The Assassins Club by Gillette Burgess. Every time I see a gargoyle, said
Astro, I feel a thrill of secret kinship. It's as if I were
the only one who understood its mystery. If I were romantic, I would
say that in a previous incarnation I had lived in the dark ages. What
do you think about gargoyle'spelesca? Astro looked up from a book of Violette Laduke's
architectural drawings and glanced across to the pretty blonde head. His assistant, busy
with her card catalog where she kept memoranda of the seer's famous cases, made
a delightful picture against the dull crimson hangings of the wall. She came over
to him and looked down across his shoulder at the pictures of the grotesque stone
monsters. Why, she said, I've seen those horrible, cynical old ones
on Notre Dame in Paris that gazed down on the city roofs. I've always
wondered why they placed them on beautiful churches. It's a deep question, said
Astro, his eyes still on the engraving. But to my mind they symbolized
the ancient cult of wonder. In the Middle Ages, men really wondered.
They didn't anticipate flying machines years before they were invented, as we moderns do.
They took nothing for granted. Everything in life was a miracle. Boleska
dropped quietly into a seat to listen. Astro had many moods. Sometimes he
was the dreamy, occult seer, cryptic, mysterious. Again he was the
alert man of affairs, keen, logical, worldly. She had seen him
too in society, affable, bland, jocose. But in this introspective,
whimsical, analytic mood she got nearest him and learned something of the true import
of his life. He went on his eyes half closed, his red silken
robe enveloping him like a shroud, the diamond in his turban glittering as he
moved his head. His olive skinned, picturesque face, with its dark eyes,
was serene and quiet. Now, a little blue tailed lizard, one
of Astro's many exotic fancies, frisked across the table. He caught it and
held it as he talked. In the thirteenth century, clergy and laity alike
believed that the forces of good and evil were almost equally balanced. They worshiped
the Almighty, but propitiated Satan as well. So these grotesque beasts leered down
from the cornices of the House of God and watched the holy offices of priests.
The devil had his own litany, his own science. They were forbidden
practices, but they flourished then among the most intellectual people, as they flourished
now among the most ignorant. Magic was then a science, Now it is
a fake. Still. A man's chief desires to get something for nothing,
to find a short cut to wisdom. The gargoyle is replaced by the dollar
mark. So be it, one must earn one's living. Selah, I
have spoken. He looked up with a smile and a boyish twinkle in his
eyes. Then his business like, cynical self returned. He jumped up,
tall and eager, a picturesque Oriental figure informed with the stirring life of the
West. Valesca. I've been reading about the devil worshipers of Paris, the
Black Mass, infant sacrifices, and all that that's in a ENaC grenistic cult.
I'd like to know if there really is any genuine survival of the worship
of evil. Boleska shuddered. Oh, that would be horrible, but interesting.
He clasped his hands behind him and gazed up at the silver starred ceiling.
I don't mean degeneracy or insanity, but a man that does evil for
the love of it, as they did in the old days. Think,
for instance, of the lost art of torture, the science of human suffering.
Oh don't I hate to have you talk like that? Boleska put a
hand on his arm. Very well, I won't. He snapped his fingers
as if to rid himself of the thought, and walked into the reception room
adjoining the great studio. Bileska went back to her work for some minutes.
She arranged her cards in their tin box, and hearing voices outside, she
looked up and listened. Then she walked up, softly, across the heavy
rugs, and, touching a button in the mahogany wainscotting, passed through a
secret door. Scarcely had she disappeared when Astro returned, ushering in a young
woman stylishly dressed in brown. When she put aside her veil, her face
shone out like a portrait, vivid instinct, with grace and a delicate,
rare high bred beauty, full of character and force. Astro showed her a
seat under the electric lamp. I thought you would help me, if any
one could, she was saying, in continuation of her conversation in the reception
room. If it were anything less vague, I'd speak to mother about it.
But it's too strange and elusive. I'm sure he has not been drinking.
I would notice that in other ways. And yet he is different,
he is not himself. It frightens me. Have you spoken to him about
it? Astro asked, yes, But he won't say anything. He evades
it and says he's all right. But I don't dare to marry him till
I know what it is that has changed him. I know it seems disloyal
to suspect him, but how can I help it? What is mister Cameron's
business. He's a naval lieutenant in the construction department at the Brooklyn Navy Yard,
and that is another reason why I'm worried. He has charge of work
that is important and secret. If this change, whatever it is, should
affect his work, he'd be disgraced. He might even be dishonorably discharged.
