he had changed his note the taxi to sergeants inn and the glass of liquor brandy he remembered that he still owed for his luncheon yesterday at the senior conservative and he determined to go and pay for it and then lunch at some restaurant never again would he have luncheon at that conservative caravan sarai so he told himself

with this purpose in mind he was standing waiting to cross the road near southampton street when a voice sounded in his ear and an arm took his hello rocci said the voice jones turned and found himself arm in arm with a youth of eighteen so he seemed a gilded youth if there ever was a gilded youth immaculately dressed cheery and with a frank face that was a entirely pleasing. Hello, said Jones. What became of you that night? asked the cheery one, as they crossed the road still arm in arm. Which night?

Which night? Why, the night they shot us out of the rag-tag club? Are you asleep, Rochester? Or what ails you? Oh, I remember, said Jones. They had unlinked, now and walking along together they passed up southampton street and threw henrietta street towards lyster square the unknown doing all the talking a task for which he seemed well qualified he talked of things events and people absolutely unknown to his listener of horses and men and women he talked jones into bond street and jones went shopping with him assisting him in the choice of

two dozen colored socks at beale and innmans outside the hosiers the unknown was proposing luncheon when a carriage and opened victoria going slowly on account of the traffic drew jones's attention it was a very smart turnout one horsed but having two liveried servants on the box a coachman and a footman with powdered hair in the victoria was seated one of the prettiest girls ever beheld by Jones. A lovely creature, dark, with deep, dreamy, vague, blue-gray eyes, and a face! Ah, what pen could describe that face! So mobile, piquant, and filled with light and inexpressible charm. She had caught Jones's eye, she was gazing at him curiously, half mirthfully, half wrathfully, it seemed, to him. And now, to his amazement, she made a little movement of the head, as if to say, come here. At the same moment, she spoke to the coachman.

Portman, stop, please. Jones advanced, raising his hat. I just want to tell you, said the beauty, leaning a little forward, that you are a silly, old ass. Venetia has told me all. It's nothing to me. but don't do it. Portman, drive on. Good Lord, said Jones, as the vehicle passed on its way, bearing off its beautiful occupant,

of whom nothing could now be seen but the lace-covered back of a parasol. He rejoined the unknown. Well, said the latter, what has your wife been saying to you? My wife, said Jones. Well, well, your late wife, though you ain't divorced yet, are you?

No, said Jones. He uttered the word mechanically, scarcely knowing what he was saying. That lovely creature, his wife? Rochester's wife? Get in, said the unknown, he had called a taxi. Jones got in. Rochester's wife.

The contrast between her and Lady Plin-Lyman suddenly arose before him, together with the folly of Rochester seen gigantically and in a new light. The taxi drew up in a street off Piccadilly. They got out. The unknown paid and led the way into a house, whose front door presented a modest brass doorplate inscribed with the words, Mr. Carr. They passed along a passage, and then downstairs to a large room, where small, card tables were set out. An extraordinary room, for occupying nearly half of one side of it, stood a kitchen range, over which a cook was engaged broiling chops and kidneys and all the other elements of a mixed grill. Old-fashioned pictures of sporting celebrities hung in the walls,

and opposite the range stood a dresser, laden with priceless old-fashioned crockery wear. Off this room lay the dining-room, and the whole place had an atmosphere of comfort, and the days gone by when days were less laborious than our days, and comfort less allied to glitter and tinsel. This was Cars Club. The unknown sat down before the visitor's book, and began to write his own name and the name of his guest. Jones, looking over his shoulder, saw that his name,

was Spence, Patrick Spence. Sir Patrick Spence, for one of the attendants addressed him as Sir Patrick. A mixed grill, some cheese and draft beer in heavy pewter tankards, constituted the meal, during which the locacious Spence kept up the conversation. I don't want to poke my nose into your affairs, said he, but I can see there's something worrying you. You're not the same chap. is it about the wife no said jones it's not that well i don't want to dig into your confidences and i don't want to give you advice if i did i'd say make it up with her you know very well rachie you haven't led her the deuce of a dance your sister got me on about it the other night at the vernon's we had a long talk about you rachie and we agreed you were the best of chaps but you too much given to gaiety and promiscuous larks.

You should have heard me holding forth. But, joking apart, it's time you and I settle down, old chap. You can't put old heads on young shoulders, but our shoulders ain't so young as they used to be, Rachi. And I want to tell you this. If you don't hitch up again in harness, the other party will do a bolt. I'm dead serious.

It's not the thing to say to another man. but you and I haven't any secrets between us, and we've always been pretty plain one to the other. Well, this is what I want to say, and just take it as it's meant. Manilov is after her. You know that, chap, the attaché at the Russian's embassy. Chap like a billiard marker,

always at the other end of a cigarette. Other names Boris. Hasn't a penny to bless himself with? I know he hasn't. for I've made kind inquiries about him through Lewis, reason why. He wanted to buy one of my racers for export to Roushah. Seven hundred down and the balance in six months. Lewis served up his pass to me on a charger.

The chap's rotten with debt, divorced from his wife, and a punter at Monte Carlo. That's his real profession and card-playing. He's a sleepy Slav, and if he's a sleepy Slav, and if he was told his house was on fire, he'd say, Nchevo, meaning it don't matter. It's well insured. If he had a house to insure, which he hasn't. But women like him. He's that sort.

But heaven helped the woman that marries him. He'd take her money and herself off to Monty, and when he'd broken her heart and spoiled her life and spent her coin, he'd leave her and go off and be Russian attache in Japan or somewhere. I know him. Don't let her do it, Rachi. But how am I to help it? asked the perplexed Jones, who saw the meaning of the other.

It did not matter in reality to him, whether a woman he had only seen once were to bolt with a Russian and find ruination at Monte Carlo. But this world is not entirely, a world of reality, and he felt a surprisingly strong resentment at the idea of the girl in the Victoria bolting with a Russian. It will be remembered that in Collins' office, the lawyers talk about his wife had almost decided him to throw down his cards and quit. This shadowy wife, first mentioned by the bird woman, had in fact been the one vaguely felt insuperable

obstacle in the way of his grand determination to make good where Rochester had failed, to fight Rochester's battles, to be the Earl of Rochester permanently, maybe, or failing that, to retire and vanish back to the states with honorable pickings. The sight of the real thing had, however, altered the whole position. Romance had suddenly touched Victor Jones. The gorgeous, but sordid veils through which he had been pushing had split to some mystic wand, and had become the foliage of fairyland. I want to tell you, you are an old ass. Those words were surely enough to shatter any dream, to turn to pathos any situation. In Jones's case, they had acted as a most potent spell.

He could still hear the voice, wrathful, but with a tinge of mirthes, and with a tinge of mirth golden individual entrancing how are you to help it said spence why go and make up with her again kick old nashavo women like chaps that kick other chaps they pretend they don't but they do either do that or take a gun and shoot her she'd be better shot than with that fellow he lit a cigarette and they passed into the card-room where spence looking at his watch declared that he must be off to keep an appointment they said good-bye in the street and jones returned to carlton house terrace he had plenty to think about the pile of letters waiting to be answered on the table in the smoking-room reminded him that he had forgotten a most pressing necessity a typist he could sign letters all right with a very good imitation of rochester's signature but a holograph letter in the same hand was beyond him then a bright idea came to him why not answer these letters with sixpenny telegrams which he could hand in himself he found a sheaf of telegraph forms in the bureau and sat down before the letters dealing with them one by one and as relevantly as he could it was a rather interesting and amusing game and when he had finished he felt fairly satisfied. Offly sorry, can't come, was the reply to the dinner invitations. The letter

signed Childersly, worried him, till he looked up the name in who's who, and found a lord answering to it at the same address as that on the note paper. He had struck by accident on one of the alleviations of a major misery of civilized life, replying to letters, and he felt like patenting it. He left the house with a sheaf of telegrams, found the nearest post office, which is situated directly opposite to Charing Cross Station, and returned. Then, lighting a cigar, he took the friendly and indefatigable who's who upon his knee, and began to turn the pages indolently. It is a most interesting volume for an idle moment, full of scattered romance, tales of struggle and adventure, compressed into a few lines, peeps of history, and with epitaphs of still living

men. I want to tell you, you are an old ass! The word, still sounding in his ears, made him turn again to the name Plinleiman. The contrast between Lady Plinleiman and the girl, whose vision dominated his mind, rose up again sharply at sight of the printed name. ass that name did not apply to rochester to fit him with an appropriate pseudonym would be impossible fool idiot sumpf jones tried them all on the image of the defunct but they were too small plen lyman third baron read jones created eighteen thirty one albert james born march tenth eighteen sixty six O.S. of Second Baron and Julia, daughter of J. H. Thompson of Clifton.

Married Safira, daughter of Marcus Mulhousen. Educated privately. Address, the Roost, Tite Street, Chelsea. Mulhousen. He almost dropped the book. Mulhousen. Collins, his office, and. that terrible family party all rose up before him. Here was the scamp who had diddled Rochester out of the coal mine, the father of the woman who had diddled him out of thousands.

The paragraph in Who's Who turned from printed matter to a nest of wriggling vipers. He threw the book on the table, rose up, and began to pace the floor. The girl wife in the Victoria, his own. own position. Everything was forgotten before the monstrous fact half guessed, half seen. Rochester had been plucked right and left by these harpies. He had received five thousand pounds for land worth a million from the father. He had paid eight thousand, or a good part of eight thousand, to the daughter. Fine business that. I compared Jones, when he was fighting voles, to a terrier.

He had a good deal of the terrier in his composition, the honesty, the rooting-out instinct, and the fury before vermin. Men run in animal groups, and if you study animals, you will be surprised by nothing so much as the old race fury that breaks out in the most civilized animal before the old race quarry or enemy. For a few seconds, as he paced the floor, Jones was in the mental condition of a dog in proximity to a hutched badger. Then he began to think clearly.

The obvious fact before him was that Vols, the Plinleimans and Mulhousins, were a gang. The presumptive fact was that the money paid in blackmail had gone back to Mulhousen, or at least a great part of it. Was Mulhousen the spider of the web? were all the rest his tools and implements jones had a good deal of instinctive knowledge of women he did not in his heart believe that a woman could be so utterly vile as to use love-letters directed to her for the purpose of extracting money from the man who wrote them or rather that whilst she might use them it was improbable that she would invent the method the whole business had the stamp of a mind masculine and utterly unscrupulous even at first he had glimpsed this vaguely when he considered it probable that lord plin lyman had a hand in the affair now thought jones if i could bring this home to mullhausen i could squeeze back that-the-reveldehm i could squeeze back that coal mine from him. I could, sure. He sat down and lit another cigar to assist him in dealing

with this problem. It was very easy to say squeeze Mulhousen. It was a different thing to do it. He came to this conclusion after a few minutes earnest concentration of mind on that problematical person. Hitherto he had been dealing with small men and wasters. voles was a plain scoundrel quite easily overthrown by direct methods but marcus mullhausen he guessed to be a big man the first thing to be done was to verify this supposition he rang the bell and sent for mr church come in said he when the latter appeared and shut the door i want to ask you something yes my lord it's just this-it's just this i want you to tell me what you think of lord plin lineman and what you have heard said about him i have my own opinions i want yours well my lord began church it's not for me to say anything against his lordship but since you ask me i will say that it's generally the opinion that his lordship is a bit soft do you think he's straight yes my lord that is to say spit it out said jones

well my lord he owes money that's well known and i've heard it said a good deal of money has been lost at cards in his house but not through his fault indeed you yourself said something to me to that effect my lord yes so i did but what i want to get at is this do you think he's a man who would do a scoundrely thing that's plain oh no my lord he's straight enough it's the other party meaning his wife no my lord her brother mr julian ah church warmed a bit he's always about there lives with them mostly you see my lord he has no what you may call status of his own but he manages to get known to people through her ladyship kind of sucker said jones mr church assented the expression was new to him but it seemed to apply then jones dismissed him the light was becoming clearer and clearer here was another member of the gang another instrument of marcus mullhausen to-morrow said jones to himself i will go for these chaps vols is the key to the lot of them and i have voles completely under my thumb then he put the matter from his mind for a while and fell to thinking of the girl his wife or rochester's wife the strange thought came to him that she was a widow and did not know it he dined out that night going to a little restaurant in soho and he returned to bed early so as to be fresh for the business of the morrow

he had looked himself up again in who's who and found that his wife's name was teresa teresa the name pleased him very very vaguely, and now that he had captured it, it struck like a burr in his mind. If he could only make good over the Mulhousen proposition, recapture that mine, prove himself, would she, if he told her all, would she? He fell asleep murmuring the word Teresa. End of Chapter 12, recording by Roger Malene. of the man who lost himself.

This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. The Man Who Lost Himself by H. Devere Stackpole. Chapter 13. Teresa. He woke up next morning to find the vision of Teresa, Countess of Rochester. So he called her, standing by his bedside. Have you ever for a moment considered the influence of

women go to a public meeting composed entirely of men and see what a heavy affair it can be especially if you are a speaker sprinkle a few women through the audience and behold the livening effect at a party or a public meeting in the wheat pit or the battlefield women or the recollection of a woman form or forms one of the greatest liveners to conversation speech or action most men fight the battle of life for a woman jones as he sat up and drank his morning tea gazing the while at the vision of teresa countess of rochester had found almost unknown to himself a new incentive to action the position yesterday had begun to sag very little would have made him quit take a hundred pounds from the eight thousand and a passage by the next boat to the states but that girl in the victoria those eyes that voice those words they had altered everything was he in love perhaps not but he was fascinated held dazzled more than that the world seemed strange brighter he felt younger filled with an energy of a new brand he whistled as he crossed the floor to look out of the window and as he tubbed he splashed the water about like a boy it was easy to see that the unfortunate man had tumbled into a position more fantastic and infinitely more dangerous than any position he had hitherto occupied since setting foot in the house of rochester that vanished and fantastic humorist would have found plenty to feed his thoughts could he have returned

The check-book from the National Provincial Bank arrived by the first post, and after breakfast he put it aside in a drawer of the bureau in the smoking-room. He glanced through the usual sheaf of letters from unknown people, tradesmen whose accounts were marked account rendered, and gentlemen who signed themselves with the names of counties. One of the latter seemed indignant. I take this damn bad of you, Rochester, said he. I've found it out at last.

You are the man responsible for that telegram. I lost three days in a night's sleep, rushing up to Cumberland on a wild goose chase, and I'm telling people all about it. Someday you'll land yourself in a mess. Jokes that may be funny amongst board school boys are out of place amongst men. Langwithby

Jones determined to send Langwithby a telegram of apology when he had time to look his name up in who's who. Then he put the letters aside, called for his hat and cane, and left the house. He was going to Volz first. Volz was his big artillery. He guessed that the fight with Marcus Mulhausen would be a battle to the death.

he reckoned a lot on voles in trafalgar square he called a taxi and told the driver to take him to germine street end of chapter thirteen recording by roger maline part three chapter fourteen of the man who lost himself this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h devere stackpole part three chapter fourteen the attack a s voles moneylender and bill discounter lived over his business that is to say his office was his dining-room he owned the house in germine street jones dismissing the taxi rang the bell and was admitted by a manservant who not sure whether mr bulls was in or not invited the visitor into a small room on the right of the entrance hall and closed the door on him the room contained a desk table three chairs a big-scale map of london a phoenix insurance almanac and a photogravure reproduction of mona lisa the floor was covered with linoleum and the window gave upon a blank wall this was the room where creditors and stray visitors had to wait jones took a chair and looked about him humanity may be divided into three classes those who having seen adore those who tolerate and those who detest mona lisa

jones detested her that leery sleary slippery slippery poisonous face was hateful to him as the mask of a serpent he was looking at the lady when the door opened and in came voles vols looked yellower and older this morning but his face showed nothing of resentment the turning of the earl of rochester upon him had been the one great surprise of his life he had always fancied that he knew character and his fancy was not ill-founded his confidence in himself had been shaken good morning said jones i've come to have a little talk with you sit down said voles they seated themselves voles before the desk i haven't come to fight said jones just to talk you know that marcus maulhausen has got that that Welsh land from me for five thousand, and that it is worth maybe a million now?" Volz nodded. "'Well, Mulhousen has to give that property back.' Volz laughed.

"'You needn't laugh. You have seen my rough side. I'm holding the smooth towards you now, but there is no occasion to laugh. I'm going to skin, Mulhousen.' "'Well,' said Volz, what have i to do with that you are the knife oh yes indeed let's talk when you got that eight thousand from me you were only the agent of the plinleiman woman and she was only the agent of marcus she got something you got something but marcus got the most julian got something too but it was marcus got the joints he gave you three the head and the hoofs and the innards and the tail i've had it out with the plinleiman woman and i know you were a gang voles heaved up in his chair what more have you to say asked he thickly

a lot there is nothing more difficult to get at than a gang because they cover each other's traces i pay you a certain sum in cash you deduct your commission and hand the remainder over to the plinlayman woman she pays her paw and gets a few hundred to pay her milliner who's to prove anything no checks have passed just so said voles i'm glad you see my point, replied Jones. Now, if you can't untie a knot, you can always cut it if you have a knife, can't you? Voles shrugged his shoulders. Well, I said you were a knife, didn't I? And I'm going to cut this knot with you. See my point? Not in the least. I'm sorry, because that makes me speak plain, and that's unpleasant. This is my meaning. i have to get that property back or else i will go to the police and rope in the whole gang tell the whole story i will accuse marcus do you understand that marcus and marcus's daughter and marcus's son and you and i won't do that to-morrow i'll do it to-day to-night the whole caboodle of you will be in jail you said you hadn't come to fight cried voles what do you want

haven't you had enough for me yet you drive me like this it's dangerous i have not come to fight at least not you on the contrary when i get this property back if it turns out-you i've not come to fight at least not you on the contrary when i get this property back if it turns out worth a million, I'll maybe pay you your losses. You've been paying the piper for Marcus, it seems to me. I have, groaned Bowles. The two words proved to Jones that he was right all through. Well, it's Marcus I'm up against, and you have to help me. Then Volz began to speak. The something oriental in his nature, the something that had driven him rushing with outspread arms at the constable that evening began now to talk help against marcus what could he do against marcus why marcus mulhousen held him in the hollow of his hand marcus held everyone his daughter her husband his own son julian to say nothing of a s voles and others jones listened with patient attention to all this and when the other

had finished and wiped the palms of his hands on his handkerchief, said, But all the same, Marcus is held by the fact that he forms one of a gang. Bowles made a movement with his hand. Don't interrupt me. The head of a shark is the cleverest part of it, but it has to suffer with the body when the whole shark is caught. That's the fix Marcus is in. When I close on the lot of you, Marcus will be the first to get into the jug. now see here you have got to take my orders they won't be hard what are they you have got to write me a note which i will take to marcus telling him the games up the gangs burst and to deliver

why damn it what ails you said voles what ails me you aren't talking like yourself you have never been like yourself you have never been like yourself since you've taken this line. Jones felt himself changing color. In his excitement, he had let his voice run away with him. It doesn't matter a button whether I'm like myself or not, said he. You've got to write that note and do it now while I dictate. Volz drummed on the desk with his fingers, then he took a sheet of paper and an envelope from a drawer. Well, said he, what is it to be? Nothing alarming, said the other. Just three words. It's all up. How do you address him? Without reply, Voles wrote. Dear M, it's all up. That'll do, said Jones. Now sign your name and address the envelope. Volz did so. Jones put the letter in his pocket. "'Well,' said he, "'that ends the business.

"'I hope with this, and what I have to say to him, "'Marcus will part, "'and as I say, if things turn out as I hope, "'maybe I'll write your losses. "'I have no quarrel with you, only Marcus.' "'Suddenly Vol spoke. "'For God's sake,' said he, "'mind how you deal with that chap,

"'he's never been got the better of.' curse him go cautiously you never fear said jones end of chapter fourteen recording by roger maline chapter fifteen of the man who lost himself this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpole chapter fifteen the the attack continued jones had already obtained marcus mulhousin's address from the invaluable kelly mullhausen was a financier a financier is a man who makes money without a trade or profession and mullhausen had made a great deal of money despite this limitation during his twenty years of business life which had started humbly enough behind the counter of a pawnbrokers in the minories his offices were situated in chancery lane they consisted of three rooms an outer waiting-room a room inhabited by three clerks that is to say a senior clerk mr aronson and two subordinates and an inner room where mullhausen dwelt jones on giving his name was shown at once into the inner room where mullhausen was seated at his desk mullhausen was a man of sixty or so small fragile looking with gray side-whiskers and drowsy heavy-litted eyes he nodded to jones and indicated a chair

when he finished his work the reading of a letter placed it under an agate paperweight and turned to the newcomer what can i do for you this morning asked mullhausen you can just read this letter said jones he handed over voles's letter mulhousen put on his glasses open the letter and read it then he placed the open letter on top of the one beneath the agate paperway tore up the envelope and threw the two fragments into the waste-paper basket behind him anything more asked he yes replied the other a lot more let us begin at the beginning you have obtained from me a piece of real estate worth anything up to a million pounds you paid five thousand for it yes you have got to hand me that property back i beg your pardon said mulhousen do you refer to the glenofwin lands yes i see and i have to hand those back to you anything more no that's all i received your daughter's letters back from voles yesterday let's be plain with one another voles has confessed everything i have his confession under his own handwriting you are all in a net the whole gang of you you your daughter your son and voles you plucked me like a turkey you know the whole affair as well as i do and if i do not receive that property back before five o'clock to-day i shall go to the nearest police office and swear in information against you

i see said mulhousen without turning a hair you will put us all in prison will you not that would be very unpleasant very unpleasant indeed he rose went to some tin boxes situated on a ledge behind him took out his keys and opened one jones fancying that he was going to produce the title deeds felt a little jump at his thyroid cartilage this was victory without a battle but mr marcus mullhausen took no title deeds from the box he produced a letter case came back with it to the table and sat down then holding the letter-case before him he looked at jones over his glasses you rogue said mullhausen this was the most terrific moment in jones's life mullhausen from a criminal had suddenly become a judge he spoke with such absolute conviction ease sense of power and scorn that there could be no manner of doubt he held the winning cards he opened a letter-case and produced a paper here is the bill of exchange for two hundred and fifty pounds to which you forged sir plaidell toughnall's name said marcus mullhausen spreading the paper before him that was two years ago we all know sir plaidell and his easy-going ways he is so careless you thought he would never find out so good he would never find out so good he would never prosecute. But it came into my hands. It is my property, and I have no hesitation in dealing with

rogues. Now do you suppose for a moment that if I were moving against you in any unlawful way, which I deny, I would have done so without a protector? Could you find a better protection than this? The punishment for forgery, let me remind you, is five years penal servitude at the least. He looked down at the document with a cold smile, and then he glanced up again at his victim. Jones saw that he was done, done not by Marcus Mulhausen, but by Rochester. He had tripped over a kink in Rochester's character, just as a man trips over a kink in a carpet. Then rage came to him. The sight of the horrible scoundville with whiskers, triumphant,

and gloating, roused the dog in his nature and all the craft that lay hidden in him. He heaved a sigh, rose brokenly, and approached the desk and the creature behind it. You are a cleverer man than I am, said he. Shake hands and call it quits. Next moment he had snatched the paper from the fingers that held it, crumpled it, crammed it into his mouth. he rushed to the door and locked it whilst mullhausen screaming like a woman reached him and clutched him by the shoulders then swiftly turning jones gripped the financier by both arms and held him so chewing chewing chewing and facing the shouting other one they were hammering at the door outside mr aronson and the clerks useless people for breaking down door purposes were assisting their employer with their voices mainly the whole block of offices was raised and the boys and telephones were summoning the police meanwhile jones was chewing and the bill was slowly being converted into what the physiologist terms a bolus it took three minutes before the bolus properly salivated and raised by the tongue past the anterior pillars of the faeces then the

the epiglottis shut down and the bolus slipping over it and seized by the muscles of the esophagus passed to its destined abode jones had swallowed rochester's past or at least a most important part of it the act accomplished he sat down as a boa constrictor recoils itself still gulping marcus mullhausen rushed to the door and opened it a vast policeman stood before him behind the policeman crowded mr erinson and the clerks and behind these a dozen or two of the block dwellers eager for gory sights at a distance marcus looked round what's all this said he there is nothing wrong just a little dispute with a gentleman it is all over mr erinson clear the office constable here is two shillings for your trouble good day he shut the door on the disappointed crowd and turned to jones the battle was over end of chapter fifteen recording by roger maline chapter sixteen of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpole chapter sixteen a wild surprise at five o'clock that day the transference of the property was made out and signed by marcus mullhausen in mortimer collins's office and the glendophers when lands became again the property of the earl of rochester for the sum of five thousand pounds received and herewith acknowledged said the document

needless to say no five thousand pounds passed hands collins mystified asked no questions in the presence of mulhousen when the latter had taken his departure however he turned to jones did you pay him five thousand asked the lawyer not a cent replied the other well how have you worked the miracle then jones told you see how i had them coopered finished he well just as i was going to grab the kitty he played the ace of spades produced an old document he held against me yes i pondered for a moment then i came to him a swift conclusion, took the doc from him and ate it. You ate the document? Sure. Jones rubbed his stomach and laughed. Well, well, said the solicitor with curious acquiescence and want of astonishment after the first

momentary start caused by this surprising statement. We have the property back, that's the main thing. You remember, said Jones. Jones. I'd talk to you about letting that place. Carlton House Terrace? Yes. Well, that's off. I've made good. Do you see? Hmm, yes, replied Collins. I'll have enough money now to pay off the mortgages and things.

