"The throbbing grew louder still.
"Thirty two now, and they had started to fill the cellar with dancing aurora of shimmering lights that pulsed and capered in time with the throb.
"Sixty-four, each a shimmering pearl of black light.
"The colors filled the room, crept around our feet, danced in my eyes, in my head, all though my body.
"A hundred and twenty eight eggs now, and already calving into two hundred and fifty-six.
"By Jove, it was seductive. I had the mysteries of the cosmos right there, close enough to reach out and touch. I cannot tell you chaps how much I wanted to step forward, be part of it and see where it might take me.
"I might even have gone, been lost to you forever, had young Bernard not gripped my arm, and directed my attention to a growing swirl of darkness to our right. Something stood, to one side of the growing mass of black eggs, watching us. I recognized it immediately.
"It was the same manner of beast I had encountered on the Dark Island, the same thing I had seen on the stairs the night before. Another swine thing had manifested itself. This one was most definitely male. White tusks, as sharp as any razor, caught the dancing auras of light from the mass of eggs as it raised a damp snout and snuffled. Below the neck the thing looked superficially like a human, although there were rolls of pink fat in places, and taut sinew and muscle in the shoulders and arms, arms that came to an end not in hands, but in coarse, cloven hooves. The head was squat, almost round, and covered in wiry stubble of coarse hair. Stumpy pointed ears looked too pink, too fleshy. Tiny eyes, like black pearls, were sunk in near shadow above a stubby snout with wide flaring nostrils and those evil tusks, a foot long each, curved back on themselves to end in sharp points that looked capable of impaling the strongest flesh. A caustic, stinging stench permeated the air, causing me to gag as and bring tears to my eyes.
"It came forward towards us, snuffling.
"I showed it the iron bar as I stepped backwards, but it did not slow. I felt Bernard grip tight on my left arm, as if seeking reassurance, but I had none to give him at that moment, for I feared taking my eyes off the beast unless it should immediately launch an attack.
"I stepped back farther, intending to make for the stairs. Bernard was aware enough to move with me, but so too did the beast, coming forward as we retreated. We went on this way for four or five steps in a formalized dance, and I thought we might indeed be able to make the relative safety of the stairs when Bernard gasped.
"Mr. Carnacki, there is another, to your left."
"I saw a darker shadow move out of the corner of my eye at the same time as the evil stench got stronger than ever. My next action was pure instinct, and Arkwright would have been proud of the stroke. I stepped forward as if receiving a slower ball on a bouncing wicket and swung the cold iron like a cricket bat, right at the damnable swine-thing's head.
"I hit nothing more substantial than cold air and dust, but the beast fell apart as if thunderstruck. At the same instant the mass of eggs throbbed, once, and there was an explosion of color and rainbow aurora that dashed near blinded me. I had enough presence of mind to drag young Bernard with me and made for the stairs with all haste.
"A minute later we were back up in the hallway, standing inside the pentacle, our heads reeling as we tried to make some sense out of what had occurred."
*
Carnacki paused in his tale, and indicated it was time for a fresh, or rather, a last, charge of our glasses.
"We are at the crux of the matter now, chaps," he said, "and I am unlikely to want to stop again before the tale is done, so fill your glasses and get some smokes lit. We have to stand in the dark with young Bernard for a time and see him off on his chosen path."
Arkwright looked like he, as usual, had questions, but his earlier blunder in interrupting the story had clearly made him more circumspect now, for he held his peace for once, and it was only minutes before we were all back in our chairs gathered around the fireplace.
Carnacki wasted no time in continuing.
*
"After I ensured that young Bernard was not going collapse into a blue funk, I left him smoking a cigarette and set to switching on the pentacle. It was still only late afternoon, and there was as yet plenty of light coming in the window above the door. But after what we had seen, I felt the desire to be as well protected as I possibly could, despite the threat of the battery not being able to last the distance.
"I took one further precaution. I remembered how the act of modulating the washes of color from the valves had influenced the veil in our previous encounters, so I included in my setup the small rack of switches and dials with which I have most recently been experimenting. I had no idea whether they would prove of any use at all, but it was surely better to have all the tools at my disposal in play.
"I finished my preparations only just in time. In our haste to get back to the pentacle, we had left the door to the basement swinging open, and now the sound from inside there was clear. There was a recurrence of the snuffling, sniffing noise, and a thud, as of heavy footsteps on the stairs.
"We were about to have company."
*
"I switched on the pentacle. Color washed around the hallway in swirls of blue and green, yellow and red, but the shadows in the cellar doorway stayed resolutely dark and black.
"Bernard bent and lifted the iron bar from where I had left it beside the defenses box, but I put a hand on his arm.
"'Stay your hand, lad. We're playing by my rules now,' I said. 'We will be protected inside the circles. Now is not the time for hasty action. Lets us calm ourselves, and see what there is to be seen. We might have a long night ahead of us.'
"He lowered the bar, but kept it hanging in his left hand as he smoked. I got my pipe lit, as the smell of animal came again, and the black shadows swirled in the doorway to the basement. Another shadow grew, back up on the landing at the top of the first flight of stairs, and as that one took form, so too did the one in the doorway solidify and come forward. There was another at its back, and another after that.