When have you noticed this peculiarity of his at any particular time, usually on
Sundays, when he almost always comes to call, but sometimes in the middle
of the week. At times he talks queerly, almost as if in his
sleep, of and queer landscapes that have nothing to do with what we are
discussing. Sometimes he doesn't even finish his sentences and goes off into a sort
of days for a minute, and then he'll ask my pardon, and go
on as if nothing had happened. And when shall you see him next?
He will probably come Saturday afternoon. Usually he stays to dinner, but of
late he has been having engagements that prevent all right, said the seer,
I'll see what I can do. Knowing that he is at your house,
I shall be able to orient myself and thereby be more receptive to his astral
influence. I shall then be able to ascertain the cause of any psychic disservance.
The young woman, rising to go looked at him plaintively. Oh,
I hope I haven't done wrong in telling you about it. But I do
love him, so I can't bear to see him so changed. My dear
miss Mannering, said astro kindly, you need have no fear. I assure
you your business shall be kept absolutely confidential, with the exception of my assistant.
No one shall ever know that you came here. Your assistant, She
looked at him doubtfully, Miss Wynn, she seemed surprised. A lady,
she asked, then timidly, might I see her? Certainly? Astro touched
a bell. In a moment, Veleska appeared between the velvet portiere and waited
there, her piquant, sensitive face questioning his wish. Her golden hair brightly
illuminated from behind. Miss Mannering walked to her impulsively and took her hand.
Might I speak to you for a moment, she asked. Velleska, giving
Astro a glance, led the visitor into the reception room. I had no
idea that Astro had a lady assistant, she said. I feel much better
about having told him now. Veleska smiled at her and held the hand in
both hers. Oh, I only do some of his routine works, she
said, but he often discusses his important cases with me. I'm sure that
he can help you. He is wonderful. I never knew him to fail,
Miss Wynn, said the visitor. No one but a woman can understand
how distressed I am. I'm sure I can trust you. I can read
that in your face. I am always sure of my intuitions, and now
that I have seen you, I'm going to tell you something that I didn't
quite dare to tell Astro. I know my fiancee is in some trouble,
but what I'm afraid of is too dreadful. It terrifies me. Here,
look at this. It dropped out of mister Cameron's pocket the last time he
called, and I found it after he had gone. She handed an envelope
to Vealeska, who looked at it carefully and drew out a single sheet of
paper on This was rich and in green ink be at the Assassin's Saturday at
seven, Haskell's turn. What can that mean? Miss Mannering whispered, I
didn't dare to show it for fear of getting Bob into trouble in some way.
That word assassin's. Oh it's awful. May I take this letter,
Bleska asked, No, I daren't leave it. Mister Cameron may miss it
and ask for it, but you may tell Astro if you think best.
Bleska gave another glance at the letter. And handed it back. My dear,
miss Mannering, don't worry about it, she said, pressing her hand.
It may not be so bad as you fear. Whatever it is,
Astro will find it out, you may be sure. When the visitor had
departed, Bleska walked into the studio with the news. Astro listened in silence
till she had finished. Then he smiled, nodded, and took up his
water pipe lazily. The solution of this thing is so simple that I'm surprised
it hasn't occurred to you, my dear, But that's because of your lack
of experience and the fact that you haven't read so much as I have.
But all the same, there may be something deeper in it than appears now.
At any rate, the girl is to be helped, and the lieutenant
as well, and that we shall do. But what about the assassins,
Velleska inquired anxiously. Oh that's the whole thing, of course. But I
think I'll let you study that out yourself. It will be good practice for
your reasoning powers. First, let's see if your powers of observation have improved.
