Fancies and Goodnights

THE RIGHT SIDE

A young man, who was looking extremely pale, walked to the middle of Westminster Bridge and clambered onto the parapet. A swarthy gentleman, some years his senior, in evening dress, with dark red carnation, Inverness cape, monocle, and short imperial, appeared as if from nowhere, and had him by the ankle.

«Let me go, damn you!» muttered the would-be suicide, with a tug and a kick.

«Get down, and walk beside me,» said the stranger, «or that policeman, who has already taken a step or two in our direction, will most certainly run you in. Let us pretend to be two friends, one of whom wished for a thrill, while the other was anxious that he should not tumble over.»

The young man, who was so eager to be in the Thames, had a great aversion to being in prison. Accordingly he fell into step with the stranger, and, smiling (for now they were just passing the bobby), «Damn and blast you!» he said. «Why can't you mind your own silly business?»

«But, my dear Philip Westwick,» replied the other, «I regard you as very much my business.»

«Who may you be?» cried the young man impatiently. «I don't know you. How did you get hold of my name?»

«It came into my mind,» said his companion, «just half an hour ago, when first you formed your rash resolution.»

«I don't know how that can be,» said Philip. «Nor do I care.»

«You lovers,» said his companion, «are surprised by nothing, except first that your mistresses should fancy you, and next, that they should fancy someone else.»

«How do you know,» cried our poor Philip, «that it was over that sort of thing?»

«I know that, and much more, equally ridiculous,» replied the other. «What would you say if I reminded you that no less than a month ago, when you considered yourself in Heaven, and were, in point of fact, in your Millicent's arms, you discerned something of the essence of ennui in the nape of her neck, and actually wished her transformed into the little brunette who serves in a tea-shop in Bond Street? And now you are on the brink of suicide because your Millicent has left you, though the little brunette is, for all you know, in Bond Street still. What do you say to that?»

«You seem to be unaware,» said Philip, «that what a man wishes when he is in his girl's arms, and what he wishes when someone else is probably there, are two very different things. Otherwise, I admit your knowledge is devilish uncanny.»

«That is only natural,» replied the other with a complacent smile, from which Philip immediately realized that he was in the company of none other than the Devil himself.

«What are you up to?» he demanded, drawing back a little.

The Devil, with a look of great benevolence, offered him a cigarette.

«I suppose it's not doped?» inquired Philip sniffing at it suspiciously.

«Oh, come!» said the Devil with a sneer. «Do you think I need resort to such measures as that to overcome you? I have reason on my side. Will you have a light?» Without pausing for a reply, he extended his middle finger, the tip of which immediately ignited the cigarette.

«You have a reputation for reasoning to some effect,» said Philip. «I have very little desire to be eternally damned.»

«What did you expect, then,» said the Devil, «when you contemplated suicide?»

«I see nothing wrong in that,» said our hero.

«Nor does a puppy that destroys his master's slipper,» retorted the Devil. «However, he is punished for it.»

«I can't believe it,» said Philip obstinately.

«Come with me, then,» said the Devil, and took him to a Fun Fair in the neighbourhood of the Tottenham Court Road. Here a number of the ugliest wretches on earth were amusing themselves with gambling games; others were peering into stereoscopes which showed scenes of Parisian nightlife. The rest of them were picking pockets, making overtures to certain female habitudes of the place, swearing, and indulging in all manner of filthy conversation.

The Devil looked on all these much as one who has been walking among the poppies and the wild cornflowers of the fields looks upon the cultivated plants in the garden about his backdoor. The commissionaire touched his cap much as gardeners do; the Devil acknowledged the salute and, taking out a latch-key, led Philip to a little door in the wall which, being opened, discovered a small private elevator.

They got in, and descended for several minutes at an incredible speed.

«My dear Devil,» said Philip, puffing at his cigarette, which was, in fact, doped, and gave him the impression of being a man of affairs, «my dear Devil, if we go on at this rate, we shall soon be in Hell itself.»

