Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 4).djvu/670

 lav the remains of a roll of the cloth, quite yellow. Then I went down again to a cupboard in the laboratory where I remembered to have seen some of the cloth; and there was the greater part of a roll, retaining the original grey colour as fresh as ever. My uncle had given out the wrong roll for family use—the roll which he had prepared for his expermments!

I think I must have shrieked as I bounded to the street door, tore it open, and, leaving it so, rushed out towards my own house. I ran all the way hard as I could go, wild-eyed and hatless; and, bounding up to my room, snatched up a few bank-notes that were in my desk; and then, still running, made for Victoria Station. Such was my state of mind that I had run nearly a mile before it occurred to me that such things as cabs existed: then I hailed one and shouted to him to drive—drive—drive like mad!

As I might have known, there was no Continental train for nearly two hours; and I paced round and round Victoria Station like a caged beast, gnawing at my nails. Amy had taken that grey waterproof and hat of hers with her to Lugano!

I was fairly on the way at last; but, from the moment of the train's steaming out of Victoria Station a strange change came over me; I was no longer mad to get forward—I was mad to get back—back to my house, and to the cupboard where my clothes were hanging, and to the grey overcoat which hung among them. Several times I half opened the door of the flying railway carriage, in a mad impulse to jump out and run back; but I clenched my teeth and forced myself back mto my seat.

All the rest of the journey my thoughts were fixed upon London, and my house, and the grey overcoat hanging in the cupboard; at times I was seized with an insane dread that my housekeeper was at that very moment selling the coat—making away with it in some way or other—and at those times I would find mysell in a cold perspiration.

I reached Lugano and dashed down the steep grassy bank where the fireflies gather on warm evenings, and through the open gate of the villa garden. My aunt was sitting on a seat by the house. I stood before her, but she never changed her stare into space; she looked through me and made no sign. Whether she knew I was there or not I cannot say; I knew she was there—and alone!

I left her there without a word, and came back here to my own house; I had no mad longing or uneasiness on the return journey—I knew my grey coat was here, and ready for me; and here it is, hanging as I left it. Yes, it fits me as comfortably as ever—as comfortably as ever. "Either by friction, or concussion, or electricity." I wonder at what hour Amy