Абрахам Меррит - Creep, Shadow!

"I am shaken. Undeniably I am shaken. An experience, a dreadful experience, which I had thought ended forever, has been reopened. I have told Helen of that experience. She has a strong soul, a clear brain; she is a bright spirit. Am I to understand – " he addressed Bill – "that Helen was also in your confidence this evening; that she knew in advance the facts that so strongly surprised me?"

Bill answered: "Partly, sir. She knew about the shadow, but she didn't know that the Demoiselle de Keradel had an Ys pinned in her name. No more did I. Nor had I any cogent reason to suspect the de Keradels when they accepted your invitation. Before that, I did not go into the details of the Ralston case with you because, from the very first, I had the feeling that they would revive painful memories. And obviously, until de Keradel himself revealed it, I could have had no suspicion that he was so closely connected with the dark center of those memories."

Lowell asked: "Did Dr. Caranac know?"

"No. I had determined, whether or not my suspicions seemed to be warranted, to spread Dick's story before de Keradel. I had persuaded Dr. Caranac to anger him. I wanted to watch the reactions of himself and his daughter. I wanted to watch the reactions of Dr. Caranac and yourself. I hold myself entirely justified. I wanted de Keradel to show his hand. If I had laid my own hand before you, never would he have done so. You would have been on your guard, and de Keradel would have known it. He, also, would have been on guard. It was your palpable ignorance of my investigation, your involuntary betrayal of the horror you felt over some similar experience, that prompted him, contemptuous now of you, to reveal his association with the doll-maker and to deliver his threat and challenge. Of course, there is no doubt that some way, somehow, he had discovered the part you took in the matter of the doll-maker. He believes you are terrified to the core… that through fear of what may happen to Helen and me, you will force me to drop the Ralston matter. Unless he believed that, never would he have risked forearming us by forewarning."

Lowell nodded: "He is right. I am frightened. We are, the three of us, in unique peril. But, also, he is wrong. We must go on – "

Helen said, sharply: "The three of us? I think Alan is in worse danger than any of us. The Demoiselle has her brand all ready to add him to her herd."

I said:

"Try not to be so vulgar, darling." I spoke to Lowell: "I am still in the dark, sir. Bill's exposition of the Ralston case was luminously clear. But I know nothing of this doll-maker, and therefore cannot grasp the significance of de Keradel's references to her. If I am to enlist in this cause, manifestly I should be in possession of all the facts to be truly effective, also, for my own protection."

Bill said, grimly:

"You're not only enlisted, you're conscripted."

Dr. Lowell said:

"I will sketch them for you, briefly. Later, William, you will put Dr. Caranac in possession of every detail, and answer all his questions. I encountered the dollmaker, a Mme. Mandilip, through a puzzling hospital case; the strange illness and subsequent stranger death of a lieutenant of a then notorious underworld leader, named Ricori. Whether this woman was what is popularly known as a witch, or whether she had knowledge of natural laws which to us, solely because of ignorance, seem supernatural, or whether she was simply a most extraordinary hypnotist – I am still not certain. She was, however, a murderess. Among the many deaths for which she was responsible were those of Dr. Braile, my associate, and a nurse with whom he was in love. This Mme. Mandilip was an extraordinary artist – whatever else she might be. She made dolls of astonishing beauty and naturalness. She kept a doll-shop where she selected her victims from those who came to buy. She killed by means of a poisonous salve which she found means to use after winning the confidence of her victims. She made effigies – dolls – of these, in their faithful image, in faithful likeness to them. These dolls she then sent out on her errands of murder – animated, or at least so she implied, by something of the vital or, if you will, spiritual essence of those whose bodies they counterfeited; something that was wholly evil… little demons with slender stilettos… who went forth under care of a white-faced, terror-stricken girl whom she called her niece, subject so long to her hypnotic control that she had become, literally, another self of the doll-maker. But whether illusion or reality, of one thing there was no doubt – the dolls killed.

"Ricori was one of her victims, but recovered under my care in this house. He was superstitious, believed Mme. Mandilip a witch, and vowed her execution. He kidnapped the niece, and in this house I placed her under my own hypnotic control to draw from her the secrets of the doll-maker. She died in this hypnosis, crying out that the doll-maker's hands were round her heart – strangling it…"

He paused, eyes haunted as though seeing again some dreadful picture, then went steadily on:

"But before she died, she told us that Mme. Mandilip had possessed a lover in Prague to whom she had taught the secret of the living dolls. And that same night Ricori and some of his men went forth to – execute – the dollmaker. She was executed – by fire. I, though against my will, was a witness of that incredible scene – incredible still to me although I saw it…"

He paused, then lifted his glass with steady hand:

"Well, it seems that de Keradel was that lover. It seems that beside the secret of the dolls, he knows the secret of the shadows – or is it the Demoiselle who knows that, I wonder? And what else of the dark wisdom – who knows? Well, that is that – and now all is to be done again. But this will be more difficult – "

He said, musingly: "I wish Ricori were here to help us. But he is in Italy. Nor could I reach him in time. But his ablest man, one who passed through the whole experience with us, who was there at the execution, he is here. McCann! I'll get McCann!"

He arose:

"Dr. Caranac, you will excuse me? William – I leave things in your hands. I'm going to my study and then to bed – I am – shaken. Helen, my dear, take care of Dr. Caranac."

He bowed and withdrew. Bill began: "Now, about the doll-maker – "

It was close to midnight when he had finished that story, and I had found no more questions to ask. As I was going out, he said:

"You bowled de Keradel almost clean out when you spoke of – what was it – the Alkar-Az and the Gatherer within the Cairn, Alan. What the hell were they?"

I answered:

"Bill, I don't know. The words seemed to come to my lips without volition. Maybe they did come from the Demoiselle – as I told her father."

But deep within me I knew that wasn't true – that I did know, had known, the Alkar-Az and its dread Gatherer – and that some day I would… remember.

Helen said: "Bill, turn your head."

She threw her arms around my neck, and pressed her lips to mine, savagely; she whispered: "It makes my heart sing that you are here – and it breaks my heart that you are here. I'm afraid – I'm so afraid for you, Alan."

She leaned back, laughing a little: "I suppose you're thinking this is the precipitancy of my generation, and its morals – and maybe vulgar, too. But it really isn't as sudden as it seems, darling. Remember – I've loved you since the hornets and snakes."

I gave her back her kiss. The revelation that had begun when I had met her, had come to complete and affirmative conclusion.

As I made my way to the club, all that was in my mind was the face of Helen, the burnished copper helmet of her hair and her eyes of golden amber. The face of the Demoiselle, if I saw it at all, was nothing but a mist of silver-gilt over two purple splotches in a featureless white mask. I was happy.