The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 30, 1898, Page 24

24 CO CALL, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1898 by H. G. Wells.) R. BE as the senior part- ner in the firm of Bessel, Hart Brown of Paul's church- and for many years he was known among those inter- ested in f ical research as a liberal minded and consclentious investigator. He we n unmarried man, i ad-of living in the suburbs after | class he occupied rooms | ar Piccadilly. -He was ted in the ques d Appari in November, | experi- | At a prearrang t-himself i ind St rooms in cpnotism., could he attempted fi ze hims nd then to project | T tom of the living” pace of nearl s apartments s tried with- | but on the ppari- | is room. ithough e noticed | ttempt | aph any phan- ent had not the the to inform Mr. Beusel's | to the wmsght, rder 2, ) smashed Fits neck had been broken pot on the bureau and | tagonal *occasional | bronze statuette | books had been | down the prim- | carried tc > of affairs. 5 it,” he sal veying the lunatic confu | sion. “I didn’t know of ir. Bes- nt aid | b | own premis i M rose paper of the wall inky fingers had | been drawn. Then, full of a vague sense of calamity, he_sought the porter at the entrance to the dge. ‘‘Where is Mr. Bessel?” he aske Do you know that all the furniture is broken in Mr. Bessel's room?” Th ter said nothing, went at once to Mr. Bessels artment sel’s gone off. He's ma He then proceeded to tell Mr. Vincent | that about half an hour previously, that is to say, about the time of Mr. Bessel's apparition in Mr. Vincent's rooms, the missing gentles an had rushed out of the into Vigo of the Albany street, and with disordered hair, and nished in the direction of Bond | me!” sald Mr. Vincent. *Tut,| He could think of nothing | 2 el did not return, and at last | Mr.. Vincent, having done some more | helpless staring, and having addressed a £ uiry and left it in a con \ on the bureau, returned perplexed state of mind to s in Staple Inn. and For a space he lay ake trem bling in the darkne: sessed with that v unacco! ble terror of unknown that comes out of dream: bravest men. But at las f, and turned over and in, only for the dream to strong conviction erwhelming dis- | t sleep was no longer possible. as persuaded that his friend had rushed out to some dire calamity. For a time he-lay reasoning Vainly against this belief, and at last he gave way to it. He arose, against all rea- son, lit the gas and dressed .t _out through the deserted —stréets—deserted r so and @ for a noiseless policeman {he early news carts, for it was nearly half-past 2 in the morning—to Vigo | Street, to inquire if Mr. Bessel had re- turned. ‘l ©000000000000000000000000000000000000 AMERICANS - IN WAR. As Viewed BY A GERMAN MILITARY EXPERT. ENERA. VON BOGUSLAWS-| K1, in the Berlin National Zei- tung, gives a series of critical € s on the Spanish-American | war. This eminent military | critic on the whole thinks that the Amerjcan army did not cover itself vith glory, although it did quite as well as could have been expected. At any rate -the Americans.proved themselves | a vigorous people, whose-failures were due to thelr military system rather than to their character. His remarks on the attitude of the Spaniards are more scathing. Not only did the Span- ish officers blunder in every particular, | but they exhibited a want of courage | which reminded him of that pe.tod of deep humiliation ever before the eyes of a Prussian officer—the war of 1806. ‘We summarize General Boguslawski's remarks as follow 1t is a healthy theory which led Mar- ghal Blanco to mass 3000 to 4000 men near threatened points; but m practice one is inclined to attempt too much. Besides, it is very difficult- to move troops in Cuba during the rainy season. But whatever the cause, it is not easy | to see wWhy so few troops were near Santiago, for an attack was to be ex- pected there, if only because the in- surgents were there strongest fn num- ber. The Americans could easily have been held near Santiago, especlally as they were lacking in cavalry, although the insurgents in some measure sup- plied this want. It seems incomprehensible why Ad- | miral Camara did not go to Cuba, where his squadron would have evened | up matters to some extent. His trip to Port Said was absolutely a tactical mistake. The destruction of Cervera’s ships does not prove that these vessels were not fitted for their work. Their armor was lighter, their artillery in- ferfor to that of the Americans. In spite of these disadvantages it should have been possible for the Spaniards to ram the Americans, if the former had been spirited enough. The spirit of a Nelson must tell in the future as well as in the past. Tegethoff, with his wooden vessels, was probably in a worse position at Lissa than was Cer- vera in his fight against the Ameri- | and | That the Spaniards have courage, en- | cans. Yet he rammed and sank the | flagship of the Itaijans. 