"Disgusting!" Twilford said.
"But the Count didn't kill Sir James, did he?" Everard asked eagerly. He had a certain apologetic air, as if he did not entirely want to be against his countryman but liked the gallantry of the situation in spite of the Count's arrogance.
"No, he didn't kill him, though the thrust to his arm could have done so, Sabrina thought, if he had intended it to," Whittenfield said. "Sabrina said that she wanted Sir James out of her life, and to this the Count told Sir James that he had heard the verdict of his wronged spouse. Sir James began to curse roundly, but the Count brought his blade up and warned him that such behavior would not be tolerated. Sir James lapsed into a sullen silence and barely acknowledged his wife's presence. The Count informed him that on his honor—since Sir James was so jealous of it—he must leave within twenty-four hours and take up whatever station he wished with any noble or fighting company east of the Rhine, and he was not to seek out his wife again, either in person or by message. He required Sir James to swear to this, not only by the oaths of the Church but by his sword. Grudgingly, Sir James did this, and then the Count let him go."
"And that's all there was to it? Charles, you disappoint me," Dominick remarked.
"That is not quite all. There is still the matter of the glass," Whittenfield pointed out.
"Ah, yes, the glass," the sixth guest murmured.
"The Count escorted Sabrina back to his house where she had lived for almost three years, and as they walked, he inquired why it was that she had come. She admitted that she feared for him and did not want him to come to hurt. He told her that was highly unlikely, but did not explain further until she asked if it was an alchemical secret that protected him. Again he gave her an equivocal answer, saying that it was something of the sort. Before they entered his house, she confessed to him that she would not refuse him if he wished to pass what remained of the night with her. He told her that he was much moved by this, for women did not often make that request of him, which, in her journal, Sabrina finds amazing, for according to her the Count was a pleasing man, of middle height and compact body, with attractive, slightly irregular features, who was most fastidious about his person and somber in his elegance. Once in the house, the Count led her to the laboratory and lit a branch of candles, then opened a small, red-lacquered cabinet which seemed to be of great age, and removed the glass. It was not in the frame it has now, as I believe I mentioned, but it was rimmed with silver. The Count gave this to Sabrina, telling her that when she could see the spider in the glass, he would come for her. She did not believe this, but he assured her there was the image of a jeweled spider set in the very center of the glass, and that when one stood directly in front of it, under special circumstances, it could be seen."
"Very neat," Dominick approved with a jeering toast of his glass. "I must try that myself, one day."
"Did the poor woman believe that?" Lord Graveston demanded with a shake of his head. "And you have kept that worthless piece of glass?"
"There's a bit more to it," Whittenfield remarked. "Apparently that night the Count did spend some time with Sabrina, and though she does not record what passed between them—"
"It's not difficult to guess," Hamworthy said with marked disapproval.
"I gather that it was not precisely what Sabrina expected. She mentions that the glass was put by the bed and lit with the branch of candles—"
"Really!" Twilford's expression was livid with disapproval.
"Decadent foreigner!" Hamworthy ejaculated.
"And," Whittenfield went on, giving them little attention, "Sabrina says in her journal that for one joyous, incomprehensible moment she could see the spider—that it sat in a fine diamond web, a creature of ruby and garnet and tourmaline. And she was elated at the sight, though she says in a later entry that she does not expect to see it again. She left it to Cesily with the admonition that it be kept in the family as a great treasure."
"A woman's whim for a trinket!" Dominick scoffed.
"It may be. But, as you see, it is still in the family, and no one is willing to part with it. Serena had great faith in it, and she was not given to superstition. I remember her standing here, saying that if it had brought such good fortune to Sabrina we would be fools to be rid of it. My mother wanted to put it away, but it never happened, and I admit that I'm so used to it, I would miss having it. And every now and again I stare at it, hoping to see the spider."
"Oh, Charles," Dominick sneered.
"Did you see anything?" Everard asked.
"Only my face. If there is a spider in it, only a man who cast no reflection could see it," Whittenfield leaned forward and put his glass down.
"Do you mean that after sitting here for well nigh two hours, you have the effrontery to offer us nothing more than a third-rate ghost story?" Hamworthy demanded.
"Well, that is the story of the glass, as it's put down in Sabrina's journal. She returned to England and set herself up well, saying that she had been given a legacy that made this possible. And you will admit that whoever her Count was, he was something of an original."
"If you look into it, you'll find he was just another charlatan," Lord Graveston said with confidence. "Generous, it seems, but nonetheless a charlatan."
"Why do you believe that?" the sixth guest asked him. There was no challenge in the question, just a certain curiosity.
"It's obvious," Lord Graveston said, rising. "Well, if that's all you're giving us, Whittenfield, I'll take myself off to bed. Excellent port and brandy." He made his way through the room and out the door.
Peter Hamworthy groaned as he got to his feet. "The hour is very late and I like to rise early. I had no idea how long this would be. It's what comes of telling stories about females." As he went to the door he made a point not to look in the direction of the Spider Glass.
"I'm for the billiard room, if anyone cares to join me," Dominick said, staring at Everard. "You may come and do your best to . . . beat me, if you like."
Everard was suddenly nervous. "I . . . in a moment, Dominick." He turned toward his host. "I thought it was a good tale. I don't understand about the mirror, but . . ." On that inconclusive note he left the room in Dominick's wake.
"Whittenfield, that was the damnedest farrago you spun us," Twilford admonished him. "Why did you begin it?"
"You asked about the glass, that's all." Whittenfield had got to his feet and stood, a little unsteadily, beside his Queen Anne chair.
"Then I was an ass to do so." He turned on his heel and stalked majestically from the room.
The sixth guest turned his dark, ironic eyes on Whittenfield. "I found your story most . . . salutary. I had no idea . . ." He got up and went toward the old mirror as if compelled to do so. He touched the glass with his small, beautiful hand, smiling faintly.
Glistening in the mirror, the spider hung in its jeweled web. The body was red as rubies or fresh blood. The eight, finely-made legs were garnet at the joints and tourmaline elsewhere. It was delicate as a dancer, and though the mirror had faded over the years, the Count could still take pride in his work. Beyond the image of the spider the muted lamps of the Oak Parlor shone like amber in the glass.
For, of course, le Comte de Saint-Germain had no reflection at all.
Table of Contents
Introduction
THE MAN WHO WOULD NOT SHAKE HANDS by Stephen King
YOURS,—GUY by Robert F. Young
THE BELONGING KIND by John Shirley and William Gibson
CALLING COLLECT by Barry N. Malzberg and Arthur L. Samuels
HEARING IS BELIEVING by Ramsey Campbell
THRESHOLD by Deirdre L. Kugelmeyer
A VISIT TO BRIGHTON by Alan Ryan
ECHOES FROM A DARKENED SHORE by Cherie Wilkerson
THE BLUE CHAIR by Tabitha King
MEOW by Tanith Lee
THE GIVEAWAY by Steve Rasnic Tem
NEED by Lisa Tuttle
WAITING FOR THE KNIGHT by Beverly Evans
UNDER MY BED by Al Sarrantonio
THE HOUR OF SILHOUETTE by Juleen Brantingham
SNOW, COBWEBS, AND DUST by John Keefauver
THE SPIDER GLASS by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Shadows 4 Page 22