Undoubtedly, said Collins. But now, don't you think it would be a good thing if you were to tie this property up, so that mischance can't touch it? You have no children, it is true, but one never knows. Honestly, I think you would be well advised if you were to take precautions. Don't worry, said Jones brightly. I'll give the whole lot to my wife, when I can come to terms with her. That's good hearing, replied the other.

Then Jones took his departure, leaving the precious documents in the hands of the lawyer. he was elated he had proved the facts which he had not only guessed by instinct up to this that a rogue is the weakest person in the world before a plane dealer if the plane dealer has a weapon in his hand the almost instantaneous collapse of voles and mulhousin was due to the fact that they stood on rotten foundations he told himself now as he walked along homeward that he need not have eaten that document Malhausen would never have used it. If he had just gone out and called in a policeman, Malhausen, seeing him in earnest, would have collapsed. However, the thing was eaten and done with, and there was no use in troubling any more on the matter.

He had other things to think of. He had made good. He had saved the Rochester name and a state. He had recaptured one million eight thousand pounds, reckoning that the coal-bearing lands were worth a million, and more than that. He was a sane man, able to look after what he had recaptured. The Rochester family, if they knew, would have no cause to grumble at the interloper and the substitution of new brains and push in the place of decadence, craziness, and sloth.

The day when he had changed places with Rochester was the best day that had ever dawned for them. he was thinking this when all of a sudden that horrible unreal feeling he had suffered from once before came upon him again this time it was not a question of losing his identity it was a shuffle of his own taxed brain between two identities rochester jones jones rochester it seemed to him for the space of a couple of seconds that he could not tell which of those two individuals he was then the feeling passed and he resumed his way reaching carlton house terrace shortly after six he gave his hat and cane and gloves to the flunky who opened the door for him he had obtained a latch-key from church that morning but forgot to use it and was crossing the hall when a strain of music brought him to a halt the tones of a piano came from a door on the right some one was playing chaminade's valston's some one was playing chamenade's valstamre and playing it to perfection jones turned to the manservant who is that he asked it is her ladyship my lord she arrived half an hour ago her luggage has gone upstairs her ladyship jones thrown off his balance hesitated for a moment what ladyship could it be not surely that awful mother he crossed to the door opened it found a music-room and there seated at a piano the girl of the victoria

she was in outdoor dress and had not removed her hat she looked over her shoulder at him as he came in her face wore a half smile but she did not stop playing anything more fascinating more lovely more distracting than that picture it would be hard to imagine as he crossed the room she suddenly ceased playing and twirled round on the music stool i've come back said she juju i couldn't stand it you are bad but you are a lot lot better than your mother and venetia i'm going to try to put up with you a bit longer juju what makes you look so stiff and funny i don't know said jones passing his hand across his forehead i've had a hard day she looked at him curiously for a moment then pitiingly then kindly then she jumped up made him sit down on a big couch by the wall and took her seat beside him then she took his hand juju why will you be such a fool i don't know said jones the caress of the little jeweled hand destroyed his mental powers he dared not look at her just sat staring before him they told me all about the coal mine she went on at least venicia did and how they all bully ragged you venicia was great on that venisha waggled that awful gobbly jick head of hers while she was telling me they're mad over the loss of that coal thing oh juju i'm so glad you lost it's wicked i suppose but i'm glad

that's what made me come back the way they went on about you i listened and listened and then i broke out i said all i've wanted to say for the last six months to venicia you know she told me how you came home the other night i said nothing then just listened and stored it up then last night when they all got together about the coal mine i went on listening and storing it up blunders was there as well as your mother and venetia blunders said he had called you an ass and that you were then i broke out i said a whole lot of things well there it is so i came back there were other reasons as well i don't want to be alone i want to be cared for i want to be cared for when i saw you in bond street yesterday i i chujoo do you care for me yes said jones i want to confess i want to tell you something yes if you didn't care for me if i felt you didn't i'd yes kick right over the traces i would i couldn't go on as i have been going lonely like a lost dog she raised his fingers and rubbed them along her lips you will not be lonely said the unfortunate man in a muted voice you need not be afraid of that the utter inadequacy of the remark came to him like one of those nightmare recognitions encountered as a rule only in dreamland yet she seemed to find it sufficient her mind perhaps being engaged elsewhere

what would you have said if i had run away from you for good asked she would you have been sorry yes dreadfully are you glad i've come back i am honestly glad yes really glad yes truthfully really honestly glad yes truthfully really honestly glad yes well so am i said she she released his hand now go and play me something i want something soothing after venicia play me chopin spionato we used to be fond of that now the only thing that jones had ever played in his life was the star-spangled banner and that with one finger chopin spianato no he said i'd rather talk well talk then mercy there's the first gong a faint and far-away sound invaded the room throbbed and ceased she rose picked up her gloves which she had cast on a chair and then peeped at herself in a mirror by the piano you have never kissed me said she speaking as it were half to herself and half to him seeming to be more engaged in a momentary piercing criticism of the hat she was wearing than in thoughts of kisses he came towards her like a schoolboy then as she held up her face he imprinted a chaste kiss upon her right cheek-bone then the most delightful thing that had ever happened to mortal man happened to him two warm palms suddenly took his face between them and two moist lest lines suddenly took his face between them and two moist

lips met his own. Then she was gone. He took his seat on the music stool, dazed, dazzled, delighted, shocked, frightened, triumphant. The position was terrific. Jones was no Lothario. He was a straight, plain, commonsensical man with a high respect for women, and the position of leading character in a bad French comedy was not for him. Jones would just as soon have thought of kissing another man's wife as of standing on his head in the middle of Broadway. To personate another man and to kiss the other man's wife under that disguise would have seemed to him the meanest act any two-legged creature

could perform. And he had just done it. And the other man's wife had... Hoie! His face still. burned. She had done it because of his deception. He found himself suddenly face to face with the barrier that fate had been cunningly constructing and had now placed straight before him. There was no getting over it or under it. He would have to declare his position at once. And what a position to declare. She loved Rochester. All at once, that terrific fact appeared before him in its true proportions and its true meaning.

She loved Rochester. He had to tell her the truth. Yet to tell her the truth, he would have to tell her that the man she loved was dead. Then she would want proofs. He would have to bring up the Savoy Hotel people, fetch folk from America, disinter Rochester. Horror! He had never thought of that.

What had become a lot of? of Rochester. Up to this he had never thought once of what had become of the mortal remains of the defunct jester, nor had he cared a button. Why should he? But the woman who loved Rochester would care, and he, Jones, would become in her eyes a ghoul, a monstrosity, a horror. He felt a tinge of that feeling towards himself now. Up to this, Rochester had been, for him, a mechanical figure, an abstraction. But the fact of this woman's love had suddenly converted the abstraction into a human being. He could not possibly tell her that he had left the remains of this human being,

this man she loved, in the hands of unknown strangers, callously, as though it were the remains of an animal, he could tell her nothing. The game was up. He would have to quit. either that, or to continue the masquerade, which was impossible, or to tell her all, which was equally impossible.

Yet to quit would be to hit her cruelly. She loved Rochester. Rochester, despite all his wickedness, frivolity, shiftlessness, and general unworthiness, or perhaps because of these things, had been able to make this woman love him, take his part against his family and return to him to go away and leave her now would be the cruelest act cruel to her and just as cruel to himself fascinated and held by her as he was yet there was no other course open to him so he told himself so he tried to tell himself knowing full well that the only course open to him as a man of honor was a full confess

of the facts of the case. To sneak away would be the act of a coward. To impose himself on her as Rochester, the act of a villain. To tell her the truth, the act of a man. The result would be terrific, yet only by facing that result

could he come clear out of this business. For half an hour he sat, scarcely moving. He was up against that most insuperable obstacle, his own character. Had he been a crook, everything would have been easy. Being a fairly straight man, everything was impossible. He had got to this bedrock fact when the door opened and a servant made his appearance. Dinner is served, my lord. Dinner! He rose up and came into the hall. Standing there for a moment, undecided,

he heard a laugh and looked up she was standing in evening dress looking over the balustrade of the first landing why you are not dressed she said i-i forgot he answered something fell at his feet it was a rose she had cast it to him and now she was coming down the stairway towards him where he stood the rose in his hand and distraction at his heart. "'It is perfectly disgraceful of you,' said she, looking him up and down and taking the rose from him, and there is no time to dress now. You use him to be as careless as that,' she put the rose in his coat. "'I suppose it's from living alone for a fortnight with Venetia.

What would a month have done?' She pressed the rose flat with her little palm. Then she slipped her fingers in her. through the crook of his elbow and led him to the breakfast-room door she entered and he followed her the breakfast-table had been reduced in size and they dined facing one another across a bowl of blush roses that dinner was not a conversational success on the part of jones a fact which she scarcely perceived being in high spirits and full of information she was eager to impart it did not seem to matter to her in the last matter to her in the last thing she was eager to impart it did not seem to matter to her in the last least whether the flunkies in waiting were listening or not she talked of the family of your mater and blunders and v and other people touching it seemed on the most intimate matters and all with the lightness of tone and spirit that would have been delightful no doubt had he known the discussed ones more intimately and had his mind been open to receive pleasurable impressions he would have to tell her directly after dinner the whole of his terrible story it was as though fate were saying to him you will have to kill her directly after dinner

all that light-hearted chatter and new-found contentment all that brightness would die grief for the man she loved hatred of the man who had supplanted him anguish perplexity terror would take their places when the terrible meal was over she ordered coffee to be served in the music-room he lingered behind for a moment fiddling with a cigarette then when he came into the hall with the sweat standing in beads upon his forehead he heard the notes of the piano it was a mazurka of chopin's played with gaiety and bowels played with gaiety and bowels he heard the notes of the piano it was a mazurka of chopin's played with gaiety and bowels brilliancy, yet no funeral march ever sounded more fatefully in the ears of mortal. He could not do it. Then he turned the handle of the music-room door and entered. End of Chapter 16. Recording by Roger Maline.

Chapter 17 of the man who lost himself. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. the man who lost himself by h devere stackpool chapter seventeen the second honeymoon only three of the electric lights were on in the music-room in the rosy light and half-shadows the room looked larger than when seen in daylight and different she had wandered from the mazurka into petteruski's melody opus eight number three a lonesome sort of tune it seemed to him as he dropped into a chair crossed his legs and listened then as he listened he began to think up to this his thoughts had been in confusion chasing one another or pursued by the monstrosity of the situation now he was thinking clearly she was his that girl sitting there at the piano with the light upon her hair the light upon her bare shoulders and the sheenie fabric of her dress he had only to stretch out his hand and take her absolutely his and he had only met her twice she was the most beautiful woman in london she had a mind that would have made a plain woman attractive and a manner delightful full of surprises and contraries and tendernesses and she loved him

the arabian nights contained nothing like this nor had the brain that conceived tantalus risen to the heights achieved by accident and coincidence she finished the piece rose turned over some sheets of music and then came across the room floated across the room and took her perch on the arm of the great chair in which he was sitting then he felt her fingers on his hair i want to feel your bumps to see if you have improved juju your head isn't so flat as it used to be on top it seems a different shape somehow nicer blunders is as flat as a pancake on top of his head flatness runs in families i suppose look at venicia's feet juju have you ever seen her in felt bath slippers no i have and a long yellow dressing-gown and her hair on her shoulders all wet in rat tails i'm not a cat but she makes me feel like one and talk like one i want to forget her do you remember our honeymoon yes she had taken his hand and was holding it we were happy then let's begin again and let this be our second honeymoon and we won't quarrel once will we no we won't said jones she slipped down into the chair beside him pulled his arm around her and held up her lips now you're kissing me really she murmured you seemed half frightened before ju ju ju i want to make a confession

Yes? Well, somebody pretended to care for me very much a little while ago. Who was that? Never mind. I went last night to a dance at the Crawleys, and he was there. Yes? Yes, is that all you have to say? You don't seem to be very much interested.

I am, though. I don't want you to be too much interested, and go making scenes and all that, though you couldn't, for you don't know his name. Suffice to tell you, as the book say, he is a very handsome man, much, much handsomer than you, Jew. Well, listen to me.

He asked me to run off with him. Run off with him? Yes, to Spain. We were to go to Paris first, and then to Spain. Spain, at this time of year. What did you say? I said, Please don't be stupid.

I'd been reading a novel where a girl said that to a man who wanted to run off with her. She died at the end. But that's what she said at first. Fortunate, I remembered it. Why? Because, because for a moment

I felt inclined to say yes. I know it was dreadful, but think of my position, you going on like a moment. like that, and me all alone with no one to care for me. It's like a crave for drink. I must have someone to care for me, and I thought you didn't. So I nearly said yes. Once I had said what I did, I felt stronger. What did he say? He pleaded passionately, like the man in the book, and talked of roses and blue seas. He's not English.

i sat thinking of venicia in her felt bathroom slippers and yellow wrapper you know she reads st thomas a kempis and opens bazaars she opened one the other day and came back with her nose quite red and in a horrid temper i wonder what was inside that bazaar well i knew if i did anything foolish venicia would exult and that held me firm she's not wicked i believe that she is really good as far as she knows how, and that's the terrible thing about her. She goes to church twice on Sunday. She takes puddings and things to old women in the country. She opens bazaars and subscribes to ragged schools. Yet with one word she sets everyone by the ears. Well, when I got home from the dance, I began to think, and today, when they were all out, I had my boxes packed and came right back here. I'd have given anything to see their faces when they got home and found me gone.

She sprang up suddenly. A knock had come to the door. It opened, and a servant announced Miss Birdbrook. Venetia had not changed that evening. She was still in her big hat. She ignored Jones, and standing spoke tersely to Teresa. so you've left us yes replied the other i have come back here do you mind i said venicia it's not a question of my minding in the least only it was sudden and as you left no word as to where you are going we thought it best to make sure you are all right she took her seat uncomfortably on a chair and the countess of rochester perched herself again by jones

yes i am all right said she with her hand resting on his shoulder venisha gulped i am glad to know it she said we tried to make you comfortable i cannot deny that mother feels slightly hurt at having no word from you before leaving and one must admit that it cannot but seem strange to the servants you're going like that but of course that is entirely a question of taste you mean said teresa that it was bad taste on my part well i apologize i am sorry but the sudden craving to get back here was more than i could resist i would have written to-night oh it does not matter said venicia the thing is done well i must be going but have you both thought over the future and all that it implies have we juju asked the girl caressingly stroking jones head yes said jones i'm sure went on venicia with a sigh i have always done my best to keep things together i failed was it my fault no said teresa aching for her to be gone i am sure it was not i am glad to hear you say that i always said teresa aching for her to be gone i am sure it was not i am glad to hear you say that i always try to avoid interfering in your life. I never did, or only when ordinary prudence made me speak, as for instance in that baccarat business. Don't rake up old things, said Teresa, suddenly.

And the Williamson affair got in Venetia. Oh, I am the very last to rake up things, as you call it. I, for one, will say no more of things that have happened, but I must speak of things that affect myself what is affecting you just this you know quite well the financial position you know what the upkeep of this house means you can't do it you plainly can't do it your income is not sufficient but how does that affect you when tradespeople talk it affects me it affects us all why not let this house and live quiet somewhere in the country till things blow over what do you mean by things blowing over asked teresa one would think that you were talking of some disgrace that had happened venetia pulled up her long left-hand glove and moved as though about to depart she said nothing but looked at her glove during the whole of this time she had neither looked at nor spoken to jones nor included him by word in the conversation her influence had been working upon him ever since she entered the room he began now more fully to understand the part she had played in the life of rochester he felt that he wanted to talk to venicia as rochester had probably never talked a man once said to me that the greatest mistake a fellow can make is to have a sister to live with him after his marriage said jones

venicia pulled up her right-hand glove a sister that has had to face mad intoxication and worse can endorse that opinion said she what do you mean by worse fired teresa i mean exactly what i say replied venicia that is no answer do you mean that arthur has been unfaithful to me i did not say that well what can be worse than intoxication that is the only thing worse that i know of unless murder do you mean that he has murdered some one i will not let you drag me into a quarrel said venetia you are putting things into my mouth i think mad extravagance is worse than intoxication inasmuch as it is committed by reasonable people uninfluenced by drugs or alcohol i think insults leveled at inoffensive people are worse than the wildest deeds committed under the influence of that demon alcohol who are the inoffensive people who have been insulted good gracious well of course you don't know you have not had to interview people what people sir plaidell harcourt for instance who had sixteen pianos sent to him only last week to see to say nothing of pantecnacon vans and half the contents of herods and whitely's so that arlington street was blocked simply blocked the whole of last friday did he say arthur had sent them he had no direct proof but he knew there was no other man in london who would have done such a thing did you send them juju no said jones i did not

venisha rose you admitted to me yourself that you did said she i was only joking he replied teresa went to the bell and rang it good night said venicia after that i have nothing more to say thank goodness murmured teresa when she was gone she made me shiver with her talk about extravagance i've been horribly extravagant the last week when a woman is distracted she runs to clothes for relief anyhow i did i've got three new evening frocks and i want to show you them i've never known your taste wrong. Good, said Jones. I'd like to see them. Guess what they cost? Can't. Two hundred and fifty, and they are a bargain. You're not shocked, are you? Not a bit. Well, come and look at them. What's the time? Half past ten, she led the way upstairs. On the first landing, she turned to the left, opened a door and disclosed a bedroom where a maid was moving about arranging things and unpacking boxes a large cardboard box lay open on the floor it was filled with snow-white lingerie

the instinct to bolt came upon jones so strongly that he might have obeyed it only for the hand upon his arm pressing him down into a chair anne said the countess of rochester bring out my new evening evening gowns i want to show them then she turned to the cardboard box here's some more of my extravagance i couldn't resist them venicia nearly had a fit when she saw the bill look she exhibited frilled and snow-white things delicate and diaphanous and fit to be worn by angels then the dresses arrived and were laid out on the bed and inspected there was a black gown and a gray gown and a confection in pale blue if jones had been asked to price them he would have said a hundred dollars like most men he was absolutely unconscious of the worth of a woman's dress to a woman a purdy and a ten guinea birmingham gun are just the same and to a man a ten guinea bayswater's dress is little different if worn by a prety and a peysewinter's dress is little different if worn by a pretty girl from a seventy guinea bond street is it bond street rig out unless he is a man milliner jones said beautiful gave the palm to the blue and watched them carried off again by the maid he had left his cigarettes downstairs there were some in a box on a table she made him take one and lit it for him then she disappeared into a room adjoining returning in a few minutes dressed in a kimono covered with golden swallows and followed by the maid then she took her seat before a great mirror and the maid began to take down her hair and brush it

as the brushing went on she talked to the maid and to jones upon all sorts of subjects to the maid about the condition of her teresa's hair and a new fashion and hairdressing to jones about the opera the stoutness of caruso and kindred matters the hair having been arranged in one great gorgeous plate jones suddenly breaking free from a weird sort of hypnotism that had held him since first entering the room rose to his feet i'll be back in a minute said he he crossed the room reached the door opened it and passed out closing the door in the corridor he stood for half a moment with his hand to his head then he came down the stairs crossed the hall seized a hat and overcoat put them on and opened the hall door all the way down the stairs and across the hall he felt as though he were being driven along by some viewless force and now standing at the door that same force pushed him out of the house and on to the steps he closed the door came down the steps and turned to the right end of chapter seventeen recording by roger maline chapter eighteen of the man who lost himself this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpole chapter eighteen the mental trap it was a beautiful night warm and starlit the waning moon had just begun to rise in the east and as he turned into the green park a breath of tepid wind grass-scented and balmy blew in his face

he walked in the direction of buckingham palace where was he to go he had no ideas no plans he had failed in performing the duty that fate had arranged for him to perform him. He had failed, but not through cowardice, or at least not through fear of consequences to himself. The man who refuses to cut a lamb's throat, even though duty calls him to the act, has many things to be said for him. His distracted mind was not dealing with this matter, however. What held him entirely was the thought of her waiting for him, and how she would feel when she found he had deserted her. he had acted like a brute and she would hate him accordingly not him but rochester it was the same thing the old story hatred obloquy disdain leveled against rochester affected him as though it were leveled against himself he could not take refuge in his own personality even on the first day of his new life he had found that out at the club since then the struggle to maintain his position and the battles he had fought had steadily weakened his mental position as jones strengthened his position as rochester

the strange psychological fact was becoming plain though not to him that the jealousy he ought to have felt on account of this woman's love for rochester was not there this woman had fascinated him as women had perhaps never fascinated a man before. She had kissed him. She loved him. And though his reason told him quite plainly that he was Victor Jones, and that she loved and had kissed another man, his heart did not resent that fact. Rochester was dead. It seemed to him that Rochester had never lived. He left the park and came along Knightsbridge, still thinking of her sitting there, waiting for him. His mind, straying from that to the kiss, the dinner, the bowl of roses that stood between them. Her voice. Then all at once these considerations vanished, all at once, and like an extinguisher, fell on him that awful sensation of negation. His mind pulled this way and that between

contending forces, became a blank written across with letters of fire, forming the question, who am I? The acutest physical suffering could not have been worse than that torture of the overtaxed brain, that feeling that if he did not clutch at himself, he would become nothing. He ran for a few yards, then it passed, and he found himself beneath a lamp-post, recovering and muttering his own name rapidly to himself like a charm to exercise evil. Jones! Jones! Jones!