1 It cannot be said that the prepara- | tions of the Americans during the first | three months of the war deserve to be | called excellent or that they achieved brilliant results. But it would not be | just to blame them for their want o!‘ | Success, for war in Cuba is very differ- ent from war in a more healthy region | they must have lost heavily | through fevers. Certain it is that they | would have been In a very disagreeable position if Santiago had held out some- what longer. Unless General Toral was out of am- | munition and provisions and had been | ordered to surrender, his surrender is not compatible with military honor and | a sense of duty: Reasons of humanity, | the desire to prevent bloodshed, etc., may not influence an able military commangder. Very often they are only mentioned to conceal weakness and want of decision, as unfortunately the history of Prussia shows, when, in 1806, a number of commandants surrendered to Napoleon I. Not only military glory but substantial advantages could have been reaped if Santiago had followed the example of Saragossa. The long resistance of Kolberg, Kosel, Graudenz | and Danzig was of great value to Prus- sia. No doubt the Americans possess courage, endurance and physical strength in a large degree. Esprit de corps, obedience and punctuality, all very necessary military attributes— | they cannot acquire in time of peace with their present system; and with- out these they cannot well realize their wish for expansion, however much their national pride may have risen. | durance and patriotism they have shown often enough. but their parlia- mentary institutions undoubtedly hurt | the army. | Spain has been advised to conclude peace, and for the sake of trade and industry peace is devoutly to be wished. Yet it should not be forgotten that posterity judges a nation’s right to exist solely by its resistapce in war, and, even if the war is unlucky, by the fortitude with which it is borne. The Spaniards are not to be blamed if they are unwilling to evacuate a province in which they have 100,000 men who have not yet been beaten, and even their Government is bound to defend their warlike honor. Only a people who are great in adversity need IT WAS MR BESSEL TRANSFIGURED. | jeye on me and my horse. not give up the hope of better times in the future. ol there I | to charge him. But he never got there. As he was golng | down Long Acre some unaccountable im- pulse turned him aside out of that street toward Covent Garden, which was just | waking to its nocturnal acitiviti He saw the market in front of him, a queer | effect of glowing yellow lights and busy | black figures. became aware of a shouting and perceived a figure turn the corner by the hotel and run swiftly to- ward him. He knew at once that it w Mr. Bessel. But it was Mr. Bessel trans figured. He was hatless and disheveled his collar wes torn open, he grdsped bone-handled walking cane by the ferule | end, and his mouth was pulled awry. He | ran’ with aglle strides and_very rapidly. Their encounter was the affair of an in- stant. “Bessel!” cried Vincent. The running man gave no sign of recog- | nition, either of Mr. Vincent or of his own name. Instead, he cut at his friend sav- agely with the stick, hitting him in_the face, within an inch of the eve. Mr. Vin- | cent, stunned and astonished, staggered | back, lost his footing and fell heavily on | the pavement. It seemed to him that Mr. Bessel leaped over him as he fell. When he looked again Mr. Bessel had vanished | and a poticeman and a number of garden porters and salesmen were rushing past | toward Long Acre in hot pursuit. With the assistance of several garden orters—for the whole street was speed- | ly alive with running people—Mr. Vincent | struggled to his feet. He at once became | the center of a crowd greedy to sec his | injury. A multitude of volces competed | to reassure him of his safety, and then | 1o tell him of the behavior of {he madman, | 4s they regarded Mr. Bessel. He bad sud- appeared in the piddie of the mar- ¥ screaming “Life! Life!” striking left and right with a blood-stained walk- | ing stick, and dancing and shouting_with | laughter at each successful blow. A lad and two women had broken heads, and he had smashed a man’s wrist, a little child | had been knocked insensible, and for a time he had driven every one before him, | so furious and resolute had his behavior | been. Then he had made a raid upon a | cofee stall, hurled its paraffine flare through the window of the postoffice and | fled laughing, after stunning the foremost | of the two policemen who had the pluck oooooooooooocooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooopooooooooooo VANDERBILT, BONNER A OTHER FAMOUS OLD ROAD DRIVERS. Special to the