CHAPTER XVII
Through the Phonoscope
I can scarcely recall where I wandered in my haste; I only know that I followed long twining aisles in a half-darkness, beset by the vision of a man with slit eyes and twisted nose. I must have traveled half a mile before at length I turned to glance behind me, confident of having thrown off my pursuer. But how cruelly I was surprised! About a hundred yards down the gallery, advancing toward me at no uncertain pace, strode a chalk-face whom I thought I recognized by his slit eyes. Owing to the distance, I may have been mistaken; but, in any case, I thought it wiser to flee than to investigate, and put on my best sprinting gait as I slipped around a bend in the corridor and off along a narrow, down-curving passageway.
Less than a minute later, I passed another turn in the gallery, and came out, to my surprise, among a crowd of natives in a wide grotto dominated by a sign in glowing crystalline letters: "Phonoscope Theatre: Admission, One Silver Finger."
Now I had no notion what a "phonoscope theatre" might be, but I knew that a "silver finger" was a fair-sized sum of money—equivalent to the returns from an average day's labor. Needless to say, I had never yet had such a sum; hence it might have seemed sheer madness to follow the idea that leaped into my mind—to seek refuge in the theatre. Yet I had not a moment's hesitation. Mingling with the crowd, I pressed forward in a long line filing past a ticket-taker; and since, of course, I was without the requisite slip of paper, I determined upon strategy to admit me. Taking advantage of the chalk-faces' inability to see things near at hand, I seized a little strip of cardboard which chanced to be in my pocket (it had been used for jotting down some notes during my lessons from Loa) confidently thrust this into the ticket-taker's hand, and cried, "Free pass!" knowing that he would have to hold it off at a distance and examine it with binoculars before discovering the fraud. Then, while the puzzled official was inspecting the ticket, I allowed the impatient mob behind to press me forward and lost no time about passing the theatre door.
It seemed to me that, as I entered, I heard a confused shouting outside, and some imprecations calling down the Seven Furies on someone's head. However, I paid little attention, but remained nicely hidden in the midst of the crowd as I shuffled down a long aisle in the most peculiar amusement place I had ever seen.
It had, indeed, some resemblance to theatres as I had known them, but was nearer in appearance to the amphitheatres of the Greeks. Beneath a ceiling that arched to a hundred feet or more, long rows of benches sloped down toward an open central space or stage, on which a tall chalk-face with a long three-pointed beard was holding forth sonorously; while all the spectators, curiously enough, were looking and listening through queer instruments projecting from the benches, and rarely seemed to heed the speaker.
As quickly and inconspicuously as possible, I slipped into one of the seats, feeling that I had at last eluded my pursuer, and began to examine the instruments in front of me, of whose purpose I remained in doubt. There were tubes like earphones, attached by wires to a little electric socket; and there were other tubes resembling small telescopes, also attached by wires to a socket. What use could there be for telescopes in this auditorium?
So I asked myself, as, following my neighbors' example, I tried to adjust the instruments. But so cumbrous were they that it was minutes before I had discovered their purpose.