He looked around. There were not many people to be seen, but a man and woman a few yards away were standing and looking at him. They had evidently stopped and turned to see what he was about, and they went on when they saw him observing them. They must have thought him mad. The hot shame of the idea was a better stimulant than brandy.

He walked on. He was no longer thinking of the woman he had. just left he was thinking of himself he had been false to himself the greatest possession any man can have in the world is himself some men let that priceless property depreciate some improve it it is given to few men to tamper with it after the fashion of jones he saw this now and just as though a pit had opened before him he drew back he must stop this double life at once and become his own self in reality failing to do that he would meet madness he recognized this no man's brain could stand what he had been going through for long had he been left to himself he might have adapted his mind gradually to the perpetual shifting from jones to rochester and vice versa the woman had brought things to a crisis the horror that had now suddenly fallen on him the horror of the return of that awful feeling of negation the horror of losing himself cast all other considerations from his mind he must stop this business at once he would go away return straight to america that was easy to be done but would that save him would that save him

would that free him from this horrible clinging personality that he had so lightly cast around himself nothing is stranger than mind from the depth of his mind came the whisper no intuition told him that were he to go to timbuctoo rochester would cling to him that he would wake up from sleep fancying himself rochester and then that feeling would return what he required was the recognition by other people that he was himself jones that the whole of this business was a deception a stage play in real life their abuse their threats would not matter their blows would be welcome so he thought anything that would hit him back firmly into his real position in the scheme of things and save him from the dread of some day losing himself after a while the exercise and night air calmed his mind he had come to the great decision a decision immutable now since it had to do with the very core of his being he would tell her everything to-morrow morning he would confess all her fascination upon him had loosened its hold the terror had done that he no longer loved her had he ever loved her that was an open question or in other words a question no man could answer he only knew now that he did not crave for her regard only for her recognition of himself as jones she was the door out of this mental trap into which his mind had blundered

these considerations had carried him far into a region of mean streets and suburban houses it was long after twelve o'clock and he fell to thinking what he should do with himself for the rest of the night it was impossible to walk about till morning and he determined to return to carlton house terrace let himself in with his latch-key and slip upstairs to his room if by any chance she had not retired for the night and he chanced to meet her on the stairs or in the hall then the confession must be made forthwith it was after two o'clock when he reached the house he opened the door with his key and closing it softly crossed the hall and went up the stairs one of the hall lamps had been left burning evidently for him a lamp was burning also in the corridor he switched on the electric light in his room and closed the door then he heaved a sigh of relief undressed and got into bed all across the hall up the stairs and along the corridor he had been followed by the dread of meeting her and having to enter on that terrible explanation right away the craving to tell her all had been supplanted for the moment by the dread of the act in the morning it would be different he would be rested and have more command over himself so he fancied end of chapter eighteen recording by roger maline chapter nineteen of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter nineteen

escape closed he was awakened by mr church one has always to give him the prefix pulling up the blinds his first thought was of the task before him the mind does a lot of quiet business of its own when the blinds are down and the body is asleep and during the night his mind working in darkness had cleared up matters countered and cut off all sorts of fears and of the eyes objections and drawn up a definite plan. He would tell her everything that morning. If she would not take his word for the facts, then he would have a meeting of the whole family. He felt absolutely certain that explaining things bit by bit and detail by detail, he could convince them of the death of Rochester and his own existence as Jones, absolutely certain that they would not push matters to the point of publicity. he held a trump card in the property he had recovered from mullhausen were he to be exposed publicly as an impostor all about the plinlayman letters vols and mullhausen would come out

mullhausen that very astute practitioner would not be long in declaring that he had been forced to return the title deeds to protect his daughter's name voles would swear anything and their case would stand good on the proved fact that he had been forced to return the title deeds to protect his daughter's name voles would swear anything and their case would stand good on the proved fact that he, Jones, was a swindler. No, assuredly the family would not press the matter to publicity. Having drunk his tea, he arose, bathed, and dressed with a calm mind. Then he came downstairs. She was not in the breakfast room,

where only one place was laid, and, concluding that she was breakfasting in her own room, he sat down to table. After the meal, and with another sheet, of the infernal early post-letters in his hand, he crossed to the smoking-room, where he closed the door, put the letters on the table, and lit a cigar.

Then, having smoked for a few minutes and collected his thoughts, he rang the bell and sent for Mr. Church. Church, said he, when that functionary arrived, will you tell my wife I want to see her? Her ladyship left last night, your lordship, She left at ten o'clock, or a little after. Left? Where did she go to?

She went to the South Kensington Hotel, your lordship. Good heavens! What made her—why did she go? Ah, was it because I did not come back? I think it was, your lordship. Mr. Church spoke gravely and the least bit stiffly. It could easily be seen, that as an old servant and faithful retainer, he was on the woman's side of the business. I had to go out, said the other. I will explain it to her when I see her. It was on a matter of

importance. Thanks, that will do, church. Alone again, he finished his cigar. The awful fear of the night before, the fear of negation and the loss of himself, had vanished with a brain refreshed by sleep and before this fact. What a brute he had been. She had come back forgiving him for who knows what. She had taken his part against his traducers, kissed him. She had fancied that all was right and that happiness had returned, and he had coldly discarded her.

It would have been less cruel to have beaten her. She was a good, sweet woman. He knew that fact now, both instead. instinctively and by knowledge. He had not known it fully till this minute. Would it, after all, have been better to have deceived her and to have played the part of Rochester? That question occurred to him for a moment, to be at once flung away. It was not so much personal antagonism to such a course, nor the dread of madness owing to his double life that cast it out so violently, but the recognition of the goodness and lovableness of the woman.

Leaving everything else aside to carry on such a deception with her, even to think of it, was impossible. More than ever was he determined to clear this thing up and tell her all, and to his honor be it said his main motive now was to do his best by her. He finished his cigar, and then, going into the hall, obtained his hat, and left the house. He did not know where the South Kensington Hotel might be, but a taxi solved that question, and shortly before ten o'clock he reached his destination. Yes, Lady Rochester had arrived last night and was staying in the hotel, and whilst the girl in the manager's office was sending up his name and asking for an interview, Jones took his seat in the lounge. A long time,

nearly ten minutes elapsed and then a boy brought him her answer in the form of a letter he opened it never again this is good-bye t that was the answer he sat with the sheet of paper in his hand contemplating the shape and make of an arm-chair of wicker-work opposite him what was he to do he had received just the answer he might have neither more nor less it was impossible for him to force an interview with her he had overthrown voles climbed over mullhausen but the flight of stairs dividing him now from the private suite of the countess of rochester was an obstacle not to be overcome by courage or direct methods and he knew of no indirect method he folded up the paper and put it in his pocket then he left the hotel and took his way back to carlton house terrace if she would not see him she could not refuse to read a letter he would write to her and explain all he would write in detail giving the whole business circumstance by circumstance it would take him a long while he guessed that and ordinary note-paper would not do he had seen a stack of manuscript paper however in one of the drawers of the bureau and having shut the door and lit a cigarette he took some of the sheets of long foolscap ruled thirty-four lines to the page and sat down to the business this is what he said lady rochester i want you to read what follows carefully and not to form any opinion on the matter till all the details are before you

this document is not a letter in the strict sense of the term it's more in the nature of an invoice of the cargo of stupidity and bad luck which i the writer victor jones of philadelphia have been freighted with by an all-wise providence for its own incomprehensible ends providence held him up for a moment was providence neuter or masculine he risked it and left it neuter and continued when the servant announced luncheon he had covered twenty sheets of paper and had only arrived at the american bar of the savoy he went to luncheon swallowed a whiting and half a cutlet and returned he sat down read what he had written and tore it across that would never do it was like the vast prelude to a begging letter she would never read it through he started again beginning this time in the american bar of the savoy writing very carefully he had reached by tea-time the reading of rochester's death in the paper well satisfied with his progress he took afternoon tea and then sat down comfortably to read what he had written he was aghast with the result the things that had happened to him were believable because they had happened to him but in cold writing they had an air of falsity she would never believe this yarn he tore the sheets across then he burned all he had written in the grate took his seat in the arm-chair and began to think of the devil surely there was something diabolical in the whole of this business and the manner in which everything and every circumstance headed him off from escape after dinner he was sitting down to attempt a litter

forlorn hope, when a sharp voice in the hall made him pause. The door opened, and Venetia Birdbrook entered. She wore a new hat that seemed bigger than the one he had last beheld, and her manner was wild. She shut the door, walked to the table, placed her parasol on it, and began peeling off a glove. "'She's gone,' said Venetia. Jones had risen to his feet. Who's gone? Teresa, gone with Manilov.

He sat down. Then she blazed out. Are you going to do nothing? Are you going to sit there and let us all be disgraced? She's gone. She's going to Paris. It was through her maid, I learned it. She's gone from the hotel by this.

gone with manilov are you deaf or simply stupid you must follow her he rose follow her now follow her and get her back there is just a chance they are going to the bristol the maid told everything i will go with you there is a train at nine o'clock from victoria you have only just time to catch it i have no money said jones feeling in his pockets distractedly only about four pounds i have replied she and our car is at the door are you afraid or is it that you don't mind come on said jones he rushed into the hall seized a hat and overcoat and next minute was buried in a stuffy limousine with venetia's sharp elbow poking him in the side he was furious there are people who seem born for the express purpose of setting other people by the ears venicia was one of them despite vols mullhausen debts and want of balance one might hazard the opinion that it was venicia who had driven the unfortunate rochester to his mad act the prospect of a journey to paris with this woman in pursuit of another man's wife was bad enough but it was not this prospect that made jones furious though assisting no doubt it was venetia herself she raised the devil in him and on the journey to the station though she said not a word she managed to raise his exasperation with the world herself himself and his vile position to the limit just below the last the last was to come at the station they walked through the crowd to the booking office

where Venetia bought the tickets. Reminiscences of being taken on journeys as a small boy by his mother flitted across the mind of Jones and did not improve his temper. He looked at the clock. It wanted twenty minutes of the starting time, and he was in the act of evading a barrow of luggage when Venetia arrived with the tickets. It had come into the mind of Jones that not only was he traveling to Paris with the Honorable Venetia Birdbrook, in pursuit of the wife of another man, but that they were traveling without luggage. If, in Philadelphia, he had dreamt of himself in such a position, he would have been disturbed as to the state of his health and the condition of his liver. Yet now, in reality, the thing did not seem preposterous. He was concerned as to the fact about the want of luggage. "'Look here,' said he. "'What are we to do?

I haven't even a night suit of pajamas. I haven't even a toothbrush. No hotel will take us in. We don't want a hotel, said Venetia. We'll come back straight if we can save Teresa. If not, if she insists in pursuing her mad course, you had better not come back at all. Come on and let us take our places in the train.

They moved away, and she continued. for if she does you will never be able to hold up your head again everyone knows how you have behaved to her oh stop it said he irritably i have enough to think about you ought to only just those three words yet they set him off odd i well what of yourself she told me last night things about you about me what things never mind but i do she stopped and he stopped i mind very much what things did she tell you nothing much only that you worried the life out of her and that though i was bad you were worse venetia sniffed she was just turning to resume her way to the train when she stopped dead like a point her. That's them, she said in a hard, tense whisper. Jones looked.

A veiled lady accompanied by a bearded man with a folded umbrella under his arm, and following a porter laden with wraps and small luggage, were making their way through the crowd towards the train. The veil did not hide her from him. He knew at once, it was she. It was then that Venetia's effect upon him, upon him, acted as the contents of the white paper acts when emptied into the tumbler that holds the blue paper half of the sidelits powder. Venetia saw his face.

Don't make a scene, she cried. That was the stirring of the spoon. He rushed up to the bearded man and caught him by the arm. The bearded one turned sharply and pushed him away. He was a big man he looked a powerful man dressed up as a conquering hero he would have played the part to perfection the sort of man women adore for their power and manliness he had a cigarette between his thick red bearded lips jones wasn't much to look at but he had practiced at odd times at joe hennessey's otherwise known as ike snidebaum of spring garden street philadelphia and he had practiced at odd times at joe hennessey's otherwise known as ike snidebomb of spring garden street philadelphia and he had a the fighting pluck of a badger. He struck out, missed, got a drum sounder in on the left ribs, right under the uplifted umbrella arm and the raised umbrella, and then, Swift as light, got in an uppercut on the whiskers under the left side of the jaw.

The umbrella man sat down, as men sit when chairs are pulled from under them, then, shouting for help—that was the humorous and pitiable part of it—scramming. stumbled onto his feet instantly to be downed again. Then he lay on his back with arms out, pretending to be mortally injured. The whole affair lasted only fifteen seconds. You can fancy the scene. Jones looked round. Venetia and the criminal, having seen the display,

and at the National Sporting Club you often pay five pounds to see worse, were moving away together through the throng. the floored one with arms still out was murmuring brandy brandy into the ear of a kneeling porter and a station policeman was at jones's side jones took him apart a few steps i am the earl of rochester said he in a half-whisper that guy has got what he wanted never mind what he was doing kick the beast awake and ask him if he wants to prosecute the constable came and stood over the head end of the sufferer who was now leaning on one arm do you want to prosecute this gentleman asked the constable nishevo murmured the other no brandy thought so said jones then he walked away towards the entrance with the constable my address is carlton house terrace said he when you get that chap on his pins you can tell him to come there and i'll give him another dose here's a sovereign for you thanks your lordship said the guardian of the peace you landed him fine i will say i didn't see the beginning of the scrap but i saw the knockout you won't have any more bother with him i don't think so said jones

he was elated jubilant a weight seemed lifted from his mind all his evil humor had vanished the feel of those whiskers and the resisting jaw was still with him he had got one good blow in at circumstance and the world he could have sung he was coming out of the station when someone ran up from behind it was venetia venetia delirious and jabbering teresa is in the car oh you have done it now you have done it now what made you do this awful thing are you mad here in the open station before every one you have he heaped this last disgrace on us on me oh shut up said jones he sighted the car ran to it and opened the door a whimper of a whimper of a whimper of a little bit of a whimper of it said jones he sighted the car ran to it and opened the door a whimpering bundle in the corner stretched out hands as if to ward him off oh oh sighed and murmured the bundle jones caught one of the hands leaned in and kissed it then he turned to venicia who had followed him get in he said she got in he got in after her and closed the door venicia put her head out of the window home cried she to the chauffeur joan said nothing till they had cleared the station precincts then he began to talk in the darkness addressing his remarks to both women in a weird sort of monologue all this is nothing said he you must both forget it when you hear what i have to tell you to-morrow you won't bother to remember all this no one that counts saw that there

were all strangers and making for the cars. I gave the officer a sovereign. What I have to say is this. I must have a meeting of the whole family tomorrow, tomorrow morning. Not about this affair, about something else, something entirely to do with me. I have been trying to explain all day, tried to write it out, but couldn't. I have to tell you something that will simply knock you all out of time. Suddenly the sniffing bundle in the corner became articulate. I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to do it. I hate him. Oh, Juju, if you had not treated me so last night, I would never have done it. Never, never, never, never. I know, he replied, but it was not my fault leaving you like that. I had to go. You will

everything to-morrow when you hear all you will very likely never speak to me again though i am innocent enough lord knows then came venetia's voice this is new heaven knows we have had disgrace enough what else is going to fall on us why put it off till to-morrow what new thing have you done before jones could reply the warm-hearted bundle in the corner ceased sniffing and turned on Venetia. No matter what he has done, you are his sister, and you have no right to accuse him. Acuse him, cried the outraged to Venetia. Yes, accuse him. You don't say it, but you feel it.

I believe you'd be glad in some wicked way if he had done anything really terrible. Venetia made a noise like the sound emitted by a choking hen. teresa had put her finger on the spot venicia was not a wicked woman she was something nearly as bad a righteous woman one of the ever judges the finding out of other people's sins gave her pleasure before she could reply articulately jones interposed an idea had suddenly entered his practical mind good heavens said he what has become of your luggage i don't know and i don't care replied the roused one let it go with the rest the car drew up you will stay with us to-night i suppose said venetia coldly i suppose so replied the other jones got out i will call here to-morrow morning at nine o'clock said he i want the whole family present then to the unfortunate wife of the defunct rochester

don't worry about what took place this evening it was all my fault you will think differently about me when you hear all in the morning she sighed and passed up the steps following venicia like a woman in a dream when the door closed on them he took the number of the house then at the street corner he looked at the name of the street it was curzon street then he walked home come what might he had done a good evening's work more than ever did he feel the charm of this woman her loyalty her power of honest love what a woman and what a fate it was at this moment whilst walking home to carlton house terrace that the true character of rochester appeared before him in a new and lurid light up to this rochester had appeared to him mad tricky irresponsible but up to this he had not clearly seen the villainy of rochester the woman showed it rochester had picked up a stranger because of the mutual likeness and sent him home to play his part hoping no doubt to have a ghastly hit at his family what about his wife he had either never thought of her or he had not cared and such a wife that fellow ought to be dug up and cremated said jones to himself as he opened the door with his latch key he ought sure well i hope i'll cremate his reputation to-morrow having smoked a cigar he went upstairs and to bed he had been trying to think of how he would open the business on the morrow of what he would say to start with then he gave up the attempt he had been trying to think of how he would open the business on the morrow of what he would say to start with

then he gave up the attempt determining to leave everything to the inspiration of the moment end of chapter nineteen recording by roger maline chapter twenty of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter twenty the family council he arrived at curzon street at fifteen minutes after nine next morning and was shown up to the drawing-room by the butler here he took his seat and waited the coming of the family amusing himself as best he could by looking round at the furniture and pictures and listening to the sounds of the house and the street outside he heard taxi-horns the faint rumble of wheels voices now he heard some one running up the stairs outside a servant probably for the sound suddenly ceased and was followed by a laugh as though two servants had met on the stairs and were exchanging words one could not imagine any of that terrible family running up the stairs lightly or laughing then after another minute or two the door opened and the duke of melford entered he was in light tweeds with a buff waistcoat he held a morning paper under his arm and was polishing his eyeglasses he nodded at jones morning said his grace waddling to a chair and taking his seat the women will be up in a moment he took his seat and spread open the paper as if to glance at the news

then looking up over his spectacles glad to hear from collins you've got that land back i was in there just after you left and he told me yes said jones i've got it back he had no time to say more as at that moment the door opened and the women appeared led by the dowager countess of rochester venicia shut the door and they took their seats about the room whilst jones who had risen receded himself then with the deep breath of a man preparing for a dive he began i have asked you all to come here this morning i asked you to meet me this morning because i just want to tell you the truth i am an intruder into your family an intruder cried the mother of the defunct arthur what are you saying one moment he went on i want to begin by explaining what i have done for you all and then perhaps you will see that i am an honest man even though i am in a false position in the last few days i have got back one million and eight thousand pounds that is to say the coal mine property and other money as well one million and eight thousand pounds that would have been a dead loss only for me you have acted like a man said the duke of melford go on what do you mean about intrusion let me tell the thing in my own way said jones irritably the late lord rochester got dreadfully involved owing to his own stupidity with a woman i call him the late lord rochester because i have to announce now the fact of his death

the effect of this statement was surprising the four listeners sat like frozen corpses for a moment then they moved casting terrified eyes at one another it was the duke of melford who spoke we will leave your father's name alone said he yes we know he is dead what more have you to say i was not talking of my father said jones beginning to get bought and slightly confused, also angry. He was not my father. If you'll only listen to me without interrupting, I will make things plain. I am talking of myself, or at least the man whom I am representing,

the Earl of Rochester. I say that I am not the Earl of Rochester. He is dead. He turned to Rochester's wife. I hate to have to tell you this, right out, and in such a manner, but it has to be told. I am not your husband. I am an American. My name is Victor Jones, and I come from Philadelphia.

The Dowager Countess of Rochester, who had been leaning forward in her chair, sank back. She had fainted. Whilst Venetia and the Duke of Melford were bringing her to, the wife of Rochester who had been staring at Jones in a terrified man, manner, ran from the room. She ran like a blind person with hands outspread. Joan stood whilst the unfortunate lady was resuscitated. She returned to consciousness, sobbing and flipping her hands, and she was led from the room by Venetia. Beyond the door, Jones heard her voice roused in lamentation.

My boy! My poor boy! Venetia had said nothing. Jones had expected a scene, outcries, questions, but there was something in all this that was quite beyond him. They had asked no questions, seemed to take the whole thing for granted, Venetia especially. The Duke of Milford shut the door. Your mother, I mean, Lady Rochester's heart is not strong,

said he, going to the bell and touching it. I must say, send for the doctor to see her. Jones, more than ever astonished by the coolness of the other, sat down again. "'Look here,' said he. "'I can't make you all out. You've called me no names. You haven't let me fully explain.

The old lady is the only one that seems to have taken the news in. Can't you understand what I have told you?' "'Perfectly,' said the old gentleman. and it's the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard, and the most interesting. I want to have a long talk about it. James, to the servant who had answered the bell, telephone for Dr. Cavendish. Her ladyship has had another attack.

Dr. Cavendish has just been telephoned for, Your Grace, and Dr. Sims. That will do, said his grace. Yes, upon my son. soul, it's quite extraordinary. He took a cigar case from his pocket, proffered a cigar, which Jones took, and then lit one himself. "'Look here,' said Jones, suddenly alarmed by a new idea. "'You aren't guying me, are you? You haven't taken it into your heads that I've gone doddy, mad?'

