 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Hidden Beast by JD Bearsford His house is the last in the village. Towards the forest, the houses become more and more scattered, reaching out to the wild of the wood, as if they yearn to separate themselves from the swarm that clusters about the church in the inn. And his house has taken so long a stride from the others that it is held to the village by no more than the slender thread of the long footpath. Yet the house is set with its face towards us, and has an air of resolutely holding on to the safety of our common life. As if dismayed at its boldness in swimming so far, it had turned and desperately grasped the lifeline of that footpath. He lived alone, a strange man, surly and reticent. Some said he had a sinister look, and on those rare occasions when he joined us at the inn, after sunset, he'd sat aside and spoke little. I was surprised when, as we came out of the inn one night, he took my arm and asked me if I would go home with him. The moon was at the full, and the black shadows of the dispersing crowd that lunged down the street seemed to gesticulate an alarm of weird dismay. The village was momentarily mad with the clatter of footsteps and the noise of laughter, and somewhere down towards the forest a dog was baying. I wondered if I had not misunderstood him. As he watched my hesitation, his face pleaded with me. There are times when a man is glad of company, he said. We spoke little as we passed through the village toward the silences of his lonely host, but when we came to the footpath he stopped and looked back. I lived between two worlds, he said. The wild and—he paused before he rejected the obvious antithesis, and concluded—the restrained. Are we so restrained, I asked, staring at the huddle of black and silver houses clinging to the refuge on the hill. He murmured something about a—compact, and my thoughts turned to the symbol of the chalk-white church tower that dominated the honeycomb of the village. The compact of public opinion, he said more boldly. My imagination lagged. I was thinking less of him than of the transfiguration of the familiar scene before me. I did not remember effort of studying it thus under the reflections of a full moon. An echo of his word, differently accented, drifted through my mind. I saw our life as being in truth compact, little and limited. He took up his theme again when we had entered the house and were facing each other across the table, in a room that looked out over the forest. The shutters were unfastened, the window open, and I could see how, on the further shore of the wastelands, the light feebly ebbed and died against the black cliff of the wood. We have to choose between freedom and safety, he said. The individual is too wild and dangerous for the common life. He must make his agreement with the community, submit to become a member of the people's body. But I, he paused and laughed. I have taken the liberty of looking out of the back window. While he spoke I had been aware of a sound that seemed to come from below the floor of the room in which we were sitting. And when he laughed, I fancied that I had heard the response of a snuffling cry. He looked at me mockingly across the table. It's an echo from the jungle, he said, some trick of reflected sound I can always hear in this room at night. I shivered and stood up. I prefer the safety of our common life, I told him. It may be that I have a limited mind and I'm afraid, but I find my happiness in the joys of security and shelter. The wild terrifies me. A limited mind, he commented. Probably it is rather that you lack a fire in the blood. I was glad to leave him, and he, on his part, made no effort to detain me. It was not long after this visit of mine that the people first began to whisper about him in the village. At the beginning they brought no charge against him, talking only of his strangeness and of his separation from our common interests. But presently I heard a story of some fierce wild animal that he caged and tortured in the prison of his house. One said that he had heard it screaming in the night, and another that he had heard it beating against the door. And some argued that it was a threat to our safety since the beast might escape and make its way into the village. And some that such brutality, even though it were to a wild animal, could not be tolerated. But I wondered inwardly whether the affair were any business of ours so long as he kept the beast to himself. I was a member of the council that year, and so took part in the voting when presently the case was laid before us. But no vote of mine would have helped him if I had dared to overcome my reluctance in speaking his favor. For whatever reservations may have been secretly withheld by the members of the council, they were unanimous in condemning him. We went, six of us, in full daylight to search his house. He received us with a laugh and told us that we might seek it our leisure. But though we sought high and low, peering and tapping, we found no evidence that any wild thing had ever been concealed there. And within a month of the day of our search he left the village. I saw him alone once before he went, and he told me that he had chosen for the wild and freedom, that he could no longer endure to be held to the village even by the threat of the footpath. But he did not thank me for having allowed the search of his house to be conducted by daylight. Although he knew that I at least was sure no echo of the forest could be heard in that little room of his, save in the transfigured hours between the dusk and the dawn. End of The Hidden Beast by J. D. Bearsford An Old Woman's Tale by Nathaniel Hawthorne This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org An Old Woman's Tale by Nathaniel Hawthorne In the house where I was born there used to be an old woman crouching all day long over the kitchen fire with her elbows on her knees and her feet in the ashes. Once in a while she took a turn at the spit and she never lacked a coarse gray stalking in her lap. The foot about half finished. It tapered away with her own waning life. And she knit the toe stitch on the day of her death. She made it her serious business and sole amusement to tell me stories at any time from morning till night in a mumbling toothless voice as I sat on a log of wood grasping her cheek apron with both my hands. Her personal memory included the better part of a hundred years and she had strangely jumbled her own experience and observation with those of many old people who died in her young days so that she might have been taken for a contemporary of Queen Elizabeth or of John Rogers in the primer. There are a thousand of her traditions lurking in the corners and by places of my mind some more marvelous than what is to follow some less so and a few not marvelous in the least all of which I should like to repeat if I were as happy as she in having a listener but I am humble enough to own that I do not deserve a listener half so well as that old toothless woman whose narratives possessed an excellence attributable neither to herself nor to any single individual. Her ground plots seldom within the widest scope of probability were filled up with homely and natural incidents the gradual accretions of a long course of years fiction hid its grotesque extravagance in this garb of truth like the devil, an appropriate simile for the old woman supplies it disguising himself, cloven foot and all, in mortal attire. These tales generally referred to her birthplace, a village in the valley of the Connecticut the aspect of which she impressed with great vividness on my fancy the houses in that tract of country, long a wild and dangerous frontier were rendered defensible by a strength of architecture that has preserved many of them till our own times and I cannot describe the sort of pleasure with which, to some or since, I rode through the little town in question while one object after another rose familiarly to my eye like successive portions of a dream becoming realized among other things equally probable she was wont to assert that all the inhabitants of this village at certain intervals but whether of twenty-five or fifty years or whole century remained a disputable point were subject to a simultaneous slumber continuing one hour's space when that mysterious time arrived the parson snored over his half-written sermon though it were Saturday night and no provision made for the morrow the mother's eyelids closed as she bent over her infant and no childish cry awakened the watcher at the bed of mortal sickness slumbered upon the death-fellow and the dying man anticipated his sleep of ages by one as deep and dreamless to speak emphatically there is a somporific influence throughout the village stronger than if every mother's son and daughter were reading a dull story notwithstanding which the old woman professed to hold the substance of the ensuing account from one of those principally concerned in it one moonlight summer evening a young man and a girl sat down together in the open air they were distant relatives sprung from a stock once wealthy but of late years so poverty-stricken that David had not a penny to pay the marriage fee if Esther should consent to wed the seat they had chosen was in an open grove of elm and walnut trees at a right angle of the road a spring of diamond water just bubbled into the moonlight beside them then whimpered away through the bushes and long grass in search of a neighboring mill-stream the nearest house, situate within twenty-five yards of them and the residence of their great-grandfather in his lifetime was a venerable old edifice crowned with many high and narrow peaks all overrun by innumerable creeping plants which hung curling about the roof like a nice young wig on an elderly gentleman's head opposite to this establishment was a tavern with a well and horse trough before it and a low-green bank running along the left side of the door thence the road went onward curving scarce perceptibly through the village divided in the midst by a narrow lane of verdeur bounded on each side by a grassy strip of twice its own breadth the houses had generally an odd look here the moonlight tried to get a glimpse of one a rough old heap of ponderous timber which, ashamed of its dilapidated aspect was hiding behind a great thick tree the lower story of the next had sunk almost underground as if the poor little house was a weary of the world and retiring into the seclusion of its own cellar farther on stood one of the few recent structures thrusting its painted face conspicuously into the street with an evident idea that it was the fairest thing there about midway in the village was a grist mill partially concealed by the descent of the ground toward the stream which turned its wheel at the southern extremity just so far distant that the window paces dazzled into each other rose the meeting-house a dingy old barn-like building with an enormously disproportioned steeple sticking up straight into heaven as high as the tower of Babel and the cause of nearly as much confusion in its day this steeple it must be understood was an afterthought and its addition to the main edifice when the latter had already begun to decay had excited a vehement quarrel and almost a schism in the church some fifty years before here the road wound down a hill and was seen no more the remotest object in view being the graveyard gate beyond the meeting-house the youthful pair sat hand-in-hand beneath the trees and for several moments they had not spoken because the breeze was hushed the brook scarcely tinkled the leaves had ceased their rustling and everything lay motionless and silent as if nature were composing herself to slumber what a beautiful night it is, Esther remarked David somewhat drowsily very beautiful answered the girl in the same tone but how still continued David ah, too still, said Esther with a faint shutter like a modest leaf when the wind kisses it perhaps they fell asleep together and united as their spirits were by close and tender