 The weird circle. In this cave, by the restless sea, we are met to call from out the past stories, strange, and weird. Bellkeeper, hold the bell, so all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle. Bring again the immortal tale, the possessive death. I know superstition dictates that it's bad luck for a young man to see his bride the evening before his wedding. However, Michael and I were two lonely people in a big, wintry city, and we were not at all addicted to belief in superstition. We had known each other since we were children, and I had loved Michael as long as that. He, on his part, claimed to have loved me even longer. It was the warm kind of love, the kind that grows on you and stays, believing and never wavering. Yes, Michael and I did see each other the day before we were to be married. In fact, we went shopping together. We entered one of the dusty little shops Michael loved so much. It was warm in there, musty, and sort of attic-like. Well, it's warm in here anyhow. But what a funny little place, so much stuff. I never saw so many old things together in one place. And look, look, Michael, a shopkeeper. He looks exactly like a gnome. Baldest head I ever laid eyes on. Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon. Can I help you? Oh, thank you. We're just looking around. Anything in particular you'd like to find? Well, to tell you the truth, I was looking for an odd piece, something unusual for a paperweight. A little curiosity of some sort. Well, just look around, sir. Perhaps you'll find what you want. Oh, thanks. Say, there. That looks like just the thing. Oh, no, sir, no. I'm sure that wouldn't do. Oh, why not? It's beautiful. It's the most beautifully model foot I've ever seen. It's not heavy enough for a paperweight, sir. And besides, you wouldn't want to pay that much just for an ornament. Well, it can't be too expensive, especially if it's not heavy. A bronze, isn't it? No, no, not bronze. Oh, here, I'll take it off the table. It shouldn't be there anyway. Oh, that's lovely. Mmm. Must have been near some perfume, too. Smell that scent. Oh, Michael, it seems almost real. Perhaps you'd like one of these little plaster gods, sir. Something Chinese or Mexican. They're very nice. Let me see the foot. It's $50, sir. $50? Well, don't be ridiculous. Oh, Michael, perhaps a man doesn't want to sell it. But I like it. I'll never pay $50 for it, though. But that's the price, sir. Now, you see, you don't really want it. Perhaps one of these glass globes would do. Let me see that foot. Very well, if you insist. But don't drop it, sir. For heaven's sake, don't drop it. Oh, why should I? Oh. Michael, what happened? You dropped it. You dropped the foot. It...it...it... What, Michael? What's wrong? Here, I'll pick it up. No, don't, Eleanor. Don't touch it. Michael, moved in my hand. It what? It must have been our imaginations. It does feel almost alive, though, doesn't it? No. No, Michael, I felt it, too. That foot moved in my hand as I picked it up. I'd sell you that foot for $1, sir. All righty. It's a bargain. No, Michael, please don't. Please, Michael. At first, though, tell me what this foot is made of. That, sir, is the foot of the mummy of the princess, Hymonthus. It was stolen from her tomb a thousand years ago. And probably stolen from the museum ten days ago. Very well, sir. Here's your dollar. Michael. Sounds interesting, doesn't it, darling, to own a mummy's foot? A paperweight that moves under its own power. Come on, darling. Don't you feel a little sorry for poor Hymonthus losing a foot like that? No, Michael, no. There's something horrible about that foot. Something we shouldn't have anything to do with. And he was so anxious to sell it to you after... Come on. Come on, darling. Don't let your imagination run away with you. It couldn't really have moved. We just thought it did. You know, this will be a good story for Harry tonight over dinner. Where is it he's taking us? The Grey Stone? I hardly felt the bitter cold outside as we walked away from the little shop. My only feeling was one of apprehension. I could still remember the horrible sensation I had as that little foot had squirmed in my hand. No matter how Michael might try to joke about it, I knew he was mystified, too. And I knew that some compulsion other than his own had made him take the mummy's foot. It wasn't until after we had deposited the thing safely on Michael's desk and were having dinner in a brightly lighted restaurant that I began to feel better. Our host, Harry, was to be Michael's best man the next day. And he was an old friend of both of us. As Michael told Harry the story, the horror of it seemed a little foolish. As such things will when you're in gay public places. Well, the funny part of it was, Harry, that if it hadn't been such a tiny foot, you might have sworn that it belonged to the shopkeeper himself. He looked enough like an Egyptian mummy to be one. Well, I'm surprised that I won't let you buy it at all. It doesn't sound like a very pleasant thing to have around. I couldn't talk him out of it, Harry. I believe he was enchanted. Enchanted by an Egyptian and a mummy