"'Mad!' cried the old gentleman with a start. "'Never! Such an idea never entered my mind!' why why should it only you take this thing so quietly quietly well what would you have my dear fellow what is the good of shouting ever not a bit it's bad form i take everything as it comes well then listen whilst i tell you how all this happened i came over here some time ago to rope in a contract with the british government over some steel fixtures i was partner with a man named aaron stringer well i failed on the contract and found myself broke with less than ten pounds in my pocket i was sitting in the savoy lounge when in came a man whom I knew at once by sight, but I couldn't place his name on him. We had drinks together in the American bar, then we went upstairs to the lounge. He would not tell me who he was.

Look in the looking-glass behind you, said he, and you will see who I am. I looked, and I saw him. I was his twin image. I must tell you first that I had been having some champagne-cocked, and a whiskey and soda. I'm not used to drink. We had a jamboree together and dinner at some place, and then he sent me home as himself. I was blind. When I woke up next morning, I said nothing but lay low, thinking it was all a joke. I ought to have spoken at once, but didn't. One makes mistakes in life. We all do that, said the other. Yes,

go on and later that day i opened a newspaper and saw my name and that i had committed suicide it was rochester of course that had committed suicide did it on the underground then i was in a nice fix there i was in rochester's clothes with not a penny in my pockets couldn't go to the hotel couldn't go anywhere so i determined to be rochester for a while at least. I found his affairs in an awful muddle. You know that business about the coal mine. Well, I've managed to write his affairs. I wasn't thinking of any profit to myself over the business. I just did it because it was the right thing to do.

Now, I want to be perfectly plain with you. I might have carried on this game always, and lived in Rochester's shoes only for two things. one is his wife the other is a feeling that has been coming on me that if i carried on any longer i might go doddy times i've had attacks of a feeling that i did not know who i was it's leading this double life you know now i want to get right back and be myself and cut clear of all this you can't think what it has been carrying on this double life hearing the servants calling me your lord ship i couldn't have imagined it would have acted on the brain so i've been simply crazy to hear someone calling me by my right name well that's the end of the matter i want to settle up and get back to the states the door opened and a servant appeared dr sims has arrived your grace the duke of melford rose from his chair one moment said said he to jones he left the room closing the door jones tipped the ash of his cigar into a jardinier nearby he was astonished and a bit disturbed by the cool manner in which his wonderful confession had been received

can it be there laying low and sending for the police thought he he was debating this question when the door opened and the duke walked in followed by a bald elderly pleasant-looking man. After this latter came a cadaverous gentleman, wearing glasses. The bald man was Dr. Sims, the cadaverous, Dr. Cavendish. Sims nodded at Jones as though he knew him. I have asked these gentlemen as friends of the family to step in and talk about this matter before seeing Lady Rochester, said the Duke. She has been taken to her room and is not yet prepared for visitors. I shall be delighted to help in any way, said Sims. My services, professional or private, are always at your disposal, your grace. He sat down and turned to Jones. Now, tell us all about it, said he. Cavendish took another chair, and the Duke remained standing. Jones felt irritated,

felt somewhat as a maestro would feel who having finished that musical obstacle race the grand polonaise finds himself requested to play it again i've told the whole thing once said he i can't go over it again the duke knows suddenly cavendish spoke i understand from what his grace said on the stairs that there is some trouble about identity some trouble said jones i reckon you're right in calling it some trouble you are mr jones i think said sims victor jones was the name i was christened by answered jones quite so american american now mr jones as a matter of formality may i ask you where you live in america philadelphia and in philadelphia what might be your address number one thousand one hundred and one walnut street replied jones cavernish averted his head for a moment and the duke shifted his position on the hearthrook leaving his elbow on the mantel and caressing for a moment his chin sims alone remained unmoved just so said sims have you any family nope i beg your pardon no i thought you said nope my mistake not a bit i did say nope it's short for no short for no i see just so cavendish interposed with an air of interest how would you spell that word asked he jones resented cavendish somehow

i don't know said he this isn't a spelling bee n o p e i suspect you gentlemen have undertaken to question me on behalf of the family as to my identity i think we had better stick to that point just so said sims precisely excuse me said the duke of melford i think if mr uh jones wishes to prove his identity as mr jones he will admit that his actions will help now lord rochester was a very shall we say fastidious person quiet in his actions oh was he said jones that's news quiet that is to say in his movements let it stand at that now my friend collins said to me something about the eating of a document jones bristled collins had no right to tell you that said he i told him that privately when did he tell you that when i called just after his interview with you he did not say it in any way he did not say it in any way offensively in fact he seemed to admire you for your energy and so forth did you in fact eat a document asked sims with an air of bland interest i did and saved a very nasty situation and a million of money what was the document asked cavendish a bill of exchange now may i ask you why you did that queried Cymes.

No, you mayn't, replied Jones. It's a private affair affecting the honor of another person. Quite so, said Sims, but just one more question. Did you hear a voice telling you to, um, eat this paper? Yes. What sort of voice was it? It was a sort of voice that belongs to common sense. ha laughed cavendish good very good but there is just something i want to ask how was it mr uh jones that you turned into your present form exchanged your position as it were with the earl of rochester

oh lord said jones then to the duke of melford tell them well said the duke mr jones was sitting in the lounge of an hotel when a gentleman entered whom he knew but could not recognize couldn't place his name cut in jones precisely the gentleman said turn around and look in the mirror you've left the drinks out said jones true mr jones and the gentleman had partaken of certain drinks what were the drinks put in sims champagne cocktails whisky and soda then a bottle of bolinger after said jones mr jones looked into the mirror continued the duke and saw that he was the other gentleman that is to say lord rochester no the twin image put in jones the twin image well after that more liquor was consumed the chap doped me with drink and sent me home as himself cut in jones and i woke up in a strange bed with a guy pulling up the window-blinds a guy put in cavendish a chap church is his name i thought i was being bamboozled so i determined to play the part of lord rochester you know the rest turning to the duke of melford well said cavendish i don't think we need ask any more questions of mr jones we are convinced i believe that mr jones and-uh the earl of rochester are different

quite so said sims we are sure of his bona fides and of course it is for the family to decide how to meet this extraordinary situation i am sure they will sympathize with mr jones and make no trouble it is quite evident he had no wrong intent now you're talking said jones quite so one more question does it seem to you i have not been talking at all up to this jones laughed it seems to me you have uttered one word or two ask a bee in a bottle has it been buzzing the cadaverous cavendish who from his outward appearance presented no signs of a sense of humor exploded at this hill it, but Sims remained unmoved. "'Quite so,' said he. "'Well, that's all the remains to be said. But now, as a professional man, has not all this tried you a good deal, Mr. Jones?

I should think it was enough to try any man's health.' "'Oh, my health is all right,' said Jones. "'I can eat and all that, but times i felt as if i wasn't one person or the other that's one of my main reasons for quitting leaving aside other things you see i had to carry on up to a certain point and if you'll excuse me blowing my own horn i think i've not done bad i could have put my claws on all that money if i hadn't been a straight man there's a lot of things i could have done appears to me well now that everything is settled i think that ought to be taken into consideration i don't ask much just a commission on the money solved decidedly said sims in my opinion you are quite right but as a professional man my concern just a moment ago was about your health oh the voyage back to the states will put that right quite so but you will excuse my professional instinct and i am giving you my services for nothing if you will let me i notice signs of nerve exhaustion let's look at your tongue jones put out his tongue

not bad said sims now just cross your legs jones crossed his legs right over left and sims standing before him gave him him a little sharp tap just under the right kneecap. The leg flew out. Jones laughed. Exaggerate Patella reflex, said Sims. Nerve fag, nothing more. A pill or two is all you want. You don't notice any difficulty in speech? Not much, said Jones, laughing. Say, Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. peter piper piped a pick began jones then he laughed you can't say it said sims cocking a wise eyebrow you bet i can said the patient peter piper puck to pick nerve exhaustion said sims say doc cut in jones beginning to feel slight alarm what are you getting at you're beginning to make me feel frightened there's not anything really wrong with me is there nothing but what can be righted by care replied sims

let me try mr jones with a lingual test said cavendish say she stood at the door of the fish sauce shop in the strand welcoming him in she stood at the door of the fish-sha shop in the strand welcoming him in said jones hum hum said cavendish that's crazy said jones nobody could say that. Oh, I'm all right. I reckon a little liver pill will fix me up. The two doctors withdrew to a window and said a few words together. Then they both nodded to the Duke of Melford. Well, said the Duke, that's settled, and now, Mr. Jones, I hope you will stay here for luncheon. Jones had had enough of that house. Thanks, said he, but I think I'll begin to be getting back. I want to walk. You'll find me at Carlton House Terrace where we can finish up this business. It's a weight off my mind now everything is over. Hoof! I can tell you, I'm hungry

for the States. He rose and took his hat which he had placed on the floor, nodded to the Duke of Melford, and turned to the door. Sims was standing in front of the door. Excuse me, said Sims. But I would not advise you to go out in your condition. Much better stay here till your nerves have recovered. Jones stared at him. My nerves are all right, said he. Don't, my dear fellow, said Cavendish.

Jones turned and looked at him, then turned again to the door. Sims was barring the way still. Don't talk nonsense. said jones think i was a baby i tell you i'm all right what on earth do you mean upon my soul you're like a lot of children he tried to pass sims you must not leave this room yet said sims pray quiet yourself you mean to say you'll stop me yes then in a flash he knew these men had not been sent for to attend the dowager countess of rochester they were alienists and they considered him to be rochester rochester gone mad right from the first start of his confession he had been taken for a madman that was why venicia had said nothing that was why the old lady had fainted that was why his wife at least rochester's wife had run from the room like a blind woman

He stood appalled for a moment before this self-evident fact. Then he spoke, Open that door. Get away from that door. Sit down and quiet yourself, said Sims, staring him full in the eye. You will not leave this house. It was Sims who sat down, flung away by Jones. Then Cavendish pinioned him from behind.

The Duke of Melford. shouted directions sims scrambled to his feet and jones having one free of cavendish the rough and tumble began they fought all over the drawing-room upsetting jardiniers little tables costly china jones's foot went into a china cabinet carrying destruction amongst a concert party of little dresden figures sims as portly behind bumped against a pedestal bearing a portrait bustle of the 19th Countess of Rochester, upsetting pedestal and smashing bust, and the Duke of Melford, fine old sportsman that he was, assisting in the business with the activity of a boy of 18, received a kick in the shin that recalled Eaton across a long vista of years. Then at last they had him down on a sofa, his hands tied behind his back, with the Duke's bandana handkerchief.

jones had uttered no cry the others no sound but the bumping and banging and smashing had been heard all over the house a tap came to the door and a voice the duke rushed to the door and opened it nothing said he nothing wrong off with you he shut the door and turned to the couch jones caught a glimpse of himself in a big mirror happily unsmashed, caught a glimpse of himself all tumbled and tousled with Sims beside him and Cavendish standing by, refixing his glasses. He recognized a terrible fact, though he had smashed hundreds of pounds worth of property, though he had fought these men like a mad bull, now that the fight was over, they showed not the least sign of resentment. Sims was patting his shoulder. He had become possessed of the mournful privilege of the insane, to fight without raising ire in one's antagonists, to smash with impunity, to murder without being brought to justice. Also, he recognized that

he had been a fool. He had acted like a madman, that is to say, like a man furious with anger. Anger and madness have awful similarities. He moved slightly away from some. He moved slightly away from Sims. "'I reckon I've been a fool,' said he. "'Three to one is not fair play. "'Come, let my hands free. I won't fight any more.' "'Certainly,' said Sims. "'But let me point out that we were not fighting you in the least, only preventing you from taking a course detrimental to your help.'

"'Cavendish, will you kindly untie that absurd handkerchief?' cavendish obeyed and jones his hands freed rubbed his wrists what are you going to do now asked he nothing said sims you are perfectly free but we don't want you to go out until your health is perfectly restored i know you will say that you feel all right no matter take a physician's advice and just remain here quiet for a little while shall we go to the library where you can amuse yourself with a newspaper or a book whilst i make up a little prescription for you look here said jones let's talk quietly for a moment you think i'm mad not in the least said sims you are only suffering from a nerve upset well if i'm not mad you have no right to keep me here this was cunning but unfortunately cunning like anger is an attribute of madness as well as of sanity now said simms with an air of great frankness do you think that it is for our pleasure that we ask you to stay here for a while we are not keeping you just asking you to stay we will go down to the library and i will just have a prescription made up then when you have considered matters a bit you can use your own discretion about going jones recognized at once that there was no use in trying to fight this man with any other weapon than subtlety he was fairly trapped

his tale was such that no man would believe it and persisting in that tale he would be held as a lunatic on top of the tail was rochester's bad reputation for sanity they called him mad rochester then as he rose up and followed to the library a last inspiration seized him he stopped at the drawing-room door look here said he one moment i can prove what i say you send out a man to philadelphia and make enquiries fetch some of the people over that knew me you'll find i'm myself and that i've told you no lie we will do anything you like said sims but first let us go down to the library they went it was a large pleasant room lined with books sims sat down at the writing-table whilst the others took chairs he wrote a prescription and the duke ringing the bell ordered a servant to take the prescription to the chemists then during the twenty minutes before the servant returned they talked jones giving again his address that fantastic address which was yet real and the names and descriptions of people he knew and who would know him you see gentlemen said he it's just this i have only one crave in life just now to be myself again not exactly that but to be recognized as myself you can't imagine what that feeling is you needn't tell me i know exactly what you think you think i'm rochester gone crazy i know the yarn i've slung you sounds crazy but it's the truth

the fact is i felt at times that if i didn't get someone to recognize me as myself i'd go crazy just one person to believe in me that's all i want and then i'd feel free of this curse at Rochester. Put yourself in my place. Imagine that you have lost touch with everything you ever were, that you were playing another man's part, and that everyone in the world kept on insisting you were the other guy. Think of that for a position. Why, gentlemen, you might open that door wide.

I wouldn't want to go out, not till I had convinced one of you at all events that my story was true. I wouldn't want to go back to the States, not till I had convinced you that I am who I am. It seems foolish, but it's a bedrock fact. I have to make good on this position, convince someone who knows the facts,

and so get myself back. It wouldn't be any use my going to Philadelphia. I'd say to people I know there, I'm Jones. They'd say, course you are and believe me but then do you see they wouldn't know of this adventure and their belief in me wouldn't be a bit of good of course i know i'm jones all the same i've been playing the part of rochester so hard that times i've almost believed i'm him times i've lost myself and i have a feeling at the back of my mind that if i don't get someone to believe me to be who i am I may go doughty in earnest. It's a feeling without reason, I know.

It's more like having a grit in the eye than anything else. I want to get rid of that grit, and I can't take it out myself. Someone else must do it. One person would be enough. Just one person to believe in what I say, and I would be myself again. That's why I want you to send to Philadelphia. the mind is a curious thing gentlemen the freedom of the body is nothing if the mind is not free and my mind can never be free till another person who knows my whole story believes in what i say i could not have imagined any one being trapped like this i've heard of an actor guy once playing a part so often he went loony and fancied himself the character

i'm not like that i'm as sane as you it's just this uneasy uncomfortable feeling this want to get absolutely clean out of this business that's the trouble never mind said sims cheerfully we will get you out only you must not worry yourself i admit that your story is strange but we will send to philadelphia and make all inquiries come in the servant had knocked at the door he entered with the medicine sims sent him for a wine-glass and when it arrived he poured out a dose now take a dose of your medicine like a man said the kindly physician jocularly and another in four hours time it will remake your nerves jones tossed the stuff out impatiently say said he there's another point i've forgot you might go to the savoy and get the clerk there he'd recognize me the bartender in the american bar he'd maybe be able to recognize me too he saw us together i say i feel a bit drowsy you haven't doped me have you sims and cavendish leaving the house together five minutes later had a moment's moment's conversation on the steps. What do you think of him? said Sims.

Bad, said Cavendish. He reasons on his own case. That's always bad. And did you notice how cleverly he worked that in about wanting someone to believe in him? They walked down the street together. That smash has been coming for a long time, said Sims. It's an air. It's a good thing it has come. He was getting to be a byword. I wonder what it is that introduces the humorous element into insanity. That address, for instance, 1,191 Walnut Street, could never have strayed into a sane person's head.

Nor a luncheon on bills of exchange, said Cavendish. Well, he will be all right at Hoover's. what was the dose you gave him heroin mostly replied the other well so long end of chapter twenty recording by roger maline chapter twenty one of the man who lost himself this libervok's recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself chapter twenty one of the man who lost himself by h devere stackpool chapter twenty one hoover's jones after the magic draught administered by sims entered into a blissful condition of twilight sleep half sleep half drowsiness absolute indifference he walked with assistance to the hall door and entered a motor-car it did not matter to him what he entered or where he went he did not want to be disturbed he roused himself during a long journey to take a drink of something held to his lips by some one and sank back tucking sleep around him like a warm blanket in all his life he had never had such a gorgeous sleep as that his weary and harassed brain revelled in moments of semi-consciousness and then sank back into the last abysms of oblivion

he awoke a new man physically and mentally and with an absolutely clear memory and understanding he awoke in a bedroom a cheerful bedroom lit by the morning sun a bedroom with an open window through which came the songs of birds and the whisper of foliage a young man dressed in a black morning coat was seated in an arm-chair by the window reading a book he looked like a superior sort of servant jones looked at this young man who had not yet noticed the awakening of the sleeper and jones as he looked at him put facts together sims cavendish the fact that he had been doped the place where he was and the young man he had been taken here in that conveyance whatever it was they had thought him mad they had carted him off to a madhouse this was-this was a madhouse this was a man madhouse. That guy in the chair was an attendant. He recognized these probabilities very clearly, but he felt no anger and little surprise. His mind, absolutely set up and almost renewed by profound slumber, saw everything clearly and in a true light. It was quite logical that, believing him mad, they had put him in a madhouse, and he had no fear at all of the result simply because he knew

that he was sane. The situation was amusing. It was also one to get free from. But there was plenty of time, and there was no room for making mistakes. Curiously enough now, the passionate or almost passionate desire to recover his own personality had vanished, or at least was no longer active in his mind. His brain, renewed by that tremendous sleep, was no longer tainted by that vague dread, no longer troubled by that curious craving to have others believe in his story, and to have others recognize him as Jones. No, it did not matter to him just now whether he recovered his personality in the eyes of others. What did matter to him was the recovery of his bodily freedom. Meanwhile, caution. Like Bray Rabbit, he determined to lie low.

"'Say,' said Jones, "'the young man by the window started slightly, "'rose and came to the bedside. "'What a clock?' said the patient. "'It has just gone half past eight, sir,' replied the other. "'I hope you have slept well.' Jones noticed that this person did not, my lord him. "'Not a wink,' said he.

"'Tost and tumbled all night. oh say what do you think the young man looked puzzled and would you like anything now sir yes my pants i want to get up certainly sir your bath is quite ready replied the other he went to the fireplace and touched an electric button then he bustled about the room getting jones's garments together the bedroom had two doors one leave leading to a sitting-room, one to a bathroom. In a minute, the bathroom door opened, and a voice queried, "'Hot or cold!' "'Hot!' said Jones. "'Hot!' said the attendant.

"'Hot!' said the unseen person in the bathroom, as if registering the order in his mind. Then came the fizzling of water, and in a couple of minutes the voice, "'Gentleman's bath ready!' Jones bathed, and though the door of the bathroom had been shut upon him, and there was no person present, he felt all the time that someone was watching him. When he was fully dressed, the attendant opened the other door and ushered him into the sitting-room, where breakfast was laid on a small table by the window. He had the choice between eggs and bacon and sausages. He chose the former, and whilst waiting, attracted by the pleasant summary sound of crooket.

balls knocking together, he looked out of the window. Two gentlemen in white flannels were playing croquet. Stout, elderly gentlemen, they were. And on a garden seat, a young man in flannel trousers and a gray tweed coat was seated watching the game and smoking cigarettes. He guessed these people to be fellow prisoners. They looked happy enough, and having noticed this fact, he sat down to breakfast. He noted that the knife accompanying his fork was blunt and of very poor quality,

of the sort warranted not to cut throats. But he did not heed much. He had other things to think of. The men in flannels had given him a shock. Instinctively he knew them to be inmates. He had never considered the question of lunatics and lunatic asylums before. Vague recollections of edictions of edicts. edgar allan poe and the works of charles reed had surrounded the term lunatic asylum with an atmosphere of feather beds and brutality the word lunatic conjured up in his mind the idea of a man obviously insane

the fact that this place was a house quite ordinary and pleasant in appearance and these sane-looking gentlemen lunatics gave him a grue the fact that an apparently sane individual can be held as a prisoner, was beginning to steal upon him, that a man might be able to play croquet and laugh and talk and take an intelligent interest in life, and yet, just because of some illusion, be held as a prisoner. He did not fully realize this yet, but it was dawning upon him. But he did fully realize that he had lost his liberty. Before he had finished his eggs and bacon, this recognition became acute. the fear of losing his own personality had vanished utterly all that haunting dread was gone if he could escape now so he told himself he would go right back to the states he had eight thousand pounds in the national provincial bank no one knew that it was there he could seize it with a clear conscience and take it to philadelphia

the shadow of rochester oh that was a thing gone forever dissipated by this actual fact of lost liberty so he told himself a servant brought up the times and he opened it and lit a cigarette then as he looked casually over the news and the doings of the day an extraordinary feeling came upon him all this printed matter was relative to the doings and ideas of free men men who could walk down the street if the fancy pleased them it was like looking at the world through bars he got up and paced the floor the breakfast things had been removed and the attendant had left the room and was in the bedroom adjoining jones walked softly to the door through which the servant had carried away the things and opened it gently and without noise a corridor lay outside and he was just entering it when a voice from behind made him turn do you require anything sir it was the attendant nothing said jones i was just looking to see where this place led to he came back into the room he knew now that every moment of his was watched and he accepted the fact without comment he sat down and took up the times whilst the attendant went back to the bedroom he had said to himself on awaking that a sane man held as insane, could always win free just by his sanity. He was taking up the line of reasoning now and casting about him for a method. He was not long in finding one. The brilliancy of the

idea that it all at once struck him made him cast the paper from his knees to the floor. Then, having smoked a cigarette and consolidated his plan, he called the attendant. I want to see the gentleman who runs this place. Dr. Hoover, sir? Yes. Certainly, sir. I will ring and have him sent for. He rang the bell, a servant answered, and went off with a message.

