Somerset maughan

cher ami
. They should know that during the Middle Ages 
imagination peopled the four elements with intelligences, normally 
unseen, some of which were friendly to man and others hostile. 
They were thought to be powerful and conscious of their power, 
though at the same time they were profoundly aware that they 
possessed no soul. Their life depended upon the continuance of 
some natural object, and hence for them there could be no 
immortality. They must return eventually to the abyss of unending 
night, and the darkness of death afflicted them always. But it was 
thought that in the same manner as man by his union with God had 
won a spark of divinity, so might the sylphs, gnomes, undines, and 
salamanders by an alliance with man partake of his immortality. 
And many of their women, whose beauty was more than human, 
gained a human soul by loving one of the race of men. But the 
reverse occurred also, and often a love-sick youth lost his 
immortality because he left the haunts of his kind to dwell with the 
fair, soulless denizens of the running streams or of the forest airs.' 
'I didn't know that you spoke figuratively,' said Arthur to Oliver 
Haddo. 
The other shrugged his shoulders. 
'What else is the world than a figure? Life itself is but a symbol. You 
must be a wise man if you can tell us what is reality.' 
'When you begin to talk of magic and mysticism I confess that I am 
out of my depth.' 
'Yet magic is no more than the art of employing consciously 
invisible means to produce visible effects. Will, love, and 
imagination are magic powers that everyone possesses; and 

---

whoever knows how to develop them to their fullest extent is a 
magician. Magic has but one dogma, namely, that the seen is the 
measure of the unseen.' 
'Will you tell us what the powers are that the adept possesses?' 
'They are enumerated in a Hebrew manuscript of the sixteenth 
century, which is in my possession. The privileges of him who holds 
in his right hand the Keys of Solomon and in his left the Branch of 
the Blossoming Almond are twenty-one. He beholds God face to 
face without dying, and converses intimately with the Seven Genii 
who command the celestial army. He is superior to every affliction 
and to every fear. He reigns with all heaven and is served by all hell. 
He holds the secret of the resurrection of the dead, and the key of 
immortality.' 
'If you possess even these you have evidently the most varied 
attainments,' said Arthur ironically. 
'Everyone can make game of the unknown,' retorted Haddo, with a 
shrug of his massive shoulders. 
Arthur did not answer. He looked at Haddo curiously. He asked 
himself whether he believed seriously these preposterous things, or 
whether he was amusing himself in an elephantine way at their 
expense. His mariner was earnest, but there was an odd expression 
about the mouth, a hard twinkle of the eyes, which seemed to belie 
it. Susie was vastly entertained. It diverted her enormously to hear 
occult matters discussed with apparent gravity in this prosaic 
tavern. Dr Porhoët broke the silence. 
'Arago, after whom has been named a neighbouring boulevard, 
declared that doubt was a proof of modesty, which has rarely 
interfered with the progress of science. But one cannot say the same 
of incredulity, and he that uses the word impossible outside of pure 
mathematics is lacking in prudence. It should be remembered that 
Lactantius proclaimed belief in the existence of antipodes inane, and 
Saint Augustine of Hippo added that in any case there could be no 
question of inhabited lands.' 

---

'That sounds as if you were not quite sceptical, dear doctor,' said 
Miss 
Boyd. 
'In my youth I believed nothing, for science had taught me to 
distrust even the evidence of my five senses,' he replied, with a 
shrug of the shoulders. 'But I have seen many things in the East 
which are inexplicable by the known processes of science. Mr 
Haddo has given you one definition of magic, and I will give you 
another. It may be described merely as the intelligent utilization of 
forces which are unknown, contemned, or misunderstood of the 
vulgar. The young man who settles in the East sneers at the ideas of 
magic which surround him, but I know not what there is in the 
atmosphere that saps his unbelief. When he has sojourned for some 
years among Orientals, he comes insensibly to share the opinion of 
many sensible men that perhaps there is something in it after all.' 
Arthur Burdon made a gesture of impatience. 
'I cannot imagine that, however much I lived in Eastern countries, I 
could believe anything that had the whole weight of science against 
it. If there were a word of truth in anything Haddo says, we should 
be unable to form any reasonable theory of the universe.' 
'For a scientific man you argue with singular fatuity,' said Haddo 
icily, and his manner had an offensiveness which was intensely 
irritating. 'You should be aware that science, dealing only with the 
general, leaves out of consideration the individual cases that 
contradict the enormous majority. Occasionally the heart is on the 
right side of the body, but you would not on that account ever put 
your stethoscope in any other than the usual spot. It is possible that 
under certain conditions the law of gravity does not apply, yet you 
will conduct your life under the conviction that it does so invariably. 
Now, there are some of us who choose to deal only with these 
exceptions to the common run. The dull man who plays at Monte 
Carlo puts his money on the colours, and generally black or red 
turns up; but now and then zero appears, and he loses. But we, who 
have backed zero all the time, win many times our stake. Here and 
there you will find men whose imagination raises them above the 
humdrum of mankind. They are willing to lose their all if only they 
have chance of a great prize. Is it nothing not only to know the 

