10 Short Novels Magazine — page 88: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a ae = Ss eT Grad m7 : - ni ee ang 3 NT ee a al = ~~. ie ——- Se ee a ae ae ~ 86 * * * Ten Short Novels Magezine nous eyes closed in an expression of pain as her fingers tightened on my arms. “But no,” she went on, after a moment, opening her eyes, and gazing at me with a curiously pleading expression. “The fates wouldn't be so unkind to us— I must have looked my helpless, fear- ful puzzlement, for presently she gave another little laugh, and breaking away from me led me to the divan and made me sit down beside her. Then she turned so that she was facing me squarely, and with an assumption of mock gravity, said: “My name is Marion Horvendile, and am glad to meet you, Mr. Kennaston!” She looked at me with queer expectan- cy, but if she supposed that mention of her name would restore recollection of whatever it was she wanted me to remem- ber, she was doomed to disappointment. But I no longer feared losing her. I could afford to be honest. _ “Tt’s no use,” I said. “I can’t seem to remember—anything.” At that moment Edna, my housekeeper, appeared at the door of the library. “Mr. Kennaston,” she said, with a note of alarm in her voice, “are you ill, sir?” I looked up at her. “Why, no, Edna,” I said. “What makes you ask that?” Then, without paying much attention to what she answered, my.mind went ahead with the suddenly posed problem of her pres- ence. I knew that her Puritan soul was undoubtedly i and I sitting so closely together. My housekeeper did not even look at the girl —ignoring her, as I t, as an auto- matic response to her own rigid inhibi- tions. For it must have scandalized her that we were alone together—at night. I smiled at the girl, then turned and said to Edna: “I’m afraid I'll have to let you go. I’ll give you a check for three months’ salary, and you can pack and go out to your sister’s place tonight—if that won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you.” convenience, sir! I hope I haven't offended ?” “Not at all,” I assured her. “You have been very isfactory im every way— a eee na.” “Very well, sir,” said Edna, and disap- peared from the doorway. I turned and gathered Marion once more into my arms, kissed her with the joyous passion of perfectly requited love. But something as yet unrecognized, and unacknowledged, had been planted deep in my brain. My housekeeper had somehow stirred to somber, glowering life the shadows that had swept to and fro over my soul that afternoon. A distant, submerged part of my consciousness was whisper- Ing something, and a faint and ghostly toesin was ringing in my brain.... HE reasoning, critical part of my mind was all but inoperative that night. Neither of us was concerned about anything in the world but the rapture we found in each other’s arms. The rest of the world did not exist. At last, her silky hair caressing my cheek, her small head nestling in the hollow of my shoulder, Marion fell asleep . in my~ arms. Her regular breathing, marked by the soft fanning of her per- fumed breath on my neck lulled me into the borderland sleeping and waking. For awhile, however, I did not slip imto un- consciousness. My room was faintly illuminated by the reflected glow of street lamps which filtered in through the windows. It was just enough light to create a horde of inky shadows, but in my dreamy, half- sleeping state I was conscious only one. My eyes were closed, but. as clearly as though I were watching it, I sensed the presence of that one shadow—deeper, more definitely formed than the others —looming beside the nearest wi window. I felt it as a malevolent entity, the agent of evil and terror—and over my d consciousness erept the vague, formless fears that had assailed me in the museum, that had come incessantly to. plague and torture me at intervals all evening. All the terror I had felt returned now, increased and intensified, and seemed to concentrate itself on that stygian, loom- ing figure there by the window. I wanted to open my eyes, to assure myself, child- ishly, that there was really nothing there —but I could not. And now I felt that the shadow was moving toward me. Distinctly I knew that it had detached itself from the win- dow, that it was advancing with a curi- ously muted clanking sound toward the girl and me—and I was powerless to move a muscle. Then I felt the great black figure hovering over us, bending slowly downward. : A soundless shriek was tearing at my throat, for I knew, now, the identity of that fearsome form—but I could make no outery. It was as though I were bound and gagged, and my brain seethed in a torment of rage and terror at my help- lessness. The black figure stooped, and rose erect again. It retreated toward the window from whence it had come, but this time = com Ebooks: com = arr. ee ~ . ied - a ~~. Mn Sof See ~ pron ee