Day and Night Stories

on the edge of a chair; in the manner he pecked at his food; in his twittering, high-pitched voice as well; and, above all, in his mind. He skimmed all subjects and picked their heart out neatly, as

nce. He was a nervous little man; he was neuras

cessary ideas he had!

ousness was different from ours. The bird idea, for instance, conveyed a sense of deity to them-of bird deity, that is: they had

tch seemed to dart across the table at his adversary. His eyes flashed; his

infinitive! If you were an old Egyptian, you-you"-he flashed and spluttered, his tongue shot out again, his keen eyes blazed-"you might take all those words and spin them into a great interpretation of life, a c

There was enthusiasm at once. Another of the party called the head waiter and told him to pack food and drink in baskets. It was

, none of them got angry. They talked in this strange personal way without a shred of malice or offence. The English, French, and Germans in the hotel watched them with remote amazement, referring to them as "that Russian lot." Their energy was elemental. They never stopped. They merely disappeared when the pace became too fast, then reappeared again after a day or two, and resumed their "living" as before.

h the natives with their biplanes over the desert, "but without all that m

y cried. "Let'

ff again! One of his

rtaining. He said monstrously incredible things as though he really did

erfectly. And the stars. D'you think they swing on wires? What raised the enormous stones of ancient Egypt? D'you really believe it was heaped-up sand and ropes and clumsy leverage and all our weary and laborious mechanical contrivances? Bah! It was levitation. It was the powers of the air. Believe in those

hey cried, roaring wi

ou? Why should I ask my deity to persuade your scoffing little minds by any miracle? For it is deity, I tell you, and nothing else. I know it. Follow one idea like that, as I follow my bird i

, wearied of his nonsense-talk. "Get up and fly!

een brown eyes. He rose slowly from the edge of the chair where he w

e your disbelief, but to prove it to myself. For the powers of the air are wit

upheaving power about him. He raised his arms; his face turned upward; he inflated his lungs wi

Hor

yed deit

ther m

arth's t

y awful sw

nslatable. The phrase me

d lost more pounds than there are days in the year-and leaped into the air. He hovered a second, spread his arms and legs in space, appe

t of that faint horror which appals by its very vagueness. He picked himself up unhurt, and his face was as grave as a portrait in the academy, but with a new expression in it that everybody noticed with this strange, half-shocked amazement. And it was this expression that extinguished the claps of laughter as wind that takes away t

rther," cried some one. It

," another replied, with a lau

d the wax." But his face twitched oddly as he said it. There

rybody's heart, yet unexplained. Some lowered their eyes, or else looked stupidly elsewhere; but the women of the party felt a kind of fascination. Vera, in particular, could not move

ch! What's happe

nged-he's

he looks l

r, watching them closely, they did not notice. He had been passing down the corridor, had looked in unobserved, and then had paused. He h

rised, but also he looked half angry and half frightened. As some one had said, he "ought to have flown farther." That was the incredible impression his acrobatics had produced-incredible, yet someh

ific. Another thing, not commonly experienced by men, was in him, breaking out of him, affecting directly the minds of his companions. His mouth opened; blood and fury shone in

ower of the air, deserted me! Hell take him! Hell burn his wings and blast his piercin

t of instantaneous inspiration-his voice, his words, his gestures, his whole wild appearance. Only-here was the reality that caused the sense of shock-the expression on his altered features was genuine. That was not assumed. There was so

ad nonsense that he worshipped Horus, the falcon-headed deity of forgotten days, and that Horus had failed him in his hour of need; but somehow there was just a hint of too much reality in the way he moved and looked. The girl, a little creature, with fluffy golden hair, opened her li

rels that blaze out from nothing, and end in a pistol-shot and death, no one able to explain clearly how it came about. It was the silent, watching figure in the doorway who saved the situation. Before any one had noticed his approach, there he was among the group, laughing, talking, applauding-between Binovitch and Vera. He was vigorously patting his patient on the back, a

e des Arts!" Smiling significantly, he glanced at Binovitch; he clinked glasses with him. Their arms were already linked, but it was Palazov who noticed that the doctor's fingers seemed rather tight upon the creased black coat. All drank, looking w

g. They told him he was an undiscovered master. He was delighted. He winked at Vera and touched her glass again with his. "We'll make our début together," he cried. "We'll begin at Covent Garden, in London. I'll design the dresses and the posters 'The Hawk and the Dove!' Magni

