at influence with us. I thought she was
my slave almost, but I see now that she also influenced me. She worshiped
me for my immediate success at St. Joseph's. You may think it very
ridiculous, considering that I am merely the rector of a fashionable
London church, but there was a time when I felt almost intoxicated by
my wife's worship of me, and by my domination over the crowds who came to
hear me preach. Domination! That was my fetish! That was what led me
to--oh, sometimes I think it must end in my ruin!"

"Perhaps not," said Malling, quietly. "Let us see."

His words, perhaps even more his manner, seemed greatly to help Mr.
Harding.

"I will tell you everything," he exclaimed. "From the first I have
felt as if you were the man to assist me, if any man could. I had
always, since I was an undergraduate at Oxford,--I was a Magdalen
man,--been interested in psychical matters, and followed carefully
all the proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research. I had also
at that time,--in Oxford,--made some experiments with my college
friends, chiefly in connection with will power. My influence seemed to
be specially strong. But I need not go into all that. After leaving
Oxford and taking orders, for a long time I gave such matters up. I
feared, if I showed my strong interest in psychical research, especially
if I was known to attend seances or anything of that kind, it might be
considered unsuitable in a clergyman, and might injure my prospects. It
was not until Henry Chichester came to St. Joseph's that I was tempted
again into paths which I had chosen to consider forbidden to me.
Chichester tempted me! Chichester tempted me!"

He spoke the last words with a sort of lamentable energy.

"Such a gentle, yielding man as he was!"

"It was just that. He came under my influence at once, and showed it in
almost all he said and did. He looked up to me, he strove to model
himself upon me, he almost worshiped me. One evening,--it was in the
pulpit!--the idea shot through my brain, 'I could do what I like with
that man, make of him just what I choose, use him just as I please.' And
I turned my eyes toward the choir where Chichester sat in the last stall,
hanging on my words. At that instant I can only suppose that what people
sometimes call the _maladie de grandeur_--the mania for power--took
hold upon me, and combined with my furtive longing after research in
those mysterious regions where perhaps all we desire is hidden. Any