AWILD，MAD，HILARIOUSANDPROFOUNDLYMOVINGTALE
　　ItisverydifficulttoclassifyTHEMANWHOWASTHURSDAY。Itispossibletosaythatitisagrippingadventurestoryofmurderouscriminalsandbrilliantpolicemen;butitwastobeexpectedthattheauthoroftheFatherBrownstoriesshouldtelladetectivestorylikeno—oneelse。Onthislevel，therefore，THEMANWHOWAS
　　THURSDAYsucceedssuperbly;ifnothingelse，itisamagnificenttour—de—forceofsuspense—writing。
　　However，thereaderwillsoondiscoverthatitismuchmorethanthat。CarriedalongontheboisterousrushofthenarrativebyChesterton’swonderfulhigh—spiritedstyle，hewillsoonseethatheisbeingcarriedintomuchdeeperwatersthanhehadplannedon;
　　andthetotallyunforeseeabledenouementwillproveforthemodernreader，asithasforthousandsofotherssince1908whenthebookwasfirstpublished，aninevitableandmovingexperience，astheinvestigatorsfinallydiscoverwhoSundayis。
　　THEMANWHOWASTHURSDAY
　　ANIGHTMARE
　　G。K。CHESTERTON
　　ToEdmundClerihewBentleyAcloudwasonthemindofmen，andwailingwenttheweather，Yea，asickclouduponthesoulwhenwewereboystogether。
　　Scienceannouncednonentityandartadmireddecay;
　　Theworldwasoldandended：butyouandIweregay;
　　Roundusinanticordertheircrippledvicescame——
　　Lustthathadlostitslaughter，fearthathadlostitsshame。
　　LikethewhitelockofWhistler，thatlitouraimlessgloom，Menshowedtheirownwhitefeatherasproudlyasaplume。
　　Lifewasaflythatfaded，anddeathadronethatstung;
　　TheworldwasveryoldindeedwhenyouandIwereyoung。
　　Theytwistedevendecentsintoshapesnottobenamed：
　　Menwereashamedofhonour;butwewerenotashamed。
　　Weakifwewereandfoolish，notthuswefailed，notthus;
　　WhenthatblackBaalblockedtheheavenshehadnohymnsfromusChildrenwewere——ourfortsofsandwereevenasweakaseve，Highastheywentwepiledthemuptobreakthatbittersea。
　　Foolsaswewereinmotley，alljanglingandabsurd，Whenallchurchbellsweresilentourcapandbedswereheard。
　　Notallunhelpedweheldthefort，ourtinyflagsunfurled;
　　Somegiantslabouredinthatcloudtoliftitfromtheworld。
　　Ifindagainthebookwefound，IfeelthehourthatflingsFaroutoffish—shapedPaumanoksomecryofcleanerthings;
　　AndtheGreenCarnationwithered，asinforestfiresthatpass，Roaredinthewindofalltheworldtenmillionleavesofgrass;
　　Orsaneandsweetandsuddenasabirdsingsintherain——
　　TruthoutofTusitalaspokeandpleasureoutofpain。
　　Yea，coolandclearandsuddenasabirdsingsinthegrey，DunedintoSamoaspoke，anddarknessuntoday。
　　Butwewereyoung;welivedtoseeGodbreaktheirbittercharms。
　　GodandthegoodRepubliccomeridingbackinarms：
　　WehaveseentheCityofMansoul，evenasitrocked，relieved——
　　Blessedaretheywhodidnotsee，butbeingblind，believed。
　　Thisisataleofthoseoldfears，evenofthoseemptiedhells，Andnonebutyoushallunderstandthetruethingthatittells——
　　Ofwhatcolossalgodsofshamecouldcowmenandyetcrash，Ofwhathugedevilshidthestars，yetfellatapistolflash。
　　Thedoubtsthatweresoplaintochase，sodreadfultowithstand——
　　Oh，whoshallunderstandbutyou;yea，whoshallunderstand？
　　Thedoubtsthatdroveusthroughthenightaswetwotalkedamain，Anddayhadbrokenonthestreetse’eritbrokeuponthebrain。
　　Betweenus，bythepeaceofGod，suchtruthcannowbetold;
　　Yea，thereisstrengthinstrikingrootandgoodingrowingold。
　　Wehavefoundcommonthingsatlastandmarriageandacreed，AndImaysafelywriteitnow，andyoumaysafelyread。
　　G。K。C。
　　CHAPTERI
　　THETWOPOETSOFSAFFRONPARK
　　THEsuburbofSaffronParklayonthesunsetsideofLondon，asredandraggedasacloudofsunset。Itwasbuiltofabrightbrickthroughout;itssky—linewasfantastic，andevenitsgroundplanwaswild。Ithadbeentheoutburstofaspeculativebuilder，faintlytingedwithart，whocalleditsarchitecturesometimesElizabethanandsometimesQueenAnne，apparentlyundertheimpressionthatthetwosovereignswereidentical。Itwasdescribedwithsomejusticeasanartisticcolony，thoughitneverinanydefinablewayproducedanyart。Butalthoughitspretensionstobeanintellectualcentrewerealittlevague，itspretensionstobeapleasantplacewerequiteindisputable。Thestrangerwholookedforthefirsttimeatthequaintredhousescouldonlythinkhowveryoddlyshapedthepeoplemustbewhocouldfitintothem。Norwhenhemetthepeoplewashedisappointedinthisrespect。Theplacewasnotonlypleasant，butperfect，ifoncehecouldregarditnotasadeceptionbutratherasadream。Evenifthepeoplewerenot"artists，"thewholewasneverthelessartistic。Thatyoungmanwiththelong，auburnhairandtheimpudentface——thatyoungmanwasnotreallyapoet;butsurelyhewasapoem。Thatoldgentlemanwiththewild，whitebeardandthewild，whitehat——thatvenerablehumbugwasnotreallyaphilosopher;butatleasthewasthecauseofphilosophyinothers。Thatscientificgentlemanwiththebald，egg—likeheadandthebare，bird—likeneckhadnorealrighttotheairsofsciencethatheassumed。Hehadnotdiscoveredanythingnewinbiology;butwhatbiologicalcreaturecouldhehavediscoveredmoresingularthanhimself？Thus，andthusonly，thewholeplacehadproperlytoberegarded;ithadtobeconsiderednotsomuchasaworkshopforartists，butasafrailbutfinishedworkofart。
