THE MAN WHO WAS THURSDAY  A NIGHTMARE  G .  K .  CHESTERTON  To Edmund Clerihew Bentley  A cloud was on the mind of men , and wailing went the weather ,  Yea , a sick cloud upon the soul when we were boys together .  Science announced nonentity and art admired decay ;  The world was old and ended : but you and I were gay ;  Round us in antic order their crippled vices came —  Lust that had lost its laughter , fear that had lost its shame .  Like the white lock of Whistler , that lit our aimless gloom ,  Men showed their own white feather as proudly as a plume .  Life was a fly that faded , and death a drone that stung ;  The world was very old indeed when you and I were young .  They twisted even decent sin to shapes not to be named :  Men were ashamed of honour ; but we were not ashamed .  Weak if we were and foolish , not thus we failed , not thus­ ;  When that black Baal blocked the heavens he had no hymns from us  Children we were — our forts of sand were even as weak as eve ,  High as they went we piled them up to break that bitter sea .  Fools as we were in motley , all jangling and absurd ,  When all church bells were silent our cap and bells were heard .  Not all unhelped we held the fort , our tiny flags unfurled ;  Some giants laboured in that cloud to lift it from the world .  I find again the book we found , I feel the hour that flings  Far out of fish‑shaped Paumanok some cry of cleaner things ;  And the Green Carnation withered , as in forest fires that pass ,  Roared in the wind of all the world ten million leaves of grass ;  Or sane and sweet and sudden as a bird sings in the rain —  Truth out of Tusitala spoke and pleasure out of pain .  Yea , cool and clear and sudden as a bird sings in the grey ,  Dunedin to Samoa spoke , and darkness unto day .  But we were young ; we lived to see God break their bitter charms .  God and the good Republic come riding back in arms :  We have seen the City of Mansoul , even as it rocked , relieved —  Blessed are they who did not see , but being blind , believed .  This is a tale of those old fears , even of those emptied hells ,  And none but you shall understand the true thing that it tells —  Of what colossal gods of shame could cow men and yet crash ,  Of what huge devils hid the stars , yet fell at a pistol flash .  The doubts that were so plain to chase , so dreadful to withstand —  Oh , who shall understand but you ; yea , who shall understand ?  The doubts that drove us through the night as we two talked amain ,  And day had broken on the streets e’er it broke upon the brain .  Between us , by the peace of God , such truth can now be told ;  Yea , there is strength in striking root and good in growing old .  We have found common things at last and marriage and a creed ,  And I may safely write it now , and you may safely read .  CHAPTER I  THE TWO POETS OF SAFFRON PARK  THE suburb of Saffron Park lay on the sunset side of London , as red and ragged as a cloud of sunset .  It was built of a bright brick throughout ; its sky‑line was fantastic , and even its ground plan was wild .  It had been the outburst of a speculative builder , faintly tinged with art , who called its architecture sometimes Elizabethan and sometimes Queen Anne , apparently under the impression that the two sovereigns were identical .  It was described with some justice as an artistic colony , though it never in any definable way produced any art .  But although its pretensions to be an intellectual centre were a little vague , its pretensions to be a pleasant place were quite indisputable .  The stranger who looked for the first time at the quaint red houses could only think how very oddly shaped the people must be who could fit in to them .  Nor when he met the people was he disappointed in this respect .  The place was not only pleasant , but perfect , if once he could regard it not as a deception but rather as a dream .  Even if the people were not “ artists , ” the whole was nevertheless artistic .  That young man with the long , auburn hair and the impudent face — that young man was not really a poet ; but surely he was a poem .  That old gentleman with the wild , white beard and the wild , white hat — that venerable humbug was not really a philosopher ; but at least he was the cause of philosophy in others .  That scientific gentleman with the bald , egg‑like head and the bare , bird‑like neck had no real right to the airs of science that he assumed .  He had not discovered anything new in biology ; but what biological creature could he have discovered more singular than himself ?  Thus , and thus only , the whole place had properly to be regarded ; it had to be considered not so much as a workshop for artists , but as a frail but finished work of art .  A man who stepped into its social atmosphere felt as if he had stepped into a written comedy .  More especially this attractive unreality fell upon it about nightfall , when the extravagant roofs were dark against the afterglow and the whole insane village seemed as separate as a drifting cloud .  This again was more strongly true of the many nights of local festivity , when the little gardens were often illuminated , and the big Chinese lanterns glowed in the dwarfish trees like some fierce and monstrous fruit .  And this was strongest of all on one particular evening , still vaguely remembered in the locality , of which the auburn‑haired poet was the hero .  It was not by any means the only evening of which he was the hero .  On many nights those passing by his little back garden might hear his high , didactic voice laying down the law to men and particularly to women .  The attitude of women in such cases was indeed one of the paradoxes of the place .  Most of the women were of the kind vaguely called emancipated , and professed some protest against male supremacy .  Yet these new women would always pay to a man the extravagant compliment which no ordinary woman ever pays to him , that of listening while he is talking .  And Mr. Lucian Gregory , the red‑haired poet , was really ( in some sense ) a man worth listening to , even if one only laughed at the end of it .  He put the old cant of the lawlessness of art and the art of lawlessness with a certain impudent freshness which gave at least a momentary pleasure .  He was helped in some degree by the arresting oddity of his appearance , which he worked , as the phrase goes , for all it was worth .  His dark red hair parted in the middle was literally like a woman’s , and curved into the slow curls of a virgin in a pre‑Raphaelite picture .  From within this almost saintly oval , however , his face projected suddenly broad and brutal , the chin carried forward with a look of cockney contempt .  This combination at once tickled and terrified the nerves of a neurotic population .  He seemed like a walking blasphemy , a blend of the angel and the ape .  This particular evening , if it is remembered for nothing else , will be remembered in that place for its strange sunset .  It looked like the end of the world .  All the heaven seemed covered with a quite vivid and palpable plumage ; you could only say that the sky was full of feathers , and of feathers that almost brushed the face .  Across the great part of the dome they were grey , with the strangest tints of violet and mauve and an unnatural pink or pale green ; but towards the west the whole grew past description , transparent and passionate , and the last red‑hot plumes of it covered up the sun like something too good to be seen .  The whole was so close about the earth , as to express nothing but a violent secrecy .  The very empyrean seemed to be a secret .  It expressed that splendid smallness which is the soul of local patriotism .  The very sky seemed small .  I say that there are some inhabitants who may remember the evening if only by that oppressive sky .  There are others who may remember it because it marked the first appearance in the place of the second poet of Saffron Park .  For a long time the red‑haired revolutionary had reigned without a rival ; it was upon the night of the sunset that his solitude suddenly ended .  The new poet , who introduced himself by the name of Gabriel Syme was a very mild-looking mortal , with a fair , pointed beard and faint , yellow hair .  But an impression grew that he was less meek than he looked .  He signalised his entrance by differing with the established poet , Gregory , upon the whole nature of poetry .  He said that he ( Syme ) was poet of law , a poet of order ; nay , he said he was a poet of respectability .  So all the Saffron Parkers looked at him as if he had that moment fallen out of that impossible sky .  In fact , Mr. Lucian Gregory , the anarchic poet , connected the two events .  “ It may well be , ” he said , in his sudden lyrical manner , “ it may well be on such a night of clouds and cruel colours that there is brought forth upon the earth such a portent as a respectable poet .  You say you are a poet of law ; I say you are a contradiction in terms .  I only wonder there were not comets and earthquakes on the night you appeared in this garden .  ”  The man with the meek blue eyes and the pale , pointed beard endured these thunders with a certain submissive solemnity .  The third party of the group , Gregory’s sister Rosamond , who had her brother’s braids of red hair , but a kindlier face underneath them , laughed with such mixture of admiration and disapproval as she gave commonly to the family oracle .  Gregory resumed in high oratorical good humour .  “ An artist is identical with an anarchist , ” he cried .  “ You might transpose the words anywhere .  An anarchist is an artist .  The man who throws a bomb is an artist , because he prefers a great moment to everything .  He sees how much more valuable is one burst of blazing light , one peal of perfect thunder , than the mere common bodies of a few shapeless policemen .  An artist disregards all governments , abolishes all conventions .  The poet delights in disorder only .  If it were not so , the most poetical thing in the world would be the Underground Railway .  ”  “ So it is , ” said Mr. Syme .  “ Nonsense !  ” said Gregory , who was very rational when anyone else attempted paradox .  “ Why do all the clerks and navvies in the railway trains look so sad and tired , so very sad and tired ?  I will tell you .  It is because they know that the train is going right .  It is because they know that whatever place they have taken a ticket for that place they will reach .  It is because after they have passed Sloane Square they know that the next station must be Victoria , and nothing but Victoria .  Oh , their wild rapture !  oh , their eyes like stars and their souls again in Eden , if the next station were unaccountably Baker Street !  ”  “ It is you who are unpoetical , ” replied the poet Syme .  “ If what you say of clerks is true , they can only be as prosaic as your poetry .  The rare , strange thing is to hit the mark ; the gross , obvious thing is to miss it .  We feel it is epical when man with one wild arrow strikes a distant bird .  Is it not also epical when man with one wild engine strikes a distant station ?  Chaos is dull ; because in chaos the train might indeed go anywhere , to Baker Street or to Bagdad .  But man is a magician , and his whole magic is in this , that he does say Victoria , and lo !  it is Victoria .  No , take your books of mere poetry and prose ; let me read a time table , with tears of pride .  Take your Byron , who commemorates the defeats of man ; give me Bradshaw , who commemorates his victories .  Give me Bradshaw , I say !  ”  “ Must you go ?  ” inquired Gregory sarcastically .  “ I tell you , ” went on Syme with passion , “ that every time a train comes in I feel that it has broken past batteries of besiegers , and that man has won a battle against chaos .  You say contemptuously that when one has left Sloane Square one must come to Victoria .  I say that one might do a thousand things instead , and that whenever I really come there I have the sense of hairbreadth escape .  And when I hear the guard shout out the word ‘Victoria , ’ it is not an unmeaning word .  It is to me the cry of a herald announcing conquest .  It is to me indeed ‘Victoria’ ; it is the victory of Adam .  ”  Gregory wagged his heavy , red head with a slow and sad smile .  “ And even then , ” he said , “ we poets always ask the question , ‘And what is Victoria now that you have got there ?  ’ You think Victoria is like the New Jerusalem .  We know that the New Jerusalem will only be like Victoria .  Yes , the poet will be discontented even in the streets of heaven .  The poet is always in revolt .  ”  “ There again , ” said Syme irritably , “ what is there poetical about being in revolt ?  You might as well say that it is poetical to be sea‑sick .  Being sick is a revolt .  Both being sick and being rebellious may be the wholesome thing on certain desperate occasions ; but I’m hanged if I can see why they are poetical .  Revolt in the abstract is — revolting .  It’s mere vomiting .  ”  The girl winced for a flash at the unpleasant word , but Syme was too hot to heed her .  “ It is things going right , ” he cried , “ that is poetical !  Our digestions , for instance , going sacredly and silently right , that is the foundation of all poetry .  Yes , the most poetical thing , more poetical than the flowers , more poetical than the stars — the most poetical thing in the world is not being sick .  ”  “ Really , ” said Gregory superciliously , “ the examples you choose — ”  “ I beg your pardon , ” said Syme grimly , “ I forgot we had abolished all conventions .  ”  For the first time a red patch appeared on Gregory’s forehead .  “ You don’t expect me , ” he said , “ to revolutionise society on this lawn ?  ”  Syme looked straight into his eyes and smiled sweetly .  “ No , I don’t , ” he said ; “ but I suppose that if you were serious about your anarchism , that is exactly what you would do .  ”  Gregory’s big bull’s eyes blinked suddenly like those of an angry lion , and one could almost fancy that his red mane rose .  “ Don’t you think , then , ” he said in a dangerous voice , “ that I am serious about my anarchism ?  ”  “ I beg your pardon ?  ” said Syme .  “ Am I not serious about my anarchism ?  ” cried Gregory , with knotted fists .  “ My dear fellow !  ” said Syme , and strolled away .  With surprise , but with a curious pleasure , he found Rosamond Gregory still in his company .  “ Mr. Syme , ” she said , “ do the people who talk like you and my brother often mean what they say ?  Do you mean what you say now ?  ”  Syme smiled .  “ Do you ?  ” he asked .  “ What do you mean ?  ” asked the girl , with grave eyes .  “ My dear Miss Gregory , ” said Syme gently , “ there are many kinds of sincerity and insincerity .  When you say ‘thank you’ for the salt , do you mean what you say ?  No. When you say ‘the world is round , ’ do you mean what you say ?  No. It is true , but you don’t mean it .  Now , sometimes a man like your brother really finds a thing he does mean .  It may be only a half‑truth , quarter‑truth , tenth‑truth ; but then he says more than he means — from sheer force of meaning it .  ”  She was looking at him from under level brows ; her face was grave and open , and there had fallen upon it the shadow of that unreasoning responsibility which is at the bottom of the most frivolous woman , the maternal watch which is as old as the world .  “ Is he really an anarchist , then ?  ” she asked .  “ Only in that sense I speak of , ” replied Syme ; “ or if you prefer it , in that nonsense .  ”  She drew her broad brows together and said abruptly —  “ He wouldn’t really use — bombs or that sort of thing ?  ”  Syme broke into a great laugh , that seemed too large for his slight and somewhat dandified figure .  “ Good Lord , no !  ” he said , “ that has to be done anonymously .  ”  And at that the corners of her own mouth broke into a smile , and she thought with a simultaneous pleasure of Gregory’s absurdity and of his safety .  Syme strolled with her to a seat in the corner of the garden , and continued to pour out his opinions .  For he was a sincere man , and in spite of his superficial airs and graces , at root a humble one .  And it is always the humble man who talks too much ; the proud man watches himself too closely .  He defended respectability with violence and exaggeration .  He grew passionate in his praise of tidiness and propriety .  All the time there was a smell of lilac all round him .  Once he heard very faintly in some distant street a barrel‑organ begin to play , and it seemed to him that his heroic words were moving to a tiny tune from under or beyond the world .  He stared and talked at the girl’s red hair and amused face for what seemed to be a few minutes ; and then , feeling that the groups in such a place should mix , rose to his feet .  To his astonishment , he discovered the whole garden empty .  Everyone had gone long ago , and he went himself with a rather hurried apology .  He left with a sense of champagne in his head , which he could not afterwards explain .  In the wild events which were to follow this girl had no part at all ; he never saw her again until all his tale was over .  And yet , in some indescribable way , she kept recurring like a motive in music through all his mad adventures afterwards , and the glory of her strange hair ran like a red thread through those dark and ill‑drawn tapestries of the night .  For what followed was so improbable , that it might well have been a dream .  When Syme went out into the starlit street , he found it for the moment empty .  Then he realised ( in some odd way ) that the silence was rather a living silence than a dead one .  Directly outside the door stood a street lamp , whose gleam gilded the leaves of the tree that bent out over the fence behind him .  About a foot from the lamp‑post stood a figure almost as rigid and motionless as the lamp‑post itself .  The tall hat and long frock coat were black ; the face , in an abrupt shadow , was almost as dark .  