Sunday Call. THOUGHT a good deal of Dexter,” he said, “but I thought more of his sire, Fuller George. I have owned res of good lively steppers, but Fuller George was the best one of them all. He was true as steel. His temper was perfect. He was never in bad condition. He was positively the prettiest horse I ever saw. Best of all, he was never beaten on the road. “I shall never forget the day he out- trotted Small Hopes, driven on old Harlem lane by Commodore Vander- bilt. Any old-timer will tell you that Small Hopes was one of the crack step- pers of his day, his track record being 2:18%. My Fuller George had no track record. None of my horses have been track horses, since my only object in owning fast horses has been that I might, win pleasure and health by driv- ing them. But Fuller George was a better footer than Small Hopes, as I proved to the commodore one pleasant June morning about twenty-five years ago. “A good many of ‘the commodore’s friends had told him that Small Hopes was all right, but he wasn’t in the same class as Fuller George. Vander- bilt pooh-poohed at that, of course. But all the same, he understood full well that his horse must beat mine or be beaten sooner or later, and so he was on the lookout for me. “As I drove down the lane that morning I saw the commodore sitting up stiff and straight behind his pride and joy, and I noticed that he had his Small Hopes had his eye peeled, too. High- bred horses know when their drivers are getting ready to speed them as well as the drivers do, and Small Hopes was perfectly aware that he was about to be tested. I was ready, of course, and so was my horse. But, as I wished to beat the commodore in my own way, I let him drive up alongside me and get almost a length ahead. “When the hind wheels of his wagon were about even with Fuller George's head I stirred him up a little. Not by velling at him or by using the whip. I just telegraphed along the reins by a slight pressure of the left little fin- ger. My horse knew what that meant, and from that on the cemmodore could not increase the lead. The race was fairly begun at One Hundred and Forty-fifth street and it lasted till we reached One Hundred and Twenty-fifth —just a mile. “The old Harlem clubhouse stood at One Hundred and Thirty-third street, and a_short time before we arrived | mitted between 12 | ing, and between those hours, and, tndced, | cent, T | gentleman before, repaired to him forth- It appeared to him indisputable that Mr. Bessel must have gone violently mad in the midst of his experiment in thought transference, but why that should make him appear with a sad white face in Mr. | Vincent’s dreams seemed a_ problem be- yond solution. He racked his brains in vain to explain this. It seemed to him }at last that not simply Mr. Bessel but the order of things must be insane. About dawn his physical fatigue assert- ed itself and he went to bed and slept | at last in spite of his dreaming. Mr. Vin- cent’s perplexities, to which the fever of his brulse added fresh irritation, became at last Intolerable, and, after afruitless visit to the Albany, he went down to St. Paul's churchyard, to Mr. Hart, Mr. Be sel's partner, ‘and,’ so far as Mr. Vincent knew, his nearest'friend. learn that Mr. He was surprised to Hart, althou he knew nothing of the outbreak, had also been disturbed by a vision, the very vision that Mr. Vincent had seen, Mr. Bessel, white dand di heveled, 'pleading earnestly by his ge tures for help. That was hi of the import of his signs. "I was just going to look him UQ in the Albany when you arrived,” said Mr. Hart. “I was so sure of something being wrong with him."” As the outcome of their consultation the two %gn!lemen decided to inquire at Scotland Yard for news of their missing fflend’; “He is bound to be laid by the heelg,” said Mr. Hart. ‘‘He can’t go on at that pace for long.” But the police au- thorities had not laid Mr. Bessel by the heels. They confirmed Mr. Vincent's over-night experiences and added fresh some of an even graver those he knew—a list of s along the upper.half of Tottenham Court road, an attack upon a policeman in Hampstead road and atro- cious assaults upon a number of peaceful citizens. All these outrages were com- n 12:30 and 1:45 in the morn- m the very moment of Mr. 