English
Atnineo’clockthenextmorninghisservantcameinwithacupofchocolateonatrayandopenedtheshutters.
Dorianwassleepingquitepeacefully,lyingonhisrightside,withonehandunderneathhischeek.
Helookedlikeaboywhohadbeentiredoutwithplay,orstudy.
Themanhadtotouchhimtwiceontheshoulderbeforehewoke,andasheopenedhiseyesafaintsmilepassedacrosshislips,asthoughhehadbeenlostinsomedelightfuldream.Yethehadnotdreamedatall.
Hisnighthadbeenuntroubledbyanyimagesofpleasureorofpain.Butyouthsmileswithoutanyreason.Itisoneofitschiefestcharms.
Heturnedround,andleaninguponhiselbow,begantosiphischocolate.
ThemellowNovembersuncamestreamingintotheroom.
Theskywasbright,andtherewasagenialwarmthintheair.ItwasalmostlikeamorninginMay.
Graduallytheeventsoftheprecedingnightcreptwithsilent,blood-stainedfeetintohisbrainandreconstructedthemselvestherewithterribledistinctness.
Hewincedatthememoryofallthathehadsuffered,andforamomentthesamecuriousfeelingofloathingforBasilHallwardthathadmadehimkillhimashesatinthechaircamebacktohim,andhegrewcoldwithpassion.
Thedeadmanwasstillsittingthere,too,andinthesunlightnow.Howhorriblethatwas!
Suchhideousthingswereforthedarkness,notfortheday.
Hefeltthatifhebroodedonwhathehadgonethroughhewouldsickenorgrowmad.
Thereweresinswhosefascinationwasmoreinthememorythaninthedoingofthem,strangetriumphsthatgratifiedthepridemorethanthepassions,andgavetotheintellectaquickenedsenseofjoy,greaterthananyjoytheybrought,orcouldeverbring,tothesenses.Butthiswasnotoneofthem.
Itwasathingtobedrivenoutofthemind,tobedruggedwithpoppies,tobestrangledlestitmightstrangleoneitself.
Whenthehalf-hourstruck,hepassedhishandacrosshisforehead,andthengotuphastilyanddressedhimselfwithevenmorethanhisusualcare,givingagooddealofattentiontothechoiceofhisnecktieandscarf-pinandchanginghisringsmorethanonce.
Hespentalongtimealsooverbreakfast,tastingthevariousdishes,talkingtohisvaletaboutsomenewliveriesthathewasthinkingofgettingmadefortheservantsatSelby,andgoingthroughhiscorrespondence.Atsomeoftheletters,hesmiled.Threeofthemboredhim.
Onehereadseveraltimesoverandthentoreupwithaslightlookofannoyanceinhisface.“Thatawfulthing,awoman’smemory!”asLordHenryhadoncesaid.
Afterhehaddrunkhiscupofblackcoffee,hewipedhislipsslowlywithanapkin,motionedtohisservanttowait,andgoingovertothetable,satdownandwrotetwoletters.
Oneheputinhispocket,theotherhehandedtothevalet.
“Takethisroundto152,HertfordStreet,Francis,andifMr.Campbellisoutoftown,gethisaddress.”
Assoonashewasalone,helitacigaretteandbegansketchinguponapieceofpaper,drawingfirstflowersandbitsofarchitecture,andthenhumanfaces.
SuddenlyheremarkedthateveryfacethathedrewseemedtohaveafantasticlikenesstoBasilHallward.
Hefrowned,andgettingup,wentovertothebook-caseandtookoutavolumeathazard.
Hewasdeterminedthathewouldnotthinkaboutwhathadhappeneduntilitbecameabsolutelynecessarythatheshoulddoso.
Whenhehadstretchedhimselfonthesofa,helookedatthetitle-pageofthebook.
ItwasGautier’sEmauxetCamees,Charpentier’sJapanese-paperedition,withtheJacquemartetching.
