/vicevise &

• a daring story of
Devil-worship— the Black
Mass — strange suicides
By SEABURY QUINN

H. P. Lovecraft
Henry Kuttner
Thorp McClusky
Jack Williamson
W. T— 257
,
 A MAGAZINE OF THE BIZARRE AND UNUSUAL

REGISTERED IN U.S. PATENT OFFICE.

Volume 31 CONTENTS FOR MARCH, 1938 Number 3

Cover Design M. Brundage

Illustrating "Incense of Abomination
"Like one, that on a lonesome road” Virgil Finlay 257
Pictorial interpretation from "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Incense of Abomination Seabury Quinn 259
A daring story of Devil-worship, strange suicides, and Jules de Grandin

The Poets Robert E. Howard 279

Posthumous verse, by a late master of weird literature

The Thing on the Floor Thorp McClusky 280

The story of an unscrupulous hypnotist, and the frightful thing called Stepan

Dreadful Sleep Jack Williamson 298

A romantic and tragic tale of fearsome beings that lay in slumber under the antarctic ice

The Shadow on the Screen Henry Kuttner 320

A weird story of Hollywood and the silver screen
Beyond the Wall of Sleep H. P. I.ovecraft 331
What splendid yet terrible experiences came to the boor mountaineer while he slept?

The Hairy Ones Shall Dance (end) Gans T. Field 339

A novel of terror and sudden death, and the frightful thing that laired in the Devil's Croft

Guarded Mearle Prout 354

A brief tale of murder—by the author of "The House of the Worm"
The Teakwood Box Johns Harrington 358
San Pedro Joe found the secret in that intricately carved Oriental box

To Howard Phillips Lovecraft Francis Flagg 361

Sonnet to a late master of weird literature

The Head in the Window . . . Roy Temple House 362

A brief tale, adapted jrom the German of Wilhelm ton Scheie

Weird Story Reprint:

The Girl from Samarcand E. Hoffmann Price 367
A favorite tale by a master of fantasy, reprinted by popular demand

The Eyrie 378

Wherein the readers of WEIRD TALES voice their opinions

Published monthly by the Popular Fiction Publishing Company, 2457 East Washington Street, Indianapolis, Ind. Entered
as second-class matter March 20 1923, at the post office at Indianapolis, Ind., under the act of March 3, 1879. Single copies,
,

25 cents. Subscribtion rates One year in the United States and possessions, Cuba, Mexico, South America, Spain, $2.50
Canada, $2.75; elsewhere, $3.00. English office: Otis A. Kline, doJohn Paradise, 86 Strand, W. C. 2, London. The pub-
lishers are not responsible for the loss of unsolicited manuscripts, although every care will be taken of such material while io
their possession. The contents of this magazine are fully protected by copyright and must not be reproduced either wholly or ia
part without permission from the publishers.
NOTE — All manuscripts and communications should be addressed to the publishers' Chicago office at 840 North Michigan
Avenue, Chicago, 111. FARNSWORTH WRJGHT, Editor.
Copyright 1938, by the Popular Fiction Publishing Company.
COPYRIGHTED IN GREAT BRITAIN *
WEIRD TALES ISSUED 1st OF EACH MONTH
258
 By SEABURY QUINN
A daring story of Devil-worship, .the Black Mass, strange suicides, and the
salvation of one who had sinned greatly, yet was truly
repentant —a tale of Jules de Grandin

**.
incense is an abomination unto me." damndest mixed*up mess I’ve iver hap-
. .

— Isaiah, 1 , 13 .

pened up against,” he told us solemnly.

D
*

etective sergeant cos- 'Here’s this Eldridge felly, young an’

TELLO looked fixedly at the rich an’ idle, wid niver a care ter ’is name,
quarter-inch of ash on his cigar, savin’maybe, how he’d spend th’ next
asthough he sought solution of his prob- month's income, then zowie! he ups an’
lem in its fire-cored grayness. ’Tis th'
*'
hangs hisself. We finds him swingin’
259
260 WEIRD TALES
from th’ doorpost of his bedroom wid "How’d ye guess it, sot?” the big Irish-
his bathrobe girdle knotted around ‘is man looked at him admiringly. "Ye’ve
”
neck an’ about a mile o’ tongue sthickin’ put yer finger right upon it, but'

out. Suicide? Sure, an’ what else could He an embarrassed cough, then,
stifled
"
it be wid a felly found sthrung up in a turning slightly red: ’Tis th’ perfume,
tight-locked flat like that? sor, as makes me wonder.”

"Then, widin a week there comes a call "Perfume?” the little Frenchman ech-
”
fer us to take it on th’ lam up to th’ house oed. "What in Satan’s foul name
where Stanley Trivers lived. There he is, "Well, sor, I ain’t one o’ them as sees
a-layin' on his bathroom floor wid a cut a woman's skirts a-hidin’ back of ivery
across ’is throat that ye could put yer foot crime, though you an’ I both knows
In his pajammies he is, an'
into, a’ most. there’s mighty few crimes committed that
th' blood’srun down an’ spoilt ’em good ain’t concerned wid cash or women, savin’
an’ proper. Suicide again? Well, maybe when they’re done fer both. But these
so an’ maybe no, fer in all me time I’ve here cases have me worried. None o’
niver seen a suicidal cut across a felly’s these men wuz married, an’, so far as
throat that was as deep where it wound I’ve found out, none o’ them wuz kapin'
up as where it stharted. They mostly gits steady company, yet
— git this, sor; 'tis

remorse afore th’ cut is ended, as ye small, but maybe it’s important — there
know, on th’ knife gits
an’ th’ pressure wuz a smell o’ perfume hangin’ round
less an' less; so th’ cut’s a whole lot shal- each one of ’em, an’ 'twas th’ same in

lower at th’end than ’twas at th' begin- ivery case. No sooner had I got a look
nin*. However, th' coroner says it’s sui- at this pore Eldridge felly hangin’ like a
cide, so suicide it is, as far as we’re con- joint o’ beef from his own doorpost than
cerned. Anyhow, gintlemen, in both me nose begins a-twitchin'. 'Wuz he a
these cases th' dead men wuz locked in pansy, maybe?’ I wonders when I smelt
their houses, from th’ inside, as wus plain it first, for 'twas no shavin' lotion or toilet
by th’ keys still bein’ in th’ locks. water, but a woman's heavy scent, strong
"Now
comes th’ third one. ’Tis this an' swate an’ — what’s it that th' ads all
Donald Atkins felly, over to th’ Kensing- say? — distinctive. Yis, sor, that’s th'

ton Apartments. Sthretched on th’ floor word fer it, distinctive. Not like anything
he is, wid a hole bored in 'is forehead an’ I’ve smelt before, but kind o' like a mixin’
th’ blood a-runnin’ over everything. He’s up o' this here ether that they use ter put
on 'is back wid a pearl-stocked pistol in a man ter slape before they takes 'is leg
'is hand. Suicide again, says Schultz, me off, an’ kind o’ like th’ incense they use
partner, an’ I’m not th’ one ter say as how in church, an’ maybe there wuz sumpin
it ain’t, all signs pointin' as they do, still mixed wid it that wasn’t perfume afther
” He paused and puffed at his cigar all, sumpin that smelt rank an' sickly-

till its gray tip glowed with sullen rose. like, th’ kind o’ smell ye smell when they
Jules de Grandin tweaked a needle- takes a floater from th’ bay, sor.

sharp mustache tip. "Tell me, my ser- "Well, I looks around ter see where
geant,” he commanded, "what is it you it’s a-comin’ from, an’ it’s strongest in th'
have withheld? Somewhere in the history bedroom; but divil a sign o’ any woman
of these cases is a factor you have not re- bein’ there I find, 'ceptin’ fer th’ smell o’
vealed, some denominator common to perfume.
them all which makes your police instinct "So when we runs in on th’ Trivers
”
doubt your senses’ widence suicide, an’ I smells th’ same perfume
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 261

again, I say that this is sumpin more than fall into a coma simulating death if they
mere coincidence, but th' same thing hap- inspired enough.Those naughty fellows
pens there. Th’ smell is strongest in th’ mixed the drug with incense which they
bedroom, but there ain’t any sign that he’d caused to be burned in their victims'
had company th' night before; so just ter rooms. Some went mad and some ap-
make sure I takes th’ casin’s off th’ pil- peared to die. One of those who went
”
lows an’ has th’ boys at th’ crime lab’ra- insane committed suicide
tory look at ’em. Divil a trace o’ rouge or "Howly Mither, an’ ye think we may
powder do they find. be up against a gang like that, sor?”
"Both these other fellies kilt their- "One cannot say, mon vieux. Had I a
selves at night or early in th' mornin’, so, chance to sniff this scent, perhaps I could
o’ course, their beds wuz all unmade, but have told you. Its odor is not one that is
when we
Apartments
hustle over ter th’ Kensington
ter see aboutthis Misther At-
soon forgotten.
shoulders in a
As
shrug
it
— —he
is" raised his
"what can one
kins, 'tis just past three o’clock. Th’ doc- do?”
tor says that he’s been dead a hour or "Will ye be afther holdin’ yerself in
more; yet when I goes into his bedroom readiness ter come a-runnin’ if they’s an-
th’ covers ispushed down, like he’s been other o' these suicides, sor?" the big de-
slapin’ there an’ got up in a hurry, an’ th’ tective asked as he rose to say good-night.
perfume’s strong enough ter knock ye "I’d take it kindly if ye would.”
down, a’most. Th’ boys at th’ crime lab "You may count on me, my friend.
say there’s not a trace o’ powder on th’ A bientot," the little Frenchman answered
linen, an’ by th’ time I gits th’ pillows to with a smile.
’em th’ perfume’s faded out."

"
He looked at us with vaguely troubled
eyes and ran his hand across his mouth.
'Tis meself that’s goin’ nuts about these
T
still
he storm had blown
in the evening,
itself out earlier
but the streets were
bright with the filmy remnant of the
suicides a-comin' one on top th’ other, an’ sleety rain and the moon was awash in a
this perfume bobbin' up in every case!" breaking surf of wind-clouds. It was
he finished. longer by the north road, but with the
De Grandin pursed his lips. "You pavements slick as burnished glass I pre-
would know this so strange scent if you ferred to take no chances and had throt-
encountered it again?" tled down my engine almost to a walking
"Faith, sor, I’d know it in me slape!” pace as we climbed the gradient leading
"And you have never met with it be- to North Bridge. De Grandin sank his
fore?" chin into the fur of his upturned coat
"Indade an’ I had not, nayther before collar and nodded sleepily. The party at
nor since, savin’ in th’ imayjate prisence the Merrivales had been not at amus-
all

o' them three dead corpses." ing, and w'e were due at City Hospital at
"One regrets it is so evanescent. Per- seven in the morning. "Ah, bah," he
haps if I could smell might be able to
it I murmured drowsily, "we were a pair of
identify it. I recall when
I was serving fools, my friend; we forgot a thing of
with le surete we came upon a band of great importance when we left the house
making use of a strange Indian
scoundrels tonight.”
drug by the Hindoos chhota maut
called "U’m?” I grunted. "What?"
or little It was a subtle powder
death. "To stay there,” he returned. "Had
c which made those inhaling it go mad, or we but the sense le bon Dieu gives an un-
262 WEIRD TALES
fledged gosling, we should have sapristi! can’t afford to leave him here. He’ll
”
Stop him, he ison self-destruction!”
intent surely try to kill himself again if
At his shouted warning I looked to- "Parbleu! Attendez, s’il vous plait!” he
ward the footwalk and descried a figure interrupted.
,r
Le parjum —do you smell
in a heavy ulster climbing up the guard him?” He paused with back-thrown head,
rail. Shooting on my power, I jerked the narrow nostrils quivering as he sniffed
car ahead, then cut the clutch and jammed the moist, cold air.

the brakes down hard, swinging us There was no doubt of it. Faint and
against the curb abreast of the intending growing quickly fainter, but plainly no-
suicide. I kicked the door aside and raced aura of a scent hung in the
ticeable, the
around the engine-hood, but de Grandin atmosphere. It was an odd aroma, not
disdained such delays and vaulted over- wholly pleasant, yet distinctly fascinating,
side, half leaping, half sliding on the seeming to combine the heavy sweetness
slippery pavement and cannoning full- of patchouli with the bitterness of frank-
tilt against the man who sought to climb incense and the penetrating qualities of
1r
the breast-high railing. Parbleu, you musk and civet; yet underlying it there
shall not!” he exclaimed as he grasped was a faint and slightly sickening odor of
the other’s legs with outflung arms. "It corruption.
is wet down there, Monsieur, and most "Why, I never smelled ” I began,

abominably cold. Wait for summer if you but de Grandin waved aside my observa-
care to practise diving!” tion.

The man kicked viciously, but the lit- "Nor I,” he nodded shortly, "but un-
tle Frenchman hung on doggedly, and as less I am at fault this is the perfume
the other loosed his hold upon the rail which the good Costello told us of. Can-
they both came crashing to the pavement not you see, my friend? have here We
where they rolled and thrashed like fight- our laboratory specimen, an uncompleted
ing dogs. suicide with the redolence of this mysteri-
hovered near the melee, intent on giv-
I ous scent upon it. Help me lift him in
ing such assistance as I could, but my help the car, mon vieux; we have things to say
was not required; for as I reached to to this one. We shall ask him, by ex-
"
snatch the stranger’s collar, de Grandin ample, why it was
gave a quick twist, arched his body upon "Suppose that he won’t talk?” I

neck and heels and with a blow as rapid broke in.

as a striking snake’s chopped his adversary "Ha, you suppose that! If your sup-
on the Adam's apple with his stiffened position proves correct and he is of the
hand. The result was instantaneous. The obstinacy,you shall see a beautiful ex-
larger man collapsed as if he had been ample of the third degree. You shall see
shot, and my little friend slipped out me turn him inside out as if he were a
from underneath him, teeth flashing in lady’s glove. I shall creep into his mind,
an impish grin, small blue eyes agleam. me. I shall mordieu, before the night is

"A knowledge of jiu-jutsu comes in done I damn think I shall have at least a
handy now and then,” he panted as he partial answer to the good Costello's puz-
rearranged his clothing. "For a moment zle! Come, let us be of haste; en avant!”
I had fears that he would take me with

him

I
to a watery bed.”
"Well, what shall
asked.
we do with him?”
"He’s out completely, and we
D espite his height the salvaged
did not weigh much, and
trouble getting him inside the car.
man
we had no
In
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 2 6$

fifteen minutes we were home, just as
our rescued human flotsam showed signs
of returning consciousness.
"Be careful,” warned de Grandin as
double lines between the Frenchman’s
narrow brows was etched a little deeper
as he answered in an even voice "God
—
is not mocked. It is easier to -spit against

he helped the passenger alight. "If you the hurricane than jeer at Him. Besides,
behave we shall treat you with the kind- He ismost merciful, He is compassionate,
ness, but if you try the monkey’s tricks and His patience transcends understand-
I have in readiness a second portion of the ing. Wicked we may be, but if we offer
’’
dish I served you on the Pont du Nord. true repentance
"Here,” he added as we led our captive "Even if you’ve committed the unpar-
to the study, "this is the medicine for donable sin?”
those who feel at odds with life.” He "Tiens, this peche irremissible of which
poured a gill of Scots into a tumbler and the theologians prate so learnedly, yet
poised the siphon over it. "Will you have which none of them defines? You had a
soda with your whisky,” he inquired, “or mother, one assumes; you may have
do you like it unpolluted?” sinned against her grievously, disap-
"Soda, please,” the other answered pointed her high hopes in you, shown in-
sulkily, drained his glass in two huge gratitude as black as Satan's shadow,
gulps and held it out again. abused her trust or even done her bodily
"Eh bien,” the Frenchman chuckled, hurt. Yet if you went to her sincerely
"your troubles have not dulled your ap- penitent and told her you were sorry, that
Drink, my friend, drink
petite, it seems. you truly loved her and would sin no
allyou wish, for the evening is still young more, parbleu, she would forgive, you
and we have many things to talk of, thou know it! Will the Heavenly Father be
and I.” less merciful than earthly parents? Very
The visitor eyed him sullenly as he well, then. Who can say that he has
took a sip from his fresh glass. "I sup- sinned past reconciliation?”
pose you think you’ve done your Boy "I can; I did—we all did! We cast
”
Scout’s good deed for today?” he mut- God out and embraced Satan
tered. Something that was lurking horror
"Metis out, mats certaitiement” the seemed to take form in his eyes, giving
Frenchman nodded vigorously. "We have them a stony, glazed appearance. It was
saved you from irreparable wrong, my as if a filmy curtain were drawn down
friend. Le bon Dieu did not put us across them, hiding everything within,
”
here to mirroring only a swift-mounting terror.
"That’s comic!” the other burst out "Ah?” de Grandin murmured thought-
"
with a cackling laugh. 'Le bon Diet? fully. "Now we begin to make the prog-
much use He has for me!” ress.” Abruptly he demanded:
De Grandin lowered his arching brows "You knew Messieurs Eldridge, Tri-
a little; the effect was a deceptively mild, vers and Atkins?” He flung the words
thoughtful frown. "So-o,” he murmured, more like a challenging accusation than a
"that is the way of it? You feel that you query.
”
have been cast off, that "Yes!”
"Why not? Didn’t we ——
I cast Him "And they, too, thought they had
out? didn’t I deny Him, take service with sinned past redemption; they saw in sui-
”
His enemies, mock at Him cide the last hope of escape; they were
"Be not deceived, my friend” —the concerned with you in this iniquity?”
264 WEIRD TALES
"They were, but no interfering busy- a rich youth’s viciousness as merely indi-
body stopped them. Let me out of here, cation of high spirits had kept him from
”
I'm going to dismissal since his freshman year, and
"Monsieur,” de Grandin did not raise faculty and townsfolk sighed with relief
his voice, but the look he bent upon the when he took his sheepskin and departed
other was as hard and merciless as though simultaneously. The Balderson and Ald-
it were a leveled bayonet, "you are going ridge fortunes were combined when he
to remain right here and tell us how it married Bronson Aldridge’s sole heir and
came about. You will tell of this trans- daughter, and though he settled down in
gression which has caused three deaths the walnut-paneled office of the Farmers
already and almost caused a fourth. Do Loan & Trust Company, his sons had car-
not fear to speak, my friend. We are ried on his youthful zest for getting into
physicians, and your confidence will Be trouble. Drunken driving, divorce cases,
respected. On the other hand, if you per- scandals which involved both criminal and
sist in silence we shall surely place you civil courts, were their daily fare. Two
in restraint. You would like to be lodged of them had died by violence, one in a
in a madhouse, have your every action motor smash-up, one when an outraged
watched, be strapped in a straitjacket if husband showed bettermarksmanship
you attempted self-destruction, hein?" than self-restraint. One had died of poi-
Slowly spoken, his words had the impact son liquor in the Prohibition era. We
of a bodily assault, and the other reeled had just saved die sole survivor from
as from a beating. attempted suicide. "Yes, I knew your
"Not that!” he gasped. "O God, any- father,” I responded.
thing but that! I’ll tell you everything if "Do you remember Horton Hall?” he
”
you will promise asked.
"You have our word, Monsieur; Ibent my brows a moment. "Wasn't
say on.” down by the Shrewsbury
that the school
where they had a scandal? something —
T he visitor drew up closer to
his chair
the fire, as if a sudden cold had
chilled his marrow. He was some fort}’
about the headmaster committing sui-
cide, or
"You’re
”

right. That’s it. I was in the

years of age, slim and quite attractive, So were Eldridge, Trivers
last class there.

immaculately dressed, well groomed. His and Atkins.

eyes were brown, deep-set and drawn, as
if unutterably weary, with little pouches
under them. His shoulders sagged as if
the weight they bore was too much for
them. His hair was almost wholly gray.
"Beaten” was the only adjective to modi-
fy him.
"I was finishing my junior year when
the war broke out in ’seventeen. Dad got
bulletproof commissions for the older
boys, but wouldn’t hear of my enlisting
in the Navy. 'You’ve a job to do right
there at Horton,' he told me. 'Get your
then we’ll see about your join-
certificate;

you knew my parents,

"I think perhaps ing up.’ So back I went to finish out my
Doctor Trowbridge,” he began. "My senior year. Dad didn’t know what he
father was James Balderson.” was doing to me. Things might have
I nodded. Jim Balderson had been a turned out differently if I’d gone in the
senior when I entered college, and his service.
escapades were bywords on the campus. "Everyone who could was getting in
Nothing but the tolerance which stamps the Army or the Navy. We’d lost most
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 265

"
of our faculty when I went back in ’eight- ’You’d like that sort of thing?’ he
een, and they’d put a new headmaster in, laughed. ’I and more;
can give it to you.
a Doctor Herbules. Fellows were leaving more than you ever imagined. Wine and
right and left, enlisting from the campus song and gayety and women; beautiful, —
or being called by draft boards, and I lovely, cultured women, not the street-

was pretty miserable. One day as I was trulls that you’d meet in France —you can
walking back from science lab., I ran full- have all this and more, if you want to,
tilt into old Herbules. Balderson.’
“ "
'What’s the matter, Balderson?’ he ’Lead me to it,’ I replied. ‘When do
asked. 'You look as if you’d lost your last we start?’
" Ah, my boy, nothing's given for
friend.’
"
‘Well, I have, almost,’ I answered. nothing. There are some things you’ll
‘With so many fellows off at train- have to do, some promises to make, some-
”
ing-camp, having all kinds of excite- thing to be paid
'
"
ment 'All right; how much?’ I asked. Dad
"
'You want excitement, eh?’ he inter- was liberal with me. I had a hundred dol-
rupted. I can give it to you; such excite- lars every month for spending money,
ment as you’ve never dreamed of. I can and I could always get as much again
make you ’
He stopped abruptly, and from Mother if I worked it right.
it seemed to me he looked ashamed of "
no; not money,’ he almost
'No,
something, but he’d got my curiosity laughed in my face. 'The price of all this
roused.
"
can’t be paid in money. All we ask is
’You’re on, sir,' I told him. 'What that you give the Master something which
is it, a prize-fight?'
I greatly doubt you realize you have, my
"Herbules was queer. Everybody said boy.’
so. He couldn’t have been much past "It sounded pretty cock-eyed to me,
thirty'; yet his hair was almost snow-
but if the old boy really had something
white and there was a funny sort o’ peace-
up his sleeve I wanted to know about it
ful expression on his smooth face that
'Count me in,’ I told him. 'What do I do
reminded me of something that I couldn’t
next?”
quite identify. He had the schoolmaster’s
"There was no one within fifty yards
trick of speaking with a sort of pedantic
of us, but he bent until his lips were al-
precision,and he never raised his voice;
most in my ear before he whispered:
yet when he spoke in chapel we could
"Next Wednesday at midnight, come to
understand him perfectly, no matter how
my house.’
far from the platform we were sitting. "
’Private party, or could I bring a
I’d never seen him show signs of excite-
friend or two?’
ment before, but now he was breathing
hard and was in such deadly earnest that
"His features seemed to freeze. 'Who .

his lips were fairly trembling. 'What do

is the friend?’ he asked.
"
you most want from life?’ he asked me in 'Well, I’d like to bring Eldridge and
a whisper. Trivers, and maybe Atkins, too. They’re
" pretty good eggs, and know they
’Why, I don’t know, just now I’d all
’
I

like best of all to get into the Army; I’d crave excitement
like to go and bat around with
to France " Oh, by all means, yes. Be sure to
the mademoiselles, and get drunk any bring them. It’s agreed, then? Next
time I wanted
’

Wednesday night at twelve, at my house.’

2 66 WEIRD TALES
T T ERBULES was waiting for us in a through the same procedure, and the door
IT when
perfect fever of excitement swung back to let us in.
we tiptoed up his front-porch steps on “We were in a big room, twenty by
Wednesday night. He had a domino and forty feet, I guess, and we knew it was a
mask for each of us. The dominoes were cellar by the smell — stiflingly close, but
fiery red, with hoods that pulled up like clammy as a tomb at once. Rows of fold-
monks’ cowls; the masks were black, and ing chairs like those used at bridge games
hideous. They represented long, thin — or funerals —were arranged in double
faces with out- jutting chins; the lips were rows with a passage like an aisle between,
purple and set in horrid grins; the eye- and at the farther end of the big room we
brows were bright scarlet wool and at the saw an altar.
top there was another patch of bright red “In all my life I don’t believe I’d been
worsted curled and cut to simulate a to church ten times, but we were nom-
fringe of hair. ‘Good Lord,’ said Atkins inally Protestants, so what I saw had less
as he tried his on, ‘I look just like the effect on me than if I’d been a Catholic

Devil!’ or Episcopalian; but I knew at once the

“I thought that Herbules would have altar wasn't regulation. Oh, it was suffi-

a stroke when he heard Atkins speak. ciently impressive, but it had a sort of

'You’ll use that name with more respect — not

comic no, comic, grotesque, rather
after tonight, my boy,’ he said. —note about it. A reredos of black cloth
was hung against the wall, and before it
“After that we all got in his car and
stood a heavy table more than eight feet
drove down toward Red Bank.
long and at least six wide, covered by a
“We stopped about a mile outside of black cloth edged with white. It reminded
town and parked the car in a small patch me of something, though I couldn’t quite
of woods, walked some distance down the identify it for a moment; then I knew.
road, climbed a fence and cut across a
I’d seen a Jewish funeral once, and this
field till we reached an old deserted house. cloth was like the black-serge pall they
I’d seen the place as I drove past, and
used to hide the plain pine coffin! At
had often wondered why it was unoccu- each end of the altar stood a seven-
pied, for it stood up on a hill surrounded
branched candelabrum made of brass, eadi
by tall trees and would have made an with a set of tall black candles in it.
ideal summer home, but I’d been told its
These were burning and gave off a pale
well was dry, and as there was no other
blue glow. They seemed to be perfumed,
source of water, nobody wanted it. and the odor which they burned with
too,
“We didn’t go to the front door, but —
was pleasant at first. Then, as I sniffed
tiptoed round the back, where Herbules a second time it seemed to me there was
struck three quick raps, waited for a mo- a faint suspicion of a stench about it,
ment, then knocked four more. “We’d something like the fetor that you smell
allput on our robes and masks while he if you're driving down the road and pass
was knocking, and when the door was a dog or cat that’s been run over and has
opened on a crack we saw the porter was lain awhile out in the sun just a mo- —
robed and masked as we were. Nobody mentary whiff, but nauseating, just the
said a word, and we walked through a same. Between the candelabra, right ex-
basement entrance, down a long and nar- actly in the center of the altar, but back
row hall, and turned a corner where we against the wall, was a yard-high crucifix
met another door. Here Herbules went of some black wood with an ivory figure
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 267

on it, upside down. Before the cross

there was a wine goblet and a box
silver
of gilt inlay about the size and shape of
a lady’s powder-puff box.
‘‘I heard Atkins catch his breath and
give a sort of groan.He'd been brought
up an Episcopalian and knew about such
things. He turned half round to leave,
but I caught him by the sleeve.
"
'Come on, you fool, don’t be a sissy!’
I admonished, and next moment we were
all so interested that he had no thought

of leaving.
"There was a sort of congregation in
the chapel; every seat was occupied by
someone masked and robed just as we
were, save three vacant places by the altar
steps. These, we knew, were kept for us,

but when we looked about for Herbules

he was nowhere to be seen; so we went sank low in genuflection, then wheeled
forward to our seats alone. could We about and faced us. For a moment she
hear a hum of whispering as we walked stood there, svelte, graceful, mysteriously
up the aisle, and we knew some of the
, beautiful with that thin white face and
voices were from women; but who was scarlet lips so like a mask; then with a
man and who was woman was impossible sudden kicking motion she unshod her
to tell, for eadi one looked just like his feet, opened wide her cloak and let it fall

neighbor in his shrouding robe. in scarlet billows on the dull-black carpet

of the altar steps.
“^TpHE whispering suddenly became in- "She was so beautiful it almost hurt
tense, like the susurrus of a hive of the eyes to look at her as she stood there
swarming bees. Every neck seemed sud- in white silhouette against the ebon back-
denly to crane, every eye to look in one ground of the black-draped altar, with
direction, and as we turned our glances her narrow, boy-like hips, slim thighs and
toward the right side of the cellar we full, high, pointed breasts. She was a
saw a woman entering through a cur- thing of snow and fire, her body palely
tained doorway. She wore a long, loose cool and virginal, her lips like flame, her
cape which she held together with
scarlet eyes like embers blazing when a sudden
one hand, her hair was very black, her wind stirs them to brightness.
eyes were large and luminously dark, "The modem strip-tease routine was
seeming have a glance of overbearing
to unthougnt of in those days, and though I
sensuousness and sweet humility at once. was sophisticated far beyond my eighteen
Her white, set face was an imponderable years I had never seen a woman in the
mask; her full red lips were fixed in an nude before. The flame of her raced in
uneven, bitter line. Beneath the hem of my blood and crashed against my brain
her red cloak we saw the small feet in with almost numbing impact. I felt my-
the golden, high-heeled slippers were un- self go faint and sick with sudden weak-
stockinged. As she neared the altar she ness and desire.
268 WEIRD TALES
“A long-drawn sigh came from the on toward its climax. Herbules took up
audience; then the tableau was abruptly the silver chalice and held it high above

broken as the girl turned from us, mount- his head, then rested it upon the living
ed nimbly to the black-draped altar and altar, placingbetween her breasts, and
it

stretched herself full length upon it, we could see the flesh around her nails
crossed her ankles and thrust her arms grow white as she grasped the black-
out right and left, so that her body made palled altar table with her fingers. Her
a white cross on the sable altar-cloth. body, shining palely on the coffin-pall
Her eyes were closed as though in peace- under the flickering candles’ light, was
ful sleep, but her bosoms rose and fell arched up like a tauted bow, she shook
with her tumultuous breathing. She had as if a sudden chill had seized her, and
become the altar! from her tight-drawn, scarlet lips there
"Silence fell upon the congregation issued little whimpering sounds, not cries

like a shadow, and next instant Herbules nor yet quite groans, but something which
came in. He wore a priest’s vestments, a partook of both, and at the same time
long red cassock, over it the alb and stole, made me think of the soft, whining
and in his hand he bore a small red sounds a new-born puppy makes.
book. Behind him came his acolyte, but "The kneeling acolyte chimed a sac-
it was not an altar-boy. It was a girl, ring-bell and the congregation bent and
slender, copper-haired, petite. She wore a swayed like a wheat-field swept across by
short surcoat of scarlet, cut low around sudden wind.
riie shoulders, sleeveless, reaching just be- "When all was finished we were bid-

low the hips, like the tabards worn by den to come forward and kneel before
mediaeval heralds. Over it she wore a the altar steps. Herbules came down and
lace-edged cotta. Otherwise she was un- stood above us, and each of us was made

clothed. We could hear the softly-slap- to kiss the red book which he held and
ping patter of her small bare feet upon take a fearful oath, swearing that he
the altar-sill as she changed her place would abstain from good and embrace
from side to side, genuflecting as she evil, serve Satan faithfully and well, and
passed the reversed crucifix. She swung do his best to bring fresh converts to the
a brazen censer to and fro before her and worship of the Devil. Should we in any
the gray smoke curled in spurting puffs manner break our oath, we all agreed that
from it, filling the entire place with a per- Satan might at once foreclose upon his
fume like that generated
by the candles, mortgage on our souls, and bear us still
but stronger, more intense, intoxicating. alive to hell, and the sign that we were
"Herbules began the service with a come for was to be the odor of the per-
muttered Latin prayer, and though he fume which the candles and the censer
seemed to follow a set ritual even I could gave that night.
see it was not that prescribed, by any "When this ritual was finished we
diurch, for when he knelt he did so with were bidden name our dearest wish, and
his back turned toward the altar; when told it would be granted. I could hear
he crossed himself he did it with the the others mumble something, but could
thumb of his left hand, and made the not understand their words. I don’t know
sign beginning at the bottom, rather than what possessed me when it came my turn
the top. But even in this mummers’ to ask a boon of Satan —
possibly he put
parody the service was majestic. I could the thought into my mind, maybe it was
feel its power and compulsion as it swept my longing to get out of school and go
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 269

to France before the war was ended. At "She pulled me through the crowd, led
any rate, when Herbules bent over me I me up the stairs and thrust a door ajar.
muttered, 'I wish the pater would bump The little room we entered was entirely
off.’ oriental. A Persian lamp hung like a
"He leaned toward me with a smile blazing ruby from the ceiling, on the
and whispered, ’You begin your postu- floor were thick, soft rugs and piles of

lancy well, my son,' then held his hand down-filled pillows. There was no other
out to me, signifying that I should return furniture.
his clasp with both of mine. As I put out "With a laugh she turned her back to
my hands to take his I saw by my wrist- me, motioning me to slip the knot which
watch that it was exactly half -past twelve. held the girdle of her domino; then she
"What followed was the wildest party bent her head while I withdrew the pins
I had ever seen or dreamt of. The farm- that held her hair. It rippled in a cascade
house windows had been boarded up and to her waist —
below, nearly to her knees
curtained, and inside the rooms were — black and glossy as the plumage of a
literally ablaze with light. Men and wo- grackle's throat, and as it cataracted down
men, some draped in their red dominoes, she swung around, shrugging her shoul-
some in evening dress, some naked as the ders quickly, and let the scarlet domino
moment that they first drew breath, min- fall from her. An upswing of her hand
gled in a perfect saturnalia of unrestrained displaced the black-faced, purple, grin-
salacity. On tables stood ice-buckets with' ning mask, and I looked directly in the
champagne, and beside them tall decan- face of the pale girl who half an hour
ters of cut glass and sher-
filled w’ith port earlier had lain upon the altar of the
ry, tokay, madeira, muscatel and malaga. Devil. 'Kiss me!' she commanded. 'Kiss
Also there was bottled brandy, vodka and me!’ Her arms were tight about my neck,
whisky, trays of cigarettes, boxes of cigars, pulling my lips to hers, drawing her
sandwiches, cake and sweetmeats. It was slender, unclothed body tight against me.
like the carnival at New Orleans, only Her lips clung to my mouth as though
ten times gayer, madder, more abandoned. they were a pair of scarlet leeches; through
I was grasped by naked men and women, her half-closed lids I saw the glimmer of
whirled furiously around in a wild dance, her bright black eyes, burning like twin
then let go only to be seized by some new points of quenchless fire. . . .

partner and spun around until I almost

fell from dizziness. Between times I “Tt was daylight when we reached the
drank, mixing wine and spirits without A dorm next and all of us reported
day,
thought, stuffed sandwiches and cake and sick at chapel. Sometime about eleven, as
candy in my mouth, then drank fresh I rose to get a drink of water, a knock
drafts of chilled champagne or sharp- came at my door. It was a telegram that
toned brandy. stated
"Staggering drunkenly about the table
Father dropped dead in his study at twelve
I was reaching for another glass when I
forty-five. Come. Mother.
felt a hand upon my shoulder. Turning,
I beheld a pair of flashing eyes laughing "I hurried back to school as soon as
at me through the peep-holes of n mask. possible. My father’s death had startled
'Come with me, my neophyte,' the masked — frightened— me, but I put it down to
girl whispered; 'there is still a chalice you coincidence. He'd been suffering from
have left untasted. Bright’s disease for several years, and
270 WEIRD TALES
probably his number’d just turned up, I affection and the doctors gave her but a
told myself. Besides, the longing for the year to live. When they pronounced sen-
celebration of the sacrilegious Mass with tence she was almost prostrated; then in
its sensual stimulation, followed by the desperation she turned to religion,, going
orgiastic parties, had me in a grip as every day to church and spending hours
strong as that which opium exerts upon on her knees in private prayer. But medi-
its addicts. cal examination showed her illness was

"Twice a week, each Wednesday and progressing, and when she chanced to
Friday, my three friends and I attended hear of Herbules’ devil-cult she came to
the salacious sendees held in the old it. ’I’m too young, too beautiful to die!’
farmhouse cellar, followed by the revels she told me as we lay locked in each
in the upper rooms, and bit by bit we others’arms one night. Why should God
learned about our fellow cultists. Herbu- take my
life? I never injured Him. All

les, the head and center of the cult, was a right, ifHe won’t have me, Satan will.
priest stripped of his orders. Pastor of a He'll give me life and happiness and
parish in the suburbs of Vienna, he had power, let me live for years and years;

dabbled in the Blade Art, seduced a num- keep me young and beautiful when all
ber of his congregation from their faith, these snivelling Christian girls are old
finally celebrated the Black Mass. The and faded. What do I care if I go to hell

ecclesiastical authorities unfrocked him, to pay for it? I’ll take my heaven here
the civil government jailed him on a on earth, and when the bill's presented I

morals charge, but disgrace could not im- won't welch!’

pair his splendid education or his bril- "There’s an old saying that each time
liantmind, and as soon as his imprison- God makes a beautiful woman the Devil
ment was over he emigrated to America opens a new page in his ledger. He must
and at once secured a post as teacher. have had to put in a whole set of books
Though his talents were unquestionable, when Marescha w as converted #
to our cult.
his morals were not, and scandal fol- She was attractive as a witch, had no more
lowed every post he held. He was at the conscience than a snake, and positively
end of his string when he managed to burned with ardor to do evil. Night
worm his way into the Horton trustees' after night she brought new converts to
confidence and secured the post left va- the cult, sometimes young men, some-
cant by the fonner headmaster’s entrance times girls. 'Come on, you little fool/ I

in the Army. heard her urge a girl who shrank from

"Our companion Devil -worshippers the wild orgy following initiation. Take
were mostly college and preparatory stu- offyour robe; that’s what we’re here for.
dents looking for a thrill, now tangled in This is our religion, the oldest in the
the net of fascination that the cult spun world; it’s revolt against the goody-good-
round its devotees, but a few of them ies, revolt against the narrowness of God;
were simply vicious, while others turned we live for pleasure and unbridled pas-
to demonolatry because they had lost sion instead of abnegation and renuncia-
faith in God. tion — life and love and pleasure in a
"One of these was Marescha Nurmi, world of vivid scarlet, instead of fear and
the girl who acted as the living altar. She dreariness in a world all cold and gray.
was my constant partner at the orgies, and That’s our creed and faith. We’re set
bit by bit I learned her history. Only apart, we’re marked for pleasure, we wor-
”
nineteen, she was the victim of a heart shippers of Satan.’
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 271

" Tiens the lady was a competent sales-

woman,” de Grandin murmured. "Did

she realize her dreams?”
The laugh that prefaced Balderson’s
reply was like the edio of a chuckle in a
vaulted tomb. "I don’t know if she got
her money’s worth, but certainly she
paid,” he answered. "It was nearing
graduation time, and the celebrations
were about to stop until the fall, for it
would be impossible to keep the farm-
house windows shuttered so they’d show
no gleam of light, especially with so
many people on the roads in summer.
Herbules had just completed invocation,
raised the chalice overhead and set it on
Marescha’s breast when we saw her twitch
convulsively. The little whimpering ani-
mal-cries she always made when the climax
of the obscene parody was reached gave as though she w ere
r
exhausted. Where a
way to a choked gasping, and we saw the line of white defined the lower teeth we
hand that clutched the altar-table sudden- saw her tongue had fallen forward, lying

ly relax. She raised her head and stared level with the full, red lip.
around the chapel with a look that sent “Somewhere in the rear of the diapel
the chill of horror rippling through me, another woman’s voice, shrilly pitched,
then cried out in a strangled voice: 'O but controlled, cried out: 'She’s dead!’
Lord, be pitiful!’ Then she fell back on “There was a wave of movement in the
the coffin-pall that draped the altar and worshippers. Chairs were overturned,
her fingers dangled loosely on its edge, gowns rustled, whispered questions
her feet uncrossed and lay beside each buzzed like angry bees. Then the woman
other. sitting next me screamed again: ‘This is
no natural death, no illness killed her;
“T T erbules was going on as if noth- she’s been stricken dead for sacrilege,
AA ing had happened, but the woman she’s sacrificed for our sins — fly, fly be-
who sat next to me let out a sudden wail. fore the wrath of God blasts all of us!’
'Look at her,’ she screamed. ‘Look at her “Herbules stood at the altar facing us.
face!' A mask as of some inner feeling, of
"Marescha’s head had turned a little strange, forbidden passions, of things that
to one side, and we saw her features in raced on scurrying feet within his brain,
the altar-candles’ light. Her dark hair seemed to drop across his features. His
had come unbound and fell about her face seemed old and ancient, yet at the
face as though it sought to hide it. Her same time ageless; his eyes took on a
eyes were not quite closed, nor fully open, glaze like polished agate. He raised both
for a thread of gray eyeball was visible hands above his head, the fingers flexed
between the long black lashes. Her like talons, and laughed as if at some
mouth was partly open,, not as though dark jest known only to himself. ‘Whoso
she breathed through it, but lax, slack, leaves the temple of his Lord without
 WEIRD TALES
partaking of this most unholy sacrament, farmhouse burned that night, and because
the same will Satan cast aside, defense- there was no water to be had, there was
less from the vengeance of an outraged no salvage. Still, a few things were not
God!’ he cried. utterly destroyed, and people in the
"Then I knew. Karl Erik Herbuies, neighborhood still wonder how those
renegade Christian priest, brilliant schol- Persian lamps and brazen candlesticks
ar, poisoner of souls and votary of Satan, came to be in that deserted house.
Tom
’

was mad as any o’ Bedlam* 'Herbuies committed suicide that night,

"Lie stood there by the Devil’s altar
hurling curses at us, threatening us with
Heaven's vengeance, casting an anathema
upon us with such vile insults and filthy
language as a fishwife would not dare to
use.
and when the auditors went over his ac-
counts they found he’d practically wrecked
Horton. There was hardly a cent left, for
he’d financed his whole grisly farce of
Devil worship with the money he embez-
zled. The trustees made the losses good

"But panic had the congregation by and gave up in disgust. Ours was the last
the throat. They pushed and fought and class graduated.
scratched and bit like frenzied cats, claw- "They found Marescha’s body floating
ing and slashing at one another till they in the Shrewsbury two days later, and at
gained the exit, then rushing pellmell first the coroner was sure she’d been the
down the hill to their parked cars with- victim of a murder; for while the win-
out a backward look, leaving Herbuies dow-weights had fallen off, the cords
alone beside the altar he had raised to that tied them were still knotted round
dead girl stretched upon it.
Satan, with the her ankles. When the autopsy disclosed
"There was no chance that Herbuies she’d not been drowned, but had been
would help. He kept reciting passages put into the river after death from heart
from the Black Mass, genuflecting to the disease, the mystery was deepened, but
altar,filling and refilling the wine-cup until tonight only four people knew its

and stuffing his mouth with the wafers answer. Now there are only three.”
meant to parody the Host. So Trivers, "Three, Alonsieur?” de Grandin asked.
Eldridge, Atkins and I took Marescha’s "That's right. Trivers, Atkins and
body to the river, -weighted it with win- Eldridge are dead. I’m still here, and you
”
dow-irons and dropped it in the water. and Doctor Trowbridge
But the knots we tied must have been "Your figures are at fault, my friend.
loose, or else the weights were insufficient, You forget we are physicians, and your
for as we turned to leave, her body narrative was given us in confidence.”
floated almost to the surface and one "But see here,” I asked as the silence
white arm raised above the river’s glassy lengthened, "what is there about all this
face, as though to wave a mute farewell. to make you want to kill yourself? If
It must have been a trick the current you’d been grown men when you joined
played as the tide bore her away, but to these Devil-worshippers it would have
us seemed that her dead hand pointed
it been more serious, but college boys are
to usgach in turn; certainly there was no always in some sort of mischief, and this
doubt it bobbed four times above the all happened twenty years ago. You say

you are sincerely sorry for it, and after all.

river’s surface
sucked it
before the swirling waters
out of sight. the leaders in the movement died, so—
—
"You’ve probably heard garbled ru- Balderson broke through my moraliz-
mors of what happened afterward. The ing with a short, hard laugh. "Men die
W, T.—l
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 273

more easily than memories, Doctor. Be- ing from her hair, and her hands held
”
sides out to me ’

"
"Yes, Monsieur, besides?" de Grandin ‘You’re crazy as a goat!’ I told him.

prompted as our guest stared silently into Come have a drink.’

the study fire. "He looked at me a moment, then
turned away, walking quickly down the
"Do you believe the spirits of the dead
— diedead who are in Hell, or at least
street and muttering to himself.
cut off from Heaven can come back to — it
"I’d not
if I
have thought so much about
hadn’t read about his suicide next
plague the living?" he demanded.
day, and if Stanley Trivers hadn't called
me on the telephone. 'Hear about Ted Eld-
D E grandin brushed the ends of his
small waxed mustache with that ges-
ture which always reminded me of a tom-
ridge?’
hello.
he asked the moment
When I told him
I

I’d just read

had said

about it he demanded: 'Did you see him

cat combing his whiskers. "You have ex-
perienced such a visitation?"
— recently?’
"
'Yes, ran into him in Broad Street
"I have. So did the others.”
yesterday,' I answered.
"
Mordieu How was it?” "
'Seemed worried, didn’t he? Did he
"You may remember reading that Ted tell you anything about Marescha?’
Eldridge hanged himself? Three days be- "
'Say, what is this?’ I asked. 'Did he
fore it happened, he met me on the street,
’

say anything to you

"
and I could see that he was almost frantic. 'Yes, he did, and I thought he had
'I saw Marescha last night!’ he told me a belfry full o’ bats.’
in a frightened whisper. "
'There’s not much doubt the poor old
"
’Marescha? You must be off your lad w'as cuckoo
’