　　Amanwhosteppedintoitssocialatmospherefeltasifhehadsteppedintoawrittencomedy。
　　Moreespeciallythisattractiveunrealityfelluponitaboutnightfall，whentheextravagantroofsweredarkagainsttheafterglowandthewholeinsanevillageseemedasseparateasadriftingcloud。Thisagainwasmorestronglytrueofthemanynightsoflocalfestivity，whenthelittlegardenswereoftenilluminated，andthebigChineselanternsglowedinthedwarfishtreeslikesomefierceandmonstrousfruit。Andthiswasstrongestofallononeparticularevening，stillvaguelyrememberedinthelocality，ofwhichtheauburn—hairedpoetwasthehero。Itwasnotbyanymeanstheonlyeveningofwhichhewasthehero。Onmanynightsthosepassingbyhislittlebackgardenmighthearhishigh，didacticvoicelayingdownthelawtomenandparticularlytowomen。Theattitudeofwomeninsuchcaseswasindeedoneoftheparadoxesoftheplace。Mostofthewomenwereofthekindvaguelycalledemancipated，andprofessedsomeprotestagainstmalesupremacy。Yetthesenewwomenwouldalwayspaytoamantheextravagantcomplimentwhichnoordinarywomaneverpaystohim，thatoflisteningwhileheistalking。AndMr。LucianGregory，thered—hairedpoet，wasreally（insomesense）amanworthlisteningto，evenifoneonlylaughedattheendofit。Heputtheoldcantofthelawlessnessofartandtheartoflawlessnesswithacertainimpudentfreshnesswhichgaveatleastamomentarypleasure。Hewashelpedinsomedegreebythearrestingoddityofhisappearance，whichheworked，asthephrasegoes，forallitwasworth。Hisdarkredhairpartedinthemiddlewasliterallylikeawoman’s，andcurvedintotheslowcurlsofavirgininapre—Raphaelitepicture。
　　Fromwithinthisalmostsaintlyoval，however，hisfaceprojectedsuddenlybroadandbrutal，thechincarriedforwardwithalookofcockneycontempt。Thiscombinationatoncetickledandterrifiedthenervesofaneuroticpopulation。Heseemedlikeawalkingblasphemy，ablendoftheangelandtheape。
　　Thisparticularevening，ifitisrememberedfornothingelse，willberememberedinthatplaceforitsstrangesunset。Itlookedliketheendoftheworld。Alltheheavenseemedcoveredwithaquitevividandpalpableplumage;youcouldonlysaythattheskywasfulloffeathers，andoffeathersthatalmostbrushedtheface。Acrossthegreatpartofthedometheyweregrey，withthestrangesttintsofvioletandmauveandanunnaturalpinkorpalegreen;buttowardsthewestthewholegrewpastdescription，transparentandpassionate，andthelastred—hotplumesofitcoveredupthesunlikesomethingtoogoodtobeseen。Thewholewassocloseabouttheearth，astoexpressnothingbutaviolentsecrecy。Theveryempyreanseemedtobeasecret。Itexpressedthatsplendidsmallnesswhichisthesouloflocalpatriotism。Theveryskyseemedsmall。
　　Isaythattherearesomeinhabitantswhomayremembertheeveningifonlybythatoppressivesky。ThereareotherswhomayrememberitbecauseitmarkedthefirstappearanceintheplaceofthesecondpoetofSaffronPark。Foralongtimethered—hairedrevolutionaryhadreignedwithoutarival;itwasuponthenightofthesunsetthathissolitudesuddenlyended。Thenewpoet，whointroducedhimselfbythenameofGabrielSymewasaverymild—lookingmortal，withafair，pointedbeardandfaint，yellowhair。Butanimpressiongrewthathewaslessmeekthanhelooked。
　　Hesignalisedhisentrancebydifferingwiththeestablishedpoet，Gregory，uponthewholenatureofpoetry。Hesaidthathe（Syme）
　　waspoetoflaw，apoetoforder;nay，hesaidhewasapoetofrespectability。SoalltheSaffronParkerslookedathimasifhehadthatmomentfallenoutofthatimpossiblesky。
　　Infact，Mr。LucianGregory，theanarchicpoet，connectedthetwoevents。
　　"Itmaywellbe，"hesaid，inhissuddenlyricalmanner，"itmaywellbeonsuchanightofcloudsandcruelcoloursthatthereisbroughtforthupontheearthsuchaportentasarespectablepoet。
　　Yousayyouareapoetoflaw;Isayyouareacontradictioninterms。Ionlywondertherewerenotcometsandearthquakesonthenightyouappearedinthisgarden。"
　　Themanwiththemeekblueeyesandthepale，pointedbeardenduredthesethunderswithacertainsubmissivesolemnity。Thethirdpartyofthegroup，Gregory’ssisterRosamond，whohadherbrother’sbraidsofredhair，butakindlierfaceunderneaththem，laughedwithsuchmixtureofadmirationanddisapprovalasshegavecommonlytothefamilyoracle。
　　Gregoryresumedinhighoratoricalgoodhumour。