"It was only a matter of a minute before we had half a dozen of the stocky swine things in the hallway with us, all circling the pentacle, sniffing and snuffling and snorting. Each looked the double of the other. There was nothing to tell them apart, save possibly that the one that came first up the stairs had a slightly larger head and a longer set of tusks. I took note of the fact that they all appeared to shy away when they got closer to the front door, as if disturbed by the extra light coming in there from above. I bent to my box of tricks and turned the power up in the yellow valve, which immediately flared brighter.
"The response was immediate. The beasts backed away, both from the doorway, and from the brightly shining valve, and now cowered in a tight bunch by the stairwell, as if unsure of their next move. To be on the safe side, I turned up all the valves. The battery would drain all the faster for it of course, but whatever I was doing, it was working for the moment.
"Then I made a mistake. I pushed the power up farther, and at the same time set the valves to pulse, rotating the brightness in phases through the colors, sending washes of blue and yellow and green all through the hallway. But I had been too hasty. I should have rested on my laurels, for the washing color, instead of repelling the swine things, only served to enrage them and, as one, they charged forward and threw themselves at our defenses.
"Now at this point, of course, Arkwright would have taken up the cold iron and leapt into the fray swinging. But he is made of sterner stuff than I, and I stood, side by side with my young friend, as the beasts charged against the wall being provided by the pentacle and the circles.
"Light blazed and sparked from the valves as the swine things attacked, again, and again, heads down like squat bulls, testing their horns against the defenses.
"Bernard's knuckles went white where he gripped the cold iron, and I saw the nervous tension build in him as the attacks gre
w ever more frenzied. But the pentacle held, and the beasts finally relented and retreated once more into their huddle by the foot of the stairs, as if intent on conversing on a fresh course of action.
"I took the opportunity to return the valves to sending out soft washes rather than pulses of color, and that did indeed take much of the tension out of the situation. The beasts went quiet and still, and took to a watching brief.
"It appeared that we had reached an impasse."
*
"I must admit that young Bernard was taking matters with rather more aplomb and calm that I might have expected. He was indeed tense, but then, so was I. When he put the iron bar down on top of the box and lit a fresh cigarette there was no discernible tremble in his fingers.
"I was about to compliment him on his manner when I noted he was not looking at me, nor at the swine things at the foot of the stairs, but over my shoulder, toward the doorway of room number one. I turned to check on what had caught his eye.
"There appeared to be sunlight coming under the bottom of the door, but where the light in the window above the main doorway was thin and watery as late afternoon turned toward evening, this was golden, warm and inviting. I could almost feel the heat from it.
"'She is here,' Bernard whispered. He stubbed out his cigarette and clasped the locket he wore tight in his palm. "She is waiting for me."
"He started to move. I grabbed hard at him, preventing him from leaving the circle.
"'You cannot know that. It might be a fresh trick to lull us into a false sense of security.'
"He brushed me aside. He had the advantage both in youth and strength and was able to break away from me easily. He bent and lifted the iron bar again, letting it swing in his left hand.
"'In this matter, you must trust me, Mr. Carnacki. As you have seen the veil before, so I have seen this. This is what was shown to me in Paris, and it is the very reason I am standing here now. My lady awaits me. I must go to her.'
"Before I could do any more to stop him, he stepped out of the circle and over to the door. I expected the swine things to attack at that moment, but they were reluctant to leave the shadows. They even appeared to cower back farther toward the stairs, as if in fear of Bernard. They fell strangely quite and docile, and became even more so when he opened the door and warm sunlight poured out into the hallway from the apartment beyond.
"Bernard spoke, his voice low and soft so that I did not catch his words. And from the room beyond the door, somebody replied, a woman's voice, high and musical. I could not catch her words either, but she sounded almost heart-aching happy.
"The young Frenchman walked into the room and closed the door softly behind him. Sunlight still showed underneath it, but there was no sound, and I was left alone in the hallway with the group of swine things glowering at me from the shadows at the foot of the stairs."
*
"I stood there for the time it took me to smoke a pipe of tobacco, wondering whether I could not have done more to prevent Bernard's rash action, and wondering whether he had even now gone to his doom. There was no sound apart from the occasional snuffle from the beasts, but they appeared to be calmed by the washes of color from the pentacle and showed no inclination to mount another attack. I was however worrying about the drain on my battery. This was the smaller of the pentacles, but it was powered the oldest and least powerful battery that I had.
"I was watching the valves carefully for any sign of dimming when the door of number one opened again, and Bernard came back out into the hallway."
*
"Something had changed in the lad. He looked straighter in the back, much more composed and assured in his manner, and the air of doom and melancholy he had carried with him since we met was completely lifted from his shoulders. When one of the swine things dared to snuffle and grunt, he strode quickly across the hallway, past the pentacle, and got into them with the iron bar with great swinging sweeps to his left and right.
"He wielded the iron as if it were weightless, using it not like a bat as I had earlier, but rather like a great knight of renown would wield a sword. The swine things wailed and snuffled piteously, but there was no escape from the cold iron. They fell apart into shadow and dust at his feet.
"When Bernard turned back to me, he had a broad smile on his face.
"I believe it is safe for you to leave your defenses, Mr. Carnacki. The deal is done and my path is set before me. This is my place now. I am home."
"I heard a giggle, almost girlish, from room number one, then the door swung shut. I stepped out of the pentacle and went over to open it again, hoping to see what he had seen, but the sunlight had gone, and there was once again only another empty apartment beyond."
*
"I was loath to leave it at that. The sun was going down behind the castle outside and it would soon be night again, but young Bernard looked forward to it with something that looked like joy to me.
"'I shall never leave here again,' he told me. 'But if you please, could you leave your box of defenses with me? They may prove useful. I do not think the swine things will bother me now that I am master of the house, but it would be best to be prepared in any case. I have seen how your pentacle is used, and I promise to be in touch should I have any problem I cannot handle.'
"I, in turn, promised to have a word with my sergeant and get him to inform the renovator that he had a buyer for his property. I did not think there would be any problems or delay with Bernard getting his wish to proceed with the purchase with all haste.
"I spent several minutes reassuring myself that I was not going to be leaving the lad in a tight spot, then I bid him goodbye, and went back to the North British, where I had a fine supper and slept like a baby.
"In the morning, I did as I had promised and visited the police station where I spoke to the sergeant and told him that his 'bogle' was gone and, better still, the house had a prospective buyer. He was mightily relieved and thanked me profusely for my efforts.
"On checking out of the hotel, I found that I had a couple of hours to spare before the next train south so I went down to the Grassmarket to check on Bernard and ensure he had survived the night none the worse for wear.
"I did not speak to him, but as I approached the townhouse, I saw him at the doorstep welcoming an elderly lady clad entirely in black. I was close enough to hear his words.
"'Yes, I am the new concierge," he said. "And all who suffer are welcome here. I have number one, but number three is free, should you wish it.'
"I turned away before he could see me, and made my way slowly back to the hotel to pack for home."
*
It took us several seconds to realize that Carnacki's tale was over.
"But what about the bally swine things?" Arkwright almost bellowed.
Carnacki smiled.
"It is probable they are still there, beyond the veil. But Bernard is the master of the house now, and they know it. They will keep their distance, and if they do not, well, he has the pentacle."
"But damn and blast it, Carnacki," Arkwright continued, "this is a rum do; a rum do indeed. Do you mean to tell us you now believe in some form of an afterlife?"
"Not quite," Carnacki replied. "But let us say that I believe that nothing is ever truly lost. There are always possibilities. And when the alternative is the implacable, uncaring, immensity of the void that is the Outer Darkness, then perhaps some comfort can be found in that."
He ushered us to the door and sent us out into the night.
"Now, out you go," he said.
A Night in the Storeroom
For once, I arrived in Cheyne Walk ahead of schedule, and was first to be shown in by my good friend, Carnacki. To my eye, he looked tired, and more than that, he looked fatigued, as if he had been under a great strain of some kind. He waved away my attempt at an amateur medical diagnosis.
"I'm well enough, thank you, Dodgson," he replied. "It's nothing some good company, a hearty suppe
r, and a few glasses of scotch won't cure."
But when he smiled, it did not quite reach his eyes. Indeed, he was so worn out I did not expect a story from him that night, but after the others arrived he perked up. Arkwright monopolized much of the conversation over our meal of steak and fried potatoes, but Carnacki was by no means silent, and at least had some color in his cheeks as he bade us gather round the fire in the parlor to hear of his latest exploits.
But it was as well that it was a quiet night in the street outside, for our friend's voice had lost much of its usual depth and timbre, and at times he barely rose above a whisper. We soon forgot that, however, for as ever, he proved to be a fine storyteller, and we were quickly lost in his tale, gripped as ever by his latest adventure.
*
"My story this week begins in the quietest of places, and ends with a bang," he began. "It all started last Monday. You will remember it was a dreary, miserable kind of day, with low gray skies and interminable drizzle. I was doing my best to avoid the weather, and had been spending the morning in the quiet of the British Museum Library with a table piled high with musty old books. As you can imagine, I was as happy as a pig at a trough.
"My most recent research has been centered on the history and legends in the immediate localities around Grimes Graves and it is turning into a deep, and fascinating area of study. I am sure that there will be a Friday night story or two arising from it in the months to come for you chaps to enjoy. But for now, that is a secondary matter and is not pertinent to the story at hand. I was lost in a medieval transcript of a Roman consul's letters to the Senate when I felt someone arrive at my shoulder.
"I was still looking downward at the books, so I saw his legs and feet first. I knew who it was before I turned and looked up, for the librarian, old Charles Masterson, always wears his carpet slippers in the library, in order that he can pad around while still maintaining the silence necessary for allowing scholars peace and quiet in which to study.
Carnacki: The Edinburgh Townhouse and Other Stories Page 16