'Bessel's first rush from his rooms at 9:30 in the evening, they could trace the deepening violence of his fantastic career. For the last hour at least, from before 1, that is, until 1:45, he had run amuck through London, eluding with amazing agility every effort to stop or capture him. Nothing of his subsequent doings came to_light in spite of the keenest inquiry. _Here was a fresh astonishment for Mr. Vincent. He had found considerable com- fort in Mr. Hart's conviction, “He bound to be laid by the heels before long.” and in that assurance he had been able to_suspend his mental perplexitie It was only on_the following day, Sun- day, that Mr. Vincent thought of the remarkable stories of Mrs. Bullock, the medium, who was then attracting atten- tion for the first time in London. He de- termined to_consuit her. She was stop- ping at the house of that well-known in- quirer, Dr. Wilson Paget, and Mr. Vin- although he had r met_ that with with the intention of invoking her help. But scarcely had he mentioned the name of Bessel when Dr. Paget inter: rupted him. “Last night—just at the end,” he said, ‘“‘we had a communication.” He left the room and returned with a slate on which were certain words writ- ten in a handwriting shaky indeed, but indi 'm?mbly the handwriting of Mr. el How did you get this?” said Mr. Vin- cent. *“Do you mean—?’ “We got it ls night, nterruptions from Mr. xplain how the . It appears Bullock passes . her eyes rc writing had been obtal that in her seances Mrs, into a condition of tr: ing up in a strance y under her e; lids and her body becoming rigid. then begins to talk very rapidly, u in voices other than her own. At the same time both of her hands may be- come active, and if slates and penclls are provided they will then write messages simultaneously with and quite independ- ently of the flow of words from her mouth. By many she Is considered an even more remarkable medium than celebrated Mrs. Piper. It these messages, the one left hand, that Mr. Vincent now ha fore him. It cons d of eight w written disconnectedly. “George B ~...trial excavn....Baker st....help, starvation.” Curlously enough, neither Dr. Paget nor the two other inquirers who were present had heard of the dis- appearance of Mr. Bes: he news of it appeared only In the evening papers of Saturday—and they had put the message aside with many others of a vague and enigmatical sort that Mrs. Bullock had from time to time delivered. When Dr. Paget heard Mr. Vincent's story he gave himself at once with great energy to the ‘,.Iu suit of this clew to the discovery of Mr. Bessel. It would serve no useful purpose here to describe the in- quiries of Mr. Vincent and himself; suffice it that the clew was a genuine one and that Mr. Bessel was actually discovered by its aid. He was found at the bottom of a de- tached shaft which had been sunk and abandoned at the commencement of the work for the new electric railway near Baker-street station. His arm and leg and two ribs were broken. The shaft is pro- tected by a boarding nearly twenty feet high, a over this, incredible as it again. inch, the Then he began to gain, inch by inch by inch. Just in front of clubhouse we were going a 2:18 and you could have covered both es with a blanket, as the reporters say. Vanderbilt looked across at me. I telegraphed Fuller George again and he jogged by easily. Then the com- modore began to call on Small Hopes, and the horse went right up in the air. There was quite a crowd at the club- house and every man in it howled till he was hoarse. The commodore was so sore about it that he never cared to mentlon the circumstance. “Commodore Vanderbilt, though a skilled reinsman, was the most reck- less driver on the road in the old Har- lem lane days, and his collisions with other drivers were frequent. “The narrowest escape of my life was when the commodore ran into me. 1 was driving a single horse. He was driving Mountain Maid and Mountain Boy. He was going up the lane and 1 was coming down. I first saw him whizzing along like a streak of greased lightning two or three blocks away, his horses swaying from side to side. As near as I could tell he was due to be on my side of the road about the time we were to meet and I looked for trouble. So did my horse, and it was hard work to keep him from turning short about and upsetting me right there. The crash came in less time after that than I can tell you of it, but I did the best I could by swinging my horse so that he wouldn’t be pierced by the pole of the commodore’s wagon. The way I fixed things my horse and Mountain Boy came together so hard that it knocked the breath out of both of them. “Vanderbilt's rig was all smashed up and I thought the commodore was killed, sure. He went right down among the horses, head first, with his feet in the air, and yelling like a wild Indian. The shock knocked him senseless. The wagon was not damaged beyond the springing of the front axletree and my horse was injured so little that I was able to drive him home. They carried the cominodore to the clubhouse near by and brought him to. As soon as he opened his eyes he asked for me. ‘“‘Oh, Fuller has driven home,’ they told him. “What did he say? Nothing, He wasn't a man of many words at any time, and he had some hard thinking to do just then. He never spoke about the accident to me.” Mr. Fuller is almost the sole active elegraphed to Fuller George survivor of the famous