Dr Nikola Returns | Page 2

pink by the setting sun,

is gathering. A quieter spot, and one more remote from the rush and
bustle of civilization, it would be difficult to find. Once every six
months my stores are brought up to me on mule-back by a trusted
retainer who has never spoken a word of English in his life, and once
every six weeks I send to, and receive from, my post office, four
hundred miles distant, my mails. In the intervals I imitate the
patriarchal life and character; that is to say, I hoe and reap my corn, live
in harmony with my neighbour, who is two hundred odd miles away,
and, figuratively speaking, enjoy life beneath my own vine and fig-tree.
Perhaps when the cool west wind blows in the long grass, the wild duck
whistle upon the lagoons, or a newspaper filled with gossip of the outer
world finds its way in to me, I am a little restless, but at other times I
can safely say I have few regrets. I have done with the world, and to
make my exile easier I have been permitted that greatest of all blessings,
a good wife. Who she is and how I won her you will discover when you
have perused this narrative, the compiling of which has been my
principal and, I might almost say, only recreation all through our more
than tedious winter. But now the snow has departed, spring is upon us,
clad in its mantle of luscious grass and accompanied by the twitterings
of birds and the music of innumerable small waterfalls, and I am a new
man. All nature is busy, the swallows are working overtime beneath the
eaves, and to-morrow, in proof of my remembrance, this book goes off
to you.
Whether I shall ever again see Dr. Nikola, the principal character in it,
is more than I can tell you. But I sincerely trust not. It is for the sake of
circumstances brought about by that extraordinary man that I have
doomed myself to perpetual exile; still I have no desire that he should
know of my sacrifice. Sometimes when I lie awake in the quiet watches
of the night I can hardly believe that the events of the last two years are
real. The horror of that time still presses heavily upon me, and if I live
to be a hundred I doubt if I shall outgrow it. When I tell you that even
the things, I mean the mysteries and weird experiences, into which we
thrust our impertinent noses in bygone days were absolutely as nothing
compared with those I have passed through since in Nikola's company,
you will at first feel inclined to believe that I am romancing. But I

know this, that by the time you have got my curious story by heart all
doubt on that score will have been swept away.
One last entreaty. Having read this book, do not attempt to find me, or
to set my position right with the world. Take my word for it, it is better
as it is.
And now, without further preamble, let us come to the story itself. God
bless you, and give you every happiness. Speak kindly of me to your
wife, and believe me until death finishes my career, if it does such a
thing, which Dr. Nikola would have me doubt,
Your affectionate friend,
Wilfred Bruce.
CHAPTER I.
How I Came To Meet Dr. Nikola
It was Saturday afternoon, about a quarter-past four o'clock if my
memory serves me, and the road, known as the Maloo, leading to the
Bubbling Well, that single breathing place of Shanghai, was crowded.
Fashionable barouches, C-spring buggies, spider-wheel dogcarts, to say
nothing of every species of 'rickshaw, bicycle, and pony, were
following each other in one long procession towards the Well. All the
European portion of Shanghai, and a considerable percentage of the
native, had turned out to witness the finish of the paper hunt, which,
though, not exciting in itself, was important as being the only
amusement the settlement boasted that afternoon. I had walked as far as
the Horse Bazaar myself, and had taken a 'rickshaw thence, more from
pride than because I could afford it. To tell the truth, which will pop out
sooner or later, however much I may try to prevent it, I was keeping up
appearances, and though I lay back in my vehicle and smoked my
cheroot with a princely air, I was painfully conscious of the fact that
when the ride should be paid for the exchequer would scarcely survive
the shock.

Since my arrival in Shanghai I had been more than usually unfortunate.
I had tried for every billet then vacant, from those choice pickings at
the top of the tree among the high gods, to