第3章

Thenoiseandclamourofthestreethaddiedaway，thoughnowandthenthesoundofshoutingstillcamefromthedistance，andthedull，leadensilenceseemedlikethequietafteranearthquakeorastorm。Villiersturnedfromthewindowandbeganspeaking。

"IwasatahousenearRegent’sParklastnight，andwhenIcameawaythefancytookmetowalkhomeinsteadoftakingahansom。Itwasaclearpleasantnightenough，andafterafewminutesIhadthestreetsprettymuchtomyself。

It’sacuriousthing，Austin，tobealoneinLondonatnight，thegas-lampsstretchingawayinperspective，andthedeadsilence，andthenperhapstherushandclatterofahansomonthestones，andthefirestartingupunderthehorse’shoofs。

Iwalkedalongprettybriskly，forIwasfeelingalittletiredofbeingoutinthenight，andastheclockswerestrikingtwoIturneddownAshleyStreet，which，youknow，isonmyway。Itwasquieterthaneverthere，andthelampswerefewer；

altogether，itlookedasdarkandgloomyasaforestinwinter。

IhaddoneabouthalfthelengthofthestreetwhenIheardadoorclosedverysoftly，andnaturallyIlookeduptoseewhowasabroadlikemyselfatsuchanhour。Asithappens，thereisastreetlampclosetothehouseinquestion，andIsawamanstandingonthestep。Hehadjustshutthedoorandhisfacewastowardsme，andIrecognizedCrashawdirectly。Ineverknewhimtospeakto，butIhadoftenseenhim，andIampositivethatIwasnotmistakeninmyman。Ilookedintohisfaceforamoment，andthen——Iwillconfessthetruth——Isetoffatagoodrun，andkeptituptillIwaswithinmyowndoor。"

"Why？"

"Why？Becauseitmademybloodruncoldtoseethatman’sface。Icouldneverhavesupposedthatsuchaninfernalmedleyofpassionscouldhaveglaredoutofanyhumaneyes；I

almostfaintedasIlooked。IknewIhadlookedintotheeyesofalostsoul，Austin，theman’soutwardformremained，butallhellwaswithinit。Furiouslust，andhatethatwaslikefire，andthelossofallhopeandhorrorthatseemedtoshriekaloudtothenight，thoughhisteethwereshut；andtheutterblacknessofdespair。Iamsurethathedidnotseeme；hesawnothingthatyouorIcansee，butwhathesawIhopewenevershall。Idonotknowwhenhedied；Isupposeinanhour，orperhapstwo，butwhenIpasseddownAshleyStreetandheardtheclosingdoor，thatmannolongerbelongedtothisworld；itwasadevil’sfaceIlookedupon。"

TherewasanintervalofsilenceintheroomwhenVilliersceasedspeaking。Thelightwasfailing，andallthetumultofanhouragowasquitehushed。Austinhadbenthisheadatthecloseofthestory，andhishandcoveredhiseyes。

"Whatcanitmean？"hesaidatlength。

"Whoknows，Austin，whoknows？It’sablackbusiness，butIthinkwehadbetterkeepittoourselves，forthepresentatanyrate。IwillseeifIcannotlearnanythingaboutthathousethroughprivatechannelsofinformation，andifIdolightuponanythingIwillletyouknow。"

VII

THEENCOUNTERINSOHO

ThreeweekslaterAustinreceivedanotefromVilliers，askinghimtocalleitherthatafternoonorthenext。Hechosethenearerdate，andfoundVillierssittingasusualbythewindow，apparentlylostinmeditationonthedrowsytrafficofthestreet。Therewasabambootablebyhisside，afantasticthing，enrichedwithgildingandqueerpaintedscenes，andonitlayalittlepileofpapersarrangedanddocketedasneatlyasanythinginMr。Clarke’soffice。

"Well，Villiers，haveyoumadeanydiscoveriesinthelastthreeweeks？"

"Ithinkso；Ihavehereoneortwomemorandawhichstruckmeassingular，andthereisastatementtowhichI

shallcallyourattention。"

"AndthesedocumentsrelatetoMrs。Beaumont？ItwasreallyCrashawwhomyousawthatnightstandingonthedoorstepofthehouseinAshleyStreet？"