drivers on the said Dr. Paget. | seems, Mr. Bessel, a stout, middle-aged gentleman, must have scrambled in oraer to fall down the shaft. He was saturated in_colza oil, and the smashed tin lay be- extinguished by his fall. And his mad- ness had passed from him altogether. But he was, of course, terribly enfee- bled, and at the sight of his rescuers he gave way to hysterical weeping. In view of the deplorable state of his flat he was taken to the house of Dr. Hatton in Upper Baker street. Here he was subjected to a sensilive treatment, and anything that might recall the violent crisls through which he had passed was carefully avoided. But on the second day he volunteersd a statement. Since that occasion Mr. Bessel has at several times repeated this statement—to | myself among other people—varying the detalls as the narrator of real experi- but never by any | ence always does mself in any par- | chance contradicting hi ticular. And the statement he makes Is | in_substance as follows: In order to understand it clearly it is necessary to go back to his experiments With Mr. Vincent before his remarkable | attack. Mr. Bessel's first attempts at self-projection, in his experiments with Mr. Vincent, were, as the reader will re- member, unsuccessful. But throu h all of them he was concentrating his ower and will upon getting out of the ody, “willing it with all my might,” he At last, almost against expectation, And Mr. Bessel asserts did_actually by an body and pass into me_success. that he, being alive, effort of will leave his « some place or state outside this world. The release was, he asserts, instanta- neous. ‘At one moment I was seated in | my chair, with my eyes tij htly shut, my :)mnds gripping the arms o the chair, do- [ing_all I coufi] to concentrate my mind on Vincent, and then I perceived myself outside my body—saw my body near me, but certainly not containing me, with the hands relaxln% and the head drooping for- ward on the breast.” Nothing shakes him in his assurance of that release, and he describes in a quite matter-of-fact way the new sensation he xperienced. He felt he had become im- palpable, so much he had expected, but Paped Hot expected to find himself enor- mously large. So, however, it would seem he became. “I was a great cloud—it I may express it that way—anchored to my body. It appeared to me at first as if 1 had discovered a greater self, of which the consclous being in my brain was ogllY a little part. I saw the Albany and Pic- cadilly and Regent street and _all the rooms and places in the houses, Very min= ond very bright and distinct, spread out below like a little city seen from a balloon, Every now and then vague Shapes like drifting wreaths of smoke made the vision a little indistinct, but at | first I paid little heed to them. The thing | that astonished me most, and which as- tonishes me still, is that I saw quilf- dis-_ tinetly the insides of the houses as well as the streets, saw little people dining and talking in the private houses, men and Women dining, playing billiards and drinking in restaurants and hotels and Several places of entertainment crammed with people. It was like watching the affairs of a gl hive.”” Such were Bessel’s exact words, as I took them down when he told me the story. Quite forgetful of Mr. Vincent, he remained for a space observing these things. Impelled by curiosity, he says, he stooped down and with the shadowy arm he found himself possessed of at-‘ tempted to touch a man walking along Vigo street. But he could not do so, al- though his finger seemed to pass through | the man. Something prevented his doing but what it was he finds it hard to describe. He compares the obstacle to a sheet of gla “I felt as “when_{t goes | its reflection in again on the oc kitten may feel,” he said, | mirror. Again and sion when I heard him tell this story Mr. Bessel returned to that comparison of the sheet of glass. Yet it was not altogether a precise compari- because, as the reader will speedily there were interruptions of this gen- ; impermeable resistance, means of getting through the barrier to the ma- terial world again. But naturally there is a very great difficulty in expressing thes unprecedented impressions in the lan of everyday experience. a son, | guage | ’A thing that impressed him instantly and which weighed upon him throug of this place—he was in a world without sound. At first Mr. Bessel's mental state was an unemotional wonder. His thought chiefly conecrned himself with where he Mmight be. He was out of the body— out of his material body, at any rate— but that was not all. He believes, and T for one believe also, that he was some- | where out of space, as we understand it, altogether. By a strenuous effort of Will he had passed out of his body into a world beyond this world, a world un- dreamt of, vet lying so close to it and so