A fine end, this, of all my intellectual transports --my 'endless variety and excitement of philo-sophic thought'! I was about to retire in disgust when something occurred to hold my curiosity. Iobserved a shrug of the thing's great shoulders, as if it were irritated: and so natural was this--so entirely human--that in my new view of the matter it startled me. Nor was that all, for a moment later it struck the table sharply with its clenched hand.
At that gesture Moxon seemed even more startled than I: he pushed his chair a little backward, as in alarm.
Presently Moxon, whose play it was, raised his hand high above the board, pounced upon one of his pieces like a sparrow-hawk and with the exclama-tion 'check-mate!' rose quickly to his feet and stepped behind his chair. The automaton sat mo-tionless.
The wind had now gone down, but I heard, at lessening intervals and progressively louder, the rumble and roll of thunder. In the pauses between I now became conscious of a low humming or buzz-ing which, like the thunder, grew momentarily louder and more distinct. It seemed to come from the body of the automaton, and was unmistakably a whirring of wheels. It gave me the impression of a disordered mechanism which had escaped the re-pressive and regulating action of some controlling part--an effect such as might be expected if a pawl should be jostled from the teeth of a ratchet-wheel. But before I had time for much conjecture as to its nature my attention was taken by the strange motions of the automaton itself. A slight but continuous convulsion appeared to have possession of it. In body and head it shook like a man with palsy or an ague chill, and the motion augmented every moment until the entire figure was in violent agita-tion. Suddenly it sprang to its feet and with a move-ment almost too quick for the eye to follow shot forward across table and chair, with both arms thrust forth to their full length--the posture and lunge of a diver. Moxon tried to throw himself back-ward out of reach, but he was too late: I saw the horrible thing's hand close upon his throat, his own clutch its wrists. Then the table was overturned, and candle thrown to the floor and extinguished, and all was black dark. But the noise of the struggle was dreadfully distinct, and most terrible of all were the raucous, squawking sounds made by the strangled man's efforts to breathe. Guided by the infernal hub-bub, I sprang to the rescue of my friend, but had hardly taken a stride in the darkness when the whole room blazed with a blinding white light that burned into my brain and heart and memory a vivid pic-ture of the combatants on the floor, Moxon under-neath, his throat still in the clutch of those iron hands, his head forced backward, his eyes protrud-ing, his mouth wide open and his tongue thrust out;and--horrible contrast!--upon the painted face of his assassin an expression of tranquil and pro-found thought, as in the solution of a problem in chess! This I observed, then all was blackness and silence.
Three days later I recovered consciousness in a hospital. As the memory of that tragic night slowly evolved in my ailing brain I recognized in my at-tendant Moxon's confidential workman, Haley. Re-sponding to a look he approached, smiling.
'Tell me about it,' I managed to say, faintly--'all about it.'
'Certainly,' he said; 'you were carried uncon-scious from a burning house--Moxon's. Nobody knows how you came to be there. You may have to do a little explaining. The origin of the fire is a bit mysterious, too. My own notion is that the house was struck by lightning.'
'And Moxon?'
'Buried yesterday--what was left of him.'
Apparently this reticent person could unfold him-self on occasion. When imparting shocking intelli-gence to the sick he was affable enough. After some moments of the keenest mental suffering I ven-tured to ask another question:
'Who rescued me?'
'Well, if that interests you--I did.'
'Thank you, Mr. Haley, and may God bless you for it. Did you rescue, also, that charming product of your skill, the automaton chess-player that mur-dered its inventor?'
The man was silent a long time, looking away from me. Presently he turned and gravely said:
'Do you know that?'
'I do,' I replied; 'I saw it done.'
That was many years ago. If asked to-day Ishould answer less confidently.
