Moth and Rust; Together with Geoffrey's Wife and The Pitfall

ng man from

with eyes of d

for their dinner. A cord had been stretched across the foot of the grand staircase, and a policeman g

sir," said the police

th floor," said the man. "Here is my card. You will o

e fire ain't touched anything lower than the fifth floor; but we have to keep a sharp look-ou

stairs as if with them. They did not even see her. They were talking eagerly to each othe

wards to the sixth and fifth. But at first, as Janet mounted the sodden staircase, there was hardly any

racks. The plaster had fallen in places, and everything-walls, ceilings,

rcase. It was strewn with wreckage. The bent iron banisters, from which the lead hung in congealed drops, supported awkwardly the contorted remains of the banisters from above, which had crashed down upon them.

touch them for fear of bringing them, and an avalanche of piled rubbish behind them, down upon her. She turned back a few steps, deliberately climbed, in her short country skirt, over the still standing banisters, and, holding firmly by them, went up the remainder of the flight, cautious step by ste

n the fif

nels, the seared doors, the blackness of the disfigured passages, the long, distraught wires

lat was on th

, and even her steady eye

What the fire had refused it had flung down, choking up the landing below. Nothing remained of the staircase save the

wall. The bathroom had fallen from it. The bath and its twisted pipes

h quicken. She felt her strength in her. Then, hugging the black wall till it crumbled against her, and shading her

nk down upon something soft, and shudd

by her footstep, stirred, and

returned to her, the quiet confidence that enabled her to break in nerv

en were the remains of a sable cloak, which, as her foot touched it, showed a shred of rose-coloured lining. A step further her foot sank into a heap of bl

furnace had roared down that once familiar passage, leaving a charred, rent hole, ha

e Brands' flat was exactly here, on the left, near the

e had swept all before it. If there had once been a floor and walls, and ceiling and furniture, all was gone, leaving a seared, egg

be the Br

a mummy, and ready to crumble at a touch. It must have been a servant's bedroom. The chest of drawers, the bed, were still there in outline, but all ashes. On peg

inside it. This evidently had been the drawing-room. Here were signs as of some frightful conflict, as

its downfall, and lay for the most part unscorched, pell-mell, one over the other. Among the books crouched an agonised tangle of wires-all that was left of Cuckoo's grand piano. The pictures had leapt wildly from the walls to join in the conflict. A fe

t, and leave his havoc unfinished? Yes, the wind must have changed, f

f the flames had rushed down the passage, leaving even the door unbu

open fashion paper, where Cuckoo had laid it down. On every table photographs of Cuckoo smiled in different attitudes. The gaudy room, with its damask panels, bore no trace of smoke, nor even of heat, save th

hat Monkey Brand had given to his wife. She ran to the cage, brushing against th

was the name which, after much though

ars of his Chinese pagoda, with his head thrown back a

some one else was enduring, to whom death was

re mercilessly portrayed. The careful touch of rouge on the cheek and carmine on the lip were faithfully rendered. The manicured, plebeian hands were Cuckoo's, and none but Cuckoo's. The picture was a stud

to look at it, and sh

bony. It was untouched, as Cuckoo had feared. The mermaid was still tranquilly riding a whal

vely turned to shut the door. But the door lay prone u

f place in this cindered grave. They came nearer. A tall, heavily-built man c

rete; it's all right

they had passed. But they were in no hurry. They b

the big man, stopping at the next doorway. "This was once a drawing-

is delicate, artist hand against the charred doorpost. "Do you think, Vanbrunt, this is a safe pl

runt conside

ng it up-a tall, powerfully-built, unyouthful-looking man with shaggy eyebrows and a grim, clean-shaved face

alvage men have warned you that the passages on your right are unsafe?" He pointed towards the

head thrown slightly back, an austere, massive figure, not without a certain dignity. And as he looked at Janet, there was just room i

not answer, h

t to go down the passage to

instructions. "I am only here to see if

e in a moment and look at it? I am afraid I came in w

in," sa

in, and glanced

smoke. But," he added, looking narrowly at Janet, "if Mr Br

ou," sai

he continued, sti

net again, wondering

lation of the Brands?" h

a fr

re," continued the young man, stammering. "Ma

n was manufacturing conversation Cuckoo was dying-was dying, waiting w

ntly at the dead bird in the cage, was touchi

ny. And it is over. You will not be afraid again. You are well out of it. No more prison bars. No more stretching o

p and met J

ground for your next picture a few yards further on. Mr Brand knows me," he continued, producing a card in his turn. "We do business together. He

half attending, and laying the card

ephen peremptorily aiding t

eaned up against the blackened wall, and s

rse I s

st know her. I shall go bac

evils have raged in it! It is jealousy made visible. What is the use of a realistic painter like yourself, who can squeeze all romance out of life till the whole o

id De Rivaz, glaring at his frien

ng ugly, even beauty of a high o

men l

of that woman which will show to the world, and even to rhinoceros-hided sceptics like you, Vanbrunt, that I can make the beauty of the soul shine through even a beautiful face,