The Soul Stealer

The outside of the new piece of apparatus resembled nothing so much as one of those enormous wine-coolers which one sees in big restaurants or hotels. It was a large square case standing upon four legs. But from the lid of this case rose something which suggested a very large photographic camera, but made of dull steel. The tube, in which the lens of an ordinary camera is set, was in this case prolonged for six or seven feet, and was lost in the interior of the next machine.

And now, for the first time, the strained ears of the spectators caught a note of keen vibration and excitement in Sir William Gouldesbrough's voice. He had been speaking very quietly and confidently hitherto; but now the measured utterance rose half a tone; and, as when some great actor draws near in speech to the climax of the event he mimics, so Sir William also began to be agitated, and so also the change in tone sent a thrill and quiver through the ranks of those who sat before him.

"Here," he said, "I have succeeded in transforming my electric currents into light. That is nothing, you may think for a moment, the electric current produces light in your own houses at any moment; but you must remember that in your incandescent bulbs the light is always the same in its quality. Light of this sort, passed through the prism of a spectroscope will always tell the same story when the screen presents itself for analysis. My problem has been to produce an infinite variety of light, so that every single thought vibration will produce, when transformed, its own special and individual quality of light, and that," he concluded, "I have done."

Sir Harold Oliver, who had been leaning forward with grey eyes so strained and intent that all the life seemed to have gone out of them and they resembled sick pearls, gave a gasp as Sir William paused.

Then Gouldesbrough continued.

He placed his hand upon the thing like a camera which rose from the lid of the larger structure below it.

"Within this chamber," he said, "all the light generated below is collected and focussed. It passes in one volume through this object."

He moved onwards, as he spoke, running his fingers along the pipe which led him to the next marvel in this stupendous series.

"I have now come," he began again, "to what Mr. Guest and myself might perhaps be allowed to think as our supreme triumph. Here is our veritable Thought Spectroscope within this erection, which, as you will observe, is much larger than anything else I have shown you. The light which pours along that tube is passed through, what I will only now designate as a prism, to keep the analogy of the light spectroscope, and is split up into its component parts.

"You will see that, rising out of this iron box," he ran his hand over the sides of it as if he loved it, "the lens projects just like the lens of a bioscope. This lens is directed full upon that great white screen which is exactly opposite to you all; and this is my final demonstration of the mechanism which I am now about to set in motion to prove to you that I have now triumphed over the hitherto hidden Realm of Thought. From this lens I shall pour upon the screen in a minute or two for you all to see, without doubt and in simple view, the thoughts of the man or woman on whom I shall place the cap."

He ceased. The first part of the demonstration was over.

Lord Malvin rose in his seat. His voice was broken by emotion.

"Sir," he said, "I know, none better perhaps in this room, of the marvellous series of triumphs which have led you to this supreme moment. I know how absolutely and utterly true all you have told us is, and I know that we are going to witness your triumph."

He turned round to the people behind him.

"We are going to see," he said, "the human soul laid bare for the first time in the history of the world."

Then he turned once more to Sir William, and his voice, though still full of almost uncontrollable emotion, became deep and stern.

"Sir William Gouldesbrough," he said, "I have to salute you as the foremost scientist of all time, greater than Newton, greater than Darwin, greater than us all. And I pray to God that you have used the great talent He has given you in a worthy way, and I pray that, if you have done this, you will always continue to do so; for surely it is only for some special reason that God has allowed you this mastery."

He ceased, and there was rustle and hum of movement among all the people, as this patriarch lifted his voice with almost a note of warning and menace in it.

It was all so unusual, so unexpected – why did this strange prophetic note come into the proceedings? What was hidden in the old man's brain?

Every one felt the presence, the unseen presence of deep waters and hidden things.

Marjorie Poole had bowed her head, she was absolutely motionless. There was a tension in the air.

Sir William Gouldesbrough's head was bowed also, as he listened with courteous deference to the words of one whose name had been chief and most honoured in the scientific world for so many years. Those who watched him remarked afterwards that he seemed to be stricken into stone for a moment, as words which were almost a veiled accusation pealed out into the great room.

