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Updated: June 13, 2025
He would sacrifice but perhaps I'm unjust to Jeckley; maybe it's only his bounce and flourish that I detest. Furthermore, I'm a little afraid of him; I don't want to be written up. "Esper Indiman," I read aloud. "Don't know him." "Ever heard the name?" asked Jeckley. I temporized. "It's unfamiliar, certainly." Jeckley looked gloomy. "Nobody seems to know him," he said.
Well, it is exactly a year and a day since that eventful afternoon when Esper Indiman's visiting-card was thrust into my unconscious hand. I have travelled along some strange ways in the course of that twelvemonth, and henceforth I shall be content to trudge along the common high-road of life. The gates of chance for me they are closed forever.
"Up to this moment I had kept silence, but now I must make my one try. 'He is but a boy, I said, leaning my elbows on the table and seeking to plumb the soul-depths in the cold, gray eyes of the man who sat opposite to me. But Balencourt only laughed amusedly. "'Then he should not assume a man's "'Will you come now, Cousin Esper? interrupted Estes.
"You see I'm doing the opening at the Globe to-night, and I must get my Wall Street copy to the office before the theatre. And what do you think of that by way of an extra assignment?" He took a card from his pocket-book and tossed it over. It was another one of Mr. Esper Indiman's calling-cards, and scrawled in pencil, "Call at 4020 Madison Avenue at eight o'clock this evening."
"I feel that if my birthplace crowns me, In place of singing. . . I should weep!" After Jasmin had recited his touching poem, he affectionately took leave of his friends, and the assembly dispersed. There is a Gascon proverb which says: "Qu'a vingt ans nouns po, Qu'a trent ans noun sa, Qu'a cranto noun er, Qu'a cincanto se paouso pa, Sabe pa que pot esper."
Tell you what, old man; come along with me and see the thing to a finish. Fate leads a card Mr. Esper Indiman's and we'll play the second hand; what do you say?" I declined firmly. God forbid that I should be featured, along with the other exhibits in the case, on the first page of to-morrow's Planet. "So," he assented, indifferently, and pushed his chair back.
The card that had been thrust into my hand had pencilled upon it, "Call at 4020 Madison Avenue at a quarter before eight this evening." Below, in copper-plate, was engraved the name, Mr. Esper Indiman.
The fez and the black bag had probably been brought into use after the men of mystery had entered the cab, and it was only through the accident of the suddenly released window-shade that Esper Indiman and I had seen what we did. "No thoroughfare" stood out plainly on this particular road. Then the humor took me to try conclusions with Chance herself, the method a la Indiman.
'A cab? I queried, and a passing hansom swung in towards the curb. "'I'd rather walk along with you, Cousin Esper, said Estes. 'Jump in, Mr. Crawfurd, and we'll pick you up later at the club. "Crawfurd nodded and was forthwith driven away. I turned to Estes. "'What is it, George? I asked. 'Remember, there's Elizabeth to be considered in this.
Push-carts are not allowed in Madison Avenue, anyway, and five minutes earlier or later he would have been moved on by the policeman on the beat. But in that mean time Esper Indiman and I had left the house. The cart piled high with red and yellow apples confronted us, and a dangerous glint came into Indiman's eye. "Indiman!" I implored. Too late!
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