"Astothatmattermybeliefremainsunchanged，butneithermyinquiriesnortheirresultshaveanyspecialrelationtoCrashaw。Butmyinvestigationshavehadastrangeissue。I

havefoundoutwhoMrs。Beaumontis！"

"Whoisshe？Inwhatwaydoyoumean？"

"ImeanthatyouandIknowherbetterunderanothername。"

"Whatnameisthat？"

"Herbert。"

"Herbert！"Austinrepeatedtheword，dazedwithastonishment。

"Yes，Mrs。HerbertofPaulStreet，HelenVaughanofearlieradventuresunknowntome。Youhadreasontorecognizetheexpressionofherface；whenyougohomelookatthefaceinMeyrick’sbookofhorrors，andyouwillknowthesourcesofyourrecollection。"

"Andyouhaveproofofthis？"

"Yes，thebestofproof；IhaveseenMrs。Beaumont，orshallwesayMrs。Herbert？"

"Wheredidyouseeher？"

"HardlyinaplacewhereyouwouldexpecttoseealadywholivesinAshleyStreet，Piccadilly。IsawherenteringahouseinoneofthemeanestandmostdisreputablestreetsinSoho。Infact，Ihadmadeanappointment，thoughnotwithher，andshewasprecisetobothtimeandplace。"

"Allthisseemsverywonderful，butIcannotcallitincredible。Youmustremember，Villiers，thatIhaveseenthiswoman，intheordinaryadventureofLondonsociety，talkingandlaughing，andsippinghercoffeeinacommonplacedrawing-roomwithcommonplacepeople。Butyouknowwhatyouaresaying。"

"Ido；Ihavenotallowedmyselftobeledbysurmisesorfancies。ItwaswithnothoughtoffindingHelenVaughanthatIsearchedforMrs。BeaumontinthedarkwatersofthelifeofLondon，butsuchhasbeentheissue。"

"Youmusthavebeeninstrangeplaces，Villiers。"

"Yes，Ihavebeeninverystrangeplaces。Itwouldhavebeenuseless，youknow，togotoAshleyStreet，andaskMrs。Beaumonttogivemeashortsketchofherprevioushistory。No；assuming，asIhadtoassume，thatherrecordwasnotofthecleanest，itwouldbeprettycertainthatatsomeprevioustimeshemusthavemovedincirclesnotquitesorefinedasherpresentones。Ifyouseemudatthetopofastream，youmaybesurethatitwasonceatthebottom。Iwenttothebottom。IhavealwaysbeenfondofdivingintoQueerStreetformyamusement，andIfoundmyknowledgeofthatlocalityanditsinhabitantsveryuseful。Itis，perhaps，needlesstosaythatmyfriendshadneverheardthenameofBeaumont，andasIhadneverseenthelady，andwasquiteunabletodescribeher，Ihadtosettoworkinanindirectway。Thepeoplethereknowme；Ihavebeenabletodosomeofthemaservicenowandagain，sotheymadenodifficultyaboutgivingtheirinformation；theywereawareIhadnocommunicationdirectorindirectwithScotlandYard。Ihadtocastoutagoodmanylines，though，beforeIgotwhatIwanted，andwhenIlandedthefishIdidnotforamomentsupposeitwasmyfish。ButIlistenedtowhatIwastoldoutofaconstitutionallikingforuselessinformation，andIfoundmyselfinpossessionofaverycuriousstory，though，asI

imagined，notthestoryIwaslookingfor。Itwastothiseffect。Somefiveorsixyearsago，awomannamedRaymondsuddenlymadeherappearanceintheneighbourhoodtowhichIamreferring。Shewasdescribedtomeasbeingquiteyoung，probablynotmorethanseventeenoreighteen，veryhandsome，andlookingasifshecamefromthecountry。Ishouldbewronginsayingthatshefoundherlevelingoingtothisparticularquarter，orassociatingwiththesepeople，forfromwhatIwastold，IshouldthinktheworstdeninLondonfartoogoodforher。ThepersonfromwhomIgotmyinformation，asyoumaysuppose，nogreatPuritan，shudderedandgrewsickintellingmeofthenamelessinfamieswhichwerelaidtohercharge。