　　"Anartistisidenticalwithananarchist，"hecried。"Youmighttransposethewordsanywhere。Ananarchistisanartist。Themanwhothrowsabombisanartist，becauseheprefersagreatmomenttoeverything。Heseeshowmuchmorevaluableisoneburstofblazinglight，onepealofperfectthunder，thanthemerecommonbodiesofafewshapelesspolicemen。Anartistdisregardsallgovernments，abolishesallconventions。Thepoetdelightsindisorderonly。Ifitwerenotso，themostpoeticalthingintheworldwouldbetheUndergroundRailway。"
　　"Soitis，"saidMr。Syme。
　　"Nonsense！"saidGregory，whowasveryrationalwhenanyoneelseattemptedparadox。"Whydoalltheclerksandnavviesintherailwaytrainslooksosadandtired，soverysadandtired？Iwilltellyou。Itisbecausetheyknowthatthetrainisgoingright。Itisbecausetheyknowthatwhateverplacetheyhavetakenaticketforthatplacetheywillreach。ItisbecauseaftertheyhavepassedSloaneSquaretheyknowthatthenextstationmustbeVictoria，andnothingbutVictoria。Oh，theirwildrapture！oh，theireyeslikestarsandtheirsoulsagaininEden，ifthenextstationwereunaccountablyBakerStreet！"
　　"Itisyouwhoareunpoetical，"repliedthepoetSyme。"Ifwhatyousayofclerksistrue，theycanonlybeasprosaicasyourpoetry。
　　Therare，strangethingistohitthemark;thegross，obviousthingistomissit。Wefeelitisepicalwhenmanwithonewildarrowstrikesadistantbird。Isitnotalsoepicalwhenmanwithonewildenginestrikesadistantstation？Chaosisdull;becauseinchaosthetrainmightindeedgoanywhere，toBakerStreetortoBagdad。Butmanisamagician，andhiswholemagicisinthis，thathedoessayVictoria，andlo！itisVictoria。No，takeyourbooksofmerepoetryandprose;letmereadatimetable，withtearsofpride。TakeyourByron，whocommemoratesthedefeatsofman;givemeBradshaw，whocommemorateshisvictories。GivemeBradshaw，I
　　say！"
　　"Mustyougo？"inquiredGregorysarcastically。
　　"Itellyou，"wentonSymewithpassion，"thateverytimeatraincomesinIfeelthatithasbrokenpastbatteriesofbesiegers，andthatmanhaswonabattleagainstchaos。YousaycontemptuouslythatwhenonehasleftSloaneSquareonemustcometoVictoria。I
　　saythatonemightdoathousandthingsinstead，andthatwheneverIreallycomethereIhavethesenseofhairbreadthescape。AndwhenIheartheguardshoutouttheword’Victoria，’itisnotanunmeaningword。Itistomethecryofaheraldannouncingconquest。Itistomeindeed’Victoria’;itisthevictoryofAdam。"
　　Gregorywaggedhisheavy，redheadwithaslowandsadsmile。
　　"Andeventhen，"hesaid，"wepoetsalwaysaskthequestion，’AndwhatisVictorianowthatyouhavegotthere？’YouthinkVictoriaisliketheNewJerusalem。WeknowthattheNewJerusalemwillonlybelikeVictoria。Yes，thepoetwillbediscontentedeveninthestreetsofheaven。Thepoetisalwaysinrevolt。"
　　"Thereagain，"saidSymeirritably，"whatistherepoeticalaboutbeinginrevolt？Youmightaswellsaythatitispoeticaltobesea—sick。Beingsickisarevolt。Bothbeingsickandbeingrebelliousmaybethewholesomethingoncertaindesperateoccasions;butI’mhangedifIcanseewhytheyarepoetical。
　　Revoltintheabstractis——revolting。It’smerevomiting。"
　　Thegirlwincedforaflashattheunpleasantword，butSymewastoohottoheedher。
　　"Itisthingsgoingright，"hecried，"thatispoeticalIOurdigestions，forinstance，goingsacredlyandsilentlyright，thatisthefoundationofallpoetry。Yes，themostpoeticalthing，morepoeticalthantheflowers，morepoeticalthanthestars——themostpoeticalthingintheworldisnotbeingsick。"
　　"Really，"saidGregorysuperciliously，"theexamplesyouchoose——"
　　"Ibegyourpardon，"saidSymegrimly，"Iforgotwehadabolishedallconventions。"
　　ForthefirsttimearedpatchappearedonGregory’sforehead。
　　"Youdon’texpectme，"hesaid，"torevolutionisesocietyonthislawn？"
　　Symelookedstraightintohiseyesandsmiledsweetly。
　　"No，Idon’t，"hesaid;"butIsupposethatifyouwereseriousaboutyouranarchism，thatisexactlywhatyouwoulddo。"
　　Gregory’sbigbull’seyesblinkedsuddenlylikethoseofanangrylion，andonecouldalmostfancythathisredmanerose。
　　"Don’tyouthink，then，"hesaidinadangerousvoice，"thatIamseriousaboutmyanarchism？"
　　"Ibegyourpardon？"saidSyme。
　　"AmInotseriousaboutmyanarchism？"criedGregory，withknottedfists。
　　"Mydearfellow！"saidSyme，andstrolledaway。
　　Withsurprise，butwithacuriouspleasure，hefoundRosamondGregorystillinhiscompany。
　　"Mr。Syme，"shesaid，"dothepeoplewhotalklikeyouandmybrotheroftenmeanwhattheysay？Doyoumeanwhatyousaynow？"
　　Symesmiled。
　　"Doyou？"heasked。
　　"Whatdoyoumean？"askedthegirl，withgraveeyes。
　　"MydearMissGregory，"saidSymegently，"therearemanykindsofsincerityandinsincerity。Whenyousay’thankyou’forthesalt，doyoumeanwhatyousay？No。Whenyousay’theworldisround，’
