diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:50 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:50 -0700 |
| commit | a6634133c2a84c61306c712a29a5c3d863d53019 (patch) | |
| tree | 4ee7acb8afb407cbf8b1477bbf48e9355c997288 /10624-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '10624-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 10624-h/10624-h.htm | 9152 |
1 files changed, 9152 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/10624-h/10624-h.htm b/10624-h/10624-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..28684af --- /dev/null +++ b/10624-h/10624-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9152 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Three John Silence Stories, by Algernon Blackwood</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10624 ***</div> + +<h1>Three John Silence Stories</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Algernon Blackwood</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">Case I: A Psychical Invasion</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">Case II: Ancient Sorceries</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">Case III: The Nemesis of Fire</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +To<br/> +M.L.W.<br/> +The Original of John Silence<br/> +and<br/> +My Companion in Many Adventures +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CASE I: A PSYCHICAL INVASION</h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p> +“And what is it makes you think I could be of use in this particular +case?” asked Dr. John Silence, looking across somewhat sceptically at the +Swedish lady in the chair facing him. +</p> + +<p> +“Your sympathetic heart and your knowledge of occultism—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, please—that dreadful word!” he interrupted, holding up a +finger with a gesture of impatience. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then,” she laughed, “your wonderful clairvoyant gift +and your trained psychic knowledge of the processes by which a personality may +be disintegrated and destroyed—these strange studies you’ve been +experimenting with all these years—” +</p> + +<p> +“If it’s only a case of multiple personality I must really cry +off,” interrupted the doctor again hastily, a bored expression in his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not that; now, please, be serious, for I want your +help,” she said; “and if I choose my words poorly you must be +patient with my ignorance. The case I know will interest you, and no one else +could deal with it so well. In fact, no ordinary professional man could deal +with it at all, for I know of no treatment nor medicine that can restore a lost +sense of humour!” +</p> + +<p> +“You begin to interest me with your ‘case,’” he +replied, and made himself comfortable to listen. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Sivendson drew a sigh of contentment as she watched him go to the tube and +heard him tell the servant he was not to be disturbed. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you have read my thoughts already,” she said; +“your intuitive knowledge of what goes on in other people’s minds +is positively uncanny.” +</p> + +<p> +Her friend shook his head and smiled as he drew his chair up to a convenient +position and prepared to listen attentively to what she had to say. He closed +his eyes, as he always did when he wished to absorb the real meaning of a +recital that might be inadequately expressed, for by this method he found it +easier to set himself in tune with the living thoughts that lay behind the +broken words. +</p> + +<p> +By his friends John Silence was regarded as an eccentric, because he was rich +by accident, and by choice—a doctor. That a man of independent means +should devote his time to doctoring, chiefly doctoring folk who could not pay, +passed their comprehension entirely. The native nobility of a soul whose first +desire was to help those who could not help themselves, puzzled them. After +that, it irritated them, and, greatly to his own satisfaction, they left him to +his own devices. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence was a free-lance, though, among doctors, having neither +consulting-room, bookkeeper, nor professional manner. He took no fees, being at +heart a genuine philanthropist, yet at the same time did no harm to his +fellow-practitioners, because he only accepted unremunerative cases, and cases +that interested him for some very special reason. He argued that the rich could +pay, and the very poor could avail themselves of organised charity, but that a +very large class of ill-paid, self-respecting workers, often followers of the +arts, could not afford the price of a week’s comforts merely to be told +to travel. And it was these he desired to help: cases often requiring special +and patient study—things no doctor can give for a guinea, and that no one +would dream of expecting him to give. +</p> + +<p> +But there was another side to his personality and practice, and one with which +we are now more directly concerned; for the cases that especially appealed to +him were of no ordinary kind, but rather of that intangible, elusive, and +difficult nature best described as psychical afflictions; and, though he would +have been the last person himself to approve of the title, it was beyond +question that he was known more or less generally as the “Psychic +Doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +In order to grapple with cases of this peculiar kind, he had submitted himself +to a long and severe training, at once physical, mental, and spiritual. What +precisely this training had been, or where undergone, no one seemed to +know,—for he never spoke of it, as, indeed, he betrayed no single other +characteristic of the charlatan,—but the fact that it had involved a +total disappearance from the world for five years, and that after he returned +and began his singular practice no one ever dreamed of applying to him the so +easily acquired epithet of quack, spoke much for the seriousness of his strange +quest and also for the genuineness of his attainments. +</p> + +<p> +For the modern psychical researcher he felt the calm tolerance of the +“man who knows.” There was a trace of pity in his +voice—contempt he never showed—when he spoke of their methods. +</p> + +<p> +“This classification of results is uninspired work at best,” he +said once to me, when I had been his confidential assistant for some years. +“It leads nowhere, and after a hundred years will lead nowhere. It is +playing with the wrong end of a rather dangerous toy. Far better, it would be, +to examine the causes, and then the results would so easily slip into place and +explain themselves. For the sources are accessible, and open to all who have +the courage to lead the life that alone makes practical investigation safe and +possible.” +</p> + +<p> +And towards the question of clairvoyance, too, his attitude was significantly +sane, for he knew how extremely rare the genuine power was, and that what is +commonly called clairvoyance is nothing more than a keen power of visualising. +</p> + +<p> +“It connotes a slightly increased sensibility, nothing more,” he +would say. “The true clairvoyant deplores his power, recognising that it +adds a new horror to life, and is in the nature of an affliction. And you will +find this always to be the real test.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus it was that John Silence, this singularly developed doctor, was able to +select his cases with a clear knowledge of the difference between mere +hysterical delusion and the kind of psychical affliction that claimed his +special powers. It was never necessary for him to resort to the cheap mysteries +of divination; for, as I have heard him observe, after the solution of some +peculiarly intricate problem— +</p> + +<p> +“Systems of divination, from geomancy down to reading by tea-leaves, are +merely so many methods of obscuring the outer vision, in order that the inner +vision may become open. Once the method is mastered, no system is necessary at +all.” +</p> + +<p> +And the words were significant of the methods of this remarkable man, the +keynote of whose power lay, perhaps, more than anything else, in the knowledge, +first, that thought can act at a distance, and, secondly, that thought is +dynamic and can accomplish material results. +</p> + +<p> +“Learn how to <i>think</i>,” he would have expressed it, “and +you have learned to tap power at its source.” +</p> + +<p> +To look at—he was now past forty—he was sparely built, with +speaking brown eyes in which shone the light of knowledge and self-confidence, +while at the same time they made one think of that wondrous gentleness seen +most often in the eyes of animals. A close beard concealed the mouth without +disguising the grim determination of lips and jaw, and the face somehow +conveyed an impression of transparency, almost of light, so delicately were the +features refined away. On the fine forehead was that indefinable touch of peace +that comes from identifying the mind with what is permanent in the soul, and +letting the impermanent slip by without power to wound or distress; while, from +his manner,—so gentle, quiet, sympathetic,—few could have guessed +the strength of purpose that burned within like a great flame. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I should describe it as a psychical case,” continued the +Swedish lady, obviously trying to explain herself very intelligently, +“and just the kind you like. I mean a case where the cause is hidden deep +down in some spiritual distress, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“But the symptoms first, please, my dear Svenska,” he interrupted, +with a strangely compelling seriousness of manner, “and your deductions +afterwards.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned round sharply on the edge of her chair and looked him in the face, +lowering her voice to prevent her emotion betraying itself too obviously. +</p> + +<p> +“In my opinion there’s only one symptom,” she half whispered, +as though telling something disagreeable—“fear—simply +fear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Physical fear?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not; though how can I say? I think it’s a horror in the +psychical region. It’s no ordinary delusion; the man is quite sane; but +he lives in mortal terror of something—” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you mean by his ‘psychical +region,’” said the doctor, with a smile; “though I suppose +you wish me to understand that his spiritual, and not his mental, processes are +affected. Anyhow, try and tell me briefly and pointedly what you know about the +man, his symptoms, his need for help, my peculiar help, that is, and all that +seems vital in the case. I promise to listen devotedly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am trying,” she continued earnestly, “but must do so in my +own words and trust to your intelligence to disentangle as I go along. He is a +young author, and lives in a tiny house off Putney Heath somewhere. He writes +humorous stories—quite a genre of his own: Pender—you must have +heard the name—Felix Pender? Oh, the man had a great gift, and married on +the strength of it; his future seemed assured. I say ‘had,’ for +quite suddenly his talent utterly failed him. Worse, it became transformed into +its opposite. He can no longer write a line in the old way that was bringing +him success—” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence opened his eyes for a second and looked at her. +</p> + +<p> +“He still writes, then? The force has not gone?” he asked briefly, +and then closed his eyes again to listen. +</p> + +<p> +“He works like a fury,” she went on, “but produces +nothing”—she hesitated a moment—“nothing that he can +use or sell. His earnings have practically ceased, and he makes a precarious +living by book-reviewing and odd jobs—very odd, some of them. Yet, I am +certain his talent has not really deserted him finally, but is +merely—” +</p> + +<p> +Again Mrs. Sivendson hesitated for the appropriate word. +</p> + +<p> +“In abeyance,” he suggested, without opening his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Obliterated,” she went on, after a moment to weigh the word, +“merely obliterated by something else—” +</p> + +<p> +“By some one else?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I knew. All I can say is that he is haunted, and temporarily his +sense of humour is shrouded—gone—replaced by something dreadful +that writes other things. Unless something competent is done, he will simply +starve to death. Yet he is afraid to go to a doctor for fear of being +pronounced insane; and, anyhow, a man can hardly ask a doctor to take a guinea +to restore a vanished sense of humour, can he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Has he tried any one at all—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not doctors yet. He tried some clergymen and religious people; but they +know so little and have so little intelligent sympathy. And most of them are so +busy balancing on their own little pedestals—” +</p> + +<p> +John Silence stopped her tirade with a gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“And how is it that you know so much about him?” he asked gently. +</p> + +<p> +“I know Mrs. Pender well—I knew her before she married +him—” +</p> + +<p> +“And is she a cause, perhaps?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least. She is devoted; a woman very well educated, though +without being really intelligent, and with so little sense of humour herself +that she always laughs at the wrong places. But she has nothing to do with the +cause of his distress; and, indeed, has chiefly guessed it from observing him, +rather than from what little he has told her. And he, you know, is a really +lovable fellow, hard-working, patient—altogether worth saving.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence opened his eyes and went over to ring for tea. He did not know very +much more about the case of the humorist than when he first sat down to listen; +but he realised that no amount of words from his Swedish friend would help to +reveal the real facts. A personal interview with the author himself could alone +do that. +</p> + +<p> +“All humorists are worth saving,” he said with a smile, as she +poured out tea. “We can’t afford to lose a single one in these +strenuous days. I will go and see your friend at the first opportunity.” +</p> + +<p> +She thanked him elaborately, effusively, with many words, and he, with much +difficulty, kept the conversation thenceforward strictly to the teapot. +</p> + +<p> +And, as a result of this conversation, and a little more he had gathered by +means best known to himself and his secretary, he was whizzing in his motor-car +one afternoon a few days later up the Putney Hill to have his first interview +with Felix Pender, the humorous writer who was the victim of some mysterious +malady in his “psychical region” that had obliterated his sense of +the comic and threatened to wreck his life and destroy his talent. And his +desire to help was probably of equal strength with his desire to know and to +investigate. +</p> + +<p> +The motor stopped with a deep purring sound, as though a great black panther +lay concealed within its hood, and the doctor—the “psychic +doctor,” as he was sometimes called—stepped out through the +gathering fog, and walked across the tiny garden that held a blackened fir tree +and a stunted laurel shrubbery. The house was very small, and it was some time +before any one answered the bell. Then, suddenly, a light appeared in the hall, +and he saw a pretty little woman standing on the top step begging him to come +in. She was dressed in grey, and the gaslight fell on a mass of deliberately +brushed light hair. Stuffed, dusty birds, and a shabby array of African spears, +hung on the wall behind her. A hat-rack, with a bronze plate full of very large +cards, led his eye swiftly to a dark staircase beyond. Mrs. Pender had round +eyes like a child’s, and she greeted him with an effusiveness that barely +concealed her emotion, yet strove to appear naturally cordial. Evidently she +had been looking out for his arrival, and had outrun the servant girl. She was +a little breathless. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you’ve not been kept waiting—I think it’s +<i>most</i> good of you to come—” she began, and then stopped sharp +when she saw his face in the gaslight. There was something in Dr. +Silence’s look that did not encourage mere talk. He was in earnest now, +if ever man was. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, Mrs. Pender,” he said, with a quiet smile that won +confidence, yet deprecated unnecessary words, “the fog delayed me a +little. I am glad to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +They went into a dingy sitting-room at the back of the house, neatly furnished +but depressing. Books stood in a row upon the mantelpiece. The fire had +evidently just been lit. It smoked in great puffs into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Sivendson said she thought you might be able to come,” +ventured the little woman again, looking up engagingly into his face and +betraying anxiety and eagerness in every gesture. “But I hardly dared to +believe it. I think it is really too good of you. My husband’s case is so +peculiar that—well, you know, I am quite sure any <i>ordinary</i> doctor +would say at once the asylum—” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t he in, then?” asked Dr. Silence gently. +</p> + +<p> +“In the asylum?” she gasped. “Oh dear, no—not +yet!” +</p> + +<p> +“In the house, I meant,” he laughed. +</p> + +<p> +She gave a great sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll be back any minute now,” she replied, obviously +relieved to see him laugh; “but the fact is, we didn’t expect you +so early—I mean, my husband hardly thought you would come at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am always delighted to come—when I am really wanted, and can be +of help,” he said quickly; “and, perhaps, it’s all for the +best that your husband is out, for now that we are alone you can tell me +something about his difficulties. So far, you know, I have heard very +little.” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice trembled as she thanked him, and when he came and took a chair close +beside her she actually had difficulty in finding words with which to begin. +</p> + +<p> +“In the first place,” she began timidly, and then continuing with a +nervous incoherent rush of words, “he will be simply delighted that +you’ve really come, because he said you were the only person he would +consent to see at all—the only doctor, I mean. But, of course, he +doesn’t know how frightened I am, or how much I have noticed. He pretends +with me that it’s just a nervous breakdown, and I’m sure he +doesn’t realise all the odd things I’ve noticed him doing. But the +main thing, I suppose—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, the main thing, Mrs. Pender,” he said, encouragingly, +noticing her hesitation. +</p> + +<p> +“—is that he thinks we are not alone in the house. That’s the +chief thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me more facts—just facts.” +</p> + +<p> +“It began last summer when I came back from Ireland; he had been here +alone for six weeks, and I thought him looking tired and queer—ragged and +scattered about the face, if you know what I mean, and his manner worn out. He +said he had been writing hard, but his inspiration had somehow failed him, and +he was dissatisfied with his work. His sense of humour was leaving him, or +changing into something else, he said. There was something in the house, he +declared, that”—she emphasised the words—“prevented his +feeling funny.” +</p> + +<p> +“Something in the house that prevented his feeling funny,” repeated +the doctor. “Ah, now we’re getting to the heart of it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she resumed vaguely, “that’s what he kept +saying.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what was it he <i>did</i> that you thought strange?” he asked +sympathetically. “Be brief, or he may be here before you finish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very small things, but significant it seemed to me. He changed his +workroom from the library, as we call it, to the sitting-room. He said all his +characters became wrong and terrible in the library; they altered, so that he +felt like writing tragedies—vile, debased tragedies, the tragedies of +broken souls. But now he says the same of the sitting-room, and he’s gone +back to the library.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +“You see, there’s so little I can tell you,” she went on, +with increasing speed and countless gestures. “I mean it’s only +very small things he does and says that are queer. What frightens me is that he +assumes there is some one else in the house all the time—some one I never +see. He does not actually say so, but on the stairs I’ve seen him +standing aside to let some one pass; I’ve seen him open a door to let +some one in or out; and often in our bedrooms he puts chairs about as though +for some one else to sit in. Oh—oh yes, and once or twice,” she +cried—“once or twice—” +</p> + +<p> +She paused, and looked about her with a startled air. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” +</p> + +<p> +“Once or twice,” she resumed hurriedly, as though she heard a sound +that alarmed her, “I’ve heard him running—coming in and out +of the rooms breathless as if something were after him—” +</p> + +<p> +The door opened while she was still speaking, cutting her words off in the +middle, and a man came into the room. He was dark and clean-shaven, sallow +rather, with the eyes of imagination, and dark hair growing scantily about the +temples. He was dressed in a shabby tweed suit, and wore an untidy flannel +collar at the neck. The dominant expression of his face was +startled—hunted; an expression that might any moment leap into the +dreadful stare of terror and announce a total loss of self-control. +</p> + +<p> +The moment he saw his visitor a smile spread over his worn features, and he +advanced to shake hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I hoped you would come; Mrs. Sivendson said you might be able to find +time,” he said simply. His voice was thin and needy. “I am very +glad to see you, Dr. Silence. It is ‘Doctor,’ is it not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I am entitled to the description,” laughed the other, +“but I rarely get it. You know, I do not practise as a regular thing; +that is, I only take cases that specially interest me, or—” +</p> + +<p> +He did not finish the sentence, for the men exchanged a glance of sympathy that +rendered it unnecessary. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard of your great kindness.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s my hobby,” said the other quickly, “and my +privilege.” +</p> + +<p> +“I trust you will still think so when you have heard what I have to tell +you,” continued the author, a little wearily. He led the way across the +hall into the little smoking-room where they could talk freely and undisturbed. +</p> + +<p> +In the smoking-room, the door shut and privacy about them, Fender’s +attitude changed somewhat, and his manner became very grave. The doctor sat +opposite, where he could watch his face. Already, he saw, it looked more +haggard. Evidently it cost him much to refer to his trouble at all. +</p> + +<p> +“What I have is, in my belief, a profound spiritual affliction,” he +began quite bluntly, looking straight into the other’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw that at once,” Dr. Silence said. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you saw that, of course; my atmosphere must convey that much to any +one with psychic perceptions. Besides which, I feel sure from all I’ve +heard, that you are really a soul-doctor, are you not, more than a healer +merely of the body?” +</p> + +<p> +“You think of me too highly,” returned the other; “though I +prefer cases, as you know, in which the spirit is disturbed first, the body +afterwards.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand, yes. Well, I have experienced a curious disturbance +in—not in my physical region primarily. I mean my nerves are all right, +and my body is all right. I have no delusions exactly, but my spirit is +tortured by a calamitous fear which first came upon me in a strange +manner.” +</p> + +<p> +John Silence leaned forward a moment and took the speaker’s hand and held +it in his own for a few brief seconds, closing his eyes as he did so. He was +not feeling his pulse, or doing any of the things that doctors ordinarily do; +he was merely absorbing into himself the main note of the man’s mental +condition, so as to get completely his own point of view, and thus be able to +treat his case with true sympathy. A very close observer might perhaps have +noticed that a slight tremor ran through his frame after he had held the hand +for a few seconds. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me quite frankly, Mr. Pender,” he said soothingly, releasing +the hand, and with deep attention in his manner, “tell me all the steps +that led to the beginning of this invasion. I mean tell me what the particular +drug was, and why you took it, and how it affected you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you know it began with a drug!” cried the author, with +undisguised astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“I only know from what I observe in you, and in its effect upon myself. +You are in a surprising psychical condition. Certain portions of your +atmosphere are vibrating at a far greater rate than others. This is the effect +of a drug, but of no ordinary drug. Allow me to finish, please. If the higher +rate of vibration spreads all over, you will become, of course, permanently +cognisant of a much larger world than the one you know normally. If, on the +other hand, the rapid portion sinks back to the usual rate, you will lose these +occasional increased perceptions you now have.” +</p> + +<p> +“You amaze me!” exclaimed the author; “for your words exactly +describe what I have been feeling—” +</p> + +<p> +“I mention this only in passing, and to give you confidence before you +approach the account of your real affliction,” continued the doctor. +“All perception, as you know, is the result of vibrations; and +clairvoyance simply means becoming sensitive to an increased scale of +vibrations. The awakening of the inner senses we hear so much about means no +more than that. Your partial clairvoyance is easily explained. The only thing +that puzzles me is how you managed to procure the drug, for it is not easy to +get in pure form, and no adulterated tincture could have given you the terrific +impetus I see you have acquired. But, please proceed now and tell me your story +in your own way.” +</p> + +<p> +“This <i>Cannabis indica</i>,” the author went on, “came into +my possession last autumn while my wife was away. I need not explain how I got +it, for that has no importance; but it was the genuine fluid extract, and I +could not resist the temptation to make an experiment. One of its effects, as +you know, is to induce torrential laughter—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes: sometimes.” +</p> + +<p> +“—I am a writer of humorous tales, and I wished to increase my own +sense of laughter—to see the ludicrous from an abnormal point of view. I +wished to study it a bit, if possible, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me!” +</p> + +<p> +“I took an experimental dose. I starved for six hours to hasten the +effect, locked myself into this room, and gave orders not to be disturbed. Then +I swallowed the stuff and waited.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the effect?” +</p> + +<p> +“I waited one hour, two, three, four, five hours. Nothing happened. No +laughter came, but only a great weariness instead. Nothing in the room or in my +thoughts came within a hundred miles of a humorous aspect.” +</p> + +<p> +“Always a most uncertain drug,” interrupted the doctor. “We +make very small use of it on that account.” +</p> + +<p> +“At two o’clock in the morning I felt so hungry and tired that I +decided to give up the experiment and wait no longer. I drank some milk and +went upstairs to bed. I felt flat and disappointed. I fell asleep at once and +must have slept for about an hour, when I awoke suddenly with a great noise in +my ears. It was the noise of my own laughter! I was simply shaking with +merriment. At first I was bewildered and thought I had been laughing in dreams, +but a moment later I remembered the drug, and was delighted to think that after +all I had got an effect. It had been working all along, only I had +miscalculated the time. The only unpleasant thing <i>then</i> was an odd +feeling that I had not waked naturally, but had been wakened by some one +else—deliberately. This came to me as a certainty in the middle of my +noisy laughter and distressed me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any impression who it could have been?” asked the doctor, now +listening with close attention to every word, very much on the alert. +</p> + +<p> +Pender hesitated and tried to smile. He brushed his hair from his forehead with +a nervous gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“You must tell me all your impressions, even your fancies; they are quite +as important as your certainties.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had a vague idea that it was some one connected with my forgotten +dream, some one who had been at me in my sleep, some one of great strength and +great ability—of great force—quite an unusual +personality—and, I was certain, too—a woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“A good woman?” asked John Silence quietly. +</p> + +<p> +Pender started a little at the question and his sallow face flushed; it seemed +to surprise him. But he shook his head quickly with an indefinable look of +horror. +</p> + +<p> +“Evil,” he answered briefly, “appallingly evil, and yet +mingled with the sheer wickedness of it was also a certain +perverseness—the perversity of the unbalanced mind.” +</p> + +<p> +He hesitated a moment and looked up sharply at his interlocutor. A shade of +suspicion showed itself in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” laughed the doctor, “you need not fear that I’m +merely humouring you, or think you mad. Far from it. Your story interests me +exceedingly and you furnish me unconsciously with a number of clues as you tell +it. You see, I possess some knowledge of my own as to these psychic +byways.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was shaking with such violent laughter,” continued the narrator, +reassured in a moment, “though with no clear idea what was amusing me, +that I had the greatest difficulty in getting up for the matches, and was +afraid I should frighten the servants overhead with my explosions. When the gas +was lit I found the room empty, of course, and the door locked as usual. Then I +half dressed and went out on to the landing, my hilarity better under control, +and proceeded to go downstairs. I wished to record my sensations. I stuffed a +handkerchief into my mouth so as not to scream aloud and communicate my +hysterics to the entire household.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the presence of this—this—?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was hanging about me all the time,” said Pender, “but for +the moment it seemed to have withdrawn. Probably, too, my laughter killed all +other emotions.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how long did you take getting downstairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was just coming to that. I see you know all my ‘symptoms’ +in advance, as it were; for, of course, I thought I should never get to the +bottom. Each step seemed to take five minutes, and crossing the narrow hall at +the foot of the stairs—well, I could have sworn it was half an +hour’s journey had not my watch certified that it was a few seconds. Yet +I walked fast and tried to push on. It was no good. I walked apparently without +advancing, and at that rate it would have taken me a week to get down Putney +Hill.” +</p> + +<p> +“An experimental dose radically alters the scale of time and space +sometimes—” +</p> + +<p> +“But, when at last I got into my study and lit the gas, the change came +horridly, and sudden as a flash of lightning. It was like a douche of icy +water, and in the middle of this storm of laughter—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; what?” asked the doctor, leaning forward and peering into his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“—I was overwhelmed with terror,” said Pender, lowering his +reedy voice at the mere recollection of it. +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment and mopped his forehead. The scared, hunted look in his eyes +now dominated the whole face. Yet, all the time, the corners of his mouth +hinted of possible laughter as though the recollection of that merriment still +amused him. The combination of fear and laughter in his face was very curious, +and lent great conviction to his story; it also lent a bizarre expression of +horror to his gestures. +</p> + +<p> +“Terror, was it?” repeated the doctor soothingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, terror; for, though the Thing that woke me seemed to have gone, the +memory of it still frightened me, and I collapsed into a chair. Then I locked +the door and tried to reason with myself, but the drug made my movements so +prolonged that it took me five minutes to reach the door, and another five to +get back to the chair again. The laughter, too, kept bubbling up inside +me—great wholesome laughter that shook me like gusts of wind—so +that even my terror almost made me laugh. Oh, but I may tell you, Dr. Silence, +it was altogether vile, that mixture of fear and laughter, altogether vile! +</p> + +<p> +“Then, all at once, the things in the room again presented their funny +side to me and set me off laughing more furiously than ever. The bookcase was +ludicrous, the arm-chair a perfect clown, the way the clock looked at me on the +mantelpiece too comic for words; the arrangement of papers and inkstand on the +desk tickled me till I roared and shook and held my sides and the tears +streamed down my cheeks. And that footstool! Oh, that absurd footstool!” +</p> + +<p> +He lay back in his chair, laughing to himself and holding up his hands at the +thought of it, and at the sight of him Dr. Silence laughed, too. +</p> + +<p> +“Go on, please,” he said, “I quite understand. I know +something myself of the hashish laughter.” +</p> + +<p> +The author pulled himself together and resumed, his face growing quickly grave +again. +</p> + +<p> +“So, you see, side by side with this extravagant, apparently causeless +merriment, there was also an extravagant, apparently causeless terror. The drug +produced the laughter, I knew; but what brought in the terror I could not +imagine. Everywhere behind the fun lay the fear. It was terror masked by cap +and bells; and I became the playground for two opposing emotions, armed and +fighting to the death. Gradually, then, the impression grew in me that this +fear was caused by the invasion—so you called it just now—of the +‘person’ who had wakened me: she was utterly evil; inimical to my +soul, or at least to all in me that wished for good. There I stood, sweating +and trembling, laughing at everything in the room, yet all the while with this +white terror mastering my heart. And this creature was putting—putting +her—” +</p> + +<p> +He hesitated again, using his handkerchief freely. +</p> + +<p> +“Putting what?” +</p> + +<p> +“—putting ideas into my mind,” he went on glancing nervously +about the room. “Actually tapping my thought-stream so as to switch off +the usual current and inject her own. How mad that sounds! I know it, but +it’s true. It’s the only way I can express it. Moreover, while the +operation terrified me, the skill with which it was accomplished filled me +afresh with laughter at the clumsiness of men by comparison. Our ignorant, +bungling methods of teaching the minds of others, of inculcating ideas, and so +on, overwhelmed me with laughter when I understood this superior and diabolical +method. Yet my laughter seemed hollow and ghastly, and ideas of evil and +tragedy trod close upon the heels of the comic. Oh, doctor, I tell you again, +it was unnerving!” +</p> + +<p> +John Silence sat with his head thrust forward to catch every word of the story +which the other continued to pour out in nervous, jerky sentences and lowered +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“You saw nothing—no one—all this time?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not with my eyes. There was no visual hallucination. But in my mind +there began to grow the vivid picture of a woman—large, dark-skinned, +with white teeth and masculine features, and one eye—the left—so +drooping as to appear almost closed. Oh, such a face—!” +</p> + +<p> +“A face you would recognise again?” +</p> + +<p> +Pender laughed dreadfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I could forget it,” he whispered, “I only wish I +could forget it!” Then he sat forward in his chair suddenly, and grasped +the doctor’s hand with an emotional gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“I <i>must</i> tell you how grateful I am for your patience and +sympathy,” he cried, with a tremor in his voice, “and—that +you do not think me mad. I have told no one else a quarter of all this, and the +mere freedom of speech—the relief of sharing my affliction with +another—has helped me already more than I can possibly say.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence pressed his hand and looked steadily into the frightened eyes. His +voice was very gentle when he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Your case, you know, is very singular, but of absorbing interest to +me,” he said, “for it threatens, not your physical existence but +the temple of your psychical existence—the inner life. Your mind would +not be permanently affected here and now, in this world; but in the existence +after the body is left behind, you might wake up with your spirit so twisted, +so distorted, so befouled, that you would be <i>spiritually insane</i>—a +far more radical condition than merely being insane here.” +</p> + +<p> +There came a strange hush over the room, and between the two men sitting there +facing one another. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you really mean—Good Lord!” stammered the author as soon +as he could find his tongue. +</p> + +<p> +“What I mean in detail will keep till a little later, and I need only say +now that I should not have spoken in this way unless I were quite positive of +being able to help you. Oh, there’s no doubt as to that, believe me. In +the first place, I am very familiar with the workings of this extraordinary +drug, this drug which has had the chance effect of opening you up to the forces +of another region; and, in the second, I have a firm belief in the reality of +supersensuous occurrences as well as considerable knowledge of psychic +processes acquired by long and painful experiment. The rest is, or should be, +merely sympathetic treatment and practical application. The hashish has +partially opened another world to you by increasing your rate of psychical +vibration, and thus rendering you abnormally sensitive. Ancient forces attached +to this house have attacked you. For the moment I am only puzzled as to their +precise nature; for were they of an ordinary character, I should myself be +psychic enough to feel them. Yet I am conscious of feeling nothing as yet. But +now, please continue, Mr. Pender, and tell me the rest of your wonderful story; +and when you have finished, I will talk about the means of cure.” +</p> + +<p> +Pender shifted his chair a little closer to the friendly doctor and then went +on in the same nervous voice with his narrative. +</p> + +<p> +“After making some notes of my impressions I finally got upstairs again +to bed. It was four o’clock in the morning. I laughed all the way +up—at the grotesque banisters, the droll physiognomy of the staircase +window, the burlesque grouping of the furniture, and the memory of that +outrageous footstool in the room below; but nothing more happened to alarm or +disturb me, and I woke late in the morning after a dreamless sleep, none the +worse for my experiment except for a slight headache and a coldness of the +extremities due to lowered circulation.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fear gone, too?” asked the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“I seemed to have forgotten it, or at least ascribed it to mere +nervousness. Its reality had gone, anyhow for the time, and all that day I +wrote and wrote and wrote. My sense of laughter seemed wonderfully quickened +and my characters acted without effort out of the heart of true humour. I was +exceedingly pleased with this result of my experiment. But when the +stenographer had taken her departure and I came to read over the pages she had +typed out, I recalled her sudden glances of surprise and the odd way she had +looked up at me while I was dictating. I was amazed at what I read and could +hardly believe I had uttered it.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was so distorted. The words, indeed, were mine so far as I could +remember, but the meanings seemed strange. It frightened me. The sense was so +altered. At the very places where my characters were intended to tickle the +ribs, only curious emotions of sinister amusement resulted. Dreadful innuendoes +had managed to creep into the phrases. There was laughter of a kind, but it was +bizarre, horrible, distressing; and my attempt at analysis only increased my +dismay. The story, as it read then, made me shudder, for by virtue of these +slight changes it had come somehow to hold the soul of horror, of horror +disguised as merriment. The framework of humour was there, if you understand +me, but the characters had turned sinister, and their laughter was evil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you show me this writing?” +</p> + +<p> +The author shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I destroyed it,” he whispered. “But, in the end, though of +course much perturbed about it, I persuaded myself that it was due to some +after-effect of the drug, a sort of reaction that gave a twist to my mind and +made me read macabre interpretations into words and situations that did not +properly hold them.” +</p> + +<p> +“And, meanwhile, did the presence of this person leave you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; that stayed more or less. When my mind was actively employed I +forgot it, but when idle, dreaming, or doing nothing in particular, there she +was beside me, influencing my mind horribly—” +</p> + +<p> +“In what way, precisely?” interrupted the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“Evil, scheming thoughts came to me, visions of crime, hateful pictures +of wickedness, and the kind of bad imagination that so far has been foreign, +indeed impossible, to my normal nature—” +</p> + +<p> +“The pressure of the Dark Powers upon the personality,” murmured +the doctor, making a quick note. +</p> + +<p> +“Eh? I didn’t quite catch—” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray, go on. I am merely making notes; you shall know their purport +fully later.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even when my wife returned I was still aware of this Presence in the +house; it associated itself with my inner personality in most intimate fashion; +and outwardly I always felt oddly constrained to be polite and respectful +towards it—to open doors, provide chairs and hold myself carefully +deferential when it was about. It became very compelling at last, and, if I +failed in any little particular, I seemed to know that it pursued me about the +house, from one room to another, haunting my very soul in its inmost abode. It +certainly came before my wife so far as my attentions were concerned. +</p> + +<p> +“But, let me first finish the story of my experimental dose, for I took +it again the third night, and underwent a very similar experience, delayed like +the first in coming, and then carrying me off my feet when it did come with a +rush of this false demon-laughter. This time, however, there was a reversal of +the changed scale of space and time; it shortened instead of lengthened, so +that I dressed and got downstairs in about twenty seconds, and the couple of +hours I stayed and worked in the study passed literally like a period of ten +minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is often true of an overdose,” interjected the doctor, +“and you may go a mile in a few minutes, or a few yards in a quarter of +an hour. It is quite incomprehensible to those who have never experienced it, +and is a curious proof that time and space are merely forms of thought.” +</p> + +<p> +“This time,” Pender went on, talking more and more rapidly in his +excitement, “another extraordinary effect came to me, and I experienced a +curious changing of the senses, so that I perceived external things through one +large main sense-channel instead of through the five divisions known as sight, +smell, touch, and so forth. You will, I know, understand me when I tell you +that I <i>heard</i> sights and <i>saw</i> sounds. No language can make this +comprehensible, of course, and I can only say, for instance, that the striking +of the clock I saw as a visible picture in the air before me. I saw the sounds +of the tinkling bell. And in precisely the same way I heard the colours in the +room, especially the colours of those books in the shelf behind you. Those red +bindings I heard in deep sounds, and the yellow covers of the French bindings +next to them made a shrill, piercing note not unlike the chattering of +starlings. That brown bookcase muttered, and those green curtains opposite kept +up a constant sort of rippling sound like the lower notes of a wood-horn. But I +only was conscious of these sounds when I looked steadily at the different +objects, and thought about them. The room, you understand, was not full of a +chorus of notes; but when I concentrated my mind upon a colour, I heard, as +well as saw, it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a known, though rarely obtained, effect of <i>Cannabis +indica</i>,” observed the doctor. “And it provoked laughter again, +did it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only the muttering of the cupboard-bookcase made me laugh. It was so +like a great animal trying to get itself noticed, and made me think of a +performing bear—which is full of a kind of pathetic humour, you know. But +this mingling of the senses produced no confusion in my brain. On the contrary, +I was unusually clear-headed and experienced an intensification of +consciousness, and felt marvellously alive and keen-minded. +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover, when I took up a pencil in obedience to an impulse to +sketch—a talent not normally mine—I found that I could draw nothing +but heads, nothing, in fact, but one head—always the same—the head +of a dark-skinned woman, with huge and terrible features and a very drooping +left eye; and so well drawn, too, that I was amazed, as you may +imagine—” +</p> + +<p> +“And the expression of the face—?” +</p> + +<p> +Pender hesitated a moment for words, casting about with his hands in the air +and hunching his shoulders. A perceptible shudder ran over him. +</p> + +<p> +“What I can only describe as—<i>blackness</i>,” he replied in +a low tone; “the face of a dark and evil soul.” +</p> + +<p> +“You destroyed that, too?” queried the doctor sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“No; I have kept the drawings,” he said, with a laugh, and rose to +get them from a drawer in the writing-desk behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is all that remains of the pictures, you see,” he added, +pushing a number of loose sheets under the doctor’s eyes; “nothing +but a few scrawly lines. That’s all I found the next morning. I had +really drawn no heads at all—nothing but those lines and blots and +wriggles. The pictures were entirely subjective, and existed only in my mind +which constructed them out of a few wild strokes of the pen. Like the altered +scale of space and time it was a complete delusion. These all passed, of +course, with the passing of the drug’s effects. But the other thing did +not pass. I mean, the presence of that Dark Soul remained with me. It is here +still. It is real. I don’t know how I can escape from it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is attached to the house, not to you personally. You must leave the +house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Only I cannot afford to leave the house, for my work is my sole +means of support, and—well, you see, since this change I cannot even +write. They are horrible, these mirthless tales I now write, with their mockery +of laughter, their diabolical suggestion. Horrible? I shall go mad if this +continues.” +</p> + +<p> +He screwed his face up and looked about the room as though he expected to see +some haunting shape. +</p> + +<p> +“This influence in this house induced by my experiment, has killed in a +flash, in a sudden stroke, the sources of my humour, and though I still go on +writing funny tales—I have a certain name you know—my inspiration +has dried up, and much of what I write I have to burn—yes, doctor, to +burn, before any one sees it.” +</p> + +<p> +“As utterly alien to your own mind and personality?” +</p> + +<p> +“Utterly! As though some one else had written it—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +“And shocking!” He passed his hand over his eyes a moment and let +the breath escape softly through his teeth. “Yet most damnably clever in +the consummate way the vile suggestions are insinuated under cover of a kind of +high drollery. My stenographer left me of course—and I’ve been +afraid to take another—” +</p> + +<p> +John Silence got up and began to walk about the room leisurely without +speaking; he appeared to be examining the pictures on the wall and reading the +names of the books lying about. Presently he paused on the hearthrug, with his +back to the fire, and turned to look his patient quietly in the eyes. +Pender’s face was grey and drawn; the hunted expression dominated it; the +long recital had told upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Mr. Pender,” he said, a curious glow showing about his +fine, quiet face; “thank you for the sincerity and frankness of your +account. But I think now there is nothing further I need ask you.” He +indulged in a long scrutiny of the author’s haggard features drawing +purposely the man’s eyes to his own and then meeting them with a look of +power and confidence calculated to inspire even the feeblest soul with courage. +“And, to begin with,” he added, smiling pleasantly, “let me +assure you without delay that you need have no alarm, for you are no more +insane or deluded than I myself am—” +</p> + +<p> +Pender heaved a deep sigh and tried to return the smile. +</p> + +<p> +“—and this is simply a case, so far as I can judge at present, of a +very singular psychical invasion, and a very sinister one, too, if you perhaps +understand what I mean—” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s an odd expression; you used it before, you know,” said +the author wearily, yet eagerly listening to every word of the diagnosis, and +deeply touched by the intelligent sympathy which did not at once indicate the +lunatic asylum. +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” returned the other, “and an odd affliction, too, +you’ll allow, yet one not unknown to the nations of antiquity, nor to +those moderns, perhaps, who recognise the freedom of action under certain +pathogenic conditions between this world and another.