ProfessordeWormsfellbackinhischairwithacuriousairofkindlycollapse。
　　"That’sapity，"hesaid，"becauseIam。"
　　Symesprangupstraight，sendingbackthebenchbehindhimwithacrash。
　　"Becauseyouarewhat？"hesaidthickly。"Youarewhat？"
　　"Iamapoliceman，"saidtheProfessorwithhisfirstbroadsmile。
　　andbeamingthroughhisspectacles。"Butasyouthinkpolicemanonlyarelativeterm，ofcourseIhavenothingtodowithyou。I
　　amintheBritishpoliceforce;butasyoutellmeyouarenotintheBritishpoliceforce，IcanonlysaythatImetyouinadynamiters’club。IsupposeIoughttoarrestyou。"AndwiththesewordshelaidonthetablebeforeSymeanexactfacsimileofthebluecardwhichSymehadinhisownwaistcoatpocket，thesymbolofhispowerfromthepolice。
　　Symehadforaflashthesensationthatthecosmoshadturnedexactlyupsidedown，thatalltreesweregrowingdownwardsandthatallstarswereunderhisfeet。Thencameslowlytheoppositeconviction。Forthelasttwenty—fourhoursthecosmoshadreallybeenupsidedown，butnowthecapsizeduniversehadcomerightsideupagain。Thisdevilfromwhomhehadbeenfleeingalldaywasonlyanelderbrotherofhisownhouse，whoontheothersideofthetablelaybackandlaughedathim。Hedidnotforthemomentaskanyquestionsofdetail;heonlyknewthehappyandsillyfactthatthisshadow，whichhadpursuedhimwithanintolerableoppressionofperil，wasonlytheshadowofafriendtryingtocatchhimup。
　　Heknewsimultaneouslythathewasafoolandafreeman。Forwithanyrecoveryfrommorbiditytheremustgoacertainhealthyhumiliation。Therecomesacertainpointinsuchconditionswhenonlythreethingsarepossible：firstaperpetuationofSatanicpride，secondlytears，andthirdlaughter。Syme’segotismheldhardtothefirstcourseforafewseconds，andthensuddenlyadoptedthethird。Takinghisownbluepoliceticketfromhisownwaistcoatpocket，hetosseditontothetable;thenheflunghisheadbackuntilhisspikeofyellowbeardalmostpointedattheceiling，andshoutedwithabarbariclaughter。
　　Eveninthatcloseden，perpetuallyfilledwiththedinofknives，plates，cans，clamorousvoices，suddenstrugglesandstampedes，therewassomethingHomericinSyme’smirthwhichmademanyhalf—drunkenmenlookround。
　　"Whatyerlaughingat，guv’nor？"askedonewonderinglabourerfromthedocks。
　　"Atmyself，"answeredSyme，andwentoffagainintotheagonyofhisecstaticreaction。
　　"Pullyourselftogether，"saidtheProfessor，"oryou’llgethysterical。Havesomemorebeer。I’lljoinyou。"
　　"Youhaven’tdrunkyourmilk，"saidSyme。
　　"Mymilk！"saidtheother，intonesofwitheringandunfathomablecontempt，"mymilk！DoyouthinkI’dlookatthebeastlystuffwhenI’moutofsightofthebloodyanarchists？We’reallChristiansinthisroom，thoughperhaps，"headded，glancingaroundatthereelingcrowd，"notstrictones。Finishmymilk？Greatblazes！yes，I’llfinishitrightenough！"andheknockedthetumbleroffthetable，makingacrashofglassandasplashofsilverfluid。
　　Symewasstaringathimwithahappycuriosity。
　　"Iunderstandnow，"hecried;"ofcourse，you’renotanoldmanatall。"
　　"Ican’ttakemyfaceoffhere，"repliedProfessordeWorms。"It’sratheranelaboratemake—up。AstowhetherI’manoldman，that’snotformetosay。Iwasthirty—eightlastbirthday。"
　　"Yes，butImean，"saidSymeimpatiently，"there’snothingthematterwithyou。"
　　"Yes，"answeredtheotherdispassionately。"Iamsubjecttocolds。"
　　Syme’slaughteratallthishadaboutitawildweaknessofrelief。
　　HelaughedattheideaoftheparalyticProfessorbeingreallyayoungactordressedupasifforthefoot—lights。Buthefeltthathewouldhavelaughedasloudlyifapepperpothadfallenover。
　　ThefalseProfessordrankandwipedhisfalsebeard。
　　"Didyouknow，"heasked，"thatthatmanGogolwasoneofus？"
　　"I？No，Ididn’tknowit，"answeredSymeinsomesurprise。"Butdidn’tyou？"
　　"Iknewnomorethanthedead，"repliedthemanwhocalledhimselfdeWorms。"IthoughtthePresidentwastalkingaboutme，andI
　　rattledinmyboots。"
　　"AndIthoughthewastalkingaboutme，"saidSyme，withhisratherrecklesslaughter。"Ihadmyhandonmyrevolverallthetime。"
　　"SohadI，"saidtheProfessorgrimly;"sohadGogolevidently。"
　　Symestruckthetablewithanexclamation。
　　"Why，therewerethreeofusthere！"hecried。"Threeoutofsevenisafightingnumber。Ifwehadonlyknownthatwewerethree！"
　　ThefaceofProfessordeWormsdarkened，andhedidnotlookup。
　　"Wewerethree，"hesaid。"Ifwehadbeenthreehundredwecouldstillhavedonenothing。"
　　"Notifwewerethreehundredagainstfour？"askedSyme，jeeringratherboisterously。
　　"No，"saidtheProfessorwithsobriety，"notifwewerethreehundredagainstSunday。"
