The Magician by W. Somerset Maugham (ebook reader macos TXT) 📕

“I was at the House.”

“Then you must have been there with Frank Hurrell.”

“Now assistant physician at St. Luke’s Hospital. He was one of my most intimate friends.”

“I’ll write and ask him about you.”

“I’m dying to know what you did with all the lions you slaughtered,” said Susie Boyd.

The man’s effrontery did not exasperate her as it obviously exasperated Margaret and Arthur. He amused her, and she was anxious to make him talk.

“They decorate the floors of Skene, which is the name of my place in Staffordshire.” He paused for a moment to light a cigar. “I am the only man alive who has killed three lions with three successive shots.”

“I should have thought you could have demolished them by the effects of your oratory,” said Arthur.

Oliver leaned back and placed his two large hands on the table.

“Burkhardt, a German with whom I was shooting, was down with fever and could not stir from his bed. I was awakened one night by the uneasiness of my oxen, and I heard the roaring of lions close at hand. I took my carbine and came out of my tent. There was only the meagre light of the moon. I walked alone, for I knew natives could be of no use to me. Presently I came upon the carcass of an antelope, half-consumed, and I made up my mind to wait for the return of the lions. I hid myself among the boulders twenty paces from the prey. All about me was the immensity of Africa and the silence. I waited, motionless, hour after hour, till the dawn was nearly at hand. At last three lions appeared over a rock. I had noticed, the day before, spoor of a lion and two females.”

“May I ask how you could distinguish the sex?” asked Arthur, incredulously.

“The prints of a lion’s fore feet are disproportionately larger than those of the hind feet. The fore feet and hind feet of the lioness are nearly the same size.”

“Pray go on,” said Susie.

“They came into full view, and in the dim light, as they stood chest on, they appeared as huge as the strange beasts of the Arabian tales. I aimed at the lioness which stood nearest to me and fired. Without a sound, like a bullock felled at one blow, she dropped. The lion gave vent to a sonorous roar. Hastily I slipped another cartridge in my rifle. Then I became conscious that he had seen me. He lowered his head, and his crest was erect. His lifted tail was twitching, his lips were drawn back from the red gums, and I saw his great white fangs. Living fire flashed from his eyes, and he growled incessantly. Then he advanced a few steps, his head held low; and his eyes were fixed on mine with a look of rage. Suddenly he jerked up his tail, and when a lion does this he charges. I got a quick sight on his chest and fired. He reared up on his hind legs, roaring loudly and clawing at the air, and fell back dead. One lioness remained, and through the smoke I saw her spring to her feet and rush towards me. Escape was impossible, for behind me were high boulders that I could not climb. She came on with hoarse, coughing grunts, and with desperate courage I fired my remaining barrel. I missed her clean. I took one step backwards in the hope of getting a cartridge into my rifle, and fell, scarcely two lengths in front of the furious beast. She missed me. I owed my safety to that fall. And then suddenly I found that she had collapsed. I had hit her after all. My bullet went clean through her heart, but the spring had carried her forwards. When I scrambled to my feet I found that she was dying. I walked back to my camp and ate a capital breakfast.”

Oliver Haddo’s story was received with astonished silence. No one could assert that it was untrue, but he told it with a grandiloquence that carried no conviction. Arthur would have wagered a considerable sum that there was no word of truth in it. He had never met a person of this kind before, and could not understand what pleasure there might be in the elaborate invention of improbable adventures.

“You are evidently very brave,” he said.

“To follow a wounded lion into thick cover is probably the most dangerous proceeding in the world,” said Haddo calmly. “It calls for the utmost coolness and for iron nerve.”

The answer had an odd effect on Arthur. He gave Haddo a rapid glance, and was seized suddenly with uncontrollable laughter. He leaned back in his chair and roared. His hilarity affected the others, and they broke into peal upon peal of laughter. Oliver watched them gravely. He seemed neither disconcerted nor surprised. When Arthur recovered himself, he found Haddo’s singular eyes fixed on him.

“Your laughter reminds me of the crackling of thorns under a pot,” he said.

Haddo looked round at the others. Though his gaze preserved its fixity, his lips broke into a queer, sardonic smile.

“It must be plain even to the feeblest intelligence that a man can only command the elementary spirits if he is without fear. A capricious mind can never rule the sylphs, nor a fickle disposition the undines.”

Arthur stared at him with amazement. He did not know what on earth the man was talking about. Haddo paid no heed.

“But if the adept is active, pliant, and strong, the whole world will be at his command. He will pass through the storm and no rain shall fall upon his head. The wind will not displace a single fold of his garment. He will go through fire and not be burned.”

Dr. Porhoët ventured upon an explanation of these cryptic utterances.

“These ladies are unacquainted with the mysterious beings of whom you speak, cher ami. They should know that during the Middle Ages imagination peopled the four