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you think,” asked Pender hastily, “that it is all +primarily due to the <i>Cannabis</i>? There is nothing radically amiss with +myself—nothing incurable, or—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Due entirely to the overdose,” Dr. Silence replied emphatically, +“to the drug’s direct action upon your psychical being. It rendered +you ultra-sensitive and made you respond to an increased rate of vibration. +And, let me tell you, Mr. Pender, that your experiment might have had results +far more dire. It has brought you into touch with a somewhat singular class of +Invisible, but of one, I think, chiefly human in character. You might, however, +just as easily have been drawn out of human range altogether, and the results +of such a contingency would have been exceedingly terrible. Indeed, you would +not now be here to tell the tale. I need not alarm you on that score, but +mention it as a warning you will not misunderstand or underrate after what you +have been through. +</p> + +<p> +“You look puzzled. You do not quite gather what I am driving at; and it +is not to be expected that you should, for you, I suppose, are the nominal +Christian with the nominal Christian’s lofty standard of ethics, and his +utter ignorance of spiritual possibilities. Beyond a somewhat childish +understanding of ‘spiritual wickedness in high places,’ you +probably have no conception of what is possible once you break-down the slender +gulf that is mercifully fixed between you and that Outer World. But my studies +and training have taken me far outside these orthodox trips, and I have made +experiments that I could scarcely speak to you about in language that would be +intelligible to you.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment to note the breathless interest of Pender’s face and +manner. Every word he uttered was calculated; he knew exactly the value and +effect of the emotions he desired to waken in the heart of the afflicted being +before him. +</p> + +<p> +“And from certain knowledge I have gained through various +experiences,” he continued calmly, “I can diagnose your case as I +said before to be one of psychical invasion.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the nature of this—er—invasion?” stammered the +bewildered writer of humorous tales. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no reason why I should not say at once that I do not yet quite +know,” replied Dr. Silence. “I may first have to make one or two +experiments—” +</p> + +<p> +“On me?” gasped Pender, catching his breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly,” the doctor said, with a grave smile, “but with +your assistance, perhaps. I shall want to test the conditions of the +house—to ascertain, impossible, the character of the forces, of this +strange personality that has been haunting you—” +</p> + +<p> +“At present you have no idea exactly +who—what—why—” asked the other in a wild flurry of +interest, dread and amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a very good idea, but no proof rather,” returned the +doctor. “The effects of the drug in altering the scale of time and space, +and merging the senses have nothing primarily to do with the invasion. They +come to any one who is fool enough to take an experimental dose. It is the +other features of your case that are unusual. You see, you are now in touch +with certain violent emotions, desires, purposes, still active in this house, +that were produced in the past by some powerful and evil personality that lived +here. How long ago, or why they still persist so forcibly, I cannot positively +say. But I should judge that they are merely forces acting automatically with +the momentum of their terrific original impetus.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not directed by a living being, a conscious will, you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly not—but none the less dangerous on that account, and more +difficult to deal with. I cannot explain to you in a few minutes the nature of +such things, for you have not made the studies that would enable you to follow +me; but I have reason to believe that on the dissolution at death of a human +being, its forces may still persist and continue to act in a blind, unconscious +fashion. As a rule they speedily dissipate themselves, but in the case of a +very powerful personality they may last a long time. And, in some +cases—of which I incline to think this is one—these forces may +coalesce with certain non-human entities who thus continue their life +indefinitely and increase their strength to an unbelievable degree. If the +original personality was evil, the beings attracted to the left-over forces +will also be evil. In this case, I think there has been an unusual and dreadful +aggrandisement of the thoughts and purposes left behind long ago by a woman of +consummate wickedness and great personal power of character and intellect. Now, +do you begin to see what I am driving at a little?” +</p> + +<p> +Pender stared fixedly at his companion, plain horror showing in his eyes. But +he found nothing to say, and the doctor continued— +</p> + +<p> +“In your case, predisposed by the action of the drug, you have +experienced the rush of these forces in undiluted strength. They wholly +obliterate in you the sense of humour, fancy, imagination,—all that makes +for cheerfulness and hope. They seek, though perhaps automatically only, to +oust your own thoughts and establish themselves in their place. You are the +victim of a psychical invasion. At the same time, you have become clairvoyant +in the true sense. You are also a clairvoyant victim.” +</p> + +<p> +Pender mopped his face and sighed. He left his chair and went over to the +fireplace to warm himself. +</p> + +<p> +“You must think me a quack to talk like this, or a madman,” laughed +Dr. Silence. “But never mind that. I have come to help you, and I can +help you if you will do what I tell you. It is very simple: you must leave this +house at once. Oh, never mind the difficulties; we will deal with those +together. I can place another house at your disposal, or I would take the lease +here off your hands, and later have it pulled down. Your case interests me +greatly, and I mean to see you through, so that you have no anxiety, and can +drop back into your old groove of work tomorrow! The drug has provided you, and +therefore me, with a shortcut to a very interesting experience. I am grateful +to you.” +</p> + +<p> +The author poked the fire vigorously, emotion rising in him like a tide. He +glanced towards the door nervously. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need to alarm your wife or to tell her the details of our +conversation,” pursued the other quietly. “Let her know that you +will soon be in possession again of your sense of humour and your health, and +explain that I am lending you another house for six months. Meanwhile I may +have the right to use this house for a night or two for my experiment. Is that +understood between us?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart,” stammered +Pender, unable to find words to express his gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +Then he hesitated for a moment, searching the doctor’s face anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“And your experiment with the house?” he said at length. +</p> + +<p> +“Of the simplest character, my dear Mr. Pender. Although I am myself an +artificially trained psychic, and consequently aware of the presence of +discarnate entities as a rule, I have so far felt nothing here at all. This +makes me sure that the forces acting here are of an unusual description. What I +propose to do is to make an experiment with a view of drawing out this evil, +coaxing it from its lair, so to speak, in order that it may <i>exhaust itself +through me</i> and become dissipated for ever. I have already been +inoculated,” he added; “I consider myself to be immune.” +</p> + +<p> +“Heavens above!” gasped the author, collapsing on to a chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Hell beneath! might be a more appropriate exclamation,” the doctor +laughed. “But, seriously, Mr. Pender, this is what I propose to +do—with your permission.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, of course,” cried the other, “you have my +permission and my best wishes for success. I can see no possible objection, +but—” +</p> + +<p> +“But what?” +</p> + +<p> +“I pray to Heaven you will not undertake this experiment alone, will +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dear, no; not alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will take a companion with good nerves, and reliable in case of +disaster, won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall bring two companions,” the doctor said. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, that’s better. I feel easier. I am sure you must have among +your acquaintances men who—” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not think of bringing men, Mr. Pender.” +</p> + +<p> +The other looked up sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“No, or women either; or children.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand. Who will you bring, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Animals,” explained the doctor, unable to prevent a smile at his +companion’s expression of surprise—“two animals, a cat and a +dog.” +</p> + +<p> +Pender stared as if his eyes would drop out upon the floor, and then led the +way without another word into the adjoining room where his wife was awaiting +them for tea. +</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p> +A few days later the humorist and his wife, with minds greatly relieved, moved +into a small furnished house placed at their free disposal in another part of +London; and John Silence, intent upon his approaching experiment, made ready to +spend a night in the empty house on the top of Putney Hill. Only two rooms were +prepared for occupation: the study on the ground floor and the bedroom +immediately above it; all other doors were to be locked, and no servant was to +be left in the house. The motor had orders to call for him at nine +o’clock the following morning. +</p> + +<p> +And, meanwhile, his secretary had instructions to look up the past history and +associations of the place, and learn everything he could concerning the +character of former occupants, recent or remote. +</p> + +<p> +The animals, by whose sensitiveness he intended to test any unusual conditions +in the atmosphere of the building, Dr. Silence selected with care and judgment. +He believed (and had already made curious experiments to prove it) that animals +were more often, and more truly, clairvoyant than human beings. Many of them, +he felt convinced, possessed powers of perception far superior to that mere +keenness of the senses common to all dwellers in the wilds where the senses +grow specially alert; they had what he termed “animal +clairvoyance,” and from his experiments with horses, dogs, cats, and even +birds, he had drawn certain deductions, which, however, need not be referred to +in detail here. +</p> + +<p> +Cats, in particular, he believed, were almost continuously conscious of a +larger field of vision, too detailed even for a photographic camera, and quite +beyond the reach of normal human organs. He had, further, observed that while +dogs were usually terrified in the presence of such phenomena, cats on the +other hand were soothed and satisfied. They welcomed manifestations as +something belonging peculiarly to their own region. +</p> + +<p> +He selected his animals, therefore, with wisdom so that they might afford a +differing test, each in its own way, and that one should not merely communicate +its own excitement to the other. He took a dog and a cat. +</p> + +<p> +The cat he chose, now full grown, had lived with him since kittenhood, a +kittenhood of perplexing sweetness and audacious mischief. Wayward it was and +fanciful, ever playing its own mysterious games in the corners of the room, +jumping at invisible nothings, leaping sideways into the air and falling with +tiny moccasined feet on to another part of the carpet, yet with an air of +dignified earnestness which showed that the performance was necessary to its +own well-being, and not done merely to impress a stupid human audience. In the +middle of elaborate washing it would look up, startled, as though to stare at +the approach of some Invisible, cocking its little head sideways and putting +out a velvet pad to inspect cautiously. Then it would get absent-minded, and +stare with equal intentness in another direction (just to confuse the +onlookers), and suddenly go on furiously washing its body again, but in quite a +new place. Except for a white patch on its breast it was coal black. And its +name was—Smoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Smoke” described its temperament as well as its appearance. Its +movements, its individuality, its posing as a little furry mass of concealed +mysteries, its elfin-like elusiveness, all combined to justify its name; and a +subtle painter might have pictured it as a wisp of floating smoke, the fire +below betraying itself at two points only—the glowing eyes. +</p> + +<p> +All its forces ran to intelligence—secret intelligence, the wordless +incalculable intuition of the Cat. It was, indeed, <i>the</i> cat for the +business in hand. +</p> + +<p> +The selection of the dog was not so simple, for the doctor owned many; but +after much deliberation he chose a collie, called Flame from his yellow coat. +True, it was a trifle old, and stiff in the joints, and even beginning to grow +deaf, but, on the other hand, it was a very particular friend of Smoke’s, +and had fathered it from kittenhood upwards so that a subtle understanding +existed between them. It was this that turned the balance in its favour, this +and its courage. Moreover, though good-tempered, it was a terrible fighter, and +its anger when provoked by a righteous cause was a fury of fire, and +irresistible. +</p> + +<p> +It had come to him quite young, straight from the shepherd, with the air of the +hills yet in its nostrils, and was then little more than skin and bones and +teeth. For a collie it was sturdily built, its nose blunter than most, its +yellow hair stiff rather than silky, and it had full eyes, unlike the slit eyes +of its breed. Only its master could touch it, for it ignored strangers, and +despised their pattings—when any dared to pat it. There was something +patriarchal about the old beast. He was in earnest, and went through life with +tremendous energy and big things in view, as though he had the reputation of +his whole race to uphold. And to watch him fighting against odds was to +understand why he was terrible. +</p> + +<p> +In his relations with Smoke he was always absurdly gentle; also he was +fatherly; and at the same time betrayed a certain diffidence or shyness. He +recognised that Smoke called for strong yet respectful management. The +cat’s circuitous methods puzzled him, and his elaborate pretences perhaps +shocked the dog’s liking for direct, undisguised action. Yet, while he +failed to comprehend these tortuous feline mysteries, he was never contemptuous +or condescending; and he presided over the safety of his furry black friend +somewhat as a father, loving, but intuitive, might superintend the vagaries of +a wayward and talented child. And, in return, Smoke rewarded him with +exhibitions of fascinating and audacious mischief. +</p> + +<p> +And these brief descriptions of their characters are necessary for the proper +understanding of what subsequently took place. +</p> + +<p> +With Smoke sleeping in the folds of his fur coat, and the collie lying watchful +on the seat opposite, John Silence went down in his motor after dinner on the +night of November 15th. +</p> + +<p> +And the fog was so dense that they were obliged to travel at quarter speed the +entire way. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +It was after ten o’clock when he dismissed the motor and entered the +dingy little house with the latchkey provided by Pender. He found the hall gas +turned low, and a fire in the study. Books and food had also been placed ready +by the servant according to instructions. Coils of fog rushed in after him +through the open door and filled the hall and passage with its cold discomfort. +</p> + +<p> +The first thing Dr. Silence did was to lock up Smoke in the study with a saucer +of milk before the fire, and then make a search of the house with Flame. The +dog ran cheerfully behind him all the way while he tried the doors of the other +rooms to make sure they were locked. He nosed about into corners and made +little excursions on his own account. His manner was expectant. He knew there +must be something unusual about the proceeding, because it was contrary to the +habits of his whole life not to be asleep at this hour on the mat in front of +the fire. He kept looking up into his master’s face, as door after door +was tried, with an expression of intelligent sympathy, but at the same time a +certain air of disapproval. Yet everything his master did was good in his eyes, +and he betrayed as little impatience as possible with all this unnecessary +journeying to and fro. If the doctor was pleased to play this sort of game at +such an hour of the night, it was surely not for him to object. So he played +it, too; and was very busy and earnest about it into the bargain. +</p> + +<p> +After an uneventful search they came down again to the study, and here Dr. +Silence discovered Smoke washing his face calmly in front of the fire. The +saucer of milk was licked dry and clean; the preliminary examination that cats +always make in new surroundings had evidently been satisfactorily concluded. He +drew an arm-chair up to the fire, stirred the coals into a blaze, arranged the +table and lamp to his satisfaction for reading, and then prepared +surreptitiously to watch the animals. He wished to observe them carefully +without their being aware of it. +</p> + +<p> +Now, in spite of their respective ages, it was the regular custom of these two +to play together every night before sleep. Smoke always made the advances, +beginning with grave impudence to pat the dog’s tail, and Flame played +cumbrously, with condescension. It was his duty, rather than pleasure; he was +glad when it was over, and sometimes he was very determined and refused to play +at all. +</p> + +<p> +And this night was one of the occasions on which he was firm. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor, looking cautiously over the top of his book, watched the cat begin +the performance. It started by gazing with an innocent expression at the dog +where he lay with nose on paws and eyes wide open in the middle of the floor. +Then it got up and made as though it meant to walk to the door, going +deliberately and very softly. Flame’s eyes followed it until it was +beyond the range of sight, and then the cat turned sharply and began patting +his tail tentatively with one paw. The tail moved slightly in reply, and Smoke +changed paws and tapped it again. The dog, however, did not rise to play as was +his wont, and the cat fell to parting it briskly with both paws. Flame still +lay motionless. +</p> + +<p> +This puzzled and bored the cat, and it went round and stared hard into its +friend’s face to see what was the matter. Perhaps some inarticulate +message flashed from the dog’s eyes into its own little brain, making it +understand that the programme for the night had better not begin with play. +Perhaps it only realised that its friend was immovable. But, whatever the +reason, its usual persistence thenceforward deserted it, and it made no further +attempts at persuasion. Smoke yielded at once to the dog’s mood; it sat +down where it was and began to wash. +</p> + +<p> +But the washing, the doctor noted, was by no means its real purpose; it only +used it to mask something else; it stopped at the most busy and furious moments +and began to stare about the room. Its thoughts wandered absurdly. It peered +intently at the curtains; at the shadowy corners; at empty space above; leaving +its body in curiously awkward positions for whole minutes together. Then it +turned sharply and stared with a sudden signal of intelligence at the dog, and +Flame at once rose somewhat stiffly to his feet and began to wander aimlessly +and restlessly to and fro about the floor. Smoke followed him, padding quietly +at his heels. Between them they made what seemed to be a deliberate search of +the room. +</p> + +<p> +And, here, as he watched them, noting carefully every detail of the performance +over the top of his book, yet making no effort to interfere, it seemed to the +doctor that the first beginnings of a faint distress betrayed themselves in the +collie, and in the cat the stirrings of a vague excitement. +</p> + +<p> +He observed them closely. The fog was thick in the air, and the tobacco smoke +from his pipe added to its density; the furniture at the far end stood mistily, +and where the shadows congregated in hanging clouds under the ceiling, it was +difficult to see clearly at all; the lamplight only reached to a level of five +feet from the floor, above which came layers of comparative darkness, so that +the room appeared twice as lofty as it actually was. By means of the lamp and +the fire, however, the carpet was everywhere clearly visible. +</p> + +<p> +The animals made their silent tour of the floor, sometimes the dog leading, +sometimes the cat; occasionally they looked at one another as though exchanging +signals; and once or twice, in spite of the limited space, he lost sight of one +or other among the fog and the shadows. Their curiosity, it appeared to him, +was something more than the excitement lurking in the unknown territory of a +strange room; yet, so far, it was impossible to test this, and he purposely +kept his mind quietly receptive lest the smallest mental excitement on his part +should communicate itself to the animals and thus destroy the value of their +independent behaviour. +</p> + +<p> +They made a very thorough journey, leaving no piece of furniture unexamined, or +unsmelt. Flame led the way, walking slowly with lowered head, and Smoke +followed demurely at his heels, making a transparent pretence of not being +interested, yet missing nothing. And, at length, they returned, the old collie +first, and came to rest on the mat before the fire. Flame rested his muzzle on +his master’s knee, smiling beatifically while he patted the yellow head +and spoke his name; and Smoke, coming a little later, pretending he came by +chance, looked from the empty saucer to his face, lapped up the milk when it +was given him to the last drop, and then sprang upon his knees and curled round +for the sleep it had fully earned and intended to enjoy. +</p> + +<p> +Silence descended upon the room. Only the breathing of the dog upon the mat +came through the deep stillness, like the pulse of time marking the minutes; +and the steady drip, drip of the fog outside upon the window-ledges dismally +testified to the inclemency of the night beyond. And the soft crashings of the +coals as the fire settled down into the grate became less and less audible as +the fire sank and the flames resigned their fierceness. +</p> + +<p> +It was now well after eleven o’clock, and Dr. Silence devoted himself +again to his book. He read the words on the printed page and took in their +meaning superficially, yet without starting into life the correlations of +thought and suggestions that should accompany interesting reading. Underneath, +all the while, his mental energies were absorbed in watching, listening, +waiting for what might come. He was not over-sanguine himself, yet he did not +wish to be taken by surprise. Moreover, the animals, his sensitive barometers, +had incontinently gone to sleep. +</p> + +<p> +After reading a dozen pages, however, he realised that his mind was really +occupied in reviewing the features of Pender’s extraordinary story, and +that it was no longer necessary to steady his imagination by studying the dull +paragraphs detailed in the pages before him. He laid down his book accordingly, +and allowed his thoughts to dwell upon the features of the Case. Speculations +as to the meaning, however, he rigorously suppressed, knowing that such +thoughts would act upon his imagination like wind upon the glowing embers of a +fire. +</p> + +<p> +As the night wore on the silence grew deeper and deeper, and only at rare +intervals he heard the sound of wheels on the main road a hundred yards away, +where the horses went at a walking pace owing to the density of the fog. The +echo of pedestrian footsteps no longer reached him, the clamour of occasional +voices no longer came down the side street. The night, muffled by fog, shrouded +by veils of ultimate mystery, hung about the haunted villa like a doom. Nothing +in the house stirred. Stillness, in a thick blanket, lay over the upper +storeys. Only the mist in the room grew more dense, he thought, and the damp +cold more penetrating. Certainly, from time to time, he shivered. +</p> + +<p> +The collie, now deep in slumber, moved occasionally,—grunted, sighed, or +twitched his legs in dreams. Smoke lay on his knees, a pool of warm, black fur, +only the closest observation detecting the movement of his sleek sides. It was +difficult to distinguish exactly where his head and body joined in that circle +of glistening hair; only a black satin nose and a tiny tip of pink tongue +betrayed the secret. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence watched him, and felt comfortable. The collie’s breathing was +soothing. The fire was well built, and would burn for another two hours without +attention. He was not conscious of the least nervousness. He particularly +wished to remain in his ordinary and normal state of mind, and to force +nothing. If sleep came naturally, he would let it come—and even welcome +it. The coldness of the room, when the fire died down later, would be sure to +wake him again; and it would then be time enough to carry these sleeping +barometers up to bed. From various psychic premonitions he knew quite well that +the night would not pass without adventure; but he did not wish to force its +arrival; and he wished to remain normal, and let the animals remain normal, so +that, when it came, it would be unattended by excitement or by any straining of +the attention. Many experiments had made him wise. And, for the rest, he had no +fear. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly, after a time, he did fall asleep as he had expected, and the last +thing he remembered, before oblivion slipped up over his eyes like soft wool, +was the picture of Flame stretching all four legs at once, and sighing noisily +as he sought a more comfortable position for his paws and muzzle upon the mat. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +It was a good deal later when he became aware that a weight lay upon his chest, +and that something was pencilling over his face and mouth. A soft touch on the +cheek woke him. Something was patting him. +</p> + +<p> +He sat up with a jerk, and found himself staring straight into a pair of +brilliant eyes, half green, half black. Smoke’s face lay level with his +own; and the cat had climbed up with its front paws upon his chest. +</p> + +<p> +The lamp had burned low and the fire was nearly out, yet Dr. Silence saw in a +moment that the cat was in an excited state. It kneaded with its front paws +into his chest, shifting from one to the other. He felt them prodding against +him. It lifted a leg very carefully and patted his cheek gingerly. Its fur, he +saw, was standing ridgewise upon its back; the ears were flattened back +somewhat; the tail was switching sharply. The cat, of course, had wakened him +with a purpose, and the instant he realised this, he set it upon the arm of the +chair and sprang up with a quick turn to face the empty room behind him. By +some curious instinct, his arms of their own accord assumed an attitude of +defence in front of him, as though to ward off something that threatened his +safety. Yet nothing was visible. Only shapes of fog hung about rather heavily +in the air, moving slightly to and fro. +</p> + +<p> +His mind was now fully alert, and the last vestiges of sleep gone. He turned +the lamp higher and peered about him. Two things he became aware of at once: +one, that Smoke, while excited, was <i>pleasurably</i> excited; the other, that +the collie was no longer visible upon the mat at his feet. He had crept away to +the corner of the wall farthest from the window, and lay watching the room with +wide-open eyes, in which lurked plainly something of alarm. +</p> + +<p> +Something in the dog’s behaviour instantly struck Dr. Silence as unusual, +and, calling him by name, he moved across to pat him. Flame got up, wagged his +tail, and came over slowly to the rug, uttering a low sound that was half +growl, half whine. He was evidently perturbed about something, and his master +was proceeding to administer comfort when his attention was suddenly drawn to +the antics of his other four-footed companion, the cat. +</p> + +<p> +And what he saw filled him with something like amazement. +</p> + +<p> +Smoke had jumped down from the back of the arm-chair and now occupied the +middle of the carpet, where, with tail erect and legs stiff as ramrods, it was +steadily pacing backwards and forwards in a narrow space, uttering, as it did +so, those curious little guttural sounds of pleasure that only an animal of the +feline species knows how to make expressive of supreme happiness. Its stiffened +legs and arched back made it appear larger than usual, and the black visage +wore a smile of beatific joy. Its eyes blazed magnificently; it was in an +ecstasy. +</p> + +<p> +At the end of every few paces it turned sharply and stalked back again along +the same line, padding softly, and purring like a roll of little muffled drums. +It behaved precisely as though it were rubbing against the ankles of some one +who remained invisible. A thrill ran down the doctor’s spine as he stood +and stared. His experiment was growing interesting at last. +</p> + +<p> +He called the collie’s attention to his friend’s performance to see +whether he too was aware of anything standing there upon the carpet, and the +dog’s behaviour was significant and corroborative. He came as far as his +master’s knees and then stopped dead, refusing to investigate closely. In +vain Dr. Silence urged him; he wagged his tail, whined a little, and stood in a +half-crouching attitude, staring alternately at the cat and at his +master’s face. He was, apparently, both puzzled and alarmed, and the +whine went deeper and deeper down into his throat till it changed into an ugly +snarl of awakening anger. +</p> + +<p> +Then the doctor called to him in a tone of command he had never known to be +disregarded; but still the dog, though springing up in response, declined to +move nearer. He made tentative motions, pranced a little like a dog about to +take to water, pretended to bark, and ran to and fro on the carpet. So far +there was no actual fear in his manner, but he was uneasy and anxious, and +nothing would induce him to go within touching distance of the walking cat. +Once he made a complete circuit, but always carefully out of reach; and in the +end he returned to his master’s legs and rubbed vigorously against him. +Flame did not like the performance at all: that much was quite clear. +</p> + +<p> +For several minutes John Silence watched the performance of the cat with +profound attention and without interfering. Then he called to the animal by +name. +</p> + +<p> +“Smoke, you mysterious beastie, what in the world are you about?” +he said, in a coaxing tone. +</p> + +<p> +The cat looked up at him for a moment, smiling in its ecstasy, blinking its +eyes, but too happy to pause. He spoke to it again. He called to it several +times, and each time it turned upon him its blazing eyes, drunk with inner +delight, opening and shutting its lips, its body large and rigid with +excitement. Yet it never for one instant paused in its short journeys to and +fro. +</p> + +<p> +He noted exactly what it did: it walked, he saw, the same number of paces each +time, some six or seven steps, and then it turned sharply and retraced them. By +the pattern of the great roses in the carpet he measured it. It kept to the +same direction and the same line. It behaved precisely as though it were +rubbing against something solid. Undoubtedly, there was something standing +there on that strip of carpet, something invisible to the doctor, something +that alarmed the dog, yet caused the cat unspeakable pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“Smokie!” he called again, “Smokie, you black mystery, what +is it excites you so?” +</p> + +<p> +Again the cat looked up at him for a brief second, and then continued its +sentry-walk, blissfully happy, intensely preoccupied. And, for an instant, as +he watched it, the doctor was aware that a faint uneasiness stirred in the +depths of his own being, focusing itself for the moment upon this curious +behaviour of the uncanny creature before him. +</p> + +<p> +There rose in him quite a new realisation of the mystery connected with the +whole feline tribe, but especially with that common member of it, the domestic +cat—their hidden lives, their strange aloofness, their incalculable +subtlety. How utterly remote from anything that human beings understood lay the +sources of their elusive activities. As he watched the indescribable bearing of +the little creature mincing along the strip of carpet under his eyes, +coquetting with the powers of darkness, welcoming, maybe, some fearsome +visitor, there stirred in his heart a feeling strangely akin to awe. Its +indifference to human kind, its serene superiority to the obvious, struck him +forcibly with fresh meaning; so remote, so inaccessible seemed the secret +purposes of its real life, so alien to the blundering honesty of other animals. +Its absolute poise of bearing brought into his mind the opium-eater’s +words that “no dignity is perfect which does not at some point ally +itself with the mysterious”; and he became suddenly aware that the +presence of the dog in this foggy, haunted room on the top of Putney Hill was +uncommonly welcome to him. He was glad to feel that Flame’s dependable +personality was with him. The savage growling at his heels was a pleasant +sound. He was glad to hear it. That marching cat made him uneasy. +</p> + +<p> +Finding that Smoke paid no further attention to his words, the doctor decided +upon action. Would it rub against his leg, too? He would take it by surprise +and see. +</p> + +<p> +He stepped quickly forward and placed himself upon the exact strip of carpet +where it walked. +</p> + +<p> +But no cat is ever taken by surprise! The moment he occupied the space of the +Intruder, setting his feet on the woven roses midway in the line of travel, +Smoke suddenly stopped purring and sat down. If lifted up its face with the +most innocent stare imaginable of its green eyes. He could have sworn it +laughed. It was a perfect child again. In a single second it had resumed its +simple, domestic manner; and it gazed at him in such a way that he almost felt +Smoke was the normal being, and <i>his</i> was the eccentric behaviour that was +being watched. It was consummate, the manner in which it brought about this +change so easily and so quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Superb little actor!” he laughed in spite of himself, and stooped +to stroke the shining black back. But, in a flash, as he touched its fur, the +cat turned and spat at him viciously, striking at his hand with one paw. Then, +with a hurried scutter of feet, it shot like a shadow across the floor and a +moment later was calmly sitting over by the window-curtains washing its face as +though nothing interested it in the whole world but the cleanness of its cheeks +and whiskers. +</p> + +<p> +John Silence straightened himself up and drew a long breath. He realised that +the performance was temporarily at an end. The collie, meanwhile, who had +watched the whole proceeding with marked disapproval, had now lain down again +upon the mat by the fire, no longer growling. It seemed to the doctor just as +though something that had entered the room while he slept, alarming the dog, +yet bringing happiness to the cat, had now gone out again, leaving all as it +was before. Whatever it was that excited its blissful attentions had retreated +for the moment. +</p> + +<p> +He realised this intuitively. Smoke evidently realised it, too, for presently +he deigned to march back to the fireplace and jump upon his master’s +knees. Dr. Silence, patient and determined, settled down once more to his book. +The animals soon slept; the fire blazed cheerfully; and the cold fog from +outside poured into the room through every available chink and crannie. +</p> + +<p> +For a long time silence and peace reigned in the room and Dr. Silence availed +himself of the quietness to make careful notes of what had happened. He entered +for future use in other cases an exhaustive analysis of what he had observed, +especially with regard to the effect upon the two animals. It is impossible +here, nor would it be intelligible to the reader unversed in the knowledge of +the region known to a scientifically trained psychic like Dr. Silence, to +detail these observations. But to him it was clear, up to a certain +point—for the rest he must still wait and watch. So far, at least, he +realised that while he slept in the chair—that is, while his will was +dormant—the room had suffered intrusion from what he recognised as an +intensely active Force, and might later be forced to acknowledge as something +more than merely a blind force, namely, a distinct personality. +</p> + +<p> +So far it had affected himself scarcely at all, but had acted directly upon the +simpler organisms of the animals. It stimulated keenly the centres of the +cat’s psychic being, inducing a state of instant happiness (intensifying +its consciousness probably in the same way a drug or stimulant intensifies that +of a human being); whereas it alarmed the less sensitive dog, causing it to +feel a vague apprehension and distress. +</p> + +<p> +His own sudden action and exhibition of energy had served to disperse it +temporarily, yet he felt convinced—the indications were not lacking even +while he sat there making notes—that it still remained near to him, +conditionally if not spatially, and was, as it were, gathering force for a +second attack. +</p> + +<p> +And, further, he intuitively understood that the relations between the two +animals had undergone a subtle change: that the cat had become immeasurably +superior, confident, sure of itself in its own peculiar region, whereas Flame +had been weakened by an attack he could not comprehend and knew not how to +reply to. Though not yet afraid, he was defiant—ready to act against a +fear that he felt to be approaching. He was no longer fatherly and protective +towards the cat. Smoke held the key to the situation; and both he and the cat +knew it. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, as the minutes passed, John Silence sat and waited, keenly on the alert, +wondering how soon the attack would be renewed, and at what point it would be +diverted from the animals and directed upon himself. +</p> + +<p> +The book lay on the floor beside him, his notes were complete. With one hand on +the cat’s fur, and the dog’s front paws resting against his feet, +the three of them dozed comfortably before the hot fire while the night wore on +and the silence deepened towards midnight. +</p> + +<p> +It was well after one o’clock in the morning when Dr. Silence turned the +lamp out and lighted the candle preparatory to going up to bed. Then Smoke +suddenly woke with a loud sharp purr and sat up. It neither stretched, washed +nor turned: it listened. And the doctor, watching it, realised that a certain +indefinable change had come about that very moment in the room. A swift +readjustment of the forces within the four walls had taken place—a new +disposition of their personal equations. The balance was destroyed, the former +harmony gone. Smoke, most sensitive of barometers, had been the first to feel +it, but the dog was not slow to follow suit, for on looking down he noted that +Flame was no longer asleep. He was lying with eyes wide open, and that same +instant he sat up on his great haunches and began to growl. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence was in the act of taking the matches to re-light the lamp when an +audible movement in the room behind him made him pause. Smoke leaped down from +his knee and moved forward a few paces across the carpet. Then it stopped and +stared fixedly; and the doctor stood up on the rug to watch. +</p> + +<p> +As he rose the sound was repeated, and he discovered that it was not in the +room as he first thought, but outside, and that it came from more directions +than one. There was a rushing, sweeping noise against the window-panes, and +simultaneously a sound of something brushing against the door—out in the +hall. Smoke advanced sedately across the carpet, twitching his tail, and sat +down within a foot of the door. The influence that had destroyed the harmonious +conditions of the room had apparently moved in advance of its cause. Clearly, +something was about to happen. +</p> + +<p> +For the first time that night John Silence hesitated; the thought of that dark +narrow hall-way, choked with fog, and destitute of human comfort, was +unpleasant. He became aware of a faint creeping of his flesh. He knew, of +course, that the actual opening of the door was not necessary to the invasion +of the room that was about to take place, since neither doors nor windows, nor +any other solid barriers could interpose an obstacle to what was seeking +entrance. Yet the opening of the door would be significant and symbolic, and he +distinctly shrank from it. +</p> + +<p> +But for a moment only. Smoke, turning with a show of impatience, recalled him +to his purpose, and he moved past the sitting, watching creature, and +deliberately opened the door to its full width. +</p> + +<p> +What subsequently happened, happened in the feeble and flickering light of the +solitary candle on the mantlepiece. +</p> + +<p> +Through the opened door he saw the hall, dimly lit and thick with fog. Nothing, +of course, was visible—nothing but the hat-stand, the African spears in +dark lines upon the wall and the high-backed wooden chair standing grotesquely +underneath on the oilcloth floor. For one instant the fog seemed to move and +thicken oddly; but he set that down to the score of the imagination. The door +had opened upon nothing. +</p> + +<p> +Yet Smoke apparently thought otherwise, and the deep growling of the collie +from the mat at the back of the room seemed to confirm his judgment. +</p> + +<p> +For, proud and self-possessed, the cat had again risen to his feet, and having +advanced to the door, was now ushering some one slowly into the room. Nothing +could have been more evident. He paced from side to side, bowing his little +head with great <i>empressement</i> and holding his stiffened tail aloft like a +flag-staff. He turned this way and that, mincing to and fro, and showing signs +of supreme satisfaction. He was in his element. He welcomed the intrusion, and +apparently reckoned that his companions, the doctor and the dog, would welcome +it likewise. +</p> + +<p> +The Intruder had returned for a second attack. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence moved slowly backwards and took up his position on the hearthrug, +keying himself up to a condition of concentrated attention. +</p> + +<p> +He noted that Flame stood beside him, facing the room, with body motionless, +and head moving swiftly from side to side with a curious swaying movement. His +eyes were wide open, his back rigid, his neck and jaws thrust forward, his legs +tense and ready to leap. Savage, ready for attack or defence, yet dreadfully +puzzled and perhaps already a little cowed, he stood and stared, the hair on +his spine and sides positively bristling outwards as though a wind played +through it. In the dim firelight he looked like a great yellow-haired wolf, +silent, eyes shooting dark fire, exceedingly formidable. It was Flame, the +terrible. +</p> + +<p> +Smoke, meanwhile, advanced from the door towards the middle of the room, +adopting the very slow pace of an invisible companion. A few feet away it +stopped and began to smile and blink its eyes. There was something deliberately +coaxing in its attitude as it stood there undecided on the carpet, clearly +wishing to effect some sort of introduction between the Intruder and its canine +friend and ally. It assumed its most winning manners, purring, smiling, looking +persuasively from one to the other, and making quick tentative steps first in +one direction and then in the other. There had always existed such perfect +understanding between them in everything. Surely Flame would appreciate +Smoke’s intention now, and acquiesce. +</p> + +<p> +But the old collie made no advances. He bared his teeth, lifting his lips till +the gums showed, and stood stockstill with fixed eyes and heaving sides. The +doctor moved a little farther back, watching intently the smallest movement, +and it was just then he divined suddenly from the cat’s behaviour and +attitude that it was not only a single companion it had ushered into the room, +but <i>several</i>. It kept crossing over from one to the other, looking up at +each in turn. It sought to win over the dog to friendliness with them all. The +original Intruder had come back with reinforcements. And at the same time he +further realised that the Intruder was something more than a blindly acting +force, impersonal though destructive. It was a Personality, and moreover a +great personality. And it was accompanied for the purposes of assistance by a +host of other personalities, minor in degree, but similar in kind. +</p> + +<p> +He braced himself in the corner against the mantelpiece and waited, his whole +being roused to defence, for he was now fully aware that the attack had spread +to include himself as well as the animals, and he must be on the alert. He +strained his eyes through the foggy atmosphere, trying in vain to see what the +cat and dog saw; but the candlelight threw an uncertain and flickering light +across the room and his eyes discerned nothing. On the floor Smoke moved softly +in front of him like a black shadow, his eyes gleaming as he turned his head, +still trying with many insinuating gestures and much purring to bring about the +introductions he desired. +</p> + +<p> +But it was all in vain. Flame stood riveted to one spot, motionless as a figure +carved in stone. +</p> + +<p> +Some minutes passed, during which only the cat moved, and then there came a +sharp change. Flame began to back towards the wall. He moved his head from side +to side as he went, sometimes turning to snap at something almost behind him. +They were advancing upon him, trying to surround him. His distress became very +marked from now onwards, and it seemed to the doctor that his anger merged into +genuine terror and became overwhelmed by it. The savage growl sounded +perilously like a whine, and more than once he tried to dive past his +master’s legs, as though hunting for a way of escape. He was trying to +avoid something that everywhere blocked the way. +</p> + +<p> +This terror of the indomitable fighter impressed the doctor enormously; yet +also painfully; stirring his impatience; for he had never before seen the dog +show signs of giving in, and it distressed him to witness it. He knew, however, +that he was not giving in easily, and understood that it was really impossible +for him to gauge the animal’s sensations properly at all. What Flame +felt, and saw, must be terrible indeed to turn him all at once into a coward. +He faced something that made him afraid of more than his life merely. The +doctor spoke a few quick words of encouragement to him, and stroked the +bristling hair. But without much success. The collie seemed already beyond the +reach of comfort such as that, and the collapse of the old dog followed indeed +very speedily after this. +</p> + +<p> +And Smoke, meanwhile, remained behind, watching the advance, but not joining in +it; sitting, pleased and expectant, considering that all was going well and as +it wished. It was kneading on the carpet with its front paws—slowly, +laboriously, as though its feet were dipped in treacle. The sound its claws +made as they caught in the threads was distinctly audible. It was still +smiling, blinking, purring. