She joyfully obeyed, and within forty-eight hours was lodged in a home
for incurables. Another woman, if possible even uglier than the last, approached him
with a similar request. "Let me have a spell at once," she said, "that will make every member
of the Government be run over by taxis--and killed. They are monsters,
tyrants--I abominate them. Let them be slowly--very slowly--SQUASHED
to death!" "Very well, madam," Kelson said, carefully concealing a smile, "here
is what you want--wear it next your heart;" and he gave her a locket,
containing a magnes microcosmi charged with the essence of life of a
leper, which he had procured at considerable risk and expense. "I consider your fee far too high," the Suffragette said. "You take
advantage of me because I'm a woman." "Very well, madam," he said, "I will make an exception in your case,
and let you have it for half the sum." With a good deal more grumbling she paid the half fee, and, fastening
the locket round her neck, flounced out of the building. As Kelson
gleefully anticipated, the spell acted in less than two days, and with
such success, that he was more than compensated for the monetary loss. Shortly afterwards, Kelson received a frantic visit from another
Suffragette--a woman whose virulent sandy hair at once aroused his
animosity. "Quick! Quick!" she cried, bursting into the room where he was
sitting. "Let me have a spell that will blow up every Cabinet
Minister, and their wives and families as well." "Such an ambitious request as that, madam," Kelson rejoined, "cannot
be granted in a hurry. I must have time--to--"

"No! No! At once!" the lady cried, stamping her feet with
ill-suppressed rage.

" --to consider how it can best be done," Kelson went on calmly. "I
must have time to think." The lady fumed, but Kelson remained inexorable; and directly she had
gone, he made a wax image of her, and taking up a knife chopped its
head off. In the evening, he learned that a lady answering to her
description had been run over by a train at Chislehurst--and
decapitated. Kelson grew heartily sick of the Suffragettes. They were not only
plain but abusive, and he complained bitterly to Hamar. "Look here," he said, "it's not fair. You and Curtis see all the
decent-looking women and shelve all the rest on me. I'll stand it no
longer." And he spoke so determinedly, that Hamar thought it politic
to humour him. "Very well, Matt," he said, forcing a laugh. "I'll try and arrange
differently in future. After to-day you shall have your share of the
pretty ones--anything to keep the peace. Only--remember--no falling in
love." FOOTNOTES:

  [Footnote 22: Lest the reader should query this, let him consult the
  police in any of our big centres, and he will learn that crime and
  prostitution is immensely on the increase among children. In
  Newcastle it is estimated that there are over two thousand girls, of
  under fourteen years of age, voluntarily leading immoral lives, and
  making big incomes.] CHAPTER XXII

THE PERSECUTION OF THE MARTINS


Hamar's one great idea on reaching stage four was to utilize the
torments as a means of getting Gladys. Though he saw crowds of pretty
girls every day, none appealed to him as she did--and the very
difficulty of getting her enhanced her value and stimulated his
passions. "I will give her one more chance," he said to himself, "and then if
she won't have me I'll plague her to death." He went to the Imperial, and passing himself off as her father to the
new official at the stage-door entrance, was shown into the ante-room
(which led to her dressing-room). It took a good deal to scare Hamar,
but he admitted afterwards that he did feel a trifle apprehensive
whilst he awaited her advent; and his anticipations were fully
realized. "Why, father!" she began, as the door of her dressing-room swung open
and she appeared on the threshold, clad in a shimmering white dress,
that intensified her fair style of beauty, "what brings you--" The
smile on her face suddenly died away. "You!" she cried, "how dare you! Go! Go at once! And if you dare come
here again or attempt to molest me in any way, I'll prosecute you!" Hamar, dumbfounded at such an exhibition of wrath, slunk out of the
room without uttering a syllable. "The vixen," he muttered as soon as he found himself in the street. "A
thousand cats in one! Treated me like mud. Jerusalem! I'll pay her
out. And I'll lose no time about it either. She'll look differently at
me next time we meet." He hurried back to Cockspur Street and going into the laboratory,
threw himself into a chair and--thought. That same evening at nine-thirty, in the interval between her first
and second "going on," Gladys hastened to her dressing-room, and was
preparing to partake of the light refreshments she had ordered,
when--to her horror--she perceived crawling towards her, across the
floor, a huge cockroach--a hideous black thing with spidery legs and
long antennae that it waved, to and fro, in the air, as it advanced. It was at least double the size of any Gladys had hitherto seen, and
her feelings can best be appreciated by those who fear such
things--her blood ran cold, her flesh crawled, she sat glued to her
chair, terrified to move, lest it should run after her. She screamed,
and her dresser, startled out of her senses, came flying into the
room. "What is it, madam? What is it?" she cried. Gladys pointed at the floor. "Kill it!" she shrieked. "Stamp on it! Oh, quick, quick, it is coming
towards me." But the moment the dresser caught sight of the cockroach, she sprang
on a chair and wound her skirts round her. "Oh, madam," she panted, "I daren't! I daren't go near it. I'm
frightened out of my life, at beetles. And there's another of
them"--and she pointed to the wainscoting--"and another! Why, the
room's full of them!" And so it was. Everywhere Gladys looked she saw beetles crawling
towards her--dozens upon dozens, hundreds upon hundreds--and all of
the same monstrous size and ultra-horrible appearance. "Look!" she screamed. "They are climbing on to my clothes. One's got
into my shoes, and another will be in them, in a second. There's
another--crawling up my cloak--and another on my skirt. Oh! Oh!" and
her cries, and those of the dresser, speedily brought a troop of
actors and actresses to the door. The instant, however, the cause of
the alarm was ascertained, there were loud yells, and a wild stampede
down the passages. The Stage Manager was called, but one glance at the
floor was enough for him--he fled. And in the end three of the supers
had to be fetched. Hot water, brooms, ashes, and quicklime were used,
and although thousands of the cockroaches were killed, thousands more
came, and so hopeless did the task of getting rid of them become, that
the room eventually had to be vacated, and the cracks under the door
securely sealed. Before Gladys left the theatre, she was called on the telephone. "Who are you?" she asked. "Hamar," came the reply, in insinuating tones.