Only a fringe of fiery hair against the light , and also something aggressive in the attitude , proclaimed that it was the poet Gregory .  He had something of the look of a masked bravo waiting sword in hand for his foe .  He made a sort of doubtful salute , which Syme somewhat more formally returned .  “ I was waiting for you , ” said Gregory .  “ Might I have a moment’s conversation ?  ”  “ Certainly .  About what ?  ” asked Syme in a sort of weak wonder .  Gregory struck out with his stick at the lamp‑post , and then at the tree .  “ About this and this , ” he cried ; “ about order and anarchy .  There is your precious order , that lean , iron lamp , ugly and barren ; and there is anarchy , rich , living , reproducing itself — there is anarchy , splendid in green and gold .  ”  “ All the same , ” replied Syme patiently , “ just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp .  I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree .  ” Then after a pause he said , “ But may I ask if you have been standing out here in the dark only to resume our little argument ?  ”  “ No , ” cried out Gregory , in a voice that rang down the street , “ I did not stand here to resume our argument , but to end it for ever .  ”  The silence fell again , and Syme , though he understood nothing , listened instinctively for something serious .  Gregory began in a smooth voice and with a rather bewildering smile .  “ Mr. Syme , ” he said , “ this evening you succeeded in doing something rather remarkable .  You did something to me that no man born of woman has ever succeeded in doing before .  ”  “ Indeed !  ”  “ Now I remember , ” resumed Gregory reflectively , “ one other person succeeded in doing it .  The captain of a penny steamer ( if I remember correctly ) at Southend .  You have irritated me .  ”  “ I am very sorry , ” replied Syme with gravity .  “ I am afraid my fury and your insult are too shocking to be wiped out even with an apology , ” said Gregory very calmly .  “ No duel could wipe it out .  If I struck you dead I could not wipe it out .  There is only one way by which that insult can be erased , and that way I choose .  I am going , at the possible sacrifice of my life and honour , to prove to you that you were wrong in what you said .  ”  “ In what I said ?  ”  “ You said I was not serious about being an anarchist .  ”  “ There are degrees of seriousness , ” replied Syme .  “ I have never doubted that you were perfectly sincere in this sense , that you thought what you said well worth saying , that you thought a paradox might wake men up to a neglected truth .  ”  Gregory stared at him steadily and painfully .  “ And in no other sense , ” he asked , “ you think me serious ?  You think me a flâneur who lets fall occasional truths .  You do not think that in a deeper , a more deadly sense , I am serious .  ”  Syme struck his stick violently on the stones of the road .  “ Serious !  ” he cried .  “ Good Lord !  is this street serious ?  Are these damned Chinese lanterns serious ?  Is the whole caboodle serious ?  One comes here and talks a pack of bosh , and perhaps some sense as well , but I should think very little of a man who didn’t keep something in the background of his life that was more serious than all this talking — something more serious , whether it was religion or only drink .  ”  “ Very well , ” said Gregory , his face darkening , “ you shall see something more serious than either drink or religion .  ”  Syme stood waiting with his usual air of mildness until Gregory again opened his lips .  “ You spoke just now of having a religion .  Is it really true that you have one ?  ”  “ Oh , ” said Syme with a beaming smile , “ we are all Catholics now .  ”  “ Then may I ask you to swear by whatever gods or saints your religion involves that you will not reveal what I am now going to tell you to any son of Adam , and especially not to the police ?  Will you swear that !  If you will take upon yourself this awful abnegations if you will consent to burden your soul with a vow that you should never make and a knowledge you should never dream about , I will promise you in return — ”  “ You will promise me in return ?  ” inquired Syme , as the other paused .  “ I will promise you a very entertaining evening .  ” Syme suddenly took off his hat .  “ Your offer , ” he said , “ is far too idiotic to be declined .  You say that a poet is always an anarchist .  I disagree ; but I hope at least that he is always a sportsman .  Permit me , here and now , to swear as a Christian , and promise as a good comrade and a fellow‑artist , that I will not report anything of this , whatever it is , to the police .  And now , in the name of Colney Hatch , what is it ?  ”  “ I think , ” said Gregory , with placid irrelevancy , “ that we will call a cab .  ”  He gave two long whistles , and a hansom came rattling down the road .  The two got into it in silence .  Gregory gave through the trap the address of an obscure public‑house on the Chiswick bank of the river .  The cab whisked itself away again , and in it these two fantastics quitted their fantastic town .  CHAPTER II  THE SECRET OF GABRIEL SYME  THE cab pulled up before a particularly dreary and greasy beershop , into which Gregory rapidly conducted his companion .  They seated themselves in a close and dim sort of bar‑parlour , at a stained wooden table with one wooden leg .  The room was so small and dark , that very little could be seen of the attendant who was summoned , beyond a vague and dark impression of something bulky and bearded .  “ Will you take a little supper ?  ” asked Gregory politely .  “ The pâté de foie gras is not good here , but I can recommend the game .  ”  Syme received the remark with stolidity , imagining it to be a joke .  Accepting the vein of humour , he said , with a well‑bred indifference —  “ Oh , bring me some lobster mayonnaise .  ”  To his indescribable astonishment , the man only said “ Certainly , sir !  ” and went away apparently to get it .  “ What will you drink ?  ” resumed Gregory , with the same careless yet apologetic air .  “ I shall only have a crême de menthe myself ; I have dined .  But the champagne can really be trusted .  Do let me start you with a half‑bottle of Pommery at least ?  ”  “ Thank you !  ” said the motionless Syme .  “ You are very good .  ”  His further attempts at conversation , somewhat disorganised in themselves , were cut short finally as by a thunderbolt by the actual appearance of the lobster .  Syme tasted it , and found it particularly good .  Then he suddenly began to eat with great rapidity and appetite .  “ Excuse me if I enjoy myself rather obviously !  ” he said to Gregory , smiling .  “ I don’t often have the luck to have a dream like this .  It is new to me for a nightmare to lead to a lobster .  It is commonly the other way .  ”  “ You are not asleep , I assure you , ” said Gregory .  “ You are , on the contrary , close to the most actual and rousing moment of your existence .  Ah , here comes your champagne !  I admit that there may be a slight disproportion , let us say , between the inner arrangements of this excellent hotel and its simple and unpretentious exterior .  But that is all our modesty .  We are the most modest men that ever lived on earth .  ”  “ And who are we ?  ” asked Syme , emptying his champagne glass .  “ It is quite simple , ” replied Gregory .  ” We are the serious anarchists , in whom you do not believe .  ”  “ Oh !  ” said Syme shortly .  “ You do yourselves well in drinks .  ”  “ Yes , we are serious about everything , ” answered Gregory .  Then after a pause he added —  “ If in a few moments this table begins to turn round a little , don’t put it down to your inroads into the champagne .  I don’t wish you to do yourself an injustice .  ”  “ Well , if I am not drunk , I am mad , ” replied Syme with perfect calm ; “ but I trust I can behave like a gentleman in either condition .  May I smoke ?  ”  “ Certainly !  ” said Gregory , producing a cigar‑case .  “ Try one of mine .  ”  Syme took the cigar , clipped the end off with a cigar-cutter out of his waistcoat pocket , put it in his mouth , lit it slowly , and let out a long cloud of smoke .  It is not a little to his credit that he performed these rites with so much composure , for almost before he had begun them the table at which he sat had begun to revolve , first slowly , and then rapidly , as if at an insane séance .  “ You must not mind it , ” said Gregory ; “ it’s a kind of screw .  ”  “ Quite so , ” said Syme placidly , “ a kind of screw .  How simple that is !  ”  The next moment the smoke of his cigar , which had been wavering across the room in snaky twists , went straight up as if from a factory chimney , and the two , with their chairs and table , shot down through the floor as if the earth had swallowed them .  They went rattling down a kind of roaring chimney as rapidly as a lift cut loose , and they came with an abrupt bump to the bottom .  But when Gregory threw open a pair of doors and let in a red subterranean light , Syme was still smoking with one leg thrown over the other , and had not turned a yellow hair .  