Afterlivingthereforayear，orperhapsalittlemore，shedisappearedassuddenlyasshecame，andtheysawnothingofhertillaboutthetimeofthePaulStreetcase。Atfirstshecametoheroldhauntsonlyoccasionally，thenmorefrequently，andfinallytookupherabodethereasbefore，andremainedforsixoreightmonths。It’sofnousemygoingintodetailsastothelifethatwomanled；ifyouwantparticularsyoucanlookatMeyrick’slegacy。Thosedesignswerenotdrawnfromhisimagination。Sheagaindisappeared，andthepeopleoftheplacesawnothingofhertillafewmonthsago。Myinformanttoldmethatshehadtakensomeroomsinahousewhichhepointedout，andtheseroomsshewasinthehabitofvisitingtwoorthreetimesaweekandalwaysatteninthemorning。I

wasledtoexpectthatoneofthesevisitswouldbepaidonacertaindayaboutaweekago，andIaccordinglymanagedtobeonthelook-outincompanywithmyciceroneataquartertoten，andthehourandtheladycamewithequalpunctuality。MyfriendandIwerestandingunderanarchway，alittlewaybackfromthestreet，butshesawus，andgavemeaglancethatI

shallbelonginforgetting。Thatlookwasquiteenoughforme；

IknewMissRaymondtobeMrs。Herbert；asforMrs。Beaumontshehadquitegoneoutofmyhead。Shewentintothehouse，andIwatchedittillfouro’clock，whenshecameout，andthenIfollowedher。Itwasalongchase，andIhadtobeverycarefultokeepalongwayinthebackground，andyetnotlosesightofthewoman。ShetookmedowntotheStrand，andthentoWestminster，andthenupSt。James’sStreet，andalongPiccadilly。IfeltqueerishwhenIsawherturnupAshleyStreet；thethoughtthatMrs。HerbertwasMrs。Beaumontcameintomymind，butitseemedtooimpossibletobetrue。I

waitedatthecorner，keepingmyeyeonherallthetime，andI

tookparticularcaretonotethehouseatwhichshestopped。

Itwasthehousewiththegaycurtains，thehomeofflowers，thehouseoutofwhichCrashawcamethenighthehangedhimselfinhisgarden。Iwasjustgoingawaywithmydiscovery，whenI

sawanemptycarriagecomeroundanddrawupinfrontofthehouse，andIcametotheconclusionthatMrs。Herbertwasgoingoutforadrive，andIwasright。There，asithappened，ImetamanIknow，andwestoodtalkingtogetheralittledistancefromthecarriage-way，towhichIhadmyback。Wehadnotbeentherefortenminuteswhenmyfriendtookoffhishat，andI

glancedroundandsawtheladyIhadbeenfollowingallday。

’Whoisthat？’Isaid，andhisanswerwas’Mrs。Beaumont；livesinAshleyStreet。’Ofcoursetherecouldbenodoubtafterthat。Idon’tknowwhethershesawme，butIdon’tthinkshedid。Iwenthomeatonce，and，onconsideration，IthoughtthatIhadasufficientlygoodcasewithwhichtogotoClarke。"

"WhytoClarke？"

"BecauseIamsurethatClarkeisinpossessionoffactsaboutthiswoman，factsofwhichIknownothing。"

"Well，whatthen？"

Mr。VilliersleanedbackinhischairandlookedreflectivelyatAustinforamomentbeforeheanswered：

"MyideawasthatClarkeandIshouldcallonMrs。

Beaumont。"

"Youwouldnevergointosuchahouseasthat？No，no，Villiers，youcannotdoit。Besides，consider；whatresult……"

"Iwilltellyousoon。ButIwasgoingtosaythatmyinformationdoesnotendhere；ithasbeencompletedinanextraordinarymanner。

"Lookatthisneatlittlepacketofmanuscript；itispaginated，yousee，andIhaveindulgedinthecivilcoquetryofaribbonofredtape。Ithasalmostalegalair，hasn’tit？

Runyoureyeoverit，Austin。ItisanaccountoftheentertainmentMrs。Beaumontprovidedforherchoicerguests。

