The Midnight Guest quotes

“That is impossible, madam,” the footman protested; “his lordship is not yet down, and besides—”

“There is no ‘besides’ about it,” the visitor said, imperiously; “it is a matter of life and death.”

Once more the servant hesitated. There was something about this woman that commanded his respect. The hour was still early for Park Lane, seeing that it was barely nine o’clock, and the notable thoroughfare was practically deserted.

“This is an unexpected pleasure, Maria,” he said. “But what is wrong? Louis is all right, I suppose?”

“Louis is dead!” the woman said in the same cold, strained voice. “He has been foully murdered. I could not say more if I spoke for an hour. Louis is dead!”

The speaker repeated the last three words over and over again as if she were trying to realise the dread significance of her own message. Ravenspur stood there with his hand to his head, shocked and grieved almost beyond the power of speech.

He stood just for a moment with his hand on a decanter of brandy, and then with a smile for his own weakness poured out a glassful, which he drank without delay.

“I am a fool and a coward,” he muttered. “What can there be to be afraid of after all these years? Why do I hesitate in this way when boldness and decision would avert the danger?”

Ravenspur sat there, looking moodily into space. He heard the house resounding to the sound of the luncheon gong, but he made no movement. The mere suggestion of food was repulsive to him, clean as his habits were and robust as his appetite usually was.

Ravenspur sat there, looking moodily into space. He heard the house resounding to the sound of the luncheon gong, but he made no movement. The mere suggestion of food was repulsive to him, clean as his habits were and robust as his appetite usually was.

The Lane and the Park were gay with traffic now; the roar of locomotion reached the ears of Ravenspur as he sat there.

Presently the noise of the newsboys came again, and the name of Delahay seemed to fill the air to the exclusion of everything else. Ravenspur rang his bell, and asked for a paper.

The most fortunate man in London! The most popular and most sought for! What a bitter travesty upon the truth it is!

If they only knew! If there were only some power to lift the roof off of every house in London, what tragedies would be revealed! And how many friends would be left to me?

”

He called aloud on Ravenspur, but no reply came. He shook the door in a fit of angry exasperation, and once more from inside the room came that queer, choking noise, followed by a low chuckle.

It was maddening, exasperating to a degree, to stand so close to the threshold of tragedy and yet to be so far away.

There was only one thing for it, and that was to break down the door. Flinging himself full against the woodwork, Walter literally forced his way in.

“I have been brought up in the wrong school for that. When we South Italians take our vengeance, we strike and strike hard. But it is done in the dark, so that the right hand does not know what the left is doing.

But we never forget, and we never forgive.

”

You are going to hand me over to the authorities. I shall be no worse treated if I tell the truth.

I did come here to take Lord Ravenspur’s life. I am only sorry that I failed.

”

The words were uttered with a grim coldness that caused Walter to shiver.

This was worse than any outbreak of fury, worse than homicidal mania in its most acute form.

“I don’t suppose I shall be able to make you understand,” he said. “Your race is different to mine.

The blood in your veins flows much slower and colder.

You have no traditions in this country which are part of your religion. You cannot comprehend that it is one’s duty to avenge insult and outrage, even at the cost of a life.