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Shiel, M. P. (Matthew Phipps), 1865-1947

"Prince Zaleski"

I rose
undaunted, and calmly disclosed myself; during the moment of hush, of
wide-eyed paralysis that ensued, I declared that fully as I coincided
with their views in general, I found myself unable to regard their
methods with approval--these I could not but consider too rash, too
harsh, too premature. My voice was suddenly drowned by one universal,
earth-shaking roar of rage and contempt, during which I was surrounded
on all sides, seized, pinioned, and dashed on the central table. All
this time, in the hope and love of life, I passionately shouted that I
was not the only living being who shared in their secret. But my voice
was drowned, and drowned again, in the whirling tumult. None heard me.
A powerful and little-known anaesthetic--the means by which all their
murders have been accomplished--was now produced. A cloth, saturated
with the fluid, was placed on my mouth and nostrils. I was stifled.
Sense failed. The incubus of the universe blackened down upon my brain.
How I tugged at the mandrakes of speech! was a locked pugilist with
language! In the depth of my extremity the half-thought, I remember,
floated, like a mist, through my fading consciousness, that now
perhaps--now--there was silence around me; that _now,_ could my palsied
lips find dialect, I should be heard, and understood.


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