"
rocker, man! We put her in the Shrew's -
'That’s where you're mistaken, Bal-
'

bury derson. According to the paper he’d been

"
'And she’s come back again. Re- dead for something like four hours when
member the perfume of the candles and they found him. That would have made
the incense Herbules used in celebrating it something like four o’clock when he
the Black Mass? I’d come home from died.’
"
New York last night, and w'as getting ’So what?’
"
ready for a drink before I went to bed, 'So this: waked up at four o’clock
I

when I began to smell it. At first I this morning, and the room was positively
thought it w'as some fool trick that my stifling with the odor of the incense they
’
senses played on me, but the scent kept used in the Black Chapel
"
getting stronger. It seemed as if I were 'Yeah? I suppose you saw Marescha,
back in that dreadful chapel with the tall too?’
"
black candles burning and the hellish in- ‘I She was standing by my bed,
did!
cense smoldering, Herbules in his red with w'ater streaming from her face and
vestments and Marescha lying naked on body, and tears were in her eyes’
the altar — I could almost hear the chant- "I tried to talk him out of it, tell him
ing of inverted prayers and the little that it w'as a trick of his imagination
whimpering noises that she made. I stimulated by Ted Eldridge’s wild talk,
gulped my drink down in two swallows but he insisted that he’d really seen her.
and turned round. She was standing Two days later he committed suicide.
there, wr ith water on her face and stream- "Don Atkins followed. I didn’t talk
W. T.— 2
274 WEIRD TALES
withhim before he shot himself, but I’ll window- weights on her still bound about
wager that he saw her, too, and smelled her ankles, water oozing from their coils.

that Devil's incense.” She did not seem dead. Her lovely slen-
DeGrandin looked at me with up- der body seemed as vital as when I had

raised brows, then shook his head to cau- held it in my arms, her full and mobile
tion silence ere he turned to face our lips were red with rouge, her eyes were
?” he neither set and staring nor expressionless.
guest. "And you, Monsieur asked.
"Yes, I too. Don killed himself some- But they were sad, immeasurably sad.

time in early afternoon, and I was home They seemed to probe into my spirit's

that day. I’d say that it was shortly after very depths, asking, beseeching, entreat-
two, for I’d lunched at the City Club and ing. And to make their plea more elo-

come home to pack a bag and take a trip quent, she slowly raised her lovely hands

to Nantakee. I had the highboy open and held them out to me, palms upward,
and was taking out some shirts when I fingers slightly curled, as though she be-
began to notice a strange odor in the air. sought alms.
But it wasn’t strange for long; as it grew "There was a faint resemblance to her

stronger I recognized it as the scent of bitter, crooked smile upon her lips, but
Herbules’ incense. It grew so strong that it was so sad, so hopelessly entreating,

it was almost overpowering. I stood there that it almost made me weep to see it.
"
by the chest of drawers, smelling the in- 'Mar ’
I began, but the name
creasing scent, and determined that I’d stuck in my throat. This couldn’t be the

not turn round. You know how Cole- body that I’d held against my heart, those
ridge puts it: lips were not the lips I’d kissed a thou-
sand times; this was no girl of flesh and
Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread, blood. Marescha lay deep in a grave in
And having once turned round, walks on. Shadow Lawns Cemetery; had lain there
And turns no more his head
Because he knows a frightful fiend almost twenty years. Dust had filled those
Dorh close behind him tread . . .
sad, entreating eyes long before the col-
"The odor of grew
the incense until I lege freshmen of this year were born.
could have sworn somebody swung a cen- The worms . . .

ser right behind me. Then, suddenly, I "Somewhere I had heard that if you
heard the sound of falling water. Drip
'
— called upon the Trinity a ghost would
—
drip drip!’ it fell upon the floor, drop vanish. 'In the name of the Father
*

by deliberate drop. The suspense was I began, but it seemed as if a clap of

more than I could bear, and I wheeled thunder sounded in my ears.
"
about. "What right have you to call upon
"Marescha stood behind me, almost the Triune God?’ a mighty voice seemed
close enough to touch. Water trickled asking. ’You who have mocked at

from the hair that hung in gleaming Heaven, taken every sacred name in vain,
strands across her breast and shoulders, made a jest of every holy thing —how
it hung in little gleaming globules on her dare you invoke Deity? Your sacrilegious
pale, smooth skin, ran in little rivulets lips cannot pronounce the sacred name!’
across her forehead, down her beautifully "And it was true. I tried again, but

shaped legs, made tiny puddles on the the words clogged in my throat; I tried
polished floor beside each slim bare foot. to force them out, but only strangling
I went almost sick with horror as I saw inarticulacies sounded.
the knotted cords we’d used to tie the "Marescha’s smile was almost pityingly
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 275

tender, but still she stood there pleading, "Non, there you are mistaken, mon
entreating, begging me, though what it ami," de Grandin contradicted. "Had
was she wanted I could not divine. I you carried your intention out and leaped
threw my arm across my eyes to shut the into the river you would have sealed your
vision out, but when I took it down she doom irrevocably. Instead of leaving her
was still there, and still the water dripped you would have joined her for eternity.”
from her entreating hands, ran in little "All right,” Balderson asked rasping-
courses from her dankly-hanging hair, ly, "I suppose you have a better plan?”
fell drop by drop from the sopping cords "I think I have,” the little Frendiman

that ringed her ankles. answered. "First, I would suggest you

let us give you sedatives. You will not be
"T stumbled blindly from the house troubled while you sleep, and while you
-* and walked the streets for hours. rest we shall be active.”
Presently I bought a paper, and the head-
lines told me Donald Atkins had been “Qhakespeare was right," I said as
found, a suicide, in his apartment. O we left our patient sleeping from a
"When I reached my house again the dose of chloral hydrate. "Conscience does
incense still hung in the air, but the vision make cowards of us all. The memory of
of Marescha was not there. I drank al- that early indiscretion has haunted that
most a pint of brandy, neat, and fell quartet of worthless youngsters twenty
across my bed. When I recovered from years. No wonder they kept seeing that
my alcoholic stupor Marescha stood beside poor girl after they’d thrown her so cal-
me, her great eyes luminous with tears, lously into the Shrewsbury. Of all the
”
her hands outstretched in mute entreaty. heartless, despicable things
"She’s been with me almost every wak- He
emerged from a brown study long
ing instant since that night.
drank myself I enough to interrupt: "And is your con-
into oblivion, but every time I sobered science clean, my friend?”
she was standing by me. I’d walk the "What has my conscience to do with it?

streets for hours, but every time I halted I didn't throw a dead girl in the river;
”
she would be there, always silent, always I didn’t
with her hands held out, always with that "
Preasement neither did the good
look of supplication in her tear-filled eyes. Costello, yet both of you described the
I'd rush at her and try to drive her off odor of that Devil’s incense: Costello
with blows and kicks. She seemed to when he went to view the bodies of the
float away, staying just outside my reach, suicides, you when we halted Monsieur
however savagely I ran at her, and though Balderson’s attempt at self-destruction.
I cursed her, using every foul word I Were you also haunted by that scent, or
knew, she never changed expression, were you not?”
never showed resentment; just stood and "I smelled responded frigidly,
it,” I
looked at me with sad, imploring eyes, "but I wasn’t haunted by it. Just what
always seeming to be begging me for is it you’re driving at?”
something. "That the odor of that incense, or even
"I can’t endure it any longer, gentle- the perception of the dead Marescha’s
men. Tonight she stood beside me when revenant, is no optical illusion caused by

I halted on North Bridge, and I’d have guilty conscience. It is my firm conviction
been at peace by now if you’d not come that the apparition which appeared to
”
along these unfortunate young men was the
27 6 WEIRD TALES
earthbound spirit of a girl who begged a "Macs certainement, clergymen and
boon from them.” doctors, they have no privacy, my friend.
"Then you don’t think that she haunted Surely, you need not be told that."
them because they'd thrown her body in
the river?”
"Entirely no.
their help, and
I think she
in their fear
came to ask
and horror
T
study,
he
ly
freshly lighted fire burned bright-
in the Reverend Peter Bentley’s
the blue smoke spiraled upward
at beholding her they could not under- from the tips of our cigars, the gray
stand her plea. First one and then an- steam curled in fragrant clouds from the
other, lashed with the scorpion-whip of glasses of hot Scotdi which stood upon
an accusing conscience, destroyed himself the coffee-table. Looking anything but
because he dared not look into her plead- clerical in red-flannel bathrobe, black pa-
ing eyes, thinking they accused him of jamas and red Turkish slippers, Doctor
mistreating her poor body, when all the Bentley listened with surprizing tolerance
pauvre belle creature asked was that they to de Grandin’s argument.
help her to secure release from her earth- "But it seems the poor girl died in
bound condition.” mortal sin," he murmured, obviously
"Why should she have appealed to more in sorrow than in righteous indig-
them?” nation. "According to your statement, her
"In all that congregation of benighted last frantic words called on the Devil to

worshippers of evil, she knew them best. fulfill his bargain: 'O Lord, be piti-

They saw her die, they gave her body ful

sepulture; one of them, at least,had been Precise ment , mon pere, but who can
her lover, and was, presumably, bound to say her prayer was made to Satan?
True,
her by ties of mutual passion. She was those so bewildered, misled followers of
most strongly in their minds and memo- evil were wont to call the Devil Lord and

ries. It was but natural that she should Master, but is it not entirely possible that
appeal to them for succor. Did not you she repented and addressed her dying
notice one outstanding fact in all the prayer to the real Lord of the heaven
—
testimony the poor Marescha appeared and earth? Somewhere an English poet
to them in turn, looking not reproach- says of the last-minute prayer of a not-
fully, but pleadingly? Her lips were held, wholly-righteous fox-hunter who was un-
she might not put her plea in words. She horsed and broke his sinful neck:
could but come
them as they had last
to Betwixt the stirrup and the ground
l mercy asked ; mercy l found.
beheld her, entreat them by dumb show,
and hope that they would understand. "Me, I believe in all sincerity that her
One by one they failed her; one by one repentance was as true as that the thief
”
they failed to understand upon the cross expressed; that in the last
"Well, is there anything that we can dread moment she perceived the grievous
do about it?” error of her ways and made at once con-
"I think there is. Come, let us be upon fession of sin and prayer for pity with
our way.” her dying breath.
”
"Where the deuce "But she had bent the knee at Satan's
"To the rectory of St. Chrysostom. I shrine. With her fair body —
that body
would interview the Reverend Doctor which was given her to wear as if it were
Bentley.” a garment to the greater glory of the Lord
"At this time of night?” —she parodied the sacred faircloth of the
 INCENSE OF ABOMINATION 277

altar. By such things she had cut herself

adrift, she had put herself beyond com-
munion with the righteous which is the
T he penitential sendee in the
of the Intercession
most impressive one. Only Balderson, I
w as a
r
Chapel
brief but

blessed company of all the faithful. and de Grandin occupied the pews, with
There was no priest to shrive her sin- Doctor Bentley in his stole and cassock,
encumbered soul, no one to read words of but without his surplice, at the little altar:

forgiveness and redemption above her ". . . we have followed too much the
lifeless clay. Until some one of her com-
devices and desires of our own hearts, we
panions in iniquity will perform the serv- have offended against Thy holy laws . . .

ice of contrition for her, until the office remember not, Lord, our offenses nor the
for the burial of Christian dead is read
offenses of our forefathers, neither take
above her grave, she lies excommunicate Thou vengeance of our sins ... we ac-
and earthbound. She cannot even expiate knowledge and bewail our manifold sins
her faults in Purgatory till forgiveness of and wickednesses; the memory of them
sins has been formally pronounced. Sin-
is grievous unto us, the burden of them
cerely repentant, hell is not for her; un- is intolerable ...”
shrived, and with no formal statement of
After absolution followed the short
conditional forgiveness, she cannot quit
service ordered for the baptism of adults;
the earth, but must wander here among
then we set out for Shadow Lawns.
the scenes of her brief and sadly misspent
life. Do we dare withhold our hands to
Now Doctor Bentley wore his full ca-
nonicals, and his surplice glinted almost
save her from a fate like that?"
whiter than the snow that wrapped the
Doctor Bentley sipped thoughtfully at mounded graves as he paused beside an
his hot Scotch. "There may be something unmarked hillock in the Nurmi family
in your theory,” he admitted. "I’m not plot.
especially strong on doctrine, but I can’t
Slowly he began in that low, full
believe the fathers of the early church
voice with which he fills a great church
were the crude nincompoops some of our
to its comer: "I am the resur-
farthest
modem theologians call them. They
rection and the life, saith the Lord; he
preached posthumous absolution, and
that believeth in me, though he were
there are instances recorded where ex-
dead, yet shall he live. ..."
communicated persons who had hovered
It was one of those still winter days,
round the scenes they’d known in life
quieter than an afternoon in August, for
were given rest and peace when absolu-
tion was pronounced above their graves.
no chirp of bird or whir of insect sounded,
Tell me, Balderson sincerely sorry
no breath of breeze disturbed the ever-
is this
greens; yet as he read the opening sen-
for his misdeeds?”
tence of the office for the burial of the
"I could swear it, mon pbc!’ dead a low wail sounded in the copse of
"Then bring him to the chapel in the yew and hemlock on the hill, as though
morning. If he will make confession and a sudden wind moaned in the branches,
declare sincere repentance, then submit and I stiffened as a scent was borne across
himself to holy baptism, I'll do what the snow-capped grave mounds. Incense!
you request. It’s rather mediaeval, but Yet not exactly incense, either. There
I’d hate to think that I’m so modem that I was an undertone of fetor in it, a faint,
would not take a chance to save two distinctly charnel smell. Balderson was
souls." trembling, and despite myself I flinched.
278 WEIRD TALES
but Doctor Bentley and de Grandin gave would have sent him packing and bid
no sign of recognition. him work out his salvation or damna- —
"Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of tion — for himself. There’s an essential
our hearts, shut not Thy merciful ears to nastiness in Devil-worship which is re-

our prayer, but spare us, Lord most holy volting to the average man, not to men-
’’

. .intoned the clergyman, and, tion its abysmal wickedness

"
"Amen,’’ said Jules de Grandin firmly Tiens who of us can judge another’s
as the prayer concluded. wickedness?" the little Frenchman an-
The Aiolian wailing in the evergreens swered. "The young man was repentant,
died to a sobbing, low clamation as Doc- and repentance is the purchase price of
tor Bentley traced in sand a cross upon heavenly forgiveness. Besides" a look —
the snow-capped grave, declaring: "Unto
Almighty God we commend the soul of into his eyes
—
of strain, like a nostalgic longing, came
"before die altar of a con-
our departed sister, and we commit her vent in la belle France kneels one whom
body to the ground: earth to earth, ashes I have loved as I can never love another
to ashes, dust to dust, in the sure and in this life. Ceaselessly, except the little
certain hope of the Resurrection into eter- time she sleeps, she makes prayer and
nal life ” intercession for a sinful world. Could I

And now there was no odor of corrup- hold fast the memory of our love if I

tion in the ghostly perfume, but the clean, refused to match in works the prayer she
inspiring scent of frankincense, redolent makes in faith? Eh bien, mon pere, my
of worship at a thousand consecrated inclination was to give him a smart kick
altars. in the posterior; to bid him go and sin
As the last amen was said and Doctor no more, but sinfully or otherwise, to go.
Bentley turned away I could have sworn Ha, but I am strong, me. I overcame that
I heard a gentle slapping sound and saw inclination.”
the blond hairs of de Grandin’s small The earnestness of his expression faded
mustache bend inward, as though a pair and an impish grin replaced it as he
of lips invisible to me had kissed him on poured a liberal potion of Napoleon 1811
the mouth. in his brandy-sniffer. "Jules de Grandin,"
he apostrophized himself, "you have acted

D
we
octor Bentley dined with
night, and over coffee and liqueurs
discussed the case.
us that like a true You have overcome your
man.
you have kept the faith.
natural desires;
"Jules de Grandin, my good and much-
"It was a fine thing you did,’’ the admired self —
be pleased to take a
cleric told de Grandin, "Six men in seven drink!"
 WEIRD TALES 279

Vhe

By
P
C/oe
ROBERT
oets
E. HOWARD
Out of the somber night the poets come,
A moment brief to fan their lambent flame;

Then, like the dimming whisper of a drum.

Fade back into the night from whence they came.

The gray fog, swirling cloak of cynic Time,

Meshes achievement in the ages’ glomb,
A moment’s mirth, a breath of lilting rime.

And then —the gray of old oblivion’s womb.

Weaver of melodies all golden-spun

—
The singer sings his song and passes on.
—
The poet strums his lyre then is one
With gray-hued dusk and rose of fading dawn.:

A moment’s laughter on the winds of Time,

A moment’s ripple on Time’s silent sea,
A golden riffle in the river’s slime,
And then — the silence of Eternity.

Gray dust and ash where leaped the mystic fire,

Mingled with air and wind the once-red flame;

Breeze-borne the tune, but now forgot the lyre
Remains? —the musty thing that men call Fame.

Half-curious eyes that scan the yellowed page,

All heedless of the makers of the feast
Why, Pierrot might have been a musty sage,

Francois Villon a staled and sour priest.

Who penned this lyric? Who this sonnet? Whence

The soul on fire that snared these stars in song?

Who knows? Who cares? A vast indifference

Is all the answer of the marching throng.

 on the Floor
By THORP McCLUSKY
A strange story of an unscrupulous hypnotist and the frightful thing that he
called Stepan, who was immune to destruction while
his master lived

1. Charlatan or Miracle-Man the iron-grilled window at the row of

dw'arf evergreens in their stone window-
“ ARLING,” Mary Roberts told box beneath the sill. Discreetly, from its
[
S her fiance, "I'm sorry, but I palm-hidden sound shell on the mezza-
won’t be able to go to the Lily nine, the hotel’s string quintet began to
Pons recital Thursday night. Helen play a Strauss waltz. Abruptly Mary
Stacey-Forbes insists that I go with her to turned back to her fiance, a strange little

Dmitri's.” smile trembling on her lips.

Across the spotless linen and gleaming "Oh, Charles, I wish that I could be so
silver that graced their luncheon table sure. Yes, you’re probably right about
Charles Ethredge’s gray eyes questioned. Dmitri, darling. He’s certainly theatrical
“It’s a subscription concert, Mary. I’ve —
enough even Helen admits that. But
had the tickets for months.” you wouldn’t want me to disappoint her,
Her slender right hand reached across would you? And she does say he’s saved
the table to "I'm terribly sorry,
him. Ronny’s life.”

Charles. But Helen has been after me for "Lord,” Ethredge grumbled, "I wish
weeks to/ go, and Dmitri’s evenings are to heaven Dmitri didn’t have that Vienna
”
always Thursdays degree; we’d stop him so fast his teeth’d
Ethredge grimaced. ”1 think it’s rath- rattle. And by the way, where did Helen
er silly of you two — this thrill visit to an Stacey-Forbes get the crazy notion that
obvious charlatan.” he’s helped Ronny? Good grief, that fel-

Mary shook her head. "Helen Stacey- low’s healthier than I am.”
Forbes doesn’t think Dmitri a charlatan. "Ronny’s really been ill, Charles. It’s
She swears by the man —
claims he’s done not generally known, but he’s a hemo-
wonders for Ronny.” philiac; he’s had several severe hemor-

Ethredge laughed. "Dmitri not a char- rhages within the past year. Dmitri’s the
latan? With his half-baked parlor magic only man who’s been able to do anything
and that moving-picture brand of mysti- for him.”

cism he exudes? I’ve heard all about him. Ethredge looked startled. "Why, I’d
Doc Hanlon says that if he isn’t exposed always thought hemophilia was heredi-
major rabies epi-
pretty soon there’ll be a tary; I’ve never heard of it in Ronny’s

demic among 'our local psychiatry.” family before. Tw o years ago, at the Wil-
;

For a moment Mary Roberts did not mot’s hunt, he w'as thrown, and pretty
reply, but sat quietly, her delicately oval badly bruised and cut, but he was up and
face profiled, her wide-set, limpid eyes limping around the same evening. He
thoughtful as she gazed musingly through even danced.”
280
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 281

Mary shook her head. "I don’t know; 2. The Spider and the Flies

I’m no medical authority, Charles, but

hemophilia, all right. It’s been diag- and the man is a perfect ghoul
it’s

nosed as such several times within the

about money. You know most of the
” people here, Mary; you wouldn’t say that
past year. Why
any were really poor, would you?”
But Charles Ethredge was not really Mary Roberts looked about room
this
listening. He was recalling some of the in which she sat. It was a long room, ex-
vague, ugly stories he had heard, in re- tending the full length of the second
cent months, of Dmitri Vassilievitch Tu- floor of a brownstone, solidly aristocratic
lin — -stories which could not all be put house; obviously two interior walls had
down to professional jealousy. And, curi- been demolished to provide the single
ously, he was thinking of the twenty- large chamber. The wall to Mary’s left,
years -dead Tsarevitch, and of a mad abutting the adjoining house, was blank;
monk named Gregori Rasputin. . . . red velvet drapes covered the windows
282 WEIRD TALES
at the ends of the room. Three doors, ir- trist who's had rather spectacular luck

regularly spaced along the right-hand with a few rich patients’ imaginary ail-
ments. But carcinoma !”
wall, led into the second-floor corridor.
A ponderous oaken table and chair stood Gravely Helen Stacey-Forbes shook her
dose to the drapes at one end of the head. "Dmitri’s far greater than his
room; about sixty folding-chairs were ar- enemies will admit. They call him a
ranged rows facing these grim-
in orderly super-psychologist, a faith-healer, and
ly utilitarian furnishings. Perhaps thirty they laugh at him and threaten him, but
persons, the great majority of whom were the fact remains that his methods suc-
women, sat in small, self-conscious groups ceed. He achieves cures, impossible cures,
about the room, talking among them- miraculous cures. I know, because he’s
selves in low tones. Occasionally someone the only man who can stop Ronny’s
laughed — nervous laughter that was hemorrhages. At five thousand dollars a
quickly suppressed. treatment.”
Dmitri’s evenings, Mary Roberts sus- "Five thousand dollars!”
pected, were not particularly pleasant Helen laughed, a dry, bitter little

affairs. . . . laugh. "Believe me, Dmitri is a monster,

Mary knew these people. One or two not a man. Mortimer Dunlop will have
were really ill, several were suffering to pay dearly for his carcinoma cure!”
from neuroses, a few were crackpot fad- The words sent an odd little shudder
dists, but the majority were merely out for racing along Mary's spine. For, obvious-
a thrill. And all were wealthy. ly, Helen Stacey-Forbes believed, believed
The man Dmitri, Mary decided as she implicitly, that Dmitri could cure cancer! —
looked about, must be, even if a charla- Suddenly, then, the room was silent.
tan, certainly a personality. . . . The door at the upper end of the cham-
She turned, with a wry smile, to her ber had opened, a man had entered.
friend.
"This gathering surely makes me feel N the abrupt stillness the man, small,
like a poor little church-mouse,” she ad- I self-effacing, bearing in his hands a
mitted ruefully. "Father was never a large lacquered tray, walked to the oaken
financial giant, you know, Helen.” table and arranged upon it several articles
Helen Stacey-Forbes smiled reassur- — a half-dollar, a pair of pliers, a penny
ingly- box of matches, a small-caliber automatic
"Money buy character and breed-
can't pistol, a ten-ounce drinking-glass, a tin-
ing, my dear. old Mortimer Dunlop
I see kling pitcher of ice-water, and a battered
up there in the second row; you are wel- gasoline blow-torch. A curious, incom-
come in homes he’s never seen and never prehensible array. . . .

will see —
except from the street. Damned The little man left the room. The
old bucket-shop pirate! Have you heard the babble of nervous voices began again, as
rumor that he's full of carcinoma? They’re suddenly stopped when the door re-
giving him from sue to nine months to opened and a monstrosity entered.
Eve. That must be why he’s here; some- The man was huge. At least six feet
”
one’s told him about Dmitri three inches tall, he was as tremendous
Mary gasped. "And people believe horizontally as vertically. A mountain of
that Dmitri can cure carcinoma? Why, flesh swathed in a silken lounging-robe,
—
it's Charles said only the other day that he slowly walked to the table, and settled,
Dmitri was merely a half-cracked psychia- grunting, into the big oaken chair. In-
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 283

Stantly immobile,he surveyed the room unchanged; the strange force which ac-
through small, coal-black eyes set close tivated him has found its material shell
together in a pasty-white face. Obscene no longer tenable, and has taken its de-
of body and countenance, his forehead parture.
was nevertheless magnificent, but his "We are all well acquainted with the
scalp, even to tire sides of his head, was axiomatic law of physics which deals with
utterly bald. Beneath the table his pillar- the conservation of energy. But here we
like ankles showed whitely above Gargan- reach a paradox — either energy must have
tuan house-slippers. been non-existent at one time, or it must
This this, Mary Roberts knew, was be eternal — contradictory and utterly ir-

Dmitri. . . . reconcilable concepts. The logical and the

Leisurely the monster poured a glass of only conclusion is plain: energy and mat-
water and took a tentative sip, the glass ter do not and have never existed. They
looking no larger than a jigger in his tre- are but temporary conceptions of an in-
mendous, flabby hand. An expression finite, timeless Mind, a Mind of whidi
thatmight have been a smile or a leer — we are part
”

— rippled momentarily across his fat-en- There was a sudden snort from the
gulfed features, revealed an instant’s second row. "Rubbish! What’s all this
glimpse of startlingly white teeth. He jabber got to do with me? I came here
began to speak to be cured, not to be preached at!”
"I see a number of new faces before The colossus slowly poured a glass of
me today,” he began in a voice incongru- ice-water.
ously, almost shockingly vibrant and "Sir, you must understand — if you
beautiful; Enrico Caruso’s speaking voice, possess sufficient intelligence — that I can
Mary thought must have sound- do nothing for you without your help.”
ed like that
—suddenly,
"and the for of benefit The bulbous lips writhed in a half-smile.
those who are not already familiar with "You have been rude, my friend —should
my theories I will repeat, briefly, my con- I decide to treat your carcinoma I will
ception of the function of the Will in leave you the poorer man by half your
the treatment of disease.” fortune before you are cured. That pros-
He paused, sipped meagerly from his pect, at least,you can understand.”
glass of ice-water. Then he w'ent on, Mortimer Dunlop, his seamed face
his speech only faintly stilted, only faintly livid with rage, got hastily to his feet and
revealing him a man to whom English strode to the center door. He jerked the
was an acquired language: door open, slammed it behind him as he
"Speaking in the philosophical —not stormed from the room.
the chemical — sense, it is my belief that Unperturbed, Dmitri continued, "Mind
there is but one fundamental element came before matter; mind is the great
abstract mind. Of course, that which we motivator. Mind can conceive matter;
term matter is, in the last analysis, energy; matter cannot conceive anything, even
there is no such thing as matter except itself.

as a manifestation of energy. Yet it is "It is evident to any person who care-

quite obvious, or it should be obvious, at fully considers these conclusions that in
any rate, that mind — that attribute which each one of us exists a spark, part and
we wrongfully confuse with conscious- parcel of that great intangible Will which
ness — is totally independent of matter. A created all things. But this reasoning in-
man dies, but his atomic weight remains variably leads to a conclusion so tremen-
284 WEIRD TALES
dous that the human consciousness, except “Despite myself, my eyes flinch from the
"
in rare instances, rejects it, flame
“The conclusion is plain. The unfet- “Very well.” Dmitri’s voice was casual
tered Will, by and of itself, can work and low. “Relax, little one, and sleep.
”
miracles, move mountains, create and de- Sleep soundly
stroy! He turned from his servant and picked
“Listen carefully, for Coue and Pavlov up the fifty-cent piece. Turning it over
and your own J.
B. Watson were closer and over in the fingers of his left hand
to the truth than they knew. . . . he began to speak, slowly.
“I pick up this coin, and I place it upon “I have told this subject’s subconscious
my wrist, so. Now I suggest to myself that its body is invulnerable to physical
that it is very hot. But my conscious injury. Watch!”

knows that it is not hot, and so I merely The little man was sitting erect in the
appear, to myself and to you all, a trifle massive chair. His eyes were closed, his
foolish. face immobile. Dmitri stooped, lifted an
“Nevertheless, any hypnotist can sug- arm, let it fall.

gest to a pre-hypnotized subject that the “You are not yet sleeping soundly,
coin is indeed hot, and the subject’s flesh Stepan. Relax and sleep —sleep
”

will blister if toudied with this same cold Slowly the muscles in the little man’s
coin! . . . face loosened, slowly his mouth drooped,
”
’'Now I will call my servant half open. Small bubbles of mucus ap-
peared at the corners of his lips.

lacing his two enormous, shapeless Dmitri seemed satisfied. Quietly, sooth-
P hands on the table, Dmitri heaved
himself to his feet, and a tremendous bel-
ingly,he spoke.-
“Can you hear me?”
low issued from his barrel-like chest. The man’s lips moved. “I can hear
That summons, though the words were you.”
lost in a gulf of sound, was unmistakable, “Who am I?”
and presently the door opened and the The answer came slowly, without in-
little man, prim and neat and wholly a “You are the Voice that Speaks
flection.

colorless personality, entered. from Beyond the Darkness.”

“Yes, Master.” Dmitri loomed above the chair. "You
Dmitri stood beside the table, his right remember the truths that I have taught
hand resting heavily on the polished oak. you?”
“Sit down, little Stepan.” “Master, I remember.”
The small man, the ghost of a pleased “You believe?”
smile on his peasant face, sat down prim- “Master, I believe. You have told me
ly in the oaken chair and looked about thatyou are infallible.”
the room with child-like pleasure. Ob- Dmitri straightened triumphantly and
viously he was enjoying to the uttermost surveyed his silent audience. Suddenly,
his small moment. then, a roaring streamer of bluish flame
“You would prefer the sleep, little lanced across the room. Dmitri had set
one? It is not necessary; we have been the gasoline torch alight.
through this experiment many times to- A woman was babbling hysterically.
gether, you and I." But above the steady moan of the flame
"I would prefer the sleep, Master,” the Dmitri said loudly, “There is no cause
little man said, widi a slight shudder. for alarm. Now, observe closely. I am
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 285

going to go far beyond the ordinary servant’s face, held it there for a moment
”
hypnotist’s procedure that seemed an eternity. Then he turned
a valve, and the hot flame died.
He carefully picked up, with the pliers,
the fifty-cent piece. For a long moment Though the man Stepan’s face was
he let the moaning flame play on the coin, streaked with carbon soot, the flesh was

until both coin and plier-tips glowed smooth and unharmed as though the blue
angrily. flame had never been!

Calmly, without warning, he dropped Dmitri looked at his guests, and

the burning coin on his servant's naked chuckled!
wrist! "One more test,” he boomed, tKen,
A woman screamed. But, then, gasps "and we will turn to more pleasant things.
of relief eddied from the tense audience. Believe me when I tell you that these hor-

For, although the glowing whiteness of rors are necessary if you would have faith

the coin had scarcely begun to fade into in me.” He picked up the small auto-
cherry-red, the man Stepan had shown no matic pistol. "Will someone examine this

sign that he felt pain! There was no weapon, assure you all that it is fully
stench of burning flesh in the room. Even loaded?”
the fine hairs on the back of the servant’s No one offered to touch the gun.
wrist, hairs that touched and curled deli- Dmitri shrugged. "Do not doubt me;
cately above the burning coin, showed not the weapon is loaded, and with lethal
the slightest sign of singeing! ammunition.” He wheeled, and for an
Dmitri’s face was an obese smirk. instant the gun hammered rapidly, and

“In order that you may be convinced

on the breast of his servant’s shirt, over
the heart, there appeared suddenly a little
that this is neither illusion nor trickery,”
cluster of black-edged holes, beneath
he grunted, "watch!” Carefully he tapped
which the white flesh gleamed un-
the coin with the pliers, knocking it from
marked. . . .
the man’s wrist to the floor.

Around the coin’s glowing rim smoke Dmitri put down the gun and rubbed
his hands together affably.
began to rise. ...
"Should anyone care to examine the
Still smirking, Dmitri poured a half-
back of that chair, he will find all the
glass of ice-water on the red-hot coin,
bullets I have just fired, together with a
and the water hissed and fumed as it
great many others fired in previous ex-
There was
struck the incandescent metal.
periments.” He stooped over his still,
a little puff of thick smoke from the
pallid-faced servant. "You may awaken
burning wood, and now the coin was cold
now, Then,
— cold and black and seared.
little one.”
ridden group before him, "There will be
to the horror-

No scar marked the servant’s white refreshments and music immediately,

wrist!
downstairs. mingle among you,
I will
Dmitri rubbed his great, shapeless and you may ask me any questions you
hands together. And, shuddering, Mary wish.”
Roberts watched him, for she knew in- Stepan, the slight, wholly undistin-
stinctively that this was, indeed, no trick- guished-appearing servant, had risen from
ery. . . .
the chair and was holding wide the door.
Abruptly Dmitri lifted the roaring Slowly, regally, his master walked from
torch, thrust its fierce blast full in his the room. . . .
286 WEIRD TALES
3. The Hypnotic Lamp Mary Roberts flushed. "I was im-
pressed by your — demonstration,” she
“you must meet him, Maty.
really said hastily. "It was — spectacular.”
Sl He's —
an overwhelming
he’s such He lifted a monstrous, shapeless paw.
personality, and it would be rude, really, "Histrionics,” he said flatly. "My real

to avoid him now. See, he’s looking to- work does not deal with such fireworks.
”
ward us Would you be convinced? Are you in
Casually Mary Roberts turned her head. every respect sound and well?”
Across the long expanse of this almost Mary tried to repress the shudder of
flamboyantly oriental downstairs room in aversion that crept through her as she
whidi Dmitri’s guests had assembled looked at the man.
she saw the man. He was seated in a "I am in perfect health,” she said
massive, ivory-armed, dragon-footed chair, firmly.

and he was talking to a group of three Dmitri looked down at his great soft

or four women. But he was looking be- hands. Then he spoke, as it were casually,

yond them, speculatively, at Mary. to Helen Stacey-Forbes.

"Helen, I'm afraid of him. He’s — he’s "I —
have wanted since your brother
evil —
blasphemous !
’ ’
came to me a year ago —
to examine you,
Helen Stacey-Forbes only laughed. as well. You come from an old family;
"Blasphemous?” she echoed. "Nonsense! should you marry it is possible that you
He’s only years ahead of his time. Never would transmit to your children the hemo-
fear —
his interest in you will vanish as philia from which he suffers. Today is
soon as he learns that you can’t pay his a propitious day; your friend can accom-
outrageous fees.” She was already pany us while I interrogate you; then,
Mary’s arm linked in her own —threading should she need me at some future time
her way through die chatting throng. . . . she would not fear me — as she does
The colossus, as they approached, ab- now.”
ruptly cut short his conversation with the Helen Stacey-Forbes’ face was grave.
group of admiring ladies and turned his "I had thought —
of coming to you,” she
flabby bulk toward them. admitted. "Perhaps
?”
—
if Miss Roberts is

"They are thrill-seekers, Miss Stacey- willing

Forbes,” he exclaimed petulantly. "Still Mary objected only faintly. She was
— I have made appointments with two of wondering if perhaps Helen had not re-
them. . But
. . how is your brother, Ron- ally brought her here because she feared
ald? And who is your friend?” to be alone with this man. . . .

"Dmitri —Mary Roberts,” Helen Sta- "The — guests?”

cey-Forbes said formally. "Miss Roberts Dmitri glanced about the room, heaved
is the daughter of the Honorable James himself ponderously to his feet.

Roberts. . . . Ronald is well; he is very "The guests!” he exclaimed. "We will

careful not to endanger himself.” be but a few minutes. Those in need of
Dmitri chuckled. "Ronald is being me will wait; the others are better gone.
very careful, eh? Well, well but acci- — Come.”
dents sometimes happen and then there —
is only Dimitri.”
Mary. "You are very beautiful, my child;
our Police Commissioner Ethredge is a
He stared fixedly at
T
small
he chamber
ered the two young
room, almost
into which Dmitri ush-
women was a
monastically fur-

fortunate man indeed he is.” — nished. There was a large table and
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 287

Dmitri’s usual massive chair; several lights; even beneath the cold glow of the
other, smaller chairs were scattered hap- Mazda lamp had been a strange
they
hazardly about. A faded strip of carpet- symphony, but now, glowing and whirl-
ing ran diagonally from the door toward ing like a mighty nebula of spinning
the table. There were no pictures, no suns Her eyes were riveted upon
!

bookcases or books, no filing-cabinet or them; they seemed to draw her toward

desk. A telephone rested at one end of them, to suck her into themselves. . . .

the table, close beside an ambiguity that "Observe the lights, Miss Stacey-

— save for its grotesquely large bulb, full Forbes ” Mary knew that it was
of an uncommon multiplicity of filaments Dmitri’s voice, yet it sounded billions of

and several oddly shaped and curiously miles away. And, curiously, she believed
perforated metal vanes —looked like an for a fleeting instant that there was a new
unshaded desk-lamp. note in that slumbrous whisper —a hint
Dmitri lowered himself into his tre- of exultation. But the thought vanished
mendous chair. "Sit down,” he directed in its second of birth, lost amid the maze
abruptly. "Compose yourselves. You, of spinning lights —the lights that were
Miss Roberts, may watch this experiment; too, too beautiful. . . .

it is in no way new, yet it is always fasci-

nating. Notice this lamp; it is so designed 4. The Stolen jewels

that it emits whorls of multicolored light,
which move according
tern,
wheel.”
somewhat in the
to a recurrent pat-
manner of a pin- M
in the
rs. Gregory luce stood surveying
herself with pardonable satisfaction
almost-complete circle of full-

His hands, hidden beneath the table, length, chromium-framed mirrors that
touched a concealed switch, and the odd- glittered their utilitarian splendor in a
looking lamp began to glow in all its comer of her bedroom. It was well, she
many filaments, while simultaneously the was reflecting, that the electric-blue gown
complexity of tiny vanes began to revolve, fitted her with wrinkleless perfection, that
slowly at first and then faster and faster, her hair was a miracle even Francois had
until they had attained a maximum veloc- seldom achieved; today was her tenth
ity beyond which there was no further wedding anniversary, and tonight Greg-
acceleration. And as the filaments within ory was taking her to hear Tristan and
the lamp gradually warmed, Mary real- Isolde.
ized that they gave off light of many With sophisticated grace she returned
colors, as varied and as beautiful as the to her dressing-table and seated herself.
spectrum seen in rainbows, colors which In her walk, languid and self -appreciative
moved and changed in a weirdly hyp- though had been, there was neverthe-
it

notic sequence of patterns. . . . less avague essence reminiscent of Mary

"Observe the lamp, Miss Stacey- Roberts; Priscilla Luce might almost have
Forbes,” Dmitri said, in a calm, conversa- been a prophetic vision of Mary as she
tional tone. "Do not trouble to think would some day be their mothers were —
merely observe the lamp — see how the sisters. Only Priscilla w as a little more r

colors melt and run together and repeat the cautious type than was Mary: Priscilla
”
themselves again had selected her husband with an eye to
Abruptly the ceiling light was extin- the future; she did not wholly approve of
guished. And Mary Roberts gasped at Charles Ethredge. Otherwise the two
the unearthly beauty of the whirling young women were very much alike. . . ,
288 WEIRD TALES
Slowly, then, Priscilla Luce smiled. 5. Ethredge Hears Startling News
Surprizingly, her marriage
an emotional as well as a financial success;
she was truly grateful to and in love with
Gregory, now. There had been an un-
had turned out

W hen
B.
Police Commissioner Charles
Ethredge received
Luce’s enigmatic and disturbingly urgent
Priscilla

suspected tinge of romanticism in him, telephone call he lost no time in getting

after all; on their wedding day he had to the Vermont marble and Bethlehem
given her his grandmother’s emerald steel palace the Luce millions had built,
brooch, set with its great, flawless, square- ten years before, for Gregory Luce’s
cut stone —and the ruby and emerald young bride. "It concerns Mary, ter-
tiara. And today he had brought her a ribly,” his fiancee’s cousin had said, her
Cartier bracelet, also of cool green em- voice taut and strange, "but do not, under
eralds. . . . any circumstances, tell her that I have
called you.”
Languidly she arose and walked to the
Priscilla Luce met him in the library.
south wall. Here, between the two win-
She greeted him with grave gratitude; as
dows, hung a single, exquisite little etch-
soon as they were seated she began almost
ing. Priscilla Luce reached up, swung
bruskly to speak.
the etching back on cleverly concealed
hinges, twirled the combination of the
"I called you, Charles, because you are
both influential and discreet, and because
blued-steel wall-safe. . . .

you are vitally concerned in what I have

In the moment that she reached inside to say. Charles, do you know anything
the tiny safe PriscillaLuce knew that of a psychiatrist who came to town about
someone other than herself had handled
the little leather-bound jewel-cases within.
fourteen months ago — a man who calls
himself Dmitri?"
For a moment she stood stock-still. Ethredge nodded.
Then, carefully, she began to remove the "Why, yes, I have heard of him; Mary
jewel-cases, opening and examining each attended one of his Thursday evenings
one. a week or two ago with Helen Stacey-
Forbes. Helen is enthusiastic about what
When she had finished she walked to
he seems to have done for Ronald.”
the dressing-table and sat down. She
Priscilla Luce smiled thinly. "It seems
knew that she would not tell Gregory
strange that Ronald was never ill until
tonight; shewould wear the Cartier brace-
let,and he would not know; his evening
after he met this Dmitri. Do you know
anything more about the man?”
would not be spoiled. But she would
"Yes,” Ethredge grunted, "I do. Dmitri
have to tell him, tomorrow, and they
would have what
is a sensationalist. The more conservative
to decide to do. . . .

psychiatrists have tried to convict him of

The emerald brooch and the priceless extortion, of making Messianic and un-
old tiara were gone! fulfillable promises, of other unethical
And very clearly Priscilla Luce real-
and even criminal practises. As he is still
was someone they knew
ized that the thief
practising, their attempts, needless to say,
-someone they trusted. . . .
have all failed.”

She stared at herself in the mirror. Priscilla Luce nodded.

She was beginning to feel frightened, "What did Mary say about him?”
beginning to feel a sick, anticipatory Ethredge grinned.
dread. . . . "Very little. Said that she was amused
W. T. —
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 289

— that perhaps, beneath all his stage trap- tives — from Philadelphia.
”
Mary’s finger-
pings, the man might even be competent. prints
That’s all.” There was silence in that room, then,
Nervously Priscilla Luce leaned for- while Ethredge stared at Priscilla Luce’s

ward. slender, patrician hands, still clasping his

waists.
"Charles, obviously you don’t know
me "It was not in Mary to do this thing,"
that Mary has been after these past
he said at last, quietly. "There must be
two weeks to go to Dmitri’s with her.
some other explanation, however incred-
She hasn’t asked me merely a few times;
ible. Mary could never steal.’’
she’s asked me incessantly. I’ve always
refused —Gregory, as you know, would
The small hands touching his wrists

disapprove —and since last Friday she

trembled.
"Perhaps I was wrong about you, and
hasn’t askedme once. But last Thursday
Mary,” Priscilla Luce said softly. "I was
evening she went again to Dmitri’s. Did
you know?"
arrogant —and ambitious for her. I am
sorry.”
Ethredge’s mouth was grim. "I didn’t,
Suddenly her eyes welled with tears,
no."
the great drops falling like glistening
Priscilla Luce leaned forward and put diamonds on Ethredge’s hands. . . .

her hands pleadingly on Charles Eth-

redge’s lean strong wrists.
6. Ethredge Asks Help
"This is going to be hard, terribly
hard, to tell you. And please, Charles, “|3 eters, come to my apartment; I’ve
please understand that I have not come to got to talk to you."
you because you Mary’s fiance; I am
are Detective-Lieutenant Peters of the hom-
not as despicable as I have come tothat. icide squad, sitting with his square-toed
you because you arc the Commissioner of boots outsplayed on the scarred top of his
Police, because, if anyone can, you can Detective-Bureau desk, listened, his face
"
help her expressionless as stone, to the taut, nerve-
"In God’s name.” Ethredge whispered, racked voice of his chief. Calmly he
"
"what is wrong? Tell me spoke.
The woman’s face was drawn with "O. K., Commissioner; I’ll be right
miser)'. out." Carefully, leaning forward
from
"Between Thursday and last night last his hips, he set the telephone down.
For
Grandma Luce’s brooch and tiara were an instant he did not move; then he
stolen from my wall-safe. Only two per- sw'ung his feet to the floor and stood
sons know the combination to that safe, erect.His face, as he crossed the room
and of those two persons Gregory is toward the coat-rack, was still blankly
”
automatically absolved impassive.
"You suspect —Mary I" It was not a Yet within his skull his thoughts were
question; it was a statement — flat, life- seething. Through an instinct born of
less. And in Ethredge's heart was a slow- long association and mutual trust he knew
growing horror, for this thing Mary could that the Commissioner had at last de-
never have done; yet he knew, knew cided to confide in him; between the
already that her hands had taken the Commissioner and his subordinate there
jewels. . . . existed a peculiar — and byjnost persons
"Yes. Gregor)- has had private detec- unsuspected — friendship. . . .