　　AndthemerenamestruckSymecoldandserious;hislaughterhaddiedinhisheartbeforeitcoulddieonhislips。ThefaceoftheunforgettablePresidentsprangintohismindasstartlingasacolouredphotograph，andheremarkedthisdifferencebetweenSundayandallhissatellites，thattheirfaces，howeverfierceorsinister，becamegraduallyblurredbymemorylikeotherhumanfaces，whereasSunday’sseemedalmosttogrowmoreactualduringabsence，asifaman’spaintedportraitshouldslowlycomealive。
　　Theywerebothsilentforameasureofmoments，andthenSyme’sspeechcamewitharush，likethesuddenfoamingofchampagne。
　　"Professor，"hecried，"itisintolerable。Areyouafraidofthisman？"
　　TheProfessorliftedhisheavylids，andgazedatSymewithlarge，wide—open，blueeyesofanalmostetherealhonesty。
　　"Yes，Iam，"hesaidmildly。"Soareyou。"
　　Symewasdumbforaninstant。Thenherosetohisfeeterect，likeaninsultedman，andthrustthechairawayfromhim。
　　"Yes，"hesaidinavoiceindescribable，"youareright。Iamafraidofhim。ThereforeIswearbyGodthatIwillseekoutthismanwhomIfearuntilIfindhim，andstrikehimonthemouth。Ifheavenwerehisthroneandtheearthhisfootstool，IswearthatIwouldpullhimdown。"
　　"How？"askedthestaringProfessor。"Why？"
　　"BecauseIamafraidofhim，"saidSyme;"andnomanshouldleaveintheuniverseanythingofwhichheisafraid。"
　　DeWormsblinkedathimwithasortofblindwonder。Hemadeanefforttospeak，butSymewentoninalowvoice，butwithanundercurrentofinhumanexaltation——
　　"Whowouldcondescendtostrikedownthemerethingsthathedoesnotfear？Whowoulddebasehimselftobemerelybrave，likeanycommonprizefighter？Whowouldstooptobefearless——likeatree？
　　Fightthethingthatyoufear。YouremembertheoldtaleoftheEnglishclergymanwhogavethelastritestothebrigandofSicily，andhowonhisdeath—bedthegreatrobbersaid，’Icangiveyounomoney，butIcangiveyouadviceforalifetime：yourthumbontheblade，andstrikeupwards。’SoIsaytoyou，strikeupwards，ifyoustrikeatthestars。"
　　Theotherlookedattheceiling，oneofthetricksofhispose。
　　"Sundayisafixedstar，"hesaid。
　　"Youshallseehimafallingstar，"saidSyme，andputonhishat。
　　ThedecisionofhisgesturedrewtheProfessorvaguelytohisfeet。
　　"Haveyouanyidea，"heasked，withasortofbenevolentbewilderment，"exactlywhereyouaregoing？"
　　"Yes，"repliedSymeshortly，"IamgoingtopreventthisbombbeingthrowninParis。"
　　"Haveyouanyconceptionhow？"inquiredtheother。
　　"No，"saidSymewithequaldecision。
　　"Youremember，ofcourse，"resumedthesoi—disantdeWorms，pullinghisbeardandlookingoutofthewindow，"thatwhenwebrokeupratherhurriedlythewholearrangementsfortheatrocitywereleftintheprivatehandsoftheMarquisandDr。Bull。TheMarquisisbythistimeprobablycrossingtheChannel。ButwherehewillgoandwhathewilldoitisdoubtfulwhethereventhePresidentknows;
　　certainlywedon’tknow。TheonlymanwhodoesknowisDr。Bull。
　　"Confoundit！"criedSyme。"Andwedon’tknowwhereheis。"
　　"Yes，"saidtheotherinhiscurious，absent—mindedway，"Iknowwhereheismyself。"
　　"Willyoutellme？"askedSymewitheagereyes。
　　"Iwilltakeyouthere，"saidtheProfessor，andtookdownhisownhatfromapeg。
　　Symestoodlookingathimwithasortofrigidexcitement。
　　"Whatdoyoumean？"heaskedsharply。"Willyoujoinme？Willyoutaketherisk？"
　　"Youngman，"saidtheProfessorpleasantly，"IamamusedtoobservethatyouthinkIamacoward。AstothatIwillsayonlyoneword，andthatshallbeentirelyinthemannerofyourownphilosophicalrhetoric。YouthinkthatitispossibletopulldownthePresident。
　　Iknowthatitisimpossible，andIamgoingtotryit，"andopeningthetaverndoor，whichletinablastofbitterair，theywentouttogetherintothedarkstreetsbythedocks。
　　Mostofthesnowwasmeltedortrampledtomud，buthereandthereaclotofitstillshowedgreyratherthanwhiteinthegloom。Thesmallstreetsweresloppyandfullofpools，whichreflectedtheflaminglampsirregularly，andbyaccident，likefragmentsofsomeotherandfallenworld。Symefeltalmostdazedashesteppedthroughthisgrowingconfusionoflightsandshadows;buthiscompanionwalkedonwithacertainbriskness，towardswhere，attheendofthestreet，aninchortwoofthelamplitriverlookedlikeabarofflame。
　　"Whereareyougoing？"Symeinquired。
　　"Justnow，"answeredtheProfessor，"IamgoingjustroundthecornertoseewhetherDr。Bullhasgonetobed。Heishygienic，andretiresearly。"
　　"Dr。Bull！"exclaimedSyme。"Doesheliveroundthecorner？"
　　"No，"answeredhisfriend。"Asamatteroffacthelivessomewayoff，ontheothersideoftheriver，butwecantellfromherewhetherhehasgonetobed。"
