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I floated off to my room through the unresisting air, and stirred up my fire and sat down to enjoy my happiness and study over the enigma of those names. By ferretingⒶ out of my memory certain scraps and shredsⒶ of information garnered from 44's talks I presently untangled the matter, and arrived at an explanation—which was this: the presence of my flesh-and-bloodⒶ personality was not a circumstance of any interest to Marget Regen,Ⓐ but my presence as a spirit acted upon her hypnotically—as 44 termed it—and plunged her into the somnambulic sleep. This removed her Day-Self from commandⒶ and from consciousness, and gave the command to her Dream-Self for the time being. Her Dream-Self was a quite definite and independent personality, and for reasons of its own it had chosen to name itself Elisabeth von Arnim. It was entirely unacquainted with Marget Regen,Ⓐ did not even know she existed, and had no knowledge of her affairs, her feelings, her opinions, her religion, her history, nor of any other matter concerning her. On the other hand, Marget was entirely unacquainted with ElisabethⒶ and wholly ignorant of her existence and of all other matters concerning her, including her name.

Marget knew me as August Feldner, her Dream-Self knew me as Martin von Giesbach—why, was a matter beyond guessing. Awake, the girl cared nothing for me; steeped in the hypnotic sleep, I was the idol of her heart.

There was another thing which I had learned from 44, and that was this: each human being contains not merely two independent entities, but three—the Waking-Self, the Dream-Self, and the Soul. This last is immortal, the others are functioned by the brain and the nerves, and are physical and mortal;Ⓐ they are not functionable when the brain and nerves are paralysed by a temporary hurtⒶ or stupefied by narcotics; and whenⒶ the man dies they die, since their life, their energy and their existence depend solelyⒶ upon physical

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sustenance, and they cannot get that from dead nerves and a dead brain. When I was invisible the whole of my physical make-up was gone, nothing connected with it or depending upon it was left. My soul—my immortal spirit—alone remained. Freed from the encumbering flesh, it was able to exhibitⒶⒶ forces, passionsⒶ and emotions of a quite tremendously effective character.

It seemed to me that I had now ciphered the matter out correctly, and unpuzzled the puzzle. I was right, as I found out afterward.

And now a sorrowful thought came to me: all three of my Selves were in love with the one girl, and how could we all be happy? It made me miserable to think of it, the situation was so involved in difficulties, perplexities and unavoidable heart-burnings and resentments.

Always before, I had been tranquilly unconcerned about my Duplicate. To me he was merely a stranger, no more no less; to him I was a stranger; in all our lives we had never chanced to meet until 44 had put flesh upon him; we could not have met if we had wanted to, because whenever one of us was awake and in command of our common brain and nervesⒶ the other was of necessity asleep and unconscious. All our lives we had been what 44 called Box and Cox lodgers in the one chamberⒺ: aware of each other's existence but not interested in each other's affairs, and never encountering each other save for a dim and hazy and sleepy half-Ⓐmoment on the threshold, when one was coming in and the other going out, and never in any case halting to make a bow or pass a greeting.

And so it was not until my Dream-Self's fleshing that he and I met and spoke. There was no heartiness; we began as mere acquaintances, and so remained. Although we had been born together, at the same moment and of the same womb,Ⓐ there was no spiritual kinship between us; spirituallyⒶ we were a couple of distinctly independent and unrelated individuals, with equal rights in a common fleshlyⒶ property, and we cared no more for each other than we cared for any other stranger. My fleshed Duplicate did not even bear my name, but called himself Emil Schwarz.Ⓐ

I was always courteous to my Duplicate, but I avoided him. This

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was natural, perhaps, for he was my superior. My imagination, compared with his splendid dream-equipmentⒶ,Ⓐ was as a lightning bug to the lightning; inⒶ matters of our trade he could do more with his hands in five minutes than I could do in a day; he did all my work in the shop, and found it but a trifle; in the arts and graces of beguilement andⒶ persuasion I was aⒶ pauper and he a Croesus; in passion, feeling, emotion, sensation—whether of pain or pleasure—I was phosphorus, he was fire. In a word he had all the intensities one suffers or enjoys in a dream!

