Weapons of Mystery written by Joseph Hocking
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Joseph Hocking >> Weapons of Mystery
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12 POPULAR NOVELS
BY
JOSEPH HOCKING
* * * * *
THE STORY OF ANDREW FAIRFAX
JABEZ EASTERBROOK
ALL MEN ARE LIARS
FIELDS OF FAIR RENOWN
WEAPONS OF MYSTERY
THE PURPLE ROBE
THE SCARLET WOMAN
THE BIRTHRIGHT
MISTRESS NANCY MOLESWORTH
LEST WE FORGET
GREATER LOVE
THE COMING OF THE KING
ROGER TREWINION
THE PRINCE OF THIS WORLD
GOD AND MAMMON
AN ENEMY HATH DONE THIS
THE RING OF DESTINY
HEARTSEASE
THE TENANT OF CROMLECH COTTAGE
NANCY TREVANION'S LEGACY
THE SIGN OF THE TRIANGLE
The Weapons of Mystery
by Joseph Hocking
AUTHOR OF "ALL MEN ARE LIARS", "THE PURPLE ROBE", "THE SCARLET WOMAN", ETC.
WARD. LOCK & CO., LIMITED
LONDON AND MELBOURNE
_Made and Printed in Great Britain by_ Ward, Lock & Co., Limited, London.
1890
CONTENTS
Chap.
I. INTRODUCES THE WRITER AND OTHERS
II. CHRISTMAS EVE
III. CHRISTMAS MORNING
IV. VOLTAIRE'S STORY OF THE EAST
V. CHRISTMAS NIGHT--THE FORGING OF THE CHAIN
VI. AFTERWARDS
VII. DREARWATER POND
VIII. DARKNESS AND LIGHT
IX. THE HALL GHOST
X. THE COMING OF THE NIGHT
XI. DARK DREAMS AND NIGHT SHADOWS
XII. A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE
XIII. A MESMERIST'S SPELL
XIV. GOD
XV. BEGINNING TO SEARCH
XVI. STRUGGLING FOR VICTORY
XVII. USING THE ENEMY'S WEAPONS
XVIII. NEARING THE END
XIX. THE SECOND CHRISTMAS EVE
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCES THE WRITER AND OTHERS
My story begins on the morning of December 18, 18--, while sitting at
breakfast. Let it be understood before we go further that I was a
bachelor living in lodgings. I had been left an orphan just before I
came of age, and was thus cast upon the world at a time when it is
extremely dangerous for young men to be alone. Especially was it so in
my case, owing to the fact that at twenty-one I inherited a considerable
fortune. One thing saved me from ruin, viz. a passionate love for
literature, which led me to make it my profession. I had at the time of
my story been following the bent of my inclinations for two years with a
fair amount of success, and was regarded by those who knew me as a lucky
fellow. That is all I think I need say concerning myself prior to the
time when my story opens, except to tell my name; but that will drop out
very soon. I had not made very great inroads into the omelette my
landlady had prepared for me when I heard the postman's knock, and soon
after a servant entered with a letter. One only. I had expected at least
half-a-dozen, but only one lay on the tray before me.
"Are you sure this is all, Jane?" I asked.
"Quite sure, sir," said Jane, smiling, and then with a curtsey she took
her leave.
The envelope was addressed in a bold hand-writing to--
_Justin M. Blake, Esq.,
Gower Street,
London, W._
"Surely I know the writing," I mused, and then began to look at the
postmarks as if a letter were something of very uncommon occurrence. I
could make nothing of the illegible smear in the corner, however, and so
opened it, and read as follows:--
Dear old Justin Martyr,
I suppose you have about forgotten your old schoolfellow, Tom Temple,
and it's natural you should; but he has not forgotten you. You see, you
have risen to fame, and I have remained in obscurity. Ah well, such is
the fate of that community called 'country gentlemen.' But this is not
what I want to write about, and I am going straight to the real object
of this letter.
We--that is, mother, the girls, and myself--are contemplating a real
jolly Christmas. We are inviting a few friends to spend Christmas and
New Year with us, and we wish you to make one of the number. Will you
come and spend a fortnight or so at Temple Hall? Of course it is rather
quiet here, but we are going to do our best to make it more lively than
usual. The weather looks frosty, and that promises skating. We have a
few good horses, so that we can have some rides across the country.
There is also plenty of shooting, hunting, etc., etc. Altogether, if you
will come and help us; we can promise a fairly good bill of fare. What
do you say? You must excuse me for writing in this unconventional
strain, but I can't write otherwise to my old schoolfellow.