Themanwhowrotethisescapedwithhislife，butIdonotthinkhewilllivemanyyears。Thedoctorstellhimhemusthavesustainedsomesevereshocktothenerves。"

Austintookthemanuscript，butneverreadit。Openingtheneatpagesathaphazardhiseyewascaughtbyawordandaphrasethatfollowedit；and，sickatheart，withwhitelipsandacoldsweatpouringlikewaterfromhistemples，heflungthepaperdown。

"Takeitaway，Villiers，neverspeakofthisagain。

Areyoumadeofstone，man？Why，thedreadandhorrorofdeathitself，thethoughtsofthemanwhostandsinthekeenmorningairontheblackplatform，bound，thebelltollinginhisears，andwaitsfortheharshrattleofthebolt，areasnothingcomparedtothis。Iwillnotreadit；Ishouldneversleepagain。"

"Verygood。Icanfancywhatyousaw。Yes；itishorribleenough；butafterall，itisanoldstory，anoldmysteryplayedinourday，andindimLondonstreetsinsteadofamidstthevineyardsandtheolivegardens。WeknowwhathappenedtothosewhochancedtomeettheGreatGodPan，andthosewhoarewiseknowthatallsymbolsaresymbolsofsomething，notofnothing。Itwas，indeed，anexquisitesymbolbeneathwhichmenlongagoveiledtheirknowledgeofthemostawful，mostsecretforceswhichlieattheheartofallthings；

forcesbeforewhichthesoulsofmenmustwitheranddieandblacken，astheirbodiesblackenundertheelectriccurrent。

Suchforcescannotbenamed，cannotbespoken，cannotbeimaginedexceptunderaveilandasymbol，asymboltothemostofusappearingaquaint，poeticfancy，tosomeafoolishtale。

ButyouandI，atallevents，haveknownsomethingoftheterrorthatmaydwellinthesecretplaceoflife，manifestedunderhumanflesh；thatwhichiswithoutformtakingtoitselfaform。Oh，Austin，howcanitbe？Howisitthattheverysunlightdoesnotturntoblacknessbeforethisthing，thehardearthmeltandboilbeneathsuchaburden？"

Villierswaspacingupanddowntheroom，andthebeadsofsweatstoodoutonhisforehead。Austinsatsilentforawhile，butVillierssawhimmakeasignuponhisbreast。

"Isayagain，Villiers，youwillsurelyneverentersuchahouseasthat？Youwouldneverpassoutalive。"

"Yes，Austin，Ishallgooutalive——I，andClarkewithme。"

Whatdoyoumean？Youcannot，youwouldnotdare……"

"Waitamoment。Theairwasverypleasantandfreshthismorning；therewasabreezeblowing，eventhroughthisdullstreet，andIthoughtIwouldtakeawalk。Piccadillystretchedbeforemeaclear，brightvista，andthesunflashedonthecarriagesandonthequiveringleavesinthepark。Itwasajoyousmorning，andmenandwomenlookedattheskyandsmiledastheywentabouttheirworkortheirpleasure，andthewindblewasblithelyasuponthemeadowsandthescentedgorse。ButsomehoworotherIgotoutofthebustleandthegaiety，andfoundmyselfwalkingslowlyalongaquiet，dullstreet，wherethereseemedtobenosunshineandnoair，andwherethefewfoot-passengersloiteredastheywalked，andhungindecisivelyaboutcornersandarchways。Iwalkedalong，hardlyknowingwhereIwasgoingorwhatIdidthere，butfeelingimpelled，asonesometimesis，toexplorestillfurther，withavagueideaofreachingsomeunknowngoal。ThusIforgedupthestreet，notingthesmalltrafficofthemilk-shop，andwonderingattheincongruousmedleyofpennypipes，blacktobacco，sweets，newspapers，andcomicsongswhichhereandtherejostledoneanotherintheshortcompassofasinglewindow。IthinkitwasacoldshudderthatsuddenlypassedthroughmethatfirsttoldmethatIhadfoundwhatIwanted。Ilookedupfromthepavementandstoppedbeforeadustyshop，abovewhichtheletteringhadfaded，wheretheredbricksoftwohundredyearsagohadgrimedtoblack；wherethewindowshadgatheredtothemselvesthedustofwintersinnumerable。IsawwhatI

required；butIthinkitwasfiveminutesbeforeIhadsteadiedmyselfandcouldwalkinandaskforitinacoolvoiceandwithacalmface。Ithinktheremusteventhenhavebeenatremorinmywords，fortheoldmanwhocameoutofthebackparlour，andfumbledslowlyamongsthisgoods，lookedoddlyatmeashetiedtheparcel。Ipaidwhatheasked，andstoodleaningbythecounter，withastrangereluctancetotakeupmygoodsandgo。