sympathies the same strange dream might have wrapped them in its shadowy arms but they conceived at the time that they still remained wakeful by the spring of bubbling water looking down through the village and all along the moonlighted road and at the queer old houses and at the trees which thrust their great twisted branches almost into the windows there was only a sort of mistiness over their minds like the smoky air of an early autumn night at length without any vivid astonishment they became conscious that a great many people were either entering the village or already in the street but whether they came from the meeting-house or from a little beyond it or where the devil they came from was more than could be determined certainly a crowd of people seemed to be there men, women and children all of whom were yawning and rubbing their eyes stretching their limbs and staggering from side to side of the road as if but partially awakened from a sound slumber sometimes they stood stock still with their hands over their brows to shade their sight from the moon-beams as they drew near most of their countenances appeared familiar to Esther and David possessing the peculiar features of families in the village and that general air and aspect by which a person would recognize their own townsmen in the remotest ends of the earth but though the whole multitude might have been taken in mass for neighbors and acquaintances there was not a single individual whose exact likeness they had ever seen before it was a noticeable circumstance also that the newest fashion garment on the backs of these people might have been worn by the great grandparents of the existing generation there was one figure behind all the rest and not yet near enough to be perfectly distinguished where on earth David do all these odd people come from? said Esther with a lazy inclination to laugh no where on earth Esther replied David unknowing why he said so as they spoke the strangers showed some symptoms of disquietude and looked towards the fountain for an instant but immediately appeared to assume their own trains of thought and previous purposes they now separated to different parts of the village with a readiness that implied intimate local knowledge and it may be worthy of remark that though they were evidently loquacious among themselves neither their footsteps nor their voices reached the ears of the beholders wherever there was a venerable old house a fifty years standing and upwards surrounded by its elm or walnut trees with its dark and weather-beaten barn its well, its orchard and stone walls all ancient and all in good repair around it there a little group of these people assembled such parties were mostly composed of an aged man and woman with the younger members of a family their faces were full of joy so deep that it assumed the shade of melancholy they pointed to each other the minutest objects about the homesteads, things in their hearts and were now comparing them with the originals but where hollow places by the wayside grass-grown and uneven with unsightly chimneys rising ruinous in the midst gave evidences of a fallen dwelling and of hearths long cold there did a few of the strangers sit them down on the moldering beams and on the yellow moss that had overspread the doorstone the men folded their arms, sad and speechless the women wrung their hands with a more vivid expression of grief and the little children tottered to their knees shrinking away from the open grave of domestic love and wherever a recent edifice reared its white and flashy front on the foundation of an old one there a grey-haired man might be seen to shake his staff in anger at it while his aged dame and their offspring appeared to join in their maldictions forming a fearful picture in a ghostly moonlight while these scenes were passing the one figure in the rear of all the rest was descending the hollow toward the mill and the eyes of David and Esther were drawn thence to a pair with whom they could fully sympathize it was a youth in a sailor's dress and a pale slender maiden together with a sweet embrace in the middle of the street how long it must be since they parted, observed David fifty years at least said Esther they continued to gaze with unwondering calmness and quiet interest as if the dream, if such it were unrolled its quaint and motley semblance before them and their notice was now attracted by several little knots of people who were kindly engaged in conversation of these one of the earliest collected and most characteristic was near the tavern the persons who composed it being seated on the low green bank along the left side of the door a conspicuous figure here was a fine corpulent old fellow in his shirt sleeves and flame-colored breeches and with a stained white apron over his punch beneath which he held his hands at times B wiped his ruddy face the stately decrepitude of one of his companions the scar of an Indian tomahawk on his crown and especially his worn, buff coat were appropriate marks of a veteran belonging to an old provincial garrison now deaf to the roll call another showed his rough face under a tarry hat and wore a pair of wide trousers like an ancient mariner who bad tossed away his youth upon the sea and was returned hoary and weather-beaten to his inland home there was also a thin young man carelessly dressed, whoever and anon cast a sad look toward the pale maiden above mentioned with these there sat a hotter and one or two others and they were soon joined by a miller who came upwards from the dusty mail his coat as white as if be sprinkled with powdered starlight all of these, by the aid of jests which might indeed be old but had not been recently repeated waxed very merry and it was rather strange that just as their sides shook with the heartiest laughter they appeared greatly like a group of shadows flickering in the moonshine four personages very different from these stood in front of a large house with its periwig of creeping plants one was a little elderly figure distinguished by the gold on his three-cornered hat and sky-blue coat and by the seal of arms and necks to his great gold watch chain his air and aspect befitted a justice of peace and county major and all earth's pride and pomposity were squeezed into this small gentleman of five feet high the next in importance was a grave person of sixty or seventy years whose black suit and hand sufficiently indicated his character and the polished baldness of whose head was worthy of a famous preacher in the village half a century before who had made wigs a subject of pulpit denunciation the two other figures both clad in dark gray showed the sobriety of deacons one was ridiculously tall and thin like a man of ordinary bulk infinitely produced as the mathematicians say while the brevity and thickness of his colleague seemed a compression of the same man these four talked with great earnestness and their gestures intimated that they had revived the ancient dispute about the meeting-house steeple the grave person in black spoke with composed solemnity as if he were addressing a synod and the short deacon grunted out occasional sentences as brief as himself his tall brother drew the long thread of his argument through the whole discussion and reasoning from analogy his voice must indubitably have been small and squeaking but the little old man in gold lace was evidently scorched by his own red-hot eloquence he bounced from one to another shook his cane at the steeple at the two deacons and almost in the parson's face stamping with his foot fiercely enough to break a hole through the very earth though indeed it could not exactly be said that the green grass bent beneath him the figure, noticed as coming behind all the rest had now surmounted the ascent from the mill and proved to be an elderly lady with something in her hand why does she walk so slow, asked David don't you see she is lame, said Esther this gentle woman, whose infirmity had kept her so far in the rear of the crowd now came hobbling on glided unobserved by the polemic group and paused on the left brink of the fountain within a few feet of the two spectators she was a magnificent old dame as ever mortal eye beheld her spangled shoes and gold clock stockings shone gloriously within the spacious circle of a red hoop petticoat which swelled to the very point of explosion and was bedecked all over with embroidery a little tarnished above the petticoat and parting in front so as to display it to the best advantage was a figured blue demask gown a wide and stiff ruff and circled her neck a cap of the finest muslin, though rather dingy covered her head and her nose was bestridden by a pair of gold bowed spectacles with enormous glasses but the old lady's face was pinched sharp and sallow wearing a niggardly and avaricious expression and forming an odd contrast to the splendor of her attire as did likewise the implement which she held in her hand it was a sort of iron shovel by housewives termed a slice such as is used in clearing the oven and with this selecting a spot between a walnut tree and the fountain the good dame made an earnest attempt to dig the tender sods however possessed a strange impenetrability they resisted her efforts like a query of living granite and losing her breath she cast down the shovel and seemed to be moan herself most piteously gnashing her teeth, what few she had and ringing her thin yellow hands then apparently with new hope she resumed her toil which still had the same result a circumstance the less surprising to David and Esther because at times they would catch the moonlight shining through the old woman and dancing in the fountain beyond the little man in gold lace now happened to see her and made his approach on tiptoe how hard this elderly lady works remarked David go and help her David said Esther compassionately as their drowsy void spoke both the old woman and the pompous little figure behind her lifted their eyes and for a moment they regarded the youth and damsel with something like kindness and affection which however were dim and uncertain and passed away almost immediately the old woman again betook herself to the shovel but was startled by a hand suddenly laid upon her shoulder she turned round in great trepidation and beheld the dignitary in the blue coat then followed an embrace of such closeness as would indicate no remotor connection than matrimony between these two decorous persons the gentleman next pointed to the shovel appearing to inquire the purpose of his lady's occupation while she as evidently parried his interrogatories maintaining a demure and sanctified visage as every good woman ought in similar cases how be it she could not forbear looking askew behind her spectacles toward the spot of stubborn turf all the while their figures had a strangeness in them and it seemed as if some cunning jeweler had made their golden ornaments of the yellowest of the setting sunbeams and that the blue of their garments was brought from the dark sky near the moon and that the gentleman's silk waistcoat was the bright side of a fiery cloud and the woman's scarlet petticoat are remnant of the blush of mourning and that they both were two unrealities of colored air but now there was a sudden movement throughout the multitude the squire drew forth a watch as large as the dial on the famous steeple looked at the warning hands and got him gone nor could his lady tarry the party at the tavern door took to their heels headed by the fat man in the flaming britches the tall deacons stalked away immediately and the short deacon waddled after making four steps to the yard the mothers called their children about them and set forth with a gentle and sad glance behind like cloudy fantasies that hurried by a viewless impulse from the sky they all were fled and the wind rose up and followed them with a strange moaning down the lonely street now whether these people went is more than may be told only David and Esther seemed to see the shadowy splendor of the ancient dame as she lingered in the moonshine at the graveyard gate