The Three Impostors; or, The TransmutationsMachen, Arthur
Science
The Three Impostors; or, The Transmutations
Machen, Arthur
Fiction; Horror tales, English
"The whole of the above is unfortunately strictly and entirely true.
Your brother confessed all to me on that morning when I saw him in his
room. My attention was first attracted to the bandaged hand, and I
forced him to show it me. What I saw made me, a medical man of many
years standing, grow sick with loathing; and the story I was forced to
listen to was infinitely more frightful than I could have believed
possible. It has tempted me to doubt the Eternal Goodness which can
permit nature to offer such hideous possibilities; and if you had not
with your own eyes seen the end, I should have said to you--disbelieve
it all. I have not, I think, many more weeks to live, but you are young,
and may forget all this.
"JOSEPH HABERDEN, M.D."
In the course of two or three months I heard that Dr. Haberden had died
at sea, shortly after the ship left England.
Miss Leicester ceased speaking, and looked pathetically at Dyson, who
could not refrain from exhibiting some symptoms of uneasiness.
He stuttered out some broken phrases expressive of his deep interest in
her extraordinary history, and then said with a better grace--
"But, pardon me, Miss Leicester, I understood you were in some
difficulty. You were kind enough to ask me to assist you in some way."
"Ah," she said, "I had forgotten that. My own present trouble seems of
such little consequence in comparison with what I have told you. But as
you are so good to me, I will go on. You will scarcely believe it, but I
found that certain persons suspected, or rather pretended to suspect
that I had murdered my brother. These persons were relatives of mine,
and their motives were extremely sordid ones; but I actually found
myself subject to the shameful indignity of being watched. Yes, sir, my
steps were dogged when I went abroad, and at home I found myself exposed
to constant if artful observation. With my high spirit this was more
than I could brook, and I resolved to set my wits to work and elude the
persons who were shadowing me. I was so fortunate as to succeed. I
assumed this disguise, and for some time have lain snug and unsuspected.
But of late I have reason to believe that the pursuer is on my track;
unless I am greatly deceived, I saw yesterday the detective who is
charged with the odious duty of observing my movements. You, sir, are
watchful and keen-sighted; tell me, did you see any one lurking about
this evening?"
"I hardly think so," said Dyson, "but perhaps you would give me some
description of the detective in question."
"Certainly; he is a youngish man, dark, with dark whiskers. He has
adopted spectacles of large size in the hope of disguising himself
effectually, but he cannot disguise his uneasy manner, and the quick,
nervous glances he casts to right and left."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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