Jones took up the paper again and resumed his cigarette. Five minutes passed, and then the door opened, and a gentleman entered. A pleasant-faced, clean-shaded. man of fifty, dressed in blue serge and with a rose in his buttonhole. Such was Dr. Hoover. But the eye of the man held him apart from others, a blue-gray eye, keen, sharp, hard, for all the smile upon the pleasant face. Jones rose up. Dr. Hoover, I think, said he. Good morning, said the other in a hearty voice.

fine day isn't it well how are we this morning oh i'm all right said jones i want to have a little talk with you he went to the bedroom door which was slightly ajar and closed it for your sake said jones it's just as well we have no one listening the attendant is in there you are sure he cannot hear what we say even with the door shut quite said hoover with a benign smile he was used to things like this profoundly confidential communications concerning claims to crowns and principalities or grumbles about food he did not expect what followed i am not going to grumble at your having me here said jones it's my fault for playing practical jokes i didn't think they'd go to the length of doping me and locking me and locking me locking me up under the name I gave them. And what name was that? asked Hoover kindly. Jones. Oh, and now tell me, if you are not Mr. Jones, who are you?

Who am I? Well, I can excuse the question. I'm the Earl of Rochester. This was a nasty one for Hoover, but that gentleman's face showed nothing. indeed said he then why did you call yourself jones for a joke i slung them a yarn and they took it in then they gave me a draught to compose my nerves they thought really that i was doddy and i drank it you must have seen the condition i was in when i got here hum hum said hoover he was used to the extremely cunning ways of gentlemen off their balance and he had a profound belief in sims and cavendish whose names endorsed the certificate of lunacy he had received with the newcomer he was also a man just as cunning as jones well he said with an air of absolute frankness this takes me by surprise a practical joke but why did you play such a practical joke

i know said jones it was stupid just a piece of tomfoolery but you see how i am landed dr hoover ignored this evasion whilst denoting it then he began to ask all sorts of little questions seemingly irrelevant enough did jones think that he was morally justified in carrying out such a practical joke why did he not say at once it was a practical joke after the affair had reached a certain point was his memory as good as of old was he sure in his own mind that he was the earl of rochester was he sure that as the earl of rochester was he sure that as the earl of rochester he could hold that title against a claim that he was not the earl give details and so forth now suppose said dr hoover i were to contest the title with you and say you are mr jones and i am the earl of rochester how would you establish your claim i am simply asking to find out whether what you consider to be a practical joke was in fact a slight lapse of memory on your part a slight lapse of memory on your part a slight lapse of memory on your part a slight lapse of a slight lapse of memory on your part a slight mind disturbance, such as is easily caused by fatigue or even work, and which often leaves effects lasting some weeks or months. Now, I must point out to you that, as practical joke or not, you came here calling yourself Mr. Jones, I would be justified in asking you

for proof that you are not Mr. Jones. See my point? Quite. Well, then, prove your case. said the physician, jovially. How can I? Well, if you are the Earl of Rochester, let me test your memory. Who is your banker? Coutes. Hoover did not know who the Earl of Rochester's banker might be,

but the promptness of the reply satisfied him of its truth. The promptness was also an index of sanity. He passed at a venture to a subject on which he was acquainted, and how many brothers and sisters have you that was fatal jones's eyes fell under the pressure of hoover's there is no use in going on with these absurd questions said he a thing everyone knows but i just want to prove to you said hoover gently that your mind which in a week from now will have quite recovered is still a little bit shaky now how long is it since you succeeded to the title it's just a test memory question jones did not know he saw that he was lost he had also gained an appreciation of hoover beside the fat sims and the cadaverous cavendish hoover seemed a man of keen common sense jones recognized that the new position into which he had strayed was a blind alley if he were detained until his memory could answer questions of which his mind knew nothing he would be detained forever he came to the grand determination to try back

look here said he let's be straight with one another i can't answer your questions now if you are a man of sense as i take you to be and not a man like those others who think every one but themselves is mad you you will recognize why i can't answer your questions i'm not rochester i thought i'd get out of here by pretending that i'd played a practical joke on those guys it was a false move i acknowledge it but when i fixed on the idea i didn't know the man i had to deal with if you will listen to my story i will tell you in a few words how all this business came about go on said hoover jones told and hoover listened and when the tale was over at the end of a quarter of an hour or so jones scarcely believed it himself it sounded crazy much more crazy than when he had told it to the duke of melford and the reason of this difference was hoover there was something in hoover's eye something in his make-up in personality something in his make-up in personality something something in his make-up in personality something something something veiled and critical that destroyed confidence i have asked them to make inquiries finished jones if they will only do that everything will be cleared up and you may rest content we will said hoover now for another thing said jones till i leave this place which will be soon i hope may i ask you to tell that confounded attendant not to be always watching me i don't know whether you think me mad or sane think me mad if you like but take it from me i'm not going to do anything foolish but if anything would drive me crazy it would be feeling that i am always watched like a child

hoover paused a moment he had a large experience of mental cases then he said you will be perfectly free here you can come downstairs and do as you like we have some very nice men staying here and you are free to amuse yourself i'll just ask you this not to go outside the grounds till your health is perfectly established this is not a prison it's a sanatorium Colonel Hawker is here for Gout and Major Barstow for Neuritus. Got it in India. You will like them. There are several others who make up my household. You can come on down with me now. Are you a billiard player? Yes, I can play. But see here. Before we go down, where is this place? I don't even know what part of the country it's in. sandbourne on sea replied hoover leading the way from the room now in london on the night before something had happened

dr sims at a dinner-party given by dr tuk of bethlem hospital had relative to the imagination of lunatics given an instance only to-day said sims i had a case in point a man gave me as his supposed address one thousand one hundred and ninety one walnut street philadelphia but there is a walnut street philadelphia said took and it's ten miles long and the numbers run up well towards that half an hour later sims got into his carriage savoy hotel strand said he to the coachman end of chapter twenty one recording by roger maline chapter twenty two of the man who lost himself this livervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h devere stackpool chapter twenty two of the man who lost himself by h devere stackpool chapter twenty twenty two an interlude sims in his electric browham passed through the gaslit streets in the direction of the strand glancing at the night pageant of london but seeing nothing i love to linger over sims but what pages of description could adequately describe him buxom sedate plump and soothing with the appearance of having been born and bred in a frock-coat above all things discreet discreet and soothing with the appearance of having been born and bred in a frock-coat above all things discreet You can fancy him stepping out of his browham, passing into the hall of the hotel, and presenting his card to the clerk with the request for an interview with the manager.

The manager being away, his deputy supplied his place. Yes, an American gentleman of the name of Jones had stayed in the hotel, and on the night of the 1st of June had met with an accident on the underground railway. The police had taken charge of the business. what address had he given when booking his room an address in philadelphia walnut street philadelphia thanks said sims i came to inquire because a patient of mine fancied seeing the report that it might be a relative she must have been mistaken for her relative resides in the city of new york thank you quite so good evening in the hall sims hesitated for a moment then he asked a page boy for the american bar found it and ordered a glass of soda water there were only one or two men in the bar and as sims paid for his drink he had a word with the bartender did he remember some days ago seeing two gentlemen in the bar who were very much alike the bartender did and as an indication how in the bar-ixte the bartender did and as an indication how in the bar he remember some days ago seeing two gentlemen in the bar who were very much alike

the bartender did and as an indication how in huge hotels dramatic happenings may pass unknown to the staff not immediately concerned he had never connected jones with the american gentleman of whose unhappy demise he had read in the papers he was quite free in his talk the likeness had struck him forcibly never seen two gentlemen so like one another dressed differently but still like his assistant had seen them too quite so said sims they are friends of mine and i hope to see them again here this evening perhaps they are waiting in the lounge he finished his soda water and walked off he sought the telephone office and rang up curzon street the duke of melford had dined at home but had gone out he was at the buff's club in piccadilly sims drove to the club the duke was in the library his grace had literary leanings his history of the siege of bundle kund of which seven hundred copies of the first edition remained unsold had not deterred him from attempting the siege of jitjupor he wrote a good deal in the library of the club and to-night he was in the act of taking down some notes on the character of fuz a l'li the leader of the besiegers when sims was announced the library was deserted by all save the historian and getting together into a cosy corner the two men talked your grace said sims we have made a mistake your nephew is dead and that man we have placed with dr hoover is what he announced himself to be

what what what cried the duke there can be no doubt at all said sims i have made inquiries he gave details the duke listened his narrow brain incensed at this monstrous statement that had suddenly risen up to confront it i don't believe a word of it said he when the recital was over and what's more i won't believe it do you mean to tell me i don't know my own nephew it's not a question of that said sims it's just a question of the facts of the case there is no doubt at all that a man exactly like the late your nephew in fact stayed at this hotel that he there met the-your nephew there is no doubt that this man gave the address to the hotel people he gave to us and there is no doubt in my mind that he could make out a very good case if he were free that there would be a very great scandal a world scandal even if he were not to prove his case the character of your nephew would be held up for inspection then again he would have very powerful backers now you told me of this man mulhousen how would that property stand were this man to prove his claim and prove that lord rochester was dead when the transfer of the property was made to him i am not thinking of my reputation finished the ingenious sims but of your interests and i tell you quite plainly your grace that were this man to escape we would all be in a very unpleasant predicament

well he won't escape said the duke i'll see to that quite so but there is another matter the commissioners in lunacy well what about them it is the habit of the commissioners to visit every establishment registered under the act and unfortunately they are men i mean of course that fortunately they are men of the most absolute probity but given to overriding sometimes the considered opinion of those in close touch with the cases they are brought in contact with they would undoubtedly make strict inquiries into the truth of the story that lord rochester has just put up and the result i can quite see it would drift us into one of those exposés those painful and interminable lawsuits destructive alike to property to dignity and that ease of mind inseparable from health and the enjoyment of those positions to which my labors and your grace's lineage entitle us damn the commissioners suddenly broke out as grace do you mean to say they would doubt my word unfortunately it is not a question of that said sims it is a question of what they call the liberty of the subject damn the liberty of the subject liberty of the subject when a man's mad what right has he to liberty liberty to cut people's throats maybe look at that fool arthur liberty look at the use he made of his liberty when he had it look what he did to langwathby sent a telegram leading him to believe that his wife had broken out again you know how she drinks and had been jailed in carlyle

and the thing was so artfully constructed it said almost nothing you couldn't touch him on it simply said go at once to police court carlyle see the art of it never mentioned the woman's name there was no libel langwathby to prosecute would have to explain all about his wife he went what happened you know his temper he went to longwathby castle before going to the police court and the first person he saw was his wife before all the servants before all the servants mind you he said to her so they have let you out of prison and now you'd better get out of my house you know her temper before all the servants before all the servants mind you she accused him of that disgraceful affair in pont street when he was turned out on his pajamas and they half ripped off him by lord tango's brother tango never knew anything of it never would but he knows now for lucy jerningham was at langwathby when the scene occurred and she's told him the result is poor langwathby will find himself in the d c liberty what right has a man like that to talk of liberty quite so said sims utterly despairing of pressing home the truth of the horrible situation upon this brain and blinkers quite so but facts are facts and the fact remains that this man i mean a lord rochester possesses on your own showing great craft and subtlety and he will use that with the commissioners in lunacy when they call when do they call ah that's just it they visit asylums and registered houses at their own will and the element of surprise is one of their methods

They may arrive at Hoover's any time. I say literally, any time. Sometimes they arrive at a house in the middle of the night. They may leave an asylum unvisited for a month and then come twice in one week, and they hold everyone concerned literally in the hollows of their hands. If denied admittance, they would not hesitate to break the doors down. Their power is absolute.

but good god sir cried the duke what you tell me is monstrous it's un-english break into a man's house spy upon him in the middle of the night why such powers vested in a body of men make for terrorization this must be seen to i will speak about it in the house quite so but meanwhile there is the danger and it must be faced i'll take him away from hoover's ah said simms i'll put him somewhere where these fellows won't be able to interfere how about my place at sky ball sims shook his head he is under a certificate said he the commissioners call at hovers inspect the books find that lord rochester has been there find him gone find you have taken him away they will simply call upon you to produce him how about my yacht asked the other a long sea voyage for his health ah said sims that's better but voyage has come to an end how about my villa at naples properly looked after there he will be safe enough of course said sims that will mean he will always have to be there always of course always do you think now i have got him in safety i will let him out sims sighed the business was drifting into very dangerous waters he knew for a matter of fact and also by intuition that jones was jones and that rochester was dead and his unfortunate position was like this one if jones escaped from hoover's unsoothed and furious he might find his way to the american consul or horror to some newspaper office

then the band would begin to play two if jones were transferred on board the duke's yacht and sequestrated the matter at the matter once became criminal and the prospect of long years of mental distress and dread lest the agile jones should break free stood before him like a nightmare three it was impossible to make the duke believe that jones was jones and that rochester was dead the only thing to be done was to release jones soothe him bribe him and implore of him to get back to america as quick as possible this being clear before the mind of sims he at once proceeded to act it is not so much the question of your letting him out he said as of his escaping and now i must say this my professional reputation is at stake and i must ask you to come with me to curzon street and put the whole matter before the family i wish to have a full consultation the duke demurred for a moment then he agreed and the two men left the club at curzon street they found the dowager countess and venicia birdbrook about to retire for the night teresa countess of rochester had already retired and though invited to the conference refused to leave her room then in the drawing-room with closed doors sims relying on the intelligence of the women as a support, began, for the second time, his tale.

He convinced the women, and by one o'clock in the morning, still standing by his guns after the fashion of the defenders of Bundle-Kund, the Duke had to confess that he had no more ammunition, surrendered, in fact. But what is to be done? asked the distracted mother of the defunct. What will this terrible man do if we release him? "'Do!' shouted the Duke. "'Do!' "'Why, the imposter may well ask

"'what will we do to him.' "'We can do nothing,' said Venetia. "'How can we? "'How can we expose all this before the servants, "'and the public?' "'It is all entirely Teresa's fault. "'If she had treated Arthur properly, "'none of this would ever have happened.'

"'She laughed and made him. light of his wickedness. She... Quite so, said Sims. But, my dear lady, what we must have to think of now is the man, Jones. We must remember that whilst being an extremely astute person, inasmuch as he recovered for you that large property from the man Mulhousen, he seems honest. Indeed, yes, it is quite evident that he is honest.

I would suggest his release tomorrow and the tendering to him of an adequate sum, say one thousand pounds, on the condition that he retires to the states. Then, later, we can think of some means to account for the demise of the late Earl of Rochester, or simply leave it that he has disappeared. The rest of this weird conclave remains unreported. sims however carrying his point and departing next day after having seen his patience for sanborn on sea where he arrived late in the afternoon when the hired fly that carried him from sanborn station arrived at the hoover establishment it found the gate wide open and at the gate one of the attendants standing in an expectant attitude glancing up and down the road as though he were looking for something or waiting for somebody this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter twenty three smithers

hoover leading the way downstairs showed jones the billiard room on the first floor the dining-room the smoke-room all pleasant places with windows opening in the gardens then he introduced him to some gentleman to colonel hawker just come in from an after-breakfast game of croquet to major barstow and to a young man with no chin to speak of named smithers there were several others very quiet people the three mentioned are enough for consideration colonel hawker and major barstow were having an argument in the smoking-room when hoover and jones entered i did not say i did not believe you said barstow i said it was strange strange cried the colonel what do you mean by strange it's not the word i object to it's the tone you spoke him what's the dispute asked hoover why said barstow the colonel was telling me he had seen pigs in burma sixteen feet long and sunflowers twenty feet in diameter. Oh, that story, said Hoover. Yes, there's nothing strange in that. I'll knock any man down that doubts my word, said the colonel. That's flat. Hoover laughed. Jones shivered. Then the disputants went out to play another game of croquet, and Jones, picking up with Smithers,

played a game of billiards, Hoover going off and leaving them alone. After playing for about five minutes, Smithers, who had maintained an uncanny silence, broke off the game. Let's play something better than this, said he. Did you know I was rich? No, said Jones. Well, I'm very rich. Look here. He took five sovereigns from his pocket and showed them with pride. I play pitch and toss with these, said he. Hoover doesn't mind so long as I don't lose them.

Pitch and toss with sovereigns is fine fun. Let's have a game. Jones agreed. They sat on the die van and played pitch and toss. At the end of ten minutes, Jones had won twenty pounds. I think I will stop now, said Smithers. give me back that sovereign i lent you to toss with but you owe me twenty pounds said jones i'll pay you that to-morrow said smithers these sovereigns are not to be spent they are only for playing with oh that doesn't matter said jones handing back the coin and recognizing that penniless as he was here was a small fund to be drawn upon by cunning should he find a means of escape

I'm rich. I'm worth ten millions. Ten million sovereigns? Yes. Golden ones like these? Yes. I say, said Smithers, could you lend me one or two? Yes, rather. But you mustn't tell Hoover. Of course I won't.

When will you lend me them? When I get my... bag of sovereigns from London. They were coming down soon. I like you, said Smithers. We'll be great friends, won't we? Rather, come out in the garden. They went out. The garden encircled the house, big wrought iron gates, locked, gave upon the road. The tennis and croquet lawns lay at the back of the house, brick walls, covered in part with fruit trees, surrounded the whole place. The wall on the left of the house struck Jones as being practicable,

and he noticed that none of the walls were spiked or glassed. Hoover's patients were evidently not of the dangerous and agile type. What's at the other side of this wall? asked Jones, as they passed along by the left-hand barrier. Smithers giggled. Girls, said he. girls what sort of girls little ones with long hair and bigger ones they learn their lessons there it's a school the gardener left his ladder there one day and i climbed up there were lots of girls there i nodded to them and they all came to the wall i made them all laugh i asked them to come over the wall and tossed for sovereigns then a lady came and told them me to go away. She didn't seem to like me. Jones, all during luncheon, the meal was served in his own

apartments, revolved things in his mind, Smithers amongst others. Smithers' mania for handling gold had evidently been satisfied by giving him these few coins to play with. They were real ones. Jones had satisfied himself on that. Smithers, despite his, his want of chin, was evidently not a person to be put off with counterfeit coin. Jones had come down from London dressed just as he had called at Curzon Street, that is to say, in a black morning coat and gray trousers. His tall hat had evidently been forgotten by his deporters. After luncheon, he asked for a cap to wear in the garden and was supplied with a gray tweed

shooting cap of hoover's. with this on his head he took his seat in an arbor an arbor which he noticed had its opening facing the house here smoking he continued revolving his plans and here afternoon tea was served to him ten minutes later the colonel and the major began another game of croquet and five minutes after that came from the house smithers with a butterfly net in his hand jones left the arbor and joined smithers the sovereigns have come said jones the bag of sovereigns yes with a big red seal from the bankers i'm going to give you fifty oh lord said smithers but you haven't said anything to hoover not a word but you must do something for me before i give you them what's that i want you to go up to colonel hawker and take him aside yes and tell him that major barstow says he's a liar yes that's all that's easy enough said smithers i'll stand by the wall here and if any of the girls look over as they probably will for i'm going to whistle to them i'll make them come over and toss for sovereigns that would be a lark said the unfortunate bother said jones i forgot what all my sovereigns are upstairs in the bag i know lend me yours whilst i'm waiting

i-i never lend sovereigns said smithers why i'm going to give you fifty and i only ask you to lend me five for a moment in case those girls smithers put his hand in his pocket and produced the coins they were in a little shammie leather bag don't open the bag said he just shake it and they'll know there are sovereigns in it by the noise right said jones now go and tell colonel hawker that major barstow says he's a liar smithers went off butterfly net in hand jones was under no delusion he reckoned that the garden was always under surveillance and that a man getting over a wall would have little chance of reaching the street unless he managed to distract the attention of watchers he thought it probable that his conversation with smithers had been watched and possibly the handing over of some article noted there was a seat just here close to the wall he sat down on it pulled his cap over his eyes and stretched out his legs then under the peak of the cap he watched smithers approaching colonel hawker interrupt him just as he was on the point of making a stroke and lead him aside the effect on the colonel's mind of the interruption to his stroke followed by the sudden information that his veracity had been impeached was miraculous and sudden as the slap on the side of the face that sent the butterfly hunter flying the attack on barstow who seemed to fight well the cries the shouts the imprecation

the fact that half a dozen people inmates and attendants joined in the confusion as if by magic all this was nothing to jones nor was the subsidiary fact that one of the inmates a quiet-mannered clergyman with a taste for arson had taken advantage of the confusion and was patiently and sedulously at work firing the thatch of the summer house in six different places with a large long concealed box of matches. Jones, on the stroke of the colonel, had risen from the seat, and with the aid of a wall-trained plum-tree, had reached the top of the wall and dropped on the other side into a bed of Mignonette. It was a hockey day at the school, and there were no girls in the garden. He ran across it to the open front gate and reached the road, ran down the road, which was deserted,

and burning in the late afternoon sunshine, reached a side road and slackened his pace. All the roads were of the same pattern, broad, respectable, and lined with detached and semi-detached houses set in gardens, and labeled according to the owner's fancy. Old Anglo-Indian colonels and majors lived here,

and one knew their houses by such names as luck now, conpore, etc., just as one knows azaleas by their blossoms. Jones, like an animal making for cover, pushed on till he reached a street of shops.

A long, long street, running north and south with the shop fronts on the eastern side, sunblinded and sunlit. A peep of blue and perfect sea showed at the end of the street, and on the sea the white sail of a boat sand borne on sea is a pleasant place to stay at but jones did not want to stay there his mind was working feverishly there was sure to be a railway station somewhere and as surely the railway station would be the first place they would hunt for him

london was his objective london and the national provincial bank but of the direction or the distance to be travelled he knew no more than the man in the moon end of chapter twenty three recording by roger maline chapter twenty four of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter twenty four he runs to earth as the fox seeks an earth he was seeking for a hole to hide him across the road a narrow house set between a fishmonger's shop and a seaside library displayed in one of its lower windows a card with the word apartments jones crossed the road to this house and knocked at the halled door door. He waited a minute and a half, 90 seconds, and every second a framed vision of Hoover in pursuit, Hoover and his assistants streaming like hounds on a hot scent. Then he found a decrepit bell and pulled it. Almost on the pull the door opened, disclosing a bustless, sharp-eyed, and cheerful-looking little woman of fifty or so, wearing a cameo brooch and Cornelian rings.

She wore other things, but you did not notice them. "'Have you rooms to let?' asked Jones. "'Well, sir, I have the front parlor unoccupied,' replied the landlady. "'And two bedrooms on the top floor. Are there any children?' "'No,' said Jones. "'I came down here alone for a holiday. May I see the rooms?' she took him to the top front bedroom first it was clean and tidy just like herself and gave a cheery view of the shop fronts on the opposite side of the street jones looking out of the window saw something that held him for a moment fascinated and forgetful of his surroundings and his companion hoover no less walking hurriedly and accompanied by a man who looked like a gardener

they were passing towards the sea looking about them as they went hoover had the appearance of a person who has lost a purse or some article of value so jones thought as he watched them vanish he turned to the landlady i like this room said he it is cheerful and quiet just the sort of place i want now let's see the parlor the parlor boasted of a horsehair sofa chairs to match pictures to match and a glass-fronted bookcase containing volumes of the sunday companion sword and trowel home influence and weeda's moths in the old yellow back two-shilling edition very nice indeed said jones what do you charge well sir said the landlady her name was henshaw it's a pound a week for the two rooms without board two pounds with any extras asked the artful jones no sir well that will do me nicely i came along here right from the station and my portmanteau hasn't arrived though it was labeled for here, and the porter told me he had put it on the train. I'll have to go up to the station this evening again to see if it has arrived. Meanwhile, seeing I haven't my luggage with me, I'll pay you in advance.

