The Friendship of Mortals

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by Audrey Driscoll


  ***

  55 Church Street

  Arkham

  May 10, 1915

  Mr. Charles Milburn

  23 ½ College Street

  Arkham

  Dear Mr. Milburn,

  I regret that we have had so few opportunities to become acquainted, for I suspect that we have much in common. But it is not for everyone to walk the road that I have chosen. It has been a long road and an interesting one, and I sense that it is approaching its end. I had my 101st birthday in January, and that is certainly long enough for anyone.

  That is why I presume to write to you now, because you are the friend of one whom I regard as my son. I have had grave concerns for Herbert West, ever since I compiled and analyzed data about him as part of my Study of Predictions. As a rule, I refrain from revealing my predictions to subjects or those close to them, for fear of influencing their decisions, but in his case I am breaking this rule.

  I speak of his decision to participate in this European war. I think it may be extremely harmful for him to place himself in a situation where violent death is a daily commonplace. I realize that as a surgeon, he is, presumably, on the side of life. Even so, I feel – no, I know – that a situation where many violent deaths occur may create intolerable strains on him, with unfortunate, even disastrous results. Before he can safely enter that borderland, he must undergo experiences that will be painful, even agonizing, but are necessary. I can explain no more now but I ask you to join me in persuading him to return to Arkham as soon as he can. Your presence is necessary for his ultimate well-being, but he does not know this. I do not think you have plans to join him overseas, thus it is especially dangerous for him to remain there.

  Do not abandon your friend. Your fates were linked when you read the Necronomicon together. Three and five, and three times five again, but your returnings will be true. Do you be true also.

  Quarrington

  I did not know what to make of this urgent but irrational plea. West had certainly not consulted me when he decided to go overseas, and I knew him well enough to recognize that any suggestions of mine for him to return would be ignored. And, when all was said and done, had I abandoned him? I thought not; he had not, after all, given me the chance but had abandoned me instead.

 

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