　　Turningthecornerashespoke，andfacingthedimriver，fleckedwithflame，hepointedwithhissticktotheotherbank。OntheSurreysideatthispointthereranoutintotheThames，seemingalmosttooverhangit，abulkandclusterofthosetalltenements，dottedwithlightedwindows，andrisinglikefactorychimneystoanalmostinsaneheight。TheirspecialpoiseandpositionmadeoneblockofbuildingsespeciallylooklikeaTowerofBabelwithahundredeyes。Symehadneverseenanyofthesky—scrapingbuildingsinAmerica，sohecouldonlythinkofthebuildingsinadream。
　　Evenashestared，thehighestlightinthisinnumerablylightedturretabruptlywentout，asifthisblackArgushadwinkedathimwithoneofhisinnumerableeyes。
　　ProfessordeWormsswungroundonhisheel，andstruckhisstickagainsthisboot。
　　"Wearetoolate，"hesaid，"thehygienicDoctorhasgonetobed。"
　　"Whatdoyoumean？"askedSyme。"Doesheliveoverthere，then？"
　　"Yes，"saiddeWorms，"behindthatparticularwindowwhichyoucan’tsee。Comealongandgetsomedinner。Wemustcallonhimtomorrowmorning。"
　　Withoutfurtherparley，heledthewaythroughseveralby—waysuntiltheycameoutintotheflareandclamouroftheEastIndiaDockRoad。TheProfessor，whoseemedtoknowhiswayabouttheneighbourhood，proceededtoaplacewherethelineoflightedshopsfellbackintoasortofabrupttwilightandquiet，inwhichanoldwhiteinn，alloutofrepair，stoodbacksometwentyfeetfromtheroad。
　　"YoucanfindgoodEnglishinnsleftbyaccidenteverywhere，likefossils，"explainedtheProfessor。"IoncefoundadecentplaceintheWestEnd。"
　　"Isuppose，"saidSyme，smiling，"thatthisisthecorrespondingdecentplaceintheEastEnd？"
　　"Itis，"saidtheProfessorreverently，andwentin。
　　Inthatplacetheydinedandslept，bothverythoroughly。Thebeansandbacon，whichtheseunaccountablepeoplecookedwell，theastonishingemergenceofBurgundyfromtheircellars，crownedSyme’ssenseofanewcomradeshipandcomfort。Throughallthisordealhisroothorrorhadbeenisolation，andtherearenowordstoexpresstheabyssbetweenisolationandhavingoneally。Itmaybeconcededtothemathematiciansthatfouristwicetwo。Buttwoisnottwiceone;twoistwothousandtimesone。Thatiswhy，inspiteofahundreddisadvantages，theworldwillalwaysreturntomonogamy。
　　Symewasabletopouroutforthefirsttimethewholeofhisoutrageoustale，fromthetimewhenGregoryhadtakenhimtothelittletavernbytheriver。Hediditidlyandamply，inaluxuriantmonologue，asamanspeakswithveryoldfriends。Onhisside，also，themanwhohadimpersonatedProfessordeWormswasnotlesscommunicative。HisownstorywasalmostassillyasSyme’s。
　　"That’sagoodget—upofyours，"saidSyme，drainingaglassofMacon;"alotbetterthanoldGogol’s。EvenatthestartIthoughthewasabittoohairy。"
　　"Adifferenceofartistictheory，"repliedtheProfessorpensively。
　　"Gogolwasanidealist。Hemadeupastheabstractorplatonicidealofananarchist。ButIamarealist。Iamaportraitpainter。
　　But，indeed，tosaythatIamaportraitpainterisaninadequateexpression。Iamaportrait。"
　　"Idon’tunderstandyou，"saidSyme。
　　"Iamaportrait，"repeatedtheProfessor。"IamaportraitofthecelebratedProfessordeWorms，whois，Ibelieve，inNaples。"
　　"Youmeanyouaremadeuplikehim，"saidSyme。"Butdoesn’theknowthatyouaretakinghisnoseinvain？"
　　"Heknowsitrightenough，"repliedhisfriendcheerfully。
　　"Thenwhydoesn’thedenounceyou？"
　　"Ihavedenouncedhim，"answeredtheProfessor。
　　"Doexplainyourself，"saidSyme。
　　"Withpleasure，ifyoudon’tmindhearingmystory，"repliedtheeminentforeignphilosopher。"Iambyprofessionanactor，andmynameisWilks。WhenIwasonthestageImixedwithallsortsofBohemianandblackguardcompany。SometimesItouchedtheedgeoftheturf，sometimestheriff—raffofthearts，andoccasionallythepoliticalrefugee。InsomedenofexileddreamersIwasintroducedtothegreatGermanNihilistphilosopher，ProfessordeWorms。Ididnotgathermuchabouthimbeyondhisappearance，whichwasverydisgusting，andwhichIstudiedcarefully。IunderstoodthathehadprovedthatthedestructiveprincipleintheuniversewasGod;
　　henceheinsistedontheneedforafuriousandincessantenergy，rendingallthingsinpieces。Energy，hesaid，wastheAll。Hewaslame，shortsighted，andpartiallyparalytic。WhenImethimIwasinafrivolousmood，andIdislikedhimsomuchthatIresolvedtoimitatehim。IfIhadbeenadraughtsmanIwouldhavedrawnacaricature。Iwasonlyanactor，Icouldonlyactacaricature。I
　　mademyselfupintowhatwasmeantforawildexaggerationoftheoldProfessor’sdirtyoldself。WhenIwentintotheroomfullofhissupportersIexpectedtobereceivedwitharoaroflaughter，or（iftheyweretoofargone）witharoarofindignationattheinsult。IcannotdescribethesurpriseIfeltwhenmyentrancewasreceivedwitharespectfulsilence，followed（whenIhadfirstopenedmylips）withamurmurofadmiration。Thecurseoftheperfectartisthadfallenuponme。Ihadbeentoosubtle，Ihadbeentootrue。TheythoughtIreallywasthegreatNihilistProfessor。Iwasahealthy—mindedyoungmanatthetime，andI
