TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Algernon Blackwood Collection
The Centaur
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XXVIII
XXIX
XXX
XXXI
XXXII
XXXIII
XXXIV
XXXV
XXXVI
XXXVII
XXXVIII
XXXIX
XL
XLI
XLII
XLIII
XLIV
XLV
XLVI
Jimbo: A Fantasy
CHAPTER I: “RABBITS”
CHAPTER II: MISS LAKE COMES—AND GOES
CHAPTER III: THE SHOCK
CHAPTER IV: ON THE EDGE OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS
CHAPTER V: INTO THE EMPTY HOUSE
CHAPTER VI: HIS COMPANION IN PRISON
CHAPTER VII: THE SPELL OF THE EMPTY HOUSE
CHAPTER VIII: THE GALLERY OF ANCIENT MEMORIES
CHAPTER IX: THE MEANS OF ESCAPE
CHAPTER X: THE PLUNGE
CHAPTER XI: THE FIRST FLIGHT
CHAPTER XII: THE FOUR WINDS
CHAPTER XIII: PLEASURES OF FLIGHT
CHAPTER XIV: AN ADVENTURE
CHAPTER XV: THE CALL OF THE BODY
CHAPTER XVI: PREPARATION
CHAPTER XVII: OFF!
CHAPTER XVIII: HOME
The Human Chord
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
A Prisoner in Fairyland
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX
CHAPTER XXXI
CHAPTER XXXII
CHAPTER XXXIII
CHAPTER XXXIV
The Extra Day
CHAPTER I: THE MATERIAL
CHAPTER II: FANCY—SEED OF WONDER
CHAPTER III: DEATH OF A MERE FACT
CHAPTER IV: FACT—EDGED WITH FANCY
CHAPTER V: THE BIRTH OF WONDER
CHAPTER VI: THE GROWTH OF WONDER
CHAPTER VII: IMAGINATION WAKES
CHAPTER VIII: WHERE WONDER HIDES
CHAPTER IX: A PRIEST OF WONDER
CHAPTER X: FACT AND WONDER—CLASH
CHAPTER XI: JUDY’S PARTICULAR ADVENTURE
CHAPTER XII: TIM’S PARTICULAR ADVENTURE
CHAPTER XIII: TIME HESITATES
CHAPTER XIV: MARIA STIRS
CHAPTER XV: “A DAY WILL COME”
CHAPTER XVI: TIME HALTS
CHAPTER XVII: A DAY HAS COME, MARIA’S PARTICULAR ADVENTURE
THE EXTRA DAY
THE STRANGER WHO IS WONDER
HIDE-AND-SEEK
THE LEADER
THE COMMON SIGNS
COME-BACK STUMPER’S SIGN
WEEDEN’S SIGN
AUNT EMILY FINDS—HERSELF
SIGNS EVERYWHERE!
REALITY
CHAPTER XVIII: TIME GOES ON AGAIN—-
CHAPTER XIX: —AS USUAL
CHAPTER XX: —BUT DIFFERENTLY!