She assured him that this was unnecessary, but he insisted. When she had accepted the money, she asked him what he would have for supper, or would he preferred late dinner. "'Supper,' replied Jones. "'Oh, anything. I'm not particular.' Then he found himself alone. He sat down in the horsehair sofa to think. Would Hoover circularize his description and offer a reward?

No, that was highly improbable. Hoover's was a high-class establishment. He would avoid publicity as much as possible. But he would be pretty sure to use the intelligence such as it was, of the police, telling them to act with caution. Would he make inquiries at all the lodging houses? That was a doubtful point. Jones tried to fancy himself in Hoover's position and failed.

One thing certainly Hoover would do. Have all the exits from Sanborn-on-Sea watched. That was the logical thing to do, and Hoover was a logical man. There was nothing to do but do. give the hunt time to cool off. And at this thought, the prospect of days of lurking in this room of right angles and horsehair-covered furniture, rose up before him like a black billow. Then came the almost comforting thought. He could not lurk without creating suspicion on the part of Mrs. Henshaw. He would have to get out somehow. The weather was glorious, and the strip of seaweed

hanging by the mantelpiece, dry as tender. A seaside visitor who sat all day in his room in the face of such weather would create a most unhealthy interest in the mind of any seaside landlady. No, whatever else he might do, he could not lurk. The most terrible things in dramatic situations are the little things that speak to one for once in their lives. The pattern of the carpet that tells you that there's is no doubt of the fact that your wife has run away with all your money and left you with

seven children to look after, the form of the chair tells you that justice with a noose in her hand is waiting on the front doorstep. Jones, just now, was under the obsession of the picture of the room, whose place was above the mantelpiece. It was an oleograph of a gentleman in uniform, probably the Prince consort, correct, sane, urbane. A terrible comparison for a man in an insane situation, for insanity is not confined to the brain of man or its productions. Though heaven knows she has a fine field of movement in both. A thundering, rat-tat-tat at the hall door brought Jones to his feet. He heard the door answered, a voice outside San Diego. saying, thank you, and the door shut. It was some parcel left in. Then he heard

Mrs. Henshaw descending the kitchen stairs and all was quiet. He turned to the bookcase, opened it, inspected the contents, and chose moths. End of Chapter 24. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 25 of the man who lost himself. recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. The Man Who Lost Himself by H. Devere Stackpool. Chapter 25.

Moths. In ill health or convalescence, or worry or tribulation. The ordinary mind does not turn to Milton or Shakespeare, or even to the sermons of Charles Haddon Spurgeon. There are few classics that will stand the test of a a cold in the head or a fit of depression, or a worrying husband, or a minor tragedy. Here the writer of light fiction stands firm. Jones had never been a great reader, he had read a cheap novel or two, but his browsings

in the literary fields had been mainly confined to the uplands where the grass is improving. Color, poetry, and construction in fiction were unknown to him. and now he suddenly found himself on the beach at trueville on the beach at trueville with lady dolly skipping before him in the sea he had reached the forced engagement of the beautiful heroine to the wicked russian prince when the door opened and the supper tray entered followed by mrs henshaw left to honor and her own initiative she had produced a huge lobster followed by cheese and three little dull-looking jam tarts on a willow patterned plate when jones had ruined the lobster and devoured the tarts he went on with the book the lovely heroine had become for him teresa countess of rochester the opera singer himself and the russian prince maniloff then the deepening dusk tore him from the book work had to be done he rang the bell told mrs henshaw that he was going to the railway station to see after his luggage took his cap and went out strangely enough he did not feel nervous the first flurry had passed and he had adapted himself to the situation the deepening darkness gave him a sense of security and the lights of the shops cheered him somehow he turned to the left towards the sea

fifty yards down the street he came across a gentleman's outfitters in whose windows colored neckties screamed and fancy shirts raised their discordant voices with gents summer waistcoats and those panama hats adored in the year of this story by the river and seaside youth jones under the hands of rochester's valet and forced by circumstances to use rochester's clothes was one of the best-dressed men in london left to himself in this matter he was lost he had no idea of what to wear or what not to wear no idea of the social damnation that lies in tweed trousers not to wear no idea of the social damnation that lies in tweed trousers not to turned up at the bottom, fancy waistcoats, made evening ties, a bowler worn with a black morning coat, or dogskin gloves. Heinenberg and Oberman of Philadelphia had dressed him, till Stultz unconsciously took the business over. He was barely conscious of the incongruity of his present get-up, topped by the tweeds shooting cap of Hoover's, but he was quite conscious of the fact that some alteration in dress was imperative as a means towards escape from Sanborn-on-Sea.

He entered the shop of Toller and Simkinson, bought a six-and-eleven penny Panama, put it on, and had the tweed cap done up in a parcel. Then a flannel coat attracted him, a gray flannel tennis coat price fifteen shillings. It fitted him to a charm, save for the almost negligent. fact that the sleeves came down nearly to his knuckles then he bought a night shirt for three and eleven and had the whole lot done up in one parcel at a chemist's next door he bought a toothbrush in the mirror across the counter he caught a glimpse of himself in the panama it seemed to him that not only had he never looked so well in any other headgear but that his appearance was completely altered charmed and comforted he left the shop next door to the chemists and at the street corner was a public house jones felt certain from his knowledge of hoover that the very last place to come across one of his assistants would be a public house he entered the public bar took a seat by the counter and ordered a glass of beer and a packet of cigarettes the place was rank with the fumes of cheap tobacco and cigarettes and the smell of beer. Hard gaslight showed no adornment,

nothing but pitch-pine panelling, spittoons, bottles on shelves, and an almanac. The barmaid, a long-necked girl with red hands, and cheap rings and a rose in her belt, detached herself from earnest conversation with the youth in a bowler inhabiting the saloon bar, pulled a handle, dumped a glass of beer before Jones, and gave him change without word or glance, returning to her conversation with the bowler youth. She evidently had no eyes at all for people in the public bar. There are grades, even in the tavern.

Close to where Jones had taken his seat was standing a person in broken shoes, an old straw hat, a coat, with parcels evidently in the tailpour. pockets and trousers frayed at the heels he had a red unshaven face and was reading the evening courier suddenly he banged the paper with the tips of the fingers of his right hand and cast it on the counter government government nice sort of government paying each other four hundred a year for follow and ask with and robbing the landowners to get the money god lummey he paused to light a filthy clay pipe he had his eyes on jones and evidently considered him for some occult reason of the same way of political thinking as himself and he addressed him in that impersonal way in which one addresses an audience they've downed and outed the house o lords and now they're scragge in the welsh church after that they'll go for the landed proprietor and finish him and who's to blame

the radicals no they ain't to blame no more than rats for their instincts we're to blame the conservatives is to blame we haven't got a fighting man to protect us the radicals has got all the talent you look at the fight bonne laur's been making this week fight a blind tom-cat with his head in an old tamartar tin would make a better fight than bono lar's put up look at churchill that chap was one of us once he was born to lead the clarses and now look at him leading the marses up to his neck in radical dirt and pretending he likes it he doesn't but he's a man with an eye in his head and he knows what we are a boneless lot without organization i say it myself i said it was only last night in this here bar and i say it again for two pins I'd chuck my party. I would so. For two pins I'd chuck the country and leave the whole lot to stew in their own grease. He addressed himself to his beer, and Jones, greatly marveling, lit a cigarette. Do you live here? asked he. Should think I did, replied the other. Born here and bread here and been watching the place going down for the last twenty years turning from a decent

residential neighborhood to a collection of schools and lodging houses losing clarts every year why the biggest house here is owned by a chap that sells patent food there's two socialists on the town council and the mayor last year was hoover a chap that owns a lunatic asylum one of his loonies got out last March and near did for a child on the Southgate Road before he was collared, and yet they make a mayor of him. Have another drink, said Jones. I don't mind if I do. Well, here's luck, said he, putting his nose into the new glass.

Luck, said Jones. Do Hoover's lunatics often escape? Escape? ape why i heard only an hour ago another of em was out god help him if the town folk catch him in any of his tricks and god help hoover a chap has no right coming down and setting up a business like that in a place like this full of nursemaids and children people bring their innocent children down here to play on the sands and any minute that place may break loose like a bum shell that's not marked down on the prospectus here to play on the sands and any minute that place may break loose like a bum shell that's not marked down on the prospectus they published with pictures done in blue and yaller, and lies about the air and water, and the salubriarity of the South Coast. No, I suppose not, said Jones.

Well, I must be going, said the other, emptying his glass and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Good night to you. Good night. The upholder of church and state shuffled out, leaving Jones to his thought. thoughts. Wind of the business had got about the town, and even at that moment, no doubt, people were carefully locking back doors and looking in outhouses. It was unfortunate that the last man to escape from the Hoover establishment had been violently inclined. That was the one thing needed to stimulate rumor and make her spread. Having sat for ten minutes longer and consumed another glass of tepid beer, he took his departure. Mrs. Henshaw led him in, and having informed her of his journey to the station,

the fruitlessness of his quest, and his opinion of the railway company, its servants and its methods, he received his candle and went to bed. End of Chapter 25. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 26 of the man who lost himself. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter twenty six a tramp and other things he was awakened by a glorious morning and looking out of his window he saw the street astir in the sunshine stout men in white flannels with morning newspapers in their hands children already on their way to the beach with spades and buckets all the morning life of an english sea-coast town and summer then he dressed he had no razor his beard was beginning to show and to go about unshaved was impossible to his nature

for a moment the wild idea of letting his beard grow that oldest form of disguise occurred to him only to be dismissed immediately a beard takes a month to grow he had neither the time nor the money to do it nor the inclination at breakfast two kippard herrings and marmalade he held a council of war with himself nature has equipped every animal with means for offense and defense to man she has given daring and that strange indifference in cold blood to danger when danger has become familiar which seems the attribute of man alone jones determined to risk everything go out prospect find some likely road of escape and make a bold dash. The eight thousand pounds in the London bank shone before him like a galaxy of eight stars. No one knew of its existence. What he was to do when he had secured it was a matter for future consideration. Probably he would return right away to the States.

One great thing about all this Hoover business was the fact that it had freed him from the haunting dread of those terrible sensations. of duality and negation fighting is the finest antidote to nerve troubles and mental dreads and he was fighting now for his liberty for the fact stood clearly before him that whether the rochester family believed him to be rochester or believed him to be jones it was to their interest to hold him as a lunatic in peaceful retirement having breakfasted he lit a cigarette asked mrs henshaw for a latch-key so that he might not trouble her put on his panama and went out there was a barber's shop across the way he entered it found a vacant chair and he entered it found a vacant chair and was shaved. Then he bought a newspaper and strolled in the direction of the beach. The idea had come to him that he might be able to hire a sailing boat and reach London that way. A preposterous and vague idea that still, however, led him till he reached the esplanade

and stood with the sea wind blowing in his face. The only sailing boats visible were excursion craft, guarded by longshoremen, loading up with trippers and showing placards to allure the innocent. The sands were swarming, and the bathing machines crawling towards the sea. He came on to the beach and took his seat on the warm white sands, with freedom before him had he been a gull or a fish. To take one of those cockleshell rowboats and scull a few miles down the coast would lead him, where?

Only along the coast, rock-strewn. beyond the sands and faced with cliffs. Of boatcraft, he had no knowledge, the sea was choppy, and the sailing boats now out seemed going like race-horses over hurdles. No, he would wait till after luncheon. Then, in that somnolent hour when all men's thoughts are a bit dulled, and vigilant least awake, he would find some road on good hard land and make his dash. He would try and get a bicycle, map of this part of Wessex. He had noticed a big stationers and booksellers near the beach, and he would call there on his way back. Then he fell to reading his paper, smoking cigarettes, and watching the crowd. Watching, he was presently rewarded with the sight of the present-day

disgrace of England. Out of a bathing tent and into the full sunlight came a girl with nothing on, for skin-tight blue stockinette is nothing in the eyes of modesty. Every elevation, every depression, every crease in her shameless anatomy exposed to a hundred pairs of eyes, she walked calmly towards the water. A young man to match followed. Then they wallowed in the sea. Jones forgot Hoover. He recalled Lady Dolly in moths. Lady Dolly, who, who, who, on the beach of sand-born-on-sea would have been the pink of propriety, and the inhabitants of this beach were not wicked society people, but respectable middle-class folk. That's pretty thick, said Jones to an old gentleman like a goat sitting close to him,

whose eyes were fixed in contemplation on the bathers. What? That girl in blue. Don't any of them wear decent clothes? The scragy ones do, replied. the other speaking in a far-away and contented manner at about half-past eleven jones left the beach tired of the glare and the bathers and the sand-digging children he called at the bookshop and for a shilling obtained a bicycle map of the coast and sitting on a seat outside the shop scanned it there were three roads out of sandbourne on sea the london road a road across the cliff to the west, and a road across the cliffs to the east.

The easterly road led to Northbourne, a seaside town some six or seven miles away. The westerly road to Southbourne, some fifteen miles off. London lay 60 miles to the north. The railway touched the London Road at Houghton Admiral, a station some nine miles up the line. That was the position. should he take the london road and board a train at houghton admiral or take the road to northbourne and get a train from there the three ways lay before him like the three fates and he determined on the london road however man proposes and god disposes he folded up the map put it in his pocket and started for home or at least mrs henshaws

just at the commencement of the street he paused before photographers to inspect the pictures exposed for view groups family parties children and girls with undecided features he turned from the contemplation of these things and found himself face to face with hoover hoover must have turned into the street from a byway for only sixty seconds before the street had been hooverless he was dressed in a norfolk jacket and knickerbockers and his calves showed huge hello said jones the exclamation was ejected from him so to speak by the mental shock hoover's hand shot out to grasp his prey what happened then was described by mr shantz the german draper across the way to a friend the thin man hit mr hoover in the stomach who sat down but lifted himself at once and pursued him jones ran after him followed a constable sprung from nowhere boys a dog that seemed running for exercise and hoover he reached the house of mrs henshaw pulled the latch-key from his pocket plunged it in the lock opened the door and shut it so close was the pursuit on him that the bang bang of the knocker followed at once on the bang of the door then the bell went peal after peal jones made for the kitchen stairs and bolted down them found a passage leading to the back door and disregarding the bewildered mrs henshaw who was coming out of the kitchen with her hands all over flour found the back yard

a blank wall lay before him another on the right and another on the left the left and right walls divided the henshaw back yard from the yards of the houses on either side the wall immediately before him divided it from the back yard of a house in minerva terrace which was parallel to the high street jones chose this wall a tenantless dog kennel standing before it helped him and next moment he was over shaken up with a drop of twelve feet and facing a clothes line full of linen. He dived under a sheet and almost into the back of a broad woman hanging linen on a second clothes line, found the back door of the house, which the broad woman had left open, ran down a passage, up a kitchen stairs, and into a hall. An old gentleman in list slippers, coming out of a room on the right, asked him what he wanted. Jones, recalling the affair later, could hear the old gentleman's voice and words.

He did not pause to reply. He opened the hall door, and the next moment he was in Minerva Terrace. It was fortunately deserted. He ran to the left, found a byway, and a terrace of artisans' dwellings, new, hideous, and composed of yellow brick. In front of the terrace lay fields. A gate in the hedge invited him, he climbed over it, crossed a field, found another gate, which led him to another field, and found himself surrounded by the silence of the country. A silence pierced and thrilled by the songs of larks.

Larks make the sea lands of the south and east coast insufferable. One lark in a suitable setting, and for a while, is delightful. But twenty larks in all grades of ascent and descent, some near, some distant, make for melancholy. Jones crouched in a hedge for a while to get back his breath. He was lost. Roadmaps were not much used to him here. The larks insisted on that, jubilantly or sorrowfully, according to the stage of their flight. Then something or someone immediately behind him on the other side of the hedge,

breathed a huge sigh, as if lamenting over his fate. He jumped up. It was a cow. He could see her through the brambles, and smell her too, sweet as a Devonshire dairy. Then he sat down again to think and examine the map, which he had fortunately placed in his pocket. The roads were there, but how to reach them was the problem, and the London road, to which he had pinned his faith, was now impossible. It would be surely watched. He determined, after a long consultation with himself, to make for Northbourne,

striking across the field straight ahead and picking up the cliff road somewhere on its course. He judged, and rightly enough, that Hoover would hunt for him, not along the coast, but inland. Northbourne was not the road to London, even though a train might be caught from Northbourne. The whole business was desperate, but this course seemed the least desperate way out of it. And he need not hurry. Speed would be of no avail in this race against fate. He took the money from his pocket and counted it. Out of the nine pounds he started with from Hoovers, there remained only five pounds, eleven, and nine pence. he had spent as follows mrs henshaw two pounds panama six and eleven pence night shirt three and eleven pence coat fifteen shillings

public house ten shillings shave and newspaper seven shillings road map one shilling total three pounds eight shillings threepence he went over these accounts and checked them in his head then he put the money back in his pocket and started on his way across the fields despite all his worries this english country interested him it also annoyed him fields the size of pocket handkerchiefs divided one from the other by monstrous hedges and deep ditches to cross this country in a straight line one would want to be a deer or a bounding kangaroo gates always at corners and always diagonal to his path gave him access from one field to the other trees there were none the english tree has an antipathy to the sea and keeps away from it but the hedge has no sensitiveness of this sort these hedges seem to love the sea to judge by their size he was just in the act of clambering over one of the innumerable gates when a voice hailed him he looked back a young man in leggings who had evidently been following him unperceived raised a hand jones finished his business with the gate and then with it between him and the stranger waited he was well dressed in a rough way evidently a superior sort of farmer and physically a person to be reckoned with he was also an exceedingly cantankerous-looking individual you know that you are trespassing asked he when they were within speaking distance no said jones well you are i must ask you for your name and address please

what on earth for what harm am i doing your old fields jones had forgotten his position everything before the outrage on common sense you are trespassing that's all i must ask you for your name an address. Now to Jones came the recollection of something he had read somewhere, a statement that in England there was no law of trespass in the country places, and that a person might go anywhere to pick mushrooms or wild flowers, and no landlord could interfere so long as no damage was done. "'Don't you know the law?' asked Jones. He recited the law accordingly to the unknown. The other listened politely.

I ask you for your name and address, said he. Our lawyers will settle the other matter. Then anger came to Jones. I am the Earl of Rochester, said he, and my address is Carlton House Terrace, London. I have no cards on me. Then the queerest sensation came to Jones, for he saw that the other had recognized him.

Rochester was evidently as well known to the ordinary Englishman, by picture and repute, as Lloyd George. "'I beg your pardon,' said the other, "'but the fact is that my land is overrun with people from Sandbourne. Sorry.' "'Oh, don't mention it,' replied the Earl of Rochester. "'I shan't do any damage. Good day.' They parted, and he pursued his way. A mile farther on, he came upon a person with broken boots, a beery face, and clothes to match his boots. This person was seated in the sunshine under a hedge, a bundle and a tin can beside him.

He hailed Jones as governor and requested a match. Jones supplied the match and they fell into conversation. Northbourne, said the tramp. I'm going that way myself. I'll show you the quickest way when I've had a suck at me pipe. Jones rested for a moment by the hedge whilst the pipe was lit.

The trespass business was still hot in his mind. The cave-in of the landlord had not entirely removed the sense of outrage. Aren't you afraid of being held up for trespass? asked he. Trespass, replied the other. Not me. I ain't a few. fear of no farmers. Jones gave his experience.

Don't you be under no bloomin error, said the tramp when the recital was finished. That chap was right enough. That chap couldn't touch the likes of me, unless he lied and swore I'd broke fences, but he could touch the likes of you. I know the law. I know it, in and out. Landlords don't know it as well as me. That chap knows the love. or else he wouldn't have been so keen on getting your name and where you lived. But how could he have touched me if he cannot touch you? The tramp chuckled. I'll tell you, said he, and I'll tell you what he'll do now he's got where you live.

He'll go to the court of chancery and ask for a junction against you to stop you going over his fields. You don't want to go over his fields anymore. That don't matter. He'll get his junction and you'll have to pay the blooming costs see the blooming costs and what will that amount to god knows maybe a hundred pound lots of folks take it into their silly heads they can go where they want they can't not if the landlord knows his lore not unless they're hoofin it like me lot of use bringing me up to the court of chancery do you mean to say that just for walking over a field a man can be had up to the court of chancery and fined a hundred pounds he ain't fined it's took off him in costs you seem to know a lot about the law said jones calling up the man of the public-house last night and coming to the conclusion that amongst the english lower orders there must be a vast fund of a peculiar sort of intelligence yes said the tramp i told you i did then interestedly what might your name be jones repeated the magic formula to see the effect i am the earl of rochester lord rochester thought i knew your face lost half a quid over your horse running at gotwood park last spring twelve months white lady came in second to the nun half a quid

i'd made a bit on champagne bottle in the selling plate run me i over the lists and picked out white lady didn't know nothin about her said to a friend here's my fancy don't know nothin about her but she's one of lord rochester's and his horses run straight that's what i said his horses run straight and give me a straight run boss with a wooden leg before any of your flyers with a dope in his belly or a pulling jockey on his back but the groan did her she was beat on the post by half a neck you'll remember she'd a won me two lengths only for that bit of soggy ground be the post that ground want over hollin half a shower of rain and boss wants fins and flippers instead of hoofs yes said jones that's so a few barrel loads of gravel would put it right right, continued the other. It ain't fair on the hosses, and it ain't fair on the backers. Arf a quid I dropped in that mucky bit of ground. Last Doncaster meeting I was saying the very same thing to Lor Lonsdale over the

Doncaster course. I met him, man to man like, outside the ring, and he handed me out a cigar. We talked same as you and me might be talking now, and I says to him, what we want's more money put into drains on the courses look at them mucky farmers the way they drains their land said i and look at us running husses and lay on our bets and let down husses and backers and all for want of the courses being looked after proper he tapped the dawdle out of his pipe picked up the bundle and rose grumbling then he led the way in the direction of northbourne it was a a little after three o'clock now, and the day was sultry. Jones, despite his other troubles, was vastly interested in his companion. The height of Rochester's position had never appeared truly till shown him by the farmer in this

tramp. They knew him. To them, without any doubt, the philosophers and poets of the world were unknown, but they knew the Earl of Rochester, and not unfavorably. millions upon millions of the english world were equally acquainted with his lordship he was most evidently a national figure his unconventionality his larks his lavishness and his horse-racing propensities however they might pain his family would be meet to the legions who loved a lord who loved a bet who loved a horse and a picturesque spendthrift to be rochester was not only to be a lord it was more than that it was to be famous a national character whose picture was printed on the retina of the million never had jones felt more inclined to stick to his position than now with the hounds in his traces a tramp for his companion and darkness ahead.