W. T —3
290 WEIRD TALES
The distance to Ethredge's home was I would definitely disbelieve anything,
not great, and Peters, driving a police anything at all, you might tell me con-
sedan, covered it quickly. The Commis- cerning them. Dmitri? Certainly I be-
sioner, when he rang, let him in at once. lieve the stories I’ve heard about Dmitri.
Definitely, Peters saw at once, Ethredge. Tales of men dying of loathsome diseases
looked ill. But Peters knew, too, that after willing him their money — tales of
something far less easily defined than strange thefts and inexplicable gifts of
mere illness had kept the Commission- which he seems invariably the benefi-
er away from his desk these past few ciary.”
days. . . . Ethredge leaned forward.
"Drink?” Ethredge gestured toward a "Yet we can do nothing legally." —
nest of bottles and an array of glasses Peters shook his head.
"No, nothing
conveniently at hand. legally.”
"Thanks.” Peters helped himself to Ethredge spread out his hands and
two ounces of whisky, downed it neat. looked helplessly at them.
The men sat down. "Peters, I went to see the man. He has
"Peters," Ethredge began abruptly, Mary under his control; I’ve been watch-
"I'm up against something that I can’t ing her, following her about for days.
fight alone. And I can’t use the police, She doesn’t know, and I’m tired, tired
because I’ve no case that would convince almost to death; I’ve had to do it all my-
a jury; I’d be thought mad. Also, Mary self; I dared trust no one. Peters, a week

is involved, and her connection with this ago Mary took her cousin Priscilla Luce’s
affair must never become public knowl- jewels, and brought them to Dmitri; God
edge.” knows what he’s done with them. Since
Peters nodded. "Better tell me every- then she’s been trying to persuade Mrs.
thing, Commissioner." Leeds —Arthur Leeds’ widow to go to —
"Peters, can a hypnotist cure disease in Dmitri’s with her. God, I know that the
another man through subconscious sug- man’s a monster, yet I’m helpless against
gestion? Can an adept so control his sub- him.”
ject’s mind that that subject becomes his Ethredge paused, and slowly his hands
virtual slave, even to the extent of com- knotted into fists, relaxed.
mitting a theft? Can a hypnotist cause "Peters, when I went to see him he
his subject to suffer and die from a dis- laughed at me. More, he said that so long
ease which heretofore has not threatened as Mary had access to wealthy homes he
him?” would continue to use her, and that if I
Peters looked thoughtfully at the nest so much as attempted to interfere with
of bottles. him he would make her suffer, horribly.
"Sounds like Dmitri.” She was my vulnerability, he told me, and
"Yes,” Ethredge exclaimed hoarsely, she was his chattel.”
"it is Dmitri, damn him!” Peters lifted his drink to his lips.
Leisurely the Detective-Lieutenant rose, "A venomous fellow," he said softly,
poured a half-drink of amber-colored "and a strategist, as well.”
whisky, sat down again. “Yes,” Ethredge muttered. "I’m afraid
"Commissioner, hypnosis, the powers that he can do everything he says.”
of the will, the depths of the subcon- Peters set down the small glass, empty.
scious, are to a great extent unknowns "You are right. Undoubtedly he can
and limitless unknowns. I cannot say that do everything he says. And yet we are
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 291

men, and when men meet a poisonous My guests have gone; my orchestra is

serpent they squash it, and we must already drinking vodka within some wine-
squash Dmitri as pitilessly.” He paused, shop; only my servant remains v/ithin the
then slowly continued, "There might even house. You see that I am not afraid of
be a certain poetic justice in the method you.”
by which this may most safely be done. Abruptly he paused. For the door be-
Yes, I think so. I think that on Thursday hind Ethredge’ s shoulder had opened, and
evening you and I will be included among a man had stepped swiftly into the room,
Dmitri’s guests, and then we shall see closing the door behind him.
what we shall see.”
Dmitri’s cruel black eyes were suddenly
war)’.
7. The Spiders Lair
"Who are you? I recognize you; you

harles ethredge were among those at my demonstration,

C
room.
sat,

Dmitri’s small, first-floor consulting-

He sat poised tensely
alone,

on the very
in
but —you disappeared.
ing here?”
What are you do-

edge of his hard, uncomfortable chair. Peters grinned reassuringly at the Com-
As the minutes slowly passed his fingers missioner,spoke almost soothingly to
drummed, now and again, with a nerv- Dmitri. "There is a narrow space be-
ous, jerky rhythm on the top of Dmitri’s tween your orchestra dais and the wall,
massive table. Occasionally he glanced uncomfortable, yet a sufficient hiding-
swiftly about the barren room, but there place. Who am I? He shrugged slightly.

was little to attract his attention within "I am — of the police. Afraid that you
that tiny chamber; even the cryptic lamp might not agree to grant us a joint audi-

in the center of the table was dark and ence, I took the precaution of concealing
lifeless. And Ethredge was not really con- myself.”

cerned with the room in which he sat; For a moment Dmitri sat still. Then
his whole attention was focussed on the his fat shoulders heaved in a billowing
room adjoining, the theatrically oriental shrug, and he spoke almost scornfully.
reception chamber from which came, "One or two or a dozen of your kind;
faintly, the sensuous sobbing of Dmitri’s what does it matter? With your mujik
and the muffled mur-
balalaika orchestra here to lend you courage. Commissioner,
muring of departing guests. what do you propose now?”
One by one the voices dwindled, and The words were goading, taunting, and
at last even the music of the orchestra swiftly Peters signed to Ethredge to re-
ceased. There was the sound of brief main silent. Almost gently he murmured,
confusion as the musicians packed their "What do we propose now? Well,
instruments and took their departure, and Dmitri, we propose first that you release
then utter silence. Mary Roberts from whatever enjoinments
The door opened, and Dmitri, wearing you have placed upon her subconscious.”
his invariable lounging-robe and slippers, He paused, for the obese colossus was
entered. With slow, waddling shuffle he smiling.
crossed behind the table to his personal "Suppose that I refuse.”
diair, and carefully eased his flabby bulk Peters literally purred his reply, "You
into its capacious depths. are an intelligent man; I assure you that
"Very Commissioner Ethredge;
well, the police of this country have devised
we are alone together, as you requested. extremely piquant methods of making a
292 WEIRD TALES
man suffer, methods which we would not "Watch these men closely, Stepan, and
hesitate to employ upon you.” usher them from my house. Should they
For an instant the pupils of Dmitri’s attempt any tricks do not hesitate to

eyes dilated. Then, his voice blandly im- shoot. After all, they are here against
passive, he said, "You forget that, even if my will, and they have threatened me.”
I would, I could not, in her absence, re- The servant Stepan, only a slight tinge
lease Maty Roberts’ subconscious. I am of color in his cheeks revealing that he
not a story-book magician, and I cannot felt any interest whatever in the proceed-
command her conscious to come here. She ings, gestured with the small automatic.
will not come here again, except of her And in that instant Peters whipped to
own free will, unless she brings —another die floor, his hands grasped die end of
with her. And that will be only on a the strip of carpet on which Stepan stood,
Thursday. She did not come tonight; his body jerked backward.
would you wait here seven days for her His arms wildly flailing, Stepan
to present herself?” plunged to his hands and- knees; the
Slowly Peters smiled. "Mary Roberts, automatic skittered across the floor. And
at Commissioner Ethredge’s request, is suddenly Dmitri, half lifting himself
waiting in a small restaurant not far from from his chair, was babbling unintelli-
here. I will telephone her.” He rose, gible, fear-ridden words. Ethredge, as

took a step toward the table. Peters rose to his feet, had pounced upon
The colossus seemed to swell in his the outsplayed servant, pinioning him to
chair like an infuriated toad. ''Stop!” the floor; Peters, his right hand at his
His chest heaved, and from his cavernous hip, swung toward Dmitri.
alertly

interior there issued a half-shriek, half- "I’ve — got Peters,” Ethredge

him,
bellow that beat in that small room like gasped, the little man beneath him no
!"
the scream of an ape. "Stepan! Stepan match for the Commissioner’s sinewy
Peters’ hand flicked to his hip. But strength. And chill, shuddery horror ab-
Dmitri only smiled, smiled and shook his ruptly swept him as he realized that this
monstrous head. man lie touched, this squirming, writhing
"Your weapon will be of no avail thing beneath his hands, was invulnerable
against my Stepan.” to lead or to flame, a being that could be
overpowered, but that could not be de-
8. Stepan stroyed! " What’ll I do with him?"
Grimly Peters snarled, "Hold on to
bruptly the door opened, and the him. I’ll handle this death-ridden dia-

A k-

entered,
small, wholly self-effacing Stepan
glanced imperturbably about.
betic!”
His service automatic a blue-steel men-
He carried Dmitri’s small automatic pistol ace in his right hand, Peters walked to
in his right hand, and instinctively Peters’ the table. With his left hand he lifted
Angers moved, again, toward his hip, the receiver from the telephone and dialed
then paused helplessly as his mind re- a number. Warily he stooped over the
called with sudden sharp vividness the table as he spoke, presently, with Mary
incredible demonstration he had wit- Roberts. Then he cradled the receiver
nessed only a brief hour before. Too well and sat down, facing the colossus.
he knew that his gun was, indeed, power- "She will come here, at once.”
less to harm Stepan. . . . Seemingly, Dmitri had collapsed. His
Dmitri was grinning broadly. shapeless hands lay limply on the chair
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 293

arms, his great chest heaved gulpingly; night that you came here with Helen
only the snaky brightness in his darting Stacey-Forbes, Dmitri ensnared you. He
ebon eyes warned Peters that his tremen- cast a — spell over you. We have come
dous brain was thinking, planning, calcu- here, we have asked you to come here
lating with chain-lightning rapidity. The we are going to force him to release you.”

servant Stepan was only spasmodically Mary, staring at her sweetheart, was

struggling. frowning. Almost musingly she spoke.

Peters spoke abruptly to Ethredge. "I have had — terrible dreams,” she
‘'When Mary comes someone will have said, her voice low, “dreams in which he
to admit her. Can you keep this devil told me to do— strange things; dreams
covered while I go to the door?” in which I —obeyed him. But I believed
Ethredge, crouching across the serv- that they were only nightmares. And
ant’s chest, his knees crushing the man's yet,though I loathed him, I know that I
shoulders against die floor, nodded. . . . have surrendered to the strangest im-
Silence, on with interminable
rolling come here with me
pulse to ask others to
slowness, gripped the room. Gradually —Mrs. Arthur Leeds ”

the rattle of Dmitri’s breathing was grow- Ethredge’s eyes, as he glanced at

ing quiet; he sat now in his chair like Dmitri, were suddenly cruel. Then, gent-
some obscene, waiting idol, his face an ly,he spoke again to Mary.
undecipherable mask. “We must free you now, free you from
From beyond the tight-closed door a —
Dmitri for ever. But Peters believes
bell faindy tinkled. Peters edged toward that you will have to go, once more, be-
Ethredge, slipped his automatic into the neath his spell.”
Commissioner’s outstretched hand. Then For a long moment Mary stood there
he was gone. . . . quiet. Then, the words barely audible,
Dmitri did not move. A minute passed; she breathed, “Very well, Charles. I am
to Ethredge it seemed as though all the ready.”
suspense of myriad ages was bound up in Peters, who until this moment had been
that brief span. Then the door re-opened standing, hands in his jacket pockets,
and followed by Mary Roberts,
Peters, with his back against the door, advanced
re-entered the room. Mary's fair, oval into the room, stooped for the automatic
face was a composite of bewilderment and in outstretdied hand, and
Ethredge’s
apprehension; in the instant that she dropped into one of the row of chairs
glimpsed the tableau within the room her that faced Dmitri’shuge table.
slender body trembled violently and the “Very well, Dmitri,” he said, gestur-
color drained from her face, leaving it ing significantly with the automatic, "let
white as new paper. But then her us waste no more time. Proceed, and
straight, strong young spine stiffened and understand clearly, that if you attempt to
her firm little jaw set hard. Pale though trick me I will certainly kill you.”
she was, she glanced inquiringly at Eth- Briefly the men’s eyes met and clashed.
redge. Then, with surprizing suddenness, Dmitri
“Charles ” she whispered. rolled his flaccid shoulders in an expres-
Shakily, Ethredge smiled. He nodded sive, acquiescent shrug; his loose lips
toward Dmitri, bloated, swollen, hud- split in a good-humored leer.

dled inscrutably in his chair. “Shall I confess that I am beaten,

"I’ll have to tell you now, Mary,” he — then?” he asked affably. “Yes, let it be
said slowly. "Try to understand. On the so; I begin to believe that I have, in any
294 WEIRD TALES
case, overestimated Mary Roberts’ value the man was planning, calculating chance
to me. If you will sit across from me. against chance. . . .

?”
Miss Roberts, and look fixedly at the "Who am1 The words boomed like
”
lamp great mellow bass notes.
Warningly Peters exclaimed, "Don’t Mary’s answer came unhesitatingly:
look directly at that thing, Commis- "You are the Voice that Speaks from Be-
sioner!” yond the Darkness. You are the Infal-
lible One.”
Did a flicker of disappointment cross
Peculiarly, Peters sensed that in that
Dmitri’s face? Peters, as he moved from
behind Dmitri, instant Dmitri had reached a decision. . . .
his chair to stand directly
The strong, resonant phrases roiled on,
the muzzle of the automatic inches from
Dmitri’s silk-swathed shoulders, never "You will forget the assignment that I
knew. have given you.” There was a pause, and
. . .

Peters realized with a curious, crawling

anticipation that Dmitri was gathering
9. The Spider Spins
himself together, concentrating himself
upon himself, ominously.
D
table.
mitri's fat fingers touched a small
button set beneath the edge of the
And instantly, though Peters
Then the black words boomed, "Let
your nerves go mad and your muscles
tense and writhe until death releases
forced himself not to look up, he felt,
you!”
beating against his lowered eyelids, the
incredibly soothing, incredibly beautiful
"Damn you!” Peters snarled the curse;
his gun-muzzle sloughed savagely into
monotony of whirling color produced by
Dmitri’s obese flesh. Yet the gun did
the fantastic lamp. Abruptly, then, the
not speak, and Dmitri, wincing beneath
ceiling light went out. Except for the
the torturing steel, chuckled. . . .
diabolically cadenced, leaping reiteration
"I gambled that you would not fire,”
of pinwheel color dancing in the center
he gasped, his voice suddenly gloating.
of the table like some chromatic dervish,
"And now we are no longer stalemated;
the room was dark. Grimly Peters kept
before I will consent to release Mary
his eyes averted, kept his gaze boring into
Roberts from the agony she endures you
Dmitri’s black, pillar-like silhouette.
will promise me immunity, and more
Slow seconds passed. Then Dmitri
spoke, spoke in that vibrant, beautiful
than immunity —you will promise me pro-
tection, henceforth. Take that cannon
voice of his that was like the chanting of ”
from my neck
a cathedral organ.
The ceiling light flashed up, the whirl-
"You are asleep, Mary Roberts?” ing of the multicolored vanes slowed and
There was a moment’s pause. Warn- died. And, as the eyes of Ethredge and
ingly the police automatic in Peters’ hand Peters grew accustomed to the increased
touched the sodden flesh at the base of illumination within the room, the two
Dmitri’s neck. men felt their bloodflow pause, then run
Through the stillness came Mary’s re- like ice-water in their veins.

ply: "Master, I am asleep.” For Mary Roberts had toppled from

By not so much as a single, involun- her chair, and now lay weirdly, unnatur-
tary shudder had Dmitri betrayed even ally sprawled on the naked floor beside
the slightest awareness of the cold gun- Dmitri’s table, her spine bent backward
muzzle. Yet Peters knew that even now like a tight-drawn bow, the slender heels
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 295

of her tiny shoes nearly touching her placable, steely. “Stop! Do you know
chestnut hair beneath her chic little hat, what you are doing, in surrendering to
her throat and jaw muscles stretched like this — beast of hell? You are dishonor-
oversharp violin strings, her teeth and ing yourself for ever, you are promising
pink gums bared in a ghastly grin. Her him immunity to torture,and murder,
breasts were rising and falling spasmod- and debase — yes, for
”
he has done all of
ically; she breathed in choking, rattling these things
gasps. The fair, pale flesh of her oval Ethredge’s lips were a twisted snarl,
face was purpling. “Peters, I would promise him my soul
“God!” Ethredge stumbled to his feet, to free Mary!”
stood swaying drunkenly, his hands out- Dmitri was grinning, grinning. . . .

stretched; he had utterly forgotten the

Peters’ words were like the flicking of
servant Stepan.
man struggled to
For an instant the little
rise, then sank back
a rapier. “Mary would loathe you if —
she knew. Mary would never permit this
weakly.
The obscene colossus grinned. “Do
— sacrifice of honor.”
Ethredge took another step forward.
not fear; she will live a long time. Her
nerves will tire; then she will relax for
He seemed not to have heard.

a moment. She will breathe more easily,

then.”
10. A Little White Pellet

And, as though the prophecy were a

command, Mary’s body went suddenly,
horribly limp, melted against the barren
floor as though death had abruptly col-
W
in
ith
Peters
sudden,

his breast pocket. His right hand

grim
hand deep
plunged his left
determination

dropped the gun to the floor, his right

lapsed every straining muscle. Only her
gulping, hurried breathing and the grad-
arm constricted about Dmitri’s throat

ual fading of the terrible purple conges-

There was a small white pellet in the fin-
gers of his left hand.
tion from her face told that she was still
alive. Mucus was beginning to run from "Dmitri!” he snarled, “this tablet; can
her loosely open mouth. you guess what it is? — it smells of al-
Ethredge took a slow, uncertain step monds!”
forward. “God!” he mumbled, again. The powerful biceps of his right arm
Then he found words, babbling, pleading tightened. Caught in that strangling em-
words. "You
”
— devil! Free her, only free brace, Dmitri writhed weakly, horribly,
her, and his pig-like eyes wildly staring.
"Commissioner!” It was Peters’ voice, Peters’ face was inches above Dmitri’s
”
harsh, rasping. “Commissioner fear-maddened eyes. The pellet moved
With a sudden, gasping sob he paused, closer to Dmitri’s slavering, gasping jaws.
for, with the sharply reiterated exclama- “Just a touch against the tip of the
tion Mary's body had once more tensed, tongue! You attempted trickery, Dmitri;
knotted into a backward-bent bow more had you not done that we might have
terrible to look upon than had she twisted drawn your fangs and let you live. But
”
and writhed. now
“Dear God!” Ethredge moaned. He Swiftly, then, he forced the bitter-
took a second, wavering step forward. smelling pellet into Dmitri’s wide-dis-
And then Peters found speech. tended mouth, crushed the man’s jaws
“Commissioner!” His voice was im- violently together,
296 WEIRD TALES
The taste of almond was strong on convulsion that Dmitri had instilled in
Dmitri’s tongue. Mary Roberts’ subconscious, the cruel
For a split second his eyes seemed weapon he had implanted within the core
bursting from their sockets. A horrible, of her being and goaded, in terror- ridden
retching moan welled from his saliva- desperation, into life, had died in the in-
drenched mouth; blue veins leaped on stant her subconscious became aware of
his hairless temples. Then, like a pin- Dmitri’s passing, had ceased as abruptly
pricked balloon, he collapsed; his massive as though a circuit had been broken, as
head rolled forward upon his flaccid completely as though an evil light had
chest; he huddled there, stilly, in his been extinguished. . . .

chair. . . .
Peters, stooping over Mary, now limp-
"The end of you, Dmitri,” Peters was ly, weakly relaxed, slipped his strong
whispering. "The end of you!” right arm beneath her shoulders, mur-
And then he heard Ethredge’s voice, mured swift, soothing words. Sanity,
dazed with the horror he had undergone, he saw, was flooding back into her eyes.
yet implacable,now, with heartbroken re- And then she looked toward and be-
solve. yond Ethredge, and she screamed — and
"We must kill him, Peters! You are screamed again.
right; Mary would not have us sell honor, eyes followed her rigid gaze,
Peters’
even to save her!” and he looked at the servant Stepan
as
Ethredge, his eyes unseeing, his mind his nerves crawled and the short hairs at
near-crazed by suffering, did not know the base of his neck bristled in an ecstasy'
that Dmitri was already dead. And of horror.
yet 'Dear —God!”
"Dmitri is dead,” Peters said softly. In that second of unsurpassable horror
His whole attention was focussed upon there blazed across Peters’ mind a strange
Mary r
,
upon the small huddled figure kaleidoscope of tableaux, tableaux that
that, in the instant of Dmitri’s passing, were all the same, tableaux of the obese
had suddenly relaxed, lay now in semi- Dmitri and the small, self-effacing Stepan
conscious exhaustion. And in Peters’ enacting a multitude of Dmitri’s experi-
heart there leaped exultation; for in his ments, experiments in which invariably
mind had been, all along, the strange, the small automatic hammered bullets
weird conviction that the end of Dmitri into Stepan’s chest, the blow-torch flamed
would bring he had en-
release to those in Stepan’s face, hot coins were dropped

slaved. For Peters knew that Dmitri had with seeming harmlessness on Stepan’s
instilled into the subconscious of his vic- wrists! That horror on the floor, that
tims the belief that he was infallible, the horror that had been the servant Stepan,
belief thathe was a kind of god, protect- that horror that had, in the moment of
ing them, shielding them, curing them of Dmitri’s passing, changed!
their But now the man-god was
ills. "Dear God!” —
dead, and, of necessity, in each of his For the flesh-and-blood face of the
dupes the blind, limitless sea of the sub- servant Stepan had vanished, and in its
conscious was rejecting the theories he place there remained only nightmare, only
had taught, spewing out his broken im- a flame-charred, crimson skull! The hor-
age, obliterating him, in disillusionment, ror lay upon its back, its arms outflung,
from the chasms of memory. Before as it had lain while Ethredge pinioned
Peters’ eyes the unnatural tendency to it down. Its jacket was open, and the
 THE THING ON THE FLOOR 29 7

exposed expanse of shirt-front was a of yourself! Don’t let your nerve break!"
sticky crimson smear. Slowly, then, he tore his gaze away
"Dear —God!” from that horror on the floor. And,
Those bullets, those hundreds of bul- gradually, his vision cleared, his brain
lets, that Dmitri must have fired, during resumed its functioning. He had been
the months and years, through Stepan’s close to madness. . . .

chest! And somehow Peters knew, as he He saw Ethredge, then, standing close
gazed through mercifully glazed eyes beside the table, gazing at the horror at
upon the horror outsplayed there, that his feet, swaying, tottering drunkenly.
beneath the red-drenched shirt there re- Just as the Commissioner would have
mained no shred of mortal flesh, but only reeled to the floor Peters stumbled to his
a bleeding, bullet-blasted hole! feet, grasped the man, guided him like a
And on Stepan’s wrists Peters saw the shambling cretin to a chair, fumbled in
holes, the great fire-seared holes, the the Commissioner’s hip pocket for his
charred, circular holes the size of a half- whisky-flask.
dollar. . . . "Dear Lord!” Peters whispered, as he
"Dear —God!” Peters was babbling, forced whisky into Ethredge’ s trembling
over and over, inanely. mouth. "Dear Lord! if this doesn’t drive
him — drive her— mad ”

—
D imly, while his brain reeled and his
soul retched as he gazed
ghastly thing
upon the
on the floor, he yet realized
That horror that horror on the floor!
But the hot, burning stimulant was
bringing color back into Ethredge’s face.
that the same release that had, in the Swiftly Peters turned to Mary, tilted her
instant of Dmitri’s passing, loosed Mary head back, poured a staggering draft
Roberts’ and muscles from the
nerves down her throat. Gently he lifted her up,
death-laden of convulsion, had
throes supported her to a chair, where she sat
also, and in that same awful instant, freed dazedly. Mercifully, she was in almost
Stepan’s subconscious from the enjoin- a comatose condition.
ment that his body was invulnerable to Ethredge was beginning to find words.
physical And with that release
injury. — —
"That thing that thing!" he was mum-
had come Stepan’s doom the long-de- — bling.
layed death that should have been his in Incisively, then, Peters spoke.
the instant, now perhaps years in the past, "Commissioner, you’ve got to get hold
that Dmitri had first blasted a bullet of yourself. We
must get the medical
through his heart. examiner here, get Hanlon and Delaney
In that moment Peters was hardly a and men from the Medical Association;
man — he was more an animal, terrified, we must hush this affair up. Thank God
near mad with horror. He realized only we have influence; thank God the hor-
vaguely that his hands were clenched into rors Dmitri has perpetrated on this man
rigid fists, that his heart was pounding have been witnessed by many persons.
with frantic rapidity. He could feel his Perhaps the story will be a private ex- —
spine crawl and bristle; sweat, reeking periment that failed, and Dmitri dead —
with adrenal secretions, leaped from his of heart-failure. Dmitri was, after all,
pores. diabetic, and his heart was untrustworthy.
But warningly, through waves of hor- But —we cannot wait; we must call Han-
ror, some tiny figment of his brain was lon at once.” He moved toward the tele-

reiterating the command, "Don’t let go phone.

298 WEIRD TALES
"But Dmitri!” Ethredge whispered. ear. But before he dialed the well-remem-
“Dmitri —
dead of cyanide poisoning! bered number he looked, thoughtfully,
The medical examiner will know. Dmitri for a long moment, at Dmitri, at the
— murdered!” bloated, repulsively hairless hulk that had
Peters turned. His face, as he slowly once housed a brilliant, utterly evil soul.

shook his head, was enigmatic. “Poor, w arped

r
devil!” he
softly mused;
“No, Commissioner. Remember that “he could treat and cure others by sugges-
I once told you that there might even be tion, but he could not treat himself. And
”
a certain poetic justice in the manner by now he is dead. Well
which Dmitri might be most safely The short, stubby fingers of his right
destroyed? That pellet was harmless, hand were dialing the number. And, as
made of crushed almonds and flour; he listened to the small, reiterated grat-
Dmitri was his own executioner. He be- ing sound of the whirling dial, he real-
lieved that he was tasting cyanide, and ised, vaguely, that Ethredge had gone to
so he died; his own weapon, the power Mary Roberts, that Ethredge was stoop-
©f suggestion, killed him justly.” —
He was lifting the telephone to his
ing over her comfortingly, soothing her
within his strong, embracing arms.

^Z^readful Sleep
By JACK WILLIAMSON
£4 thrilling tale, a romantic and tragic tale, a weird-scientific story of the.
awakening of the fearsome beings that lay in dreadful slumber
under the antarctic ice, and the weird doom
that befell the world

N
A INITIAL apology seems due
the reader of this history. For
Ronald Dunbar, am not a man
*

of letters. Three of the books that bear

I,
human
witness to
history.

matic catastrophe.
much of
I am the only surviving
that hideously enig-
Despite
cations, therefore, as well as the natural
my disqualifi-

my name—those entitled Antarcticana I, reluctance of an active man to spending

11, and —
111 are merely the necessary sci- some months confined to on unaccus-
of my various polar explo-
entific records tomed desk, I feel it my duty to set down
rations.And the popular abridgment of a plain, simple account of what hap-
them called An Odyssey of the Ice was pened. If without mudi literary embel-
no more than an effort (which turned out lishment, it will at least be accurate and
very happily) to wipe out the deficit of clear.
my third expedition. The event of June 1 1 -December 24,
It happens however, that no accom- I960, is already recognized to be the most
plished literary historian was present to astounding and terrifying phenomenon
observe those mind-crushing events that that ever overtook our world.It was high
made the year I960 the most terrible in noon over America, on June 11, when the
 DREADFUL SLEEP 299

"The shining siren fled away before him, mocking, elusive."

summer sun abruptly vanished and the tims had abruptly vanished. Bewildered
chill blackness of a wintry midnight fell, survivors found themselves addressing
soundless but infinitely apalling. At the empty air, or passing food to a vacant
same instant, in the eastern hemisphere, plate. The vanished left no clue.
night was turned incredibly into day. The bodies were never recovered. Near
Amid the stunned shock and panic that New York, however, which had suffered
followed, astronomers swiftly perceived most heavily, a sinister thing was found.
that the earth had moved half around its Upon the Jersey Palisades lay a queer
orbit. In a split heartbeat, six months gray area of lifeless desolation, and near
had somehow gone. The Christmas sea- its center, where lovely Alpine Park had
son fell, unwarned, upon a world too been, was a wide circle of strange squat
staggered and fearful for merriment. earthen mounds.
For, inexplicably, the disaster had cost The mounds were swiftly crumbling.
thousands of lives. From office and home But apprehensive explorers, venturing
and street, in that dazing instant, the vic- into the unpleasant labyrinth of burrows
300 WEIRD TALES
beneath them, found a few gruesome the South Pole, before six months of
relics identified with the missing persons. winter set in. I know what it’s like—
No single human fragment, however, had I’ve just come from there!”
been found when the tunnels caved in. I ignored the set determination on his
The world has had no explanation of blank face.

this amazing tragedy. The astrophysicists, "I’m fed up with silence and ice and
it is true, put their learned heads together, frostbitten feet. What I want is jazz
calledup the shades of Einstein and bands, and my ice in a frosty glass, and
Minkowski, and spoke sagely of a flaw feet tapping on waxed hardwood. Sorry,
in the space-time continuum. The press Doctor, but it simply can’t be done —
not
caught up their magic words, and the this season. Now, if you can wait until
whole planet was soon informed that it November
was a Time Fault which had made six Harding set down the whisky soda I
months seem like the winking of an eye. had mixed for him, and rose deliberately
Neither savants nor newspapers, how- to stand over my chair. He was a tall
ever, could account for the vanished thou- man, his broad shoulders a little stooped
sands, or explain the grisly mounds in but powerful; he had a ruddy skin and
that queerly devastated park upon the yellowish hair. A few years older than I,
Palisades. but still under forty, he was already dis-
I am the only surviving man who tinguished in both philanthropy and sci-
knows the actual cause of the Time Fault, ence.
who experienced all the nerve-shattering I had always liked Harding, for a quick
horror of those six lost months, or who generosity and a spirit of genuine fellow-
met face to face the incredible menace ship, almost as much as I admired the
that stopped all the world. I found cour- girl he had married: lovely Jerry Ware.
age, then, togo ahead, believing that the I was indebted to him, as director of the
inherent interest of what I have to tell Planet Research Foundation, for substan-
will make up for any lack of literary tial aid to my polar flights. He had been

adornment. a —
good friend and I was deeply shocked,
now, to see the change in him.
1. The Different Doctor Harding His pale blue eyes fixed me with a
penetration that I found disquieting, and

O N the morning of February 10, of

fateful I960, Doctor Aston Harding
came into my room at the Aero Club. I
his low voice, a new strange hardness in
it, rapped:
"Yes, Dunbar, you’re going to fly us to
was just three days returned from that the Pole — this season!” His eyes, always
season’s very successful polar flight; clang- before so genially mild, were suddenly
orous New York still seemed a shining sharp as gimlets. "An explorer, you want
paradise, and any old acquaintance a wel- fame: you want to advance science: you
coming angel. I greeted Harding like a w'ant money for another expedition.
brother — before I discovered that he You’ve got a price, —
Dunbar what is it?”
wanted me to fly him back to the Ant- A very rude reply was on my tongue.
arctic, the very next week! But my respect for the old Doctor Hard-
Iput the answer to that in pretty plain ing, my
old friendship for Jerry Ware,
words. rose up in time to check the words. And
"We can’t do that, Harding! There’s Harding stabbed at me with an almost
just about six weeks of twilight left at menacing forefinger.
 DREADFUL SLEEP 301

“We’ve got the biggest proposition you Jerry had been, and was, perhaps the
ever had a nibble at, Dunbar,” his harsh friend held closest in my lonely life. But
voice crackled at me. “Were going to I must make it clear, against possible
reclaim Antarctica. We're going to thaw misunderstanding, that I did not love her,
the ice cap with atomic power!” nor she me. I had sincerely congratulated
He paused a moment to let that sink the Hardings on their marriage, believing
in, his keen pale eyes boring into my face. them perfectly mated. The change in her
"An invention of Meriden Bell’s,” his husband distressed me deeply, for I knew
raspwent on. “You know him. This is what it must mean to Jerry.
Dunbar; I trust you. We've
confidential, Her voice was quivering, now, plead-
formed a syndicate. Five of us. My wife ing.
and I, Bell and Tommy Veering and — “Ron, if Aston’s way provoked you, I
yourself.” am must explain about him. He
sorry. I
At last I swallowed my amazement, —
had an illness, two years ago. He had
and: been working late in his office at the
“Thaw the ice!” I blurted. “Harding, —
Foundation some Government research,
you don’t know what you’re talking about. on account of the Pacific War. And one
I've spent years there. Remember what
Antarctica is: five million square miles,
night he — disappeared.
“I was frantic. The police couldn’t
covered with ice up to a mile deep, with
temperatures seventy to a hundred below!
find him. I was afraid he was dead. It —
was two weeks before he came to himself,
Thaw that?”
stumbling along a highway out in Jersey.
“It can be done!” he rapped. "You
was amnesia. Still he can’t remem-
“It
talk to Bell. And there are millions in it.
ber what happened. There was evidence
Billions. For all five of us. I’ve put
thatsomebody had broken into his office.
you down for four per cent, plus ex-
The police thought an Asiatic spy might
penses.” His tone became unpleasantly
have attacked him, to get some secret.
dictatorial. “Get ready, Dunbar, to fly us ”
down in your Austral Queen by the end — But he doesn’t know. And since

of next week.” Her low voice caught, choked.

"If that’s all you want, Harding

” “Since, he seems different —sharp and
I bit my tongue, and held open the impatient — sometimes cruel. And still

door. Something, some indefinable qual- memory, details he

there are lapses in his

made me want have to help him. For he’s

ity in his bearing,
ately to hit him. It was his old friend-
desper- can’t recall.
still” —
I

she choked again “still dear to

—
ship that held my arm, and Jerry Ware. me. And promise me, Ron, that you’ll
forgive him, bear with him.”

was still hurt and puzzled by this harsh “I promise, Jerry,” I told her.
I dictatorial insolence in a man who had “Oh, thank you.” It was a glad, eager
been the most patient and generous of cry. “And, Ron, will you come out to
my friends, when the phone rang again dinner tonight? There’s to be a meeting
that afternoon, and I was surprized to of the syndicate, afterward, to discuss the
hear the voice of Harding’s wife. expedition.”
A discord of anxious worry marred its "I'll be there, Jerry, to see you. But I

old sweet music. warn you, I’m not flying back to the Pole
“Ron!” she cried eagerly. "How are — not this season.”
you?” Her gay little laugh ignored that last
302 WEIRD TALES
"Thanks, Ron,’’ she said. Doctor Bell man’s genius, perhaps a little incredulous
will pickyou up at seven.” before his sudden promise of universal
—
Meriden Bell old "Merry” Bell! I health, I reached out gingerly to touch
was eager to see him, and yet dreaded the tube in its rack. Bell swiftly caught
the encounter. I had known him well my arm, and:
when he worked at the Foundation, be- "Don’t!” his tense voice warned. "If
fore the terrible events that shattered his one drop touched you, Ron or the mil- —
career and estranged him from the world. lionth of a drop —
nothing could save
His genius had been a flame in him, you! —
Nothing until I have developed
in the old days. Radiant good spirits had the specific control.”
sparkled in his eyes. I knew that things I turned somewhat apprehensively
were different, now. I had hardly seen for those few brown drops seemed sud-
him two years, but the outline of his
for denly more terrible than all the blizzards
tragedy was familiar to me: it is part of of Antarctica — and came face to face with
the blackest chapter in American history. the most dreadful man I have ever seen.
Three years before, a day came back to
me when I had called on Bell in his 2. Five Against the Ice
biological laboratory at the Foundation,
—no
which then occupied a gray old building
at the edge of the Jersey meadows. Hard-

ing had already hinted that Bell’s bac-

D readful
human
stained laboratory smock,
other
monstrosity.
he stood less
word so fits that
Wearing a

teriological research was the greatest of than five feet His back was horribly
tall.

the century, but I was nevertheless sur- hunched, and his great gnarled hands
prized. slung forward like the limbs of a gorilla.
All that long-past summer afternoon Beneath sleek black hair, his face was a
came back: the air in the laboratory a yellow, V-shaped mask. His eyes, set
little stuffy, unpleasant with a vague odor deep beneath dense, bushy dark brows
of formaldehyde; the north light gleam- that sloped to make a smaller V, were
ing on microscopes, incubators, centri- black also —and his most appalling fea-

fuges, and specimen jars; Bell, a tall blue- ture.

eyed man, young and slender in labora- They held me, his eyes, in a sort of
tory white, eagerly busy over a spectro- shrinking fascination, because they were
scope. — hideous. One was oddly red-flecked
He came to meet me, turned to point around the contracted pupil, with an evil,

dramatically at a test-tube that held a glittering red. • The other was strangely
few drops of an amber fluid. dilated, a fearsome inscrutable midnight
"My triumph, Ron!” Eager elation orb that seemed to have no iris.
rang in his low voice. “That is my Cul- Those dark, mismated eyes were fixed
ture V 13 —
the perfect bacteriophage! It on the yellow liquid in the tube with an
is a filterable virus that will destroy any intensity somehow terrifying. Beneath
living thing, any bacterium, any malig- the ugly blankness of the yellow, pointed
nant organism. When I have developed face I sensed a sinister storm of sup-
the control — a specific protection for the pressed emotion: a mad black yearning, a
cells of the human body — it can eradi- bitter, burning hatred, a savage and tri-

cate all disease!” umphant gloating.

"All disease!” I started back, appalled as if some bot-
Awed by the might of this slender tomless crevasse had abruptly snapped
 DREADFUL SLEEP 303

open before me. Bell made a hasty in- skill could do nothing: the dead were
troduction: dead, and Asiatic vengeance satisfied.

“Ron, this is Doctor Kroll. Captain Bell admitted that his bacteriophage must
Dunbar, meet Doctor Mawson Kroll, who have caused the deaths, but could not ac-
is assisting my biological research.” count for its possession by the enemy.
The hunchback had and started also, He was arrested, tried by court-martial,
all hint of that yearning and hatred and convicted of treason — then suddenly ex-
gloating was instantly gone from the yel- onerated, when the guilt was pinned upon
low V of his face —though he couldn’t Mawson Kroll.
erase its stifled, searing fury from my For Bell’s assistant had taken flight,

mind. The hand he gave me was unpleas- leaving a trunk filled with Asiatic gold.
antly cold. In the intercepted communications of the
“Doctor Bell has made a remarkable enemy were found letters in which Kroll
discovery.” Kroll’s voice was oily and yet demanded, as payment for his treason, to
grating, unpleasant as his breath. "One be made Emperor of America.
the world will not forget.” The fugitive hunchback was arrested,
The horror to come must have been two weeks later, on the Mexican border.
already in his twisted —
mind perhaps I Stupidly he denied his guilt, even his own
had seen its birth. But only afterward identity. An alienist pronounced him
did 1 see the sardonic second meaning in criminally insane. Tried in a military
his words. court,he was convicted by the over-
The Pacific War was fought during my whelming weight of circumstantial evi-
next polar expedition, ended before I dence, shot by a firing-squad.
knew of its beginning; for the censored Bell abandoned his experiments, de-
radio carried no news. stroyed his records and various cultures
The American air forces, supported by at the Foundation, by military command.
the fleet, had already won a swift and His brilliant mind, it seemed for months,
brilliant victory, when Bell’s “Culture V had been shattered by the disaster. He
13” fell mysteriously into the hands of was forcibly restrained from suicide, com-
the enemy. Nevertheless, by the last mitted to an asylum.
vengeful order of a defeated and mortally His tortured brain had assumed the
wounded commander, three surviving guilt of a million murders. The psychia-
Asiatic planes sprayed the bacteriophage trists, if they failed to unburden him alto-
along the Pacific coast. From Seattle to gether of Kroll’s crime, at least convinced
San Diego, it took a million and a quarter him he might best make atonement
that
lives, hideously. by living. He had come back to the
Hideously — for every droplet that Foundation before my last expedition, to
touched a human body started an incur- begin research in a newly opened field of
able sore, a tdeeding crater of agony that sub-atomic physics.
spread implacably, swiftly destroying skin
and

sumed.
flesh and bone, until not life alone
but every vestige of the corpse was con- N ow, when came to meet me in
Bell
die winter gloom that filled the halls
of the Aero Club, I saw that he had never
On that terrible morning, when a escaped the shadow of that tragedy. He
whole nation was stunned with horror was frail and thin, his blue eyes dark
and death, high military authorities called with brooding. His white pinched face
on Meriden Bell, at his laboratory. His looked as if it never smiled. The eager-
304 WEIRD TALES
ness of his greeting, however, was almost I was speechless to that. Merry went
pathetic. on gravely:
"Good old Ron,” he whispered, and "Your plane will carry all the equip-
felt the muscle of my shoulder with his ment we need. I have designed a heat-
pale fingers as if we were schoolboys beam radiator, transformers, tower —
again. "You must thrive on cold — you’re everything. Harding has formed a syn-
looking like a red-headed Hercules." dicate to put up the money. Wc are all
”
"But I’ve had enough of winter for meeting tonight—
Merry," I told him.
this season, "What "Listen, Merry," I started to object.
I’m looking for is warmth and women "Harding is taking just a little too much
and laughter." And I asked hopefully, ”
for granted. So far as I’m concerned
"Harding wasn’t possibly joking, about His white fingers caught my arm.
this project to thaw the ice cap?”
"But, Ron, old man, you don’t under-
"No, Ron." Bell’s pale thin face was
stand." His voice was hoarse, quivering.
abruptly serious, almost grimly resolute.
"This is the chance for me to make up
“We’re going to do it, all right. The
for what I have done. One discovery of
equipment will be ready in a week. And
mine took a million lives. If another
you are the only man with experience could open up a new continent, where
enough to take us where we want to go, millions could live, it would help settle
at this season. We’re going to the Staple-
” the score.”
don Basin-
He gulped. His tortured eyes searched
"The Stapledon Basin — right across the
my face.
Pole!" That got me. "Surely, Merry,
you haven’t considered how difficult or — "That’s
—came
all I’ve been working for, Ron,
You won’t stop me
impossible —
it would be to thaw a conti-
since
—
I

will you?"
back.

nent of ice!"
No resisting that. "All right. Merry,”
His dark eyes came gravely to my face,
I told him.
and in them was some commanding
His thin hand wrung mine.
power, some deep reflection of his old
supernal genius, that silenced my protests. "Thanks, old man!" He was almost
Ron," he said sobbing. "We’ll be ready to fly by the
"But I heive considered,
quietly. "And have solved every prob-
I
eighteenth. You can have the Austral
lem. I have developed an atomic battery
Queen in shape? There will be five of us

that will supply ample power it is still — going, and no others."

secret; what I tell you is confidential." "But Jerry Harding!" I protested.

“Atomic power?" "She isn’t going not — into such hardship

He nodded. and danger. Some of my men might be

”
"It a hydro-helium vacuum cell.
is We persuaded to return
call the Atom-Builder. It builds hy-
it "No others!" An old bitterness was
drogen atoms into helium. Four hundred hard in "This tiling is secret
Bell's voice.
grams of hydrogen gives you three ninety- — there won’t be another Mawson Kroll!”
nine of helium, plus one of pure energy. His dark eyes stared at me, so terrible
A gram of energy is a great deal, Ron. that I looked away. "And Jerry will hear
A few tons of u'ater will be all the fuel of nothing else but going," he went on.
we need. We shall bum ice to thaw- "There’ll be just the five of us, against
Antarctica!" the ice."
W. T.—
 DREADFUL SLEEP 305

3 . The Dweller in the Pylon I was thinking moodily, too, of the mock-
ery in Bell’s old nickname, for if ever

W
I

E found the Hardings at their up- had seen a man walking alive in hell, it
town apartment, and Tommy Veer- was surely he. It was worth all the risk
ing. Harding was her old self slen-
Jerry : and folly of the flight, I thought, to alle-
der, gray-eyed, charming; yet I could see viate his torture. I went to bed, and, of
her deep concern for her husband. She old habit, fell immediately asleep.
hovered anxiously near him, twice came From this point it is difficult for me to

swiftly to his aid when his memory go on. Much of the remainder of this
seemed to stumble upon a momentary' histoiy must deal with facts and beings
blank. that will appear incredible in the severe
Veering was a slim, slick-haired young light of established science.
chap, whose smiling brown eyes held a I share the reluctance of the orthodox
diffident appeal. A new protege of Hard- scientist to admit anything not proven by
ing’s, he had been with the Foundation objective observations and beyond all

since his graduation. For all his youth, doubt, for I know too well the possible
he was already distinguished in electronic subjective vagaries of the human mind.
engineering. I am sensitive, too, of any charges of sen-
He listened intently as Bell briefly out- sationalism or mistreatment of the truth.
lined the momentous plan, after we had Yet it is my obvious duty to omit noth-
eaten. Keen enthusiasm lit his boyish ing that happened, however fantastic or
face. Eagerly, he gripped Bell’s hand. ill-supported the account of it may seem.
"Wonderful, Doctor Bell! It it’s — To leave out anything would distort the
great. You have given the world another whole. Perhaps it is to be expected, after
world!’’ And he began a question: "Your all, that the circumstances leading up to
precise sub-atomic formulas ?” the incredible phenomenon of the Time
"If I have revealed enough to convince Fault should appear equally astounding.
you," Merry' Bell said gravely, "I shall
reserve the rest until we have reached the woke suddenly in my dim-lit room.
site of operations.’’ Old bitterness shad- I The city had grown almost quiet. The
owed his voice again. "So there cannot illuminated hands of the electric clock
be another ” He bit his thin lip. "I showed five minutes past three I had —
have listed the equipment we shall need.” been sleeping no more than an hour.
Veering’s enthusiasm ended indecision. The sound that had waked me was
We went on to plan the expedition: totally unfamiliar — unless perhaps it sug-
plotted a schedule for the flight to the gested the song of some tiny, exotic trop-
frozen Stapledon Basin, that would be a ical bird. Its plaintive keenness held a
race against the swift-falling polar night; wail of lonely despair, yet somehow it

listed our essential supplies and the nine was heart-pi ercingly sweet.
tons of Bell's equipment against the maxi- I sat up in bed abruptly, less frightened
mum capacity of my loyal old plane, the than merely startled although my heart
Austral Queen. was thudding. My hand went toward
It was two o’clock when I got back to the light. Before I touched the switch,
my room at the club, elated with this mad however, I saw what was in the room.
dream of conquering the polar world, yet And all movement left me.
troubled with vague apprehensions in- My incredible visitor was floating a
spired by the change in Doctor Harding. yard off the floor, beside my bed. It
W. T.—
306 WEIRD TALES
shone with a pale light of its own, so she was less than four feet tall. And the
that I had no need of the electrics. A flying shell, I knew, was as much a part
brief high note came from it again, keen of her, as much alive, as the shining crest
with lonely longing, and somehow telling or her purple eyes.
me not to be afraid. I sat in the bed, staring at her, bewil-
A being beyond conception, supernal! dered, incredulous. She should have been
An exquisite rosy shell, floating upright, a dream. The fastened window— for the
flushed with a living light. Its fluted room was air-conditioned —had not been
spirals tapered to a point, below. Its disturbed; the door was still locked.But
gleaming lips, flared out like a vase of here she was. And I was as wide awake
pearl, held the bust of an elfin woman. as I had ever been. I heard the distant
Maru Mora! — thunder of an elevated train.
Her tiny shoulders were covered with Hie red lips pouted, the keen voice
a fine golden down. Her delicate head came again, like a whistling, saying, as I
— —
was or seemed the head of a pigmy sensed its wordless meaning: Do not be
queen. But the golden plates that afraid. The shining being drifted a lit-

crowned it, I knew, and the plumed scar- tletoward my bed, settled toward me.
let crest above, were living part of her. Over the lip of the shell readied a slen-
Her small pointed face was whiter than der arm, bright with golden fur.
alabaster, and imperial in its pride. Her The hand that reached for me was tiny,

eyes were huge, purple, limpid. They infinitely delicate, seven-fingered. It was

were round and sober with the innocence thumbless, the middle finger longest.
of a child’s; they were inscrutable with The were narrow, pointed, crimson.
nails
ageless wisdom; they were dark wells of For all its golden strangeness, it was beau-
agony, ancient and ageless. tiful, and, to me, a hand.

