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The
Chaser
John Collier
Alan Austen, as nervous as a kitten,
went up certain dark and creaky stairs
in the neighborhood of Pell Street ,
and peered about for a long time on the dim
landing before he found the name he
wanted written obscurely on one of the doors.
He
pushed open this door, as he had been told to do,
and found himself in a
tiny
room,
which
contained
no
furniture
but
a
plain
kitchen
table,
a
rocking-
chair,
and
an
ordinary
chair.
On
one
of
the
dirty
buff-
colored
walls
were
a
couple
of
shelves,
containing in all
perhaps a dozen bottles and jars.
An
old
man
sat
in
the
rocking-
chair,
reading
a
newspaper.
Alan,
without
a
word,
handed him the card he had been given.
“
Sit down, Mr.
Austen,
”
said the old man
very politely.
“
I
am glad to make your
acquaintance.
”
“
Is
it true,
”
asked Alan,
“
that you have a certain
mixture that has
—
er
—
quite extraordinary
effects?
”
“
My
dear sir,
”
replied the old
man,
“
my stock in trade is
not very large
—
I
don
’
t
deal
in
laxatives
and
teething
mixtures
—
but
such
as
it
is,
it
is
varied.
I
think
nothing
I
sell
has
effects
which
could
be
precisely
described
as
ordinary.
”
“
Well, the fact
is
—”
began Alan.
“
Here,
for
example,
”
interrupted
the
old
man,
reaching
for
a
bottle
from
the
shelf.
“
Here
is
a
liquid
as
colorless
as
water,
almost
tasteless,
quite
imperceptible
in coffee,
wine, or any other beverage. It is also quite
imperceptible to any known
method of
autopsy.
”
“
Do
you mean it is a poison?
”
cried Alan, very much horrified.
“
Call
it
a
glove-cleaner
if
you
like,
”
said
the
old
man
indifferently.
“
Maybe
it will
clean gloves. I have never tried. One might call
it a life-cleaner. Lives
need cleaning
sometimes.
”
“
I
want nothing of that sort,
”
said Alan.
“
Probably
it is
just as well,
”
said the
old man.
“
Do you
know the price
of
this? For
one teaspoonful, which is sufficient, I ask five
thousand dollars. Never
less. Not a
penny less.
”
“
I
hope all your mixtures are not as
expensive,
”
said Alan
apprehensively.
“
Oh dear,
no,
”
said the old man.
“
It would be no good
charging that sort
of price for a love
potion, for example. Young people who need a love
potion very
seldom have five thousand
dollars. Otherwise they would not need a love
potion.
”
“
I
am glad to hear that,
”
said
Alan.
“
I
look
at
it
like
this,
”
said
the
old
man.
“
Please
a
customer
with
one
article,
and
he
will come
back when he needs
another.
Even if it is more
costly.
He will save
up for it, if
necessary.
”
“
So,
”
said Alan,
“
you really do
sell love potions?
”
“
If
I
did
not
sell
love
potions,
”
said
the
old
man,
reaching
for
another
bottle,
“
I should not have mentioned
the other matter to you. It is only when one is in
a
position to oblige that one can
afford to be so
confidential.
”
“
And
these potions,
”
said Alan.
“
They are not just
—
just
—
er
< br>—”
“
Oh,
no,
”
said the old man.
“
Their effects are
permanent, and extend far
beyond
casual
impulse.
But
they
include
it.
Bountifully,
insistently.
Everlastingly.
”
“
Dear
me!
”
said
Alan,
attempting
a
look
of
scientific
detachment.
very
interesting!
”
“
But consider the spiritual
side,
”
said the old man.
“
I do,
indeed,
”
said Alan.
“
For
indifference,
”
said
the
old
man,
“
they
substitute
devotion.
For
scorn,
adoration.
Give
one
tiny
measure
of
this
to
the
young
lady
—
its
flavor
is
imperceptible
in
orange
juice,
soup,
or
cocktails
—
and
however
gay
and
giddy
she
is,
she will change altogether. She will
want nothing but solitude, and
you.
”
“
I
can hardly believe it,
”
said
Alan.
“
She is so fond of
parties.
”
“
She
will not like them any
more,
”
said the old man.
“
She will be afraid
of the pretty girls you may
meet.
”
“
She
will actually be jealous?
”
cried Alan in a rapture.
“
Of
me?
”
“
Yes, she will
want to be everything to
you.
”
“
She
is, already. Only she
doesn
’
t care about
it.
”
“
She will, when
she has taken this. She will care intensely. You
will be her
sole interest in
life.
”
“
Won
derful!
”
cried Alan.
“
She
will
want
to
know
all
you
do,
”
said
the
old
man.
“
All
that
has
happened
to
you
during
the day. Every
word of it.
She will want
to
know what
you
are
thinking
about, why you
smile suddenly, why you are looking
sad.
”
“
That is
love!
”
cried Alan.
“
Yes,
”
said the old man.
“
How
carefully she will look after you! She will
never allow you to be tired, to sit in
a draught, to neglect your food. If you are
an
hour
late,
she
will
be
terrified.
She
will
think
you
are
killed,
or
that
some
siren
has caught you.
”
“
I can hardly imagine Diana
like that!
”
cried Alan,
overwhelmed with joy.
“
You
will
not
have
to
use
your
imagination,
”
said
the
old
man.
“
And,
by
the
way, since there are
always sirens, if by any chance you should, later
on, slip a
little, you need not worry.
She will forgive you, in the end. She will be
terribly
hurt, of course, but she will
forgive you
—
in the
end.
”
“
That will not
happen,
”
said Alan
fervently.
“
Of
course
not,
”
said
the
old
man.
“
But,
if
it
did,
you
need
not
worry.
She
would
never
divorce
you.
Oh,
no!
And,
of
course,
she
herself
will
never
give
you
the
least, the very least,
grounds for
—
uneasiness.
”
“
And how
much,
”
said Alan,
“
is this wonderful
mixture?
”
“
It
is
not
as
dear,
”
said
the
old
man,
“
as
the
glove-cleaner,
or
life-cleaner,
as I sometimes
call it. No. That is five thousand dollars, never
a penny less. One
has to be older than
you are, to indulge in that sort of thing. One has
to save up
for
it.
”
“
But the love
potion?
”
said Alan.
“
Oh,
that,
”
said the old man,
opening the drawer in the kitchen table, and
taking out a tiny, rather dirty-looking
phial.
“
That is just a
dollar.
”
“
I
can
’
t tell you how grateful
I am,
”
said Alan, watching
him fill it.
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