He felt that if he could once get to London, once lay his hands on that eight thousand pounds lying in the National Provincial Bank, he could fight. Fight for freedom. Get lawyers to help him and retain his phantom coronet. He had ceased to fear madness.

All that dread of losing himself had vanished, at least for the moment. Hoover had cured him. meanwhile they talked as they went the tramp laying down the law as to rights over commons and wastelands seeming absolutely to forget that he was talking to or supposed to be talking to a landed proprietor at last they reached the white ribbon that runs over the cliffs from sandbourne to northbourne and beyond here's the road said the tramp and i'll be taken leave of your lordship i'll take it easy for a bit amongst them bushes there's no call for me to hurry i shan't forget meeting your lordship blimey if i will me sitting there under that hedge and thinking of that half quid i dropped over a white lady and your lordship coming along it gets me up to this moment of parting he had not once lordships jones jones feeling in his pocket produced the half sovereign which with five pounds one and nine pens, made up his worldly wealth at the moment.

He handed it over, and the tramp spat on it for luck. Then they parted, and the fugitive resumed his way with a lighter pocket, but a somewhat lighter heart. There are people who increase and people who reduce one's energy. It is sometimes enough to look at them without even talking to them. The tramp belonged to the former class. He had cheered, Jones. There was nothing particularly cheery in his conversation. All the same the effect had been produced.

Now, along the cliff road, and coming from the direction of Northbourne, a black speck developed, resolving itself at last into the form of an old man carrying a basket. The basket was filled with apples and Banbury cakes. Jones bought eight Banbury cakes. and two apples with his one in ninepence and then took his seat on the warm turf by the way to devour them he lay on his side as he ate and cursed hoover to lie there for an hour on this idyllic day to watch the white gulls flying to listen to the whisper of the sea far below what could be better than that he determined if ever he should win freedom and money to return here for a holiday he was thinking this when raised now on his elbow he saw something moving amongst the bushes and long grass of the wastelands bordering the cliff road it was a man a man on all fours yet moving swiftly a sight natural enough in the deer-stalking highlands but uncanny on these wessex downs jones leaving four banbury cakes uneaten on the grass

sprang to his feet so did the crawling one then the race began the pursuer was handicapped any two sides of a triangle are longer than the third a right line towards jones would save many yards but the going would be bad on account of the brambles and bushes a straight line to the road would lengthen the distance to be covered but would give a much better course when the road was reached he chose the last ladder. The result was that when the race really started, the pursuer was nearly half a mile to the bad, but he had not recently consumed four Banbury cakes and two apples. Super Banbury cakes of the dear old days, when margarine was ninepence a pound, flour unlimited, and currents unsought after by the wealthy. Jones had not run for years. And in this connection, it is quite surprising how society pursues a man once he gets over the barrier, and especially when he has to run for his liberty.

The first mile was bad, then he got his second wind handed to him, despite everything, by a fair constitution and a fairly respectable life, but the pursuer was now only a quarter of a mile behind. Up to this the course had been clear with no spectators, but now came along from the direction of northbourne an invalid on the arm of an attendant and behind them a boy on a bicycle the bicycle was an inspiration it was also yellow-painted and bore a carrier in front blazoned with the name of a northbourne italian warehouseman it contained parcels evidently intended for one of the few bungalows that strewed the cliff the boy fought to defend his master's property briefly but still he fought till a happy stroke in the wind laid him on the sun-worn turf

the screams of the invalid it was a female sounded in the ears of jones like part of some fantastic dream so seemed the bicycle it had no bell the saddle wanted raising at least two inches still it went and the wind was behind on the right was a sheer drop of two hundred feet and the road here skirted the cliff edge murderously close for the simple reason that cliff falls had eaten the bordering grass to within a few feet of the road this course on an unknown and questionable bicycle laden with parcels of tea and sugar was open to a good many objections they did not occur to jones he was making good speed or thought he was till the long declivity leading to northbourne was reached here he began to know what speed really was for he found on pressing the lever that the brake would not act fortunately it was a free wheel this declivity runs between detached villas and stone walls sheltering prim gardens right on to the west end of the esplanade which is in fact a continuation of of it. For the first few hundred yards, Jones thought that nothing could go quicker than the houses and walls rushing past him towards the end he was not thinking. The esplanade opened out, a happy band of children with buckets and wooden spades, returning home to tea, opened

out, gave place to rushing apartment houses with green balconies on the left, rushing seascape and bathing machines on the right. Then the speed slackened he got off shaking and looked behind him he had reached the east end of the promenade it lay as it always lies towards five o'clock absolutely deserted by visitors in the distance and just stepped out of a newspaper kiosk a woman was standing shading her eyes and looking towards him two boatmen near her were looking in the same direction they did not seem excited just mildly interested at that moment appeared in the long slope leading down to the esplanade the figure of a man running he looked like a policeman a seaside policeman jones did not pause to verify he propped the bicycle against the rails of a veranded house and ran the esplanade at this the eastern end ascends to the town by a zigzag road as he took this ascent the mind of jones far from being clouded or dulled was acutely active it saw that now the railway station of northbourne was out of count flight by train was impossible for the station was the very first place that would be watched the coast line to judge by present results was impossible for it seemed that to keep to it he might go on forever being chased till he reached jonah groats

northbourne is the twin image of sandbourne on sea the same long high street the same shops with blinds selling the same whairs the same trippers children with spades and invalids the two towns are rivals each claiming the biggest brass band the longest esplanade the fewer deaths from drowning the best drains the most sunlight and the swiftest trains and the swiftest trains the swiftest trains from London. Needless to say that one of them is not speaking the truth, a fact that does not seem to disturb either of them in the least. Jones, walking swiftly, passed a seaside boot shop, a butcher's, greengrocers, and Italian warehouse, the same, to judge by the name over the door, that had sent forth a messenger boy on the bicycle. Then came a cinema palace with huge pictures splashed across with yellow bands announcing to-night then a milliners then a post-office and lastly a livery stable in front of the ladder stood a charabank nearly full a blackboard announced in white chalk two hours drive two shillings and the congregation in the charra bank had that stamp stout women children a weedy man or two

and a honeymoon couple jones without the slightest hesitation climbed into the charabank it seemed sent by heaven it was a seat it went somewhere and it was a hiding place seated amongst these people he felt intuitively that a viewless barrier lay between him and his pursuers that it was the very last place a man in search of a runaway would glance at he was right Whilst the cherubank still lingered on the chance of a last customer, the running policeman, he was walking now, appeared at the sea end of the street. He was a young man with a face like an apple. He wore a straw helmet. Northbourne serves out straw helmets for its police and straw hats for its horses on the 1st of June each year,

and he seemed blown. He was looking about him from right to left, but he never looked once at the charabank and its contents he went on and round the corner of the street he vanished still looking about him a few moments later the vehicle started the contents were cheerful and communicative one with the other conversing freely on all sorts of matters and jones listening despite himself gathered all sorts of information on subjects ranging from the pictures then exhibiting at the Cinema Palace to the price of butter. He discovered that the contents consisted of three family parties, exclusive of the honeymoon couple, and that the appearance of universal fraternity was deceptive,

that the parties were exclusive, the conversation of each being confined to its own members. So occupied was his mind by these facts that they were a mile and a half away from Northbourne and in the depths of the country, before a great doubt seized him. He called across the heads of the others to the driver, asking where they were going to. "'Sanborn on sea,' said the driver. "'Now, though the Sanbornites hate the Northburnites, as the jelphs, the jibelines,

though the two towns are at advertisemental war, the favorite pleasure drive of the charabanks of sandbourne is to northbourne and vice versa it is chosen simply because the road is the best thereabouts and the gradients the easiest for the horses sandbourne on sea cried jones yes said the driver the vision of himself being carted back to sanborn on sea with that crowd and and then back again to Northbourne, if he were not caught, appeared to Jones for the moment as the last possible grimace of fate. He struggled to get out, calling to the driver that he did not want to go to Sanborn. The vehicle stopped, and the driver demanded the full fare, two shillings. Jones produced one of his sovereigns, but the man could not make change,

neither could any of the passengers i'll call at the livery stables as i go back said jones and pay them there where are you staying in the town asked the driver belinda villa said jones it was the name of the villa against whose rails he had left the bicycle the idiocy of the title had struck him vaguely at the moment and the impression had remained mrs cass yes mrs cass is empty this unfortunate condition of mrs cass did not floor jones she was yesterday said he but i have taken the front parlor and a bedroom this afternoon that's true said a fat woman i saw the gentleman go in with his luggage in any congregation of people you will always find a liar ready to lie for fun or the excitement of having a part in the business on hand failing that a person equipped with an imagination that sees what it pleases this amazing statement of the fat woman almost took jones's breath away but there are other people in a crowd beside liars why can't the gentleman leave the sovereign with the driver and get the change in the morning asked one of the weedy-looking men this scarecrow had not said a word to any one during the drive he seemed born of mischance to live for that supreme moment diminish an honest man's ways of escape and wither jones withered him you shut up said he it's no affair of yours cheek then to the driver you know my address if you don't trust me you can come back with me and get change

then he turned and walked off whilst the vehicle drove on he waited till a bend of the road hid it from view and then he took to the fields on the left he had still the remains of the packet of cigarettes he had bought at sandbourne and having crossed four or five gates he took his seat under a hedge and lit a cigarette he was hungry he had done a lot of work on four banbury cakes and an apple end of chapter twenty six recording by roger maline chapter twenty seven of the man who lost himself this libervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter twenty seven the only man in the world who would believe him the tobacco took the edge from his desire for food increased his blood pressure and gave rest to his mind. He sat thinking. The story of moths rose up before his mind, and he fell to wondering how it ended,

and what became of the beautiful heroine with whom he had linked Teresa, countess of Rochester, or Zorov with whom he had linked Manilov, of Corrise with whom he had linked himself. The color of that story had tinctured all his seaside experiences. then mrs henshaw rose up before his mind what was she thinking of the lodger who had flashed through her life and vanished over the back garden wall

and the interview between her and hoover that would have been well worth seeing then the boy on the bicycle and the screaming invalid rose before him and that mad rush down the slope to the esplanade if those children with spades and buckets had not parted as they did if a dog had got in his way if the slope had ended in a curve he amused himself with picturing these possibilities and their results and then all at once a drowsiness more delightful than any dream closed on him and he fell asleep it was after dark when he awoke with the remnant of a moon lighting the field before him from far away and borne on the wind from the sea came a faint sound as of a delirious donkey with brass lungs braying at the moon. It was the sound of a band. The north-born brass band playing in the cliff gardens above the moonlit sea. Jones felt to see that his cigarettes and matches

were safe in his pocket, then he started, taking a line across country, trusting in Providence as a guide. Sometimes he paused and rested on a gate, listening to the faint and interminate sounds of the night through which came occasionally the barking of a distant dog like the beating of a trip-hammer it was a perfect summer's night one of those rare nights that england alone can produce there were glow-worms in the hedges and a scent of new-mown hay in the air though the music of the band had been blotted out by distance listening intently he caught the faintest suspicion of a whisper continuous and evidently the sound of the sea. An hour later, that is to say, towards eleven o'clock,

weary with finding his way out of fields, into fields, into grassy lanes and around farmhouse buildings, desperate and faint from hunger, Jones found a road, and by the road a bungalow with a light in one of the windows. A dauntingly respectable-looking bungalow in the window in the midst of a well-laid-out garden. Jones opened the gate and came up the path.

He was going to demand food, offered a pay for it if necessary, and produce gold as an evidence of good faith. He came into the veranda, found the front door, which was closed, struck a match, found the bell, pulled and pulled it. There was no response.

He waited a little, then rang again, with a like result. Then he came to the lighted window. It was a French window, only half-closed, and a half-turned lamp showed a comfortably furnished room and a table laid out for supper. Two places were set. A cold fowl, intact, on a dish, garnished with parsoning, stood side by side with a york ham, the worse for wear, a salad, a roll of cowslip. colored butter, a loaf of homemade bread, and a cheese tucked around with a snow-white napkin made up the rest of the eatables, whilst a decanter of claret shone invitingly by the seat of the carver. There was nothing wanting, or only the invitation. The fowl

supplied that. Jones pushed the window open and entered. Half-closing it again, he took his seat at the table, placing his hat on the floor beside him. Taking a sovereign from his pocket, he placed it on the white cloth. Then he fell too. You can generally tell a man by his claret, and judging from this claret, the unknown who had supplied the feast must have been a most estimable man, a man of understanding and parts, a man not to be diluted by specious wine-list, a generous warm-hearted and full-blooded soul and here he was a step sounded on the veranda the window was pushed open and a man of forty years or so well-dressed tall thin dark and saturnine stood before the feaster

he showed no surprise removing his hat he bowed jones half rose hello said he confusedly with his mouth full then he subsided into his chair i must apologize for being late said the tall man placing his hat on a chair rubbing his long hands together and moving to the vacant seat i was unavoidably detained but i'm glad you did not wait supper he took his seat spread his napkin on his knees and poured himself out a glass of claret his eyes were fixed on the sovereign lying upon the cloth he had noted it from the first jones picked it up and put it in his pocket that's right said the unknown then as if in reply to a question i will have a wing please jones cut a wing of the fowl placed it in the extra plate which he had placed on one side of the table and presented it the other cut himself some bread helped himself to salad salt and pepper and started eating absolutely as though nothing unusual had occurred or was occurring for half a minute or so neither spoke then jones said look here said he i want to make some explanations explanations said the long man what about jones laughed that sovereign which i put on the table and which i have put back in my pocket i must apologize had i gone away before you returned that would have been left behind to show that your room had been entered neither by a hobo nor about you returned that would have been left behind to show that your room had been entered neither by a hobo nor a

burglar, nor by some cad who had committed an impertinence. Perhaps you will believe that? The long man bowed. But, went on, Jones, by a man who was driven by circumstances to seek hospitality without an invitation. The other had suddenly remembered the ham, and had risen, and was helping himself. His pince-nay which he wore on a ribbon, and evidently only for reading purposes, dangling against his waistcoat buttons.

By circumstance, said he, that is interesting. Circumstance is the master dramatist. Are you interested in the drama? Interested, said Jones. Why, I am a drama. I reckon I'm the biggest drama ever written, and that's why I'm here tonight. Ah, said the other,

this is becoming more interesting still or promising to become for i warn you plainly that what may appear of intense interest to the individual is generally of little interest to the general now a man may let's say commit some little act that the thing we call justice disapproves of and eluding justice finds himself pressed by circumstance into queer and dramatic positions those positions though of momentary and intense interest to the man in question would be of the vaguest interest to the man in the stalls or the girls eating buns in the gallery unless they were connected by that thread of what shall we call it that is the backbone of the thing we call story oh justice isn't bothering after me said jones then vague recollections began to stir in his mind that long glabrous face the set of that jaw that forehead that hair brushed back why you're mr kellerman aren't you said he the other bowed good heavens said jones i ought to have known you i've seen your picture often enough in the states and your cinema plays haven't read your books for i'm not a reading man But I've been fair crazy over your cinema plays." Kellerman bowed.

"'Help yourself to some cheese,' said he. "'It's good. I get it from Fortnham and Masons. When I stepped into this room and saw you here, for the first moment I was going to kick you out. Then I thought I'd have some fun with you and freeze you out. So you're American? You are welcome. But just tell me. me this. Why did you come in? And how? I came in because I am being chased, said Jones.

It's not the law, I reckon I'm an honest citizen, in purpose anyhow, and as to how I came in, I wanted a crust of bread and rang at your hall door. Servants don't sleep here, said Kellerman. Cook snores, bungalow like a fiddle for conveying sounds, come here for sleep and rest they sleep at a cottage down the road so said jones well getting no reply i looked in at the window saw the supper and came in that's just the sort of thing that might occur in a photo play said colorman when i saw you as i stepped in sitting quietly at supper the situation struck me at once you call that a situation said jones it's bald to some of the situations i have been in for the last god knows how long you interest me said kellerman helping himself to cheese you talk with such entire conviction of the value of your goods how do you mean the value of my goods your situations if you like the term better don't you know that good situations if you like the term better don't you know that good situation are rarer than diamonds and more valuable?

Have you ever read Pickwick? Yep. Then you can guess what I mean. Situations don't occur in real life. They have to be dug for in the diamond fields of the mind, and... Situations don't occur in real life, said Jones. Don't they?

Now, see here. I've had supper with you, and in return for your hospitality, I'll tell you, everything that's happened to me if you'll hear it. I guess I'll shatter your illusions. I'll give you a sample. I belong to the London Senior Conservative Club, and yet I don't. I have the swellest house in London, yet it doesn't belong to me. I'm worth one million and eight thousand pounds, yet the other day I had to steal a few sovereigns, but the law could not touch me for stealing them. I have an

uncle who is a duke, yet I am no relation to him. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? All the same, it's fact. I don't mind telling you the whole thing, if you care to hear it. I won't give you the right names, because there's a woman in the case, but I'll bet I'll lift your hair. Kellerman did not seem elated. I don't mind listening to your story, said he, on one condition. "'What's that?'

"'That you will not be offended if I switch you off, "'if the thing pauls and hand you your hat, "'for I must tell you that, though I came down here to get sleep, "'I do most of my sleeping between two in the morning and noon. "'I work at night, and I had intended working to-night.' "'Oh, you can switch me off when you like,' said Jones. "'Supper being finished, Kellerman, fastened the window, and carrying the lamp, led the way to a comfortably furnished study.

Here he produced cigars and put a little kettle on a spirit stove to make tea. Then, sitting opposite to his host, in a comfortable armchair, Jones began his story. He had told his infernal story so often that one might have fancied it a painful effort, even to begin. It was not. he had now an audience in touch with him. He suppressed names, or rather altered them, substituting Manchester for Rochester,

and Birdwood for Birdbrook. The audience did not care. It wrecked nothing of titles. It wanted story, and it got it. At about one o'clock, the recital was interrupted whilst tea was made. At two o'clock, or a little after, the tale finished. well said jones Kellerman was leaning back in his chair with eyes half closed he seemed calculating something in his head do you believe me kellerman opened his eyes of course i believe you if you had invented all that you would be clever enough to know what your invention is worth and not handed out to a stranger

but i doubt whether any one else will believe you however that is your affair you have given me five reels of the finest stuff or at least the material for it and if i ever care to use it i will fix you up a contract giving you twenty-five per cent royalties but there's one thing you haven't given me the denouement i'm more than interested in that i'm not thinking of money i'm a film actor at heart and i want a help in the play say may i help how come along with you to the end give all the assistance in my power or even without that just watch the show i want to see the last act for i'm blessed if i'm blessed if i'm blessed if i'm I can imagine it. I'd rather not, said Jones. You might get to know the real names of the people I'm dealing with. And as there is a woman in the business, I don't feel I ought to give her name away, even to you.

No, I reckon I'll pull through alone. But if you'll give me a sofa to sleep on tonight, I'd be grateful. Then I can get away in the morning. Kellerman did not press the point. i'll give you better than a sofa he said there's a spare bed and you'd better not start in the morning give them time to cool down then towards evening you can make a dash the servants here are all right they'll think you are a friend run down from town to see me i'll arrange all that end of chapter twenty seven recording by roger maline chapter twenty eight of the man who who lost himself this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter twenty eight pebble marsh at five o'clock next day jones redressed by kellerman in a morning coat rather the worse for wear a coat that had been left behind at the bungalow by one of kellerman's friends and a dark cloth cap

took his departure from the bungalow his appearance was frankly abominable but quite distinct from the appearance of a man dressed in a gray flannel tennis coat and wearing a panama and that was the main point kellerman had also worked up a history and personality for the newly attired one you are mr isaacson said he here's the card of a mr isaacson who called some time ago put it in your pocket i will write you a couple of fake letters to back the card you are in the watch trade pebblemarsh is the nearest town only five miles down the road there's a station there but you'd better avoid that there's a garage you could get a car to london if they nail you scream like an excited jew produce your credentials and if the worst comes to the worst refer to me and come back here i would never come back here i would not be able to you scream like an excited jew produce your credentials and if the worst comes to the worst refer to me and come back here i would love that interview country policeman lunatic asylum man mr isaacson highly excited and myself he sat down to write the fake letters addressed to mr isaacson by his uncle julius goldberg and his partner marcus cohen as he wrote he talked over his shoulder on the subject of disguises alleging that the only really impenetrable disguise was that of a nigger minstrel you see all black faces are pretty much the same said he their predominant expression is black but i haven't got the fixings nor the colored pants and things to say nothing of a banjo so i reckon you'll just have to be mr isaicson and you may thank the god of the hebrews i haven't made you an old clothes man watches are respectable here are your letters they are short but credible have you enough money

lots said jones and i don't know in the least how to thank you for what you have done i'd have been had sure wearing that hat and coat well maybe we'll meet again they parted at the gate the hunted one taking the white dusty road in the direction of pebble marsh kellerman watching till a bend hit him from view kellerman had in some mysterious way added a touch of the footlights to this business this confounded kellerman who thought in terms of reels and situations had managed to inspire jones with the feeling that he was moving on the screen and that any moment the hedgerows might give up an army of pursuers to the delight of a hidden audience however the hedge-rose of the pebblemarsh road gave up nothing but the odors of briar and woodbine nothing pursued him but the twitter of birds and the songs of larks above the summer drowsy fields there is nothing much better to live in the memory than a real old english country road on a perfect summer afternoon no pleasanter companion pebble marsh is a town of some four thousand souls it possesses a dye factory it once possessed the only really good trout stream in this part of the country with the inevitable result for in england when a really good trout stream is discovered a dye factory is always erected upon its banks pebblemarsh now only possesses a dye factory the main street runs north and south and as jones passed up it he might have fancied himself in sandbourne or northbourne so much alike are these three towns

half way up and opposite the post-office an archway disclosed itself with above it the magic word garage he entered the place there were no signs of cars nothing of a movable description in that yard with the exception of a stout man in leggings and shirt-sleeves who seeing the stranger came forward to receive him have you a car asked jones they're all out except a ford said the stout man did you want to go for a drive no i want to run up to london in a hurry what's the mileage from here we reckon it sixty-three miles from here to london that is to say the old kent road that's near enough said jones what's the price a shilling a mile will take you and a sixpence a mile for the car coming coming back. What's the total? The proprietor figured in his head for a moment. Four, fifteen, and six, said he. I'll take the car, said Jones, and I'll pay you now. Can I have it at once? The proprietor went to a door and opened it. Jim, cried he. Are you there? Gentleman wants the Ford taken to London. Get her out and get yourself.

ready. He turned to Jones. She'll be ready inside ten minutes if that'll do. That'll do, said Jones, and here's the money. He produced the shammie leather bag, paid the five sovereigns, and received five and sixpence change, and also a receipt which he put in his pocket. Then Jim appeared, an inconspicuous-looking man, wriggling into a driving coat that had seen better days. The Ford was taken from its den, the tires examined, and the petrol tank filled. "'Haven't you an overcoat?' asked the proprietor. "'It'll be chilly after sundown.' "'No,' said Jones. "'I came down without one. The weather was so fine. It won't hurt.' "'Better have a coat,' said the proprietor. "'I'll lend you one. Jim will fetch it back.'

went off and returned with a heavy coat on his arm. "'That's good of you,' said Jones. "'Thanks. I'll put it on now to save trouble.' Then a bright idea struck him. "'What I'm afraid of most is my eyes. The wind tries them. "'Have you any goggles?' "'I believe there's an old pair in the office,' said the proprietor. "'Hold on a minute.'