Her lips were a tiny crimson wound. The keen piping, so lonely, so sorrow-
They were full, almost sensuous. They fully sweet, wailed again. I looked into
smiled at me, with a faint twist of malice. the infinite wells of those purple eyes.
Maru-Mora. I knew that she was noth- And something made me put up my own
ing human. Yet my fancy ever made her big hand, grasp those tiny furry fingers.
so, for eyes and lips and even the impu- Instantly, incredibly, I was snatched
dent flirt of her crimson plume held all out of my body.
the essence of humanity: wisdom and the I know how utterly fantastic, impos-
vain yearning to forget, pride and bitter sible, thatmust seem. But I had an in-
defeat, hot passion and long frustration, stant’s my body left behind
impression of
hope and despair, bright courage and con- in that dim room,
sitting bolt-upright and
suming fear, living joy and ultimate, in- motionless in the bed. Then we were
finite agony. plunging upward, outside, above the dark
Against all that, it mattered not if she building and the restless city.
had a golden carapace instead of hair, if Southward we soared that shining —
her great eyes were lidless, if her facial being beside me, drawing me by the hand,
economy seemed to provide no nostrils. for my form was still the same, even if
Bodily, she might have more in common —
my body lay behind across slumbering
with the mollusk than with man, but continents and over dark whispering
some fchord in her spirit touched the hu- oceans.
man, none the less. We swept into the frigid gray twilight
Altogether, elfin bust and pearly vase, that lay upon the polar lands. I recog-
 DREADFUL SLEEP 307

nized the very Mountains of Despair, of red in the misty distance. The immemo-
•which my party had made an aerial sur- rial mass of that towered crystal block,
vey on the last expedition, and lying vast strange with deep-cut glyphs, looming
and desolate beyond them, the Stapledon above us like the enigmatic monument of
Basin,. some lost and forgotten race.
And down we sloped again, across But the being at my side was looking
gray crevasse-riven glaciers, toward a tow- down at that ancient black door. Her
ering transpolar range that I had glimpsed eery piping keened out again, calling. A
in the distance, called the Mountains of little time went by. Then a girl opened
Uranus, but had never reached. the door, and came running lightly up
As we dropped toward those black the steps.
granite peaks, bleakly stark, frost-shat- She was beautiful — slender, tall, filled

from the
tered, yet rearing so majestically with the glory of young womanhood.
eternal ice, I was amazed to see what Her trim clothing was strangely cut from
seemed a building, with twin hexagonal some pure white fur. The one strand of
towers, projecting above the naked wind- hair that escaped her close-fitting cap was
swept ledges of a rounded summit. a gorgeous ruddy gold. Her oval face
This structure — I hardly know a name was very fair, the forehead high and
for it —seemed deeply anchored in the white. Her wide blue eyes were burning
living granite. Its material was un- with some new-born eagerness.
and richly purple, like
familiar: ice-clear Beautiful. . . . My stumbling words
some unimaginable colossal amethyst. Its could never convey her perfect loveliness.
low massive outline somewhat suggested I looked at her, drank deep of her vital
those towered gateways of the ancient splendor, for some old, haunting thirst
Egyptians that archeologists call pylons. was being satisfied. She held some elusive
But it had no opening; it appeared door- perfection that I had sought, for many
less, windowless, one solid block of flaw- weary years, in many lands, even in my
less crystal. polar explorations, .and never glimpsed
Near it, however, a wide fissure cleft before.
the summit. Worn stone steps,
black Beautiful. ... I knew instantly that I

freshly swept free of snow, led down into wanted her, to possess and to serve, to
it. At their foot was a massive door of love, for ever. And I knew, bitterly, that
black metal, battered and corroded as if this was was only some strange dream,
by the impact of ages. that I really lay still or my body did —
New York

W
back in City.
e settled down upon the barren "Maru-Mora!”
ledge above the fissure. I stood The girl ran to the flying being, with
upon the snow-patched granite or it — that eager greeting on her tongue. She
seemed that I did, for I was still aw'are embraced those golden shoulders, light-
that my body lay back in New York. And ly, gently. A tiny golden-furred hand
the shining being floated beside me, the stroked her head, Then
affectionately.
golden tendrils of her fingers still grasp- the keen thin piping of Maru-Mora came
ing my hand. again, and the girl turned eagerly toward
A weirdly unforgettable scene. The me.
stark black mountain beneath us tower- "I know your' name: you are Ron
ing above the* gray infinity of ice. The Dunbar,” she said, surprizingly. She
midnight sun burning low and ominously spoke English. Her voice was low, faint-
308 WEIRD TALES
ly awkward, as if she were little used to Her voice was steady and low. “That is
speech. It was soft, deeply rich, de- what Maru-Mora brought you to hear.
licious. “I am Karalec,” she said. "Maru- You must never fly your madiine into
Mora brought you here to her dwelling this land again. You must promise that.”

or a part of you —so that I might speak I looked at her, sharing all die agony

to you, for her.” written on her white face.

I —or the "part of me” — stood drink- "But I'm coming back,” I said, "before
ing in her glowing loveliness.
sheer, the sun is gone. I’m coming to take you
”
Swift admiration had conquered my old away, Karalee
diffidence with women, even my present Her face brightened for a moment, to
amazement. I stood merely looking, de- a tortured eagerness of longing. She
lighted, until suddenly I was afraid that looked up again at the silent fantastic
my gaze might offend or discomfit the shape of Maru-Mora.
girl. "No, Ron Dunbar,” her voice came
"I'm glad that she did,” I said. ’’And slow and heavy with regret. "You must
1 wish that she had brought all of me, so not come to diis land again.” Her tone
that perhaps I could stay.” quivered. "Never — not even for me.
Deep and serene, the girl’s clear blue Maru-Mora forbids it.”

eyes looked into mine. Her full lips I looked up at the shining being diat
quivered suddenly; her white nostrils still held my hand in her tiny furry fin-
flared to a deeper breath; her deep bosom gers, demanding:
lifted. "Why?” -
"I wish, Ron Dunbar,” her low voice
said simply, "that you could stay.” 4. "They That Sleep”
Afterward, I was surprized at my swift
surrender to a woman in a dream. But Again that eldritdi, plaintive piping
emotion, as well as thought, all through Tv sobbed from the elfin woman's
that incredible experience, seemed more head, gold-crowned and scarlet-plumed,
direct and clear than common. Some old above that flaring opalescent shell. Again
restraint was left behind. the fair girl Karalee, so lovely in her trim
"I’ll come again, ” I found myself white furs, rendered translation:
promising the girl. "Now I know the "It is true, Ron Dunbar,
you are that
way. I’ll fly back to these very mountains. planning to fly here again, with new com-
Next time, all of me — for you.” panions, before this sun is gone?”
Eagerness shone bright on her face. "It is,” I said, surprized.
"You will come, Ron — for me?” "It is true,” Karalee gave the next
Gleaming tears misted her eyes. "And question, "that your purpose is to thaw
sometime —we can go out together —out the ice from all this world?”
into the World?” Perhaps I shouldn’t have been amazed
The sweet exotic piping of Maru-Mora at that. After Maru-Mora had come
all,

came again then, swiftly urgent. The girl to New York after me. It didn’t much
Karalee looked up at that supernal being, increase the wonder of it, I suppose, that
and bade to me. And all die eagerness she now displayed knowledge of what
had gone from her face. It was a pale, had occurred there, that evening, in Hard-
bleak oval, stricken. The tears were gone. ing’s apartment.
Her eyes were dry, dark with pain. For an instant, however, I was speech-
"No, Ron, you must never come back.” less. A strange fear chilled and shook
 DREADFUL SLEEP 309

me, until I looked up into those great frozen ledge, her arm rigidly extended.
purple orbs. They came down to my face, Yet she was with us also, drawn by Maru-
and I a warmth of supernal peace.
felt Mora’s other hand drawn out of her —
The was gone.
fear body, as I had been.
"We’re going

W
"That’s right,”
I said.

to use atomic power. Doctor Bell hopes E three soared swiftly through
to make the whole continent temperate, chill gray mists, descended upon a
and open it up to settlement.” rugged ice-plain from which jutted great

"Then you must give up the plan,” boulders of granite, black, naked, shat-
Karalee rendered the swift reply. "For tered with the frost of ages. We stood at

the ice must never be thawed. . . . Death the brink of a dark crevasse. Karalee
is sleeping under the ice, Ron Dunbar pointed across it.

the death of all the world! Take care lest Her lips moved twice before she could
you rouse it.” speak, and her voice came muffled, breath-
"Death?” I demanded. "What do you less, choked with horror.
mean?” "There,” she said. "One of Them. It

Then took place the strangest and cer- is the Watcher.”

tainly the most terrible part of all that in- I shuddered at sight of that monstrous
credible adventure. thing. It stood upright upon a cragged
We still stood together beside that boulder, and it did not move. The body
colossal purple pylon, on the naked gran- of it was black, covered with great scales,
ite of that frozen peak. Red as blood, the a swollen elongated thing shaped like an
midnight sun burned low in the horizon- immense barrel. It stood upon three
less distance, where the gray illimitable black tentacular limbs, whose extremities
desert of ice merged with the gray and had coiled like mighty serpents to grasp
featureless sky. A bitter wind howled the granite.
and moaned about the towers of the Head, it had none. But the bulged up-
pylon. I was insensible of any cold, but per end of the black body was broken
the girl Karalee was already pale, shiver- with a great sharp triangular projection,
ing. She had gestured toward the steps which looked like a hideous snout. Three
that led down to the door in the rock. scaled triangular flaps, just about its swol-
"Let us go down into my rooms,” she len equatorial belt, might, I thought, cover
said. "It is warmer there.” Dark with strange organs of sense.
longing and regret, her eyes looked at This creature was utterly horrifying,
Maru-Mora, and back at me. "If you are in a sense I can hardly define. Its horror
”
forbidden ever to return, at least held nothing familiar. If Maru-Mora was
Maru-Mora’s piping cut her off. As if clearly non-human, it was certainly non-
answering a command, the girl stepped terrestrial. It chilled me with an element-
quickly to the flying being. She held out al, absolute revulsion.
a mittened hand. Tiny golden fingers I knew that the girl was sick and cold
clasped it. with dread. I heard her make a pleading
"Come,” the girl translated. "Maru- little whistle: her human imitation of the
Mora is carrying us to see the peril that voice ofMaru-Mora. Her strained hoarse
you must not rouse. It is They That whisper came to me, urgent:
Sleep.” "Look swiftly, Ron, so that we can go.
We rose again. I had the briefest I do not like these things. But Maru-
”
glimpse of Karalee left standing on that Mora says you must see
310 WEIRD TALES
The black monstrosity, indeed, held my sharpened —or perhaps Maru-Mora in

gaze with a fascination of utter terror. It some manner shared her own strange
had been there, motionless, a long time. senses with —
me and 1 perceived the
The great black scales were silvered with great valley beyond and below us.
frost. Snow was banked beyond it. The Dim in the green haze of the ice, I
ice had climbed up over the coils of its presently distinguished a Cyclopean ma-
ophidian limbs. •
chine. Resting on tremendous skids
The boulder was cracked, I saw, shat- which lay far along the floor of the val-
tered. Time had splintered the granite
ley, it w'as all of darkly gleaming red-
since those giant tentacles first grasped it.
black metal. A colossal bulging hull, sur-
Only their frozen pressure held it from rounded with a confusion of struts and
crumbling. How many centuries?
braces, mastsand booms and metal arms,
Surely, after so long, I thought, it must
mysterious rods and vanes, towered even
be dead —
and I knew that it was not. above the ridge where we stood. It was
Nothing dead could inspire such resist- like the bloated body of some monstrous
less fear. I sensed — or fancied — a slow, spider, crouching with folded limbs, set
implacable beat, like a pulse of evil,
to spring.
measured, menacing, mind-shattering.
Here and there about those crimson
I flinched suddenly, turned away, hid
planes and arms, frozen motionless in the
my eyes with a trembling hand. I fought
green mist of ice, I saw black and hid-
a strange and elemental sickness, a new-
eous beings like the Watcher: scaled bod-
born horror that gnawed worm-like at the
ies headless and bulging, supported on
marrow of my bones. It brought a flood
triple ophidian limbs.
of vast relief when:
"Come,” said Karalee. "We go to see
An alien horror touched me, as we
stood on that black ridge beneath the ice.
the others.”
It was the stark menace of the Outside:
We left that stark eternal black sentinel
the terror of worlds strange beyond con-
overlooking the glaciers. We soared
ception, of powers and entities supernal,
swiftly through the leaden mists, came
monstrous, utterly alien. That stark, won-
down upon ridged and fissured
"The others," said the girl,
ice.

"are all
dering, elemental dread —some dim in-

stinctive inkling of it, I think, is at the

about their ship, beneath the
Driven by a fascinated compulsion to
ice.”
basis of many primitive religions — is the
most terrible emotion a human being can
see all I could, even though the horror of
feel.
it should consume me, I was striving in

vain to peer down through the gray-white

obscurity of the ice
were beneath it!
—
when suddenly we
D
dream,
imly through
dread,
I
as if
the
I
numbness of my
dreamed within a
heard the piping of Maru-Mora,
Down through the darkness of the gla-
and Karalee spoke:
cier we plunged, as swiftly as through the
air above. The ice was all around us, like
"That is the ship that came from
a blue-green liquid. Beyond. And They are the Tharshoon.

And suddenly we were standing again They came to conquer Earth. That was
We were far in another age, before the ice came here.
on a long ridge of granite.
beneath the glacier, which was like a This was a fair world, then, and my peo-

thick green-black mist above us. I could ple ruled it. Man was not born.”
see little at first, but gradually my vision I knew that this was Maru-Mora
 DREADFUL SLEEP 311

speaking, through the lips of the wide- merely increased my shocked and reeling
eyed, terror-dazed girl. dread. Maru-Mora was piping again, and
"The Tharshoon brought fearsome the girl said anxiously:

weapons: giant needles that poured out "Come. We must return. Maru-Mora’s
terrible red flame. Even their eyes could strength is low. Should it fail, we all

stare us into —nothingness. And we had must perish.”

none. We had been a people of peace. was eager to escape. The
For myself, I

"The invaders attacked our white cities, green mist of was suddenly crushing,
ice

overwhelmed them in horror and death. suffocating. And I was sick from the
We were without defense, until I, the overwhelming horror of that ship and its
Seeker, who had long since given up my monstrous crew.
body on the altar of science, discovered But the tiny golden fingers tightened
a power that made them sleep. on my hand, and the girl’s. We left the
"By it was too late to save
that time, black ridge beside that vessel from "Be-
my people. They all had perished. But I yond,” drove upward through the mala-
lived — when rather I had died. I stopped chite haze of the ice. We swept over the
the Tharshoon, in the hour of their vic- glaciers again, toward the towering black
tory. And I have stood guard upon them, range and the time-battered summit where
whom I could not destroy.” the purple pylon stood.

The half-chanting voice of Karalee I glimpsed the girl’s body waiting,

speaking, knew, the thoughts of the
I rigid inits furs —
not a muscle had moved
strange elder being— had become oddly since we left. Then we were beside it,
like the piping of Maru-Mora.
It was and there was but one Karalee. Blue with
plaintively sorrowful, weary with age-old cold, shuddering, she began beating her
loneliness, piercing with a yearning be- mittened hands stiffly against her sides.
yond words. The Seeker piped again, and she turned
"The world has changed its axis. The to me, gasping:
ice has come to bind the sleepers more "You have seen them, now, Ron Dun-
securely. Your race of man has risen bar. The eternal Sleepers — if they are
from the northern jungle beasts. And still waked, your world will die! Let them
I wait and watch. . . . And the Thar- sleep —do not try to thaw the ice —and
shoon shall not wake!” don’t come back again.”
However amazing that scrap of Earth- "But I am coming back.” I tugged
history, it was, in my singular mental toward her, against the strange strength
state, somehow credible. I knew Antarc- of Maru-Mora’s hand. "For I love you,
tica had once been tropical; it is rich with Karalee.”
coal seams; our survey had revealed a The shivering girl started toward me,
rich Jurassic fossil flora of ferns, conifers eagerly. But the eery voice of Maru-Mora
and cycads, within fifty miles of the pole; stopped her. The white oval of her face
I was familiar with the various theories went starkly rigid. Her wide blue eyes
of axial shift and continental drift. For turned dark with dread.
the rest of it, the hideous forms of the "No, Ron, don’t come back!” she
invaders and the Seeker's exotic beauty sobbed. "For you will die, and I, and
”
were here before my eyes. all the world
Yes, I accepted it without question, The Seeker piped again, imperatively.
then. And the ray of understanding The girl turned slowly, as if in reluctant
312 WEIRD TALES
obedience. Her dry eyes looked back at 5. Beyond the Pole
me, black with tragedy, mutely imploring.
ven now, w ords, am
She tried to speak, and could not. She
E writing these r
I

went stiffly, at last, down the steps in the overcome with a black tide of guilt.
fissure, and through the black door. For the warning in that singular vision
” had been explicit, unmistakable. Had I
"Karalee I called after her, vain-
but been wise enough to heed it, what
ly. The door closed ponderously. I was
untold horror and death might have been
still staring at it when I felt the Seeker’s
averted!
tiny fingers tugging at my hand.

She drew me toward the side of the

The silent hands of the electric clock,
pylon. The purple transparency of it
when I looked, stood at three-forty. My
towered sheer out of the black granite. body, which had lain thirty : five minutes

Frost of ages had splintered and crumbled

uncovered and motionless, was stiff with

the stone, blizzards of ages carved it gro-

cold, yet strangely damp with sweat. A
blinding headache splintered through the
tesquely. That Cyclopean crystal, how-
ever, remained diamond-hard, diamond-
back of my Clambering uncertain-
brain.
ly out of the bed, I found myself trem-
polished; it was deeply graven with the
bling with nervous exhaustion, sound
lost runes of a world dead before the
heart fluttering as if it had come through
coming of the ice.
some terrific strain.
One moment she paused against that
At first I could hardly stand, but I felt
amethystine wall. Wondrous being! A
better as movement restored circulation.
fluted spiral vase of opalescent pearl,
I I decided, call a doctor; what
wouldn't,
holding flower-like an elfin queen, gold-
I wanted was a chance to think over what
en-robed and golden-crowned, crimson-
had happened. After a few turns around
plumed. Last and greatest of a people
the room, I took two aspirins, smoked out
lost! Maru-Mora, the Seeker!
a pipe, and went back to bed but not to —
The deep purple wells of her immense sleep that night.
eyes regarded me soberly, as if with un-
For my mind was still too full of Maru-
uttered warning. Her delicate seven-fin-
Mora’ s supernal wonder; of the immemo-
gered hand gestured toward Karalee’s rial ice-drowned horror of the Sleepers;
door. Her scarlet mouth pouted to a sin-
of Karalee’s young intoxicating beauty.
gle admonishing note. Desperately I wrestled with the terrible
Then her furry fingers released me. As question: had it been real, or a dream?
easily as we had entered the ice, she drift- It all had been absolutely convincing
ed through that adamantine wall, into the as it passed; doubt had only come after-
crystal pylon. She seemed to relax. For ward. It had seemed too perfect in de-
an instant I watched her still, sinking tail, too strangely coherent, too fearfully
peacefully through its pellucid depths. alien, to be a dream — for the dreaming
Then I turned. I tried to walk back mind commonly reflects only the familiar
toward the crevice in the rock that opened patterns of the day, creating nothing new.
to Karalee’s ^bode. But the -world splin- But the stiff orthodoxy of my scientific

tered about me. I was crushed beneath a training balked at accepting it as anything
black, appalling avalanche of pain. . . . more than dream.
And then I was in bed again, back in Could the human mind exist outside

my room at the Aero Club. the body? — fly ten thousand miles and
 DREADFUL SLEEP 313

back in half an hour? — dive a mile be- We were Remembering the loyal
five.

neath the ice cap? faith of jerry Ware, I might have known
That was childish superstition; any en- that no husband of hers would go into
lightened savage would know better. peril without her by his side.
The Seeker —was she possible? A pre- A strange haze that forewarned of an
human being as high as mankind — or early blizzard met us, as w'e came down
higher; ageless dweller in a crystal block; across the dark polar sea. In the pale
flitting intangibly over the planet at the light of the low sun reddening behind us
speed of thought! Who would believe my in the north, it shimmered with a curious

tale of Maru-Mora? pellucid saffron radiance. The towering

The Tharshoon —could sudi monstros- white-crowned icebergs loomed out of it
ities be? Could sentient invaders have with a suddenness always startling.
crossed the gulf from
some unimaginable Flying low', no more than a frail mote
Beyond? Assuming that they came when lost in the ominous immensity of this ice-

a tropical wilderness covered the present walled sea at the bottom of the world, the
polar continent, could they have survived Austral Queen soon battled a freezing
ten or a hundred million years beneath headwind.
the ice? The scientist in me answered A big, four-motored amphibian trans-
those questions with an outraged "No!’' port, she had served me loyally through
Moreover, at the risk of greater blame, two previous expeditions. But she was
but for the sake of honesty, I must con- too heavily laden, now, with the five of
fess that even if I had been fairly con- us, our winter’s supplies and equipment,
vinced of the reality of that experience and the nine tons of Bell's apparatus.
still I might have gone. For a kind of The blizzard, as if to give warning of
foolhardiness —or it may be only egotism the grim night to come, met us with sav-
—has made me ever seek danger rather age fury. Sometimes it drove us perilous-
than avoid it. Not that I am fearless, at ly close to the fangs of the ice; sometimes
all; merely that great peril has a resistless its opposing violence held us motionless.
fascination, even when terrifies me.
it Tommy Veering had spelled me at the
And then, besides, I had seen Karalee. controls, w'hile I got a little sleep back on
That is all my apology. I merely hope the dunnage that filled half the cabin,
the reader will try to understand why I but he called me forward as the wind
chose to ignore that singular warning grew worse, in the sixties. I was tired
why I strove to credit it, in my own mind, for all the flight had been a desperate race
to a heavy supper and my worries about against the polar night. Yet, back at the
Doctor Harding and our flight to the controls, I found an old elation. I shared
south. the victory of the ship as she defied the
teeth of the ice and the sea’s cold maw,
said nothing at all to my associates and met the blows of the bitter wind.
I about that astounding dream. Our Floes and bergs became more frequent,
preparations were completed with little and at last the white pack was beneath
delay. On the afternoon of February 21, us. The desolate Balleny Islands were be-
the last bulky crates of Bell's atomic ap- hind. We veered a little eastward, around
paratus were stowed aboard the Austral Cape Adare, and battled our way along
Queen, moored in San Francisco Bay. the grim coast of South Victoria Land.
The next morning we took off for Antarc- Dim-shrouded in the blizzard, the dark
tica, via Honolulu, Suva, and Dunedin. masses of Mount Erebus and Mount Ter-
314 WEIRD TALES
ror crept down to our right, and at last She leaned across to peer down at the
the Ross Barrier came marching out of polar world, thickly misted with blizzard-
the ever-thickening saffron mists, a black whipped snow, savage-fanged with hum-
and hostile wall towering hundreds of mocks and pressure ridges, black-scarred
feet to the white desert of flying snow. with abysmal crevasses.
Jerry Harding had come up into the Then again something happened that
cockpit, after Veering went back, bring- it is difficult to account for in the cold
ing hot coffee. Her brave gray eyes rational light of established science. A
scanned the wall of ice ahead; then she small thing in itself, perhaps —merely the
looked at me, and her voice came quiet inexplicable sensation of an —but
instant
and grave: terrible in its significance.

'We are flying very low, Ron. Do you I had looked aside at Jerry's frail love-
”
think liness, her pale lips now parted with a
“I’ve been trying to keep under the little smile. And some warning tentacle
wind,” I said. "The ship is heavy, but of cold reached suddenly into the insu-
she’llclimb —
she has to climb eighteen lated cabin, to touch my spine. Some-
thousand feet to cross the passes into the thing, I know, made me shudder, made
Stapledon Basin. But she’ll pull through.” my trembling hands knot hard on the
"I hope so, Ron,” Jerry said. "Aston wheel.
has staked everything. ... So much de- It was a thing I could not explain, any
pends on us — a whole new world!” more than the dream of the Seeker. But
The blizzard screaming off the ice in that instant, as surely as if I had seen
shelf, as I brought the ship up, struck like her lying in her coffin, I knew that Jerry
the hand of a demoniac giant. She shud- was doomed.
dered like a stricken thing, and plunged She knew it, too. She felt the same
down again into the mist of ice crystal ghastly intuition — that was the terrible
whipped off the frozen barrier. part. Otherwise I should have ignored
Harding’s wife stifled her instinctive it, set it down to fatigue and my own
cry of fear, but her white small hand went vague fears, for I have never been ruled
convulsively tight on my shoulder. Her by hunches.
gray eyes looked at me, big with that ter- Her face w ent
r
abruptly paler. She
rible question. caught her breath, and her white lips set
"It’s all right, Jerry.” I tried to get For a moment her whole thin body was
some calm into my voice. "Th e Queen has rigid. Then her gray eyes looked at me,
never failed me yet. She's brave as a — suddenly dark, dreadful, shadowed with
woman!” the doom I knew they had seen.
And she didn’t fail me then. She came "Quite a bump, we passed,” I said, as
up again, with motors thundering wide easily as I could. "Made me giddy for
open, through that flying spume of frost. a moment, and nearly got the controls.”
She hung, evenly battling the wind, for a For a long, terrible moment, her tor-
heart-breaking moment above the frozen tured eyes looked into my face, straining
blade that edged the ice plateau. She sank as if to read some awful secret. I tried
— lifted — leapt ahead. not to let her know I had shared that fear-
"And here we are —on the world we’ve ful premonition. At last she swallowed
come to conquer.” uneasily.
Jerry Harding caught a breath of relief, "Ron,” she said uncertainly, "if — if

and her hand relaxed on my shoulder. anything should happen to me, please
 DREADFUL SLEEP 315

look after Aston. He needs someone. He away and invisible in the hazy fury of the

iso’t — he’s not quite himself.” blizzard, rose, I knew, that mighty unex-
And she left me, in a moment, and plored transpolar range that I had
went back to her husband. glimpsed and named the Mountains of
—
Uranus on whose summit, in the dream,
tried to deny or forget that disturb- I had seen the purple pylon of the Seeker.

I ing, uncanny sensation. But it clung I had resolved to discount the dream.

and grew in my brain, like something But now I found myself straining my eyes
evil and alive. And the difficulties ahead through the bleak gray mist, wondering,
seemed suddenly a more terrible barrier dwelling even upon the bright memory of
than the wall of ice we had passed. Where the girl Karalee — until a jutting rocky
lay any hope of success? What impress ridge broke the ice beneath us, and it was
could four men and a woman make upon time to land.
this eternal citadel of winter? Wind and altitude made that landing
The tense hours passed. We drove on difficult. The heavy-burdened plane came
into the blizzard, above the featureless hurtling down far too swiftly. A black
white surface of the Barrier. As our load granite boulder loomed suddenly out of
of fuel was lightened, I fought for alti- the blinding drift-snow whipped along
tude to gain the passes and plateaus be- the surface. Our skids crashed against the
fore us. ice crust. The ship bounced, lurched awk*
The barren summits of the Common- wardly around the boulder, buried her
wealth Range behind, we flew up the nose in the drift beyond.
long inlet of the Barrier, beside Quc-en The flight was ended.
Maud’s Range. The Austral Queen la-
6. The Haunted Camp
bored bravely upward, battled the shriek-
ing wind that hurled her at the black opened a hatch and dug my way to
crags that walled a glacier-carven pass, I the surface. Merry Bell followed me
and we were at last above the polar up into the blizzard. It had moderated to
plateau. a mere fifty-mile gale, but still at nine
We passed seventy miles to the left of thousand feet, at forty below, it could
the Pole itself. For two hours we fought pierce our furs and sear our lungs.
the tempest that raged down beside the A welter of dark outcroppings of shat-
Mountains of Despair, across beyond the tered granite and fantastically carved
Pole, before we reached the only pass. It white drifts surrounded us. The desolate
was the highest on the flight, and there rugged ice beyond was like a wild sea
we met the most savage wind. I had to congealed in the midst of a furious storm.
drop half our reserve tanks of gasoline, The dark ranges that walled the Basin,
before the ship found courage to lift fifty to eighty miles away, were lost in
above the barrier. lead-gray mist.
Beyond we came down into the Staple- Bell was staring about, shivering.
don Basin: the site that Bell had chosen "This ridge is the summit of a moun-
for our attempt to thaw the ice. It was tain, buried under the glacier,” I told him.

an ice-dad plateau nine thousand feet "Our survey showed the ice over most of
high, walled on all sides with dark tre- the Basin to be three to five thousand
”
mendous ranges towering above the feet
glaciers. His tortured thin face was suddenly
Far across it, a hundred and forty miles warm with enthusiasm.
316 WEIRD TALES
"It’s just the wanted, Ron,” he
spot I None of the others had had any pre-
was saying "We’ll set up the
eagerly. vious polar experience. All but Harding
tower on the ridge. The atomic beam it- were willing to follow my leadership in
self will reach to all these mountains. building the camp. But he made himself
And the Basin, when
warmed, will
it is difficult, to put it mildly.
serve as a sort of furnace to moderate all He
wanted Bell to begin erecting his
the continent, with wind-convection, and atomic battery at once. But Bell said that
warm rivers flowing down through the three months or half a year might pass
passes.” before the installation could be completed.
The breathless wonder of his dream And during that time, I knew, without
caught me for a moment. I saw lush ver- good living-quarters we must perish. Bell
dure replace the white desolation of ice, and Jerry did their best to convince Hard-
saw green forests blanket the black flanks ing of this necessity, but he remained sul-
of those mountains that had known no len and unwilling.
life for ten million years. I saw busy Harding’s disturbing change of man-
cities, even, rich plantations spread be- ner seemed always more extreme. There
neath the summer-long day, mines, rail- was no visible physical difference in him
roads, factories. — unless, as I sometimes thought, his pale
"Once land was warm,” Bell’s
this blue eyes had turned a little darker. But
quick voice had run on. "Coal forests, in something had totally changed his nature.
”
the Permo-Carboniferous Had I been superstitious enough to cred-
That brought back my haunting dream: it such a thing, I should have thought
the fantastic beauty of Maru-Mora, and him literally possessed.
all the alien horror of the Sleepers. Jerry For many years he had been a close
Harding’s voice reached me faintly from friend of mine. The long ruddy face be-
the plane, and I recalled the grim pre- neath his untidy mass of yellowish hair
monition that had struck me as we crossed was still unmistakably familiar. Yet
the Barrier. I shuddered, and tried to sometimes, as I caught the new ruthless
forget. hardness in his eyes, I thought I looked
"Our first problem is to build living- upon a stranger.
quarters,” I told Bell. "If we don’t He became increasingly dictatorial,
well, this is mild summer, compared to quarrelsome, even vicious. He was sav-
what is coming.” agely rude, even cruel, to young Tommy
And we set to work at once, to estab- Veering. He cursed him, made rough
lish a winter camp. For the plane we jokes at his expense, ridiculed his youth
cut a sort of hangar in the ice, covered it and timidity. Twice I saw him knock
with protecting blocks of snow. Our liv- Veering down, when they were at work
ing-quarters also were hewn in the gla- together, with no excuse at all.
cier, walled with the packing-cases that And the thin young engineer, through
held our supplies, roofed with snow some quirk of dog-like meekness, accept-
packed on tar-paper. ed all Harding’s offensiveness without any
That occupied the most of our time show of resentment. Indeed, so far as I
until late in March — until the sun, wheel- could tell, he liked the big man all the
ing ever lower and redder and huger and better for this abuse. He kept Harding’s
colder, peered for the last time through a company, and came to side with him in
pass in the Mountains of Uranus, and did any argument.
not return. What most distressed me about Hard-
 DREADFUL SLEEP 317

Ing, however, was his unkindness to Jerry. little laboratory, made continual effort to
He developed a way of saying sharp cruel revive the fossils.
things to her, displaying a venomous "But they aren’t fossils at all,” Hard-
malevolence that I had never suspected ing insisted. "There has been no change
in him. or deterioration since they were alive.

One day at table, for example, saying The microscopic structure is perfect, every

that his tea was cold, he flung it into cell intact!”

Jerry’s face, and began cursing her sav- His weeks of work only deepened the
agely. I should have hit him, then, but puzzle. It was about this time, incident-

ran to me, wiping the scalding ally, that he began to wear colored glasses,
Jerry
liquid out of her eyes, caught my arm, saying that the long hours at the micro-
and begged me not to strike him. scope strained his eyes.
"The newer physics,” he told me once,

T
carried
he rude dwelling
we unloaded Bell’s
it to the chosen site: a bare out-
finished at
equipment and
last,
"would say that these creatures are in a
space-time stasis. The spectroscope shows
that the characteristics of space about their

cropping of living granite, just above the atoms has been altered, warped, so that
camp. Working beneath a canvas shelter no change or motion is possible not —
— for, since the sun had gone, it was
even any time!”
—
growing bitterly cold we began drilling Behind the dark lenses his eyes glit-
tered with a strange excitement.
holes in the rock to anchor the legs of the
tower. "If we could reverse that warping
force, unlock thestasis, they would live
As we cleared the crust of ice from this
again, unaware that even a second had
ledge, Tommy Veering made a curious
passed." His voice was feverish, husky,
discovery. In a crevice he found a num-
terrible. "And that secret, if we learn it,
ber of tiny fossils: lichens, several small
will be a weapon greater than the Gor-
ancient spiders, two minute degenerative
gon’s head.”
hymenopterous and a small am-
insects,
Frankly, I thought the project mere
monite. The specimens were not so re-
folly if not insane delusion, for I had
markable as their state of preservation.
increasing doubts of Harding’s mental
For every tiny limb and segment was in-
balance. But I did not discourage it, be-
tact, diamond-hard.
cause it occupied his time and left him
Veering showed the find to Harding,
less troublesome.
who became oddly excited over it. The erection of Bell’s automatic appa-
“These are the original bodies!” he ex- ratus,meantime, went steadily forward.
claimed, peering at them with a pocket Veering proved himself a skilled and
miscoscope. "There has been no miner- brilliant technician. By midwinter, it
alizing, no substitution as in ordinary
seemed, the battery might be in opera-
petrification. They have been just some- tion. All the ice would be thawed from
how — frozen!” the Basin, Bell promised, by the coming
Mere heat, however, did not thaw of the sun.
them. The effort seemed sheerest folly It is hard to give a true record of those
for the presence of the extinct mollusk weary, dragging months of winter night.
alone was proof that the things had ex- The shadow of dire catastrophe had over-
isted unchanged through geological ages' hung us from the first. My old irrational
— but Harding and Veering, in our rude conviction of approaching tragedy had
318 WEIRD TALES
slowly deepened. Life in the Antarctic is I found myself staring northward, toward
a grim enough business at best, and Hard- the Mountains of Uranus, wondering if

ing’s increasingly evil nature made it, at the Seeker’s purple pylon might indeed
times, almost insupportable. stand on some summit there. But I- could
But, aside from all that, there had been never see it.

something else —something that Bell, and

perhaps even
more keenly than
When I
Jerry,
I.

say that the

must have sensed

camp was haunted,

M arch had gone, and most of April,
when the thing happened that crys-
tallized all my vague apprehensions and
it sounds like superstitious nonsense. Yet, shattered the routine of our life at camp
almost from the day of our arrival, I — that started the dread avalanche that
had a curious, uneasy feeling that it was did not end until all the world had been
— that some strange intangible Presence overwhelmed in horror.
hung about us, alertly watching every The wjiole camp was asleep, after a
move we made, listening to every word long shift spent bolting together the sec-
we said. tions of Bell’s tower. I started suddenly
Bell and Jerry, I think, were more con- awake, alarmed, yet not knowing what
scious of it than I. For I often saw them had roused me. For an instant I lay still,

silent, with cocked heads and strained listening.

intent faces, listening. The wind, which had blown steadily
"It’s nothing, Ron,’’ Jerry said once, for many days, had died. At first I could
when I asked her what she listened for. hear only a soft, weird rustling — the
Her tired face tried to smile. "I’m just whisper of the aurora.
nervous, I guess, worried about poor But suddenly, mingled with that eery
Aston. He has changed so, grown so sussuration, I caught another sound —
much worse —have you noticed?” sound terribly familiar, and yet incred-
And Bell, as we worked together about ible: a thin far wailing, infinitely sweet
his tower, often paused to peer away and infinitely sad. It held all the heart-
across the ice. He
laughed when I spoke broken loneliness of the world, caught
about it, but his white face remained very in slow eery minors, so faint they mocked
grave. the ears.
"Just a feeling,” he said, "that Some- It was the piping of the Seeker of my
thing watching us trying to speak to
is — dream. The voice of Maru-Mora! Or
us, His thin frame abruptly
perhaps.” had Imerely dreamed again? For it had
shivered. 'Tve a queer feeling, Ron,” ceased.
he confessed, "that we shouldn’t thaw the Breathless and trembling, uncertain
ice. - I’m somehow afraid.” His dark tor- that Ihad heard anything at all, I donned
tured eyes stared away again; his voice furs and hastened up out of our ice-bur-
sank low. "Yes, afraid —of what we row, into the polar night. The unutter-
might uncover.” able, appalling splendor of it caught me,
The warning of that singular dream held me for a moment motionless.
came to me an impulse to
again. I felt Complete calm had fallen. The air,

tell Bell about it, but checked my tongue. curiously brilliant with frost, was abso-
He was troubled enough already; I didn’t lutely still. The clear sky was purple-
want to increase his anxiety. black, the southern constellations pale be-
For still I believed it a dream. I dared yond the most brilliant auroral display I

not regard it as anything else. Sometimes ever witnessed. Pure silver, crystal green
 DREADFUL SLEEP 319

and living rose, its curved rays sprayed den arms beckoning. And beneath her,
from beyond the pole. Its rustling, ban- stumbling frantically after her, was —
nered hosts marched endlessly, whisper- man!
ing immemorial secrets of outer space. Caught in a queer paralysis of fasci-
With an effort I broke the aching thrall nated dread, I watched as he toiled up a
of its beauty. I stumbled up to the ledge slippery bank, tottered perilously along
beside Bell’s unfinished tower, and peered the brink of a blank crevasse. The shin-
away across the snow. It lay glittering ing alien siren fled away before him,
and brilliant, dimly flushed with auroral mocking, elusive. He followed her over
color, drifts massed fantastically. the flank of a gleaming drift. They both
Painful as the ring of glass to a violin were gone.
bow, I heard that sound again: an eery It was a moment before I could recover
minor threnody, a resistless call of provo- myself, put down a sense of outraged
cative promise. unreality. Then I shouted, ran along the
And beyond black grotesque
far away, ledge toward the drift where they had
hummocks of bare ice, I saw an incred- vanished.
ible thing. Above the silver snow, plain What the Seeker might be, dream or
in the aurora’s radiance, it drifted. Flew illusion, phantom or alien living being,
— wingless! A tapered spiral, flaring up- I knew not —but I did know that only
ward. A woman’s bust, golden-furred, terrible death could await any man lured
cradled in its shimmering cup. An elfin out across the ice. Was that her way to
woman’s head, golden-crowned, proudly stop our work?
scarlet-crested. Slim golden arms that The aurora dimmed suddenly. In the
beckoned. starlit darkness saw nothing beyond the
I

It was Maru-Mora, the Seeker of my drift. Thin echoes from the ice were the
dream! only answer to my calls. The eery song
And the dream, then, was real. The had ceased, the singer and her victim
purple pylon did tower somewhere from vanished.
the peaks beyond the ice. And lovely Shivering, from the shock of eldritch
Karalee, to whom I had promised in the horror as much from the bitter cold, I

dream to return, must be living reality! stumbled back to the camp. My shouts
A cold tide of horror flowed suddenly had roused the others. Jerry Harding,
over my soul; for the black Tharshoon, bewildered, anxious-eyed, met me as I
the scaled and monstrous Sleepers of the came down into our burrow.
ice, must then be also real — and waiting "What was it, Ron?” she whispered
to be wakened, if we should thaw the apprehensively. "What happened? I
polar ice. woke with the most dreadful feeling.
I had ignored the Seeker’s warning, And where is poor Merry?”
and Karalee’ s tearful appeal. What, now, "Bell?” I gasped.
was to be the penalty? gone from bunk,” she
"He's his
Maru-Mora’s piping came again, allur-
told me.
ing with its uncanny haunting sweetness, And I knew that it was Meriden Bell
terrible with immemorial pain. The au-
who had followed the Seeker across the
rora flooded the sky again, and once more,
snow.
far away, I glimpsed the alien beauty of
the Seeker. You will not want to miss the thrilling chapters of
this fascinating story in next month's WEIRD
TALES,
She flew low but swiftly, calling, gol- We suggest that you reserve your copy at your maga-
zine dealer's now.
y
V£dow By HENRY KUTTNER
on the Screen

A weird story of Hollywood, and the grisly horror that cast its dreadful
shadow across the silver screen as an incredible
motion-picture was run off

ORTURE MASTER was being of fact, I myself didn’t know' how serious
given a sneak preview at a Beverly I was about it. Now she led me into the
Hills theatre. Somehow, when my bar and ordered sidecars.
credit line, "Directed by Peter Haviland,” "Don’t look so miserable, Pete,” she
was flashed on the screen, a little chill of said over the rim of her glass. "The
apprehension shook me, despite the ap- picture’s going over. It’ll gross enough
plause that came from a receptive audi- to suit the boss, and it won’t hurt my

ence. When you’ve been in the picture reputation.”

game for a long time you get these Well, that wasright. Ann had a fat
hunches; I’ve often spotted a dud flicker part,and she’d made the most of it. And
before a hundred feet have been reeled the picture would be good box-office;
off. Yet Torture Master was no worse Universal's Night Key, with Karloff, had
than a dozen similar films I’d handled in been released a few months ago, and the
the past few years. audiences w'ere ripe for another horror
But it was formula, box-office formula. picture.

I could see that. The star was all right; "I know,” I told her, signaling the
the make-up department had done a good bartender to refill my glass. "But I get
job; the dialogue was unusually smooth. tired of these damn hokumy pics. Lord,
Yet the film was obviously box-office, and how r
I’d like to do another Cabinet of
not the sort of film I’d have liked to Doctor Caligari!”
direct. "Or another Ape of God,” Ann sug-
After watching a reel unwind amid an gested.
encouraging scattering of applause, I got I shrugged. "Even that, maybe. There’s
up and went to the lobby. Some of the so much' chance for development of the
gang from Summit Pictures were loung- w'eird on the screen, Ann —and no pro-
ing there, smoking and commenting on ducer will stand for a genuinely good
the picture. Ann Howard, who played picture of that type. They call it arty,

the heroine in T orture Master, noticed my and say it’ll flop. If I branched out on
scowl and pulled me into a corner. She my own — well, Hecht and MacArthur
was that rare type, a girl who will screen tried it, and they’re back on the Holly-
well without a lot of the yellow grease- wood payroll now’.”
paint that makes you look like an ani- Someone Ann knew came up and en-
mated corpse. She was small, and her gaged her in conversation. I saw a man
ha/r and eyes a^d skin were brown I’d — beckoning, and with a hasty apology left
like to have seen her play Refer Ran. That Ann to join him. It was Andy Worth,
type, you know. Hollywood’s dirtiest columnist. I knew
I had occasionally proposed to her, but him for a double-cros$c-r and a skunk, but
she never took me seriously. As a matter I also knew that he could get more inside
320 W. T. 4
 THE SHADOW ON THE SCREEN 321

information than a brace of Winchells. "Yeah?” I was cautious. I had to be,

He was a short, fat chap with a meticu- with this walking scandal-sheet. "How’s
lously cultivated mustache and sleeky po- that?”
maded black hair. Worth fancied himself He took a deep breath. "Well, you
as a ladies’ man, and spent a great deal understand that I haven’t got the real
of his time trying to blackmail actresses lowdown, and it’s all hearsay but I’ve —
into having affairs with him. found a picture that'll make the w eirdest r

That didn’t make him a villain, of flicker ever canned look side”
course. I like anybody who can carry on I suspected a gag. "Okay, what is it?
an intelligent conversation for ten min- Torture Master?”
utes, and Worth could do that. He fin- "Eh? No — though Blake’s yam de-
gered his mustache and said, "I heard you served better adaptation than your boys
talking about Ape of God. A coincidence, gave it. No, Pete, the one I’m talking
Pete.” about isn’t for general release — isn’t com-

"Hs was lifted through a welter of coiling, ropy tentacles."