Thebindingwasofcitron-greenleather,withadesignofgilttrellis-workanddottedpomegranates.
IthadbeengiventohimbyAdrianSingleton.
Asheturnedoverthepages,hiseyefellonthepoemaboutthehandofLacenaire,thecoldyellowhand“dusuppliceencoremallavee,”withitsdownyredhairsandits“doigtsdefaune.”
Heglancedathisownwhitetaperfingers,shudderingslightlyinspiteofhimself,andpassedon,tillhecametothoselovelystanzasuponVenice:
Surunegammechromatique,
Leseindeperiesruisselant,
LaVenusdel’Adriatique
Sortdel’eausoncorpsroseetblanc.
Lesdomes,surl’azurdesondes
Suivantlaphraseaupurcontour,
S’enflentcommedesgorgesrondes
Quesouleveunsoupird’amour.
L’esquifabordeetmedepose,
Jetantsonamarreaupilier,
Devantunefacaderose,
Surlemarbred’unescalier.
Howexquisitetheywere!Asonereadthem,oneseemedtobefloatingdownthegreenwater-waysofthepinkandpearlcity,seatedinablackgondolawithsilverprowandtrailingcurtains.
Themerelineslookedtohimlikethosestraightlinesofturquoise-bluethatfollowoneasonepushesouttotheLido.
Thesuddenflashesofcolourremindedhimofthegleamoftheopal-and-iris-throatedbirdsthatflutterroundthetallhoneycombedCampanile,orstalk,withsuchstatelygrace,throughthedim,dust-stainedarcades.
Leaningbackwithhalf-closedeyes,hekeptsayingoverandovertohimself:
“Devantunefacaderose,
Surlemarbred’unescalier.”
ThewholeofVenicewasinthosetwolines.
Herememberedtheautumnthathehadpassedthere,andawonderfullovethathadstirredhimtomaddelightfulfollies.Therewasromanceineveryplace.
ButVenice,likeOxford,hadkeptthebackgroundforromance,and,tothetrueromantic,backgroundwaseverything,oralmosteverything.
Basilhadbeenwithhimpartofthetime,andhadgonewildoverTintoret.PoorBasil!Whatahorriblewayforamantodie!
Hesighed,andtookupthevolumeagain,andtriedtoforget.
HereadoftheswallowsthatflyinandoutofthelittlecafeatSmyrnawheretheHadjissitcountingtheiramberbeadsandtheturbanedmerchantssmoketheirlongtasselledpipesandtalkgravelytoeachother;hereadoftheObeliskinthePlacedelaConcordethatweepstearsofgraniteinitslonelysunlessexileandlongstobebackbythehot,lotus-coveredNile,wherethereareSphinxes,androse-redibises,andwhitevultureswithgildedclaws,andcrocodileswithsmallberyleyesthatcrawloverthegreensteamingmud;hebegantobroodoverthoseverseswhich,drawingmusicfromkiss-stainedmarble,tellofthatcuriousstatuethatGautiercomparestoacontraltovoice,the“monstrecharmant”thatcouchesintheporphyry-roomoftheLouvre.
Butafteratimethebookfellfromhishand.
Hegrewnervous,andahorriblefitofterrorcameoverhim.
WhatifAlanCampbellshouldbeoutofEngland?
Dayswouldelapsebeforehecouldcomeback.Perhapshemightrefusetocome.Whatcouldhedothen?Everymomentwasofvitalimportance.
Theyhadbeengreatfriendsonce,fiveyearsbefore—almostinseparable,indeed.
Thentheintimacyhadcomesuddenlytoanend.
Whentheymetinsocietynow,itwasonlyDorianGraywhosmiled:AlanCampbellneverdid.
Hewasanextremelycleveryoungman,thoughhehadnorealappreciationofthevisiblearts,andwhateverlittlesenseofthebeautyofpoetryhepossessedhehadgainedentirelyfromDorian.