　　confessthatitwasablow。BeforeIcouldfullyrecover，however，twoorthreeoftheseadmirersranuptomeradiatingindignation，andtoldmethatapublicinsulthadbeenputuponmeinthenextroom。Iinquireditsnature。Itseemedthatanimpertinentfellowhaddressedhimselfupasapreposterousparodyofmyself。Ihaddrunkmorechampagnethanwasgoodforme，andinaflashoffollyIdecidedtoseethesituationthrough。ConsequentlyitwastomeettheglareofthecompanyandmyownliftedeyebrowsandfreezingeyesthattherealProfessorcameintotheroom。
　　"Ineedhardlysaytherewasacollision。ThepessimistsallroundmelookedanxiouslyfromoneProfessortotheotherProfessortoseewhichwasreallythemorefeeble。ButIwon。Anoldmaninpoorhealth，likemyrival，couldnotbeexpectedtobesoimpressivelyfeebleasayoungactorintheprimeoflife。Yousee，hereallyhadparalysis，andworkingwithinthisdefinitelimitation，hecouldn’tbesojollyparalyticasIwas。Thenhetriedtoblastmyclaimsintellectually。Icounteredthatbyaverysimpledodge。
　　Wheneverhesaidsomethingthatnobodybuthecouldunderstand，I
　　repliedwithsomethingwhichIcouldnotevenunderstandmyself。
　　’Idon’tfancy，’hesaid，’thatyoucouldhaveworkedouttheprinciplethatevolutionisonlynegation，sincethereinheresinittheintroductionoflacuna，whichareanessentialofdifferentiation。’Irepliedquitescornfully，’YoureadallthatupinPinckwerts;thenotionthatinvolutionfunctionedeugenicallywasexposedlongagobyGlumpe。’ItisunnecessaryformetosaythatthereneverweresuchpeopleasPinckwertsandGlumpe。Butthepeopleallround（rathertomysurprise）seemedtorememberthemquitewell，andtheProfessor，findingthatthelearnedandmysteriousmethodlefthimratheratthemercyofanenemyslightlydeficientinscruples，fellbackuponamorepopularformofwit。
　　’Isee，’hesneered，’youprevaillikethefalsepiginAesop。’
　　’Andyoufail，’Ianswered，smiling，’likethehedgehoginMontaigne。’NeedIsaythatthereisnohedgehoginMontaigne？
　　’Yourclaptrapcomesoff，’hesaid;’sowouldyourbeard。’Ihadnointelligentanswertothis，whichwasquitetrueandratherwitty。
　　ButIlaughedheartily，answered，’LikethePantheist’sboots，’atrandom，andturnedonmyheelwithallthehonoursofvictory。TherealProfessorwasthrownout，butnotwithviolence，thoughonemantriedverypatientlytopulloffhisnose。Heisnow，I
　　believe，receivedeverywhereinEuropeasadelightfulimpostor。
　　Hisapparentearnestnessandanger，yousee，makehimallthemoreentertaining。"
　　"Well，"saidSyme，"Icanunderstandyourputtingonhisdirtyoldbeardforanight’spracticaljoke，butIdon’tunderstandyournevertakingitoffagain。"
　　"Thatistherestofthestory，"saidtheimpersonator。"WhenI
　　myselfleftthecompany，followedbyreverentapplause，Iwentlimpingdownthedarkstreet，hopingthatIshouldsoonbefarenoughawaytobeabletowalklikeahumanbeing。Tomyastonishment，asIwasturningthecorner，Ifeltatouchontheshoulder，andturning，foundmyselfundertheshadowofanenormouspoliceman。HetoldmeIwaswanted。Istruckasortofparalyticattitude，andcriedinahighGermanaccent，’Yes，Iamwanted——bytheoppressedoftheworld。Youarearrestingmeonthechargeofbeingthegreatanarchist，ProfessordeWorms。’Thepolicemanimpassivelyconsultedapaperinhishand，’No，sir，’hesaidcivilly，’atleast，notexactly，sir。Iamarrestingyouonthechargeofnotbeingthecelebratedanarchist，ProfessordeWorms。’
　　Thischarge，ifitwascriminalatall，wascertainlythelighterofthetwo，andIwentalongwiththeman，doubtful，butnotgreatlydismayed。Iwasshownintoanumberofrooms，andeventuallyintothepresenceofapoliceofficer，whoexplainedthataseriouscampaignhadbeenopenedagainstthecentresofanarchy，andthatthis，mysuccessfulmasquerade，mightbeofconsiderablevaluetothepublicsafety。Heofferedmeagoodsalaryandthislittlebluecard。Thoughourconversationwasshort，hestruckmeasamanofverymassivecommonsenseandhumour;butIcannottellyoumuchabouthimpersonally，because——"
　　Symelaiddownhisknifeandfork。
　　"Iknow，"hesaid，"becauseyoutalkedtohiminadarkroom。"
　　ProfessordeWormsnoddedanddrainedhisglass。
　　CHAPTERIX
　　THEMANINSPECTACLES
　　"BURGUNDYisajollything，"saidtheProfessorsadly，ashesethisglassdown。
　　"Youdon’tlookasifitwere，"saidSyme;"youdrinkitasifitweremedicine。"