Julius Levallon: An Episode
Book 1: Schooldays
Chapter i
Chapter ii
Chapter iii
Chapter iv
Chapter v
Chapter vi
Chapter vii
Chapter viii
Book 2: Edinburgh
Chapter ix
Chapter x
Chapter xi
Chapter xii
Chapter xiii
Chapter xiv
Book 3: The Chalet in the Jura Mountains
Chapter xv
Chapter xvi
Chapter xvii
Chapter xviii
Chapter xix
Chapter xx
Chapter xxi
Chapter xxii
Chapter xxiii
Chapter xxiv
Book 4: The Attempted Restitution
Chapter xxv
Chapter xxvi
Chapter xxvii
Chapter xxviii
Chapter xxix
Chapter xxx
Chapter xxxi
Chapter xxxii
The Bright Messenger
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
The Wave: An Egyptian Aftermath
Part I
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
PART II
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
PART III
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
PART IV
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The Promise of Air
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Garden of Survival
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
The Willows
I
II
III
The Wendigo
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
The Damned
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
The Man Whom the Trees Loved
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
The Insanity of Jones
The Man Who Found Out
The Glamour of the Snow
Sand
CASE I: A PSYCHICAL INVASION
CASE II: ANCIENT SORCERIES
CASE III: THE NEMESIS OF FIRE
Three More John Silence Stories
CASE I: SECRET WORSHIP
CASE II: THE CAMP OF THE DOG
CASE III: A VICTIM OF HIGHER SPACE
The Empty House and Other Ghost Stories
THE EMPTY HOUSE
A HAUNTED ISLAND
A CASE OF EAVESDROPPING
KEEPING HIS PROMISE
WITH INTENT TO STEAL
THE WOOD OF THE DEAD
SMITH: AN EPISODE IN A LODGING-HOUSE
A SUSPICIOUS GIFT
THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PRIVATE SECRETARY IN NEW YORK
SKELETON LAKE: AN EPISODE IN CAMP
The Empty House and Other Ghost Stories
THE EMPTY HOUSE
A HAUNTED ISLAND
A CASE OF EAVESDROPPING
KEEPING HIS PROMISE
WITH INTENT TO STEAL
THE WOOD OF THE DEAD
SMITH: AN EPISODE IN A LODGING-HOUSE
A SUSPICIOUS GIFT
THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PRIVATE SECRETARY IN NEW YORK
SKELETON LAKE: AN EPISODE IN CAMP
THE TRYST
THE TOUCH OF PAN
THE WINGS OF HORUS
INITIATION
A DESERT EPISODE
THE OTHER WING
THE OCCUPANT OF THE ROOM
CAIN’S ATONEMENT
AN EGYPTIAN HORNET
BY WATER
H. S. H.
A BIT OF WOOD
TRANSITION
THE TRADITION
THE WOLVES OF GOD
CHINESE MAGIC
RUNNING WOLF
FIRST HATE
THE TARN OF SACRIFICE
THE VALLEY OF THE BEASTS
THE CALL
EGYPTIAN SORCERY
THE DECOY
THE MAN WHO FOUND OUT
THE EMPTY SLEEVE
WIRELESS CONFUSION
CONFESSION
THE LANE THAT RAN EAST AND WEST
“VENGEANCE IS MINE”
THE ALGERNON BLACKWOOD COLLECTION
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THE CENTAUR
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I
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“WE MAY BE IN THE Universe as dogs and cats are in our libraries, seeing the books and hearing the conversation, but having no inkling of the meaning of it all.”
—WILLIAM JAMES, A Pluralistic Universe
“… A man’s vision is the great fact about him. Who cares for Carlyle’s reasons, or Schopenhauer’s, or Spencer’s? A philosophy is the expression of a man’s intimate character, and all definitions of the Universe are but the deliberately adopted reactions of human characters upon it.”
—Ibid
“There are certain persons who, independently of sex or comeliness, arouse an instant curiosity concerning themselves. The tribe is small, but its members unmistakable. They may possess neither fortune, good looks, nor that adroitness of advance-vision which the stupid name good luck; yet there is about them this inciting quality which proclaims that they have overtaken Fate, set a harness about its neck of violence, and hold bit and bridle in steady hands.
“Most of us, arrested a moment by their presence to snatch the definition their peculiarity exacts, are aware that on the heels of curiosity follows—envy. They know the very things that we forever seek in vain. And this diagnosis, achieved as it were en passant, comes near to the truth, for the hallmark of such persons is that they have found, and come into, their own. There is a sign upon the face and in the eyes. Having somehow discovered the ‘piece’ that makes them free of the whole amazing puzzle, they know where they belong and, therefore, whither they are bound: more, they are definitely en route. The littlenesses of existence that plague the majority pass them by.
“For this reason, if for no other,” continued O’Malley, “I count my experience with that man as memorable beyond ordinary. ‘If for no other,’ because from the very beginning there was another. Indeed, it was probably his air of unusual bigness, massiveness rather,—head, face, eyes, shoulders, especially back and shoulders,—that struck me first when I caught sight of him lounging there hugely upon my steamer deck at Marseilles, winning my instant attention before he turned and the expression on his great face woke more—woke curiosity, interest, envy. He wore this very look of certainty that knows, yet with a tinge of mild surprise as though he had only recently known. It was less than perplexity. A faint astonishment as of a happy child—almost of an animal—shone in the large brown eyes—”
“You mean that the physical quality caught you first, then the psychical?” I asked, keeping him to the point, for his Irish imagination was ever apt to race away at a tangent.