Iaskedaboutthebusiness，andlearntthattradewasbadandtheprofitscutdownsadly；butthenthestreetwasnotwhatitwasbeforetraffichadbeendiverted，butthatwasdonefortyyearsago，’justbeforemyfatherdied，’hesaid。Igotawayatlast，andwalkedalongsharply；itwasadismalstreetindeed，andIwasgladtoreturntothebustleandthenoise。Wouldyouliketoseemypurchase？"

Austinsaidnothing，butnoddedhisheadslightly；hestilllookedwhiteandsick。Villierspulledoutadrawerinthebambootable，andshowedAustinalongcoilofcord，hardandnew；andatoneendwasarunningnoose。

"Itisthebesthempencord，"saidVilliers，"justasitusedtobemadefortheoldtrade，themantoldme。Notaninchofjutefromendtoend。"

Austinsethisteethhard，andstaredatVilliers，growingwhiterashelooked。

"Youwouldnotdoit，"hemurmuredatlast。"Youwouldnothavebloodonyourhands。MyGod！"heexclaimed，withsuddenvehemence，"youcannotmeanthis，Villiers，thatyouwillmakeyourselfahangman？"

"No。Ishallofferachoice，andleaveHelenVaughanalonewiththiscordinalockedroomforfifteenminutes。Ifwhenwegoinitisnotdone，Ishallcallthenearestpoliceman。Thatisall。"

"Imustgonow。Icannotstayhereanylonger；I

cannotbearthis。Good-night。"

"Good-night，Austin。"

Thedoorshut，butinamomentitwasopenagain，andAustinstood，whiteandghastly，intheentrance。

"Iwasforgetting，"hesaid，"thatItoohavesomethingtotell。IhavereceivedaletterfromDr。HardingofBuenosAyres。HesaysthatheattendedMeyrickforthreeweeksbeforehisdeath。"

"Anddoeshesaywhatcarriedhimoffintheprimeoflife？Itwasnotfever？"

"No，itwasnotfever。Accordingtothedoctor，itwasanuttercollapseofthewholesystem，probablycausedbysomesevereshock。Buthestatesthatthepatientwouldtellhimnothing，andthathewasconsequentlyatsomedisadvantageintreatingthecase。"

"Isthereanythingmore？"

"Yes。Dr。Hardingendshisletterbysaying：’IthinkthisisalltheinformationIcangiveyouaboutyourpoorfriend。HehadnotbeenlonginBuenosAyres，andknewscarcelyanyone，withtheexceptionofapersonwhodidnotbearthebestofcharacters，andhassinceleft——aMrs。Vaughan。’"

VIII

THEFRAGMENTS

[Amongstthepapersofthewell-knownphysician，Dr。

RobertMatheson，ofAshleyStreet，Piccadilly，whodiedsuddenly，ofapoplecticseizure，atthebeginningof1892，aleafofmanuscriptpaperwasfound，coveredwithpenciljottings。ThesenoteswereinLatin，muchabbreviated，andhadevidentlybeenmadeingreathaste。TheMS。wasonlydecipheredwithdifficulty，andsomewordshaveuptothepresenttimeevadedalltheeffortsoftheexpertemployed。

Thedate，"XXVJul。1888，"iswrittenontheright-handcorneroftheMS。ThefollowingisatranslationofDr。

Matheson’smanuscript。]