W. T. 5
322 WEIRD TALES
pleted, in fact.I saw a few rashes of it. a film that’s — unearthly. I tell you it

A one-man affair; title’s The Nameless. made my flesh creep.’’

Arnold Keene’s doing it.” "Who's the star?” I asked.

"Unknowns. Russian you know.

W
trick,

orth sat back and watched how I The real star is a—a shadow.”
took that. And Imust have shown I stared at him.
my amazement. For it was Arnold Keene "That’s right, Pete. The shadow of
who had directed the notorious Ape of something that’s never shown on the
God, which had wrecked his promising screen. Doesn’t sound like much, eh?
career in films. The public doesn’t know But you ought to see it!”

that picture. It never was released. Sum- "I’d like to,” I told him. "In fact, I’ll
mit junked it. And they had good cause, do just that. Maybe he’ll release it through
although it was one of the most amaz- Summit.”
ingly effective weird films I’ve ever seen.
Worth chuckled. "No chance. No
Keene had shot most of it down in Mex- studio would release that flicker. I’m not
ico, and he’d been able to assume virtual even going to play it up in my dirt sheet.
dictatorship of the location troupe. Sev- This is the real McCoy, Pete.”
eral Mexicans had died at the time, and
"What’s Keene’s address?” I asked.
there had been some ugly rumors, but it
had all been hushed up. I’d talked with
Worth gave it to me. "But don’t go
out till Wednesday night,” he said. "The
several people who had been down near
rough prints ’ll be ready then, or most of
Taxco with Keene, and they spoke of the
man with peculiar horror. He had been them. And keep it under you hat, of
course.”
willing to sacrifice almost anything to
make Ape of God a masterpiece of its
A group of autograph hunters came up
type. just then, and Worth and I were sepa-
rated. It didn’t matter. I’d got the in-
It was an unusual picture —there was formation I needed. My mind was seeth-
all

no question about that. There’s only one

ing with fantastic surmises. Keene was
master print of the and it’s kept in
film,
one of the great geniuses of the screen,
a locked Very few have
vault at Summit.
and his talent lay in the direction of the
seen it. For what Machen had done in
macabre. Unlike book publishers, the
weird literature, Keene had done on the
no small, discriminat-
screen —
and it was literally amazing.
studios catered to
ing audiences. A film must suit every-
Worth, "Arnold Keene, eh?
I said to body.
had a sneaking sympathy for
I’ve always Finally I broke away and took Ann to
the man. But I thought he’d died long a dance at Bel- Air. But I hadn’t forgot-
ago.” ten Keene, and the next night I was too
"Oh, no. He bought a place near Tu- impatient to wait. I telephoned Worth,
junga and went into hiding. He didn’t but he was out. Oddly enough, I was
have mudi dough after the blow-up, you unable to get in touch with him during
know, and it took him about five years the next few days; even his paper couldn’t
to get together enough dinero to start his help me. A furious editor told me the
Nameless. He always said Ape of God Associated Press had been sending him
was a failure, and that he intended to do hourly telegrams asking for Worth’s
a film that would be a masterpiece of copy; but the man had vanished com-
weirdness. Well, he’s done it. He’s canned pletely. I had a hunch.
 THE SHADOW ON THE SCREEN 323

T WAS Tuesday night when I drove out a reincarnated Gilles de Rais, and sadism.
I of the studio and took a short cut That isn’t true weirdness.”
through Griffith Park, past the Planetari- I was interested. "That’s correct. But
um, to Glendale. From there I went on to the film had genuine power »”

Tujunga, to the address Worth had given "Man has nothing of the weird in him
me. Once or twice I had an uneasy sus- intrinsically. It is only the hints of the
picion that a black coupe was trailing me, utterly abnormal and unhuman that give
but I couldn’t be sure. one the true feeling of weirdness. That,
Arnold Keene's house was in a little and human reactions to such supernatural
canyon hidden back in the Tujunga moun- phenomena. Look at any great weird
tains. I had to follow a winding dirt work The Horla, which tells of a man’s
road for several miles, and ford a streafn reaction to a creature utterly alien, Black-
or two, before I readied it. The place was wood's Willows, Machen’s Black Seal,
built against the side of the canyon, and Lovecraft’s Color Out of Space — all these
a man stood on the porch and watdied deal with the absolutely alien influencing
me as I braked my car to a stop. normal Sadism and death may con-
lives.

It was Arnold Keene. I recognized tribute, but alone they cannot produce the
him immediately. He was a slender man true, intangible atmosphere of weird-
under middle height, with a closely ness.”
cropped bristle of gray hair; his face was I had read all these tales. "But you
coldly austere. There had been a rumor can’t film the indescribable. How could
that Keene had at one time been an offi- you show die invisible beings of The
cer in Prussia before he came to Holly- Willows?"
wood and Americanized his name, and, Keene hesitated. "I think I’ll let my
scrutinizing him, I could well believe it. film answer that. I have a projection
"
His eyes were like pale blue marbles, room downstairs
curiously shallow. The bell rang sharply. I could not help
He said, "Peter Haviland? I did not noticing the quick glance Keene darted
expect you until tomorrow night.” at me. With an apologetic gesture he
I shook hands. "Sorry if I intrude,” I went out and presently returned with Ann
apologized. "The fact is, I got impatient Howard at his side. She was smiling
after what Worth told me about your rather shakily.
film. He isn’t here, by any chance?” "Did you forget our date, Pete?” she
The shallow eyes were unreadable. asked me.
"No. But come in. Luckily, the develop- I blinked,and suddenly remembered.
ing took less time than I had anticipated. Two weeks ago I had promised to take
I need only a few more shots to complete Ann to an affair in Laguna Beach this
my task.” evening, but in my preoccupation with
He ushered me into the house, which Keene’s picture the date had slipped my
was thoroughly modern and comfortably mind. I stammered apologies.
furnished. Under the influence of good "Oh, that's all right,” she broke in. "I’d
cognac my suspicions began to dissolve. much rather stay here —that is, if Mr.
”
I told Keene I had always admired his Keene doesn’t mind. His picture
Ape of God . "You know about it?”

He made a wry grimace. "Amateurish, "I told her,” Keene said. "When she
Haviland. I depended too much on ho- explained why she had come, I took the
kum in that film. Merely devil-worship, liberty of inviting her to stay to watch the
324 WEIRD TALES
film. I did not want her to drag you at the start. Sound adds nothing to weird-
away, you see,” he finished, smiling. ness, and it helps to destroy the illusion
"Some cognac for Miss — eh?” of reality. Later, suitable music will be

I introduced them. dubbed in.”

"For Miss Howard, and then The I did not answer. For a book had
"Nameless.” flashed on the gray oblong before us
At his warning note
words a tiny tli at amazing tour de force, The Circus of

seemed to throb in my
I had been brain. Doctor Lao. A hand opened it, and a
fingering a heavy metal paperweight, and long finger followed the lines as a tone-
now, as Keene’s attention was momenta- less voice read:

rily diverted to the sideboard, I slipped it, "These are the sports, the offthrows of
on a sudden impulse, into my pocket. It the universe instead of the species; these
would be no defense, though, against a are the weird children of the lust of the
gun. spheres. Mysticism explains them where
What was wrong with me, I wondered? sdence cannot. Listen: when that great
An atmosphere of distrust and suspicion mysterious fecundity that peopled the
seemed to have sprung out of nothing. worlds at the command of the gods had

As Keene ushered us down into his pro- done with its birth-giving, when the celes-
jection room, the skin of my back seemed tial midwives all had left, when life had

to crawl with the expectation of attack. begun in the universe, the primal womb-
It was inexplicable, but definitely un- thing found itself still unexhausted, its

pleasant. loins still potent. So that awful fertility

tossed on
couch in a final fierce out-
its

K eene was busy

jection booth,
"Modern machinery
for a time in the pro-
and then he joined
is a blessing,” he
us.
break of life-giving and gave birth to
these nightmare beings, these abortions of
the world.”
said with heavy jocularity. "I can be as The voice ceased. The book faded, and
lazy as I wish. I needed no help with there swam into view a mass of tumbled
the shooting, once the automatic cameras ruins. The ages had pitted the man-
were installed. The projector, too, is au- carved rocks with cracks and scars; the
tomatic.” bas-relief figures were scarcely recog-
I felt Ann move closer to me in the nizable. I w'as reminded of certain ruins

gloom. I put my arm around her and I had seen in Yucatan.

said, "It helps, yes. What about releas- The camera swung down. The mins
ing the picture, Mr. Keene?” seemed to grow larger. A yawning hole
There was a harsh note in his voice. gaped in the earth.
"It will not be released. The world is Beside me Keene said, "The site of a
uneducated, not ready for it. In a hun- ruined temple. Watch, now.”
dred years, perhaps, it will achieve the The effect was that of moving forward
fame it deserves. I am doing it for poster- into the depths of a subterranean pit.

ity, and for the sake of creating a weird For a moment the screen was in darkness;
masterpiece on the screen.” then a stray beam of sunlight rested on
With a -muffled dick the projector be- an idol that stood in what was apparently
gan to operate, and a title flashed on the an underground cavern. A narrow crack
screen: The Nameless. of light showed in the roof. The idol
Keene’s voice came out of the darkness. was starkly hideous.
"It’s a silent fiim, except for one sequence I got only a flashing glimpse, but the
 THE SHADOW ON THE SCREEN 325

impression on my mind was that of a by deft montage shots, the audience

bulky, ovoid shape like a pineapple or a learned that Keene in his search for au-
pine-cone. The thing had certain doubt- thenticity had gone down into Mexico,
ful features which lent it a definitely un- and had, with the aid of an ancient scroll,
pleasant appearance; but it was gone in a found the site of a ruined Aztec temple.
flash, dissolving into a brightly lighted And here, as I say, reality was left behind
drawing-room, thronged with gay couples. as the film entered a morbid and extraor-
The story proper began at that point. dinary phase.
None of the actors or actresses was known
to me;
worked
Keene must have hired them and
secretly in his house. Most of the
interiors and a few of the exteriors
T here was a god hidden beneath
ruined temple —
god, which had been worshipped even
a long-forgotten
this

seemed to have been taken in this very before the Aztecs had sprung from the
canyon. The director had used the womb of the centuries. At least, the na-
"parallel” trick which saves so much tives had considered it a god, and had
money for studios yearly. I’d often done erected a temple in its honor, but Keene
it myself. It simply means that the story hinted that the tiling was actually a sur-
is tied in with real life as closely as pos- vival, one of the "off throws of the uni-
sible; that is, when I had a troupe working verse,” unique and baroque, which had
up at Lake Arrowhead last winter, and an come down through the eons in an exist-
unexpected snowfall changed the scene, ence totally alien to mankind. The crea-

I had the continuity rewritten so that the ture was never actually seen on the screen,
necessary scenes could take place in snow. save for a few brief glimpses in the
Similarly, Keene had paralleled his shadowed, underground temple. It was
own experiences —sometimes almost too roughly barrel-shaped, and perhaps ten
closely. feet high, studded with odd spiky pro-
The Nameless told of a man, ostra- jections. The chief feature was a gem set
cized by his fellows because of his fanati- in the thing’s rounded apex a smoothly —
cal passion for the morbid and bizarre, polished jewel as large as a child’s head.
who determined to create a work of art It was in this gem that the being's life
— a living masterpiece of sheer weirdness. was supposed to have its focus.
He had experimented before by directing It was not dead, but neither was it

films that were sufficiently unusual to stir alive, in the accepted sense of that term.
up considerable comment. But this did When the Aztecs had filled the temple
not satisfy him. It was acting and he— with the hot stench of blood the thing
wanted something more than that. No had lived, and the jewel had flamed with
one can convincingly fake reaction to unearthly radiance. But with the passage
horror, not even the most talented actor, of time the sacrifices had ceased, and the
he contended. The genuine emotion must being had sunk into a state of coma akin
be felt in order to be transferred to the to hibernation. In the picture Keene
screen. brought it to life.
It was here that The Nameless ceased He transported it secretly to his home,
to parallel Keene’s own experiences, and and there, in an underground room hol-
branched out into sheer fantasy. The pro- lowed beneath the house, he placed the
tagonist in the film was Keene himself, monster-god. The room was built with
but this was not unusual, as directors an eye for the purpose for which Keene
often act in their own productions. And, intended it; automatic cameras and clever
326 WEIRD TALES
lighting features were installed, so that of the monster god! The man saw it. He
pictures could be shot from several differ- turned.
ent angles at once, and pieced together Stark horror sprang into his face, and
later as Keene cut the film. And now at sight of that utterly ghastly and realistic

there entered something of the touch of expression a chill struck through me.
genius which had made Keene famous. This was almost too convincing. The
He was clever, I had always realized man could not be merely acting.
that. Yet in the scenes that were next But, if he was, his acting was superb,
unfolded I admired not so much the and so W'as Keene’s direction. The shad-
technical tricks —
which were familiar ow on the wall stirred, and a thrill of
—
enough to me as the marvelously clever movement shook it. It rocked and seemed
way in whicli Keene had managed to in- to rise, supported by adozen tentacular
ject realism into the acting. His charac- appendages that uncoiled from beneath
ters did not act —they lived. its base. The spikes — changed. They
Or, rather, they died. For in the pic- lengthened. They coiled and writhed,
ture they were thrust into the under- hideously worm-like.
'

ground room to die horribly as sacrifices It wasn’t the metamorphosis of the

to the monster-god from the Aztec tem- shadow that held me motionless in my
ple. Sacrifice was supposed to bring the chair. was the appalling ex-
Rather, it

thing to life, to cause the jewel in which pression of sheer horror on the man’s
its existence was bound to flare with fan- face. He stood gaping as the shadow
tastic splendor. The first sacrifice was, I toppled and swayed on the wall, grow-
think, themost effective. ing larger and larger. Then he fled, his
The underground room in which the mouth an open square of terror. The
god was hidden was large, but quite va- shadow paused, with an odd air of inde-
cant, save for a curtained alcove which cision, and slipped slowly along the wall

held the idol. A barred doorway led to out of range of the camera.
the upper room, and here Keene appeared But there were other cameras, and
on the screen, revolver in hand, herding Keene had used his cutting-shears deftly.
before him a man — overall-clad, with a The movements of the man were mir-
stubble of black beard on his stolid face. rored on the screen; the glaring lights
Keene swung open the door, motioned swung and flared; and ever the grim
his captive into the great room. He closed shadow crawled hideously across the wall.
the barred door, and through the grating The thing that cast it was never shown
could be seen busy at a switchboard. just the shadow, and it was a dramatically
Light flared. The man stood near the effective trick. Too many directors, I

bars, and then, at Keene’s gesture with knew, could not have resisted the tempta-

his weapon, moved forward slowly to the tion to show the monster, thus destroy-
far wall. He stood there, staring around ing the illusion — for papier-mache and
vaguely, dull apprehension in his face. rubber, no matter how cleverly con-
Light threw his shadow in bold relief on structed, cannot convincingly ape reality.

the wall. At last the shadows merged — the gi-

Then another shadow leaped into ex- gantic swaying thing with its coiling ten-

istence beside him. and the black shadow of the man

tacles,

It was barrel-shaped, gigantic, studded thatwas caught and lifted, struggling

with blunt spikes, and capped by a round and kicking frantically. The shadows
dark blob —the life-jewel. The shadow —
merged and the man did not reappear.
 THE SHADOW ON THE SCREEN 327 .

Only the dark blob capping the great know, Haviland, for a reason you’ll un-

shadow faded and flickered, as though derstand later.”

strange light were streaming from it; the I said, "There’ll be some visitors here

light that was fed by sacrifice, the jewel for you soon, Keene. You .don’t think

that was — life. I’d neglect normal precautions!”

He shrugged. "You’re lying, of course.
me came a Also you’re unarmed, or you'd have had
B
gloom.
eside
Ann stir
there
and move
Keene’s voice came from some
rustle.

closer in
I felt

the your gun out by now. I didn’t expect you

until tomorrow night, but I’m prepared.
distance away. In a word, what I have to tell you is this:

"There were several more sacrifice the film you just saw is a record of actual

scenes, Haviland, but I haven’t patched events.”

them in yet, except for the one you’ll see Ann’s teeth sank into her lip, but I
in a moment now. As I said, the film didn’t say anything. I waited, and Keene
isn’t finished.” resumed.

I did not answer. My eyes were on the

"Whether you believe me or not
doesn’t matter, for you’ll have to believe
screen as the fantastic tale unfolded. The
in a few minutes. I told you something
pictured Keene was bringing another vic-
tim to his cavern, a short, fat man with
of my motive, my desire to create a genu-
ine masterpiece of weirdness. That’s what
sleekly pomaded black hair. I did not
I’ve done, or will have done before to-
see his face until hehad been imprisoned
morrow. Quite a number of vagrants and
in and then, abruptly, there
the cave,
laborers have disappeared, and the col-
came a close-up shot, probably done with
umnist, Worth, as well; but I took care to
a telescopic lens. His plump face, with
leave no clues. You’ll be the last to van-
its tiny mustache, leaped into gigantic
visibility, and I recognized Andy Worth. ish —you and this girl.”
"You’ll never be able to show the
was the missing columnist, but for
It
film,” I told him.
the first time I saw his veneer of sophisti-
"What of You’re a hack, Haviland,
it?
cation lacking. Naked fear crawled in
and you can’t understand what it means
his eyes, and I leaned forward in my seat
to create a masterpiece. Is a work of art
as the ghastly shadow
barrel-shaped
any less beautiful because it’s hidden?
sprang out on the wall. Worth saw it,
and the expression on his face was shock-
I’ll see the picture —and after I’m dead
the world will see it, and realize my
ing. I pushed back my chair and got up
genius even though they may fear and
as the lights came on. The screen went
hate its expression. The reactions of my
blank.
unwilling actors — that’s the trick. As a
Arnold Keene was staanding by the director, you should know that there’s no
door, erect and military as ever. He had substitute for realism. The reactions were
a gun in his hand, and its muzzle was not faked — thatwas obvious enough.
aimed at my stomach. The first sacrifice was that of a clod an —
"You had better sit down, Haviland,” unintelligent moron, whose fears were
he said quietly. "You too, Miss Howard. largely superstitious. The next sacrifice
I’ve something to tell you and I don’t — was of a higher type a vagrant who —
wish to be melodramatic about it. This came begging to my door some months
gun” —he glanced at it wryly
— "is neces- ago. You will complete the group, for
sary. There are a few things you must you’ll know just what you’re facing, and
328 WEIRD TALES
your attempt to rationalize your fear will vicious arc, smashing it against Ann’s
lend an interesting touch. Both of you head.
will stand up, with your hands in the air, She saw it coming too late, and her
and precede me into this passage.” upflung hand failed to ward off the blow.
All this came out tonelessly and swift- She dropped without a sound, a little
ly, quite as though it were a rehearsed blood oozing from her temple.
trickle of

speech. His hand slid over the wall be- Keene stepped over her body to a switch-
side him, and a black oblong widened in board set in the rock wall.

the oak paneling. I stood up. Light lanced with intolerable brilliance
"Do as he says, Ann,” I said. "Maybe into my eyes. I shut them tightly, open-
”
I can ing them after a moment to stare around
"No, you can't,” Keene interrupted, apprehensively. I recognized my sur-
gesturing impatiently with his weapon. roundings. I was in the cave of sacrifice,

"You won’t have the chance. Hurry up.” the underground den I had seen on the
We
went through the opening in the screen. Cameras high up on the walls
wall and Keene followed, touching a stud began to operate as I discovered them.
that flooded the passage with light. It From various points blinding arc- lights
was a narrow tunnel that slanted dow’n streamed down upon me.
through solid rock for perhaps ten feet A gray curtain shielded a space on the
to a steep stairway. He herded us down far wall, but this was drawn upward to
this, after sliding the panel shut. reveal a deep alcove. There was an object
"It’s well hidden,” he said, indicating within that niche — a barrel-shaped thing
metal sheathing —indeed, the entire cor- ten feet high, studded with spikes, and
ridor was lined with metal plates. "This crowned with a jewel that pulsed and
lever opens it from within, but no one glitteredwith cold flame. It was gray
but me can find the spring which opens and varnished-looking, and it was the
it from without. The police could wreck original of Keene’s Aztec god.
the house without discovering this pas- Somehow I felt oddly reassured as I

sage.” examined the thing. It was a model, of

That seemed worth remembering, but
of little practical value at the moment.
Ann and I went down the stairway until
it ended in another short passage. Our
way was blocked by a door of steel bars,
which Keene unlocked with a key he took
from his pocket. The passage where we
stood was dimly lighted; there were sev-
course, inanimate and dead; for certainly
no life of any kind could exist in sudi
an abnormality. Keene might have in-
stalled machinery of some sort within it,
however.
"You see, Haviland,” Keene said from
beyond the bars, "the thing actually ex-
ists. I got on the trail of it in an old

eral chairs here; and the space beyond the parchment I found in the Huntington Li-
barred door was not lighted at all. brary. It had been considered merely an
interesting bit of folk-lore, but I saw
When
K eene opened the door and gestured
me through it. He locked it behind
me and turned to Ann. Her face, I saw,
something else in it.

Ape of God in Mexico I discovered the

ruined temple, and what lay forgotten
I was making

was paper-white in the pale glow. behind the altar.”

What happened after that brought an He touched a switch, and light

angry curse to my lips. Without warn- streamed out from the alcove behind the
ing Keene swung the automatic in a short, thing. Swiftly I turned. On the wall be-
 THE SHADOW ON THE SCREEN 329

hind me was my own shadow, grotesquely out, and a sickening musky stencil filled

elongated, and beside was the squat,it my nostrils. I leaped away, racing across
amorphous patch of blackness I had seen the cave again. The arc-lights died and
on the screen upstairs. others flared into being as Keene manipu-
My back was toward Keene, and my lated the switchboard. He was adjusting
fingers crept into my pocket, touching the lights, so that our shadows would
the metal paperweight I had dropped not be lost — so that in the climax of The
there earlier that evening. Briefly I con- Nameless die shadow of that ghastly hor-
sidered the possibility of hurling the thing ror would be thrown on the cave wall
at Keene, and then decided against it. beside me.
The bars were too close together, and the
man would shoot me at any sign of dan- t was an infernal game of tag we
gerous hostility. I played there, in those shifting lights
My were drawn to the shadow on
eyes that glared down while the camera lenses
the wall. was moving.
It watched dispassionately. I fled and
It rocked slightly, and lifted. The dodged with my pulses thundering and
spikes lengthened. The thing was no blood pounding in my temples, and ever
longer inanimate and dead, and as I die grim shadow moved slowly across the
swung about, stark amazement gripping walls, while my legs began to ache with
me, I saw the incredible metamorphosis the strain. For hours, perhaps, or eons,
that had taken place in the thing that I fled.

cast the shadow. There would come brief periods of

It was no longer barrel-shaped. A respite when I would cling to the bars,
dozen smooth, glistening appendages, cursing Keene, but he w ould not answer. r

ending in flat pads, supported the snake- His hands flickered over the switchboard
thin body. And all over that grayish up- as he adjusted the arc-lights, and his eyes
right pole tentacles sprouted and length- never paused in their roving examination
ened, writhing into ghastly life as the of the cave. In the end it was this that
horror awakened. Keene had not lied, saved me.
and the monstrous survival he had For Keene did not see Ann stir and
brought from the Aztec temple was lum- open her eyes. He did not see the girl,
bering from the alcove, myriad ten-
its after a swift glance around, get quietly
tacles alive with frightful hunger! to her feet. Luckily she was behind
Keene saved me. He saw me standing Keene, and he did not turn.
motionless with abysmal fear in the path I tried to keep my eyes away from Ann,

of that gigantic, nightmare being, and but I do not think I succeeded. At the
realizing that he was being cheated of his last moment I saw* Keene’s face change,
picture, the man shouted at me to run. and he started back; but the chair in
His hoarse voice broke the spell that held Ann’s hands crashed down and splintered
me unmoving, and I whirled and fled on the man’s head. He fell to his knees,
across the cave to the barred door. Skin clawing at the air, and then collapsed
ripped from my hands as I tore at the inertly.

bars. I was on the far side of the cave, and

"Run!’’ Keene yelled at me, his shal- my attention was momentarily diverted
low eyes blazing. "It can't move fast! from the monster. I had been watching
”
Look out it from the comer of my eye, expecting

A writhing, snake-like thing lashed to be able to dodge and leap away before
330 WEIRD TALES
it came too close; but it lumbered forward I saw Ann. She was still holding
with a sudden burst of speed. Although Keene’s gun, and in her other hand was
I tried to spring dear I failed; a tentacle the key with which she had unlocked the
whipped about my legs and sent me door. She came running toward ipe, and
sprawling. As I tried to roll away an- I went swiftly to meet her.

other smooth gray coil got my left arm. I took the gun and made sure it was
Intolerable agony dug into my shoul- loaded. ''Come on,” I said, curtly.

der as I was lifted. I heard Ann scream, "We’re getting out of here.”
and a gun barked angrily. Bullets
my arm
plopped into the smooth flesh of the
monster, but it paid no attention. I was
lifted through a welter of coiling, ropy
A
door,
nn's
>.
fingers
tightly as
were gripping
we went through
past the prone figure of Keene,
the

tentacles, until just above me was the and up the stairway. The lever behind
flaming jewel in which the creature’s life the panel was not difficult to operate,
was centered. and I followed Ann through the opening
Remembrance of Keene’s words spurred into the theater. Then I paused, listen-
me to action; this might be the monster’s ing.
vulnerable point. The paperweight was Ann turned, watching me, a question
still in my pocket, and I clawed it out in her eyes. "What is it, Pete?”
desperately. I hurled it with all my "Listen,” I said. "Get the cans of film
strength at the shining gem. And the from the projection booth. We’ll take
jewel shattered! them with us and bum them.”
”
There came a shrill vibration, like the "But —you’re not
tinkling of countless tiny crystalline bells. be with you in a minute,” I told
"I’ll

Piercingly sweet, it shrilled in my ears, her, and swung the panel shut.
and died away quickly. And suddenly I went down the stairs swiftly and
nothing existed but light. very quietly, my gun ready and my -ears
It was as though the shattering of the alert for the low muttering I had heard

gem had released a sea of incandescent from below.

flame imprisoned within it.
the arc-lights faded beside this flood of
silvery radiance that bathed
glory of Arcturus, the blaze of tropical
moonlight, were in the light.
Swiftly it faded and fled away.
myself dropping, and pain lanced into
my wrenched shoulder as I struck the
ground. I heard Ann’s voice.
Dazedly I got up, expecting to see the
monster towering above me. But it was
gone. In its place, a few feet away, was
the barrel-shaped thing I had first seen
The glare of Keene was no longer unconscious. He
was standing beside die switchboard with
me. The cold his back to me, and over his shoulder I
could see the shadow of the monster-god
sprawling on the wall, inert and lifeless.
I felt Keene was chanting something, in a lan-
guage I did not know, and his hands
were moving in strange gestures.
God knows what unearthly powers
Keene had acquired in his search for
horror! For as I stood there, watching
the patch of blackness on the cave wall,
I saw a little shudder rock that barrel-

in the alcove. There was a gaping cav-
ity in the rounded apex where the jewel
had been. And, somehow, I sensed that
the creature was no longer deadly, no
longer a horror.
shaped shadow of horror, while a single
spike abruptly lengthened into a tentacle
thatgroped out furtively and drew back
and vanished.
Then I killed Arnold Keene.
“We shall meet again, perhaps in the shining mists of Orion's Sword."

the Wall of Sleep

By H. P. LOVECRAFT
What strange, splendid yet terrible experiences came to the poor mountaineer
—
in the hours of sleep? a story of a supernal being
from Algol, the Demon-Star

HAVE often wondered if die ma- greater number of our nocturnal visions
of mankind ever pause to re- are perhaps no more than faint and fan-
I jority
flect upon the occasionally titanic sig- tastic reflections of our waking experi-
nificance of dreams, and of the obscure ences —Freud to the contrary with his

world to which they belong. Whilst the puerile symbolism — diere are still a cer-
331
332 WEIRD TALES
tain remainder whose immundane and South, law and morals are non-existent;
ethereal character permits of no ordinary and their general mental status is prob-
interpretation, and whose vaguely excit- ably below that of any other section of
ing and disquieting effect suggests pos- the native American people.
sible minute glimpses into a sphere of Joe Slater, who came to the institution
mental existence no less important than in the vigilant custody of four state police-
physical life, yet separated from that life men, and who was described as a highly
by an all but impassable barrier. From dangerous character, certainly presented
my experience I cannot doubt but that no evidence of his perilous disposition
man, when lost to terrestrial conscious- when I first beheld him. Though well
ness, is indeed sojourning in another and above the middle stature, and of some-
uncorporeal life of far different nature what brawny frame, he was given an ab-
from the life we know, and of which only surd appearance of harmless stupidity by
the slightest and most indistinct memories the pale, sleepy blueness of his small
linger after waking. From those blurred watery eyes, the scantiness of his neglect-
and fragmentary memories we may infer ed and never-shaven growth of yellow
much, yet prove little. We may guess that beard, and the drooping of his
listless

in dreams life, matter, and vitality, as the heavy nether lip. His age was unknown,
earth knows such things, are not neces- since among his kind neither family rec-
sarily constant; and that time and space ords nor permanent family ties exist; but
do not exist as our waking selves com- from the baldness of his head in front,
prehend them. Sometimes I believe that and from the decayed condition of his
this less material life is our truer life, and teeth, the head surgeon wrote him down
that our vain presence on the terraqueous as a man of about forty.
globe is itself the secondary or merely From the medical and court documents
virtual phenomenon. we learned all that could be gathered of
It was from a youthful revery filled his case: This man, a vagabond, hunter
with speculations of this sort that I arose and trapper, had always been strange in
one afternoon in the winter of 1900-01, the eyes of his primitive associates. He
when to the state psychopathic institution had habitually slept at night beyond the
in which I served as an interne was ordinary time, and upon waking would
brought the man whose case has ever often talk of unknown things in a man-
since haunted me so unceasingly. His ner so bizarre as to inspire fear even in
name, as given on the records, was Joe the hearts of an unimaginative populace.
Slater, or Slaader, and his appearance was Not that his form of language was at all

that of the typical denizen of the Cats-
kill Mountain region; one of
strange, repellent scions of a primitive
Colonial peasant stock whose isolation for
nearly three centuries in the hilly fast-
nesses of a little-traveled countryside has
caused them to sink to a kind of barbaric
degeneracy, rather than advance with their
more fortunately placed brethren of the
Among these odd
thickly settled districts.
folk, who correspond exactly to the deca-
dent element of "white trash” in the
unusual, for he never spoke save in the
those debased patois of his environment; but
the tone and tenor of his utterances were
of such mysterious wildness, that none
might listen without apprehension. He
himself was generally as terrified and
and within an hour
baffled as his auditors,
afterawakening would forget all that he
had said, or at least all that had caused
him to say what he did; relapsing into a
bovine, half-amiable normality like that
of the other hill-dwellers.
 BEYOND THE WALL OF SLEEP 333

As Slater grew older, it appeared, his party, whose purpose (whatever it may
matutinal aberrations had gradually in- have been originally) became that of a
creased in frequency and violence; till sheriff’s posse after one of the seldom
about a month before his arrival at the popular state troopers had •
by accident
institution had occurred the shocking observed, then questioned, and finally

tragedy which caused his arrest by the joined the seekers.

authorities. One day near noon, after a
profound sleep begun in a whisky de-
bauch at about five of the previous after-
noon, the man had roused himself most
O N the was found
third day Slater
unconscious in the hollow of a tree,
and taken to the nearest jail, where alien-
suddenly, with ululations so horrible and istsfrom Albany examined him as soon
unearthly that they brought several neigh- To them he told a
as his senses returned.

bors to his cabin —

a filthy sty where he simple story.He had, he said, gone to
dwelt with a family as indescribable as sleepone afternoon about sundown after
himself. Rushing out into the snow, he drinking much liquor. He had awaked
had flung his arms aloft and commenced to find himself standing bloody-handed
a series of leaps directly upward in the in the snow before his cabin, the mangled
air; the while shouting his determination corpse of his neighbor Peter Slader at his
to reach some "big, big cabin with bright- feet. he had taken to the
Horrified,
ness in the roof and walls and floor and woods in a effort to escape from
vague
the loud queer music far away.” As two the scene of what must have been his
men of moderate size sought to restrain crime. Beyond these tilings he seemed to
him, he had struggled with maniacal know nothing, nor could the expert ques-
force and fury, screaming of his desire tioning of his interrogators bring out a
and need to find and kill a certain "thing single additional fact.
that shines and shakes and laughs.” At That night Slater slept quietly, and the
length, after temporarily felling one of next morning he wakened with no singu-
his detainers with a sudden blow, he had lar feature save a certain alteration of ex-
flung himself upon the other in a demo- pression. Doctor Barnard, who had been
niac ecstasy of blood-thirstiness, shriek- watching the patient, thought he noticed
ing fiendishly that he would "jump high in the pale blue eyes a certain gleam of
in the air and burn his way through any- peculiar quality, and in the flaccid lips an
thing that stopped him.” all but imperceptible tightening, as if of
Family and neighbors had now fled in intelligent determination. But when
a panic, and when the more courageous of questioned, Slater relapsed into the habit-
them returned, Slater was gone, leaving ual vacancy of the mountaineer, and only
behind an unrecognizable pulp-like thing reiterated what he had said on the pre-
that had been a living man but an hour ceding day.
before. None of the mountaineers had On the third morning occurred the
dared to pursue him, and it is likely that first of the man’s mental attacks. After
they would have welcomed his death from some show of uneasiness in sleep, he burst
the cold; but when several mornings later forth into a frenzy so powerful that the
they heard his screams from a distant ra- combined efforts of four men were need-
vine they realized that he had somehow ed to bind him in a strait jacket. The
managed to survive, and that his removal alienists listened with keen attention to
in one way or another would be necessary. his words, since their curiosity had been
Then had followed an armed searching- aroused to a high pitch by the suggestive
334 WEIRD TALES
yet mostly conflicting and incoherent ing mind of this basically inferior man.
storiesof his family and neighbors. Slater With due formality Slater w as tried for r

raved for upward of fifteen minutes, bab- murder, acquitted on the ground of in-
bling in his backu-oods dialect of green sanity, and committed to the institution

edifices of light, oceans of space, strange wherein I held so humble a post.

music, and shadowy mountains and val-
leys. But most of all did he dwell upon have said that I am a constant specu-
some mysterious blazing entity that shook I lator concerning dream-life, and from
and laughed and mocked at him. This this you may judge of the eagerness with

vast, vague personality seemed to have which I applied myself to the study of
done him a terrible wrong, and to kill it the new patient as soon as I had fully
in triumphant revenge was his para- ascertained the facts of his case. He
mount desire. In order to reach it, he seemed to sense a certain friendliness in
said, he would soar through abysses of me, born no doubt of the interest I could
emptiness, burning every obstacle that not conceal, and the gentle manner in
stood in his way. Thus ran his discourse, which I questioned him. Not that he ever
until with the greatest suddenness he recognized me during his attacks, when I
ceased. The fire of madness died from hung breathlessly upon his chaotic but
his eyes, and wonder he looked at
in dull cosmic w'ord-pictures; but he knew me in
his questioners and asked why he was his quiet hours, when he would sit by his
bound. R. Barnard unbuckled the leather barred window weaving baskets of straw
harness and did not restore it till night, and willow, and perhaps pining for the
when he succeeded in persuading Slater mountain freedom he could never again
to don it own volition, for his own
of his enjoy. His family never called to see him;
good. The man had now admitted that probably it had found another temporary
he sometimes talked queerly, though he head, after the manner of decadent moun-
knew not why. tain folk.
Within a week two more attacks ap- By degrees I commenced to feel an
peared, but from them the doctors learned overwhelming wonder at the mad and
little. On the source of Slater’s visions they fantastic conceptions of Joe Slater. The
speculated at length, for since he could man himself was pitiably inferior in men-
neither read nor w rite, and had apparent- tality and language alike; but his glow ing,
ly never heard a legend or fairy-tale, his titanic visions, though described in a bar-
gorgeous imagery was quite inexplicable. barous disjointed jargon, were assuredly
That it could not come from any known things which only a superior or even ex-
myth or romance was made especially ceptional brain could conceive. How, I

clear by the fact that the unfortunate often asked myself, could the stolid im-
lunatic expressed himself only in his own agination of a Catskill degenerate conjure
simple manner. He raved of things he up sights whose very possession argued
did not understand and could not inter- a lurking spark of genius? How could
pret; things which he claimed to have ex- any backwoods dullard have gained so
perienced, but which he could not have much as an idea of those glittering realms
learned through any normal or connected of supernal radiance and space about
narration. The alienists soon agreed that which Slater ranted in his furious de-
abnormal dreams were the foundation of lirium? More and more I inclined to the
the trouble; dreams whose vividness could belief that in the pitiful personality who
for a time completely dominate the wak- cringed before me lay the disordered
 BEYOND THE WALL OF SLEEP 335

nucleus of something beyond my com- to discover and read them? I did not tell

prehension; something infinitely beyond the older physicians of these things, for
the comprehension of my more experi- middle age is skeptical, cynical, and dis-

enced but less imaginative medical and inclined to accept new ideas. Besides, the
scientific colleagues. head of the institution had but lately

And yet I could extract nothing definite warned me in his paternal way that I was
from the man. The sum of all my in- overworking; that my mind needed a rest.
vestigation was, that in a kind of semi- It had long been my belief that human
corporeal dream-life Slater wandered or thought consists basically of atomic or
floated through resplendent and pro- molecular motion, convertible into ether
digious valleys, meadows, gardens, cities, waves of radiant energy like heat, light
and palaces of light, in a region unbound- and electricity. This belief had early led
ed and unknown to man; that there he me to contemplate the possibility of telep-
was no peasant or degenerate, but a crea- athy or mental communication by means
ture of importance and vivid life, moving of suitable apparatus, and I had in my
proudly and dominantly, and checked college days prepared a set of transmitting
only by a certain deadly enemy, who and receiving instruments somewhat simi-
seemed to be a being of visible yet lar to thecumbrous devices employed in
ethereal structure, and who did not ap- wireless telegraphy at that crude, pre-
pear to be of human shape, since Slater radio period. These I had tested with a
never referred to it as a man, or as aught fellow-student, but achieving no result,
save a thing. This thing had done Slater had soon packed them away with other
some hideous but unnamed wrong, which scientific odds and ends for possible fu-

the maniac (if maniac he were) yearned ture use.

to avenge. Now, in my intense desire to probe in-
From the manner in which Slater al- to the dream-life of Joe Slater, I sought
luded to their dealings, I judged that he these instruments again, and spent sev-
and the luminous thing had met on equal eral days them for action.
in repairing
terms; that in his dream existence the When more I
they were complete once
man was himself a luminous thing of the missed no opportunity for their trial. At

same race as his enemy. This impression each outburst of Slater’s violence, I would
was sustained by his frequent references fit the transmitter to his forehead and the

to flying through space and burning all receiver to my own, constantly making
that impeded his progress. Yet these con- delicate adjustments for various hypo-
ceptions were formulated in rusticwords thetical wave-lengths of intellectual en-
wholly inadequate to convey them, a cir- ergy. I had but little notion of how the
cumstance which drove me to the con- thought-impressions would, if successfully

clusion that if a true dream world indeed conveyed, arouse an intelligent response
existed, oral language was not its medium in my brain, but I felt certain that I could
for the transmission of thought. Could detect and interpret them. Accordingly I
it be that the dream soul inhabiting this continued my experiments, though in-
inferior body was desperately struggling forming no one of their nature.
to speak things which the simple and
halting tongue of dullness could not ut- T was on the twenty-first of February,
ter? Could it be that was face to face
I I 1901, that the thing occurred. As I
with intellectual emanations which would look bade across the years I realize how
explain the mystery if I could but learn unreal it seems, and sometimes half won-
33 6 WEIRD TALES
der if old Doctor Fenton was not right vaulted dome of indescribable splendor.
when he charged it all to my excited im- Blending with this display of palatial
agination. I recall that he listened with magnificence, or rather, supplanting it at
great kindness and patience when I told times in kaleidoscopic rotation, were
him, but afterward gave me a nerve- glimpses of wide plains and graceful val-
powder and arranged for the half-year's leys, high mountains and inviting grot-
vacation on which I departed the next toes, covered with every lovely attribute
week. of scenery which my delighted eyes could
conceive of, yet formed wholly of some
That fateful night I was wildly agitated
and perturbed, for despite the excellent glowing, ethereal plastic entity, which in

care he had received, Joe Slater was un-

consistency partook as much of spirit as

mistakably dying. Perhaps it was his

of matter. As I gazed, I perceived that

mountain freedom that he missed, or per- my own brain held the key to these en-

haps the turmoil in his brain had grown chanting metamorphoses; for each vista

too acute for his rather sluggish physique; which appeared to me was the one my
but at all events the flame of vitality changing mind most wished to behold.
flickered low in the decadent body. He Amidst this elysian realm I dwelt not as
was drowsy near the end, and as darkness a stranger, for each sight and sound was
familiar to me; just as it had been for
fell he dropped off into a troubled sleep.
uncounted eons of eternity before, and
I did not strap on the strait jacket as was
would be for like eternities to come.
customary when he slept, since I saw that
Then the resplendent aura of my
he was too feeble to be dangerous, even
brother of light drew near and held col-
if he woke in mental disorder once more
loquy with me, soul to soul, with silent
before passing away. But I did place
and perfect interchange of thought. The
upon his head and mine the two ends of hour was one of approaching triumph,
my cosmic "radio,” hoping against hope
for was not my fellow-being escaping at
for a first and last message from the
last from a degrading periodic bondage;
dream world in the brief time remaining. escaping for ever, and preparing to follow
In the cell with us was one nurse, a
the accursed oppressor even unto the ut-
mediocre fellow who did not understand
termost fields of ether, that upon it might
the purpose of the apparatus, or think to
be wrought a flaming cosmic vengeance
inquire into my course. As the hours
which would shake the spheres? We
wore on I saw his head droop awkwardly
floated thus for a little time, when I per-
in sleep, but I did not disturb him. I
ceived a slight blurring and fading of the
myself, lulled by the rhythmical breathing
objects around us, as though some force
of the healthy and the dying man, must
have nodded a little later.
were recalling me to earth where I least —
wished to go. The form near me seemed
The sound of weird lyric melody was to feel a change also, for it gradually
what aroused me. Chords, vibrations, and brought its discourse toward a conclu-
harmonic ecstasies echoed passionately on
i
sion, and itself prepared to quit the
every hand, while on my ravished sight scene, fading from my sight at a rate
burst the stupendous spectacle of ultimate somewhat less rapid than that of the other
beauty. Walls, columns, and architraves objects. A few more thoughts were ex-
of living fire blazed cffulgently around changed, and I knew luminous
that the
the spot where I seemed to float in air, one and I were being recalled to bondage,
extending upward to an infinitely high though for my brother of light it would
W. T.—
 BEYOND THE WALL OF SLEEP 337

be the last time. The sorry planet shell tual language was employed, my habitual
being well-nigh spent, in less than an association of conceptionand expression
hour my fellow would be free to pursue was so great that I seemed to be receiv-
the oppressor along the Milky Way and ing the message in ordinary English.
past the hither stars to the very confines "'joe Slater is dead," came the soul-
of infinity.
petrifying voice of an agency from be-
yond the wall of sleep. My opened eyes

A well-defined shock

of light from
final
my
separates
impression of the fading scene
sudden and somewhat
my sought the couch of pain
ror, but the blue eyes w-ere
gazing, and the countenance was
in curious hor-
still calmly
still in-
shamefaced awakening and straightening telligently animated. "He is better dead,
up in my chair as I saw the dying figure for he was unfit to bear the active intellect
on the couch move hesitantly. Joe Slater of cosmic entity. His gross body could
was indeed awaking, though probably for not undergo the needed adjustments be-
the last time. As I looked more closely,
tween ethereal life and planet life. He
I saw that shone
in the sallow cheeks w as too much an animal, too little a man;
r

spots of color which had never before yet it is through his deficiency that you
been present. The lips, too, seemed un- have come to discover me, for the cosmic
usual, being tightly compressed, as if by
and planet souls rightly should never
the force of a stronger character than had meet. He has been in my torment and
been Slater’s. The whole face finally be- diurnal prison for forty-two of your ter-
gan to grow tense, and the head turned restrial years.
restlessly with closed eyes.
I did not rouse the sleeping nurse, but
"I am an entity like that which you
yourself become in the freedom of dream-
readjusted the slightly disarranged head-
bands of my telepathic “radio,” intent to
less sleep. I am your brother of light,

and have floated with you in the effulgent

catch any parting message the dreamer
might have to deliver. All at once the
valleys. It is not permitted me to tell
your waking earth-self of your real self,
head turned sharply in my direction and
the eyes fell open, causing me to stare in
but we are all roamers of vast spaces and

blank amazement at what I beheld. The travelers in many ages. Next year I may
be dwelling in the Egypt which you call
man who had been Joe Slater, the Catskill
ancient, or in the cruel empire of Tsan
decadent, was now gazing at me with a
pair of luminous,expanding eyes whose Chan which is to come three thousand

blue seemed subtly to have deepened.

years hence. You and I have drifted to
the worlds that reel about the red Arc
Neither mania nor degeneracy w as visible r

in that gaze, and I felt beyond a doubt

turns, and dwelt in the bodies of the in-
sect-philosophers that crawl proudly over
that I was viewing a face behind which
lay an active mind of high order.
the fourth moon of Jupiter. How little
At this juncture my brain became aware
does the earth self know life and its ex-
of a steady external influence operating
tent! How little, indeed, ought it to know

upon it. I closed my eyes to concentrate

for its own tranquillity!

my thoughts more profoundly, and was "Of the oppressor I cannot speak. You
rewarded by the positive knowledge that on earth have unwittingly felt its distant
my long-sought mental message had come —
presence you who without knowing idly
at last. Each transmitted idea formed gave the blinking beacon the name of
rapidly in my mind, and though no ac- Algol, the Demon-Star. It is to meet and
W. T.—
338 WEIRD TALES
conquer the oppressor that
striven for eons, held back by bodily en-
cumbrances.
I

Tonight I go as a Nemesis
have vainly
T
effect?
he climax?

