gentle declivity (up which I had clambered) terminating in the broad,
level road leading to Worthing. Here, on this broad expanse of the
Downs, was a fairyland of soft sea air, sunshine and rest--rest from
mankind, from the shrill, unmusical voices of the crude and rude product
of the County Council schools.
I sat down; I never for one moment thought of phantasms; I fell asleep.
I awoke; the hot floodgates of the cloudless heaven were still open, the
air translucent over and around me, when straight in front of me, on a
gloriously gilded patch of grass, there fell a shadow--a shadow from no
apparent substance, for both air and ground were void of obstacles, and,
apart from myself, there was no living object in the near landscape. Yet
it was a shadow; a shadow that I could not diagnose; a waving,
fluctuating shadow, unpleasantly suggestive of something subtle and
horrid. It was, I instinctively knew, the shadow of the occult; a few
moments more, and a development would, in all probability, take place.
The blue sky, the golden sea, the tiny trails of smoke creeping up
lazily from the myriads of chimney-pots, the white house-tops, the red
house-tops, the church spire, the railway line, the puffing, humming,
shuffling goods-train, the glistening white roads, the breathing, busy
figures, and the bright and smiling mile upon mile of emerald turf rose
in rebellion against the likelihood of ghosts--yet, there was the
shadow. I looked away from it, and, as I did so, an icy touch fell on my
shoulder. I dared not turn; I sat motionless, petrified, frozen. The
touch passed to my forehead and from thence to my chin, my head swung
round forcibly, and I saw--nothing--only the shadow; but how different,
for out of the chaotic blotches there now appeared a well--a remarkably
well--defined outline, the outline of a head and hand, the head of a
fantastic beast, a repulsive beast, and the hand of a man. A flock of
swallows swirled overhead, a grasshopper chirped, a linnet sang, and,
with this sudden awakening of nature, the touch and shadow vanished
simultaneously. But the hillock had lost its attractions for me, and,
rising hastily, I dashed down the decline and hurried homewards. I
discovered no reason other than solitude, and the possible burial-place
of prehistoric man, for the presence of the occult; but the next time I
visited the spot, the same thing happened. I have been there twice
since, and the same, always the same thing--first the shadow, then the
touch, then the shadow, then the arrival of some form or other of joyous
animal life, and the abrupt disappearance of the Unknown.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account