The man with the mask :: :: University of Virginia Library

of Caleb with calm satisfaction: “The
original owner built it with a particular object.
He wished to secure his title deeds and his
hoarded gold. Therefore — Reuben are you
listening? He procured the services of a
celebrated Locksmith. He had the door constructed
in such a manner, that it opened and
shut with a secret spring. The burglar might
possibly discover the spring on the outside,
but once within the Iron Room, it was imposible
to discover either the door, or the spring
which opened it from the inside. You have
heard these facts before?”

Brother Caleb raised his hand to his forehead
— it was wet with beaded moisture. The
lamp quivered as he held it above his colorless
face.

“You may remember that a burglar once
stole into this Room, while the `original proprietor'
was absent from the city. He — the
proprietor — was absent for two weeks. When
he returned he visited this `patent safety chest'
and found the burglar's dead body, stretched
among piles of mortgages, and heaps of boxes,
filled with specie. Did you hear of it?”

Again he paused, but it was now Caleb's
turn to be silent.

“The secret of the `inside spring' died
with the former owner of the house,” resumed
Lemuel. “When you bought the property
(Israel Bonus was the Conveyancer I believe?)
you were duly informed of the `outside
spring' but at the same time, told that the
secret of the `inside spring' (excuse this reptition,
Reuben) was lost forever. Do you remember?”

It seemed indeed as if the power of speech
had passed from Caleb Goodleigh, as the
sound of Lemuel's voice penetrated his ears.
Frightfully pale, and shaking as with an aguefit,
he gazed toward the place where he supposed
the door to be, with a vague yet earnest
look.

“Lemuel,” he whispered, after a long pause:
“There is no need of any quarrel between us.
Let us go down stairs, and settle our dispute
over a bottle of wine. You know the secret
of that door — eh?”

“When I came to your house to-night, it
was in company with a Police Officer,” resumed
Lemuel: “It was then my purpose to
procure proofs of your guilt, and have you
arrested in your bed. I left the Police
Officer on the first floor, while I went through
the apartments, in the wing of your mansion.
I was absent from his side only a few moments,
and when I came back, no change in
my countenance belied the nature of my occupation,
during this absence. He little dreamt,
poor fellow! that I had torn your splendid
carpet from the floor, and arrayed your furniture
in a pyramid, and then set your Painted
Chamber in a blaze!”

Goodleigh's face was agitated by a horrible
distortion.

“By —! You are mad! You could
not think of such an infernal deed!”

“No worse than setting fire to a ship filled
with three hundred negroes, when a United
States Frigate is in sight, and your boat under
the stern. Eh, Goodleigh?”

“Come — you are raving!” said Brother
Caleb, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“I did this, not fifteen minutes ago, and then
joining the police officer, came up stairs, in
order to ascertain whether you were fast asleep.

Lemuel's eyes blazed in the sunken sockets,
while his lips parted in a grimace — a grimace
that was the very extravagance of mockery.

“This is a jest, Lemuel,” said Caleb, gnashing
his teeth — “a jest for which you will pay
dearly —”

“For which both of us will pay dearly,”
interrupted the “Converted Monk” — “But
as I reached the head of the stairs, I saw you
emerge from your room. I followed you, and
not until you reached the threshold of this
closet, did I discover that you were walking in
your sleep. Then the mere idea of burning
your house, with the chance of burning its
owner with it, was displaced by a much better
thought —”

“A much better thought?” echoed Goodleigh,
while the hand which held the lamp began
to droop slowly from its raised position.

“I thought of the `inside spring' of the Iron
Room. And from this thought arose a kindred
idea, which I put to myself in the form of a
question — `What if Dr. Reuben Gatherwood
should enter the Iron Room, enter it in his
sleep, and only awake to find himself shut up
in an Iron Coffin — an Iron Coffin enveloped
in the flames of blazing rafters?' It was a
fine question, Reuben — can you answer it?”