Tell me all about the letter. He blew out a series of smoke
rings and regarded her quizzically well. Velleska puckered her brows. It was written
on buff laid linen paper of about ninety pounds weight, very heavy stock anyway,
in an envelope of the same marked Madison Square station April nineteenth, four
p m. The handwriting was that of a stout, middle aged man who
had just had some serious illness, A foreigner, hard working, unscrupulous,
dishonest, with no artistic sensibility. Bravo is that all? No, the
stationery came from Perkins and Shawls. I saw the stamping under the flap very
good. Unfortunately we can't ask there about the assassins, but perhaps will find
my ideal criminal. After all, the easiest plan will be to follow Cameron
tomorrow night. Meanwhile, you had better do some thinking yourself. Bulesca sat
down and gazed long into the great open fire, her brows frowning, her
hands working mechanically absorbed in thought. Astro took a small folding chessboarding gatray amused
himself with an intricate problem in the logistics of the game. When at last
he had queened his white pawn according to his theory, he looked over at
his assistant and smiled to see her seriousness. In that look, something seemed
to pass from him to her. Oh, she cried, jumping up.
Does it begin with an H, more properly with a cea, he replied.
She shook her head and went at the problem again, and kept at
it until it was time to close the studio. The next afternoon, Astro
and Veleska waited for two hours across seventy eighth Street from Miss Mannering's house before
they saw the lieutenant emerge. They had already a good description of him and
had no trouble in recognizing the tall, good looking fellow, who, at
half past six o'clock walked briskly up the street, ran down the stairs to
the subway, and took a seat in a downtown local train. Astro and
Veleska separated and took seats on the opposite side of the car, watching their
man guardedly. At twenty third Street, he got out, went up to
the sidewalk, and walked eastward. Beyond Fourth Avenue was a row of three
story old fashioned brick houses. Back from the street. The lieutenant entered the
small iron gate to one of the yards, and taking a key from his
pocket went in the front door of a house. It slammed behind him,
the headquarters of the assassins, said Astro, calmly, his hands in his
overcoat pockets, studying the windows. And what next, asked Bleska. We'll
wait, awhile, come into this next doorway. On the side of the
doorway they now entered was a sign furnished rooms. It was now after seven
o'clock and had begun to snow. Veleska stood inside the vestibule, protected from
the weather. Astro waited just outside, watching the doorway of number one O
nine. The twenty third street cars clang noisily by the din of the traffic,
muffled by the carpet of snow. The open mouth of the subway sucked
in an unsteady stream of wayferrors. Suddenly, Velleska put her hand on Astro's
arm. Does it begin with C O, she asked. He smiled,
No, c A, he answered, Oh, dear, I thought I
had it, but don't tell me. I'm sure I'll work it out,
though, but it makes me anxious. Anything might happen on a night like
this, Yes, even an assassination. You don't fear that, really,
She looked at him in alarm. But I do assassination of a sort.
What else could the letter mean? She had not time to answer before the
door of the next house opened and a man buttoned up in a fur trimmed
overcoat came out. He stopped a moment to raise an umbrella, and they
could see that he was a stout, pasty faced German of some fifty years,
with a curling yellow mustache. He wore spectacles and seemed to be near
sighted. There's the man who wrote the letter. Follow him, Veleska.
Find out who he is, and all it's possible, we must follow every
lead. Veleeska was off on the instant, running down the steps and walking
swiftly up twenty third Street. Astro lighted a cigar, turned up his collar,
and waited another half hour in the doorway, nobody having entered or left
number one O nine. By that time he rang the bell of number one
eleven. A sweetish maid came to the door. I'd like to see what
rooms you have, said Astro. The only one is on the third floor
rear, she replied, and showed him up two flights of unlighted stairs,
steep and narrow to a small square room meagerly furnished. Walking to the window,
Astro saw that level with the floor was a tin covered roof over an
extension in the rear. It stretched along the whole width of the four houses
in the row. On this he might easily stand and look into the adjoining
windows. Saying that he would move in later, Astro paid the girl for
a week's rent in advance, and left the house and walked home. Veleska
next morning came full of news. The German kept right along twenty third Street,
toward Broadway, she said, and it occurred to me that I might
get him to make the first advances and get acquainted without being suspected. So
I passed him, and very gracefully slipped on snow and dropped my purse.
Then I began looking about on the sidewalk for the money that might have dropped
out. My German friend came along and offered to help me. It took
some time, and the long and short of it was that we had quite
a conversation, and I convinced him that I was respectable. He walked along
with me and asked me where I was going. I said that I had
intended going to the hippodrome with a friend, but that I had been detained
and it was so late I thought i'd go home. He proposed having something
to eat, and of course I refused. I had to be urged and
urged. But the more I refused, the more anxious he was to have
me come. Finally, I reluctantly assented to his invitation, and we went
to the cafe. Riche well, you ought to have seen that German eat.
