Gordon strove to raise a protesting hand. "Damn it, Herman," he cried, "it's harder than I thought. You're the only man I ever cared a straw for; I suppose that's the reason. But I've got to tell you. I've gone the limit. I was the man that killed Harry Palmer."
Vanulm half recoiled, then made as if to rise, but again Gordon shook his head. "No, no," he said, "it isn't fever; I'm as sane as you are; I wanted money; I tried to blackmail him; drugged him, and made him believe he'd ruined a girl; bled him for a hundred thousand; and then, by the devil's own luck, the thing leaked out. Then it was my life against his, and he was fool enough not to see it. I got my chance out on the island, and I shot him, and threw his body into the quicksand over by the point. That same night I killed the woman who told him, and that's how I got my start. Then came the time about the Konahassett—the Ethel, they called it then—and I couldn't come to terms with Mason; he was honest—and stubborn—and that left only one way. I killed him, and to make things sure, I killed the only woman that ever really cared for me, and married Mason's daughter—" he smiled sneeringly—"the young woman you thought so charming, and who tired of me when she thought my money was gone. To make the thing safe, I had to get the murders saddled on a poor old drunk out there; that never troubled me much, though; he was only a pawn in the game. So I got the mine. And since then, as you probably know, I've been fooling the people right and left—the people that have trusted me; all my stock market letters were fakes; all my battle with the moneyed interests was a sham—I've been hand in glove with them, from the start. My politics have been rotten, right through; I've bought, bribed, corrupted, betrayed, and yet they've followed me like sheep; if I'd have lived, I'd have been president of this country; deals; combinations; God, how, I had things lined up; and now I'm through; I've had my turn at the game; I'm through; and we're counting up the score."
As he spoke, a curious light had come into his eyes; slowly the color had crept back into his sunken cheeks; even his voice had taken on something of its old, commanding ring. Fascinated, Vanulm gazed at him without speaking, and the dying man, almost as if in a state of exaltation, went on: "I've played square with myself, Herman; square all the way through; and I'm not afraid, now. It's been a fair game. I've seen what I wanted, and I've taken it. Money? I've made my fortune. Twenty million dollars, Herman; no more, no less; and I could have doubled it, trebled it, in ten years more. And everything it could buy; I've gratified every wish of man; God, Herman, I've lived a dozen lives in one. Power? I've made history in the market; I've changed a state in politics; five years more, and I'd have changed the destiny of the country. Success? There isn't a man alive that's accomplished more. Every one's envied me, looked up to me, tried to copy me, even. And the preachers say a man is nothing; it's a lie, Herman; a man's a god; man is God; I've played the game through, and I know. Herman, get that doctor; I won't die; I can't die; I tell you I'll be president yet. Great God, Herman—"
The light faded from his countenance as it had come; from his pallid face the tide of life ebbed again; his eyes closed like a tired child's; then, in an instant, he opened them again, and gazed at Vanulm with an expression that the latter had never seen before.
"Good old Herman," he muttered drowsily, "I knew he'd come. Off my head a minute, I guess. Feverish, maybe; that night did it, that night it rained—"
He stopped, with an expression of complete bewilderment; once, twice and thrice he gazed around the unfamiliar room; then drew a long sigh, as if at last awakened from sleep.
"Herman," he said quietly, "God knows what rot I've been talking. I'm pretty near gone; I know it; but whether I go off wandering again or not, I'm sane now; as sane as you are; do you believe me?"
Vanulm nodded silently. It took no eye of experience, indeed, to see that the sands of life were running low.
"There's something more you want to say?" he asked, with sudden intuition.