g eagerly together. Vera took the cigarette he offered her, lighting it from his own; their fingers touched; he was as harmless and normal as a retired diplomat in a drawing-room. But it was Plitzinger whose subtle man?uvring had accomplished th

arm and another on his lip. He was telling truth, and everybody listened with deep interest. The narrative lasted perhaps ten minutes or more, when Minski abruptly stopped. He had come to an end; he looked about him; he saw his glass, and emptied it. There was a general pause. Another subject did not at once present itself. Sighs were heard; several fidgeted; fresh cigarettes were lighted. But there was no sign of bore

d proudly, "not even under water." He looked up at everybody, challenging admiration. And he told how, at a country house, he made a bet that he would swim to a certain island in the lake, and won the bet. He and a girl were the winners, but as it was a horse they had bet, he got nothing out

nfinished subject that each member of the group was still considering. Only no one cared to begin about it till at last, unable to resist the strain any longer, Palazov turned to Khilkoff, who was saying he would take a "whisky-soda," as the champagne was too sweet, and whispered something beneath

mitive, buried instinct stirred a little, the kind of racial dread of vague emotions that might gain the upper hand if encouraged. They shrank from looking something in the face, while yet this unwelcome influence drew closer round them all. They discussed Binovitch and his astonishing performan

hing he could not understand, and it had touched instinctive terror in him. "It was the way he leaped that put the wolf first into my mind, only it was not a wolf at all." The o

deliciously by the one strong enough to do it thoroughly. She left her chair and sat down beside an older woman in the party, who took her arm

tone falcons outside the temple-the Horus figures-he's been full of it." She stopped. The way Binovitch had behaved at Edfu was better left unmentioned at the moment, perhaps. A slight shiver ran

rer than before. It's coming closer. I hear it." She trembled. Her voice, her manner, above all her great staring eyes, startled everybody. No one spoke for several

t with a perceptible quaver in her voice, too. Sh

r it, too?" the

ll murmur, audible, faint, remote, its direction hard to tell. It had come suddenly from nowhere. They shivered. That strange racial thrill agai

ther asked angrily-the irri

very low, "I heard it first. I hear

age with flying, dancing leaps. He bounded. It was like a huge bird trying to rise for flight, while his companion kept him down by force upon the earth. As they entered the strip of light, Plitzinger changed his own position, placing himself swiftly between his companion and the group in the dark corner of the

You heard it then," she said breathles

"It was wind against the outside walls-

er against the side of the older wo

waited uneasily for the completion of her sentence. They

ed. "It was the soun

ng life those strange enjoyments upon which his own troubled human heart was passionately set. Safe with that mighty falcon whose powers his lips had scorned a few hours before, his soul, released in vivid dream, went sweetly flying. It was amazing, it was gorgeous. He skimmed the Nile at lightning speed. Dashing down headlong from

ameless depths, so that he flew faster and faster, yet never fast enough to overtake it. Behind him came a great thing down the air, black, hovering, with gigantic wings outstretched. It had terrific eyes, and the bea

t is meaningless; that of the worshipper is real. This attack was on his soul. He had invoked it. He realised next, with a touch of ghastly horror, that the dove he chased was, after all, the bait that had lured him purposely to

. But he received no encouragement. The mood of the previous night was not recoverable; it was already ancient history. Russians never make the banal mistake of repeating a sensation till it is exhausted; they hurry on to novelties. Life flashes and rushes with them, never stan

pirit, intensely creative, finds no adequate expression. His power of production is enormous and prolific; yet he accomplishes nothing." He paused an instant. "Binovitch, therefore, is in danger of poisoning-himself." He looked steadily into her face, as a man who weighs how much he may con

she asked v

em through glasses, studies their habits, then writes a book about them. But a man like Binovitch, overflowing with this intense creative power of mind and imagination, is not content with that. He wants to know them from within. He wants to feel what they feel, to live their life. He wants to become them. You follow me? Not quite. Well, he seeks to be identified with the object of his sacred, passionate adoration. All genius seeks to know the thing

slight shiver

" she murmured; "an exhibiti

," replied the doctor

avity in his eyes. It seemed to arrest her intelligence. She felt upon the edge of things beyond her. "You mean th

ical. He talked to her sympathy,

e universal life. Being everything and everywhere, all is possible to it-in that second of vivid realisation. It can brood with the crystal, grow with the plant, leap with the animal, fly with the bird: genius unifies all three. That is the meaning of 'creat

