Then，asSymecontinuedtostareatthem，hesawsomethingthathehadnotseenbefore。Hehadnotseenitliterallybecauseitwastoolargetosee。Atthenearestendofthebalcony，blockingupagreatpartoftheperspective，wasthebackofagreatmountainofaman。WhenSymehadseenhim，hisfirstthoughtwasthattheweightofhimmustbreakdownthebalconyofstone。Hisvastnessdidnotlieonlyinthefactthathewasabnormallytallandquiteincrediblyfat。Thismanwasplannedenormouslyinhisoriginalproportions，likeastatuecarveddeliberatelyascolossal。Hishead，crownedwithwhitehair，asseenfrombehindlookedbiggerthanaheadoughttobe。Theearsthatstoodoutfromitlookedlargerthanhumanears。Hewasenlargedterriblytoscale;andthissenseofsizewassostaggering，thatwhenSymesawhimalltheotherfiguresseemedquitesuddenlytodwindleandbecomedwarfish。
Theywerestillsittingthereasbeforewiththeirflowersandfrock—coats，butnowitlookedasifthebigmanwasentertainingfivechildrentotea。
AsSymeandtheguideapproachedthesidedoorofthehotel，awaitercameoutsmilingwitheverytoothinhishead。
\"Thegentlemenareupthere，sare，\"hesaid。\"Theydotalkandtheydolaughatwhattheytalk。Theydosaytheywillthrowbombsatzeking。\"
Andthewaiterhurriedawaywithanapkinoverhisarm，muchpleasedwiththesingularfrivolityofthegentlemenupstairs。
Thetwomenmountedthestairsinsilence。
SymehadneverthoughtofaskingwhetherthemonstrousmanwhoalmostfilledandbrokethebalconywasthegreatPresidentofwhomtheothersstoodinawe。Heknewitwasso，withanunaccountablebutinstantaneouscertainty。Syme，indeed，wasoneofthosemenwhoareopentoallthemorenamelesspsychologicalinfluencesinadegreealittledangeroustomentalhealth。Utterlydevoidoffearinphysicaldangers，hewasagreatdealtoosensitivetothesmellofspiritualevil。Twicealreadythatnightlittleunmeaningthingshadpeepedoutathimalmostpruriently，andgivenhimasenseofdrawingnearerandnearertothehead—quartersofhell。AndthissensebecameoverpoweringashedrewnearertothegreatPresident。
Theformittookwasachildishandyethatefulfancy。Ashewalkedacrosstheinnerroomtowardsthebalcony，thelargefaceofSundaygrewlargerandlarger;andSymewasgrippedwithafearthatwhenhewasquiteclosethefacewouldbetoobigtobepossible，andthathewouldscreamaloud。HerememberedthatasachildhewouldnotlookatthemaskofMemnonintheBritishMuseum，becauseitwasaface，andsolarge。
Byaneffort，braverthanthatofleapingoveracliff，hewenttoanemptyseatatthebreakfast—tableandsatdown。Themengreetedhimwithgood—humouredrailleryasiftheyhadalwaysknownhim。Hesoberedhimselfalittlebylookingattheirconventionalcoatsandsolid，shiningcoffee—pot;thenhelookedagainatSunday。Hisfacewasverylarge，butitwasstillpossibletohumanity。
InthepresenceofthePresidentthewholecompanylookedsufficientlycommonplace;nothingaboutthemcaughttheeyeatfirst，exceptthatbythePresident’scapricetheyhadbeendressedupwithafestiverespectability，whichgavethemealthelookofaweddingbreakfast。Onemanindeedstoodoutatevenasuperficialglance。HeatleastwasthecommonorgardenDynamiter。Hewore，indeed，thehighwhitecollarandsatintiethatweretheuniformoftheoccasion;butoutofthiscollartheresprangaheadquiteunmanageableandquiteunmistakable，abewilderingbushofbrownhairandbeardthatalmostobscuredtheeyeslikethoseofaSkyeterrier。Buttheeyesdidlookoutofthetangle，andtheywerethesadeyesofsomeRussianserf。TheeffectofthisfigurewasnotterriblelikethatofthePresident，butithadeverydiableriethatcancomefromtheutterlygrotesque。Ifoutofthatstifftieandcollartherehadcomeabruptlytheheadofacatoradog，itcouldnothavebeenamoreidioticcontrast。
Theman’sname，itseemed，wasGogol;hewasaPole，andinthiscircleofdayshewascalledTuesday。Hissoulandspeechwereincurablytragic;hecouldnotforcehimselftoplaytheprosperousandfrivolouspartdemandedofhimbyPresidentSunday。
And，indeed，whenSymecameinthePresident，withthatdaringdisregardofpublicsuspicionwhichwashispolicy，wasactuallychaffingGogoluponhisinabilitytoassumeconventionalgraces。
\"OurfriendTuesday，\"saidthePresidentinadeepvoiceatonceofquietudeandvolume，\"ourfriendTuesdaydoesn’tseemtograsptheidea。Hedressesuplikeagentleman，butheseemstobetoogreatasoultobehavelikeone。Heinsistsonthewaysofthestageconspirator。NowifagentlemangoesaboutLondoninatophatandafrock—coat，nooneneedknowthatheisananarchist。
Butifagentlemanputsonatophatandafrock—coat，andthengoesaboutonhishandsandknees——well，hemayattractattention。
That’swhatBrotherGogoldoes。Hegoesaboutonhishandsandkneeswithsuchinexhaustiblediplomacy，thatbythistimehefindsitquitedifficulttowalkupright。\"
\"Iamnotgoodatgoncealment，\"saidGogolsulkily，withathickforeignaccent;\"Iamnotashamedofthecause。\"
\"Yesyouare，myboy，andsoisthecauseofyou，\"saidthePresidentgood—naturedly。\"Youhideasmuchasanybody;butyoucan’tdoit，yousee，you’resuchanass！Youtrytocombinetwoinconsistentmethods。Whenahouseholderfindsamanunderhisbed，hewillprobablypausetonotethecircumstance。Butifhefindsamanunderhisbedinatophat，youwillagreewithme，mydearTuesday，thatheisnotlikelyeventoforgetit。NowwhenyouwerefoundunderAdmiralBiffin’sbed——\"
\"Iamnotgoodatdeception，\"saidTuesdaygloomily，flushing。
\"Right，myboy，right，\"saidthePresidentwithaponderousheartiness，\"youaren’tgoodatanything。\"
Whilethisstreamofconversationcontinued，Symewaslookingmoresteadilyatthemenaroundhim。Ashedidso，hegraduallyfeltallhissenseofsomethingspirituallyqueerreturn。
