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"He said that it was all the work of Santoris, who was an evident professor of psychical imposture " I sprang up. "Let him say that to ME!" I exclaimed "Let him dare to say it! and I will prove who is the impostor to his face!" She retreated from me with wide-open eyes of alarm. "Why do you look at me like that?" she said. "We didn't really kill you except in a dream!"
I said, cheerfully "It would never do if we were all of the same opinion!" "Will you meet Santoris again, do you think?" This was the same question Catherine had put to me, and I answered it in the same manner. "I really don't know!" "Would you LIKE to meet him again?" he urged. I hesitated, smiling a little. "Yes, I think so!"
There was a moment's silence. Everyone stared. The blood burned in my veins, I felt my face crimsoning, yet I knew not why I should be embarrassed or at a loss for words. Santoris came to my relief. "There's nothing remarkable in that, is there?" he queried, lightly- "Bell-heather is quite common in this part of the world.
Harland, quickly, and with emphasis "That's quite true! You were always a good reader of character, Santoris! I believe I have not introduced you properly to our little friend" here he presented me by name and I held out my hand. Santoris took it in his own with a light, warm clasp gently releasing it again as he bowed.
"Unless a man looks after himself, no one else will look after him" -he said. "Reasonable care of one's self is UNselfishness," replied Santoris "But anything in excess of reasonable care is pure vice. A man should work for his livelihood chiefly in order not to become a burden on others.
In a very few minutes we were alongside the 'Dream' and soon on board, where Rafel Santoris received us with kindly courtesy and warmth of welcome. He expressed polite regret at the absence of Miss Harland none for that of Dr. Brayle or Mr. Swinton and then introduced us to his captain, an Italian named Marino Fazio, of whom Santoris said to us, smilingly:
Brayle, with a touch of irritation in his manner; "And, after all, 'thought-reading' is a kind of society amusement nowadays. There is nothing very difficult in it." "Nothing, indeed!" agreed Santoris, lightly; "And being as easy as it is, why do you not show us at once that antique piece of jewellery you have in your pocket!
The touch of the earth seemed strange to me after nearly a week spent at sea, and as I sprang from the launch on to the rough rocks, aided by Santoris, I was for a moment faint and giddy.
The soul is always young, and I live in the Spirit of youth, not in the Matter of age." Catherine turned her eyes upon me in wide-open amazement. "He must be mad!" she said. I made no reply either by word or look. We heard Mr. Harland talking, but in a lower tone, and we could not distinguish what he said. Presently Santoris answered, and his vibrant tones were clear and distinct.
I must not yield to this overpowering demand on my soul, it is surely an evil suggestion which asserts itself like the warning pain or fever of an impending disease. Can it be the influence of Santoris? No! I will never believe it!"
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