8
THK BATTALION
“In Heaven’s name, Emil,” said I, “what did you read
there?”
“It would be hard to say in any definite, intelligible
form,” he answered. “It was just that he kept muttering
inwardly the most horrible things. He seemed to gloat over
past seductions of humanity. His sublatent consciousness
bubbled up from time to time in such spurts as these: Sam
son and David with women, Gehazi with garments, Judas
with money; Alcibiades with pique, Caesar with empire, the
Visigoth Julian with revenge, Crassus and Churchill with
money. Surest of all is money. That tempter mirrors all
the rest. What was in Gehazi’s mind, when I followed with
him after the chariot of Naaman? Money, and the meaning
of money—garments, and oliveyards, and vineyards, and
sheep, and oxen, and men-servants, and maid-servants.
I tell you, I shall not sleep tonight for the awful things I
have read behind those shining brows.”
“If you are sure,” said I, “that there is evil in the man,
let us break off with him, have no dealings with him at all.
But, to me, I must say, he appeared a really genial man of
business, a little subtle in the eye, but in speech as fair and
frank as anyone I ever met.” Olsen shuddered.
“I wish that you could have seen into his mind,” he said.
I had never seen Olsen so nervous as he was when the
hour drew near which I had appointed for our next day’s
interview with Mr. Lamb. I felt some dismay too. Perhaps
it was the contagion of my friend’s uneasiness; perhaps it