Both spoke in a tone of decision, and both had a motive-spring which had yet to be revealed.
"Let us come back to earth," said Dr. Vinsen, "and above all, let us be practical. There are accounts between us which must be settled--pray do not forget that."
"I will not."
"You were at the inquest to-day," said Dr. Vinsen, rather uneasily, for there was a menace in Dr. Pye's tone. "The papers report you fully. Your warning to the jury not to be led away by a resemblance that might be accidental was a masterstroke. It produced a good effect, but will it assist Mr. Reginald Boyd? We shall see--we shall see. Justice is slow. Were you to formulate a code you would make it swifter, surer--eh, my friend?"
"I would make it swift as sudden death to all who stood in my path," said Dr. Pye, and now there was a cold glitter in his eyes as he looked at his visitor.
"No doubt, no doubt, and no feeling of mercy would restrain you; but we cannot break through the meshes. Sentinels stand at every corner, and slow as justice is in these mean streets, of which you have so poor an opinion, its eyes are never closed. It is fortunate for some that it can occasionally be hoodwinked by a master mind, to which" (here he bent his head, half in mockery, half in sincerity) "I pay tribute. That poor woman, Mrs. Abel Death, has had no news of her husband--singular, is it not? Her strange little child Gracie, I regret to say, views me with disfavour. It is some compensation that her mother regards us as her benefactors; and in some respects we deserve to be so regarded. The expenditure of money in that quarter has not been entirely thrown away--not en-tire-ly thrown a-way. It has assisted me to direct public opinion, and to keep watch upon my friend Remington, whom I would like to plunge to the bottom of the Red Sea, to rot with the bones of the Egyptians."
That a man so mild in voice and so bland in manner should break into sudden malignity was surprising.
"He is better where he is," said Dr. Pye; "his living presence is necessary. People shoot wild when there is no target to aim at, and a chance shot might hit the mark."
"Always profound," said Dr. Vinsen, admiringly, "always, always profound. A target--yes, a target. It is a thousand pities, my dear friend, that you are not in all things more practical and less imaginative. Take, for instance, these gewgaws by which you are surrounded, these flasks and vases, these jewelled trifles, this curiously wrought work from some Eastern country--of what avail are they for the true pleasures of life?" Dr. Pye was silent. "You may say, perhaps, they feed the artistic sense. As I believe only in what I see, so do I believe only in what I feel. Better to feed the material senses--far more rational. If what you have presented to my view in your character is genuine, and not the outcome of a deliberate intention to deceive--in-ten-tion to de-ceive--it is composed of singularly contradictory qualities. In a certain sense, unique, for who would expect to find Alnaschar dreams floating among the fleshpots of Egypt? Your taste in wine is not to be excelled--I approve of it; it is a passion you carry to an excess which I consider as ridiculous as it is unwise--still, in the main, I approve of it. Good wine nourishes the tissues, helps to prolong life. Hippocrates and many long-headed ancients have something to say on this head. But these lifeless memorials of a dead past, in which there is no vitality, which are eternally the same, dumb and expressionless----My dear friend, I fear you are not listening."
"My thoughts are elsewhere," said Dr. Pye, rising and approaching the window. Dr. Vinsen followed him, with suspicion and discontent on his face. For the fourth time on this night the room was plunged in darkness; for the fourth time the circular lid of the shutter was drawn aside.