gazing backward to the fountain oh Esther I have had such a dream cried David starting up rubbing his eyes and I such another answered Esther gaping till her pretty red lips formed a circle about an old woman with gold bowed spectacles continued David and a scarlet hoopedicoat added Esther they now stared in each other's eyes with great astonishment and some little fear after a thoughtful moment or two David drew a long breath and stood upright if I live till tomorrow morning said he I'll see what may be buried between that tree and the spring of water and why not tonight David asked Esther for she was a sensible little girl and befought herself that the matter might as well be done in secrecy David felt the propriety of the remark and looked round for the means of it following her advice the moon shone brightly on something that rested against the side of the old house and on nearer view it proved to be an iron shovel bearing a singular resemblance to that which they had seen in their dreams he used it with better success than the old woman the soil giving way so freely to his efforts that he had soon scooped a hole as large as the basin of the spring suddenly he poked his head down into the very bottom of this cavity oh what have we here cried David end of an old woman's tale this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information and to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org this is the Oval Portrait by Edgar Allan Poe the Chateau in which my valet had ventured to make forcible entrance rather than permit me in my desperately wounded condition to pass a night in the open air was one of those piles of commingled gloom and grandeur which have so long frowned among the Apennines not less in fact than in the fancy of Mrs Radcliffe to all appearance it had been temporarily and very lately abandoned we established ourselves in one of the smallest and least sumptuously furnished apartments it lay in a remote turret of the building its decorations were rich yet tattered and antique its walls were hung with tapestry and bedecked with manifold and multi-form amoral trophies together with an unusually great number of very spirited modern paintings in frames of rich golden arabesque in these paintings which depended from the walls not only in their main surfaces but in very many nooks which the bizarre architecture of the Chateau rendered necessary and these paintings my insipid delirium perhaps had caused me to take deep interest so that I bade painter to close the heavy shutters of the room since it was already night to light the tongues of a tall Kindelabrum which stood by the head of my bed and to throw open far and wide the fringed curtains of black velvet which enveloped the bed itself I wished all this done that I might resign myself if not to sleep at least alternately to the contemplation of these pictures and the perusal of a small volume which had been found upon the pillow and which purported to criticize and describe them long long I read and devoutly devotedly I gazed rapidly and gloriously the hours flew by and the deep midnight came the position of the Kindelabrum displeased me and at reaching my hand with difficulty rather than to stir my slumbering valet I placed it so as to throw its rays more fully upon the book but the action produced in effect altogether unanticipated the rays of the numerous candles, for there were many, now fell within a niche of the room which had hitherto been thrown into deep shade by one of the bed posts I thus saw in vivid light a picture all unnoticed before it was the portrait of a young girl just ripening into womanhood I glanced at the painting hurriedly and then closed my eyes why I did this was not at first apparent even to my own perception but while my lids remained thus shut I ran over in my mind my reason for so shutting them it was an impulsive movement to gain time for thought to make sure that my vision had not deceived me to calm and subdue my fancy for a more sober and more certain gaze in a very few moments I again looked fixedly at the painting then I now saw alright I could not, I would not doubt for the first flashing of the candles upon that canvas had seemed to dissipate the dreamy stupor was stealing over my senses and to startle me at once into waking life the portrait I have already said was that of a young girl it was a mirror head and shoulders done in what is technically termed a vignette manner much in the style of the favorite heads of sully the arms, the bosom and even the hands of the radiant hair melted imperceptibly into the vague yet deep shadow which formed the background of the whole the frame was oval, richly gilded and infilligrated in maresque as a thing of art nothing could be more admirable than the painting itself but it could have been neither the execution of the work nor the immortal beauty of the countenance which had so suddenly and so vehemently moved me least of all it could have been that my fancy shaken from its half slumber had mistaken the head for that of a living person I saw at once that the peculiarities of the design of the vignetting of the frame must have instantly dispelled such idea must have prevented even its momentary entertainment thinking earnestly upon these points I remained for an hour perhaps, half sitting, half reclining with my vision riveted upon the portrait at length, satisfied with the true secret of its effect I fell back within the bed I found the spell of the picture in an absolute life-likeliness of expression which, at first startling finally confounded, subdued and appalled me with deep and reverent awe I replaced the candelabra in its former position the cause of my deep agitation being thus shut from view I sought eagerly the volume which discussed the paintings and their histories turned to the number which designated the oval portrait I read there the vague and quaint words which follow she was a maiden of rarest beauty and not more lovely than full of glee and evil was the hour when she saw and loved and wedded the painter he, passionate, studious, austere and having already a bride in his art she made it into rarest beauty and not more lovely than full of glee all light and smiles and frox and was the young fawn loving and cherishing of all things hitting only the art which was her rival dreading only the palette and brushes and other untoward instruments which deprived her of the countenance of her lover it was just a terrible thing for this lady to hear the painter speak of his desire to portray even his young bride but she was humble and obedient and sat meekly for many weeks in the dark high turret chamber where the light dripped upon the pale canvas only from overhead but he, the painter, took glory in his work which went on from hour to hour and from day to day and he was a passionate and wild and moody man who became lost in reveries so that he would not see that the light which fell so ghastly in that lone turret withered the health and the spirits of his bride who pined visibly to all but him yet she smiled on and still on because she saw that the painter, who had high renown took a fervent and burning pleasure in his task and wrought day and night to depict her who so loved him yet who grew daily more dispirited and weak and ensued some who beheld the portrait spoke of its resemblance in low words as of a mighty marvel and a proof not less of the power of the painter than of his deep love for her whom he depicted so surpassingly well but at length as the labor drew nearer to its conclusion there were admitted none into the turret for the painter had grown wild with the ardor of his work and turned his eyes from canvas merely even to regard the countenance of his wife and he would not see that the tints which he spread upon the canvas were drawn from the cheeks of her who sat beside him and when many weeks had passed and but little remained to do save one brush upon the mouth and one tint upon the eye the spirit of the lady again flickered up as the flame within the socket of the lamp and then the brush was given and then the tint was placed and for one moment the painter stood entranced before the work which she had wrought but in the next while he yet gazed at the palette and aghast and crying with a loud voice this is indeed life itself turned suddenly to regard his beloved she was dead and of the oval portrait by Edgar Allen Poe Read by Nick Gisburn Well, it was just 20 years ago and within a day or two at the end of the grouse season I had been out all day with my gun and had had no sport to speak of the wind was due east the month December the place a bleak breeze and the wind was blowing and the wind was blowing and the wind was blowing and the wind was blowing and the wind was blowing and the wind was blowing and the wind was blowing and in December the place a bleak wide moor in the far north of England and I had lost my way it was not a pleasant place in which to lose one's way with the first feathery flakes of a coming snowstorm just fluttering down upon the heather and the lead an evening closing in all around I shaded my eyes with my hand and stared anxiously into the gathering darkness where the purple moorland melted into a range of low hills some 10 or 12 miles distant not the faintest smoke wreath not the tiniest cultivated patch or fence or sheep track met my eyes in any direction there was nothing for it but to walk on and take my chance of finding what shelter I could by the way so I shouldered my gun again and pushed weirdly forward for I had been on foot since an hour after daybreak and had eaten nothing since breakfast meanwhile the snow began to come down with ominous steadiness and the wind fell after this the cold became more intense and the night came rapidly up as for me my prospects darkened with the darkening sky and my heart grew heavy as I thought how my young wife was already watching for me through the window of our little inn parlor and thought of all the suffering in store for her throughout this weary night we had been married four months and having spent out autumn in the highlands were now lodging in a remote little village situated just on the verge of the great English moorlands we were very much in love and of course very happy this morning when we parted she had implored me to return before dusk and I had promised her that I would what would I not have given to have kept my word even now, weary as I was I felt that with a supper and hours rest and a guide I might still get back to her before midnight if only guiding shelter could be found and all this time the snow fell and the night thickened I stopped and shouted every now and then but my shout seemed only to make the silence deeper then a vague sense of uneasiness came upon me and I began to remember stories of travellers who had walked on and on in the falling snow until weary doubt they were feigned to lie down and sleep their lives away would it be possible I asked myself to keep on thus through all the long dark night would there not come a time when my limbs must fail and my resolution give way when I too must sleep the sleep of death death I shouldered how hard to die just now when life lay also bright before me how hard for my darling whose whole loving heart but that thought was not to be born to banish it I shouted again louder and longer and then listened eagerly was my shout answered or did I only fancy that I heard a far off cry I hallowed again and again the echo followed then a wavering speck of light came suddenly out of the dark shifting, disappearing growing momentarily nearer and brighter running towards it at full speed I found myself to my great joy face to face with an old man and a lantern thank God was the exclamation that burst involuntarily for my lips blinking and frowning he lifted his lantern and peered into my face or growled he sulkily well, for you I began to fear I should be lost in the snow ay then folks do get cast away hereabouts from time to time and what's to indy if I'm being cast away light wise if Lord saw minded if the Lord is so minded that you