I
What
ence can boast of such
have merely
plain tale of

set
sci-

a rhetorical
down certain

bearing just and blazingly cataclysmic things appealing to me as facts, allowing

vengeance. Watch me in the sky close you to construe them as you will. As I

by the Demon-Star. have already admitted, my superior, old

Doctor Fenton, denies the reality of every-
"I cannot speak longer, for the body
of Joe Slater grows cold and rigid, and
thing I have related. He vows that I was
broken down with nervous strain, and
the coarse brains are ceasing to vibrate as
badly in need of the long vacation on full
I wish. You have been ray only friend
pay which he so generously gave me. He
on this planet —the only soul to sense and
assures me on his professional honor that
seek for me within the repellent form
Joe Slater was but a low-grade paranoiac,
which lies on this couch. We shall meet
whose fantastic notions must have come
again
— perhaps in the shining mists of
from the crude hereditary folk-tales which
Orion’s Sword, perhaps on a bleak pla- circulated in even the most decadent of
teau in prehistoric Asia, perhaps in un-
remembered dreams tonight, perhaps in
communities. All this he tells me yet I
cannot forget what I saw in the sky on
—
some other form an eon hence, when the the night after Slater died. Lest you think
solar system shall have been swept away." me a biased witness, another pen must

At this point the thought- waves ab- add this final testimony, which may per-
ruptly ceased, and the pale eyes of the haps supply the climax you expect. I will

dreamer — or can I say dead man? —com- quote the following account of the star
Nova Persei verbatim from the pages of
menced to glaze fishily. In a half-stupor
that eminent astronomical authority, Pro-
I crossed over to the couch and felt of his
fessor Garrett P. Serviss:
wrist, but found it cold, stiff, and pulse-
"On February 22, 1901, a marvelous
less. The sallow cheeks paled again, and
new star was discovered by Doctor Ander-
the thick lips fell open, disclosing the
son of Edinburgh, not very jar from
repulsively rotten fangs of the degenerate No
Algol. had been visible at that
star
Joe Slater. I shivered, pulled a blanket point before. Within twenty-four hours
over the hideous face, and awakened the the stranger had become so bright that it
nurse. Then I left the cell and went si- outshone Capella. In a week or two it
lently to my room. I had an instant and had visibly faded, and in the course of a
unaccountable craving for a sleep whose few months it was hardly discernible with
dreams I should not remember. the naked eye."
 A
% airy
By
Ones Shall Dance
GANS T. FIELD

novel of a hideous, stark horror that struck during a spirit seance —a tale of

terror and sudden death, and the frightful thing that

laired in the Devil’s Croft

The Story Thus Far: where, says Zoberg, lives a medium who
will prove the case for spiritism.

T ALBOT WILLS,
former stage magician.
of psychic
the narrator,

phenomena, he goes
with Doctor Zoberg to an isolated hamlet,
is

Skeptical
a
Gird.
in
Gird, the
The medium
At
the darkened
is

medium
an attractive girl, Susan
a seance, a bestial
room and
s
shape appears

father.
kills

The town
339
John

This story began In WEIRD TALES for January

340 WEIRD TALES
constable accuses Wills, as the only per- calm zest for the good food gave us oth-
son able to escape the manacles which ers steadiness again, so that we sat down
confined everyone in the room. A mob and even ate a little as he described his
gathers to lynch the supposed murderer, day in town.
and he manages to escape from a cell, He had found opportunity to talk to
fleeing for shelter to a grove on the edge Susan in private, confiding in her about

of town. This is called the Devil’s Croft, me and finally sending her to me; this, as

and custom and local law forbid anyone he said, so that we would convince each
to enter it. other of our respective innocences. It

Once inside, though a blizzard

he finds, was purely an inspiration, for he had
rages without, the grove is as warm and had no idea, of course, that such convic-
green as the tropics. In its depths he en- tion would turn out so final. Thereafter
counters and fights with the same beast- he made shift to enter the Gird house
shape that killed John Gird. By a lucky and talk to Doctor Zoberg.
blow he stuns it, and is horrified to see it That worthy he found sitting somewhat
turning gradually human. He flees from limply in the parlor, with John Gird’s
the grove and meets Judge Keith Pursui- coffin in the next room. Zoberg, the
vant, a scholarly recluse, who shelters him judge reported, was mystified about the
and shows him, by logic and by quotation murder and anxious to bring to justice
of distinguished authorities, that a were- the townsfolk — were more than
there
wolf can be explained by the spiritist the- one, it seemed — who had beaten him.
ory of ectoplasmic materialization. Most of all, however, he was concerned
The following day Judge Pursuivant about the charges against me.
goes to town to observe conditions, and
"His greatest anxiety is to prove you
sends Susan Gird to his home to talk to
innocent," Judge Pursuivant informed
Wills. The two beginning to be
are
me. "He intends to bring the best lawyer
drawn though in Wills’
to each other,
possible for your defense, is willing even
mind lingers the possibility that Susan to assist in paying the fee. He also swears
Gird may have a complex personality that
that character witnesses can be brought
sometimes materializes the beast-thing. you are the most peaceable
to testify that
Returning from town, the judge tells
and law-abiding man in the country.”
them that the mysterious monster, appar-
"That’s mighty decent of him,” I said.
ently still in the forbidden grove, has
"According to your reasoning of this
claimed another victim.
morning, his attitude proves him inno-
The story continues:
cent, too.”

"What reasoning was that?” asked

11. "To Meet that Monster Face to Susan, and I was glad that the judge con-
Face!" tinued without answering her.
"I was glad that I had sent Miss Susan
think that both Susan and I fairly on. If your car had remained there, Mr.
I reeled before this news, like actors Wills, Doctor Zoberg might have driven
registering surprize in an old-fashioned off in it to rally your defenses.”
melodrama. As for Judge Pursuivant, he "Not if I know him,” I objected.
turned to the table, cut a generous wedge "The whole business, what of the mys-
of the meat pie and set it, all savory and tery and occult significances, will hold
steaming, on a plate for himself. His him right on the spot. He's relentlessly
 THE HAIRY ONES SHALL DANCE 341

curious and, despite his temporary col- enemy.” Both Susan £nd I started to

lapse, he's no coward.” speak, but he held up his hand, smiling.

"I agree with that,” chimed in Susan. "I know without being reminded that the

As for my pursuers of the previous odds are still against us, because the one
night, the judge went on, they had been enemy is fierce and blood-drinking, and
roaming £he snow-covered streets in twos can change shape and character. Maybe
and threes, heavily armed for the most it can project itself to a distance —which
part and still determined to punish me makes it all the harder, both for us to face
for killing their neighbor. The council it and for us to get help.”
was too frightened or too perplexed to "I know what you mean by that last,”
deal with the situation, and the constable I nodded gloomily. "If there were ten
was still in bed, with his brother assum- thousand friendly constables in the neigh-

ing authority, when Judge Pursuivant borhood, instead of a single hostile one,
made his inquiries. The judge went to they wouldn’t believe us.”
see the wounded man, who very pluckily "Right,” Judge Pursuivant
agreed
determined to rise and take up his duties "We're like the group of perplexed mor-
again. tals in Dracula, who had only their own

‘Til arrest the man who plugged me,” wits and weapons against a monster no
O’Bryant had promised grimly, "and that more forbidding than ours.”
kid brother of mine can quit playing
policeman.” T IS hard to show clearly how his con-
The judge applauded these sentiments, I stant offering of parallels and rational-
and brought him hot food and whisky, izations comforted us. Only the unknown
which further braced his spirits. In the and unknowable can terrify completely.
evening came the invasion by the younger We three were even cheerful over a bot-
O’Bryant of the Devil’s Croft, and his tle of wine that William fetched and

resultant death at the claws and teeth of poured out in three glasses. Judge Pur-
what prowled there. suivant gave us a toast
—"May wolves
"His throat was so tom open and filled go hungry!” —and Susan and drank I it

with blood that he could not speak,” the gladly.

judge concluded, "but he pointed back "Don't forget what’s on our side,”
into the timber, and then tried to trace said tlie judge, putting down his glass.
something in the snow with his finger. It "I mean the stedfast and courageous
looked like a wolfs head, with pointed heart, of which I preached to Wills last
nose and ears. He died before he night, and which we can summon from
finished.” within us any time and anywhere. The
"You saw him come out?” I asked. werewolf, dauntlessly faced, loses its

"No. I’d gone back to town, but later dread; and I diink we are the ones to face
I saw the body, and the sketch in the it. Now we’re ready for action.”
snow.” I said that I would welcome any kind
He finished his dinner and pushed of action whatsoever, and Susan touched
back his diair. "Now,” he said heartily, my arm as if in endorsement of the re-

"it’s up to us.” mark. Judge Pursuivant’s spectacles glit-

"Up to us to do what?" I inquired. tered in approval.

"To meet that monster face to face,” "You two will go into the Devil’s
he replied. "There are three of us and, Croft,” he announced. "I’m going back
so far as I can ascertain, but one of the to town once more.”
342 WEIRD TALES
"Into the Devil’s Croft!" we almost his overcoat pocket and lighted our lan-
shouted, both in the same shocked breath. terns all around. I remember that we
"Of course. Didn’t we just get through struck a fresh light for Susan’s lantern;
with the agreement around that theall we agreed that, silly as the three-on-a
lycanthrope can and must be met face to match superstition might be, this was no
face? Offense is the best defense, as per- time or place to tempt Providence.
haps one hundred thousand athletic train- "Come on,” said Judge Pursuivant
ers have reiterated." then, and led the way into the darkest
"I’ve already faced the creature once," part of the immense thicket.
I reminded him. "As for appearing
dauntless, I doubt my own powers of 12.
rr
We Are Here at His Mercy.”
deceit."

"A
"You
fire
shall have a weapon,” he
gives light,
such things must have darkness
and we know
—such
said.
that
as
W e followed Judge
Susan and I, without
thought beyond an understandable dislike
Pursuivant,
much of a

it finds in the midst of that swampy for being left alone on the brink of the
wood. So fill your pockets with matches, timber. It was a slight struggle to get
both of you." through the close-set cedar hedge, espe-
"How about a gun?” I asked, but he cially for Susan, but beyond it we soon
shook his head. caught up with the judge. He strode
"We don’t want the werewolf killed. heavily and confidently among the trees,
That would leave the whole business in his lantern held high to shed light upon
mystery, and yourself probably charged broad, polished leaves and thick, wet
with another murder. He’d return to his stems. The moist warmth of the grove's
human shape, you know, the moment he interior made itself felt again, and the
was hurt even slightly.” judge explained again and at greater
Susan spoke, very calmly: "I’m ready length the hot springs that made pos-
to go into the Croft, Judge Pursuivant.” sible this surprizing condition. All the
He clapped his hands loudly, as if ap- while he kept going. He seemed to know
plauding in a theater. "Bravo, my dear, his way in that forbidden fastness in- —
bravo! I see Mr. Wills sets his jaw. deed, he must have explored it many
That means he's ready to go with you. times to go straight to his destination.
Very well, let us be off.” That destination was a clearing, in
He called to William, who at his or- some degree like the one where I had
ders brought three lanterns — sturdy old- met and fought with my hairy pursuer
fashioned affairs, protected by strong wire on the night before. This place had,
nettings —and filled them with oil. We however, a great tree in its center, with
each took one and set out. It had turned branches that shot out in all directions to
clear and frosty once more, and the moon hide away the sky completely. By strain-

shone too brightly for my comfort, at ing the ears one could catch a faint mur-
least. However, as we approached the mur of water —my scalding stream, no
grove, we saw no sentinels; they could doubt. Around us were the thick-set

hardly be blamed for deserting, after the trunks of the forest, filled in between
fate of the younger O’ Bryant. with brush and vines, and underfoot grew
We gained the shadow' of the outer velvety moss.
cedars unchallenged. Here Judge Pursui- "This will be our headquarters posi-
vant called a halt, produced a match from tion,” said the judge. "Wills, help me
 THE HAIRY ONES SHALL DANCE 345

gather wood for a fire. Break dead "Macaulay,” I said at once. Then, to
branches from the standing trees —never get her mind off of morbid things, "I
mind picking up wood from the ground, had to recite The Lays of Ancient Rome
it will be too damp.” in school, when I was a boy. 'I wish you
Together we collected a considerable hadn’t mentioned it.”

heap and, crumpling a bit of paper in "You mean, because it's an evil omen?”
its midst, he kindled it. She shook her head, and contrived a smile
"Now, then,” he went on, "I’m head- that lighted up her pale face. "It’s not
ing for town. You two will stay here that, if you analyze it. ’Shall himself be
and keep each other company.” slain’ — it sounds as if the enemy’s fate
He took our lanterns, blew them out is sealed.”
and ran his left arm through the loops of I nodded, then spun around sharply,
their handles. for I fancied I heard a dull crashing at
"I’m sure that nothing will attack you the edge of the clearing. Then I went
in the light of the fire. You’re bound to here and there, gathering wood enough
attract whatever skulks hereabouts, how- to keep our fire burning for some time.
ever. When I come back, we ought to be One branch, a thick, straight one, I chose
prepared to go into the final act of our from the heap and leaned against the big
little melodrama.” tree, within easy reach of my hand.
He touched my hand, bowed to Susan, "That’s for a dub,” I told Susan, and
and went tramping away into the timber. she half shrunk, half stiffened at the im-
The thick leafage blotted his lantern- plication.
light from our view before his back had We fell to talking about Judge Pursui-
been turned twenty seconds. vant, the charm and the enigma that in-
Susan and I gazed at each other, and vested him. Both of us felt gratitude that
smiled rather uneasily. he had immediately clarified our own in-

"It's warm,” she breathed, and took nocence in the grisly slayings, but to both
off her cloak. Dropping it upon one of came a sudden inspiration, distasteful
the humped roots of the great central and disquieting. I spoke first:

tree, she sat down on it with her back to "Susan! Why. did the judge bring us
the trunk. "What kind of a tree is this?” here?”
I gazed up at the gnarled stem, or as "He said, to help face and defeat the
much of it as I could see in the firelight. monster. But —but ”

Finally I shook my head. "Who is that monster?” I demanded.

"I don’t know —I’m no expert,” I ad-
"What human
bestial appearance, to
being puts on
rend and kill?”
a semi-

mitted. "At least very

it's big, and un-
doubtedly very old —the sort of tree that
"Y you
As
— don’t mean
had been in both our minds.
I say, it
the judge?”

used to mark a place of sacrifice.”

At the word "sacrifice,” Susan lifted

We were silent, and felt shame and em-
barrassment.
her shoulders as if in distaste. "You’re
"Look here,” I went on earnestly after
right, Talbot. It would be something
a moment; "perhaps we’re being ungrate-
grim and Druid-like.” She began to re-
ful, but we mustn’t be unprepared.
cite, half to herself:
Think, Susan; nobody knows where Judge
That tree in whose dark shadow Pursuivant was at the time of your fa-
The ghastly priest doth reign, ther’s death, at the time I saw the thing
The priest who slew the slayer
And shall himself be slain.
in these woods.” I broke off, remember-
344 WEIRD TALES
ing how I had met the judge for the first encouragement; then we both started and
time, so shortly after my desperate strug- fell silent. There had risen, somewhere
gle with the point-eared demon. "No- among the thickets, a long low whining.
body knows where he was when the con-
stable's brother was attacked and mortally PUT out a foot, stealthily, as though
wounded." I fearful of being caught in motion. A
She gazed about fearfully. "Nobody," quick kick flung more wood on the fire.

she added breathlessly, "knows where he I blinked in the light and felt the heat.
isnow." Standing there, as a primitive man might
I was remembering a conversation with have stood in his flame-guarded camp to
him; he had spoken of books, mentioning face the horrors of the ancient world, I
a rare, a supposedly non-existent volume. tried to judge by ear the direction of that
What was it? . . . the Wicked Bible. whine.
And what was it I had once heard about It died, and I heard, perhaps in my
that work? imagination, a stealthy padding. Then
It came back now, out of the
to me the whining began again, from a new
sub-conscious brain -chamber -where, ap- quarter and nearer.
parently, one stores everything he hears I made myself step toward it. My
or reads in idleness, and from which such shadow, leaping grotesquely among the
items creep on occasion. It had been in tree trunks, almost frightened me out of
Lewis Spence’s Encyclopedia of Occult- my wits. The whine had changed into a
ism, now on the shelf in my New York crooning wail, such as that with which
apartment. dogs salute the full moon. Itseemed to
The Wicked Bible, scripture for witdies plead, to promise; and it was coming
and wizards, from which magic-mongers closer to the clearing.
of the Dark Ages drew their inspiration Once before I had challenged and
and their knowledge! And Judge Pur- taunted the thing with scornful words.
suivant had admitted to having one! Now I could not make my lips form a

What had he learned from it? How single syllable. Probably it was just as
had he been so glib about the science well, for I thought and watched the more.

yes, and the psychology of being a — Something blade and cautious was mov-
werewolf? ing among the branches, just beyond the
"If what we suspect is true," I said to shrubbery that screened it from our fire-
Susan, "we are here at his mercy. No- light. I knew, without need of a clear

body is going to come in here, not if view, what that black something was. I
horses dragged them. At his leisure he lifted my club to the ready.
will fall upon us and tear us to pieces.” The sound it made had become in some
But, even as I spoke, I despised myself fashion articulate, though not human in
for my weak fears in her presence. I any quality. There were no words to it,

picked up my club and was comforted by but it spoke to the heart. The note of
its weight and thickness. plea and promise had become one of com-
"I met thaf devil once,” I said, study- mand — and not directed to me.
ing cheer and confidence into my voice Ifound my own voice.
this time. "I don’t think it relished the "Get out of here, you devil!" I roared
meeting any too much. Next time won’t at it, and threw my club. Even as I let
be any more profitable for it.” go of it, I wished I had not. The bushes
She smiled at me, as if in comradely foiled my aim, and the missile crashed
 THE HAIRY ONES SHALL DANCE 345

among them and dropped to the mossy quick stride and planted myself before
ground. The creature fell craftily silent. her.
Then I felt sudden panic and regret at "Susan, you mustn’t!”
being left weaponless, and I retreated She shrank back, her face turning slow-
toward the fire. ly up to mine. Her back was to the fire,
"Susan,” I said huskily, "give me an- yet light rose in her eyes, or perhaps be-
other stick. Hurry!” hind them; a green light, such as reflects

She did not move or stir, and I rum- from the moon. Her
in still forest pools
maged frantically among the heaped dry hands though to repel
lifted suddenly, as

branches for myself. Catching up the me. They were half closed and the
first piece of wood that would serve, I crooked fingers drawn stiff, like talons.
turned to her with worried curiosity. "Susan!” I coaxed her, yet again, and
She was still seated upon the cloak- she made no answer but tried to slip side-
draped root, but she had drawn herself wise around me. I moved and headed
tense, like a cat before a mouse-hole. her off, and she growled actually —
Her head was thrust forward, so far that growled, like a savage dog.
her neck extended almost horizontally. With my free hand I clutched her
Her dilated eyes were turned in the di- shoulder. Under my fingers her flesh
rection from which the whining and was as taut as wire fabric. Then, sud-
crooning had come. They had a strange denly, it relaxed into human tissue again,

clarity in them, as if they could pierce and she was standing straight. Her eyes
the twigs and leaves and meet there an had lost their weird light, they showed
answering, understanding gaze. only dark and frightened.
"Susan!” I cried. "Talbot,” she stammered. "Wh — what
Still she gave no sign that she heard have I been doing?”
me, if hear me she did. She leaned far- "Nothing, my dear,” I comforted her.
ther forward, as if ready to spring up and "It was nothing that we weren't able to
run. Once more the unbeastly wail rose fight back.”
from the place where our watcher was
From the woods behind me came a
lurking.
throttling yelp, as of some hungry thing
Susan’s lips trembled. From them robbed of prey within its very grasp.
came slowly and softly, then louder, a Susan swayed, seemed about to drop, and
long-drawn answering howl. I caught her quickly in my arms. Hold-
"Aoooooooooooooo! Aoooooooooooo- ing her thus, I turned my head and
0000000!'* laughed over my shoulder.
The stick almost fell from my hands. "Another score against you!” I jeered
She rose, slowly but confidently. Her at my enemy. "You didn’t get her, not
shoulders hunched high, her arms hung with all your filthy enchantments!”
forward though they wanted to reach
as Susan was beginning to cry , and I half
to the ground. Again she howled: led, half carried her back to the fireside.
"Aoooooooocooooooooooo!” At my gesture she sat on her cloak again,
I saw that she was going to move as tractable as a child who repents of
across the clearing, toward the trees rebellion and tries to be obedient.
through the trees. My heart seemed to There were no more sounds from the
twist into a knot inside me, but I could timber. I could feel an emptiness there,
not let her do such a thing. I made a as if the monster had slunk away, baffled.
346 WEIRD TALES
IS. "Lights Our Best Weapon.” did, and I let her. Whether I took her
into my arms, or whether she came into

N either of us
while after that.

Ere, to be doing something, and

said
I
anything for a
stoked up the
it made
them of her own
ber exactly; but
do not remem-
accord, I
was against my shoul-
it

der that she finished her weeping, and

us so uncomfortably warm that we had to when she had finished she did feel better.

crowd away from it. Sitting close against "That somehow washed the fog and
the tree-trunk, I began to imagine some- the fear out of me,” she confessed, al-
thing creeping up the black lane of shad- most brightly.
ow it cast behind us to the edge of the It must have been a full hour later that

clearing; and yet again I thought I heard rustlings rose yet again in the timber. So
noises, Club in hand, I went to investi- frequently had my imagination tricked
gate, and I was not disappointed in the me that I did not so much as glance up.

least when I found nothing. Then Susan gave a little startled cry, and
Finally Susan spoke. "This,” she said, I sprang to my feet. Beyond the fire a

"is a new light on the thing." tall, gray shape had become visible, with
"It’s nothing to be upset about," I a pale glare of light around it.

tried to comfort her. "Don't be alarmed,” called a voice I

"Not be upset!" She sat straight up, —

knew. "It is I Otto Zoberg.”
and in the light of the fire I could see a "Doctor!” I cried, and hurried to meet

single pained line between her brows, him. For the first time in my life, I felt
deep and sharp as a chisel-gash. "Not that he was a friend. Our differences of
when I almost turned into a beast!” opinion, once making companionship
"How much of that do you remem- strained, had so dwindled to nothing in
ber?” I asked her. comparison to tire danger I faced, and his
"I was foggy in my mind, Talbot, al- avowed trust in me as innocent of mur-
most as at the seance, but I remember be- der.
—
ing drawn drawn to what was waiting "How are you?” I said, wringing his
out there.” Her eyes sought the thickets hand. "They say you were hurt by the
on the far side of our blaze. "And it mob."
didn’t seem horrible, but pleasant and "Ach, it w'as nothing serious,” he re-

—
welcome and well, as if it were my kind. assured me. "Only this.” He touched
You," and she glanced quickly at me, with his forefinger an eye, and I could
then ashamedly away, "you were sudden- see that was bruised and swollen half
it

ly strange and to be avoided.” shut. "A citizen with too ready a fist and
"Is that all?” too slow a mind has that to answer for.”
"It spoke to me," she went on in "I’m partly responsible,” I said. "You
husky horror, "and I spoke to it.” were trying to help me, I understand,
I forbore to remind her that the only when it happened.”
sound she had uttered was a wordless
howl. Perhaps she did not know that
I hoped not.
another awkward time.
We said no more for M
ing.
ore noise behind him, and two
more shapes pushed into the clear-
I recognized Judge Pursuivant, nod-

Finally she mumbled, "I’m not the ding to me with his eyes bright under his
kind of woman who cries easily; but I’d wide hat-brim. The other man, angular,
like to now.” falcon-faced, one arm in a sling, I had

"Go ahead,” I said at once, and she also seen before. It was Constable O’Bry-
 THE HAIRY ONES SHALL DANCE 347

ant. I spoke to him, but he gazed past grunting occasionally, the judge clicking
me, apparently not hearing. his tongue, and Doctor Zoberg in abso-

Doctor Zoberg saw my perplexed lute silence.

frown, and he turned back toward the It was Zoberg who made the first com-
constable. Snapping long fingers in front ment after I had finished. "This ex-
of the great hooked nose, he whistled plains many things,” he said.
shrilly. O’Bryant started, grunted, then "It don't explain a doggone thing,”
glared around as though he had been grumbled O’Bryant.
suddenly and rudely awakened. Zoberg smiled at him, then turned to
"What’s up?" he growled menacingly, Judge Pursuivant. "Your ectoplasmic
and his sound hand moved swiftly to a theory of lycanthropy —
such as you have
holster at his side. Then his eyes found explained it to me— most is interesting
me, and with an oath he drew his re- and, I think, valid. May I advance it a
volver. trifle?”

"Easy, Constable! Easy does it," "In what way?” asked the judge.
soothed Judge Pursuivant, his own great "Ectoplasm, as you see it, forms the
hand clutching O’Bryant’s wrist. "You’ve werewolf by building upon the medium's
forgotten that I showed how Mr. Wills body. But is not ectoplasm more apt, ac-

must be innocent.” cording to the observations of many peo-

"I’ve forgotten what we’re here for at ple, to draw’ completely av/ay and form
all,” snapped O’Bryant, gazing around a separate and complete thing of itself?

the clearing. "Hey, have I been drunk or The thing may be beastly, as you suggest.
”
something? I said that I’d never Algernon Blackwood, the English writer
"I’ll explain,” offered Zoberg. "The of psychic stories, almost hits upon it in
judge met me in town, and we came to- one of his ’John Silence' tales. He de-
gether to see you. Remember? You said scribed an astral personality taking form
you would like to avenge your brother’s and threatening harm while its physical
death, and came with us. Then, when body slept.”
you balked at the very edge of this Devil's ”1 know' the story you mean," agreed
Croft, I took the liberty of hypnotizing Judge Pursuivant. The Camp of the
ft

you.” Dog, I think it’s called.”

"Huh? How did you do that?” "Very well, then. Perhaps, while Miss
growled the officer. Susan’s body lay in a trance, securely
"With a look, a w ord,
r
a motion of the handcuffed between Wills and my-
”
hand,” said Zoberg, his eyes twinkling. self

"Then you ceased all objections and came "Oh!” wailed Susan. "Then it was I,

in with us.” after all.”

Pursuivant clapped O’Bryant on the "It couldn’t have been you,” I told
unwounded shoulder. "Sit dow n,” he
r
in- her at once.

vited, motioning tow-ard the roots of the "But it was! And, w'hile I was at the

tree. judge’s home with you, part of me met

The five of us gathered around the fire, the constable’s brother in this wood.” She
like picknickers instead of allies against a stared wildly around her.
supernormal monster. There, at Susan's "It might as well have been part of
insistence, I told of what had happened me,” I argued, and O’Bryant glared at
since Judge Pursuivant had left us. All me as if in sudden support of that likeli-

listened with rapt attention, the constable hood. But Susan shook her head.
348 WEIRD TALES
"No, for which of us responded to the thing else was prowling around our fire,

call of that thing out there?” just out of sight.”

For the hundredth time she gazed fear- " Ach, just out of sight!” echoed Zo-
fully through the fire at the bushes be- berg. "That means you aren't sure what
hind which the commanding whine had it was.”
risen. "Or even that there was anything,”
"I have within me,” she said dully, "a added Susan, so suddenly and strongly
nature that will break out, look and act that I, at least, jumped.

like a beast-demon, will kill even my "There was something, all right,” I in-
”
beloved father sisted. "I heard it.”

"Please,” interjected Judge Pursuivant "You thought you heard a sound be-
earnestly, "you must not take responsibil- hind the tree,” Susan reminded me. "You
ity upon yourself for what happened. If looked, and there was nothing.”

the ectoplasm engendered by you made Everyone gazed at me, rather like staid

up the form of the killer, the spiritmay adults at a naughty child. I said, ungra-
have come from without.” ciously, that my imagination was no bet-
ter than theirs,and that I was no easier
"How could it?” she asked wretchedly.
to frighten. Judge Pursuivant suggested
"Howcould Marthe Beraud exude
that we make a search of the surrounding
ectoplasm that formed a bearded, mascu-
woods, for possible clues.
line body?” Pursuivant looked across to
"A good idea,” approved Constable
Zoberg. "Doctor, you surely know the
O’Bryant. "The ground’s damp. We
famous 'Bien Boa' seance, and how the
might find some sort of footprints.”
materialized entity spoke Arabic when
"Then you stay here with Miss Susan,”
the medium, a Frenchwoman, knew little

or nothing of that language?”

the judge said to him. "We others will
circle around.”
Zoberg sat with bearded chin on lean The gaunt constable shook his head.
hand. His joined brows bristled the more
"Not much, mister. I’m in on whatever
as he corrugated his forehead in thought.
searching is done. I've got something to
"We are each a thousand personalities,”
settle with whatever killed my kid
he said, sententiously if not comfortingly.
brother.”
"How can we rule them all, or rule even
"But there are only three lanterns,”
one of them?”
pointed out Judge Pursuivant. "We have
to carry them —
light’s our best weapon.”

O ’BRYANT said sourly that all this

talk was too high flown for him to
understand or to enjoy. He dared hope,
Zoberg then spoke up, rather diffident-
ly, to say that he would be glad to stay

with Susan. This was agreed upon, and

however, that the case could never be tied the other three of us prepared for the
up to Miss Susan Gird, whom he had search.
known and liked since her babyhood.
I took the lantern from Zoberg’s hand,
"It can never do that,” Zoberg said nodded to the others, and walked away
definitely. "No court or jury would con- among the trees.
vict her on the evidence we are offering
against her.”
14. "I Was—1 Am— <i Wolf’»

I ventured an opinion:
are attempting to show
"While you
that Susan
werewolf, you are forgetting that some-
is a D
for,
eliberately I had turned my face

toward the section beyond the fire,

as I have said repeatedly, it was there
 THE HAIRY ONES SHALL DANCE 349

that I had heard tine movements and cries Coming again close to the starting-

of the being that had so strongly moved point, I thought of a quick visit to the
and bewitched Susan. My heart whis- clearing and a comforting word or two
pered rather loudly that I must look for with Susan and Zoberg. Surely I was al-

myself at its traces or lack of them, or for most there; but why did not the fire gleam
ever view myself with scorn. through the trees? Were they out of
Almost at once I found tracks, the wood? Perplexed, I quickened my pace.
booted tracks of my three allies. Shaking A gnarled tree grew in my path, its low
my lantern to make it flare higher, I went branches heavily bearded with vines. Be-
deeper among the clumps, my eyes quar- yond this rose only the faintest of glows.
tering the damp earth. After a few mo- I paused to push aside some strands and
ments I found what I had come to look peer.
for. The had almost died, and by its
fire
The marks were round and rather light I but half saw two figures, one tall
vague as to toe-positions, yet not so clear- and one slender, standing together well
cut as to be made by hoofs. Rather they to one side. They faced each other, and
suggested a malformed stump or a palm the taller —a seeming statue of wet-look-
with no fingers, and they were deep ing gray —held its companion by a shoul-
enough to denote considerable weight; der. The other gray hand was stroking
the tracks of my own shoes, next to them, the smaller one’s head, pouring grayness
were rather shallower. I bent for a close thereon.
look, then straightened up, looked every-
I saw only
this much, without stop-
where at once, and held my torch above ping judge or to wonder. Then I
to
my head to shed light all around; for I and sprang into the clearing. At
yelled,
had suddenly felt eyes upon me. my two fell apart and faced
outcry the
I caught just a glimpse as of two points
me. The smallest was Susan, who took a
of light, fading away into some leafage step in my direction and gave a little
and in the direction of the clearing, and smothered whimper, as though she was
toward them I made my way; but there trying to speak through a blanket. I ran
was nothing there, and the only tracks
to her side,and with a rough sweep of
underfoot were of shod human beings,
my sleeve I cleared from her face and
myself or one of the others. I returned
head a mass of slimy, shiny jelly.
to my outward search, following the
“You!” I challenged the other shape.
round tracks.
"What have you been trying to do to
They were plainly of only two feet
her?”
there were no double impressions, like
For only a breathing-space it stood
—
those of a quadruped but I must have
still, as featureless and clumsy as a half-
stalked along them for ten minutes when
formed figure of gray mud. Then dark-
I realized that I had no way of telling
ness sprang out upon it, and hair. Eyes
whether they went forward or backward.
blazed at me, green and fearsome. A
I might be going away from my enemy
sharp muzzle opened to emit a snarl.
instead of toward it. A close examina-
tion did me little good, and I further
"Now I know you,” I hurled at it.

“I’m going to kill you.”

pondered that the creature would lurk
near the clearing, not go so straight And I charged.

away. Thus arguing within myself, I Claws ripped at my head, missed and
doubled back. tore the cloth of my coat. One of my
350 WEIRD TALES
arms shot around a lean, hairy middle commandingly. She went into half a
with powerful muscles straining under and I knew she was hypnotized.
trance,

its skin, and I drove my other fist for "As the fire died down, he began the
where I judged the pit of the stomach to change. Ectoplasm gushed out and over
be. Grappled, we fell and rolled over. him. Before it took form, he began to
The beast smell I remembered was all smear some upon her. And Mr. Wills
about us, and I knew that jaws were shov- here came out of the woods and at him.”
ing once again at my throat. I jammed O’Bryant looked from the judge to
my forearm between them, so far into the Zoberg. Then he fumbled with his un-
hinge of them that they could not close damaged hand in a hip pocket, produced
nor crush. My other hand clutched the handcuffs and stepped forward. The ac-

skin of the throat, a great loose fistful, cused man grinned through his beard, as
drew it taut and began
to twist with all if admitting defeat in some trifling game.
my strength.heard a half-broken yelp
I Then he held out his wrists with an air
of strangled pain, felt a slackening of the of resignation and I, who had manacled
body that smuggled against me, knew them once, wondered again at their cord-
that it was trying to get away. But I man- ed strength. The irons clicked shut upon
aged to roll on top, straddling the tiling. one, then the other.

"You’re not so good on defense,” I "You know everything now,” said Zo-
panted, and brought my other hand to berg, in a soft voice but a steady one. ”1
I had no other idea save to
the throat, for was I — —
am a wolf; a wolf who hoped to
kill.Paws grasped and tore at my wrists. mate with an angel.”
There was shouting at my back, in Susan’s His bright eyes rested upon Susan, who
voice and several others. Hands caught shrank back. Judge Pursuivant took a
me by the shoulders and tried to pull me step toward the prisoner.

up and away. "There is no need for you to insult

"No!” her,” he said.
I cried. "This is it, the were-
wolf!” Zoberg grinned at him, with every long
tooth agleam. "Do you want to hear my
"It’s Doctor Zoberg, you idiot,” growled
confession, or don’t you?”
O'Bryant in my ear. "Come on, let him
"Sure we want to hear it,” grunted
up.’’
O’Bryant. "Leave him alone, judge, and
"Yes,” added Judge Pursuivant, "it’s
let him talk.” He glanced at me. "Got
Doctor Zoberg, as you say; but a moment
any paper, Mr. Wills? Somebody better
ago it was the monster we have been
take this down in writing.”
hunting.”
I produced a wad of note-paper and a
I had been dragged upright by now,
stub pencil. Placing it upon my knee,
and so had Zoberg. He could only choke with the lantern for light, I scribbled, al-
and glare for the time being, his fingers most word for word, the tale that Doctor
to his half-crushed throat. Pursuivant Zoberg told.
had moved within clutching distance of
him, and was eyeing him as a cat eyes a 15. "And That Is the End”
mouse.
"Like Wills, I only pretended to search, “Perhaps was bom what I am,” he
I
then doubled back to watch,” went on A began. "At least, even as a lad I
the judge. "I saw Zoberg and Miss Susan knew that there was a Lust and a power
talking. He spoke quietly, rhythmically, for evil within me. Night called to me,
 THE HAIRY ONES SHALL DANCE 351

where frightens most children. would ”1

it I Judge Pursuivant cleared his throat.
slip out of my father’s house and run for suspect that you’re leaving out part of
miles, under the trees or across fields, with your adventures, Doctor.”
the moon for company. This was in Zoberg actually laughed. "Ja, I thought
Germany, of course, before the war.” to spare you a few shocks. But if you
"During the war ” began Judge will have them, you may. I visited Rus-
Pursuivant. sia —and in 1922 a medical commission
of the Soviet Union investigated several
"During the war, when most men were
score mysterious cases of peasants killed
was in prison.” Again Zoberg
fighting, I
grinned, briefly and without cheer. "I
—and eaten.” He licked his lips, like a
cat who thinks of meat. "In Paris I
had found it easy and inspiring to kill
founded and conducted a rather interest-
persons, with a sense of added strength
ing night school, for the study of diabo-
following. But they caught me and put
lism in its relationship to science. And in
me in what they called an asylum. I was
1936, certain summer vacationists on
supposed to be crazy. They confined me
Long Island were almost frightened out
closely, but I, reading books in the library,
of their wits by a lurking thing that
grew to know what the change was that
seemed half beast, half man.” He chuck-
came upon me at certain intervals. I
led. "Your Literary Digest made much
turned my attention to it, and became able
of it. The lurking tiling was, of course,
to control the change, bringing it on or
myself.”
holding it off at will.”
We stared. "Say, why do you do these
He looked "But I’m
at Susan again.
things?” the constable blurted.
ahead of my I was at
story. Once, when
Zoberg turned to him, head quizzically
school, I met
American stu-
a girl —an aslant. "Why do you uphold your local
dent of science and philosophy. She
laws? Or why does Judge Pursuivant
laughed at my wooing, but talked to me
study ancient philosophies? Or why do
about spirits and psychical phenomena.
Wills and Susan turn soft eyes upon each
That, my dear Susan, was your mother.
other? Because the heart of each so in-
When the end of the war brought so
sists.”
many new things, it also brought a dif-
ferent viewpoint toward many inmates of Susan was clutching my arm. Her fin-

asylums. Some Viennese doctors, and gers bit into my flesh as Zoberg’s eyes
sought her again.
later Sigmund Freud himself, found my
case interesting. Of course, they did not "I found the daughter of someone I

arrive at the real truth, or they would once loved,” he went on, with real gen-
not have procured my release.” tleness in his voice. "Wills, at least, can

"After that,” I supplied, writing swift-

see in her what I saw. A new inspiration
came to me, a wish and a plan to have a
ly, "you became an expert psychical in-
comrade in my secret exploits.”
vestigator and journeyed to America.”
who had once
"A beast-thing like yourself?” prompt-
"Yes, to find the girl
ed the judge.
laughed and studied with me. After some
years I came to this town, simply to trace Zoberg nodded. "A lupa to my lupus.
the legend of this Devil’s Croft. And —
But this girl Susan Gird had not in- —
here, I found, she had and died,
lived herited the psychic possibilities of her

and left behind a daughter that was her mother.”

image.” "What!” I shouted “You yourself said
352 WEIRD TALES
that she was the greatest medium of all as observer. Seeing a beast-form, they
time!’’ would tell her afterward that it was she.”
“I did say so. But it was a lie." "Zoberg," I said between set teeth,
”
"Why, in heaven’s name "you’re convicted out of your own mouth
"It was my hope," he broke in quiet- of rottenness that convinces me of the
ly, make of her a medium, or a
"to existence of the Devil after whom this
lycanthrope —
call the phenomenon which grove was named. I wish to heaven that
you will. Are you interested in my pro- I’d killed you when we were fighting."
posed method?" He gazed mockingly "Acb, Wills,” he chuckled, "you’d
around, and his eyes rested finally upon have missed this most entertaining auto-
me. "Make full notes-, Wills. This will biographical lecture.”
be interesting, if not stupefying, to the
"He’s right,” grumbled O' Bryant; and,
psychic research committees.
"Let him go on,” the judge pleaded with
"It is, as you know, a supernormal sub-
me.
stance that is exuded to change the ap-

pearance of my body. What, I wondered,

“/^nce sure of this power within
would some of that substance do if V-/ her," Zoberg said deeply, "she
smeared upon her?"
would be prepared in heart and soul to

him,
I started
but
to growl out a curse upon
Judge Pursuivant, rapt, mo-
change at touch of the ointment — the ec-
toplasm. Then, to me she must turn as a
tioned for me to keep silent.
fellow-creature. Together, throughout the
"Think back through all the demonol- world, adventuring in a way unbeliev-
ogies you have read," Zoberg was urg- able
"

ing. "What of the strange 'witch oint-

His voice died, and we let it. He stood
ments' that, spread over an ordinary hu-
in the firelight, head thrown back, man-
man body, gave it beast-form and beast-
acled hands folded. He might have been
heart? There, again, legend had basis in
a martyr instead of a fiend for whom a
scientific fact.”
death at the stake would be too easy.
"By the thunder, you’re logical,” mut-
"I can what spoiled the seance," I
tell
tered Judge Pursuivant.
told him after a moment. "Gird, sitting
"And damnable,” I added. "Go on.
opposite, saw that it was you, not Susan,
Doctor. You were going to smear the who had changed. You had to kill him
change-stuff upon Susan.” to keep him from telling, there and then.”
"But first, I knew, I must convince her "Yes,” agreed Zoberg. "After that,
that she had within her the essence of a you were arrested, and, later, threatened.
wolf. And so, the seances." I was in an awkward position. Susan
"She was no medium,” I said again. must believe herself, not you, guilty.
"I made her think she was. I hypno- That is why I have championed you
tized her, and myself did weird wonders throughout. I went then to look for

Jn the dark room. But she, in a trance, you.”

did not know. I needed witnesses to con- "And attacked me," I added.
vince her.” "The beast-self was ascendant. I can-
"So you invited Mr. Wills,” supplied not always control it completely.” He
Judge Pursuivant. sighed. "When Susan disappeared, I
"Yes, and her father. They had been went to look for her on the second eve-
prepared to accept her as medium and me ning. When I came wood, the
into this
W. T. —
 THE HAIRY ONES SHALL DANCE 353

change took place, half automatically. We were all starting forward. I paused
Associations, I suppose. Constable, your a moment to put Susan behind me, and
brother happened upon me in an evil in that moment O’Bryant and Pursuivant

hour.” sprang ahead and came up on either side

"Yep,” said O’Bryant gruffly. of Zoberg. He was still alive, for he
"And that is the end,” Zoberg said. writhed up to a kneeling position and
"The end of the story and, I suppose, the made a frantic dutch at the judge's coat.
end of me.” O'Bryant, so dose that he barely raised
"You bet it is,” the constable assured his hand and arm, fired a second time.
him. "You came with the judge to finish Zoberg spun around somehow on his
your rotten work. But were finishing it knees, stiffened and screamed. Perhaps I

for you.” should say that he howled. In his voice

"One moment,” interjected Judge Pur- was the inarticulate agony of a beast
suivant, and his fire-lit face betrayed a wounded to death. Then he collapsed.
perplexed frown. "The story fails to ex- Both men stooped above him, cautious
plain one important tiling.” but thorough in their examination. Final-
"Does it so?” prompted Zoberg, in- ly Judge Pursuivant straightened up and
clining toward him with a show of negli- faced toward us.
gent grace. "Keep Miss Susan there with you,” he
"If you were able to free yourself and warned me. ”He’s dead, and not a pret-
”
kill Mr. Gird ty sight.”
"By heaven, that’s right!” I broke in. Slowly they came back to us. Pur-
"You were chained, Zoberg, to Susan and suivant was thoughtful, while O’ Bryant,
to your chair. I’d go bail for the strength Zoberg’s seemed cheerful for the
killer,
and tightness of those handcuffs.” first time sincehad met him. He even
I
He grinned at each of us in turn and smiled at me, as Punch would smile after
held out his hands with their manacles. striking a particularly telling blow with
"Is it not obvious?” he inquired. his cudgel. Rubbing his pistol caressing-
We looked at him, a trifle blankly I
ly with his palm, he stowed it carefully
suppose, for he chuckled once again. away.
"Another employment of the ectoplasm,
"I’m glad that’s over,” he admitted.
that useful substance of change,” he said
"My brother can rest easy in his grave.”
gently. "At will my arms and legs as-
"And we have our work cut out for
sume and hold the rings of the
thickness,
confining irons wide. Then, when I wish,
us,” responded the judge. "We must de-
” cide just how much of the truth to tell
they grow slender again, and
when we make a report."
He gave his hands a sudden flirt, and
the bracelets fell from them on the in-
O’Bryant dipped his head in sage ac-
stant. He pivoted and ran like a deer.
quiescence. "You’re right,” he rumbled.
"Yes, sir, you’re right.”
"Shoot!” cried the judge, and O'Bry-
ant whipped the big gun from his holster. "Would you believe me,” said the

Zoberg was almost within a vine-laced judge, "if I told you that I knew it was
clump of bushes when O' Bryant fired. I Zoberg, almost from the first?”

heard a shrill scream, and saw Zoberg But Susan and I, facing each other,
falter and drop to his hands and knees. were beyond being surprized, even at that.

