Powers of Darkness

by Hans De Roos

  As far as I could follow, it was Darwin’s law fluttering vaguely through the Count’s mind, but he had adapted it in his own way.151

  While we were discussing this, he doused the lights in the portrait gallery with a long extinguisher, and we left the room in the faint moonlight. I had managed to regain my full composure and was in a serene mood when we came down the stairs and entered into the courtyard, but then I clearly heard someone walking close to us. I turned, but the sound of footsteps seemed to move farther away, and I saw no more than a glimpse of a short, stocky man suddenly disappearing through one of the doors to the corridor.152

  The count was walking ahead of me, holding the light. “What is wrong, my friend?” he asked. “Why have you stopped?”

  “It’s nothing—just that I heard footsteps behind us,” I said, “and I thought I saw someone slip through the door over there, by the corridor.”

  It occurred to me that although my bedroom faces the direction of the corridor, I had never heard anyone enter or wander around in it.

  “A man walking here?” he asked. “You must be kidding. No one is here. It was probably just the echo of our footsteps and your own shadow.”

  “But I saw it with my own eyes …”

  “I can assure you, my friend, that no living creature sets foot in here at this hour—unless it was old Natra, but she never comes this way.153 You said yourself that you do not believe in ghosts.”

  “Yes, but here one might be led to believe differently,” I said.

  “What you saw was nothing more than a trick of the senses,” said the Count.

  When we reached the living room, everything was prepared as usual: The candles were lit and the dishes were set on the table. The Count invited me to dine, but he said that he himself didn’t have an appetite, as he usually does not sup so late. I haven’t seen him touch any food since I arrived, but as the master of this estate he should be able to have his meals whenever he wants, and it would be consistent with his usual manners that he would prefer to eat by himself.

  “With your permission, I will sit here while you eat,” he said, taking a seat by the fireplace. “I would like to practice my English.”

  Yes, that would explain why he is so talkative with me. His English has progressed a great deal in these past few days. I’ve noticed that he has an unusually sensitive ear for languages, as he corrects his pronunciation as soon as he hears that mine is different.

  When I finished my dinner I seated myself in the chair opposite him.

  “What you said earlier in the hallway reminded me of something,” he said. “The superstitious cowards here in the surrounding countryside maintain that this castle I live in is full of spectres and evil spirits, because of how rich its history is—because here, there is much to remember from the past that the general public does not get to know. I struggle to find workmen, even if I offer higher pay, because they are simply too frightened. These poor wretches. I know that in the big city of London such superstitious views are not adhered to, but I still feel that it is best for your health to always stay inside after dark. The evening air is detrimental to you, and you may see or hear things that you don’t understand. I only hope that you are comfortable and well here and that you will stay with me for a few weeks—as I have said before. I wouldn’t take it kindly if you were to leave before I feel it is time for you to depart. I hope that you stay here with me for one more month, from this date on.”154

  Staying here for so long didn’t suit me at all, but I didn’t have the courage to say so. So instead I mentioned my employer, Mr. Hawkins.

  “I will let him know. In fact, I have asked him for his permission already,” he said sternly. “Yes, you will stay. There are many things to be found in my library, including works of art—but no ghosts,” he said, laughing heartily. “As I have told you, these superstitious people talk about a white-clad woman wandering about the castle, but it is none other than the poor young girl whom you’ve already met, living upstairs”—he pointed up to the ceiling—“and she is rumored to appear when danger lurks. Still, I ask that you remember if you ever see any glimpse of white that it is no ghost, only her. She truly is dazzling enough to be dangerous, but not to you. She has, as I have told you, bats in the belfry, believing she is the noble lady whom she resembles in the portrait. She wanders around the castle looking for her cavalier. It is sad, but then again, it is also amusing.”

  He spoke with such arrogant airs that I could barely stand to listen to him, so in an effort to say something I asked him whether his mentally disturbed relative155 would accompany him to London.

  “No, no! Don’t even let that idea cross your mind. As captivating as she is, she could easily end up in the claws of a Casanova, as you call them—I have read about them in your books as well.156 It would be a risk to take her to London. It’s more suitable for her to stay here at home, in this secluded place. Don’t you think so?”

  I said something to the effect of him knowing what the best arrangement would be in regard to this matter.

  “Of course,” he said, “but now it is nearly twelve o’clock. I can no longer rob you of your sleep and also have a few letters to write. Good night, my friend, sleep well and long.”

  Fjallkonan #17 | 2 May 1900

  THE NEXT EVENING157 THE COUNT ASKED ME, “Have you not written to your employer, that fine old gentleman Mr. Peter Hawkins, or anyone else since you came here?”

  I told him truthfully that I had not done so, for I didn’t know how I would send such letters.

  He shrugged and stroked his moustache, saying,

  “Yes, we here in the mountains lack many of the luxuries that you have in your splendid London. It is a long way from here to Borgo,158 and unfortunately I do not have many servants to run errands for me, but if you write them this evening—I also happen to have many letters to write—I will take care of them all in one go. Please write, my friend,” he said, resting his hand firmly on my shoulder. “Write to Mr. Peter Hawkins and anyone else you like. Tell them that you feel comfortable here, as I hope you do, and that you are going to stay here for the period we have agreed upon.”