I mean you ought to have heard him eat. I couldn't eat anything
myself, but sipped the wine he ordered, and coyly led him on,
chattering away about myself ingenuously. I had an engagement with Richard Mansfield and three
years contracted one hundred dollars a week. When he died and was awfully anxious
to get another chance, all the money I had was tied up in one
of the trust companies, and so on. He kept on eating, taking
the biggest mouthfuls I ever saw, and leaving half of it on his mustache.
Oh, I put in some hard work, I assure you. Then
he began asking me questions and wanted to know if I would like to earn
some money on the side, would I I jumped at it. Five thousand
actor folk out of a job this season, you know, and all that.
He said, I reminded him of his dead daughter. You know,
I'm always reminding people of somebody, and he thought he could trust me.
I cast down my eyes and let him go on. He said there was
a man he knew who has stolen some confidential papers and he wanted to get
them away from him without publicity. He needed a good, clever woman to
help him out on the job. I brightened up considerably. He asked me
to go home with him so that he could give me a photograph to identify
my victim. I said I would, although I confess I was getting nervous,
not being quite sure what he was up to. He had begun paying
me compliments, and when a German begins to get sentimental, well you know.
I took the subway with him and we went up to one hundred and
twenty sixth Street. There was a big apartment hotel there called the Dahlia,
one of those marble halled affairs that look as if they were built of a
dozen different kinds of fancy soap, with a red carpet and awfully funny oil
paintings and Negro hall boys sitting in Renaissance arm chairs. I refused to go
upstairs. Well, after a while he came down the elevator and handed me
this photograph. What do you think? She handed Astro a cabinet photograph.
He lifted his fine brows when he looked at it. Lieutenant Cameron Veleska nodded.
I'm to scrape up an acquaintance with him, get his confidence, and
then report to Herr Buymer for final instructions. I wonder what poor little miss
Mannering would say. She took off her sables, her saucy fur touch,
and touched up her hair. At the great carved mirror at one end of
the studio, Astro sat regarding the portrait in his hand. He looked up
to ask, did you find out what his business was? She whirled round
to him. Oh, I forgot. He's the agent of a big German
firm connected with the Krupp's steel plant. They control the rights to a new
magazine Pistol. I was awfully interested in machinery. You know, it bored
me to death, but I listened half an hour to his description of a
new ammunition hoist for battleships. Astro was suddenly electrified with energy. Ah,
he exclaimed, You didn't remember that the Crupps stand in with the German government
and have the biggest subsidies and contracts in the world. He wants you to
make up to a construction officer in the United States Navy. Does he He
needs a clever woman, I should say he did. Was her Bimer sober
perfectly as far as I could see, except for his sentimentality. Of course,
he was a bit effusive. You know, Yes, I see it
wasn't his night. It was Haskell's night, whoever Haskell is. But I
think we'll have to hurry. This looks more serious than I thought at first.
I shall sleep at number one eleven East twenty third Street to night.
And meanwhile, I have a nice job of forgery for you. Velleska.
I wish you'd practice copying this writing till you can write a short note that
will pass for Lieutenant Cameron's handwriting. He took a letter from a drawer.
The envelope was addressed to Misviolet Mannering. Velleska took it and read it over
carefully. It was a single sheet torn from a double page, and read
partly as follows. I believe that just as everything seems somehow different at night,
when we can see farther than by day, For can we not see
the stars when our emotions seem freer? So there are two worlds in which
it is possible to exist. One is the dreary, everyday place of business
and duty and pain. The other is free from care or suffering. Don't
we enter that occult world at night through our dreams, where there is no
such thing as conscience. There are no consequences, There no doubt. It's
a dangerous place because it is abnormal, but its exploration is fascinating. Why
ignore the fact that it exists as a refuge from the worries of matter of
fact existence. Veleska read it thoughtfully. Her eyes looked through the paper as
if into a mist beyond no wonder. Poor mismannering is worried, she said
to herself. She looked at Astro as if to ask a question. He
was busy with a planimiter calculating the area of a queer irregular polygon drawn on
a sheet of parchment. Seeing his tense look, she took turned to her
study of the manuscript as soon as it was dark. Astro opened the window
of his room on twenty third Street and walked along the crackling tin roof till
he came to the first window of the house occupied by the assassins. Looking
in, he saw a small, bare hall bedroom furnished with a cot,
a washstand, and one chair. The next two windows were lighted. He
approached them carefully. Three men were seated at a library table strewn with magazines.