strangely situated with regard to it, that all things on this earth are clear- Iy visible both from without and from Wwithin in this other world about us. a Jong time, alization occupied his mind to the exclu- Sion of all other matters, and then he re- | called the engagement with Mr. Vincent | to which this astonishing experience was | after all but a prelude. He turned his mind to locomotion in this new body in which he found himself. For a time he was unable to shift from his attachment to his earthly car- For a time this new, strange, cloud ass. {iody of his simply swayed, contracted, expanded, ed and writhed with his ef- forts to free himself, and then quite sud- denly the link that bound him snapped. For n moment everything was hidden by what appeared to be whirling spheres of dark vapor, and then through a mo- hentary gap he saw his drooping body colla] limply, saw his lifeless head drop sideways and found he was driving along like a huge cloud in a strange place of shadowy clouds that had the luminous in- tricacy of London spread like a model be- he was aware that the fluctuat- about him was something more low. But now ing vapor nd lane in its palmiest days. TRassell Sage used to drive there a good deal then, and so did the Harpers and Robert Boaner. But the driving Harpers, like Commodcre Vanderbilt, have long been dead. Sage is still with us in the flesh, but his present driving is tame in com- parison with that of the old times. Bonner is alive, too, but he doesn’t drive much on Manhattan Island nowadays. “Bonner was one of the best drivers | I ever knew,” says Mr. Fuller, “and he | drove for pure pleasure. But a more awkward driver never handled the rib- bons. That was because he didn't learn | to drive when he was young. He never could hold his hands gracefully. All the same, the most impressive sight 1 remember on the lane was Bonner driv- side him, but luckily the flame had been | For | as it seemed to him, this res | himself | for the first time to pat| | this, and all about him out all this experience, was the stillness. | | | a | his cherished furniture about in the mad ing Peerless over its whole length one | | day with Henry Ward Beecher an the | | seat beside him. Peerless was in mighty | T - ne/ &, %2 4 the ground in record-breaking time. Bonner was clearly intoxicated with de- | light as the splendid horse camé dow | the road at whirlwind speed. Beecher's face fairly glowed with excitement. His eyes were like stars and his long gray hair floated out in the breeze like the pennant of a crack man-of-war going at full speed in a gale of wind, 54 than vapor, and the temerarious excite ment of his first essay was shot with fear. Kor e percelved, at first_indistinctly and then suddenly very clearly, that he was surrounded by faces; that each roll and cofl of the seeming cloud stuft was a face. And such faces! Faces of thin shadow, faces of gaseous tenuity. Faces like those faces that glare with intolerable strange- ness upon the sleeper in the evil hours of his dreams. Evil, greedy eyes that were full of a covetous curfosity, faces with knit brows and_ snarling, smiling lips: their vague hands clutched at Mr. Bessel as he passed and the rest of their bodies were _but a vague, elusive streak of trail- ing darkne: Never a word they said, never a sound from the mouths that seemed to gibber. All about him they ressed in that dreamy silence, passing reely through the dim mistiness that was his body, gathering ever more numerously about him. And the shadowy Mr. Bessel, now suddenly fear-stricken, drove mistily through the silent, active multitude of eyes and clutching hands. So inhuman were these faces, 80 ma- lignant their staring eyes, and shadowy clawing gestures, that it did not occur to Mr. Bessel to attempt intercourse with these drifing creatures. Idiot phantoms, they seemed, children of vain desire, be- ings unborn and forbidden the boon of being, whose only expression and ges- tures told of the envy and craving for life that was their one link with exist- ence. It says much for his resolution that amid the swarming cloud of these noise- less spirits of evil, he could stili ‘think of Mr. Vincent. He made a violent effort of will and found himself, he knew not how, stooping toward Staple Inn, saw Vincent sitting attentive and alert in his arm- chair by the fire. And clustering also about him, as they clustered ever about all that -lives and breathes, was another multitude of these vain volceless shadows, longing, desiring, seeking some loophole into life. For a space Mr. Bessel sought Ineffect- ualy. to attract his friend’s attention. He tried to get in front of his eyes, to move the objects in his room, to touch him. But Mr. Vincent remained unmoved, ig- norant of the being that was so close to his own. The strange something that Mr. Bessel has compared to a