Hisdominantintellectualpassionwasforscience.
AtCambridgehehadspentagreatdealofhistimeworkinginthelaboratory,andhadtakenagoodclassintheNaturalScienceTriposofhisyear.
Indeed,hewasstilldevotedtothestudyofchemistry,andhadalaboratoryofhisowninwhichheusedtoshuthimselfupalldaylong,greatlytotheannoyanceofhismother,whohadsetherheartonhisstandingforParliamentandhadavagueideathatachemistwasapersonwhomadeupprescriptions.
Hewasanexcellentmusician,however,aswell,andplayedboththeviolinandthepianobetterthanmostamateurs.
Infact,itwasmusicthathadfirstbroughthimandDorianGraytogether—musicandthatindefinableattractionthatDorianseemedtobeabletoexercisewheneverhewished—and,indeed,exercisedoftenwithoutbeingconsciousofit.
TheyhadmetatLadyBerkshire’sthenightthatRubinsteinplayedthere,andafterthatusedtobealwaysseentogetherattheoperaandwherevergoodmusicwasgoingon.
Foreighteenmonthstheirintimacylasted.
CampbellwasalwayseitheratSelbyRoyalorinGrosvenorSquare.
Tohim,astomanyothers,DorianGraywasthetypeofeverythingthatiswonderfulandfascinatinginlife.
Whetherornotaquarrelhadtakenplacebetweenthemnooneeverknew.
ButsuddenlypeopleremarkedthattheyscarcelyspokewhentheymetandthatCampbellseemedalwaystogoawayearlyfromanypartyatwhichDorianGraywaspresent.
Hehadchanged,too—wasstrangelymelancholyattimes,appearedalmosttodislikehearingmusic,andwouldneverhimselfplay,givingashisexcuse,whenhewascalledupon,thathewassoabsorbedinsciencethathehadnotimeleftinwhichtopractise.Andthiswascertainlytrue.
Everydayheseemedtobecomemoreinterestedinbiology,andhisnameappearedonceortwiceinsomeofthescientificreviewsinconnectionwithcertaincuriousexperiments.
ThiswasthemanDorianGraywaswaitingfor.
Everysecondhekeptglancingattheclock.
Astheminuteswentbyhebecamehorriblyagitated.
Atlasthegotupandbegantopaceupanddowntheroom,lookinglikeabeautifulcagedthing.Hetooklongstealthystrides.Hishandswerecuriouslycold.
Thesuspensebecameunbearable.Timeseemedtohimtobecrawlingwithfeetoflead,whilehebymonstrouswindswasbeingswepttowardsthejaggededgeofsomeblackcleftofprecipice.
Heknewwhatwaswaitingforhimthere;sawit,indeed,and,shuddering,crushedwithdankhandshisburninglidsasthoughhewouldhaverobbedtheverybrainofsightanddriventheeyeballsbackintotheircave.Itwasuseless.
Thebrainhaditsownfoodonwhichitbattened,andtheimagination,madegrotesquebyterror,twistedanddistortedasalivingthingbypain,dancedlikesomefoulpuppetonastandandgrinnedthroughmovingmasks.Then,suddenly,timestoppedforhim.
Yes:thatblind,slow-breathingthingcrawlednomore,andhorriblethoughts,timebeingdead,racednimblyoninfront,anddraggedahideousfuturefromitsgrave,andshowedittohim.Hestaredatit.Itsveryhorrormadehimstone.
Atlastthedooropenedandhisservantentered.Heturnedglazedeyesuponhim.
“Mr.Campbell,sir,”saidtheman.
Asighofreliefbrokefromhisparchedlips,andthecolourcamebacktohischeeks.
“Askhimtocomeinatonce,Francis.”Hefeltthathewashimselfagain.Hismoodofcowardicehadpassedaway.