All were smoking comfortably. One Astro recognized as the Lieutenant, another as
her Bimer. The third was a yellow faced man with red hair, high
cheek bones, and dark eyes deeply set into his skull. In front of
him was a plate filled with what looked like caviare sandwiches cut small and thin.
Her Bimer said something at which the others laughed loudly, then with a
flourish as if drinking their health. Lieutenant Cameron took one of the sandwiches and
ate it almost with an air of bravado. Bimer looked at his watch,
The lean yellow faced man walked out of the room. The Lieutenant took up
an illustrated paper and began to read. Astro tiptoed carefully back to his room,
put on his overcoat and went downstairs. Walked over to the drug store
and at the telephone booth rang up Velesca. Have you written the letter?
He asked, Not yet was the answer, Well, you must do it
immediately as well as you can. Bring it to number one eleven and ask
for mister Silverman. He then went back to his room. Another stealthy glance
through the windows of the club showed the two still at the table. Cameron
was busy with a pencil and a sheet of paper exploded, leaning something to
the German. The yellow faced man watched them over his book. The lieutenant
was evidently talking with a little difficulty. Every little while he stopped and began
again with an effort. One leg was twitching at the knee joint. He
supported his head heavily on his hand. Going back to his room, Astro
took a bottle of ammonia from his overcoat pocket and placed it on the sink.
Next, he poured a white powder from a paper and dissolved it in
a tumbler of water, stirring it with a spoon. This done, he
took the wash bowl from the stand and put it on the table beside the
bed. Then he sat down to wait for Vealesca. In half an hour
she appeared, breathing hard, her cheeks flushed with her haste. Here it
is, she said, as soon as the maid had left. It's the
best I could do. She handed it over. It read please allow the
bearer to come in and see me on important business. At any time he
may present this Robert Cameron good, said Astro. Now you must wait here
and listen at the window till you hear my whistle. Then come right along
the roof to me and be ready for anything. He started to open the
door when she put a hand on his arm. Does it begin with C
A N, she asked breathlessly. He nodded, How did you get it
from the lieutenant's letter? Of course, Well, it may have begun with
D A N. By this time d A N G E R perhaps be
ready. And he was downstairs. At the door of the Assassin's Club,
A white haired negro answered the bell. Astro presented the letter. I wished
to see Lieutenant Cameron immediately, he said, I don't perxactly know, SA
said the darky ma Oda's is not to leave. Nobody come in. Yah,
I expect ah better say no sa Astra brushed past him and had set
his foot on the stair when a fat face looked down over the balusters.
The portly form of her Bimer followed it. Vat's the matter, he inquired,
as he started down. Without further parley, Astro ran up the stair,
and before there was any time for resistance from the astonished German, grasped
him by the knees, and, pulling his feet from under him, sent
him madly sliding down the stairs. Her Bimer, swearing a polysyllabic oath,
stumbled awkwardly to his feet and set off upstairs again after his attacker, but
by this time Astro was at the top of the second flight. He dashed
into the square room in the rear where he had seen the group of men.
It was empty. Beside it, however, was a small hall bedroom,
and here, in his shirt sleeves, lying in a stupor on the
cot lay Lieutenant Cameron. Astro sprang to the door and locked, just as
the excited German pumped ponderously on the panels. Next, he threw up the
window and whistled, Then, taking the Lieutenant in his arms, he succeeded
in carrying him to the window sill. Boleska was already on the roof outside
waiting for him. Take his feet, said Astro under his breath, and
so together they managed to get the lieutenant out on the roof and to the
window of the chamber in number one eleven. By this time the man had
begun to revive and to protest in word and action against his removal. They
paid no heed to him, however, and bundled him into the room and
on the bed. Then Astro shook him energetically. Wake up, man,
he cried, wake up now, you can if you try here, smell
this. He reached for the ammonia and held it under the lethargic man's nostrils.