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the collie uttered a poignant short bark and leaped heavily to one +side. His bared teeth traced a line of whiteness through the gloom. The next +instant he dashed past his master’s legs, almost upsetting his balance, +and shot out into the room, where he went blundering wildly against walls and +furniture. But that bark was significant; the doctor had heard it before and +knew what it meant: for it was the cry of the fighter against odds and it meant +that the old beast had found his courage again. Possibly it was only the +courage of despair, but at any rate the fighting would be terrific. And Dr. +Silence understood, too, that he dared not interfere. Flame must fight his own +enemies in his own way. +</p> + +<p> +But the cat, too, had heard that dreadful bark; and it, too, had understood. +This was more than it had bargained for. Across the dim shadows of that haunted +room there must have passed some secret signal of distress between the animals. +Smoke stood up and looked swiftly about him. He uttered a piteous meow and +trotted smartly away into the greater darkness by the windows. What his object +was only those endowed with the spirit-like intelligence of cats might know. +But, at any rate, he had at last ranged himself on the side of his friend. And +the little beast meant business. +</p> + +<p> +At the same moment the collie managed to gain the door. The doctor saw him rush +through into the hall like a flash of yellow light. He shot across the +oilcloth, and tore up the stairs, but in another second he appeared again, +flying down the steps and landing at the bottom in a tumbling heap, whining, +cringing, terrified. The doctor saw him slink back into the room again and +crawl round by the wall towards the cat. Was, then, even the staircase +occupied? Did <i>They</i> stand also in the hall? Was the whole house crowded +from floor to ceiling? +</p> + +<p> +The thought came to add to the keen distress he felt at the sight of the +collie’s discomfiture. And, indeed, his own personal distress had +increased in a marked degree during the past minutes, and continued to increase +steadily to the climax. He recognised that the drain on his own vitality grew +steadily, and that the attack was now directed against himself even more than +against the defeated dog, and the too much deceived cat. +</p> + +<p> +It all seemed so rapid and uncalculated after that—the events that took +place in this little modern room at the top of Putney Hill between midnight and +sunrise—that Dr. Silence was hardly able to follow and remember it all. +It came about with such uncanny swiftness and terror; the light was so +uncertain; the movements of the black cat so difficult to follow on the dark +carpet, and the doctor himself so weary and taken by surprise—that he +found it almost impossible to observe accurately, or to recall afterwards +precisely what it was he had seen or in what order the incidents had taken +place. He never could understand what defect of vision on his part made it seem +as though the cat had duplicated itself at first, and then increased +indefinitely, so that there were at least a dozen of them darting silently +about the floor, leaping softly on to chairs and tables, passing like shadows +from the open door to the end of the room, all black as sin, with brilliant +green eyes flashing fire in all directions. It was like the reflections from a +score of mirrors placed round the walls at different angles. Nor could he make +out at the time why the size of the room seemed to have altered, grown much +larger, and why it extended away behind him where ordinarily the wall should +have been. The snarling of the enraged and terrified collie sounded sometimes +so far away; the ceiling seemed to have raised itself so much higher than +before, and much of the furniture had changed in appearance and shifted +marvellously. +</p> + +<p> +It was all so confused and confusing, as though the little room he knew had +become merged and transformed into the dimensions of quite another chamber, +that came to him, with its host of cats and its strange distances, in a sort of +vision. +</p> + +<p> +But these changes came about a little later, and at a time when his attention +was so concentrated upon the proceedings of Smoke and the collie, that he only +observed them, as it were, subconsciously. And the excitement, the flickering +candlelight, the distress he felt for the collie, and the distorting atmosphere +of fog were the poorest possible allies to careful observation. +</p> + +<p> +At first he was only aware that the dog was repeating his short dangerous bark +from time to time, snapping viciously at the empty air, a foot or so from the +ground. Once, indeed, he sprang upwards and forwards, working furiously with +teeth and paws, and with a noise like wolves fighting, but only to dash back +the next minute against the wall behind him. Then, after lying still for a bit, +he rose to a crouching position as though to spring again, snarling horribly +and making short half-circles with lowered head. And Smoke all the while meowed +piteously by the window as though trying to draw the attack upon himself. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that the rush of the whole dreadful business seemed to turn aside +from the dog and direct itself upon his own person. The collie had made another +spring and fallen back with a crash into the corner, where he made noise enough +in his savage rage to waken the dead before he fell to whining and then finally +lay still. And directly afterwards the doctor’s own distress became +intolerably acute. He had made a half movement forward to come to the rescue +when a veil that was denser than mere fog seemed to drop down over the scene, +draping room, walls, animals and fire in a mist of darkness and folding also +about his own mind. Other forms moved silently across the field of vision, +forms that he recognised from previous experiments, and welcomed not. Unholy +thoughts began to crowd into his brain, sinister suggestions of evil presented +themselves seductively. Ice seemed to settle about his heart, and his mind +trembled. He began to lose memory—memory of his identity, of where he +was, of what he ought to do. The very foundations of his strength were shaken. +His will seemed paralysed. +</p> + +<p> +And it was then that the room filled with this horde of cats, all dark as the +night, all silent, all with lamping eyes of green fire. The dimensions of the +place altered and shifted. He was in a much larger space. The whining of the +dog sounded far away, and all about him the cats flew busily to and fro, +silently playing their tearing, rushing game of evil, weaving the pattern of +their dark purpose upon the floor. He strove hard to collect himself and +remember the words of power he had made use of before in similar dread +positions where his dangerous practice had sometimes led; but he could recall +nothing consecutively; a mist lay over his mind and memory; he felt dazed and +his forces scattered. The deeps within were too troubled for healing power to +come out of them. +</p> + +<p> +It was glamour, of course, he realised afterwards, the strong glamour thrown +upon his imagination by some powerful personality behind the veil; but at the +time he was not sufficiently aware of this and, as with all true glamour, was +unable to grasp where the true ended and the false began. He was caught +momentarily in the same vortex that had sought to lure the cat to destruction +through its delight, and threatened utterly to overwhelm the dog through its +terror. +</p> + +<p> +There came a sound in the chimney behind him like wind booming and tearing its +way down. The windows rattled. The candle flickered and went out. The glacial +atmosphere closed round him with the cold of death, and a great rushing sound +swept by overhead as though the ceiling had lifted to a great height. He heard +the door shut. Far away it sounded. He felt lost, shelterless in the depths of +his soul. Yet still he held out and resisted while the climax of the fight came +nearer and nearer.... He had stepped into the stream of forces awakened by +Pender and he knew that he must withstand them to the end or come to a +conclusion that it was not good for a man to come to. Something from the region +of utter cold was upon him. +</p> + +<p> +And then quite suddenly, through the confused mists about him, there slowly +rose up the Personality that had been all the time directing the battle. Some +force entered his being that shook him as the tempest shakes a leaf, and close +against his eyes—clean level with his face—he found himself staring +into the wreck of a vast dark Countenance, a countenance that was terrible even +in its ruin. +</p> + +<p> +For ruined it was, and terrible it was, and the mark of spiritual evil was +branded everywhere upon its broken features. Eyes, face and hair rose level +with his own, and for a space of time he never could properly measure, or +determine, these two, a man and a woman, looked straight into each +other’s visages and down into each other’s hearts. +</p> + +<p> +And John Silence, the soul with the good, unselfish motive, held his own +against the dark discarnate woman whose motive was pure evil, and whose soul +was on the side of the Dark Powers. +</p> + +<p> +It was the climax that touched the depth of power within him and began to +restore him slowly to his own. He was conscious, of course, of effort, and yet +it seemed no superhuman one, for he had recognised the character of his +opponent’s power, and he called upon the good within him to meet and +overcome it. The inner forces stirred and trembled in response to his call. +They did not at first come readily as was their habit, for under the spell of +glamour they had already been diabolically lulled into inactivity, but come +they eventually did, rising out of the inner spiritual nature he had learned +with so much time and pain to awaken to life. And power and confidence came +with them. He began to breathe deeply and regularly, and at the same time to +absorb into himself the forces opposed to him, and to <i>turn them to his own +account</i>. By ceasing to resist, and allowing the deadly stream to pour into +him unopposed, he used the very power supplied by his adversary and thus +enormously increased his own. +</p> + +<p> +For this spiritual alchemy he had learned. He understood that force ultimately +is everywhere one and the same; it is the motive behind that makes it good or +evil; and his motive was entirely unselfish. He knew—provided he was not +first robbed of self-control—how vicariously to absorb these evil +radiations into himself and change them magically into his own good purposes. +And, since his motive was pure and his soul fearless, they could not work him +harm. +</p> + +<p> +Thus he stood in the main stream of evil unwittingly attracted by Pender, +deflecting its course upon himself; and after passing through the purifying +filter of his own unselfishness these energies could only add to his store of +experience, of knowledge, and therefore of power. And, as his self-control +returned to him, he gradually accomplished this purpose, even though trembling +while he did so. +</p> + +<p> +Yet the struggle was severe, and in spite of the freezing chill of the air, the +perspiration poured down his face. Then, by slow degrees, the dark and dreadful +countenance faded, the glamour passed from his soul, the normal proportions +returned to walls and ceiling, the forms melted back into the fog, and the +whirl of rushing shadow-cats disappeared whence they came. +</p> + +<p> +And with the return of the consciousness of his own identity John Silence was +restored to the full control of his own will-power. In a deep, modulated voice +he began to utter certain rhythmical sounds that slowly rolled through the air +like a rising sea, filling the room with powerful vibratory activities that +whelmed all irregularities of lesser vibrations in its own swelling tone. He +made certain sigils, gestures and movements at the same time. For several +minutes he continued to utter these words, until at length the growing volume +dominated the whole room and mastered the manifestation of all that opposed it. +For just as he understood the spiritual alchemy that can transmute evil forces +by raising them into higher channels, so he knew from long study the occult use +of sound, and its direct effect upon the plastic region wherein the powers of +spiritual evil work their fell purposes. Harmony was restored first of all to +his own soul, and thence to the room and all its occupants. +</p> + +<p> +And, after himself, the first to recognise it was the old dog lying in his +corner. Flame began suddenly uttering sounds of pleasure, that +“something” between a growl and a grunt that dogs make upon being +restored to their master’s confidence. Dr. Silence heard the thumping of +the collie’s tail against the floor. And the grunt and the thumping +touched the depth of affection in the man’s heart, and gave him some +inkling of what agonies the dumb creature had suffered. +</p> + +<p> +Next, from the shadows by the window, a somewhat shrill purring announced the +restoration of the cat to its normal state. Smoke was advancing across the +carpet. He seemed very pleased with himself, and smiled with an expression of +supreme innocence. He was no shadow-cat, but real and full of his usual and +perfect self-possession. He marched along, picking his way delicately, but with +a stately dignity that suggested his ancestry with the majesty of Egypt. His +eyes no longer glared; they shone steadily before him, they radiated, not +excitement, but knowledge. Clearly he was anxious to make amends for the +mischief to which he had unwittingly lent himself owing to his subtle and +electric constitution. +</p> + +<p> +Still uttering his sharp high purrings he marched up to his master and rubbed +vigorously against his legs. Then he stood on his hind feet and pawed his knees +and stared beseechingly up into his face. He turned his head towards the corner +where the collie still lay, thumping his tail feebly and pathetically. +</p> + +<p> +John Silence understood. He bent down and stroked the creature’s living +fur, noting the line of bright blue sparks that followed the motion of his hand +down its back. And then they advanced together towards the corner where the dog +was. +</p> + +<p> +Smoke went first and put his nose gently against his friend’s muzzle, +purring while he rubbed, and uttering little soft sounds of affection in his +throat. The doctor lit the candle and brought it over. He saw the collie lying +on its side against the wall; it was utterly exhausted, and foam still hung +about its jaws. Its tail and eyes responded to the sound of its name, but it +was evidently very weak and overcome. Smoke continued to rub against its cheek +and nose and eyes, sometimes even standing on its body and kneading into the +thick yellow hair. Flame replied from time to time by little licks of the +tongue, most of them curiously misdirected. +</p> + +<p> +But Dr. Silence felt intuitively that something disastrous had happened, and +his heart was wrung. He stroked the dear body, feeling it over for bruises or +broken bones, but finding none. He fed it with what remained of the sandwiches +and milk, but the creature clumsily upset the saucer and lost the sandwiches +between its paws, so that the doctor had to feed it with his own hand. And all +the while Smoke meowed piteously. +</p> + +<p> +Then John Silence began to understand. He went across to the farther side of +the room and called aloud to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Flame, old man! come!” +</p> + +<p> +At any other time the dog would have been upon him in an instant, barking and +leaping to the shoulder. And even now he got up, though heavily and awkwardly, +to his feet. He started to run, wagging his tail more briskly. He collided +first with a chair, and then ran straight into a table. Smoke trotted close at +his side, trying his very best to guide him. But it was useless. Dr. Silence +had to lift him up into his own arms and carry him like a baby. For he was +blind. +</p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p> +It was a week later when John Silence called to see the author in his new +house, and found him well on the way to recovery and already busy again with +his writing. The haunted look had left his eyes, and he seemed cheerful and +confident. +</p> + +<p> +“Humour restored?” laughed the doctor, as soon as they were +comfortably settled in the room overlooking the Park. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve had no trouble since I left that dreadful place,” +returned Pender gratefully; “and thanks to you—” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor stopped him with a gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind that,” he said, “we’ll discuss your new +plans afterwards, and my scheme for relieving you of the house and helping you +settle elsewhere. Of course it must be pulled down, for it’s not fit for +any sensitive person to live in, and any other tenant might be afflicted in the +same way you were. Although, personally, I think the evil has exhausted itself +by now.” +</p> + +<p> +He told the astonished author something of his experiences in it with the +animals. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t pretend to understand,” Pender said, when the +account was finished, “but I and my wife are intensely relieved to be +free of it all. Only I must say I should like to know something of the former +history of the house. When we took it six months ago I heard no word against +it.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence drew a typewritten paper from his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“I can satisfy your curiosity to some extent,” he said, running his +eye over the sheets, and then replacing them in his coat; “for by my +secretary’s investigations I have been able to check certain information +obtained in the hypnotic trance by a ‘sensitive’ who helps me in +such cases. The former occupant who haunted you appears to have been a woman of +singularly atrocious life and character who finally suffered death by hanging, +after a series of crimes that appalled the whole of England and only came to +light by the merest chance. She came to her end in the year 1798, for it was +not this particular house she lived in, but a much larger one that then stood +upon the site it now occupies, and was then, of course, not in London, but in +the country. She was a person of intellect, possessed of a powerful, trained +will, and of consummate audacity, and I am convinced availed herself of the +resources of the lower magic to attain her ends. This goes far to explain the +virulence of the attack upon yourself, and why she is still able to carry on +after death the evil practices that formed her main purpose during life.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think that after death a soul can still consciously +direct—” gasped the author. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, as I told you before, that the forces of a powerful personality +may still persist after death in the line of their original momentum,” +replied the doctor; “and that strong thoughts and purposes can still +react upon suitably prepared brains long after their originators have passed +away. +</p> + +<p> +“If you knew anything of magic,” he pursued, “you would know +that thought is dynamic, and that it may call into existence forms and pictures +that may well exist for hundreds of years. For, not far removed from the region +of our human life is another region where float the waste and drift of all the +centuries, the limbo of the shells of the dead; a densely populated region +crammed with horror and abomination of all descriptions, and sometimes +galvanised into active life again by the will of a trained manipulator, a mind +versed in the practices of lower magic. That this woman understood its vile +commerce, I am persuaded, and the forces she set going during her life have +simply been accumulating ever since, and would have continued to do so had they +not been drawn down upon yourself, and afterwards discharged and satisfied +through me. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything might have brought down the attack, for, besides drugs, there +are certain violent emotions, certain moods of the soul, certain spiritual +fevers, if I may so call them, which directly open the inner being to a +cognisance of this astral region I have mentioned. In your case it happened to +be a peculiarly potent drug that did it. +</p> + +<p> +“But now, tell me,” he added, after a pause, handing to the +perplexed author a pencil drawing he had made of the dark countenance that had +appeared to him during the night on Putney Hill—“tell me if you +recognise this face?” +</p> + +<p> +Pender looked at the drawing closely, greatly astonished. He shuddered a little +as he looked. +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly,” he said, “it is the face I kept trying to +draw—dark, with the great mouth and jaw, and the drooping eye. That is +the woman.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence then produced from his pocket-book an old-fashioned woodcut of the +same person which his secretary had unearthed from the records of the Newgate +Calendar. The woodcut and the pencil drawing were two different aspects of the +same dreadful visage. The men compared them for some moments in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“It makes me thank God for the limitations of our senses,” said +Pender quietly, with a sigh; “continuous clairvoyance must be a sore +affliction.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is indeed,” returned John Silence significantly, “and if +all the people nowadays who claim to be clairvoyant were really so, the +statistics of suicide and lunacy would be considerably higher than they are. It +is little wonder,” he added, “that your sense of humour was +clouded, with the mind-forces of that dead monster trying to use your brain for +their dissemination. You have had an interesting adventure, Mr. Felix Pender, +and, let me add, a fortunate escape.” +</p> + +<p> +The author was about to renew his thanks when there came a sound of scratching +at the door, and the doctor sprang up quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s time for me to go. I left my dog on the step, but I +suppose—” +</p> + +<p> +Before he had time to open the door, it had yielded to the pressure behind it +and flew wide open to admit a great yellow-haired collie. The dog, wagging his +tail and contorting his whole body with delight, tore across the floor and +tried to leap up upon his owner’s breast. And there was laughter and +happiness in the old eyes; for they were clear again as the day. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CASE II: ANCIENT SORCERIES</h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p> +There are, it would appear, certain wholly unremarkable persons, with none of +the characteristics that invite adventure, who yet once or twice in the course +of their smooth lives undergo an experience so strange that the world catches +its breath—and looks the other way! And it was cases of this kind, +perhaps, more than any other, that fell into the wide-spread net of John +Silence, the psychic doctor, and, appealing to his deep humanity, to his +patience, and to his great qualities of spiritual sympathy, led often to the +revelation of problems of the strangest complexity, and of the profoundest +possible human interest. +</p> + +<p> +Matters that seemed almost too curious and fantastic for belief he loved to +trace to their hidden sources. To unravel a tangle in the very soul of +things—and to release a suffering human soul in the process—was +with him a veritable passion. And the knots he untied were, indeed, after +passing strange. +</p> + +<p> +The world, of course, asks for some plausible basis to which it can attach +credence—something it can, at least, pretend to explain. The adventurous +type it can understand: such people carry about with them an adequate +explanation of their exciting lives, and their characters obviously drive them +into the circumstances which produce the adventures. It expects nothing else +from them, and is satisfied. But dull, ordinary folk have no right to +out-of-the-way experiences, and the world having been led to expect otherwise, +is disappointed with them, not to say shocked. Its complacent judgment has been +rudely disturbed. +</p> + +<p> +“Such a thing happened to <i>that</i> man!” it cries—“a +commonplace person like that! It is too absurd! There must be something +wrong!” +</p> + +<p> +Yet there could be no question that something did actually happen to little +Arthur Vezin, something of the curious nature he described to Dr. Silence. +Outwardly or inwardly, it happened beyond a doubt, and in spite of the jeers of +his few friends who heard the tale, and observed wisely that “such a +thing might perhaps have come to Iszard, that crack-brained Iszard, or to that +odd fish Minski, but it could never have happened to commonplace little Vezin, +who was fore-ordained to live and die according to scale.” +</p> + +<p> +But, whatever his method of death was, Vezin certainly did not “live +according to scale” so far as this particular event in his otherwise +uneventful life was concerned; and to hear him recount it, and watch his pale +delicate features change, and hear his voice grow softer and more hushed as he +proceeded, was to know the conviction that his halting words perhaps failed +sometimes to convey. He lived the thing over again each time he told it. His +whole personality became muffled in the recital. It subdued him more than ever, +so that the tale became a lengthy apology for an experience that he deprecated. +He appeared to excuse himself and ask your pardon for having dared to take part +in so fantastic an episode. For little Vezin was a timid, gentle, sensitive +soul, rarely able to assert himself, tender to man and beast, and almost +constitutionally unable to say No, or to claim many things that should rightly +have been his. His whole scheme of life seemed utterly remote from anything +more exciting than missing a train or losing an umbrella on an omnibus. And +when this curious event came upon him he was already more years beyond forty +than his friends suspected or he cared to admit. +</p> + +<p> +John Silence, who heard him speak of his experience more than once, said that +he sometimes left out certain details and put in others; yet they were all +obviously true. The whole scene was unforgettably cinematographed on to his +mind. None of the details were imagined or invented. And when he told the story +with them all complete, the effect was undeniable. His appealing brown eyes +shone, and much of the charming personality, usually so carefully repressed, +came forward and revealed itself. His modesty was always there, of course, but +in the telling he forgot the present and allowed himself to appear almost +vividly as he lived again in the past of his adventure. +</p> + +<p> +He was on the way home when it happened, crossing northern France from some +mountain trip or other where he buried himself solitary-wise every summer. He +had nothing but an unregistered bag in the rack, and the train was jammed to +suffocation, most of the passengers being unredeemed holiday English. He +disliked them, not because they were his fellow-countrymen, but because they +were noisy and obtrusive, obliterating with their big limbs and tweed clothing +all the quieter tints of the day that brought him satisfaction and enabled him +to melt into insignificance and forget that he was anybody. These English +clashed about him like a brass band, making him feel vaguely that he ought to +be more self-assertive and obstreperous, and that he did not claim insistently +enough all kinds of things that he didn’t want and that were really +valueless, such as corner seats, windows up or down, and so forth. +</p> + +<p> +So that he felt uncomfortable in the train, and wished the journey were over +and he was back again living with his unmarried sister in Surbiton. +</p> + +<p> +And when the train stopped for ten panting minutes at the little station in +northern France, and he got out to stretch his legs on the platform, and saw to +his dismay a further batch of the British Isles debouching from another train, +it suddenly seemed impossible to him to continue the journey. Even <i>his</i> +flabby soul revolted, and the idea of staying a night in the little town and +going on next day by a slower, emptier train, flashed into his mind. The guard +was already shouting “<i>en voiture</i>” and the corridor of his +compartment was already packed when the thought came to him. And, for once, he +acted with decision and rushed to snatch his bag. +</p> + +<p> +Finding the corridor and steps impassable, he tapped at the window (for he had +a corner seat) and begged the Frenchman who sat opposite to hand his luggage +out to him, explaining in his wretched French that he intended to break the +journey there. And this elderly Frenchman, he declared, gave him a look, half +of warning, half of reproach, that to his dying day he could never forget; +handed the bag through the window of the moving train; and at the same time +poured into his ears a long sentence, spoken rapidly and low, of which he was +able to comprehend only the last few words: “<i>à cause du sommeil et à +cause des chats</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +In reply to Dr. Silence, whose singular psychic acuteness at once seized upon +this Frenchman as a vital point in the adventure, Vezin admitted that the man +had impressed him favourably from the beginning, though without being able to +explain why. They had sat facing one another during the four hours of the +journey, and though no conversation had passed between them—Vezin was +timid about his stuttering French—he confessed that his eyes were being +continually drawn to his face, almost, he felt, to rudeness, and that each, by +a dozen nameless little politenesses and attentions, had evinced the desire to +be kind. The men liked each other and their personalities did not clash, or +would not have clashed had they chanced to come to terms of acquaintance. The +Frenchman, indeed, seemed to have exercised a silent protective influence over +the insignificant little Englishman, and without words or gestures betrayed +that he wished him well and would gladly have been of service to him. +</p> + +<p> +“And this sentence that he hurled at you after the bag?” asked John +Silence, smiling that peculiarly sympathetic smile that always melted the +prejudices of his patient, “were you unable to follow it exactly?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was so quick and low and vehement,” explained Vezin, in his +small voice, “that I missed practically the whole of it. I only caught +the few words at the very end, because he spoke them so clearly, and his face +was bent down out of the carriage window so near to mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘<i>À cause du sommeil et à cause des chats’?</i>” +repeated Dr. Silence, as though half speaking to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it exactly,” said Vezin; “which, I take it, +means something like ‘because of sleep and because of the cats,’ +doesn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, that’s how I should translate it,” the doctor +observed shortly, evidently not wishing to interrupt more than necessary. +</p> + +<p> +“And the rest of the sentence—all the first part I couldn’t +understand, I mean—was a warning not to do something—not to stop in +the town, or at some particular place in the town, perhaps. That was the +impression it made on me.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, of course, the train rushed off, and left Vezin standing on the platform +alone and rather forlorn. +</p> + +<p> +The little town climbed in straggling fashion up a sharp hill rising out of the +plain at the back of the station, and was crowned by the twin towers of the +ruined cathedral peeping over the summit. From the station itself it looked +uninteresting and modern, but the fact was that the mediaeval position lay out +of sight just beyond the crest. And once he reached the top and entered the old +streets, he stepped clean out of modern life into a bygone century. The noise +and bustle of the crowded train seemed days away. The spirit of this silent +hill-town, remote from tourists and motor-cars, dreaming its own quiet life +under the autumn sun, rose up and cast its spell upon him. Long before he +recognised this spell he acted under it. He walked softly, almost on tiptoe, +down the winding narrow streets where the gables all but met over his head, and +he entered the doorway of the solitary inn with a deprecating and modest +demeanour that was in itself an apology for intruding upon the place and +disturbing its dream. +</p> + +<p> +At first, however, Vezin said, he noticed very little of all this. The attempt +at analysis came much later. What struck him then was only the delightful +contrast of the silence and peace after the dust and noisy rattle of the train. +He felt soothed and stroked like a cat. +</p> + +<p> +“Like a cat, you said?” interrupted John Silence, quickly catching +him up. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. At the very start I felt that.” He laughed apologetically. +“I felt as though the warmth and the stillness and the comfort made me +purr. It seemed to be the general mood of the whole place—then.” +</p> + +<p> +The inn, a rambling ancient house, the atmosphere of the old coaching days +still about it, apparently did not welcome him too warmly. He felt he was only +tolerated, he said. But it was cheap and comfortable, and the delicious cup of +afternoon tea he ordered at once made him feel really very pleased with himself +for leaving the train in this bold, original way. For to him it had seemed bold +and original. He felt something of a dog. His room, too, soothed him with its +dark panelling and low irregular ceiling, and the long sloping passage that led +to it seemed the natural pathway to a real Chamber of Sleep—a little dim +cubby hole out of the world where noise could not enter. It looked upon the +courtyard at the back. It was all very charming, and made him think of himself +as dressed in very soft velvet somehow, and the floors seemed padded, the walls +provided with cushions. The sounds of the streets could not penetrate there. It +was an atmosphere of absolute rest that surrounded him. +</p> + +<p> +On engaging the two-franc room he had interviewed the only person who seemed to +be about that sleepy afternoon, an elderly waiter with Dundreary whiskers and a +drowsy courtesy, who had ambled lazily towards him across the stone yard; but +on coming downstairs again for a little promenade in the town before dinner he +encountered the proprietress herself. She was a large woman whose hands, feet, +and features seemed to swim towards him out of a sea of person. They emerged, +so to speak. But she had great dark, vivacious eyes that counteracted the bulk +of her body, and betrayed the fact that in reality she was both vigorous and +alert. When he first caught sight of her she was knitting in a low chair +against the sunlight of the wall, and something at once made him see her as a +great tabby cat, dozing, yet awake, heavily sleepy, and yet at the same time +prepared for instantaneous action. A great mouser on the watch occurred to him. +</p> + +<p> +She took him in with a single comprehensive glance that was polite without +being cordial. Her neck, he noticed, was extraordinarily supple in spite of its +proportions, for it turned so easily to follow him, and the head it carried +bowed so very flexibly. +</p> + +<p> +“But when she looked at me, you know,” said Vezin, with that little +apologetic smile in his brown eyes, and that faintly deprecating gesture of the +shoulders that was characteristic of him, “the odd notion came to me that +really she had intended to make quite a different movement, and that with a +single bound she could have leaped at me across the width of that stone yard +and pounced upon me like some huge cat upon a mouse.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed a little soft laugh, and Dr. Silence made a note in his book without +interrupting, while Vezin proceeded in a tone as though he feared he had +already told too much and more than we could believe. +</p> + +<p> +“Very soft, yet very active she was, for all her size and mass, and I +felt she knew what I was doing even after I had passed and was behind her back. +She spoke to me, and her voice was smooth and running. She asked if I had my +luggage, and was comfortable in my room, and then added that dinner was at +seven o’clock, and that they were very early people in this little +country town. Clearly, she intended to convey that late hours were not +encouraged.” +</p> + +<p> +Evidently, she contrived by voice and manner to give him the impression that +here he would be “managed,” that everything would be arranged and +planned for him, and that he had nothing to do but fall into the groove and +obey. No decided action or sharp personal effort would be looked for from him. +It was the very reverse of the train. He walked quietly out into the street +feeling soothed and peaceful. He realised that he was in a <i>milieu</i> that +suited him and stroked him the right way. It was so much easier to be obedient. +He began to purr again, and to feel that all the town purred with him. +</p> + +<p> +About the streets of that little town he meandered gently, falling deeper and +deeper into the spirit of repose that characterised it. With no special aim he +wandered up and down, and to and fro. The September sunshine fell slantingly +over the roofs. Down winding alleyways, fringed with tumbling gables and open +casements, he caught fairylike glimpses of the great plain below, and of the +meadows and yellow copses lying like a dream-map in the haze. The spell of the +past held very potently here, he felt. +</p> + +<p> +The streets were full of picturesquely garbed men and women, all busy enough, +going their respective ways; but no one took any notice of him or turned to +stare at his obviously English appearance. He was even able to forget that with +his tourist appearance he was a false note in a charming picture, and he melted +more and more into the scene, feeling delightfully insignificant and +unimportant and unselfconscious. It was like becoming part of a softly coloured +dream which he did not even realise to be a dream. +</p> + +<p> +On the eastern side the hill fell away more sharply, and the plain below ran +off rather suddenly into a sea of gathering shadows in which the little patches +of woodland looked like islands and the stubble fields like deep water. Here he +strolled along the old ramparts of ancient fortifications that once had been +formidable, but now were only vision-like with their charming mingling of +broken grey walls and wayward vine and ivy. From the broad coping on which he +sat for a moment, level with the rounded tops of clipped plane trees, he saw +the esplanade far below lying in shadow. Here and there a yellow sunbeam crept +in and lay upon the fallen yellow leaves, and from the height he looked down +and saw that the townsfolk were walking to and fro in the cool of the evening. +He could just hear the sound of their slow footfalls, and the murmur of their +voices floated up to him through the gaps between the trees. The figures looked +like shadows as he caught glimpses of their quiet movements far below. +</p> + +<p> +He sat there for some time pondering, bathed in the waves of murmurs and +half-lost echoes that rose to his ears, muffled by the leaves of the plane +trees. The whole town, and the little hill out of which it grew as naturally as +an ancient wood, seemed to him like a being lying there half asleep on the +plain and crooning to itself as it dozed. +</p> + +<p> +And, presently, as he sat lazily melting into its dream, a sound of horns and +strings and wood instruments rose to his ears, and the town band began to play +at the far end of the crowded terrace below to the accompaniment of a very +soft, deep-throated drum. Vezin was very sensitive to music, knew about it +intelligently, and had even ventured, unknown to his friends, upon the +composition of quiet melodies with low-running chords which he played to +himself with the soft pedal when no one was about. And this music floating up +through the trees from an invisible and doubtless very picturesque band of the +townspeople wholly charmed him. He recognised nothing that they played, and it +sounded as though they were simply improvising without a conductor. No +definitely marked time ran through the pieces, which ended and began oddly +after the fashion of wind through an Aeolian harp. It was part of the place and +scene, just as the dying sunlight and faintly breathing wind were part of the +scene and hour, and the mellow notes of old-fashioned plaintive horns, pierced +here and there by the sharper strings, all half smothered by the continuous +booming of the deep drum, touched his soul with a curiously potent spell that +was almost too engrossing to be quite pleasant. +</p> + +<p> +There was a certain queer sense of bewitchment in it all. The music seemed to +him oddly unartificial. It made him think of trees swept by the wind, of night +breezes singing among wires and chimney-stacks, or in the rigging of invisible +ships; or—and the simile leaped up in his thoughts with a sudden +sharpness of suggestion—a chorus of animals, of wild creatures, somewhere +in desolate places of the world, crying and singing as animals will, to the +moon. He could fancy he heard the wailing, half-human cries of cats upon the +tiles at night, rising and falling with weird intervals of sound, and this +music, muffled by distance and the trees, made him think of a queer company of +these creatures on some roof far away in the sky, uttering their solemn music +to one another and the moon in chorus. +</p> + +<p> +It was, he felt at the time, a singular image to occur to him, yet it expressed +his sensation pictorially better than anything else. The instruments played +such impossibly odd intervals, and the crescendos and diminuendos were so very +suggestive of cat-land on the tiles at night, rising swiftly, dropping without +warning to deep notes again, and all in such strange confusion of discords and +accords. But, at the same time a plaintive sweetness resulted on the whole, and +the discords of these half-broken instruments were so singular that they did +not distress his musical soul like fiddles out of tune. +</p> + +<p> +He listened a long time, wholly surrendering himself as his character was, and +then strolled homewards in the dusk as the air grew chilly. +</p> + +<p> +“There was nothing to alarm?” put in Dr. Silence briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely nothing,” said Vezin; “but you know it was all so +fantastical and charming that my imagination was profoundly impressed. Perhaps, +too,” he continued, gently explanatory, “it was this stirring of my +imagination that caused other impressions; for, as I walked back, the spell of +the place began to steal over me in a dozen ways, though all intelligible ways. +But there were other things I could not account for in the least, even +then.” +</p> + +<p> +“Incidents, you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly incidents, I think. A lot of vivid sensations crowded themselves +upon my mind and I could trace them to no causes. It was just after sunset and +the tumbled old buildings traced magical outlines against an opalescent sky of +gold and red. The dusk was running down the twisted streets. All round the hill +the plain pressed in like a dim sea, its level rising with the darkness. The +spell of this kind of scene, you know, can be very moving, and it was so that +night. Yet I felt that what came to me had nothing directly to do with the +mystery and wonder of the scene.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not merely the subtle transformations of the spirit that come with +beauty,” put in the doctor, noticing his hesitation. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly,” Vezin went on, duly encouraged and no longer so fearful +of our smiles at his expense. “The impressions came from somewhere else. +For instance, down the busy main street where men and women were bustling home +from work, shopping at stalls and barrows, idly gossiping in groups, and all +the rest of it, I saw that I aroused no interest and that no one turned to +stare at me as a foreigner and stranger. I was utterly ignored, and my presence +among them excited no special interest or attention. +</p> + +<p> +“And then, quite suddenly, it dawned upon me with conviction that all the +time this indifference and inattention were merely feigned. Everybody as a +matter of fact was watching me closely. Every movement I made was known and +observed. Ignoring me was all a pretence—an elaborate pretence.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment and looked at us to see if we were smiling, and then +continued, reassured— +</p> + +<p> +“It is useless to ask me how I noticed this, because I simply cannot +explain it. But the discovery gave me something of a shock. Before I got back +to the inn, however, another curious thing rose up strongly in my mind and +forced my recognition of it as true. And this, too, I may as well say at once, +was equally inexplicable to me. I mean I can only give you the fact, as fact it +was to me.” +</p> + +<p> +The little man left his chair and stood on the mat before the fire. His +diffidence lessened from now onwards, as he lost himself again in the magic of +the old adventure. His eyes shone a little already as he talked. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he went on, his soft voice rising somewhat with his +excitement, “I was in a shop when it came to me first—though the +idea must have been at work for a long time subconsciously to appear in so +complete a form all at once. I was buying socks, I think,” he laughed, +“and struggling with my dreadful French, when it struck me that the woman +in the shop did not care two pins whether I bought anything or not. She was +indifferent whether she made a sale or did not make a sale. She was only +pretending to sell. +</p> + +<p> +“This sounds a very small and fanciful incident to build upon what +follows. But really it was not small. I mean it was the spark that lit the line +of powder and ran along to the big blaze in my mind. +</p> + +<p> +“For the whole town, I suddenly realised, was something other than I so +far saw it. The real activities and interests of the people were elsewhere and +otherwise than appeared. Their true lives lay somewhere out of sight behind the +scenes. Their busy-ness was but the outward semblance that masked their actual +purposes. They bought and sold, and ate and drank, and walked about the +streets, yet all the while the main stream of their existence lay somewhere +beyond my ken, underground, in secret places. In the shops and at the stalls +they did not care whether I purchased their articles or not; at the inn, they +were indifferent to my staying or going; their life lay remote from my own, +springing from hidden, mysterious sources, coursing out of sight, unknown. It +was all a great elaborate pretence, assumed possibly for my benefit, or +possibly for purposes of their own. But the main current of their energies ran +elsewhere. I almost felt as an unwelcome foreign substance might be expected to +feel when it has found its way into the human system and the whole body +organises itself to eject it or to absorb it. The town was doing this very +thing to me. +</p> + +<p> +“This bizarre notion presented itself forcibly to my mind as I walked +home to the inn, and I began busily to wonder wherein the true life of this +town could lie and what were the actual interests and activities of its hidden +life. +</p> + +<p> +“And, now that my eyes were partly opened, I noticed other things too +that puzzled me, first of which, I think, was the extraordinary silence of the +whole place. Positively, the town was muffled. Although the streets were paved +with cobbles the people moved about silently, softly, with padded feet, like +cats. Nothing made noise. All was hushed, subdued, muted. The very voices were +quiet, low-pitched like purring. Nothing clamorous, vehement or emphatic seemed +able to live in the drowsy atmosphere of soft dreaming that soothed this little +hill-town into its sleep. It was like the woman at the inn—an outward +repose screening intense inner activity and purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“Yet there was no sign of lethargy or sluggishness anywhere about it. The +people were active and alert. Only a magical and uncanny softness lay over them +all like a spell.” +</p> + +<p> +Vezin passed his hand across his eyes for a moment as though the memory had +become very vivid. His voice had run off into a whisper so that we heard the +last part with difficulty. He was telling a true thing obviously, yet something +that he both liked and hated telling. +</p> + +<p> +“I went back to the inn,” he continued presently in a louder voice, +“and dined. I felt a new strange world about me. My old world of reality +receded. Here, whether I liked it or no, was something new and +incomprehensible. I regretted having left the train so impulsively. An +adventure was upon me, and I loathed adventures as foreign to my nature. +Moreover, this was the beginning apparently of an adventure somewhere deep +within me, in a region I could not check or measure, and a feeling of alarm +mingled itself with my wonder—alarm for the stability of what I had for +forty years recognised as my ‘personality.