CHAPTER ONE

A Shocking Confession

Maybe he was mad. Maybe he had a sixth sense. Or was he really haunted? I He told me the first part of the story, and I saw the last part with my own eyes. At school my friend Haldane and I hated a boy called Visger. When we did something wrong, he always told the teacher. One day we stole some cherries from a tree. 'Do you know who did it, Visger?' the teacher asked. 'It was Haldane and Winston,' he replied. Later, Haldane asked him how he knew it was us. 'I didn't know,' he said. 'I just felt certain. And I was right.' Haldane and I grew up.

Visger became a vegetarian and never drank alcohol. He also became Sir George Visger. When we all left Oxford University, I went away to India. After a year I came back and wanted to see Haldane. He was always happy, kind, and honest. I wanted to see the smile in his blue eyes again and hear his happy laugh, so I went to visit him in London. But this time he did not laugh. He was miserable, his face was pale and he looked weak and ill. He was packing his things, and there were lots of big boxes full of furniture and books around the house. 'I'm moving,' he said. I don't like this house. There's something strange about it; I'm going tomorrow.' 'Let's go out and have some dinner,' I said.

'I'm too busy.' He looked nervously around the room. 'Look, I'm really happy to see you, but... Why don't you go to the restaurant and bring back some food?' When I came back, we sat by the fire and ate the food. I tried to tell jokes and he tried to laugh, but sometimes he looked into the shadows in the corners of the room. We finished our meal, and then I said, 'Well?' 'What's the matter?' 'You tell me,' I answered. He was silent. Again he looked into the shadows. 'You're very nervous,' I said. 'What is it? Drink? Gambling? Women? Tell me, or go and tell your doctor. You're ill, my friend.' 'I won't be your friend if you talk like that.' 'Well, I am your friend, and something is wrong. Come on, tell me.' But he did not tell me anything. He asked me to stay for the night, but I had a room in a hotel so I left him. When I returned the next morning, he was gone and some men were putting his boxes into a van. Haldane did not leave his new address.

I saw him again more than a year later. He came to see me early one morning before breakfast. He looked really bad, worse than before. His face was thin and white, like a ghost, and his hands were shaking. I invited him to have breakfast with me, but I did not ask him any questions because I knew he wanted to tell me something. I made coffee, talked and waited. 'I'm going to kill myself,' he began. 'Don't worry, I won't do it here or now. I'll do it when it's necessary, when I can't continue to live any more. And I want somebody to know why. Can I tell you?' 'Yes, of course,' I said, astonished.' '

You must promise not to tell anybody while I'm alive,' he said. 'I promise.' He looked at the fire silently. 'It's difficult to begin,' he said. 'You remember George Visger, don't you?' 'Yes. I haven't seen him for a long time, but somebody told me he went to an island to teach vegetarianism to the cannibals.' I laughed. 'Anyway, he's gone.' Haldane did not laugh. 'Yes, he's gone. But not to an island. He's dead?’ 'Dead? How?