Amos shook his head. “No, sir, it is a room that is lived in. There are other papers lying about: books, and a letter on the desk waiting to be mailed. And in the fireplace the embers are still glowing.”
Mr. Cabot looked with the profoundest sympathy toward his friend, who was scaling bits of moss from the rock beside him; then he turned again to the view and its tranquil beauty seemed a mockery. In the village below them he could see the congregation pouring out from a little white church like ants from a loaf of sugar. Mr. Cabot was not a religious man, and at present there was nothing in his heart that could be mistaken for resignation. His spirit was in revolt, his pugnacity aroused, and with this quality he was freely endowed. Rising to his feet he stood for a moment in silence, with folded arms, frowning upon the distant hills.
“Amos,” he said, finally, “in spite of bygone defeats I am inclined to resist this prophecy of yours. You were not absolutely master of your own mind at the time, and under such conditions nothing would be easier than to confuse your own imagining with a vision of another character. At least it is not impossible, and if by good luck you did happen to confound one with the other we are having our panic for nothing. Moreover, even if this vision is correct, it need not necessarily signify an undeviating fulfilment in every detail. It may indicate the result to be expected in the natural order of events; that is, if things are allowed to take their course without obstruction or intervening influences. But it is difficult for me to believe this faculty is to continue infallible through all your mental and physical developments and fluctuations of faith, and never, under any possible conditions, vary a hair’s-breadth from the truth. It is a law of nature that a disused faculty shall weaken and lose its power, and for years you have done your best to repress and forget it.”
“Yes, sir, but whenever employed it has been correct.”
“That may be, and its day of failure still remain a probability. In this present case the prophecy, aside from its uncertain origin, is one whose fulfilment is more easy to avert than some of the others. You say the room in which you saw yourself is one you are unfamiliar with, and consequently is not in Daleford.”
“Oh, no! There is nothing like it in this vicinity.”
“Well, suppose you were to remain in Daleford during the critical period with two men, nominally visitors at your house, to watch you day and night and see that you do not escape? Or, better still, let me send you to an institution in which I am a director, where you will be confined as a dangerous patient, and where escape, even if you attempted it, would be as hopeless as from a prison.”
Amos doubted the success of any attempt at foiling fate, or, in other words, giving the lie to a revelation once received, but he was willing to do whatever his friend desired. As they walked home they discussed the plan in detail and decided to act upon it; also to take every precaution that Molly should be kept in ignorance.
The first week in October the house at the north end of the avenue was empty and the Cabots were in New York. As the end of the month approached a little tale was invented to explain the cessation for a time of Amos’s visits, and early one afternoon the two men got into a cab and were driven to the outskirts of the city. They entered the grounds of a well-known institution, were received by the superintendent and one or two other officials, then, at the request of the elder visitor, were shown over the entire building and into every room of any size or importance. When this inspection was over Mr. Cabot took his companion aside and asked if he had seen the room they sought. Amos shook his head and replied that no such room could be within the grounds. A few minutes later the young man was shown to a chamber where his trunk had preceded him. The two friends were alone for a moment, and as they separated Amos gave the hand in his own a final pressure, saying: “Don’t think I am weakening, Mr. Cabot, but I cannot help feeling that I have seen Molly for the last time. And if you and I never meet again, you may be sure my last thoughts were with you both.”
In a cheerful tone the lawyer answered: “I shall listen to no such sentiments. If your prophecy is correct you are to be lying in a room outside these grounds on November fourth. No such prophecy can be carried out. And if the prophecy is incorrect we shall meet for several years yet. So good-by, my boy. I shall be here the third.”