The peddler seemed untroubled. “In a way, I was told to,” he broke off, and regarded Perkins with absolute composure. “What change is there now?”
“The desk was in the other corner,” she said faintly, “and facing the window, and this screen was on the other side of the fireplace opposite the sofa.” She got this out with a quick look at Martin in which she seemed to expect his approval and almost thanks.
“Then any one sitting at the desk would naturally see out of the window but would not notice the door without turning?” put in Derrick sharply.
“Yes, sir, it was like that.”
“Well, Blunt, does all this take you anywhere?”
The peddler came a shade nearer the desk. His eyes were now half closed, and his dark features had smoothed out till they were strangely inexpressive. He might have been under the influence of a dream. The silence began to throb, and over Beech Lodge crept the touch of the mysterious East. None moved, for in that moment the jade god asserted his domination. The air seemed to palpitate, tremulous with unseen vibrations, and a whisper of wind drifted from the puttering fire. Then Blunt began to speak in a sort of half-chant without color or inflection, his voice sounding thin and clear and distant and carrying with it a nameless note of authority.
“I see far away a picture of a place, large and poorly lighted. Strange people are there, moving without sound, and strange smells are in the air. Around it there are many trees, and when one comes that way a whisper runs ahead through the forest, telling of his coming. I see a man not unlike this one”—here the peddler made a gesture at the portrait—“but dressed otherwise and with his skin dark like that of the quiet people. He has journeyed from across the sea, drawn there he knows not why, and saying nothing of the purpose of his journey, because he himself did not know it. Traveling slowly, and taking at times many false trails, he comes at last to this place, and, staying not long, goes away by night, but not empty-handed. Behind him he leaves sorrow and a great anger and fear.”
The voice trailed out uncertainly, and a shudder ran through the peddler’s body. His whole figure was now swaying, and his head moved with a slow rhythmic motion.
“Go on,” said Derrick tensely.
“Not far from this place there is another man, and to him many call as with one voice, and a burden is laid upon him, and after a little while he is not seen there any more. Meantime the first man has returned to his own land and the faces he knew best, and tried to shake off the memories of what he had done and that distant place. But he could not do this. Time went on, and always in his dreams he returned there and could not forget. The thing he had taken was his master. At first when he wanted it, he thought he loved it, and then learned it was not love but fear. It was a thing of power, and stronger than himself. Mystery was in it, and thereby it was able to give tongues to that which could not otherwise speak. It was a tongue for the dumb.”