---

future, as did the prophets of old, but by making it to force the very 
gates of the unknown?' 
Suddenly the bantering gravity with which he spoke fell away from 
him. A singular light came into his eyes, and his voice was hoarse. 
Now at last they saw that he was serious. 
'What should you know of that lust for great secrets which 
consumes me to the bottom of my soul!' 
'Anyhow, I'm perfectly delighted to meet a magician,' cried Susie 
gaily. 
'Ah, call me not that,' he said, with a flourish of his fat hands, 
regaining immediately his portentous flippancy. 'I would be known 
rather as the Brother of the Shadow.' 
'I should have thought you could be only a very distant relation of 
anything so unsubstantial,' said Arthur, with a laugh. 
Oliver's face turned red with furious anger. His strange blue eyes 
grew cold with hatred, and he thrust out his scarlet lips till he had 
the ruthless expression of a Nero. The gibe at his obesity had caught 
him on the raw. Susie feared that he would make so insulting a 
reply that a quarrel must ensure. 
'Well, really, if we want to go to the fair we must start,' she said 
quickly. 'And Marie is dying to be rid of us.' 
They got up, and clattered down the stairs into the street. 

---

4 
They came down to the busy, narrow street which led into the 
Boulevard du Montparnasse. Electric trams passed through it with 
harsh ringing of bells, and people surged along the pavements. 
The fair to which they were going was held at the Lion de Belfort, 
not more than a mile away, and Arthur hailed a cab. Susie told the 
driver where they wanted to be set down. She noticed that Haddo, 
who was waiting for them to start, put his hand on the horse's neck. 
On a sudden, for no apparent reason, it began to tremble. The 
trembling passed through the body and down its limbs till it shook 
from head to foot as though it had the staggers. The coachman 
jumped off his box and held the wretched creature's head. Margaret 
and Susie got out. It was a horribly painful sight. The horse seemed 
not to suffer from actual pain, but from an extraordinary fear. 
Though she knew not why, an idea came to Susie. 
'Take your hand away, Mr Haddo,' she said sharply. 
He smiled, and did as she bade him. At the same moment the 
trembling began to decrease, and in a moment the poor old cab-
horse was in its usual state. It seemed a little frightened still, but 
otherwise recovered. 
'I wonder what the deuce was the matter with it,' said Arthur. 
Oliver Haddo looked at him with the blue eyes that seemed to see 
right through people, and then, lifting his hat, walked away. Susie 
turned suddenly to Dr Porhoët. 
'Do you think he could have made the horse do that? It came 
immediately he put his hand on its neck, and it stopped as soon as 
he took it away.' 
'Nonsense!' said Arthur. 
'It occurred to me that he was playing some trick,' said Dr Porhoët 
gravely. 'An odd thing happened once when he came to see me. I 
have two Persian cats, which are the most properly conducted of all 
their tribe. They spend their days in front of my fire, meditating on 