and I shall be lost together my friend we must submit I replied but I don't mean to be lost without you how far am I now from doulding a good twenty mile more or less and the nearest village the nearest village is Wike and that's twelve miles to the side where do you live then out yonder said he with a vague jerk of the lantern you're going home I presume maybe I am then I'm going with you the old man shook his head and rubbed his nose reflectedly with the handle of the lantern I ain't no use growled he we won't let you in, not a rat I replied briskly who is he the master who is the master that's not to you was the unceremonious reply well well you lead the way and I'll engage that the master shall give me shelter in a supper tonight you can try him much of my reluctant guide and still shaking his head he hobbled gnome-like away through the falling snow a large mast loomed up presently out of the darkness the dog rushed out barking furiously is this the house? I asked aye it's the house down boy he fumbled in his pocket for the key I drew up close behind him prepared to lose no chance of entrance and saw in the little circle of light shed by the lantern that the door was heavily studded with iron nails like the door of a prison in another minute he had turned the key and I had pushed past him into the house once inside I looked round with curiosity and found myself in a great rafted hole which served apparently a variety of uses one end was piled to the roof with corn like a barn the other was studded with flower sacks agricultural implements, casks and all kinds of miscellaneous lumber while from the beams overhead hung rows of hams, flitches and bunches of dried herbs for winter use in the centre of the floss stood some huge object gauntly dressed in a dingy wrapping cloth moving half way to the rafters lifting a corner of this cloth I saw to my surprise a telescope of very considerable size mounted on a rude movable platform with four small wheels the tube was made of painted wood bound round with bands of metal rudely fashioned the speculum, so far as I could estimate its size in the dim light measured at least 15 inches in diameter while I was yet examining the instrument and asking myself whether it was not the work of some self-taught optician a bell rang sharply that's for you, said my guide with a malicious grin, yonder's his room he pointed to a low black door at the opposite side of the hall I crossed over wrapped somewhat loudly and went in without waiting for an invitation a huge white-haired old man rose from a table covered with books and papers and confronted me sternly who are you, said he how came you here what do you want James Murray, barrister at low on foot across the moor meat, drink and sleep he bent his bushy brows into a potentous frown mine is not a house of entertainment he said, hortily Jacob, how dare you admit this stranger I didn't admit him grumble the old man he followed me over the moor and shouldered his way in before me I'm no match for six foot two and pray, sir, by what right have you forced an entrance into my house the same by which I should have clung to your boat if I were drowning the right of self-preservation self-preservation there's an inch of snow on the ground already I replied briefly and it would be deep enough to cover my body before daybreak he strode to the window pulled aside a heavy black curtain and looked out it is true, he said you can stay if you choose good morning Jacob, serve the supper with this he waved me to a seat resumed his own and became at once absorbed in the studies from which I had disturbed him I placed my gun in a corner drew a chair to the hearth and examined my quarters at leisure smaller and less incongruous in its arrangements than the whole this room contained nevertheless much to awaken my curiosity the floor was carpetless but scrolled over with strange diagrams and in others covered with shelves crowded with philosophical instruments the uses of many of which were unknown to me on one side of the fireplace stood a bookcase filled with dingy folios on the other a small organ fantastically decorated with painted carvings of medieval saints and devils through the half-open door of a cupboard at the further end of the room I saw a long array of geological specimens surgical preparations with different legibles, retorts and jars of chemicals while on the mantel shelf beside me amid a number of small objects stood a model of the solar system a small galvanic battery and a microscope every chair had its burden every corner was heaped high with books the very floor was littered over with maps, casts papers, tracings and learned lumber of all conceivable kinds I stared about me with an amazement increased by every fresh object upon which my eyes chanced to rest so strange a room I had never seen yet seemed it strange as still to find such a room in a lone farmhouse amid those wild and solitary mowers over and over again I looked from my host to his surroundings and from his surroundings back to my host asking myself who and what he could be his head was singularly fine but it was more the head of a poet than of a philosopher broad in the temples prominent over the eyes and clothed with the rough profusion of perfectly white hair it had all the ideality and much of the ruggedness that characterised the head of Louis von Beethoven there were the same deep lines about the mouth and the same stern furrows in the brow there was the same concentration of expression while I was yet observing him the door opened and Jacob brought in the supper and Esther then closed his book rose and with more courtesy of manner than he had yet shown invited me to the table a dish of ham and eggs a loaf of brown bread and a bottle of admirable sherry were placed before me I have but the homeliest farmhouse fair to offer you sir said my entertainer your appetite I trust will make up for the deficiencies of our larder I had already fallen upon the vines and now protested the enthusiasm of a starving sportsman that I had never eaten anything so delicious he bowed stiffly and sat down to his own supper which consisted primitively of a jug of milk and a basin of porridge we ate in silence and when we had done Jacob removed the tray I then drew my chair back to the fireside my host somewhat to my surprise did the same and turning abruptly towards me said sir I have lived here strict retirement for three and twenty years during that time I have not seen as many strange faces and I have not read a single newspaper you are the first stranger who has crossed my threshold for more than four years will you favour me with a few words of information respecting that outer world from which I have parted company so long pray interrogate me I replied I am heartily at your service he bent his head in acknowledgement leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his chin supported in the palms of his hands stared fixedly into the fire and proceeded to question me his enquiries related chiefly to scientific matters with the later progress of which as applied to the practical purposes of life he was almost wholly unacquainted no student of science myself I replied as well as my slight information permitted but the task was far from easy and I was much relieved when passing from interrogation to discussion he began pouring forth his own conclusions upon the facts which I had been attempting to place before him he talked on a listened spellbound he talked till I believe he almost forgot my presence and only thought aloud I have never heard anything like it then I have never heard anything like it since familiar with all systems of all philosophies subtle in analysis bold in generalisation he poured forth his thoughts in an uninterrupted stream and still leaning forward in the same moody attitude with his eyes fixed upon the fire wandered from topic to topic from speculation to speculation like an inspired dreamer from practical science to mental philosophy from electricity in the wire to electricity in the nerve from Watts to Mesmer from Mesmer to Rackenback from Rackenback to Swedenborg Spinoza, Condilac, Dekor Berkeley, Aristotle, Plato and the Magi and the Mystics of the East were transitions which however bewildering in their variety and scope seemed easy and harmonious upon his lips as sequences in music by and by I forget now by what link of conjecture or illustration he passed on to that field which lies beyond the boundary line of even conjectural philosophy and reaches no man knows wither he spoke of the soul and its aspirations and its powers of second sight of prophecy of those phenomena which under the names of ghosts spectres and supernatural appearances have been denied by the skeptics and attested by the credulous of all ages the world he said grows hourly more and more skeptical of all that lies beyond its narrow radius and our men of science foster the fatal tendency they condemn as fable all that resists the experiment they reject as false all that cannot be brought to the test of the laboratory or the dissecting room against what superstition have they wedged so long and obstinate a war as against a belief in apparitions and yet what superstition has maintained its hold upon the minds of men so long and so firmly show me any fact in physics in history, in archaeology which is supported by a testimony so wide and so various attested by all races of men and in all climates by the sobrous sages of antiquity by the rudest savage of today by the Christian, the pagan the pantheist, the materialist this phenomenon is treated as a nursery tale by the philosophers of our century circumstantial evidence weighs with them as a feather in the balance the comparison of causes with effects however valuable in physical science is put aside as worthless and unreliable the evidence of competent witnesses however conclusive in a court of justice counts for nothing he who pauses before he pronounces is condemned as a trifler he who believes is a dreamer or a fool he spoke with bitterness and having said thus relapsed for some minutes into silence presently raised his head from his hands and added with an altered voice and manner I, sir, paused investigated believed and was not ashamed to state my convictions to the world I too was branded as a visionary held up to ridicule by my contemporaries and hooted from that field of science in which I had laboured with honour during all the best years of my life these things happened just three and twenty years ago since then I have lived as you see me living now and the world has forgotten me as I have forgotten the world you have my history it is a very sad one I murmured scarcely knowing what to answer it is a very common one he replied I have only suffered for the truth as many a better and wiser man has suffered before me he rose as if desirous of ending the conversation and went over to the window it is ceased knowing he observed as he dropped the curtain and came back to the fireside ceased, I exclaimed starting eagerly to my feet oh if it were only possible but now it is hopeless even if I could find my way across the moor I could not walk twenty miles tonight walk twenty miles tonight repeated my host what are you thinking of of my wife I replied impatiently of my young wife who does not know that I have lost my way and who is at this moment breaking her heart with suspense and terror where is she going twenty miles away at Dwalding he echoed thoughtfully yes the distance it is true is twenty miles but are you so very anxious to save the next six or eight hours so very very anxious that I would give ten guineas at this moment for a guide and a horse your wish can be gratified at a less costly rate said he smiling the night mail from the north which changes horses at Dwalding passes within five miles of this spot a certain crossroad in about an hour and a quarter if Jacob were to go with you across the moor and put you into the old coach road you could find your way I suppose to where it joins the new one easily gladly he smiled again rang the bell gave the