Then they saw Sir William once more himself in a swift moment. His eyes were bright and there was a look of triumph on his face.

"I thank you, Lord Malvin," he said, in a voice which was arrogant and keen, "I thank you for your congratulations, your belief, and for your hopes for me; and now my lord, ladies, and gentlemen, shall we not proceed to the actual demonstration?

"I am going to ask that one of you come down from your seat and allow me to place the cap upon your head. I shall then darken the laboratory, and the actual thoughts of the lady or gentleman who submits herself or himself to the experiment will be thrown upon the screen."

There was a dead silence now, but most of the people there looked at each other in doubt and fear.

It might well be that, confronted for the first time in their lives with the possibility of the inmost secrets of their souls being laid bare, the men and women of the world would shrink in terror. Who of us, indeed, is able to look clearly and fairly into his own heart, and realize in very actual truth what he is! Do we not, day by day, and hour by hour, apply the flattering unction to our souls that we aren't so very bad after all; that what we did last week, and what, sub-consciously we know we shall do again in the week that is coming, is only the result of a temperament which cannot be controlled in this or that particular, and that we have many genial virtues – not exactly specified or defined – which make it all up to a high level of conduct after all?

Yes! There was a silence there, as indeed there would have been in any other assembly when such a proposal was made.

They were all ashamed, they were all frightened. They none of them dared submit themselves to this ordeal.

And as they looked at their host they saw that a faint and mocking smile was playing about his mouth, and that the eyes above it flamed and shone.

Then they heard his voice once more, and the new and subtle quality of mockery had crept into that also.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am waiting for one of you to give me an opportunity of proving all that I have told you."

"My lord, will not you afford me the great privilege of being the first subject of the new experiment?"

Lord Malvin looked very straightly and rather strangely at Sir William Gouldesbrough.

"Sir," he said, "I am not afraid to display my thoughts to this company, but shall I be the first person who has ever done so? Of course not. You have had other subjects for experiment, whether willing or unwilling – I do not know."

Once again the guests saw Sir William's face change. What strange and secret duel, they asked themselves, was going on before them? How was it that Lord Malvin and Sir William Gouldesbrough seemed to be in the twin positions of accuser and accused?

What was all this?

Lord Malvin continued —

"I am ready to submit myself, Sir William, in the cause of Science. But I would ask you, very, very earnestly, if you desire that the thoughts that animate me at this moment should be given to every one here?"

Gouldesbrough stepped back a pace as though some one had struck him. There was a momentary and painful silence. And then it was that the Bishop of West London rose in his place.

"Sir William," he said, "I shall be highly honoured if you will allow me to be the first subject. I shall fix my thoughts upon some definite object, and then we shall see if my memory is good. I have only just come back from a holiday in the Holy Land, and it will give me great pleasure to sit in your chair and to try and construct some memories of Jerusalem for you all."

With that the Bishop stepped down on to the floor of the laboratory, and sat in the chair which Sir William indicated.

The spectators saw the brass cap carefully fitted on the prelate's head.

Then Sir William stepped to the little vulcanite table upon which the controlling switches were – there was a click, shutters rolled over the sky-lights in the roof, already obscured by the approach of evening, and the electric lights of the laboratory all went out simultaneously. The darkness was profound. The great experiment had begun.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DOOM CONTINUES

They were all watching, and watching very intently. All they could see was a bright circle of light which flashed out upon the opposite wall. It was just as though they were watching an ordinary exhibition of the magic-lantern or the cinematograph.

And suddenly, swiftly, these world-worn and weary people of society, these scientists who lived by measure and by rule, saw that all Sir William Gouldesbrough had said was true – and truer than he himself knew.

For upon this white screen, where all their eyes were fixed, there came a picture of the Holy City, and it was a picture such as no single person there had ever seen before.

For it was not that definite and coloured presentment of a scene caught by the camera and reproduced through the mechanical means of a lens, which is a thing which has no soul. It was the picture of that Holy City to which all men's thoughts turn in trouble or in great crises of their lives. And it was a picture coloured by the imagination of the man who had just come back from Jerusalem, and who remembered it in the light of the Christian Faith and informed it with all the power of his own personality.