Three More John Silence Stories
Page 16
is low and the voices of the submergedregion tell sometimes true--that the idea which had been all this whilematuring reached the point of an actual decision, and I suddenlyrealised that I had resolved to send word to Dr. Silence. For, with asudden wonder that I had hitherto been so blind, the unwelcomeconviction dawned upon me all at once that some dreadful thing waslurking about us on this island, and that the safety of at least one ofus was threatened by something monstrous and unclean that was toohorrible to contemplate. And, again remembering those last words of hisas the train moved out of the platform, I understood that Dr. Silencewould hold himself in readiness to come.
"Unless you should send for me sooner," he had said.
* * * * *
I found myself suddenly wide awake. It is impossible to say what wokeme, but it was no gradual process, seeing that I jumped from deep sleepto absolute alertness in a single instant. I had evidently slept for anhour and more, for the night had cleared, stars crowded the sky, and apallid half-moon just sinking into the sea threw a spectral lightbetween the trees.
I went outside to sniff the air, and stood upright. A curiousimpression that something was astir in the Camp came over me, and when Iglanced across at Sangree's tent, some twenty feet away, I saw that itwas moving. He too, then, was awake and restless, for I saw the canvassides bulge this way and that as he moved within.
The flap pushed forward. He was coming out, like myself, to sniffthe air; and I was not surprised, for its sweetness after the rain wasintoxicating. And he came on all fours, just as I had done. I saw a headthrust round the edge of the tent.
And then I saw that it was not Sangree at all. It was an animal. And thesame instant I realised something else too--it was _the_ animal; and itswhole presentment for some unaccountable reason was unutterably malefic.
A cry I was quite unable to suppress escaped me, and the creature turnedon the instant and stared at me with baleful eyes. I could have droppedon the spot, for the strength all ran out of my body with a rush.Something about it touched in me the living terror that grips andparalyses. If the mind requires but the tenth of a second to form animpression, I must have stood there stockstill for several seconds whileI seized the ropes for support and stared. Many and vivid impressionsflashed through my mind, but not one of them resulted in action, becauseI was in instant dread that the beast any moment would leap in mydirection and be upon me. Instead, however, after what seemed a vastperiod, it slowly turned its eyes from my face, uttered a low whiningsound, and came out altogether into the open.
Then, for the first time, I saw it in its entirety and noted two things:it was about the size of a large dog, but at the same time it wasutterly unlike any animal that I had ever seen. Also, that the qualitythat had impressed me first as being malefic was really only itssingular and original strangeness. Foolish as it may sound, andimpossible as it is for me to adduce proof, I can only say that theanimal seemed to me then to be--not real.
But all this passed through my mind in a flash, almost subconsciously,and before I had time to check my impressions, or even properly verifythem, I made an involuntary movement, catching the tight rope in my handso that it twanged like a banjo string, and in that instant the creatureturned the corner of Sangree's tent and was gone into the darkness.
Then, of course, my senses in some measure returned to me, and Irealised only one thing: it had been inside his tent!
I dashed out, reached the door in half a dozen strides, and looked in.The Canadian, thank God! lay upon his bed of branches. His arm wasstretched outside, across the blankets, the fist tightly clenched, andthe body had an appearance of unusual rigidity that was alarming. On hisface there was an expression of effort, almost of painful effort, so faras the uncertain light permitted me to see, and his sleep seemed to bevery profound. He looked, I thought, so stiff, so unnaturally stiff, andin some indefinable way, too, he looked smaller--shrunken.
I called to him to wake, but called many times in vain. Then I decidedto shake him, and had already moved forward to do so vigorously whenthere came a sound of footsteps padding softly behind me, and I felt astream of hot breath burn my neck as I stooped. I turned sharply. Thetent door was darkened and something silently swept in. I felt a roughand shaggy body push past me, and knew that the animal had returned. Itseemed to leap forward between me and Sangree--in fact, to leap uponSangree, for its dark body hid him momentarily from view, and in thatmoment my soul turned sick and coward with a horror that rose from thevery dregs and depths of life, and gripped my existence at its centralsource.