"Whethersciencewouldbenefitbythesebriefnotesiftheycouldbepublished，Idonotknow，butratherdoubt。ButcertainlyIshallnevertaketheresponsibilityofpublishingordivulgingonewordofwhatisherewritten，notonlyonaccountofmyoathgivenfreelytothosetwopersonswhowerepresent，butalsobecausethedetailsaretooabominable。Itisprobablythat，uponmatureconsideration，andafterweightingthegoodandevil，Ishallonedaydestroythispaper，oratleastleaveitundersealtomyfriendD。，trustinginhisdiscretion，touseitortoburnit，ashemaythinkfit。

"Aswasbefitting，IdidallthatmyknowledgesuggestedtomakesurethatIwassufferingundernodelusion。

Atfirstastounded，Icouldhardlythink，butinaminute’stimeIwassurethatmypulsewassteadyandregular，andthatIwasinmyrealandtruesenses。Ithenfixedmyeyesquietlyonwhatwasbeforeme。

"Thoughhorrorandrevoltingnausearoseupwithinme，andanodourofcorruptionchokedmybreath，Iremainedfirm。

Iwasthenprivilegedoraccursed，Idarenotsaywhich，toseethatwhichwasonthebed，lyingthereblacklikeink，transformedbeforemyeyes。Theskin，andtheflesh，andthemuscles，andthebones，andthefirmstructureofthehumanbodythatIhadthoughttobeunchangeable，andpermanentasadamant，begantomeltanddissolve。

"Iknowthatthebodymaybeseparatedintoitselementsbyexternalagencies，butIshouldhaverefusedtobelievewhatIsaw。Forheretherewassomeinternalforce，ofwhichIknewnothing，thatcauseddissolutionandchange。

"Heretoowasalltheworkbywhichmanhadbeenmaderepeatedbeforemyeyes。Isawtheformwaverfromsextosex，dividingitselffromitself，andthenagainreunited。ThenI

sawthebodydescendtothebeastswhenceitascended，andthatwhichwasontheheightsgodowntothedepths，eventotheabyssofallbeing。Theprincipleoflife，whichmakesorganism，alwaysremained，whiletheoutwardformchanged。

"Thelightwithintheroomhadturnedtoblackness，notthedarknessofnight，inwhichobjectsareseendimly，forI

couldseeclearlyandwithoutdifficulty。Butitwasthenegationoflight；objectswerepresentedtomyeyes，ifImaysayso，withoutanymedium，insuchamannerthatiftherehadbeenaprismintheroomIshouldhaveseennocoloursrepresentedinit。

"Iwatched，andatlastIsawnothingbutasubstanceasjelly。Thentheladderwasascendedagain……[heretheMS。

isillegible]……foroneinstanceIsawaForm，shapedindimnessbeforeme，whichIwillnotfartherdescribe。Butthesymbolofthisformmaybeseeninancientsculptures，andinpaintingswhichsurvivedbeneaththelava，toofoultobespokenof……asahorribleandunspeakableshape，neithermannorbeast，waschangedintohumanform，therecamefinallydeath。

"Iwhosawallthis，notwithoutgreathorrorandloathingofsoul，herewritemyname，declaringallthatIhavesetonthispapertobetrue。

"ROBERTMATHESON，Med。Dr。"

***……Such，Raymond，isthestoryofwhatIknowandwhatIhaveseen。Theburdenofitwastooheavyformetobearalone，andyetIcouldtellittononebutyou。Villiers，whowaswithmeatthelast，knowsnothingofthatawfulsecretofthewood，ofhowwhatwebothsawdie，layuponthesmooth，sweetturfamidstthesummerflowers，halfinsunandhalfinshadow，andholdingthegirlRachel’shand，calledandsummonedthosecompanions，andshapedinsolidform，upontheearthwetreadupon，thehorrorwhichwecanbuthintat，whichwecanonlynameunderafigure。IwouldnottellVilliersofthis，norofthatresemblance，whichstruckmeaswithablowuponmyheart，whenIsawtheportrait，whichfilledthecupofterrorattheend。WhatthiscanmeanIdarenotguess。IknowthatwhatIsawperishwasnotMary，andyetinthelastagonyMary’seyeslookedintomine。Whethertherecanbeanyonewhocanshowthelastlinkinthischainofawfulmystery，Idonotknow，butiftherebeanyonewhocandothis，you，Raymond，aretheman。Andifyouknowthesecret，itrestswithyoutotellitornot，asyouplease。

