I snatched up my mask—one of the most ingenious inventions, by the way, of recent years; if the armies of the future wear my mask they will defy my weapon!—and was about to re-adjust it in its place, when someone knocked at the door.
‘Who’s there?—Come in!’
It was Edwards. He looked round him as if surprised.
‘I beg your pardon, sir,—I thought you were engaged. I didn’t know that—that gentleman had gone.’
‘He went up the chimney, as all that kind of gentlemen do.—Why the deuce did you let him in when I told you not to?’
‘Really, sir, I don’t know. I gave him your message, and—he looked at me, and—that is all I remember till I found myself standing in this room.’
Had it not been Edwards I might have suspected him of having had his palm well greased,—but, in his case, I knew better. It was as I thought,—my visitor was a mesmerist of the first class; he had actually played some of his tricks, in broad daylight, on my servant, at my own front door,—a man worth studying. Edwards continued.
‘There is someone else, sir, who wishes to see you,—Mr Lessingham.’
‘Mr Lessingham!’ At that moment the juxtaposition seemed odd, though I daresay it was so rather in appearance than in reality. ‘Show him in.’
Presently in came Paul.