The creature seemed somehow to melt away into him, almost as though itbelonged to him and were a part of himself, but in the sameinstant--that instant of extraordinary confusion and terror in mymind--it seemed to pass over and behind him, and, in some utterlyunaccountable fashion, it was gone. And the Canadian woke and sat upwith a start.
"Quick! You fool!" I cried, in my excitement, "the beast has been inyour tent, here at your very throat while you sleep like the dead. Up,man! Get your gun! Only this second it disappeared over there behindyour head. Quick! or Joan--!"
And somehow the fact that he was there, wide-awake now, to corroborateme, brought the additional conviction to my own mind that this was noanimal, but some perplexing and dreadful form of life that drew upon mydeeper knowledge, that much reading had perhaps assented to, but thathad never yet come within actual range of my senses.
He was up in a flash, and out. He was trembling, and very white. Wesearched hurriedly, feverishly, but found only the traces of paw-markspassing from the door of his own tent across the moss to the women's.And the sight of the tracks about Mrs. Maloney's tent, where Joan nowslept, set him in a perfect fury.
"Do you know what it is, Hubbard, this beast?" he hissed under hisbreath at me; "it's a damned wolf, that's what it is--a wolf lost amongthe islands, and starving to death--desperate. So help me God, I believeit's that!"
He talked a lot of rubbish in his excitement. He declared he wouldsleep by day and sit up every night until he killed it. Again his ragetouched my admiration; but I got him away before he made enough noise towake the whole Camp.
"I have a better plan than that," I said, watching his face closely. "Idon't think this is anything we can deal with. I'm going to send for theonly man I know who can help. We'll go to Waxholm this very morning andget a telegram through."
Sangree stared at me with a curious expression as the fury died out ofhis face and a new look of alarm took its place.
"John Silence," I said, "will know--"
"You think it's something--of that sort?" he stammered.
"I am sure of it."
There was a moment's pause. "That's worse, far worse than anythingmaterial," he said, turning visibly paler. He looked from my face to thesky, and then added with sudden resolution, "Come; the wind's rising.Let's get off at once. From there you can telephone to Stockholm and geta telegram sent without delay."
I sent him down to get the boat ready, and seized the opportunity myselfto run and wake Maloney. He was sleeping very lightly, and sprang up themoment I put my head inside his tent. I told him briefly what I hadseen, and he showed so little surprise that I caught myself wonderingfor the first time whether he himself had seen more going on than he haddeemed wise to communicate to the rest of us.
He agreed to my plan without a moment's hesitation, and my last words tohim were to let his wife and daughter think that the great psychicdoctor was coming merely as a chance visitor, and not with anyprofessional interest.
So, with frying-pan, provisions, and blankets aboard, Sangree and Isailed out of the lagoon fifteen minutes later, and headed with a goodbreeze for the direction of Waxholm and the borders of civilisation.
IV
Although nothing John Silence did ever took me, properly speaking, bysurprise, it was certainly unexpected to find a letter from Stockholmwaiting for me. "I have finished my Hungary business," he wrote, "and amhere for ten days. Do not hesitate to send if you need me. If
youtelephone any morning from Waxholm I can catch the afternoon steamer."
My years of intercourse with him were full of "coincidences" of thisdescription, and although he never sought to explain them by claimingany magical system of communication with my mind, I have never doubtedthat there actually existed some secret telepathic method by which heknew my circumstances and gauged the degree of my need. And that thispower was independent of time in the sense that it saw into the future,always seemed to me equally apparent.
Sangree was as much relieved as I was, and within an hour of sunset thatvery evening we met him on the arrival of the little coasting steamer,and carried him off in the dinghy to the camp we had prepared on aneighbouring island, meaning to start for home early next morning.
"Now," he said, when supper was over and we were smoking round the fire,"let