10 Short Novels Magazine — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

it did not linger there. It passed beyond, whether through the window, or in what means, I did not know. I.only knew that it had gone, and that it had left a fearful, horrible void behind it. In that instant I roused to full wake- fulness. I had the momentary vision of a shadowy figure at the window—a tower- ing form of deepest black with immense shoulders, a great rounded head topped by a spray of sable plumes. It vanished, and the sudden clatter of horse’s hoofs reached my ears, died away in the distance. Instinctively I reached over to touch Marion, to assure myself that this thing had been but a figment of my imagina- tion, a sort of semi-waking dream. My questing hand moved only through empty space. I leaped up, turned on lights, searched everywhere. But Marion was gone. never occurred to me to question what had happened to her, or where she had been taken. Like a frenzied maniac I stamped shoes onto my bare feet, flung a top-coat over my pajamas. Within seconds I was racing down the street as though fiends were riding my shoulders. Whether I encountered anyone or not, I do not know. It seemed to me that I traveled with the speed of thought, for the next thing I knew I was standing in a little clump of trees near the great north wing of the Metropolitan Museum, gazing steadfastly at a small door that opened, I knew, directly onto the armor room, A moment I hesitated, searching the windows for sign of a light inside. There was none. Swiftly, but on tiptoe, I sped to the door, threw my weight against it as I turned the knob. Easily it swung inward, and I almost fell to the floor as.I staggered inside. Surprised that the door should be un- locked, but giving this no thought, I straightened up, and the door swung noiselessly closed behind me. The darkness of that place was a tangi- ble, palpable thing. I felt as though I were submerged in a sea of ink; that the blackness was invading my throat and nostrils, suffocating me. And then every muscle in my body snapped to the tension of a drawn bow-string. There was a slight noise behind me —the scrape of metal on wood. I whirled, probed the darkness with aching, blind eyes. The noise was repeated, closer to ‘me, and was followed by a muffled clank. Cautiously I backed away, the infini- - testimal sound that my shoe made, in con- tact with the floor, sounding in my ears Black Knight's Bondage * * * 87 like the tramping of armies. I took an- other step — and the metallic sounds followed me. Terror hung like a cold leaden ball in my stomach, but I came to a halt. What- ever this thing was that followed me in the dark, it had some connection with Marion’s disappearance. If I were ever to hold her in my arms again, it must be faced and conquered. I gathered myself together, and strained my ears for the next sound that would give me a more definite idea of the location of my enemy. It came—and I hurled myself forward in the darkness. My body traveled perhaps two feet, then such a blast of pain shot through me as almost to rob me of my senses. It was as though two iron clamps had swept out of the night and crashed my throat on either side. I was held by the neck, my body a dead weight, suspended as though from a steel giblet, while my senses swam and agony swept my head and torso like a flight of poisoned arrows. I was held so but for a moment, or I would have strangled and died on the spot. Then the clamps descended to my shoulders and whirled me about. My right arm was twi upward in a torturing hammer-lock, and a powerful push pro- © pelled me staggering forward. Seemingly my captor could see in the dark; for he guided me, with painful twists and thrusts, a considerable dis- tance over the floor. I had the impulse to cry out for one of the night guards. But as though my antagonist had divined my thought, my arm was suddenly given a terrific wrench. Finally I was jerked to a stop, and a door, beyond which came a faint illumi- nation, was suddenly swung open. I was given a final powerful shove. I staggered into the room under the force of it, lost my footing, and crashed to the floor. For a moment I lay there stunned—and then a cry of anguish brought me springing - to my feet. In front of me was Marion, her wrists and ankles gyvved to the wall with iron cuffs, her white and rose-tinted body showing through long rents in her torn clothing. Her dark eyes, flooded with anguish, looked at me in pitiful helpless- ness. With a curse of ferocious rage, I started toward her—only to be jerked violently backward and then hurled, as though from a giant catapult, to the opposite side of the room. I fell at the foot of a cross-shaped rack. Before I could regain my feet, I was jerked to them, and my wrists and ankles were chained to the rack. Then, and not until then, so stunned was I from pain Gomichbooks (E©)