The lieutenant turned away, his head, coughed, blinked, and partially
rose on one arm. Who are you, he said, gazing at them
in surprise. Friends of miss mannerings, said Astro. The lieutenant shook his
head and stared, what's the matter, he brought out laboriously. I got
you away from Buymer afraid of trouble. Want to help you, Astro spoke,
very distinctly, as if to a deaf man. The lieutenant felt for
his coat, found himself without one. Seemed puzzled and dropped back again limply.
The draw His voice ended in a mumble. Yes, the drawer.
What drawer, Astro asked, eagerly, find draw The lieutenant seemed to drop
asleep. I wonder what he means. There's something on his mind, No
doubt he has hidden something. Astro looked keenly at the lesca under drawn brows.
Can't you revive him again, she asked, No use trying the ammonia
yet it seems to have too great a reaction and sends him into a deeper
sleep. We'll have to wait till he comes to himself for a moment.
Naturally. You know what it is, now, don't you? She nodded.
And I found it out, curiously, only from the dictionary. I
looked up the word assassin and found that it came from hashashin or hashish eater.
Then I looked up about the old man of the Mountain who used to
drug his followers with bang until they would commit any crime. And that led
me, of course, to cannabis Indica or Indian hemp, and I found
out all about the effects of hashish. Yes, I thought these amateur assassins
were innocent enough only a club to experiment with hasheish, for with a moderate
dose, the sensations are wonderful and well worth trying. But there's more in
this than that. What is Bymer up to? That's what I want to
know. Is he really unconscious now? Veleeska asked, watching the prostrate form
of the lieutenant as he lay, flushed and breathing but otherwise inert. Not
really. He may be dimly aware that we are here, but his will
is gone. He won't speak until he rises to the level of volition again.
It's a sort of double consciousness, a rhythmic process of alternate sinking into
apathy where he sees visions, and rising into full consciousness when he can talk.
For a moment, I wish I knew what dose he had the enter
about three minutes. I tried hasheesh when I was in college, but I
took such an overdose the last time that I have dreaded to use it again.
The lieutenant now began to mutter, as if talking in his sleep.
I'm tottering on the tops of tall pendulums. The world is full of spiralated
mucilages. Lovely color in a tunnel now twisting, turning, violet, green,
orange, floating, floating like a spirit, tops of tropic trees.
Suddenly, he gasped and sat up, staring hard at them. What did
I say? What was it? Quick before I go off again, I
was saying something. Find the drawer, Astro suggested, leaning to him,
draw draw What was it? Drawings? He exclaimed, Blimer wants the drawings,
for God's sake, help me. I'm losing it again. Drawings.
What is it about? Drawings? Where did you put them? Drawings?
Yes, under the mat. His eyes closed, Astro tried again under the
mat in the little room. The lieutenant stared stupidly. I forget, Matt.
That meant something. I can't get it. Wait till I come up
again. All snaky now like live wires, pink and green. Ah.
The rest was inaudible. The moment he had again succumbed to the effects of
the drug, Astro sprang to the window. He paused there to say,
sharply, Buymer is trying to get some of the lieutenant's navy drawings. That's
evident, and has given Cameron a big dose of hashish to keep him quiet
till the papers can be found. I think Cameron must have suspected it and
has hidden the blueprints or whatever they are. I'm going to go through that
bedroom and see if they're under the mat. You wait here. He is
likely to be unconscious for two or three minutes more now, and I'll just
have time with that. He had leaped out on the roof and was off.
The Lieutenant still muttered in a whisper so low that Vealeska could make out
nothing. She went to the window just as astro reappeared. No mat,
nothing but a carpet Buymer must have got away with him. You'll have to
get after him, Veleska while I pull the lieutenant through. If I know
anything about hashish, he's had a terrific dose and is going to have the
worst case of nausea he ever had in his life. I took a look
at those Hasheish sandwiches. They were fairly loaded with the stuff. His first
voyage wasn't a circumstance to the sea. Sickness he'll have in about happen.
You get right out to Bymer's place and see what you can do with him.
