“Thank God! I still had power of soul sufficient to resist, but Lord! how long shall I be enabled to avert that which is seemingly my doom?”
Burton arose and for several minutes walked about the apartment with agitated, nervous tread. Passing before a long mirror that stood between the windows, he stopped suddenly before it, gazed intently at his image reflected there, and cried out:
“The reflection there tells me that I appear to be as other men around me. In stature and features I seem not essentially at variance with the average man I meet, perhaps I am even more comely. What then is it that caused me to fall shamefaced, embarrassed and simpering like a silly school boy, before the scrutiny of that old scholar last night?”
“I hold the Christian faith; I possess more than the ordinary degree of education common in this country; I have acquired proficiency in many accomplishments; I bear the impress of the culture and refinement of this most enlightened century, and yet! and yet!”
“The searching, piercing glance of that old scientist seemed to penetrate some concealing veil and tearing it aside revealed me in my very nakedness; I seemed to stand forth an exposed impostor; I felt myself a self-confessed charlatan, caught in the very act of masquerading in the stolen trappings of my superiors; I became the buffoon in borrowed gown and cap of the philosopher, an object of ridicule and wrath.”
“Before those deep seeing eyes I was no longer self-assured; convicted of mimicking manners foreign to myself, I seemed to cast aside the unavailing, purloined mask and mummery and thus reveal myself a fraud. Seeking safety from the scorn and just resentment of the defrauded I took refuge in pitiful imbecility and silliness.”
“Once before the same experience was mine. In Paris, at the American Ambassador’s reception I met the Liberian minister. As soon as the gigantic black man fastened his gaze upon me, I became disconcerted. When we clasped hands all the feeling of superiority that education gives departed from me, all the refined sentiments created by culture vanished, I could only simper and chuckle like a child over senseless jokes as did the negro giant beside me.”
“On that occasion, fearing to shock and disgust my bride, I stole like a thief from her side and feigning sudden illness begged a friend to take my place as escort of my wife, while as one bereft of reason I raced along the boulevards and buried myself beneath the dark shade of the trees in the Bois de Boulogne, where, capering and shouting madly I danced until, exhausted, I fell to the ground.”