The Parasite by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


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Page 25

I have heard from the Mardens that they will be back
the day after to-morrow. I do not know whether I am
glad or sorry. They were safe in London. Once here
they may be drawn into the miserable network in which I
am myself struggling. And I must tell them of it. I
cannot marry Agatha so long as I know that I am not
responsible for my own actions. Yes, I must tell them,
even if it brings every thing to an end between us.

To-night is the university ball, and I must go. God
knows I never felt less in the humor for festivity, but
I must not have it said that I am unfit to appear in
public. If I am seen there, and have speech with some
of the elders of the university it will go a long way
toward showing them that it would be unjust to take my
chair away from me.

10 P. M. I have been to the ball. Charles Sadler and
I went together, but I have come away before him. I
shall wait up for him, however, for, indeed, I fear to
go to sleep these nights. He is a cheery, practical
fellow, and a chat with him will steady my nerves. On
the whole, the evening was a great success. I talked
to every one who has influence, and I think that I made
them realize that my chair is not vacant quite yet.
The creature was at the ball--unable to dance, of
course, but sitting with Mrs. Wilson. Again and again
her eyes rested upon me. They were almost the last
things I saw before I left the room. Once, as I sat
sideways to her, I watched her, and saw that her gaze
was following some one else. It was Sadler, who was
dancing at the time with the second Miss Thurston. To
judge by her expression, it is well for him that he is
not in her grip as I am. He does not know the escape
he has had. I think I hear his step in the street now,
and I will go down and let him in. If he will----

May 4. Why did I break off in this way last night? I
never went down stairs, after all--at least, I have no
recollection of doing so. But, on the other hand, I
cannot remember going to bed. One of my hands is
greatly swollen this morning, and yet I have no
remembrance of injuring it yesterday. Otherwise, I am
feeling all the better for last night's festivity. But
I cannot understand how it is that I did not meet
Charles Sadler when I so fully intended to do so. Is
it possible---- My God, it is only too probable! Has
she been leading me some devil's dance again? I will
go down to Sadler and ask him.

Mid-day. The thing has come to a crisis. My life is
not worth living. But, if I am to die, then she shall
come also. I will not leave her behind, to drive some
other man mad as she has me. No, I have come to the
limit of my endurance. She has made me as desperate
and dangerous a man as walks the earth. God knows I
have never had the heart to hurt a fly, and yet, if I
had my hands now upon that woman, she should never
leave this room alive. I shall see her this very day,
and she shall learn what she has to expect from me.

I went to Sadler and found him, to my surprise, in bed.
As I entered he sat up and turned a face toward me
which sickened me as I looked at it.

"Why, Sadler, what has happened?" I cried, but my heart
turned cold as I said it.

"Gilroy," he answered, mumbling with his swollen lips,
"I have for some weeks been under the impression that
you are a madman. Now I know it, and that you are a
dangerous one as well. If it were not that I am
unwilling to make a scandal in the college, you would
now be in the hands of the police."

"Do you mean----" I cried.

"I mean that as I opened the door last night you rushed
out upon me, struck me with both your fists in the
face, knocked me down, kicked me furiously in the side,
and left me lying almost unconscious in the street.
Look at your own hand bearing witness against you."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Fri 19th Dec 2025, 23:44