This was the creature that had chosen to make love to Marget! In my coarse dull human form, what chance was there for me? Oh, none in the world, none! I knew it, I realized it, and the heartbreak of it was unbearable.

But my Soul, stripped of its vulgar flesh—what was my DuplicateⒶ in competition with that? Nothing, and less than nothing. The conditions were reversed, as regardedⒶ passions, emotions, sensations, and the arts and graces of persuasion. Lisbet was mine, and I could hold her against the world—but only when she was Lisbet, only when her Dream-Self was in command of her person! when she was Marget she was her Waking-Self, and the slave of that reptile! Ah, there could be no help for this, no way out of this fiendish complication. I could have only half of her; the other half, no less dear to me, must remain the possession of another. She was mine, she was his, turn-aboutⒶ.

These desolating thoughts kept racing and chasing and scorching and blistering through my brain without rest or halt, and I could find no peace, no comfort, no healing for the tortures they brought. Lisbet's love, so limitlessly dear and precious to me, was almost lost sight of because I couldn't have Marget's too. By this sign I perceived that I was still a human being; that is to say, a person who wants the earth, and cannot be satisfied unless he can have the whole of it. Well, we are made so; even the humblest of us has the voracity of an emperor.

At early mass the next morning my happiness came back to me, for Marget was there, and the sight of her cured all my sorrows. For a time! She took no notice of me, and I was not expecting she

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would, therefore I was not troubled about that, and was content to look at her, and breathe the same air with her, and note and admire everything she did and everything she didn't do, and bless myself in these privileges; but when I found she had over-many occasions to glance casually and fleetingly around to her left I was moved to glance around, myself, and see if there was anything particular there. Sure enough there was. It was Emil SchwarzⒶ. He was already become a revolting object to me, and I now so detested him that I could hardly look at anything else during the rest of the service; except, of course, Marget.

When the service was over, I lingered outside, and madeⒶ myself invisible, purposing toⒶ follow Marget and resume the wooing. But she did not come. Everybody came out but two,—those two.Ⓐ After a little, Marget put her head out and looked around to see if any one was in sight, then she glanced back, with a slight nod, and moved swiftly away. That saddened me, for I interpreted it to mean that the other wooing was to have first place. Next came Schwarz, and him I followed—upward, always upward, by dim and narrow stairways seldom used; and so, to a lofty apartment in the south tower, the luxurious quarters of the departed magician. He entered, and closed the door, but I followed straight through the heavy panels, without waiting, and halted just on the inside. There was a great fire of logs at the other end of the room, and Marget was there! She came briskly to meet this odious Dream-stuffⒶ, and flung herself into his arms, and kissed him—and he her, and she him again, and he her again, and so on, and so on, and so on, till it was most unpleasantⒶ to look at. But I bore it, for I wanted to know all my misfortune, the full magnitude of it and the particulars. Next, they went arm-in-arm and sat down and cuddled up together on a sofa, and did that all over again—over and over and over and over—the most offensiveⒶ spectacleⒶ I had ever seen, as it seemed to me. Then Schwarz tilted upⒶ that beautiful face, usingⒶ his profane forefinger as a fulcrum underⒶ the chin that should have been sacred to me, and looked down into the luminous eyes which should have been wholly mine by rights, and said, archly—

“Little traitor!”

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“Traitor? I? How, Emil?”

“You didn't keep your tryst last night.”

“Why, Emil, I did!”

“Oh, not you! ComeⒶ—what did we do? where did we go? For a ducat you can't tell!”

Marget looked surprised—then nonplussed—then a little frightened.

“It is very strange,” she said, “very strange . . . . . unaccountable. I seem to have forgotten everything. But I know I was out; I was out till near midnight; I know it because my mother chided me, and tried her best to make me confess what had kept me out so late; and she was very uneasy, and I was cruelly afraid she would suspect the truth. I rememberⒶ nothing at all of what happened before. Isn't it strange!”Ⓐ

Then the devil SchwarzⒶ laughed gaily and said that for a kiss he would unriddle the riddle. So he told her how he had encountered her, and how she was walking in her sleep, and how she was dreaming of him, and how happy it made him to see her kiss the air, imagining she was kissing him. And then they both laughed at the odd incident, and droppedⒶ the trifle out of their minds, and fell to trading caresses and endearments again, and thought no more about it.