　　doyoumeanwhatyousay？No。Itistrue，butyoudon’tmeanit。
　　Now，sometimesamanlikeyourbrotherreallyfindsathinghedoesmean。Itmaybeonlyahalf—truth，quarter—truth，tenth—truth;butthenhesaysmorethanhemeans——fromsheerforceofmeaningit。"
　　Shewaslookingathimfromunderlevelbrows;herfacewasgraveandopen，andtherehadfallenuponittheshadowofthatunreasoningresponsibilitywhichisatthebottomofthemostfrivolouswoman，thematernalwatchwhichisasoldastheworld。
　　"Ishereallyananarchist，then？"sheasked。
　　"OnlyinthatsenseIspeakof，"repliedSyme;"orifyoupreferit，inthatnonsense。"
　　Shedrewherbroadbrowstogetherandsaidabruptly——
　　"Hewouldn’treallyuse——bombsorthatsortofthing？"
　　Symebrokeintoagreatlaugh，thatseemedtoolargeforhisslightandsomewhatdandifiedfigure。
　　"GoodLord，no！"hesaid，"thathastobedoneanonymously。"
　　Andatthatthecornersofherownmouthbrokeintoasmile，andshethoughtwithasimultaneouspleasureofGregory’sabsurdityandofhissafety。
　　Symestrolledwithhertoaseatinthecornerofthegarden，andcontinuedtopourouthisopinions。Forhewasasincereman，andinspiteofhissuperficialairsandgraces，atrootahumbleone。
　　Anditisalwaysthehumblemanwhotalkstoomuch;theproudmanwatcheshimselftooclosely。Hedefendedrespectabilitywithviolenceandexaggeration。Hegrewpassionateinhispraiseoftidinessandpropriety。Allthetimetherewasasmelloflilacallroundhim。Onceheheardveryfaintlyinsomedistantstreetabarrel—organbegintoplay，anditseemedtohimthathisheroicwordsweremovingtoatinytunefromunderorbeyondtheworld。
　　Hestaredandtalkedatthegirl’sredhairandamusedfaceforwhatseemedtobeafewminutes;andthen，feelingthatthegroupsinsuchaplaceshouldmix，rosetohisfeet。Tohisastonishment，hediscoveredthewholegardenempty。Everyonehadgonelongago，andhewenthimselfwitharatherhurriedapology。Heleftwithasenseofchampagneinhishead，whichhecouldnotafterwardsexplain。Inthewildeventswhichweretofollowthisgirlhadnopartatall;heneversawheragainuntilallhistalewasover。
　　Andyet，insomeindescribableway，shekeptrecurringlikeamotiveinmusicthroughallhismadadventuresafterwards，andthegloryofherstrangehairranlikearedthreadthroughthosedarkandill—drawntapestriesofthenight。Forwhatfollowedwassoimprobable，thatitmightwellhavebeenadream。
　　WhenSymewentoutintothestarlitstreet，hefounditforthemomentempty。Thenherealised（insomeoddway）thatthesilencewasratheralivingsilencethanadeadone。Directlyoutsidethedoorstoodastreetlamp，whosegleamgildedtheleavesofthetreethatbentoutoverthefencebehindhim。Aboutafootfromthelamp—poststoodafigurealmostasrigidandmotionlessasthelamp—postitself。Thetallhatandlongfrockcoatwereblack;theface，inanabruptshadow，wasalmostasdark。Onlyafringeoffieryhairagainstthelight，andalsosomethingaggressiveintheattitude，proclaimedthatitwasthepoetGregory。Hehadsomethingofthelookofamaskedbravowaitingswordinhandforhisfoe。
　　Hemadeasortofdoubtfulsalute，whichSymesomewhatmoreformallyreturned。
　　"Iwaswaitingforyou，"saidGregory。"MightIhaveamoment’sconversation？"
　　"Certainly。Aboutwhat？"askedSymeinasortofweakwonder。
　　Gregorystruckoutwithhisstickatthelamp—post，andthenatthetree。"Aboutthisandthis，"hecried;"aboutorderandanarchy。
　　Thereisyourpreciousorder，thatlean，ironlamp，uglyandbarren;andthereisanarchy，rich，living，reproducingitself——thereisanarchy，splendidingreenandgold。"
　　"Allthesame，"repliedSymepatiently，"justatpresentyouonlyseethetreebythelightofthelamp。Iwonderwhenyouwouldeverseethelampbythelightofthetree。"Thenafterapausehesaid，"ButmayIaskifyouhavebeenstandingouthereinthedarkonlytoresumeourlittleargument？"
　　"No，"criedoutGregory，inavoicethatrangdownthestreet，"I
　　didnotstandheretoresumeourargument，buttoenditforever。"
　　Thesilencefellagain，andSyme，thoughheunderstoodnothing，listenedinstinctivelyforsomethingserious。Gregorybeganinasmoothvoiceandwitharatherbewilderingsmile。
　　"Mr。Syme，"hesaid，"thiseveningyousucceededindoingsomethingratherremarkable。Youdidsomethingtomethatnomanbornofwomanhaseversucceededindoingbefore。"
　　"Indeed！"
　　"NowIremember，"resumedGregoryreflectively，"oneotherpersonsucceededindoingit。Thecaptainofapennysteamer（ifI
　　remembercorrectly）atSouthend。Youhaveirritatedme。"
　　"Iamverysorry，"repliedSymewithgravity。
　　"Iamafraidmyfuryandyourinsultaretooshockingtobewipedoutevenwithanapology，"saidGregoryverycalmly。"Noduelcouldwipeitout。IfIstruckyoudeadIcouldnotwipeitout。
　　Thereisonlyonewaybywhichthatinsultcanbeerased，andthatwayIchoose。Iamgoing，atthepossiblesacrificeofmylifeandhonour，toprovetoyouthatyouwerewronginwhatyousaid。"