　　"Youmustexcusemymanner，"saidtheProfessordismally，"mypositionisratheracuriousone。InsideIamreallyburstingwithboyishmerriment;butIactedtheparalyticProfessorsowell，thatnowIcan’tleaveoff。SothatwhenIamamongfriends，andhavenoneedatalltodisguisemyself，Istillcan’thelpspeakingslowandwrinklingmyforehead——justasifitweremyforehead。Icanbequitehappy，youunderstand，butonlyinaparalyticsortofway。
　　Themostbuoyantexclamationsleapupinmyheart，buttheycomeoutofmymouthquitedifferent。Youshouldhearmesay，’Buckup，oldcock！’Itwouldbringtearstoyoureyes。"
　　"Itdoes，"saidSyme;"butIcannothelpthinkingthatapartfromallthatyouarereallyabitworried。"
　　TheProfessorstartedalittleandlookedathimsteadily。
　　"Youareaverycleverfellow，"hesaid，"itisapleasuretoworkwithyou。Yes，Ihaveratheraheavycloudinmyhead。Thereisagreatproblemtoface，"andhesankhisbaldbrowinhistwohands。
　　Thenhesaidinalowvoice——
　　"Canyouplaythepiano？"
　　"Yes，"saidSymeinsimplewonder，"I’msupposedtohaveagoodtouch。"
　　Then，astheotherdidnotspeak，headded——
　　"Itrustthegreatcloudislifted。"
　　Afteralongsilence，theProfessorsaidoutofthecavernousshadowofhishands——
　　"Itwouldhavedonejustaswellifyoucouldworkatypewriter。"
　　"Thankyou，"saidSyme，"youflatterme。"
　　"Listentome，"saidtheother，"andrememberwhomwehavetoseetomorrow。YouandIaregoingtomorrowtoattemptsomethingwhichisverymuchmoredangerousthantryingtostealtheCrownJewelsoutoftheTower。Wearetryingtostealasecretfromaverysharp，verystrong，andverywickedman。Ibelievethereisnoman，exceptthePresident，ofcourse，whoissoseriouslystartlingandformidableasthatlittlegrinningfellowingoggles。Hehasnotperhapsthewhite—hotenthusiasmuntodeath，themadmartyrdomforanarchy，whichmarkstheSecretary。ButthenthatveryfanaticismintheSecretaryhasahumanpathos，andisalmostaredeemingtrait。ButthelittleDoctorhasabrutalsanitythatismoreshockingthantheSecretary’sdisease。Don’tyounoticehisdetestablevirilityandvitality。Hebounceslikeanindia—rubberball。Dependonit，Sundaywasnotasleep（Iwonderifheeversleeps？）whenhelockedupalltheplansofthisoutrageintheround，blackheadofDr。Bull。"
　　"Andyouthink，"saidSyme，"thatthisuniquemonsterwillbesoothedifIplaythepianotohim？"
　　"Don’tbeanass，"saidhismentor。"Imentionedthepianobecauseitgivesonequickandindependentfingers。Syme，ifwearetogothroughthisinterviewandcomeoutsaneoralive，wemusthavesomecodeofsignalsbetweenusthatthisbrutewillnotsee。I
　　havemadearoughalphabeticalcyphercorrespondingtothefivefingers——likethis，see，"andherippledwithhisfingersonthewoodentable——"BAD，bad，awordwemayfrequentlyrequire。"
　　Symepouredhimselfoutanotherglassofwine，andbegantostudythescheme。Hewasabnormallyquickwithhisbrainsatpuzzles，andwithhishandsatconjuring，anditdidnottakehimlongtolearnhowhemightconveysimplemessagesbywhatwouldseemtobeidletapsuponatableorknee。Butwineandcompanionshiphadalwaystheeffectofinspiringhimtoafarcicalingenuity，andtheProfessorsoonfoundhimselfstrugglingwiththetoovastenergyofthenewlanguage，asitpassedthroughtheheatedbrainofSyme。
　　"Wemusthaveseveralword—signs，"saidSymeseriously——"wordsthatwearelikelytowant，fineshadesofmeaning。Myfavouritewordis’coeval’。What’syours？"
　　"Dostopplayingthegoat，"saidtheProfessorplaintively。"Youdon’tknowhowseriousthisis。"
　　"’Lush’too，"saidSyme，shakinghisheadsagaciously，"wemusthave’lush’——wordappliedtograss，don’tyouknow？"
　　"Doyouimagine，"askedtheProfessorfuriously，"thatwearegoingtotalktoDr。Bullaboutgrass？"
　　"Thereareseveralwaysinwhichthesubjectcouldbeapproached，"
　　saidSymereflectively，"andthewordintroducedwithoutappearingforced。Wemightsay，’Dr。Bull，asarevolutionist，yourememberthatatyrantonceadvisedustoeatgrass;andindeedmanyofus，lookingonthefreshlushgrassofsummer"’
　　"Doyouunderstand，"saidtheother，"thatthisisatragedy？"
　　"Perfectly，"repliedSyme;"alwaysbecomicinatragedy。Whatthedeuceelsecanyoudo？Iwishthislanguageofyourshadawiderscope。Isupposewecouldnotextenditfromthefingerstothetoes？Thatwouldinvolvepullingoffourbootsandsocksduringtheconversation，whichhoweverunobtrusivelyperformed——"
　　"Syme，"saidhisfriendwithasternsimplicity，"gotobed！"
　　Syme，however，satupinbedforaconsiderabletimemasteringthenewcode。Hewasawakenednextmorningwhiletheeastwasstillsealedwithdarkness，andfoundhisgrey—beardedallystandinglikeaghostbesidehisbed。