Hehadthoughtatfirstthattheywereallofcommonstatureandcostume，withtheevidentexceptionofthehairyGogol。Butashelookedattheothers，hebegantoseeineachofthemexactlywhathehadseeninthemanbytheriver，ademoniacdetailsomewhere。
Thatlop—sidedlaugh，whichwouldsuddenlydisfigurethefinefaceofhisoriginalguide，wastypicalofallthesetypes。Eachmanhadsomethingabouthim，perceivedperhapsatthetenthortwentiethglance，whichwasnotnormal，andwhichseemedhardlyhuman。Theonlymetaphorhecouldthinkofwasthis，thattheyalllookedasmenoffashionandpresencewouldlook，withtheadditionaltwistgiveninafalseandcurvedmirror。
Onlytheindividualexampleswillexpressthishalf—concealedeccentricity。Syme’soriginalciceroneborethetitleofMonday;
hewastheSecretaryoftheCouncil，andhistwistedsmilewasregardedwithmoreterrorthananything，exceptthePresident’shorrible，happylaughter。ButnowthatSymehadmorespaceandlighttoobservehim，therewereothertouches。Hisfinefacewassoemaciated，thatSymethoughtitmustbewastedwithsomedisease;yetsomehowtheverydistressofhisdarkeyesdeniedthis。Itwasnophysicalillthattroubledhim。Hiseyeswerealivewithintellectualtorture，asifpurethoughtwaspain。
Hewastypicalofeachofthetribe;eachmanwassubtlyanddifferentlywrong。NexttohimsatTuesday，thetousle—headedGogol，amanmoreobviouslymad。NextwasWednesday，acertainMarquisdeSt。Eustache，asufficientlycharacteristicfigure。Thefirstfewglancesfoundnothingunusualabouthim，exceptthathewastheonlymanattablewhoworethefashionableclothesasiftheywerereallyhisown。HehadablackFrenchbeardcutsquareandablackEnglishfrock—coatcutevensquarer。ButSyme，sensitivetosuchthings，feltsomehowthatthemancarriedarichatmospherewithhim，arichatmospherethatsuffocated。ItremindedoneirrationallyofdrowsyodoursandofdyinglampsinthedarkerpoemsofByronandPoe。Withthiswentasenseofhisbeingclad，notinlightercolours，butinsoftermaterials;hisblackseemedricherandwarmerthantheblackshadesabouthim，asifitwerecompoundedofprofoundcolour。Hisblackcoatlookedasifitwereonlyblackbybeingtoodenseapurple。Hisblackbeardlookedasifitwereonlyblackbybeingtoodeepablue。Andinthegloomandthicknessofthebeardhisdarkredmouthshowedsensualandscornful。WhateverhewashewasnotaFrenchman;hemightbeaJew;hemightbesomethingdeeperyetinthedarkheartoftheEast。InthebrightcolouredPersiantilesandpicturesshowingtyrantshunting，youmayseejustthosealmondeyes，thoseblue—blackbeards，thosecruel，crimsonlips。
ThencameSyme，andnextaveryoldman，ProfessordeWorms，whostillkeptthechairofFriday，thougheverydayitwasexpectedthathisdeathwouldleaveitempty。Saveforhisintellect，hewasinthelastdissolutionofseniledecay。Hisfacewasasgreyashislonggreybeard，hisforeheadwasliftedandfixedfinallyinafurrowofmilddespair。Innoothercase，noteventhatofGogol，didthebridegroombrilliancyofthemorningdressexpressamorepainfulcontrast。Fortheredflowerinhisbutton—holeshowedupagainstafacethatwasliterallydiscolouredlikelead;thewholehideouseffectwasasifsomedrunkendandieshadputtheirclothesuponacorpse。Whenheroseorsatdown，whichwaswithlonglabourandperil，somethingworsewasexpressedthanmereweakness，somethingindefinablyconnectedwiththehorrorofthewholescene。
Itdidnotexpressdecrepitudemerely，butcorruption。AnotherhatefulfancycrossedSyme’squiveringmind。Hecouldnothelpthinkingthatwheneverthemanmovedalegorarmmightfalloff。
RightattheendsatthemancalledSaturday，thesimplestandthemostbafflingofall。Hewasashort，squaremanwithadark，squarefaceclean—shaven，amedicalpractitionergoingbythenameofBull。Hehadthatcombinationofsavoir—fairewithasortofwell—groomedcoarsenesswhichisnotuncommoninyoungdoctors。Hecarriedhisfineclotheswithconfidenceratherthanease，andhemostlyworeasetsmile。Therewasnothingwhateveroddabouthim，exceptthatheworeapairofdark，almostopaquespectacles。Itmayhavebeenmerelyacrescendoofnervousfancythathadgonebefore，butthoseblackdiscsweredreadfultoSyme;theyremindedhimofhalf—remembereduglytales，ofsomestoryaboutpenniesbeingputontheeyesofthedead。Syme’seyealwayscaughttheblackglassesandtheblindgrin。HadthedyingProfessorwornthem，oreventhepaleSecretary，theywouldhavebeenappropriate。
Butontheyoungerandgrossermantheyseemedonlyanenigma。Theytookawaythekeyoftheface。Youcouldnottellwhathissmileorhisgravitymeant。Partlyfromthis，andpartlybecausehehadavulgarvirilitywantinginmostoftheothersitseemedtoSymethathemightbethewickedestofallthosewickedmen。Symeevenhadthethoughtthathiseyesmightbecoveredupbecausetheyweretoofrightfultosee。
CHAPTERVI
THEEXPOSURE
SUCHwerethesixmenwhohadsworntodestroytheworld。AgainandagainSymestrovetopulltogetherhiscommonsenseintheirpresence。Sometimeshesawforaninstantthatthesenotionsweresubjective，thathewasonlylookingatordinarymen，oneofwhomwasold，anothernervous，anothershort—sighted。Thesenseofanunnaturalsymbolismalwayssettledbackonhimagain。Eachfigureseemedtobe，somehow，ontheborderlandofthings，justastheirtheorywasontheborderlandofthought。Heknewthateachoneofthesemenstoodattheextremeend，sotospeak，ofsomewildroadofreasoning。Hecouldonlyfancy，asinsomeold—worldfable，thatifamanwentwestwardtotheendoftheworldhewouldfindsomething——sayatree——thatwasmoreorlessthanatree，atreepossessedbyaspirit;andthatifhewenteasttotheendoftheworldhewouldfindsomethingelsethatwasnotwhollyitself——atower，perhaps，ofwhichtheveryshapewaswicked。Sothesefiguresseemedtostandup，violentandunaccountable，againstanultimatehorizon，visionsfromtheverge。Theendsoftheearthwereclosingin。