Gregory led him down a low , vaulted passage , at the end of which was the red light .  It was an enormous crimson lantern , nearly as big as a fireplace , fixed over a small but heavy iron door .  In the door there was a sort of hatchway or grating , and on this Gregory struck five times .  A heavy voice with a foreign accent asked him who he was .  To this he gave the more or less unexpected reply , “ Mr. Joseph Chamberlain .  ” The heavy hinges began to move ; it was obviously some kind of password .  Inside the doorway the passage gleamed as if it were lined with a network of steel .  On a second glance , Syme saw that the glittering pattern was really made up of ranks and ranks of rifles and revolvers , closely packed or interlocked .  “ I must ask you to forgive me all these formalities , ” said Gregory ; “ we have to be very strict here .  ”  “ Oh , don’t apologise , ” said Syme .  “ I know your passion for law and order , ” and he stepped into the passage lined with the steel weapons .  With his long , fair hair and rather foppish frock‑coat , he looked a singularly frail and fanciful figure as he walked down that shining avenue of death .  They passed through several such passages , and came out at last into a queer steel chamber with curved walls , almost spherical in shape , but presenting , with its tiers of benches , something of the appearance of a scientific lecture-theatre .  There were no rifles or pistols in this apartment , but round the walls of it were hung more dubious and dreadful shapes , things that looked like the bulbs of iron plants , or the eggs of iron birds .  They were bombs , and the very room itself seemed like the inside of a bomb .  Syme knocked his cigar ash off against the wall , and went in .  “ And now , my dear Mr. Syme , ” said Gregory , throwing himself in an expansive manner on the bench under the largest bomb , “ now we are quite cosy , so let us talk properly .  Now no human words can give you any notion of why I brought you here .  It was one of those quite arbitrary emotions , like jumping off a cliff or falling in love .  Suffice it to say that you were an inexpressibly irritating fellow , and , to do you justice , you are still .  I would break twenty oaths of secrecy for the pleasure of taking you down a peg .  That way you have of lighting a cigar would make a priest break the seal of confession .  Well , you said that you were quite certain I was not a serious anarchist .  Does this place strike you as being serious ?  ”  “ It does seem to have a moral under all its gaiety , ” assented Syme ; “ but may I ask you two questions ?  You need not fear to give me information , because , as you remember , you very wisely extorted from me a promise not to tell the police , a promise I shall certainly keep .  So it is in mere curiosity that I make my queries .  First of all , what is it really all about ?  What is it you object to ?  You want to abolish Government ?  ”  “ To abolish God !  ” said Gregory , opening the eyes of a fanatic .  “ We do not only want to upset a few despotisms and police regulations ; that sort of anarchism does exist , but it is a mere branch of the Nonconformists .  We dig deeper and we blow you higher .  We wish to deny all those arbitrary distinctions of vice and virtue , honour and treachery , upon which mere rebels base themselves .  The silly sentimentalists of the French Revolution talked of the Rights of Man !  We hate Rights as we hate Wrongs .  We have abolished Right and Wrong .  ”  “ And Right and Left , ” said Syme with a simple eagerness , “ I hope you will abolish them too .  They are much more troublesome to me .  ”  “ You spoke of a second question , ” snapped Gregory .  “ With pleasure , ” resumed Syme .  “ In all your present acts and surroundings there is a scientific attempt at secrecy .  I have an aunt who lived over a shop , but this is the first time I have found people living from preference under a public‑house .  You have a heavy iron door .  You cannot pass it without submitting to the humiliation of calling yourself Mr. Chamberlain .  You surround yourself with steel instruments which make the place , if I may say so , more impressive than homelike .  May I ask why , after taking all this trouble to barricade yourselves in the bowels of the earth , you then parade your whole secret by talking about anarchism to every silly woman in Saffron Park ?  ”  Gregory smiled .  “ The answer is simple , ” he said .  “ I told you I was a serious anarchist , and you did not believe me .  Nor do they believe me .  Unless I took them into this infernal room they would not believe me .  ”  Syme smoked thoughtfully , and looked at him with interest .  Gregory went on .  “ The history of the thing might amuse you , ” he said .  “ When first I became one of the New Anarchists I tried all kinds of respectable disguises .  I dressed up as a bishop .  I read up all about bishops in our anarchist pamphlets , in Superstition the Vampire and Priests of Prey .  I certainly understood from them that bishops are strange and terrible old men keeping a cruel secret from mankind .  I was misinformed .  When on my first appearing in episcopal gaiters in a drawing‑room I cried out in a voice of thunder , ‘Down !  down !  presumptuous human reason !  ’ they found out in some way that I was not a bishop at all .  I was nabbed at once .  Then I made up as a millionaire ; but I defended Capital with so much intelligence that a fool could see that I was quite poor .  Then I tried being a major .  Now I am a humanitarian myself , but I have , I hope , enough intellectual breadth to understand the position of those who , like Nietzsche , admire violence — the proud , mad war of Nature and all that , you know .  I threw myself into the major .  I drew my sword and waved it constantly .  I called out ‘Blood !  ’ abstractedly , like a man calling for wine .  I often said , ‘Let the weak perish ; it is the Law.’ Well , well , it seems majors don’t do this .  I was nabbed again .  At last I went in despair to the President of the Central Anarchist Council , who is the greatest man in Europe .  ”  “ What is his name ?  ” asked Syme .  “ You would not know it , ” answered Gregory .  “ That is his greatness .  Caesar and Napoleon put all their genius into being heard of , and they were heard of .  He puts all his genius into not being heard of , and he is not heard of .  But you cannot be for five minutes in the room with him without feeling that Caesar and Napoleon would have been children in his hands .  ”  He was silent and even pale for a moment , and then resumed —  “ But whenever he gives advice it is always something as startling as an epigram , and yet as practical as the Bank of England .  I said to him , ‘What disguise will hide me from the world ?  What can I find more respectable than bishops and majors ?  ’ He looked at me with his large but indecipherable face .  ‘You want a safe disguise , do you ?  You want a dress which will guarantee you harmless ; a dress in which no one would ever look for a bomb ?  ’ I nodded .  He suddenly lifted his lion’s voice .  ‘Why , then , dress up as an anarchist , you fool !  ’ he roared so that the room shook .  ‘Nobody will ever expect you to do anything dangerous then.’ And he turned his broad back on me without another word .  I took his advice , and have never regretted it .  I preached blood and murder to those women day and night , and — by God !  — they would let me wheel their perambulators .  ”  Syme sat watching him with some respect in his large , blue eyes .  “ You took me in , ” he said .  “ It is really a smart dodge .  ”  Then after a pause he added —  “ What do you call this tremendous President of yours ?  ”  “ We generally call him Sunday , ” replied Gregory with simplicity .  ‘You see , there are seven members of the Central Anarchist Council , and they are named after days of the week .  He is called Sunday , by some of his admirers Bloody Sunday .  It is curious you should mention the matter , because the very night you have dropped in ( if I may so express it ) is the night on which our London branch , which assembles in this room , has to elect its own deputy to fill a vacancy in the Council .  The gentleman who has for some time past played , with propriety and general applause , the difficult part of Thursday , has died quite suddenly .  Consequently , we have called a meeting this very evening to elect a successor .  ”  He got to his feet and strolled across the room with a sort of smiling embarrassment .  “ I feel somehow as if you were my mother , Syme , ” he continued casually .  “ I feel that I can confide anything to you , as you have promised to tell nobody .  In fact , I will confide to you something that I would not say in so many words to the anarchists who will be coming to the room in about ten minutes .  We shall , of course , go through a form of election ; but I don’t mind telling you that it is practically certain what the result will be .  ” He looked down for a moment modestly .  “ It is almost a settled thing that I am to be Thursday .  ”  “ My dear fellow .  ” said Syme heartily , “ I congratulate you .  A great career !  ”  Gregory smiled in deprecation , and walked across the room , talking rapidly .  “ As a matter of fact , everything is ready for me on this table , ” he said , “ and the ceremony will probably be the shortest possible .  ”  Syme also strolled across to the table , and found lying across it a walking‑stick , which turned out on examination to be a sword‑stick , a large Colt’s revolver , a sandwich case , and a formidable flask of brandy .  Over the chair , beside the table , was thrown a heavy‑looking cape or cloak .  “ I have only to get the form of election finished , ” continued Gregory with animation , “ then I snatch up this cloak and stick , stuff these other things into my pocket , step out of a door in this cavern , which opens on the river , where there is a steam‑tug already waiting for me , and then — then — oh , the wild joy of being Thursday !  ” And he clasped his hands .  Syme , who had sat down once more with his usual insolent languor , got to his feet with an unusual air of hesitation .  “ Why is it , ” he asked vaguely , “ that I think you are quite a decent fellow ?  Why do I positively like you , Gregory ?  ” He paused a moment , and then added with a sort of fresh curiosity , “ Is it because you are such an ass ?  ”  There was a thoughtful silence again , and then he cried out —  “ Well , damn it all !  this is the funniest situation I have ever been in in my life , and I am going to act accordingly .  Gregory , I gave you a promise before I came into this place .  That promise I would keep under red‑hot pincers .  Would you give me , for my own safety , a little promise of the same kind ?  ”  “ A promise ?  ” asked Gregory , wondering .  “ Yes , ” said Syme very seriously , “ a promise .  I swore before God that I would not tell your secret to the police .  Will you swear by Humanity , or whatever beastly thing you believe in , that you will not tell my secret to the anarchists ?  ”  “ Your secret ?  ” asked the staring Gregory .  “ Have you got a secret ?  ”  “ Yes , ” said Syme , “ I have a secret .  ” Then after a pause , “ Will you swear ?  ”  Gregory glared at him gravely for a few moments , and then said abruptly —  “ You must have bewitched me , but I feel a furious curiosity about you .  Yes , I will swear not to tell the anarchists anything you tell me .  But look sharp , for they will be here in a couple of minutes .  ”  Syme rose slowly to his feet and thrust his long , white hands into his long , grey trousers’ pockets .  Almost as he did so there came five knocks on the outer grating , proclaiming the arrival of the first of the conspirators .  “ Well , ” said Syme slowly , “ I don’t know how to tell you the truth more shortly than by saying that your expedient of dressing up as an aimless poet is not confined to you or your President .  We have known the dodge for some time at Scotland Yard .  ”  Gregory tried to spring up straight , but he swayed thrice .  “ What do you say ?  ” he asked in an inhuman voice .  “ Yes , ” said Syme simply , “ I am a police detective .  But I think I hear your friends coming .  ”  From the doorway there came a murmur of “ Mr. Joseph Chamberlain .  ” It was repeated twice and thrice , and then thirty times , and the crowd of Joseph Chamberlains ( a solemn thought ) could be heard trampling down the corridor .  CHAPTER III  THE MAN WHO WAS THURSDAY  BEFORE one of the fresh faces could appear at the doorway , Gregory’s stunned surprise had fallen from him .  He was beside the table with a bound , and a noise in his throat like a wild beast .  He caught up the Colt’s revolver and took aim at Syme .  Syme did not flinch , but he put up a pale and polite hand .  “ Don’t be such a silly man , ” he said , with the effeminate dignity of a curate .  “ Don’t you see it’s not necessary ?  Don’t you see that we’re both in the same boat ?  Yes , and jolly sea‑sick .  ”  Gregory could not speak , but he could not fire either , and he looked his question .  “ Don’t you see we’ve checkmated each other ?  ” cried Syme .  “ I can’t tell the police you are an anarchist .  You can’t tell the anarchists I’m a policeman .  I can only watch you , knowing what you are ; you can only watch me , knowing what I am .  In short , it’s a lonely , intellectual duel , my head against yours .  I’m a policeman deprived of the help of the police .  You , my poor fellow , are an anarchist deprived of the help of that law and organisation which is so essential to anarchy .  The one solitary difference is in your favour .  You are not surrounded by inquisitive policemen ; I am surrounded by inquisitive anarchists .  I cannot betray you , but I might betray myself .  Come , come !  wait and see me betray myself .  I shall do it so nicely .  ”  Gregory put the pistol slowly down , still staring at Syme as if he were a sea-monster .  “ I don’t believe in immortality , ” he said at last , “ but if , after all this , you were to break your word , God would make a hell only for you , to howl in for ever .  ”  “ I shall not break my word , ” said Syme sternly , “ nor will you break yours .  Here are your friends .  ”  The mass of the anarchists entered the room heavily , with a slouching and somewhat weary gait ; but one little man , with a black beard and glasses — a man somewhat of the type of Mr. Tim Healy — detached himself , and bustled forward with some papers in his hand .  “ Comrade Gregory , ” he said , “ I suppose this man is a delegate ?  ”  Gregory , taken by surprise , looked down and muttered the name of Syme ; but Syme replied almost pertly —  “ I am glad to see that your gate is well enough guarded to make it hard for anyone to be here who was not a delegate .  ”  The brow of the little man with the black beard was , however , still contracted with something like suspicion .  “ What branch do you represent ?  ” he asked sharply .  “ I should hardly call it a branch , ” said Syme , laughing ; “ I should call it at the very least a root .  ”  “ What do you mean ?  ”  “ The fact is , ” said Syme serenely , “ the truth is I am a Sabbatarian .  I have been specially sent here to see that you show a due observance of Sunday .  ”  The little man dropped one of his papers , and a flicker of fear went over all the faces of the group .  Evidently the awful President , whose name was Sunday , did sometimes send down such irregular ambassadors to such branch meetings .  “ Well , comrade , ” said the man with the papers after a pause , “ I suppose we’d better give you a seat in the meeting ?  ”  “ If you ask my advice as a friend , ” said Syme with severe benevolence , “ I think you’d better .  ”  When Gregory heard the dangerous dialogue end , with a sudden safety for his rival , he rose abruptly and paced the floor in painful thought .  He was , indeed , in an agony of diplomacy .  It was clear that Syme’s inspired impudence was likely to bring him out of all merely accidental dilemmas .  Little was to be hoped from them .  He could not himself betray Syme , partly from honour , but partly also because , if he betrayed him and for some reason failed to destroy him , the Syme who escaped would be a Syme freed from all obligation of secrecy , a Syme who would simply walk to the nearest police station .  After all , it was only one night’s discussion , and only one detective who would know of it .  He would let out as little as possible of their plans that night , and then let Syme go , and chance it .  He strode across to the group of anarchists , which was already distributing itself along the benches .  “ I think it is time we began , ” he said ; “ the steam‑tug is waiting on the river already .  I move that Comrade Buttons takes the chair .  ”  This being approved by a show of hands , the little man with the papers slipped into the presidential seat .  “ Comrades , ” he began , as sharp as a pistol‑shot , “ our meeting to‑night is important , though it need not be long .  This branch has always had the honour of electing Thursdays for the Central European Council .  We have elected many and splendid Thursdays .  We all lament the sad decease of the heroic worker who occupied the post until last week .  As you know , his services to the cause were considerable .  He organised the great dynamite coup of Brighton which , under happier circumstances , ought to have killed everybody on the pier .  As you also know , his death was as self-denying as his life , for he died through his faith in a hygienic mixture of chalk and water as a substitute for milk , which beverage he regarded as barbaric , and as involving cruelty to the cow .  Cruelty , or anything approaching to cruelty , revolted him always .  But it is not to acclaim his virtues that we are met , but for a harder task .  It is difficult properly to praise his qualities , but it is more difficult to replace them .  Upon you , comrades , it devolves this evening to choose out of the company present the man who shall be Thursday .  If any comrade suggests a name I will put it to the vote .  