We shall all be really disappointed if you say 'no,' so write at once
and tell us you will come, also when we may expect you. All the news
when we meet.
Your sincere friend,
Tom Temple.
P.S.--I might say that most of the guests will arrive on Christmas Eve.
"Just the very thing," I exclaimed. "I had been wondering what to do and
where to go this Christmas time, and this invitation comes in
splendidly."
Tom Temple lived in Yorkshire, at a fine old country house some distance
from the metropolis of that county, and was a really good fellow. As for
his mother and sisters, I knew but little about them, but I judged from
the letters his mother wrote him when at school, that she must be a
true, kind-hearted, motherly woman.
I accordingly turned to my desk, wrote to Tom, telling him to expect me
on the 24th inst., and then, without finishing my breakfast, endeavoured
to go on with my work. It was very difficult, however. My thoughts were
ever running away to Yorkshire, and on the pleasant time I hoped to
spend. Between the lines on my paper I was ever seeing the old baronial
hall that was Tom Temple's home, and the people who had been invited to
spend the festive season there. Presently I began to chide myself for my
foolishness. Why should the thoughts of a Christmas holiday so unfit me,
a staid old bachelor of thirty, for my usual work? Nevertheless it did,
so I put on my overcoat, and went away in the direction of Hyde Park in
order, if possible, to dispel my fancies. I did dispel them, and shortly
afterwards returned to my lodgings, and did a good morning's work.
Nothing of importance happened between the 18th and the 24th, and early
in the afternoon of the latter date I found my way to St. Pancras
Station, and booked for the station nearest Tom Temple's home. Although
it was Christmas Eve, I found an empty first-class carriage, and soon
comfortably ensconced myself therein. I don't know why, but we English
people generally try to get an empty carriage, and feel annoyed when
some one comes in to share our possession. I, like the rest of my
countrymen are apt to do in such a case, began to hope I might retain
the entire use of the carriage, at least to Leeds, when the door opened,
and a porter brought a number of wraps and shawls, evidently the
property of a lady.
"Bother it!" I mentally exclaimed, "and so I suppose I am to have some
fidgety old women for my travelling companions."
The reader will imagine from this that I was not a lady's man. At any
rate, such was the case. I had lived my thirty years without ever being
in love; indeed, I had from principle avoided the society of ladies,
that is, when they were of the flirtable or marriageable kind.
No sooner had the porter laid the articles mentioned on a corner seat,
the one farthest away from me, than their owner entered, and my
irritation vanished. It was a young lady under the ordinary size, and,
from what I could see of her, possessed of more than ordinary beauty.
Her skin was dark and clear, her eyes very dark, her mouth pleasant yet
decided, her chin square and determined. This latter feature would in
the eyes of many destroy her pretensions to beauty, but I, who liked
persons with a will of their own, admired the firm resoluteness the
feature indicated.
She took no notice of me, but quietly arranged her belongings as if she
were accustomed to take care of herself. She had only just sat down,
when she was followed by another lady, who appeared, from the sign of
recognition that passed between them, an acquaintance.
Evidently, however, the younger lady was not delighted at the advent of
the elder. A look of annoyance swept across her face, as if she could
have very comfortably excused her presence. I did not wonder at it. This
second comer was a woman of about fifty-five years of age. She had
yellow wrinkled skin, a square upright forehead, shaggy grey eyebrows,
beneath which, in two cavernous sockets, were two black beady-looking
eyes. Her mouth was large and coarse, and, to make that feature still
more objectionable, two large teeth, like two fangs, stuck out at a
considerable angle from her upper jaw and rested on the lower lip.
Altogether the face was repulsive. Added to this, she was tall and bony,
and would have passed anywhere for one of the witches of olden time.
"I have altered my mind, Gertrude, and am going with you." This was said
in a harsh, thick voice.
"I see you are here, Miss Staggles," said the younger lady very coolly.
"I did not intend coming at first, but your aunt, poor silly thing, said
you would not take your maid with you, and so I thought it would be a
sin for a young girl like you to travel alone to Yorkshire on a day like
this."
"Yorkshire?" I thought. "Is that old woman to be in this carriage with
me for five or six long hours? I'll get out."
I was too late; at that moment the guard's whistle blew, and the train
moved slowly out of the station. At all events, I had to remain until
the train stopped, so I composed myself as well as I could, and resolved
to make the best of it. Neither of them paid the slightest attention to
me. The elder lady sat bolt upright opposite the younger, and began to
harangue her.
"Don't you know it was very foolish of you to think of coming alone?"
