A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, October 1950 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

THE ELIXIR OF HATE 15 slanted downward to the south till, cut off by a sheer thousand-foot drop of the cliffs abutting the sea. ° This plateau, he found, was—like the mountainside itself—covered with villas and cottages safe-hidden behind winding walls. An occasional tiled roof or chim- ney-pot showed through the groves. Here and there, on either hand, other winding alleys opened from the one wherein Dr. Dennison walked forward. A regular laby- rinth of runways developed. A few hundred feet farther along the walled road he came to a still narrower, curving alley. This he followed. Before long he found himself cut off even from sight of the way he had come. N OMINOUS stillness brooded on the mountain-top. He could see noth- ing but the walls on either side, and the slow-drifting clouds that now and then dimmed the blue above him. The doctor, his fists clenched with intense excitement, strode forward. All at once he came to a low, heavily hinged gate in the wall which terminated the alleyway. Set into the solid masonry, this gate of oaken beams showed row on row of hand-hammered copper rivets. A tiny peep-hole permitted any one inside to observe whomsoever might demand admittance. The single word “Science” was painted in dull white on the weathered planks. For a brief moment he pressed his hand—wasted and big knuckled, with the swollen and distorted veins of age already prominent—over his eyes. Then with a singularly harsh laugh, which echoed eerily in the narrow-walled space, he seized the old bronze-bell-handle at the right of the gate. Eager, yet as though half reluctant, too, he gave it a vigorous pull. Sharply he stepped back. He waited. No result. Approaching the gate, he tried to peer in through the little hole; but the aperture was stopped by a slide within. His hands closed and opened; he licked his dry lips, blinked, fidgeted, and paced back and forth. In feverish expectation he waited. Once more he was about to ring, when somewhere inside the wall he heard a crunching of gravel, a shuffle of steps, a grumbling in surly tones. Some one was drawing nigh. Dennison stepped up to the gate again, and knocked hard with his bony knuckles. “Patience! Patience! I come!” ad- jured a voice within. Though the words were spoken in French, the accent was strongly Italian. All at once the doctor saw an eye peer- ing at him through the little hole. For some fifteen seconds this eye took cog- nizance of him with careful and deliber- ate inspection. Then, ‘Well, m’sieur ?” queried the voice. “Is—is this the—villa of Dr. Alessandro Pagani?” faltered Dennison. Now that he had need of utmost assurance, his lips trembled and his throat would hardly serve him. “Oui, m'sieur,” answered the owner of the eye. “‘I—that is—is he at home?” “He is. And then?” “I want to see him.” “He sees very few visitors, m’sieur, and no strangers at all. But perhaps m’sieur will leave some word? Or make some arrangement to see him tomorrow, or next week ?” “No, no!” snapped the doctor, his natural irritability reasserting itself. “That won't do at all. I must see him today, at once. Must! You understand?” “Is Monsieur expected ?” “Of course! Didn’t the doctor receive a telegram some days ago? By wireless?” “Ah! So monsieur sent that ?” “Yes. Now admit me at once. Here is my card.” A lock turned and bolts slid back. Dennison, trembling with strong emotion, stepped inside the enclosure. Then the gate closed again. The doctor found himself confronted by a singular Janus—a short, fat little fel- low with bristling mustache, wattled cheeks, and a reddish cast of hair which clearly showed his Lombard strain. Snapping both heels together like a soldier, this odd individual saluted stiffly in military fashion. Dennison judged him correctly as an old ex-conscript. “Well?” demanded the American. “Follow me, m'sieur.” He turned, and with no further speech, set out. Dennison, glancing nervously 6)(0)©) LMU <S (C(O)