A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, October 1950 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

36 A. MERRITT’S FANTASY way was definitely blocked. Puzzled, he stood there a moment in contemplation. “How now?” cried he, peering at the door. ‘‘What the deuce does this mean ?”’ Holding to one of the iron staples, he bent, thrust his head in, and squinted round. By the vague light that illuminated the vicinity of the door he perceived a roughhewn flight of steps leading down- ward, parallel to the face of the cliff. A dozen or so were visible ; beyond, darkness swallowed them. He stood up again, and, still keeping his hold upon the iron, looked down the sur- face of the precipice. No way to climb down farther—that was plain. The path was quite obliterated ; and, besides, the rocky wall here over- hung, so that by no means, save a long rope, could any human creature descend. Away below him, beckoning, calling, he could see the blue rollers as they creamed in crawling windrows of surf along the base of the titanic wall. “It’s down those stairs, or not at all!” said he decisively. Suddenly he understood the cause of the uneasiness which, till now only half perceived, had for the last hour or two been making him blink and squint. “My giasses!” he exclaimed. And as he spoke he snatched them off impatiently. ‘‘Ah, now that’s better; now I can see!” With a broad smile he gazed about him, holding the glasses in his hand the while. Then, actuated by a sudden impulse, he flung them far out into space. He watched them spin, twinkle, flash as they fell. “Drat you!” he cried, as they vanished into the sea. ““You’ve given me your last day’s bother! And you, too, and you!” he added, dragging from his pocket first a blue bottle, then a brown one. These likewise he hurled away with angry force. The glitter of the hurtling bottles was grateful to his eyes as they whirled in a vast arc through the sunlit morning air. The pill-box cover spun off; he saw a scatter of white pellets. Surprised at the keenness, the accuracy, of his vision, he uttered a cry of “Splendid! Fine!” and faced the direct sunlight. These rays, level with the heaving bosom of the sea, already burned with southern ardor. But he did not squint. “Why,” he wondered, ‘“‘this is the first time in—in heaven knows how many years that I’ve been able to look Old Sol in the face!” From somewhere out there in the tides he heard a faint plep, plop! “Eh? What’s that?” he exclaimed. “Oh, those infernal medicine bottles! Good riddance for me; worse luck for the fish, as Dr. Holmes well said. But— I—I heard them? At what distance? Great Heavens! It’s true—true as I’m alive. And only yesterday I couldn’t have heard a horse fall in from here.” Marveling, thrilled with the miracle, the glory, the ecstatic wonder of it all, he raised his regenerated arms to the sun, as though he had been a Parsee fire-wor- shiper. Then, turning, he crept through the little door and started down the rough- cut stairs of stone. CHAPTER 9 Loot! USTY, festooned with a fly-filled webs, the way led downward steeply but with no great diff- culty. Dennison judged, from the primt- tive cutting, that the steps were of vast antiquity, dating perhaps from far back in pre-Roman times when Phoenician traders had been tempting prey for the pirate hordes which once infested these rocky coasts. But he had scant time for any such considerations. For hardly had he de- scended a score of steps, hoping he might meet other openings cut through for light, when he perceived that the stairs veered sharply to the right. Thus, darkness ab- solutely enveloped him. He looked back. There above him he could still see a blotch of light from the doorway. A vague illumination grayed down the steps, but around the corner it ceased. “Lord knows what pitfalls may exist below !” said he tentatively. “No use being positively reckless, just as everything's commencing. Some way or other, I’ve got to have a light!” A moment he reflected, his heart beating a trifle fast, dilated pupils staring down an) (C 6)(0)©) Ss (C(O)