As Bleska threw on her furs, the Lieutenant was beginning to rouse again
as She slipped out of the door and ran downstairs. He sat up on
the bed, his eyes glassy, his fists clenched. The effort he was
making to gain possession of his mental faculties was evident in his writhing mouth and
wild, staring eyes. What was it, he demanded. It's all right,
said Astro. Buymer has the drawings, but we'll get them for you.
He turned with a glass of water on the table. The lieutenant clutched
his arm in a fierce grip. God's, he cried, help me.
The papers were secret plans for fire control. Man, it's ruined for me.
You must drink this first of all, Astro replied, holding the glass
to the man's lips. It's an emetic. We must get this hemp out
of your stomach before you can recover. It was too late. The lieutenant
dropped back, now as rigid as a marble statue, only his wild eyes
moving. He spoke painfully through his clenched teeth. Oh God, he murmured,
take it away. I can't drink it. I'm going through hell.
His brow was furrowed with tense lines as he fought with the deathly nausea that
was working in him. Astro put down the glass and waited. It was
evident that nothing could help now, and the drug, which had thoroughly impregnated
the man's system, must work off its own effects. It works so so
fast. All black now, Oh god, I'm afraid, afraid. He
began to moan. You're all right, there's no danger. You're just a
little sick, that's all. I'm dying. It's no use tell Violet I'm
dead, don't you see, man, I'm dall ready. The world is
full of spiralated mucilages. That's the inner secret of death. Spiral. I'm
whirling through space dead. Astro smiled. It was he knew a common symptom
of an overdose of cannabis indica. There was, as he said, no
danger. He waited for the crisis, attending to his patient like a trained
nurse. For a while, the moaning continued. Then Cameron began to curse
wildly, like a man with the delirium tremens. Then of a sudden,
he sat up in bed and the convulsion came. His outraged stomach revolted at
the burden it had to bear. During this, Astro waited on him kindly,
and when the active stage of nausea had passed. He laid the lieutenant
back on the bed and waited till he sank into a natural sleep. Then
he took a small book from his pocket and began to read. For half
an hour, he read the little volume of the Morte d'arteur. For another
half hour, he sat in a brown study, his eyes fixed on the
pattern in the worn carpet. There was a zigzag figure in it, which
resembled the letter M. The lieutenant moaned in his sleep and felt under his
bed mechanically with one hand. Astro's eyes followed him. Then, with his
face suddenly illumined, he rose quietly, threw up the window, and passed
out on the roof. In less than five minutes, he returned with a
smile on his lips. He took up the book again and began reading.
It was after midnight when Vealeska returned. In great disappointment. She took off
her coat and looked sadly at the lieutenant, who was now sleeping peacefully.
It was no use, she said, Her Bim wasn't in, and no
one knew when to expect him. I waited as long as I dared,
for I hated to come back unsuccessful. It was too bad. I was
so stupid as to send you away out there, said Astro quietly. I
should have taken time to think it over first. It came to me an
hour after you had left. Here are the blueprints safe and untouched? Oh,
she exclaimed joyously. Did he tell you where they were after I left?
No? Before you left? Didn't you hear him under the mat?
But I thought you looked and found none there, my dear, said Astro,
with a whimsical expression on his face. You should learn to concentrate,
to focus your subconscious mind upon itself, the psychic state of receptivity. Oh,
bother, Leska exclaimed, Where were they if they weren't under the mat?
Under the mattress? He answered? The lieutenant sat up, now fully
recovered, and looked at the two. Astro handed him the blueprints. He
grasped them exultantly. For a while. He lay weakly looking at them,
saying nothing. Astro put on his overcoat and helped Veleska into her wraps.
Just before he opened the door, he turned and said, I don't think
I need give you any advice, Lieutenant. Go to sleep now and you'll
be all right in the morning. If you have gone through what I did
the last time I was an assassin, there is no danger of your ever
trying it again. I think that Miss Mannering needn't know about this. Certainly
I shall not tell her. What does she know? Did she send you
to help me, the lieutenant asked anxiously. She asked my advice, that's
all. Unfortunately she saw the name assassins. But I think you can explain
that easily enough. If you don't care to confess the truth, how can
I explain it, Cameron said, thoughtfully? Why tell her that the club
meant to kill time, said Astro, and that at that you are a
tolerably successful assassin. End of the Assassin's Club.