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Updated: May 22, 2025
The negroes used to say that the devil was afraid of Gaeki, and he might have been, if to disable a man or his horse were the devil's will. But I think, rather, the negroes imagined the devil to fear what they feared themselves. "Now, what could bring Gaeki here?" said Lewes. "It was the horse that Gosford overheated in his race to you," replied my father.
In what right, Pendleton, does this adventurous Englishman feel himself secure?" My father did not reply to Lewis's discourse. His comment was in another quarter. "Here is young Marshall and Gaeki," he said. The lawyer rose and came over to the window. Two persons were advancing from the direction of the stables a tall, delicate boy, and a strange old man.
My father walked about the room, his face in reflection. Gosford sat at his ease, transcribing a note on his portfolio. Old Gaeki had gone back to his chair and to his little case of bottles; he got them up on his knees, as though he would be diverted by fingering the tools of his profession.
Then suddenly, in the strained stillness of the room, old Doctor Gaeki laughed. Gosford lifted his long pink face, with its cropped beard bringing out the ugly mouth. "Why do you laugh, my good man?" he said. "I laugh," replied Gaeki, "because a figure 5 can have so many colors." And now my father and Lewis were no less astonished than Mr. Gosford.
My father took the paper and read it slowly, and old Gaeki nosed it over my father's arm, his eyes searching the structure of each word, while Mr. Gosford sat back comfortably in his chair like one elevated to a victory. "It is in Marshall's hand and signature," said my father, and old Gaeki, nodded, wrinkling his face under his shaggy eyebrows.
The old man walked with a quick, jerky, stride. It was the old country doctor Gaeki. And, unlike any other man of his profession, he would work as long and as carefully on the body of a horse as he would on the body of a man, snapping out his quaint oaths, and in a stress of effort, as though he struggled with some invisible creature for its prey.
Gosford," he said, "will you kindly ask young Marshall to come in here?" The man would have refused, with some rejoinder, but my father was looking at him, and he could not find the courage to resist my father's will. He got up and went out, and presently returned followed by the lad and Gaeki.
I see you writing this release; and Mr. Gosford" my father's voice went up full and strong, "I see you writing it in terror sweat on your face!" "The Devil take your nonsense!" cried the Englishman. My father stood up with a twisted, ironical smile. "If you doubt my skill, Mr. Gosford, as a fortune, or rather a misfortune-teller I will ask Mr. Lewis and Herman Gaeki to tell me what they see."
"Gaeki," cried my father, "you have trapped a rogue!" "And I have lost a measure of good acid," replied the old man. And he began to gather up the bits of his broken bottle from the table. VIII. The Hole in the Mahogany Panel Sir Henry paused a moment, his finger between the pages of the ancient diary. "It is the inspirational quality in these cases," he said, "that impresses me.
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