They talked of the “happy day!”—a phrase that scorched me like a coal. They would win over the mother and the uncle presently—yes, they were quite sure of it. Then they built their future—built it out of sunshine and rainbows and rapture; and went on adding and adding to its golden ecstasies until they were so intoxicated with the prospect that words were no longer adequate to express what they were foreseeing and pre-enjoying, and so died upon their lips and gave place to love's true and richer language, wordless soul-communion: the heaving breast, the deep sigh, the unrelaxing embrace,Ⓐ the shoulder-pillowed head, the bliss-dimmed eyes, the lingering kiss . . . .

By God, my reason was leaving me! I swept forward and enveloped them as with a viewless cloud! In an instant Marget was Lisbet again; and as she sprang to her feet divinely aflame with

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passion for me I stepped back, and back, and back, she following, then I stopped and she fell panting in my arms, murmuring—

“Oh, my own, my idol, how wearily the time has dragged—do not leave me again!”

That Dream-mush rose astonished, and stared stupidly, his mouth working, but fetching out no words. Then he thought he understood, and started toward us, saying—Ⓐ

“Walking in her sleep again—how suddenly it takes her! . . . . . I wonder how she can lean over like that without falling?”

He arrived and put his armsⒶ through me and around her toⒶ support her, saying tenderly—Ⓐ

“Wake, dearheart, shake it off, I cannot bear to see you so!”

Lisbet freed herself from his arms and bent a stare of astonishment and wounded dignity upon him, accompanied by words to match—

“Mr. Schwarz, you forget yourself!”

It knocked the reptile stupid for a moment; then he got his bearings and said—

“Oh, please come to yourself, dear, it is so hard to see you like this. But if you can't wake, do come to the divan and sleep it off, and I will so lovingly watch over you, my darling, and protect you from intrusion and discovery. Come, MargetⒶ—do!”

“Marget!” Lisbet's eyes kindled, as at a new affront. “What Marget, please?Ⓐ Whom do you take me for? And why do you venture these familiarities?” She softened a little then, seeing how dazed and how pitiably distressed he looked, and added, “I have always treated you with courtesy, Mr. Schwarz, and it is very unkind of you to insult me in this wanton way.”

In his miserable confusion he did not know what to say, and so he said the wrong thing—

“Oh, my poor afflicted child, shake it off, be your sweet self again, and let us steep our souls once more in dreams of our happy marriage day and—”

It was too much. She would not let him finish, but broke wrathfully into the midst of his sentence.

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“Go away!” she said; “your mind is disordered, you have been drinking. Go—go at once! I cannot bear the sight of you!”

He crept humbly away and out at the door,Ⓐ mopping his eyes with his handkerchief and muttering “Poor afflicted thing, it breaks my heart to see her so!”

Dear Lisbet, she was just a girl—alternate sunshine and shower, peremptory soldier one minute, crying the next. Sobbing, she took refuge on my breast, saying—

“Love me, oh my precious one, give me peace, heal my hurts, charm away the memory of the shame this odious creature has put upon me!”

During half an hour we re-enacted that sofa-scene where it had so lately been played before, detail by detail, kiss for kiss, dream for dream, and the bliss of it was beyond words. But with an important difference: in Marget's case there was a mamma to be pacified and persuaded, but Lisbet von Arnim had no such incumbrances; if she had a relative in the world she was not aware of it; she was free and independent, she could marry whom she pleased and when she pleased. And so, with the dearest and sweetest naivety she suggested that to-day and now was as good a time as any! The suddenness of it, the unexpectedness of it, would have taken my breath if I had had any. As it was, it swept through me like a delicious wind and set my whole fabric waving and fluttering. For a moment I was gravelyⒶ embarrassed. Would it be right, would it be honorable, would it not be treason to let this confiding young creature marry herself to a viewless detail of the atmosphere? I knew how to accomplish it, and was burning to do it, but would it be fair? Ought I not to at least tell her my condition,Ⓐ and let her decide for herself? Ah . . . . . She might decide the wrong way!