Themanbowedandretired.Inafewmoments,AlanCampbellwalkedin,lookingverysternandratherpale,hispallorbeingintensifiedbyhiscoal-blackhairanddarkeyebrows.
“Alan!Thisiskindofyou.Ithankyouforcoming.”
“Ihadintendednevertoenteryourhouseagain,Gray.
Butyousaiditwasamatteroflifeanddeath.”Hisvoicewashardandcold.Hespokewithslowdeliberation.
TherewasalookofcontemptinthesteadysearchinggazethatheturnedonDorian.
HekepthishandsinthepocketsofhisAstrakhancoat,andseemednottohavenoticedthegesturewithwhichhehadbeengreeted.
“Yes:itisamatteroflifeanddeath,Alan,andtomorethanoneperson.Sitdown.”
Campbelltookachairbythetable,andDoriansatoppositetohim.Thetwomen’seyesmet.InDorian’stherewasinfinitepity.Heknewthatwhathewasgoingtodowasdreadful.
Afterastrainedmomentofsilence,heleanedacrossandsaid,veryquietly,butwatchingtheeffectofeachworduponthefaceofhimhehadsentfor,“Alan,inalockedroomatthetopofthishouse,aroomtowhichnobodybutmyselfhasaccess,adeadmanisseatedatatable.Hehasbeendeadtenhoursnow.
Don’tstir,anddon’tlookatmelikethat.
Whothemanis,whyhedied,howhedied,aremattersthatdonotconcernyou.Whatyouhavetodoisthis—”
“Stop,Gray.Idon’twanttoknowanythingfurther.
Whetherwhatyouhavetoldmeistrueornottruedoesn’tconcernme.
Ientirelydeclinetobemixedupinyourlife.Keepyourhorriblesecretstoyourself.Theydon’tinterestmeanymore.”
“Alan,theywillhavetointerestyou.Thisonewillhavetointerestyou.Iamawfullysorryforyou,Alan.ButIcan’thelpmyself.
Youaretheonemanwhoisabletosaveme.
Iamforcedtobringyouintothematter.Ihavenooption.Alan,youarescientific.
Youknowaboutchemistryandthingsofthatkind.Youhavemadeexperiments.
Whatyouhavegottodoistodestroythethingthatisupstairs—todestroyitsothatnotavestigeofitwillbeleft.
Nobodysawthispersoncomeintothehouse.
Indeed,atthepresentmomentheissupposedtobeinParis.Hewillnotbemissedformonths.
Whenheismissed,theremustbenotraceofhimfoundhere.
You,Alan,youmustchangehim,andeverythingthatbelongstohim,intoahandfulofashesthatImayscatterintheair.”
“Youaremad,Dorian.”
“Ah!IwaswaitingforyoutocallmeDorian.”
“Youaremad,Itellyou—madtoimaginethatIwouldraiseafingertohelpyou,madtomakethismonstrousconfession.
Iwillhavenothingtodowiththismatter,whateveritis.
DoyouthinkIamgoingtoperilmyreputationforyou?
Whatisittomewhatdevil’sworkyouareupto?”
“Itwassuicide,Alan.”
“Iamgladofthat.Butwhodrovehimtoit?You,Ishouldfancy.”
“Doyoustillrefusetodothisforme?”
“OfcourseIrefuse.Iwillhaveabsolutelynothingtodowithit.Idon’tcarewhatshamecomesonyou.Youdeserveitall.
Ishouldnotbesorrytoseeyoudisgraced,publiclydisgraced.
Howdareyouaskme,ofallmenintheworld,tomixmyselfupinthishorror?
Ishouldhavethoughtyouknewmoreaboutpeople’scharacters.
YourfriendLordHenryWottoncan’thavetaughtyoumuchaboutpsychology,whateverelsehehastaughtyou.
Nothingwillinducemetostirasteptohelpyou.Youhavecometothewrongman.Gotosomeofyourfriends.Don’tcometome.”
