The closet door to the right of the fireplace now opened, and from the
aperture came the form of a woman, aged. In her hand she held
letters,--the very letters over which I had seen _the_ hand close; and
behind her I heard a footstep. She turned round as if to listen, and
then she opened the letters and seemed to read: and over her shoulder I
saw a livid face, the face as of a man long drowned,--bloated, bleached,
seaweed tangled in its dripping hair; and at her feet lay a form as of a
corpse, and beside the corpse cowered a child, a miserable, squalid
child, with famine in its cheeks and fear in its eyes. And as I looked
in the old woman’s face, the wrinkles and lines vanished, and it became
a face of youth,--hard-eyed, stony, but still youth; and the shadow
darted forth and darkened over these phantoms, as it had darkened over
the last.
Nothing now was left but the shadow, and on that my eyes were intently
fixed, till again eyes grew out of the shadow,--malignant, serpent eyes.
And the bubbles of light again rose and fell, and in their disordered,
irregular, turbulent maze mingled with the wan moonlight. And now from
these globules themselves, as from the shell of an egg, monstrous things
burst out; the air grew filled with them; larvæ so bloodless and so
hideous that I can in no way describe them, except to remind the reader
of the swarming life which the solar microscope brings before his eyes
in a drop of water,--things transparent, supple, agile, chasing each
other, devouring each other,--forms like naught ever beheld by the naked
eye. As the shapes were without symmetry, so their movements were
without order. In their very vagrancies there was no sport; they came
round me and round, thicker and faster and swifter, swarming over my
head, crawling over my right arm, which was outstretched in involuntary
command against all evil beings. Sometimes I felt myself touched, but
not by them; invisible hands touched me. Once I felt the clutch as of
cold, soft fingers at my throat. I was still equally conscious that if I
gave way to fear I should be in bodily peril, and I concentred all my
faculties in the single focus of resisting, stubborn will. And I turned
my sight from the shadow, above all from those strange serpent
eyes,--eyes that had now become distinctly visible. For there, though in
naught else around me, I was aware that there was a will, and a will of
intense, creative, working evil, which might crush down my own.
The pale atmosphere in the room began now to redden as if in the air of
some near conflagration. The larvæ grew lurid as things that live in
fire. Again the room vibrated; again were heard the three measured
knocks; and again all things were swallowed up in the darkness of the
dark shadow, as if out of that darkness all had come, into that darkness
all returned.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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