If no comrade suggests a name , I can only tell myself that that dear dynamiter , who is gone from us , has carried into the unknowable abysses the last secret of his virtue and his innocence .  ”  There was a stir of almost inaudible applause , such as is sometimes heard in church .  Then a large old man , with a long and venerable white beard , perhaps the only real working‑man present , rose lumberingly and said —  “ I move that Comrade Gregory be elected Thursday , ” and sat lumberingly down again .  “ Does anyone second ?  ” asked the chairman .  A little man with a velvet coat and pointed beard seconded .  “ Before I put the matter to the vote , ” said the chairman , “ I will call on Comrade Gregory to make a statement .  ”  Gregory rose amid a great rumble of applause .  His face was deadly pale , so that by contrast his queer red hair looked almost scarlet .  But he was smiling and altogether at ease .  He had made up his mind , and he saw his best policy quite plain in front of him like a white road .  His best chance was to make a softened and ambiguous speech , such as would leave on the detective’s mind the impression that the anarchist brotherhood was a very mild affair after all .  He believed in his own literary power , his capacity for suggesting fine shades and picking perfect words .  He thought that with care he could succeed , in spite of all the people around him , in conveying an impression of the institution , subtly and delicately false .  Syme had once thought that anarchists , under all their bravado , were only playing the fool .  Could he not now , in the hour of peril , make Syme think so again ?  “ Comrades , ” began Gregory , in a low but penetrating voice , “ it is not necessary for me to tell you what is my policy , for it is your policy also .  Our belief has been slandered , it has been disfigured , it has been utterly confused and concealed , but it has never been altered .  Those who talk about anarchism and its dangers go everywhere and anywhere to get their information , except to us , except to the fountain head .  They learn about anarchists from sixpenny novels ; they learn about anarchists from tradesmen’s newspapers ; they learn about anarchists from Ally Sloper’s Half‑Holiday and the Sporting Times .  They never learn about anarchists from anarchists .  We have no chance of denying the mountainous slanders which are heaped upon our heads from one end of Europe to another .  The man who has always heard that we are walking plagues has never heard our reply .  I know that he will not hear it to­night , though my passion were to rend the roof .  For it is deep , deep under the earth that the persecuted are permitted to assemble , as the Christians assembled in the Catacombs .  But if , by some incredible accident , there were here to‑night a man who all his life had thus immensely misunderstood us , I would put this question to him : ‘When those Christians met in those Catacombs , what sort of moral reputation had they in the streets above ?  What tales were told of their atrocities by one educated Roman to another ?  Suppose’ ( I would say to him ) , ‘suppose that we are only repeating that still mysterious paradox of history .  Suppose we seem as shocking as the Christians because we are really as harmless as the Christians .  Suppose we seem as mad as the Christians because we are really as meek .  ” ’  The applause that had greeted the opening sentences had been gradually growing fainter , and at the last word it stopped suddenly .  In the abrupt silence , the man with the velvet jacket said , in a high , squeaky voice —  “ I’m not meek !  ”  “ Comrade Witherspoon tells us , ” resumed Gregory , “ that he is not meek .  Ah , how little he knows himself !  His words are , indeed , extravagant ; his appearance is ferocious , and even ( to an ordinary taste ) unattractive .  But only the eye of a friendship as deep and delicate as mine can perceive the deep foundation of solid meekness which lies at the base of him , too deep even for himself to see .  I repeat , we are the true early Christians , only that we come too late .  We are simple , as they revere simple — look at Comrade Witherspoon .  We are modest , as they were modest — look at me .  We are merciful — ”  “ No , no !  ” called out Mr. Witherspoon with the velvet jacket .  “ I say we are merciful , ” repeated Gregory furiously , “ as the early Christians were merciful .  Yet this did not prevent their being accused of eating human flesh .  We do not eat human flesh — ”  “ Shame !  ” cried Witherspoon .  “ Why not ?  ”  “ Comrade Witherspoon , ” said Gregory , with a feverish gaiety , “ is anxious to know why nobody eats him ( laughter ) .  In our society , at any rate , which loves him sincerely , which is founded upon love — ”  “ No , no !  ” said Witherspoon , “ down with love .  ”  “ Which is founded upon love , ” repeated Gregory , grinding his teeth , “ there will be no difficulty about the aims which we shall pursue as a body , or which I should pursue were I chosen as the representative of that body .  Superbly careless of the slanders that represent us as assassins and enemies of human society , we shall pursue with moral courage and quiet intellectual pressure , the permanent ideals of brotherhood and simplicity .  ”  Gregory resumed his seat and passed his hand across his forehead .  The silence was sudden and awkward , but the chairman rose like an automaton , and said in a colourless voice —  “ Does anyone oppose the election of Comrade Gregory ?  ”  The assembly seemed vague and sub‑consciously disappointed , and Comrade Witherspoon moved restlessly on his seat and muttered in his thick beard .  By the sheer rush of routine , however , the motion would have been put and carried .  But as the chairman was opening his mouth to put it , Syme sprang to his feet and said in a small and quiet voice —  “ Yes , Mr. Chairman , I oppose .  ”  The most effective fact in oratory is an unexpected change in the voice .  Mr. Gabriel Syme evidently understood oratory .  Having said these first formal words in a moderated tone and with a brief simplicity , he made his next word ring and volley in the vault as if one of the guns had gone off .  “ Comrades !  ” he cried , in a voice that made every man jump out of his boots , “ have we come here for this ?  Do we live underground like rats in order to listen to talk like this ?  This is talk we might listen to while eating buns at a Sunday School treat .  Do we line these walls with weapons and bar that door with death lest anyone should come and hear Comrade Gregory saying to us , ‘Be good , and you will be happy , ’ ‘Honesty is the best policy , ’ and ‘Virtue is its own reward’ ?  There was not a word in Comrade Gregory’s address to which a curate could not have listened with pleasure ( hear , hear ) .  But I am not a curate ( loud cheers ) , and I did not listen to it with pleasure ( renewed cheers ) .  The man who is fitted to make a good curate is not fitted to make a resolute , forcible , and efficient Thursday ( hear , hear ) .  ”  “ Comrade Gregory has told us , in only too apologetic a tone , that we are not the enemies of society .  But I say that we are the enemies of society , and so much the worse for society .  We are the enemies of society , for society is the enemy of humanity , its oldest and its most pitiless enemy ( hear , hear ) .  Comrade Gregory has told us ( apologetically again ) that we are not murderers .  There I agree .  We are not murderers , we are executioners ( cheers ) .  ”  Ever since Syme had risen Gregory had sat staring at him , his face idiotic with astonishment .  Now in the pause his lips of clay parted , and he said , with an automatic and lifeless distinctness —  “ You damnable hypocrite !  ”  Syme looked straight into those frightful eyes with his own pale blue ones , and said with dignity —  “ Comrade Gregory accuses me of hypocrisy .  He knows as well as I do that I am keeping all my engagements and doing nothing but my duty .  I do not mince words .  I do not pretend to .  I say that Comrade Gregory is unfit to be Thursday for all his amiable qualities .  He is unfit to be Thursday because of his amiable qualities .  We do not want the Supreme Council of Anarchy in­fected with a maudlin mercy ( hear , hear ) .  This is no time for ceremonial politeness , neither is it a time for ceremonial modesty .  I set myself against Comrade Gregory as I would set myself against all the Governments of Europe , because the anarchist who has given himself to anarchy has forgotten modesty as much as he has forgotten pride ( cheers ) .  I am not a man at all .  I am a cause ( renewed cheers ) .  I set myself against Comrade Gregory as impersonally and as calmly as I should choose one pistol rather than another out of that rack upon the wall ; and I say that rather than have Gregory and his milk‑and‑water methods on the Supreme Council , I would offer myself for election — ”  His sentence was drowned in a deafening cataract of applause .  