"No," said the younger lady; "I'm tired of having a maid dogging my
every footstep, as if I were a child and unable to do for myself."
"Nevertheless, Gertrude, you should have brought her; no young lady
should travel alone. However, you will have a chaperon, so the
deficiency will be more than remedied;" and there was grim satisfaction
in the woman's voice.
There was no satisfaction in the young lady's face, however, and she
turned with what I thought an angry look towards the scrawny duenna, who
had claimed guardianship over her, and said----
"But, Miss Staggles, you are in a false position. You have received no
invitation."
"No, I have not; but your aunt had one, poor silly creature, and so, for
duty's sake, I am breaking the rules of etiquette. Those fine people you
are about to visit did not think it worth their while to invite your
aunt's late husband's step-sister--perhaps because she is poor; but she
has a soul above formalities, and so determined to come and take care of
her niece."
The young lady made no reply.
"You will be thankful, Gertrude Forrest, some day that I do care for
you," Miss Staggles continued, "although I never expect to get any
reward for my kindness."
By this time the train was going rapidly, and so loud was the roar it
made that I heard only the growling of Miss Staggles' voice without
distinguishing any words. Indeed, I was very glad I could not. It was by
no means pleasant to have to sit and listen to her hoarse voice, so I
pulled down the laps of my travelling cap over my ears and, closing my
eyes, began to think who Gertrude Forrest was, and where she was going.
I did not change carriages as I intended. Miss Staggles got tired after
awhile, and so there was relief in that quarter, while my seat was most
comfortable, and I did not want to be disturbed. Hour after hour passed
by, until night came on; then the wind blew colder, and I began to
wonder how soon the journey would end, when the collector came to take
all the tickets from the Leeds passengers. Shortly after we arrived at
the Midland station, for which I was truly thankful. I did not wait
there long; a train stood at another platform, which stopped at a
station some two miles from Tom Temple's home. By this time there was
every evidence of the holiday season. The train was crowded, and I was
glad to get in at all, unmindful of comfort.
What had become of my two travelling companions I was not aware, but
concluded that they would be staying at Leeds, as they had given up
their tickets at the collecting station. I cannot but admit, however,
that I was somewhat anxious as to the destination of Gertrude Forrest,
for certainly she had made an impression upon me I was not likely to
forget. Still I gave up the idea of ever seeing her again, and tried to
think of the visit I was about to pay.
Arrived at the station, I saw Tom Temple, who gave me a hearty welcome,
after which he said, "Justin, my boy, do you want to be introduced to
some ladies at present?"
"A thousand times no," I replied. "Let's wait till we get to Temple
Hall."
"Then, in that case, you will have to go home in a cab. I retained one
for you, knowing your dislike to the fair sex; for, of course, they will
have to go in the carriage, and I must go with them. Stay, though. I'll
go and speak to them, and get them all safe in the carriage, and then,
as there will be barely room for me, I'll come back and ride home with
you."
He rushed away as he spoke, and in a few minutes came back again. "I am
sorry those ladies had to be made rather uncomfortable, but guests have
been arriving all the day, and thus things are a bit upset. There are
five people in yon carriage; three came from the north, and two from the
south. The northern train has been in nearly half-an-hour, so the three
had to wait for the two. Well, I think I've made them comfortable, so I
don't mind so much."
"You're a capital host, Tom," I said.
"Am I, Justin? Well, I hope I am to you, for I have been really longing
for you to come, and I want you to have a jolly time."
"I'm sure I shall," I replied.
"Well, I hope so; only you don't care for ladies' society, and I'm
afraid I shall have to be away from you a good bit."
"Naturally you will, old fellow. You see, you are master of the hall,
and will have to look after the comfort of all the guests."
"Oh, as to that, mother will do all that's necessary; but I--that is--"
and Tom stopped.
"Any particular guest, Tom?" I asked.
"Yes, there is, Justin. I don't mind telling you, but I'm in love, and I
want to settle the matter this Christmas. She's an angel of a girl, and
I'm in hopes that--Well, I don't believe she hates me."
"Good, Tom. And her name?"
"Her name," said Tom slowly, "is Edith Gray."
I gave a sigh of relief. I could not help it--why I could not tell; and
yet I trembled lest he should mention another name.
We reached Temple Hall in due time, where I was kindly welcomed by Mrs.
Temple and her two daughters. The former was just the kind of lady I had
pictured her, while the daughters gave promise of following in the
footsteps of their kind-hearted mother.
Tom took me to my room, and then, looking at his watch, said, "Make
haste, old fellow. Dinner has been postponed on account of you late
arrivals, but it will be ready in half-an-hour."
