suddenly recalled the eidolon, or projected presence, or whatever the thing might be. More confounded and disturbed than ever, my friend retired to bed, but he was too much excited to sleep. He had much the feeling that one fancies a prince to have over whose heritage distant armies are contending, while he in forced inaction awaits the result. No clue had been given which enabled him to reach a solution of the mystery that involved him, and nothing further transpired during the night to render matters any plainer. On the following afternoon he was obliged to start for Boston on business. As he was elbowing his way through the crowd in the Grand Central station, he heard at his ear the[154] well known voice of the “Great Mogul,” speaking as usual in the unknown tongue which Vantine understood, yet the identity of which he had never established. There was no visible appearance this time, and the voice, although distinctly audible, seemed to come from a great distance. [154] “Great Master,” the voice said, “they are beheading me. All is lost.” “It would be some comfort,” John Vantine said, rather irritably, when he confided this strange story to me, “to know what was lost. It would have been uncommonly civil of the ‘Great Mogul’ to be a little more definite in his information. If the poor fellow lost his head in my service I am profoundly grateful, of course; but precious little good does it do me. Do you think the Psychical Society would undertake the job of discovering in what part of the universe I am rightfully dubbed the Great Master and that young rascal in the nursery is a prince! Unless they can do something, I’m afraid I shall be a half-starved New York lawyer to the end of the chapter.” To which I had nothing satisfactory to answer. [155] [155] Interlude Fourth. THE RADIATOR. Interlude Fourth. [156][157]
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