"This isn't the worst," he said quietly. "Not by far." If he were afraid, he didn't show it. He did seem particularly alert, scanning to left and right as we walked.
"Go on, Samuel. Tell me about purposefully blocking memories using hypnosis."
"I stumbled upon the process in my teens. I was, uh, experimenting with my abilities, and unfortunately instead of hypnotizing someone and making him think he was a woman, I blocked his memory of the entire day."
"You tried to make a man think he was a woman?" I giggled. "You can do that?"
"There are many things a hypnotist can do while a subject is in a hypnotized state. That was one of my favorites when I was about fifteen."
"How wicked of you."
"I can assure you, my wickedness is in the past. These days I mostly cure ladies of melancholy or hysteria," he said with a sigh. "You are a welcome change."
The street narrowed again and the air grew dank, dark. Very little light filtered through the fog from the setting sun. There were few gas lamps, and even fewer of them were lit. Those that were lit glowed in the miasma like disembodied orbs.
"So what happened after you tried to hypnotize that man into thinking he was a woman?"
"When the subject awoke from his hypnosis, something very odd happened. He became a narcoleptic."
"What!"
"Shhh."
Up ahead, Jack stopped. Samuel pulled me into a recessed doorway as Jack turned. My face pressed into Samuel's chest. I could feel his chin above my head, his heart thumping against my ear despite the layers of clothing. It beat in time to the rhythm of my blood.
He peered round the edge of the brickwork. "He's walking again."
We followed. "Did your subject fall asleep at particular moments, or did the narcoleptic episodes occur with no pattern whatsoever?"
"He fell asleep at...moments of great...excitement."
"How interesting. Does he still suffer from the episodes?"
"No."
"Did you cure him?"
"I tried but couldn't. He was cured in another way."
"How?"
A few heartbeats passed before he answered. "It's not something I can discuss with a lady."
"Samuel, you have to tell me. Whatever it is, I can assure you I won't be shocked."
He cleared his throat. "Very well. Yes, it took another event of great excitement to cure him. Excitement of a...male nature."
"You mean when he was aroused by a woman?"
He made a strangled sound that I took as embarrassed affirmation.
"I do believe you're blushing, Samuel." As was I, rather fiercely. Despite my attempt to sound worldly, I was very far from it. I knew in theory what happened between a man and a woman when they grew aroused, thanks to a book our biology tutor smuggled in one day while Miss Levine wasn't looking, but my practical knowledge was nil.
"Well," he said. "So. In conclusion, whatever produces narcolepsy within you, is the very thing that will cure you of it, albeit in a larger dose. My subject fell asleep when he was aroused, but it was the same emotion that ended his narcolepsy once and for all."
"A larger dose?"
"My subject was cured by excessive, ah, stimulation. There happened to be two women with him at the time."
"Two! Is that even possible?"
Poor Samuel ran his finger inside his collar and stretched his neck. "Please don't ask any more questions. There are some things a lady shouldn't hear."
What about a lady's companion?
"You need to expose yourself to whatever emotion it is that sets off your narcolepsy," he said. "Do you know what it is?"
"Fear, I think."
"Good. All you need now is to experience heightened terror, and you may be cured."
"That's something to look forward to," I said dryly.
"Who do you think did this to you? You must know someone capable of hypnosis. Someone with the natural talent for it like me, not learned as in Dr. Werner's case. Do you know who that might be?"
"No. Nor do I know why they would do this to me."
"Tell me about the Langleys. Perhaps it was one of them."
"It wasn't. I've only known them a few days, and I've been a narcoleptic all my life."
"Indeed? What about your family?"
"I'm not in contact with them at the moment. When I see them again I'll ask."
"A good idea."
"You say Dr. Werner doesn't believe in this kind of blockage, as put there by a hypnotist. That means you must have discussed it with him at some point."
"I have, but he tried to replicate it and it didn't work. When I suggested that only natural hypnotists could do it, he scoffed and said there were no such people."
"How odd."
"Very. I don't know of others, you see, and have heard of none. You don't know what it's like to be the only one who suffers from something."
How wrong he was.
"You're the first person I've mentioned my ability to," he said. "I have to say, it's such a relief that you're not laughing at me, or have run screaming in the other direction."
"I wouldn't do that. I may need you if I fall asleep out here."
We hurried after Jack, getting further and further into the depths of London's web of alleys. "I'm beginning to think we ought to turn back," Samuel said. "This part of London isn't safe, particularly after dark."
We had indeed walked into an even grimier part of the city. The cobbled streets were covered in some sort of slippery sludge. I had to hold onto Samuel's arm or I'd slip over. A sickly smell mingled with the fog that hung in the air. Dirty children's faces peered out of windows at us, their eyes sunken, their hair matted. Men and women sat or lay on the filthy ground, their hands buried in their too-thin clothes, their feet and heads bare, despite winter being in the air. One or two clutched my hem as I passed, begging for food, and Samuel quickly obliged with a few coins until he had no more to give.
I clung to his arm and slowed. "You're right. We should go back."
Just as I said it, Jack stopped to talk to a boy shivering in a recessed doorway. He nodded, and the lad disappeared inside, only to return a moment later with a tall man. A man with a big, crooked nose and a scar over one eye. He clamped Jack on the shoulder and Jack nodded a greeting. The thin lad scampered back inside and shut the door.
I looked around for closer hiding places and spotted an arched bridge nearby. If we stood beneath it, we would be able to hear their conversation. "Keep your head down and stay close to the walls where it's darker," I said to Samuel.
"What if he sees us?"
"He won't harm us, if that's your concern. I am quite sure of that."
"He won't harm you. I doubt any feelings of mercy will extend to me."
"Are you afraid of him?"
"No, I just don't want to have to fight him. I put those days behind me when I started at University College."
"You were a fighter?"
"I got into scrapes regularly and found the need to defend myself." He put a hand to his hat to shield his face. It didn't matter because Jack was too intent on his conversation to notice us. We tucked ourselves into the shadows of the archway and strained to hear.
"I confess," said Jack's companion. "It were me that done it. You goin' to drag me off to the rozzers then?" He sounded amused, cock-sure.
"I should. Or better yet, I'll take you home with me. August Langley will have a fitting punishment in mind."
"Stop speakin' like a toff." The man, Patrick I assumed, wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "You ain't one of 'em. Never will be. Think you're all 'igh and mighty livin' in the big 'ouse while we starve down 'ere in this rat-pit." He hawked and spat on the ground at Jack's feet.
Jack didn't move, but his shoulders stiffened slightly, and his hands closed into fists at his sides. "What did you take from his rooms?"
"I dunno, do I. Just some papers. I was told where to find 'em and find 'em I did."