　　Symesatupinbedblinking;thenslowlycollectedhisthoughts，threwoffthebed—clothes，andstoodup。Itseemedtohiminsomecuriouswaythatallthesafetyandsociabilityofthenightbeforefellwiththebedclothesoffhim，andhestoodupinanairofcolddanger。Hestillfeltanentiretrustandloyaltytowardshiscompanion;butitwasthetrustbetweentwomengoingtothescaffold。
　　"Well，"saidSymewithaforcedcheerfulnessashepulledonhistrousers，"Idreamtofthatalphabetofyours。Didittakeyoulongtomakeitup？"
　　TheProfessormadenoanswer，butgazedinfrontofhimwitheyesthecolourofawintrysea;soSymerepeatedhisquestion。
　　"Isay，didittakeyoulongtoinventallthis？I’mconsideredgoodatthesethings，anditwasagoodhour’sgrind。Didyoulearnitallonthespot？"
　　TheProfessorwassilent;hiseyeswerewideopen，andheworeafixedbutverysmallsmile。
　　"Howlongdidittakeyou？"
　　TheProfessordidnotmove。
　　"Confoundyou，can’tyouanswer？"calledoutSyme，inasuddenangerthathadsomethinglikefearunderneath。WhetherornotheProfessorcouldanswer，hedidnot。
　　Symestoodstaringbackatthestifffacelikeparchmentandtheblank，blueeyes。HisfirstthoughtwasthattheProfessorhadgonemad，buthissecondthoughtwasmorefrightful。Afterall，whatdidheknowaboutthisqueercreaturewhomhehadheedlesslyacceptedasafriend？Whatdidheknow，exceptthatthemanhadbeenattheanarchistbreakfastandhadtoldhimaridiculoustale？HowimprobableitwasthatthereshouldbeanotherfriendtherebesideGogol！Wasthisman’ssilenceasensationalwayofdeclaringwar？
　　Wasthisadamantinestareafterallonlytheawfulsneerofsomethreefoldtraitor，whohadturnedforthelasttime？Hestoodandstrainedhisearsinthisheartlesssilence。Healmostfanciedhecouldheardynamiterscometocapturehimshiftingsoftlyinthecorridoroutside。
　　Thenhiseyestrayeddownwards，andheburstoutlaughing。ThoughtheProfessorhimselfstoodthereasvoicelessasastatue，hisfivedumbfingersweredancingaliveuponthedeadtable。Symewatchedthetwinklingmovementsofthetalkinghand，andreadclearlythemessage——
　　"Iwillonlytalklikethis。Wemustgetusedtoit。"
　　Herappedouttheanswerwiththeimpatienceofrelief——
　　"Allright。Let’sgetouttobreakfast。"
　　Theytooktheirhatsandsticksinsilence;butasSymetookhissword—stick，heheldithard。
　　Theypausedforafewminutesonlytostuffdowncoffeeandcoarsethicksandwichesatacoffeestall，andthenmadetheirwayacrosstheriver，whichunderthegreyandgrowinglightlookedasdesolateasAcheron。Theyreachedthebottomofthehugeblockofbuildingswhichtheyhadseenfromacrosstheriver，andbeganinsilencetomountthenakedandnumberlessstonesteps，onlypausingnowandthentomakeshortremarksontherailofthebanisters。Atabouteveryotherflighttheypassedawindow;eachwindowshowedthemapaleandtragicdawnliftingitselflaboriouslyoverLondon。
　　Fromeachtheinnumerableroofsofslatelookedliketheleadensurgesofagrey，troubledseaafterrain。Symewasincreasinglyconsciousthathisnewadventurehadsomehowaqualityofcoldsanityworsethanthewildadventuresofthepast。Lastnight，forinstance，thetalltenementshadseemedtohimlikeatowerinadream。Ashenowwentupthewearyandperpetualsteps，hewasdauntedandbewilderedbytheiralmostinfiniteseries。Butitwasnotthehothorrorofadreamorofanythingthatmightbeexaggerationordelusion。Theirinfinitywasmoreliketheemptyinfinityofarithmetic，somethingunthinkable，yetnecessarytothought。Oritwaslikethestunningstatementsofastronomyaboutthedistanceofthefixedstars。Hewasascendingthehouseofreason，athingmorehideousthanunreasonitself。
　　BythetimetheyreachedDr。Bull’slanding，alastwindowshowedthemaharsh，whitedawnedgedwithbanksofakindofcoarsered，morelikeredclaythanredcloud。AndwhentheyenteredDr。Bull’sbaregarretitwasfulloflight。
　　Symehadbeenhauntedbyahalfhistoricmemoryinconnectionwiththeseemptyroomsandthatausteredaybreak。ThemomenthesawthegarretandDr。Bullsittingwritingatatable，herememberedwhatthememorywas——theFrenchRevolution。Thereshouldhavebeentheblackoutlineofaguillotineagainstthatheavyredandwhiteofthemorning。Dr。Bullwasinhiswhiteshirtandblackbreechesonly;hiscropped，darkheadmightwellhavejustcomeoutofitswig;hemighthavebeenMaratoramoreslipshodRobespierre。
　　Yetwhenhewasseenproperly，theFrenchfancyfellaway。TheJacobinswereidealists;therewasaboutthismanamurderousmaterialism。HisDositiongavehimasomewhatnewappearance。Thestrong，whitelightofmorningcomingfromonesidecreatingsharpshadows，madehimseembothmorepaleandmoreangularthanhehadlookedatthebreakfastonthebalcony。Thusthetwoblackglassesthatencasedhiseyesmightreallyhavebeenblackcavitiesinhisskull，makinghimlooklikeadeath’s—head。And，indeed，ifeverDeathhimselfsatwritingatawoodentable，itmighthavebeenhe。