“Alan,itwasmurder.Ikilledhim.
Youdon’tknowwhathehadmademesuffer.
Whatevermylifeis,hehadmoretodowiththemakingorthemarringofitthanpoorHarryhashad.
Hemaynothaveintendedit,theresultwasthesame.”
“Murder!GoodGod,Dorian,isthatwhatyouhavecometo?Ishallnotinformuponyou.Itisnotmybusiness.
Besides,withoutmystirringinthematter,youarecertaintobearrested.
Nobodyevercommitsacrimewithoutdoingsomethingstupid.ButIwillhavenothingtodowithit.”
“Youmusthavesomethingtodowithit.Wait,waitamoment;listentome.Onlylisten,Alan.
AllIaskofyouistoperformacertainscientificexperiment.
Yougotohospitalsanddead-houses,andthehorrorsthatyoudotheredon’taffectyou.
Ifinsomehideousdissecting-roomorfetidlaboratoryyoufoundthismanlyingonaleadentablewithredguttersscoopedoutinitforthebloodtoflowthrough,youwouldsimplylookuponhimasanadmirablesubject.Youwouldnotturnahair.
Youwouldnotbelievethatyouweredoinganythingwrong.
Onthecontrary,youwouldprobablyfeelthatyouwerebenefitingthehumanrace,orincreasingthesumofknowledgeintheworld,orgratifyingintellectualcuriosity,orsomethingofthatkind.
WhatIwantyoutodoismerelywhatyouhaveoftendonebefore.
Indeed,todestroyabodymustbefarlesshorriblethanwhatyouareaccustomedtoworkat.
And,remember,itistheonlypieceofevidenceagainstme.
Ifitisdiscovered,Iamlost;anditissuretobediscoveredunlessyouhelpme.”
“Ihavenodesiretohelpyou.Youforgetthat.Iamsimplyindifferenttothewholething.Ithasnothingtodowithme.”
“Alan,Ientreatyou.ThinkofthepositionIamin.
JustbeforeyoucameIalmostfaintedwithterror.Youmayknowterroryourselfsomeday.No!don’tthinkofthat.
Lookatthematterpurelyfromthescientificpointofview.
Youdon’tinquirewherethedeadthingsonwhichyouexperimentcomefrom.Don’tinquirenow.Ihavetoldyoutoomuchasitis.ButIbegofyoutodothis.Wewerefriendsonce,Alan.”
“Don’tspeakaboutthosedays,Dorian—theyaredead.”
“Thedeadlingersometimes.Themanupstairswillnotgoaway.
Heissittingatthetablewithbowedheadandoutstretchedarms.Alan!Alan!
Ifyoudon’tcometomyassistance,Iamruined.Why,theywillhangme,Alan!Don’tyouunderstand?
TheywillhangmeforwhatIhavedone.”
“Thereisnogoodinprolongingthisscene.Iabsolutelyrefusetodoanythinginthematter.Itisinsaneofyoutoaskme.”
“Yourefuse?”
“Yes.”
“Ientreatyou,Alan.”
“Itisuseless.”
ThesamelookofpitycameintoDorianGray’seyes.
Thenhestretchedouthishand,tookapieceofpaper,andwrotesomethingonit.
Hereaditovertwice,foldeditcarefully,andpusheditacrossthetable.
Havingdonethis,hegotupandwentovertothewindow.
Campbelllookedathiminsurprise,andthentookupthepaper,andopenedit.
Ashereadit,hisfacebecameghastlypaleandhefellbackinhischair.
Ahorriblesenseofsicknesscameoverhim.
Hefeltasifhisheartwasbeatingitselftodeathinsomeemptyhollow.
Aftertwoorthreeminutesofterriblesilence,Dorianturnedroundandcameandstoodbehindhim,puttinghishanduponhisshoulder.