Talkhadbeengoingonsteadilyashetookinthescene;andnottheleastofthecontrastsofthatbewilderingbreakfast—tablewasthecontrastbetweentheeasyandunobtrusivetoneoftalkanditsterriblepurport。Theyweredeepinthediscussionofanactualandimmediateplot。Thewaiterdownstairshadspokenquitecorrectlywhenhesaidthattheyweretalkingaboutbombsandkings。OnlythreedaysafterwardstheCzarwastomeetthePresidentoftheFrenchRepublicinParis，andovertheirbaconandeggsupontheirsunnybalconythesebeaminggentlemenhaddecidedhowbothshoulddie。Eventheinstrumentwaschosen;theblack—beardedMarquis，itappeared，wastocarrythebomb。
Ordinarilyspeaking，theproximityofthispositiveandobjectivecrimewouldhavesoberedSyme，andcuredhimofallhismerelymysticaltremors。Hewouldhavethoughtofnothingbuttheneedofsavingatleasttwohumanbodiesfrombeingrippedinpieceswithironandroaringgas。Butthetruthwasthatbythistimehehadbeguntofeelathirdkindoffear，morepiercingandpracticalthaneitherhismoralrevulsionorhissocialresponsibility。Verysimply，hehadnofeartosparefortheFrenchPresidentortheCzar;hehadbeguntofearforhimself。Mostofthetalkerstooklittleheedofhim，debatingnowwiththeirfacesclosertogether，andalmostuniformlygrave，savewhenforaninstantthesmileoftheSecretaryranaslantacrosshisfaceasthejaggedlightningrunsaslantacrossthesky。ButtherewasonepersistentthingwhichfirsttroubledSymeandatlastterrifiedhim。ThePresidentwasalwayslookingathim，steadily，andwithagreatandbafflinginterest。Theenormousmanwasquitequiet，buthisblueeyesstoodoutofhishead。AndtheywerealwaysfixedonSyme。
Symefeltmovedtospringupandleapoverthebalcony。WhenthePresident’seyeswereonhimhefeltasifheweremadeofglass。
HehadhardlytheshredofadoubtthatinsomesilentandextraordinarywaySundayhadfoundoutthathewasaspy。Helookedovertheedgeofthebalcony，andsawapoliceman，standingabstractedlyjustbeneath，staringatthebrightrailingsandthesunlittrees。
Thentherefelluponhimthegreattemptationthatwastotormenthimformanydays。Inthepresenceofthesepowerfulandrepulsivemen，whoweretheprincesofanarchy，hehadalmostforgottenthefrailandfancifulfigureofthepoetGregory，themereaestheteofanarchism。Heeventhoughtofhimnowwithanoldkindness，asiftheyhadplayedtogetherwhenchildren。ButherememberedthathewasstilltiedtoGregorybyagreatpromise。Hehadpromisednevertodotheverythingthathenowfelthimselfalmostintheactofdoing。Hehadpromisednottojumpoverthatbalconyandspeaktothatpoliceman。Hetookhiscoldhandoffthecoldstonebalustrade。Hissoulswayedinavertigoofmoralindecision。Hehadonlytosnapthethreadofarashvowmadetoavillainoussociety，andallhislifecouldbeasopenandsunnyasthesquarebeneathhim。Hehad，ontheotherhand，onlytokeephisantiquatedhonour，andbedeliveredinchbyinchintothepowerofthisgreatenemyofmankind，whoseveryintellectwasatorture—chamber。
Wheneverhelookeddownintothesquarehesawthecomfortablepoliceman，apillarofcommonsenseandcommonorder。Wheneverhelookedbackatthebreakfast—tablehesawthePresidentstillquietlystudyinghimwithbig，unbearableeyes。
Inallthetorrentofhisthoughtthereweretwothoughtsthatnevercrossedhismind。First，itneveroccurredtohimtodoubtthatthePresidentandhisCouncilcouldcrushhimifhecontinuedtostandalone。Theplacemightbepublic，theprojectmightseemimpossible。ButSundaywasnotthemanwhowouldcarryhimselfthuseasilywithouthaving，somehoworsomewhere，setopenhisirontrap。Eitherbyanonymouspoisonorsuddenstreetaccident，byhypnotismorbyfirefromhell，Sundaycouldcertainlystrikehim。Ifhedefiedthemanhewasprobablydead，eitherstruckstiffthereinhischairorlongafterwardsasbyaninnocentailment。Ifhecalledinthepolicepromptly，arrestedeveryone，toldall，andsetagainstthemthewholeenergyofEngland，hewouldprobablyescape;certainlynototherwise。Theywereabalconyfulofgentlemenoverlookingabrightandbusysquare;buthefeltnomoresafewiththemthaniftheyhadbeenaboatfulofarmedpiratesoverlookinganemptysea。
Therewasasecondthoughtthatnevercametohim。Itneveroccurredtohimtobespirituallywonovertotheenemy。Manymoderns，inuredtoaweakworshipofintellectandforce，mighthavewaveredintheirallegianceunderthisoppressionofagreatpersonality。TheymighthavecalledSundaythesuper—man。Ifanysuchcreaturebeconceivable，helooked，indeed，somewhatlikeit，withhisearth—shakingabstraction，asofastonestatuewalking。
Hemighthavebeencalledsomethingaboveman，withhislargeplans，whichweretooobvioustobedetected，withhislargeface，whichwastoofranktobeunderstood。ButthiswasakindofmodernmeannesstowhichSymecouldnotsinkeveninhisextrememorbidity。Likeanyman，hewascowardenoughtofeargreatforce;
buthewasnotquitecowardenoughtoadmireit。
Themenwereeatingastheytalked，andeveninthistheyweretypical。Dr。BullandtheMarquisatecasuallyandconventionallyofthebestthingsonthetable——coldpheasantorStrasbourgpie。
ButtheSecretarywasavegetarian，andhespokeearnestlyoftheprojectedmurderoverhalfarawtomatoandthreequartersofaglassoftepidwater。TheoldProfessorhadsuchslopsassuggestedasickeningsecondchildhood。AndeveninthisPresidentSundaypreservedhiscuriouspredominanceofmeremass。Forheateliketwentymen;heateincredibly，withafrightfulfreshnessofappetite，sothatitwaslikewatchingasausagefactory。Yetcontinually，whenhehadswallowedadozencrumpetsordrunkaquartofcoffee，hewouldbefoundwithhisgreatheadononesidestaringatSyme。
