Robert Chambers - The Slayer Of souls

"They seem so friendly," she said under her breath.

He thought she meant that she found even in flowers a refuge from the solitude of a loveless marriage.

He said quietly: "I think you will find the world very friendly, if you wish." But she shook her head, looking at the roses.

Finally he said good–night and she extended her hand, and he took it formally.

Then their hands fell away. Tressa turned and went toward her bedroom. At the door she stopped, turned slowly.

"What shall I do about Yulun?" she asked.

"What is there to do? Yulun is in China."

"Yes, her body is."

"Do you mean that the rest of her—whatever it is—could come here?"

"Why, of course."

"So that Benton could see her?"

"Yes."

"Could he see her just as she is? Her face and figure—clothes and everything?"

"Yes."

"Would she seem real or like a ghost—spirit—whatever you choose to call such things?"

Tressa smiled. "She'd be exactly as real as you or I, Victor. She'd seem like anybody else."

"That's astonishing," he muttered. "Could Benton hear her speak?"

"Certainly."

"Talk to her?"

Tressa laughed: "Of course. If Yulun should make the effort she could leave her body as easily as she undresses herself. It is no more difficult to divest one's self of one's body than it is to put off one garment and put on another…. And, somehow, I think Yulun will do it to–night."

"Come here ?"

"It would be like her." Tressa laughed. "Isn't it odd that she should have become so enamoured of Mr. Benton—just seeing him there in the moonlight that night at Orchid Lodge?"

For a moment the smile curved her lips, then the shadow fell again across her eyes, veiling them in that strange and lovely way which Cleves knew so well; and he looked into her impenetrable eyes in troubled silence.

"Victor," she said in a low voice, "were you afraid to tell me that your man had been murdered?"

After a moment: "You always know everything," he said unsteadily. "When did you learn it?"

"Just before Mr. Recklow told you."

"How did you learn it, Tressa?"

"I looked into our apartment."

"When?"

"While you were telephoning."

"You mean you looked into our rooms from here ?"

"Yes, clairvoyantly."

"What did you see?"

"The Iaglamichi!" she said with a shudder. "Kai! The Toug of Djamouk is anointed at last!"

"Is that the beast of a Mongol who did this murder?"

"Djamouk and Prince Sanang planned it," she said, trembling a little. "But that butchery was Yaddin's work, I think. Kai! The work of Yaddined–Din, Tougtchi to Djamouk the Fox!"

They stood confronting each other, the length of the sitting–room between them. And after the silence had lasted a full minute Cleves reddened and said: "I am going to sleep on the couch at the foot of your bed, Tressa."

His young wife reddened too.

He said: "This affair has thoroughly scared me. I can't let you sleep out of my sight."

"I am quite safe. And you would have an uncomfortable night," she murmured.

"Do you mind if I sleep on the couch, Tressa?"

"No."

"Will you call me when you are ready?"

"Yes."

She went into her bedroom and closed the door.

When he was ready he slipped a pistol into the pocket of his dressing–gown, belted it over his pyjamas, and walked into the sitting–room. His wife called him presently, and he went in. Her night–lamp was burning and she extended her hand to extinguish it.

"Could you sleep if it burns?" he asked bluntly.

"Yes."

"Then let it burn. This business has got on my nerves," he muttered.

They looked at each other in an expressionless way. Both really understood how useless was this symbol of protection—this man the girl called husband;—how utterly useless his physical strength, and the pistol sagging in the pocket of his dressing–gown. Both understood that the only real protection to be looked for must come from her—from the gifted and guardian mind of this young girl who lay there looking at him from the pillows.

"Good–night," he said, flushing; "I'll do my best. But only one of God's envoys, like you, knows how to do battle with things that come out of hell."

After a moment's silence she said in a colourless voice: "I wish you'd lie down on the bed."

"Had you rather I did?"

"Yes."

So he went slowly to the bed, placed his pistol under the pillow, drew his dressing–gown around him, and lay down.

After he had lain unstirring for half an hour: "Try to sleep, Tressa," he said, without turning his head.

"Can't you seem to sleep, Victor?" she asked. And he heard her turn her head.

"No."

"Shall I help you?"

"Do you mean use hypnosis—the power of suggestion—on me?"

"No. I can help you to sleep very gently. I can make you very drowsy…. You are drowsy now…. You are very close to the edge of sleep…. Sleep, dear…. Sleep, easily, naturally, confidently as a tired boy…. You are sleeping, … deeply … sweetly … my dear … my dear, dear husband."

Cleves opened his eyes. He was lying on his left side. In the pink glow of the night–lamp he saw his wife in her night–dress, seated sideways on the farther edge of the bed, talking to a young girl.

The strange girl wore what appeared to be a chamber–robe of frail gold tissue that clung to her body and glittered as she moved. He had never before seen such a dress; but he had seen the girl; he recognised her instantly as the girl he had seen turn to look back at Tressa as she crossed the phantom bridge over that misty Florida river. And Cleves comprehended that he was looking at Yulun.

But this charming young thing was no ghost, no astral projection. This girl was warm, living, breathing flesh. The delicate scent of her strange garments and of her hair, her very breath, was in the air of the room. Her half–hushed but laughing voice was deliciously human; her delicate little hands, caressing Tressa's, were too eagerly real to doubt.

Both talked at the same time, their animated voices mingling in the breathless delight of the reunion. Their exclamations, enchanting laughter, bubbling chatter, filled his ears. But not one word of what they were saying to each other could he understand.

Suddenly Tressa looked over her shoulder and met his astonished eyes.

"Tokhta!" she exclaimed. "Yulun! My lord is awake!"

Yulun swung around swiftly on the edge of the bed and looked laughingly at Cleves. But when her red lips unclosed she spoke to Tressa: and, "Darling," she said in English, "I think your dear lord remembers that he saw me on the Bridge of Dreams. And heard the bells of Yian across the mist."

Tressa said, laughing at her husband: "This is Yulun, flame–slender, very white, loveliest in Yian. On the rose–marble steps of the Yezidee Temple she flung a stemless rose upon Djamouk's shroud, where he had spread it like a patch of snow in the sun.

"And at the Lake of the Ghosts, where there is freedom to love, for those who desire love, came Yaddin, Tougtchi to Djamouk the Fox, in search of love—and Yulun, flame–slim, and flower–white…. Tell my dear lord, Yulun!"

Yulun laughed at Cleves out of her dark eyes that slanted charmingly at the corners.

"Kai!" she cried softly, clapping her palms. "I took his roses and tore them with my hands till their petals rained on him and their golden hearts were a powdery cloud floating across the water.

"I said: 'Even the damned do not mate with demons, my Tougtchi! So go to the devil, my Banneret, and may Erlik seize you!'"

Cleves, his ears ringing with the sweet confusion of their girlish laughter, rose from his pillow, supporting himself on one arm.