“Iamsosorryforyou,Alan,”hemurmured,“butyouleavemenoalternative.Ihavealetterwrittenalready.Hereitis.Youseetheaddress.Ifyoudon’thelpme,Imustsendit.Ifyoudon’thelpme,Iwillsendit.Youknowwhattheresultwillbe.Butyouaregoingtohelpme.Itisimpossibleforyoutorefusenow.Itriedtospareyou.
Youwilldomethejusticetoadmitthat.Youwerestern,harsh,offensive.
Youtreatedmeasnomanhaseverdaredtotreatme—nolivingman,atanyrate.Iboreitall.Nowitisformetodictateterms.”
Campbellburiedhisfaceinhishands,andashudderpassedthroughhim.
“Yes,itismyturntodictateterms,Alan.Youknowwhattheyare.Thethingisquitesimple.Come,don’tworkyourselfintothisfever.Thethinghastobedone.Faceit,anddoit.”
AgroanbrokefromCampbell’slipsandheshiveredallover.
Thetickingoftheclockonthemantelpieceseemedtohimtobedividingtimeintoseparateatomsofagony,eachofwhichwastooterribletobeborne.
Hefeltasifanironringwasbeingslowlytightenedroundhisforehead,asifthedisgracewithwhichhewasthreatenedhadalreadycomeuponhim.
Thehanduponhisshoulderweighedlikeahandoflead.Itwasintolerable.Itseemedtocrushhim.
“Come,Alan,youmustdecideatonce.”
“Icannotdoit,”hesaid,mechanically,asthoughwordscouldalterthings.
“Youmust.Youhavenochoice.Don’tdelay.”
Hehesitatedamoment.“Isthereafireintheroomupstairs?”
“Yes,thereisagas-firewithasbestos.”
“Ishallhavetogohomeandgetsomethingsfromthelaboratory.”
“No,Alan,youmustnotleavethehouse.Writeoutonasheetofnotepaperwhatyouwantandmyservantwilltakeacabandbringthethingsbacktoyou.”
Campbellscrawledafewlines,blottedthem,andaddressedanenvelopetohisassistant.
Doriantookthenoteupandreaditcarefully.
Thenherangthebellandgaveittohisvalet,withorderstoreturnassoonaspossibleandtobringthethingswithhim.
Asthehalldoorshut,Campbellstartednervously,andhavinggotupfromthechair,wentovertothechimney-piece.Hewasshiveringwithakindofague.
Fornearlytwentyminutes,neitherofthemenspoke.
Aflybuzzednoisilyabouttheroom,andthetickingoftheclockwaslikethebeatofahammer.
Asthechimestruckone,Campbellturnedround,andlookingatDorianGray,sawthathiseyeswerefilledwithtears.
Therewassomethinginthepurityandrefinementofthatsadfacethatseemedtoenragehim.
“Youareinfamous,absolutelyinfamous!”hemuttered.
“Hush,Alan.Youhavesavedmylife,”saidDorian.
“Yourlife?Goodheavens!whatalifethatis!
Youhavegonefromcorruptiontocorruption,andnowyouhaveculminatedincrime.
IndoingwhatIamgoingtodo—whatyouforcemetodo—itisnotofyourlifethatIamthinking.”
“Ah,Alan,”murmuredDorianwithasigh,“IwishyouhadathousandthpartofthepityformethatIhaveforyou.”
Heturnedawayashespokeandstoodlookingoutatthegarden.Campbellmadenoanswer.
Afterabouttenminutesaknockcametothedoor,andtheservantentered,carryingalargemahoganychestofchemicals,withalongcoilofsteelandplatinumwireandtworathercuriouslyshapedironclamps.
“ShallIleavethethingshere,sir?”heaskedCampbell.
“Yes,”saidDorian.“AndIamafraid,Francis,thatIhaveanothererrandforyou.WhatisthenameofthemanatRichmondwhosuppliesSelbywithorchids?”
“Harden,sir.”