　　"InwhatIsaid？"
　　"YousaidIwasnotseriousaboutbeingananarchist。"
　　"Therearedegreesofseriousness，"repliedSyme。"Ihaveneverdoubtedthatyouwereperfectlysincereinthissense，thatyouthoughtwhatyousaidwellworthsaying，thatyouthoughtaparadoxmightwakemenuptoaneglectedtruth。"
　　Gregorystaredathimsteadilyandpainfully。
　　"Andinnoothersense，"heasked，"youthinkmeserious？Youthinkmeaflaneurwholetsfalloccasionaltruths。Youdonotthinkthatinadeeper，amoredeadlysense，Iamserious。"
　　Symestruckhisstickviolentlyonthestonesoftheroad。
　　"Serious！"hecried。"GoodLord！isthisstreetserious？ArethesedamnedChineselanternsserious？Isthewholecaboodleserious？
　　Onecomeshereandtalksapackofbosh，andperhapssomesenseaswell，butIshouldthinkverylittleofamanwhodidn’tkeepsomethinginthebackgroundofhislifethatwasmoreseriousthanallthistalking——somethingmoreserious，whetheritwasreligionoronlydrink。"
　　"Verywell，"saidGregory，hisfacedarkening，"youshallseesomethingmoreseriousthaneitherdrinkorreligion。"
　　SymestoodwaitingwithhisusualairofmildnessuntilGregoryagainopenedhislips。
　　"Youspokejustnowofhavingareligion。Isitreallytruethatyouhaveone？"
　　"Oh，"saidSymewithabeamingsmile，"weareallCatholicsnow。"
　　"ThenmayIaskyoutoswearbywhatevergodsorsaintsyourreligioninvolvesthatyouwillnotrevealwhatIamnowgoingtotellyoutoanysonofAdam，andespeciallynottothepolice？
　　Willyouswearthat！Ifyouwilltakeuponyourselfthisawfulabnegationsifyouwillconsenttoburdenyoursoulwithavowthatyoushouldnevermakeandaknowledgeyoushouldneverdreamabout，Iwillpromiseyouinreturn——"
　　"Youwillpromisemeinreturn？"inquiredSyme，astheotherpaused。
　　"Iwillpromiseyouaveryentertainingevening。"Symesuddenlytookoffhishat。
　　"Youroffer，"hesaid，"isfartooidiotictobedeclined。Yousaythatapoetisalwaysananarchist。Idisagree;butIhopeatleastthatheisalwaysasportsman。Permitme，hereandnow，toswearasaChristian，andpromiseasagoodcomradeandafellow—artist，thatIwillnotreportanythingofthis，whateveritis，tothepolice。Andnow，inthenameofColneyHatch，whatisit？"
　　"Ithink，"saidGregory，withplacidirrelevancy，"thatwewillcallacab。"
　　Hegavetwolongwhistles，andahansomcamerattlingdowntheroad。Thetwogotintoitinsilence。Gregorygavethroughthetraptheaddressofanobscurepublic—houseontheChiswickbankoftheriver。Thecabwhiskeditselfawayagain，andinitthesetwofantasticsquittedtheirfantastictown。
　　CHAPTERII
　　THESECRETOFGABRIELSYME
　　THEcabpulledupbeforeaparticularlydrearyandgreasybeershop，intowhichGregoryrapidlyconductedhiscompanion。Theyseatedthemselvesinacloseanddimsortofbar—parlour，atastainedwoodentablewithonewoodenleg。Theroomwassosmallanddark，thatverylittlecouldbeseenoftheattendantwhowassummoned，beyondavagueanddarkimpressionofsomethingbulkyandbearded。
　　"Willyoutakealittlesupper？"askedGregorypolitely。"Thepatedefoiegrasisnotgoodhere，butIcanrecommendthegame。"
　　Symereceivedtheremarkwithstolidity，imaginingittobeajoke。
　　Acceptingtheveinofhumour，hesaid，withawell—bredindifference——
　　"Oh，bringmesomelobstermayonnaise。"
　　Tohisindescribableastonishment，themanonlysaid"Certainly，sir！"andwentawayapparentlytogetit。
　　"Whatwillyoudrink？"resumedGregory，withthesamecarelessyetapologeticair。"Ishallonlyhaveacrepedementhemyself;Ihavedined。Butthechampagnecanreallybetrusted。Doletmestartyouwithahalf—bottleofPommeryatleast？"
　　"Thankyou！"saidthemotionlessSyme。"Youareverygood。"
　　Hisfurtherattemptsatconversation，somewhatdisorganisedinthemselves，werecutshortfinallyasbyathunderboltbytheactualappearanceofthelobster。Symetastedit，andfounditparticularlygood。Thenhesuddenlybegantoeatwithgreatrapidityandappetite。
　　"ExcusemeifIenjoymyselfratherobviously！"hesaidtoGregory，smiling。"Idon’toftenhavethelucktohaveadreamlikethis。Itisnewtomeforanightmaretoleadtoalobster。Itiscommonlytheotherway。"
　　"Youarenotasleep，Iassureyou，"saidGregory。"Youare，onthecontrary，closetothemostactualandrousingmomentofyourexistence。Ah，herecomesyourchampagne！Iadmitthattheremaybeaslightdisproportion，letussay，betweentheinnerarrangementsofthisexcellenthotelanditssimpleandunpretentiousexterior。
　　Butthatisallourmodesty。Wearethemostmodestmenthateverlivedonearth。"
　　"Andwhoarewe？"askedSyme，emptyinghischampagneglass。
　　"Itisquitesimple，"repliedGregory。"Wearetheseriousanarchists，inwhomyoudonotbelieve。"
　　"Oh！"saidSymeshortly。"Youdoyourselveswellindrinks。"