\"Ihaveoftenwondered，\"saidtheMarquis，takingagreatbiteoutofasliceofbreadandjam，\"whetheritwouldn’tbebetterformetodoitwithaknife。Mostofthebestthingshavebeenbroughtoffwithaknife。AnditwouldbeanewemotiontogetaknifeintoaFrenchPresidentandwriggleitround。\"
\"Youarewrong，\"saidtheSecretary，drawinghisblackbrowstogether。\"Theknifewasmerelytheexpressionoftheoldpersonalquarrelwithapersonaltyrant。Dynamiteisnotonlyourbesttool，butourbestsymbol。ItisasperfectasymbolofusasisincenseoftheprayersoftheChristians。Itexpands;itonlydestroysbecauseitbroadens;evenso，thoughtonlydestroysbecauseitbroadens。Aman’sbrainisabomb，\"hecriedout，looseningsuddenlyhisstrangepassionandstrikinghisownskullwithviolence。\"Mybrainfeelslikeabomb，nightandday。Itmustexpand！Itmustexpand！Aman’sbrainmustexpand，ifitbreaksuptheuniverse。\"
\"Idon’twanttheuniversebrokenupjustyet，\"drawledtheMarquis。\"IwanttodoalotofbeastlythingsbeforeIdie。
Ithoughtofoneyesterdayinbed。\"
\"No，iftheonlyendofthethingisnothing，\"saidDr。Bullwithhissphinx—likesmile，\"ithardlyseemsworthdoing。\"
TheoldProfessorwasstaringattheceilingwithdulleyes。
\"Everymanknowsinhisheart，\"hesaid，\"thatnothingisworthdoing。\"
Therewasasingularsilence，andthentheSecretarysaid——
\"Wearewandering，however，fromthepoint。TheonlyquestionishowWednesdayistostriketheblow。Itakeitweshouldallagreewiththeoriginalnotionofabomb。Astotheactualarrangements，Ishouldsuggestthattomorrowmorningheshouldgofirstofallto——\"
Thespeechwasbrokenoffshortunderavastshadow。PresidentSundayhadrisentohisfeet，seemingtofilltheskyabovethem。
\"Beforewediscussthat，\"hesaidinasmall，quietvoice，\"letusgointoaprivateroom。Ihavesomethingventparticulartosay。\"
Symestoodupbeforeanyoftheothers。Theinstantofchoicehadcomeatlast，thepistolwasathishead。Onthepavementbeforehecouldhearthepolicemanidlystirandstamp，forthemorning，thoughbright，wascold。
Abarrel—organinthestreetsuddenlysprangwithajerkintoajovialtune。Symestooduptaut，asifithadbeenabuglebeforethebattle。Hefoundhimselffilledwithasupernaturalcouragethatcamefromnowhere。Thatjinglingmusicseemedfullofthevivacity，thevulgarity，andtheirrationalvalourofthepoor，whoinallthoseuncleanstreetswereallclingingtothedecenciesandthecharitiesofChristendom。Hisyouthfulprankofbeingapolicemanhadfadedfromhismind;hedidnotthinkofhimselfastherepresentativeofthecorpsofgentlementurnedintofancyconstables，oroftheoldeccentricwholivedinthedarkroom。
Buthedidfeelhimselfastheambassadorofallthesecommonandkindlypeopleinthestreet，whoeverydaymarchedintobattletothemusicofthebarrel—organ。Andthishighprideinbeinghumanhadliftedhimunaccountablytoaninfiniteheightabovethemonstrousmenaroundhim。Foraninstant，atleast，helookeddownuponalltheirsprawlingeccentricitiesfromthestarrypinnacleofthecommonplace。Hefelttowardsthemallthatunconsciousandelementarysuperioritythatabravemanfeelsoverpowerfulbeastsorawisemanoverpowerfulerrors。HeknewthathehadneithertheintellectualnorthephysicalstrengthofPresidentSunday;butinthatmomenthemindeditnomorethanthefactthathehadnotthemusclesofatigerorahornonhisnoselikearhinoceros。AllwasswallowedupinanultimatecertaintythatthePresidentwaswrongandthatthebarrel—organwasright。ThereclangedinhismindthatunanswerableandterribletruisminthesongofRoland——
\"PagensonttortetChretiensontdroit。\"
whichintheoldnasalFrenchhastheclangandgroanofgreatiron。Thisliberationofhisspiritfromtheloadofhisweaknesswentwithaquitecleardecisiontoembracedeath。Ifthepeopleofthebarrel—organcouldkeeptheirold—worldobligations，socouldhe。Thisveryprideinkeepinghiswordwasthathewaskeepingittomiscreants。Itwashislasttriumphovertheselunaticstogodownintotheirdarkroomanddieforsomethingthattheycouldnotevenunderstand。Thebarrel—organseemedtogivethemarchingtunewiththeenergyandtheminglednoisesofawholeorchestra;andhecouldheardeepandrolling，underallthetrumpetsoftheprideoflife，thedrumsoftheprideofdeath。
Theconspiratorswerealreadyfilingthroughtheopenwindowandintotheroomsbehind。Symewentlast，outwardlycalm，butwithallhisbrainandbodythrobbingwithromanticrhythm。ThePresidentledthemdownanirregularsidestair，suchasmightbeusedbyservants，andintoadim，cold，emptyroom，withatableandbenches，likeanabandonedboardroom。Whentheywereallin，heclosedandlockedthedoor。
ThefirsttospeakwasGogol，theirreconcilable，whoseemedburstingwithinarticulategrievance。
\"Zso！Zso！\"hecried，withanobscureexcitement，hisheavyPolishaccentbecomingalmostimpenetrable。\"Youzayyounod’ide。Youzayyoushowhimselves。Itisallnuzzinks。Venyouvanttalkimportanceyourunyourselvesinadarkbox！\"
ThePresidentseemedtotaketheforeigner’sincoherentsatirewithentiregoodhumour。
\"Youcan’tgetholdofityet，Gogol，\"hesaidinafatherlyway。
\"Whenoncetheyhaveheardustalkingnonsenseonthatbalconytheywillnotcarewherewegoafterwards。Ifwehadcomeherefirst，weshouldhavehadthewholestaffatthekeyhole。Youdon’tseemtoknowanythingaboutmankind。\"
\"Idieforzem，\"criedthePoleinthickexcitement，\"andIslayzareoppressors。Icarenotforthesegamesofgonzealment。Iwouldzmitezetyrantinzeopensquare。\"
\"Isee，Isee，\"saidthePresident，noddingkindlyasheseatedhimselfatthetopofalongtable。\"Youdieformankindfirst，andthenyougetupandsmitetheiroppressors。Sothat’sallright。