He laughed good-naturedly, acknowledging the check. “I believe that to be the truth,” he replied, his face instantly grave again. “It was the impression of uncommon bulk that heated my intuition—blessed if I know how—leading me to the other. The size of his body did not smother, as so often is the case with big people: rather, it revealed. At the moment I could conceive no possible connection, of course. Only this overwhelming attraction of the man’s personality caught me and I longed to make friends. That’s the way with me, as you know,” he added, tossing the hair back from his forehead impatiently,"—pretty often. First impressions. Old man, I tell you, it was like a possession.”
“I believe you,” I said. For Terence O’Malley all his life had never understood half measures.
II
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“THE FRIENDLY AND FLOWING SAVAGE, who is he? Is he waiting for civilization, or is he past it, and mastering it?”
—WHITMAN
“We find ourselves today in the midst of a somewhat peculiar state of society, which we call Civilization, but which even to the most optimistic among us does not seem altogether desirable. Some of us, indeed, are inclined to think that it is a kind of disease which the various races of man have to pass through….
“While History tells us of many nations that have been attacked by it, of many that have succumbed to it, and of some that are still in the throes of it, we know of no single case in which a nation has fairly recovered from and passed through it to a more normal and healthy condition. In other words, the development of human society has never yet (that we know of) passed
beyond a certain definite and apparently final stage in the process we call Civilization; at that stage it has always succumbed or been arrested.”
—EDWARD CARPENTER, Civilization: Its Cause and Cure
O’Malley himself is an individuality that invites consideration from the ruck of commonplace men. Of mingled Irish, Scotch, and English blood, the first predominated, and the Celtic element in him was strong. A man of vigorous health, careless of gain, a wanderer, and by his own choice something of an outcast, he led to the end the existence of a rolling stone. He lived from hand to mouth, never quite growing up. It seemed, indeed, that he never could grow up in the accepted sense of the term, for his motto was the reverse of nil admirari, and he found himself in a state of perpetual astonishment at the mystery of things. He was forever deciphering the huge horoscope of Life, yet getting no further than the House of Wonder, on whose cusp surely he had been born. Civilization, he loved to say, had blinded the eyes of men, filling them with dust instead of vision.
An ardent lover of wild outdoor life, he knew at times a high, passionate searching for things of the spirit, when the outer world fell away like dross and he seemed to pass into a state resembling ecstasy. Never in cities or among his fellow men, struggling and herded, did these times come to him, but when he was abroad with the winds and stars in desolate places. Then, sometimes, he would be rapt away, caught up to see the tail-end of the great procession of the gods that had come near. He surprised Eternity in a running Moment.
For the moods of Nature flamed through him—in him—like presences, potently evocative as the presences of persons, and with meanings equally various: the woods with love and tenderness; the sea with reverence and magic; plains and wide horizons with the melancholy peace and silence as of wise and old companions; and mountains with a splendid terror due to some want of comprehension in himself, caused probably by a spiritual remoteness from their mood.
The Cosmos, in a word, for him was psychical, and Nature’s moods were transcendental cosmic activities that induced in him these singular states of exaltation and expansion. She pushed wide the gateways of his deeper life. She entered, took possession, dipped his smaller self into her own enormous and enveloping personality.
He possessed a full experience, and at times a keen judgment, of modern life; while underneath, all the time, lay the moving sea of curiously wild primitive instincts. An insatiable longing for the wilderness was in his blood, a craving vehement, unappeasable. Yet for something far greater than the wilderness alone—the wilderness was merely a symbol, a first step, indication of a way of escape. The hurry and invention of modern life were to him a fever and a torment. He loathed the million tricks of civilization. At the same time, being a man of some discrimination at least, he rarely let himself go completely. Of these wilder, simpler instincts he was afraid. They might flood all else. If he yielded entirely, something he dreaded, without being able to define, would happen; the structure of his being would suffer a nameless violence, so that he would have to break with the world. These cravings stood for that loot of the soul which he must deny himself. Complete surrender would involve somehow a disintegration, a dissociation of his personality that carried with it the loss of personal identity.
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