not understood. Some great enthusia

ry to lead this passionate constructive genius of the man into some

said, bewildered, yet sei

ry her?" asked Pl

lready m

er a moment, hesitating whether

ly after a pause, "it is bet

ner were exceedi

ere's danger

reative flood in him, so curiously focused now upon his Ho

dness," she said,

hen he added slowly: "Because in the mental moment o

"set" was cleverly, if somewhat extravagantly, dressed. But Binovitch and Vera were the most successful of all the two hundred dancers who took part. Another figure, a big man dressed as a Pierrot, also claimed e

d tufted talons, looked fierce and splendid. The disguise was so admirable, yet so entirely natural, that it was uncommonly seductive. Vera, in blue and gold, a charming head-dress of a dove upon her loosened hair, and a pair of little dove-pale wings flutt

hed and rustled as he swept along; they were true falcons' wings. He danced with Nautch-girls and Egyptian princesses and Rumanian Gipsies; he danced well, with beauty, grace, and lightness. But with Vera he did not dance at all; with her he simply flew. A kind of passionate abandon was in him as he skimmed the floor with he

hawk. And he's always after that dove-girl. How marvellously

h another partner. Word passed from mouth to mouth. A kind of telepathic interest was established everywhere. It was a

quite disgraceful," was heard. "I think i

rrot appeared abruptly round the corner with a similar claim. Those who saw it assert he had been waiting, and came on purpose, and that there was something protective and authoritative in his bearing. The misunderstanding was

is taloned fingers working nervously. Pierrot, however, more experi

as though he had the right to her-"only I engaged this dance before his Majesty Horus app

t her. She yielded meekly. They vanished among the maze of coloured dancers, leaving the Hawk, disconsolate a

it affirm that he changed absolutely into the part he played. It was dread

nary thing is

positive that the windows had been opened and that something had flown in. It was the obvious explanation. The thing spread horribly. As in a fire-panic, there was consternation and excitement. Confusion caught the feet of all the dancers. The music fumbled and lost time. The leading pair of tango dancers halted and looked round. It se

and that this was its beginning. The music again took heart. Pierrot was strong and dignified, no whit nonplussed by this abrupt publicity. The Dove, though faltering, was deliciously obedient. They danced together li

too loud, uttering the thought of

is sight was then apparent. A figure dropped thr

... to know thy

The feathers swept; the swings spread out as sails that take the wind. Like a hawk that darts with unerring power and aim upon its prey, this thing of mighty wings rushed down into the empty space where the t

tails; a few saw nothing at all after the first startling shock, closing their eyes, or holding their arms before their faces as in self-protection.

d to strike, the tufted claws were raised like fingers that shut and opened, and the whole presentment of his amazing figure focused in an attitude of attack that was magnificent and terrible. No one who saw it doubted. Yet there were those who swore that it was not Binovitch at all, but that another outline, monstrous and shadowy, towered above him

gs was certain

at and artificial light, the walled-in, airless halls that were a cage. All this they left behind. They seemed things of wind and air, made free happily of another element. Earth held them not. Toward the open night they raced with this extraordinary lightness as of birds, down the long corridor and on to the southern terrace, where great coloure

brother, and Baron Minski, the man who caught wolves alive, had been for some time keenly on the watch, while Dr. Plitzinger, reading the symptoms clearly, never far away, had been faithfully observant of every movement. His mask tossed aside, the great psychiatrist was now recognised by all. They reached the parapet just as the curtain flapped back heavily into place; the n

ter. The pair of them danced in together as though nothing was amiss. Accustomed to the strenuous practice of his Cossack regiment, this young cavalry officer's muscles were equal to the semi-dead weight in his arms. At most the onlookers thought her tired, perhaps. Confidence was restored-such is the psychology of a crowd-and in the middle of a thrilling Viennese waltz he easily smuggled her out of the room, administered brandy, and got her up to bed. The absence of the Hawk, meanwhile

s no indenture in the sand. The figure lay sidewise as though in sleep, no sign of violence visible anywhere, the dark wings folded as a great bird folds them when it creeps away to die in loneliness. Beneath the Horus mask the face was smiling. It seemed he had floated into death upon the element he loved. And only Vera had seen the enormous wings that, hovering invitingly above the dark abyss, bore him so softly into another world. Plitzinger, that is, saw them, too, but he said firmly t