Iamwritingthislettertoyouimmediatelyonmygettingbacktotown。Ihavebeeninthecountryforthelastfewdays；perhapsyoumaybeabletoguessinwhichpart。WhilethehorrorandwonderofLondonwasatitsheight——for"Mrs。

Beaumont，"asIhavetoldyou，waswellknowninsociety——I

wrotetomyfriendDr。Phillips，givingsomebriefoutline，orratherhint，ofwhathappened，andaskinghimtotellmethenameofthevillagewheretheeventshehadrelatedtomeoccurred。Hegavemethename，ashesaidwiththelesshesitation，becauseRachel’sfatherandmotherweredead，andtherestofthefamilyhadgonetoarelativeintheStateofWashingtonsixmonthsbefore。Theparents，hesaid，hadundoubtedlydiedofgriefandhorrorcausedbytheterribledeathoftheirdaughter，andbywhathadgonebeforethatdeath。

OntheeveningofthedaywhichIreceivedPhillips’letterIwasatCaermaen，andstandingbeneaththemoulderingRomanwalls，whitewiththewintersofseventeenhundredyears，Ilookedoverthemeadowwhereoncehadstoodtheoldertempleofthe"GodoftheDeeps，"andsawahousegleaminginthesunlight。ItwasthehousewhereHelenhadlived。IstayedatCaermaenforseveraldays。Thepeopleoftheplace，Ifound，knewlittleandhadguessedless。ThosewhomIspoketoonthematterseemedsurprisedthatanantiquarian（asIprofessedmyselftobe）

shouldtroubleaboutavillagetragedy，ofwhichtheygaveaverycommonplaceversion，and，asyoumayimagine，ItoldnothingofwhatIknew。Mostofmytimewasspentinthegreatwoodthatrisesjustabovethevillageandclimbsthehillside，andgoesdowntotheriverinthevalley；suchanotherlonglovelyvalley，Raymond，asthatonwhichwelookedonesummernight，walkingtoandfrobeforeyourhouse。FormanyanhourI

strayedthroughthemazeoftheforest，turningnowtorightandnowtoleft，pacingslowlydownlongalleysofundergrowth，shadowyandchill，evenunderthemiddaysun，andhaltingbeneathgreatoaks；lyingontheshortturfofaclearingwherethefaintsweetscentofwildrosescametomeonthewindandmixedwiththeheavyperfumeoftheelder，whosemingledodourisliketheodouroftheroomofthedead，avapourofincenseandcorruption。Istoodattheedgesofthewood，gazingatallthepompandprocessionofthefoxglovestoweringamidstthebrackenandshiningredinthebroadsunshine，andbeyondthemintodeepthicketsofcloseundergrowthwherespringsboilupfromtherockandnourishthewater-weeds，dankandevil。ButinallmywanderingsIavoidedonepartofthewood；itwasnottillyesterdaythatIclimbedtothesummitofthehill，andstoodupontheancientRomanroadthatthreadsthehighestridgeofthewood。Heretheyhadwalked，HelenandRachel，alongthisquietcauseway，uponthepavementofgreenturf，shutinoneithersidebyhighbanksofredearth，andtallhedgesofshiningbeech，andhereIfollowedintheirsteps，lookingout，nowandagain，throughpartingsintheboughs，andseeingononesidethesweepofthewoodstretchingfartorightandleft，andsinkingintothebroadlevel，andbeyond，theyellowsea，andthelandoverthesea。Ontheothersidewasthevalleyandtheriverandhillfollowinghillaswaveonwave，andwoodandmeadow，andcornfield，andwhitehousesgleaming，andagreatwallofmountain，andfarbluepeaksinthenorth。AndsoatleastIcametotheplace。Thetrackwentupagentleslope，andwidenedoutintoanopenspacewithawallofthickundergrowtharoundit，andthen，narrowingagain，passedonintothedistanceandthefaintbluemistofsummerheat。AndintothispleasantsummergladeRachelpassedagirl，andleftit，whoshallsaywhat？Ididnotstaylongthere。

