Professor Huskins Part 3

"Think well, Merle. Tell me every sensation you remember."

"I cannot recall anything but a clutching sensation at my heart, as though some one had it in his hand, and tightened his hold until I could neither see nor hear, and a loud rumbling sounded in my ears."

"What caused these sensations? That is what I want to know. Tell me, Merle, did not the appearance of the woman evolve some painful recollection?"

"How could it? I did not see her. I do not know whether she was young or old, light or dark, large or small."

"I shall be obliged to put you into the trance state to find out the exact cause. You know, Merle, I never permit a result to elude me. Are you willing I should try to find the cause? I confess I am as ignorant of it as you."

"You know I am always willing to be of any a.s.sistance to you, and if I knew the cause, I would tell you more quickly than my own father, but I do not."

"Very well. Now sleep. Speak. Merle, are you all right?"

"Yes."

"I am glad. Now I want to know what was the cause of your physical weakness at the concert."

"I do not know."

"You do not know? Do not answer me that way. I want the truth, and will have it. What made your body faint and sick?"

"I do not know."

"Merle, you have been a faithful, truthful subject for almost ten years.

I have always chosen you when some severe and important test was before me. Never yet have you failed to respond to my wishes. Do not let this be the first occasion of your disobedience. You know what made your heart stop beating. Tell me. I demand it. What is that woman to you?"

"What woman? I did not see any woman."

"Merle, you are lying to me. Do you think you can make me believe such an a.s.sertion as that? You can not deceive me. Tell me the truth."

"I am telling you the truth."

"Merle, I will you; tell me what that woman is to you."

"What woman?"

"I cannot tell you how it grieves me to find you so untruthful; no man on earth could have convinced me of the fact that you would ever give me anything but truthful answers. Probably you were afraid I would reprimand you, if you were to tell the exact truth, but I will not. It makes no difference into what conditions you may have been led, or what you have done, I will remain ever your staunch friend. Be frank, be the Merle I have so long loved and trusted. What made you ill?"

"I do not know."

"What is that woman to you?"

"What woman?"

"I have good patience, but you are trying it too far. You shall tell me the truth."

"I am telling you the truth."

"You know the woman who sang."

"I do not know her."

"You do."

"I do not."

"I say you do. Where have you seen her before last night?"

"Nowhere."

"I say you have, and you shall tell me. Merle, why do you not speak?

What makes you act in this contrary manner? Speak. You know this woman."

"Yes."

"I knew it. Did the sight of her make you ill?"

"Yes."

"Just what I thought. What is she now, or what has she formerly been to you?"

"I was her lover."

"Ah!"

"She said she loved me and urged me on, but finally I discovered I was only one of several admirers. When she appeared, the shock of seeing her thus unexpectedly, made me faint."

"Why did you not tell me this when I first asked you?"

"I was afraid."

"You would have pleased me much more in telling the truth. There is no disgrace in loving a beautiful woman. Where did you meet her and woo her?"

"I do not know."

"Of course you know. Tell me the truth."

"I feel as though it were a long time ago, and everywhere there was suns.h.i.+ne and flowers, but I don't know where it was."

"You do;--tell me."

"I cannot."

"Do you hear me, Merle? What ails the boy? I never saw him like this before. Merle, answer me. Where did you first meet the woman?"

"I never saw her."

"You just told me you were her lover. Where did you know her?"