---

the problems of metaphysics. But as soon as he came in they started 
up, and their fur stood right on end. Then they began to run madly 
round and round the room, as though the victims of uncontrollable 
terror. I opened the door, and they bolted out. I have never been 
able to understand exactly what took place.' 
Margaret shuddered. 
'I've never met a man who filled me with such loathing,' she said. 'I 
don't know what there is about him that frightens me. Even now I 
feel his eyes fixed strangely upon me. I hope I shall never see him 
again.' 
Arthur gave a little laugh and pressed her hand. She would not let 
his go, and he felt that she was trembling. Personally, he had no 
doubt about the matter. He would have no trifling with credibility. 
Either Haddo believed things that none but a lunatic could, or else 
he was a charlatan who sought to attract attention by his 
extravagances. In any case he was contemptible. It was certain, at all 
events, that neither he nor anyone else could work miracles. 
'I'll tell you what I'll do,' said Arthur. 'If he really knows Frank 
Hurrell I'll find out all about him. I'll drop a note to Hurrell tonight 
and ask him to tell me anything he can.' 
'I wish you would,' answered Susie, 'because he interests me 
enormously. There's no place like Paris for meeting queer folk. 
Sooner or later you run across persons who believe in everything. 
There's no form of religion, there's no eccentricity or enormity, that 
hasn't its votaries. Just think what a privilege it is to come upon a 
man in the twentieth century who honestly believes in the occult.' 
'Since I have been occupied with these matters, I have come across 
strange people,' said Dr Porhoët quietly, 'but I agree with Miss Boyd 
that Oliver Haddo is the most extraordinary. For one thing, it is 
impossible to know how much he really believes what he says. Is he 
an impostor or a madman? Does he deceive himself, or is he 
laughing up his sleeve at the folly of those who take him seriously? I 
cannot tell. All I know is that he has travelled widely and is 
acquainted with many tongues. He has a minute knowledge of 
alchemical literature, and there is no book I have heard of, dealing 

---

with the black arts, which he does not seem to know.' Dr Porhoët 
shook his head slowly. 'I should not care to dogmatize about this 
man. I know I shall outrage the feelings of my friend Arthur, but I 
am bound to confess it would not surprise me to learn that he 
possessed powers by which he was able to do things seemingly 
miraculous.' 
Arthur was prevented from answering by their arrival at the Lion de 
Belfort. 
The fair was in full swing. The noise was deafening. Steam bands 
thundered out the popular tunes of the moment, and to their din 
merry-go-rounds were turning. At the door of booths men 
vociferously importuned the passers-by to enter. From the shooting 
saloons came a continual spatter of toy rifles. Linking up these 
sounds, were the voices of the serried crowd that surged along the 
central avenue, and the shuffle of their myriad feet. The night was 
lurid with acetylene torches, which flamed with a dull unceasing 
roar. It was a curious sight, half gay, half sordid. The throng seemed 
bent with a kind of savagery upon amusement, as though, resentful 
of the weary round of daily labour, it sought by a desperate effort to 
be merry. 
The English party with Dr Porhoët, mildly ironic, had scarcely 
entered before they were joined by Oliver Haddo. He was 
indifferent to the plain fact that they did not want his company. He 
attracted attention, for his appearance and his manner were 
remarkable, and Susie noticed that he was pleased to see people 
point him out to one another. He wore a Spanish cloak, the 
capa
, and 
he flung the red and green velvet of its lining gaudily over his 
shoulder. He had a large soft hat. His height was great, though less 
noticeable on account of his obesity, and he towered over the puny 
multitude. 
They looked idly at the various shows, resisting the melodramas, 
the circuses, the exhibitions of eccentricity, which loudly clamoured 
for their custom. Presently they came to a man who was cutting 
silhouettes in black paper, and Haddo insisted on posing for him. A 
little crowd collected and did not spare their jokes at his singular 
appearance. He threw himself into his favourite attitude of proud 

---

command. Margaret wished to take the opportunity of leaving him, 
but Miss Boyd insisted on staying. 
'He's the most ridiculous creature I've ever seen in my life,' she 
whispered. 'I wouldn't let him out of my sight for worlds.' 
When the silhouette was done, he presented it with a low bow to 
Margaret. 
'I implore your acceptance of the only portrait now in existence of 
Oliver Haddo,' he said. 
'Thank you,' she answered frigidly. 
She was unwilling to take it, but had not the presence of mind to put 
him off by a jest, and would not be frankly rude. As though certain 
she set much store on it, he placed it carefully in an envelope. They 
walked on and suddenly came to a canvas booth on which was an 
Eastern name. Roughly painted on sail-cloth was a picture of an 
Arab charming snakes, and above were certain words in Arabic. At 
the entrance, a native sat cross-legged, listlessly beating a drum. 
When he saw them stop, he addressed them in bad French. 
'Does not this remind you of the turbid Nile, Dr Porhoët?' said 
Haddo. 
'Let us go in and see what the fellow has to show.' 
Dr Porhoët stepped forward and addressed the charmer, who 
brightened on hearing the language of his own country. 
'He is an Egyptian from Assiut,' said the doctor. 
'I will buy tickets for you all,' said Haddo. 
He held up the flap that gave access to the booth, and Susie went in. 
Margaret and Arthur Burdon, somewhat against their will, were 
obliged to follow. The native closed the opening behind them. They 
found themselves in a dirty little tent, ill-lit by two smoking lamps; a 
dozen stools were placed in a circle on the bare ground. In one 
corner sat a fellah woman, motionless, in ample robes of dingy 
black. Her face was hidden by a long veil, which was held in place 
by a queer ornament of brass in the middle of the forehead, between 