Nothing could have been more true. The lift stopped and they got out. They were in a vast hall which resembled nothing so much as the foyer of some gargantuan theatre or picture palace. There were two or three box offices, in front of which the prices of admission were displayed: Stalls — gluttony; Private Boxes — lechery; Dress Circle — vanity; Gallery — sloth; and so forth. There was also a bar, at which one or two uniformed fiends were chatting with the barmaids, among whom our friend was astonished to see the little brunette from Bond Street

Now and then a door opened upon the vast auditorium, and it was apparent that the play or movie in progress was a lively one.

«There's a dance lounge through here,» said the Devil, «to which I particularly wanted to take you.»

A door was opened for them. They found themselves in a reasonably large apartment got up in the grotto style, with ferns and imitation rock-work, and a damp and chilly air. A band was playing a travesty of Scarlatti. Several people were dancing rather listlessly. Philip observed that many of them were disgustingly fat

The Devil led him up to a slim and pale girl, murmured a few words, and Philip, seeing nothing else to do, bowed, offered her his arm, and they began to circle the room.

She danced very languidly, and kept her heavy lids drooped low over her eyes. Philip uttered one or two trifling remarks. «Do you come here often?» he said. She smiled faintly, but did not reply.

He was a little piqued at her remaining so listless (besides, he had smoked one of the Devil's cigarettes). «How very cold your hand is!» he said, giving it a slight squeeze. It certainly was. He manoeuvred this unresponsive partner into a corner, where he clutched her waist rather more tightly than was necessary for dancing. He felt a chilly moisture penetrate the sleeve of his jacket, and a faint but unmistakable smell of river-mud become perceptible. He looked at her closely, and observed something extremely pearly about her eyes.

«I did not catch your name,» said Philip.

His partner scarcely moved her colourless lips. «Ophelia,» she said.

«Excuse me,» said Philip.

He lost no time in rejoining the Devil.

«Now,» said that worthy, «are you still unable to believe that those who drown themselves are eternally damned?»

Philip was forced to admit the point.

«You have no idea how bored that poor girl is,» said the Devil compassionately. «And she has only been here a few hundred years. What is that, in comparison to Eternity?»

«Very little. Very little, indeed,» said Philip.

«You see what sort of partners she gets,» continued the archfiend. «During every dance they reveal to her, and she to them, some little unpleasantness of the sort that so disquieted you.»

«But why should they be in a dance lounge?» asked Philip.

«Why not?» said the Devil with a shrug. «Have another cigarette.»

He then proposed that they should adjourn to his office, to talk matters over.

«Now, my dear Westwick,» said he, when they were comfortably ensconced in armchairs, «what shall our little arrangement be? I can, of course, annihilate all that has occurred. In that case you will find yourself back on the parapet, in the very act of jumping, just as you were when I caught you by the ankle. Shortly afterwards you will arrive in the little dance lounge you saw; whether fat or thin depends upon the caprice of the waters.»

«It is night,» said Philip. «The river flows at four miles an hour. I should probably get out to sea unobserved. Yes, I should almost certainly be one of the fat ones. They appeared to me remarkably deficient in it or S.A., if those terms are familiar to you.»

«I have heard of them,» said the Devil, with a smile. «Have a cigar.»

«No, thanks,» said Philip. «What alternative do you suggest?»

«Here is our standard contract,» said the Devil. «Do have a cigar. You see — unlimited wealth, fifty years, Helen of Troy — well, that's obsolete. Say Miss —,» and he mentioned the name of a delightful film star.

«Of course,» said Philip, «there's this little clause about possession of my soul. Is that essential?»

«Well, it's the usual thing,» said the Devil. «Better let it stand. This is where you sign.»

«Well, I don't know,» said Philip. «I don't think I'll sign.»

«What?» cried the Devil

Our hero pursed his lips.

«I don't want to influence you, my dear Westwick,» said the Devil, «but have you considered the difference between coming in tomorrow as a drowned suicide, and coming in — fifty glorious years hence, mind — as a member of the staff? Those were members of the staff you saw talking to the little brunette at the bar. Nice girl!»

«All the same,» said Philip, «I don't think I'll sign. Many thanks, though.»

«All right,» said the Devil. «Back you go, then!»

Philip was aware of a rushing sensation: he seemed to be shooting upwards like a rocket. However, he kept his presence of mind, kept his weight on his heels, and, when he got to the parapet, jumped down, but on the right side.