saw during
those moments when I was bereft of all power that the man had a
revolver cocked at his left hand, but a pen in his right; while
manuscript lay before him, so that he must have been in the room for
some time, and had extinguished his light only at my coming. And he had
heard me quit my own chamber, I did not doubt; yet this surprised me,
for I had no shoes upon my feet, and had walked with the stealth of a
cat. Indeed, he appeared to read the fleeting speculations of my
thought, and at last to take pity on my position, for he leant over the
table, and drew near to it a lounge on which the skin of a polar bear
was spread.

"Sit here," he said, and at the bluff word my nerve came back to me. I
sat before him, facing him with less fear. Yet it was humiliating to be
treated almost as a child, and I knew from the inflexion of his voice
that he spoke to me then as one would speak to a school-lad who had
played truant. And in this tone he continued--

"You're a smart boy, and have ideas; but, like all little boys, your
ideas don't go far enough. I was just the same when I was your age,
always trying to climb perpendicular places, and always falling down
again. When you're older, you look to see what your hold's like before
you begin. Meanwhile, you're like a little dog barking at a bull, and
you're precious lucky not to be over the hedge by this time--maybe the
bull doesn't mind you, maybe he's waiting a day--but take his advice
and go to kennel awhile."

He said this half-laughing, and in no sense fiercely; but his words
angered me beyond restraint, and I could have struck him as he sat. He
saw my anger, and ceased his provocation.

"Silly lad," he said again, "silly beyond expression to put your head
into a business which never concerned you, and to stake your life on a
struggle which must have only one end. Don't you think so?"

At this I plucked up courage and answered him--

"I came here to-night to stop your devilry in murdering fifty innocent
men;" but he started up at the words and raved like a maniac.

"And who made you judge, you puppy?" he cried. "Who set you to watch
me, or give your opinions on what I do or what I don't do? Who asked
you whether you liked it or didn't like it, you sneaking little brat? I
wonder I let you live to spit your dirty words in my face?"

His anger was fierce, terrible as a tornado. His teeth gnashed, his
hands shook, he rolled in his chair like a great wounded beast;