No, I couldn't bring myself to it, I couldn't run the risk. I must think—think—think. I must hunt out a good and righteous reasonⒶ for the marriage without the revelation. That is the way we are made; when we badly want a thing, we go to hunting for good and righteous reasons for it; we give it that fine name to comfort our consciences, whereasⒶ we privately know we are only hunting for plausible ones.

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I seemed to find what I was seeking, and I urgently pretended to myself that it hadn't a defect in it. Forty-Four was my friend; no doubt I could persuade him to return my Dream-Self into my body and lock it up there for good. Schwarz being thus put out of the way, wouldn't my wife's Waking-Self presently lose interest in him and cease from loving him? That looked plausible. Next, by throwing my Waking-Self in the way of her Waking-Self a good deal and using tact and art, would not a time come when . . . . . . oh, it was all as clear as a bell! Certainly. It wouldn't be long, it couldn't be long, before I could retire my Soul into my body, then both Lisbet and Marget being widowsⒶ and longing for solace and tender companionship, would yield to the faithful beseechings and supplications of my poor inferior Waking-Self and marry him. Oh, the scheme was perfect, it was flawless, and my enthusiasm over it was without measure or limit. Lisbet caught that enthusiasm from my face and cried out—

“I know what it is! It is going to be now!“

I began to volley the necessary “suggestions” into her head as fast as I could load and fire—for by “suggestion,” as 44 had told me, you make the hypnotised subject see and do and feel whatever you please: see people and things that are not there, hear words that are not spoken, eat salt for sugar, drink vinegar for wine, find the rose's sweetness in a stench, carry out all suggested acts—and forget the whole of it when he wakes, and remember the whole of it again wheneverⒶ the hypnotic sleep returns!

In obedience to suggestion, Lisbet clothed herself as a bride; by suggestion she made obeisance to imaginary altar and priest, and smiled upon imaginary wedding-guests;Ⓐ made the solemn responses; received the ring, bent her dear little head to the benediction, put up her lips for the marriage kiss, and blushed as a new-made wife should before people!

Then,Ⓐ byⒶ suggestion altar and priest and friends passedⒶ away and we were alone—alone, immeasurably content, the happiest pair in the Duchy of Austria!

Ah . . . . .Ⓐ footsteps! some one coming! I fled to the middle of the room, to emancipate Lisbet from the embarrassment of the

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hypnotic sleep and be Marget again and ready for emergencies. She began to gazeⒶ around and about, surprised, wondering, also a little frightened, I thought.

“Why, where is Emil?” she said. “How strange; I did not see him go. How could he go and I not see him? . . . . Emil! . . . . No answer!Ⓐ Surely this magician's den is bewitched. But we've been here many times, and nothing happened.”Ⓐ

At that momentⒶ Emil slipped in, closed the door, and said, apologetically and in a tone and manner charged with the most respectful formality—Ⓐ

“Forgive me, Miss Regen,Ⓐ but I was afraid for you and have stood guard—it would not do for you to be found in this place, and asleep. Your mother is fretting about your absence—her nurse is looking for you everywhere—I have misdirected her . . . . . pardon,Ⓐ what is the matter?”

MargetⒶ was gazing at him in a sort of stupefaction, with the tears beginning to trickle down her face. She began to sob in her hands, and said—

“If I have been asleep it was cruel of you to leave me. Oh, Emil, how could you desert me at such a time, if you love me?”

The astonished and happy bullfrog had her in his arms in a minute and was blistering her with kisses, which she paid back as fast as she could register them, and she not cold yet from her marriage-oath! A man—and such a man as that—hugging my wife before my eyes, and she getting a gross and voracious satisfaction out of it!—I could not endure the shameful sight. I rose and winged my way thence, intending to kick a couple of his teeth out as I passed over,Ⓐ but his mouth was employed and I could not get at it.