AndnowmayIaskyoutocontrolyourbeautifulsentiments，andsitdownwiththeothergentlemenatthistable。Forthefirsttimethismorningsomethingintelligentisgoingtobesaid。\"
Syme，withtheperturbedpromptitudehehadshownsincetheoriginalsummons，satdownfirst。Gogolsatdownlast，grumblinginhisbrownbeardaboutgombromise。NooneexceptSymeseemedtohaveanynotionoftheblowthatwasabouttofall。Asforhim，hehadmerelythefeelingofamanmountingthescaffoldwiththeintention，atanyrate，ofmakingagoodspeech。
\"Comrades，\"saidthePresident，suddenlyrising，\"wehavespunoutthisfarcelongenough。Ihavecalledyoudownheretotellyousomethingsosimpleandshockingthateventhewaitersupstairs（longinuredtoourlevities）mighthearsomenewseriousnessinmyvoice。Comrades，wewerediscussingplansandnamingplaces。I
propose，beforesayinganythingelse，thatthoseplansandplacesshouldnotbevotedbythismeeting，butshouldbeleftwhollyinthecontrolofsomeonereliablemember。IsuggestComradeSaturday，Dr。Bull。\"
Theyallstaredathim;thentheyallstartedintheirseats，forthenextwords，thoughnotloud，hadalivingandsensationalemphasis。Sundaystruckthetable。
\"Notonewordmoreabouttheplansandplacesmustbesaidatthismeeting。Notonetinydetailmoreaboutwhatwemeantodomustbementionedinthiscompany。\"
Sundayhadspenthislifeinastonishinghisfollowers;butitseemedasifhehadneverreallyastonishedthemuntilnow。Theyallmovedfeverishlyintheirseats，exceptSyme。Hesatstiffinhis，withhishandinhispocket，andonthehandleofhisloadedrevolver。Whentheattackonhimcamehewouldsellhislifedear。
HewouldfindoutatleastifthePresidentwasmortal。
Sundaywentonsmoothly——
\"Youwillprobablyunderstandthatthereisonlyonepossiblemotiveforforbiddingfreespeechatthisfestivaloffreedom。
Strangersoverhearingusmattersnothing。Theyassumethatwearejoking。Butwhatwouldmatter，evenuntodeath，isthis，thatthereshouldbeoneactuallyamonguswhoisnotofus，whoknowsourgravepurpose，butdoesnotshareit，who——\"
TheSecretaryscreamedoutsuddenlylikeawoman。
\"Itcan’tbe！\"hecried，leaping。\"Therecan’t——\"
ThePresidentflappedhislargeflathandonthetablelikethefinofsomehugefish。
\"Yes，\"hesaidslowly，\"thereisaspyinthisroom。Thereisatraitoratthistable。Iwillwastenomorewords。Hisname——\"
Symehalfrosefromhisseat，hisfingerfirmonthetrigger。
\"HisnameisGogol，\"saidthePresident。\"HeisthathairyhumbugovertherewhopretendstobeaPole。\"
Gogolsprangtohisfeet，apistolineachhand。Withthesameflashthreemensprangathisthroat。EventheProfessormadeanefforttorise。ButSymesawlittleofthescene，forhewasblindedwithabeneficentdarkness;hehadsunkdownintohisseatshuddering，inapalsyofpassionaterelief。
CHAPTERVII
THEUNACCOUNTABLECONDUCTOFPROFESSORDEWORMS
\"SITdown！\"saidSundayinavoicethatheusedonceortwiceinhislife，avoicethatmademendropdrawnswords。
ThethreewhohadrisenfellawayfromGogol，andthatequivocalpersonhimselfresumedhisseat。
\"Well，myman，\"saidthePresidentbriskly，addressinghimasoneaddressesatotalstranger，\"willyouobligemebyputtingyourhandinyourupperwaistcoatpocketandshowingmewhatyouhavethere？\"
TheallegedPolewasalittlepaleunderhistangleofdarkhair，butheputtwofingersintothepocketwithapparentcoolnessandpulledoutabluestripofcard。WhenSymesawitlyingonthetable，hewokeupagaintotheworldoutsidehim。Foralthoughthecardlayattheotherextremeofthetable，andhecouldreadnothingoftheinscriptiononit，itboreastartlingresemblancetothebluecardinhisownpocket，thecardwhichhadbeengiventohimwhenhejoinedtheanti—anarchistconstabulary。
\"PatheticSlav，\"saidthePresident，\"tragicchildofPoland，areyoupreparedinthepresenceofthatcardtodenythatyouareinthiscompany——shallwesaydetrop？\"
\"Rightoh！\"saidthelateGogol。Itmadeeveryonejumptohearaclear，commercialandsomewhatcockneyvoicecomingoutofthatforestofforeignhair。Itwasirrational，asifaChinamanhadsuddenlyspokenwithaScotchaccent。
\"Igatherthatyoufullyunderstandyourposition，\"saidSunday。
\"Youbet，\"answeredthePole。\"Iseeit’safaircop。AllIsayis，Idon’tbelieveanyPolecouldhaveimitatedmyaccentlikeIdidhis。\"
\"Iconcedethepoint，\"saidSunday。\"Ibelieveyourownaccenttobeinimitable，thoughIshallpractiseitinmybath。Doyoumindleavingyourbeardwithyourcard？\"
\"Notabit，\"answeredGogol;andwithonefingerherippedoffthewholeofhisshaggyhead—covering，emergingwiththinredhairandapale，pertface。\"Itwashot，\"headded。
\"Iwilldoyouthejusticetosay，\"saidSunday，notwithoutasortofbrutaladmiration，\"thatyouseemtohavekeptprettycoolunderit。Nowlistentome。Ilikeyou。TheconsequenceisthatitwouldannoymeforjustabouttwoandahalfminutesifIheardthatyouhaddiedintorments。Well，ifyouevertellthepoliceoranyhumansoulaboutus，Ishallhavethattwoandahalfminutesofdiscomfort。OnyourdiscomfortIwillnotdwell。Goodday。Mindthestep。\"
Thered—haireddetectivewhohadmasqueradedasGogolrosetohisfeetwithoutaword，andwalkedoutoftheroomwithanairofperfectnonchalance。YettheastonishedSymewasabletorealisethatthiseasewassuddenlyassumed;fortherewasaslightstumbleoutsidethedoor，whichshowedthatthedepartingdetectivehadnotmindedthestep。
\"Timeisflying，\"saidthePresidentinhisgayestmanner，afterglancingathiswatch，whichlikeeverythingabouthimseemedbiggerthanitoughttobe。\"Imustgooffatonce;IhavetotakethechairataHumanitarianmeeting。\"
TheSecretaryturnedtohimwithworkingeyebrows。
