
Facts Concerning the Later Arthur Jermyn and His Family
ways. She, with an infant son born in Africa, had accompanied him back from the second
and longest of his trips, and had gone with him on the third and last, never returning. No
one had ever seen her closely, not even the servants; for her disposition had been violent
and singular. During her brief stay at Jermyn House she occupied a remote wing, and was
waited on by her husband alone. Sir Wade was, indeed, most peculiar in his solicitude for
his family; for when he returned to Africa he would permit no one to care for his young
son save a loathsome black woman from Guinea. Upon coming back, after the death of
Lady Jermyn, he himself assumed complete care of the boy.
But it was the talk of Sir Wade, especially when in his cups, which chiefly led his friends
to deem him mad. In a rational age like the eighteenth century it was unwise for a man of
learning to talk about wild sights and strange scenes under a Congo moon; of the gigantic
walls and pillars of a forgotten city, crumbling and vine-grown, and of damp, silent, stone
steps leading interminably down into the darkness of abysmal treasure-vaults and
inconceivable catacombs. Especially was it unwise to rave of the living things that might
haunt such a place; of creatures half of the jungle and half of the impiously aged city-
fabulous creatures which even a Pliny might describe with scepticism; things that might
have sprung up after the great apes had overrun the dying city with the walls and the
pillars, the vaults and the weird carvings. Yet after he came home for the last time Sir
Wade would speak of such matters with a shudderingly uncanny zest, mostly after his
third glass at the Knight's Head; boasting of what he had found in the jungle and of how
he had dwelt among terrible ruins known only to him. And finally he had spoken of the
living things in such a manner that he was taken to the madhouse. He had shown little
regret when shut into the barred room at Huntingdon, for his mind moved curiously. Ever
since his son had commenced to grow out of infancy, he had liked his home less and less,
till at last he had seemed to dread it. The Knight's Head had been his headquarters, and
when he was confined he expressed some vague gratitude as if for protection. Three years
later he died.
Wade Jermyn's son Philip was a highly peculiar person. Despite a strong physical
resemblance to his father, his appearance and conduct were in many particulars so coarse
that he was universally shunned. Though he did not inherit the madness which was feared
by some, he was densely stupid and given to brief periods of uncontrollable violence. In
frame he was small, but intensely powerful, and was of incredible agility. Twelve years
after succeeding to his title he married the daughter of his gamekeeper, a person said to
be of gypsy extraction, but before his son was born joined the navy as a common sailor,
completing the general disgust which his habits and misalliance had begun. After the
close of the American war he was heard of as sailor on a merchantman in the African
trade, having a kind of reputation for feats of strength and climbing, but finally
disappearing one night as his ship lay off the Congo coast.
In the son of Sir Philip Jermyn the now accepted family peculiarity took a strange and
fatal turn. Tall and fairly handsome, with a sort of weird Eastern grace despite certain
slight oddities of proportion, Robert Jermyn began life as a scholar and investigator. It
was he who first studied scientifically the vast collection of relics which his mad
grandfather had brought from Africa, and who made the family name as celebrated in