The speaker stretched forth his arms, in the
very earnestness of his mockery, while his
eyes, that seemed to burn in their sockets,
assumed a wild and singular expression.

Brother Caleb at the same instant became
conscious of two facts, which promised to have
a decided influence upon the course of his life.

He was alone with a madman. It needed
not his medical lore to tell him that. The
eyes blazing in their sockets, the lips distorted
by a grimace, and whitened by an almost
imperceptible foam, the outstretched arms
swaying vaguely in the air — conveyed a
language which Brother Caleb could not misunderstand.

And this was only the first fact of which he
became suddenly conscious.

Looking over his shoulder, Brother Caleb
saw a slight cloud of smoke, issuing from the
aperture near the ceiling.

“The house is in flames, and I am alone
with a madman!” This was the thought
which Brother Caleb deduced from the two
important truths just mentioned.

Could he tame the madman by threats, by
promises, or by the magnetic power of the
eye? That strange power which the eye of a
sane man, has over the mind of the Insane?

Brother Caleb was so Rich — so very, very
Rich — and Lemuel Gardiner so Poor — so
miserably Poor!

And Brother Caleb must die in an Iron
Coffin, heated red hot by the flames of his
burning mansion, die with a madman's yell in
his ears, die a death such as had never befallen
the leprous negro, in the infernal history of the
Slave Trade!

There was no time to be lost. The thin
line of smoke, issuing through the aperture, began
to thicken rapidly into a cloud. This
coffin-like room, whose atmosphere was close
and oppressive at all times, began to grow uncomfortably
warm. The air began to heat.

“Lem, my good fellow, the joke has been
carried far enough,” as he spoke, in a tone of
good-fellowship, he raised the lamp, with a
firmer hand, and surveyed the face of the
“Converted Monk”: “You know the secret
of the inside spring. Open the door and let
us begone. Once outside and —”

“You will give me a dollar, for char-i-ty's
sake — won't ye?” said Lemuel in a subdued
voice. “Hark! These walls are thick, but
you can hear the State House bell. By this
time Reuben, the wing of your big mansion is
provided with a plumage of flames. Good
figure that? Hark! Do you hear a sound,
like the tread of a large crowd? Hundreds
of people are in front of your doors, Reuben,
but not one of them — not one among ten
thousand — can release you from this room.”

Caleb cast an uneasy glance toward the
aperture. The cloud of smoke was increasing
rapidly. The atmosphere of the Iron Room,
grew warmer every moment. And a deep
roaring sound, like the echo of a vast furnace,
throbbed at intervals, upon the ear of the affrighted
man.

“Let us go!” shrieked Caleb, now fairly
wild with terror, as the big drops of moisture
coursed down his hollow cheeks: “I swear to
you that I will forget the past. You shall be
rich, rich I say! I will divide my wealth — I
swear it!”

“He talks of riches and of wealth, who in
less than an hour, will be nothing but a heap
of cindered bones!” said Lemuel in a low
voice, as though communing with himself.

“Madman I defy you!” cried Brother Caleb,
fixing his gaze, with sudden intensity upon the
visage of Lemuel: “Why need I beseech,
when with a look I can disarm your madness!
My eye is upon you. You know it. You
cannot move but at my bidding. Ha, ha, have
I mastered you?”

Indeed Lemuel shrank from that fixed gaze,
which was imbued with peculiar magnetic
power. He shrank, and turned his body away,
but his eyes he could not remove from Brother
Caleb's face.

Was the mind of Goodleigh about to triumph
over the will of the Madman?

Lemuel seemed to have become in a moment,
the victim of an intolerable physical
and mental agony. He trembled violently,
and the foam grew thicker and whiter, over
his lips. Turning his body from side to side,
at pleasure, he could not remove his eyes from
the burning fascination of Caleb's gaze.

“Come! Open that door — I command
you!” exclaimed Brother Caleb, while his
projecting eyeballs, emitted flames of magnetic
light: “You are in my power. I command
you.”