I was not long over my toilet, and soon after hearing the first dinner
bell I wended my way to the drawing-room, wondering who and what kind of
people I should meet, but was not prepared for the surprises that
awaited me.
CHAPTER II
CHRISTMAS EVE
Just before I reached the drawing-room door, Mrs. Temple came up and
took me by the arm.
"We are all going to be very unceremonious, Mr. Blake," she said, "and I
shall expect my son's friend to make himself perfectly at home."
I thanked her heartily, for I began to feel a little strange.
We entered the drawing-room together, where I found a number of people
had gathered. They were mostly young, although I saw one or two
ancient-looking dames, who, I supposed, had come to take care of their
daughters.
"I am going to introduce you to everybody," continued the old lady, "for
this is to be a family gathering, and we must all know each other. I
know I may not be acting according to the present usages of society, but
that does not trouble me a little bit."
Accordingly, with the utmost good taste, she introduced me to a number
of the people who had been invited.
I need make no special mention of most of them. Some of the young ladies
simpered, others were frank, some were fairly good looking, while others
were otherwise, and that is about all that could be said. None had
sufficient individuality to make a distinct impression upon me. The
young men were about on a par with the young ladies. Some lisped and
were affected, some were natural and manly; and I began to think that,
as far as the people were concerned, the Christmas gathering would be a
somewhat tame affair.
This thought had scarcely entered my mind when two men entered the room,
who were certainly not of the ordinary type, and will need a few words
of description; for both were destined, as my story will show, to have
considerable influence over my life.
I will try to describe the more striking of the two first.
He was a young man. Not more than thirty-five. He was fairly tall, well
built, and had evidently enjoyed the education and advantages of a man
of wealth. His hair was black as the raven's wings, and was brushed in a
heavy mass horizontally across his forehead. His eyes were of a colour
that did not accord with his black hair and swarthy complexion. They
were of an extremely light grey, and were tinted with a kind of green.
They were placed very close together, and, the bridge of the nose being
narrow, they appeared sometimes as if only one eye looked upon you. The
mouth was well cut, the lips rather thin, which often parted, revealing
a set of pearly white teeth. There was something positively fascinating
about the mouth, and yet it betrayed malignity--cruelty. He was
perfectly self-possessed, stood straight, and had a soldier-like
bearing. I instinctively felt that this was a man of power, one who
would endeavour to make his will law. His movements were perfectly
graceful, and from the flutter among the young ladies when he entered, I
judged he had already spent some little time with them, and made no
slight impression.
His companion was much smaller, and even darker than he was. His every
feature indicated that he was not an Englishman. With small wiry limbs,
black, restless, furtive eyes, rusty black hair, and a somewhat
unhealthy colour in his face, he formed a great contrast to the man I
have just tried to describe. I did not like him. He seemed to carry a
hundred secrets around with him, and each one a deadly weapon he would
some day use against any who might offend him. He, too, gave you the
idea of power, but it was the power of a subordinate.
Instinctively I felt that I should have more to do with these men than
with the rest of the company present.
Although I have used a page of good paper in describing them, I was only
a very few seconds in seeing and realizing what I have written.
Both walked up to us, and both smiled on Mrs. Temple, whereupon she
introduced them. The first had a peculiar name; at least, so it seemed
to me.
"Mr. Herod Voltaire--Mr. Justin Blake," she said; and instantly we were
looking into each other's eyes, I feeling a strange kind of shiver pass
through me.
The name of the smaller man was simply that of an Egyptian, "Aba Wady
Kaffar." The guests called him Mr. Kaffar, and thus made it as much
English as possible.
Scarcely had the formalities of introduction been gone through between
the Egyptian and myself, when my eyes were drawn to the door, which was
again opening. Do what I would I could not repress a start, for, to my
surprise, I saw my travelling companions enter with Miss
Temple--Gertrude Forrest looking more charming and more beautiful than
ever, and beside her Miss Staggles, tall, gaunt, and more forbidding
than when in the railway carriage.
It is no use denying the fact, for my secret must sooner or later drop
out. My heart began to throb wildly, while my brain seemed on fire. I
began to picture myself in conversation with her, and becoming
acquainted with her, when I accidentally looked at Herod Voltaire. His
eyes were fixed on Miss Forrest, as if held by a magnet, and I fancied I
saw a faint colour tinge his cheek.
What I am now going to write may appear foolish and unreal, especially
when you remember that I was thirty years of age, but the moment I saw
his ardent, admiring gaze, I felt madly jealous.
