Avon Fantasy Reader No. 9 — page 101: what you’re looking at

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his lantern through into the blackness. He flashed a light round; then withdrew the lantern. “Bosh, man!” he said. “That’s twice you’ve got fancying things. Ease i up your nerves a bit “I did see it!” I said, almost angrily. “It was like a great red-haired mead... “Stow it, Duprey!” he said, though not sneeringly. “The house is abso- lutely empty. Come round to the door, if the Infernal Masons that built her, went in for doors! Then you'll see for yourself. All the same, keep your axes ready, lads. I’ve a notion there’s something pretty queer aboard here.” We went up round the after-end of the little house, and here we saw what appeared to be a door. The Skipper felt ‘at the queer, odd-shapen handle, and pushed at the door; but it had stuck fast. “Here, one of you!” he said, stepping back. “Have a whack at this with your axe. Better use the back.” One of the men stepped forward, and we stood away to give him room. As his axe struck, the door went to pieces with exactly the same sound that a thin slab of stone would make, when broken. “Stone!” I heard the Captain mutter, under his breath. “By Gum! What is she?” I did not wait for the Skipper. He had put me a bit on edge, and I stepped bang in through the open doorway, with the lamp high, and holding my axe short and ready; but there was nothing in the place, save a stone seat running all round, except where the doorway opened on to the deck. “Find your red-haired monster?” asked the Skipper, at my elbow. I said nothing. I was suddenly aware that he was all on the jump with some inexplicable fear. I saw his glance going everywhere about him. And then his eye caught mine, and he saw that I realised. He was a man almost callous to fear, that is the fear of danger in what I might call any normal sea-faring shape. And this palpable nerviness affected me tremen- dously. He was obviously doing his best to throttle it; and trying all he knew to hide it. I had a sudden warmth of understanding for him, and dreaded lest the men should realise his state. Funny that I should be able at that moment to be aware of anything but my own bewildered fear and expectancy of intruding upon something monstrous at any instant. Yet I describe exactly my feelings, as I stood there in the house. “Shall we try below, Sir?” I said, and turned to where a flight of stone steps led down into an utter blackness, out of which rose a str scent of the sea . . . an imponderable mixture of brine and darkness. “The worthy Duprey leads the van!” said the Skipper; but I felt no irritation now. I knew that he must cover his fright, until he had got con- trol again; and I think he felt, somehow, that I was backing him up. I remember now that I went down those stairs into that unknowable and 99 CoOnniclooolks ange, dank (E@)