　　Helookedupandsmiledbrightlyenoughasthemencamein，androsewiththeresilientrapidityofwhichtheProfessorhadspoken。Hesetchairsforbothofthem，andgoingtoapegbehindthedoor，proceededtoputonacoatandwaistcoatofrough，darktweed;hebuttoneditupneatly，andcamebacktositdownathistable。
　　Thequietgoodhumourofhismannerlefthistwoopponentshelpless。ItwaswithsomemomentarydifficultythattheProfessorbrokesilenceandbegan，"I’msorrytodisturbyousoearly，comrade，"saidhe，withacarefulresumptionoftheslowdeWormsmanner。"YouhavenodoubtmadeallthearrangementsfortheParisaffair？"Thenheaddedwithinfiniteslowness，"Wehaveinformationwhichrendersintolerableanythinginthenatureofamoment’sdelay。"
　　Dr。Bullsmiledagain，butcontinuedtogazeonthemwithoutspeaking。TheProfessorresumed，apausebeforeeachwearyword——
　　"Pleasedonotthinkmeexcessivelyabrupt;butIadviseyoutoalterthoseplans，orifitistoolateforthat，tofollowyouragentwithallthesupportyoucangetforhim。ComradeSymeandIhavehadanexperiencewhichitwouldtakemoretimetorecountthanwecanafford，ifwearetoactonit。Iwill，however，relatetheoccurrenceindetail，evenattheriskoflosingtime，ifyoureallyfeelthatitisessentialtotheunderstandingoftheproblemwehavetodiscuss。"
　　Hewasspinningouthissentences，makingthemintolerablylongandlingering，inthehopeofmaddeningthepracticallittleDoctorintoanexplosionofimpatiencewhichmightshowhishand。
　　ButthelittleDoctorcontinuedonlytostareandsmile，andthemonologuewasuphillwork。Symebegantofeelanewsicknessanddespair。TheDoctor’ssmileandsilencewerenotatalllikethecatalepticstareandhorriblesilencewhichhehadconfrontedintheProfessorhalfanhourbefore。AbouttheProfessor’smakeupandallhisanticstherewasalwayssomethingmerelygrotesque，likeagollywog。SymerememberedthosewildwoesofyesterdayasoneremembersbeingafraidofBogyinchildhood。Butherewasdaylight;herewasahealthy，square—shoulderedmanintweeds，notoddsavefortheaccidentofhisuglyspectacles，notglaringorgrinningatall，butsmilingsteadilyandnotsayingaword。
　　Thewholehadasenseofunbearablereality。UndertheincreasingsunlightthecoloursoftheDoctor’scomplexion，thepatternofhistweeds，grewandexpandedoutrageously，assuchthingsgrowtooimportantinarealisticnovel。Buthissmilewasquiteslight，theposeofhisheadpolite;theonlyuncannythingwashissilence。
　　"AsIsay，"resumedtheProfessor，likeamantoilingthroughheavysand，"theincidentthathasoccurredtousandhasledustoaskforinformationabouttheMarquis，isonewhichyoumaythinkitbettertohavenarrated;butasitcameinthewayofComradeSymeratherthanme——"
　　Hiswordsheseemedtobedraggingoutlikewordsinananthem;
　　butSyme，whowaswatching，sawhislongfingersrattlequicklyontheedgeofthecrazytable。Hereadthemessage，"Youmustgoon。Thisdevilhassuckedmedry！"
　　Symeplungedintothebreachwiththatbravadoofimprovisationwhichalwayscametohimwhenhewasalarmed。
　　"Yes，thethingreallyhappenedtome，"hesaidhastily。"Ihadthegoodfortunetofallintoconversationwithadetectivewhotookme，thankstomyhat，forarespectableperson。Wishingtoclinchmyreputationforrespectability，ItookhimandmadehimverydrunkattheSavoy。Underthisinfluencehebecamefriendly，andtoldmeinsomanywordsthatwithinadayortwotheyhopetoarresttheMarquisinFrance。
　　SounlessyouorIcangetonhistrack——"
　　TheDoctorwasstillsmilinginthemostfriendlyway，andhisprotectedeyeswerestillimpenetrable。TheProfessorsignalledtoSymethathewouldresumehisexplanation，andhebeganagainwiththesameelaboratecalm。
　　"Symeimmediatelybroughtthisinformationtome，andwecameheretogethertoseewhatuseyouwouldbeinclinedtomakeofit。Itseemstomeunquestionablyurgentthat——"
　　AllthistimeSymehadbeenstaringattheDoctoralmostassteadilyastheDoctorstaredattheProfessor，butquitewithoutthesmile。Thenervesofbothcomrades—in—armswerenearsnappingunderthatstrainofmotionlessamiability，whenSymesuddenlyleantforwardandidlytappedtheedgeofthetable。Hismessagetohisallyran，"Ihaveanintuition。"
　　TheProfessor，withscarcelyapauseinhismonologue，signalledback，"Thensitonit。"
　　Symetelegraphed，"Itisquiteextraordinary。"
　　Theotheranswered，"Extraordinaryrot！"
　　Symesaid，"Iamapoet。"
　　Theotherretorted，"Youareadeadman。"
　　Symehadgonequitereduptohisyellowhair，andhiseyeswereburningfeverishly。Ashesaidhehadanintuition，andithadrisentoasortoflightheadedcertainty。Resuminghissymbolictaps，hesignalledtohisfriend，"Youscarcelyrealisehowpoeticmyintuitionis。Ithasthatsuddenqualitywesometimesfeelinthecomingofspring。"