The faces , that had grown fiercer and fiercer with approval as his tirade grew more and more uncompromising , were now distorted with grins of anticipa­tion or cloven with delighted cries .  At the moment when he announced himself as ready to stand for the post of Thursday , a roar of excitement and assent broke forth , and became uncontrollable , and at the same moment Gregory sprang to his feet , with foam upon his mouth , and shouted against the shouting .  “ Stop , you blasted madmen !  ” he cried , at the top of a voice that tore his throat .  “ Stop , you — ”  But louder than Gregory’s shouting and louder than the roar of the room came the voice of Syme , still speaking in a peal of pitiless thunder —  “ I do not go to the Council to rebut that slander that calls us murderers ; I go to earn it ( loud and prolonged cheering ) .  To the priest who says these men are the enemies of religion , to the judge who says these men are the enemies of law , to the fat parliamentarian who says these men are the enemies of order and public decency , to all these I will reply , ‘You are false kings , but you are true prophets .  I am come to destroy you , and to fulfil your prophecies.’ ”  The heavy clamour gradually died away , but before it had ceased Witherspoon had jumped to his feet , his hair and beard all on end , and had said —  “ I move , as an amendment , that Comrade Syme be appointed to the post .  ”  “ Stop all this , I tell you !  ” cried Gregory , with frantic face and hands .  “ Stop it , it is all — ”  The voice of the chairman clove his speech with a cold accent .  “ Does anyone second this amendment ?  ” he said .  A tall , tired man , with melancholy eyes and an American chin beard , was observed on the back bench to be slowly rising to his feet .  Gregory had been screaming for some time past ; now there was a change in his accent , more shocking than any scream .  “ I end all this !  ” he said , in a voice as heavy as stone .  “ This man cannot be elected .  He is a — ”  “ Yes , ” said Syme , quite motionless , “ what is he ?  ” Gregory’s mouth worked twice without sound ; then slowly the blood began to crawl back into his dead face .  “ He is a man quite inexperienced in our work , ” he said , and sat down abruptly .  Before he had done so , the long , lean man with the American beard was again upon his feet , and was repeating in a high American monotone —  “ I beg to second the election of Comrade Syme .  ”  “ The amendment will , as usual , be put first , ” said Mr. Buttons , the chairman , with mechanical rapidity .  “ The question is that Comrade Syme — ”  Gregory had again sprung to his feet , panting and passionate .  “ Comrades , ” he cried out , “ I am not a madman .  ”  “ Oh , oh !  ” said Mr. Witherspoon .  “ I am not a madman , ” reiterated Gregory , with a frightful sincerity which for a moment staggered the room , “ but I give you a counsel which you can call mad if you like .  No , I will not call it a counsel , for I can give you no reason for it .  I will call it a command .  Call it a mad command , but act upon it .  Strike , but hear me !  Kill me , but obey me !  Do not elect this man .  ” Truth is so terrible , even in fetters , that for a moment Syme’s slender and insane victory swayed like a reed .  But you could not have guessed it from Syme’s bleak blue eyes .  He merely began —  “ Comrade Gregory commands — ”  Then the spell was snapped , and one anarchist called out to Gregory —  “ Who are you ?  You are not Sunday ” ; and another anarchist added in a heavier voice , “ And you are not Thursday .  ”  “ Comrades , ” cried Gregory , in a voice like that of a martyr who in an ecstacy of pain has passed beyond pain , “ it is nothing to me whether you detest me as a tyrant or detest me as a slave .  If you will not take my command , accept my degradation .  I kneel to you .  I throw myself at your feet .  I implore you .  Do not elect this man .  ”  “ Comrade Gregory , ” said the chairman after a painful pause , “ this is really not quite dignified .  ”  For the first time in the proceedings there was for a few seconds a real silence .  Then Gregory fell back in his seat , a pale wreck of a man , and the chairman repeated , like a piece of clock‑work suddenly started again —  “ The question is that Comrade Syme be elected to the post of Thursday on the General Council .  ”  The roar rose like the sea , the hands rose like a forest , and three minutes afterwards Mr. Gabriel Syme , of the Secret Police Service , was elected to the post of Thursday on the General Council of the Anarchists of Europe .  Everyone in the room seemed to feel the tug waiting on the river , the sword‑stick and the revolver , waiting on the table .  The instant the election was ended and irrevocable , and Syme had received the paper proving his election , they all sprang to their feet , and the fiery groups moved and mixed in the room .  Syme found himself , somehow or other , face to face with Gregory , who still regarded him with a stare of stunned hatred .  They were silent for many minutes .  “ You are a devil !  ” said Gregory at last .  “ And you are a gentleman , ” said Syme with gravity .  “ It was you that entrapped me , ” began Gregory , shaking from head to foot , “ entrapped me into — ”  “ Talk sense , ” said Syme shortly .  “ Into what sort of devils’ parliament have you entrapped me , if it comes to that ?  You made me swear before I made you .  Perhaps we are both doing what we think right .  But what we think right is so damned different that there can be nothing between us in the way of concession .  There is nothing possible between us but honour and death , ” and he pulled the great cloak about his shoulders and picked up the flask from the table .  “ The boat is quite ready , ” said Mr. Buttons , bustling up .  “ Be good enough to step this way .  ”  With a gesture that revealed the shop-walker , he led Syme down a short , iron‑bound passage , the still agonised Gregory following feverishly at their heels .  At the end of the passage was a door , which Buttons opened sharply , showing a sudden blue and silver picture of the moonlit river , that looked like a scene in a theatre .  Close to the opening lay a dark , dwarfish steam-launch , like a baby dragon with one red eye .  Almost in the act of stepping on board , Gabriel Syme turned to the gaping Gregory .  “ You have kept your word , ” he said gently , with his face in shadow .  “ You are a man of honour , and I thank you .  You have kept it even down to a small particular .  There was one special thing you promised me at the beginning of the affair , and which you have certainly given me by the end of it .  ”  “ What do you mean ?  ” cried the chaotic Gregory .  “ What did I promise you ?  ”  “ A very entertaining evening , ” said Syme , and he made a military salute with the sword‑stick as the steamboat slid away .  CHAPTER IV  THE TALE OF A DETECTIVE  GABRIEL SYME was not merely a detective who pretended to be a poet ; he was really a poet who had become a detective .  Nor was his hatred of anarchy hypocritical .  He was one of those who are driven early in life into too conservative an attitude by the bewildering folly of most revolutionists .  He had not attained it by any tame tradition .  His respectability was spontaneous and sudden , a rebellion against rebellion .  He came of a family of cranks , in which all the oldest people had all the newest notions .  One of his uncles always walked about without a hat , and another had made an unsuccessful attempt to walk about with a hat and nothing else .  His father cultivated art and self‑realisation ; his mother went in for simplicity and hygiene .  Hence the child , during his tenderer years , was wholly unacquainted with any drink between the extremes of absinth and cocoa , of both of which he had a healthy dislike .  The more his mother preached a more than Puritan abstinence the more did his father expand into a more than pagan latitude ; and by the time the former had come to enforcing vegetarianism , the latter had pretty well reached the point of defending cannibalism .  Being surrounded with every conceivable kind of revolt from infancy , Gabriel had to revolt into something , so he revolted into the only thing left — sanity .  But there was just enough in him of the blood of these fanatics to make even his protest for common sense a little too fierce to be sensible .  His hatred of modern lawlessness had been crowned also by an accident .  It happened that he was walking in a side street at the instant of a dynamite outrage .  He had been blind and deaf for a moment , and then seen , the smoke clearing , the broken windows and the bleeding faces .  After that he went about as usual — quiet , courteous , rather gentle ; but there was a spot on his mind that was not sane .  He did not regard anarchists , as most of us do , as a handful of morbid men , combining ignorance with intellectualism .  He regarded them as a huge and pitiless peril , like a Chinese invasion .  He poured perpetually into newspapers and their waste‑paper baskets a torrent of tales , verses and violent articles , warning men of this deluge of barbaric denial .  But he seemed to be getting no nearer his enemy , and , what was worse , no nearer a living .  As he paced the Thames embankment , bitterly biting a cheap cigar and brooding on the advance of Anarchy , there was no anarchist with a bomb in his pocket so savage or so solitary as he .  Indeed , he always felt that Government stood alone and desperate , with its back to the wall .  He was too quixotic to have cared for it otherwise .  He walked on the Embankment once under a dark red sunset .  The red river reflected the red sky , and they both reflected his anger .  The sky , indeed , was so swarthy , and the light on the river relatively so lurid , that the water almost seemed of fiercer flame than the sunset it mirrored .  It looked like a stream of literal fire winding under the vast caverns of a subterranean country .  Syme was shabby in those days .  He wore an old-fashioned black chimney‑pot hat ; he was wrapped in a yet more old‑fashioned cloak , black and ragged ; and the combination gave him the look of the early villains in Dickens and Bulwer Lytton .  Also his yellow beard and hair were more unkempt and leonine than when they appeared long afterwards , cut and pointed , on the lawns of Saffron Park .  A long , lean , black cigar , bought in Soho for twopence , stood out from between his tightened teeth , and altogether he looked a very satisfactory specimen of the anarchists upon whom he had vowed a holy war .  Perhaps this was why a policeman on the Embankment spoke to him , and said “ Good evening .  ”  Syme , at a crisis of his morbid fears for humanity , seemed stung by the mere stolidity of the automatic official , a mere bulk of blue in the twilight .  “ A good evening is it ?  ” he said sharply .  “ You fellows would call the end of the world a good evening .  Look at that bloody red sun and that bloody river !  I tell you that if that were literally human blood , spilt and shining , you would still be standing here as solid as ever , looking out for some poor harmless tramp whom you could move on .  You policemen are cruel to the poor , but I could forgive you even your cruelty if it were not for your calm .  ”  “ If we are calm , ” replied the policeman , “ it is the calm of organised resistance .  ”  “ Eh ?  ” said Syme , staring .  “ The soldier must be calm in the thick of the battle , ” pursued the policeman .  “ The composure of an army is the anger of a nation .  ”  “ Good God , the Board Schools !  ” said Syme .  “ Is this undenominational education ?  ”  “ No , ” said the policeman sadly , “ I never had any of those advantages .  The Board Schools came after my time .  What education I had was very rough and old-fashioned , I am afraid .  ”  “ Where did you have it ?  ” asked Syme , wondering .  “ Oh , at Harrow , ” said the policeman  The class sympathies which , false as they are , are the truest things in so many men , broke out of Syme before he could control them .  “ But , good Lord , man , ” he said , “ you oughtn’t to be a policeman !  ”  The policeman sighed and shook his head .  “ I know , ” he said solemnly , “ I know I am not worthy .  ”  “ But why did you join the police ?  ” asked Syme with rude curiosity .  “ For much the same reason that you abused the police , ” replied the other .  “ I found that there was a special opening in the service for those whose fears for humanity were concerned rather with the aberrations of the scientific intellect than with the normal and excusable , though excessive , outbreaks of the human will .  I trust I make myself clear .  ”  “ If you mean that you make your opinion clear , ” said Syme , “ I suppose you do .  But as for making yourself clear , it is the last thing you do .  How comes a man like you to be talking philosophy in a blue helmet on the Thames embankment ?  “ You have evidently not heard of the latest develop­ment in our police system , ” replied the other .  “ I am not surprised at it .  We are keeping it rather dark from the educated class , because that class contains most of our enemies .  But you seem to be exactly in the right frame of mind .  I think you might almost join us .  ”  “ Join you in what ?  ” asked Syme .  “ I will tell you , ” said the policeman slowly .  “ This is the situation : The head of one of our departments , one of the most celebrated detectives in Europe , has long been of opinion that a purely intellectual conspiracy would soon threaten the very existence of civilisation .  He is certain that the scientific and artistic worlds are silently bound in a crusade against the Family and the State .  He has , therefore , formed a special corps of policemen , policemen who are also philosophers .  It is their business to watch the beginnings of this conspiracy , not merely in a criminal but in a controversial sense .  I am a democrat myself , and I am fully aware of the value of the ordinary man in matters of ordinary valour or virtue .  But it would obviously be undesirable to employ the common policeman in an investigation which is also a heresy hunt .  ”  Syme’s eyes were bright with a sympathetic curiosity .  “ What do you do , then ?  ” he said .  “ The work of the philosophical policeman , ” replied the man in blue , “ is at once bolder and more subtle than that of the ordinary detective .  The ordinary detective goes to pot‑houses to arrest thieves ; we go to artistic tea‑parties to detect pessimists .  The ordinary detective discovers from a ledger or a diary that a crime has been committed .  We discover from a book of sonnets that a crime will be committed .  We have to trace the origin of those dreadful thoughts that drive men on at last to intellectual fanaticism and intellectual crime .  We were only just in time to prevent the assassination at Hartle pool , and that was entirely due to the fact that our Mr. Wilks ( a smart young fellow ) thoroughly understood a triolet .  ”  “ Do you mean , ” asked Syme , “ that there is really as much connection between crime and the modern intellect as all that ?  ”  “ You are not sufficiently democratic , ” answered the policeman , “ but you were right when you said just now that our ordinary treatment of the poor criminal was a pretty brutal business .  I tell you I am sometimes sick of my trade when I see how perpetually it means merely a war upon the ignorant and the desperate .  But this new movement of ours is a very different affair .  We deny the snobbish English assumption that the uneducated are the dangerous criminals .  We remember the Roman Emperors .  We remember the great poisoning princes of the Renaissance .  We say that the dangerous criminal is the educated criminal .  We say that the most dangerous criminal now is the entirely lawless modern philosopher .  Compared to him , burglars and bigamists are essentially moral men ; my heart goes out to them .  They accept the essential ideal of man ; they merely seek it wrongly .  Thieves respect property .  They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it .  But philosophers dislike property as property ; they wish to destroy the very idea of personal possession .  Bigamists respect marriage , or they would not go through the highly ceremonial and even ritualistic formality of bigamy .  But philosophers despise marriage as marriage .  Murderers respect human life ; they merely wish to attain a greater fulness of human life in themselves by the sacrifice of what seems to them to be lesser lives .  But philosophers hate life itself , their own as much as other people’s .  ”  Syme struck his hands together .  “ How true that is , ” he cried .  “ I have felt it from my boyhood , but never could state the verbal antithesis .  The common criminal is a bad man , but at least he is , as it were , a conditional good man .  He says that if only a certain obstacle be removed — say a wealthy uncle — he is then prepared to accept the universe and to praise God .  He is a reformer , but not an anarchist .  He wishes to cleanse the edifice , but not to destroy it .  But the evil philosopher is not trying to alter things , but to annihilate them .  Yes , the modern world has retained all those parts of police work which are really oppressive and ignominious , the harrying of the poor , the spying upon the unfortunate .  It has given up its more dignified work , the punishment of powerful traitors the in the State and powerful heresiarchs in the Church .  The moderns say we must not punish heretics .  My only doubt is whether we have a right to punish anybody else .  ”  “ But this is absurd !  ” cried the policeman , clasping his hands with an excitement uncommon in persons of his figure and costume , “ but it is intolerable !  I don’t know what you’re doing , but you’re wasting your life .  You must , you shall , join our special army against anarchy .  Their armies are on our frontiers .  Their bolt is ready to fall .  A moment more , and you may lose the glory of working with us , perhaps the glory of dying with the last heroes of the world .