The second dinner bell rang, and so, mechanically offering my arm to a
lady who had, I thought, been neglected on account of her plain looks, I
followed the guests to the dining-room.
Nothing happened there worth recording. We had an old-fashioned English
dinner, and that is about all I can remember, except that the table
looked exceedingly nice. I don't think there was much talking; evidently
the guests were as yet strangers to each other, and were only gradually
wearing away the restraint that naturally existed. I could not see Miss
Gertrude Forrest, for she was sitting on my side of the table, but I
could see the peculiar eyes of Herod Voltaire constantly looking at some
one nearly opposite him, while he scarcely touched the various dishes
that were placed on the table.
Presently dinner came to an end. The ladies retired to the drawing-room,
while the gentlemen prepared to sit over their wine. Being an abstainer,
I asked leave to retire with the ladies. I did this for two reasons
besides my principles of abstinence. First, I thought the custom a
foolish one, as well as being harmful; and, second, I hoped by entering
the drawing-room early, I might have a chance to speak to Miss Forrest.
I did not leave alone. Two young Englishmen also declared themselves to
be abstainers, and wanted to go with me, while Herod Voltaire likewise
asked leave to abide by the rules he had ever followed in the countries
in which he had lived.
Of course there was some laughing demur among those who enjoyed their
after-dinner wine, but we followed the bent of our inclination, and
found our way to the drawing-room.
Evidently the ladies were not sorry to see us, for a look of pleasure
and surprise greeted us, and soon the conversation became general.
Presently, however, our attention was by degrees drawn to that part of
the room where Herod Voltaire sat, and I heard him speaking fluently and
smoothly on some subject he was discussing with a young lady.
"Yes, Miss Emery," he said, "I think European education is poor, is
one-sided. Take, for example, the ordinary English education, and what
does it amount to? Arithmetic, and sometimes a little mathematics,
reading, writing, French, sometimes German, and of course music and
dancing. Nearly all are educated in one groove, until there is in the
English mind an amount of sameness that becomes monotonous."
"You are speaking of the education of ladies, Mr. Voltaire?" said Miss
Emery.
"Yes, more particularly, although there is but little more variation
among the men. Take your University degrees--your Cambridge and Oxford
Master of Arts, for example; what a poor affair it is! I have been
looking over the subjects of examination, and what are they? A couple of
languages, the literature of two or three countries, mathematics, and
something else which I have forgotten now."
"You are scarcely correct, sir," said one of the young men who came in
with me. "I happen to have passed through Cambridge, and have taken the
degree you mention. I found it stiff enough."
"Not so stiff, when it can be taken at your age," replied Voltaire.
"But, admitting what you say, you are all cast in the same mould. You
study the same subjects, and thus what one of you knows, all know."
"And what may be your ideas concerning education?" said Miss Forrest.
Herod Voltaire turned and looked admiringly on her, and I saw that a
blush tinged both their cheeks.
"My ideas are such as would not find much favour in ordinary English
circles," he said smilingly. "But I should do away with much of the
nonsense of ordinary English education, and deal with the more occult
sciences."
"Pardon me, but I do not quite understand you."
"I will endeavour to make my meaning plain. There are subjects relating
to the human body, mind, and soul, which cannot be said to have been
really studied at all, except by some recluse here and there, who is
generally considered mad. You deal with the things which are seen, but
think not of the great unsolved spiritual problems of life. For example,
the effect of mind upon mind, animal magnetism, mesmerism, biology, and
kindred subjects are unknown to you. The secrets of mind and spirit are
left unnoticed by you Western people. You seek not to solve the occult
truths which exist in the spirit of all men. You shudder at the problem
of what you call death, and fancy nothing can be known of the spirit
which leaves the world in which you live; whereas there is no such thing
as death. The spirits of the so-called dead are living forces all around
us, who can tell their condition to those who understand some of the
secrets of spiritualism. Nay, more than that. There are occult laws of
the soul which, if understood by some powerful mind, can be made to
explain some of the deepest mysteries of the universe. For example, a
man versed in the secrets of the spirit life can cause the soul of any
human being to leave its clay tenement, and go to the world of spirits,
and learn its secrets; and by the powers of his soul life, which can be
a thousand times strengthened by means of a knowledge of the forces at
the command of all, he can summon it back to the body again. Of course I
can only hint at these things here, as only the initiated can understand
these secret laws; but these are the things I would have studied, and
thus lift the life of man beyond his poor material surroundings." By
this time the drawing-room was pretty well full. Nearly all the men had
left their wine, and all were listening intently to what Voltaire was
saying.
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