InasmalltownnearCaermaenthereisamuseum，containingforthemostpartRomanremainswhichhavebeenfoundintheneighbourhoodatvarioustimes。OnthedayaftermyarrivalinCaermaenIwalkedovertothetowninquestion，andtooktheopportunityofinspectingthemuseum。AfterIhadseenmostofthesculpturedstones，thecoffins，rings，coins，andfragmentsoftessellatedpavementwhichtheplacecontains，Iwasshownasmallsquarepillarofwhitestone，whichhadbeenrecentlydiscoveredinthewoodofwhichIhavebeenspeaking，and，asIfoundoninquiry，inthatopenspacewheretheRomanroadbroadensout。Ononesideofthepillarwasaninscription，ofwhichItookanote。Someofthelettershavebeendefaced，butIdonotthinktherecanbeanydoubtastothosewhichIsupply。Theinscriptionisasfollows：

DEVOMNODENTiFLAvIVSSENILISPOSSvitPROPTERNVPtiasquaSVIDITSVBVMra"TothegreatgodNodens（thegodoftheGreatDeeporAbyss）FlaviusSenilishaserectedthispillaronaccountofthemarriagewhichhesawbeneaththeshade。"

Thecustodianofthemuseuminformedmethatlocalantiquariesweremuchpuzzled，notbytheinscription，orbyanydifficultyintranslatingit，butastothecircumstanceorritetowhichallusionismade。

***……Andnow，mydearClarke，astowhatyoutellmeaboutHelenVaughan，whomyousayyousawdieundercircumstancesoftheutmostandalmostincrediblehorror。I

wasinterestedinyouraccount，butagooddeal，nayall，ofwhatyoutoldmeIknewalready。Icanunderstandthestrangelikenessyouremarkedinboththeportraitandintheactualface；youhaveseenHelen’smother。Yourememberthatstillsummernightsomanyyearsago，whenItalkedtoyouoftheworldbeyondtheshadows，andofthegodPan。YourememberMary。ShewasthemotherofHelenVaughan，whowasbornninemonthsafterthatnight。

Maryneverrecoveredherreason。Shelay，asyousawher，allthewhileuponherbed，andafewdaysafterthechildwasbornshedied。Ifancythatjustatthelastsheknewme；I

wasstandingbythebed，andtheoldlookcameintohereyesforasecond，andthensheshudderedandgroanedanddied。ItwasanillworkIdidthatnightwhenyouwerepresent；Ibrokeopenthedoorofthehouseoflife，withoutknowingorcaringwhatmightpassforthorenterin。Irecollectyourtellingmeatthetime，sharplyenough，andrightlytoo，inonesense，thatI

hadruinedthereasonofahumanbeingbyafoolishexperiment，basedonanabsurdtheory。Youdidwelltoblameme，butmytheorywasnotallabsurdity。WhatIsaidMarywouldseeshesaw，butIforgotthatnohumaneyescanlookonsuchasightwithimpunity。AndIforgot，asIhavejustsaid，thatwhenthehouseoflifeisthusthrownopen，theremayenterinthatforwhichwehavenoname，andhumanfleshmaybecometheveilofahorroronedarenotexpress。IplayedwithenergieswhichIdidnotunderstand，youhaveseentheendingofit。HelenVaughandidwelltobindthecordaboutherneckanddie，thoughthedeathwashorrible。Theblackenedface，thehideousformuponthebed，changingandmeltingbeforeyoureyesfromwomantoman，frommantobeast，andfrombeasttoworsethanbeast，allthestrangehorrorthatyouwitness，surprisesmebutlittle。

WhatyousaythedoctorwhomyousentforsawandshudderedatI

noticedlongago；IknewwhatIhaddonethemomentthechildwasborn，andwhenitwasscarcelyfiveyearsoldIsurprisedit，notonceortwicebutseveraltimeswithaplaymate，youmayguessofwhatkind。Itwasformeaconstant，anincarnatehorror，andafterafewyearsIfeltIcouldbearitnomore，andIsentHelenVaughanaway。Youknownowwhatfrightenedtheboyinthewood。Therestofthestrangestory，andallelsethatyoutellme，asdiscoveredbyyourfriend，Ihavecontrivedtolearnfromtimetotime，almosttothelastchapter。AndnowHeleniswithhercompanions