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I went upstairs to bed, my mind teeming with thoughts that were unusual +to me, and of rather a haunting description. By way of relief I kept thinking +of that nice, prosaic noisy train and all those wholesome, blustering +passengers. I almost wished I were with them again. But my dreams took me +elsewhere. I dreamed of cats, and soft-moving creatures, and the silence of +life in a dim muffled world beyond the senses.” +</p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p> +Vezin stayed on from day to day, indefinitely, much longer than he had +intended. He felt in a kind of dazed, somnolent condition. He did nothing in +particular, but the place fascinated him and he could not decide to leave. +Decisions were always very difficult for him and he sometimes wondered how he +had ever brought himself to the point of leaving the train. It seemed as though +some one else must have arranged it for him, and once or twice his thoughts ran +to the swarthy Frenchman who had sat opposite. If only he could have understood +that long sentence ending so strangely with “<i>à cause du sommeil et à +cause des chats</i>.” He wondered what it all meant. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the hushed softness of the town held him prisoner and he sought in +his muddling, gentle way to find out where the mystery lay, and what it was all +about. But his limited French and his constitutional hatred of active +investigation made it hard for him to buttonhole anybody and ask questions. He +was content to observe, and watch, and remain negative. +</p> + +<p> +The weather held on calm and hazy, and this just suited him. He wandered about +the town till he knew every street and alley. The people suffered him to come +and go without let or hindrance, though it became clearer to him every day that +he was never free himself from observation. The town watched him as a cat +watches a mouse. And he got no nearer to finding out what they were all so busy +with or where the main stream of their activities lay. This remained hidden. +The people were as soft and mysterious as cats. +</p> + +<p> +But that he was continually under observation became more evident from day to +day. +</p> + +<p> +For instance, when he strolled to the end of the town and entered a little +green public garden beneath the ramparts and seated himself upon one of the +empty benches in the sun, he was quite alone—at first. Not another seat +was occupied; the little park was empty, the paths deserted. Yet, within ten +minutes of his coming, there must have been fully twenty persons scattered +about him, some strolling aimlessly along the gravel walks, staring at the +flowers, and others seated on the wooden benches enjoying the sun like himself. +None of them appeared to take any notice of him; yet he understood quite well +they had all come there to watch. They kept him under close observation. In the +street they had seemed busy enough, hurrying upon various errands; yet these +were suddenly all forgotten and they had nothing to do but loll and laze in the +sun, their duties unremembered. Five minutes after he left, the garden was +again deserted, the seats vacant. But in the crowded street it was the same +thing again; he was never alone. He was ever in their thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +By degrees, too, he began to see how it was he was so cleverly watched, yet +without the appearance of it. The people did nothing <i>directly</i>. They +behaved <i>obliquely</i>. He laughed in his mind as the thought thus clothed +itself in words, but the phrase exactly described it. They looked at him from +angles which naturally should have led their sight in another direction +altogether. Their movements were oblique, too, so far as these concerned +himself. The straight, direct thing was not their way evidently. They did +nothing obviously. If he entered a shop to buy, the woman walked instantly away +and busied herself with something at the farther end of the counter, though +answering at once when he spoke, showing that she knew he was there and that +this was only her way of attending to him. It was the fashion of the cat she +followed. Even in the dining-room of the inn, the be-whiskered and courteous +waiter, lithe and silent in all his movements, never seemed able to come +straight to his table for an order or a dish. He came by zigzags, indirectly, +vaguely, so that he appeared to be going to another table altogether, and only +turned suddenly at the last moment, and was there beside him. +</p> + +<p> +Vezin smiled curiously to himself as he described how he began to realize these +things. Other tourists there were none in the hostel, but he recalled the +figures of one or two old men, inhabitants, who took their <i>déjeuner</i> and +dinner there, and remembered how fantastically they entered the room in similar +fashion. First, they paused in the doorway, peering about the room, and then, +after a temporary inspection, they came in, as it were, sideways, keeping close +to the walls so that he wondered which table they were making for, and at the +last minute making almost a little quick run to their particular seats. And +again he thought of the ways and methods of cats. +</p> + +<p> +Other small incidents, too, impressed him as all part of this queer, soft town +with its muffled, indirect life, for the way some of the people appeared and +disappeared with extraordinary swiftness puzzled him exceedingly. It may have +been all perfectly natural, he knew, yet he could not make it out how the +alleys swallowed them up and shot them forth in a second of time when there +were no visible doorways or openings near enough to explain the phenomenon. +Once he followed two elderly women who, he felt, had been particularly +examining him from across the street—quite near the inn this +was—and saw them turn the corner a few feet only in front of him. Yet +when he sharply followed on their heels he saw nothing but an utterly deserted +alley stretching in front of him with no sign of a living thing. And the only +opening through which they could have escaped was a porch some fifty yards +away, which not the swiftest human runner could have reached in time. +</p> + +<p> +And in just such sudden fashion people appeared, when he never expected them. +Once when he heard a great noise of fighting going on behind a low wall, and +hurried up to see what was going on, what should he see but a group of girls +and women engaged in vociferous conversation which instantly hushed itself to +the normal whispering note of the town when his head appeared over the wall. +And even then none of them turned to look at him directly, but slunk off with +the most unaccountable rapidity into doors and sheds across the yard. And their +voices, he thought, had sounded so like, so strangely like, the angry snarling +of fighting animals, almost of cats. +</p> + +<p> +The whole spirit of the town, however, continued to evade him as something +elusive, protean, screened from the outer world, and at the same time +intensely, genuinely vital; and, since he now formed part of its life, this +concealment puzzled and irritated him; more—it began rather to frighten +him. +</p> + +<p> +Out of the mists that slowly gathered about his ordinary surface thoughts, +there rose again the idea that the inhabitants were waiting for him to declare +himself, to take an attitude, to do this, or to do that; and that when he had +done so they in their turn would at length make some direct response, accepting +or rejecting him. Yet the vital matter concerning which his decision was +awaited came no nearer to him. +</p> + +<p> +Once or twice he purposely followed little processions or groups of the +citizens in order to find out, if possible, on what purpose they were bent; but +they always discovered him in time and dwindled away, each individual going his +or her own way. It was always the same: he never could learn what their main +interest was. The cathedral was ever empty, the old church of St. Martin, at +the other end of the town, deserted. They shopped because they had to, and not +because they wished to. The booths stood neglected, the stalls unvisited, the +little <i>cafés</i> desolate. Yet the streets were always full, the townsfolk +ever on the bustle. +</p> + +<p> +“Can it be,” he thought to himself, yet with a deprecating laugh +that he should have dared to think anything so odd, “can it be that these +people are people of the twilight, that they live only at night their real +life, and come out honestly only with the dusk? That during the day they make a +sham though brave pretence, and after the sun is down their true life begins? +Have they the souls of night-things, and is the whole blessed town in the hands +of the cats?” +</p> + +<p> +The fancy somehow electrified him with little shocks of shrinking and dismay. +Yet, though he affected to laugh, he knew that he was beginning to feel more +than uneasy, and that strange forces were tugging with a thousand invisible +cords at the very centre of his being. Something utterly remote from his +ordinary life, something that had not waked for years, began faintly to stir in +his soul, sending feelers abroad into his brain and heart, shaping queer +thoughts and penetrating even into certain of his minor actions. Something +exceedingly vital to himself, to his soul, hung in the balance. +</p> + +<p> +And, always when he returned to the inn about the hour of sunset, he saw the +figures of the townsfolk stealing through the dusk from their shop doors, +moving sentry-wise to and fro at the corners of the streets, yet always +vanishing silently like shadows at his near approach. And as the inn invariably +closed its doors at ten o’clock he had never yet found the opportunity he +rather half-heartedly sought to see for himself what account the town could +give of itself at night. +</p> + +<p> +“—<i>à cause du sommeil et à cause des chats</i>”—the +words now rang in his ears more and more often, though still as yet without any +definite meaning. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, something made him sleep like the dead. +</p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p> +It was, I think, on the fifth day—though in this detail his story +sometimes varied—that he made a definite discovery which increased his +alarm and brought him up to a rather sharp climax. Before that he had already +noticed that a change was going forward and certain subtle transformations +being brought about in his character which modified several of his minor +habits. And he had affected to ignore them. Here, however, was something he +could no longer ignore; and it startled him. +</p> + +<p> +At the best of times he was never very positive, always negative rather, +compliant and acquiescent; yet, when necessity arose he was capable of +reasonably vigorous action and could take a strongish decision. The discovery +he now made that brought him up with such a sharp turn was that this power had +positively dwindled to nothing. He found it impossible to make up his mind. +For, on this fifth day, he realised that he had stayed long enough in the town +and that for reasons he could only vaguely define to himself it was wiser +<i>and safer</i> that he should leave. +</p> + +<p> +And he found that he could not leave! +</p> + +<p> +This is difficult to describe in words, and it was more by gesture and the +expression of his face that he conveyed to Dr. Silence the state of impotence +he had reached. All this spying and watching, he said, had as it were spun a +net about his feet so that he was trapped and powerless to escape; he felt like +a fly that had blundered into the intricacies of a great web; he was caught, +imprisoned, and could not get away. It was a distressing sensation. A numbness +had crept over his will till it had become almost incapable of decision. The +mere thought of vigorous action—action towards escape—began to +terrify him. All the currents of his life had turned inwards upon himself, +striving to bring to the surface something that lay buried almost beyond reach, +determined to force his recognition of something he had long +forgotten—forgotten years upon years, centuries almost ago. It seemed as +though a window deep within his being would presently open and reveal an +entirely new world, yet somehow a world that was not unfamiliar. Beyond that, +again, he fancied a great curtain hung; and when that too rolled up he would +see still farther into this region and at last understand something of the +secret life of these extraordinary people. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this why they wait and watch?” he asked himself with rather a +shaking heart, “for the time when I shall join them—or refuse to +join them? Does the decision rest with me after all, and not with them?” +</p> + +<p> +And it was at this point that the sinister character of the adventure first +really declared itself, and he became genuinely alarmed. The stability of his +rather fluid little personality was at stake, he felt, and something in his +heart turned coward. +</p> + +<p> +Why otherwise should he have suddenly taken to walking stealthily, silently, +making as little sound as possible, for ever looking behind him? Why else +should he have moved almost on tiptoe about the passages of the practically +deserted inn, and when he was abroad have found himself deliberately taking +advantage of what cover presented itself? And why, if he was not afraid, should +the wisdom of staying indoors after sundown have suddenly occurred to him as +eminently desirable? Why, indeed? +</p> + +<p> +And, when John Silence gently pressed him for an explanation of these things, +he admitted apologetically that he had none to give. +</p> + +<p> +“It was simply that I feared something might happen to me unless I kept a +sharp look-out. I felt afraid. It was instinctive,” was all he could say. +“I got the impression that the whole town was after me—wanted me +for something; and that if it got me I should lose myself, or at least the Self +I knew, in some unfamiliar state of consciousness. But I am not a psychologist, +you know,” he added meekly, “and I cannot define it better than +that.” +</p> + +<p> +It was while lounging in the courtyard half an hour before the evening meal +that Vezin made this discovery, and he at once went upstairs to his quiet room +at the end of the winding passage to think it over alone. In the yard it was +empty enough, true, but there was always the possibility that the big woman +whom he dreaded would come out of some door, with her pretence of knitting, to +sit and watch him. This had happened several times, and he could not endure the +sight of her. He still remembered his original fancy, bizarre though it was, +that she would spring upon him the moment his back was turned and land with one +single crushing leap upon his neck. Of course it was nonsense, but then it +haunted him, and once an idea begins to do that it ceases to be nonsense. It +has clothed itself in reality. +</p> + +<p> +He went upstairs accordingly. It was dusk, and the oil lamps had not yet been +lit in the passages. He stumbled over the uneven surface of the ancient +flooring, passing the dim outlines of doors along the corridor—doors that +he had never once seen opened—rooms that seemed never occupied. He moved, +as his habit now was, stealthily and on tiptoe. +</p> + +<p> +Half-way down the last passage to his own chamber there was a sharp turn, and +it was just here, while groping round the walls with outstretched hands, that +his fingers touched something that was not wall—something that moved. It +was soft and warm in texture, indescribably fragrant, and about the height of +his shoulder; and he immediately thought of a furry, sweet-smelling kitten. The +next minute he knew it was something quite different. +</p> + +<p> +Instead of investigating, however,—his nerves must have been too +overwrought for that, he said,—he shrank back as closely as possible +against the wall on the other side. The thing, whatever it was, slipped past +him with a sound of rustling and, retreating with light footsteps down the +passage behind him, was gone. A breath of warm, scented air was wafted to his +nostrils. +</p> + +<p> +Vezin caught his breath for an instant and paused, stockstill, half leaning +against the wall—and then almost ran down the remaining distance and +entered his room with a rush, locking the door hurriedly behind him. Yet it was +not fear that made him run: it was excitement, pleasurable excitement. His +nerves were tingling, and a delicious glow made itself felt all over his body. +In a flash it came to him that this was just what he had felt twenty-five years +ago as a boy when he was in love for the first time. Warm currents of life ran +all over him and mounted to his brain in a whirl of soft delight. His mood was +suddenly become tender, melting, loving. +</p> + +<p> +The room was quite dark, and he collapsed upon the sofa by the window, +wondering what had happened to him and what it all meant. But the only thing he +understood clearly in that instant was that something in him had swiftly, +magically changed: he no longer wished to leave, or to argue with himself about +leaving. The encounter in the passage-way had changed all that. The strange +perfume of it still hung about him, bemusing his heart and mind. For he knew +that it was a girl who had passed him, a girl’s face that his fingers had +brushed in the darkness, and he felt in some extraordinary way as though he had +been actually kissed by her, kissed full upon the lips. +</p> + +<p> +Trembling, he sat upon the sofa by the window and struggled to collect his +thoughts. He was utterly unable to understand how the mere passing of a girl in +the darkness of a narrow passage-way could communicate so electric a thrill to +his whole being that he still shook with the sweetness of it. Yet, there it +was! And he found it as useless to deny as to attempt analysis. Some ancient +fire had entered his veins, and now ran coursing through his blood; and that he +was forty-five instead of twenty did not matter one little jot. Out of all the +inner turmoil and confusion emerged the one salient fact that the mere +atmosphere, the merest casual touch, of this girl, unseen, unknown in the +darkness, had been sufficient to stir dormant fires in the centre of his heart, +and rouse his whole being from a state of feeble sluggishness to one of tearing +and tumultuous excitement. +</p> + +<p> +After a time, however, the number of Vezin’s years began to assert their +cumulative power; he grew calmer, and when a knock came at length upon his door +and he heard the waiter’s voice suggesting that dinner was nearly over, +he pulled himself together and slowly made his way downstairs into the +dining-room. +</p> + +<p> +Every one looked up as he entered, for he was very late, but he took his +customary seat in the far corner and began to eat. The trepidation was still in +his nerves, but the fact that he had passed through the courtyard and hall +without catching sight of a petticoat served to calm him a little. He ate so +fast that he had almost caught up with the current stage of the table +d’hôte, when a slight commotion in the room drew his attention. +</p> + +<p> +His chair was so placed that the door and the greater portion of the long +<i>salle à manger</i> were behind him, yet it was not necessary to turn round +to know that the same person he had passed in the dark passage had now come +into the room. He felt the presence long before he heard or saw any one. Then +he became aware that the old men, the only other guests, were rising one by one +in their places, and exchanging greetings with some one who passed among them +from table to table. And when at length he turned with his heart beating +furiously to ascertain for himself, he saw the form of a young girl, lithe and +slim, moving down the centre of the room and making straight for his own table +in the corner. She moved wonderfully, with sinuous grace, like a young panther, +and her approach filled him with such delicious bewilderment that he was +utterly unable to tell at first what her face was like, or discover what it was +about the whole presentment of the creature that filled him anew with +trepidation and delight. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Ma’mselle est de retour!” he heard the old waiter murmur +at his side, and he was just able to take in that she was the daughter of the +proprietress, when she was upon him, and he heard her voice. She was addressing +him. Something of red lips he saw and laughing white teeth, and stray wisps of +fine dark hair about the temples; but all the rest was a dream in which his own +emotion rose like a thick cloud before his eyes and prevented his seeing +accurately, or knowing exactly what he did. He was aware that she greeted him +with a charming little bow; that her beautiful large eyes looked searchingly +into his own; that the perfume he had noticed in the dark passage again +assailed his nostrils, and that she was bending a little towards him and +leaning with one hand on the table at this side. She was quite close to +him—that was the chief thing he knew—explaining that she had been +asking after the comfort of her mother’s guests, and now was introducing +herself to the latest arrival—himself. +</p> + +<p> +“M’sieur has already been here a few days,” he heard the +waiter say; and then her own voice, sweet as singing, replied— +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but M’sieur is not going to leave us just yet, I hope. My +mother is too old to look after the comfort of our guests properly, but now I +am here I will remedy all that.” She laughed deliciously. +“M’sieur shall be well looked after.” +</p> + +<p> +Vezin, struggling with his emotion and desire to be polite, half rose to +acknowledge the pretty speech, and to stammer some sort of reply, but as he did +so his hand by chance touched her own that was resting upon the table, and a +shock that was for all the world like a shock of electricity, passed from her +skin into his body. His soul wavered and shook deep within him. He caught her +eyes fixed upon his own with a look of most curious intentness, and the next +moment he knew that he had sat down wordless again on his chair, that the girl +was already half-way across the room, and that he was trying to eat his salad +with a dessert-spoon and a knife. +</p> + +<p> +Longing for her return, and yet dreading it, he gulped down the remainder of +his dinner, and then went at once to his bedroom to be alone with his thoughts. +This time the passages were lighted, and he suffered no exciting contretemps; +yet the winding corridor was dim with shadows, and the last portion, from the +bend of the walls onwards, seemed longer than he had ever known it. It ran +downhill like the pathway on a mountain side, and as he tiptoed softly down it +he felt that by rights it ought to have led him clean out of the house into the +heart of a great forest. The world was singing with him. Strange fancies filled +his brain, and once in the room, with the door securely locked, he did not +light the candles, but sat by the open window thinking long, long thoughts that +came unbidden in troops to his mind. +</p> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p> +This part of the story he told to Dr. Silence, without special coaxing, it is +true, yet with much stammering embarrassment. He could not in the least +understand, he said, how the girl had managed to affect him so profoundly, and +even before he had set eyes upon her. For her mere proximity in the darkness +had been sufficient to set him on fire. He knew nothing of enchantments, and +for years had been a stranger to anything approaching tender relations with any +member of the opposite sex, for he was encased in shyness, and realised his +overwhelming defects only too well. Yet this bewitching young creature came to +him deliberately. Her manner was unmistakable, and she sought him out on every +possible occasion. Chaste and sweet she was undoubtedly, yet frankly inviting; +and she won him utterly with the first glance of her shining eyes, even if she +had not already done so in the dark merely by the magic of her invisible +presence. +</p> + +<p> +“You felt she was altogether wholesome and good!” queried the +doctor. “You had no reaction of any sort—for instance, of +alarm?” +</p> + +<p> +Vezin looked up sharply with one of his inimitable little apologetic smiles. It +was some time before he replied. The mere memory of the adventure had suffused +his shy face with blushes, and his brown eyes sought the floor again before he +answered. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I can quite say that,” he explained presently. +“I acknowledged certain qualms, sitting up in my room afterwards. A +conviction grew upon me that there was something about her—how shall I +express it?—well, something unholy. It is not impurity in any sense, +physical or mental, that I mean, but something quite indefinable that gave me a +vague sensation of the creeps. She drew me, and at the same time repelled me, +more than—than—” +</p> + +<p> +He hesitated, blushing furiously, and unable to finish the sentence. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing like it has ever come to me before or since,” he +concluded, with lame confusion. “I suppose it was, as you suggested just +now, something of an enchantment. At any rate, it was strong enough to make me +feel that I would stay in that awful little haunted town for years if only I +could see her every day, hear her voice, watch her wonderful movements, and +sometimes, perhaps, touch her hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you explain to me what you felt was the source of her power?” +John Silence asked, looking purposely anywhere but at the narrator. +</p> + +<p> +“I am surprised that you should ask me such a question,” answered +Vezin, with the nearest approach to dignity he could manage. “I think no +man can describe to another convincingly wherein lies the magic of the woman +who ensnares him. I certainly cannot. I can only say this slip of a girl +bewitched me, and the mere knowledge that she was living and sleeping in the +same house filled me with an extraordinary sense of delight. +</p> + +<p> +“But there’s one thing I can tell you,” he went on earnestly, +his eyes aglow, “namely, that she seemed to sum up and synthesise in +herself all the strange hidden forces that operated so mysteriously in the town +and its inhabitants. She had the silken movements of the panther, going +smoothly, silently to and fro, and the same indirect, oblique methods as the +townsfolk, screening, like them, secret purposes of her own—purposes that +I was sure had <i>me</i> for their objective. She kept me, to my terror and +delight, ceaselessly under observation, yet so carelessly, so consummately, +that another man less sensitive, if I may say so”—he made a +deprecating gesture—“or less prepared by what had gone before, +would never have noticed it at all. She was always still, always reposeful, yet +she seemed to be everywhere at once, so that I never could escape from her. I +was continually meeting the stare and laughter of her great eyes, in the +corners of the rooms, in the passages, calmly looking at me through the +windows, or in the busiest parts of the public streets.” +</p> + +<p> +Their intimacy, it seems, grew very rapidly after this first encounter which +had so violently disturbed the little man’s equilibrium. He was naturally +very prim, and prim folk live mostly in so small a world that anything +violently unusual may shake them clean out of it, and they therefore +instinctively distrust originality. But Vezin began to forget his primness +after awhile. The girl was always modestly behaved, and as her mother’s +representative she naturally had to do with the guests in the hotel. It was not +out of the way that a spirit of camaraderie should spring up. Besides, she was +young, she was charmingly pretty, she was French, and—she obviously liked +him. +</p> + +<p> +At the same time, there was something indescribable—a certain indefinable +atmosphere of other places, other times—that made him try hard to remain +on his guard, and sometimes made him catch his breath with a sudden start. It +was all rather like a delirious dream, half delight, half dread, he confided in +a whisper to Dr. Silence; and more than once he hardly knew quite what he was +doing or saying, as though he were driven forward by impulses he scarcely +recognised as his own. +</p> + +<p> +And though the thought of leaving presented itself again and again to his mind, +it was each time with less insistence, so that he stayed on from day to day, +becoming more and more a part of the sleepy life of this dreamy mediaeval town, +losing more and more of his recognisable personality. Soon, he felt, the +Curtain within would roll up with an awful rush, and he would find himself +suddenly admitted into the secret purposes of the hidden life that lay behind +it all. Only, by that time, he would have become transformed into an entirely +different being. +</p> + +<p> +And, meanwhile, he noticed various little signs of the intention to make his +stay attractive to him: flowers in his bedroom, a more comfortable arm-chair in +the corner, and even special little extra dishes on his private table in the +dining-room. Conversations, too, with “Mademoiselle Ilsé” became +more and more frequent and pleasant, and although they seldom travelled beyond +the weather, or the details of the town, the girl, he noticed, was never in a +hurry to bring them to an end, and often contrived to interject little odd +sentences that he never properly understood, yet felt to be significant. +</p> + +<p> +And it was these stray remarks, full of a meaning that evaded him, that pointed +to some hidden purpose of her own and made him feel uneasy. They all had to do, +he felt sure, with reasons for his staying on in the town indefinitely. +</p> + +<p> +“And has M’sieur not even yet come to a decision?” she said +softly in his ear, sitting beside him in the sunny yard before <i>déjeuner</i>, +the acquaintance having progressed with significant rapidity. “Because, +if it’s so difficult, we must all try together to help him!” +</p> + +<p> +The question startled him, following upon his own thoughts. It was spoken with +a pretty laugh, and a stray bit of hair across one eye, as she turned and +peered at him half roguishly. Possibly he did not quite understand the French +of it, for her near presence always confused his small knowledge of the +language distressingly. Yet the words, and her manner, and something else that +lay behind it all in her mind, frightened him. It gave such point to his +feeling that the town was waiting for him to make his mind up on some important +matter. +</p> + +<p> +At the same time, her voice, and the fact that she was there so close beside +him in her soft dark dress, thrilled him inexpressibly. +</p> + +<p> +“It is true I find it difficult to leave,” he stammered, losing his +way deliciously in the depths of her eyes, “and especially now that +Mademoiselle Ilsé has come.” +</p> + +<p> +He was surprised at the success of his sentence, and quite delighted with the +little gallantry of it. But at the same time he could have bitten his tongue +off for having said it. +</p> + +<p> +“Then after all you like our little town, or you would not be pleased to +stay on,” she said, ignoring the compliment. +</p> + +<p> +“I am enchanted with it, and enchanted with you,” he cried, feeling +that his tongue was somehow slipping beyond the control of his brain. And he +was on the verge of saying all manner of other things of the wildest +description, when the girl sprang lightly up from her chair beside him, and +made to go. +</p> + +<p> +“It is <i>soupe à l’onion</i> to-day!” she cried, laughing +back at him through the sunlight, “and I must go and see about it. +Otherwise, you know, M’sieur will not enjoy his dinner, and then, +perhaps, he will leave us!” +</p> + +<p> +He watched her cross the courtyard, moving with all the grace and lightness of +the feline race, and her simple black dress clothed her, he thought, exactly +like the fur of the same supple species. She turned once to laugh at him from +the porch with the glass door, and then stopped a moment to speak to her +mother, who sat knitting as usual in her corner seat just inside the hall-way. +</p> + +<p> +But how was it, then, that the moment his eye fell upon this ungainly woman, +the pair of them appeared suddenly as other than they were? Whence came that +transforming dignity and sense of power that enveloped them both as by magic? +What was it about that massive woman that made her appear instantly regal, and +set her on a throne in some dark and dreadful scenery, wielding a sceptre over +the red glare of some tempestuous orgy? And why did this slender stripling of a +girl, graceful as a willow, lithe as a young leopard, assume suddenly an air of +sinister majesty, and move with flame and smoke about her head, and the +darkness of night beneath her feet? +</p> + +<p> +Vezin caught his breath and sat there transfixed. Then, almost simultaneously +with its appearance, the queer notion vanished again, and the sunlight of day +caught them both, and he heard her laughing to her mother about the <i>soupe à +l’onion</i>, and saw her glancing back at him over her dear little +shoulder with a smile that made him think of a dew-kissed rose bending lightly +before summer airs. +</p> + +<p> +And, indeed, the onion soup was particularly excellent that day, because he saw +another cover laid at his small table, and, with fluttering heart, heard the +waiter murmur by way of explanation that “Ma’mselle Ilsé would +honour M’sieur to-day at <i>déjeuner</i>, as her custom sometimes is with +her mother’s guests.” +</p> + +<p> +So actually she sat by him all through that delirious meal, talking quietly to +him in easy French, seeing that he was well looked after, mixing the +salad-dressing, and even helping him with her own hand. And, later in the +afternoon, while he was smoking in the courtyard, longing for a sight of her as +soon as her duties were done, she came again to his side, and when he rose to +meet her, she stood facing him a moment, full of a perplexing sweet shyness +before she spoke— +</p> + +<p> +“My mother thinks you ought to know more of the beauties of our little +town, and <i>I</i> think so too! Would M’sieur like me to be his guide, +perhaps? I can show him everything, for our family has lived here for many +generations.” +</p> + +<p> +She had him by the hand, indeed, before he could find a single word to express +his pleasure, and led him, all unresisting, out into the street, yet in such a +way that it seemed perfectly natural she should do so, and without the faintest +suggestion of boldness or immodesty. Her face glowed with the pleasure and +interest of it, and with her short dress and tumbled hair she looked every bit +the charming child of seventeen that she was, innocent and playful, proud of +her native town, and alive beyond her years to the sense of its ancient beauty. +</p> + +<p> +So they went over the town together, and she showed him what she considered its +chief interest: the tumble-down old house where her forebears had lived; the +sombre, aristocratic-looking mansion where her mother’s family dwelt for +centuries, and the ancient market-place where several hundred years before the +witches had been burnt by the score. She kept up a lively running stream of +talk about it all, of which he understood not a fiftieth part as he trudged +along by her side, cursing his forty-five years and feeling all the yearnings +of his early manhood revive and jeer at him. And, as she talked, England and +Surbiton seemed very far away indeed, almost in another age of the +world’s history. Her voice touched something immeasurably old in him, +something that slept deep. It lulled the surface parts of his consciousness to +sleep, allowing what was far more ancient to awaken. Like the town, with its +elaborate pretence of modern active life, the upper layers of his being became +dulled, soothed, muffled, and what lay underneath began to stir in its sleep. +That big Curtain swayed a little to and fro. Presently it might lift +altogether.... +</p> + +<p> +He began to understand a little better at last. The mood of the town was +reproducing itself in him. In proportion as his ordinary external self became +muffled, that inner secret life, that was far more real and vital, asserted +itself. And this girl was surely the high-priestess of it all, the chief +instrument of its accomplishment. New thoughts, with new interpretations, +flooded his mind as she walked beside him through the winding streets, while +the picturesque old gabled town, softly coloured in the sunset, had never +appeared to him so wholly wonderful and seductive. +</p> + +<p> +And only one curious incident came to disturb and puzzle him, slight in itself, +but utterly inexplicable, bringing white terror into the child’s face and +a scream to her laughing lips. He had merely pointed to a column of blue smoke +that rose from the burning autumn leaves and made a picture against the red +roofs, and had then run to the wall and called her to his side to watch the +flames shooting here and there through the heap of rubbish. Yet, at the sight +of it, as though taken by surprise, her face had altered dreadfully, and she +had turned and run like the wind, calling out wild sentences to him as she ran, +of which he had not understood a single word, except that the fire apparently +frightened her, and she wanted to get quickly away from it, and to get him away +too. +</p> + +<p> +Yet five minutes later she was as calm and happy again as though nothing had +happened to alarm or waken troubled thoughts in her, and they had both +forgotten the incident. +</p> + +<p> +They were leaning over the ruined ramparts together listening to the weird +music of the band as he had heard it the first day of his arrival. It moved him +again profoundly as it had done before, and somehow he managed to find his +tongue and his best French. The girl leaned across the stones close beside him. +No one was about. Driven by some remorseless engine within he began to stammer +something—he hardly knew what—of his strange admiration for her. +Almost at the first word she sprang lightly off the wall and came up smiling in +front of him, just touching his knees as he sat there. She was hatless as +usual, and the sun caught her hair and one side of her cheek and throat. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m so glad!” she cried, clapping her little hands +softly in his face, “so very glad, because that means that if you like me +you must also like what I do, and what I belong to.” +</p> + +<p> +Already he regretted bitterly having lost control of himself. Something in the +phrasing of her sentence chilled him. He knew the fear of embarking upon an +unknown and dangerous sea. +</p> + +<p> +“You will take part in our real life, I mean,” she added softly, +with an indescribable coaxing of manner, as though she noticed his shrinking. +“You will come back to us.” +</p> + +<p> +Already this slip of a child seemed to dominate him; he felt her power coming +over him more and more; something emanated from her that stole over his senses +and made him aware that her personality, for all its simple grace, held forces +that were stately, imposing, august. He saw her again moving through smoke and +flame amid broken and tempestuous scenery, alarmingly strong, her terrible +mother by her side. Dimly this shone through her smile and appearance of +charming innocence. +</p> + +<p> +“You will, I know,” she repeated, holding him with her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +They were quite alone up there on the ramparts, and the sensation that she was +overmastering him stirred a wild sensuousness in his blood. The mingled abandon +and reserve in her attracted him furiously, and all of him that was man rose up +and resisted the creeping influence, at the same time acclaiming it with the +full delight of his forgotten youth. An irresistible desire came to him to +question her, to summon what still remained to him of his own little +personality in an effort to retain the right to his normal self. +</p> + +<p> +The girl had grown quiet again, and was now leaning on the broad wall close +beside him, gazing out across the darkening plain, her elbows on the coping, +motionless as a figure carved in stone. He took his courage in both hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me, Ilsé,” he said, unconsciously imitating her own purring +softness of voice, yet aware that he was utterly in earnest, “what is the +meaning of this town, and what is this real life you speak of? And why is it +that the people watch me from morning to night? Tell me what it all means? And, +tell me,” he added more quickly with passion in his voice, “what +you really are—yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +She turned her head and looked at him through half-closed eyelids, her growing +inner excitement betraying itself by the faint colour that ran like a shadow +across her face. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me,”—he faltered oddly under her +gaze—“that I have some right to know—” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she opened her eyes to the full. “You love me, then?” she +asked softly. +</p> + +<p> +“I swear,” he cried impetuously, moved as by the force of a rising +tide, “I never felt before—I have never known any other girl +who—” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you <i>have</i> the right to know,” she calmly interrupted +his confused confession, “for love shares all secrets.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused, and a thrill like fire ran swiftly through him. Her words lifted +him off the earth, and he felt a radiant happiness, followed almost the same +instant in horrible contrast by the thought of death. He became aware that she +had turned her eyes upon his own and was speaking again. +</p> + +<p> +“The real life I speak of,” she whispered, “is the old, old +life within, the life of long ago, the life to which you, too, once belonged, +and to which you still belong.” +</p> + +<p> +A faint wave of memory troubled the deeps of his soul as her low voice sank +into him. What she was saying he knew instinctively to be true, even though he +could not as yet understand its full purport. His present life seemed slipping +from him as he listened, merging his personality in one that was far older and +greater. It was this loss of his present self that brought to him the thought +of death. +</p> + +<p> +“You came here,” she went on, “with the purpose of seeking +it, and the people felt your presence and are waiting to know what you decide, +whether you will leave them without having found it, or whether—” +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes remained fixed upon his own, but her face began to change, growing +larger and darker with an expression of age. +</p> + +<p> +“It is their thoughts constantly playing about your soul that makes you +feel they watch you. They do not watch you with their eyes. The purposes of +their inner life are calling to you, seeking to claim you. You were all part of +the same life long, long ago, and now they want you back again among +them.” +</p> + +<p> +Vezin’s timid heart sank with dread as he listened; but the girl’s +eyes held him with a net of joy so that he had no wish to escape. She +fascinated him, as it were, clean out of his normal self. +</p> + +<p> +“Alone, however, the people could never have caught and held you,” +she resumed. “The motive force was not strong enough; it has faded +through all these years. But I”—she paused a moment and looked at +him with complete confidence in her splendid eyes—“I possess the +spell to conquer you and hold you: the spell of old love. I can win you back +again and make you live the old life with me, for the force of the ancient tie +between us, if I choose to use it, is irresistible. And I do choose to use it. +I still want you. And you, dear soul of my dim past”—she pressed +closer to him so that her breath passed across his eyes, and her voice +positively sang—“I mean to have you, for you love me and are +utterly at my mercy.” +</p> + +<p> +Vezin heard, and yet did not hear; understood, yet did not understand. He had +passed into a condition of exaltation. The world was beneath his feet, made of +music and flowers, and he was flying somewhere far above it through the +sunshine of pure delight. He was breathless and giddy with the wonder of her +words. They intoxicated him. And, still, the terror of it all, the dreadful +thought of death, pressed ever behind her sentences. For flames shot through +her voice out of black smoke and licked at his soul. +</p> + +<p> +And they communicated with one another, it seemed to him, by a process of swift +telepathy, for his French could never have compassed all he said to her. Yet +she understood perfectly, and what she said to him was like the recital of +verses long since known. And the mingled pain and sweetness of it as he +listened were almost more than his little soul could hold. +</p> + +<p> +“Yet I came here wholly by chance—” he heard himself saying. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she cried with passion, “you came here because I called +to you. I have called to you for years, and you came with the whole force of +the past behind you. You had to come, for I own you, and I claim you.” +</p> + +<p> +She rose again and moved closer, looking at him with a certain insolence in the +face—the insolence of power. +</p> + +<p> +The sun had set behind the towers of the old cathedral and the darkness rose up +from the plain and enveloped them. The music of the band had ceased. The leaves +of the plane trees hung motionless, but the chill of the autumn evening rose +about them and made Vezin shiver. There was no sound but the sound of their +voices and the occasional soft rustle of the girl’s dress. He could hear +the blood rushing in his ears. He scarcely realised where he was or what he was +doing. Some terrible magic of the imagination drew him deeply down into the +tombs of his own being, telling him in no unfaltering voice that her words +shadowed forth the truth. And this simple little French maid, speaking beside +him with so strange authority, he saw curiously alter into quite another being. +As he stared into her eyes, the picture in his mind grew and lived, dressing +itself vividly to his inner vision with a degree of reality he was compelled to +acknowledge. As once before, he saw her tall and stately, moving through wild +and broken scenery of forests and mountain caverns, the glare of flames behind +her head and clouds of shifting smoke about her feet. Dark leaves encircled her +hair, flying loosely in the wind, and her limbs shone through the merest rags +of clothing. Others were about her, too, and ardent eyes on all sides cast +delirious glances upon her, but her own eyes were always for One only, one whom +she held by the hand. For she was leading the dance in some tempestuous orgy to +the music of chanting voices, and the dance she led circled about a great and +awful Figure on a throne, brooding over the scene through lurid vapours, while +innumerable other wild faces and forms crowded furiously about her in the +dance. But the one she held by the hand he knew to be himself, and the +monstrous shape upon the throne he knew to be her mother. +</p> + +<p> +The vision rose within him, rushing to him down the long years of buried time, +crying aloud to him with the voice of memory reawakened.... And then the scene +faded away and he saw the clear circle of the girl’s eyes gazing +steadfastly into his own, and she became once more the pretty little daughter +of the innkeeper, and he found his voice again. +</p> + +<p> +“And you,” he whispered tremblingly—“you child of +visions and enchantment, how is it that you so bewitch me that I loved you even +before I saw?” +</p> + +<p> +She drew herself up beside him with an air of rare dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“The call of the Past,” she said; “and besides,” she +added proudly, “in the real life I am a princess—” +</p> + +<p> +“A princess!” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +“—and my mother is a queen!” +</p> + +<p> +At this, little Vezin utterly lost his head. Delight tore at his heart and +swept him into sheer ecstasy. To hear that sweet singing voice, and to see +those adorable little lips utter such things, upset his balance beyond all hope +of control. He took her in his arms and covered her unresisting face with +kisses. +</p> + +<p> +But even while he did so, and while the hot passion swept him, he felt that she +was soft and loathsome, and that her answering kisses stained his very soul.... +And when, presently, she had freed herself and vanished into the darkness, he +stood there, leaning against the wall in a state of collapse, creeping with +horror from the touch of her yielding body, and inwardly raging at the weakness +that he already dimly realised must prove his undoing. +</p> + +<p> +And from the shadows of the old buildings into which she disappeared there rose +in the stillness of the night a singular, long-drawn cry, which at first he +took for laughter, but which later he was sure he recognised as the almost +human wailing of a cat. +</p> + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p> +For a long time Vezin leant there against the wall, alone with his surging +thoughts and emotions. He understood at length that he had done the one thing +necessary to call down upon him the whole force of this ancient Past. For in +those passionate kisses he had acknowledged the tie of olden days, and had +revived it. And the memory of that soft impalpable caress in the darkness of +the inn corridor came back to him with a shudder. The girl had first mastered +him, and then led him to the one act that was necessary for her purpose. He had +been waylaid, after the lapse of centuries—caught, and conquered. +</p> + +<p> +Dimly he realised this, and sought to make plans for his escape. But, for the +moment at any rate, he was powerless to manage his thoughts or will, for the +sweet, fantastic madness of the whole adventure mounted to his brain like a +spell, and he gloried in the feeling that he was utterly enchanted and moving +in a world so much larger and wilder than the one he had ever been accustomed +to. +</p> + +<p> +The moon, pale and enormous, was just rising over the sea-like plain, when at +last he rose to go. Her slanting rays drew all the houses into new perspective, +so that their roofs, already glistening with dew, seemed to stretch much higher +into the sky than usual, and their gables and quaint old towers lay far away in +its purple reaches. +</p> + +<p> +The cathedral appeared unreal in a silver mist. He moved softly, keeping to the +shadows; but the streets were all deserted and very silent; the doors were +closed, the shutters fastened. Not a soul was astir. The hush of night lay over +everything; it was like a town of the dead, a churchyard with gigantic and +grotesque tombstones. +</p> + +<p> +Wondering where all the busy life of the day had so utterly disappeared to, he +made his way to a back door that entered the inn by means of the stables, +thinking thus to reach his room unobserved. He reached the courtyard safely and +crossed it by keeping close to the shadow of the wall. He sidled down it, +mincing along on tiptoe, just as the old men did when they entered the <i>salle +à manger</i>. He was horrified to find himself doing this instinctively. A +strange impulse came to him, catching him somehow in the centre of his +body—an impulse to drop upon all fours and run swiftly and silently. He +glanced upwards and the idea came to him to leap up upon his window-sill +overhead instead of going round by the stairs. This occurred to him as the +easiest, and most natural way. It was like the beginning of some horrible +transformation of himself into something else. He was fearfully strung up. +</p> + +<p> +The moon was higher now, and the shadows very dark along the side of the street +where he moved. He kept among the deepest of them, and reached the porch with +the glass doors. +</p> + +<p> +But here there was light; the inmates, unfortunately, were still about. Hoping +to slip across the hall unobserved and reach the stairs, he opened the door +carefully and stole in. Then he saw that the hall was not empty. A large dark +thing lay against the wall on his left. At first he thought it must be +household articles. Then it moved, and he thought it was an immense cat, +distorted in some way by the play of light and shadow. Then it rose straight up +before him and he saw that it was the proprietress. +</p> + +<p> +What she had been doing in this position he could only venture a dreadful +guess, but the moment she stood up and faced him he was aware of some terrible +dignity clothing her about that instantly recalled the girl’s strange +saying that she was a queen. Huge and sinister she stood there under the little +oil lamp; alone with him in the empty hall. Awe stirred in his heart, and the +roots of some ancient fear. He felt that he must bow to her and make some kind +of obeisance. The impulse was fierce and irresistible, as of long habit. He +glanced quickly about him. There was no one there. Then he deliberately +inclined his head toward her. He bowed. +</p> + +<p> +“Enfin! M’sieur s’est donc décidé. C’est bien alors. +J’en suis contente.” +</p> + +<p> +Her words came to him sonorously as through a great open space. +</p> + +<p> +Then the great figure came suddenly across the flagged hall at him and seized +his trembling hands. Some overpowering force moved with her and caught him. +</p> + +<p> +“On pourrait faire un p’tit tour ensemble, n’est-ce pas? Nous +y allons cette nuit et il faut s’exercer un peu d’avance pour cela. +Ilsé, Ilsé, viens donc ici. Viens vite!” +</p> + +<p> +And she whirled him round in the opening steps of some dance that seemed oddly +and horribly familiar. They made no sound on the stones, this strangely +assorted couple. It was all soft and stealthy. And presently, when the air +seemed to thicken like smoke, and a red glare as of flame shot through it, he +was aware that some one else had joined them and that his hand the mother had +released was now tightly held by the daughter. Ilsé had come in answer to the +call, and he saw her with leaves of vervain twined in her dark hair, clothed in +tattered vestiges of some curious garment, beautiful as the night, and +horribly, odiously, loathsomely seductive. +</p> + +<p> +“To the Sabbath! to the Sabbath!” they cried. “On to the +Witches’ Sabbath!” +</p> + +<p> +Up and down that narrow hall they danced, the women on each side of him, to the +wildest measure he had ever imagined, yet which he dimly, dreadfully +remembered, till the lamp on the wall flickered and went out, and they were +left in total darkness. And the devil woke in his heart with a thousand vile +suggestions and made him afraid. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly they released his hands and he heard the voice of the mother cry that +it was time, and they must go. Which way they went he did not pause to see. He +only realised that he was free, and he blundered through the darkness till he +found the stairs and then tore up them to his room as though all hell was at +his heels. +</p> + +<p> +He flung himself on the sofa, with his face in his hands, and groaned. Swiftly +reviewing a dozen ways of immediate escape, all equally impossible, he finally +decided that the only thing to do for the moment was to sit quiet and wait. He +must see what was going to happen. At least in the privacy of his own bedroom +he would be fairly safe. The door was locked. He crossed over and softly opened +the window which gave upon the courtyard and also permitted a partial view of +the hall through the glass doors. +</p> + +<p> +As he did so the hum and murmur of a great activity reached his ears from the +streets beyond—the sound of footsteps and voices muffled by distance. He +leaned out cautiously and listened. The moonlight was clear and strong now, but +his own window was in shadow, the silver disc being still behind the house. It +came to him irresistibly that the inhabitants of the town, who a little while +before had all been invisible behind closed doors, were now issuing forth, busy +upon some secret and unholy errand. He listened intently. +</p> + +<p> +At first everything about him was silent, but soon he became aware of movements +going on in the house itself. Rustlings and cheepings came to him across that +still, moonlit yard. A concourse of living beings sent the hum of their +activity into the night. Things were on the move everywhere. A biting, pungent +odour rose through the air, coming he knew not whence. Presently his eyes +became glued to the windows of the opposite wall where the moonshine fell in a +soft blaze. The roof overhead, and behind him, was reflected clearly in the +panes of glass, and he saw the outlines of dark bodies moving with long +footsteps over the tiles and along the coping. They passed swiftly and +silently, shaped like immense cats, in an endless procession across the +pictured glass, and then appeared to leap down to a lower level where he lost +sight of them. He just caught the soft thudding of their leaps. Sometimes their +shadows fell upon the white wall opposite, and then he could not make out +whether they were the shadows of human beings or of cats. They seemed to change +swiftly from one to the other. The transformation looked horribly real, for +they leaped like human beings, yet changed swiftly in the air immediately +afterwards, and dropped like animals. +</p> + +<p> +The yard, too, beneath him, was now alive with the creeping movements of dark +forms all stealthily drawing towards the porch with the glass doors. They kept +so closely to the wall that he could not determine their actual shape, but when +he saw that they passed on to the great congregation that was gathering in the +hall, he understood that these were the creatures whose leaping shadows he had +first seen reflected in the windowpanes opposite. They were coming from all +parts of the town, reaching the appointed meeting-place across the roofs and +tiles, and springing from level to level till they came to the yard. +</p> + +<p> +Then a new sound caught his ear, and he saw that the windows all about him were +being softly opened, and that to each window came a face. A moment later +figures began dropping hurriedly down into the yard. And these figures, as they +lowered themselves down from the windows, were human, he saw; but once safely +in the yard they fell upon all fours and changed in the swiftest possible +second into—cats—huge, silent cats. They ran in streams to join the +main body in the hall beyond. +</p> + +<p> +So, after all, the rooms in the house had not been empty and unoccupied. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, what he saw no longer filled him with amazement. For he remembered it +all. It was familiar. It had all happened before just so, hundreds of times, +and he himself had taken part in it and known the wild madness of it all. The +outline of the old building changed, the yard grew larger, and he seemed to be +staring down upon it from a much greater height through smoky vapours. And, as +he looked, half remembering, the old pains of long ago, fierce and sweet, +furiously assailed him, and the blood stirred horribly as he heard the Call of +the Dance again in his heart and tasted the ancient magic of Ilsé whirling by +his side. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he started back. A great lithe cat had leaped softly up from the +shadows below on to the sill close to his face, and was staring fixedly at him +with the eyes of a human. “Come,” it seemed to say, “come +with us to the Dance! Change as of old! Transform yourself swiftly and +come!” Only too well he understood the creature’s soundless call. +</p> + +<p> +It was gone again in a flash with scarcely a sound of its padded feet on the +stones, and then others dropped by the score down the side of the house, past +his very eyes, all changing as they fell and darting away rapidly, softly, +towards the gathering point. And again he felt the dreadful desire to do +likewise; to murmur the old incantation, and then drop upon hands and knees and +run swiftly for the great flying leap into the air. Oh, how the passion of it +rose within him like a flood, twisting his very entrails, sending his +heart’s desire flaming forth into the night for the old, old Dance of the +Sorcerers at the Witches’ Sabbath! The whirl of the stars was about him; +once more he met the magic of the moon. The power of the wind, rushing from +precipice and forest, leaping from cliff to cliff across the valleys, tore him +away.... He heard the cries of the dancers and their wild laughter, and with +this savage girl in his embrace he danced furiously about the dim Throne where +sat the Figure with the sceptre of majesty.... +</p> + +<p> +Then, suddenly, all became hushed and still, and the fever died down a little +in his heart. The calm moonlight flooded a courtyard empty and deserted. They +had started. The procession was off into the sky. And he was left +behind—alone. +</p> + +<p> +Vezin tiptoed softly across the room and unlocked the door. The murmur from the +streets, growing momentarily as he advanced, met his ears. He made his way with +the utmost caution down the corridor. At the head of the stairs he paused and +listened. Below him, the hall where they had gathered was dark and still, but +through opened doors and windows on the far side of the building came the sound +of a great throng moving farther and farther into the distance. +</p> + +<p> +He made his way down the creaking wooden stairs, dreading yet longing to meet +some straggler who should point the way, but finding no one; across the dark +hall, so lately thronged with living, moving things, and out through the opened +front doors into the street. He could not believe that he was really left +behind, really forgotten, that he had been purposely permitted to escape. It +perplexed him. +</p> + +<p> +Nervously he peered about him, and up and down the street; then, seeing +nothing, advanced slowly down the pavement. +</p> + +<p> +The whole town, as he went, showed itself empty and deserted, as though a great +wind had blown everything alive out of it. The doors and windows of the houses +stood open to the night; nothing stirred; moonlight and silence lay over all. +The night lay about him like a cloak. The air, soft and cool, caressed his +cheek like the touch of a great furry paw. He gained confidence and began to +walk quickly, though still keeping to the shadowed side. Nowhere could he +discover the faintest sign of the great unholy exodus he knew had just taken +place. The moon sailed high over all in a sky cloudless and serene. +</p> + +<p> +Hardly realising where he was going, he crossed the open market-place and so +came to the ramparts, whence he knew a pathway descended to the high road and +along which he could make good his escape to one of the other little towns that +lay to the northward, and so to the railway. +</p> + +<p> +But first he paused and gazed out over the scene at his feet where the great +plain lay like a silver map of some dream country. The still beauty of it +entered his heart, increasing his sense of bewilderment and unreality. No air +stirred, the leaves of the plane trees stood motionless, the near details were +defined with the sharpness of day against dark shadows, and in the distance the +fields and woods melted away into haze and shimmering mistiness. +</p> + +<p> +But the breath caught in his throat and he stood stockstill as though +transfixed when his gaze passed from the horizon and fell upon the near +prospect in the depth of the valley at his feet. The whole lower slopes of the +hill, that lay hid from the brightness of the moon, were aglow, and through the +glare he saw countless moving forms, shifting thick and fast between the +openings of the trees; while overhead, like leaves driven by the wind, he +discerned flying shapes that hovered darkly one moment against the sky and then +settled down with cries and weird singing through the branches into the region +that was aflame. +</p> + +<p> +Spellbound, he stood and stared for a time that he could not measure. And then, +moved by one of the terrible impulses that seemed to control the whole +adventure, he climbed swiftly upon the top of the broad coping, and balanced a +moment where the valley gaped at his feet. But in that very instant, as he +stood hovering, a sudden movement among the shadows of the houses caught his +eye, and he turned to see the outline of a large animal dart swiftly across the +open space behind him, and land with a flying leap upon the top of the wall a +little lower down. It ran like the wind to his feet and then rose up beside him +upon the ramparts. A shiver seemed to run through the moonlight, and his sight +trembled for a second. His heart pulsed fearfully. Ilsé stood beside him, +peering into his face. +</p> + +<p> +Some dark substance, he saw, stained the girl’s face and skin, shining in +the moonlight as she stretched her hands towards him; she was dressed in +wretched tattered garments that yet became her mightily; rue and vervain twined +about her temples; her eyes glittered with unholy light. He only just +controlled the wild impulse to take her in his arms and leap with her from +their giddy perch into the valley below. +</p> + +<p> +“See!” she cried, pointing with an arm on which the rags fluttered +in the rising wind towards the forest aglow in the distance. “See where +they await us! The woods are alive! Already the Great Ones are there, and the +dance will soon begin! The salve is here! Anoint yourself and come!” +</p> + +<p> +Though a moment before the sky was clear and cloudless, yet even while she +spoke the face of the moon grew dark and the wind began to toss in the crests +of the plane trees at his feet. Stray gusts brought the sounds of hoarse +singing and crying from the lower slopes of the hill, and the pungent odour he +had already noticed about the courtyard of the inn rose about him in the air. +</p> + +<p> +“Transform, transform!” she cried again, her voice rising like a +song. “Rub well your skin before you fly. Come! Come with me to the +Sabbath, to the madness of its furious delight, to the sweet abandonment of its +evil worship! See! the Great Ones are there, and the terrible Sacraments +prepared. The Throne is occupied. Anoint and come! Anoint and come!” +</p> + +<p> +She grew to the height of a tree beside him, leaping upon the wall with flaming +eyes and hair strewn upon the night. He too began to change swiftly. Her hands +touched the skin of his face and neck, streaking him with the burning salve +that sent the old magic into his blood with the power before which fades all +that is good. +</p> + +<p> +A wild roar came up to his ears from the heart of the wood, and the girl, when +she heard it, leaped upon the wall in the frenzy of her wicked joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Satan is there!” she screamed, rushing upon him and striving to +draw him with her to the edge of the wall. “Satan has come. The +Sacraments call us! Come, with your dear apostate soul, and we will worship and +dance till the moon dies and the world is forgotten!” +</p> + +<p> +Just saving himself from the dreadful plunge, Vezin struggled to release +himself from her grasp, while the passion tore at his reins and all but +mastered him. He shrieked aloud, not knowing what he said, and then he shrieked +again. It was the old impulses, the old awful habits instinctively finding +voice; for though it seemed to him that he merely shrieked nonsense, the words +he uttered really had meaning in them, and were intelligible. It was the +ancient call. And it was heard below. It was answered. +</p> + +<p> +The wind whistled at the skirts of his coat as the air round him darkened with +many flying forms crowding upwards out of the valley. The crying of hoarse +voices smote upon his ears, coming closer. Strokes of wind buffeted him, +tearing him this way and that along the crumbling top of the stone wall; and +Ilsé clung to him with her long shining arms, smooth and bare, holding him fast +about the neck. But not Ilsé alone, for a dozen of them surrounded him, +dropping out of the air. The pungent odour of the anointed bodies stifled him, +exciting him to the old madness of the Sabbath, the dance of the witches and +sorcerers doing honour to the personified Evil of the world. +</p> + +<p> +“Anoint and away! Anoint and away!” they cried in wild chorus about +him. “To the Dance that never dies! To the sweet and fearful fantasy of +evil!” +</p> + +<p> +Another moment and he would have yielded and gone, for his will turned soft and +the flood of passionate memory all but overwhelmed him, when—so can a +small thing alter the whole course of an adventure—he caught his foot +upon a loose stone in the edge of the wall, and then fell with a sudden crash +on to the ground below. But he fell towards the houses, in the open space of +dust and cobblestones, and fortunately not into the gaping depth of the valley +on the farther side. +</p> + +<p> +And they, too, came in a tumbling heap about him, like flies upon a piece of +food, but as they fell he was released for a moment from the power of their +touch, and in that brief instant of freedom there flashed into his mind the +sudden intuition that saved him. Before he could regain his feet he saw them +scrabbling awkwardly back upon the wall, as though bat-like they could only fly +by dropping from a height, and had no hold upon him in the open. Then, seeing +them perched there in a row like cats upon a roof, all dark and singularly +shapeless, their eyes like lamps, the sudden memory came back to him of +Ilsé’s terror at the sight of fire. +</p> + +<p> +Quick as a flash he found his matches and lit the dead leaves that lay under +the wall. +</p> + +<p> +Dry and withered, they caught fire at once, and the wind carried the flame in a +long line down the length of the wall, licking upwards as it ran; and with +shrieks and wailings, the crowded row of forms upon the top melted away into +the air on the other side, and were gone with a great rush and whirring of +their bodies down into the heart of the haunted valley, leaving Vezin +breathless and shaken in the middle of the deserted ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Ilsé!” he called feebly; “Ilsé!” for his heart ached +to think that she was really gone to the great Dance without him, and that he +had lost the opportunity of its fearful joy. Yet at the same time his relief +was so great, and he was so dazed and troubled in mind with the whole thing, +that he hardly knew what he was saying, and only cried aloud in the fierce +storm of his emotion.... +</p> + +<p> +The fire under the wall ran its course, and the moonlight came out again, soft +and clear, from its temporary eclipse. With one last shuddering look at the +ruined ramparts, and a feeling of horrid wonder for the haunted valley beyond, +where the shapes still crowded and flew, he turned his face towards the town +and slowly made his way in the direction of the hotel. +</p> + +<p> +And as he went, a great wailing of cries, and a sound of howling, followed him +from the gleaming forest below, growing fainter and fainter with the bursts of +wind as he disappeared between the houses. +</p> + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p> +“It may seem rather abrupt to you, this sudden tame ending,” said +Arthur Vezin, glancing with flushed face and timid eyes at Dr. Silence sitting +there with his notebook, “but the fact is—er—from that moment +my memory seems to have failed rather. I have no distinct recollection of how I +got home or what precisely I did. +</p> + +<p> +“It appears I never went back to the inn at all. I only dimly recollect +racing down a long white road in the moonlight, past woods and villages, still +and deserted, and then the dawn came up, and I saw the towers of a biggish town +and so came to a station. +</p> + +<p> +“But, long before that, I remember pausing somewhere on the road and +looking back to where the hill-town of my adventure stood up in the moonlight, +and thinking how exactly like a great monstrous cat it lay there upon the +plain, its huge front paws lying down the two main streets, and the twin and +broken towers of the cathedral marking its torn ears against the sky. That +picture stays in my mind with the utmost vividness to this day. +</p> + +<p> +“Another thing remains in my mind from that escape—namely, the +sudden sharp reminder that I had not paid my bill, and the decision I made, +standing there on the dusty highroad, that the small baggage I had left behind +would more than settle for my indebtedness. +</p> + +<p> +“For the rest, I can only tell you that I got coffee and bread at a café +on the outskirts of this town I had come to, and soon after found my way to the +station and caught a train later in the day. That same evening I reached +London.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how long altogether,” asked John Silence quietly, “do +you think you stayed in the town of the adventure?” +</p> + +<p> +Vezin looked up sheepishly. +</p> + +<p> +“I was coming to that,” he resumed, with apologetic wrigglings of +his body. “In London I found that I was a whole week out in my reckoning +of time. I had stayed over a week in the town, and it ought to have been +September 15th,—instead of which it was only September 10th!” +</p> + +<p> +“So that, in reality, you had only stayed a night or two in the +inn?” queried the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +Vezin hesitated before replying. He shuffled upon the mat. +</p> + +<p> +“I must have gained time somewhere,” he said at +length—“somewhere or somehow. I certainly had a week to my credit. +I can’t explain it. I can only give you the fact.” +</p> + +<p> +“And this happened to you last year, since when you have never been back +to the place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Last autumn, yes,” murmured Vezin; “and I have never dared +to go back. I think I never want to.” +</p> + +<p> +“And, tell me,” asked Dr. Silence at length, when he saw that the +little man had evidently come to the end of his words and had nothing more to +say, “had you ever read up the subject of the old witchcraft practices +during the Middle Ages, or been at all interested in the subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” declared Vezin emphatically. “I had never given a +thought to such matters so far as I know—” +</p> + +<p> +“Or to the question of reincarnation, perhaps?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never—before my adventure; but I have since,” he replied +significantly. +</p> + +<p> +There was, however, something still on the man’s mind that he wished to +relieve himself of by confession, yet could only with difficulty bring himself +to mention; and it was only after the sympathetic tactfulness of the doctor had +provided numerous openings that he at length availed himself of one of them, +and stammered that he would like to show him the marks he still had on his neck +where, he said, the girl had touched him with her anointed hands. +</p> + +<p> +He took off his collar after infinite fumbling hesitation, and lowered his +shirt a little for the doctor to see. And there, on the surface of the skin, +lay a faint reddish line across the shoulder and extending a little way down +the back towards the spine. It certainly indicated exactly the position an arm +might have taken in the act of embracing. And on the other side of the neck, +slightly higher up, was a similar mark, though not quite so clearly defined. +</p> + +<p> +“That was where she held me that night on the ramparts,” he +whispered, a strange light coming and going in his eyes. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +It was some weeks later when I again found occasion to consult John Silence +concerning another extraordinary case that had come under my notice, and we +fell to discussing Vezin’s story. Since hearing it, the doctor had made +investigations on his own account, and one of his secretaries had discovered +that Vezin’s ancestors had actually lived for generations in the very +town where the adventure came to him. Two of them, both women, had been tried +and convicted as witches, and had been burned alive at the stake. Moreover, it +had not been difficult to prove that the very inn where Vezin stayed was built +about 1700 upon the spot where the funeral pyres stood and the executions took +place. The town was a sort of headquarters for all the sorcerers and witches of +the entire region, and after conviction they were burnt there literally by +scores. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems strange,” continued the doctor, “that Vezin should +have remained ignorant of all this; but, on the other hand, it was not the kind +of history that successive generations would have been anxious to keep alive, +or to repeat to their children. Therefore I am inclined to think he still knows +nothing about it. +</p> + +<p> +“The whole adventure seems to have been a very vivid revival of the +memories of an earlier life, caused by coming directly into contact with the +living forces still intense enough to hang about the place, and, by a most +singular chance, too, with the very souls who had taken part with him in the +events of that particular life. For the mother and daughter who impressed him +so strangely must have been leading actors, with himself, in the scenes and +practices of witchcraft which at that period dominated the imaginations of the +whole country. +</p> + +<p> +“One has only to read the histories of the times to know that these +witches claimed the power of transforming themselves into various animals, both +for the purposes of disguise and also to convey themselves swiftly to the +scenes of their imaginary orgies. Lycanthropy, or the power to change +themselves into wolves, was everywhere believed in, and the ability to +transform themselves into cats by rubbing their bodies with a special salve or +ointment provided by Satan himself, found equal credence. The witchcraft trials +abound in evidences of such universal beliefs.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence quoted chapter and verse from many writers on the subject, and +showed how every detail of Vezin’s adventure had a basis in the practices +of those dark days. +</p> + +<p> +“But that the entire affair took place subjectively in the man’s +own consciousness, I have no doubt,” he went on, in reply to my +questions; “for my secretary who has been to the town to investigate, +discovered his signature in the visitors’ book, and proved by it that he +had arrived on September 8th, and left suddenly without paying his bill. He +left two days later, and they still were in possession of his dirty brown bag +and some tourist clothes. I paid a few francs in settlement of his debt, and +have sent his luggage on to him. The daughter was absent from home, but the +proprietress, a large woman very much as he described her, told my secretary +that he had seemed a very strange, absent-minded kind of gentleman, and after +his disappearance she had feared for a long time that he had met with a violent +end in the neighbouring forest where he used to roam about alone. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to have obtained a personal interview with the daughter so +as to ascertain how much was subjective and how much actually took place with +her as Vezin told it. For her dread of fire and the sight of burning must, of +course, have been the intuitive memory of her former painful death at the +stake, and have thus explained why he fancied more than once that he saw her +through smoke and flame.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that mark on his skin, for instance?” I inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Merely the marks produced by hysterical brooding,” he replied, +“like the stigmata of the <i>religieuses</i>, and the bruises which +appear on the bodies of hypnotised subjects who have been told to expect them. +This is very common and easily explained. Only it seems curious that these +marks should have remained so long in Vezin’s case. Usually they +disappear quickly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Obviously he is still thinking about it all, brooding, and living it all +over again,” I ventured. +</p> + +<p> +“Probably. And this makes me fear that the end of his trouble is not yet. +We shall hear of him again. It is a case, alas! I can do little to +alleviate.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence spoke gravely and with sadness in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“And what do you make of the Frenchman in the train?” I asked +further—“the man who warned him against the place, <i>à cause du +sommeil et à cause des chats?</i> Surely a very singular incident?” +</p> + +<p> +“A very singular incident indeed,” he made answer slowly, +“and one I can only explain on the basis of a highly improbable +coincidence—” +</p> + +<p> +“Namely?” +</p> + +<p> +“That the man was one who had himself stayed in the town and undergone +there a similar experience. I should like to find this man and ask him. But the +crystal is useless here, for I have no slightest clue to go upon, and I can +only conclude that some singular psychic affinity, some force still active in +his being out of the same past life, drew him thus to the personality of Vezin, +and enabled him to fear what might happen to him, and thus to warn him as he +did. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he presently continued, half talking to himself, “I +suspect in this case that Vezin was swept into the vortex of forces arising out +of the intense activities of a past life, and that he lived over again a scene +in which he had often played a leading part centuries before. For strong +actions set up forces that are so slow to exhaust themselves, they may be said +in a sense never to die. In this case they were not vital enough to render the +illusion complete, so that the little man found himself caught in a very +distressing confusion of the present and the past; yet he was sufficiently +sensitive to recognise that it was true, and to fight against the degradation +of returning, even in memory, to a former and lower state of development. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah yes!” he continued, crossing the floor to gaze at the darkening +sky, and seemingly quite oblivious of my presence, “subliminal up-rushes +of memory like this can be exceedingly painful, and sometimes exceedingly +dangerous. I only trust that this gentle soul may soon escape from this +obsession of a passionate and tempestuous past. But I doubt it, I doubt +it.” +</p> + +<p> +His voice was hushed with sadness as he spoke, and when he turned back into the +room again there was an expression of profound yearning upon his face, the +yearning of a soul whose desire to help is sometimes greater than his power. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CASE III: THE NEMESIS OF FIRE</h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p> +By some means which I never could fathom, John Silence always contrived to keep +the compartment to himself, and as the train had a clear run of two hours +before the first stop, there was ample time to go over the preliminary facts of +the case. He had telephoned to me that very morning, and even through the +disguise of the miles of wire the thrill of incalculable adventure had sounded +in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“As if it were an ordinary country visit,” he called, in reply to +my question; “and don’t forget to bring your gun.” +</p> + +<p> +“With blank cartridges, I suppose?” for I knew his rigid principles +with regard to the taking of life, and guessed that the guns were merely for +some obvious purpose of disguise. +</p> + +<p> +Then he thanked me for coming, mentioned the train, snapped down the receiver, +and left me, vibrating with the excitement of anticipation, to do my packing. +For the honour of accompanying Dr. John Silence on one of his big cases was +what many would have considered an empty honour—and risky. Certainly the +adventure held all manner of possibilities, and I arrived at Waterloo with the +feelings of a man who is about to embark on some dangerous and peculiar mission +in which the dangers he expects to run will not be the ordinary dangers to life +and limb, but of some secret character difficult to name and still more +difficult to cope with. +</p> + +<p> +“The Manor House has a high sound,” he told me, as we sat with our +feet up and talked, “but I believe it is little more than an overgrown +farmhouse in the desolate heather country beyond D——, and its +owner, Colonel Wragge, a retired soldier with a taste for books, lives there +practically alone, I understand, with an elderly invalid sister. So you need +not look forward to a lively visit, unless the case provides some excitement of +its own.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which is likely?” +</p> + +<p> +By way of reply he handed me a letter marked “Private.” It was +dated a week ago, and signed “Yours faithfully, Horace Wragge.” +</p> + +<p> +“He heard of me, you see, through Captain Anderson,” the doctor +explained modestly, as though his fame were not almost world-wide; “you +remember that Indian obsession case—” +</p> + +<p> +I read the letter. Why it should have been marked private was difficult to +understand. It was very brief, direct, and to the point. It referred by way of +introduction to Captain Anderson, and then stated quite simply that the writer +needed help of a peculiar kind and asked for a personal interview—a +morning interview, since it was impossible for him to be absent from the house +at night. The letter was dignified even to the point of abruptness, and it is +difficult to explain how it managed to convey to me the impression of a strong +man, shaken and perplexed. Perhaps the restraint of the wording, and the +mystery of the affair had something to do with it; and the reference to the +Anderson case, the horror of which lay still vivid in my memory, may have +touched the sense of something rather ominous and alarming. But, whatever the +cause, there was no doubt that an impression of serious peril rose somehow out +of that white paper with the few lines of firm writing, and the spirit of a +deep uneasiness ran between the words and reached the mind without any visible +form of expression. +</p> + +<p> +“And when you saw him—?” I asked, returning the letter as the +train rushed clattering noisily through Clapham Junction. +</p> + +<p> +“I have not seen him,” was the reply. “The man’s mind +was charged to the brim when he wrote that; full of vivid mental pictures. +Notice the restraint of it. For the main character of his case psychometry +could be depended upon, and the scrap of paper his hand has touched is +sufficient to give to another mind—a sensitive and sympathetic +mind—clear mental pictures of what is going on. I think I have a very +sound general idea of his problem.” +</p> + +<p> +“So there may be excitement, after all?” +</p> + +<p> +John Silence waited a moment before he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Something very serious is amiss there,” he said gravely, at +length. “Some one—not himself, I gather,—has been meddling +with a rather dangerous kind of gunpowder. So—yes, there may be +excitement, as you put it.” +</p> + +<p> +“And my duties?” I asked, with a decidedly growing interest. +“Remember, I am your ‘assistant.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Behave like an intelligent confidential secretary. Observe everything, +without seeming to. Say nothing—nothing that means anything. Be present +at all interviews. I may ask a good deal of you, for if my impressions are +correct this is—” +</p> + +<p> +He broke off suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“But I won’t tell you my impressions yet,” he resumed after a +moment’s thought. “Just watch and listen as the case proceeds. Form +your own impressions and cultivate your intuitions. We come as ordinary +visitors, of course,” he added, a twinkle showing for an instant in his +eye; “hence, the guns.” +</p> + +<p> +Though disappointed not to hear more, I recognised the wisdom of his words and +knew how valueless my impressions would be once the powerful suggestion of +having heard his own lay behind them. I likewise reflected that intuition +joined to a sense of humour was of more use to a man than double the quantity +of mere “brains,” as such. +</p> + +<p> +Before putting the letter away, however, he handed it back, telling me to place +it against my forehead for a few moments and then describe any pictures that +came spontaneously into my mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t deliberately look for anything. Just imagine you see the +inside of the eyelid, and wait for pictures that rise against its dark +screen.” +</p> + +<p> +I followed his instructions, making my mind as nearly blank as possible. But no +visions came. I saw nothing but the lines of light that pass to and fro like +the changes of a kaleidoscope across the blackness. A momentary sensation of +warmth came and went curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“You see—what?” he asked presently. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” I was obliged to admit disappointedly; “nothing +but the usual flashes of light one always sees. Only, perhaps, they are more +vivid than usual.” +</p> + +<p> +He said nothing by way of comment or reply. +</p> + +<p> +“And they group themselves now and then,” I continued, with painful +candour, for I longed to see the pictures he had spoken of, “group +themselves into globes and round balls of fire, and the lines that flash about +sometimes look like triangles and crosses—almost like geometrical +figures. Nothing more.” +</p> + +<p> +I opened my eyes again, and gave him back the letter. +</p> + +<p> +“It makes my head hot,” I said, feeling somehow unworthy for not +seeing anything of interest. But the look in his eyes arrested my attention at +once. +</p> + +<p> +“That sensation of heat is important,” he said significantly. +</p> + +<p> +“It was certainly real, and rather uncomfortable,” I replied, +hoping he would expand and explain. “There was a distinct feeling of +warmth—internal warmth somewhere—oppressive in a sense.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is interesting,” he remarked, putting the letter back in his +pocket, and settling himself in the corner with newspapers and books. He +vouchsafed nothing more, and I knew the uselessness of trying to make him talk. +Following his example I settled likewise with magazines into my corner. But +when I closed my eyes again to look for the flashing lights and the sensation +of heat, I found nothing but the usual phantasmagoria of the day’s +events—faces, scenes, memories,—and in due course I fell asleep and +then saw nothing at all of any kind. +</p> + +<p> +When we left the train, after six hours’ travelling, at a little wayside +station standing without trees in a world of sand and heather, the late October +shadows had already dropped their sombre veil upon the landscape, and the sun +dipped almost out of sight behind the moorland hills. In a high dogcart, behind +a fast horse, we were soon rattling across the undulating stretches of an open +and bleak country, the keen air stinging our cheeks and the scents of pine and +bracken strong about us. Bare hills were faintly visible against the horizon, +and the coachman pointed to a bank of distant shadows on our left where he told +us the sea lay. Occasional stone farmhouses, standing back from the road among +straggling fir trees, and large black barns that seemed to shift past us with a +movement of their own in the gloom, were the only signs of humanity and +civilisation that we saw, until at the end of a bracing five miles the lights +of the lodge gates flared before us and we plunged into a thick grove of pine +trees that concealed the Manor House up to the moment of actual arrival. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge himself met us in the hall. He was the typical army officer who +had seen service, real service, and found himself in the process. He was tall +and well built, broad in the shoulders, but lean as a greyhound, with grave +eyes, rather stern, and a moustache turning grey. I judged him to be about +sixty years of age, but his movements showed a suppleness of strength and +agility that contradicted the years. The face was full of character and +resolution, the face of a man to be depended upon, and the straight grey eyes, +it seemed to me, wore a veil of perplexed anxiety that he made no attempt to +disguise. The whole appearance of the man at once clothed the adventure with +gravity and importance. A matter that gave such a man cause for serious alarm, +I felt, must be something real and of genuine moment. +</p> + +<p> +His speech and manner, as he welcomed us, were like his letter, simple and +sincere. He had a nature as direct and undeviating as a bullet. Thus, he showed +plainly his surprise that Dr. Silence had not come alone. +</p> + +<p> +“My confidential secretary, Mr. Hubbard,” the doctor said, +introducing me, and the steady gaze and powerful shake of the hand I then +received were well calculated, I remember thinking, to drive home the +impression that here was a man who was not to be trifled with, and whose +perplexity must spring from some very real and tangible cause. And, quite +obviously, he was relieved that we had come. His welcome was unmistakably +genuine. +</p> + +<p> +He led us at once into a room, half library, half smoking-room, that opened out +of the low-ceilinged hall. The Manor House gave the impression of a rambling +and glorified farmhouse, solid, ancient, comfortable, and wholly unpretentious. +And so it was. Only the heat of the place struck me as unnatural. This room +with the blazing fire may have seemed uncomfortably warm after the long drive +through the night air; yet it seemed to me that the hall itself, and the whole +atmosphere of the house, breathed a warmth that hardly belonged to well-filled +grates or the pipes of hot air and water. It was not the heat of the +greenhouse; it was an oppressive heat that somehow got into the head and mind. +It stirred a curious sense of uneasiness in me, and I caught myself thinking of +the sensation of warmth that had emanated from the letter in the train. +</p> + +<p> +I heard him thanking Dr. Silence for having come; there was no preamble, and +the exchange of civilities was of the briefest description. Evidently here was +a man who, like my companion, loved action rather than talk. His manner was +straightforward and direct. I saw him in a flash: puzzled, worried, harassed +into a state of alarm by something he could not comprehend; forced to deal with +things he would have preferred to despise, yet facing it all with dogged +seriousness and making no attempt to conceal that he felt secretly ashamed of +his incompetence. +</p> + +<p> +“So I cannot offer you much entertainment beyond that of my own company, +and the queer business that has been going on here, and is still going +on,” he said, with a slight inclination of the head towards me by way of +including me in his confidence. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, Colonel Wragge,” replied John Silence impressively, +“that we shall none of us find the time hangs heavy. I gather we shall +have our hands full.” +</p> + +<p> +The two men looked at one another for the space of some seconds, and there was +an indefinable quality in their silence which for the first time made me admit +a swift question into my mind; and I wondered a little at my rashness in coming +with so little reflection into a big case of this incalculable doctor. But no +answer suggested itself, and to withdraw was, of course, inconceivable. The +gates had closed behind me now, and the spirit of the adventure was already +besieging my mind with its advance guard of a thousand little hopes and fears. +</p> + +<p> +Explaining that he would wait till after dinner to discuss anything serious, as +no reference was ever made before his sister, he led the way upstairs and +showed us personally to our rooms; and it was just as I was finishing dressing +that a knock came at my door and Dr. Silence entered. +</p> + +<p> +He was always what is called a serious man, so that even in moments of comedy +you felt he never lost sight of the profound gravity of life, but as he came +across the room to me I caught the expression of his face and understood in a +flash that he was now in his most grave and earnest mood. He looked almost +troubled. I stopped fumbling with my black tie and stared. +</p> + +<p> +“It is serious,” he said, speaking in a low voice, “more so +even than I imagined. Colonel Wragge’s control over his thoughts +concealed a great deal in my psychometrising of the letter. I looked in to warn +you to keep yourself well in hand—generally speaking.” +</p> + +<p> +“Haunted house?” I asked, conscious of a distinct shiver down my +back. +</p> + +<p> +But he smiled gravely at the question. +</p> + +<p> +“Haunted House of Life more likely,” he replied, and a look came +into his eyes which I had only seen there when a human soul was in the toils +and he was thick in the fight of rescue. He was stirred in the deeps. +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Wragge—or the sister?” I asked hurriedly, for the +gong was sounding. +</p> + +<p> +“Neither directly,” he said from the door. “Something far +older, something very, very remote indeed. This thing has to do with the ages, +unless I am mistaken greatly, the ages on which the mists of memory have long +lain undisturbed.” +</p> + +<p> +He came across the floor very quickly with a finger on his lips, looking at me +with a peculiar searchingness of gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you aware yet of anything—odd here?” he asked in a +whisper. “Anything you cannot quite define, for instance. Tell me, +Hubbard, for I want to know all your impressions. They may help me.” +</p> + +<p> +I shook my head, avoiding his gaze, for there was something in the eyes that +scared me a little. But he was so in earnest that I set my mind keenly +searching. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing yet,” I replied truthfully, wishing I could confess to a +real emotion; “nothing but the strange heat of the place.” +</p> + +<p> +He gave a little jump forward in my direction. +</p> + +<p> +“The heat again, that’s it!” he exclaimed, as though glad of +my corroboration. “And how would you describe it, perhaps?” he +asked quickly, with a hand on the door knob. +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t seem like ordinary physical heat,” I said, +casting about in my thoughts for a definition. +</p> + +<p> +“More a mental heat,” he interrupted, “a glowing of thought +and desire, a sort of feverish warmth of the spirit. Isn’t that +it?” +</p> + +<p> +I admitted that he had exactly described my sensations. +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” he said, as he opened the door, and with an indescribable +gesture that combined a warning to be ready with a sign of praise for my +correct intuition, he was gone. +</p> + +<p> +I hurried after him, and found the two men waiting for me in front of the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“I ought to warn you,” our host was saying as I came in, +“that my sister, whom you will meet at dinner, is not aware of the real +object of your visit. She is under the impression that we are interested in the +same line of study—folklore—and that your researches have led to my +seeking acquaintance. She comes to dinner in her chair, you know. It will be a +great pleasure to her to meet you both. We have few visitors.” +</p> + +<p> +So that on entering the dining-room we were prepared to find Miss Wragge +already at her place, seated in a sort of bath-chair. She was a vivacious and +charming old lady, with smiling expression and bright eyes, and she chatted all +through dinner with unfailing spontaneity. She had that face, unlined and +fresh, that some people carry through life from the cradle to the grave; her +smooth plump cheeks were all pink and white, and her hair, still dark, was +divided into two glossy and sleek halves on either side of a careful parting. +She wore gold-rimmed glasses, and at her throat was a large scarab of green +jasper that made a very handsome brooch. +</p> + +<p> +Her brother and Dr. Silence talked little, so that most of the conversation was +carried on between herself and me, and she told me a great deal about the +history of the old house, most of which I fear I listened to with but half an +ear. +</p> + +<p> +“And when Cromwell stayed here,” she babbled on, “he occupied +the very rooms upstairs that used to be mine. But my brother thinks it safer +for me to sleep on the ground floor now in case of fire.” +</p> + +<p> +And this sentence has stayed in my memory only because of the sudden way her +brother interrupted her and instantly led the conversation on to another topic. +The passing reference to fire seemed to have disturbed him, and thenceforward +he directed the talk himself. +</p> + +<p> +It was difficult to believe that this lively and animated old lady, sitting +beside me and taking so eager an interest in the affairs of life, was +practically, we understood, without the use of her lower limbs, and that her +whole existence for years had been passed between the sofa, the bed, and the +bath-chair in which she chatted so naturally at the dinner table. She made no +allusion to her affliction until the dessert was reached, and then, touching a +bell, she made us a witty little speech about leaving us “like time, on +noiseless feet,” and was wheeled out of the room by the butler and +carried off to her apartments at the other end of the house. +</p> + +<p> +And the rest of us were not long in following suit, for Dr. Silence and myself +were quite as eager to learn the nature of our errand as our host was to impart +it to us. He led us down a long flagged passage to a room at the very end of +the house, a room provided with double doors, and windows, I saw, heavily +shuttered. Books lined the walls on every side, and a large desk in the bow +window was piled up with volumes, some open, some shut, some showing scraps of +paper stuck between the leaves, and all smothered in a general cataract of +untidy foolscap and loose-half sheets. +</p> + +<p> +“My study and workroom,” explained Colonel Wragge, with a +delightful touch of innocent pride, as though he were a very serious scholar. +He placed arm-chairs for us round the fire. “Here,” he added +significantly, “we shall be safe from interruption and can talk +securely.” +</p> + +<p> +During dinner the manner of the doctor had been all that was natural and +spontaneous, though it was impossible for me, knowing him as I did, not to be +aware that he was subconsciously very keenly alert and already receiving upon +the ultra-sensitive surface of his mind various and vivid impressions; and +there was now something in the gravity of his face, as well as in the +significant tone of Colonel Wragge’s speech, and something, too, in the +fact that we three were shut away in this private chamber about to listen to +things probably strange, and certainly mysterious—something in all this +that touched my imagination sharply and sent an undeniable thrill along my +nerves. Taking the chair indicated by my host, I lit my cigar and waited for +the opening of the attack, fully conscious that we were now too far gone in the +adventure to admit of withdrawal, and wondering a little anxiously where it was +going to lead. +</p> + +<p> +What I expected precisely, it is hard to say. Nothing definite, perhaps. Only +the sudden change was dramatic. A few hours before the prosaic atmosphere of +Piccadilly was about me, and now I was sitting in a secret chamber of this +remote old building waiting to hear an account of things that held possibly the +genuine heart of terror. I thought of the dreary moors and hills outside, and +the dark pine copses soughing in the wind of night; I remembered my +companion’s singular words up in my bedroom before dinner; and then I +turned and noted carefully the stern countenance of the Colonel as he faced us +and lit his big black cigar before speaking. +</p> + +<p> +The threshold of an adventure, I reflected as I waited for the first words, is +always the most thrilling moment—until the climax comes. +</p> + +<p> +But Colonel Wragge hesitated—mentally—a long time before he began. +He talked briefly of our journey, the weather, the country, and other +comparatively trivial topics, while he sought about in his mind for an +appropriate entry into the subject that was uppermost in the thoughts of all of +us. The fact was he found it a difficult matter to speak of at all, and it was +Dr. Silence who finally showed him the way over the hedge. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Hubbard will take a few notes when you are ready—you +won’t object,” he suggested; “I can give my undivided +attention in this way.” +</p> + +<p> +“By all means,” turning to reach some of the loose sheets on the +writing table, and glancing at me. He still hesitated a little, I thought. +“The fact is,” he said apologetically, “I wondered if it was +quite fair to trouble you so soon. The daylight might suit you better to hear +what I have to tell. Your sleep, I mean, might be less disturbed, +perhaps.” +</p> + +<p> +“I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” John Silence replied with his +gentle smile, taking command as it were from that moment, “but really we +are both quite immune. There is nothing, I think, that could prevent either of +us sleeping, except—an outbreak of fire, or some such very physical +disturbance.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge raised his eyes and looked fixedly at him. This reference to an +outbreak of fire I felt sure was made with a purpose. It certainly had the +desired effect of removing from our host’s manner the last signs of +hesitancy. +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me,” he said. “Of course, I know nothing of your +methods in matters of this kind—so, perhaps, you would like me to begin +at once and give you an outline of the situation?” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence bowed his agreement. “I can then take my precautions +accordingly,” he added calmly. +</p> + +<p> +The soldier looked up for a moment as though he did not quite gather the +meaning of these words; but he made no further comment and turned at once to +tackle a subject on which he evidently talked with diffidence and +unwillingness. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all so utterly out of my line of things,” he began, +puffing out clouds of cigar smoke between his words, “and there’s +so little to tell with any real evidence behind it, that it’s almost +impossible to make a consecutive story for you. It’s the total cumulative +effect that is so—so disquieting.” He chose his words with care, as +though determined not to travel one hair’s breadth beyond the truth. +</p> + +<p> +“I came into this place twenty years ago when my elder brother +died,” he continued, “but could not afford to live here then. My +sister, whom you met at dinner, kept house for him till the end, and during all +these years, while I was seeing service abroad, she had an eye to the +place—for we never got a satisfactory tenant—and saw that it was +not allowed to go to ruin. I myself took possession, however, only a year ago. +</p> + +<p> +“My brother,” he went on, after a perceptible pause, “spent +much of his time away, too. He was a great traveller, and filled the house with +stuff he brought home from all over the world. The laundry—a small +detached building beyond the servants’ quarters—he turned into a +regular little museum. The curios and things I have cleared away—they +collected dust and were always getting broken—but the laundry-house you +shall see tomorrow.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge spoke with such deliberation and with so many pauses that this +beginning took him a long time. But at this point he came to a full stop +altogether. Evidently there was something he wished to say that cost him +considerable effort. At length he looked up steadily into my companion’s +face. +</p> + +<p> +“May I ask you—that is, if you won’t think it strange,” +he said, and a sort of hush came over his voice and manner, “whether you +have noticed anything at all unusual—anything queer, since you came into +the house?” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence answered without a moment’s hesitation. +</p> + +<p> +“I have,” he said. “There is a curious sensation of heat in +the place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” exclaimed the other, with a slight start. “You +<i>have</i> noticed it. This unaccountable heat—” +</p> + +<p> +“But its cause, I gather, is not in the house itself—but +outside,” I was astonished to hear the doctor add. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge rose from his chair and turned to unhook a framed map that hung +upon the wall. I got the impression that the movement was made with the +deliberate purpose of concealing his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Your diagnosis, I believe, is amazingly accurate,” he said after a +moment, turning round with the map in his hands. “Though, of course, I +can have no idea how you should guess—” +</p> + +<p> +John Silence shrugged his shoulders expressively. “Merely my +impression,” he said. “If you pay attention to impressions, and do +not allow them to be confused by deductions of the intellect, you will often +find them surprisingly, uncannily, accurate.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge resumed his seat and laid the map upon his knees. His face was +very thoughtful as he plunged abruptly again into his story. +</p> + +<p> +“On coming into possession,” he said, looking us alternately in the +face, “I found a crop of stories of the most extraordinary and impossible +kind I had ever heard—stories which at first I treated with amused +indifference, but later was forced to regard seriously, if only to keep my +servants. These stories I thought I traced to the fact of my brother’s +death—and, in a way, I think so still.” +</p> + +<p> +He leant forward and handed the map to Dr. Silence. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s an old plan of the estate,” he explained, “but +accurate enough for our purpose, and I wish you would note the position of the +plantations marked upon it, especially those near the house. That one,” +indicating the spot with his finger, “is called the Twelve Acre +Plantation. It was just there, on the side nearest the house, that my brother +and the head keeper met their deaths.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke as a man forced to recognise facts that he deplored, and would have +preferred to leave untouched—things he personally would rather have +treated with ridicule if possible. It made his words peculiarly dignified and +impressive, and I listened with an increasing uneasiness as to the sort of help +the doctor would look to me for later. It seemed as though I were a spectator +of some drama of mystery in which any moment I might be summoned to play a +part. +</p> + +<p> +“It was twenty years ago,” continued the Colonel, “but there +was much talk about it at the time, unfortunately, and you may, perhaps, have +heard of the affair. Stride, the keeper, was a passionate, hot-tempered man but +I regret to say, so was my brother, and quarrels between them seem to have been +frequent.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not recall the affair,” said the doctor. “May I ask +what was the cause of death?” Something in his voice made me prick up my +ears for the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“The keeper, it was said, from suffocation. And at the inquest the +doctors averred that both men had been dead the same length of time when +found.” +</p> + +<p> +“And your brother?” asked John Silence, noticing the omission, and +listening intently. +</p> + +<p> +“Equally mysterious,” said our host, speaking in a low voice with +effort. “But there was one distressing feature I think I ought to +mention. For those who saw the face—I did not see it myself—and +though Stride carried a gun its chambers were undischarged—” He +stammered and hesitated with confusion. Again that sense of terror moved +between his words. He stuck. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the chief listener sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +“My brother’s face, they said, looked as though it had been +scorched. It had been swept, as it were, by something that +burned—blasted. It was, I am told, quite dreadful. The bodies were found +lying side by side, faces downwards, both pointing away from the wood, as +though they had been in the act of running, and not more than a dozen yards +from its edge.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence made no comment. He appeared to be studying the map attentively. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not see the face myself,” repeated the other, his manner +somehow expressing the sense of awe he contrived to keep out of his voice, +“but my sister unfortunately did, and her present state I believe to be +entirely due to the shock it gave to her nerves. She never can be brought to +refer to it, naturally, and I am even inclined to think that the memory has +mercifully been permitted to vanish from her mind. But she spoke of it at the +time as a face swept by flame—blasted.” +</p> + +<p> +John Silence looked up from his contemplation of the map, but with the air of +one who wished to listen, not to speak, and presently Colonel Wragge went on +with his account. He stood on the mat, his broad shoulders hiding most of the +mantelpiece. +</p> + +<p> +“They all centred about this particular plantation, these stories. That +was to be expected, for the people here are as superstitious as Irish +peasantry, and though I made one or two examples among them to stop the foolish +talk, it had no effect, and new versions came to my ears every week. You may +imagine how little good dismissals did, when I tell you that the servants +dismissed themselves. It was not the house servants, but the men who worked on +the estate outside. The keepers gave notice one after another, none of them +with any reason I could accept; the foresters refused to enter the wood, and +the beaters to beat in it. Word flew all over the countryside that Twelve Acre +Plantation was a place to be avoided, day or night. +</p> + +<p> +“There came a point,” the Colonel went on, now well in his swing, +“when I felt compelled to make investigations on my own account. I could +not kill the thing by ignoring it; so I collected and analysed the stories at +first hand. For this Twelve Acre Wood, you will see by the map, comes rather +near home. Its lower end, if you will look, almost touches the end of the back +lawn, as I will show you tomorrow, and its dense growth of pines forms the +chief protection the house enjoys from the east winds that blow up from the +sea. And in olden days, before my brother interfered with it and frightened all +the game away, it was one of the best pheasant coverts on the whole +estate.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what form, if I may ask, did this interference take?” asked +Dr. Silence. +</p> + +<p> +“In detail, I cannot tell you, for I do not know—except that I +understand it was the subject of his frequent differences with the head keeper; +but during the last two years of his life, when he gave up travelling and +settled down here, he took a special interest in this wood, and for some +unaccountable reason began to build a low stone wall around it. This wall was +never finished, but you shall see the ruins tomorrow in the daylight.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the result of your investigations—these stories, I +mean?” the doctor broke in, anxious to keep him to the main issues. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’m coming to that,” he said slowly, “but the +wood first, for this wood out of which they grew like mushrooms has nothing in +any way peculiar about it. It is very thickly grown, and rises to a clearer +part in the centre, a sort of mound where there is a circle of large +boulders—old Druid stones, I’m told. At another place there’s +a small pond. There’s nothing distinctive about it that I could +mention—just an ordinary pine-wood, a very ordinary pine-wood—only +the trees are a bit twisted in the trunks, some of ’em, and very dense. +Nothing more. +</p> + +<p> +“And the stories? Well, none of them had anything to do with my poor +brother, or the keeper, as you might have expected; and they were all +odd—such odd things, I mean, to invent or imagine. I never could make out +how these people got such notions into their heads.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment to relight his cigar. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no regular path through it,” he resumed, puffing +vigorously, “but the fields round it are constantly used, and one of the +gardeners whose cottage lies over that way declared he often saw moving lights +in it at night, and luminous shapes like globes of fire over the tops of the +trees, skimming and floating, and making a soft hissing sound—most of +’em said that, in fact—and another man saw shapes flitting in and +out among the trees, things that were neither men nor animals, and all faintly +luminous. No one ever pretended to see human forms—always queer, huge +things they could not properly describe. Sometimes the whole wood was lit up, +and one fellow—he’s still here and you shall see him—has a +most circumstantial yarn about having seen great stars lying on the ground +round the edge of the wood at regular intervals—” +</p> + +<p> +“What kind of stars?” put in John Silence sharply, in a sudden way +that made me start. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know quite; ordinary stars, I think he said, only very +large, and apparently blazing as though the ground was alight. He was too +terrified to go close and examine, and he has never seen them since.” +</p> + +<p> +He stooped and stirred the fire into a welcome blaze—welcome for its +blaze of light rather than for its heat. In the room there was already a +strange pervading sensation of warmth that was oppressive in its effect and far +from comforting. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” he went on, straightening up again on the mat, +“this was all commonplace enough—this seeing lights and figures at +night. Most of these fellows drink, and imagination and terror between them may +account for almost anything. But others saw things in broad daylight. One of +the woodmen, a sober, respectable man, took the shortcut home to his midday +meal, and swore he was followed the whole length of the wood by something that +never showed itself, but dodged from tree to tree, always keeping out of sight, +yet solid enough to make the branches sway and the twigs snap on the ground. +And it made a noise, he declared—but really”—the speaker +stopped and gave a short laugh—“it’s too absurd—” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Please!</i>” insisted the doctor; “for it is these small +details that give me the best clues always.” +</p> + +<p> +“—it made a crackling noise, he said, like a bonfire. Those were +his very words: like the crackling of a bonfire,” finished the soldier, +with a repetition of his short laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Most interesting,” Dr. Silence observed gravely. “Please +omit nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he went on, “and it was soon after that the fires +began—the fires in the wood. They started mysteriously burning in the +patches of coarse white grass that cover the more open parts of the plantation. +No one ever actually saw them start, but many, myself among the number, have +seen them burning and smouldering. They are always small and circular in shape, +and for all the world like a picnic fire. The head keeper has a dozen +explanations, from sparks flying out of the house chimneys to the sunlight +focusing through a dewdrop, but none of them, I must admit, convince me as +being in the least likely or probable. They are most singular, I consider, most +singular, these mysterious fires, and I am glad to say that they come only at +rather long intervals and never seem to spread. +</p> + +<p> +“But the keeper had other queer stories as well, and about things that +are verifiable. He declared that no life ever willingly entered the plantation; +more, that no life existed in it at all. No birds nested in the trees, or flew +into their shade. He set countless traps, but never caught so much as a rabbit +or a weasel. Animals avoided it, and more than once he had picked up dead +creatures round the edges that bore no obvious signs of how they had met their +death. +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover, he told me one extraordinary tale about his retriever chasing +some invisible creature across the field one day when he was out with his gun. +The dog suddenly pointed at something in the field at his feet, and then gave +chase, yelping like a mad thing. It followed its imaginary quarry to the +borders of the wood, and then went in—a thing he had never known it to do +before. The moment it crossed the edge—it is darkish in there even in +daylight—it began fighting in the most frenzied and terrific fashion. It +made him afraid to interfere, he said. And at last, when the dog came out, +hanging its tail down and panting, he found something like white hair stuck to +its jaws, and brought it to show me. I tell you these details +because—” +</p> + +<p> +“They are important, believe me,” the doctor stopped him. +“And you have it still, this hair?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It disappeared in the oddest way,” the Colonel explained. +“It was curious looking stuff, something like asbestos, and I sent it to +be analysed by the local chemist. But either the man got wind of its origin, or +else he didn’t like the look of it for some reason, because he returned +it to me and said it was neither animal, vegetable, nor mineral, so far as he +could make out, and he didn’t wish to have anything to do with it. I put +it away in paper, but a week later, on opening the package—it was gone! +Oh, the stories are simply endless. I could tell you hundreds all on the same +lines.” +</p> + +<p> +“And personal experiences of your own, Colonel Wragge?” asked John +Silence earnestly, his manner showing the greatest possible interest and +sympathy. +</p> + +<p> +The soldier gave an almost imperceptible start. He looked distinctly +uncomfortable. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, I think,” he said slowly, “nothing—er—I +should like to rely on. I mean nothing I have the right to speak of, +perhaps—yet.” +</p> + +<p> +His mouth closed with a snap. Dr. Silence, after waiting a little to see if he +would add to his reply, did not seek to press him on the point. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he resumed presently, and as though he would speak +contemptuously, yet dared not, “this sort of thing has gone on at +intervals ever since. It spreads like wildfire, of course, mysterious chatter +of this kind, and people began trespassing all over the estate, coming to see +the wood, and making themselves a general nuisance. Notices of man-traps and +spring-guns only seemed to increase their persistence; and—think of +it,” he snorted, “some local Research Society actually wrote and +asked permission for one of their members to spend a night in the wood! Bolder +fools, who didn’t write for leave, came and took away bits of bark from +the trees and gave them to clairvoyants, who invented in their turn a further +batch of tales. There was simply no end to it all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most distressing and annoying, I can well believe,” interposed the +doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“Then suddenly, the phenomena ceased as mysteriously as they had begun, +and the interest flagged. The tales stopped. People got interested in something +else. It all seemed to die out. This was last July. I can tell you exactly, for +I’ve kept a diary more or less of what happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +“But now, quite recently, within the past three weeks, it has all revived +again with a rush—with a kind of furious attack, so to speak. It has +really become unbearable. You may imagine what it means, and the general state +of affairs, when I say that the possibility of leaving has occurred to +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Incendiarism?” suggested Dr. Silence, half under his breath, but +not so low that Colonel Wragge did not hear him. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, sir, you take the very words out of my mouth!” exclaimed +the astonished man, glancing from the doctor to me and from me to the doctor, +and rattling the money in his pocket as though some explanation of my +friend’s divining powers were to be found that way. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s only that you are thinking very vividly,” the doctor +said quietly, “and your thoughts form pictures in my mind before you +utter them. It’s merely a little elementary thought-reading.” +</p> + +<p> +His intention, I saw, was not to perplex the good man, but to impress him with +his powers so as to ensure obedience later. +</p> + +<p> +“Good Lord! I had no idea—” He did not finish the sentence, +and dived again abruptly into his narrative. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not see anything myself, I must admit, but the stories of +independent eye-witnesses were to the effect that lines of light, like streams +of thin fire, moved through the wood and sometimes were seen to shoot out +precisely as flames might shoot out—in the direction of this house. +There,” he explained, in a louder voice that made me jump, pointing with +a thick finger to the map, “where the westerly fringe of the plantation +comes up to the end of the lower lawn at the back of the house—where it +links on to those dark patches, which are laurel shrubberies, running right up +to the back premises—that’s where these lights were seen. They +passed from the wood to the shrubberies, and in this way reached the house +itself. Like silent rockets, one man described them, rapid as lightning and +exceedingly bright.” +</p> + +<p> +“And this evidence you spoke of?” +</p> + +<p> +“They actually reached the sides of the house. They’ve left a mark +of scorching on the walls—the walls of the laundry building at the other +end. You shall see ’em tomorrow.” He pointed to the map to indicate +the spot, and then straightened himself and glared about the room as though he +had said something no one could believe and expected contradiction. +</p> + +<p> +“Scorched—just as the faces were,” the doctor murmured, +looking significantly at me. +</p> + +<p> +“Scorched—yes,” repeated the Colonel, failing to catch the +rest of the sentence in his excitement. +</p> + +<p> +There was a prolonged silence in the room, in which I heard the gurgling of the +oil in the lamp and the click of the coals and the heavy breathing of our host. +The most unwelcome sensations were creeping about my spine, and I wondered +whether my companion would scorn me utterly if I asked to sleep on the sofa in +his room. It was eleven o’clock, I saw by the clock on the mantelpiece. +We had crossed the dividing line and were now well in the movement of the +adventure. The fight between my interest and my dread became acute. But, even +if turning back had been possible, I think the interest would have easily +gained the day. +</p> + +<p> +“I have enemies, of course,” I heard the Colonel’s rough +voice break into the pause presently, “and have discharged a number of +servants—” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not that,” put in John Silence briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“You think not? In a sense I am glad, and yet—there are some things +that can be met and dealt with—” +</p> + +<p> +He left the sentence unfinished, and looked down at the floor with an +expression of grim severity that betrayed a momentary glimpse of character. +This fighting man loathed and abhorred the thought of an enemy he could not see +and come to grips with. Presently he moved over and sat down in the chair +between us. Something like a sigh escaped him. Dr. Silence said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“My sister, of course, is kept in ignorance, as far as possible, of all +this,” he said disconnectedly, and as if talking to himself. “But +even if she knew she would find matter-of-fact explanations. I only wish I +could. I’m sure they exist.” +</p> + +<p> +There came then an interval in the conversation that was very significant. It +did not seem a real pause, or the silence real silence, for both men continued +to think so rapidly and strongly that one almost imagined their thoughts +clothed themselves in words in the air of the room. I was more than a little +keyed up with the strange excitement of all I had heard, but what stimulated my +nerves more than anything else was the obvious fact that the doctor was clearly +upon the trail of discovery. In his mind at that moment, I believe, he had +already solved the nature of this perplexing psychical problem. His face was +like a mask, and he employed the absolute minimum of gesture and words. All his +energies were directed inwards, and by those incalculable methods and processes +he had mastered with such infinite patience and study, I felt sure he was +already in touch with the forces behind these singular phenomena and laying his +deep plans for bringing them into the open, and then effectively dealing with +them. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge meanwhile grew more and more fidgety. From time to time he +turned towards my companion, as though about to speak, yet always changing his +mind at the last moment. Once he went over and opened the door suddenly, +apparently to see if any one were listening at the keyhole, for he disappeared +a moment between the two doors, and I then heard him open the outer one. He +stood there for some seconds and made a noise as though he were sniffing the +air like a dog. Then he closed both doors cautiously and came back to the +fireplace. A strange excitement seemed growing upon him. Evidently he was +trying to make up his mind to say something that he found it difficult to say. +And John Silence, as I rightly judged, was waiting patiently for him to choose +his own opportunity and his own way of saying it. At last he turned and faced +us, squaring his great shoulders, and stiffening perceptibly. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence looked up sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +“Your own experiences help me most,” he observed quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“The fact is,” the Colonel said, speaking very low, “this +past week there have been outbreaks of fire in the house itself. Three separate +outbreaks—and all—in my sister’s room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” the doctor said, as if this was just what he had expected to +hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Utterly unaccountable—all of them,” added the other, and +then sat down. I began to understand something of the reason of his excitement. +He was realising at last that the “natural” explanation he had held +to all along was becoming impossible, and he hated it. It made him angry. +</p> + +<p> +“Fortunately,” he went on, “she was out each time and does +not know. But I have made her sleep now in a room on the ground floor.” +</p> + +<p> +“A wise precaution,” the doctor said simply. He asked one or two +questions. The fires had started in the curtains—once by the window and +once by the bed. The third time smoke had been discovered by the maid coming +from the cupboard, and it was found that Miss Wragge’s clothes hanging on +the hooks were smouldering. The doctor listened attentively, but made no +comment. +</p> + +<p> +“And now can you tell me,” he said presently, “what your own +feeling about it is—your general impression?” +</p> + +<p> +“It sounds foolish to say so,” replied the soldier, after a +moment’s hesitation, “but I feel exactly as I have often felt on +active service in my Indian campaigns: just as if the house and all in it were +in a state of siege; as though a concealed enemy were encamped about +us—in ambush somewhere.” He uttered a soft nervous laugh. “As +if the next sign of smoke would precipitate a panic—a dreadful +panic.” +</p> + +<p> +The picture came before me of the night shadowing the house, and the twisted +pine trees he had described crowding about it, concealing some powerful enemy; +and, glancing at the resolute face and figure of the old soldier, forced at +length to his confession, I understood something of all he had been through +before he sought the assistance of John Silence. +</p> + +<p> +“And tomorrow, unless I am mistaken, is full moon,” said the doctor +suddenly, watching the other’s face for the effect of his apparently +careless words. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge gave an uncontrollable start, and his face for the first time +showed unmistakable pallor. +</p> + +<p> +“What in the world—?” he began, his lip quivering. +</p> + +<p> +“Only that I am beginning to see light in this extraordinary +affair,” returned the other calmly, “and, if my theory is correct, +each month when the moon is at the full should witness an increase in the +activity of the phenomena.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see the connection,” Colonel Wragge answered almost +savagely, “but I am bound to say my diary bears you out.” He wore +the most puzzled expression I have ever seen upon an honest face, but he +abhorred this additional corroboration of an explanation that perplexed him. +</p> + +<p> +“I confess,” he repeated, “I cannot see the +connection.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should you?” said the doctor, with his first laugh that +evening. He got up and hung the map upon the wall again. “But I +do—because these things are my special study—and let me add that I +have yet to come across a problem that is not natural, and has not a natural +explanation. It’s merely a question of how much one knows—and +admits.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge eyed him with a new and curious respect in his face. But his +feelings were soothed. Moreover, the doctor’s laugh and change of manner +came as a relief to all, and broke the spell of grave suspense that had held us +so long. We all rose and stretched our limbs, and took little walks about the +room. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad, Dr. Silence, if you will allow me to say so, that you are +here,” he said simply, “very glad indeed. And now I fear I have +kept you both up very late,” with a glance to include me, “for you +must be tired, and ready for your beds. I have told you all there is to +tell,” he added, “and tomorrow you must feel perfectly free to take +any steps you think necessary.” +</p> + +<p> +The end was abrupt, yet natural, for there was nothing more to say, and neither +of these men talked for mere talking’s sake. +</p> + +<p> +Out in the cold and chilly hall he lit our candles and took us upstairs. The +house was at rest and still, every one asleep. We moved softly. Through the +windows on the stairs we saw the moonlight falling across the lawn, throwing +deep shadows. The nearer pine trees were just visible in the distance, a wall +of impenetrable blackness. +</p> + +<p> +Our host came for a moment to our rooms to see that we had everything. He +pointed to a coil of strong rope lying beside the window, fastened to the wall +by means of an iron ring. Evidently it had been recently put in. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think we shall need it,” Dr. Silence said, with a +smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I trust not,” replied our host gravely. “I sleep quite close +to you across the landing,” he whispered, pointing to his door, +“and if you—if you want anything in the night you will know where +to find me.” +</p> + +<p> +He wished us pleasant dreams and disappeared down the passage into his room, +shading the candle with his big muscular hand from the draughts. +</p> + +<p> +John Silence stopped me a moment before I went. +</p> + +<p> +“You know what it is?” I asked, with an excitement that even +overcame my weariness. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “I’m almost sure. And you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not the smallest notion.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked disappointed, but not half as disappointed as I felt. +</p> + +<p> +“Egypt,” he whispered, “Egypt!” +</p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p> +Nothing happened to disturb me in the night—nothing, that is, except a +nightmare in which Colonel Wragge chased me amid thin streaks of fire, and his +sister always prevented my escape by suddenly rising up out of the ground in +her chair—dead. The deep baying of dogs woke me once, just before the +dawn, it must have been, for I saw the window frame against the sky; there was +a flash of lightning, too, I thought, as I turned over in bed. And it was warm, +for October oppressively warm. +</p> + +<p> +It was after eleven o’clock when our host suggested going out with the +guns, these, we understood, being a somewhat thin disguise for our true +purpose. Personally, I was glad to be in the open air, for the atmosphere of +the house was heavy with presentiment. The sense of impending disaster hung +over all. Fear stalked the passages, and lurked in the corners of every room. +It was a house haunted, but really haunted; not by some vague shadow of the +dead, but by a definite though incalculable influence that was actively alive, +and dangerous. At the least smell of smoke the entire household quivered. An +odour of burning, I was convinced, would paralyse all the inmates. For the +servants, though professedly ignorant by the master’s unspoken orders, +yet shared the common dread; and the hideous uncertainty, joined with this +display of so spiteful and calculated a spirit of malignity, provided a kind of +black doom that draped not only the walls, but also the minds of the people +living within them. +</p> + +<p> +Only the bright and cheerful vision of old Miss Wragge being pushed about the +house in her noiseless chair, chatting and nodding briskly to every one she +met, prevented us from giving way entirely to the depression which governed the +majority. The sight of her was like a gleam of sunshine through the depths of +some ill-omened wood, and just as we went out I saw her being wheeled along by +her attendant into the sunshine of the back lawn, and caught her cheery smile +as she turned her head and wished us good sport. +</p> + +<p> +The morning was October at its best. Sunshine glistened on the dew-drenched +grass and on leaves turned golden-red. The dainty messengers of coming +hoar-frost were already in the air, a search for permanent winter quarters. +From the wide moors that everywhere swept up against the sky, like a purple sea +splashed by the occasional grey of rocky clefts, there stole down the cool and +perfumed wind of the west. And the keen taste of the sea ran through all like a +master-flavour, borne over the spaces perhaps by the seagulls that cried and +circled high in the air. +</p> + +<p> +But our host took little interest in this sparkling beauty, and had no thought +of showing off the scenery of his property. His mind was otherwise intent, and, +for that matter, so were our own. +</p> + +<p> +“Those bleak moors and hills stretch unbroken for hours,” he said, +with a sweep of the hand; “and over there, some four miles,” +pointing in another direction, “lies S—— Bay, a long, swampy +inlet of the sea, haunted by myriads of seabirds. On the other side of the +house are the plantations and pine-woods. I thought we would get the dogs and +go first to the Twelve Acre Wood I told you about last night. It’s quite +near.” +</p> + +<p> +We found the dogs in the stable, and I recalled the deep baying of the night +when a fine bloodhound and two great Danes leaped out to greet us. Singular +companions for guns, I thought to myself, as we struck out across the fields +and the great creatures bounded and ran beside us, nose to ground. +</p> + +<p> +The conversation was scanty. John Silence’s grave face did not encourage +talk. He wore the expression I knew well—that look of earnest solicitude +which meant that his whole being was deeply absorbed and preoccupied. +Frightened, I had never seen him, but anxious often—it always moved me to +witness it—and he was anxious now. +</p> + +<p> +“On the way back you shall see the laundry building,” Colonel +Wragge observed shortly, for he, too, found little to say. “We shall +attract less attention then.” +</p> + +<p> +Yet not all the crisp beauty of the morning seemed able to dispel the feelings +of uneasy dread that gathered increasingly about our minds as we went. +</p> + +<p> +In a very few minutes a clump of pine trees concealed the house from view, and +we found ourselves on the outskirts of a densely grown plantation of conifers. +Colonel Wragge stopped abruptly, and, producing a map from his pocket, +explained once more very briefly its position with regard to the house. He +showed how it ran up almost to the walls of the laundry building—though +at the moment beyond our actual view—and pointed to the windows of his +sister’s bedroom where the fires had been. The room, now empty, looked +straight on to the wood. Then, glancing nervously about him, and calling the +dogs to heel, he proposed that we should enter the plantation and make as +thorough examination of it as we thought worth while. The dogs, he added, might +perhaps be persuaded to accompany us a little way—and he pointed to where +they cowered at his feet—but he doubted it. “Neither voice nor whip +will get them very far, I’m afraid,” he said. “I know by +experience.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you have no objection,” replied Dr. Silence, with decision, and +speaking almost for the first time, “we will make our examination +alone—Mr. Hubbard and myself. It will be best so.” +</p> + +<p> +His tone was absolutely final, and the Colonel acquiesced so politely that even +a less intuitive man than myself must have seen that he was genuinely relieved. +</p> + +<p> +“You doubtless have good reasons,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Merely that I wish to obtain my impressions uncoloured. This delicate +clue I am working on might be so easily blurred by the thought-currents of +another mind with strongly preconceived ideas.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly. I understand,” rejoined the soldier, though with an +expression of countenance that plainly contradicted his words. “Then I +will wait here with the dogs; and we’ll have a look at the laundry on our +way home.” +</p> + +<p> +I turned once to look back as we clambered over the low stone wall built by the +late owner, and saw his straight, soldierly figure standing in the sunlit field +watching us with a curiously intent look on his face. There was something to me +incongruous, yet distinctly pathetic, in the man’s efforts to meet all +far-fetched explanations of the mystery with contempt, and at the same time in +his stolid, unswerving investigation of it all. He nodded at me and made a +gesture of farewell with his hand. That picture of him, standing in the +sunshine with his big dogs, steadily watching us, remains with me to this day. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence led the way in among the twisted trunks, planted closely together +in serried ranks, and I followed sharp at his heels. The moment we were out of +sight he turned and put down his gun against the roots of a big tree, and I did +likewise. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall hardly want these cumbersome weapons of murder,” he +observed, with a passing smile. +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure of your clue, then?” I asked at once, bursting with +curiosity, yet fearing to betray it lest he should think me unworthy. His own +methods were so absolutely simple and untheatrical. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure of my clue,” he answered gravely. “And I think we +have come just in time. You shall know in due course. For the present—be +content to follow and observe. And think, steadily. The support of your mind +will help me.” +</p> + +<p> +His voice had that quiet mastery in it which leads men to face death with a +sort of happiness and pride. I would have followed him anywhere at that moment. +At the same time his words conveyed a sense of dread seriousness. I caught the +thrill of his confidence; but also, in this broad light of day, I felt the +measure of alarm that lay behind. +</p> + +<p> +“You still have no strong impressions?” he asked. “Nothing +happened in the night, for instance? No vivid dreamings?” +</p> + +<p> +He looked closely for my answer, I was aware. +</p> + +<p> +“I slept almost an unbroken sleep. I was tremendously tired, you know, +and, but for the oppressive heat—” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! You still notice the heat, then,” he said to himself, rather +than expecting an answer. “And the lightning?” he added, +“that lightning out of a clear sky—that flashing—did you +notice <i>that</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +I answered truly that I thought I had seen a flash during a moment of +wakefulness, and he then drew my attention to certain facts before moving on. +</p> + +<p> +“You remember the sensation of warmth when you put the letter to your +forehead in the train; the heat generally in the house last evening, and, as +you now mention, in the night. You heard, too, the Colonel’s stories +about the appearances of fire in this wood and in the house itself, and the way +his brother and the gamekeeper came to their deaths twenty years ago.” +</p> + +<p> +I nodded, wondering what in the world it all meant. +</p> + +<p> +“And you get no clue from these facts?” he asked, a trifle +surprised. +</p> + +<p> +I searched every corner of my mind and imagination for some inkling of his +meaning, but was obliged to admit that I understood nothing so far. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, you will later. And now,” he added, “we will go +over the wood and see what we can find.” +</p> + +<p> +His words explained to me something of his method. We were to keep our minds +alert and report to each other the least fancy that crossed the picture-gallery +of our thoughts. Then, just as we started, he turned again to me with a final +warning. +</p> + +<p> +“And, for your safety,” he said earnestly, “imagine +<i>now</i>—and for that matter, imagine always until we leave this +place—imagine with the utmost keenness, that you are surrounded by a +shell that protects you. Picture yourself inside a protective envelope, and +build it up with the most intense imagination you can evoke. Pour the whole +force of your thought and will into it. Believe vividly all through this +adventure that such a shell, constructed of your thought, will and imagination, +surrounds you completely, and that nothing can pierce it to attack.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke with dramatic conviction, gazing hard at me as though to enforce his +meaning, and then moved forward and began to pick his way over the rough, +tussocky ground into the wood. And meanwhile, knowing the efficacy of his +prescription, I adopted it to the best of my ability. +</p> + +<p> +The trees at once closed about us like the night. Their branches met overhead +in a continuous tangle, their stems crept closer and closer, the brambly +undergrowth thickened and multiplied. We tore our trousers, scratched our +hands, and our eyes filled with fine dust that made it most difficult to avoid +the clinging, prickly network of branches and creepers. Coarse white grass that +caught our feet like string grew here and there in patches. It crowned the +lumps of peaty growth that stuck up like human heads, fantastically dressed, +thrusting up at us out of the ground with crests of dead hair. We stumbled and +floundered among them. It was hard going, and I could well conceive it +impossible to find a way at all in the night-time. We jumped, when possible, +from tussock to tussock, and it seemed as though we were springing among heads +on a battlefield, and that this dead white grass concealed eyes that turned to +stare as we passed. +</p> + +<p> +Here and there the sunlight shot in with vivid spots of white light, dazzling +the sight, but only making the surrounding gloom deeper by contrast. And on two +occasions we passed dark circular places in the grass where fires had eaten +their mark and left a ring of ashes. Dr. Silence pointed to them, but without +comment and without pausing, and the sight of them woke in me a singular +realisation of the dread that lay so far only just out of sight in this +adventure. +</p> + +<p> +It was exhausting work, and heavy going. We kept close together. The warmth, +too, was extraordinary. Yet it did not seem the warmth of the body due to +violent exertion, but rather an inner heat of the mind that laid glowing hands +of fire upon the heart and set the brain in a kind of steady blaze. When my +companion found himself too far in advance, he waited for me to come up. The +place had evidently been untouched by hand of man, keeper, forester or +sportsman, for many a year; and my thoughts, as we advanced painfully, were not +unlike the state of the wood itself—dark, confused, full of a haunting +wonder and the shadow of fear. +</p> + +<p> +By this time all signs of the open field behind us were hid. No single gleam +penetrated. We might have been groping in the heart of some primeval forest. +Then, suddenly, the brambles and tussocks and stringlike grass came to an end; +the trees opened out; and the ground began to slope upwards towards a large +central mound. We had reached the middle of the plantation, and before us stood +the broken Druid stones our host had mentioned. We walked easily up the little +hill, between the sparser stems, and, resting upon one of the ivy-covered +boulders, looked round upon a comparatively open space, as large, perhaps, as a +small London Square. +</p> + +<p> +Thinking of the ceremonies and sacrifices this rough circle of prehistoric +monoliths might have witnessed, I looked up into my companion’s face with +an unspoken question. But he read my thought and shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Our mystery has nothing to do with these dead symbols,” he said, +“but with something perhaps even more ancient, and of another country +altogether.” +</p> + +<p> +“Egypt?” I said half under my breath, hopelessly puzzled, but +recalling his words in my bedroom. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded. Mentally I still floundered, but he seemed intensely preoccupied and +it was no time for asking questions; so while his words circled unintelligibly +in my mind I looked round at the scene before me, glad of the opportunity to +recover breath and some measure of composure. But hardly had I time to notice +the twisted and contorted shapes of many of the pine trees close at hand when +Dr. Silence leaned over and touched me on the shoulder. He pointed down the +slope. And the look I saw in his eyes keyed up every nerve in my body to its +utmost pitch. +</p> + +<p> +A thin, almost imperceptible column of blue smoke was rising among the trees +some twenty yards away at the foot of the mound. It curled up and up, and +disappeared from sight among the tangled branches overhead. It was scarcely +thicker than the smoke from a small brand of burning wood. +</p> + +<p> +“Protect yourself! Imagine your shell strongly,” whispered the +doctor sharply, “and follow me closely.” +</p> + +<p> +He rose at once and moved swiftly down the slope towards the smoke, and I +followed, afraid to remain alone. I heard the soft crunching of our steps on +the pine needles. Over his shoulder I watched the thin blue spiral, without +once taking my eyes off it. I hardly know how to describe the peculiar sense of +vague horror inspired in me by the sight of that streak of smoke pencilling its +way upwards among the dark trees. And the sensation of increasing heat as we +approached was phenomenal. It was like walking towards a glowing yet invisible +fire. +</p> + +<p> +As we drew nearer his pace slackened. Then he stopped and pointed, and I saw a +small circle of burnt grass upon the ground. The tussocks were blackened and +smouldering, and from the centre rose this line of smoke, pale, blue, steady. +Then I noticed a movement of the atmosphere beside us, as if the warm air were +rising and the cooler air rushing in to take its place: a little centre of wind +in the stillness. Overhead the boughs stirred and trembled where the smoke +disappeared. Otherwise, not a tree sighed, not a sound made itself heard. The +wood was still as a graveyard. A horrible idea came to me that the course of +nature was about to change without warning, had changed a little already, that +the sky would drop, or the surface of the earth crash inwards like a broken +bubble. Something, certainly, reached up to the citadel of my reason, causing +its throne to shake. +</p> + +<p> +John Silence moved forward again. I could not see his face, but his attitude +was plainly one of resolution, of muscles and mind ready for vigorous action. +We were within ten feet of the blackened circle when the smoke of a sudden +ceased to rise, and vanished. The tail of the column disappeared in the air +above, and at the same instant it seemed to me that the sensation of heat +passed from my face, and the motion of the wind was gone. The calm spirit of +the fresh October day resumed command. +</p> + +<p> +Side by side we advanced and examined the place. The grass was smouldering, the +ground still hot. The circle of burned earth was a foot to a foot and a half in +diameter. It looked like an ordinary picnic fireplace. I bent down cautiously +to look, but in a second I sprang back with an involuntary cry of alarm, for, +as the doctor stamped on the ashes to prevent them spreading, a sound of +hissing rose from the spot as though he had kicked a living creature. This +hissing was faintly audible in the air. It moved past us, away towards the +thicker portion of the wood in the direction of our field, and in a second Dr. +Silence had left the fire and started in pursuit. +</p> + +<p> +And then began the most extraordinary hunt of invisibility I can ever conceive. +</p> + +<p> +He went fast even at the beginning, and, of course, it was perfectly obvious +that he was following something. To judge by the poise of his head he kept his +eyes steadily at a certain level—just above the height of a man—and +the consequence was he stumbled a good deal over the roughness of the ground. +The hissing sound had stopped. There was no sound of any kind, and what he saw +to follow was utterly beyond me. I only know, that in mortal dread of being +left behind, and with a biting curiosity to see whatever there was to be seen, +I followed as quickly as I could, and even then barely succeeded in keeping up +with him. +</p> + +<p> +And, as we went, the whole mad jumble of the Colonel’s stories ran +through my brain, touching a sense of frightened laughter that was only held in +check by the sight of this earnest, hurrying figure before me. For John Silence +at work inspired me with a kind of awe. He looked so diminutive among these +giant twisted trees, while yet I knew that his purpose and his knowledge were +so great, and even in hurry he was dignified. The fancy that we were playing +some queer, exaggerated game together met the fact that we were two men dancing +upon the brink of some possible tragedy, and the mingling of the two emotions +in my mind was both grotesque and terrifying. +</p> + +<p> +He never turned in his mad chase, but pushed rapidly on, while I panted after +him like a figure in some unreasoning nightmare. And, as I ran, it came upon me +that he had been aware all the time, in his quiet, internal way, of many things +that he had kept for his own secret consideration; he had been watching, +waiting, planning from the very moment we entered the shade of the wood. By +some inner, concentrated process of mind, dynamic if not actually magical, he +had been in direct contact with the source of the whole adventure, the very +essence of the real mystery. And now the forces were moving to a climax. +Something was about to happen, something important, something possibly +dreadful. Every nerve, every sense, every significant gesture of the plunging +figure before me proclaimed the fact just as surely as the skies, the winds, +and the face of the earth tell the birds the time to migrate and warn the +animals that danger lurks and they must move. +</p> + +<p> +In a few moments we reached the foot of the mound and entered the tangled +undergrowth that lay between us and the sunlight of the field. Here the +difficulties of fast travelling increased a hundredfold. There were brambles to +dodge, low boughs to dive under, and countless tree trunks closing up to make a +direct path impossible. Yet Dr. Silence never seemed to falter or hesitate. He +went, diving, jumping, dodging, ducking, but ever in the same main direction, +following a clean trail. Twice I tripped and fell, and both times, when I +picked myself up again, I saw him ahead of me, still forcing a way like a dog +after its quarry. And sometimes, like a dog, he stopped and pointed—human +pointing it was, psychic pointing, and each time he stopped to point I heard +that faint high hissing in the air beyond us. The instinct of an infallible +dowser possessed him, and he made no mistakes. +</p> + +<p> +At length, abruptly, I caught up with him, and found that we stood at the edge +of the shallow pond Colonel Wragge had mentioned in his account the night +before. It was long and narrow, filled with dark brown water, in which the +trees were dimly reflected. Not a ripple stirred its surface. +</p> + +<p> +“Watch!” he cried out, as I came up. “It’s going to +cross. It’s bound to betray itself. The water is its natural enemy, and +we shall see the direction.” +</p> + +<p> +And, even as he spoke, a thin line like the track of a water-spider, shot +swiftly across the shiny surface; there was a ghost of steam in the air above; +and immediately I became aware of an odour of burning. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence turned and shot a glance at me that made me think of lightning. I +began to shake all over. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick!” he cried with excitement, “to the trail again! We +must run around. It’s going to the house!” +</p> + +<p> +The alarm in his voice quite terrified me. Without a false step I dashed round +the slippery banks and dived again at his heels into the sea of bushes and tree +trunks. We were now in the thick of the very dense belt that ran around the +outer edge of the plantation, and the field was near; yet so dark was the +tangle that it was some time before the first shafts of white sunlight became +visible. The doctor now ran in zigzags. He was following something that dodged +and doubled quite wonderfully, yet had begun, I fancied, to move more slowly +than before. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick!” he cried. “In the light we shall lose it!” +</p> + +<p> +I still saw nothing, heard nothing, caught no suggestion of a trail; yet this +man, guided by some interior divining that seemed infallible, made no false +turns, though how he failed to crash headlong into the trees has remained a +mystery to me ever since. And then, with a sudden rush, we found ourselves on +the skirts of the wood with the open field lying in bright sunshine before our +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Too late!” I heard him cry, a note of anguish in his voice. +“It’s out—and, by God, it’s making for the +house!” +</p> + +<p> +I saw the Colonel standing in the field with his dogs where we had left him. He +was bending double, peering into the wood where he heard us running, and he +straightened up like a bent whip released. John Silence dashed passed, calling +him to follow. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall lose the trail in the light,” I heard him cry as he ran. +“But quick! We may yet get there in time!” +</p> + +<p> +That wild rush across the open field, with the dogs at our heels, leaping and +barking, and the elderly Colonel behind us running as though for his life, +shall I ever forget it? Though I had only vague ideas of the meaning of it all, +I put my best foot forward, and, being the youngest of the three, I reached the +house an easy first. I drew up, panting, and turned to wait for the others. +But, as I turned, something moving a little distance away caught my eye, and in +that moment I swear I experienced the most overwhelming and singular shock of +surprise and terror I have ever known, or can conceive as possible. +</p> + +<p> +For the front door was open, and the waist of the house being narrow, I could +see through the hall into the dining-room beyond, and so out on to the back +lawn, and there I saw no less a sight than the figure of Miss +Wragge—running. Even at that distance it was plain that she had seen me, +and was coming fast towards me, running with the frantic gait of a +terror-stricken woman. She had recovered the use of her legs. +</p> + +<p> +Her face was a livid grey, as of death itself, but the general expression was +one of laughter, for her mouth was gaping, and her eyes, always bright, shone +with the light of a wild merriment that seemed the merriment of a child, yet +was singularly ghastly. And that very second, as she fled past me into her +brother’s arms behind, I smelt again most unmistakably the odour of +burning, and to this day the smell of smoke and fire can come very near to +turning me sick with the memory of what I had seen. +</p> + +<p> +Fast on her heels, too, came the terrified attendant, more mistress of herself, +and able to speak—which the old lady could not do—but with a face +almost, if not quite, as fearful. +</p> + +<p> +“We were down by the bushes in the sun,”—she gasped and +screamed in reply to Colonel Wragge’s distracted +questionings,—“I was wheeling the chair as usual when she shrieked +and leaped—I don’t know exactly—I was too frightened to +see—Oh, my God! she jumped clean out of the chair—<i>and ran</i>! +There was a blast of hot air from the wood, and she hid her face and jumped. +She didn’t make a sound—she didn’t cry out, or make a sound. +She just ran.” +</p> + +<p> +But the nightmare horror of it all reached the breaking point a few minutes +later, and while I was still standing in the hall temporarily bereft of speech +and movement; for while the doctor, the Colonel and the attendant were half-way +up the staircase, helping the fainting woman to the privacy of her room, and +all in a confused group of dark figures, there sounded a voice behind me, and I +turned to see the butler, his face dripping with perspiration, his eyes +starting out of his head. +</p> + +<p> +“The laundry’s on fire!” he cried; “the laundry +building’s a-caught!” +</p> + +<p> +I remember his odd expression “a-caught,” and wanting to laugh, but +finding my face rigid and inflexible. +</p> + +<p> +“The devil’s about again, s’help me Gawd!” he cried, in +a voice thin with terror, running about in circles. +</p> + +<p> +And then the group on the stairs scattered as at the sound of a shot, and the +Colonel and Dr. Silence came down three steps at a time, leaving the afflicted +Miss Wragge to the care of her single attendant. +</p> + +<p> +We were out across the front lawn in a moment and round the corner of the +house, the Colonel leading, Silence and I at his heels, and the portly butler +puffing some distance in the rear, getting more and more mixed in his addresses +to God and the devil; and the moment we passed the stables and came into view +of the laundry building, we saw a wicked-looking volume of smoke pouring out of +the narrow windows, and the frightened women-servants and grooms running hither +and thither, calling aloud as they ran. +</p> + +<p> +The arrival of the master restored order instantly, and this retired soldier, +poor thinker perhaps, but capable man of action, had the matter in hand from +the start. He issued orders like a martinet, and, almost before I could realise +it, there were streaming buckets on the scene and a line of men and women +formed between the building and the stable pump. +</p> + +<p> +“Inside,” I heard John Silence cry, and the Colonel followed him +through the door, while I was just quick enough at their heels to hear him add, +“the smoke’s the worst part of it. There’s no fire yet, I +think.” +</p> + +<p> +And, true enough, there was no fire. The interior was thick with smoke, but it +speedily cleared and not a single bucket was used upon the floor or walls. The +air was stifling, the heat fearful. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s precious little to burn in here; it’s all +stone,” the Colonel exclaimed, coughing. But the doctor was pointing to +the wooden covers of the great cauldron in which the clothes were washed, and +we saw that these were smouldering and charred. And when we sprinkled half a +bucket of water on them the surrounding bricks hissed and fizzed and sent up +clouds of steam. Through the open door and windows this passed out with the +rest of the smoke, and we three stood there on the brick floor staring at the +spot and wondering, each in our own fashion, how in the name of natural law the +place could have caught fire or smoked at all. And each was silent—myself +from sheer incapacity and befuddlement, the Colonel from the quiet pluck that +faces all things yet speaks little, and John Silence from the intense mental +grappling with this latest manifestation of a profound problem that called for +concentration of thought rather than for any words. +</p> + +<p> +There was really nothing to say. The facts were indisputable. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge was the first to utter. +</p> + +<p> +“My sister,” he said briefly, and moved off. In the yard I heard +him sending the frightened servants about their business in an excellently +matter-of-fact voice, scolding some one roundly for making such a big fire and +letting the flues get over-heated, and paying no heed to the stammering reply +that no fire had been lit there for several days. Then he dispatched a groom on +horseback for the local doctor. +</p> + +<p> +Then Dr. Silence turned and looked at me. The absolute control he possessed, +not only over the outward expression of emotion by gesture, change of colour, +light in the eyes, and so forth, but also, as I well knew, over its very birth +in his heart, the masklike face of the dead he could assume at will, made it +extremely difficult to know at any given moment what was at work in his inner +consciousness. But now, when he turned and looked at me, there was no +sphinx-expression there, but rather the keen triumphant face of a man who had +solved a dangerous and complicated problem, and saw his way to a clean victory. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Now</i> do you guess?” he asked quietly, as though it were the +simplest matter in the world, and ignorance were impossible. +</p> + +<p> +I could only stare stupidly and remain silent. He glanced down at the charred +cauldron-lids, and traced a figure in the air with his finger. But I was too +excited, or too mortified, or still too dazed, perhaps, to see what it was he +outlined, or what it was he meant to convey. I could only go on staring and +shaking my puzzled head. +</p> + +<p> +“A fire-elemental,” he cried, “a fire-elemental of the most +powerful and malignant kind—” +</p> + +<p> +“A what?” thundered the voice of Colonel Wragge behind us, having +returned suddenly and overheard. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a fire-elemental,” repeated Dr. Silence more calmly, +but with a note of triumph in his voice he could not keep out, “and a +fire-elemental enraged.” +</p> + +<p> +The light began to dawn in my mind at last. But the Colonel—who had never +heard the term before, and was besides feeling considerably worked up for a +plain man with all this mystery he knew not how to grapple with—the +Colonel stood, with the most dumfoundered look ever seen on a human +countenance, and continued to roar, and stammer, and stare. +</p> + +<p> +“And why,” he began, savage with the desire to find something +visible he could fight—“why, in the name of all the +blazes—?” and then stopped as John Silence moved up and took his +arm. +</p> + +<p> +“There, my dear Colonel Wragge,” he said gently, “you touch +the heart of the whole thing. You ask ‘Why.’ That is precisely our +problem.” He held the soldier’s eyes firmly with his own. +“And that, too, I think, we shall soon know. Come and let us talk over a +plan of action—that room with the double doors, perhaps.” +</p> + +<p> +The word “action” calmed him a little, and he led the way, without +further speech, back into the house, and down the long stone passage to the +room where we had heard his stories on the night of our arrival. I understood +from the doctor’s glance that my presence would not make the interview +easier for our host, and I went upstairs to my own room—shaking. +</p> + +<p> +But in the solitude of my room the vivid memories of the last hour revived so +mercilessly that I began to feel I should never in my whole life lose the +dreadful picture of Miss Wragge running—that dreadful human climax after +all the non-human mystery in the wood—and I was not sorry when a servant +knocked at my door and said that Colonel Wragge would be glad if I would join +them in the little smoking-room. +</p> + +<p> +“I think it is better you should be present,” was all Colonel +Wragge said as I entered the room. I took the chair with my back to the window. +There was still an hour before lunch, though I imagine that the usual divisions +of the day hardly found a place in the thoughts of any one of us. +</p> + +<p> +The atmosphere of the room was what I might call electric. The Colonel was +positively bristling; he stood with his back to the fire, fingering an unlit +black cigar, his face flushed, his being obviously roused and ready for action. +He hated this mystery. It was poisonous to his nature, and he longed to meet +something face to face—something he could gauge and fight. Dr. Silence, I +noticed at once, was sitting before the map of the estate which was spread upon +a table. I knew by his expression the state of his mind. He was in the thick of +it all, knew it, delighted in it, and was working at high pressure. He +recognised my presence with a lifted eyelid, and the flash of the eye, +contrasted with his stillness and composure, told me volumes. +</p> + +<p> +“I was about to explain to our host briefly what seems to me afoot in all +this business,” he said without looking up, “when he asked that you +should join us so that we can all work together.” And, while signifying +my assent, I caught myself wondering what quality it was in the calm speech of +this undemonstrative man that was so full of power, so charged with the +strange, virile personality behind it and that seemed to inspire us with his +own confidence as by a process of radiation. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Hubbard,” he went on gravely, turning to the soldier, +“knows something of my methods, and in more than +one—er—interesting situation has proved of assistance. What we want +now”—and here he suddenly got up and took his place on the mat +beside the Colonel, and looked hard at him—“is men who have +self-control, who are sure of themselves, whose minds at the critical moment +will emit positive forces, instead of the wavering and uncertain currents due +to negative feelings—due, for instance, to fear.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at us each in turn. Colonel Wragge moved his feet farther apart, and +squared his shoulders; and I felt guilty but said nothing, conscious that my +latent store of courage was being deliberately hauled to the front. He was +winding me up like a clock. +</p> + +<p> +“So that, in what is yet to come,” continued our leader, +“each of us will contribute his share of power, and ensure success for my +plan.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not afraid of anything I can <i>see</i>,” said the +Colonel bluntly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m ready,” I heard myself say, as it were automatically, +“for anything,” and then added, feeling the declaration was lamely +insufficient, “and everything.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence left the mat and began walking to and fro about the room, both +hands plunged deep into the pockets of his shooting-jacket. Tremendous vitality +streamed from him. I never took my eyes off the small, moving figure; small +yes,—and yet somehow making me think of a giant plotting the destruction +of worlds. And his manner was gentle, as always, soothing almost, and his words +uttered quietly without emphasis or emotion. Most of what he said was +addressed, though not too obviously, to the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +“The violence of this sudden attack,” he said softly, pacing to and +fro beneath the bookcase at the end of the room, “is due, of course, +partly to the fact that tonight the moon is at the full”—here he +glanced at me for a moment—“and partly to the fact that we have all +been so deliberately concentrating upon the matter. Our thinking, our +investigation, has stirred it into unusual activity. I mean that the +intelligent force behind these manifestations has realised that some one is +busied about its destruction. And it is now on the defensive: more, it is +aggressive.” +</p> + +<p> +“But ‘it’—what is ‘it’?” began the +soldier, fuming. “What, in the name of all that’s dreadful, +<i>is</i> a fire-elemental?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot give you at this moment,” replied Dr. Silence, turning to +him, but undisturbed by the interruption, “a lecture on the nature and +history of magic, but can only say that an Elemental is the active force behind +the elements,—whether earth, air, water, <i>or fire</i>,—it is +impersonal in its essential nature, but can be focused, personified, ensouled, +so to say, by those who know how—by magicians, if you will—for +certain purposes of their own, much in the same way that steam and electricity +can be harnessed by the practical man of this century. +</p> + +<p> +“Alone, these blind elemental energies can accomplish little, but +governed and directed by the trained will of a powerful manipulator they may +become potent activities for good or evil. They are the basis of all magic, and +it is the motive behind them that constitutes the magic ‘black’ or +‘white’; they can be the vehicles of curses or of blessings, for a +curse is nothing more than the thought of a violent will perpetuated. And in +such cases—cases like this—the conscious, directing will of the +mind that is using the elemental stands always behind the +phenomena—” +</p> + +<p> +“You think that my brother—!” broke in the Colonel, aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“Has nothing whatever to do with it—directly. The fire-elemental +that has here been tormenting you and your household was sent upon its mission +long before you, or your family, or your ancestors, or even the nation you +belong to—unless I am much mistaken—was even in existence. We will +come to that a little later; after the experiment I propose to make we shall be +more positive. At present I can only say we have to deal now, not only with the +phenomenon of Attacking Fire merely, but with the vindictive and enraged +intelligence that is directing it from behind the scenes—vindictive and +enraged,”—he repeated the words. +</p> + +<p> +“That explains—” began Colonel Wragge, seeking furiously for +words he could not find quickly enough. +</p> + +<p> +“Much,” said John Silence, with a gesture to restrain him. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped a moment in the middle of his walk, and a deep silence came down +over the little room. Through the windows the sunlight seemed less bright, the +long line of dark hills less friendly, making me think of a vast wave towering +to heaven and about to break and overwhelm us. Something formidable had crept +into the world about us. For, undoubtedly, there was a disquieting thought, +holding terror as well as awe, in the picture his words conjured up: the +conception of a human will reaching its deathless hand, spiteful and +destructive, down through the ages, to strike the living and afflict the +innocent. +</p> + +<p> +“But what is its object?” burst out the soldier, unable to restrain +himself longer in the silence. “Why does it come from that plantation? +And why should it attack us, or any one in particular?” Questions began +to pour from him in a stream. +</p> + +<p> +“All in good time,” the doctor answered quietly, having let him run +on for several minutes. “But I must first discover positively what, or +who, it is that directs this particular fire-elemental. And, to do that, we +must first”—he spoke with slow deliberation—“seek to +capture—to confine by visibility—to limit its sphere in a concrete +form.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good heavens almighty!” exclaimed the soldier, mixing his words in +his unfeigned surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” pursued the other calmly; “for in so doing I +think we can release it from the purpose that binds it, restore it to its +normal condition of latent fire, and also”—he lowered his voice +perceptibly —“also discover the face and form of the Being that +ensouls it.” +</p> + +<p> +“The man behind the gun!” cried the Colonel, beginning to +understand something, and leaning forward so as not to miss a single syllable. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean that in the last resort, before it returns to the womb of +potential fire, it will probably assume the face and figure of its Director, of +the man of magical knowledge who originally bound it with his incantations and +sent it forth upon its mission of centuries.” +</p> + +<p> +The soldier sat down and gasped openly in his face, breathing hard; but it was +a very subdued voice that framed the question. +</p> + +<p> +“And how do you propose to make it visible? How capture and confine it? +What d’ye mean, Dr. John Silence?” +</p> + +<p> +“By furnishing it with the materials for a form. By the process of +materialisation simply. Once limited by dimensions, it will become slow, heavy, +visible. We can then dissipate it. Invisible fire, you see, is dangerous and +incalculable; locked up in a form we can perhaps manage it. We must betray +it—to its death.” +</p> + +<p> +“And this material?” we asked in the same breath, although I think +I had already guessed. +</p> + +<p> +“Not pleasant, but effective,” came the quiet reply; “the +exhalations of freshly spilled blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not human blood!” cried Colonel Wragge, starting up from his chair +with a voice like an explosion. I thought his eyes would start from their +sockets. +</p> + +<p> +The face of Dr. Silence relaxed in spite of himself, and his spontaneous little +laugh brought a welcome though momentary relief. +</p> + +<p> +“The days of human sacrifice, I hope, will never come again,” he +explained. “Animal blood will answer the purpose, and we can make the +experiment as pleasant as possible. Only, the blood must be freshly spilled and +strong with the vital emanations that attract this peculiar class of elemental +creature. Perhaps—perhaps if some pig on the estate is ready for the +market—” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to hide a smile; but the passing touch of comedy found no echo in the +mind of our host, who did not understand how to change quickly from one emotion +to another. Clearly he was debating many things laboriously in his honest +brain. But, in the end, the earnestness and scientific disinterestedness of the +doctor, whose influence over him was already very great, won the day, and he +presently looked up more calmly, and observed shortly that he thought perhaps +the matter could be arranged. +</p> + +<p> +“There are other and pleasanter methods,” Dr. Silence went on to +explain, “but they require time and preparation, and things have gone +much too far, in my opinion, to admit of delay. And the process need cause you +no distress: we sit round the bowl and await results. Nothing more. The +emanations of blood—which, as Levi says, is the first incarnation of the +universal fluid—furnish the materials out of which the creatures of +discarnate life, spirits if you prefer, can fashion themselves a temporary +appearance. The process is old, and lies at the root of all blood sacrifice. It +was known to the priests of Baal, and it is known to the modern ecstasy dancers +who cut themselves to produce objective phantoms who dance with them. And the +least gifted clairvoyant could tell you that the forms to be seen in the +vicinity of slaughter-houses, or hovering above the deserted battlefields, +are—well, simply beyond all description. I do not mean,” he added, +noticing the uneasy fidgeting of his host, “that anything in our +laundry-experiment need appear to terrify us, for this case seems a +comparatively simple one, and it is only the vindictive character of the +intelligence directing this fire-elemental that causes anxiety and makes for +personal danger.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is curious,” said the Colonel, with a sudden rush of words, +drawing a deep breath, and as though speaking of things distasteful to him, +“that during my years among the Hill Tribes of Northern India I came +across—personally came across—instances of the sacrifices of blood +to certain deities being stopped suddenly, and all manner of disasters +happening until they were resumed. Fires broke out in the huts, and even on the +clothes, of the natives—and—and I admit I have read, in the course +of my studies,”—he made a gesture toward his books and heavily +laden table,—“of the Yezidis of Syria evoking phantoms by means of +cutting their bodies with knives during their whirling dances—enormous +globes of fire which turned into monstrous and terrible forms—and I +remember an account somewhere, too, how the emaciated forms and pallid +countenances of the spectres, that appeared to the Emperor Julian, claimed to +be the true Immortals, and told him to renew the sacrifices of blood ‘for +the fumes of which, since the establishment of Christianity, they had been +pining’—that these were in reality the phantoms evoked by the rites +of blood.” +</p> + +<p> +Both Dr. Silence and myself listened in amazement, for this sudden speech was +so unexpected, and betrayed so much more knowledge than we had either of us +suspected in the old soldier. +</p> + +<p> +“Then perhaps you have read, too,” said the doctor, “how the +Cosmic Deities of savage races, elemental in their nature, have been kept alive +through many ages by these blood rites?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he answered; “that is new to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“In any case,” Dr. Silence added, “I am glad you are not +wholly unfamiliar with the subject, for you will now bring more sympathy, and +therefore more help, to our experiment. For, of course, in this case, we only +want the blood to tempt the creature from its lair and enclose it in a +form—” +</p> + +<p> +“I quite understand. And I only hesitated just now,” he went on, +his words coming much more slowly, as though he felt he had already said too +much, “because I wished to be quite sure it was no mere curiosity, but an +actual sense of necessity that dictated this horrible experiment.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is your safety, and that of your household, and of your sister, that +is at stake,” replied the doctor. “Once I have <i>seen</i>, I hope +to discover whence this elemental comes, and what its real purpose is.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge signified his assent with a bow. +</p> + +<p> +“And the moon will help us,” the other said, “for it will be +full in the early hours of the morning, and this kind of elemental-being is +always most active at the period of full moon. Hence, you see, the clue +furnished by your diary.” +</p> + +<p> +So it was finally settled. Colonel Wragge would provide the materials for the +experiment, and we were to meet at midnight. How he would contrive at that +hour—but that was his business. I only know we both realised that he +would keep his word, and whether a pig died at midnight, or at noon, was after +all perhaps only a question of the sleep and personal comfort of the +executioner. +</p> + +<p> +“Tonight, then, in the laundry,” said Dr. Silence finally, to +clinch the plan; “we three alone—and at midnight, when the +household is asleep and we shall be free from disturbance.” +</p> + +<p> +He exchanged significant glances with our host, who, at that moment, was called +away by the announcement that the family doctor had arrived, and was ready to +see him in his sister’s room. +</p> + +<p> +For the remainder of the afternoon John Silence disappeared. I had my +suspicions that he made a secret visit to the plantation and also to the +laundry building; but, in any case, we saw nothing of him, and he kept strictly +to himself. He was preparing for the night, I felt sure, but the nature of his +preparations I could only guess. There was movement in his room, I heard, and +an odour like incense hung about the door, and knowing that he regarded rites +as the vehicles of energies, my guesses were probably not far wrong. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge, too, remained absent the greater part of the afternoon, and, +deeply afflicted, had scarcely left his sister’s bedside, but in response +to my inquiry when we met for a moment at tea-time, he told me that although +she had moments of attempted speech, her talk was quite incoherent and +hysterical, and she was still quite unable to explain the nature of what she +had seen. The doctor, he said, feared she had recovered the use of her limbs, +only to lose that of her memory, and perhaps even of her mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Then the recovery of her legs, I trust, may be permanent, at any +rate,” I ventured, finding it difficult to know what sympathy to offer. +And he replied with a curious short laugh, “Oh yes; about that there can +be no doubt whatever.” +</p> + +<p> +And it was due merely to the chance of my overhearing a fragment of +conversation—unwillingly, of course—that a little further light was +thrown upon the state in which the old lady actually lay. For, as I came out of +my room, it happened that Colonel Wragge and the doctor were going downstairs +together, and their words floated up to my ears before I could make my presence +known by so much as a cough. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you must find a way,” the doctor was saying with decision; +“for I cannot insist too strongly upon that—and at all costs she +must be kept quiet. These attempts to go out must be prevented—if +necessary, by force. This desire to visit some wood or other she keeps talking +about is, of course, hysterical in nature. It cannot be permitted for a +moment.” +</p> + +<p> +“It shall not be permitted,” I heard the soldier reply, as they +reached the hall below. +</p> + +<p> +“It has impressed her mind for some reason—” the doctor went +on, by way evidently of soothing explanation, and then the distance made it +impossible for me to hear more. +</p> + +<p> +At dinner Dr. Silence was still absent, on the public plea of a headache, and +though food was sent to his room, I am inclined to believe he did not touch it, +but spent the entire time fasting. +</p> + +<p> +We retired early, desiring that the household should do likewise, and I must +confess that at ten o’clock when I bid my host a temporary good-night, +and sought my room to make what mental preparation I could, I realised in no +very pleasant fashion that it was a singular and formidable assignation, this +midnight meeting in the laundry building, and that there were moments in every +adventure of life when a wise man, and one who knew his own limitations, owed +it to his dignity to withdraw discreetly. And, but for the character of our +leader, I probably should have then and there offered the best excuse I could +think of, and have allowed myself quietly to fall asleep and wait for an +exciting story in the morning of what had happened. But with a man like John +Silence, such a lapse was out of the question, and I sat before my fire +counting the minutes and doing everything I could think of to fortify my +resolution and fasten my will at the point where I could be reasonably sure +that my self-control would hold against all attacks of men, devils, or +elementals. +</p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p> +At a quarter before midnight, clad in a heavy ulster, and with slippered feet, +I crept cautiously from my room and stole down the passage to the top of the +stairs. Outside the doctor’s door I waited a moment to listen. All was +still; the house in utter darkness; no gleam of light beneath any door; only, +down the length of the corridor, from the direction of the sick-room, came +faint sounds of laughter and incoherent talk that were not things to reassure a +mind already half a-tremble, and I made haste to reach the hall and let myself +out through the front door into the night. +</p> + +<p> +The air was keen and frosty, perfumed with night smells, and exquisitely fresh; +all the million candles of the sky were alight, and a faint breeze rose and +fell with far-away sighings in the tops of the pine trees. My blood leaped for +a moment in the spaciousness of the night, for the splendid stars brought +courage; but the next instant, as I turned the corner of the house, moving +stealthily down the gravel drive, my spirits sank again ominously. For, yonder, +over the funereal plumes of the Twelve Acre Plantation, I saw the broken, +yellow disc of the half-moon just rising in the east, staring down like some +vast Being come to watch upon the progress of our doom. Seen through the +distorting vapours of the earth’s atmosphere, her face looked weirdly +unfamiliar, her usual expression of benignant vacancy somehow a-twist. I +slipped along by the shadows of the wall, keeping my eyes upon the ground. +</p> + +<p> +The laundry-house, as already described, stood detached from the other offices, +with laurel shrubberies crowding thickly behind it, and the kitchen-garden so +close on the other side that the strong smells of soil and growing things came +across almost heavily. The shadows of the haunted plantation, hugely lengthened +by the rising moon behind them, reached to the very walls and covered the stone +tiles of the roof with a dark pall. So keenly were my senses alert at this +moment that I believe I could fill a chapter with the endless small details of +the impression I received—shadows, odour, shapes, sounds—in the +space of the few seconds I stood and waited before the closed wooden door. +</p> + +<p> +Then I became aware of some one moving towards me through the moonlight, and +the figure of John Silence, without overcoat and bareheaded, came quickly and +without noise to join me. His eyes, I saw at once, were wonderfully bright, and +so marked was the shining pallor of his face that I could hardly tell when he +passed from the moonlight into the shade. +</p> + +<p> +He passed without a word, beckoning me to follow, and then pushed the door +open, and went in. +</p> + +<p> +The chill air of the place met us like that of an underground vault; and the +brick floor and whitewashed walls, streaked with damp and smoke, threw back the +cold in our faces. Directly opposite gaped the black throat of the huge open +fireplace, the ashes of wood fires still piled and scattered about the hearth, +and on either side of the projecting chimney-column were the deep recesses +holding the big twin cauldrons for boiling clothes. Upon the lids of these +cauldrons stood the two little oil lamps, shaded red, which gave all the light +there was, and immediately in front of the fireplace there was a small circular +table with three chairs set about it. Overhead, the narrow slit windows, high +up the walls, pointed to a dim network of wooden rafters half lost among the +shadows, and then came the dark vault of the roof. Cheerless and unalluring, +for all the red light, it certainly was, reminding me of some unused +conventicle, bare of pews or pulpit, ugly and severe, and I was forcibly struck +by the contrast between the normal uses to which the place was ordinarily put, +and the strange and medieval purpose which had brought us under its roof +tonight. +</p> + +<p> +Possibly an involuntary shudder ran over me, for my companion turned with a +confident look to reassure me, and he was so completely master of himself that +I at once absorbed from his abundance, and felt the chinks of my failing +courage beginning to close up. To meet his eye in the presence of danger was +like finding a mental railing that guided and supported thought along the giddy +edges of alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“I am quite ready,” I whispered, turning to listen for approaching +footsteps. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded, still keeping his eyes on mine. Our whispers sounded hollow as they +echoed overhead among the rafters. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad you are here,” he said. “Not all would have +the courage. Keep your thoughts controlled, and imagine the protective shell +round you—round your inner being.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m all right,” I repeated, cursing my chattering teeth. +</p> + +<p> +He took my hand and shook it, and the contact seemed to shake into me something +of his supreme confidence. The eyes and hands of a strong man can touch the +soul. I think he guessed my thought, for a passing smile flashed about the +corners of his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“You will feel more comfortable,” he said, in a low tone, +“when the chain is complete. The Colonel we can count on, of course. +Remember, though,” he added warningly, “he may perhaps become +controlled—possessed—when the thing comes, because he won’t +know how to resist. And to explain the business to such a man—!” He +shrugged his shoulders expressively. “But it will only be temporary, and +I will see that no harm comes to him.” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced round at the arrangements with approval. +</p> + +<p> +“Red light,” he said, indicating the shaded lamps, “has the +lowest rate of vibration. Materialisations are dissipated by strong +light—won’t form, or hold together—in rapid +vibrations.” +</p> + +<p> +I was not sure that I approved altogether of this dim light, for in complete +darkness there is something protective—the knowledge that one cannot be +seen, probably—which a half-light destroys, but I remembered the warning +to keep my thoughts steady, and forbore to give them expression. +</p> + +<p> +There was a step outside, and the figure of Colonel Wragge stood in the +doorway. Though entering on tiptoe, he made considerable noise and clatter, for +his free movements were impeded by the burden he carried, and we saw a large +yellowish bowl held out at arms’ length from his body, the mouth covered +with a white cloth. His face, I noted, was rigidly composed. He, too, was +master of himself. And, as I thought of this old soldier moving through the +long series of alarms, worn with watching and wearied with assault, +unenlightened yet undismayed, even down to the dreadful shock of his +sister’s terror, and still showing the dogged pluck that persists in the +face of defeat, I understood what Dr. Silence meant when he described him as a +man “to be counted on.” +</p> + +<p> +I think there was nothing beyond this rigidity of his stern features, and a +certain greyness of the complexion, to betray the turmoil of the emotions that +were doubtless going on within; and the quality of these two men, each in his +own way, so keyed me up that, by the time the door was shut and we had +exchanged silent greetings, all the latent courage I possessed was well to the +fore, and I felt as sure of myself as I knew I ever could feel. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge set the bowl carefully in the centre of the table. +</p> + +<p> +“Midnight,” he said shortly, glancing at his watch, and we all +three moved to our chairs. +</p> + +<p> +There, in the middle of that cold and silent place, we sat, with the vile bowl +before us, and a thin, hardly perceptible steam rising through the damp air +from the surface of the white cloth and disappearing upwards the moment it +passed beyond the zone of red light and entered the deep shadows thrown forward +by the projecting wall of chimney. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor had indicated our respective places, and I found myself seated with +my back to the door and opposite the black hearth. The Colonel was on my left, +and Dr. Silence on my right, both half facing me, the latter more in shadow +than the former. We thus divided the little table into even sections, and +sitting back in our chairs we awaited events in silence. +</p> + +<p> +For something like an hour I do not think there was even the faintest sound +within those four walls and under the canopy of that vaulted roof. Our slippers +made no scratching on the gritty floor, and our breathing was suppressed almost +to nothing; even the rustle of our clothes as we shifted from time to time upon +our seats was inaudible. Silence smothered us absolutely—the silence of +night, of listening, the silence of a haunted expectancy. The very gurgling of +the lamps was too soft to be heard, and if light itself had sound, I do not +think we should have noticed the silvery tread of the moonlight as it entered +the high narrow windows and threw upon the floor the slender traces of its +pallid footsteps. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge and the doctor, and myself too for that matter, sat thus like +figures of stone, without speech and without gesture. My eyes passed in +ceaseless journeys from the bowl to their faces, and from their faces to the +bowl. They might have been masks, however, for all the signs of life they gave; +and the light steaming from the horrid contents beneath the white cloth had +long ceased to be visible. +</p> + +<p> +Then presently, as the moon rose higher, the wind rose with it. It sighed, like +the lightest of passing wings, over the roof; it crept most softly round the +walls; it made the brick floor like ice beneath our feet. With it I saw +mentally the desolate moorland flowing like a sea about the old house, the +treeless expanse of lonely hills, the nearer copses, sombre and mysterious in +the night. The plantation, too, in particular I saw, and imagined I heard the +mournful whisperings that must now be a-stirring among its tree-tops as the +breeze played down between the twisted stems. In the depth of the room behind +us the shafts of moonlight met and crossed in a growing network. +</p> + +<p> +It was after an hour of this wearing and unbroken attention, and I should judge +about one o’clock in the morning, when the baying of the dogs in the +stableyard first began, and I saw John Silence move suddenly in his chair and +sit up in an attitude of attention. Every force in my being instantly leaped +into the keenest vigilance. Colonel Wragge moved too, though slowly, and +without raising his eyes from the table before him. