A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, December 1949 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

again in that black work, de Keradel.” “So!” he said slowly. “So! And so I thought. But I will not need you again, Caranac. The rapprochement last night was almost perfect. So perfect . . . that I ey not even need, again, Dahut.” so e had said that last musingly, more as though sealing by-words a secret thought __ than speaking to me. And once more I had the feeling of dissension between the two . and fear of Dahut driving him—driv- ing him to what? He leaned back and roared dsuptiter: his eyes and lips both laughing, without malice or evil. “That is one side of the matter, Dr. Caranac. And now I give you the other _ side, the common sense side. I am an able siti nin RR RaA OR Betid tia Ty | = psychiatrist, and adventurous. I am an ex- ee plorer, but not of the jungles nor the “2% deserts of this world. I explore the brains ——e of men which are thousands of worlds. oe Mostly, I admit, they are distressingly cds similar; yet now and then there is one a < sufficiently different to justify the labor wi $e of exploration. sigs “Let us suppose that I have heard of SS you—as a matter of fact, Caranac, I know me the history of your family better than you iS do yourself. Still, I have no desire to meet ae you until I read your interview in the case Mex of this Ralston, whom I knew not at all. 1 It arouses my curiosity, and I decide to ee explore—you. What is my best approach en without exciting your suspicions? The foe most favorable, unguarded entrance into was the particular territory of your brain i which I wish to survey? © ae >, “T read that you are a friend of Dr. oS Bennett, who has interesting ideas upon one the death of this same Ralston and others. nix I read that he is with Dr. Lowell, a broth- we er psychiatrist upon whom I have been Se intending to call. So I do call upon him, a - and what more natural than I should re- +S ceive a dinner invitation for myself and = my daughter? And, as I expect, there are you and Dr. Bennett. seur of warlocks, a = You have spoken to the pressmen of shad- > ows, and to my delight I find that Dr. Bennett is obsessed by the same idea. Bet- => ter still, he is half convinced of sorcery’s reality. You two are so thoroughly en Ky A. MERRITT’S FANTASY com that you participated. That what you ~ “Very well, then. You are a connois- i student of sorcery. I turn the conversation in that direction. — y a pe eS ae ee ey ie are. rapport that not only do I find entrance to your mind doubly easy, but his also open to me.’ Pa He paused as though inviting comment, — I made none. Something of the ambit faded from his face. He said: “T have called myself an explorer of minds, Caranac. I can cut my trails ~ through the jungles. Better. Because Ts can control the—vegetation.” 4 Again he paused, and when again I ~ made no comment, asked with edge or irritation, “You understand me?” I nodded. “I follow you perfectly.” ia did not add that not only did I follow him but was a bit ahead of him...a ~ poe Le was forming in my mind, a rE SAID: “TI now suggest to you— — in my character of psychiatrist, Cara- ’ nac, not of sorcerer—that my whole ex- 4 periment has been centered upon awaken- — ing those memories which have come down to you from ancestors who did make sacri- fices to a demon-god. Those very sacri- fices in which last night it seemed to you thought you saw upon the Cairn and with- — in the Cairn was the image of that demon- — god the imaginations of your ancestors — created long centuries ago ; that, and noth- — ing more. B. “T suggest that from the moment we met, — little which has seemed reality to you has BY been wholly so—a tapestry of dark an- — cestral memories and innocent realities of which I have been the weaver. There is — no Gatherer . . . there are no creeping Shadows .. . no hidden lair beneath this house, My daughter, who shares in my 3 ; experiments, is in truth what sometimes | she has seemed to you to be...a woman of today’s world, sophisticated, certainly; but no more witch than the Helen you called your antique coin. And finally, that a you are a guest here, only. No prisoner, and under no compulsion to remain other than your own imagination stimulated, . as I have admitted, by my own passion a for research.” it “He added with barely discernible i irony, =. “And my daughter’s.” 3 Now it was I who walked to the win-— a dow = stood with my back to him. Ab- | sently, I noted that the rain had stopp cs and the sun was breaking through tt < a cComicbooks.com