The Three Impostors; or, The TransmutationsMachen, Arthur
Science
The Three Impostors; or, The Transmutations
Machen, Arthur
Fiction; Horror tales, English
"No, I anticipated that. I was not to be led to give my life to a
practical joke. I have tested the matter very carefully. Only one person
besides myself knows of the mere existence of that black seal. Besides,
there are other reasons which I cannot enter into now."
"But what does it all mean?" I said. "I cannot understand to what
conclusion all this leads."
"My dear Miss Lally, that is a question I would rather leave unanswered
for some little time. Perhaps I shall never be able to say what secrets
are held here in solution; a few vague hints, the outlines of village
tragedies, a few marks done with red earth upon a rock, and an ancient
seal. A queer set of data to go upon? Half-a-dozen pieces of evidence,
and twenty years before even so much could be got together; and who
knows what mirage or terra incognita may be beyond all this? I look
across deep waters, Miss Lally, and the land beyond may be but a haze
after all. But still I believe it is not so, and a few months will show
whether I am right or wrong."
He left me, and alone I endeavored to fathom the mystery, wondering to
what goal such eccentric odds and ends of evidence could lead. I myself
am not wholly devoid of imagination, and I had reason to respect the
professor's solidity of intellect; yet I saw in the contents of the
drawer but the materials of fantasy, and vainly tried to conceive what
theory could be founded on the fragments that had been placed before me.
Indeed, I could discover in what I had heard and seen but the first
chapter of an extravagant romance; and yet deep in my heart I burned
with curiosity, and day after day I looked eagerly in Professor Gregg's
face for some hint of what was to happen.
It was one evening after dinner that the word came.
"I hope you can make your preparations without much trouble," he said
suddenly to me. "We shall be leaving here in a week's time."
"Really!" I said in astonishment. "Where are we going?"
"I have taken a country house in the west of England, not far from
Caermaen, a quiet little town, once a city, and the headquarters of a
Roman legion. It is very dull there, but the country is pretty, and the
air is wholesome."
I detected a glint in his eyes, and guessed that this sudden move had
some relation to our conversation of a few days before.
"I shall just take a few books with me," said Professor Gregg, "that is
all. Everything else will remain here for our return. I have got a
holiday," he went on, smiling at me, "and I shan't be sorry to be quit
for a time of my old bones and stones and rubbish. Do you know," he went
on, "I have been grinding away at facts for thirty years; it is time for
fancies."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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