at that. Michael always was quite a Don Juan, or should I say quite an Anthony. Hey, there's a little bit of something. I can wrap up and take home Mummy or not. Oh, where, Harry? See? He's interested already. You're right, Harry. I believe he is a Don Juan. Hey. Not bad. Oh, where is she? Right over there, to my left. You can't see her very well, Eleanor, but she's really something. All dressed up in a long white dress and has on an emerald bracelet. And what eyes? Oh, my. Yes, I can see her in that mirror over there. But look how she's watching Michael. Harry, I don't like it. Don't worry, Eleanor. We'll get him to that altar tomorrow if we have to hog tie it. She's... she's... I feel as though I'd seen her before somewhere. In a dream somewhere. Something terrible. Something that makes me feel afraid of her. Nightmare, no doubt. You know, she must have passed right close to our table when she came in. I can smell her perfume. Oh, you know what's hers? Well, it smells sort of Egyptian, you know, and she looks Egyptian. Egyptian? Michael, that perfume is the same. Same as what, darling? The same perfume I smelled on that mummy's foot this afternoon. What an imagination. Oh, no, darling. You look so serious. Don't be so afraid of silly things like this. There's nothing wrong. Nothing at all. There is, Michael. I can feel something wrong in the very air. What sort of thing? I don't know, Michael. Something horrible. An awful premonition. What can happen as long as we have each other, darling? I don't know, Michael. Nothing really, I suppose. Nothing natural. But what if there were ghosts? The spirits of the dead around. Suppose for some reason they wanted one of us. Eleanor, darling, don't get so worked up. Those aren't things to think about. Especially on the night before our wedding. Look, here we are in a brightly lighted restaurant and you're talking about things that belong to dark houses and cobwebby attics. Things that can't touch us here. You're talking as though you do believe those things exist, though. Now, look here, you two. I'm sorry if I brought up a delicate subject when I mentioned that woman over there. It isn't that at all, Harry. It's just that... Well, Eleanor and I, after this afternoon, I guess we're both rather worked up. Michael, Michael, I'm really frightened. That woman, she keeps watching us so strangely. What if... Oh, my darling, let's forget about her. Let's forget about everything but ourselves for tonight. Just think, tomorrow we'll be married. It'll be the beginning of a new life. A life together. And the carrying on of an old one, too. And never forget, dearest, if anything should happen, I'll always be there when you want me. I love you, Eleanor. Always, Michael. You'll never have to call for me. I'll be there. I will, too, darling. Always. Nothing can ever come between us and tear us apart. Nothing. I swear. Can you be so sure? Michael! Didn't mean to startle you so much. It was just that I couldn't help noticing that you had noticed me. Well, I'll be... Michael. I bet it done one, and I thought you heard that. It's the lady with the emerald bracelet. Yes, it is Michael, as you call him, who attracts me here. I beg your pardon. You don't mind if I sit down, do you? Well... Yeah, that's better. You see, love isn't a special study of mine. And this love that you think you have now, it's very interesting to me. Yes, very interesting. Michael, I... Sit still, darling. Don't leave now. Hold my hand tight. You guessed right, you people. I am an Egyptian, and being an Egyptian, my looks are rather different, shall I say, from yours? Uh, nice difference, though, madam. Mademoiselle, if you please. The women of my country have great beauty in the eyes of your western men, yes. So you two think yourselves in love. Very much in love. Well, who can say what love is, unless they have felt it through centuries? I know what love is. It's growing together, being a part of the one you love. Well, Michael and I have grown up together, love each other for years, 15 years at least. 15 years? Nothing. What if it had lasted 30 centuries? That's ridiculous. Is it? Well, my little one, we shall see. There is a love which has lasted that long, and almost... almost it has consummated. Perhaps tonight. Tonight? Think of it, Michael. Michael! And this little love of yours, 15 years, it will be no more. What is I who have loved through 30 centuries? I. We cannot talk of that here, can we, Michael? Well, why do you ask me that question? Because it affects you. You more than anyone else. As for you, Eleanor, not you nor anyone else can interfere. Michael, Michael, send her away. No one can send me away. That would be like trying to send the very air out of this room. Who are you? I'm a woman of Egypt. What is your name? Name? What is the name except a tag for the living? My name is Hamanthus. Hamanthus? Just a name like any other. I'll leave you now. But I will see you again. Hamanthus? And what's wrong with that? That was the name of the princess. The mummies who fought... Michael bought. It's a coincidence, Eleanor. It must be. It seems as though there's a dreadful net stretched