Ranson's Folly (Fiscle Part 3), Richard Harding Davis [best novel books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Richard Harding Davis
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And Of The Changes Which Had Come To Us Since We Had Last Met There.
As I Was Leaving The Next Morning For My Post At Petersburg, And Had
Many Letters To Write, I Told Him, About Ten O'clock, That I Must Get
Back To The Hotel, And He Sent Out His Servant To Call A Hansom.
"For The Next Quarter Of An Hour, As We Sat Talking, We Could Hear
The Cab-Whistle Sounding, Violently, From The Doorstep, But
Apparently With No Result.
"'It Cannot Be That The Cabmen Are On Strike,' My Friend Said, As He
Rose And Walked To The Window.
"He Pulled Back The Curtains And At Once Called To Me.
"'You Have Never Seen A London Fog, Have You?' He Asked. 'Well, Come
Here. This Is One Of The Best, Or, Rather, One Of The Worst, Of
Them.' I Joined Him At The Window, But I Could See Nothing. Had I Not
Known That The House Looked Out Upon The Street I Would Have Believed
That I Was Facing A Dead Wall. I Raised The Sash And Stretched Out My
Head, But Still I Could See Nothing. Even The Light Of The Street-
Lamps, Opposite, And In The Upper Windows Of The Barracks, Had Been
Smothered In The Yellow Mist. The Lights Of The Room In Which I Stood
Penetrated The Fog Only To The Distance Of A Few Inches From My Eyes.
"Below Me The Servant Was Still Sounding His Whistle, But I Could
Afford To Wait No Longer, And Told My Friend That I Would Try And
Find The Way To My Hotel On Foot. He Objected, But The Letters I Had
To Write Were For The Navy Department, And, Besides, I Had Always
Heard That To Be Out In A London Fog Was The Most Wonderful
Experience, And I Was Curious To Investigate One For Myself.
"My Friend Went With Me To His Front Door, And Laid Down A Course For
Me To Follow. I Was First To Walk Straight Across The Street To The
Brick Wall Of The Knightsbridge Barracks. I Was Then To Feel My Way
Along The Wall Until I Came To A Row Of Houses Set Back From The
Sidewalk. They Would Bring Me To A Cross Street. On The Other Side Of
This Street Was A Row Of Shops Which I Was To Follow Until They
Joined The Iron Railings Of Hyde Park. I Was To Keep To The Railings
Until I Reached The Gates At Hyde Park Corner, Where I Was To Lay A
Diagonal Course Across Piccadilly, And Tack In Toward The Railings Of
Green Park. At The End Of These Railings, Going East, I Would Find
The Walsingham, And My Own Hotel.
"To A Sailor The Course Did Not Seem Difficult, So I Bade My Friend
Good-Night And Walked Forward Until My Feet Touched The Paving. I
Continued Upon It Until I Reached The Curbing Of The Sidewalk. A Few
Steps Further, And My Hands Struck The Wall Of The Barracks. I Turned
In The Direction From Which I Had Just Come, And Saw A Square Of
Faint Light Cut In The Yellow Fog. I Shouted, 'All Right,' And The
Voice Of My Friend Answered, 'Good Luck To You.' The Light From His
Open Door Disappeared With A Bang, And I Was Left Alone In A
Dripping, Yellow Darkness. I Have Been In The Navy For Ten Years, But
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 115I Have Never Known Such A Fog As That Of Last Night, Not Even Among
The Icebergs Of Behring Sea. There One At Least Could See The Light
Of The Binnacle, But Last Night I Could Not Even Distinguish The Hand
By Which I Guided Myself Along The Barrack-Wall. At Sea A Fog Is A
Natural Phenomenon. It Is As Familiar As The Rainbow Which Follows A
Storm, It Is As Proper That A Fog Should Spread Upon The Waters As
That Steam Shall Rise From A Kettle. But A Fog Which Springs From The
Paved Streets, That Rolls Between Solid House-Fronts, That Forces
Cabs To Move At Half Speed, That Drowns Policemen And Extinguishes
The Electric Lights Of The Music-Hall, That To Me Is
Incomprehensible. It Is As Out Of Place As A Tidal Wave On Broadway.
"As I Felt My Way Along The Wall, I Encountered Other Men Who Were
Coming From The Opposite Direction, And Each Time When We Hailed Each
Other I Stepped Away From The Wall To Make Room For Them To Pass. But
The Third Time I Did This, When I Reached Out My Hand, The Wall Had
Disappeared, And The Further I Moved To Find It The Further I Seemed
To Be Sinking Into Space. I Had The Unpleasant Conviction That At Any
Moment I Might Step Over A Precipice. Since I Had Set Out, I Had
Heard No Traffic In The Street, And Now, Although I Listened Some
Minutes, I Could Only Distinguish The Occasional Footfalls Of
Pedestrians. Several Times I Called Aloud, And Once A Jocular
Gentleman Answered Me, But Only To Ask Me Where I Thought He Was, And
Then Even He Was Swallowed Up In The Silence. Just Above Me I Could
Make Out A Jet Of Gas Which I Guessed Came From A Street-Lamp, And I
Moved Over To That, And, While I Tried To Recover My Bearings, Kept
My Hand On The Iron Post. Except For This Nicker Of Gas, No Larger
Than The Tip Of My Finger, I Could Distinguish Nothing About Me. For
The Rest, The Mist Hung Between Me And The World Like A Damp And
Heavy Blanket.