\"Woulditnotbebetter，\"hesaidalittlesharply，\"todiscussfurtherthedetailsofourproject，nowthatthespyhasleftus？\"
\"No，Ithinknot，\"saidthePresidentwithayawnlikeanunobtrusiveearthquake。\"Leaveitasitis。LetSaturdaysettleit。Imustbeoff。BreakfastherenextSunday。\"
ButthelateloudsceneshadwhippedupthealmostnakednervesoftheSecretary。Hewasoneofthosemenwhoareconscientiousevenincrime。
\"Imustprotest，President，thatthethingisirregular，\"hesaid。
\"Itisafundamentalruleofoursocietythatallplansshallbedebatedinfullcouncil。Ofcourse，Ifullyappreciateyourforethoughtwhenintheactualpresenceofatraitor——\"
\"Secretary，\"saidthePresidentseriously，\"ifyou’dtakeyourheadhomeandboilitforaturnipitmightbeuseful。Ican’tsay。Butitmight。
TheSecretaryrearedbackinakindofequineanger。
\"Ireallyfailtounderstand——\"hebeganinhighoffense。
\"That’sit，that’sit，\"saidthePresident，noddingagreatmanytimes。\"That’swhereyoufailrightenough。Youfailtounderstand。
Why，youdancingdonkey，\"heroared，rising，\"youdidn’twanttobeoverheardbyaspy，didn’tyou？Howdoyouknowyouaren’toverheardnow？\"
Andwiththesewordsheshoulderedhiswayoutoftheroom，shakingwithincomprehensiblescorn。
Fourofthemenleftbehindgapedafterhimwithoutanyapparentglimmeringofhismeaning。Symealonehadevenaglimmering，andsuchasitwasitfrozehimtothebone。IfthelastwordsofthePresidentmeantanything，theymeantthathehadnotafterallpassedunsuspected。TheymeantthatwhileSundaycouldnotdenouncehimlikeGogol，hestillcouldnottrusthimliketheothers。
Theotherfourgottotheirfeetgrumblingmoreorless，andbetookthemselveselsewheretofindlunch，foritwasalreadywellpastmidday。TheProfessorwentlast，veryslowlyandpainfully。Symesatlongaftertheresthadgone，revolvinghisstrangeposition。
Hehadescapedathunderbolt，buthewasstillunderacloud。AtlastheroseandmadehiswayoutofthehotelintoLeicesterSquare。Thebright，colddayhadgrownincreasinglycolder，andwhenhecameoutintothestreethewassurprisedbyafewflakesofsnow。Whilehestillcarriedthesword—stickandtherestofGregory’sportableluggage，hehadthrownthecloakdownandleftitsomewhere，perhapsonthesteam—tug，perhapsonthebalcony。
Hoping，therefore，thatthesnow—showermightbeslight，hesteppedbackoutofthestreetforamomentandstoodupunderthedoorwayofasmallandgreasyhair—dresser’sshop，thefrontwindowofwhichwasempty，exceptforasicklywaxladyineveningdress。
Snow，however，begantothickenandfallfast;andSyme，havingfoundoneglanceatthewaxladyquitesufficienttodepresshisspirits，staredoutinsteadintothewhiteandemptystreet。Hewasconsiderablyastonishedtosee，standingquitestilloutsidetheshopandstaringintothewindow，aman。HistophatwasloadedwithsnowlikethehatofFatherChristmas，thewhitedriftwasrisingroundhisbootsandankles;butitseemedasifnothingcouldtearhimawayfromthecontemplationofthecolourlesswaxdollindirtyeveningdress。ThatanyhumanbeingshouldstandinsuchweatherlookingintosuchashopwasamatterofsufficientwondertoSyme;buthisidlewonderturnedsuddenlyintoapersonalshock;forherealisedthatthemanstandingtherewastheparalyticoldProfessordeWorms。Itscarcelyseemedtheplaceforapersonofhisyearsandinfirmities。
Symewasreadytobelieveanythingabouttheperversionsofthisdehumanizedbrotherhood;butevenhecouldnotbelievethattheProfessorhadfalleninlovewiththatparticularwaxlady。Hecouldonlysupposethattheman’smalady（whateveritwas）involvedsomemomentaryfitsofrigidityortrance。Hewasnotinclined，however，tofeelinthiscaseanyverycompassionateconcern。Onthecontrary，herathercongratulatedhimselfthattheProfessor’sstrokeandhiselaborateandlimpingwalkwouldmakeiteasytoescapefromhimandleavehimmilesbehind。ForSymethirstedfirstandlasttogetclearofthewholepoisonousatmosphere，ifonlyforanhour。Thenhecouldcollecthisthoughts，formulatehispolicy，anddecidefinallywhetherheshouldorshouldnotkeepfaithwithGregory。
Hestrolledawaythroughthedancingsnow，turneduptwoorthreestreets，downthroughtwoorthreeothers，andenteredasmallSohorestaurantforlunch。Hepartookreflectivelyoffoursmallandquaintcourses，drankhalfabottleofredwine，andendedupoverblackcoffeeandablackcigar，stillthinking。Hehadtakenhisseatintheupperroomoftherestaurant，whichwasfullofthechinkofknivesandthechatterofforeigners。Herememberedthatinolddayshehadimaginedthatalltheseharmlessandkindlyalienswereanarchists。Heshuddered，rememberingtherealthing。
Buteventheshudderhadthedelightfulshameofescape。Thewine，thecommonfood，thefamiliarplace，thefacesofnaturalandtalkativemen，madehimalmostfeelasiftheCounciloftheSevenDayshadbeenabaddream;andalthoughheknewitwasneverthelessanobjectivereality，itwasatleastadistantone。Tallhousesandpopulousstreetslaybetweenhimandhislastsightoftheshamefulseven;hewasfreeinfreeLondon，anddrinkingwineamongthefree。Withasomewhateasieraction，hetookhishatandstickandstrolleddownthestairintotheshopbelow。
Whenheenteredthatlowerroomhestoodstrickenandrootedtothespot。Atasmalltable，closeuptotheblankwindowandthewhitestreetofsnow，sattheoldanarchistProfessoroveraglassofmilk，withhisliftedlividfaceandpendenteyelids。ForaninstantSymestoodasrigidasthestickheleantupon。Thenwithagestureasofblindhurry，hebrushedpasttheProfessor，dashingopenthedoorandslammingitbehindhim，andstoodoutsideinthesnow。
\"Canthatoldcorpsebefollowingme？\"heaskedhimself，bitinghisyellowmoustache。\"Istoppedtoolongupinthatroom，sothatevensuchleadenfeetcouldcatchmeup。Onecomfortis，withalittlebriskwalkingIcanputamanlikethatasfarawayasTimbuctoo。