[THE END]
W. T.—
 <?uarded
By MEARLE PROUT
A brief tale of a murder and an attempted murder —by the author of
"The House of the Worm

T HE sound of a shot suddenly

broke the stillness of the May
morning, and echoed back from
across the valley. A smoke
puff of blue
"I got you, didn’t I?”
a thick stream of tobacco juice.
makes you think
same way?”
I
he said, ejecting

won’t get Ezekiel the

"What

arose from a clump of green-briars and "You won’t, Jed —you can’t —because
drifted away downwind. Out in the road, — I won't let you!”
Abner Simmons dropped the bag of grain He was fast weakening from the
he was carrying and, with a look of dumb frightful flow of blood. Overcome from
heap to the
surprize, sank in a quivering
the effort of speaking, Abner closed his
ground. Half his side had been shot
eyes and lay still. A second
later a sudden
away. convulsive movement shook his body,
The green-briars parted with a sudden and his eyes opened again. This time they
lifeand Jed Tolliver emerged, straighten- were fixed and staring.
ing his long form as he shambled toward With a grunt of satisfaction Jed
the road. As he walked he broke his
shouldered his gun and started back up
double-barreled shotgun, flicked out the the mountain, moving with the long ef-
empty cartridge and blew through the fortless stride of the Tennessee mountain-
barrel, sending a thin stream of acrid eer. He did not fear punishment for his
smoke out of the chamber. He stooped crime. Here in the Tennessee mountains
over his fallen enemy. the long arm of the law seldom reached.
"Said I’d get you," he reminded the The only thing to fear in a case of this
other brutally. He inserted a fresh cart- kind was the dead man’s relatives, and
ridge and closed the gun with a snap. now there was only one — Ezekiel, a slim

The man in the road rolled over with lad of twenty, who could not even shoot
a convulsive movement and stared up at expertly.

him. Yes, Jed reflected as his long strides

"That kid brother of yours is next carriedhim through the sparse growth of
and last,” Jed continued. "Then I’ll be cedar and blackjack, this part of Tennes-
through with the lot of you.” see would soon again be a decent. God-
Abner grinned. It is an awful thing fearing community. . . . Foreigners, the
to see a dying man grin. Jed shuddered Simmonses had been, from somewhere
in spite of himself. back East —
Carolina, or Virginia, maybe.
•
"You can’t, Jed —not Ezekiel "
They hadn’t been like the mountain
It was not a pleading. Rather, it was folk. . . .

calm, assured, as though the other were And what was that crazy talk Abner
stating a known fact. Jed shuddered had made? He’d stop Jed from getting
again, before he felt quick anger rising. Ezekiel?How could he, if he was dead?
354
 GUARDED 355

Jed chuckled to himself. Here in Tennes- Jed parted the leaves carefully and
see, folk didn’t believe. . . . peered out. A hundred feet behind him
was the low wall of forest he had just

M
from
ore than a week passed before Jed
again took his well-oiled shotgun
its place on the wall and started
left; two hundred feet in fro/it of him

—
was the house a rude two-room shack;
two hundred feet beyond that the wall of
over the mountain. He was in no great the forest began again. Jed looked at the
hurry about Ezekiel — instead, he rather house more closely. There was no sign
enjoyed waiting. Ezekiel was the last of of movement, but the thin line of smoke
the three Simmons brothers, and knowing which curled from the chimney told him
that the foreigner was over there, and that Ezekielwas inside, probably prepar-
that he was going to kill him, gave life ing his midday meal. With a sigh of con-
a curious sort of zest. . . . Likely the kid tentment he sat down and leaned back
didn’t even know who shot his brother. closer to his gun, idly listening to the

Jed laughed silently at the thought, add- chatter of birds in the forest, and the
ing to himself that the boy probably rustling of the leaves in the arbor.
wouldn't do anything about it if he did Howlong Jed sat there he did not
know. He wasn’t like the mountain know. Fie was suddenly aroused from a
people. . . .
semi-stupor by the sound of a banging
But morning all of Jed’s im-
this door. Startled into instant activity, he
patience had returned. The sun shone swung around to peer through the leaves.
hotly on the Tennessee hills, and raised Ezekiel was leaving the house, swinging
an almost visible veil of vapor from the in his hand an empty w ater-bucket.
r

tiny branch which flowed through the Going to the spring, Jed reckoned. If so,
hollow. Well, he’d waited long enough. his path would take him within fifty feet
With a grimace of distaste at the three- of the arbor. Jed gloated.
mile traipse across two mountains, Jed With hands suddenly unsteady, the
swung his gun over his shoulder and man in the arbor laid his gun on the
started down the slope. ground, the muzzle barely extending
When, an hour and he
a half later, through the leaves. Why take a chance?
arrived at the small clearing which was He would wait — at fifty feet he couldn’t
the Simmons place, he was not as tired miss.

as he had expected to be. The nervous Unmindful of his danger, Ezekiel

exhilaration of the man-hunt buoyed him came slowly down the path, bearing
up, made him tensely aware of things diagonally nearer to the arbor. . .
. Jed
around him. He
paused only a moment suddenly wondered why he no longer
at the fringe of scrub oak that bordered heard the aimless chatter of birds in the
the clearing; then, bending almost forest, why the light wind no longer
double, he sprinted a hundred feet to the stirred the broad leaves above him. It

grape-arbor. was uncanny, this noonday quiet. Impa-

tiently, he shook off the feeling.
Safe inside the leafy bower, Jed leaned
1
his gun against a supporting post and "So I can’t do it, Abner?” he whis-
looked about. Here the vines had been pered to the empty air, but somehow the
trained over a rude wooden lattice so words clutched at his throat, and he
that a thick wall and roof of leaves now wished he hadn't said it. No matter, a
effectively hid him from anyone outside. few seconds now
35(5 WEIRD TALES
Jed cursed the trembling of his hands ed reached home in a blue funk. The
as he aimed. What was the matter with J long tramp across the mountains in the
him? He could see Ezekiel’s slender form early summer heat had melted away most
now above the barrel of his gun; he of his fears, but his nerves were still

nerved himself to pull tire trigger. The badly shaken. Now that he could look
top of his head suddenly gone cold, Jed at the incident in a sober light, he re-
dropped the gun and looked quickly fused to credit his senses. As the distance
around him. No, the day was bright as between himself and the scene increased,
ever — he could have sworn.
yet
heartedly now, he picked
Half- . . . he had come more and more to believe
up the gun to the occurrence an hallucination, brought
sight at the form
which had already on by the long walk through the heat.
passed the nearest point. He had not been After all, he recalled, he had almost fal-
wrong! A black nebulous cloud hovered len asleep in the arbor while waiting for
over the barrel of his gun and created the Ezekiel to appear. Perhaps he had
illusion of darkest night! dreamed part of it? . . .

Shrieking a curse, Jed Tolliver leapt However Jed believed his ex-
logical
upright and pointed, not aimed, the gun planation, he did not again go near the
at where Ezekiel should be. He snapped Simmons place. Weeks passed. Always
both triggers simultaneously, but as he he promised himself that he would soon
fired something clutched at his arm, and finish the task so ingloriously begun, but
the hot lead sizzled harmlessly through day by day he waited, until nearly three

the air.
months had gone. At first he had feared
Ezekiel had recognized him in those few
Shaking as with a chill, blind rage
seconds it had taken to sprint from the
within him struggling with black fear,
grape-arbor to the cover of the woods.
the mountaineer stood irresolutely within
Later, as he heard nothing of it, he de-
his leafy ambush. He was quickly aroused cided he was safe from that side. The
to activity by a loud report and the crash end came in an unexpected manner. One
of lead against the wooden lattice. A afternoon early in August Jed had walked
sharp pain burned his left arm where one to the village. He stayed longer than he
of the pellets had found its mark. Ezekiel had intended, and shadows were already
had fled to the house and opened fire. growing long when he started home. Not
wishing to be out later than necessary,
Without waiting to reload his gun, Jed
he took a short-cut through the woods
crashed through the side of the bower
which would take him within a half-mile
and fled to the safety of the trees. As he
of the Simmons place.
entered, buckshot spattered harmlessly
around him. The sun was setting as he entered the
Simmons hollow, a half-mile below the
Safe within the sheltering growth, Jed
house. He felt vaguely uneasy. Though
halted to reload his gun.
he told himself he was not frightened,
"Damn you, Abner!” he shouted to he found himself wishing for the pro-
the stunted oaks. "I’ll get him yet!” tection of his gun. Nervously, his hand

As he turned to go he thought he strayed to the hunting-knife stuck in his

heard a low mocking laugh, but reasoned belt, and tested the keen edge.
later that it was only a squirrel chattering Walking diagonally across the hollow,
a protest at the sound of his voice. which was largely devoid of trees, he
 GUARDED 357

turned aside to go around a cluster of Suddenly Jed tugged at his belt and
young which was directly in his
cedars leapt forward.
path. Suddenly he drew back sharply. "Got you!” he shouted aloud.
Again his hand tested the keen edge of But the exultant cry died suddenly in-
that knife, but not this time from nerv- to a moan of horror. The arm bearing
ousness. Jed was not thinking now of the knife poised high for the blow, Jed
defense. felt something like an electric shock
course through its length. Instead of
Two hundred feet beyond the cedars,
on the smooth unbroken grass floor of the
swinging forward to strike the man in
front of him, the knife turned in his
hollow, was a man milking. His back was
hand, his wrist and elbow bent at a crazy
turned to the cedars, but Jed thought he
He angle, and the razor-edge steel ripped
recognized that slim youthful form.
through the cords of his neck.
believed it was Ezekiel.
Staggered more by his realization of
Stepping lightly, one hand on his belt
the awful consequences than by present
where he could immediately grasp the
pain, Jed sank to the grass, while gouts
knife, Jed moved into the open. Half-
of blood spurted from a torn jugular.
way across the level space, his hand
His first mad terror past, he became
moved yet closer to the knife, while the
aware that Ezekiel was standing over
ghost of a grin curved his lips. Without
him, scorn darkening his features.
a doubt it was Ezekiel Simmons. The
"So it was you, Tolliver. Abner
man milking The milk
did not look up.
—
warned me about you.”
jetted into the half-filled bucket
low murmur, just loud enough to mask
with a
"I’d have got you too
”
only Ab- —
ner
Jed’s guarded footsteps.
"Abner was a good brother. He told
Step by step Jed advanced. If only — —
me weeks before he died that if any-
Ezekiel did not see him! If only the cow
did not sense his presence and turn un-
thing happened, he’d —guard me.”
himself weaker. His head was
Jed felt
expectedly! Step by step further
was tense with excitement. There
—Jed
was
strangely without and objects
weight,
no around swam lazily in the pale twilight.
midday sun this time to blind his eyes He lay back on the grass.
and fill his soul with a nameless fear. Nor "Should have got you, Ezekiel
would he be unnerved by the twilight —
shouldn’t have missed,” he murmured
stillness; it was always still at sunset, here sleepily as the shadows gathered.
in these mountains. . . .
He raised his head slightly to listen.
Ten feet now. The milk still swished Was that a light mocking laugh he heard
into the pail uninterruptedly, the steady in the grass beside him? He listened
grinding of the cow's molars never again, before the darkness came down.
ceased. No —he could not be sure. . . ,
 Vhe
eakwood Box
By JOHNS HARRINGTON
San Pedro Joe found the secret that was contained in that intricately
carved Oriental box

ITU ETTER pay the cash,” snarled Shanghai, who told me he bought it from
sfllow San Pedro Joe into the a priest; he said there was a dire curse to
telephone mouthpiece. The anyone who opened the box, but that it

speaker jerked his head to one side and would bring power and good luck to the
glanced from the cramped phone booth owner as long as he did not try to do so.
into the almost-deserted drug store, check- I always have said that the box was most
ing to see whether his conversation had likely stolen from a temple by the ped-
been heard. It was late afternoon — a sul- dler, or by some other member of the

try and stuffy summer day. street-scum parade,” Wright would con-

"That teakwood box don't mean much clude.

tome,” Joe continued in a hoarse tone. It would have been difficult to open the
"And if you want it pretty bad, I’ll sell box, even if someone did want to pry
it —otherwise the thing gets chucked out, into it,because its lid was apparently op-
see?" erated by a complex series of springs and
Mrs. Floyd Wright’s tiny, ill-painted pivoting levers. The singularity of the
cottage in a smelly Los Angeles suburb object, its weirdness and strange delicacy,
had been ransacked a few days previous- gave it a curious value. When it had been
ly, leaving bedding overturned, furniture made and by whom —what exotic sights
stuffings tumbling everywhere. The the container had witnessed —were un-
teakwood box, to the fidgety old woman, answered queries which added to the liv-
far overshadowed in importance the ing personality of the teakwood box. An
amount of cash and the few pieces of sil- evil power, dull and half asleep, yet
ver which had also been stolen. Oddly again glowing, awakening, seemed in-
carved and strangely arresting, the prize closed within the meticulously decorated
had been a gift to Mrs. Wright from her teakwood. Though
Wrights had the
husband, recently killed in a factory ex- been almost afraid of the box from the
plosion where he had been night watch- start, they had nevertheless believed that

man. He had purchased the box during a the spirit which might lie within it would
vagabond trip to China in his boyhood not hurt them if they did not molest it,
days. for they had lived good lives.
The teakwood container had never Some day, the spirit would awaken and
been opened by either Mrs. Wright or her strike, but it would not be at a time when
husband. "Betty,” he used to say while they were about. Death, red, grinning,
dozing in the parlor and studying the and yellow-fanged, was a part of the ex-
box, "that thing is jinxed, just like I was otic treasure; it was not the death of God-
told. It’s dangerous, leave it alone. There fearing men and women, but the bloody,
is a dreadful native curse on it. merciless deity of those who belonged in
"I got the box from a streetpeddler in the realm of evil. The little wooden
35S
 THE TEAKWOOD BOX 359

ghouls -which stuck forth from the sides owner, because of the obvious care with
appeared to be tireless, unearthly sen- which it was kept. The old woman was
tinels, waiting, watching for a suitable sniffling softly into a tiny, lace handker-
offering for their drooling master within. chief which she clutched in thin, ivory-

The stick-bodied widow, shut off in a colored hands.

little corner impervious to the noisy "One hundred and fifty bucks or noth-

streets around her, had prized the six- in'!” sneered San Pedro Joe. These old
inch-high box much more than anything people got on his nerves. They were so
else she owned, because of the eccentric damned irritating and slow.
affection her husband had placed on it "But I can’t—can’t get that much
when he w-as alive. Though he always money,” trembled Mrs. Wright, her fin-
feared the box, he would sit and watch it gers tightening around the phone re-
for hours, without uttering mpre than a ceiver.
phrase. One time when his wife had re- "You’re out of luck then, old woman,”
turned from shopping, she found him deridingly returned the thief, and hung
standing in the little yard, blanched and up. Ordinarily, he would have dickered
trembling. to get the best price possible for the
"Never, never, can we sell or dispose stolen object, even though it was lower
of that box!” he cried. "The devil inside than he first demanded. But in this case,
told me so; if we did, he would do some- it gave him a feeling of satisfaction to
thing horrible!” crush brutally the faltering woman’s hap-
Mrs. Wright wondered whether her piness. San Pedro Joe slowly stepped out
husband had concentrated for so long on of the phone booth, and quickened his
the object that his imagination had given pace as he neared the store entrance. He
him that message, but because of the spat at the curbing.
frightened look in his eyes she accepted His pasty, selfish face was set off by
what he and did not question him
said thin, twisting lips. The black suit he
about it. Wright never spoke about the wore was ill-kept, bulging in the wrong
teakwood box after that, but he sat with places. was young Joe’s habit to drum
It

it oftener than before; his face, rather
than appearing curious, had a grim, hyp-
notized look as he gazed in silence
the treasure.
Carefully dusted several times a week,
and kept glistening with polish, the curio
had rested in a place of honor on the liv-
ing-room mantelpiece, where it some-
his fingers on any surface convenient
when he was uneasy, and that was most
upon of the time. His watery, cold blue eyes
were continually shifting, weighing peo-
ple he encountered. Joe specialized in
robbing ill-kept, run-down homes; there
was nearly always something worth his
troubles, and then his victims seldom

times glowed a mysterious, uncanny lus- could afford to have much investigation
ter when a few stray rays of the sun concerning their losses. He was like a
penetrated to it from the curtained win- cunning spider feeding on bewildered,
dows. fluttering moths caught in his net.

In half an hour Joe arrived at his

B
thief
ut Mrs. Wright

who had
could not comply
with the ransom demands of the
and realized
snatched it
apartment, located in
story stucco in the southwest part of
Angeles. A
a battered,

brief stretch of yellow, dry

two-
Los

the esteem placed on the box by its grass ran between the sidewalk and the
360 WEIRD TALES
plaster-chipped structure.Light from the care? Joe wished that fool down the hall
disappearing was shining on the
sun would keep quiet; for the first time in his
cheerless front windows. Leaving his life he felt uncertain, confused.

poorly-kept coupe at the curb, he stepped San Pedro Joe was proud of his ability
quickly across the withered lawn and up
to do a neat job on breaking into houses,
the cement steps of the building to his
opening strong-boxes, and his conceit
rooms. prompted him again to forget his fore-
After a snack of cold beans and white bodings and test his skill by attempting
bread, gulped with some warmed-over to discover the combination of the box;
Joe brought the teakwood box out
coffee, otherwise, being increasingly nervous, he
from the place where he had hidden it probably would not have taken the pains
sink. Darkness had come
under the messy which he did to open it so carefully. His
and the moon had not yet risen. Billows fingers trembled —he licked dry, swollen
of black, angry clouds were' scattered in lips. After working for some minutes, he
the sky. Putting the box on the kitchen roughly pushed the box from him. Joe
table, he stood back and regarded the imagined the curse, the words of evil, an
thing. It appeared ominous and resentful idol guardianmight have incanted on the
on the scarred table-top under the white one who pried into the sacred box, for
ceiling light. Joe thought he sensed a perhaps it contained some treasured jew-
feeling of unearthly life in the booty be- els or a temple secret, rather than being
fore him. Someone down the hall was simply a hiding-place for Wright’s pen-
coughing hoarsely, and the thief felt nies.
chilled.

Suddenly, Joe returned to himself and

became intensely curious about that box.
He considered what he had found out
T he
bent
again, as
investigator eagerly, impatiently,
over the shining teakwood
though suddenly possessed, and
about it from Mrs. Wright, who, in her continued his manipulation of the curio's
desire to get her treasure back, had carved knobs and queer levers. For a mo-
breathlessly poured out the whole story ment, he thought he detected a slight,

when questioned. Maybe Mrs. Wright’s shrill cry, followed by a tiny, penetrating
old man had cached some precious whistle. Sweat broke out on Joe’s brow
stones or money in the container, conjec- as he doggedly kept at his task, fas-
tured Joe, and had fabricated the yarn cinated, now unable to pause. Shortly he

about the curse in qxder to keep people pressed an unobtrusive bump which had
from trying to open the box. The thief, been revealed by sliding a ghoulish little
flamed by Inis greed, decided the teak- figure ornamenting the container’s front -

wood curio deserved an investigation be- to one side. The lid slowly raised up-
fore he discarded it. ward, as though controlled by a hidden
spring. The crook nervously pressed
At first, he picked up a hammer which
harder on the button he had discovered,
was kept in one of the dish-closet draw-
in order to hasten the opening of the lid.
ers, but after a moment’s consideration,
he determined to try and open the box by
He was waiting for something — his fin-
ger seemed frozen to the box, his whole
its mechanism. Perhaps he could sell it
body was Sweat was trickling
stiffened.
to an antique-dealer after examining
what might be inside. Yet had that been
down his back, yet he was somehow cold.
tine real reason for his decision to use Suddenly, a sharp, biting flame burned
 THE TEAKWOOD BOX 361

in his thumb, as though he had put it in First it came spasmodically, but broke
a fire of hot coals. A strange numbness down into a low gurgle, a sucking sound.
ran through his arm. He stared down at The thief's heart seemed to bloat and
the table to see a neatly-concealed needle, swell, yet tried to beat faster; Joe clutched
probably hollow, slowly retreating into at his hot brow with clammy, weak hands.
the side of the box; in the same glance Young San Pedro Joe, a short time ago
he saw that the teakwood curio was successful light-finger man, fell dead on
empty, contained nothing. the kitchen floor. The white light shone
Blood was on his thumb, dripping on his ill-proportioned, slight body. For
from under the finger-nail, where seemed a moment, there seemed a slight rustling.
to be an inflamed, tiny wound. He heard A dirt}’, filth-incrusted window banged
a peculiar, spine-stiffening cackle, on the open. But all was quiet outside in the
same penetrating high key as the whistle. hot, choking night air,

Howard Phillips

Lovecraft
Master-writer of the weird, essayist, poet, 1890-1937

By FRANCIS FLAGG

He lived —and now is dead beyond all knowing

Of life and death the vast and formless scheme
:

Behind the face of nature ever showing

Has swallowed up the dreamer and the dream.
But brief the hour he had upon the stream
Of timeless time from past to future flowing
To lift his sail and catch the luminous gleam
Of stars that marked his coming and his going
Before he vanished: yet the brilliant wake
His passing left is vivid on the tide

And for the countless centuries will abide:

The genius that no death can ever take

Crowns him immortal, though a man has died.
 ^e in the Window
(Adapted from the German of Wilhelm von Scholz)

By ROY TEMPLE HOUSE

What strange prescience had the bearded man of his approaching
death ? An odd little story

N THE art gallery of a North Ger- never strayed far from his master’s heels.
He
I man city hangs a lurid oil painting
which represents two Italians way-
always carried a revolver on his per-
son, although in all the years since he
laying and attacking a third. I will tell had acquired it, he had never once had
you the history of the painting. occasion to fire it off.

In the nineties of the last century, a But when he came near his garden
young German painter was living in the gate,he never failed to find himself shiv-
outskirts of Rome, in an isolated little ering with apprehension till his slightly
house surrounded by a vineyard. One trembling fingers had the gate unlocked.
fine, bright moonlight night, after sitting He could almost visualize a big fellow
over the wine hour with two or
till a late gliding around the comer and stepping
three friends down in the city, he came out threateningly in front of him. He
home about midnight. He had to walk always had his key in his hand before he
some distance beyond the end of the had reached the gate, and he always
street-car line, through a narrow road pushed the key into the lock •with nerv-
that ran between high walls. He never ous haste; on dark nights he would hold
came through that lane late at night with- his lighted cigar toward the lock with the
out a feeling of apprehension. He was a other hand. Then he would lock the gate
poor man, he never wore jewelry, his behind him in a great hurry, unlock his
modest brown cape and dilapidated house door just as nervously, light the
broad-brimmed hat were very much like candle which stood waiting for him to
the clothing of many of his modest the left of the door on the uneven tile
neighbors, visibly not the appurtenances floor, try the door which led into the
of a man of means, and he had had no ground-floor rooms, all of them unoccu-
love affairs in Rome; so that it did not pied except the kitchen and utilized as
seem as if any sort of ambush was likely. lumber-rooms to store his artist’s sup-
He thought a good deal about his fiancee plies, and climb the creaking stairs to the
back in Germany, and he almost always upper floor where were located his spa-
carried a letter from her in his left inside cious studio and his little bedroom. The
vest pocket, just over his heart. As he bedroom was scarcely more than an al-
walked home he was in the habit of cove, and it always stood w'ide open into
whistling to keep his courage up, of talk- the studio, so that as he lay in bed he
ing aloud to himself, bursting out every could see the great wide window and the
now and then with "That’s certainly a starry heavens outside.
fact!” or "Yes, I think that's what I’ll His trip home on this particular eve-
do!” And he was likely to call out at ning had not been without disquieting in-
intervals to his little dog, a Spitz who cidents. Nothing very definite had hap-
362
 THE HEAD IN THE WINDOW 363

pened, and he might have attached no the foot-path. When he had himself
importance to anything that had occurred come abreast the path and peered fear-
if he had not been made a little appre- fully down it, the man had disappeared.
hensive by the eery turn die conversa- There were no buildings along the path,
tion in the artist group had taken. His and it was distinctly visible for some dis-
Spitz had stopped and barked furiously tance. It seemed as if the earth had swal-
into a linden-tree alley a few hundred lowed the man. Or he might have dodged
yards from his garden gate. It was true behind a clump of bushes. But why
that the dog had a nervous streak in him would he have done that? It was strange.
and often grew excited over nothing at For a few minutes the young painter
all. A little earlier, as the artist was get-
had been almost uneasy. Then all at once
ting off the street-car, a very suspicious
the artist in him had gained the upper
looking and acting man in ragged work- hand. He realized that the shape and
clothes had asked him how to reach the manner of the bearded pedestrian had
Valle San Giorgio, a lonely little valley
been very much what he had had in mind
with a chapel in the center of it, a sort of for a figure in a violent night scene which
ravinewhich lay behind and below the he was planning to paint, and he regretted
eminence on which his house was built that he had not seen the man's face more
and which no human being in his senses distinctly. He began to lay plans for
would have thought of visiting at diat sketching what he remembered of the
hour of the night. Then, as he came face and figure before he went to bed,
through the narrow street between the and in his cheerful planning he com-
high walls, he would have sworn he
heard steps on the hard ground behind
pletely forgot his apprehension — till his
dog had begun to bark frantically at the
him. The impression was so strong that entrance of the linden alley.
he turned and looked back more than
Arrived at home, the hadpainter
once. But no one was visible, and it was
hauled his preliminary sketch out of a
only while he himself was walking that
corner, set it up on an easel and rapidly
he seemed to hear the steps. They must
drawn in with charcoal the outlines of
have been only the echo of his own steps
in the uncanny stillness of the night.
the man with the beard. He had origi-
nally planned to make this person the ag-
Finally, at a turn of the crooked little gressor in an encounter. He had thought
street, he had come suddenly within a
of him as rushing out from his conceal-
few feet of a man who was going in the ment behind a wall and running with
same direction, but more slowly. The drawn sword at a favored rival who had
man turned and looked at him, then good-bye to a lady at the gate of
just said
walked slowly away on a path that an imposing palazzo. But some mys-
branched off from the little street. The terious influence seemed to guide him
painter had had only an indefinite im- into a change of plan. He of the beard
pression of the man’s bearded face. But must needs be the victim, not the attack-
his artist eye had taken in the squat, er, and he must be set upon by two men.

heavy frame, which stood out plainly in The painter took out a fresh sheet and
the moonlight, the peculiar swing of the sketched in the new idea. It was curious
man’s walk, and even the wavering shad- how definitely the impression had come
ow which showed rather distinctly on the to him. He knew exactly where to place
wall beyond him before he turned into each individual, how to direct each mo-
364 WEIRD TALES
tion. But the face of the bearded de- breast-high before the second-story win-
fender, the man whose life was forfeit to dow. The rough-boned, carelessly kept
these vicious assassins, would not come face with the tangled hair and beard was
clear to him. Finally he grew tired of unmistakably the face he had caught a
searching, undressed and went to bed. glimpse of on his way home
a few hours
Tomorrow, he said to himself, when I am before. was frightfully distorted. The
It

fresher, I shall be able to think the thing eyes were wide open and staring, the
out better. lips were open and drawn back from the
teeth —
it seemed almost as if the man

H—
night
e went
to sleep at once and slept
But in the course of the
soundly.
he had no idea how long he had
were uttering a terrified cry for help, but
not a sound was audible. On the left
temple there was an ugly wound, with
—
been asleep he started up in bed with the hair matted over it but with the blood
the definite impression that he had heard stilltrickling down over the face. There
something, a call, a cry, or voices talking was no sign of the hands; the arms fell
together. He Complete silence.
listened. straight down from the shoulders. It al-
If he had heard anything, it must have most seemed to the painter, as he studied
been in his dream. It did seem to him as the figure and its attitude a little more
if he had had a dream, and that he had calmly, as if someone had pushed a dead
dreamed about something disturbing, man up into the window from below.
something alarming. But he could not Then, all at once, the horrible apparition
remember what the dream had been disappeared, noiselessly, and the painter
about. He was in the act of lying down saw the trees and the quiet sky behind
again, when he glanced into his studio, and above them.
which lay bathed in the moonlight from At moment
that the dog’s muscles re-
the great window. He saw his dog stand- laxed from his position of tense watch-
ing erect in the center of the room, his fulness. He ran to his master, cowered
head thrust forward and turned toward against him he were seeking pro-
as if
the window, watching and listening in- tection, turned his head back toward the
tently, without barking. He had never window. Then he sat down expectantly
seen the animal act like that before. The before the painter, exactly as he was in
painter called softly. The dog gave no the habit of doing when he saw the artist
sign of hearing him. He did not change take down his hat and his caped cloak to
in the slightest his attitude of absorbed go out.
interest. Then the painter raised his eyes
For a moment the distracted artist
to the window.
could do nothing but stare at the rectan-
At seemed
first it to him as if he must gle of moonlight where the ghastly fig-

be dreaming still. He threw the bed- ure had been. Then he realized the
clothes aside, stared at the window, changed attitude of the dog, and spoke
brushed his hands across his eyes and to the animal. When the little creature
gazed again. There was no doubt about saw that he had his master’s attention,
it. The painter’s eyes were looking into he stood up, wagged his tail, and looked
man whose con-
the eyes of the bearded around expectantly toward the stairway.
duct had puzzled him the night before. The artist took his revolver and went to
It looked as man had climbed up
if the the window. The moonlit landscape was
and stood on something that lifted him calm and silent. Not a sight or a sound.
 THE HEAD IN THE WINDOW 365

If a gang of assassins had held a mur- vinced himself that he had found the key
dered man up to his window, a minute or to the enigma, when his glance fell on his
two before, they could scarcely have made dog, obediently crouching on his cushion,
so complete a get-away in so short a time. but still wide-eyed and excited.- It seemed

The on the window below were

shutters
closed and locked. There was nothing to
climb up by. And except for the feeling
that he had heard something in his
dream, the painter was sure that not a
sound had reached him from outside the
building.
The dog ran back and forth between
the artist and the stairway. Animals have
remarkable leadings, and
thought seriously of making the round
of the garden. But it seemed to him, as
he thought over, that such a procedure
to him exactly as if someone spoke out
from right behind him: "But what about
the dog? Does your psychopathic theory
explain the way the dog is acting?”
Suddenly the painter's mood of anxiety
and puzzlement gave way to one of im-
patience. He was tired and nervous. He
was disgusted with the whole annoying
affair. He dropped on his bed again, and
in a mood of something like defiance, he
the painter
flung off the perplexity and dropped into
a heavy sleep.

N
it
othing happened till morning.
would be useless at best, and that at
worst it would be courting trouble. If
When the bright sun shone into the
window instead of the ghostly moon, he
bandits were about, what could one timid
was ready to laugh the whole matter off
citizen, armed with an old revolver that
as a half-tipsy dream, and to class the
had never been fired in its life, do against
dog’s strange conduct with various other
them? All that could be expected of him,
evidences of unaccountable nervousness
certainly, was to watch from inside his
which that animal had shown at various
house till morning. He closed his win-
dow, and ordered the dog back to his
times. He sat down at his easel and went

cushion.
seriously to work at his new sketch. He
discovered that he knew the bearded face
Just before he drew the window down, now, feature by and the task
feature,
he had had the impression that he heard went smoothly. was marvelous how
It
steps run rapidly along the stone pave- vividly the face and form of the heavy
ment that lay just below it. He raised it fellow came out under the artist’s eager
again, and looked down. No one was in
fingers. This would be his best picture,
sight, and not a sound was to be heard.
he was sure of that.
He stood by the window, struggling to As he was working, he heard some-
get a grip on himself. He wondered if he
body knock at the door downstairs. He
could be ill. He knew that various de-
made a few rapid strokes still, hastily
lusions come from physical causes within
kicked off his slippers and pulled on his
the one who experiences them. He had shoes, and went down. It was doubtless
tried so desperately hard to visualize the
the peasant woman, he thought, who
head which he needed for his picture, brought him his milk every morning, but
that his effort, combined with the effect who brought it at the most unaccountably
of the heavy Falerno wine he had drunk, irregular hours. If she wasn’t willing to
might easily have produced a psychic ef- follow a fairly even schedule, there was
fect which caused him to see visions and no reason why he should discommode
hear sounds that had transpired only in himself to keep her from waiting a min-
his imagination. He had almost con- ute or two.
3 66
When he opened the door, there was
no woman there, and no milk-can. He
strolled down the walk toward the foun-
tain at which the milk-woman often
stopped to water her donkey. As he came
near the fountain he heard voices.
he passed the clump of bushes that had
hidden the place from his sight, he dis-
covered an excited group arguing and
some object which lay
gesticulating about
on the ground. There were two police-
men in the group.
WEIRD TALES
were not yet committed and the man
were begging him to come to his aid.
And as the living man gazed with fas-
cinated horror into the eyes of the dead
man, the expression of the eyes seemed to
When change to one of reproach. The little dog
had been ready and anxious to dash out
and help defend the victim of a band
of assassins, but his master had been too
stupid, too selfish, too cowardly to come
to the succor of a fellow-being in dis-
tress.

"Has something happened?” he in- The painter recovered his self-control

quired as he joined the circle. and said dully to the policeman:
"They killed a man last night,” said "Yes, I think that was the man.”
one of the bystanders. One of the police- "Did you know him?” asked one of
men asked the painter if he had seen or the neighbors with whom the German
heard anything that might throw any painter had a bowing acquaintance. And
light on the mystery. He was about to when the painter shook his head, the
tell bis ghost-story, when it occurred to voluble Italian prattled on:
him how improbable it was, and he con-
"It is much better that the bandits
tented himself with replying that as he
made away with this man than if they
had walked home late at night a man in
had killed a gentleman like you. He
front of him had turned into the little ”
was
side path, and that before he had left
And he touched his finger compassion-
the street-car, a man had asked the way
ately to his forehead.
to the Valle San Giorgio.
From the general discussion that fol-
"Would you know the man in front
lowed, the artist learned that the dead
of you if you saw him again?”
man, who for a good part of his life had
The was not
painter sure. But be-
been a shepherd in the Alban Hills, was a
thought he remembered certain things
strange dreamer of a fellow who claimed
about him. For example, he remembered
to have the gift of second sight, to be
very distinctly that the man had a beard.
able to foretell the future, and to have
The policeman looked up quickly. "Is the power to cure disease by prayer.
this the man?” he asked, and drew off the Members of the group told various stories
sack which had covered the head of the of strange proofs of his psychic powers,
prostrate form. notably of one instance in which he had
The painter started back in terror, and described in great detail a fire which was
for amoment his voice failed him com- raging *at that same moment in a town a
pletely. There was the head he had seen hundred miles away, and of which he had
in the window, the eyes still staring wide, no possible means of knowledge.
the matted hair clinging about the wound "It is strange,” said one of the neigh-
over the left temple, the wild, scraggly bors thoughtfully, "that he didn't fore-
beard. The look of anguish and appeal see what would happen to him w'hen he
was still in the eyes that gazed up into came out here last night!”
the eyes of the painter, as if the deed "Perhaps he did foresee it,” said one
 THE HEAD IN THE WINDOW 367

of the policemen, who had been looking confessed that they had intended to kill
through a handful of papers which had the painter and plunder his isolated
come from one of the dead man’s pock- house at their leisure, but that in their
ets. Among these papers, many of them excitement they had mistaken one man
old and worn from long friction in the for another who was dressed very simi-
pocket, was a clean sheet on which was larly. They had intended, they said, to
printed out very carefully: "I AM GO- break into the studio that same night,
ING A HARD WAY. PERHAPS I but had been so frightened when the
SHALL NOT COME BACK. BUT I dying shepherd had called their attention
AM SAYING ANOTHER MAN’S to their blunder and had warned them
LIFE.” solemnly never to carry out their murder-
ous plan against the painter, that they

T he murderers were caught a few

days later. They were two vaga-
bonds of known evil habits, both of
had taken
And so
to their heels in a panic.
it comes that the picture of the
half-crazy Italian shepherd who saved the
whom had already served prison sen- life of die young German painter is hang-
tences. When they were examined, they ing today in a German art gallery.

From Samarcand*
By E. HOFFMANN PRICE

AS HER guest set the dainty bone smith Clarke’s wife had convinced her
/-% china cup on the onyx-topped, that that remark was inevitable.
teak tabouret and sank back ”My dear,where did you ever get
among die embroidered cushions, Diane those perfectly gorgeous rugs?”
knew to the syllable the words which And Diane, true to form, smiled ever
were to filter forth with the next breadi so faintly, and luxuriated in the suspicion
of smoke; for three years as Hammer- of a yawn: the ennui of an odalisk hard-
•* Fiom WEIRD TALES May, 1929.
ened to the magnificence of a seraglio
for
368 WEIRD TALES
carpeted with an ancient Feraghan rug, favorites, and a new rival added to the
and hung with silken witcheries from the harem every so often."
looms of Kashan. Diane saw the wonder "Good lord, Diane, what next! You
permeate her friend's soul and heard it are unique. Why, one would think you
surge into words. were jealous of them.”

"The rugs? Why well, I married — "Well, I am!”

"Outlandish as that fantastic husband
them along with Ham, you might say.
Yes, they are rather pretty, aren't they?
of yours. I don’t know which is the more
” outre his mania for these beautiful things
But they’re an awful pest at times
with the impossible names, or your
"Naturally,” agreed Louise, who lived
heavens above, it does really seem like
in a loft in the Pontalba Building, where
resentment against them. Now, if you’d
she could look down into the Plaza
Jackson reins in his brazen horse and
where
lifts
married Peter”
— — Louise laughed metal-
lically "he'd never have given you time
his brazen hat in salutation to the French
to be jealous of a rug."
Quarter of New Orleans. "You simply
" "That’s just it,” flared Diane, "I could
couldn’t let the maid clean
forgive flirtations and black eyes, and a
"Maid? Lord help us, but I daren’t
reasonable degree of non-support. But
touch them myself!
heaven-sent prayer-rug”
I tried it,

— Diane
once. That
indi-
these damned rugs —look at that!”

Diane dug her cobraskin toe into the

cated an ancient Ghiordcs, a sea-green
closely worn nap of the Feraghan carpet.
splendor worth more than his right eye to
any collector
— "looked a bit dingy. And "Look at it! Just a rug, the first time.
But live with it day after day. See the
Ham caught me at it. What was left of
wutchery sparkling in it at sunset. Catch
my hair just fell short of a close shingle.
yourself losing yourself in the thrill of its
Do you know, one day I caught him fill-
” three hundred years, wondering that all
ing the bathtub with milk
the ecstasy ever lost in the entire w'orld
"What?”
could be imprisoned in a rug. Then see
"Precisely. Seems some expert claimed your one and only and otherwise adequate
a milk bath improves the luster. So the husband sitting of an evening, hours at a
little Bokhara — that blood-red creature
stretch, staring at it and dreaming of all
beneath your feet — got a treatment fit for the richness and glamor he’s lost through
a Circassian beauty. I’m just waiting for
becoming civilized, learning to wear
him to bring home a duster of bird-of- shoes, and having only one woman, and
paradise plumes for this venerable she his w'ife, about the house. Yes, I
wreck.”
called you up to have you listen to me
Diane stroked what was left of the get the indignation out of my soul. The
peachblow, sapphire and gold nap of an truth of it is, Lou, that if I don’t get out
age-old Senna woven on a silken warp. of this atmosphere soon, 1 11 go utterly
"The truth of it is,” continued Diane, mad. Some day I’m going to move in on
"I feel guilty of bigamy. The man was —
you in your attic anything to get away
married to his rugs long before he ever from all this!”

met me, 'Member how we speculated on "Do you mean to say,” began Louise
the pros and cons of polygamy the other with wide-spaced deliberation, "that
day at Arnaud’s? Well, here I am, one Ham because he
you’d actually leave likes
lone woman competing with a dozen odd to mess and poke round with his rugs,
W. T.—
 THE GIRL FROM SAMARCAND 369

and spend most of his waking moments danced on the crest of Mount Zagros,
”
talking about them? Honestly, now of dancing girls in the gardens of Nai-
shapur, of fountains that sprayed mistily
"Good Lord, I could stand his talking
about them. But" —Diane shuddered
in the moonlit valley of Zarab-shan;
all this they wove into
and
what we now
"Lou, he loves them. Sits there, trans-
learn to catalogue as Sixteenth Century
figured, like a saint contemplating the
dewdrop glistening in the lotus cup."
Persian, or whatever our best guess may
be. Into his masterwork the weaver wove
’'When I suggested, over at the Iron
his soul; so that whoever lives with one
Gate, that you move in with me, I didn’t
of those imperishable sorceries that come
know that you were married — they all
out of the East must in the end feel its
called you la belle Livaudaise, and you
presence unless he be somewhat duller
were the life of everything —and least of
than the very wood of the loom on which
all, I never suspected anyone had you en-
it was woven.
shrined in magnificence like this. Better
think it over, Di — I’ve been through the
Look upon wine
but beware of a Bokhara
as often as you wish,
when
mill, and know ” it is red
I
— red as the blood of slaughter —red as
the embers of a plundered — red-

D
city a
iane from the had been fas-
first
ness charged w'ith the quartered octagons
cinated by the exotic atmosphere in
which Clarke had planted her after their of Turkestan — for in the end you will

how become enslaved to the silky splendor

marriage; but in the end, seeing they
that once graced the tent floor of a
had become a part of him, she half
consciously hated them and their ever-
Tekke prince. . . .

lasting song of Bokhara and Herat of the Diane was right; though Diane never
Hundred Gardens: an unheard song to suspected, even dimly, what in the end
which Clarke listened, and replied in un- really did happen to Hammersmith
spoken syllables. And thus it was that Clarke. For, naturally enough, neither
Diane learned that to live in Clarke’s she nor anyone else saw or heard the Yel-

apartment would be to become an acces- low Girl; that is, no one but Clarke:
sor}' to those precious fabrics that were and he saw and heard too much.
his hard-ridden hobby; for no woman Had she suspected —but she couldn't
would fit into the dim, smoky shadows have. For who would imagine Fate rid-
of that titled salon unless bejeweled and ing to the crossroads in a truck of the
diaphanously veiled she could dance with American Express Company? It just isn’t
curious paces and gestures beneath the done; not until one looks back and sees
sullen glow of the great brazen mosque that it could have happened in no other
lamp as became tire favorite of a khan way.
in far-off Tartary. From the very begin- But unheard-of tilings happen in Turk-
ning, Diane fought to keep her individu- estan; and while one may pause for an
ality untainted by the overwhelming per- evening's glamor beside some moon-
damnably lovely fabrics
sonality of those kissed fountain in the valley' of Zarab-
from Shiraz and the dusty plains of shan, and then march on, forgetting,
Fenghan. there is that which does not forget, being
And Diane was right; for they undying and everlasting; so that though
dreamed, those old weavers, of the roses forgotten, it reaches forth across time and
of Kirman, of the evening star that space, not only clinging to the pile of a
W. T.—
370 WEIRD TALES
rug from Samarcand, but resorting even had ordered. If it were a case of sending
to express trucks to carry it the last step something just as good an unheard-of —
toward capturing the forgetful one. . . . procedure with that Armenian merchant-
All this Diane knew without knowing prince —
he certainly had been crafty
why she knew: and it seemed so reason- enough, for no connoisseur who once
able that there was nothing incongruous touched that ridi pile, whose eyes were
in shuddering and saying as she often once dazzled by those insinuant colors,
had, "I’m afraid of the damned whose senses were stricken by the sorcery
things. . . of cabalistical designs, could ever return it

and say that he had ordered something

A s
k.
THE door clicked behind the de-
parting expressman, Clarke clipped
the leaden seals of the cylindrical bale,
else.