He went off and returned with the goggles. jones thanked em put them on and got into the car pleasant journey to you said the proprietor then they started they turned up the street and along the road by which jones had come then they struck into the road where the luknaws and khanpours hinted of old indian colonels they passed the gates of the hoover establishment it was open and an attendant was gazing up and down the street he looked at the car but he did not recognize the occupant then several more residential roads were left behind a highly respectable cemetery a tin chapel and the car taking a hill as fords know how dropped sanborn on sea to invisibility and surrounded itself with vast stretches of green and sun-worned country june sent it and hazy with the warmth of summer they passed hop gardens and hamlets broad meadows and grazing cattle bosky woods and park lands jones though he had taken the goggles off saw little of the beauty around him he was recognizing facts and asking questions of himself if hoover or the police were to call at the garage what would happen knowing the route of the car could they telegraph to towns on the way and have him arrested how did the english law stand as regards escaped gentlemen with hallucinations could they be arrested like criminals surely not and yet as regards the law who could be sure of anything

jim the speechless driver could tell him nothing on these points towards dusk they reached a fairly big town and in the very center of the main street jim stopped the car to light the headlamps a policeman passing on his beat paused to inspect the operation and then moved on and the car resumed its way driving into a world of twilight and scented hedges where the glow-worms were lighting up and over which the sky was showing a silvery sprinkle of stars two more towns they passed unhindered and then came the fringe of london a maze of lights and ways and houses tram lines and then an endless road half road half street lines of shops lines of old houses and semi-gardens jim turned in his seat this here's the kent road said he we're about the middle of it which part did you want this will do said jones pull her up he got out took the four and sixpence from his pocket and gave jim two shillings for a tip going all the way back to-night asked he as he wriggled out of the coat and handed it over with the goggles no said jim i'll stop at the last public we passed for the night. There ain't no use overtax in a car. Well, good night to you, said Jones. He watched the car turning and vanishing.

Then, with a feeling of freedom he had never before experienced, he pushed on Londonwards. With only two and sixpence in his pocket, he would have to wander about all night, or sit on the embankment. He had several times seen the outcasts on the embankment seats, at night and pitied them. He did not pity them now. They were free men and women. The wind had died away, and the night was sultry, much pleasanter out of doors than in, a general term that did not apply to the old Kent Road. The old road leading down to Kent was once, no doubt, a pleasant enough place, but pleasure had long forsaken it, and cleanliness. It was here that David Copperfield sold his jacket,

and the old clotheers' shops are so antiquated that any of them might have been the scene of the purchase. Tonight the old Kent Road was swarming, and the further Jones advanced towards the river, the thicker seemed the throng. At a flaring public-house, and for the price of a shilling, he obtained enough food in the way of sausages and mashed potatoes to satisfy his hunger.

A half-pint tankard of beer completed the satisfaction of his inner man, and having bought a couple of packets of navy-cut cigarettes and a box of matches, he left the place and pursued his way towards the river. He had exactly ten pence in his pocket, and he fell to thinking as he walked, of the extraordinary monetary fluctuations

he had experienced in this city of London. At the Savoy that fatal day he had less than ten pounds. Next morning, though robbed as a lord, he had only a penny. The penny had been reduced to a half-penny by the purchase of a newspaper. The half-penny swelled to five pounds by Rochester's gift. The five pounds sprang in five minutes to eight thousand, owing to voles, the eight thousand to a million eight thousand owing to mulhausen sims and cavendish had stripped him of his last cent the smithers affair had given him five pounds now he had only tenpence and to-morrow at nine o'clock he would have eight thousand it will be noted that he did not consider that eight thousand his till it was safe in his pocket in the form of notes

He had learned by bitter experience to put his trust in nothing but the tangible. He reached the river and the great bridge that spans it here, and on the bridge he paused, leaning his elbow on the parapet and looking downstream. The waning moon had risen, painting the water with silver. Barge lights and the lights of tugs and police boats showed points of orange and dribbles of ruffled gold. Whilst away downstream to the right, the airy fairy tracery of the houses of Parliament fretted the sky. It was a nocturn after the heart of Whistler,

and Jones, as he gazed at it, felt for the first time the magic of this wonderful half-revealed city with its million yellow eyes. He passed on, crossing to the right bank, and found the strand. here in a bar and for the price of a half a pint of beer he sat for some twenty minutes watching the customers and killing time then with his worldly wealth reduced to eightpence he wandered off westward passing the savoy and pausing for a moment to peek down the great archway at the gaily lit hotel at midnight he had gravitated to the embankment and found a seat not over crowded. He fell in with a gentleman, derelict like himself, a free-spoken individual, whose conversation whiled away an hour. End of Chapter 28. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 29 of The Man Who Lost Himself

This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. The Man Who Lost Himself by H. Devere. Stackpool Chapter 29 The Blighted City Said the person after a request for a match, Warm night, but there's a change in the weather coming on, or I'm greatly mistaken. I've lost nearly everything in the chops and changes of life,

but there's one thing I haven't lost, my barometer. That's to say my rheumatism. It tells me when rain is coming as sure is an aneroid. london is pretty full for the time of year don't you think yes said jones i reckon it is they talked the gentleman with the barometer passing from the weather to politics from politics to high finance from high finance to himself he had been a solicitor disbarred as you see for nothing but what a hundred men are doing at the present moment there's no justice in the world except maybe in the law courts i'm not one of those who think the law is an ass no there's a great deal of common sense in the law of england i'm not talking of the incorporated law society that shut me out from a living for a slip any man might make i'm talking of the old laws of england as administrative by his majesty's judges.

Study them, and you will be astonished at their straight, common sense, and justice. I'm not holding any brief for lawyers. I'm frank, you see. The business of lawyers is to wriggle round and circumvent the truth, to muddy evidence, confuse witnesses, and undue justice. I'm just talking of the laws. Do you know anything of the laws of lunacy? asked Jones.

Something. I had a friend who was supposed to be suffering from mind trouble. Two doctors doped him and put him away in an asylum. He was quite harmless. What do you mean by doped him? asked the other. Gave him a drug to quiet him, and then took him off in an automobile. Was there money involved?

You may say there was. He was worth a million. anyone to benefit by his being put away well i expect one might make a case of that the family would have the handling of the million wouldn't they it all depends but there's one thing certain there'd be a thundering law case for any clever solicitor to handle if the plaintiff were not too far gone in his mind to plead anyhow the drugging is out of order whole thing sounds sounds fishy. Suppose he escaped, said Jones. Could they take him back by force? That's a difficult question to answer. If he were cutting up shines, it would be easy, but if he were clever enough to pretend to be sane, it might be difficult. You see, he would have to be arrested. No man can go up and seize another man in the street and say,

you're mad, come along with me, simply because even if he holds a certificate of lunacy against the other man, the other man might say you've made a mistake. I'm not the person you want. Then it would be a question of swearing before a magistrate. The good old laws of England are very strict about the freedom of the body and the rights of the individual man to be heard in his own defense. If your lunatic were not too insane and were to take refuge in a friend's house, and the friend were to back him, that would make things more difficult still. If he were to take refuge in his own house? Oh, that would make the things still more difficult, very much more so. If, of course, he were not conducting himself in a manner detrimental to the public peace,

firing guns out of windows and so forth. The laws of England are very strict about entering a man's house. Of course, were the pursuers to go before a magistrate and swear that the pursued were a dangerous lunatic, then a right of search and entry might be obtained, but on the pursuers would lie the onus of proof. Now pauper lunatics are very easily dealt with. the relieving officer on the strength of a certificate of lunacy can go to the poor man's cottage or tenement and take him away for you see the man possessing no property it is supposed that no man is interested in his internment

but once introduced the property element and there is the very devil to pay especially in cases where the lunatic is only eccentric and does not come into court with straws in his hair so to speak i get you said jones he offered cigarettes and presently the communicative one departed having borrowed fourpence on the strength of his professional advice the rest of that night was a very good imitation of a nightmare jones tried several different seats in succession and managed to do a good deal of walking dawn found him on london bridge watching the birth of another perfect day but without enthusiasm. He was cheerful, but tired. The thought that at nine o'clock or thereabouts he would be able to place his hands on eight thousand pounds gave him the material for his cheerfulness.

He had often read of the joy of open-air life and the freedom of the hobo, but open-air life in London, on looking back upon it, did not appeal to him. He had been twice moved on, by policemen and his next-door neighbors, after the departure of the barometer man, were of a type that inspired neither liking nor trust. He heard Big Ben booming six o'clock.

He had three hours still before him, and he determined to take it out in walking. He would go citywards and then come back with an appetite for breakfast. Having made this resolve, he started, passing through the deserted store. till he reached the bank, and then onwards till he reached the mile-end road. As he walked, he made plans. When he had drawn his money, he would breakfast at a restaurant. He fixed upon Romano's. Eggs and bacon and sausages, coffee and hot rolls would be the menu.

Then he fell to wondering whether Romano's would be open for breakfast, or whether it was of the type of restaurant that only serves luncheons and dinners. If it were, then he would breakfast at the Charing Cross Hotel. These considerations led him a good distance on his way. Then the mile end road beguiled him, lying straight and foreign-looking and empty in the sunlight. The barometer man's weather apparatus must have been at fault, for in all the sky there was not a cloud, nor the symptom of the coming of a cloud. Away down near the docks,

a clock over a public house pointed to half-past seven, and he judged at time to return. He came back. The mile-end road was still deserted. The city round the bank was destitute of life. Fleet Street, empty. Pompeii lay not more utterly dead

than this weird city of vast business palaces, and the Strand shows, nothing of life, or almost nothing. Every shop was shuttered, though now it was close upon nine o'clock. Something had happened to London. Some blight had fallen on the inhabitants. Death seemed everywhere, not seen but hinted at. Stray recollections of weird stories by H. G. Wells passed through the mind of Jones. He recalled the city of London when the Martians had done with it, that city of death and horror and sunlight and silence. Then, of a sudden, as he neared the law courts, the appalling truth suddenly suggested itself

to him. He walked up to a policeman on point of duty at a corner, a policeman who seemed under the mesmerism of the general gloom and blight, a policeman who might have been the blue concrete core of negation. officer said jones what day is today sunday said the policeman end of chapter twenty nine recording by roger chapter thirty of the man who lost himself this libravox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter thirty a just man angered when things are piled one on top of another beyond a certain height they generally come down with a crash that one word sunday was the last straw for jones sweeping away breakfast bank and everything coming on top of the events of the last twenty-four hours it brought his mental complacency to ruin ruin from which shot blazing jets of wrath

red rage filled him he had been made game of every man and everything was against him well he would bite he would strike he would attack careless of everything heedless of everything a mesmerized-looking taxi cab crawling along on the opposite side of the way fortunately caught his eye i'll make hay cried jones as he rushed across the street he stopped the cab ten a carlton house terrace he cried to the driver he got in and shut the door with a bang he got out at carlton house terrace ran up the steps of ten a-a and rang the bell The door was opened by the man who had helped to eject Spicer. He did not seem in the least surprised to see Jones. Pay that taxi, said Jones. Yes, my lord, replied the flunky. Jones turned to the breakfast room.

The faint smell of coffee met him at the door as he opened it. There were no servants in the room, only a woman quietly breakfasting with the life of St. Thomas. a campus by her plate. It was Venetia Birdbrook. She half rose from her chair when she saw Jones. He shut the door. The sight of Venetia acted upon him almost as badly as the word Sunday had done. "'What are you doing here?' said he. "'I know. You and that lot had me tucked away in a lunatic asylum. Now you have taken possession of the house.' Venetia was quite calm.

"'Since the house is not yours,' said she, "'I fail to see how my presence here affects you. "'We know the truth. "'Dr. Sims has arrived at the conclusion "'that your confession was at least based on truth. "'That you are what you proclaimed yourself to be, "'a man named Jones. "'We thought you were mad.

"'We see now that you are an imposter. "'Kindly leave this house.' or I will call for a policeman. Jones's mind lost all its fire. Hatred can cool as well as in flame, and he hated Venetia and all her belongings, including her dowager mother and her uncle the Duke, with a hatred well based on reason and fact.

All his fear of mind disturbance, should he go on playing the part of Rochester, had vanished. The fires of tribulation had purged them away. I don't know what you're talking about, said he. Do you mean that joke I played on you all? I am the Earl of Rochester. This is my house, and I request you to leave it.

Don't speak. I know what you are going to say. You and your family will do this and you will do that. You will do nothing. Even if I were an imposter, you would dare to do nothing. your family washing is far far too much soiled to expose it in public if i were an impostor who can say i have not played an honorable game i have recovered valuable property did i touch it and take it away did i expose to the public an affair that would have caused a scandal you will do nothing and you know it you did not even dare to tell the servants here what has happened for the servant who let me in was not a bit surprised now if you have finished your breakfast will you kindly leave my house venicia rose and took up her book your house said she yes my house my house yes my house

house. From this day forth, my house. But that is not all. Tomorrow I will get lawyers to work, and I'll get apologies as big as houses from the whole lot of you. Else I'll prosecute. He was getting angry. Prosecute you for doping me. Recollections of the barometer man's advice came to him. Doping me in order to lay your hands on that million of money. he went to the bell and rang it we want no scene before the servants said venicia hurriedly then kindly go said jones or you will have a perfect panorama before the servants a servant entered send church here said jones he was trembling like a furious dog he had got the whole situation in hand he had told his tale and his tale and his tale and he had told his tale and and acted like an honorable man the fools had disbelieved him and doped him they had scented the truth but they dared do nothing mullhausen and the recovered mine the plinleiman letters rochester's past all these were his bastions to say nothing of rochester's suicide the fear of publicity held them in a vice even were they to go to america and prove that a man called

jones exactly like the earl of rochester had lived in philadelphia go to the savoy and prove that a man exactly like the earl of rochester had lived there produced the clothes he had come home in that night all of that would lead them where to an action at law they could not arrest him as an impostor till they had proved him an impostor to prove that they would have to turn the family history inside out before a gaping public. Mr. Church came in. Church, said Jones, I played a practical joke on my people. I met a man called Jones at the Savoy. Well, we needn't go into details.

He was very like me, and I told my people for a joke that I was Jones. The fools thought I was mad. They called in two doctors, and drugged me and hauled me off to a place. I got out, and here I am back. What do you think of that? Well, my lord, said Church,

if I may say it to you, those practical jokes are dangerous things to play. Lord Langwathby... Was he here? He came here last night, my lord, to have a personal explanation about a telegram, he said you sent him as a... practical joke some time ago, taking him up to Cumberland.

I'll never play another, said Jones. Tell them to bring me some breakfast, and look here, Church. I've told my sister to leave the house at once. I want no more of her here. See that her luggage is taken down at once. Yes, my lord. And see here, Church, let no one in. Lord Langwathby, or any.

anyone else i want a little piece by the way have a taxi sent for and tell me when my sister's luggage is down in the middle of breakfast church came in to say that miss birdbrook was departing and jones came into the hall to verify the fact venicia had brought a crocodile skin traveling bag and a trunk these were being conveyed to a taxi not one word did she say to relieve her outraged feelings the fear of a scene before the servants kept her quiet end of chapter thirty recording by roger maline chapter thirty one of the man who lost himself this livervox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool chapter thirty one he finds himself that evening at nine o'clock jones sat in the smoking-room writing he had trusted church with an important mission on the upshot of which his whole future depended if you will review his story as he himself was reviewing it now you will see that despite a strong will and a mind quick to act the freedom of his will had always been hampered by circumstance circumstance from the first had determined that he should be a lord i leave it to philosophers to determine what circumstance is i can only say that from a fair knowledge of life circumstance seems to me more than a fortuitous happening of things who does not know the man of integrity and ability the man destined for the presidency or the college chair who remains in an office

all his life. Luck is somehow against him. Or the man who, starting in life with everything against him, arrives, not by creeping, but by leaps and bounds. I do not wish to cast a shade on individual effort. I only say this. If you ever find circumstance, whose other name is fortune, feeling for you in order to make you a lord,

don't kick. For when fortune takes an interest in a man, she is cunning as a woman. She is a woman, in fact. At half-past nine, a knock came to the door. It was opened by Church, who ushered in Teresa, Countess of Rochester.

Jones rose from his chair. Church shut the door, and they found themselves alone and face to face. The girl did not sit down. she stood holding the back of a chair and looking at the man before her. She looked scared, dazed, like a person suddenly awakened from sleep in a strange place. Jones knew at once. You have guessed the truth, said he, that I am not your husband.

I knew it, she replied, when you told us in the drawing-room. The others thought you mad. I knew you were speaking the truth. That was why you ran from the room. Yes. What more have you to say? I have a very great deal more to say. Will you not sit down?

She sat down on the edge of a chair, folded her hand, and continued looking at him with that scared, hunted expression. I want to say just this, said Jones. Right through this business from the very very start, I have tried to play a straight game. I can guess from your face that you fear me as if I were something horrible. I don't blame you. I ask you to listen to me. Your husband took advantage of two facts. The fact that I am his twin image, as he called it, and the fact that I was

temporarily without money and stranded in London. I am not a drunkard, but that night I came under the influence of strong drink. He took advantage of that to send me home as himself. I am going to say a nasty thing. That was not the action of a gentleman. The girl winced. Never, went on, Jones. Would I say things against a man who is dead? Yet I am forced to tell you the truth, so that you may see this man as he was. Wait! He went to the bureau and took out some people. papers. He handed her one. She read the contents. "'Stick to it, if you can. You'll see why I couldn't.'

"'Rochester. That is your husband's handwriting?' "'Yes.' "'Now, think for a moment of his act as regards yourself. He sent me, a stranger, home, never thinking a thought about you.' her breath choked back as for me went on jones from the very first moment i saw you i have thought of you and your welfare i told my story for your sake so that things might be cleared up and they put me in an asylum for my pains i escaped i am here and for your sake i am saying all this does it give me pleasure to show you your husband's character her. I would sooner cut off my right hand, but that would not help you. You have got to know, else I cannot possibly get out of this.

Read these, he handed her the Plin-Lyman letters. She read them carefully. Whilst she was doing so, he sat down and waited. "'These were written two years ago,' said she, in a sad voice, as she folded them together. A year after we were married! It was the tone of her voice that did it. As she handed the letters back to him,

she saw that his eyes were filled with tears. He put them back in the bureau without a word. He felt that he had struck the innocent again, and most cruelly. Then he came back to the chair in which he had been sitting and stood holding its back. you see how we are both placed said he to prove your husband's death all my business would have to be raked up i don't mind because i have acted straight but you would mind

the fact of his suicide the fact of his sending me home everything that would hit you again and again yet look at your position i do not know what we are to do if i go away and go back to the states i leave you before the world as the wife of a man still living who has deserted you if i stay and go on being the earl of rochester you are tied to a phantom he paced the floor head down wrestling with an insoluble problem while she sat looking at him which is the easiest for you to do asked she oh me said he i'm not thinking of myself back to the states of course but that's out of the question there are lots of easy things to do but when my case comes in contact with yours there's nothing easy to do do you think it was easy for me to go off that night and leave you waiting for me feeling that you thought me a skunk no that was not easy she had been sitting very calm and still up till now then suddenly she looked down she burst into tears oh she cried why were you not him if he had only been you he cared nothing for me yet i loved him you you you i care for nothing at all but you said he she shuddered all over and turned her head away that's the mischief of it as far as i am concerned he went on i can't escape without injuring you and so myself yet i don't wonder at your hating me

she turned her face to him it was flushed and wet i do not hate you said she you are the only man i ever met unselfish no he said i'm selfish it's just because i love you that i think of you more than myself and i love you because you are good and sweet i could not do you wrong just because of that if you were another woman i would not bother about you i'd be cruel enough i reckon and go off and leave you tied up and get back to the states but you are you and that's my bother i did not know till now how i was tied to you yesterday at that asylum place and all last night i did not think of you my one thought was to get away i came here to-day driven by want of money i was so angry with the whole business i determined to go on being rochester then you came into my mind and i sent church to ask you to come and see me much good it is done i don't know she said he looked at her quickly her glance fell next moment he was beside her kneeling and holding her hand for a moment they said not one word then he spoke as though answering questions we can get married oh i don't mind going on being the earl of rochester there were times when i thought i'd go crack but now you know the truth i reckon i can go on pretending

people can have the marriage ceremony performed twice of course it would have to be private i can't think this is true i don't believe you can ever care for me i don't know maybe you will do you care for me-for myself in the least i reckon i'm half mad but say when did you begin to like me for myself was it only just because you thought i was unselfish was it if i like you at all she said with a little catch in her voice perhaps it was that night what night the night you struck the russian but you thought i was him then perhaps said she dreamily but i thought it was unlawful but i thought it was him then perhaps said she dreamily but i thought it was unlike him do you understand i don't know i understand nothing but that i have got you to care for always to worship to lay myself down for you to trample on good night said she at last she was standing preparing to go the family know the truth at least they are sure of the truth but as you say they can do nothing imagine their feelings when i tell them what we have agreed on with me on your side they are absolutely helpless there is fortunately enough no law preventing two married people being remarried privately the good old lawyers of england considering no doubt that a man having gone through the ceremony once would think it enough all this that i have been telling you happened some years ago

years marked by some very practical and brilliant speeches in the house of lords and the death of the hon venetia birdbrook from liver complaint it is a queer story but not queerer than the face of the dowager countess of rochester when she reads in private all the nice complimentary things that the papers have to say about her son end of chapter thirty one end of the man who lost himself by h de vere stackpool