  I made a final attempt to escape sooner from his custody.

  “You trouble yourself too much for my sake,” I said. “Do you really want me to stay for so long? I am afraid that you will be bored to death having me here.” I tried to sound as if I were making a joke.

  “I have already told you, and so it still stands,” he replied in such a steely tone that it felt useless to make any further objections. “When your employer made his arrangement with me regarding your trip here, the intention was, of course, to have my interests taken care of—and that my needs would come first and foremost. As you will come to see, I don’t ask for favors that I would not readily return.”

  I bowed in silence. I hadn’t heard him speak in this fashion before, and I cannot deny that I was growing irritated.159 But then he immediately changed his demeanor, saying,

  “I did not expect that my friend’s assistant would be so much to my liking, as you have turned out to be. You will have to excuse my stubbornness and grant me the pleasure of your stay.”

  I bowed again. How could I protest? I was—and am—convinced that although he is a man of great intellect, he must be a bit unhinged, and perhaps even dangerous when something is done against his will. Given my current circumstances, I better avoid disobeying him. It would also be in my employer’s best interest for me to give in to his wishes.

  I wrote to Wilma, my fiancée, telling her more or less that I felt comfortable here, and that the Count’s castle was pleasurable. I also told her that the Count had asked me to stay with him for a few more weeks.

  I wrote another letter to my boss, informing him that the Count seemed happy with the real estate purchase and that he wanted me to stay with him at the castle for a while longer.

  When I finished my letters the Count sat down at the table in the chair I’d been sitting in and began to write h
is own, while I read a book. However, I couldn’t help but glance to see whom the Count’s letters were addressed to. I found that the intended recipients included Samuel Billington in Whitby,160 Seutner’s shipping company in Varna,161 Coret’s Bank in London,162 and Klopstock’s Bank163 in Vienna. When he was finished writing the Count collected all the letters and set off, bidding me farewell.

  “I have several things to take care of tonight and hope that you will excuse me for saying good night earlier than usual. I hope that you have enough here to keep yourself entertained until you go to bed,” he said, pointing to the bookcase. “The food is on the table, but I am in a hurry.”

  From the way his eyes flickered and his lips trembled, I could tell that he was excited about something. This surprised me, as until then he’d seemed to be in such a balanced mood.

  10 MAY

  LOOKING THROUGH MY JOURNAL ENTRY FROM YESTERDAY, I realize that I have been long-winded. Therefore I’m determined to be more concise from now on.164

  I went to bed early last night, extinguishing the lights not long after midnight. It felt as though I had just drifted off to sleep when it started growing light out and I was suddenly awoken by a sound from outside. It was like the sound of a dying person; a loud cry at first, but then it gradually got weaker. Fully awake now, I sat up in bed and a cold sweat broke out all over my body. I could still hear the scream echo in my head. In one sweep, I threw on my clothes and rushed to the window. I had forgotten to let the shutters down the night before, and when I opened the window the cool air flowed in.165

  I could vaguely make out the first trace of early sunrise in the east, but fog lay over the ground, so nothing could be seen. I peered out the window as far as I could and listened. The air was cold and damp, and through the thick brume I could just make out the outlines of the castle walls a little farther away. After standing at the window for nearly half an hour, I heard a shuffling noise out in the darkness. It sounded as though something was creeping along the outside of the castle wall—perhaps on a ledge,166 which had either been built for decoration or simply marked the transition between the lower and upper levels of the castle. As it moved closer, I saw that it was a human form, wrapped in a long grey coat, with a sort of hood over his head. He crawled on hands and feet, like a cat, along the narrow ledge, but after some time he disappeared, as if he had slipped through a crack in the wall or climbed into a window.167

  In a desperate hurry I closed the window and let down the shutters.

  After lighting the candles in my room, I was able to steel my nerves and calm down a bit. I shivered from the cold, so I went straight for my hip flask and took a mouthful of cognac. It wouldn’t be funny if I became ill here. Then I checked whether the door was locked and made sure that the revolver was loaded. I laid it on the bedside table and got back under the blankets.

  If I’d seen something like this in London—a strangely dressed man creeping cautiously along a gutter—my only thought would be to fetch the nearest police officer and, with his help, find out whether this was some unfortunate sleepwalker or an unconventional burglar, and then make sure he be taken into custody. But as a stranger here, I have no idea what to do. I don’t know my way around the castle—in fact, I don’t even know where the Count sleeps! I also suspect that, save for the two of us, not a single living soul would be found in this part of the house. I considered the risk of making a commotion to wake the Count, so that I could tell him what I’d witnessed, but I wasn’t certain he’d take kindly to such a disturbance. I decided it was wisest to try to keep myself safe with the means I had at hand and to pretend that everything was fine—keeping hold of my emotions.