A
Rather would he thank Siraganian
for his error.
silk pile on a warp of blue linen,
cut its stitching, and thrilled at the and woven in the days when Persian
thought of the rug he was about to un- Hafiz was called to account by that fierce
wrap; for the bale was from Siraganian Mongol for a verse wherein the poet
of New York, who by dint of persistent bartered the prince’s favorite cities,

reaching into the East must finally have Samarcand and Bokhara, for the smile of
succeeded in executing Clarke’s impos- a Turki dancing girl, and the mole on

sible order. her left breast: unbelievable fortune had

A tawny, golden silkiness smiled from sent him this incredible rug.

the gaping burlap sheath. And then Clarke’s wondering, tri-

Just a glimpse of that wonder in buif umphant eyes clouded as he thought of a

and cream, with its lotus-bud border, girl besidewhom Samarcand and Bokhara
and frets and meanders in blue and coral were but the tinkle of brazen anklets
and peach, told Clarke that this of all a very long time ago, when there was no
things was as far as possible from what Diane, when Clarke pursued rugs for that
he had ordered Siraganian to get, cost same Siraganian who now sought them
what it might. For in place of Persian for Clarke.
intricacies in deep wine reds and solemn "Egber an Turki bedest ared dili
green, florid magnificence that Isphahan rnara,” muttered Clarke, forgetting all
had given to the world before the but the glamorous perils that had lured
splendor died, Clarke was confronted by him far into lost cities and high adven-
an ancient rug from Samarcand — silken ture. Hafiz was right.
Samarcand in the valley of Zarabshan And for a moment the rug from
thick-napped and luxurious, mysterious Samarcand, its five by seven feet of
with Mongolian cloud bands and
its tawny, silken perfection putting to con-
asymmetrical corner pieces, bats and fusion the priceless Feraghan on which it

dragons, and five-medallioned firmaments had been unrolled, gleamed unregarded

of blue that could come from none but as Clarke’s mind whirled to the sonorous

the vats of Turkestan. accent with which the divine Hafiz had
"Good God! It’s silk!" marveled enslaved the East and its savage con-
•Clarke as he stroked the lustrous pile. querors.
"Egber an Turki ”
"Silk, and by the Rod, on a linen warp!"
He wondered how Siraganian could Strange, how after all this time one
have made that incredible mistake, send- would remember. It must be that one
ing him such a rug in place of what he could never quite forget.
 THE GIRL FROM SAMARCAND 371

The telephone rang; but Clarke ig- fancies that twisted and the thoughts that
nored it until the jangling became too writhed in his strange brain.
insistent, when he muffled the bell with As Diane made her well-rehearsed
several towels and a small cushion. apologies and frothed behind her vi-
"Too bad/’ he apologized, as he took vacious mask, Clarke noted the manila
the cord from his lounge robe and com- envelope that was fastened to the web
pleted the throttling of the almost stifled of rug from Samarcand, and ad-
the
annoyance, "but I simply can’t be dis- dressed to him: a letter, doubtless from
turbed.” Siraganian.
In which he was wrong: for to con- "We regret,” wrote the Armenian,
template that wonder from Samarcand "that thus far w e have had no success in
T

was more disturbing than any voice that finding at any cost a rug of the weave
could creep in over the wire. He fingered you ordered. However, we take pleasure
the rings of dull, hand-hammered gold in forwarding you this rug which a cara-
that were sewed to one of the salvaged van stopping at Meshed left with our
he wondered what palace wall had
sides; agent in that city with instructions to for-
been enriched by that precious fabric — ward it to our New York office and
and with came the knowledge that
it all thence to you. We are pleased that your
that very rug had been a part of his own agent saw fit to use our facilities for for-

past. The life that had been knotted into warding it to you, and wish to congratu-
its pile and the sorcery that had been late you on having obtained such a price-
woven into its pattern were speaking to less specimen. Should you at any time
one of Clarke’s forgotten selves. Yet he care to dispose of it, be so kind as to
was certain that he had never before seen give us an option on it, for we are in a
it; for one could never have forgotten position to offer you a better price than
such as this, though seen but for an in- any dealer or collector in the United
stant. Truly, the rug was a stranger, but States. . .
.”

the presence that accompanied it was de- The rug itself was improbable enough
manding recognition. —but Siraganian’s letter! An insoluble
In the meanwhile, Diane tired of hear- riddle. It couldn’t be a jest. Then
ing the operator’s "They don’t answer,” who ?

and abandoned her efforts to remind True enough, Colonel Merbere’s expe-
Clarke of an engagement. dition must have passed through Samar-
"I wonder,” she mused, as she finally cand, Yarkand, and Kashgar on its way
set aside the useless telephone, "what into the unknown stretches of Chinese
deviltry my b'ten dime is devising.” Turkestan; but his acquaintance with the
And then she sought the rendezvous colonel was slight, and he had no friend
unattended, and made the customary in the colonel's train. And what obscure
apologies for Clarke’s unaccountable acquaintance of the "wish you were here"
absence. post-card banality would send a rug
He might have retreated into that which in the old days served as a gift
dusky inner kingdom which from the from one prince to another?
very beginning he had held against Diane Diane's arrival cut the thread of fancy.
— a silence into which he plunged unac- "Oh, Ham, but it is gorgeous,” en-
companied, not lacking appreciative com- thused la belle Livaudaise as she entered
•

pany, but loving solitude and electing the roseate duskiness of Clarke’s studio.
seclusion rather than the sharing of the And to herself, "Another rival. ...”
372 WEIRD TALES
Then she rehearsed the excuses she the veils of her mystery; saw Clarke sit-

had offered for Ham’s absence, and ting there, eyes shearing the veil and
hoped he'd absent-mindedly contradict half smiling in return, a devotee in the
her the first time he deigned to speak for ecstatic contemplation of a goddess
himself. That done, one must consider shrouded in altar fumes. . . .

the latest addition to the seraglio. "Ham!”

Clarke detailed the story of the rug "Yes,” answered Clarke’s lips. He had
and its riddle. N now perfected the trick of having his
"But who in the world would send body act as his proxy.
you such a gift?” wondered Diane. "Are you taking me to that show
"Exactly no one, Ires chere” tonight?”
"Unless,” Diane pointed out, "it might "What show?” Clarke the simulacrum
be one of your lost loves in those Asiatic stirred lazily in the depths of the cushion-
playgrounds you’ve never entirely left.” heaped lounge. "The truth of it is, my
Clarke laughed, but his derision was dear,” he resumed after a pause during
unconvincing, and Diane knew that he which some memory of the proposed
had been deep in the blacknesses of Asian entertainment must have returned, "truth
nights; knew that her arrival had been ”
of it is I’m awfully busy tonight
an intrusion, that he was but a friendly "Busy sitting there staring at nothing
stranger, babbling to her, a friendly
and sipping Pernod!” flared Diane, the
stranger, of loveliness whose intoxication
wrath of months flashing forth. Then,
forced him to speak of it to anyone, even
as she saw Clarke settle back into the
her.
depths: "Listen, once for all: this non-
The others were bad enough, with sense has lasted too long. I might as well
their everlasting song of Bokhara, and have married a mummy! Either get that
Herat of the Hundred Gardens an un- — thing out of the house, or I’ll leave you
heard song to which Clarke listened, and
to your pious meditations indefinite-
replied in unspoken syllables; they were "
ly
bad enough, they, and those monstrous "What? Good Lord, Diane, what’s
fancies which at times he smilingly ex-
this?”
pressed with deliberate vagueness, but "You heard me. You used to be half
this yellow w'itch from Samarcand human, but now you’re utterly impos-
sible. And if you can’t show me a little

D iane knew that more than a rug had

emerged from that bale whose bur-
lap winding-sheet still littered the floor.
attention, I’m leaving here and now. For
the past many weeks you’ve acted like a
model for a petrified forest. Ever since
At last it seemed that she was intrud- ”
that yellow beast
ing on a tete-a-tete, eavesdropping on a
"Yellow beast?”
monologue; so that when Clarke would
"Exactly! That damned rug is driving
emerge from his reveries, Diane resented ”
the inevitable thought that he was rob-
me crazy

bing himself to keep her company. But "Is, or has driven?” suggested Clarke.

patience reaches its limit, finally. . . . "Lies there like a beast of prey just
She saw it, one night, twinkle and ready to wake. And you sit there, night

smile through a lustrous haze that played after night, staring at it until you fall

over its surface, smile the slow, curved asleep in your chair. Does it go, or do
smile of a carmine-lipped woman through I?”
 THE GIRL FROM SAMARCAND 373

"What do you want me to do? Throw And then it was said that to gain ad-
it away?” mittance to Clarke’s one must
studio
"I don’t care what you do with it. know the code of taps whereby someone
Only I won’t stay in the house with it. who at times left a certain side door bear-
It gives me the creeps. You’ve said en- ing bottles of Pernod announced his ar-
tirely too much in your sleep lately — first rival; for Clarke answered neither door-

yellow rugs, and now it's a yellow girl. bell nor telephone. The vendor of Pernod

I’m through!” was certainly a discreet person; yet even

Clarke's brows rose in Saracenic arches. a discreet seller of absinthe could see no
And then he smiled with surprizing harm in mentioning that his patron found

friendliness and a touch of wonder. enormous fascination in watching the

"Di, why didn't you tell'me sooner? play of sunlight and the dance of moon-
I could understand your craving alligator beams on the golden buff pile of a rug
pears at 3 in the morning — I might have that was more a sleeping, breathing crea-
understood that, but hating a rug is really ture than any sane child of the loom.
”
a new one on me Finally the courier failed to gain ad-
"No, stupid, it’s nothing like that! mittance, despite his tapping in code.
I just hate the damned thing, and no And this he thought worthy of Diane’s
more to be said.” ear.

"Well, lacking the infallible alibi” "He starves himself, petite — since
Clarke glared and assumed his fighting three days now he has not admitted me.
face
— "if you mean I choose between All the while she lies there, gleaming in
you and the rug. I’ll call a taxi right the moon, that awful rug mordieu, it is

now.” terrible. ...”

"Don’t bother. I’ll walk.” Diane had stedfastly denied that which
The door slammed. had been clamoring for recognition. But
Clarke twisted his mustache, and when this last bit was added to what had
achieved a laugh; not merry, but still a gone before, logic gave way, and Diane's
laugh. And then he sank back among fears asserted themselves. That rug was
the cushions. haunted, was bewitched, was bedevilling
"Yellow Girl, I thought you were fan- Clarke; logic or no logic, the fact was
tastic. .
.” plain.
,

Driven by that monstrous thought,

E vieux carre wondered when the Diane exhumed the little golden key-
I J next morning it was rumored that ring and started up Royal Street, deter-
la belle Livaudaise had been seen hurry- mined to cross the barrier before it be-
ing down Saint Peter Street without came impassable. But her determination
speaking to any one of the several ac- wavered; and before fitting the well-worn
quaintances she had met; but when at the key into the lock, she applied her ear to
Green Shutter and the Old Quarter the keyhole, listened, and heard Clarke’s
Bookstore it was announced that Diane voice.
was living in a loft of the Pontalba Diane resisted the temptation to use
Building, wonder ceased. For Diane’s her key and stage a scene that even in
friend Louise had been no less garrulous the imperturbable Vieux Carre would be
than she should have been, so that the sensational for at least a week. Then her
habitues of the French Quarter were pre- pride conquered, and she achieved a most
pared for the news. credible smile of disdain.
374 WEIRD TALES
"Sly devil, pretending it was a rug Her anklets clicked faintly; and very faint
he was so absorbed in. ...” was the tinkle of the pendant that
And, since it was but an amorous esca- adorned her unusual coiffure.

pade, Diane’s unbelievable speculations "All these many days I have sought
were replaced by thoughts reasonable you, my lord,” she began, as she extended
enough not to be terrifying. her arms in welcome. "But in vain, until
tonight, when at last I parted the veil

T hat very night, Clarke was sitting

cross-legged on the
under the red glow of a tall
studio, full
floor of his
and crossed the Border.”
Clarke nodded understanding!)',
looked full into her dark, faintly slanted
and

bronze mosque lamp. Before him, shim- eyes.

mering moonlight that streamed in
in the "And I have been thinking of you,”
through the French windows, lay the rug he began, "ever since someone sent me
from Samarcand, mysterious and golden, this rug oq which you stand. It is strange

with its pale sapphire corner pieces glit- how this rug could bridge the gap of
viewed through
tering like a distant sea a twenty years and bring into my very
cleft between two mountain crests. house a glimpse of the valley of Zarab-
All the witchery and ecstasy that had shan. And stranger yet that you could
ever been lost in the entire world w-ere esecape from your father’s house and find
reassembled, pulsing in the silken pile me here. Though strangest of all, time
which he contemplated. And this was the has not touched you, when by all reason
night, the Night of Power, when Fate you should be old, and leathery, and past
stalked through the corridors of the forty. ... Yet you are lovelier now than

world like a colossus just risen from an you were then, by that fountain in a
age-old throne of granite, resistless and garden near Samarcand.”
unconquerable. Clarke had spent so many "It is not strange,” contradicted the
nights and days of staring that it was in- Yellow Girl, as she pirouetted with
evitable that there must be such a night. dainty feet across the moon-lapped silk.

He saw more than the wonder before "For you see me now as I was when I

him: in place of the marvel woven by wove my soul into this very rug.”
deft, forgotten hands, there gleamed en- Clarke smiled incredulously: which
chantingly as through moon-touched mist was illogical enough, since, compared
a garden in the valley of Zarab-shan. with the girl’s presence, nothing else
Then came a faint, oddly accented should be incredible.
drumming and piping, music to whose "How can that be, Yellow Girl, seeing
tune dead years reassembled their bones that we two met one evening twenty
and danced forth from their graves. And years ago, whereas this rug was woven
their ghosts as theydanced exhaled an when the Great Khan sat enthroned in
overwhelming sweetness that made Samarcand and reproved the Persian Hafiz
Clarke’s brain reel and glow, and his for his careless disposal of the Great
blood surge madly in anticipation of that Khan’s favorite cities. This v/as the joy
which he knew must follow. of kings hundreds of years before you and
”
Then out of the blackness just beyond I were born
the range of the ruddy mosque lamp and "Before the last time we were born.”
full into the moonlight that marched corrected the Yellow Girl. "But die first

slowly across the rug came a slim Yellow time — at least, the first time that I can
Girl, diaphanously garbed and veiled. (Please turn to page 376)
 WEIRD TALES 375

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37(5 WEIRD TALES
end were we spared bowstrings and the
The Girl From we had but
stroke of swift simitars, since
an evening?” And thinking of the empty
Samarcand years of luxurious imprisonment that fol-
lowed, she smiled somberly. "For only
( Continued from page 374)
an evening. And then you forgot, until
recollect — the barred windows of a
this rug —
this same rug I wove centuries
prince’s palace failed to keep
me. And eunuchs
you from
with crescent-bladed
ago — interrupted your pleasant adventur-
ing, and reminded you.
simitars likewise failed. But in the end
"Death stared me in the face. The end
why must all loveliness have an end? — of life more vainly lived than the first. I
bowstring for me, and a sword-stroke for
knew that I was leaving this avatar after
you. ...”
having lived but one stolen evening. So
The Yellow Girl shuddered as she
I sent a trusted servant to carry this very
stroked her smooth throat with fingers
rug to Meshed. For when we met in the
that sought to wipe off the last lingering
garden, you were hunting rugs for him
memory of a cord of hardspun silk. who now seeks them for your delight.
"And from the first,” continued the
And I knew that he would find you if
girl, ”1 knew what our doom would be.
you still lived. Thus it is that I have
So I started weaving, and completed my
crossed the Border, and stand before
task before they suspected
bowstring did its work. My
us and the
soul, my self,
you as I did once before — this time on
that very rug which I wove centuries ago,
being woven cunningly and curiously
while living in hope of another meeting
into silk rich enough to hang on the wall and in dread of the bowstring I knew
of the khan's palace, waited patiently and
would in the end find me.”
wondered whether you and I could have
The moon patch had marched toward
our day again. Tlius it was in the begin-
the end of the rug from Samarcand, and
ning ”
was cutting into the blue web at its end.
"Ah . . . now it does come back to
Clarke knew that when there remained
me,” interrupted Clarke, "as in a dream
no more room for her tiny feet, she
dimly remembered. How compactly and
would vanish, not ever to reappear. But
stiflingly they would wrap me in a bale
Clarke hoped against knowledge.
of silk and carry me past the guards
"Yellow Girl,” he entreated, "my
and into your presence. And by what
door will be barred to friend and ac-
devious routesI would leave you . .
alike, if you will but return
.
quaintance
yes, and how painlessly swift is the stroke
on whatever nights the moon creeps
of a simitar. .”
. .
across our rug. ...”
The Yellow Girl shuddered.
Had Diane, listening at the door,
"A simitar truly wielded is really understood, she would have used her
nothing, after all,” continued Clarke. "I key. But Diane merely heard:
might have been sawn asunder between "And I shall wait for these nights as
planks. Well, and that meeting in
. . .
long as life remains in me. For all that
the garden these short twenty years ago has happened since then is nothing and
was after all not our first ... it seems less than nothing; and all has been a
that I knew then that it was not the first. dream since that one night in a garden
”
Though but for an evening of Zarab-shan.”
"Yes. Just for an evening. So to what Very little remained of the moon
 WEIRD TALES 377

patch. The Yellow Girl stepped a tiny

pace forward, to prolong her stay yet Lose Unhealthy
another few moments. All but the moon-
lit strip of the mg from Samarcand
glowed bloodily in the flare of the brazen
FAT!
mosque lamp. Quickly— Safely
"No, forgetful lover," chided the Yel-
low Girl, "I can not return. I can not
cross the Border again. In Samarcand, ,
USE SLENDARETTE
SCIENCE'S newest discov-
eight hundred years ago we mocked for a ery to banish excess fat
is now available to all fat
while the doom that hung over us, and folks who want to lose
ugly. unhealthy fat. Medi-
in the end called the bowstring but a cal studies have recently
roveu that excess weight
caress of farewell. Again, in the garden is a heavy burden ou
the organs of the
of Zarab-shan we met, we parted, and body. Insurance sta-
tistics prove the
you forgot: so this time I take no death rate of fat
people far leads the
chances. While I can not return, you at death rate of normal
weight people.
least can follow me ... if you will . . .
LOSE FAT WITHOUT
for it is very easy. . .
." STARVATION OIET
SLENDARETTE will
She edged along the ever narrowing take away fatty surplus
harmlessly an<l quickly
strip of moon-bathed silk, and with an without demanding a star-
vation diet or exhaustive
embracing gesture, lured Clarke to rise exercises. Thousands are
•lauy
daily^ using SLENDAR.-
and follow her. ETTE.
"It is so easy move lightly
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but be careful not to disturb your body
and manufactured by Reg-
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Had Diane not turned away from the under the most rigid in-
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door, were she not even now strolling conditions.
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Something left Clarke, tottered peri-
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light that remained, then caught the
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moonlight, then swT eltered in the red
Name .
glow of the mosque lamp.

Coming soon —
A new thriller by <

Goetterdaemmerung SEABURY QUINN appears <

By Seabury Quinn
in WEIRD TALES
A strange tale of the future, by the i

author of the de Grandin stories even month ^

T HE enthusiastic reception of Seabury
Quinn's
issue,
story,
has
further off-the-trail stories
in this magazine.
Roads, in our January
encouraged us to print
from time to time
This story was a reverent
tale of the Crucifixion, a hetaera from the
house of Mary of Magdala, and Santa Claus.
Though there were a few dissident voices of
those who thought the Santa Claus element
childish, the chorus of praise made the vote
overwhelming in its favor.
Suited to a T
William F. Jr., of Washington,
Zuckert,
D. C., writes: "After ten years as a silent
reader of WT, I take this opportunity to
drop a line to the Eyrie. As a whole, I can
find little or no criticism against our maga-
zine, because personally it suits me to a T.
Besides, on the very rare occasions when
I do have an infinitesimal gripe, I say noth-
ing because I realize that there must have
been plenty of readers who did enjoy the
piece; who am I to yelp? I like the high
literary quality of the tales, with that subtle
horror that sort of sneaks up on one. Now
for a couple of orchids to the authors. In
the December issue, I particularly enjoyed
The Sea-Witch by Nictzin Dyalhis. In my
humble estimation, this yarn constitutes one
of the smoothest bits that I’ve ever read.
It didn’t hold a dull moment nor an arid
paragraph from beginning to end. This let-
ter would be incomplete without a mention
of my favorite author and character. I refer,
of course, to Seabury Quinn with his inimi-
table Jules de Grandin —
a grand pair whose
adventures I hope to be able to follow as
long as these old eyes can see the printed
ge. Flames of Vengeance in the Decem-
r issue was grand, but when the January
issue came out with Roads, I got a real sock
What a story I was almost on the last page
! west Smith
378
before
really
it dawned on me just who Claudius
was! That idea was a real inspiration,
and you gave it to us at exactly the proper
time of year. Keep up the good work, Mr.
Quinn, and I can personally guarantee you
at least one family of very avid readers. I
could go on for pages extolling the virtues
of the various authors, but that isn’t very
because perhaps you would like to
practical,
squeeze in a letter from some other reader.
So I close now with a big cheer for Virgil
Finlay. And thanks for listening."
The Light Was Green
Richard F. Behm writes from Los An-
geles: "Thank you for John Speer’s story,
The Light Was Green. A long time has
passed since I have read any fiction as un-
usual and fascinating as the stories written
by Mr. Speer. It is very evident he does not
write until he is definitely sure of the ground
from which his inspiration for his story
sprung."
A Letter from Miss Hemken
Gertrude Hemken writes from Chicago:
"Roads! This is by far the loveliest Christ-
mas story I have ever read. Quinn couples
the Teutonic legends of the Nativity so beau-
tifully. But one thing wonders me Klaus, —
after a tricennium, still had the fair hair and
beard; yet the Santa Claus we know is a
white-haired, white-bearded old fellow.
’Course after two thousand years most any-
one would grow gray, but never mind. —
Somehow or other I was a mite disappointed
in Dorothy Quick this time. Her witch was
somehow so very like another enchantress
in a w.-k. story by an equally w.-k. author.
I really don’t care for these supple sirens
and their frightening powers. Give me a
couple of rip-snorters like Conan and North-
—brave lassies like Jirel of Joiry.
 WEIRD TALES 379

Finlay’s full page is much more to my taste as the most impressive tiling in the January
this time. The spires and skyline look so WT. It gives me to think thus: does not
Other worldish. Well, guess I’ll wait for the world of fantasy hold its good powers as

another installment of The Harry O/res Shall well as and angels as well as
evil, its saints

Dance before I comment —somehow that its fiends and devils? Roads was both lusty
Devil’s Croft is enticing. Raggh—woof and devout, as a good Christmas tale should
grrr — I so very much this Toean Mai-
like be.”
jan, but I cannot pronounce such words sat- Finlay Frontispiece
isfactorily. And so I am riled, in spite of a
Robert A. Madle writes from Philadel-
cat tale —
and such a pretty white carl I have phia: "Thanks exceedingly for inaugurating
often wondered if a tiger would make a the new frontispiece department. Both pic-
good pet. And so the verriichter Austrian
turizations which have appeared have been
is now a block of ice in the black vastnesses
supreme. Virgil Finlay is unquestionably the
of the void —
and thus ends his The Voyage modern master of weird art, as H. P. Love-
of the Ner/tralia. I found the closing install-
craft was the unquestioned master of weird
ment rather
flat, except for the Venusian
fiction. Continue this department, and have
centipedes and volcano. Doctor Keller turned
out a nice one with his Valley of Bo/res — Finlay illustrate the entire interior of the
magazine hereafter. His covers are also
such, I believe, is entirely possible in this
superb, but do not neglect Brundage entire-
strange land of Africa. I was pleased to see
She one of the best of the
your reprint of Ethan Brand I have read it — ly.

decade.”
is artists

so many times along with others of Haw-

Reprints
thorne's tales.”
N. J.
O’Neail writes from Toronto his
Both Lusty anti Devout selection of the fifteen best stories in Weird
Manly Wade Wellman writes from New Tales for 1937, and comments: “You may
York Q'ty: "Let me vote for Quinn’s Roads notice that five —
on my list one third of the

BACK COPIES
Because of the many requests for back issues of Weird Tales, the publishers do their best
to keep a sufficient supply on hand to meet all demands. This magazine was established early
in 1923 and there has been a steady drain on the supply of back copies ever since. At present,
we have the following back numbers on hand for sale:

1934 1938 1936 1931 193a

Jan. Jan. Jan. Jan. Jan.
Feb. Feb. Feb. Feb. Feb.
Mar. Mar. Mar. Mar.
Apr. Apr. Apr. Apr.
May May May May
June June June June
July July July July
Aug.
Sept. Sept. Sept. Sept.
Oct. Oct Oct. Oct
Nov. Nov. Nov. Nov.
Dec. Dec. Dec. Dec.

These back numbers contain many fascinating stories. If you are interested in obtaining
any of the back copies on this list please hurry your order because we can not guarantee that
the list will be as complete as it now is within the next 30 days. The price on all back issues
is 23c per copy. Mail all orders to:

WEIRD TALES
840 N. Michigan Ave. Chicago, Illinois, U. S. A.
380 WEIRD TALES
total —
are reprints; probably not surprizing, print it. A million congratulations to you,
since the reprints represent, in theory, and Mr. Quinn, for a really outstanding story.”
usually in practise, the cream of bygone is-
Norse Mythology
sues. I shouldn’t be surprized if a demand
soon arose for a re-reprint section, in which M. W. Schauffler, of Larchmont, New
some of the reprints of eight and nine years York, writes: "The Howard and Quinn
ago might reappear once more. . . / You stories have been what I have bought the
began reprinting from back numbers in 1928, magazine for, and I have been buying it for
when WT
was only five years old. Now it eight years. One other thing which makes
has rounded out its fifteenth year; and it your magazine a pleasure is that almost
might be reasoned that a story which was always the mythology and other background
worth reprinting once, five years after its data are accurate. So please speak to Nictzin
first publication, might merit another such Dyalhis, if you don’t mind, and ask him to
honor ten years later." check a little more carefully. I don’t know
when I have liked a story better than The
Overrated Sea-Witch. But the moment when his Witch
Richard Kraft, of Allenhurst, New Jersey, and his hero both agreed that Ran was a
writes: "To my mind the most overrated god, not a goddess, wrecked the illusion of
story you have ever published was Quest of factuality for me to the end of the story.
the Starstone. It was simply a cheap thriller And there were two other minor slips: No
and did not compare with Paul Ernst’s Dread viking was ever named Gudrun any more
Summons or Rex Ernest’s The Irm In the . than he was named Eliza, and for the same
December issue Edmond Hamilton again —
reason it is a woman's name. Neither was
writes a winner: Child of Atlantis. Hamil- Comnenus ever spelled with two n’s though —
ton is the best in the business and I enjoy his that’s a small matter. As for the viking’s re-
work immensely. The Sea-Witch was terrible frain to the rowing-song, he probably knows
— I can’t see what Weird Tales readers will more than I do about that I am not an —
find in it, as it was slow and tiresome, noth- authority on Norse legends. But I have a
ing like that swell story of Mary Counsel- feeling that it isn’t entirely, or at least typ-
man’s in that issue, The Black Stone Statue.” ically, a sea refrain.”

Virgil Finlay’s Drawings Quinn’s Masterpiece

Doctor Karl K. Webber writes from Flora, Bernard Austin Dwyer writes from West
Illinois: "This is die first time I have writ- Shokan, New York: "My first choice of
ten you, although I have been an avid reader stories in the January issue is Roads by Sea-
of Weird Tales for about six years. In the bury Quinn. This is truly Quinn’s master-
December 1937 issue, The Sea-Witch is piece; I have never seen anything even re-
‘tops,’ with Flames of Vengeance a close sec- motely so good by him. In my opinion, it
ond, and Child of Atlantis hot on the lat- far overtops even The Phantom Farmhouse.
ter’s heels. One thing must be kept in your Apart from the story itself, which is delight-
publication and that is Virgil Finlay's draw- ful and wonderful —
the fetching together of
ing. I’m a little bit of an artist myself and such ordinarily widely separated elements as
I recognize a masterful touch when I see it. Christ’s crucifixion, a blond heroic warrior
No one can approach his subtle mastery of from the North, a harlot from the house of
pen and ink. Orchids to Virgil!” Magdalene, the Eastern and Western dynas-
ties, and the Middle Ages, the little carved
A Million Congratulations sleighs, the dwarf faery, smiths of tire moun-
JuliusHopkins writes from Washington, tains, and the legend of Santa Claus the —
D. C.: " Roads
is one of the most high-class style itself is very beautiful. I love especially
stories that WT
has ever printed. Through- the last few paragraphs with their flavor of
out, the language is elevating, and not the the iron and heroic North, the Valhalla-like
usual, pulpy kind prevalent in a great many feast; how Klaus laid aside his arms, and
I truly believe that any
tales written today. the final piercing and beautiful paragraph.
magazine would have been glad to have this But I love everything —
and the the story
stony between its covers. should be WT style, from beginning to end. This story . . .

mighty proud to have been privileged to will go down as one of the very best, by any
 WEIRD TALES 381

author, ever to be published in Weird CLASSIFIED ADVERTISEMENTS

Tales. It is a masterpiece, fit to rank with
SMALL ADS WORTH WATCHING
Howard’s Kings of the Night or Lovecraft’s
Whisperer in Darkness. I feel impelled to Authors’ Service
thank Mr. Quinn heartily for giving me the MANUSCRIPTS WANTED. Books, Stories, Plays arid
Articles for placement in U. S. and foreign countries.
opportunity to read so satisfactory, wonder- Motion picture rights placed. Circular T-338 describ-
fully imaginative and beautiful a story. That ing UNIFIED SALES PLAN tree on request. OTIS
ADELBERT KLINE, Authors' and Publishers’ Rep-
style is something to dream about. Next, I resentative, 430 W. 34th St., New York City.
will mention a very short poem Lost Books
Dream dedicated to our departed master
,

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM— Illustrated by

Lovecraft, by Emil Petaja. May I express my Virgil Finlay. Containing twenty-five exquisite illus-
appreciation of how that little poem coin- trations. A beautiful edition you will be proud to
own. Price 35 cents. WRIGHT'S SHAKESPEARE
cides with one’s impressions of the works of LIBRARY, 840 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago.
Lovecraft? 'One fumbles in his scarlet cloak; THE MOON TERROR— A stupendous weird-scientific
world!
novel of Oriental Intrigue to gain control of the
I see his slender fingers move—he turns a Cloth-bound with handsome colored jacket 50 cents —
key . .
.’ a silver key, of course. Congratu- postpaid. WEIRD TALES, 840 N. Michigan Ave...
Chicago.
lations to Mr. Petaja for his splendid little
poem. May we hope for more? My next Business Opportunities
favorite story Toean Matjan, by Vennecte
is NEWSPAPER clippings
pay. Write: Goodall Com-
Herron — a very good story, well tied togeth-
pany, 742 Market St., San Francisco.

Indian Relics
er, and beautiful style. It is exquisitely writ-
ten. don't know when I have read a more
I INDIAN RELICS. Eeadwork. Coins. Stamps. Min-
erals. Old West Photos. Weapons. Curios.
Books.
entertaining story, written in better style. In Temple Mound Birdpoint 15c. Knife, ancient, 15c.
fact, I like the style quite as well as that of Catalogue 5c. Indian Museum, Northbranch, Kansas.

Roads, only that it is of course shorter. I am Magazines

quite sure that I should not care to court ORIENTAL STORIES (Vol. 1, No. 1) Fascinating
that lady. I like The Witch’s Mark, and The stories by Robert E. Howard, Frank Owen, G. G. Pen-
darves, Paul Ernst, Otis Adeibert Kline, and other
Hairy Ones Shall Dance. In the latter, it is favorite writers. Price 25 cents. ORIENTAL STO-
RIES MAGAZINE. 810 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago.
already rather obvious that the wolfish ma- 111., U. S. A.
terialization came from Doctor Zoberg vide
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his thick, sinewy wrists! It is right enter-
FREE! Magic catalog 500 tricks. Amaze, mystify
taining. Let me, too, commend most warmly friends. Write today! LYLE DOUGLAS, Station A-10.
The Inn, in a recent issue. Splendid atmos- Dallas. Texas.

phere.” Miscellaneous
PEOPLE having lost hope or whose doctor has given
Compliment and Complaint up, who desire absent metaphysical help, write to:
ABSENT METAPHYSICAL HELP. Box 420, San
Wilfred Wright writes from Toronto: Diego, California.

"During the last fifteen years that I have WHO IS THEMYSTERIOUS "IiWO"? The solution
to this baffling mystery is thrillingiy told in one of the
been a consistent reader of I have only WT most
TERROR,
startling stories ever written
in book form. Price 50c.
— THE MOON
WEIRD TALES,
written twice to the Eyrie, submitting my S40 North Michigan, Chicago, Illinois.
comments. But your January issue compels
me a
to write for the third time, to express
compliment and a complaint. First the com- The Cream of
pliment. Roads, by Seabury Quinn, stands
out as the most beautiful piece of fantasy Weird Fiction
ever published in any magazine. From early
• Weird Tales prints the best weird
in the story the outcome was obvious, yet at fiction in the world today. The high
no time did it detract from the beauty or in- literary qualityof its stories is evi-
terest of the compelling and reverent treat-
denced by the comparatively large
ment of a sacred theme. Mr. Quinn is in- number of stories from Weird Tales
deed to be congratulated upon his ability,
that have been reprinted or awarded
and I wish to extend to him my personal honorable mention in annual best fic-
thanks for enriching my Christmas by his
tion anthologies. You are assured of
magnificent story. Now for the complaint reading the best when you read Weird
or perhaps I should say question.’ Tire story
Tales, The Unique Magazine.
Toean Matjan by Vennette Herron while I —
382 WEIRD TALES
appreciate ic as a very splendid weird tale, it magazine for only one short year, much to
should have been entered as a reprint, as I my chagrin. I have just completed the Jan-
read the same story in the magazine section uary edition, and I say that there are entire-
of the Toronto Star Weekly three or four ly toomany days to wait until February. The
months ago. With the exception of the re- Witch’s Mark was by far the best in this is-
print story, I always had the impression that sue. Perhaps I am prejudiced, as I am brim-
all stories published in Weird Tales were fid of Irish and Scottish folklore, but the
original, and I would like to be informed translating of Deidre and Shamus into mod-
regarding the editorial policy in this matter. ern life, is in my eyes, a masterpiece. Some
As for my voting for the best stories in the more stories just like it, please, Dorothy
current issue, it is on this occasion impos- Quick! (By the way, is she Irish?) Virgil
sible, for with all appreciation for the other Finlay’s illustrations are still 'splendiferous*
tales in this issue, Seabury Quinn’s Roads (that’s my own invention!) and M. Brun-
defies comparison.” [Toean Matjan was sold dage’s cover picture is grand. Toean Mat-
to us as a new story which had seen publica- jan, by Vennette Herron, rates second in my
tion in England only. We
did not know list. love stories like this. May we have
I
that it had been printed in Canada. Like some more, if you please? I am collecting

many other publications, Weird Tales oc- all of those illustration passages from poetry
casionally buys outstanding stories that have so that I can frame them. Couldn't you
already been printed in the British Isles, but make them in color? I think I have asked
we do not knowingly use stories that have too many questions already. Good luck, WT,
been published in North America. The and may the sun never set on your splendid
Editor.] magazine.”
Brickbats A Posing Tiger
J.
Vernon Shea, Jr., writes from Pitts-
Michael Liene writes from Hazleton,
burgh: "I wish Seabury Quinn hadn’t writ-
Pennsylvania: " Toean Matjan, by Vennette
ten Roads, for that tale for children has no
Herron, was a strange little tale, beautifully
place in WT. It made me squirm. Of the
written. The tiger in the illustration looks
stories in the January issue, I prefer Toean
suspiciously like the one used to advertise
Matjan, a beautifully written version of a
Listerine mouth wash,
or some such. Or did
familiar theme. Miss Herron is a highly
this tiger takeup posing for advertisements,
promising newcomer. Edmond Hamilton in the spare time he had, aside from jealous-
had a novel idea in The House of Living
ly guarding our heroine of the story? Were
Music, but ruined it by his formula hand-
ic not for Quinn’s beautifully told story.
ling. The Witch’s Mark marks considerable
Roads, I would have given Toean Matjan
of an advancement for Dorothy Quick, but
I for one am pretty fed-up with witch-
first place in the January issue the story, I —
mean, not the tiger. Gans T. Field’s
. . .

women, especially when they go through

The Hairy Ones Shall Dance serial has start-
their all-too-familiar routines. I wish you
ed out quite thrillingly. It leaves the reader
would caution your authors against topical all prepared for startling events, which will
subjects as applied to weird tales. They have
either make or ruin the story. But if the
not the immediacy die authors imagine them
first installment is any indication of shud-
to have, but intrude unpleasantly in a non-
ders, I just took my racoon coat out of
realistic field. Thus, the attempted lynching
storage.”
in The Hairy Ones Shall Dance, which
seems to be taken from the motion picture Pie Wants a Sequel
Fury, seemed wildly incongruous in WT. Alvin V. Pershing writes from Anderson,
Don’t misunderstand me: I am very fond of Indiana: "Would it be proper to ask for a
realism in a realistic story, but hardly con- sequel to The Sea-Witch? That story was a
sider much realism fitting for WT.” tremendous knock-out, amazing and weird.
It was one of the best stories I have ever
A New Reader read. Virgil’s black-and-white frontispiece
Margaret H. Gray writes from Steuben- was a real addition to the magazine.”
ville, Ohio: "Greetings from a compara-
tively new member of your circle of Weird
Quinn and Howard
Tales readers. I have been reading your J.
Mackay Tait writes from Bridgetown,
 WEIRD TALES 3S3

Nova Scotia: "In my humble opinion, the

most thoroughly enjoyable stories that ap-
pear in WT
are those by such writers as
NEXT MONTH
Seabury Quinn and Robert E. Howard (how
I miss that boy!), in which there is a little
humanity, a little humor, a little happiness.
The Eyes of the
Poe’s works are abnormal, the product (ad-
mittedly so) of a diseased mind.
aren’t true to life.
They
They are literary lunacy,
Mummy
analogous in art to the works of Dali, or in
sculpture to those of Epstein. There is never
By Robert Bloch
any situation, no matter how desperate, in
which all hope and humor are entirely ab- tIhat young writing marvel, Robert
sent. I served four years with the Canadian Bloch, has never written a
infantry during the war and although . . .

we lived in terror a great deal of the time

stranger or more thrilling story than
particularly I — I never once found myself in this. It is a story of Egypt, a gripping
a position where it was all fear and horror.
tale of flaming weird jewels in the
In this month’s WT there is a story by
Nictzin Dyalhis, The Sea-Witch, that I be- eye-sockets of a withered mummy, an
lieve tobe one of the best ever to appear in eery narrative that will hold your
our magazine. And my opinion is not in-
fluenced by the really splendid cover design breathless interest to the end.

by Virgil Finlay — a vast improvement over

some of the misproportioned females who
have displayed their impossible charms on TIhis story rises to a climax so un*
covers of the past, even if the girl has mis- -*•
usual, so weird and fascinating as
placed her navel. The story deals with the
to make it unique in literature. This
occult, it has horror, it has suspense; but it
also has love, tenderness, humor (not funni- unforgettable tale will be published
ness), and a delightfully unexpected happy complete
ending. . . . Another criticism (I might as
well be hung for a sheep as a lamb) I have
in the April issue of
to make of a great many of your stories, al-
though not only of the Poe style, is directed
at the obviously labored attempts at main- WEIRD TALES
taining an atmosphere of gloom and im-
pending evil throughout the narrative. Why on sale March 1st
should this be necessary? Because a man
walking along a lonely country road in a To avoid missing your copy, clip and mail this

rainstorm is to encounter, half a mile far- coupon today jot SPECIAL SUBSCRIPTION
ther on, a grisly werewolf
I can see, for the limbs of the trees to ap-
pear like skeleton arms reaching out for him,
is no reason, that OFFER. (You Save 25c) 1^
^
WEIRD TALES
or for die raindrops to fall with the sound
840 N. Michigan Ave.
of hissing snakes bent upon his destruction, Chicago, 111.
or for the wind to howl at him with the Enclosed find $1.00, for which send me the next
voices of a thousand haunted spirits. Unless five Issues of WEIRD TALES, to begin with the

he is mentally abnormal, neurotic or a con- April issue. (Special offer void unless remittance
Is accompanied by coupon.)
firmed and industrious disciple of Bacchus,
a country road would be a country road and
Name
nothing more. It may be the tradition to
write weird stories in that way, but it is il-
Address
logical nevertheless. Horror rarely sets the
stage before descending upon us. I wish it
City State
did! When it strikes, it strikes suddenly,
384 WEIRD TALES
without' warning. From happiness we are a Lovecraft as often as possible, and ditto
switched to misery and back again almost the early Robert E. Howards. These men
without knowing how it all happened. The were the best weird writers their work ;

trouble with striving constantly for this kind should appear often. That will be their best
of atmosphere is that it defeats ics own pur- memorial.”
pose. You are plunged into gloom with the
Harold F. Keating writes from Quincy,
story’s first paragraph and are mentally pre-
Massachusetts : "The Black Stone Statue by
pared for anything that may happen. When
Mary Counselman is gorgeous. Most of her
I bought a volume of Poe’s works some years
stories are excellent; but this was the best
ago, I naturally waded through those deal-
yet.”
ing in horror first. 'Waded’ is the mot juste.
By the time I had read three of them, I was Howard Brenton MacDonald writes from
so saturated with their atmosphere that they Yonkers, New York: "The Sea-Witch was
had lost all value as shockers. I have never an exceptionally fine story. I am glad to see
finished the volume and I never will. (This some author making use of the vast treasury
is sacrilege but I can’t help it.) People are of Norse mythology. Let’s have more.”
constantly borrowing my books —
sometimes H. W. Marian writes from Union City,
they return them —
but I have never had any Tennessee: "In the December number Vir-
one of them borrow the volume of Poe al- gil Finlay is superb. Words fail me, and I
though it still retains its attractive red -and can only attempt to express my appreciation
black cover. I don’t believe people like that for this new feature. These first two I have
kind of literature. They like horror, mys- already framed and they occupy a position
tery, even cruelty; but they like it dished up of honor in my room.”
palatably. You can consign this to the edi-
torial waste-basket if you like, but it is my
Andrew Galet writes from New York
City: "I now have a double incentive for
sincere conviction that more stories of the
Seabury Quinn type would sell more copies
buying WT, but, please have Virgil Finlay's
full-page drawing inside the back cover of
of WT.”
your magazine. Not only will his illustra-
Concise Comments tions be more fully appreciated but one could
always tear the cover off and have the draw-
T. O. Mabbott writes from New York
ings framed.”
City: "My votes this month are for Roads,
which has the truth of a legend about it, Orin S. McFarland writes from Washing-
though curiously enough for Seabury Quinn, ton, D. G: 'Tve read your magazine for the
it struck me as deserving a cut or two to
last six years and know there is nothing like
make the thing a little more compact; sec- it. Keep up the good work. There are a
—
ond: Valley of Bones simple and wholly few stories that don’t quite click, but so
good ones outshine, by
few
any
credible while being read, and, third, T oean chat all the far,

Matjan, where I wished for a stronger sug- defect that your magazine may otherwise
gestion the tiger was sometimes a man, too.” possess.”

James Whiting Saunders writes from Alex- Flo M. Post writes from Guthrie, Okla-
andria, Virginia: "In the January issue the homa: "Tales of robots with human minds
best story is Ethan Brand. It is an almost are just gibberish —
and not weird gibberish
timeless allegory, of course. Thank you for either —whether they inhabit Mars, Venus,
printing an American classic” the Moon, or an Atlantis.”
Paul L. McCIeave writes from St. Peters-
burg, Florida: " The Sea-Witch was truly The Most Popular Story
the 'tops’ in the December Weird Tales.
it will help us to keep this maga-
Readers,
Nictzin Dyalhis (how’d he ever get that
zine just as you like it to be,, if you will let
name, anyway?) must have a thorough
us know whichstories you like best, and also
knowledge of the old Norse mythology.” which ones you dislike. In the January issue,
Seymour Kapetansky writes from Detroit: as shown by your votes and letters, Seabury
"Lo veer aft’s Hypnos is one of tire late mas- Quinn’s strange tale about Santa Claus eas-
ter’s obscure- weird pieces. A
grand fictional ilywon first place. Vennette Herron’s story
yarn. I think that the reprint should contain about the were-tiger came next
W. T.—
COMING NEXT MONTH
4T THE core of the strange garden, where a circular space was still vacant amid the
/% crowding growths, Adompha came to a mound of loamy, fresh-dug earth. Beside
J. m. wholly nude, and pale and supine as if in death, there lay the odalisque Thulo-
it,

neah. her, various knives and other implements, together with vials of liquid balsams
Near
and viscid gums
that Dwerulas used in his grafting, had been emptied upon the ground from
a leathern bag. A plant known as the declaim, with a bulbous, pulpy, whitish-green bole
from whose center rose and radiated several leafless reptilian boughs, dripped upon Thulo-
neah's bosom an occasional drop of yellowish-red ichor from incisions made in its smooth
bark.
Behind the loamy mound, Dwerulas rose to view with the suddenness of a demon
emerging from his subterrene lair. In his hands he held the spade with which he had just
finished digging a deep and grave-like hole. Beside the regal stature and girth of Adompha,
he seemed no more than a wizened dwarf. His aspect bore all the marks of immense age, as
if dusty centuries had sered his flesh and sucked the blood from his veins. His eyes glowed

in the bottom of pit-like orbits; his features were black and sunken as those of a long-dead
corpse; his body was gnarled as some millennial desert cedar. He stooped incessantly, so
that his lank, knotty arms hung almost to the ground. Adompha marveled at the strength
of those arms; marveled that Dwerulas could have wielded the heavy shovel so expeditious-
ly, could have carried to the garden on his back the burden of those victims whose members

he had utilized in his experiments. The king had never demeaned himself to assist at such
labors but, after indicating from time to time the people whose disappearance would in no
;

wise displease him, had done nothing more than watdi and supervise die baroque gardening.
"Is she dead?” Adompha questioned, eyeing the luxurious limbs and body of Thuloneah
wichout emotion.
"Nay.” said Dwerulas. in a voice harsh as a rusty coffin-hinge, "but I have administered
to her the drowsy and overpowering juice-cf the dedaim. Her heart beats impalpably, her
blood flows with the sluggishness of that mingled ichor. She will not reawaken save . . .

as a part of the garden Is life, sharing its obscure sentience. I wait now your further in-
structions. What portion or portions?”
. . .

"Her hands were very deft,” said Adompha, as if musing aloud, in reply to the half-
uttered question. "They knew the subtle ways of love and were learned in all amorous arts.
I would nave you preserve her hands but nothing else.”
. . . . . .

A strange story indeed is this, written in the magic words of one of the greatest living
masters of weird fiction. What happened to Thuloneah when her arms were grafted to the
dedaim tree makes a fascinating ana unusual weird story of immense interest and power.
It will be printed complete in the April issue of Weird Tales:

THE GARDEN OF ADOMPHA

By Clark Ashton Smith
Also
THE TEMPLE DANCER
By Seabury Quinn
An unusual story aboss a white girl in a Hindoo temple
and the loving arms of the gracious lady that protected her
on the night when she was to become the Bride of Siva.
THE EYES OF THE MUMMY FOREST OF EVIL
By Robert Bloch By John Murray Reynolds
A fascinating story of flashing jewels and an old A story of —
many thrills a tale of weird adven-
Egyptian tomb —
a story with a strange and terrible tures and dire perils in the Dead Forest of
climax. Sanaala.

THE DEVIL DEALS

By Carl Jacobi
An odd and curious story is this, about a fatal game of
cards, played with a most peculiar deck containing neither
spades, hearts, diamonds nor clubs.

April Issue WEIRD TALES Out March 1

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|

AN ADVENTURE IN THE FOURTH I City State