fist he struck
himself a blow upon his chest, near to his throbbing heart.

"Wilt thou be silent? Who is master, thou or I? Do thy duty, slave. I
am thy lord, thy king. Thy duty consists in nothing but keeping my
arteries in motion, in pumping the air into my lungs, in forcing the
blood in the right direction. When you cease your work, your illness
is atrophy; but you cannot be my master, for the sovereign ruler is my
will."

And as Ivan beat his breast, it seemed to him as if in a magic mirror
there were reflected two forms--himself and another Ivan, with whom he
waged a deadly combat. It appeared to him as if this other self had
robbed him of his form and features, to perpetrate in his name the
most odious sins, and as he hit out against this horrid image of
himself, it slowly vanished; and then Ivan, falling back upon his
pillow, cried out in a loud voice, "Never return, O fiend; never
defile my sight again!"

In another hour, pale and exhausted, Ivan was seated quietly before
his desk. It required an heroic effort on his part to go into prosaic
calculations, to add up long columns of figures; but he forced his
weary brain, his tired fingers to the task, and the slave obeyed its
master, the body submitted to the mind.

CHAPTER III

THE MAN-EATER

The morning light found Ivan still seated at his table. As daybreak
and lamplight did not agree, he extinguished his lamp, threw aside his
papers, and gave himself a momentary rest.

He had conquered; he was himself again. All the fire of passion had
died out, the sinful images had vanished, and in his breast reigned
profound peace. He had resolved upon his course; an angel had been at
his side and inspired him.

It was Sunday morning. The engines which work the distillery were at
rest. On Sundays the enormous water-basin, or trough, which fed the
steam-pump was utilized to remove the dirt of the week from the
miners. From six to seven the basin was free to the women, from
half-past seven to nine to the men. The keys of the great pump-house
were given over by the machine superintendent on every Saturday night
to Ivan, so that no curious or peeping Tom of Coventry could hide
himself there, and see these Venuses bathing through a little window,
which gave upon the basin, and which was placed there to allow the
stoker to see that the water-course was not disturbed when the pumps
were at work.

It had never once entered Ivan's brain that he could play Tom if