OramItoofanciful？Washereallyfollowingme？SurelySundaywouldnotbesuchafoolastosendalameman？\"
Hesetoffatasmartpace，twistingandwhirlinghisstick，inthedirectionofCoventGarden。Ashecrossedthegreatmarketthesnowincreased，growingblindingandbewilderingastheafternoonbegantodarken。Thesnow—flakestormentedhimlikeaswarmofsilverbees。Gettingintohiseyesandbeard，theyaddedtheirunremittingfutilitytohisalreadyirritatednerves;andbythetimethathehadcomeataswingingpacetothebeginningofFleetStreet，helostpatience，andfindingaSundayteashop，turnedintoittotakeshelter。Heorderedanothercupofblackcoffeeasanexcuse。Scarcelyhadhedoneso，whenProfessordeWormshobbledheavilyintotheshop，satdownwithdifficultyandorderedaglassofmilk。
Syme’swalking—stickhadfallenfromhishandwithagreatclang，whichconfessedtheconcealedsteel。ButtheProfessordidnotlookround。Syme，whowascommonlyacoolcharacter，wasliterallygapingasarusticgapesataconjuringtrick。Hehadseennocabfollowing;hehadheardnowheelsoutsidetheshop;toallmortalappearancesthemanhadcomeonfoot。Buttheoldmancouldonlywalklikeasnail，andSymehadwalkedlikethewind。Hestartedupandsnatchedhisstick，halfcrazywiththecontradictioninmerearithmetic，andswungoutoftheswingingdoors，leavinghiscoffeeuntasted。AnomnibusgoingtotheBankwentrattlingbywithanunusualrapidity。Hehadaviolentrunofahundredyardstoreachit;buthemanagedtospring，swayinguponthesplash—boardand，pausingforaninstanttopant，heclimbedontothetop。Whenhehadbeenseatedforabouthalfaminute，heheardbehindhimasortofheavyandasthmaticbreathing。
Turningsharply，hesawrisinggraduallyhigherandhigheruptheomnibusstepsatophatsoiledanddrippingwithsnow，andundertheshadowofitsbrimtheshort—sightedfaceandshakyshouldersofProfessordeWorms。Helethimselfintoaseatwithcharacteristiccare，andwrappedhimselfuptothechininthemackintoshrug。
Everymovementoftheoldman’stotteringfigureandvaguehands，everyuncertaingestureandpanic—strickenpause，seemedtoputitbeyondquestionthathewashelpless，thathewasinthelastimbecilityofthebody。Hemovedbyinches，helethimselfdownwithlittlegaspsofcaution。Andyet，unlessthephilosophicalentitiescalledtimeandspacehavenovestigeevenofapracticalexistence，itappearedquiteunquestionablethathehadrunaftertheomnibus。
Symesprangerectupontherockingcar，andafterstaringwildlyatthewintrysky，thatgrewgloomiereverymoment，herandownthesteps。Hehadrepressedanelementalimpulsetoleapovertheside。
Toobewilderedtolookbackortoreason，herushedintooneofthelittlecourtsatthesideofFleetStreetasarabbitrushesintoahole。Hehadavagueidea，ifthisincomprehensibleoldJack—in—the—boxwasreallypursuinghim，thatinthatlabyrinthoflittlestreetshecouldsoonthrowhimoffthescent。Hedivedinandoutofthosecrookedlanes，whichweremorelikecracksthanthoroughfares;andbythetimethathehadcompletedabouttwentyalternateanglesanddescribedanunthinkablepolygon，hepausedtolistenforanysoundofpursuit。Therewasnone;therecouldnotinanycasehavebeenmuch，forthelittlestreetswerethickwiththesoundlesssnow。SomewherebehindRedLionCourt，however，henoticedaplacewheresomeenergeticcitizenhadclearedawaythesnowforaspaceofabouttwentyyards，leavingthewet，glisteningcobble—stones。Hethoughtlittleofthisashepassedit，onlyplungingintoyetanotherarmofthemaze。Butwhenafewhundredyardsfartheronhestoodstillagaintolisten，hisheartstoodstillalso，forheheardfromthatspaceofruggedstonestheclinkingcrutchandlabouringfeetoftheinfernalcripple。
Theskyabovewasloadedwiththecloudsofsnow，leavingLondoninadarknessandoppressionprematureforthathouroftheevening。OneachsideofSymethewallsofthealleywereblindandfeatureless;therewasnolittlewindoworanykindofeve。Hefeltanewimpulsetobreakoutofthishiveofhouses，andtogetoncemoreintotheopenandlamp—litstreet。Yetherambledanddodgedforalongtimebeforehestruckthemainthoroughfare。
Whenhedidso，hestruckitmuchfartherupthanhehadfancied。
HecameoutintowhatseemedthevastandvoidofLudgateCircus，andsawSt。Paul’sCathedralsittinginthesky。
Atfirsthewasstartledtofindthesegreatroadssoempty，asifapestilencehadsweptthroughthecity。Thenhetoldhimselfthatsomedegreeofemptinesswasnatural;firstbecausethesnow—stormwasevendangerouslydeep，andsecondlybecauseitwasSunday。AndattheverywordSundayhebithislip;thewordwashenceforthforhirelikesomeindecentpun。Underthewhitefogofsnowhighupintheheaventhewholeatmosphereofthecitywasturnedtoaveryqueerkindofgreentwilight，asofmenunderthesea。ThesealedandsullensunsetbehindthedarkdomeofSt。Paul’shadinitsmokyandsinistercolours——coloursofsicklygreen，deadredordecayingbronze，thatwerejustbrightenoughtoemphasisethesolidwhitenessofthesnow。Butrightupagainstthesedrearycoloursrosetheblackbulkofthecathedral;anduponthetopofthecathedralwasarandomsplashandgreatstainofsnow，stillclingingastoanAlpinepeak。Ithadfallenaccidentally，butjustsofallenastohalfdrapethedomefromitsverytopmostpoint，andtopickoutinperfectsilverthegreatorbandthecross。WhenSymesawithesuddenlystraightenedhimself，andmadewithhissword—stickaninvoluntarysalute。
Heknewthatthatevilfigure，hisshadow，wascreepingquicklyorslowlybehindhim，andhedidnotcare。
