It was such a panic as seizes a child who, fearfully courageous, has
stolen at night from his room, and turning in half-simulated terror
finds the door fast against him, or is aware of a malignant presence
come suddenly into being, standing between himself and the safety of
his own bed.
On the one side his fear drove him onwards; on the other a Horror
faced him. He dared not recoil, for he understood where security lay;
he longed, like the child screaming in the dark and beating his hands,
to get back to the warmth and safety of bed; yet there stood before
him a Presence, or at the least an Emotion of some kind, so hostile,
so terrible, that he dared not penetrate it. It was not that an actual
restraint lay upon him: he knew, that is, that the door was open; yet
it needed an effort of the will of which his paralysis of terror
rendered him incapable....
The tension became intolerable.
"O God ... God ... God...." he cried.
And in an instant the threshold was vacated; the swift rush asserted
itself, and the space was passed.
* * * * *
Laurie sat up abruptly in his chair.
IV
Mr. Vincent was beginning to think about going to bed. He had come in
an hour before, had written half a dozen letters, and was smoking
peacefully before the fire.
His rooms were not remarkable in any way, except for half a dozen
objects standing on the second shelf of his bookcase, and the
selection of literature ranged below them. For the rest, all was
commonplace enough; a mahogany knee-hold table, a couple of easy
chairs, much worn, and a long, extremely comfortable sofa standing by
itself against the wall with evident signs, in its tumbled cushions
and rubbed fabric, of continual and frequent use. A second door gave
entrance to his bedroom.
He beat out his pipe slowly, yawned, and stood up.
It was at this instant that he heard the sudden tinkle of the electric
bell in the lobby outside, and, wondering at the interruption at this
hour, went quickly out and opened the door on to the stairs.
"Mr. Baxter! Come in, come in; I'm delighted to see you."
Laurie came in without a word, went straight up to the fire-place, and
faced about.
"I'm not going to apologize," he said, "for coming at this time. You
told me to come and see you at any time, and I've taken you at your
word."
The young man had an odd embarrassed manner, thought the other; an air
of having come in spite of uneasiness; he was almost shamefaced.
The medium impelled him gently into a chair.
"First a cigarette," he said; "next a little whisky, and then I shall
be delighted to listen.... No; please do as I say."
Laurie permitted himself to be managed; there was a strong, almost
paternal air in the other's manner that was difficult to resist. He
lit his cigarette, he sipped his whisky; but his movements were
nervously quick.
"Well, then...." and he interrupted himself. "What are those things,
Mr. Vincent?" He nodded towards the second shelf in the bookcase.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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