　　"Yes，weareseriousabouteverything，"answeredGregory。
　　Thenafterapauseheadded——
　　"Ifinafewmomentsthistablebeginstoturnroundalittle，don’tputitdowntoyourinroadsintothechampagne。Idon’twishyoutodoyourselfaninjustice。"
　　"Well，ifIamnotdrunk，Iammad，"repliedSymewithperfectcalm;"butItrustIcanbehavelikeagentlemanineithercondition。MayIsmoke？"
　　"Certainly！"saidGregory，producingacigar—case。"Tryoneofmine。"
　　Symetookthecigar，clippedtheendoffwithacigar—cutteroutofhiswaistcoatpocket，putitinhismouth，lititslowly，andletoutalongcloudofsmoke。Itisnotalittletohiscreditthatheperformedtheseriteswithsomuchcomposure，foralmostbeforehehadbegunthemthetableatwhichhesathadbeguntorevolve，firstslowly，andthenrapidly，asifataninsaneseance。
　　"Youmustnotmindit，"saidGregory;"it’sakindofscrew。"
　　"Quiteso，"saidSymeplacidly，"akindofscrew。Howsimplethatis！"
　　Thenextmomentthesmokeofhiscigar，whichhadbeenwaveringacrosstheroominsnakytwists，wentstraightupasiffromafactorychimney，andthetwo，withtheirchairsandtable，shotdownthroughthefloorasiftheearthhadswallowedthem。Theywentrattlingdownakindofroaringchimneyasrapidlyasaliftcutloose，andtheycamewithanabruptbumptothebottom。ButwhenGregorythrewopenapairofdoorsandletinaredsubterraneanlight，Symewasstillsmokingwithonelegthrownovertheother，andhadnotturnedayellowhair。
　　Gregoryledhimdownalow，vaultedpassage，attheendofwhichwastheredlight。Itwasanenormouscrimsonlantern，nearlyasbigasafireplace，fixedoverasmallbutheavyirondoor。Inthedoortherewasasortofhatchwayorgrating，andonthisGregorystruckfivetimes。Aheavyvoicewithaforeignaccentaskedhimwhohewas。Tothishegavethemoreorlessunexpectedreply，"Mr。JosephChamberlain。"Theheavyhingesbegantomove;itwasobviouslysomekindofpassword。
　　Insidethedoorwaythepassagegleamedasifitwerelinedwithanetworkofsteel。Onasecondglance，Symesawthattheglitteringpatternwasreallymadeupofranksandranksofriflesandrevolvers，closelypackedorinterlocked。
　　"Imustaskyoutoforgivemealltheseformalities，"saidGregory;
　　"wehavetobeverystricthere。"
　　"Oh，don’tapologise，"saidSyme。"Iknowyourpassionforlawandorder，"andhesteppedintothepassagelinedwiththesteelweapons。Withhislong，fairhairandratherfoppishfrock—coat，helookedasingularlyfrailandfancifulfigureashewalkeddownthatshiningavenueofdeath。
　　Theypassedthroughseveralsuchpassages，andcameoutatlastintoaqueersteelchamberwithcurvedwalls，almostsphericalinshape，butpresenting，withitstiersofbenches，somethingoftheappearanceofascientificlecture—theatre。Therewerenoriflesorpistolsinthisapartment，butroundthewallsofitwerehungmoredubiousanddreadfulshapes，thingsthatlookedlikethebulbsofironplants，ortheeggsofironbirds。Theywerebombs，andtheveryroomitselfseemedliketheinsideofabomb。Symeknockedhiscigarashoffagainstthewall，andwentin。
　　"Andnow，mydearMr。Syme，"saidGregory，throwinghimselfinanexpansivemanneronthebenchunderthelargestbomb，"nowwearequitecosy，soletustalkproperly。NownohumanwordscangiveyouanynotionofwhyIbroughtyouhere。Itwasoneofthosequitearbitraryemotions，likejumpingoffaclifforfallinginlove。
　　Sufficeittosaythatyouwereaninexpressiblyirritatingfellow，and，todoyoujustice，youarestill。Iwouldbreaktwentyoathsofsecrecyforthepleasureoftakingyoudownapeg。Thatwayyouhaveoflightingacigarwouldmakeapriestbreakthesealofconfession。Well，yousaidthatyouwerequitecertainIwasnotaseriousanarchist。Doesthisplacestrikeyouasbeingserious？"
　　"Itdoesseemtohaveamoralunderallitsgaiety，"assentedSyme;"butmayIaskyoutwoquestions？Youneednotfeartogivemeinformation，because，asyouremember，youverywiselyextortedfrommeapromisenottotellthepolice，apromiseIshallcertainlykeep。SoitisinmerecuriositythatImakemyqueries。
　　Firstofall，whatisitreallyallabout？Whatisityouobjectto？YouwanttoabolishGovernment？"
　　"ToabolishGod！"saidGregory，openingtheeyesofafanatic。"Wedonotonlywanttoupsetafewdespotismsandpoliceregulations;
　　thatsortofanarchismdoesexist，butitisamerebranchoftheNonconformists。Wedigdeeperandweblowyouhigher。Wewishtodenyallthosearbitrarydistinctionsofviceandvirtue，honourandtreachery，uponwhichmererebelsbasethemselves。ThesillysentimentalistsoftheFrenchRevolutiontalkedoftheRightsofMan！WehateRightsaswehateWrongs。WehaveabolishedRightandWrong。"
　　"AndRightandLeft，"saidSymewithasimpleeagerness，"Ihopeyouwillabolishthemtoo。Theyaremuchmoretroublesometome。"
　　"Youspokeofasecondquestion，"snappedGregory。