　　Hethenstudiedtheansweronhisfriend’sfingers。Theanswerwas，"Gotohell！"
　　TheProfessorthenresumedhismerelyverbalmonologueaddressedtotheDoctor。
　　"PerhapsIshouldrathersay，"saidSymeonhisfingers，"thatitresemblesthatsuddensmelloftheseawhichmaybefoundintheheartoflushwoods。"
　　Hiscompaniondisdainedtoreply。
　　"Oryetagain，"tappedSyme，"itispositive，asisthepassionateredhairofabeautifulwoman。"
　　TheProfessorwascontinuinghisspeech，butinthemiddleofitSymedecidedtoact。Heleantacrossthetable，andsaidinavoicethatcouldnotbeneglected——
　　"Dr。Bull！"
　　TheDoctor’ssleekandsmilingheaddidnotmove，buttheycouldhaveswornthatunderhisdarkglasseshiseyesdartedtowardsSyme。
　　"Dr。Bull，"saidSyme，inavoicepeculiarlypreciseandcourteous，"wouldyoudomeasmallfavour？Wouldyoubesokindastotakeoffyourspectacles？"
　　TheProfessorswungroundonhisseat，andstaredatSymewithasortoffrozenfuryofastonishment。Syme，likeamanwhohasthrownhislifeandfortuneonthetable，leanedforwardwithafieryface。TheDoctordidnotmove。
　　Forafewsecondstherewasasilenceinwhichonecouldhearapindrop，splitoncebythesinglehootofadistantsteamerontheThames。ThenDr。Bullroseslowly，stillsmiling，andtookoffhisspectacles。
　　Symesprangtohisfeet，steppingbackwardsalittle，likeachemicallecturerfromasuccessfulexplosion。Hiseyeswerelikestars，andforaninstanthecouldonlypointwithoutspeaking。
　　TheProfessorhadalsostartedtohisfeet，forgetfulofhissupposedparalysis。HeleantonthebackofthechairandstareddoubtfullyatDr。Bull，asiftheDoctorhadbeenturnedintoatoadbeforehiseyes。Andindeeditwasalmostasgreatatransformationscene。
　　Thetwodetectivessawsittinginthechairbeforethemaveryboyish—lookingyoungman，withveryfrankandhappyhazeleyes，anopenexpression，cockneyclotheslikethoseofacityclerk，andanunquestionablebreathabouthimofbeingverygoodandrathercommonplace。Thesmilewasstillthere，butitmighthavebeenthefirstsmileofababy。
　　"IknewIwasapoet，"criedSymeinasortofecstasy。"IknewmyintuitionwasasinfallibleasthePope。Itwasthespectaclesthatdidit！Itwasallthespectacles。Giventhosebeastlyblackeyes，andalltherestofhimhishealthandhisjollylooks，madehimalivedevilamongdeadones。"
　　"Itcertainlydoesmakeaqueerdifference，"saidtheProfessorshakily。"ButasregardstheprojectofDr。Bull——"
　　"Projectbedamned！"roaredSyme，besidehimself。"Lookathim！
　　Lookathisface，lookathiscollar，lookathisblessedboots！
　　Youdon’tsuppose，doyou，thatthatthing’sananarchist？"
　　"Syme！"criedtheotherinanapprehensiveagony。
　　"Why，byGod，"saidSyme，"I’lltaketheriskofthatmyself！Dr。
　　Bull，Iamapoliceofficer。There’smycard，"andheflungdownthebluecarduponthetable。
　　TheProfessorstillfearedthatallwaslost;buthewasloyal。Hepulledouthisownofficialcardandputitbesidehisfriend’s。
　　Thenthethirdmanburstoutlaughing，andforthefirsttimethatmorningtheyheardhisvoice。
　　"I’mawfullygladyouchapshavecomesoearly，"hesaid，withasortofschoolboyflippancy，"forwecanallstartforFrancetogether。Yes，I’mintheforcerightenough，"andheflickedabluecardtowardsthemlightlyasamatterofform。
　　Clappingabriskbowleronhisheadandresuminghisgoblinglasses，theDoctormovedsoquicklytowardsthedoor，thattheothersinstinctivelyfollowedhim。Symeseemedalittledistrait，andashepassedunderthedoorwayhesuddenlystruckhisstickonthestonepassagesothatitrang。
　　"ButLordGodAlmighty，"hecriedout，"ifthisisallright，thereweremoredamneddetectivesthanthereweredamneddynamitersatthedamnedCouncil！"
　　"Wemighthavefoughteasily，"saidBull;"wewerefouragainstthree。"
　　TheProfessorwasdescendingthestairs，buthisvoicecameupfrombelow。
　　"No，"saidthevoice，"wewerenotfouragainstthree——wewerenotsolucky。WewerefouragainstOne。"
　　Theotherswentdownthestairsinsilence。
　　TheyoungmancalledBull，withaninnocentcourtesycharacteristicofhim，insistedongoinglastuntiltheyreachedthestreet;buttherehisownrobustrapidityasserteditselfunconsciously，andhewalkedquicklyonaheadtowardsarailwayinquiryoffice，talkingtotheothersoverhisshoulder。
　　"Itisjollytogetsomepals，"hesaid。"I’vebeenhalfdeadwiththejumps，beingquitealone。InearlyflungmyarmsroundGogolandembracedhim，whichwouldhavebeenimprudent。Ihopeyouwon’tdespisemeforhavingbeeninabluefunk。"
　　"Allthebluedevilsinbluehell，"saidSyme，"contributedtomybluefunk！Buttheworstdevilwasyouandyourinfernalgoggles。"
　　Theyoungmanlaugheddelightedly。