old servant his directions and taking a bottle of whiskey and a wine glass from the cupboard in which he kept his chemicals said the snow lies deep and it will be difficult walking tonight on the moor a glass of uskabow before you start I would have declined the spirit but he pressed it on me and I drank it it went down my throat like a liquid flame and almost took my breath away it is strong he said but it will help to keep out the cold and now you have no moments to spare good night I thanked him for his hospitality and would have shaken hands but that he had turned away before I could finish my sentence in another minute I had traversed the hall Jacob had locked the outer door behind me and we were out in the wide white moor although the wind had fallen it was still bitterly cold not a star glimmered in the black vault overhead not a sound saved the rapid crunching of the snow beneath our feet disturbed the heavy stillness of the night Jacob not too well pleased with his mission shambled on before in sullen silence his lantern in his hand and his shadow at his feet I followed with my gun over my shoulder as little inclined for conversation as himself my thoughts were full of my late host his voice yet rang in my ears his eloquence yet held my imagination captive I remember to this day with surprise how my overexcited brain retained whole sentences and parts of sentences troops of brilliant images and fragments of splendid reasoning in the very words in which he had uttered them musing thus over what I had heard and striving to recall a lost link here and there I strode on at the heels of my guide absorbed and unobservant presently, at the end it seemed to me of only a few minutes he came to a sudden halt and said yonzee road, keep the stone fence to your right hand and your couch fell off the way this then is the old coach road aye, it is the old coach road and how far do I go before I reached the crossroads now upon three mile I pulled out my purse and he became more communicative the road's a fair road enough said he for foot passengers but was over steep and narrow for the northern traffic you'd mind where the parapet's broken away close again the signpost there's never been mended since the accident what accident aye, the night mail pitched right over into the valley below a good fifty feet and more just to the worst bit of road in the old county horrible, where many lives lost all four were found dead until the two died next morning how long has it since this happened just nine year near the signpost you say I will bear it in mind good night good night sir and thank ye Jacob pocketed his half crown made a faint pretence of touching his hat and trudged back by the way he had come I watched the light of his lantern till it quite disappeared and then turned to pursue my way alone this was no longer matter of the slightest difficulty for despite the dead darkness overhead the line of stone fence showed distinctly enough against the pale gleam of the snow how silent it seemed now with only my footsteps to listen to how silent and how solitary a strange disagreeable sense of loneliness stole over me I walked faster I hummed a fragment of a tune I took enormous sums in my head and accumulated them at compound interest I did my best in short to forget the startling speculations to which I had but just been listening and to some extent I succeeded meanwhile the night air seemed to become colder and colder and though I walked fast I found it impossible to keep myself warm my feet were like ice I lost sensation in my hands and grasped my gun mechanically I even breathed with difficulty as though instead of traversing a quiet north country highway I was scaling the uppermost heights of some gigantic Alp this last symptom became presently so distressing that I was forced to stop for a few minutes and lean against the stone fence as I did so I chanced to look back up the road and there to my infinite relief I saw a distant point of light like the gleam of an approaching lantern I at first concluded that Jacob had retraced his steps and followed me but even as the conjecture presented itself a second light flashed into sight a light evidently parallel with the first and approaching at the same rate of motion it needed no second thought to show me that these must be the carriage lamps of some private vehicle though it seems strange that any private vehicle should take a road professedly disused and dangerous there could be no doubt however of the fact for the lamps grew larger and brighter every moment and I even fancied I could already see the dark outline of the carriage between them it was coming up very fast and quite noiselessly the snow being nearly a foot deep under the wheels and now the body of the vehicle became distinctly visible behind the lamps it looked strangely lofty a sudden suspicion flashed upon me was it possible that I had passed the crossroads in the dark without observing the signpost and could this be the very coach which I had come to meet no need to ask myself that question a second time for here it came round the bend of the road guard and driver one outside passenger and four steaming greys all wrapped in a soft haze of light through which the lamps blazed out like a pair of fiery meteors I jumped forward, waved my hat and shouted the mail came down at full speed and passed me for a moment I feared that I had not been seen or heard but it was only for a moment the coachman pulled up the guard muffled to the eyes in capes and comforters one asleep in the rumble neither answered my hail nor made the slightest effort to dismount the outside passenger did not even turn his head I opened the door for myself and looked in there were but three travellers inside so I stepped in, shut the door slipped into the vacant corner and congratulated myself on my good fortune the atmosphere of the coach seemed if possible colder than that of the outer air and was pervaded by a singularly damp and disagreeable smell I looked round at my fellow passengers there were all three men and all silent they did not seem to be asleep but each leaned back in his corner of the vehicle as if absorbed in his own reflections I attempted to open a conversation how intensely cold it is tonight I said addressing my opposite neighbour he lifted his head looked at me but made no reply the winter I added seems to have begun in earnest although the corner in which he sat was so dim that I could distinguish none of his features very clearly I saw that his eyes were still turned full upon me and yet he answered never a word at any other time I should have felt and perhaps expressed some annoyance but at the moment I felt too ill to do either the icy coldness of the night air had struck a chill to my very marrow and the strange smell inside the coach was affecting me with an intolerable nausea I shivered from head to foot and, turning to my left hand neighbour asked if he had any objection to an open window he neither spoke nor stirred I repeated the question somewhat more loudly but with the same result then I lost patience and let the sash down as I did so the leather strap broke in my hand and I observed that the glass was covered with a thick coat of mildew the accumulation apparently of years my attention being thus drawn to the condition of the coach I examined it more narrowly and saw by the uncertain light of the outer lamps that it was in the last stage of dilapidation every part of it was not only out of repair but in a condition of decay the sashes splintered at a touch the leather fittings were crusted over with mould and literally rotting from the woodwork the floor was almost breaking away beneath my feet the whole machine in short was foul with damp and had evidently been dragged from some outhouse in which it had been mouldering away for years to do another day or two of duty on the road I turned to the third passenger whom I had not yet addressed and hazarded one more remark this coach I said is in a deplorable condition the regular mail I suppose is under repair he moved his head slowly and looked at me in the face without speaking a word I shall never forget that look while I live I turned cold at heart under it I turned cold at heart even now when I recall it his eyes glowed with a fiery unnatural luster his face was livid as the face of a corpse his bloodless lips were drawn back as if in the agony of death and showed the gleaming teeth between the words that I was about to utter died upon my lips and a strange horror a dreadful horror came upon me my sight had by this time become used to the gloom of the coach and I could see with tolerable distinctness I turned to my opposite neighbour he too was looking at me with the same startling pallor in his face and the same stony glitter in his eyes I passed my hand across my brow I turned to the passenger on the seat beside my own and saw, oh heaven how shall I describe what I saw I saw that he was no living man that none of them were living men like myself a pale phosphorescent light the light of putrefraction played upon their awful faces upon their hair danked with the dues of the grave upon their clothes earth-stained and dropping to pieces upon their hands which were as the hands of corpses long buried only their eyes, their terrible eyes were living and those eyes were all turned menacingly upon me a shriek of terror a wild, unintelligible cry for help and mercy burst from my lips as I flung myself against the door I drove in vain to open it in that single instant brief and vivid as a landscape beheld in the flash of summer lightning I saw the moon shining down through a rift of stormy cloud the ghastly signpost rearing its warning finger by the wayside the broken parapet the plunging horses the black gulf below then the coach reeled like a ship at sea then came a mighty crash a sense of crushing pain and then darkness it seemed as if years had gone by when I awoke one morning from a deep sleep and found my wife watching by my bedside I will pass over the scene that ensued and give you, in half a dozen words the tales she told me with tears of thanksgiving I had fallen over a precipice close against the junction of the old coach road and the new and had only been saved from certain death by lighting up on a deep snowdrift that had accumulated at the foot of the rock beneath in this snowdrift I was discovered at daybreak by a couple of shepherds who carried me to the nearest shelter and brought a surgeon to my aid the surgeon found me in a state of raving delirium with a broken arm and a compound fracture of the skull the letters in my pocketbook showed my name and address my wife was summoned to nurse me and thanks to youth and a fine constitution I came out of danger at last the place of my fall, I need scarcely say was precisely that at which a frightful accident had happened to the North Mail nine years before I never told my wife the fearful events which I have just related to you I told the surgeon who attended me but he treated the whole adventure as a mere dream born of the fever in my brain we discussed the question over and over again until we found that we could discuss it with temper no longer and then we dropped it others may form what conclusions they please I know that twenty years ago I was the fourth inside passenger in that phantom coach end of The Phantom Coach by Amelia B. Edwards Mr. John Vanzitat Smith, FRS of 147A Gower Street was a man whose energy of purpose and clearness of thought might have placed him in the very first rank of scientific observers he was the victim, however, of a universal ambition which prompted him to aim at distinction in many subjects rather than preeminence in one in his early days he'd shown aptitude for zoology and phobotony which caused his friends to look upon him as a second Darwin but when a professorship was almost within his reach he suddenly discontinued his studies and turned his whole attention to chemistry here his researches upon the spectra of metals had won him his fellowship in the Royal Society but again he played the coquette