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor stretched his arm out and took the white cloth from the bowl. +</p> + +<p> +It was perhaps imagination that persuaded me the red glare of the lamps grew +fainter and the air over the table before us thickened. I had been expecting +something for so long that the movement of my companions, and the lifting of +the cloth, may easily have caused the momentary delusion that something hovered +in the air before my face, touching the skin of my cheeks with a silken run. +But it was certainly not a delusion that the Colonel looked up at the same +moment and glanced over his shoulder, as though his eyes followed the movements +of something to and fro about the room, and that he then buttoned his overcoat +more tightly about him and his eyes sought my own face first, and then the +doctor’s. And it was no delusion that his face seemed somehow to have +turned dark, become spread as it were with a shadowy blackness. I saw his lips +tighten and his expression grow hard and stern, and it came to me then with a +rush that, of course, this man had told us but a part of the experiences he had +been through in the house, and that there was much more he had never been able +to bring himself to reveal at all. I felt sure of it. The way he turned and +stared about him betrayed a familiarity with other things than those he had +described to us. It was not merely a sight of fire he looked for; it was a +sight of something alive, intelligent, something able to evade his searching; +it was <i>a person</i>. It was the watch for the ancient Being who sought to +obsess him. +</p> + +<p> +And the way in which Dr. Silence answered his look—though it was only by +a glance of subtlest sympathy—confirmed my impression. +</p> + +<p> +“We may be ready now,” I heard him say in a whisper, and I +understood that his words were intended as a steadying warning, and braced +myself mentally to the utmost of my power. +</p> + +<p> +Yet long before Colonel Wragge had turned to stare about the room, and long +before the doctor had confirmed my impression that things were at last +beginning to stir, I had become aware in most singular fashion that the place +held more than our three selves. With the rising of the wind this increase to +our numbers had first taken place. The baying of the hounds almost seemed to +have signalled it. I cannot say how it may be possible to realise that an empty +place has suddenly become—not empty, when the new arrival is nothing that +appeals to any one of the senses; for this recognition of an +“invisible,” as of the change in the balance of personal forces in +a human group, is indefinable and beyond proof. Yet it is unmistakable. And I +knew perfectly well at what given moment the atmosphere within these four walls +became charged with the presence of other living beings besides ourselves. And, +on reflection, I am convinced that both my companions knew it too. +</p> + +<p> +“Watch the light,” said the doctor under his breath, and then I +knew too that it was no fancy of my own that had turned the air darker, and the +way he turned to examine the face of our host sent an electric thrill of wonder +and expectancy shivering along every nerve in my body. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was no kind of terror that I experienced, but rather a sort of mental +dizziness, and a sensation as of being suspended in some remote and dreadful +altitude where things might happen, indeed were about to happen, that had never +before happened within the ken of man. Horror may have formed an ingredient, +but it was not chiefly horror, and in no sense ghostly horror. +</p> + +<p> +Uncommon thoughts kept beating on my brain like tiny hammers, soft yet +persistent, seeking admission; their unbidden tide began to wash along the far +fringes of my mind, the currents of unwonted sensations to rise over the remote +frontiers of my consciousness. I was aware of thoughts, and the fantasies of +thoughts, that I never knew before existed. Portions of my being stirred that +had never stirred before, and things ancient and inexplicable rose to the +surface and beckoned me to follow. I felt as though I were about to fly off, at +some immense tangent, into an outer space hitherto unknown even in dreams. And +so singular was the result produced upon me that I was uncommonly glad to +anchor my mind, as well as my eyes, upon the masterful personality of the +doctor at my side, for there, I realised, I could draw always upon the forces +of sanity and safety. +</p> + +<p> +With a vigorous effort of will I returned to the scene before me, and tried to +focus my attention, with steadier thoughts, upon the table, and upon the silent +figures seated round it. And then I saw that certain changes had come about in +the place where we sat. +</p> + +<p> +The patches of moonlight on the floor, I noted, had become curiously shaded; +the faces of my companions opposite were not so clearly visible as before; and +the forehead and cheeks of Colonel Wragge were glistening with perspiration. I +realised further, that an extraordinary change had come about in the +temperature of the atmosphere. The increased warmth had a painful effect, not +alone on Colonel Wragge, but upon all of us. It was oppressive and unnatural. +We gasped figuratively as well as actually. +</p> + +<p> +“You are the first to feel it,” said Dr. Silence in low tones, +looking across at him. “You are in more intimate touch, of +course—” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel was trembling, and appeared to be in considerable distress. His +knees shook, so that the shuffling of his slippered feet became audible. He +inclined his head to show that he had heard, but made no other reply. I think, +even then, he was sore put to it to keep himself in hand. I knew what he was +struggling against. As Dr. Silence had warned me, he was about to be obsessed, +and was savagely, though vainly, resisting. +</p> + +<p> +But, meanwhile, a curious and whirling sense of exhilaration began to come over +me. The increasing heat was delightful, bringing a sensation of intense +activity, of thoughts pouring through the mind at high speed, of vivid pictures +in the brain, of fierce desires and lightning energies alive in every part of +the body. I was conscious of no physical distress, such as the Colonel felt, +but only of a vague feeling that it might all grow suddenly too +intense—that I might be consumed—that my personality as well as my +body, might become resolved into the flame of pure spirit. I began to live at a +speed too intense to last. It was as if a thousand ecstasies besieged me— +</p> + +<p> +“Steady!” whispered the voice of John Silence in my ear, and I +looked up with a start to see that the Colonel had risen from his chair. The +doctor rose too. I followed suit, and for the first time saw down into the +bowl. To my amazement and horror I saw that the contents were troubled. The +blood was astir with movement. +</p> + +<p> +The rest of the experiment was witnessed by us standing. It came, too, with a +curious suddenness. There was no more dreaming, for me at any rate. +</p> + +<p> +I shall never forget the figure of Colonel Wragge standing there beside me, +upright and unshaken, squarely planted on his feet, looking about him, puzzled +beyond belief, yet full of a fighting anger. Framed by the white walls, the red +glow of the lamps upon his streaming cheeks, his eyes glowing against the +deathly pallor of his skin, breathing hard and making convulsive efforts of +hands and body to keep himself under control, his whole being roused to the +point of savage fighting, yet with nothing visible to get at anywhere—he +stood there, immovable against odds. And the strange contrast of the pale skin +and the burning face I had never seen before, or wish to see again. +</p> + +<p> +But what has left an even sharper impression on my memory was the blackness +that then began crawling over his face, obliterating the features, concealing +their human outline, and hiding him inch by inch from view. This was my first +realisation that the process of materialisation was at work. His visage became +shrouded. I moved from one side to the other to keep him in view, and it was +only then I understood that, properly speaking, the blackness was not upon the +countenance of Colonel Wragge, but that something had inserted itself between +me and him, thus screening his face with the effect of a dark veil. Something +that apparently rose through the floor was passing slowly into the air above +the table and above the bowl. The blood in the bowl, moreover, was considerably +less than before. +</p> + +<p> +And, with this change in the air before us, there came at the same time a +further change, I thought, in the face of the soldier. One-half was turned +towards the red lamps, while the other caught the pale illumination of the +moonlight falling aslant from the high windows, so that it was difficult to +estimate this change with accuracy of detail. But it seemed to me that, while +the features—eyes, nose, mouth—remained the same, the life +informing them had undergone some profound transformation. The signature of a +new power had crept into the face and left its traces there—an expression +dark, and in some unexplained way, terrible. +</p> + +<p> +Then suddenly he opened his mouth and spoke, and the sound of this changed +voice, deep and musical though it was, made me cold and set my heart beating +with uncomfortable rapidity. The Being, as he had dreaded, was already in +control of his brain, using his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“I see a blackness like the blackness of Egypt before my face,” +said the tones of this unknown voice that seemed half his own and half +another’s. “And out of this darkness they come, they come.” +</p> + +<p> +I gave a dreadful start. The doctor turned to look at me for an instant, and +then turned to centre his attention upon the figure of our host, and I +understood in some intuitive fashion that he was there to watch over the +strangest contest man ever saw—to watch over and, if necessary, to +protect. +</p> + +<p> +“He is being controlled—possessed,” he whispered to me +through the shadows. His face wore a wonderful expression, half triumph, half +admiration. +</p> + +<p> +Even as Colonel Wragge spoke, it seemed to me that this visible darkness began +to increase, pouring up thickly out of the ground by the hearth, rising up in +sheets and veils, shrouding our eyes and faces. It stole up from below—an +awful blackness that seemed to drink in all the radiations of light in the +building, leaving nothing but the ghost of a radiance in their place. Then, out +of this rising sea of shadows, issued a pale and spectral light that gradually +spread itself about us, and from the heart of this light I saw the shapes of +fire crowd and gather. And these were not human shapes, or the shapes of +anything I recognised as alive in the world, but outlines of fire that traced +globes, triangles, crosses, and the luminous bodies of various geometrical +figures. They grew bright, faded, and then grew bright again with an effect +almost of pulsation. They passed swiftly to and fro through the air, rising and +falling, and particularly in the immediate neighbourhood of the Colonel, often +gathering about his head and shoulders, and even appearing to settle upon him +like giant insects of flame. They were accompanied, moreover, by a faint sound +of hissing—the same sound we had heard that afternoon in the plantation. +</p> + +<p> +“The fire-elementals that precede their master,” the doctor said in +an undertone. “Be ready.” +</p> + +<p> +And while this weird display of the shapes of fire alternately flashed and +faded, and the hissing echoed faintly among the dim rafters overhead, we heard +the awful voice issue at intervals from the lips of the afflicted soldier. It +was a voice of power, splendid in some way I cannot describe, and with a +certain sense of majesty in its cadences, and, as I listened to it with quickly +beating heart, I could fancy it was some ancient voice of Time itself, echoing +down immense corridors of stone, from the depths of vast temples, from the very +heart of mountain tombs. +</p> + +<p> +“I have seen my divine Father, Osiris,” thundered the great tones. +“I have scattered the gloom of the night. I have burst through the earth, +and am one with the starry Deities!” +</p> + +<p> +Something grand came into the soldier’s face. He was staring fixedly +before him, as though seeing nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Watch,” whispered Dr. Silence in my ear, and his whisper seemed to +come from very far away. +</p> + +<p> +Again the mouth opened and the awesome voice issued forth. +</p> + +<p> +“Thoth,” it boomed, “has loosened the bandages of Set which +fettered my mouth. I have taken my place in the great winds of heaven.” +</p> + +<p> +I heard the little wind of night, with its mournful voice of ages, sighing +round the walls and over the roof. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen!” came from the doctor at my side, and the thunder of the +voice continued— +</p> + +<p> +“I have hidden myself with you, O ye stars that never diminish. I +remember my name—in—the—House—of—Fire!” +</p> + +<p> +The voice ceased and the sound died away. Something about the face and figure +of Colonel Wragge relaxed, I thought. The terrible look passed from his face. +The Being that obsessed him was gone. +</p> + +<p> +“The great Ritual,” said Dr. Silence aside to me, very low, +“the Book of the Dead. Now it’s leaving him. Soon the blood will +fashion it a body.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge, who had stood absolutely motionless all this time, suddenly +swayed, so that I thought he was going to fall,—and, but for the quick +support of the doctor’s arm, he probably would have fallen, for he +staggered as in the beginning of collapse. +</p> + +<p> +“I am drunk with the wine of Osiris,” he cried,—and it was +half with his own voice this time—“but Horus, the Eternal Watcher, +is about my path—for—safety.” The voice dwindled and failed, +dying away into something almost like a cry of distress. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, watch closely,” said Dr. Silence, speaking loud, “for +after the cry will come the Fire!” +</p> + +<p> +I began to tremble involuntarily; an awful change had come without warning into +the air; my legs grew weak as paper beneath my weight and I had to support +myself by leaning on the table. Colonel Wragge, I saw, was also leaning forward +with a kind of droop. The shapes of fire had vanished all, but his face was lit +by the red lamps and the pale, shifting moonlight rose behind him like mist. +</p> + +<p> +We were both gazing at the bowl, now almost empty; the Colonel stooped so low I +feared every minute he would lose his balance and drop into it; and the shadow, +that had so long been in process of forming, now at length began to assume +material outline in the air before us. +</p> + +<p> +Then John Silence moved forward quickly. He took his place between us and the +shadow. Erect, formidable, absolute master of the situation, I saw him stand +there, his face calm and almost smiling, and fire in his eyes. His protective +influence was astounding and incalculable. Even the abhorrent dread I felt at +the sight of the creature growing into life and substance before us, lessened +in some way so that I was able to keep my eyes fixed on the air above the bowl +without too vivid a terror. +</p> + +<p> +But as it took shape, rising out of nothing as it were, and growing momentarily +more defined in outline, a period of utter and wonderful silence settled down +upon the building and all it contained. A hush of ages, like the sudden centre +of peace at the heart of the travelling cyclone, descended through the night, +and out of this hush, as out of the emanations of the steaming blood, issued +the form of the ancient being who had first sent the elemental of fire upon its +mission. It grew and darkened and solidified before our eyes. It rose from just +beyond the table so that the lower portions remained invisible, but I saw the +outline limn itself upon the air, as though slowly revealed by the rising of a +curtain. It apparently had not then quite concentrated to the normal +proportions, but was spread out on all sides into space, huge, though rapidly +condensing, for I saw the colossal shoulders, the neck, the lower portion of +the dark jaws, the terrible mouth, and then the teeth and lips—and, as +the veil seemed to lift further upon the tremendous face—I saw the nose +and cheek bones. In another moment I should have looked straight into the +eyes— +</p> + +<p> +But what Dr. Silence did at that moment was so unexpected, and took me so by +surprise, that I have never yet properly understood its nature, and he has +never yet seen fit to explain in detail to me. He uttered some sound that had a +note of command in it—and, in so doing, stepped forward and intervened +between me and the face. The figure, just nearing completeness, he therefore +hid from my sight—and I have always thought purposely hid from my sight. +</p> + +<p> +“The fire!” he cried out. “The fire! Beware!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a sudden roar as of flame from the very mouth of the pit, and for the +space of a single second all grew light as day. A blinding flash passed across +my face, and there was heat for an instant that seemed to shrivel skin, and +flesh, and bone. Then came steps, and I heard Colonel Wragge utter a great cry, +wilder than any human cry I have ever known. The heat sucked all the breath out +of my lungs with a rush, and the blaze of light, as it vanished, swept my +vision with it into enveloping darkness. +</p> + +<p> +When I recovered the use of my senses a few moments later I saw that Colonel +Wragge with a face of death, its whiteness strangely stained, had moved closer +to me. Dr. Silence stood beside him, an expression of triumph and success in +his eyes. The next minute the soldier tried to clutch me with his hand. Then he +reeled, staggered, and, unable to save himself, fell with a great crash upon +the brick floor. +</p> + +<p> +After the sheet of flame, a wind raged round the building as though it would +lift the roof off, but then passed as suddenly as it came. And in the intense +calm that followed I saw that the form had vanished, and the doctor was +stooping over Colonel Wragge upon the floor, trying to lift him to a sitting +position. +</p> + +<p> +“Light,” he said quietly, “more light. Take the shades +off.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge sat up and the glare of the unshaded lamps fell upon his face. +It was grey and drawn, still running heat, and there was a look in the eyes and +about the corners of the mouth that seemed in this short space of time to have +added years to its age. At the same time, the expression of effort and anxiety +had left it. It showed relief. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone!” he said, looking up at the doctor in a dazed fashion, and +struggling to his feet. “Thank God! it’s gone at last.” He +stared round the laundry as though to find out where he was. “Did it +control me—take possession of me? Did I talk nonsense?” he asked +bluntly. “After the heat came, I remember nothing—” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll feel yourself again in a few minutes,” the doctor +said. To my infinite horror I saw that he was surreptitiously wiping sundry +dark stains from the face. “Our experiment has been a success +and—” +</p> + +<p> +He gave me a swift glance to hide the bowl, standing between me and our host +while I hurriedly stuffed it down under the lid of the nearest cauldron. +</p> + +<p> +“—and none of us the worse for it,” he finished. +</p> + +<p> +“And fires?” he asked, still dazed, “there’ll be no +more fires?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is dissipated—partly, at any rate,” replied Dr. Silence +cautiously. +</p> + +<p> +“And the man behind the gun,” he went on, only half realising what +he was saying, I think; “have you discovered <i>that?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“A form materialised,” said the doctor briefly. “I know for +certain now what the directing intelligence was behind it all.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge pulled himself together and got upon his feet. The words +conveyed no clear meaning to him yet. But his memory was returning gradually, +and he was trying to piece together the fragments into a connected whole. He +shivered a little, for the place had grown suddenly chilly. The air was empty +again, lifeless. +</p> + +<p> +“You feel all right again now,” Dr. Silence said, in the tone of a +man stating a fact rather than asking a question. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks to you—both, yes.” He drew a deep breath, and mopped +his face, and even attempted a smile. He made me think of a man coming from the +battlefield with the stains of fighting still upon him, but scornful of his +wounds. Then he turned gravely towards the doctor with a question in his eyes. +Memory had returned and he was himself again. +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely what I expected,” the doctor said calmly; “a +fire-elemental sent upon its mission in the days of Thebes, centuries before +Christ, and tonight, for the first time all these thousands of years, released +from the spell that originally bound it.” +</p> + +<p> +We stared at him in amazement, Colonel Wragge opening his lips for words that +refused to shape themselves. +</p> + +<p> +“And, if we dig,” he continued significantly, pointing to the floor +where the blackness had poured up, “we shall find some underground +connection—a tunnel most likely—leading to the Twelve Acre Wood. It +was made by—your predecessor.” +</p> + +<p> +“A tunnel made by my brother!” gasped the soldier. “Then my +sister should know—she lived here with him—” He stopped +suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +John Silence inclined his head slowly. “I think so,” he said +quietly. “Your brother, no doubt, was as much tormented as you have +been,” he continued after a pause in which Colonel Wragge seemed deeply +preoccupied with his thoughts, “and tried to find peace by burying it in +the wood, and surrounding the wood then, like a large magic circle, with the +enchantments of the old formulae. So the stars the man saw +blazing—” +</p> + +<p> +“But burying what?” asked the soldier faintly, stepping backwards +towards the support of the wall. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence regarded us both intently for a moment before he replied. I think +he weighed in his mind whether to tell us now, or when the investigation was +absolutely complete. +</p> + +<p> +“The mummy,” he said softly, after a moment; “the mummy that +your brother took from its resting place of centuries, and brought +home—here.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge dropped down upon the nearest chair, hanging breathlessly on +every word. He was far too amazed for speech. +</p> + +<p> +“The mummy of some important person—a priest most +likely—protected from disturbance and desecration by the ceremonial magic +of the time. For they understood how to attach to the mummy, to lock up with it +in the tomb, an elemental force that would direct itself even after ages upon +any one who dared to molest it. In this case it was an elemental of +fire.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence crossed the floor and turned out the lamps one by one. He had +nothing more to say for the moment. Following his example, I folded the table +together and took up the chairs, and our host, still dazed and silent, +mechanically obeyed him and moved to the door. +</p> + +<p> +We removed all traces of the experiment, taking the empty bowl back to the +house concealed beneath an ulster. +</p> + +<p> +The air was cool and fragrant as we walked to the house, the stars beginning to +fade overhead and a fresh wind of early morning blowing up out of the east +where the sky was already hinting of the coming day. It was after five +o’clock. +</p> + +<p> +Stealthily we entered the front hall and locked the door, and as we went on +tiptoe upstairs to our rooms, the Colonel, peering at us over his candle as he +nodded good-night, whispered that if we were ready the digging should be begun +that very day. +</p> + +<p> +Then I saw him steal along to his sister’s room and disappear. +</p> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p> +But not even the mysterious references to the mummy, or the prospect of a +revelation by digging, were able to hinder the reaction that followed the +intense excitement of the past twelve hours, and I slept the sleep of the dead, +dreamless and undisturbed. A touch on the shoulder woke me, and I saw Dr. +Silence standing beside the bed, dressed to go out. +</p> + +<p> +“Come,” he said, “it’s tea-time. You’ve slept the +best part of a dozen hours.” +</p> + +<p> +I sprang up and made a hurried toilet, while my companion sat and talked. He +looked fresh and rested, and his manner was even quieter than usual. +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Wragge has provided spades and pickaxes. We’re going out +to unearth this mummy at once,” he said; “and there’s no +reason we should not get away by the morning train.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m ready to go tonight, if you are,” I said honestly. +</p> + +<p> +But Dr. Silence shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I must see this through to the end,” he said gravely, and in a +tone that made me think he still anticipated serious things, perhaps. He went +on talking while I dressed. +</p> + +<p> +“This case is really typical of all stories of mummy-haunting, and none +of them are cases to trifle with,” he explained, “for the mummies +of important people—kings, priests, magicians—were laid away with +profoundly significant ceremonial, and were very effectively protected, as you +have seen, against desecration, and especially against destruction. +</p> + +<p> +“The general belief,” he went on, anticipating my questions, +“held, of course, that the perpetuity of the mummy guaranteed that of its +Ka,—the owner’s spirit,—but it is not improbable that the +magical embalming was also used to retard reincarnation, the preservation of +the body preventing the return of the spirit to the toil and discipline of +earth-life; and, in any case, they knew how to attach powerful guardian-forces +to keep off trespassers. And any one who dared to remove the mummy, or +especially to unwind it—well,” he added, with meaning, “you +have seen—and you will see.” +</p> + +<p> +I caught his face in the mirror while I struggled with my collar. It was deeply +serious. There could be no question that he spoke of what he believed and knew. +</p> + +<p> +“The traveller-brother who brought it here must have been haunted +too,” he continued, “for he tried to banish it by burial in the +wood, making a magic circle to enclose it. Something of genuine ceremonial he +must have known, for the stars the man saw were of course the remains of the +still flaming pentagrams he traced at intervals in the circle. Only he did not +know enough, or possibly was ignorant that the mummy’s guardian was a +fire-force. Fire cannot be enclosed by fire, though, as you saw, it can be +released by it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then that awful figure in the laundry?” I asked, thrilled to find +him so communicative. +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly the actual Ka of the mummy operating always behind its +agent, the elemental, and most likely thousands of years old.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Miss Wragge—?” I ventured once more. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Miss Wragge,” he repeated with increased gravity, “Miss +Wragge—” +</p> + +<p> +A knock at the door brought a servant with word that tea was ready, and the +Colonel had sent to ask if we were coming down. The thread was broken. Dr. +Silence moved to the door and signed to me to follow. But his manner told me +that in any case no real answer would have been forthcoming to my question. +</p> + +<p> +“And the place to dig in,” I asked, unable to restrain my +curiosity, “will you find it by some process of divination +or—?” +</p> + +<p> +He paused at the door and looked back at me, and with that he left me to finish +my dressing. +</p> + +<p> +It was growing dark when the three of us silently made our way to the Twelve +Acre Plantation; the sky was overcast, and a black wind came out of the east. +Gloom hung about the old house and the air seemed full of sighings. We found +the tools ready laid at the edge of the wood, and each shouldering his piece, +we followed our leader at once in among the trees. He went straight forward for +some twenty yards and then stopped. At his feet lay the blackened circle of one +of the burned places. It was just discernible against the surrounding white +grass. +</p> + +<p> +“There are three of these,” he said, “and they all lie in a +line with one another. Any one of them will tap the tunnel that connects the +laundry—the former Museum—with the chamber where the mummy now lies +buried.” +</p> + +<p> +He at once cleared away the burnt grass and began to dig; we all began to dig. +While I used the pick, the others shovelled vigorously. No one spoke. Colonel +Wragge worked the hardest of the three. The soil was light and sandy, and there +were only a few snake-like roots and occasional loose stones to delay us. The +pick made short work of these. And meanwhile the darkness settled about us and +the biting wind swept roaring through the trees overhead. +</p> + +<p> +Then, quite suddenly, without a cry, Colonel Wragge disappeared up to his neck. +</p> + +<p> +“The tunnel!” cried the doctor, helping to drag him out, red, +breathless, and covered with sand and perspiration. “Now, let me lead the +way.” And he slipped down nimbly into the hole, so that a moment later we +heard his voice, muffled by sand and distance, rising up to us. +</p> + +<p> +“Hubbard, you come next, and then Colonel Wragge—if he +wishes,” we heard. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll follow you, of course,” he said, looking at me as I +scrambled in. +</p> + +<p> +The hole was bigger now, and I got down on all-fours in a channel not much +bigger than a large sewer-pipe and found myself in total darkness. A minute +later a heavy thud, followed by a cataract of loose sand, announced the arrival +of the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +“Catch hold of my heel,” called Dr. Silence, “and Colonel +Wragge can take yours.” +</p> + +<p> +In this slow, laborious fashion we wormed our way along a tunnel that had been +roughly dug out of the shifting sand, and was shored up clumsily by means of +wooden pillars and posts. Any moment, it seemed to me, we might be buried +alive. We could not see an inch before our eyes, but had to grope our way +feeling the pillars and the walls. It was difficult to breathe, and the Colonel +behind me made but slow progress, for the cramped position of our bodies was +very severe. +</p> + +<p> +We had travelled in this way for ten minutes, and gone perhaps as much as ten +yards, when I lost my grasp of the doctor’s heel. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” I heard his voice, sounding above me somewhere. He was +standing up in a clear space, and the next moment I was standing beside him. +Colonel Wragge came heavily after, and he too rose up and stood. Then Dr. +Silence produced his candles and we heard preparations for striking matches. +</p> + +<p> +Yet even before there was light, an indefinable sensation of awe came over us +all. In this hole in the sand, some three feet under ground, we stood side by +side, cramped and huddled, struck suddenly with an over whelming apprehension +of something ancient, something formidable, something incalculably wonderful, +that touched in each one of us a sense of the sublime and the terrible even +before we could see an inch before our faces. I know not how to express in +language this singular emotion that caught us here in utter darkness, touching +no sense directly, it seemed, yet with the recognition that before us in the +blackness of this underground night there lay something that was mighty with +the mightiness of long past ages. +</p> + +<p> +I felt Colonel Wragge press in closely to my side, and I understood the +pressure and welcomed it. No human touch, to me at least, has ever been more +eloquent. +</p> + +<p> +Then the match flared, a thousand shadows fled on black wings, and I saw John +Silence fumbling with the candle, his face lit up grotesquely by the flickering +light below it. +</p> + +<p> +I had dreaded this light, yet when it came there was apparently nothing to +explain the profound sensations of dread that preceded it. We stood in a small +vaulted chamber in the sand, the sides and roof shored with bars of wood, and +the ground laid roughly with what seemed to be tiles. It was six feet high, so +that we could all stand comfortably, and may have been ten feet long by eight +feet wide. Upon the wooden pillars at the side I saw that Egyptian +hieroglyphics had been rudely traced by burning. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence lit three candles and handed one to each of us. He placed a fourth +in the sand against the wall on his right, and another to mark the entrance to +the tunnel. We stood and stared about us, instinctively holding our breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Empty, by God!” exclaimed Colonel Wragge. His voice trembled with +excitement. And then, as his eyes rested on the ground, he added, “And +footsteps—look—footsteps in the sand!” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Silence said nothing. He stooped down and began to make a search of the +chamber, and as he moved, my eyes followed his crouching figure and noted the +queer distorted shadows that poured over the walls and ceiling after him. Here +and there thin trickles of loose sand ran fizzing down the sides. The +atmosphere, heavily charged with faint yet pungent odours, lay utterly still, +and the flames of the candles might have been painted on the air for all the +movement they betrayed. +</p> + +<p> +And, as I watched, it was almost necessary to persuade myself forcibly that I +was only standing upright with difficulty in this little sand-hole of a modern +garden in the south of England, for it seemed to me that I stood, as in vision, +at the entrance of some vast rock-hewn Temple far, far down the river of Time. +The illusion was powerful, and persisted. Granite columns, that rose to heaven, +piled themselves about me, majestically uprearing, and a roof like the sky +itself spread above a line of colossal figures that moved in shadowy procession +along endless and stupendous aisles. This huge and splendid fantasy, borne I +knew not whence, possessed me so vividly that I was actually obliged to +concentrate my attention upon the small stooping figure of the doctor, as he +groped about the walls, in order to keep the eye of imagination on the scene +before me. +</p> + +<p> +But the limited space rendered a long search out of the question, and his +footsteps, instead of shuffling through loose sand, presently struck something +of a different quality that gave forth a hollow and resounding echo. He stooped +to examine more closely. +</p> + +<p> +He was standing exactly in the centre of the little chamber when this happened, +and he at once began scraping away the sand with his feet. In less than a +minute a smooth surface became visible—the surface of a wooden covering. +The next thing I saw was that he had raised it and was peering down into a +space below. Instantly, a strong odour of nitre and bitumen, mingled with the +strange perfume of unknown and powdered aromatics, rose up from the uncovered +space and filled the vault, stinging the throat and making the eyes water and +smart. +</p> + +<p> +“The mummy!” whispered Dr. Silence, looking up into our faces over +his candle; and as he said the word I felt the soldier lurch against me, and +heard his breathing in my very ear. +</p> + +<p> +“The mummy!” he repeated under his breath, as we pressed forward to +look. +</p> + +<p> +It is difficult to say exactly why the sight should have stirred in me so +prodigious an emotion of wonder and veneration, for I have had not a little to +do with mummies, have unwound scores of them, and even experimented magically +with not a few. But there was something in the sight of that grey and silent +figure, lying in its modern box of lead and wood at the bottom of this sandy +grave, swathed in the bandages of centuries and wrapped in the perfumed linen +that the priests of Egypt had prayed over with their mighty enchantments +thousands of years before—something in the sight of it lying there and +breathing its own spice-laden atmosphere even in the darkness of its exile in +this remote land, something that pierced to the very core of my being and +touched that root of awe which slumbers in every man near the birth of tears +and the passion of true worship. +</p> + +<p> +I remember turning quickly from the Colonel, lest he should see my emotion, yet +fail to understand its cause, turn and clutch John Silence by the arm, and then +fall trembling to see that he, too, had lowered his head and was hiding his +face in his hands. +</p> + +<p> +A kind of whirling storm came over me, rising out of I know not what utter +deeps of memory, and in a whiteness of vision I heard the magical old +chauntings from the Book of the Dead, and saw the Gods pass by in dim +procession, the mighty, immemorial Beings who were yet themselves only the +personified attributes of the true Gods, the God with the Eyes of Fire, the God +with the Face of Smoke. I saw again Anubis, the dog-faced deity, and the +children of Horus, eternal watcher of the ages, as they swathed Osiris, the +first mummy of the world, in the scented and mystic bands, and I tasted again +something of the ecstasy of the justified soul as it embarked in the golden +Boat of Ra, and journeyed onwards to rest in the fields of the blessed. +</p> + +<p> +And then, as Dr. Silence, with infinite reverence, stooped and touched the +still face, so dreadfully staring with its painted eyes, there rose again to +our nostrils wave upon wave of this perfume of thousands of years, and time +fled backwards like a thing of naught, showing me in haunted panorama the most +wonderful dream of the whole world. +</p> + +<p> +A gentle hissing became audible in the air, and the doctor moved quickly +backwards. It came close to our faces and then seemed to play about the walls +and ceiling. +</p> + +<p> +“The last of the Fire—still waiting for its full +accomplishment,” he muttered; but I heard both words and hissing as +things far away, for I was still busy with the journey of the soul through the +Seven Halls of Death, listening for echoes of the grandest ritual ever known to +men. +</p> + +<p> +The earthen plates covered with hieroglyphics still lay beside the mummy, and +round it, carefully arranged at the points of the compass, stood the four jars +with the heads of the hawk, the jackal, the cynocephalus, and man, the jars in +which were placed the hair, the nail parings, the heart, and other special +portions of the body. Even the amulets, the mirror, the blue clay statues of +the Ka, and the lamp with seven wicks were there. Only the sacred scarabaeus +was missing. +</p> + +<p> +“Not only has it been torn from its ancient resting-place,” I heard +Dr. Silence saying in a solemn voice as he looked at Colonel Wragge with fixed +gaze, “but it has been partially unwound,”—he pointed to the +wrappings of the breast,—“and—the scarabaeus has been removed +from the throat.” +</p> + +<p> +The hissing, that was like the hissing of an invisible flame, had ceased; only +from time to time we heard it as though it passed backwards and forwards in the +tunnel; and we stood looking into each other’s faces without speaking. +</p> + +<p> +Presently Colonel Wragge made a great effort and braced himself. I heard the +sound catch in his throat before the words actually became audible. +</p> + +<p> +“My sister,” he said, very low. And then there followed a long +pause, broken at length by John Silence. +</p> + +<p> +“It must be replaced,” he said significantly. +</p> + +<p> +“I knew nothing,” the soldier said, forcing himself to speak the +words he hated saying. “Absolutely nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be returned,” repeated the other, “if it is not now +too late. For I fear—I fear—” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge made a movement of assent with his head. +</p> + +<p> +“It shall be,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The place was still as the grave. +</p> + +<p> +I do not know what it was then that made us all three turn round with so sudden +a start, for there was no sound audible to my ears, at least. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor was on the point of replacing the lid over the mummy, when he +straightened up as if he had been shot. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something coming,” said Colonel Wragge under his +breath, and the doctor’s eyes, peering down the small opening of the +tunnel, showed me the true direction. +</p> + +<p> +A distant shuffling noise became distinctly audible coming from a point about +half-way down the tunnel we had so laboriously penetrated. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the sand falling in,” I said, though I knew it was +foolish. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the Colonel calmly, in a voice that seemed to have the +ring of iron, “I’ve heard it for some time past. It is something +alive—and it is coming nearer.” +</p> + +<p> +He stared about him with a look of resolution that made his face almost noble. +The horror in his heart was overmastering, yet he stood there prepared for +anything that might come. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no other way out,” John Silence said. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned the lid against the sand, and waited. I knew by the masklike +expression of his face, the pallor, and the steadiness of the eyes, that he +anticipated something that might be very terrible—appalling. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel and myself stood on either side of the opening. I still held my +candle and was ashamed of the way it shook, dripping the grease all over me; +but the soldier had set his into the sand just behind his feet. +</p> + +<p> +Thoughts of being buried alive, of being smothered like rats in a trap, of +being caught and done to death by some invisible and merciless force we could +not grapple with, rushed into my mind. Then I thought of fire—of +suffocation—of being roasted alive. The perspiration began to pour from +my face. +</p> + +<p> +“Steady!” came the voice of Dr. Silence to me through the vault. +</p> + +<p> +For five minutes, that seemed fifty, we stood waiting, looking from each +other’s faces to the mummy, and from the mummy to the hole, and all the +time the shuffling sound, soft and stealthy, came gradually nearer. The +tension, for me at least, was very near the breaking point when at last the +cause of the disturbance reached the edge. It was hidden for a moment just +behind the broken rim of soil. A jet of sand, shaken by the close vibration, +trickled down on to the ground; I have never in my life seen anything fall with +such laborious leisure. The next second, uttering a cry of curious quality, it +came into view. +</p> + +<p> +And it was far more distressingly horrible than anything I had anticipated. +</p> + +<p> +For the sight of some Egyptian monster, some god of the tombs, or even of some +demon of fire, I think I was already half prepared; but when, instead, I saw +the white visage of Miss Wragge framed in that round opening of sand, followed +by her body crawling on all fours, her eyes bulging and reflecting the yellow +glare of the candles, my first instinct was to turn and run like a frantic +animal seeking a way of escape. +</p> + +<p> +But Dr. Silence, who seemed no whit surprised, caught my arm and steadied me, +and we both saw the Colonel then drop upon his knees and come thus to a level +with his sister. For more than a whole minute, as though struck in stone, the +two faces gazed silently at each other: hers, for all the dreadful emotion in +it, more like a gargoyle than anything human; and his, white and blank with an +expression that was beyond either astonishment or alarm. She looked up; he +looked down. It was a picture in a nightmare, and the candle, stuck in the sand +close to the hole, threw upon it the glare of impromptu footlights. +</p> + +<p> +Then John Silence moved forward and spoke in a voice that was very low, yet +perfectly calm and natural. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you have come,” he said. “You are the one person +whose presence at this moment is most required. And I hope that you may yet be +in time to appease the anger of the Fire, and to bring peace again to your +household, and,” he added lower still so that no one heard it but myself, +“<i>safety to yourself</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +And while her brother stumbled backwards, crushing a candle into the sand in +his awkwardness, the old lady crawled farther into the vaulted chamber and +slowly rose upon her feet. +</p> + +<p> +At the sight of the wrapped figure of the mummy I was fully prepared to see her +scream and faint, but on the contrary, to my complete amazement, she merely +bowed her head and dropped quietly upon her knees. Then, after a pause of more +than a minute, she raised her eyes to the roof and her lips began to mutter as +in prayer. Her right hand, meanwhile, which had been fumbling for some time at +her throat suddenly came away, and before the gaze of all of us she held it +out, palm upwards, over the grey and ancient figure outstretched below. And in +it we beheld glistening the green jasper of the stolen scarabaeus. +</p> + +<p> +Her brother, leaning heavily against the wall behind, uttered a sound that was +half cry, half exclamation, but John Silence, standing directly in front of +her, merely fixed his eyes on her and pointed downwards to the staring face +below. +</p> + +<p> +“Replace it,” he said sternly, “where it belongs.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Wragge was kneeling at the feet of the mummy when this happened. We three +men all had our eyes riveted on what followed. Only the reader who by some +remote chance may have witnessed a line of mummies, freshly laid from their +tombs upon the sand, slowly stir and bend as the heat of the Egyptian sun warms +their ancient bodies into the semblance of life, can form any conception of the +ultimate horror we experienced when the silent figure before us moved in its +grave of lead and sand. Slowly, before our eyes, it writhed, and, with a faint +rustling of the immemorial cerements, rose up, and, through sightless and +bandaged eyes, stared across the yellow candlelight at the woman who had +violated it. +</p> + +<p> +I tried to move—her brother tried to move—but the sand seemed to +hold our feet. I tried to cry—her brother tried to cry—but the sand +seemed to fill our lungs and throat. We could only stare—and, even so, +the sand seemed to rise like a desert storm and cloud our vision ... +</p> + +<p> +And when I managed at length to open my eyes again, the mummy was lying once +more upon its back, motionless, the shrunken and painted face upturned towards +the ceiling, and the old lady had tumbled forward and was lying in the +semblance of death with her head and arms upon its crumbling body. +</p> + +<p> +But upon the wrappings of the throat I saw the green jasper of the sacred +scarabaeus shining again like a living eye. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wragge and the doctor recovered themselves long before I did, and I +found myself helping them clumsily and unintelligently to raise the frail body +of the old lady, while John Silence carefully replaced the covering over the +grave and scraped back the sand with his foot, while he issued brief +directions. +</p> + +<p> +I heard his voice as in a dream; but the journey back along that cramped +tunnel, weighted by a dead woman, blinded with sand, suffocated with heat, was +in no sense a dream. It took us the best part of half an hour to reach the open +air. And, even then, we had to wait a considerable time for the appearance of +Dr. Silence. We carried her undiscovered into the house and up to her own room. +</p> + +<p> +“The mummy will cause no further disturbance,” I heard Dr. Silence +say to our host later that evening as we prepared to drive for the night train, +“provided always,” he added significantly, “that you, and +yours, cause it no disturbance.” +</p> + +<p> +It was in a dream, too, that we left. +</p> + +<p> +“You did not see her face, I know,” he said to me as we wrapped our +rugs about us in the empty compartment. And when I shook my head, quite unable +to explain the instinct that had come to me not to look, he turned toward me, +his face pale, and genuinely sad. +</p> + +<p> +“Scorched and blasted,” he whispered. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10624 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> |