sheet of glass separated them impermeably. And at last Mr. Bessel did a desperate thing. I have told how' that in some strange way he could see not only the outside of a man, as we see him, but within, He extended his shadowy hand, and thrust his vague black fingers, as it seemed, through the heedless brain. Then suddenly Mr. Vincent started like a man who recalls his attention from wandering thoughts, and it seemed to Mr. Bessel that a little dark-red body, situated in the middle of Mr. Vincent's brain, swelled and glowed as he did so. Since that experience he has been shown anatomical figures of the brain, and he knows now that this is that useless struc- as doctors call it, the pineal eye. strange as it seem to many, we have deep in our brains, where it can- not possibly see any earthiy light, an eye. At the time this, with the rest of the internal anatomy of the brain, was quite new to him. At the sight of its changed appearance, however, he thrust forth his finger, and, rather fearful still of the consequenc touched this littie And Ir. Vincent started, that he wi stant it came to Mr. sel_that evil had happened to his body, and behold! a great wind blew through all that world of shalows and tore him away. So strong was this persuasion that he thought no more of Mr. Vincent, but turned about forthwith, and all the countless faces drove back with him like leaves betore a gale. But he returned too late. In an instant he saw th ing indeed like the bod dead—had arisen, had arisen by of some strength and will beyond his own. virtue stretching its and the against him then he pane of again, himself may, But stooped toward it. glass had closed and he was foiled. passionately against the spirits of evil grinned and pointed and mocked. He gave way to furious anger. He com- pares himself to a bird that has fluttered into a room and is beating at the win- dow pane that holds it back from free. He beat om. And behold! the little body that had once been his was dancing with delight. He saw it shouting, though he could not hear its shouts, he saw the violence of movements grow. He watched it fil delight of existence, rend his books apart, smash bottles, drink heedlessly from the jagged fragments, leap and Smite, In a passionate acceptance of living. He | watched these actions in paralyzed as- | toishment. Then once m he_ hurled himself against the impassable barrier, and then, with all that crew of mocking ghosts about him, hurried back in dire | confusion to Vincent to tell him of the outrage that had come upon hir. But_the brain of Vincent was now minds of Mr. Vincent and his Hart. Each, as we know, his efforts. But the language that mi his situation to these h ss the gulf he did not know, I ble fingers groped vainly and powerle in their brains. Onc indeed, as we already told, he W Vincent aside from his path, encountered the but he could not m the thing that had ha able to draw any help from that counter. .* * * All through these hours the persuasion was overwhelming in Mr. esoel's mind that presently the body would be killed by its furious tenant, and ake him ppened, he ¥ he would have -main in this low forevermore. So that thos long hours were a growing agony of fear. And ever e hurried to and fro in his ineffectual %:S«S'zpm»m. innumerable_spirits of that World about him mobbed him and con- fused his mind. And ever an envious ap. planding - multitude poured after their Puccesstul fellow as he went upon his glorious careet. 4 BloTlous i1t would seem must be the life of these bodyless things of this world that is the shadow of our world. Ever they watch, coveting a way into a mortal body in order that they may descend, as furies #ind frenzies, as the violent lusts and mad strange impulses, rejolcing in the body they have won. For Mr. Bessel Was mot the only human soul in that place. Witness the fact that he met first Phe. and afterward several shadows of men, men like himself, it seemed, who had lost their bodies even it may be as he had lost his, and wandered despalring in that lost world that is nefther life nor death. They could not speak because that world is silent, yet he knew them for men, because of their dim human bodies and because of the sadness of their fa But how they had come into that wc he could not tell, nor where the they had lost might be, whether they still roved about the earth, or whet they were closed forever in death agai return. That they were the spirits of t} dead neither he nor I believe. But D: Wilson Paget thinks they are the ra tional souls of men who are lost in mad- ness on the earth. At last Mr. Bessel chanced upon a place where a' little crowd of such disembodied siient creatures was gathered, and thrust- ing through them he saw below a bright- Iy lit room and four or five quiet gentle- men and a woman, a stoutish woman dressed in black alpaca, and sitting awk- wardly in a chair with her head thrown back. He k her from her portraits to be Mr I.ercm.