with his subject and after a year's absence from the laboratory he joined the Oriental Society and delivered a paper on the hieroglyphic and demotic inscriptions of Alcub thus giving a crowning example both of the versatility and of the inconsistency of his talents the most fickle of woors, however, is apt to be caught at last and so it was with John Vanzitat Smith the more he borrowed his way into Egyptology the more impressed he became by the vast field which had opened to the inquirer and by the extreme importance of a subject which promised to throw light upon the first germs of human civilisation and the origin of the greater part of our arts and sciences so struck was Mr Smith that he straight away married an Egyptological young lady who had written upon the sixth dynasty and having thus secured a sound base of operations he set himself to collect materials for a work which should unite the research of Lepceus and the ingenuity of Champollion the preparation of his magnum opus entailed many hurried visits to the magnificent Egyptian collections of the Louvre upon the last of which, no longer ago than the middle of last October he became involved in a most strange and noteworthy adventure the trains had been slow and the channel had been rough so that the student arrived in Paris in a somewhat befogged and feverish condition enriching the Hotel de France in the Rue Lafite he had thrown himself upon a sofa for a couple of hours but finding that he was unable to sleep he determined in spite of his fatigue to make his way to the Louvre settle the point which he had come to decide and take the evening train back to Dieppe having come to his conclusion he donned his great coat for it was a raw rainy day and made his way across the Boulevard des Italiens and down the Avenue de l'Opres once in the Louvre he was on familiar ground and he speedily made his way to the collection of the Pyrrhe which it was his intention to consult the warmest admirers of John Vanzett-Artsmith could hardly claim for him that he was a handsome man his high beaked nose and prominent chin had something of the same acute and incisive character which distinguished his intellect he held his head in a bird-like fashion and bird-like too was the pecking motion which in conversation he threw out his objections and retorts as he stood with the high collar of his great coat raised to his ears he might have seen from the reflection in the glass case before him that his appearance was a singular one yet it came upon him as a sudden jar when an English voice behind him exclaimed in very audible tones what a queer-yooking mortal student had a large amount of petty vanity in his composition which manifested itself by an ostentatious and overdone disregard of all personal considerations he straightened his lips and looked rigidly at the roll of papyrus while his heart filled with bitterness against the whole race of travelling Britons yes! said another voice he really is an extraordinary fellow do you know? said the first speaker one could almost believe that by the continual contemplation of mummies the chap had become half a mummy himself he certainly has an Egyptian cast of countenance said the other Dan Zatar Smith spun around upon his heel with the intention of shaming his countrymen by corrosive remark or two to his surprise and relief the two young fellows who had been conversing had their shoulders turned towards him and were gazing at one of the louvre attendants who was polishing some brasswork at the other side of the room Carter will be waiting for us at the Palais Royal said one tourist to the other glancing at his watch he ratted away leaving a student to his labours I wonder what these chatterers call an Egyptian cast of countenance thought John Van Zatar Smith and he moved his position slightly in order to catch a glimpse of the man's face he started as his eyes fell upon it it was indeed the very face with which his studies had made him familiar the regular statuesque features broad brow surrounded chin and dusky complexion were the exact town part of the innumerable statues mummy cases and pictures which adorned the walls of the apartment the thing was beyond all coincidence the man must be an Egyptian the national angularity of the shoulders and narrowness of the hips were alone sufficient to identify him John Van Zatar Smith shuffled towards the attendant with some intention of addressing him he was not light of touch in conversation and found it difficult to strike the happy mean between the brusqueness of the superior and the geniality of the equal as he came nearer the man presented his side face to him but kept his gaze still bent upon his work Van Zatar Smith fixing his eyes upon the fellow's skin was conscious of a sudden impression that there was something inhuman and preternatural about its appearance over the temple and cheekbone it was as glazed and as shiny as varnished parchment there was no suggestion of pause one could not fancy a drop of moisture upon that arid surface from brow to chin however it was cross-hatched by a million delicate wrinkles which shot and interlaced as though nature in some marie mood had tried how wild and intricate a pattern she could devise a ue la collection de Memphis asked the student with the awkward air of a man who was devising a question merely for the purpose of opening a conversation Epsilon replied the man brusquely nodding his head at the other side of the room Was it an Egyptian, n'est-ce pas? asked the Englishman the attendant looked up and turned his strange dark eyes upon his questioner they were vitreous with a mystery dry shininess such as Smith had never seen in a human head before as he gazed into them he saw some strong emotion gather in their depths which rose and deepened until it broke into a look of something akin both to horror and to hatred non monsieur je suis foncé the man turned abruptly and bent low over his polishing the student gazed at him for a moment in astonishment he proceeded to make notes of his researches among the papyri his thoughts, however refused to return into their natural groove they would run upon the enigmatic attendant with a sphinx-like face and the parchment skin where have I seen such eyes? said Vansitat Smith to himself there is something soryan about them something reptilian there is the membranar nictitans of the snakes he mused befinking himself of his zoological studies it gives a shiny effect but there was something more here there was a sense of power of wisdom, so I read them and of weariness utter weariness and ineffable despair it may be all imagination but I never had so strong an impression by Jove I must have another look at them he rose and paced about the Egyptian rooms but the man who had excited his curiosity had disappeared the student sat down again in his quiet corner and continued to work at his notes he had gained the information which he required from the papyri and it only remained to write it down while it was still fresh in his memory for a time his pencil travelled rapidly over the paper but soon the lines became less level the words more blurred and finally the pencil tinkled down upon the floor and the head of the student dropped heavily forward upon his chest tired out by his journey he slept so soundly in his lonely post behind the door that neither the clanking civil guard nor the footsteps of sightseers nor even the loud whore spell which gives the signal for closing was sufficient to arouse him twilight deepened into darkness the bustle from the rude rivally waxed and then waned distant Notre-Dame clanged out the hour of midnight and still the dark and lonely figure sat silently in the shadow it was not until close upon one in the morning that with a sudden gasp and an intaking of breath Fancitart Smith returned to consciousness for a moment it flashed upon him that he had dropped asleep in his study-chair at home the moon was shining fitfully through the unshuttered windows however and as his eye ran along the lines of mummies and the endless array of polished cases he remembered clearly where he was and how he came there the student was not a nervous man he possessed that love of a novel situation which is peculiar to his race stretching out his cramped limbs he looked at his watch and then burst into a chuckle as he observed the hour the episode would make an admirable anecdote to be introduced into his next paper as a relief to the graver and heavier speculations he was a little cold but wide awake and much refreshed it was no wonder that the guardians had overlooked him for the door through its heavy black shadow right across him the complete silence was impressive neither outside nor inside was there a creek or a murmur he was alone with the dead men of a dead civilization what though the how-to city wreaked of the garish 19th century in all this chamber there was scarce an article from the shriveled ear of wheat to the pigment box of the painter which had not held its own against 4,000 years here was the flotsam and jetsam washed up by the great ocean of time from that far-off empire from stately thieves from lordly Luxor from the great temples of Heliopolis from a hundred rifled tombs these relics had been brought the student glanced around at the long silent figures who flickered vaguely up through the gloom at the busy toilers who were now so restful and he fell into a reverent and thoughtful mood an unwanted sense of his own youth and insignificance came over him leaning back in his chair he gazed dreamily down the long vista of rooms all silvery with the moonshine which extend through the whole wing of the widespread building his eyes fell upon the yellow glare of a distant lamp John Fancita Smith set up on his chair with all his nerves on edge the light was advancing slowly towards him pausing from time to time then coming jerkily onwards the bearer moved noiselessly in the utter silence there was no suspicion of the pat of a footfall an idea of robbers entered the Englishman's head he snuggled up farther into the corner the light was two rooms off now it was in the next chamber and still there was no sound with something approaching to a thrill of fear the student observed a face floating in the air as it were behind the flare of the lamp the figure was wrapped in shadow but the light fell full upon a strange eager face there was no mistaking the metallic glistening eyes and the cadaverous skin he was the attendant with whom he had conversed Fancita Smith's first impulse was to come forward and address him a few words of explanation would settle the matter clear and lead doubtless to his being conducted to some side door from which he might wake his way back to his hotel as the man entered the chamber however there was something so stealthy in his movements and so furtive in his expression that the Englishman altered his intention this was clearly no ordinary official walking the rounds the fellow wore felt-sold slippers stepped with a rising chest and glanced quickly from left to right while his hurried gasping breathing thrilled the flame from his lamp Fancita Smith crouched silently back into the corner and watched him keenly convinced that his errand was one of secret and probably sinister import there was no hesitation in the other's movements he stepped lightly and swiftly across to one of the great cases and drawing a key from his pocket he unlocked it from the upper shelf he pulled down a mummy which he bore away with him and they laid it with much care and solicitude upon the ground by it he placed his lamp and then squatting down beside it in eastern fashion he began with long, quivering fingers to undo the syricloths and bandages which girt it round as the crackling rolls of linen peeled off one after another a strong aromatic odor filled the chamber and fragments of scented wood and of spices patted down upon the marble floor it was clear to John Fancita Smith that this mummy had never been unswathed before the operation interested him keenly he thrilled all over with curiosity and his bird-like head protruded