　　"Withpleasure，"resumedSyme。"Inallyourpresentactsandsurroundingsthereisascientificattemptatsecrecy。Ihaveanauntwholivedoverashop，butthisisthefirsttimeIhavefoundpeoplelivingfrompreferenceunderapublic—house。Youhaveaheavyirondoor。YoucannotpassitwithoutsubmittingtothehumiliationofcallingyourselfMr。Chamberlain。Yousurroundyourselfwithsteelinstrumentswhichmaketheplace，ifImaysayso，moreimpressivethanhomelike。MayIaskwhy，aftertakingallthistroubletobarricadeyourselvesinthebowelsoftheearth，youthenparadeyourwholesecretbytalkingaboutanarchismtoeverysillywomaninSaffronPark？"
　　Gregorysmiled。
　　"Theanswerissimple，"hesaid。"ItoldyouIwasaseriousanarchist，andyoudidnotbelieveme。Nordotheybelieveme。
　　UnlessItookthemintothisinfernalroomtheywouldnotbelieveme。"
　　Symesmokedthoughtfully，andlookedathimwithinterest。Gregorywenton。
　　"Thehistoryofthethingmightamuseyou，"hesaid。"WhenfirstI
　　becameoneoftheNewAnarchistsItriedallkindsofrespectabledisguises。Idressedupasabishop。Ireadupallaboutbishopsinouranarchistpamphlets，inSuperstitiontheVampireandPriestsofPrey。Icertainlyunderstoodfromthemthatbishopsarestrangeandterribleoldmenkeepingacruelsecretfrommankind。
　　Iwasmisinformed。Whenonmyfirstappearinginepiscopalgaitersinadrawing—roomIcriedoutinavoiceofthunder，’Down！down！
　　presumptuoushumanreason！’theyfoundoutinsomewaythatIwasnotabishopatall。Iwasnabbedatonce。ThenImadeupasamillionaire;butIdefendedCapitalwithsomuchintelligencethatafoolcouldseethatIwasquitepoor。ThenItriedbeingamajor。NowIamahumanitarianmyself，butIhave，Ihope，enoughintellectualbreadthtounderstandthepositionofthosewho，likeNietzsche，admireviolence——theproud，madwarofNatureandallthat，youknow。Ithrewmyselfintothemajor。Idrewmyswordandwaveditconstantly。Icalledout’Blood！’abstractedly，likeamancallingforwine。Ioftensaid，’Lettheweakperish;itistheLaw。’Well，well，itseemsmajorsdon’tdothis。Iwasnabbedagain。AtlastIwentindespairtothePresidentoftheCentralAnarchistCouncil，whoisthegreatestmaninEurope。"
　　"Whatishisname？"askedSyme。
　　"Youwouldnotknowit，"answeredGregory。"Thatishisgreatness。
　　CaesarandNapoleonputalltheirgeniusintobeingheardof，andtheywereheardof。Heputsallhisgeniusintonotbeingheardof，andheisnotheardof。ButyoucannotbeforfiveminutesintheroomwithhimwithoutfeelingthatCaesarandNapoleonwouldhavebeenchildreninhishands。"
　　Hewassilentandevenpaleforamoment，andthenresumed——
　　"Butwheneverhegivesadviceitisalwayssomethingasstartlingasanepigram，andyetaspracticalastheBankofEngland。Isaidtohim，’Whatdisguisewillhidemefromtheworld？WhatcanIfindmorerespectablethanbishopsandmajors？’Helookedatmewithhislargebutindecipherableface。’Youwantasafedisguise，doyou？
　　Youwantadresswhichwillguaranteeyouharmless;adressinwhichnoonewouldeverlookforabomb？’Inodded。Hesuddenlyliftedhislion’svoice。’Why，then，dressupasananarchist，youfool！’heroaredsothattheroomshook。’Nobodywilleverexpectyoutodoanythingdangerousthen。’Andheturnedhisbroadbackonmewithoutanotherword。Itookhisadvice，andhaveneverregrettedit。Ipreachedbloodandmurdertothosewomendayandnight，and——byGod！——theywouldletmewheeltheirperambulators。"
　　Symesatwatchinghimwithsomerespectinhislarge，blueeyes。
　　"Youtookmein，"hesaid。"Itisreallyasmartdodge。"
　　Thenafterapauseheadded——
　　"WhatdoyoucallthistremendousPresidentofyours？"
　　"WegenerallycallhimSunday，"repliedGregorywithsimplicity。
　　’Yousee，therearesevenmembersoftheCentralAnarchistCouncil，andtheyarenamedafterdaysoftheweek。HeiscalledSunday，bysomeofhisadmirersBloodySunday。Itiscuriousyoushouldmentionthematter，becausetheverynightyouhavedroppedin（ifImaysoexpressit）isthenightonwhichourLondonbranch，whichassemblesinthisroom，hastoelectitsowndeputytofillavacancyintheCouncil。Thegentlemanwhohasforsometimepastplayed，withproprietyandgeneralapplause，thedifficultpartofThursday，hasdiedquitesuddenly。Consequently，wehavecalledameetingthisveryeveningtoelectasuccessor。"
　　Hegottohisfeetandstrolledacrosstheroomwithasortofsmilingembarrassment。
　　"Ifeelsomehowasifyouweremymother，Syme，"hecontinuedcasually。"IfeelthatIcanconfideanythingtoyou，asyouhavepromisedtotellnobody。Infact，IwillconfidetoyousomethingthatIwouldnotsayinsomanywordstotheanarchistswhowillbecomingtotheroominabouttenminutes。Weshall，ofcourse，gothroughaformofelection;butIdon’tmindtellingyouthatitispracticallycertainwhattheresultwillbe。"Helookeddownforamomentmodestly。"ItisalmostasettledthingthatIamtobeThursday。"
　　"Mydearfellow。"saidSymeheartily，"Icongratulateyou。Agreatcareer！"