Itseemedasymbolofhumanfaithandvalourthatwhiletheskiesweredarkeningthathighplaceoftheearthwasbright。Thedevilsmighthavecapturedheaven，buttheyhadnotyetcapturedthecross。Hehadanewimpulsetotearoutthesecretofthisdancing，jumpingandpursuingparalytic;andattheentranceofthecourtasitopenedupontheCircusheturned，stickinhand，tofacehispursuer。
ProfessordeWormscameslowlyroundthecorneroftheirregularalleybehindhim，hisunnaturalformoutlinedagainstalonelygas—lamp，irresistiblyrecallingthatveryimaginativefigureinthenurseryrhymes，\"thecrookedmanwhowentacrookedmile。\"Hereallylookedasifhehadbeentwistedoutofshapebythetortuousstreetshehadbeenthreading。Hecamenearerandnearer，thelamplightshiningonhisliftedspectacles，hislifted，patientface。SymewaitedforhimasSt。Georgewaitedforthedragon，asamanwaitsforafinalexplanationorfordeath。AndtheoldProfessorcamerightuptohimandpassedhimlikeatotalstranger，withoutevenablinkofhismournfuleyelids。
TherewassomethinginthissilentandunexpectedinnocencethatleftSymeinafinalfury。Theman’scolourlessfaceandmannerseemedtoassertthatthewholefollowinghadbeenanaccident。
Symewasgalvanisedwithanenergythatwassomethingbetweenbitternessandaburstofboyishderision。Hemadeawildgestureasiftoknocktheoldman’shatoff，calledoutsomethinglike\"Catchmeifyoucan，\"andwentracingawayacrossthewhite，openCircus。Concealmentwasimpossiblenow;andlookingbackoverhisshoulder，hecouldseetheblackfigureoftheoldgentlemancomingafterhimwithlong，swingingstrideslikeamanwinningamilerace。Buttheheaduponthatboundingbodywasstillpale，graveandprofessional，liketheheadofalectureruponthebodyofaharlequin。
ThisoutrageouschasespedacrossLudgateCircus，upLudgateHill，roundSt。Paul’sCathedral，alongCheapside，Symerememberingallthenightmareshehadeverknown。ThenSymebrokeawaytowardstheriver，andendedalmostdownbythedocks。Hesawtheyellowpanesofalow，lightedpublic—house，flunghimselfintoitandorderedbeer。Itwasafoultavern，sprinkledwithforeignsailors，aplacewhereopiummightbesmokedorknivesdrawn。
AmomentlaterProfessordeWormsenteredtheplace，satdowncarefully，andaskedforaglassofmilk。
CHAPTERVIII
THEPROFESSOREXPLAINS
WHENGabrielSymefoundhimselffinallyestablishedinachair，andoppositetohim，fixedandfinalalso，theliftedeyebrowsandleadeneyelidsoftheProfessor，hisfearsfullyreturned。Thisincomprehensiblemanfromthefiercecouncil，afterall，hadcertainlypursuedhim。Ifthemanhadonecharacterasaparalyticandanothercharacterasapursuer，theantithesismightmakehimmoreinteresting，butscarcelymoresoothing。ItwouldbeaverysmallcomfortthathecouldnotfindtheProfessorout，ifbysomeseriousaccidenttheProfessorshouldfindhimout。Heemptiedawholepewterpotofalebeforetheprofessorhadtouchedhismilk。
Onepossibility，however，kepthimhopefulandyethelpless。Itwasjustpossiblethatthisescapadesignifiedsomethingotherthanevenaslightsuspicionofhim。Perhapsitwassomeregularformorsign。Perhapsthefoolishscamperwassomesortoffriendlysignalthatheoughttohaveunderstood。Perhapsitwasaritual。PerhapsthenewThursdaywasalwayschasedalongCheapside，asthenewLordMayorisalwaysescortedalongit。Hewasjustselectingatentativeinquiry，whentheoldProfessoroppositesuddenlyandsimplycuthimshort。BeforeSymecouldaskthefirstdiplomaticquestion，theoldanarchisthadaskedsuddenly，withoutanysortofpreparation——
\"Areyouapoliceman？\"
WhateverelseSymehadexpected，hehadneverexpectedanythingsobrutalandactualasthis。Evenhisgreatpresenceofmindcouldonlymanageareplywithanairofratherblunderingjocularity。
\"Apoliceman？\"hesaid，laughingvaguely。\"Whatevermadeyouthinkofapolicemaninconnectionwithme？\"
\"Theprocesswassimpleenough，\"answeredtheProfessorpatiently。
\"Ithoughtyoulookedlikeapoliceman。Ithinksonow。\"
\"DidItakeapoliceman’shatbymistakeoutoftherestaurant？\"
askedSyme，smilingwildly。\"HaveIbyanychancegotanumberstuckontomesomewhere？Havemybootsgotthatwatchfullook？
WhymustIbeapoliceman？Do，doletmebeapostman。\"
TheoldProfessorshookhisheadwithagravitythatgavenohope，butSymeranonwithafeverishirony。
\"ButperhapsImisunderstoodthedelicaciesofyourGermanphilosophy。Perhapspolicemanisarelativeterm。Inanevolutionarysense，sir，theapefadessograduallyintothepoliceman，thatImyselfcanneverdetecttheshade。Themonkeyisonlythepolicemanthatmaybe。PerhapsamaidenladyonClaphamCommonisonlythepolicemanthatmighthavebeen。Idon’tmindbeingthepolicemanthatmighthavebeen。Idon’tmindbeinganythinginGermanthought。\"
\"Areyouinthepoliceservice？\"saidtheoldman，ignoringallSyme’simprovisedanddesperateraillery。\"Areyouadetective？\"
Syme’sheartturnedtostone，buthisfaceneverchanged。
\"Yoursuggestionisridiculous，\"hebegan。\"Whyonearth——\"
Theoldmanstruckhispalsiedhandpassionatelyonthericketytable，nearlybreakingit。
\"Didyouhearmeaskaplainquestion，youpatteringspy？\"heshriekedinahigh，crazyvoice。\"Areyou，orareyounot，apolicedetective？\"
\"No！\"answeredSyme，likeamanstandingonthehangman’sdrop。
\"Youswearit，\"saidtheoldman，leaningacrosstohim，hisdeadfacebecomingasitwereloathsomelyalive。\"Youswearit！Youswearit！Ifyouswearfalsely，willyoubedamned？Willyoubesurethatthedevildancesatyourfuneral？Willyouseethatthenightmaresitsonyourgrave？Willtherereallybenomistake？Youareananarchist，youareadynamiter！Aboveall，youarenotinanysenseadetective？YouarenotintheBritishpolice？\"
Heleanthisangularelbowfaracrossthetable，andputuphislargeloosehandlikeaflaptohisear。
\"IamnotintheBritishpolice，\"saidSymewithinsanecalm。