further and further from behind the door when, however, the last roll had been removed from his 2,000-year-old head it was all that he could do to stifle an outcry of amazement first a cascade of long black glossy tresses poured over the workman's hands and arms a second turn of the bandage revealed a low white forehead with a pair of delicately arched eyebrows a third uncovered a pair of bright, deeply fringed eyes a straight, well-cut nose a fourth, at last, showed a sweet, full, sensitive mouth and a beautifully curved chin the whole face was one of extraordinary loveliness save for the one blemish that in the centre of the forehead there was a single, irregular, coffee-coloured splotch it was a triumph of the embalmer's art Fancita Smith's eyes grew larger and larger as he gazed upon it and he chirrupt in his throat with satisfaction its effect upon the Egyptologist was as nothing, however, compared with that which it produced upon the strange attendant he threw his hands up into the air burst into a harsh clatter of words and then hurling himself down upon the ground beside the mummy he threw his arms around her and kissed her repeatedly upon the lips and brow ma petite, he groaned in French ma pauvre petite his voice broke with emotion and his innumerable wrinkles quivered and writhed but the student observed in the lamp-light that his shining eyes were still dry and tearless as two beads of steel for some minutes he lay with a twitching face crooning and moaning over the beautiful head then he broke into a sudden smile and said some words in an unknown tongue and sprang to his feet a vigorous air of one who has braced himself for an effort in the centre of the room there was a large circular case which contained, as the student had frequently remarked a magnificent collection of early Egyptian rings and precious stones to this the attendant strode and unlocking it through it open on the ledge at the side he placed his lamp and beside it a small earthenware jar which he had drawn from his pocket he then took a handful of rings from the case and with the most serious and anxious face he proceeded to smear each in turn with some liquid substance from the earthen pot holding them to the light as he did so he was clearly disappointed with the first lot for he threw them petulantly back into the case and drew out some more one of these was a massive ring with a large crystal set in it he seized and eagerly tested with the contents of the jar instantly he uttered a cry of joy and threw out his arms in a wild gesture which upset the pot and set the liquid streaming across the floor to the very feet of the Englishman the attendant drew a red-hanker-chief from his bosom and mopping up the mess he followed it into the corner where in a moment he found himself face to face with his observer excuse me, said John Fancetart Smith with all imaginable politeness I have been unfortunate enough to fall asleep behind the door and you've been watching me the other asked in English with the most venomous look on his corpse-like face the student was a man of ferocity I confess, said he, that I have noticed your movements and that they have aroused my curiosity and interest in the highest degree the man drew a long flamboyant bladed knife from his bosom you've had a very narrow escape, he said had I seen you ten minutes ago I should have driven this through your heart as it is, if you touch me or interfere with me in any way you're a dead man I have no wish to interfere with you the student answered my presence here is entirely accidental all I ask is that you will have the extreme kindness to show me out through some side door he spoke with great suivity for the man was still pressing the tip of his dagger against the palm of his left hand as though to assure himself of its sharpness while his face preserved its malignant expression if I thought, said he but no, perhaps it is as well what is your name? the Englishman gave it Fancetart Smith, the other repeated are you the same Fancetart Smith who gave a paper in London upon El Kab? I saw a report of it your knowledge of the subject is contemptible sir, cried the Egyptologist yet it is superior to that of many who make even greater pretensions the whole keystone of our old life in Egypt was not the inscriptions or monuments of which you make so much but was our hematic philosophy and mystic knowledge of which you say little or nothing our old life repeated the scholar, why died and then suddenly, good God, look at the mummy's face the strange man turned and flashed his light upon the dead woman uttering a long, doleful cry as he did so the action of the air who had already undone all the art of the embalmer the skin had fallen away the eyes had sunk inwards the discoloured lips had writhed away from the yellow teeth and the brown mark upon the forehead alone showed that it was indeed the same face which had shown such youth and beauty few short minutes before the man flapped his hands together in grief and horror then, mastering himself by a strong effort he turned his hard eyes once more upon the Englishman it does not matter, he said in a shaking voice it really does not matter I came here tonight with a fixed determination to do something and it is now done all ours is as nothing I have found my quest the old curse is broken I can rejoin her what matter about her in inanimate shell so long as her spirit is awaiting me on the other side of the veil these are wild words, said Vance Totsmith he was becoming more and more convinced that he had to do with a madman time presses and I must go continued the other the moment is at hand for which I have waited this weary time but I must show you out first, come with me taking the lamp he turned from the disordered chamber and led the students swiftly through the long series of the Egyptian, Assyrian and Persian apartments at the end of the latter he pushed open a small door let into the wall and descended a winding stone stair the Englishman felt the cold fresh air of the night upon his brow there was a door opposite him which appeared to communicate with the street to the right of this another door stood ajar throwing a spurt of yellow light across the passage coming here, said the attendant shortly Vance Totsmith hesitated he had hoped that he had come to the end of his adventure yet his curiosity was strong within him he could not leave the matter unsolved so he followed his strange companion into the lighted chamber it was a small room such as is devoted to a concierge a wood fire sparkled in the grate at one side stood a chuckle-bed and at the other a coarse wooden chair with a round table in the centre which bore the remains of a meal as the visitor's eye glanced round he could not but remark with an ever-recurring thrill that all the small details of the room were of the most quaint design and antique workmanship the candlesticks, the vases upon the chimney-piece the fire-ions, the ornaments upon the walls were all such as he had been wont to associate with the remote past the gnarled, heavy-eyed man sat himself down upon the edge of the bed and motioned his guest into the chair there may be design in this, he said still speaking excellent English it may be decreed that I should leave some account behind as a warning to all rash mortals who would set their wits up against the workings of nature I leave it with you make such use as you will of it I speak to you now with my feet upon the threshold of the other world I am, as you surmised, an Egyptian not one of the downtrodden race of slaves who now inhabit the delta of the Nile but a survivor of that fiercer and harder people who tamed the Hebrew drove the Ethiopian back into the southern deserts and built those mighty works that have been the envy and the wonder of all after-generations it was in the reign of Tutmosis 1600 years before the birth of Christ that I first saw the light you shrink away from me wait and you will see that I am more to be pitied than to be feared my name is Sosra my father had been the chief priest of Osiris in the great temple of Abaris which stood in those days in the albastic branch of the Nile I was brought up in the temple and was trained in all those mystic arts which are spoken of in your own Bible I was an apt pupil before I was sixteen I had learned all which the wisest priest could teach me from that time on I studied nature's secrets for myself and shared my knowledge with no man of all the questions which attracted me there were none over which I laboured so long as over those which concern themselves with the nature of life I probed deeply into the vital principle the aim of medicine had been to drive away disease when it appeared it seemed to me that a method might be devised which should so fortify the body as to prevent weakness or death from ever taking hold of it it is useless that I should recount my researches you would scarce comprehend them if I did they were carried out partly upon animals partly upon slaves and partly on myself suffice it that their result was to furnish me with a substance which when injected into the blood would endow the body with strength to resist the effects of time of violence or of disease it would not indeed confer immortality but its potency would endure for many thousands of years I used it upon a cat and afterwards drugged the creature with the most deadly poisons that cat is alive in low Egypt at the present moment there was nothing of mystery or magic in the matter it was simply a chemical discovery which may well be made again a love of life runs high in the young it seemed to me that I had broken away from all human care now that I had abolished pain and driven death to such a distance with a light heart I poured the accursed stuff into my veins then I looked around for someone whom I could benefit there was a young priest of thought Parmi's by name who had won my goodwill by his earnest nature and his devotion to his studies to him I whispered my secret and at his request I injected him with my elixir I should now, I reflected never be without a companion of the same age as myself after this grand discovery I relaxed my studies to some extent but Parmi's continued his with redoubled energy every day I could see him working with his flasks and his distiller in the temple of Doth but he said little to me as the result of his labours for my own part I used to walk through the city and look around me with exultations I reflected that all this was destined to pass away and that only I should remain but people would bow to me as they passed for the fame of my knowledge had gone abroad there was war at this time and the great king had sent down his soldiers to the eastern boundary to drive away the Hiksos a governor too was sent to a barris that he might hold it for the king I had heard much of the beauty of the daughter of this governor but one day as I walked down with Parmi's we met her born upon the shoulders of her slaves I was struck with love as with lightning my heart went out from me I could have thrown myself beneath the feet of her bearers this was my woman life without her was impossible I swore by the head of Horus that she should be mine I swore it to the priest of Doth he turned away from me with a brow which was as black as midnight there is no need to tell you of our wooing she came to love me and I loved her I learned that Parmi's had seen her before I did and had shown her that he too loved her but I could smile at his passion for I knew that her heart was mine the white plague had come upon the city and many were stricken but I laid hands upon the sick and nursed them without fear or scathe she marveled at my daring then I told her my secret and begged her that she would let me use my art upon her your flower shall then be unwithered, Atma I said other things may pass away but you and I and our great love for each other shall outlive the tomb of King Chephru but she was full of timid maidenly objections was it right, she asked was it not a thwarting of the will of the gods if the great Osiris had wished that