“Yes—Harden.YoumustgodowntoRichmondatonce,seeHardenpersonally,andtellhimtosendtwiceasmanyorchidsasIordered,andtohaveasfewwhiteonesaspossible.Infact,Idon’twantanywhiteones.
Itisalovelyday,Francis,andRichmondisaveryprettyplace—otherwiseIwouldn’tbotheryouaboutit.”
“Notrouble,sir.AtwhattimeshallIbeback?”
DorianlookedatCampbell.“Howlongwillyourexperimenttake,Alan?”hesaidinacalmindifferentvoice.Thepresenceofathirdpersonintheroomseemedtogivehimextraordinarycourage.
Campbellfrownedandbithislip.“Itwilltakeaboutfivehours,”heanswered.
“Itwillbetimeenough,then,ifyouarebackathalf-pastseven,Francis.
Orstay:justleavemythingsoutfordressing.Youcanhavetheeveningtoyourself.
Iamnotdiningathome,soIshallnotwantyou.”
“Thankyou,sir,”saidtheman,leavingtheroom.
“Now,Alan,thereisnotamomenttobelost.Howheavythischestis!I’lltakeitforyou.Youbringtheotherthings.”
Hespokerapidlyandinanauthoritativemanner.Campbellfeltdominatedbyhim.Theylefttheroomtogether.
Whentheyreachedthetoplanding,Doriantookoutthekeyandturneditinthelock.
Thenhestopped,andatroubledlookcameintohiseyes.Heshuddered.
“Idon’tthinkIcangoin,Alan,”hemurmured.
“Itisnothingtome.Idon’trequireyou,”saidCampbellcoldly.
Dorianhalfopenedthedoor.Ashedidso,hesawthefaceofhisportraitleeringinthesunlight.
Onthefloorinfrontofitthetorncurtainwaslying.
Herememberedthatthenightbeforehehadforgotten,forthefirsttimeinhislife,tohidethefatalcanvas,andwasabouttorushforward,whenhedrewbackwithashudder.
Whatwasthatloathsomereddewthatgleamed,wetandglistening,ononeofthehands,asthoughthecanvashadsweatedblood?Howhorribleitwas!
—morehorrible,itseemedtohimforthemoment,thanthesilentthingthatheknewwasstretchedacrossthetable,thethingwhosegrotesquemisshapenshadowonthespottedcarpetshowedhimthatithadnotstirred,butwasstillthere,ashehadleftit.
Heheavedadeepbreath,openedthedooralittlewider,andwithhalf-closedeyesandavertedhead,walkedquicklyin,determinedthathewouldnotlookevenonceuponthedeadman.
Then,stoopingdownandtakingupthegold-and-purplehanging,heflungitrightoverthepicture.
Therehestopped,feelingafraidtoturnround,andhiseyesfixedthemselvesontheintricaciesofthepatternbeforehim.
HeheardCampbellbringingintheheavychest,andtheirons,andtheotherthingsthathehadrequiredforhisdreadfulwork.
HebegantowonderifheandBasilHallwardhadevermet,and,ifso,whattheyhadthoughtofeachother.
“Leavemenow,”saidasternvoicebehindhim.
Heturnedandhurriedout,justconsciousthatthedeadmanhadbeenthrustbackintothechairandthatCampbellwasgazingintoaglisteningyellowface.
Ashewasgoingdownstairs,heheardthekeybeingturnedinthelock.
ItwaslongaftersevenwhenCampbellcamebackintothelibrary.Hewaspale,butabsolutelycalm.
“Ihavedonewhatyouaskedmetodo,”hemuttered“Andnow,good-bye.Letusneverseeeachotheragain.”
“Youhavesavedmefromruin,Alan.Icannotforgetthat,”saidDoriansimply.
AssoonasCampbellhadleft,hewentupstairs.Therewasahorriblesmellofnitricacidintheroom.Butthethingthathadbeensittingatthetablewasgone.
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