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disinherit you？ Surely not？〃
〃No； Villiers； I came into all the property at my poor father's death； he
died a year after I left Oxford。 He was a very good father to me； and I
mourned his death sincerely enough。 But you know what young men are；
a few months later I came up to town and went a good deal into society。
Of course I had excellent introductions； and I managed to enjoy myself
very much in a harmless sort of way。 I played a little； certainly； but never
for heavy stakes； and the few bets I made on races brought me in money
only a few pounds； you know； but enough to pay for cigars and such petty
pleasures。 It was in my second season that the tide turned。 Of course
you have heard of my marriage？〃
〃No； I never heard anything about it。〃
〃Yes； I married； Villiers。 I met a girl； a girl of the most wonderful
and most strange beauty； at the house of some people whom I knew。 I
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cannot tell you her age； I never knew it； but； so far as I can guess； I should
think she must have been about nineteen when I made her acquaintance。
My friends had come to know her at Florence； she told them she was an
orphan； the child of an English father and an Italian mother； and she
charmed them as she charmed me。 The first time I saw her was at an
evening party。 I was standing by the door talking to a friend； when
suddenly above the hum and babble of conversation I heard a voice which
seemed to thrill to my heart。 She was singing an Italian song。 I was
introduced to her that evening； and in three months I married Helen。
Villiers； that woman； if I can call her woman； corrupted my soul。 The
night of the wedding I found myself sitting in her bedroom in the hotel；
listening to her talk。 She was sitting up in bed； and I listened to her as
she spoke in her beautiful voice； spoke of things which even now I would
not dare whisper in the blackest night； though I stood in the midst of a
wilderness。 You； Villiers； you may think you know life； and London；
and what goes on day and night in this dreadful city； for all I can say you
may have heard the talk of the vilest； but I tell you you can have no
conception of what I know； not in your most fantastic； hideous dreams can
you have imaged forth the faintest shadow of what I have heardand seen。
Yes； seen。 I have seen the incredible； such horrors that even I myself
sometimes stop in the middle of the street and ask whether it is possible
for a man to behold such things and live。 In a year； Villiers； I was a ruined
man； in body and soulin body and soul。〃
〃But your property； Herbert？ You had land in Dorset。〃
〃I sold it all； the fields and woods； the dear old houseeverything。〃
〃And the money？〃
〃She took it all from me。〃
〃And then left you？〃
〃Yes； she disappeared one night。 I don't know where she went； but I
am sure if I saw her again it would kill me。 The rest of my story is of no
interest； sordid misery； that is all。 You may think； Villiers； that I have
exaggerated and talked for effect； but I have not told you half。 I could
tell you certain things which would convince you； but you would never
know a happy day again。 You would pass the rest of your life； as I pass
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mine； a haunted man； a man who has seen hell。〃
Villiers took the unfortunate man to his rooms； and gave him a meal。
Herbert could eat little； and scarcely touched the glass of wine set before
him。 He sat moody and silent by the fire； and seemed relieved when
Villiers sent him away with a small present of money。
〃By the way； Herbert；〃 said Villiers； as they parted at the door； 〃what
was your wife's name？ You said Helen； I think？ Helen what？〃
〃The name she passed under when I met her was Helen Vaughan； but
what her real name was I can't say。 I don't think she had a name。 No；
no； not in that sense。 Only human beings have names； Villiers； I can't say
anymore。 Good…bye； yes； I will not fail to call if I see any way in which
you can help me。 Good…night。〃
The man went out into the bitter night； and Villiers returned to his
fireside。 There was something about Herbert which shocked him
inexpressibly； not his poor rags nor the marks which poverty had set upon
his face； but rather an indefinite terror which hung about him like a mist。
He had acknowledged that he himself was not devoid of blame； the
woman； he had avowed； had corrupted him body and soul； and Villiers felt
that this man； once his friend； had been an actor in scenes evil beyond the
power of words。 His story needed no confirmation： he himself was the
embodied proof of it。 Villiers mused curiously over the story he had
heard； and wondered whether he had heard both the first and the last of it。
〃No；〃 he thought； 〃certainly not the last； probably only the beginning。 A
case like this is like a nest of Chinese boxes； you open one after the other
and find a quainter workmanship in every box。 Most likely poor Herbert
is merely one of the outside boxes； there are stranger ones to follow。〃
Villiers could not take his mind away from Herbert and his story；
which seemed to grow wilder as the night wore on。 The fire seemed to
burn low； and the chilly air of the morning crept into the room； Villiers got
up with a glance over his shoulder； and； shivering slightly； went to bed。
A few days later he saw at his club a gentleman of his acquaintance；
named Austin； who was famous for his intimate knowledge of London life；
both in its tenebrous and luminous phases。 Villiers； still full of his
encounter in Soho and its consequences； thought Austin might possibly be
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able to shed some light on Herbert's history； and so after some casual talk
he suddenly put the question：
〃Do you happen to know anything of a man named Herbert Charles
Herbert？〃
Austin turned round sharply and stared at Villiers with some
astonishment。
〃Charles Herbert？ Weren't you in town three years ago？ No； then you
have not heard of the Paul Street case？ It caused a good deal of sensation
at the time。〃
〃What was the case？〃
〃Well； a gentleman； a man of very good position； was found dead；
stark dead； in the area of a certain house in Paul Street； off Tottenham
Court Road。 Of course the police did not make the discovery； if you
happen to be sitting up all night and have a light in your window； the
constable will ring the bell； but if you happen to be lying dead in
somebody's area； you will be left alone。 In this instance； as in many
others； the alarm was raised by some kind of vagabond； I don't mean a
common tramp； or a public…house loafer； but a gentleman； whose business
or pleasure； or both； made him a spectator of the London streets at five
o'clock in the morning。 This individual was； as he said； 'going home；'it
did not appear whence or whither； and had occasion to pass through Paul
Street between four and five a。m。 Something or other caught his eye at
Number 20； he said； absurdly enough； that the house had the most
unpleasant physiognomy he had ever observed； but； at any rate； he glanced
down the area and was a good deal astonished to see a man lying on the
stones； his limbs all huddled together； and his face turned up。 Our
gentleman thought his face looked peculiarly ghastly； and so set off at a
run in search of the nearest policeman。 The constable was at first
inclined to treat the m