our years should be so long would he not himself have brought it about with fond and loving words I overcame her doubts and yet she hesitated it was a great question she said she would think it over for this one night in the morning I should know of her resolution surely one night was not too much to ask she wished to pray to Isis for help in her decision with a sinking heart and a sad foreboding of evil I left her with her tywin in the morning when the early sacrifice was over I hurried to her house a frightened slave met me upon the steps her mistress was ill, she said very ill in a frenzy I broke my way through the attendance and rushed through the hall and corridor to my Atma's chamber she lay upon her couch her head high upon the pillow with a pallid face and glazed eye on her forehead there blazed a single angry purple patch I knew that hell-mark of old it was the scar of the white plague the sign-manual of death why should I speak of that terrible time for months I was mad fevered delirious and yet I could not die never did an Arab thirst after the sweet wells as I longed after death could poison or steal have shortened the thread of my existence I should soon have rejoined my love in the land with the narrow portal I tried but it was of no avail the accursed influence was too strong upon me one night as I lay upon my couch weak and weary Parmes, the priest of Thoth, came to my chamber he stood in the circle of the lamplight and he looked down upon me with eyes which were bright with a mad joy why did you let the maiden die he asked why did you not strengthen her as you strengthened me I was too late I answered but I had forgot you loved her you are my fellow in misfortune is it not terrible to think of the centuries which must pass ere we look upon her again fools, fools that we were to take death to be our enemy you may say that you cried with a wild laugh the words come well from your lips I cried what mean you I cried raising myself upon my elbow surely friend this grief has turned your brain his face was a flame with joy and he writhed and shook like one who hath a devil do you know whether I go he asked nay I answered I cannot tell I go to her said he she lies embalmed in the father tomb by the double palm tree beyond the city wall I cried to die he shrieked to die I am not bound by earthly fetters but the elixir is in your blood I cried I can defy it said he I have found a stronger principle which will destroy it it is working in my veins at this moment and in an hour I shall be a dead man I shall join her and you shall remain behind as I looked upon him I could see that he spoke the words of truth the light in his eye told me he was indeed beyond the power of the elixir you will teach me I cried never he answered I implore you by the wisdom of Thoth by the majesty of Anubis it is useless he said coldly then I will find out I cried you cannot he answered it came to me by chance there is one ingredient which you will never get save that which is in the ring of Thoth none will ever more be made in the ring of Thoth I replied in the ring of Thoth that you shall never know he answered you want her love who has won in the end I leave you to your sordid earthly life my chains are broken I must go he turned upon his heel and fled from the chamber in the morning came the news that the priest of Thoth was dead my days after that were spent in study I must find this subtle poison which was strong enough to undo the elixir from early dawn to midnight went over the test tube and the furnace above all I collected the papyri and the chemical flasks of the priest of Thoth alas they taught me little here and there some hint or stray expression would raise hope in my bosom but no good ever came of it still month after month I struggled on when my heart grew faint I would make my way to the tomb by the palm trees there standing by the dead casket from which the jewel had been rifled I would feel her sweet presence and would whisper to her that I would join her if mortal wit could solve the riddle Parmes had said that his discovery was connected with the ring of Thoth I had some remembrance of the trinket it was a large and weighty circlet made not of gold but of a rare and heavier metal brought from the mines of Mount Harbaugh platinum you call it the ring had, I remembered a hollow crystal set in it in which some few drops of liquid might be stored now the secret of Parmes could not have to do with the metal alone for there were many rings of that metal in the temple was it not more likely that he had stored his precious poison within the cavity of the crystal I had scarce come to this conclusion before in hunting through his papers I came upon one which told me that it was indeed so and that there was still some of the liquid unused but how to find the ring it was not upon him when he was stripped for the embalmer of that I made sure neither was it among his private effects in vain I searched every room that he had entered every box and vase and chattel that he had owned I sifted the very sand of the desert in places where he had been want to walk but do what I would I could come upon no traces of the ring of thought yet it may be that my labours would have overcome all obstacles had it not been for a new and unlooked for misfortune a great war had been waged against the Hicksos and the captains of the great king had been cut off in the desert with all their bowmen and horsemen the shepherd tribes were upon us like the locusts in a dry year from the wilderness of Shure to the great Bitter Lake there was blood by day and fire by night a barres was the bulwark of Egypt but we could not keep the savages back the city fell the governor and the soldiers were put to the sword and I with many more was led away into captivity for years and years I attended the cattle in the great plains by the Euphrates my master died in the cold but I was still as far from death as ever at last I escaped upon a swift camel and made my way back to Egypt the Hicksos had settled in the land which they'd conquered and their own king ruled over the country a barres had been torn down the city had been burned and the great temple there was nothing left save and unsightly mound everywhere the tombs had been rifled of my Atma's grave no sign was left it was buried in the sands of the desert and the palm trees which marked the spot had long since disappeared the papers of Parmes and the remains of the temple of Thoth were either destroyed or scattered far and wide over the deserts of Syria all search after them was in vain from that time I gave up all hope of ever finding the ring or discovering the subtle drug I set myself to live as patiently as might be until the effect of the elixir should wear away how can you understand how terrible a thing time is you who have experience only of the narrow course which lies between the Quadal and the grave I know it to my cost I who have floated down the whole stream of history I was old when Ilium fell I was very old when Herodotus came to Memphis I was bowed down with years when the new gospel came upon earth yet you see me much as other men are with the cursed elixir still sweetening my blood and guarding me against that which I would court now at last at last I have come to the end of it I have travelled in all lands and I have dwelt with all nations every tongue is the same to me I learned them all to help pass the weary time I need not tell you how slowly they drifted by the long dawn of modern civilization the dreary middle years the dark times of barbarism they are all behind me now I have never looked with the eyes of love upon another woman Atma knows that I have been constant to her it was my custom to read all that the scholars had to say upon ancient Egypt I learned them all to say upon ancient Egypt I have been in many positions sometimes affluent sometimes poor but I have always found enough to enable me to buy the journals which dealt with such matters some nine months ago I was in San Francisco when I heard an account of some discoveries made in the neighborhood of Abaris my heart leapt into my mouth as I read it it said that the excavator found himself in exploring some tombs recently unearthed in one there had been found an unopened mummy with an inscription upon the outer case setting forth that it contained the body of the daughter of the governor of the city in the days of Tutmosis it added that on removing the outer case there had been exposed a large platinum ring set with a crystal which had been laid upon the breast this then was where Parmes had hidden the ring of Toth he might well say that it was safe for no Egyptian would ever stain his soul by removing even the outer case of a buried friend that very night I set off from San Francisco and in a few weeks I found myself once more at Abaris if a few sand heaps and crumbling walls may retain the name of the great city I hurried to the Frenchman who were digging there and asked them for the ring they replied that both the ring and the mummy had been sent to the Boulac Museum at Carrot to Boulac I went but only to be told that Mariette Bay had claimed them and had shipped them to the Louvre I followed them and there at last in the Egyptian Chamber I came after close upon four thousand years upon the remains of my Atma and upon the ring for which I had sought the wrong but how was I to lay hands upon them how was I to have them for my very own it chanced that the office of attendant was vacant I went to the director I convinced him that I knew much about Egypt in my eagerness I said too much he remarked that a professor's chair would suit me better than a seat in the Conciergery I knew more he said than he did it was only by blundering I think that he had overestimated my knowledge that I prevailed upon him to let me move the few effects which I have retained into this chamber it is my first and my last night here such is my story, Mr. van Cittart Smith I need not say more to a man of your perception by a strange chance you have this night looked upon the face of the woman whom I loved in those far off days there were many rings with crystals in the case it was a test for the platinum to be sure of the one which I wanted a glance at the crystal had showed me that the liquid is indeed within it and that I shall at last be able to shake off that accursed health which has been worse to me than the foulest disease I have nothing more to say to you I have unburdened myself you may tell my story or you may withhold it at your pleasure the choice rests with you I owe you some amends but you have had a narrow escape of your life this night I was a desperate man and not to be balked in my purpose had I seen you before the thing was done I might have put it beyond your power to oppose me or to raise an alarm this is the door it leads to the rude riffle good night the Englishman glanced back for a moment the lean figure of Sosra the Egyptian stood framed in the narrow doorway the next the door had slammed and the heavy rasping of the bolt broke on the silent night it was on the second day after his return to London that Mr John Vancetart Smith saw the following concise narrative in the Paris correspondence of the Times curious occurrence in the Louvre yesterday morning a strange discovery was made in the principal eastern chamber the ouvrier who are employed to clean out the rooms in the morning one of the attendants lying dead upon the floor with his arms round one of the mummies so close was his embrace that it was only with the utmost difficulty that they were separated one of the cases containing valuable rings had been opened and rifled the authorities are of the opinion that the man was bearing away with the mummy with some idea of selling it to a private collector but that he was struck down in the very act by a long standing disease of the heart it is said that he was a man of uncertain age and eccentric habits without any living relations to mourn over his dramatic and untimely end End of The Ring of Thoth by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle