_XXIV_
THE FOOTSTEPS IN THE GARDEN
Pepper is dead! Even now, at times, I seem scarcely able to realizethat this is so. It is many weeks, since I came back from that strangeand terrible journey through space and time. Sometimes, in my sleep, Idream about it, and go through, in imagination, the whole of thatfearsome happening. When I wake, my thoughts dwell upon it. ThatSun--those Suns, were they indeed the great Central Suns, 'round whichthe whole universe, of the unknown heavens, revolves? Who shall say? Andthe bright globules, floating forever in the light of the Green Sun! Andthe Sea of Sleep on which they float! How unbelievable it all is. If itwere not for Pepper, I should, even after the many extraordinary thingsthat I have witnessed, be inclined to imagine that it was but a giganticdream. Then, there is that dreadful, dark nebula (with its multitudes ofred spheres) moving always within the shadow of the Dark Sun, sweepingalong on its stupendous orbit, wrapped eternally in gloom. And the facesthat peered out at me! God, do they, and does such a thing reallyexist? ... There is still that little heap of grey ash, on my studyfloor. I will not have it touched.
At times, when I am calmer, I have wondered what became of the outerplanets of the Solar System. It has occurred to me, that they may havebroken loose from the sun's attraction, and whirled away into space.This is, of course, only a surmise. There are so many things, aboutwhich I wonder.
Now that I am writing, let me record that I am certain, there issomething horrible about to happen. Last night, a thing occurred, whichhas filled me with an even greater terror, than did the Pit fear. I willwrite it down now, and, if anything more happens, endeavor to make anote of it, at once. I have a feeling, that there is more in this lastaffair, than in all those others. I am shaky and nervous, even now, as Iwrite. Somehow, I think death is not very far away. Not that I feardeath--as death is understood. Yet, there is that in the air, which bidsme fear--an intangible, cold horror. I felt it last night. Itwas thus:--
Last night, I was sitting here in my study, writing. The door, leadinginto the garden, was half open. At times, the metallic rattle of a dog'schain, sounded faintly. It belongs to the dog I have bought, sincePepper's death. I will not have him in the house--not after Pepper.Still, I have felt it better to have a dog about the place. They arewonderful creatures.
I was much engrossed in my work, and the time passed, quickly.Suddenly, I heard a soft noise on the path, outside in the garden--pad,pad, pad, it went, with a stealthy, curious sound. I sat upright, with aquick movement, and looked out through the opened door. Again the noisecame--pad, pad, pad. It appeared to be approaching. With a slightfeeling of nervousness, I stared into the gardens; but the night hideverything.
Then the dog gave a long howl, and I started. For a minute, perhaps, Ipeered, intently; but could hear nothing. After a little, I picked upthe pen, which I had laid down, and recommenced my work. The nervousfeeling had gone; for I imagined that the sound I had heard, was nothingmore than the dog walking 'round his kennel, at the length of his chain.
A quarter of an hour may have passed; then, all at once, the dog howledagain, and with such a plaintively sorrowful note, that I jumped to myfeet, dropping my pen, and inking the page on which I was at work.
'Curse that dog!' I muttered, noting what I had done. Then, even as Isaid the words, there sounded again that queer--pad, pad, pad. It washorribly close--almost by the door, I thought. I knew, now, that itcould not be the dog; his chain would not allow him to come so near.
The dog's growl came again, and I noted, subconsciously, the taint offear in it.
Outside, on the windowsill, I could see Tip, my sister's pet cat. As Ilooked, it sprang to its feet, its tail swelling, visibly. For aninstant it stood thus; seeming to stare, fixedly, at something, in thedirection of the door. Then, quickly, it began to back along the sill;until, reaching the wall at the end, it could go no further. There itstood, rigid, as though frozen in an attitude of extraordinary terror.
Frightened, and puzzled, I seized a stick from the corner, and wenttoward the door, silently; taking one of the candles with me. I had cometo within a few paces of it, when, suddenly, a peculiar sense of fearthrilled through me--a fear, palpitant and real; whence, I knew not, norwhy. So great was the feeling of terror, that I wasted no time; butretreated straight-way--walking backward, and keeping my gaze,fearfully, on the door. I would have given much, to rush at it, fling itto, and shoot the bolts; for I have had it repaired and strengthened,so that, now, it is far stronger than ever it has been. Like Tip, Icontinued my, almost unconscious, progress backward, until the wallbrought me up. At that, I started, nervously, and glanced 'round,apprehensively. As I did so, my eyes dwelt, momentarily, on the rack offirearms, and I took a step toward them; but stopped, with a curiousfeeling that they would be needless. Outside, in the gardens, the dogmoaned, strangely.
Suddenly, from the cat, there came a fierce, long screech. I glanced,jerkily, in its direction--Something, luminous and ghostly, encircledit, and grew upon my vision. It resolved into a glowing hand,transparent, with a lambent, greenish flame flickering over it. The catgave a last, awful caterwaul, and I saw it smoke and blaze. My breathcame with a gasp, and I leant against the wall. Over that part of thewindow there spread a smudge, green and fantastic. It hid the thing fromme, though the glare of fire shone through, dully. A stench of burning,stole into the room.
Pad, pad, pad--Something passed down the garden path, and a faint,mouldy odor seemed to come in through the open door, and mingle with theburnt smell.
The dog had been silent for a few moments. Now, I heard him yowl,sharply, as though in pain. Then, he was quiet, save for an occasional,subdued whimper of fear.
A minute went by; then the gate on the West side of the gardens,slammed, distantly. After that, nothing; not even the dog's whine.
I must have stood there some minutes. Then a fragment of courage stoleinto my heart, and I made a frightened rush at the door, dashed it to,and bolted it. After that, for a full half-hour, I sat,helpless--staring before me, rigidly.
Slowly, my life came back into me, and I made my way, shakily,up-stairs to bed.
That is all.
The House on the Borderland Page 25