around just coming closer and closer. Oh, Michael, ever since you saw that foot, you seem to have done everything you could to put yourself in his power. Why did you buy it? Why did you? Power in a mummy's foot. Look, she's waving back at us. She's waving as though she wants me to go away. And she's pointing at you. Michael, no one else seems to see her at all. Now forget about her, Eleanor. Now forget her. She's crazy. Michael, Harry, look. What? Look how she's walking. She limps. Almost as though one of her feet was missing. Michael even tried to laugh at my noticing that horrible limp. But I could see that he was wondering too. Perhaps something distant, something dimly remembered, had begun to come into his mind. And he was rejecting it forcibly. It was later, much later, when I was in bed, that I knew Michael was in danger. I wanted to get up, but I couldn't. I struggled and tried to force myself out of bed, but I couldn't move a muscle. Finally, after what seemed ours, it seemed as though I was in the deepest sleep. But everything about me was very clear. Perhaps I'd got up after all, for it seemed all at once that I was in Michael's room. And she was there talking to him. His eyes were open. He didn't seem afraid. He seemed almost hypnotized. I stayed invisible, back in the shadows. Centuries ago, Michael, I took the life of the woman you loved, so that you might be free to love me. I, the daughter of the fairer, went on my knees to you then. Now, now the secrets of the universe are open to me, and it's you who must obey. How did this happen to me? I don't understand. The shopkeeper knew the legend, and he feared it. He didn't know why, but he knew that in whose hand the mummy's foot moved, to him must he sell it. But how could you come back? For murdering I was condemned. Condemned to wander in eternity, scorned and barred from the region to rest. But in the centuries that have passed, I've discovered the secret of returning. But if some token, some real part of myself were left among the living, I could return for it. I could come back. And the token? It had to carry with it some real essence, some true part of myself. And then, a thousand years ago, that foot was stolen from me. I waited and waited, for I knew that sometime that would lead me to you. I'm not the same man. I'm not the man you loved. I'm here now, alive. Do you think that I've watched the progression of lives through eternity with no purpose? No, Michael. You are the man that you don't remember. You have the same life. You have only a different body. You have the same honest and beautiful soul you had then. It's your life, Michael. Your life and your soul. That's what I'll take with me. I couldn't hold you before, but I can take you now. Come, Michael. I do not need to touch you now, but it's better if you take my hand. You have a long journey to make. Go away. No. Oh, if I could only move, if I could get up, if I could do something, what's holding me? The journey is long, Michael. I'm in a hurry. If I must force you, I must. Leave me alone. I won't come. I won't. I can move. I can move. Let me... let me... I'm almost out of bed. I'm almost standing. You've moved only a little with all your struggle, Michael. Here, I'll only touch you again, and you'll be better. No, no. All right. I'm so dizzy. It's a week. You'll come now, won't you, Michael? I can do nothing else. Yes. How come? As Michael fell to the floor beside his bed, something caught my eye. A little shiny thing hung on a chain around his neck. It was a silver charm I'd given him and graved with my name, but he loved it and wore it always. Seeing it there somehow gave me hope. I had no way to get it. I wanted to, for it might be... it might be the means of his return. But how could I? I didn't dare even show myself. Suddenly we seem to be in great darkness, speeding, speeding through nothings. Where are we? We're on our journey, Michael. We're passing through the absolute, the period between time and space. It's the only channel to which a spirit can return to the lens of the living in his own body. It's horrible, horrible. We've flown through the liquid parts, the parts that are without light, past the half-formed shapes of those already dead and those as yet unborn. See, we're here already. Where? This is a lonely place, cold hills and deserts all around us. This is the place where my body was buried. Deep inside this mountain, Michael, see, we're inside, deep down in the earth, sealed in with a great stone. This is our home, Michael, where we'll be through eternity. Sealed in a tomb, no, never. Let me out, let me out! Shouting will do you no good, Michael. Here is where no man ever comes into these tombs. In the thousands of years we will be here, Michael. Your span of life will pass again, but we'll always be together. I will get out. Never, Michael. You've left nothing behind in the world of a living that is strong enough, enough a part of you to take you back. Eleanor, Eleanor is strong enough. She's a part of me. Your love for Eleanor is strong, Michael, yes. But it's not enough. For love or hate can only take your spirit back to the land of the