Абрахам Меррит - Creep, Shadow!

"An' when he gets to this point in his story, Eph shuts up an' heads the bus to the side of the road where we halt. I say: 'Yeah, an' what then?' Eph says: 'Then we pick him up next morning rowing round and 'round the harbor an' crying "keep 'em off me – keep 'em off me!" 'We take him in, he says, an' get him calmed down some an' he tells us what I've told you.'

"An' then," said McCann, "an' then – " He poured himself a drink and gulped it – "An' then the old goat shows he's the best liar or the best actor I ever rode range with. For he says after that 'Lias goes like this an' Eph's eyes roll an' his face twitches an' he sort of screeches – 'Hear the piping! Oh, hear the piping like birds! Oh, God – look at 'em running and hiding in the bushes! Hiding and piping! God – they look like men – but they ain't men. Look at 'em run an' hide!…

"'What's that? It sounds like a hoss… a big hoss… galloping… galloping! Christ! Look at her… with her hair streaming… look at the blue eyes an' white face of her… on the hoss… the big black hoss!

"'Look at 'em run… an' hear 'em pipe! Hear 'em pipe like birds! In the bushes… running from bush to bush…

"'Look at the dogs… they ain't dogs… Christ I keep 'em off me! Christ! keep 'em off me! The hounds of Hell… dear Jesus… keep 'em off me!'"

McCann said: "He made me crawl. I'm telling you I'm crawling now.

"Then he started the bus an' went on. I managed to ask: 'Then what?' He says: 'That's all. That's all we can get out of him. Ain't never been the same since. Mebbe he just fell off the wall an' hit his head. Mebbe so – mebbe not. Anyway 'Lias ain't curious no more. Goes round the village sort of wide-eyed an' lonesome. Get him started an' he'll do for you what I just did.' He cackled – 'But better.'"

"I said, still crawling: 'If what looked like men wasn't, an' the dogs that looked like dogs wasn't, then what the hell were they?'

"He says: 'You know as much as I do.'

"I say: 'Oh, yeah. Anyway, ain't you got any idea on who was the gal on the big black hoss?'

"He says: 'Oh, her, sure. That was the Frenchman's gal.'

Again the icy hand ruffled my hair, and my thoughts ran swiftly… Dahut on the black stallion… and hunting – what… and with what? And the upright stones and the men who had died raising them as they did of old… as of old in Carnac…

McCann's narrative was going smoothly on. He said: "We ride along quiet after that. I see the old goat is pretty agitated, an' chewing his whiskers. We come to the place he's been telling about. We look around. It's a nice place all right. If I was what I say I was, I'd buy it. Old stone house, lots of room – for East. Furniture in it. We amble around an' after a while we come in sight of this wall. It's all the old goat said it was. It'd take artillery or TNT to knock it down. Eph mutters not to pay attention to it, except casual. There's big gates across the road that look like steel to me. An' while I don't see nobody I get the idea we're being watched all the time. We stroll here an' stroll there, an' then back to the other place. An' then the old goat asks me anxious what I think of it, an' I say it's all right if the price is, an' what is the price. An' he gives me one that makes me blink. Not because it's high but because it's so low. It gives me the glimmer of another idea. Nursing that idea, I say I'd like to look at some other places. He shows me some, but halfhearted-like an' the idea grows.

"It's late when we get back to the village. On the way we run across a man who draws up to talk. He says to the old goat: 'Eph, there's four more gone from the poor farm.'

"The old goat sort of jitters an' asks when. The other man says last night. He says the superintendent's about ready to call in the police. Eph sort of calculates an' says that makes about fifty gone. The other man says, yeah, all of that. They shake their heads an' we go on. I ask what's this about the poor farm, an' Eph tells me that it's about ten miles off an' that in the last three months the paupers have been vanishing an' vanishing. He's got that same scared look back, an' starts talking about something else.

"Well, we get back to the Beverly House. Thar's quite a bunch of villagers in the front room, an' they treat me mighty respectful. I gather that Eph has told 'em who I'm supposed to be, an' that this is a sort of committee of welcome. One man comes up an' says he's glad to see me but I've been too slow coming home. Also, they've all got the news about these vanishing paupers, an' it's plain they don't like it.

"I get my supper, an' come out an' there's more people there. They've got a sort of look of herding for comfort. An' that idea of mine gets stronger. It's that I've been wronging Eph in thinking all he wants is a profit from me. I get the flattering idea that they're all pretty plumb scared, an' what they think is that mebbe I'm the man who can help 'em out in whatever's scaring them. After all, I suppose the Partingtons in their time was big guns 'round here, an' here I am, one of 'em, an' coming back providentially, as you might say, just at the right time. I sit an' listen, an' all the talk goes 'round the poor farm an' the Frenchman.

"It gets around nine o'clock an' a feller comes in. He says: 'They picked up two of them missing paupers.' Everybody sort of comes close, an' Eph says: 'Where?' An' this feller says: 'Bill Johnson's late getting in, an' he sees these two floaters off his bow. He hooks an' tows 'em. Old Si Jameson's at the wharf an' he takes a look. He says he knows 'em. They're Sam an' Mattie Whelan who's been at the poor farm for three years. They lay 'em out on the wharf. They must have drowned themselves an' been hitting up against a rock for God knows when, says this feller.

"'What d'you mean hitting up against a rock?' asks Eph. An' the feller says they must have been because, there ain't a whole bone in their chests. Says the ribs are all smashed, an' the way it looks to him they must have been pounding on a rock steady for days. Like as if they'd been tied to it. Even their hearts are all mashed up – "

I felt sick – and abreast of the sickness a bitter rage; and within me I heard a voice crying: "So it was done in the old days… so they slew your people… long ago – " Then I realized I was on my feet, and that Bill was holding my arms.

I said: "All right, Bill. Sorry, McCann," and poured myself a drink.

McCann said, oddly: "Okay, Doc, you've got your reasons. Well, just then into the room comes a gangling sort of feller with empty eyes an' a loose mouth. Nobody says a word, just watches him. He comes over to me an' stares at me. He starts to shake, an' he whispers to me: 'She's riding again. She riding on the black horse. She rode last night with her hair streaming behind her an' her dogs around her – '

"Then he lets out the most God-awful screech an' starts bowing up an' down like a jumpin jack, an' he yells – 'But they ain't dogs! They ain't dogs! Keep em off me! Dear Jesus… keep 'em off me!' At that there's a bunch around him saying 'Come along 'Lias, now come along' an' they take him out, still screeching. Them that's left don't say much.

"They look at me solemn, an' pour down a drink or two an' go. Me – " McCann hesitated " – me, I'm feeling a mite shaky. If I was the old goat I could give you an' idea how 'Lias yelped. It was like a couple of devils had pincers on his soul an' was yanking it loose like a tooth. I drunk a big one an' started for bed. Old Eph stops me. He's putty-white an' his beard is quivering. He trots out another jug an' says: 'Stay up a while, Mr. Partington. We've an idea we'd like you to settle here with us. If that price don't suit you, name your own. We'll meet it.'

"By that time it don't take a master-mind to tell this is a pretty well- scared village. An' from what I know before an' what I've heard since I don't blame 'em. I say to Eph: 'Them paupers? You got an idea where they're going to? Who's taking them?'