  Fjallkonan #18 | 8 May 1900

  IINTENDED TO KEEP WATCH AND NOT FALL BACK ASLEEP, but I dozed off all the same and didn’t wake up until ten o’clock, when the sun was already shining brightly outside. I opened the window and inhaled the refreshing spring air with its forest fragrance; with daylight’s arrival, the terror of the previous night had vanished. I could have told myself that what I’d seen in the night was all a dream, had the burned-down candle and revolver on the table not been silent witnesses. I leaned out of the window to get a better look at the surrounding landscape, and it became even clearer to me that the castle was built on a large rock, with nothing but cliffs reaching up all but one of its sides. This would have made this stronghold impenetrable in former times.

  I saw that there were towers on the right and left sides of the castle. The tower to my right was in good shape, but the one to my left was dilapidated. Many of its walls are covered with cracks and its roof has collapsed. The human figure I saw the night before had come from this part of the castle.168

  I leaned even farther out the window and saw large rocks on the ground down below. They had probably plummeted from the surrounding cliffs. Farther out from the rocks I could see shrubbery and forest, but in the distance beyond the trees there were only bare mountains. I spotted two or three solitary farms farther away, but otherwise there was no human habitation or signs of civilization to be seen.

  I sheltered my eyes from the sun with my hand so that it wouldn’t hinder my sight. Then my eyes fell upon something white in the bushes to my left. I thought it might be laundry spread out to dry and I took out my pocket telescope to get a better look. But then I saw that it was a human being! He or she was lying on their back, hands and feet stretched out, and seemed to be sleeping there in the bushes. As I hadn’t seen a living soul outside the castle since I arrived, I was glad to see another person here. I lifted up the spyglass and looked again—but then I sank down in the chair next to me, shivering with horror. I didn’t want to see more.

  It was a woman—still a young girl, in fact. I saw her as if she had been right next to me. She had a pleasant face and a shapely figure. She was dead. Her head was bent backwards and was halfway sunken into the moss. Her black hair was loose, as if someone had torn at it, and her mouth and eyes were wide open—her expression reflected nothing but great fear. Her clothes had been ripped open across the breast, so that her neck and bosom were bare, and there on her throat was an open wound. Blood had flowed from it down her shoulders, drenching her clothes. She was wearing coarse white woollen garb, like the women in this country do. Her arms were stretched out, as if she had dug her hands into the moss in agony.169

  After a few minutes, I looked through my monocular again to make sure that I hadn’t been mistaken.

  Everything was as just described.

  This must be the reason for the cry of distress I had heard. But how could this horrible thing have happened? I wondered if the wolves had done it, as there are so many of them in the woods. But the Count had told me that they don’t attack humans—especially not at this time of year, when they have enough prey to catch in the forest.

  Or had this girl been murdered?

  Wolves would hardly have left her like that, but a murderer might have.170 She was half hidden in the bushes, and there were no real roads nearby.

  I grabbed my hat, put the revolver in my pocket, and made to rush out to where the body lay; there had to be some path along the rock that would lead me there.

  I ran down the stairs to exit the building, but as I reached the entrance hall, I remembered that I hadn’t placed a foot outside the castle walls since my arrival here. Because I had slept so much during the day and the Count had spent so much time with me at night to improve his English, I hadn’t once been outside the castle’s enclosure.

  I tried opening the gate but it was closed shut and there was no key in the lock. I looked around for the key, but it was nowhere to be found. I tried to force open the gate, but to no avail.

  The entrance hall is large and there are doors leading in many different directions. I tried opening every one of them but they were all firmly locked.

  As a free man, I’m not accustomed to having my movement restrained. But now I realized I was a prisoner in this castle.

  Already earlier I’d wanted to roam
the castle grounds, with no plan as to what I’d do outside. But now that I had seen the girl’s body, I could think of nothing else but to get to her and—if possible—try to help, call for assistance, and with the support of the authorities seek out the murderer. That is: I wanted to do what any civilized man would do in my situation. But only now did I realize what that situation actually was. I thought back on everything I had seen and heard here, and now my fate looked bleaker than ever.

  Of course, I knew there had to be many other exits, but when I found another entrance hall, all of its doors were also locked.

  There was no place else I could go but to return to my room, where—if anywhere within these glum walls—I felt secure. I stood there restlessly, and my face flushed with agitation, because as I thought about the Count’s behavior since my arrival, it dawned on me that he’d deliberately prevented me from getting out of the castle! Every night he had kept me up till cockcrow, so that I would sleep through most of the day, and—for courtesy’s sake—I have barely left my room until he returned. And so the time has passed, and I’ve hardly had a chance to take stock of how many days I have been here. It’s clear that the Count is quite strange. His behavior, at least, is like no one else’s. Perhaps by keeping me here he is taking advantage of my help—especially as he has seen that I am rather pliant—but I simply cannot accept being locked up like a criminal.

  I looked around and saw no other exit from my room, nor from any of the other rooms I dwelled in, except down the stairs that I had ascended on the first night, or into the hallway leading through this wing of the castle. But in this hallway, too, all the doors were locked.