living, or spirit alone without your body, and would a disembodied spirit be any comfort to Eleanor? But Eleanor is a part of me. No, Michael. For your body to return, you would have to have left a material possession behind. A material thing is needed to take back your material body. Some material thing that represents your love would be strong enough. But I must have left something. One thing that possesses all those requirements, Michael, is that charm you're wearing around your neck. The charm? Yes, that's part of me and part of Eleanor, too. That would be strong enough. But you see, Michael, that's here with us. I'll throw it. I'll throw it into the darkness there at the far end of this place. Maybe it'll go back. Maybe it'll find its way back to her. No, Michael, no. Nothing can find its way back. It must be taken. But you're put. That's still there. We can go back through that. I will go back, Michael. Alone. Yes, I'll make one more journey back, Michael. And then we'll be here together. Or ever. Here. Here, to take the place of that which you have thrown away. Take this ornament. It will remind you of me while I'm away. No, I'm not. Come back. I'm going with you. Let me out. But Hamanthas had gone. Already she had disappeared into the shadows. And Michael still clutching a little green plaster ornament she'd given him. Beed helplessly at the stone walls of his ancient prison tomb and shouted banefully for help. I kept watching the little silver charm he had thrown into the darkness. And still I struggled against nightmare forces to get it. And suddenly I knew I'd won. I could reach for it. I could feel it. I headed at last in my possession. After that, everything was blackness. A flash of light that was the morning sun brought me back to consciousness. My relief was tremendous. I felt that I'd thrown off a great weight when I found myself safely in bed. There was someone knocking on my door. Miss Helena. Miss Helena. Oh, yes, who is it? Mr. Bays, your superintendent. You asked me to call you. It's late already. What? Who? Where am I? From now it's past ten and you must be up. It's your wedding day, you know. My wedding day? All right, Mr. Bays, thank you. What is it? Is anything wrong? It was there. There in my hand. I felt it first and was afraid to look at it. When I looked, it was. Yes, the silver charm. And what happened, Miss Helena? Can I help? Then it hadn't been a dream after all. Somehow, by some unaccountable mesmeric force, I must have left my bed and gone through all those horrible experiences. But they weren't real. They were things of another world. And Michael, what about Michael? I kept the charm in my hand as I kept it. I kept the charm in my hand as I dressed and ran out into the streets. As I ran through the crowds, I kept murmuring to myself almost as though it was a prayer. Let him be there. Please, let him be there. Even as fast as I ran, someone caught up with me. A hand was placed on my arm and held me back. Helena, Helena, what's the matter? Let me go. Let me go. Don't try to stop me. Helena, it's Harry. Don't you even know me? Oh, Harry. Harry, thank heaven, it's you. Come quickly. We flew across town in a taxi. I've been too excited to think of that before. Everything was still too weird. At last, we were at Michael's. But when we reached his door, he didn't answer. Hey, Michael. He isn't there. Oh, Harry, he isn't there. He isn't. He'll be back in a minute. Open the door, Harry. Go in quickly. We may be too late. Boy, he's really sound asleep. Look, he even fell out of bed and didn't wake up. Oh, he's all right. Just asleep. I hope so. Michael. Michael. Oh, help me, Harry. Help me. I've brought him back this far, but we have to wake him up. We have to. If we don't now, he may never wake up again. Come on, old man. Wake up. Hey. Don't shake him that way, Harry, here. Let me... Michael. Michael, my darling, come back. Come back. Let me put this in your hand so you'll know it's really here. It's Charm, Michael. Oh, Charm. See? I've brought it with me. Harry, the foot. Give me the foot. Is it still on the desk there? Well, it ought to be, unless it's walked off by itself. Don't say that, Harry. On the desk, did you say? I don't see it. And she did get it. Oh, Michael. Michael, Michael. Well, then... Oh, Eleanor, it is you. Michael, my darling, you've come back. We're safe. The foot's gone, but look. They're in your hand. A little green plaster ornament. Then it wasn't a dream, but those things... How can such things be? We'll never understand, Michael, never. Our force can be so powerful, so horrible. It's better not to understand. But Eleanor, she can come back. Her body can come back. The ornament, that might be her power now. Give it to me, Michael. What are you going to do? I'll crush it. I'll destroy it. I'll make powder of it. I'll never come back through this. It's the end of her passport to the land of the living. Eleanor, what's that? Look, there on the floor of the powder from that ornament, it's formed itself into the print of a tiny foot. From the time worn pages of the past, we have brought to the story the possessive dead. Bellkeeper Toe the Bell.