---

the eyes. These alone were visible, large and sombre, and the lashes 
were darkened with kohl: her fingers were brightly stained with 
henna. She moved slightly as the visitors entered, and the man gave 
her his drum. She began to rub it with her hands, curiously, and 
made a droning sound, which was odd and mysterious. There was a 
peculiar odour in the place, so that Dr Porhoët was for a moment 
transported to the evil-smelling streets of Cairo. It was an acrid 
mixture of incense, of attar of roses, with every imaginable 
putrescence. It choked the two women, and Susie asked for a 
cigarette. The native grinned when he heard the English tongue. He 
showed a row of sparkling and beautiful teeth. 
'My name Mohammed,' he said. 'Me show serpents to Sirdar Lord 
Kitchener. 
Wait and see. Serpents very poisonous.' 
He was dressed in a long blue gabardine, more suited to the sunny 
banks of the Nile than to a fair in Paris, and its colour could hardly 
be seen for dirt. On his head was the national tarboosh. 
A rug lay at one side of the tent, and from under it he took a 
goatskin sack. He placed it on the ground in the middle of the circle 
formed by the seats and crouched down on his haunches. Margaret 
shuddered, for the uneven surface of the sack moved strangely. He 
opened the mouth of it. The woman in the corner listlessly droned 
away on the drum, and occasionally uttered a barbaric cry. With a 
leer and a flash of his bright teeth, the Arab thrust his hand into the 
sack and rummaged as a man would rummage in a sack of corn. He 
drew out a long, writhing snake. He placed it on the ground and for 
a moment waited, then he passed his hand over it: it became 
immediately as rigid as a bar of iron. Except that the eyes, the cruel 
eyes, were open still, there might have been no life in it. 
'Look,' said Haddo. 'That is the miracle which Moses did before 
Pharaoh.' 
Then the Arab took a reed instrument, not unlike the pipe which 
Pan in the hills of Greece played to the dryads, and he piped a 
weird, monotonous tune. The stiffness broke away from the snake 
suddenly, and it lifted its head and raised its long body till it stood 
almost on the tip of its tail, and it swayed slowly to and fro. 

---

Oliver Haddo seemed extraordinarily fascinated. He leaned forward 
with eager face, and his unnatural eyes were fixed on the charmer 
with an indescribable expression. Margaret drew back in terror. 
'You need not be frightened,' said Arthur. 'These people only work 
with animals whose fangs have been extracted.' 
Oliver Haddo looked at him before answering. He seemed to 
consider each time what sort of man this was to whom he spoke. 
'A man is only a snake-charmer because, without recourse to 
medicine, he is proof against the fangs of the most venomous 
serpents.' 
'Do you think so?' said Arthur. 
'I saw the most noted charmer of Madras die two hours after he had 
been bitten by a cobra,' said Haddo. I had heard many tales of his 
prowess, and one evening asked a friend to take me to him. He was 
out when we arrived, but we waited, and presently, accompanied 
by some friends, he came. We told him what we wanted. He had 
been at a marriage-feast and was drunk. But he sent for his snakes, 
and forthwith showed us marvels which this man has never heard 
of. At last he took a great cobra from his sack and began to handle it. 
Suddenly it darted at his chin and bit him. It made two marks like 
pin-points. The juggler started back. 
'"I am a dead man," he said. 
'Those about him would have killed the cobra, but he prevented 
them. 
'"Let the creature live," he said. "It may be of service to others of my 
trade. To me it can be of no other use. Nothing can save me." 
'His friends and the jugglers, his fellows, gathered round him and 
placed him in a chair. In two hours he was dead. In his drunkenness 
he had forgotten a portion of the spell which protected him, and so 
he died.' 

---

'You have a marvellous collection of tall stories,' said Arthur. 'I'm 
afraid I should want better proof that these particular snakes are 
poisonous.' 
Oliver turned to the charmer and spoke to him in Arabic. Then he 
answered 
Arthur. 
'The man has a horned viper,