"I Could Hear Voices, But I Could Not Tell From Whence They Came, And
The Scrape Of A Foot, Moving Cautiously, Or A Muffled Cry As Someone
Stumbled, Were The Only Sounds That Reached Me.
"I Decided That Until Someone Took Me In I Had Best Remain Where I
Was, And It Must Have Been For Ten Minutes That I Waited By The Lamp,
Straining My Ears And Hailing Distant Footfalls. In A House Near Me
Some People Were Dancing To The Music Of A Hungarian Band. I Even
Fancied I Could Hear The Windows Shake To The Rhythm Of Their Feet,
But I Could Not Make Out From Which Part Of The Compass The Sounds
Came. And Sometimes, As The Music Rose, It Seemed Close At My Hand,
And, Again, To Be Floating High In The Air Above My Head. Although I
Was Surrounded By Thousands Of Householders, I Was As Completely Lost
As Though I Had Been Set Down By Night In The Sahara Desert. There
Seemed To Be No Reason In Waiting Longer For An Escort, So I Again
Set Out, And At Once Bumped Against A Low, Iron Fence. At First I
Believed This To Be An Area Railing, But, On Following It, I Found
That It Stretched For A Long Distance, And That It Was Pierced At
Regular Intervals With Gates. I Was Standing, Uncertainly, With My
Hand On One Of These, When A Square Of Light Suddenly Opened In The
Night, And In It I Saw, As You See A Picture Thrown By A Biograph In
A Darkened Theatre, A Young Gentleman In Evening Dress, And, Back Of
Him, The Lights Of A Hall. I Guessed, From Its Elevation And Distance
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 116From The Sidewalk, That This Light Must Come From The Door Of A House
Set Back From The Street, And I Determined To Approach It And Ask The
Young Man To Tell Me Where I Was. But, In Fumbling With The Lock Of
The Gate, I Instinctively Bent My Head, And When I Raised It Again
The Door Had Partly Closed, Leaving Only A Narrow Shaft Of Light.
Whether The Young Man Had Re-Entered The House, Or Had Left It I
Could Not Tell, But I Hastened To Open The Gate, And As I Stepped
Forward I Found Myself Upon An Asphalt Walk. At The Same Instant
There Was The Sound Of Quick Steps Upon The Path, And Someone Rushed
Past Me. I Called To Him, But He Made No Reply, And I Heard The Gate
Click And The Footsteps Hurrying Away Upon The Sidewalk.
"Under Other Circumstances The Young Man's Rudeness, And His
Recklessness In Dashing So Hurriedly Through The Mist, Would Have
Struck Me As Peculiar, But Everything Was So Distorted By The Fog
That At The Moment I Did Not Consider It. The Door Was Still As He
Had Left It, Partly Open. I Went Up The Path, And, After Much
Fumbling, Found The Knob Of The Door-Bell And Gave It A Sharp Pull.
The Bell Answered Me From A Great Depth And Distance, But No Movement
Followed From Inside The House, And, Although I Pulled The Bell Again
And Again, I Could Hear Nothing Save The Dripping Of The Mist About
Me. I Was Anxious To Be On My Way, But Unless I Knew Where I Was
Going There Was Little Chance Of My Making Any Speed, And I Was
Determined That Until I Learned My Bearings I Would Not Venture Back
Into The Fog. So I Pushed The Door Open And Stepped Into The House.
"I Found Myself In A Long And Narrow Hall, Upon Which Doors Opened
From Either Side. At The End Of The Hall Was A Staircase With A
Balustrade Which Ended In A Sweeping Curve. The Balustrade Was
Covered With Heavy, Persian Rugs, And The Walls Of The Hall Were Also
Hung With Them. The Door On My Left Was Closed, But The One Nearer Me
On The Right Was Open, And, As I Stepped Opposite To It, I Saw That
It Was A Sort Of Reception Or Waiting-Room, And That It Was Empty.
The Door Below It Was Also Open, And, With The Idea That I Would
Surely Find Someone There, I Walked On Up The Hall. I Was In Evening
Dress, And I Felt I Did Not Look Like A Burglar, So I Had No Great
Fear That, Should I Encounter One Of The Inmates Of The House, He
Would Shoot Me On Sight. The Second Door In The Hall Opened Into A
Dining-Room. This Was Also Empty. One Person Had Been Dining At The
Table, But The Cloth Had Not Been Cleared Away, And A Flickering
Candle Showed Half-Filled Wineglasses And The Ashes Of Cigarettes.
The Greater Part Of The Room Was In Complete Darkness.
"By This Time I Had Grown Conscious Of The Fact That I Was Wandering
About In A Strange House, And That, Apparently, I Was Alone In It.
The Silence Of The Place Began To Try My Nerves, And In A Sudden,
Unexplainable Panic I Started For The Open Street. But As I Turned, I
Saw A Man Sitting On A Bench, Which The Curve Of The Balustrade Had
Hidden From Me. His Eyes Were Shut, And He Was Sleeping Soundly.
"The Moment Before I Had Been Bewildered Because I Could See No One,
But At Sight Of This Man I Was Much More Bewildered.
"He Was A Very Large Man, A Giant In Height, With Long, Yellow Hair,
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