The Swoop of the Vulture.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10708, 31 August 1912, Page 2

The Swoop of the Vulture.

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CHAPTER IV.—Continued

" "Will five- thousand, paid out of the estate as soon as I get control of it. be enough?"

"No," said the other decidedly. "My figure is ten thousand; hut if you like you can nay in two instalments. One as soon as you get control of the property, and the second, say in twelve months, provided that we are eq if ally successful in getting the young heir out of the way as well. Alter all, he is only an alien and usurper. I don't thinfc we need consider him much. As for your niece, it. will he difficult to console her for her loss."

"Dcnyer, what a scoundrel you are!" said the professor quietly, almost contemplatively. "When I commit a crime—as society wouldi call this operation—T do it from purely, unselfish motives. Personally, I don't profit to the extent of a sovereign. I do it simply in the interest;* of science, and because those interests are absolutely supreme, and cqiinot be served in any other way. But you! you do it just for money—mere money? Have you ever really thought what a contemptible thing it is to commit crime for money?' "You really must pardon if I decline to follow you into any of your metaphysical tangles," said the lawyer. "To he quite frank ivitb you, what your science is to you. money is to me. lam quite prepared to make it honestly, and to a certain extent T do. I don't see why I should not avail myself of it. Wherefore the question for me here is not yonr motives, nor has it-anything to do with the interests of science. It is just whether or not you are prepared to come to my terms." "It's a great deal of money, and it might be put to much better uses," said the professor, with a sigh of genuine regret. For, strange as it may seem, what he had just said was the absolute truth. "Still, there will be plenty left, so I don't think wo need quarrel over that. You can make ; out your bond, or whatever you may ' call it, and I will sign it in the morni ing. Then we must get to work." "I entirely agree with you," said Denyer. "But before finally com mi t- ! ting myself to what may, after all. be a rather risky piece of work, I think you ought, in common justice, i to tell me exactly.what the said work is going to be. I suppose you have i no objection to that?"

"Not the slightest," replied- - "the professor. "On the contrary, I think it will 1)0 distinctly advantageous that you should know the circumstances fully."

Ho took a pull at his cigar, and went on, leaning back in his chair, and fixing his eyes upon the lawyer's. "I may as well get to the point at once, and tell you a fact which I think yott will take without question, on ,the strength of such reputation as J have. I have discovered that Sir Godfrey is suffering, quite iinknotvn to himself or his ordinary medical adviser, from one of the most obscure diseases. Briefly it may be described as a divided personality. By that I mean a form of almost- unknown insanity, the principal symptom of which is the possibility of dividing, by certain known means, the personality of the subject into two entirely different and even absolutely antagonistic parts. "I need hardly tell you that in every human being there are what are called in ordinary language good and evil qualities. Instincts which make for what our moralists call the right and others for what they call the wrong,"

"Yes, yes, I follow you so far," said the lawyer. "No rijan ought to know that better than a man of my profession. But, all the same, you are getting me a bit out of my depth. Are you going to tell me that it is possible to divide a man into two and set the good against the bad, and vice versa? A sort of Jekyll and Hyde business."

"Oh, dear no! It is much more serious than that. When a person who understands this particular disease meets with a subject afflicted with it, it is quite possible for him to so treat the malady that, without any hlack magic of the Jekyll and Hyde sort, he call render either side of the subject's mental being totally unconscious of the doings of the other half. You follow me, I hope?" "Follow you!" exclaimed Denycr, getting up from his chair and putting his back to the fireplace. "I should think I do. Just now you called me a scoundrel! I'll be hanged if I know what to call you. I know that I am not everything that a moralist

BY OWEN MASTERS. Author of "His Heart's Desire," "One Impassioned Hour." "Oaptain Emlyn's Bride," "Tho Deverell Heritage,"" "Tho Ironmaster's Daughter," etc.

might wish mo to bo; but I tell you candidly that there is something diabolical about that idea of yours. From what you said, I gather that you have discovered that Sir Godfrey is suffering from a strange disease. You arc 'goinpi to divide his nature into two, and make the ovil. work against the good, for your own ends. And then —why, good Lord! you might as .well make a man his own murderer! And there you sit talking about these atrocious possibilities as quietly as I should hear the confession of a criminal whose defense I had to get up. To bo quite frank, Hairline, there is something uncanny about this that I don't altogether like."

"You have diagnosed the case to perfection. I moan Sir Godfrey's case. I have now studied him closely for some months, and am perfectly certain of my own diagnosis. With just a little assistance I will, mentally and morally sneaking, cut that man in two. One half shall go to sleep and forget. The other half, which to the world will look just like tho whole man, will do exactly as 1 want it to do. . In fact, I could drivo him —yes, even to murder!" "Or self-murder, which, under the circumstances, might perhaps !>e moro convenient," said the lawyer, leaning back in his chair again, and putting the tips of his fingers together. "Is that what you are driving at, Halkine?" "It miglit he necessary," said thu professor, "and it would certainly he possible." "Would it really?" said Denyer,. with something very like a sneer in his voice. "I don't know what crimes you have already committed; but if all you have" said is true, you are not a criminal—you are something more. Something that the language of criminality hasn't any word to describe. You can remain apparently innocent yourself, while you are making others criminals and self-murderers."

"I quite agree with you," said the ! professor, smiling at the very ohvious j expression of fear which came over his accomplice's face while he was speaking. "But you see, although it is rather difficult for me to explain it to you, science, like nature, considers ends not means; and where those ends ar? to he attained, there is .neither right nor wrong. When mother earth relieved herself of the internal strain hy the eruption of Martinique, she didn't consider the trifle of. the thirty or forty thousand lives that were lost in the process. Her end was simply the restoration of .the halnnce of volcanic force. The people died because, they happened to he there —that was all. She would have done just the same in an unpeopled desert, and since science is the hand-

j maid, the in+ernretpr of nature, he--(methods must bo the same. "Tn the present ease. J. as the servant of science, must act upon the s:!!')-. nrinciplcs." "And that moans, in p!a;n ftuglHi, that von are going to use this infernal science, or whatever it is, of yours, to make this unfortunate man commit a fraud on himself and hip adopted son. And further, if neees- ! sary, make liini dispose; of himself, when he becomes superfluous. And that you call science!" "Precisely," said the professor, still in the same impassive tone. ."While he is necessary ho will re- ' main; when he is unnecessary lie will probably disappear. But you needn't trouble yourself about that; I have asked him to come and have a little bachelor supper with us to-morrow night, and then you shall watch the beginning of the comedy which I propose to play. If it happens to end in tragedy, that will only be because it is necessary."

"Halkine," said the other, straightening up, "we have been friends for i> long time. I am about as dishonest and unscrupulous as disappointment and necessity ever made a man ; but you —you are not dishonest, because you are not human enough ; you are not unscrupulous, because you haven't any scruples. J do not know what you are. "I am not altogether sure that you are entirely human." "I'm not entirely sure of that myself," replied the professor." (To be Continued.)