　　Gregorysmiledindeprecation，andwalkedacrosstheroom，talkingrapidly。
　　"Asamatteroffact，everythingisreadyformeonthistable，"hesaid，"andtheceremonywillprobablybetheshortestpossible。"
　　Symealsostrolledacrosstothetable，andfoundlyingacrossitawalking—stick，whichturnedoutonexaminationtobeasword—stick，alargeColt’srevolver，asandwichcase，andaformidableflaskofbrandy。Overthechair，besidethetable，wasthrownaheavy—lookingcapeorcloak。
　　"Ihaveonlytogettheformofelectionfinished，"continuedGregorywithanimation，"thenIsnatchupthiscloakandstick，stufftheseotherthingsintomypocket，stepoutofadoorinthiscavern，whichopensontheriver，wherethereisasteam—tugalreadywaitingforme，andthen——then——oh，thewildjoyofbeingThursday！"Andheclaspedhishands。
　　Syme，whohadsatdownoncemorewithhisusualinsolentlanguor，gottohisfeetwithanunusualairofhesitation。
　　"Whyisit，"heaskedvaguely，"thatIthinkyouarequiteadecentfellow？WhydoIpositivelylikeyou，Gregory？"Hepausedamoment，andthenaddedwithasortoffreshcuriosity，"Isitbecauseyouaresuchanass？"
　　Therewasathoughtfulsilenceagain，andthenhecriedout——
　　"Well，damnitall！thisisthefunniestsituationIhaveeverbeenininmylife，andIamgoingtoactaccordingly。Gregory，IgaveyouapromisebeforeIcameintothisplace。ThatpromiseIwouldkeepunderred—hotpincers。Wouldyougiveme，formyownsafety，alittlepromiseofthesamekind？"
　　"Apromise？"askedGregory，wondering。
　　"Yes，"saidSymeveryseriously，"apromise。IsworebeforeGodthatIwouldnottellyoursecrettothepolice。WillyouswearbyHumanity，orwhateverbeastlythingyoubelievein，thatyouwillnottellmysecrettotheanarchists？"
　　"Yoursecret？"askedthestaringGregory。"Haveyougotasecret？"
　　"Yes，"saidSyme，"Ihaveasecret。"Thenafterapause，"Willyouswear？"
　　Gregoryglaredathimgravelyforafewmoments，andthensaidabruptly——
　　"Youmusthavebewitchedme，butIfeelafuriouscuriosityaboutyou。Yes，Iwillswearnottotelltheanarchistsanythingyoutellme。Butlooksharp，fortheywillbehereinacoupleofminutes。"
　　Symeroseslowlytohisfeetandthrusthislong，whitehandsintohislong，greytrousers’pockets。Almostashedidsotherecamefiveknocksontheoutergrating，proclaimingthearrivalofthefirstoftheconspirators。
　　"Well，"saidSymeslowly，"Idon’tknowhowtotellyouthetruthmoreshortlythanbysayingthatyourexpedientofdressingupasanaimlesspoetisnotconfinedtoyouoryourPresident。WehaveknownthedodgeforsometimeatScotlandYard。"
　　Gregorytriedtospringupstraight，butheswayedthrice。
　　"Whatdoyousay？"heaskedinaninhumanvoice。
　　"Yes，"saidSymesimply，"Iamapolicedetective。ButIthinkI
　　hearyourfriendscoming。"
　　Fromthedoorwaytherecameamurmurof"Mr。JosephChamberlain。"
　　Itwasrepeatedtwiceandthrice，andthenthirtytimes，andthecrowdofJosephChamberlains（asolemnthought）couldbeheardtramplingdownthecorridor。
　　CHAPTERIII
　　THEMANWHOWASTHURSDAY
　　BEFOREoneofthefreshfacescouldappearatthedoorway，Gregory’sstunnedsurprisehadfallenfromhim。Hewasbesidethetablewithabound，andanoiseinhisthroatlikeawildbeast。
　　HecaughtuptheColt’srevolverandtookaimatSyme。Symedidnotflinch，butheputupapaleandpolitehand。
　　"Don’tbesuchasillyman，"hesaid，withtheeffeminatedignityofacurate。"Don’tyouseeit’snotnecessary？Don’tyouseethatwe’rebothinthesameboat？Yes，andjollysea—sick。"
　　Gregorycouldnotspeak，buthecouldnotfireeither，andhelookedhisquestion。
　　"Don’tyouseewe’vecheckmatedeachother？"criedSyme。"Ican’ttellthepoliceyouareananarchist。Youcan’ttelltheanarchistsI’mapoliceman。Icanonlywatchyou，knowingwhatyouare;youcanonlywatchme，knowingwhatIam。Inshort，it’salonely，intellectualduel，myheadagainstyours。I’mapolicemandeprivedofthehelpofthepolice。You，mypoorfellow，areananarchistdeprivedofthehelpofthatlawandorganisationwhichissoessentialtoanarchy。Theonesolitarydifferenceisinyourfavour。Youarenotsurroundedbyinquisitivepolicemen;Iamsurroundedbyinquisitiveanarchists。Icannotbetrayyou，butI
　　mightbetraymyself。Come，come！waitandseemebetraymyself。I
　　shalldoitsonicely。"
　　Gregoryputthepistolslowlydown，stillstaringatSymeasifhewereasea—monster。
　　"Idon’tbelieveinimmortality，"hesaidatlast，"butif，afterallthis，youweretobreakyourword，Godwouldmakeahellonlyforyou，tohowlinforever。"
　　"Ishallnotbreakmyword，"saidSymesternly，"norwillyoubreakyours。Hereareyourfriends。"
　　Themassoftheanarchistsenteredtheroomheavily，withaslouchingandsomewhatwearygait;butonelittleman，withablackbeardandglasses——amansomewhatofthetypeofMr。TimHealy——detachedhimself，andbustledforwardwithsomepapersinhishand。