-xl that tracts her brain glowed : seen the Vincent glow. sometimes it was a broad and sometimes merely faint twilight spot, and it shifted slowly about her brain. She kept on talking and writing with one hand. And Mr. Bessel saw that the crowding shadows of men and a great mult of the of that 4 land, striving and thrusting to touch tt ed reglons of her brain. As one gal her brain or another was thrust aw her -voice and the writing of her changed. So that what she sald w. orderly and confused for the most part; v 4 fragm . soul's me ; now a of wne fancies Then Mr. Bes spoke for the spirit rd touch of her, and he began to e very furiously toward her. on the outside of the crowd, and t reach her, and at went away to meanwhile to Strugi he wa: at times he could r last growing anxious he find what had happened his body. For a long time he went to and fro seeking it in vain and fearing that it must have been killed, and then he found it at the bottom of the shaft in Baker street, writhing furlously and cursing With pain. Its legs and an arm ribs had been broken by |ts fall over the evil spirit w: by fime had been so short and becaus pain—mak violent . movements casting his_body. about. g ‘And at that Mr. Bessel returned with redoubled earnestness to the the seance was going on, and t himself within sight of the place he saw one of the men Who Stood About the medium looking at his watch as if he meant that the presently end. At that a gr of the shadows who had been turned away h gestures of But the thought that the 1y most over only made Mr. Be carnest and he struggled s 3 his will against the others that pres he gained the. woman’s brain. It chancei (hat just at that moment it glowed very brightly and in that instant she wrote ths message that Dr. W 2 And then the other shado he had thru At striving de of evil spi about him ¥ Bissel away from-her and for all the rest of the seance. he could regain her no more. 'So_he went back and watched through the long hours at the bottom of the shaft, closed against apparitions, and the dis- embodied Mr. Bessel pu ed him in vain as_he hurried out into Holborn to call a cab. Foiled and ‘error-stricken, Mr. Bessel swept back again to find his dese- crated body whooping in a glorious frenzy down the Burlh\gl‘nn.l\rbflde_ i And now the attentive reader begins to understand Mr. Bessel's interpretation of the first part of this strange story. The being whose frantic rush through Lon- don had inflicted so much injury and dis- aster had indeed been Mr. Bessel's body but it was not Mr. Bessel. It was an evi] spirit out of that strange world beyond | existence, into which Mr. Bessel had so Tashly ventured. For twenty hours it | held possession of him, and for all those twenty hours the dispossessed spirit body | of Mr. Bessel was going to and fro in that unheard of middle world of shadows, | seeking help in vain. 3 'wlln & iy ‘‘Beecher was writing for the - pendgnt at that time and lhenl:git week’s issue had an article from his pen defending the speeding of horses. It was really a description of that drive down the lane behind Peerless, and it was such a beautiful piece of writing that I cut it out and preserved it. Once in & while I hunt it up and read it over, | world of men. where the evil spirit lay in the s body it had maimed, writhing and cur: and weeping and groaning and lear: the lesson of pain. And toward dawn t thing he had waited for happened brain glowed brightly and the evil came out, and Mr. Bessel entered body he had feared he should never ¢ again. s he did so the silence, the I ing silence, ended, he heard the tumul of traffic_and -the voices of pe head, and: that st shadow of - our he dark, silent = shadows o shadows of desire and £ lost men vanished clean a: He lay there for the space of about three hours before he was found. And spite of the pain and suffering of his wounds and of the dim, damp place in which he lay, in spite of the tears wrung from him by his physical distress, his heart was full of gladness to know that he was back once more in the kindly 000000000000VLO0OO0OOOQRPOCOO0OO0OO00 0000000 Lawson W. Fuller, the Veteran Reinsman From a Photograph by Taber. and when I do I see a mental picture in which Peerless and Bonner and Beecher are the central figures.” Mr. Fuller has been driving over the roads of Manhattan Island for more than forty-five years and computes that in that time he has driven 475,000 miles. In the forty-five years he has auflcre_d siXx runaways, not counting such incidents as his collision with Commodore Vanderbilt. The best way to stop a runaway team, Mr. Fuller says, 1s to throw the horses. & I learned that trick,” he explained, ‘when a boy. I was champion wrestler in the county of Franklin, Vt., where I hail from,